THE CATHOLIC

COLLECTION

734 CATHOLIC ESSAYS AND NOVELS ON

AUTHENTIC CATHOLIC TEACHING

C A T H O L I C  W A Y  P U B L I S H I N G

Copyright © 2013 by Catholic Way Publishing.

All rights reserved.

Copyright for these 734 Essays and Novels vary from the 1900s to 1978 Worldwide.

Retypeset and republished in 2013 by Catholic Way Publishing.

Cover design by Catholic Way Publishing.

This work is published for the greater glory of Jesus Christ through His most holy mother Mary and for the sanctification of the Church militant.

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EPUB E-Book Edition

eISBN-13: 978-1-78379-303-7

eISBN-10: 1-78379-303-1

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INDEX

| A | B | C | D | E |

| F | G | H | I | J |

| K | L | M | N | O |

| P | Q | R | S | T |

| U | V | W | X | Y | Z |

INDEX OF BOOKS

| A |

A Novena of The Holy Spirit

BY ST ALPHONSUS LIGUORI

A Priest

BY REV. ROBERT NASH, S.J

A Priest And Protestants

BY REV. ROBERT NASH. S. J

A Protestant Looks At Lourdes

BY RUTH CRANSTON

A Saint of The Stage Eve Lavalliere

BY CHARLOTTE KELLY

A Saint With A Fortune

BY S. M. R

A Scientist Finds God

ALEXIS CARREL

A Short Life of Our Lord

BY THE MOST REV. ALBAN GOODIER, S.J

A Trappist Asks Do You Want Life And Love?

A TRAPPIST

A Visit To A Catholic Church

BY REV. P. RYAN

A Way To End The Leakage

BY REV. J. LEYCESTER KING, S.J

Abiding Sorrow For Sin

BY FATHER FABER

Abortion—The Great Injustice

BY H.P. DUNN (1978)

Abraham-The Friend of God

FR. FELIX, O.M. CAP

Acceptance of Sufferings

FROM THE BOOK ‘THE GREAT REDEEMER’ BY THE VERY REV. THAMER TOTH PROFESSOR, UNIVERSITY OF BUDAPEST

Advice To Parents

BY SAINT ALPHONSUS LIGUORI

After Death-What?

BY REV. RICHARD FELIX, O.S.B

After The Whirlwind?

Again Rome Has Spoken

THE CHURCH’S RULING ON THE MORAL OBLIGATIONS OF CATHOLICS. EXTRACTED FROM THE PAPAL ENCYCLICALS AND ARRANGED BY DOROTHY BLOUNT

Alive, Alive, O

BY W. LAWSON, S.J

All About Cardinals

BY D. G. M. JACKSON

All Souls Novena

DANIEL A. LORD, S.J

An Adult Confession Book

REV. M. B. HERIOT

An Agnostic In An Irish Village

BY TADHG GAVIN

An Apostle of Mary

ST. LOUIS MARIE DE MONTFORT BY P. M. FENNESSY

An Eternity of Heaven Or Hell

REV. CLEMENT HENRY CROCK

An Hour With Our Saviour

An Hour With The Sacred Heart

COMPILED BY REV. P. O’MARA, S. J

Angels And Devils

REV. DR. L. RUMBLE, M.S.C

Anglican Claims And The Old Religion

BY D. G. M. JACKSON

Anglicans Anonymous

JOSEPH CHRISTIE, S.J

Answers To 25 Questions On The History of The New Testament

BY A CATHOLIC EVANGELIST

Apologetics And Catholic Doctrine

THE MOST REV. M. SHEEHAN, D.D

Apparition of The Blessed Virgin

Are Indulgences For Sale?

BY GROVER ABLES

Are They All Wrong?

BY REV. ALBERT POWER, S.J

Are You A Good Parent?

BY WINFRID HERBST, S. D .S

Are You A Victim of Self-Pity?

BY DONALD F. MILLER, C.SS.R

Are You Mature Enough?

JEAN E. LAIRD

Are You Scrupulous?

BY DANIEL A. LORD, S.J

Are You Sincere?

A LAWYER, PROFESSOR, PRIEST AND MERCHANT ENGAGE IN PLAIN TALK ON RELIGION

Arnold Janssen’s Great Enterprise

REV. J. BRODERICK, S. J

As The Morning Rising . .

BY THE REV. PATRICK O’CONNOR

Ask And You Shall Receive

REV. JOSEPH L. GERBER

Ask Me Another

BY DANIEL A. LORD, S.J

At Mass With Mary

JOHN SEXTON KENNEDY

At Prayer

BEDE JARRETT, O. P

Atheism Doesnit Make Sense

BY DANIEL A. LORD, S.J

Australia’s Forgotten Patroness

REV. A. AYERS, S.D.B

| B |

Beatification And Canonisation

BY REV. J. R. MACMAHON, S. J

Before The Threshold

LEONARD BOASE, S.J

Before You Wed

BY HUBERT MCEVOY

Between 13 And 20

BY REV. ROBERT NASH, S.J

Bishop Richard Challoner

E.E. REYNOLDS

Blessed Are The Poorin Spirit. . . . . Blessed Are The Meekof Heart. . . .

BY THE VERY REV. THOMAS N. BURKE

Burning With Love

BY REV. R. STEVENSON, S.J

But Dear!

By Whose Authority?

BY ALBERT P. HOLDEN

| C |

Call The Priest

BY WINFRID HERBST, S.D.S

Can A Jew Be A Christian?

BY REVEREND JOHN M. OESTERREICHER, DIRECTOR OF THE INSTITUTE OF JUDAEO-CHRISTIAN STUDIES, SETON HALL UNIVERSITY, U.S.A

Can I Keep Pure?

BY REV. ROBERT NASH, S.J

Can We Be Saints?

BY FRANK DUFF

Capharnaum And The Eucharist

FRANK DUFF

Capital Punishment

BY REV. JOHN F. MCDONALD, L.C.L

Cardinal Newman

BY REV. JOHN A. O’BRIEN, PH.D., LL.D

Catholic Common Sense

BY REV. A. POWER, S.J

Catholic Education In The Home

A TALK GIVEN TO THE 1954 SOUTH AUSTRALIAN STATE CONFERENCE OF THE NATIONAL CATHOLIC RURAL MOVEMENT, BY A DOMINICAN NUN, CABRA CONVENT, ADELAIDE

Catholic England

EDITED BY JOHN C. HEENAN C.M.S

Catholic Life

A SELECTION OF LEAFLETS FROM THE BELLARMINE SOCIETY

Catholic Marriage

BY DANIEL A. LORD S.J

Catholic Training of Children

BY RAOUL PLUS, S.J

Catholics And Freemasonry

BY DR L. RUMBLE, M.S.C

Catholics In Name Only

BY REV. DR. L. RUMBLE, M. S. C

Censorship

BY IAN WYND, M.A., B.ED

Charity

BY RICHARD F. CLARKE S.J

Cheshire V. C

BY FATHER BERNARD HOSIE, S.M

Childlike Or Childish

D. G. M. JACKSON

Christ And His Church

BY REV. DANIEL A. LORD, S.J

Christ And Prayer

BY PHILIP GERRARD

Christ In The Home 1

BY RAOUL PLUS, S.J

Christ In The Home 2

BY RAOUL PLUS, S.J

Christ In The Home 3

BY RAOUL PLUS, S.J

Christ In The Home 4

BY RAOUL PLUS, S.J. A TRANSLATION FROM THE FRENCH

Christ On Divorce

REV. HERBERT J. RICHARDS, S.T.L., L.S.S

Christ Or Barabbas?

DANIEL A. LORD, S. J

Christ Our Leader

Christ The King

Christ The Modern

BY DANIEL A. LORD, S.J

Christ’s Brotherhood: Its Social Value

BY REV. GARRETT PIERSE, D.D

Christ’s Ministry In Galilee

WALTER FARRELL, O.P

Christian Doctrine Drills

Christian Unity In God’s Way

REV. J. A. CONNELLAN

Christmastide

O ADMIRABILE COMMERCIUM! BY ABBOT MARMION, O.S.B

City Set On A Hill

BY ALBERT P. HOLDEN

Communion of Saints

ALBERT P. HOLDEN

Companion For Youth

ST. BERNADETTE MONSIGNOR JOHN T. MCMAHON, M.A., PH.D

Concerning Parents

BY REV. EDGAR SCHMIEDELER, O.S.B., PH.D

Confession Is A Joy

DANIEL A. LORD S.J

Confession To A Priest

BY THE REV. W. H. ANDERSON, S.J

Confidence In Prayer

BY SAINT ALPHONSUS LIGUORI

Consecration of The Family To The Sacred Heart

BY REV. M. D. FORREST, M.S.C

Contemplative Prayer

PÈRE DE LA TAILLE, S.J

Contrition

Conversation With God

BY ROBERT NASH, S. J

Converts: How To Win Them

REV. JOHN A. O’BRIEN, PH.D

Courage—And A Man’s Part

REV. BRO. G. B. SHERRIFF

Courtship And Marriage

BY MARTIN J. SCOTT, S. J

Cruelty To Animals

BY DOM AMBROSE AGIUS, O.S.B

| D |

Daily Devotions To Saint Joseph

BY ST. ALPHONSUS LIGUORI ADAPTED BY HUGH J. O’CONNELL,C.SS.R

Daily Mass

BY EUSTACE BOYLAN, S.J

Daily Pilgrimage To Purgatory

Daily Thoughts From The Little Flower

BY REV. FRANCIS BROOME, C.S.P

Damien Parer

BY BERNARD HOSIE, S.M

Daniel Mannix

BY REV. BERNARD O’CONNER

Day By Day With The Cross

JAMES A. VARNI

Death Can Be Joyous

THE REV. FRANCIS J. CONNELL, C.SS.R., S.T.D

Death Isn’t Terrible

BY REV. DANIEL A. LORD, S.J

Devotion To The Holy Face of Our Lord Jesus Christ

COMPILED BY A MEMBER OF THE URSULINE COMMUNITY BLACKROCK, CORK

Devotion To The Immaculate Heart of Mary

W. F. O’CONNOR O.M.I

Devotion To The Sacred Heart

Do We Survive Death?

JOHN CLAVERHOUSE

Do You Know The Church?

Does It Matter Much What Man Believes?

REV. JOHNA. O’BRIEN, PH.D

Doing The Stations

BY REV ROBERT NASH, S J

Dominic Barberi, C. P

BY REV. EDMUND THORPE, C. P

Don’t Bea Liar!

DANIEL A. LORD, S. J

Don’t Marry A Catholic!

BY DANIEL A. LORD, S.J

Don’t Risk It

BY REV. R. STEVENSON, S.J

Don’t Swear Like That!

BY DANIEL A. LORD, S.J

| E |

Edel Quinn

BY FRANK DUFF

Escaping Purgatory

REV. A. GITS, S.J

Eucharist Questions

REV. DR. L. RUMBLE, M.S.C

Eucharistic Meditations

BY ST. PETER JULIAN EYMARD

Eugene De Mazenod

BY PHILIP ROONEY

Everybody’s Going Steady

BY REV. RAYMOND WAHL

Everyone Must Pour Himself Into Another Soul

BY FRANK DUFF

Exposition On The Sixth Penitential Psalm

SAINT JOHN FISHER

| F |

Facts For Freethinkers

BY HEINRICH SCHUNCK

Family Life Today

MOST REV. J. W. GLEESON, D. D

Family Prayers And Mixed Marriages

BY REV. KEVIN BYRNE

Famous Shrines of Our Lady 1

MONSIGNOR J. T. MCMAHON, M.A., PH.D

Famous Shrines of Our Lady 2

BY MONSIGNOR JOHN T. MCMAHON, M.A., PH.D. (AUTHOR OF PRAY THE MASS.)

Fashionable Sin

BY DANIEL A. LORD, S.J

Father Damien

Father Faber

BY WILFRID WOOLLEN, M.A

Father Therry-100 Years On

Fatima And Five Saturdays

BY REV. F. P. O’SHEA, C.SS.R

Feast of The Epiphany And of The Three Holy Kings

REV. ALBAN BUTLER

First Commandment

REV. CLEMENT CROCK

First Steps To Faith

BY DONALD DRAYTON CHRISTIE

Five Figures of The Faith

BY FRANK MURPHY

Five Pre-Marriage Instructions

BY REV. DR. RUMBLE, M.S.C

For God And Spain

BY AODH DE BLACAM

For Your Protestant Friend

BY T.V. FLEMING. S.J

Forbidden And Suspect Societies

BY REV. LAWRENCE L. MCREAVY J.C.D., M.A

Forever And Forever

BY DANIEL LORD, S.J

Friend of Mine

ROBERT NASH, S.J

Friends of The Cross

ST. LOUIS MARIE DE MONTFORT

Friendship

ST. FRANCIS DE SALES

Further Words of Encouragement

BY REV. D. CONSIDINE, S. J

| G |

Garment of Grace

Gethsemane

BY FR. PICHON S.J

Go To Joseph!

CONSECRATION TO ST. JOSEPH

God

REV. FRANCIS J. RIPLEY

God And Evil

JOHN CLAVERHOUSE

God In The World

JAMES KELLY

God Stares You In The Eye

REV. J. MCKEE B.A

God, Truth, And Thirteen

BY SISTER MARY GWEN, S.M.S.M

God’s Doorkeeper

BY FATHER ALOYSIUS, O.M.CAP

Gossiping

BY DANIEL A. LORD, S.J

Grow Up And Marry

INTERVIEW WITH RAPHAEL C. MCCARTHY, S.J. BY DANIEL A. LORD, S.J

Growing Old

THOMAS RUDD, M.D., M.R.C.P

| H |

Handing On The Faith

BY REV. FR. T. WHITE

Happiness In The Home

BY THE VERY REV. DAVID BARRY P.P. , S.T.L

Have We Kept The Faith To Ourselves

FRANK DUFF

Have You A God?

MARTIN J. SCOTT, S.J

Have You A Soul? 1

BY DANIEL A. LORD S.J

Have You A Soul? 2

BY REV DANIEL A. LORD S.J

Have You Religion In Your Heart?

ST. JOHN MARY VIANNEY

Healing

BY EDWARD K. TAYLOR C.M.S

Heart of Jesus

Heaven

BY REV D F MACDAID, D.D., PH.D

Hell And Its Punishments

BY REV. T. ROCHE, C.SS.R

Hell Questions

DR. RUMBLE, M.S.C

Hell Questions And Answers

BY VERY REV. FRANCIS J. RIPLEY SUPERIOR OF THE CATHOLIC MISSIONARY SOCIETY

Hell! Why Talk About It?

FR. M. J. HUBER, C.S.S.R

Hilaire Belloc

BY KARL G. SCHMUDE

Holy Water

BY REV. HERM. FISCHER, S.V.D

Home Life

BY A VINCENTIAN FATHER

How Atheism Kills Freedom

BY D. G. M. JACKSON, M.A

How The Church In England Became Protestant

How To Act Towards Invalidly Married Catholics

DONALD F. MILLER, C.SS.R

How To Be A Real Father

How To Be Good Parents

DONALD F. MILLER, C.SS.R

How To Control Your Anger

DONALD F. MILLER, C.SS.R

How To Control Your Passions

BY LOUIS G. MILLER, C.SS.R

How To Have A Happy Death

F. M. LEE, C.SS.R

How To Know The One True Church

BY REV. W. FREAN, C.SS.R

How To Pray At All Times

ST. ALPHONSUS DE LIGUORI

How To Talk To God

FROM THE WRITINGS OF ST. ALPHONSUS LIGUORI, ADAPTED BY D. MACKINNON, C.SS.R

Humility

BY RICHARD F. CLARKE, S.J

| I |

I Am Afraid

BY. DR. J. CATARINICH

I Am The Lord Thy God

BY REV. GERALD C. TREACY, S.J

I Can Read Anything!

BY DANIEL A. LORD S.J

I Can Take It Or Leave It Alone

DANIEL A. LORD, S. J

I Can’t Copythat Family!

FRANCIS L. FILAS, S. J

I Could Not Stay . . . What I Was!

BY MRS ELEANOR EMMERSON

I Don’t Like Lent

BY DANIEL A. LORD, S.J

I Met A Miracle

BY REV. PATRICK O’CONNOR

I Must Obey The Church!

BY REV. DR. RUMBLE, M.S.C

I Use The Sign of The Cross

BAKEWELL MORRISON, S.J

Imaginitis

ROBERT NASH, S.J

In Praise of Fathers

DANIEL A. LORD, S.J

In The Little Way of Saint Therese of Lisieux

Indulgences: What Are They?

REV. JOHN A. O’BRIEN, PH.D

Is Capital Punishment Evil?

BY EMMANUEL VALENZA

Is One Religion As Good As Another?

REV. JOHN A O’BRIEN, PH.D

Is The Pope Infallible?

BY THE REV. H. B. LOUGHNAN, S.J

It All Began In Ireland

BY W. REGINALD TAYLOR

It Does Make A Difference . . . What I Believe

BY RICHARD GINDER

It’s Christ Or War

BY DANIEL A. LORD S.J

| J |

Jesuit Pioneers

BY VERY REV. AUSTIN KELLY, S.J

Jesus Living In The World-Today!

BY REV. WILFRED G. HURLEY, C.S.P

Josue-Valiant In War

BY FATHER FELIX, O.M.CAP., L.S.S

| K |

Keepthyself Chaste

Kissing

BY WINFRID HERBST, S.D.S

Knock And Its Shrine

BY F. P. CAREY

| L |

Label Your Luggage

ROBERT NASH, S.J

Lacordaire

BY FATHER STANISLAUS M. HOGAN, O.P

Latin—The Language of The Church

BISHOP JOHN

Let Us Judge Catholics By The Bible

Let’s Convert Australia

BY D. G. M. JACKSON, M.A

Let’s See The Other Side

BY DANIEL A. LORD S. J

Letter To A Lapsed Catholic

BY VERY REV. F. J. RIPLEY, C. M. S

Letter-Stories In Honour of Our Lady of Perpetual Succour

EDITED AND PUBLISHED BY REV. FATHER BOLTON OF ST. AMBROSE’S CHURCH. NEWMARKET, BRISBANE

Letter-Stories In Honour of Our Lady of Perpetual Succour Part 2

EDITED AND PUBLISHED BY REV. FATHER BOLTONOF ST. AMBROSE’S CHURCH. NEWMARKET, BRISBANE

Life of Christ

DR. L. RUMBLE, M.S.C

Life of Saint Clement Mary Hofbauer, C.Ss.R

Listening Again To Our Lord

BY CÉILE DÉ

Listening To Our Lord

BY CEILE DÉ

Living The Morning offering

BY REV. JOHN MCASTOCKER, S.J

Loneliness

BY ARMAND GEORGES

Look It Up In The Book

BY REV. ROBERT NASH, S.J

Louis Pasteur

Love Is Calling

REV. ALBERT POWER, S.J

Love Thy Neighbour

BY MARY FOSTER

Love’s Allthat Matters

BY DANIEL A. LORD, S.J

Love’s Way

BY REV. ALBERT POWER S. J

Lovers of Christ

Loving God

FROM A SERIES OF CONFERENCES GIVEN BY FR. D. CONSIDINE, S. J

| M |

Man Says—If I Were God. . .

BY DANIEL A. LORD, S.J

Marriage

BY REV. JOHN A. O’BRIEN

Marriage And The Moral Law

ADDRESSES OF POPE PIUS XII

Marriage For Keeps

ED WILLOCK

Marriage Questions

REV. DR. L. RUMBLE, M.S.C

Mary

BY REV. WILLIAM P. O’KEEFE, C.M

Mary Always Remembers You

BY T. N. JORGENSEN, S.J

Mary Mckillop

Mary Spouse of The Holy Ghost

BY MONSIGNOR JOHN T. MCMAHON, M.A., PH.D. AUTHOR OF “PRAYING THE MASS.”

Mary Tudor And The Protestants

BY D. G. M. JACKSON, M.A

Mary, Motherhood, And The Home

BY FULTON J. SHEEN

Mary, The Mother of Christ

BY FATHER CLEMENT BECK, S. V. D

Mass With The Holy Spirit

MGR. JOHN T. MCMAHON, M.A

Matrimony And Nullity

DOM PETER FLOOD, O.S.B

Matt Talbot

BY EILY MACADAM

Matthew, Mark, Luke, John

MARTIN J. SCOTT, S.J

Maxims For Attaining Perfection

BY SAINT ALPHONSUS LIGUORI

Meditations On The Holy Ghost

BY BEDE JARRETT, O.P

Meditations On The Mysteries of The Rosary

R. J. MILLER; C.SS.R

Meditations On The Passion of Our Lord

ST. ALPHONSUS LIGUORI

Member For Member

BY ISIDORE O’BRIEN, O. F. M

Men of Good Will

BY JOHN HENRY NEWMAN

Minutes With The Master

BY REV. PAUL LEONARD, S. J

Miracles

BY REV. RONALD A. KNOX

Miracles

Missing Catholics

REV. DR. L. RUMBLE, M.S.C

Mistakes About Mary

D. F. MILLER, C.SS.R

Mixed Marriages

MOST REV. JOHN C, HEENAN, D.D

Modern Secularism

DENYS G. M. JACKSON, M. A

Moral Problems In Fashion Design

AN ADDRESS OF POPE PIUS XII

Morality

BY REV. CLEMENT CROCK

More Words of Encouragement

NOTES OF INSTRUCTIONS DELIVERED BY REV. DANIEL CONSIDINE, S.J. ARRANGED BY REV. F. DEVAS, S.J

Mortal Sin And How To Avoid It

BY REV. WILLIAM P. O’KEEFE, C.M

Moses—The Man of God

FATHER FELIX. O.M.CAP., L.S.S

Mother Mary Potter

BY REV. MARIUS MCAULIFFE, O.F.M

Mother of God, Mother of Men

BY FATHER HILARY, O.F.M.CAP

Mothers of History

BY J. T. MORAN, C.SS.R

Mountaineer of Faith

BY KARL G. SCHMUDE

Mr. Brown’s Conversion

My Faith And I

BY DANIEL A. LORD, S.J

My Mind Still Wanders

REV. JOHN P. DELANEY, S.J

| N |

Night Ride

BY PHILIP F. ROONEY

No Door Between

BY DANIEL A. LORD, S. J

Novena And Prayers To Saint Martin De Porres

Novena To Saint Anne

DANIEL A. LORD, S.J

Novena To Saint Anthony

Novenas To Our Lady of Mt. Carmel, Our Lady of Fatima, And Saint Joseph

BY REV DANIEL A. LORD S. J

Now Hear Our Side

BY THE REV. JOHN J. WALDE

| O |

Of Course We Don’t Mean You

Of Dirty Stories

DANIEL A. LORD, S.J

Of Interest To Catholics

Of The Dolours of Mary

ST. ALPHONSUS LIGUORI

On Being Cheerful

BY JOSEPH MCSORLEY OF THE PAULIST FATHERS

On Charity

FROM THE CATECHISM OF RODEZ

On Entering Eternity

BY A PRIEST

On Making A Good Confession

WALTER JEWELL

Our Daily Bread

BYRT. REV. JOHN A. O’BRIEN, PH.D

Our Father

R. H. J. STEUART, S.J

Our Infantile Paralysis

M. M. STANCIOFF

Our Lady of Fatima

REV. BERNARD O’CONNOR

Our Lady of Lourdes Novena

DANIEL A. LORD, S.J

Our Lady’s Assumption

DANIEL A. LORD, S. J

Our Lady’s Brown Scapular

FR, PETER DAVIES, O. CARM

Our Precious Freedom

BY DANIEL A. LORD, S. J

Our Sacramental Life

REV. H. A. JOHNSTON, S.J

| P |

Padre Pio

Palestine In The Time of Christ

LEONCE DE GRANDMAISON, S.J

Parent And Child

BY DOM EDGAR SCHMIEDELER, O.S.B., PH.D

Parents And The Vocation of Their Children

ERNEST F. MILLER, C.SS.R

Partnership With God

Pass It On

ROBERT NASH, S. J

Passiontide Prayer Book

BY POPE PIUS VII

Patience

BY RICHARD F. CLARKE S.J

Patriotism

BY MOST REV. WILLIAM J. PHILBIN, D.D. BISHOP OF CLONFERT

Penance

BY REV. H. A. JOHNSTON, S.J

Penance And Self-Denial: Why?

REV. JOHN A. O’BRIEN, PH.D

Perfect Contrition

BY REV. F. QUIRIJNEN, S.J

Peter And The Papacy

Pilgrimage To Lisieux

DR. LUXFORD MEAGHER

Politeness In The Pews

BY DANIEL A. LORD, S.J

Pope Pius XII Speaks To Mothers

Practice During Lent

FROM “THE LITURGICAL YEAR” BY DOM GUERANGER

Prayer

BY REV. A. DOOLAN, O.P

Prayer And The Sacraments

Prayer Made Easy

REV. NICHOLAS WALSH, S.J

Prayers Are Always Answered

DANIEL A LORD, S.J

Prayer—The Key To Salvation

HUGH J. O’CONNELL, C.SS.R

Praying To Saints

Preaching Christ Crucified

BY REV. ROBERT NASH, S.J

Preparation For Total Consecration To Our Lady

Primer Catechism

Psalter of Jesus

Purgatory

BY FATHER FABER

Purity

BY BEDE JARRETT O.P

| R |

Rays of Catholic Truth

Reasons For Being A Catholic

Refuting Errors Concerning The Most Holy Sacramentof The Eucharist

FROM THE WRITINGS OF SAINT ALPHONSUS LIGUORI

Relics of Popery

BY RT. REV. ABBOT HORNE, F.S.A

Religion Is An Opiate

BY REV. WILFRED G. HURLEY, C.S P

Religion Is Reason!

REV. WILFRED G. HURLEY, C.S.P

Religion of Today: What’s Wrong With It?

BY REV. G. J. MACGILLIVRAY, M.A

Religion and The Gospels: Fact Or Fiction?

ALBERT P. HOLDEN

Reply To The Anglican Bishops In Australia

BY REV. DR. RUMBLE, M.S.C

Reply To The Anglican Bishops of Australia

BY REV. DR. RUMBLE, M.S.C

Revolt Against Heaven

BY DANIEL A. LORD, S.J

Rome Has Spoken

ARRANGED BY DOROTHY BLOUNT

Rosary Talks With Mary

RT. REV MGR. MCMAHON M.A., PH.D.,

| S |

Saint Anthony And You

JUNIPER CUMMINGS, O.F.M., CONV

Saint Augustine, Bishop of Hippo

REV. FR. ALBAN BUTLER

Saint Benedict, Abbot

Saint Bernadette

REV. A.E. BENNETT, B.A

Saint Bernard, Abbot of Clairvaux

REV. ALBAN BUTLER

Saint Brigid

BY ALICE CURTAYNE

Saint Cajetan Or Gaetano, Conf

Saint Camillus De Lellis

Saint Cataldus

Saint Clare of Assisi

BY VERY REV. DOMINIC DEVAS O.F.M

Saint Dominic Savio

BY J. J. RYAN, S. D. B

Saint Dominic, Confessor

Saint Dymphna

Saint Edith Stein

BY DORIS E. BURTON

Saint Edmund Campion

BY C. C. MARTINDALE S.J

Saint Elizabeth of Hungary

REV. JEROME O’CALLAGHAN. O.F.M

Saint Francis De Sales

Saint Francis of Assisi

DOMINIC DEVAS, O.F.M

Saint Francis Xavier, S.J

HUGH KELLY, S.J

Saint Gemma Galgani

Saint Gertrude

BY WILFRED H. WOLLEN, B.A

Saint Gregory Nazianzen, B. C.

Saint Ignatius of Loyola

Saint Jean B. M. Vianney Cure of Ars

BY LADY HERBERT

Saint John Bosco

EDWARD FITZGERALD SDB

Saint John Fisher

BY THE RT. REV. MGR RICHARD L. SMITH

Saint John Francis Regis

M. J. MAHER, S.J

Saint John of God

BENEDICT O’GRADY, O.H

Saint John The Baptist

BY DANIEL A. LORD, S.J

Saint Joseph

FATHER CHRISTOPHER, C.P

Saint Joseph Cafasso

Saint Joseph Calasanctius

Saint Joseph Novena And Prayers

BY FR. REGINALD, OFMCAP

Saint Joseph’s Apostolic Work

REV. ALBERT POWER, S.J., M.A

Saint Joseph’s Dignityand Spiritual Greatness

BY REV. ALBERT POWER, S.J., M.A.

Saint Joseph’s Titles

BY REV. ALBERT POWER, S.J.

Saint Joseph’s Virtues

BY REV. ALBERT POWER, S.J., M.A

Saint Jude-Helper In Great Need

Saint Louis IX, King of France, Conf

Saint Louise De Marillac

BY SISTER TERESA ROWE

Saint Lucy of Syracuse

Saint Margaret Clitherow

BY REV. T. A. MCGOLDRICK, M.A

Saint Margaret Mary Alacoque

BY REV. H. A. JOHNSTON, S.J

Saint Margaret of Cortona

Saint Martin of Tours

BY D. G. M. JACKAON

Saint Mary Euphrasia Pelletier

Saint Mary Magdalen

MONSIGNOR JOHN T. MCMAHON, M.A., PH.D

Saint Mary Mazzarello

P. SWAIN, S.D.B

Saint Maximilian Kolbe

BY FR. TERESIO BOSCO, S.D.B

Saint Pascal Baylon

Saint Patrick

BY RIGHT REV. MGR. O’RIORDAN, D.D

Saint Paul’s Plan For Making Converts

BY R. CAMERON, O.S.A., B.A., M.SC

Saint Peregrine, The Cancer Saint

Saint Peter Aloysius Mary Chanel

REV. E. COURTAIS, S.M

Saint Peter And His Successors

BY MERVYN CLIVE

Saint Philip Benizi, Conf

Saint Philip Neri

BY RALEIGH ADDINGTON OF THE LONDON ORATORY

Saint Philomena

Saint Pius V

Saint Pius X

MONSIGNOR JOHN P. CARROLL ABBING

Saint Pius X

REV. D. G. BYRNE

Saint Raymund Nonnatus

Saint Rita

Saint Rita of Cascia

Saint Rose of Lima

Saint Stanislaus Kostka

RICHARD BRENNAN, S.J

Saint Teresa of Avila

BY DAVID LEWIS

Saint Thomas More

MGR. P. E. HALLETT

Saint Vincent Pallotti

FR. JOHN HENNESSY, S.A.C

Saint Vincent Strambi, C.P

OSMUND THORPE, C. P

Saint Wenceslas

MGR. JOSEPH HANUSH

Saints For The Sick

MONK MATTHEW

Sanctifying Pregnancy

REV. EDGAR SCHMIEDELER, O.S.B., PH.D. DIRECTOR, FAMILY LIFE BUREAU, N.C.W.C

Sanctity

BY ARCHBISHOP COORAY O.M.I

Scapular Instructions

Science As The Enemy of Truth

HILAIRE BELLOC: ESSAYS

Send For The Priest

BY CANON F. E. PRITCHARD

Seven Ways To Win Converts

BY REV. JOHN A. O’BRIEN PH.D

Seventh Day Adventists

BY REV. DR. L. RUMBLE. M.S.C

Shall I Be A Priest?

REV. WILLIAM DOYLE, S. J

Should Mothers Work?

REV. GEORGE. KELLY

Signposts To The Church

REV. FRANCIS J. RIPLEY

Simple Prayer Book

Simple Prayers For Holy Communion

Simplicity of Life

COMPILED BY CONSTANCE DAVIDSON

Sister Camillus Goes To Jail

BY ALOYSIUS ROCHE

Sister Rosalie Rendu

Skirting The Difference

BY DR CAROL BYRNE

So We Abolished The Chaperone

BY DANIEL A. LORD, S.J

So You Think You’re Saved!

BY REV. DR. L. RUMBLE, M.S.C

Sorrow For Sin

BY HIS GRACE THE MOST REVEREND JOHN CHARLES MCQUAID, D.D

Standards of Modesty And Prayers For Purity

Stepping Stones On The Journey

Strange To The Convert

BY REV. EDWARD K. TAYLOR C.M.S

Suggestions On Saying The Rosary

BY SISTER M. EMMANUEL, O.S.B

Superstition And Credulity

BY D. G. M. JACKSON, M.A

| T |

Take And Eat

BY REY. ROBERT NASH, S.J

Tell Her You’re A Catholic

BY WALTER JEWELL

Ten Reasons For Being A Catholic

BY REV. F. SIMONS, S.V.D., D.D

Thanks Be To God

BY REV. DANIEL CONSIDINE, S.J

Thanksgiving After Holy Communion

BY DANIEL A. LORD S.J

That Jesus Christ Is God

FROM THE WRITINGS OF SAINT ALPHONSUS LIGUORI

That Story of Adam And Eve

BY DANIEL A. LORD, S.J

The Adolescent In The Modern World

REV. PETER BIRCH, M.A., PH.D

The Adventurous Nun

BY MICHAEL RICHARDSON

The Agony of Our Lord In The Garden

BY PADRE PIO

The Assumption

D.G.M. JACKSON, M.A

The Baptists

BY REV. DR. L. RUMBLE, M.S.C

The Beatific Vision of God

THE VERY REV. HUGH POPE, O.P., S.T.M., DOCT. S. SCRIPT

The Beginning And End of Man

MGR. RONALD KNOX

The Best Best-Seller

BY DANIEL A. LORD, S.J

The Blessed Eucharist

BY RIGHT REV. JOHN CUTHBERT HEDLEY

The Blessed Trinity And The Life of The Soul

VERY REV. FRANCIS J. RIPLEY, C.M.S

The Bridge of Peace

BY POPE PIUS XII

The Call To Catholic Action

BY DANIEL A. LORD, S.J

The Canon of The Scriptures

BY REV. FATHER FELIX, 0.M.CAP

The Catholic Church

A COLLECTION OF LEAFLETS FROM THE BELLARMINE SOCIETY

The Catholic Church And Reason, Part 1

The Catholic Church And Reason, Part 2

BY REV. H A. JOHNSTON, S.J

The Catholic Church And The Modern State

HILAIRE BELLOC

The Catholic Church In Japan

BY PAUL TAGUCHI, D.D., BISHOP OF OSAKA, JAPAN

The Catholic Faith

The Catholic Home

The Catholic Land Movement

BY FATHER VINCENT MCNABB, O.P., S.T.M,

The Catholic Mother

FR. BEDE JARRETT, O.P

The Catholic Revival In England

BY PROFESSOR DENIS GWYNN

The Catholic That Was. . . . . . And Is No More

ARCHBISHOP GOODIER, S. J

The Catholic Way of Worship

BY FFLORENS ROCH

The Child From One To Heaven

NEIL MACCARTHY

The Child Jesus Part 1

FRANCIS L. FILAS, S.J

The Child Jesus Part 2

FRANCIS L. FILAS, S.J

The Christ of Flesh And Blood

BY REV. PATRICK CLEARY, D.D

The Christian Doctrine of Work

BY V. REV. JOHN CANON MCCARTHY, D.C.L., D.D

The Christian Home, Part 1

BY CELESTINE STRUB, O.F.M

The Christian Home Part 2

The Christmas Child

DANIEL A. LORD, S. J

The Church Christ Founded

BY VERY REV. FRANCIS J. RIPLEY C.M.S

The Church Is A Failure?

BY DANIEL A. LORD, S.J

The Church Is Out of Date

BY REV. DANIEL A. LORD, S.J

The Church Or The Bible

BY FR. ARNOLD DAMEN, S.J

The Church Suffering

BY WINFRID HERBST, S.D.S

The Church Supreme And Independent

BY REV. P. J. GANNON, S.J

The Church Unconquerable

BY REV. OWEN FRANCIS DUDLEY

The Church With The Open Door

BY H. A. JOHNSTON, S.J

The Coming of Christ

The Commands of Jesus

BY THE REV. FATHER HUBERT, C.P

The Communist Control of The Mind

BY J. GEORGE ZUBRZYCKI

The Confessional: Its Effect On Society

BY THE VERY REV. THOMAS N. BURKE

The Confessions of An Australian Convert

JOHN CROTTY

The Cruise of A Soul

BY ALBERT MUTHUMALAI, S.J

The Dauntless Virgin of Siena

The De Montfort Way of True Devotion To Mary

BY FRANK DUFF

The Devil

BY NIALL BRENNAN

The Dignity of Motherhood

BY REV. PETER SCHMITZ, S.V.D

The Divine Coming

FRANK DUFF

The Divinely Ordained Apostolate

BY VERY REV. ARTHUR RYAN, D.D., D.PH

The Dogma of The Assumption

BY MOST REV JOHN CARMEL HEENAN, D.D., PH.D

The Dreadfulstate ofthe Lukewarm Soul

ST. JOHN MARY VIANNEY

The Duties of Married Life

BY CARDINAL MERCIER

The Early British Church

REV. GERARD CULKIN

The English Reformation

L.R. GARDINER, B.A

The Eucharist

BY ”THE OBSERVER”

The Existence of God

BY REV. R. P. REDMOND, D. D

The Exploits of Fr. William Doyle, S.J

The Family And The Cross

BY JOSEPH A. BREIG

The Fascination of Christ

BY MAOL IOSA

The Fighting Church

REV. VALENTINE VARONA, C. M

The Fighting Man

BY ROBERT NASH, S.J

The Foundation of Catholic Belief

REV J. PURCELL

The Foundation of Catholic Belief

REV J. PURCELL

The Gift Divine

BY THE REV. FRANCIS J. CONNELL, C.SS.R. S.T.D

The Girl Worth Choosing

BY DANIEL A. LORD S.J

The Glories of Saint Joseph

BY EDWARD HEALY THOMPSON, M.A

The Glories of The Catholic Church

BY REV. MARTIN SCOTT, S. J., AND MOST REV. E. T. O’DWYER, D. D., LATE BISHOP OF LIMERICK

The God In The Cave

G. K. CHESTERTON

The Gospels As Books of History

BY REV. C. C. O’CONNOR

The Great Means of Salvation And of Perfection

ST. ALPHONSUS LIGUORI

The Greatest Century

BY REV. T. N. BURKE-GAFFNEY, S.J

The Happiness of Being A Catholic

MGR. M. BESSON, BISHOP OF LAUSANNE-GENEVA-FRIBOURG

The History of Lent

BY DOM GUERANGER

The History of The Legion of Mary

The Holiness of Married Life

H.E. CARDINAL GODFREY D.D., PH.D. ARCHBISHOP OF WESTMINSTER

The Holiness of Saint Joan of Arc

ETIENNE ROBO

The Holiness of Saint Patrick

REV. P. F. CRUDDEN

The Holy Cross In Our Life

BY T. MARTIN

The Holy Infant of Prague

L.R. MACE

The Holy Sacrifice of The Mass

HIS GRACE THE MOST REVEREND JOHN CHARLES MCQUAID, D.D

The Holy Year

BY REV. JOHN R. MACMAHON, S.J

The House of Jacob

BY FATHER FELIX, O.M.CAP., L.S.S

The Immaculate Conception

BY REV. LANGTON D.FOX D.D

The Importance of Silence

BY ST. ALPHONSUS DE LIGUORI

The Incredible Creed of The Jehovah’s Witnesses

BY REV. DR. RUMBLE, M.S.C

The Inquisition

EUSTACE BOYLAN, S. J

The Inquisition And Early Protestantism In Spain

BY D. G. M. JACKSON

The Inspiration of The Bible

REV. ALBERT POWER; S.J

The Invincible Standard

BY DANIEL A. LORD, S.J

The Lady Was Immaculate

BY DANIEL A. LORD, S.J

The Legion of Mary

BY THE MOST REVEREND LEON J. SUENENS, D.D., AUXILIARY BISHOP OF MALINES

The Life of Grace

BY REV. ALBERT POWER, S. J

The Life of Our Lord

BY SAINT VINCENT FERRER, O.P

The Life of Saint Anthony

FR. AMBROSE RYAN, O.F.M

The Life of Saint John Berchmans, S. J

The Little office of The Immaculate Conception of The Blessed Virgin Mary

The Liturgy And Parish Life

REV. DR. PERCY JONES

The Maid of Lisieux

REV. A. POWER, S.J

The Man Who Got Even With God

JOHN HANNING, AMERICAN EX-COWBOY

The Martyrdom of Saint Perpetua And Felicitas, With Their Companions

REV. ALBAN BUTLER

The Marvels of Divine Grace

The Mass: Our Splendid Privilege

COMPILED BY ALICE DEASE

The Message of The Rosary I

BY REV. A. BISKUPEK, S.V.D

The Message of The Rosary II

BY REV. A. BISKUPEK, S.V.D

The Message of The Rosary III

BY REV. A. BISKUPEK, S.V.D

The Miracle of Fatima

FATHER J. J. GANNON, O.P

The Miraculous Infant Jesus of Prague

FR. PETER DAVIES, O.CARM

The Miraculous Medal

The Mormons Or Latter-Day Saints

BY REV. DR. L. RUMBLE, M.S.C

The Mother of Our Lady

The Mothers’ Saint

REV. JOHN HOGAN, C.SS.R

The Mystery of Iniquity And Evil

CLEMENT H. CROCK

The Mystery of Lent

BY DOM GUERANGER

The Mystery of The Empty Tomb

REV. J. MURTAGH

The Mystic Mass

F. ASTRUC

The Nativity of Christ

REV. ALBAN BUTLER

The One True Church

BY REV. ARNOLD DAMEN, S.J

The Perpetual Novena

The Plain Truth

BY ISIDORE O’BRIEN, O.F.M

The Poor And The Saint Vincent De Paul Society

BY A VINCENTIAN FATHER

The Popes

The Power of One Hail Mary

The Power of The Green Scapular

The Priest of The Miraculous Medal

BY M. J. EGAN

The Priest Talked Money

BY DANIEL A. LORD, S.J

The Problem of Evil 1

FATHER MICHAEL SCOTT, S.J

The Problem of Evil 2

BYM. C. D”ARCY, S.J., M.A

The Problem of Youth

BY REV. T. GREALY

The Propagation of The Faith

VERY REV. JAMES H. HANNAN, D.D., PH.D.,

The Purpose of Christian Mortification

CARDINAL MERCIER

The Questions They Always Ask

DANIEL A. LORD, S.J

The Reading of The Scriptures

BY FATHER FELIX, O.F.M.CAP

The Ready Answer

BY K.L. KING, B.A., B.ED

The Real Presence I

EUCHARISTIC MEDITATIONS BY ST. PETER JULIAN EYMARD

The Real Presence II

BY EUSTACE BOYLAN, S. J

The Real Presence II

REV. A. J. MCGILVRAY

The Reformation In England

J.J. DWYER

The Religious And Moral Training of Children

The Resurrection

WILLIAM THOMPSON

The Resurrection of Jesus Christ

BY REVEREND THOMAS CONSIDINE, P.P. M.A. (OXON)

The Resurrection of The Body

BY VINCENT MCNABB, O.P

The Ruling Passion

BY DANIEL LORD S.J

The Sabbath Or Sunday

BY REV. P. C. YORKE, D.D

The Sacrament of Catholic Action

DANIEL A. LORD S. J

The Sacraments

The Sacred Heart

REV. ROBERT NASH, S.J

The Sacred Roman Rota

BY REV. M. J. BROWNE, D.D., D.C.L

The Saints of The Canon

BY MONSIGNOR JOHN T. MCMAHON M.A., PH.D

The Sanity of Catholicism

REV. ALBERT POWER, S. J

The Sermons of Saint John Mary Vianney No.1

The Sermons of Saint John Mary Vianney No. 2

The Sermons of Saint John Mary Vianney No. 3

The Sermons of Saint John Mary Vianney No. 4

The Sermons of Saint John Mary Vianney No. 5

The Sermons of Saint John Mary Vianney No. 6

The Sermons of Saint John Mary Vianney No. 7

The Sermons of Saint John Mary Vianney No. 8

The Seven Dolour Rosary

MEDITATIONS BY MONSIGNOR JOHN T. MCMAHON

The Seventh Commandment

BY THE MOST REV. JAMES STAUNTON, D. D

The Spirit of Mary Mackillop

The Stigmata And Modern Science

BY REV. CHARLES M. CARTY

The Story of Mary Anne

The Study of God

BY THE REV. G.J. MACGILLIVRAY, M.A

The Sunday Gospels Explained

BY REV. JOHN A. PHILLIPS, S.J

The Taming of Mickey Magone

BY DON BOSCO

The Testimony of History For The Roman Catholic Church

ANNONYMOUS

The Title Catholic And The Roman Church

BY M. A. R. TUKER

The Torch of The Faith

THE LETTERS OF A JESUIT MISSIONARY, HEINRICH DUMOULIN, S.J. TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN BY J. P. GLEESON, S.J

The Triple Crown

SAINT ROBERT SOUTHWELL, S.J

The True Apostle of The Sacred Heart

BY F. LEAHY

The Truth About Catholics

PETER O’DONNELL

The Truth About Lies

BY REV. WILLIAM P. O”KEEFFE, C.M

The Truth of Scripture

BY REV. C. LATTEY, S.J

The Unity of The Church

BY REV. WALTER EBSWORTH

The Wisdom of The Desert: Part 1

JAMES O. HANNAY

The Wisdom of The Desert: Part 2

JAMES O. HANNAY

The Wonders of Everyday Life

FROM “THOUGHTS FOR ALL TIMES” BY MGR. J. VAUGHAN

The World Into Which Christ Was Born

BY REV. J. A. O’FLYNN, L.S.S

The Young Lady Says No!

WILLIAM P. O’KEEFE, C.M

There Is A God

BY REV. AEGIDIUS DOOLAN, O.P., S.T.M

These Are My Heroes

BY EILEEN TAYLOR

These Terrible Jesuits

BY REV. D. A. LORD, S. J

They Are For The World

ST. JOHN MARY VIANNEY

They Crucified Him

BY REV. ROBERT NASH, S.J

Thinking In The Heart

BY MGR. JOHN T. MCMAHON, M.A., PH.D

Thinking With Mary

BY FRANCIS P. LEBUFFE, S.J

This Virtue Called Tolerance

Thoughts And Prayers For Today

ST TERESA OF AVILA

Thoughts For Retreat

BY REV. D. DONNELLY, S.J

Thoughts For The Christmas Season

ST. LEO THE GREAT

Thoughts For The Sundays of Advent

BY THE REV. JOHN PERRY

Thoughts On The Passion

TRANSLATION OF A SERMON BY BOURDALOUE

Three Novenas

DANIEL A. LORD, S.J

Three Tabernacles

BY REV. ROBERT NASH, S. J.

Through Anglicanism To The Church

BY THE RIGHT HON. SIR HENRY SLESSER, P.C

Through Seas of Destiny

BY REV. CELSUS KELLY, O.F.M

Thy Sins Are Forgiven

BY THE REV. FRANCIS J. CONNELL, C.SS.R. S.T.D

To Be A Priest!

BY REV. DR. RUMBLE, M.S.C

To Jesus Through Mary

CARDINAL MERCIER

To Start You Thinking

REV. HERBERT H J CREES, BA

Treasury of Indulgenced Prayers

BY JAMES A. VARNI

True Religious Unity

ENCYCLICAL LETTER OF POPE PIUS XI

Trust In God

EXTRACTS FROM NOTES OF RETREATS GIVEN BY REV. DANIEL CONSIDINE, S. J

Truth’s The Thing

DANIEL A. LORD, S.J

| U |

Union With God

FROM “THOUGHTS FOR ALL TIMES” BY MGR. J. VAUGHAN

Upon This Rock

BY JOHN A. PHILLIPS, S.J

| V |

Vagaries of The Devout

THE REV. A. F. DAY, S.J

Venial Sin

BY THE RIGHT REV. J.S. VAUGHAN. BISHOP OF SEBASTOPOLIS

Vocation

FROM THE FRENCH OF REV. VICTOR VAN TRICHT, S. J

Vocations

BY REV. WILLIAM DOYLE S.J

| W |

We Aren’t Dumb

BY REV. ROBERT NASH, S.J

We Found The Faith

STORIES BY RECENT AUSTRALIAN CONVERTS TO THE CATHOLIC RELIGION ASSEMBLED BY THE CATHOLIC ENQUIRY CENTRE

Well, What Is The Mass?

DANIEL A LORD S. J

What Are Catholics? Pt. I

BY REV. J. GARLAND, S.J

What Are Catholics? Pt. II

BY REV. JOSEPH GARLAND, S. J

What Do You Know About

What Doth It Profit?

BY ROBERT NASH, S.J

What Habits Have You?

BY REV. ROBERT NASH, S.J

What Happens After Death?

BY REV. G. J. MACGILLIVRAY, M.A

What I Found

BY OWEN FRANCIS DUDLEY

What Is Free Will?

What Is God’s Law For Man?

BY REV. J. C. HOUPERT, S.J

What Is Life?

REV. JAMES CUNNINGHAM, C.S.P

What Is The “christian science” Religion?

BY REV. DR. L. RUMBLE M.S.C

What Shall I Say To Him?

BY SISTER M. EMMANUEL, O.S.B

What The Church Has Done For The Worker

B.A. SANTAMARIA, B.A., LL.B

What The Church Means To Us

BY REV. STEPHEN J. BROWN, S.J

What The Mass Means

BY REV. G. P. FLATLEY

What Think You of Christ?

ROBERT NASH, S.J

What To Do About Temptation

DONALD F. MILLER, C.SS.R

What Will The Neighbours Think?

BY REV. WILLIAM P. O’KEEFE, C.M

What’s So New About The ‘Newage Movement’?

REVEREND DR. L. RUMBLE, M.S.C

When Is Company-Keeping Lawful And Prudent?

When Mary Walked The Earth

DANIEL A. LORD, S. J

When Sorrow Comes

BYDANIEL A. LORD, S. J

When You Pray

BY REV. ROBERT NASH; S. J

Where All Roads Lead

G. K. CHESTERTON

White Horsemen

BY M. P. LINEHAN

Who Is God?

MGR. P. E. HALLETT

Who Is Padre Pio?

Who Made Man?

REV. J. C. HOUPERT, S. J

Whom God Hath Joined

BY REV. J. ELLIOT ROSS, C.SS.P

Why Apparitions?

BY FATHER M. A. RICAUD, O. P TRANSLATED FROM THE FRENCH BY A DOMINICAN FATHER

Why Are We Baptised?

MGR. P.E. HALLETT

Why Attend Sunday Mass?

BY JOHN A. O’BRIEN, PH.D

Why Be A Catholic?

WARREN C. LILLY, S.J

Why Catholics Pray To The Blessed Virgin

BY THE RIGHT REV. MONSIGNOR CANON MOYES, D.D

Why Confess To A Priest?

BY MARTIN J. SCOTT, S.J

Why I Left The Church of England

BY JAMES BRITTEN, K.C.S.G

Why Ideals Wilt

BY REV. ROBERT NASH, S.J

Why Must I Suffer?

BY REV. ROBERT NASH, S.J

Why Not Be A Priest?

BY REV. P. J. GEARON, O.CARM., D.D., B.A

Why Not Be A Saint?

FR JOHN O’BRIEN, PH.D

Why Not Be A True Bible Christian?

BY SIR STUART COATS, BT., K.C.P

Why Not Share The Faith?

BY A. R. WINTER, C.SS.R

Why Worry!

BY WILLIAM LAWSON, S.J

Why You Should Be A Catholic

BY REV. L RUMBLE, M.S.C., S.T.D

Why You Should Be A Catholic 2

BY THE MOST REV. JOHN F. NOLL, D.D. LL.D

Words of Consolation For The Sick And Afflicted

Words of Encouragement

ARRANGED BY REV. F. DEVAS, S. J

Would It Be Right?

BY V. J. MATTHEWS

| Y |

You Are Christ In The World

BY FR. A. CONNORS, S.M

You Are So Important!

RICHARD L. ROONEY, S.J

You Can’t Live That Way

BY DANIEL A. LORD, S.J

Youare Your Child’s Best Teacher

REV. GEORGE KELLY

Your Job As A Parent

REV. GEORGE KELLY

Your Life And The Stars

BY D.G.M. JACKSON

Your Mass—Your Life

ILLUSTRATIONS

PUBLISHER II

THE CATHOLIC COLLECTION:

734 CATHOLIC ESSAYS AND NOVELS ON

AUTHENTIC CATHOLIC TEACHING

A Novena of The Holy Spirit

BY ST ALPHONSUS LIGUORI

INDEX

MEDITATIONS FOR EACH DAY OF THE NOVENA, BEGINNING WITH THE FEAST OF THE ASCENSION (THIS NOVENA CAN BE PRAYED THROUGHOUT THE YEAR)

THE NOVENA of the Holy Spirit is the chief of all novenas because it was the first that was ever celebrated, and that by the Apostles and Mary in the upper room, and was distinguished by so many remarkable wonders and gifts, principally by the gift of the same Holy Spirit, a gift merited for us by the Passion of Jesus Christ himself.

Jesus himself made this known to us when he said to his disciples that if he did not die, he could not send us the Holy Spirit: “If I go not, the Paraclete will not come to you; but if I go, I will send him to you” (John 16:7). We know well by faith that the Holy Spirit is the love that the Father and the eternal Word bear one to the other; and therefore the gift of love, which the Lord infuses into our souls, and which is the greatest of all gifts, is particularly attributed to the Holy Spirit, as St. Paul says, “the charity of God is poured forth in our hearts by the Holy Spirit, who is given to us” (Rom.5: 5).

In this novena, therefore, we must consider, above all, the great value of divine love, in order that we may desire to obtain it, and endeavour by devout exercises, and especially by prayer, to be made partakers of it, since God has promised it to him who asks for it with humility: “your Father from heaven [will] give the good Spirit to them that ask him!” (Luke 11: 13).

MEDITATION 1. LOVE IS A FIRE THAT INFLAMES THE HEART

GOD HAD ORDERED, in the ancient law, that there should be a fire kept continually burning on his altar: “The fire on the altar shall always burn” (Lev. 6:12). St. Gregory says that the altars of God are our hearts, where he desires that the fire of his divine love should always be burning; and therefore the eternal Father, not satisfied with having given us his Son Jesus Christ to save us by his death, would also give us the Holy Spirit, that he might dwell in our souls and keep them constantly on fire with love.

And Jesus himself declared that he had come into the world on purpose to inflame our hearts with this holy fire, and that he desired nothing more than to see it kindled: “I am come to cast fire on the earth: and what will I, but that it be kindled?” (Luke 12:49). Forgetting, therefore, the injuries and ingratitude he received from men on this earth, when he had ascended into heaven he sent down upon us the Holy Spirit.

Oh, most loving Redeemer, thou dost, then, love us as well in thy sufferings and ignominies as in thy kingdom of glory! This is why the Holy Spirit chose to appear in the upper room under the form of tongues of fire: “And there appeared to them parted tongues as it were of fire” (Acts 2:3). And therefore the Church teaches us to pray: “May the Holy Spirit, we beseech thee, O Lord, inflame us with that fire which our Jesus Christ came to cast upon the earth, and which he ardently desired should be enkindled.”

This was the holy fire which has inflamed the saints to do such great things for God, to love their enemies, to desire contempt, to deprive themselves of all earthly goods, and to embrace with delight even torments and death. Love cannot remain idle and never says, “This is enough.” The soul that loves God, the more she does for her beloved the more she desires to do, in order to please him and to attract to herself his affections. This holy fire is enkindled by mental prayer. If, therefore, we desire to burn with love for God, let us love prayer; that is the blessed furnace in which this divine ardour is enkindled.

AFFECTIONS AND PRAYERS

O my God, up to now I have done nothing for Thee Who hast done so much for me. My coldness could well make

Thee cast me away from Thee. But, O Holy Spirit, make warm what is cold. Deliver me from my lack of fervour and make me burn with the desire to please Thee. I now wish to deny all that pleases me. I would rather die than displease Thee in the least thing. To Thee Who hast appeared in the form of fiery tongues, I consecrate my tongue that it may not offend Thee again. Thou didst give it to me to praise Thee, but I, I have used it to injure Thee and cause others to offend Thee. I am sorry for my sins. For the love of Jesus Christ Who honoured Thee so much by His tongue when He walked this earth, grant that henceforward I may honour Thee by praising Thee, by asking often for Thy help and by speaking of Thy goodness and the infinite love Thou deservest.

I love Thee, my supreme Good, I love Thee, O loving God.

O Mary, most beloved Spouse of the Holy Spirit, obtain for me this holy fire.

MEDITATION 2. LOVE IS A LIGHT THAT ENLIGHTENS THE SOUL

ONE of the greatest evils which the sin of Adam has produced in us is that darkening of our reason by means of the passions which cloud our mind. Oh, how miserable is that soul which allows itself to be ruled by any passion! Passion is, as it were, a vapour, a veil which prevents our seeing the truth. How can he fly from evil who does not know what is evil?

Besides, this darkness increases in proportion as our sins increase. But the Holy Spirit, who is called “most blessed light,” is he who not only inflames our hearts to love him through his divine splendour but also dispels our darkness and shows us the vanity of earthly things, the value of eternal goods, the importance of salvation, the worth of grace, the goodness of God, the infinite love which he deserves and the immense love which he bears us. “The sensual man perceiveth not these things that are of the Spirit of God” (I Cor. 2:14).

A man who is absorbed in the pleasures of the world knows little of these truths and therefore, unfortunate that he is, loves what he ought to hate and hates what he ought to love. St. Mary Magdalene of Pazzi exclaimed: “Oh, love not known! Oh, love not loved!” And St. Teresa said that God is not loved because he is not known. Therefore the saints were always seeking light from God: “Send forth thy light; illuminate my darkness; open thou my eyes.” Yes, because without light we cannot avoid precipices nor find God.

AFFECTIONS AND PRAYERS

Holy and Divine Spirit, I believe that Thou art true God, yet one God with the Father and the Son. I adore Thee and acknowledge Thee as the Giver of those lights which make me know the evil I have done in offending Thee and the obligation I have to love Thee. I thank Thee for these lights. I am sorry for having offended Thee.

I have deserved to be left in darkness, but I see that I am not yet abandoned by Thee. Continue, O eternal Spirit, to enlighten my mind. Make me know still more Thy infinite goodness. Give me strength now to love Thee with all my heart. Add grace upon grace so that I may be gently drawn to Thee and compelled to love none but Thee. I ask for this grace through the merits of Jesus Christ.

I love Thee, infinite Goodness, I love Thee more than myself. I will be all Thine. Accept me and do not permit me to be separated from Thee again. O my Mother, Mary, help me always by thy intercession.

MEDITATION 3. LOVE IS A FOUNTAIN THAT SATISFIES

LOVE is also called “a living fountain, fire, and charity.” Our blessed Redeemer said to the Samaritan woman: “He that shalldrink of the water that I will give him, shall not thirst for ever” (John 4:13). Love is the water which satisfies our thirst; he who loves God really with his whole heart neither seeks nor desires anything else, because in God he finds every good.

Therefo re, satisfied with God, he often joyfully exclaims, “My God and my all!” My God, thou art my whole good. But the Almighty complains that many souls go about seeking for fleeting and miserable pleasures from creatures and leave him, who is the infinite goodand fountain of all joy: “They have forsaken me, the fountain of living water, and have dug to themselves cisterns, broken cisterns, that can hold no water” (Jer. 2:13).

Therefore God, who loves us and desires to see us happy, cries out and makes known to all: “If any man thirst, let him come to me, and drink” (John 7:37). He who desires to be happy, let him come to me; and I will give him the Holy Spirit, who will make him blessed both in this life and the next. “He that believeth in me” (He goes on to say), “as the scripture saith, out of his belly shall flow rivers of living water” (John 7:38). He, therefore, who believes in Jesus Christ and loves him shall be enriched with so much grace that from his heart (the heart, that is the will, is the belly of the soul) shall flow many fountains of holy virtues, which shall not only serve to preserve his own life, but also to give life to others.

And this water is the Holy Spirit, the substantial love which Jesus Christ promised to send us from heaven after his ascension: “Now this he said of the Spirit which they should receive, who believed in him: for as yet the Spirit was not given, because Jesus was not yet glorified” (John 7:39). The key which opens the channels of this blessed water is holy prayer, which obtains every good for us in virtue of the promise, “Ask, and you shall receive.” We are blind, poor, and weak; but prayer obtains for us light, strength, and abundance of grace. Theodoret said: “Prayer, though but one, can do all things.” He who prays receives all he wants. God desires to give us his graces; but he will have us pray for them.

AFFECTIONS AND PRAYERS

Lord,”give me this water.” Yes, Lord Jesus, I will say to Thee like the Samaritan woman: give me this water of divine love that I may turnaway from this world and live only for Thee Who art so lovely. “Water that which is dry.” My soul is like a dry land where nothing but the briars and thorns of sin grow. Ah! give me, before I pass out of this world, an outpouring of divine grace to make my soul fruitful in works worthy of Thy heavenly glory.

O Fountain of living water, O supreme Good, too often have I left Thee for the corrupt waters of this earth which have deprived me of Thy love. Why did not death overtake me before I offended Thee?

In the future I will seek nothing but Thee, O my God. Assist me and grant that I may be faithful to Thee. Mary, my hope, keep me ever under they protection.

MEDITATION 4. LOVE IS A DEW WHICH FERTILIZES

THUS does Holy Church teach us to pray: “May the infusion of the Holy Spirit cleanse our hearts, and fertilize them by the interior sprinkling of his dew.” Love fertilizes the good desires, the holy purposes, and the good works of our souls: these are the flowers and fruits which the grace of the Holy Spirit produces. Love is called dew, because it cools the heart of bad passions and of temptations. Therefore the Holy Spirit is called refreshment and pleasing coolness in the heat. This dew descends into our hearts in time of prayer.

A quarter of an hour’s pray er is sufficient to appease every passion of hatred or of inordinate love, however ardent it may be: “He brought me into the cellar of wine, he set in order charity in me” (Cant. 2: 4). Holy meditation is the cellar where love is set in order, so that we love our neighbour as ourselves and God above everything. He who loves God loves prayer. He who does not love prayer will find it morally impossible to overcome his passions.

AFFECTIONS AND PRAYERS

O holy and Divine Spirit, I will no longer live to myself. I will spend the remaining days of my life in loving and pleasing Thee. For that purpose I beseech Thee to grant me the gift of prayer. Come into my heart and teach me how to pray as I ought. Give me strength not to neglect prayer when my soul is weary and dry before Thee. Give me the spirit of prayer, that is, the grace to pray always and to say those prayers that are most agreeable to Thy divine Heart.

My sins have endangered my salvation, but I understand from so many kindnesses in my regard that Thou wishest me to be saved and to become a saint. I will become a saint to please Thee. I love Thee, O supreme Good, O my Love and my All. I give myself wholly to Thee.

O Mary, my hope, protect me.

MEDITATION 5. LOVE IS A REPOSE THAT REFRESHES

LOVE is also called “in labour rest, in mourning comfort.” Love is repose that refreshes, because the principal office of love is to unite the will of the lover to that of the beloved one. To a soul that loves God, in every affront it receives, in every sorrow it endures, in every loss which happens to it, the knowledge that it is the will of its beloved for it to suffer these trials is enough to comfort it. It finds peace and contentment in all tribulations merely by saying, This is the will of my God. This is that peace which surpasses all the pleasures of sense, “the peace of God, which surpasseth all understanding” (Phil. 4:7). St. Mary Magdalene of Pazzi merely by saying “The will of God” was always filled with joy.

In this life everyone must carry his cross. But as St. Teresa says, the cross is heavy for him who drags it, not for him who embraces it. Thus our Lord knows well how to strike and how to heal: “He woundeth, and cureth” as Job said (5:18). The Holy Spirit, by his sweet unction, renders even ignominies andtorments sweet and pleasant: “Yea, Father; for so hath it seemed good in thy sight” (Matt. 11:26). Thus ought we to say in all adversities that happen to us: “So be it done, Lord, because so hath it pleased thee.” And when the fear of any temporal evil that may befall us alarms us, let us always say: “Do what thou wilt, my God; whatever thou dost, I accept it all.” And it is a very good thing to offer oneself thus constantly during the day to God, as St. Teresa did.

AFFECTIONS AND PRAYERS

O my God, how often have I opposed and despised Thy will to do my own. I am sorry for this evil more than for any other. Henceforward, O Lord, I will love Thee with all my heart.”Speak,Lord, for thy servant heareth.” Make me know what Thou wouldst have me do and I will do it all. I will always desire and love nothing but Thy will.

O Holy Spirit, help my weakness. Thou art goodness itself: how can I love anything but Thee? Ah! may Thy holy love draw my whole heart to Thee! I leave all things to give myself entirely to Thee. Accept me and help me.

O my Mother Mary, I trust in thee.

MEDITATION 6. LOVE IS THE VIRTUE WHICH GIVES US STRENGTH

“LOVE is strong as death” (Cant. 8:6). As there is no created strength which can resist death, so there is no difficulty for a loving soul which love cannot overcome. When there is a question of pleasing its beloved, love conquers all, losses, contempt, and sorrow. “Nothing is so hard, but that the fire of love can conquer it.” This is the most certain mark with which to know if a soul really loves God, if it is as faithful in love when things are adverse as when they are prosperous. St. Francis de Sales said that “God is quite as amiable when he chastises as when he consoles us, because he does all for love.”

Indeed, when he strikes us most in this life, then it is that he loves us most. St. John Chrysostom esteemed St. Paul in chains more fortunate than St. Paul caught up into the third heaven. Hence the holy martyrs in the midst of their torments rejoiced and thanked the Lord, as for the greatest favour that could fall to their lot, that of having to suffer for his love. And other saints, where there were no tyrants to afflict them, became their own executioners by the penances which they inflicted upon themselves in order to please God. St. Augustine says that “For that which men love, either no labour is felt, or the labour itself is loved.”

AFFECTIONS AND PRAYERS

O God of my soul, I pretend to love Thee, and yet I do nothing for Thy love. Would it not be a sign that I love Thee not, or very little ? But send me the Holy Spirit, O Jesus, the Holy Spirit Who will give me strength to suffer for Thy love and do something for Thee before I die. I pray Thee, O my beloved Redeemer, let me not die now, cold and ungrateful to Thee as I have been. Though I have committed so many sins for which I should be in hell, grant me the courage to love suffering, to do something for Thee.

O my God, Whose nature is all goodness and love, Thou desirest to be the guest of my soul from which 1have so often driven thee. Oh! come and dwell in it: be Thou its Master and make it all Thine.

I love Thee, O my Lord, but if I love Thee Thou art already with me, since St. John assures us that “he who abides in love abides in God and God in him,” Thou art within me then, O my God. Make my love more ardent still. Bind me with stronger chains that I may desire, seek and love nothing but Thee. Let me never be separated from Thy love.

I desire to be all Thine, O my Jesus.

O Mary, my Queen and Advocate, obtain for me love and perserverance.

MEDITATION 7. LOVE CAUSES GOD TO DWELL IN OUR SOULS

THE HOLY SPIRIT is called “Sweet Guest of the soul.” This was the great promise made by Jesus Christ to those who love him, when he said: “If you love me, keep my commandments. And I will ask the Father, and he shall give you another Paraclete, that he may abide with you forever. The Spirit of truth . . . shall abide with you, and shall be in you” (John 14: 5–17). For the Holy Spirit never forsakes a soul if He is not driven away from it; he does not forsake, unless he be first forsaken.

God, then, dwells in a soul that loves him. But he declares that he is not satisfied if we do not love him with our whole heart. St. Augustine tells us that the Roman Senate would not admit Jesus Christ into the number of their gods because they said that he was a proud god, who would have none other beloved but himself. And so it is. He will have no rivals in the heart that loves him; and when he sees that he is not the only object loved, he is jealous (so to speak).

St. James writes of those creatures who divide up with him the heart which he desires to have all to himself: “Do you think that the scripture saith in vain: To envy doth the spirit covet which dwelleth in you” (James 4: 5). In short, as St. Jerome says, Jesus is jealous, “Zelotypus est Jesus.” Therefore the heavenly spouse praises that soul which, like the turtledove, lives in solitude and hidden from the world (Cant. 1: 9). Because he does not choose that the world should take a part of that love which he desires to have all to himself, therefore he also praises his spouse by calling her “a garden enclosed” (Cant. 4: 12), a garden closed against all earthly love. Do we doubt that Jesus deserves our whole love? “He gave himself wholly to you,” says St. John Chrysostom, “he left nothing for himself.” He has given you all his blood and his life; there is nothing left to give.

AFFECTIONS AND PRAYERS

I understand, O my God, that Thou wantest me to be all Thine. Many times have I driven Thee from my soul, but Thou didst not shrink from returning to be united to me again. Ah! take possession of my entire self, for today I give myself wholly to Thee. Do Thou accept me, O Jesus, and do not permit that I should again live in the future, no, not even for a moment, without Thy love.

Thou seekest me and I seek none but Thee. Thou lovest me and I love Thee. Since Thou lovest me, bind me to Thyself that I may never abandon Thee.

O Mary, Queen of heaven, I trust in thee.

MEDITATION 8. LOVE IS A BOND WHICH BINDS

AS THE HOLY SPIRIT, who is uncreated love, is the indissoluble bond which binds the Father to the eternal Word, so he also unites the soul with God. “Charity is a virtue,” says St. Augustine, “uniting us with God.” Hence, full of joy, St. Laurence Justinian exclaims: Love, your bond has such strength that it is able to bind even God and unite him to our souls. The bonds of the world are bonds of death; but the bonds of God are bonds of life and salvation (Ecclus.6:31), because the bonds of God by means of love unite us to God, who is our true and only life.

Before the coming of Jesus Christ, men fled from God and being attached to the earth refused to unite themselves to their Creator. But a loving God has drawn them to himself by the bonds of love as he promised through the prophet Osee: “I will draw them with the cords of Adam, with the bands of love” (11: 4). These bands are the benefits, the lights, the calls to his love, the promises of paradise which he makes to us, the gift which he has bestowed upon us of Jesus Christ in the sacrifice of the cross and in the sacrament of the altar, and finally, the gift of his Holy Spirit.

Therefore the prophet exclaims, “Loose the bonds from off thy neck, O captive daughter of Sion” (Isa 52: 2). Oh my soul, you who are created for heaven, loose yourself from the bonds of earth, and unite yourself to God by the bonds of holy love: “Have charity, which is the bond of perfection” (Col 3: 14). Love is a bond which unites with herself all other virtues and makes the soul perfect. “Love, and do what thou wilt,” said St. Augustine. Love God, and do what you wish, because he who loves God tries to avoid causing any displeasure to his beloved and seeks in all things to please him.

AFFECTIONS AND PRAYERS

O my dear Jesus, Thou hast put me under a sweet obligation to love Thee, and how much it has cost Thee to win my love! I would be an ungrateful wretch if I loved Thee little after that, or if I let creatures share my heart with Thee Who hast given Thy life and Thy blood for me.

I wish to detach myself from everything and place all my affections in Thee alone. But I am weak and unable to realize this desire. Thou Who hast inspired it, help me to bring it into effect.

O my beloved Jesus, pierce my heart with the arrows of Thy love so that it may sigh ever after Thee and be melted in Thee! Thou alone I seek, Thou alone may I always seek. None but Thee may I desire and find!

My Jesus, I desire only Thee and nothing more. Grant that I may repeat it always during my life, and especially at the moment of my death: I desire only Thee and nothing more.

O my Mother Mary, from henceforward make me desire nothing but God.

MEDITATION 9. LOVE IS A TREASURE CONTAINING EVERY GOOD

LOVE is that treasure of which the Gospel says that we must leave all to obtain it, because love makes us partakers of the friendship of God, “an infinite treasure to men! which they that use, become the friends of God” (Wis. 7:14). Oh man, says St. Augustine, why, then, do you go about seeking for good things? Seek that one good alone in which all other good things are contained.

But we cannot find God, who is this sovereign good, if we do not forsake the things of the earth. St. Teresa writes, “Detach your heart from creatures, and you will find God.” He who finds God finds all that he can desire: “Delight in the Lord, and he will give thee the requests of thy heart” (Ps. 36: 4). The human heart is constantly seeking after good things that may make it happy; but if it seeks them from creatures, however much it may acquire, it will never be satisfied; if it seeks God alone, God will satisfy all its desires. Who are the happiest people in this world, if not the saints? And why? Because they desire and seek only God.

A tyrant offered gold and gems to St. Clement, in order to persuade him to renounce Jesus Christ. The saint exclaimed with a sigh, “Is God to be put into competition with a little dirt? Blessed is he who knows this treasure of divine love, and strives to obtain it. He who obtains it will of his own accord divest himself of everything else, that he may have nothing else but God.” “When the house is on fire,” says St. Francis de Sales, “all the goods are thrown out of the windows.” And Father Paul Segneri the Younger, a great servant of God, used to say that love is a thief which robs us of all earthly affections, so that we can say, “And what else do I desire but thee alone, my Lord?”

AFFECTIONS AND PRAYERS

I have not lived for Thee in the past, O my God, but rather for myself and my own gratifications. I have accordingly turned my back upon Thee, my supreme good. But I take heart at these words of Jeremias: “The Lord is good to the soul that seekethhim.” He says then that Thou art all goodness for him who seeks Thee.

O my beloved Lord, I know well the evil I have done in going away from Thee and I am sorry for it with all my heart. I know the infinite treasure we find in Thee. I will profit by this light that Thou givest me. I leave all things and choose Thee for my only love.

My God, my love, my all, I love Thee, I sigh after Thee, I desire Thee. Come, O Holy Spirit, come and consume in me by Thy sacred fire every affection that is not for Thee. Make me all Thine and grant me the grace to overcome everything in order to please Thee.

O Mary, my Advocate and Mother, help me by thy prayers.

NOVENA RESOLUTION

THE MORE we love God, the more holy we become. St. Francis Borgia says it is prayer that introduces divine love into the human heart and mortification that withdraws the heart from the world and renders it capable of receiving this holy fire. The more there is of the world in the heart, the less room there is for holy love: “Wisdom is [not to be] found in the land of them that live in delights” (Job 28: 12–13). Hence the saints have always sought to mortify as much as possible their self-love and their senses. The saints are few, but we must live with the few if we will be saved with the few. St. Bernard says, “That cannot be perfect which is not singular.” He who would lead a perfect life must lead a singular one.

But above all, in order to become saints, it is necessary to have the desire to be saints; we must have the desire and the resolution. Some are always desiring, but they never begin to put their hands to the work. “Of these irresolute souls,” says St. Teresa, “the devil has no fear.” On the other hand, the saint said, “God is a friend of generous souls.”

The devil tries to make it appear to us as pride to think of doing great things for God. it would indeed be pride in us if we thought of doing them all by ourselves, trusting in our own strength; but it is not pride to resolve to become saints trusting in God and saying, “I can do all things in him who strengtheneth me.” (Phil 4: 13). We must therefore be of good courage, make strong resolutions, and begin. Prayer can do everything. What we cannot do by our own strength, we can do easily with the help of God, who has promised to give us whatever we ask of him: “You shall ask whatever you will, and it shall be done unto you.” (Jn 15: 7).

AFFECTIONS AND PRAYERS

Sweet Redeemer of my soul, Thou desirest to be loved by me and Thou commandest me to love Thee with all my heart, and with all my heart I desire to love Thee, O my Jesus. I will even go so far as to say to Thee: O my God, such is the trust I have in Thy mercy that my sins do not inspire me with fear, since I hate and detest them above every other evil.

I know besides that Thou rememberest not the offences of one who repents and who loves Thee. Nay more, since I have offended Thee more than others, I wish to love Thee more than others.

O my Lord, Thou wantest me to be a saint and I wish to become one in order to please Thee. I love Thee, infinite Goodness. I give myself entirely to Thee. Thou art my one good, my only love. Do not turn me away, O my love. Make me all Thine. Do not permit me to displease Thee again. Grant that I may sacrifice myself entirely for Thee, as Thou hast sacrificed Thyself entirely for me.

Mary, most loving and beloved Spouse of the Holy Spirit, obtain for me love and faithfulness. Amen. Amen. Amen.

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A Priest

BY REV. ROBERT NASH, S.J

INDEX

In the heart of every right-minded Catholic there is firmly implanted an instinctive reverence for the priesthood. It is no matter of surprise to him to read of the tributes of respect paid to priests, even by those in high places. He can understand quite well that the Emperor Constantine would never himself sit down to table until the last priest was seated. It does not seem to him any extravagant veneration to find St. Catherine of Siena kneeling on the dusty roadside and kissing the footprints of a priest. He gives unhesitating approval to the sentiment of St. Francis of Assisi who writes that if he met a priest and an angel he would salute first the priest, and only after the priest, the angel. And he is inclined to believe or at least countenance, the anecdote which relates that before a certain priest’s ordination his angel guardian was seen walking before him, but after ordination the angel followed behind. All this and much more, indicative of a deep reverence for the priesthood, seems to a Catholic the most natural thing in the world.

In much the same way does he regard the attacks of Christ’s enemies on the priesthood. He expects the priest, as a matter of course, to be made a target for special venom in time of persecution. Our Lord promised His priests as much. “If the world hate you, know ye that it hath hated Me before you. If you had been of the world, the world would love its own; but because you are not of the world, but I have chosen you out of the world, therefore the world hateth you. Remember My word which I said to you: “The servant is not greater than his Master.” If they have persecuted Me, they will also persecute you.”

Passionate devotion to the priesthood on the one hand and violent hatred on the other -both are fully accounted for whenwe recall Our Lord’s words to the effect that His priests are “chosen out of the world.” They are His in quite a peculiar sense. Indeed so close is the bond of friendship between Christ and His priest that the glories of the priesthood are most easily summed up by saying that the priest stands before the world as “another Christ.” At Our Lord’s Baptism theheavenly Father pointed to Christ, standing there in the waters of the Jordan, and declared to the world: “This is My beloved Son in Whom I am well pleased. Hear ye Him.” That same wonderful declaration the Father makes in favour of His priest. The Sacrament of Holy Orders imprints on the priest a “character” or mark by virtue of which he is set apart as being, in quite an especial manner, the property of God. It is of course most true that every creature belongs absolutely to God, and that sanctifying grace elevates the creature to the wondrous dignity of Son of God. But in addition to this the priest is the well-beloved son; he is the Benjamin in God’s great family, for his soul is enriched with exceptional graces. Theologians call him a “persona sacra”-asacred person. A church is “sacred” because it is set apart exclusively for the service of God. A vessel is “sacred” when it is used only at Mass or to hold the Blessed Sacrament. In the same way a priest is “sacred” because he has entered into a contract with God to spend himself exclusively on what has to do with the service of God, and on His side God has accepted this offering and has sealed the priest as His well-beloved son. Just as the image stamped on the coin shows it to be true, or as the signature at the foot of a document proves it to be genuine, so this “character” or mark set upon the priest by God entitles him to a place of special honour in the ranks of God’s friends. That is why the priest, for the very reason that he is “another Christ,” must expect love from those who love Christ, and bitter opposition from those who hate Christ.

Before embarking on the task of trying to unfold, even a little, the glories of the priesthood, it will be worth while delaying on that phrase of Our Lord: “Chosen out of the world.” It is not easy to express the honour conferred upon the priest that is implied in these words, Long ago, early one morning, Our Lord, after a night spent in prayer, walked slowly down the slope of a hill and looked out over the multitudes that were swarming into the valley at His feet. He lifted up both arms in a commanding gesture showing that He wished to hold the crowd in check, and then, from those thousands standing there before Him, He singled out twelve men to be His own special friends, men whom He would train Himself, and to whom He would entrust posts of danger or distinction in the kingdom He was about to establish. A vocation to the priesthood implies that same choice. The whole world lies before Christ still; still He looks out over its teeming millions, only to pass them by in favour of the man whom He wants to be His priest, “chosen out of the world,” His “alter ego,” His other self. Chosen by Christ the Son of God; chosen by Christ out of such a vast multitude; chosen by Christ to be entrusted by Him with a special mission-that is the priest’s vocation. Such a choice, by such a Person, and for such a purpose! And what anxiety Christ shows for their training throughout those three years of His public life! He will have them constantly by His side teaching them by His example. He will show them how to pray, how to preach, how to deal with the various types of men whom they will meet in the course of their work for souls. He will labour to effect a complete change in their mentality, for they must detach their affections from money and money’s worth and make it their one concern to lay up treasure in heaven. Then, when He has them about Him for the last time in the Supper Room, with what love He exposes His Sacred Heart before them! Even His divine eloquence is taxed in His effort to find words that will make them realise that that love is no chimera but a living flame which He wants to enkindle within their hearts, so that they may go out into the world and in their turn set other hearts on fire. It is the last time they will be together, and He knows how men cherish with peculiar affection a parting gift from a loved friend. With all this circumstance of love surrounding the giving, He hands them His parting Gift-the Blessed Sacrament and the power to consecrate! Again omnipotence is taxing its powers. Such a Gift! At such a time! And in such a manner!

Judge from all this what Jesus Christ thinks of His priests. Now He speaks to the Father about them, and again there is the noteof deep anxiety. “I have manifested Thy name to them. . . . I kept them in Thy name . . . I pray not that Thou shouldst take them out of the world, but that Thou shouldst keep them from evil . . . Father, I will that the love wherewith Thou hast loved Me may be inthem, and I in them . . . Holy Father, keep them in Thy name whom Thou hast given Me.” One would think He had done nothing else but train these twelve, and that now at the end the needs of the whole world were forgotten in His concern that “His own” should be preserved from harm.

In view of all this may it not be said that if in anybody we may countenance legitimate pride it is in the priest? If all of us are bound to gratitude to God for His manifold gifts, who can be surprised at the wave of gratitude that sweeps over the soul of the priest as often as he recalls, on the one hand his own many miseries, his numerous sins, his daily and perhaps almost hourly failures, and then on the other, the marvellous condescension of Christ, Who, knowing all about him, has bent down over him and lifted him up from the mire in order to place him with the princes of His people? And if the priest, by way of giving tangible proof of his gratitude, tries to tell of some of the great things wrought by Christ’s priesthood in his soul, in the hope of exciting others to desire so holy a state and to pray that they, too, may be “chosen out of the world,” who shall accuse him of egoism? There is a wise and a holy egoism and it finds its place in the canticle of the humble, self-effacing Maiden of Nazareth. The Mother of God sang of the great things done to her by Him Who is mighty. Still the Mighty One does great things, exercising His divine power through the weak instrumentality of His priests. Can it be otherwise than fitting that these great things too should be sung, and that all men should praise His mercy which reacheth from generation to generation?

We speak of the events of Our Lord’s life as “mysteries” because they contain a hidden or “mystical” meaning. For example, the cureof the blind man is a “mystery” because it is symbolical of the light of vision which Christ Our Lord has brought to the souls of men. Similar mystical” or hidden meanings or applications may easily be discovered in most of the events of Christ’s life.

No w the life of a priest is also a “mystery” for in it there is much more than appears outwardly. In a very real sense it is an extension or a continuation of the life of Our Lord Himself. This is explained with wonderful beauty and accuracy by Our Lord when He tells His priests that they are the branches and He the Vine, and that if the branch is to bring forth fruit it must be grafted upon the Vine. From the Vine it must draw the sap, divine grace, which is to give it life. It is true that this principle of divine life is imparted to everybody who is in the state of grace, but to the priest there is vouchsafed besides, an awful power over Christ’s Real Body in the Blessed Eucharist, and over His Mystical Body which is the Church. It is this twofold power which makes the priest “another Christ” in a way different from and far superior to the way that that great title can be applied to others, even when they share fully in the life of God by sanctifying grace.

First, then, there is the priest’s power over Christ’s Real Body, the Blessed Eucharist- a power which surpasses all others ever given to man or angels. Clad in his priestly vestments, he stands, morning after morning at the altar of sacrifice and summons the Second Person of the All-Holy Trinity from heaven. And to His priest’s summons, Jesus Christ gives entire and instant obedience. “Opriest,” exclaims St. Augustine, “He Who created you gives you power to create Himself!” Every morning at Mass, Jesus Christ is held up in the priest’s hands, like the daily sunrise to send the light of His divine wisdom into men’s minds, and the warmth of His divine love into their hearts. Every morning the priest stands face to face before that God with Whom Moses conversed in awe on Sinai. Every morning he enters, like the prophet of old, into the cloud which covers the mountain of sacrifice, and separated from men and the affairs of men, he speaks freely with the Almighty of all that concerns the glory of God and the eternal salvation of men’s souls. He lovingly invites Jesus into his heart and Jesus gladly accepts the invitation. Reverently he takes Jesus Christ into his hands and shows Him to the people. Like another John the priest points to Christ: “Ecce Agnus Dei!” And it is by the ministrations of His priest, that Christ is given to souls and souls to Christ in Holy Communion.

Our Blessed Lady brought Christ into the world once only; the priest does this every time he says Mass. Holy Simeon held Christ in his arms for a few brief moments, and the face of the venerable servant of God lighted up with happiness, and his heart was thrilled with joy when he realised that that little Baby lying there was in very truth the long promised Messiah. But this “other Christ,” the priest, takes Christ’s sacred body into his hands every day, often several times in the same day. St. John, the disciple whom Jesus loved, leaned one night against Christ’s breast at supper and thence drew forth the secrets of love which he was afterwards to clothe in inspired language and give to the world, But that happens to the priest too, and not once but quite often. For does not the priest bear Christ to His sick and dying, sometimes along the crowded thoroughfare of a busy street, sometimes over the weary tracks of a lonely mission, sometimes in the din of battle? Hidden and unknown indeed. Christ and this “other Christ” make their way along, Christ as truly present in that little pyx as he was at the table of the Last Supper, and the priest’s heart as close to the Sacred Heart as was the heart of the disciple whom Jesus loved.

And, at the altar, the priest not merely represents Christ; in a way he repudiates the mystery of the Incarnation. He speaks as though he was, in very truth, Jesus Himself; “This is My Body; This is MyBlood.” Where can words be found adequately to express the overwhelming greatness of all this power?

After Moses had conversed with the Lord on Sinai he came down the mountainside with the tables of the Law in his hands. He had received the commission from God to teach the children of Israel, and as a result of his nearness to God on the mountain the prophet’s face on his return was radiant with light. Men could not endure its brightness and he was forced to wear a veil while speaking to them. The priest too must come down from the mountain and preach to the people. From his contact with Christ he too has been enlightened, and he feels rising up within him the longing to impart that light to others. Here again the priest is the “other Christ,” preaching the eternal truths that came from the lips of Jesus of Nazareth. This “other Christ “moves in and out amongst men, and in every single individual he is absorbingly interested, for in every man, woman and child who crosses his path he sees an immortal soul. That soul is dear to Jesus Christ. It is redeemed by His precious Blood, and its destiny is, in a very short time, to be transplanted from this vale of tears to blossom all the fairer in a richer soil. That soul is destined to live in heaven, a home of everlasting peace and love and light and joy, where “God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes, and death shall be no more, nor mourning, nor crying, nor sorrow shall be any more, for the former things are passed away.” (Apoc. 21,4). To the priest who, as a result of his intimacy with Christ, now sees this life from the standpoint of eternity, how pitiable it must be to watch men toying on the verge of the grave with an empty pleasure that is gone almost before it is tasted, or immersed in pursuit of a gain that rust or moth can so speedily consume, or just drifting aimlessly through life, and in no way interested or concerned about the great Eternity which is on the point of engulfing all these small things, even as an evening tide, sweeps away the castles of sand built by childrenon a summer’s day!

That too is Our Lord’s standpoint. He saw so clearly the value and beauty and destiny of a soul that He was prone to manifest a divine impatience with folk who were engrossed in worldly interests-in their farms, or their buying and selling, in the throwing off of the yoke of a hated foreign oppressor-so engrossed that one would think these things were to last forever. Hence the theme constantly recurring in His teaching to them is the soul and its eternal salvation. He is the Light of the World. He came into the midst of men whose minds were darkened so that He might show them to themselves. The divine light shining from His countenance sent its rays far away beyond the confines of time and reached out mightily unto the portals of eternity. His great task was to rouse men from their listlessness, to startle them into realising that they each had an immortal soul, and that its salvation was so overwhelmingly important that no name was too hard for a folly that would risk it, even to gain the whole world. The same lesson exactly is ever on the lips of the “other Christ,” He comes down from the altar to go out into the world and scatter broadcast “in season and out of season” the great eternal truths of the soul and its salvation. Like His Master he walks through a world sodden in materialism, and dins into men’s ears that they have not here a lasting city, and must seek first the kingdom of God and His justice.

And with what marvellous powers Christ has equipped His priest to fit him for his ta sk of changing men’s hearts, and lifting up their desires from earth to heaven. In his dealings with souls the priest sees, under his own eyes, reproduced in his own life, the very miracles wrought by Jesus Christ Himself in His lifetime. But before we consider the priest actually exercising Christ’s power over souls, it will be well to have a clear notion of the meaning of Christ’s Mystical Body.

St. Paul develops at considerable length the thesis that, by Baptism, we become members of Christ’s Body. “As t he body is one and hath many members,” he writes to the Corinthians, “and all the members of the body, whereas they are many yet are one body, so also is Christ. For in one spirit we were all baptised into one body.” And he pursues the comparison by showing how the members of the human body depend upon each other for their well-being; how they must be “mutually careful, one for another,” rejoicing for each other’s glory, and all suffering together for any misfortune which may fall upon any one of them. There is thus a very close bond of union between the different members of the human body, and St. Paul draws the conclusion that that same union exists between Christ and His Church, and between the different members of the Church. “Now you are the body of Christ,” he declares, “member of member.” He has the same sublime teaching for the Ephesians: “We are members of His Body, of His flesh and of His bones.”

In what sense can it be said that we constitute the Body of Christ? It is clear that the Apostle cannot be speaking of Christ’s realBody Which was crucified on Good Friday; what he means is that we are Christ’s mystical body. We have to try to see what this term stands for.

In every society there must be, between the members, some bond of union which constitutes them “a body.” Thus, for example, a body of men unite to govern a country, to take care of its finances, to manufacture, to sell, to educate the children, to build, to organise a program of sports. On every side we see such “bodies,” linked together by a common interest. This link exists indeed between the members of Christ’s Church, for we are bound together in the Church by one great common interest, the salvation ofour souls. But that link is scarcely sufficient to justify St. Paul’s forceful expression that we are the body of Christ. There is a much stronger bond of union between Christ and ourselves, and it is nothing less than this, that we live the life of Christ. By means of sanctifying grace, the soul is engrafted on Christ, and His life flows freely into the soul, enriching the soul in a truly astonishing manner, beautifying it, and giving it power to perform actions which of itself it never could do.

Divine grace then, links us thus intimately with Christ and makes us His mystical body. By grace we actually become, says St. Peter, “sharers in the divine nature.” Sinners too enjoy membership in this mystical body, though only imperfectly, since they have once received grace through the Sacrament of Baptism. Now this principle of divine life is communicated to our souls by means of the sacraments. The merits of Christ, through which alone we have access to this divine grace, are stored up in the Hill of Calvary as in a great reservoir. The reservoir is infinite in its capacity because the merits of Christ are infinite. The sacraments are like the conduit-pipes by means of which this precious treasure is borne along into our souls. But who will unlock this treasure-house? Where is the key to open up for our souls these “unsearchable riches of Christ?” It has been placed in the hands of His priest, for grace comes through the sacraments, and the priest is the ordinary minister of the sacraments. Hence his power over the mystical body of Christ.

What are the priest’s credentials for exercising this power? Our Lord Himself tells us. To His priest He gives the divine commission to baptise and to preach the gospel to every creature. To His priest He says: “As the Father hath sent Me, I also send you.” To the priest He gives power to absolve from sin, even as He absolved; “Whose sins you shall forgive they are forgiven them, and whose sins you shall retain they are retained,” At the Last Supper, having changed bread and wine into His own Body and Blood, He imparted to His priests a like wonderful power: “Do this in commemoration of Me.” And the priest need not fear to speak Christ’s message to the world, for he has the divine authority of Christ behind his words:

“He that heareth you heareth Me, and he that despiseth you despiseth Me.” “It is not you that speak but the spirit of your Father that speaketh in you.” (St. Matt. x, 18, 19). Surely from all this it is abundantly clear that the priest is indeed Christ’s ambassador, fully accredited, fully authorised to speak in His name, and to open to the faithful the treasures of divine grace stored tip through the merits of Christ. It will now be in place to look at the priest actually engaged in exercising this divine power in his dealings with the souls of men, and to note carefully the striking similarity between his work and the work done by Jesus Christ.

During His lifetime men possessed by evil spirits were more than once brought before Our Lord to be cured. Thus, St. Mark describes a broken-hearted father beseeching Christ to expel an unclean spirit from his son. And with power and authority He commanded the evil spirit: “I command thee to go out from him and enter not into him any more.” “And going out,” adds the evangelist, “and greatly tearing him, he went out of him.” To the “other Christ” too, is frequently brought a child possessed by an evil spirit. Through no fault of its own every child born into this world enters life seared with original sin. No sooner is the child born than the first care of its parents is to bring it to the priest, and, like the father in the gospel, to entreat him: “If thou canst do anything, help us, having compassion on us.” And the “other Christ” looks, as His divine Master would look, at the poor possessed child before him, and with all the dignity and authority of Christ he addresses the unclean spirit: “Depart, unclean spirit, out of this creature fashioned of God, Get thee hence, and give place to the Holy Spirit of God.” At that instant the idol of sin is shattered into a thousand fragments in the soul of that little child, and in its place God sets up His own kingdom by grace. Why? Because Satan dare not disobey the command of Christ spoken by the lips of the priest. One does not wish to equate the unbaptised infant with the case of ordinary diabolical possession, but the rite of baptism performed by the priest cannot but remind one forcibly of the exorcisms performed by Our divine Lord on earth.

In Christ, the lepers, outcasts from society, found a friend and a helper. One day a poor victim of the dread disease crawled out after Him and fell on his knees before Him, and stretching out imploringly those hands of his which had no fingers, he cried: “Lord, if Thou wilt, Thou canst make me clean,” Our Lord looked at him pityingly, this wretched, broken specimen of humility kneeling there before Him, and, with exquisite refinement of kindness, He touched the leper and said: “I do will it, Be thou made clean.” And instantly the leprosy fell from him, and in a transport of joy and gratitude he rose to his feet, a new man.

And lepers too, find their way to the feet of the “other Christ”- outcasts from the kingdom of heaven, who have lost their baptismal innocence and contracted the truly more terrifying leprosy of mortal sin. The poor soul comes to unbare before the priest the hideous sores it has contracted; to pour out its story of shame and sorrow in the sacred tribunal of the sacrament of Penance, It is under sentence of death, death eternal, for mortal sin completely severs all union with Christ, the source of life. But, again like His Master, the “other Christ,” looks with love on this poor outcast; he touches its sores, and lo, they fall to the ground. He reverses the sentence of eternal damnation: “I absolve thee from thy sins. Go and now sin no more. Be of good heart, son, thy sins are forgiven thee. I will it. Be thou made clean.” Is it any wonder that strong men have wept sweet tears in the Confessional? Is it to be surprised at that they have written exultantly of the joy and the peace surpassing all understanding, which inundated their souls when they arose from their knees after a good Confession? This “other Christ” has spoken with the authority of Jesus Christ, and at his word the gates of heaven, just now barred against the sinner, slowly swing back and open wide, and the beauty and the light and the warmth of God’s grace stream once more down into the soul. It is an intoxicating happiness, reflecting itself in the face of him who, ten minutes ago knew himself to be a leper, but who now, on looking into his soul, finds it to be as pure and as sinless as it was on the day of his Baptism. Christ restored the life of the body to Lazarus and to the daughter of Jairus, and there was much astonishment. Much more marvellous is the resurrection of a soul from death to the life of grace, and that miracle the “other Christ” using the power Christ has deigned to give him, performs times without number, perhaps many thousand times in the course of a single year! Not until the end of the world will the story be told of the peace restored, of the sin prevented, of the victories gained over passion, through the ministrations of the “other Christ” in the Sacrament of Penance.

Finally, who is so welcome at the deathbed as the priest? The sisters of Lazarus sent a message one day to Christ: “Behold, he whom Thou lovest is sick.” The same message is borne to the “other Christ,” for none but he can “give the courage and the strength necessary for the poor soul trembling on the brink of eternity. Non-Catholics often gaze in wonder at the effects of Extreme Unction and Viaticum. And to those who are left behind the visit of the priest is also a source of comfort. Jesus consoled the brokenhearted widow of Naim. He made provision for His own loved Mother on the Hill of Calvary. He held out the promise of paradise to the repentant thief dying by His side. The “other Christ” too, has a like message of comfort for those who mourn the loss of a loved one. So saturated has his mind become with the thoughts which filled the mind of His divine Master that his words of consolation ring with a conviction and a sincerity that makes them like balm to those on whose shoulders the cross has been laid.

All that has been said to illu strate the power of the priest over Christ’s mystical body is well summed up by the great French writer, Lamartine: “There is a man in every parish, having no family, but belonging to a family that is worldwide; who is called in as a witness and adviser in all the important affairs of human life. No one comes into the world or goes out of it without his ministrations. He takes the child from its mother’s arms, and parts with him only at the grave. He blesses and consecrates the cradle, the bridal chamber, the bed of death, and the bier. He is one whom innocent children instinctively venerate and reverence, and to whom men of venerable age come to seek for wisdom, and call him father; at whose feet men fall down and lay bare the innermost thoughts of their souls, and weep their most sacred tears. He is one whose mission is to console the afflicted, and soften the pains of body and soul; to whose door come alike the rich and the poor. He belongs to no social class, because he belongs equally to all. He is one, in fine, who knows all, has a right to speak unreservedly, and whose speech, inspired from on high, falls on the minds and hearts of all with the authority of one who is divinely sent, and with the constraining power of one who has an unclouded faith.”

Seeing that Our Lord has conferred such great privileges on His priest, it is only natural to ask what He expects from His priest in return. Throughout this paper we have insisted that the priest is “another Christ,” All his ideals and aspirations and obligations are contained in those two words, Let him aim day and night at imitating Jesus Christ, His way of speaking and thinking and acting. His zeal, His charity, His utter self-forgetfulness. A picture flung on the screen may, at first, be out of focus, and we see only an ugly, confused daub. But little by little the operator adjusts his focus and, as we continue to look, little by little the details come out more perfectly, until finally, when the focus is perfect, all is clear before us. Now no comparison is faultless, but it may be said that the priest’s one obligation is, every day to become more and more like to Jesus Christ, “Let this mind be in you,” writes St. Paul, “which also was in Christ Jesus.” Every day should see an adjustment of the focus, so that men who have to deal with a priest come to regard him as being, in very truth, “another Christ.” In their turn they point to him and say: “Ecce Agnus Dei.” For them, that expression has become an epitome of the life of the faithful priest.

This process of “Christification” is largely brought about under the transforming influence of the grace of God. But co- operation with that grace is necessary, and the priest co-operates especially by becoming a mediator, even as His divine Model was a mediator, What does this imply?

A mediator is one who reconciles those who are at enmity, Two friends have a quarrel, and it is the office of the mediator to come between them and plead for mutual forgiveness. Now when Our Lord came into this world He found that sin had opened up a chasm between Our Father and ourselves. That chasm no one but He could bridge over, for the insult offered to the infinite dignity of God by sin demanded that atonement should be made by a Person infinite in dignity. So Our Lord’s task was twofold-to plead with men to leave the ways of sin and do penance, and to plead with His Father in heaven to forgive them in view of His own merits and their repentance.

When we turn over the pages of Christ’s life we see that that twofold work was always kept by Him steadily in mind. He went around doing good, healing all manner of diseases, raising the dead to life, feeding the hungry, giving sight to the blind, cleansing the lepers. Sinless Himself He ever showed Himself the Friend of sinners. Transparently sincere Himself, He lashed hypocrisy mercilessly. All this love and mercy and sincerity He exercised in fulfilment of the first part of His office as Mediator-to draw men to Himself. One day He stood, clothed in His long white flowing garment, in the laneway outside Capharnaum, and, stretching out His arms wide in a comprehensive gesture, He spoke for the first time that invitation that ever since has sent a thrill of hope and love and joy through men’s hearts, “Come to Me,” He exclaimed, “all you that labour and are heavily burdened, and I will refresh you. Take up My yoke upon you and learn of Me that I am meek and humble of heart, and you shall find rest to your souls.” There, clearly expressed, is the first part of His mission as Mediator-to make men and women understand His craving for their real good, for their lasting happiness, because He well knows that if once His love seizes on their hearts it will prove to be their passport to eternal life.

Secondly, this divine Mediator had to plead with His Father to forgive men their sins. To see how He does this we have to kneel at His bleeding feet on Calvary. Never again will those feet travel on their long errands of mercy, for men have nailed them to the cross, and from the wounds made by the ugly nails the Precious Blood is flowing freely. The hands of Christ, which were never used except to bless and to heal are also held in place by two nails. The Face of Christ, most beautiful among the sons of men, men have disfigured with blows, and now it is covered with blood and spittle. In mockery of His kingship they have crowned His head with thorns, And not satisfied with all this, even now in His dying hour they mock Him. “Vah! Thou that destroyest the temple of God and in three days dost rebuild it! Save Thyself! Come down from the Cross and we will believe in Thee! He saved others; Himself He cannot save!” But presently another voice is heard. The eyes of the dying Christ, weighted down as they are with blood and spittle, are forced open, and with infinite compassion in them, He looks on those strange children of men below. There is no anger, no indignation, only sorrow, only pity, an utterly selfless pity for their great hardness of heart. The dried lips are parted; for a moment the jeers stop for they see He is about to speak. And the voice of Christ, strong and clear even in His dying hour, sends out its echo over the Hill, “Father, forgive them; they know not what they do.” That amazing cry, dictated by the infinite love in the Heart of Christ, rends the heavens and rises up as far as the Great White Throne. It was, most of all, in that cry that Christ fulfilled the second part of His office of Mediator-to implore the Father to have mercy and to spare.

Now the “other Christ” must be a mediator also. His task too, is a twofold one-to draw men from the mire of sin and worldliness, and to plead with the Father to have mercy upon them. How is he to do this? He had two principal instruments to his hand-Prayer and Sacrifice.

In our own day a great priest has been canonised, St. John Vianney. Everybody knows of the prodigious number of pilgrims who swarmed from all parts of Europe to listen to the simple sermons that fell from the lips of this very simple country priest. Everybody knows of the marvellous conversions wrought in the Curé’s narrow “coffin,” his Confessional, where for sixteen hours out of the twenty-four he sat hearing Confessions, giving advice on problems the most varied and the most abstruse, “reproving, entreating, rebuking, in all patience and doctrine.” What is the secret of the Curé of Ars? Whence did he draw the light he needed, the infinite fund of patience, the power to attract souls thus to himself, and pass them on to God? Beyond question his wonderful influence for good was the outcome of a life of close union with God through prayer. He is a living example of the teaching of Our Lord concerning the Vine and the branches, His union with Christ gave a ring of sincerity to the Curé’s simple sermon. Because he was closely united with God, his words had a power to pierce in through the crust of sin and selfishness encasing the hearts of those who heard him. The walls of pride fell before him, and men struck their breasts in compunction. Human eloquence, natural talent, has indeed its place in the priest’s armoury against sin and Satan, but it is a secondary place. The work of drawing souls to God is a supernatural work, to be accomplished only by supernatural means. And foremost amongst these supernatural means is Prayer. Prayer is, therefore, in the forefront among the instruments to be used by the priest in drawing souls to God.

And to make atonement to God’s offended majesty and to draw down forgiveness on the sinner, there is no more potent means than sacrifice. It was in the great sacrifice of Calvary that the first Mediator pleaded, most efficaciously, for men’s forgiveness. The “other Christ,” too, must go up the mount of sacrifice, and, by his mortified life, plead, as his great prototype pleaded: “Father, forgive them.” Our Lord will make no compromise in the matter of the absolute renunciation necessary for His priest. “If any man will come after Me, let him deny himself, take up his cross daily and follow Me.” A hard saying, yes, but in the light of Calvary not so hard.

Even in this life a generous God bestows a wonderful reward on the priest who gives himself to prayer and to sacrifice. That reward consists in this, that He makes His priest His temple. St. Paul is constantly stressing the truth that we are God’s living temples, in which He deigns to take up His permanent abode. Now, the Jewish temple of old was used for a twofold purpose-for prayer and for sacrifice. Because it was a house of prayer, Our Lord’s anger was enkindled against the buyers and sellers, and He made a whip of cord and drove them out, complaining that they had made the house of His Father a den of traffic. The ancient temple was used also for sacrifice. Every morning and every evening the blood of the victim flowed in the temple, in acknowledgmentof God’s supreme dominion over life and death. Now the soul that is kept exclusively for these two same purposes becomes, in turn, God’s temple also. He willingly enters in that soul, as into His own proper abode, to set up His kingdom there. “When God,” writes St. Teresa, “finds our souls like empty vessels, at once He fills them with Himself.” No wonder such a priest has influence over souls, for it is not He who speaks and acts, but the spirit of God Who speaks and acts through him. No wonder such a priest is always happy, for, to quote once more the loved Curé of Ars, “in a heart united to God it is always springtime.”

And now, why have we chosen to write these pages, and to attempt, however inadequately, to unfold some of the beauties and privileges and powers of the priesthood? While writing, we have had in view one class of reader particularly. It is that class composed of our boys leaving school to go out and fight life’s battle. These are coming to a crossroads in their lives, and it is of tremendous importance that, at these crossroads, they should take the turn intended for them by Almighty God. After the birth of John the Baptist, the friends and neighbours gathered in to congratulate the parents. On the way home a question arose instinctively to their lips. “What a one, think you, shall this boy be?” As they recounted all the marvels that had preceded the boy’s birth-the vision of Zachary, his loss of speech, his cure and his canticle of gratitude-they could not but expect that this boy was chosenin the designs of God for a special mission. “What will he be, think you, seeing all the great things that God has done for him?” That same question must form itself on the lips of every young man as he reaches the crossroads of life. “How am I going to proceed? What shall I be? What shall I do with my life?”

It is quite possible that Christ is waiting for you at the crossroads, waiting there to offer you a vocation. Do not shrug your shoulders at the idea. You cannot, if you sit back and quietly realise the responsibility that the mere possibility lays upon you. It is well to know what the Church requires in a candidate to the priesthood. She asks for two qualities-a right intention and fitness. A right intention implies that the candidate desires to be a priest in order, for example, to escape serious temptation; to make his salvation more secure; to carry Christ’s message to distant lands; to be an instrument in Christ’s hands for the salvation of the souls of others. Any of these would fulfil the first condition. And the second is fitness-fitness of body, so that the candidate have sufficient strength for the work he proposes to do in the priesthood; fitness of mind, so that he is possessed of at least average brains; and lastly, and most important, moral fitness, which means that the applicant be free from serious habits of vice, and be of a character capable of being trained to the practice of a holy life. These are the essential qualities. It is not required that a boy feel a great longing to be a priest, nor that he experience an interior prompting from the Holy Spirit, urging him into the ranks of Christ’s priests. Such a longing or prompting may or may not be present. In either case, it is no criterion of a true vocation. It does indeed strengthen the case for the boy, and gives still greater reason to hope for his final perseverance, but, even if it be absent, or not felt very intensely, there is still much to be considered before deciding that there is no vocation. A boy has a responsibility, then, to draw near and consult Jesus Christ at the crossroads. God though He be, Our Lord can bestow no greater privilege on a boy. Such a choice! By such a Person! And for such a mission! By all means pray for a vocation. If you are in doubt, ask advice; nobody is going to try the foolish task of forcing a vocation on you if it is clear that you have not one. All we urge here is that the question of vocation should be faced seriously, not ignored or dismissed lightly as being something utterly impossible. So muchdepends on a boy’s choice!

Look up and down the ranks of the priesthood for a moment. One night, a little French boy, Claude Liseur, tossed about restlessly in bed. He could net sleep for the fire of the love of Jesus Christ was burning in his heart. So the little lad, only nine and a half, crawled out of bed and, kneeling there in the darkness, he promised God that he would give his whole life to His service. Eighty years passed by, and Claude Liseur is lying on his deathbed, an old, worn-out Jesuit missionary priest in distant India. Just before the end, he looks up with a happy smile into the face of the priest beside him. “Father,” he says, “I”m ninety, and, thanks to God’s infinite mercy, I have never committed a mortal sin.” Was Claude Liseur sorry, I wonder, that he had taken the correct turn at the crossroads of life?

A young Spaniard was studying at the Paris University. He was a brilliant student, and had ambition. He would be a luminary in that home of learning, and have the whole world singing his praises. At the same University there was another Spaniard, who, once himself worldly-minded, had now been won completely to the cause of Christ. He saw that his compatriot would sweep the world for Christ if once he could be made to see life as Christ sees it. So Ignatius, the convert, proceeded to waylay Francis, the young dreamer of dreams, “Francis,” he would say, “what doth it profit a man if he gain the whole world and suffer the loss of his own soul? Or what shall a man give in exchange for his soul?” At first Francis only laughed at him, but Ignatius would not give up. And little by little the light came to Francis, He had been pursuing shadows. He would give himself to God. And he did, and not in half-measures. He became a priest and went out to India, and toiled night and day for the salvation of souls. What thousands he won only the great reckoning angel knows. Certain it is that thousands, literally, found their way to the feet of Christ who never would have known Him but that Francis Xavier went to the Indies. Does Francis Xavier, I wonder, regret the turn he took at the crossroads?

Aloysius Gonzaga was a marquis. If you have seen his picture you probably think of him as a stern, unbending ascetic, and you are right. He was stern, ruthlessly so, on himself. But then he had to be. He knew himself much better than most of us know ourselves, and he realised that if he did not hold himself mercilessly in check, be might very easily fall into frightful vices-the seeds of which, indeed, he had inherited from his none too righteous forbears. He made up his mind to fling aside worldliness and renounce his marquisate. Sensible people shook their wise heads and told him plainly he had lost his mind. The fact was that he had found it. He realised the value of his soul and the dangerous state surrounding it. So he carried his purpose through, and now he is a canonised saint. And our late Holy Father appointed him as patron of the very people whom this paper has most in view-boys at the crossroads of life. A saint, when he might so easily have slipped and made shipwreck of his life! Does Aloysius repent his choice at the crossroads? Is he sorry, now, that he held those seething passions in a grip of steel, and consecrated his purity, inviolably, to Jesus and Mary? How utterly unworthy of attention and consideration is everything when one comes thus close up against reality!

A young man had been following Our Lord. The personality of this Jesus of Nazareth, His unselfishness, His doctrine of the soul and salvation, His unwearying patience in instilling this lesson on every possible occasion-all this had awakened a desire in the young man’s heart to break with the toys of worldliness and do something worthwhile with his life, So he came one day, and looking wistfully into the eyes of Christ, he put the eager question: “Good Master, what must I do to gain eternal life? The answer was clear: “If,” said Our Lord, “you would enter into life, keep the Commandments.” “But I have kept them all from my youth. What is still wanting of me?” There was a hunger to do something more. Christ’s cause was so noble that this young man wanted to distinguish himself in His service. What were the conditions? “If you will to be perfect, go, sell what you have and give to the poor, and come and follow Me. And you shall have treasure in heaven.” But the rich young man went away sad for he had great possessions. The world was too sweet. The hard sayings of Christ were too hard. He would try to satisfy himself with half measures. He came up to the crossroads and received his directions. Is he glad now, one wonders, at the decision he made?

How many souls depend, in the inscrutable designs of God’s Providence, for their eternal salvation, on the choice you are going to make at the crossroads?

“To live in the midst of the world without wishing its pleasures; to be a member of each family, yet belonging to none; to share all sufferings; to penetrate all secrets; to heal all wounds; to go from man to God and offer Him their prayers; to return from God to man to bring pardon and hope; to have a heart of gold for charity: and a heart of bronze for chastity; to teach and to pardon: to console and bless always. My God, what a life! And it is yours, Opriest of Jesus Christ!” Lacordaire.

De Licentia Sup. Ordin. die 22 Martii, 1938,

Dublinii.

J.J. COYNE, SJ

Vice praep Prov. Hib. Soc. Jesus

Imprimatur:

@ T. KEOGH,

Bishop of Kildare and Leighlin. I-IV-38.

********

A Priest And Protestants

BY REV. ROBERT NASH. S. J

INDEX

The Legion of Mary organizes regular series of lectures for non-Catholics. The pages which follow form the substance of one such lecture given by the author to a group of about sixty Protestants in Dublin. It led to several pleasant, and, we may hope, not unprofitable contacts and discussions, and the suggestion has been made that the points raised might, with advantage, be collected and circulated in pamphlet or leaflet. The original lecture was entitled : “Protestants and Catholics,-What We Think Of Each Other.” It has seemed best to reproduce it in the manner in which it was spoken, elaborating perhaps, here and there, some of the ideas which had then of necessity to be curtailed through lack of time.

Two important events, relevant to the subject-matter of this booklet, have taken place during the months which have elapsed since the lecture was delivered. One of these is the Lambeth Conference of Anglican Bishops ; the other is the proclamation by Pope John XXIII of his intention to summon a General Council of the Catholic Church. The deliberations of the Lambeth Conference give many heartening indications of the Anglicans’ sincere desire to explore once more the possibility of Reunion, and their willingness to discuss or even cede certain points. The Holy Father’s decision to call a Council with the object of trying to heal the breach so long existing between the Western and Eastern Churches is evidence of the love and eagerness with which all “Roman” Catholics pray for that result.

ON TAPE

It would be a very real consolation and joy if these few pages were to contribute even a little to bringing about more mutual understanding and sympathy between Our Separated Brethren and Ourselves. It is disastrous and highly disedifying that discussions like these succeed only too often in producing more heat than light. Hence let us begin by repeating what was said in the spoken version, that it will be our principal care to be mindful throughout of the charity of Chris which embraces all souls of good will.

We would now ask you to imagine that you have, here on the table in front of you, a tape-recording machine. Please fit in the end of the tape carefully into the empty spool. Turn on the electric switch. That’s right. Set the starter free. The two spools begin to circle around and presently the sound of a human voice fills the room. This is what you hear :

May I begin with a word of very sincere welcome, and may I say that it is a pleasure and a privilege to come and speak to you ? You will have seen on your invitation cards that the title of our proposed talk is : Protestants and Catholics,-What We Think Of Each Other. It is a comprehensive subject, and we cannot, obviously, expect to treat it exhaustively. We shall have to confine ourselves to just a few of the ideas which Protestants and Catholics incline to express whenever their conversation turns on those who differ from them in religion.

When I sat down to prepare this talk, there came back to my mind a remark once made by a Protestant girl. She had been asking me questions about Catholicism. One day, as I was trying to explain some point of doctrine, she interrupted. “ Father, you must allow me say something. Thinking over what you have been telling me, I cannot but express my admiration. This much at least is clear to me,-yours is a beautiful faith. “

A beautiful faith. It seems to me that we might take that phrase as embodying one of those things which some Protestants say about Catholicism. Never mind for the moment whether the Catholic Religion is true or not. Prescind in your mind from every other aspect of it except just this one,-its beauty. Perhaps you remember Newman’s tribute, made to the Catholic Church while he was still outside its pale.

“Would that thy creed were sound, thou Church of Rome !

For thou hast power to soothe the heart, thou Church of Rome !

With thy unwearied watch and varied round

Of service in the Saviour’s holy Home. “

REAL PRESENCE

When I return tonight to Rathfarnham Castle where I live, I shall go into our chapel there and kneel to pray for a while. I am pretty sure to find other Jesuits there in prayer also. Now here is a group of men,-a mere handful of the more than four hundred million Catholics scattered across the world,-and they are absolutely convinced of this, that Jesus Christ is really, truly, and substantially present on that altar before them, under the Eucharistic Species. They are kneeling at His feet as truly as Mary His Blessed Mother knelt before Him in the crib at Bethlehem ; as truly as if they were on their knees by His side when He passed the whole night in prayer on the mountain ; as truly as if they were close to Him when He preached from Peter’s boat to the crowds drawn up along the shore ; as truly as if they were on Calvary itself, on the ground soaked in His Precious Blood.

We are not asking you necessarily to believe this. All we want to stress is that if the Catholic doctrine of the Real Presence were true, it would be extraordinarily comforting and beautiful.

It would infuse new life and meaning into the apostle’s phrase : “Jesus Christ, yesterday, today and the same forever. “ A beautiful faith! A Protestant once said to a Catholic friend of mine : “If I believed what you Catholics believe about the Blessed Eucharist, I think I’d never be off my knees.” Father Peter Gallway, a Jesuit who lived many years in London, was accustomed, even in his very old age, to remain long hours every night before the Blessed Sacrament. You would find him at midnight, and far into the small hours of morning kneeling or seated there in the darkness, seemingly, like his divine Master, spending the whole night in the prayer of God. A younger priest once made bold to ask him how he occupied himself during all that time. What did he do or say or think? The old man smiled. “ I suppose, Father, I may as well tell you very simply. I stay there quite quietly, and occasionally I say just one single word,-’God,’ or, sometimes, ‘Jesus.’” That was all. The overwhelming truth of that Presence filled and satisfied his hungering soul. The beauty of it. The solid consolation of it. The unfailing source of joy it is to the soul that realises. “ Hold Him and keep Him for thy friend, “ counsels a Kempis, “ who, when all others forsake thee, will not abandon thee nor suffer thee to perish in the end.” Is it possible to doubt that the Catholic’s conviction that in the Blessed Eucharist he can most literally obey this injunction, must inundate his soul with joy ?

The beauty of it ! But what most of all consolidates his happiness is the unfaltering assurance that is true.

It is no wonder that many Protestants are hankering for the doctrine which was filched from them by unscrupulous men in the sixteenth century. One sees signs of this nostalgia, for instance, in several Anglican Churches which set up an altar, and keep a lamp always burning, and genuflect, and celebrate “Mass.” All this is evidence of their longing, their hunger, for the Real Presence. They are painfully conscious of what the late Mgr. Knox described as “The Real Absence” in their Church. Their efforts to fill it are beyond all praise. Catholics are certain that these efforts can be successful when they seek the Real Presence where alone It can be found.

“Would that thy creed were sound, thou Church of Rome!

For thou hast power to soothe the heart, thou Church of Rome !

With thy unwearied watch and varied round

Of service in thy Saviour’s holy Home. “

MASS

Tomorrow morning, as a Catholic priest, I hope to stand at the altar and offer to God the holy sacrifice of the Mass. Once more, please focus your attention on a single viewpoint,-the extraordinary beauty of what we Catholics believe the Mass to be. We are certain that Mass and Calvary are identical. I am well aware that there are Protestants who state, as an objection to the Mass, that the Saviour’s sacrifice is all-sufficient and that it is derogatory to that sacrifice to set up another, as though to supply for what Calvary lacks.

Such Protestants would probably be surprised to know that in speaking thus they are entirely in line with Catholic teaching. Catholics, too, maintain that Calvary is all-sufficing and that to try to set up another sacrifice would be a most gross insult to the Redeemer. But where they differ radically is in this,-that they do not for a moment admit that the Mass is a new sacrifice. It is the re-offering to God of the same sacrifice which was offered on Calvary, the only difference being in the manner in which that offering is made.

Don’t you consider that such a belief is very beautiful ? That, in the Mass, we can offer in atonement for our own sins and the sins of the world, the infinite merits of Jesus Christ ? That we stand thee in spirit by the Cross, like Mary on Calvary, and unite our poor petitions with that strong cry for mercy which sent its echo out over the hill on Good Friday ?

Abraham pleaded for the two guilty cities, Sodom and Gormorrha. Would God not spare the cities if in them there were to be found even fifty, or forty, or twenty, or ten just men ? If God listened to the pleading of His faithful servant Abraham, how much more readily will He bend down His ear when the prayer for mercy arises from the Heart of His own divine Son, Who continues to offer Himself in the Mass ! The prophet Malachias foretold that God would reject, finally, the sacrifices of the Jews, and that in every place, from the rising of the sun till the going down of the same, a new “clean oblation” would be offered to God. The Mass, offered unceasingly day and night in the Catholic Church, is the fulfilment of this prophecy. If it is not, then where are the prophet’s words verified ?

CONFESSION

There are Protestants who do not like the Catholic practice of going to Confession. A man once said to me that he would consider it degrading to his manhood to kneel before a fellowman, tell him his sins, and ask him for forgiveness. Certainly he would kneel before God and do all this, but never before another mere man like himself. We are told too, that this practice places a premium on sin. Catholics can commit ir much sin as they wish, then run to the priest and be pardoned and then start off merrily sinning all over again!

We would willingly deal with these objections, were it not that, as you know, we are restricting this part of our talk to considering the beauty, only, of the Catholic Faith.

Of this you may be certain,-that Catholics have stood up after a good Confession and stumbled back into the Church intoxicated with a joy and peace in their souls so overpowering as to seem scarcely endurable. Is there not something amazingly beautiful in a doctrine which assures me that, no matter how vile my sins have been, no matter how often repeated, I have now been fully restored to the love of my Saviour ? Who can exhaust the beauty of the sentence spoken by the merciful Christ : “Be of good heart, son, thy sins are forgiven thee?” Who can sound the depths of joy that flooded the soul of the erstwhile sinful Magdalene, when she listened and heard Him say that many sins were forgiven her, because she had loved much ?

The Catholic catches the clear echo of wonderful words like these, as often as he comes, with a contrite and humble heart, to receive God’s pardon in the Sacrament of Penance. And, once again, one detects signs of a craving in many upright Protestants that this treasure be restored to them. An army chaplain was visited by a non-Catholic soldier. “Father, I want to go to Confession. I know I cannot receive absolution. But my conscience is tortured by the thought of my sins and I want to unburthen myself, to tell you everything, with the assurance that whatever I say will never be divulged to another.”

For that, too, is a wonderfully consoling fact about going to Confession. Whatever the priest hears, with reference to his penitent’s conscience, in this Sacrament, is buried forever in his heart. He may never, under any conceivable circumstances, by word or sign, give even the smallest indication of this knowledge, not even to the person himself who has confessed. This law is established for the consolation and satisfaction of the penitent ; he knows that even after he is dead the priest is still bound by this seal. Priests have faced torture and death rather than violate this sacred secrecy. St John Nepomocene, for example, was brutally murdered because he would not speak in such a case. Even Martin Luther, renegade priest and monk, when asked about what he had heard in the Confessional, answered : “Anything else I shall willingly tell you ; but not that.”

There is much more one would wish to say about the beauty of the Catholic Faith. It would be a joy to talk about the Sacraments, what they are and what are their effects ; about the doctrine of the Mystical Body which shows how divine grace links us together with each other and with Christ, He being the Head and we the members ; about the historical argument for Catholicism,-namely, how she lives and grows despite the most violent hatred and persecutions all down the centuries. We have had time to call your attention to two or three of the truths we believe,-the Real Presence, the Mass, and Confession. We have only glanced at even these, holding them for you to view for a moment as one might hold a picture-card and indicate its salient points with a finger.

We feel confident that no fair-minded person, Catholic or not, can fail to appreciate their beauty. If only they were true! The Catholic believes they are. He has sound intellectual reasons for his belief. To believe merely because they are beautiful, merely because they appeal to him, would be the height of folly. But nobody is asked to believe until he has carefully considered the reasons why Catholics are certain that the faith they profess is not only beautiful but true.

DISLIKE

What else do Protestants say and think about Catholics? It is with great reluctance that we set down the next part of our reply. It is painful to have to admit it, but the proofs are beyond question that there are Protestants who cannot endure us Catholics, who frown on Catholicism, who even permit their disapproval to develop into violent and unreasoning hatred.

They are capable of descending to the depths of circulating lies about us, -please God, not deliberate lies in many cases,- but lies just the same which are calculated to make people believe that no name is evil enough for us and for the faith we hold and teach and love. I feel confident that no such Protestant is in this audience. I am sure that you all deplore such injustice as heartily as I do. I hope you will bear with me.

I dwell for a short while on this exceedingly distasteful topic.

You may recall that some months ago a Presbyterian minister and I got a little into each other’s hair. Both he and I, I am certain, are glad to be able to look back at this stage on the correspondence that passed between us, and recognise that it led to no breach of charity and friendliness on either side. While we were writing to each other, I received through the mail, mostly from anonymous senders, many tracts and pieces of literature explaining to me the villainy of Rome, her superstitions, her hypocrisy, her egregious errors. No one could even glance through these documents and remain in doubt about the motives underlying them. You turned away from these diatribes saddened and crushed to think that religion could masquerade in the garb of such misguided zeal.

This very day a friend of mine, a priest, told me about a letter he received recently from a non-Catholic. The writer explained that he had been attending a non-Catholic mission and he was growing sick and tired of it. There was nothing positive in any of the addresses given by the clergyman, only violent attack after another on the “Church of Rome.”

Why, he wanted to know, don’t some of you Roman Catholic priests come along to such missions and give us the chance of hearing the other side. Do you wonder any more why I say and think that there are Protestants who anathematize all Catholics and Catholicism ? A young man, a Catholic, wrote some time ago to his father and mother. He holds a good job in a large factory, and the overwhelming majority of his fellow-workers are non-Catholics. “We very often have discussions about religious questions, and you would be surprised how keen their interest is. Some of them don’t like the Jews, or the Methodists, or the Church of Ireland,-but to a man all of them are absolutely one in condemning the R. C’s.”

In view of this evidence, and there is much more, it seems clear that we are compelled to admit that there are Protestants who abominate Catholics and all their works and all the pomps.

REACTIONS

What is the Catholic’s reaction? When he reads some of the literature which I have described he experiences a sense almost of nausea. It is pathetic to discover not a single intellectual argument to support the writer’s contentions, but only wild statements obviously dictated by unreasoning passion. Attacks like these will never convince any impartial reader. They are cheap. They serve only to degrade the people who launch them. No one whose opinion is worth anything thinks any the worse of Catholicism or any the better of Protestantism for having had them flung upon him.

If I were a decent-living Protestant, like many whom I know, I think I would be ashamed of my life to be even remotely associated with such mud-throwing. If I were a pagan who had read the New Testament my reaction would be : “Well, I don’t know much about these Roman Catholics, but to this at least is obvious,-the attacks under consideration whether true or false, are quite definitely not Christianity. Christ preached love of even one’s enemies, and every page of these documents is a denial of love. “

A group of students clubbed together to study literature. They were not Christians, but as they went on with their work, they found themselves developing an interest in Christianity. Their interest led them to three conclusions: (i) Christianity, as taught by Christ, must still be in the world somewhere. (ii) That form of Christianity was true which was most fiercely persecuted. (iii) The Catholic Church has been persecuted relentlessly from the beginning; at the moment it was being attacked more brutally and systematically than ever. Ergo . . . Catholics are not unduly alarmed by persecution and dislike.

What would really shock and frighten them would be the absence of that opposition foretold in so many places by Our Lord as the badge of His true followers. “You shall lament and mourn and the world will rejoice. . . . in the world you shall have distress. . . . wonder not if the world hate you. If you had been of the world, the world would love its own. But, because you are not of the world, but I have chosen you out of the world, therefore does the world hate you.”

ASKING WHY

It is intriguing and useful to try to investigate the reasons for this phenomenon. Why are there Protestants who dislike

Catholics and Catholicism, who despise both, who sometimes even maintain an attitude of bitterness and cannot endure that a word be said on the Catholic side? Why? Three answers, among many others, occur to our minds and we propose to set them forth here for your consideration.

In the first place, then, it is certain that many Protestants dislike us and our religion because of ignorance and prejudice. They have never read an exposition of that faith by a Catholic ; they have never in their lives spoken a word to a Catholic priest; if ever they broached the subject of religion to a Catholic layman, as likely as not they were left unsatisfied. (Admittedly and with sorrow it must be said that far, far, too many Catholics are dumb when questioned about their religion. Few of them will introduce the subject on their own initiative).

Not only have the Protestants we have in mind never heard the Catholic Faith explained and defended, often whatever instruction they received was twisted and distorted and grievously maligned. Who can blame them if, as youths and adults, they instinctively condemn and look with hatred on the Catholic Church? Any priest experienced in instructing intending converts to the Church will tell you of the amazement of some neophyte on hearing for the first time the plain statement of what we actually believe. “But, Father, I was always taught that you say all Protestants go to hell! Do you mean to tell me, Father, that Catholics do not adore Mary and think she has more power than God? I have often heard that the Catholic Church is afraid of science. Now for the first time I discover that a long line of most eminent scientists were Catholics, and that, in this very day, the most brilliant scholars are dedicated heart and soul to the defence and service of your Church.”

Remarks like these could be multiplied. They endorse our contention that much Protestant dislike is due to ignorance and prejudice. What they hate is, not genuine Catholicism but its grotesque counterfeit. Here are a few actual examples : Perhaps you have heard of Irie Newcombe. She was a remarkable woman. For a great part of her life she worked as a Protestant foreign missionary. At the age of seventy she became a Catholic and at seventy-four she entered the Carmelites, one of the most austere Orders in the Church. Irie describes her first encounter with a Catholic priest. She was a young girl, walking with her sister through a street in Florence, a priest stopped to ask the time. Irie was about to consult her watch, when the older girl seized her in panic by the arm. “Irie, Irie, don’t talk to him! Come away at once! Don’t you see what he is,- a Papish priest!”

“You need not go back seventy years for an instance,” was the comment of a priest to whom I told this story. He went on to say that quite recently he was walking along a country road, searching for an address. A little boy of about five moved into view and the priest chatted with him in a friendly manner for a minute or two. As he was on the point of asking the youngster about the address, the little follow suddenly exclaimed: “You are not a Roman Catholic priest, are you?” “Yes, to be sure I am. Why?” But the boy was already fleeing out of sight with the speed of an arrow

Heaven knows what he had been told about Roman Catholic priests. We can only surmise. Whatever it was, it was going to prove to be the seed of distrust and possible hatred and prejudice. In all probability it would raise an obstacle preventing a dispassionate examination of the teaching of the Catholic Church.

The Mother General of a certain Religious Order was making a visitation of the Houses in America. She had come from Rome. During the visitation there was question of building a new foundation, and Mother General went to inspect the site. It was the possession of a non-Catholic lady. After the nuns had left this lady confided to a friend : “My dear, don’t you think I had better let them have the site ? You see, the Pope sent his wife all the way from Rome to discuss the project, and it would be rather dreadful to disappoint them !”

Ignorance and prejudice,-it is fair to state that from this poisoned root springs much of the evil we are considering.

ARGUMENT

In saying all this we do not for a moment want to discredit argument. A Catholic’s great consolation is that the more he investigates the intellectual reasons for his faith the more convinced he becomes of its divine truth. But mere argument is not enough. I used to think at one time that the proofs of the Catholic Faith are so cogent that any fair-minded man to whom they were presented must forthwith become a Catholic. I do not think so any longer.

Argument will be largely unavailing if the approach to the study of the faith be not made in a spirit of docility and humility. The Kingdom of heaven can be received only by those who have the simplicity of little children. This simplicity is not credulity; you find a glorious example of it in an intellectual giant Chesterton. As long as a person is out merely to win an argument, merely to pick flaws and defend his position with the assurance of arrogance, he will never have that frame of mind which will prove to be receptive of God’s gift. For that is what the Catholic faith is,-a free gift of God. It is a divine gift, and no amount of mere reasoning will make a man accept it. God’s holy Spirit must enlighten his mind and move his will. Ordinarily God will do this when once a man approaches the Church in an attitude of reverence and humility.

A non-Catholic boy, aged twenty, visited a priest. They talked about the Catholic faith. When he was leaving, the priest said: “ Tom, what you should now do is to pray fervently and ask God, that if the Catholic Church is the only true Church of Christ, you may be able to recognise it as such.” “Oh no, Father, that I would never do. You see, if I prayed like that I would be conditioning myself and might then not be able to form my own judgment.!” It is not altogether clear what he meant. One remembers, at any rate, that Our Lord told us, when we pray, to go into the silence and hiddenness of our roomand’ there pray in secret to the Father. That, I think we must agree, looks very like “conditioning ourselves” too.

Faith is a divine gift. It does not contradict reason but it transcends reason. We can believe the claims of the Catholic Church on the same authority and with the same assurance as if we heard them from the very lips of Christ Himself. Catholics believe the teachings of the Church, not only because they seem just and reasonable, St. Ignatius writes that we should be prepared to believe that what seems to us to be black is, actually white, if the Church so decided. The Church will never ask us to believe that black is white. What St. Ignatius means is that we at once admit that the mistake was on our side in thinking the object was black, and, even though it may still seem to be black, we are convinced it is white on the authority of the Church.

But to submit one’s intellect thus is impossible without the help of divine grace. That is why we have to pray for the gift of faith to “condition ourselves” if you like, to approach the study of Catholicism in a spirit of docility, prepared to examine everything we hear in a dispassionate frame of mind, and ready to accept what we clearly recognise to be true. This was the disposition of the boy Samuel when he prayed : “Speak, Lord, for Thy servant heareth. “

For twenty years, Mr. Sidermann, a Jew, attended the lectures given each Sunday in Hyde Park, London, by the late Father Vincent McNabb. Father McNabb was an able exponent of the Catholic Faith. He and Mr. Sidermann were good friends. When he died his Jewish follower wrote a memoir in which he expressed his love and admiration for the Dominican. Each Sunday they met at Hyde Park and crossed swords. And yet, after twenty years, Sidermann remained a Jew. He is a Jew today, and a Jew he seems likely to be till the end.

Argument, however ably propounded, is not enough. It is necessary. It is an enormous help. But it can never be a substitute for the gift coming down from the Father of Lights confirming reason and enabling the recipient to believe on God’s own divine authority, what he is taught in the Catholic Church.

We are commanded to “hear the Church.” We are warned that whoever will not hear the Church must be classed with the heathen and the publican. To His Church Our Lord has said : “He that heareth you, heareth Me ; he that despiseth you, despiseth Me ; he that despiseth Me, despiseth Him that sent Me.” From this it must be clear that the Church is authorised to teach in His Name and to demand the same obedience as is due to Himself.

BAD CATHOLICS

We have suggested ignorance and prejudice as partial explanations of the dislike and enmity which Catholics often encounter.

What Protestants often detest is not Catholicism at all, but the false and distorted version of it, -the only one they know. Protestants say and think hard things about us, secondly, because they have had experience of meeting bad Catholics.

They point to Catholics who are dishonest in business. They speak with scorn of Catholics who begin Sunday with Mass, and spend the remaining hours of the Lord’s Day drinking till they are stupified. They complain of irreverent conduct in

Catholic Churches. They are shocked to hear Catholics treat the Holy Name of Jesus with entire disregard for Its sacredness. In a word, they have discovered that Catholics, by and large, are a contemptible lot, and they conclude, with a note of sarcasm perhaps : “There is the Catholic Church for you !”

Now the first fact to emphasise is that nobody deplores the inconsistencies here listed more bitterly than the earnest

Catholic. Nobody will admit more readily than a Catholic priest that Catholics of evil lives are a blot and a stain on the

Church’s escutcheon. But do such lives form any reasonable argument against the Catholic Religion itself? If Catholics are bad, if they live immoral lives, they do so, not because they are Catholics but in spite of the fact that they are Catholics. The Catholic Faith does not stand or fall by the lives of those who profess it. One has always, in fairness, to distinguish carefully between Catholics and Catholicism.

On the other hand, you have surely met Catholics whom you admired, and, I hope, loved. Perhaps you have read the lives of some of the Catholic saints, and no one can do this with an open mind, and fail to be filled with amazement and gratitude to

God for having raised up such models to inspire us. They were dedicated men and women, they despised money and a good time, for they had close to the heart, interests immeasurably more worthwhile. The charity of Christ goaded them, as it goaded

St. Paul, and, utterly forgetful of self, of their own needs or convenience, they devoted themselves, all they were and all they had, to one single task,-the spreading of the knowledge and love of Jesus Christ.

What do we deduce from their lives?

Here you have people who are simply reducing to practice what they learn from the Catholic Church. Their lives are

Catholicism in action. It is true we cannot argue from the bad Catholic to the detriment of Catholicism. But we can most fairly and reasonably conclude from lives shaped by the Catholic Faith that Catholicism is worthy of all praise. See how it works! When Catholics live their faith, this is what happens.

INTOLERANT?

Is the Catholic Church arrogant and intolerant? There are non-Catholics who think so, and who advance this arrogance and intolerance as the third of the reasons why they dislike her heartily. Why must she always be out of line? There is evidence on many sides of a strong desire for Reunion between all the Christian Churches. What is wrong with getting together and deciding on a few essential tenets to which all of us subscribe, and, outside of these, taking advantage of the liberty of the children of God to pick and choose?

If anyone doubts of the eagerness of the Catholic Church for Reunion, let him seriously meditate on the following words. They were written by the saintly Pope Pius XII in his Encyclical Letter on the Mystical Body. They are only one example from many which indicate the Catholic mentality towards those outside the fold of the Catholic Church. “From a heart overflowing with love,” he writes, “We ask each and every one of them to be quick and ready to follow the interior movements of grace, and to look to withdrawing from that state in which they cannot be sure of their salvation. For even though unsuspectingly they are united to the Mystical Body of the Redeemer in desire and resolution, they still remain deprived of so many precious gifts and helps from heaven which one can enjoy only in the Catholic Church. May they then enter into Catholic Unity, and united with us in the organic oneness of the Mystical Body of Jesus Christ, may they hasten to the one Head in the society of glorious love. With persevering prayer to the Spirit of Love and Truth We wait for them with open arms to return, not to a stranger’s house, but to their own, the house of their Father. “

Perhaps you will say this is all very well, but why will the Catholic Church not meet us half-way? She expects us to capitulate entirely while she herself refuses all compromise. In point of fact, given the position she vindicates for herself, any other attitude is quite out of the question. She maintains that to her, and to her alone, the “deposit of faith” was entrusted by Jesus Christ. This “deposit” is the full content of the body of truth taught by the Founder of the Church. He commissioned His Church to guard it ; He commands her to deliver it to men exactly as she has received it, adding nothing, subtracting nothing. He has left to her very definite teaching on all the dogmas she holds, on the Mass, the Real Presence, Confession, the Trinity, the Incarnation. She would not, and could not, dare tamper with these. They are divinelyguaranteed truths, admitting, therefore, of no sort of doubt or compromise.

She can, indeed, and she does, explore according to the needs of the times, into the content of the deposit. She sometimes, when she sees it to be opportune, solemnly defines a truth as an article of faith which was not such heretofore. An example of this in our own day is the Definition of Our Lady’s Assumption. Before that Definition Catholics were free to accept or not to accept the Assumption; now they are no longer free. Why ?

Because the Church, after much prayer and most extensive and conscientious examination, declares that this Dogma was implicitly contained in the original deposit left to her by Jesus Christ. There is, therefore, nothing added ; there is only a clarification, a development of doctrine.

MORALS TOO

The Church is equally definite and uncompromising in the fields of morals, and for the same reason. She claims that to her, and to her alone, Christ gave instructions concerning questions like divorce, marriage, and, implied in these, concerning birth-control. Hence, on all such matters she takes a firm stand. Alone of all Churches calling themselves Christian, she steadfastly refuses to give a divorce. She has never given a divorce, and never will. We state this with complete confidence. Cases may come to your mind where men declare she has granted a divorce. We have no fear in challenging such assertions, for we are certain that any such case, on being examined, will prove to be no divorce. Any other course is utterly impossible and a betrayal of Christianity. Our Lord has declared that it is God Who unites man and wife in holy matrimony. Those who accuse the Catholic Church of arrogance might consider what appalling arrogance it is for any so-called Christian Body to presume to dissolve what God has joined together, in face of the absolute divine prohibition.

Thus, in matters of faith and morals, the Catholic Church finds herself in the position of being incapable of compromises. Our Lord did not leave her free to pick and choose. He gave her a very definite body of doctrine, and His mandate is to teach that, and nothing else, “all things whatsoever I have commanded you.” He taught, not vague generalities, but a very clear-cut code of laws to be obeyed and a body of truths to be believed on His word. He did not tell His followers He was proposing His views for what they were worth; rather does He insist that they must be accepted under pain of eternal loss!” He that believeth and is baptised shall be saved ; he that believeth not, shall be condemned. “

If the Catholic Church is founded by Him, if she is divinely commissioned to preach His gospel to every creature, she can no more compromise than He. Any other course is unthinkable. It is hard to see how anyone can fairly tax her with arrogance or intolerance. Truth is objective. She knows that to tone it down in order to suit the demands of “modern morality” would be no service to religion or to those outside her fold. To these last it would be a cruel kindness and to religion a mortal wound.

WHAT CATHOLICS THINK

It is time now to direct our attention to the second section of this lecture and to ask what do Catholics think and say about their non-Catholic brethren. The citation from Pope Pius XII, given above, supplies an insight into our first answer. Knowing and loving the Catholic Faith as we Catholics do, we cannot but feel a most poignant sorrow as often as we reflect on those who are deprived of its immense blessings. The sense of certainty we possess, the happiness and tranquility of mind, the identity of Catholic teaching in every part of the world, the complete assurance we have that the Church is a loving Mother and that to her we can yield ourselves and all we have,-who can fail to see that we must ardently desire to share such treasures with the whole world?

All this we have received through no merits of our own. On every side of us we see men and women of noble, upright lives, who, apparently through no fault of theirs, are deprived of “so many precious gifts and helps from heaven which one can enjoy only in the Catholic Church.” Many non-Catholics lead incomparably better Christian lives than many Catholics. This they succeed in doing in spite of many serious handicaps. What heights of holiness might they not attain to if once they found their way into the one Church founded by Jesus Christ?

“Would that thy creed were sound, thou Church of Rome !

For thou hast power to soothe the heart, thou Church of Rome !

With thy unwearied watch and varied round

Of service in thy Saviour’s holy Home. “

Along lines like these the Catholic begins to muse when he asks himself what he thinks about Protestants. His first answer is that he feels a deep sorrow. But nothing could be farther removed from the truth than that this sorrow puffs him up with sentiments of pride and superiority. Rather does he realise his greater responsibility for what has so mercifully been granted to him. Indeed he may even be mildly terrified as often as he remembers that “to whom much is given, of him much will be required. “

CHRIST’S CHURCH?

What do Catholics think of Protestants? Once again we find ourselves face to face with an answer which is difficult and painful to state. Quite frankly, we Catholics find ourselves altogether incapable of understanding how Protestants can sincerely believe themselves to be members of Christ’s Church. How anyone can, on the one hand, study the Church founded by Christ and depicted in the Gospel, and then look from that picture to Protestantism and declare that the two are not only similar but identical, fairly baffles us to understand. To begin with, Protestants regularly refer to the Christian Churches. But Christ surely founded only one Church. Logic itself would therefore seem to show that only one of the claimants can be right ; all the others must, of necessity, be in error.

Which is the right one ? Catholics point to the Church described in the Gospel, and from that to their own, and to them it seems obvious that the two are identical. They do not for a moment call in question the sincerity of the adherents of other Churches, but what remains incomprehensible is the very fact that they can indeed be sincere.

A large notice was recently displayed outside a Protestant Church in Dublin. I stood and read it with amazement. Here it is, verbatim rom: “This Church is bound by no fixed creeds.” That is a claim which, to the Catholic, is tantamount to saying: “ This Church is quite definitely not the Church founded by Christ. He taught a body of fixed creeds ; we do nothing of the kind !” And yet, if you told that non-Catholic clergyman he was not a Christian, he would be highly insulted and indignant.

A priest was taking over the care of a parish for a few weeks to let the local pastor have a holiday. On the evening he arrived the two were talking about the newcomer’s duties, when a young Methodist minister was announced. “Father,” said the parish priest, “this is a grand young fellow ; come along and meet him.” The interview developed into a three-hour session! Towards the end the visiting priest confessed that perhaps it was unfair to have two against one. “But did you notice,” he asked, “that to all intents and purposes we were only one, since there was entire agreement between us on every point raised?” The young minister admitted that that fact had not escaped him. “Now,” pursued the priest, “please tell me this. Suppose you had any other Methodist, any other member of your flock, accompanying you during this visit, would there be the same unanimity between the two of you as between Father and me? “ I leave you, dear friends, to supply the answer that was given.

Shortly before Christmas, a year ago, three Protestant clergymen met in New York. They wanted to discuss the question,-was Jesus Christ really God? Incidentally, does not the very fact that there is room for a discussion on such a subject and that it is tolerated for a moment, condemn as un-Christian the Church that tolerates it ? But there was worse to come. These three learned divines, having weighed the evidence and sifted the arguments, declared in their wisdom that Jesus Christ was, indeed, the most perfect Man Who ever lived, but to maintain that He was God is fantastic, and cannot be admitted in this age of enlightenment !

Thence these men proceed to their pulpits and preach rank blasphemy. Can Christ’s Church be comprehensive enough to accept this? What is the answer? I have put that vital question to many a Protestant and I have never succeeded in getting a satisfactory reply. Forgive me if I must say I feel that there is none possible to give.

At this stage I do not think it should be necessary to assure you that we speak in no harsh or censorious spirit. We are mystified, and puzzled, and made sorrowful,-that is all,-by an enigma that seems to us insoluble.

THE MOTHER OF GOD

Our whole talk this evening might have turned on our respective attitudes towards Mary, the Mother of the GodMan. Many Protestants are convinced that we Catholics have gone astray in our devotion to Mary. They believe that we give her the place in our homage which is due only to God. They consider that we exaggerate recklessly her prerogatives and privileges and imagine her to have a power of intercession which puts her divine Son Himself in a position of dependence on her wishes and commands.

Let us suppose for the moment that all these charges are true. Let us admit, for the sake of argument, that Catholic devotion to Mary is, in point of fact, all awry. If we dishonour God by extravagant honour shown to His Mother, it would be reasonable to expect some clear indication of the divine disapproval. Has God given any such indication? Quite the contrary, there is incontrovertible proof that the love and reverence shown to Mary meets with God’s full blessing. From many such proofs we propose to select one only,-the story of Lourdes.

A hundred years ago this back-water little town came into the news. Our Lady appeared there several times, showing herself to a very poor, small, uneducated child named Bernadette. She spoke to this girl, commissioning her to see that a great Church would be built on the spot and promising that it would be a source of immense blessings to the world. Bernadette’s apparently impossible task is now a fait accompli. Lourdes is known the world over and millions have gathered from the ends of the earth to visit the shrine and.manifest their trust in Mary’s intercession and the childlike love they have for her as a Mother. Miracles have been multiplied at Lourdes. What is a miracle, first of all? It is a suspension of the ordinary laws of nature. If I hold this watch in mid-air and presently take away my hand, and if the watch remains there still suspended without any support, you have a miracle. The watch, according to the law of gravity, should fall to the ground at once. If it does not so fall you have a suspension of that law for which there is no natural explanation.

Miracles happen at Lourdes. Cures are brought about which cannot be explained or accounted for by natural causes. Sometimes it is the manner in which the cure is effected that is miraculous; sometimes it is the cure of the disease itself; sometimes both. But we can assert unhesitatingly that there are miracles. Why?

Well, at Lourdes there is a panel of doctors who examine and scrutinize every alleged cure. This panel is composed of men and women of any religion or of no religion at all. A few years ago the resident doctor told me that at that particular time he had on the panel a Communist, a Jew, some Protestants and some Catholics. Hence there is no question of packing the jury. Any duly qualified doctor can sit on this panel if he wishes.

In the hundred years since Our Lady first appeared at Lourdes well over two thousand miracles have been passed by such a panel. Now please note that they are in no way partial to the miraculous or to the claims made by those who were cured. Indeed some of them are hostile and would be very glad indeed if they could ridicule and discredit all such claims. Still, because they are honourable and conscientious men and women, they declare that, in more than two thousand cases submitted, there is no natural explanation possible.

The Church is more cautious and much more reserved in admitting miraculous intervention. She too has investigated each case. She has declared that in close on one hundred instances there is evidence which cannot be gainsaid, that the cure or the manner in which it was done is inexplicable apart from miracle.

CHARLES MACDONALD

Mr. Charles MacDonald, a Dublin man, went to Lourdes a few years ago in a dying condition. He travelled all the way on a stretcher and made the journey with great difficulty. He was suppurating in one shoulder; both lungs and both kidneys were in an advanced stage of tuberculosis. One night, in the hospital at Lourdes, the doctor said to the nurse: “Nurse, do not leave poor Charlie ; he cannot possibly live till morning.” The doctor was proved wrong. Charlie survived till next day. More, he actually asked to be taken down to the baths and immersed in the cold water !

If you are acquainted with the story of Lourdes you will remember how, under Bernadette’s hand, a spring of water gushed forth. That spring in the interval has given thousands and thousands of gallons of water, and it supplies the baths where pilgrims at Lourdes regularly bathe.

Imagine poor Charlie MacDonald, in the appalling condition we have described, being borne on his stretcher and telling his attendant to plunge him into the icy water! You will be inclined to exclaim that this is insane and cruel. But Charlie did that as an act of trust in the power of Mary’s intercession. He did it as an act of penance, heroic penance, and to express the love he had for her. What happened? Ask himself if you meet him. “In five seconds,” he tells you, “I was a new man. I walked out of the water a complete cure, in perfect health and I have never looked back.” You can see him any time you like. He is as sound and strong a man as you could wish to meet. Gratitude to Our Lady fills his heart, and also, he will explain a sense of something like embarrassment that she should have let her choice fall on him for this miraculous cure.

Now once more suppose that Catholic devotion to Mary is gone astray. Suppose it is derogatory to the homage due to God alone. Suppose we are showing to Mary a sort of idolatry. Suppose all the charges made by non-Catholics against this devotion are true. You have then this astounding state of affairs which might itself bid fair to border on the miraculous. You have Almighty God solemnly showing divine approval, in unmistakable manner, of our attitude to Mary. He endorses our love and trust and veneration by a series of miracles which cannot be gainsaid. He blesses abundantly what, in our supposition, is blasphemy and idolatry!

Lourdes is an argument not only for the supernatural, but a mark of approval of the filial love and zeal for Mary which have always flourished in the hearts of Catholics. What do Catholics say and think about Protestants? They think that Protestants are unjustified in considering that Catholic devotion to Mary is wrong. Not only is it not wrong. Lourdes and its series of proved miracles shows unmistakably that the love and veneration we give to Mary are most pleasing to her divine Son. Mary is God’s handiwork, “our tainted nature’s solitary boast,” to quote the Protestant poet. Any greatness she possesses has been given her by God. “He Who is mighty hath done great things to me, and holy is His Name.” In praising Mary and confiding in her power and protection all we are doing is showing honour to one whom God Himself has raised to a position unique in the divine economy.

MIRACLES OF SOUL

There are miracles at Lourdes. Over two thousand have been passed by the panel of doctors. But these are miracles, as we might say, merely in the physical order. Who can reckon the miracles wrought in the spiritual order? The sinners converted, the cynics and scoffers returning striking their breasts, the atheists led to belief in God and in His Church? There can be no panel of doctors to investigate the miracles of the soul. They are witnessed, for the most part, only by God’s angels. What glimpses of them we do get, are yet another sign of divine approval of Catholic devotion to Our Blessed Lady. Lourdes and veneration for Mary as practised in the Catholic Church do not detract from our love and adoration of God

This, indeed, must be recognised as understatement.

The Rev. Dr. Whitman, Methodist minister, wrote as follows, about a year and a half ago, in the Methodist Record : “We Protestants have never given to Mary the place she is given in the New Testament, though we profess to be New Testament Christians. She is there called the most blessed of all women and is given a supreme place among the daughters of Eve. She did feed the lips that spoke, as never man spoke, with her own milk. She did shadow, with her divinely-maiden self, the Light of Life when It was frailer than smoking flax . . .” We are happy to note this recognition, and we would stress again that all Mary’s greatness is precisely on account of her divine Son. Of herself, Our Lady is a mere creature, no greater than any of ourselves. The marvellous graces given to her are due to the fact that God chose her to be His Mother, and enriched her with the gifts and privileges proper to one destined for such unprecedented exaltation above angels and all mankind.

Even more arresting are the words of a German Lutheran magazine called “Sancta.” “If things are really what the Catholic Church states them to be,” it writes, “we must realise that the Message of Fatima is not for the Catholic Church alone, but is meant for the whole of Christianity, for the whole world. This is the question. Either it is the Holy Spirit Who is working through Mary, and these appearances are great miracles and incomprehensible graces which God has given to men, in our own very days, and therefore all Christians, even non-Catholics, ought to open wide their hearts and wills to such great appeals. Or it is a gigantic hoax, and every non-Catholic Christian ought to protest loudly against it.

“In either case these matters cannot be ignored by us. We ought to do this impartially, carefully, and without delay, because ruin threatens our frontiers. It might even happen that through not understanding them and grasping them, we might be rejecting the saving Hand of God. . . . We ask all other Christian denominations to join us in making an objective examination of these facts, which are of such extraordinary importance.

“If these facts are not to be denied, then we ought to infer from them all their consequences.”

This is, indeed, a most welcome indication of the rational approach to Catholic devotion to Mary, which may well lead our separated brethren to the full knowledge of the truth deposited by Christ in His Church. We make no attempt to deny that this is our ardent desire. If you have listened to our tape-recording so far, you will surely believe at this stage that this desire is not the outcome of any wish merely to add to the membership of the Catholic Church. It is no part of our purpose to point in a boastful spirit to the numbers of converts. Rather is it true that our apostolate derives from a love of the Catholic Church because of the knowledge we have of what she is and what she claims to be. We know her experimentally. We know her from the clear statements she makes in describing herself. She is no mere collection of individuals. She is no official travel bureau which is set up for the issuing of tickets for heaven. She is, says St. Paul, the Body of Christ and we are members of that Body. We cannot but wish and pray that everyone else, too, was one with us in that Body.

SUMMARY

Perhaps it might be useful, before turning off this machine, to set out under a few headings, the thoughts which have been occupying our minds. Our title was : Protestants and Catholics,-What We Think of Each Other. There are Protestants, we gratefully acknowledge, who think that ours is “a beautiful faith.” It is, and we illustrated its beauty by considering what we Catholics believe about the Real Presence, the Mass, and the Sacrament of Penance. There are Protestants, alas, who dislike us and our religion, who sometimes go to the lengths of vilifying both. We undertook to prove that this lamentable statement is true, and we went on to ask why. It is due, we said, first to ignorance or prejudice or both. Very often what they object to, is not Catholicism but the distorted version of Catholicism which is the only version they have ever heard of. They dislike us because they have encountered Catholics whose lives, to say the least, were a very poor advertisement for their glorious faith. They dislike us, finally, because they regard us as intolerant and arrogant, obstinately refusing to co-operate with other Christian bodies in their work for Reunion.

When Catholics look at Protestants they experience, in the first place, a feeling of poignant sorrow that they should be deprived of the immense blessings enjoyed in the Catholic Church. Secondly, they cannot understand how Protestants can be satisfied that a Church with many contradictions, on fundamental doctrines, can be hailed as the true Church of Christ. Lastly, they are at a loss to know why some Protestants take exception to the doctrine of the Catholic devotion to Mary, the Mother of God.

Nothing now remains, dear friends, except to thank you for coming to hear what we had to say, and for the courtesy and attention with which you listened. We propose, some time, to publish this Talk in booklet form. If we express the hope that it may come into your hands and that you may pass copies along to others, you will not misunderstand or misinterpret our motive.

APPENDIX

Since this booklet was written, the author has come across “ Journey to Lourdes “ by Alexis Carrel, A noted doctor and at one time a sceptic and unbeliever. He tells his story in the third person, calling himself “Lerrac” It is the account of a miracle which might be said to have forced him to his knees.

There is space only for a brief quotation or two. “This unfortunate girl (Marie Ferrand) is in the last stages of tubercular peritonitis. . . . She has had tubercular sores, lesions of the lungs, she may die at any moment under my nose. . . . If such a case as hers were cured it would indeed be a miracle. I would never doubt again. I would become a monk !”

. . . She was lying on her back, inert. Her head, with its white emaciated face, was flung back on the pillow. Her wasted arms lay flat at her sides. Her breathing was rapid . . . Her pulse was excessively rapid, a hundred and fifty beats a minute, and irregular. Her heart was giving out . . .

“ (Lerrac) made his way towards the Grotto. . . . He glanced again at Marie Ferrand. Suddenly he stared. It seemed to him that there had been a change. . . . If the change in Marie Ferrand was hallucination it was the first one he had ever had . . . He stiffened to resist a tremour of emotion. . . . he concentrated all his powers. . . . Her eyes, so dim before, were now wide open with ecstasy as she turned them towards the Grotto. . . . Suddenly Lerrac felt himself turning pale. The blanket which covered her distended abdomen was gradually flattening out. . . . He watched the intake of her breath and the pulsing of her throat with fascination . . .

“Marie Ferrand, in a white jacket, was sitting up in bed. Though her face was still grey and emaciated, it was alight with life . . . Doctor,’ she said, I am completely cured. I feel very weak, but I think I could even walk.”

“‘What will you do?’ Lerrac asked, ‘now that you are cured ? “‘ I shall join the Sisters of St. Vincent de Paul and nurse the sick,” she answered. To hide his emotion, Lerrac left the room.’

(Extract from “ Journey to Lourdes “ by Alexis Carrel quoted by kind permission of the publishers, Hamish Hamilton Ltd., London).

De licentia Superiorum Ordinis. Dublini, die 23 Februarii, 1959.

Nihil Obstat :

JOSEPH P. NEWTH, C.C., Censor Theol. Deput.

Imprimi Potest :

@ IOANNES CAROLUS,

Archiep. Dublinen,

Hiberniae Primas.

Dublini, die 3° Nov. anno 1961.

A Protestant Looks At Lourdes

BY RUTH CRANSTON

INDEX

The cures of Lourdes -cures of the hopelessly sick and disabled by forces unknown to modern science-have made that small French town the most visited shrine in the world. They have also, for nearly 100 years, been a source of endless controversy and wonder among doctors and laymen alike.

“The Miracle of Lourdes” is an exhaustive firsthand study of the famous Catholic shrine and its cures. To prepare it, Ruth Cranston lived in Lourdes, talked with doctors, nurses, stretcher-bearers, patients. A Protestant herself, her approach was that of the reporter and impartial investigator She has verified and documented the facts she presents. No reader will finish her report without feeling that, whatever the explanation, the experience of Lourdes reveals something profoundly significant to men and women everywhere.

THE MIRACLE OF LOURDES

I WENT to Lourdes out of an irrepressible curiosity.

For years I had been interested in the part that faith can play in alleviating our human ills. But I had known very little about this famous French shrine until one morning my eye fell on the headline:

IDIOT CHILD CURED AT LOURDES, BOY OF SEVEN REGAINS FULL INTELLIGENCE AFTER YEARS OF

LIVING LIKE AN ANIMAL

This incredible newspaper story, which also told of other startling cures-cancer of the stomach, peritonitis, lung tumor, angina-stirred my imagination. I wanted to know more about Lourdes.

I read every book I could find on the subject, both in English and French, for I spent much of my youth in France and knew the language. The more I read about it, the more deeply I became interested. Was this Catholic shrine, which apparently produced such staggering physical cures, and which certainly drew two million pilgrims each year, simply a mass delusion?

Was it a gigantic hoax or was it truly, as my French authors presented it, a place of simple sincerity, reverence, and amazing miracles?

I decided to see for myself. I had no axe to grind. I was not a Catholic but a Protestant. I belonged to no organization, religious, medical or metaphysical, which had any special interest in my findings. I was just an ordinary citizen with an inquiring mind, bent on my own quest.

When I reached Lourdes, in the spring of 1953, the help of Monseigneur Theas, Bishop of Tarbes and Lourdes, and of

Dr. Francois Leuret, President of the Medical Bureau, opened every door. Nurses, Protestant physicians, the sick and those who had been cured co-operated wholeheartedly to make this report possible.

Lourdes, a thriving town of some 13,000 residents, lies near the Spanish border. If you are lucky, you come into it-as

I did-in the radiant early morning: the sun just rolling up into a dazzling sky, silver streams rushing along between rows of swaying willows; the mountains soft and hazy in the distance.

For an hour the train has been speeding through rich waving cornfields, dotted with red-roofed farmhouses and clumps of dark-green cypress trees. As we enter Lourdes, we see that a long pilgrimage train is also just arriving. From every window eager faces of the sick look out full of hope. Although many of them have endured bitter sufferings during their journey, they seem amazingly cheerful. Someone starts a hymn, the “Song of Bernadette.” As I learned later, this is the theme song here. One hears it everywhere. Now car after car takes it up, till the whole long pilgrimage train is ringing with it:

“Ave, Ave-Ave, Maria.

Ave, Ave-Ave, Mari-ia!”

On this wave of joyous praise and hope, we move into the Lourdes station. There groups of leather-harnessed stretcher-bearers and blue-caped nurses hurry along the platform to assist with the very sick. The well pilgrims line up with the pilgrimage director or rush about to see their invalids safely established in the hospital ambulances. Lourdes is not like any place you ever saw before. You are in a city of pilgrims, and they are everywhere; people who have come from the four corners of the earth with but one purpose: prayer and healing, for themselves or their loved ones.

The city exists for them. You will be surrounded by them every moment of your stay in Lourdes.

The main street-ancient Rue De la Grotte- is a typical mountain town thoroughfare, narrow, bustling, noisy; shops offering varied Lourdes souvenirs crowd the tiny sidewalks. Pilgrims tramp up and down here all day long with their knapsacks and lunchboxes.

Follow this street to the bottom of the hill (Lourdes is a town of steep hills and sudden dramatic vistas) and it takes you into the Avenue Bernadette. Equally crowded, equally noisy, this leads directly to the Domaine, the vast enclosed park which contains the baths, the sanctuaries, the hospital, and all the buildings for the complex administration of the shrine. This is the section for which the rest of Lourdes exists. All day and every day, a continuous throng is surging toward it.

Here are people of many tongues and many garbs: a Scottish stretcher-bearer in a kilt, a Swiss pastor, shepherding his picturesque flock with their wide lace headdresses; English curates, Italian Monsignori, American and Irish bishops in colourful purple; French peasants, American students, Dutch sailors, bevies of little boys and girls in provincial costume. The old and the new jostle each other at every turn: donkeys carrying huge bundles of laundry to the convent on the hill; young men tearing through on motor bikes; groups of humble village priests trudging along barefoot; an actress in a long convertible en route to Biarritz. At the corner, cars and buses rush by- until suddenly a girl appears with a big herd of sheep. All halt, resignedly, and wait for her to go through. After all, Lourdes is still very much a country town. Cross the perilous, strident highway, enter the big iron gate, and you are in the Domaine, the refuge in which the endless stream of pilgrims turn their backs upon the world outside and give themselves to prayer. Directly you enter this consecrated area, you yourself feel more peaceful. It is a place of wide green lawns dotted with sacred statuary, of magnificent trees, of spacious vistas; and all about are rolling hills and the beauty of the grey-green countryside. Walk to the right, under the arcades of the great horseshoe ramp which sweeps out from the shrine’s three churches, and you find the famous piscines, or baths, where the pilgrims come to be plunged into the waters of the spring. Pass the fountains where thousands come to drink and to carry away Lourdes water, and presently you come to the very heart of Lourdes, the

Grotto.

Here, in a cleft in the mountain wall, flanked by tall pyramids of creamy flowers and hundreds of flickering candles, stands a statue of the Virgin. The sides of the Grotto are worn smooth by all the hands and lips that have reverently touched it.

All day long people are praying here, absorbed, withdrawn. Procession after procession comes and goes: pilgrims from

Brussels, from Bordeaux, from Strasbourg, Luxembourg, Dublin; from everywhere. For this is today the most visited shrine in the world.

And all, the people of Lourdes will tell you, because a young girl had a vision, and was faithful to it to the end. The story goes that, nearly a hundred years ago-it was February 11, 1858- the Virgin Mary appeared to a 14-yearold peasant girl, Bernadette Soubirous, while she was out gathering firewood. Bernadette saw “The Lady” in a sort of radiant mist in the grotto. There followed a series of such visions, during which The Lady instructed Bernadette: “Tell the priests to build a chapel on this spot. I want people to come here in procession. . . . Pray- tell them to pray! . . . Go and drink from the spring and wash in it.”

No spring had been known to exist there, but when the child dug in the earth at the indicated spot it appeared. At first a mere trickle, it soon became a powerful stream.

From the beginning the people believed in Bernadette. She communicated her intense faith and vision to them and they followed her implicitly, built a rude shrine at the spring and prayed there in increasing numbers. But local authorities scorned the visions, threatened Bernadette and her family, and attempted to close the shrine.

Then the miracles began. A blind man who washed his eyes in the spring water found that his sight was restored. A mother, one of Bernadette’s neighbours, dipped her dying child in the waters, and the little boy not only lived but became well and robust for the first time in his life. The child had suffered from a bone disease which had completely paralyzed his legs, and had been beset by violent convulsions until the physician finally pronounced his death “only a matter of hours.” And since the cure restored the child to complete health within 24 hours, the case made a profound impression, even on the medical profession. Soon people began to bring their sick from all over the land.

Finally the Church set up a commission to investigate the whole matter. After four years’ study it completely vindicated Bernadette and declared that certain cures had occurred which must be considered contrary to all known biological laws. Eventually in 1933, some 54 years after her death, Bernadette was canonized at St. Peter’s in Rome. One of the honoured guests at that ceremony was a 77-year-old man, Louis-Justin Bouhohorts, who owed his life to

Bernadette. For he had been that dying child, paralyzed and convulsive, who had been saved by one of Lourdes’ first widely publicized miracles.

Although the Church quite early accepted the miracles of Lourdes as authentic, the medical profession did not. For many years doctors pronounced Bernadette “hallucinated,” and the dramatically cured patients victims of “false diagnosis,” “hysteria,” and “auto-suggestion.” Lourdes was considered a resort for dupes and fakers. In 1903 a young doctor at the University of Lyons was ridiculed because he mentioned that a tuberculosis case he attended had been miraculously cured at Lourdes. “With such views, sir,” said the Dean coldly, “you can hardly expect to be received as a member of our faculty!’ “In that case,” said the young physician, “I must look elsewhere.” He went to New

York, to the Rockefeller Institute, and in 1912, as a result of his researches there, received the Nobel Prize. His name was

Alexis Carrel.

But the implacable professional prejudice against Lourdes was already breaking down. The Bureau of Medical

Verification, established at Lourdes in 1885 for professional study of alleged cures, attracted an increasing number of curious doctors of all beliefs to the shrine. In 1893 the celebrated French neurologist, Jean Martin Charcot, wrote sympathetically of Lourdes cures under the title: “The Faith Which Heals.” In 1906, when a Paris editor launched a bitter press campaign to close Lourdes in the name of hygiene, he met with an unexpected and thunderous reply. A physician in

Lyons (the city from which Dr. Alexis Carrel had departed only a few years before) now got together the signatures of

3000 doctors testifying to the invaluable services rendered by Lourdes to the sick “whom we doctors have been powerless to save,” and insisting that nothing be done to interfere with them.

A large number of books have since appeared by medical men of high reputation, discussing the phenomena of

Lourdes and giving accounts of outstanding cures. But the most powerful force in transforming public and professional opinion has been the cures themselves. They have constituted a living argument difficult to explain away. Their cases are documented in the archives of the Medical Bureau. Here are some of them.

In December, 1900, Gabriel Gargam, a railway postal clerk, was at his work sorting mail on the Orleans Southwest

Express when the train was wrecked. He woke up in a hospital bandaged from head to foot. He had been crushed almost to death. His collarbone was broken, his spine was hopelessly injured, paralyzing him from the waist down. The least movement produced vomiting, and he had to be fed painfully through a tube. A court ordered the railroad to pay 6000 francs annually, since he was “a human wreck who would henceforth need at least two persons to care for him.” After 20 months in the hospital Gargam was growing daily weaker. He could no longer swallow. The doctors warned his family that death was near.

Gargam had not set foot in a church for 15 years. But his mother, a deeply religious woman, persuaded him to undertake the pilgrimage to Lourdes. The journey was accomplished with great suffering, on a stretcher.

On his first afternoon at Lourdes he lay on the route of the Procession of the Blessed Sacrament, extremely weak, and soon entirely unconscious; his features relaxed, cold and blue. But at the moment when his nurse thought him dying, suddenly he opened his eyes, raised himself on his elbow, reeled back again, but tried a second time and succeeded in getting up. His paralysis was gone. He had recovered entire freedom of movement.

He was taken to the Medical Bureau, where doctors and newspaper correspondents surrounded him. “Gargam arrived wrapped in a long bathrobe,” one records. “He stood before us, a spectre. Big staring eyes alone were living in his emaciated colourless face.” But he was now able to throw aside his tube and eat normally, and in a few days he was to gain 20 pounds. When he returned home the post-office department’s physician told him he could immediately resume his post.

His case created a sensation. The 60 physicians who examined him at Lourdes all agreed that this cure was scientifically inexplicable. Indeed, Gargam had great difficulty in persuading the incredulous railroad officers to discontinue his annuity. But he enjoyed robust health for the rest of his life. He came to Lourdes each year, serving tirelessly as a stretcher-bearer, until he finally died in 1952 at the age of 83.

Madame Marie Bire of Lucon, hardworking mother of six children, suffered fiendish headaches, dizziness, and was finally stricken with blindness. After examining her the doctor said, “I hate to tell you, Madame, but there has been a complete wasting of the optic nerves. I’m afraid there’s no cure.”

Some months later Madame Bire went to Lourdes, accompanied by her doctor and her oldest daughter. At the Grotto, which she visited in an invalid carriage, she suddenly stood up and said, “Ah, I see the Blessed Virgin!” She fell back into the carriage seat, fainting. Her daughter thought she was dying. But Madame Bire quickly recovered consciousness and found that she could still see.

She was taken to the Medical Bureau and examined by several doctors-among them Dr. Henri Lainey, an oculist from

Rouen, who wrote: “Examination of the eyes with the ophthalmoscope showed on both sides a white pearly papilla, devoid of all colour. The diagnosis was forced upon me: here was white atrophy of the optic nerve, of cerebral cause.

This, one of the gravest affections, is recognized by all authorities as incurable. But Madame Bire could read the finest print, and her distant vision was just as good.” She had recovered her sight, but the lesions remained. They were to disappear a little later.

Ten doctors made a second examination next day. Same results: the organ still atrophied and lifeless, but the sight still clear and perfect. Questions followed thick and fast. “How can you see, Madame, when you have no papillae?” one doctor asked impatiently.

“Listen gentlemen, I am not familiar with your learned words,” Madame Bire replied with spirit. “I have just one thing to say. For nearly six months I could not see, and now I can see. That is enough for me!”

It had to be enough for her questioners also. They acknowledged that the cure appeared complete. The future would tell whether it was permanent.

A month after her return home three eye specialists examined Madame Bire again. The Medical Bureau wished to know whether she was still seeing with “dead” eyes. They found that the phenomena had ceased. “All traces of papillary atrophy have disappeared,” one of the examining physicans wrote. “There are no longer lesions. The cure is complete.” That was in the fall of 1908. When the president of the Medical Bureau, Dr. Auguste Vallet, saw her 20 years later her sight was still excellent. All the doctors who studied the case found her cure “absolutely inexplicable clinically.” Other extraordinary cures baffled the doctors during those early years of the shrine. Little Yvonne Aumaitre, daughter of a Nantes physician, was cured, at the age of two, of double clubfoot-the case being recorded by her father in the

Medical Bureau records. Constance Piquet was cured of cancer of the breast- an advanced case pronounced inoperable by two Parisian doctors. Marie Le Marchand, her face half eaten away by a tuberculous skin disease, came out of the piscine with only a long red scar to remind her of her former malady. A vivid account of her before-and-after appearance is on file in the Medical Bureau.

Such cases gave pause to even the most antagonistic doctors, and the attitude of the medical profession as a whole changed considerably. As a British doctor wrote in 1930. “The change is from scepticism and incredulity to an acknowledgement, not necessarily of the supernatural, but that cures do occur at Lourdes which cannot be explained by any known biological laws.” A year later the Society of Medicine and Surgery of Bordeaux devoted an entire meeting to Lourdes. The papers read by the various doctors, discussing cases of sudden inexplicable healing, were later printed in

Bordeaux’s solidly respectable Fortnightly Gazette of Medical Science.

Obviously medical men no longer dismissed the shrine as merely a resort for charlatans and crackpots. This interest of the medical profession has continued. In 1953 some 1500 doctors from all over the world registered at the Lourdes Medical Bureau. Many of them, as is true every year, studied the records and helped examine the patients.

The International Medical Association of Lourdes, organized in 1927, has an enrollment of 5000 doctors, from 30 countries, who assist in the methodical checking of alleged cures.

All this does not mean there is no longer opposition or hostility. There is plenty. “But,” as Dr. A. Marchand wrote in his The Facts of Lourdes, “the time of systematic contempt has passed.”

“What is the most remarkable cure you’ve witnessed?” I asked one of the doctors at the Bureau, an old-timer who had been coming to Lourdes every year for 20 years.

“It’s hard to select,” he said. “But- well, there was Madame Augustine Augault-a remarkable case. I lived near her, knew the two surgeons who attended her, and also her parish priest. So I know that her cure was genuine.” This woman had been ill for 12 years with a fibroid tumor of the uterus. It had grown to such enormous proportions that the pressure had caused chronic gastric troubles and vomiting. A heart condition made an operation impossible, and the case had reached an apparently hopeless stage.

As a last resort Madame Augault decided to go to Lourdes. Her family physician strongly opposed this, telling her that she would never come back alive. But Madame Augault persisted.

She made the journey on a mattress, at the end of her strength and very close to death. Four injections were necessary to help her heart during the trip. A doctor who visited her on the train told the Medical Bureau later that he “had been startled by the dimensions of her abdomen.”

On the first morning at Lourdes she was taken to the baths on a stretcher. During the brief instant of her immersion she felt excruciating pain, then the pressure in her abdomen seemed to disappear. But she was very tired and continued to suffer terribly until she was carried on her stretcher to the Procession at four that afternoon. Then, at the precise moment when the Blessed Sacrament passed by, her sufferings vanished, and she was conscious of a rebirth of her energies. She stayed on her cot, however, and said nothing about how she felt. The next day she was again taken to the piscine.

The attendants who had bathed her before observed with amazement that her abdomen was entirely flat and apparently normal. Moreover, she was able to walk.

After this bath she was taken to the Medical Bureau and examined by some 30 doctors. The official record states: “On examination, the abdomen was found to be perfectly supple. The skin was ‘pleated’ like that of a woman who has had a child. The belt which the invalid wore on her arrival at Lourdes is now seven inches too large. The coat, on which the buttonholes show marks of stretching from the distension of the abdomen, has become much too big and now overlaps considerably.”

Madame Augault’s cure was permanent.

How are the cures verified? What safeguards are there against fraud? To, begin with, every pilgrimage is accompanied by one or more medical men, and no sick person is accepted without a medical certificate from his home physician stating his disease and present condition. When a supposed cure occurs, the pilgrimage doctor reports at once to the Medical

Bureau. The doctors there then examine the patient and discuss the case. Did the illness really exist? Is there a cure? If so, can it be explained naturally? Neurotic cases are ruled out completely. No case is accepted unless there has been some organic change-the healing of malignant tissue, the restoration of wasted nerves and muscles, the sudden knitting of chronic bone fractures.

If the case appears inconclusive, it is immediately dropped. If it is retained, the patient is kept under observation by a local physician for at least a year, and complete documentation, including X rays, laboratory reports, statements from attending physicians and other witnesses, is collected. Then the patient is brought back to Lourdes for another examination by doctors of the most varied backgrounds.

“The medical work at Lourdes is run entirely by doctors, never forget that,” Dr. Leuret, until his recent death the president of the Medical Bureau, told me. Dr. Leuret was a remarkable person: Legion of Honour, Croix de Guerre, professor of medicine and head of a large clinic in the worst section of Bordeaux.

“During my time here,” Dr. Leuret continued, “Jews, Moslems, Buddhists, Hindus, Protestants of all sects, have been among our colleagues; atheists and unbelievers, too. It’s this study of the cures by men of such different viewpoints that guarantees our good faith.”

After the medical commission at Lourdes decides that a cure is outside the laws of nature, it is sent on to the medical commission at Paris. This commission, composed of 20 distinguished physicians and surgeons, then declares (or decides not to declare), “We find no natural or scientific explanation of this cure.” Only when this body has passed a case does it finally go to a Canonical Commission of the Church for final evaluation as a miracle.

How many have occurred at Lourdes? In nearly a century of the shrine’s existence 51 cases have been pronounced miraculous cures by the Church. This however, represents the most stringent selection. The Church does not deny the possibility of miracles “less complete,” of which there have been many; but it refuses to authenticate them. Among other stipulations a Canonical Commission’s requirements for a miraculous cure are:

1. That the malady was grave and not improving under medication. 2. That the cure was instantaneous, with no period of convalescence. 3. That the cure was perfect, and that there was no relapse.

A large number of actual cures go without official recognition because of insufficient data. Sometimes home physicians have not kept sufficiently precise data. Other doctors refuse point-blank to furnish X rays, diagnoses or laboratory reports. “If it’s Lourdes, we’re not interested,” they say. And scores of people who are cured do not report it simply because they dislike publicity. Indeed, many people who now enjoy the blessings of being well after years of agony care not at all that their cures are not recognized as miracles. They come to Lourdes and give thanks every year just the same.

The Medical Bureau at Lourdes has fairly complete records of 1200 cures which it recognizes as being “inexplicable under natural laws,” but which the Church, for one reason or another, has refused to authenticate as miracles. In addition it has notations and material concerning some 4000 other cases that are very probably complete and genuine cures. This may seem a small number, in view of the many thousands who come. But ten such cures -or even one-would be equally dumbfounding.

When a patient who has been cured returns to Lourdes for examination, one of the visiting doctors is often asked to officiate. An American, Dr. Smiley Blanton, directed the examination of one of the most famous cures-Charles McDonald. Thirty- two doctors at the Bureau studied this remarkable case, and Dr. Blanton later read an account of it before a joint session of the American Psychoanalytic and Psychiatric Associations.

Charles McDonald was brought to Lourdes from Dublin on September 6, 1936, with the Catholic Young Men’s Pilgrimage of Ireland. He was then 31 and had been ill since he was 20. His Dublin physician certified that he had tuberculosis of the spine, nephritis, and tuberculous arthritis of the left shoulder. For 15 months he had been completely bedfast, and had five large draining abscesses. He endured maddening pain, was unable to sit up for more than four minutes at a time, and was pronounced beyond medical aid.

No change in McDonald’s condition occurred during his first day at Lourdes. The next day he was bathed again and later carried to a service at the Grotto. It was then that he began to feel the first glow of health.

“It should be . . . remembered,” says Dr. Blanton, “that for 15 months the patient had been unable to move his hips or shoulders without severe pain. Now, lying on a stretcher at the Grotto, he experimented by moving his arm slightly. There was no pain. He loosened the brace strap on his shoulder and raised his shoulders from the pillow-still without pain.”

The next morning, when the doctors and nurses who had forbidden him to get up were out of the room, he got out of bed and dressed himself without help. That day he was taken to the Grotto in an invalid chair. Afterwards, though he had made not the slightest move without agonizing pain for more than a year, he walked up the steps into the Rosary Church and was able to make a genuflection and kneel at one of the benches.

When he returned to Dublin, McDonald had the supreme pleasure of dispensing with the ambulance which had been so vitally necessary one short week before. The pilgrimage physician, Dr. Christopher Hannigan, wrote on August 29, 1937: “I have seen Mr. McDonald twice since his return from Lourdes. I can declare definitely that there are no traces of his former illness. I am glad to testify to this cure, as when I first saw him I regarded his case as hopeless.”

On September 16, 1937, McDonald returned to Lourdes. Dr. Blanton and 32 other doctors then examined him, found him in excellent health (as he is to this day), and agreed that “No medical explanation, in the present state of science, can be given for his cure.”

In his report to his American confreres Dr. Blanton concludes: “We must lay aside as untenable the accusation that cases such as Charles McDonald’s are in any way ‘fixed’ or the histories ‘doctored.’ There does appear to be at this shrine a sudden quickening of the healing processes. The percentages of such cures are certainly too great to be laid to coincidence, nor do the details of the cures conform to the laws of recovery as we know them.

Even coincidental cures in our hospitals do not in the space of two or three days get up and walk without pain after 15 months in bed with continual pain. I believe that something does occur which is ‘on the margin of the laws of nature.’”

Many observers think the extraordinary emotional climate of Lourdes responsible for many of the cures achieved there. For the whole atmosphere of the shrine is one which intensifies faith.

One amazing aspect of Lourdes is the fact that the city has never had an epidemic. Two million travellers and 30,000 sick pass through there every year. Hundreds are given baths each day, and many persons suffering from all manner of diseases are immersed in the same water. Yet apparently no infection ever results.

The Lourdes water is a strange phenomenon. In the early days some canny Lourdes citizens had visions of exploiting the spring and turning the town into a flourishing thermal resort like Aix-les-Bains or Vichy.

They were bitterly disappointed when analysis revealed that the water contained no curative or medicinal properties whatever. It was found to be “similar in composition to most water found in mountainous areas where the soil is rich in calcium.”

However, a bacterial study of the bath waters did bring a remarkable discovery. The Medical Bureau, curious to learn why no infection resulted when one diseased patient after another was bathed in the same water, took samples from the baths and had them analyzed. The reports showed extreme pollution-streptococcus, staphylococcus, colibacillus, and all sorts of other germs. Yet, astonishingly, when guinea pigs were inoculated with this polluted water they remained perfectly healthy. At the same time, two out of three guinea pigs died when inoculated with water from the river Seine containing much the same bacilli.

Hence the shrine’s devotees have an extraordinary regard for Lourdes’ water, as is attested by the following dramatic footnote: At the end of the day the stretcher- bearers and nurses often dip a glass of water from the baths and drink it as an act of faith.

The service of these voluntary workers is lavish and untiring. Many of them are themselves cures of former years, and their mere presence-the fact that they are now obviously strong and well-gives tremendous inspiration and hope to the sick.

The brancardiers, as the stretcher- bearers are called, come from all walks of life-generals, mechanics, judges, clerks, bankers, civil servants. There are more than 2000 of them in the permanent association, each pledged to give a certain amount of time each year. They are on duty from dawn until midnight, and sometimes later. Their tasks are heavy, their meals uncertain, their rest slight and often broken by emergency calls, for during the busy season they must care for the sick from as many as 22 pilgrim trains a day.

Every brancardier is given a small handbook of rules, the last of which is: “He must pray without ceasing.” The brancardiers ask nothing for themselves but the privilege of serving. “In 30 years’ service,” the president of their order told me proudly, “I have never once been refused by a brother brancardier, or even heard a murmur from him, when I asked him to perform one more hard job at the end of the day.”

The volunteer nurses, of whom there are likewise about 2000 enlisted from all social classes, also work indefatigably. They run up and down long flights of stairs, carry bedpans, change fetid dressing, bathe malodorous wounds. They do it cheerfully, joyfully, and with constant prayer.

Indeed the devotion, the spirit of dedication and self-giving that permeates the whole place, is a powerful element in the Lourdes atmosphere. Hundreds of people look forward to giving up their vacation time to this work, year after year. The girl in the souvenir shop at my hotel comes from England every year and works in the shop mornings so that she can help at the baths in the afternoon. The girl at the Cook’s Travel Agency, who works all day, goes every evening to help at the Grotto until midnight.

All these people find the utmost happiness in such service. As one stretcher- bearer said, “These few days at Lourdes each August fix me up for the whole year. I live for 12 months on what I get here in just this one week!”

Early each morning you meet them swinging along the Esplanade on their way to the Mass-the leather-harnessed brancardiers carrying the stretcher cases, pushing the tragic little carriages. Among the “grands malades”-the very sick- are sights to wring the heart: a girl with beautiful classic features peering out from the plaster cast imprisoning her from head to foot; a priest, white and shrunken, in the last stages of tuberculosis; a woman in a black veil, trying to conceal a face covered with flaming red sores; an old man hobbling along on twisted stumps. But as they pass, you see their lips moving in prayer, you hear the nurses and brancardiers softly humming Ave Maria.

Once the patients are back from Mass, the trek to the baths begins. Volunteer nurses bathe the patients one by one, lotioning those too ill to be immersed, but carefully removing all bandages so that the water makes direct contact. All morning, and from two till four in the afternoon, the lines of stretchers and little carriages go to and from the pool. Behind the sick stands a tightly packed mass of friends and relatives, all praying earnestly. The prayer and faith perpetually going up as with one voice constitute an almost living force whose rhythms get into the blood. One would have to be made of stone not to be moved by it.

At four o’clock the bells peal, and the Procession of the Blessed Sacrament forms at the Grotto. The loud-speakers open up and a great hymn rolls out, the huge crowd joining in unison. The procession then makes its long and impressive way along the Esplanade, each pilgrimage under its own banner. In the square the sick are lined up in two long rows, and as the Blessed Sacrament approaches, the ardour of their prayer mounts. Then the officiating bishop, robed in white and gold, leaves the shelter of his golden canopy carrying the monstrance. The sick raise their terrible faces for the blessing, the great crowd falls to its knees, and the Host is raised above each one. This is the moment when a sick one sometimes rises and, pale but triumphant, follows the Procession with calm, victorious tread up the steps and into the Church.

Every evening at eight o’clock, when the torchlight procession begins, the Domaine becomes a blazing field of light. Everyone carries a paper-shaded candle to the Grotto, where the various pilgrimages gather under their illuminated signs. The tiny candle flames form larger and larger blocks of light until they become a huge wheel of fire about the Grotto. Then the procession starts out through the enveloping darkness like a moving serpent of fire. As it winds down the path, there is a great burst of singing under the stars. It is the “Song of Bernadette”-Ave, Ave Maria. The procession continues around the great horseshoe ramp, down the side of one Esplanade and up the other. The doors of the Hospital of Our Lady of Lourdes, on the Esplanade, are opened, and from the rows of beds the sick join in the song, each in his own tongue.

For two hours the marching and singing continue, and then the marchers mass in the square before the Rosary Church. At a signal from the bishop all singing stops. Then, declaring their belief in God in Latin, the universal language of the Roman Catholic Church, all burst into the majestic chanting of the Credo. It is an experience no one who shares it will forget.

Thus, even on a normal day, Lourdes is a tremendously exhilarating and inspiring place. When a possible miracle occurs, it becomes positively electrifying. I saw it happen.

One afternoon I sat on the terrace of the Cafe Royale, directly across from the entrance to the Domaine. Everybody “falls in” there at the end of a hard day. The brancardiers unharness. The directors of the pilgrimages lean back in their chairs and relax over coffee and little cakes. Some of the old priests enjoy a joke and a cigar with the younger men, and perhaps a thimble of cognac in their coffee.

The Hospital of the Sept Douleurs is just a few steps away, and stretcher-bearers and invalid carriages go by constantly. Buses swing by too, bearing crowds of singing pilgrims-the Basques and Italians waving a last good-bye to the Dutch and English in the cafe, with whom they have shared their five pilgrimage days. Traffic is terrific, as the different groups and organizations pour out of the Domaine after the Procession.

Suddenly, through all the hubbub and commotion, there is a swirl of figures over at the gateway, and the mighty roll of the Magnificat. All spring to their feet, rush to the pavement, cross themselves excitedly. Something is happening. A cure perhaps-a miracle? Then you see them.

Following the long line of stretchers and carriages returning to the hospital comes a jubilant little procession: a group of brancardiers forming a guard of honour for a radiant young girl who walks as if on air. She is one of the Dutch pilgrims, she had been carried down to the Grotto that afternoon on a stretcher, after four years in bed with a tubercular spine. She is returning on her own two feet, singing and praising God.

Everybody joins in the singing. The Dutch and Spanish women hug each other. The little boys throw their caps in the air and cheer. The waiters smile and bring a double order for everyone.

Was it a miracle, really? Time will tell. But that girl’s eyes-!

I recognized one of the “unbelieving” French doctors, standing at the curb quite near me. “Well, what did you think of it?” I asked casually.

“It was-” He suddenly turned and fled into a shop, handkerchief held up to his face. I didn’t realize until afterwards that he was weeping. Never again did he have anything derisive to say about miracles.

At dinner everybody talks about it. The Dutch are staying at our hotel, and one of their nurses tells the wonderful story over and over. She is impatient because the pilgrimage doctor still hesitates to admit a miracle. He wants to wait and see. “But it’s true!” the nurse insists. “I saw it with my own eyes! Four of us had to carry the girl to the bath. And after we had plunged her in, stiff as a board, I saw her arms and legs bend. And I saw her sit down on the edge of the bath and help us while we put her clothes back on again!”

“She left her cast and brace at the Grotto,” another verifies joyfully. “The other patients are enraptured. They had all been praying for this girl day and night-she was the worst of our cases.”

She is right. There is neither envy nor disappointment among the ambulant patients who have been denied their own cures. All round the big dining room there are faces alight, shining eyes and triumphal smiles of delight at their comrade’s good fortune. It is something to cherish and remember, for the joy in these facts, the spirit in this room, transcend description.

One might think the uncured would regard their pilgrimage as an unmitigated tragedy. Instead they seem to find at Lourdes a new hope and a new strength with which to bear their burdens. Some patients, of course, do return home disappointed and rebellious, and still passionately longing for the cure that was denied them. But they are rare.

They come to Lourdes weary and worn with pain, hardly able to make the dreadful journey, resenting their sickness and wondering why God has thus afflicted them-a burden to themselves and to those who bring them. At Lourdes station the humblest of them, the despairing and the lost, are warmly welcomed, gently transported, tenderly looked after. In their quarters they are surrounded with all that lavish care, love and devotion can give. At the shrine they find themselves in company with hundreds of other sick-many worse off than they-and the transformation begins. They start to think about their neighbour in the next bed or in the next little carriage. They pray for him and soon begin to long, above everything else, for his cure.

In sum, they forget themselves. They soon become absorbed in love of God and love for fellow man, the two great solvents for all human ills, as Jesus taught.

Time after time I have been told at Lourdes-by doctors, nurses, brancardiers, even by the man who sweeps the paths: “The sick? Oh, Madame, they’ve forgotten about their own cure. All they care about is that the man in the next row shall get well. . . . ‘Don’t bother about me-that fellow over there needs you more.’ . . . ‘Never mind, nurse, I can wait.’ . . . ‘Look after this poor lady in the next carriage-she really needs attention.’”

Naturally the pain comes back again, but it hasn’t the same hold. Their minds are not centered on it any longer. And when the time comes to go home, though they haven’t been physically cured, though they know what hardships and suffering yet another pilgrimage will mean, their one cry is: “If only I can come back next year! If only I can come again to Lourdes!”

During my study of this shrine, which occupied more than a year, I looked up several famous cures, or miracles, as they are called. Perhaps the most astonishing of them was Guy Leydet, whose restoration from hopeless idiocy first drew my attention to Lourdes.

Today Guy Leydet is a tall, nice-looking lad of 14. When I visited his home in St. Etienne, where his father is a professor in a local business college, I found him happily running off with his friends to play football. His mother, a charming and very pretty woman, was proud of his standing in his classes, said he hoped soon to go to England as an exchange student.

But less than ten years ago he had the brain of an idiot. Doctors had pronounced the dread word: “Incurable.”

Guy Leydet was a normal child till the age of five. Then he was stricken with acute meningo-encephalitis-a brain disease that can wreck the nervous system. It paralyzed both arms and legs, caused frequent convulsions and epileptic fits, and, worst of all, finally brought about complete idiocy. The child could no longer even recognize his parents, and could utter only guttural sounds. This condition lasted for two years, and the parents all but ruined themselves financially in fruitless efforts to find a cure.

Finally they went to Lourdes. At the piscine, compassionate nurses dipped the rigid little boy into the water. His mother, fearing another convulsion, stood near anxiously, and they handed him back to her.

Then suddenly it happened.

Guy Leydet opened his eyes, reached his arms toward his mother and in a clear, childish voice cried, “Mama!” He then began to count his fingers, naming them over, as French children do. Moreover, he moved his arms and legs perfectly.

Back home the Leydets called in their doctor, who gazed in stupefaction at his former patient. He admitted that he could not understand it at all. “Well-try to re-educate the boy,” he said, still incredulous.

It was easy. The child’s mind rapidly reawakened, and he soon learned to read and write as well as play vigorously like other children. On September 26, 1947- one year after his cure-he was examined by 40 doctors at the Medical Bureau. Dr. Robert Dailly, a child specialist of Paris, tested his mental development for two hours. Then he announced simply: “This child is normal.”

The case provoked long and heated discussion at the Medical Bureau, for the cure of such a condition-of postencephalitic idiocy-was unprecedented. One major question tantalized the doctors. As one of them bluntly put it: “With what brain does this child think? What brain was he using when he stood up and suddenly called to his mother? Was it a new brain or the partially destroyed idiot’s brain he had a moment before?”

Whatever the answer, it was contrary to all natural laws, and in the end the 40 doctors unanimously declared that the child had been supernaturally cured. The case was never proclaimed a miracle because the doctors who attended the boy before his visit to Lourdes have absolutely refused to submit any records or certificates.

“But what do we care about that?” said the mother. “We have our boy-happy and well. Our Te Deums are sung right here at home, every day!”

Another famous cure I visited was Fernand Legrand. He had come to Lourdes as a grand malade more than 20 years ago, but one of the brancardiers there still remembers him vividly. “The most terrible case I ever helped to carry,” he told me.

I went to see Legrand at his home in Gisors, a small town near Paris. He is a cobbler and lives in a narrow house behind his modest shop. We sat by the fire in the cheerful little sitting room, and I studied his fine face. He is a man of 50 with the face of an Emerson, the hands of a shoemaker. As customers dropped in at intervals to claim a pair of boots, Fernand Legrand told me his story.

When he was a husky young fellow of 26 he met with a hunting accident, and the lower part of his left leg had to be amputated. He recovered from the operation, but a year later severe pains began in that leg, followed by numbness which gradually spread all over his body. The trouble was diagnosed as polyneuritis, involving particularly the spinal nerves and the spinal cord itself.

All the classic treatments were tried, but Legrand only grew worse. His legs became gangrenous and greatly swollen, the rest of his body as thin as a skeleton. He suffered tortures, and finally his fiancee persuaded him to go to Lourdes.

It took six men to get him from the automobile into the pilgrimage train, for Legrand could make no movement of any kind. Each effort, each disturbance of the bedclothes even, gave him excruciating pain. The journey was a horror.

His own physician, Dr. Edouard Decrette of Vernon, accompanied him and described the case with such concern at Lourdes that the Medical Bureau appointed Dr. Marc Clement of Hyeres to examine Legrand. Together Drs. Clement and Decrette went to the hospital, where they found that Legrand had just returned from his first bath.

Dr. Clement took the right leg out of its cast and bandages. “Look here,” he said to Dr. Decrette, “you told me he had a swollen leg. This one isn’t swollen, and it is dry.”

“Impossible!” said Decrette. Then, as he looked, he gave a quick exclamation. “But-since when?”

“Since my bath,” said the patient. “When they dipped me in the water I felt a moment of agonizing pain, as-though my arms and legs were being broken to pieces. Then a heavenly warmth spread through my body, my legs could bend, and I no longer had any pain.” Dr. Decrette, who had seen Legrand in such a horrible condition for so long, was so moved that it was several minutes before he could even speak.

Legrand’s recovery was complete. He has since returned to Lourdes nearly every year as a brancardier.

“Doesn’t your artificial leg make it difficult for you?” I asked.

“Difficult!” he laughed. “Madame, you should see me. Since my cure I can run like a rabbit, wooden leg and all. None of the brancardiers with real legs can get ahead of me!”

One evening, I had dinner with Jeanne Fretel, one of the most famous of recent Lourdes cures. When I met her at the doors of the Sept Douleurs Hospital, she had been on duty there since six o’clock that morning. Yet as she came swinging along in her nurse’s uniform, a slim girl with big dark eyes, she was fresh, smiling and unfatigued. As she sat opposite me in the hotel restaurant a few minutes later, laughing and chatting over the meal, it was hard to imagine how desperate was her plight five years ago. But her case history, one of the most completely documented at Lourdes, contains 80 pages of detailed hospital reports, laboratory analysis, X-ray records, etc., to prove it.

Jeanne was born in 1914 in the town of Sougeal, near Rennes. She came of simple people. She had her way to make. She was a waitress, practical nurse, mother’s helper. From childhood on, her health was precarious. In January, 1938, when she was 24, she was operated on for appendicitis. This proved to be the first of 13 operations, for she developed tubercular peritonitis. Her abdomen gradually increased in size, became hard and intensely painful. Nothing helped, and her condition continued to grow worse.

She was put aboard the train of the Rosary Pilgrimage unconscious, and arrived at Lourdes on Tuesday, October 5, 1948. No improvement occurred during the first three days there. On Friday morning she was carried, dying, to the Mass for the Sick. The priest hesitated to give her Communion because of her constant vomiting and extreme weakness, but her brancardier insisted, and she was given a bit of the consecrated wafer.

“It was then,” said Jeanne Fretel, “that suddenly I felt well and became aware, for the first time. that I was at Lourdes. They asked me how I felt. I said I felt very well. My abdomen was still hard and swollen, but I was not suffering at all.

“After Mass they took me to the Grotto on my stretcher. After some minutes there I had a sensation as if someone took me under the arms to help me sit up. I found myself in a sitting position. I looked around to see who had helped me, but could see no one. Then I had the feeling that the same hands that had helped me to sit up now took my hands and put them on my abdomen. I perceived that it had become normal. And then I was seized with an extraordinary hunger.”

The journey home was accomplished without fatigue, although she was on her feet in the train much of the time, tending the other patients. When her own physician, Dr. Alphonse Pelle, saw her he was speechless, and left the room, overcome. When he came back a few minutes later, the tears were running down his cheeks. He then gave Jeanne a rigorous examination, but could hardly believe his findings.

An interesting sidelight is the fact that Dr. Pelle was an agnostic and unbeliever- “hostile” to religion, the Medical Bureau report says. But it was his precise records and certificates that established the case as a miraculous cure. “I have been a terrible blow to Dr. Pelle’s scientific self-respect,” Jeanne said.

Jeanne is in perfect health now, and the long hours of her work as a practical nurse do not affect her at all. The life of a miraculee isn’t easy, however. Her correspondence is tremendous. Letters come from all over the world-from doctors, from sick people, from unbelievers wanting to be reassured. If she sends typewritten replies, people are not satisfied. The letters must be in her own hand, and after her day’s work she frequently stays up far into the night writing them.

When she comes to Lourdes, everybody points her out. Her work in the hospital is interrupted time and again by visitors, by relatives of the sick who want to see her, to touch her. Six persons came up and spoke to her while we were dining together at the hotel. “I can’t refuse them,” Jeanne Fretel said. “I can’t refuse anything, after what has been done for me.”

All the miracles I know about-and I have talked with many of them-have certain characteristics in common.

First, they are simple people, the poor and the humble. Not one came from a wealthy or impressive family. “The Blessed Virgin does not interest herself much in the rich,” they say at Lourdes.

Second, they seem to be immune to illness after their cure. They don’t get sick at all, even with common colds or digestive troubles. They are in excellent health at all times.

Finally, they have a poise, an inner dignity, that comes from the desire to be worthy of the great thing they have experienced. They are completely unassuming, and have no wish to exploit the publicity which surrounds them. They just want to give, in gratitude for what has been done for them.

Whatever one may consider is the real source of their cure, there is no slightest doubt that a transcendental influence has laid its hand upon these people and blessed them-not merely with a physical cure but with enduring serenity, peace and deep joy. I count it a privilege to have known them. But now come the crucial questions: What is the origin, the cause of all these cures? How do you explain them? If they are not miracles-that is, produced by some supernatural power- what are they?

The answer of the sceptics, both lay and medical, is a flat, “I don’t believe it! It’s too fantastic.”

When I was a young reporter in Asia, people in remote Indian and Chinese villages did not believe in the New York skyline either. Nothing I could say would change their conviction that it was “only a picture.” They had never seen such a place. It was something outside their experience. Therefore it could not be.

“Before you enter into a discussion about Lourdes with anybody,” says Dr. Blanton, “it will save time and much useless argument if you find out first if the person you are talking to was ever there.” After the rationalist physician has actually seen a cure his scientific cocksureness is severely shaken. He no longer avoids the word “miracle.” Instead he uses it freely-almost involuntarily.

He does not, however, necessarily concede that the miracles have a supernatural origin. One of the favourite explanations of Lourdes cures by rationalist doctors is that they are produced by “unknown natural forces”-unknown today, but whose laws may be uncovered tomorrow.

Most of the doctors at the Medical Bureau discount this theory. They point out that the action of the forces of nature is always uniform and unchanging. The law of gravity, for example, works in exactly the same way for everybody. If “unknown natural forces” were responsible for Lourdes cures, they would have to act the same for all persons under similar conditions. But the exact opposite is true. The “unknown forces” act neither constantly nor uniformly. They act today, but not tomorrow; for some people, but not for others. One of the baffling things about Lourdes cures is their extreme variability and unpredictability.

What, then, is the cause of the miracles? Many ascribe it to prayer.

When the great scientist, Charles Steinmetz of General Electric, was asked by his colleagues what was the most important line of research for them to follow next, he answered without hesitation: “Prayer. Find out about prayer!” Alexis Carrel has stated his conviction that “the power of prayer is the greatest power in the world.”

Writing about the miracles, Carrel has noted that “patients have been cured almost instantaneously of various afflictions such as peritoneal or bone tuberculosis, abscesses, osteitis, suppurating wounds, cancer, etc. In a few seconds, or at the most a few hours, wounds are cicatrized, pathological symptoms disappear, appetite returns. The miracle is characterized by an extreme acceleration of the processes of organic repair. No scientific hypothesis up to the present accounts for the phenomena, but the only condition indispensable for its occurrence is prayer. The patient does not need himself to pray or to have any religious faith; but someone around him must be in a state of prayer.

Dr. Vallet, former president of the Medical Bureau, does not believe that prayer in itself is capable of releasing the process of healing. Summing it up, he says that prayer is necessary, “but it is also necessary that God agree to it. These cures are not the result of accident but of an all-powerful Will which hears this prayer and Whom nothing resists, neither sickness-nor death.”

Nihil Obstat : W. M. Collins Censor Diocesan

Imprimatur :

@ D. Mannix

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis 17th May, 1958

********

A Saint of The Stage Eve Lavalliere

BY CHARLOTTE KELLY

INDEX

“Many sins are forgiven her because she hath loved much.”

CHRIST “S WORDS of Mary Magdalen might fittingly be applied to that penitent of the twentieth century, Eve Lavalliere. A great sinner and a great saint. Surely, we might describe the brilliant French actress who, for the love of God and to atone for her sins, voluntarily embraced a life of poverty and hardship, of terrible sufferings cheerfully endured and, hardest of all, of long periods of spiritual darkness and desolation. She risked her salvation for the applause of the world; but when God sent her the grace she unhesitatingly sacrificed that world and sought henceforth only to do His will. Poverty and wealth, obscurity and fame, worldly ambition and absolute detachment from the world; these are some of the striking contrasts which we find in Eve’s life-a life begun in tragedy was to end in a great peace.

Eugenie-Maria-Pascaline-Feneglio was born on Easter Sunday, 1st April, 1866, near Toulon, where her father worked in a costumier’s shop. Her childhood was overshadowed by the violent scenes that took place continually between her father and mother. The former was a passionate irascible man, subject to periodical fits of unreasoning jealousy. At such times nothing that his wife could say or do would calm his outbursts of ungoverned rage, and he would hurl insults and accusations at the unfortunate woman, while Eugenie and her brother looked on in horror and dread. When Eugenie was ten, the family moved to Perpignan, but matters did not improve. Feneglio grew steadily worse and kept his wife and children in constant state of apprehension. But Eugenie had one consolation. When things got too bad at home she could take refuge with a neighbouring family who willingly gave shelter to the terrified child. It was at this home among the boys and girls who composed the family, that the budding talent of the future actress first showed itself. Eugenie organised amateur theatricals for the young folk, with considerable success. These plays and recitations gave her the only happiness she had known up to this, for they made her forget the miseries of her home life, and she lived for the time in a wonderful world of her own. As composer, stage manager, costumier and principal actor, all in one, she was the leading spirit of these little entertainments and gained whole-hearted applause.

When she was seventeen the unhappy Feneglio menage came to an end with tragic suddenness. One day as Eugenie and her brother stood trembling with fear, unwilling witnesses of a more than usually violent”scene,” her father pulled out a revolver and fired at his wife. She fell to the ground, wounded, and Feneglio turned the weapon on his daughter, who saved her life by a swift movement to one side. Then as she stood paralysed with fright, the wretched man pointed his revolver at his own head and blew his brains out.

Screaming with terror the children fled from the house; Eugenie to summon help from a neighbour, her brother to disappear for ever.

The remembrance of that scene never wholly left Eugenie all her life, and at times of stress and trouble it came back with startling clearness.

Madame Feneglio lingered for two months and then died of her injuries, leaving her daughter to face the world, a penniless orphan. She was given a temporary home by her only relative in Perpignan, Madame Garnier, a strict puritanical woman who fiercely resented the disgrace that had fallen on the family, and determined to rule her niece with a rod of iron But the high-spirited temperamental girl with her lively disposition and love of gaiety, did not submit easily to the new conditions. Nor was she any happier in the Good Shepherd Home at Perpignan to which her aunt sent her. She rebelled against discipline of every kind and she brooded over her unhappy childhood, particularly the tragic events that had made her an orphan.

Above all she longed for freedom to see the world. Her only pleasure was the weekly walk when the girls passed through the town in long rows. Eugenie cast eager glances at the crowds, the lights, the shops filled with beautiful things. It was her only glimpse of that wonderful world from which she felt herself debarred. One day passing a shop window a picture of the great French actress, Jeanne Granier, caught her eye. Entranced, the orphan gazed upon this vision of beauty and success and although she had never heard of Jeanne Granier her picture became the symbol of all that she longed to have and to become.

Meanwhile the monotonous round of life at the Home went on, with its punishments, reprimands and restrictions, for Eugenie disregarded all rules and broke them consistently.

At last she decided that she could stand it no longer and she ran away. She arrived at her aunt’s house to find her welcome far from warm. But all Madame Garnier’s threats could not persuade her to go back to the Home. Seeing that she was obdurate, Madame subjected her to virtual imprisonment. She might not leave the house except with her aunt and then only to visit her parents” grave. Eugenie escaped one day and hurried alone to the cemetery with some vague idea of making known her miseries to her parents. She wandered disconsolately down to a stream that bordered the cemetery, and was standing at the edge of it, half-formed ideas of ending her existence running through her mind, when she was discovered by her aunt, who as a punishment kept her locked in for a month. At the end of this time Eugenie, desperate, made her escape and sought refuge with a kindly woman who kept a shop near-by. Pitying her wretched condition, the neighbour offered her a home if she would work in her millinery shop, an offer which Eugenie gladly accepted.

At last she was happy-for a while at least. She was treated kindly, she had companions of her own age and work for which she possessed a distinct flair. She soon became popular both with the girls and with the customers, for while her happy disposition endeared her to the former, her clever fingers and perfect taste made her indispensable to the latter.

It was here that she gained the name that was to become familiar to the world of the theatre in a few years time. With a Frenchwoman’s instinct for clothes, she always made the most of her modest wardrobe, and she came into the.shop one day with her dark frock adorned with a broad white necktie, known in the trade as a”Lavalliere” after the famous duchess of that name.

“Oh-ho! La voila, Lavalliere,” cried one of her companions, and the nickname given in an idle moment, stuck to her. Even the customers soon knew Lavalliere by no other name.”Send me Lavalliere! She is a bright child and knows what one wants.”

The girl herself was delighted with her new name. Feneglio, with all its gloomy associations was no more. Lavalliere had taken its place. But she was too ambitious to remain a milliner’s apprentice in a provincial town all her life. The advertisement of a travelling theatrical show awakened her old love for the theatre, and she decided to try her luck on the stage. Dreading to hurt her kindly employer, she arranged to leave in her absence, but chance brought the milliner back in time to intercept the runaway.

Knowing the girl’s restless temperament, she wisely refrained from attempting to dissuade her, but finding that her plans were of the vaguest, suggested that she should go to her uncle who lived at Nice. Lavalliere, impatient to be off, agreed, and it was arranged that her uncle should be informed of her coming. Once on her journey, however, she availed herself of her newly acquired freedom to get off the train at Montpelier and to spend a few days there on her own.

Then, her money exhausted and her spirit of independence satisfied, she resumed her journey to Nice. But she was three days overdue and her uncle, glad perhaps of the excuse to rid himself of an unwanted burden, met her at the door with harsh words.

“You can go where you like,” he said; “but I don’t want to have anything more to do with you!”

The door was shut in her face and Lavalliere was left without a penny to fend for herself.

What was she to do? Where was she to go? Hours passed and weary of walking the streets the girl sat down on a roadside bench and abandoned herself to her distress. A passer-by stopped to enquire the cause of her weeping and listened to her eagerly-given confidence with suspicious readiness.

“I tell you what,” he said at last, “I am leaving tonight for Paris and there’s a free place for you if you care to share my company.”

To go to Paris! Never had she hoped for such a chance! Joyfully she accepted and set off on the long journey, marvelling at her good luck and at the kindness of the stranger. Her disillusionment on the latter point was speedy and complete; but her confidence in herself and in the future was unabated. She was going to Paris-to be a star!

Eve Lavalliere, as she now called herself, was not many days in Paris before she realized the difficulties that lay before her. She could earn her living, singing and dancing in the cafes of Montmartre, it was true, like hundreds of other girls, but she wanted more than that. She wanted to go on the stage; to be a great success; to have the theatrical world of Paris at her feet; to get to the top. If she could only get a start!

Walking slowly along the rue Paridis one day, her eye was caught by a notice that said: “Elocution, Singing, Dancing.” Plucking up her courage she went in and confided her ambitions to old Père Duraulens who gave lessons in these subjects. The latter was not encouraging. He had heard stories like her’s many times, for to go on the stage was a common ambition with young and pretty girls. He explained to her how difficult it was to gain even moderate success. She would have to work hard, very hard and be prepared for failure and disappointment. . . . Eve listened, unmoved. Her faith in her ability to become a star was unshaken, and she did not mind how hard she worked.

At last the old man said grudgingly :”Very well, I”11 try your voice.” The result astonished him. Lavalliere sang with a vivacity and lilt that promised well for the variety stage. Her voice was not the voice of a prima donna; but it had a spirit and feeling that convinced Duraulens that she had at least a chance of success. He was confirmed in his opinion after a few weeks” lessons, and announced in triumph one day that he had obtained an audition for her with the Director of the Varietes, Eugene Bertrand.

Lavalliere’s heart beat fast as in obedience to the Director she stepped upon the stage of the theatre for the first time and began to sing. She had hardly finished her first verse when the voice of the Director boomed out from the empty stalls:”That will do. Turn out the lights.” The girl went white. It was finished. She had failed. She had not even been allowed to conclude her song. Then Bertrand spoke again: “Well, don’t stand” there looking like a death’s head! I merely said it will do.” While Lavalliere gazed at him in bewilderment he turned to Duraulens and added brusquely “Mademoiselle Lavalliere will start next week at 80 francs a month.”

She was engaged! She was on the stage-in Paris! Lavalliere’s joy was intense and it was shared by her master who exclaimed with eyes full of tears:”Oh, I knew it, I knew it! There’s good stuff in you. You’ll make a name all right! And I knew I couldn’t be the only one to see it!”

Eve’s part was a very modest one, in the chorus of La Belle Helene, but to the ambitious girl it was the first rung of the ladder, that was to lead her to fame. A few weeks after her engagement she had a stroke of luck. One of the principals of the play fell ill and Lavalliere was called upon to take her part at a few hours” notice. It was the chance she was waiting for! The result justified Bertrand’s choice. She made a success of the role and her salary was promptly raised to 300 francs a month. As she sat in her dressing-room, trembling with excitement and waiting for her call the first night, the door opened and Jeanne Granier came in. It was a gracious act on the part of the star of the Varietes, and her words of encouragement helped Lavalliere to take her cue with the assured conviction that she would be a success.

Shortly afterwards, however, Bertrand left the Varietes and his successor, Fernand Samuel took no notice of the promoted chorus-girl. . Eve gradually slipped into the background. For ten long years from 1891 to 1901 she played only minor parts that gave her no scope for her talents. Her ambitious spirit chafed under this neglect. Duraulens urged her to have patience; but that was a quality for which Lavalliere had very little use and she raged at her obscurity.

She was not so unnoticed as she imagined, however, and in 1901 Lucien Guitry, looking for an actress to play a prominent part in his new production La Veine selected Eve. Playing with Jeanne Granier, the comparatively unknown Lavalliere”stole” the piece and established herself permanently in the hearts of the Parisian public.

The story of Eve Lavalliere for the next sixteen years is one of repeated triumphs. She went from success to success. She was the acknowledged queen of the light-comedy stage and all Paris was at her feet. Her greatest achievement was, perhaps her playing of the heroine in Le Roi, a skit on parliamentary democracy which had a sensational”First Night” on the 24th April, 1908. So brilliant was her interpretation that Sarah Bernhardt, sparing as a rule of her compliments, was one of the foremost to pay her tribute after the performance. The great tragic actress was outspoken in her admiration. “What wonderful gifts you have!” she exclaimed.”I have seen a fair number of actors in my time, but never anyone in the least like you! . . . What you have cannot be learnt. It must be inborn. Those repartees of yours which suddenly flash out when you are on the stage are more like genius . . . You have something of the genius in you, since you create . . That’s fine, very fine!”

It was just this creative gift which .was sometimes very disconcerting to the actors who played with Lavalliere, for it led her to indulge in brilliant extemporisations which confused her colleagues and were hardly complimentary to the author. But she persisted in”gagging” in spite of all remonstrances, and since her sparkling improvisations invariably assured the success of the piece, there was nothing to be said.

Her most ambitious dreams were now realities. She had fame and wealth and the power that comes with the possession of both. Managers of other theatres clamoured for her services. As a comedienne she was unique, for she had gaiety, freshness, vitality, and intense feeling, combined with a tenderness both appealing and naive. She never”acted,” she lived her parts, hence the perfect naturalness of her interpretations. Her admirers were not only those belonging to the theatrical world. Her reputation for wit and her gift of repartee made her popular with writers, politicians, and cultured people of all kinds. She was sought after by the greatest in the land; royalty asked to be introduced to her and she received them as equals and refused to be patronised. She had her full share of”temperament,” and many stories are told of her capriciousness. The following is a well-known example.

The King of Spain, Alfonso XIII, arrived at the Varietes where she was playing in Le Roi when the curtain had already gone up. Lavalliere was on the stage and the King’s arrival caused a momentary distraction to the audience. One of the actress’s best lines went unapplauded and the favourite’s vanity was piqued. She vowed that she would revenge- herself upon the roya1 culprit and to show her displeasure refused to receive him during the interval. When she appeared again on the stage, she was radiant. She had defied a king! But her ill-temper was short-lived and meeting the king in a restaurant shortly afterwards in Biarritz she seized the opportunity to make amends. Alfonso XIII had risen from his seat to bow to her and when the meal was over she went to sit at his table. Seeing his ill-concealed surprise at the newly-acquired jetblack tint of her hair, Lavalliere said prettily:”I knew that you would be here tonight, Your Majesty, so I had my hair dressed like a Spaniard’s!”

Another kindly admirer of her’s was Edward VII, who was passing through Paris about this time, and who announced his intention of going to see the star in Le Roi. It happened that she was ill that day and did not intend to play that night. When asked by telephone if she could make a special effort in honour of the distinguished visitor to appear, she replied that it was impossible; but that if His Majesty could wait until the following night she would do her utmost not to disappoint him. The King graciously consented to postpone his departure and Lavalliere rose from her sick-bed to play her part. The next day she was obliged to leave Paris for a rest-cure.

Her popularity increased rather than waned with the years. Her wealth was enormous, both from her theatrical earnings and from her friends and admirers: She had a sumptuous flat in the Champs Elysees, decorated and furnished in the latest fashion which included concealed lighting-then practically unknown, and a room furnished in polished ebony with purple hangings. Eve hated the room and privately thought it hideous; but it was good publicity so it had to remain. To get away from it, she took another flat in Auteuil and spent most of her time there. Her days were crowded now with social functions in addition to her work at the theatre, for she was always in request and no fete was complete without her.

Yet behind all the glamour and glitter that surrounded her, Eve’s private life was not a happy one. She had long given up the practice of her religion which would have accorded ill with her manner of living, and she led a brilliant, restless existence that brought her no real satisfaction. She had no home nor any knowledge of the happiness of home-life. Fernand Samuel of the Varietes, who had passed in common estimation for her husband had left his chateau in the Vosges to their only child. Lavalliere was alone in a world that applauded the great artist, but knew and cared nothing for the woman. Yet she had not forgotten the religion that she had deserted. In 1911 she had a serious operation and spent some weeks in a nursing-home conducted by the Sisters of S. Saviour. The ten days that followed the operation was the first period of peace and calm she had known for many years. Her courage and patience edified the Sister in charge of her, to whom she spoke of the life she was leading and of which she repented. But after that ten days, her door was opened to visitors and the world claimed her once more. Her repentance if genuine was shortlived, and after a period of convalescence at the fashionable watering-place of Evian she resumed her old life. Yet her disillusionment was increasing with every year. She had tasted all that the world could offer her: fame, wealth, excitement, admiration; all her dreams had come true. And she saw the emptiness, the hollowness of worldly success.”Even when I was at the height of my success,” she said years later, “I used to leave the stage victim to sadness I cannot describe.” And again: “A voice seemed to follow me everywhere saying:”Eve, you weren’t made for this sort of thing,” and sometimes I despaired even to the point of wanting to commit suicide.”

Except for a short visit to London in 1916, where she played in aid of war charities, Eve spent the first three years of the war in Paris. But the strain of extra charity performances to which she gave her services generously, in addition to her usual work and the difficulties of living in war-time Paris, was too much for her and brought her in May, 1917 to to the verge of breakdown. She had just signed a contract with Lucien Guitry to tour the States in the coming winter, and it was essential that she should take a complete rest away from the city. She decided to look for a chateau in Touraine, and with that object left Paris accompanied only by her maid and companion, Leona Delbecq, a young Belgian refugee.

That journey to Touraine was the turning point in Lavalliere’s career. When she left Paris she left more than her luxurious flat and her wealthy friends; she left her profession, her old life, her old self, everything that in the estimation of her world made life worth living. And in return she found God.

On making enquiries at Tours where she took rooms at the Hotel de 1”Univers, Eve was told that the Chateau of La Porcherie, some miles from Tours, was to let. The management of the property was in the hands of the parish priest of Chanceaux-sur-Choiselle, a neighbouring village. Lavalliere, in her impatience to conclude the matter drove out at once to inspect the Chateau and interview M. Chasteigner the Curé. The property proved all that could be desired and in a few days” time the actress and her household were installed.

The day after her arrival was a Sunday and in the afternoon M. Chasteigner decided to pay a visit to his new tenant. He found her in the byre seated on a three-legged stool, watching with a town-dweller’s interest the cows being milked.

Reluctantly leaving the novel spectacle, she enthused over the perfections of country life to the Curé as they strolled up and down the farmyard. M. le Curé listened smiling, for awhile; then he said quietly:”By the way, Mademoiselle, I did not see you at Mass this morning.

Lavalliere was startled. It was a long time since anyone had challenged her so directly.

“Well, M. le Curé, she said at last,”I didn’t like to come without your permission; after all, you know who I am- Lavalliere of the Varietes. Still, if you’ve no objection . . .”

Now, the Curé knew too much of the world to be surprised at her absence; but she was one of his parishioners now and he would treat her as such. So he replied:”Objection? Why should I object? The church is open to everyone. Anyway I shall continue to expect you.”

Lavalliere smiled and no more was said. But the following Sunday she was at Mass, kneeling in the midst of the peasant folk. M. Chasteigner preached of great penitents, beginning with Magdalen and continuing the series each succeeding Sunday. One day, Lavalliere, who was now on very friendly terms with him, ventured to say:”There is one thing you forgot to put in your sermon.”

“Quite possibly. What is it?”

“My name at the end; because it was certainly for my special benefit that you were preaching.”

The grace of God was beginning to work in Lavalliere’s soul. Aided by the Sunday Mass and also by the thoughtcompelling quiet of the country, she began to take stock of her life and to realize the futility of it. For the first time sh e spoke to Leona about religion and was genuinely shocked to hear that she had not made her First Holy Communion.

“Not made your First Communion? Oh, but you must put that right. . . . I made mine at Perpignan, and I shall never forget what a happy day it was, the only really happy day of my life . . . of course, making your First Communion is a serious matter. I suppose you really do want to make it?”

“Yes, if it’s not too late.”

“Very well, I shall see the Curé about it tomorrow.”

The following day Eve Approached M. Chasteigner.”M. le Curé, Leona here has not made her First Communion. Could she make it now?”

“Why not?” the Cure replied. “Of course, I must instruct her first.”

“And . . . may I . . . go with her?”

“Well . . . after all, your case is rather different, isn’t it? I”d have to get the Archbishop’s permission first. But in any case there is nothing to stop your attending the instructions with Leona.”

So for the next few days, the famous star of the Varietes and the young Belgian refugee came almost daily to M. le Cure and listened to his instructions with deep attention and humility.

On one occasion they had been talking about the supernatural and Eve declared that she had sometimes taken part in spiritist practices. M. Chasteigner smiled.”Ah, so you do believe in the devil,” he said. “Well, all I can say is, be careful. You may end by finding yourself in direct contact with him.”

His words impressed Lavalliere and she said to Leona later:”M. le Cure may very well be right, because if there’s a devil, there’s a God.” And how had she treated that God all her life? She thought long and seriously that night, and it was a quieter and more subdued Lavalliere who attended the next Catechism class. M. Chasteigner noted her changed demeanour and gave her Lacordaire’s Sainte Maria Madeleine which she read with tears.

Her changed outlook showed itself in her general attitude, to the alarm of her servants who had copied their mistress in neglect of all religious practices. But they dismissed it as “another crazy fad of hers. She’ll get over it.” But Eve did not “get over it.” On the contrary her sorrow for her past life and her desire to do penance for it, increased every day. At last to her joy M. Chasteigner received an answer to his request for permission to receive her back to the Sacraments.”I give you all the permission you need,” wrote the Vicar-General, “you have begun far too good a work to leave it now unfinished.”

The Curé arranged that Eve and Leona should make their Communion together on Sunday, 19th June. With intense fervour Eve prepared for the great event and confessed her sins with humility and sorrow. She received Holy Communion on the appointed day with tears of joy. It was truly a new life that had begun; henceforth she counted her age from that day. Her years of triumph and success in Paris were forgotten. Eve had never been lukewarm nor hesitant in her desires, and now she let nothing stand in the way of her union with God.

To get daily Mass entailed a walk of six and sometimes ten kilometres over rough cobbled roads; but the woman who had come to Touraine in a luxurious limousine, walked to hear Mass and receive Holy Communion several times a week for the rest of the time that she was at the Chateau.

And her future? She had to come to some decision about that.”And now,” she said one day to M. Chasteigner, “what are you going to do with me?”

“Do with you? But you’re going back to the theatre, aren’t you?”

“Oh, no. I have done with all that.”

“But why? You can be a good Christian and a good actress at the same time.”

“No, no! You don’t understand. Now that I know what it is to live I can’t possibly go back to that existence.” And that sentence summed up as nothing else could the depth and sincerity of Eve’s conversion.

The Curé looked dubious. He was distrustful of a decision taken so quickly, but Eve continued:”I know what you think but let me tell you this: You know that I”m supposed to be studying a play here. Well, I haven’t looked at a word of it since the day of my Communion, and I don’t intend to.”

To further convince him she wrote at once to cancel all her theatrical engagements, offering to pay the necessary compensation; but making it quite clear that her decision was irrevocable.

The fashionable world of Paris was thunder-struck. Furthermore, it was bewildered and refused to take Lavalliere’s plain statement as the truth. The wildest of rumours circulated in the Press as the reasons for her retirement. She had been disappointed in love, she had been disfigured by an experiment in beauty treatment, she had made use of her friendship with a German diplomat to indulge in espionage and was now in prison. There were the inevitable wiseacres who smiled knowingly and spoke of”publicity.” Lavalliere had a genius for publicity. This was simply a “stunt” to attract public attention and ensure a sensation with a dramatic return to the stage.

The real reason was simply ignored. It was too fantastic. After all, Lavalliere was . . Lavalliere! It was not to be believed.

Meanwhile, the cause of all this excitement was leading a quiet life at La Porcherie, leaving her letters unanswered, and refusing to open her door except to a few privileged visitors. Her career as an actress was finished, forgotten. All that concerned her now was how she might best use the future for the glory of God and the salvation of her soul. Eve’s conversion was very thorough. The strong will and ardent spirit that had brought her worldly success was now directed entirely to union with God. But her piety was also practical. Remembering her own unhappy childhood, she thought of opening and directing a refuge for waifs and strays. But upon reflection, she realized that she had neither the disposition nor the experience necessary for such an undertaking, and she decided to wait a little before coming to any definite decision.

Her days were passed in prayer and self-sacrifice and in works of charity. Her love of the poor and her good heart led her to an impulsive if high-handed action that showed that her conversion had not destroyed her sense of humour. A certain Ambassador who had been one of her greatest and most generous admirers wrote begging for an interview. He received the following reply :”Reception impossible. Send cheque 10,000 at once.” Delighted to hear that the star was at least alive and free, he dispatched the money which Lavalliere promptly distributed in charity. She seems to have repaid him with her prayers for after her death he made a pilgrimage to the house at Thuillieres where she spent her last days and returned subsequently to the practice of his religion.

But the desire to leave the world grew ever strong in Eve’s mind and she determined to enter the Carmel. Nothing but the most complete sacrifice of herself would content her, and she burned for mortifications and penetential exercises that would expiate her sinful past. She begged M. Chasteigner to act on her behalf; but the Curé warned her that her health would never stand the rigours of life in Carmel and advised her to wait for a while.

While she was thus undecided what to do she got a letter from her daughter Jeanne Samuel, asking her to come and stay with her at the Chateau in the Vosges. Hoping that she might do some good there, Eve departed with Leona for the Vosges. But her sufferings at the irregularities of Jeanne’s household were extreme. Her daughter’s manner of living was a bitter sorrow to Lavalliere for the rest of her life, and only the desire of converting her made Eve stay on now in the Chateau. The atmosphere of luxury and wellbeing that surrounded her might well have caused her to relax a little her life of prayer and penance, but it only roused her to greater efforts. She and Leona spent many hours in the church beside the Chateau, praying for the unhappy household.

It was at this time that, referring to her daughter’s life, she wrote to M. Chasteigner:”The world which gives its approval is made up of beings who do not know God, who live solely for the life of this earth, and think neither of their souls, nor of death, nor of hereafter: It’s a world which accomodates itself to everything and doesn’t care. I can’t do it; my whole being revolts at the idea, and if I remain joyful and calm, the reason is that God has changed my soul, has destined it for Himself, and wants to show me, before I definitely go to Him, the emptiness of everything else. I feel lonelier here than anywhere else. I am Earth’s eternal orphan (1 ‘eternelle orpheline de la terre): all my life I have sought in vain for my heart’s nourishment, that nourishment of tenderness and affection, to which my heart has always aspired and yet never attained. My heart was being starved to death, for all that it was given was truffles and champagne, and it needed plain healthy food.”

Eve did not confine herself to devout sentiments. She and Leona went in pilgrimage to two distant shrines, rising on each occasion at four o‘clock in order to arrive in time to hear Mass and receive Holy Communion. The second time they did not arrive until 11 o‘clock, but they travelled fasting and went to Holy Communion. Eve’s prayers were offered continually for her daughter’s conversion, of which for a time she had great hopes. But at last she could no longer persuade herself that Jeanne showed any signs of real repentance, and sorrowfully she returned to Touraine. The idea of entering Carmel never left her, but as the obstacles were many, and as she neither desired nor could afford to remain the mistress of a large country house, she decided to go to Lourdes where she might pursue her life of prayer and penance.

One thing remained to be done before she could make the break with the past complete. She was obliged to return to Paris, to dispose of her costly flat fitted with all that money and taste could procure. But she did not linger; beauty and luxury meant nothing to her now, and she instructed her notary to sell everything that belonged to her. Furniture, pictures, ornaments, even her jewels and furs were sold at much less than their value since it was known that she was in a hurry to get rid of them.

The news of her presence in Paris and of her drastic disposal of her possessions started a fresh campaign of speculation in the less reputable newspapers.”I have had a lot to suffer here at the hands of the third-class Newspapers; there are some abominable things,” she writes to her Father-in-God, as she calls M. Chasteigner .”I don’t mind, however, for with God’s good help I bore everything bravely. But even with these mud-slingings, as silly as they were cowardly, there has been much room for satisfaction. People are so full of admiration that I am confused and disturbed by it. I am leaving without a regret without a turning of the head. I am leaving with a heart full of a sense of duty, and with a very real support from Above, and that is a joy which no one can understand, and which no one can take from me.”

That the change in Eve was not confined to her spiritual life but showed itself also in externals, is fully illustrated by. the following incident.

A certain amount of theatrical business had to be gone through, and one day Eve was obliged to visit a theatrical agency. She was not recognised by the staff, who a few months .earlier would have been thrilled by a visit from the great Lavalliere. She was told that the director was out and she sat down meekly, on a bench to wait for him. The director arriving a few minutes later saw a simply-dressed woman whose face, innocent of make-up, was half hidden by a shabby hat. Taking her for a suppliant of some kind-she could hardly be an actress in those clothes-he asked abruptly:”What do you want, Madame? What are you doing here?

Lavalliere lifted her eyes, those dark unforgettable eyes, and the director gasped.”Lavalliere!” he exclaimed. “Is it possible?”

“Yes,” she replied, “it’s Lavalliere;” and in a tone that brought tears to his eyes, she added simply: “I have never been so happy as since that day when God called me.”

Within a few days Eve had started for Lourdes. Lavalliere of the Varietes was dead.

Eve stayed at Lourdes until January, living first at the Villa Bethane and later at the Convent of the Sisters of the Immaculate Conception. The story of those three months is best told in her own words. Her sensitive soul did not fail to respond to the spiritual atmosphere of Lourdes.”I am living in such an atmosphere of piety and faith that my own faith. and piety increases with every hour of every day,” she writes to “M. Chasteigner soon after her arrival.

Her longing to enter Carmel intensified.”I desire it more than ever and I really believe that it is there that God wants me . . . My place is not at St. Baslemont (Jeanne’s home). In living that sort of family life with Jeanne and her friend, I am myself living in sin and these young people cannot help but believe that they are doing no harm since I, her mother, live on friendly terms with them . . . I do not know what will become of me; I am in God’s hands and have confidence in Him . . .

But her efforts to enter the Carmelites were frustrated at every turn. The Carmel of Lourdes, Lisieux, Avignon, were besieged in vain. Then the Mother Superior of the Immaculate Conception convent was approached but her reply was that Eve must wait until the Superior could go to Rome to put the matter verbally before her council.

Eve did not give up hope, and in the confident hope that she would become a religious she prepared herself by leading a life of absolute simplicity and conventual regularity. Her food was of the plainest quality, and the fruit which had become a necessity to her, is a subject for apology.”It is. simply and solely for our health that I allow myself this expense,” she writes to M. Chasteigner asking him to order some cooking prunes to be sent to her from Tours since those at Lourdes are much inferior and “horribly dear.”

As with food, so with clothes:”We’ve bought some big flat-heeled slippers, a very rustic sort of footwear, which if it doesn’t favour the foot, makes up for it by being solid, practical and warm.” Thus writes the woman who, six months previously, could not find anything in Paris good enough for her. She had been the first to set the fashion for bobbed hair: now she was letting her hair grow, heedless of the unbecoming effect. When a front tooth fell out she refused to have the gap filled, suffering the disfigurement as a punishment for her former vanity.

Her life would have been hard for anyone; for the pampered luxury-loving variety star, it was positively heroic.

“Rise at a quarter to six. At half-past six after a wash in cold water, we go down to the little chapel to make our meditation. Mass at seven and Holy Communion every day.

Breakfast at eight. Then Leona does our two rooms while I myself knit or read a little. Then I go for my hour of adoration from nine to ten and Leona from ten to eleven. Then we go to the Grotto to say a decade of the Rosary; I bathe my eyes, we drink a little water, and we climb back home; there’s one’s mending to do and then it’s the Angelus and lunch time. The afternoon varies: sometimes we visit an old lady who is a lodger here for the end of her days; sometimes we go to gather wood or to do our errands. Then we sew, knit, read until five, time for Benediction. After the ceremony, Mademoiselle Caplat gives us an hour’s catechism, explained as to children-which is what we are. At half-past six, I say my evening prayers. which are fairly long, because I add lots of things to them; then comes the Angelus and dinner. We go upstairs to bed, say a few more prayers-and that’s that.”

It was a drastic change for one whose days had been passed in an atmosphere of excitement and admiration, amidst luxurious surroundings, and it was inevitable that Eve should suffer. She suffered cruelly and to mental anguish was added physical hardship. “It is very cold, snowing, the climate is severe, my hands are swollen and I am perpetually frozen,” .she writes. “We drink nothing but ice water, and I”m afraid we may not be able to hold out against such cold. Three days ago, I fell victim to a real moral depression and was seized with despair, so cold did I feel in my room at six o‘clock in the morning, with the draught coming through the badly fitting door, as well as through the window, where the cambric curtains were floating out like a flag.

“At the thought of having to live and suffer like that all my life, I grew discouraged; however, I pulled myself together and it’s all over and here I am, getting along as well as ever. A good point, worthy of note, is that the idea of resuming my former life never even came into my head. Oh, no! The past is more hateful to me every day; and whatever my present physical or moral sufferings may be, I love them and would prefer to die rather than fall back again into the old life.”

Christmas and New Year came and passed with their memories of happy reunions and merrymaking in cheerful surroundings. It was a hard tie for Eve.”I am feeling very melancholy,” she writes to her Father-in-God, M. Chasteigner. “The feast of the family and I feel so lonely. Jeanne wired to me several days ago that she was leaving Paris in response to an urgent business call, and I have had no further news since: I don’t know even where she is. We had planned to celebrate Christmas together and we are separated to such a degree that if something happened to me, I wouldn’t even know how to give her warning. All, that is making me sad as you can imagine!”

Just at this time, renewed endeavours on the part of the theatrical world to discover her whereabouts, caused her further anxiety.”I don’t want letters,” she wrote to M. Chasteigner, “I don’t want anything at all except to be shut up in Carmel as soon as possible. . . . If it’s not God’s plan to have me in Carmel, I shall resign myself, I shall do what He wills. I am on earth henceforth only to obey, the rest does not matter.”

But mental worry combined with the unceasing austerities she practised proved too much for Eve’s delicate constitution, and she contracted a severe chill which kept her in bed ten days and then left her in a state of unutterable depression and weariness. She was badly in need of a change, but the poor cannot afford to take holidays, so for a while she struggled on. But at last she wrote to her Father-in-God a letter of great desolation of spirit, in the course of which she says “One doesn’t pass suddenly from so active a life as was mine, to this sort of existence without suffering considerably by it. If I were in a convent, I should have a rule to follow, a fixed round of toil, the boredom would be impossible for me. Whereas, living like this, without moral support, without distractions, continually shut in with my thoughts and scruples, is giving me cerebral anaemia, and at times I find the service of God too wearisome. Books frighten me, for never, never shall I arrive at perfection. Everything frightens me, especially myself. I love God, I ask Him to make me die rather than offend Him wilfully: so you see how things are!”“

She begged M. Chasteigner to look out for a little house and garden where she and Leona might housekeep for themselves, do a little good round about, and have the great advantage of the spiritual guidance of M. Chasteigner. She had not given up the hope and desire of entering Carmel for she adds:”Until God’s will for Carmel be made manifest.”

M. Chasteigner willingly consented; for it was obvious that for one of Eve’s temperament, the life that she was leading was unsuitable.

Shortly after this, Eve was summoned to Paris on business and gladly obeyed, hoping to get into touch with her daughter. But on her arrival in Paris, Jeanne calmly refused to come up to meet her and to make matters worse, Leona fell ill and was ordered to hospital for ten days. Eve was distracted. She felt”like a poor lost dog” in Paris, but she couldn’t desert Leona and was obliged to remain. It was at this time that by chance she met two of her former associates, both now at the top of their profession, Sacha Guitry and Yvonne Printemps. They hailed her with delight, taking it for granted that her presence in the city meant her return to the stage.

“Ah, so the big joke is over, is it? Are you coming back to the stage? We were just about to go to Lourdes to fetch you. You see, we’re off to America and it has got to be a parade of stars.”

Eve shook her head.”May you have the same success as I-the grace of God!” she said, and Yvonne Printemps broke down and wept.

The middle of April found Eve and Leona at St. Baslemont. The Curé had not succeeded in finding them a home in Touraine, and the winter at Lourdes was too severe. So as an alternative to an hotel they went to St. Baslemont. There Eve had always the hope that she might obtain the conversion of her daughter. She availed of a Confirmation at Vittel to have herself and Leona confirmed during their stay at the Chateau; but otherwise it was a time of great distress to Eve, both on account of her daughter’s attitude which alternated between repentance and obduracy and on account of her own unsettled future.

She wanted to do God’s will, if she knew what it was. She had given herself entirely to God to do what He wanted, but He didn’t seem to want anything. Eve’s ardent impatient nature suffered intensely at this trial. Once again she thought of Touraine and once again M. Chasteigner tried and failed to find a suitable house. In August, 1918, St. Baslemont became impossible, and because she could think of no other place where she would feel at home, Eve returned to Lourdes. This time she took a small apartment and at once the peaceful atmosphere of Lourdes had its effect on her troubled spirit.

The hard winter of the Pyrenees passed slowly by. Just before Christmas, Eve and Leona moved to some rooms close to the Orphelinat Bernadette where they were able to get daily Mass and Holy Communion without difficulty. Eve’s happiest hours were spent before the Blessed Sacrament in the little chapel of the Orphelinat.”I have adored creatures and they have adored me,” she said one day to the Superioress.”And to think that this Jesus whom I have never seen is the One whom I love above all things.”

It was a few months later that on the eve of leaving for the seaside (she and Leona had both been ill) she met Mgr. Lemaitre, Archbishop of Carthage. That meeting was destined to influence the rest of her life.”God, who watched with a mother’s love over His miserable creatures, put us on the path of Mgr. Lemaitre, Bishop of the Soudan,” she wrote to M. Chasteigner. “He was leaving Lourdes himself the next day; but it was God’s will that this meeting should take place- and it did take place. His Lordship gave me an appointment for the following morning, and after two hours” conversation undertook the direction of our souls. Magnificat!

The first result of this was an invitation from Mgr. Lemaitre to attend a retreat which he was to give to the Little Sisters of the Poor at Marseilles. Eve undertook the long journey joyfully and made it in the spirit of poverty, travelling third class and sitting eighteen hours on a wooden bench in a train packed with soldiers. She was a long way from the old days when, as she once told someone:”I didn’t even know how to get myself a railway ticket; there was always a reserved compartment waiting for me, all decked out in flowers. .” Now she bore the weary journey uncomplainingly and her patience was rewarded.

We see Mgr. Lemaitre almost every day,” she writes. “He got us to make our general confession again and . . . our destiny is in his hands.”

Eve had hoped that the Bishop would allow her to enter the Missionary Order as a White Sister but she was disappointed. She fell ill again, and this time the doctor’s verdict closed to her for ever all prospects of an active life.”My grief came near to choking me,” she wrote, “but now I have begun to realize that all is good and beautiful in this gift of Jesus, and it is with calmness, confidence, love and gratitude that I accept His decree.”

“We are at Marseilles for the moment,” she wrote later, “but we are going to move on again in search of a corner in the sun, for the doctor wants me to have it. But it’s very difficult to find the sun, the house and the church together.

The Superior of the White Sisters here, said yesterday that I was doing my Purgatory valise in hand, and it’s true. Still I abandon myself entirely to God. I have confidence in Him and nothing else matters.”

It was a long road that Eve was travelling: Chanceaux, Lourdes, St. Baslemont, Guethary, where she spent the third winter of her conversion and, finally, Thuilieres. It was at this little village in the Vosges that she eventually bought a tiny property.

Mgr. Lemaitre, who was still her spiritual director had strongly advised her against entering any convent; but he had no definite plans for her, and after one last unsuccessful attempt to enter Carmel, Eve realized that she must settle down somewhere”and devote herself to the one vocation which God had vouchsafed her-that of doing His will, with love at least, if not always with understanding.” (McReavy.)

In August she hears from Mgr. Lemaitre.”His Lordship doesn’t want to hear anything more of the convent. It is my health which has made him take this sudden decision? Perhaps it is “the Light” which has enlightened him-Jesus, in His sublime Love, deigns to grant me who am but defilement, incomparable graces of Light and Love. My dear, kind M. le Curé, I should need all my life, my days, my nights, to be able to give you a full glimpse of all that. I am the vilest of wretches, the most defiled, a veritable sewer, and Jesus surrounds me with His protection, in a word, loves me, and I feel His love; It is almost palpable! Here, then, you see God in all His infinite Mercy!”

On 15th September, 1920, Eve took possession of her home at Thuillieres. It was a small house with a kitchen-garden and a little orchard, just sufficient for their needs. She had the house painted white and the windows curtained in blue in honour of Our Lady Immaculate and she called it Bethany. Shortly after her arrival she was received into the Third Order of St. Francis, and began her religious life with a novitiate of seclusion, prayer and patience under hardship.

Life in the small house at Thuillieres was uneventful in the extreme. A visit from Mgr. Lemaitre is an event which Eve describes to M. Chasteigner in a letter adding:”Apart from that, there is nothing new. I struggle as usual to reach a little nearer to perfection and find the same difficulty in attaining it; but all my being, all my will-power, are strained to this one and only end. To love, to love this God who loves us so much despite all our miseries, past and present.”

At Christmas she writes:”Nothing new here, always the same little existence of complete abandonment to Jesus and His holy Mother. My health is not startling-it might be worse. Pray hard for us, dear M. le Curé, that God may help us, for there’s a lot to be done, if I am to tame this horrible nature of mine!”

Their peaceful routine of work and prayer was suddenly broken by a letter from Mgr. Lemaitre. Eve had accepted unhesitatingly his decision in regard to entering a convent; now he was to help her to realize to some degree at least, her ardent desire to take an active part in the service of God.

Mgr. Lemaitre had organized an institute of nurses at Tunis, who as members of the Association of Charles de Foucauld, went into the Arab villages and tended the sick and the children, evangelising them less by preaching than by the example of their Christian charity.

It was to join this Association that the Bishop summoned Eve and Leona, a summons which they joyfully obeyed.

They sailed at once for North Africa and began their apostolate at Zaghouan, some forty miles from Tunis. They passed from one wretched village to another, nursing the sick and treating them for the terrible diseases of the eyes from which so many of the desert-dwellers suffered. But Eve’s delicate health could not withstand the hardships of the life and she contracted an African fever.

She was carried back to Tunis, where she lay for many months seriously ill. Yet her spirit never faltered.”Our sweet Jesus will manifest His will when He pleases,” she writes to a friend. “His poor sheep is waiting and with His grace will obey Him, whatever He may demand.” Speaking of her sufferings, moral and physical, she says. Of course I cry, I weep, I complain, I moan, but my will is willing to accept all that the will of my Jesus will; human nature is a vile hog (mine, I mean); it squeals like pigs do, before anything is done for them. The cowardice of the beast is a humiliating thing to admit, but I have to admit it. Then my will towers over it and says:”Expire if you will, but obey.””

When she was able to travel she returned to Thuillieres to convalesce. Three times in the next few years she made that journey to North Africa, working each time until her exhausted body got the better of her zealous spirit and she collapsed. Her last effort was made in the autumn of 1924, and before the end of the year she was back in France—this time for good. Her health had broken down irreparably, and she came back to Thuillieres with a peaceful heart to prepare for death.

The last five years of Eve’s life which were passed unintertuptedly at Thuillieres were years of great suffering, patiently, even joyously endured, complete detachment from the things of this world and an ever-increasing love of God. Her life was made up of prayer and sacrifice. She abandoned herself entirely to God’s will.”What does it matter where I am? What does it matter whether I live or die? Let Him reign alone, everything lies in that! To want, to do, to love nothing but His will . . . I want to die to the world and to myself in order that Jesus may reign alone in me.”

Her tiny income she devoted almost exclusively to charity, retaining only the minimum sum essential for existence, as extracts from an old account book show. In one month 6,070 francs were given in charity, while for the same period her household expenses amount to no more than 392 francs. She grudged every penny that she spent on herself but in her alms she was prodigal.”Her charitable donations,” says the parish priest of Thuillieres, “both to pious causes and to the relief of moral and physical sufferings, were remarkable; she simply didn’t count what she gave.”

A description of her as she was at this period of her life is given in an article written by Robert de Flers who was one of the very few visitors admitted to her retreat at Thuillieres.

“I found, of course, a great change in her, who was in her day one of the most charming and most precious glories of the stage and for whom the stage has found no substitute. Sickness has kept her in seclusion these many long months. Her face has become pale; but her eyes, while retaining their sparkle have grown in warmth. Their gaze stretches further and higher. Her emaciated hands seem to join as of themselves. . . . Her voice, which formerly used to switch and change from tone to tone with such irresistible gaiety had grown grave. An air of indescribable sweetness had settled round this frail creature whose nerves in the old days were often strained to breaking point. She still continues to radiate life, but it is no longer the life of here below. Long did I listen to her with emotion and respect. Not a word did she utter that did not breathe genuine simplicity. In every single one there was evidence of the perfection of her interior life. She is modesty itself, simplicity itself. She knows that there is no”top-o-the-bill” in Paradise.”

That was Eve as she appeared to those around her. What her interior life was can only be guessed, but extracts from her letters and from her spiritual note-book give us some idea of the heights she had attained. She had but one desire left-to love God.”To love, whatever state or disposition I find myself placed,” she writes: “May the will of Jesus be my law, may His love be my life.”

“My God, Blessed art Thou, I love Thee with my whole soul,” she prays, “Lord God of my heart and soul, behold me. I am Yours. The flesh is weak and complains, but my soul is ready. Fiat voluntas Tua! Even did I wish to love something other than Thee, Lord, I could no longer do it. Anything that I might have loved is now only desolation, ruin, infamy.”

In the midst of her sufferings her soul knew periods of: heavenly joy, when she exclaims :”Oh, Jesus, what must Heaven be if I am to judge of those brief moments when my soul is no longer of this world, when my happiness is beyond. all description, for words are finite and my happiness is infinite. My God, I love Thee.”

Her charity has already been referred to, but Eve knew that true charity consists in more than the bestowal of material benefits.”Love, love to give and have nothing of your own,” she writes to a friend. “Give even your generous thoughts, give your sufferings, give your merits, divest yourself of everything in order to become the dearly-beloved of Jesus, in order to gain an immortal crown.

Her sufferings increased rapidly until at last she could no longer leave her bed. Yet Eve was happy, supremely happy.

“You cannot realize how happy I am,” she said to Robert de Flers.

“In spite of your sufferings?”

“Because of them.” And her last words to him were:”When people mention me to you, make it quite clear to them, all those who know me, that you have seen the happiest, indeed, the most perfectly happy of women.”

Yes, it was because of her sufferings that Eve was happy.”I am and always will be very seriously affected-failing a miracle,” she writes to M. Chasteigner two years before her death. “But I don’t ask our Lady for that, because I know the value of accepted sufferings, and that everything which happens to us has been foreseen from all eternity for the glory of God and our own greater good.”

Her eyesight had begun to fail but it troubled her little.”Open the eyes of my soul,” she prayed, “that I may contemplate Thee and love Thee, adorable Trinity, even if I must pay for it with the death of my bodily eyes.” And God heard her prayer.

“My gallant Eve is suffering horribly from her eyes,” Leona writes to M. Chasteigner in 1929.”The left eye is completely lost. They had to perform a very painful operation on it, to avoid taking it out and that without deadening it first, because she couldn’t support the cocaine-what a martyrdom!”

But Eve never faltered.”You and I, Jesus!” she said, and ordered the doctor to proceed. The operation was unhappily a failure, and the doctor decided that it would be necessary to sew up the eye-lids. An anaesthetic was again impossible, but Eve submitted to the torture with unbroken calm.”It is only just,” she said, “that God should punish a sinful thing such as I am.” Her sufferings were atrocious, yet she seemed to welcome them, and when they diminished, exclaimed:”There, you see, Jesus is abandoning me. He finds me unworthy to suffer because I complain too much.”

Yet in actual fact she bore everything with perfect resignation.”If God wants me to live, He will cure me,” shesaid.”If not, I shall go joyfully.”

It was the summer of 1929 and Eve’s long pilgrimage was nearly at an end. She felt it herself and said:”St. Joseph will be coming to fetch me one of these days,” and it was on his day, Wednesday, that the end came. She died at daybreak on 10th July, 1929, as the Litany of the Blessed Virgin was being said at her bedside. On her humble tomb in the little cemetery of Thuillieres may be read the words which, . . . chosen by herself, sum up perfectly the motive of her life: I HAVE LEFT ALL FOR GOD.

HE ALONE IS SUFFICIENT FOR ME

In obedience to the Decree of Urban VIII, I protest “ that, for the miraculous deeds and gifts ascribed in this little book to certain servants of God, I claim no other belief than that which is ordinarily given to history resting on mere human authority; and that, in giving t he appellation of Saint or Blessed to any person not canonised or beatified by the Church, I only intend to do it according to the usage and opinion of men.

Editor:

IRISH MESSENGER OF THE SACRED HEART. April, 1936.

Nihil Obstat:

Carolus Doyle, S.J., Censor Theol. Deput. .

Imprimi Potest

@ EDUARDUS,

Archiep. Dublinen.,

Hiberniae Primas.

Dublini, die 27a Martii, 1936.

********

A Saint With A Fortune

BY S. M. R

INDEX

OUR story is set in a war-torn country. France, at one time the fairest daughter of Mother Church, experienced her Gethsemane during the fearful days of the Revolution. The blood of bishops, priests and nuns mingled with that of the nobility and gentry enriching the soil and making it fruitful in a wonderful way. In post-Revolution days there arose new religious orders and congregations, whose founders and foundresses have left indelible marks on the history of the universal Church. Many of these have also attained the sublime honour of having been raised to the altars and are now daily invoked throughout Christendom.

While Paris and the large cities were still writhing under the ravages of the Revolution, Gaillac, a little town in the South, was pursuing its peaceful mode of living. The River Tarn flowed undisturbed on its wonted course, while vineyards and orchards flourished on plain and hillside. However, this tranquillity was only external. The minds and hearts of the people were not at rest. In the minds of many still throbbed the cry of the Revolutionaries, “Liberty, Equality and Fraternity.” In men’s hearts a great usurpation had taken place-the “Goddess of Reason” had dethroned the God of Wisdom.

On this stage there appeared the 12th September, 1797, a new figure to whom, later, France and the world would owe an ever increasing debt. This was the baby daughter who that day was born to James Augustine de Vialar and his charming wife Emilie de Portal. Both these families were well known and had left their mark on the history of the province. The de Vialars were opulent with baronial rights, while the de Portals were equally wealthy and renowned for their learning and the long succession of skilled physicians they had given to France. Consequently they were well known throughout the land. Dr. de Portal, the baby’s grandfather, had been physician-in-chief to the King, and had also attended His Holiness, Pope Pius VI, during his sojourn in the French capital.

Without delay, although the registers recording date and place are not available, the little one was admitted to the life of Sanctifying Grace by the regenerating waters of Baptism and named Anne Marguerite Adelaide Emilie. Mme. de Vialar cared for her growing child with the greatest diligence and vigilance so that her thoughts should, as early as possible, be directed to her God. The baby hand was soon accustomed to the actions of the Sign of the Cross, and, from the time that the tiny lips could lisp, the holy names of Jesus and Mary were the first that the child learned. This good mother was renowned for her piety and love of our Holy Mother, the Church. This ardent zeal for Christ’s Mystical Body she passed on as a special legacy to her daughter. The father, however, was less fervent and was tainted with the ideas and ideals of the Enlightenment.

When Emilie was two years old there was great rejoicing as a son had been born to the de Vialars. This child was named Augustine after his father. Two more sons, Alfred and Maximin, later blessed this union. Alfred, however, lived only twenty days.

Emilie’s early education was the work of her devoted mother, but her seventh birthday brought the decision that she should go to school. At this period Christian parents had no choice as to what educational establishment they would confide their children. A school had quite recently been opened at Gaillac and it was to this that parents were compelled to send their little ones if they desired them to attend classes at all. The directress, Miss Duberville, was an ex-goddess of Reason, and, although refined and well educated, lacked all sense of religion. Hence we can well imagine with what reluctance Emilie’s mother had her child enrolled at this school. However, she still remained her real teacher, instructing her in the truths of our Holy Faith and inculcating the practice of every Christian virtue. Thus Emilie grew up in an atmosphere of piety.

Before many weeks had elapsed, Miss Duberville realized that in Emilie she had an excellent pupil who would bring fame to her as a teacher. Also attending this school was a girl, about the same age as Emilie, named Hortense de Cossigny. She, too, was brilliant and had, in addition, exceptional musical ability. Emilie also learned the piano, but she did not have talent equal to Hortense who was taught by her father. The fact that Emilie was Miss Duberville’s pupil made the latter concentrate on Emilie in a vain attempt to have her surpass Hortense in musical achievement. This pressure was a severe trial to Emilie, who often remarked to her friend, “I shall never be able to play like you.”

Referring to this experience in her Autobiography, written at the request of her confessor, we find this entry, “At the age of eight or nine, God inspired me with the thought of suffering for Him the pains caused by those who governed me.” Emilie attended this school for six years and endeared herself to her companions by her patience, her piety and her beautiful disposition.

The next event of importance was her Confirmation. This was an auspicious occasion as it was the first time since the Revolution that a bishop had visited Gaillac. As may well be imagined, Bishop Fournier was welcomed most enthusiastically. This date, 3rd June, 1807, was always regarded by Emilie as a great day in her life. The Holy Ghost poured into her soul His seven gifts, with those of Wisdom and Fortitude in an unusual degree. These were precisely the ones she would need most during the years that lay ahead.

The time had now come when it was decided to send Emilie to Paris to finish her education. The thought of separation grieved her mother greatly but she sacrificed her own feelings in what she considered the best interests of her cherished daughter. Paris offered the choice of several excellent schools, and had the added attraction of being the home of Baron de Portal and his daughter Mme. de Lamourié. Thus Emilie would not be entirely among strangers.

When the necessary preparations were completed, the family set out for Paris in September, 1810. Mme. de Vialar, whose health had gradually been failing since the birth of Maximin seventeen months before, was completely exhausted by the journey and compelled to go to bed as soon as she arrived at her father’s home. The famous physician immediately recognized the seriousness of his daughter’s condition and employed all his skill and energy in a vain attempt to restore her to health. A time of severe trial was now at hand for, on 17th December, the good mother received the final summons to appear before her God to receive from Him the reward of her virtuous life.

To the sensitive soul of Emilie this was a very heavy cross. With a maturity beyond her years she realized her loss. Mme. de Lamourié, to whom her sister had confided the three children, was a kindly person and lavished every possible care and attention on her precious charges. However, in accordance with her mother’s wishes, Emilie was taken to the Abbaye-au-Bois and enrolled as a boarder. Here she was surrounded by the love and care of the good sisters of the Congregation of Our Lady.

Almost inconsolable at the death of his wife, Baron de Vialar returned to Gaillac with his two young sons and a governess named Toinon. This latter person soon assumed complete control of the household and was the cause of great suffering to Emilie when later she returned home.

Emilie spent two happy and fruitful years at the Abbey during which time she received her First Holy Communion. This was for her an occasion of special grace. In her Autobiography we read, “From this time God began to draw my heart to Himself. I was encouraged to correct a habit of lying that was the only fault of which I was conscious and which I had contracted for fear of being scolded by my parents. At the same period I was inspired to practise mortification. I obeyed and experienced in return a delightful union with God which filled my soul with so much sweetness that I cannot find words to express it.”

Except for the death of her dearly loved mother, Emilie’s life had been one of unclouded joy. Her sunny temperament endeared her to all with whom she came in contact. Her mirth and goodness seemed contagious and her sympathetic heart responded promptly to every appeal for kindness. Would this happy state continue, or would it end with schooldays? The future alone held the answer to the question.

Happy days at the Abbey now came abruptly to an end. Baron de Vialar quite unexpectedly decided to bring his daughter home. He declared he was lonely for her company, but his treatment of her makes it difficult for us to believe this was his true motive. Amid many tears and ardent promises to return to visit her old teachers and companions, Emilie left the dear Abbey and all the happy associations of the past two years and .returned home. But what a transformation! What was home without the tender, loving mother? Could it be called home? Only two years had elapsed since she had left Gaillac, but the changes wrought seemed the work of centuries.

With a heart well-nigh breaking, Emilie decided to sacrifice her feelings and to enter whole-heartedly into the difficult tasks that now lay ahead. Two young boys were longing for a mother’s lave which she would endeavour to supply. A father had to be won back to love and affection. What tasks for one who was only a school-girl! Responsibility soon matured Emilie and she immediately became an adornment to the home. Her father, however, did not view his daughter in this light as he was completely dominated by Toinon, whose jealousy of Emilie prompted her to concoct the most fantastic tales and to pour them into the willing ears of the master of the household.

However, friendship is a great force in one’s life and Emilie at this time had two valued friends, Hortense de Cossigny and Rosine de Bermond. As Emilie was a perfect friend she knew how to value the sincerity of others. She now had to take her place in society and for a time she became engrossed in the vanities that surrounded her. Her main difficulty at this time was to find a suitable confessor and adviser to whom she could unburden her soul. This in the days when Jansenism was rife, was an extremely difficult task.

During 1816 a mission was preached at Gaillac. Emilie followed the exercises as she says “without devotion and with lack of attention.” However, as the mission was drawing to a close she became troubled about her Confessions and Communions and experienced an overpowering desire to make a General Confession. In this she was encouraged by one of the missionaries. Referring to her preparation for the reception of the Sacramentof Penance, she said, “The Lord enlightened me so well that, without the trouble of examining my conscience, all my faults became clear to me:” Again she writes, “After Confession and during Holy Mass that followed the same fear of having offended God gave me such a detestation of sin that I shed abundant tears and my heart was quite changed, filled with love towards God and with a determination to avoid all offence against Him. Furthermore, I was filled with zeal enabling me to overcome human respect, which was the obstacle I feared most.”

After the Mission, her confessor, Father Miguel, allowed her to receive Holy Communion three times a week. We must remember that Emilie lived before the days of frequent and daily Communion. Nevertheless, she did not feel free to reveal the workings of grace in her soul to this priest as she felt he would attribute her declarations to pride or else condemn them as illusions. “I knew,” she writes, “in such a clear and convincing manner what the Lord expected of me that I had not the least doubt:” She tells us that she was first drawn to practise mortification, principally fasting, and in this she persevered for some weeks. Her next inspiration was to immolate her will to that of God. At the same time she was urged to forgo the vanities of worldly attire and to avoid in any way endeavouring to make herself appear attractive to others.

This new mode of life did not in any way mark her as singular as her mortifications were interior. She still frequented society as a companion to her father, who, in spite of his treatment of her, felt a secret pride in her queenly bearing and in her ability to make all around her feel at ease.

Her piety, however, was a source of annoyance to her father who strongly protested against her evening visit to the Blessed Sacrament. He considered daily Mass sufficient devotion.

About this time Emilie received a special favour from God: She was alone in the church praying before the Blessed Sacrament when, suddenly, on the Altar she saw Our Lard stretched out before her. His Head was at the Gospel side; His Feet at the Epistle side. His Arms were in the shape of a cross and His Hair fell on to His Shoulders. A shadow hid a portion of His Body, but the Chest, Side and Feet were visible. (Emilie states that she does not know whether they were visible to the eyes of her soul or to her corporal eyes). What arrested her gaze in particular were the Five Wounds, especially the one in the right Side from which emerged several drops of blood. In thanksgiving for this singular favour, she left to her spiritual daughters the precious legacy of the daily recitation of five Our Fathers and five Hail Marys in honour of these five most precious wounds.

The choice of her vocation in life now caused her great anxiety. She thought deeply and prayed earnestly about this most vital affair, but still no definite pathway opened itself before her. However, one day while absorbed in prayer, she heard an interior voice saying to her, “In two years You will know your vocation.”

At this time she felt a great attraction for the foreign missions. Each time she went to Paris to visit her grand-father she visited the Church of the Missions and back home in Gaillac she was a constant visitor to the Church of St. John of Carthage where special honour is paid to St. Francis Xavier, the Patron of the Missions. “At the age of eighteen,” she writes, “I made a vow to recite daily some prayers in honour of this great saint.”

Conflicting with her desire for the foreign missions was the sense of her obligation to remain in her father’s house so as to ensure the practice of religion by those who lived there. Another cause of worry at his time was the frequent offers of brilliant marriages that presented themselves. Her refusal to consider any of the learned and noble suitors who sought her hand enraged her father beyond the power of words to express.

There now came a time when all spiritual consolations were withdrawn and God seemed to have left this favoured soul to herself. She was extremely perturbed and blamed herself for this period of aridity by accusing herself of having failed to correspond fully to the inspirations of grace. Hence she decided to overcome all repugnances and unburden her mind to her confessor. She commenced by telling him of the great favours with which she had been privileged, but she did not proceed very far when she was abruptly stopped and the priest refused to believe what she was saying. Hence she was thrown back again on herself: In spite of her disappointment, she continued to do all in her power to please God and to fulfil His Will: She felt attracted to works of charity and this attraction took concrete shape in visiting the sick in their homes, in bringing them the necessary remedies and food and in working for the conversion of sinners and heretics. Surely here was a vast field pf apostolic labours.

At last in 1822, Father Mercier came into her life. His arrival in Gaillac seemed providential for Emilie. She studied this new priest assiduously and, recognizing in him a truly apostolic spirit, decided to confide the guidance of her spiritual life to him. We are not surprised to learn that, in Emilie, he discerned an exceptional soul upon whom God had great designs.

Emilie now felt that God was drawing her irresistibly to the religious life. But how? Where? She did not know. Her confessor felt that she was destined for an unusual apostolate, but was not very clear as to what course he should advise herto pursue: He said to her, “God has destined you, without doubt, for something important, but what it is we do not yet know.” He next proceeded to test her very severely and opposed her every suggestion. This course of action was the outcome of his desire to help her and to avoid any possibility of an error of judgment in deciding her true vocation.

Emilie became more and more engrossed in her works of charity and for the next ten years continued this apostolate as well as fulfilling her duties to her father and bearing patiently the attacks of Toinon. Soon others were attracted to her charitable works and joined her in her noble enterprise. The fortune inherited from her mother was gradually finding its way to the poor and, in a house from the same legacy of this beloved mother, she gathered together the children of the poor, attended to their needs, taught them their catechism and inspired them with a love of Our Divine Lord and His Blessed Mother. The story of Bethlehem and Calvary deeply impressed this chosen group.

The society, to which by reason of her noble birth she really belonged, frowned on her good works and charitable undertakings and criticized her every action.

It could not understand her abandoning the rich attire and costly jewels to which she had been accustomed .from her cradle for the more humble dress and lack of all adornment, save a little cross attached to a black cord, in which she now appeared. Yet, in spite of all this, her beauty and attractiveness were as striking as before. The world cannot understand the sublime folly of the Cross.

Baron de Vialar shared the views of his friends as regards his daughter’s conduct. However, there seemed very little he could do about it. He wished to see her eclipse all rivals in the ball-rooms of his friends and to contract a marriage worthy of a de Vialar. That she desired the King of Kings for her Spouse did not seem to satisfy his ambition. As he was particularly proud of his own appearance he desired to see Emilie more elaborately dressed then the other young ladies of the society in which he moved.

One day he met Emilie in the street as she was carrying a bowl of soup to one of her sick poor. Filled with indignation, he roughly seized the bowl and dashed it to pieces on the pavement at her feet. This act caused her great humiliation, but she was more concerned over the poor person’s loss and her father’s attitude than at anything she suffered herself. As the poor are kings in God’s kingdom, Emilie felt it an honour to be able to visit them and to have them to visit her. Here again she met with opposition from her father, who would not tolerate his home being a rendezvous for the poor of the district. In a fit of rage he ordered his daughter to have a special entrance made for her “particular friends.” He did not at all intend to be taken at his word, but thought that this would put an end to her caprices, as he was pleased to term her charitable undertakings.

Imagine his consternation when the sounds of the tools of masons and carpenters reached his astonished ears. Emilie, without delay, had engaged workmen to construct the new entrance, thus inflicting another defeat on the irate father.

Father Mercier now felt that he had discovered Emilie’s vocation. She was a born foundress. She was to establish an order to exercise itself in the works of charity in which she was already engaged.

At dinner one day Emilie decided to tell her father of her desire for the religious life. As soon as she mentioned the subject he grasped a decanter from the table and hurled it at her head. Whether he was a poor shot, or whether Emilie moved too quickly from its course, is difficult to say, but he missed his mark. From this time .things became, if possible, more difficult for Emilie.

Her friend, Rosine de Bermond, recounts that at this time Emilie had a vision of St. Joseph who said to her, “Do not be discouraged, my daughter. You will encounter many obstacles. You will be overwhelmed with bitterness. Trials will be multiplied, but your work will prosper.”

Emilie now realized that in order to answer God’s call she would have to leave home and all dear to her. She was worried about her father and sought to make arrangements whereby he would be so well cared for that he would not miss her unduly. The answer to her prayers came when, in 1831, Maximin married her old friend, Rosine. Henceforward she would replace Emilie in the household.

Everything seemed to be moving satisfactorily when news came of the death of Baron de Portal. Emilie loved this dear old grandfather most tenderly and was greatly grieved at his death. Wasn’t he a link with her darling mother whom God had called home when Emilie was very young?

With the passing of Baron de Portal, the medical profession lost one of its most brilliant and prominent members. During his long life he had amassed a considerable fortune, which he bequeathed to his daughter, Mme. de Lamourié, and to his three grandchildren, Emilie, Augustine and Maximin. Emilie’s share was very considerable. This money came just when she needed it most. She could now establish on a solid basis the charitable works which she had so much at heart. She writes, “The assiduous care I gave to the sick when I was at home developed in me the thought of founding a working order to be able to assist them day andnight.”

In her own town, Gaillac, Emilie laid the foundations of her Institute. No doubt, she felt that she would find more co-labourers there than elsewhere, and her work was really well on the way. She already knew the haunts of the poor, the sick and the distressed. However widely spread her Institute might become, she felt that here it would be solidly rooted. The separation from her father made her suffer greatly and she says, “Although for twenty years my existence in my father’s house was so painful that only the thought that I was fulfilling the will of God gave me strength to remain there, it was, nevertheless, with a great effort that I decided to leave my father’s home on account of the great grief that I knew my going would cause him.”

Mistress of her fortune, Emilie acquired a spacious house in Gaillac. Three of her friends joined her. Then at Christmas, 1832, she departed from her father’s house leaving for him a letter which she hoped would make the situation clear and soften his grief. It was worded in the most tender terms and informed him that she would remain in Gaillac and thus be able to visit him and to continue to care for him whenever he had need of her. Unfortunately, Baron de Vialar wanted all or nothing. He could not bear the thought that Emilie would no longer live under his roof, or that she would no longer be an ornament to his home. He fully realized that much would be missing from the home. now that she was gone.

It must be remembered that he was secretly proud of his charming daughter. The fact that her Creator had a prior claim on her did not enter his selfish calculations, and for five years he maintained a frigid aloofness, Neither the entreaties of Emilie nor of her friends could in the least soften his obdurate heart.

Now, at the age of thirty-five, Emilie was but commencing her great work. But how well equipped she was, naturally and supernaturally, for her gigantic task! A novitiate which stretched back to her most early years, the practice of asceticism which prepared her for the exigencies of the apostolate, the union of the contemplative with the active life while still at home, the exercise of works of charity for the space of two decades, and finally, the heroic endurance for nearly a quarter of a century of the ill-will of her father and the contemptible treatment of her by Toinon, these were the instruments God employed to mould the noble soul of the foundress. One endowed with so many gifts and virtues could not fail to attract souls; and in two months eight other aspirants joined the little band. Among these was Emilie Julien who was destined to become the second Superior General of the Congregation. The nucleus of the new Institute was the target of much criticism by the people of Gaillac-the foundress was too young, the habit too attractive, its members would soon disband, etc., etc., etc. However, as everything undertaken unselfishly and earnestly for the greater glory of God and the good of souls must eventually prosper so did the work commenced by Emilie de Vialar.

The name of the new Institute had already been decided upon. It would be known as the Institute of the Sisters of St. Joseph of the Apparition. At first the title is a little bewildering. It is in reality very simple and honours in an especial manner the Mystery of the Incarnation as revealed to St. Joseph by the Angel. “Fear not, Joseph, Son of David, to take unto thee Mary, thy spouse, for that which is conceived of her is of the Holy Ghost. She shall bring forth a son and thou shalt call his name Jesus, for he shall save his people from their sins.” Emilie felt that her mission was to spread the glad tidings of redemption to the remotest parts of the globe.

More than a title, however, was necessary for the new Institute. A rule of life had to be drawn up. This the foundress now set about to do. After many prayers to the Holy Spirit for guidance, and much concentration on the important work in hand, a provisional rule was presented to the members by Emilie and was joyfully received by all.

Acceptance by the members was but part of what was needed. Ecclesiastical approbation was essential. So, with a copy of the rules in her hand, and hope and trepidation struggling for supremacy in her heart, Emilie presented herself to Archbishop de Gualy. On being ushered into his august presence, and the usual salutation being concluded, this kindly dignitary of Mother Church said, “Well, my child, what do you want?”

“Your Grace, I have here a copy of the rules that I have just drawn up for the Institute that I have recently founded. I trust that you will approve of them and give our work your blessing.”

“Leave them with me so that I may be able to study them and later give you my verdict.”

“Thank you, Your Grace.”

“You may be pleased to hear that I have received gratifying reports of your work among the sick and poor. This news gave me great consolation!’

“I am pleased that you are interested in our work, particularly our efforts to help the sick and distressed.”

“I shall not keep you waiting long for my opinion of your rules.”

“Your Grace, I thank you for your encouragement and trust all will be well: “

With a light heart, Emilie left the Archbishop and hastened home to convey the glad news to her companions.

After serious deliberation, the rules were approved by this grand Archbishop, who became a powerful ally and the first Superior General of the Institute. He studied its birth, watched with interest its progress and was ever ready with valuable advice on every aspect of the life and work of the members. Indeed, Emilie now had two valuable friends, the Archbishop and Father Mercier.

Although the Institute was but a few months old many things had taken place. The works were established, the rules were approved and the Archbishop authorized Father Mercier to perform the ceremony of the taking of the habit by the first aspirants. Classes were organized but the children of the poor were to be the first to receive attention. At this time a dispensary was set up to which the poor flocked to have their ills treated or to obtain free medicine. Without any fee being asked, the sick and old were attended in their own homes, and when necessary they were watched over during the night. What mighty undertakings! However, God’s love and grace surmount the barriers raised by frail human nature, end prayer and sacrifice enabled them to carry on until their ranks were augmented. The care of the women in the local prison was now confided to the sisters.

When the needs of the poor were supplied, a school for the children of well-to-do parents was opened. This was followed by a boarding school. New recruits were forthcoming, thus permitting an extension of the works.

On 17th June, 1833, a tragedy was narrowly averted by the forethought of Sister Emilie. At this time there was in Gaillac a band of young scoundrels having a reputation for daily deeds of violence. One of this group was a carrier who, that very day, had brought a very heavy box to the convent. This box had came from Paris. The youth in question told his comrades and it was decided that the box must contain valuables which they determined to procure that night. They resolved to resort to violence if anyone attempted to thwart their plans. As the chapel was in the course of construction, the ladders left by the workmen would prove helpful. About midnight they arrived at the convent. They scaled the ladders but found to their amazement they could not enter the house. That evening, as though enlightened from on high, Emilie had locked each door and barred each window. This course of action she had never previously taken.

On 4th July, 1830, Algeria was conquered by the French. This victory caused much excitement and many enthusiastic outbursts took place in the French capital. Colonists were encouraged to go to the newly-conquered territory, and Augustine de Vialar, the elder brother of the foundress, was among the first to visit the new colony. Such was his faith in it that he purchased many extensive holdings.

Augustine was not only a true Frenchman but a valiant Christian who desired to improve the lot of the poor neglected and despised Arabs. With this end in view, he set up a travelling dispensary and wrote to France for monetary assistance to help to finance his project. The subscription list was headed by Louis Phillippe and his Queen. Now someone was needed to care for the sick and naturally Augustine’s thoughts turned to his sister, and to her he made known the needs of the colony.

The arrival of the request for nuns aroused great enthusiasm at Gaillac. The foreign missions were to become a reality. Immediately Emilie approached Archbishop de Gualy in order to benefit by his fatherly advice. He gave his absolute approval of the project. This was all the foundress needed. Her acceptance of this new field of labour was surely a girlish dream crystallizing under her very eyes. Six months were allotted for the necessary preparations. She would take with her three young sisters who, in the intervening months, would have lessons in pharmacy to equip them for their new work.

On 28th July, 1835, the little band left for Algeria. What au-revoirs there must have been as the time of separation drew near! Those left in Gaillac must have shared with the quartet the terrors of facing the unknown and the untried. Love, however, conquers all things and the love of Christ Crucified leads souls to attempt even the impossible.

The journey took thirteen days. As the sisters travelled on the same boat as the new Governor-General of Algeria they shared in his phenomenal reception and were escorted between two rows of soldiers while guns boomed a salute.

The little band was received into the home of Augustine while awaiting their departure for a distant outpost. In the meantime cholera broke out in Algiers and swept like a flame through the town. Here, now, was work at hand. The sisters fought the epidemic for three months; then it abated.

Never before had such devotedness been displayed in those parts. The conditions under which the sisters laboured were indescribable, yet never a word of complaint escaped their lips. Was not their motto “Devotedness unto Death”? If so much tenderness was lavished on the poor frail bodies, what concern must have been displayed for the souls of the poor disease-stricken people?

The missionaries, through their devotedness and skill, had gained the admiration of the entire population—European and native. The Mussulmen and Jews saw for the first time Christianity resplendent in its true glory. The representative of the Holy See in Algiers wrote to Archbishop de Gualy expressing his appreciation of and edification at the conduct of the sisters. He also communicated the same impressions to Cardinal Franzoni, Prefect of Propaganda, Rome. Thus officially, for the first time, Rome and Emilie met.

Now that the sisters seemed firmly established at Algiers, Mother Emilie deemed it fitting that she should return to the cradle of the Institute. At the end of November she placed Sister Henriette Rieunier in charge and, left for France. The sisters were very sad to see her go but realized that her presence was needed at home. Immediately on her return, Mother Emilie arranged for a retreat. This was conducted by Fr. P. Bequei. After the retreat she went to Paris to present herself to the Queen and to solicit her protection, as affairs in Algeria, as in any newly-colonized territory, were very unsettled. The present time was opportune for her to make her request as all France was sounding the praises of the sisters and the work of Baron de Portal as court physician was was still fresh in the minds of all: The Queen accorded Emilie a most encouraging reception and promised her support.

In March she returned to Gaillac! But what a different Gaillac! The inhabitants who had formerly tormented the sisters and considered them as fools now regarded them as heroines and saints. How fickle and fleeting is the blame or applause of the crowd!

The convent at Gaillac was now solidly established, but Africa was calling for attention, so, towards the end of April, 1836, Mother Emilie again left for Algeria. Her first work was to find a building suitable for a convent. Up to now the sisters had remained at the home of Augustine de Vialar. Before long she acquired three houses and established schools and dispensaries. By the end of 1836, twenty sisters were on the mission. The Arabs, who learned to admire the nuns during the epidemic, continued to come to them and marvelled at the maternal care with which they attendedtheir most repulsive sores. “He must be very good Who makes you do such things,” one remarked while gazing at a Sister’s crucifix.

In addition to providing a home for newly-born babes abandoned by their unnatural parents, the convent became a refuge for girls in distress and, in fact, for any one in trouble. The care bestowed on these unfortunate members of Christ’s flock gained for Mother Emilie and the sisters the esteem of the native population which the passing of the years would only intensify. When, late in 1836, two or three French members of the Council protested against the presence of the sisters in the State Hospital, the Arab and Israelite members disputed so hotly in favour of the sisters that the protest was dismissed and never again raised.

On hearing this Mother Emilie was galvanized into action. She decided to sacrifice the remainder of her fortune on the interests, present and future, of the Congregation. Financially she alone had borne the full burden of the enormous expenses attached to the establishments in Algiers. It was not until two years later that she received any pecuniary assistance and then only for work being done in the State Hospital. This recognition was the result of the pressure brought to bear on the authorities by Augustine.

A call now came from Bone for the sisters to undertake there the work of education. Mother Emilie did not immediately respond as she was endeavouring to obtain some financial aid to enable the work in Algiers to be carried on and extended. After many stormy debates this was forthcoming and when all matters on that score were finalized, she set out with four sisters for Bone. She remained them some weeks organizing the works and, after naming Sister Emilie Julien as Superior, she returned to Algiers.

The January of 1838 found her back at Gaillac. In reality she was the recognized Mother General of the Congregation, but this fact had to be canonically established by the elections prescribed by the constitutions. In due course these elections were held and on the unanimous vote of the sisters Emilie de Vialar became the first Mother General of the Congregation of the Sisters of St. Joseph of the Apparition. The newly appointed Mother General now made some additions to the constitutions which received the approbation of Archbishop de Gualy.,

Now came the first foundation in France outside the Mother House. At Montans was a house owned by one of the sisters. This was converted into a convent where classes for young children were held.

The event for which Mother Emilie had long prayed and hoped now took place. Her father at last consented to see her. The successful intermediary was her brother, Augustine, who managed to make his father realize his extreme folly. This reconciliation brought untold joy to Emilie. She had found it a severe trial all these years to be welcomed in every home in Gaillac except her own.

In 1839, the parish priest of Saint-Affrique asked for the sisters to work in that town. He offered a furnished house containing a beautiful chapel as a residence for the nuns. Soon a staff was selected and Father Mercier accompanied the sisters to their new home. The town was agog with excitement. The convent was beseiged from morning to night with well-wishers anxious to meet the nuns.

March 1839 found twelve sisters in the hospital at Algiers and twenty-four in the central house in the town. From Constantine came a plea for sisters. The population there was mainly native as very few colonists had yet settled at that spot. Ever ready to assist the needy, Mother Emilie and same sisters left for Constantine on 4th April the same year.

This was an auspicious occasion, as the newly appointed Bishop of Algiers, Bishop Dupuch, accompanied the sisters and installed them in their new home. The trip was very stormy and threatened to end disastrously but for the intervention of Her who is Star of the Sea. In thanksgiving for a safe arrival, Bishop Dupuch offered Holy Mass the next morning. Constantine was still some distance. En route, Bone, where the sisters were already established, and Hippo, with its memories of the great St. Augustine, were visited. At length, their destination being reached, the sisters took charge of a hospital.

Mother Emilie describing this arrival said, “The town rejoiced at our coming and the Arabs stopped us at every step to tell us how much they loved us. They brought their sick and asked us to visit them in their homes. I cured the chief of the desert tribes, known as the Serpent of the Desert. He displayed great confidence in me. One day as I was preparing to administer a remedy to him, I, according to local custom, tasted the potion to assure him that it was all right. He seemed pained and said, “What are you doing? From you I would take anything.”‘

Later he asked for some sisters to go to Biskra, the capital of his territory, and, on one of the sisters remarking that, perhaps, the Arabs in that part would not respect the nuns, he said, with much feeling, “If an Arab should show the least disrespect to the Cross you wear, I would have him beheaded on the spot.”

Constantine being firmly established, Mother Emilie returned to Algiers and towards the end of the year, prompted and aided by Bishop Dupuch, commenced a new work-the charge of an orphanage. This was on the feast of St. Cyprian. The Bishop adopted twenty-five orphans whom he placed in the care of the sisters. This number corresponded to the pieces of gold that St. Cyprian gave to his executioner.

Until now the Bishop of Algiers had been very well disposed towards the foundress. He even persuaded her to send to His Holiness, Gregory XVI, an account of the good that was being accomplished by the Institute in Algiers and France. With the protection of the Bishop, the successful opening of new foundations, the sympathy of the populace, the stage seemed set for a splendid mission in Algeria. God, however, Who wishes to sublimate all by contact with His Cross, soon placed Mother Emilie’s feet on the Via Dolorosa.

As if she had a premonition of the trials that lay ahead, Mother Emilie wrote to Archbishop de Gualy and asked his authorization to make a foundation at Tunis. His Grace was delighted at the excellent proposal and wrote most cordially to her in the following terms. “Such a design can come only from the Holy Spirit Who wishes through it to procure spiritual help for an immense population and to consolidate the houses you already have in Algeria. Not only do I permit you, but also I exhort you to realize this pious project as soon as you can, persuaded that your enterprise must have happy results. The enemy of souls will not allow, without stern resistance, a people over whom he has held sovereign sway be snatched away from him. But you know, through experience, that God will protect you.”

Now the time of severe trial was at hand. Bishop Dupuch set about to demand certain changes in the Constitutions of the Institute. Desiring to be Superior General of the houses in Algeria, he wrote to Mother Emilie as follows: “Do you consent, now and for the time, that God keeps your society in Algeria, you and all the members who compose or will compose it, purely and simply to be under my episcopal jurisdiction and that of my successors, in such a way that we can dispose, as seems good to us before God, of you and your sisters of the said society? Do you bind yourself expressly to observe and to have observed the modifications and changes that, now and in the future, we believe useful to make for the houses in our diocese only, to your rules and constitutions?”

“It is evident,” replies Mother Emilie, “that a society which would submit to such an arrangement would no longer be a society. The religious Congregation that would accept such conditions would be signing its own death warrant.”

Events now moved rapidly. His Lordship was adamant in the demands he had made and, Mother Emilie, feeling that she had right on her side, firmly but respectfully resisted. Perhaps, without the heavy cross laid on the foundress’s shoulders by this Bishop, she would never have had such an opportunity of displaying her heroic virtue and admirable courage. Furthermore these events led indirectly to the establishment of foundations at Tunis and Rome.

The Archbishop of Albi now advised Mother Emilie to go to Rome, the heart of the Church, and there to seek the approbation of the Constitutions. His Grace wrote a letter to His Holiness introducing to him the foundress and imploring him to assist her.

For a long time Mother Emilie had been considering a visit to Rome as, desirous that her Congregation should know no national boundaries, she realized the necessity of having the approval of the supreme Head of the Universal Church. She arrived in Rome towards the end of 1840.

His Holiness received her almost immediately on her arrival. She humbly petitioned the approval of the Constitutions and clearly explained her difficulties with Bishop Dupuch. After listening very attentively His Holiness replied, “Providence must have great designs for your Institute since He permits it to undergo such severe trials.”

When Mother Emilie assured Gregory XVI of her unswerving obedience he said with enthusiasm, “I believe it. I believe it.” The Pope declared his keen interest in her work.

Some days after this interview, a friend of the Congregation went to visit the Pope, who said, “Is Mother Emilie satisfied with the audience I gave her?” On receiving an affirmative reply he smilingly added, “She knows how to defend her rights.”

Mother Emilie’s stay in the Eternal City was prolonged. She remained there eighteen months. While waiting for her affairs to be finalized, she opened a house in Rome. The sisters began by caring for the sick in their own homes, particularly the French residents in that city. Next was opened a school for the children of parents in comfortable circumstances. The monetary assistance from such establishments enabled the works among the poor to be extended.

While everything in Rome was progressing favourably, affairs in Algeria were going from bad to worse. The sisters were ordered by the Bishop to withdraw from Algiers, and when it became known that they had to leave there were protests from every quarter. Two of these were forwarded to the Holy Father. One was from the colonists bearing two hundred signatures, the other, bearing one hundred and thirty-three signatures, from the Mussulman population. These protests were a source of great consolation to Mother Emilie who alone knew the amount of good accomplished for souls and bodies in this sphere of activity.

She and her sisters, with one unfortunate exception, felt that they could never yield to the demands of the Bishop. Although their hearts were breaking at leaving their devoted people, they realized that the Congregation as a whole could not be jeopardized. It must be remembered that the expenses attached to the foundations in Algiers had come from the private fortune of Mother Emilie. She had spent almost to her last farthing in this new land. Now, what indemnity was she to receive? Surely all she had invested would be restored to her. Unfortunately such was not to be the case.

While these affairs were torturing the mind of the foundress, Rome gave her the joy of her life by a provisional approval of the Rules and Constitutions. This took place on 6th May, 1842. The Congregation was not quite ten years old.

Before passing from Bishop Dupuch, we must relate that years later he realized his mistake and wrote a very apologetic letter to Mother Emilie. When it arrived she read it, showed it to a few of the sisters and then tore it in shreds saying, “It is not right that a Bishop should thus humble himself before a religious.”

A month after the Constitutions had been so well received by Rome, Mother Emilie suffered a heavy loss in the death of her old friend, adviser and superior, Archbishop de Gualy.

Having terminated her work in Rome, the foundress returned to France before setting out again for Algiers.

Before the end of January, 1843, all the sisters had returned to Gaillac or had been placed elsewhere. Mother Emilie alone remained in Algiers, like a captain who is last to leave his sinking ship. Now she had to face another cross, this time a family one. Augustine lost his beautiful young wife at the early age of twenty-seven. She left two tiny children, Margaret aged two and .Euphemie, still a babe in arms. We can well imagine what a consolation it was to Augustine to have his sister with him at this time. What courage she must have inspired in him and what hopes of eternal rewards she must have kindled in the soul of her dying sister-in-law.

The two motherless ones now became the objects of the special love and devotion of their aunt.

At this time an interesting offer was made to Mother Emilie to open a boarding school at La Marsa. This offer came from Monsieur Raffo, the minister of the Bey, and could hardly be refused. In order, to study the situation on the spot, the foundress left for that town via Tunis. After due investigation she accepted the work and sent two sisters to open the house. Later a third joined the duo. While the house at La Marsa was being founded under such patronage,. Marshal Bugeaud in a public speech declared, “The Sisters of St. Joseph have helped me most in relieving the terrible miseries that the Administration, with all the means at its disposal, has been unable to alleviate. They have cared for the sick who could not find accommodation in hospital and they have taken care of the orphans.”

La Marsa being established and the work well on the way, Mother Emilie left for Tunis, passing through Bone en route, and then returned to France. The boat was quarantined at Toulon and the passengers had to spend some time in isolation. When this period was completed, the foundress continued her journey to Gaillac where a very warm welcome awaited her from the sisters who always felt secure when she was in their midst.

The Congregation and its works were now becoming well-known and calls for sisters came from far and near. Even distant Cyprus asked for the sisters: Mother Emilie, it must be realized, was a very poor traveller and had a dread of the sea. This, however, she conquered in the interest of her life’s great work and, bravely, faced the many journeys it entailed. She liked to accompany the sisters whenever possible to any new foundation:

While she was away the financial state of the Institute had greatly deteriorated, owing to the fraud and dishonesty of those who had been trusted to guard its interests. Mother Emilie endeavoured by gentle means at first, then through the medium of the Law Court, to have her affairs adjusted, but without success. She did not even have the satisfaction of knowing what had happened to her money.

In 1845, while in Malta, the foundress met Father Bruno, an Oblate of Mary Immaculate, who was on a holiday from Burma. The Sisters of St. Joseph and the Oblates of Mary Immaculate have been associated since the early days of both Congregations. In Western Australia they together helped to pioneer the work of Christian education and planted the faith firmly in the port of Fremantle, where, today, the Sons of Eugene de Mazenod and the Daughters of St. Emilie de Vialar still carry on their grand work in the traditions of the first missionaries to that part of Australia.

Father Bruno asked for sisters for Burma. A moment’s reflection will reveal the difficulties in a pagan oriental country. However, when later Mother Emilie asked for volunteers for this arduous mission she was overcome and overjoyed by the spirit of sacrifice displayed by her sisters. All who volunteered could not be sent so she made a judicious selection of six young sisters for the distant mission.

A very astonishing and striking incident occurred as the missionaries were journeying to their new home. There was no Suez Canal at that time and the voyage was trying and hazardous. The route from Alexandria to Suez was through desert. However, the sisters felt that He Who had to flee through the same desert to escape the anger of a jealous, impious King, would protect those who had become voluntary exiles for Him.

During this part of the voyage they met an old man who, each time the coach stopped, approached them and said, “It is I, my children, fear not, I am here.” This aged man had a long white beard and carried a staff. He took their small parcels and helped them back into the coach. He finally accompanied them to the boat and said, “Good-bye, my children. A pleasant trip. Fear nothing for I am here.”

Then he disappeared. The sisters looked at one another in amazement as each felt that it was their father and protector St. Joseph who had come to them.

The successor of Archbishop de Gualy in the archdiocese of Albi was not in many ways favourably inclined towards Mother Emilie, and, when her financial position became so involved, due to no fault of hers, he condemned her as incapable. With her usual foresight, she predicted that eventually it would become necessary to leave Gaillac, so she looked towards Toulouse as the place for the Mother House of the Congregation. She did not yet realize that this was but a stepping-stone to Marseilles, where God had destined her to establish the Mother House. There we find it today but not at the same location as in the days of the foundress.

By a strange coincidence the sisters were invited back to Gaillac in 1867 while Mother Emilie Julien was Mother General. The influential families of that town appealed for a return of the Sisters of St. Joseph to educate their daughters. The sisters returned to inhabit the very house that they had been virtually forced to leave some years earlier.

Once again, Mother Emilie, in the interests of the Congregation, attempted to have the money of which she had been deprived restored to her. Again she failed. In the midst of all these trials her calmness was unruffled. One day a Sister, astonished at seeing her so calm and happy in her poverty, remarked the fact to her and received this reply: “If I had not become poor, I would never have established the Congregation. Blessings would not have come. All must be stamped with the seal of the Cross. Let us thank Our Lord for this grace. Let us have confidence. His Providence will never fail us. He is our Spouse. It was for Him we left all and He has undertaken to care for us.” Could anything be more beautiful than these sentiments? How differently we, act and react when deprived of even a trifle!

For four years the Mother House was .at Toulouse, then Mother Emilie decided that Marseilles being a port would be much more convenient now that sisters were constantly leaving for distant missions fields. The first house taken there proved too small, so a larger one was acquired at Marengo Street, and it was here that the foundress lived until her death. It was in Marseilles that she met the saintly Bishop de Mazenod, the founder of the Oblates of Mary Immaculate, to whom reference has already been made. The help that this holy man gave to Mother Emilie was invaluable.

The arrival of the sisters in Marseilles is recorded by one of them as follows. “Never did we enjoy a meal better than the one we had the first evening, seated on the ground, in a room littered with boxes and trunks. The menu was a piece of bread and boiled potatoes. Each one deemed herself happy to share the poverty of Our Lord Who said to St. Peter, “Leave there your nets and follow Me.”

Mother Emilie wrote a little later, “We are very happy at Marseilles. The Bishop is good to us. He is a grand man. The spirit of the clergy is good and the inhabitants are well-disposed towards us. We have arranged things in the house and are comfortably lodged. I have four unoccupied rooms ready to open as classrooms. The Providence of God, Who assists me so powerfully, makes me feel that He wished us to come to Marseilles and that pupils will be forthcoming.”

The change of air greatly benefited the health of the foundress upon whom the strain of so much travelling and worry was visibly beginning to take its toll. Another sorrow, however, came to her. The only link with her dear mother was severed by the death of her cherished aunt, Mme. Lamourié. It was to this aunt, it will be recalled, that the dying mother had confided her three tiny children. How she had watched over their interests, rejoiced in their successes, grieved in their sorrows and how proud she was of her devoted and saintly niece

September, 1854, found the sisters in Oxford. This was the first opening in an English-speaking country. However, this foundation, owing to a very strong and bigoted Protestant element in the town and the attitude of the new parish priest, was shortlived, as Mother Emilie considered it wise to withdraw the sisters. This was a keen disappointment to her. It seems to be a peculiarity of the Congregation that it has always been invited to return to the very places it has had to abandon years earlier. So it was with Oxford. After a space of ninety-nine years, the sisters have returned and the foundation has rapidly advanced and is well established.

As a soothing balm to Mother Emilie’s disappointed spirit over the failure of Oxford, a call for sisters came from the most unexpected source. Dr. Serra, of Perth in Western Australia, approached the foundress and asked for sisters to work in the port of Fremantle where there were no nuns. Mother Emilie acceded to his request and appointed four brave young sisters to this distant mission field. They were Mother Julia, Sister Emilie, Sister Lucy and Sister Zoe. In January, 1855, the sisters accompanied by Bishop Serra left from London. The journey took four months. On 24th May, Feast of Our Lady Help of Christians, the sisters reached Fremantle. This anniversary is always celebrated with great solemnity by the sisters in Australia. The journey was full of hardships. The colony was but in its infancy and those who know the history of the early days of the settlement are able to appreciate the privations these gallant pioneers must have endured.

The first house occupied by the Sisters was invaded by swirling waters during the winter months, so the sisters had to seek shelter elsewhere until the rains subsided. Perhaps their greatest difficulty was their ignorance of the English tongue. Their only knowledge of the language of the colony was what they had acquired during the four months at sea. However, goodwill and perseverance surmounted all difficulties and, in July of the same year, they opened their first school. In 1856, two Irish sisters arrived. These were the last to receive their obediences from the Mother Foundress.

At Marseilles everything was flourishing. Bishop de Mazenod granted the sisters the privilege of Sunday Mass in their own chapel and he appointed a chaplain to the convent. Again His Grace showed his appreciation of the sisters, when he approved in the following words of the Statutes of the Congregation. “Having taken cognizance of the Statutes of the Congregation of the Sisters of St. Joseph of the Apparition, and having learned through experience that the said sisters, by their fidelity in fulfilling with zeal the ends of these Statutes, have, since the establishment of their community in the town of Marseilles, done the good that they propose and will do more by the development of their works and considering besides that these religious by their work in the foreign missions can render great service to France, we have approved the Statutes of the Sisters of St. Joseph of the Apparition.”

Mother Emilie earnestly desired to have the Congregation legalized according to civil law. She had tried to procure this legalization several times before, but there always seemed to be some obstacle in the way. No doubt, feeling that she did not have much longer to live, she wished to leave her sisters in security. This time after much negotiation she secured imperial approbation. This was signed at the Palace of St. Cloud, 17th October, 1855. The foundress was now overjoyed and had inserted in the four leading newspapers the following: “An imperial decree dated 17th October, 1855, has officially constituted the Association of the Sisters of St. Joseph, of the Apparition, whose Mother House is at 35 Marengo Street, Marseilles, a religious congregation recognized by law. The principal aim of this Congregation is devotion to teaching and to works of charity in foreign missions.” Mother Emilie hastened to convey the good news to all the houses of the Institute. These glad tidings brought untold joy to all.

Mother Emilie returned from Paris in 1858. Her sisters remarked that she did not look well and that she seemed very exhausted after the journey. Hence they were greatly alarmed. However, after a few days, she seemed to revive and the sisters’ hopes soared high. On Thursday, 20th August, she took the evening meal as usual with the community and, at the recreation that followed, she was her accustomed bright and happy self. After night prayers she retired to her room without anyone realizing how she felt. The next day she was seized with terrific abdominal pains and at once cholera was suspected. After hours of excessive vomiting, the trouble was diagnosed as a strangulated hernia. She had developed a hernia while still at home, when, one day she dragged a bag of corn to distribute to her dear poor. Although she suffered much from this all her life, she never complained of it and very few knew of her disability. Now it had reached its climax. The worn-out body could no longer support the strain.

Mother Emilie realized that her end was near so she asked for a priest and with child-like trust and simplicity received the Last Sacraments, surrounded by her sorrowing sisters. Her two nieces, the daughters of Augustine, who had lost their mother when they were babies, were in Marseilles at the time and so were summoned to their aunt’s death-bed.

Joyfully and peacefully the soul of the foundress winged its flight to its Creator. When the news of her death was circulated in the town, cries of “The Saint is dead,” rang out on all sides. There were also the pessimists who predicted the end of the Congregation now that Mother Emilie was no longer there.

The funeral took place on 26th August. From the Church of Our Lady of the Mount at Marseilles the mortal remains of this great woman were taken to the cemetery of St. Charles. Four years later they were transferred to the cemetery of St Peter. Now, except for the parts that are enclosed in reliquaries scattered over the globe, they are at the Mother House.

At the time of the foundress’s death, the sisters received condolences from far and near. Although she was only fifty-eight, she had accomplished much and above all she had sanctified herself. The good work she commenced is carried on by her daughters in four continents. Since her death there has been a great expansion of the works.

A short time after her death, the sisters were worried about the future of the Congregation so some of them approached the saintly Cure of Ars, St. John Vianney, who said, “Sisters, remain in peace; the Congregation of Mother de Vialar is the cherished flock of Jesus Christ and of your patron St. Joseph. The Congregation will not fail. On the contrary, it will extend far, for, my Sisters, you are called to do much good. You are poor like St. Joseph, your patron, who worked all his life to provide for the daily bread of the Holy Family.”

The world was to hear much more of Emilie de Vialar for on 18th June, 1939, she was beatified by the present Holy Father, who affixed the final seal to her sanctity when, on 24th June, 1951, he canonized her amidst the usual pomp and ceremony that accompanies this great event.

Nihil Obstat: D. P. MURPHY, Censor Deputatus

Imprimatur:

@ D. MANNIX,

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis. 19th October, 1954

********

A Scientist Finds God

ALEXIS CARREL

INDEX

Alexis Carrel was a medical scientist and author of international renown. Born in 1873 in Sainte Foy les Lyon, the son of Alexis Carrel, silk merchant, and Anne Ricard Carrel, studied medicine at the University of Lyons and later taught there. Early in life he won recognition because of his marvelous surgical skill.

In 1905, at the age of thirty-two, he joined the staff of the Rockefeller Institute for Research in New York City and in 1912 won the Nobel Prize for his feats in suturing blood vessels and the transplanting of organs. In 1931 he won the Nordhoff-Jung Cancer Prize. The writer had the honour of conferring upon him the Cardinal Newman Award for 1937 for his outstanding contributions to medical science.

With a chemist, Henry D. Dakin, Carrel perfected the famed Carrel-Dakin antiseptic solution for the treatment of infected wounds and was credited with the saving of the lives of thousands of wounded soldiers. France awarded him the Cross of the Legion of Honour. In 1913 he married Anne de la Motte, who had been his laboratory assistant.

In 1939, having reached the Rockefeller Institute age of retirement, Carrel continued as member emeritus his research in his private laboratory there. The following year he went to France to study the effects of cold and malnutrition on the young and to do what he could for the health of the people.

In 1935 he published Man the Unknown, which speedily became a best seller in this country and in France. It reflects his experiences, philosophy, and intuitions as a doctor and as a man. Just before his death in 1944 he published Prayer, a book on the influence of prayer, while Voyage to Lourdes and Reflections on Life were published posthumously. Like Dr. Cronin, he had drifted from the moorings of the ancient Faith in which he had been baptized, but returned to it as a result of study and prayer and died as a devout communicant. In this story he is the young doctor whom he calls Lerrac, which is Carrel spelled backward.

THE engine whistled. Pale, wasted faces stared from the train windows, and women dressed in white-apron uniforms waved their handkerchiefs. The train moved slowly out of the station and soon was rolling rapidly toward the south.

It was hot -the late May afternoon as oppressive as the most sultry day in July. On invitation from Abbe B., the priest in charge of the pilgrimage, young Dr. Lerrac settled down in the secondclass compartment marked “Management.”

Abbé B. was anxious about his sick. His face streamed with sweat as he bemoaned the fact that two of the pilgrims had apparently not had time to board the train.

“This is the twenty-fifth pilgrimage I have taken to Lourdes,” he said. “The Holy Virgin has always accorded us great favours. Out of every three hundred patients, some fifty or sixty always feel they have improved or been cured when they return.”

“And what about all those who hope for a cure and suffer the miseries of the long journey in vain?” asked Lerrac.

“You are reckoning without faith, my dear doctor,” replied Abbé B. “Those who are not cured come back comforted, and even if they die when they get home they are still happy!” A thick, knotty artery pulsed on the old priest’s temple, and he mopped his face with a checked handkerchief.

Young Dr. Louis Lerrac set to work classifying the few observations of the sick which he had been able to make before the pilgrimage got under way, and looking over the case histories of the rest, which Abbé B. had given him. He had welcomed this chance to take the place of the doctor who usually accompanied pilgrimages of the sick to Lourdes. As a faculty member of the University of Lyons Medical School, he had been attracted by the stories of the cures at Lourdes. Now he could check their authenticity.

Almost nothing was known, biologically speaking, of such phenomena. It was a mistake to deny anything on the basis of laws which themselves were scarcely understood. When such extraordinary cures were proclaimed as those attributed to Lourdes, it was perfectly simple to examine the facts objectively, as a patient was examined in a hospital or an experiment conducted in a laboratory. No such systematic study of the cures had ever been undertaken. Lerrac had decided to make the attempt. If the cures turned out to be only imaginary, he would be losing much time. If, on the other hand, there were definite results, no matter what caused them, this fact established scientifically might have considerable interest.

At six in the morning Lerrac went into the corridor to escape the stifling atmosphere of his compartment, where the prayers of the rosary were being monotonously reiterated by the other occupants. There he met a fat priest, Abbé P., the second in command of the pilgrimage. He, like Abbé B., seemed fully aware of the suffering of these stricken people in the bleak train.

“There is one young woman I was asked to look after specially,” Abbé P. told Lerrac. “I would be so grateful if you could take charge of her. She is so weak,” be added, “that I fear a disaster.”

Since the cars in which the sick were packed had no corridor the priest and Lerrac got out at the next station and went over to a third-class compartment. The door was open, but a mattress stretched across the benches completely blocked the entrance. On the mattress was lying a young girl, her face drawn and ashen, her lips drained of all colour. Her name was Marie Ferrand.

“I am suffering a great deal,” she said, “but I am happy I came. The Sisters did not want me to leave!”

“I shall come back to see you tonight,” said Lerrac. “Meanwhile, if the pain is worse, your nurse can fetch me and we’ll give you an injection to make you more comfortable.”

As Lerrac left with Abbé P., he said: “Your patient’s condition is not exactly hopeful. What do you do when someone dies on the journey?”

“It almost never happens,” the Abbé replied. “But when it does, the body is taken off at the next station. It is perfectly simple.”

All the people able to do so were stepping down from the cars now. One trained nurse and a number of student nurses had been assigned to each car, and several young nurses went back and forth on the platform, looking happy and pretty in their white apron uniforms. There were also peasants and country-folk, farm women with tanned, rather dazed faces. Many were carrying empty bottles, for holy water, and various small bundles. The pilgrimage was not unlike a vacation train, Lerrac thought; the predominating mood was one of buoyant gaiety.

The second night seemed very long. For all unfortunate people-for the sick who tremble and suffer, as well as for those who watch over them-three o‘clock in the morning, that hour just before day comes to banish night, is a time of fear, anguish and hopelessness.

When the train came into the next station, Mlle. d”O., the volunteer nurse who had been taking care of Marie Ferrand all night, sent in haste for Lerrac. “She looked agonized,” Mlle. d”O. told Lerrac, “each time the train came into a station and jolted to a stop I kept thinking she was going to faint and I didnot know what to do for her.”

Ferrand was lying on her mattress. Her face was green, and she was only partly conscious. The heat in the dimly lighted compartment was overwhelming. Lerrac lowered the window and the gusts of fresher air brought her completely to her senses.

“I shall never reach Lourdes,” she sighed in distress.

“We shall give you an injection,” said Lerrac, and the nurse drew up the sleeve from Marie Ferrand’s wasted arm. “in five minutes the pain will be gone. Meanwhile, let me have a look at your abdomen and put some laudanum on it.” Skilfully, the nurse laid bare Marie Ferrand’s distended belly.

The glistening skin was stretched tight and at the sides the ribs protruded sharply. The swelling was apparently caused by solid masses, and there was a pocket of fluid under the umbilicus. It was a classic case of tuberculous peritonitis. The legs were swollen, too. The temperature was above normal. Both the heartbeat and the breathing were accelerated.

Lerrac then verified what the nun who had brought Marie Ferrand to the train had told him: that Marie Ferrand’s parents had died of similar maladies, that Marie herself had been ill all her life. At seventeen she had a dry cough and spat blood; at eighteen she had a pleurisy, and fluid had been taken from the left lung. Although she had improved after that, she had never actually recovered; and eight months ago, when she entered the hospital, her abdomen began to swell, she ran a fever and the doctor diagnosed tuberculous peritonitis. A few days before the pilgrimage an operation had been considered, but the chief surgeon had felt her condition too precarious, and her family was told that her case was hopeless. She had been so determined to make the journey to Lourdes that consent had finally been given.

All this information fitted in exactly with Lerrac’s own observations. As he looked at the patient’s abdomen, he thought that an incision of an inch or two might be made just above the umbilicus, using cocaine as an anaesthetic. He told himself that, if she came back alive from Lourdes, he would suggest it.

The morphine had begun to take effect.

“I feel better,” Marie Ferrand murmured.

Unable to return to his own compartment till the train stopped, Lerrac sat down on the bench to wait.

It would soon be sunrise. The fields gave off a sweet smell, but that first fresh morning air did not penetrate the stale enclosed atmosphere in which the sick breathed so uneasily. Marie Ferrand, her face uptilted, was also breathing the fetid air. Her bluish eyelids were closed. The morphine seemed to have put her to sleep. The nurse watched her with obvious relief as she lay there so quietly.

The rosy rays of the sun, rising slowly above the line of green hills, fell on the doors of the car and then upon the sick girl’s face.

Birds had begun to sing. From the earth rose the fine smell of hay. Each detail of the landscape emerged more and more sharply in the dawning day. Against this heavenly beauty, the horrors of the trainload of sick crossing the triumphant countryside stood out in sharp relief. How much more pitiful became the poor face of that young girl, Marie Ferrand, the door of whose life were closing at the very threshold of maturity when contrasted with nature’s impassive serenity!

It was two o‘clock in the afternoon. The train was reaching its destination. The holy land, the city of miracles, the goal of this long and bitter journey-Lourdes itself-would soon appear in the radiant glory of the spring day. Above the rounded foothill of the Pyrenees, big white clouds hung motionless, and far in the distance a slender spire, delicate and pure, sprang into view through the mist.

The train came to a halt before entering the station. From every window pale faces looked out, alight with joy and exaltation, to greet the chosen land where their misfortunes were to vanish like smoke upon the wind. No one spoke. Everyone was gazing toward the basilica where each private prayer might be miraculously answered.

At the end of the train, a voice began to chant the sacred hymn:

“Ave maris stella

Dei mater alma . . .”

From car to car the prayer was taken up and burst from every throat. Through the babble of sound the shrill voices of children could be distinguished, and the loud hoarse voices of priests and the voices of the women.

This was no everyday song sung by choirs of chirping girls at a church service. It was the prayer of the Poor, hungering for the Bread of Life: In every car the tension gathered. The train jolted forward and, accompanied by this hymn of happiness and hope, slowly moved into the Lourdes station.

It was nearly noon when Louis Lerrac came out of the hotel and walked slowly down the street toward the great hospital building a few hundred yards away. Named for Our Lady of the Seven Sorrows, it was here that the sick, brought to Lourdes in the pilgrimage train, were now herded together. He soon reached the tall gateway that fenced off the hospital from the road. Beyond lay a vast courtyard, blazing in the sun’s heat like a desert.

S. M., chief of volunteers-the red ribbon of the high papal decoration in his buttonhole testifying to his devoted service-was standing at the entrance to the hospital, surrounded by a group of stretcher-bearers. Excitedly, anxiously, and with a look of rapture, he was giving orders to his men like a general before the attack.

At Lourdes the sick are looked after by volunteers from all ranks of society who come there every year to spend a few weeks ministering to the patients. Their task is exhausting but they perform it with the utmost devotion. Among the volunteers Lerrac had found a former classmate, A. B., who was one of the stretcher-bearers waiting now on the hospital steps. Lerrac asked him: “What time do they take the patients to the pools?”

“We start at about half past one,” A. B. replied.

“Well, it’s not quite twelve now,” Lerrac said. “There’s plenty of time. Let’s go for a little walk.”

Together they went along the empty, sunlit street until they came to a small café nestled in the peaceful shadows of a high stone wall. Here they stopped and ordered coffee. A. B. asked for ink and paper and began a letter to his young wife back in Paris.

Lerrac leaned back against the wall and studied his friend’s face. It was so surprising that a young man of the world like A. B. had been willing to travel third class with all those revolting, helpless invalids, to devote himself unremittingly to their care, to pull one of those little carts for the sick through the public streets, while saying prayers out loud. Maybe it was because his young wife was expecting a child. Probably she had sent him to Lourdes to invoke the Virgin’s blessing on it. No doubt that was why he had accepted this painful task. Yet A. B.”s faith was obviously unquestioning, like that of a small child.

Lerrac pondered how differently he himself had developed, despite the fact that he and A. B. were products of the same school, had received the same religious education. Absorbed in his scientific studies, Lerrac had been strongly attracted by the German system of critical analysis. His religious ideas, ground down by the analytic process, had finally been destroyed, leaving him only a lovely memory of a delicate and beautiful dream. He had then taken refuge in tolerant scepticism. Rationalism completely satisfied his mind, but in the depths of his heart a secret pain lay hidden-a feeling of being compressed in too narrow a space, an unassuaged thirst for certainty, rest and love. He had learned so little, he reflected, and it had cost him much of the beauty stored within him. Truth, he thought to himself, was always a sad and bitter thing. He was an unhappy man.

Turning to A. B., who had finished his letter, be asked: “Do you know if any patients were cured at the pools this morning?”

“No,” A. B. answered. “But I saw a miracle at the Grotto. An old nun who, as a result of a sprain six months ago, had developed an incurable disease in her foot. She was cured and threw aside her crutches.”

Lerrac rapidly scanned the pages of his notebook. “Isn’t that the nun called Sister D., who was a nurse, at the Hotel Dieu in Lyons?” he asked.

“Yes, that’s the one,” said A. B.

“Well, her cure is an interesting example of autosuggestion,” said Lerrac. “She happens to be one of the patients I examined. Her sprained foot was completely well, but the good Sister persuaded herself that she would never walk normally again. She had become neurasthenic. She came to Lourdes and she was cured. What could be more natural?”

“But how do you explain that Lourdes succeeded in curing her, when other treatments failed?”

“Because,” answered Lerrac, “there is an incredible power of suggestion in a pilgrimage. A crowd, exalted and united by prayer, can have tremendous effect on the nervous system but absolutely no effect on organic disease.

“I myself saw the tragic aftermath of a failure this very morning,” continued Lerrac, and described a father’s over- whelming disappointment when his ten-yearold boy afflicted with a malignant growth failed to react to the “miracle waters.”

“You see,” Lerrac concluded, “Lourdes is powerless against organic disease.”

“Just the same,” A. B. replied, “I assure you that real organic diseases, such as tumours, can disappear. But you cannot believe it, because you are convinced that miracles are impossible. Yet it lies entirely within God’s power to suspend the laws of nature, since it was He Himself who created them.”

“Of course,” said Lerrac, “if God exists, miracles are possible. But does God exist, objectively? How am I to know? All I can say is that no miracle has ever yet been scientifically observed. To the scientific mind a miracle is an absurdity.”

“What kind of disease would you have to see cured,” asked A. B., “to convince you that miracles exist?”

“I would have to see an organic disease cured,” replied Lerrac; “a leg growing back after amputation, a cancer disappearing, a congenital dislocation suddenly vanishing.”

“If you were present when a new leg grew back after an amputation,” said A. B., “you would be very much put out; all your theories would be overthrown.”

.”If I should ever see such a phenomenon,” Lerrac answered, “I would willingly throw overboard all the theories and hypotheses in the world. But there is little danger. My one purpose in coming here is to record what I see with all possible accuracy.

“I propose to be entirely objective,” he went on, “and I assure you that, if I actually saw one single wound close and heal before my eyes, I would either become a fanatic believer or go mad. However, that is not very likely, because I have had a chance to examine only a few patients with organic diseases. The others suffer from nervous paralyses and traumatic hysterias. Patients of this kind might easily be cured, or at least improved. But there is one patient,” Lerrac went on, “who is closer to death than any of the others. Her name is Marie Ferrand. If such a case as hers were cured, it would indeed be a miracle. I would never doubt again.

“In Lourdes, all the laws of nature are constantly turned upside down,” said A. B. “I myself am convinced that the girl you speak of could be cured. But it’s one o‘clock. We must go back.”

“At two,” Lerrac said, “I am to see Marie Ferrand again. Her condition is steadily deteriorating. If she gets home again alive, that in itself will be a miracle. Come along with me and have a look at her.”

The air in the ward of the Immaculate Conception, reserved for the most serious cases, was heavy with the nauseous odour of disinfectant. About twenty beds were lined up along the whitewashed walls. Some patients sat up on chairs, others lay on their beds fully dressed. They were waiting to be taken to the pools. Lerrac and A. B. walked past them in silence and went over to the bedside of the girl, Marie Ferrand. The Mother Superior was there, and Mlle. d”O., the volunteer nurse.

“Doctor,” she said, “we’ve been waiting for you anxiously. She can hardly speak. I”m afraid she is sinking fast.”

Lerrac leaned over the bed and studied Marie Ferrand. Her head, with its white, emaciated face, was flung back on the pillow. Her wasted arms lay flat at her sides. Her breathing was rapid and shallow.

“How are you feeling?” Lerrac asked her, gently.

She turned her dim, dark-circled eyes toward him and her grey lips moved in an inaudible reply.

Taking her hand, Lerrac put his fingertips on her wrist. Her pulse was excessively rapid and irregular. Her heart was giving out. “Get me the hypodermic syringe,” he told the nurse. We’ll give her an injection of caffeine.”

Pulling back the covers, the nurse removed the cradle that held up the bedclothes and the rubber ice bag which hung over the patient’s abdomen. Marie Ferrand’s emaciated body lay exposed again, her abdomen distended as before. The solid masses were still there; at the centre, under the umbilicus, he could still feel the fluid. As the caffeine entered her thin thigh, Marie Ferrand’s face contracted suddenly.

Lerrac turned to A. B. “It’s just what I told you,” he said; “advanced tuberculous peritonitis. She may last a few days more, but she is doomed. Death is very near.”

As Lerrac turned to leave, the nurse stopped him. “Doctor, is it all right to take Marie Ferrand to the pool?”

Lerrac looked at her in amazement. “What if she dies on the way?” he asked.

“She is absolutely determined to be bathed. She came all the way for this.”

At that moment, Dr. J., who practised in a town outside Bordeaux and had accompanied his own patients to Lourdes entered the ward. Lerrac asked his opinion about having Marie Ferrand carried to the pool. Once again the covers were removed and Dr. J. examined Marie Ferrand. “She’s at the point of death,” he said finally in a low voice. “She might very well die at the Grotto.”

“You see, mademoiselle,” said Lerrac, “how imprudent it would be to take this patient to the pool. However, I have no authority here; I cannot give permission, or refuse it.”

“The girl has nothing to lose,” said the Mother Superior It would be cruel to deprive her of the supreme happiness of being taken to the Grotto, though I fear she may not live to reachit. We shall take her there now, in a few minutes.”

“I will be at the pool myself, in any case,” said Lerrac. “If she goes into a coma, send for me.”

“She will certainly die,” Dr. J. repeated as they left the ward. It was nearing two o‘clock when Lerrac approached the pools, but the patients had not yet arrived. By the gushing cold waters of the turbulent stream, and surrounded by huge plane trees stood the blue painted buildings where the sick were bathed. The semicircle set apart for the stretchers and carts of the patients was separated from the crowds of pilgrims by an iron fence.

Lerrac went in and sat down on a bench near the door of the women’s pool. All around was coolness, joy and peace. With pleasure he absorbed the strange charm of this Lourdes where so many horrors were gathered and exposed in an ineffably tender light.

A group of pilgrims appeared. A. B., with another volunteer, was carrying a stretcher. On it lay Marie Ferrand. Over the deathly mask of her face Mlle. d”O. was holding a white parasol. The sight of such misery, commonplace in any hospital, made a shocking impression outdoors where each detail was so clearly etched.

For a moment, before going to the pool, they lowered the stretcher to the ground. The sick girl was apparently unconscious. Lerrac put his hand on her wrist. Her pulse was more rapid than ever, her face ashen. It was obvious that this young girl was about to die. He wondered how it would affect the pilgrims if she died in the pool. What would they think of miracles then?

The church clock struck two. Groups of little carts drawn by the stretcher-bearers were approaching, followed by more and more pilgrims. Formerly, Lerrac had been moved by the sights and sounds of suffering, but now, as he looked at all these tragic people and saw the steadfast faith in their faces, he experienced a strange, new emotion.

Like so many of these afflicted, Marie Ferrand was not really as unhappy as she seemed. This was because she put her whole soul and all her hope in Christ. The death of a believer, Lerrac told himself, was a peaceful death. To every sufferer He offered the solace of eternity. Ah, how much wiser to believe in it! A longing now swept over Lerrac to believe, with these unhappy people among whom he found himself. He was praying, now, praying for Marie Ferrand who had suffered so unendurably; he was asking the Virgin Mary to restore her to life, and himself to faith

Lerrac’s exaltation did not last. He forced himself back into the safe paths of methodical scientific investigations and determined to be completely objective. He knew that Marie Ferrand was incurable, that recovery from advanced tuberculous peritonitis was impossible. However, Lerrac kept his detachment and was prepared to accept the evidence of any phenomenon he might observe himself.

The sick were still crowding into the enclosure, and by now all the cases from the hospital ward had arrived and were lying on the ground. All of them showed a great serenity. S. M., the chief of the volunteers and self-constituted master of ceremonies; came bustling up, and ordered his band to even up the line of stretchers. Then a young priest took his place, standing before the stretchers. The time had come for the solemn litany. Beyond the benches a rippling mass of white faces, hatless heads, reached to the edge of the stream.

Lerrac saw Marie Ferrand carried past. He hurried over to her.

Her condition was unchanged; the shrunken form under the blanket still had the same distended abdomen.

“We could only pour some of the water on her abdomen,” said Mlle. d”O. “They did not dare to immerse her. Now we are taking herto the Massabielle Grotto.”

“I”11 join you in a moment,” said Lerrac. “1 see no change. If you need me, send for me.”

Lerrac turned back to the enclosure. The priest was kneeling down, facing the line of patients and the crowds beyond. He lifted his arms and held them out like a cross. “Holy Virgin, heal our sick,” he cried out, his mouth twisted with emotion.

“Holy Virgin, heal our sick,” the crowd responded with a cry like the rolling of waves.

“Holy Virgin,” intoned the priest, “hear our prayers!”

“Jesus, we love Thee! Jesus, we love Thee!”

The voice of the crowd thundered on. Here and there, people held out their arms. The sick half-raised themselves on their stretchers. The atmosphere was tense with expectancy.

Then the priest stood up. “My brothers, let us lift our arms in prayer!” he called.

A forest of arms was raised. A wind seemed to blow through the crowd; intangible, silent, powerful, irresistible, it swept over the people, lashing them, like a mountain storm. Lerrac felt its impact. It was impossible to describe, but it caught his throat and sent a tremor along his spine. Suddenly ,he wanted to cry. If a strong, healthy man could be carried away, what must be the effect on sick and suffering people in all their weakness?

He walked past the lines of little carts and through the crowd toward the Grotto. Pausing for a moment at the edge of the stream, he observed the crowd; A young intern from Bordeaux, Mr. M., whom Lerrac had met the day before, greeted him.

Have you had any cures?” Lerrac asked.

“No,” replied M. “A few of the hysteria cases have recovered, but there had been nothing unexpected, nothing that one can’t see any day in a hospital.”

“Come and look at my patient,” said Lerrac. “Her case is not unusual, but I think she is dying. She is at the Grotto.”

“I saw her a few minutes ago,” said M. “What a pity they let her come to Lourdes.”

It was now about half past two. Beneath the rock of Massabielle, the Grotto glittered in the light of its thousand candles. Beyond the high iron grille was a statue of the Virgin, standing in the hollowed rock where Bernadette once saw the glowing vision of the lady in white, the Immaculate Conception. In front of the iron grille and almost touching it, a stretcher was already lying. Beside it, Lerrac recognized the slender figure of Marie Ferrand’s nurse. He and M. made their way through the crowd and, stopping near Marie Ferrand’s stretcher, leaned against the low wall, She was motionless, her breathing still rapid and shallow; she seemed to be at the point of death. More pilgrims were approaching the Grotto. Volunteers and stretcher-bearers came crowding in. The little carts were being wheeled from the pools to the Grotto.

Lerrac glanced again at Marie Ferrand, Suddenly he stared. It seemed to him that there had been a change, that the harsh shadows on her face had disappeared, that her skin was somehow less ashen. Surely, he thought, this was an hallucination. But the hallucination itself was interesting psychologically; hastily he jotted down the time in his notebook. It was twenty minutes before three. But if the change in Marie Ferrand was an hallucination, it was the first one Lerrac had ever had. He turned to M. “Look at our patient again,” he said. “Does it seem to you that she has rallied a little?”

“She looks much the same to me,” answered M. “All I can see is that she is no worse.”

Leaning over the stretcher, Lerrac took her pulse again and listened to her breathing. “The respiration is less rapid,” he told M, after a moment.

“That may mean that she is about to die,” said M.

Lerrac made no reply. To him it was obvious that there was a sudden improvement of her general condition. Something was taking place. He stiffened to resist a tremor of emotion, and concentrated all his powers of observation on Marie Ferrand. He did not lift his eyes from her face. A priest was preaching to the assembled throngs of pilgrims and patients; hymns and prayers burst out sporadically; and in this atmosphere of fervour, under Lerrac’s cool, objective gaze, the face of Marie Ferrand slowly continued to change. Her eyes, so dim before, were now wide with ecstasy as she turned them toward the Grotto. The change was undeniable. The nurse leaned over and held her. Suddenly, Lerrac felt himself turning pale. The blanket which covered Marie Ferrand’s distended abdomen was gradually flattening out. “Look at her abdomen!” he exclaimed to M.

M. looked. “Why yes,” he said, “it seems to have gone down. It’s probably the folds in the blanket that give that impression.”

The bell of the basilica had just struck three. A few minutes later, there was no longer any sign of distension in the girl’s abdomen.

Lerrac felt as though he were going mad.

Standing beside Marie Ferrand, he watched the intake of her breath and the pulsing at her throat with fascination. The heartbeat, though still very rapid, had become regular.

“How do you feel?” he asked her.

“I feel very well,” she answered in a low voice. “I am still weak, but I feel I am cured.”

There was no longer any doubt: Marie Ferrand’s condition was improving so much that she was scarcely recognizable.

Lerrac stood there in silence, profoundly troubled, unable to analyse what he beheld. This event, exactly the opposite of what he had expected, must surely be nothing but a dream.

Mlle. d”O. offered Marie Ferrand a cup of milk. She drank it all. In a few minutes she raised her head, looked around, moved her limbs a little, then turned over on her side, without having shown the least sign of pain.

Abruptly, Lerrac moved off. Making his way through the crowd of pilgrims whose loud prayers he hardly heard, he left the Grotto. It was now about four o‘clock. He had not yet examined her; he could not yet know the real condition of her lesions. But he had seen with his own eyes a functional improvement which was in itself a miracle. How simple, how private, it had been! The crowd at the Grotto was not even aware that it had happened.

A dying girl was recovering.

It was the resurrection of the dead; it was a miracle!

Lerrac went back to his hotel, forbidding himself to draw any conclusions until he could find out exactly what had happened. Yet a profound feeling of happiness welled up in him at the thought that his journey had borne fruit. He went over Marie Ferrand’s case in his mind and told himself that, with such absolutely unmistakable symptoms as hers, he could not possibly have made a false diagnosis. Yet he was extremely anxious.

At half past seven he started for the hospital, tense and on fire with curiosity. One question alone filled his mind: Had the incurable Marie Ferrand been cured?

Opening the door of the ward of the Immaculate Conception, he hastened across the room to her bedside. With mute astonishment, he stood and gazed. The change was overpowering. Marie Ferrand, in a white jacket, was sitting up in bed. Though her face was still grey and emaciated, it was alight with life; her eyes shone; a faint colour tinged her cheeks. Such an indescribable serenity emanated from her person that it seemed to illuminate the whole sad ward with joy. “Doctor,” she said, “I am completely cured. I feel very weak, but I think I could even walk.”

Lerrac put his hand on her wrist. The pulse beat was calm and regular. Her respiration had also become completely normal. Confusion flooded Lerrac’s mind. Was this merely an apparent cure, the result of a violent stimulus of autosuggestion? Or was it a new fact, an astounding, unacceptable event-a miracle? For a brief moment, before subjecting Marie Ferrand to the supreme test of examining her abdomen, Lerrac hesitated. Then, torn between hope and fear, he threw back the blanket. The skin was smooth and white. Above the narrow hips was the small, flat slightly concave abdomen of a young, undernourished girl. Lightly, he put his hands on the wall of the abdomen, looking for traces of the distension and the hard masses he had found before. They had vanished like a bad dream.

The sweat broke out on Lerrac’s forehead. He felt as though someone had struck him on the head. His heart began to pump furiously. He held himself in with iron determination.

He had not heard Doctor J. and M. entering the ward.

Suddenly he noticed them, standing beside him. “She seems to be cured,” he said then. “I cannot find anything wrong. Please examine her yourselves.”

While his two colleagues carefully palpated Marie Ferrand’s abdomen, Lerrac stood aside and watched them with shining eyes. There could be no doubt whatever that the girl was cured.

It was a miracle, the kind of miracle which took the public by storm and sent them in hordes to Lourdes. And the public was justified in its enthusiasm. Whatever the source of these cures, the results were not only breath-taking but positive and good. Again it swept over Lerrac how fortunate he was, that among all the patients at Lourdes that day it was one he had known and studied carefully whom he saw cured!

Now Lerrac was himself involved in the everlasting controversy over miracles. So much the better, he decided. No matter what came of it, he would carry through the investigation as objectively as though he were completing an experiment on a dog. He would continue to be an accurate recording instrument. Turning to M., who was still palpating Marie Ferrand’s abdomen, Lerrac asked if he found any symptoms.

“None whatsoever,” M. replied. “But I want to listen to her breathing.”

He laid his ear on Marie Ferrand’s chest. At the same time Dr. J. was counting her pulse, and a Dr. C., an Italian, was also watching the examination. At the head of her bed stood Mlle d”O. By now there was quite a crowd around the bed. No one spoke.

Marie Ferrand, probed, palpated, kneaded and pressed, was radiant. Everyone felt her unspoken joy. Peace and serenity seemed to flood the room. At last the two doctors had finished their examination.

“She is cured,” said Dr. J., deeply moved.

“I find nothing,” said M. “Her respiration is normal. She is well. She can get up.”

“There is no explanation for this cure,” said Dr. J.

Lerrac was silent. He did not know what to say. He no longer knew what to think. He had no explanation to offer. But the search for explanations was unimportant in the face of this girl’s happiness. She had been reclaimed from her misery, she had been restored to light, freedom, love-to life itself! This was the real, the blessed achievement; this was the miraculous fact.

“What will you do,” Lerrac asked Marie Ferrand, “now that you feel you are cured?”

“I shall join the Sisters of St. Vincent de Paul and nurse the sick,” she answered.

To hide his emotion, Lerrac left the room.

After examining a few more patients, Lerrac went out into the street. Night had fallen. At the end of the street, the basilica loomed up against the sky, an unbroken chain of lights leading up to the main entrance. A torchlight procession of pilgrims made a luminous serpentine as it wound its way along the esplanade.

From every direction rose the full-throated, discordant voices of the vast crowd, chanting the Lourdes hymn, with its Ave, Ave, Ave repeated over and over again.

As he hurried through the crowds, toward the edge of the stream where he could take refuge, Lerrac found that he no longer wanted to smile at the pilgrims” childlike, fantastic hopes. All he had ever believed was turned upside down. The wildly improbable had become a simple fact. The dying were cured in a few hours. These pilgrimages had a power of their own and brought results; above all, they taught humility.

At last Lerrac was alone by the stream. For a long time he sat and watched the Grotto, with its thousands of candles which flickered in the darkness and shed a red glow on the surroundings. He stared at the statue of the Virgin and, farther down in the shadows, the rows of copper faucets from which flowed the miraculous water, the spring water gushing out from the rock. It was the direct agent for the cures-and this Lerrac still could not believe.

Midnight came, and as the moon rose from behind the hill Lerrac was still at the Grotto-nothing but a solitary, troubled human being, wrestling in the darkness with the scientific doubts and questionings he had tried to quell. How was he to explain the cures of Lourdes?

There was no denying that it was distressingly unpleasant to be personally involved in a miracle. Most doctors were so fearful for their own prestige that even when they had been to Lourdes and seen for themselves, they did not dare admit it. Most of them still believed that there was nothing but charlatanism in Lourdes. They were afraid that if they showed any interest they would be taken for bigots or fools.

Though Lerrac himself was embarrassed at being involved in a miracle, he was far too proud to evade his responsibility. He determined to follow it through, no matter what it might cost him. He had no idea where it would lead him. But he felt an imperious need to find the answer, the explanation for these inexplicable facts. The natural phenomena, the laws of life, were for the most part still cloaked in mystery. Perhaps a vast crowd united in fervent prayer could release a natural force, not yet understood, which in itself had undreamed-of therapeutic value. It was not so long ago that the existence of telepathy had seemed miraculous. And before thunder and lightning were found to be natural phenomena, men had mistaken them for the expression of God’s wrath. It was therefore possible that there existed natural laws, as yet unknown to men, which would explain such mysterious phenomena as the Lourdes cures.

It was possible. But how profoundly bitter it was not to know for sure! Deeply absorbed, Lerrac now paced up and down the great walled terrace at the entrance to the basilica. The hush of an infinite peace hung over the countryside. The conflict in Lerrac’s soul went on. Lerrac could neither prove the existence of God nor yet deny it. He wondered how great men like Pasteur had managed to reconcile their faith in science with their religion. Perhaps science and religion each had a system of its own.

When a scientist tried to apply his intellectual techniques and convictions to metaphysics, he was lost. He could no longer use his reasoning, since reason did not go beyond the establishing of facts and their relations to each other. In the search for causes, there was nothing absolute, there were no signposts along the way, there was no proof of right or wrong. All things in this mysterious realm were therefore possible. Intellectual systems no longer seemed to count. In the face of life and death, mere theories were void. It was not science that nourished the inner life of man; it was the faith of the soul. He had to reach a conclusion. He was certain of his diagnosis. It was incontestable that a miracle had taken place. But was it the hand of God? Someday he would know. Meanwhile, it was safe to say it was a cure; that much he could guarantee. Yet deep within himself, he felt that was not all. .

He climbed the steps of the church in the glitter of lights while the organ boomed and a thousand voices chanted. He sat down on a chair at the back near an old peasant. For a long time he sat there motionless, his hands over his face, listening to the hymns, Then he found himself praying. . . . . .”I believe in Thee. Thou didst answer my prayers by a blazing miracle. I am still blind to it, I still doubt. But the greatest desire of my life is to believe, to believe passionately, implicitly, and never more to analyse and doubt. . . . .Beneath the deep, harsh warnings of my intellectual pride a smothered dream persists. Alas, it is still only a dream but the most enchanting of them all. It is the dream of believing in Thee and of loving Thee with the shining spirit of the men of God.”

Slowly, Lerrac walked down the long avenues in the peaceful night, absorbed in his prayer. He scarcely felt the fresh night air. Back in his hotel room again, it seemed to him as though weeks had gone by since he had left it. He took the big green notebook from his bag and sat down to write his observations on the final events of the day.

By now it was three o‘clock. A pale light in the east was already breaking through the depths of the night sky. A new coolness penetrated from the open window. He felt the serenity of nature entering his soul with gentle calm. All preoccupations with daily life, hypotheses, theories and intellectual doubts had vanished It seemed to him that he held certitude. He thought he could feel its wonderful appeasing peace. He felt it so deeply that he was no longer troubled; he banished all threat of encroaching doubts.

In the ineffable beauty of the dawn, Lerrac slept.

********

A Short Life of Our Lord

BY THE MOST REV. ALBAN GOODIER, S.J

INDEX

PREFACE

Whatever other writers may have added to or subtracted from the life of Our Lord, the real evidence, both for Jesus Christ Himself and for the life He lived, is contained in the four Gospels: Matthew, Mark, Luke and John. Scholars of the present day, even non-Christian scholars, have acknowledged their authenticity as historical documents; they have gone so far as to say that anyone who does not acknowledge them as authentic puts himself outside the range of true scholarship. Therefore, in putting together a Life of Christ we must rely on these four authors, knowing well that when we deviate from them we are tending to invent a Christ of our own instead of the Christ Who actually lived and died upon this earth.

St. Matthew’s gospel was written for the Hellen istic Jews of Jerusalem, who were unwilling to accept the new faith. On that account we find him with his eyes dwelling constantly on the Old Law and the Old Testament, making it clear that Christ Our Lord fulfilled in Himself the Law and the Prophets and was the Founder of the new Law and a new Dispensation. His Gospel, as we now have it, must have been written before the year 70, though it may be that our present Gospel was preceded by an earlier original in the Aramaic language spoken by the Jews of this time.

The Gospel of St. Mark may well be called the Gospel of St. Peter, for it is assumed by scholars to be little else but the Gospel as preached by St. Peter and taken down by his secretary, St. Mark. Its date seems certainly before the year 60; it is more brief than the Gospel of St. Matthew; but more vivid, and is characterized by allusions to Simon Peter.

The Gospel of St. Luke was evidently written before the Acts of the Apostles were completed, not latter than the year 60. St. Luke writes, as he tells us himself, more as an historian than any of the other three. He has gone in search of original evidence for what he has to say, and much of his Gospel gives proof that he made use of original sources.

The Gospel of St. John stands altogether apart front the other three. The Apostle wrote in his old age between the years 90 and 100. He does not attempt a life, even in the limited sense in which St. Matthew and St. Luke attempt it. He relates only a certain number of important incidents; but for the rest he is occupied with the greater controversies, especially those which occurred in Jerusalem. The three first Evangelists describe for the most part the life in Galilee; St. John is more concerned with Judaea; the three first run more or less parallel, and recount often the same events; St. John usually, though not always, has his own narrative to relate.

Since none of the Evangelists intended to write a life like a biography in our modern sense of the word, and since they wrote independently of each other, even though it is evident that they used the same documents and, perhaps, even each other’s work, it is not always easy to be sure in what order the events they relate took place. Nevertheless, after much study, there is a common agreement amongst scholars about by far the greater part of Our Lord’s life; for the rest, the doubt that exists is of very little importance. For, after all, it is not the mere history of Christ our Lord that we look for in the Gospels, but the portrait of the Person Himself, and this we believe to be consistent and clear and living to anyone who approaches the Gospels with sympathy and understanding.

In the little book here written, while an attempt is made to keep to historic facts and order, nevertheless, it is hoped still more that Our Lord Himself will be revealed in them.

CHAPTER I

INTRODUCTION

IT is almost impossible to understand the life of Christ our Lord without having some idea of all that went before it. When man fell and was punished for his fall, he was also promised a Redeemer, and the hope engendered by that promise never perished from the memory of succeeding ages. Not only did it live amongst the Jews themselves, but pagan nations, as we call them, kept it alive, however distorted and corrupted the tradition became amongst them.

THE CHOSEN PEOPLE

But while the rest of men were suffered to wander according to their own devices, one people were chosen and protected by God so that it never lost the idea of the One True God, Creator of the world, or the living hope in the Redeemer that was to come. This people was set apart; its history stands alone among the histories of the nations around it; however it failed politically and spiritually, nevertheless, by means of a power obviously outside it, it was preserved and kept, the holder of the great expectation. God sent to this people prophets one after another to defend it from the idolatry around it; to remind it of the Messiah Who was to come; to give it even more distinct signs by which that Messiah would be known when He did come. As time went on, this promise became more and more ingrained in the people who inherited it, so that one might say their whole religious life was built up upon their faith in its future fulfilment. When Christ our Lord came into the world the atmosphere, so to speak, of Judaea was thick with the expectation of the Saviour of the world, Who would soon appear in the midst of the Jewish people.

This people had a long and strange history. Two thousand years or so before it had sprung from a Chaldean called Abraham; at least twelve hundred years before it had been rescued from exile in Egypt by its great prophet, Moses. After this time it had occupied and settled in Palestine, and a thousand years or more before a kingdom had been founded in the royal house of David and his son, Solomon. After that time it had broken in two, the kingdom of Israel in the North and the kingdom of Judah in the South; and these in their turn had succumbed to invasion from the North. The mass of the people had been carried off into exile, and one might have thought that in this way the nation had utterly perished as others had done before it. But even close on a hundred years of exile failed to destroy the consciousness of its message to the world, which it had inherited from its forefathers. In course of time two tribes were permitted to return to their ancient land, and from them the nation of the Jews again began to revive. Prophets came back to them, and in the course of centuries the Jewish race regained once more a distinct national identity of its own, which was sealed and made permanent under the government of the Machabees. This was some time before the birth of Christ. (163 B.C.) In course of time Palestine, like the rest of the known world, was absorbed by the Roman Empire, and when Our Lord came into the world it was ruled under appointment from Rome by an Idumaean King named Herod.

UNSWERVING BELIEF

During these centuries of political success and failure, destruction and revival, the one untiring and life-giving force was the unswerving belief, first in the One God as opposed to all the multitudinous beliefs around them, and, second, in the Messiah that was to come, and come from themselves. He was to be of the House of David the King; He was to be born in the city of David, Bethlehem; He was to inherit the Kingdom of David; He was to be the Lord, in some way, of all the world. But though this conviction never died, it was not always preserved in its simplicity, and though this belief was the source of union, national unity was preserved by the fulfilment of the law of Moses. Thus it came about that, first, the promised Messiah began to be looked upon as a material King, Who would one day lead the armies of Judah to the conquest of the world; on the other hand, the law of Moses became more important than the spirit of the Messiah which underlay it. Hence, there arose amongst the Jews certain sects and divisions which were prominent in the lifetime of Christ our Lord, and which, therefore, need to be distinguished one from another.

THE SECTS

For instance, there were the Pharisees: these were extreme Nationalists, they were enemies of all foreigners; they made of the Jewish religion a matter of excessive ceremonial and ritual. If these ceremonials were strictly carried out according to their instructions, that was the sign of a good and faithful Jew, whatever else might be said against him; if they were not, it was a sign that the man was no true son of Abraham.

Next we hear of the Scribes; these, for the most part, were also Pharisees. Their official position was to interpret the law of Moses, and under this pretext they became, as it were, the spiritual directors of the nation, telling the people what they might do and what they might not do, not so much with regard to the commandments as with regard to the fulfilment of the law.

There were also Sadducees, of whom, for instance, the High Priest Annas was one. This sect was the opposite to the Pharisees, and might also be called their enemy. Many of the Priests and the Jewish aristocracy belonged to it; indeed, they considered themselves a kind of high caste amongst the Jewish people. They were far more pliant to the rule of the foreigner; they were inclined to believe in nothing; they interpreted the law according to the letter, and would go no further; they had no belief in another world; altogether, one might consider them the agnostics of their generation.

Fourthly, there were the Herodians, of whom we hear most in Galilee. These, as far as we can see, were the political partisans of the House of Herod.

Among all these different sects it is to be remembered that the coming of the Messiah was a fervent belief. However variously they interpreted it, nevertheless, they did not deny it, and it is to be noticed in the life of Our Lord, as given by the four Evangelists, that it is not so much the fact of His claim to which they object as to the fact that His claim implied a different Messiah from the one they had expected.

CHAPTER II

THE FIRST PHASE: FOUNDATIONS

1. TO THE BEGINNING OF THE PUBLIC LIFE. IN A SHORT LIFE SUCH AS THE PRESENT, IT IS NOT NECESSARY TO DWELL UPON THE HIDDEN LIFE OF JESUS

THE HIDDEN LIFE

We know of the Annunciation, made to the espoused Virgin Mary at Nazareth, after which followed the Incarnation of the Son of God; of the Visitation of Mary to her cousin, Elizabeth, mother of John the Baptist, and of all that happened there; of the census ordered by the Roman Caesar, (Tiberius), which compelled Mary and Joseph to go to Bethlehem, a five days” journey from Nazareth, and the birth of Jesus there; of the Presentation in the Temple, and the prophecy of Simeon; of the coming of the Wise Men from the East, and the Flight of the Holy Family into Egypt. We know that when Herod, the King of Palestine, was dead the Family was ordered to return; that its steps were directed back to Nazareth and there it took up its abode; that for close on thirty years Jesus lived there, the reputed son of the village carpenter or blacksmith, and Himself following the trade. Only once was there an interruption in the long silence; when the boy was twelve years of age, the age when a Jewish boy became “a son of the Law,” the family went up to Jerusalem, and He remained there, and for three days was lost to His Mother and Joseph, being “about His Father’s business.” It was the year when a boy chose his career in life, and this was the choice of Jesus.

JOHN THE BAPTIST

Let us rather pass on to the more public career of Our Lord as the Gospels have told it to us. It begins with John the Baptist, the son of Elizabeth, and therefore closely related to Jesus, though there is no evidence they met in their youth. On the contrary, John, from his earlier days, had lived the life of a hermit, in the desert places not far from Jerusalem. On a sudden, when he was about thirty years of age, he changed his whole life. He came out of the desert; he stood on the highroad that led across the Jordan, along which all the traffic of the East had to pass. He began to preach to all the passers-by; that a new kingdom was about to be founded, and a King was coming to found it; that he was the herald sent to announce the King; that in preparation for His coming there was need for penance and purity of life. That those who heard him might also show they responded to his call, he instituted the ceremony of baptism in the Jordan, by whose banks he preached; and many came, of all classes and conditions, believing in this strange man sent by God, and preparing for the advent of the King whom he announced.

One day, when he was preaching as usual, there stood on the edge of the crowd a young Galilean from Nazareth. When the sermon was over, crowds went into the water to be baptized, and this young Man followed, the last of them all. As soon as he stood before the Baptist, John recognized Him; he protested against baptizing such a One, but the young man insisted; as soon as He came out of the water, and began to pray, a dove was seen by John to hover over His head, and a voice was heard: “This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased.” It was the sign for which John had been waiting; now he knew that the King had come, and his mission was not only to foretell Him, but to show Him to others. One day, about six weeks later, [Footnote: These six weeks Jesus had spent in the desert, where He fasted forty days and was tempted by the devil.] when the young man from Nazareth was seen walking alone down the bank of the river, John pointed to Him, and said to a fewof his followers who stood around him: “Behold the Lamb of God, behold Him Who takes away the sins of the world.” (see John 1:29)

This he did a second time, when Jesus, for the Young Man from Nazareth was He, was again walking alone along the river bank.

THE FIRST DISCIPLES

This time three of the followers of John, curious to know more about Him Whom their master so praised, crossed the river and followed Him. Jesus let them come; after a while He turned round and asked them: “Whom are you seeking?” In reply, having nothing else to say, they asked Him where He lived. He invited them to “Come and see”; and the Gospel adds: “They came and they saw, and they stayed with Him all that day.” Not only that; they went away full of their discovery. They told someof their companions that they had “found the Messiah,” so impressed had they been by Him in that first conversation. They brought some of their companions back with them to judge for themselves; in a very short time Jesus had six followers, taken from the followers of the Baptist. These were: Andrew and Simon, James and John, Philip and Nathaniel. (John 1)

With these companions He returned to His native Galilee, for these men also were all Galileans. They came to Cana where, because of His Mother, they wereinvited to be present at a marriage feast. There, at His Mother’s instigation, and, as He said, before the time of miracles had yet come, to relieve the company of anxiety He turned water into wine. Thence He went and found a home for His Mother and Himself in Capernaum, a busy little market town on the Lake of Galilee. But He did not stop there long, nor as yet did He seem inclined to set about the work which He had come to do. Instead, we hear of Him next in Jerusalem, at the feast of the Passover, when His indignation was aroused by the trafficking in the Temple Court, and with a piece of string for a whip He drove out the buyers and sellers from the Temple. He was challenged by the authorities—the Scribes and the Pharisees—for doing what He did; He replied with the memorable sentence, His hand upon His breast: “Destroy this Temple, and in three days I will build it up again.” They were words never to be forgotten; one day His enemies would quote them against Him, when He was on trial for His life; His friends would ever recall them as one great prophecy whose fulfilment proved that indeed He was the Son of God.

Still at this time, and for some weeks, perhaps months, later, Jesus did comparatively little. He continued to bide His time. With a few companions He returned to the Jordan River, where John had been before; and, while John went higher up the river to the border of Galilee, the companions of Jesus carried on His work in the old spot. Thus, He continued, so long as John the Baptist was on the scene; He preferred to let people come to Him, led by John’s teaching, than, as yet, to draw them to Himself. But, in the course of a few months, John was taken away; he incurred the hatred of Herod Antipas, Governor of those parts, and his wife, and was seized and put into prison, never again to be released. At once Jesus began to act. He left the Jordan and Judaea; He passed with a few companions through Samaria! He worked another striking miracle in Cana in Galilee, and began to preach the Kingdom. St. Mark (1: 14–15) tells us:

“After all that, John was delivered up, Jesus came into Galilee, preaching the gospel of the Kingdom of God, and saying: “The time is accomplished, and the Kingdom of God is at hand: repent, and believe the Gospel.” “ It was an advance on the teaching of John: John had said the Kingdom was coming, Jesus now declared that it had come.

2. THE FIRST PREACHING: GALILEE

While these preparations were going on a greater part of a year passed by. Thus far Jesus had done little or nothing. But now He began in real earnest, and the next year is one of the greatest activity. He went down to Capernaum once more, making this city His headquarters and base for all His future work; and there He began to preach in the synagogue on the Sabbath Day. Then He gathered again a few followers about Him; with these he went abroad; to others parts of Galilee, preaching the Kingdom, and at last confirming His preaching by miracles. These were poured out in great abundance, till the people followed Him with enthusiasm, even though they little understood what it was that He really wished them to learn. Lastly, when both followers and people had been sufficiently prepared, He made His work permanent by choosing His twelve apostles, and with them about Him He gave to the people the famous sermon on the Mount.

OPPOSITION

Still, even in this first year of preaching, and although the crowds gathered about Him and followed Him wherever He went, it was not by any means all success. Already He had roused opposition from the Scribes and Pharisees by what He had done in the Temple in Jerusalem; while he stayed in Judaea, the suspicions roused against John the Baptist began to concentrate on Him. These were aggravated in the city when again, at this time, He went there and worked a striking miracle, healing a crippled beggar on the Sabbath day; His defence of Himself on that occasion so angered His rivals that already we hear that “they sought to kill Him.” When He returned to Galilee they followed Him. In Nazareth itself, on His first visit there, another attempt was made upon His life. They followed Him about, spying upon Him, looking for something that would prove Him to be not a good Jew; when later, but before the Sermon on the Mount, He healed a man’s withered hand before their eyes, we are told that “they were filled with madness: and they talked with one another what they might do to Jesus”; that “the Pharisees going out immediately made a consultation with the Herodians against Him, how they mighty destroy Him.” So dangerous did this conspiracy become that Jesus was compelled to “retire with His disciples to the sea.” (see Mark 3)

Meanwhile, in spite of His enemies, it is during this time that the main lines of His teaching appear. It was something which followed on what had already been heard from John the Baptist, but it was something altogether different from the teaching of the Scribes and Pharisees. His method was the simplest, such as the poorest and least educated could understand; He drew His illustrations from their ordinary lives, He drove His lessons home by the events of every day. He began by speaking to congregations gathered in the synagogues on the Sabbath day; once His mission had really begun, we find Him speaking almost everywhere, in private houses, where a group had come together to hear Him, far more often in the open air, now to casual gatherings, standing curiously about Him, now to vast crowds that began to come to Him from far distant places, as from Capernaum itself. “And a great multitude followed Him, from Jerusalem, and from Idumaea, and from beyond the Jordan. And they about Tyre and Sidon, a great multitude, hearing the things which He did, came to Him.” (see Luke 6:17)

HIS TEACHING

And the content of His teaching at this time is easily traced. First He spoke of God the Father; of God His Own Father, the Father of men, “Your Father,” whom they could call in prayer, “Our Father,” and whom they could safely trust as any good father is trusted by any good son. The Father was one whom they should serve, not as slaves, but as sons; one whose great breadth, including love for all, both good and bad, made for them a nobler ideal than anything that had been taught by any man before. “I say to you: Love your enemies; do good to them that hate you: and pray for them that calumniate and persecute you: that you may be the children of your Father who is in heaven, who makes His sun to shine on the good and the bad, and rains on the just and the unjust.”

Next He spoke of the Father’s Kingdom, the Kingdom of Heaven, the Kingdom of God, into which all were invit ed to enter. He drew what might be called a character sketch of a perfect member of the Kingdom, beginning with: “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the Kingdom of Heaven”; and ending with: “Blessed are they that suffer persecution for justice” sake, for theirs, too, is the Kingdom of Heaven.” By many illustrations from this time onwards, He showed what that Kingdom was; by many allusions He told His hearers how it was to be entered, how life was to be lived in it, what the joy and reward, in this world and in the next, awaiting those who were faithful members of it. It was something altogether new, and yet in another sense it was not new. It was old in so far as it did but renew the two Commandments: “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart,” “you shall love your neighbours as yourself”; it was new in so far as it placed before men a new ideal, in poverty, in meekness, in suffering, in purity of heart. (see Mt 5)

Thirdly, but more by insinuation than by actual teaching, He drew men to discover who He was in Himself. Though He spoke of Himself always as “the Son of Man,” for He would not force Himself on anyone, still He allowed others to give Him nobler titles, “the Lamb of God, Who takes away the sins of the world,” “the King of Israel,” “the Messiah,” “the Son of David,” “the Great Prophet,” “the Prophet that was to come into the world.” He spoke of God explicitly as “My Father”; at the very first controversy in Jerusalem He was condemned because “He made Himself equal to God.” In the Sermon on the Mount He claimed to supersede Moses: “I say to you,” He repeated continually, giving His audience to understand that the New Law He was promulgating superseded all that had gone before. He was the Judge of men, though He had not come to condemn, but to save them; He was the Model of men, the Way and the Truth and the Life, which He would give to any who would come to Him. Nothing like this had ever been heard in the world before, nothing like it has ever been heard since; and in proof that Hespoke “as one having authority” to say these things, He appealed to the perfect life He lived, so perfect that none could “accuse Him of sin” of any kind.

CHAPTER III. THE CLIMAX

1. TO THE CONFESSION OF PETER

In this way, for about a year, till the Second Feast of Passover, Jesus seemed to the ordinary onlooker to pass from victory to victory. At first, after the choice of the Twelve and the Sermon on the Mount, He seemed only to redouble His favours. It is now that we hear not merely of the ordinary miracles of healing, but of greater powers: the healing of the Centurion’s servant, the Raising to Life of the Widow’s Son at Naim, the Conquest of the Woman who was a Sinner at Magdala, the instantaneous relieving of more than one demoniac. And yet, strangely enough, it is just at this point that may be noticed the beginning of failure, even among the people. One day, when He had freed a man possessed by a devil, it was insinuated that He did it “by Beelzebub, the prince of devils,” and He was stirred to indignation as He never was before. That same day He began a totally new way of teaching. Hitherto, as in the Great Sermon, He had always spoken plainly, so that the simplest and most ignorant could understand; now He began to speak in “parables,” so that only those who were enlightened could interpret Him. He poured Himself out no less generously than before, and crowds continued to gather round Him; but “He knew what was in man,” and He said very plainly that all this enthusiasm led to nothing.

THE “TWELVE”

But if He relied little on the crowds that followed Him, He concentrated more on His chosen Twelve. From the day that He selected them, definitely called them “Apostles,” he kept them always with Him, and took them as His companions wherever He went. They were the witnesses of all His greatest miracles. He allowed their accumulating evidence to tell on them more than on anyone else. He lived with them, ate with them, slept with them; they were allowed to see for themselves the utter perfection of His life, His intimacy with His Father in prayer, the Something more that was in Him which was not in other men. Though to others He spoke in parables, to them He continued to speak plainly, and took them aside, and explained to them what the parables contained, that they, in their turn, might explain them to others. To strengthen them in their faith and devotion, He even worked for them special miracles. Before, on the lake over against Bethsaida, He had stood in Simon’s boat, and had given to him and his companions an overwhelming catch of fish; now, about this time, He allowed the Twelve to be caught in a storm in the same boat, and with a word and a gesture saved them. “Who is this?” they asked of one another, “for He commands the winds and the water, and they obey Him.” It was another grace given specially to the Twelve and accepted.

In this way matters developed during the second year of Our Lord’s teaching. On the one side the insinuations of the Scribes and Pharisees were beginning to tell: that He broke the Sabbath, that He associated with publicans and sinners, that He worked miracles by means of the Devil. On the other hand, almost defiantly, Jesus began to act more boldly still. Not that He gave up His work for and among the people; it is at this time that we receive the description of St. Matthew: “And Jesus went about all the cities and towns, teaching in their synagogues, and preaching the gospel of the kingdom, and healing every disease and every infirmity. And seeing the multitudes He had compassion on them; because they were distressed, and lying like sheep that have no shepherd. Then He said to His disciples: “The harvest indeed is great, but the labourers are few. Pray you all therefore the Lord of the harvest, that He send forth labourers into Hisharvest”.” And as if to emphasize His words, and to show the lengths to which He would go, it is also at this time that He sent out His Twelve, untrained as they were, to make their first apostolic journey. He did it in a manner worthy of Himself. He gave them His own power of working miracles; power, even, to cast out devils and to raise the dead. They were to preach the Kingdom in His name; they were to be His representatives; then, in His Name, they should do what He Himself had done. It is worth noticing that this mission coincided with the death of John the Baptist; Herod put to death His one herald, Jesus responded by sending out twelve others across Herod’s own territory of Galilee.

A GREAT MIRACLE

But matters were fast coming to a head, and Jesus prepared for it. It was near the Paschal season once more, exactly a year before He Himself would be put to death, and there was much yet to be done. He had taught them many things. He had drawn them more and more to believe in Him; He had one thing more to offer them, which would at the same time be a supreme test of their faith. With His usual consideration and sympathy, He prepared His followers for it. He let them gather around Him, an immense multitude of more than five thousand people, on the green plain to the north of Galilee. There, in the evening, He fed them all, with a few loaves and fishes, and when they were all fully satisfied there were gathered up fragments more than there were at the beginning. No miracle that He had wrought struck the people more than this. They began to cry, “This is indeed the Prophet that is to come into the world,” and rushed forward to proclaim Him their national King. It was the highest point of His earthly career.

But if it was the highest point it was also the most disappointing. He had done so much for them, and this was all their return. He had preached the Kingdom of God, and they could only think of a kingdom of this world. He had tried to draw them to a spiritual understanding, and they remained merely natural, seekers only of loaves and fishes. He would make one last effort. After He had dismissed the crowd, that same night He walked on the waters to the Twelve, and bade Simon walk on them with Him, thus giving them one more miracle, again of quite a new kind, to strengthen their faith before the ordeal of the next day. When, in the morning, their ship put in above Tiberias, they made their way back to Capernaum through the plain of Genesareth; and never before had He shown Himself so lavish in miracles. The people gathered their sick from all the surrounding neighbourhood and laid them in rows along the road; as He came along He healed them every one.

THE BREAD OF LIFE

Then followed the great ordeal. (see John chapter 6) When He arrived at Capernaum He went into the synagogue and the crowd of admirers followed Him. He spoke to them of the bread with which He had fed them the day before, He told them that this was nothing to the bread He had yet to give them: They asked Him for this other bread, and He said that it was no other than Himself; He Himself was the bread of life. They began to wonder what he meant; He replied by asking them to believe, as they said they did, and all would be well. But He did not retract or explain away what He had said. On the contrary, He became more emphatic than ever. The bread that He would give was Himself; the bread that He would give was His own flesh; His flesh would be meat indeed, and His blood would be drink indeed; the man that ate of that flesh would live forever. The people heard, and understood, and asked each other how He could do this thing. They murmured that this was a hard saying; they said they could not accept it; and the evangelist adds: “After this many of His disciples went back and walked no more with Him.” It was the parting of the ways. Never again from this day do we hear of the dense crowds following Him as they had done before.

Indeed, this day was the beginning of worse trouble. The Scribes and Pharisees, all this time, had never been idle; now, with this disillusioned crowd they had a golden opportunity and they made good use of it. Soon it became impossible for Jesus and His Twelve to remain in Capernaum; soon even Galilee was too dangerous. We hear of Him now leaving His native country and going into exile; we find Him along the coast of Tyre and Sidon, then wandering across the country to the north till He reached Decapolis, then once more in the valley that led towards the pagan city of Caesarea Phillipi. For several months, from the Paschal season in April till October, He spent His time wandering in those strange lands. There is no record of preaching of any kind; a miracle here and there, where He rewarded the faith that He found even among these pagan peoples, but nothing more. Only He kept His Twelve with Him, and with them, as is evident from several instances, He devoted Himself to solitude and prayer.

Then came the second climax, the most momentous in His active life. They had come up the valley and were not far from Caesarea. It was early morning; the Twelve had come to look for Jesus and, as usual, they had found Him in prayer.

THE CONFESSION OF PETER

As soon as they had come near He turned to them. He asked them: “Whom do men say the Son of Man is?” They gave Him various answers, but evidently these answers interested Him very little. He was leading up to something else. “But whom do you say I am?” He asked them. At once “Simon Peter answered and said: “You are Christ, the Son of the living God”.” It was the first time a man on earth had given to Jesus the full honour that was His due, the first time that He had been called truly God in the full sense of the word: it was the one moment of triumph. If the people had failed Him, the Twelve had not; if all the rest had murmured and gone away, these at least had been faithful and had learnt the truth. Jesus showed what this confession meant to Him by the lavishness of His reward. “I say to you: You are Peter, and upon this Rock I will build My Church, and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it. And I will give to you the keys of the Kingdom of Heaven.” (Mt 16)

2. FROM GALILEE TO JUDAEA

With the confession of Simon Peter, Jesus had received the one thing for which He had so long waited, and for which he had worked all the time. John the Baptist had at the beginning pointed Him out as the “Lamb of God,” but that was not enough. He Himself had worked miracle after miracle, giving proof even of His power over death itself, but all He had received from the people had been: “A great prophet has risen up amongst us, and God has visited His people.” He had worked more wonders, He had taught “as one having authority, and not as the Scribes,” and He had succeeded only in winning men to say that He was “the Prophet,” and therefore the King that was to be. Jesus had left all that aside. He had taken His Twelve with Him into exile, and had given them time to reflect on all they had seen and heard, to let their love influence their reflections, and to draw a conclusion which others had not reached. Simon had drawn it; at least one man had made the great act of faith. Jesus did not seem now to mind about the rest; upon that man and upon that act of faith He would build up all the future, let His enemies say or do what they chose.

At once His whole method and course of action were changed. He came back to Galilee, no matter what plots were prepared to catch Him.

THE TRANSFIGURATION

First, to confirm His disciples in their belief, and to reward them for their act of faith, He took three of them up into a mountain and there revealed to them something of that Godhead in Him which they had confessed. This was the meaning of that mysterious revelation of Himself in the Transfiguration, when “His face did shine as the sun; and His garments became white as snow. . . . And behold a bright cloud overshadowed them, and lo, a voice out of the cloud saying: This is My beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased: hear, all of you, and listen to Him.”

Next, to prepare for the testing of that faith which would come to them before six months were over, He began to warn them of the Passion and Death that awaited Him, in marked contrast to what they had just seen. His teaching, too, now took on an altogether different aspect. Much more did He confine Himself to the training of the Twelve, telling them that if they would use all the power that He gave them they must be men of prayer and fervour, if they would rise high they must become as little children, if they would be true masters in the Kingdom they must learn, not to condemn, but to forgive, and that not seven times but seventy times seven.

So much does the very character of His teaching change. He speaks almost entirely to His Twelve. And for these, He no longer needs to draw them: He concentrates now on their up-building. But He changes also His plan of campaign. Hitherto we have seen Him almost entirely in Galilee and the north country; now He leaves that province altogether. It was the feast of the Tabernacles, past the middle of October, when many went up to Jerusalem. Suddenly He appeared in the Temple Court. His manner was all different; He was no longer the gentle Friend of the poor, who had been seen continually in the country lanes of Galilee: He was the Herald of God, Whose message it behoved the great men of the city to hear before it was too late. He did not avoid them as He had done before; He came into their very midst. He defied their every attempt to silence Him; edicts were issued for His capture, but they were of no avail.

At first one might have thought it was another Jesus that was revealing himself in Jerusalem, but events soon showed that He was always the same; circumstances only had changed, and He changed with them. It is at this time we hear of His saving from death the poor creature taken in adultery; now there occurred the healing of the man born blind, which caused so great a sensation in the city. But all the time He speaks with far more exactness of Himself and His mission than He had ever done before. “I am the Light of the world; he that follows Me walks not in darkness; but shall have the light of life.” “I am from above, I am not of this world.” “When you shall have lifted up the Son of Man, then shall you know that I am He.” “I speak that which I have seen with My Father.” “Which of you shall convince Me of sin? If I say the truth to you, why do you not believe me?” “Amen, Amen, I say to you: If any man keep My word, he shall not taste of death forever.” “Amen, Amen, I say to you, before Abraham was made, I am.” “I am the door of the sheep.” “I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd gives his life for the sheep.” In language such as this, unlike what He had used before, and yet the same, He knocked at the door of the hardened hearts that would not receive Him in Jerusalem.

But it was of no avail. If the rough people of Galilee had failed Him, the more enlightened rulers of the Temple went further; they hated Him with the hatred that grew more intense the more He pressed His claim home. Again and again they sought His life, even in the courts of the Temple; and though He always brought their attempts to nothing, yet prudence made Him take natural care. When the festival was over, though He did not return to Galilee, He left Jerusalem and settled for a while in the lower part of Judaea and in the country across the Jordan. It is at this time, in the winter and early spring before His death, that we hear of Him sending disciples before Him to preach, that we find Him resting in the house of Martha and Mary at Bethania (or Bethany), that he tells the story. of the Good Samaritan, choosing for His scene the high road that led from Jerusalem to Jericho and the Jordan River. (see Luke 10) He had come back to the district where He had begun, and where John the Baptist had evangelized before Him; but always His eyes were turned towards the Holy City beyond Olivet, as He made, as it were, this last fight for it before He died.

For that He would die was clear. Even the Twelve, as they watched the machinations of the Scribes and Pharisees, had begun to fear, not indeed for His death, for they had persuaded themselves that it could not be, but for the cause for which He stood. In Galilee everything had collapsed; in Jerusalem the Pharisees had decided to be rid of Him, and made no secret of it. Two deliberate attempts had been made on His life in the last two months, orders had been given to take Him prisoner; when Jesus showed a desire to return to the city, they could not but express their alarm. In the midst of all this He told them many times that He would go to Jerusalem, that He would perish; still not even His assurance that in the end all would be well could relieve them of their anxiety. If they could not believe that He would die, but would yet found His Kingdom, neither could they understand what He meant when He said He would rise again.

So long as He remained in the districts about the Jordan they were comparatively safe; the people of those parts were still devoted to the memory of John the Baptist, and Jesus came under the protecting shadow of John.

THE LAST LESSONS

It was still three or four months before the end, and Jesus made use of the time to give His last lessons, especially to the Twelve, whom He kept always with Him. They found Him again one morning in prayer, and they seized the occasion to draw from Him a lesson on the way to pray. The Pharisees still followed Him, but they were more deferential here than in any other part of Palestine. They suggested their complaints, but when He retorted and proved them to be wrong, they showed themselves far less eager to take revenge. It was here that two blind men on the roadside could boldly cry out to Him: “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on us”; here, too, that a woman could call down a blessing on the mother that brought Him into the world. Pharisees invited Him to dine with them and He went; during the meal He might rebuke them for their ways and they could only keep silence.

During all this period two things deserve to be noted, for they emphasize the character of Jesus in a special way. On the one hand, as we have seen, He had become far more emphatic in His warnings and denunciations. In the early days in Galilee, and even in Judaea, we heard comparatively little of these; now the time was shortening, and since the people of Jerusalem would not accept His invitation, He must needs tell them what would be the consequence. He would go away and they would seek Him in vain. They were not true sons of Abraham, they would die in their sin. Their calumnies would revert upon themselves, their hypocrisies would one day be revealed. They had been offered the Kingdom of Heaven and they had refused it; the offer would be taken from them and would be given to others whom the King would invite to His banquet. They prided themselves on their prayer; the prayer of the humble and sinful publican would be found more acceptable.

On the other hand, while warnings such as these became almost incessant, it is remarkable how the tender side of Jesus seems only to come out all the more. We have seen His treatment of the woman taken in adultery; at the same time He described Himself as the Good Shepherd, and dwelt on all the good things, all the peace and security that would come to His flock through Himself. Immediately after He told the story of the Good Samaritan; later, in the Judaean countryside He followed this up with more winning stories than He had ever spoken before of the Lost Sheep, and what the Shepherd would do to save it; of the Lost Groat (a valuable decorative dowry coinheirloom), and the woman’s joy at finding it; of the Prodigal Son, and the Father’s jubilation when at last He is able to welcome him home. It would almost seem that the more He was obliged to warn and condemn, the more His tenderness of heart was touched; He Who had taught Simon Peter to forgive seventy times seven times was prepared to forgive, even at this eleventh hour, Jerusalem and everyone in it if they would accept Him. This period closes with a symbolic parable, as if He would give a lesson in deeds, when He came back to Bethany from across the Jordan and raised His dead friend, Lazarus, to life.

CHAPTER IV. THE END

1. THE LAST TOUR

In this way Jesus spent the last few months after His coming to Jerusalem in the last October. It was, as one would judge, in the two months before the Pasch, which fell in April, that He came back to Bethany and raised Lazarus to life. The news of this quickly spread to Jerusalem, and only confirmed the enemies of Jesus in their determination to have His life at all costs; they even decided that Lazarus, too, must die. But their hour was not yet come and Jesus would not suffer Himself to perish before He willed it. To restore quiet, He retired again from Bethany; He hid away in Ephraim, a town some miles distant across a desert country, high up on a mountainside; there He remained with His Twelve, making His first preparation for the ordeal that was now soon to come.

But at last the hour was about to strike, and we can almost follow Jesus day by day for three weeks or a month before it.

A FAREWELL TOUR

We are told expressly that He left Ephraim, and began to make His way to Jerusalem; yet, along that way He went through Samaria and Galilee, and Peraea. In other words, He made a circular farewell tour, taking a last look, as it were, of all the spots where He had spent the last two years of hard labour. On the border between Samaria and Galilee, just before He came into the Valley of Esdraelon, He was accosted by a band of ten lepers outside a town, and He sent them away healed. On the way He continued His preaching and warning, telling His hearers that the Son of Man would one day come in a very different role from that in which He appeared then among them. He cautioned the Galileans against too great trust in themselves, when the Pharisees met Him, and set Him riddles about marriage and divorce, He answered them with a firmness and a clearness that seemed to border upon irony.

Still, this was not the note of His farewell. Though it was possible at this time, when He was passing through Galilee, that he pronounced woe on Corozain and Bethsaida and Capernaum because of their rejection of Him, still the mark of expansive, all-inducing love is never more apparent than now. Once, when He was replying to the Pharisees, some women brought their children to Him for a blessing. The Twelve rebuked them for their importunity, but He would have none of it: “Whom, when Jesus saw, He was much displeased and said to them: “Suffer the little children to come unto Me, and forbid them not; for of such is the Kingdom of God. Amen I say to you, whosoever shall not receive the Kingdom of God as a little child, shall not. enter into it.” And, embracing them, He blessed them.” A little later, along the same road, a rich young landowner of Peraea met Him, and offered to come into His service; we are told that Jesus “looked on” (or “gazed steadily at”) that young man and “loved him.” He crossed the Jordan for the last time and came to Jericho; His final visit there was marked by the healing of two blind men, by the characteristic parable of the Talents, delivered to this essentially money-making city, and by the welcome He gave to the convert publican, Zaccheus.

At length the procession arrived at His favourite halting-place, Bethany. It was not only Martha and Mary and Lazarus that gave Him a welcome there whenever He appeared; there seems always to have been a kindly feeling for Him in this distant suburb of Jerusalem.

THE BANQUET

He was always safe in Bethany; He could come there to rest when He pleased. On this occasion the little town was still astir by the raising of Lazarus from the tomb a month before; and when Jesus arrived all were anxious to pay Him reverence. A rich man of the place, called Simon, gave a banquet in His honour; at the banquet, Mary, the sister of Lazarus, came into the room and poured her richest spikenard (precious oils) upon Him; we are told that Judas protested against the waste, but Jesus defended the woman’s generosity. “But Jesus said: “Let her alone, why do you molest her? She has wrought a good work upon Me. For the poor you have always with you, and when you will you may do them good: but Me you have not always. What she had in her power to do, she has done; she is come beforehand to anoint My body for the burial. Amen I say to you, wheresoever this Gospel shall be preached in the whole world, that also which she has done shall be told in memory of her”.”

It was now just a week before the end. In seven days would be the Pasch, and pilgrims were already gathering from all parts in and around the Holy City. Between Bethany and Jerusalem, rather more than half-anhour’s walk, rose Mount Olivet; and, on its western slope, looking over the city, many had begun to pitch their tents in preparation for the festival. On the Sabbath day Jesus remained quiet in Bethany; early next morning His old spirit of command came upon Him. He sent for an ass that was tethered down the lane; He mounted it, and began to ride up the hillside towards Jerusalem. At once some kind of enthusiasm seized upon the disciples. They saw in the act of Jesus something they had never seen before; here in the midst of the enemy country He was riding towards the city as if in triumph. They began to cry hosannas around Him; they cut down branches from the palm trees around, and spread them on the ground before Him. Others about caught the infection; as the procession went along they, too, joined, in spite of the murmurs of the Pharisees, whom He passed near enough for them to complain to Him. The people bore Him through the very gate of the Temple and into its square, singing as they went: “Hosanna to the Son of David. Blessed is He that comes in the name of the Lord. Hosanna in the highest.” And when men asked what was the meaning of all this din, they only replied: “This is Jesus the Prophet, from Nazareth in Galilee.”

Jesus returned to Bethany that day, but He did not remain there. He had begun the week with a deliberate demonstration, proving that He could be Master of Jerusalem if He would; for the next two days He maintained that supremacy.

THE LAST DAYS

On the Monday He came again into the Temple fasting, and once more, as He had done in His earliest days, He drove the buyers and sellers out of its court. The priests and Pharisees protested, but He did not mind them; instead, He sat down and taught as He had always done, and the people gathered around Him. In the evening He retired once more to Bethany; we have no record that He ever spent a night in Jerusalem itself. On the Tuesday morning He was again at His post; and that day it is evident that His enemies were determined, if they could, to weaken His authority with the people. For “they feared the people.” Much as they hated Him, much as they were determined to have His life if they were able, in the midst of such enthusiasm they were afraid to touch Him. Instead, they came upon Him and plied Him with subtle questions. By this means they hoped, either that they would set Him a problem He could not solve, or He would give them an answer which they could turn against Him.

But Jesus met them all. He gave them replies which only turned their questions against themselves; in turn He asked them questions which compelled them to silence. He added parable after parable, every one of which told them plainly, if they were willing to hear, how grievously they were rejecting the grace that was being offered, and how terrible, in consequence, would be the retribution. Last of all, when nothing that He said could move them, He turned upon them with that tremendous invective: “Woe to you, Scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites,” and walked out of the gate. It was the last word He had to say; on the Tuesday afternoon He left the Temple court, never to return to it again. St. John concludes the events of those two days with these words: “These things Jesus spoke, and He went away and hid Himself from them. And whereas He had done so many miracles before them, they believed not in Him; that the saying of Isaiah the Prophet might be fulfilled which he said: “Lord, who has believed our hearing? And to whom has the arm of the Lord been revealed?” Therefore, they could not believe because Isaiah says again: “He has blinded their eyes and hardened their hearts, that they should not see with their eyes nor understand with their hearts, and be converted, and I should heal them.” These things Isaiah said, for when Isaiah saw His glory he spoke of Him. However, many of the chief priests also believed in Him; but because of the Pharisees they did not confess Him, that they might not be cast out of the synagogue. For they loved the glory of men more than the glory of God.”

2. THE PASSION AND DEATH

Jesus retired again to Bethany on that Tuesday afternoon. On the way, as they rested on the side of Mount Olivet, and looked down on the beautiful city beneath them, the Twelve could not refrain from expressing their admiration. Jesus only told them that the time was not far off when it would all be destroyed; it had rejected Him, and it in turn would be rejected. He went further; He told them that the day would come when the Son of Man would return to the world, not, as now, as a pleading friend, but as a judge, and that all the world would come before Him to receive its due reward: either, “Come, all you blessed of My Father,” or “Depart from Me, all you cursed.” After that we hear no more of Him till the Thursday afternoon. He had always prepared for great events by prayer; for thisgreatest event in the world’s history He prepared Himself by two days of retirement.

Meanwhile, in the city, the determination to get rid of Jesus grew stronger than ever. On the evening of the Tuesday, after He had left, a special meeting was held to plot His capture, though how it was to be carried out they were by no means sure. He had always escaped them before; He might escape them again, no matter how they secured Him.

THE TRAITOR

Suddenly, in the midst of their consultations, a bright and unexpected hope appeared. It would seem to have been next morning that a man presented himself before them, offering to betray Jesus into their hands. On examination he proved to be one of the well-known followers of Jesus, one of the intimate Twelve. At first they were suspicious; they could not believe, not even they, that so base an act of treachery was possible. But they were reassured. “What will you give me,” the man asked, “and I will betray Him to you?” He was out for gain; he was willing to sell his Master for money: when they discovered this they had no further fear, and an agreement was made.

It is not possible here to follow the story of the Passion in any great detail; to this only we would draw attention, from beginning to end Jesus was always Master of the scene. He had said long before that He had the power to lay down His life and to take it up again; He had often repeated that He would die nowhere but in Jerusalem. He had defied His enemies, telling them that their hour had not yet come, and that it would not come until all that the Father had willed was done. Now that will had been fulfilled, and He marched out to His death. But first He must have a parting ceremony; “Having loved His own who were in the world, He loved them unto the end.” He chose two of His Twelve, Simon Peter and John. With the authority of an overlord, He sent them into the city, to a house in the noblest quarter, bidding the master lend Him a well-fitted room for His final Supper. Never before has He been seen choosing for Himself the houses of the great, but for what He was about to do that night no place was too magnificent.

In the evening, though the enemy was on the watch to take Him, He came into the city, contrary to His custom.

THE LAST SUPPER

He sat down with the Twelve at the supper-table; suddenly, to the surprise of them all, He rose from the table and took water and washed their feet. He would allow no protest; He would have His own way; He would be alike their Master and their Servant. He would do more. He took bread in His hands, and broke it in pieces, and handed it round to them, saying: “Take this all of you and eat of this, for this is My Body.” He took a cup of wine. “Drink you all of this. This is My Blood, of the New Testament, which is to be poured out for many.” He gave them His Body and Blood; He gave them the power to distribute that same Body and Blood to others, to the end of time. The sign was given at last; the sign of “the priest for ever after the order of Melchizedek,” the sign of the bread from heaven, the sign of which the feeding of the five thousand on the border of Galilee had been but a symbol.

Many other things Jesus said and did on that last Supper night. It was indeed “His hour” in which He displayed Himself, His deep love and His expression of that love in giving, as He had never done before. But it was also the end. Even as He spoke, almost at the very door of the house in which the supper was being held, a traitor was plotting with His enemies to take Him, forces were being gathered, every precaution was being thought out so that this time He should not escape. It was at last “their hour and the power of darkness”; and, since it was the Father’s will, He would surrender to them and let them have their way. Still, not here, in the house consecrated by the Last Supper. He left the city at His leisure; on the road He allowed His Twelve, now reduced to Eleven, to see something of the weight of sorrow that oppressed Him; He entered a garden, and there on His knees, with all the truth of a human heart, He asked His Father that, if it might be, the Chalice be allowed to pass from Him.

It was not to be; and now we see Him rise from the ground more Master of men than ever, submitting to them and their brutality, yet all the time directing them, judging them, permitting them to do what they did and no more.

THE TRIAL

They came to the garden to seize Him; before they touched Him He first compelled them to fall to the ground in front of Him. They would gladly have taken His companions; He saw to it that not one of them should fall into their hands. They bound Him and brought Him to Annas; when Annas cross-examined Him, since he was not a lawful judge, Jesus referred him to others for his information. From Annas they took Him to Caiphas, the lawful high-priest, who had already decreed that Jesus must die; when Caiphas challenged Him to say who He was, then, for the first time, He declared His claim in terms He had never used before. “And the high-priest said to Him: I adjure You, by the living God, that You tell us if You be the Christ the Son of God. Jesus said to him: You have said it. Nevertheless, I say to you, hereafter you shall see the Son of Man sitting on the right hand of the power of God, and coming in the clouds of heaven.”

For making that declaration Jesus was condemned to death. He was pronounced a blasphemer, which alone shows that His judges knew full well what the words and their claim implied. According to the law, one condemned for blasphemy ought to have been stoned; but that did not suit the ideas of these masters of hatred. He must suffer the death of the meanest criminal. His very name must be rendered accursed for all time; He must die, not at their own hands only, but by the authority of the highest court in the world. They took Him to Pilate, the Roman Governor; again and again Pilate was compelled to declare Him innocent of any crime whatsoever; when he challenged Jesus with His title of Kingship, again, with the same commanding dignity with which He had spoken to Caiphas, He replied: “It is you who say that I am King. For this was I born, and for this came I into the world, that I should give testimony of the truth. Every one that is of the truth hears My voice.”

Throughout the story of the Passion two things stand out conspicuously; flagrant injustice on one side, dignity of innocence on the other. In the Jewish court, with all their witnesses, Jesus was condemned without a word against Him. He stood there before it, declaring His true title. In the court of Pilate He was declared not guilty; therefore He was scourged, therefore He was crowned with thorns, therefore in the end He was given up to be crucified. Yet, all this time, whenever Pilate brought Him before his tribunal, he found Him one who could speak to him as an equal, could question him even as He himself was questioned, could even turn the tables and speak as the judge: “Therefore, he that has delivered Me to you has the greater sin.” In the court of Herod, a court which had no right whatsoever in Jerusalem, Jesus “answered him nothing”; in that court it was easy to see which of the two was the master, which the accuser of the other.

But for reasons other than those of the high priests and the Roman Governor, it was the Will of the Father, and the deliberate choice of the Son, that He should “die for the people,” and Jesus was condemned to death.

CALVARY

He carried His own Cross to Calvary; a foreign visitor was conscripted to give Him aid; on the way He spoke still “as one having authority, andnot as the Scribes”; when nailed to the Cross He proved that His love for mankind had not been diminished, that even yet He could “love His enemies,” when His first words of prayer were for them: “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.” He hung there for three hours; during that time He won to Himself yet another sinner; He saw to it that His Mother should have comfort; He was careful that every detail of the prophecies should be fulfilled. Then, and not till then, He allowed Himself to die;He died “because He willed it” “Afterwards, Jesus, knowing that all things were now accomplished, . . . crying with a loud voice, said: Father, into Your hands I commend My spirit. And saying this, He gave up the ghost.”

3. THE RESURRECTION

It was, indeed, the end; Jesus of Nazareth was dead, and His enemies at last had had their way. But scarcely had the crime been committed than they grew restless. Jesus of Nazareth was dead, but what of the Son of God? They had proved that the Man could die, in spite of the fact that many times before He had passed through their hands unscathed; but what of His statement that He had the “power to lay down His life and to take it up again?” What of His declaration that when they had destroyed Him, He would come to life again? He had saved others, that they had confessed; Himself, so they tauntingly flung at Him, he could not save. Still, He had said that, when He was lifted up, He would draw all things to Himself, and the prophets of old had warned them of dead bones that might come to life again. He Who had raised up Lazarus from the tomb, was it certain that He could not raise Himself? With all their victory, the enemies of Jesus returned from Calvary restless, anxious, almost wishing that they had not so played into the hands of the Son of God.

And on the third day strange things occurred. Before the eyes of the soldiers sent to guard the tomb, by an unseen hand the stone at its entrance was rolled away. The tomb itself was examined, and the body was found to be gone.

“HE IS RISEN”

Friends of Jesus came to the garden round the tomb, and declared with a conviction that could not be denied that they had seen Him standing alive before them. He was seen by others, by Simon Peter, by two outside the city, at last by the Eleven gathered together. He had come to them Himself; He had spoken to them; above all, He had shown Himself to be the same Jesus Christ He had always been. For those who had the will to believe there could be no doubt that indeed He had risen from the dead, and was alive once more among them; as for the rest, had He not once said: “If they hear not Moses and the prophets, neither will they believe if one rise again from the dead.”

So the camps were divided, and so they have remained divided till this day. For one who is willing to trust the word of God, who knows that love of God, and what He has done to win in return the love of man, the story of Jesus, its beginning and its end and its renewal, is easy to believe. He who could choose to become Man incarnate, Who could live the life of man and die his death, could also command His own death, as He could command His own life; as He could be the Child of Mary, so He could rise again from the grave. Jesus was born, Jesus lived, Jesus died; Jesus rose again; Jesus, after forty days, ascended into heaven, to “live for ever to make intercession for us.” Before He died He came Himself to His own, to live with them always on this earth; Jesus, living in heaven, lives with us still, with us “all days, even to the consummation of the world.” The more intimately we know the life story of Jesus, the more consistently true it becomes, Simon Peter had discovered “the Christ, the Son of the living God.” The Centurion on Calvary, pagan as he was, yet confessed that “Indeed this was the Son of God.” And through the ages since, in spite of every opposition and set-back, the song has steadily grown: “Tu solus Sanctus, Tu solus Dominus, Tu solus Altissimus, Jesu Christe.”

“Thou alone art Holy, Thou alone art Lord, Thou alone art Most High, Jesus Christ.”

Nihil obstat:

BERNARD O”CONNOR, Diocesan Censor.

Imprimatur:

@ ARTHUR F. FOX,

Auxiliary Bishop, Melbourne. 28 June 1967.

********

A Trappist Asks Do You Want Life And Love?

A TRAPPIST

INDEX

FOREWARNING

Herein you will find medicine that is needed, but medicine that is not easy to take. The pills are not sugar-coated, nor are the bitter draughts disguised. But if this medicine is taken the individual will profit, both as an individual and as a member of the great Mystical Body of Christ.

The prescription has been written for all Catholics but especially for those who are in the maelstrom of modern worldliness and are caught in the vortex because they are too close to the whirlpool and not close enough to Christ.

It is an earnest effort to make clear in a simple and reasonable way the need you have of Christ in the Eucharist in your daily life as an antidote to the paganizing influences all around you. It is planned to build up a healthy spiritual resistance to such and to enable you to live the robust Catholic life our Faith calls for.

Again I say it is strong medicine and bitter, too; but if you take it, it will make you well! Try it!

Abbey of Our Lady of Gethsemani Feast of Our Lady’s Visitation July 2, 1941

DO YOU WANT LIFE AND LOVE?

If so, be true to yourself! Know what you are, why you are, and where you are going. Then make proper use of those means which will enable you to arrive at your real destination.

If you want life, beware of imitations. If you want love, avoid love’s base counterfeits. But to do either, you must first know yourself.

What are you?-Merely a human being? Never! Your origin was not merely human and your destiny is something divine. From human parents came your body, but your soul is a breath of God. And once you were baptized you were incorporated in Jesus Christ, the God-Man. You are an inhabitant of earth, it is true, but your real home is heaven. That is why one may call you a being who is “human and divine,” and say that if you would be perfectly natural, you must be supernatural, and if you would be true to your complete self, you must be more than human, you must be partly divine.

Do you see what that means?-It means that most people’s concept of life is inadequate and their notions of love untrue. It means that if you want to live you must feed yourself with Food Divine, and if you want real love you must lay hold of grace and open your arms to God. But to do either, you must beware of imitations and

AVOID THE COMMON CATHOLIC HERESY

“What is that?” you ask.

Just this: that RELIGION is only an appendage to life, a mere plus to life’s other activities.

That is the “heresy” that many practicing Catholics are actually living, although they would never acquiesce to its bald statement. Ask them, however, who are the successful Catholics and you will listen to a litany of governors, senators and mayors, of doctors, lawyers and judges, of successful writers, speakers and radio-artists who were baptized in the Catholic Church. These people think that success is measured by the material; and that Catholic success consists in money, fame, power or position plus religion. That is what I call “heresy.”

Why, you will even hear some who hold high office in our educational institutions speak of the successful Catholic school as the one that teaches “all that the secular institutions of learning teach plus religion.” And that is rank heresy!

You see the type of mind these people have, and you recognize their error. Avoid it by realizing that Religion is NOT a mere appendage to life. IT IS life! And he alone is really alive who is living religiously. He alone has true love who is clinging to God. You can be the same and you can have the same if you will always

LOOK FOR THE GENUINE

It is not just life that you want. No. You want success in life. And that is perfectly licit and laudable. But to attain to real success you will have to be absolutely orthodox.

Do you know what that means?-It means avoid the common Catholic heresy alluded to above. It also means that you will have to change your idea of success.

Here comes some strong pabulum now, and it will call for hard swallowing; but I trust that you want life and love, and I know that there is only one way to both. It is by looking for the genuine!

Tell me, whom do you call a success in life? Is it not the captain of industry, the master of men, the individual who has fought his way to the top? Certainly. But what of the captain of his soul, the master of himself? What of him who has done fierce battle with pride, covetousness and lust, with anger, envy, gluttony and sloth? What of him who has fought his sinful self down to the very abyss of self-annihilation. Why, in the hurly-burly of your mad, materialistic, modern world you hardly notice such. A John D. Rockefeller, an Andrew Carnegie and a J. Pierpont Morgan you understand, and with such feel some sort of kinship. Why, you even understand the vaulting ambition of a Stalin, a Mussolini and a Hitler. But a Cure of Ars, a Little Flower, a Benedict Joseph Labre-these are beyond your ken. Why?-Because you have not been looking for the genuine and the true!

Come now, and tell me honestly, who was the real success in life-was it Benedict Joseph Labre, that verminridden vagabond who spent his years as an unclean beggar shuttling between the shrines of France and Rome, but who died a saint, or the fastidious dandy of the same day and age who won the respect and subservience of his cringing contemporaries because of his fame, position or wealth, but who today is “unwept, unhonoured and unsung”? Who was the real success in life-that little French girl who buried herself alive in a convent of Carmelite nuns so as to be nearer and nearer to God, and who today is loved by millions who call her “The Little Flower,” or the beauty of the same day and age who captured the eyes, the minds and the desires of men, but who is now not even a memory? Or strike a more startling contrast by asking: Who was the real success in life-Herod Antipas, Pontius Pilate or the Man who died as a criminal on Golgotha’s hill with the mocking inscription over His head, “Jesus of Nazareth, King of the Jews”?

You know the answer. And you know who had the genuine and who the mere imitation. Now ask yourself which of the contrasted parties made Religion their lives, and which made it some sort of an appendage. Which of them gave God a chance? Certainly not Pilate who sneeringly said, “What is truth?” Certainly not Herod who robed the Son of God as a fool. But most assuredly He who said to God, “Not my will, but Thine be done,” even though that resignation bathed His Body in the crimson dye of His own Blood and nailed Him to the Cross.

Do you begin to recognize real success? It is found in doing the Will of God. And what is the Will of God in your regard? St. Paul tells us plainly. He says, “This is the Will of God-your sanctification.” Holiness! Sanctification! That is life! That means love! That also means that you and I must be like the babe in

THE MODERN MADONNA

Some two months ago, my little sister, (I call her “little” since she is my junior) made me an uncle for the second time. A short while ago she sent me a picture which I title “The Modern Madonna.” In it my sister is mother, and my nephew is child. This Twentieth Century masterpiece differs from those of the earlier centuries in accidentals only, the coiffure and the dress are changed; but all else, all the essentials, the high lights, the love lights, are the same as in a Raphael, a Dolci or a Bellini. And therein is our lesson. . . . If you want life and love, cling to the Source of your life and love! My little nephew, by an instinct which is the law of his being, is clinging to the source of his life. He wants life and love, and his instinct tells him where to get both; so he clings to his mother.

Learn that lesson and you have learned wisdom from one who is as yet unwise, and how to be rational from one who is as yet only potentially so. The lesson is obvious: If you would become all that God intended you to be, if you would have life and success in life, if you would have love and not love’s base counterfeit, you will enter into a union with God as intimate and as vital as that which exists between a mother and the babe in her womb; in very brief, you will cling to Jesus Christ in Holy Communion! He is your only hope for success, your only means to sanctification, your one way to true life and real love. Cling to Him and

STOP PUZZLING HEAVEN

As the Seraphim look down on earth today, puzzlement fills their eyes. Not because of the wholesale murder that goes on in Europe; not because of the ceaseless, heartless, relentless struggle between man and man in the economic and political world; no, nor even because of the awful slaughtering that takes place on the very foundation stone of civilization-the union of husband and wife. These things grieve but they do not puzzle the Seraphim, for they have intellects that pierce to the very heart of things. They know that the greatest sin of society is not the sin of the flesh, not the sin of man against man, or of man against woman, or even of man and woman against mankind. These sins cry to Heaven for vengeance, it is true; but the sin that is at the root of all these, the sin of all sins is the neglect of God by man!

That is the sin that puzzles Heaven. And I dare say that that is the root cause of all other sin. And understand me! I am not talking about Atheists, Agnostics or gross Materialists; I am not talking about Bolshevists, Nazis or Fascists; I am talking about Catholics! You are the ones who puzzle Heaven. Angels can understand the totalitarians. Germans, Russians and Italians are no enigma to Seraphim. No. They are only people following a right impulse in the wrong direction. But the Seraphim cannot understand Catholics who are not totalitarian Catholics. Seraphim cannot understand divine-human beings, who have been vivified by a divine Blood transfusion called Baptism, and saved again and again by another divine Blood transfusion called Penance, neglecting the only Food and Drink that will sustain their Catholic lives. Seraphim, Cherubim and Thrones, Dominations, Virtues and Powers, Principalities, Archangels and Angels are bewildered by your neglect of Jesus Christ in the Blessed Sacrament of the Altar. Can you blame them?

Look! They saw their leader, Lucifer, sin just once. They saw many of their fellow angels follow him in that one sin. And they saw them all hurled from the threshold of Heaven into the deepest pits of Hell. It was a lightning stroke. It almost blinded them; but they saw in it the Justice of God, and adored Him for it.

They saw our leaders, Adam and Eve, sin; and they looked for the thunderbolt of Justice to flash again and blast these two first human beings into Hell. It would have been divine Justice in operation again, and they could have adored God for it. But instead, they heard the condemnation of the serpent, the banishment of the man and woman, and the promise of a Redeemer. When they caught their angelic breaths and recognized this marvel of divine Mercy, they rejoiced.

Centuries then fled to the night when a whole host of them left Heaven to brighten the fields outside Bethlehem with their splendor and set the night air ringing with”Gloria in excelsis Deo, et in terra pax hominibus bonae voluntatis”; for a Babe was born who was Christ the Lord. If Angels could envy, they would have envied the human race that night; for God had caught it up and pressed it to His Heart as never Angels had been pressed. More! God had entered into so close a union with humanity that the actions of this tiny human Babe would be the actions of God.

The Angels understood the reaction of the shepherds that night; for they went over to Bethlehem to see these things which had come to pass. But from that night to this, mankind has puzzled Heaven. Angels frown as they see man’s lack of appreciation of the closeness of God, and a light of bewilderment fills their eyes as they watch men

SPURNING THE DIVINE BEGGAR

Heaven saw all that happened in Judea those three and thirty years. Angels welcomed an army of little babes “two years of age and under” to their midst, babes who had been slaughtered because the

Divine Babe had been born. And from that moment Angels knew that men were mad. Angels saw the God of life and love become a beggar for life and love. They saw Him beg for a virgin womb in which to be conceived; and Gabriel trembled as Mary asked, “How can this be?” They saw Him beg for a place in which to be born; and their hearts failed them at Bethlehem’s closing of doors. They saw Him beg for a place in which to live; and it was one of their number who in anxious fright awakened Joseph and said, “Fly into Egypt.” Then came the years at Nazareth, years of begging to be unknown, years that had only one break in them, and that a heart-break for Mary and Joseph, when a Boy of twelve astounded the Doctors in the Temple. It was His first begging to be heard, and as far as we can gather, Angels had reason to be puzzled at the obtuseness of learned men. Nazareth was followed by three years of intense begging. He wanted to be listened to and recognized. He wanted men to know that He was the Son of God, their Messias; so He begged with that divine beggary of miracles, pleading with men to acknowledge their Redeemer; and Angels wept at the result! One of their number winged his way to Gethsemane to comfort the Divine Beggar who was in a sweat of Blood begging the father to “let the chalice pass.” Even that begging failed; and the whole host of Heaven hid behind their wings as man in his madness crucifed God.

Down through twenty centuries of time those three and thirty years have had their counterpart as man has turned a deaf ear to the God who begs for his love. No wonder Angels frown. Jesus Christ so loved man that He died for him; and “greater love than this no man has!” Ah, but Jesus Christ is God and He has a greater love for man than man’s love. He gave man’s proof of love by dying; He gives God’s proof by living. Jesus Christ died; He arose from the dead; He ascended into Heaven; and yet, He would not leave the earth! No. He loves man too much! He must be near man. That is love’s way. Nearness is not enough; love craves union! So Jesus Christ became Food and Drink that He might live in man and man might live in Him. The Divine Beggar has beggared Himself. More He cannot do. Omnipotence is important. Infinity has found a term. Inexhaustible Love is exhausted.

Christmas night rocked Heaven. Angels were aghast at the Incarnation. But Holy Thursday night struck them dumb. That God should become a Babe in swaddling clothes was cause for overwhelming surprise; but that God should bury Himself in Bread and become the very Food of man dazzled and stupefied the nine choirs of Heaven’s court. And yet, great as was God’s action, they were not completely bewildered by it. No! It took man’s reaction to do that! Heaven was not completely bewildered until it saw man’s coldness to God’s condescension.

Bethlehem closed doors -but Bethlehem did not really know who Joseph was or whom Mary tabernacled. Roman soldiers scourged Christ and hammered Him to a Cross while High priests howled and frenzied Jews mocked;-but none of these fully understood what they did or who He was. But you!-you have made profession after profession of your belief. You say that you know that God is on your altars; that He is there with His Body and His Blood, His soul and divinity under the guise of Bread and the appearances of Wine. You proclaim to believe that God is Emmanuel- God with us-and yet, you leave Him alone! No wonder Seraphim frown and choir after choir says, “Man-hu”-What is this?

They expect Christians to be paradoxical; for Christ was such. But they do not understand Catholics who are contradictory! They do not understand men and women and even growing children who say that they want life and love, and then deliberately neglect the only Food and Drink that will give them life and love, preserve them in life and love, and augment their lives and their loves ! Heaven cannot understand your neglect of Christ in the Holy Eucharist. Can you?

AREN’T WE THE WISE FOOLS

We gather information on a multiplicity of subjects, become experts in countless lines of endeavor, and neglect the one thing necessary-the life of the soul!

Moderns who can tell the biological function of almost every corpuscle in the body, are so learnedly ignorant that some of them deny the existence of their own soul. Indeed Puck was right! “What fools these mortals be!” But if Puck knew modern Catholics and their neglect of the Eucharist he would say, “What mighty fools these Catholic immortals be!” Why?-Because you are neglecting the only means you have to immortality. Jesus Christ has said, “I am the living Bread . . . if any man eat of this Bread, he shall live forever . . . he that eateth my Flesh and drinketh my Blood hath life everlasting.” You believe Him, don’t you? He also said, “Amen, amen I say unto you: Except you eat the Flesh of the Son of Man and drink His Blood you shall not have life in you.”-In the face of these quotations what do you say to my original question? In the face of these two solemn assertions of the Son of God what do you reply as I ask: Do you want life and love? Behind the white veils of the Eucharist is Life! Behind those white veils is Love! Do you want either?-Then why not approach those white veils more often?

If a babe fed at its mother’s breast only once a year, once a month, or even once a week, would it have life? If roses stretched out leafy arms to the sun only once a year, once a month or even once a week, would they grow? If unfledged robins opened wide their baby beaks only once a year, once a month or even once a week, what would happen? Isn’t the analogy plain to you? If you are going to feed on the Body of God only once a year or once a month, if you are going to drink His Blood only once a year or once a month, if you are going to establish intimate contact with your sole source of life only once a year or once a month, can you expect to be otherwise than half dead? Do not wonder at the anemia so prevalent in Catholic ranks. Do not marvel at the low-vitality in Catholic Action. Undernourished people will always suffer from inanition! Marvel rather at the infinite patience and the almighty mercy of God! Sacred history repeats itself: “He comes unto His own and His own receive Him not!”

MY HEART BLEEDS FOR WHAT YOU ARE DOING TO GOD, BUT IT BLEEDS MORE PROFUSELY FOR WHAT YOU ARE DOING TO YOURSELF—YOU ARE NEGLECTING YOURSELF

When you find yourself physically run down, you consult a doctor; and he prescribes something to tone you up. Usually he will have you take the tonic three times a day saying, “your system needs it.” Why not be equally prudent regarding your soul? I think that it is at least of equal importance! Why not follow the prescription given by the Divine Physician? It was written for you. “Come to Me all you who labor and are burdened, and I will refresh you.” That is what you need-refreshment! a general toning up of your soul’s system! a complete renovation obtained by Food, Drink and Rest.

Father LeBuffe, S.J. in one of the series of his priceless little books,”My Changeless Friend,” tells of a person who said, “No, don’t call a doctor; I”m too sick. Doctors don’t want to see really sick people; and I am really sick.” Of course we consider such a man as mad; and yet, does not that express our attitude toward the Divine Doctor of our souls? Do we not seem to say: “No, I won’t go to the Divine Physician. My soul is too sick”-or what is much worse-”My soul is in good health.” The sicker I am the more I need His healing. The fouler I am the more I need His cleanliness. The weaker I am the more I need His strength. The more cowardly I am the more I need His bravery. The more impure I am the more I need His spotless innocence. Why is it that we forget His own words? He said: “I have come to call not the just but sinners.” Why do we fail to heed His invitation? He said: “Come to Me.”

It is those who are ill that need the Physician; and you and I, because of the world, our own flesh and the devil, are in constant danger of contracting a deadly disease and falling into a mortal sickness. Father LeBuffe would not have to fictionize about soulsickness if he knew us. In writing, “No, don’t call the doctor; I”m too sick,” he has touched us off to the life!

We know that we came from God, and we know that we have to go back to God. That is life’s cycle, and no matter how few one’s years may be, that is a mighty journey for every soul. Speculatively, you admit this. But then you go out and act as if it were only idle speculation. Of what a neglect of self you are guilty no matter how great your selfishness! You need food for your journey! You need “Viaticum,” and God has become just that-our journey’s Food, our Viaticum. And we? We go hungry, then wonder why we faint on the way.

Have you ever read the Third Book of Kings? If not, read it today. Read the seventh verse of the nineteenth chapter. It tells of Elias and how “the angel of the Lord came and touched him and said: Arise, and eat; for thou hast yet a long way to go. And he arose and ate, and drank, and walked in the strength of that food. . . . unto the mount of God . . .” When you have read, lay the lesson to your heart. Take those words as spoken to yourself, for you have yet a great way to go. Indeed you have! You have to go to the grave, then cross the great divide, then on and up to the Throne of God, and finally, down the infinite stretch of eternity. So, arise and eat! Arise early in the morning and eat and drink the Bread and the Wine that God has provided for your journey. Take your Viaticum, and I promise that in the strength of that Food you shall walk unto the Mountain of God! Don’t neglect yourself any longer. It may prove fatal. Remember that God is your Emmanuel not so much to be adored as to be eaten! He is your Viaticum, your journey’s Food. So, ARISE AND EAT, then you will be

ABLE TO DO BATTLE

Life is a journey; that, no one can doubt. But it is a journey taken through an enemy’s country; and that is why holy Job could say: “The life of man upon earth is a warfare.” For the most part it is guerrilla warfare, and the relentlessness of the struggle coupled with the isolation of our combat positions tends to make even the bravest of us falter. To fight shoulder to shoulder with men of bone and muscle is comparatively easy; to go “over the top” with the rest of the company or to charge the enemy stronghold with the rest of the battalion is not so terribly difficult; but to fight on alone! to battle day in and day out with Hell’s uncanny enemy; to have to walk steadily onward, expecting every thicket to be an ambuscade and every turn in the road, an enemy trap; and to do all this alone-that calls for stamina that is superhuman. And yet, that is life! It cannot be done alone! No. It can only be done successfully by walking shoulder to shoulder with the All-conquering Christ.

Face the facts. The world is massed against you. They tell me that the combined forces of fashion and mass production have set up a dictatorial tyranny regarding dress that has robbed the world of decency, womanhood of modesty and youth of its sense of shame; that the blatant vulgarity of prurient advertising militates against anything like a chaste mind, a pure imagination and a clean heart; while the profitable pandering to what is low in recreation and reading promises to despoil our entire country of the very idea of personal purity. It is a day of naked bodies and naked souls! How can you keep the Catholic ideal of spotlessness before you when highways are bill-posted and street cars are placarded with incitements to sin? How can you do it when over the air, from the stage and on the screen comes smut? How can you do it when your smart newspaper columnists and your feature writers for magazines give you sophisticated, foul suggestiveness? How can you do it when your bathing beaches, your board-walks and even your Main Streets have become show-places for indecency, along which there is a constant parade that is an open invitation for you to be impure. How can you be clean of heart in the midst of this merciless and unrelenting attack? From what I hear one might well suspect that a conspiracy against chastity has been hatched in which all the cunning of Hell and all the lasciviousness of earth have joined hands to drive the very idea of personal cleanliness and public decency from the universe, and that our present generation is seeing its most concerted and concentrated barrage. Let me tell you that you will not be, for you cannot be, clean in this your day unless . . . unless, I say, you eat the Bread that makes strong and drink the Wine that germinates virgins, and do it frequently!

Paganism, with all its immodesty, indecency and impurity is all around you; and the only One who has ever combated and conquered Paganism is the Man who one night “took bread and blessed and broke and gave to His disciples and said: Take ye and eat. This is My Body. And taking the chalice, He gave thanks and gave to them saying: Drink ye all of this. For this is My Blood.” It is the same Jesus who opened His Public Life by saying: “Blessed are the clean of heart,for they shall see God.” At the close of His Public Life He gave you and me the means! Do you want to be blessed? Do you want to be clean of heart? Do you want to see God?-Then, “take and eat!” and “drink ye all of this!”

Do be good to yourself! Remember that during His life on earth the healing touch of His Body gave the rapture and revelation of sunlight to those who had become blind or were born so;-and let me tell you that there is such a thing as soul blindness! Remember that the touch of His Body opened the wondrous world of melody to ears that had never heard;-and souls can become deaf! Remember that it was the touch of His Body that gave soundness of limb to the lame and set the feet of the halt dancing;-many a soul has become crippled! Never forget that it was the touch of that same Body that struck off the scales from hideous leprous flesh and brought back again the ruddy glow of health to those who had to go through life calling out “Unclean! Unclean!”-and the world is full of spiritual lepers! Never forget that it was the touch of His hand and the call of His voice that lifted the son of the widow of Naim from his bier, the daughter of Jairus from her couch of death and brought Lazarus stumbling forth from his tomb;-humanity is replete with weeping widows, grieving parents, and sisters who sob: “Hadst Thou been here. . . .” Indeed humanity needs that life-giving Humanity of Christ! And humanity has It in the Eucharist. So, be good to yourself! If you want life-take Him! If you want health-touch Him! If you want happiness, holiness, real love-they are yours! Jesus Christ, the

Wonderworker of Galilee, the world’s greatest Miracle-Man, Jesus Christ, your God, can be touched daily. And the point is that His Humanity, now glorified, has lost some of its power to transform! If you want real life and love, prove it . . .

BE A PRACTICAL CATHOLIC

The Church is crowded with speculative Catholics, those who gave an intellectual assent to all the truths of our religion; but the Church is not crowded with practical Catholics. The truths of our Faith call for more than intellectual acceptance; they demand external execution. They are dynamic entities, not static facts. They call for energy and action even more than assent. Most of us know the mysteries of our religion; but few of us live them. If we did, they would exercise a dominant influence on our whole make-up; we would feel them penetrate, rule and regulate the whole realm of our judgments, decisions, acts and desires; if we did, we would soon cease to be anemic Christians and become red-blooded, full-blooded, fiery-blooded Catholics; we would cease to look at everything from a purely egoistic and earthly viewpoint and begin to view them from an eminence, looking on all things in their relation to our attainment of God. If we lived our religion, our lives would be religious; that is, we would be God-conscious, Godcentered, God-absorbed souls; we would be men and women bound by the indissoluble bonds of religion to the Infinite One; we would be lovers hurrying back to the Beloved !

Let us be brutally honest with ourselves. Do not most of us look upon Heaven as something to be accorded us if we ascent to certain propositions and perform certain definite acts of religion at definite times and periods? Do not most of us feel that we have discharged our duty toward our Religion when we say our prayers, go to Mass on Sunday and perform our Easter duty? Have we not made some sort of a queer distinction between The Church and God, between our religious duties and the homage we owe the Deity? To be harshly bald about it all, do we not think of Heaven as something we can snatch if we manage to receive the Sacraments in the proper dispositions just before we breathe our last

Of course, we are orthodox in such a belief ; and yet, it is a way of looking at things that is perilously close to being false. The Good Thief is not our model. Jesus Christ is! God meant us to purchase eternal life by LIVING in a certain manner, rather than by DYING in a certain manner. His Church is not so much a Bona Mors Society as it is a Bona Vita! Calvary is the focal point of our Religion, but let it be remembered that of the three crosses on Calvary, only one is a model death-bed-the one in the center! For that was a consummation of a good life.

St. Bernard has a very apt remark about the Good Thief. He says “there was one-lest we despair; there was only one-lest we presume.” But apart from that, let us be practical. We were born to praise, reverence and serve God from the dawn of reason, not to acknowledge Him only with our last breath. We were made to the image and likeness of God, but Original Sin defaced that marvel, making our life’s work a work at restoring the Original, repairing the ruined Masterpiece, bringing out every line and subtle shadow of this work of Omnipotence in all its beautiful relief.

All of which is but another way of saying what the Catechism says to the basic questions of life: Whence? Why? and Whither? We learned the answers long ago. We have not lived them. If we had, no one need tell us that there is only one success in life, and that, sanctity; no one need tell us that there is only one means to that success, viz., giving God a chance; no one need plead with us to be good to ourselves. If we had lived those answers, no one need tell us that as roses come from roses and robins from robins, so sanctity can only come from Him who is substantial Sanctity-God; no one need tell us that God is an engraver who uses His Sacraments as tools with which to retrace His image on our souls, or if it be already there, to cut its lines more deeply and more clearly. If we had lived those answers, no one need cry: why are you so ill at ease? why are you unsatisfied with life? why do you fear death?

Is not the one answer to all these pointed questions-Because we have not stayed close to God?

Ah, there is a terrible logic to Catholic living; a logic of sweet fierceness and kindly severity. It is the terrible logic of holy living! It is violent, inexorable, unbending. It knows that not those who say “Lord, Lord” will enter the Kingdom of Heaven, but only those who “do the Will of My Father who is in Heaven.” It knows that victory is only to the brave, and the bravest are those who know themselves to be cowards and so put their hand into the outstretched hand of the Allconquering Christ and with Him march on to triumph. It is a logic that knows that “the Kingdom of Heaven suffereth violence, and only the violent bear it away.”

That is the logic that must be lived. Life comes only from the living; and Jesus Christ is deathless! Love comes only from the loving; and Jesus Christ had His Heart spear-driven that you might find a way therein. Bread is the staff of life and “wine rejoices the heart of man,” hence, bread and wine are transubstantiated “from the rising of the sun to the going down thereof,” that you might have life and love.

Did it ever strike you that your one work in life is to be transubstantiated? It is literally true. Just as, by the words of consecration, bread and wine are changed into the Body and Blood of Christ, so that only the appearances remain, so to your life, your soul, your self, your very being is to be transubstantiated. If you are a practical Catholic your life is a continual act of consecration; you are always saying “This is my body, this is my blood. Take it, God, and all that goes with it. Take it, for it is wholly yours. Take it, and transubstantiate me! Transubstantiate me so that, like the bread and wine, nothing may remain but the appearances. Let the accidents be-my name, my appearance, my specific role in life-let these remain; but the substance-change! and change completely. Transform and so completely transubstantiate me that I will be no longer mine but thine; that I may no longer live unto myself, but unto Thee; that I may become another thank-offering to God the Father, another Eucharistic victim to bring life and love, real life and love, to the world!”

That is being a practical Catholic. And that these words of dedication and consecration be not idle words, the practical Catholic goes to the great High-priest, the only One who can, by His own power, transubstantiate. The practical Catholic goes to Communion wherein a Food is given which, instead of being assimilated, assimilates; instead of being transformed, transforms; instead of being changed into our substance, transubstantiates us into otherChrists. Be a practical Catholic then and

BE IN TUNE WITH THE TIMES

To this point my whole appeal has been personal. I have been begging you to be good to yourself by giving God a chance through His Sacrament of life and love to make your life a success and your loves satisfying. Such an appeal strikes a strident note in the song of the day. It falls harshly upon ears that have been attuned to nothing but pleas for a better brotherhood of man, a more animated community spirit, a more vital expression of our social-soul; pleas for a more united living in our local, state and national spheres, a greater consciousness of our oneness as men, our intimate union in the one great human family; altruistic pleas for “a better world of tomorrow” and an unselfish caring for “the generation yet unborn.”

You have heard these pleas day in and day out. Nor have they remained in the realm of empty oratory. No, indeed. We have seen them translated into action in every sphere of human endeavor, economic, political, industrial, social and civic. So universal and effective has been this movement that our age is in every way comparable to such epochs as the Fall of the Roman Empire, the end of the Feudal Age, the Reformation and the Renaissance. Ours is a day of change, vast, grave and universal. Revolution has swept the world and the individual has become of little worth.

Unionism, collectivism, totalitarianism have become household words. Solidarity of the group, be it social, civic, industrial, national or racial, has been the endeavor of our times; and a rather successful endeavor. From as seemingly innocent a thing as a Rotary Club we have seen this movement to mass, unite and solidify, sweep to the extreme of the wholesale regimentations of entire peoples. In this revolution the individual has become so totally submerged as to be entirely unthought of. And in that fact lies the strength and the weakness of the revolt. The individual must be thought of first, last and always. For if you are to have a successful united action you must have individual strength. And when the masses wake up to the fact that they as individuals, mean nothing to the leaders of these mad modern movements, then we shall have the deluge!

But let me not wander. I have pleaded with you as an individual and for your own individual good. I have shown you your errors in thought and action, and I have shown you the one remedy-Jesus Christ in the Eucharist. But in pleading with you as an individual and for your own individual good, I have been pleading for the masses, the mighty masses of over four hundred millions of men, women and children, of every age, race, clime, and condition of life, those mighty masses who are united as no other group is or can be united, those masses that have a solidarity in comparison to which Gibraltar is loose and shifting sand. I have been pleading for the Mystical Body of Jesus Christ! And in doing so, I have been pleading with you to be in tune with your times.

For let it be known that the movements of our day are correct movements; but they are under false auspices and have been given a wrong direction. I want revolution; You want revolution. Every Catholic thinker and leader of the day wants world revolution; for our whole life’s story from the Birth of Christ until the crack of doom is and will be a story of revolution. We are, have been, and ever will be insurgents. We cannot be otherwise; for our King and Captain is the world’s only real revolutionary Leader-He is Jesus Christ. His doctrine is one that calls for complete, universal and world-wide revolution; a rebellion against all that the world hugs and holds up as desirable. He, by His preaching, His Life, Passion, Death, Resurrection, Ascension and Sending the Holy Ghost upon the Apostles, overturned every recognized human hierarchy; and His Church has always lived that life and preached that doctrine! But note well that it is a revolution of the masses, for the masses accomplished by the individual, through the individual and for the individual; for it is a revolution based on the primary truths that the world is reached only through the individual, and that if individuals fail, nations perish! And let me tell you that individuals will inevitably fail unless they, as individuals, keep in close and constant contact with the greatest individual who ever lived for, died for and loved the world’s countless masses-Jesus Christ!

Mankind must unite. We have heard its groanings for years; and of late have seen these groanings accompanied by violent stirrings. Birth is near. But will it be the birth of a monster or will it be the birth of the Mystical Body of Christ in all its fullness? That is the all important question of our day! The only important one.

The impulse towards unshakable solidarity has manifested itself in a series of “isms” that have torn the world. The impulse is good. Every Catholic thinker knows the instinct. Mankind wants to become one. It is but following the urge of its being. But as yet it is blind to the proper means. The informed Catholic knows where, and how, complete and absolute solidarity is to be had, a solidarity and a totalitarianism that leaves the movements of Russia, Italy and Germany looking like amateurish efforts to attain an external coherence. The well-informed Catholic knows that we all may be and should be one-in Christ Jesus! And the really well-informed knows that the modern movement of the Twentieth Century is just twenty centuries old. It is beautifully expressed, showing the means and the end, in the words of St. Paul, he who had been Saul of Tarsus but who became Christ’s firebrand. He said, “The chalice of benediction, which we bless, is it not the communion of the Blood of Christ. And the bread, which we break, is it not the partaking of the Body of the Lord? For we, being many, are one bread, one body, all that partake of one Bread.”

St. Augustine followed him some four centuries later and said: “The faithful know the Body of Christ, if they do not fail to be the Body of Christ. Let them become the Body of Christ if they wish to live. . . . He who wills to live has here the place to live, has here the source of life. Let him approach, let him be incorporated, that he may receive life.

And we, in our own humble way, echo these giants of God as we ask you: Do you want life and love?-If so, receive your God; for as St. Thomas so succinctly says, “The effect of this Sacrament is union with the Mystical Body of Christ”; and you yourself know that a member not joined to the body dies! Be in tune with the times then and cry:

GIVE US SOMETHING WHITE

We have had too much of red and brown and black, too much of false unionism, too much despair, hatred and death. Give us something white, that we may live and have love.

The world’s salvation does not lie under red, black or brown. No! Never! Christ was white on Calvary-bled white by the sins of men-and in that whiteness was our salvation. Christ was white on Thabor-whiter than the snow, more shining than the sun. Christ was white on Easter-white with the glory of a glistening triumph; a triumph that came only through surrender, the surrender of the rich red of His own Blood. Christ is white on our altars-that you and I, and all the world may have whiteness of soul, whiteness of conscience, whiteness of hope, whiteness of life, and a love that has been heated to a heat that glows white. That is what the world needs, and needs badly-the White Christ! And when I say “the world” I mean YOU-for the world is reached only through the individual!

Our sorry world needs whiteness-a union of all colors! Our sorry world can have whiteness if the individuals of all colors will fuse themselves in the White Christ; if all men will become vital members of the Mystical Body of the shining white Jesus. O, how we need that whiteness! Red as we are with Communism, brown as we are with Nazism, black as we are with Fascism, we can become pure white with Mysticism, the mysticism of Christ. Look at our sorry old world! It is red with deadly hate, yellowish brown with the jaundice of murderous envy, and black with the ugly black of despair; and yet, it can be converted to the living of all living, fused in the Body that will never decay, and glow with the brilliant white glow of the glorious Christ! The Holy Eucharist can do it! But man must do HIS PART!

For decades now the world has been crying for political leaders and economic leaders; to-day it is crying aloud for military leaders; while all the time what the world has needed and yet needs is Eucharistic leaders! There is only one Savior of the world and only one means to world salvation. He is Jesus Christ, “the same yesterday, today and forever.” The Jesus Christ who nineteen hundred years ago became incarnate, and who for nineteen hundred years has remained “incarnate” on our altars, for the sole purpose of giving all men life and love by allowing them to become “incarnated” in Him! The salvation of the world lies in a radical revolution-the total incorporation of all mankind in the Mystical Body of Jesus, the complete transubstantiation of the body and blood of every individual through the Body and Blood of the world’s greatest Individual, into a single luminously white Body that will breathe with a breath divine, live with a life divine and love with the Heart of God! The world’s revolution is a success and the world’s regeneration accomplished when the myriad millions of hungry men and women, who now stand outside the doors of the Church crying for the Bread of Life, are taken in by the other millions who are in the Church and made one bread, one body, because partakers of the One White Bread which is the Body and Blood of Jesus Christ.

So surfeited have we been with passionate appeals, that we instinctively distrust anything that has a rhetorical swing to it. I am cognizant of that reaction and yet, cannot refrain from becoming passionate as I think of and write about you, the world, and our Mystical Body. When I give you that trinity I am naming a unity; for I am thinking about and writing about our Christ; because there is only ONE Jesus-the WHOLE CHRIST-He, the Head, and we, the myriad members. And when one thinks of Him, one cannot be cool. But lest I seem too generic as I cry and ask you to cry for something white, let me tell you that I am only begging you to be a tiny white corpuscle in the flowing blood plasma of the Mystical Body of Christ. That is how the world’s salvation

DEPENDS ON YOU

You know what the blood stream means to the human body-it means its life, its growth, its preservation and its repair. In that blood stream are red and white corpuscles; tiny things, but they contribute tremendously to the wellbeing of the whole. The analogy, then, is obvious. You are small. You are a lone individual, lost in the surging masses of the world. Though tiny you can contribute tremendously to the well-being of the whole Mystical Body of Christ. If you become white with the whiteness of the Eucharistic Jesus, then you can go out into the sweeping tides of men and bring them life and love as you bring them the health-giving whiteness of Christ.

If you are a Doctor, you will be a Catholic, Christ-like doctor; administering the sacrament of healing after the manner of the Divine Physician and the Good Samaritan. You will know that certain operations are illegal, not because the State forbids them but because God forbids them. You will know that mercy killings are sinful murder, and that certain practices of Eugenics, purporting to be for the good of the race cannot be performed because they are outrages to the sanctity of the individual. In a hundred and one ways you can preach by your practices! In a hundred and one ways you can prove yourself a priest ofGod, consecrated to minister unto the needs of the soul’s garment of clay, the temple of the Holy Ghost. In a hundred and one ways you can be like unto the God in whom you live and move and have your being, provided you take advantage of the One who said:”I am the Way!” Be Eucharistic and you will be a Catholic Doctor, a white corpuscle in the Blood Stream of the Mystical Body; and like the Christ, you will “go about doing good.”

If you are a Nurse, more avenues are open to you. You can be all that the Doctor is and more. You are a woman, and to you women will come to talk of womanly troubles. They will play on the sympathy that is yours because you are a woman; and they will ask your information and cooperation in things that should not be! You will be a white corpuscle of Christ by denying the information and refusing the cooperation. Then you will go further. You will lead these tried souls to the truth that Ethics are above Economics; to the truth that an inviolate soul is much better than an intact body; to the truth that selfishness for the sake of God is much better than satisfaction for the sake of man; you will lead them to Him who said: “I am the Truth!” You will tactfully lead them to Him who came forth a Baby from the womb of a woman, and show them that their greatest glory on earth is to be a mother to a member of the Mystical Body of Christ. You will do all this wonderful work of nursing under one condition-that you become whiter than the uniform you wear, that you become as white as the Host that holds your God! You will do all this wonderful work under the one condition that you become thoroughly Eucharistic!

If you are a Lawyer, you will be a Catholic lawyer, an advocate for the world’s great Lawgiver. You will know that the law of the land is only law when it is a clarification of and in close harmony with the law of God. You will plead for a white righteousness. You will live your legal ethics, remembering that Christ said: “What, therefore, God hath joined together, let no man put asunder.” You will argue and plead in such a way that those who hear you will say of you what was said to Peter; they will say: “Thou also art one of them, for even thy speech doth discover thee.” And though a cock should crow, you will not deny the Galilean. You will hunger and thirst after justice because of the Just One who spoke the eight beatitudes. You will be a white corpuscle whose one work is to bring truth and light and justice to the other members of Christ’s Mystical Body.

If you are an Educator, you will glory in bringing light to the minds of youth, and the minds of youth to Him who said: “I am the Light of the world.” You will know that there is but one science-and that the science of the saints; that there is but one art-and that the art of living the life of all living, the life of the Mystical Body. You will know that every branch of learning must lead to the trunk and contribute to the one great knowledge-the knowledge of God and of Him whom He sent-Jesus Christ! You will know that education, to be education, must be Christian education, and that means the methodical reformation of the child deformed by original sin, in order to conform him to Christ. You will therefore, give a Christian training, and that means a gradual restoration in the soul, heart and mind of man of the Divine Image which has been defaced by sin. You will labor to form Christian characters by purifying the imaginations, strengthening the wills and ennobling the emotions of all that come under your care. You will be wise with the wisdom of Don Bosco who said: “I know but two educational instruments-Holy Communion and the rod; and I have given up the rod!” You will be a leucocyte in the Blood stream of Christ’s Mystical Body as you reproduce the Teacher of all teachers, who said:”Suffer the little children to come unto Me.”

If you are a mother or a father, need I tell you that you can make the world white? Of all the many urgent problems that clamor for attention and demand a correct solution, the most urgent and most clamorous is the preservation of the family. Let me tell you that I have many things for which I thank God; but for nothing do I thank Him more heartily than for the father and mother who taught me from earliest boyhood to be a daily communicant, and who insisted that the family break its fast every Sunday morning at the altar rail!

It is very laudable to forbid the filthy newspaper to your home and command the avoidance of the immoral movie; it is highly commendable to watch over the recreations, the associations and the companionships of your young; but let me tell you that you will be laboring in vain to make them clean, keep them clean and raise them right, unless you make them most intimate associates and closest companions to Jesus in the Eucharist.

Mothers and fathers, the healthiness of the Blood stream in Christ’s Mystical Body depends almost entirely upon YOU!

But why should I further enumerate? No matter what our walk in life, we all have but one role-it is to be militant Catholics, lifegiving members of Christ’s Mystical Body; it is to

BE DIFFERENT

It is the desire to do what others are doing that kills devotion and cripples anything like real Catholic Action. It is human respect that keeps us from becoming divine. It is a cowardliness, a being afraid of what others will say or think, that keeps us from being heroes after the pattern of the Hero of Gethsemane and Golgotha. It is a conformity to the ways of the world, a conformity to its way of dressing and thinking and acting, that keeps us from conformity to Christ. What a shame! We were not born or baptized to ape the world. We were stamped as Christians to be followers of Him who said of His disciples: “I have chosen you out of the world”; who said: “Fear not; I have overcome the world”; who said: “My Kingdom is not of this world.” How traitorous of us then, to be in the world, of the world and like the world! We have failed in our specific mission to the world up to this moment; and why?-Because we have not been different from the world!

I say all this conscious of the fact that on the opening day of the Twenty-eighth International Eucharistic Congress there were over a million who received the Eucharist in the single city of Chicago. That was once. Why not similar multitudes every Sunday and in every city? It is the same Christ! He longs for the same homage and devotion. And we need His same life and love!

I have said all this conscious of the fact that during that same Congress 62,000 voices of children sang the Mass of the Angels and changed Chicago into a city of angelic song. I know, too, that 230,000 men joined in a vesper pledge to their Eucharistic King that shook the city; I know that they then lit candles in honor of the Light of the world, and the onlookers gasped: “Isn’t that beautiful!” It was. It was inspiring. It was tremendous. And I also know that half a million people were at Mundelein for the close of that Congress. But you see, my question is: Have those children continued to sing to the King of Angels? Have those men lived their Eucharistic pledge? Have those countless worshippers who thronged to Mundelein been white corpuscles in Christ’s Mystical Body? Were those closing prayers of praise: “Blessed be God. Blessed be His Holy Name,” meant? My question is: Why only once?

And I am not forgetting the Seventh National Eucharistic Congress at Cleveland. No one could forget that Midnight Mass when the Municipal Stadium was crowded and over-crowded; when, after a Holy Hour spent in prayer and adoration by almost 200,000 men, the Apostolic Delegate went into the little house of glass that sheltered the altar, to bring the White Christ into the White Host that He might receive the white-hot love and fealty of the hundreds of thousands of men, and that the hundreds of thousands of men might receive the white life and the white love of their White-hosted God. No, none can forget that Mass, nor the moment when all the floodlights were snapped off and then here, then there, then everywhere tiny candle glows appeared. That was being different! And out over the waters of Erie’s Lake went the self-same sentence that once travelled over the waters of Genesareth’s Lake: “It is the Lord!”

And who could forget the close of that Congress? Half a million people sang litanies and answered prayers as a parade through Cleveland’s streets turned into a procession, swung into a crowded Stadium, and on the floor of that vast arena formed a human monstrance of gigantic proportions, symmetrical, beautiful, breath-taking. Then under the gleaming swords of the Knights of Columbus, who formed the jeweled stem of that monstrance, marched our late beloved Cardinal Hayes, holding in his hands the Eucharistic Christ. In his wake the Knights fell into place, and as the Eucharistic Christ was placed on the altar, the human monstrance went to its adoring knees. For once Jesus was monstranced as He longs to be and as He loves to be-monstranced in the flesh of man!

It seems to me that the whole Congress was symbolized in that one ceremony; and that our whole life is expressed in that one symbol. Have you or I any other business in this world than to be Christ’s human monstrance? And it is the memory of Cleveland’s gigantic and authentic symbol that prompts me to ask you today: Are you monstrancing Christ? Are you showing forth the White Jesus to the reds, the browns, the blacks and the colorless ones of the world? Are you showing forth the Jesus of life and love to our own America?

My question is pertinent and practical. You are a social being. Your life and love affect the lives and loves of the whole Mystical Body, and the Mystical Body in America needs greater life and greater love! My claim is this:

A PERSONAL DEVOTION ON THE PART OF EVERY CATHOLIC TO OUR EUCHARISTIC KING WILL, WITHIN A GENERATION, CHANGE THE WHOLE ASPECT OF THE MYSTICAL BODY OF CHRIST IN THIS COUNTRY

We are great. But we should be, and we could be, and we must be greater! Souls, more souls, into intimate contact with Christ is my cry. Stop our Catholic leakage and swing the drifting millions of Protestants, Indifferentists, and Atheists into the Bloodstream of Christ’s Mystical Body. We have nothing to boast of in our converts. A Church that has, here in America, over 35,000 priests, over 22 million members, a school system that is second to none, a rosary of charitable institutions that reaches around the world, a Church that has centuries of tradition and scholarship behind her, and, above all, a Church that has upon her altars and within her soul the Eucharistic King, should blush to boast of the 76,700 converts of the past year. It is paltry!

America is not a Protestant country, despite the repeated lie of the secular press. If one wishes to designate the religion of our country rightly, he must say that it is more Catholic than anything else; for the Catholic religion is the majority religion in America. Protestantism is practically dead. Here then is your practical challenge. There are a hundred million and more non-Catholics surrounding you. Five-sixths of your fellow countrymen neither know nor honor your Eucharistic Christ. What are YOU doing for them and for Him? What are you doing for yourself? For remember, you do not go to Heaven or to Hell alone! No. You are a social being, and you always drag down or lift up others with you. That is your terrible responsibility and your thrilling inspiration. You can feed hungry men; you can lead the lame, the blind and the halt. You can convert souls to Christ.

There is your social vocation! Live in the strong, health-giving sunlight of faith, train yourself to intense Catholic activity, feed daily on the strong meat of the Eucharist, then you can talk to your neighbor about the Christ who is your life and your love. Then you can take the hands of your daily companions in the office, shop or store and bring them to your Changeless Friend and their Divine Redeemer. It is the opinion of the thoroughly informed and widely experienced that the vast majority of American non-Catholics need only a friendly hand to grasp their own waiting hand and say, “It is YOUR Father’s home as well as mine. We are brothers, children of the same God. Let us go together into our home, to the life-giving, lovefilled Banquet prepared by our Savior!”

You have been called to the Royal Priesthood of Christ. Do not leave all the work to a few consecrated clergy. Be different from what you have been! You must be different, for today, you have to answer one of

TWO VOICES

The call of the world or the call of our Eucharistic Christ. In this day of upheaval the lines are strongly drawn. You will become a member of the Mystical Body of Christ or you will become a member of the mystical body of antiChrist. There is no fence to straddle, no island on which to stand. It is for Christ or against Christ. You either gather or you scatter. You will be a totalitarian Christian or you will be a totalitarian anti-Christian (whether that be called Communist, Fascist, Nazi or material Atheist).

Our late Holy Father, Pius XI, hesitated not to say that seemingly anti-Christ had arisen in the bold, brazen movement of materialistic atheism. Monsignor Fulton Sheen shrinks not from labeling the world-wide movements of collectivism-the mystical body of AntiChrist. Hilaire Belloc uses no coloring adjectives as he says: “The last generation could talk of “the Churches.” The present generation cannot. There are not many Churches. There is only one. It is the Catholic Church on the one side, and its mortal enemy on the other. The lists are set.” That is why I unqualifiedly say: You must answer one of two voices. It is either the paganistic, atheistic, materialistic, animalistic, “Eat, drink and make merry”;-or the Catholic, divinely human and humanly divine call of Christ,”Eat-Drink-and make-holy!”

It is the call to Catholic Action that is sounding. But let it be remembered that the essential action of Catholic Action is the action that we call “The Mass.” Let it be further remembered that the great Sacrament of Catholic Action is the Sacrament of the altar, the Sacrament of the Body and Blood of Jesus Christ, the Sacrament of the Eucharist.

To stand steadfast in the white ranks of God against the multi-colored masses of the godless, annual communion will not do, monthly communion will not do, weekly communion will hardly suffice-DAILY COMMUNION IS THE NEED!

Busy men may plead their work, their cares, their worries, their bodily health, as their excuses for neglecting daily Mass and Communion, when, in reality, these are the very things that should drive them to Him who is both Mass and Communion; for He has said, “Come to Me all you who labor and are heavily burdened, and I will refresh you.” Excuses are admissions of lack of Faith, lack of appreciation, lack of love, and an open confession of laziness!

I know that if you could call on the President every morning, you would do it. I know that if you could ask for what you wanted from this dispenser of patronage and ruler of millions, you would never pass him by. I know that if the White House was open to you any hour of the day and night, you would be a frequent visitor. There would be no excuse. Don’t you believe that God is as powerful, as generous, and as ready to help YOU?

I have brought you up to the present moment with that last comparison; let me now take you back over the years as I list for you the effects of the Eucharist as they stand in our little catechisms. They read: The Holy Eucharist 1) unites our body and soul to Christ in the intimate union of love; -Do YOU want LOVE? 2) increases Sanctifying Grace for the nourishment of our souls; -Do YOU want LIFE? 3) cleanses from venial and preserves from mortal sin;-Do YOU want to be CLEAN? 4) weakens our evil inclinations; -Aren’t YOURS strong?

5) is a pledge of the resurrection of the body and of eternal life; -Don’t YOU want that? 6) lessens temporal punishment due to sin-Aren’t YOUR debts HEAVY?

7) gives strength to carry out in our lives the principles of Catholic Action. -YOU need that

STRENGTH

Friend of mine, yours is a glorious opportunity. The fields are white with the harvest, the skies are white with the dawning, our hearts are white with hope, for Christ is White in the Eucharist. He can transubstantiate individuals; individuals can transubstantiate families; families, the communities; the communities, the cities; the cities, the states; the states, the nations; and the nations the world. No matter how dark the day or night, all is white for those who know, love, serve and daily receive Christ.

He converted a world more pagan than ours. His Church survived worse times than ours. She survived a Diocletian and a Henry the VIII. Why then should you or I fear a Hitler, a Stalin or any of their breed? We need not!

PROVIDED. . . . Provided, I say, we, like the early Christians, feed on the Bread that makes men strong and drink the Wine that germinates virgins!

The Voice for you and me to answer is the Voice of Christ. It says: “Come to Me!” For on the day of the Final Assize, when all the world will have gathered for judgment, when the white veils of the Eucharist have been parted and we see Him “face to face,” we want to be in that mighty mass of humanity which will be held in the paten of His pierced hands and lifted up to His Father as He says: “THIS IS MY BODY-MY MYSTICAL BODY! MY BLOOD WAS NOT SHED IN VAIN.”

Friend of mine, do you really want life?-Then lose it! lose yours in the life of Him who said: “I am the Life.”

Do you really want love?-Then give your heart away! Give it all to Him who pleads: “My child, give Me thy heart.”

Do you know how to do both of these things?-Allow a priest to place upon your tongue the Body and Blood of the Deathless and lovefilled Christ and pray, “MAY THE BODY OF OUR LORD JESUS CHRIST GUARD YOUR SOUL UNTO LIFE EVERLASTING. AMEN.”

If you want life and love-be a daily intimate of Jesus Christ in the Eucharist!

NIHIL OBSTAT:

FR. M. ALBERICUS WULF, O.C.S.O.

FR. M. MAURICE MALLOY, O.C.S.O. Censores

IMPRIMI POTEST:

@ FREDERICUS M. DUNNE, O.C.S.O. Abbas B.M. de Gethsemani

NIHIL OBSTAT:

MSGR. HENRY F. DUGAN, J.C.D. die 8a Julii, 1941.

Censor Deputatus

IMPRIMATUR:

@ JOSEPH E. RITTER, D.D. die 9a Julii, 1941.

Episcopus Indianapolitanus

********

A Visit To A Catholic Church

BY REV. P. RYAN

INDEX

INTRODUCTION

Many non-Catholics entering a Catholic church for the first time are surprised to find how much it differs from their own churches in its furnishings and arrangement. For this reason, then, it is a very practical part of their instruction (if they are to become Catholics) that the church itself be explained to them, since a great part of the Catholic Faith is expressed in the pictures, windows and furniture that are in the building. Lessons in the Faith thus learnt from personal observation repeat themselves each time the church is visited, and are usually far more lasting than those learnt only from the pages of a book.

This booklet is intended as a guide to converts on their early visits to a Catholic church, and as a help to make them feel more at home in their new church.

The explanations given will also be useful to Catholics who do not fully understand the purposes or the history of various furnishings of the church in which they pray so often.

CHAPTER I

THE BODY OF THE CHURCH

ARCHITECTURE

The church is a building that is always different from the surrounding buildings and it is recognisable as a church. Its purpose as a meeting place for large assemblies of people demands special architectural construction, and as it belongs to God (it is called the “House of God”) we find that there is lavished upon it the best in art and craft that the faithful can give. There is no special Christian style of architecture, the Church of God is spread throughout the world and embraces the architecture of every nation and age. Many of our churches in this country are built in the “Gothic” style, which grew up in Europe as the popular church architecture in the twelfth century and was revived during the reign of Queen Victoria for church building. However, this style is undergoing modifications to suit the climatic conditions and popular needs of Australia; and being fused with styles of architecture such as the Classic, Romanesque and Spanish, we see some very beautiful churches being built that belong to no particular “style” at all, but are a blending of many. We love our churches, and are proud of them, and all that we desire in their construction is that they be convenient assembly places for all the parishioners and worthy temples of the living God. The church is the dwelling place of God amongst men—“The House of God and the Gate of Heaven!’ (Gen. 28, xvii.)

VESTIBULES

We quite naturally begin our explanation of the Church and its furnishing at the “narthex” or vestibule at the entrance door. The vestibule is not only for the purpose of keeping out the warm or cold draughts of summer or winter, but also it has a religious meaning. It is here that we enter from the noisy business of the world and recollect the presence of God before we enter into that Presence in the church proper. The vestibule or porch reminds us that we are stepping out of a noisy world and stepping into a quiet place of retreat with God. The steps also by which we approach this porch are a reminder that we are leaving below the worries and cares of the world to ascend and be alone with God in the elevation of the Church.

Holy Water Fonts

As we enter the porch, the first object that we see is a small recess in the wall containing water. It is the holy water font. Before we visit our friends we are always careful to see that we are clean and tidy; we wash and dress according as circumstances and the occasion demand. So, too, when we visit the House of God, immediately before entering we sprinkle ourselves with holy water as an outward gesture of the cleansed heart we wish to present to God.

The Catholic, moreover, sprinkles himself in a special way with this blessed water: he does it in the form of a cross, from the forehead to the breast and then to the left and the right shoulder, saying as he does so: “In the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost. Amen!’

It is a prayer in action and also in word. In the action he professes his belief in the death of Jesus Christ upon a cross for our sins; and in the words he professes his belief in the Three Persons in the one God; in the sprinkling of the water he professes his sinfulness and his need of God’s forgiveness that he may be worthy to enter into His presence.

The water is called Holy Water because it is blessed specially by the priest in the name of the Church. As we sprinkle ourselves with It we are reminded of the first cleansing of our souls when water was poured upon us at Baptism, and are helped now by this repeated sprinkling to renew in ourselves that purity of our soul and conscience which we then had.

PEWS

In Australia, our churches are provided with Pews for the convenience of the faithful. In most European countries, however, the Catholic churches are not so furnished but small wicker or wooden chairs may be obtained in the church and taken to that part of the church where the worshipper wishes to be.

During Mass and other sacred functions we sit, kneel and stand during various parts of the service, for we are to worship God not only, with our minds, but also with our bodies. Therefore, we pray aloud at times worshipping Him with the words of our lips; at other times we stand out of honour and respect (as at the reading of the Holy Gospel at Mass); or we kneel in reverence before the greatness of the God whom we worship; or, again, we sit in an attitude of respectful attention when the Word of God Is explained to us in the sermon.

Non-Catholics who come to Mass are often puzzled, and at a loss as to how to conduct themselves. A general rule is the etiquette of the place-they, too, are invited to sit, stand or kneel with the other worshippers; or, if they so choose, they may remain seated during their entire stay in the church.

BAPTISTRY

Near the front entrance there is the baptistry-a small chapel in which stands the baptismal font upon a pedestal. It is situated near the front door, because a part of the ceremonies in the administration of the Sacrament are performed at the church porch, before the candidate for baptism is admitted into the church itself.

The baptismal font is called the womb of Holy Mother Church, from which comes forth a new race of men born to live a spiritual and holy life. The water in the font is blessed with great solemnity on the day that immediately precedes Easter and Pentecost Sunday; it is consecrated by the pouring of the holy oils into it and the Church prays: “Do Thou, 0 God, bless this pure water: that besides its natural power of cleansing the body, it may also be powerful for purifying the soul. In It may the stains of all sins be washed out; here may human nature created to Thine image be cleansed from all the filth of sin; that all who receive this sacrament of new birth may become children of true innocence of life, worthy sons and daughters of their spiritual mother, Holy Church, through Christ our Lord. Amen.”

STATIONS OF THE CROSS

Upon the walls of the church we will usually see crosses placed at regular intervals, and beneath them pictures or images. They are fourteen in number, and are called the “Stations of the Cross!’ Each cross is called a “Station,” and portrays some event in the Passion of Our Lord, from His condemnation at the palace of Pilate to His burial in the tomb beside Calvary.

To visit the Holy Land of Palestine and pray at the places made holy by the blessed footprints of our Saviour is the privilege of very few. But to encourage the excellent practice of meditation upon the Passion of Our Lord, Holy Church, as it were, brings the Holy Land to our own country, even to our own parish, in a miniature representation. We may move from cross to cross and follow each event of the Passion in regular order at each station. The pictures placed beneath each of the crosses are a great help to our prayer, stimulating us to realise more readily the love that moved the Son of God to deliver Himself up to death on our behalf.

No special form of prayer or words are prescribed to be recited while we make the Way of the Cross, except that we meditate upon the Passion of Christ. Most prayer books contain short prayers to be recited at each Station, and these will be found helpful for converts or for those who do not often make the “Stations of the Cross!’

During penitential seasons of the year, the Stations are frequently made by large assemblies of the faithful. The congregation remain in their places in the church, while the priest moves from Station to Station reading a suitable prayer at each. The prayers composed by St. Alphonsus Liguori are perhaps the most often read, and each Stations begins with the versicle: ‘We adore Thee, 0 Christ, and bless Thee!’ At these words all kneel for a moment in adoration of the Son of God crucified for our sins, and rising, reply: ‘Because by Thy holy cross Thou hast redeemed the world!’

Sometimes also between each Station the people or choir sing a verse of a hymn, called the “Stabat Mater,” in which is told in verse the story of the sufferings of Christ and His Mother Mary.

In order that this excellent devotion of the Stations of the Cross may be practised by even the sick, who cannot visit the church, the Bishops of Australia may give power to their priests to bless a crucifix with which the sick person may make the Stations at home and gain all its indulgences. The person holds the crucifix in his hand and, while meditating upon the Passion, recites fourteen times the Our Father, Hail Mary, and Glory be to the Father.

PULPIT

Looking down towards the altar at the far end of the church we see the pulpit usually situated upon the left hand, or “Gospel side,” of the church. Christ sent His Church to preach the Gospel, and the pulpit is the platform from which Sunday after Sunday the faithful hear proclaimed to them the glad tidings that Christ brought to men of good-will.

Holy Church has never failed to preach the Gospel, and it is by preaching, and not by writing, that Christ commanded her to bring the message of salvation to the world: “Go into the whole world and preach the Gospel to every creature.” (Mark, xvi., 15) And St. Paul, echoing these words of Our Lord, wrote to his disciple, St. Timothy: ‘I charge thee, in the sight of God, preach the word; be urgent in season and out of season; reprove, entreat, rebuke with all patience and teaching. For there will come a time when they will not listen to the sound doctrine. But do thou work as a preacher of the Gospel; fulfil thy ministry.” (2 Tim, iv., 5.)

The pulpit is not a platform from which politics are proclaimed nor secular teaching imparted, but rather from it is proclaimed “Christ crucified and risen from the dead,” and the assembled faithful are encouraged and exhorted to persevere upon the road that leads to everlasting life and glory.

In listening to sermons and instructions we should frequently ask God’s help to profit by the instruction or exhortation to which we listen. We should listen with attention and in a humble disposition, for the priest speaks to us as the ambassador of Christ delivering His message to us; and to him we listen as if we were attending to the very voice of our Saviour. The words and delivery may be different, but the message is the same as Christ delivered to the Jews of Palestine 2000 years ago.

CONFESSIONALS

Built into, or along the wall of the church, we will see one or more confessionals. The confessional is a room divided generally into three smaller rooms each just large enough for a single person. The priest sits in the middle room and the penitents kneel facing towards him in the other two. Into each of the dividing walls is cut a square opening covered by a firm lattice grating, and across it is a wooden slide. Moreover, the confessional is built upon the principle that the penitent and priest must hear each other but not necessarily see each other.

The confessional is the court-room of the church, and the priest, as judge, is seated, while the penitent, who is also his own accuser, humbly kneels. The Father Confessor has received from Holy Church the power to forgive and to retain sins according to the words of Christ Himself: Whose sins you shall forgive they are forgiven them, and whose sins you shall retain they are retained!’ (John xxii., 23.) And that he may exercise this power wisely it is necessary that he know the sins which he is to forgive or retain. These the penitent confesses, and hence the name given to the place where he kneels for this self-accusation-confessional.

The Father Confessor is not only a judge but also he is to act towards all who come to him as a Physician, prescribing spiritual medicine that will cure the particular spiritual sickness from which the penitent suffers. For the avaricious he will prescribe alms-giving and generosity. For the self indulgent he will prescribe mortification; for the hasty-tempered he will prescribe practices that require patience; and for all, as the universal remedy for all evils, he will prescribe earnest prayer.

The confessor is also truly a father to all who seek his advice and instruction. A father to all who seek consolation in and anxiety, dispensing the mercy of Christ to all who labour and are heavily burdened by the trials of life; for he occupies the place of his Master who said. “Come to Me all ye who labour and are heavily burdened and I shall refresh you.” (Matt., xi., 28.) He is also ever ready to help those who are afraid or hesitant or find difficulty in the confession of their sins, as may easily occur in the case of those converted to the Church. In this aspect of his ministry he acts as a father rather than as a judge. He is “all things to all men” that he may gain all for Christ and Impart to them the merciful forgiveness and sanctifying grace of the Sacrament of Penance.

Occasionally people may be inclined to ask whether the priest is anxious out of curiosity to hear confessions. No; the priest is anxious to hear confessions not through curiosity, but through zeal that he may restore grace to souls made sorrowful by sin. A great responsibility rests on the priest, for he is responsible before God for the right guidance of each soul that comes to him-and to neglect advise or give erroneous advice may lead to the eternal ruin of an immortal soul

STATUES

Upon the walls or mantelpieces of our homes we frequently place the pictures of those friends or relatives who are dear to us; or of people whose excellence we admire. The church, like our own homes, is God’s Home, and in it we will usually find pictures or statues of God’s friends the saints. And because the saints are our friends also, each parish will be devoted to some saints in particular. Thus, we will usually find a statue or picture of the patron or guardian saint of the church and parish in a prominent position in the church. As Our Lady enjoys the love and veneration of all the faithful far beyond any other saint, there are few churches in which there will not be a statue or picture of her.

On the feast days of the saints their images are adorned with flowers or candles as a mark of the special honour we pay them upon that day, much as in the same way we honour by flowers our war memorials on Armistice or Anzac Day.

We do not worship the statue as do the pagans worship their idols, but we pay honour to it because it is the image of the saint whom we honour and love.

MUSIC AND ORGAN

To the beauty and dignity of our worship of God all the arts render service, and so the words of our prayers are often set to beautiful melodies-that the art of music, too, may pay its homage to God.

Hymns are prayers sung to melody, and no matter how beautiful the melody, how splendid the choral execution-if it be not sung with a prayerful soul it is of no value before God.

It has ever been the tradition of Holy Mother Church that the faithful should take part in the sacred Liturgy, which is arranged somewhat like a drama in which the characters are: the priest, the servers and assistants at the altar, the choir, and the people. Each has a proper part to sing, and it is only during the last few centuries that the part once sung by the people has come to be sung by the choir. This is only a temporary arrangement, and throughout the Church the faithful are learning again the traditional melodies to which their parts have been sung since the earliest Christian times. These beautiful melodies are sung in the music known by the name of Gregorian Chant or plainsong. To those unaccustomed to it, these melodies sound unusual, but once the ear becomes accustomed to its rhythm and cadences it becomes as dear to us of the twentieth century as it has been to all our forefathers throughout the centuries.

It is the model of all church music, and the Holy Father has declared that the suitability of all other music for the church is to be assessed by its nearness to the spirit and beauty of the traditional chant.

To sustain the human voice-so beautiful in Itself-the use of the organ is permitted. This is the only musical instrument to be heard in the church unless the Bishop on some special occasion may permit some other instruments.

CHAPTER II

THE SANCTUARY

ALTAR

At the start of our tour through the church we remarked that the building is so designed that it shall lead the eye to, and concentrate the attention of the worshipper upon the altar placed at the far end of the church. For the altar is the most holy and most important furnishing in every Catholic Church.

The altar is a stone table covered by a long cloth reaching to the ground at each side, upon which are placed the bread and wine for the Sacrifice of the Mass. Upon this table of stone the bread and wine are changed into the living Body and Blood of Jesus Christ and offered to God the Father, by Christ Himself, by the priest, and by the faithful. Because this supreme act of worship takes place upon it, we revere the altar as the most sacred place in our church.

The altar itself is consecrated by a Bishop, and five crosses are engraved upon it to symbolise the five wounds that Our Lord received upon the Cross. In the centre of the table (or top) of the altar a small square of stone is carved out and in it are laid the relies of two saints, one of whom is a martyr. The use of a stone rather than a wooden altar, as was usual in the first few centuries of the Church, comes to us from the days when Mass was celebrated in the catacombs upon the stone tombs of the martyrs. When freedom was granted to the Church in 313 A.D. . by the Emperor Constantine, the custom of using a stone altar was retained and later established as law by Pope Sylvester I. ( 337.)

The use of candles, once necessary for light in the catacombs, was also retained.

Moreover, it is a sign of honour and reverence for the Presence of Christ upon the altar. Two wax candles are lit for Mass ordinarily, and six may be used on special festivals. The candle has a beautiful symbolism and is used in the administration of nearly all the Sacraments and blessings of the Church. The wax is a symbol of the sacred human Body of Christ; the wick represents His soul, and the flame the brightness of His Divinity. This symbolism is most ancient and has foundation in the words of Our Lord Himself: ‘I am the light of the world.” (John, viii., 12) Between the candles stands a large crucifix that must always he present when the Sacrifice of the Mass is offered, for it is to remind us of the unity of the sacrifice of Calvary with that celebrated day by day upon the altar under the sacramental appearances of bread and wine.

Upon the altar there is always, in parish churches, a small iron safe with a gilded door; it is placed in the middle of the altar to the edge nearest the wall, and it will be covered by a silken curtain on all sides where its construction makes this possible. It is called the “Tabernacle,” and in it is reserved the Sacred Host.

After the faithful have received Holy Communion at Mass, whatever Sacred Hosts may remain over are placed in the tabernacle and kept there in case it is necessary at any time during the day or night to bring Holy Communion to the sick or dying. The Sacred Host is reserved thus upon the altar also that people may come to the church to visit Christ in His Eucharistic Presence, and honour Him long after the Sacrifice of the Eucharist has been celebrated. The Church thus becomes not merely a building consecrated to God and sanctified by the celebration of the sacred liturgy within its walls, but also the dwelling place of Jesus Christ in the very reality, of His Human Nature.

The reverent behaviour of Catholics in their churches, which so much impresses non-Catholics, is to a considerable Part due to their realisation of the actual Presence of Jesus Christ a short distance away from them in the tabernacle.

Before the tabernacle, either hanging from the roof or supported upon a pedestal, a small oil lamp burns day and night as a silent act of reverence towards the Eucharistic Christ.

Non-Catholics visiting a church in company with a Catholic will notice that their companion, and indeed every Catholic entering the church, before he enters a pew, kneels upon one knee for a moment facing towards the altar. This act of reverence is called a “genuflection” and is an act of faith in and worship of Jesus Christ the Son of God present in the tabernacle upon the altar. Non-Catholics need feel no obligation to perform this same act of reverence unless they already believe in the Presence of Christ in the Eucharist.

COMMUNION RAIL

The sanctuary of the church is separated from, the nave, or main part of the church, by a railing called the “Communion Rail,” or better, the “Altar Rail,” for this rail partly shares in the dignity of the altar itself. Since large numbers of communicants make it extremely difficult for all to approach the altar table, another table, longer and more accessible, is placed at the entrance to the sanctuary, and here the faithful may receive Holy Communion more conveniently and with less delay. This table we call the altar rail, and at the time to receive Holy Communion during the Mass, it is covered by a long, linen cloth. The altar rail is also very useful at other times for the administration of the sacramentals, or blessings of the Church, such as the distribution of ashes upon Ash Wednesday, or of palms upon Palm Sunday or the adoration of the Cross upon Good Friday.

CHAPTER III

THE SACRISTY

To the side or rear of the church is built the Sacristy that opens out by a door into the sanctuary. It is here that the priest and his attendants or servers vest for the sacred ceremonies, and here are stored all that is necessary for use in the church.

VESTMENTS

In a large case in the sacristy are stored the sacred vestments for Mass. Because of the dignity of the Sacrifice of the Mass it is fitting that the celebrant and his assistants should be dressed in clothes of more than usual value. The layfolk, too, put on their “Sunday best” for the occasion. In the first centuries of the Church the priest wore the ordinary clothes of the period, though of the best materials. As years went by, the fashions changed, but the priest still continued to wear the special clothes kept at the church for the celebration of Mass. The clothes were then used only at Mass, and have remained substantially unchanged until our own times, and we call them vestments.

The vestments for Mass are six in number:

1. The Amice or linen cloth tied across both shoulders and tucked about the neck. It was used in the Middle Ages to keep the neck and head warm.

2. Alb. The Alb is the large white linen vestment reaching from the shoulders to the feet. In its shortened form it is what we knowas a man’s shirt.

3. Cincture. The Cincture is a linen girdle that gathers the Alb at the waist and causes it to fall in graceful folds to the feet. Our modem equivalent is the belt or girdle.

4. Maniple. The Maniple is the coloured length of vestment that hangs over the wrist on the left arm. It was carried as a handkerchief, in much the same way as people now carry their handkerchief in their sleeve.

5. Stole. The Stole is the symbol of priestly ordination, and is worn in the administration of all the Sacraments. It is a long, thin vestment, measuring about 8ft. long by 4in. wide. The priest, for Mass, wears it around his neck, across his shoulders, crossed upon his chest, and hanging down in front. For the Sacraments he does not cross it in front, but lets it hang over his shoulders and straight down in front. The scarf that we wear in the cool weather to keep the neck and chest warm is a modern equivalent of the stole.

6. Chasuble. The Chasuble is the largest of the coloured vestment, and is put on last, to cover all the others. It derives its name from the Latin word, “Casula,” which means “a little house.” It was worn at Rome in the wet weather and was shaped in the form, of a bell with a single opening at the top for the head. It was like the modern sleeveless raincoat that children frequently wear.

In the course of centuries, the inconvenience of having no sleeves, and the corresponding necessity of having to lift up the vestment from the lower end to free the arms during the sacred ceremonies, led to a cutting away of the vestment at each side, so that now the sides have completely vanished and back and front alone remain.

In more recent times there has been a tendency to return to the original shape and to put back the sides. Thus, a little diversity exists from one church to another, according to the preference of the local clergy, for the one or the other style. Both are approved of by the Church.

The colours of the vestments may be either White (on feast days of Christ, Our Lady, and saints who are not martyrs); Red (on feast days of the martyrs and Mass at Pentecost); Green (on Sundays after Pentecost); ‘Violet (at times of Penance-e .g, Lent); Black (for Masses offered for the dead); Rose (on the fourth Sunday of Lent and the third Sunday of Advent). According to the colour demanded by the festival day, the Chasuble, Stole and Maniple are worn to suit. The sacred vestments lend dignity and splendour to the sacred liturgy, and their beauty gives glory to the God in Whose honour they are worn.

CHALICE

The Chalice and the paten are the cup and plate used in the celebration of the Eucharistic Sacrifice. The cup is to contain the wine.

The plate to receive the bread, that are changed into the Blood and Body of Our Saviour. As these sacred vessels are in such intimate contact with the Eucharist it is the law of the Church that the Chalice shall be at least plated with gold on the inside, and the paten on the upper or concave side. Only those in Holy Orders may touch the Chalice and Paten , unless for some good reason they give permission to another to do so. Generally, the Chalice is made of silver or gold, and it has been the delight of the goldsmiths and designers of all ages to construct graceful and beautifully ornamented chalices, for no cup can be too beautiful to contain the very Blood of the Son of God.

At the beginning of Mass the priest enters the sanctuary carrying the chalice, which is covered by a veil, the same colour as the vestment he wears. The chalice remains veiled until it is used at the Offertory.

HOLY OILS

At the side of the sanctuary is a small cupboard or ambry, and locked in this are the Holy Oils. The Holy Oils are blessed with great solemnity by the Bishop on Holy Thursday, and then given to every church in the diocese. There are three different Holy Oils: the oil for the sick used for the Sacrament of the last anointing; the Holy Chrism used in solemn consecrations, at Confirmation and for the anointing immediately following Baptism; the Oil of Catechumens used for anointing in the ceremonies immediately before Baptism, and also in solemn consecrations.

The Oil of the Sick and the Oil of Catechumens is pure olive oil, while the Holy Chrism is a mixture of olive oil and balsam. Sometimes for more convenience the Holy Oils are reserved in the sacristy.

MISSAL

The large prayer book from which the priest reads the prayers of the Mass is called the Missal, or Mass-book. Of the prayers read at Mass each day some are always the same, while others change.

The Missal contains both the fixed and the variable prayers for every day of the year. It is written in Lain, for Latin was the language used by the Church of Rome at the time that the prayers for Mass were composed. The Prayers recited during the “Canon” of the Mass; i.e., the prayers just before and after the Consecration, are in substance, as ancient as the first century, and they are the same for each day of the year.

The other prayers and lessons from the Holy Bible read each day have remained the same since the days of St. Gregory the Great (604). New prayers and lessons have been added for the feast days, of new saints, but substantially the greater Part of the Missal as we have it today has been prayed and read by Priests and faithful for fourteen centuries or more.

Although the text Used by the priest at Mass is in Latin, translations of the mass are easily obtainable for the use of the faithful. For the ideal way of assisting at the Holy Mass is to follow the priest in every prayer he recites—he is praying for us and we will best join in that prayer by reciting the same words as he.

The Missal also provides us with an abundance of Prayers that we may recite, even when not assisting at Mass—as for example, at our morning or night prayers, at visits to the Blessed Sacrament, etc.

CHAPTER IV

CHURCH MANNERS,

It is to be expected that in the Church of God there should be some special customs and ceremonies for those entering into God’s House, just as when we visit the Pope or the King there are special forms of conduct to be observed. The following should be observed if we would conduct ourselves worthily in so holy a building as the Church.

LOW MASS

Stand as the celebrant enters and leaves the sanctuary, and for the First and Last Gospels, and for the Creed. Sit for the sermon and Offertory and Preface. Kneel for all other parts of the Mass.

SUNG MASS (MISSA CANTATA)

1. Stand as the celebrant enters.

2. Kneel during the prayers at the foot of the altar.

3. Stand as the celebrant ascends the altar steps.

4. Sit (if the celebrant does so) during the singing of the “Kyrie.”

5. Stand when the celebrant returns to the altar.

6. Sit when the celebrant sits during the “Gloria. “

7. Stand as the celebrant returns to the altar and while he sings the Collects

8. Sit for the Epistle.

9. Stand for the Gospel.

10. Sit for the sermon.

11. Stand while the celebrant says the Creed and genuflect with the celebrant sit when he sits for the singing of the Creed.

12. Stand as he returns to the altar.

13. Sit during the Offertory.

14. Stand for the Preface

15 Kneel for the Sanctus and until after the Consecration

16. Stand after the Consecration till after the Communion.

17. If there are some people to receive Holy Communion kneel when the priest opens the tabernacle and remain kneeling until he closes it.

18. Sit after the communion

19. Stand when the celebrant has read the Communion Antiphon

20. Kneel for the blessing

21. Stand for the Last Gospel and genuflect with the celebrant.

22. Remain standing until the priest has left the sanctuary.

HIGH MASS

The same as for Missa Cantata except, stand after the priest is incensed at the Offertory and remain standing until the Sanctus.

GENERAL CONDUCT

When in doubt as to the correct procedure at a liturgical ceremony, follow the “altar servers”; i.e stand, kneel, or sit when they do so.

Strict silence should he observed at all times within the church. Do not talk, even in the porch or vestibule of the church.

Take Holy Water when entering the church for it is intended to remind you to cleanse your mind of all other thoughts save of God.

Do not throw confetti in the church grounds, it is like dumping rubbish in a neighbour’s garden, but in this case it is God’s garden.

Respect for God’s House forbids the customary signs of affection and congratulation to be indulged in, as a bride and bridegroom are walking out of the church.

While waiting for a wedding, the faithful should engage in talk with God and not with one another: “My House is a House of Prayer,” said Our Lord.

Do not leave your place in the church until the priest has left the sanctuary.

When entering or leaving your seat, genuflect; i.e., let your right knee touch the floor.

Do not walk up the aisle while the priest is speaking from the pulpit

Do not stand if there are seats available.

Do not make others crawl over you.

Do not read anything but a prayer book in the church, religious papers should not be read in the church.

Don’t put wet umbrellas or wet coats on the seats that others will have to use at a later Mass.

Parents, do not let your children scratch the polished seats; never let them stand on them.

Do not drop things on the floor. If you see anything on the floor pick it up. Prove to God that you love the beauty and tidiness of His House as much as your own.

Do not rattle your rosary beads unnecessarily.

Do not pray in solo; keep together with all the others who are answering the prayers.

At the Last Gospel all kneel when the priest reads the words, “And the Wordwas made Flesh”-arise and stand with him until he has completed the Gospel: “And we saw His glory—the glory as of the Only Begotten Son of God full of grace and truth.”

In approaching the altar rails for Holy Communion go slowly and reverently, with joined hands; do not hasten.

After receiving Holy Communion, close your mouth slowly-do not snap it shut.

When receiving Holy Communion keep your eyes downcast or closed and hold the communion plate under your chin.

Remember that the priest is forbidden to give Holy Communion before Mass unless there is some special reason for doing so. There is a corresponding obligation for the faithful not to receive before Mass unless there is some special reason. Those who can remain till the end, of Mass should not receive Holy Communion before Mass.

In going to Holy Communion please approach, if possible, via the middle aisle and leave via the side aisle.

Always kneel for the whole time during which Holy Communion is being distributed at the altar rails. Sit only if you are unwell.

The proper ending of the Our Father is, “deliver us from evil” not “deliver us from all evil.”

Those who have a true reverence and love of God do not come habitually late for Mass.

Leave the admiration of ladies’ hats, furs, frocks, etc., until you have left the church. Never turn around in church.

The sacristan is the only one permitted to place and arrange flowers on our shrines; leave your flowers at the foot of the statue or just inside the shrine.

If you enter the church when the sanctuary bell is ringing, or Holy Communion is being given-stop and kneel immediately.

Always stand as the funeral procession leaves the church.

Await your correct turn to enter the confessional. Do not jump other people’s claims.

If you are inspecting pamphlets in the rack at the end of the church-do so quietly; please put each one back neatly in the place from which you took it.

Do not talk in the church while waiting for Baptisms. Come punctually at the appointed time.

Please walk quietly in the church, and do not hasten.

Men remove their hats before they enter the church; women should never enter unless their heads are covered. Do not park your motor car in front of the church driveway.

Nihil Obstat:

F. Moynihan,

Censor Deputatus.

Imprimatur:

@ D. Mannix,

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis. 10/7/43

********

A Way To End The Leakage

BY REV. J. LEYCESTER KING, S.J

INDEX

(1) THE FACT OF THE LEAKAGE

There can be few Catholics indeed who have not heard of the Leakage Problem; we have grown all too familiar with the fact that the Church in this country suffers a large annual loss of those who give up the practice of their religion. But it is not generally realized that this Leakage is perhaps the greatest problem which the Church has to face today, a problem on whose solution the whole well-being of Catholicism in this country depends. The plain truth is that so long as this Leakage exists, and because it exists, the Catholic body here will be in a grievously sickly condition, and to a great extent unfitted for the mighty task which lies before it. An unpleasant truth certainly, but a fact which must be faced just because it is true. It is perhaps because this truth is unpalatable that the whole subject is unpopular, and it is to this unpopularity that we must trace the general lack of interest in the matter and the fact that its importance is not recognised.

In past years, efforts have been made by various writers to break through this crust of apathy, but their efforts have had at the most only a partial success. As long ago as 1887, Mr. C. Giles wrote on the subject in The Month, and followed up his article by three others in 1895 and 1896. Mr. James Britten suggested many devices as a remedy in the same periodical, cf. “The Loss of our Boys” (1887), “Our Boys” (1899), etc. More recently Fr. John Wright, S.J. elaborated a scheme of “After-Care,” which is, we believe, still in operation. The matter was thoroughly discussed in two thoughtful articles by the Rev. J. P. Murphy of Gosport in The Month in 1925, and in fact has never long been lost sight of by the Catholic Press. But apart from such organizations as Boy Scouts, Boys” Brigades, and the several Rescue Societies, which only touch a few, no national effort has yet been made to organize a national campaign against the evil. A certain amount of interest has been aroused, only to die down again after a month or two; plans have been made, never to be realized; letters have been written to the papers and ideas exchanged, but the spate of words has brought no effective action in its train; we have seemed to own ourselves baffled, as if a remedy were impossible.

Such activity as there was in this field has been greatly retarded by the War, but there are signs now that this important matter will shortly be brought to the notice of the Catholic public with an insistence which will not be abated until definite and effective action has been initiated. In many places up and down the country, this problem is forcing itself on the attention of those who have the Church’s well-being at heart, and the time seems to have arrived for us to look facts in the face and make up our minds to take concerted, determined and energetic measures with God’s help to bring an end to this steady, heart-breaking loss of souls. The topic of the Leakage was raised recently in one of our leading Catholic weeklies, and for several weeks afterwards its correspondence columns were crowded with letters from those who welcomed a thorough ventilation of the subject; it is clear that among those who are best able to judge in this matter, there is widespread interest and a general impatience to organize some definite course of action to eradicate or at least mitigate this evil.

The publication of this pamphlet may lead some to object that unwelcome truths of this nature should not be made common property, since they are likely to afford undue consolation to the Church’s many enemies and to furnish them with material with which to taunt us;-we should not, in fact, “wash our dirty linen in public.” To such an objection it seems fair to reply that if the only way of getting our linen clean is to wash it in public, then washed in public it must be. But surely we need not be dismayed at the thought that non-Catholics may make capital out of an open discussion of our difficulties; the truth cannot harm us, and an open disclosure of our trouble will even redound to our credit, when the occasion of that disclosure is a determined effort to mend matters. Moreover, since the root cause of the Leakage is to be found in the semi-pagan environment with which Catholics are surrounded, a plain statement of this sort will be not only a humble acknowledgement of our own shortcomings, but also a direct indictment of modern conditions of life which are in such open opposition to Christian ideals. The more violent and vociferous type of nonCatholic will be alarmed by the fact that the problem is being faced, rather than comforted by the thought that it exists; the more serious will recognize a special kind of virility in a Church which will tackle a matter of this sort in the full light of day; the best among them will welcome our efforts to check the modern lapse into paganism and worse.

Again it is to be noted that Catholics who give up the practice of their religion do not, except in rare cases, associate themselves with any of the non-Catholic sects, so that our losses are certainly no gain to any other religious body, though there is a marked tendency for the lapsed Catholic to be drawn into the ranks of Communism and Bolshevism, whose influence may be far more deleterious than that of a colourless non-Catholic sect. (The Communist and Bolshevist propaganda is as effective as it is persistent). Finally, while our problem is aptly referred to as a “Leakage,” others have to face something very like a complete breakdown of the dam.

It has seemed wise to say so much, since it is necessary at the outset to emphasize the fact that the Leakage is of very considerable dimensions. In insisting on this point, there is no intention of putting forward a disparaging or pessimistic view of the Church’s position in this country. In recent years the Church has gone from strength to strength, and her solid progress has surpassed the most sanguine expectations. Never since the “Reformation” have we been so favourably placed, or looked forward to such golden promise. We are entering upon an era fraught with tremendous possibilities, and we are on the whole admirably equipped for our vast campaign. But it is precisely because the hand of the Lord is so visibly with us, that we are bound seriously to consider the Leakage, and make sure that we are consolidating the gains which Almighty God gives us. We are moving onwards certainly, and we are moving fast, but the marvel is that we are not moving faster; and the explanation of that marvel is, simply-The Leakage. When one load is just a little heavier than the other, a balance moves but slowly; add a grain or two to the heavier side, and the scale-pan goes down with a rush. There are many who do not believe in the probability of a great rush of conversions under present conditions, but it may well be that when the Leakage has been stopped, our present steady progress will give way to wholesale gains on even a Pentecostal scale.

(2) THE VOLUME OF THE LEAKAGE

Consequent on the recent publication of articles of his on the subject, the writer has received a large number of letters from interested persons all over the country. Here are some of the epithets they actually apply to the Leakage:-Serious, terrible, wholesale, appalling, 90%, awful, a nightmare, etc., etc. The most satisfactory way of driving home the fact that the volume of the Leakage is very serious would be, of course, to produce reliable statistics. Unfortunately, however, most of the statistics are unreliable and could be used to prove almost anything, though later on we shall show that they can at least be used to suggest to us the limits between which the Leakage may lie. Commenting on the most recent figures available, Fr. H. Thurston, S.J; in”Statistical Progress,” his contribution to the symposium on Catholic Emancipation published in 1929, writes “If we only include under the term Catholic those who fulfil their Easter duties and normally hear Mass on a Sunday, the estimate of 2,156,146 which stands in the Catholic Directory would probably be even excessive. But if, on the other hand, a Catholic be understood to be one who would not repudiate the description himself, who was willing to have his children baptized in the faith and would probably welcome the help of a priest on his death-bed, the evidence seems abundantly to warrant the conclusion that there are at present rather over than under three million souls who, subject to a less rigid interpretation of the term, could fairly be described as Catholics.”

If these figures are accepted, then the “standing Leakage” is in the neighbourhood of one million. We cannot discuss the figures here, but it is possible to marshal a few facts which lend great support to the view that our losses are at least very heavy.

(i) While writers on this subject have often been accused of statistical exaggeration, their critics have scarcely ever suggested that the Leakage was of small or negligible proportions.

(ii) In the opinion of some, present annual increments to the Catholic body are sub-normal, i.e., less than a normal Catholic birth-rate would lead us to expect. According to this view our losses are greater than the gains we make by conversions and the excess of Catholic immigrants over emigrants. It is doubtful, however, whether the figures available warrant us in regarding this general conclusion as proven; but we have very reliable statistics regarding certain isolated towns and districts, and in some cases these figures disclose a most alarming state of affairs. Thus we hear of one large industrial town in the Midlands, whose Catholic population has remained practically stationary while the general population has nearly doubled. In this and similar instances we have definite figures to go on, and we may reasonably suspect an equally bad situation in many other places for which statistics are not available. Clearly, many partial causes may contribute to such a state of affairs, but there can be little doubt that Leakage in some form or other is the chief of these causes.

(iii) Several of the Bishops have taken up a very uncompromising attitude towards mixed marriages. Their Lordships have been led to this largely by the overwhelming evidence of statistics in their possession, showing that such marriages are a most prolific source of Leakage. But the number of mixed marriages in this country is still very high; therefore the volume of the Leakage from this source alone is considerable.

(iv) On all sides personal experience bears out the fact that the Leakage is very large. One is constantly meeting, or hearing of, “ought-tobe” Catholics, and cases are frequently brought to one’s notice in which whole families have been lost to the Church because the parents became lax in the practice of their Faith. This impression is strikingly confirmed when, in any particular district, a systematic search is made for submerged or “ought-tobe” Catholics. In such cases one enquiry leads to another, clues and rumours are followed up, and it is not an uncommon thing even in rural districts to unearth 60 or 70 previously unknown Catholics within a radius of 10 miles or less. Such systematic enquiry is of course the first and most important step in Leakage recovery, with which Leakage prevention is so intimately connected.

(v) Parish priests everywhere tell the same story. Here is a sample from a densely-populated London parish in a poor district: “How many Catholics have you in your parish, Father?” “There are 5,300 that I know of up to the present, but I think that you might well add a nought to this figure if you would include all the unknown Catholics. My curates and myself rarely go out visiting but what we discover three or four or five Catholics who have given up the practice of their religion.”

(vi) Finally, the very nature of the case makes it evident that under present conditions our losses must be very considerable. Although we place such emphasis on the necessity of Catholic education in Catholic surroundings, and make such sacrifices to secure it, yet when once our children leave school there is an almost complete absence of organized and concerted effort on their behalf. We pitchfork them out into a pagan world to fend for themselves at a time when more than ever they need guidance, care, and support. A few moments consideration should suffice to convince us of the pitiful illogicality and futility of the whole proceeding. We are making a supreme effort to keep our schools; nay more, under the guidance of the Hierarchy’s inspiring lead we have registered a determination not to give them up, so far as it lies within our power to prevent it. And after all this heroic self-sacrifice, we are sitting by with arms folded while the very product we have fought and paid for drifts away from us as fast as the current can carry it! This is particularly true of working boys, with whose case this pamphlet is intended specially to deal.

In many cases, perhaps in the majority of cases, when a boy of 14 or 15 starts work, nothing is done to help him. All the care and solicitude lavished on him at school ceases abruptly; instead of being in the midst of Catholic companions, he is often associated with youths and young men whose speech and way of life are a constant challenge to all that he has been taught to respect as just and holy and of good report. The physiological and psychic changes of adolescence demand an adaptation, new experiences crowd on him apace, life puts its myriad questions-and the answers are supplied ready-made, from tainted sources. Amid all this confusion of impressions, in an environment which solicits every sense and faculty with pagan interests and Godless values, at the time above all when the formation of character is trembling in the balance, too often there is not a word of help or a sign of interest from outside. Small wonder if disaster follows!

Humanly speaking, we can devise no educational system which will make a boy proof against such an onslaught, and to allow such conditions to exist must almost inevitably involve the ruin of vast numbers of the Catholic boys who are subjected to them. Add to this the fact that family life and parental control, where indeed they exist at all, become relaxed much earlier than was formerly the case, and it will be seen that we are sending our boys out from school into a fight in which they are foredoomed to failure because we do not back them up. The very way of the world shames us beyond measure in this matter. Night-schools, continuation classes, polytechnic institutes and the like, are found in abundance in all our larger centres of population; business men and industrialists require their employees to have a more complete formation than the elementary school can give them, while we are acting as if the formation of the Christian were substantially completed at the age of 14.

Working boys of 14–17 are too old to care to associate with those still at school, and they are still too young to be taken fully into the society of men; they are therefore in a small class of their own, a class that is largely isolated from outside contact. In this class, Catholic working boys are necessarily in the minority, and from the very start the individual Catholic is swamped by the non-Catholic majority. Such a state of things was bad enough in all conscience before the War, but since the War, and even during the last five or six years, the influence of the non-Catholic environment has become immensely more demoralising. The former general, though vague, reverence for Christian ideals and standards has given way to defiant indifferentism, which has formed almost an ideal atmosphere for the growth of Communism and Bolshevism; if the problem was urgent in thee last century, it is a thousand times more urgent today.

Reverting again to statistics, we find that even by making the most conservative use of the figures available, it is not possible to find reasonable grounds for convincing ourselves that the “Standing Leakage” can be less than about 300,000. (By the term “Standing Leakage” is meant the total of surviving Catholics who have given up the practice of their religion). We have seen already that Fr. Thurston”s estimates favour the conclusion that the “Standing Leakage” is about one million. The Catholic Directory figures for 1930 show 374,169 pupils in elementary schools and 53,897 in secondary schools. We may conclude therefore that about 47,000 Catholic children leave school every year. To account for a “Standing Leakage” of about half-a-million, we have only to suppose that of every 10 children leaving school, 2 cease the practice of their religion very soon after. Now many Catholic elementary school-teachers, who follow up their boys” subsequent careers, assert that considerably more than 2 out of 10 neglect their religion soon after leaving school. These are certainly only very rough statistics, but it may fairly be claimed that they are at any rate in the right order of magnitude. Let us not quarrel as to whether we lose 5,000 or 10,000 or 15,000 a year by Leakage, and agree instead that at the lowest probable figure this steady drain year after year results in a “Standing Leakage” of appalling dimensions.

One last consideration in this connection, at the risk of seeming to labour the point-does not our very familiarity with the Leakage, and the widespread indifference with regard to it, prove our contention conclusively? The lapse of a single Catholic is a most frightful calamity, a thing at which the very angels might weep, a cause of unutterable sorrow to the Church. If such a lapse were a rare occurrence, we should be shocked beyond measure when it happened, it would fill our hearts with deep sorrow, we should storm Heaven with our prayers and never cease our efforts for the wanderer as long as life still gave hope of his return. But as things are at present, we have become accustomed to regard this steady drain of thousands of souls as a normal occurrence, something to be expected and indeed almost inevitable. Surely we must rouse ourselves to the conviction that The Leakage, far from being normal, is a ghastly and calamitous abnormality, a constant loss of carefully trained troops who lay down their arms without striking a single blow in the Church’s battle. If our consciences cannot be stirred, then at least our instinct for self-preservation must be aroused.

(3) CAUSES OF THE LEAKAGE

Among the manifold causes of Leakage, four are of outstanding importance: -(i) Lack of due religious training and formation in the home; (ii) Defective and unsuitable training in the school; (iii) Failure to follow up home and school training with effective after-care work; (iv) The isolation and virtual abandonment of many rural Catholics. Regarding the first two causes, keen and fruitful discussion is now going on in the Catholic Press; suggestions towards a solution of some of the difficulties in rural districts have already been embodied in a. . . .  pamphlet “Our Lady’s Catechists” (R 92), and it is hoped that something further regarding this matter will be published; the present pamphlet aims at proposing a way of remedying the third cause of Leakage, i.e., lack of organized after-care for Catholic children when they leave school. Although great emphasis will be laid on the importance of this after-care, yet this is in no way intended to detract from the necessity of adequate home and school training, for without these, after-care would be merely rescue work.

The value of thoroughly Catholic home life can scarcely be over-estimated, the Catholic family is quite definitely the seed-plot in which the soul of the child should receive its early nurture and first formation. To be born and bred in a really Catholic home, to be loved and cared forby thoroughly Catholic parents, to live one’s early years with the example of Catholic virtue and piety constantly before one’s eyes, these are advantages of the very highest order. To be deprived of such advantages is to miss one of God’s choicest blessings; but to be brought up amid laxity and bad example is to be terribly handicapped from the very start. To realize the guilt of causing such a handicap, we have only to recall Our Lord’s words: “He that shall scandalize one of these little ones that believe in me, it were better for him that a millstone should be hanged about his neck, and that he should be drowned in the depths of the sea” (Matt. xviii. t6). Throughout the whole Church of God no apostolic work is more solid or lasting than the work of the Catholic parent in the home, which is indeed of such value that nothing else can take its place.

Home formation is seconded and supplemented by the Catholic school. It must be noted that the school never entirely takes the place of the parents, but rather acts in partnership with them and on their behalf. It is impossible for parents to hand over the whole responsibility of religious training to the school, since their own contribution is quite essential and cannot be supplied by the school. A notable part of that contribution is, of course, good example. It is often heart-breaking to see the best efforts of zealous teachers made of no effect by home conditions which are in direct opposition to all that the child is being taught to value. Just now the nature of the religious instruction given in our schools is a matter of hot discussion, and it is not suitable to take sides in the contest here. But all will agree that school-training should aim at providing something more than glib answers to Catechism questions. Religious training in our schools should kindle enthusiasm for the Faith and a permanent interest in everything connected with the Church. The growing lad is above all a creature of enthusiasm, and we have the greatest Story of all with which to fire his enthusiasm and inspire his generosity.

(4) THE LEAKAGE AMONG WORKING-BOYS

There are good reasons for concentrating here on working-boys; theirs is a more difficult case; little is done for them, and they constitute by far the greater part of the male population between 14 and 18 years of age. Moreover, these are the future fathers of families, with a great potential influence for good or evil. Mention has already been made above (vi), of the circumstances under which these lads only too often start their after-school life. Enough has been said to make it evident that special measures are required to stem the wholesale drifting away of these boys, and to tide them over that important period which elapses between school-days and responsible manhood.

What kind of measures are likely to succeed among boys of this age and class? This is a question which experience can answer for us. In general it may be said that boys of this age react very strongly to real interest taken in them by adults. But in taking an active interest in working-lads, the adult must introduce a certain subtle difference in his manner towards them. They are no longer school-children, and will resent any attitude which seems to place them in that category. Apart from this, they are ready in their friendship, grateful for the interest shown in them, and eager to take a lead when it is given them. This then is the keynote of work for boys, interest; and without personal interest good results cannot be hoped for. Secondly it must be remembered that these lads are at an age of enthusiasm, ambition, and widening horizons. They demand a fuller and a firmer hold on Life, and they will not be denied it. If the Church offers nothing to satisfy their cravings, then they will seek satisfaction elsewhere.

At this age a great capacity for love is developing apace, generosity and devotion are seeking an outlet. If this capacity for good is left unfilled, then the World, the Flesh and the Devil are waiting on the threshold of the empty heart to rush in and take possession. The boy’s character will develop somehow, and if we do not form it then somebody else will, and probably with disastrous results. The careless Catholic, if he is well-to-do, contented and selfish, will relapse into indifferentism or into a frankly naturalistic paganism; but the working-class Catholic, illcontent with his conditions of life and surrounded by poverty and squalor, will tend to lapse into something worse. Let us make no mistake about this, among the working-classes today the drift of the unstable is more and more into active Communism and Bolshevism, and these agencies it is which will only too readily undertake the formation of our neglected lads. When the deluge comes, we shall need a staunch Catholic body among the workingmen, who will resist on the ground of clearly defined and long-practised Catholic principles. As it is, we are simply raising up out of our own body a set of young men who may be powerful factors in our own undoing.

(5) VARIOUS METHODS

We start off, for the most part, with magnificent material; how are we going to use it? Schemes of work among boys are legion-social clubs, billiard tables, Scouts, boxing, swimming classes, bands, orchestras, etc. All these have great value in so far as they provide opportunities for personal contact with the boys, and interest in their affairs. But it seems certain that all such activities should be definitely subordinated to some main activity which has for its object the spiritual welfare and growth of the individual. No matter how poor he is, or how ill-instructed, a boy has capacities and longings that no billiard-clubs, rifleranges or gymnasiums can fill. The boy’s spiritual life and growth must be attended to specially and, as it were, separately. His soul is living the life of supernatural grace, grace must more and more abound within him. His supernatural life must not be allowed to stand still, grace must perfect his intellect and quicken his will. It is in the very nature of the soul in grace to grow and expand, to reach out and possess ever more and more of the better gifts which are the heritage of those whom God has called to be His sons. The boy himself is conscious of vague longings for great things, he catches glimpses of the Promised Land afar off, and is eager to set forth on the journey. If these yearnings are left unsatisfied, if this growth is frustrated, if the eager stretching out to better things is thwarted and neglected, then it is a calamity indeed, for the vision will never again be so bright. All this suggests that directly spiritual work for boys must on no account be neglected, and that all other activities should flow from this main spiritual activity.

The advisability of making spiritual growth and well-being the first and central aim of work for boys, is amply borne out by experience. When all the material activities and amenities of a parish, such as boys” and men’s clubs, football teams, etc., are made to centre round a common purpose of spiritual endeavour, then the various organizations work together harmoniously, and the parish is “alive” with the very life-blood of the Church. But where social organizations in the parish exist for a merely material purpose without any real relation to spiritual life as such, then they easily get “out of hand,” breed dissension, and are anything but an ornament to the parish.

From a practical point of view, boys” clubs, Scouts, football teams and the like, all need money to start them, and in many parishes it is impossible to raise money for such purposes; often, even when money has been raised to start a club, funds are not forthcoming to keep it going. Now a spiritual society needs no money either to start or to run, but it will easily bring into being such a spirit of zealous co-operation, that funds will be forthcoming without difficulty for various social amenities organized in subordination to it. It might be objected by some, that a purely spiritual society, offering no material or social advantages, will fail to secure the interest of the boys. Experience has shown however that this is not the case, provided that the spiritual society is organized on suitable lines, and directed with energy and enterprise.

(6) THE SODALITY OF OUR LADY

Growth in the spiritual life, so far as our human efforts are concerned, is effected by the removal of impediments to the reign of grace in the soul. Members of this Sodality have placed before them as their model, Mary, in whom grace always reigned supreme. The Sodality is in fact a religious society of layfolk, whose common effort it is to make progress in the spiritual life by means of devotion to Our Lady. Catholics know well that true devotion to Mary, of its very nature, calls forth a strong personal love of Our Lord Jesus Christ. Love of Mary presupposes love of Our Lord, indeed we love Mary becausewe love Our Lord. Our Lord’s life and actions, His infinite love for us, and the Sacrifice by which He won the life of Heaven for our souls, all furnish abundant motives for a perfect love on our part. But by an intimate knowledge of the Mother we are drawn yet more closely to the Son, for in Mary we see perfect love and perfect imitation of Christ in a simple creature like ourselves. True devotion to Mary then, leads directly to the very highest Christian perfection, and in their devotion to Our Lady, members of the Sodality have in view nothing less than progress towards the perfection of each according to his state of life.

This being so, it will be evident that the Sodality will concern itself with the full Christian life in all its bearings; frequentation of the Sacraments, the intimate study of our holy religion, apostolic zeal for the perfection of others, all these will come a long way first. There will naturally follow concord and charity which will find expression in the organization of -the various social amenities which provide opportunities for Catholics to meet and know each other and to co-operate with one another in the various contacts of which life is made up. Moreover, apostolic zeal will show itself in active participation in the work of the C.E.G., C.S.G., S.V.P., etc.

So much having been said about the Sodality in general, we may now consider .it in its special relation to the Leakage among boys. Bearing in mind the peculiar requirements of boys who have just left school, we have to find out how the Sodality should be managed so as to ensure that its members frequent the Sacraments; grow in the knowledge of the Faith, of themselves, and of the world; and deepen their spiritual life generally. The exact methods to be adopted in each case will, of course, vary according to the particular local conditions; the main purpose of the Sodality is clear, but there is plenty of room for elasticity of method in achieving that purpose. No attempt will be made here to discuss methods of managing a Sodality so as to meet the widely diverse requirements of the different classes of parishes which exist in this country, but instead we shall content ourselves with giving a description of a highly successful Sodality which is in actual operation in a parish typical of hundreds of other parishes in industrial areas. In many cases it will be possible to apply this scheme quite unchanged, in other cases suitable modifications or additions may be introduced with advantage.

(Although the organization which we are about to describe is, as a matter of fact, a Sodality, yet it seems important to point out that this work can be successfully undertaken by any other similar organization. It is altogether foreign to the writer’s intention to suggest that the Sodality contains the only solution to the problem of Leakage among boys; Third Orders, Guilds and Confraternities of all kinds are in active operation in our parishes, and in many cases they are accomplishing magnificent results in their work for boys. In common with the Sodality of Our Lady, these various spiritual organizations aim at the spiritual progress and perfection of their members, each according to its own method and tradition. Our intention here is to suggest that a practical adaptation of some of the methods outlined in this pamphlet, would result in a very desirable co-ordination of the anti-Leakage aspect of work for boys throughout the country).

The writer recently had the privilege of spending a few days in a North-country industrial town. In one of the parishes of this town, a parish of some 5,000 Catholics, the problem of Leakage among working boys existed in an acute form; it was attacked by energetic and systematic work, and these efforts have been rewarded by complete success. In twelve years not a single boy has been lost! The methods which have been productive of so astounding a result must be of such interest to all who realize the urgency of the problem that no apology is needed for setting them down here in detail.

It is obvious that other, and perhaps equally effective methods might be devised; it is not suggested that the scheme to be described is the only possible one. But it is a scheme that has been in actual practice for 12 years, a period long enough to put theory to a searching test. The scheme has succeeded beyond all expectations; indeed, were it not for the personal assurance of the parish priest, one could scarcely believe that so complete a measure of success had been obtained. After several long and intimate conversations, the parish priest was kind enough to place at the writer’s disposal some exhaustive notes which he had written about his work for boys. I shall not hesitate to quote at length from these notes, since their direct and forceful language can scarcely be improved upon.

(7) THE SODALITY IN ACTION

In this parish, the foundationstone of the work for boys is the Boys” Sodality of Our Lady; a Sodality can be erected in any parish, however poor. This Sodality has two parts-boys at school and working boys up to 16 years of age. Boys at school can always be got at, so attention is focussed on the working boys.

The Council, or Governing Body, of the Boys” Sodalit y, with the parish priest as Director, is composed, not of boys, but of members of the Men’s Sodality. The parish is divided up into districts, and to each of twenty young men one of these districts is assigned. In this manner a complete network is spread over the whole parish, and this is a sensitive network, so that a “bulge” in the net is immediately felt. Let us see how the parish priest describes the working of this net

“On the Boys” Sodality monthly Communion Sunday, each of my twenty young men places in my hands, by three o‘clock on the same Sunday afternoon, the names of all working boys who have been absent from Sodality Mass and Communion. I call my Council together, discuss this list, and assign to each those boys who are in his district. That same week a visit is made to each house to find out the reason why the boy has been absent. The reasons given are written down and sent to me, with a note sometimes to the effect that the only hope is a visit from me. This visit is made by me at once. All this implies, of course, solid hard work, work too that is depressing often-times on account of the atmosphere of the homes.”

With this spadework going on continuously and systematically, the details of the scheme are filled in thus:”Every week I give a special talk to boys in the top classes of our two Elementary Schools, throughout the year previous to their leaving school for work. This aims at preparing them for certain temptations, and the type of men they are bound to meet.

“By consulting parents and boy, I find out what the boy wants to work at, and then go round to various employers, promise them a good type of boy, and get them to take an interest in the boy’s career. By this means I am able to get boys straight to work when they leave school, and know exactly what their surroundings are. When it is a big works they enter, I put each boy under the care of a good Catholic working man there, so as to make the boy feel that he has a friend.

“The special talks begun during the year previous to leaving school are continued after the boys go out to work. On Sodality Sunday the working boys are separated from the schoolboys, and have a special talk all to themselves. These talks I give myself, but I sometimes get one or two men of the Sodality to give them. This makes a great impression, because they hear a young man telling them what “going straight” means.

“All this work goes on till the boys are 16 years of age. At that age they are transferred to the Men’s Sodality. In the Men’s Sodality the same “network” is continued, with visits and reports to me. Also at 16 the boys become eligible for the Men’s Club, which they are keen to join. Membership means keeping up Sunday Mass and Sodality Communion, the men of the Club report to me any slackening off in this matter. The parish Football Club, run by the men, is another link. The club exists simply and solely as a means of catching the boys and keeping them straight. “Lastly, every year I have a working boys” Retreat. It is essential for the success of this, that the expense should be kept at the barest minimum, and so the fee is 2/6 per day, for which they get breakfast, dinner and tea. Here again, the recruiting for the Boys” Retreat is in the hands of the men. It is amazing how boys like to feel that men are interested in them; they like to be thought men.”

And now what about the success of the scheme? The words which follow leave little doubt on that score

“The scheme starts with success. No boy can escape the net. If he is slackening, he comes up against the net, and there is a “bulge.” That bulge is investigated at once-a very important factor.

“In a London parish, when I was in charge of the boys, only 12 were attending Mass on Sunday and going to Holy Communion. I put my scheme into operation, spread my net, and at the end of one year had caught 120 boys. At the end of that year I was transferred to another sphere of action, and so had not the opportunity of seeing my scheme reach maturity. One thing I do know is that within two months of my departure, my 120 boys were lost again, because nobody took up the work.

“In this parish, I started the scheme under similar circumstances, and have had the good fortune to see the work come to fruition during several years. On an average there are about 30–40 working boys coming direct from school each year. Throughout a period of twelve years working of the scheme, there is not a single case of any of my boys giving up Mass, or giving up the practice of his religion, except when and only when they have left me and gone elsewhere.”

What a truly magnificent result! If the same work were going forward in every parish throughout the length and breadth of the land, the whole face of things would be changed in a generation. This is in fact the only defect of the scheme-that it is not yet a national organization

“Let me make this clear by an example. One of my boys, 15 years of age, was showing the results of the scheme- keen on Mass and Sodality Communion. Everything seemed set fair for his future. Suddenly his parents removed to another place. I met him 6 months later, and had only to look at his eyes. He was all wrong, and 1knew it. Why? Because nobody was bothering about him. This is the kind of thing that breaks one’s heart. Why wasn’t the net ready to catch him in the place he went to?

“I urge therefore that the solution of the Leakage question is national, not parochial. Had the same net been spread throughout the land, all I had to do in this boy’s case was to write a post-card informing the parish priest of his arrival; but unless the work is being done everywhere, the postcard is useless and the boy is lost. The heart-breaking thing to me is that the only boys of this parish who are lost to the Faith, are the boys who leave it.

“What we have to realize is that isolated effort will not stop this terrible Leakage among boys-that mere talking will not stop it. No! We must take off our coats and work like blacks, each in his own parish, and so make the Leakage Question national and even international, so that wherever a boy goes he is caught.”

(8) THE LAYMAN’S PART

We have been studying at close quarters a scheme which has been in operation for 12 years, and which has been and still is an unqualified success.

To what particular elements is this success due? First and foremost, success has been won by hard work and system. An important factor in this system is the prompt and unfailing following up of any slackness. Our enemy “goeth about like a roaring lion seeking whom he may devour,” and is prompt in following up his advantages; we must forestall him with even greater promptness. The work has been backed up by the energetic and loyal cooperation of laymen, without whose help the scheme must have failed.That the Council of the Boys” Sodality is made up of members of the Men’s Sodality, is a feature of the highest importance. The boys very greatly appreciate the interest which the men take in them, and in this way something is done towards bridging the gap which exists between the small community of working boys and the men. Clearly the men themselves benefit enormously by their participation in this apostolic work, and the whole parish is welded and knit together into one great living organism.

Surely this is the truly Christian way of setting to work, mutual help and interest, loyal service for Christ’s sake, the strong helping and protecting the weak until they too become strong, all centring round Sodality devotion to Our Lady. “We that are stronger ought to bear the infirmities of the weak and not to please ourselves” (Rom. xv. 1).

But it is clear that in so far as it exists only in isolated parishes, this scheme is, at the best, only a partial solution of the Leakage. To be really effective the organization must be, not parochial merely, but national and even international. The net must be spread everywhere, so that none can escape its meshes. We need a national organization of Catholic laymen who will offer themselves to the parish clergy to work for the boys of the parish, in systematic co-operation with similar work in all other parishes. It is hoped that the question of the constitution of such an organization will soon come up for discussion among those who are able to take active steps in such a matter. It is clear that work of this nature is in harmony with the general aims of several of the existing Catholic Societies, but none of these Societies has up to the present engaged on this work on a really national scale. However the work is tackled, and tackled it must be, it seems certain that centralized control will be required, or at least the very closest liaison must be maintained between the various fields of action. This pamphlet will not wholly fail to produce its desired effect if it stimulates an interest in this aspect of the question, and calls forth suggestions as to the nature of the far-flung organization which must sooner or later come into being.

(9) CATHOLIC ACTION

It is not too much to say that without a very great increase in lay co-operation, this problem is quite insoluble. For many years past, appeal after appeal has been made for the layman’s help. When that help has been forthcoming, the layman’s work has been magnificent, and God has blessed it with wonderful success. To take but two instances, the Catholic Evidence Guild and the Catholic Social Guild have accomplished wonders, especially when it is remembered that the proportion of the Catholic population which has supported these organizations is really quite disgracefully small. Let us look the facts in the face-the very great majority of those on whom the Church has a right to call in her need are doing nothing in the way of personal service. Why is it so hard to rouse the British layman? Is it because he is only a slack, lukewarm, 50% Catholic? Emphatically no; experience proves the contrary to be the case. On all sides we find indications of zeal, energy, loyalty, and ready willingness on the part of the layman. The trouble is that all this goodwill and readiness has not yet learnt to find an outlet for itself. Laziness and indifference are not the Catholic layman’s besetting faults, but excessive diffidence. We have not yet become accustomed to the Lay Apostolate as a normal and a necessary thing. We must get habituated to the idea, not that it is exceptional for a layman to take part in apostolic work, but that it is a reproach to him if he does not do so. The Catholic must come to regard himself as by that very fact an apostle; of the Apostles we read that they were “laborantes in remigando,” we must realize that in Peter’s Barque all are rowers; there is no room for mere passengers!

The layman has no reason to be diffident in this matter, for the very highest Authority urges him to come forward and take his share in the Church’s work. In his first great Encyclical on The Peace of Christ in the Kingdom of Christ, His Holiness Pope Pius XI made a special commendation of Catholic Action, under which heading he included apostolic work of the laity for young people, and the promotion of Sodalities of Our Lady. Since then, His Holiness has insisted again and again on the necessity for well-regulated Catholic Action on the part of the laity. In an address to university students in 1929,the Pope defined Catholic Action as “the participation of the laity in the Apostolic Hierarchy of the Church.” His Holiness drew attention to the fact that Catholic Action is as old as the Church Herself, and pointed out that the Apostle St. Paul in the commendations and salutations at the end of his Epistles, was addressing, not bishops and priests, but layfolk “who have laboured with me in the Gospel.” Two further extracts from the Holy Father’s Encyclicals will drive the point home

“With no less care, Venerable Brethren, would we have the manifold cohorts of the Catholic Action polished or cultivated fitly by the Spiritual Exercises. With all our power, we desire to promote this Action; and we cease not, and never will cease to commend it; because the co-operation of the laity with the Apostolic Hierarchy is exceedingly useful, not to say necessary.”

(Encyclical: The More Extended Use of the Spiritual Exercises.)

“This state of things may perhaps be attributed to a certain slowness an d timidity in good people, who are reluctant to engage in contest, or oppose but a weak resistance; thus the enemies of the Church become bolder in their attacks.”

(Encyclical instituting the Feast of Christ the King.)

We have been slow and backward in this matter, we have not come up to the hopes which our fathers had of us. In his great Stockport address of 1899, Cardinal Vaughan spoke as follows:—“For my part, I consider that as it was the bounden duty of the Church sixty years ago to organize lay forces into an army of teachers for children of tender age, so it has now become her duty, in the present state of English society, to recruit another army of unpaid workers, not only to take charge of the children when they leave school, but to live and work among the poor as lay missioners- pledged to better their social and religious condition. It has been whispered that the laity are not sufficiently employed in the work of the Church. Would to God that more among them stepped forward to throw themselves into the great Christian work of regenerating the masses in overcrowded centres of population! This work of fraternal charity is to their hand. The Church invites, nay, presses them into her service. Let them gird themselves, and put their backs into the work. The chivalry of personal service to Christ in His poor is open to them. A heavenly hand holds out the guerdon of their reward.-The English people are more readily convinced by deeds than by words. When they shall see educated men and women of the upper classes, perhaps delicately nurtured, devote a substantial part of their life and of their fortune to bettering the lives of the poor, when they shall see them working earnestly and humbly in subordination to their clergy, then will the English people turn to them instinctively with respect, and bow down in admiration before the religion which has presented Christ to them in so admirable a social form-The need of this (work for children) is becoming recognized, and I believe that the first quarter of the coming century will see among us the organization, upon a wide scale, of this necessary work of co-operation for the benefit of young people between the ages of 13 (the then school-leaving age) and 20. It will be, indeed, a grand Catholic Brotherhood when one-third of the population is cherished and taught by elder brothers and sisters, regardless of social rank, of rich or poor.”

(10) THE PUBLIC-SCHOOL MAN-AN APPEAL

It is from public-school men that we might reasonably expect the most ready response to the Church’s appeal; especially might they be expected to take a leading part in tackling the problem of the Leakage among boys. Their education has fitted them for leadership, their knowledge of their religion should be considerable, and their whole training should have impressed them with a high sense of the value of the Faith, and inspired them with apostolic zeal

-in spreading and defending it. But it is a regrettable fact that after he leaves school the public-school man for the most part seems to disappear into thin air-nothing is ever heard of him again! The great puzzle is to find out where he has got to. Certain it is that public-school men do -not associate themselves in large numbers with active Catholic lay enterprises.

There are, however, more hopeful signs for the future. Several of our largest schools have enthusiastically taken up work and study in preparation for outdoor speaking as members of the Catholic Evidence Guild, and in not a few cases boys have spoken with good effect at C.E.G. pitches in London and elsewhere. Moreover, some schools have for some time past had organized Study-Circles working in co-operation with the Catholic Social Guild, so as to fit the boys to take an active part in Catholic social work when they leave school. These and similar activities cannot fail to have the happiest effects, but it must be confessed that so far they are only a beginning.

This work for boys is absolutely crying out for public-school men. It will involve hard work, a certain sacrifice of spare time, occasional disappointments and failures-but an immense reward. In these days, the public-school man who keeps aloof is guilty of something very like treason, at least he merits St. Ignatius’s reproach of “eques ignavus”-slothful knight. The Catholic public-school man has received so much, that he is in duty bound to pass on some of his advantages to his less fortunate fellows. He need have no fear that his efforts will not be appreciated, or that such work is unsuitable for him. Fortunately there are plenty of instances of public-school men who have done, and are doing, magnificent work for the Church. They organize Boys” and Men’s Retreats and encourage the Retreatants by their own attendance, seek out submerged Catholics in rural areas and catechize their children, arrange “bus services to convey scattered rural Catholics to Mass, start Mass-centres and run them until a parish can be erected, give up spare time to Boys” Clubs, teach boxing and swimming to working boys, and are at the right hand of the parish priest in all his necessities. But one of the reasons why one can so easily call such instances to mind, is that it is still something of a phenomenon to find a public-school man engaged in active work for the Church, it is nearly always a case of isolated and individual effort. Surely in all our large cities there are enough young Catholic publicschool men to form the backbone of the Men’s Sodality of Our Lady, and to take their part in the running of the Boys” Sodality!

A Catholic public-school education is not only an advantage, it is a responsibility as well, a precious talent to be traded with for the benefit of the Church, not to be wrapped up in a napkin and buried for safety. By way of inculcating this sense of responsibility, would it not be possible for some of our larger schools officially to adopt some town or district, for the purpose of assisting the local clergy to develop welfare work for working lads? Similar action has already been taken by many great non-Catholic schools, often merely with the motive of diffusing a general spirit of philanthropy and social service. We, with motives infinitely higher, might well consider to what extent such an early participation in works of apostolic charity might be mixed with our existing school activities.

(11) CONCLUSION

The Church then appeals to all Her children for help, but more especially to those on whom She has already lavished her choicest gifts, and to whose gratitude She has a special title. The problem has long been familiar, and calls ever more insistently for a solution. Whatever the solution be, it must be provided by lay co-operation. The method of solution which has been outlined in this pamphlet has had such striking results in practice, that a very clear indication seems to be given of the lines to be worked on in the future. The facts given show a promise fulfilled in one parish, and a promise eminently well worth working for in every parish in the land. Here is the layman’s work par excellence; who will take it up?

When I asked my parish priest if he really meant that noneof his boys had been lost, be said: “Humanly speaking, I know that all of the 200–300working boys in this parish are in the grace of God.” What this really means only the tongues of Angels could describe, the shining splendour of that company of Christian Knights in a North-country industrial town is beyond all worldly ken; but one is wistful for the splendour and the glory of this living faith to spread through all the land, so that in every parish in the country it may be said: They are all in the grace of God; “and where sin abounded, grace did more abound” (Rom. v. 20).

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Abiding Sorrow For Sin

BY FATHER FABER

INDEX

It is a very troublesome thought that so many persons have lofty and sincere aspirations after high things, and so few reach them; that so many are called to perfection, and so few answer the call; that so many begin ardently and prudently and yet die leaving their tower unbuilt; that so many are conversant with mental prayer, yet never come to perfection. It is a troublesome thought, because it sets us calculating the doctrine of chances about ourselves, and in less selfish moods calculating the loss of glory to God and of power to the Church. For every perfect ascetic is a veritable fountain of power in the Church, however hidden, unknown, or mean-looking he may be. There is certainly an analogy between the waste of grace in the spiritual world and the waste of seeds and flowers and fruits in the natural world. Yet there is poor consolation in a barren analogy. It may serve for a book of evidences, but we shall get little light out of it, and less heat. It does not content us. We must pursue our troublesome thought further, until we get some wisdom or warning out of it.

Now the universality of this phenomenon, when reflected on, leads us to suppose that it has some common cause which is one and the same in everybody. In the spiritual life, a variety of causes will produce a similar effect. But here is a case which holds equally among men of the south and men of the north, among born Catholics and converts, in all countries and in all times,-frustrated vocations to perfection. The more we think of it, the more irresistible seems the conclusion that there is one common cause; and if so, how much it imports to discover it

For a long time I thought it was the want of perseverance in prayer; but then there were so many instances in which the theory broke down. I must have gone against the whole tradition of mystical theology if I maintained that mental prayer was at all necessarily connected with perfection. Nothing grows upon us so much as the wide distinction between the habit of prayer and the gift of prayer. We may find men who have not missed a meditation for years and yet who seem to have no growth about them at all; nor even any tenderness, which ought to be the infallible product of persevering prayer if the prayer is right in other respects. They are perhaps critical to excess in judging others, or they are wanton and ungoverned in their loquacity; and month follows month, and year year, and these unbroken prayers do not seem to tell upon either of these faults. And can any faults be named more fatal to piety than criticism and loquacity? It is as if these men prayed in some way outside their souls, as if their prayer were an adjunct of their spiritual life and not its heart’s blood. These inoperative meditations and unreforming prayers are very melancholy things. But, having tried to establish my theory, I found it was out of the question to attribute these failures to a mere want of perseverance in prayer.

Then I cast about for another guilty cause; and I took it into my head that these failures might be owing to a want of bodily mortification. Why did I not rather suspect the absence of interior mortification ? For this reason. Because bodily mortification seemed so rare that I was afraid interior mortification was put forward as a means of evading bodily mortification. There is something honest, satisfactory, and intelligible about bodily mortification; and I preferred dealing with it. Moreover, I could not but see that bodily mortification almost always either brings interior mortification along with it or makes a man easily convertible to it. I had more fear lest the outward should be wanting than the inward. The style of the times obviously warranted this fear.

In truth, I found that incalculable mischiefs might be put down to this want of corporal austerity, but that it could not be brought in guilty of these failures in perfection. First there was the awkward fact that those who made most of the austerities practised them least. For it is obvious to put innocently impertinent questions to men who preach strong doctrines.

I was astonished how little they did who talked so much. This was discouraging at the outset of the enquiry. However, further investigation seemed to show that although there could be no growth without austerity, the growth did not depend upon the austerity. Men mortified themselves and yet seemed to stand still. Much evil was hindered, and much killed. Souls were kept good who might have fallen away. But they did not seem to shoot ahead.

* Slightly abridged from the original in Father Faber’s Growth in Holiness.

Austerity purified and prepared, and went no further. In a word, it appeared that in the soul bodily austerity was medicinal rather than nutritious, and that it sometimes made men irritable, morose, and hard-natured as medicine will do. All honour to it!-but it does not secure by itself our growth in holiness.

What was to be the third object of my suspicions ? They were awakened by perpetual hints and innuendoes dropped by St. Francis de Sales which observation seemed more and more to corroborate. I therefore charged with these failures in perfection that form of indiscretion which consists in taking too many things on ourselves, and so acting in an eager feverish, and precipitate manner, which St. Francis calls empressement. The circumstances of modern life appeared to beguile men into it more than ever. Its miserable consequences were patent on all sides. It vitiates all it touches, and weakens what is most divine in all our spiritual exercises. It confuses the operations of grace, and turns the fruit of sacraments on one side. Our duties are all disorderly, untidy, and ill-tempered, because they rush pell-mell from morning till night, treading on each other’s heels, and turning round to reproach each other.**

Now let some men be found who have no duties but those which their state of life renders indispensable, whose day is roomy and large, quiet and old-fashioned, everything in its place and all things clean. They must have but few spiritual exercises, and they must make much of those few, do them slowly and punctiliously, value recollection, and have no signs of tepidity. Many such were to be found, but on close inspection growth in holiness was anything but the invariable rule with them. Their slow way of doing things, their roominess (so to call it) was an immense blessing to them, and fraught with many graces. Nevertheless they were for the most part a phenomenon. Unless all the spiritual books in the world have conspired to be wrong, there is no such thing as a dead level in piety, on which people can pace up and down without either advancing or going back, like a comfortable terrace without a single inequality in it. All theory is positive that there is no such thing. Yet by some means these good men have contrived to make it or to find it. Explain it who will, there they are pacing up and down, thoroughly good, truly edifying, yet on a level, and a low level too. I am not going out of my way to account for it. It overthrew my theory; and with all the good will in the world (and out of love for St. Francis de Sales) to give precipitation a bad name, I was obliged to return a verdict of Not guilty, at least on the charge of causing all these unhappy failures in perfection. But the oftener a man baffled, the more obstinate he grows. Here were three failures, and a determination to try again.

This time I was longer at fault than I had been before. I did not so much cast about for a theory as watched and waited; and by slow degrees so many facts obtruded themselves upon me that a sort of induction from them was unavoidable. At first it took this technical shape,-that all men are anxious to get clear of the Purgative Way of the ascetic life and enter into the brightness of the Illuminative or the sweetness of the Unitive; and that all failures in perfection, or so nearly all as to satisfy the requirements of a general rule, are owing to this one thing. Nothing ever presented itself to make me doubt the substantial truth of this conclusion.***

But the Purgative Way is a wide thing, a very comprehensive term. Would experience allow us to narrow it, without making it too narrow to bear the superstructure that was to be built upon it? The thing was to wait for more facts, so as to have a larger and safer induction. The result was a persuasion, which I venture to record under correction, that the common cause of all failures in perfection is the want of abiding sorrow for sin.

Just as all worship breaks down if it is not based on the feelings due from a creature to his Creator, just as all conversions come to nothing which are not conversions from sin, just as all penances come to nought which do not rest on Christ, just as all good works crumble away which do not rest upon Our Saviour,-so in like manner all holiness has lost its principle of growth if it is separated from abiding sorrow for sin. For the principle of growth is not love only, but forgiven love.

** (Editor’s Note) Compare the advice once given by Father Faber to a novice: “Walk slowly, and speak without emphasis; if you can manage these two exterior things, I will answer for your interior peace.”

*** Father Faber is referring to the traditional “Three Ways” of spiritual progress. Beginners are in the Purgative Way and have principally to cleanse their souls from faults. The more proficient are in the Illuminative Way: following Him who is the Light, they are more concerned to do good than to merely avoid evil. The most advanced are in the Unitive Way: their union with God is intimate and absorbing and often consciously mystical.” These three Ways are in practice subject to many diversities and interminglings. (Editor’s Note.)

This persuasion was strengthened in me by the gradual observation that the absence of abiding sorrow for sin adequately explained all the separate phenomena that had induced me to accuse and prosecute, first the want of perseverance in prayer, then the lack of bodily austerities, and last of all, the precipitation of having too much to do. For this abiding sorrow would produce the same continual feelings of our own unworthiness and of our dependence upon God which would be the fruits of persevering prayer. It would engage us in perpetual warfare with and disesteem of self, and would keep us in the spirit of penance, and that without intermission, which bodily mortification would do excellently but intermittingly. It would give us all the quietness and gentleness with self, the sweetness and forbearance with others, the patience and slowness with God, which we should gain from the absence of precipitation. The salient features, therefore, which had drawn suspicion upon these things, were all reunited in this abiding sorrow for sin.

Meditation on the mysteries of Our Blessed Lord, and on Our Lady’s life, threw still further light on this supposition. First of all there was this remarkable fact. Jesus was sinless, by His own intrinsic sanctity, the unutterable holiness of His Divine Person. Mary was sinless, by the gift of Jesus and the pre-eminent prevention of His redeeming grace. Yet the characteristic of the lives of both was that they practised penance in an heroic degree, as if penance might be holy without innocence, but not innocence without penance.

The theological ways of accounting for the penance of Jesus and Mary led to more light. It appeared that their life of penance consisted in some measure in an abiding sorrow from first to last. The first moment of conception was the full use and complete energy of reason. But reason dawned upon a wonderful, deep, and fixed sorrow. From that instant till the moment of death the sorrow abided with them. It put itself in harmony with every kind of feeling. It adapted itself to all circumstances. It never darkened into gloom. It never melted into light. It lived on the present, and the clear view of the future was part of its present, and it never let go its hold of the past. It was keen and distinct in the soul of Mary, while she magnified God in the exultation of her Divine Maternity. In the ever-blessed soul of Jesus it dwelt amid the fires of the Beatific Vision, and was not consumed. It was a beautiful mystery of perennial sorrow.

The characteristics of this sorrow were that it was life-long quiet, supernatural, and a fountain of love. These features of if are very much to be weighed and observed. For when we come to look at ourselves, whether it be the rare few who have preserved their baptismal innocence and whose souls are only charged with venial sins, or the great apostles, unrivalled amidst the Saints, confirmed in grace, and whose grace was superabundant, or the mass of men, whose best estate is that of repentant and returning sinners,-we shall see that no sorrow is possible to us which shall unite these four characteristics except the abiding sorrow for sin.

It is as much life-long with us as anything can be. It Is a prominent part of our first turning to God, and there Is no height of holiness in which it will leave us. It is the interior representation of our Guardian Angel in our souls, and the disposition and demeanour he would fain should be constant and persevering in us.

It is quiet. Indeed, it rather tranquillizes a troubled soul than perturbs a contented one. It hushes the noises of the world, and rebukes the loquacity of the human spirit. It softens asperities, subdues exaggerations, and constrains everything with a sweet and gracious spell which nothing else can equal.

It is supernatural. It is all from God, and all for God. It is forgiven sin for which we mourn, and not sin which perils self. And this very fact makes it also a fountain of love. We love because much has been forgiven, and we always remember how much it was. We love because the forgiveness has abated fear. We love because we wonder at the compassion that could so visit such unworthiness. We love because the softness of sorrow is akin to the filial confidence of love.

Thus abiding sorrow for sin is the only possible parallel in our souls to the mysterious life-long sorrow of Jesus and Mary; and the fact that sorrow clung to them characteristically in spite of their sinlessness seems to show how much of the secret life of Christian holiness is hidden in its gentle supernatural melancholy.

Moreover, it was impossible not to perceive that under a variety of names, -sorrow, repentance, fear, and the like,-Scripture speaks of an abiding penance, of fearing always, of fearing forgiven sin, of passing the time of our sojourning in fear, of the sorrow which is unto life. It never contemplates the possibility of the dispositions of repentance ceasing; for the single passage of St. John about love casting out fear, is hardly to be understood of this life. So that there seems to be a precept of always sorrowing for sin analogous to the precept of always praying, and subject to the same kind of difficulties in its interpretation.

Now what does this abiding sorrow of Scripture mean?

Certainly not austerities; for they are occasional and intermitting. Certainly not sadness, which is sorrow with self in it and where God should be. Certainly not human melancholy, which is either a consequence of sin or a fruit of idleness or a disease of a deranged bodily system. Thus Scripture,-forming the last link in that chain of proof which led me to charge failures in perfection on the want of abiding sorrow for sin as their single common cause, a cause uniting in all men with the other causes which affect this or that individual,- brings me also into the consideration of my subject. We must first ascertain the nature of this sorrow.

It consists in an abiding sense that we are sinners, without at all bringing up to remembrance definite and particular sins. On the contrary, it would not only avoid such a picturing of sins as a matter of prudence, but it would be quite foreign to its genius to think of it. It is too much occupied with God to do more than to fix its eyes on self with a touching, patient, reproachful look.

It consists also in an undoubting and yet an unceasing prayer for pardon. If it were argumentative it might say that a sin was either forgiven or was not forgiven,-that forgiveness was an instantaneous act, whether it were gratuitous or conditional,-and that to ask forgiveness for what is forgiven is to approach God with unmeaning words, But David gives it a voice, Amplius lava me, “Wash me more and more, O Lord “; and the whole Church throughout the world has adopted his Miserere, and is continually upon her knees, crying Amplius lava me. O how the soul yearns for that Amplius Theologians tell us that the fires of Purgatory do not amid their other severely benignant offices burn the stains of sin out of our souls; because in truth there are no stains there,-the Precious Blood obliterated them in the act of forgiving them. Still there are the fires. So there are the fires of that Amplius in the soul. It is a thing to be felt rather than accounted for, to be cherished rather than defined.

It consists also in a dread of forgiven sin, not so much because of purgatory (though it is far from affecting to be above these mixed and lower motives-poor soul, how should it venture to think itself above anything!),but because of the way in which old habits revive, and the species of old sins haunt the imagination, making it often, to use the forcible words of Scripture, like a cage of unclean birds. It dare not go to sleep with the seemingly dead enemy by its side. Through the cold night and on the strewn battlefield it wakes and watches, and in a low voice sings the triumphs of grace, that it may repel the approaches of slumber.

It consists also in a growing hatred of sin,-an increase of the spirit of Gethsemane in our souls, a communication from that solitary mystery beneath the olive trees, when even apostles slept. It is the Sacred Heart touching our hearts, and leaving faint stigmata of His own lifelong sorrow upon them.

It consists in a growing sensitiveness of conscience as to what is sin. Ineffably bright as is the sanctity of God and His refulgent glory, to gaze upon it strengthens our soul’s eye unworthy, and dishonourable in actions. We discern the complication and mixture of motives more distinctly. And entangled in a confusion of infirmities, a very inevitability of imperfections, where self-love can find no single resting-place for the sole of its foot, we grow in a divine sadness which humility and faith will not allow to be disquietude. With all this, and in the way of consequence, our personal love of Our Most Blessed Lord increases, and love of Him as our actual Saviour from sin. It is our joy to “call His Name Jesus, because He saveth His people from their sins.”

There are two classes of persons trying to serve God,-those who do not feel this abiding sorrow for sin and those who do. Or it would be more accurate to say that the one class has not got it and does not feel the want of it, and the other either has it or wants to have it. Various causes hinder men from feeling this want; the most common is tepidity. Lukewarmness is incompatible with this holy sorrow and cannot coexist with it. But the characteristic of such men is the absence of spiritual growth, and their perseverance in the ways of devotion doubtful.

On the contrary, those who have not this sorrow but feel the want of it have this consolation, that the very feeling of the want is a sign of a healthy state or at least of returning health; though it may be even with them that lukewarmness has brought their necessity safely home to them.

Many men are unhappily without it from their having suddenly or prematurely taken too high a place in the spiritual life, left the Purgative Way too rapidly, vitiated their palates by mystical books, or undertaken penances too hard for them and works beyond their existing grace. If we insist upon our souls growing upward before they have taken root downwards they are sure to be stunted. Little birds that try to fly before they are fledged fall from the eaves, and are hurt or killed according to the height from which they fall. The love of such men for Our Blessed Lord is cold and poor, and anything like ardour looks to them mere highflown romance or a wordy enthusiasm.

That the sorrow, however, is not always sensible, is no proof that it is not habitual. Yet sensible sorrow, like sensible sweetness, is a great gift, and to be moderately desired and asked of God.

The Apostle tells us there are two kinds of sorrow: one of them is sorrow unto death, the other a sorrow unto life. The sorrow unto death is more like self-vexation than genuine sorrow. It is often the consequence of an exaggerated human respect. It is a sorrow for sin which causes fresh sins, by filling us full of irritability both towards others and ourselves. It is without any trust in God, without any realization of grace, and leads to no amendment of life. This is the sorrow unto death in its earlier stages, during which it may occasionally mingle unperceived with the dispositions of excellent and interior persons. Its later stages are the preparations of despair; and its consequence, worked logically out, is final impenitence and an unfavourable doom.

The sorrow which is unto life is of two kinds. The first is that which works conversion. It is impetuous, outwardly demonstrative, full of self-revenge. This sorrow is naturally transient; for it has an end to accomplish and then it goes.

The other is the sorrow which we should wish to retain with us always. As I have said, it is lifelong, quiet, supernatural and a fountain of love. Hence it is affectionate and not reproachful. It knows how to deal gently with self, without dealing indulgently. It is humble, and never downcast at falls. Strange to say, its fear of hell is infrequent, faint, and intermitting; yet it is never,-not for a moment nor even in ecstasy,-without a solemn, reverential fear of God’s inscrutable judgments. The celestial raptures of Our Lord’s Sacred Humanity interrupted not for one moment the reverential fear with which His Body and Soul were penetrated. Moreover, this abiding sorrow is devotional. It inclines to prayer, brings pleasure in prayer, and though a sorrow, is itself a sweetness. It is very confident, and its confidence rests solely upon God. It lives by the fountains of the Saviour’s Blood, weeps silent tears like one who is continually hearing good news, and is hopeful.

This affectionate sorrow delivers us from many spiritual dangers. It throws a tenderness into our whole character, and makes us deep and pliant. It brings with it the unction of that special gift of the Holy Ghost which is named “piety.” It hinders our getting into a formal way both of doing our ordinary actions and of going through our accustomed devotions. The sap subsides in the trees as the cold weather comes, and the chilly nights quicken its descent. So is the gradual declension of fervour in our souls. But this sorrow saves us from it; it is the sap of our spiritual lives, whose character it is to be perennial and its foliage evergreen. The leaves may be cold-crumpled and frost-bitten; but the tree is still green. It also saves us from making light of venial sins, and is always stopping (even when we know it not) little untruths, teasing jealousies, wounded conceits, and sins of the tongue.

For it is the sorrow which was the Lord’s mantle. We are holding the sacred fringe, and virtue goes out of Him into us, and the issue of the bleeding soul is stayed.

The fruits which it produces in us are of equal importance with the dangers from which it preserves us. It makes us charitable towards the falls of others, and this reacts upon ourselves in the way of an increase of humility. It involves a continual renewal of our good resolutions, additional reality and fortitude in our wish to do more for God, and an increasing power of perseverance, with more stability and less effort. It blessedly diminishes our taste for the world and its pleasures. It flings the charm of heaven around us, and disenchants all other spells. It leads to a more fruitful, because a more reverent, humble, and hungry use of the Sacraments; and no grace that comes to us is wasted while this sorrow possesses our souls. It grinds all grist in its mill. There is nothing which makes our endurance of crosses more patient or more graceful,-nothing which gives us so calm and fertile a pertinacity in works of mercy to others. We are always flooded with inward tenderness, so that there is not an ache or a pain in one of Christ’s members which does not awake our sympathy and find its account in our sensibility. Devotion to Our Lord’s Passion is meant for the daily bread of Christian thought, and it keeps fresh and new in this sorrow as in a genial atmosphere. Our perceptions of the invisible world become finer and keener; we are more liable to be excited by spiritual interests, and more alive to the soul’s wants and dangers; and there is about us a liveliness of thanksgiving which only shows the copiousness of the hidden joy in this apparent sorrow. It is as though the happy resurrection of the flesh were partially anticipated. The coils and drags fall off our soul, and we have a new facility and promptitude for everything which has to do with God.

But how are we to get, or if gotten how keep, this dear and precious sorrow? Need I say that we must make it a subject of special prayer? We must not give way to disgusts with common devotions, tame books, ordinary practices, and commonplace direction. We must prepare carefully and leisurely for sacraments, and make much of them. We must have a great devotion for the conversion of sinners, and be very simple in the accusation of ourselves in the confessional. We must be jealous of anything which hinders our constant growth in personal love of Jesus. Whatever else stops for awhile, often inculpably, this love can never stop. There is no end to it. It partakes of God’s infinity. Nothing is above it in kind, nothing coequal with it in degree.

We must never consciously seek consolation as a primary object either in sermons, direction, devotion, voluntary bodily inflictions, or spiritual conferences. We must not seek to be consoled in a sorrow which is our treasure, and which we are fain should abide with us not only until the day of this world is far spent, but until the new eternal day has veritably dawned. And if we be in the Illuminative, or even in the Unitive Way, never let us part company altogether with, meditation on the Four Last Things.

But particularly we must be upon our guard against two foolish mistakes which betray an ignorance of the first principles of the interior life, and which nevertheless are not uncommon. The first mistake is the putting lightly away of movements of remorse and inward upbraidings, as if they were, mere scruples. Directors, in a hurry to get rid of their penitents, or anxious to keep them calm at all costs, often cast them into this delusion. But it is a serious misfortune as well as a grave mistake. It may be some old root of bitterness which is causing the twinge, or some secret reserve with God which has found voice and is upbraiding us. What shall we lose if we leave these things still in us? Or it may be that Our Lord is doing to us something like what we read of various saints,-that He is squeezing the last drops of bad blood out of our hearts. And are we to meddle, and unclasp the kind firmness of His fingers from the aching place, when if we knew our own good fortune we should see that that ache is worth kingdoms to us? A cloud is always a cloud; but it is wisdom to know when the cloud that is overshadowing us is the Holy Ghost.

The other mistake is thinking it un-Catholic to take serious and religious views of things. Converts are very liable to this from the ordinary laws of reaction and recoil. So also are priests, seminarists, and religious, as thinking seriousness professional. Levity will not make us happy, and I never read the life of a saint who thought it fine to speak lightly, or who was given to do so. They said little, and what they said was invariably grave. I believe it was their gravity that made them cheerful. There is something undergraduate about this levity. It is partly the conceit and partly the vulgarity of the spiritual life.*

I am confident no vocation to perfection will be frustrated by a soul in which there is this abiding sorrow for sin. It is the quintessence of devotion to the Sacred Heart, and it is there that we must seek it.

APPENDIX: INDULGENCED ASPIRATIONS**

We might recite all or any of the following indulgenced aspirations from motives of divine charity and contrition, with the particular intention of begging from God grace for sinners and of helping to make reparation, in union with the redemptive mysteries of Our Lord, both for our own sins and for the sins of all our brethren of the human race. In this way we should be acting in the spirit of Father Faber’s advice to us in this pamphlet.

Any aspiration may be repeated over and over again (e.g. on a decade or even on a full round of our Rosary beads). In this connection let us recall that St. Francis de Sales regarded a single aspiration recited a hundred times as more fruitful than a hundred different ones, each recited once. But let us beg God for the grace of saying the aspirations attentively and from our hearts. Mere quantity of prayer without good quality could not greatly please Him.

* Father Faber is finding fault only with heartlessly unseasonable flippancy and the like. He has no quarrel with the virtue of happy Christian lightheartedness and even playfulness. Similarly sorrowfulness of heart for him is consistent with-and indeed presupposes- the grateful joyousness of a soul that knows it has been created and redeemed by an infinitely loving God. (Editor’s Note.)

** Added by the editor.

As for the Indulgences, we cannot do better than to place them in the hands of Our Lady, with the request that she should apply them as she sees fit, either to our own souls or to the suffering souls in Purgatory. Slow, thoughtful reading of the pamphlet, interspersed with these aspirations, would be an excellent way to make a Holy Hour in honour of the Sacred Heart of Jesus.

The aspirations are

1. O God, be merciful to me, a sinner.

2. O Lord, deal not with us according to the sins that we have committed, nor according to our iniquities.

3. O Lord, remember not our old iniquities and be merciful to our sins for the sake of Thy name.

4. Holy Trinity, one God, have mercy on us.

5. From all sin deliver me, O Lord.

6. Lord, save us, we perish.

7. My Jesus, mercy!

8. Dear Jesus, be to me not a Judge but a Saviour.

9. Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me.

10. O Jesus, be to me a Jesus and save me.

11. Christ Jesus, my Helper and my Redeemer.

12. Lamb of God, who takest away the sins of the world, grant us peace.

13. O Jesus in the Most Blessed Sacrament, have mercy on us.

14. Hail, O Cross, our only hope!

15. Through the Sign of the Cross deliver us, O God, from our enemies.

16. Lord, I thank Thee for having died on the Cross for my sins.

17. O good Jesus, hide me within thy wounds.

18. We beseech Thee, therefore, help Thy servants, whom Thou hast redeemed by Thy Precious Blood.

19. Divine Heart of Jesus, convert sinners, save the dying, free the holy souls in Purgatory.

20. Dear Heart of Jesus, have mercy on us and on our erring brethren.

21. Sacred Heart of Jesus, convert poor blasphemers.

22. Most Sacred Heart of Jesus, have mercy on us.

23. God the Holy Ghost, have mercy on us.

24. May the grace of the Holy Ghost enlighten our thoughts and our hearts.

25. O Holy Virgin, deign to let me praise thee; give me strength against thine enemies.

26. Mary, our hope, have pity on us.

27. Mother of love, of sorrow, and of mercy, pray for us.

28. Holy Mary, preserve us from the pains of hell.

29. O Mary, conceived without sin, pray for us who have recourse to thee.

30. Mary of Sorrows, Mother of Christians, pray for us.

31. Virgin Most Sorrowful, pray for us.

32. Holy Mother, pierce me through; in my heart each wound renew of my Saviour Crucified.

33. Holy Mary, our Deliverer, pray for us and for the souls in Purgatory.

34. Our Lady of La Salette, who bringest sinners to repentance, pray without ceasing for us who have recourse to thee.

35. Grant, O Blessed Joseph, that we may pass through our lives free from sin, ever secure under thy fatherly care.

36. Saint Michael Archangel, defend us in the battle, that we may not be lost in the dreadful Judgement.

37. That Thou wouldst recall the erring to the unity of the Church, and lead all unbelievers to the light of the Gospel: we beseech Thee, O Lord, to hear us.

38. From a sudden and unprovided death, O Lord, deliver us.

39. That Thou mayest deign to humble the enemies of the Holy Church: we beseech Thee to hear us.

40. O Most Pure Heart of the Most Blessed Virgin Mary, obtain for me from Jesus purity and humility of heart.

Here, to conclude, is a prayer to ask for the grace of doing our work well. It is directed to St. Joseph, head of the Holy Family, patron of the Universal Church, who by his work provided for Jesus and Mary-for God and God’s Mother. We might say the prayer slowly, from time to time, with an eye on how far our own work habitually shows forth the qualities the prayer asks for. The prayer was indulgenced by Saint Pius X (who was named Joseph at baptism):

O glorious Saint Joseph, model of all those who have to spend their lives in work, obtain for me the grace of working in a spirit of penance, to make amends for my many sins,-of working conscientiously, putting devotion to duty above my own inclinations,-of working gratefully and joyously, considering it an honour to employ and develop, by means of my work, the gifts I have received from God,-of working methodically, peacefully, temperately, and patiently, never flinching before weariness and difficulties,- of doing above all entirely selfless work with the pure intention of pleasing God, death being always before my eyes and the account I shall have to render of time lost, of talents left unused, of good left undone, and of that self-satisfied conceit in success which is so fatal to work for God. All for Jesus, all through Mary, all according to thy example, O Patriarch Saint Joseph, -that shall be my watchword in life and in death. Amen.

(Biographical Note. -Frederick William Faber was born in Yorkshire on June 28th, 1814. He spent eight years as a clergyman in the Church of England before becoming a Catholic on November 17th, 1845. He was ordained a Catholic priest on Holy Saturday, 1847. He joined before long the Oratorian Fathers of St. Philip Neri, and spent the rest of his life in that Congregation. He died in the London Oratory on September 26th, 1863. He had great largeness of mind; his heart was most loving. His works include: All for Jesus; Bethlehem; Growth in Holiness; Spiritual Conferences, and The Foot of the Cross. He also wrote some well-known hymns, among them Faith of Our Fathers.)

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Abortion—The Great Injustice

BY H.P. DUNN (1978)

INDEX

1. CIVIL WAR

There is a civil war going on in this country right under our noses. The casualties are enormous. Nobody knows exactly how many young Australians are disappearing without trace but the annual loss must be at least 20,000. In New Zealand about 5,000 are dying each year. And scarcely anyone sheds a tear. The Government, paralyzed by ultra-democracy, seems unable to stop the slaughter. By comparison the road toll, which attracts so much attention, is of little consequence.

These young lives are being lost through abortion. Has our country any enemies? Of course it has. We have fought in foreign wars at least once every generation since our history began. And our current enemies, real but unidentified, are delighted at our abortion toll. For all we know they might even be subsidizing our abortion clinics. This is a very cheap and safe form of warfare for them—we kill ourselves off and in a few more years they will be able to walk in unopposed.

In the USA the lives lost through abortion in one year total over one and half million, which is more than all that country’s war deaths in her whole history. Throughout the world there must be about 40 million induced that country’s war deaths in her whole history. Throughout the world there must be about 40 million induced 50) in which half the population of Europe perished. It can also be seen as the mechanism of the possible demise of Western culture. If it needs a million people to produce one genius, we are discarding our future geniuses ruthlessly.

2. HISTORICAL

Every society has had abortions but it has been only in the past 50 years that the progressive advances in surgery, anaesthesia, blood transfusion and antibiotics have made the operation safe and common. Russia introduced abortion as a central plank of Communist policy after the 1917 Revolution. An essential logic forced her to do so—rejection of God and His law, easy divorce and sexual freedom. But she has twice gone through cycles of restricting, relaxing and again restricting abortion, as it repeatedly devastated her society. Other Communist countries and Scandinavia, materialistic and post Christian, soon followed suit but the English speaking world resisted the trend until 1967, the year that the British Abortion Act was passed. Britain’s abortions then soared from about 1,000 a year to over 180,000. They seem to have stabilized at that level, probably a measure of reproductive exhaustion. Any abortion statistics must be regarded as minimum figures because of under-reporting. It serves the interests of patients, governments, and the tax burdens of clinics and surgeons to keep the figures low.

We cannot point the finger at “the degenerate English.” Even without explicit legal permission abortions in Canada, Australia and New Zealand have increased rapidly. We have abortion on demand de facto if not de jure.

3. DEFINITIONS

Obviously great numbers of people are in favour of abortion but it is also obvious that few of them understand, or even want to understand, exactly what is involved. A few definitions are needed. In all the emotional and confusing discussions and debates about this subject the only way to achieve clarity of thought is to refer repeatedly to two simple questions.

1. What is the foetus?

2. What is abortion?

4. WHAT IS THE FOETUS?

We have known for 100 years that human life begins at conception when the male sperm unites with the female ovum (egg cell). But now we have the spectacle of doctors talking like peasants and saying that human life begins at quickening (when the mother first feels the baby’s movements during the fourth month); or when the cord is cut; or when the baby is two days old; or even when it learns to read and can communicate! These preposterous suggestions are made because they are essential in order to justify killing the child early in pregnancy, or soon after birth, if it proves to be abnormal.

It is unscientific and anti-intellectual to deny that life begins at conception. At that time the child receives its genetic endowment, and from then onwards it is different from every other human being since the dawn of history or in the future. All it does during the next nine months is to differentiate into various organs and to grow.

It is absurd to deny that this small, even microscopic, living organism within the reproductive tract of the mother is a genuine human being. It is not a “potential” human being. It is a perfect human with an anatomy and physiology appropriate to each particular stage of its life. Life is a continuum from conception through to death.

More significant still, this living human organism has also a metaphysical character which is of infinite importance compared with its physical nature. It has an unique immortal soul created by God, breathed into it by God at the start of its life, and destined to live in His presence for all eternity.

When Mary and Elizabeth greeted each other after the Annunciation, they had no doubts, in spite of their ignorance of embryology, that what they carried in their wombs were unborn children of transcendent significance for the world. St. John leaped for joy within his mother in the presence of the Saviour and the Blessed Virgin burst forth into her Magnificat. The Unborn Child had arrived to bring salvation and justice to all future generations of unborn children.

5. WHAT IS ABORTION?

Anyone who supports abortion must be forced to face up to the horrors of these procedures. It is no longer acceptable to hide behind ignorance, euphemisms or sentimentalism, such as: “The doctor had to take my baby away”; “I wasn’t allowed to have the baby”; “We’ll have to terminate your pregnancy” (which really means “We’ll have to exterminate your baby”); “We’ll perform a therapeutic abortion.”

This last adjective makes doctors feel good, but it is a misnomer. Abortion is not a therapy for any systemic disease. The only accurate term is “induced abortion” and that should be used honestly in all cases; it also avoids confusion with the common accidental, or spontaneous, miscarriages.

THE CHILD MUST DIE

The essence of induced abortion is the death of the child. It is necessary to stress this ugly fact because it is through the death of the child that the benefits of abortion are believed to flow to the individual and society. In some cases the child does not die and importunately clings to life with a remarkable tenacity. The operation is then a failure and in the USA there have been damages claims against doctors for allowing the child to survive. One child even sued the doctor, through its parents, because he failed to abort it and it had come to birth with a rubella defect. Are we all going, mad? But note that there is a certain crazy logic among abortionists.

In the notable Glasgow scandal (1) a similar situation was described in Court. A hospital porter rescued a live 26 week foetus just before it was to be thrown into the incinerator. The press report is quoted to illustrate the pass that modern medicine has come to.

“ . . . it was suggested by the Procurator Fiscal that, while the Abortion Act gave doctors the right to terminate pregnancy, it did not take away from them the duty to take every step to try to revive a child which might be viable . . . The view was expressed by certain medical witnesses that, the operation being an abortion, the object of which was to prevent the child’s survival, resuscitatory measures might not be expected. When it was suggested to one consultant that, where there was a late termination of pregnancy, it should be treated as a possible live birth, the view was expressed that to do so would he to deny the purpose of the operation, and ‘legally you are not entitled to expect it to survive.’”

How do doctors feel in their new role of baby killers? Since the above case it is the rule in many hospitals when there is a late abortion (which is really a premature delivery) that a paediatrician must be present in the operating theatre. The gynaecologist does the operation whose aim is that the baby should die, and the paediatrician then works hard to ensure its survival. Crazy logic again.

STAGES OF PREGNANCY

In early pregnancy an abortion may not be a great risk for the mother. But, whatever the procedure chosen, it is 100 per cent fatal for the baby.

THE AGE OF VIABILITY

This is the stage of pregnancy at which the baby is capable of surviving outside the womb. It is a useful medico legal concept, even though it cannot be defined precisely. In the recent past it was always set at 28 weeks and no doctor would interfere with a pregnancy until that date had been passed, but with the advances in paediatric care it is now back to 26, or even 24, weeks. There are even two reported survivors at an estimated 21 weeks, weighing about one pound (950g.).

“MENSTRUAL EXTRACTION”

It is hard to find a more dishonest term than this misnomer. It is a new technique in which abortion is induced at the earliest possible time, even before the mother knows for certain that she is pregnant. If her period is a few days overdue, or even up to two weeks late, the contents of the womb can be sucked out by inserting a small plastic tube through the cervix and applying suction with a large syringe. What comes out may be simply menstrual endometrium but in most cases it is early pregnancy tissue and the (unrecognizable) baby.

UP TO 14 WEEKS

The cervix is dilated by instruments and the foetus, being small and fragile, is removed from its uterine home either by forceps and curette or by a suction curette. This latter method involves inserting a large plastic tube into the womb and applying suction by an electric pump. In both techniques the baby is fragmented in being expelled from the warm sanctuary of its mother’s uterus. The arms and legs are pulled off, it is decapitated, its thorax is crushed, its gut spills out.

FROM 16 TO 24 WEEKS

The baby is now too large to be dragged out through the cervix but, thanks to the advances of modern science, it can be disposed of in other ways.

INTRA-AMNIOTIC SALINE

A long needle is inserted through the mother’s abdominal wall into the cavity of the womb and a large amount of liquor (the fluid in which the baby lives and moves) is sucked out with a 50ml. syringe. An equal quantity of concentrated salt solution is then injected. This kills the baby in an hour or two. It is literally pickled alive, its skin becomes scarlet and it looks like a radiation victim. A few hours later the uterus starts contracting and discharges its dead and already necrotic burden. The patient must therefore go through a painful miniature labour and witness the result of her abortion.

Things do not always work out as well as expected. In some cases the labour does not start; in others the small baby is still alive when delivered. In Japan the method was discontinued after Dr. Wagatsuma reported 25 mothers’ deaths resulting from it. But, because of its convenience, it is still widely used in Western countries. Other chemicals are used sometimes. They all involve some maternal risks. All are fatal for the baby.

“DO-IT-YOURSELF ABORTIONS”

These remarkable substances are now widely used by abortionists. They are long chain fatty acids which cause the uterus to contract and either deliver the child at full term or abort it at an earlier stage. If you hear of “do-ityourself” abortion projects in early pregnancy, they probably refer to the use of prostaglandins in vaginal pessaries as soon as the period is “overdue.”

When prostaglandins are used the baby is not killed before being delivered but dies from prematurity soon afterwards. The following quotation highlights the grim realities of late abortions: (2)

“The do-it-yourself abortion appears to be on the way to a come back in the form of Prostin-E2, which is to be put out by the Upjohn Company of Michigan, and will be used in the form of a pessary to induce abortions, or, in the pro-abortion terminology, to bring on a menstrual period. Dr. Joseph Stanton, President of the Value of Life Committee in Boston, notes that the warning on the drug label for Prostin-E2 will read: ‘Warning—a live born foetus may occur.’”

OVER 24 WEEKS

When the foetus is almost at the stage of viability the easiest and quickest abortion is by hysterectomy, which is really a miniature Caesarean section. The abdomen is opened, the womb is incised from top to bottom and the baby is lifted out. It may weigh about one pound. It makes some weak movements of its arms and legs and tries to breathe. Sometimes it manages a pathetic cry like a kitten, then after a few minutes it dies an asphyxial death from prematurity and exposure.

If it had been left in the womb for another few weeks it could have survived in its cot but what the mother wants is for it to die. That is the whole object of the exercise. Not infrequently there is a mistake in estimating the maturity of the pregnancy and the baby refuses to die. Instead of being only 26 weeks it might actually be 30 weeks with a reasonable chance of survival. When it grows into childhood it will he a constant reproach to its parents who had sought its death.

Hysterectomy is quick, simple and financially rewarding to the aborting doctor. And what does he do when the child starts crying in the theatre and he envisages a dissatisfied customer with months of incubator care in the paediatric ward? After his years of training in medical school and postgraduate posts, and his 24 centuries of Hippocratic tradition of service to his newborn patients, he comes up with a brilliant idea (which I have heard of several times in cases of late abortions or abnormal babies)—he drowns it in a bucket of water! Man’s inhumanity to man.

DISPOSAL

At the end of all this sordid business the problem of disposal of the remains has to be faced by the equally supine nursing staff. Incineration is the favoured method for the larger victims. Smaller ones go out with the sewage.

In the most shocking exposure of the cold blooded abortion racket in Britain by Litchfield and Kentish (3) there are several accounts of doctors selling the foetuses for profit. After all, why throw away a perfectly useful young corpse? Some went to soap makers who found that infant fat makes the best product. Others were sold to medical research establishments where the parenchymatous organs were minced and used for tissue culture work or other interesting projects.

Other accounts are heard of babies being decapitated and their heads being perfused to keep the brains alive for experiments. Doctor—monsters give a new meaning to the ancient prayer, “Requiescat in pace.” No scientific advances can ever come from unethical experiments. One reason is that the true scientist must hold to certain basis virtues, mainly justice and truth. As a class abortionists are untrustworthy.

So end, in the cause of sexual freedom, the lives of millions of our fellow human beings, conceived in love (we assume), formed in the image of their Father in Heaven, destined for immortality but now discarded, dismembered or burned, unwanted, unremembered, unbaptised.

THE RISKS OF ABORTION

Abortion protagonists are always assuring the gullible public that this is a minor procedure without risk. This is a dangerous assertion. Of course the earlier the interference the less hazardous abortion is but, in the very nature of things, any physiological process (pregnancy and delivery) must always be safer than its artificial interruption.

Abortionists commonly quote official mortality statistics for abortion and for pregnancy as a whole and, if the former is, say, 0.1 deaths per 1000 abortions and the latter 0.3 per 1000, they claim that abortion is safe and therefore a good thing. But the argument is not quite so simple.

It is important to determine precisely what the definition of maternal mortality is. In most English speaking countries “maternal mortality” is calculated on obstetric deaths plus abortion deaths, therefore the “maternal” figure must always be greater than abortion deaths alone. In this country, New Zealand, (the definition includes all deaths up to six months after delivery or miscarriage. The main cause of “maternal mortality” ‘at present is traffic accidents!

The immediate hazards of induced abortion are unchanged even with modern techniques. They are: haemorrhage, infection and perforation of the uterus. The remote hazards are equally serious but may not show up for years. They are: sterility (tubal obstruction caused by infection at the time of the operation); incompetence of the cervix (caused by forcible dilatation of the cervix during the abortion); Rh sensitization which may lead to the deaths of subsequent babies; and uterine rupture during a later pregnancy.

These risks were stressed in the Wynn Report (4) which in 1974 was presented to Mrs. Justice Lane’s Committee. The House of Commons had appointed it to look into the working of the Abortion Act 1967. The Wynns’ findings were attacked by the abortion faction but numerous medical articles since then have confirmed the accuracy of their conclusions.

INCOMPETENCE OF THE CERVIX

Rupture of the cervix musculature during abortion makes it weaker. During a subsequent pregnancy it is liable to dilate silently and allow a premature birth, possibly four, six or even eight weeks before the due date. Premature babies are, of course, at risk of death, cardiac abnormalities (“hole in the heart”) or brain injury causing them to become spastics. The Wynns estimated that the cost to the country of the sequel of abortion is greater than that of the problem for which the abortion was originally induced. In other words, it would be cheaper in the long run to give a girl $ 1 000 to have her baby (and save its invaluable life) than to look after her handicapped subsequent child.

Abortionist doctors reacted sharply against the Wynns but surely they will believe Professor Dixon, of the University Department of Obstetrics and Gynaecology in Bristol. He (5) reported 211 patients who had previously had vaginal terminations of their first pregnancies. Of them 43.2% were pregnant again within a year of being aborted—which suggests that the reasons for the operation were inconsequential or non-existent.

HAZARDS OF MENSTRUAL EXTRACTION

This “lunch hour abortion” is sold to the public as “less dangerous than crossing the road.” But any interference with pregnancy, however early, is not without some risks.

REASONS FOR ABORTION

If abortions are performed so frequently it would be logical to ask what are the medical indications for the operation? The aim of every ethical surgeon is always to have an incontrovertible “indication” for each procedure.

There are now scarcely any articles in the medical literature holding that certain diseases should be managed by inducing abortion. It can be confidently stated that there are no medical indications for “therapeutic” abortion, that is, no conditions in which induction of abortion is a lesser risk than leaving the pregnancy to proceed normally until term, or at least viability.

Those who have little experience of obstetrics are reluctant to accept this because they often do not realize the dangers of interfering. If the patient is so ill that pregnancy will be fatal, abortion (or Caesarian) is also a major hazard for her. It is by no means a panacea.

To illustrate the point: An obstetrical professor who had normal views on pregnancy management, the rights of the child and the best, interests of the mother, had a patient with chronic renal failure. He carried her through pregnancy and delivery satisfactorily. Of course her expectation of life was limited before pregnancy but was no worse after it, and she had brought to life a perfect child.

The next year she was pregnant again but her first professor was overseas and she fell into the hands of a second professor who was an enthusiast for abortion. He talked this unfortunate Catholic woman into having an abortion. And she died of renal failure two days later. Unfortunately abortionists never learn.

PSYCHIATRIC DISEASE

The leading indication for abortion is now “psychiatric disease.” In countries where abortion is legal or is accepted de facto (Australia), about 90% of the patients are listed as “psychiatric.” This simply means, in common parlance, having an .anxiety state.” During pregnancy everyone at some stage suffers from anxiety—the mother, the father, the mother-in-law, the nurses and even the doctor. This must be regarded as the norm. The duty of the doctor is to call forth toughness, resilience and self-confidence from his patient; it can be done, even in teenagers. But if he makes abortion his first suggestion he sabotages the woman’s innate strength and protective instinct.

SUICIDE

One of the most difficult problems to handle is the patient who says: “If I don’t get an abortion I’m going to kill myself. And it’ll be your fault.” This is clinical blackmail. It is met with only in abortion and drug situations.

Suicide is very rare in pregnancy. Rosenberg and Silver found the incident was only one sixth of the rate in non pregnant women of comparable age. Doctors have a suicide rate that is twice the average, and among psychiatrists it is 70 times that of pregnant women. It would seem more appropriate if the women were advising the psychiatrists rather than the other way round.

THE UNWANTED CHILD FALLACY

In an abortion interview the key question is: “Is this an unwanted pregnancy?” What it really means is: is this an unwanted child? If the mother replies “wanted,” there is no hesitation about managing her pregnancy normally. But if she uses that fatal little prefix, “un-,” the child will die.

The commonly accepted belief is that the child is thereby doomed to be unwanted next year, and in five years, and in twenty years, and will end up as a maladjusted delinquent. This preposterous proposition is believed implicitly by many psychiatrists who are influenced by Freudian errors.

It takes little experience of life to know that one changeless characteristic of women is: they change their minds. In fact they themselves describe this charming fickleness as “a woman’s privilege.” During pregnancy they invariably feel differently at every stage—in the first trimester, at quickening, during the last weeks, in labour, immediately after birth, while breast feeding, and on returning home.

Unfortunately the abortion question is put to them at the 8–12 weeks stage when they are depressed, tired and nauseated. The pregnancy is often unwanted; the baby is not yet a reality to them.

The Family Planning Association has a slogan: Every child a wanted child. The abortion organizations say: Every child has a right to be born wanted. A more accurate statement would be: Every child has a right to be born. Its parents have a duty to make it wanted, now and in the future. To reject a child as unwanted is a sin of injustice.

OTHER DISEASES

Nowadays it is hardly necessary to consider each major system illnesses because they have all been disproved so often as justification for abortion. In my own major review of the world literature on this subject” (6) I provided 62 references which in toto support this contention.

On the matter of malignancy, for example, I quoted the late Sir Stanford Cade, the foremost British authority on cancer:

“The course of the majority of malignant tumours is not directly affected by pregnancy. It is not a dilemma of mother versus child . . .”

Ribeiro and Palmer (7) confirm this in a major article on breast cancer and pregnancy. “Patients presenting with early breast carcinoma in the first trimester should be treated in the same manner as non-pregnant patients. There is no harm in allowing the pregnancy to continue . . .” And then, in that inexplicable and illogical fashion that is met with so often among modern doctors, they add: “ . . . unless it is against the express views of the patient and her husband.”

The doctor’s duty is to his patient (and he immediately has two of them here, whatever the mother may think), to his professional integrity and to justice. It is not to the husband, or to society, or to their particular social problems.

CRIMINAL ABORTION

It is often assumed that legalizing abortion will reduce the number of criminal abortions. Pass the crime on to the doctors because they will do the job so much better, even if a little more expensively.

There are two fallacies in this concept. One is that criminal abortions are both numerous and fatal. They are probably very few because deaths from this cause are rare—less than 200 a year in the USA; in Australia about 6; in New Zealand an average of only one!

The other fallacy is that the criminal abortionists will be put out of business. To imagine that there is only a fixed quantum of induced abortions in the community and that, as legal abortions go up, criminal ones will go down is a fanciful concept that ignores both human nature and the observed facts.

The Royal College of Obstetricians and Gynaecologists, (8) whose Report accurately predicted all the disasters that have come to pass since Britain legalized abortion, pointed out that liberal laws do not reduce criminal activity.

Nearly 10 years after the British Abortion Act was passed the Lane Report (9) was able to say: “It is a notorious fact that, both before and since the Abortion Act came into force, a substantial . . . number of illegal abortions have taken place . . .”

THE ABNORMAL CHILD

In recent years eugenic indications for abortion have become much more common and persuasive. The reason for this is that we now have new techniques for diagnosing abnormalities at an early stage in pregnancy, notably ultrasonic scanning and amniocentesis.

Ultrasound can outline the foetus at a very early age, at least by eight weeks, and by 16 weeks most gross anatomical abnormalities can be demonstrated. But the accuracy of the technique is sometimes very disappointing.

AMNIOCENTESIS

In this method a long needle is passed through the mother’s abdomen into the cavity of the uterus and a sample of liquor is removed for examination of its cells and chemistry. The chromosomal nature of the cells shed by the baby’s skin or lungs can be determined and a fairly accurate diagnosis of some genetic abnormalities, notably mongolism (Down’s syndrome), can be made.

In the chemical analysis tests are made for alpha-fetoprotein. If this is found in excess the child may have a nervous system defect such as spina bifida (the lower part of the spinal canal being open) or anencephaly (a defect of the back of the skull)—these babies seldom live for more than a day.

CLINICAL APPLICATION

The laboratory work is brilliant but the clinical use of amniocentesis, even putting the most charitable interpretation on doctors’ thought processes, is often stupid. It cannot be stressed too strongly that: there is no point in doing an amniocentesis unless an induced abortion will certainly follow if the diagnosis is unfavorable. Otherwise the whole procedure is merely a self assuring exercise for both patient and doctor. “Your baby’s all right!” Smiles all round. But at what a cost!

DANGERS

It is almost routine now to offer patients with a bad history, or those over the age of 40, an amniocentesis at 16 weeks to see whether or not they are carrying that object of hatred and rejection, a mongol child. But this is a risky procedure and it is naive to imagine that it can be performed in an innocuous fashion.

The needle, which is inserted “blind,” might injure or kill the baby. It might penetrate the mother’s bowel, bladder or large blood vessels, leading to peritonitis or haemorrhage. It might pass through the placenta and precipitate Rh sensitization; this may be fatal not only for this baby but also for any subsequent one. There is a significant risk that the procedure will itself cause a miscarriage to occur.

MISTAKEN DIAGNOSIS

There is a naive and touching belief in the infallibility of modern medical diagnosis and treatment. If this were true, doctors would not be so nervous when they fall ill; and undertakers would be out of a job. If 1 say: “Abortion of a child, whether normal or abnormal, is a gross injustice,” the unrelenting profession regards me as obscurantist, un-scientific, reactionary and narrow minded. O Lord, keep my hands unstained by innocent blood.

Human rights do not attach solely to normal citizens. The abnormal at any age have the right to life, to justice, to love and care.

THE LAW SHOULD UPHOLD HUMAN RIGHTS

The modern legislative trend relaxing abortion laws must be regarded as retrogressive. It is completely opposed to the ancient legal codes. The Sumerian Code (c. 2000 B.C.) is the oldest know system to penalize a citizen who caused an abortion.

Again in the Assyrian Code (c. 1500 B.C.) the foetus is referred to as a human life and a man. And indirectly in the Book of Exodus, (21, 22–23) “If men fall out and one of them strikes a woman who is pregnant, so that the child is stillborn, but she herself lives, he must pay whatever sum the woman’s husband demands and the judges agree; if her death follows, then life must pay for life.”

RECENT LEGISLATION

The constant theme of legal history is: protection of the unborn child. Now we are asked to believe that this has all been a mistake. New laws in most Western countries during the past 20 years have generally removed from the child the protection of the law, but we can detect the first movements back to more restrictive legislation, the latest example being the Contraception, Sterilization and Abortion Act (1977) in New Zealand.

Some abortion pressure groups seek not only “reform” (meaning “relaxation”) of existing laws but even complete repeal, making the matter “a private one between the patient and her doctor.” . This would be abortion on demand—the absolute death knell of the child.

The “reformers” blind themselves to the fact that abortion is different from all other operations—it is the only one which, of its nature, is a criminal act. Its essence is the taking of the life of a third party, the unborn child. It is entirely proper that the State should regulate or prohibit it.

In Australia the Menhennet decision has, in practice, brought abortion on demand. It is now almost impossible for an abortion prosecution to succeed. One country after another has tried to achieve well regulated abortion but this is an impossible aim. There is no middle ground between a strict abortion law and a lax one. To quote Prof. Lewis, of London: (10) “Too late they (the British Government) realized that, if you change the law (even if you do so merely to make it more clear to the public), you imply liberalization; liberalize the law and you open the floodgates.” The reason all these laws fail is that fundamentally they are trying to work out a right way of doing a wrong thing. And that is impossible. Favourite slogans of abortionists are: “Abortion—a woman’s right”; and “A woman’s right to choose.” These are fallacious. It is not, and never has been, a woman’s right to kill her child, born or unborn.

HUMAN RIGHTS

The most fundamental right, from which all other rights spring, is the right of the innocent to life. This does not derive from human government but from the Creator, who is the ultimate origin of love, of life and of law. It is illogical to claim that the child in the womb has no legal rights. In fact most legal systems allow him to inherit if his father should die before his birth; and he may later sue for damages suffered during intrauterine life. In countries which until recently had capital punishment, a woman could not be executed until her child was born because, as an innocent citizen, he ought not to suffer the injustice of indirect judicial death.

THE HIPPOCRATIC OATH

The great Greek pagan physician Hippocrates (c.460–357 B.C), proclaimed his Oath which for 24 centuries has sublimely expressed the ideals of Medicine. One section states: “I will follow that system of regimen which, according to my ability and judgment, I consider for the benefit of my patients, and will abstain from whatever is deleterious or mischievous. I will give no deadly medicine to anyone if asked, nor suggest such counsel; and in like manner I will not give to a woman a pessary to produce abortion. With purity and holiness I will pass my life and practice my art . . .”

THE DECLARATION OF GENEVA

The modern version of the Hippocratic Oath is this Declaration which was formulated following the revelation of the inhumanity and mass murders perpetrated by Nazi doctors under Hitler’s orders. Among other things it states: “I will maintain the utmost respect for human life from the time of conception; even under threat I will not use my medical knowledge contrary to the laws of humanity.” Since the revolutionary work of Professor Sir William Liley (11), of Auckland, the child in the womb is now seen as a patient in his own right, capable of being investigated, diagnosed and treated. When a pregnant woman places herself in a doctor’s care he immediately has two patients. May he kill one of them at the request of the other? Never.

THE MORALITY OF ABORTION

There may be many areas of uncertainty in modern theology but in the matter of abortion there is not the slightest doubt about the ethical status. Abortion is the direct killing of an innocent human being and has always been regarded as murder. Perhaps homicide would be a better term, more consistent with modern legal definitions.

Murder implies aggression with malice aforethought; in all charity we must assume that these elements are rarely present. Most women have their judgment disturbed by fear and extraneous pressures. Most doctors act on the mistaken premises that the foetus has no rights; that it constitutes a real threat to its mother; and that they have the authority to decide its fate.

DIRECT KILLING

“Direct” is emphasized because sometimes indirect killing, even though foreseen and permitted, may not be wrong. A mother with, say, a cancer of the cervix, may be treated with radium or deep X-rays even though this may indirectly harm the unborn child or possibly precipitate an accidental miscarriage. But induced abortion always means direct killing of the child.

INNOCENT

“Innocent” is stressed because the foetus is sometimes considered an unjust aggressor on the life of the mother. This is stretching imagination too far. The baby did not force itself on her. It did not ask to be conceived. It is incapable of volitional thought or aggression. It may be a threat, not because of its intention, but merely because it happens to be in that situation at that particular time. And, indeed, the threat concept is greatly exaggerated.

HUMAN BEING

“Human being” is the final important phrase. Those who advocate abortion are forced to work out a philosophical system which is denigratory of the foetus in order to justify its destruction. They say it is not a human being, a human person or a human life., it is a parasite on the mother that can therefore be removed if necessary. The abortionists have another slogan: “A woman has the right to do what she likes with her own body.” Her own body! This is almost invincible ignorance. As every schoolboy knows, the baby is a separate individual right from the time of conception. All the mother does is give it shelter, accommodate it, feed it, nourish it from her own resources and, in the case of normal women, cherish it.

As early as the six weeks stage its heart is already pumping its own blood which has the same ABO group and Rh type which it will have to the end of its life. It is already a boy or a girl; the colour of its eyes and its hair are already determined; and it cannot grow up into anything other than a human baby.

ETHICAL ASSESSMENT

The killing of the unborn child is always wrong, whatever the circumstances. It contravenes the Fifth Commandment: Thou shalt not kill. This is not a Catholic, nor even a Christian, commandment. It was given by God to Moses and through him to the whole human race. But the obligation, being derived from the Natural Law and therefore inherent in all human beings, antedated Moses. The obligation to protect innocent human life rests equally on all men, of all religions and in all ages.

Christ came to redeem us, to illumine the old law and to give us a clear insight into His plan for our salvation. He provided us with the sacraments and other means of grace to help us, He gave us the apostolic succession to guide us, and He consoles us by sharing our unending sufferings.

He was in danger as soon as He was born; now children are hated before and after birth. He was a political refugee as an infant, fleeing into Egypt by night; now there are millions displaced from their homelands. We suffer despair in the face of so much evil; He similarly cried out in the Old Testament phrase: “My God, my God, why hast Thou forsaken me?.”

CHRISTIAN TRADITION

Since the earliest times the Christian Church has consistently condemned abortion as murder. Yet we now witness the spectacle of the clergy organizing abortion services! . . . the growing participation of clergyman in the USA as prime movers in abortion reform and referral. Clergy consultation services offer women guidance and assistance in obtaining safe, legal abortions.” (12)

The command, “Thou shalt not kill the foetus by an abortion,” was found in The Didache (80–100 A.D.). In the East, Athenagoras (177 A.D.) and, in the West, Tertullian (240 A.D.) both described abortion as murder. Similar statements were made by St. Cyprian (258 A.D.), St. Hippolytus (235 A.D.) and the Council of Elvira (300 A.D.).

St. Basil the Great (375 A.D.) stated: “A woman who deliberately destroys a foetus is answerable for murder. And any fine distinction as to its being completely formed or unformed is not admissible amongst us.” In the 5th century St. John Chrysostom, St. Augustine and St. Jerome all held similar views.

Ancient and modern authorities are quoted in detail in a notable legal journal (13). For two thousand years, it says, “the Catholic Church has always and consistently and without exception denounced abortion as a moral evil, as a sin, and in certain circumstances even as a crime.” It quoted the rejection of abortion as “an unspeakable crime” in two Papal Encyclicals, in a reply of the Holy Office, in eight Papal Allocutions, and in the Second Vatican Council” (14) .

IS ABORTION EVER JUSTIFIABLE?

This is the key question. The only logical answer must be “No.” Abortion is wrong, it is a grave sin and a crime against the innocent. Its prohibition is absolute, not relative. No circumstances, however serious, can justify it. If we hold to the principle of justice we must adhere to it not only in the easy problems but also when they are difficult and heartbreaking.

Regrettably we must admit that the majority of Western countries answer with a “Yes.” It is this failure to he absolutely opposed to injustice that has led step by step to the abortion nightmare of the present time. Anyone who makes exceptions in this matter, perhaps in cases of rape or foetal abnormality, is not really opposed to abortion at all. He is merely opposed to large numbers of abortions.

Those who would permit the occasional abortion, perhaps to show how broadminded they are, are pragmatists. That is, they believe that the end justifies the means; or in other words, that one may do evil that good may ensue. They act on expediency, not on principle. This philosophy was condemned by the ancient pagan philosophers. More important still, it was also condemned by St. Paul(15). The end does not justify the means.

Christ, our divine yet human model, never compromised on principle. He was never confused by the “grey areas” of which modern theologians are so enamoured. He was a black and white man. Perhaps he had pregnant women in mind when He said: “Greater love than this no man hath, that a man lay down his life for his friends.”

THE GUILT IS SHARED

All who co-operate in abortions, directly or indirectly, proximately or remotely, formally or materially, share in the guilt in greater or lesser degree. This applies not only to doctors and nurses but also to all those who counsel or facilitate abortion—politicians, professors and lecturers, writers and the news media, pornographers and women’s “liberation” activists.

Shakespeare, in a similar shedding of innocent blood, had Lady Macbeth hopelessly trying to wash the stain from her hands. Dante (c. 1300 A.D.) wrote: “ . . . for the river of blood draws nigh, in which boils everyone who does violence to others.” (16)

THE IMPACT OF ABORTION ON SOCIETY

Abortion has split society down the middle, exactly as it has done the medical profession. It has produced more bitter divisions and ill will than anything apart from war. Families have been disrupted, marriages have ended. Such a large number of young people in society have been involved in abortion, some while still at school, that there seems to be scarcely any normal youth left, unscarred by sexual adventures or the killing of their own offspring.

One of the reasons for the “generation gap,” that silent conflict between parents and children, is that the teenagers realize instinctively that their child-rejecting parents do not really love the young. Or, if Mother has had an abortion, or screams from an abortion bandwagon, they will hate her for killing their brother or sister and they will see that they themselves must have narrowly missed that fate.

One of the traumatic experiences of growing up is discovering that parents are not perfect. If they have feet of clay it is bad enough, but if they turn out to be killers it can be devastating. Keep your precious money, give me jeans, bare feet, drugs, an unkempt appearance, anything that will separate me from materialism!

DEMOGRAPHIC IMPACT

Contraception makes a small dent in the population graph. Sterilization permanently removes a large section of the younger marrieds from the childbearing area. Abortion makes the greatest impact of all on the demographic structure of the country. The birth rates in all Western countries are at the lowest levels on record. I have always believed that any country with a birth rate less than 20 per 1000 has lost the will to live.

Australia’s birth rate in 1977 was about 16.2; New Zealand’s 17.0. Australia’s growth rate was 1.1 % and, if it were not for immigration, it would have been only 0.79%. New Zealand’s growth rate in 1977 was only 0.1 % Zero Population Growth! And a corollary of that is—zero economic growth.

ZPG is a demographic fiction, a biological impossibility because of the inexorable ageing of the population. It is merely a moment in the country’s history when the falling curve of the birth rate crosses the rising death rate graph. Britain in 1977 for the first time on record had a higher death rate (12.0) than birth rate (11.9). A dying country. And all brought about by the anti-life techniques introduced by the medical profession. What wars and sickness have failed to do, society and its doctors have managed to achieve.

WHY THE ABORTION EXPLOSION?

It is only when a proper diagnosis of this extraordinary phenomenon is made that the cause can be clearly identified and rational treatment instituted. It is not simply a matter of women’s lacking financial resources or social contacts. Providing money, services and friendship will therefore not do anything more than treat the malaise symptomatically.

Abortion must be seen as just one facet of the whole syndrome of sexual abnormality. If a person supports abortion we can deduce accurately that, ipso facto, he must also support the other elements of the syndrome. The main ones are: contraception, sterilization and then abortion. It is important to recognize that there is an inevitable progression from the first to the third.

If this is so, it is illogical to hold, as so many do, that expanded contraceptive services will be a prophylaxis against abortion. It is therefore important to stop the Family Planning Association from indoctrinating schoolchildren in their esoteric arts ostensibly to prevent abortion. The progression from contraception to abortion has been the life history of our society, of the medical profession and, a fortiori, of the FPA itself. It is now intimately mixed up in abortion services.

Abortion must also be viewed as an aspect of freedom, notably sexual freedom, and once people are “hooked” on it they will be reluctant to give it up. It is now an essential part of unfettered sexuality. Contraception ushered in the concept of sterile sexuality, the divorce of intercourse from fertility and fecundity. Abortion makes up for its occasional inefficiency and ensures that no new life will appear to complicate sexual activity.

It is therefore essential to the final success of the sexual revolution, whose achievements up to date have been the acceptance of—fornication among the young, adultery, divorce, contraception, sterilization, abortion, homosexuality and related perversions. In abortion the silent, defenceless child in the womb suffers violence. The increasing violence in society should not surprise us. St. Thomas Aquinas (d. 1274 A.D.) had already pointed out that impurity leads inevitably to violence. Seven centuries later Sigmund Freud made a similar observation: sexual abnormality is intimately related to sadism and masochism. Abortionists are violent people at heart.

A GLOBAL DEATH WISH

Women have come to hate their feminine nature, their fruitful wombs and the children who would otherwise issue from them. The whole world seems caught up in a gigantic death wish as though it seeks to eliminate the human species. Homo sapiens is an aggressive animal. He usually bursts out into a major war once in each generation but the fear of the consequences of atomic bombs has forced an uneasy peace. He therefore turns on the easiest victim to hand—the child in the womb. Who is the author of life? And who is the champion of death?

Satan is the prince of darkness and of death. More and more people are beginning to fear the palpable evil in society. It has been fashionable to deny the existence of the Devil but Christ did not suffer from any such constraints and uncertainty. He frequently referred to him: “I saw Satan cast down from Heaven like lightning.” And: “He was a liar and murderer from the beginning.” Abortion is the Devil’s work. He has many willing allies and many foolish dupes, some even wearing clerical collars. What is evil hates what is good. The quintessence of good and innocence is the unborn child, but he is the object of so much hatred and hysteria in our society.

CHRIST LOVES LIFE

Protecting the innocent from injustice is the Prince of Peace and of Life. Christ referred to His identification with life on numerous occasions—“I am the way, the truth and the life”; “I am the bread of life”; “I came that you might have life and have it more abundantly.”

And he had another statement which, if the pronouns are changed, seems to be particularly relevant to abortion: “She who saves her life shall lose it; and she who loses her life for my sake shall find it.” The words of God to the Jews in the Old Testament (17) are also relevant in this context: “ . . . this day I have set a choice before thee, life or death, a blessing or a curse. Wilt thou not choose life . . . ?”

HUMANISM

A philosophy that sets its face against life is secular humanism, which is simply a fancy name for atheism. At least it is consistent in that it advocates not only abortion but also euthanasia for the aged and abnormal.

It is not surprising that, lacking devotion to Our Lord or completely ignorant of Him, many have almost lost their Christian heritage. They choose instead instant sex, sentimental love, temporary marriage and—imperfectly perceived—instant death in abortion.

THE CHURCHES

The Catholic Church stands almost alone in rejecting abortion in all circumstances. Along with Orthodox Judaism it adheres to the Mosaic Commandment.

The Anglican position, as expressed by the Church Assembly Board (18), sanctioned abortion if medical indications were thought to exist. The National Council of Free Churches expressed similar views (19). The late Dr. Alan Guttmacher, President of International Planned Parenthood Federation, the largest abortion referral agency in the world, stated that the liberal Jewish view was equally permissive. He added: “It was only after the firm establishment of the Protestant Movement that medically indicated interruption of pregnancy was given religious, ethical and legal sanction by any Church group.” This highlights the real difficulties which confront the ecumenical movement.

On the other hand, Dietrich Bonhoffer, the Lutheran theologian who was hanged by the Nazis in 1945, wrote in his “Ethics”: “Destruction of the embryo in the mother’s womb is a violation of the right to life which God bestowed upon this nascent life. To raise the question whether we are here concerned already with a human being or not is merely to confuse the issue. The simple fact is that God certainly intended to create a human being, and that this nascent human being has been deliberately deprived of his life. And that is nothing but murder.”

Professor Helmuth Thielecke, of the University of Hamburg: once conception has taken place it is no longer a question of whether the persons concerned have responsibility for a possible parenthood; they have already become parents.”

Professor Karl Barth of Basle came to the conclusion: “He who destroys germinating life kills a man.” For an Orthodox Jewish statement we turn to Rabbi Dr. Immanuel Jakobovits (20 ): “Based on these principles and precedents, present day rabbis are unanimous in condemning abortion, foeticide, or infanticide to eliminate a crippled being, before or after birth, as an unconscionable attack on the sanctity of life.”

PLAN OF ACTION

This is a desperate struggle which points up the feebleness of the Christian witness in society and the timidity of the Church militant. As Malcolm Muggeridge puts it, our motto seems to be “Backward, Christian Soldiers”! This is the most worthwhile campaign we will ever be able to join. The Crusades were pale shadows when compared with the nobility of this clear-cut issue.

It takes only a handful of good men to revitalize society. One saint can support a million ordinary men by his courage and holiness. Christ started out as a minority of one but within three years He turned the world upside down. But the opposition is diabolical and, as He once said, some devils are cast out only by prayer and fasting. That is our formula for success—more prayer and, regrettably, more penance. The Mass is fundamental, but for everyday use the Rosary and devotion to the Blessed Virgin Mary will do the trick.

Only a resurgence of true religion in the churches and the schools will save society from the consequences of practical paganism. Secular education should be abandoned except for the children of avowed agnostics. The Feast of the Holy Innocents, December 28, should be made a national day of prayer and reparation for the evil of abortion. Surely the children of Bethlehem will come to the aid of the suffering children in the modern world.

Government help should be withdrawn from organizations which provide contraceptive and sterilizing services because of their gravitation towards abortion. Pornography and related influences which undermine normal standards of sexuality should be proscribed.

Everyone, but particularly the Churches and opinion formers in society, should have the courage to state plainly that, objectively speaking, abortion is a serious sin.

Whether it is one subjectively for each distressed woman and her advisers no-one can say. Ultimately we shall all have to face the Just Judge after death. How shall we justify our weakness, our cruelty and our ignorance of the true nature of the child in the womb when knowledge and pastoral teachers are at hand? Have abortionists no fear of the wrath of God?

EDUCATION

People should be taught the answers to the two fundamental questions, what is the foetus? And, what is abortion? The horror of abortion will turn sensitive souls against the operation. The young will be fascinated by the modern knowledge of life in the womb. At the stage when most abortions are done the foetus is moving and all his senses are fully developed. He drinks the liquor, sucks his thumb, bears the thumping of his mother’s heart, bowel sounds, conversation, laughter and singing. The womb is a noisy place; 85 decibels have been recorded.

But knowledge alone is not sufficient to protect the child. Doctors and nurses know—but they still abort. The main thrust of education should be directed to human rights and duties, and their derivation from God.

THE SOCIAL CAMPAIGN

In our own marriages the virtues of love and fidelity, purity and courage, should shine like a beacon in a darkening world. From the security of our homes we must stretch out our hands to help those with childbearing problems—health, poverty, or an unmarried predicament.

Most governments provide reasonable social services but there are always some deficiencies to be remedied. Financial assistance to families could well be expanded with increased maternity allowances, family benefits, and income tax deductions for children and their health or educational expenses. Domestic help for mothers and cheap holidays for families deserve more governmental backing. Young mothers with children should be honoured by society with such titles as Mother of the Year or Family of the Year.

THE POLITICAL CAMPAIGN

The best thing is for good men to get into public life. Why should we always be cast in a suppliant role? Getting to know your parliamentary representative is important; you must let him know your views in this important subject by speaking or writing to him. A brief inoffensive letter is all that is needed. If you do not do this he will be overwhelmed by the spurious results of many slanted public opinion polls.

GOD’S WORD

“Before I formed you in the womb I knew you. Before you were born I consecrated you.” Jeremiah, 1:5. “For thou did form my inner parts, thou did knit me together in my mother’s womb.” Psalm 139. “Whoever humbles himself like this child, he is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven.

Whoever receives one such child in my name receives me.” Matt. 18: 4–5

“Let the little children come to me, and do not prevent them., for to such belongs the kingdom of heaven.”

Matt. 19:14.

REFERENCES

1 .Death of a Baby: Inquiry in Glasgow. British Medical J. (1969), I4 June, p. 704–705.

2. Pro-Life News. Canada, Dec., 1977. Warning: The Child May Survive.

3. Litchfield, M. and Kentish, S. Babies for Burning. Serpentine Press, London, 1974.

4. Wynn, M. and Wynn, A. Some Consequences of Induced Abortion to Children Born Subsequently. (1974). The Foundation for Education and Research in Childbearing. London.

5. Richardson, J. A. and Dixon, G. Effects of Legal Termination on Subsequent Pregnancy. British Med. J. (1976), 29 May, 1303–1304.

6. Dunn, H. P. (1968). Therapeutic Abortion In New Zealand. N.Z. Med. J., 68. 253–258.

7. Ribeiro, G. G. and Palmer, M. K. (1977). Breast carcinoma associated with pregnancy: a clinician’s dilemma. British Med. J., Dec., 1524–1527.

8. Legalised Abortion: Report by the Council of the Royal College of Obstetricians and Gynaecologists. British Med. J. . (1966), 1, 850–854,

9. Quoted in British Med. J. . (1976), 11 Aug., p. 431.

10. Lewis, T. L. T. (1970). Aust. N.Z. J. Obstet. Gynaec . . p. 244.

11. Liley, A. W. (1963). British Med. J., 2. 1107.

12. The Auckland Star, Dec. 19, 1970.

13. The Catholic Lawyer (1971), 17. 13–23.

14. Constitution on the Church in the Modern World. n.27, 51.

15. Romans, 3. 8.

16. Divina Comedia. Inferno. Canto XII.

17. Deuteronomy, 30. 19.

18. Church Assembly board. Abortion—an Ethical Discussion, London, 1965.

19. National Council of Free Churches. The Times. 23 March, 1965.

20. “Abortion and the Law,” ed. David T. Smith, The Western Reserve University Press, Cleveland, 1967.

OLD TESTAMENT SERIES: No. 2.

Abraham-The Friend of God

FR. FELIX, O.M. CAP

INDEX

INTRODUCTION

After recounting the death of Noe the biblical narrative resumes with the well-known ethnographical table of Genesis 10, which is a survey of the nations of antiquity descended from the sons of Noe.

Beginning from Japheth this table describes his descendants as occupying “the islands of the Gentiles” (10, 5), an expression which throughout the Old Testament means the islands and coasts of the Mediterranean Ocean. Among them are mentioned Gomer, the eponymous ancestor of the Cimmerians from whom branched the Celts and Indo-Germanic peoples of later times; Magog, Madai, Javan and Thiras-the founders of the Scythians, Medes, Greeks and Thracians respectively; and Tharsis (descendant of Javan) who gave his name to the country of Tharsis (or Tarshish) as Baetica in southern Spain was known in ancient times.

THE CHAMITES,

Next we have the descendants of Cham; and prominence is given to Chanaan who had been cursed by Noe (9, 25), and to the inhabitants of the country called from him Chanaan, which country when Moses wrote was now the Promised Land. (11, 15–19). From Chanaan descended the Phoenicians and the Hethites (or Hittites). Another important name here is Mesram (Misraim in the original), the Hebrew name for Egypt. Of Nemrod (or Nimrod) we have relatively lengthy notice (10, 8–12). He was “a stout hunter before the Lord,” i.e., an exceedingly powerful conqueror, so much so indeed that his achievements became a standard of comparison : “Hence came a proverb: Even as Nernrod the stout hunter before the Lord.” (10, 9). He united under his sole rule Babylon (Babel), Arach (Erech), Achad (Akkad) and Chalanne (Kalneh)-cities “in the land of Sennaar,” i.e. Sumer or Babylonia. The passage : “Out of that land came forth Assur, and built Ninive and the streets of the city and Chale. Resen also between Ninive and Chale : this is the great city.” is better understood of Nemrod. It can mean in the original : Out of that land (Babylonia) he came forth to Assur and built Ninive . . . etc.; and this latter meaning fits the context better. Thus Nemrod would have extended his work of organisation northward and founded the Assyrian empire in turn. A further indication of the Babylonian origin of Assyrian civilisation comes from archaeology. It has been discovered that the Assyrians built their houses of brick and on large artificial mounds as did the Babylonians. Now this was not necessary in Assyria where stone was plentiful to hand, and where danger of inundation by the Tigris did not exist. The explanation, therefore, is thought to be the retention of Babylonian ideas of architecture “with that conservatism so often displayed by primitive peoples.” Again, objects of the type of the early Sumerian period of Babylon have been excavated at Kalat Sharkat which is believed to be the site of Assur.

THE SEMITES

Lastly we have the descendants of Sem. He was the eldest of Noe’s sons, as Moses takes pains to remind us (10, 21); but the Semites are kept for last because the others are recounted only to be dismissed, and the scope of the narrative is restricted to include only the Hebrew people. Heber is here placed third in descent from Sem. In the Gospel, however (St. Luke 3, 35–36), which follows the Greek (Septuagint) version he is fourth-Cainan being added between Arphaxad and Sale. The Septuagint has the authority of the Gospel on the point, and so cannot be called in doubt. This shows that the biblical genealogies are not necessarily from father to son. From Heber in turn was descended Phaleg, so named “because in his days the earth was divided” (10, 25),-a reference, presumably, to the dispersion after the confusion of Babel as described in the ensuing chapter. Among “the sons of Sem” are mentioned Elam, who gave his name to the Elamites, the age-long enemies of the Babylonians, and Assur from whom probably the city of Assur (Ashur) and the land of Assyria were named.

THE TOWER OF BABEL. (11, 1–9).

A prominent feature of the city-states of ancient Babylonia, was the ziggurat or temple-tower, but one of these has an extraordinary history, and its erection provoked divine intervention : “And they said : “Come let us make a city and tower, the top whereof may reach to heaven, and let us make our name famous before (i.e., LEST) we be scattered abroad into all lands.” (11, 4). Their idea was not of climbing to heaven, but of thwarting that dispersion of the race which was decreed and formally commanded by God (in 9, 1). In the language of anthropomorphism God is described as preparing to frustrate their design. He “confounded their tongue,” i.e., confused their language so that they were compelled to disperse “from that place into all lands.” (11, 8). What the nature of that confusion was we are not told. It is simply stated that their common language was suddenly and (from the context) miraculously confused, so that they could “not understand one another’ s speech.” (41, 7).

“ABRAHAM . . . THE FRIEND OF GOD.” (St. James 2, 23).

At this juncture we have repeated, but this time summarily, the genealogy of Sem. (11, 10–27). Eight descendants are given in direct line, and the purpose clearly is to lead the narrative on to the ninth, viz.” Abraham, the Father of the Hebrew race, the greatest name and the grandest figure in Old Testament history. He holds the narrative from this point (11, 28) until 25, 10, and the history of Abraham and his heirs becomes the history of Revelation.

CHAPTER I

ABRAHAM-THE GREAT PATRIARCH, (Genesis 11, 27–14, 24).

Abram, as he is called until 17, 5, was the son of Thare, a lineal descendant of Sem. Two brothers of Abram are mentioned -Nachor and Aran; and Aran had a son named Lot.

“ And Aran died before Thare his father, in the land of his nativity in Ur of the Chaldees.” (11, 28). The Hebrew expression here translated ‘before’ means ‘before the face of,” i.e., in the presence of,’ and so adds to the idea of priority a poignant touch of tragedy. Thare with Abram, Sarai (Abram’s wife), and Lot whom T’hare seems to have adopted on Aran’s death removed from Chaldea “to go into the land of Chanaan, and they came as far as Haran and dwelt there.” (11, 31). Haran (or Charan) is thought to be in the northwest of Mesopotamia about six hundred miles from Ur. Why the journey was interrupted we are not told. Thare died in Caran at the age of two hundred and five years. It is Worthy of notice that the age of the Patriarchs has lessened steadily since Shem who lived six hundred years. (11, 10–11).

UR OF THE CHALDEES

The site of Ur in southern Babylonia or Chaldea has been identified as modern Mugheir, and thoroughly explored in recent times. And few places have yielded better archaeological results. . It was a famous city-state widely known among the Babylonians themselves, and the seat of the worship of Nannar-the moon-god. Three dynasties of kings had ruled in Ur between the Deluge and the third millenium B.C. It had reached a high peak of civilisation in Abraham’s time; it was a commercial and business centre; there was a developed architecture; it housed refinement, wealth and luxury. All this sheds no little light on ‘the vocation of Abraham.’ and the divine purpose in bidding him : Go forth out of thy country, and from thy kindred, and out of thy father’s house, and come into the land which I shall show thee.” (12, 1). Abraham left Haran when he was seventy-five years old, taking with him Sarai and Lot, his and their slaves and property, and went to Chanaan.

Chanaan is the old name of Palestine (the Holy Land). The name Palestine from Philistine, and was popularised by Herodotus and Josephus, the Greek and Jewish historians. Abraham, therefore, left civilisation to go a stranger into an undeveloped country, a well-appointed permanent home to become a nomad living in tents and subsisting precariously. Also while duly appreciating the help which science affords us we must not overlook the doctrinal and historical commentary which St. Paul provides : “By faith he that is called Abraham obeyed to go out into a place which he was to receive for an inheritance, and he went out not knowing whither he went. By faith he abode in the land dwelling in cottages (i.e., ‘tents’) . . .” (Hebrews 11, 8–9). In giving the command God promised Abram liberal, temporal and spiritual reward : “I will Make of thee a great, nation, and I will bless thee and magnify thy name . . . and IN THEE shall all the kindred (i.e., ‘nations’) of the earth be blessed (12, 2–3). Here is renewed and clarified the Messianic prophecy already twice recorded-after the Fall (3, 15), and to Sem (9, 27). .

CHANAAN AND EGYPT

Abram must have entered Chanaan at the north-east coming by way of Damascus. He then travelled southward by easy stages in nomad fashion to Sichem (modern Nablus), “as far as the noble vale” (12, 6)-an expression which should have been translated ‘the oak grove of Moreh. .’ Here God appeared in visible form to Abram and renewed the promise of the country to his posterity. From Sichem he went to Bethel, and thence to Negeb in the south. At this juncture a famine in the country forced him to go to Egypt, and here a singular incident occurred. Before they left Mesopotamia Abram had made an agreement with Sarai that she should pass as his sister-a word used in Hebrew in a wide sense for a near relation. This was the truth indeed-Sarai was in fact his niece (20,’ 12)-but not the whole truth. It was a time when polygamy was universally practised, and in Egypt especially the moral standard was very low. Abram’s purpose in making this mental reservation was to protect himself lest he might be murdered by someone eager to have Sarai in marriage. Sarai was a very beautiful woman, and the king of Egypt had her seized and taken to be his wife. “But the Lord scourged Pharao and his house with most grevious stripes . . .” (12, 17). Pharao then discovered the whole truth and promptly restored Sarai to her husband. In spite of the failure of the device on this occasion we find Abram employing it again at a later date against Abimelech, King of Gerara (20, 1–18), and with a precisely similar result.

The question now naturally suggests itself : did Abram act wrongly in this? Here the exegete has perforce to turn moralist, for the Scripture itself gives no reply. Father Hetzenauer quotes with approval Cornelius a Lapide who follows Saint Augustine in excusing Abram from sin, because : (a) Sarai was his ‘sister’ in the accepted sense, as Lot is called his ‘brother’ in 14, 16 and elsewhere; (b) he did not deny that she was his wife, he merely kept silence on the point; (c) he had a reasonable cause for this reticence, since his very life was threatened.

SEPARATION FROM LOT

Abram, Sarai and Lot with their retinue of slaves and their flocks and herds returned to Negeb. The journey to Egypt had increased their wealth, and the Patriarch is described at this point as being “very rich in possession. of gold and silver” (13, 2). They returned by the same route by which they had come until they reached their starting point, Bethel, again. The united flocks were now so numerous that contention arose between the herdsmen of Abram and Lot. Abram foresaw that he and his nephew would inevitably be drawn into these disputes; so he proposed that Lot and he should separate. In a very generous spirit he allowed to his nephew the choice of position : “Behold the whole land is before thee: depart from me I pray thee: if thou wilt go to the left hand I will take the right : if thou choose the right hand I will pass to the left.” (13, 9).

Lot took full advantage of the faculty granted him. He viewed the country carefully, and the fertile district of the Jordan valley decided his choice. This was before the destruction of the Pentapolis, and that region was then “as the Paradise of the Lord.” (13, 10). Lot, therefore, made Sodom his headquarters and pastured his flocks in the ‘Round of the Jordan.’ In the event his choice was an unhappy one. The inhabitants of these cities “were very wicked and sinners before the face of the Lord beyond Measure.” (13, 13). Lot soon had reason to regret the kind of’ his surroundings; in 2 Peter 2, 8, he is described as “dwelling among them, who from day to day vexed the just soul with unjust works.”

Thereafter Abram lived in the neighbourhood of Hebron, and he built “an altar to the Lord” in the oak grove of Mambre. At this time also he received another revelation -a renewal of the promise of the possssion of Chanaan by his numerous descendants. (13, 14–18).

THE INVASION OF THE PENTAPOLIS

An event which occurred after the departure of Lot shows Abram in a new role which he filled with courage and prudence. The kings of the Pentapolis had been under the necessity of paying an annual tribute to Chodorlahomor, King of Elam. For twelve years they endured this; then they revolted, and in the thirteenth year no tribute was paid. Promptly in the fourteenth year came the King of Elam to put down the revolt. He was supported by three allies, viz., Amraphel-King of Sennaar, Arioch-King of Pontus (i.e., Lana), and Thadal-King of the Guti or Kuti. (For Guti our version reads ‘of’ nations’). These kings with their united forces took their route from the direction of Damascus and went due south on the east of the river Jordan and the Dead Sea. They conquered the various peoples encountered on their march-the Raphaim, the Zuzim, the Emim. Pushing their conquest south to the edge of the desert of Pharan they turned eastward to Cades, thence northward, taking their course now on the western side of the Dead Sea and adding to their territory “all the country of the Amalecites, and the Amorrhean that dwelt in Asasonthamar” (modern Engaddi). (14, 7). The rebel kings of the five cities now advanced their united forces to meet the victors in the valley of Siddim (in our version ‘the woodland vale’). In this valley were “many pit’s of slime” (14, 10), i.e. ‘wells of bitumen,’ the presence of which proved disastrous to the weaker side in the conflict, to wit, the Pentapolis kings and their forces. These were utterly routed and the remnant who escaped slaughter fled eastward to the mountains of Moab. ‘To the victors the spoils’; and the eastern kings proceeded at once to plunder the defeated cities. They carried off all the booty they could bring; and, as was the manner of those times, they led away the inhabitants to be sold into slavery. Among the captives thus taken were Lot (Abram’s nephew) and his household.

THE REPRISAL

The account of the whole disaster was brought to Abram at Hebron by a fugitive. Abram had by this time made a league with Mambre and the latter’s two brothers. Escol and Aner. At once he selected three ‘hundred and eighteen of the bravest of his slaves, and to ensure their fidelity these were moreover “of the servants born in his house.” (14, 14). . With these, and supported by his new allies, he set out in pursuit of the eastern kings and unperceived came up with them at Dan (Laish). near the source of the, Jordan, where they. had halted-doubtless to rest and feast. Astutely Abram divided his forces and attacked the foe simultaneously from several points and under cover of the night. His plans carried perfectly; Chodorlahomor and his allies were taken completely by surprise and entirely routed, Abram pursued them, to Hoba north of Damascus, and thence returned home with the rescued captives and the recovered spoil. (14, 15–16).

MELCHISEDECH

The news of Abram’s victory must have preceded him because the defeated king of Sodom came to Salem (later Jerusalem) to meet him on the return journey. He was accompanied by the King of Salem, Melchisedech, an extraordinary figure who enters abruptly here, and as abruptly disappears again from the stage of Hebrew history. He is described as “the priest of the most high God” (14, 18), i.e., of the One True God. He brought “bread and wine” and since this is mentioned in close connection with his priesthood the bread and wine were obviously for the purpose of sacrifice. He blessed Abram and returned thanks to God for the victory he had obtained; and Abram in turn “gave him tithes of all,” (14, 20). i.e., a tenth of the spoil for divine worship.

This mysterious priest-king, Melchisedech, was a type of Christ Our Lord, Whom Psalm 109 (verses 4 and 5) calls “a priest forever according to the order of (i.e., after the manner of) Melchisedech.” The bread and wine which he sacrificed are symbolical of the sacrifice of the New Covenant : “The Messianic King . . . will not be an Aaronite priest offering bloody sacrifices, but, like Melchisedech, associated, with unbloody offerings.”

The points of resemblance between type and anti-type are developed in the Epistle to the Hebrews (Chapter 7). Melchisedech was King of Jerusalem, and Jerusalem in Scripture is frequently a type of the Church of Christ. The name Melchisedech means ‘king of justice’; Salem means ‘peace’; the Messias is likewise King of justice and peace. No mention is made in Scripture of the parentage or genealogy or birth or death of Melchisedech; this symbolises the eternal character of Christ’s Priesthood and Kingship. Abram (and through Abram his descendant Levi) paid tithes to Melchisedech as to a superior; hence the Priesthood of Christ which is after the manner of that of Melchisedech would be greater than that of Aaron.

The King of Sodom now came forward and offered Abram all the booty requesting only the return of the captives. Abram nobly refused to enrich himself in the least way from the expedition; but he stipulated that his allies should receive their share of the spoils. (14, 21–24).

CHAPTER 2.

ABRAHAM-”THE FATHER OF MANY NATIONS.”

The mention above of Amraphel, ally of Chodorlahomor, reminds us that now it is opportune to attempt to give these events their place in universal history. Some authors have identified this Amraphel with the famous Hammurabi (spelled also Hamnizirapi and Khammurabi) of the Babylonian monuments, and then sought to establish a chronology from Babylonian history. The identification of the names, however, is not universally accepted,) and moreover the confidence with which authors. spoke of the date of Hammurabi’s reign in Babylon has been shaken in recent years.* Hence the results sometimes claimed for this method are gravely exaggerated. The same is true of that other method of correlating data from Egyptian chronology with events recorded in the- Book of Exodus. Something approaching probability, however, may be had by working backwards from the date of the foundation of the Temple of Jerusalem in the fourth year of King Solomon’s reign. Authors are fairly agreed on placing this in 969 B.C. From 3 Kings 6, 1, we know that this was 480 years after the Exodus. Adding 430 years (Exodus 12, 40) for the sojourn of the Hebrews in Egypt; 130 years since the birth of Jacob (47, 28); 60 years since the birth of Isaac (25, 26); 100 years -the age of Abraham when Isaac was born (21, 5); we have 2169–1994 B.C. as the dates of the life of Abraham. And emphatically these are the first dates in the Bible which can be determined even approximately.

Independently of the identification of Amraphel with Hammurabi, however, science corroborates the truth of the Elamite invasion of Palestine above. About 2330 B.C. the Sumerian empire was conquered by the Elamites and Amorhites in combination, “and the control of Mesopotamia passed into the hands of the Semitic dynasties of Isin, Larsa and Babylon.”

THE DIVINE CONTRACT

Another revelation, this time “by a vision,” was given to Abram confirming the promise of Chanaan and containing in addition definite promise of posterity : “Fear not, Abram, I am thy protector (literally-’shield’), and thy reward (shall be) exceeding great.” (15, 1). . Pathetically Abram remonstrated that he had no heir and that his possessions would soon pass to a stranger : “the son of the steward (literally-’the son of the possession,’ i.e., ‘the heir’) of my household is this Damascus Eliezer.” (15, 2). Ellezer, a native of Damascus, was the chief of Abram’s slaves, and in the ordinary course of events would be his heir if he died ) childless. God assured him at once and with emphasis that this would not be so; a son would be born to Abram and Sarai; and his descendants would be innumerable. Then Abram elicited that great act of faith which shows the profoundly religious character of him who became “heir of the world” (Romans 4, 13) because of his faith : “Abram believed God and it was reputed to him unto justice.” (15: 6). Abram requested a visible sign of this, and his request was granted. He was directed to kill three animals and two birds. The animals were then divided each into two parts and these parts placed one opposite the other with a space between. The birds were not divided, but probably were placed one opposite the other. Abram guarded the carcases from birds of prey all day until sunset, when “a deep sleep-fell upon Abram, and a great and darksome horror seized him.” (15, 12). Then again ‘in a vision it was revealed to him that his descendants would be strangers in Egypt and that after a long period of suffering there (symbolised by the darksome horror above) they would return and take possession of Chanaan. “And there arose a dark mist, and there appeared a smoking furnace (i.e., ‘a thick smoke’) and a lamp of fire passing between those divisions.” (15, 17). The smoke and fire were symbolic of the presence of God; their passing between the divided victims was the solemn sanction of the contract with the ritual employed by men making covenants in those days.

AGAR AND ISMAEL

The fulfilment of the promise of a son was delayed; and in her chagrin Sarai made the strange proposal to Abram that he should take Agar, an Egyptian slave of Sarai, as a wife of inferior degree. The patriarch did so. Of course this was contrary to the unity of matrimony-a contract between one man and one woman, terminated only by the death of one or the other-as decreed at the creation and restored by the Christian law. (St. Matthew 19, 4–6). This raises the question of the polygamy of the patriarchs. All we know with certainty is that Abraham was a just man, and “the friend of God” (St. James 2, 23) in spite of this fact. The same is true of Jacob at a later date. Consequently it is clear that they could not have acted contrary to the unity of matrimony unless a special exemption were given them by God. How the exemption from this law was given-by formal divine intervention, or by divine toleration of contrary custom followed in good faith-is simply not stated. A glimmer of light on the circumstance of the choice of Agar comes from Babylonian archaeology.

The laws of Hammurabi legislate for just such a case : if a wife give her maid to her husband and the maid bear children she can no longer be sold for money but must be retained in the household. That such ciiildren would be adopted by a childless wife and regarded as hers we know from the case of Rachel later. (30, 3).

DOMESTIC DISCORD

But the harmony of the patriarchal home was now disturbed. Agar, finding herself with child, despised her mistress Sarai, who complained to Abram. The latter reminded her that Agar was her slave and refused to interfere in the women’s quarrel. Now “Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned”-Sarai retaliated, and so harshly that Agar fled the scene and set out to return to her native Egypt. On the way as she waited to rest at a well in an oasis in the wilderness an angel appeared to her and commanded her : “Return to thy mistress and humble thyself under her hand.” (16, 9). The angel then promised Agar that she would give birth to a son; that he would be called Ismael (‘God heareth’ in Hebrew); so named because “the Lord had heard Agar’s affliction”; that he would be “a wild man” (16, 12),. i.e., living in the desert. leading a nomad life, scorning cities and the haunts of men; that his hand “would be against all men, and all men’s hands against him” (16, 12) and finally that he would dwell to the east of Chanaan. Agar then returned to her mistress, and Ismael was born when Abram was eighty-six years old.

THE COVENANT OF CIRCUMCISION

Thirteen years after the above events Abram received another revelation. The promise of numerous posterity was renewed; and in token of this God commanded that he be no longer called Abram (the great father’ in Hebrew) as heretofore, but Abraham (‘the father of many nations’). Next God made with Abraham the covenant of circumcision- the completion and renewal of the covenant already existing. On His side God promised Abraham descendants, the possession of Chanaan, and the spiritual favours which these things typified, as well as His special Providence protecting and guiding Abraham and his people : “ I will be their God.” (17, 8). On the other side Abraham undertook for himself and his successors to worship God, to accept and preserve His revelation, and to obey His laws. To show acceptance of this contract Abraham and all his male descendants, and even the males among Abraham’s slaves were to be circumcised. In the future the eighth day after. birth was prescribed for this-a circumstance alluded to by St. Paul in Philippians 3, 5.

CIRCUMCISION

Circumcision is known nowadays in these Countries as a surgical operation undergone for reasons of physical health. Many authorities on ancient history claim that it was in vogue in Egypt long before the time of Abraham. In tropical countries it is often necessary for hygienic reasons as a preventive of anthrax; but many maintain that in ancient Egypt it had a religious significance primarily. Whatever be the truth of this, among the Hebrews at least circumcision had to do with religion from the first, and its appointment as a religious ritual was revealed to Abraham. Similarly baptism existed already as a religious rite before it was taken over by Our Lord and made a Sacrament of’ the New Law.

The legal effect of circumcision under the Old Law was the admission of the individual to the covenant established between God and Abraham, and thus the restoration as far as was possible before the Redemption of the order and harmony which had been disturbed by the Fall. The prophet Osee (6, 7) speaks of Adam as having “transgressed the covenant.” By means of this rite, then, the individual was co-opted into the family of Abraham (17, 10–12); failure to submit to circumcision excluded from the privileges of the covenant even those who were by birth descended from the patriarch. Again, the circumcised person took upon himself the obligation of observing “the whole (Old Testament) law.” (Galatians 5, 3). Circumcision must be reckoned among the “weak and needy elements” (Galatians 4, 9) of the Old Testament worship. But did it, or did it not remit original sin? That is the point of real interest. St. Thomas Aquinas replies in the affirmative; and this seems. very reasonable for a covenant implies friendship, and sin excludes grace which is requisite for the friendship of God. But, St. Thomas explains, circumcision remitted original sin otherwise than does the Christian Sacrament of Baptism. “In Baptism grace is conferred by virtue of the Baptism itself which it has in so far as it is an instrument of the Passion of Christ which latter is now an accomplished fact. In circumcision grace was conferred not by virtue of circumcision but by virtue of faith in the Passion of Christ, of which (faith) circumcision is a sign.”

ISAAC -THE CHILD OF PROMISE

In this revelation God further promised that Sarai, though now ninety years old, should give birth to a son after a year. From this son-to be named Isaac-nations and kings would descend, and hence her name by divine command was changed from Sarai to be in future. Sara (‘princess’). With true paternal instinct Abraham remembered Ismael and prayed for him : “O that Ismael may live before thee:” (17, 18), and for Abraham’s prayer God promised to bless Ismael; and He assured Abraham that Ismael would be the founder of a great people. Directly this revelation was ended Abraham and Ismael and all the males of Abraham’s household were circumcised. (17, 15–27).

“ . . . SOME, BEING NOT AWARE OF IT, HAVE ENTERTAINED ANGELS.” (Hebrews 13, 2).

A delightful and detailed description is given in Genesis 18, 1–16 of the manner in which Abraham gave hospitality to three strangers who at this time appeared one day at noon before him as he sat outside his tent in the oak-grove ,of Mambre.

Hospitality has ever been the virtue of the Orient, and the pen-picture so ingenuously drawn here accords perfectly with modern conditions in the East and illustrates many a reference to the theme of the care of guests in the Old and New Testaments.

Abraham, looking up from where he was seated, saw the three strangers “standing before his tent” -the eastern convention for requesting hospitality. At once he rose, ran to meet them, and prostrated himself before them. . He entreated them not to pass by his dwelling without resting and refreshing themselves. He offered to fetch them water and wash their feet (always the first courtesy to a traveller on foot in the East where sand and dust irritate and tire the sandalled feet), and to provide them with food. They signified acceptance of his offer. Abraham hurried to bid his wife provide bread. Then he selected a young calf from his herd, sent a slave to kill and prepare it for eating, and procured butter and milk; and soon a generous meal was set before the travellers, whom their host seated beneath a tree in the open within easy distance of his tent.

When they had finished their meal in the presence of Abraham who stood in personal attendance on them the leader of the three guests spoke to him and revealed himself to be no other than God in human form. His companions were two angels. Again was made the promise of a son to Sara, this time in the hearing of Sara herself who at first was incredulous of the truth of the announcement until she realised the divine authority behind it.

THE PRAYER OF FAITH. (18, 16–33).

The celestial guests now prepared to take their leave, and as oriental courtesy demanded their host accompanied them portion of their journey to show his unwillingness to miss their company. They took the direction of Sodom, the chief city of the Pentapolis.; and on the way God revealed to Abraham that these cities were about to be destroyed because the wickedness of the inhabitants had challenged His divine justice. Then Abraham made bold to intercede for the doomed cities. He implored God “not to slay the just with the wicked.” What if there were fifty just men there, would He not spare the cities out of consideration for these? God heard this prayer. Then Abraham went further still in his advocacy of the wicked cities : “Seeing I have once begun I will speak to my Lord, whereas I am dust and ashes.” (18, 27). He then pleaded-bargained as it were- on the supposition of forty-five just men being found there; then thirty; then twenty; and finally ten. Each time God granted his prayer; if ten just men be found in the compass of the Pentapolis the divine decree will be revoked.

In the sequel (as we shall see directly) the stipulation made by Abraham was not fulfilled. The divine chastisement came; but if there had been even ten just men in those wretched cities then their destruction would have been averted by reason of the humble and confident prayer of “faithful Abraham.”

CHAPTER 3.

EL KHALIL-”THE, FRIEND (OF GOD).”

“ And the two angels came to Sodom in the evening . . .” (19. 1). Abraham had entertained three guests, so from this text St. Ambrose very reasonably concludes that the third guest of Abraham was God in human form. The description of the hospitality proffered by Abraham is here repeated substantially, but with some little differences of circumstance. The travellers encountered Lot as he “was sitting in the gate of the city” (19, 1); he went forward to meet them using the same ceremonial as Abraham had used, but since it was evening he added an offer of lodging for the night. At first they refused-a purely formal refusal demanded by eastern convention. Lot persisted in his offer : they yielded to his importunity; he brought them to his house and “made them a feast . . .” (19, 3).

SEGOR

The angels told Lot of the impending catastrophe, and bade him warn his friends to make good their escape promptly from that city. Lot advised the two men who were to marry his daughters of what he had heard, but they refused to give him credence. In the morning the angels urged him to take his wife and two daughters with him and depart at once. He was loath to go, and they literally dragged him and the three women away. When they were outside the fugitives were commanded not to look back, and not to stay in the neighbourhood, but to flee to the mountains- and this under pain of death. Terrified of not being able to reach the mountains Lot asked that the smallest city of the Pentapolis, Bala, be spared so that he might take refuge there, pleading that it was a little city. His request was granted, and the city was known ever after as Segor. (Se’or-little’) from this circumstance.

DESTRUCTION OF THE FOUR CITIES

“And the Lord rained upon Sodom and Gomorrha brimstone (i.e., ‘sulphur’) and fire from heaven. And he destroyed these cities, and all the country round about, all the inhaitants of the cities, and all things that spring from the earth.” (19, 24–25). Such is the biblical description of the demolition of the Pentapolis. Only Sodom and Gomorrha are named, but this because they were the most important. It is implied here and expressly stated in Deuteronomy 29, 22 that Adama and Seboim shared the same fate: Another detail is added later when we are told that Abraham, viewing the scene from a distance, “saw the ashes rise up from the earth as the smoke of a furnace.” (19, 28).

Small wonder that this astounding event, so graphically described here, so frequently referred to in later books of the Bible, so vividly commemorated in the desolate environs of the Dead Sea. should have stirred curiosity and raised speculation in every age. In recent times science has been able to guide our speculation, at least to some extent. First of all, history closely searched has revealed that there were two different traditions as to the site of the Pentapolis-the one (the more ancient) locating it at the northern end of the Dead Sea; the other (the more popular in modern times) placing it at the southern end. Recently attention has been called to the ‘northern’ tradition by Rev. Edmund Power. S.J. He makes a strong case for it, arguing from archaeology, sacred and profane history, and tradition. The biblical arguments are of greatest interest to us here; he supports his thesis (a) from the route taken by Chodorlahomor and his allies (14, 5–8),-they went east, south, and west of the Dead Sea before attacking the Pentapolis; and (b) from the fact that Abraham, looking from Hebron was able to see the signs of the cataclysm in the distance (19, 28),-this is possible, he argues, only on the supposition of the ‘northern’ tradition.

As to the manner in which the ruin of the cities was brought about-geology has definitely ruled out the theory that the Dead Sea was caused by the miracle which destroyed the cities of the Plain. The Dead Sea .owes its existence to tectonic movements on a large scale which formed its bed and blocked its natural outlet towards the south through Wadi el Arabah on to the Gulf of Akabah. But these movements had place long before the time of Abraham, and as early as the miocene epoch according to some. After this we have only the slender account quoted above from Genesis. and the speculation of commentators. Philo, the Alexandrian Jew, speaks of “a rain of fire” (De Abramo, 28). This clearly is a literal, indeed a wooden, acceptation of the biblical text, and it finds little favour from modern scholars. One explanation is that an earthquake released the gases which that bituminous region would naturally hold; and these gases, ignited by “fire from heaven,” i.e., by lightning, caused a conflagration which totally deleted the cities. t

“REMEMBER LOT’S WIFE.” (St. Luke 17, 32).

When leaving the scene of the catastrophe Lot’s wife was so possessed by curiosity that she neglected the injunction of the angels and paused in her flight to look back. This proved her undoing. Before she realised her danger the sulphurous fumes had blinded and prostrated her. In a short time the salt which abounds in the neighbourhood of the Dead Sea had completely covered her corpse : “And his (Lot’s) wife looking behind her was turned into a statue of salt.” (19, 26); the Hebrew reads “was a pillar of salt.”

Lot was afraid to remain in Segor, and after a short time he betook himself to the mountainous region of Moab, where with his two daughters he found shelter in a cave.

ISAAC -THE CHILD OF JOY

The questions bearing on the cities of the Plain disposed of, we have surmounted the last difficulty of this kind, and for the remainder the story of Abraham runs a smooth course through truly idyllic scenery. He left Hebron and the Hittites for a time, and went to Gerara. He maintained excellent relations with the inhabitants, with whom he entered into a formal alliance at Bersabee, whence the name -’the well of oath.’ Here too Isaac was born, to the great joy of his parents who had so long awaited the fruition of the divine promise.

Abraham, following eastern custom again, “made a great feast on the day of his (Isaac’s) weaning” (21, 28); but the joy occasioned by this event soon gave way to sorrow. Ismael was now about sixteen years old, and trouble began again on his account “When Sara had seen the son of Agar the Egyptian playing with her son, she said to Abraham:: Cast out this bond-woman. and her son . . .” (21, 9–10). This becomes more intelligible from Galatians 4, 29, where we read that Ismael persecuted Isaac, and the word which is translated ‘playing with’ in our version of Genesis can have this meaning. At first the patriarch was unwilling to send away Agar and Ismael, but God commanded him to do as Sara had said; and so he gave bread and water to Agar for a journey and dismissed her and her son. They went southward and lived in the desert of Pharan; and in due time Agar chose a wife from her own (Egyptian) nation for Ismael.

THE SACRIFICE OF ISAAC

When Isaac was now a grown boy God put Abraham to a tremendous test; and in the issue of this test especially Abraham is shown to be truly ‘the man of unwavering faith.’ God ordered him to take his beloved Isaac with him “into the land of vision” i.e., ‘the land of Moriah,’ and there to offer him in sacrifice as a holocaust or whole-burnt victim.Rightly to understand this command it must be remembered that human sacrifice was a stark reality and of frequent occurrence among the heathen nations of this very period. Unmistakable evidences of’ it have been found in the excavations conducted at Gezer, in the very country where Abraham lived. This fact made the command less astounding for Abraham; but all the more poignant must have been the trial since, while he knew the meaning of it, he did not know the melodramatic ending as we do. It was truly a great act of virtue for him that he set about obeying the command at once. He had the wood for the sacrificial fire procured and loaded on a donkey; and with two attendant servants and the boy Isaac, he set out for the appointed place-a journey of three days. Leaving the slaves and the ass at a distance from the mountain he took the wood and placed it on the shoulders of Isaac; and together they ascended the hill. There he built an altar, “laid the wood’ in order, upon it” (22. 9), bound Isaac hand and foot, and was just about to strike the blow when an angel stayed his hand. God did not require the act but the readiness on the part of Abraham to acknowledge Him as supreme Lord and Arbiter of life, and to prefer the divine Will to any human sentiment of interest. Moreover, this event was a dramatic foreshadowing of that other when the Son of God would ascend another hill near Moriah, viz., the hill of Calvary, bearing on His own shoulders the instrument of crucifixion, and this time in effect would offer His life for the Redemption of the world.

Abraham saw a ram caught by its horns in the brambles,. near him, and this he offered in sacrifice on the altar which he had prepared. Then he returned home with Isaac.

DEATH OF SARA. (23, 1–20).

At the age of a hundred and twenty-seven years Sara, the wife of Abraham, died in Cariatharbe (an old name for. Hebron). Abraham mourned her death after the oriental fashion; then having paid his tribute of sorrow he set about procuring a burial place for her remains. The Hebrews were always particular about their graves, and consistently abhorred cremation of the dead. He was only a nomad in the country and owned no land, so he went to “the children of’ Heth,” i.e., the Hittites, who were his neighbours to obtain their influence with one Ephron, son of Seor, who had a field with a cave in it, which latter would suit for a tomb. Armed with this introduction from Ephron’s fellow tribesmen Abraham went to the owner of this cave of Machpelah, and bean to bargain for its purchase. The whole transaction is described at some length, and it follows the lines to be expected. When negotiations have been opened by intermediaries known to both parties in the projected contract the owner comes forward with numerous courtesies and protestations of good will; he will give the cave willingly, by all means let Abraham bury his dead in that cave; there is no question of payment, forsooth. After protracted speeches in this strain Abraham, who knows these methods well, finally succeeds in bringing Ephron to name his price-four hundred silver shekels-an utterly exorbitant sum. And again the seller pretends to scorn the question of “filthy lucre” at all in the circumstances: “ but what is this? Bury thy dead.” (23, 15). Then Abraham weighs out the price, and the contract is concluded with all the necessary legal formalities, everything being duly accounted for in the deed, and the whole agreement ratified by the presence of witnesses.

Here then in the cave of Machpelah Sara was buried. and this cave was later to receive the remains of the great patriarch himself, of his son Isaac, of Rebecca (wife of Isaac), and of Jacob (son of Isaac) who was brought back from Egypt to be buried with his ancestors in the city of Hebron. (49, 29–31).

MARRIAGE OF ISAAC. (24, 1–67).

In a lengthy chapter of no ordinary literary interest we are told how a bride was sought and found for Isaac. Pathetically it begins : “Abraham’ was old; and advanced in age.” (24, 1). He wished, therefore, to secure an honourable matrimonial alliance for his loved son and heir before death should claim him. He called to him “the elder servant of his house, and sent him to Mesopotamia to seek there a wife from among his kindred, for Abraham would not have Isaac marry a Chanaanite nor would he allow him to return to Mesopotamia since God had ordered himself to quit his native country finally. The servant set out at the head of a retinue, bringing ten camels laden with his master’s goods to impress those concerned, and assured by Abraham of divine guidance. The servant was worthy of his master; he carried through his mission promptly and prudently. He went direct, (probably via Damascus) to Baran where lived Naxlier, Abraham’s brother. Arriving in the afternoon he halted outside the town at the well whither he knew the women, old and young, would come to fetch water at that hour. Commending his enterprise to God he prayed that the maiden who would allow him to drink from her pitcher, and then offer to draw water for his camels might be the wife designed by God for his master’s son.

His prayer was scarcely ended when Rebecca, daughter of Bathuel and grand-daughter of Nachor, came to the well. He asked her for a drink, and she gave it to him at once and offered to fill the trough for his camels. He then gave her presents of gold ornaments; and when he enquired where he could lodge for the night she went forward to find place for him in her father’s house. Laban, Rebecca’s brother, now came on ‘the scene, and Abraham’s ambassador was received to hospitality. The latter, however, refused to touch food until he had first concluded his business. . The marriage was arranged forthwith; and a banquet was held to honour the event.

Next morning. Abraham’s servant was astir betimes, and he proposed to return at once. The relatives of Rebecca demurred and requested a delay of at least ten days. The matter was referred for decision to Rebecca; and with that strength of mind which was to display itself again later she decided to set out at once, and her decision determined the question for all. She left her home to go to Hebron bringing the good wishes of her family and accompanied by a number of her own personal servants. Special mention is made of the fact that her nurse (named Debora as we know from 35, 8, where her death is commemorated) accompanied Rebecca lo her new home, This is one of those homely touches of detail which make the narrative of Genesis so very colourful and realistic.

Isaac married Rebecca with the happiest results. “And he loved her so much, that it moderated the sorrow caused by his mother’s death.’’ (24, 67). That last sentence with its simple expression of a beautiful idea is one of the jewels of all literature.

ABRAHAM DIES

After Sara’s death Abraham married another wife, Cetura, by whom he had six sons. But Isaac, “the child of promise,” was the heir. Before his death Abraham gave gifts to those other morganatic children and sent them away eastward. The description of the great patriarch’s death had better be read from Genesis; “And the days of Abraham’s life were a hundred and seventy-five years. And decaying he died in a good old age, and having lived a long time, and being full of days; and was gathered to his people.” (25, 7–8). A simple but eloquent description, which cornmentary would only spoil.

It is of interest to read that Ismael, the child of the bondwoman Agar, came from the desert to be present at the obsequies of his father. to join in the mourning for him, and to assist the more favoured Isaac in laying the remains of “the father of all them that believe” (Romans 4, 11) in their resting place in the cave of Machpelah which he himself had purchased from the Hittite for a tomb for Sara.

Jewish theology spoke of the departed souls of the just as being “in the bosom of Abraham,” i.e., ‘in the company of Abraham’ and the expression has the sanction of Our Divine Lord Himself. (St. Luke 16, 23). The city of Hebron is known in the East generally as EL KHALIL (‘The Friend’ in Arabic), because of its intimate connection with Abraham whom the Orientals, call EL KHALIL because he is so often styled in Holy Seripture “the friend of God. .”

CONCLUSION

1. The history of Abraham abounds in miraculous events. It was fashionable at one time for unbelievers to deny the veracity of this narrative; the tendency in our day is rather to disregard these events and the narrative of them, to act as if God had never spoken and revealed His will to mankind. But this narrative is an historical document; no amount of criticism could brush it aside; and the attempt was a failure. It is still less becoming for intelligent beings to assume an attitude of indifference towards it. Side by side with the extraordinary events narrated in these chapters we have that astounding fact of history-the religion of Israel. An insignificant nation, with no material culture, always menaced by powerful neighbouring empires, the Hebrews yet managed to reach a pure religion, belief in One Only God, and to give the world religious ideas and aspirations which will endure forever. The only literature which they produced was their religious literature; and it is unique. “It is one of the standing mysteries of human history.”

This fact demands explanation, and the only adequate explanation is that given in Genesis, viz., that God chose this people and favoured them with His revealed truth. This revelation has a claim on the attention of every intelligent human being.

2. “Abraham believed God, and it was reputed to him unto justice.” (Romans 4, 3). Saint Paul here quotes from Genesis 15, 6. In this and in several other scriptural passages Abraham is praised for his faith. This text St. Paul proceeds to explain in Romans 4, 3–25. It is an important text because it has the first reference in the Bible to the virtue of faith. And the Apostle’s explanation is equally important because it is inspired and therefore authentic. Faith is a necessary condition for salvation. True supernatural holiness begins from the acknowledgment by the individual of the absolute dominion, power, goodness, and veracity of God. Abraham accepted God’s word because of the authority of God who spoke it. Again, this faith of Abraham included hope and charity, and in charity is included obedience to God’s law and resignation to God’s will. Finally, Abraham “against hope believed in hope”; that he might be made the father of many nations, according to that which was said to him: So shall thy seed be.” (Romans 4, 18). The object of Abraham’s hope was the posterity which God promised him, posterity both carnal and spiritual. Thus, his faith included, at least implicitly, the hope of the Redeemer to come and the whole divine plan of Redemption through Christ.

3. Abraham’s faith “was reputed to him unto justice,”- in the Hebrew ‘He (God) accounted his faith to him for justice.’ It was supernatural faith, therefore. He was justified by grace and gratis. “God looked so graciously on the faith of Abraham, and accepted it so benevolently, and estimated it so highly, that, out of pure graciousness and favour He reckoned it to Abraham as true justice and holiness.” Justification, St. Paul explains, is not given as a wage or an equivalent; it is a free gift of God; hence the word grace connected with gratis.

4. Finally, St. Paul states that Abraham was justified by faith and not by works. (Romans 4, 2–4); St. James asserts that Abraham was justified by works. (Epistle of St. James 2, 24). There is no contradiction here. The difference of statement is explained by the different context in each Epistle. St. Paul is arguing against the Judaising heretics who wished to impose on Christians the works of the Old Law such as circumcision; the Old Law is abrogated and replaced by the Gospel. St. James is inveighing against the lack of good works among Christians who profess the Gospel but will not observe its precepts; their faith is dead and inert. For St. Paul as for St. James faith is of no avail without charity; charity means love of God and love of our neighbour, and this love must find outlet in those good works which are commanded by the law of Christianity.

Nihil Obstat:

FATHER PETRUS, O.M.Cap., M.A., Ph.D., D.Litt. Censor Theol. Deput. Imprimi Potest :

FR. JACOBUS, O.M.Cap., -Minister Provincialis,

St. Bonaventure’s, Cork.

Corcagiae die 25 Mai, 1946.

Nihil Obstat :

RECCAREDUS FLEMING, Censor Theol. Deput.

Imprimi Potest:

@ JOANNES CAROLUS. Archiep. Dublinen.,

Hiberniae Primas. die 21 Sept., anno 1945.

********

Acceptance of Sufferings

FROM THE BOOK ‘THE GREAT REDEEMER’

BY THE VERY REV. THAMER TOTH

PROFESSOR, UNIVERSITY OF BUDAPEST

TRANSLATED BY V.G. AGOTAI

EDITED BY REV. NEWTON THOMSON, S.T.D

INDEX

THE name of St. John Chrysostom, the most eminent orator in the history of the Catholic Church, is surely well known to you. This saintly bishop was great when he preached, great when he wrote, great when he ruled over his followers as bishop. But do you know when he was greatest of all? When he suffered.

By the unsearchable will of divine Providence, he received an exceedingly great measure of suffering. Empress Eudoxia, whose vanity he had offended, sent him into exile; and the world-famous aged bishop had to walk on foot in the most terrible heat through Bithynia, Persia, Cappadocia, and Cilicia, the whole long way to Cucusus. On the entire journey he was irregularly nourished and was tormented by headache, by a disorder of the stomach, and by fever. We can scarcely imagine how he must have suffered during the seventy days of that journey on foot, until he arrived at his place of exile.

Yet here a further trial awaited him. He found himself in a wretched mountain citadel, where he suffered untold misery from the winter cold. Later on robbers attacked the fort, and the inhabitants, in making their escape, dragged him with them to Arabissus. Thence a new imperial command ordered him still farther away, to a remote and desolate place, Pithyus lying at the foot of the Caucasus, on the northeast end of the Black Sea. Again a bitterly hard journey on foot was made with an escort of merciless soldiers. The burning sun caused the aged bishop torturing headache; in vain he asked to be allowed to rest a little in the shade. His body, weakened by fever, was drenched to the skin in pouring rain. But the soldiers drove him on without halting.

Then he knew the object they had in view. With unsurpassed heroism he dragged himself forward day by day, week by week. At last he could go no farther. He collapsed on the highway, his pulse became intermittent, his breath came in gasps. He was carried into a house. After a few weak breaths, he opened his eyes once more, lifted them to heaven, and spoke again, for the last time. These were his last words

and for their sake I have recounted the whole occurrence “God be praised for everything.” With these words, he died.

Let us picture the scene. Christianity’s greatest orator, its illustrious bishop, its ecclesiastical writer, is exiled to a great distance in a foreign land because of his courageous defense of Christian morals. When, after months and years of cruel suffering, there among his enemies on a remote highway, forsaken by everyone, he collapses, these are his last words: “God be praised for everything.” How far we are from that truly Christian frame of mind! We have not that holy conviction which sees, behind all the trouble and suffering which falls so heavily upon us, the face of the heavenly Father who loves us and enables us to say the words worthy of a Christian: “God be praised for everything.”

Let us now turn our attention to the following questions: In what frame of mind should we accept suffering, and how can we acquire this frame of mind?

I

OUR FRAME OF MIND

A) Undoubtedly suffering is one of the most difficult problems of our earthly existence. Since the gates of Paradise closed behind sinful man, we have walked the thorny highway of suffering and have carried the heavy yoke which is upon the children of Adam. a) No age, no sex, no position or power, no social class, is able to close its doors to suffering. It has access to povertystricken huts, and it steals its way into marble palaces. It is at home with primitive peoples, and it cannot be driven out by the most highly developed technology or culture.

From the lips of millions of groaning, weeping, struggling people comes the cry: Suffering, what do you want? Why do you not leave us in peace, us poor struggling human beings? There will always be suffering on this earth. However knowledge and technology progress, however we strive to make life more bearable by social measures, we shall always have with us trouble, illness, disaster, and death. And we, who bear the cross of earthly life, will always need the divine example of the great Cross-bearer. b) A German proverb admonishes sufferers thus: “If you cannot avoid suffering, at least do not trouble about it.” Yes, indeed. But try; and see whether this advice will succeed. Even if it does succeed, is this a reply worthy of man to our thousand and one tormenting griefs? In this way the question of suffering would remain forever unsolved, as it is an insoluble problem for all those who possess no Christ. But for those who possess Him, the life of Christ a life in which suffering became of central significance

is reply and guide in the great labyrinths of suffering.

B) We have now arrived at the great question: What is the correct Christian behavior in face of suffering? We find the answer in the case of Simon of Cyrene. a) Simon of Cyrene, a simple workingman, comes unsuspectingly along the road on his way home from the fields. Christ, condemned to death, comes toward him, bearing the cross. But He is able to carry it no farther. The soldiers call to Simon: “Help Him.” Simon tries to escape from the cross. He protests. It is of no avail: they force him. Then what else can he do: he accepts the cross. When the cross is already do his shoulders, he protests no more, but carries it willingly, without complaining. He did not seek the cross: but when, during his daily work, he found himself confronted with it, he did not throw aside the burden forced upon him.

Do we need to seek suffering? No. Are we allowed to escape from suffering? May we avoid it, draw back from it? We may. But if the Lord God still sees fit to let affliction overtake us, then we must not rebel against it.

Consolation and instruction lie hidden for us in Simon’s history. In God’s sight it is meritorious for us to bear the affliction which we ourselves have not sought or welcomed, but which

even against our will

is brought upon us by illness and the various disturbing influences in human life. With resignation to God’s will, let us accept what we cannot avoid.

We may note, in passing, that bodily recovery from disease is helped by this calm attitude. Today we see more and more plainly that the soul has a much greater influence over the body than was surmised in former times. The more docile the soul is toward God, the more docile is the body toward the soul.

It is no small consolation for us, that God recognizes as meritorious not only the heroic degree of sacrifice, suffering voluntarily undertaken, but also the sacrifices forced upon us by everyday life. Perhaps no one among us could imitate the Apostle St. Andrew, who did not try to escape the cross, but at his execution opened wide his arms and cried out: “O blessed cross, thou wast adorned with the body of Christ. O cross, for which I have yearned so long, which I love so eagerly, which I have sought ceaselessly, and for which my yearning soul is at last prepared.” Who could imitate this? Or who would dare to say with St. Teresa: “Either to suffer, or to die”?

Such superhuman heroism really exists. But I am weak. I am frail. I draw back from suffering, as Simon of Cyrene did. Yet I can also be courageous, suffering can also bring merit to me, if I follow Christ’s example. How well our Lord knew us, when He willed to suffer in this way! At first He, too, was afraid, and trembled: “He began to fear and to be heavy” (Mark 14: 33); in His fear He sweated blood and cried out: “My Father, if it be possible, let this chalice pass from Me” (Matt. 26:39). “Let this chalice pass from Me.” Then the Lord surely thought of us, of all of us, who are accustomed to say: “No, no, Lord, not this calamity. Spare me this.”

We are permitted to ask God: “Let this chalice pass from me.” If, however, the blow falls upon us, let us be able to bow our heads, kiss God’s hand, and say: “Nevertheless, not as I will but as Thou wilt (Matt. 26: 39); Thy will be done.” b) The scene of Simon carrying the cross is usually immortalized in works of art by representing Christ and Simon carrying the cross together. However, in the Passion Play at Oberammergau, Simon carries it alone.

Both ways of bearing the cross enter into our lives. Sometimes we feel that we are carrying life’s cross together with Christ, and then we bear it happily and easily, because we know, we feel, that Christ is helping us, that half of the cross presses upon His shoulder. Sometimes, however, dark night falls upon us, when it seems that Christ has left the cross entirely upon our shoulders; it almost crushes us on the starless pathway of grief. This is the most tormenting hour: when we bear the cross and do not feel its meritorious power. c) “Yes, yes,” you say, “Simon carried the cross gladly because, by doing so, he helped Christ in His suffering. I would also bear my troubles more happily if I knew that I was in this way soothing Christ’s pain. But Christ is no longer here in this earthly life. He can suffer no longer. He shed tears at one time, but today in His heavenly glory He can no longer weep. How can it be for His consolation, what is it worth to Him, if today I accept suffering?”

What is it worth? It is worth just as much as if you had stood beside Simon and helped him carry the cross. Christ’s sufferings were caused not only by the sins that men committed before His time; but He saw beforehand all the sins of coming generations. All these sins were there upon His shoulders; our sins were also there. In the same way Christ saw all our future self-discipline, our renunciations, and our sufferings borne in His name, and all this served as consolation and strength for Him. St. Paul describes Christ, in the realm of heaven, as showing in God’s presence the wounds He took upon Himself to obtain the pardon of our sins. Certainly He kept not only the wounds but also the consolations, in which

because of His all-knowing foresight

He participated and which He received from us.

Therefore whoever bears his cross silently, without complaint, with generosity, truly lightens the burden of Christ’s cross. And this is the very finest Christian way of thinking, this is true Christian behavior, this is a profound Christian frame of mind in face of the torturing problem of suffering:

We bear our own cross, that by so doing Christ’s cross may be lighter.

II

HOW TO GAIN THIS FRAME OF MIND

We now come to the great question: How can we succeed in struggling up to such life-giving heights? Whence can we gain this frame of mind?

A) From nowhere except from the sacred cross of our Lord Jesus Christ. A few years ago a touching sketch was exhibited in Paris. In it the Basque artist, Maxime Real del Sarte, shows our Lord Jesus with the cross on His shoulder. The Savior is not faint, weary, harassed, as He is so often depicted, but carries His cross with head erect, with triumph; the arms of the cross seem to reach to the horizon. Behind the powerful figure of Christ carrying His cross so victoriously, in the shadow of the cross embracing the earth, an incalculable multitude advances, and each one offers his shoulder that he may help to ease the great Sufferer. Women and men, old people and young, children, priests and laymen, workers, soldiers, little girls, nuns: all offer their strong or feeble shoulders to Christ. And all the same courage, with one and the same confidence, with one and the same spirit sacrifice.

Christ and people, with one and

go toward Golgotha, toward the

What a magnificent, artistic representation of the thought we are now considering! That the heaviest trouble is not suffering, but the soul crushed by suffering; the blackest grief is not affliction, but the soul blinded in the darkness of affliction. To suffer has always been man’s lot, and it remains so: not to perish or collapse under it, but on the contrary to use suffering as a ladder by which to attain spiritual heights, can be taught us only by Christ’s cross.

Christ did not flee from suffering; He overcame it. He loved His cross with the flaming love of one who knows that from His whole gospel the cross will speak most eloquently to mankind. He was poor, but His poverty He overcame with a joyful soul. He fasted, but His fast was a sacrifice He voluntarily took upon Himself. He received wounds, but His wounds were the symbols of love. He carried a cross, but His Calvary was a via triumphalis. He died, but His death was a victory over death.

The words of a French poet come from the heart of universal experience:

Come to the God who also weeps, all you that weep in life.

All you that suffer, come to Him; for He knows suffering too.

All you that suffer, come to Him; and see Him smile on you.

You that are mortals, come to Him, who is eternal life.

B) Thus we understand why those are so strong who can cling to Christ in days of affliction. Of them St. Paul might say what he wrote of the heroes of the faith: “Others had trial of mockeries and stripes, moreover also of bands and prisons. They were stoned, they were cut asunder, they were tempted, . . . of whom the world was not worthy” (Heb. I I : 36–38). a) They are strong, for to them Christ is an anchor, Christ is a rock, Christ is a chain, Christ is a pillar. Perhaps they tremble, strain, groan, and wail, but it is all the same: the anchor holds fast, the rock does not crack, the chain does not break, the pillar does not fall.

They are strong, for through Christ man has received a matchless privilege; that of being able to say in the face of suffering: I take it upon myself. Other living beings only endure, only gnash their teeth, only groan under it; the Christlike man can accept it. Since Christ’s time we have been able to say what the famous General Radetzky wrote so beautifully in one of his letters: “What God wills, is my law.”

The thought which Goethe expressed is valid not only for the race but also for the life of the individual: “The special, single, and most profound subject of universal and human history, to which all else is subordinate, is the clash between unbelief and belief. Every era in which faith dominates . . . is brilliant, uplifting, and productive for its contemporaries and for future generations” (Goethe, Israel in der Wuste, IV, 313). Truly, faith is capital which a man deposits in a savings bank; if rainy days come, he lives upon the interest. b) “I believe in one God.” How often we make this beautiful profession of faith! But to know and to acknowledge God wherever and however He manifests Himself

in the starless night as well as in the rays of the sun, in affliction as well as in happiness, in sickness as well as in health

this is a genuinely Christian conception of life.

Perhaps you say: “Well, I would be glad to bear suffering, if really God sent it to me; when I have to suffer so much because of man, because of wicked people, that is different. A woman lives next door who says everything bad about me; my husband’s stubbornness; my wife’s many whims; I have been cruelly deprived of my little fortune”; and so on.

Truly bitter complaints. But our blessed Lord taught that even in all these afflictions we must perceive God’s plan, God’s holy intention; we must perceive this, just as Christ perceived it. Who took Him captive on that Holy Thursday night? Wicked men. What did our Lord say when Peter impulsively drew his sword? “Put up thy sword into the scabbard. The chalice which My Father hath given Me, shall I not drink it?” (John 18: 11.)

Where shall we gain this strong spirit, which is able to face suffering, mankind’s most torturing problem? In the school of Christ, of Christ who bore His cross triumphantly for our sakes.

If I believe in God, then I also trust in God. A blind person trusts himself to a little child’s guiding hand, a sick person trusts himself to the doctor’s knowledge; so I trust myself to the love of almighty God. For I know that He who directs the course of the clouds and the winds will also show me the path; and I know that heaven and earth will sooner be destroyed, than that anyone will be disappointed who trusts himself to God.

“As in the immeasurably many waters of the seas there is no drop which is not bitter, so there is no one among men in whom fear and pain are not to be found” (Pazmany). One struggles despairingly for his daily bread, another watches beside a sickbed or he himself struggles with illness, a third lives an unhappy family life, a fourth comes from the cemetery, from beside a newly sodded grave. All carry life’s cross. At such times it is good to look up to the great Crossbearer. It is good to know that our Lord trod the path of suffering before us.

In the Jesuit church at Landsberg an instructive picture is to be seen. St. Francis Xavier stands in the picture, while crosses fall from heaven upon him, but so many that he is almost buried beneath them. A picture of human life. It is not possible to hide from the cross. Whoever is a man, also suffers. The only difference is that one suffers with closed fists, with a face distorted by rage, not gaining any merit, thereby suffering senselessly; another suffers with eyes raised to Christ, with triumphant soul, not crushed and broken. Suffering cannot crush, when the cross stands before us, upon it the great Sufferer, our Lord Christ.

“God be praised for everything,” were the last words of the dying St. John Chrysostom. If only we could repeat those words in hours of suffering. Or if each of us would learn to say from his heart this little prayer: “Father, into Thy hands I commend my spirit (Luke 23: 46). Guide me in Thy ways even if they are rugged. Guide me according to Thy plans, even if they are hidden from me. Guide me from darkness, through Thy cross, into the realm of eternal light.” Amen.

JOY IN SUFFERING

IN the tenth chapter of Exodus we read an interesting thing in connection with the plagues sent upon the Egyptians. The Lord God sent a black darkness upon the people of Egypt who opposed His laws. For three days such darkness fell upon them that, according to Holy Writ, “no man saw his brother nor moved himself out of the place where he was” (Ex. 10: 23). But at the same time the homes of the Israelites who trusted in God remained in the light, in light so brilliant that not even the Egyptian darkness could obscure it.

This Biblical scene illustrates the theme of my sermon today about the difficult problem of suffering. Believers and unbelievers, those who keep God’s commandments and those who violate them, live in a great hurly-burly on the face of the earth; the disasters of life and its trials may fall alike upon each one of us. But, whereas unrelieved suffering envelops, in the hopeless gloom of a starless night, those who have no faith, an inner light glows, even in the darkest night of affliction, in the souls of those who believe in God. This light emanates from the cross of Christ. After the Savior’s coming, man has been able to wrestle with the most terrible question, the problem of suffering.

It is interesting to note that the Gospel narrative records only one occasion when our Lord allowed Himself to be publicly feted, that was a few days before His agony, at the triumphal entrance into Jerusalem. On every other occasion when the people wished to glorify Him

yes, even to proclaim Him King after one of His miracles

He withdrew from the enthusiastic multitude and hid Himself from them. But now, just before He suffers, He accepts the salutations, the hosannas of men.

Why was this so? Because now He wished to correct mankind’s former view of suffering. The chorus of hosannas on Palm Sunday enabled our Lord to call the world’s attention to His new teaching: that suffering is not empty torment, not a raised fist, not an aimless struggle, not merely a burden and tears, but also an olive branch, the waving of palm leaves, the source of profound mercies and blissful spiritual peace.

Then let us raise our eyes again to our blessed Lord suffering for our sakes, and let us ask Him what further guidance He wishes to give us by His suffering to help us bear our own. The reply will be: Follow Him in hours of suffering, thus through suffering we may draw nearer to God.

I

FOLLOWING IN OUR LORD’S STEPS

On one occasion St. Peter wrote of our Lord’s sufferings as follows: “For this is thankworthy, if for conscience towards God, a man endure sorrows, suffering wrongfully. . . . For unto this are you called, because Christ also suffered for us, leaving you an example that you should follow His steps” (I Pet. 2: 119, 211). That is, our Lord went through the most torturing suffering, so that in hours of pain we might be able to walk in His footsteps.

A) Our Master truly went through the most agonizing moments of suffering. Do you know what the most agonizing moments of suffering are? When man suffers all alone, when from his lips bursts the lament that there is no one in this world to take pity on him, that it even seems as if God had forsaken him. a) Have you ever been seriously ill, somewhere far away, in a strange place, in a foreign land? Have you felt that dreadful spiritual forsakenness, when you start up from a feverish sleep at night? You light the lamp; ah, it is not yet half past eleven, when will the dawn come? If only someone were here beside me. Only one good soul to whom I could say how greatly I suffer. Because to suffer all alone, means that we suffer doubly. And our Lord accepted this, too: He willed to suffer all alone.

To be alone in trouble

dreadful! Look at little children when they go along the road. Instinctively they take each other’s hands: they feel that in this way they are not alone. Look at men and women. They shake hands many times in a day; the handshake means: Do not be afraid, you are not alone, you can count upon me. b) But Christ remained alone at the moment of His death. His disciples and His friends forsook Him, the angels forsook Him; humanly speaking, even the Father forsook Him.

His disciples forsook Him. One of them swore that he had never known Him; another, when the Master was taken, cast off his garments and made his escape clad in a shirt; the others all fled in different directions.

His friends forsook Him. Where are the vast numbers of people whom He healed? Where are those whom He comforted, that now they may come to comfort Him? They cannot come: all their time is taken up by preparations for the Passover. Five thousand people were well cared for by Him in the wilderness; is there not one among the five thousand who could now be here? Not one. The paralyzed and lame to whom He gave renewed health, at least they could come. They cannot come: the weather is fine, they must work in the fields.

But where are the angels? At least they might comfort Him. When Peter cut off the servant’s ear, with what selfconfidence our Lord said: “Thinkest thou that I cannot ask My Father and He will give Me presently more than twelve legions of angels?” (Matt. 26:53.) And now no legions of angels come, not even one angel comes.

Because

it is terrible even to say it

it is as if even the Father had forsaken Him. The Evangelist mentions that such a feeling of forsakenness came over the dying Christ on the cross, that He cried out to His Father. The Evangelist writes this in the original Aramaic language just as Christ truly uttered these words (perhaps that we may be able to repeat them with heartfelt piety until the end of the world): “Eloi, Eloi, lamma sabacthani?” “My God, My God, why hast Thou forsaken Me?” (Mark 15:34.) The dreadful cry dies away, and there is no response to it. Can we imagine a more grievous moment than this, dear brethren? Think in what annihilating loneliness our Lord bled to death.

B) But why, why? we ask. Why did our Lord will to suffer so very much alone? Quite certainly for us, for our sakes. Because of the lonely hours of pain which may come to us. To comfort our grieved hearts. That we may have Someone to whom to cleave in hours of suffering, that we may be able to follow in our Lord’s footsteps, and by so doing learn the great secret: how to gain grace by suffering. a) To suffer is the common lot of man. But to gain grace by suffering is a Christian privilege. The only unbearable suffering is that of a person who does not know the divine reason for suffering, who does not know what suffering is for. But if, through our suffering, our own or another’s soul becomes better, our suffering is never unbearable.

When grievous, pain-filled night falls upon us, and there is no one, no one in this world, who would understand our trouble, then let us stand beside Christ, beside the suffering Christ. And if our pain is very great we may lament, if it burns very much we may weep, only let us cling closely with our bleeding hearts and wills to Christ. Then this will be meritorious suffering. b) How often we hear people complain: “This life is unbearable. Have we a heavenly Father? If He is our Father, if He loves us, why does He not spare us so many afflictions? Why, why?” Who can give a satisfactory answer to this question? But who can say why He did not spare His only begotten Son, our Lord Jesus Christ, when, for instance, He allowed the Child who was hardly a few weeks old, to be taken in flight to a strange land? We do well to recall this often. Also to remember St. Joseph’s frame of mind in accepting this command.

The Lord God gave St. Joseph a command: “Arise, and take the Child and His mother and fly into Egypt” (Matt. 2:13). Arise. When? In the dark night, without any preparation. Take the Child, the helpless little Infant. And fly. Whither? To Egypt, to a foreign country where you have no friend or acquaintance.

If we had come to such a fugitive state, perhaps we would have said indignantly: Why does God allow such a blow to fall on me? Has He not a thousand other means at His disposal? Why does not bloodthirsty Herod die? Why must the Lord take refuge in flight? St. Joseph did not think in this way. He found strength in this thought: It is God’s will, therefore it is surely best. For He is my Father even when He allows me to suffer. This is the Christian way of thinking: God is our Father even when He allows us to suffer. c) We often hear people say: “My life is sheer pain, sheer misery.” Brethren, do not speak so thoughtlessly. I believe that you are greatly afflicted. I believe that many troubles have come to you. But has your whole life contained nothing but grief and trouble? It may be that there were dark months, years, yes, even decades in it. But surely it contained sunny hours, too, and happiness. It is marvelous, how easily we forget our joy, and how hard it is to forget our grief. Grief is heavy, joy is light. The stone of grief presses upon the soul like early morning mists upon the Alpine landscape; the sunbeam of joy, on the contrary, speedily steals away.

Do not weigh with false scales. You, who never cease to complain, just sit down at your table and write out a list of all the joy you have received from God. But write down every joy. Which joys? Well, a person breaks his leg, and only then does he know what he possessed when he still had sound legs. A person buys eyeglasses and only then appreciates what his sound eyes were to him. A person becomes ill, and only then perceives what an immense treasure health was to him. A person loses some members of the family, some relative or friend, and only then sees how many good people God had given him. And so on. Why must we fail to appreciate anything, until we have lost it? True, there is much grief in life, but there are also many little sunny joys which we are unwilling to see. Yet, if these could elicit such loud prayers of gratitude from our lips as the loud complaints which grief makes us utter, we would certainly bear the burden of life as easily as a certain laborer bore his knapsack with the little cricket in it.

The summer sun was setting when a laborer, tired with his day’s work, took his knapsack on his shoulder and started out for home. At home there awaited him only a thin soup, many hungry children, care, and anxiety. Ill-humoredly the tired man dragged himself along. Life was so hard and bitter, with no joy in it. But all at once a little cricket began to chirp beside or behind him, somewhere. Where could it be? Strange: it was in his knapsack. It must have crept into it during the day, when the knapsack was lying on the ground; and now the whole way it cheerily sang its little song into the gloomy laborer’s ears. And the farther the man went and the more he listened to the chirping little cricket in the empty knapsack, the lighter his heart became, the gentler his expression, perhaps he even smiled a little by the time he reached home with his merry guest.

Brethren, life’s knapsack is burdensome on our shoulders. But let us listen to our faith singing in us: What you do for God’s sake, what you bear with God, for all this God will be your reward. Blessed is the man, as he draws nearer to the twilight of his life, who hears the faith within his soul singing . . . of what? Of the reward that awaits an earthly life spent according to God’s will.

Thinking in this way, we are able to understand even the unpleasantness, the helplessness, the illness of old age. We can see God’s fatherly hand in this. When He is preparing to call someone to Himself, usually He does not wish that this departure should be a sudden rending asunder, but that the many hardships and ailments of old age should slowly loosen our earthly ties, I would almost say, should take away our pleasure in earthly life, so that we might await the liberator death as a good friend.

II

SUFFERING BRINGS US NEARER TO GOD

Whoever has become accustomed to clinging thus to the cross of Christ the sufferer in hours of affliction, does not waver in his faith, or turn away from God through suffering; on the contrary, he is brought nearer to God by it.

A) While we are looking at the cross of Christ, our soul becomes more beautiful, nobler, stronger. An American commission decided to order 30,000 white marble crosses in Italy; the crosses were to be placed upon the graves of the 30,000 American soldiers who died in the World War. But the order depended upon an interesting condition, namely, that the men who carved the marble should not swear even once while they were working. The Italian workers made the necessary promise and they also kept their word. If it is not seemly to swear while carving a cross, then it is still less seemly to bear a cross and grow embittered beneath it, to bear a cross and spiritually collapse. On the contrary, bear your cross, and on Calvary come nearer to God. a) On the days immediately following Christmas, we celebrate the feasts of holy martyrs. It is as though the Church were thus admonishing us that from the rocks of the Bethlehem cave the red flowers of martyrdom spring, or that following Christ means a self-sacrificing, disciplined life. Along the great highways leading to ancient Rome, tomb stood beside tomb; before a traveler reached the Eternal City, he had to pass long rows of these tombs of the dead. A highway of this sort leads to the eternal city of our God, a way lined with tombs: tombs covering the unruliness, the whims, and low instincts we have overcome. b) Happy the man who, in the raging tempest of suffering, can hear the call of God’s voice. Because suffering is in reality God’s word, God’s word calling us home. The German language conveys this thought most clearly when it calls a divinely permitted trial a Heimsuchung (a visitation).

Dore has painted an affecting picture, entitled: “The vale of tears.” Human misery stands before us in this picture, painted with every tone of color. A multitude of weeping, afflicted, struggling people: great and small, crowned kings, chained prisoners, old men and young

misery, everywhere misery. But see, in the throng of sufferers stands a Man in a long white garment, a cross upon His shoulder, and He beckons to the multitude to follow Him. Everyone’s eyes are fixed on the radiant cross and on the right side of the path to which our Lord calls the sufferers. At the end of the way, flowering meadows are seen, and vernal laughing life. Yes, if God were to leave us to suffer and did not help us to bear suffering by the example of the suffering Christ, then we could complain about it.

Since our Savior gave us the example, the cross is not only our grief, but also our salvation. The cross is not merely our affliction, but also our bliss.

B) Is all this nothing more than a flowery figure of speech, an elaborate fabrication? Is it possible that the millstone of suffering does not press down into the grave or into suicide, despair, or lack of faith, but that it raises up, ennobles, and purifies? a) As answer, hear the following lines of a letter written by a refugee from Transylvania, a woman who at one time lived a distinguished social life. “Do not be surprised that poverty is so dreadful to me. To anyone who has enjoyed such a high standard of life as I

I had my country-house, my carriage, my automobile, my estate, and, at that time, many persons to respect me

poverty is much more difficult to bear than for one who has always been poor. In spite of this joyfully I write it

now, here in this hut, I find more peace in my heart and in my soul than I did in the manor-house. Because my faith is greater. And if I look out from my little window upon the starry skies, I feel as if heaven were nearer to me than it was on my balcony. Quite certainly God is now nearer me, too.”

When we see this living faith, which has become so bright through great suffering, we begin to have an inkling of God’s plan with suffering. During a storm at sea, sailors have sometimes discovered an island which did not appear on any map. In the same way, in a spiritual storm many a man has discovered his own self, the previously unknown depths of his own soul. b) If only we could sanctify all our sufferings in this way, and thus mount upward on pain’s granite stairway! If only we could fill with Christ’s spirit our every martyrdom- bodily and spiritual, small and great, extraordinary and commonplace alike! Much evil and suffering exists in the world. But if we were to sanctify every suffering with Christ’s grace, this would develop into such a quantity of reparation in God’s sight, that it could conciliate Him for all man’s wickedness.

Then let us not only suffer

for I think we all have to do that

but let us gain grace by suffering. This is an art so few are able to acquire. Yet suffering which we do not sanctify with grace is a buried treasure, unprofitable capital.

Let us learn the great art of sanctifying suffering from the cross of Christ. Those two hard pieces of wood made into a cross. Two pieces of wood; the one horizontal, the other perpendicular: a symbol of human destiny. Life consists of daring, soaring desires, plans, and aims in perpendicular lines; and then comes a horizontal line that crosses through everything. It crosses through everything, and from all our plans only a cross remains.

What a difference between our Lord’s cross and the cross of uncomprehending man! Uncomprehending man drags his cross, perhaps endures it, too; but Christ overcomes it. Man gnashes his teeth and rails against his cruel fate; but Christ recognizes the Father’s hand even in the horizontal line crossing through human plans, and He forces the evil intentions that spring up from the depths of human depravity, as well as the formidable powers of darkness, under His victorious footsteps.

“As we have to suffer, whether we want to or not, it is better to lighten the blows sent us by God, by patience and the hope of reward, than to make them heavier by angry impatience. The more a trapped wild animal turns and twists, the more firmly does it draw the noose round its neck; the more a netted bird struggles, the more does it entangle its wings: there is no hard yoke which is not borne with less harm, by calmness rather than by tossing and turning” (Pazmany).

Christ on the cross. This is the final solution of the terrible problem of suffering. A blessed example for afflicted man of how, even among the ruins of a broken earthly life, even in the bitterest disappointment and grief, he can still struggle up to the eternal world, to the peaks of a higher life, to nearness to God, and say: Whatever comes, whatever disappointment, affliction, grief, or suffering, I know that my Father has not abandoned me, and I will endure without complaining, as God wishes me to.

The Poles have a beautiful legend about the creation of the skylark. When the Lord God saw how bitterly the first two human beings, driven forth from Paradise, had to work, and with what sad hearts they bowed their heads while at work, He took a little clod of earth into His hand and tossed it up into the air. Behold, the clod thrown high by God’s hand changed into a little feathered bird, into the first skylark, whose marvelous trilling lifted the tired man’s head toward the sky, and since then its song has cheered the plowman at work.

The singing skylark of our earthly life is our faith, unwaveringly set in God. When our weary heads sink earthward, this faith lifts them up. When the waves of suffering almost break over us, this faith gives us courage. And when life’s suffering nails us to the cross, again only this gives consolation and alleviation.

The legend continues. The little skylark wished to be grateful to God, and while Christ went His way through Palestine, teaching, it flew to the Virgin Mother’s window every day, bringing her news of her divine Son. And when the Savior died on the cross, the little bird alighted upon His bleeding hands and tried to draw out the sharp nails with its tiny beak. It attempted to, but was unable to do so. It perched, therefore, beside the sorrowing Mother and, with its touching song, consoled her in her great grief.

Our faith fixed in God and our eyes raised to the afflicted Christ are not able to draw the nails out of our life’s cross, it is true; but at least they speak consolingly of another life, of everlasting life, the door of which is opened for us by calmly borne suffering. And then, even though grief’s night of Egyptian darkness should envelop us, upon our souls the consoling glow of eternal life will still shine. Amen.

SUFFERING AND ITS ETERNAL REWARD

A FEW years ago a great Hungarian nobleman, Prince Ladislaus Batthyany-Strattmann, died. He was a man of saintly life, whose religious home life, great love for mankind, and reputation as an oculist were well known in the land. God blessed the prince with ten children. This prince-physician, from his private fortune, maintained his own hospital and restored sight to thousands of persons.

This man, who lived such an exemplary life, for more than a year before his death lay in a Vienna sanatorium suffering from a most painful disease. In similar circumstances, many would have collapsed spiritually, they would have complained against God: “Have I deserved this, I who have been faithful to God all my life? I who have done so much good to others?”

But the afflicted prince did not entertain such thoughts. He acquiesced in God’s will entirely and was able even to smile in his terrible pain, and he himself consoled his anxious family. As a doctor, he well knew the incurable nature of his illness. Yet those who came to his sick bed went away purified and elevated in soul. On the last day of his life, he finished his usual morning prayers. Then he fell into a coma. In the evening he recovered consciousness. He looked at his watch: a quarter past seven. Every day at this time the whole family was accustomed to pray the rosary together. An altar to the Blessed Virgin, decorated with flowers, stood at the side of his bed. Before it knelt his wife and children and, together with the dying man’s clearly audible prayer, they said the rosary. In this way the prince died: in his hand the rosary, his glazing eyes fixed upon the picture of the Mother of God among the lighted candles.

I recount this edifying story to you at the beginning of my sermon today because I wish to lead you to the well whence this superhuman power, triumphant even in death, gushes forth: to Christ’s suffering. In three words I wish to join together those wells of strength which flow from the cross-bearing Christ toward humanity bleeding under the cross of suffering. These words are “faith” and “life everlasting.” This is Christianity’s final answer to the great problem of suffering. Fear not, only believe; believe in life everlasting.

I

TRUST IN GOD

A) For the final answer to the problem of suffering, an answer which will disperse all obscurity, we must turn to our Lord Jesus Christ. The final answer is given by the words that He spoke to Jairus. Jairus, a ruler of the synagogue, had a twelve-year-old daughter who was lying seriously ill. Her father, falling on his knees, implored our Lord to come to his house and heal the child. While the Savior was on the way to the house, news was brought: It is too late. The girl is already dead. And what does our Lord say to the despairing man? “Fear not, believe only” (Luke 8: 50). a) We often hear how much misery there is in the world, how many suffering, unemployed men in great privation, how many misunderstood persons, how many hundreds of thousands lying sick in hospitals and at home. But how many of these sufferers do what Jairus did in his anxiety for his little daughter? “He fell down at the feet of Jesus, beseeching Him that He would come into his house” (Luke 8:41).

Let us reply in our own hearts to the question: When some trouble comes to us, do we indeed seek God with it, do we fall at His feet? Is our first thought God, without whose knowledge not a hair of our head falls? “But why should my first thought in trouble be God?” you ask perhaps. “Shall I not try to help myself? Shall I not look for work? I am ill; shall I not call a doctor? Yes indeed. Look for work. Call a doctor. But believe in God, too. Believe that in trouble your heavenly Father is with you. Believe that man’s exertions are useless if God’s blessing is not added to them. Believe that the doctor’s knowledge remains of no effect if God does not help. Believe what St. Paul teaches: “All things are yours . . . the world, or life, or death, or things present, or things to come. For all are yours. And you are Christ’s. And Christ is God’s” (I Con 3: 22, 23). With this unconditional surrender believe in God.

Two little children were carrying wood with their father. One of them stretched out his feeble arms, and his father laid the cut wood upon them for him to carry it into the house. His brother stood looking on. When he thought there was enough wood on his little brother’s arms, he said: “That will be enough, brother. You won’t be able to carry more than that” The little brother, however, replied with a smile: “My father knows how much I can bear, and he will pile only that much on my arms.”

Whoever believes thus in God, can be overtaken by suffering, he may also be shaken by it, upset by it, but he cannot be crushed by it. He cannot be crushed by it, for such a man is always able to say: “My Father knows how much I can bear.”

B) Such faith takes us nearer to God even in suffering. A philosophy which does not know Christ, teaches that we must bear affliction with compressed lips in a manly way. It is easy to advise that suffering should be borne in a manly way; but if we do not know what object there is in our suffering? But the pain is assuaged at once if we can connect it with God’s plans.

In Germany on the wall of a forest refuge lodge, some tourist, driven there by the storm, wrote an embittered poem against the bad weather. A later traveler, however, wrote under the complaining lines: “It is God’s will; therefore be still.” Those two lines are a power in the stormy days of life. “Thy will be done.”

Suffering received in this spirit can take us close to Christ’s cross, it can bind us firmly to the divine Sufferer. Even in moments of the greatest pain, it can beguile St. Paul’s enthusiastic cry from the lips of a sick person: “I am filled with comfort; I exceedingly abound with joy in all our tribulation” (II Cor. 7:4).

Coppee, the famous French author, sought happiness apart from God. And when he had searched everywhere in vain and had been disappointed in everything, lying on his bed suffering from a painful illness, he again found the lost faith of his childhood and with it true happiness. We can believe him, who had tasted all the deceptive joys of life, when he says: “Life is an onion; when we cut it open, we begin to weep.” Was it not this that the great composer, Chopin, also felt when, on his death-bed, he pressed the crucifix to his pale lips and said: “Now I am at the source of happiness.”

The hour of illness may be a time of aimless complaining and worry; and with these the trouble is not mitigated. Or it may be an earnest and sacred hour, the recognition of God’s visitation and of His plan, the hearing of God’s knock asking for admittance. Whoever looks upon suffering in this way will find that often he can more easily bear bodily pain, and in every case the soul becomes more beautiful and noble. In the retirement of the sick bed we find time for ourselves at last. In the rush of modern life we seem to have time only for bread-winning, for pleasure, and for amusement; on a sick bed, at last there is time for the poor, neglected soul. “Be you humbled therefore under the mighty hand of God, that He may exalt you in the time of visitation” (I Pet. 5:6). Thus the sickroom will become a church, the sick bed will become an altar on which we offer our pain as a propitiatory sacrifice, and our souls as a complete sacrifice to God.

C) But who can thus cleave to God in trouble and in suffering, believe thus in Him, and pray thus to Him? He who is also accustomed in peaceful and happy days to converse with God.

I hardly know a more tormenting moment than when a man who has forgotten God, is forced by life’s fearful events to turn to God. The poor soul does not know what to say to Him, because it has never been accustomed to speaking to God. Let us suppose some purse-proud father, who has been forgetful of his soul, has an only son lying seriously ill, his breathing becoming quicker and quicker and ever weaker, his hands limp and cold, his forehead bedewed with perspiration. Outside the anxious father questions the departing physician, but receives only an evasive answer. In those dreadful moments, many proud atheists have fallen to their knees, wringing their hands, and crying out in their misery to that great Someone, to that great Unknown. But they have been unable to speak to Him, because they have never developed the practice of doing so.

Brethren, let us accustom ourselves in calm and quiet days to conversing with God, to praying to Him with fervent souls, that in the suffering which befalls us we may know what to say to our heavenly Father, and among the flashes of pain we may also hear His encouraging reply: “Fear not, believe only.”

II

ETERNAL REWARD

I feel, however, that I must offer a more exact explanation of this encouragement which our blessed Lord gives us. “Fear not, believe only,” does not mean that our Lord will grant all our petitions at once and in the very manner we have requested. For example, I am without employment, and I pray to find work immediately; I am ill, and I pray to become well promptly; something hurts, and I beg that the pain cease. This is not the manner in which our Lord promises to answer our prayers. He means that He hears all our prayers, but in the way He sees to be best; that is, we must believe in His final administration of justice, in His final distribution of rewards: in His eternal realm.

Particularly when confronted by the mystery of suffering, we must say with St. Paul: “How incomprehensible are His judgments and how unsearchable His ways” (Rom. 11: 33). For I do not want to keep from you the fact that even after every explanation and all arguments, many incomprehensible features remain on suffering’s face, to which no satisfactory explanation can be offered except the great thought of the world to come, the thought of eternity.

A) When Dante was in Verona during the last years of his exile, he overheard a very interesting conversation. Two women were passing him in the street, and one of them said to the other with a sigh: “Look, that is the man who went to hell and came back from there.” At which the other added: “Well, that is certainly true. That is why his beard is bristly and his face dark. They became so from the devil’s smoke.”

Truly, anyone who has peered deeply into eternity finds—not that his face becomes dark from the smoke- but that in his soul, like some earnest strength, the breath of eternity becomes apparent. People jostle one another around him, widows weep, young people amuse themselves, good people suffer, wicked people carouse, but his eyes have looked into eternity, and he sees that everything is hurrying toward the grave, toward eternity. And then? What will be then?

Seeing day by day the numerous and grave injustices in life, one is prompted to exclaim with the afflicted Job: “Why then do the wicked live, are they advanced and strengthened with riches? . . . Their children dance and play. . . . They spend their days in wealth. Who have said to God: Depart from us, we desire not the knowledge of Thy ways. Who is the Almighty, that we should serve him? And what doth it profit us if we pray to Him?” (Job. 21: 7–15.)

Where is the final answer to these questions? The answer is to be found in the doctrine of our holy faith concerning eternity. Here on earth we are but travelers; some of us enjoying the luxury and comforts of a Pullman chair-car, others traveling in a crowded day coach. But, after reaching the last station, we are all on the same platform. What will happen there, what will happen then, at the end of our journey?

That last hour, when our whole earthly lives pass before our spiritual eyes, will not be easy if our lives have been sheer enjoyment, well-being, and extravagance. If, on the other hand, we have borne life’s crosses with eyes lifted to Christ, then in that last hour the words of Holy Writ will burst from our lips: “It is good for me that Thou hast humbled me” (Ps. 118:71).

To those who choose an upright and honorable life in poverty rather than a dishonorable life in wealth, I should like to send a message in the words of our Lord: “Wide is the gate and broad is the way that leadeth to destruction” (Matt. 7: 13), but “narrow is the gate and strait is the way that leadeth to life” (Matt. 7: 14 ). And I should like to send them a consoling message of our faith: It is difficult to live as a Christian, but easy to die as one; death is difficult for them whose life has been easy.

B) Of course, that we may understand these thoughts and gain this frame of mind, we have need of X-ray eyes, of nextworld faith which shines through all pain and disappointment, through all anxiety and earthly separation, and judges everything by the standards of eternal life. As the dark night becomes brilliant if illumined by arc lights, so every unsuccessful earthly life becomes bearable if illumined by the light of eternal life.

Whoever possesses this living faith will pave the way leading to eternal life with suffering’s granite blocks. Whoever knows that for his soul in this life, besides earthly labor, there awaits him a task for the next world to which the earthly must be subordinated, to such a person all suffering will become a means of assistance toward the great goal.

Among all sufferings and afflictions life can be bearable, can be worth while. The only person unable to bear it is he who has no faith, he who has no God.

Hear what some modern unbelievers say, how they bear the ills of life. Says one of these pessimists: “To live means to suffer; the whole world is one vast hospital, and the physician in it is death” (Heine). Another says: “What eternal life is, I do not know; but I know that this earthly life is a malicious jest” (Voltaire). According to still another, “That person is the happiest, who dies in childhood” (Lenau). The backbone, the pillar, the support slips from life, if faith is lost.

On the other hand, whoever bears firmly in mind the thought of final divine justice and projects the light of life eternal upon the obscure paths of earthly life, will not be uncertain as to the way. Modern light-houses function in this manner in cloudy weather. They do not project their light forward, out onto the open sea, but upward, onto the dark clouds. And the clouds, which otherwise would envelop the horizon in darkness, thus reflect the lighthouse gleam for more than a hundred miles. Our faith, too, projects the glow of eternal life upon the clouds of our earthly paths, because it knows that otherwise suffering cannot be endured. It cannot be endured, except with the consolation given by the knowledge that this is not the final word in our lives.

Man was not created by God for affliction; he was created for happiness. Every particle of us longs for happiness. Mary Magdalen was great when she wept repentant tears at our Lord’s feet, but this was not the final part of her journey, not the final word in her life. That moment of supreme bliss was when the risen Christ said to her: “Mary.” The Blessed Virgin was great when, with grief-stricken soul, she stood under the cross of her divine Son. But the final halting-place of her journey could not be the Stabat Mater; it is the Regina coeli, laetare, “Rejoice, Queen of Heaven.”

Dear brethren, I conclude with the edifying story of a certain count. For more than a year he had been sorely afflicted by some baffling illness. Eminent physicians had failed to ascertain the cause of the trouble. They nursed him, operated upon him again and again, whittled his bones. After eighteen months of suffering, he was still lying on his sick bed with his leg in a plaster cast.

To a priest who came to see him, he said: “See, father, there on the wall facing me is the crucifix. Before, when I was healthy at home, the crucifix was over the head of my bed. Now I have had it placed there, opposite me. Suffering is easier if the crucifix is opposite so that we can look upon the suffering Christ.” These words suggest the strength and balm that suffering man gains from the suffering Christ.

Whenever suffering, our common human fate, overtakes me, O Lord, I beg Thee not to let me suffer complainingly. Do not send greater suffering upon me than I, clinging fast to Thy holy cross, can endure. I beg Thee, if it is right in Thy sight, to mitigate and shorten the days of pain. I beg Thee, if it is possible, to let this chalice pass from me: nevertheless let it not be as I wish, but as Thou wilt. Always, my Lord, in everything, may Thy blessed, holy will be done. Amen.

Nihil Obstat: Sti. Ludovici, die 18 Oct. 1937, F.I. Holweek, Censor Librorum. Imprimatur: Sti. Ludovici, die 21. Oct. 1937, Joannes I. Glennon, Archiepiscopus.

********

Advice To Parents

BY SAINT ALPHONSUS LIGUORI

INDEX

Saint Alphonsus, founder of the Redemptorist Order, Bishop and Doctor of the Church expounds on the privilege and responsibilities of parenthood as a special vocation from God:

The gospel tells us, that a good plant cannot produce bad fruit, and that a bad one cannot produce good fruit. We learn from this, that a good father brings up good children. But, if the parents are wicked, how can the children be virtuous? Have you ever, says Our Lord, in the same gospel, seen grapes gathered from thorns, or figs from thistles? Do men gather grapes from thorns, or figs from thistles? (Matt. 5:16)

So, it is impossible, or rather very difficult, to find children virtuous, who are brought up by immoral parents. Fathers and mothers, be attentive to this sermon, which is of great importance to the eternal salvation of yourselves and of your children. Be attentive, young men and young women, who have not as yet chosen a state in life. If you wish to marry, learn the obligations which you contract with regard to the education of your children, and learn also, that if you do not fulfill them, you shall bring yourselves and all your children to damnation. I shall divide this into two points. In the first, I shall show how important it is to bring up children in habits of virtue; and, in the second, I shall show with what care and diligence a parent ought to labor to bring them up well.

A father owes two obligations to his children; he is bound to provide for their corporal wants, and to educate them in the habits of virtue. It is not necessary to say anything else about the first obligation, than, there are some fathers more cruel than the most ferocious of wild beasts; for these squander away in eating, drinking, and pleasure, all their property, or all the fruits of their industry, and allow their children to die of hunger. Let us discuss education, which is the subject of this article.

It is certain that a child’s future good or bad conduct depends on his being brought up well or poorly. Nature itself teaches every parent to attend to the education of his offspring. God gives children to parents, not that they may assist the family, but that they may be brought up in the fear of God, and be directed in the way of eternal salvation. “We have,” says Saint John Chrysostom, “a great deposit in children, let us attend to them with great care.” Children have not been given to parents as a present, which they may dispose of as they please, but as a trust, for which, if lost through their negligence, they must render an account to God.

One of the great Fathers says, that on the day of judgment, parents will have to render an account for all the sins of their children. So, he who teaches his son to live well, shall die a happy and tranquil death. He that teaches his son . . . when he died, he was not sorrowful, neither was he confounded before his enemies. (Eccl. 30: 3,5) And he will save his soul by means of his children, that is, by the virtuous education which he has given them. She shall be saved through childbearing. (I Tim. 2:15)

But, on the other hand, a very uneasy and unhappy death will be the lot of those who have labored only to increase the possessions, or to multiply the honors of their family, or who have sought only to lead a life of ease and pleasure, but have not watched over the morals of their children. Saint Paul says that such parents are worse than infidels. But if any man have not care of his own, and especially of those of his house, he has denied the faith, and is worse than an infidel. (I Tim. 5:8)

Were fathers or mothers to lead a life of piety and continual prayer, and to communicate every day, they should be damned if they neglected the care of their children.

If all fathers fulfilled their duty of watching over the education of their children, we should have but few crimes. By the bad education which parents give to their offspring, they cause their children, says Saint John Chrysostom, to rush into many grievous vices; and thus they deliver them up to the hands of the executioner. So it was, in one town, a parent, who was the cause of all the irregularities of his children, was justly punished for his crimes with greater severity than the children themselves. Great indeed is the misfortune of the child that has vicious parents, who are incapable of bringing up their children in the fear of God, and who, when they see their children engage in dangerous friendships and in quarrels, instead of correcting and chastising them, they take compassion on them, and say: “What can I do? They are young; hopefully they will grow out of it.” What wicked words, what a cruel education! Do you hope that when your children grow up, they will become saints? Listen to what Solomon says: A young man, according to his way, even when he is old, he will not depart from it. (Proverbs 22:6) A young man who has contracted a habit of sin, will not abandon it even in his old age. His bones, says holy Job, will be filled with the vices of his youth, and they will sleep with him in the dust. (Job 20:11)

When a young person has lived in evil habits, his bones will be filled with the vices of his youth, so that he will carry them to the grave, and the impurities, blasphemies, and hatred to which he was accustomed in his youth, will accompany him to the grave, and will sleep with him after his bones are reduced to dust and ashes. It is very easy, when they are small, to train children to habits of virtue, but, when they have come to manhood, it is equally difficult to correct them, if they have learned habits of vice.

Let us come to the second point-that is, to the means of bringing up children in the practice of virtue. I beg you, fathers and mothers, to remember what I now say to you, for on it depends the eternal salvation of your own souls, and of the souls of your children.

Saint Paul teaches sufficiently, in a few words, in what the proper education of children consists. He says that it consists in discipline and correction. And you, fathers, provoke not your children to anger, but bring them up in the discipline and correction of the Lord. (Ephes. 5:4) Discipline, which is the same as the religious regulation of the morals of children, implies an obligation of educating them in habits of virtue by word and example. First, by words: a good father should often assemble his children, and instill into them the holy fear of God. It was in this manner that Tobias brought up his little son. The father taught him from his childhood to fear the Lord and to fly from sin. And from infancy he taught him to fear God and abstain from sin. (Tobias 1:10) The wise man says, that a well educated son is the support and consolation of his father. Instruct your son, and he will refresh you, and will give delight to your soul. (Prov. 29:17)

But, as a well instructed son is the delight of his father’s soul, so an ignorant child is a source of sorrow to a father’s heart, for the ignorance of his obligations as a Christian is always accompanied with a bad life.

It was related that, in the year 1248, an ignorant priest was commanded, in a certain synod, to make a discourse. He was greatly agitated by the command and the Devil appearing to him, instructed him to say: “The rectors of infernal darkness salute the rectors of parishes, and thank them for their negligence in instructing the people; because from ignorance proceeds the misconduct and the damnation of many.”

The same is true of negligent parents. In the first place, a parent ought to instruct his children in the truths of the Faith, and particularly in the four principle mysteries. First, that there is but One God, the Creator and Lord of all things; secondly, that this God is a remunerator, Who, in the next life, will reward the good with the eternal glory of Paradise, and will punish the wicked with the everlasting torments of Hell; thirdly, the mystery of the Most Holy Trinity,—that is, that in God there are Three Persons, Who are only One God, because They have but One Essence; fourthly, the mystery of the Incarnation of the Divine Word-the Son of God, and True God, Who became man in the womb of Mary, and suffered and died for our salvation.

Should a father or mother say, “I myself do not know these mysteries,” can such an excuse be admitted? Can one sin excuse another? If you are ignorant of these mysteries, you are obliged to learn them, and afterwards to teach them to your children. At least, send your children to a worthy catechist. What a miserable thing to see so many fathers and mothers, who are unable to instruct their children in the most necessary truths of the Faith, and who, instead of sending their sons and daughters to Christian doctrine, employ them in occupations of little account, and when they are grown up, they do not know what is meant by mortal sin, by Hell, or eternity. They do not even know the Creed, the Our Father, or the Hail Mary, which every Christian is bound to learn under pain of mortal sin.

Religious parents not only instruct their children in these things, which are the most important, but they also teach them the acts which ought to be made every morning after rising. They teach them first, to thank god for having preserved their life during the night, secondly to offer to God all their good actions which they will perform, and all the pains which they will suffer during the day, thirdly, to implore of Jesus Christ and Our Most Holy Mother Mary to preserve them from all sin during the day. They teach them to make, every evening, an examination of conscience and an act of contrition. They also teach them to make every day, the acts of Faith, Hope and Charity, to recite the Rosary, and to visit the Blessed Sacrament. Some good fathers of families are careful to get a book of meditations to read, and to have mental prayer in common for half an hour every day. This is what the Holy Ghost exhorts you to practice. Do you have children? Instruct them and bow down their neck from their childhood. (Eccl. 7:25) Endeavor to train them from their infancy to these religious habits, and when they grow up, they will persevere in them. Accustom them also to go to confession and communion every week.

It is also very useful to infuse good maxims into the infant minds of children. What ruin is brought upon children by their father who teaches them worldly maxims! “You must,” some parents say to their children, “seek the esteem and applause of the world. God is merciful, He takes compassion on certain sins.” How miserable the young man is who sins in obedience to such maxims. Good parents teach very different maxims to their children. Queen Blanche, the mother of Saint Louis, King of France, used to say to him: “My son, I would rather see you dead in my arms, than in the state of sin.” So then, let it be your practice also to infuse into your children certain maxims of salvation, such as, What will it profit us to gain the whole world, if we lose our own souls? Everything on this earth has an end, but eternity never ends. Let all be lost, provided God is not lost. One of these maxims well impressed on the mind of a young person, will preserve him always in the grace of God.

But parents are obliged to instruct their children in the practice of virtue, not only by words, but still more by example. If you give your children bad example, how can you expect that they will lead good lives? When a dissolute young man is corrected for a fault, he answers: “Why do you censure me, when my father does worse?” The children will complain of an ungodly father, because for his sake they are in reproach. (Eccl. 41:10) How is it possible for a son to be moral and religious, when he has had the example of a father who uttered blasphemies and obscenities, who spent the entire day in the tavern, in games and drunkenness, who was in the habit of frequenting houses of bad fame, and of defrauding his neighbor? Do you expect your son to go frequently to confession, when you yourself approach the confessional scarcely once a year?

It is related in a fable, that a crab on day rebuked its young for walking crookedly. They replied, “Father, let us see you walk.” The father walked before them more crookedly than they did. This is what happens to the parent who gives bad example. Hence, he has not even courage to correct his children for the sins which he himself commits.

According to Saint Thomas, scandalous parents compel, in a certain manner, their children to lead a bad life. “They are not,” says Saint Bernard, “fathers, but murderers, they kill, not the bodies, but the souls of their children.” It is useless for parents to say: “My children have been born with bad dispositions.” This is not true, for, Seneca says, “You err, if you think that vices are born with us; they have been engrafted.” Vices are not born with your children, but have been communicated to them by the bad example of the parents. If you had given good example to your sons, they would not be so vicious as they are. So parents, frequent the Sacraments, learn from the sermons, recite the Rosary every day, abstain from all obscene language, from detraction, and from quarrels, and you will see that your children follow your example. It is particularly necessary to train children to virtue in their infancy, Bow down their neck from their childhood, for when they have grown up, and contracted bad habits, it will be very difficult for you to produce, by words, any amendment in their lives.

To bring up children in the discipline of the Lord, it is also necessary to take away from them the occasion of doing evil. A father must forbid his children to go out at night, or to go to a house in which their virtue might be exposed to danger, or to keep bad company. Cast out, said Sarah to Abraham, this bondswoman and her son. (Gen. 21:10) She wished to have Ismael, the son of Agar the bondswoman, banished from her house, that her son Isaac might not learn his vicious habits. Bad companions are the ruin of young persons. A father should not only remove the evil which he witnesses, but he is also bound to inquire after the conduct of his children, and to seek information from family and from outsiders regarding the places which his children frequent when they leave home, regarding their occupations and companions. A father ought to forbid his children ever to bring into his house stolen goods. When Tobias heard the bleating of a goat in his house, he said, Take care, perhaps it is stolen, go, restore it to its owners. (Tobias 2:21)

Parents should prohibit their children from all games, which bring destruction on their families and on their own souls, and also dances, suggestive entertainment, and certain dangerous conversations and parties of pleasures. A father should remove from his house books of romances, which pervert young persons, and all bad books which contain pernicious maxims, tales of obscenity, or of profane love. He should not permit his daughters to be alone with men, whether young or old. But some will say: “But this man tutors my daughter; he is a saint.” The saints are in Heaven, but the saints that are on earth are flesh, and by proximate occasions, they may become devils.

Another obligation of parents is to correct the faults of the family. “Bring them up in the discipline and correction of the Lord.” There are fathers and mothers who witness faults in the family and remain silent. Through fear of displeasing their children, some fathers neglect to correct them, but, if you saw your child falling into a pool of water, and in danger of being drowned, would it not be savage cruelty not to catch him by the hair, and save his life? He that spares the rod hates his son. (Prov. 13:24) If you love your children, correct them, and while they are growing up, chastise them, even with the rod, as often as it may be necessary.

I say, with the rod, but not with a stick; for you must correct them like a father, and not like a prison guard. You must be careful not to beat them when you are in a passion, for you will then be in danger of beating them with too much severity, and the correction will be without fruit, for then they believe that the chastisement is the effect of anger, and not of a desire on your part to see them amend their lives. I have also said, that you should correct them while they are growing up, for when they arrive at manhood, your correction will be of little use. You must then abstain from correcting them with the hand, otherwise, they will become more perverse, and will lose their respect for you. What use is it to correct children with injurious words and with imprecations? Deprive them of some part of their meals, of certain articles of dress, or shut them up in their room. I have said enough. Draw from this discourse the conclusion, that he who has brought up his children badly, will be severely punished, and that he who has trained them in the habits of virtue, will receive a great reward.

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After Death-What?

BY REV. RICHARD FELIX, O.S.B

INDEX

LIFE AFTER DEATH

No truth of revealed religion is set forth more clearly in Holy Scripture than the fact that we shall live after death. “I know that my Redeemer liveth, and in the last day I shall rise out of the earth. And I shall be clothed again with my skin and in my flesh I shall see my God. This my hope is laid up in by bosom.” (Job xix., 25.) Daniel the Prophet speaks to the same effect: “Those that sleep in the dust of the earth shall awake, some unto life everlasting, and others unto reproach, to see it always.” (xii., 2.) But of all the pictures given us in the Old Testament of the final resurrection, none is so graphic or so gripping as that recorded in the Vision of the Prophet Ezekiel. “The hand of the Lord was upon me and brought me forth in the spirit of the Lord and set me down in the midst of a plan that was full of bones. And He said to me: Son of man, dost thou think these bones shall live? And I answered: O Lord God, Thou knowest. He said to me: Prophesy concerning these bones and say to them, Ye dry bones, hear the word of the Lord. Behold, I will send spirit into you and you shall live. And I will lay sinews upon you and will cause flesh to grow over you and will cover you with skin, and I will give you spirit and you shall live and you shall know that I am the Lord. And I prophesied as He had commanded me; and as I prophesied there was a noise, and behold a commotion. And the bones came together, each one to its joint. And I saw, and behold the sinews and the flesh came upon them, and the skin was stretched out over them; but there was no spirit in them. And he said to me: Prophesy to the spirit, O son of man, prophesy, and say to the spirit, Thus said the Lord God, Come, Spirit, from the four winds, and blow upon these slain and let them live again. And I prophesied as He had commanded me. And the spirit came into them, and they lived; and they stood upon their feet, an exceeding great army.” (Ez. xxxvii., 1.)

In the New Testament constant reference is made to the resurrection of the body. In the Gospel of St. John, for instance, we read, “Jesus said to Martha: Thy brother shall rise again. Martha said to Him: I know that he shall rise again in the resurrection at the last day. Jesus said to her: I am the Resurrection and the Life; he that believeth in Me, although he be dead, shall live.” (John xi., 23.)

During the public life of our Blessed Lord, Jesus raised at least three persons from death to life. These three are recorded. There may have been many more. The three resurrections recorded in the Gospels embrace the three stages of death: first, the daughter of Jairus, dead but a few hours; secondly, the son of the widow of Naim, who had been dead several days, and was being carried out to burial; and, thirdly, Lazarus, who was dead and had been buried for a number of days. By calling back the dead to life Jesus gave proof of His power over death and the grave. Hence the Significance of that saying of the Saviour, “They that shall be accounted worthy of that world, and of the Resurrection from the dead, can die no more; for they are equal to the Angels, and are the children of God, being the children of the Resurrection.” (Luke xx., 35.) Besides bringing back the dead to life, Our Blessed Lord foretold, not once but many times, His own Resurrection from the dead (e.g., Matt. xx., 19). What He had thus foretold came to pass precisely as He had predicted (Luke xxiv., 39; John xx., 20). And inasmuch as He has proclaimed that all the dead shall rise again, it follows that this prediction will likewise be fulfilled to the letter.

What Christ proclaimed so plainly concerning the resurrection of the body, the Apostles repeated over and over again. “We will not have you ignorant, brethren, concerning them that are asleep, that you be not sorrowful, even as others who have no hope. For if we believe that Jesus died, and rose again; even so them who have slept through Jesus, God will bring with Him.” (1 Thess. iv., 12.) St. Paul, in speaking of the dead as they who are asleep, signifies that death shall have an awakening. Our Divine Lord used the same expression for death when He informed His followers that Lazarus was dead, saying to them, “Lazarus, our friend, sleepeth; but I go that I may awake him out of sleep.” (John xi., 11.) In his Epistle to the Romans, the Apostle further declares: “If the Spirit of Him that raised up Jesus from the dead, dwell in you; He that raised up Jesus Christ from the dead, shall quicken also your mortal bodies, because of His Spirit that dwelleth in you.” (Rom. viii. . 11.)

How all this will be accomplished we know not. But accomplished it will be. The lowly caterpillar that crawls upon the earth and feeds on leaves and weeds buries itself at autumn time in a tomb of its own making; and after a few months bursts the confines of its sepulchre, a winged creature of the air, a beautiful butterfly, which now scorns the earth and lives on the nectar of fragrant flowers. So, too, the Apostle tells us, itwill be with our bodies. “It is sown in corruption; it shall rise in incorruption. It is sown in dishonour; it shall rise in glory. It is sown in weakness; it shall rise in power. It is sown a natural body; it shall rise a spiritual body.” (1 Cor. xv., 42.) On the word of Our Lord, “The hour cometh, wherein all that are in the graves shall hear the voice of the Son of God. And they that have done good things shall come forth unto the Resurrection of life; but they that have done evil, unto the Resurrectionof judgment.” (John v., 28.)

WHAT HAPPENS IMMEDIATELY AFTER DEATH?

When man dies, his body and soul are separated for a time; the body is buried and returns to dust; the soul goes at once to God to be judged, and is rewarded or punished according to its works.

The judgment immediately after death is known as the Particular Judgment. The necessity of a Particular Judgment is evident from the fact that at death the souls of different men go to different destinations, Purgatory, Hell, or Heaven. The communication to the soul of its sentence immediately after death obviously involves a judgment immediately after death. Although never expressly mentioned in the Bible, the idea of a Particular Judgment is clearly implied in those passages which speak of an immediate retribution after death. Our Lord taught that Dives was punished and Lazarus rewarded directly after death (Luke xvi., 22), and He promised Paradise to the penitent thief at once (Luke xxiii., 43). The judgment set forth as an article of faith in all of the ancient Creeds—.the Apostles”, the Nicene, and the Athanasian.is the final or General Judgment.

WHAT IS MEANT BY THE GENERAL JUDGMENT?

The fact that there will be a General Judgment is emphasised throughout the Sacred Scriptures. The Prophets of the Old Law call it the “Day of the Lord” (Joel ii., 31; Ezekiel xiii., 5; Isaias ii., 12). Our Lord describes it in minute detail (Matt. xxiv., 27; xxv., 31); and His Apostles mention it frequently (Acts x., 42; xvii., 31; Rom. ii., 5; xiv., 10; 1 Cor. iv., 5; 2 Cor. v., 10; 2 Tim. iv., 1; 2 Thess. i., 5; James v.,7).

The General Judgment of mankind will take place at the end of the world. The bodies of all men will be reunited with their souls and every man will come before God for a second and final judgment. In the Particular Judgment only the soul appears before God. In the General Judgment the body as well as the soul of each individual will receive the reward or punishment that it justly deserves. At that time all the words and works of men, even their most secret thoughts, will be made manifest to the world. At that time the Mercy and Justice of God will be vindicated before all the world. At that time will take place the great and eternal segregation of the good from the wicked; the former to hear the welcoming words of Our Lord, “Come, ye blessed of My Father, possess you the Kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world” (Matt. xxv., 34); and the latter those terrifying words that will ring in their ears throughout eternity, “Depart from Me, you cursed into everlasting fire which was prepared for the devil and his angels.” (Matt. xxv., 41.)

What an awakening that will be on Judgment Day! How different the sentiments that will well up in the souls of the just and the unjust on that day of days! What remorse and regret will haunt the heart of the impious, the ungodly, the scoffer at religion. What joy and peace and holy happiness will possess the soul of the saved! Banished from God eternally, yet beholding for one brief moment the glory and rich reward of those who in life served God sincerely, the lost will lament: “These are they whom we had some time in derision and for a parable of reproach. We fools esteemed their life madness and their end without honour. Behold how they are numbered among the children of God and their lot is among the saints. We wearied ourselves in the way of iniquity and destruction, and have walked through hard ways, but the way of the Lord we have not known. What hath pride profited us or what advantage hath the boasting of riches brought us! All those things have passed away like a shadow, and as a ship that passeth through the waves whereof, when it is gone by, the trace cannot be found, nor the path of its keel in the waters; so we also have been able to show no mark of virtue, but are consumed in our wickedness. Such things as these said the sinners in Hell. . . . But the just shall live forever-more, and their reward is with the Lord, and the care of them with the Most High, They shall receive a Kingdom of glory and a crown of beauty at the hand of the Lord.” (Wisdom v., 5.)

What will be the nature and condition of our bodies in the Resurrection? It is the teaching of the Church that the body, which will be reunited to the soul at the Resurrection, will be identified with the one inhabited by the soul on earth. Every soul will receive back its own body. “This corruptible body,” says St. Paul, “must needs put on incorruption, and this mortal body immortality.” (1. Cor., xv., 53.) Consequently, it is the one and same body which, having been corruptible and mortal in this life, becomes incorruptible and immortal after the Resurrection

Moreover, the risen body will be whole and entire, perfect and complete in every respect. No infirmities, no deformities of any kind will be seen in Heaven. Thus St. Augustine tells us, “As all the members of the body appertain to the integrity of human nature, they shall all be restored together. They who were either blind from birth or lost their sight on account of some disease, the lame, the maimed, and the paralysed shall rise again with an entire and perfect body.” The same holy Doctor then goes on to express the expectation that, “whatever old age or disease has wasted in the body shall be repaired by the divine power of Christ,” and that “the body will be raised not in an immature or decrepit condition but as it appeared in the prime of life.” (“De Civitate Dei,” xxii.,6)

HEAVEN

What is Heaven? In attempting to give an answer to this question we must remember that any statement about Heaven is bound to be miserably inadequate and far short of the full truth. This misfortune is rooted in the limitations of our nature. God is an infinite Person; His attributes in every way infinite; His home one of infinite holiness and happiness, one of infinite beauty and loveliness. But we, being finite, and having only a very limited conception of things that are infinite, can speak of them only by way of analogy-that is to say, in human terms.

With this understanding, then, we ask in all humility: What is Heaven? Heaven, says the Church, is the clear Vision and the perfect Possession of God. The essential happiness of Heaven is found in the Blessed Vision of God, the Beatific Vision, as it is called; seeing God, and in seeing God, seeing all things as in a mirror; seeing God, loving God, enjoying God; in one word, the possession of God; that is Heaven. On the other hand, the pain of privation, the lack of God’s presence, the loss of His possession, make up the main misery of Hell.

To think correctly on this subject, we must keep in mind that we have been created for Heaven. In creating us for Heaven, the Creator endowed us with all the faculties that we would need in order to enjoy Heaven. In the faculties of the soul and body that God gave us, we have a definite, though indirect, intimation of the joys of Heaven.

The human soul thirsts for knowledge and hungers for love; the bodily senses yearn for sensible delights. Heaven, therefore, must and does supply every faculty with its supreme satisfaction, must and does meet every legitimate longing of the human heart.

That the soul of man thirsts for knowledge is evident to every one. The inquisitive child, the man of science in his laboratory, people pouring over the evening newspaper are all seeking one thing-knowledge. They are in quest of one object only-truth. In Heaven this thirst of the soul for truth will be more than satisfied in the blessed Vision of God, which is nothing less than the storehouse of God’s Mind laid open and made manifest to the eye of man. All that is knowable is in God. The knowledge and science that men may gather by generations of study and research are only partial and veiled glimpses ofGod’s Mind reflected in matter. “We see now through a glass in a dark manner; but then face to face. Now I know in part; but then I shall know even as I am known.” (1 Cor., xiii., 12.) The soul seeing God face to face in Heaven drinks in the knowledge if all things at their fountain-head, and to the utmost of its created ability knows all things with the knowledge of God.

The second thing desired by the soul is love -to love and to be loved. The history of the human race and of every individual in it bears witness to this fact. In God this hunger of the human soul for love will be gratified fully. “God is Love” (John iv., 16), Love personified. All that is lovable is in God. All parental love, the love of fathers and mothers; all filial love, the love of little ones; all marital love, the love of husbands and wives; all fraternal love, the love of kinsfolk; all friendship; all ties of affection; the love of the good, the sublime, the beautiful; all these are but so many sparks from the divine furnace, the loving and adorable Heart of God. The hunger of the soul for love will be sated in the loving possession of God. The soul, loving God with all the powers of its being, and in turn beloved by Him Who is Love itself, rests in God. To the faithful soul on Judgment Day Our Lord will say, “Enter thou into the joy of thy Lord” (Matt. xxv., 21). Observe, it is not said, “May the joy of thy Lord enter into thee,” but, “Enter thou into the joy of thy Lord.”

Men’s third want is that of sensible de light-that is, the enjoyment that the soul derives through the senses. All the delights of the senses freed from the dross and alloy that sin brought into the world are enjoyed in Heaven. Nature in all of its wonderful forms and colours, in all of its glory and grandeur, is nothing more than a thought of God presented to man in matter. That is why nature so appeals to the human heart. In its beauties we catch a glimpse of the glory and beauty of God Himself. The resurrected man takes into eternity all the senses and faculties that he possessed here on earth. There these same senses and faculties will be spiritualised and will seek with an eternal longing for their proper objects, and in God will have their every longing satisfied. This is no less true of the sensible delights of man than it is of his quest for truth and love.

In Heaven, too, will be renewed and intensified all the love and affection that was ours in life. We will know one another more dearly and more clearly than even on earth. Parents and children, brothers and sisters, husbands and wives, relatives and friends, all who once parted in tears shall meet and know and never part again. In that day, says St. John, “God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes; and death shall be no more, nor mourning, nor crying, nor sorrow shall be any more, for the former things are passed away.” (Apoc. xxi.,4)

The loving companionship of our dear ones, our family, our friends; our intimate fellowship with the saints and angels, with Mary the Mother of Jesus, with Our Blessed Lord Himself; all this will be ours in God, the possession of Whom is Heaven. Truly, “Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither hath it entered into the heart of man what things God hath pre- pared for them that love Him.” (1 Cor.ii., 9.)

How is it possible for man to enjoy the delights of sense in the world to come? First of all it is a mistaken notion to think that the universe will be utterly destroyed on the last day. It will not be destroyed. All of man’s works and all that Adam’s fall brought into the world will be consumed, but neither the earth nor the starry heavens above will cease to exist. They will be changed only. “As a vesture shalt Thou change them, and they shall be changed.” (Hebr. i., 12.) And, again, God says in Isaias, “Behold, I create new heavens, and a new earth.” (ixv., 17.) St. Peter tells us, “We look for new heavens and a new earth, according to His promises” (2 Peter iii., 13), and St. John in the Apocalypse, “He that sat on the throne said: Behold I make all things new” (xxi.,5). Nature then renewed in God and glorified will continue to give joy to the resurrected man in eternity and fill his heart with sensible delight.

In the final resurrection the souls of all men will be reunited with their bodies. The bodies of the elect will be spiritualised like unto the body of our Risen Lord on Easter Day. Endowed with agility, they will be able to transport themselves anywhere with the swiftness of thought; matter will no longer be a barrier to them; clarity and the glory of Grace will shine from their countenance-every saved soul a spiritualised creature, a living jewel sparkling with the splendour of God. Wherever they may go new and magnificent beauties will burst upon them. Every moment of their existence will bring its new delights; delights that will never diminish or dwindle, because they radiate from One Who is Infinite; delights that will renew ever their life of joy in God, impelling them to break forth in that hymn of praise sung by all in the heavenly court, “Holy, Holy, Holy, Lord God of Hosts, all the earth is full of Thy glory.” (Isaias vi., 3.)

WHAT DOES THE CHURCH TELL US ABOUT THE ANGELS?

The angels were the first citizens of Heaven. Unlike the saints, the angels never lived in this world or possessed material bodies. They were created pure spirits, intellectual beings distinct from God and by nature of higher dignity than man. Their number is told in the millions. Christ Himself spoke of legions of them. According to their dignity and nearness to God, the angels are divided into nine choirs-namely, the Seraphim, Cherubim, and Thrones; the Dominations, Virtues, and Powers; the Principalities, Archangels, and Angels. Each of these choirs probably comprises many millions.

Upon creation none of the angels were admitted at once to the presence of God, but all were put to a test to prove their worthiness of Heaven. The nature of this test has not been revealed to us. It is the common opinion of theologians, however, that God made known to the angels that the Second Person of the Blessed Trinity would one day become man, and in the flesh redeem a creature of lesser dignity than they, and thus make it possible for man to attain Heaven. Many of the angels, with Lucifer at their heed, rebelled against God, refused to believe and obey, and were banished eternally from Heaven. “God spared not the angels that sinned, but delivered them unto torments.” (2 Peter ii., 4.) Thus the origin of Hell. Out of envy lest man should acquire the place that they had forfeited in Heaven, these evil spirits seek to draw man away from God and bring about his spiritual ruin. Their power, though, is limited to suggestion and temptation; they may never coerce the will of man.

Most of the angels, however, were true to God in the test that He gave them and were admitted then into Heaven. These good angels make up the heavenly court, and will spend eternity in the joy and glorification of God. God employs some of them as His messengers in the guidance and government of the word. To each man at birth is assigned a special angel, called his Guardian Angel, whose duty It is to protect his charge throughout life, shield him from the snares of the spirits of evil, suggest good thoughts to him, offer his prayers and good works to the Almighty, protect him especially in the hour of death, and after death conduct his soul to the throne of the Most High for judgment. This sums up in brief the teaching of the Church concerning the angels.

What should one think of the idea of Heaven held by those outside the Church? Outside the Church the idea of Heaven has been greatly distorted. Those who left the Church in the sixteenth century discarded the theology of the Church about Heaven along with many other things of historic Christianity. In consequence, they have been forced ever since to fall back more and more on the imagery of Scripture. For over four hundred years now they have talked and preached and sung of Heaven as a place of harps and hymns and crowns of gold and streets of jasper. These, of course, are but symbols. As symbols they are good as far as they go, but they give us no more an idea of the life of Heaven than pictures of men with wings give us a notion of the being of angels. Substituting the symbol for the substance, and discarding the teaching of the Church on the subject, the non-Catholic world for centuries has had no food for its mind on this subject except the symbols; and symbols, while they may serve very well as stimuli for the imagination, are not food sufficient for the intellect. The result is that, for the average men, Heaven, thought of in terms of endless hymn-singing, is anything but attractive. This, however, is not the idea of the Church about Heaven. For her Heaven is the clear Vision and the perfect Possession of God, with all that that implies.

WILL ALL MEN GO TO HEAVEN?

Those who live without God in this life cannot expect to live with God in life eternal. Our Lord Himself has told us, “Not every man that saith to Me, Lord, Lord, shall enter into the Kingdom of Heaven; but he that doth the Will of My Father

Who is in Heaven, he shall enter into the Kingdom of Heaven.” (Matt. vii., 21.) Fif teen hundred years ago the great St. “Augustine observed that, “though God has brought us into this world without consulting us about it, He will not save us without our cooperation.” (Sermo 169.) Our cooperation is absolutely necessary. “He who doth the Will of My Father, he shall enter into the Kingdom of Heaven.” A good life, freedom from sin, the state of Sanctifying Grace, wholehearted obedience to Christ and to the One Church that Christ established in this world; these are the keys that unlock the portals of Paradise and fit one for the abode of the Blessed.

HELL

Is there a literal Hell? No, indeed, says the man-about-town. He simply cannot brook the idea of Hell or bring himself to believe in such a dreadful doctrine. The very word grates upon his sensitive soul. He hates to hear it even mentioned. The notion of Hell, he will tell you, is something medieval, outmoded, incompatible with the modern conception of God. Thus speaks the live-as-you-like individual. But what does Christ say about Hell? After all, it is His word and His word alone that counts in a question like this. What does Christ say about the matter?

Even a cursory reading of the New Testament will convince one that Our Lord was very explicit in His teaching about the reality of Hell. In demanding that men follow Him and believe in His Gospel, Christ continually tells them that their eternal salvation is at stake and that they will suffer eternal damnation if they die in their sins. Thus He warns them against the sin of impenitence (Matt. xii., 32), and the sin of scandal (Matt,. xviii., 8); He urges the duty of charity (John xv., 6), and the virtue of chastity (Matt. v., 28)-all under the penalty of eternal punishment. The Kingdom of Heaven is for those “who do His Father’s will,” the pit of Hell for “the workers of iniquity” (Matt. vii., 21).

It was the custom of Christ to present the truths that He came to teach us in the form of parables. Many of the parables of Our Lord close with a condemnation of the wicked to Hell-e.g., the parable of the tares and the wheat (Matt. xiii., 24), of the net (Matt. xiii., 47), of Dives and Lazarus (Luke xvi., 18), of the great supper (Luke xiv., 16), of the royal wedding feast (Matt. xxii., 13), of the wise and foolish virgins (Matt. xxv., 10), and of the talents (Matt. xxv., 14). Even in His Sermon on the Mount, Our Lord refers to Hell six different and distinct times.

The teaching of Christ concerning the dread reality of Hell is brought out best of all, perhaps, in the graphic picture that He gives us of the Last Judgment. All the millions of men are gathered together before the Judgment seat of the King Who is Christ Himself. “All nations shall be gathered together before Him, and He shall separate them one from the other, as the shepherd separateth the sheep from the goats; and He shall set the sheep on His right hand, but the goats on His left. Then shall the King say to them That shall be on His right hand: Come, ye blessed of My Father, possess you the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world, and then He shall say to them also that shall be on His left hand: Depart from Me, you cursed, into everlasting fire which was prepared for the devil and his angels, and these shall go into everlasting punishment; but the just into life everlasting.” (Matt. xxv., 82.)

The Apostles repeat the teachings of Our Lord. St. Peter tells us that false prophets and lying teachers shall be punished in Hell like the rebel angels. (2 Peter ii., 1.) St. Jude speaks of ungodly men, deniers of Christ, who, like the fallen angels, shall suffer the punishment of eternal fire and shall be cast into eternal darkness. (Jude 4.) St. Paul consoles the Thessalonians by promising them a fitting reward in the future for their faith and constancy here on earth, and assures them that their persecutors shall be banished eternally from the Lord and undergo everlasting tribulation. (2 Thess. i., 6.) The wicked, he tells us elsewhere, shall not possess the kingdom of God. (1 Cor. vi., 9; Gal. v., 19; Eph. v., 5.)

In view of all this, we cannot escape the conclusion that there is a literal Hell. Christ taught the doctrine plainly. No artifice of speech or method of modern exegesis can minimise the meaning of His unmistakable words. There is a Hell and that Hell is a menacing reality for every member of the human race. Whether or not we shall escape that dungeon of despair depends entirely on us. “Consider that I have set before thee this day life and good, and, on the other hand, death and evil:

That thou mayest love the Lord thy God and walk in His ways and keep His commandments . . . but if thy heart be turned away so that thou wilt not hear, and, being deceived with error thou adore strange gods and serve them, I foretell thee this day that thou shalt perish . . . I call Heaven and earth to witness this day that I have set before you life and death, blessing and cursing. Choose, therefore, life that thou may live.” (Deut. xxx., 15.)

IN WHAT DOES THE PUNISHMENT OF HELL CONSIST?

“Depart from Me, ye cursed, into everlasting fire which was prepared for the devil and his angels.” (Mat. xxv., 41.) In these words Christ Our Lord tells us three truths about Hell concerning which there may be no doubt or uncertainty. First, the damned in Hell are cursed of God and separated from Him forever (Depart from Me, ye cursed); secondly, they must suffer terribly (fire); and, thirdly, their sufferings will endure eternally (everlasting fire).

God alone can satisfy the soul of man. God alone can fill the heart of man with happiness. To be banished from Heaven and branded with the curse of God eternally-what unutterable catastrophe this! Second only to the eternal loss of God is the pain of punishment suffered by the damned. Christ refers to this constantly under the figure of fire (e.g., Mark ix., 42; Luke xvi., 24; Matt xxv. 41). Our Lord had the whole dictionary at His command yet He deliberately chose the word fire to describe Hell. The nature of this fire is unknown. The Catholic Church indulges neither in fantastic exaggeration nor in foolish denial concerning the reality of this fire. Fire it is and that says enough. Lastly, Hell is everlasting. The soul of man is immortal. It will live as long as God is God, and that means forever and ever. It will live either with God in Heaven, or without God in the company and conditions of the devils of Hell. “Depart from Me, ye cursed, into everlasting fire, which was prepared for the devil and his angels.” Terrible truths these, but truths that come from the lips of that same Christ, Who died on a cross that He might save men from such a fate if only they would avoid sin and avail themselves of His redeeming blood.

How can a sin committed in a moment of time deserve an eternity of punishment? Even in this world duration of punishment is not determined by the length of time it took to commit the offence. For instance, murder may be the work of a moment, yet it is justly punished by long years of imprisonment and even death. The Church teaches that only those go to Hell who die in mortal sin. But mortal sin is not an accidental mishap that may overtake a man unawares. Mortal sin is the knowing and conscious violation of the law of God in an important matter. He who commits a mortal sin sins with eyes open, knowing full well what he is doing, yet deliberately choosing to do that which he knows to be seriously evil. God is not only infinitely good and merciful, but He is also infinitely just and holy. His justice and holiness compel Him to hate and punish sin in proportion to its guilt. If there were any chance of conversion in the next world, or any hope that Hell might come to an end even after a million years, how few would shrink from sin. The thought of eternal punishment alone could and does deter the average man from sin.

Fear of punishment is not indeed the highest or most noble motive for good conduct. Yet Our Lord, Who is Wisdom incarnate, appeals constantly to this motive, and tells us that Hell is the one and only thing that we need to fear in this lif e (e.g., Matt. x., 28; xviii., 8). Even in human affairs prudence demands that we take precaution against the things that threaten our well-being. We do not trifle with pestilence. We shun and avoid smallpox. That is what God wants us to do with regard to Hell. He would have us fear Hell and shun it in the same way and for the same reason that we fear and avoid any dreadful disease. People who live good lives are not worried about Hell, any more than the orderly citizen is disturbed by the presence of jails and penitentiaries in our midst. He knows that these things exist, but that they do not exist for him as long as he lives an honest and honour-able life. So, too, with the good Christian. He knows full well that there is a Hell, and that it would be foolish for him to decry or deny the existence of such a place. But he knows, too, that if he lives a sincere Christian life Hell shall never claim him. Such fear is salutary and soulsaving. “The fear of the Lord driveth out sin.” (Ecclesiasticus i., 27.)

WHAT SOULS WILL BE SENT TO HELL?

As we live so we die, and as we die so we shall be throughout the endless ages of eternity. This life is a period of preparation for the next. Heaven or Hell, whichever it be, is but the logical continuation of the kind of life we have lived here on earth. In a very real sense, then, every man decides his own destiny in eternity. The sentence which will be imposed on the soul in the final Judgment, whether it be for eternal weal or for eternal woe, is nothing more than God’s ratification of the sentence that each one has composed for himself in life. “God will have all men to be saved” (1 Tim. ii., 4), but God will not force a man to be saved. “It depends on the will of man, whether he shall do or not do.” (Numbers xxx., 14.) Whether we will be saved or not depends on us. If a man dies with his will rebellious to God he puts himself in Hell. Who, then, will go to Hell? The answer is plain: those who put themselves there by ignoring God in this life and defying His holy law. And who will go to Heaven? The answer is equally clear: those who love God and keep His commandments. Words without deeds do not count. Christ was not content merely to declare His love for us. He lived it. If we love Him truly we must show it by the service of our lives. “If you love Me, keep My commandments.” (John xi., 15.)

It is consoling to consider that, up to the last moment of life, the sinner may turn from his evil way and be saved. “As I live, saith the Lord God, I desire not the death of the sinner, but that the wicked turnfrom his way and live.” (Ezekiel xviii., 32.) No sin is too great for God’s mercy, nor any number of sins too many for His forgiveness. Christ, Who is God in human flesh, came into this world solely to save sinners. That was the one and only purpose of His coming. His life, His doctrine, His death on the cross, all bear eloquent testimony to that. Christ established His Church to continue His mission of mercy and salvation to sinful, sinning men. Christ gave to His priests “the ministry of reconciliation” (2 Cor. v., 18), and set up within His Church the Sacraments of Baptism and Penance as two perpetual fountain-heads of mercy and forgiveness for repentant men. Truly God has left nothing undone to save even the worst sinner in the world. But man must be in earnest with God and make use of the means of mercy placed at his disposal. For God, Who has promised forgiveness to the penitent sinner, has not promised him his own time for repentance. If the sinner persists in his evil life, puts off his conversion,and presumes on God’s mercy, he will find the Justice of God overtaking him without warning and when he least expects it. “Delay not to be converted to the Lord, and defer it not from day to day. For His wrath shall come on a sudden, and in the time of vengeance He will destroy thee.” (Ecclesiasticus V., 8.)

PURGATORY

The Catholic doctrine of Purgatory Is a truth so grounded in Scripture and Tradition, so consonant with reason, and so consoling to the human heart that it is more than strange that it should ever be called into question. It was set forth explicitly in the Old Testament, and at least assumed in the New; it was taught by all the Fathers and writers of the early Church, and found expression in all the ancient liturgies of the Eastern as well as the Western world; for fifteen hundred years the whole of Christendom held fast to this doctrine as a fundamental fact of the Christian faith.

It remained for the reformers of the sixteenth century, when they undertook to reform the irreformable Church of Christ, to be the first to deny it. Denying as they did the efficacy of prayer for the dead, they were obliged to deny the existence of a state of purgation after death; and to support the denial of Purgatory, they had to deny further the possibility of venial or slight sins. But all these denials are repugnant alike to reason and to revelation.

Unaided, reason sees that all sins cannot be deadly to the soul. The very nature of Justice would be destroyed if all sins were equal, for it is the office of justice not only to punish but to proportion the punishment to the crime of the offender. All human laws are founded upon this principle. According to the greatness of his crime and the degree of guilt, a man will be given a light sentence in gaol or life-long confinement in a penitentiary.

What reason of itself would tell us, Revelation confirms. That there are different degrees of guilt in sin and that some sins, while displeasing indeed to God, are not deadly to the soul is evident from more than one passage of Scripture. Our Lord rebukes the Scribes because they “strain out a gnat and swallow a camel” (Matt. xxiii., 24). He compares some sins to a beam and others to a mote (Luke vi., 41). He declares that the sin of Judas was greater than that of Pilate (John xix., 11). St. James the Apostle wrote, “In many things we all offend” (iii., 2). Surely the Apostles and the saints of God did not sin seriously and often and “in many things.” St. James would not write in that matter of-fact way if those offences were not slight and of such a nature that a man falling into them even “seven times” may still be called “just” by the Holy Ghost (Prov. xxiv., 16).

It would seem, further, that a place of purgation is a necessity for most men if they are to be saved at all. Those who die wholly bad are banished forever from the Presence of God and delivered at once to eternal damnation; those who die wholly good are welcomed at once into the Presence of God and enjoy forever the sense and glory of eternal salvation. Only the wilfully wicked go to Hell; only the perfectly perfect go to Heaven. But what about those who are neither altogether good nor altogether bad, who leave this life soiled with slight sin? That, let us hope, will take in the most of us. On the word of God, absolutely nothing defiled may enter into Heaven (Wisd. vii., 25; Hab. i., 3; Apoc. xxi., 27). If such are to be saved at all, it can only be in a place and through a process of purgation, which the Christian Church has ever called Purgatory.In the words of St. Paul, there are sins for which “he shall suffer loss, but he himself shall be saved; yet so as by fire” (1 Cor. iii., 15). At the time of Our Lord there was such a place or prison, and there were souls in it, because in times past they”had been incredulous” (1 Peter iii., 20). Yet they were just souls, for to them the soul of Christ descended immediately after His death on the Cross, that He might announce to them the glad news of their ransom and redemption. Then, too, recall that other word of warning of Our Lord, reminding man of that prison from which He says, “Thou shalt not go out from thence until thou repay the last farthing” (Matt. v., 26; comp. Luke xii., 59). This is exactly what the Church understands by Purgatory.

That those who are detained in that prison of Purgatory can be relieved by the prayers and good works of the living has always been the belief of God’s people. The practice of praying for the dead is plainly taught in the Old Testament, and to this day piously practised by the Hebrew race. “And making a gathering, he sent twelve thousand drachmas of silver to Jerusalem for sacrifice to be offered for the sins of the dead, thinking well and religiously concerning the resurrection.” (2 Mach. xii., 43.) So thought our brethren of the old dispensation. Concerning the belief of the early Christians, we can do nothing better than bring you the testimony of St. Augustine. He relates that, when his mother was at the point of death she beckoned him to her bedside and said tohim, “Son, when I am dead, lay this body anywhere; let not the care of it in any way disturb you. This only do I request of you, that, wherever you be, you remember me at the Altar of the Lord.” And that pious son then prays most earnestly for the soul ofhis dear departed mother, saying, “O God of my heart, I do beseech Thee for the sins of my mother. Through the medicine of the wounds that hung upon the wood, hear me and heal her. Have mercy on her, O Lord, and inspire my brethren, that as many as shall read these words may remember at Thy altar, Monica, my mother” (Conf. ix., 27). Thus cried out the soul of a saint fifteen hundred years ago. No monument of marble, no mountain of cut flowers, no mere memorial service can soothe the sorrowing heart of man in the sight of his beloved dead. We stand by the open grave and see lowered into the earth the last remains of our loved ones; instinctively, we turn our eyes to Heaven, and with a heart full of faith and confidence, repeat that consoling prayer of the Church:

May his (or her) soul, and the souls of all the faithful departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace. Amen.

IN WHAT WAY DOES PURGATORY DIFFER FROM HELL?

Purgatory differs from Hell widely and in many ways. The essential note of distinction between the two states is found in the fact that Hell is permanent and eternal, while Purgatory is passing and temporary. The soul made for God and drawn to God as steel is drawn to a magnet, realising at last that its one and only happiness consists in possessing God, in Hell is banished from God eternally and deprived of the beatifying Presence of Him Who alone can make it happy. This sense of privation, this eternal loss of God is the greatest misfortune that can befall the soul of man. The souls in Purgatory likewise are not permitted to see God. The souls in Purgatory, however, are saved souls. Knowing that their exile from Paradise is for a time only, they live in eager expectation of the blessed day when they will be admitted to the beatifying Presence and Possession of God. The damned in Hell live eternally in despair, without hope or love; the saved in Purgatory live in hope and suffer in love, knowing that their time of purgation is but temporal, and that as soon as they are free from the least stain of sin they will be permitted to enter into the eternal happiness. In eternity there are but two permanent states, Heaven and Hell. Purgatory will come to an end with the end of time.

WHAT SOULS GO TO PURGATORY?

There is only one key that opens the gates of Heaven and gives man a real right to eternal reward, and that one key is the possession of Divine Grace without spot or scar. The soul that appears before God in the state of Divine Grace without the least sin or stain of sin upon it is admitted at once into Heaven. The soul that appears before God in the state of Divine Grace free from grievous sin, but still soiled with slight sin, or carrying a debt of temporal punishment for sins that have been forgiven and for which full satisfaction has not yet been made, must retire to Purgatory until it has properly prepared itself for the company of the saints and the countenance of God.

Temporal punishment due to sin that has been forgiven -what is meant by that? We distinguish two things in sin, guilt and punishment. The removal of the one does not necessarily imply the removal of the other. The Scriptures tell us that God pardoned Adam his sin of disobedience; and yet in penance and punishment Adam had to earn his bread in the sweat of his brow and ultimately undergo death. And thus it is with every sin. Besides the forgiveness of the guilt and eternal punishment due to sin, there always remains some temporal punishment left for us to do. This temporal punishment may be performed in this life by means of prayer, penance, suffering, fasting, alms deeds, and the like. If this temporal punishment is not taken care of fully in this world, then it must be made good in the next, before the soul that is otherwise in Grace can claim admittance into the Presence of God. By way of illustration, take the case of a man who has neglected his duties as a Christian for many years. He is pardoned on his deathbed, but has no time to do further penance for his sins. But penance must be done either here or hereafter. He cannot do it in Heaven; he has escaped Hell. There must be some other place, then, in which the requisite penance may be performed, and that place we call Purgatory. Since many people, then, die in slight sin and others die without having fully paid the debt of temporal punishment due to their sins, it is only logical as well as scriptural to conclude that there must be an intermediate place of purgation in the next world where these sins may be expiated and this punishment completed.

HOW LONG WILL THE SOUL HAVE TO REMAIN IN PURGATORY?

The soul consigned to Purgatory will have to remain there until the Justice of God is fully satisfied. Indeed, this would be a fair definition of Purgatory-a place where the injustice of man is adjusted to the Justice of God, to the Justice of God tempered by the Love of God.

To this we might add another thought—namely, that Purgatory is also a place where the injustice of man to man may be readjusted. Referring to this subject in one of his radio addresses, Dr. Sheen remarks, “Most men are quite unconscious of the injustice and the ingratitude of their lives, until the cold hand of death is laid upon one whom they love. Then only do they begin to realise something of the coldness, and unkindness, and lack of love in their lives. The bitterest tears are shed over the grave just because of words left unsaid and deeds left undone. The child never knew how much I loved her. He never knew how much he meant to me. I never knew how dear she was to me until she was gone. How differently we would act if the dear departed one could come back again. But our regrets are too late; they are in vain. Oh, no. They are neither too late nor in vain. The place we call Purgatory enables hearts that are left behind to break the barriers of time, to manifest a love that is stronger than death, to convert unspoken words into audible prayers, unburned incense into sacrifice, unoffered flowers into alms, and undone acts of kindness into help for eternal life. Take away Purgatory and how meaningless would be our memorial and armistice days, when we keep in memory the memory of the dead. Take away Purgatory, and how empty our wreaths, our bowed heads, our moments of silence. But if there be a Purgatory, then immediately the bowed head gives way to the bent knee, the moment of silence to a moment of prayer, the wreath of faded flowers to the offering of the unfailing Sacrifice of the Cross. Only the Christian can fully appreciate what all this means to the broken heart of man.

HOW CAN WE HELP THE SOULS IN PURGATORY?

“It is therefore a holy and wholesome thought to pray for the dead, that they may be loosed from sins.” (2 Mach. xii., 46.) In keeping with this principle of prayer, we Catholics follow our beloved dead beyond the veil. We know that in life they were human and may have been guilty of many little faults that will not stand the scrutiny of an all-holy God. But we know, too, that God in His goodness has devised an intermediate state of purgation, where those who die free from mortal sin, but still not entirely ready for that place wherein nothing defiled may enter, may prepare and perfect themselves for the all-holy Presence of God. Knowing all this, and knowing, too, that our prayers can hasten for them that happy day, we have Masses said for them and beg God to apply to them in unbounded measure the merits of the crucified Christ; we offer up our own good works and seek to gain indulgences with the same end in view; we pray unceasingly that God in His mercy may grant them speedily eternal rest and peace and glory. What comfort and consolation all this to the griefstricken soul of man! Alfred Tennyson, though not a Catholic, has caught the spirit of the Church and expressed her mind on this matter in the following beautiful words:

“ I have lived my life, and that which I have done

May He within Himself make pure ,But thou,

If thou shouldst never see my face again,

Pray for my soul. More things are wrought by prayer

Than this world dreams of. Wherefore thy voice

Rise like a fountain for me night and day.

For what are men better than sheep and goats

That nourish a blind life within the brain,

If, knowing God, they lift not hands in prayer

Both for themselves and those who call them friends?

For so, the whole round earth is every way

Bound by chains of gold about the feet of God.

-”Morte d’Arthur.”

Nihil obstat:

F. MOYNIHAN,

Censor Deputatus.

Imprimatur:

@ D. MANNIX,

Archiepiscopus MeIbournensis. 10/2/1942

********

After The Whirlwind?

PART ONE

INDEX

You want a New Order, don’t you? . . .

The right kind of New Order.

After the whirlwind of war and chaos you want peace, justice, order . . . It all has you thinking hard. You want a world in which you can go about your business in peace, in which your children can grow up to love God and live as decent citizens, in which there won’t be slums or hate or unemployment on a gigantic scale, in which you can behave as a Christian without feeling you are an old-fashioned eccentric. . . .

Who is going to make this new world you want so much?

Are you going to leave it to the politicians?. . . . You remember what they did after the last war. (But don’t blame them: we elected them.)

Are you going to leave it to the pagans: the Left-Wing professors, the millionaire newspaper owners? Are you going to leave it to the Socialists? . . . It doesn’t matter which branch.

National Socialists, Fascists, State Socialists-they’re all the same in the long run . . .

Do you expect the Pope to do it all for you?. . . . Just one frail man in the Vatican. . . . the Bishops?-after all, their job is to help you for the next life rather than the present; the priests ? . . . they have more than enough to do -preaching, saying Mass, visiting, studying. Any way, the building of a New Order is your job, not theirs.

WHOM HAVE WE LEFT? ONLY YOU

Yes! that’s what we’ve come too—If you don’t start to build the Christian New Order it won’t be built at all.

You’re willing to do what you can? You realise that, as one who has received the Sacrament of Confirmation, you are obliged to be a”soldier of Christ” and to take up the sword when He calls on you.

But . . .”you don’t see how you can do anything; you’re no genius, no inspiring personality, no gifted organiser.”

Nevertheless, you are prepared to do something . . . but what?

Here is a suggestion. . . .

THE JOB TO BE DONE

There are two general obstacles to this ideal world we all want to create:

Our own ignorance, selfishness and laziness as individual men and women;

The environment in which we live-our habits, inborn prejudices, cravings, customs-the traditions and institutions we have inherited from our ancestors. It is impossible to separate these two.

No individual is sufficient to himself; he must live some kind of social life. He can ‘t help influencing others; they can’t help influencing him.

So any improvement in INDIVIDUALS means to some extent an improvement in the ENVIRONMENT . . . also anything that makes the environment more or less Christian will tend to make the individuals in it more or less Christian.

This is obvious enough-but most reformers shoot right or left of the target.

We have to make men better-and we have to make their environment better. And we must do both jobs together and at the same time. No use leaving one until the other is finished.

To perform this double task, the NATIONAL MOVEMENTS OF CATHOLIC ACTION have come into existence.

PART TWO

THE EXISTING MOVEMENTS IN AUSTRALIA, 1942

First, you want to know,”How can I tell what is Catholic Action and what is not?”

Briefly, a Catholic Action work is a work which a person does as a member of a recognised Catholic Action Organisation.

It is not merely a question of the NATURE of the work you do; it is a question of the CAPACITY in which you do it.

To say three Hail Marys for the Missions, to give sixpence to a poor man, to go to Communion at Easter, are actions which you do as a private individual.

Similarly, charity which you dispense as a member of a St. Vincent de Paul Society, missions you attend with the parish confraternity, have nothing to do with Catholic Action though these works are, of course, of the highest value in themselves.

If, however, you pray for the success of some object which your Movement has in mind; if you attend a general Communion as a member of the Movement; if you induce new members to join its ranks; if you subscribe sixpence towards its funds; if you take part in its campaigns, then you are doing Catholic Action.

The point is, then, that to do Catholic Action you must belong to a recognised Catholic Action Movement. Catholic Action is essentially an INSTITUTION, a definite THING, a body established for a definite purpose which you must JOIN. It is not something which you can do on your own.

THE LARGE SPECIALISED MOVEMENTS

A brief word should be said about each

(1) The National Catholic Rural Movement caters for the whole of the Rural community-men and women, boys and girls. At the moment, its membership is confined mainly to men, but other sections are growing. This movement began by the setting up of a number of small rural groups, who eventually drew up a more complete programme. In February, 1940, this movement held its first National Conference at Xavier College. It was highly successful. During 1941 there was an inspiring series of Diocesan Conferences called by the Bishops at Rockhampton, Lismore, Wagga, Ballarat, Warrnambool, Wangaratta, and Adelaide. These conferences have paved the way for the official establishment, of the Movement in these Dioceses. The Rural Movement has its own popular paper,”Rural Life,” and is controlled by a National Executive, presided over by the Most Rev. F. A. Henschke, D.D., Bishop of Wagga.

(2) The National Catholic Girls ‘ Movement. Next came the turn of the girls. For years they had formed and run their own groups-usually without any official assistance-had worked on their own lines and in comparative isolation. The coming of the Ladies of the Grail introduced a new spirit and technique, and the courses they gave at the Grail Houses in Sydney and Melbourne were a fresh source of inspiration. The courage, gaiety and enthusiasm of these girl leaders quickly won for them supporters in all States.

The National Movement has now been established. Most Rev. E. Gleeson, D.D., Bishop of Maitland, is the chairman of its National Executive. It is operating in the greatest harmony with the Ladies of the Grail-whose special task is to train the leaders at the”Quest” and at the Summer Schools. It has its own Bulletin for Leaders, “The Beacon,” and its popular magazine,”Torchlight.” It is a movement for young girls in the cities and larger towns between the ages of fourteen and twenty-five.

(3) The Young Christian Workers ‘ Movement is for young lads in cities and large towns aged between fourteen and twenty-five, or (where the Catholic Young Men’s Society is officially established) for lads between fourteen and eighteen years. This movement has grown up spontaneously in most of the larger cities, and so great is the enthusiasm of the young lads who are being prepared for leadership, that it should not be long before their ambition is fulfilled, to have their own National Organisation.

(4) The Catholic Young Men’s Society has received, in the Archdioceses of Melbourne and Adelaide, a”provisional mandate” to organise Catholic Action for young men between the ages of eighteen to thirty. There are C.Y.M.S. branches also in other dioceses.

For many years the C.Y.M.S. performed a most valuable task in keeping young Catholic men together in a Catholic atmosphere-providing them with sport, debating, and a host of other activities. It is now beginning to move into the more vital work of the apostolate, for which it is now actively engaged in training leaders.

(5) The National Christian Workers ‘ Movement. The Bishops have expressed the wish that an organisation should be set up for Adult Workers; those aged over thirty or married. The National Christian Workers’ Movement has been started in Melbourne and other places. Its main object is to build up Catholic life in the homes of the workers, to collaborate in the Christian programme for Social Justice, and to enable workers-by mutual co-operation in Credit Unions, Co-operatives, and other organisations-to assist themselves materially and socially.

(6) Professional Groupings. There are many other smaller specialised bodies growing up for men and women in special vocations; for lawyers, journalists, doctors, teachers, chemists, engineers, and so on. Naturally these will develop slowly, but they are of the utmost importance.

For these people are of considerable standing in the community. Their professional training, their prestige, their wide practical experience, give them an influence which, for good or evil, must always be considerable.

They are usually more easily attracted to professional organisations, because they feel they enable them to get to grips with realities and to solve many practical problems which beset them in their daily lives.

(7) Women. Another field of effort receiving much attention is that of the married women. In many places have been formed groups of married women, who are preparing themselves to build up Catholic organisations for the greet mass of women. They have a practical programme of active assistance to mothers, giving them greater opportunity for Catholic social life, helping them with advice in home management and child welfare, enabling them to voice their opinion on all the problems affecting mothers to-day.

(8) Students. Catholic Action in Australia began among University Students. Students come and go so quickly from a University that it is not easy to organise them effectively, and during their academic year they have not much time to spare from their studies. Nevertheless, at every University there is much activity and considerable planning for the future in the Catholic Student societies.

(9) Schools. Finally, Catholic Action is growing in the schools, and fresh experiments are being tried for programmes to suit school conditions. On the Continent, the Schools’ Movements are a very important and a vital section of Catholic Action, and undoubtedly they will soon become equally important in Australia.

THE SPECIAL WORKS

There are also other important works of Catholic Action which maybe described as”Special Works.” Special Works are set up when small groups of people come together to perform a job requiring ability of a highly technical nature and special concentration on one object. Examples are the Catholic Evidence Guild, which gives addresses in public on the Faith; the Therry Society, which studies the drama; the Paraclete Arts Group, for painters, musicians, writers, etc.; the Campion Society, for young men who wish to make a thorough study of History, Social Justice, and modern affairs.

The recently-formed Catholic Literature Crusade is planning the effective sale and distribution of Catholic papers and pamphlets-scientifically organised by vigorous Parish Press Units.

The leaders of these”special works” do not attempt to rally round them a large mass of people, nor is their field spread over the whole of life. They take one job and concentrate on it.

The Legion of Mary is closely associated with Catholic Action and performs most valuable work in its compact, highly-organised groups, whose members make direct contacts with individuals needing spiritual aid, or undertake tasks of peculiar difficulty. Its ideals and methods have been described in various A. . . . . pamphlets.

PART THREE

Each one of these movements attempts, in its particular environment, to deal with the whole problem described at the beginning of this pamphlet.

The Problem may be stated simply: HOW CAN WE MAKE INDIVIDUALS MORE CHRISTIAN?

HOW CAN WE MAKE THE ENVIRONMENT MORE CHRISTIAN?

Obviously there are three things needed

(1) To educate the individual so that he knows what he ought to do and knows exactly what is wrong with the world at present;

(2) To help the individual to overcome the handicaps which his environment provides and to help him to make the best use of his existing resources;

(3) To combine the efforts of those who wish to fight for the Kingship of Christ, so that they fight as an army and not as a rabble.

A little over twelve years ago a small group of priests and workers in Belgium were facing a situation which seemed quite hopeless. . . . The young workers-boys and girls-coming out from Catholic schools with an excellent elementary education had scarcely left the gate of the school when they fell victims to the concentrated fire of the big guns of paganism. . . . Slums, dirt, disease, immorality, despair and hatred were rotting their bodies, their minds and their souls . . . Every day Communism and Socialism were gaining ground, revolution seemed just around the corner. . . .

This group of people decided that a completely new method was necessary to meet a completely new situation. Working from the hard facts of real life, taking nothing for granted, being willing to adapt any pre-conceived ideas, they evolved a technique and formed a Movement-the”J.O.C.”which achieved miracles. Pope Plus XI. did not hesitate to call it a”finished type,” a kind of blue print for everyone to copy. . . . He could have given it no higher praise.

From these men we can learn a great deal!

The great founders of the J.O.C. set out to make a New Order for young workers. Any organisation which wanted to do this, they maintained, had to provide three things.

“The J.O.C.,” says the great Canon Cardijn, “is a School, a Service, and a Representative Body.” How closely this fits in with what is needed here!

1. A SCHOOL

It is the great tragedy of the modern world that, despite all the efforts of Christians to maintain their own system of schools, so many young people who have been trained with such love and care seem unable to stand up for Christ in the hurly-burly of life.

This is puzzling and annoying. The most obvious reaction is to blame our schools. That is not just. The school has done everything in its power to produce strong and active Christians.

The overwhelming disaster is that the influence of the school ceases precisely at the moment when it is most needed. It is at the point when the student enters REAL LIFE, when the young lad goes into the factory, the University student starts in his profession, the country lad goes on to the farm, that he most needs education . . . but his education has ceased.

So we need a type of education that will go on for the rest of life. Not necessarily an education from books or in theories-but an education none the less. By this is meant an acquired series of ideas, of facts, of truths, which will enable YOU-the worker, or farmer, or lawyer-to see clearly the purpose of your life, of all your activities . . . to put first things first . . . to leave trifles in the background . . . to get the most out of yourself and your opportunities.

OLD-FASHIONED METHODS WILL NOT DO

It must be an education adapted to the needs of each type and class. The lawyer needs something almost entirely different both in content and method from the mechanic. The farmer has to deal with an entirely different set of practical problems from the sailor. Yet all must be catered for.

SPECIALISATION

The older method of Catholic organisation had been to bring together people without taking into account differences in education, or in means of earning a living, lumping together rich or poor, the worker and his employer. Sooner or later this general type of organisation broke down. What was a real and vital issue to one section was of merely theoretical interest to another. Old people were sceptical of the enthusiastic ideas of the youth-and the younger members felt stifled by the fixed notions of their seniors. For these reasons the old”general” kinds of society eventually died out.

The J.O.C. made history. It confined its efforts to one special grouping: the Young Christian Workers. It refused to concern itself with anybody except working lads in the cities aged between fourteen and twenty-five.

This idea has been widely imitated and specialisation is the method laid down by the Holy Father. . . . Let each section of the community be responsible for the salvation of its own members.

The advantages from the point of education are obvious. Each section can be given an education exactly suited to its own needs. A Farmers’ Organisation does not have to bother its members about details of industrial life and can concentrate on rural problems. It can make a”study” of things about which its members already know a great deal- because they are part of their ordinary lives.

Now the usual method of Education is to proceed to establish some general principles and then to work out their consequences. This is attractive to the scholar-that is why many leaders have used it. They have relied on lectures and books and Study Clubs.

But the average man does not learn truth in this fashion. General propositions make no appeal to him unless he can see them in reality as applied to his own life. After a while people get tired of the lectures and the reading of books, because they feel that it is all impractical, and does not concern their daily lives.

ENQUIRY

The J.O.C. tried another experiment. They STARTED BY GETTING AT THE FACTS. They said to their young people:”Now, before you do anything else, have a look at the world you are living in. You say you want to help the young workers. Do you know anything about the young workers? Do you know what wages they get, what conditions they work under, what holidays they receive? Do you know whether they can save for marriage, for old age, for illness? What things amuse them, what things disgust them? What qualities do they look for in their leaders? In what things do they require help? Now don’t give us ready-made answers; go and find out for yourselves.”

So the leaders had to go out and talk to their comrades and gradually acquire information on all the problems that crop up in the young worker’s life. When the facts had been collected, the workers came back and talked over the facts and asked themselves:

What state of affairs does this show? Is it satisfactory or not? What does the Church say about it? Why does the Church say that?”

Thus they came to study the doctrine of the Church in precise and exact relations to an actual problem, and they saw how important it is to know what the Church says, and how right the Church is on all these matters. They saw that religion touches ordinary life at every point-and that itself is surely the essence of Christian education.

From this they conclude:”Now here is a grievous situation which is imperilling the souls and bodies of our fellowworkers. What plan shall we draw up immediately to remedy it?” Then they proceed to action.

You don’t have to prepare lectures or talk at them: you simply get them to talk to you. They learn to see and to judge- without strain or self-consciousness. By their own efforts they learn what is right and wrong with their environment: why there is war and disease and unemployment and unhappy home-life.

Not that the Enquiry method is the only one-or that it alone is sufficient. The Enquiry needs to be supplemented by lectures, by reading, by Retreats, by special courses. . . . What has been established is this:

“Leave Catholics alone and they can’t make the effort to continue education after school, but bring them together in friendly groups, get them to realise that they alone can change the world, show them how this can be done-and they are changed.

“They have been educated. There is the first obstacle overcome.

“Here are methods we have been looking for-methods equally useful for lawyer or mechanic, farmer or sailor, for men and women, boys and girls.”

2. SERVICES

It is not enough, obviously, merely to show a man what ought to be done. We must show him HOW to do it. It is not enough that he should see that his environment is wrong and should be changed. We must show him how to change it.

Practically all of us have urgent material and social needs which we just cannot cone with alone. The young worker of eighteen who has lost his job and sees no prospect of another is going to find it hard to keep his religious faith. The farmer who sees the work of years thrown away by economic forces beyond his control and himself reduced to a state of semislavery will find it hard to practise the virtues of the Christian life. The mother of the working-class family, whose husband cannot get regular work and who has not enough to feed and clothe her growing family, can easily fall into a state of mind in which it will not be difficult to persuade her to the use of birth control devices.

There are two possible ways out of this problem of economic want. The first is the Socialist way. If the State were to take over agriculture and industry and dole out to every person sufficient for their ordinary needs, it might be possible to make the economic pressure bearable. Christians and free men, however, would never be happy under such a dictatorship.

The only alternative is for Christians faced with these problems to come together and by co-operative and mutual action try to solve them. Where there is a need they must provide some kind of Service to satisfy that need.

It is because they provided such”Services” that the J.O.C. and similar organisations in Europe were so successful. This is how you come to set up a Service.

If the Central Council of your Movement has an urgent problem brought under its notice, it does not rush into action. It says:”Let us first get the facts.” Thus it draws up a list of questions upon which exact information is required. This list is sent out to every local branch, and the leaders go about collecting the required information from their associates and acquaintances (as in the”Enquiry”).

Reports from the local branches come back to your National Headquarters, where they are gone through thoroughly, and a final report is drawn up, embodying the results. This report will show:

THE EXTENT OF THE EVIL;

THE REASON WHY THIS EVIL EXISTS AND GROWS-AND

THE SUGGESTED CURE

Your Council will then decide that a certain remedy must be applied and an organisation is set up to apply it. This may be described as the establishment of a service.

Here are some examples of economic services which have been set up by Catholic Organisations in other lands, and many of which are now being organised in Australia.

CREDIT UNIONS

Something has to be done everywhere for the working man, or the farmer whose income is just enough for daily needs, but who, through unemployment, illness in the family or some other misfortune, may need to borrow a comparatively small sum of money. Having no security, he cannot get it from the bank, he must, therefore, normally, go to moneylenders, and pay high interest rates. Very often he is thus made a permanent debtor and utterly impoverished. In many parts of Europe, in French Canada, and in the United States magnificent work has been done by the tens of thousands of Parish Credit Unions, whereby wage-earners club together-putting their own contributions to a common fund-and are permitted to draw out loans for urgent necessities, paying only a minimum rate of interest on the loan.

SAVINGS SCHEMES

There is a similar problem with the young working lads. Few of them ever think of saving money until the question of marriage arises directly. At twenty-four or twenty-five years of age they have not a penny to buy furniture and equip the little home. They have to go and get these on hire-purchase or time-payment schemes, and thus put a mill-stone of debts around their necks for years.

The J.O.C. started Savings Schemes whereby the members of J.O.C. units were encouraged to contribute small amounts weekly which were put into a common fund on their behalf. When they wished to start in a business or get married they had, perhaps, a hundred or a hundred and fifty pounds to begin with.

TECHNICAL ADVICE

Many farmers have lost past opportunities through lack of technical knowledge of modern methods of farming. They cultivate the wrong crop, or do not use the best fertilisers, or have inefficient machines. Many are sunk in conservative methods, and do not know where to ask advice. Many Catholic Organisations, like the U.C.C. in Canada, and the J.A.C. in France, have done wonderful work in providing expert instructors and special publications which could not be obtained anywhere else.

HOUSEHOLD MANAGEMENT

Affecting the working-class wife is the vital question of keeping the home on a very modest budget. The utmost economy is needed. Very often the young wife cannot cook, make her own dresses, or manage a household efficiently.

So the Grail and other movements for years have organised classes whereby for a few pence a week all those who desire may learn simple home cooking, simple dressmaking, and the normal handicrafts required for domestic management. These services have had an enormous influence for good.

VOCATIONAL GUIDANCE

Take now some social services.

A cause of much hidden but very acute unhappiness is the lack of preparation of our youth for their future life. Young boys and girls leave school and take the first job offered to them, without any consideration of how far it is suitable. Some toil away at uncongenial work for the rest of their lives. Some find their health breaking down. Others are wasting their talents at drudgery. Others, again, get into dead-end jobs and find themselves dismissed, untrained and unfitted for anything else. From such come our criminals and our revolutionaries.

Many Catholic Action organisations meet this problem just when the children are leaving school by encouraging them to come to their Vocational Guidance Bureaux-not only give them advice about careers and show them what is offering, but also get them suitable jobs.

HOLIDAY CAMPS

In the United States and other countries has arisen the menace of holiday camps. Young people often cannot afford the expenses of boarding houses or”conducted tours.” To have a holiday at all, they must go to a large camp. Communists and other pagan organisations made capital use of this to get young Catholics into these camps and to damage their Faith.

Now there are many Catholic organisations providing cheap and attractive holiday camps for youth, and thus fulfilling a very definite want.

There is almost no end to the number and variety of services that can be provided.

The J.O.C. have a slogan:”A Service for Every Need.” It may be to provide simple instruction and practice in ballroom dancing for youngsters who are nervous and timid about their first appearance on dance floors . . . to form Catholic Film Societies to give advice on the films worth seeing.

Catholic Dramatic Societies give an opening for those who are determined to create a new type of dramatic art on Christian lines. Some tackle, as did the Canadian Young Christian Workers, the tremendous problem of juvenile crime at its source-in the degradation of the slum home . . . or provide proper medical and legal advice for those who are too ignorant or too careless to go to the trouble themselves . . . or run a class in Home Nursing for mothers of young families.

These organisations help the individual to overcome the inertia, the prejudice, or the hostility of the conditions by which he is surrounded. They help him to do for himself (and always with his own help) the things he could not do unaided.

It is also essential to emphasise that while Catholic Action does try by mutual self-help to improve the material conditions of its members to fit them to be more efficient at their jobs, to encourage them to take their proper part in public life, it is not to be used, and has not been used, as a means of pushing Catholics into positions by means of intrigue and improper influence.

However, the services are a most important means of showing the average person who may not be attracted from more noble motives, the practical self-help which should be a feature of true Christian charity. The services provide the modern interpretation of the old saying:”See how these Christians love one another!” They provide a first-class lesson in genuine Christian co-operation . . . because they are run by the Movement itself-are not something provided from outside by well-meaning sympathisers. Thus people, particularly young people, learn to stand on their own feet, not to run away from responsibility, and not to lean on Governments or other public bodies for everything they require.

3. A REPRESENTATIVE BODY

The services are tremendously important, but they are, after all, mainly palliatives. They do make modem life more bearable; they are not enough in themselves.

For society to be really reconstructed something more fundamental and more widespread is necessary. We have to tackle the great social problems which affect the whole nation, and therefore can be solved by a national effort.

Thus our great Christian Movement for a New Order must remove one serious cause of Christian weakness: the isolation of individuals and the isolation of scattered organisations. The great problems of today cannot be all solved in a parish, or in a diocese, or in a State. National campaigns which unite the efforts of every organisation of the kind in Australia must be undertaken.

In most of these problems even a strong Catholic body alone cannot remedy the evil. What it must do generally is to place before the Government, or other public body, the existence of a set of facts with their underlying causes, and recommend a method of treatment. It is then for the Government or the public body to take whatever action they see necessary.

NO POLITICS

In this way a Catholic organisation, while dealing with social affairs, can keep right apart from politics to bring about its end. IT DOES NOT RESORT TO POLITICAL PROPAGANDA to bring any political section of the community to its aid. Nor does it concern itself with the DETAILS whereby the solution is to be put into operation.

The Popes have insisted since the foundation of this Movement it must keep itself absolutely apart from politics. This warning, you remember, has been repeated dozens of times in our own country by authorities on Catholic Action, and again in emphatic terms by the Episcopal Committee in its recent Statement.

No Catholic Action leader may be a leader in a political movement. Politics may never be discussed at the meetings of Catholic Action. Nor may the support of any individual political party be used to further Catholic Action projects-or vice versa.

On the other hand, by acting as a representative body, Catholics more clearly rebut the charge of being merely “academic about physical suffering and uninterested in practical reform.”

PAID HOLIDAYS

One example of such an effort was provided by the French J.O.C. on the question of paid holidays for workers. Many millions of French workers did not get any regular holidays. It was a social evil, and yet was neglected by most public bodies as being too difficult to handle.

The J.O.C. spent a year in collecting information, showing clearly from every point of view the harm being done by the lack of proper rest. It collected statistics showing the effects on the health of the workers, the slowing down of production, the cost of medical treatment and of social services. Then it said in effect, to the Government:”Now here is the situation; we have given you some vital details which speak for themselves, and it is for you to do something about it.” The Government was then forced into action: the facts were too strong; the paid holiday became the rule rather than the exception.

JUVENILE CRIME

Another famous example is the Prisoners’ Assistance Scheme of the Canadian Y.C.W. It is composed of the following departments: The Juvenile Court Service, the Police Court Service, the Higher Courts Service, the Prisoners’ Aid Society, the Shelter for Destitute Youth. The services handled in the years 1937–38 some 10,000 to 15,000 cases of juvenile delinquency. On good authority it was declared that only some 2 to 10% of the young people handled could not be won from their bad habits.

No wonder that the members of the Canadian J.O.C. rose within a few years from a few score to some 50,000.

In Australia there are many great problems which can only be attacked in this manner. There is the problem of Farmers’ Debts, of the drift from the country to the town, of juvenile crime, of women in industry, of the living wage itself, of race suicide, of providing a system of education which gives a true preparation for life.

If we are not ready to provide a Christian solution, there are plenty of others prepared to provide a pagan solution.

THE RIGHT SOLUTION -THROUGH CATHOLIC ACTION

We have answered the question we asked ourselves at the start:”Where shall we find a method that will enable ordinary men and women to find out what is wrong with the world and with themselves, and how to change themselves and change the world?”

We have the method: it is the method of CATHOLIC ACTION, arrived at after a thousand experiments. It is a tested method, one working in every land, approved over and over by Popes, Bishops, clergy and experienced lay leaders.

And it’s a simple method. No one of you can say:”It is too complicated or too mysterious for me,” or “It requires more ability and education than I have got,” or “It wouldn’t work among the people I mix with.”

No wonder that Pope Plus XI. with his unrivalled knowledge of world affairs and what the twentieth century needed- said of this method:”It MUST be followed.”

No wonder that he said of the movement that used such methods:”Without Catholic Action it would be a miracle-a miracle one cannot ask of God-if any practical result or any true success were obtained” (in the restoration of social life.)

This helps to explain, too, why it is necessary to have a NEW organisation. The older associations were formed to meet a different sort of attack; they were not at all equipped to meet the enemy of today, with his modern armament.

PART FOUR

METHODS OF ORGANISATION

We have now seen what are the Catholic Action Movements. We must next ask: “How do these Movements do their work?” “How does one come to play an active part in them?”

Catholic Action is a movement which relies on GROWTH rather than on high pressure salesmanship and hustling. It can only begin when a group of laymen, realising their vocation in their own world, come together and decide that they must do something practical. They get in touch with the Headquarters of one of the Catholic Action Movements and obtain a supply of literature which sets out the objects and methods of the Movement.

PREPARATION ESSENTIAL

Then, if they are all members of the same parish, they will see the Parish Priest, ask for his permission to start work in the parish, and request him to help in their formation. Next they must go through a period of preparation lasting for at least six months, and may then apply for affiliation with the main Movement.

Without this LIVING CELL of leaders, no further growth can come. We do not attempt to set up a large organisation anywhere until it has a trained staff ready That is why its progress must necessarily be so SLOW. In some countries serious failures have followed the attempt to draw up and operate quickly grandiose plans which had no relation to facts, and which depended purely on the administrative abilities of one or two people at the head.

Leaders, as the Pope is always reminding us, must be FORMED, and this formation must be a complete, all-round training which fits them for every aspect of their job. In his pamphlet,”This is Catholic Action,” Mr. K. Mitchell has set out the essential methods of training, and they need not be elaborated here. Further, each Movement has its own Handbooks and Programmes, in which the details of training set out may be easily discovered and followed.

All we need realise here is that insistence is laid on the proper application of two words of the greatest value. They are, “Responsibility” and “Contact.”

RESPONSIBILITY

Responsibility means that those who are to command in these Movements should realise the tremendous importance of the position they hold. Catholic Action is a lay movement. True, it cannot function without the authority of the Bishops, and without the active co-operation and guidance of the priests. But it depends for its practical success on the initiative, energy, reliability, patience of its lay leaders.

They must be made to feel that responsibility from the beginning.

It must be pointed out to young workers-”You are the saviours of your own fellow-workers. You have something of incredible value to give them. In your factories, on your play-grounds, in your homes you have dozens of opportunities daily to get at these young fellows, show them the truth, give them new hope and purpose, raise them out of the mud of paganism. If you do not do this, no one will, because you alone have the opportunities.

“And, further, you must organise this Movement yourselves. You must make the speeches, run the meetings, draw up the programmes, plan the amusements, organise the services, edit the newspapers and bulletins, run the finances. It seems a lot to ask of young workers, but it has been done so often and on such a scale by lads who have never had more than a primary school education, that no one can now doubt its realities.”

CONTACT

Side by side goes the understanding of the word”Contact.” It is no use our having the knowledge and the truth unless we are in contact with others, and can pass it on to them direct. It is not enough simply to collect”the good boys of the parish” together and give them a better knowledge of the Faith. They must become APOSTLES-must pass it on to others.

Now this is not an easy task. The young leader who has not an intense personal love of Christ-together with tact, humour, patience-who has not been taught how to make the best use of his opportunities, will not be able to pass it on. If he preaches, or rants, or is not”normal,” he will be looked on as a freak and his words will be ignored.

Consequently, the whole purpose of the activities of his section-its prayers, its social functions, its inquiries, its general meetings, its services-are designed to bring together the militants in touch with many scores and hundreds of their own fellow-workers.

Contact must be PERSONAL. Merely to send out circulars or publish newspapers or make mass addresses is not enough. The leaders must be personal friends of those they wish to influence, must be liked and trusted by their fellows, must constantly meet them as friends and fellow-workers.

THE LARGE SCALE ORGANISATION-THE SECTION

When the Leaders’ Group has got its training-spiritual, cultural and practical-when it knows the problems of the neighbourhood and understands what practical remedies are needed, it forms a SECTION.

To do this it must have: (a) Contacted a number of people and got them interested; (b) Brought these people together at a General Meeting, at which the whole purpose of the Movement was explained; (c) Induced a sufficient number to become members and pay a small subscription. The Section may then apply for affiliation with the Diocesan Federation.

The Ordinary Members. For a start, no obligations are laid on them except to turn up to general meetings, to be loyal to the constitution of the Movement, and to pay a small subscription.

At the start, most ordinary members will not be in a mood to tie themselves down to regular practical action; but, if the effect of the general gatherings of the services is to make them feel the Movement is really doing something for them and is a dynamic organisation, in which they feel very much at home, they will continue to attend its functions and to seek the company of other members.

Thus the ATMOSPHERE OF THEIR LIVES will become more and more Catholic, and that is all one can expect for a start.

Very gradually their interest will grow stronger and brighter. They will see more clearly the suffering and distress of their fellows, and will be anxious to join in the attempts made by the Leaders’ Group to remove the causes of such misery. Thus you will find them turning up of their own account to Retreats and Days of Recollection, joining the sporting teams, reading Catholic pamphlets, taking a willing advantage of the services. . . . The whole level of their lives is being gradually raised.

Keep very clearly in mind the distinction between LEADERS and ORDINARY MEMBERS.

If you have the necessary qualities for leadership, you must be prepared to pray hard, train carefully, and make real sacrifices. You will have to live up to a high standard.

You may, however, be unable for various reasons to be a leader. That is no reason for not joining at all. It is from your support-and that of thousands like you-that the Movement will gain its”mass-strength,” receive funds to carry on, to set up services. Your part in the Campaign can be very powerful if in your ordinary life you make use of your opportunities of spreading the ideas the Movement is putting out.

ORGANISATION IN GENERAL

It is a first principle of Catholic Action that it is HIERARCHICAL in structure. That it consists of various”degrees”- each one rising higher than the last, and the lesser unit obeying the authority of the more important unit in all major matters.

So you have after:

(1) The Parish Section (as described above).

(2) The Diocesan Federation, with its own Council and Executive, which directs and supports all the parish units.

(3.) The National Federation, which decides national policy, edits publications, bulletins and popular magazines, and draws up the National Campaigns.

The Popes have constantly insisted on the need for national unity and organisation. Consequently, for Australia and New Zealand, the Bishops have established an Episcopal Committee of Catholic Action, whose work it is to bring about such unity and co-operation. The National Secretariat of Catholic Action exists to supply advice and information to the Bishops, and to carry out the decisions of the Episcopal Committee.

PART FIVE

THE WORK OF THE MOVEMENT

To understand what the Movement does when it is established, we return to our first point.

Catholic Action aims at changing the environment so that the individual within the environment may lead the full

Christian life.

Lead a full Catholic life!

Thus it must cater for the WHOLE of that individual’s life.

Now your life-as a normal man-may be divided into four aspects:

Religious. Intellectual. Social. Material.

At every point you are entitled to ask and receive generous aid from the Movement to which you belong.

RELIGIOUS INTERESTS

The ordinary member, who may have at first only a vague and half-hearted interest in his Faith, will receive considerable help in increasing that interest. At each General Meeting he will hear a talk from the Chaplain on some religious truth directly related to his own life as a worker or a farmer or a student, etc. Retreats are arranged on convenient terms: and these he is much more likely to attend when he sees dozens of his friends in the Movement giving him a lead. He is at all points brought under the influence of the leaders who, when properly trained, must necessarily radiate a powerful influence of genuine spirituality and Christian friendship.

INTELLECTUAL

The average young lad or girl will not come regularly to “lectures” even by the most eminent people. Social and religious problems under these conditions remain merely academic.

But, when, at a General Meeting, one of the leaders eloquently portrays the existence of a serious problem, revealed for the first time by an”Enquiry,” and the ordinary member realises that-in the next house, in the next street, at the next bench or desk-there are fellow-workers or fellow-students in urgent need of assistance-then that social problem becomes real and living.

Distressed by these revelations, what decent lad or girl will not passionately want to get to the root of it, to understand what false ideas have caused it, to know the mind of the Church about it? So will he or she acquire an intimate and rich knowledge of Catholic Philosophy, which would never have been acquired from books or lectures.

In a Students’ Movement, of course, or a Lawyers’ Guild, the intellectual side would receive much greater attention, and Study Groups would be set up as “services,” where scholars could, if they wish, make a complete intellectual investigation of the history of the Church and Catholic Apologetics or Social teaching.

It is most important that people make the best use of the LEISURE conferred them by modern science. The hours of freedom, when you glance at newspaper headlines or tune into a radio play, read through a popular novel, or a cheap reprint of a tabloid”outline of world affairs” are those in which your mental outlook is formed on most topics.

People have little inclination to work out fundamental theories for themselves: but they DO like to be in the fashion.

One of the vital jobs of a Catholic Action Organisation is to continue that education that so often ceases when one leaves the shelter of the school. It must try to make the cultural and intellectual background of its members solidly Catholic. By providing interesting speakers at General Meetings, by encouraging Catholic Libraries, the sale of . . . pamphlets, it can achieve miracles.

Even more important is the ATMOSPHERE created by the coming together of keen, intelligent Catholics-normally and intensely interested in the things of the Faith, anxious to get the Catholic angle on everything, aware of how the love of God and a knowledge of Catholic truth must enrich and suffuse their entire being,

SOCIAL

You hear complaints of the lack of the social virtues on the part of many Catholics. Newcomers to the parish are frequently ignored; converts are too often left to their own resources; hundreds of Catholics don’t know more than a few other Catholics in the same parish or occupation. Even when they are brought together there is often only a very faint note of true Catholic joy in the functions they organise.

For young girls in industrial suburbs, for young wives, for working lads, it is even necessary to organise social life on a completely now level. Generally they have no societies or clubs for their leisure time, and are forced to spend time and money on pleasures whose whole spirit is pagan. The Ladies of the Grail have shown us what a lovely and joyful social life can be built up for girls in the most simple and delightful manner-by its Guest Evenings, its basketball competitions, hiking groups, dances, dramatic and film groups.

If you have been to any of the social gatherings of the Grail-trained girls-listened to their joyous singing, seen their simple yet moving plays, watched their happy dances and games-you will have caught a vision of the fruit of the”full Catholic life,” as it may yet be if Catholic Action succeeds: happy, vigorous, chivalrous, purposeful. . . .

MATERIAL

What we have said about Services and Campaigns will have shown how deeply Catholic Action concerns itself in a practical way with the material needs of every section of the community.

THESE ARE THE THINGS THE MOVEMENT CAN DO FOR YOU

THE PRIEST

No attempt has been made in this work to indicate either the SPIRIT which should inform the lay apostles or the part of the priest in these lay organisations. This pamphlet is concerned entirely with the question of methods of organisation.

The vital work of the priest is to FORM APOSTLES. In this field, above all, he is quite indispensable. It has always been laid down in Catholic Action in Australia that no Leaders’ Group may be formed unless there is an assurance that the local parish authority will give it encouragement and assistance. All programmes drawn up assume that a priest will be present at most meetings. All leaders are recommended to discuss every matter of major policy with the parish priest or his representative.

One of the main objectives of Catholic Action is to supplement the work of the priest in the parish; to get in touch with those whom he has not time for or opportunity to meet and to bring them into closer touch with him.

YOUR SHARE IN THE WORK

You have seen what the movement can do for you. Now, what can you do for the movement?

This is an age of total warfare.

Nations no longer go into combat with small armies of highly-trained professionals. Every man-and almost every woman-is now a combatant.

Behind and beneath this gigantic drama of nations and parties there goes on another and even more vital struggle -the struggle for the souls of men. . . . Here, too, it is no longer a matter of using a few picked divisions against the Church of Christ: everything is thrown into the fray.

Now the Christian offensive has begun again. The whole weight of the available resources must be thrown into the decisive struggle which will shape the history of the world for centuries. So the last Pope sent out the command to train the reserves and make of them what the Pope calls the”valiant soldiers of Christ”: to make use of the initiative, the talents, the courage, the energy of the great mass of Christian people.

So the aim of Catholic Action is precisely the aim of the Church itself: to win the world for Christ. It does not merely defend: it CONQUERS.

It has a place for you. It is not necessary that you be a very devout or very intellectual person. It is designed-as you can see-for the average man and woman. And the Pope and the Bishops WANT YOU to be in it.

Here is your OBLIGATION. . . . What can you do?

Perhaps you are so ill-or perhaps you live in such a remote area that no organisation is possible. Then at least you can PRAY for the coming of the Kingdom of Christ.

Perhaps you are”too busy”-though saying you are too busy today is like refusing to put out a fire in the kitchen because you have some important letters to write! The whole of civilised life is collapsing-are you really too busy?

Perhaps Catholic Action has not started in your parish yet. Well, you can get in touch with your parish priest or the National Secretariat and see if a start could be made.

If you really want to join in the apostolic mission of the Church there’s really nothing to prevent you beginning to work NOW for Christ in your own world. .

AFTER THE WHIRLWIND-WHAT? More whirlwinds . . . or peace, justice, order. With the grace of God you can help to decide that issue.

Nihil obstat:

F. MOYNIHAN, Censor Deputatus.

Imprimatur:

@ D. MANNIX,

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis January 30, 1942.

********

Again Rome Has Spoken

THE CHURCH’S RULING ON THE MORAL OBLIGATIONS OF CATHOLICS. EXTRACTED FROM THE PAPAL ENCYCLICALS AND ARRANGED BY DOROTHY BLOUNT

INDEX

F O R E W O R D

This is a companion booklet to ROME HAS SPOKEN and sets forth the official ruling of the Church on matters of opinion as well as action on certain moral questions of present-day importance and controversy.

The previous pamphlet dealt with a selection on social and economic problems.

D. B

THE DUTIES OF CATHOLICS IN PRIVATE AND PUBLIC LIFE [FROM THE ENCYCLICAL “IMMORTALE DEI” OF LEO XIII, 1ST NOVEMBER, 1885]

“LIBERTIES.”

IF IN THE difficult times in which our lot is cast Catholics will give ear to Us, as it behoves them to do, they will readily see what are the duties of each one in matters of opinion as well as action. As regards opinion, whatever the Roman Pontiffs have hitherto taught, or shall hereafter teach, must be held with a firm grasp of mind, and so often as occasion requires, must be openly professed.

Especially with reference to the socalled “liberties” which are so greatly coveted in these days, all must stand by the judgment of the Apostolic See, and have the same mind. Let no man be deceived by the outward appearance of these liberties but let each one reflect whence these have their origin and by what efforts they are everywhere upheld and promoted. Experience has made us well acquainted with their results to the state, since everywhere they have borne fruits which the good and wise bitterly deplore. If there really exist anywhere or if we in imagination conceive a state waging wanton and tyrannical war against Christianity and if we compare with it the modern form of government just described, this latter may seem the more endurable of the two. Yet, undoubtedly, the principles on which such a government is grounded are, as We have said, of a nature which no one can approve.

IN PRIVATE AND PUBLIC LIFE

Secondly, action may relate to private and domestic matters or to matters public. As to private affairs, the first duty is to conform life and conduct to the Gospel precepts and to refuse to shrink from this duty when Christian virtue demands some sacrifice difficult to make. All, moreover, are bound to love the Church as their common mother, to obey her laws, promote the honour, defend her rights, and to endeavour to make her respected and loved by those over whom they have authority. It is also of great moment to the public welfare to take a prudent part in the business of municipal administration and to endeavour above all to introduce effectual measures, so that, as becomes a Christian people, public provision may be made for the instruction of youth in religion and true morality. Upon these things the well-being of every state greatly depends.

NATIONAL POLITICS

Furthermore, it is in general fitting and salutary that Catholics should extend their efforts beyond this restricted sphere and give their attention to national politics. We say in general because these Our precepts are addressed to all nations. However, it may in some places be true that, for most urgent and just reasons, it is by no means expedient for Catholics to engage in public affairs or to take an active part in politics. Nevertheless, as We have laid down, to take no share in public matters would be equally wrong (We speak in general) as not to have concern for, or not to bestow labour upon, the common good. And this all the more because Catholics are admonished, by the very doctrines which they profess, to be upright and faithful in the discharge of duty; while if they hold aloof, men whose principles offer but small guarantee for the welfare of the State will the more readily seize the reins of government. This would tend also to the injury of the Christian religion, forasmuch as those would come into power who are badly disposed towards the Church, and those who are willing to befriend her would be deprived of all influence.

THE GENUINE AND PUBLIC GOOD

It follows therefore clearly that Catholics have just reasons for taking part in the conduct of public affairs. For in so doing they assume not the responsibility of approving what is blameworthy in the actual methods of government, but seek to turn these very methods, so far as is possible, to the genuine and true public good and to use their best endeavours at the same time to infuse, as it were, into all the veins of the State the healthy sap and blood of Christian wisdom and virtue. The morals and ambitions of the heathens differed widely from those of the Gospel, yet Christians were to be seen living undefiled everywhere in the midst of pagan superstition, and while always true to themselves, coming to the front boldly wherever an opening was presented. Models of loyalty to their rulers, submissive, so far as was permitted, to the sovereign power, they shed around them on every side a halo of sanctity; they strove to be helpful to their brethren, and to attract others to the wisdom of Jesus Christ, yet were bravely ready to withdraw from public life, nay, even to lay down their life, if they could not without loss of virtue retain honours, dignities and offices. For this reason Christian ways and manners speedily found their way not only into private houses but into the camp, the Senate and even into the imperial palaces. “ We are but of yesterday,” wrote Tertullion, “yet we swarm in all your institutions, we crown your cities, islands, villages, towns, assemblies, the army itself, your wards and corporations, the palace, the senate, and the law courts.” So that the Christian faith, when once it became lawful to make public profession of the Gospel, appeared in most of the cities of Europe, not like an infant crying in its cradle, but already grown up and full of vigour.

THE DUTY OF CATHOLICS

In these our days, it is well to revive these examples of our forefathers. First and foremost it is the duty of all Catholics worthy of the name and wishful to be known as most loving children of the Church, to reject without swerving whatever is inconsistent with so fair a title; to make use of popular institutions, so far as can honestly be done, for the advancement of truth and righteousness; to strive that liberty of action shall not transgress the bounds marked out by nature and the law of God; to endeavour to bring back all civil society to the pattern and form of Christianity which We have described. It is barely possible to lay down any fixed method by which such purposes are to be attained, because the means adopted must suit places and times widely differing from one another. Nevertheless, above all things, unity of aim must be preserved, and similarity must be sought after in all plans of action. Both these objects will be carried into effect without fail, if all will follow the guidance of the Apostolic See as their rule of life, and obey the bishops whom the Holy Ghost has placed to rule the Church of God (Acts xx. 28). The defence of Catholicism indeed necessarily demands that in the profession of doctrines taught by the Church all shall be of one mind and all steadfast in believing; and care must be taken never to connive, in any way, at false opinions, never to with-stand them less strenuously than truth allows. In mere matters of opinion it is permissible to discuss things with moderation, with a desire to searching into truth and without unjust suspicion or angry recriminations.

CONSISTENCY ALWAYS

Hence, lest concord be broken by rash charges, let this be understood by all, that the integrity of Catholic Faith cannot be reconciled with opinions verging on Naturalism, or Rationalism, the essence of which is utterly to sterilize Christianity and to install in society the supremacy of man to the exclusion of God.

Further, it is unlawful to follow one line of conduct in private and another in public, respecting privately the authority of the Church but publicly rejecting it: for this would amount to joining together good and evil and to putting man in conflict with himself; whereas he ought always to be consistent and never in the least point nor in any condition of life to swerve from Christian virtue.

But in matters merely political, as for instance, the best form of government, and this or that system of administration, a difference of opinion is lawful. Those therefore, whose piety is in other respects known and whose minds are ready to accept in all obedience the decrees of the Apostolic See, cannot in justice be accounted as bad men because they disagree as to subjects We have mentioned; and still graver wrong will be done them, if-as We have more than once perceived with regret-they are accused of violating or of wavering in the Catholic faith.

Let this be well borne in mind by all who are in the habit of publishing their opinions, and above all by journalists. In the endeavour to secure interests of the highest order there is no room for intestine strife or party rivalries, since all should aim with one mind and purpose to make safe that which is the common object of all-the maintenance of Religion and of the State.

If, therefore, there have hitherto been dissentions, let them henceforth be gladly buried in oblivion. If rash or injurious acts have been committed, whoever may have been at fault, let mutual charity make amends and let the past be redeemed by a special submission of all to the Apostolic See.

In this way Catholics will attain two most excellent results: they will become helpers to the Church in preserving and propagating Christian wisdom, and they will confer the greatest benefit on civil society the safety of which is exceedingly imperilled by evil teachings and bad passions.

DEFINITION OF THE RIGHTS AND DUTIES OF HUSBAND AND WIFE [FROM THE ENCYCLICAL “ARCANUM DIVINAE” OF LEO XIII,10TH FEBRUARY, 1880]

FIRSTLY THERE HAS been vouchsafed to the marriage union a higher and nobler purpose than was ever previously given to it. By the command of Christ it not only looks to the propagation of the human race, but to the bringing forth of children for the Church, “fellow-citizens with the saints, and the domestics of God” (Eph. ii. 19) so that “a people might be born and brought up for theworship and religion of the true God and our Saviour Jesus Christ.” (Catech. Rom. c. viii).

HUSBAND AND WIFE

Secondly, the mutual duties of husband and wife have been defined, and their several rights accurately established. They are bound, namely, to have such feelings for one another as to cherish always very great mutual love, to be ever faithful to their marriage vow, and to give to one another an unfailing and unselfish help. The husband is the chief of the family, and the head of the wife. The woman, because she is flesh of his flesh and bone of his bone, must be subject to her husband and obey him; not indeed as a servant, but as a companion, so that her obedience shall be wanting in neither honour nor dignity. Since the husband represents Christ, and since the wife represents the Church, let there always be, both in him who commands and in her who obeys, a heavenborn love guiding both in their respective duties. For “ the husband is the head of the wife; as Christ is the head of the Church . . . Therefore, as the Church is subject to Christ, so also let the wives be to their husbands in all things.” (Eph. v. 23, 24).

WOMAN’S DIGNITY IN MARRIAGE

[From the Encyclical “CastiConnubii” of Pius XI, 31st December, 1930]

BY THIS SAME love it is necessary that all the other rights and duties of the marriage state be regulated as the words of the Apostle: “Let the husband render the debt to the wife, and the wife also in like manner to the husband” (I Cor. vii. 3) express not only a law of justice but of charity.

Domestic society being confirmed, therefore, by this band of love there should flourish in it that “order of love,” as St. Augustine calls it. This order includes both the primacy of the husband with regard to the wife and children, the ready subjection of the wife and her willing obedience, which the Apostle commends in these words: “Let women be subject to their husbands as to the Lord, because the husband is the head of the wife, as Christ is the head of the Church.” (Eph. V. 22, 23).

MOTHER AND COMPANION

This subjection, however, does not deny or take away the liberty which fully belongs to the woman both in view of her dignity as a human person, and in view of her most noble office as wife and mother and companion; nor does it bid her obey her husband’s every request if not in harmony with right reason or with the dignity due to wife; nor, in fine, does it imply that the wife should be put on a level with those persons who in law are called minors, to whom it is not customary to allow free exercise of their rights on account of their lack of mature judgment, or of their ignorance of human affairs. But it forbids that exaggerated liberty which cares not for the good of the family; it forbids that in this body which is the family, the heart be separated from the head to the great detriment of the whole body and the proximate danger of ruin. For if man is the head, the woman is the heart, and as he occupies the chief place in ruling, so she may and ought to claim for herself the chief place in love.

Again, this subjection of wife to husband in its degree and manner may vary according to the different conditions of persons, place, and time. In fact, if the husband neglect his duty, it falls to the wife to take his place in directing the family. But the structure of the family and its fundamental law, established and confirmed by God, must always and everywhere be maintained intact.

These then are the elements which compose the blessing of conjugal faith: unity, chastity, charity, honourable noble obedience, which are at the same time an enumeration of the benefits which are bestowed on husband and wife in their married state, benefits by which the peace, the dignity, and the happiness of matrimony are securely preserved and fostered. Wherefore it is not surprising that this conjugal faith has always been counted amongst the most priceless and special blessings of matrimony.

ON THE INDISSOLUBILITY OF THE MARRIAGE BOND AND THE EVILS OF DIVORCE [From the Encyclical “Arcanum Divinae” of Leo XIII,10th February, 1880]

A TORRENT OF EVIL

WHEN THE CHRISTIAN religion is rejected and repudiated, marriage sinks of necessity into the slavery of man’s vicious nature and vile passions, and finds but little protection in the help of natural goodness. A very torrent of evil has flowed from this source, not only into private families, but also into states. For the salutary fear of God being removed and there being no longer that refreshment in toil which is nowhere more abounding than in the Christian religion, it very often happens as from facts is evident, that the mutual services and duties of marriage seem almost unbearable; and thus very many yearn for the loosening of the tie which they believe to be woven by human law and of their own free will, whenever incompatibility of temper, or quarrels, or the violation of the marriage vow, or mutual consent, or other reasons induce them to think that it would be well to be set free. Then, if they are hindered by law from carrying out this shameless desire, they contend that the laws are iniquitous, inhuman and at variance with the rights of free citizens; adding that every effort should be made to repeal such enactments and to introduce a more humane code sanctioning divorce.

Now however much the legislators of these our days may wish to guard themselves against the impiety of men such as We have been speaking of, they are unable to do so, seeing that they profess to hold and defend the very same principles of jurisprudence; and hence they have to go with the times and render divorce easily obtainable. History itself shows this, for, to pass over other instances, we find that, at the close of the last century, divorces were sanctioned by law in that upheaval, or rather as it might be called, conflagration in France when society was wholly degraded by the abandoning of God. Many at the present time would fain have those laws re-enacted, because they wish God and His Church to be altogether exiled and excluded from the midst of human society, madly thinking that in such laws a final remedy must be sought for that moral corruption which is advancing with rapid strides.

THE EVILS OF DIVORCE

Truly, it is hardly possible to describe how great are the evils that flow from divorce. Matrimonial contracts are by it made variable; mutual kindness is weakened; deplorable inducements to unfaithfulness are supplied; harm is done to the education and training of children; occasion is afforded for the breaking up of home; the seeds of dissension are sown among families; the dignity of womanhood is lessened and brought low, and women run the risk of being deserted after having ministered to the pleasures of men. Since then, nothing has such power to lay waste families and destroy the mainstay of kingdoms as the corruption of morals, it is easily seen that divorces are in the highest degree hostile to the prosperity of families and States, springing as they do from the depraved morals of the people, and, as experience shows us, opening out a way to every kind of evil-doing alike in public and in private life.

THE TEACHINGS OF EXPERIENCE

Further still, if the matter be duly pondered, we shall clearly see these evils to be the more especially dangerous because, divorce once being tolerated, there will be no restraint powerful enough to keep it within the bounds marked out or pre-surmised. Great indeed is the force of example, and even greater still the might of passion. With such incitements it must needs follow that the eagerness for divorce daily spreading by devious ways, will seize upon the minds of many like a virulent contagious disease, or like a flood of water bursting through every barrier. These are truths that doubtlessly are all clear in themselves; but they will become clearer yet if we call to mind the teachings of experience. So soon as the road to divorce began to be made smooth by law, at once quarrels, jealousies and judicial separations largely increased; and such shamelessness of life followed, that men who had been in favour of these divorces repented of what they had done, and feared that if they did not carefully seek a remedy by repealing the law, the State itself might come to ruin.

The Romans of old are said to have shrunk with horror from the first examples of divorce; but ere long all sense of decency was blunted in their soul, the meagre restraint of passion died out, and the marriage vow was so often broken that what some writers have affirmed would seem to be true-namely, women used to reckon years not by the change of consuls, but of their husbands.

In like manner, at the beginning Protestants allowed legalized divorces in certain although but few cases; and yet, from the affinity of circumstances of like kind, the number of divorces increased to such extent in Germany, America, and elsewhere, that all wise thinkers deplored the boundless corruption of morals, and judged the recklessness of the laws to be simply intolerable.

Even in Catholic States the like evil existed. For whenever at any time divorce was introduced, the abundance of misery that followed far exceeded all that the framers of the law could have foreseen. In fact, many lent their minds to contrive all kinds of fraud and device, and by accusations of cruelty, violence and adultery, to feign grounds for the dissolution of the matrimonial bond of which they had grown weary; and all this with so great havoc to morals that an amendment of the laws was deemed to be urgently needed.

A BANEFUL AND CALAMITOUS RESULT

Can anyone, therefore, doubt that laws in favour of divorce would have a result equally baneful and calamitous were they to be passed in these our days? There exists not, indeed, in the projects and enactments of men any power to change the character of tendency which things have received from nature. Those men therefore show but little wisdom in the idea they have formed of the well-being of the commonwealth, who think that the inherent character of marriage can be perverted with impunity, and who, disregarding the sanctity of religion and of the sacrament, seem to wish to degrade and dishonour marriage more basely than was done even by heathen laws. Indeed, if they do not change their views, not only private families, but all public society will have unceasing cause to fear lest they should be miserably driven into that general confusion and overthrow of order which is even now the wicked aim of Socialists and Communists.

Thus we most clearly see how foolish and senseless it is to expect any public good from divorce, when, on the contrary, it tends to the certain destruction of Society.

[On the same subject quoted from the Encyclical “Casti Connubii” of Pius XI, 31st December, 1930]

REASONS ALLEGED FOR DIVORCE

THE ADVOCATES OF the neo-paganism of today have learned nothing from the sad state of affairs, but instead day by day, more and more vehemently, they continue by legislation to attack the indissolubility of the marriage bond, proclaiming that the lawfulness of divorce must be recognised, and that the antiquated laws should give place to a new and more humane legislation. Many and varied are the grounds put forward for divorce, some arising from the wickedness and guilt of the persons concerned, others arising from the circumstances of the case; the former they describe as subjective, the latter objective; in a word, whatever might make married life hard or unpleasant. They strive to prove their contentions regarding these grounds for the divorce legislation they would bring about by various arguments. Thus in the first place, they maintain that it is for the good of either party that the one who is innocent should have the right to separate from the guilty, or that the guilty should be withdrawn from a union which is unpleasing to him and against his will.

In the second place, they argue, the good of the child demands this, for either it will be deprived of a proper education or the natural fruits of it, and will too easily be affected by the discords and shortcomings of the parents, and drawn from the path of virtue. And, thirdly, the common good of society requires that these marriages should be completely dissolved, which are now incapable of producing their natural results, and that legal separations should be allowed when crimes are to be feared as the result of the common habitation and inter-course of the parties. This last they say must be admitted to avoid the crimes being committed purposely with a view to obtaining the desired sentence of divorce for which the judge can legally loose the marriage bond, as also to prevent people from coming before the courts when it is obvious from the state of the case that they are lying and perjuring themselves-all of which brings the court and the lawful authority into contempt. Hence the civil laws, in their opinion, have to be reformed to meet these new requirements, to suit the changes of the times and the changes in men’s opinions, civil institutions and customs. Each of these reasons is considered by them as conclusive, so that all taken together offer a clear proof of the necessity of granting divorce in certain cases.

Others, taking a step further, simply state that marriage, being a private contract, is, like other private contracts, to be left to the consent and good pleasure of both parties, and so can be dissolved for any reason whatsoever.

THE UNALTERABLE LAW OF GOD

Opposed to all these reckless opinions, Venerable Brethren, stands the unalterable law of God, fully confirmed by Christ, a law that can never be deprived of its force by the decrees of men, the ideas of a people or the will of any legislator: “What God hath joined together let no man put asunder.” (Matt. xix. 6). And if any man, acting contrary to this law, shall have put asunder his action is null and void, and the consequence remains, as Christ Himself has explicitly confirmed: “Everyone that putteth away his wife and marrieth another, committeth adultery: and he that marrieth her that is put away from her husband committeth adultery.” (Luke xvi. 18). Moreover, these words refer to every kind of marriage, even that which is natural and legitimate only; for, as has already been observed, that indissolubility by which the loosening of the bond is once and for all removed from the whim of the parties and from every secular power, is a property of every true marriage.

Let that solemn pronouncement of the Council of Trent be recalled to mind in which, under the stigma of anathema, it condemned these errors: “If anyone should say that on account of heresy or the hardships of co-habitation or a deliberate abuse of one party by the other the marriage tie may be loosened, let him be anathema” (Conc. Trid., Sess. xxiv, cap. 5); andagain: “If anyone should say that, the Church errs in having taught or in teaching that, according to the teaching of the Gospels and the Apostles, the bond of marriage cannot be loosened because of the sin of adultery of either party; or that neither party, even though he be innocent, having given no cause for the sin of adultery, can contract another marriage during the lifetime of the other; and that he commits adultery who marries another after putting away his adulterous wife, and likewise that she commits adultery who puts away her husband and marries another; let him be anathema;” (Conc. Trid., Sess. xxiv, cap. 7).

IMPERFECT SEPARATION ALLOWED

If therefore the Church has not erred and does not err in teaching this, and consequently it is certain that the bond of marriage cannot be loosed even on account of the sin of adultery, it is evident that all the other weaker excuses that can be and are usually brought forward, are of no value whatsoever. And the objections brought against the firmness of the marriage bond are easily answered. For, in certain circumstances imperfect separation of the parties is allowed, the bond not being severed. This separation which the Church herself permits, and expressly mentions in her Canon Law in those canons which deal with the separation of the parties as to marital relationship and co-habitation, removes all the alleged inconveniences and dangers (Cod. iur. can., c. 1128, sqq.). It will be for the sacred law and, to some extent also, the civil law, in so far as civil matters are affected, to lay down the grounds, the conditions, the method and precautions to be taken in a case of this kind in order to safe-guard the education of the children and the well-being of the family, and to remove all those evils which threaten the married persons, the children and the State. Now all those arguments that are brought forward to prove the indissolubility of the marriage tie, arguments which have already been touched upon, can equally be applied to excluding not only the necessity of divorce, but even the power to grant it; while for all the advantages that can be put forward for the former, there can be adduced as many disadvantages and evils which are a formidable menace to the whole of human society.

AN AMOUNT OF GOOD AND A TRAIN OF EVILS

To revert again to the expressions of Our predecessor, it is hardly necessary to point out what an amount of good is involved in the absolute indissolubility of wedlock and what a train of evils follows upon divorce. Whenever the marriage bond remains intact, then we find marriages contracted with a sense of safety and security, while, when separations are considered and the dangers of divorce are present, the marriage contract itself becomes insecure, or at least gives ground for anxiety and surprises. On the one hand we see a wonderful strengthening of goodwill and co-operation in the daily life of husband and wife, while on the other, both of these are miserably weakened by the presence of a facility for divorce. Here we have at a very opportune moment a source of help by which both parties are enabled to preserve their purity and loyalty; there we find harmful inducements to unfaithfulness. On this side we find the birth of children and their tuition and upbringing effectively promoted, many avenues of discord closed amongst families and relations, and the beginnings of rivalry and jealousy easily suppressed; on that, very great obstacles to the birth and rearing of children and their education, and many occasions of quarrels and seeds of jealousy sown everywhere. Finally, but especially, the dignity and position of women in civil and domestic society is re instated by the former; while by the latter it is shamefully lowered and the danger is incurred “of their being considered outcasts, slaves of the lusts of men.” (Leo XIII: Arcanum divinae sapientiae Feb. 10, 1880).

OPPOSED TO THE WELL-BEING OF FAMILY AND STATE

To conclude with the important words of Leo XIII, since the destruction of family life “and the loss of national wealth is brought about more by the corruption of morals than by anything else, it is easily seen that divorce, which is born of the perverted morals of a people, and leads, as experiment shows, to vicious habits in public and private life, is particularly opposed to the well-being of the family and the State. The serious nature of these evils will be the more clearly recognised, when we remember that, once divorce has been allowed, there will be no sufficient means of keeping it in check within any definite bounds. Great is the force of example, greater still that of lust; and with such incitements it cannot but happen that divorce and its consequent setting loose of the passions should spread daily and attack the souls of many like a contagious disease or a river bursting its banks and flooding the land.” (Arcanum divinae sapientiae).

Thus we read in the same letter, “unless things change, the human family and State have every reason to fear lest they should suffer absolute ruin.” All this was written fifty years ago, yet is it confirmed by the daily increasing corruption of morals and the unheard of degradation of the family in those lands where Communism reigns unchecked. THE CHURCH CONDEMNS CONTRACEPTION

[From the Encyclical”Casti Connubii” by Pius XI, 31st December, 1930]

AND NOW, Venerable Brethren, we shall explain in detail the evils opposed to each of the benefits of matrimony. First consideration is due to the offspring, which many have the boldness to call the disagreeable burden of matrimony and which they say is to be carefully avoided by married people not through virtuous continence (which Christian law permits in matrimony when both parties consent) but by frustrating the marriage act. Some justify this criminal abuse on the ground that they are weary of children and wish to gratify their desires without their consequent burden. Others say that they cannot on the one hand remain continent nor on the other can they have children because of the difficulties whether on the part of the mother or on the part of family circumstances.

A SHAMEFUL AND VICIOUS DEED

But no reason, however grave, may be put forward by which anything intrinsically against nature may become conformable to nature and morally good. Since, therefore, the conjugal act is destined primarily by nature for the begetting of children, those who in exercising it deliberately frustrate its natural power and purpose sin against nature and commit a deed which is shameful and intrinsically vicious.

Small wonder, therefore, if Holy Writ bears witness that the Divine Majesty regards with greatest detestation this horrible crime and at times has punished it with death. As St.Augustine notes: “Intercourse even with one’s legitimate wife is unlawful and wicked where the conception of the offspring is prevented. Onan, the son of Juda, did this and the Lord killed him for it.” (St. Augustine: De coniug. adult., lib. ii, n. 12; Gen. xxxviii. 8–10).

Since therefore, openly departing from the uninterrupted Christian tradition some recently have judged it possible solemnly to declare another doctrine regarding this question, the Catholic Church, to whom God has entrusted the defence of the integrity and purity of morals, standing erect in the midst of the moral ruin which surrounds her, in order that she may preserve the chastity of the nuptial union from being defiled by this foul stain, raises her voice in token of her divine ambassadorship and through Our mouth proclaims anew: any use whatsoever of matrimony exercised in such a way that the act is deliberately frustrated in its natural power to generate life is an offence against the law of God and of nature, and those who indulge in such are branded with the guilt of a grave sin.

AN ADMONITION

We admonish therefore, priests who hear confessions and others who have the care of souls, in virtue of Our supreme: to allow the faithful entrusted to them to err regarding this most grave law of God; much more, that they keep themselves immune from such false opinions, in no way conniving in them. If any confessor or pastor of souls, which may God forbid, lead the faithful entrusted to him into these errors or should at least confirm them by approval or by guilty silence, let him be mindful of the fact that he must render a strict account to God, the Supreme Judge, for the betrayal of his sacred trust, and let him take to himself the words of Christ: “They are blind and leaders of the blind: and if the blind lead the blind, both fall into the pit.” (Matt. xv. 14).

FALSE AND EXAGGERATED ARGUMENTS

As regards the evil use of matrimony, to pass over the arguments which are shameful, not infrequently others that are false and exaggerated are put forward. Holy Mother Church very well understands and clearly appreciates all that is said regarding the health of the mother and the danger to her life. And who would not grieve to think of these things? Who is not filled with the greatest admiration when he sees a mother risking her life with heroic fortitude that she may preserve the life of the offspring which she has conceived? God alone, all bountiful and all merciful as He is, can reward her for the fulfilment of the office allotted to her by nature, and will assuredly repay her in a measure full to overflowing.

Holy Church knows well that not infrequently one of the parties is sinned against rather than sinning, when for a grave cause he or she reluctantly allows the perversion of the right order. In such a case, there is no sin, provided that, mindful of the law of charity, he or she does not neglect to seek to dissuade and to deter the partner from sin. Nor are those considered as acting against nature who in the married state use their right in the proper manner although on account of natural reasons either of time or of certain defects, new life cannot be brought forth. For in matrimony as well as in the use of the matrimonial rights there are also secondary ends, such as mutual aid, the cultivating of mutual love, and the quieting of concupiscence which husband and wife are not forbidden to consider so long as they are subordinated to the primary end and so long as the intrinsic nature of the act is preserved.

We are deeply touched by the sufferings of those parents who, in extreme want, experience great difficulty in rearing their children.

GOD DOES NOT DEMAND IMPOSSIBILITIES

However, they should take care lest the calamitous state of their external affairs should be the occasion for a much more calamitous error. No difficulty can arise that justifies the putting aside of the law of God which forbids all acts intrinsically evil. There is no possible circumstance in which husband and wife cannot, strenghened by the grace of God, fulfil faithfully their duties and preserve in wedlock their chastity unspotted. This truth of Christian Faith is expressed by the teaching of the Council of Trent: “ Let no one be so rash as to assert that which the Fathers of the Council have placed under anathema, namely, that there are precepts of God impossible for the just to observe. God does not ask the impossible, but by His commands, instructs you to do what you are able, to pray for what you are not able that He may help you.” (Conc. Trid., Sess. vi, cap. II).

ABORTION CONDEMNED BY THE CHURCH

[From the Encyclical “Casti Connubii” by Pius XI, 31st December, 1930]

BUT ANOTHER VERY grave crime is to be noted, Venerable Brethren, which regards the taking of the life of the offspring hidden in the mother’s womb. Some wish it to be allowed and left to the will of the father or the mother; others say it is unlawful unless there are weighty reasons which they call by the name of medical, social, or eugenic “indication.” Because this matter falls under the penal laws of the State by which the destruction of the offspring begotten but unborn is forbidden, these people demand that the “indication” which in one form or another they defend, be recognized as such by the public law and in no way penalized. There are those, moreover, who ask that the public authorities provide aid for these deathdealing operations, a thing, which, sad to say, everyone knows is of very frequent occurrence in some places.

THE DIRECT MURDER OF THE INNOCENT

As to the “medical and therapeutic indication” to which, using their own words, we have made reference, Venerable Brethren, however much we may pity the mother whose health and even life is gravely imperilled in the performance of the duty allotted to her by nature, nevertheless, what could ever be a sufficient reason for excusing in any way the direct murder of the innocent? This is precisely what we are dealing with here. Whether inflicted upon the mother or upon the child, it is against the precept of God and the law of nature: “Thou shalt not kill.” The life of each is equally sacred, and no one has the power not even the public authority, to destroy it. It is of no use to appeal to the right of taking away life for here it is a question of the innocent, whereas that right has regard only to the guilty; nor is there here any question of defence by bloodshed against an unjust aggressor (for who would call an innocent child an unjust aggressor?); again there is no question here of what is called the “ law of extreme necessity “ which could even extend to the direct killing of the innocent. Upright and skilful doctors strive most praiseworthily to guard and preserve the lives of both mother and child; on the contrary, those show themselves most unworthy of the noble medical profession who encompass the death of one or the other, through a pretence at practising medicine or through motives of misguided pity.

IMPURE GRATIFICATION

All of which agrees with the stern words of the Bishop of Hippo in denouncing those wicked parents who seek to remain childless, and failing in this are not ashamed to put their offspringto death: “ Sometimes this lustful cruelty or cruel lust goes so far as to seek to procure a baneful sterility, and if this fails the foetus conceived in the womb is in one way or another smothered and evacuated, in the desire to destroy the offspring before it has life, or if it already lives in the womb, to kill it before it is born. If both man and woman are party to such practices they are not spouses at all; and if from the first they have carried on thus, they have come together not for honest wedlock, but for impure gratification; if both are not party to these deeds I make bold to say that either the one makes herself a mistress of the husband, or the other simply the paramour of his wife.” (St. August. De nupt. et concupisc. cap. xv.)

What is asser ted in favour of the social and eugenic “indication” may and must be accepted, provided lawful and upright methods are employed within the proper limits; but to wish to put forward reasons based upon them for the killing of the innocent is unthinkable andcontrary to the divine precept promulgated in the words of the Apostle: “ Evil is not to be done that good may come of it.” (Rom. iii. 8).

Those who hold the reins of government should not forget that it is the duty of public authority by appropriate laws and sanctions to defend the lives of the innocent, and this all the more so since those whose lives are endangered and assailed cannot defend themselves. Among whom we must mention in the first place infants hidden in the mother’s womb. And if the public magistrates not only do not defend them, but by their laws and ordinances betray them to death at the hands of doctors or of others, let them remember that God is the Judge and Avenger of innocent blood which cries from earth to Heaven. (Gen. iv. 10).

STERILISATION CONDEMNED BY THE CHURCH

[From the Encyclical of Pius XI on Christian Marriage “Casti Connubii,” 31st December, 1930]

AN UNLAWFUL USURPATION

FINALLY, THAT pernicious practice must be condemned which closely touches upon the natural right of man to enter matrimony, but affects also in a real way the welfare of the offspring. For there are some who, over-solicitous for the cause of eugenics, not only give salutary counsel for more certainly procuring the strength and health of the future child-which indeed, is not contrary to right reason-but put eugenics before aims of a higher order, and by public authority wish to prevent from marrying all those who, even though naturally fit for marriage they consider according to the norms and conjectures of their investigations, would through hereditary transmission, bring forth defective offspring. And more, they wish to legislate to deprive those of that natural faculty by medical action despite their unwillingness; and this they do not propose as an infliction of grave punishment, under the authority of the State for a crime committed, nor to prevent future crimes by guilty persons but against every right and good they wish the civil authority to arrogate to itself a power over a faculty which it never had and can never legitimately possess.

Those who act in this way, are at fault in losing sight of the fact that the family is more sacred than the state, and that men are begotten not for the earth and for time but for Heaven and eternity. Although often these individuals are to be dissuaded from entering into matrimony, certainly it is wrong to brand men with the stigma of crime because they contract marriage, on the ground that, despite the fact that they are in every respect capable of matrimony, they will give birth only to defective children, even though they use all care and diligence.

Public magistrates have no direct power over the bodies of their subjects; therefore, where no crime has taken place and there is no cause present for grave punishment, they can never directly harm, or tamper with the integrity of the body, either for the reasons of eugenics or for any other reason. St. Thomas teaches this when, inquiring whether human judges for the sake of preventing future evils can inflict punishment, he admits that the power indeed exists as regards certain other forms of evil, but justly and properly denies it as regards the maiming of the body. “No one who is guiltless may be punished by a human tribunal either by flogging to death, or mutilation, or by beating.” (Summ. theol., 2a, 2ae, q. 1080 a 4. ad 2um).

Furthermore, Christian doctrine establishes, and the light of human reason makes it most clear that private individuals have no other power over the members of their bodies than that which pertains to their natural ends; and they are not free to destroy or mutilate their members, or in any other way render themselves unfit for their natural functions, except when no other provision can be made for the good of the whole body.

CATHOLICS SHOULD DEFEND THE FAITH [FROM THE ENCYCLICAL “SAPIENTIAE CHRISTIANAE” OF LEO XIII,10TH JANUARY, 1890]

AN OBLIGATION ON ALL

AMID SUCH reckless and widespread folly of opinion it is, as We have said, the office of the Church to undertake the defence of truth and uproot errors from the mind, and this charge has to be at all times sacredly observed by her, seeing that the honour of God and the salvation of men are confided to her keeping. But when necessity compels, not those only who are invested with power of rule are bound to safeguard the integrity of faith, but as St. Thomas maintains, “Each one is under obligation to show forth his faith, either to instruct and encourage others of the faithful, or to repel the attacks of unbelievers.” To recoil before an enemy or to keep silence when from all sides such clamours are raised against truth, is the part of a man either devoid of character, or who entertains doubt as to the truth of what he professes to believe. In both cases such mode of behaving is base and is insulting to God, and both are incompatible with the salvation of mankind. This kind of conduct is profitable only to the enemies of the faith, for nothing emboldens the wicked so greatly as the lack of courage on the part of the good. Moreover, want of vigour on the part of Christians is so much the more blameworthy, as not seldom little would be needed on their part to bring to naught false charges and refute erroneous opinions; and always by exerting themselves more strenuously they might reckon upon being successful. After all, no one can be prevented from putting forth that strength of soul which is the characteristic of true Christians; and very frequently by such display of courage our enemies lose heart and their designs are thwarted. Christians are, moreover, born for combat whereof the greater the vehemence, the more assured, God aiding, the triumph: “Have confidence. I have overcome the world.” (John xvi. 33). Nor is there any ground for alleging that Jesus Christ, the Guardian and Champion of the Church, needs not in any manner the help of men. Power certainly is not wanting to Him, but in His loving kindness He would assign to us a share in obtaining and applying the fruits of salvation procured through His grace.

OPEN AND UNFLINCHING PROFESSION OF FAITH

The chief elements of this duty consist in professing openly and unflinchingly the Catholic doctrine, and in propagating it to the utmost of our power. For, as is often said and with the greatest truth, there is nothing so hurtful to Christian wisdom as that it should not be known, since it posesses, when loyally received, inherent power to drive away error. So soon as Catholic truth is apprehended by a simple and unprejudiced soul, reason yields assent. Now faith, as a virtue, is a great boon of divine grace and goodness; nevertheless, the objects themselves to which faith is to be applied are scarcely known in any other way than through hearing. “How shall they believe Him of whom they have not heard ? And how shall they hear without a preacher ? Faith then cometh by hearing, and hearing by the word of Christ.” (Rom. x. 14, 17). Since then faith is necessary for salvation, it follows that the word of Christ must be preached. The office indeed of preaching, that is of teaching, lies by divine right in the province of the pastors, namely, of the bishops whom the Holy Ghost has placed to rule the Church of God (Acts xx. 28). It belongs above all to the Roman Pontiff, Vicar of Jesus Christ, established as head of the Universal Church, teacher of all that pertains to morals and faith.

No one, however, must entertain the notion that private individuals are prevented from taking some active part in this duty of teaching, especially those on whom God has bestowed gifts of mind with the strong wish of rendering themselves useful. These, so often as circumstances demand, may take upon themselves, not indeed the office of the pastor, but the task of communicating to others what they have themselves received, becoming, as it were, living echoes of their masters in the faith.

Nihil Obstat :

CAROLUS DOYLE, S.J. Censor Theol. Deput

Imprimi Potest :

@ EDUARDUS,

Archiep. Dublinen,

Hiberniae Primas.

Dublini, die 12a Januarii, 1937.

********

Alive, Alive, O

BY W. LAWSON, S.J

INDEX

Would you have started reading this pamphlet if it had been called Mortification?

FRIGHT

The word has an unpleasant sound. It does not appear nowadays in popular medicine, but there used to be phrases like mortification has set in,’ which described a serious condition in a wound where the tissues were breaking down and would not heal. Today,people talk of being ‘mortified’ when they are affronted, shamed, tricked, or hurt. All the associations of the word mortification are distasteful and frightening. When the word is used of spiritual life it is no more attractive. There is a feeling that the virtue and the practice to which it refers are necessary to goodness and therefore have to be tried, but that they are painful and must always be painful. We read of some saints whose practice of mortification is terrifying. Learning of their extremes of penance, we are surer than ever that canonized sanctity is not for us. We have at once a friendly feeling towards saints who seem to have arrived at sanctity without fierce mortification, and who give us hope that we may rise to imitation of their goodness. But we know that mortification must have some place in our lives; and the thought nags at us.

SCRIPTURE

We are not reassured when we consult the Scriptures. They are uncompromising.

‘Every one that doth not renounce all that he possesseth cannot be My disciple’ (Luke 14.33).

There is renunciation, the abandonment of the good things of this life. It can’t be anything but painful. ‘If any man will come after Me, let him deny himself and take up his cross daily’ (Luke 9.23).

The cross is a burden. To carry it every day is a weariness. And to deny oneself, instead of asserting oneself, is to limit life and the joys of life.

‘Mortify your members’ (Col. 3.5).

‘If by the Spirit you mortify the deeds of the flesh, you shall live’ (Rom. 8.13).

The word ‘mortify’ comes from the Latin word ‘mors’ which means ‘death.’ So we are enjoined to kill part of ourselves. Death is to be by crucifixion:

‘They that are Christ’s have crucified their flesh, with the vices and concupiscences’ (Gal. 5.24). And burial follows upon death:

‘You are dead: and your life is hid with Christ in God’ (Col. 3.3).

‘We are buried together with Him by baptism into death’ (Rom. 6.4).

The idea that is taught by those passages of Scripture, some of them in our Lord’s own words, is that Christian life means death of some kind-death which we are to inflict on ourselves by doing violence to our members, and which is to result in a hidden life that is equivalent to burial.

UNDERSTANDING

In part, we accept the words at their face value, just as we accept the words of one of the prayers said after Mass: ‘mourning and weeping in this vale of tears.’ After saying that prayer honestly and with understanding, Catholics go out of church, meet their friends as they come from Mass, and laugh and talk and are happy together-all the happier, in fact, for having been to Mass and said the prayer about ‘mourning and weeping.’ In the same way, Catholics read or hear the Scripture about self-denial, mortification, crucifixion, death, and burial, and yet continue to be cheerful and to enjoy life. There is no dishonesty in what may seem to be a contradiction. But the seeming contradiction does need to be explained.

NEGATIVES

Before we look into the subject of mortification, it will be helpful to notice how we talk and think rather about negatives than positives, and about the dark side rather than about the bright side. For many, ‘salvation’ means, primarily, avoiding Hell; with the attainment of Heaven coming as an afterthought. There is always a sermon on Hell in a mission; but sermons on Heaven are rare. Similarly, charity is narrowed to mean not speaking unkindly about people. In thought and good resolution it does not include, as it should, a whole world of kind, gentle, and helpful regard for others, which shows itself in words and actions. Temperance is made to mean abstinence from strong drink, but not the balanced, athletic power of a trained mind and will. The meaning of prudence is restricted to waiting, pausing, refraining from action, playing safe, and looking before leaping: it does not include, what is often a part of it, leaping quickly high and wide, running a risk, seizing opportunities, and taking time by the forelock. In just that way we fail to give to the idea and practice of mortification its positive side, which is by far the more valuable. No wonder we dislike mortification.

YOUR GREATEST ACT OF MORTIFICATION

What would you say was the greatest act of mortification in your whole life? Think it out for a while, before looking at the answer. Your greatest act of mortification . . . ?

It makes the question harder, to tell you that this mortification is the same for all Christians, that most Christians are not aware of the act until years after it happened, and that many of them, though they now know about the act, do not think about it as a mortification. The greatest act of mortification in your life was your baptism. That surprises you. And the reason why you are surprised is that you are not accustomed to think of the positive side of mortification, which is vivification.

SCRIPTURE AGAIN

Go back to the passages of Scripture which we have already examined, and see that far stronger than the idea of death is the idea of life. No matter what words are used to recommend mortification, what is urged is the gaining of life. The purpose of mortification is vivification. (The Creed calls the Holy Ghost spiritus vivificans, the Spirit who makes alive.) The virtue, like all virtues, is mainly positive.

VIVIFICATION

Mortification is not an end in itself -a practice to be adopted just for its own sake, and without regard to what it does for the soul. It is a means only : it is intended to produce life, and it is good only in so far as it does produce life.

We ought, therefore, to be clear about the two meanings of mortification. There is the narrow and negative meaning, the one that is usually thought of when the word is used ; and there is the wide and positive meaning, which is clearer when the word vivification is used for it. Mortification in the narrow sense is for the purpose of producing the blessing called vivification.

It follows that negative mortification must always be measured. It is not good in any and every amount, as though it were good in its own right. It is good only for the effect it has of making the soul more alive : and it is to be adopted only as it gives or increases life. It would be wrong and misleading to suppose that the greater the ‘mortification’ (or sacrifice, or suffering, or pain) the greater the virtue or merit, so that the greatest saint is the one who suffers most. To think in that way would be to fall into a common and mistaken idea that pain in itself is good, and that pleasure in itself is evil. We would reject that error in its grosser forms-when it says, for example, that if we are enjoying something it is probably wrong: and we may be free from the uneasy suspicion (which is Puritan) of enjoyment in general. But there are many Catholics who have a mistaken notion of the value of hardship, and who suppose that there is always more merit in a good action that is hard than in a good action that is easy. Children (and others) are prompted to make ‘sacrifices’: and, if they find them very hard,they are encouraged to make them because ‘the harder they are, the more merit they will win.’ Behind such a statement there is the truth that there can be more love of God in action for Him which is hard than in action for Him which is easy. But the statement, and others in the same sense, leads to a false valuation: pain is considered good in itself: penances are adopted, and sacrifices are made, according to the hardship they cause: and goodness is judged rather by difficulty in achieving it than by the love of God which makes it. Such teaching would make nonsense of the doctrine that ease in the practice of virtue is a special gift of God, and that the more we love God the more joy and happiness there is in doing His will. The virtue of fortitude enables us to undertake a good life and to persevere in it: but there is need, in its practice, of patience and endurance. But when the virtue of fortitude is completed by the fortitude which is one of the Seven Gifts of the Holy Ghost there is a special ease in undertaking and persevering; and the hardship of patience and endurance is much diminished or is removed altogether. And that ease and pleasure in the practice of virtue are made possible by an extra help from the Holy Ghost, and they give the soul power for a greater love of God.

It is ‘vivification’ which is good in itself. ‘Mortification’ is good only because, and in so far as, it produces life.

LIFE

Our Lord says that He is come that we may have life, and may have it more abundantly. In the passages of Scripture already quoted, death is preached for the sake of life. ‘Renunciation’ means the abandonment of what-ever hinders us from being disciples of our Lord. We do not think of renunciation or of sacrifice when we pay money for a ticket home. What is in our minds is the joy of being amongst our own people-the positive, not the negative. So we do not think of loss when we give something to be our Lord’s friends. ‘Self-denial’ is a denial of ourselves only in order that Christ may live in us: and that is self-assertion of the best kind, because it makes our character and our personality, giving us a richness and permanence of individuality which can be acquired in no other way. ‘Mortify your members,’ says St Paul: but the inducement he holds out is: ‘You shall live,’ enlivening others as well as yourself. ‘Unless the grain of wheat falling into the ground die, itself remaineth alone. But if it die, it bringeth forth much fruit’ (John 12.24–25). He preaches the Cross, and death and burial, but only because they are the necessary prelude to life and resurrection.

‘For we are buried with Him by baptism into death: that, as Christ is risen from the dead by the glory of the Father, so we also may walk in newness of life.

Knowing this, that our old man is crucified with Him, that the body of sin may be destroyed, to the end that we may serve sin no longer.

So do you also reckon that you are dead to sin, but alive unto God, in Christ Jesus our Lord.’ (Rom. 6.4, 6, 11).

What is to be killed-’mortified’-is your merely natural self: whatever in you does not share the super-natural life which our Lord gained for us by His life and death, and which is available for us in the Church. We are to have the life which our Lord came to give us: we want to have it fully-’abundantly,’ as our Lord says. Love of God is to fill our minds and hearts, and is to show itself in a great goodness of living-unselfishness, kindness, loyalty, courage, gentleness, joy, patience, and all the other ways in which we love God and love people and ennoble and enrich our souls. The work of rising to heights of goodness can be called ‘mortification’: but it is ‘vivification’; it is the satisfying, attractive work of filling your soul with the grace of God, and of using that supernatural life in full health and liveliness of spirit.

YOU ARE MORTIFIED

Mortification, for you, is not a manner of life that you may, in the vague future, adopt if you can screw up your courage to embrace hardship. It is already the state of life in which you habitually live.You are mortified. The ‘old Adam’ was killed and buried in your baptism, and you rose out of that sacrament into the new life of grace. Now, as you love God and worship Him and try to serve Him, you are constantly strengthening and developing your life. The great mortifications which you perform (and perform gladly, with joy and thankfulness) are your partaking of the sacraments, the chief means of supernatural life, your offering of the Sacrifice of the Mass, your prayers, when you raise your mind and heart to God, the goodness that you show in love of your family and your friends, your respect for them, your care and thoughtfulness for them, and all the other use that you make of grace in your daily life.

Once the main truth is established-that mortification in its full sense means vivification, the life of grace-we can think, to better purpose, of mortification in the narrow sense-penance of all kinds.

PENANCE

Like sanctifying grace, which is the essential mortification that makes us alive and keeps us living, this lesser mortification has life for its object. When we possess supernatural life, there can still be traces of death in us; just as, though we are physically alive, we can have undeveloped or stiff muscles; just as a living tree can have a dead branch, or fruit that is shrivelled and sour. The purpose of penance is to remove stiffness and decay, to make life run through our whole being, so that we are not only alive, which is the essential, but lively, which is getting on towards perfection.

LOVE OF GOD

The motives for this working towards full life are many, and they all come back to the root of all goodness, which is love of God. We sometimes choose hardship rather than ease, to show love of God, doing or suffering for Him at some cost to ourselves. That is love as we understand it well from our human happiness. What matters to us in sacrifices for those whom we love-family and friends especially-is not the price to ourselves but the joy which we give them and in which we then share. When we offer our sweetration, we don’t say, as our friends in turn take a chocolate: ‘O Lord! There goes another one!’ It is a sacrifice to give up sweets: but the sacrifice is thought of not as pain but rather as ease to the loving heart. Loving your friends, you must be giving to them-your sweets, your thoughtfulness, your courtesy, your work. You take pains for them: and a most pleasant way it is of living.

Well, doing penance before God is just that: giving Him what we have and what we are, out of love. (Indeed, when our love of friends is part of our love of God, as it should be to have real worth, then we already do penance before God in unselfish devotion to friends.) You see how positive mortification is, even when it means penance. Before we examine the doctrine of mortification, we fear that it means: ‘Think of your dearest possession, and then give it up.’ But when we discover that it has its roots in love, we know that it means: ‘Think of God, whom you love, and of the friends you share with Him, andsearch your possessions for a present that will please Him and them.’

WORK FOR THE CHURCH

There are special reasons, at times, for our gifts to God out of love, as there are special reasons for sacrifices in our human relationships. A mother gives time and energy to making home clean and warm and welcoming for the children when they come in from the day’s work. A father does his work to provide a Catholic education for his family. So we, joined to our Lord in love, help Him with His work by our gift of energy, joy, and suffering.

He is concerned for the goodness of the world. We also, being in His company, have a share in His concern, and we take the part He gives us in the work of spreading goodness. In the Mystical Body of Christ, of which we are made members by grace, we give goodness to others by being good ourselves. We pass on to the Church the goodness we receive from our Lord. For the most part, our work is the pleasant activity of virtue-loving God and loving people, serving God and serving people. Sometimes we are allowed to share in the sufferings of our Lord, and our pain and penance then become a gift of love which we make to Him and to the Church, especially that part of it which we know and love best. It is, as a rule, penance which we accept, without choosing to have it. But on occasion we can choose to give when we are free not to give. Such penance makes yet another likeness between our Lord and His Mystical Body, the Church. St Paul says of himself:

‘I now rejoice in my sufferings for you and fill up those things that are wanting of the sufferings of Christ, in my flesh, for His body, which is the Church’ (Col. 1.24).

We also, members of the Body, fill up part of what is still to be suffered by the Church. Our suffering, sacrifice, pain, work, and all our penance, give us a greater share in the Sacrifice of our Lord, on Calvary and in the daily Mass. We offer them out of love for our Lord and love for human beings.

TRAINING

A further reason for penance is a commonsense and necessary training of the soul. Our possession of natural life and the faculties that go with it does not at once give us all the ease in living and in using our faculties that we need or would like to have. We may have aptitude for languages or sums or administration: but we need to learn grammar and tables and order. We may have the makings of an athlete: but the athlete has to learn to walk and to run. And in our learning we sometimes have to overcome weariness, laziness, boredom, and reluctance to exert ourselves.

St Paul explains that motive for penance: ‘The flesh lusteth against the spirit: and the spirit against the flesh. For these are contrary one to another: so that you do not the things that you would’ (Gal. 5.17).

‘I am delighted with the law of God, according to the inward man: but I see another law in my members, fighting against the law of my mind and captivating me in the law of sin that is in my members’ (Rom. 7.22–23).

‘I chastise my body and bring it into subjection’ (1 Cor. 9.27).

We could all profitably follow his example.

PRACTICE

Lent and Advent are times indicated by the Church for penance more deliberately adopted. Both then and in the rest of our lives there is ample opportunity for using penance to show love, to help others, and to train oneself.

Is your penance to be regular? And, if it is, what form should it take? Will you give up sweets, snuff, or cinema?

Will you pain yourself by having tea without milk, or by having tea with milk, or by spoiling some other pleasure?

I suggest a form of penance which will make you do mortification regularly, and which will bring much goodness and happiness into your own life and the lives of others. It is a matter, not of looking round for some extra mortification, but of doing properly what you are already bound to do.

THE DAILY ROUND

In everyday life you are never short of opportunities for unselfishness. They come, not as special occasions, but as the continuous obligation of being good. Take those opportunities, and you will have a life filled with mortification and penance of the cheerful and effective sort, springing from love, and nourishing love. There is a saint, John Berchmans, S.J., with the gentleness and simplicity of character which are specially attractive, who said that life in community is the greatest mortification. He meant that living up to the ideal of family life (and other community life) requires constant sacrifice of yourself out of love for your own. You see, once more, that mortification is positive and pleasant. What a life of self-restraint, sacrifice, and hard work of mind and body, to ensure that you never hurt anyone, and that people are always warmer in heart and happier for your existence! But what a jolly life! It is never boring, never chill and dead with selfishness ; but full of interest and affection. Be mortified if you want to enjoy life.

MORTIFICATION BEGINS AT HOME . .

Begin, and continue, penance where charity begins and grows. Penance of that sort, and the love that makes it real, will extend outwards from your home into every part of your life.

You can measure how much self-sacrifice and unselfishness you will need, even if you do nothing more than your fair share of work at home. Take your turn at washing-up, and do your regular part of the other housework: save others trouble and annoyance by leaving the bathroom clean and not like an untidy swamp: have a kettle on, ready for a latecomer-you can work out the details for yourself. You see how you will need to think of others, to have care for them, to be interested in their work and play and to let them be interested in yours. All the time you will be loving your family in thought and word and deed, at the cost to yourself of continual thoughtfulness and sacrifice. It is penance: and you (and the family) will enjoy it.

. . . AND EXTENDS IN ALL DIRECTIONS

With all that practice at home, you will be in good form wherever you may be. You will be courteous in queues, cheerful and helpful at work, kind to the shy, patient with the forward, able to preserve a sense of humour (of proportion, that is) even with the selfish. Instead of afflicting someone with your moans during moods of depression, you will force yourself to look for one more miserable than yourself (if such there be: anyway, the search will be interesting) with whom you can share your slight advantage of good spirits. You will not be for ever peering at your own life and seeking your own interest, in self-centred narrowness; but you will have the wide view, the broad mind, and the good heart of unselfishness. When such growth is the result of cutting back your selfish shoots, then pruning is pleasant-not, perhaps, when the secateurs are snipping, but certainly as soon as the operation is over, and you grow in goodness for yourself, and for others who look to you for goodness and have a right to see it.

Whatever form your regard for others takes, it costs you the effort and pain of self-restraint and self-denial. Imposing restrictions on yourself, you make freedom for others: taking small account of yourself, you make much of others. It is a daily penance. It comes into your life at home and outside, in work and in play. It makes you cheerful and uncomplaining in sickness and other hardships; ready with pity for others but never for your-self. It makes you just and kind in your judgement and speech; tactful; sensitive to the feelings of others; alert to know their needs and quick to supply them. Mortification? So it is. But it is also the fun of Christian living.

LOOK ALIVE

At sight of our Lord, St John the Baptist said: ‘He must increase: but I must decrease’ (John 3.30). It is your formula for mortification. That is self-denial: to assert Christianity in you, to assert the life of Christ in yourself. That is mortification: to live, brightening and warming your world, with the life of Christ. Look alive!

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All About Cardinals

BY D. G. M. JACKSON

INDEX

The recent creation of thirty-two Cardinals by Pope Pius XII aroused worldwide attention owing to the unusually large number elevated to the Sacred College at one time and to the variety of different races and nations from which the newly honoured prelates came. It was also of particular interest to the Catholic people of this Commonwealth, because among those honoured was our own Archbishop of Sydney, his Eminence Norman Cardinal Gilroy, the second occupant of his See to be raised to the purple, and the first native-born Australian.

Who, then, are these “Cardinals” who hold princely rank and splendour in the Church, and are the chief counsellors of the Holy Father? What is the origin of their office and its dignities, and how far back does its existence go in Christian history? If we look back we shall find that-like many ancient traditional institutions, it has grown out of something originally very simple. The great officers of the modern British State were, to begin with, private servants in the Royal household-the word “minister” simply means servant. The Lord Chancellor was his Father Confessor, who also sealed his letters; the Treasurer kept the accounts of his personal estates, the Chancellor of the Exchequer received the dues from the sheriffs and tenants-in-chief, which were totted up on a sort of chequer-board (hence “Exchequer”). The Home and Foreign Secretaries were just private secretaries who made notes for him and transmitted his orders . . . in fact, the whole “set-up” was very similar to the sort of domestic arrangement in the houses of the greater feudal nobles. In the same way as the English “Privy Council” developed, so did the Roman College of Cardinals.

THE POPE AND HIS CLERGY

Let us look back, first of all, to the early days of the Papacy. The Church has always, of course, recognised the Bishop of Rome, the successor of St. Peter, as inheriting his Christ-conferred supremacy, and therefore chief among Bishops and the possessor of final authority in decisions regarding Faith, morals, and Church discipline. But in the first centuries of the Church, normal control was not centralised in the Roman See as it came to be later, and the difference between the See of Peter and other great Sees was not emphasised outwardly. Indeed, in ages of pagan rule and persecution, when Christianity was a forbidden sect, it would not have been possible to organise administration from a single centre-particularly as Rome was usually the most dangerous spot in the Empire, and her early Bishops almost invariably ended their lives by martyrdom. We have to see the first Popes, then, as mainly concerned with the day to day domestic affairs of their own bishopric in difficult times.

Pope St. Evaristus (99–107) is said to have divided Rome up into parishes, though a fixed organisation of this sort can hardly have existed in the age of persecution. However, by the end of the fifth century the empire had long been officially Christian; and in 499 we find Pope Symmachus holding a council of the parish priests, or “presbyters,” of the principal Roman Churches.

These were really sort of “arch-priests” with numbers of other clergy subject to them. There were twenty-five to twenty-eight of them, and they were called “Cardinal priests”-the name is derived from “Cardo,” meaning “a hinge”-hence someone on whose counsel important matters turn. People had come to refer to them by the name of their “titular” churches-as the Cardinal of St. Sabina, St. Cyriacus, St. Pudentiana, and so forth. In those days-and, indeed, for very much later, the title was not peculiar to the Roman senior clergy. We find it in the early middle ages given to those of other important sees; for instance, at Constantinople, Milan, Ravenna (three Imperial cities) and at Naples, Sens, Trier, Magdeburg and Cologne.

THE SACRED COLLEGE DEVELOPS

The Roman Cardinal-priests used to conduct Divine Service at the three chief “Cemetery Churches” (St. Peter, St. Paul and St. Laurence) which were later raised to patriarchal rank, that of St. Mary Major being added. Each of these four eventually had seven Cardinals attached -making the number twenty-eight. The eldest Cardinal “Archipresbyter” acted as chief assistant to the Pope in all Church functions and was head of the college.

Between the sixth and ninth century the power of the ancient empire-now Christian-was extinguished in Italy, the Pope being left as the chief authority in the city, and the representative of the venerable Roman tradition in face of the barbarian powers established over Western Europe. His primacy-still acknowledged by East and West-grew into a monarchical power over the Western Church, and to it was added the control of great dominions in Italy, and of the Holy City itself. Rome had ceased to be an Imperial or commercial centre; its whole importance was now religious, as the seat of Christ’s Vicar and a great centre of pilgrimage. As the Papal governing authority and responsibilities expanded, so did the functions of the Cardinal-priests as instruments of Papal administration. Under John VIII. , in the ninth century, we find them not only the recognised supervisors of ecclesiastical discipline, but also acting as papal court judges in conflicts between laymen and clerics, and as administrators of vacant monastic property, with power to appoint to abbacies by the Pope’s consent.

THE CARDINAL-DEACONS

Now let us look at another group-the “Cardinal-deacons.” As in the case of the Cardinal-priests, their office started simply as part of the normal machinery of an early Catholic diocese. Deacons-as you may recall from the Acts of the Apostles -were originally church officers ordained to administer charities to the poor. For this purpose, early Christian Rome was divided into seven regions—97). Each of these was put in charge of a regional deacon. One of his tasks, incidentally, was to see that the “dossiers” of the martyrs were kept up to date. Later on, there arose in each region a “diaconia,” a building near a church where poor folk could be received. The custom grew up of the regional deacons attending the Roman diocesan councils, or synods, together with the Cardinal-priests-no doubt they were needed for consultation. They used to sign the acts of the synods with the other clergy, each putting the name of his region. So it was natural that the title “Cardinal” should soon be applied to these seven also.

They eventually ceased to bear their regional titles, because the shape of the city changed in the middle ages. Then other charitable institutions took the place of the deaconries. At the end of the sixth century, Gregory the Great had eighteen deacons; and Adrian I (772–95) fixed the number of deaconal churches at the same figure. Among these were the six “deacons of the Palace,” with their archdeacon, who took turns at serving the Pope’s Mass through the week. The deacons are also canons of the Basilica of St. John Lateran (which is the Cathedral Church of Rome-not St. Peter’s). The archdeacon, being chief supervisor of Ecclesiastical Discipline, as well as Papal finance minister, was the most important cleric in Rome after the Pope himself in the early middle ages. Other persons participating in the Pope’s solemn Mass, or in the ecclesiastical services at the papal churches of the city, are sometimes called “Cardinals” in the middle ages-thus you have “Cardinal-subdeacons” mentioned, and even “Cardinal-acolytes.” But these titles conferred by usage have died out.

The number of Cardinal-deacons was restricted to fourteen by Pope Sixtus V. (the Pope of the Spanish Armada period) in the year 1586; that is, to the original “regional” deacons and the seven “Palatines.”

THE CARDINAL-BISHOPS

Finally, we come to the Cardinal-Bishops. These are not to be confused with Bishops who happen also to be Cardinals, like our own Cardinal Gilroy, who is a Cardinal-priest. They are the holders of six episcopal sees round about Rome, Ostia, Porto, Albano, Sabina, Tusculum (or Frascate) and Praeaeste (or Palestrina). Their position in the Sacred College came about in the same simple way as that of the Cardinal-priests and Cardinal-deacons. As the volume of the Bishop of Rome’s business grew, both in the Church and temporal spheres, he began to call upon the neighbouring Bishops, both to advise him and to represent him here and there at episcopal functions. They soon became senior members of the Pope’s synod, and handled the most important matters. Stephen III. (768–72) ordered that one of these seven-for there were at first seven-to say Mass at the altar of St. Peter in the Lateran Basilica every Sunday. In the early middle ages, while the number of Cardinal-Bishops was always the same, the “suburbicarian” sees they held varied. They were fixed at last in the twelfth century; but their number was reduced to six by Callistus II., who united the see of Santa Rufina with Porto. The Bishop of Ostia is always Dean of the Sacred College.

THE NUMBER OF CARDINALS

In mediaeval times, the number of Cardinals was fifty-three when the College was full-but they were usually far fewer: and at one time, under Pope Alexander IV (1254–66) there were only seven. Their numbers grew in the period of decline in the fourteenth century-for the simple reason that there were two claimants to the Papacy for a long time-one at Rome and one at Avignon-and both “Popes” appointed Cardinals. The Papal pretenders increased to three for a time in the fifteenth century, before the choice of Martin V. at the General Council of Constance put an end to a most terrible scandal.

This Council demanded that the number of the Sacred College should be fixed at twenty-four -and the later Council of Basle made the same demand: but this figure was never accepted. After the Reformation, in 1555, Paul IV. made an agreement with his own Sacred College to make forty the number-but it was finally fixed at seventy by Sixtus V.-the number being selected in imitation of the Seventy Elders of Moses. The full complement now consists of six Cardinal-Bishops, 50 Cardinal-priests, and fourteen Cardinal-deacons. It is interesting to notice that Pius XI. chose the same number, seventy, when he reconstructed the Papal Academy of Sciences in 1927-while the Noble Guard also numbers seventy. The present Pope, while regretting that the limitation prevents the elevation of a number of worthy men to the purple, has chosen to observe it-although, of course, no decision of predecessors can bind him or any subsequent Pontiff, in a matter of this sort.

The Cardinals wear scarlet, not only as a royal or princely colour, but as a symbol of their willingness to shed their blood for the Faith. Our English Cardinal Wolsey-who was not of the stuff of martyrs-made a fashion-note of this scarlet which had a lasting effect on the English House of Parliament. He had the seats of the House of Peers-which were then green-re-upholstered in red to match his colours, and red they have remained ever since. The CardinalBishops’ sees were excepted from the undertaking made by the Pope in the Lateran Treaty with Italy, that Italian sees should only have Italian Bishops; so that those holding these senior positions in the Sacred College may be nominated from any country.

THE PAPAL ELECTION

The great turning-point in the history of the Sacred College-as “Curia” as it is sometimes called-was the decree “In Nomine Domini” of Pope Nicholas II., regulating Papal elections (1059). It was according to Catholic tradition that Bishops should be chosen by their clergy-and the Cardinals, as we have seen, represent the original Council of Roman Clergy. Other methods of choice were often resorted to in early times, however-notably the method of popular acclamation used in the case of the great St. Ambrose of Milan. On one occasion, at least, a Pope was chosen by popular demonstration, and the nobles and people of Rome, in the violent days of the ninth, tenth and eleventh centuries, frequently intervened tumultuously in the choice of Popes. In one scandalous period, the Chair of Peter was filled by a succession of the nominees of two scandalous Roman princesses.

Again, the Emperors-first those at Constantinople and later the German “Holy Roman” Caesars-sometimes enforced their claim to select the “first Bishop of the Empire.” The death of a Pope was all too often the signal for an outburst of gang-fights with the Papacy as the victor’s prize, and parties sometimes resorted to the deposition and murder of opposing candidates.

To settle the election question once for all, Pope Nicholas ruled that the choice of the Pope and the government of the Church in the period of vacancy was to be in the hands of the Sacred College, representing the Roman Church. It became their exclusive right finally by a decrelat of Alexander III. It was some time, however, before the details of election procedure were settled beyond dispute-rival candidates, in the struggles between the Empire and Papacy, were often chosen by Cardinals of the Imperial and anti-Imperial parties: and methods of intimidation and violence were still used.

THE CONCLAVE TODAY

The present election and interregnum law is based on a Constitution of Pius IV. in 1562. At the death of a Pope the Cardinal “Comerlengo” (administrator of the Papal estate) and three others (a Cardinal-Bishop, a Cardinal-priest and a Cardinal-deacon) take over control with strictly limited powers. They decide the details of the Pope’s funeral and prepare the Conclave. The rules of the Conclave are read, and the Cardinals sworn to observe them. After this the officers are appointed. The Cardinals enter their chambers with their secretaries and servants, and the rooms of the Conclave are walled off, access to it being allowed only through a single door, though there are openings for food and other necessaries. Ballots continue until a candidate has received a two-thirds vote-plus one, according to a regulation of the present Pope, made to solve the question whether a Cardinal’s vote for himself is valid. In case of a hopeless deadlock, election may be delegated to a committee-but this has not happened since the fourteenth century. The chosen Pope need not, in theory, be himself a Cardinal-but, since the choice of Urban VI. (which led to the great Schism we have mentioned) Sacred College has always made its selection from its own ranks. The right of “excluding” a Papal candidate was formally exercised by certain Catholic powers, but was suppressed by Pius X. after Austria had used it against Cardinal Rompolla at the time of his own election.

PRINCES OF THE CHURCH

To return, however, to history. The Sacred College not only gained the right to elect the Pope in the twelfth century, but its part in the running of ecclesiastical affairs was also enlarged. The Cardinals became a “permanent synod”-practically the only counsellors of the Pope. Members of the College were appointed as his Legates to deal with foreign princes or preside at Church assemblies abroad in his name. They met the Pope in “Consistory” (the name derives from the Council of Ministers of the later Roman Emperors) where every kind of ecclesiastical business was discussed and decided. Cardinals presided over all the great departments of Church government-the Chancery, the Papal revenue, the offices of the Penitentiary, which administer the disciplinary code, the Holy Office of the Inquisition, the administration of the Papal States. Others were “protectors” of Catholic nations and of religious orders. Naturally enough, it soon came about that they eventually outranked Bishops, Archbishops and even Patriarchs. First this pre-eminence was given to the Cardinal-Bishop alone: but as the Sacred College was a single body, the rest were soon elevated to the same height. Certain extravagant theorists in the middle ages even held that the Cardinals- whether Bishops or not-were successors of the Apostles exercising authority not merely delegated, but of Divine origin: and appeal was made to justify this view to the Seventy Elders in Deuteronony. In the earthly sphere, in any case, they ranked as princes-Cardinal Roland (afterwards Pope Alexander III) addressed the kings as “brothers” at the Diet of Besancon in 1157.

The title “Cardinal” at last came to be strictly reserved to the Roman Church, and a decree to that effect was made by St. Pius V in 1567. Leo X had already given members of the Sacred College precedence over all other prelates in the Church (1514). For centuries before that, however, their superiority had been recognised, for after the time of Alexander III the custom grew up of honouring Bishops and Archbishops by creating them Cardinal-priests (or even, occasionally, Cardinal-deacons). But no episcopate outside the “suburbicarian” ones of Rome has ever carried the Cardinalate with it as a right.

EXTRAVAGANT CLAIMS AND USURPATIONS

There was a time, indeed, when the Cardinals even aspired to secure domination over the Holy See itself, and to change the monarchical government of the Church into an aristocratic oligarchy.

Some canonists set forth the view that the Pope must consult his Cardinals on all important matters: the practice grew up of binding the Pontiff by “Capitulations” at the time of his election to do, or refrain from, certain actions (for instance, regarding the nomination or deposition or punishment of the Cardinals themselves, or in matters of Church appointments and administration). It was held that the Pope could not resign without their permission: that they could rebuke him and even depose him, or call a council to do so (this claim was made to solve the desperate dilemma of the Western Schism) . The attitude of the Popes towards these usurpations varied considerably. Some acted like “Parliamentary” sovereigns-others, like Boniface VIII, resisted firmly. Finally, the practice of “Capitulations” was formally forbidden by Innocent XII, and the Papal prerogatives remained unimpaired.

HOW CARDINALS ARE NOMINATED

Cardinals are nominated by the Pope, and his choice has always been free, though he is guided, as in other matters, by custom and frequently by the counsel of existing members of the Sacred College. The Council of Basle, in the fifteenth century, made a demand that the nominations should depend on the consent of the College: and the latest development of “universalising” its character was anticipated in the decrees of the Council of Trent, which laid down that all Christian nations should be represented in it. Sixtus V-the same Pope who fixed the number at seventy-decreed that above all, the Curia should include Doctors of Theology-at least four of them from the friars. The monarchies of Austria, Spain and Portugal were formerly consulted, when there was a question of raising a bishop of their dominions to the purple: and they also possessed national “Cardinal-Protectors.”

At the Vatican Council in 1870, the desirability of having scholarly, wise and experienced men from every nation for the Sacred College and the Roman Congregations was recognised. The rule now observed is that the person nominated must have the qualities required for the Bishop’s office, and be at least thirty years old, except in the case of the Cardinal-deacons, who must be over twenty-one.

In former times, these latter were often deacons and occasionally not even in deacon’s orders. Thus, Cesare Borgia, who had been a Cardinal, was enabled by dispensation to return to lay life: and such eminent Princes of the Church as Cardinal Mazarin, the minister of Louis XIV of France, and Cardinal Antonelli, Secretary of State to Pope Pius IX were never raised to the priesthood. The rule today is that a Cardinal-deacon must receive deacon’s orders within a year of his appointment: and actually, no Cardinals who are not in priest’s orders have been appointed for many years. Persons illegitimately born are ineligible, as well as the relatives of existing Cardinals-but these disqualifications can be dispensed with by the Pope.

INSTALLATION CEREMONY

Cardinals are created in Secret Consistory, those resident in Rome being informed by messenger of their nomination. The same day the newly-made Cardinals meet in the Papal apartments of the Vatican, the scarlet “zucchetta” or skull-cap being handed to them in the ante-chamber. After they have taken a special oath of obedience, the “Red Hat” is conferred in public Consistory. Next comes the “Aperitio oris” (opening of the mouth) in Secret Consistory, and the “Clausura oris” (Closing of the mouth) at its conclusion, symbolising the Cardinal’s duty to give wise counsel to the Holy Father and to keep the secrets of their office. The ring is given to each, together with the “title” or Church by which he is henceforth to be known in the Curia.

It will be seen that the Church, in the creation of the princely counsellors of the See of Peter, follows her usual custom of emphasising their dignity and responsibilities by solemn symbolic ceremonies. Similar symbolic rites were formerly general in the conferring of high temporal office also-usually accompanied by religious ceremony: and remnants of these observances yet remain in England, for example, in the magnificent Christian ceremony in which the king is invested with his office. Other dignitaries have robes of office and neck-chains or other symbols which are conferred upon them in solemn fashion and worn on great occasions. In modern times, at least in civilian life, public ceremonial of this kind has fallen into desuetude, and is often held to be ridiculous as well as undemocratic. It may be doubted, however, whether we have gained by depriving our leaders of the outward dignity of office and by the abandonment of ceremonial which emphasised the truth that “The powers that be are ordained of God,” and that they have to answer to Him, as well as to their electors, for their use of the authority conferred upon them.

If, in the future, the full Christian order should ever return to our public life, we may expect to see a revival in the state of the grace and solemn dignity with which the Church has never ceased to surround her great personages. That splendour is not intended to minister to their vanity, but to remind others that lawful authority is a sacred thing, to be held as such both by its bearers and by the people above whom they are lifted by power conferred for the common good.

CARDINAL GILROY’S TITULAR CHURCH

A word may fittingly be said here about the “titular Church” of our own Cardinal Gilroy. It is the Church of the Four Crowned Martyrs (“Quattro Incoronati”)-one of the Lenten Stations in Rome (for Monday in the fourth week of Lent). This massive building stands between the Colosseum (the former amphitheatre where the martyrs were put to death) and the Irish College dominating the slopes of the Coelian Hill. Parts of it are very old, but it has been much reconstructed and restored, so that architects and archivists have some trouble in distinguishing the ancient from the new in this great amalgamation.

And the Crowned Martyrs? If you have a missal, you will find their feast on November 8. For a long time their names were unknown, but they have been discovered later to be Severus, Severianus, Carpophorus, and Victorinus, who were scourged to death in Rome under the Emperors Diocletian and Maximian in A.D. 303. It seems probable that they were Christian soldiers who refused the usual ceremonial homage to the “Divine” Imperial symbols, or to the Roman gods.

Together with their relics were enshrined those of four other martyrs-apparently sufferers in the same general persecution, from the land now known as Hungary. These were Claudius, Nicostratus, Castor and Simplicianus: they were sculptors or metal-workers, who were martyred rather than make idols for a pagan temple. The conjunction of soldiers and artisans is particularly fitting in the case of the present Australian Cardinal, a man of the people who has served his country in war. It is to be hoped that Catholics who pray-as all should-for those who bear authority in our own Church, will not forget to invoke on his behalf these valiant bearers of Christ’s Cross and wearers of His Crown.

WHAT THE CARDINALS DO

It would take a volume of some size to give adequate details about the work done by Cardinals today either as individuals or in College: and we can only give a few brief indications here.

To begin with, we must notice that, except when they are Bishops of foreign sees-like Cardinal Gilroy or Cardinal Griffin-they are nominally obliged to reside in Rome or in the former Papal States, and cannot leave except by order or permission of the Pope. A famous exception to this rule was the late Cardinal Newman, who was granted a special permission, enabling him to continue residence in England after being raised to the purple. The “Suburbicarian” Cardinal-Bishops are resident in Rome, too, by ancient custom.

The reason for this rule is plain enough. The Cardinals are described in Canon Law as the Senate of the Roman Pontiff and his principal counsellors and assistants in the government of the Church. They still assist the Pope in the solemn liturgical ceremonies of the Roman Churches; they are consulted by him, as individuals and in consistory, on matters of Church government: and they super-vise the eleven “Congregations,” which may be compared to departmental ministries. All the Cardinals-even those who are seldom at Rome, are members of one or more of these eleven Congregations. The number was formerly fifteen-including several concerned with the secular administration of the Papal territory. Each is presided over by a Cardinal Prefect, except where the Pope himself is president, when he is aided by a Cardinal secretary.

The full list of Congregations, with their functions, is as follows:

The Holy Office has supervision in questions of doctrinal and moral orthodoxy, and acts as tribunal in certain “reserved cases” and in marriage questions which are concerned with “mixed” marriages and the “Pauline privilege.” It also controls the censorship of books.

The Consistorial Congregation prepares business for the Consistory of Cardinals, and creates new dioceses, provinces, etc, in non-missionary countries. It also makes proposals for the appointment of Bishops.

That of Sacramental Discipline attends to the right carrying out of the laws relating to the administration of the Sacraments-and, in particular, with certain classes of marriage cases.

That of the Council is charged with care of the discipline of the secular clergy, while that of the Religious Orders and Congregations, of both sexes, is attended to by the Congregation for Religious Affairs.

“Propaganda Fide” has supreme control of all missionary churches and of the training of missionaries.

The Congregation of Sacred Rites deals with matters concerning the liturgy of the Latin Churches; that of Ceremonies, with the Pontifical Ceremonial of the Roman Church. It also carries out the processes of Canonisation and Beatification.

“Extraordinary Ecclesiastical Affairs” are the concern of a Congregation which deals with civil governments, and with special matters committed to it by the Pope.

Universities, Institutes and Seminaries are supervised by the “Congregation of Seminary and University Studies.” Finally, the affairs of the non-Latin “Uniate” Churches are committed to the Congregation for the Eastern Church.

Of all these, the Pope himself presides at present over three-the Holy Office, the Consistorial, and that of the Eastern Church.

There are also three Tribunals, that of the Apostolic Penitentiary, the Signature and the Rota, of which the first two are presided over by Cardinals. The Penitentiary has jurisdiction in “internal” matters-that is, those relating to cases of conscience and the confessional-and has power to grant graces and dispensations of all kinds. Its presiding Cardinal is called the Chief Penitentiary.

The Signatura is concerned chiefly with appeals against sentences of the Rota, which tries in the first instance the cases -including criminal cases-handed over to it by the Pope, and appeals from Bishops’ tribunals.

The “Offices” established to carry out the Pope’s business and the Apostolic Chancellery, the “Dataria,” the Apostolic Camera and the Secretariate of State. All have Cardinals at their head. The Chancellery drafts and sends out “Bulls”-the solemn public letters of the Pope-the Dataria handles “provisions” to benefices reserved for Papal nomination, the Camera attends to the temporal goods and rights of the Holy See, especially during vacancy, when the Cardinal “Camerlenge” presides over the Sacred College. The Secretariate of State is the Pope’s private office, presided over by the Cardinal Secretary of State. It is divided into sections dealing with extraordinary affairs, ordinary affairs (including the grant of Papal Honours) and the despatching of Papal Briefs addressed to various exalted personages.

Cardinals may be sent abroad on especially solemn or serious occasions as Legates “a latere”-or special representatives of the Pope. We have had two eminent visitations of this kind in the present century in Australia on the occasions of the world Eucharistic Congress at Sydney in 1928, and our own Centenary Eucharistic Congress held at Melbourne in 1934.

SPECIAL OFFICERS

Each of the three orders of Cardinals has its Dean, or senior member. The Dean or the Cardinal Bishop, as we have seen, is the Bishop of Ostia, at present the ancient Cardinal Gianaro Pignatelli di Belmonte, who is also Dean and spokesman for the whole College. He is 98 years old, The “Camerlengo of the Holy Roman Church,” however-a special officer for interregnum periods- presides over the deliberations between the death of a Pope and the election of his successor. He is not to be confused with the other “Camerlengo” (Camerarius) who administers the revenues of the Sacred College.

The Cardinal-Vicar is Vice-Bishop of Rome, acting for the Pope in the spiritual administration of the city and surrounding district. The Vicar was originally nominated only when the Pope was absent from Rome: but later the duties of the office were exercised even during his presence. Its authority developed during the “Avignon Captivity” of the fourteenth century, when the Popes themselves lived permanently for many years in Southern France, leaving their vicars in full control. The Cardinal-Vicar is now appointed for life, like other Bishops, with full episcopal jurisdiction over the city of Rome and a region for forty miles around it. His authority continues during the vacancy of the Holy See, and he is assisted by a Vice-Vicar or “Vicegerens”-a Bishop, but not a Cardinal, who can represent him and exercise jurisdiction in his name. Ordinations in the city are commonly conferred by the Cardinal-Vicar or Vicegerens.

The Cardinal Secretary of State is the most powerful personage in the Church after the Pope himself; he is his chief adviser of the Pontiff, remaining almost constantly beside him, and acting, in effect, as the Church’s “Prime Minister.” In particular, he acts on his behalf in his relations with Governments. Other offices which may be mentioned here are the Cardinal-Archpriest of St. Peter’s-whose title describes his charge of the Papal basilica, and the CardinalLibrarian and Clochorist, who looks after the enormous Vatican Library.

ROBES AND INSIGNIA

The chief symbol of the Cardinal’s rank is the Red Hat-though this is not now worn except at the Consistory, where the creations actually take place. They also wear a red biretta. The mantle was scarlet-first granted, it is said, by Pope Boniface VIII. All are dressed alike, Cardinal-priests and Cardinal-Deacons being now permitted to wear the pectoral cross, even in the Pope’s presence. The Ring which they receive from the Holy Father is adorned with a sapphire stone.

A certain amount of nonsense-tinged with malice-has appeared in the Press on the subject of the cost of the Cardinal’s insignia. It may be asserted confidently that many of the existing Cardinals are far too poor to expend large sums on their robes-some have had robes of their predecessors altered to fit them. There is no basis whatever for the figure of £6000 which has been mentioned in this connection.

THE RECENT APPOINTMENTS

The recent appointments to the Sacred College caused a sensation, both because of their unprecedented number on a single occasion, and also because so many were non-Italian, and so few Italian. It is rather too much, however, to use the word “revolutionary” in describing them, for the principle of “universalising” the College was laid down, as we saw at Trent, and the practice of modern Popes has been gradually to give more and more countries representation. Now it is true that non-Italians now for the first time outnumber Italians: they had a small majority, both under Benedict XV and under the last Pope, and the Italians have never been so numerous as to dominate a conclave, even had they wished to do so, since that requires a two-thirds majority. The present non-Italian majority is ten-one recently appointed Cardinal, Archbishop Glennon of St. Louis, U.S.A., having died in Ireland on his way home, and Cardinal Von Galen, of Munster, a short time after his return. However, the question of whether the next Pope is to be Italian or not is not likely to be decided by an electoral competition influenced by national or cultural prejudices.

PIUS XII ON THE SACRED COLLEGE

The views and aims of the Holy Father in relation to the recent appointments can best be expressed in his own words, spoken to the world last Christmas (1945) over the Vatican Radio. His Holiness then said:

“For the first time since the Lord, despite our unworthiness, willed to raise Us to the Pontificate, We decided to proceed, if it pleased God, to the appointment of new members to the Sacred College.

“Last Christmas We hinted at the grave and manifold difficulties which then prevented Us from filling the numerous vacancies which had occurred in the Roman Curia.

“How pleased are We, therefore, now to see Ourselves here surrounded by such a considerable number of new Cardinals who by their eminent virtues and signal merits appear to Us particularly worthy of the Sacred Purple.

“This exceptional event deserves in Our eyes to be illustrated with special consideration.

“We shall first of all note that with these promotions the Sacred College will be complete. As is known, Our predecessor of happy memory with his “Postquam dedimus,” after pointing out that while in the olden days the Sacred College had been kept too small in recent times it had become too large, fixed the number of Cardinals at 70 in similarity with the Seniors of Israel.

SEVENTY LIMIT OBSERVED

“While completing the full number, We have observed the limit laid down.

“We regret that such a limit has prevented Us from including in this first creation several other prelates and clerical men, especially of the Roman Curia and clergy who for the services rendered to the Holy See might have been worthy of it.

“It was the more necessary not to exceed the fixed number inasmuch as never before were so many cardinals, namely 32, created in one single consistory.

“The two largest creations were those of Leo X and Pius XII. While Leo X in the Consistory of June 26, 1517, had displayed the intention of creating 27 Cardinals, he created 31 of them in the subsequent Consistory of the same year.

“Pius VII. on his return to Rome, finding the Sacred College sadly depleted, due to the adverse events of the time, created in the Consistory of March 8, 1816, 31 Cardinals.

UNIVERSALITY OF THE CHURCH

“Another feature of this creation is the variety of nations to whom the future Cardinals belong. We have willed in fact that the greatest possible number of races of people should be represented as a true reflection of the universality of the Church.’

“In the recent years of Our Pontificate we have seen, despite the war and even because of the war, an influx from all nations and from the most distant lands into the Eternal City, so that now that the world conflict is ended we shall have the consolation, God willing, of seeing gathered around Us new members of the Sacred College coming from the five corners of the world.

“Rome thus really appears as an Eternal City, a Universal City, the Capital City of the world, the urbs par excellence, the City of which all are citizens, the City See of the Vicar of Christ towards which are turned the eyes of the Catholic world.

“Neither will Italy, the blessed land which gathers this Rome to her breast suffer diminution.

“On the contrary, she will share in the eyes of all peoples this grandeur and this universality. The Catholic Church of which Rome is the centre is supernationally its own essence.

“She is Mother and, therefore, no stranger in any place. She lives, and by her nature must live. in all peoples.

“The Church represents more than the family-the Mystic Body of Christ.”

MEN IN PERILOUS STATIONS

For some of the men recently raised to the Sacred College, the reminder of martyrdom in the scarlet of their robes is no mere antique symbol, but the sign of a contemporary reality in the churches of their lands.

Joseph Mindszenti, the Cardinal of Eszrtergom, in Hungary, suffered deportation and imprisonment at the hands of the Nazis, and has been threatened by the Red forces now dominant in East Europe on account of his bold denunciation of the tyranny now shadowing his country. The people are with him-they have cast out the Socialist-Communist “provisional” regime in the recent elections-but majorities count little against the force at the disposal of an alien power and its Quislings: and the life of this Cardinal is a threatened one.

Cardinal Sapieha, of Cracow, returned to a Poland in which “the Soviet army lives on the produce of the land and removes everything that it cannot consume or use on the spot.” It is a land of starvation and misery, shorn of millions of its children, while the rest are subjected to a Communist-controlled regime. So far, no open attack has been made against religious worship here since the fall of the Nazis, but the situation is unstable and the ruling powers bitterly hostile.

The Cardinals of Berlin (Von Preysing) and Munster (Von Galen) withstood the Nazis to the face through the dark years of Hitler’s tyranny and the war. Von Preysing-already plundered by the Russian “liberators”-has now to renew the fight against Communism which has suppressed the freedom of the Christian schools. Von Galen, rated one of “the world’s five great men of the year” in 1941 in America, for his moral courage against Hitlerism, at the end of his life showed the same bold spirit in protesting against the “blanket” war-guilt theory as applied to Germany.

The three new French Cardinals bring the total of French members of the Sacred College to six. They go to carry on the Christian fight in a land exhausted and a prey to bitter internal faction, where Communism is perilously strong-but one, too, where Catholic influence in the social and political field are vigorously alive.

THE AMERICAN LANDS AND ENGLAND

The South American Cardinals-six have been created-have the task of raising the rather low level of Christian practice among their Catholic peoples-many of mixed blood and very varying levels of culture-and of fighting in the cause of Christian justice: a cause much neglected in lands where luxury stands cheek-by-jowl with abject poverty.

Those of North America-four new ones in U.S.A. and one in Canada-dwell in a world of tolerance and relative prosperity, where the Church’s influence is freely exercised, but where it is “up against” an insolent self-confidence in the secularist spirit which affects even Catholics. The United States has immense power-the greatest in the world- and everything may depend on whether that power is exerted in the cause of true human values-which are, in reality, religious values inseparable from religious truth. Cardinal Spellman, of New York, and his companions, stand at a vital key-point in the world-conflict now being waged-may they prove worthy of their tremendous trust!

England’s Cardinal Griffin leads a Church whose prestige is rising and whose intellectual leadership-mainly from brilliant converts-is of unparalleled influence over the whole English-speaking world. The prejudice against “Popery” is still a force, but ignorant terrors have grown weaker, and many educated, serious Christians outside the Catholic fold are prepared to stand with the Cardinal and his people in the fight for spiritual and social vitality against the materialism which is bringing decay and death upon a great nation. The problems are immense-finance to rebuild blitzed churches and maintain an increasingly expensive educational equipment-but they certainly will be surmounted.

SPAIN AND THE OUTER MISSION FIELDS

Of Spain’s future no one can be sure, at a time when all the anti-Christian forces in the world seem to be concentrating in order to accomplish her ruin. Her three new Cardinals go back to a nation in which the Church has passed through a savage persecution to blood, in which Bishops, clergy and religious were slaughtered without mercy. Will we live to see more added to the 11,000 martyrs of the Civil War? Will the scarlet of the new Cardinals be stained with a new dye-the red of their blood?

Finally, we have Asia and Africa represented by Syrian and Armenian Cardinals, two “Uniate” Oriental churches, a Portuguese Bishop from Eastern South Africa, and a Chinese-the first of his race to be raised to the Sacred Purple. These mark the beginning of a process which will change the composition of the Sacred College very radically, filling it more and more with leaders from the growing missionary churches. In fifty years-Pius XI forecast-Christians in Europe may be a small minority, and the strength of Catholic Christendom may lie in this outer world. May the Light of Christ spread in it-and may we, in Australia, play our part worthily in building for Christ His new Kingdom!

********

All Souls Novena

DANIEL A. LORD, S.J

INDEX

FIRST DAY

Sin is the one thing that holds back the progress of men and women. True progress is man’s ascent to God. Only sin blocks his path.

Vice and crime throw human beings back to animal levels when they should be mounting toward the angels.

Death in mortal sin means the complete failure that is hell. It flings a man, who is destined for eternal happiness, into eternal loss and pain.

Death in venial sin or with the punishment due to sin still on the soul means a halt in the progress toward heaven. The poor soul-poor indeed in his eagerness to reach God and the tedious, painful delay that keeps him from God-must linger in God’s prison-house.

This is the sad land of purgatory.

It is a place of anxious, almost impatient waiting.

Since there are in purgatory relatives we loved and friends we knew and thousands of others who call to us for help, we pause and say:

THE PRAYER FOR THE HOLY SOULS

O God, the creator and redeemer of all the faithful, grant to the souls of thy servants and handmaids departed, the remission of all their sins; that through pious supplications they may obtain the pardon they have always desired. Who livest and reignest with God the Father in the unity of the Holy Ghost, God, world without end. Amen.

SECOND DAY

Nothing else is humanly harder to bear than painful waiting.

All the souls in purgatory are sure one day to reach heaven. They know how wonderful heaven is and how desirable is

God. But they cannot follow the violent impulse that drives them toward their happiness. They must hunger for God and still be withheld from the possession of Him.

In hell there is only bleak and hopeless despair.

In purgatory there is hope and certainty and love and eagerness-and long periods of waiting . . . waiting . . . waiting . . .

There is suffering too in purgatory, the suffering that washes away in flame the stains of guilt and cleanses as with fire the soul that will eventually enter into the presence of the spotless God. But the real pain of purgatory is that awful eagerness for God who is just out of reach, and that longing to go home to heaven, which is almost seen but as yet unattainable.

Nothing defiled can enter heaven; that we know. So purgatory is the place where defilement is removed, where the souls that are destined for glory are prepared by punishment and tedious delay for their glorious home-coming with God.

For the love we bear our friends in purgatory we pray:

The Prayer for the Holy Souls (recite the prayer on page 1)

THIRD DAY

This life on earth is, as we have heard a thousand times, a time of merit.

When through the Church’s indulgences we avail ourselves of the merits of Christ and of the saints, we can wipe away the guilt of forgiven sins and eliminate the punishment due to venial sins, as we can also do through penance and deeds of charity.

But once the soul enters purgatory, the time for that soul to gain merit is ended.

When we suffer on earth, we can offer our suffering to God, increasing thereby our future happiness in heaven and canceling out the pains of purgatory. When a soul suffers in purgatory, he slowly and tediously cancels the debts of sins; he gains no further merit for heaven.

Nor are there indulgences in purgatory, nor fresh use of the merits of Christ, of His Mother, and of the saints.

Thanks however to our union in the Mystical Body of Christ, thanks to the communion of the saints, we can gain merit for the suffering souls. We can win indulgences and apply them to the period of waiting of these souls. We can cut their sufferings and speed their entry into heaven by whatever of good that we offer for them on earth.

In all generosity we say for these souls who depend upon us:

The Prayer for the Holy Souls (recite the prayer on page 1)

FOURTH DAY

Swiftly the memory even of the dear dead seems to pass from human minds.

Memory is like the tears upon a coffin, swiftly evaporated, quickly dried.

The rush of the days fills the minds and hands of the living. The press of old associations and the establishment of new friends helps supplant and elbow into dusty corners of our minds the friends now hidden in God’s penitentiary. But these prisoners do not forget us.

In the slow, painful dragging of the days they have time to remember. They are so hungry for God that they have little heart for new companions. They are made sensitive -as pain always makes us sensitive-to memory, to neglect, to hope for deliverance, to the knowledge that those who once cried aloud their love have so swiftly forgotten. With gratitude do they think of those who do remember them.

With sadness they think of those who have so swiftly dropped them.

They pray to God, who loves them even in their exile, for the thoughtful and the mindful. They beg that those who have pushed them away for the near and the living will drop into their prison house a thought, a prayer, a good deed in ransom.

Remembering our own dear dead, we pray for them:

The Prayer for the Holy Souls (recite the prayer on page 1)

FIFTH DAY

These in purgatory are the friends of God.

These are the souls who will in a short time be glorious and powerful saints in heaven.

Their souls are saved. Their crowns are awaiting them. Their thrones are prepared, and their mansions are ready. God loves them deeply, as He loves all those faithful sons and daughters who fought the good fight. Their prayers for others come straight to His throne. They can no longer pray for themselves; their time to merit is over. They can pray and they do pray for those on earth whom they love.

That loving mother in purgatory is interceding for her children. . . . That devoted father is now more devoted. . . .

Those friends have not forgotten the value of their friendship. . . . Those relatives are bound to us with ties much closer than blood.

Most of all the holy souls pray for their benefactors. Our slight remembering of them wins for us a great measure of intercession from them. We pray thoughtlessly; they pray with the intensity of souls who are coming ever closer to God.

We ask for deliverance for them; they beg God for a thousand blessings for us.

In sheer wisdom and to our own advantage we say:

The Prayer for the Holy Souls (recite the prayer on page 1)

SIXTH DAY

Our souls hunger for God with far more intensity than ever a starving body hungers for food.

Here in this world we are distracted by the pressure of the life about us.

In purgatory there are no distractions.

Their eyes fixed on the closed gates of heaven, the holy souls long for God, yearn for God, hunger and thirst for God. The terms of their sentence ring in their ears: “Thus and thus long shall you remain separated from your joy, until these sins and these misdeeds and these blemishes and these stains have been atoned for.”

Balanced against their consuming hunger for God is their certainty that they would not dare enter His presence with the slightest stain upon them. They almost wish that the fires burned more fiercely and more rapidly so that the pain could be at once more intense and more cleansing.

Imagine then their gratitude for every prayer or good deed by which we help them cleanse their souls and speed them on their way to God.

Imagine the leaping joy with which they welcome any act by which we cut their sentence, shorten their stay in purgatory, and hasten their entrance into heaven.

We can give joy to these holy souls here and now as we say:

The Prayer for the Holy Souls (recite the prayer on page 1)

SEVENTH DAY

What food is to a starving man . . .

What drink is to the parched sailor riding the tropic seas on a raft . . .

What light is to the man long blind . . .

What restored health is to the patient invalid . . .

What freedom is to the prisoner . . .

All this and far, far more is release from purgatory to a holy soul.

And when food . . . light . . . health . . . freedom come suddenly, unexpectedly, the human heart leaps and bounds, and the soul knows the sharp ecstasy of joy.

So it is with each prayer that we say for the beseeching souls in purgatory.

Our prayer is bread and water and light and health; it is a reprieve and a release and freedom and a home-coming. It is the cutting of bonds, the lessening of weary waiting, the termination of exile, the sudden glorious lift that picks them up and seems almost to shoot them toward the center of their joy, God Himself.

For us that prayer is an almost careless gesture. For us a routine act of charity.

. . Prayer, an alms, a bit of fasting, a good deed done . . forgotten in the doing. For them something beyond price and measure, something for which they can repay us only in the immortal coin of eternity.

Such a good deed we perform as we pray:

The Prayer for the Holy Souls (recite the prayer on page 1)

EIGHTH DAY

Then on a happy day release comes.

Perhaps for souls whose friends on earth forgot them and for whom because of valid reasons God showed no special consideration that release comes only at the end of long and bitter centuries. Perhaps it comes far sooner than they dared to hope. Their friends have remembered them. Prayers have poured in upon them. God has accepted these in part or in full payment of their debt.

But late or soon the release comes, the sentence is finished, the grim gates of purgatory swing open. Ahead are the white and shining portals of the eternal city.

Like the rush of light the released soul sweeps upward toward God.

Fierce winds have not the fierce intensity that marks this flight of a soul from exile to the happiness for which God destined it.

Then in the presence of God there is the moment of triumph, the welcome by the Trinity, the entrance into the heavenly mansion . . . the enthronement of another saint. As that moment shall begin for that soul, an eternity of bliss and incomparable happiness that shall be without flaw, never to be marred by uncertainty or disillusionment. For then, the soul shall possess God for all eternity.

We can have part in that swift flight to joy if we pray:

The Prayer for the Holy Souls (recite the prayer on page 1)

NINTH DAY

Joy does not cause the souls in heaven to forget.

On the contrary joy makes them more alive to memory.

The soul that has entered into bliss does not for a second forget the generous friends on earth who helped him reach

God and glory.

Now a saint in heaven, he uses to the full his power of intercession.

He prays God to be merciful and generous to the generous.

By name he mentions to Christ and to Mary those who mentioned his name when he was helpless to help himself. He speaks to the Trinity about his friends.

He becomes in effect a mighty benefactor, persuasively beseeching God to extend mercy and grant favours to those who remembered him in purgatory.

He prays with the fervour of new-found joy that their passage through life will be safe, their stay in purgatory brief, their entrance into heaven swift and triumphant. He prays that one day they too might behold the beatific vision and see God, face to face through the endlessness of eternity. It is their unselfish urge to share so great a bliss that we ask them to send us.

To help insure for ourselves a shortened purgatory, we pray:

The Prayer for the Holy Souls (recite the prayer on page 1)

********

An Adult Confession Book

REV. M. B. HERIOT

INDEX

“Peace be to you!” These are the words of Christ Himself when He was instituting the Sacrament of Confession, on the first Easter Sunday. Knowing human nature, He realised that a person cannot be at peace, and therefore cannot be happy, if there is a barrier between his soul and God. And so, Christ, who came on earth to bring “peace to men of good-will,” devised a means of removing that barrier. The barrier, of course, is sin; the means of removing it, is Confession.

Our Lord said: “Whose sins you shall forgive, they shall be forgiven them.” Naturally an apostle of those days, or a priest of today, would find it impossible to know the sins of another person unless that person confessed them himself.

Confessing sins to a priest is the way Christ established to forgive sins; to make a good confession then, is of supreme importance. All that you have to do is to follow this booklet, and you will make a good confession.

Confession—gateway to peace on earth; gateway to happiness in heaven.

YOUR FIRST CONFESSION

For most converts, though by no means all, the first Confession is a difficult one. That is quite understandable, because probably it is the first time in your life that you have laid bare your soul to another person. After the Confession however, you will realise that you have imagined that this Sacrament is more difficult than it actually is, and that your sense of relief is great. The simple rule to follow is: be guided by the priest who instructed you.

When you are selecting your first confessor you have a choice. You may either confess to the priest who instructed you, or you may choose a priest, who would not know you at all. This is purely a matter of your personal preference. Some find it easier to go to a priest they know, others to one they do not know.

.When you are making your first Confession, if you feel it an ordeal, you may commence with this, “Father, I am a convert. I am making my first Confession. Will you help me?” The priest with real sympathy for you, and appreciation of your good-will, will ask a series of questions that will cover all the sins that you might have committed; usually all you have to do is answer a direct “Yes, Father,” or “No, Father” to his questions.

Without doubt, such a Confession would be a good one, and anyone finding his first Confession arduous may safely follow this method.

A better method is to prepare all the recital yourself by reading carefully through these pages. Then your Confession would be; “Father, I am a convert. I am making my first Confession, and these are my sins, etc., etc.”

Because the priest wants to hear the names of the sins, rather than a detailed description of them, the penitent uses a sentence beginning with “I’ and finishing with “times.” For example, “I told a lie, three times.” “I struck my brother in anger, four times.” There are two requirements in confessing a sin (1) the name (2) the number of times.

And now a word about each of the requirements. The name of the sin will suggest itself to you when you read through the list of sins given in this booklet under the heading of “Examination of Conscience,” page 10.

In determining your sins, you need not include things which, though really sinful, were not recognised as sinful at the time. For instance, God would not hold the cannibals guilty of murder, providing they did not know that this was evil. It is an important point to make because converts generally find out more sins through the course of instructions, than they were aware of previously.

Nor are you obliged to confess anything that you are not certain you committed. God did not devise Confession to be a harrowing experience, but a healthy and a helpful relief from the burden of sin. If it would make you feel better, you may say, “I am not certain of this, but I wish to confess in as far as I was guilty. . . .”

In preparing for Confession (whether it be his first Confession or a later one), a person of good-will could easily forget some of his sins. But if he has made an honest effort, he need not disturb himself at all. People do forget things at one time or another in life. If the forgotten sin was a mortal sin, it must be confessed at the next ordinary Confession-say in a month’s time. You would then say “Father, in my last Confession I forgot to mention . . .” This forgotten sin is forgiven at the same moment as the Confessed sins are forgiven.

Regarding the number of times that you have committed the sin, you realize that you will not remember all the small wrong things that you have done since infancy. God does not expect the impossible from you in recalling the exact number of times. Again, all God wants is an honest effort on your part. Serious sins, ones that are called “mortal sins,” often stand out so clearly in a person’s mind, that you can give the precise number of times that he committed them. The number of less serious sins or “venial sins,” he will not recall as readily.

The common-sense approach to the “number” is where you remember the actual number confess, for example, “four times”; where you are more vague, say “about”; where you often sin, say “four times daily,” or “twice each week” or “six times a month.”

Despite all this introduction to the Sacrament, the first Confession could well be hard for you. If you make your honest effort, you can be assured that all the work you put into the preparation is very pleasing to God, and a sure sign of your sincerity. Later, Confessions will be easier, but if you are unsure of yourself, use the formula. “Father, I am a convert. Would you mind helping me?” Such a beginning may be necessary for some time to come.

When you have read through the above, you will have clear ideas about your sins, and their number. That is good because God wants you to use this means as a motive for genuine sorrow, as a method of repairing the past, and a support for the future, in other words, as an essential part of your religious life.

THE FALLEN-AWAY CATHOLIC

A Catholic who has lapsed from the practice of the faith for a long time can regard himself almost as a convert in the preparation for the first Confession after his return to God. It is a good thing for him to realize the precise reason that kept him away from God for so long; for example, carelessness, continual drinking, being married out of the Church, a certain type of impurity, etc.

His Confession could commence with “Father, I have not been to Confession for a long time. It is because I was divorced and remarried, or I have been at sea, or I have been taking too much drink for years now.” These reasons would indicate to the priest a course to follow in helping you with your Confession.

MAKING A GOOD CONFESSION

Briefly, there are three stages in the Confession itself: 1. Before Confession; 2. At Confession; 3. After Confession.

BEFORE CONFESSION

The reason we go to Confession is either to establish, re-establish or confirm our friendship with God, so it is obvious that we need God’s help. Ask for it in words like these:

“Dear Jesus, I wish to make a genuine Confession. Help me to remember my sins and to be truly sorry for them.”

“Mary, my mother, you actually saw what it cost your Son to win forgiveness of my sins. Help me to make the kind of Confession you would approve of.”

“Holy Spirit of God, Spirit of Truth and Wisdom and Strength, help me to know all my sins; to be sorry for them; to confess them properly; to resolve not to commit these same sins again; to say the penance well.”

Then we need to know our sins, and in this regard there are a few hints that are helpful.

Every sin has a Name.

You have to confess the name, and, if it is a mortal sin, how many times it was committed. A mortal sin requires all three conditions set out below. If any one of these conditions is missing, it is definitely no mortal sin.

1. It must have been serious, for example murder.

2. You must have been aware at the time you sinned that it was serious.

3. You must have really wanted to commit this thing which you considered to be seriously sinful.

AN EXAMINATION OF CONSCIENCE

To find out the sins you ought to confess all you need to do is ask yourself the following questions, and answer them truthfully to yourself. When your conscience tells you that you have committed one of these things, then you have to ask yourself, how many times. The final verdict of your conscience would then be “I gambled excessively twice,” this examination of conscience is exhaustive. It is too full for ordinary use, but it covers all that is needed by a convert or a fallen-away Catholic. The ordinary practical Catholic will find briefer examinations of conscience later in the pamphlet.

In this examination of conscience, there is a variety of styles of type to indicate which type of sin. venial sins

Venial sins which may become Mortal sins

MORTAL SINS

FIRST COMMANDMENT

Did I miss my prayers for a long time through laziness or carelessness?

Did I have deliberate distractions in my prayers?

Did I DENY THAT I WAS A CATHOLIC? or THAT I BELIEVED IN GOD?

Did I ridicule religion? or fail to stand up for it?

Did I, as a Catholic, TAKE AN ACTIVE PART IN NON-CATHOLIC SERVICES? or ATTEND THEM

WITHOUT PERMISSION?

Did I take seriously, the advice of Astrologers, superstitious practices? or fortune telling?

SECOND COMMANDMENT

Did I use God’s Name or the Holy Names, “Jesus,” or “Christ” without due respect? Did I lack respect for God’s House, talking in the Church, etc.?

Did I speak disrespectfully to, or of, priests, brothers or nuns?

Did I TELL A LIE UNDER OATH?

THIRD COMMANDMENT

Did I MISS MASS ON SUNDAYS OR DAYS OF OBLIGATION THROUGH MY OWN FAULT? Did I ARRIVE AFTER THE OFFERTORY OF THE MASS? or LEAVE BEFORE THE COMMUNION

WITHOUT A PROPER EXCUSE?

Did I come late or go early from Mass?

Did I DO UNNECESSARY PHYSICAL WORK FOR A LONG TIME ON SUNDAYS? HOW LONG?

FOURTH COMMANDMENT

FOR FATHERS

Did I PROVIDE, FOR THE MATERIAL NECESSITIES OF MY WIFE AND FAMILY? Did I waste money that should have been used on the family?

Did I take due care of the health of my wife and family?

Did I put my wife in the first place in my life? pray for her?

Did I speak sharply to her, especially in the presence of the children or others? Did I take an interest in the children, and watch over their leisure and companionship? Did I fail to correct them?

Did I give bad example to them through neglect of my religion?

Was I domineering or intolerant, or impatient?

Have I given sensible sex instruction to my sons when it was needed?,

Did I make my children respect and obey their mother?

HAVE I WARNED MY FAMILY OF THE DANGERS AND DIFFICULTIES OF MIXED MARRIAGES? FOR MOTHERS

Did I provide for the material needs of my husband and family?

Did I put my husband first in my life? above the children? pray for him? Did I DENY HIM HIS MARRIAGE RIGHTS (without reason )?

Did I belittle him before the children or others? was I disagreeable to him?

Were my children BAPTISED SOON ENOUGH AFTER BIRTH?

Did I treat each child fairly? love each one? correct each one?

Did I see to it that they said their prayers regularly? went to Mass, Confession and Holy Communion? Have I taught my children the essential elements of religion to the extent of their need?

Did I prepare my daughters for their normal physical development?

Did I sensibly forewarn my daughters of the dangers of company-keeping by pointing out the difficulties young men usually experience in courting, due to their normal masculine temperament?

Are my daughters able to confide in me?

Did I take adequate care of the health of my husband and children?

Did I spoil my children? correct them in anger?

Did I give bad example by missing Mass, neglecting the Sacraments?

Is my home clean? are my children neatly clad?

Did I waste money, or get into needless debt, or contract excessive hire-purchase debts?

Did I make my home a difficult place to live in by complaining or nagging?

FOR YOUNG PEOPLE

Did I disobey my parents?

Did I fail to show love to my parents, both in word and deed? confide in them?

Have 1 made home miserable? failed to pay my board? gone out without informing my parents where I was going? Was I selfish with the T.V.? radio? bathroom?

Is home a better place for my presence or for my absence?

Did I borrow things from home without permission? a car?

For All

Did I make fun of old people?

Did I fulfil reasonable wishes of my Parish Priest and my employers?

Did I respect all lawful authority?

Am I a good citizen? did I vote thoughtfully?

FIFTH COMMANDMENT

Did I KILL OR TRY TO KILL ANOTHER? TRY TO COMMIT SUICIDE?

Did anyone under my charge SUFFER SERIOUSLY THROUGH MY NEGLECT? OR BAD ADVICE? OR

INTERFERENCE?

Did I ATTEMPT, SUGGEST, PARTICIPATE IN ABORTION? IF SO, WAS I AWARE THAT THERE IS AN

EXCOMMUNICATION ATTACHED TO THIS?

Did I DO ANYTHING TO BRING ON A WILFUL MISCARRIAGE?

Did I allow myself to get unreasonably angry, or hurt others in anger, was I stubborn?

Did I look down on others?

Did I wish evil to others, hate them, try to get even with them?

Did I fight or quarrel, or make others fight or quarrel? Did I forgive readily enough?

Did I knowingly give bad example? did I knowingly lead others into any sin?

Did I drink to excess? drive under the influence of drink? Did an accident happen through my fault?

THE SIXTH AND NINTH COMMANDMENTS

Did I DELIBERATELY TAKE PLEASURE IN USING BAD WORDS? TELLING OR LISTENING TO BAD

STORIES? SINGING IMPURE SONGS?

Did I REALLY WANT TO LOOK AT IMPURE THINGS OR PICTURES?

Did I WANT IMPURE THOUGHTS?

Did I TAKE PLEASURE IN TOUCHING MYSELF IMPURELY?

Did I DELIBERATELY COMMIT AN IMPURE ACT BY MYSELF?

Did I KISS PASSIONATELY?

Did I ENCOURAGE OR ALLOW ANOTHER TO TOUCH ME IMPURELY?

Did I FAIL TO STOP THEM FROM DOING SO?

Did I, AS A SINGLE PERSON HAVE INTERCOURSE WITH ANOTHER SINGLE PERSON

(FORNICATION)?

Did I, AS A MARRIED PERSON, HAVE INTERCOURSE WITH AN UNMARRIED PERSON (ADULTERY)? or WITH ANOTHER MARRIED PERSON (DOUBLE ADULTERY)?

Did I USE ANY FORM OF CONTRACEPTION? DID I FAIL TO COMPLETE THE MARRIAGE ACT? Did I DO AN IMPURE ACT WITH ANOTHER PERSON OF MY OWN SEX?

Did I TEACH OTHERS TO COMMIT SINS OF IMPURITY?

Did I go to bad places? bad picture shows? read bad books? associate with bad companions? attend bad dances? bad parties?

Did I go to drive-ins or remain parked in a car, when my conscience told me that I should not? Did I dress immodestly, so as to arouse sinful desire in others by attracting too much attention to my body?

THE SEVENTH AND TENTH COMMANDMENTS

Did I steal, or help others to steal? how much? what was its value?

Did I cheat? accept or offer bribes?

Did I accept, or keep afterwards, or sell goods known to be stolen?

Did I spoil another’s property? did I injure public property?

Did I use another person’s property without their spoken or unspoken consent?

Did I gamble more than I could afford?

Did I fail to return valuable goods when found? or when borrowed?

Did I neglect to do the work I was paid for? or do shoddy work?

Did I NEGLECT TO PAY MY EMPLOYEES A JUST WAGE?

(In some of these cases, restitution will have to be made. The priest will advise you after you have finished confessing.)

Did I really want to steal something from another? Was I envious or jealous?

THE EIGHTH COMMANDMENT

Did I deliberately say spiteful or petty things about another in his absence? (backbiting).

Did I tell lies?

Did the lies injure others? seriously? (Calumny).

Did I talk about the sins of another without necessity? (Detraction.)

Did I gossip?

(If you are a convert, and you are making your first Confession immediately after your reception into the Church, you need go no further in the examination of your conscience. For later Confessions, or for a first Confession made some time after your reception into the Church, you must examine your conscience also on the Commandments of the Church as set out below.)

THE COMMANDMENTS OF THE CHURCH

Did I EAT MEAT ON FRIDAY OR ASH WEDNESDAY REALIZING THAT I OUGHT NOT? If over 21 and under 60 DID I FAST WHEN I WAS BOUND TO DURING LENT AND ON EMBER DAYS? (Ember Days are announced from the pulpit. If you were not aware of them, you did not sin.) Did I FAIL TO GO TO CONFESSION AT LEAST ONCE A YEAR WHEN IN MORTAL SIN? Did I MAKE A BAD CONFESSION BY DELIBERATELY

CONCEALING A MORTAL SIN FROM THE PRIEST?

IF SO, HAVE I BEEN TO CONFESSION AND HOLY

COMMUNION SINCE? HOW MANY TIMES?

Did I FAIL TO RECEIVE HOLY COMMUNION EACH YEAR ABOUT THE TIME OF EASTER? (i.e. from

Ash Wednesday until Trinity Sunday).

Did I RECEIVE HOLY COMMUNION, AWARE THAT I WAS IN THE STATE OF MORTAL SIN? Did I RECEIVE HOLY COMMUNION AWARE THAT I WAS NOT FASTING LONG ENOUGH? (3 hours for solid food and alcoholic liquids; 1 hour for other liquids. No time limit on the use of drinking water.

Medicines for the sick do not break the fast. Time to be calculated from the time of eating to the time of receiving Holy Communion, not to the beginning of the Mass.)

Did I fail to contribute my reasonable share to the support of the Church? Christmas and Easter offerings? Did I send my children to a Catholic school, where possible?

If married, did my MARRIAGE TAKE PLACE IN THE PRESENCE OF A CATHOLIC PRIEST?

Finally ask yourself . . .

Is there any other sin that I have committed?

Is there anything definite that worries me?

Do I want to ask the priest anything?

SORROW

Now that you are aware of your sins, you should be sincerely sorry for them. After all, if you happen to bump into somebody on the footpath in the City, you do not find it hard to turn to that person and to say sincerely, “I’m sorry.”

Now, what is sorrow? Sorrow is a spiritual realization whereby we now regret that we have committed the sins in the past, we detest them now, and we are resolved not to sin again in the future. (Of course from past experience we know that we are likely to sin again but at the moment when we are sorry, we do not want to sin again.)

The convert, the fallen-away Catholic and even the good Catholic must avoid one treacherous pitfall in sorrow. Many people are ashamed of their sins for natural reasons only, such as shame, the danger of being detected, the meanness of, say, a petty lie, etc. These natural motives by themselves are insufficient. We must be sorry for God’s sake, not merely for our own sake. Our sin is an offence against God and His goodness.

With sincerity, then, express your sorrow for your sins, by reading these prayers with your heart.

“Dear Jesus, now that I am conscious of my sins I wish to tell you that I am sorry for them. One mortal sin is enough to keep my soul out of heaven forever; one mortal sin is enough to plunge my soul into hell forever. I am sorry, and I ask forgiveness.

“There is a deeper reason why I am sorry, dear Jesus. I know that you could see all my sins during your sufferings, and my sins actually added to your sufferings. I am sorry for the suffering I have caused you, and I ask forgiveness.”

“O my God, the all powerful, mighty Creator, my wretched sins are an insult to Your Goodness. Be merciful to me, a sinner. Help me to be good and avoid sin in future.”

________________________

Some people find David’s great prayer of sorrow helpful

PSALM 50

Have mercy on me, O God, in Thy goodness.

In the greatness of Thy compassion, wipe out my guilt.

Wash away all my iniquity, and cleanse me from my sins. For my guilt I confess, and my sin is ever before me.

Against Thee only have I sinned, and I have done evil in Thy sight. So is Thy sentence seen just, and vindicated in The condemnation. Indeed in guilt was I born, and in sin my mother did conceive me. See, Thou (lost love a true heart; in my heart’s depths teach me wisdom. Cleanse me with a hyssop that I may be made pure; wash me, and I shall be made whiter than snow. Let me hear sounds of joy and gladness, and the bones Thou hast broken shall rejoice.

Turn away Thy face from my sins, blotting out all stain of guilt.

Create a clean heart for me, O God, and renew within me a steadfast spirit.

Cast me out of Thy sight, and Thy holy spirit take not from me.

Give me back the joy of Thy salvation, and in me sustain a noble spirit.

I will teach the wicked Thy ways, and the sinful shall return to Thee.

0 Lord, open my lips, and my mouth shall tell Thy praise.

For sacrifices do not please Thee; should I offer a holocaust, Thou wouldst not accept.

My sacrifice, O God, is a truly contrite heart; and a contrite and humbled heart Thou will not scorn. Be bountiful to Sion, O God, in Thy kindness, by rebuilding the walls of Jerusalem.

Then with due sacrifices, burnt offerings, and holocausts Thou shalt be pleased; then with bullocks upon Thine altar shall they make oblations.

—

When I say that I am sorry for my sins, I imply that I do not want to commit them again. I firmly resolve therefore, not to commit these same sins in the future. Now work out a plan to avoid the sins, especially the major ones, from this confession onwards.

If you have worked through all this, you can be quite certain that you shall make a good, sincere Confession. It means that there is no need for any sort of anxiety at all, or doubt the worth of your Confession.

AT CONFESSION

In reality, it is relatively simple to do the confessing. The easy formula below is logical. Before entering the confessional, see whether it is a single-sided confessional or a double-sided confessional. If it is a single, you start confessing as soon as you have knelt down; if a double, you wait until the priest has heard the other person. You speak in a low voice.

There are only five parts to confessing:

1. Blessing: making the Sign of the Cross on yourself, you ask, “Bless me, Father, for 1 have sinned.”

2. Time: “This is my first Confession Father. I am a convert,” or “It is a month (week or year, etc.) since my last Confession. . . .

3. SINS: “AND THESE ARE MY SINS.

“I. . . . .. . . . .. . . . .. . . . .. . . . . times.”

“I. . . . .. . . . .. . . . .. . . . .. . . . . times.”

4. Penance: when you have told all your sins, you bring to the notice of the priest this fact by concluding with, “These are all I can remember, Father, and I am very sorry for all the sins of my life.” To help you make up or your sins, the priest gives you a “penance,” for example, five Our Fathers, three Hail Marys.

5. ACT OF CONTRITION: AND, THUS, YOU RENEW YOUR SORROW WITH WORDS LIKE THESE BELOW.

“O my God, I am sorry and beg pardon for all my sins; and detest them above all things, because they deserve dreadful punishments; because they have crucified my loving Saviour, Jesus Christ; and most of all, because they offend Thine Infinite goodness. And I firmly resolve by the help of Thy Grace, never to offend Thee again, and carefully to avoid the occasions of sin. Amen.”

Or if you prefer the short Act of Contrition:

“Oh my God, I am very sorry that I have sinned against you because you are so good, and I will not sin again.” While you are saying this “Act of Contrition,” the priest is saying words in Latin as wonderful as these: “I absolve you from your sins in the Name of the Father, and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost.” And his final prayer for you really puts a new value into your life. “May the passion of Our Lord Jesus Christ, the merits of the Blessed Virgin Mary and of all the saints, and also whatever good you have done or evil you have endured be cause for the remission of your sins, the increase of grace, and the reward of everlasting life.”

When the priest has stopped speaking, you show your appreciation by saying either “thank you, Father,” or “God bless you, Father,” You return then, to the Church.

(It is worth pointing out that some confessionals are rather darkened, and in them it is impossible to read. It is therefore, necessary to know the Act of Contrition off by heart.)

AFTER CONFESSION

Now, of course, is the time for gratitude. It is much easier to express that gratitude if you are looking at some representation of the Crucifixion. Say, “Dear Jesus, I thank You with all the powers of my soul for taking away my sins. I do not wish to offend You again. Mary, you stood by the Cross; you saw what it cost your Son to win forgiveness of my sins. Help me to avoid my sins in the future.”

Say the penance given to you by the priest, remembering that the better you say the penance, the less time you shall spend in purgatory.

Before you leave the Church, recall the mortal sins or the more serious venial sins that you have just confessed, and make this promise to Our Lord: “In love and gratitude towards you, I want to avoid (name the sin), in the future. To keep me from this sin again I will (mention the step you are taking).”

You may now leave the Church, because you cannot but have made a good sincere Confession.

FREQUENT CONFESSION

How often should I return to Confession?

If you have followed the outline given in this pamphlet, you will realize from your own personal experience, that

Confession is not difficult. The next question that naturally presents itself to you is, “how often should I return?” Your strict obligation is to confess your sins once a year about Easter time if you have any mortal sins. However, if a Catholic kept only to this minimum, he would not be able to claim that he was a devout Catholic. A far better practice is a monthly Confession. The late Holy Father, Pius XII, summing up the feelings of many Popes, was most enthusiastic about it. “We wish the pious practice of frequent Confession to be earnestly advocated. Not without the inspiration of the Holy Spirit was this practice introduced into the Church. The advantages of this are numerous: we get to know ourselves better; our humility grows; we will eliminate our bad habits; (without doubt), our love for God increases; we become stronger characters, and our peace of mind develops.

We therefore are restored to the state of grace. Grace is the quality in our souls which enables us to do actions that make us holy, children of God, and thus merit an eternal reward. Even if a person has no mortal sins to confess he receives on the occasion of his Confession an increase of grace in his soul and consequently his soul is more pleasing to God with every Confession.

EXAMINATION OF CONSCIENCE FOR THE PRACTISING CATHOLIC

If you have adopted this practice of frequent Confession, you do not have to make an exhaustive examination of conscience as has already been indicated above. You may ask yourself these simple questions:

Did I sin with my . . . mind (thinking or desiring)? eyes (seeing or reading) ears (hearing)? mouth (saying, eating or drinking)? hands (doing or neglecting)? feet (going or not going)? body (impurity)?

Better still, and much more of a positive approach for the practical Catholic is a form of examination of conscience, based on the fact that the whole of good Christian conduct revolves around the great twofold Commandment of Charity, namely “Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with thy whole heart and mind . . . and thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself.”

Did I fail in love of God? Mass? Prayers? Duties at home and at work? Did I fail in love of my neighbour? husband or wife? children? others associated with me at work or elsewhere? impatience? impurity in speech or deed? injustice? lies? uncharitable thoughts or speech? jealousy? If you have committed no serious sin since your last Confession, say, “Father, I have nothing serious to confess since my last Confession. I renew my sorrow for all the sins of my life especially for . . . (name some serious sin already confessed).”

Perhaps Psalm 129 would help you to be sorry for your sins, not for any natural motive but for God’s sake.

PSALM 129

Out of the depths, O Lord, I cry to Thee; O Lord, hear my calling.

Let Thine ears give heed to me, to the sound of my pleading.

If Thou, O Lord, were to note our sinfulness,

O Lord, who could endure it?

But forgiveness is Thine, that with love men serve Thee,

I trust in the Lord God; in His word does my soul trust.

My soul waits for the Lord, more than watchmen wait for sunrise, let Israel wait for the Lord. For the Lord is kindness and abundant redemption.

He will redeem Israel, from all their sinfulness.

SOME RECURRING DIFFICULTIES ABOUT CONFESSION

Most people who use Confession come to the big question, “Am I really and genuinely sorry for my sins? Sometimes I do not feel sorrow.” The kind of sorrow that is needed is such that at the moment of my Confession I can say to myself, “Whatever of the future, at this moment, I do not wish to commit the sins again.” The words of the Act of Contrition, “I will not sin again” certainly do not mean “I shall not sin again”- not even the saint could affirm this, but rather “I will not sin again” simply says, “it is my firm intention not to sin again.”

THE MOTIVES FOR SORROW

The motive of sorrow must have the characteristic of being supernatural, that is, connected with God. For instance, “Oh my God I am sorry for my sins because each of them is an insult to your Divine Majesty; they are offensive to your Justice; they show my ingratitude to your Infinite Goodness; they are an ungracious rebellion against your authority; they are an offence to my Creator; they caused the Passion and

Death of Jesus; they deserve your punishments.” In practice we find that one or all of these motives appeals to us, and when our souls have been stirred by their force, we can easily make our purpose of amendment, “O my God, I will do my best not to offend You again.”

But to show sincerity requires this approach. Take the sin that you have committed most often since your last Confession and ask yourself-how many times did I fall into this sin? Say, perhaps six times. If you have only four lapses into this sin at your next Confession, you have improved. Some penitents have a pessimistic outlook on the prospect of their falling into mortal sin and this outlook causes great harm to their souls. They think that once they have sinned mortally, it does not really matter how often they commit the sin again. “I have lost grace and further sins will not worsen my position.” These people do not know enough about the formation of habits. A habit is formed by repeating an act. With the repetition of the sinful act, grace is certainly not lost again, but the habit becomes so strengthened by the acts that it makes it so much easier to sin again, and lose grace in the future. The more often we repeat the sinful act, the longer it will plague us.

A GREAT SUPPORT

It is a wonderful help to know that no sin is so great as to defy eradication. All sins, and even habits, can be removed. And when it appears that a sin is persisting even after repeated attack is made directly on it, it is good to try an indirect onslaught. By that method, a penitent tries to build up his strength of character by performing one serious act of self-denial for each time he falls into the sin. The particular act of self-denial must be costly enough to be felt, such as forgoing a drink at the hotel, television for the evening.

Many Catholics find that there are times when they want to ask a priest a question that has been disturbing them. For example, someone asks a poser about the Faith at work, and the Catholic is not sure of the answer. Or there is some problem that is causing anxiety to the penitent. If then, there is something that you want to ask the priest, at the end of your Confession, frame your question briefly like this, “Father, I would like to hear the reason for Catholics being against cremation.” If, however, the question is involved, your natural courtesy will prevent you from asking then, and you will have to see the priest when there are not so many waiting on his ministrations.

A FINAL THOUGHT

It is good to reflect that Our Lord knew the evils and ills that would disturb the twentieth century; he knew all the advances that would be made in the psychiatric field. Yet to forgive sin, to heal the breach between mortals and their Creator, he instituted Confession of sin. And while with deep admiration of the value of modern knowledge as expounded so well and practised so painstakingly by doctors and psychologists, we cannot afford to overlook Our Lord’s own remedy, Confession.

Nihil Obstat:

BERNARD O’CONNOR, Diocesan Censor.

Imprimatur:

@ DANIEL MANNIX,

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis. 14 December, 1962.

An Agnostic In An Irish Village

BY TADHG GAVIN

INDEX

CHAPTER 1: THE ASSIGNMENT

To say that the assignment came as a surprise to Tom Henderson would be putting it mildly. It would be nearer the truth to say that it was a veritable bolt from the blue. But, like so many others in the world of journalism, he was well aware that in nine cases out of every ten it is the unexpected that happens, and, just as soon as the initial shock was over, he took it all as a matter of course.

When the editor called him into his office on the morning of that dank December day, the young man was under the impression that it was the French murder trial that he wished him to cover. The prospect appealed to him. For one thing, it offered far greater variety than a job in London ever could ; and more important still was the fact that it would enable him to get away from the English climate which, unpleasant enough at most times, was yet more uncongenial in the depth of winter.

But Mr. Smith’s first words left the reporter in no doubt that a trip to France was off, as far as he was concerned. “How would you like to go to Ireland, Henderson?” the editor began without the slightest warning or preamble. “Ireland?” echoed Tom dully. “ I’ve never been there in my life,” he added slowly, as if realising that a comment of some sort was expected of him.

“All the same, you are of Irish extraction, I believe?”

The young man nodded. How Mr. Smith had got hold of the fact he didn’t know. Anyway, the fact remained. His grandfather had been born in Belfast, and had come to England at an early age.

“That’s why I’ve decided to offer you this particular assignment,” Mr. Smith explained. “I feel that one with an

Irish background could handle it better than a mere outsider.”

“You mean you want me to cover some Irish crisis?” Tom queried.

The editor began to play with a paper-knife which lay on his desk. It was a favourite trick of his when dealing with a rather ticklish situation.

“Not a crisis really,” he explained. “I simply want you to write a series of articles on the Irish way of life-only I want you to present the facts from a particular angle-an angle that will appeal to those who believe that Ireland is unprogressive and obscurantist and who are convinced that Catholicism is one of the main reasons why it is so far behind the times.”

Tom chuckled quietly, in spite of himself.

“And what if the facts rule out that angle altogether?” he put in suddenly.

“The facts don’t really matter,” came the editor’s swift reply. “As long as what you write serves to boost the circul—ation of my paper, that is all that counts. You must know by now that what many people want to read is merely an expression of their own personal views. If they think that Ireland is obscurantist and unprogressive, then they will be only too anxious to buy the paper in which those opinions are published. All you have to do is to give the ring of authenticity to what you write. Visit some district in the back-of-beyond; describe the people who live there as victims of ignorance and superstition; add some snatches of conversation taken completely out of their context; and you will have done all that is expected of you. Understand?”

“I think so,” Tom said thoughtfully. “All the same, I can’t help feeling that it’s not quite the right approach.” “Is it your Irish extraction that’s worrying you?” Mr. Smith demanded.

“It’s not that,” Tom assured him. “Your religion, then?”

“It’s not that either. Neither my grandfather nor my father was a Catholic. I was brought up a Methodist ; but I’ve shed all my religious beliefs long ago. Right now you might describe me as a dyed-in-thewool agnostic.” “Then I can’t see where the difficulty comes in.”

Tom was not sure himself.

“I just think that the series of articles you have in mind is a bit threadbare,” he stated simply. At that Mr. Smith stared him full in the face.

“You mean-you’re turning down the assignment?” he queried.

Tom was quick to note a challenge when he saw one.

“I didn’t say that,” he answered.

“I’m glad for your own sake that you didn’t,” the editor broke in. “A good reporter is sensible enough to agree to go wherever he is sent. If you were to turn down my offer, I could always find another man who would only be too glad to step into the breach; whereas, if you do go and make a success of the job, I can guarantee you an increase of salary and the prospect of a further assignment that will prove more to your liking than the present one.” Tom took his cue and resolved to make the most of it.

“Of course, I’ll go to Ireland, if that’s what you want,” he agreed.

Immediately the challenge faded from the editor’s eyes and once more he became calm and relaxed. “Then that settles it,” came his approving comment. “Let me see! Today is Friday. You can take the morning plane and get to your destination well before the weekend.”

“Had you any particular part of Ireland in view?” Tom enquired.

Mr. Smith shook his head.

“The district doesn’t really matter, provided that the news you send along sounds sufficiently convincing. Galway should be a good place. It’s far enough away from London to conjure up a regular hinterland, and they tell me that remnants of the older way of life may still be found there.”

Tom Henderson felt inclined to sigh. To think that he who was so fond of excitement and adventure would have to spend a couple of weeks in the wilds of Ireland and that the chances of a visit to Paris were even more remote than ever!

But then, like a burst of sudden sunshine, the memory of the editor’s guarantee came back to him. At the thought of

Mr. Smith’s promise Tom’s good spirits returned, and by the time he got back to his desk he was humming the latest pop-tune.

CHAPTER 2: CHANCE ENCOUNTER

The train pulled out from Westland Row to the accompaniment ofa series of “Cheerios” and “Good-byes.” Tom Henderson glanced at his watch. One of the porters had told him that the journey would take over four hours, and he began to calculate the time when he would arrive in Galway city.

There was only one other passenger in the compartment besides himself-a tall, broad-shouldered youth with deepblue eyes and a shock of fair, wavy hair. There was a newspaper in his lap, but he wasn’t reading it. All his attention was focussed on a letter which he was holding in his hands.

It was only after they had passed Mullingar that Tom decided to break the silence that lay between them. “Excuse me,” he began, “ but you don’t happen to be going to Galway, by any chance?”

“I do,” the other informed him. “As a matter of fact, that’s where my home is.”

“Oh!” put in Tom non-committally. He was glad to have come across one who would put him wise as to the best place for spending the next couple of weeks. “You live in the city itself, I suppose?”

The youth shook his head.

“No. Actually I live a good twenty miles from there. Currabeg is the name of the village where I was born and bred. I don’t suppose that the name means a thing to you. You wouldn’t find it on any map, and not one of the guide—books that I’ve seen even bother to mention it. In the summer it’s really beautiful, though, and it does attract a fair share of tourists; but at this time of the year it’s as quiet as could be. You’d be a tourist yourself, judging by your accent?”

Tom’s lips framed a faint smile.

“In a way, you could call me that,” he said glibly. “This is my first visit to Ireland, and I want to see for myself what the country is really like.”

“You’ve chosen a bad time of the year to come on a visit,” the youth remarked.

“I daresay I have,” Tom agreed, “but people are always the same, and it’s people more than scenic loveliness that really interest me.”

“You’ll be staying in Galway city, then?” the youth suggested.

Tom looked through the window at the swiftly-changing landscape before making a reply.

“I think that a quiet country district would suit me better,” he at length returned. “That is, if I could only hit on the right spot. Come to think of it, Currabeg-or whatever you call it would probably prove as good as the next for my purpose.”

“I don’t think you’d like Currabeg at this time of the year,” the youth maintained. “If you’re used to bustle and activity, you’d find yourself completely out of your depth there.”

“As I said before, it’s a quiet place I’m looking for,” Tom reminded him. “The only snag is accommodation. Have you got any hotel out there?”

The youth laughed outright at that.

“I’m afraid you can’t even imagine what Currabeg must be like if you’re expecting it to run to a hotel,” he explained, just as soon as his laughter had subsided.

“A guest-house, then?”

“No, there’s no guest-house there either.” Tom shrugged his shoulders.

“Then that rules Currabeg out,” he muttered grimly, and it was the look of disappointment that flashed into his eyes that made the other wish that he could help him.

“If you’re really so dead-keen on going to Currabeg, my mother might be able to put you up,” he suggested suddenly.

“We have a fair-sized twostorey house, and we do keep a few tourists in the holiday season.”

Tom’s eyes became instantly brighter.

“But that would mean putting your mother out no end?” he remarked,

“I don’t think so,” the youth replied. “We’ve no stereotyped conventions or hide-bound formalities in our household. We’re as free-andeasy as you could find in your day’s travels. I’m at a boarding-school in Dublin, and right now I’m going home for the Christmas holidays. Terry McGrath, one of my classmates, was to have spent the vacation with me; but he fell ill a week ago and had to go to hospital. Only this morning I had a letter from him, telling me that he doesn’t expect to be discharged before the new year. His room is already prepared, and I can’t see why you shouldn’t make use of it-that is,” he added warningly, “if you are prepared to make do with an ordinary country house.”

“I sure am,” Tom grinned. “I only hope that your mother won’t turn me away when we arrive.”

“You don’t know Irish hospitality, if you even think that she’d dream of doing any such thing,” the other briskly intimated.

Tom winced at that. In his heart he felt ashamed of himself to be taking advantage of all this kindness and consideration when, at the end of it all, he would repay such hospitality with a series of scurrilous articles.

However, he brushed his self-recriminations aside with the reflection that he had a living to make and an assignment to cover. This was neither the time nor the place to be maudlin or sentimental. He had been sent to Ireland to do a job of work; and the sooner that job was completed, the happier he would feel.

“Since we’re going to see so much of each other for the next couple of weeks, we’d better get introduced straight- away,” he put in quickly. “My name’s Henderson-Tom Henderson.”

“And mine,” said the youth, “ is Ciaran O’Mara.”

There and then they shook hands; and, immediately afterwards, the conversation drifted into other channels. They discussed literature and art, football and politics, and by the time the train drew up at Galway station they seemed to have known each other for quite a long time.

CHAPTER 3 : LIFE IN AN IRISH VILLAGE

Tom Henderson stood on the brow of a hill and let his eyes wander at will over the scenes of rugged grandeur that spread themselves out before him. Above him was a grey and leaden sky, and the winds that swept across the neighbouring moorlands were almost as keen as a razor’s edge. But the young man was utterly oblivious of the inclemency of the weather. His mind was busy reviewing the events that had taken place since his arrival in Currabeg.

It was only four days ago that he had first set foot in the village, and already he felt more at home in his new surroundings than he had ever felt in London.

Mrs. O’Mara had, of course, been surprised when Ciaran brought him along ; but she was not the sort of woman to dream of spoiling his hopes, and, though she reiterated her son’s opinion that Currabeg was not the ideal place to spend a winter holiday, she nevertheless extended to him a hearty “Cead mile failte” and assured him that she would do everything in her power to make his stay comfortable.

Mrs. O’Mara was one of those people who would much sooner think of another’s comfort than her own. She couldn’t be too well-off, Tom surmised. Her husband was only a farmer, and the holding which he tilled consisted for the most part of land that had been reclaimed from the barren hillsides. Yet she never complained or made a poor mouth. Indeed, she didn’t even mention money at all, and it was Tom himself who had insisted on paying for his keep in advance.

“You’re not like many another landlady I’ve met,” he declared, as he made the payment. “The vast majority that I have come across were solely concerned with £ s. d.”

Mrs. O’Mara had laughed at that.

“Poor creatures!” she exclaimed. “Sure the likes of them are more to be pitied than blamed. A fat lot of good all the money in the world will be to us when the time comes for us to die!”

“All the same, you must admit that money is important,” Tom reminded her.

“Ah, but there are things in life that are a thousand times more important,” Mrs. O’Mara assured him.

“Such as?” the reporter remarked interrogatively.

“The happiness which comes from living the sort of life that God wants us to live,” came her immediate reply.

During the four days that followed, Tom Henderson discovered that the O’Mara family had indeed found that happiness. All day long Mr. O’Mara worked on his holding of land. All day long Mrs. O’Mara was busy with her household tasks. All day long Ciaran was lending a hand to either his father or his mother. No cross word ever passed between them.

No breath of argument ever rippled the smooth surface of their daily lives.

They lived each moment of their lives in the company of God and God’s Blessed Mother. They regarded each blessing and each bliss as gifts from the hands of an All-Loving God. They regarded each trial and suffering as golden links that would bind them yet more closely to their Maker and Redeemer. That was the reason why they never grumbled. That was the reason why their days were fraught with joy and their nights suffused with peace.

“God knows best,” Mrs. O’Mara would say when things failed to work out exactly as she had planned, and her eyes would stray in the direction of the white-draped altar of the Sacred Heart that stood in a corner of her kitchen, illumined by the ruby glow of a little lamp. “The help of God is nearer than the door” and “God is strong and His Mother good” were some more of her favourite sayings.

It must have cost Mr. and Mrs.O’Mara a heavy sacrifice to send Ciaran away to a boarding-school ; but it was a sacrifice which they were only too willing to undergo in order that their only son might reap the benefits of a more liberal education than they themselves had received. What the boy would eventually turn his hand to Tom did not know; but he was convinced that he could easily gain a scholarship and go on to the university, for he had a quick and active brain and his knowledge of literature and science was far superior to that of the average English schoolboy.

With the rest of the villagers the reporter had also struck up a swift acquaintanceship. The O’Mara homestead was the local visiting house; and, when the day’s work was over, about a score of people would gather in the spacious kitchen and while away the hours with many a tale and jest.

They were a likeable crowd, and no mistake about it. The older folk were just as blithe and good-humoured as the young, and from the very first evening they had insisted that Tom should share in their mirth and laughter.

Of course, they pulled his leg at times. That indeed was only to be expected. They expressed their regret that he was a Sasanach and they teasingly reminded him that he had quite a lot to feel ashamed of. But they said it in such a jovial way that he couldn’t help enjoying it all, and he knew that in their hearts they liked him and would be only too willing to come to his aid if ever he were in trouble.

“If you stay in Currabeg long enough, we’ll manage to make a proper Irishman out of you,” Carty Dillon had predicted on the previous evening.

Tom was thinking of those words now. Strange how things worked out, he opined. Less than a week before, he had dreaded the idea of an Irish assignment and already the charm of Ireland had woven itself about the tendrils of his heart. Truly it is the unexpected that happens, he reflected as he left the brow of the hill and slowly moved off in the direction of the main road.

He had not gone more than ten yards, however, when he heard someone hailing him. A fraction of a minute later he caught sight of Ciaran emerging from the nearby grove with an orange-coloured envelope in his hand.

“A telegram, Mr. Henderson!” shouted the youth breathlessly. “I hope it isn’t bad news. It arrived about half-anhour after you left; and, since Colum O’Dwyer said that he saw you coming this way, I decided to bring it along-just in case it might be urgent.”

Hastily Tom broke the seal; but, before he scanned the actual words, he knew beyond a shadow of doubt the purport of the message.

“First article overdue. Deadline in sight. Smith.”

It was extremely terse, but it told Tom all that he wished to know.

As one in a daze, he refolded the missive and thrust both itself and the envelope into his pocket. Ciaran looked at him anxiously as he did so.

“It is bad news, then Mr. Henderson?” he quietly interposed.

Tom Henderson shook his head.,

“No, Ciaran,” he replied; “it’s simply a message that I was expecting-nothing more.”

And putting the matter out of his mind for the time being, he forced a faint smile and continued to make his way down the side of the hill.

CHAPTER 4: FRESH SURPRISE

It was not until he was out on the main road that Tom Henderson decided to put the question that for the past four days had lingered in his mind.

“What do you intend to do when you grow up, Ciaran?” was how he framed it.

“Haven’t you already guessed?” Ciaran parried. Tom shook his head.

“There are so many things that you could go in for,” he explained. “Science or medicine or engineering or teaching. Life is full of possibilities for boys like yourself who have plenty of brains and the desire to get on.”

“I’m going to be a priest.”

“What?” If a bombshell had there and then been thrown at his feet, Tom could hardly have been more astounded. “You can’t really mean it?” he demanded incredulously.

“Does the idea so surprise you?” Ciaran queried.

“Of course, it does,” the reporter blurted out. “Why, here you are with tons of chances at your disposal, and then you turn about and form the sudden decision to become a priest!”

“But it isn’t a sudden decision,” Ciaran informed him. “Ever since I can remember, I have wanted to dedicate my life to God.”

“And do your parents know about all this?”

The youth nodded.

“And they went to all the trouble and expense of sending you to a Dublin boarding-school so that you might eventually be ready to enter a seminary?”

“They did, indeed,” Ciaran assured him.

“But you are their only child. Surely they didn’t relish the idea of losing you like this?”

“I’m afraid you’ve got it all wrong,” Ciaran corrected him.

“My parents are not really losing me at all. They are wise enough to appreciate the fact that it was God who gave me to them in the first place, and they therefore account it a privilege that that self-same God has accorded me such a sublime vocation.”

“But I simply can’t understand it,” Tom declared with a wry grimace.

“What can’t you understand, Mr. Henderson?” Ciaran enquired.

“Why you should be so set on becoming a priest,” the reporter explained. “It seems all so futile-so worthless-so diametrically opposed to all that really matters.”

“You can’t be a very good Christian if you really believe what you have just said,” the youth sighed.

“I’m not a very good Christian,” Tom admitted. “As a matter of fact, I’m not even a nominal one. If I’m anything at all, I’m a realist, and I’ve no patience with those who spend their whole lives chasing after illusions.”

“You’re not a realist,” Ciaran maintained. “How can you even dream of calling yourself a realist when you shut your eyes to the Greatest Reality of all?”

“And what is the Greatest Reality that you have in mind?” the reporter queried.

“God,” returned the youth. “Without God life would have no sense and no meaning. As a matter of fact, without God there would be no life at all.”

“The scientists wouldn’t agree with you there,” Tom endeavoured to point out.

“The pseudo-scientists might not,” Ciaran conceded, “but it is a well-known fact that all the really great scientists that this world has produced were Christians. That was true in the past, and it is also true at the present day. Such scientists are far too wise to accept theories that can’t be proved or to enunciate concepts that have no solid foundation. If there is no God, then how did the universe come into existence in the first place? How did life begin if an Omniscient and Omnipotent Creator did not put it there? Can you answer me that?”

Tom shook his head confusedly.

“I can’t answer you that,” he admitted frankly.

“No, and neither can all the scientists that this world has ever known,” Ciaran went on. “You see, it is utterly impossible for any reasonable man who uses the intelligence that God has given him to doubt the existence of a Supreme Being. That is what amazes me about you. You appear such a fair-minded person-quite honest and aboveboard in lots of ways-and yet you can venture to heap scorn on beliefs which have far more to commend them than the doubts which cranks and crackpots have so foolishly devised.”

Tom turned his head away to hide the sudden blush that mantled his cheeks. Honest and above-board, indeed! In his heart he knew he was anything but that. He had wormed his way into the O’Mara homestead under false pretences. He had ingratiated himself with the rest of the villagers by the self-same devious means. But, though he might deceive others, he could not deceive himself; and, as in a mirror, he saw himself as he really was-a bluffer who tried to come out best in each and every argument-a fraud who constantly endeavoured to put God and the things of the spirit into the dim background of forgotten things.

“I’m sorry, Ciaran,” he whispered abjectly. “I had no right to say all those things. Please try to forget that I ever said them. Try to understand that religion has never played an important part in my life. The fact is I have barely given a moment’s real thought to what you, on the other hand, have considered so deeply and so well. It just seems to me . . .”

“I know,” Ciaran interposed. “That’s the big trouble with the world today. People think that it’s only what they can see that’s important. They mistake shadows for substances. Thank God we Irish are more sensible than that. We know what is important and what is not. That’s the reason we are not afraid of life, and that’s also the reason why we are not scared of death.”

“You are certainly not afraid of life,” Tom agreed. “During the short time that I’ve been in Ireland, I have come to appreciate that. But I can’t for the life of me believe that there’s a person in the world today who would not be afraid to die.”

“Would you like to see someone who has only a couple of days to live ?” Ciaran suddenly suggested.

“Right here in Currabeg?”

Ciaran nodded.

“But nobody told me that anyone in the village was dying?”

“They probably thought that you wouldn’t be interested, Ciaran observed. “It’s Mrs. Burke-Granny Burke as we have come to call her-her house is only a few hundred yards ahead of us. She’s eighty-six years old, and the doctor has emphatically statedthat she won’t live to see another year.”

“But she herself doesn’t know that, I take it?” Tom remarked.

“Of course, she knows it,” Ciaran replied. “The doctor knew that she’d much rather have the truth, and he saw no point in hiding the fact.”

“But wasn’t he afraid that the news would hasten her death?”

Ciaran didn’t reply to the question.

“I think we had better go and see Granny Burke herself,” he put in. “That will help you to find out the answer for yourself.”

It was a weather-beaten and time-furrowed woman who smiled up at her visitors from her death-bed.

“They told me that a young gentleman from London was in the village,” she said, as soon as the introduction was over. “It was good of Ciaran to bring you along to see me. As you know, I haven’t much longer to live.”

Tom cleared his throat in an effort to find the right words in which to pose his question.

“How can you manage to face death so calmly, Mrs. Burke?” he enquired.

The old woman’s smile grew wider at that.

“Is there any reason why I should be upset?” she asked. “I’ve tried to be a good Catholic all the days of my life. I’ve never purposely injured another human being. And, now that death is on the way, I’ve made a General Confession and I shall leave this world fortified by the Last Rites of the Church.”

“But doesn’t the thought of the unknown worry you at all? If I were in your shoes, I would feel as if I were taking a leap in the dark.”

“The unknown?” Granny Burke echoed. “Ah, now I pity you if you really look upon eternity as the unknown! Sure death is only the gate which will lead me to God and to the many other friends who have been called before me. To my way of thinking, I’ll merely be exchanging the shadows for the sunshine and the hardships of this world for the joys that will have no end.”

Tom Henderson swiftly opened his mouth; then just as swiftly he closed it again. There were so many things which he felt inclined to say ; but each and every word that he might utter was drab and inadequate at a time like this.

He had seen strong men grow pale at the very thought of death. He had known self-styled atheists who had burst out into a paroxysm of weeping when told that their days were numbered. Yet here was a frail old woman who could look serenely back on the life which she had lived and could just as serenely look forward to the death which was fast approaching a frail, old woman who even on a bed of pain could find solace in the knowledge that God was close beside her and would safely guide her to the unfading beauty of the Eternal Hills.

CHAPTER 5 : MAUREEN O’BYRNE

Great though Tom Henderson’s amazement must have been when he visited Mrs. Burke, it was greater still when he came face to face with Maureen O’Byrne. The meeting happened in the simplest way imaginable, and he could never really say whether it came about by chance or whether it had been previously arranged by either the child or her mother.

It was only a few minutes after leaving Mrs. Burke’s cottage, as both he and Ciaran were making their way homewards, that he caught sight of a wheel-chair and in it a little girl with a pair of limpid-blue eyes and a cluster of flaxen curls and the sweetest smile that he had ever seen. There was a middle-aged woman walking behind her; and, as he drew nearer, he recognised the lady as one of the people who regularly visited the O’Mara homestead in the evening.

“Good day, Mr. Henderson,” the woman quietly greeted him as she and the little girl drew alongside. “We’ve met before, of course; but I imagine that you’ve been introduced to so many strangers during the last few days that you don’t remember my name. I’m Margaret O’Byrne, and this is my daughter, Maureen. She’s been simply longing to see you since I told her you arrived.”

“I’m pleased to have this chance of meeting you now, Mr. Henderson,” whispered the little girl as she looked up at him.

Tom took the child’s outstretched hand in his own big palm and pressed it gently.

“I’d have come to see you long before this,” the child explained, “only, as you see, I am not able to walk.”

Pityingly Tom looked down at the little girl. She couldn’t be a day more than twelve, he decided, and he could not help feeling sorry at the thought that one who was so young and beautiful should be deprived of the use of her limbs.

“I had no idea that there was a little girl like you hidden away in Currabeg,” he put in softly. “If I had, I’d certainly have made it my business to go and have a talk with you. Tell me-how long have you been like this?”

“About two years,” Maureen told him.

“And up till then you were just as strong and active as all the other children in the village?”

“Indeed, I was,” came the child’s reply. “Come to think of it, I was probably far more active than I should have been. That was how the accident happened, in the first place.”

“What sort of an accident was it?” It was more than idle curiosity that prompted the reporter to put the question.

“I fell from a rock while I was climbing over there.” As she spoke, Maureen pointed in the direction of a nearby quarry. “When I fell, I pulled down a lot of other rocks after me. So it is really a miracle that I am alive at all.”

For a fraction of a minute Tom was silent.

“You have been to hospital, I suppose?” he put in, after the pause.

Maureen nodded.

“I’ve been to a hospital in Dublin, and the doctors did all that was in their power. But they couldn’t give me back the useof my legs.”

“You would have liked to be cured?” Tom insisted.

“Of course,” Maureen returned. “I wanted to be as strong and active as I always was. I wanted to be able to run and hop and skip and play with the other children.”

“And yet you don’t appear to be at all unhappy right now?” Tom commented.

“No, I’m not unhappy,” Maureen told him. “You see, I asked God and Our Lady to cure me; and, when no cure came, I began to understand that there might be a reason why the use of my legs might have been taken away from me.”

“And what might that reason be?” the reporter wanted to know.

“Well, it’s like this, Mr. Henderson,” the little girl explained. “I might have grown careless about God and the things that really matter if I were always strong and active. I might have found things easier if I were able to go where I wanted to go. I might have enjoyed myself more if I could go to dances when I grew up. And at the height of it all I might have lost my soul. It wouldn’t be much use if I had everything my own way in this world and was miserable in the next-would it now?” the child asked.

Tom made no reply to that. He himself had still another question to ask.

“And you feel no bitterness towards God for having taken away the use of your limbs?”

“Bitterness?” Maureen echoed, as if she were not sure that she had heard aright. “Why in the name of all that’s sensible should I feel bitterness towards One Who has been so wonderfully kind to me? Didn’t Our Lord Himself carry a huge Cross for the love of me and people like meand shouldn’t I in my turn be only too pleased to be allowed to carry even a tiny splinter of that Cross for His sweet sake?”

Tom closed his eyes and drew a hand swiftly across his forehead. For the second time that day he had come face to face with a person who was endowed with the courage of an early Christian martyr. For the second time in the space of an hour he had come across such patience and resignation as was nothing short of heroic.

“People like you, Maureen, are the salt of the earth,” he whispered huskily, and he could not bring himself to say another word at that particular moment.

The little girl laughed outright at that.

“Now I can see that you’re making fun of me,” she declared. “But I can take a joke just as well as the next; and I’ll not hold your legpulling against you if you agree to do me a favour.”

“And what favour had you in mind? Tom enquired.

“They tell me you’re not a Catholic,” the little girl went on. “But for all that I’d like you to come to Mass in the villagechapel on Christmas morning. The nine o’clock Mass, if you could manage it.”

“I’ll go to Mass if that would make you any happier,” Tom agreed. “But why the nine o’clock Mass in particular? I’m not an early riser, especially when I’m out of London.”

“I meant to keep this as a bit of a surprise for you,” the child informed him. “But I suppose I had better tell you here and now. The fact is: I’ll be singing the Adeste at that Mass, and I’d like you to hear me.”

“I’ll try to make it, then,” Tom smiled back at her.

“A promise?” Maureen queried.

“A promise,” the reporter assured her.

And it was good to see the radiant expression that came to rest on the child’s face.

CHAPTER 6: THE LIGHT OF FAITH

At the gate of the village chapel Tom Henderson paused and glanced back at the throngs of people that were hurrying along to early Mass. Some of them he already knew, but there were many more whom he had never seen before that day. He was not surprised at that, however, for Ciaran had already told him that Currabeg church was the only chapel within a radius of five miles and that it served as a place of worship for those who lived in various other villages.

Briefly the reporter took mental stock of the people as they proceeded on their way. They were a mixed bunch, judging by the looks of them. Some were old, others young; some seemed rich, others poor; some were in the bloom of health, while others appeared as if they were far from vigorous. Yet this much, at any rate, they had in common, Tom found himself thinking: they were a hundred per cent Irish and a hundred per cent Catholic, and there was not a person among them who would not be willing to struggle and suffer and die for the glory of God and the honour of the land that bore them.

It was an unpleasant sort of a day. Snow had fallen during the night; rain had followed; and the roads were therefore wet and slushy. But the hurrying throngs paid slant attention to climatic conditions. The thought at the forefront of their minds was the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass in which they were soon to participate; and they considered it a privilege to kneel, like the Shepherds, at the feet of the Christ-Child and to pour into His ear all the love and longing of their faithful hearts.

Ciaran led the way through the porch and down the body of the little church. Meekly Tom followed in the boy’s wake. And when Ciaran knelt down, the reporter followed suit.

The altar was aglow with light and greenery. At one end of the sanctuary was a crib, and in the nearby aisle sat the organist and several girl-choristers. In the passageway Tom caught sight of Maureen O’Byrne seated in her wheel- chair. He continued to look in her direction, but she was apparently oblivious of his presence. Eyes closed, head bowed, she was pouring out her heart in prayer, and the reporter had the feeling that Heaven was close beside her in those hallowed moments.

The Mass began. The choir began to sing. As in a dream, Tom listened to the beautiful strains of the young voices. Maureen’s tones he could not distinguish from those of the other choristers, for they had quite obviously been well trained, and their voices swelled and blended in one harmonious melody.

The reporter had heard beautiful singing before. Many and many a time he had been present at concert-operas where celebrated prima donnas had elicited round after round of thunderous applause. But never in his whole life had he been so strangely moved as he was in that little Irish church. It was the fervour rather than the rendering that made such a deep impression on him. Somehow, he had the feeling that each and every chorister was thinking of God and God alone and was solely interested in greeting the Christ-Child Who was born in a draughty stable for the sake of sin-scarred humanity.

Suddenly the singing ceased. A hush descended on the little church. The moment of consecration was at hand. Reverently the rest of the congregation bowed their heads, and Tom automatically did the same.

It was only when the Sacred Host was uplifted that the reporter again caught sightof the people’s faces; and, as he did so, he held his breath in sheer amazement, for the light that shone in the eyes of those about him was beyond the power of either tongue or pen to describe. It was not merely faith that was mirrored there. It was something akin to actual vision, and their fervent “My Lord and my God” was a greeting that clearly indicated that they knew beyond a shadow of doubt that the Author of Life and Death was really and truly present in their midst.

At that moment the scales fellfrom Tom Henderson’s eyes, and for the first time in his life he saw things in their true perspective, He, too, knew that God was present in that little church. True, he could not see Him with his bodily eyes. Nor could he ever explain in actual words how the knowledge came to him. But he was just as sure as he was kneeling there that a Supreme Being had come down upon the altar and that He was filling the souls of the faithful worshippers-and his own soul, too-with a joy that was not of this world or all its dreams and hopes.

For the first time in his life happiness came to Tom Henderson, and it was a happiness that was so rich and great that his heart seemed too small to contain it. It was as if the old and threadbare pattern which represented his wasted years had suddenly been swept aside and was supplanted by a design of such exquisite workmanship that it could be better imagined than described.

Back in London, the pattern of his daily life had lacked both meaning and purpose. He had got up in the morning, made his way to the office, and covered various assignments. In his spare time he had taken in films and shows and “socials,” and had done his level-best to extract from these a certain measure of enjoyment. It was a barren kind of existence, to say the least about it, but it was the only kind of existence which seemed open to him, and he had therefore accepted it without further questioning.

But now the realisation was clearly and unmistakably borne in upon his consciousness that life did not merely consist in sleeping and waking and eating and working. There was another side to the picture, too-a side that was so grand and glorious that it raised the mind of man above the petty things of time and filled his heart with a sense of gladness that the material world could never give.

Life was a gift that came from the hands of an All-Loving God. It was a gift which, like all other gifts, could be wisely utilised or grossly misspent. But, if one used it as God intended, it could provide a foretaste of Heaven amid the trials and tribulations of a work-a-day world.

The people of Currabeg had grasped that all-important truth. In so doing they were wiser and more far-seeing than those seductive philosophers who prided themselves in their self-sufficiency and their self-reliance. It was because they lived close to God every moment of the day that the inhabitants of this remote Irish village were so happy and contented, and it was because they failed to do so that the hearts of so many others were cauldrons of unhappiness and unrest . . .

The notes of the organ again throbbed and echoed through the little church. The choristers once more began to sing. And, like an angel’s message streaming out across the world, the words of the Adeste rose and fell on the vibrant air.

Slowly and reverently, Tom Henderson bowed his head. He tried to recall some of the prayers which he had learned in childhood, but each one of them refused to come. He could only thank God in the silence of his heart for the light of faith which had so graciously been bestowed upon him and mentally reiterate the prayer which the rest of the congregation had so recently whispered when with loving eyes they had gazed upon the uplifted Host and emitted the hallowed words: “My Lord and my God.”

CHAPTER 7: HOMEWARD-BOUND

“I’m sorry that you must leave us, Mr. Henderson,” Ciaran remarked.

“I’m not exactly glad to be going myself,” the reporter returned.

They were standing by the side of the road, waiting for the bus that would take Tom on the first lap of his journey back to England. It was still quite early in the day; and, if all went well, the traveller should be in London by the following morning.

December still hung over the land. Yet the sun was shining and the winds that swept across the fields and moors carried a breath of tenderness that was most unusual for that time of the year.

“What exactly do you do in London?” Ciaran suddenly enquired. “You never told us, and I often wondered.”

“I’m a newspaperman,” Tom admitted frankly. “As a matter of fact, it was the hope of finding material for a series of articles that brought me to Ireland in the first place.”

Ciaran emitted a sharp whistle.

“Then all I can say is that you must have wasted your time completely in a backwater like Currabeg,” he declared. “Nothing out of the ordinary ever happens here, and the general run of editors are only interested in the sensational and the spectacular.”

Tom Henderson smiled. In a way, of course, the boy was quite correct. His visit to Currabeg spelled the termination of the post which he had once held. He could not carry out the assignment which had been entrusted to his care, and he was well aware of the fact that Mr. Smith was not the sort of man to put up with one who had failed to comply with his wishes.

Nevertheless, nothing could be further from the truth than to suggest that he had completely wasted his time. Short though his stay in Currabeg might be, it had opened his eyes to a peace and a happiness which he had never previously dreamed of and it had guided him to a faith that was more priceless than the brightest gem in a royal crown.

“It may surprise you to know that I regard my visit to Currabeg as one of the most important events in my whole life,” Tom put in quietly. “And to the end of my days I shall treasure the memory of the hours which I spent among you all.”

“You’ll come back to see us again sometime-won’t you, Mr. Henderson?” Ciaran went on.

“I’ll try, Ciaran,” Tom intimated briskly, and he said no more just then; for at that moment the Galway-bound bus rounded a nearby bend, and a minute later the reporter was clambering aboard.

He waved to the boy, and the boy waved back at him. Then the bus moved off again.

Through filmy eyes the reporter cast a final glance at the little village which he was leaving behind. Very calm and tranquil it lay under the glow of the pale December sun. A stream gurgled. A cow lowed. Immediately afterwards, the bus skirted a corner, and the whole place was lost to sight.

Reluctantly Tom Henderson drew his eyes away from the rear of the bus, and, leaning back against his seat, began to stare straight in front of him. And, as he did so, he was thinking hard. A couple of weeks before he would have regarded Currabeg as a regular back-of-beyond and would have been only too pleased to exchange the serenity of its ways for the bustle and activity of much-acclaimed Paris. But he was older now-older and wiser. And, as he reviewed the halcyon days which had just elapsed, that little Irish village stood out in his mind as an oasis in the wilderness, and he knew that, as long as he lived, the splendour of its grace and goodness would be embedded in his heart.

Nihil 0hstat

Joseph P. Newth, C.C.,

Censor Theol. Deput.

Imprimi Potest

@ Ioannes Carolus,

Archiep. Dublinen.,

Hiberniae Primas.

Dublini, die 5° Novembris, anno 1963.

********

An Apostle of Mary

ST. LOUIS MARIE DE MONTFORT BY P. M. FENNESSY

INDEX

Towards the end of the seventeenth-century, a young man named LOUIS MARIE GRIGNON DE LA BACHELERAIE decided to surrender all things for Christ-even his name. So for his family name he substituted MONTFORT, the place of his birth, and he has become famous since his canonization in 1947 as St. Louis Marie de Montfort.

CONTROVERSIAL DOCTRINE

A “sign of contradiction” in his own time, even as the Crucified Master he served, he remains today a centre of controversy both among Christians and non-Christians. And this storm of opposition lashes continually, not so much at his own person, as against his spiritual doctrine of the “True Devotion.” The violence of the tempest has, in fact, completely obscured the valuable witness of his own life, so that even his friends see only a confused outline of the saint they acclaim as “Tutor of the Legion of Mary,” “Apostle of Mary,” and “Missionary of the Blessed Virgin.”

This short biography is an attempt to give at least a glimpse of the remarkable man who was Founder, Missionary, Doctor and Theologian, and the spiritual father of a multitude of Marian disciples. Some acquaintance with the saint and his time is an indispensable preliminary for an understanding of the full significance of his teaching. Perhaps, by way of introduction, the principal objections to de Montfort’s spirituality should be faced at the outset.

PRINCIPAL OBJECTIONS

His book on the “True Devotion” does not almost deify Mary, so that the role of Christ-His position as Mediator-is obscured. The basic ideas of his Marian teaching were centuries old when he combined them into his masterly synthesis. And in the introduction to his Treatise he writes:

“Jesus Christ is the Alpha and the Omega, the beginning and the end, of all things. We labour not, as the Apostle says, except to render every man perfect in Jesus Christ. If then we establish the solid devotion to Our Lady, it is only to establish more perfectly the devotion to Jesus Christ, and to put forward an easy and secure means for finding Jesus Christ.”

The “True Devotion” is familiar enough from innumerable booklets and pamphlets on the subject. However, perhaps it is not fully realized that it represents only a part of de Montfort’s doctrinal structure on “Love of the Eternal Wisdom.” “True Devotion,” though certainly his most important, is not his most comprehensive work. “Love of the Eternal Wisdom” is the key to his spirituality, of which “True Devotion” formed the fourth part.

His principal theme is his teaching on ChristWisdom, which is a development of St. Paul’s doctrine of the humility of the Incarnate Word. De Montfort follows here the guidance of Berulle, and his opinions are typical of the French School of spirituality of the 17th century. Berulle drew from the teaching of St. Paul the practical conclusion that Christians should imitate the servitude of the human nature of Christ by offering themselves totally to the Word, and remaining completely dependent on Him. It is significant that de Montfort has made this idea the corner-stone of his own spirituality and, in his book on “Eternal Wisdom,” he develops it in a way which shows the broad sweep of his thought. Great importance is also given to the Passion of Christ and the need for renunciation, the purpose of which is clear from the concluding words:

“Wisdom is the Cross and the Cross is wisdom.”

FOUR MEANS

But the book is wide in its scope, and proposes four principal means that must be employed to possess and love Christ. A perfect devotion to Mary, Mother of the Incarnate Wisdom, is the fourth means which makes it possible for Christians to offer themselves totally to the Incarnate Word and remain completely dependent on Him. The other means are desire, prayer and mortification. It was de Montfort’s compassion for our weakness in using these means of holiness, andin responding generously to God’s grace, that urged him to take the fourth part of his Treatise and enlarge it into a special study now known as “True Devotion to the Blessed Virgin.”

While “True Devotion” is undoubtedly de Montfort’s most important and in spiring contribution to religious literature, it is not, as is often supposed, a complete expression of his teaching. To regard it as complete in itself is to condemn de Montfort’s spirituality as unbalanced, and to mis-understand both his life and his work. His principal theme is always Christ-Wisdom, and it is on this foundation that he has erected his system of spirituality. Devotion to Our Lady is not an end in itself, but a means, although a most perfect means, of possessing Jesus Christ.

Despite his style and intense spirituality, de Montfort himself is the most modern of saints -almost flamboyant in the zeal of his missionary experiments. One could easily imagine him as an 18th century Bishop Sheen or Father Peyton, making full use of the spectacular and the unconventional, if only it would lead men to Christ. He was one of the greatest of the preachers and missioners of the eighteenth-century Church, and one of the most dynamic opponents of the dangerous heresies of Jansenism and Calvinism. The antidote to this insidious poison-a corruption spreading from within Christianity itself-was not only St. Margaret Mary’s revelations of devotion to the Sacred Heart, but also de Montfort’s teaching on devotion to Mary.

When the spirituality of Louis Marie de Montfort is seen in its true perspective, his life can be appreciated for what it was- the life of “the herald . . . of the reign of God through Mary.”*

Louis was the eldest of the eight children of John Baptist Grignion, and. was born on the last day of January, 1673, in the little town of Montfort-la-Canne. At Confirmation he added the name of Mary, and later substituted Montfort, his birthplace, for his family name.

When he had completed his education at the Jesuit College in Rennes, he went to Paris at the age of twenty to prepare for the priesthood. Lack of means prevented him from gaining admitttance to the Seminary of Saint-Sulpice, and he became a student under Abbé de la Barmondiere. When the Abbé died, he was left in even more destitute circumstances, and joined a community of ecclesiastics who lived a life of Spartan discipline and extreme poverty.

POVERTY, SICKNESS

He and his fellowstudents had “the pleasure of poisoning themselves” (as one of them wryly admitted) with wretched and poorly-cooked food. So primitive were the conditions under which they tried to study, work and pray, that Louis soon became seriously ill. (Not long before he had earned a small stipend by keeping watch over the parish dead, and had spent almost the entire night-three or four times a week-in study, spiritual reading and prayer.)

RECOVERY

In spite of the care that he received on his removal to hospital, his condition became rapidly worse, and there seemed no hope of survival. It was when he appeared to be on the verge of death that he calmly announced his complete recovery! Not long afterwards he began to improve, and was soon able to return to his studies. In the meantime, Providence had provided him with friends, whose generosity enabled him to be admitted to the Seminary of Saint-Sulpice.

Even before his early training was completed he had gained reputation for heroism, love of the Cross and love of Mary, and it was at this time that the Queen of Heaven began to claim him as her own.

“THE TREE OF LIFE”

Someone placed in his hands Boudon’s work on “Slavery to the Blessed Virgin” and im mediately he sensed the important influence it was to be in his spiritual life. He soon began to share his enthusiasm with the other students, and from such a small seed the “Tree of Life”** grew to its present incredible dimensions. As he wrote later:

“If you cultivate (Mary) the Tree of Life, freshly planted in your soul by the Holy Ghost, it will grow so tall that the birds of Heaven will come to dwell in it. It will be a good tree, yielding fruit of honour and grace in due season, namely the sweet and adorable Jesus, who always has been, and always will be, the only fruit of Mary.”

*Address of His Eminence Frederico Cardinal Tedeschini, after unveiling the statue of St. Louis Marie in St. Peter’s, Rome. ** “The Tree of Life its culture and growth,” St. Louis Marie de Montfort.

Louis Marie de Montfort was ordained priest on June 5th, 1700, and spent the entire day in thanksgiving before the Blessed Sacrament. His first Mass was celebrated in the chapel of the Blessed Virgin in the parish church of St. Sulpice. Not long before he had been one of two students chosen to make the annual pilgrimage to a Marian shrine, and at Chartres had placed his future work under the powerful protection of the Queen of Apostles; one of the most significant events of his early life.

As he had had previous experience and unexpected success giving catechetical instruction to the roughest of the Parisian children, he sought apostolic work which would call for strength and sacrifice-the total dedication that he was so eager to give.

HOME MISSIONS

So he applied for the dangerous and demanding Canadian missions, but his superiors refused the request, desiring that he should remain and dedicate himself to the home missions of France. Staying for a short time at Nantes with a priest-friend, who trained men for the home missions, he then continued to Poitiers-a place which, like Francis and Assisi, was destined to be inseparably associated with his name.

In the meantime, however, he had antagonized the Jansenists by his open opposition to their teaching. They held that Christ the Redeemer had shed his blood only for the predestinate, and that the conditions for the reception of the Sacraments (especially Penance and the Eucharist) should be as severe and exacting as possible.

THREAT OF JANSENISM

De Montfort’s unfailing loyalty to Christ and His Church, his deep understanding of the immense love of God in the Incarnation and Redemption, made him a militant apostle of traditional theology against these subtle and dangerous innovations. The spirit of Jansenism had by this time eaten into the very vitals of Christianity, had penetrated monasteries, seminaries and convents, so that the Church ( especially in France) seemed in danger of being undermined from within.

“FRIENDS OF THE CROSS”

As part of his campaign against the teachings of Jansenism, de Montfort later founded an association of “Friends of theCross,” so that Catholics would be encouraged to fight the evils of the time and make reparation to the Sacred Heart. His devotion to the Sacred Heart was inseparable from his devotion to Mary: these were the two powerful influences which were to pour oil into the wounds of a stricken Christianity and restore its vigour.

The formation of this lay association was an example of de Montfort’s instinctive response to the grave spiritual needs of his century. Like a good general, he sensed immediately where the battle-line of the Faith needed strengthening and, without fear or favour, used the most efficient means of meeting an assault. Nor could he be satisfied with anything less than complete victory. It was the Marian lay apostolate in eighteenth century France!

In a letter to the association he wrote:

“Christian perfection consists:

1. in willing to become a saint—“If any man will come after Me”

2. in self denial—“let him deny himself”

3. in suffering—“let him take up his cross”

4. in doing—“let him follow Me”.”

It was a programme he was to follow faithfully throughout his life. Not that he was a plaster saint-he was far too rugged and uncompromising for that-but the challenge of the Cross never found him without a response. It was a manliness and courage purified to white-heat in the fire of the Holy Spirit.

The old-world town of Poitiers, above the valley of the Clain, has been Christian since the Roman occupation of the country and is one of the earliest centres of Christianity in Europe. Its churches, in which saints such as Radegonde are venerated, date back to the seventh century, and it is famous for one of the most ancient burial-grounds. Although the countryside was ravaged by wars and revolutions it was to welcome the Cistercians in the eighteenth century and-in its “second spring”-St. Madeline Sophie and her newly-formed Society of the Sacred Heart.

ARRIVAL AT POITIERS

Even with his extraordinary insight into the future and his prophetic powers, it is unlikely that de Montfort, on his arrival at Poitiers, had any realization of the important part the city was to play in his life, and in the history of the congregations he was destined to found.

Yet his impact on its citizens was dramatic and immediate. Those who assisted at his Mass in the hospital at Poitiers called out to each other: “Here is a saint. Here is the man for us. Let us detain him and try to keep him.” They petitioned the Bishop to appoint him as their chaplain and the appointment was finally confirmed.

HOSPITAL CHAPLAIN

De Montfort’s deep spirituality did not lessen his shrewdness, realism or masterly flair for organization. In this he resembles the great St. Teresa who, after being elevated to the heights of mystical prayer, could conclude an eminently satisfactory business arrangement on behalf of the Reform.

The hospital was in a chaotic state both medically and financially and only a saint would have had the patience and wisdom to overcome the disorders. Typically enough, he gave up his own salary to provide more revenue for the inmates, ate the same food as the poorest of them and gave any money donated to him to the necessities of the patients and the upkeep of their chapel. Not satisfied with this, he even tramped through the city begging assistance on behalf of the sick, so that he soon became a familiar sight-his donkey ambling beside him laden with gifts.

ALL THINGS TO ALL MEN

What spare time he had left was entirely devoted to the needs of the patients, and no task was too menial for him- waiting at table, sweeping rooms, preparing beds, nursing those desperately ill, and ministering to the dying. It seemed as though this extraordinary man never slept and had the power of being everywhere he was wanted at the same time.

OPPOSITION

Unfortunately there is nothing like disinterested dedication to arouse jealousy and resentment, so that de Montfort’s very success gained him enemies. Two of his persecutors-the superior of the institution and a member of its committee of management-did everything possible to obstruct and discredit him. This did not surprise him in the least for, as he dryly admitted in one of his letters: “I entered this poor hospital or rather this Babylon, with a firm resolution of bearing, in company with Jesus Christ my Master, the crosses which I well foresaw would certainly befall me if the work were from God.”

PEACE FOLLOWS

In the midst of the turmoil created by this pair of troublemakers there was a sudden and unexpected calm, for both of them became seriously ill and died within a short time of each other. Such was the impression these strange circumstances created that de Montfort was finally left in peace.

The Chaplain’s work in the meantime had greatly increased but he somehow managed to extend it even further by preaching, catechizing and hearing confessions in many of the outlying parishes of Poitiers. It is difficult to imagine how he accomplished all this with such enthusiasm, yet he added the guidance of ecclesiastical students to his already incredible schedule.

It was at this time that he was obliged to journey to Paris to arrange his sister’s entry into a convent and during his three months” absence the hospital again lapsed into chaos, due to appalling inefficiency and neglect. Yet de Montfort not only remedied the disorder soon after his return, but increased his missionary work in the churches of the city and carried on a large correspondence with those who continually sought his advice.

PERSECUTION FOLLOWS

As a tribute to his amazing success in bringing about the spiritual reformation of the city, he now began to experience the unwelcome attentions of “the prince of this world.” Diabolic phenomena (similar to that which tormented the Cure d”Ars) added trials and terrors by night to the persecution he was already suffering by day. For de Montfort, as a missioner, had rapidly become famous in Poitiers, and the malice of his enemies had received a new stimulus.

THE DAUGHTERS OF WISDOM

In his despair at getting any effective cooperation in the management of the hospital, he founded “the Daughters of Wisdom,” a new congregation of women. Several girls, from amongst the poorest citizens of Poitiers, were chosen as pioneers of the movement, even though some of them were blind, crippled or in uncertain health. De Montfort gathered them together in a room of the hospital which he named “La Sagess” and placed in it a large Cross as their source of inspiration.

The rule of life he gave them was a well-balanced one of prayer and activity. Although he foresaw that he would not live to witness the growth of the congregation, the knowledge that he had at least made a beginning gave him immense consolation. For he realized the important role it was to play in the life of the Church in later centuries, and was proud that the sick, the blind and the crippled had been the privileged ones summoned to the service of the King.

The bitter opposition to his work now became so serious and so dangerous that he felt compelled to resign his position.

A HOME MISSIONARY

Immediately the Bishop accepted his services as a home missionary and sent him to Montbernage, a suburb of Poitiers, notorious for its moral decay. Here de Montfort began in earnest his extraordinary career of apostolic activity. His methods were so modern in their approach that they alarmed and bewildered the more conventional clerics. Sometimes it would be the realistic portrayal, in dramatic form, of the truths of the Faith or the struggle of a soul to find salvation. Or it might be the burning of dangerous literature on a great pyre, surmounted by an effigy of the Devil as a society-woman! (The literature was not gathered by witch-hunts, but was brought voluntarily to the missionary by the repentant townspeople.)

What a scene this would make in the twentieth century -a pile of the latest fashionable obscenities burnt outside the Cathedral with the effigy of a satanic society-woman on top of the pyre! It would immediately gain widespread publicity for the campaign for Christian literature by all the mass media of communication and would be worth a hundred sermons which was exactly the effect intended by de Montfort. But it takes rare courage to make such a gesture in any century.

MODERN MEANS

Louis Marie de Montfort is very much of our time, and would have used radio, TV, mass rallies and pilgrimages with daring, imagination and skill. He was never concerned about what “they” would think-whether powerful or pious-and went to any lengths of flamboyance to drive home his message. Yet the response was not ephemeral or simply emotional; it was solid and lasting, because it was a response to the message of his own crucified life.

The results of his missions were soon evident in the many churches restored, the pilgrimage centres established, the contributions given to the poor, and in the real spiritual renewal brought about in the dioceses he had visited.

OTHER PARISHES FOLLOW

Montbernage was only the first of many parishes, almost on the verge of ruin, which he re-vitalized with the fire of his zeal for the Kingdom of Christ. It was here, also, that he erected the first chapel dedicated to the Blessed Virgin under her new title of “Queen of All Hearts.”

These activities were accompanied by an amazing gift of prophecy, such as his prediction of the recovery of the Governor’s wife when she seemed almost at the point of death.

Crowds flocked to his confessional and thronged to hear him whenever he preached. The situation could only rub salt into the wounds he had already inflicted on the Jansenists. Misrepresenting his work, they complained to the Bishop of Poitiers and de Montfort was peremptorily ordered to discontinue his ministry in the diocese.

PILGRIMAGE TO ROME

Without any attempt to justify himself, he accepted the curt dismissal with serenity. He even seemed glad of the opportunity it gave him of making a pilgrimage to Rome. For a long time he had wanted to obtain permission to volunteer for the missions overseas that he might offer his life for Christ. Martyrdom was never far from his hopes and desires although, in another form, he endured it daily.

Before leaving Poitiers, the scene of so many graces, he wrote a touching letter of farewell to his people, encouraging them to persevere. This message, so confident in the face of overwhelming adversities, was typical of the man:

THROUGH MARY

“It is through Mary,” he wrote “that I look for and shall find Jesus, that I shall crush the serpent’s head, and that I shall overcome my enemies and myself to the greater glory of God.”

On the same day he set out on his pilgrimage in the spirit of the Gospels, with only a Bible, a Crucifix, a Rosary, an image of Mary, and his staff. The few coins he had he gave to the poor, trusting in God for his food and shelter.

It was a penitential pilgrimage of fasting, watching and prayer, and with only one pause along the way-that he might dedicate himself once more to Jesus through Mary at the Shrine of Loretto.

ROME AT LAST

At last the great dome of St. Peter’s came into sight against the pale horizon and, taking off his shoes, de Montfort walked barefoot the two leagues that still separated him from Rome. There, after visiting the churches of the city and its places of pilgrimage, he sought an audience with Pope Clement XI.

On 6th June the request was granted and, for de Montfort, it was a momentous occasion. The Pope listened kindly to his enthusiastic plans for a missionary apostolate, and for the honour of being sent to a mission where he might shed his blood for the Faith. (The tenacious reformer of Poitiers was never a man for half measures!) He added that he would regard the Pope’s decision as the will of God, and that he was ready to work in any part of the world to which he was sent.

MISSION IN FRANCE

The Pope’s reply was swift and unexpected. Stretching out his hands in the direction of France, he said: “.You have in your own country a field worthy of your zeal.” He then explained the anxiety of the Holy See at the encroachments of Jansenism, which he had just explicitly condemned, and asked de Montfort to teach Christian Doctrine to the people, helping them to understand the spirit of Christianity by the renewal of their baptismal promises. Finally, he conferred on him the title of Missionary Apostolic.

Although dumbfounded at the Holy Father’s unexpected de cision, de Montfort now felt certain of his vocation to the home missions. It was a keen disappointment to him that, for the second time, the door had been firmly closed on his own plans for a martyr’s death. Yet he was a man for whom God’s Will was the supreme value, even when it meant the sacrifice of his dearest desires. And if his longings for martyrdom could not be literally fulfilled, his enemies would try to provide him with its equivalent!

Little did they expect that the priest they had succeeded in removing from his diocese, and whose work they had so subtly undermined, would return as the chosen champion of the Holy See against their own teaching.

RETURN TO FRANCE

After a short rest and retreat, and a pilgrimage to some of the French Shrines, de Montfort offered his services to the Bishop of his home diocese. As several priests were just beginning a mission in the town of Dinan, the Bishop sent him to join them. This mission, and one for the soldiers of the garrison, proved to be successful beyond all expectations, and he was asked to preach throughout the neighbouring districts.

At this time a strange incident occurred in de Montfort’s life, which we can understand only by recalling a prophecy made two and a half centuries before his birth.

OUR LADY OF PITY

St. Vincent Ferrer the great missionary of the Middle Ages and the apostle of Brittany, was then preaching at a place called La Cheze, near Loudeac, when he happened to notice a large, ancient, but deserted and roofless chapel, almost in ruins, and overgrown with briars and nettles. He paused in his sermon, and seemed deeply touched by the sight of the abandoned sanctuary, which was known as the Chapel of Our Lady of Pity. Then he began to tell the people what a joy it would be to him if he could restore it to the worship of God and the Honour of the Blessed Virgin.

Suddenly he seemed inspired by a vision of the future, and understood that this very work was destined to be accomplished by another missionary in centuries to come.

PROPHETIC VISION

Looking around him as one filled with the light of the Spirit of God, he said; “This great undertaking is reserved by God for a man whom the Almighty will cause to be born in later times, a man who will come as one unknown; a man who will be greatly contradicted and laughed at; but a man, nevertheless, who will bring this holy enterprise to a happy issue.”

PROPHECY FULFILLED

There could be no truer portrayal of Louis Marie de Montfort who, in 1707, went to La Cheze, preached to the people there, and felt inspired by God to rebuild the ruined chapel of Our Lady of Pity. Although he had no resources for the project nor any hope of assistance, he set to work to raise money for the restoration of the shrine, and his efforts met with extraordinary success. The rapid completion of the sanctuary astonished the people of the district, who flocked in hundreds in procession for the opening ceremony.

A number of other incidents occurred which convinced them that de Montfort had miraculous powers -that he had multiplied bread to feed the poor, and had restored invalids to health. Their enthusiasm was so great, and their demands on the missioner so incessant that, when he left the city, de Montfort felt the need for a quiet retreat where he could renew his strength.

RETURNS TO HIS DIOCESE

So he retired to St. Lazare and, after a period of prayer and silence, took up his missionary work once more in his own diocese. Crowds filled the churches, and no one could keep count of the number of conversions. Sometimes de Montfort’s simple gesture of placing a crucifix before the assembled people, and asking them to venerate it, produced an amazing change even in indifferent and hostile congregations. There are those who would dismiss it as mass hysteria, but the incredible influence of the man on his contemporaries cannot be so lightly explained.

He had no pulpit oratory to win the admiration of the crowds, and always spoke of the fundamentals of the faith in the most straightforward terms. Frequently he simply recited the 15 decades of the Rosary with the people, and then gave them the Crucifix to kiss. Yet the results of his missions were astounding, and the conversions made proved, in most cases, solid and lasting. Again there is a modern touch-he composed some 160 poems, and a number of rousing hymns, using many of them as a simple and effective means of instruction. Even in the years of revolutionary France, these were to keep a flame of Christianity alive in the hearts of the people. His own nuns chanted one of these hymns as they travelled in the tumbrils to the guillotine, so that even, the depraved mob felt strangely moved and clamoured for their release.

DEVOTION TO THE SACRED HEART

He was one of the earliest preachers to recognize the significance of the devotion to the Sacred Heart, and to use its message in the struggle against Jansenism. By this means and by encouraging devotion to the Blessed Sacrament and to Our Lady, he restored a well-balanced Christianity to areas which for years had withered in the clutches of harsh and erroneous doctrines. During every mission, an act of public reparation was made to the Blessed Sacrament, and the success of the mission left in the hands of Mary.

APOSTLE OF MARY

“The love of Mary” said one of his fellow-missioners, “seemed to have been born with him.” And it is as the Apostle of Mary that he is mainly remembered, for we have seen the fruits of his treatise on “The True Devotion” in the miraculous growth of the Legion of Mary. This book, which de Montfort predicted would be “enveloped in the silence of a coffer” was not discovered until 1842, 126 years after his death. The “inspiration it has given to the Marian lay apostolate amply fulfils de Montfort’s prophecy that “in those latter times, God will raise up mighty saints, servants, slaves and children of Mary . . . who shall kindle the fire of divine love everywhere . . . like sharp arrows in the hand of the powerful Mary to pierce her enemies.”*

TRUE DEVOTION

“True Devotion” has always borne the stigma of “Marian exaggeration,” but it is interesting to recall that, when Dr. Pusey pressed this accusation, the champion of de Montfort’s teaching proved to be no less a figure than the learned and saintly Cardinal Newman. Probably St. Louis Marie would not state his teaching today in the same theological terms, but he would insist on the same profound relationship between Mary and each member of the Church.

DIOCESE OF NANTES

De Montfort continued to work fruitfully in his native diocese until harried by the Jansenists and forced to leave. He then offered his services to the great diocese of Nantes, and his missions there met with the same remarkable response. Encouraged by the enthusiasm of the crowds, he decided to erect an immense Calvary which, rising from the vast plain that surrounds Pontchateau, would be visible for miles around. It was to be a centre of pilgrimage, and a perpetual reminder of the promises the people of the district had made to God during the mission.

The project was greeted with joy, and 500 labourers immediately volunteered. Soon the work was completed and proved its worth, not only by continuing to stimulate local devotion, but by drawing crowds from other areas- hundreds of people who found here the inspiration for the reformation of their lives. Once again de Montfort showed that he understood and respected the need men have of finding God through the windows of the senses-through what is tangible, moving and essentially human.

OPPOSITION BY JANSENISTS

A mass pilgrimage was arranged for the opening ceremony, and the hidden power of the Jansenists in clerical circles is indicated by the fact that they managed to get it cancelled the night before. (The feast-day chosen for the event was the Feast of the Holy Cross.)

They then spread the incredible story that the shrine was built as a fortress where de Montfort and his misguided followers could entrench themselves, threatening the law and order of France. Even more incredibly these accusations were believed, and the civil authorities demanded the destruction of the shrine. In spite of protests by the townspeople and their refusal to carry out the order, the work of demolition was brought about by force and, after three months, not a trace remained of the once famous Calvary. However, the townspeople had at least one consolation-they managed to detach the figure of Christ from the Cross before it could he desecrated or destroyed.

De Montfort received this public humiliation with his usual calm. He even foretold that a new Calvary would rise again on the site of the old one. This prediction was finally fulfilled in 1825, when a crowd of 20,000 pilgrims, bearing white standards, surrounded the hill and made a public act of reparation at the restored Calvary.

The missionary again retired to renew his spiritual strength, and made a retreat at the Jesuit house at Nantes. Before

*”True Devotion.” St. Louis de Montfort. leaving the diocese, he personally led a courageous and heroic rescue of flood-bound householders, whose district had been inundated by the waters of the Loire.

THE DIOCESE OF LA ROCHELLE

Towards the end of March, 1711, he agreed to a request to give missions to the diocese of La Rochelle, where his work as a home missioner was destined to reach its most amazing climax. His preaching created such scenes of fervour and enthusiasm that he earned the bitter hatred of some of the Calvinists, who determined to assassinate him. When he arrived at the street they had chosen for the attempt, he felt compelled, without understanding why, to retrace his steps and take a long detour to his destination. “My heart became as cold as ice” he told a companion, “and I could not take a step forward.”

This was not his only escape from death. An attempt was later made to poison him and, although he survived the dose, his system became so weakened that he suffered its effects for the rest of his life.

PASTORAL WORK CONTINUES

These persecutions formed a dark background to the increasing brilliance of his pastoral success. Jansenists, Calvinists, even pirates (who unsuccessfully tried to capture him while en route to a mission at the Isle-Dieu) could only interrupt, but never stop, the mighty tide of graces that seemed to accompany his work everywhere, and particularly at La Rochelle. Here the accounts of cures, miracles and conversions remind one of the days of the early Church. It is an extraordinary record of pastoral activity-one which gives increasing evidence of the sanctity of this untiring and courageous man.

THE DE MONTFORT FATHERS

Realizing that he had little time left on earth, he now began to organize a society of priests to continue his work. The rule of life he drew up was approved and he chose, from the community of St. Esprit, a seminarian who was later destined to be the first member of the Company of Mary to work with him-Pere Vatel. The new society known as the De Montfort Fathers was soon to become one of the most enterprising of the missionary congregations, making foundations in many countries of Europe, Asia and America.

THE DAUGHTERS OF WISDOM AGAIN

De Montfort, with his usual thoroughness and dedication, also completed his plans for the Daughters of Wisdom, and selected as their Superior Mme. Trichet, afterwards known as Sister Marie-Louise of Jesus. As the saint predicted, the nuns were given the administration of the hospital at Poitiers, where the congregation had been founded, and later became equally famous not only in other cities of Europe, but also in missionary countries throughout the world.

A severe illness from which de Montfort suffered in 1713 was treated by the barbarous methods of the time, and his survival of the ordeal seemed almost miraculous. His cheerfulness during these operations, performed without anaesthetics, was only an expression of the spirit of penance which had characterized his whole life. At this time he told a priest friend that “God had favoured him with a very special grace, which was the abiding presence of Jesus and Mary in the depth of his soul.” He did not attempt to explain it theologically, and it is doubtful if he could have done so. It seemed a wholly mystical experience of his union with Jesus, through Mary, which had been the inspiration of his life and apostolate.

He was destined now for a final glorious spring of missionary activity -preaching and praying the rosary in churches, shrines and streets, and even in the midst of a ribald crowd aboard a market boat. He established innumerable Rosary Confraternities, and it was his great love for the rosary which led him to become a Dominican Tertiary.

A LASTING IMPRESSION

In spite of ridicule and opposition, his work grew to immense proportions and had a lasting effect on the French Church. As an example of the fruits of his missions, the Cure of Saint-Lo testified that many of his parishioners still practised the devotions they had learned at these missions 60 years after the saint’s death!

Yet not content with this prodigious activity, he established hospitals and schools, and still had time and energy for the foundation of the Company of Mary, the Daughters of Wisdom, and the Association of the Friends of the Cross.

The once-Calvinist stronghold of La Rochelle was to be the crown of his missionary achievements, and it was there that he was revered as another Saint Paul. He was besieged at all hours, by people from all classes of society, seeking spiritual advice, and many of his visitors claimed to have seen his face transfigured. This occurred publicly as he was preaching in the Dominican church on the glories of Mary on the Feast of the Purification. The phenomena of levitation has also been recorded, although de Montfort took every precaution to avoid discovery. So great were the crowds that flocked to hear him that, during one mission, the pulpit had to be placed in the open air at the foot of a large tree.

HIS DEATH APPROACHES

In January, 1716, he resumed his missionary work in the neighbouring parishes, and it seemed that he was at the peak of his powers, spiritually and physically, but it was at this very time that he foretold his own death, which he said would occur before the end of the year. His last project, and perhaps the one dearest to his heart, was the organization of a mass pilgrimage to the Shrine of Notre Dame des Ardilliers to obtain the blessing of the Queen of Heaven on the new Company of Mary, and its future work. Pere Vatel and Pere Mulot, destined to be the first two priests of the Company, led the pilgrimage. Having followed in their steps to the Shrine, in spite of the ill-health which now became painfully obvious, de Montfort resumed his missionary work at SaintLaurent-sur-Seine. He had left the future of his two congregations in Mary’s hands, and felt his work on earth had at last been completed.

During the month of April, 1716, as the missionaries were preparing for a visitation by the Bishop of La Rochelle, de Montfort suddenly collapsed. Although he was gravely ill, he managed to preach a last sermon on the Compassion of Jesus. Those who heard him (with no realization of the gravity of his condition) remarked that he seemed to be delivering a farewell message to his people.

HIS FINAL MESSAGE

It is significant that his final sermon should have been on this very subject-the Mercy, Compassion and loving kindness of Christ. It was the rock of his teaching against which the bitter fury of his enemies beat in vain, just as that same fury had lashed aimlessly against the rock of Peter.

But his victory could only lead to his crucifixion in the cause of Christ.

It was largely due to the labours of de Montfort, and his fellow-missionaries, that the influence of false doctrines in the French Church was finally overcome. And through the intercession of a Woman “fair as the moon, bright as the sun, terrible as an army set in battle array” the Spirit of Truth renewed and vivified the heart of Christian Europe.

HE RECEIVES THE LAST SACRAMENTS

After his farewell sermons, de Montfort was obliged to admit the seriousness of his illness. He received the Last Sacraments, expressed the wish to die as he had lived-a slave of Jesus and Mary. Even at this moment he was not granted peace or privacy, and the room in which he lay was soon crowded with people, begging his blessing. It is typical of him that he cheerfully obliged, even adding a few words of consolation and trying heroically to join them in a song. The effort was too much and he lapsed into unconsciousness. His last words were the names of Jesus and Mary, an expression of his confidence in their power against the forces of evil, and the joyful announcement that he had “finished his course-it is over now, and I shall never sin again.”

HE DIES, HIS WORK LIVES ON

It was eight o‘clock on the evening of 28 April, 1716, and he was 43 years old. (After his canonization in 1947, this date was chosen as his feast-day.) But this was only the beginning of his work, for it was continued by the Company of Mary and the Daughters of Wisdom and, in spite of persecution, the de Montfort Fathers (as they later became known) gave 430 missions in the 63 years before the French Revolution. The reformation they brought about in France was similar to that achieved in Italy, at the same period, by the Redemptorists. Soon their apostolate was to find a fruitful harvest-field in several continents.

The Daughters of Wisdom are now numbered in thousands, and have foundations throughout the world devoted to charitable activities.

THE LEGION OF MARY

The latest developments of de Montfort’s apostolate have been in our own century-the foundation of the Priests of Mary and the Legion of Mary. The association of the Priests of Mary is dedicated to the preaching and practice of the “True Devotion.” The Legion of Mary is one of the most flourishing organizations of the lay apostolate, and is based on the teachings of the saint adapted and brilliantly applied to the spiritual needs of our century by Frank Duff.

The Confraternity of Mary, Queen of All Hearts, was first established in Canada, and canonically erected in 1913. It is another manifestation of de Montfort’s spiritual influence on the interior life of Christians in our time. Its object is “to establish within us the Reign of Mary as a means of establishing more perfectly the reign of Jesus Christ in our souls.”

Yet perhaps it is in the apostolate of the Legion of Mary that we can best see the genius of de Montfort in action in this century, effecting a reformation as powerful, and inspiring martyrdoms as heroic and as fruitful as in eighteenth century France. Legionaries are surely in the vanguard of those whom the saint foretold would transform Christian society in preparation for the coming of the Kingdom of Christ through His Blessed Mother.

PAPAL COMMENDATION

In spite of criticism of “True Devotion,” it should be remembered that six Popes have recommended it, while Leo XIII renewed the Act of Consecration on his deathbed, and St. Pius X both practised the devotion and granted the Apostolic Benediction to all who would read the treatise.

The number of interior transformations it has encouraged and inspired cannot be calculated, but the Confraternity alone numbers several hundred thousand members throughout the world.

Devotion to Mary is the royal highway to the establishment of Christ’s Kingship for, as de Montfort assures us:

“Our union with Jesus always and necessarily follows our union with Mary, because the spirit of Mary is the spirit of Jesus. When we have once found Mary, and through Mary, Jesus, and through Jesus, God the Father, we have found all good.”*

Perhaps we could re-read his last great prophecy in the light of the spiritual transformation the Marian apostolate has brought about in the present century:

“Through Mary God came into the world the first time. . . . . may we not say that it is through Mary also that He will come the second time, as the whole Church expects Him, to rule everywhere and to judge the living and the dead?”**

As most of us are not theologians, we do not have to construct speculative theological systems about Mary. For if we live the total consecration to Mary, as Montfort did, we have the words of St. Pius X as our light and encouragement:

“Who does not know that there is no more certain and easy way than Mary to unite all with Christ and to attain through Him the perfect adoption of sons, that we may be holy and immaculate in the sight of God?”***

*”How Mary forms Jesus in us,” (“The Secret of Mary.”) **”Fruits of this devotion,” (“The Secret of Mary.”) *** “Ad diem illum.” February 2nd, 1904.

Nihil Obstat:

BERNARD O”CONNOR, Diocesan Censor.

Imprimatur:

@ JUSTIN D. SIMONDS, Archiepiscopus Melburnensis.

An Eternity of Heaven Or Hell

REV. CLEMENT HENRY CROCK

INDEX

“MAN SHALL GO INTO THE HOUSE OF HIS ETERNITY”

-ECCLES. 12, 5.

We have arrived at the stage of life when we must realise that the hour-glass is rapidly running out, that the pendulum of life is coming to a stand still, and that time will soon be no more. With death an eternity without end begins. Every year, on Ash Wednesday, the Church solemnly reminds us of these eternal truths. With the inauguration of the Lenten season, the priest places blessed ashes upon our forehead in the form of a cross, saying:”Memento homo quia pulvis es, et in pulverem reverteris.” “Remember man that thou art dust, and into dust thou shalt return” (Gen. 3, 19). The ashes are intended to remind us of our own mortality when our bodies will return to dust whence they came. The cross upon our foreheads reminds us of our immortality; that while the body dies, the soul does not die; that through the Cross of Christ our redemption was purchased. In the words of the poet, Longfellow, the Church wishes to remind us that “Life is real! Life is earnest! And the grave is not its goal; Dust thou art,to dust returnest, Was not spoken of the soul.”

While many have tried to explain the meaning of eternity, no one has ever succeded in defining the word adequately. “Whatever you say of eternity,” says Saint Augustine, “you will fall far short of the subject. It is impossible for our weak intelligence to form an absolutely clear conception of eternity.” Some have compared the word with things we know. Boetius, for example, tells us “eternity is the complete possession of a life that has no end.” Saint Bernard calls it “a condition comprising in itself all times, the present, past and the future.” Saint Gregory says, “eternity is one long day, never followed by night.” Some have compared eternity with the sands on the sea shore, drops of water in all the oceans of the world, or the multiple letters in the books that have ever been printed. But in the fanciful flight of our imagination we might still look forward to a time when every grain of sand might be counted, every drop in the oceans or letters in all the books accounted for, and yet, when all that is accomplished we would still be forced to say that eternity had just begun.

This is the eternity that confronts us at death. From the moment you and I were born into the world, each of us was started on the road to eternity. Mark the words of Holy Writ, saying, “Man shall go into the house of HIS eternity” (Eccles. 13, 5). Note the words, “his eternity!” Your eternity, my eternity, because everyone prepares his own eternity. The Creator has endowed us with understanding and free will. The choosing is ours to determine what kind of an eternity awaits us. The difference lies between sinner and saint. In Christ’s own words, the former will be greeted with the words: “Come, ye blessed of my Father, possess you the kingdom prepared for you”; the latter with the words: “Depart from me, ye cursed, into everlasting fire” (Matt. 25, 34–41).

Proper reflection upon these words and what kind of eternity might await them, led many people to alter the course of their lives and prepare for a happy eternity. Ask the Saints of God who have gone before us and are now enjoying their eternal reward in heaven at this moment what prompted them to lead heroic lives. It was the thought of eternity that made Saint Stephen remain steadfast in his martyrdom, that sustained Saint Lawrence and rendered endurable his death in the flames; that made St. Augustine desire only crosses and suffering in this life and led him to exclaim: “Here burn, here cut, O Lord, but spare me in eternity.”

After so many of our patriotic men and women had faced death on the far-flung battle fronts during the last World War, many others returned and sought seclusion in prayer and contemplation behind cloister and monastery walls. The same thought of eternity prompted kings and emperors to relinquish their crowns and renounce the world. Pope Celestine V resigned his eminent office in order to lead the life of a hermit. The thought of eternity has prompted untold others to a life of prayer, fasting, study, work and the fulfilment of the duties of a Christian, of one’s state of life, of every kind of penance, of keeping all the Commandments under the stress of temptation and adversity, in every nation and clime down through the centuries. Like Saint Bernard, they look upon life as seedingtime and their good deeds as the “seeds of eternity.”

These many cogent facts and examples should prompt us to reflect upon the thought of eternity and prepare for it while it is still time. For,

“Life is short—and death is sure;

The hour of death—remains obscure.

A soul you have- and only one;

If that be lost, all hope is gone.

Waste not your time—while time shall last

For after death “tis ever past.

The all-seeing God your Judge will be—Or heaven or hell, your destiny.

All earthly things will fleet away.

Eternity shall ever stay.”

By remembering this now, then, when our eternity begins, may it be said of each one of us: “Blessed is he that is found without blemish. For he hath done wonderful things in his life. He could have transgressed, and hath not transgressed; and could do evil things, and hath not done them. Who hath been tried thereby and made perfect, he shall have glory everlasting” (Eccles. 31, 8–11).

* * * *

“Then He will say to those on His left hand, “Depart from Me, accursed ones, into the everlasting fire” “ -Matt. 25, 41.

Some years ago the daily newspapers carried a gripping story, captioned with large glaring letters, EXILED. The story described the departure of 670 convicts of the worst type who had been banished from their native land to a penal colony on a small island in the South Atlantic. Hysterical over the prospects before them, these desperados were chained and handcuffed and herded into steel cages in a stinking prison ship on which they were slowly carried out from the habour of their native land. They were on their way to DeviI”s Island where they faced a cheerless and utterly hopeless future in a tropical heat to which they were not accustomed, and in quarters so restricted as to constitute a prison without walls. There these criminals of the worst type, rascals, murderers, thieves and thugs, were to waste away their lives and die, forgotten by kith and kin as completely as the public forgot them the hour the ship sailed.

These criminals deserved little mercy, but the nature of their punishment is one of the cruelest that can be devised. Some poet has said: “Stone walls do not a prison make, nor iron bars a cage.” It is not so much the physical ordeal confronting such convicts that is so terrible as the hopelessness of their plight, the horrible nostalgia in a far-off and forbidding land, the terrible mental depression which makes the punishment so gruesome. It is the nearest approach to hell itself that man can conceive.

But the word “hell” is no longer a wel come word in polite society. Much less will such tolerate any mention of eternal punishments or of everlasting fire and torments in hell. Now, we wish to frighten nobody. But silence will not extinguish the pains of hell, nor render them non-existent. Were all of us to agree to remain silent on the subject, hell would still continue to exist; for as sure as there is a heaven to hope for, so surely is there a hell to fear. Our Lord told us so, and God cannot deceive. And since this is true, we should think of it and speak of it more frequently; for knowing it, we shall fear it, and fearing it, we shall avoid it. “If those who argue against hell,” says Saint John Chrysostom, “would embrace virtue, they would soon be convinced of its existence.” Hence, like her Divine Founder, our Church teaches there is a hell; that souls there suffer a punishment which will never end; that both body and soul will suffer eternally after the General Judgment; that there is a fire in hell which will last forever; that the damned suffer pain, misery and despair, loss of God, indescribable agony, and unavailing remorse.

Here are some of the reasons for our belief: In the twenty-fifth chapter of Saint Mat thew’s Gospel, our Lord draws a vivid picture of the Last Judgment. All the people of the entire world will be gathered together. The good will be separated from the wicked. The Lord will say to those on His right hand: “Come, ye blessed of my Father, possess you the kingdom prepared for you.” But to those on the left He will say: “Depart from me, you cursed, into everlasting fire, which was prepared for the devil and his angels.” Immediately Christ adds these significant words: “And these shall go to everlasting punishment; but the just intolife everlasting.” Saint John (Apoc. 20, 9–10), describes hell in these words: “There came down fire from God out of heaven, and devoured them; and the devil, who seduced them, was cast into a pool of fire and brimstone, where both the beast and the falseprophet shall be tormented day and night for ever and ever.”

And Saint Paul is even more specific in singling out those who will not enter into the kingdom of heaven. “Know you not,” he asks, “that the unjust shall not possess the kingdom of God? Be not deceived! Neither fornicators, nor idolators, nor adulterers, nor the effeminate, nor thieves, nor the covetous, nor drunkards, nor railers, nor extortioners, shall possess the kingdom of God” (I Cor. 6, 9–10; Gal. 5, 19). “These words would be untrue,” says Saint Augustine, “if the damned after a length of time, would be set free from hell, if they would yet possess the kingdom of God.” And Saint Gregory adds: “The justice of the Supreme Judge requires that they who in this life would never be without sin, should never be without punishment in the hereafter.” Then Saint Chrysostom argues this way: “All of us, Greeks and Jews, heretics and Christians, acknowledge that God is just. Now, many who sinned have passed away without being punished, while many others who led virtuous lives did not die until they had suffered innumerable tribulations. If God is just, how will He reward the latter and punish the former, unless there be a hell and a resurrection?”

If further proof for the existence of hell is needed, then let us hear from a few pre-Christian and pagan sources. The ancient Greeks believed in their Tartarus. Plato says: “The wicked will be precipitated into Tartarus, never more to come out.” Xenocrates taught that the souls of the wicked wander about in dark places under the earth. Plutarch held that the wicked, after death, are confined in a place that no man can open. The Latin poet, Virgil, in his Aeneid, portrays to us the never-ending sufferings of the damned souls. The Jews compared hell to Gehenna, in a valley near Jerusalem, in which human beings, especially babies, were sacrificed to the god of fire, Moloch. Hence Plato, the poet and philosopher, declares in his Phaedo: “After having maturely weighed all things and tested them severely, I have found nothing that is more compatible with wisdom, reason and truth,” than the belief in hell and its punishments.

There are those who say that such an eternal punishment is unreasonable, altogether out of proportion to a sin committed which takes but a brief moment of time. But such a comparison is not correctly drawn. We must first consider the nature of mortal sin for which hell is the punishment; secondly, the nature of the damned who are undergoing the punishment; and, thirdly, the nature of God Who imposes and enforces the punishment.

No one will go to hell against his will. Only those are there who have died unrepentant, with mortal sins upon their souls. And a mortal sin is a deliberate defiance of God and His laws in grave matter in which the sinner knowingly and deliberately exclaims defiantly: “Non serviam!” “I will not serve!” “Even here on earth,” says Saint Thomas, “the fact that adultery or murder is committed in a moment, does not call for a momentary punishment; in fact, these crimes are sometimes punished by imprisonment or banishment for life, sometimes even by death; this punishment, in its own way, represents the eternity of punishment inflicted by God.” And if the punishment were not eternal, then the worst criminal could for all eternity remain in defiance of God, knowing that in due time the punishment for his crime would cease. Therefore, it is man, not God, who creates an eternal punishment for himself. God merely permits it, in order not to frustrate the free will of man which makes man accountable for his good as well as his evil deeds.

What are the pains of hell? They are both positive and negative. The positive suffering in hell is that of pain. This we can readily understand here on earth, being, as we are, surrounded by so much suffering. But perhaps the greatest suffering in hell is that of loss, which we can less readily understand. The latter suffering of loss, I would rather stress as the greater by far of the sufferings endured by the damned. Nothing hurts a child more than to hear from an angry parent the words: “Depart from me!” “Get out of our house!” A soul that is lost will be deprived forever of the happiness of seeing God face to face. To its eternal regret, the lost soul will realise that, through its own fault, it has forfeited the greatest of all blessings and missed the very purpose of its existence here on earth, namely, one day to enjoy the Beatific Vision.

Here is how Saint John Chrysostom describes this pain of loss: “The fire of hell is insupportable—who does not know it? and its torments are awful. But if you were to heap a thousand hell-fires one on top of the other, it would be as nothing compared to the punishment that consists in being excluded from the beatific glory of heaven, hated by Christ, and compelled to hear Him say: “I know thee not”.” All former love between friends on earth now turns into hate; only curses, complaints, accusations, weeping, and gnashing of teeth remain. No kind or friendly word between former friends will ever fall on their ears, nothing but groans, curses, and shrieks, to which they will add their own lamentations and unavailing regrets.

Do you wish to avoid such an eternal calamity? Here is the admonition of Saint Bernard: “Descend into hell during life, that you may not descend after death.” We will then work out our salvation in fear and trembling. Many who are Saints in heaven today would never have persevered in virtue, except for the fear of hell. And if the thought of a loving and merciful God can no longer move us to do good and avoid evil, then let us, with filial fear, turn to the God of Justice and pray with the Psalmist: “Pierce Thou my flesh with Thy fear, for I am afraid of Thy judgments” (Ps. 118, 12).

* * *

“Eye has not seen, nor ear heard, neither has i t entered into the heart of man, what things God has prepared for those who love Him” I Cor 2, 9.

As we approach the twilight of life all agree that life on earth, even at its best, is an unsatisfying thing. “Within each spirit’s hidden depths

Some sweet hope withered lies,

From whose soft, faded bloom we turn

In sadness to the skies.”

Yes, no matter how numerous our successes, no matter how extensive the acquisition of our knowledge, no matter how great our wealth or physical comforts we may acquire and enjoy along life’s way, we are ever conscious of desires and yearnings that nothing on earth can satisfy. This human trait manifests itself already in early childhood, accompanies us through youth to old age, and terminates only at the grave with death.

Some have sought to satisfy these desires in creatures. Such people are sadly disillusioned through life, and especially at death. With a belated remorse such people then realise that we are destined for something incomparably better than anything this world can offer. For, as the Author of nature, God has endowed the soul of every man with an innate and fixed propensity, namely, a desire for the good, the beautiful, and the true; nay more, for the perfectly good, the perfectly beautiful, and the absolute true. The purpose of this continual restlessness is to lead us ultimately back to God, to heaven. Saint Augustine expressed it when he exclaimed: “O Lord, our hearts are restless until they rest in Thee!”

And to this natural propensity, God has further added the supernatural gift of faith through Baptism, giving us added knowledge of God and divine things; guiding us, if we follow His teachings and carry out His precepts, to the ultimate fulfilment of our exalted desires and aspirations. Then, in order to encourage us in our struggles and sorrows, Jesus has given us reminders of the brevity of our earthly pilgrimage, and promises of rewards exceedingly great if we persevere faithfully to the end. “Your reward,” He assures us, “is very great in heaven” (Matthew 5, 12). Again, “be thou faithful until death, and I will give thee the crown of life” (Apoc. 2, 10). This leads Saint Paul to exclaim: “I reckon that the sufferings of the present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory to come” (Rom. 8, 18).

This brings us to the question: What is heaven? Words fail us when we attempt to define what heaven is; our efforts are but feeble attempts to describe heaven adequately. In general, and by way of analogy, heaven has been described as “the accomplishment of all the desires of God, of creatures, and of man; as the restoration of all things into a state of absolute perfection; as the eternal repose of quiet and order.” Saint Thomas indicates that even the earth and its elements will be changed to serve the elect. The water shall then be crystal-clear; the air pure as the clearest sky; fire as bright as the sun and the stars; and the surface of the earth as transparent as glass, with a sweet unchanging temperature. Saint John pictures heaven with its gates of pearl, its streets of pure gold, its foundations of all precious stones, its light of the glory of God (Apoc. 21, 19–23). Yet, all these are mere wordpictures, in no way pretending to describe the real beauty of God’s house.

AS FOR GOD, we may describe heaven as the full enjoyment of all His works; the manifestation of His glory, power, goodness, wisdom, and all His other perfections or attributes; the loving intercourse and companionship of a fond Father with His affectionate children; the immense, eternal, overflowing love of creatures for God. AS FOR MAN, every creature will retain his own individuality, but will form a union with God so intimate that everyone will enjoy an ocean of unspeakable delights and the plenitude of his being. In heaven man will realise the accomplishment of all his legitimate desires. This comprises two things, namely freedom from all evil, and perfect possession of all good.

The negative side of heavenly happiness, namely, freedom from all evil, can be more readily understood by us mortals, because of our daily experiences. Life as a whole is often spoken of as “a vale of tears,” both for body and soul; the spirit constantly in conflict with the flesh. “We have passions that tyrannize over us, thoughts that trouble us, desires that torment us, remorse for the past, disgust of the present, solicitude for the future, weariness, bitterness, agitation.” As for the body, we are constantly plagued with pain, toil, fatigue, infirmity, disease, poverty, disaster, reverses of fortune- an unending series of evils without end. In heaven these body afflictions will cease, never to return. “God will wipe away,” says Holy Writ, “every tear from their eyes. And death will be no more; neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away” (Apoc. 21, 4). If heaven were nothing more than this, that in itself would be a blessing without comparison to anything we know of here on earth. Yet, this is only a small portion of what heaven really is, and as we unfold these heavenly beauties one by one, the words of Saint Paul will become an eternal reality when he tells us that “eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither has it entered into the heart of man, what things God has prepared for those who love him” (I Cor. 2, 9).

* *

“We see now through a glass in a dark manner, but then face to face” I Cor. 13, 12.

Let us never lose sight of the fact that, by God’s eternal decree, heaven is our goal, heaven is man’s destiny. Reason, revelation, and the experience of more than six thousand years unite in the one proclamation that perfect happiness cannot be found in this world. It certainly cannot be found in creatures, because they were not endowed with the powers to bestow it. Perfect happiness cannot be found even in the practice of virtue, because God, in His wisdom, has decreed that virtue should merit, but never impart perfect happiness in this world. But God has solemnly pledged to bestow “eternal life” upon all who love and serve Him here on earth. He has promised a happiness so unspeakably great that it will surpass all that our senses ever enjoyed here on earth.

From what has been revealed to us, this happiness in heaven falls into two categories, namely, the primary and the secondary happiness. The primary, or SUPREME HAPPINESS in heaven, consists in seeing God “face to face.” It consists in the possession and enjoyment of God Himself in the BEATIFIC VISION which bestows perfect satisfaction on every rational craving of our nature in the glorious resurrection of the body.

An admonition is in place here; namely, that we must guard against certain mistakes when speaking of the joys of heaven. We are very apt to build up a heaven of our own, which naturally takes the shape and colour which our sorrows, needs, and sufferings might suggest. The poor man, for example, who has suffered much from toil and want, may look upon heaven as a place of rest, abounding in all that can satisfy the cravings of nature. Another, who has endured the pangs of disease, may look upon heaven as a place where he will enjoy perpetual health of body and mind. Still another, who, in the practice of virue, has had all manner of temptations to overcome, may delight in viewing heaven as a place totally free from temptation where even the possibility of sin will be excluded. All these things, with many other pleasures that come from creatures, are, to be sure, a portion of our heavenly joys; but they are accidental, or secondary joys, that accompany the essential and primary happiness which the soul receives immediately from God in the Beatific Vision.

This distinction is so important that we might make it more understandable with an illustration. A man, for example, is gifted with perfect health of body and mind. He not only enjoys life itself, but likewise receives much pleasure from the beauties of nature, from literature, amusements, and society. Now suppose that he loses his health, and sickness lays him low. He is no longer able to enjoy either life itself, or its pleasures, because, with the loss of health, he has lost also the powers of appropriating the secondary pleasures of life; for this man, then, health is essential for the enjoyment of life, while the relish of other pleasures is secondary. So, too, in heaven: the Beatific Vision is essential, not only to enjoy the very life of heaven, but likewise to enjoy the accidental or secondary glory wherewith God perfects and completes the happiness of His elect.

Now let us analyze the MEANING OF THE BEATIFIC VISION. It is composed of three Latin words, namely, “beatus,” happy; “facio,” I make; and “visio,” sight; all of which taken together may be translated as a HAPPY-MAKING SIGHT. Therefore, Beatific Vision means a sight which contains in itself the power to banish all pain, all sorrow from the beholder, and to infuse, in their stead, joy and happiness. Then, considering it as a perfect and permanent state, the Beatific Vision consists in three acts which are essential to its integrity and perfection. These are: (1) the sight or vision of God; (2) the love of God; and (3) the enjoyment of God. These three acts, while distinct from each other, are inseparable; for, by excluding any one of these, the Beatific Vision no longer exists in its integrity. Let us explain: (1) The greatest and most essential joy of the Blessed consists in the VISION OF GOD, seeing Him face to face, and the enjoyment of His infinite beauty. “Blessed are the clean of heart, for they shall see God” (Matthew 5, 8). On this earth there is nothingeven remotely comparable to this vision. “We see now,” says Saint Paul, “through a glass in a dark manner, but then face to face.” This sight or vision of God is attained, not by the eyes of the body, but through the intellect- the noblest faculty of the soul- which is suddenly elevated by the light of glory, and enabled to see

God as He is by a clear and unclouded perception of His divine essence. We shall then see and understand God in the

Most Holy Trinity—the infinitely powerful Father Who created us, the infinitely wise Son Who redeemed us, and the infinitely good Holy Ghost who sanctified us.

“He will all glory, all perfection be,

God in Union, and the Trinity!

That holy, great, and glorious mystery,

Will there revealed be in majesty,

By light and comfort of spirtual grace;

The vison of our Saviour face to face,

In his humanity; to hear him preach

The price of our redemption, and to teach

Through his inherent righteousness in death,

The safety of our souls and forfeit breath!

What fulness of beatitude is here!

With love with mercy mixed doth appear!”

(2) The last line indicates the second act on the part of the soul in order to complete the Beatific Vision. It is an act of perfect and inexpressible love, because it is impossible for the soul to see God in His heavenly beauty, goodness, and unspeakable love for us, without loving Him with all the power of our being in return.

“What love with mercy mixed doth appear!

To style us friend, who were by nature foes!

Adopt us heirs by grace, who were of those

Had lost ourselves; and prodigally spent

Our native portions and possessed rent!

Yet have all debts forgiven us! and advance

By imputed right to an inheritance

In his eternal kingdom, where we sit,

Equal with angels, and coheirs of it.”

Although the tongue of man is powerless to describe adequately so great a wonder, this blending together of the human and divine love, yet, we see some image of it in sensible, or visible objects. In nature, the stronger always attracts the weaker. Thus the grey iron that is placed in the fire takes in heaven shall be so inflamed with the fire on the appearance of fire. So also the Blessed of God’s love, that, although their nature remains unchanged, they will differ from those on earth as fire at white heat from the frozen clod.

(3) With the seeing of God face to face, with this intense love that arises through the Beatific Vision, there follows the third act, namely, that indescribable joy which proceeds spontaneously from both the vision and the love of God. “There all the happy souls that ever were,

Shall meet with gladness in one theatre;

And each shall know there one another’s face,

By beatific virtue of the place.

There shall the brother with the sister walk,

And sons and daughters with their parents talk;

But all of God: they still shall have to say,

But make him all in all their theme that day;

That happy day that never shall see night!

Where he will be all beauty to the sight.”

We know even now what joy comes to us when we are in the company of friends we love. If the Saints could faint away from the love of God they already experienced here on earth, what must be their rapturous love when, wrapt in God’s loving embrace, they gaze upon Him as He is! The Beatific Vision, then, is what makes heaven for the soul. But it is only the beginning of our heavenly happiness; for, we shall not only see God, the source of all loveliness; we shall not only possess God, the source of all goodness; we shall not only love God, the source of all delight; but we shall become like to Him, says Saint John (I John 3, 2). “We know that, when he appears, we shall be like to Him, for we shall see Him, just as He is.”

With Ecclesiastical Approval.

********

An Hour With Our Saviour

IN UNION WITH HIS LIFE ON EARTH

INDEX

The devotion of the “Eucharistic Hour” consists in spending an hour before the Blessed Sacrament, either exposed or in the Tabernacle. Members of the Arch-confraternity of the Blessed Sacrament, who promise to make this devotion once a month, can obtain many indulgences and privileges. This Confraternity was founded by St. Peter Julian Eymard, and its object is to adore Our Lord in the Sacrament of His Love, to watch with Him, and by every means to promote devotion to the Most Blessed Sacrament.

“How can we make the Blessed Sacrament the centre of our life?” Father Eymard asks; and this is his reply: “By knowing how to find Jesus therein; Jesus in association with the mysteries of His hidden life, of His public life, His crucified life, His risen life. By reviving all the phases of the Saviour’s past life in His sacramental life, in which they are so admirably continued and glorified. By seeing in the Eucharist Jesus, honouring and continuing in His resuscitated life the annihilation of His Incarnation, the poverty of His Nativity, the humility of His hidden life, the kindness of His public life, His love upon the Cross.” He recommends that during the hour before the Blessed Sacrament, one-quarter of an hour should be devoted to Adoration, one to Thanksgiving, one to Contrition, and the fourth to Petition or Supplication.

In the following pages, while the Blessed Sacrament is made the central object of devotion, each of these intentions has been associated with a phase of Our Lord’s life on earth. We Adore Him in the lowliness of His Nativity; we Thank Him for the wonderful three years of His public life, spent in teaching us how to go to Heaven. By the remembrance of His sufferings and death on the Cross, we are incited to Contrition and a desire to make Reparation for our sins and those of others; while our Petitions and Supplications should arise from hearts full of faith and hope to the Risen Lord, Who conquered death, and afterwards ascended to Heaven in the sight of His Apostles.

During this Hour of Adoration, let us endeavour to express to our Eucharistic King our gratitude for all He has done for us. And, in particular, let us thank Him for the countless hours which He spends on our altars, longing to receive our homage and love and to listen to our prayers.

FIRST QUARTER OF THE HOLY HOUR

ADORATION

IN UNION WITH THE INFANCY OF OUR LORD

Kneel down, and look with great reverence and devotion at the Monstrance; or, if there is not Exposition of the Blessed Sacrament, at the Tabernacle, and say very devoutly the words said by St. Thomas when Jesus showed him His Sacred Wounds:

My Lord and my God!

THEN MAKE AN ACT OF FAITH AND LOVE

O my Jesus! I adore You and love You. I believe that You are here, looking down on me and listening to me. I believe that at this moment You are as truly present on this altar as You are in Heaven, and as You were in Bethlehem on the first Christmas Day. How strange and wonderful it was then to think that the little Infant in the manger was the great God of Heaven and earth! And it seems even stranger and more wonderful to know that the same Eternal Lord is now present on this altar, in the form of the Sacred Host. But this, O my Jesus, is just what I do believe, with all my heart and soul.

So now I come to spend an hour in Your presence, desiring to show my love and reverence for You, O hidden God, dear Babe of Bethlehem. And I beg of You to bless me, and to grant that I may love and serve You all my life.

Holy Child Jesus, bless us.

Jesus, my God, I love Thee above all things. (50 days.)

LET US ADORE OUR INFANT KING

Glory be to God on high! All praise and thanks to You, O my Jesus, Who came down to earth to save me and all mankind. All praise and thanks to You, Whose first home was a poor stable, Whose only guardians were Your Mother and St. Joseph, Whose first visitors were some poor shepherds. But what happiness, what consolation, those shepherds must have brought to Your Heart, my Saviour, when in obedience to the words of the angel, they came in haste to find You, and offer You their love and reverence. Full of faith and joy, they spread the glad tidings, so that all that heard wondered at the things told them by the shepherds, who then returned glorifying and praising God for what they had heard and seen.

Let me also bring joy to Your Heart, O my Jesus, when I come into Your sacramental presence. Inspire me often to come to visit You, and to bring others if I can. You are amongst us, day and night, in a form even more humble than that which was seen by the shepherds; and in the churches You are even more dependent on the love of Your faithful friends than You were in the stable at Bethlehem. For there You had beside You Your holy Mother and St. Joseph, who were never weary of caring for You; while here, in the Tabernacle, You are often quite alone, except for the angels.

But once You had come to dwell amongst us, it would seem, O loving Jesus, that it was Your wish to remain with us always. And so it comes to pass that at all times You are near us in the Blessed Eucharist; ever ready to welcome us when we come into Your presence, ever ready to hear our prayers and to grant us all that is for our benefit. And, therefore, we now repeat with great joy and fervour: All praise and thanks to You, our Saviour, and glory to God on high!

Sweet Child of Bethlehem,

Open Thy Heart.

Lessons from Nazareth

Deign to impart.

Mary and Joseph dear,

Let me be to Jesus near;

With you we shall not fear

From Him to part.

O Jesus, friend of the little ones, bless the children of the whole world. (100 days.) Jesus, Mary and you, O good Joseph, bless us now and at the hour of our death. (50 days.)

PRAYER FOR THE LOVE OF JESUS

O my Jesus, Thou well knowest that I love Thee; but I do not love Thee enough: O make me to love Thee more. O love which burnest always and is never extinguished, my God, Thou Who art Charity itself, kindle in my heart that divine fire which consumes the saints and transforms them into Thee. Amen. (50 days, twice a day.)

PRAYER TO OUR INFANT KING

O King of Kings! You were poor indeed in the Crib on the first Christmas Day; and the first adorer whom You called to You were the poor shepherds. In the holy Sacrament of the altar, You are even more hidden and obscure than at Bethlehem, and You still love to see around You the poor and the humble.

O Divine Infant! we adore You in Your poverty and obscurity; and we beg of You, through the intercession of Your holy Mother, to give us a spirit of detachment from the things of this world, so that at all times we may be among those of whom You said: “Blessed are the poor in spirit; for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.”

Jesus, Mary, Joseph, I give you my heart and my soul.

Jesus, Mary, Joseph, assist me in my last agony.

Jesus, Mary, Joseph, may I breathe forth my soul in peace with you. (300 days.)

Most holy and Immaculate Virgin Mary, Mother of God and our Mother, speak on our behalf to the Heart of Jesus, Who is thy Son and our Brother. (100 days, once a day )

AT BETHLEHEM ANGELS WE HAVE HEARD ON HIGH

Sweetly singing o’er the plains;

And the mountains in reply

Echo back their joyous strains;

“Gloria in excelsis Deo!”

Come to Bethlehem and see

He Whose birth made angels sing. Come, adore on bended knee Christ the Lord, the new-born King: Glory be to God on’ high!

See Him in a manger laid,

He Whom choirs of angels praise. Mary, Joseph, lend your aid, While our hearts in love we raise. “Gloria in excelsis Deo!”

Jesus, meek and humble of heart, make my heart like unto Thine. (300 days.) O Jesus in the most holy Sacrament, have mercy on us. (300 days.)

TO HONOUR THE MOST HOLY SACRAMENT

In union with the faithful on earth and the saints in Heaven, I adore Thee, O Jesus, true God and true Man, here present in the Holy Eucharist. I thank Thee profoundly for this great benefit; and with my whole heart I love Thee, my Jesus, Who art infinitely perfect and infinitely worthy of love. Grant me the grace never to offend Thee in anything; and that, strengthened and refreshed by Thy Eucharistic presence here on earth, I may deserve to enter, with Mary and Joseph, into the enjoyment of Thy everlasting and blessed presence in Heaven. Amen.

Blessed and praised every moment, Be the most holy and divine Sacrament: (300 days.)

PRAISE AND ADORATION

My God, I offer You all the homage and adoration which have ever been offered to You in Heaven and on earth, and which will be offered to You in future ages. And I desire to multiply acts of this offering as many times as there are stars in the heavens, atoms in the air, leaves on the trees, grains of sand on the earth, and drops of water in the ocean. I earnestly desire that every beating of my heart until the last moment of my life may be a renewal of this offering, which I present by the Sacred Hands and through the divine merits of Our Lord Jesus Christ, Who was born in a stable at Bethlehem, Who spent thirty-three years on this earth, and Who suffered and died on the Cross to redeem the world. And I wish to make this offering for the conversion of sinners, for the perseverance of the just, for the relief and deliverance of the souls in Purgatory, and in reparation for all the sins which have been and will be committed to the end of time. Amen.

PRAYER IN HONOUR OF THE HOLY FAMILY

Grant us, O Lord Jesus, faithfully to imitate the examples of Thy Holy Family, so that in the hour of our death, in the company of Thy glorious Virgin Mother and St. Joseph, we may deserve to be received by Thee into eternal tabernacles. (200 days, once a day.)

SECOND QUARTER OF AN HOUR

THANKSGIVING

IN UNION WITH OUR LORD DURING HIS PUBLIC LIFE

May the Heart of Jesus in the most Blessed Sacrament be praised, adored and loved with grateful affection at every moment in all the Tabernacles of the world, even to the end of time. Amen. (300 days, once a day.)

Into this dark world Jesus came, And all men might His form behold; He suffered toil and grief and shame And death, that we might be consoled.

To all He showed that gentle Face; On good and bad alike it shone; Its perfect loveliness and grace The Lord of all concealed from none.

O love of Christ beyond all love! O clemency beyond all thought! O grace all praise of men above, Whereby such gifts to men are brought!

O blessed Face, whose praise we sing! Here in the way we worship Thee; That in the country of our king, Filled with Thy glory we may be.

To God on high be praises sweet, Equal to Thee, eternal Son,

Equal to Thee, blest Paraclete, While never-ending ages run! Amen.

TO JESUS WHO WENT ABOUT DOING GOOD TO ALL

Having spent many years, my Jesus, in Nazareth, where You worked as a poor carpenter, You came forth to preach the word of God among the people of Judea. During the three years that followed, You taught us many lessons, both by word and example. You went around doing good to all. You were ever kind and compassionate, ever ready to help those in difficulty or distress. You restored Lazarus to his sisters, the daughter of Jairus to her parents, the widow’s son to his mourning mother. You pardoned repentant sinners, you cured the blind, the deaf, the lame. You dearly loved little children, and kept them near You when the disciples, fearing that they were troubling You, wished to send them away. You told us that our chief duty was to love God above all things and That we should also love our neighbour as ourselves.

Help us to imitate Your zeal, Your unwearying charity; Your compassion to the poor and the weak; Your gentleness to the sinful and sorrowful. Help us to profit by the lessons of the Gospel, and to obey its teachings with a willing and cheerful heart.

We thank You, my Jesus, for those three toilsome years of Your public ministry, during which You made plain for us the pathway to Heaven. Above all, we thank You for the crowning pledge of our salvation, the crowning miracle of Your love; the Sacrament of the Blessed Eucharist, which You instituted on the eve of Your death. Through it You abide for ever in our midst, to strengthen and console us as we make our way step by step to the kingdom of Your glory.

Blessed and praised every moment be the most holy and divine Sacrament. (300 days.)

A PRAYER THAT WE MAY REALISE THE DIVINE PRESENCE

O Jesus, hidden God, I come before Thee, earnestly imploring that Thou wouldst enliven my faith so that I may realise what Thy presence on the altar really means. I believe with all my heart and soul that Thou art here, but without Thy special grace my faith is dull, and moves me not as it ought to love Thee. I picture Thee as Thou didst appear to Thy disciples and friends on earth, and I think how sweet it would have been to kneel at Thy sacred feet, to kiss Thy sacred hands, to tell Thee all my wants, my troubles, and my failings. How sweet it would have been even to linger near Thee, hoping for-a look from Thy compassionate eyes-one glance from which left Peter heartbroken for his fault against Thee! O dear Lord, if my faith were more vivid, I would see that this happiness is virtually mine. I can speak to Thee here, knowing that Thou art close to me, that Thou art looking at me, that Thou art listening to me, just as Thou didst when amongst those friends who pressed around Thee here on earth, gaining strength of body and soul from Thy gracious presence.

Help me, dear Lord, to address Thee with the same love and confidence as if I really saw Thee. I know that all my concerns, spiritual and temporal, are of deepest interest to Thy loving heart; and that Thou art willing and anxious to help and to console me. There is no cross so great that I shall not feel relief after speaking of it to Thee, no annoyance too trivial to be unworthy of Thy sympathy. How many difficulties would be cleared away, how many unkind and angry thoughts would vanish, how much slighter my daily troubles and worries would appear, if I would only come and tell Thee of them.

Give me, then, Lord, this ardent faith and loving confidence. As St. John, with love-quickened eyes, recognised Thee through the dim mists of the dawn on the shores of the lake, so may my heart, each time I enter Thy sacred presence, echo his cry of joy: “It is the Lord.” Thus will Thy sanctuary become for me a haven of rest and consolation, were I may gain strength to continue my journey; until the dawn of that happy day, when, purified and sanctified by Thy sufferings and merits, I shall joyfully enter Thy heavenly kingdom, there to behold for ever Thy unveiled glory. Amen.

-From “The Golden Censer.”

Praised be the most Sacred Heart of Jesus in the most Blessed Sacrament. (100 days.)

O Heart of love, I place all my trust in Thee; for, though I fear all things from my weakness, I hope all things from Thy mercies.-St. Margaret Mary. (300 days.)

ACT OF CONFIDENCE IN GOD

O sweet and tender Providence of my God! into Thy hands I commend my spirit; to Thee I abandon my hopes and fears, my desires and repugnances, my temporal and eternal prospects. To Thee I commit the wants of my perishable body; to Thee I commit the more precious interests of my immortal soul, for whose lot I have nothing to apprehend whilst I withdraw it not from Thy bosom. Though my faults are many, my misery great, my spiritual poverty extreme, my hope in Thee surpasses all; it is superior to my weakness, greater than my difficulties, stronger than death. Though temptations should assail me, I will hope in Thee; though I should sink beneath my weakness, I will hope in

Thee still; though I should break my resolutions, I will look to Thee confidently for grace to keep them at last. Though Thou shouldst kill me, even then will I trust in Thee; for Thou art my Father, my God, the support of my salvation. Thou art my kind, my tender and indulgent parent, and I am Thy loving child who cast myself into Thy arms, and beg Thy blessing; who put my trust in Thee, and so trusting shall not be confounded. Amen.-Blessed Claude de la Columbiere.

My God, my only good, Thou art all mine; grant that I may be all Thine. (300 days, once a day.) Sacred Heart of Jesus, Thy Kingdom come. (300 days.)

PRAISES TO JESUS CHRIST AND MOST HOLY MARY PRAISED BE JESUS CHRIST, SON OF GOD

Praised be Jesus, true God and true man

Praised be Jesus, author of life

Praised be Jesus, eternal wisdom

Praised be Jesus, infinite goodness

Praised be Jesus, God of peace

Praised be Jesus, Good Shepherd

Praised be Jesus, most loving Father

Praised be Jesus, our Saviour

Praised be Jesus, our Hope

Praised be Jesus, our Love

Praised be Jesus, our Life

Praised be Jesus, our beginning

Praised be Jesus, our end

May Jesus be ever praised

Most Holy Mary.

Praised be Mary, daughter of the Eternal Father Praised be Mary, Mother of the Word Incarnate Praised be Mary, Spouse of the Divine Spirit

Praised be Mary, co-redemptress of the world

Praised be Mary, Immaculate Queen

Praised be Mary, full of grace

Praised be Mary, refuge of sinners

Praised be Mary, Mother most merciful

Praised be Mary, consoler of the sorrowful

Praised be Mary, refuge of the afflicted

Praised be Mary, star of promise in the midst of evil Praised be Mary, safe harbour for travellers

Praised be Mary, our comfort in life

Praised be Mary, our hope in death. (100 days, once a day.)

May Mary be ever praised

THANKSGIVING AND PRAISE

O God, our true life, in Whom and by Whom all things live, I praise and bless and adore Thee; I worship Thee, I glorify Thee, I give Thee thanks for Thy great glory. I humbly beseech Thee to abide with me, to reign in me, to make this heart of mine a holy temple, a fit dwelling for Thy Divine Majesty. O Thou Maker and Preserver of all things, visible and invisible! Keep, I beseech Thee, the work of Thine own hands, who trusts in Thy mercy alone for safety and protection. Guard me with the power of Thy grace, here and in all places, now and for all times, for evermore.-St. Augustine.

May the most just, most high, and most adorable will of God be in all things done, praised and magnified for ever. (100 days, once a day.)

JESUS, THE GOOD SHEPHERD LOVING SHEPHERD, EVER NEAR,

Teach me still Thy voice to hear:

Suffer not my steps to stray,

From the straight and narrow way.

Loving Shepherd, Thou didst give Thine own life that I might live. May I love Thee day by day, Gladly Thy sweet Will obey.

Where Thou leadest may I go, Walking in Thy steps below; Then before Thy Father’s throne, Jesus! claim me for Thine own. -”Holy Ghost Manual.”

THIRD QUARTER OF AN HOUR

CONTRITION AND REPARATION

IN UNION WITH THE SUFFERINGS AND DEATH OF OUR LORD

We adore Thee, most holy Lord Jesus Christ, we bless Thee, because by Thy holy Cross Thou hast redeemed the world. (100 days, once a day.)

Sweetest Jesus be to me not a judge but a Saviour. (50 days.)

PRAYER IN REMEMBRANCE OF OUR LORD’S PASSION

On the night before Your death, my Jesus, You instituted the Sacrament of the Eucharist, the Sacrament of Love, whereby You remain at all times in our midst. Then, knowing that Your Passion was at hand, You withdrew to the Garden of Gethesemane, where, in silence and loneliness, You faced the dread thought of the sufferings and death which awaited You. No wonder that your soul was sorrowful even unto death; and its bitterest pang was in knowing that for some unhappy sinners those sufferings would be unavailing. “Father!” You prayed in Your anguish, “if it be possible, let this chalice pass from Me; nevertheless, not as I will, but as Thou wilt.”

Help us, my Jesus, at all times to submit our wills to the will of God, as You did. When we are faced with trials or sorrows, we may indeed ask of God to be merciful to our weakness, to remedy our ills. But whether this prayer be granted or not, give us, we beseech You, a spirit of docile submission, of unquestioning resignation; so that, at all times, we may say earnestly and sincerely: “Not my will, my God, but Thine, be done.”

Soon, my Saviour, the soldiers came to seize You, led by the traitor Judas, who for three years had been Your friend. And while we shrink in honor from his treachery, let us remember that we ourselves share in that betrayal whenever, by our sins, we reject Your love and refuse the benefits which You obtained for us by dying on the Cross.

During the night which followed, You were scourged, crowned with thorns, mocked and insulted by the soldiers, denied by Peter, forsaken by Your friends. And, in the morning, You were laden with Your Cross and led out to be crucified.

As you hung in agony upon that Cross, Your first words were a prayer that Your Heavenly Father might forgive those who had nailed You to it. Forgive me also, my Jesus, for my sins, which helped to nail You to the Cross. Forgive me for my coldness and indifference to Your love, for the little love I show You compared with the boundless love You have shown for me.

As You comforted the repentant thief with a promise of Paradise, comfort me now with the hope of Your mercy and forgiveness. Give me Your holy Mother to be my Mother, as You did to St. John. And as You, at the end of three hours, freely resigned Your soul into the hands of Your Eternal Father, so I now wish to offer up my heart and my soul, my life and my death, in full and complete submission to Your holy Will. Into Your hands, O Lord, I commend my spirit. Lord Jesus, receive my soul.

Jesus, for Thee I live. Jesus, for Thee I die. Jesus, I am Thine in life and in death. Amen. (100 days.)

AN ACT OF REPARATION TO JESUS CRUCIFIED

My Jesus, I should like to make some reparation to You for all You suffered during Your Passion. Whenever I have to endure any pain or inconvenience, I will think of You, and try to bear my troubles patiently for

Your sake.

I will try to pray well, in reparation for those who neglect or refuse to pray to You.

I will try to obey Your commandments in all things in reparation for those who break Your laws by committing sin. With Your help, I will faithfully carry out all the duties of my state in life, because this is Your will. If I find my work tedious or difficult, I will be patient, remembering all You did and suffered for my sake.

I will try to visit You often in the church, even for a few minutes, in reparation for those who visit You seldom or not at all.

Help me, my Jesus, never to commit a deliberate sin; and if I do anything wrong, help me to make reparation and to obtain Your pardon quickly by a sincere and loving act of contrition.

Most sweet Jesus, increase my faith, hope, and charity; give me a humble and contrite heart. (100 days, once a day.) Divine Heart of Jesus, convert sinners, save the dying, set free the holy souls in Purgatory. (300 days.)

A DEVOUT ACT OF CONTRITION O KING OF HEAVEN, MY SINS FORGIVE,

And let me live, till this cold heart

By perfect penitence be wrung

And stung by conscience’s wholesome smart.

Hearken my prayer, incline Thine ear; Now let the tear of grace flow free; The sinner finds (his brief hour run) Pity from none, but only Thee. Thine is my life and Thine my death, God of all breath, my pride is o’er! One glance from Thee were all my wealth, My hope, my health, for evermore.

O Thou Who makest dead to live, The dying thief Thou didst not scorn; Hear now, as then, a sinner’s sigh, The bitter cry of me forlorn.

O pierced in foot and hand and side, O crucified for hearts of men, I turn to Thee; O turn to me!

I ne’er from Thee shall turn again.

O King of kings, O King of worlds, O King Who was, and is to be,

Forgive, O King, our world, and spare; Receive my prayer, and comfort me. -From the Irish.

TO JESUS PRESENT ON THE ALTAR

O Jesus! my Lord, my God, and my all! I believe that Thou art in Thy living manhood as truly present here in the Blessed Sacrament as when Thou didst walk amidst men and converse with them. Relying on Thy word, which shall not pass away, I believe that Thou art here, ever living to make intercession for us. Here is Thy sacred Body, which hung upon the Cross; here is Thy Soul, which was sorrowful unto death in the Garden of Olives, and endured an agony on account of my sins; here are those sacred wounds made by the nails and spear. Here are the eyes which looked with pity and love on the penitent Peter, and which are now upraised to plead for me with the Heavenly Father. Here are those ears which heard the cruel cry of the Jews, “Crucify Him!,” which listened so compassionately to all the ills of men, and which now are listening to me. (100 days, once a day.)

I THANK THEE, LORD, FOR HAVING DIED UPON THE CROSS FOR MY SINS. (300 DAYS, ONCE A DAY.)

The Cross is my sure salvation. The Cross I ever adore. The Cross of my Lord is with me. The Cross is my refuge.-St. Thomas Aquinas. (300 days, once a day.)

HYMN OF ST. FRANCIS XAVIER MY GOD, I LOVE THEE, NOT BECAUSE

I hope for Heaven thereby,

Nor because those who love Thee not

Must burn eternally.

Thou, O my Jesus, Thou didst me Upon the Cross embrace;

For me didst bear the nails and spear, And manifold disgrace.

And griefs and torments numberless, And sweat of agony;

E’en death itself, and all for one Who was Thine enemy.

Then why, O blessed Jesus Christ, Should I not love Thee well?

Not for the sake of winning Heaven, Nor of escaping Hell.

Not with the hope of gaining aught, Not seeking a reward,

But as Thyself hast loved me, O ever loving Lord!

E’en so I love Thee, and will love, And in Thy praise will sing, Solely because Thou art my God, And my Eternal King.

PRAYER TO OUR LORD JESUS CHRIST IN EVERY NEED LET ME COME TO THEE WITH HUMBLE TRUST, SAYING,

Jesus, help me.

In all my doubts, perplexities, and temptations,

Jesus, help me.

In hours of loneliness, weariness, and trials,

Jesus, help me.

In the failure of my plans and hopes; in sorrows, troubles, and disappointments, Jesus, help me.

When others fail me, and Thy help alone can succour me,

Jesus, help me.

When I throw myself on Thy tender love as a Father and Saviour, Jesus, help me.

When my heart is cast down by failure, seeing no good fruit from my efforts, Jesus, help me.

When I feel impatient and Thy Cross frets me,

Jesus, help me.

When I am ill and lonely and cannot work,

Jesus, help me.

Always, always, in spite of weakness, falls, and shortcomings of every kind, Jesus, help me, and never forsake me.

-Dr. Bilsborrow, Bishop of Salford.

Jesus, my God, I love Thee above all things. (50 days.)

My God, my only good, Thou art all mine; grant that I may be all Thine. (300 days, once a day.)

CONFORMITY TO GOD’S WILL

My Jesus, I accept cheerfully any sorrow or suffering which Your Providence may see fit to send me. My wish is in all things to conform myself to Your holy will. Whenever I kiss Your Cross, it is to show that I submit perfectly to mine.- St. Margaret Mary.

From the foot of the Cross I look up to Thee; O Jesus! Lord! bow down to me.

I profess the faith of my God this day, With love in my heart and hope alway. -From the Irish.

A PRAYER OF HOPE AND CONFIDENCE IN GOD

O God, incline Thy ear to me and hear my words. Show forth Thy wonderful mercies, Thou Who savest them that trust in Thee.

Protect me under the shadow of Thy wings, from the face of those who have afflicted me.

In Thee, O Lord, have I hoped; let me never be confounded. Be Thou unto me a God, a protector and a house of refuge to save me.

The Lord is my shepherd, and I shall want nothing. He hath set me in a place of pasture.

Though I should walk in the midst of the shadow of death, I will fear no evils, for Thou art with me. And Thy mercy will follow me all the days of my life-Taken from the Psalms.

Eucharistic Heart of Jesus, increase in us Faith, Hope, and Charity. (300 days.)

RESIGNATION TO GOD’S WILL

Lord, give me patience in tribulation, and grace in everything to conform my will to Thine; that I may truly say: Thy Will be done on earth as it is in Heaven.-Saint Thomas More.

THANKSGIVING TO JESUS IN THE BLESSED SACRAMENT

Dear Jesus, present in the Sacrament of the Altar, be for ever thanked and praised! Love, worthy of all celestial and terrestrial love, Who, out of infinite love for me, ungrateful sinner, didst assume our human nature, didst shed Thy most precious Blood in the cruel scourging, and didst expire on a shameful cross for our eternal welfare! Now, illumined with a lively faith, with the outpouring of my whole soul and the fervour of my heart, I humbly beseech Thee, through the infinite merits of Thy painful sufferings, give me strength and courage to destroy every evil passion which sways my heart, to bless Thee in my greatest afflictions, to glorify Thee by the exact fulfilment of all my duties, supremely to hate all sin, and thus to become a saint. (100 days, once a day.)

Blessed and praised be the Sacred Heart and Precious Blood of Jesus in the most holy Sacrament of the Altar. (300 days.)

PRAYER FOR GRACE TO DO THE WILL OF GOD

Grant me, most kind Jesus, Thy grace, that it may abide with me, labour with me, and persevere with me to the end. Grant me ever to desire and to will that which is the more acceptable to Thee and pleases Thee more dearly. May Thy Will be mine, and my will ever follow Thine, and be in closest accord with it.

May it be my one care to will and to be willing with Thee; and may I be unable to will or not will anything but what

Thou willest or willest not. (200 days, once a day.)

From the “Imitation of Christ.” -Translation from “Raccolta.”

FOURTH QUARTER OF THE HOLY HOUR

PETITION

IN UNION WITH OUR RISEN LORD

O God, Who by the resurrection of Thy Son, Our Lord Jesus Christ, hast given joy to the whole world; grant, we beg of Thee, that, through the prayers of the Virgin Mary, His Mother, we may obtain the joys of eternal life. Through the same Christ Our Lord. Amen.

Jesus, King and centre of all hearts, through the advent of Thy Kingdom, grant us peace. (300 days.) Saviour of the world, have mercy on us. (50 days, once a day.)

PRAYER TO OUR RISEN SAVIOUR

Before the dawn on Easter Sunday, You, Our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ, had triumphed over death, and had come forth, glorious and immortal, from the tomb in which You had lain since Friday evening.

During the days that followed, You commissioned the Apostles to preach Your doctrine, and promised that on Your return to Heaven You would send the Holy Ghost, Who would give them light and strength to accomplish all that God wished them to do.

After forty days, You led them out to Mount Olivet, and there, lifting up Your hands, You blessed them, and ascended to Heaven, where, says the Scripture, You sit on the right hand of God.

In that heavenly Kingdom to which You ascended, You, my Jesus, have prepared for each one of us a place. A place more glorious, more wonderful, than anything we can even imagine while we are here on earth. A place where there will be no more sorrow or pain, no weariness, no parting from those we love; above all, no sin, no fear of ever offending God.

And while we are waiting here on earth, and striving to earn our place in Heaven, we are comforted and made strong by Your presence among us in the most holy Sacrament of the Altar. You come to us in Holy Communion, to be the life and food of our souls; while at all times You remain in our churches, ready to hear our prayers, to listen with compassion to our troubles, to give us help and comfort in our difficulties.

What shall we ask of You, dear Lord, as we kneel at Your feet today?

First of all, the spiritual gifts and graces which we need to help us on our journey heavenward. Keep us from every taint of sin; make us more anxious to please You in all things, little as well as great; make us more careful in fulfilling our duties, more charitable, patient and unselfish. Bless those we love; give us peace and happiness and holiness in our homes. Grant that during our pilgrimage here on earth we may render ourselves worthy to hear one day from You the blessed words: “Well done, good and faithful servant; enter thou into the joy of thy Lord.”

All for Thee, most Sacred Heart of Jesus. (300 days.)

O Jesus in the most holy Sacrament, have mercy on us. (300 days.)

REST IN THE SACRED HEART O SACRED HEART! ALL BLISSFUL LIGHT OF HEAVEN,

Rapture of angels, beaming ever bright,

Joy of the blessed through Thy great love redeemed, When shall our eyes behold that glorious sight?

O Sacred Heart! O hope of those who sorrow, Rest of the weary, careworn and depressed, Sweetly lead home from earth Thy faithful children To where Thy love shall give us peace and rest.

A PRAYER TO THE SACRED HEART

O most Sacred Heart of Jesus, pour down Thy blessings abundantly upon Thy Church, upon the Supreme Pontiff, and upon all the clergy; give perseverance to the just, convert sinners, enlighten unbelievers, bless our relations, friends and benefactors, help the dying, free the souls in Purgatory and extend over all hearts the sweet empire of Thy love. (300 days, once a day.)

A PRAYER FOR OUR SPECIAL FRIENDS

O Blessed Lord, Who hast commanded us to love one another, grant us grace that, having received Thine undeserved bounty, we may love everyone in Thee and for Thee. We implore Thy clemency for all, but especially for the friends whom Thy love hath given to us. Love Thou them, O Thou fountain of love, and make them to love Thee with all their heart, that they may will, and speak, and do those things only which are pleasing to Thee. Amen.-St. Anselm.

Eucharistic Heart of Jesus, furnace of divine charity, give peace to the world. (300 days.)

A PRAYER FOR AUSTRALIA

O Jesus, our Saviour, look with mercy on Australia. Help her in her difficulties; give fidelity and constancy to us, her children; so that we may ever profess our faith openly, both in our words and our deeds. May we never do or say anything unworthy of our holy religion or of our native land.

Bless our pastors and our clergy, our religious societies, our schools. May our homes resemble that of Nazareth. Grant that Australia may be at all times and in all things a Christian nation, ever obedient to the teachings of the Gospel, and ever seeking the Kingdom of Heaven and the glory of Jesus Christ our King.

FOR PROTECTION AGAINST DANGERS MAY MARY, CHRIST, AND THE SAINTS BE BETWEEN US AND HARM

Mary and her Son,

Patrick and his staff,

Martin with his cloak,

Brigid with her hood,

Michael with his shield,

And God before them all, with His strong right arm. Amen.-From the Irish.

AN EARNEST APPEAL TO THE SACRED HEART

O Sacred Heart of Jesus, I fly, I come to Thee, throwing myself into the arms of Thy tender mercy. Thou art my secure refuge, my unfailing and only hope. Thou hast a remedy for all my evils, relief for all my miseries, reparation for all my faults. Thou canst supply for what is wanting in me in order to obtain fully the graces I ask for myself and others. Thou art for me, and for all, the infallible, inexhaustible source of light, of strength, of perseverance, peace, and consolation. I am certain that my importunity can never weary Thee; certain, too, that Thou wilt never cease to aid, to protect, to love me, because Thy love for me, O Divine Heart, is infinite. Have mercy on me, then, O Heart of Jesus, and on all that I recommend to Thee, according to Thine own mercy; and do with us, for us and in us whatsoever Thou wilt; for we abandon ourselves to Thee, with a full, entire confidence and conviction that Thou wilt never abandon us, either in time or eternity. Amen.

Sacred Heart of Jesus, I trust in Thee. (300 days.)

Dear Jesus, keep us in Thy Heart, Take our cold hearts away; Or make our hearts more like to Thine, More pure and meek each day. Ah, yes! e’en in this sinful world This is the better part;

What shall it be when safe for aye, Lord, in Thy Sacred Heart! -Father M. Russell.

PRAYER TOWARDS THE END OF THE HOLY HOUR

(See St. Luke xxiv, 13–35.)

Although I must soon depart from Thy sanctuary, O Lord, I earnestly entreat that I may always abide in Thy presence, today and every day of my life. Draw near to me, my Jesus, and speak to me on my ways as Thou didst to the two disciples going to Emmaus. Enlighten me when I am ignorant, console me when I am sad; so that my heart may burn within me, and the longest journey seem short, because Thou art with me.

Dear Lord, my life is passing swiftly. The day is already far spent, and Thou alone knowest how soon the evening will fall. Stay with me, then, in my daily trials and duties, my sorrows and joys; let me hold fast to Thee in the gather ing gloom, when my feet grow weary and my heart is troubled. And in Thine own good time, when I draw nigh to the Everlasting City whither I am going, when my eyes shall be opened on eternity, O grant that I may know Thee and see Thee-no longer hidden on the altar, no longer an unseen presence at my side, but as Thou didst enter into Thy glory, radiant and triumphant, O King of Earth and Heaven!-From “The Golden Censer.”

When the sun ascends each day, When it sinks, and day is o’er, Stay with me, good Jesus, stay! Dwell with me for evermore!

PRAYER FOR UNION WITH JESUS CHRIST

O my Jesus! grant that Thou mayest ever be the object of my thoughts and affections, the subject of my conversations, the end of my actions, the companion of my life, the companion of my death, and my reward eternally in Thy Heavenly Kingdom. Amen.

Jesus and Mary, we pray,

Be with us ever on our way.

THE ARCHCONFRATERNITY OF THE BLESSED SACRAMENT The object of this Archconfraternity is to adore Our Lord in the Sacrament of His Love; to watch with Him, and by every means to spread among the faithful devotion to the Blessed Sacrament.

Conditions of Admission

(1) Recite an Act of Consecration to the Blessed Sacrament.

(2) Have your full name entered on the Register of the Archconfraternity.

(3) Make a resolution to spend one hour each month before the Blessed Sacrament. (This hour must be continuous, and must not include the time spent at a Mass of Obligation.)

Some Privileges and Indulgences

(1) A share in the daily Masses and good works of over 130,000 priests.

(2) Each of these priests offers an annual Mass for deceased members.

(3) A Plenary Indulgence on the day of enrolment, on the usual conditions.

(4) A Plenary Indulgence each day a member spends an hour before the Blessed Sacrament, if he has received Holy

Communion that day.

(5) Seven years and seven quarantines for each Hour of Adoration on days on which Holy Communion was not received.

(6) Each time a member visits a church or public oratory and recites six Paters, Aves and Glorias, the Indulgences of the Stations in Rome, Jerusalem, St. James of Compostella and the Church of the Portiuncula; that is to say, an almost incalculable number of Plenary and Partial Indulgences.

(7) A Plenary Indulgence at the hour of death on saying the Holy Name of Jesus.

(8) A Plenary Indulgence, on the usual conditions, on several Feast Days.

ACT OF CONSECRATION

(Approved of by the Fathers of the Blessed Sacrament, Rome.)

In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.

I, servant of Jesus Christ, although unworthy, yet full of confidence in divine grace, under the guidance and auspices of the Immaculate Virgin Mary, under the protection of Saint Michael the Archangel, of Saint Joseph, of the blessed apostles Saint Peter and Saint Paul, of the beloved disciple Saint John, consecrate and devote myself with all my heart, with all my soul, and with all my strength to the service of adoring Jesus Christ Our Lord, truly, really, and substantially present in the Most Blessed Sacrament for the love of men; and in order to promote more efficaciously the reign of His love in me, in mine, and in the whole world, I associate myself to the life of adoration of the Congregation of the Most Blessed Sacrament, and promise to make in union with it and its associated members, the monthly adoration, and to devote myself, according to my ability, to the greatest glory of Jesus in His Sacrament of love.

Confirm in me, O my God, the work of Thy grace. O Mary, blessed Mother of Jesus, and my own loving Mother, help me as thy child, direct me in the service of Jesus, that I may serve Him worthily and please Him now, and finally, after death, have the happiness of praising and loving Him with thee for all eternity. Amen.

Nihil obstat:

F. MOYNIHAN,

Censor Deputatus.

Imprimatur:

@ D. MANNIX,

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis.

********

An Hour With The Sacred Heart

COMPILED BY REV. P. O’MARA, S. J

INDEX

PRAYERS to the Sacred Heart, approved of by the Church, and other prayers which seemed to appeal to devout lovers of the Sacred Heart during the Public Holy Hours at St. Francis Xavier’s, Gardiner Street, Dublin, constitute the contents of this little Book.

PROMISES MADE BY OUR LORD JESUS CHRIST

To St. Margaret Mary, in favour of those who practise and promote devotion to His Sacred Heart 1. I will give them all the graces necessary for their state of life.

2. I will give peace in their families.

3. I will console them in all their troubles.

4. They shall find in My Heart an assured refuge during life, and especially at the hour of death. 5. I will pour abundant blessings on all their undertakings.

6. Sinners shall find in My Heart the source and infinite ocean of mercy.

7. Tepid souls shall become fervent.

8. Fervent souls shall speedily rise to great perfection.

9. I will bless the homes in which the image of My Sacred Heart shall be exposed and honoured. 10. I will give to priests the power to touch the most hardened hearts.

11. Those who propagate this devotion shall have their name written in My Heart, and it shall never be effaced. 12. I promise thee, in the excess of the mercy of My Heart, that Its all-powerful love will grant to all those who receive

Communion on the First Friday of every month, for nine consecutive months, the grace of final repentance, and that they shall not die under My displeasure, nor without receiving their Sacraments, and My Heart shall be their secure refuge at that last hour.

I. QUARTER

FAITH, ADORATION, TRUST

WORDS OF THE SACRED HEART TO ST. MARGARET MARY

On June 6th, 1675

“Behold this Heart which has so loved men that It has spared nothing to testify Its love for them, even to the exhausting and consuming Itself for their sakes; but in return I receive from the generality of men nothing but ingratitude, through the contempt, irreverences, sacrileges, and coldness with which 1 am treated in the Sacrament of My love . . .

“What, however, afflicts Me most is that those who are consecrated to Me do Me this wrong.”

“Let us, therefore love God: because God has first loved us.” (1 John v. 19).

My heart is tired, so tired tonight,

How endless seems the strife!

Day after day the restlessness

Of all this weary life!

I come to lay my burden down,

That so oppresseth me,

And, shutting all the world without, To spend an hour with Thee, dear Lord, To spend an hour with THEE.

(The source is not known to the compiler.)

PRAYER

BEFORE THE PUBLIC HOLY HOUR

O Lord Jesus Christ, Who hast promised that wherever two or three shall be gathered together in Thy Name Thou wilt be there in the midst of them, look down with compassion and mercy and love upon us, who are now united before Thee in the lowliness of our hearts, to honour Thy Sacred Heart, and in the desire to make It known and loved by all.

Stay in the midst of us, O sweet Jesus, and fill our hearts with Thy blessings, and inflame them with Thy love. Amen.

FAITH

ACTS OF FAITH BEFORE THE BLESSED SACRAMENT

O Heart of Jesus! deign to grant me an increase of faith in Thee; a strong faith, to realise Thee; a loving faith, to appreciate Thee; a trusting faith, to turn to Thee in every want and every sorrow.

O Lord God of Glory, I believe in Thy Word; I believe, Lord help my unbelief

I believe in Thy presence on the Altar; etc.

Behind the whiteness of the Sacred Host I see the most beautiful of the sons of men;

I see Him in Whom the Father was well pleased;

I see the Son of God and the Son of Mary;

I see Jesus of the Loving Heart, whose love for us was unrequited.

I see the Man of Sorrows,

Who sweated blood for me.

Who was scourged, and crowned, and mocked for me,

Who was unjustly crucified, as if He were an imposter;

I see the King of Majesty and Glory;

O God of Truth,

I believe in Thy promise to help me, when I come to Thee in labour and heavy-burdened;

I believe, O God, in Thy Heart’s love, in Its prodigal, mysterious love, in Its mother-like, merciful love, in Its individual, infinite, God-like love, in Its wistful, unrequited love, in the burning love of Thy Sacred Heart,

LET US PRAY

Dearest Lord and Master, I believe in the love of Thy Sacred Heart, and would fain cherish It and honour It as It deserves. I believe, even as St. Peter and the Apostles believed, and like them I cry to Thee; “Lord, to whom shall we go but to Thee. Thou hast the words of eternal life. For we have known that Thou art the Christ, the Son of God.”

Lord, I believe: help my unbelief!

ASPIRATION BLESSED AND PRAISED EVERY MOMENT BE THE MOST HOLY AND MOST DIVINE SACRAMENT

ADORATION

A LITANY OF ADORATION

Jesus, Son of the Living God, O Jesus, my God, I adore Thee in the Sacrament of Thy love God of ages, etc.

God of glory,

God of pity,

God of mercy,

O Holy God,

O God, Most Beautiful and Priceless One.

O God, Most Glorious Uncreated One,

O God, Eternal Beatific One,

O God, O Infinite and Hidden One,

O God Immense, O God the Living One,

Thou Wisdom of Everlasting One,

Thou ever Loved and ever Loving One,

Jesus, God of Majesty, Jesus, King of Glory,

Jesus, Meek and Humble,

Jesus, God of the poor and lowly,

Jesus, God of the sorrowful,

Jesus, God of the lonely,

Jesus, God of all the living, O Jesus, my God, I adore Thee in the Sacrament of Thy love Jesus, our Lord, etc.

Jesus, our Judge,

Jesus, our Redeemer,

Jesus, Son of Mary,

Jesus, of the Loving Heart,

Jesus of the Unrequited Love,

PRAYER MAKE ME, O HOLY GOD, THY TREASURED ONE;

Make me, O Glorious Love, Thy precious one;

Make me, O Highest Good, Thy longing one;

Make me, O Blessed Light. Thy chosen one;

Make me, for evermore, Thy loving one.

ACT OF ADORATION

O Jesus, humbly kneeling in Thy presence, and united with all the faithful on earth and the Saints in Heaven, I adore

Thee, true God and true man, here present in the Holy Eucharist.

Grateful even to the very depth of my soul I love Thee with my whole heart, O Jesus, Who are infinitely perfect and infinitely lovable.

Enrich me with Thy grace, so that I may never in any way offend Thee; and. thus strengthened here on earth by Thy

Eucharistic Presence, may I merit to enjoy with Mary Thy eternal and blessed presence in Heaven.

TRUST AND RESIGNATION

May God’s Holy Will be Done

(Imitation of Christ, Bk. III, Ch. 17)

If Thou wilt have me to be in darkness, be Thou blessed; if Thou wilt have me be in light, be Thou blessed again.

If Thou vouchsafest to comfort me, be Thou blessed; and if it be Thy will that I be afflicted, be Thou always equally blessed.

Keep me from all sin, and I will fear neither death nor hell . . . So only Thou cast me not off for ever, nor blot me out of the book of life, no tribulation that ever befalls me will hurt, because in all things and always I place my trust in Thee, O Sacred Heart of Jesus.

ACT OF RESIGNATION

My God, I thank Thee for what Thou givest, I thank Thee for what Thou withholdest, and for what Thou takest away I thank Thee.

May Thy most holy and blessed Will be done by me, and through me and mine, always and at all times, for ever. Amen.

PRAYER TO DO THE WILL OF GOD

(IMITATION, BK. III, CH. 15)

Grant me, Most Kind Jesus, Thy grace, that it may abide with me, and labour with me, and persevere with me, to the end.

Grant me ever to will and to desire that which is most acceptable to Thee, and which pleaseth Thee best.

May Thy will be mine, and let my will always follow Thine, and agree perfectly with it.

Let me always will, and not will, the same with Thee; and let me not be able to will, or not to will, otherwise than Thou willest or willest not.

BLESSED ARE THE DEAD WHO DIE IN THE LORD

O my God, I must surely die, but know not when or how or where. This alone I know; that if I die in mortal sin I shall be lost for ever.

Most holy Virgin Mary, Holy Mother of God, pray for me a sinner, now and at the hour of my death. Amen.

ASPIRATION

May the most just, the most high, the most lovable Will of God be in all things done, praised, and magnified for ever. My Lord God, even now, resignedly, and willingly, I accept at Thy hand, with all its anxieties, pains, and sufferings, whatever kind of death it shall please Thee to be mine. Amen.

ACT OF CONFIDENCE

(St. Margaret Mary)

O Heart of Jesus, I place all my trust in Thee: for though I fear all things from my own weakness. I hope for all things from Thy mercy.

ACT OF TRUST

I believe in Thy knowledge of my weakness. I believe in Thy omnipotent power, and I believe in Thy Love; and therefore, O Sacred Heart of Jesus, I hope and trust in Thee.

ACT OF CONFIDENCE IN GOD

(By Blessed Pr, de la Colombiere, S.J.)

O sweet and tender Providence of my God; into Thy Hands I commend my spirit; to Thee I abandon my hopes and fears, my desires and repugnances, my temporal and eternal prospects. To Thee I commit the wants of my perishable body; to Thee I commit the more precious interests of my immortal soul. Though my faults are many, my misery great, my spiritual poverty extreme, my hope in Thee surpasses all.

Though temptations should assail me, I will hope in Thee; though I should break my resolutions. I will look to Thee confidently for grace to keep them at last. Though Thou shouldst kill me, even then I will trust in Thee; for Thou art my Father, my God, the support of my salvation. Thou art my kind, my tender and indulgent Parent, and I am Thy loving child. I put my trust in Thee, and so trusting, shall not be confounded. Amen.

PRAYER FOR CONFORMITY TO THE WILL OF GOD

O Lord Almighty, Who permittest evil, to draw good therefrom, hear our humble prayers, and grant that we remain faithful to Thee unto death. Grant us also, through the intercession of most holy Mary, the strength ever to conform ourselves to Thy most holy Will.

FEAR NOT! COME UNTO ME AND FEAR NOT!

Have I not sighed for thee—Wept for thee-died for thee?

Do I not live for thee? Fear not. Do I not watch o’er thee?

Do I not heed thee?

Dost thou not cling to Me

Cry to Me-need Me? Fear not. Mine Eye is upon thee—My arms around thee

To keep thee and guard thee

Now that I’ve found thee. Fear not. Trust in Me. Call to Me!

I am so near to thee!

Thy God and thy Father

Ah, how canst thou fear Me? Fear not. (Source not known to the compiler)

II. QUARTER PETITIONS

“Those who promote Dev otion to the Sacred Heart shall have their names written in that Divine Heart, never to be effaced . . .”

“He will never allow them to perish, He will be their assured refuge against all the snares of their enemies, and He will receive them lovingly unto HisHeart, making their salvation sure.”

(From the Writings of St. Margaret Mary.)

THE ANSWER IS SURE!

The time may be delayed, the manner unexpected, but the Answer is sure to come. Not a tear of sacred sorrow, not a breath of holy desire, poured out in prayer to God will be lost.

PRAYER OF PETITION

Jesus, my Lord God, Thou hast promised that “anything we ask the Father in Thy name He will give.” Relying on this promise, the promise of the God of Truth, we ask our Heavenly Father to-day for what we want. We ask it in the name of Thee, His only begotten Son, Jesus Christ, and the only condition we make is that it be for our good and Thy glory.

(Here mention what you most desire. Pray especially for the grace of a happy death.)

PRAYER FOR VOCATIONS

Dear Lord, the fields are white with the harvest and the labourers are very few. We beseech Thee to inspire young men with Zeal to labour for Thee, and Courage to deny themselves for Thee, and a Love that will lead them to leave home and father and mother for Thyname’s sake.

Sacred Heart of Jesus, send labourers to gather the Harvest!

ASPIRATION O LORD, SEND HOLY PRIESTS AND FERVENT RELIGIOUS TO THY CHURCH

A PRAYER FOR PRIESTS

O Jesus, eternal Priest, keep Thy holy ones within the shelter of Thy Sacred Heart, where none may harm them. Keep unstained their anointed hands, which daily touch Thy Sacred Body. Keep unsullied their lips, purpled with Thy Precious Blood. Keep, pure and unearthly their hearts sealed with the sublime marks of Thy glorious priesthood.

Bless their labours with abundant fruit, and may they to whom they have ministered be here below their joy and consolation, and in Heaven their everlasting crown. Amen.

* “I will give Priests the Power to touch the most hardened hearts.”

(Promise of the Sacred Heart)*

* The Promises of the Sacred Heart mentioned on these pages were revealed to St. Margaret Mary in favour of those who practise and promote Devotion to the Sacred Heart.

FOR THE NECESSARY GRACES

Thou knowest, O God, my weakness, that I am poor and destitute, that I cannot do, nor even think of any good without Thee.

Arise up then to help me; strengthen me with Thy grace, that I may fervently execute what I have firmly resolved, and not only avoid all the evil Thou forbiddest, but also perform all the good Thou commandest, through Jesus Christ, our Lord. Amen.

“I will give them all the graces necessary for their state in life.,”

(Promise of the Sacred Heart)

FOR BENEFACTORS

Vouchsafe, O Lord, to reward with eternal life all those who do us good for Thy Name’s sake. Amen.

PRAYER FOR MERCY

O Heart of Jesus, full of tenderest love and mercy for repentant sinners, we turn to Thee, as to an infinite ocean of mercy, for the forgiveness of our many and heinous sins.

Stand between us and the justice of our Heavenly Father, that in Thee and through Thee we may find in life, in death, and at the judgment seat, the mercy Thou hast purchased for us with Thy life-blood on the Hill of Calvary. Amen.

(Rev. Joseph McDonnell, S.J.)

“Sinners shall find in My Heart the source and infinite ocean of Mercy.” (Promise of the Sacred Heart)

O Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament, have mercy on us.

Sweetest Jesus, be to me not a judge but a Saviour.

PRAYER FOR PEACE

O Heart of Jesus, Who didst say of old to Thy Apostles, “My peace I leave you, My peace I give unto you,” give to us and to our families that “peace which the world cannot give,” that, sheltered from the storms that wreck so many homes, our families may live in peace, the “peace of God which passeth understanding.”

Give us peace, O Heart of Jesus, in our hearts, in our families, and in our homes. Amen. (Rev. Joseph McDonnell, S.J.)

“1 will give Peace in their families.”

(Promise of the Sacred Heart)

PRAYER IN TROUBLES AND AFFLICTIONS

O Heart of Jesus, riven with most bitter anguish in the Garden, and later, on the Cross on Calvary, come to my assistance when the waters of tribulation are let loose upon my soul.

When bitterness and disappointment fill my heart, when my mind is anguished or my body racked with pain, when my afflictions are almost more than I can bear, O then, dear Heart of Jesus, comfort and strengthen my poor lonely soul, and fill my heart with hope. Amen.

(Rev. Joseph McDonnell, S.J.)

“I will console them in all their troubles and afflictions.”

(Promise of the Sacred Heart)

PRAYER FOR THE CONVERSION OF SINNERS

O Lord Jesus, most merciful Saviour of the world, we beg and beseech Thee, through Thy most Sacred Heart, that all wandering sheep may now return to Thee, the Shepherd and Bishop of their souls. Who livest with God the Father and the Holy Spirit; God for ever and ever. Amen

PRAYER FOR ALL THE LIVING AND DEAD

O Most Sacred Heart of Jesus, pour down Thy blessings abundantly upon Thy Church, upon the Supreme Pontiff and upon all the Clergy. Give perseverance to the just, convert sinners; enlighten unbelievers; bless our parents, friends and benefactors; help the dying; free the souls in Purgatory, and ex-tend over all hearts the sweet empire of Thy love.

THE GREAT REQUEST

One special grace I ask of Thee, dear Heart of Jesus: the grace of a happy death.

If Thou give me this grace I shall be indifferent as to what Thou dost with me. Send me trials, disappointments, failure, misfortune, ill-health, the loss of my dearest friend, but in return give me the grace of a happy death, and I shall be well content. Amen.

“They shall find in My Heart an assured refuge during life, and especially at the hour of death.”

(Promise of the Sacred Heart)

PRAYER FOR MYSELF

My Lord and my God, Thou hast created me for Thyself: grant that I may realise that my true happiness lies in doing Thy Holy Will. Grant, too, that I may labour unto the end for Thy greater honour and glory. I beseech Thee also to allow no one to be damned through any word or act of mine.

Jesus, meek and humble of Heart, make my heart like unto Thine.

PRAYER FOR FRIENDS

Dear Jesus, I commend my friends to Thee (especially N.N.). Bless them, dear Lord. Give them grace to love and serve Thee always. Assist them to bear their trials. Help them in their temporal needs. Grant that we may be all united with Thee in Heaven.

. . .”I will pour abundant blessings on all their undertakings.”

(Promise of the Sacred Heart)

PRAYER FOR ENEMIES

If I have enemies, change their hearts towards me. I forgive them; and I beseech Thee, O Heart of Jesus, to pardon them the evil they have done, and to draw them to follow Thee.

PRAYER FOR ALL PRESENT

Sweet Heart of our God, deign to grant us all the grace to know Thee more clearly, to love Thee more dearly, and to follow Thee more nearly.

Bless, prosper, and protect us, and all dear to us, always; and give us a priest in our last hour.

“No one who is truly devout to the Sacred Heart will ever be lost.’

(Promise of the Sacred Heart)

PRAYER TO THE SACRED HEART

O Most Sacred Heart of Jesus! O fount of every good! I adore Thee, I love Thee, and I repent sincerely of my sins. I offer Thee my poor heart. Do Thou make it humble, patient, pure and in all things conformed to Thy will. Grant that I may live in Thee, and die for Thee. Protect me in dangers, console me in afflictions! grant me health of body, succour in my temporal needs, Thy blessing upon all my works, and the grace of a happy death.

CARDINAL NEWMAN’S PRAYER

May God support us all the day long, till the shades lengthen, and the evening comes, and the busy world is hushed, and the fever of life is over, and our work is done ! Then in His mercy, may He give us a safe lodging and a holy rest, and peace at the last!

PRAYER FOR THE LITTLE ONES O JESUS, FRIEND OF THE LITTLE ONES, BLESS THE CHILDREN OF THE WHOLE WORLD

PETITION FOR LIVING AND DEAD

O Divine Heart of Jesus, grant, we beseech Thee, eternal rest to the souls in Purgatory, the final grace of perseverance to those who shall die this day, true repentance to sinners. the light of faith to pagans, and Thy blessing to me and mine.

To Thee, most compassionate Heart of Jesus, I commend all these souls, and I offer to Thee on their behalf, all the merits of Thy most Holy Mother and of all saints and angels, and all the Sacrifices of the Holy Mass, and the Communions, prayers, good works, which shall be accomplished today throughout the Christian world.

PRAYER FOR THOSE IN THEIR AGONY

O most merciful Jesus, Lover of souls, I pray Thee by the Agony of Thy most Sacred Heart, and by the sorrows of Thy Immaculate Mother, to cleanse in Thy Blood the sinners of the whole world who are now in their agony, and who are about to die this day.

Heart of Jesus, once in agony, have mercy on the dying.

EJACULATION O GOD, THOU ART ALL POWERFUL, MAKE ME HOLY

St. Alphonsus Liguori.

PRAYER FOR A HAPPY DEATH

(Cardinal Newman)

O my Lord and Saviour, support me in my last hour by the strong arms of Thy Sacraments and the fragrance of Thy consolations.

Let Thy absolving words be said over me, and Thy Holy Oil sign and seal me; and let Thy Body be my food, and Thy Blood my sprinkling; and let Thy Holy Mother Mary come to me, and my Angel whisper peace to me, and Thy glorious saints and my own dear patrons smile on me, that in and through them all I may die as I desire to live, in Thy Church, in Thy Faith, and in Thy Love. Amen.

THE CHURCH’S PRAYERS FOR THE DEAD

O God, the Creator and Redeemer of all the faithful, give to the souls of Thy servants departed the remission of all their sins, that through pious supplications they may obtain the pardon they have always desired, Who livest and reignest world without end. Amen.

Eternal rest grant to them, O Lord,

And may perpetual light shine upon them, And may they rest in peace. Amen.

And may the souls of the faithful departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace. Amen.

We beseech Thee, O Lord, to help the souls in Purgatory whom Thou hast redeemed with Thy Precious Blood. Dear Lord Jesus, give them (or him) eternal rest.

ASPIRATION

Divine Heart of Jesus, convert sinners, save the dying, and set free the Holy Souls in Purgatory.

III. QUARTER

ATONEMENT

“The ingratitude of men afflicts Me more than all 1suffered in My Passion. If they did in some measure requite My love, I should count as nothing all I did for them, and if possible I would suffer still more for them; but they have nothing but coldness and rebuffs in return for all My eagerness to do them good . . .

“This love, forgotten and unregarded, asks for reparation.

“Do thou, at least, make Me atonement for men’s ingratitude as far as thou art able.”

(Words spoken by the Sacred Heart to St. Margaret Mary.)

CHRIST IN THE TABERNACLE I HAVE NOT SEEN YOUR FACE TODAY

Where were you?

A hundred others came to pray.

Where were you?

From out My prison I have gazed

At thousands who have, kneeling, praised.

I wanted you.

I wanted you -you did not come Where were you?

I waited there, in silence dumb. Where were you?

Ah! Could you not one moment spare, Ah! Surely you a little care!

I wanted you

You had not time -Ah! so you said. Where were you?

While My sad Heart in silence bled, Where were you?

Among your friends long hours you spent While I-My loving Heart was rent In solitude.

I do not like to be alone

I want you :

Much more than all the friends you own, I want you.

Tomorrow, you will surely come, Remember, I am helpless, dumb- Uncomforted.

ACT OF CONTRITION FROM THE IRISH

O God, forgive me for all the sins of my life:

The sins of my youth and the sins of my age,

The sins of my body and the sins of my soul,

The sins I have confessed and the sins I have forgotten,

My sins against others in thought, word and deed,

My sins of omission.

Oh, my God, I am very sorry for all my sins because You are so good : and I will not sin again with the help of God. God be merciful to me, a sinner!

ACTS OF SORROW FOR MY SHARE IN THY AGONY AND BLOODY SWEAT IN THE GARDEN, I AM SORRY, O JESUS

For my share in Thy Crucifixion, etc.

For my want of sympathy with Thee and Thy Blessed Mother, For my lukewarmness in Holy Communion,

For my neglect of Holy Mass,

For my irreverence in the church,

For all my ingratitude,

For my want of perfect trust,

For my indifference to Thy wonderful love,

For our sins of dishonesty, Forgive us, O Jesus

For our sins of uncharitableness, etc.

For our sins of drink,

For our sins of sacrilege,

For our sins of lust,

For all the outrages committed against Thee,

I love Thee, my Jesus, my love above all things, I repent with my whole heart for having offended Thee. Never permit me to be separated from Thee again. Grant that I may love Thee always, and then do with me what Thou wilt.

ACT OF AMENDMENT

O Jesus of the Loving Heart, what can I do to make amends to Thy unrequited Love? How can I repair the neglect and ingratitude of the misspent years? Deign to show me what Thou desirest of me. (Pause a moment, listen to Jesus; He will tell you what He wishes of you.)

I am weak and changeable, O Loving Jesus, but my heart is ready, and I beg Thee to accept my sincere desire to atone for the past and to make some return for all Thy tender mercies.

Act of Oblation, to be made before a Representation of the Sacred Heart My loving Jesus, out of the grateful love I bear Thee, and to make reparation for my unfaithfulness to grace, I (N.N.) give Thee my heart, and I consecrate myself wholly to Thee; and with Thy help I purpose never to sin again.

ACT OF ATONEMENT

O Jesus of the Loving Heart, we wish to make atonement for all our own ingratitude and, for the black ingratitude of mankind.

And we purpose for the future: to keep Thy commandments better, to please Thee more, to serve Thee always, and never to lose heart.

We purpose for the future : to avoid all sin as well as we can, to pray when we are tempted, to keep out of the occasions of sin, and never to lose heart.

We purpose for the future : to spread devotion to Thy Sacred Heart, as well as we can, and never to lose heart; to help others by our good example, and not to lead others into sin.

We purpose for the future: to frequent the Sacraments regularly, to visit Thee in the church very often, and to receive Thee in Holy Communion with loving homage.

But through all, and in spite of all. we purpose never to lose heart : in spite of our broken promises and imperfect service, in spite of our sins of wantonness and passion, in spite of the dishonour we have done Thee in the Sacrament of Thy love, we firmly purpose never to lose heart; but always to have an unshaken confidence in Thy patience with our weakness, in Thy mercy, and in Thy love. Amen.

ACT OF REPARATION (AFTER ST. GERTRUDE)

O Jesus of the Loving Heart, I give You thanks and bless You by the hearts of all rational beings, in reparation for all the blasphemies, for all the outrages; heaped upon You here on earth.

I bless You for every tear, for every sigh, for every sorrow You endured.

I bless You for every drop of Blood You shed in Your Passion, for every blow You got, for every grief You felt.

I bless You for every step You took along that road of suffering, for every time Your strength gave out.

I bless You for every act of virtue You performed in our behalf, for every longing You felt for our salvation, for every look of love You cast upon Your Blessed Mother and Your friends.

I bless You for every wound inflicted on You by the cruel scourges, for every thorn that pierced Your brow, for every time Your Sacred and Adorable Face was spat upon . . . for all these I bless and praise You.

All these blessings, multiplied a thousand-fold, I now offer You, my Saviour, and would fain renew them every instant of my life. Amen.

PRAYERS FOR SINNERS

“This Divine Heart is an inexhaustible fountain from which three streams flow un ceasingly. The first of these is mercy for sinners in whom the spirit of contrition and penance is excited.”

(Letters of St. Margaret Mary, III.)

“In revealing the goodness of His Heart, He wished to draw men from the abyss of perdition by appeasing the wrath of God and calling aloud for mercy on the sinner.”

(Life of St. Margaret Mary.)

PRAYER AT THE PUBLIC HOLY HOUR

O Lord, who camest to call not the just but sinners to repentance, touch the hearts of sinners with Thy grace, and bring them back in true repentance to Thy feet.

Spare, O Lord, spare Thy people, and be not angry with them for ever.

Spare, O Lord, spare Thy people, and be not angry with them for ever.

Spare, O Lord, spare Thy people, and be not angry with them for ever.

By Thy Agony and Bloody Sweat, O Jesus of the Loving Heart, have mercy

By the mockeries and humiliations of Thy Passion, etc.

By Thy Scourging,

By Thy Crowning with Thorns,

By Thy carrying of the Cross,

By Thy terrible loneliness,

By Thy bitter death,

By Thy Mother’s sorrow,

By Thy love for sinners,

O Father of Heaven, we beseech Thee not to allow Thy Beloved Son’s Blood to be spilled in vain but to hearken to His prayer for sinful men : “Father forgive them, for they know not what they do.”

Spare, O Lord, spare Thy people, and be not angry with them for ever.

Spare, O Lord, spare Thy people, and be not angry with them for ever.

Spare, O Lord, spare Thy people, and be not angry with them for ever.

(Here say three Hail Marys for the conversion of sinners.)

Holy Mary, Pray for us sinners Holy Mother of God, etc. Mother of Christ.

Refuge of sinners.

LET US PRAY

O God, Who hast said: “I will not the death of the sinner, but rather that he be converted and live” graciously accept the prayers, Masses, and Holy Communions of Thy faithful people, and grant the conversion and perseverence in grace of every sinner, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

ASPIRATIONS

O God, I offer Thee all the Masses that will be celebrated this day throughout the world, for sinners in their agony, and for those who are to die today.

May the Precious Blood of Jesus obtain for them Mercy.

IV. QUARTER

LOVE AND CONSECRATION

“I am consumed by a burning thirst to be loved by men in the Blessed Sacrament; but I find scarcely anyone who is inclined to fulfil My desire, and to make Me a return of love . . .

“If thou didst know how I thirst to be loved by men, thou wouldst spare nothing that this might be accomplished.” . . .

“I thirst with the desire of being loved.”

(Revelations of the Sacred Heart to St. Margaret Mary.)

HOW? AND WHY? YOU ASK ME HOW I GAVE

My heart to Christ

I do not know.

There came a yearning for Him

In my soul-so long ago.

I found earth’s flowerlets

Would fade and die—I wept for something

That could satisfy:

And then, and there-somehow

I seemed to dare

To lift my broken heart

To Him in prayer

I do not know.

I cannot tell you how;

I only know

He is my Saviour now.

You ask me why I thought

This loving Christ

Would hear my prayer.

I knew He died upon the cross

For me; I nailed Him there,

I heard His dying cry :

“Father forgive!”

I saw Him drink death’s cup

That I might live.

My head was bowed

Upon my breast-in shame

He called me,

And in penitence I came.

He heard my prayer,

I cannot tell you how,

Nor when-nor where, Why-I have told you now.

Sacred Heart of Jesus, I believe in Thy love for me.

LITANY FOR THE LOVE OF THE SACRED HEART JESUS IN THE MOST ADORABLE SACRAMENT, INFLAME MY HEART WITH LOVE OF THEE JESUS OF THE LOVING HEART, ETC

Sacred Heart of my Friend,

Heart of my Saviour,

Heart of my God.

Heart of the unrequited love,

Heart of the wistful love,

Because of Thy infinite lovableness,

Because of Thy sweetness and meekness,

Because of Thy goodness and mercy,

Because Thou knowest all about me, and likest me all the same. Because Thou hast done so much for me.

Because Thou askest so little in return, Inflame my heart with love of Thee Because of my past ingratitude, etc.

Because Thy love has met with coldness and rebuffs,

Because Thou wert wounded by my iniquities,

For the gift of Thy Body and Blood.

For Thy loving desire to be united to me,

For Thy wonderful condescension,

For the graces and blessings Thou showerest on me,

In spite of my insincerity and selfishness,

In spite of my coldness and fickleness,

In spite of my worthlessness.

Heart of Jesus, burning with love of me, Inflame my heart with love of Thee.

LET US PRAY

O Jesus of the Loving Heart, inflame my heart with love of Thee, so that I may love Thee in all, and through all and above all, and in spite of all. Help me to return love for love, so that my whole life may make reparation to the unrequited love of Thy Sacred Heart. Amen.

PRAYER FOR GENEROSITY

Dearest Lord, teach me to be generous. Teach me to serve Thee as Thou deservest To give and not to count the cost. To fight and not to heed the wounds. To toil and not to ask for rest. To labour and not to seek reward, save that of feeling that I do Thy will.

ASPIRATIONS

My God, grant that I may love Thee, and as the sole reward of my love, grant that I may ever love Thee more and more.

Sweet Heart of Jesus, be Thou my love.

Sacred Heart of Jesus, I believe in Thy love for me.

Glory, love, and gratitude, be to Thee, O Heart of Jesus.

O Sacred Heart of Jesus, be Thou known, be Thou loved, be Thou imitated.

SPIRITUAL COMMUNION

My heart is ready, O my Jesus, to receive Thee. Enter, and stay with me, for the day is far spent. Tribulation draws nigh and there is none to help, but if Thou art with me I shall not fear.

My Jesus, I love Thee with my whole heart, and I wish to live always united to Thee. As I cannot now receive Thee sacramentally, I receive Thee in spirit. Come then into my soul: come, O God of my heart; come and remain always with me.

O my Jesus, living in the Blessed Eucharist. come and live in my soul; reign over all my faculties; so that I may be able to say with Thine Apostle: “I live, yet not I, but Christ liveth in me.”

OBLATION

THE “SUME ET SUSCIPE” OF ST. IGNATIUS

Take, O Lord, and receive my whole liberty, my memory, my understanding, and my will. Whatever I have and possess Thou hast given me. To Thee, O Lord, I restore them. They are all Thine; dispose of them according to Thy will. Give me only Thy love and Thy grace, and that is enough for me.

“He asked me, after Holy Communion, to repeat the Sacrifice to Him that I had already made of my liberty and my whole being.”

(St. Margaret Mary, “Memoir,” Vol. 11.)

NIGHT OFFERING TO JESUS IN THE BLESSED SACRAMENT

O Divine Jesus, alone tonight in so many tabernacles, without a visitor or worshipper, I offer Thee my lonely heart.

May its every pulsation be a prayer of love to Thee.

Thou art ever watching under the sacramental veils; in Thy love Thou never sleepest, and Thou are never weary of Thy vigil for sinners.

O Sweet Jesus, O Holy Jesus! may my heart be a lamp, the light of which shall burn for Thee alone. O Sacrament most holy, Sacrament divine, all praise and all thanksgiving be every moment Thine.

THE MORNING OFFERING

O Jesus, through the most pure Heart of Mary, I offer Thee the prayers, works, joys and sufferings of this day for all the intentions of Thy Divine Heart.

Act of Consecration of Oneself to the Sacred Heart* My most beloved Jesus, I consecrate myself again today and without reserve to Thy Divine Heart.

*PROMISE OF SALVATION REVEALED TO SAINT MARGARET MARY “He then assured me that the pleasure He takes in being loved, known, and honoured by His creatures is so great, that

He promised me that no one who has specially dedicated and consecrated himself to Him will ever perish.” I consecrate to Thee my body, with all its senses, my soul with all its faculties, and my whole being entirely. I consecrate to Thee all my thoughts, words and actions, all my sufferings and labours, all my hopes and all my joys; and above all I consecrate to Thee my poor heart, in order that it may love only Thee, and may be consumed as a victim in the fire of Thy love.

Accept, O Jesus, my most sweet spouse, the desire that I have to console Thy Divine Heart, and to be Thine for ever. Take possession of me in such a manner, that from henceforth I may have no other liberty than that of loving Thee, nor other life than that of suffering and of dying for Thee.

I place in Thee unlimited trust, and hope from Thine infinite mercy for the pardon of all my sins, I place in Thy hands all my cares, especially that of my eternal salvation.

I promise to love Thee and to honour Thee to the last moment of my life, and to propagate, as much as I am able, devotion to Thy Sacred Heart.

Dispose of me according to Thy good pleasure. I have no other award than Thy greater glory and Thy holy love.

Grant me the grace to set up my dwelling place in Thy Divine Heart, where I desire to pass every day of my life, and where I desire to breathe my last breath.

Set up in my heart Thy abode, the chosen spot for Thy repose, so that we may remain ever closely united; thus may I one day be able to praise, love, and possess Thee for all eternity on high in Heaven, where I will sing for ever the infinite mercy of Thy most Sacred Heart.

A SHORT ACT OF CONSECRATION

Heart of my God, I consecrate myself and all I love to Thee.

Give us, O sweet and loving Heart, a great love of Thee, and a zeal for all that concerns Thee, so that we may labour for Thy glory and serve Thee well.

O Jesus of the Loving Heart, guard us from evil and cherish us as Thy own until the time comes to go to Thee for ever.

Amen.

A PRAYER TO THE SACRED HEART

O Heart of Jesus! deign to grant me an increase of faith in Thee; a strong faith, to realise Thee; a loving faith, to appreciate Thee; a trusting faith, to turn to Thee in every want and every sorrow.

O Loving Heart, I commend to Thee my thoughts, words, and works, that Thou mayest inspire and guide them; my affections, intentions, and desires, that Thou mayest purify and direct them; my dearly-bought soul, that Thou mayest sanctify and save it; my last sigh, that Thou mayest receive it united to Thy own. Amen.

CONSECRATION OF HOMES TO THE SACRED HEART

Humbly kneeling at Thy feet, loving Heart of our God, we consecrate our home and every one in it and all its interests to Thee.

We beseech Thee to bless us one and all. and to keep us in Thy love. Prosper our undertakings as far as it is for our good and for Thy glory; comfort us in our afflictions; fill our hearts with Thy peace, and guard us from every kind of evil.

May our lives honour Thee, and may death find us unafraid. Amen.

ACT OF CONSECRATION OF FAMILIES TO THE SACRED HEART Sacred Heart of Jesus, Who didst manifest to St. Margaret Mary the desire of reigning in Christian Families, we today wish to proclaim Thy most complete regal dominion over our own. We would live in future with Thy life, we would cause to flourish in our midst those virtues to which Thou hast promised peace here below, we would banish far from us the spirit of the world which Thou hast cursed; and Thou shalt reign over our minds in the simplicity of faith, and over our hearts by the whole-hearted love with which they shall burn for Thee, the flame of which we shall keep alive by the frequent reception of Thy divine Eucharist.

Deign, O Divine Heart, to preside over our assemblings, to bless our enterprises, both spiritual and temporal, to dispel our cares, to sanctify our joys, to alleviate our sufferings. If ever one or other of us should have the misfortune to afflict Thee, remind him, O Heart of Jesus, that Thou art good and merciful to the penitent sinner. And when the hour of separation strikes, when death shall come to cast mourning into our midst, we will all, both those who go and those who stay, be submissive to Thy eternal decrees. We will console ourselves with the thought that a day will come when the entire family, reunited in Heaven, can sing for ever Thy glories and Thy mercies.

May the Immaculate Heart of Mary, and the glorious Patriarch, St. Joseph, present this consecration to Thee, and keep it in our minds all the days of our life. All glory to the Heart of Jesus, our King and our Father.

Nihil Obstat:

CAROLUS DOYLE. S.J. . Cens. Theol. Dep.

Imprimi potest:

@ EDUARDUS

Archiep. Dublinen. Hiberniae Primas, Dublini: die 12 Aprilis, 1931. ********

Angels And Devils

REV. DR. L. RUMBLE, M.S.C

INDEX

I have been asked to write a few words about the angels. Now I can well imagine the rush of questions that flood your mind the moment you hear any mention of angels. Do such beings exist? Who are they? What are they like? Where do they come from? What do they do? But be patient. Those are the very questions I will try to answer for you.

DO THEY EXIST?

Firstly are there any angels? There was a time, of course, when people believed that angels stood with flaming swords at the gates of the Garden of Eden, when our first parents, Adam and Eve, were banished from Paradise. But that’s surely a little out of date, you may say. Today the angels are banished. Men don’t believe in them any more.

Yet just a minute. What men think, or don’t think, is not very important in this matter. What is important are the reasons for the opinions they adopt. And there are absolutely no reasons for refusing to believe in the existence of angels. It is true that angels are invisible beings. But God Himself is an invisible Being, and that is no argument against His existence. Not the man who believes in angels is deceived, but those people are deceived by their senses who think only visible and material things exist.

There is every reason to believe that the order in creation sweeps through from blind matter to living vegetation, sensitive animal life, on to rational man, half-material and half-spiritual and on yet again to pure disembodied intelligent and spiritual beings called angels.

Why suppose -and it is only supposition-that we human beings are the only intelligent creatures in the universe-that created intelligence suddenly stops with the feeble triumph of man? Our intelligence is fearfully limited and stammering. Where is perfect mind, pure intelligence unfettered by matter? Is it absent from creation? There is no known reason why intelligence should need a material chemical body. Disembodied intelligence is likelier than not.

REVEALED TRUTH

But, whatever our speculations, the question of the existence of angels is settled for all who believe in the Bible. We know by divine revelation that God did create spiritual beings, endowed with intelligence and freewill. The Old Testament tells us,in the Book of Daniel, that thousands upon thousands of angels minister in the name of God, and that “ten thousand times a hundred thousand stand before Him.

In the New Testament we read that angels announced to the shepherds the birth of Christ in Bethlehem; that they ministered to Him at the time of His temptation in the desert; that they strengthened Him during His sufferings in the Garden of Gethsemane; and that they appeared at His tomb on the morning of the resurrection to declare the glad news, “He is not here. He is risen as He said.”

Of Our Lord’s own direct teaching, we know that the Pharisees and Sad ducees disagreed as to whether angels existed, and that Jesus supported the Pharisees who believed in them, not the Sadducees who denied them. He declared that the angels rejoice over sinners who repent. He forbade the giving of bad example to little children, warning us that “their angels” are as present to God as to them, and that they will not view with indifference the scandalous corruption of innocent souls. And He further predicted that the angels will accompany Him on that Last Day, when He comes to judge the living and the dead.

It is impossible, then, to reject belief in the angels, without rejecting belief in the Old and New Testaments, and in the authority of Jesus Christ Himself.

WHAT IS AN ANGEL?

But granted that angels exist, we are led to the question, “What is an angel?” The reply must be that an angel is a created spiritual essence. Being created, angels are as dependent upon God for their existence as any other creatures. They have only a borrowed and limited perfection. But they are more perfect than human beings. Man was made, according to Holy Scripture, “a little lower than the angels.” Angels are purely spiritual beings, intermediate between the Supreme Spirit, God, and those spirits immersed in material bodies which are known as human souls.

Like our own souls, angels are immortal, intelligent, and endowed with freewill, but adapted to a higher plane or dimension than ours. The Bible mentions nine orders or companies of them, the Cherubs, Seraphs, Thrones, Dominations, Principalities, Powers, Virtues, Archangels and Angels. And to four of the Archangels names are given, Michael, Gabriel, Raphael, and Lucifer, who fell into sin and made himself into a devil, of whom we shall say more in a moment.

What is an angel like? That we cannot imagine. We inferior beings think in terms of ourselves, and cannot help imagining a bodily appearance for all other persons. It is almost as useless for us to ask what an angel is like as it is for a man who has never had the gift of sight to ask what colour is like. Angels are purely spiritual beings. They have no material bodies-no inside and outside, no arms, no legs, nothing that could fall out, or come loose, or be cut off. Pictures of them, like Christmas-card angels, are only symbolic. They are represented in human form merely to show that they are persons; and they are given wings to symbolize lightness and swiftness.

ANGELIC HISTORY

With the history of the angels I have no space to deal at any length, though it makes a fascinating story. Like all history, of course, it had a beginning. There was a time when no angels existed. The Bible tells us that they were certainly created before man. They may have been created before anything of this universe existed at all, though St. Thomas Aquinas gave it as his opinion that they were created at the same time as the initial stages of the material world around us. But he himself would not have called that more than a conjecture.

We are on surer ground when we come to a discussion of their duties, for Holy Scripture indicates many interests assigned to them. First and foremost comes the supreme duty of all creatures, the adoration and worship of God for His infinite perfection in Himself. Then, we are told, the angels are agents of God’s Providence in the control of the whole of lesser creation. Often they are employed as messengers between God and man. To each human being an angel is assigned as a particular friend and guardian. The angels, too, are described in Holy Scripture as offering our prayers before the Throne of God; as bearing the souls of the departed to their place of rest; and as witnesses of the conduct of men that they may later be witnesses also at our judgement-please God, to plead in our favour at that critical moment.

Such, briefly, and in general, is Christian teaching about the angels, and about their place in God’s plan of creation. But I have promised to go a little more deeply into the question of the angels who rebelled against God and made themselves into devils.

BELIEF IN THE DEVIL

Now I am well aware that good angels are much more likely to be popular than bad angels or devils. And as people are prone to deny the existence of what they would not like to be true, so unbelief in the devil is very widespread today. People say that it’s a little out of date, in these enlightened days, to talk of the devil. It is not really out of date. It is only that people are more ignorant of the truth. Science, of course, does not even pretend that it can disprove the existence of devils. And, as a matter of fact, it is no more difficult to believe that evil spirits exist than that evil men exist. If you can have a wicked spirit in a body, you can have a wicked spirit without a body. And observant people know that evil spirits are as active as ever. There is very definite evidence of an organized kingdom of spiritual evil.

In his book, “The Problem of Pain,” Mr. C. S. Lewis, at present Professor of English Literature in Oxford Univer sity, anticipates the objections of Unbelievers by writing as follows: “Do you really mean, at this time of day, to re-introduce our old friend the devil, hoofs and horns and all?” Well, what the time of day has to do with it, I don’t know. And I’m not particular about the hoofs and horns. But in other respects my answer is “Yes. I do.” I don’t claim to know anything about his personal appearance. If anybody really wants to know him better, I’d say to that person, “Don’t worry. If you really want to, you will. Whether you’ll like it when you do is another question.”

ACTUAL EVIDENCE

But let us turn to actual evidence. Are there devils, quite apart from all our likes and dislikes? Both divine revelation and human experience insist that there are. Satan and his horde of evil spirits are terrible realities.

In the New Testament we read of the temptation of Christ by the devil; and Jesus Himself spoke again and again of the reality of the devil. He declared that He saw Satan “falling like lightning from heaven.” He spoke of Satan as “the evil one”; attributed to Satan’s influence many of the mental andbodily diseases of men; warned St. Peter, “Satan has desired to have you to sift you like wheat”; told the Pharisees, “You are of your father the devil, and the desires of your father you will do. He was a murderer from the beginning,” and He warned us all that Satan would engage in the sowing of tares and cockle as fast as we ourselves try to sow the good seed of Christian virtue and holiness.

The doctrine of the Apostles was the same as that of their Master. St. Peter exclaimed to Ananias, “Why hath Satan entered thy heart to lie?”; whilst St. Paul speaks of the wiles and snares of the devil, telling us that our wrestling is with evil spirits, rulers of the world of darkness.

HUMAN EXPERIENCE

But let us leave this teaching of Holy Scripture, and turn to the realm of our own experience. Take the world as it is today. It is incredibly beautiful, but bits of it are very ugly. And experience certainly suggests that much of the evil in it comes from outside us. It has been fashionable to think of the devils as personifications of man’s own evil nature rather than as independent evil personalities. But there is no justification for believing men to be so evil. They are not wholly responsible for the terrible story of selfishness, pride, lust, covetousness and cruelty which history unfolds. The more we study history, the more we are shaken in any idea that men alone could be responsible for all the physical and moral disasters that have come upon the human race.

In our own days we have seen nations moving towards situations in which wars, which the peoples themselves do not want, have become unavoidable. And these wars have brought with them outbreaks of cold-blooded monstrous cruelty, which seem so obviously fiendish. Men did not seem to be themselves. There was a malignancy at work which was not human. And, particularly when we detect a diabolical hatred of religion, and of all to do with God, we recognize the influence of demonic forces. All points to an evil power at work in the world which is not that of God, and which instigates and abets wickedness in men, or which uses their stupidity for its own purposes.

But apart from world disasters, there are innumerable individual cases of devil-possession, well authenticated, in which the facts are beyond doubt. And spiritual remedies have availed to deliver these poor people from their affliction, where doctors could do nothing.

For that matter, we all have our own temptations. Evil suggestions enter our minds. We may never have thought of such things before, and may hate having such thoughts. But they come, all the same; and are very hard to drive away. They come from outside us, just as suggestions put into our minds by other people. If good impulses come from God, why not evil impulses from evil spirits? Remember that evil is the result of an evil will, just as good is the fruit of a good will. There cannot be impersonal evil any more than impersonal good. Behind much of the evil of the world, suggesting it, influencing it, directing it, disguising it, there is the personality of the devil, and of his fellow evil spirits.

WHY CREATE DEVILS?

I know the question that these thoughts provoke in your minds. Why on earth did God create the devils? The answer is that He did not-at least, not as devils. He created them as angels, good, and entrancingly lovely, of their very nature.

But, being endowed with intelligence and freewill, they themselves had to use their power of choice in the right way rather than in the wrong way. Trial is inevitable for all free beings, even for angels. And Scripture tells us that some of the angels used their power of choice in opposition to God’s Holy Will. We are told that Lucifer, intoxicated as it were by his own perfections, said within himself, “I will be like unto the Most High.” How he could think that, or what was the oc- casion of it, we do not know. But we are told that there was war in heaven, that the good angels led by Michael the Archangel hurled Lucifer and his supporters from heaven, and that “God spared not the angels who fell.” Lucifer became Satan, the Adversary; and his followers devils, or slanderers, and destroyers.

Fundamentally, the choice was one of life with God, or life without God. The angels who fell chose life without God, and found themselves condemned eternally to hell.

Unfortunately, as it might seem to us, their condemnation to hell did not make it impossible for them to vent their hatred of God upon mankind, tempting men to share in their revolt. And we must say something of their efforts to dislocate God’s plan of love and peace and happiness for us.

TEMPTATIONS

The devil, and his horde of evil spirits, seek ever to dishonour God and injure humanity by labouring to corrupt human souls.

From the very beginning of the human race, Satan has wanted to make men rush, like the Gadarene swine, to their own destruction. “By the envy of the devil,” Holy Scripture tells us, “death entered into the world.” And St. Peter warns us, “Your adversary the devil goes about as a roaring lion, seeking whom he may devour.” The explanation of such animosity against us is not far to seek. A being who is evil uses even good powers for evil. Having fallen, the wicked want others to fall.

That the devil does tempt us is an essential teaching of the Christian religion. We do not say that all our temptations come from him. There is no need to make the devil responsible for sins which are purely the product of our own selfish passions. Why should he bother providing evil when he sees us looking for it ourselves? But, all the same, Satan works with unspeakable cunning in a thousand ways, directly and indirectly, for the ruin of our souls.

THE DEVIL’S METHODS

He waits for circumstances in which he knows we will be weak. He enters into the current of our evil inclinations, into the smiling appeal of seductive pleasures. He inspires others with thoughts that work for our loss also. He makes use of appropriate external circumstances, bad company, suggestive books, all kinds of superstitions-anything to occasion temptations. People take up spiritualism, and begin playing with spirits, only to find evil spirits taking possession of them. And with the wisdom of an archangel, Satan makes people believe that his way is the way of their real selves-that they are really doing what they want to do, and that they are not doing the devil’s will at all.

Holy Scripture tells us that the devil can disguise himself as an angel of light. We are not always conscious of his activity, by any means. His influence is often like that of a poison gas, breathed in imperceptibly with the air.

NOT ALL-POWERFUL!

It is a consolation to know, however, that the power of the devil is not unlimited. He is not a rival god, omnipresent and omnipotent. Ever he is a creature, with the limitations of a creature. He cannot work miracles, real ones; even though he can do wonders beyond merely human powers. Moreover, his influence has been greatly restricted by the birth of Christ into this world; and the waters of baptism still further diminish his power over Christian souls. Nor can he do us any moral and spiritual harm except by our own will and deliberate consent. But there is no room for presumption on our part. Our will is weak, as we know only too well; and it ever remains true that the devil is stronger and cleverer than we.

Do not imagine from all this, however, that there is anything like a one-sided struggle between human beings and evil spirits. Always keep in mind that the good angels are far from looking on passively and with indifference to all the issues at stake.

What is happening is a tremendous conflict of spiritual forces, good and evil angels perpetually at war, until the final victory of God. And we are accounted worthy to take part in a struggle which brings us into communion with the whole world of good spirits, and their interests. Moreover, Holy Scripture testifies to the fact that each one of us has a good angel as friend, protector, and guardian, preserving us from evil, inspiring noble thoughts and generous desires, and doing all possible to counteract the efforts of our spiritual enemies.

OUR GUARDIAN ANGELS

Speaking of children, Jesus said, “Their angels always see the face of My Father in heaven.” And there is no reason whatever why angels, appointed to guard little children, should desert their charges in later years when temptations have become stronger and more dangerous.

We all have guardian angels, spiritual beings who are ever active on our behalf without our seeing them, agents of God’s love and mercy, and of His care for us. And don’t think that your guardian angel is not deeply interested in you, and in all you do, or in all that happens to you. Our guardian angels are not cold, clammy, impersonal creatures. They have a profound understanding of us, and most generous dispositions of will towards us. The angel who consoled Our Lord during His agony in the Garden of Gethsemane was capable of indescribable sympathy. The joyous song of the angels at Our Lord’s birth shows their ability to share in our human happiness. Our guardian angels must be willing to help us. And equally they are able to do so.

You will not find in the Bible anything pretty or effeminate about the angels. Our heavenly guardians are holy, and strong, and terrible; holy, because God is Holy; strong with the strength God gives them to order the circumstances of our lives in ways we could not foresee; terrible to the enemies of our soul, even as it will be a terrible thing for those enemies to fall into the hands of the Living God.

SUPERSTITIOUS UNBELIEVERS

People who have drifted from the Christian religion believe none of these things. They have given themselves up to materialism, slamming shut the door against the spiritual world, and declaiming loudly that talk of guardian angels is but a childish fantasy, like believing in ghosts or in Santa Claus; that science has debunked such doctrines; and that no intelligent person today believes in them. They are not telling the truth. The march of modern science cannot touch the question of spiritual personalities. They are beyond the range of sense-perception. And tens of thousands of intelligent persons do believe in their guardian angels. Meantime those who deny the existence of devils and angels feel the need of inventing thousands of both classes for themselves, and speak of their “squander-bugs” and “litter-bugs” and “gremlins”; and they carry mascots and charms and other lucky tokens which they imagine to have some protecting influence over them. Or they give themselves up to astrology, and invoke the stars and planets! They should be the last in the world to speak of make-believe. And their opinions afford no reason for hesitancy in dragging out our guardian angels in public, and openly professing our belief in them, and reliance upon them.

Let us remember sensibly that man stands neither at the bottom, nor at the top of creation. He may be superior to stones, and vegetables and animals. But amongst intelligent creatures he stands on the lowest rung of the ladder. He has been made a little lower than the angels. He has a less perfect grade of intelligence than theirs. And he needs their help.

To think otherwise is to be disarmed for the spiritual struggle; it is to insult Christ Our Lord who, as God, knows our condition in this world, and our need of the assistance our guardian angels can render us; and it is to depart from the Christian tradition maintained unfalteringly through all the ages by the Eastern and Western Churches alike.

A VITAL DOCTRINE

As a matter of fact, this Christian teaching about the angels is of vital importance for our spiritual lives. We all tend to narrow down religion to this small planet and its petty interests. It is almost second nature for us to live by our senses only, and to behave as if God’s creation stopped short with the material and human world. To say that the world was “made for man” only too easily yields place to the poor and quite erroneous notion that man was made for this material world, and for nothing beyond it.

But the doctrine of the angels widens our horizon, and invites us to lift up our eyes and our hearts. It bids us rise above the earthly tumults and miseries which so easily obsess us. It tells us that religion, at its full span, goes beyond all merely temporal and passing interests, beyond even our own self-love; and that the soul of religion is essentially the worship and adoration of God-that primary duty of both angels and men.

CHRISTIAN PRIVILEGES

Our belief in the angels should, indeed, be a source of immense consolation to us. We are not entombed in a closed world, from which there will never be any possibility of escape. The stone of the sepulchre in which materialists say we are buried is rolled away. Our knowledge of the angels assures us that we are a part, and only a very small imperfect part, of a great and varied company of spirits filling the universe, and making it the living organ of God’s praise. Yet, whilst the angels are intelligences with powers of which we can scarcely conceive, the assurance of Holy Scripture that we are made “a little lower than the angels” is given us, not so much as a motive of humility, but as an encouragement and consolation. We are made immeasurably higher than any other beings on the face of the earth. Our souls are of the spirit-world. We have affiliations and responsibilities beyond the farthest reaches of the material universe. And it is the greatest of our privileges that with the angels, and all the company of heaven, we praise and magnify God’s Holy Name. How good it is for us sometimes to think of the unknown splendours and mighty inhabitants of that supernatural world which enfolds and penetrates us, trying to breathe the same bracing air!

SPIRIT OF THE CHURCH

All these things the Church does her utmost to keep before us in her incomparable liturgy. In the Mass and the Divine Office she bids us celebrate the Feasts of St. Michael, of St. Gabriel, and of St. Raphael, the glorious Archangels whose names have been revealed to us in the pages of Holy Scripture. In her Litany of the Saints she appeals to “all holy Angels and Archangels,” to “all holy orders of blessed spirits,” to intercede with God on our behalf. Aware that we are called to take part in that immense conflict of good and evil spirits ranging from heaven to hell, she prays after Mass, in words familiar to every Catholic, “Blessed Michael the Archangel, defend us in the hour of conflict. Be our safeguard against the wickedness and the snares of the devil. May God restrain him, we humbly pray; and do thou, 0 Prince of the heavenly host, by the power of God, thrust Satan down to hell, and with him the other wicked spirits who wander through the world for the ruin of souls.” Nor does she forget those good spirits appointed to watch over us and protect us. In the Mass for the Feast of the Guardian Angels she prays, “0 God Who, in Thine unspeakable providence, dost vouchsafe to send Thy holy angels to keep watch over us: grant to us Thy suppliants that we may always be shielded by their protection, and may rejoice in their company in eternity. Through Christ Our Lord. Amen.” But if we are to be in the company of the angels for all eternity surely we should try to be familiar with them now, and seek their help, not arriving in their midst as complete strangers to them, never having known them, never having loved them, never having blended our voices with theirs and theirs with our own in the praise and worship of God.

THREEFOLD DUTY

If angels are appointed by God to care for us, we must have some reciprocal duties towards them. And St. Bernard sums up our duties by declaring that we owe them reverence for their presence, love for their interest in us, and confidence in their protection. They are present to us, whether we are thinking of them or not. If people say they do not believe in the existence of the angels, that makes no difference to the existence of angels. They go on existing, and go on caring even for the incredulous so long as those incredulous people still live on in this world, And they save many a soul whom we, blind and impatient as we are, might believe to have been lost forever. But we, who are not incredulous, who do believe in the angels, should try to be more mindful of their presence than we are. For theirs is not a passive presence. They never weary in their efforts to enlighten us, to warn us, to move us to sorrow for sin, and to hunger for God. And we would be more aware of their influence upon our minds and hearts if only we adverted to their presence more than we do. We would be more grateful to them, and more ready to invoke their further aid with a trust and confidence which would banish many of our fears, and fill us with consolation whatever the afflictions and trials we might have to endure.

All that I have said may seem to require of us a good deal of childlike simplicity. But if so, it is demanding no more of us than Christ Himself declared to be absolutely necessary for our salvation. He never suggests that it is necessarily the most efficient, intelligent, or most self-sufficient person who is most pleasing to God, or most fit for eternal life. That is one of the foolish illusions of the natural man. With Our Lord, the thing that counts is a sense of total dependence on God. He tells us that we must all become as little children. The typical Christian for Him would be the small helpless child at the baptismal font, not the learned and possibly vain-glorious philosopher or theologian. His thoughts are not our thoughts, nor our ways His. Far better to go lame and blind into heaven than to be very capable and clear-sighted and sure of yourself-and end up on the rubbishheap! “I give Thee thanks, Father,” He once said, “because Thou hast hidden these things from the wise and prudent, and hast revealed them to little ones.” We must all become as little children; not childish, of course, but childlike. And if, as Our Lord declared, our Angels always see the face of Our Father in heaven, then to think of our Angels, and to love them, and to rely upon them, asking their protection and prayers, must be of the greatest assistance towards our own attaining some day to that same everlasting and beatific Vision of God.

Nihil obstat:

D.P. MURPHY,

Censor Deputatus. lmprimatur:

@ DANIEL MANNIX,

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis.

********

Anglican Claims And The Old Religion

BY D. G. M. JACKSON

INDEX

CHAPTER I

THE ANGLICAN “CONTINUITY” THEORY

Australia is the newest of new worlds: but her people are deeply aware -and, in general, proud-of their links with a mother country of ancient tradition. They owe allegiance to a monarchy which is older than any hereditary Kingship now in Europe: they have Parliamentary institutions which are patterned on the Parliamentary Constitution of England, which has grown up through centuries of development, without any radical breach with past history. Our law is English law, which has evolved continuously in the same fashion.

The patriotic Australian, like the patriotic Englishman, though he may be a radical, is not a “revolutionary” in the sense of wishing to destroy this inherited bond with the past. He believes that there is something very valuable in the continuity of a system which preserves the ancient essential loyalties, while it is still flexible to the requirements of a changing world. The example of other Western countries shows him that a working community organisation of this kind cannot be created artificially: that the habit of legality, of universal allegiance to a political system and readiness to act within its framework, is a root of freedom which cannot be pulled up with impunity

It may well be that the rushing tide of revolutionary change in our own time will impose a strain to which even British adaptability will prove unequal at last: but, so far, the essential structure has survived even the fury of war which spread death and destruction through the homeland and changed the shape of our own Australian world. The imposing facade of the free British system still stands in a world shaken with war and revolution: its peoples confess proudly the solidarity of their institution with those existing through a history of splendid achievement.

ANGLICAN CONSERVATISM

This reflection on the English outlook is necessary if we are to understand certain claims made on behalf of the Anglican Church-the Church which has been the chief vehicle of Christian tradition in England since the seventeenth century; and which is regarded, even today, as expressing most fully the religious viewpoint of the English and their daughter-nations. These peoples love to think of themselves as the political inheritors of Magna Carta, of the rights secured by the 17th century Revolution, and gradually extended to all classes by the series of Reform Acts which began in 1832. They tend to ignore the fact that there are certain points at which the “natural” development was modified by quite violent changes, and that there are distinct cracks which have been neatly patched over by the Whig historians and lawyers.

It is the same desire for solidarity with the past which leads adherents of the Church officially “Established” in England to attach some importance to the claim of “continuity” in the sphere of religious tradition. The Anglican likes to believe that the ancient parish churches and cathedrals of England are truly his own: that the Anglican Bishops are true and lawful successors of the old English hierarchy who sat in the thrones of St. Augustine, St. Cuthbert, St. Chad and the other holy founders who first brought the Gospel to the Angles and Saxons. In order to do so, however, it is necessary to “reinterpret” the greatest revolution, of all the English nation’s history-the English Reformation.

“RAGS OF POPERY”

This claim to traditional “legitimacy” has been assisted by the fact that the outward organisation of the new Church establishment in the 16thcentury retained a good deal of the ecclesiastical “machinery” of the past. The former names of high Church officers were retained-they occupied the ancient Sees and used the ancient symbols. The new service book in English adorned with the dignity and splendour of Cranmer’s prose-incorporated traditional elements largely, while purging out the Catholic teachings denied by the Reformers. The festivals of the old religion were mostly retained, and the saints were celebrated, if no longer prayed to. Indeed, the lack of logic in the new Prayer Book is to be attributed chiefly to the desire to retain ancient words and uses-we see revolution and tradition mingled in the strangest fashion in the address to the Communicant, which combined two sentences drawn up to express conflicting doctrines.

These “Rags of Popery” in Church of England rites were pleasing to Queen Elizabeth, but exasperating to the stern Puritans, whose inspiration came from Calvinist Geneva. Their spirit was that of the fierce and implacable Scot, John Knox, who said, “burn the rookeries (monasteries) and the rooks will fly out,” and who cared as little for the tradition of the Middle Ages, as the Bolsheviks for that of the Holy Russia of the Czars. I intend to show, in the course of this study, how absolute and complete the spiritual breach with the past has been in English religion, despite elaborate official pretences of legal continuity: but it is important to realise the real desire for legitimacy which lies behind the zealot’s attempts to deny the radical cleavage.

“MODERN ROMANISM”

We must also understand the re action of the Anglican, both English and Australian, to what he calls “Modern Romanism”-and his denunciation of it as an intruder and stranger, despite the Papal origins of English Christianity, and the long ages of English loyalty to the See of Peter. Forthe “Second Spring” of Catholicism in England has not been due to the work of the tiny remnant which preserved the traditional Faith through the darkness of the 18th century; it began through the influx of a new Irish population, combined with the enthusiasm of a group of converts, who derived much of their inspiration from abroad. The development of ideas, doctrine and organisation in the Catholic Church since the 16th century has gone on outside the life of England: there is much that is strange and new, without connection with historic English Catholicism. The new Catholic hierarchs were not allowed to assert their claim to the English heritage by using the old Catholic episcopal titles. There are new religious Orders, too-Jesuits, Redemptorists, Passionists, and many others, who played no part in old England. Even the liturgy has been modified-the old English “Uses” of Sarum, Lincoln and the rest having been suppressed in favour of the Roman Missal now used uniformly in the Latin West. Irish descended priests-Irish descended parishioners, with a sprinkling of converts-Roman liturgy. “What,” asks the English or Anglo-Australian nationalist, “has this Church to do with our life or traditions?” Names such as “the Italian Mission,” “Modern Romanism,” express this feeling that the Church, returned from her long exile, has become an alien in her former home.

THE THEORY OF CONTINUITY

The theory of continuity, as I have indicated, was put forward in order to explain away and minimise the fact that English religion has suffered a radical revolution which has changed the whole character of the nation’s life. Now, the great and vital change which made the others possible was the separation of England from Catholic unity by the denial of the Pope’s authority. The “Compleat” Protestant will be satisfied to claim that this Roman authority was a usurpation first made perhaps, at an early date, whereby the organisation of the Church’s life has been perverted, its freedom destroyed, and its teaching corrupted. This is not enough for the Anglican, however. He wishes to show that the Papal authority was usurped, not only in the Church generally, but in the English Church especially. If he can show that the Christianity to which England was converted was something other than”Romanism,” then the formation of a new national Church in the 16th century can be upheld, not as a successful revolution repudiating the English past, but as a restoration of liberties lost in the later Middle Ages, and a purification from superstitions which, had gathered around true religion in that time.

“Romanism,” according to this theory, was a phase through which the Anglican Church passed in its earlier development-a stage which may have been inevitable, and even beneficial for a time, but which she has now outgrown. As the nation attained full self-consciousness, she threw off the swaddling clothes of childhood and resumed her birthright of religious freedom-just as she resumed, in the Stewart age, the Parliamentary liberties set aside during the Tudor period in order that the national structure might be centralised and ordered under strong government.

“ECCLESIA ANGLICANA” IN HISTORY

This theory has to face the very grave difficulty that the whole history of the preReformation “Ecclesia

Anglica na” is closely identified with that of the Western Church as a whole. That Roman authority was continuously asserted and recognised in England is unquestionable: that there was no variation from the teaching of the Roman Church is equally certain. Between the days of Pelagius in the Roman-British Church, and those of Wyclif in the fourteenth century, England was not affected with any heresy of the least importance. Finally the whole history of the Reformation shows both the clergy and the mass of the people very reluctant to depart from Catholic orthodoxy.

The Anglican will reply, however, that in every period the “national” claim of the Church to independence can be seen running like a thread, and that it is asserted against Rome from time to time by the clergy, and more often by kings and barons. He lays emphasis on those facts which suggest divergence between the English Church and Rome, whether liturgical or political, and he interprets them in accordance with his theory.

So, in the first stages of English Christian history, Anglicans are anxious to minimise the importance of the Roman Mission of St. Augustine and St. Paulinus, and to emphasise the part played by St. Aidan and the Celtic monks. The reason is that the former mission was directly sent by Pope Gregory I. and held its authority from the Holy See, while the latter belonged to a Church which had been cut off from contact with Rome and developed independently as regards its rites and discipline. If English Christianity can be presented as a Celtic foundation, the acceptance of the Roman discipline and rite at the Whithy Synod can be made to appear as the imposition of an alien authority.

During the Saxon period, the organisation of the Church was much relaxed, and the Canon Law loosely applied, while the appointment of ecclesiastical rulers was assumed by the kings. Hence, the Norman Conquest, which tightened up discipline, reforming the Church on the Continental model, can be claimed as a new interference from without with the national rights of the English Church-though it is generally allowed that the results were in many ways good. After this “Roman” authority is increased by the new claim to rights over episcopal appointments, and by constant Papal interference in the working of English ecclesiastical life. It culminates, in the time of John and Henry III, in the “Papal tyranny” of Pope Innocent III and his successors, over the English Church. Its “liberties,” however, are asserted in Magna Carta, and defended by such men as Archbishop Langton and Bishop Grosseteste, who resisted the Papal tax-gatherers.

The refusal of homage by Edward I and his anticlerical legislation, are hailed as triumphs for the “Anglican” spirit of opposition to Roman Claims; later, the acts of “Provisors” and “Praemunire” attempted-though without great effect-to get rid of the control of the Pope in English Church affairs. The work of Wyclif, the “Morning Star” of the Reformation, set the seed of a purified Christian Church, which was destined, after germinating in obscurity, to ripen in the sixteenth century. The spirit of Lollardy, growing side by side with Nationalism amid the Roman corruptions of the old Church, prepared her for the change which was to restore her true form. From that change she emerged still traditional, but purified, Catholic yet liberal, incarnating the tolerant and comprehensive religious spirit of the nation, standing as a conciliatory “Via Media” between “Roman” Catholicism and Protestantism.

THE POINTS OF CRITICISM

Now, in criticising this “continuity” theory of Anglicanism, it will be necessary, first, to show that the origin of English Christianity came from sources which acknowledged the authority of the Holy See; secondly, that the controversies of the Middle Ages on purely political and legal matters did not affect the general recognition of Papal authority in spiritual matters, any more than Franco’s disagreement with Pius XII about the appointment of Spanish Bishops affected his own Catholic Faith or that of the Church of Spain. Finally, it must be demonstrated that the Reformation was not the reconstruction of the ancient Catholic Church, but its destruction-by savage violence-and replacement by a new State ecclesiastical organisation, whose connection with the old religion consisted chiefly in the fact that-like the Babylonians who carried the temple vessels from Judah-it “inherited” the property of the Church by usurpation.

After this, I shall show that the true tradition of the ancient “Ecclesia Anglicana” was maintained by the witness of the English “Recusants” -the small, faithful remnant who unceasingly protested against the revolution of the sixteenth century.

CHAPTER II

THE EARLY ENGLISH CHURCH

The beginnings of the British Church are wrapped in legend. Its origins have been variously ascribed to St. Joseph of Arimathea and to Pope Eleutherius (173–188), but few traces of British Christianity have been found by modern research before the reign of Constantine. English tradition, however, preserves the names of a few saints, notably the martyr, St. Alban; and British bishops are recorded as having taken part in several early Western Councils. In the fifth century, a British cleric, Pelagius, taught a heretical doctrine about Divine Grace, which St. Germanus came from Gaul to combat. With the Saxon Conquest the eastern and central parts of the island lapsed into paganism, apparently, as the Roman culture was wiped out: but Christianity lived on among the Western Celts in Wales, Cornwall, Cumbria and part of South-west Scotland.

THE CONVERSION OF THE SAXONS

The reconversion of the land was carried out in the seventh century A.D. by missionaries from two sources, Rome and Ireland. The Roman mission, sent by Pope Gregory the Great, with St. Augustine at its head began preaching in Kent and the neighbouring kingdoms of the south, and proceeded to a notable victory in the north in the conversion of King Edwin of Northumbria by St. Paulinus. But this success proved only temporary; at Edwin’s death the missionaries were expelled from the north, and there was a widespread lapse to paganism.

About the Roman character of this mission there can be no doubt. As Abbe Duchesne says, the new Church was “clearly a colony of the Roman Church.” The very names and arrangement of the churches in Canterbury, where St. Augustine fixed his See, were imitated from those in Rome. Controversy, however, has been raised about the character of the Christianity reached by the Irish Monks who next entered the field. In 565 they had set up a monastery at Iona in Scotland; and after the fall of Edwin men from Iona entered Northumbria, headed by St. Aidan, and converted St. Oswald, its king. They founded the Abbey of Lindisfarne, on Holy Island, off the mouth of the Tyne, which became the great missionary centre of the north.

THE CELTIC CHURCHES AND ROME

These Celtic churches, of Gallic and British origin, differed in many ways from the Church of Rome in their discipline and liturgical observance; and these differences have been magnified to the point of claiming them as separate churches, independent of the Holy See. It may be pointed out, however, that the issue of Papal supremacy was never raised at all between the Celtic and Roman clergy in England. The Irish Church owed its foundation chiefly to the great St. Patrick, whose “Armagh Canon” recognised Rome as the final court of appeal in all religious controversies, and whose establishment of the Primatial See was only carried out after a visit to Rome in the reign of Leo I, in order to secure authority for his acts. The great Irish missioner, St. Columbanus, is strong in his assertion of the Roman claims. In a letter to Pope Boniface, he writes, “We Irish, though dwelling at the far ends of the earth, are all disciples of St. Peter and St. Paul. . . . We are bound to the Chair of Peter . . . on account of the two apostles of Christ, you (the Pope) are almost celestial, and Rome is the head of the whole world, and of the Churches.” Cardinal Gilroy and Cardinal Griffin themselves could hardlygo further than describing the Pope as “almost celestial”!

There is no evidence that St. Columba or St. Aidan held any different doctrine from this as to Roman supremacy: and the matter is not mentioned by St. Bede as having been discussed by St. Augustine at his meeting with the Welsh bishops. Had there been any question of the spiritual authority of Rome, the envoy of the Pope himself would hardly have allowed it to be passed over in silence!

In the final decision between the Celtic and Roman rites-at Whitby in 664-St. Colman was the Celtic protagonist. From the story of their debate given by St. Bede, it is clear that he fully assented to the claim of Petrine supremacy made by his opponent, St. Wilfrid, and that he acknowledged St. Columba’s authority as inferior to that of St. Peter-even though he would not abandon his customs. Indeed, in the early days of missionary labour, the controversies between the two groups did not prevent inter-communion and peaceable co-operation. It was the practical inconvenience arising out of the double observance which led to disputes, later inflamed by a certain ill feeling. Those who read the pages of St. Bede, the chronicler of the English missions, and himself a fervent “Roman,” cannot fail to be struck by his moderation and justice to the memory of the Celts. He makes not the least suggestion that they were “heretics,” though he regarded the obstinacy of some of them about their customs as a grave error.

THE QUESTIONS AT ISSUE

The questions between the Celtic and Roman missionaries were not, then, concerned with faith in the unity of the Church under the See of St. Peter, but simply with differences of custom and observance. The Churches of the West, in these early times, while united in their belief, varied a good deal in their rites of worship. That such differences of rite have nothing to do with orthodoxy is made clear, even today, by the existence of the Catholic “Uniate” Churches of the East, whose ceremonial rites, Liturgical languages, vestments and Church law are all different from those of the Roman Church, with which they are in full communion. The ancient Celtic divergence’s were slight in comparison with those of these Oriental Churches: they had arisen largely because of the isolation in which they had developed during the age of confusion which followed the collapse of the Western Empire. For the rest, while Rome’s final authority in faith and discipline was always maintained as a principle of orthodox Faith, it was only slowly that regular Papal administrative control grew up, even in the West: in the East, the older Patriarchates were always completely self-contained for purposes of ordinary government. It is essential that the principle of the supreme spiritual authority of the See of St. Peter-as testified by a long series of early witnesses-should not be confused with the practice of centralised Papal monarchy as it grew up in the West later on. The powers then exercised had always been inherent in the Roman See in virtue of the unique status given to St. Peter by Christ; but their unfolding occurred in a natural way, according to the laws of human historical development.

There were three main differences which caused the dispute in the English churches: the date of the observance of Easter, the form of the tonsure used by clerics, and some obscure difference of rite in the administration of Baptism.

The Celtic churches still adhered to a method of calculating the date of Easter which had been generally abandoned in the west after 457; while in Rome, a new system had been introduced from Alexandria in 525. This Easter question was unimportant in theory, but in practice a great nuisance-as, for instance, in the Court of Oswy of Northumbria, where the Queen (who was from the south) kept the Roman Easter and her husband the Celtic. In the matter of the tonsure, the Romans shaved the crown, the Celts the front of the head from ear to ear-a custom declared (probably untruly) to have been derived from the pagan Druids. Neither party was willing to abandon its customs; to the Irish, in particular, every detail of the tradition of St. Columba was sacred; and in communities where all life is regulated by ancient tradition, changes assume an importance which can hardly be imagined by modern men, living in a world of flux. Accurate, scientific history was yet unborn; it is worth noticing, in the matter of Easter, that neither St.Wilfrid nor St. Colman knew the real origins of the observances for which they disputed-so each of them attributed to his own custom an Apostolic character and sanctity which neither really possessed, the Celt claiming an Eastern origin for his usage which belonged, in fact, to the Roman.

In this matter the Papacy was concerned simply for a convenient uniformity, urging the Roman use when advice was sought, but without any attempt to go further than exhortation.

THE WORK OF ST. THEODORE

The old English Church came into existence at a time when there was no English nation, or even the framework of such a thing: and the unity of England herself was mainly due to the civilising and organising work which the Church achieved.

The greatest of Church organisers was St. Theodore of Tarsus-a Greek of St. Paul’s own city. His very presence in the See of Canterbury testifies, first to the non-national character of the Church he ruled; and secondly, to the solidarity then existing between England, Rome and the East in matters of Faith and Church authority. It was St. Theodore who created a regular organisation in what had hitherto been the English mission field, fixing the Bishoprics and dividing up St. Wilfrid’s enormous See of York. The quarrel about this question between the two saints resulted in one of the most famous appeals from England to Rome, St. Wilfrids claim for restoration being granted “by the orders of the Apostolic See.” In the Synod of Hertford, held in 673, St. Theodore introduced himself to his clergy as “appointed Bishop of Canterbury by the Apostolic See.”

St. Theodore left the English Catholic Church united under the central control of Canterbury, while the land was still divided among a number of kings. That unity was broken later, however, by the creation of the Archbishopric of York for Northumbria in 735-once again by direct Papal action. A third Archbishopric-Lichfield-was both created and suppressed by Papal authority, in response to the request of the Mercian kings. In the Council of Cloveshoe, at which the latter decision was approved in 803, the Assembly declared “with one voice,” that their Faith was “that which was planted in the beginning by the Holy, Roman and Apostolic See, under the direction of the most blessed PopeGregory.”

CHRISTIAN WORSHIP OF THE ANGLO-SAXONS

The worship of the newly founded Churches was Catholic in the strictly “Roman” sense. The Churches, altars, vestments and liturgies give evidence of a firm belief in the Sacrifice of the Mass, which was offered for the living and the dead. The usage of Communion under both kinds existed-but the fact that one kind was allowed to be given outside Mass shows that the view held of its sufficiency was that of the present day Church. It was identical, too, with it in the belief in Purgatory, in the use of prayers for the dead, and prayers to the saints-above all, in the cult of the Blessed Virgin Mother of God. The veneration of sacred relics, such as those of St. Cuthhert and St. Oswald, was practised everywhere in Britain and Ireland.

Pilgrimages to Rome were frequent, in spite of the difficulties of journeying; and a number of kings and rulers visited the shrine of the Apostles. The first English hostel there owed its foundation to King Ina of Wessex, who resigned his crown to die piously in the Holy City. Offa of Mercia established the offering of “Peter’s Pence”; Alfred the Great was taken to Rome as a child by his father. King Ethelwulf; and in later years, amid all his difficulties, repeatedly sent envoys and gifts to the Pope. Canute, the Danish conqueror, went on pilgrimage in 1027. Every Archbishop received from Rome the “Pallium” or sign of authority which had been given first to St. Augustine, and many paid a personal visit to the Pope in order to receive it. It is interesting to note that this ancient symbol of office is still represented in the official crest of the Anglican See of Canterbury, though the Roman authority which it symbolises has been repudiated since Elizabethan times!

In the days of misfortune, when the Danish invasions degraded and ruined English civilisation, the Church suffered most of all in the general disaster. The destruction of monasteries-among them St. Bede’s glorious Jarrow-led to the shipwreck of culture. Ignorance and laxity prevailed, with immorality among clergy and laity alike. The Western law of celibacy, indeed, proved impossible to enforce among the secular clergy until long after the Conquest; but in other respects the Church’s life was regenerated by the reforms of St. Dunstan, the restorer of monasticism. A second period of decay set in, however, with the disorders and miseries of the reign of Ethelred the Unready, which was ended only with the reforms of the Norman age.

CHURCH AND STATE

To speak of the English Church as a “National Church” during this period is to use a term which is simply meaningless since the nation itself did not yet exist. The people still spoke three different languages; and the Danish invasions introduced a new alien element which took long to assimilate even after their conversion. Loyalty was still mainly given to the local chief or Earl; and such sanctity as the Kingship possessed before men was given to it by the Church, whose consecration had changed the King from a tribal war chief into an anointed ruler representing God’s authority in the temporal sphere.

The Church was, indeed, much bound up with the life of the monarchy. On account of their superior learning in a barbarous age, as well as the sacredness attributed to their office, clerics often played a political role more important than that of kings or nobles. Bishops and Abbots sat in the great Council, the “Witan,” the Bishops judged side by side with the Earls in the shire courts-for there was as yet no clear separation of jurisdictions. It is true also that, while the Pallium remained as the symbol of Papal authority, the custom grew up whereby the King nominated Bishops and Archbishops, since much depended on the loyalty of such mighty lords as the rulers of the Church had become. But to see in this any real resemblance to the position later claimed by Henry VIII and Elizabeth in ecclesiastical affairs is to misconstrue the whole sense of Anglo-Saxon history.

The authority of Rome in spiritual things was again and again asserted in the course of that history-it was never challenged or denied in principle. It is only necessary to compare the position of such a prelate as St. Dunstan even with that of Archbishop Laud-the most powerful among the later Anglican Church rulers-to see the difference. Certainly, the indignant saint, when he dragged the wretched King Edwy by main force from his mistress” side back to the Coronation feast he had dishonoured, had no inkling that he was laying sacrilegious hands on the person of the Supreme Governor of the Church of England.

PART II: THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH

CHAPTER I

THE CHURCH IN NORMAN AND ANGLICAN ENGLAND

The normal Anglican view of the pre-Reformation English Church has been summed up by the eminent historian Bishop Creighton. “There was never a time in England,” he says, “when the papal authority was not resented; and really, the final act of the repudiation of that authority followed quite naturally as the result of a long series of similar acts which had taken place from the earliest times.” Here, then, is the thesis. Papal authority existed-but by violence, resisted by kings and people when possible; finally overthrown with general approval.

It may be well to observe, first, that a spiritual authority such as that of the Papacy can only exist in virtue of consent. Even if it is backed by the temporal power, the ruler must be able to secure a general acquiescence in the authority so imposed if he is to succeed. In the Middle Ages, the modern machinery for imposing the will of the Government did not exist, there were no great propaganda organisations, no police force, no national education under State control. How, then-one may ask-could Papal authority have been made effective in face of any considerable resentment against its principle-especially if kings and people had been in agreement in this opposition?

Apart, however, from this general reflection there is -as Gairdner has pointed out-simply no evidence for the continuous protest asserted by Creighton. The most popular saint in mediaeval England was the “Holy Blissful Martyr” to whose Canterbury shrine pilgrims flocked in Chaucer’s day: St. Thomas Becket, who, having died to save the rights of the Popes and Church from Royal usurpation, was regarded as the champion of liberty-the liberty of the spiritual against the temporal power. It is significant that one of the earliest actions of Henry VIII, after his usurpation of Papal supremacy, was to degrade publicly the name of the public hero as “disloyal,” and to desecrate his tomb.

CHURCH QUARRELS IN THE MIDDLE AGES

To speak of a “national” opposition to the Papacy during a great part of the Middle Ages is to ignore the whole character of mediaeval civilisation. The modern national way of life and thought had not yet appeared. For three hundred years after the Conquest, England was governed by a French-speaking aristocracy, while the plain folk spoke varied dialects. Literature was almost exclusively written in Latin-the language of Christian culture, science and philosophy. The independent authority of a supranational body, the Church, with the Holy See as its supreme earthly Governor, was simply assumed. No English King, however powerful, claimed to be lord of the spirituality. The disputes were not between the State and “disloyal” clerics who appealed to a “foreign Bishop”-they were about the legal limits of the sphere of spiritual and temporal jurisdictions, where they affected the same set of people; or about the administrative and financial claims of the Papal Court.

Bishops, for instance, were subject to the Pope as regards their spiritual authority: that was undeniable. But they were also administrators of great lands within the kingdom, exercising princely temporal power as barons. Had not the king, therefore, a claim on their allegiance? Must he not be able to secure himself against the appointment of his enemies to these great public offices? This was the heart of the “Investiture” controversy, which was going on during the Norman period-a conflict which ended in a compromise securing the essential rights of both parties. “Spiritual matters,” to quote Bishop Grosseteste of Lincoln, “should be in the hands of ecclesiastical and spiritual persons, and secular matters in those of lay people.” As the national states developed side by side with the Centralised Papal administrative system there were inevitable tensions and collisions-but neither, during the Middle Ages, denied the rights of the other within its own sphere. It was simply a matter of where the lines should be drawn.

Both English kings and clergy again and again assert the supremacy of the Papacy in spirituals, as founded on the promise of Christ to St. Peter. The Papal intervention in English Church Government is not exceptional, but normal; as to doctrine the Roman Church’s teaching is always the accepted standard of orthodoxy. The great doctor of the fourteenth century, Scotus, whose theology dominated English universities, taught that “It is of faith that the Holy Roman Church . . . admits no error and teaches the truth.” In her beliefs, laws and customs the English Church was an integral part of “Roman Catholic” Western Christendom.

LANFRANC AND ST, ANSELM

Let us now examine some of the conflicts which arose between the Papacy and English rulers in the Middle Ages, and notice the issues.

The thorough reform of the Church after the Conquest was chiefly the work of an Italian, Lanfranc, whom William I made his Archbishop of Canterbury. Lanfranc was famous as a defender of transubstantiation-a doctrine categorically denied in the Anglican prayer book-against Berengarius. He began his work in England by a Synod held at Winchester, over which Papal Legates presided. King William had a brush with Rome over two matters-the arrears due for “Peter’s Pence” (hardly a doctrinal question!) and a claim made by the Pope that he should do homage for England-as the Norman kings did for Sicily and Naples-as a fief of the Holy See. The first claim the king acknowledged, the second he refused-while declaring his filial obedience to the spiritual power of the Pope, and begging for his prayers.

The second Primate, St. Anselm-another Italian-refused to submit to a claim made by William Rufus, that he had the right to decide which of two claimants to the Papacy was to be acknowledged in England. Under Henry I the dispute was over the right assumed hitherto by kings in Europe and England, of investing bishops with ring and crozier. The Pope, afraid lest this ceremony should be misconstrued as giving the temporal ruler power over the spirituality, insisted that it should be discontinued and that the Papacy alone should invest. The compromise settled upon in England-investitures by the Papacy, homage to the King-was ultimately accepted on the Continent also.

ST. THOMAS AND HENRY II

The cause of trouble under Henry II-the first Plantagenet-was the claim of the king to assume jurisdiction over clerics in certain cases. The Royal demand was that the temporal courts should have the right of deciding, after a preliminary hearing, what causes were to go to the Church courts. The king also claimed power to prevent the clergy from leaving England, or appealing to Rome without his permission. The effect of such an arrangement would have been to give the temporal power a predominance over the ecclesiastical, which had always been regarded as by its nature superior. The Church would have been brought under a Royal despotism, and deprived of the possibility of independent action. The popular attitude in this dispute is significant, especially as in Norman times the masses generally supported the monarchy in its conflict with the baronage. St. Thomas, however, had their fullest sympathy in his battle for the rights of the spirituality-and, as we have seen, when he attained victory by martyrdom his shrine became the most famous centre of pilgrimage in the whole West.

ENGLAND A PAPAL FIEF

The high tide of Papal authority in England was reached under Henry II’s son, King John, and his grandson, Henry III. John began a conflict with Pope Innocent III-perhaps the greatest of Papal rulers-by refusing to accept his nomination to the See of Canterbury, made to settle a dispute. The king confiscated the possessions of the Cathedral monastery, driving the monks overseas-whereupon the Pope placed the country under an Interdict. The king seized the goods of the clergy and suffered excommunication; and, since he remained obstinate, the Pope threatened to release his subjects from allegiance to a rule which was a tyranny opposed to the laws of God and man. The King of France was preparing to enforce the Papal sentence when John saved his throne by submission-agreeing not only to accept the Pope’s terms, but also to recognise him as his feudal overlord.

There is no evidence as to the general opinion in England about this act. It was nothing startlingly new in Christendom-for Portugal, the Spanish Kingdoms, and Naples-Sicily were Papal fiefs, indeed, it might be claimed that John was only confirming his father’s surrender to the Pope after the murder of St. Thomas. In any case, it was no more humiliating than his brother Richard I’s allegiance to the German-Roman Emperor, which is almost forgotten. The barons, in their fight for the great Charter, found Innocent III’s support of the king a grave inconvenience-for the Pope never realised the villainy and deceit of his “beloved son,” and even Cardinal Langton, of Canterbury, his own nominee, was involved in censure for his part in the revolt. In despair, a section of the Baronage turned to France-an act difficult to reconcile with the theory of their strong English patriotism-and when John suddenly died it looked as if Prince Louis’s accession would make the country a French dependency. That this did not happen was due largely to the Papal Legate, Gualo, who took control of the affairs of the child Henry III. He wisely accepted the Charter in the Pope’s name, and rallied an increasing number of the barons to the Plantagenet cause. In fact, in this crisis it may be claimed that the Papacy played a leading part in saving the independence of the English monarchy.

HENRY III AND THE CHURCH

During the long reign of Henry III the Roman controversy assumed a new character. The feudal overlordship of Rome led to an alliance of Pope and king, as-a result of which the Church was fleeced by Papal and Royal taxgatherers, in order to provide the war-chest for the long struggle of the Papacy with the Emperor Frederick II, and to support Henry’s schemes for winning new kingdoms for his relatives. English benefices, too, were used to provide salaries or rewards for Papal bureaucrats.

Naturally, indignation ran high among clergy and laity alike; and it was led by some of the best and most upright among them. They complained-with justice- of the misuse of endowments granted for the feeding of Christ’s flock in England. But the resistance never touched the spiritual authority of the Holy See. Its greatest leader, Bishop Grosseteste of Lincoln, even in his last letter to Pope Innocent IV-refusing to execute a Papal provision-professes his complete devotion to the Holy See “as to both parents.” “In a filial and obedient spirit” he cries, “I do not obey-I refuse and I rebel.” The authority was not denied; only its abuse was the cause of protest.

PROVISORS AND PRAEMUNIRE

King Edward I repudiated the Pope’s feudal authority, but remained his obedient spiritual son. The disputes in this reign are about the Royal taxation of Church lands: they led, at one time, to an “outlawing” of the clergy by the king in order to overcome the resistance of Archbishop Winchelsea.

Under Edward III, two acts, “Provisors” and “Praemunire” were passed-aiming once again at the heavy taxation which the Papacy-now resident at Avignon in France-was levying in order to make up for the loss of its Italian revenues. The fees charged for Papal “provisions”-or appointments to Church benefices-were a serious burden on the clergy. Both fees and provisions, therefore, were abolished by “Provisors,” while “Praemunire” laid severe penalties on those procuring these Papal grants from abroad. These laws were never fully applied-the king dispensing with them when he chose by private arrangement with the Papacy. It is obvious that they had nothing whatever to do with the recognition of the Pope’s spiritual authority in England.

These disputes, then, have no reference to “national” claims as against the unity of Catholic Christendom. They never for a moment affected belief in the rights of the Holy See, inherited from St. Peter, to act as shepherd of Christ’s flock. The feeling of the plain people varied with the matter at issue. Under Henry II they favoured the cause of St. Thomas; under Henry III they opposed the Papal exactions. But of “resentment” concerning the Roman claim to supremacy there is no sign at all. When not quietly assumed, it was clearly asserted-often by the very men who are opposing the political action of Rome.

Catholic bishops, assembled at the General Council of Constance in the fifteenth century, paid a tribute to this loyalty of the English to the Holy See. “The Kingdom of England,’’ they declared, “has never swerved from its obedience to the Roman Church; it has never tried to rend the seamless coat of Our Lord; it has never endeavoured to shake off its loyalty to the Roman pontiffs.”

CHAPTER II

ENGLISH LOLLARDY

Before concluding our account of the pre-Reformation Church, a word ought to be said about the “Lollard” movement. “Lollardy” flourished in the fourteenth and early fifteenth century in England, and was introduced into Central Europe by Hus, to become the standard of Slav revolt against the German rulers of Bohemia. It is one of the curious features of Anglicanism that some of those who claim “continuity” with the English Church of the Middle Ages are equally ready to claim connection with the Lollard sectaries whom that Church condemned, persecuted and ultimately crushed, with the help of the Catholic rulers of the time. This is indeed to “run with the hare and hunt with the hounds”!

It has been commonly maintained that John Wyclif, the founder of Lollardy, was the “Morning Star” of the Reformation that the mind of England was turned to the pure Gospel by his revolt, which was a popular movement; that, though apparently crushed, heresy survived underground, preparing the minds of the people for the great change of the sixteenth century, when a growing swell of public feeling strengthened the national revolt against “Papalism.” We must now see how much truth there is in this theory.

THE BLACK DEATH AND THE GREAT SCHISM

In 1349 and the years following, England, in common with the rest of Europe, was swept by the most destructive pestilence in recorded history-the Black Death. It is reckoned that a full half of the English nation was wiped out. The marvel is that the mediaeval social system survived at all-not that it suffered a shock from which it never fully recovered. There was, very naturally, a terrific mortality among the clergy-especially the best of them, who were most devoted in bringing spiritual succour to the sick and dying victims. To fill up vacancies, too many young and unlearned and unworthy were ordained-so that the quality of the clerical body suffered throughout Christendom.

Moreover, the Church of the time was afflicted by many scandalous evils. The Papacy-now established at Avignon-had come under powerful French influence, losing much reputation and loyalty thereby. After the ending of the “captivity” at Avignon, the Pope’s return to Rome, a worse evil yet came with the Great Schism, in which the right of the Chair and authority of Peter were disputed between two and later three claimants. The kings of Europe took sides with one or another as it served their purpose. The discipline of the Church fell into chaos: the keystone of the arch, it seemed, was lost. The long duration of this apparent fission in the Papacy led men, for the first time in the West, to question whether there could be some other basis of Church organisation than the authority of the Holy See; and the claims made at the Council of Constance led to a confusion about Papal power which was only finally ended by the definition of Infallibility in 1870.

The power of the rulers of rising national States became increased in Church matters-for who else could maintain order in the existing ecclesiastical chaos? Churches began to assume the new “national” complexion, even while the Faith of Europe was still one. In both England and France, the higher Church offices tended to become a preserve of the great aristocratic houses, so that the hierarchy became detached from the lower clergy and people, and was involved in the rising unpopularity of the ruling class. In the economic conflict between peasants and their feudal lords, which followed the Black Death, culminating in England in the rising of 1331, the bishops were attacked-too often with good reason-as lordly oppressors of the poor. Meanwhile, the lay barons themselves hoped to increase their power and wealth by taking advantage of the weakness of the Church, to plunder it for their own profit.

JOHN WYCLIF

It was in this disturbed atmosphere that John Wyclif set forth some new and revolutionary religious opinions at Oxford, which obtained a good deal of support. Like many modern philosophers, he was very susceptible to the trend of contemporary political thought; and he tried-without conspicuous success-to base it on philosophic foundations. He argued that the Church had no need of wealth. Christ and His Apostles had been poor; and riches were a cause of spiritual corruption. Moreover, the political influence of the Church was an abuse, since such things belonged to Caesar-this argument has a curiously modern ring. But there followed a piece of absurdity which it is difficult to take seriously-that of “Dominion founded on Grace.” All civil dominion being derived from God, was conditional upon being in a “State of Grace”-that is free from grave sin!

This-Wyclif was careful to explain-did not justify a general attack on the property of ungodly men: but apparently it did justify an attack on the wealth of the Church by the civil power. The king should seize it, and use it for improving the social and military position of the kingdom.

Such teaching-which was revolutionary, while not strictly heretical-appealed much to the great lords covetous for more wealth. Wyclif found a patron in John of Gaunt, Duke of Lancaster, whose dominion was certainly not founded on grace. When the doctor was hauled before the Convocation of Canterbury, Gaunt protected him, though he was nearly lynched by a London mob aroused not so much by his heterodoxy as by hatred of his princely protector. After a second enquiry at Lambeth-again broken up by mob violence-he retired to Oxford.

WYCLIF’S HERESIES

Inspired, apparently, by the model of St. Francis of Assisi-whom he admired-Wyclif began to send out a number of disciples, the “poor priests,” to preach their master’s doctrine. These men were under no real discipline, and their sermons soon assumed a social-revolutionary character which secured their popularity with a discontented peasantry. Meanwhile the doctor began a translation of the Scriptures-a work not yet done in English, whose literary development was in its childhood. His mind progressed rapidly towards dogmatic heresy, and his views began to assume what we may call a “Protestant” complexion. He found in the Bible, privately interpreted, a sufficient guide to life. He denounced pilgrimages and also Indulgences-which were, indeed, grossly abused by the operations of fraudulent “Pardoners,” and repudiated the veneration of holy images and prayer to the Saints. He regarded sacramental grace as a secondary matter, and the hierarchy of the Church as a doubtful blessing. Finally, he denied the very cornerstone of the Catholic system-the doctrine of Transubstantiation in the Blessed Sacrament of the Altar.

Wyclif’s powerful supporters began to drop away as soon as he became definitely heretical: and since, in the Peasant Rising of 1381, the new Lollard view of property had inspired some of the leaders, his adherents were expelled from the universities. He himself retired into obscurity at Lutterworth. He was summoned to Rome, but died in the same year, 1384. His immunity was probably due largely to the state of confusion in the Papacy, and the Catholic world, resulting from the “Great Schism.”

THE LOLLARDS

The movement in Oxford was broken-and after Wyclif’s death his following was chiefly among the lower middle class, and was confined to certain regions, mainly of Eastern England, and to London. Its spread in Continental Europe-owing to the connection of Bohemia and England through King Richard II’s marriage-does not concern us here. Richard himself opposed Lollardy, but was reluctant to persecute; indeed, this reluctance served as a handle to his enemies. With his overthrow, and the usurpation of Henry IV of Lancaster, the work of repression began in earnest. It was undertaken-be it noted-by an Act of Parliament. Judgment on heresy was given in the Bishops’ Courts, but the delinquent was to be burnt if he refused to abjure, by the State authority. The persecution policy was dictated, probably, by panic at the revolutionary Lollard views about property rather than by their purely religious theories. Comparatively few, however, were burnt, the vast majority recanting as soon as they were brought to trial.

During the first thirty years of the fifteenth century, Lollardy continued to be of some importance: the extent of its spread is somewhat difficult to ascertain, because Conservatives of the period have a habit of using the term “Lollard” to describe anti-clericals and radicals of all sorts-just as “Commo” and “Bolshie” are loosely used today. When we read, for instance, that in Leicestershire “every second man” was a Lollard, it really tells us very little of the extent to which real heresy prevailed.

THE DECLINE OF LOLLARDY

Under King Henry V. Lollardy began to become definitely unpopular with plain folk, owing to the opposition of its chief exponent, Sir John Oldcastle, to the rising spirit of patriotic loyalty to the warrior king. Oldcastle was executed for treason at the time of the French War, and thereafter the Lollards no longer appear in the forefront of English history. Lollardy was weakened, too, by its complete lack of organisation, and by the “cranky” views of many of its adherents. After the Council of Constance, the Schism was healed and the Hussite rebels suppressed in Europe; and by the reign of Henry VII, the first Tudor, heresy only survived among small groups of ignorant and obscure men. Occasionally heresy trials indicate that it was not entirely extinguished, but in 1520 it had exercised no influence for a half century or more. The remnants of English Lollardy combined with the later rising tide of Protestantism under Henry VIII, but they contributed little to the flood, it seems. There is no evidence that any of the prominent early reformers had been Lollards before they became Protestants.

The discontent with clerical wealth and clerical abuses continued; but under Henry VII and Henry VIII a movement of Catholic reform was active within the Church, promoted by such men as Morton, Colet, St. John Fisher and the great St. Thomas More. This work had already begun to produce good results in a revival both of learning and Christian spirit in the clergy, when it was broken in upon by a revolution managed not from below, but from above; a revolution whose chief motive power was the same one which had inspired Gaunt’s support of Wyclif in his first days-the lust of rich men for the Church’s wealth.

THE EVE OF THE REFORMATION

The parish records of the fifteenth and early sixteenth centuries; the fact that the monastic bodies, though not in their first fervour, were still flourishing; the general veneration, above all, for the Blessed Sacrament, and for the great shrines of the Saints-such as St. Thomas of Canterbury and Our Lady of Walsingham-all these combine to show that the English nation of that epoch was as fully Catholic as any other part of the West. Even those who were most dissatisfied with the political absorption of the Papacy and the spiritual torpor of Christendom would never have dreamt that the best way to reform the Church was to destroy its whole organisation.

English Protestantism, in fact, owes nothing to a spontaneous revulsion of the nation from “Popery.” The revolution came into being by gradual stages-originating in the violence, greed and lust of a king, at a time when kingly authority was most worshipped and the spiritual tone of the Papacy had fallen to a low level. The triumph of the Reform in England was no more “inevitable” than its failure in Spain or France. Henry VIII stood at one of those turning points in history in which a straw can deflect the current of its stream: and it was a straw that did so. To contributing causes-servility, corruption, indifference, discontent-we can allow full weight; but the divorce of Queen Catharine of Aragon by Henry VIII was the deciding factor.

In 1521 the old English Church’s loyalty to the Catholic Faith was declared by the Bishop who presented King Henry’s own work against Luther to the Pope. England he declared, yielded to no other nation, not even to Rome itself, in the service of God and the Faith and in obedience to the Roman Church; “Even as there is no nation which more opposes, more condemns, more loathes this monster (Protestantism) and the heresies which spring from it.” He expressed, undoubtedly, the general feeling of the Englishmen of his time towards the new doctrines.

PART III

THE REFORMATION AND THE “RECUSANTS”

CHAPTER I

THE TRANSITION TO ANGLICANISM

In the previous sections of this study -Parts I and II-I have shown that in every period of the old English Church from St. Augustine to the sixteenth century that Church was “Roman Catholic” in belief and rites, and in full communion with the Papal See. We have now to consider the nature of the changes carried out under the Tudors, and whether they can be described as a conservative reform which purified the ancient Church, leaving the substance of its faith and tradition intact, or rather as a religious revolution by which an entirely new structure was erected in the place of the older “Ecclesia Anglicana.”

HENRY VIII

Macaulay is no friend of Catholicism though little concerned with “continuity.” This stalwart Whig and Protestant, however, minces no words in his commentary on the English Reformation. It was, he writes, the work of worldly, unprincipled men and Royal murderers-”sprung from brutal passion, nurtured by selfish policy.” The facts of its history bear out these words.

The motive of the changes wrought by Henry VIII was power and pillage, their inspirer Thomas Cromwell, is a man who has found few apologists-though his type is common enough in our own time, where, beside every tyrant, is his efficient “stooge”-his Gestapo or N.K.V.D. organiser-to carry out his robberies and killings with smooth silent despatch. The servility of the episcopate and clergy made a schism with Rome possible at the time of the Divorce: and the declaration of the Royal supremacy was received with apparent indifference by the common people, since it left the traditional forms of worship and religious teaching substantially unaltered. Reverence for the Holy See had suffered much from the worldliness and political absorption of the Renaissance Papacy, and from the scandals of the Court of Rome which were the common gossip of Europe, and there were many-especially of the middle class who were not displeased to see the King set up over the clergy, though in the matter of the Divorce, feeling was strong against Henry, and Anne Boleyn was bitterly hated.

But the first attempts at a radical change of doctrine-inspired by Seymour and Archbishop Cranmer-fell flat, having little support anywhere, and none from the King. At a conference with Lutheran divines, articles based on the Confession of Augsburg were agreed to, but Henry could not forget that he himself had written against the German Reformer-and he was sensitive to the taunt of heresy. Finally, the period of radical Bishops’ flirtations with heresy was ended, for a time, by the issue of the Six Articles which asserted a very full body of orthodox Catholic doctrine on the religious matters in dispute on the Continent. The destruction of the monasteries, however, whetted the appetites of the gentry for spoil, and accustomed simple folk to the sight of plunder and also to blasphemous irreverence towards things hitherto deemed holy. The Shrines of Canterbury and Walsingham were ravished, with the religious houses up and down England; certain “superstitious’’ images were destroyed, and many Church vessels and rich vestments confiscated-most of the plate to be melted down, the rest turned to secular use. Thus the road was made clear, and men’s minds hardened and prepared for the next phase.

In fact, the most important result of Henry’s work was that the church was no longer inviolable; its rights had been invaded, and the invasion could be carried further. Above all, the distribution of the Church’s property among the ruling class created a strong “vested interest” hostile to Catholic restoration, and ready to move further towards Protestantism to make themselves secure against it-gathering up further plunder, of course, as they went. This fact is worth remembering when we consider the story of the next three reigns.

EDWARD VI

In Henry VIII’s last years, the reforming clique’s power tended to grow as the King’s faculties decayed and his hold on power relaxed. Its political leader was Seymour, the uncle of the young Prince of Wales: and, when the Prince became King Edward VI at the age of nine, a doubtful Royal Will was produced which enabled this group to assume authority. Young Edward-a sickly priggish little boy, brought up to hate “Popery”-was hailed as the “Young Josiah” of the Reform.

The first English Prayer book was issued by Royal Authority in 1549. It was a “compromising” work based on miscellaneous Latin and Greek sources, ambiguous on the Real Presence in the Blessed Sacrament, ignoring the sacrificial character of the Eucharist, but retaining the word “Mass” in a subtitle, and much Catholic language, even prayers for the dead were included. This book satisfied nobody-not even its authors, who were taunted by the conservative leader, Bishop Gardiner, with their own denial of its doctrine!

It was replaced, therefore, in 1552 by the second prayer-book-substantially that used in the Anglican Church of today. In this book, the Liturgy was radically altered and the Canon mutilated, the Catholic allusions to “Mass,” altar, and so on were removed; unction of the sick was suppressed, as well as Reservation of the Sacred Elements, and prayers for the dead were abolished. The stone altar-symbol of the sacrificial Mass-was to be replaced by a communion-table. A new ordinal was introduced in 1550, from which all mention of the sacrificial priesthood-the “sacerdotium”-had been expunged. The Conservative Bishops, standing by the Six Articles, revolted against these changes as contrary not only to true Faith, but to Law-having been carried through in the King’s minority. They were replaced by others, including some consecrated according to the new ordinal.

The simple folk failed to notice the “continuity” of the new service with the old. Its introduction caused widespread riots in the country, whose discontent was added to by the rapacity and usurpations of the new landlords. In the South West, particularly, a genuine Catholic rising had to be suppressed by foreign hired bands. For the rest, the ruling gang were soon at one another’s throats. The first leader, the Protector Somerset, was pulled down and killed by a more ruthless ruffian, Dudley, who made himself Duke of Northumberland, and pretended a great fervour for Calvinistic reform. He planned to set up his own son as puppet-King, marrying him to a young cousin of King Edward’s, and securing the dying lad’s consent to the exclusion of his half-sisters, Mary and Elizabeth, in her favour. But the plot miscarried. The people detested the “new disorder” and wanted to go back to the old laws and ways-above all, to be rid of Northumberland’s tyranny. Mary, the daughter of Catherine of Aragon, was acclaimed in Norfolk, and rode in triumph to London (1553).

THE MARIAN RESTORATION

For a moment it seemed that the-”Reform” was over. All the religious legislation of Henry VIII and Edward VI was repealed: Catholic doctrine and worship were completely restored-though not the secularised property of the Church. The Conservative Bishops returned to full Catholic allegiance-and thenceforth, with one exception, remained loyal to the Holy See. The “Reforming” Bishops were formally deprived of their Sees; and those consecrated according to the new ordinal found their orders invalidated.

The ill-success of Mary is well-known. Her work was never completed owing to the shortness of her reign and the lack of a Catholic successor. She identified the Catholic cause fatally with Spanish Imperialism by her marriage with Philip II. Her persecution was based on the old laws against Lollardy. It was openly religious rather than political, leaving almost all the real criminals of the last two reigns unpunished-and most of them in public office and power- while a number of simple and sincere people were put to death, whose sufferings brought new unpopularity on the clergy. But perhaps the greatest cause of her failure was the fear aroused by the restoration among the powerful persons who had despoiled the Church. The Queen had set an example by returning as much of her father’s and brother’s plunder as lay in her hand-and they were afraid that, if the Church were solidly re-established, others might be expected to do likewise. With her death therefore, and that of her able Archbishop, Cardinal Pole, the “Reform” returned again to power-this time finally.

THE LAST OF THE OLD CHURCH

The ancient Church, though re-established, had been weakened, its leaders servility had led to schism, its restoration, like its overthrow, had been accomplished by the secular power, to whose usurpations in the spiritual sphere Englishmen had grown accustomed in the past thirty years. There was no prospect of serious resistance to a second attack upon it by the turncoats and profiteers from ecclesiastical spoil who had retained office through three reigns and three religious “settlements.” The hierarchy was depleted in numbers-ten Sees being vacant, including the primatial See of Canterbury. Those who remained were resolute in their loyalty to the Faith, all save one, but they showed no capacity for more than passive resistance. Gardiner of Winchester, the greatest and most statesmanlike of the defenders of Conservative orthodoxy under Henry VIII, had died in the reign of Mary. There was no Duke of Guise in England to rally the forces of lay Catholicism against William Cecil, the shrewdest politician in the nation, and the new Queen’s chief adviser.

Elizabeth was crowned with Catholic rites by the Bishop of Carlisle-much troubled by his apprehensions-but it was evident from the first that changes were coming. Anne Boleyn’s daughter would not endure the Papacy which had refused to legitimate her mother’s marriage; and the Catholic Bishops would not compromise a second time by accepting a settlement of Henry’s “Six Articles” type. She was forced-probably against her will-to move further to the left, back again to the Protestant Edwardian settlement of the second Prayer book.

The new Parliament-obedient as usual to the Royal will-re-enacted the laws abolishing Papal authority and annexing the Papal rights of Church Government to the Crown. The Queen was called “Governess” instead of Head- but it made no difference: for the new settlement was legislated into existence by the secular power. The Canterbury Convocation made a last stand for the old “Ecclesia Anglicana,” affirming the Sacramental doctrine of the Church, the Sacrifice of the Mass, the authority of the Holy See and the rights of the spirituality; and the Universities joined them in their protest. The Bishops in the Lords, with Archbishop Heath of York at their head were solid in maintaining the cause of Catholicism and the unity of Christ’s Church. However, after a farcical debate between Catholic and Protestant clerics, the Acts of Supremacy and Uniformity were passed. The visitors appointed under it tendered the oath to the Bishops but only one-Kitchin of Llandaff-took it. The rest refused firmly and were deprived. As they died, one by one, in exile or confinement, the ancient hierarchy was extinguished.

THE NEW BISHOPS

A new line of Protestant Bishops came into existence with Dr. Matthew Parker, intruded by Royal authority into Canterbury after a period of general vacancy of the Bishoprics. Parker was consecrated by four deprived Bishops of Edward VI’s time. Of these one, though a Protestant, had received consecration according to the old Catholic rites, two had been consecrated according to the rite adopted in King Edward’s reign, which the Catholic authorities had held to be invalid; one, Barlow, may never have been consecrated at all! The rite of the Second (1552) Prayer book was used, in which the office of Bishop was not mentioned in the words of Consecration. The whole modern Anglican hierarchy and clergy as tracing its orders back to Parker, depends on his status for the validity of theirs. It has thus no Catholic standing whatever, and no “continuity” with the ancient hierarchy of the Church founded by St. Augustine.

Parker himself was a gentle, estimable man, definitely Protestant in his beliefs. His Episcopal brethren held varying views, like their modern successors, being united chiefly in their strong rejection of “Popery.” A number regarded the new Elizabethan settlement as an unsatisfactory compromise and encouraged the movement towards more radical “Puritanism.” The clergy frequently disregarded the Prayer book, and the Royal “Injunctions” in order to follow their own caprices, so that the religious arrangements of parishes showed from the first a great variety.

THE PARISH CLERGY

While the Catholic Bishops rejected the oath of Supremacy, it is a shameful fact that the majority of the parish clergy accepted it-even if the highest figures are taken for refusals, there were no more than a thousand. Their failure, if inexcusable, is not inexplicable.

Many had been ordained in Henry VIII’s time, under the Royal Supremacy. The changes of recent years had been temporary, and the Queen’s weak health gave reason for surmising that the latest might endure no longer than the others. The Queen of Scots would come in then, and Catholic worship would be restored. A number of priests said Mass in secret, while observing the new worship publicly, a minority became “hedge-priests,” and others, who at first confirmed, seem to have joined them later. In these conditions, the authorities found it difficult to provide for parishes, and curés came to be held by many ignorant and ill-conditioned persons-many churches had only lay readers. The Reformation brought no reform of the clergy in either learning or morals-the evidence testifies rather to the contrary. Things may have been ill before-they were worse afterwards.

“ROYAL INJUNCTIONS”

The Act of Uniformity made Church attendance compulsory, under pain of a heavy fine. This rule was increasingly enforced while special fines-of crushing weight-were later laid on Catholic “Recusants” (refusers). A Royal visitation to enforce the oath of Supremacy was provided with “injunctions” as to parish worship under the new regime.

These provide an interesting light on the question of “Continuity.” The clergy were required to preach against the Papacy, in favour of the Royal Supremacy, four times a year. They were to warn their people that pilgrimages, candles and rosaries were idolatrous. The old religious processions were forbidden, shrines, religious images and other monuments of “idolatry and superstition” were to be destroyed, as well as stained-glass windows. Altars were to be removed, and inventories made of Church ornaments, plate and books-especially those connected with Catholic worship. No wafers were to be used in communion-only plain bread.

The Visitors’ work was continued by the hated Court of High Commission, which administered the Royal supremacy until its abolition on the eve of the Great Rebellion in Charles I’s reign. After the Restoration of Charles II, the work was taken over by Parliament.

THE WRECKERS

The wrecking of the churches had begun even before the Visitors arrived; for as early as August, 1559, there was an “Auto da fe” of crosses, images, censers altar-cloths books and banners in London and similar deeds took place all over the country. Everything connected with Catholic worship was usually destroyed, sometimes the vestments were made into dresses or uniforms. The removal of stone altars-symbols of sacrifice-took place often amid scenes of revolting profanity. The Government wished, at first, to have all chalices melted down as “superstitous.” Crucifixes and crosses-even in graveyards-were destroyed. Houses were searched for Catholic service books, which were burned. Pews and carved work were cut up for bedsteads, the niches of the smashed images were whitewashed. In a word, the old parish churches were practically gutted from end to end.

As for the new service, its performance was often hardly decent. The Communion table was moved hither and thither-treated as a hat-stand in one church, while in another it was “decked like an altar.” As for vestments, early attempts to secure the use of the Cope at Communion failed, the surplice itself was barely tolerated in the first years after the new settlement.

THE CHARACTER OF THE CHANGE

These, then, are the facts: and it may well be asked how, in the face of them, it is possible to establish any genuine “continuity” between the old “Ecclesa Anglicana” and the new Anglican Church. We see the ancient authority outraged; the very existence of a “Visible Church” in the old sense denied; doctrines, even the most fundamental, overthrown by Act of Parliament; the ancient hierarchy expelled, and its place usurped by State-appointed officials, ordained by a new, unheard of ritual; the churches plundered and wrecked to destroy the least vestige cf Catholic worship. If this is not a radical religious revolution, there is no such thing.

True, there came later a movement of partial restoration; decency and even splendour in worship reappeared with the reforms of the Stewart period, and some ancient Church doctrines were revived. But no stream can rise above its source and the source of the Anglican hierarchy and authority is not the Church of St. Augustine, but the Church of Elizabeth and Parker, set up by the religious revolution of the sixteenth century, in which the old Catholic English Church was done to death.

CHAPTER II

THE RECUSANTS AND OLD ENGLISH TRADITION

After the usurpation of the throne of England by William and Mary in 1689, the rights of the ancient Royal dynasty continued to be asserted by a dwindling body of British loyalists-the “Jacobites”-until its extinction in 1805. So it was with the rights and faith of the ancient English Church-only that in its case, the claim has been upheld until the present day, and has never at any time been without supporters in England. Though the ancient hierarchy perished, Catholicism ,did not have to be reintroduced into the country, for a minority always remained who refused to “bow the knee” to the Baal of the new Royally imposed religious order. Sometimes it dwindled-sometimes expanded, at last, in the eighteenth century, it sank almost entirely out of view until the coming of the “Second Spring” after Emancipation. This body of “Recusants,” English and even ultra loyalist, served by English priests trained in seminaries founded and staffed by English exiles, continued the tradition of the ancient Church founded by St. Augustine, they, and they alone, have the indefeasible right to the name of “English Catholics.”

NATIONALISM OF THE CATHOLICS

It is interesting to notice how little there was among them of what was later styled “Ultramontanism”-the particular attachment to Italian devotions and ways of worship, and insistence upon the mediaeval political claims of the Papacy over secular rulers. The great body of English Catholics were unswervingly, even absurdly national under the most adverse conditions; and it was their loyalty to the rulers under whose bloody persecutions they suffered which, from the first, made organised resistance so difficult. The readiness of the majority of them to accept a form of allegiance to James I drafted in the most insulting terms, even when it was condemned by the Pope, is only one sign of their attitude. The group of exiles who held, with Parsons, the Jesuit, that Catholics should support a foreign intervention to overthrow Elizabeth or force her to change her religious policy, found themselves handicapped by the enthusiastic nationalism of their English co-religionists. The clergy-even though after the dying out of the “Marian” priests, they were all trained and ordained abroad-were filled with the same spirit. Educated at Douay, Seville or Rome, under the protection of the Pope and the King of Spain-both declared foes of the Queen at the end of her reign-they yet accepted her authority. Their spirit was that of Blessed Edmund Campion who prayed for “Elizabeth, my Queen and your Queen” on the scaffold, to which she had doomed him after tortures which beggar description.

It was not for Catholics who were persecuted for their loyalty to spiritual authority, to deny the rights of the temporal power within its own sphere. As they had refused the spiritual revolution, so they rejected the temporal revolts of the next century-thereby suffering a double ruin. It was a paradox that the children of those who were harried under James 1 for “disloyalty” should suffer under Cromwell’s Government, as later under that of the Orange usurper, for their attachment to the lawful King. It was left for the sons of the subservient “loyalists” who had aided the Tudors in their usurpation’s, first, to rebel against their sovereign and kill him, and later, to commit the very crime which Catholics had again and again been accused of plotting-that of summoning over a foreign prince and army to overthrow the Government.

CHARLES II ON CATHOLICISM

Charles II, probably the ablest of all our Kings, fully realised the importance of the English Catholic tradition to the monarchy. His attitude, at a time when he himself hovered between scepticism and the Faith, may be compared to that of the great modern infidel who has defended Catholicism in France-Charles Maurras. The nature of Protestantism was, as he saw it, inconstant. Having in the past abandoned one authority to which they were bound by every tie of tradition and law-the Holy See-there was no reason, he held, to suppose that Anglicans might not equally abandon the Royal authority at a crisis, despite their fervent assertions of the principle of “Divine Right.” And so, in fact, it proved: for, even though Charles I had died a martyr for Anglicanism, it was Anglican Bishops who gave the signal, by their revolt, for the revolution which drove out his son. The “continuity” of political as well as religious tradition was to be found in the highest degree among Catholics, who remained faithful, to a man, to the House of Stewart; while of Anglicans, only a remnant, the “Non-Jurors,” were prepared to stand by their principles of Sacred Kingship.

THE RITUAL TRADITION

Even if we go down to the least details Of the history of the English Catholics, we find the same feature of a clinging to the national traditions. The ancient “Uses” of England in the matter of rites and festivals had varied through the country in the Middle Ages. The “Sarum” (Salisbury) use was general in the South, but in the North and West there were others, as well as “customs” observed in certain dioceses from the old days. In times of persecution it was well-nigh impossible for migrant priests, trained abroad in the Roman rite and harried to and fro over the land, to continue to observe these local varieties of “Use”; yet they were upheld in principle for long, and only abandoned when the prospect of restoration of settled parish life was seen to be hopeless.

THE CONTINULTY OF RELIGIOUS ORDERS

The continuity of the hierarchy was broken, as we have seen, by the failure to consecrate titular Catholic Bishops to replace those of Queen Mary at their deaths, but the same was not always true of the religious Orders. Several of the English Catholic Orders of our time possess unbroken continuity with those of the Middle Ages others only died out some time after the establishment of the new Protestant Church.

Thus, a remnant of the Carthusians, whose house, founded in 1412, was suppressed by Henry VIII, had fled overseas. They returned, under Queen Mary, to Sheen, but emigrated again after Elizabeth’s accession.

They retained their identity as a separate group in the Charterhouse at Bruges, and eventually founded a house of their own, “Sheen Anglorum,” whose Prior bore the old title. This house, finally settled at Nieuport, continued until its dissolution under the Emperor Joseph II in 1783; the last of the old line of English Carthusians died in 1821.

The Bridgettines of Syon, whose house was founded in 1415, still remain, having an unbroken tradition of more than 500 years. The English Benedictines possess continuity with the old Abbey of Westminster, built by King Edward the Confessor-one survivor, Dom Buckley, having handed on the heritage to the reestablished congregation in 1607. The Franciscans, who maintained a ‘hidden” province in England until 1614, continued their line in the same way through Father Stanney, who gave the habit to Jennings, the founder of the Second Province at Ypres.

The witness of a continuous tradition in these instances, and the revival of other English Orders abroad in the seventeenth century, is sufficient to expose the falseness of the claim made for modern Anglican groups bearing the traditional names that they are “reviving” the religious life of old England.

HOW ENGLAND WAS CHANGED

I have written enough to show the falseness of the view that the modern Catholic Church is a mere “Italian Mission” without any link with the historic tradition of the English-speaking world. I have sufficiently indicated the attitude of the Elizabethan Church towards the Mass, the priesthood, Catholic doctrine and devotions, to prove that between Mary’s Cardinal Pole and Elizabeth’s Archbishop Parker there is a great gulf fixed which no theory of continuity can traverse. The English were finally dragooned and propagandised into accepting Protestantism-though the authority of the Queen’s political Church never secured the unanimous assent even of Protestants. The methods of terrorism and pressure by which the change was achieved bear a striking resemblance to those which have been employed, in our own time, in order to destroy the faith and transform the outlook of great masses of people, by the Nazi and Communist regimes. The resources of despotic government were smaller in those days, however, and its means for imposing its will less effectual; so that the process was long and difficult, taking more than a century to complete.

Acts of Parliament and Royal decrees created new formularies and enforced their acceptance, as a test of loyalty, under pain of drastic penalties which were continually increased. Measures were taken to make it impossible to secure Catholic education, whether at home or abroad, and to prevent the training and introduction of priests into the country. Catholics were constantly harried and subjected to brutalities; they were driven from public life, excluded from political office, economically ruined by fines and confiscation’s. Their clergy were imprisoned, tortured and slain. Like the Soviet Union, again, the English Government was adept at fostering dissension and schismatical movements among those loyal to the Church, so as to set Catholic against Catholic. At last, the Faith was so far crushed out that even its memory was a sinister shadow in eighteenth century parishes. It remained for men of the next age to assert that “English Catholicism” and Anglicanism were the same-that the new Communion was the equivalent of the Mass which had been so bloodily suppressed; and to refuse the name of “English Catholics” to the sturdy remnant which had survived the storms of persecution, and the converts who had rallied to the Faith of their remote ancestors.

THE PRINCES IN THE TOWER

Some years ago, a controversy arose as to the right of the Anglican clergy to assume charge of the bodies of the young princes murdered by King Richard III, which were discovered in the Tower of London. Edward V and his brother were committed to the grave with Anglican ceremonies; but can anyone seriously doubt as to which Church, Anglican or “Roman,” they would have recognised as the “English Church” of 1483, the year of their tragic end? The Archbishop of Canterbury at that time was Cardinal Bourchier, who had received his pallium of office, as well as the sacred Purple, from the Pope, and he, with the whole bench of English Bishops, had sworn allegiance, in ancient set form, to the Holy See. The Seven Sacraments, the Sacrifice of the Mass, and the other Catholic doctrines had been clearly taught from infancy to the unhappy sons of Edward IV; they were accustomed to pray to Our Lady and to their patron saints, to revere holy images and relics, and the shrines of the saints. Such was the faith of Englishmen-a Faith whose public denial was heresy, punishable by death under the secular law as a crime against society. Yes-and the very ruffian who killed the children had sworn in his Coronation oath, to observe the rights and liberties of the Church so constituted. The new Church has usurped the bodies of the princes as it usurped the temporalities and shrines of the old “Ecclesia Anglicana” but it has no shadow of valid claim to either.

WESTMINSTER AND CANTERBURY

What is the position of the Catholic hierarchy in England today? What are the claims of Archbishop Fisher and Cardinal Griffin respectively to the heritage of St. Augustine? Dr. Fisher has the old title, the Cathedral and its property, the Palace at Lambeth. But these are mere external, legal trappings. The spiritual authority of the ancient Catholic Archbishops was obtained from the Holy See, symbolised by the grant of the ‘‘pallium’’; they swore allegiance to the Pope, and bound themselves to every detail of the Roman creed as the standard of orthodoxy-and so it had been since St. Gregory first sent St. Augustine to the shores of Kent. They even held the title of “Legatus natus” as permanent representatives of the Papacy in England. It was in virtue of this spiritual power that they ruled the old English Church. Clerical temporalities-for which they owed duty to the King-might be, and sometimes were, held by laymen. In virtue of these they were Barons and Lords in Parliament. Cardinal Griffin professes the Faith of Augustine, of Lanfranc, of Langton, of Bourehier, of Pole, the present Archbishop of Canterbury could not possibly accept that Faith without renouncing the Articles and Prayer book to which his ministry binds him, and the official supremacy of the King as governor of the Church. The Cardinal has, like St. Augustine and his successors, the Roman pallium as a symbol of his allegiance, like them, he has been ordained and consecrated according to the ancient sacerdotal ritual of the West.

This is the substance of the Catholic claim that its modern episcopate, in England and the English -speaking world of English Christianity are inheritors of the lawful hierarchical tradition of the ancient Church of the English. The present Catholic hierarchy of England, and the hierarchies of the English-speaking Dominions, owe their origin to the same Papacy which erected Canterbury and York and the old English Sees: these Bishops profess the same faith, and exercise their office under the same obedience, as the Bishops who reigned in England before the changes of the sixteenth century.

“YE KNOW NOT WHAT”

In conclusion, we make reflect that the most striking difference between the ancient Catholic “Ecclesia Anglicana” and the new Anglicanism is expressed in the contrast drawn by Our Lord Himself between Jerusalem and Samaria, whose “patriotic” assertion of a separatist claim has an interesting resemblance to the Anglican attitude. In the King James version the text runs: “Ye worship ye know not what: we know we worship; for salvation is of the Jews.”

The ancient Catholic “Ecclesia Anglicana’’ shows the utmost clarity and definiteness in doctrine and loyalties -it is intolerant of division and heresy of every kind. On the contrary, ambiguity and evasion have been the notes of official Anglican teaching from the days of Elizabeth on. The Church of England has shown itself to be incapable either of defining its Faith with clarity or of dealing with those who deny fundamental Christian doctrines from positions of authority in the Church itself. It is a prey to irreconcilable dogmatic and disciplinary confusion, for which some of its adherents attempt to console themselves by glorying in its “tolerance” and “comprehensiveness.” This very contradiction of character is a refutation of its claim to be the inheritor of the spiritual tradition of the old religion.

Yet, let us remember that Our Lord loved the Samaritans, even while condemning their errors; and that He often held them up as an example to the cold ingratitude of Israel. For this, too, has a meaning for us.

********

Anglicans Anonymous

JOSEPH CHRISTIE, S.J

INDEX

IN HIS Presidential Address at the meeting of the Convocation of Canterbury on the 14th October, 1953, the Archbishop of Canterbury mentioned a booklet entitled Infallible Fallacies.*

He said, ‘In this new booklet our people will find a reply, brief but effective, courteous and quickly read, and cheap, to some of the arguments of Roman Catholic propaganda.’

Later in the same month another attack on the Catholic Church appeared in a booklet entitledThe Pope’s Men. **

At the end of the booklet Infallible Fallacies the fear is expressed that we who are under attack may think that this monumental essay is anti-Catholic. I do not think that is likely. It is necessary to know something about Catholicism before attacking it. This booklet is in fact much more a revelation of the unhappy divisions that exist amongst Protestants than of anything else. It has been suggested, and the scholarship of the booklet confirms the impression, that this is an old work resurrected from a pigeon hole. Certainly, it has a musty smell. The question is, why has it been produced now ?

In any age the effects of schism and heresy are much the same. Curious beliefs grow up amongst the groups unhappily separated from the parent body for the simple reason that religion tends to be odd in its manifestations when unaided human mind takes the place of divine guidance. Only the help of the Holy Spirit, freely given to those who adhere to the visible Church founded by Christ, prevents oddity from developing into a universal characteristic.

It has long been obvious to the sympathetic observer that Protestants are struggling with adversity. For years it has been an open scandal that many clerics within the establishment have little or no idea of what orthodox doctrine is. At the same time, nobody, as far as we can see, has the power to stop the rot. Such a situation, coupled with the fact that Protestantism is dying in this country, is bound to cause great alarm and despondency.

There is always a tendency where paganism is rampant to urge Christians to sink their differences, not because it is a good thing for Christians to love one another, but because differences do not matter and can be made bargaining points. Conscious of her divine mission to teach truth, the Catholic Church can never associate herself with such disloyalty to Christ. Protestants, on the other hand, hazy about the divinity of Christ and knowing that their Churches are human in origin, regard the Catholic attitude as intransigent. It is hard for them not to yield to the temptation to gain strength by minimizing difference and emphasizing a mere shop-window unity. There is one bond of union which might act as an antidote to the divisions inherent in heresy and scbism-dislike of the old Faith. It is a desperate remedy for a desperate situation carrying with it all sorts of dangerous possibilities. If any attempt should be made to introduce into this country an equivalent of the South India Scheme the loss could easily be as great as the gain. It is unlikely that the attempt to maintain unity through disapproval of the Catholic Church will work. Religion does not thrive on negatives. But the difficulties Protestants have to face make the almost simultaneous appearance of two booklets attacking the Catholic Church more than a mere coincidence. What the outcome will be, it is difficult to foretell. Many will continue to join the Catholic Church, many will continue to drift into the prevalent agnosticism, while the residue, no doubt, will write more booklets like Infallible Fallacies andThe Pope’s Men. All that we can do is pray for those concerned since to them it must be a heartbreaking business.

CHARGES MUST BE ANSWERED

AT the same time, charges have been made which must be answered. This, the unknown pamphleteers, I have not the slightest doubt, would be the first to admit. They view their work, as also does Dr Micklem, with confessed distaste. So do we. The barbarian is knocking at the gates and since it is at our gate he always knocks first and most fiercely, we would like to be left alone to deal with him. Our attention to this unexpected distraction must be brief, friendly, but firm.

* Infallible Fallacies: An Anglican Reply to Roman Catholic Arguments, by some Priests of the Anglican Communion. (S.P.C.K., )

** The Pope’s Men, by Nathaniel Micklem. (Independent Press, )

It is true that we are in general very friendly towards Protestants. Our task is to put forward the arguments for the historic Faith with rancour to none. This is done with skill and devotion by cradle and convert Catholics alike. It was the New Statesman and Nation which remarked some years ago that the most skilled pens in England were writing for the Catholic Church. I think they are, but I do not expect things to be anything different. At the same time it must be remarked that there is a difference between attacking those with whom you disagree and merely putting forth your own point of view. We must leave it to the public to judge but I submit that Catholic writing in the last fifty years has not been aggressive. Readers who are interested in this point may easily study any catalogue of Catholic books or the shelves of Catholic bookshops. It is symptomatic of the failings that afflict erastian and heretic bodies that they find in a clear statement of truth a form of attack upon themselves. The spirit of the age in which we live regards clear thought as a form of dogmatic reaction. The Church of Christ is above the shortcomings of the Bloomsbury mentality and only a Church cut off from the power of the Holy Spirit would allow itself to be influenced by a fashion of thought which is of its nature temporary and already out of date on the Continent.

The authors say that they would like to see a united Church enriched by the thought and experience of Canterbury and Rome. We must say in all charity. that to be enriched by the unhappy experience of Canterbury is to wish to leave it alone. The only experience of Canterbury that any Catholic can cherish is that of our very great St Thomas who died to avoid the evils of a State Church.

ROMAN AND PROUD OF IT

IT simply is not true that we are upset when we are referred to as Roman. Why should we be ashamed of St Irenaeus and St Ignatius of Antioch, ancient Bishops both, who directed our love and reverence towards Rome? We are by character and education traditionalists. From our cradles we have always respected our ancestors as they were people who never hesitated to glory in the name of Protestant. It is not we who have gone back on the Reformation. The basic difference was always between Catholic and Protestant. Since the Reformation the distinction remained clear until Newman upset the applecart. The Tudor Queen Elizabeth, as a Catholic writer has recently pointed out in the Catholic press, always referred to Catholics and Protestants. What is all the fuss about? Are these people ashamed of their belongings ? Sometimes they forget that they are talking to Irish, Scots, Welsh, and to Nonconformists. Are they trying to tell the Irish that the men who imposed the horrible penal code upon them after the Treaty of Limerick were Catholics? That is not funny, it is bad taste. Too much real suffering is associated with the Reformation for that sort of culpable confusion to be excusable.

Then they go on to tell us that we ought not to carry the Mass into areas where the Anglican community already exercises its influence. We are charged by the good God to carry the Holy Mass into the four corners of the earth. The Mass is the sacrifice of the New Law and we who are the priests of that law have to say it and plant the Church everywhere. Are we any different from the St Augustine, our father, who. brought the Mass to England? My own experience has always been that wherever the Catholic Church opens a tin but for the offering of the sacrifice it is crowded by people within a few weeks of its inception. We do not so much bring the Mass as follow it. That is to say the Mass is in the hearts of men and women scattered all over the fair land of England. We take any spot that is convenient, open a room in a public house or hire a barn, and they are there in their hundreds.

BAPTISM

NOR is it any less nonsense to complain that we cavil about the Baptism of the Protestant Church. What does the Protestant Church believe about this vital sacrament and how does it administer it? Enough has been written and said by modern Churchmen to leave us wondering. The main office of the Church of Christ is to guard these holy things. Clearly, the belief, or disbelief, of Protestants in the efficacy of baptism does not affect the validity of the Sacrament they administer. But if those who have departed from the See of the Apostles deny, as they undoubtedly have done, the full significance of this Sacrament, and vary seriously in its administration, then their exact observance of the rite instituted by Christ is open to the gravest suspicion and we who are charged to keep it sacred must take it as our solemn duty to administer it again under condition. It is my own practice to receive into the Catholic Church an average of fifteen converts in any year. Never have I known one who has not asked for the Sacrament of Baptism to be administered again conditionally. This is not a charge against the Catholic Church. It is a reflection on the slackness in doctrine and discipline characteristic of the Protestant Churches. Things have changed since the days of that great and distinguished convert Cardinal Manning. No doubt he knew enough about Anglicans to reverence their belief in Baptism but he would not say the same to-day.

It is difficult to understand what all this indignation about the Bishop of Southwark’s reference to the Tudor Queen Elizabeth means. She was an unsavoury character and the Bishop did not do more than quote that good Protestant historian Cobbett who loved the Church of England but was objective enough to know that the Reformation was an evil thing carried out in an evil way. Like the good man he was, Cobbett did not hesitate to say so.

CHRISTIAN MARRIAGE

A LARGE part of my time is spent in upholding Protestant marriages. Our doctrine is that when Protestants marry in their own churches or in registry offices the marriages are binding and valid until the contrary is proved. Catholics must marry in the Church before a priest and two witnesses. All that is perfectly clear. Sometimes Protestants come to me and ask if their marriages will be declared null and void in the event of their entering the Catholic Church. This is often because the wish to enter the Church has been fathered by the intention to contract a new alliance with a Catholic.

They are generally surprised to hear that the Catholic Church regards their first marriage as valid and expects them to abide by it. Any confusion in this matter is not our fault because the teaching of the Church has always been quite clear. At the same time there have been indications recently that not all Anglicans are prepared to stand by the awkward consequences of defending the sacrament of marriage in a pagan society.What precisely is meant by ‘the law of reason yielding to the law of charity’ nobody knows, unless it means that what is understood to be wrong may be permitted because virtue is painful. This is ‘aspirin Christianity.’

There is a suggestion in the booklet that the Catholic Church by multiplying the reasons for nullity, manages to avoid the consequences of her teaching on divorce. She has her wedding cake and eats it. This is worse than aspirin Christianity, it is gossip Christianity. There has been no alteration in the Catholic nullity laws, and those cases which have caused public discussion have been fully described in an excellent book on nullity by Frank Sheed. If anything the practice of the Church has grown more strict as the attack upon marriage has developed. But anyone who cares to investigate the question will find an abundance of literature explaining the position of the Catholic Church in this matter. It would have been more impressive if the authors of the booklet had taken the trouble to read Fr Davis* on this subject after they had mis-read him on the subject of the marriages of Catholics in Protestant churches.

ANGLICAN ORDERS

With certain Protestants the subject of the validity of Anglican Orders is a sore point. It is important to note that those amongst them who wish to be regarded as priests in the Catholic sense are not so numerous as their protests would suggest. It is largely a confusion about words.

The Catholic Church ordains priests to offer the sacrifice of the Mass. When the Reformation took place in England the new Church retained the old title of priest but went to extraordinary lengths to abolish the Mass. Men were killed for saying Mass and men and women were persecuted for hearing it. When the Reformers went to the trouble of changing the ordinals they must have had a motive for doing so. History makes that motive more than obvious. The altars were destroyed and the Mass was proscribed. No one can deny this: it is part of the story of England. In the Thirty-nine Articles, Masses are described as ‘blasphemous fables and dangerous deceits.’

* Moral and Pastoral Theology: A Summary, by Henry Davis S.J. (Sheed and Ward).

It is not we, as the booklet suggests, who ascribe bastardy to the Anglican Church. To go back on the destruction of the Mass is to go back on the Reformation. The Anglican who calls himself a priest in the Catholic sense repudiates the mother who gave him birth. As long as that sort of thing goes on it will be impossible to make an honest woman of the Ecclesia Anglicans. Nor are we alone in thinking this. In a series of capable articles written by members of the Catholic Missionary Society for the Catholic Press of October 23rd, 1953, relevant quotations are given from Protestant writers and Bishops of the Establishment which clearly demonstrate that they agree with us about this and not with their embarrassing colleagues.

None of us thinks that those who would be posthumously priested are dishonest. Their trouble is that their ancestors did not have to die and suffer for the Mass. We are sprung from the stock of persecuted men and women and such is our history that confusion about the nature of the priesthood and the Mass becomes impossible. We have clung to the Mass for centuries and had we not done so, this particular section of the Protestant Church would probably never have thought of claiming the right to offer it. We are happy that there are Protestants who have come to love what the Reformation repudiated but they must have the courage of their convictions. If they wish to say Mass, they must receive the necessary orders and that can only be done by returning to the Church of their ancestors. If their claim to be priests in the historic sense is true then there are no orders and there never was a priesthood validly ordained to offer the sacrifice. To say that the Established Church never repudiated the sacrifice of the Mass is to make nonsense of the history of England, of everything represented by Tyburn, Padley and other holy places.

Fr Ripley writing in the Catholic Times of October 23rdquotes from an Anglican author’s book, The Book of Common Prayer, which has a preface by the Bishop of Sodor and Man. The quotation adequately sums up what Catholics have always maintained: ‘The most important of these [the changes made by the ordinal of 1552] is the re-definition of the function of the priest. . . . All sacerdotal language is removed. The Anglican priest is a presbyter, not a sacrificing priest.’ Fr Ripley further quotes Bishop Knox as writing in 1925 of Anglican masses as ‘so-called masses.’ There is no need to labour this point further. The literature of the . . . deals fully with the subject and with greater scholarship than the authors of this booklet display.

At the close of its discussion of Anglican Orders the booklet suggests that Pope Leo XIII was either ignorant of the Preface of the English Ordinal or too dishonest to refer to it. The Preface says that the intention of the ordinal is to return to apostolic usage when ordaining priests. The implication is that something contrary to the teaching of our Lord had crept into the Church which the ordinal proposed to expurgate. That could only mean the expurgation of what the Thirty-nine Articles refer to as the ‘blasphemous fables of Masses.’ The Pope must have read the Preface and found it evidence in favour of his decision that Anglican Orders are invalid. Although the authors of this booklet appear to have forgotten this, there is evidence in abundance of the mind of the men who set out to change the English religion. It was Bishop Ridley, successor of Bishop Bonner, who pulled down the high altar of St Paul’s while he ordered his clergy ‘to use only the ceremonies and gestures in the Book of Common Prayer and none other, so that there do not appear in them any counterfeiting of the Popish Mass.’

The authors of Infallible Fallacies make much of the fact that Cardinal Pole re-ordained only 13 of those who had been ordained according to the revised ordinals. Cardinal Pole’s behaviour was not very curious. He had to deal with 112 ordinations. Of these, 71 were cases of men who had been made deacons. Of the remaining 41 cases, 13 were re-ordained, and there is no record of the remaining 28 practising as priests. From the Cardinal’s general policy in relation to married clergy it can safely be inferred that these men were unwilling to leave their wives and submit themselves to ordination.

If, as is suggested, the disputed ordinals represent an unbroken tradition, it is curious that there is no record of any Anglican protest against the slaughter of men who were ordained in the rite they claim to possess. Had they regarded themselves as satisfactory priests, they would have seen in the persecution of Catholic priests an attack upon themselves. The truth is that the Anglican clergy were protestant and repudiated the Mass.

THE SEE OF PETER

AFTER the discussion of Anglican Orders, Infallible Fallacies begins to drag a tail as long as that of a bad cricket eleven. All the old arguments against the supremacy of the See of St Peter are produced once more. The point which is missed is that if orthodox Catholics are wrong about the supremacy of the Popes, so were English Christians before the Reformation. Modern historical research has revealed beyond a shadow of doubt that the English Church was in full obedience to, and in communion with, Rome and that the Canon Law of the universal Church held sway throughout the land. Bishops and Archbishops received their authority from Rome. That is why so much persecution was necessary to tear the English people away from their long allegiance to the Pope. Anglicans really ought to make up their minds about their position in this matter. Either they are good Protestants who consider that the allegiance of the English Church to Rome was wrong, or they regret what happened at the Reformation and desire to renew the old practice of asking the Pope to confirm, as he always did, the appointment of the Archbishop of Canterbury. Some of them have sat upon the fence so long that the iron has entered into their souls and made them bitter.

Whatever the reason for their confusion may be, they ought to realize that their attitude creates a bad impression amongst Catholics and non-Catholics alike. The authors appear to have grasped the significance of their false position and assert that they are not the heirs of St Augustine but of an older Church which was seduced by Rome in the sixth century. That being so, the present Archbishop of Canterbury is not, on their showing, the occupant of the ancient see of Augustine and they have to prove that the British Church (their mother) was not in communion with Rome. We must leave them to extricate themselves from this tangled skein of history. But it is all very confusing. The only people who gain anything from this are the Scots who can now insist with some point that the Anglicans should refer to themselves in future as British.

POPE JOAN AND MARIA MONK

USUALLY there is something charming to be found in one’s adversaries. The assertion which these writers make that the great Church is in schism from them is quite delightful. It reminds me of the story told by Mr Douglas Woodruff of the elephant and the mouse. ‘You are very small,’ said the elephant. ‘Yes, I know,’ replied the mouse, ‘ but I have been unwell lately.’ Still it was nice of them to think of it and it introduces a smile into a distasteful controversy. Without doubt the Continent has been cut off by fog. Into the category of old family favourites we can, I think, place the friendly suggestion that indulgences are sold for a huge profit and the curious idea that Catholic priests engage in a sort of spiritual Burke and Hare activity. (Cf. Punch of October 28th, 1953.) If the first were true then most of us would stand accused of neglecting a glorious financial opportunity. We have our faults, but we are not slow on the uptake where money is concerned. As for kidnapping dying Protestants under the very noses of nurses and doctors, we clergy owe the authors a vote of thanks. So often the laity complain that we do not visit them enough. Sometimes one is hard put for an explanation. What we have been needing for years was the introduction of a little variety into the rather stodgy list of lame excuses. Here is a pastoral exchange of no little value. Thanks to our unknown Protestant friends, all we have to do is look knowingly at the laity and nod towards the hospital. They being naturally and (what is worse) supernaturally dishonest, will be thrilled. It is unfortunate that these charges should have been introduced into what is a delicate relationship. Its only effect has been to embarrass the clergy and, what is worse, the sick. The Universe has conducted an enquiry into this accusation, and evidence of its truth has not yet appeared.

My only grumble about all this is the lack of gallantry displayed in the booklet. In a revivalist gathering such as this, more ancient than modern, those two charming ladies Pope Joan and Maria Monk, should not have been omitted. We Catholics have a great sense of tradition and that type of carelessness offends our sense of what is fitting. If there is to be a reprint of Infallible Fallacies may I, on behalf of thousands of disappointed Catholics, ask for the rehabilitation of these two injured women who have done so much in the past for the Evangelical cause and the destruction of Rome. THEOLOGICAL ANAEMIA,

ONE of the most disastrous effects of the Reformation has been the almost complete loss amongst Protestants of any conception of what the Church of Christ is meant to do beyond avoiding trouble with the mentality current in any given age. Christ and His Church are one. What Our Lord taught remains indefectible but it ought to be studied and prayed about so that each generation regards it as a glory to add greater insight into the truths handed down. Unless the Church can do this the only effect of the years will be a loss of vitality. It is a commonplace that the Catholic Church renews herself in every age, while the progress of history has seen the decay of Protestantism. It is the difference between theological anaemia and the development of doctrine. That is why it is so unnecessary for Catholics to proselytise amongst Protestants.

Modernism is a form of theological anemia which leads to the whittling down of the revelation of Christ and ends in querying whether He is God or not. Dr Micklem in his booklet attacking the Catholic Church gives an entertaining example of that. He describes a glorious Catholic High Mass in Hungary on Easter Sunday where everyone concerned seemed to be declaring from a full heart that Christ is risen indeed, as compared with a Non-conformist service at which the preacher remarked that ‘Prima facie, my brethren, the Resurrection presents us with a problem.’ Neither he nor his Anglican friends seem to realize that they are illustrating in fact what Catholic writers have always asserted to be the effects of schism and heresy. Cut off from the main stem, the branch decays. It is a serious failure on the part of Protestants that they do not appear to have understood the full effect of watered-down Christianity on the British people. Dr Micklem suggests that the Catholic Church produces atheism in some countries, but there has been no greater cause of it here than the failure of Protestantism to stand up firmly to modern errors.

The authors of the booklet Infallible Fallacies ought to have studied the theory of the development of doctrine and to have known how strong the case is for the theological teaching of the Catholic Church on such subjects as the Papacy and our Lady. It is a far cry from Dr Jalland to this sort of thing. But the root of the difficulty is that they have not sufficient confidence in the power of God to realize that He guides His Church. The individual claims inspiration for himself but will not allow it for the corporate body. The result is doctrinal chaos. Dr Micklem describes the Nicene Creed as a man-made document already out of date. Infallible Fallacies asserts on one page that the ‘Roman Church is a true part of the Catholic Church’ and on another proceeds to accuse her of the gravest possible heresies. This is to make nonsense of the whole business and vitiates everything the booklet sets out to prove. If it is true, the claim of the Anglican Church has no meaning. What Anglicans are saying is, ‘ We are as much a part of the Church of Christ as you are, but you are, in fact, quite wrong.’ Then we are both wrong and the agnostic has won the day.

‘THE POPE’S MEN’

TURNING for a mo ment to Dr Micklem’s booklet, The Pope’s Men, I am reminded of Maria Teresa, the Empress of Austria in the eighteenth century. She found herself confronted with the determination of Russia and Prussia to partition Poland. Rather than be left out of the spoliation and endangered thereby, she determined, against her conscience, to join it. Frederick of Prussia grimly remarked that, although she wept she did not hesitate to take. Dr Micklem confesses his distaste at having to start this trouble but he gets on with it nevertheless. His booklet is almost as muddled as that of his anonymous compeers.

The standard of theological discussion is bewildering. For example, he points out that Catholic theologians explain the doctrine of the presence of our Blessed Lord in the Eucharist by the theory of Transubstantiation, and then goes on to say that the ordinary laity are content to believe that our Lord is truly present. That is what those theologians also believe. Then he goes on to argue that Catholic theologians are quite clear about devotion to our Lady as distinct from the common belief which is that our Lady is a goddess. So the very opposite happens in the case of a doctrine much easier to understand than that of Transubstantiation. In the first case the people get it right, in the second they do not. In neither case is the question of the guidance and help of God introduced, nor any explanation of this curious alternation between cleverness and stupidity offered. It is, of course, like nonconformity itself, an entirely subjective judgement.

I hope I am not unfair to Dr Micklem when I say that his booklet reflects a mind in a very confused state. We are saints and sinners, bible haters and bible lovers, democrats and totalitarians: the Doctor’s right mind just does not know what his wrong mind is thinking.

The sturdy Catholics of Quebec can, I think, look after themselves and, probably, care very little what English Nonconformists think about them, but it is doubtful whether they would regard our civilization as the unmixed blessing Dr Micklem considers it to be. His views on reactionary Catholics bring back all the fun that Chesterton poked in his glorious poem on Heckmondwike. The citizens of Quebec are longing, I suppose, to read the Sunday Dispatch on the Kinsey report and have become dissatisfied with Canada after reading Rowntree on the morals of the English people. I hope I love my own country but it is carrying insularity too far to think that we possess advantages over pastoral peoples, who say their prayers, quite so striking as the author ofThe Pope’s Men seems to think.

Dr Micklem is unfair when he does no more than acknowledge the tolerance of the Irish. Even a cursory reading of Irish history would prove that the present constitution of Eire is one of the greatest triumphs of toleration known in the modern world. Mention ought also to have been made of the distinguished group of Catholic European statesmen whose efforts and mutual understanding have kept the enemies of civilization at bay since the war. Our debt to them is great indeed and ought to be acknowledged.

There are dark hints in plenty about Catholics, up and down the world, who persecute Protestants. Here one must ask for more definite facts. When they are forthcoming, it should be possible to investigate them.

The question of toleration is more complicated than Dr Micklem suggests. Our own government, for example, would hesitate to allow full freedom to Nazi propaganda in Germany. That is to say, we ourselves are not entirely tolerant. A line has to be drawn. Famous writers like Mr Maritain have made contributions to this difficult problem and it is a disappointment that so distinguished a thinker as Dr. Micklem has failed to offer any help whatever.

The general thesis ofThe Pope’s Men is that the Catholic Church is both wicked and saintly at the same time. As a rule the two qualities are mutually exclusive. Faced with such a contradiction it would have been wiser of Dr Micklem to have said that the Catholic Church is to him an enigma about which judgement must be reserved.

Whatever the motive behind this dual attack, good will emerge from it. We have been asked to state our position clearly and have done so. It is better for us that it should have come about that way. There have been hard blows without hard feelings and the onlooker will judge for himself.

********

Answers To 25 Questions On The History of The New Testament

WHICH COMPLETELY REFUTE THE “BIBLE ONLY” THEORY

BY A CATHOLIC EVANGELIST

INDEX

(1953)

This booklet recalls how Christ’s Church existed 350 years before the New Testament was under one cover and over 1400 years before it could be printed; which completely refutes the “Bible Only” theory of today’s sects. Meanwhile the Protestant Bible itself proves the marks, attributes and basic doctrines of the ancient one-faith-foldshepherd Church of Christ-as shown herein.

(Published with Ecclesiastical Authority)

QUESTION ONE

Did Our Lord write any part of the New Testament or command His Apostles to do so?

Our Lord Himself never wrote a line, nor is there any record that He ordered his Apostles to write; He did command them to teach and to preach. Also He to Whom all power was given in Heaven and on earth (Matt. 28:18) promised to give them the Holy Spirit (John 14:26) and to be with them Himself till the end of the world (Mat. 28:20). COMMENT: If reading the Bible were a necessary means of salvation, Our Lord would have made that statement and also provided the necessary means for his followers.

QUESTION TWO

How many of the Apostles or others actually wrote what is now in the New Testament?

A few of the Apostles wrote part of Our Lord’s teachings, as they themselves expressly stated; i.e., Peter, Paul,

James, John, Jude, Matthew, also Sts. Mark and Luke. None of the others wrote anything, so far as is recorded. COMMENT: If the Bible privately interpreted was to be a Divine rule of Faith, the apostles would have been derelict in their duty when instead, some of them adopted preaching only.

QUESTION THREE

Was it a teaching or a Bible-reading Church that Christ founded?

The Protestant Bible expressly states that Christ founded a teaching Church, which existed before any of the New

Testament books were written.

Rom. 10:17:- So then faith cometh by HEARING, and hearing by the word of God.

Matt. 28:19:- Go ye therefore and TEACH all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost.

Mark. 16:20:- And they went forth, and PREACHED everywhere the Lord working with them, and confirming the word with signs following. Amen.

Mark 16:15:- And he said unto them, Go ye into all the world and PREACH the gospel to every creature.

COMMENT: Thus falls the entire basis of the “Bible-only” theory

QUESTION FOUR

Was there any drastic difference between what Our Lord commanded the Apostles to teach and what the New Testament contains?

Our Lord commanded his Apostles to teach all things whatsoever He had commanded; (Matt. 28:20); his Church must necessarily teach everything; (John 14:26); however, the Protestant Bible itself teaches that the Bible does not contain all of Our Lord’s doctrines:

John 20:30:- And many other signs truly did Jesus in the presence of his disciples, which are not written in this book, etc.

John 21:25:- And there are also many other things which Jesus did, the which, if they should be written every one, I suppose that even the world itself could not contain the books that should be written. Amen.

COMMENT: How would it have been possible for second century Christians to practice Our Lord’s religion, if private interpretation of an unavailable and only partial account of Christ’s teaching were indispensable?

QUESTION FIVE

Does the New Testament expressly refer to Christ’s “unwritten word”?

The New Testament itself teaches that it does not contain all that Our Lord did or, consequently, all that He taught.

John 20:30: And many other signs truly did Jesus in the presence of his disciples, which are not written in this book, etc.

John 21:25:- And there are also many other things which Jesus did, the which, if they should be written everyone, I suppose that even the world itself could not contain the books that should be written Amen.

COMMENT: Since the Bible is incomplete, it needs something else to supplement it; i.e., the spoken or historically recorded word which we call Tradition.

QUESTION SIX

What became of the unwritten truths which Our Lord and the Apostles taught?

The Church has carefully conserved this “word of mouth” teaching by historical records called Tradition. Even the

Protestant Bible teaches that many Christian truths were to be handed down by word of mouth. 2 Thes. 2:15:- Therefore, brethren, stand fast, and hold the traditions which ye have been taught, whether by word, or our epistle.

2 Tim. 2:2:- And the things that thou hast heard of me among many witnesses, the same commit thou to faithful men, who shall be able to teach others also.

COMMENT: Hence not only Scripture but other sources of information must be consulted to get the whole of

Christ’s teaching. Religions founded on “the Bible only” are therefore necessarily incomplete.

QUESTION SEVEN

Between what years were the first and last books of the New Testament written?

This first book, St. Matthew’s Gospel, was not written until about ten years after Our Lord’s Ascension. (Saint

Paul’s letters to the Galatians, about 49 A. D., and to the Thessalonians, about 50 A.D., were his first writings, and Saint James’ letter is from about 50 A.D. St. John’s fourth gospel and Apocalypse or Book of Revelations were not written until about 100 A. D.

COMMENT: Imagine how the present-day privately interpreted “Bible-only” theory would have appeared at a time when the books of the New Testament were not only unavailable, but most of them had not yet been written.

QUESTION EIGHT

When was the New Testament placed under one cover?

In 397 A. D. by the Council of Carthage, from which it follows that non-Catholics have derived their New

Testament from the Catholic Church; no other source was available.

COMMENT: Up to 397 A. D., some of the Christians had access to part of the New Testament; into this situation, how would the “Bible-only privately interpreted” theory have fitted?

QUESTION NINE

Why so much delay in compiling the New Testament?

Prior to 397 A. D., the various books of the New Testament were not under one cover, but were in the custody of different groups or congregations. The persecutions against the Church, which had gained new intensity, prevented these New Testament books from being properly authenticated and placed under one cover. However, this important work was begun after Constantine gave peace to Christianity in 313 A.D., allowing it to be practiced in the Roman Empire.

COMMENT: This again shows how utterly impossible was the “Bible-only” theory, at least up to 400 A. D.

QUESTION TEN

What other problem confronted those who wished to determine the contents of the New Testament? Before the inspired books were recognized as such, many other books had been written and by many were thought to be inspired; hence the Catholic Church made a thorough examination of the whole question; biblical scholars spent years in the Holy Land studying the original languages of New Testament writings.

COMMENT: According to the present-day “Bible-only” theory, in the above circumstances, it would also have been necessary for early Christians to read all the doubtful books and, by interior illumination, judge which were and which were not divinely inspired.

QUESTION ELEVEN

Who finally did decide which books were inspired and therefore belonged to the New Testament? Shortly before 400 A. D. a Council of the Catholic Church, (whose decisions were ratified by the Bishop of Rome, the successor of Saint Peter, the Pope,) using the infallible authority which Christ had given to his own divine institution, finally decided which books really belonged to the New Testament and which did not.

Either the Church at this Council was infallible, or it was not. If the Church was infallible then, why is it not infallible now? If the Church was not infallible then, in that case the New Testament is not worth the paper it is written on, because internal evidences of authenticity and inspiration are inconclusive and because the work of this Council cannot now be rechecked; this is obvious from the reply to next question.

COMMENT: In view of these historical facts, it is difficult to see how non-Catholics can deny that it was from the (Roman) Catholic Church that they received the New Testament.

QUESTION TWELVE

Why is it impossible for modern non-Catholics to check over the work done by the Church previous to 400 A. D.? The original writings were on frail material called papyrus, which had but temporary enduring qualities. While the books judged to be inspired by the Catholic Church were carefully copied by her monks, those rejected at that time were allowed to disintegrate, for lack of further interest in them.

COMMENT: What then is left for non-Catholics, except to trust the Catholic Church to have acted under divine inspiration; if at that time, why not now?

QUESTION THIRTEEN

Would the theory of private interpretation of the New Testament have been possible for the year 400 A. D.? No, because, as already stated, no New Testament as such was in existence.

COMMENT: If our non-Catholic brethren today had no Bibles, how could they even imagine following the “Bibleonly privately interpreted” theory; but before 400 A. D., New Testaments were altogether unavailable.

QUESTION FOURTEEN

Would the private interpretation theory have been possible between 400 A. D. and 1440 A. D., when printing was invented?

No, the cost of individual Bibles written by hand was prohibitive; moreover, due to the scarcity of books, and other reasons, the ability to read was limited to a small minority. The Church used art, drama and other means to convey Biblical messages.

COMMENT: To have proposed the “Bible-only” theory during the above period would obviously have been impracticable and irrational

QUESTION FIFTEEN

Who copied and conserved the Bible during the interval between 400 A. D. and 1440 A. D.? The Catholic monks; in many cases these spent their entire lives to give the world personally-penned copies of the

Scriptures, before printing was invented.

COMMENT: In spite of this, the Catholic Church is accused of having tried to destroy the Bible; had she desired to do this, she had 1500 years within which to do so.

QUESTION SIXTEEN

Who gave the Reformers the authority to change over from the one Faith, one Fold and one Shepherd program, to that of the “Bible-only theory”?

St. Paul seems to answer the above when he said: “But though we, or an angel from heaven, preach any other gospel unto you than that which we have preached unto you, let him be accursed.” (Galatians 1:8—Protestant version {KJV} ).

COMMENT: If in 300 years, (from 1517 to 1817) one-third of Christianity (Protestantism) was split into at least 300 sects, how many sects would three-thirds of Christianity have produced in 1900 years? (Answer is: at least 5700. A 1953 American study soberly informed its readers that there were at least 33,800 distinct Protestant churches, sects or ecclesial communities. The same study said there was one Catholic Church which had at least 23 different rites all acknowledging the Pope as Vicar of Christ on Earth.)

QUESTION SEVENTEEN

Since Luther, what consequences have followed from the use of the “Bible-only” theory and its personal interpretation?

Just what St. Paul foretold when he said: “For the time will come when they will not endure sound doctrine; but after their own lusts shall they heap to themselves teachers, having itching ears.” 2 Timothy 4:3 (Protestant edition). According to the World Almanac for 1953 there are in the United States 20 different organizations of Methodists, 22 kinds of Baptists, 10 branches of Presbyterians, 13 organizations of Mennonites, 18 of Lutherans and hundreds of other denominations.

COMMENT: The “Bible-only” theory may indeed cater to the self-exaltation of the individual, but it certainly does not conduce to the acquisition of Divine truth.

QUESTION EIGHTEEN

In Christ’s system, what important part has the Bible?

The Bible is one precious source of religious truth; other sources are historical records (better known as Sacred

Tradition) and the abiding presence of the Holy Spirit expressed through the Magesterium (Teaching Authority) of the Church.

COMMENT: Elimination of any one of the three elements in the equation of Christ’s true Church would be fatal to its claims to be such.

QUESTION NINETEEN

Now that the New Testament is complete and available, what insolvable problem remains?

The impossibility of the Bible to explain itself and the consequent multiplicity of errors which individuals make by their theory of private interpretation. Hence it is indisputable that the Bible must have an authorized interpreter.

2 Peter 1:20:- Knowing this first, that no prophecy of the scripture is of any private interpretation.

2 Peter 3:16:As also in all his [Paul’s] epistles, speaking in them of these things; in which are some things hard to be understood, which they that are unlearned and unstable wrest, as they do also the other scriptures, unto their own destruction.

Acts 8:30:- And Philip ran thither to him, and heard him read the prophet Esaias, [Isaiah] and said, understandest thou what thou readest? 31. And he said, How can I except some men should guide me? And he desired Philip that he would come up and sit with him.

COMMENT: Only by going on the supposition that falsehood is as acceptable to God as is truth, can the “Bibleonly” theory be defended.

QUESTION TWENTY

Who is the official expounder of the Scriptures?

The Holy Spirit, acting through and within the Church which Christ founded more than nineteen centuries ago; the

Bible teaches through whom in the Church come the official interpretations of; God’s law and God’s word.

Luke 10:16:- He that heareth you heareth me; and he that despiseth you despiseth me; and he that despiseth me despiseth him that sent me. [Christ spoke these words to his Apostles. To them and their legitimate and continuous historical successors this mandate applies. Thus the true Church of Christ must be ‘Apostolic,’ with a genuine historical link traceable through all the Christian centuries to these self-same Apostles.]

Matt. 16:18:- And I say also unto thee, That thou art Peter, and upon this rock I will build my church; and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it.

Mal. 2:7:- For the priest’s lips should keep knowledge, and they should seek the law at his mouth: for he is the messenger of the Lord of hosts.

COMMENT: Formerly at least, it was commonly held that when individuals read their Bibles carefully and prayerfully, the Holy Spirit would guide each individual to a knowledge of the truth. This is much more than the Catholic Church claims for even the Pope himself. Only after extended consultation and study, with much fervent prayer, does he rarely and solemnly make such a decision.

QUESTION TWENTY-ONE

What are the effects of the Catholic use of the Bible?

Regardless of what persons may think about the Catholic Church, they must admit that her system gets results in the way of unity of rule and unity of faith; otherwise stated, one Faith, one Fold and one Shepherd.

COMMENT: If many millions of non-Catholics in all nations, by reading their Bible carefully and prayerfully, had exactly the same faith, reached the same conclusions, then this theory might deserve the serious consideration of intelligent, well-disposed persons-but not otherwise.

QUESTION TWENTY-TWO

Why are these so many non-Catholic Churches?

Because there is so much different interpretation of the Bible; there is so much different interpretation of the Bible because there is so much wrong interpretation; there is so much wrong interpretation because the system of interpreting is radically wrong. You cannot have one Fold and one Shepherd, one Faith and one Baptism, by allowing every man and every woman to distort and pervert the Scriptures to suit his or her own pet theories.

COMMENT: To say that Bible reading is an intensely Christian practice, is to enunciate a beautiful truth; to say that Bible reading is the sole source of religious faith, is to make a sadly erroneous statement.

QUESTION TWENTY-THREE

Without Divine aid, could the Catholic Church have maintained her one Faith, one Fold, and one Shepherd? Not any more than the non-Catholic sects have done; they are a proof of what happens when, without Divine aid, groups strive to do the humanly impossible.

COMMENT: Catholics love, venerate, and use the Bible; but they also know that the Bible alone is not Christ’s system but only a precious book, a means, an aid by which the Church carries on her mission to “preach the Gospel to every living creature” and to keep on preaching it “to the end of time.”

QUESTION TWENTY-FOUR

Were there any printed Bibles before Luther?

When printing was invented about 1440, one of the first, if not the earliest printed book, was an edition of the Catholic Bible printed by John Gutenberg. It is reliably maintained that 626 editions of the Catholic Bible, or portions thereof, had come from the press through the agency of the Church, in countries where her influence prevailed, before Luther’s German version appeared in 1534. Of these, many were in various European languages. Hence Luther’s “discovery” of the supposedly unknown Bible at Erfurt in 1503 is one of those strange, wild calumnies with which anti-Catholic literature abounds.

COMMENT: Today parts of the Bible are read in the vernacular from every Catholic altar every Sunday. [Even more daily vernacular Bible reading is heard from Catholic altars in these days of the twenty-first century.] The Church grants a spiritual premium or indulgence to those who read the Bible; every Catholic family has, or is supposed to have, a Bible in the home. Millions of Catholic Bibles are sold annually.

QUESTION TWENTY-FIVE

During the Middle Ages, did the Catholic Church manifest hostility to the Bible as her adversaries claim? Under stress of special circumstances, various regulations were made by the Church to protect the people from being spiritually poisoned by the corrupted and distorted translations of the Bible; hence opposition to the Waldensians, Albigensians, Wycliffe and Tyndale. [Sadly, the situation of English-speaking Catholics was most distressing. The two last-named, Wycliffe and Tyndale filled their English translations of the Bible with calamitous footnotes, which, had they been accepted, would have mislead the newly literate Middle Classes into grossly distorted views of gospel truth. It was against these nastily footnoted Bible translations that English Catholic Bishops took such a strong objection. Neglectfully, they failed to provide authentic translations in the English vernacular to take the place of these heretical deceptions. In this they did NOT follow the example of their continental Catholic colleagues.]

COMMENT: Individual churchmen may at times have gone too far in their zeal, not to belittle the Bible, but to protect it. There is no human agency in which authority is always exercised blamelessly.

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Apologetics And Catholic Doctrine

THE MOST REV. M. SHEEHAN, D.D

INDEX

SECTION I. NATURAL APOLOGETICS

CHAPTER I. THE EXISTENCE AND THE NATURE OF GOD AS SHOWN BY PURE REASON

1. THE EXISTENCE OF GOD

From truths naturally known, we prove the existence of a Living, Personal God, i.e., of a Being endowed with intelligence and free-will, the

First or Originating Cause of all things distinct from Himself.1

BRIEF TREATMENT OF THE PROOFS

I. PROOF FROM ORDER AND LAW IN NATURE

PROOF FROM ORDER IN NATURE (USUALLY CALLED THE PROOF FROM DESIGN)

In the works of nature, as well as in the works of man, order or orderly arrangement is due to the activity of an intelligent designer. 1. Suppose you pay a visit to a bicycle factory. In one of the workshops you see a number of parts, sorted into different collections-a pile of steel tubing, a sheaf of spokes, wheel-rims, hubs, handlebars, pedals, boxes of nuts and screws and so forth. You return some hours later, let us say, and find that the entire assemblage of units has been transformed into a dozen new bicycles, each perfect in every detail: part has been fitted into part with deft adjustment, yielding a result which is a model of ordered arrangement. Could you possibly imagine such an achievement to have been the product of mere chance? No, you would recognize at once that it was the work of an intelligent mechanic.

Now turn from the bicycles to the human hand that helped to make them, and you will find a far more wonderful instance of order and ingenuity. Every movement of the human hand causes an interplay of finely wrought bones, a contraction or relaxation of pliant muscles, a straining or slackening of fibrous sinews. Its framework is composed of no less than nineteen bones, while eight more of vari ous shapes ensure strength and flexibility in the wrist. Surely blind chance can have had no part in the formation of such a highly-complicated and intricate system of bones and muscles, of sinews and arteries, wherein the several units are working harmoniously for the production of each and every movement of the whole. And, if we exclude chance, the question immediately arises, whence has it come? Obviously not from man, for it has grown and developed with himself. Who then is the author of that wonderful piece of mechanism? Who is it that has caused it to grow to its present shape, to develop so many different tissues to attain to such efficiency? The answer springs to your lips. The Maker of the human hand and of the countless other marvels with which our world is filled is none other than the great Master-Worker, Almighty God.

2. The photographic camera consists of a case in which there is a circular opening for the admission of light, the light passes through the lens, and forms a picture on the sensitive plate. Parallel with this is the instance of the human eye, the eye-ball corresponding to the case of the camera, the pupil corresponding to the circular opening, the crystalline lens to the camera-lens, and the retina to the sensitive plate. In both examples, it will be observed, several distinct things are found united or fitted together to produce a single result, viz., a clear picture on the sensitive plate and on the retina. Could those distinct things have come together by chance? No, it is perfectly plain that such a combination could have been effected only by the intelligent operator. The camera was made by man: the human eye was made by a worker no less real, though invisible.2

How did the maker of the camera do his work? He collected the materials he required; he shaped, filed, and polished them with great care, and finally fitted them together. Though you may admire his skill, you are convinced that you yourself with proper training could imitate it. But what of the maker of the human eye? How did he do his work? In some most mysterious way which we are quite unable to understand, and which we recognize as far beyond the possibility of imitation, he caused a minute portion of flesh to multiply itself a milli on times over, and, in so doing, gradually to build up, shape, and perfect every part of the wonderful organ. He who could get a particle of matter to behave in that way is a worker whose intelligence and power it is impossible for our minds to measure. He is the Master of Nature: we call Him God.

I PROOF FROM THE LAWS OF NATURE

All nature is obedient to law. Astronomy, physics, and chemistry show that inanimate matter, from the stars of heaven to the smallest speck of dust, is, in all its movements and changes, subject, to fixed laws. The same holds for living things-plants, animals, and men: each species grows, develops, and acts in the same way. The entire universe is bound together into one vastly complicated whole, and is li ke a great, machine the parts of which are admirably fitted together. The orderly movement of the heavens, the marvelous structure of living things and their organs, such as the organs of sight and hearing, the wonderful instinct of the lower animals. as instanced in the work of insects and the nest-building of birds, the free activity of man, his great achievements in science, literature, and art-all these marvels are the gifts of nature and in conformity with its laws.

It is unthinkable that laws, producing effects so vast, and yet so orderly in their entirety and in their smallest detail, could have sprung from chance, or from any unintelligent cause we choose to name. They must have been imposed by a wise Lawgiver who so framed them and so directed them in their working as to achieve the ends he desired. That Lawgiver must he a being of vast i ntelligence. He must possess free-will for he has given that faculty to man. He must possess power beyond our capacity to measure, a power to which our minds can affix no limit.

The great Newton who discovered the laws of the motions of the heavenly bodies wrote as follows: “This most beautiful system of sun, planets and comets could nowise come into existence without the design and ownership of a Being at once intelligent and power ful. . . . This Being governs all things, not as if He were the soul of the world, but as the Lord of everything. . . . We admire Him for His perfections, we venerate Him and we worship Him for His Lordship.”3

II PROOF FROM MOTION

Everyday experience shows us that things move. Nothing in the visible world can move entirely of itself, i.e., without help. No moving thing contains in itself the complete explanation of its movement Consider the particular case of inanimate bodies. They move only as they are moved. They do not move themselves in any way. They get all their motion from without.

Let us apply these observations to the earth and to the heavenly bodies. That some of these bodies are in motion is manifest; the movement of the earth on its axis is a proved fact; its motion round the sun is likewise certain.

Ask yourself now how did the earth get its motion? Many physicists say that it got its motion from the sun, which, while spinning round, flung it off as a fragment. But whence did the sun get its motion? Some say that the sun got its motion from a larger body of which it once formed a part, while others assert that the sun with its motion is the result of a collision between two stars. But how did the motion of the larger body or the stars originate? Science gives no answer, and even though it did, the answer would leave us exactly where we were: we should still be as far as ever from a final and satisfactory explanation of the motion of the earth. The only real reply, which excludes a 11further inquiry, is that the motion is due immediately or ultimately to some unmoved source of motion, to the first mover.

There must exist, therefore, a being distinct from the world who gave it motion. That being is either the first mover or a be ing moved by some other. If that mover is moved by another, whence did that other derive his motion? The question as to the source of motion can be answered satisfactorily only when, at last, we reach a first mover who is not moved by any other.

That first mover we call God.

III PROOF FROM CAUSALITY

A thing must exist before it can act: nothing therefore can make itself. If we see anything new come into existence, we are sure it must have been brought into existence by something else. That which is brought into existence is called an effect; and that which brings it into existence is called a cause.

If we find that the cause of any particular effect is itself an effect, our mind is not content: we feel that we have not yet arrived at a satisfactory explanation of the first effect. Take, for example, the electric light that suddenly springs up and floods your room at night-time. It is an effect. But what is its cause? The current. The current however is an effect of the moving dynamo. Now, if the moving dynamo is the last cause that we can name, we are still without a full and satisfactory explanation of the electric light. Why? Because the dynamo itself is an effect. Therefore, at the end of our series of questions we find ourselves in the presence of an effect that needs explanation quite as much as the effect from which we started.

Let us repeat in general or abstract form what we have been saying in the last paragraph:

In the world around us, the existence of any particular thing, which we will call A, is accounted for by something else, which we will call B. A is the effect; B is its cause. But suppose B itself to be the effect of C; C the effect of D; D the effect of E, and so on through a long series. If the last cause which we can set down-let us call it Z-has itself been produced by something else, then we are still without a true and satisfactory explanation of A. The complete and final explanation will be found only when we reach a cause which is not an effect a cause which has not derived its existence from something else. This cause which we designate the First Cause, accounts at once for the entire series of causes which we have been considering and of any other series which. we choose to investigate. The First Cause therefore of all thin gs in nature must necessarily be uncaused (if it were caused it would not be the first cause.) It was not brought into existence; thus, it must have existence of itself, it must be self-existent. he first cause, the self-existent source of all things, we call God.

IV PROOF FROM DEPENDENCE

Everything in the visible world is subject to change and death. Plants, animals, and men come into being, and after a. short time perish, while inanimate matter suffers endless changes. No particular thing in the universe has any grip on existence; its existence is an unfastened cloak that may slip from it at any instant: existence is no part of its nature. Everything in the world, therefore, is dependent, i.e., it does not exist of itself, but depends on something else for its existence.

Since dependent beings do, as a fact, exist, and go on existing, and since they do not exist of themselves, they must be held in existence by an independent or necessary being, i.e., by a being who is self-existent, a being to whose nature existence belongs.

Can the self-existent being be like matter, or electricity, or any other lifeless thing we care to name? No; to support in existence all things in the world, including living plants sentient animals, and rational men, the self-existent being must be a Living Power. He must be the Supreme Being who holds within Himself the source of His own existence.

We call Him God.

Note.-Grasp the significance of the truth that we are absolutely dependent on God for our existence. It is the foundation of all religion; it brings sharply before our mind the nothingness of man and the greatness and goodness of God. From it, springs the chief of all our duties, the duty of loving Him with our whole heart and soul as the Giver and ever-active Sustainer of our very life and being, and of acknowledging His supreme dominion over us and our total dependence on Him.

FULLER TREATMENT OF THE PROOFS OF GOD’S EXISTENCE

First Principles.-Before giving our fuller treatment of the above proofs, we shall state the first principles on which they are based. First principles are the self-evident truths that serve as the basis of a science. Thus, in Euclid, the axioms are the first principles from which all the proposition A may ultimately be deduced. In our proofs, the First Principles are chiefly two, viz.:

(1) That our reason and the evidence of our senses are trustworthy.

(2) That anything which begins to exist must have been brought into existence by something distinct from itself (Principle of Causality).

We need not, and in fact we cannot, prove First Principles. They shine by their own light. Those who deny their validity put themselves beyond the pale of discussion.

I PROOF FROM ORDER AND LAW IN NATURE

PROOF FROM ORDER IN NATURE 4

Order Explained by Examples.-The Photographic Camera.-The photographic camera is a familiar object nowadays. It consists of a small case into which are fitted a sensitive plate and at least one lens. The plate is a little sheet of glass on which is spread a chemical preparation: it is called “sensitive” or “sensitized,” because it retains any picture made on it by light-rays. The lens is of glass or other transparent substance, and has the power of casting on a screen the image of any object placed in front of it. The camera is completely closed but for a small opening in one of the sides. Through this opening, the light-rays enter: they pass through the lens, and fall on the sensitive plate where they make the picture.

Without going into all details, we may note the following as the essentials of a satisfactory camera:

(1) A case, blackened within.

(2) A circular opening which can be altered in size so as to admit only the exact amount of light required.

(3) A lens of a special curved shape.

(4) A sensitive plate.

(5) An arrangement by which the lens can be adjusted to a particular distance from the sensitive plate, so as to secure the proper focus, and save the picture from being blurred.

All these things were shaped and brought together for the purpose of producing a good picture. We have here an example of order or design, i.e., a combination or arrangement of different things in order to produce a single effect.

The Human Eye.-The human eye is similar in structure to the camera. Note the following points of resemblance: (1) The eye-ball corresponds to the case.

(2) The pupil corresponds to the circular opening: it is of adjustable size, and can be altered according to the amount of light required. (3) The crystalline lens, corresponding to the lens of the camera.

(4) The retina, corresponding to the sensitive plate.

(5) An arrangement for focusing: in the camera, this is done by altering the distance between lens and plate; in the eye by altering the curvature of the crystalline lens.

Here again we have an example of order, because different things are combined to produce a single effect. Each contributes in its own measure towards the same end, viz., the formation of a clear picture on the retina.

Order Demands Intelligence.-How did the camera come to be made? You have your choice of just two answers, viz., that it was made by chance or by intelligence. Now, you know that it could not have been made by chance: such an explanation is so foolish that you would regard it as a jest. You need no help whatever to convince you that the camera was put together by an intelligent workman.

How did the human eye come to be made? By chance? No: that is an absurd reply. The human eye was made by some intelligent being.

The Maker of the Human Eye Possesses Power and Intelligence without Limit.-Make the following supposition: Suppose that all the parts of a camera lay scattered about the table, and suppose you saw them rise up and move towards one another and fit themselves together-would you say that this happened by chance? No; you would say that it was brought about by some intelligent, though invisible, worker, and you would add that he must indeed possess very wonderful powers.

Now take a step further. Suppose that the case, the lens, and the sensitive plate were all ground to the finest powder and mi xed thoroughly together; suppose that the minute fragments of each part sought one another out, and fastened themselves together again; and suppose that each part thus completed took up its proper place so as to give us a perfect camera-would you say that this was due to chance? No, but you would protest that here there was need of a worker, still more intelligent, still more powerful.

But we are not done with our suppositions. There is one more which we must make. Suppose you saw just a single tiny speck of dust on the table before you; suppose that, having grown to twice its size, it broke up into two particles, and that each of these two particles, having doubled its size, broke up into two others; suppose that this process of growth and division went on, and that, during its progress, the particles managed to build up the case, lens and plate; suppose, in other words, that you saw one and the same minute fragment of matter produce such widely different things as the case with its blackened sides, the transparent lens with its mathematically accurate curvature, the sensitive plate with its chemical dressing, the aperture with its light-control, and last of all, the mechanism for focusing. What would you say to such a supposition? You would be tempted at once to stamp it as utterly improbable. You would protest, and with good reason, that only an all-powerful being could get a single speck of dust to behave as we have described, to make it multiply itself, and, while so doing, form unerringly, and piece together, an ingenious mechanism.

But is there really any improbability in the occurrence of which we have just spoken? No; the very eyes with which you have b een reading this page are witnesses against you. Each of them began as a single particle of matter: the hidden worker acted upon it, made it multiply itself millions of times and made it develop such utterly distinct things as the eye-ball, the retina, the crystalline lens with its controlling muscles, the contractile pupil, along with other parts equally marvelous which it is unnecessary to mention. That hidden worker is a being whose power and intelligence our minds cannot measure.

The Maker of the Human Eye is God.-He who has made the human eye is a spirit; He is a spirit because He is an active intelligent and invisible being. He is one to whom nothing is hard or impossible. We call Him God.

FURTHER EVIDENCE FOR THIS CONCLUSION

God’s Wisdom and Power.-1. The human eye, as we have explained grows from a single particle of matter; but the entire body with its flesh, blood, bone, muscle, its various limbs and organs, grows in precisely the same way. It begins as a single living cell which multiplies itself, and gradually forms every part. That living cell small as it is, is far more wonderful than any machine that man has ever made. You can show how a watch does its work; you can show how the movement of the spring passes from one part to another, until final ly it is communicated to the hands; but you cannot show how the living cell does its work: it is wrapt round with mystery-why? Because the mind that made it is too deep for us to fathom. But the mystery lies not only in the manner in which the cell works but in the results which it produces. As fruit, flowers, foliage, bark, stem and roots come from a single seed, so the wonderful powers of man, his sight, his hearing, his other senses come from the living cell. The more intricate and ingenious a machine is, the greater testimony it is to the cleverness of its maker: but there is no machine in the world that can be compared with the living cell which builds up a man capable himself of making machines and of attaining to eminence in art and science.

The power displayed in the development of the living cell is on a par with the wisdom. It is a power exerted, not through hands and muscles, but by a mere act of the will. God commands the development to take place, and nature obeys Him.5

2. We have proved God’s existence from a few special in stances of order, but we could have argued with equal success from anything whatever in the visible world: the very stones you tread under foot are made up of molecules each one of which, when studied scientifically, is found to possess a structure that could have been given to it only by a wise architect: it is as clearly the work of intelligence a s is the house in which you live.

We read that in olden times a certain man was accused of denying the existence of God. Stooping down, he picked up a straw from the ground: “If I had no other evidence before me but this straw,” he said, “I should be compelled to believe that there is a God.” He meant that wisdom alone could have devised the special tubular shape in virtue of which a very small quantity of matter supports an ear of corn, and allows it to toss and away freely with the breeze.

Proof from Law in Nature 6 All Nature is Obedient to Law.7-That the universe is obedient to law is a truth which forms the very basis of all physical science: (1) Inanimate matter is subject to law.-(a) In Astronomy, the laws of Kepler and Newton have exhibited the heavens as forming so exact a mechanical system that seemingly irregular occurrences, such as eclipses and the return of comets, can be predicted with certainty. (b) In Physics, the laws of sound, heat, light, and electricity, work so perfectly that results can be calculated in advance with mathematical accuracy. (c) In Chemistry, substances are found to have definite attractions and affinities and to combine according to fixed laws. In all other branches and sub-divisions of physical science the same regularity is observed. Everywhere, like agents in like circumstances produce the same effects.

(2) Animate matter is subject to law. -(a) All living things are subject to fixed laws of nutrition, growth, and reproduction. Plants, animals, and men develop from a single living cell. In the higher forms of life, in man, for instance, that cell multiplies itself man y times, gradually building up a great complexity of organs, such as the eye, the ear, the heart and lungs. (b) Every living thing possesses the capacity to r epair its worn parts. (c) Among the lower animals, every individual of the same species is endowed with the same set of useful appe tites and tendencies in connection with the quest for food, the defense of life the propagation of its kind, and the care of its offspring. (d) Th e same holds for man, who, in addition, possesses inclinations in keeping with his rational nature. Impelled by the desire for truth and the love of beauty, his mind builds up many wonderful sciences, and produces all the marvels of literature and art. In its movements it is subject to cert ain laws, the laws of thought just as the seed, developing into stem, leaf, and flower, is subject to the laws of growth.

(3) Animate matter is subject to, and served by, the laws of inanimate matter. -(a) All living things are subject to the laws of inanimate matter. Nutrition, growth, and many other processes take place in accordance with the laws of chemistry. The laws of gravitation and energy are as valid for the living as for the non-living. The tree, for instance, which stores up the energy of the sun’s rays, returns it later on when its withered branches burn on the hearth. (b) Animate matter is served by the laws of inanimate matter. Examples: Gravitation has so placed the earth in relation to the sun that it receives the moderate quantity of light and heat necessary for the support of organic li fe. . . . The air contains in every 100 parts nearly 79 of nitrogen and 21 of oxygen gas, together with .04 of carbonic acid, a minute proportion of ammonia and other constituents, and a variable quantity of watery vapor. In pure nitrogen, man would suffocate; in pure oxygen, big body would burn out rapidly like a piece of tinder; without carbonic acid plant life would be impossible. . . . The plant exhales oxygen and inhales carboni c acid; the animal exhales carbonic acid, and inhales oxygen: thus, each ministers to the life of the other. . . . The water, drawn by evaporation from the sea, drifts in clouds, and descends in rain on the mountains, thus feeding the wells, the streams and rivers, so necessary for living things. . . . Bodies contract with a fall of temperature, and yet water expands when its temperature falls below 4 Centigrade. Hence, ice is lighter than water, and forms a surface-covering which, being of low conductivity, prevents the rapid congealing of the entire body of water and the destruction of 1iving things beneath.

(4) The whole universe, we may say in conclusion, is guided by law. Everywhere there is order. Everywhere there is admirable arrangement. Everywhere there are fixed modes of action.

The Laws of Nature could not have been produced by chance or by a cause acting blindly, which is but another name for chance.-Is it necessary to refute the absurdity that chance could have generated a law? Law is the exact opposite of chance. Fixity is the characteristic of law; variability, the characteristic of chance: (1) Four rods of equal length, flung aimlessly from the hand, may fall into the exact form of a square. It is barely conceivable that this may happen once or twice; it is utterly inconceivable that it should happen a hundred times i n unbroken succession; but what should be thought of the conceivability of its never happening otherwise?8 Yet this last must be realized in order to give us the basis of a law. (2) If the generation by chance of such a simple law be impossible, how can we measure the absurdity of s upposing that chance could have produced the vast complexity of laws that rule the universe, the laws whose operation guides the course of planets, and accounts for the growth and reproduction of living things, the instinct and tendencies of animals the work of bees, the nest-building of birds, the activity of the mind of man?

The Laws of Nature have been Imposed by a Lawgiver.-(1) The arguments by which we have shown that the laws of nature are not due to chance avail, also, to prove that those laws cannot be due to any unintelligent cause we choose to name. Therefore, they must be due to some great intelligence distinct from matter. They must have been ordained and imposed by a Lawgiver. And, as the statesman frames his legislation for a definite purpose, so, also the Lawgiver of the universe imposed His laws to achieve the ends He desired. The orderly arrangement produced by His laws was intentional. It was in accordance with His preconceived plan or design.

(2)Observe how the necessity for an intelligent author of the Laws of Nature is enforced by considerations such as the following:

(a) Great intelligence and skillful workmanship are required to construct a steam-engine that can feed itself with fuel and water. But indefinitely greater would be the intelligence and power which could make the iron-ore come, of itself, out of the bowels of the earth, smelt and temper itself, form and fit together all the parts of the engine, make the engine lay in its store of water and coal, kindle its furnace, and repair its worn parts. Yet this is an everyday process of nature in the case of living organisms. And, as intelligence is needed to guide the hands of the mechanic who builds the engine, much more is it needed to combine and direct the lifeless forces of nature in producing more marvelous results.

(b) The lower animals in the work which they do, often exhibit instances of wonderful order. They perform with great skill a series of actions for the achievement of a definite purpose. Take the following example: There is a kind of sand-wasp^9 which prepares a worm as food for its larvae by cutting as with a surgical lance and paralyzing all the more-nerve centers, so as to deprive the worm of movement but not of life. The sand-wasp then lays its eggs beside the worm and covers all with clay. It has got its surgical skill without instruction or practice. It lives for but one season. It has not been taught by its parents, for it has never seen them. It does not teach its offspring, for it dies before they emerge from the earth. It has not got its skill by heredity. For what does heredity mean in such a case? It means that some ancestor of the insect, having accidentally struck the worm in nine or ten nerve centers, managed somehow or other to transmit to all its descendants a facility for achieving the same success. But it is mere folly to say that this chance act of the ancestor rather than any other chance act should be come a fixed habit in all its progeny. And could the original success have been due to chance? Where the number of points that might have been struck was infinitely great, the chance of striking the nerve centers alone was zero. But perhaps the insect gets its skill by reasoning? No: (1) because reasoning does not give dexterity; (2) because it is impossible that each insect of the same tribe-and all are equally expert-should discover by independent reasoning exactly the same process; (3) because, when the insect is confronted with the slightest novel difficulty, it acts 1ike a creature without reason and is powerless to solve it. Therefore, the intelligence which the sand-wasp exhibits does not reside in the insect itself but in the mind of God: it was He who planned the work: it is He who moves the insect to perform it.10

(c) Man is as much a product of nature as the bee or the flower. The elaborate works of civilization, the arts and sciences, and all the accumulated knowledge of centuries, are as certainly due to the working of nature’s laws or forces, as the honey-cell of the bee or the perfume of the flower. Is it for a moment conceivable that those laws were not directed by intelligence, that man and all his achievements could have sprung from a source, blind and lifeless, and, therefore totally inadequate to account for them?

The Lawgiver is God.-(1) As the carpenter is distinct from the table he makes, the architect from the house he designs, as every cause is distinct from its effect, so the Lawgiver of the universe must be distinct from the universe and its laws. (2) A scientist of exceptional talent, aided by perfect apparatus for research, succeeds after many years of study in understanding, more or less imperfectly, the working of one or two of those laws. Must not, then, the Author of them all be a Being of vast intelligence? (3) That Being must possess free-will. Else, how does man by a law of his nature come to possess such a faculty? And why should the laws of nature be precisely as they are-we see no reason why they might not be otherwise-except from the act of a Being free to choose as He pleases? The Being who possesses these perfections we call God.

II PROOF FROM MOTION

The Existence of Motion in things around us is proved by innumerable instances.

In the Visible World Nothing moves entirely of itself, i.e. without help.11 You can divide all things in the world into two classes, viz., things animate and things inanimate, or, things with life and things without life.

(1) No lifeless thing moves without help. This obvious truth can be illustrated by a thousand examples. The marbles with which a child plays are propelled by his fingers: the stone falling through the air is being pulled down by gravity: the steamer gliding through the water gets its motion from the engine-and so on for instances without number. If then you see any quantity of inanimate matter in motion-any quantity be it ever so great or ever so small-you are certain that it must have got help from without.

(2) No animate or living thing moves without help. This, at first sight, is not so clear, yet a little reflection will show t hat it is true. (a) Living things move themselves but can do so only by receiving help from outside. Both animals and plants require food; it is the source of their energy; without it they would cease to be living things. (b) Life, or the principle of life, is not like the movement of a particle of matter; life is not energy, but a director of energy. The total energy of a plant or animal during the whole course of its existence (including the store of energy which it may possess at death) is exactly equivalent to the energy which it has absorbed from without; and this equality remains, no matter how the energy may have been expended. (c) The principle of life never begins its work, until it is stimulated from outside. One illustration will suffice: take, for instance, the grain of corn in the earth; the living principle in that grain will remain inactive, unless the proper conditions of warmth, moisture, etc., are present.

“But,” you will say, “what of our free-will?” Using the word ‘motion’ in a broader sense to mean more than the movement of something material, cannot we say, and must we not say, that our will moves itself?” Yes, but it never moves itself without help. The will cannot choose between two courses, unless those courses have been laid before it by the intellect. “But what of the intellect? Does it not conceive ideas unaided? “No; it cannot take its first step, until it gets information from one or other of the five senses; and the senses themselves would remain forever passive, unless stimulated or affected by things distinct from them.12

There would be no motion in the world but for help given by someone who is outside the world.-Since nothing in the world moves of itself, since everything requires help of some kind for its motion it follows that there must be some Being outside the world who gave it its first motion. Suppose that there are five children who are willing to obey you strictly: suppose you get each to promise not to speak until spoken to; and suppose you lock all five in a room by themselves: then, no word would over be spoken in that room, unless someone from outsi de were first to speak to the occupants. It is so with the motion we see in the world; as the silence in the room would never have been broken but for the voice from without, so the motion in the world could never have existed but for the motion given by some Being outside the world. So far we have been thinking of the world as it is today, with its great number of living as well as lifeless things; but it is the teaching of

Science, that at some time in the distant past the earth was a fiery globe revolving then, as now, round the Sun, but with no life on its surface.

How did it get this motion? Scientists say it got it from the Sun. The Sun while spinning round flung off several fragments: these fragments are the planets of which the earth is one. But how did the Sun get its spinning or rotating motion? It got it from a larger moving mass of which it once formed part-or as some assert, the Sun with its motion was produced by a collision between two stars. But, again, how account for the motion of the larger mass, or of the stars. There is no answer from Science: and, even if there were, it would merely tell us of another moving body or bodies whose motion would equally need explanation. Here then is the problem: the universe was formed from a quantity of moving matter; who gave that matter its motion? Someone who is outside the universe, and is no part of the universe. Someone who is truly called the

First Mover.

The First Mover is God.-If you suppose that he who gave the world its motion was Himself moved by a second being, the second by a third, and so on indefinitely, you make a supposition which leads nowhere, because it would still remain true that there must be some being who is the fountain-head of all that motion, there would still be a First Mover. The hands of a watch are moved by one of the wheels, that wheel is moved by another and so on. But it is quite absurd to think that we can do without the mainspring by merely increasing the number of wheels indefinitely.13

The First Mover cannot be a lump of inert matter; if he wore, his motion would have been derived from without; he could not have been the

First Mover.

He is not like us: he is not united to a body; if he were, his knowledge would depend on external stimulus, and he would not be the First

Mover. He must be a Being whose knowledge had no beginning, whose mind was never in darkness.

He Himself is the source of all His activity. He is a Spirit, the Lord and Master of the universe: His name is God. Note.-According to the capacity of the pupils, the teacher might explain that in God the mind knowing is not distinct from the object known that the mind knowing is God himself, and the object known is likewise God himself; and that through His self-knowledge He has a perfect knowledge of His creatures. This identity in God of the mind knowing and the object known enables us to understand how His knowledge never had a beginning.

III PROOF FROM CAUSALITY

The only full and satisfactory explanation of the universe is found, as we shall see, in the existence of a First Cause, to whom all things and all changes, all facts and events are directly or indirectly due.

Take anything you please in the world about you-let us call it A-and try to account for its existence. You discover that it has been produced by B; that B has been produced by C; and C by D. Now, if the last cause named by you in this or any other such series be itself an effect, you are still without a true and full explanation of A, and you will not find that explanation until you arrive at a first cause, a cause which is not an effect, a cause which has not derived its existence from anything else, a cause which is uncaused and self-existent.

If it be objected that A may be caused by B, B by C, and C by A, thus moving in a circle, as it were, no answer: (1) If A has been caused by B, and B by C, it follows that A has been caused by C. But if A has been caused by C, then C cannot have been caused by A. (2 ) If A is caused by B, then B must have existed before A; if B has been caused by C, then C must have existed before B. Therefore C existed before A, and could not have been caused by it.

The series of effects and causes, A. B, C, etc., leads us therefore to a First Cause which is uncaused. Being uncaused, it wa s never brought into existence by anything else; it always existed; it has existence of itself; it is self-existent. It is idle to inquire why it exists, for it exists of its very nature.” The First Cause is thus self-explanatory, accounting not only for itself but for A and B and C, and for each and every member in any other such series which we choose to set forth.

Now, since there is nothing in the visible world about which we cannot ask the question, why it exists, it follows that the i ndependent being who is the explanation and cause of all things in nature must himself be distinct from all and superior to all.

Each individual thing in the visible world, as we have seen, needs an explanation, and finds it, directly or ultimately, in t he existence of a first cause. But the universe in its entirety likewise needs an explanation: it is not self-explanatory; it is not, the full explanation of all that takes place within it:-The universe is made up of a certain number of constituents; the action of any one of them (X) may be explained by its properties and by the influence exerted on it by all the others, the action of the second (Y) may be explained in a similar way, and so on, yet this leaves still unexplained why the constituent X existed at all, and why it had Y, Z, K, etc., acting upon it, and not a totall y different set of influencing companions. Hence the universe considered as a whole, is not self-explanatory: it needs an explanation just as much as the smallest thing in it. It points beyond itself; it points to an uncaused being outside nature, a being that contains its own explanation, and is the final explanation of everything else, the first and sufficient cause of all things.

Since this being is the author of the order of the universe, the author of the intelligence and free-will of man, he himself in some supereminent way, must possess intelligence and free-will, for the cause must be sufficient to account for the effect.

This First Cause, this Self-existent and Intelligent Being we call God.

Note.-(1) The student should observe that a physical cause, that is, a cause whose operation comes under the observation of the senses, can never fully account for its effect. Let us take an example:-Suppose we are asked to account for the letters we see in this printed page. The physical causes of those letters are the metal type, the ink, the absorbent nature of the paper, the printer’s hands and eyes. But, clearly, these causes do not explain how the page came to be printed. The real cause is not physical. It is the free-will of the printer. Note how the example applies to the motion we observe in the world around us: the physicist explains the motion of the train by the motion in the piston of the e ngine; the motion in the piston by the expansion of steam; the expansion of steam by the heat from the coal; the energy in the coal , which is nothing more than compressed vegetable matter, by the sun’s heat and light; the sun’s heat and light, by the motion of the nebula out of which it was evolved. Therefore, as far as a complete explanation is concerned, we find ourselves, at the end of a long series of physical causes, just where we were at the beginning. The motion of the nebula requires explanation just as much as the motion of the train. Thus we are dri ven once more to find the ultimate explanation of all physical phenomena in the will of some all-powerful Being distinct from the world.15

Note.-(2) The Existence of a First Cause is demanded by the Law of the Dissipation of Energy.-Men of science agree that the two following principles belong to the fundamental laws of physics.16

(a) The amount of energy in the universe is constant.”

(b) Energy existing as uniformly diffused heat is not available for useful work.

Every student of physical science knows that a portion of the energy employed in doing work appears as heat, which tends to diffuse itself uniformly. The amount of energy thus converted into diffused heat is constantly increasing, and as no useful work can be extracted from it, it is justly described as the growing waste-heap of the universe. Hence, even if the sum of energy in the universe be constant, the amount available for useful work is continually diminishing. The universe, therefore, will finally arrive at a state of rest, in which all work, and hence, all life such as we know it, will be impossible.

But the useful energy of the universe, which is thus constantly diminishing, was evidently finite at all times, and hence can only have been diminishing for a finite time. Wherefore it follows that the useful energy of the universe. had a beginning. With Lord Kelvin, we may compare the universe to a lighted candle: “Regarding the universe,” he says, “as a candle that has been lit, we become absolutely cer tain that it has not been burning from eternity, and that a time must come when it will cease to burn.” Or, we may compare it to a clock which is going. The movement of a clock is due to a spring which is slowly uncoiling. There is no mechanism within the clock to rewind the spring. At some point in the future it will stop. At some point in the past it was wound up by the hand of a man, or by some agency distinct from itself. It is so with the universe. As surely as the springs of its energy approach at every instant the final stage of complete relaxation, so surely were they, at some instant in the past, wound up by some extrinsic agency, by the hand

IV PROOF FROM DEPENDENCE (USUALLY CALLED THE PROOF FROM CONTINGENCE)18

The Meaning of “Dependence” and “Necessity.”-Contrast these two statements:

“The sky is clear,” “The whole is greater than the part.”

The former is a dependent truth: the latter is an independent or necessary truth.

The former may be true at this moment, but need not be true; its truth depends on the fulfillment of a condition, viz., that there be no clouds or mist: it is therefore a dependent truth. The latter is true at this moment and must ever be true; its truth does not depend on the fulfillment of any condition: it is an independent or necessary truth.

(1) If a statement which is now true was not always true, we know at once that it is a dependent truth; the very fact that it is a temporary truth shows us that it is not a necessary truth. May we infer from this that every statement that is true for all time must be a ne cessary truth? No. We can suppose that the statement, “The sky is clear,” was always true and always will be true; we can suppose it to be eternally true; but even so, our supposition will not make it an independent truth; it will remain a dependent truth, eternally dependent on other truths.

A dependent statement such as, “The sky is clear,” no matter how long it may continue to be true, can lose its truth at any instant: our mind admits the possibility without hesitation; but an independent statement, such as, “The whole is greater than its part,” can never cease to be true; our mind rejects the possibility as absurd and inconceivable. A dependent statement is always reversible; it is subject to death, as it were; it is a perishable truth; while an independent statement is a truth which is irreversible, deathless, imperishable and necessary.

(2) The nature of anything is shown to us in its definition; the definition tells us what precisely the thing is, or how it i s constituted. We define “the whole” as “the sum of two or more parts.” The very nature of “the whole,” therefore, compels us to assert that “the whole is greater than its part.” The assertion is really contained in the meaning of “the whole.”

Now look at the other statement, “the sky is clear.” We may define the sky as “the visible region above the earth.” It is obvious that the nature of what we call “the sky” does not compel us to assert that “the sky is clear.” Such an assertion would not follow from our definition of “the sky.”

It is the nature of “the whole” to be greater than its part.19 It is not the nature of “the sky” to be clear. The truth that “the whole is greater than its part” is true of itself; it does not lean for help on any other truth. The truth that “the sky is clear” is not true of i tself; it needs outside help to make it true.

(3) An independent statement explains itself: it shines by its own light; it does not force us to look elsewhere for the reason why it is true. A dependent statement is the opposite of all this: it does not account for itself; it shines by a borrowed light; it leaves us dissatisfied, and sends us farther afield until we find a self-explanatory truth.

Now, as a truth may be either dependent or independent, so too an existing thing may be either dependent or independent. An e xisting thing is dependent:

(1) if it exists for but a time; or

(2) if existence does not belong to its nature; or

(3) if it compels us to look outside it for the reason of its existence.

If, therefore, any one of these three conditions has been verified, the thing derives its existence from without.

Everything in the World is Dependent.-(1) Everything in this world about us is subject to change and death. Plants, animals and men come into existence and pass away. Inanimate matter suffers endless variations; new substances are being constantly built up and b roken down.20 All these things are obviously dependent, because their existence is merely temporary; but even though their existence were everl asting, it would still be, as we shall see, a dependent existence.

If we were asked to give the list of things that make up the nature of man or, in other words, if we were asked to set down all those things which constitute a man, we should not mention “existence” as one of them. The description of a man remains precisely the same whether he exists or not, or whether he exists everlastingly or not, and this is true of any particular thing in the world we choose to name. Existence, therefore, does not belong to the nature of man, nor to the nature of anything else in the world.” Hence we say that everythi ng in the visible world is dependent or contingent, i.e., that it need not exist. Not merely is there no necessity for its coming into existence, but there is no necessity for its continuing in existence.21 Nothing in the world exists necessarily. Nothing in the world has any grip on existence.

(2) If we examine the world at any stage of its history, we shall arrive at the same conclusion. Go back, if you will, to the remote age when, according to scientists, nothing existed but the fiery nebula out of which all things around us today are supposed to have been evolved. Here again you find a merely dependent thing: (a) it existed but for a time; (b) it was composed of a definite number of particles linked together in definite ways, and the fact that it possessed such a particular arrangement and no other shows its dependence on something outside itself; it needs explanation quite as much as the blast-furnace in one of our factories.-Existence does not belong to its nature.

(3) With scientists we may conceive the possibility that, amid all the transformations through which the world has passed, fundamental particles of some simple kind may have persisted fixed and unchanged, serving as the material out of which all else has been made.23 But these particles, as scientists themselves admit, would be dependent things; (a) they would possess only a definite, limited power, a fact which would send our mind in quest of further explanation; (b) the power exerted by them would be described by scientists-to put their view in the simplest form—as a certain amount of activity;24 but this activity would need explaining quite as much as the activity of our muscles.25

Dependent Things are held in Existence by an Independent Being.-Since the visible world with all that it contains is dependent, it must be held in existence by some being distinct from it. If this being were dependent on a second and higher being, the second on a third, the third on a fourth, and so on endlessly, we should thus have an infinite series; but the entire series would be dependent quite as much as any member of it, and would not account for its continued existence. Therefore, no explanation of the continued existence of ourselves and all else in the world can be found, unless we admit the existence of an independent or necessary being, existing of itself, existing of its very nature.

Physical scientists are not in disagreement with us. Max Planck, one of the most eminent of them, expresses a common view in the following quotation (his word “absolute” is equivalent to “independent”; his words “accidental,” “contingent” and “relative” have the same meaning as “dependent”):

“From the fact that in studying the happenings of nature we strive to eliminate the contingent and accidental, and to come fi nally to what is essential and necessary, it is clear that we always look for the basic thing behind the dependent thing, for what is absolute behind what is relative. . . . After all I have said, and in view of the experiences through which scientific progress has passed, we must admit that in no case can we rest assured that what is absolute^26 in science today will remain absolute for all time. Not only that, but we must admit as certain that the absolute can never finally be grasped by the researcher.27 The absolute represents an ideal goal which is always ahead of us and which we can never reach.”28

The search of the physical scientist for the independent, self-existent being is doomed to failure, because his sphere of inquiry is restricted to the visible world, where he will never find anything but dependent things or activities like those with which we are familiar; his last word will take us no farther than the theory of the Indian sages who said that the earth is supported by an elephant, the elephant by a tortoise, and the tortoise by-29 he will never reach the end of his inquiry, because he will never see the Absolute, i.e., God, in the microscope.

The Independent or Necessary Being is God.-The Independent or Necessary Being, the giver of dependent existence and the upholder of every dependently existing thing, from intelligent man down to the least material thing, must be a great living Power: we call Him God. Existence must belong to Him as truth belongs to the statement that “the whole is greater than its part.” He must be self-existent. He must be one who cannot, without an absurdity, be divested of His existence. He must therefore, be identified with existence itself, a concept which excludes every demand for further explanation and sets our mind at rest.

Note.-(1) For the purpose of this argument, it would have been sufficient to show that there is at least one contingent being in the world. From that one contingent being we could have proved the existence of a Self-existent Being.

Note.-(2) To the beginner in these studies, the proofs from Motion, Causality and Dependence may seem to be much alike. It is therefore well to point out that each leads to a distinct notion of the Supreme Being:

The proof from Motion shows that He is not moved by any other being.

The proof from Causality shows that He is not produced by any other being.

The proof from Dependence shows that He exists necessarily; that He exists without the help of any other being.

In addition to the proofs for the existence of God set forth above, there are many others. Among them may be mentioned, in particular, the Aesthetic Argument, based on the perception of beauty in the universe, the Ethical Argument, based on the voice of conscience , and the Moral Argument or the Argument from the universal belief of mankind.

V THE NATURE OF GOD AS KNOWN FROM REASON

By the light of pure reason we may arrive at some knowledge of the Nature of God from the fact that He is the First Cause, eternal, selfexistent.

We can show that, since by the mere act of His will, He can call things out of nothingness into actual existence, and annihilate them at His pleasure, He must be the Master of existence, subject to no deficiency and containing within Himself in some higher way every created perfection that can possibly exist; in other words, we can show that He must be infinitely perfect-infinitely perfect in Power and Knowledge and Goodness and in the splendor of Beauty. But, to those who have been taught by Bethlehem and Calvary to know Him and love Him with a warm, personal love, our philosophic arguments must appear to be as chill and formal as the propositions of geometry. The Incarnation of the Son of God has given sight to us men who were groping in darkness; He who dwelt among us has thrown a light on the Divine Nature which does not shine from the ablest treatise on philosophy.

ENDNOTES

1. Attention is directed to footnote 47, where it is shown that the resurrection of Christ enables us to dispense with the philosophical proof for the existence of God given in this chapter.

2. Order is unity or uniformity amid variety. Order is present when several different things combine to produce a single effect or result. Examples: (1) A watch consists of the case, the dial, the hands, a multiplicity of wheels and other arrangements: each part contributes towards the production of a single result, viz., the convenient indication of the hour. (2) the human body consists of a great number of members and organs, yet all help, each in its own way, towards the well-being of the whole.

Order is the result of design. Design may, therefore, be defined as the planning of order.

3. Principa III, Sch. Gen.

4. Text of St. Thomas Aquinas.-We observe that some things which are without understanding such as natural bodies, operate for an end (as appears from the fact that always or more frequently they operate in the same way to arrive at what is best): whence it is clear that they attain this end not by chance but by intention. Now, these things which do not possess understanding operate for a purpose only in so far as they are directed by a being endowed with intelligence: just as an arrow is directed by the archer. Therefore. there is an intelligent Being, by whom all the things of nature are directed to their end. And this Being we call God.” St. Thomas, Summa Til. I, q. 2, a. 2.

5. A remarkable instance of design appears in the set of organs for the reception, mastication, and digestion of our food. The mouth with its flexible muscles by which it opens and closes, receives the food; the tongue and palate register its agreeable or disagreeable taste; the teeth cut and crush it; the salivary glands pour out their juices to prepare it for digestion; the muscles of the throat draw down the masticated food through the alimentary canal to the stomach where the digestive juices convert it into such a form that it can bring nutrition to every part of the body. This admirable system of organs, all conducing to the achievement of a single purpose, viz., the preservation and strengtheni ng of life, bears the unmistakable impress of design.

6. In the proof from Order, we examined separate things, such as the human eye and the human hand we showed that each is the outcome of design; that each, therefore points to a Designer.

In the proof from Law, we assume with modern adversaries that all instances of orderly arrangement in the world are due to the operation of Nature’s Laws. We prove against them that these Laws themselves give us no final explanation, but demand the existence of an Intelligent Lawgiver.

7. A law of nature, or physical law, may be merely a formal statement of what regularly occurs in nature, or it may denote the cause of such regularity. We use the expression in the latter sense: let us then define a law of nature as “the cause of a certain regularity observed in nature.” It must not be inferred, however, that we claim any exact knowledge of the cause of each set of regularly occurring phenomena. That the cause exists we are certain, but as to its precise nature and mode of operation we need not profess to know anything.

8. We abstract for the moment from the rare interpositions to which according to the doctrine of miracles, the laws of nature are subject

9. The ammophila hirsuta.

10. Fabre, the chief authority on entomology, from whose work, “Souvenirs Entomologiques” (Paris: Delegrave) the above example is taken, says that the behavior of the larvae is still more astounding. While eating into the live worm, they take care to avoid the vital parts; were they to injure even one of these, the worm would die and they would perish for want of fresh food. This, says Fabre, is “the miracle of miracles.” Fabre was a Catholic and for a long time an indifferent one. Many years before his death he was touched by God’s grace, in a spirit of great devotion and penance, he returned to the practice of his religion and continued faithful to the end. But even during his period of indifferentism, he did not deny God’s existence. He never had anything, but scorn for the feeble and foolish attempts of other scientists to evade the truth that instinct points straight to God.

11. Our argument does not require us to specify the nature of the help. The help may be a true cause or a stimulus, or it may consist in the removal of an obstacle.

12. You may urge your objection still further and say: “An angel is not in any way dependent on bodily senses. The intellect of an angel therefore, can move itself, that is, it can obtain ideas without external help.” No; the intellect of all angel could not per form its first act, unless it were affected in some way by an object distinct from it. Some one has to make the link between the mind of the angel and the first tr uth it knows.

13. But,” you may say, “the series of wheels could be infinite.” Very well, let us suppose so. But let us suppose also that the wheels have the gift of speech and can answer a question. Ask any one of them, “Are you the cause of the motion I see in you? “It will answer, “No,” and all the members of the infinite series will give the same reply. We get an infinite number of “Noes” to an infinite number of questions. We must therefore look outside the infinite series for the source of that motion which we see flowing from member to member.

14. Just as it is idle to inquire why a circle is round, for it is round of its very nature.

15. We may bring out the point of this argument by means of a humorous illustration used for a somewhat different purpose by W. G. Ward in his work, “The Philosophy of Theism,” vol II, p. 173. He supposes a “philosophical” mouse to be enclosed in a pianoforte. The mouse discovers that every sound of the instrument is produced by a vibration of the strings, and the vibration of the strings by taps of the hammers. “Thus far I have already prosecuted my researches,” says the mouse. And he goes on with all the blithe optimism of the Atheist: “So much is evident even now, viz., that the sounds proceed not . . . from any external agency, but from the uniform operation of fixed 1aws. These laws may be explored by intelligent mice, and to their exploration I shall devote my life.” And so, the mouse arguing himself out of the old belief of his kind, becomes convinced that the piano-player has no existence.

16. These laws are generalizations from a number of observed facts.

17. Energy is the power of doing work. Any cause which changes or tends to change a body’s state of rest or motion is termed a force. A force does work when it overcomes a resistance. Examples: The force exerted by a horse, in drawing a wagon, does work. The force exerted by a man in raising a weight, and the pressure of the steam in moving the piston of an engine, also do work. Cf. Chapter IV Objections B, 2.

18. This argument is a direct deduction from established physical laws: See Preston’s “Heat,” pp. 296–298. Addressed to Materialists, it is an “argumentum ad hominem,” i.e., an argument based on their own admissions. They, in common with all physicists, regard the laws of energy as the very foundation of physical science. It has been suggested that there may be a means in nature for the sudden restoration of useful energy (cataclysmic theory). But this is merely a gratuitous assumption unsupported even by a scrap of scientific evidence.

19. Cf. footnote 36 of this chapter.

20. Consider, e.g. . our planet alone: (1) The distribution of land and water is insensibly, but constantly changing; (2) the earth’s rotatory motion is getting slower and slower, because the tide, the great bank of water piled up by the attraction of the moon, acts as a brake on it; (3) the motion of the earth round the sun is being retarded, because of friction with clouds of meteoric dust: the earth is, therefor e, ever being drawn nearer to the sun. Enormous changes will result, after the lapse of ages, as a consequence of (2) and (3).

21. The point of the argument can be illustrated as follows:-Suppose that last year a sculptor gave you a full description of a statue he intended making, and that today you are looking at the successfully completed work. Your description of the statue, as it is now, would correspond exactly to the sculptor’s description a year ago when the statue as yet had no existence. The description of the s tatue tells us the nature of the statue, and does not include the statement that “the statue must exist.”

To borrow a term from chemistry, the description of a thing’s nature may be called its formula. The formula shows us a possible being and nothing more; it shows us a being that can exist; it does not say that the being must exist. We can construct a great number of formulae corresponding to things actually existing, but we know that there must be an indefinitely greater number corresponding to things which, as a fact, have never existed and never will exist, and yet each one of these unknown formulae would fully describe the characteristics of a particular and possible being.

22. You may object that the soul of man is immortal, and therefore must go on existing forever without any help. No that is a false conclusion. The soul of man does not exist of itself; it does not exist without help; if it did, it would never have begun to exist; it would always have existed. But as long as it is kept in existence, it cannot fall to pieces like the body, because it is not made up of pa rts. Hence, when we say that it is immortal, we mean that it will last forever, unless He who holds it in existence withdraws His help.

23. Max Planck: “Where is Science Going?” p. 196. London: Allen & Unwin, 1933.

24. Electric activity “together with the elemental quantum of action.” See Max Planck, ibid.

25. We might have ruled out the discussion of the nebula and fundamental atoms by simply asserting that the word “existence” will not be found in the description of either of them.

26. i.e., “deemed absolute,” as the context makes clear.

27. i. e., the physical scientist.

28. Op. cit, pp. 198, 199.

Apparition of The Blessed Virgin

ON THE MOUNTAIN OF LA SALETTE

INDEX

THE 19TH OF SEPTEMBER, 1846

THE APPARITION

Only the witness herself, Melanie, can, along with Maximin, give an account of the apparition. After giving it by word of mouth an incalculable number of times, she decided to write it all down in 1878. It was published at Lecce on the 15th of November 1879 with the “Imprimatur” of Bishop Zola and reprinted “ne varietur” at Lyon in 1904, a few months before Melanie’s death. This slim booklet is now a rarity. The text is followed exactly here.

APPARITION of the BLESSED VIRGIN on the Mountain of LA SALETTE the 19th of September, 1846 Published by the Shepherdess of La Salette with Imprimatur by Mgr. Bishop of Lecce.

“Well my children, you will pass this on to all of my people.”

Simple reproduction without commentary or controversy of the original edition of Lecce in 1879.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

The original text of the Message and Secret of La Salette, approved by the Catholic Church, are published in their entirety here for the first time in the English Language.

We sincerely thank Mr. Joseph Corteville, President of the Association of the Children of Notre Dame of La Salette and of Saint Louis Marie Grignion of Montfort, and Director of L’Impartial, a Marian revue to have graciously supplied us with this manuscript and for authorizing us to publish same.

In our turn, we authorize all people, journalist, editor or association to republish this faithfully in whole or in part.

It is essential that these prophetic messages be wide spread more than ever in all of the world and as quickly as possible. It is an order from the Mother of God. “Well my children, you will pass it on to all of my people. “

We are counting on the support and initiative of all people of good will to attain our goal. We ask Our Lady’s blessings on this apostolate and its supporters.

The Editors

I

“On the 18th of September (1846), the eve of the Holy Apparition of the Holy Virgin, I was alone, as usual, watching over my Master’s cows. Around eleven o’clock in the morning, I saw a small boy walking towards me. I was frightened at this, for it seemed to me that everyone ought to know that I avoided all kinds of company. This boy came up to me and said:

“Little girl, I’m coming with you, I’m from Corps, too.” At these words, the natural evil in me soon showed itself, and taking a few steps back, I told him: “I don’t want anybody around. I want to be alone.” But this boy followed me, saying: “Go on, let me stay with you. My Master told me to come and watch over my cows together with yours. I’m from Corps.”

I walked away from him, gesturing to him that I didn’t want anybody around, and when I was some distance away, I sat down on the grass. There, I used to talk with the little flowers or the Good Lord.

A moment later, I looked behind me, and there I found Maximin sitting close to me. Straightaway he says to me: “Keep me with you. I’ll be very good.”

But the natural evil in me will not hear reason. I jump to my feet, and run a little farther off without saying a word and again I start playing with the little flowers of the Good Lord. In an instant, Maximin was there again, telling me he would be very good, that he wouldn’t talk, that he would get bored all by himself, and that his Master had sent him to be with me, etc. This time, I took pity, I gestured to him to sit down, and I kept on playing with the little flowers of the Good Lord.

It wasn’t long before Maximin broke the silence by bursting into laughter (I think he was making fun of me). I look at him and he says to me: “Let’s have some fun, let’s make up a game.” I said nothing in reply, for I was so ignorant I didn’t understand what games with other people were, always having been alone. I played with the flowers, on my own, and Maximin came right up close to me, doing nothing but laughing, telling me that flowers didn’t have ears to listen to me and that we should play together instead. But I had no liking for the game he told me to play. I started talking to him, however, and he told me that the ten days he was to spend with his Master would soon be over and then he would go home to his father in Corps etc . . .

While he was talking, I heard the bell of La Salette, it was the Angelus. I gestured to Maximin to lift his soul up to God. He took off his hat and was silent for a moment. Then I said: “Do you want to have dinner?” “Yes, he replied, let’s eat.” We sat down and I brought out of my bag the provisions my Master had given me. As was my habit, before breaking into my little round loaf, I made a cross with the point of my knife in the bread, and a little hole in the middle, saying: “If the devil’s in there, may he leave, and if the Good Lord is in there, may he stay!” and I rapidly covered up the little hole. Maximin burst into laughter and kicked the loaf out of my hands. It rolled down the mountainside and was lost from sight. I had another piece of bread which we shared. Afterwards, we played a game. Then, realizing that Maximin must still be hungry, I pointed out a place on the mountainside covered with all kinds of berries. I urged him to go and eat some and he went straight away. He ate a few berries and brought back his hat full of them. In the evening we walked back down the mountain together and promised to come back the next day and watch over our cows together.

The next day, the 19th of September, I met Maximin on the way up. We climbed up the mountain side together. I discovered that Maximin was a very good, simple boy, and would willingly talk about what I wanted to talk about. He was also very flexible and had no fixed opinions. He was just a little curious, for, when I walked away from him, as soon as he saw I had stopped, he would run over to me to see what I was doing and hear what I was saying to the flowers of the Good Lord. And if he arrived too late, he would ask me what I had said.

Maximin told me to teach him a game. It was already late morning. I told him to gather some flowers for the “Paradise.” We set to work together. Soon we had a number of flowers of various colours. I could hear the village Angelus ringing, for the weather was fine and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. Having told the Good Lord what we had learned, I said to Maximin that we ought to drive our cows on to a small plateau near the gully, where there would be stones with which to build the “Paradise.” We drove our cows to the selected spot and then had a small meal. Then we started collecting stones to build our little house, which comprised of a so-called ground-floor which was where we were to live, and then a storey above which was to be, as we called it, “Paradise.”

This storey was decorated all over with different-coloured flowers, with garlands hanging from flower stalks. This “Paradise” was covered by a single large stone which we had strewn with flowers. We had also hung garlands all the way round. When we had finished, we sat and looked at the “Paradise.” We began to feel sleepy and having moved a couple of feet away, we went to sleep on the grass.

II

When I woke up I couldn’t see the cows, so I called Maximin and climbed up the little mound. From there I could see our cows grazing peacefully and I was on my way down, with Maximin on his way up, when all at once I saw a beautiful light shining more brightly than the sun.

“Maximin, do you see what is over there? Oh! my God!” At the same moment, I dropped the stick I was holding. Something inconceivably fantastic passed through me in that moment, and I felt myself being drawn. I felt a great respect, full of love, and my heart beat faster.

I kept my eyes firmly fixed on this light, which was static, and as if it had opened up, I caught sight of another, much more brilliant light which was moving, and in this light I saw a most beautiful lady sitting on top of our Paradise, with her head in her hands.

This beautiful Lady stood up, she coolly crossed her arms while watching us, and said to us:

“Come, my children, fear not, I am here to PROCLAIM GREAT NEWS TO YOU.” These soft and sweet words made me fly to her, and my heart desired to attach itself to her forever.

When I was up close to the Beautiful Lady, in front of her to her right, she began to speak and from her beautiful eyes tears also started to flow.

“If my people do not wish to submit themselves, I am forced to let go of the hand of my Son. It is so heavy and weighs me down so much I can no longer keep hold of it.

1 have suffered all the time for the rest of you! If I do not wish my Son to abandon you, I must take it upon myself to pray for this continually. And the rest of you think little of this. In vain you will pray, in vain you will act, you will never be able to make up for the troubles 1 have taken over for the rest of you.

I gave you six days to work, 1 kept the seventh for myself, and no one wishes to grant it to me. This is what weighs down the arm of my Son so much.

Those who drive carts cannot speak without putting the name of my Son in the middle.

These are the two things which weigh down the arm of my Son so much. If the harvest is spoiled, it is only because of the rest of you. 1 made you see this last year with the potatoes, you took little account of this. It was quite the opposite when you found bad potatoes, you swore oaths, and you included the name of my Son. They will continue to go bad, at Christmas there will be none left.”

At this point, I was trying to interpret the word “potatoes” (pommes de terre): I thought I understood it to be “apples” (pommes) *. The Beautiful and Good Lady, reading my thoughts, repeated thus:

“You do not understand, my children. 1 will tell it to you another way.

“If the harvest is soiled, it does not seem to affect you. I made you see this last year with the potatoes. You took little account of this. It was quite the opposite when you found bad potatoes, you swore oaths, and you included the name of my Son. They will continue to go bad and at Christmas, there will be none left.

If you have corn, you must not sow it. The beasts will eat all that you sow. And all that grows will fall to dust when you thresh it. A great famine will come. Before the famine comes, children under the age of seven will begin to tremble and will die in the arms of those who hold them. The others will do penance through hunger. The nuts will go bad, the grapes will become rotten.”

At this point, the Beautiful Lady, who was entrancing me, for a moment did not make herself heard. I could see, however, that she was continuing, as if speaking, to move graciously her kindly lips. At this moment, Maximin was receiving his secret. Then, turning to me, the Most Holy Virgin spoke to me and gave me a secret in French. Here is this secret in its entirety as she gave it to me:

III

“Melanie, what I am about to tell you now will not always be a secret. You may make it public in 1858. The priests, ministers of my Son, the priests, by their wicked lives, by their irreverence and their impiety in the celebration of the holy mysteries, by their love of money, their love of honours and pleasures, the priests have become cesspools of impurity. Yes, the priests are asking vengeance, and vengeance is hanging over their heads. Woe to the priests and to those dedicated to God who by their unfaithfulness and their wicked lives are crucifying my Son again! The sins of those dedicated to God cry out towards Heaven and call for vengeance, and now vengeance is at their door, for there is no one left to beg mercy and forgiveness for the people. There are no more generous souls, there is no one left worthy of offering a stainless sacrifice to the Eternal for the sake of the world.

God will strike in an unprecedented way.

Woe to the inhabitants of the earth! God will exhaust His wrath upon them, and no one will be able to escape so many afflictions together.

*. Neither Melanie nor Maximin understood French. The beautiful Lady now continues her speech in “patois.”

The chiefs, the leaders of the people of God have neglected prayer and penance, and the devil has bedimmed their intelligence. They have become wandering stars which the old devil will drag along with his tail to make them perish. God will allow the old serpent to cause divisions among those who reign in every society and in every family. Physical and moral agonies will be suffered. God will abandon mankind to itself and will send punishments which will follow one after the other for more than thirty-five years.

The Society of men is on the eve of the most terrible scourges and of gravest events. Mankind must expect to be ruled with an iron rod and to drink from the chalice of the wrath of God.

May the curate of my Son, Pope Pius IX never leave Rome again after 1859; may he, however, be steadfast and noble, may he fight with the weapons of faith and love. I will be at his side. May he be on his guard against Napoleon: he is two-faced, and when he wishes to make himself Pope as well as Emperor, God will soon draw back from him. He is the master-mind who, always wanting to ascend further, will fall on the sword he wished to use to force his people to be raised up.

Italy will be punished for her ambition in wanting to shake off the yoke of the Lord of Lords. And so she will be left to fight a war; blood will flow on all sides. Churches will be locked up or desecrated. Priests and religious orders will be hunted down, and made to die a cruel death. Several will abandon the faith, and a great number of priests and members of religious orders will break away from the true religion; among these people there will even be bishops.

May the Pope guard against the Performers of miracles. For the time has come when the most astonishing wonders will take place on the earth and in the air.

In the year 1864, Lucifer together with a large number of demons will be unloosed from hell; they will put an end to faith little by little, even in those dedicated to God. They will blind them in such a way, that, unless they are blessed with a special grace, these people will take on the spirit of these angels of hell; several religious institutions will lose all faith and will lose many souls.

Evil books will be abundant on earth and the spirits of darkness will spread everywhere a universal slackening in all that concerns the service of God. They will have great power over Nature: there will be churches built to serve these spirits. People will be transported from one place to another by these evil spirits, even priests, for they will not have been guided by the good spirit of the Gospel which is a spirit of humility, charity and zeal for the glory of God. On occasions, the dead and the righteous will be brought back to life. (That is to say that these dead will take on the form of righteous souls which had lived on earth, in order to lead men further astray; these so-called resurrected dead, who will be nothing but the devil in this form, will preach another Gospel contrary to that of the true Christ Jesus, denying the existence of Heaven; that is also to say, the souls of the damned. All these souls will appear as if fixed to their bodies).*

Everywhere there will be extraordinary wonders, as true faith has faded and false light brightens the people. Woe to the Princes of the Church who think only of piling riches upon riches to protect their authority and dominate with pride.

*. In a letter to Father Combe, dated October 7th, 1899, Melanie corrects these words in parenthesis which are her own, she says, and which she judges to be unclear and inaccurate. “That is to say,” she writes, “that in those days, which only seem like twenty years ago, some perverted people (Italian: malvages) had given themselves over to devotion to the demon of magic. These people would cause to appear in the eyes of the curious, acquainted and theirs who had not led a Christian way of life.

These supposedly resurrected individuals appeared in heavenly glory. People known to have lived in the fear of God appeared to be in horrible suffering, and urged their friends and acquaintances not to follow in their footsteps, and they preached a Gospel opposed to that of Our Lord Jesus Christ. It seems that these bizarre occurrences may be put down to the fashion for spiritualistic evocations and for certain spiritualistic and demoniac practices which no doubt will one day be brought to light through a thorough examination of the Luciferian archives of Freemasonry.”

In the same letter, Melanie takes care to explain that where it is said that people will be transported from one place to another, it must be understood as to be in rare cases only.

The Vicar of my Son will suffer a great deal, because for a while the Church will yield to large persecution, a time of darkness and the Church will witness a frightful crisis.

The true faith to the Lord having been forgotten, each individual will want to be on his own and be superior to people of same identity, they will abolish civil rights as well as ecclesiastical, all order and all justice would be trampled underfoot and only homicides, hate, jealousy, lies and dissension would be seen without love for country or family.

The Holy Father will suffer a great deal. I will be with him until the end and receive his sacrifice.

The mischievous would attempt his life several times to do harm and shorten his days but neither him nor his successor will see the triumph of the Church of God.

All the civil governments will have one and the same plan, which will be to abolish and do away with every religious principal, to make way for materialism, atheism, spiritualism and vice of all kinds.

In the year 1865, there will be desecration of holy places. In convents, the flowers of the Church will decompose and the devil will make himself like the King of all hearts. May those in charge of religious communities be on their guard against the people they must receive, for the devil will resort to all his evil tricks to introduce sinners into religious orders, for disorder and the love of carnal pleasures will be spread all over the earth.

France, Italy, Spain and England will be at war. Blood will flow in the streets. Frenchman will fight Frenchman, Italian will fight Italian. A general war will follow which will be appalling. For a time, God will cease to remember France and Italy because the Gospel of Jesus Christ has been forgotten. The wicked will make use of all their evil ways. Men will kill each other, massacre each other even in their homes.

At the first blow of His thundering sword, the mountains and all Nature will tremble in terror, for the disorders and crimes of men have pierced the vault of the heavens. Paris will burn and Marseille will be engulfed. Several cities will be shaken down and swallowed up by earth quakes. People will believe that all is lost.

Nothing will be seen but murder, nothing will be heard but the clash of arms and blasphemy.

The righteous will suffer greatly. Their prayers, their penances and their tears will rise up to Heaven and all of God’s people will beg for forgiveness and mercy and will plead for my help and intercession. And then Jesus Christ, in an act of His justice and His great mercy will command His Angels to have all His enemies put to death. Suddenly, the persecutors of the Church of Jesus Christ and all those given over to sin will perish and the earth will become desert-like. And then peace will be made, and man will be reconciled with God. Jesus Christ will be served, worshipped and glorified. Charity will flourish everywhere. The new kings will be the right arm of the holy Church, which will be strong, humble, pious in It’s poor but fervent imitation of the virtues of Jesus Christ. The Gospel will be preached everywhere and mankind will make great progress in it’s faith, for there will be unity among the workers of Jesus Christ and man will live in fear of God.

This peace among men will be short-lived. Twenty-five years of plentiful harvests will make them forget that the sins of men are the cause of all the troubles on this earth.

A forerunner of the Antichrist, with his troops gathered from several nations, will fight against the true Christ, the only Saviour of the world. He will shed much blood and will want to annihilate the worship of God to make himself be looked upon as a God.

The earth will be struck by calamities of all kinds (in addition to plague and famine which will be wide-spread). There will be a series of wars until the last war, which will then be fought by the ten Kings of the Antichrist, all of whom will have one and the same plan and will be the only rulers of the world. Before thus comes to pass, there will be a kind of false peace an the world. People will think of nothing but amusement. The wicked will give themselves over to all kinds of sin. But the children of the holy Church, the children of my faith, my true followers they will grow in their love for God and in all the virtues most precious to me. Blessed are the souls humbly guided by the Holy Spirit! 1 shall fight at their side until they reach a fullness of years.

Nature is asking for vengeance because of man, and she trembles with dread at what must happen to the earth stained with crime. Tremble, earth and you who proclaim yourselves as serving Jesus Christ and who on the inside, only adore yourselves, tremble for God will hand you over to His enemy, because the holy places are in a state of corruption. Many convents are no longer houses of God, but the grazing-grounds of Asmodeas and his like. It will be during this time that the Antichrist will be born of a Hebrew nun, a false virgin who will communicate with the old serpent, the master of impurity, his father will be B. At birth, he will spew out blasphemy; he will have teeth, in a word, he will be the devil incarnate. He will scream horribly, he will perform wonders, he will feed on nothing but impurity. He will have brothers who, although not devils incarnate like him, will be children of evil. At the age of twelve, they will draw attention upon themselves by the gallant victories they will have won; soon they will each lead armies, aided by the legions of hell.

The seasons will be altered, the earth will produce nothing but bad fruit, the stars will lose their regular motion, the moon will only reflect a faint reddish glow. Water and fire will give the earth’s globe convulsions and terrible earthquakes which will swallow up mountains, cities, etc . . .

Rome will lose the faith and become the seat of the Antichrist.

The demons of the air together with the Antichrist will perform great wonders on earth and in the atmosphere, and men will become more and more perverted. God will take care of his faithful servants and men of good will. The Gospel will be preached everywhere, and all peoples of all nations will get to know the truth.

I make an urgent appeal to the earth. I call on the true disciples of the living God who reigns in Heaven; I call on the true followers of Christ made man, the only true Saviour of men; 1 call on my children, the true faithful, those who have given themselves to me so that I may lead them to my divine Son, those whom I carry in my arms, so to speak, those who have lived on my spirit. Finally, I call on the Apostles of the Last Days, the faithful disciples of Jesus Christ who have lived in scorn for the world and for themselves, in poverty and in humility, in scorn and in silence, in prayer and in mortification, in chastity and in union with God, in suffering and unknown to the world. It is time they came out and filled the world with light. Go and reveal yourselves to be my cherished children. I am at your side and within you, provided that your faith is the light which shines upon you in these unhappy days. May your zeal make you famished for the glory and the honour of Jesus Christ. Fight, children of light, you, the few who can see. For now is the time of all times, the end of all ends.

The Church will be in eclipse, the world will be in dismay. But now Enoch and Eli will come, filled with the Spirit of God. They will preach with the might of God, and men of goodwill will believe in God, and many souls will be comforted. They will make great steps forward through the virtue of the Holy Spirit and will condemn the devilish lapses of the Antichrist. Woe to the inhabitants of the earth! There will be bloody wars and famines, plagues and infectious diseases. It will rain with a fearful hail of animals. There will be thunderstorms which will shake cities, earthquakes which will swallow up countries. Voices will be heard in the air. Men will beat their heads against walls, call for their death, and on another side death will be their torment. Blood will flow on all sides. Who will be the victor if God does not shorten the length of the test? All the blood, the tears and the prayers of the righteous, God will relent. Enoch and Eli will be put to death. Pagan Rome will disappear. The fire of Heaven will fall and consume three cities. All the universe will be struck with terror and many will let themselves be led astray because they have not worshipped the true Christ who lives among them. It is time; the sun is darkening; only faith will survive.

Now is the time; the abyss is opening. Here is the King of Kings of darkness, here is the Beast with his subjects, calling himself the Saviour of the world. He will rise proudly into the air to go to Heaven. He will be smothered by the breath of the Archangel Saint Michael. He will fall, and the earth, which will have been in a continuous series of evolutions for three days, will open up its fiery bowels; and he will have plunged for eternity with all his followers into the everlasting chasms of hell. And then water and fire will purge the earth and consume all the works of men’s pride and all will be renewed. God will be served and glorified.”

IV

Then the Holy Virgin gave me, also in French, THE RULE OF A NEW RELIGIOUS ORDER. When She had given me the Rule of this new religious Order, the Holy Virgin continued the speech in the same manner. (In patois) “If they convert, the stones and rocks will change into wheat, and potatoes will be found sown in the earth. Do you say your prayers properly, my children?”

We both replied: “Oh! no, Madame, not so much.”

“Oh! my children, you must say them morning and evening. By then you can do no more, say a Pater and an Ave

Maria; and when you have the time to do better, you will say more.

Only a few old women go to Mass; in the summer, the rest work all day Sunday and in the winter, when they are at a looseend, they only go to mass to make fun of religion. During Lent, they go to the butcher’s like hungry dogs. Have your ever seen any spoilt wheat, my children?

We both answered: “Oh no, Madame.” The Holy Virgin turned to Maximin, saying:

“But you, my child, you must have seen some once near le “Coin,” with your father. The farmer said to your father:

“Come and see how my wheat’s gone bad!” You went to see. Your father took two or three ears in his hand, rubbed them, and they fell to dust. Then, on your way back, when you were no more than half an hour away from Corps, your father gave you a piece of bread, and said: “Take it, eat it while you can, my son, for 1 don’t know who will be eating anything next year if the wheat is spoiled like that!”

Maximin replied: “It’s quite true, Madame, I didn’t remember.”

The Most Holy Virgin brought her speech to an end in French.

“AND SO, MY CHILDREN, YOU WILL PASS THIS ON TO ALL MY PEOPLE.”

The most beautiful Lady crossed the stream, and after two more steps, without turning back towards us, who were following Her (for we were drawn to her by her brilliance and even more by her kindness which elated me, which seemed to melt my heart, she repeated to us: “AND SO, MY CHILDREN, YOU WILL PASS THIS ON TO ALL MY PEOPLE.” Then, She walked on up to the place where I had gone to see our cows. Her feet touched nothing but the tips of the grass and without bending them. Once on the top of the little mound, the beautiful Lady stopped, and I hurried to stand in front of Her to look at Her so, so closely, and try and see which path she was most inclined to take. For it was all over for me. I had forgotten both my cows and the masters I worked for. I had linked myself forever and unconditionally to my

Lady. Yes, I wanted never, never to leave Her. I followed Her with no other motive and fully disposed to serve Her for the rest of my life.

In the presence of my Lady, I felt I had forgotten paradise. I thought of nothing more but to serve Her in every way possible; and I felt I could have done everything she could have asked me to do, for it seemed to me that She had a great deal of power. She looked at me with a tender kindness which drew me to Her. I could have thrown myself into Her arms with my eyes closed. She did not give me the time to do so. She rose imperceptibly from the ground to a height of around four feet or more; and, hanging thus in the air for a split second, my beautiful Lady looked up to Heaven, then down on the earth to her right and then her left *, then She looked at me with Her eyes so soft, so kind and so good that I felt She was drawing me inside Her, and my heart seemed to open up to Hers.

And as my heart melted away, sweetly gladdened, the beautiful face of my good Lady disappeared little by little. It seemed to me that the light in motion was growing stronger, or rather condensing around the Most Holy Virgin, to prevent me seeing her any longer.

And thus light took the place of the parts of Her body which were disappearing in front of my eyes, or rather it seemed to me that the body of my Lady was melting into light. Thus the sphere of light rose gently towards the right. I cannot say whether the volume of light decreased as She rose, or whether the growing distance made me see less and less light as She rose. What I do know, is that I was a long time with my head raised up, staring at the light, even after the light, which kept getting further away and decreasing in volume, had finally disappeared. I take my eyes from the firmament, I look around

* “In which direction had the Holy Virgin turned when she rose?”

“That way (she pointed to the East) . . . I know that Rome is in that direction.”

(Conversation with Melanie, Miss des Brulais, 8th Sept. 1849.) me.

I see Maximin looking at me, and I say to him: “Maxi, that must have been my father’s Good Lord, or the Holy Virgin, or some other great saint”*

And Maximin throws his arms into the air and says: “Oh! If only I’d known!”

The evening of the 19thof September, we went back down a little earlier than usual. When I arrived at my master’s farm, I was busy tying up my cows and tidying up in the stable, and had not yet finished when my mistress came up to me in tears and said:

“Why, my child, why didn’t you come and tell me what happened on the mountain?”

Maximin, not having found his masters who were still at work, had come over to mine and recounted everything he had seen and heard. I replied:

“I did want to tell you, but I wanted to get my work finished first.” A moment later, I walked over to the house and my mistress said to me:

“Tell me what you have seen. De Bruite, the shepherd (that was the nick name of Pierre Selme, Maximin’s master), has told me everything.”

I began, and towards the middle of the account, my master arrived back from the fields. My mistress, who was in tears athearing the complaints and threats of our sweet Mother, said: “Ah! You were going to harvest the wheat tomorrow (Sunday). Take great care. Come and hear what happened today to this child and Pierre Selme’s shepherd-boy.” And turning to me, she said:

“Repeat everything you have said.”

I start again, and when I had finished, my master said:

“It was the Holy Virgin or else a great saint, who has come on behalf of the Good Lord, but it’s as if the Good Lord had come Himself. We must do what this Saint said. How are you going to manage to tell that to all Her people?”

I replied:

“You tell me how I must go about it, and I will do it.” Then, looking at his mother, wife, and brother, he added:

“I’ll have to think about that.” Then everyone went back to their business.

After supper, Maximin and his masters came over to see my masters and to recount what Maximin had told them, and decide what was to be done.

“For, they said, it seems to us that it was the Holy Virgin sent by the Good Lord. The words which She spoke convince us of this. And She told them to pass it on to all Her people. Perhaps these children will have to travel the world over to make it known that everyone must observe the commandments of the Good Lord, lest great misfortunes come upon us.”

After a moment’s silence, my master said to Maximin and I:

“Do you know what you must do, my children? Tomorrow, you must get up early and both of you go and see the priest and tell him everything you have seen and heard. Tell him carefully how it all happened. He will tell you what you have to do.”

The 20th of September, the day after the Apparition, I left early in the morning with Maximin. When we reached the presbytery, I knocked at the door. The priest’s housekeeper came and opened the door and asked us what we wanted. I said to her (in French, and I, who had never spoken French):

* . My Father’s Good Lord: this is the Crucifix, this living crucifix which the beautiful Lady wears round Her neck, and which seemed to talk to Her. The Holy Virgin . . . Melanie does not seem to have doubted for a moment that it was Her, this comes out in the account, however, she does not dare to be the first to state it: it is for the Church of Jesus Christ to do so, she has this intuition. In effect, the next morning, it is the parish priest of La Salette who cries out, at the account of the two children:

“It was the Holy Virgin who appeared to you,” and from the pulpit, will announce this to his parishioners, and to all the faithful ones among them.

“We would like to speak to Father Perrin.”

“And what have you got to say to him?” she asked.

“We wish to tell him, Miss, that yesterday we went up to watch over our cows on Baisses Mountain, and after dinner, etc . . . etc. We recounted a good piece of the Most Holy Vir gin’s words. Then the church-bell rang: it was the final call for Mass. Father Perrin, the parish priest of La Salette, who had heard us, flung open his door, he was in tears and was beating his chest. He said to us:

“My children, we are lost, God will pun ish us. Oh! Good Lord! It was the Holy Virgin who appeared to you! And he left to say Holy Mass. We looked at each other, Maximin, the housekeeper and I. Then Maximin said to me:

“Me, I’m off home to my father at Corps,” and we parted company.

As my masters had not told me to return to work immediately after speaking to Father Perrin, I saw no harm in going to Mass. And so I was in church. Mass begins and after the first reading from the Gospel, Father Perrin turns to the congregation and tries to recount to his parishioners, the story of the Apparition which had just taken place, the day before, on one of their mountains, and he urges them to stop working on Sundays. His voice was broken with sobs, and all the congregation was greatly moved. After Holy Mass, I went back to my masters to work. Mr. Peytard, who still today is the mayor of La Salette* came to question me on the Apparition, and when he had made sure that I was speaking the truth, he went away convinced.

I stayed on in the service of my masters until All Saint’s Day. Then I was boarded with the nuns of Providence, in my home town of Corps.

The Most Holy Virgin was tall and well-proportioned. She seemed so light that a mere breath could have stirred Her, yet She was motionless and perfectly balanced. Her face was majestic, imposing, but not imposing in the manner of the Lords here below. She compelled a respectful fear. At the same time as Her Majesty compelled respect mingled with love, She drew me to Her. Her gaze was soft and penetrating. Her eyes seemed to speak to mine, but the conversation came out of a deep and vivid feeling of love for this ravishing beauty who was liquifying me. The softness of Her gaze, Her air of incomprehensible goodness made me understand and feel that she was drawing me to Her and wanted to give Herself. It was an expression of love which cannot be expressed with the tongue of the flesh, nor with the letters of the alphabet.

The clothing of the Most Holy Virgin was silver white and quite brilliant. It was quite intangible. It was made up of light and glory, sparkling and dazzling. There is no expression nor comparison to be found on earth.

The Holy Virgin was all beauty and all love; the sight of Her overwhelmed me. In her finery as in Her person, everything radiated the majesty, the splendour, the magnificence of a Queen beyond compare. She seemed as white, immaculate, crystallized, dazzling, heavenly, fresh and new as a Virgin. The word LOVE seemed to slip from Her pure and silvery lips. She appeared to me like a good Mother, full of kindness, amiability, of love for us, of compassion and mercy.

The crown of roses which She had placed on Her head was so beautiful, so brilliant, that it defies imagination. The different coloured roses were not of this earth; it was a joining together of flowers which crowned the head of the Most Holy Virgin. But the roses kept changing and replacing each other, and then, from the heart of each rose, there shone a beautiful entrancing light, which gave the roses a shimmering beauty. From the crown of roses there seemed to arise golden branches and a number of other little flowers mingled with the shining ones. The whole thing formed a most beautiful diadem, which alone shone brighter than our earth’s sun. The Holy Virgin had a most pretty cross hanging round Her neck. This cross seemed golden, (I say golden rather than gold-plated, for I have sometimes seen objects which were golden with varying shades of gold, which had a much more beautiful effect on my eyes than simple goldplate). On this shining, beautiful cross, there was a Christ, it was Our Lord on the Cross. Near both ends of the cross there was a hammer, and at the other end, a pair of tongs. The Christ was skin-coloured, but He shone dazzingly; and the light that shone forth from His wholy body seemed like brightly shining darts which pierced my heart with the desire to melt inside Him. At

* Today: 21st of November 1878, when this account was written. times, the Christ appeared to be dead. His head was bent forward and His body seemed to give way, as if about to fall, had He not been held back by the nails which held him to the Cross.

I felt a deep compassion and would have liked to tell His unknown love to the whole world, and to let seep into mortal souls the most heartfelt love and gratitude towards a God who had no need whatsoever of us to be everything He is, was and always will be. And yet, O love that men cannot understand, He made Himself man, and wanted to die, yes, die, so as to better inscribe in our souls and in our memory, the passionate love He has for us! Oh, how wretched am I to find myself so poor in my expression of the love of our good Saviour for us! But, in another way, how happy we are to be able to feel more deeply that which we cannot express!

At other times, the Christ appeared to be alive. His head was erect, His eyes open, and He seemed to be on the cross of His own accord. At times, too, He appeared to speak: He seemed to show that He was on the cross for our sake, out of love for us, to draw us to His love, and that He always has more love to give us, that His love in the beginning and in the year 33 is always that of today and will be for ever more.

The Holy Virgin was crying nearly the whole time she was speaking to me. Her tears flowed gently, one by one, down to her knees, then, like sparks of light, they disappeared. They were glittering and full of love. I would have liked to comfort Her and stop Her tears. But it seemed to me that She needed the tears to show better Her love forgotten by men. I would have liked to throw myself into Her arms and say to Her:

“My kind Mother, do not cry! I want to love you for all men on earth.” But she seemed to be saying to me: “There are so many who know me not!”

I was in between life and death, and on one side, I saw so much desire by this Mother to be loved, and on another side, so much cold and indifference . . . Oh! my Mother, most beautiful and lovable Mother, my love, heart of my heart!

The tears of our sweet Mother, far from lessening her air of majesty, of a Queen and a Mistress, seemed, on the contrary, to embellish Her, to make Her more beautiful, more powerful, more filled with love, more maternal, more ravishing, and I could have wiped away Her tears which made my heart leap with compassion and love. To see a mother cry, and such a Mother, without doing everything possible to comfort her and change her grief into joy, is that possible? Oh! Mother, who is more than good, you have been formed with all the prerogatives God is able to make; you have married the power of God, so to speak; you are good, and more, you are good with the goodness of God Himself. God has extended Himself by making you His terrestrial and celestial masterpiece.

The Most Holy Virgin had a yellow pinafore. What am I saying, yellow? She had a pinafore more brilliant than several suns put together. It was not of tangible material, it was composed of glory, and this glory was scintillating, and ravishingly beautiful. Everything in the Holy Virgin carried me firmly and made me kind of slide into the adoration and love of my Jesus in every state of His mortal life.

The Most Holy Virgin had two chains, one a little wider than the other. From the narrower one hung the cross which I mentioned earlier. These chains (since they must be given the name of chains) were like rays of brightly shining glory, sparkling and dazzling. Her shoes, (since they must be called shoes) were white, but a silvery brilliant white. There were roses around them. These roses were dazzlingly beautiful, and from the heart of each rose there shone forth a flame of very beautiful and pleasing light. On Her shoes there was a buckle of gold, not the gold of this earth, but rather the gold of paradise.

The sight of the Holy Virgin was itself a perfect paradise. She had everything needed to satisfy, for earth had been forgotten. The Holy Virgin was surrounded by two lights. The first light, the nearer to the Most Holy Virgin, reached as far as us. It shone most beautifully and scintillatingly.

The second light shone out a little around the Beautiful Lady and we found ourselves bathed in it. It was motionless (that is to say that it wasn’t scintillating) but much more brilliant than our poor sun on earth. All this light did not harm nor tire the eyes in any way.

In addition to all these lights, all this splendour, there shone forth concentrations or beams of light and single rays of light from the body of the Holy Virgin, from her clothes and from all over Her.

The voice of the Beautiful Lady was soft. It was enchanting, ravishing, warming to the heart. It satisfied, flattered every obstacle, it soothed and softened. It seemed to me I could never stop eating up Her beautiful voice, and my heart seemed to dance or want to go towards Her and melt inside Her.

The eyes of the most Holy Virgin, our Sweet Mother, cannot be described in human language. To speak of them, you would need a seraph, you would need more than that, you would need the language of God Himself, of the God who formed the immaculate Virgin, the masterpiece of His omnipotence. The eyes of the majestic Mary appeared thousands of times more beautiful than the rarest brilliants, diamonds and precious stones. They shone like two suns; they were soft, softness itself, as clear as a mirror. In her eyes, you could see paradise. They drew you to Her, She seemed to want to draw and give Herself.

The more I looked, the more I wanted to see; the more I saw, the more I loved Her and I loved Her with all my might. The eyes ofthe beautiful Immaculate One were like the door to God’s Kingdom, from which you could see all than can elate the soul. When my eyes met those of the Mother of God and of myself, I felt inside me a happy revolution of love and a declaration that I love Her and am melting with love. As we looked at each other, our eyes spoke to each other in their fashion, and I loved Her so much I could have kissed Her in the middle of Her eyes, which touched my soul and seemed to draw it towards them and make it melt into Hers. Her eyes set up a sweet trembling in all my being; and I was afraid to make the slightest movement which might cause her the smallest displeasure.

Just the sight of the eyes of the purest of Virgins would have been enough to make the Heaven of a blessed creature, enough to fill the soul with the will of the Most High amid the events which occur in the course of mortal life, enough to make the soul perform continual acts of praise, of thanksgiving, of atonement and expiation. Just this sight focuses the soul on God, and makes it like a living-death, looking upon all the things of this earth, even the things which seem the most serious, as nothing but children’s playthings. The soul would want to hear no one speaking unless they spoke of God, and of that which affects His Glory.

Sin is the only evil She sees on earth. She will die of grief unless God sustains Her.

Amen.

Signed:

MARIA OF THE CROSS, Victim of Jesus née MELANIE CALVAT, Shepherdess of La Salette

Castellamare, 21st of November 1878.

“I anticipate with great pleasure the “Secret” cir culating at full extent; the more it spreads the more it will arouse salutary fear and numerous returns to God.

“Mary will bless those who help at the diffusion as she absolutely wants this passed on to all of the people. We are punished for having neglected this absolute order from the Mother of God.”

Extract from a letter of Melanie relating to the Secret of La Salette.

********

Are Indulgences For Sale?

BY GROVER ABLES

INDEX

FOREWORD

I know you will not expect Father Charlie, the priest that you will meet in these pages, to have the time to spare from his many parish duties in order to give his friend Doctor Bill a complete and systematic exposition of the doctrine of indulgences. Other scholars have done that; and Doctor Bill could get as detailed information on this or any other question of theology as he might wish from Father Charlie’s library.

Anyhow Doctor Bill is busy too and hasn’t the time to listen to long explanations and proofs. His interest is in finding out as briefly as possible just what the Catholic Church does teach about some of the questions he has heard his Protestant friends raise concerning Catholicism. He is a reasonable man, and he knows that his boyhood chum, Father Charlie, is reasonable too; so he wisely does not accept stories he hears about Catholic teachings which run counter to reason. Instead he checks upon the accuracy of what he hears by asking Father Charlie, who, he knows, will not mislead him.

You may not have, like Doctor Bill, a boyhood friend who is a priest. But no farther from you than your telephone or your letter box is any priest you may wish to question. If you live near a Catholic Church, nothing else would please the parish priest more than to have you call in person and ask him any question you like. Like Father Charlie, be has spent many years of his life in the study of philosophy and theology. He knows better than any Protestant friend of yours could be expected to know-no matter how scholarly-just what the Catholic Church believes and practises. He will answer your questions truthfully and accurately without making any attempt to proselytise you.

If you don’t believe me, try talking to him and see.

DOCTOR BILL was occupying his favourite chair on Father Charlie’s front porch one afternoon, his host sitting opposite at a table on which were a large plate of varied sandwiches and a glass of beer. Both men were too busy demolishing the refreshments to engage in much conversation until finally Doctor Bill leaned back in his chair with a comfortable sigh, wiping the crumbs from his mouth.

“That cook of yours is a marvel, Charlie,” he declared. “I haven’t eaten a sandwich to equal hers since I left home.” “She is good,” Father Charlie said, a little complacently. “I confess that she’s better with a stove than with a dustpan.

But nobody can be perfect. On the basis of the meals she serves, I can afford to be indulgent with her few shortcomings.” “Indulgent . . .” said Bill. “That reminds me. I”ve been meaning to ask you about indulgences. I”ve heard all sorts of stories about them, but I”ve never really known what an indulgence is. How about giving a little information?

MYSTERIOUS?. . . . SINISTER?

The two men-priest and doctor-had been reared together as boys, had played together, and had attended the same prep school. Although Bill was not a Catholic, their friendship had been close, and it had continued after they had gone their separate ways to college, to the seminary, to medical school. Both of them considered it a great stroke of fortune that their vocations had brought them to the same small southern city, and they lost no opportunity to take up and continue their association as far as their duties would permit.

Bill had a keen mind, which frequently challenged the priest’s. But underneath the doctor’s banter and his air of easy familiarity was a deep respect both for his friend and his office.

Father Charlie lit his pipe and settled back in his chair. “There is nothing either mysterious or sinister about indulgences, but the term does need a bit of explaining,” he admitted.

“You’re telling me?” grunted Bill. “One of my patients ran up an awful blood pressure the other day, proving to me that you give your parishioners permission to commit any sin they want to for a certain length of time. Showed me a little card he’d got some place. . . . had a prayer and picture of some saint on it. Underneath the prayer it said, “300 Days Indulgence.” Had the goods on you.”

“Dear me,” exclaimed Father Charlie, mildly. “What did you say to that?”

“Gave him a bromide and told himto lie down and rest for a couple of hours,” replied Bill, matter-of-factly.

MISLED

Father Charlie laughed unrestrainedly. “You may have the right approach to religious controversy, Bill,” he said, good- humouredly. “Sometimes I”m tempted to try something like that myself. But seriously-I know that many good people are misled by the term indulgence-although they could easily find out what the Church means and does not mean by it if only they would follow your example and ask a priest or read some Catholic book on thesubject.”

“Well, so far I haven’t got very far with the first of those methods,” growled Bill, with assumed severity. “Stop beati ng around the bush and come to the point. I can take it.”

“All right.” His friend smiled. “Since you want to get technical, here’s the official definition: “An indulgence is a remission, in whole or in part, of the temporal punishment due to sin.” How’s that?”

“Perfect!” declared Bill, airily. “Reminds me of our English classes under Skinny Peterson. He always made us look up the definitions of words we didn’t know the meanings of, and then all we had to do was look up the definitions of the words in the definition. It got monotonous. All right. I”11 be good. Tell me in your own way.”

Father Charlie puffed his pipe for a few moments. “Bill,” he began, “do you remember when we were in second year in prep school and I shot you in the eye with a marble during study hall?

REMINISCENCES

Bill chuckled. “Do I!” he exclaimed. “I”11 never forget how surprised I was. I let out a yell that brought down the plaster.”

Father Charlie smiled ruefully. “I didn’t mean to hit you in the eye,” he said. “You turned around just as I let go.”

“That’s fine, Charlie,” said Bill, generously. “It’s so consoling to know that you intended only to knock a hole in the back of my head.”

Both men laughed. “Do you recall what happened when you let out your yell ?” asked Father Charlie.

“Well, let’s see,” mused Bill. “There was a good deal of excitement, of course. I was pretty frightened and didn’t notice much of anything. But I remember that Mr. Benson was keeping study hall, and he didn’t see you do it. He never asked who did anythingif he didn’t see it done-and he didn’t see much. So I expect he just said as usual that he felt sure the guilty person would report his act to the principal after school. Funny thing-lots of fellows did that too.”

“I did anyhow,” Father Charlie said. “They hurried you off to the doctor to see how badly you were hurt, and I was scared to death. As soon as school was out, I went directly to Mr. Williams” office and told him what I had done.”

“I don’t remember, but I”11 bet he gave you plenty of detention after school,” Bill grinned.

TWOFOLD OFFENCE

“Ten hours,” said Father Charlie. “But first he talked to me about how serious my act had been. He reminded me that you might even be blinded. I was saying “Hail Marys” so fast to myself that I had trouble listening to Mr. Williams. But I do know he said that my offence had been against both you and the school, that I must ask your pardon, and that I should also pay your doctor’s bill from my pocket money since it was all my fault. I agreed fervently and told him that if he’d only forgive me I”d never shoot another marble from a rubber band as long as I lived. He saw how sorry I was, so he said he’d forgive me but that I must still be punished. That’s when he said “Ten hours detention-an hour a day after school.””

“I”d forgotten most of that,” said Bill. “But I do remember your abject apology to me. I never held it against you- though I should have, you heel! Bill looked at the priest affectionately.

“Detention hall was tough in those days,” Father Charlie recalled. “The study hall overlooked the playing field, you know, and the sight of the lucky fellows at practice was really hard to take.”

“I haven’t forgotten.” Bill spoke feelingly. “Mr. Williams was a pretty wise old bird; I”11 bet he put detention hall in thatroom to make our punishment worse.”

CANCELLED HOURS

“I”m sure he did,” agreed Father Charlie. “But he was a nice fellow too. Sometimes we thought he was strange because of some of the things he made us do; but I can see now what he was after in most cases. One good thing he did do: he saw that everybody memorised some good literature.”

Bill rose to his feet and struck a pose. ““to be, or not to be-that is the question: Whether “tis nobler. . . . . .” “That’s what I mean,” interrupted Father Charlie, hastily. “I can do that too-after twenty years. He was always offering rewards for learning the Declaration of Independence or some other such thing that we thought dry and uninteresting but that I am very glad now that I learned.”

“So am I,” said Bill, sourly, resuming his seat reluctantly. “. . . . even though now every time I try to use what I learned somebody stops me.”

The priest smiled at Bill’s air of injury. “One day while I was serving my ten hours” detention,” he continued, “and had got off three or four of them, Mr. Williams came into detention hall. Looking us over with that half-smile of his, he asked how many of us would like to have three hours taken off our time. Of course, everybody shouted at once. Mr. Williams” smile broadened as he said,”Then learn Wordsworth’s “Ode to Duty” by morning and recite it to me.”

“Sounds just like him,” Bill said.

“Naturally there were groans as Mr. Williams left the room; but I learned the piece in an hour or so that afternoon, and that put me three hours nearer the fun outside.”

WORK AND FREEDOM

“In a couple of days he was back in detention hall. In his usual abrupt way he said he hated to see us cooped up in a hot room when it was so much fun to be outside. All of us gave a roar at that, for he was the one who put us there. But I know now he meant it.

“He went on to say that he was going to give us a chance to cut our time short. Some prominent men were going to visit the school in a couple of days, and he was eager to have the grounds in good shape-the grass mowed, the weeds cut, the flagpole painted. Anyone who would turn out next afternoon and work till everything was done would have the rest of his time in detention hall cancelled.

“Did we applaud at that! It was fun working for Mr. Williams. Likely as not he would bring us cakes from the corner shop, we thought. And anyway it was good to be out in the sunshine, doing something. Mr. Williams left detention hall and the boys all felt good-till we thought of Benny Griscom.”

BENNY GRISCOM AND INDULGENCES

Here Bill began squirming in his seat, the red creeping up his neck. Father Charlie seemingly didn’t notice. “Benny was crippled from infantile paralysis and couldn’t do the work that had to be done. Mr. Williams didn’t think of him, or he would have let him do something else to get free from detention. And, of course, Benny wouldn’t squawk. But a certain boy in school heard of Mr. Williams” proposition and knew that Benny couldn’t take advantage of it. So he went to the principal and offered to work in Benny’s place to let Benny off. That was the time Mr. Williams had his famous coughing fit and blew his nose so long before he could talk. But he accepted the boy’s offer, the boy worked, and Benny got his time off. Do you remember?”

“Oh, well,” muttered Bill, uncomfortably, “I had to do something to get in with the principal. Benny helped me with my algebra too.He had brains, and I had brawn. What’s the big idea of bringing up all that anyhow?”

The priest looked softly at his friend. “I have just explained indulgences to you,” he replied, relaxing in his chair and relighting his pipe, which had gone out while he had been talking.

“I know,” Bill said, “but. . . . ,” He broke off abruptly and glared at Father Charlie, who sat contentedly blowing smoke rings. “You have just done what?”

NO MYSTERY

“Explained indulgences,” repeated Father Charlie. “What I have just recalled to you is a good illustration of what indulgences are and the conditions under which they may be gained.”

“All right,” sighed Bill, resignedly. “So it’s simple. But I”m simple too. You couldn’t elaborate just a trifle, could you?”

“Surely,” agreed Father Charlie. “Listen carefully now, and you’ll see that indulgences are no more mysterious than Mr. Williams” giving us time off from detention hall.”

“Shoot,” invited Bill, wriggling into his cushion.

“When a Catholic commits a grave sin-called in theology a mortal sin to distinguish it from lesser offences, which are termed venial sins-he is under obligation to confess that sin to a duly authorized priest. Before his confession is held by the Church to be of any value, however, he must be truly sorry that he committed the sin, he must resolve not to repeat it, he must agree to make restitution to any person that his sin may have injured, and he must be willing to accept the penance imposed by the priest. When these conditions obtain, and he makes his confession, the priest gives him absolution. This means that the priest, acting as God’s representative, forgives him in God’s Name for the offence against God.”

“You told me about that once,” assented Bill:

“I know,” said Father Charlie, “but I wanted to show you how this much is analogous to the marble-shooting episode. Let me make a rough sketch for you to see.”

ANALOGY

He wrote rapidly on a scratch-pad, while Bill peered interestedly over his shoulder.

1. I shoot the marble.

2. I am sorry for my act and resolve not to repeat it.

3. I admit my act to the principal, who has authority from the school managers to dispose of the case.

4. I promise to apologize to you and to pay your doctor’s bill.

5.I accept the principal’s sentence to remain ten hours after school.

6. The principal forgives me in the name of the school.

“Looks reasonable to me,” .said Bill, after he had read the outline carefully

OFFICIAL TEACHING

“Now to get specifically to the question of indulgences,” said Father Charlie. “The official teaching of the Church is that after a person has made a good confession and received absolution there still remains what is known as the temporal punishment due to sin. In other words, God’s justice demands that we suffer the consequences of our having offended against His laws. The priest’s penance helps to do this. Moreover we often observe that people suffer at least a part of this punishment in other ways while they are still on earth. For example, a man who has led an immoral life and then reforms may still have a weakened body in spite of his change of heart.”

“But we also know that there are many people who do not seem to receive during their lifetime the just punishment for their sinful deeds. Perhaps a person repents on his deathbed and has no time before his death to make satisfaction for his offences. Such persons, still not ready to enter the presence of God, have had a place mercifully prepared for them where they can have their souls cleansed from all the results of their sins and thus be fit to enter heaven. This place is called purgatory.”

“In other words, that’s where you stay in after school,” interposed Bill.

PART. . . . AND WHOLE

“Exactly,” smiled the priest. “The difference is, of course, that a boy might be kept after school and still be unrepentant but no unrepentant soul goes to purgatory. Only those whose sins are forgiven and who will go to heaven have that privilege; others go to a place of everlasting punishment.”

“I believe I”m beginning to see where your indulgences come in,” broke in Bill. “When Mr. Williams offered you three hours off if you memorized Wordsworth’s “Ode to Duty” he really offered you an indulgence, didn’t he?”

“That’s right,” Father Charlie assured him. “Since that was only a part of the time that some of us had to stay in, that was for us what the Church calls a partial indulgence. Mr. Williams had the authority to change a part-or all-of our punishment to a lighter one because of his official position. Through the power given the firstPope, Peter, to “bind and loose,” the Holy Father, as head of the Church on earth, has the authority to do the same thing with regard to the punishment due our forgiven sins. You remember that Our Lord told him”Whatsoever thou shall bind upon earth, it shall be bound also in heaven: and whatsoever thou shall loose on earth, it shall be loosed also in heaven.”

“Mr. Williams” cancelling all our detention after school,” continued Father Charlie, “is what we call a plenary indulgence. Both partial and plenary indulgences may be published by the Church and gained by penitents if they fulfil the required conditions.”

IMPERFECT ANALOGY

“I hate to mention this,” said Bill, “but where does Benny come in?”

“In a very important place,” said the priest, emphatically. “My analogy of the instance of staying after school is, like all analogies, imperfect. In purgatory, a soul can no longer make satisfaction for the sins it committed on earth, since its period of probation ended at death. We boys who had to stay in after school could still do works for ourselves-with the permission of the principal-to shorten our time of punishment. That is where the analogy is imperfect. Benny could not do the work authorized by Mr. Williams, so in that respect he was really the only one of the group like the souls in purgatory.”

“Are you going to say that people on earth can ga in indulgences for the souls in purgatory just as I gained Benny a plenary indulgence?” asked Bill.

“Just that!” exclaimed Father Charlie, admiringly. “You’re a lot smarter than you used to be in school.”

“Goodness knows you are too,” retorted Bill, quickly, “or you couldn’t possibly have explained the thing so that I could understand it.”

“Check!” laughed Father Charlie. “Now that the usual insults have been exchanged, we can go on with our con- versation.”

THE CONDITIONS

“What I”d like to know,” Bill said, after a pause, “is how indulgences are gained anyhow. Just what are the conditions?”

“The conditions vary,” replied Father Charlie. “Indulgences have been attached to many prayers and good works. But it is always required that a soul be in the state of grace-that is, all mortal sins forgiven-before an indulgence applies. Frequently a condition is to go to confession and Holy Communion within a certain period. And sometimes certain prayers must be offered for the intention of theHoly Father.”

Bill thought for a few minutes and then spoke with some embarrassment. “There’s one thing, Charlie, that I”d like to ask-and I apologize in advance for asking it. Among those who know nothing of the Church there’s so much talk about the sale of indulgences. I”d like that cleared up as we go along. You know how many people believe that priests charge a definite sum to get a soul out of purgatory. I don’t believe it. But you don’t think I”m impertinent to bring it up, do you?”

Father Charlie grinned. “I”ve been asked that question so much more impertinently that I”m not even a little offended at your question. To answer you directly: No money is ever charged for an indulgence of any sort. All Catholics know that even the attempt to do so would be a grave sin and that an indulgence purportedly sold would be valueless. Usually indulgences are gained by the devout recitation of certain prayers with the intention to gain the indulgence. Sometimes the performance of some other pious work is part of the conditions. In that connection, the Church has at times permitted the giving of alms for some worthy purpose as one of the conditions for the gaining of an indulgence. But when she has permitted this, she has always made it possible for poor people to substitute other good works for the almsgiving. No money is ever required to gain an indulgence.

.SALE OF INDULGENCES?

“As for the old story that priests promise to free a soul from purgatory upon any conditions whatsoever, there is absolutely nothing to it. . . . No person on earth-not a priest any more than a lay person-knows whether or not a particular soul is in purgatory. The Church teaches that there is a purgatory and that those who die with unforgiven venial sins or without having satisfied for their mortal sins on earth go there until the effects of their sins are purged away. The Church teaches, as I have indicated, that souls in purgatory can be aided by the prayers and good works of those who are still on earth, since the souls in purgatory are, with us, a part of the Mystical Body, of which St. Paul speaks, and can therefore benefit by the good works of other members of that Body. Hence it is a charitable thing to remember the souls in purgatory in our prayers and good works and to gain for them whenever possible indulgences that are applicable to them. But it is left to God to distribute the effects of our suffrages as He wills. And only He knows how they are applied.”

“I believe you.” Bill spoke simply. “There is only one more thing I want to know now: W hat about the card my patient had which said, “300 Days Indulgence”? What does that mean?”

“That’s a reasonable question,” replied Father Charlie. “The term “300 Days Indulgence” does not mean that three- hundred days are taken off the time that a soul must remain in purgatory, since days are units of earthly time.

ORIGIN

“The custom of using the term days to evaluate partial indulgences arose from a practice that was prevalent in the early Church. In those times it was common to give much more severe penances than are given now. Sometimes a penitent would have to say certain prayers publicly or do some other public penance for quite a long period of time. So now when the Church publishes an indulgence of three-hundred days for the recitation of a prayer such as was on the card that your scandalized patient had, the Church means that the recitation of this prayer under the usual conditions makes as much satisfaction for sin as would a penance of threehundred days” duration in the early days. The Church does not claim that this method of measuring indulgences is precise; it only offers a convenient way by which to indicate the comparative value of various indulgences.”

“And by the term “usual conditions” you include being in a state of grace, is that it?” asked Bill. “Absolutely,” said Father Charlie, emphatically. “One of the chief values attached to the gaining of indulgences-aside from the primary value of making satisfaction for the results of our sins-is that the attempting to gain them causes us to gomore often to confession and Holy Communion and thus makes us better Christians while we are still on earth.”

“Well,” said Bill, rising to take his leave, “there’s one thing certain: somebody’s going to have to gain a lot of indulgences for that cook of yours after she dies or she’ll have a long time in purgatory.”

“How’s that?” questioned Father Charlie.

“Tempting folks like me to make pigs of themselves,” said Bill, opening his mouth to cram down the last crumbs of the sandwiches.

Father Charlie laughed.”You may be right, Bill. But 1 should like to call your attention to the fact that if you took the proper steps you might be able to gain some indulgences for her and thus repay her for some of the pleasure her cooking has given you. That’s the Catholic system, you know-sacrifice for one another.”

Bill’s face kept its grin, but his answer was thoughtful. “Stranger things have happened,” he said, making his usual abrupt departure.

“Stranger things indeed,” murmured Father Charlie to himself as he watched Bill’s car disappear up the street.

Nihil Obstat:

Joseph P. Newth, C. C.

Censor Theol. Deput.

Imprimi Potest:

@ Joannes Carolus,

Archiep. Dublinen., Hiberniae Primas. 4 Sept. 1957

********

Are They All Wrong?

BY REV. ALBERT POWER, S.J

INDEX

CHRISTIANITY is an historical religion -it centers around an historical Person-it appeals for credentials to historical documents; and, therefore, all the arguments in its favour must, to some extent at least, be drawn from history. Still a distinction can be made between the argument for Catholicism which deals with the nature of her internal life and organization-her doctrines, Sacraments, and legislative system; and the argument which tells the story of her external life-of the men whom she has found to champion her cause, of the battles she has fought, the foes she has met, the wounds she has received, the victories she has won; and from this story of her march down the ages draws conclusions as to the validity and reasonableness of her claims.

Both arguments appeal to history, but the former may involve much metaphysical and theological speculation, whereas the latter is purely historical. It is with this latter we are dealing in this booklet.

And it is my purpose briefly to indicate some lines of argument in favour of Catholicism which may be drawn from a consideration of the number and nature of those who, all down the centuries, have been her staunch supporters; the character of her enemies; the opposing systems and organization she has met and conquered; from the steadfastness with which, in the midst of every conflict, she has clung to the teaching of her Founder; and the wonderful life and vigour, unity and strength which are still her characteristics after nineteen centuries of strenuous existence.

RATIONALISTS

There is in the world a certain body of men who call themselves Rationalists. They profess to take their stand on reason alone, to look to reason as the final Court of Arbitration, and refuse to allow any principle of authority or religion to interfere with its findings. That is what they profess. But they begin by excluding a priori the possibility of miracles, of a Divine Revelation, of supernatural religion, even though evidence for these things be available which appeals to reasonable men. That there must be such evidence seems clear from the fact that millions of reasonable, well educated, scientific, up to date people have accepted, and do accept, miracles and Revelation as actual facts, and regulate their lives on the supposition that they are facts.

Now, in contradistinction to such pseudo rationalists, I assert that history proves that Catholics are in the true sense of the term Rationalists-that is men guided by Reason; and that the Catholic system is the only one founded on sound Reason-is the only system that fearlessly and frankly weighs all the available evidence and forms its judgement according to that evidence.

PART I

No organization in history has had such a splendid line of defenders as the Catholic Church-from Paul of Tarsus, the first great Catholic Apologist, to the fine array of modern preachers, lecturers and writers, of every nation on earth, who are so busy in proclaiming their reasoned conviction that Catholicism is a true religious system.

When the test of Reason was applied to the pagan myths of Greece and Rome, belief in those myths crumbled away and disappeared for ever from the face of the earth, because such belief was founded on ignorance and superstition.

The same process we see going on around us today in the case of the various fancy sects that are for ever springing into being-flourishing a brief space, then disappearing forever. Have you ever heard, for example, of the “Deep Breathers”? They insist, I believe, not merely on the hygienic and lung-strengthening properties of deep breathing (in this we would not quarrel with them), but on the mystic and spiritual effects produced by taking a deep breath, holding it as long as possible, and pronouncing while so doing certain formulae.

Common sense-that is, plain reason-finally kills these fancy religions.

Not so with Catholicism. True reasoning serves simply to strengthen belief in the Catholic position. And for historical proof of this let us, in the first place, glance back over the century or so that has elapsed since the Catholic Emancipation Act of 1829, and turn our attention to one small portion of the Catholic Church-namely, England.

By 1829, the Catholics in England, harried and persecuted for over two centuries, had reached a very low ebb in point of numbers and organization. But their courage was beginning to revive, they were coming more into the open and making their influence felt. And, behold! where, of all places in the world, did this influence of the old Faith produced the most noticeable results? Why, in the very home and sanctuary of Reason, the centre of learning and culture in England- namely, the University of Oxford. Almost immediately after the Emancipation Act of 1829, the famous Oxford Movement began. A few years later John Henry Newman, Fellow of Oriel College, published the famous Tract for the Times, No. 90-which one may regard as his first public step on the march to Rome.

Thirty years later, in 1864, Newman wrote his “Apologia,” the history of his religious opinions. The book was electric in its effect. It was a masterpiece of literature produced by the greatest living exponent of English prose-but it was also a work of close and intense reasoning, telling the world why John Henry Newman, at the age of forty-five had quitted the Anglican Establishment and embraced the Catholic Faith. It is a splendid exposition by a master mind of the reasonableness of Catholicism.

NEWMAN’S “APOLOGIA”

The “Apologia,” as all know, had an extraordinary influence in bringing people into the Catholic Church. Since 1845 the tide of converts to Catholicism, especially from the educated classes in England and America, has gone on increasing year by year. Many, perhaps most, of these conversions were the result of historical study; and as each submitted to the Church and made Catholicism the guide of his life, he became a new and living proof of the proposition that Catholicism is founded on reason.

For surely, when hundreds of thousands of people of every walk of life, of every rank of society, of all shades of religious upbringing and surroundings; educated people, many of them recognized as foremost authorities in historical, philosophic or scientific research, after long and careful investigation, in the bright noonday of modern culture and development when these people in ceaseless streams embrace the Catholic Faith, and when practically all these people not only persevere in their adhesion to the Faith, but deliberately state, after ten or twenty or thirty years of Catholic life, that they have never had a doubt or a moment of real intellectual discomfort in the profession of their Faith: and when they, furthermore, assert (as many have done) that the Catholic religion seemed to bring them an extraordinary sense of intellectual liberty, expansion of soul, light and strength, then, I say, the religious system that has such testimony in its favour must have strong, convincing arguments to justify its existence and to demonstrate its superiority over every other religious system in the world.

THE FIRST CATHOLIC EVIDENCE LECTURES

So it is when we look back a hundred years and consider one small corner of the Catholic Church. Now let us look back not merely over a hundred or two hundred or five hundred years, but over nearly two thousand years of history-and what do we find? Generation after generation, century after century, tell the same story. Earnest, thinking, reasoning, learned people, men who did not want to be fooled and had no inclination to swallow idle tales, religious people whose one object was to make a right use of life, examined the claims of Catholicism, studied the arguments in its favour long and earnestly, and then gave their adhesion to it with wholehearted, unhesitating confidence. And the point I want to insist upon is that these people constantly appeal to Reason as the foundation of their faith and the grounds of their acceptance of Catholicism.

Go back right to the beginning. Think, for example, of the Apologists of the second century, say Justin the Martyr. We have two apologies, or, to use modern phraseology, two: “Catholic Evidence” lectures, presented by him to the Roman Emperor or the Senate about the year 150 of our era. Read those treatizes and you will find that Justin is constantly appealing to Reason in defence of the Christian Faith. He is, in fact one of the first who deliberately set himself to study the relations between Faith and Reason; that is, to defend our Faith by showing how it is based on Reason. Considering the pioneer work he did in this respect, I think St. Justin has strong claims to be regarded as the special patron of Catholic Evidence lectures, for he started the series of Public Evidence lectures of which our modern lectures are a continuation.

In his case these efforts to demonstrate Catholic Truth led to his violent death. He was martyred in Rome about 167 A.D. Whether similar results are likely to follow our efforts, time alone will tell.

ORIGEN

A few years later than Justin we meet with two remarkable men in the great commercial city of Alexandria, both deep students, men of wide reading and extraordinary intellectual activity, Clement and his great pupil, Origen. Origen is one of the most remarkable men the world has ever known. He was the founder of Biblical Textual Criticism. He took extraordinary pains to get at the original Hebrew and Greek texts of the Bible, collecting and comparing manuscripts with the greatest diligence. He was a man of vast intellectual power and was deeply versed in all the philosophic and religious learning of the day, and he had at his disposal the great Alexandrian Library-the greatest collection of books in antiquity.

Both Clement and Origen carried on the work of Justin the Apologist-that is, they, too, set themselves to justify the faith of Catholics by appealing to reason and showing that the beliefs of the Catholic Church are founded on reason. Origen died A.D. 254. Exactly 100 years later was born the man who is regarded by many as the keenest and brightest intellect the Christian Church has ever known, St. Augustine, Bishop of Hippo. After wandering for years in the mazes of religious error, Augustine was at last caught by the beauty of Catholic Truth, embraced the Catholic Faith, and devoted some forty-five years of strenuous activity (till his death in 430) to the defence of that Faith. The numerous works he wrote in its defence have been a shining light in the Christian world ever since.

Now, when Augustine embraced the Catholic Faith he did not do so out of mere blind enthusiasm. In his youth he wandered far from the Church, in spite of the instructions of his saintly mother, Monica, plunged into the alluring speculations of Manichaeism, a form of that Persian dualism which in one shape or other has fascinated human minds from the days of Zoroaster down to our own. Augustine remained for years an adherent of this system; but gradually, step by step-aided by God’s grace-disentangled himself from its errors as well as from the meshes of sensual indulgence into which he had been trapped, and won his way to the full light of Catholic Truth.

We have the story of that great struggle and splendid victory told in words of incomparable beauty in his “Confessions,” one of the world’s greatest books.

THE WEAPON OF REASON

What was the weapon by which this great man was forced to accept the truth of Catholicism? It was the weapon of Reason. God’s grace was, of course, there, helping, illuminating and guiding him, but Augustine, in the true and noble sense of the term, was one of the world’s great Rationalists; and, as a result of his reasoning, he embraced wholeheartedly the doctrine of Catholicism, as the only trustworthy religious system in the world. And here, perhaps, we may draw a comparison. Augustine may be called in a true sense the Newman of his age. The moral complexion of the early life of these two men was indeed very different. Newman’s youth was innocent; Augustine’s, unfortunately, was given over to sensual indulgence. But intellectually there is a remarkable parallel. Each had lived for years in heresy, and each came ultimately under the spell of the Catholic Church, was won by her beauty, and after a hard struggle surrendered entirely to her claims. Then each spent forty-five years employing in her defence glorious gifts of eloquence in speech and writing. Both were men intense in their devotion to Truth as Reason showed it to them. And because they followed that light, therefore, they embraced the Catholic Faith.

Moreover, each of these two great thinkers stood at a turning point in history. In Augustine’s day the Roman Empire was being shaken to its foundation by the invasions of barbarian hordes that were swooping down on the old decaying civilization, were destined, finally, to wreck it, and from the wreckage the nations of modern Europe were to develop. Newman also lived in the heart of a great Empire that, like the Roman, had set her giant footsteps on land and sea all round the busy world-and he, too, was living at a turning point of history, when new intellectual forces were rushing in to plunder the decaying intellectual civilization that had no strength to resist the onslaught.

A TURNING POINT IN HISTORY

For Protestantism, at the beginning of the nineteenth century, was played out as a religious force. The Reformation had done its deadly work only too well. The old Catholic Faith had been swept away. The Catholic Church in England that had been one of the glories of Christendom-as its splendid monuments still testify-had dwindled to a handful of people cowering out of sight and practicing their religion by stealth. The Anglican Establishment, which had usurped the place of Catholicism, was so far as real inward religion was concerned, crumbling to pieces. The storm of so-called Rationalism was raging and rising in intensity. We know how that movement developed. John Stuart Mill, Herbert Spencer, Darwin, Huxley, Tyndall, and a host of others, in the name of science, swooped down upon the defenseless people of England- defenseless because they had been robbed of the protective armour of Catholic Faith-as the Vandals swooped on the Roman Empire. And the result was inevitable. Protestantism had not the strength to resist, with the result that today England is once more, to a large extent, a pagan country.

Augustine and Newman -two great men of reason-and both intense defenders of Catholicism, were separated by fifteen hundred years of busy life. Midway between them comes a man in some respects greater than either, Thomas Aquinas, the great Dominican theologian, whose intellectual activity and ceaseless toil in defence of Catholicism filled up a large portion of the thirteenth century.

AQUINAS AND ARISTOTLE

Now, it is worth noticing that Thomas Aquinas also stands in contact with another master mind that had pondered on the problems of life just 1500 years earlier; probably the greatest mind that pagan Greece produced, and one of the world’s greatest thinkers and investigators-Aristotle of Stagira. This great man, the teacher and friend of Alexander the Great had, like Sir Francis Bacon, taken all knowledge for his province, and his subtle and restless intellect sought to probe all the secrets of the mystery-laden universe around him.

Aristotle’s teaching reached St. Thomas in a mutilated and imperfect form, but the kindred soul recognised at once the pure gold of genuine thought; and so Thomas set himself to master all the secrets of Aristotle-sifted out all that was best in him, and incorporated it into the Catholic system. And the glorious synthesis he produced is enshrined for us in his immortal works, especially in the incomparable “Summa.”

Aristotle had no supernatural revelation to guide him, though some think he may have studied the sacred books of the Jews. He is the supreme example of pure reason working faithfully to reach the goal of truth. He is, therefore, in the true sense of the word, a Rationalist-and behold! his system is of all pagan philosophical systems the one that fits in best and most easily with Catholicism. Aristotle’s system has been to a large extent absorbed by the Catholic Church, and through the Church the terms used or invented by Aristotle have become current coin of our daily speech.

Now, why is it that Thomas Aquinas, whose great brain grasped the Catholic system in all its bearings as few other brains have ever grasped it, found in Aristotle so much that was in tune with Catholic doctrine? Why did St. Thomas find that Catholic Mysteries, such as the Trinity, the Incarnation, the Eucharist could be most easily set forth in terms of Aristotelian philosophy? Simply because the Catholic system is based on reason, appeals to reason, and the more faithful one is in following the pure light of reason, the more certain is he to arrive at, and find complete satisfaction in the allembracing divine philosophy of the Catholic Faith.

THE CHURCH’S LINE OF DEFENDERS

I have cited a few of the Church’s great line of defenders. One might expatiate endlessly on the innumerable other great intellects whose work in defence of Catholicism as a reasonable religion has been so splendid.

They are a mighty band, and their testimony constitutes historical evidence of the first order in favour of Catholicism. That is, they are capable witnesses, who have examined the question from every point of view, have weighed every objection, pondered every difficulty that the wit of man has ever brought against the Christian position. And their deliberate and reasoned verdict has been unhesitating acceptance of Catholicism as the only true solution of life’s problems.

MACAULAY

Lord Macaulay, in his famous Essay on Von Ranke’s History of the Popes, discusses this argument. He feels the force of it. He admits that when a man like St. Thomas More, Chancellor under Henry VIII., “one of the choice specimens of human wisdom and virtue,” lived and died a fervent Catholic, and accepted all the Church’s doctrines, including the doctrine of the Real Presence-it is a staggering fact, not easily accounted for. And what is Macaulay’s explanation? For, of course, being a “Rationalistic” historian, he must find an explanation. Simply this: he calls it “superstition,” and adds that for the vagaries of superstition there is no accounting!

Think of the sublime impudence of it! Thomas Babington Macaulay, essayist and historian, sits in judgement on the saints and doctors of nineteen centuries of Christian thought-on Augustine and Jerome Aquinas and Duns Scotus, Anslem and More, and all the vast host of Catholic witnesses, and solemnly declares ex cathedra-and with evident consciousness that this is an infallible pronouncement-that all those thousands of men who spent their lives in scrutinizing Catholic doctrine, in conforming their lives to it in practice, were the victims of crass superstition, had been somehow or other deluded into accepting as the revealed Truth of God doctrines which, in reality, are mere fantastic absurdities!

Surely such an explanation is itself the greatest possible absurdity? Yet that is still today the attitude of modern “Rationalists” towards Catholicism. These men who deny all miracles are asking us to accept an explanation which itself would be a miracle of the most inconceivable kind. They ask us to believe that the whole of Christian civilization (which is the product of the Catholic Church) and all the beneficial results brought about by the teaching of Catholic doctrine- the abolition of slavery, the establishing of the sanctity of marriage and the dignity of woman, the purifying of morals, the sweeping away of the nameless vices and abominations of paganism-in fact all that goes to make up the glory of our civilized life, all that is founded on a lie, is the outcome of nothing better than degrading superstition!

PART II

We have thus far considered briefly the number and character of the people who have been defenders of Catholicism. Let us now dwell for a few moments on another fact which stands out clearly in the history of our religion viz., the steadfastness with which it has clung to its principles and maintained unchanged its spiritual identity through nineteen centuries of incessant battling with hostile forces-opposing systems and organizations of the most formidable kind.

Experience shows that the tendency of human institutions is to change and finally decay. In the department of religious organizations perhaps, no period of the world’s history has seen such enormous and far reaching doctrinal changes in Christian sects outside the Catholic Church as the past fifty or sixty years.

Christian bodies that have hitherto clung to fundamental Christian ideas and principles, such as the Divinity of Christ, the inspiration of the Bible, the Virgin Birth, the Resurrection, have within the past half century become riddled with Modernism-that is, have relaxed their hold on some or all of these inherited Christian ideas.

A NEW EDITION OF THE BIBLE

The party in the Church of England that one would have expected to be most tenacious of age-long Christian doctrines is the Anglo-Catholic or High Church party. Yet, in 1929 there was published in England by members of this branch of the Anglican Establishment a new Commentary of the whole Bible, comprising introductions to the various books and notes on the text. It is a work of vast research and scholarship; no less than fifty-three writers take part in it. Its general editor was the late Dr. Charles Gore, formerly Bishop of Oxford. It no longer regards the Bible as an inspired book. Of the introductory essay by Dr. Gore a competent critic writes: “Its purpose is to remove from the path of exegesis all such inspiration as connotes either Divine authority or inerrancy in the Scriptures of both Testaments alike.”

Four centuries ago the spiritual ancestors of these Anglicans cried out emphatically that the Bible is the only source and fountain-head of revelation in the world, and fiercely denounced the Church of Rome for holding that Christ left not merely a Book, but also a living, teaching Authority to interpret the Book, and that this was the only safe way of transmitting without error the deposit of Divine Faith from generation to generation for all time.

If it is so with High Church Anglicanism, it is, of course, far worse in the Non-conformist sections-they have practically thrown overboard all the great Christian doctrines. Yet, these sects have been in existence only a few centuries. Where will they he in another hundred years?

Now, the remarkable thing about Catholicism is that it does not change thus. For some unexplained reason-that is, unexplained by those who deny her divine origin and authority-she clings steadfastly to her doctrines and principles, no matter what pressure is brought to bear from without or from within, and in spite of the tendency to change and decay which is ingrained in every human institution.

WHEN CATHOLICISM WAS BORN

The Catholic Church came into existence in the midst of one of the greatest material civilizations history has known. In the Graeco-Roman world around the Mediterranean, Athens supplied the culture, Rome the material comfort and strong government that made personal development and enjoyment of life possible.

Yet the new religion did not hide itself away in a corner; it invaded at once all the great cities; and it did so just because it claimed the allegiance of the Intellect of mankind-it appealed to Reason as being a complete and satisfying solution of all the problems of life.

It met, of course, with the opposition of sceptical minds-it had to face ridicule-it found its way barred by all the obstacles which strong, living, human passions always raise against those who aim at the higher good. Yet the new Faith swept like a flame from city to city; from Jerusalem to Caearea, Damascus, Antioch, through Galatia and Phrygia, to Roman Asia, through Philippi, Amphipolis, Thessalonica, to Athens and Corinth. Earlier still, the Faith had been preached in Rome-the great capital city. The leaven of Christ’s teaching had been flung into that huge cauldron where all the cults and all the vices of paganism were seething; and the leaven was already doing its transforming work.

RULERS OF DESTINY

Picture to yourself some haughty senator, in the days of Nero, pacing leisurely in his luxurious gardens on the Aventine Hill, and gazing across the Tiber at the huddled dwelling-places of the poor Jewish folk, situated in what is now called the Trastevere region. If anyone had told that senator that the future of civilization and of the world lay in the hands of a few beggarly foreigners, dwelling in the miserable tenements of that sordid Ghetto, what would he say? Yet so it was. Peter, the Jew, from Galilee, with a handful of fellow Catholics, had lately come to Rome and was delivering the message, laying down the principles, preaching the doctrines, propagating the Faith, which Catholics still hold; and which we hold just because, through the loyal fidelity of the Catholic Church in discharging her mission, the teaching of these Apostles of Christ has been handed down to us safe and sound across the gulf of ages.

Then, after a while the great pagan city became aware of the new force in its midst-it saw the danger and swooped down to destroy it. It seemed an easy task for the strength of mighty Rome. She had conquered the whole world; had crushed the empire of Alexander and annexed its fairest provinces; had stretched a strong arm across the sea and seized Jugurtha, the wily and dangerous Numidian King and shut him up safely in the Mamertine dungeon on the Capitol, and there let him starve to death. Surely it would be easy to destroy this new and insignificant Syrian sect. They would seize the chiefs of it-one, especially, whom his fellow Christians greatly honoured, a Jew named Peter, from Galilee-throw him, also, into, the Mamertine prison, where Jugurtha had perished; then, after a while, bring him forth-and, as an example to the world of the folly of resisting Caesar, crucify him on the Vatican Hill. Mark the place! the Vatican Hill. There Peter died for his Master. And just because of that far-off tragic event, the Vatican Hill is, today, the centre of the world’s spiritual life. A few authoritative words spoken from the Vatican Hill, by a man who has inherited the Faith and Authority of Peter, find a ready acceptance and willing obedience in every corner of the globe wherever Catholics are to be found. The pagan Empire that crucified Peter and strove to crush the doctrine he was preaching has vanished from the face of the earth, leaving hardly a trace behind. But the spiritual empire founded on Peter holds sway over wider realms than Imperial Rome ever dreamt of, and that empire is every day growing wider and stronger, and more firmly rooted in men’s souls.

NEW FOES

When the Catholic Church had gradually ousted the pagan gods, then other foes and other forces rose up to do battle against her. Within her own borders the fires of Arianism burst forth to test from within the strength of her doctrinal system, and blazed fiercely for many a long day.

Then, after a century or two, the storm of Mohammedanism burst upon her, and for a thousand years she was in almost incessant conflict with this strange Oriental cult, that sprang up as if by magic from the sands of Arabia and swept irresistibly across the world, almost engulfing Europe and turning it into a province of Islam. But, again, Catholicism and its principles prevailed, though it was not until after the victory at Lepanto, in 1571, and the rout of the Turks by Sobieski, in 1686, that the Christian world felt secure from the Mohammedan menace.

Then the thunder-clouds of the Protestant Reformation filled the sky and broke with terrible violence over Catholic Europe. The Church was shaken to her very foundations, she seemed to be losing her hold on men’s minds; yet she emerged triumphant from the struggle. Some fair provinces of her spiritual realm were torn from her, but she herself was marvelously purified and strengthened in the conflict.

AFTER THE STORM

And now it is four hundred years later. The Reformation tornado has passed; the forces evoked by Luther have spent their force, and Catholicism must gird itself to meet new enemies that are arming for the fray.

But the point I would direct attention to is how marvelously strong and vigorous and full of life this Catholic Church is after her stormy voyage across those momentous nineteen centuries! One would say that to her a century is as a year of life, and that only now is she approaching the hey-day of youth!

To illustrate this, think of the two doctrines that are most characteristic of Catholicism and that have been exposed to the fiercest attacks of her enemies-namely, the authority of the Pope and the Real Presence of Christ in the Eucharist; and see whether these doctrines play a less intense part in the life of the Church in the twentieth century than they did in past ages.

I think I am safe in saying that at no period of the Church’s history have these two factors of Catholicism-the Papacy and the Eucharist-been so strongly emphasized, so honourably recognized, so passionately clung to and defended as they are today.

A vivid and palpable proof of the part which faith in the Eucharist plays in Catholic life is furnished by the great International Eucharistic Congresses of the past forty years, held in capital cities all over the civilized world. The success of these Congresses surpassed the wildest dreams of those who suggested them. Never in the long history of the Church have there been-at least outside of Rome-such magnificent public demonstration of Catholic belief in the Real Presence of Christ. That same intense belief is also responsible for the extraordinary increase in daily Communion sinc e the great Eucharistic decree of Pope Pius X. made frequent reception easy for all the faithful.

Then, too, the events of the past fifty years, especially the happenings during the Great War and the world wide recognition of the splendid work and influence of Pope Benedict XV., and of our present Holy Father, Pius XI.; furthermore, recent events connected with the restoration of the temporal power and the recognition of the fact that the Pope, as head of a vast spiritual organization, including in its ranks men of every nation under heaven, must himself be quite independent, owing allegiance to no temporal sovereign, in order that he may be an impartial ruler of all-these events emphasize the unique position accorded to the Pope even by non-Catholics the world over. When we add to this the deep and special reverence and submission shown to him by the three hundred millions of his own subjects, one may well ask: On what foundation does this extraordinary dignity of the Pope rest-this majesty and authority recognized in one man alone of the whole human race? The answer is: On the Catholic doctrine of the Pope’s right to teach and rule as the successor of St. Peter. It is Catholicism that gives him his strength, and the honour paid by the whole world to the Papacy is a tribute to the unshakeable strength of the Catholic system, of which the Pope is the living embodiment.

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Are You A Good Parent?

BY WINFRID HERBST, S. D .S

INDEX

Some years ago, a young man lay dying in a hospital—dying of a loathsome disease. In a chair by the bed of agony sat his helpless mother, a fallen-away Catholic who had not received the sacraments for years.

Suddenly the dying youth raised his head and cried in terror, “Ma, pray with me!”

She knew no prayers; she had forgotten them long since.

Again he whispered hoarsely, “Ma, pray with me!” and dropped back on his pillow. He was dead. The next day the mother knelt before the altar.

“O God,” she cried in anguish, “I have come back. When I could not pray with my dying boy, I felt the enormity of my crime.”

PARENTAL DELINQUENCY

What was the crime of which this mother spoke?

Was it an act which by its viciousness and malice made it notorious?

Was it a crime of passion, committed in a moment in an intense blaze of emotion? Or was there an element of premeditation there?

The crime was none of these things. Instead, it was an offence -almost imperceptible-that began when the boy was an infant, continued through his adolescence, and culminated in a pathetic and bitter death.

It was a crime of parental delinquency, bad example, arid faith, and negligence.

Put briefly it was the crime of a mother failing to live up to her responsibility.

Not for a moment do we imply that the mother was answerable for every sin of her son, or for every evil deed that he committed . Certainly it is true that, as a separate human being, the son always had direct access to the streams of divine grace. His salvation was largely in his own hands and in God’s.

But yet, like all children, this boy had turned first to his mother for guidance, had reached initially for her helping hand, and had looked innocently to her for an example.

And she had failed him.

ENORMOUS INFLUENCE

The responsibility of a parent is enormous. A mother or a father exerts an influence on the young beyond any exact calculation.

We are all familiar with the imitative habits of children. Boys and girls like to “play house,” to pretend that they are mommy and daddy, and to parrot the conversations that they hear from adults.

But the parental influence penetrates much deeper than just these superficial manifestations.

The rules of conduct which prevail in the home, and the moral atmosphere that envelops the family, are just as much a part of the child’s inheritance as the colour of his eyes or the shape of his nose.

Instead of merely dressing up like mommy, or wearing daddy’s hat, the child often grows up with the same moral out- look as the parents.

Parents imagine that these influences are only temporary and that they do not really count for much.

““We’ve got wonderful Catholic schools,”“ they say. “When my Johnny or Mary starts into kindergarten, the nuns will give him the proper training.”

It is true, of course, that our Catholic schools are our boast and pride. The Church recognizes the importance of the proper education by insisting that Catholic children attend their own schools where possible.

But however valuable and essential our Catholic formal education is, we must never forget that home training is more important.

Our great Pope Leo XIII assured us of this fact when he wrote: “All should be most intimately persuaded that the minds of children are most influenced by the training which they receive at home.”

THE TEACHERS TESTIFY

Teachers in our Catholic schools constantly verify this judgment by their own experiences.

Some time ago a learned sister, a teacher of mature background in the parochial school, said to me, “Ah, yes, Father, we are doing our best to train them to live for God and to become useful members of society, but what they see and hear at home and on the streets more than outweighs our influence here!”

And her look of pain showed that her heart was almost breaking.

Small wonder that the nun was upset! Lack of co-operation at home is the religious teacher’s greatest obstacle. Our wonderful Catholic teachers make every attempt to teach our children-by their example, by their instructions, by the daily prayers and religious exercises, by the Catholic atmosphere of the schoolroom with its holy pictures and sacred ornaments. In all these ways our teachers urge the children to pray, to go to Mass, to be kind and charitable, to utter no indecent or offensive word.

And when the closing hour comes, the children go home again. They notice no one pray; they notice that the older members of the family do not care much about Holy Mass; they witness quarrels, uncharitable remarks, unkindness, unrestrained criticism. They hear curses, bitter invective, even—God forgive the speakers then!-suggestive, impure talk and shameful stories.

Compared with the hallowed schoolroom they left, this home atmosphere is tainted. And children do not reason. Instead, they imitate. Someone truly said, “Children are imitative or nothing.”

It is heartbreaking to visit certain hospitals for children in our large cities and to look upon the little ones there, physically crippled, maimed, deformed. Only one sight is more pitiable-that of children morally crippled, maimed and diseased in soul by the bad example of those who should have been a shining light to them.

THE HOME

Would to God that the Catholic home were always what it ought to be!

What ought it to be? Next to His own dwelling-place, Christ the Lord would have it be the holiest place on earth, just like His blessed home at Nazareth.

Do we sometimes pause to reflect upon the supreme importance of the home?

In the living body of civilization, the home is the central and most vital organ. What home is, society will become, since the nation is simply a magnified version. Home is the guardian of youth, the consolation of manhood, the resting place of old age. And it should be the seeding place of virtue.

Unfortunately, the club and the public places of entertainment are today usurping the kingdom of the fireside. How few there are today who can still pour forth from theheart the immortal song, “Home, Sweet Home”!

HEAD OF THE FAMILY

The family may well be compared to a living body, of which the father is the head.

He is the king of the fireside and the master of property, of happiness, of life almost. When he does not guard the sacred, inmost flame of love, there is discord at the centre of the family, the whole household becomes hypocritical, and each lies to the other.

Where the father leads, all, will follow. When he gets down on his knees and prays to his God each day in the presence of the rest of the family, they see him and are strengthened.

But where the father does not lead, how quickly others in the family go astray.

Once a father and mother were called away for the night, and an aunt was asked to stay with the children, a boy and a girl. When bedtime came, the aunt got the little girl ready and asked, “Where do you usually pray, darling?”

“Sometimes at my bed and sometimes at mamma’s knees,” she answered sweetly. So that night she prayed at auntie’s knees.

Butthen the good lady got the boy ready and asked, “Now, dear, where do you usually pray?”

“I don’t pray!” said the boy.

“What!” exclaimed the aunt, unable to believe she had heard correctly. “Where do you pray?”

“Don’t pray!” he blurted again. “I”m like Pa.”

Comment is unnecessary. We need do no more than compare such an example with that shown in the following episode:

Some time ago a father was punishing his little boy for using ugly words and phrases he had picked up on the street. I heard that father say, “Did you ever hear your daddy say that?”

I wonder how many fathers can thus proudly flash the diamond ring of fair example?

HEART OF THE FAMILY

Of the home, of the family, the mother is the heart as the father is the head.

Throughout history, mothers have been praised for the depth of their love. Christ the Lord, when He would show us how unspeakably great His love is, says it is greater than the love of a mother for her child.

But the love of a mother is not static or fruitless. If it is a genuine love, it gushes forth in an unceasing stream of

Christian example.

Paradise is at the feet of mothers, and the future destiny of the child is greatly her work. The cradle is a sacred quarry in which souls are shaped for heaven bythe chisel that only a mother’s hand can wield.

A mother who would fail to bring up her little ones in the fear and love of God would be crueler far than one who would stab her innocent babe and watch its lifeblood stain the floor. And as the child matures, it would come to despise that mother’s sinfulness.

One day a chaplain visited a prisoner condemned to die for murder, and begged him to make his peace with God. “Think of what your mother would want you to do,” he urged gently.

“My mother!” cried the man with a fearful oath. “If she had taken care of me as she should have done, I would not be where I am today.”

But though fathers and mothers may properly be awed by the seriousness and complexity of their responsibilities, they can also take courage from the fact that there is no scarcity of example and inspiration. “The history of Christianity is packed with stories of men and women who have found saintliness in parenthood. We would like to point out two such persons.

A MODEL FOR FATHERS

Fathers will find a worthy model in Sir Thomas More, the English martyr who was canonized together with John

Cardinal Fisher by Pope Pius XI, May 12, 1935.

St. Thomas” own epitaph gives a concise and accurate description of him: “He was a man courteous, affable, innocent, gentle, merciful, just and uncorrupted.”

He was, indeed, a model of Christian manhood, who was born February 7, 1478, and who lived and died under the

ROYAL BLUEBEARD OF ENGLAND, HENRY VIII

St. Thomas did not subscribe at all to the notion that piety was dull or crabby. “A man may live for the next world and be merry withal,” he said. And his keen sense of humour, which sprang from his piety, was joined with perfect refinement.

At the age of twenty St. Thomas began seriously to consider his vocation. With the thoroughness which characterized his every action, he spent four years in a monastery with the Carthusians, to see whether perhaps the religious life were the life for him. He finally decided it was not his calling.

Having made up his mind to marry, he looked about for the lady of his choice. Now, John Colt of New Hall, Essex, had three outstanding daughters. But of the three, the second was the fairest, most favoured, and best talented. At first St.

Thomas thought he was in love with this one.

But when he thought it might grieve the eldest daughter if he simply ignored her, he began to pay her some attention too. Before long he had taken a fancy to her, and, as a biographer tells us, “soon after married her with all her friends” good liking.”

In his remarkable sense of honour and his extraordinary fidelity to conscience, St. Thomas was sustained by his spirit of prayer. That spirit he carried into the family he loved so well. He would go to church with the members of the family; he would pray regularly with them.

When alone, he would pray still more. He would scourge himself, keep midnight vigils, wear the rough hair shirt. Then, too, he was “busy about alms and hospitality, and the guesting of the best Poor Man and most gracious Guest that ever was guested in this world.”

Men who live thus, even though they cannot perform the extraordinary penances of the saints, are always ready to die.

That is why St. Thomas More, in 1517, when the terrible sweating sickness broke out, could calmly write: “Multitudes are dying all around us. I assure you there is less danger in the battlefield than in the city. . . . I am prepared for any event.” In 1529 Thomas More became Lord Chancellor of the Realm under Henry VIII. Then came the king’s hypocritical scruples as regards his lawful marriage with the good Queen Catherine. Henry wanted his Chancellor’s support in his deceit.

He did not get it.

St. Thomas stood up in defence of the sacred indissolubility of marriage and against divorce. His sense of honour and fidelity to conscience asserted themselves.

Here is what they cost him:

The first thing was his resignation from office in 1532. From riches and honour to poverty and rags he sank overnight—for the sake of justice and truth.

Later he was called upon to swear to accept the new marriage of the king. This, too, he refused; and accordingly he was committed to a dungeon in the tower on April 17, 1534.

His simple home joys were over forever.

Then his daughter Margaret, the apple of his eye, came pleading that he conform to the king’s wishes at least outwardly. Others were doing it. His wife pleaded, too, with all the vehemence, affection and piteousness of love. It was of no avail. Thomas More’s sense of honour and his fidelity to conscience were as adamant. When the Duke of Norfolk called upon him and pointed out that he must support the lustful king or die, the noble layman said: “In good faith, my Lord, between me and you there is but this difference, that I shall die today and you tomorrow!” How true!

And so he died, true to God from whom he had come, for whom he had lived, to whom he knew he would one day have to go. He was led out of prison on the morning of July 6, 1535, his face pale and lean, his eyes raised to heaven, carrying a red cross.

Agood woman offered him a little wine to strengthen him; he refused it. “Christ in His passion drank no wine,” he said, “but gall and vinegar.”

When he reached the scaffold he bandaged his own eyes. Then came the blow of an axe-and that pure soul sped to its

Maker.

The valiant St. Thomas More makes a fine model for our modern husbands and fathers, and what his life tells them in effect is this: “Be cheerful always; cheerfulness is the daughter of innocence and charity. Be kind and affable: kindness is the sweetest music in the world. Be gentlemen. A gentleman is a gentle man, one who never wilfully hurts another. Make your homes better, brighter, happier.

Whatever you fathers do, let it not be said of you that “Home is the place where you are treated the best and grumble the most.”

And to all your friends be what Thomas More was to him. “He seems born and framed for friendship,” it was said of him. “He is a faithful and enduring friend.”

A MODEL FOR MOTHERS

A model Catholic mother, a saintly woman not at all beyond imitation, is the mother of the Little Flower. Zelie Guerin was a Normandy girl, whose father bought a comfortable home in Alencon, France, in 1843. She thought for some time that she had a religious vocation, but after intimate conversations with the Superior of the Hotel-Dieu, she was told it was not the will of God that she should become a sister.

She then occupied herself making Alencon lace, having several other ladies help her in their homes.

Daily she prayed that God would find for her a husband who would not only be a good Catholic but a fervent Catholic. She asked from God the honour of having many children who would all in some way be consecrated to Him.

One day, passing over the bridge of St. Leonard, she first saw Louis Martin, a young jeweller- noble, dignified, distinguished. An interior voice seemed to say to her: “It is this young man that I have selected for you.”

They were soon after introduced. And they were married in the church of Notre Dame, Alencon, July 13, 1858.

“That in all things God might be better loved,” was the motto of this husband and wife. Each morning they assisted together at the 5.30 Mass; together they knelt at the altar rail oftener than once a week (daily Communion not then being practised in France). They said the family prayers in common. Each evening the lives of the saints were read in their home. Her husband spent one night each month before the Blessed Sacrament. She fostered his piety with gentle approbation.

Nine children were born to them. The two boys, the fruit of their prayers to St. Joseph, died before they were one year old. Mrs. Martin was very busy and ever happy in the fulfilment of all the duties of motherhood.

The trial of death came. Her father-in-law died. Then her two little boys died. Then her own father died. Two of her little daughters died. They died in the Lord.

Listen to what Zelie Martin could say in the midst of these tribulations:

“When I closed the eyes of my dear little children and prepared them for burial, I was indeed grief-stricken, but thanks to God’s grace I have always been resigned to His will. I do not regret the pains and the sacrifices which I underwent for them.

“People say to me, “It would have been much better if you had not given birth to those whom you lost so soon after their coming.” I cannot endure such sentiments. I do not find that pains and sacrifices can at all outweigh or compare with the eternal happiness of my little ones, eternal happiness which, of course, would never have been theirs had they never been born. Moreover, I have not lost them for always. Life is short. Soon I shall find my little ones in heaven.”

The world would never have been blessed with the Little Flower, her ninth child, had Mrs. Martin been inoculated with certain current views!

“My children, you have a little sister!” the father sang joyously on that January 2 in 1873.

The frail little girl was baptized two days later and given the name of Marie, to which was joined Therese. The little one was ailing, and they thought she would die; but the mother cast herself before a statue of St. Joseph, that patron of desperate cases, and the baby recovered.

There was much illness in the family, but Mrs. Martin was ever prayerful, patient and resigned.

Of the baby Therese, who was so attracted by the Mass at the age of two, the mother writes: “My little Therese becomes daily more and more sweet and gentle. She gurgles and hums from morning until evening. She sings us little songs but it is necessary to be accustomed to her to understand them . She says her prayers like a little angel. It is ideal!”

And on March 14, 1875, she wrote:

“Therese looks and is well. She carries on with us the most amusing conversations. She knows her prayers. Every Sunday she goes to Vespers and if by chance we cannot take her, she cries inconsolably. Some weeks ago, on a Sunday, it was raining. She started to cry, saying that she had not been to Mass. Unobserved for a moment, by us, she opened the door and in the pouring rain started down the street in the direction of the church. I ran after her and brought her back, and her sobs continued for a good hour. She says to me very much aloud in church, “Mamma, I have prayed well to the good God.” When she doesn’t see her father say his prayers in the evening, she asks, “Why, Papa, do you not say your prayers? Have you been to church?” Since Lent began, I go to the six o‘clock Mass, and she is often awake when I leave, and says to me, “Mamma, Iwill be very good.” And she doesn’t move until I return.”

And what did the Little Flower think of this sweet and attentive mother who constantly attended her? She writes in her autobiography, “I am sure that had I been brought up by careless parents, I should have become very wicked and perhaps have lost my soul.”

Mrs. Martin died August 28, 1877, at the age of 46. Who can doubt that she went straight to heaven?

PARENTS AND CATHOLIC LEAKAGE

Analysing the lives of the two people we have selected as models, we note that their common concern as parents was to provide an atmosphere of Christian love in the home, so that the children might know, love and serve their God and Father.

Both St. Thomas and Mrs. Martin recognized that their children would not be good unless their homes were good. And when we hear of Catholics giving up the faith, or lapsing into indifference about religion, we frequently wonder about the quality of the home life they experienced.

There is no question that one of the fundamental causes of leakage from the Catholic faith is the lack of proper home training.

The remedy for such loss of souls is simple.

Parents must introduce their children to the Catholic religion at home, have them read up and study their religion, and get them to live it at home and everywhere.

Parents, who are God’s representatives in the sanctuary of the home, must co -operate mightily with the priest. Indeed, theirs is even the more important part.

Home training is far more effective than the work of any school. From the citadel of the home Catholic parents must lead their children to heaven. As we read in the encyclical on the Christian Education of Youth: “That education, as a rule, will be more effective and lasting which is received in a well-ordered and well-disciplined Christian family; and more efficacious in proportion to the clear and constant example set, first by the parents, and then by the other members of the household.”

But perhaps you are skeptical and wondering if parents really are to blame for the many defections from the Faith.

Let us answer that with a series of questions:

If the parents are not to blame, why do they (to mention only a few examples) give the children too little work to do and too much idleness? Why allow them such untrammelled freedom in their comings and goings? Why that unrestricted use of the car to carry them over the road to ruin? Why that indifference to their choice of friends and where and how they spend their time? Why are those infractions of home laws so indulgently tolerated that the breaking of laws becomes a second nature?

Is this home education? In truth, the guardians of the characters of their children are blind, or asleep, or shamefully indifferent.

Billy and Mary must be educated mentally, dressed stylishly, but who thinks half that much of training them morally? Modern hygiene and health and cleanliness of body are constantly being stressed, but who ever dreams of looking after their moral cleanliness?

THE CHILD OBSERVES

Ordinarily, what the parents are, the children will be. They are the witnesses of the daily life of father and mother; they are keenly observant; and they are imitative to a high degree.

Do the parents show that they consider the soul more than the body? Do they live for God and heaven? Do they live good practical Catholic lives of prayer and piety?

Then their children will ordinarily do likewise.

Or do the parents go to Mass and to the sacraments only when they must, because driven by the precepts of the Church, and omit all else?

If so, they teach their children that the Catholic religion is a religion of law, whereas it is a religion of love. By their example they teach that religion is a cold, dry thing of rule and regulation and formalism, whereas it should be a strengthening, consoling influence that permeates every moment of earthly existence and gives to life its truest meaning.

It is the Mass that matters; it is made complete by Communion, the spiritual food without which our souls must perish of starvation; and daily prayer and the avoidance of sin are both the result and the preparation for the one and the other.

How can Catholic parents expect their children to pray, to read Catholic books and periodicals, to go to Mass even on weekdays when possible, to receive the sacraments frequently or even daily, when they themselves do not do so?

It is the solemn duty of parents to instil respect for authority into the plastic minds of their children. They must insist upon prompt, unquestioning obedience.

Children of our day would have their own way; they will start a row in the family if the parents do not accede to their wishes. Does that mean that Billy and Mary must be permitted to do as they please, to go out when they please, with whom they please, and to come home when they please? By no means!

When the children are young, the opportunity for training them is golden. They are like pliant saplings: they may be bent to grow in any direction. But let them grow to young manhood or womanhood in a spirit of disdain for authority—what power can bend the mighty oak?

But who is to blame for this defiance of authority when parents themselves criticize, oppose, condemn priest and Church and God Almighty Himself, when they take the part of their children against their teachers, when they themselves are disobedient children of Holy Mother Church?

Yet again, the primary purpose of the Catholic school is to teach the child the value of his immortal soul and the knowledge and love of God. What proof of abysmal ignorance, then, for parents to send their children to pagan educators-and our Australian schools have many of them-where they are taught there is no God, where the words “sin,” “immortality,” “future punishment,” and the like provoke a laugh of derision.

VOCATIONS—NEGATIVE DUTIES

Although the parents should exercise control over their children and establish a rigid discipline, we do not mean to imply that the parents should attempt to make every decision for the child, or to lead its life.

There is an immense difference between a reasonable supervision and a possessive domination.

In the matter of vocations, for example, we state unequivocally that the parents may not force any of their children to embrace a certain state of life.

Disregard of this command, which we may say is included in the Fourth Commandment of God, is a great injustice against God; for it pertains to God alone to determine what state of life any particular individual shall embrace, whether the married state, single life in the world, or single life in religion.

It is, accordingly, utterly wrong for parents to force their wishes upon their children by peremptorily demanding or insisting, for instance, “You must get married” or “You must become a priest” or “You must become a sister.”

God is first and by excellence the Father of all men; and with right may He indignantly address these presumptuous parents in the words of Holy Writ: “If then I be a Father, where is my honour?” (Mal. 1:6.) “God is the sole Father, whom we in spirit know,” says St. Gregory. And therefore He alone has the sovereign right to direct the understanding and sway the will of men.

Let parents ponder well the example of the Boy Christ in the temple at the age of twelve. Though it pained His parents deeply, He yet remained behind because God would have it so. As He said to them afterwards, “Did you not know that I must be about my Father’s business?” (Luke 2:49.)

What injustice could be greater than to choose for children a vocation against their will?

Both natural and divine law demand that he who is to take upon himself the burdens and obligations of a certain state of life and is to carry them all his life long should himself be the chooser, under God. We must never forget that it is a question of one’s eternal happiness, inasmuch as one will more surely and more easily save his soul and thus attain his last end if he be in that state of life to which he is called.

And for precisely that reason, just because eternal happiness comes into consideration here, parents have nothing whatsoever to say by way of command. This is a personal matter of each and every individual. The holy Fathers of the Church are very serious in their remarks when they speak of the freedom that each one should have in the choice of a state of life.

And yet, how often parents are the greatest, the almost insurmountable, obstacles in the way of their children’s following that vocation to which their inclinations and qualifications and desires, and even the interior voice of God, call them? Misplaced affection and utterly misguided parental love is only too often the cause of such injustice towards God and towards the children God has lent them for a little while.

VOCATIONS—POSITIVE DUTIES

But in addition to refraining from the conduct described above, parents likewise have positive duties toward their children relative to their vocation-duties as much neglected as the negative duties above mentioned are sinned against.

Parents know their children; they know their aptitudes and inclinations. They are the educators by excellence, knowing their offspring as no other teacher can possibly know them. By prudent instruction, helpful counsel, and wise guidance they can greatly assist them in the choice of a state of life; they can direct them in that choice; and they can powerfully support that choice once it has been made.

The Catholic home should be the seeding place of virtue. Family prayer should abound, and instruction, and good reading. In such a home the beauty of purity and virginity, and the exalted holiness of the priesthood and the religious life, and the sanctity of the married state will be known and understood. There will be none of that blind groping and hazardous guessing which so often paves the way to a life of misery and unhappiness.

But, unfortunately, many children just grow up physically! They are not really home-trained and educated at all; they are only guided by the passions of their lower nature in their choice of the holy state of matrimony, and know little or nothing of the higher life.

DUTY OF OPPOSITION

There are certain times when opposition to the proposed vocation of a child becomes a duty binding on the parent. Parents may and must oppose their children’s choice of a state of life which would be manifestly harmful. Such is certainly the case when that choice is in itself so dangerous that, humanly speaking, one cannot at all attain one’s last end, God and heaven, or can attain it only with great difficulty.

We think, for example, of a mixed marriage. And we think too of parents, and especially mothers, who connive at such marriages and evendo their best to bring them about, sometimes furtively aiding the son or daughter against the father’s express command. Apparently, such parents have no proper spiritual evaluation of such things.

Again, parents should dissuade their children from the choice of a certain state of life when it is quite clear that they have not the qualities and qualifications necessary for that state. But here great caution is to be used and advice should be sought from those who are really capable of giving it, particularly from those who have the care of souls, and more particularly, from their own pastor. And, in doubtful cases, the children are to be given the benefit of the doubt.

Many a vocation to the higher life has been nipped in the bud by a fathe r‘s or a mother’s hasty and injudicious decision- a decision that was based, not on the true facts of the case, but on misguided love or earthly ambition.

“You’d make a fine priest, you would!”

How crushing a remark such as this when it is even probably untrue and merely an unjust and sarcastic deterrent. And the same holds good for the sisterhood. Hence, we repeat, consultation is imperative here. Find out before you dissuade, and only then dissuade when dissuade you must.

And lastly, parents must unalterably oppose their children’s choice of a state of life when the latter have recourse to unjust, unlawful and sinful means in choosing and embracing that state.

THE DECREASE IN VOCATIONS

Related to this question of parental duties in the field of religious vocations is the recent decline in the number of women who have entered religious life.

Pope Pius XII, addressing 700 Mothers General called the decline “a very serious crisis

The reasons for the decrease in vocations for the sisterhood have been determined to be two: (1) the changed position of women in the world, particularly their greater success in getting jobs as compared with their brothers, and the spiritual satisfaction to be found in various types of social work; and (2) the increasing state of affluence in the modern home.

It may well be, too, that the greater freedom, the good times, and the pleasure-loving, amusement-seeking spirit of our age and country have something to do with the decrease.

But we do know from numerous letters received by us in the course of the years that a lack of appreciation of the religious vocation on the part of the parents keeps many a girl from the convent. Either the girls are absolutely not permitted to go to the convent or they are urged or forced to put off their going for years with the result that many eventually lose their vocation or reach an age when they are no longer acceptable. All sorts of inducements are often offered.

Parents should realize that, in all truth, it is an incomparable happiness, a font of perennial joy, a heaven-sent blessing of priceless worth, and a distinguishing honour for a Catholic family to have one or more of the children consecrated to God’s special service for the greater glory of God, the sanctification of self and family, and the salvation of immortal souls.

THE IDEAL CATHOLIC HOME

It has often been said- and it is true enough- that the nation is but a magnified home and that what the home is the nation will be. So we may say that what the Catholic home is, that the parish will be; and what the parish is, such will be the Church at large.

If we look at matters in this light, we cannot but realize the infinite importance of the Catholic home, since from it must go forth the virile strength of .Catholicity.

The perfection of the home should be the goal of every Catholic parent. And what this perfect, or ideal, Catholic home would consist of can be determined bya few moment’s reflection.

To begin with, the morning and evening prayers would be said together. One or the other of the family might be absent occasionally, it is true, but that exception would only confirm the rule. The prayers before and after meals would also be said in common, either father or mother leading those prayers or giving that privilege to the youngest members of the family as they reach the age of four or five.

And would it really be too much to say the Rosary together in the evening? It need not keep the older ones from their legitimate diversions; it may be said just before the earliest hour when the little children go to bed. Added to this prayer of the Rosary would be the reading in common of a passage from the Bible each week or even every day. All this would not be transforming the home into a monastery or a convent, nor would it be depriving parents or children of their freedom and legitimate good times.

In the ideal Catholic home there would be crucifixes on the walls and pictures of Christ, or His Blessed Mother, and of the saints. Not only would they be in the bedrooms but in the living rooms as well. And what a beautiful sight it is to see on the dresser in the bedroom or in some niche in any room a shrine of the Sacred Heart, Our Lady, St. Joseph, or any favourite saint with lights burning before it and lights around.

Each home would have such a little altar; and if it can be in a separate room where family prayers are said together, it becomes a family oratory and a hallowed spot of Catholic devotion.

There would be holy water fonts at the bedroom doors at heights that all could conveniently reach; and they would always be kept neat and clean and supplied with holy water. Those who go in and out would devoutly bless themselves. All the children would be enrolled in the scapular and wear either it or a scapular medal. All the members of the family would have a rosary and a prayer book; and often other religious articles would be numbered among their dearest treasures.

The sick-call outfit would be complete and always ready. There would be a little library of Catholic reading, and among them the Bible would occupy the place of honour. There would be two or more Catholic magazines or papers, among them the diocesan weekly. (Religious reading ought to be more and more recognized as a practical means of fostering the spiritual life in the family.)

Among the spiritual practices in the ideal Catholic home would be a Christmas crib alongside the Christmas tree, gifts that possess a Christian symbol, Christmas Communions together-and similar things might be said of other great feasts. The family would make real feasts of First Communion and Confirmation days, and would have a little celebration for the saints” days of each member of the family. The family would sing Catholic songs and simpler hymns, and tune in on Catholic radio programmes, and include some Catholic masterpieces among the record collection.

Having the house blessed on certain occasions is another sign of a Catholic home, and so is preparing for big feasts by a novena and letting the principal meal of the day itself take on the nature of a festivity.

Individuals in the ideal Catholic home would participate in the various parish activities and let their membership exert its influence upon home life also.

INSTRUMENTS OF GOD

Today we need more homes that fulfil these specifications.

Whatever the so-called experts may say about the techniques of child-raising, machinery can never replace the guiding spirit of the home. No man ever said his prayers at the knees of a vacuum cleaner, or drew his first lessons of manliness from the songs of a phonograph or the good-night stories of the television.

For the child there is no substitute for the strong and Christ-like faith of the father, or for the tender and inspirational piety of the mother.

It comes to this: God has confided souls to those who reign at the fireside.

Parents are His instruments, and to them is given the magnificent opportunity of shaping souls for heaven.

WHAT PARENT CAN AFFORD TO REFUSE?

Nihil Obstat:

BERNARD O”CONNOR, Diocesan Censor.

Imprimatur:

@ J.D. SIMONDS,

Archbishop of Melbourne. ********

Most of the unhappy people in the world, and all the sinners, are victims, not of injustice and persecution from others, but of their own self-pity. Are you among them?

Are You A Victim of Self-Pity?

BY DONALD F. MILLER, C.SS.R

INDEX

Perhaps nobody, on reading the above title, will feel inclined to answer the question with a yes. It is our experience, in dealing with many thousands of troubled souls, that people resent the accusation that they are victims of self-pity almost as much as being called liars or hypocrites. At least there is usually a quick reaction of self-defence against the charge.

Whoever you are, or whatever be your first reaction to the above title, don’t toss this pamphlet aside as if it could not possibly offer anything that you need. Self-pity is like a hidden cancer; it may have crept up on you without your being aware of it. You can become aware of it, and do something about it, only if you look boldly and humbly at the many ways in which it can manifest itself in human character.

In order to help you examine yourself carefully for signs of self-pity, we propose to do four things: 1) to explain what self-pity is not; 2) to define in general what it is; 3) to show how self-pity can wreck all the important relationships in a person’s life; 4) to offer remedies for self-pity.

I. WHAT SELF-PITY IS NOT

In speaking of self-pity as a bad trait of character, one must not give the impression that there is anything wrong with pity itself. Pity is a great virtue, but it is that virtue by which one has compassion on the sorrows and sufferings of others. Rightly acquired and cultivated, the virtue of pity leads to the works of mercy, such as feeding the hungry, clothing the naked, giving homes to orphans, etc. From this it is clear that self-pity is a contradiction; it turns something that by its nature is meant to concern itself with the sufferings of others inward upon oneself alone.

It is not self-pity to possess a realistic knowledge of the fact that this world is, as Cathol ics call it in the “Hail, Holy Queen,” a vale of tear’s, an exile, a place of trial, where there are bound to be sufferings, some coming mysteriously from the hand of God, and some having to be chosen freely as the price of loyalty to God’s laws. Anybody can say like Job, without succumbing to selfpity, that “man, born of woman, is filled with many miseries,” (Job, 14:1) so long as he can also say like Job, “I know that my Redeemer liveth, and in the last day I shall rise out of the earth and I shall be clothed again with my skin, and in my flesh I shall see my God.” (Job, 19:25) Self-pity sees only the miseries of self, nothing of the hope that takes the sting from them.

Nor is it self-pity to grieve spontaneously and deeply at times when one suffers some great loss or especially difficult trial. One who has lost all power of inclination to weep in the face of tragedy, involving oneself or others, is no longer a complete human being. A good son or daughter who weeps at the death of a beloved mother or father is not to be accused of selfpity. However, there are individuals who do not permit time and submission to God’s will to heal their griefs, but instead permit them to become a habit of self-pity.

Finally, it should be clear that this study deals with the kind of self-pity that is curable, not with that which is associated with psychotic states or diseased conditions of the mind called melancholia. The horrible depressions, worries, fears and self-accusations that the mentally distressed suffer need special professional treatment. However, it can also be said that failure to deal sternly with self-pity in oneself in its early stages often contributes to later mental breakdowns.

II. WHAT SELF-PITY IS

Self-pity is a complex thing, not easy to define in a few simple words. A picture of it, as it is seen in the lives of many people, can best be given through a description of its three principal features. After presenting each feature, we shall add a number of questions through which an individual can learn for himself whether he is inclined toward self-pity, or already its victim.

1 . SELFPITY IS MARKED BY THE HABIT OF CONCENTRATING ONE’S INNER THOUGHTS AND ATTENTION ON ONE’S OWN TROUBLES, OR ON ONE PARTICULAR CAUSE FOR SORROW.

This means that the general direction of a person’s innermost thoughts is toward the circumstances in his life that make for sadness. Some people see only gloom in everything within them and around them. Others succumb to selfpity because of one particular happening in their lives, and they refuse to think of scarcely anything but that. Thus a person who has lost a beloved relative or friend by death can make the memory of that loss and the sorrow connected with it the focal point of all his thinking, and refuse to snap out of the sadness such thinking always causes. Thus a person whose marriage has failed can refuse to permit anything but the thought of his (or her) misery and loneliness to dominate his mind, until this leads, as will be shown below, to terrible sins in an effort to escape sadness.

Ask yourself these questions, and answer them sincerely, if you want to know whether this first feature of self-pity is to be found in you:

When I am alone, do I find myself thinking, most of the time, of my miseries, my ill-health, my unhappiness in marriage, my lack of success in business, my inability to have what most prosperous people have?

Do I permit myself to think that I have been neglected and forgotten by God, or cruelly and unjustly treated by Him?

Do I sum up my whole life by saying it has been nothing but a burden, and sometimes by saying, “I wish I had never been born?”

Am I accustomed to look only at the hardships of my state in life, and to consider them too heavy to be borne? As a wife and mother, am I among those who consider bearing children and rearing children just an endless and unrelieved bore? As a husband and father have I got into the habit of considering the task of supporting and raising a family so grinding that I’m constantly wishing I were a free man again?

Am I constantly comparing my lot in life with that of others, and then concluding that I’m worse off than practically everybody else?

2. SELF-PITY IS MARKED BY HABITUAL FAILURE AND EVEN REFUSAL TO THINK OF, A) THE THINGS FOR WHICH ONE SHOULD BE GRATEFUL, B) THE COMPENSATIONS AND REWARDS THAT GOD HAS PROMISED TO THOSE WHO SUFFER WITH RESIGNATION AND CHEERFULNESS.

Since most of the time of the victim of self-pity is spent in thinking of his aches and pains, his miseries and his sorrows, he naturally cannot bring himself to think of the reasons he has for gratitude and joy. Self-pity is really a powerful weapon of the devil; he encourages it wherever he can because he knows that its victims will gradually lose all sense of gratitude to God, of penance for their sins, of hope for a reward in heaven, of appreciation for the good things God has given them on earth together with the pain He has allowed them to suffer.

It is remarkable to notice what trivial things can sometimes blind the victims of self-pity to all the motives they have for gratitude and even joy. All human sufferings are trivial, of course, in relation to the joys of heaven. But sometimes you will find a fabulously rich man wallowing in self-pity because he cannot crash certain circles of society, or because somebody has been given an important office that he wanted. And sometimes people in middleclass circumstances, with much to be thankful for, make themselves wretched because they cannot step up to a higher social and economic level that some of their relatives have attained. They have so narrowed down their outlook that they can see nothing but some small thing that they want and do not have.

Ask yourself these questions about this second feature of self-pity :

Have I practically given up all thought of a heaven, where there will be no sorrows, and limited my outlook to the possible joys I can attain in this world, especially to those I do not possess?

Do I ever thank God for my life as a free, immortal human being, endowed with many wonderful faculties and powers, and a glorious destiny in heaven?

If someone reminds me of the things I should be grateful for, do I brush him off with such words as, “All that is worthless, because I suffer so much from what I don’t have?”

Do I ever think of relating my sufferings to my sins, and thank God for having forgiven me, and for permitting me to make some atonement for my sins?

Do I never meditate on the passion and death of Christ with the realization that, for my sins, He suffered a thousand times as much as He asks me to suffer?

Do I ever pray for the virtue of gratitude, and for the grace to overcome my tendency to self-pity?

3. SELF-PITY IS MARKED BY BITTER RESENTMENT AGAINST OTHERS, WHO ARE HELD RESPONSIBLE FOR THE SUFFERINGS ONE MUST ENDURE.

There is no self-pity without some resentment against God. Those who become its victims have lost all sight of the goodness, the mercy, the providence of God, and of His promises of a reward for every cross. Something of the attitude of the unrepentant thief who died on a cross beside our Lord is theirs; they may not express it in the thief’s words, but their selfpity is a way of saying like the thief, “Take me down from my cross, and then I will believe in you.”

This resentment, against God usually overflows into bitterness against one’s fellow man. The victim of self-pity has a keen sense of justice, but a very narrow sense of justice, namely, as it should be practiced toward himself by others. More than that, you would think, to hear him talk, that he was the only one who was ever treated so unfairly and unjustly in the history of the world. “Why,” he says, “should I have to suffer all these things? What did I do to deserve such illtreatment?” (The answer you are expected to assume is “nothing.”) “Why can’t I get a little justice in this world?”

In its extreme form this becomes the persecution complex called paranoia, a mental disease that makes those afflicted with it imagine all sorts of plots and conspiracies against their happiness.

The victim of self-pity is not necessarily mentally diseased; he does suffer, like everybody else in the world, slights, unkindnesses, mistreatment, injustices, perhaps, from others. But he has never grown up enough to see in these things a part of the pattern of every human life, an opportunity for charity and forgiveness, an occasion for doing penance for his own sins, a source of merit and increased happiness in heaven. Nothing but his own concept of perfect justice will rescue him from self-pity, and that he will never receive.

As a result, the victim of self-pity makes a very unpleasant companion. His conversation, like his thoughts, centres around how much he is abused, how unjustly he is treated, how great is his-suffering. No one remains his friend who does not constantly sympathize with him and feed his self-pity. That is why he has few friends.

Ask yourself these questions about this feature of self-pity :

Is the word “injustice,” meaning the injustice of others toward me, frequently on my lips?

Do I resent the fact that, while God seems to favour others with wealth, with popularity, with positions of prominence and power, He left me, who deserve more than these others, poor, forgotten, unrecognized?

Do I resent the fact that God, society and those around me seem to have conspired to make the course of my life an unhappy one?

Do I resentfully blame God and other human beings because I’m single and cannot find a good mate for marriage? Do I resentfully blame God and my husband or wife because I’m married, and have found marriage to be no bed of roses?

Do I constantly complain and grumble about my sufferings, nag at those around me for not treating me more justly, repeatedly run down and criticize those whom I think to be more favoured than I am?

Do I pout and bear grudges and refuse to speak to my family or friends for days, because I feel that they should suffer for their injustices to me?

Answer these questions boldly, and only then say whether you are inclined to self-pity or not.

III. HOW SELFPITY WRECKS ONE’S LIFE

There is no important relationship in human life that is not in some way upset and ruined through self-pity. Consider how it affects the two most important relationships, namely, relationship to God, and relationship to one’s family.

1 ) SELFPITY RUINS ONE’S RELATIONSHIP TO GOD. THE REASON IS SIMPLE; IT IS BECAUSE SELF-PITY INEVITABLY LEADS TO SIN, AND SIN MAKES ONE WHO WAS DESTINED TO BE A FRIEND OF GOD HIS ENEMY.

Make no mistake about it: there is a great degree of self-pity behind every mortal sin that is ever committed by a human being. All three features of self-pity described above are present there. 1) a concentration of the mind on the terrible suffering that will be involved in keeping a serious law of God; 2) failure to think of all the good things God has given and promised, that can be enjoyed without sin; 3) resentment against God and His Church for having made a certain law, and sometimes against God’s priests for preaching God’s law.

The sinner may not say so in words ; indeed, he may say the very opposite in words, but the fact is that he so resents a law of God that he is willing to crucify Jesus Christ the Son of God by breaking that law.

Here are examples of how self-pity leads to sin.

The man and woman who have entered an invalid marriage, one that is the beginning of a life of habitual sin, first filled their hearts with selfpity before they took their fatal step. “We have a right,” they said, “to this happiness. God, with all His power and authority, has no right to deny us this. If we don’t live with each other as if married, life will be too lonely, miserable, intolerable.” And the longer they live in their bad marriage, the more they pity themselves at the thought of giving up their sins. They pity themselves, not Jesus Christ, hanging, bleeding, suffering, dying on a cross for just such sin, and dying in vain for them when they are not given up by the sinner.

So it is with every serious sin-contraception, abortion, fornication, hatred, stealing, etc. First there is the build-up of self-pity, which blinds the mind to the rights and laws of the Creator, to the promised joys of heaven, to the pleading love of Jesus Christ on the cross; then follows the sin or the habit of sin. Maybe it’s because sinners pity themselves so much on earth that it is said they will, if hardened in sin till death, curse themselves forever in hell.

2). Selfpity ruins one’s relationship to one’s family. In every unhappy home; there will be at least one person who is a victim of self-pity. It may be the wife, who, when she learns by experience the full meaning of what she contracted for when she got married, decides that it is too much, it is unjust, and in self-pity refuses to accept God’s will for a good wife. It may be the husband, who, when the emotional love of courtship and early marriage has cooled off, starts pitying himself to the extent that he seeks escape from his duties as a husband and father.

Sometimes, too, one partner to a marriage falls into self-pity because the other partner turned out to be less than perfect, or guilty of great neglect of duty and even of many sins. Such a one forgets the words uttered in the marriage ceremony, “I take you, for better, for worse.” These words were meant to ward off self-pity. They were like saying: “If things turn out worse than I expected in this marriage, indeed, if they turn out as bad as they can possibly be, I’ll accept it all for the love of God, and I’ll still save my soul, and try to save my partner’s soul.”

However, homes continue to be wrecked:

Because a husband pities himself for having to bother with children and to spend evenings with his wife, and takes to the tavern and late hours with the “boys,” and coming home half drunk.

Because a wife pities herself for not being married to a richer or more successful man and makes things miserable for her husband because he does not rise to the heights of success.

Because both husband and wife pity themselves for the awful burden they must carry in bearing and rearing children, or for the terrible sacrifice involved in practicing continence at various times when this is the only way of avoiding sin. It is not the children nor the continence that wrecks marriages; it is the self-pity into which the married let themselves fall in conjunction with these things.

IV. REMEDIES FOR SELF-PITY

We offer these remedies for self-pity, without which this spiritual disease can never be cured.

THE FIRST IS HUMBLE AND CHEERFUL SUBMISSION TO GOD’S WILL. THIS MEANS BEING ABLE TO SAY TO ONESELF: “GOD IS MY MAKER.

He made me for Himself, which means for perfect happiness. He has a right to command me, and to do with me what He will. He could make my life a thousand times more difficult than it is, in view of the fact that He has heaven waiting for me at the end. I want His will, not my own will, no matter how much it may hurt or how much it may cost me at times. I shall never complain of anything that is God’s will for me.”

The second is confident dependence on God’s helping grace. This means being able to say: “Jesus Christ warned me that I would have to bear crosses in following Him, but He also promised me divine and miraculous help to carry them cheerfully if only I would pray for it. Inevery temptation to pity myself because of the crosses that come my way, I’ll turn more eagerly to prayer, to the Mass, to the sacraments, through which I know I’ll receive the grace to do God’s will and carry the crosses that He sends.”

The third is personal devotion to the passion and death of Jesus Christ and His Immaculate Mother as the Mother of Sorrows. All the sufferings of ordinary human beings, even those of martyrs who are tortured for their love of God, are small in comparison with those of Christ and His Mother. This is because no ordinary mortal man has the capacity for suffering that Christ had, nor even that which was given to His Mother.

The one thing to be remembered in order to escape self-pity is that the sufferings of Christ and His sinless Mother were willingly accepted for every human being in the world. How little are one’s own in comparison! How can anyone wish to add to those sufferings by committing the least sin out of self-pity?

Imprimi Potest;

John N. McCormick, C.SS.R. Provincial, St. Louis Province, Redemptorist Fathers

Oct. 14, 1959

Imprimatur:

St. Louis, Oct. 19, 1959 @ Joseph E. Ritter

Archbishop of St. Louis

********

Are You Mature Enough?

JEAN E. LAIRD

INDEX

The contents of this pamphlet are concerned with the natural virtues necessary for successful living. The science of psychology can teach us many things. Religion motivates us to supernaturalize these natural aids by doing them out of love for God, self, and neighbour. All of Christianity is wrapped up in these words: “Love God above all things, and love your neighbour as you love yourself.”

Introduction

Recent statistics show some 395,000 out of 1,527,000 marriages blow up each year . . . or one out of every four! Shocking statistics, aren’t they? And the situation isn’t getting any better- but worse, psychologists say.

What has gone wrong? During courtship the young couple is vitally interested in each other’s hobbies, sports, reading matter, etc. Those athletically inclined play tennis together, swim together, bowl together, and golf together. After a few years of marriage the man is drawn toward his work, and the woman toward her home and children. This is when the “maturity quotient” either takes its toll or becomes an important stabilizing factor.

Maturity is a steady progression, and sometimes it takes a rather strong lever to pry one loose from childish ways of thought and behaviour. A sense of maturity is not only a prime requisite for successful marriage; it is also necessary for general well-being and happiness.

It is a popular belief that people do not change much in personality. So often we meet an old friend and think, “Good old Mary is the same as she was 20 years ago.” But, a recent study conducted by Dr. Lowell Kelly, professor of psychology at the University of Michigan, shows that important personality changes do occur as the years go on. These changes may be slow, hardly noticeable, and undramatic, but nevertheless they are there.

People who constantly try to develop more mature characteristics find their personality changes to be a very positive thing. All too often, however, the opposite is true. And this for various reasons. As infants we are completely selfish. To ourselves, we are more important than anything or anybody else in the world. During the process of development, we should arrive at a certain balance called maturity. But many of us never attain that perfect balance.

A prominent psychologist in the state of New York tells this experience about his visit with his wife’s mother. After having met the woman only briefly, the young doctor and his wife spent the weekend with her parents . . . and it was a long weekend. The psychologist found his mother-in-law to be a very domineering woman who dispensed advice starting with what one should eat for breakfast and continuing to how wide the windows should be opened at bedtime. The advice-giving had become more than a habit with her. It was a compulsion. If everyone didn’t do as she suggested, she pouted.

Before leaving he asked in all politeness: “How in the world did you people manage to spoil your mother so completely?” Maturity, it seems, is not an age, but a “stage”; and this poor woman made herself as well as everyone in the household miserable, because she never “outgrew” this childish tendency. If confronted with it, she would no doubt reply: “Well, that’s the way I am, and that’s all there is to it.”

People who have never developed mature attitudes aren’t necessarily against self-improvement. However, we are told they are against “change,” which prevents them from progressing toward something better.

The older we get, the more we realize that life is just a continuous chain of situations. Age is not necessary for maturity, but the more years we live the greater is our opportunity to develop maturity.

To be a first-rate housewife and mother, emotional and mental maturity is a “must.” This role requires unselfishness, courage, the ability to budget time as well as money, and the knack of hanging on to a sense of humour during a catastrophe. Emotional maturity can spell the difference between survival and cracking up.

To be a successful husband and father a man must be able to expect the unexpected. Problems arise at work. Communication can bog down. Personal relationships may bring entanglements. At home, too, emergencies arise to challenge even the strongest. A man’s most priceless asset is his maturity.

Signs of Maturity

What do the experts consider as “signs” of maturity? From the many studies and research projects conducted each year by prominent psychologists all over the country, we have picked out 21 “signs of maturity,” and here they are:

Mature persons know they should Not Give Advice unless they are asked for it; and then it should be given in the form of a suggestion. If your good friend, Jane, has a spot on her carpeting which she has found impossible to remove, tell her that such-and-such cleaner worked for you—being careful to leave the decision up to her.

Tactfulness is a sign of maturity. What is tact? It is the ability to hammer home a point without hitting the other guy on the thumb . . . the ability to sail through life without saying the wrong thing at the wrong time, habitually blundering and leaving a trail of wounded feelings behind us. It is the gift of telling the truth and still getting along with others, of dealing honestly with people without giving offense. At times it can mean telling the whole truth, a part of it, gently evading it, or not saying anything at all.

Mature persons Take Their Jobs Seriously, and do their very best at it. How many times have you had checkers or cashiers at the grocery counter look right through you and the expensive food items you are purchasing, while they perform their arithmetic without so much as dropping a stitch in the conversation they are knitting with a fellow cashier in the next aisle? This sort of immature attitude toward one’s job surrounds us on all sides. The mature person will also stick to a project or job he has started, even though he has begun to hate it, just because he believes everything started ought to be finished. If he decides to give up a plan or project, his decision is clear-cut without brooding or becoming resentful over it.

The mature person has learned to Live With the Imperfections he can do nothing about. If a real personality problem or physical liability exists, he refrains from discussing it. Why? Because this only embarrasses others and puts them in a position where they feel they must be reassuring when they may not know how to handle the situation gracefully. If you can’t overcome a handicap, act as if you didn’t have it.

As Beethoven became deaf, he worked with more and more industry at his musical compositions, turning out better and better work.

The mature person has learned to Give the Benefit of the Doubt. He refuses to listen to malicious gossip, and believes the best rather than the worst. He does not judge other people on the basis of rumours. He also avoids criticizing others. (Any loyal person will resent having his friends criticized.) He knows that hiding within every petulant, sharp-tongued critic lies a shivering, uncertain soul struggling to find security and maturity.

Mature people Lend a Helping Hand tactfully, without seeming to be patronizing. For instance, she can “help” the new bride or novice cook without stealing the scene.

The mature person is Content to Be Utterly Useless at Times. If she is invited to someone’s home for dinner and the hostess declines her offer to help, the mature person sits back and enjoys it. She knows too many people in the kitchen may unnerve the hostess.

To Accept Gifts Graciously is a sign of maturity, for an ungraciously accepted gift can inflict deep hurt. Mrs. B. L., of Chicago, tells about the time she met the jubilant husband of her best friend on his way home from work with a beautifully wrapped package. “You know, Martha has always wanted a fur coat,” he said. “For more than three years I have saved a few dollars here and there from my spending money to get it for her. Come along home with me and see her face light up when she sees it!”

Mrs. B. L. went along with him, and watched Martha open the package. Her first exclamation was, “Oh, Bill, how could you? You know how badly the house needs painting.” Then grudgingly, “Of course, it is really lovely. How sweet of you to buy it for me.” It was too late. The more than three years of generous thought had been cooled with her first reaction.

Leigh Hunt once wrote: “To receive a present in the right spirit, even when you have none to give in return, is to give one in return.”

The mature person has also learned to Accept Help Graciously. Although they aren’t gift wrapped, charitable deeds basically say and mean the same thing as other gifts: “I love you,” “I miss you,” “I want to see you happy.” Why, then, is it so hard for some of us to receive services or favours? Perhaps because many times we have to ask for them. One expert in the field of psychology answers the question this way: “Most of us like to think we can care for ourselves. When we have to ask for outside help, we feel that in some way we have failed. We ‘lose face,’ and it is an uncomfortable thing for us to live with.”

Another expert says, “Sometimes we don’t want to become indebted to the giver, no matter how desperately we need the help.” Or, maybe we feel the “helper” will think he has a right to “meddle” in our affairs. Everyone must at one time or other accept help of some sort, either professional or personal, directly or indirectly. Even if we use a friend’s name as a reference, this is a plea for help. But, if we can maturely think of this kind of “help” as sharing, we can get rid of the resentment factor which makes us ask ourselves, “Why must I ask him for help? Now I will be indebted to him.” The mature person feels grateful that “that person” is going to have a chance to share- to help out.

Much has been said about the “blessedness” of giving, yet without a “receiver” there can be no “giver.”

It isn’t hard for the mature person to Admit When He Is Wrong. He recognizes his own disabilities. He doesn’t try to fool himself, because he realizes it is much easier to fool himself than to fool others. And, he can own up to his own mistakes and failings.

The small tot is a genius at finding alibis and scapegoats. (“Jimmy made me spill my milk.”) And many adults never get far above this level, although their excuses might seem a bit more sophisticated. (“I couldn’t finish college because my parents didn’t have the money.”) The mature person knows that it is he- not his parents, fate, his teachers, or his friends—who is responsible for the way his life turns out.

The mature person Can Be Candid When Necessary. He has learned the magic of using words such as “I am sorry,” “thank you,” “I enjoyed doing it for you,” spoken with sincerity and warmth. He has also learned how to compliment, and does so as often as possible.

People who are caught in a white lie should readily admit the deception- being careful to do it kindly. Suppose you have told Beth you can’t go shopping with her because you must go to visit your mother, when you actually have an appointment with your doctor. Then you run into Beth’s husband just outside the physician’s office. What should you do? The mature person smiles warmly, and says: “Please tell Beth you caught me in the act. I told my little white lie because it is so boring to talk about one’s ailments.”

Mature persons Are Considerate of Others. Experts tell us this kind of maturity is better “caught” than “taught.” The considerate child is likely to have parents who were thoughtful of others. Not that they were old-fashioned, standoffish, prissy, or prim, but they observed a code which, in bygone days, was referred to as “the golden rule.” They treated their children (and everyone else) as they themselves would like to be treated. And, because of their example, their children learned to be considerate.

Consideration for others prompts us to wait our turn in line at the movie theatre, checkout counter, etc. We have all had the experience of seeing someone barge to the head of the line, whispering some banal excuse to the person he steps in front of. Now, nobody is going to take a person by the scruff of his neck and put him in his place, no matter how inconsiderately he has behaved. He knows this, and this is his protection. Such immaturity is really to be pitied.

Mature persons Try to Solve Their Own Problems. They know when—and when not- to tell their troubles. They confide their personal woes only to a very trusted friend, a counsellor, a priest, or a minister. When at a party or other festive occasion they have the ability to conceal their problems, so everyone can enjoy a cheerful good time.

Self-discipline is a sign of maturity. This will often mean postponing personal pleasure for the sake of a greater good. The mature person can turn off an enjoyable TV program because he knows he needs his sleep for the full day of work ahead.

The mature person has mastered Self-control. The very small infant cries at the first hunger pang. Gradually, however, he learns to put up with waiting and not having his parents indulge his every whim. As he grows older, he realizes there are certain things he would like to do and say, but he must control these desires. He may want to hurt his mother and tell his grandmother to “take a jump in the lake,” but he isn’t allowed to do this. He learns that his impulses—whether they stem from anger, excitement, or affection- all have limitations and must be kept under control. He has arrived at maturity.

The mature person always Returns Borrowed Property Promptly, and with the proper expressions of appreciation. She believes that borrowed household equipment should be returned as soon as possible, and that borrowed books should be read and returned within a week to ten days. And she makes sure the items are restored in the same condition in which they were lent. If they break or become damaged while in her use, she has them repaired or replaced.

Respect for the Mental Privacy of others is a sign of maturity. Invasion of another’s thoughts or a demand for their confidences, as well as eavesdropping and/or poorly-disguised curiosity are all indications of immaturity.

The mature person doesn’t think “budget” is a word to be scorned. He is Wise in the Way He Handles His Money. He doesn’t hoard, nor does he spend compulsively. He doesn’t feel the need to be surrounded by status symbols. He is not afraid to spend money on things that don’t show- such as insurance, a medical plan, etc.

And, the mature person cannot be persuaded to buy a product he doesn’t really think right for his needs and pocketbook. He has “sales resistance” and this is ruled solely by his good judgment.

Mature persons have Learned to Be Tolerant. They can see things from another’s viewpoint, granting them the right to their own opinions and peculiarities. They do not harbor grudges, brood over disappointments, nor do they become easily angered.

The mature person Does Not Expect Everyone to Like Him. He is not afraid to say “no” even though he would be more popular if he said “yes.” He is also unafraid to feel very strongly about a lot of things. Many people think exuberance and enthusiasm are signs of immaturity. “Not so,” say the psychiatrists. In fact, Dr. Theodore I. Rubin says, “Dedication to winning on any level in any area requires an intensity of emotional investment.”

Not a person to sit back, he acts constructively to promote his beliefs. If he doesn’t like the way his government is being run, he gets involved in politics and works for the changes he would like to see. If he is concerned about the deprived, the poor, or handicapped children, he volunteers his services to help them.

Mature people develop a Deep Sense of Responsibility. Most of us have met at least one truly irresponsible person in our lifetimes. She is the girl who can mess up her life without ever really trying at all. She can disrupt a home, undermine an organization, and wreck a working team in quick order. She has never grown up to realize that the entire world wasn’t created for her convenience.

We are also familiar with the semi-responsible person. She knows a certain amount of responsibility is required in the mature adult; yet- with only slight evidence- she convinces herself that she is pulling her fair share of the weight.

She is the young wife who agrees with her husband’s decision to take a job across the country, and then makes his life miserable with her complaints (“I didn’t know I wasn’t going to like it”). She is also the young mother who will take great pains to explain to you that she can’t control her children because . . . there is inadequate supervision at school (the class-rooms are too crowded), all the neighbours let their children run wild, they see so much violence on TV, etc.

We are also no stranger to the over- responsible person. He is the man who is a supervisor, yet insists on doing most of the work of his subordinates. He overburdens himself, while complaining loud and long about having to do everything himself to make sure it is done right.

Or, it may be the girl who stays home with her mother, and complains bitterly about her lot in life. Perhaps she has turned down offers for marriage because she feels “responsible for her mother.” She has even refused offers of help from her brothers and sisters -to preserve her image as a “martyr.” Her great responsibility to her mother probably stems from an unwillingness to take responsibility for herself. (In many cases, she has even turned a deaf ear to her mother’s hints that she get out and find a husband.)

The truly responsible person knows how to limit himself. He doesn’t try to run an office, head the Little League, a community group, and a home-all this simultaneously- if he realizes he won’t be able to do justice to any of them. He knows that true responsibility consists of knowledge of himself and of others, and the willingness to apply it in every area of life to the best of his ability.

He understands that mature responsibility has its rewards, some of which are tangible. The willingness to do a little more than the job calls for is what turns secretaries into junior executives, and assistants into department heads. And he knows it also carries with it an inner satisfaction in the knowledge that he is doing his very best.

Conclusion

Perhaps the most important aspect of maturity is the fact that the mature person likes and respects himself. He works hard at developing his strong points. He finds out what he can do successfully . . . and then he does it!

Maturity is that fortunate state of mind that can help you do more, be more, and be happier- whether you are 17 or 70. If you don’t quite see yourself as having mastered all of these qualities, the mere fact that you can admit to immaturities shows that you are more mature than you think!

Becoming a mature adult is never- ending hard work. No previous experience is required; the hours are long, but the rewards are fantastic!

********

Are You Scrupulous?

BY DANIEL A. LORD, S.J

INDEX

AN INTERVIEW WITHFRANCIS J. O’BOYLE, S.J

“Scruples exist among people of every race,” said Father O”Boyle, thoughtfully. “Yet scruples seem to be a disease peculiarly AngloSaxon.”

We were sitting in Father O”Boyle’s pri vate room. From that room, for some twenty years or more, Father Francis J. O”Boyle has been going to class to teach young Jesuits how to hear confessions and care for the problems of human souls. To that room have come literally thousands of men of all classes of society to discuss their mortal difficulties. Into that room have been brought tremendous volumes of mail: letters from people seeking solutions for their problems; letters from priests asking expert guidance in the care of their penitents; letters from men and women religious seeking advice for themselves and for the members of their community; letters from troubled men and women who are old, and from disturbed men and women who are still young. Father O”Boyle has left that room a thousand times to give retreats, to hear confessions, to listen to the problems that innumerable men and women have presented to him.

CONSULTANT

I sincerely doubt that any other priest in the United States has as deep a theoretical knowledge and as wide a practical experience as has Father O”Boyle in all that concerns the problems of human conduct and human souls.

That is why I made the special trip to consult him on the matter of scruples. So many people, I had found, were made unhappy by scruples; so many went through life wretched because of them. And I had come seeking expert advice, advice which would serve as a guide for scrupulous souls and would aid those who must counsel scrupulous souls. Out of the findings of a lifetime of experience and study Father O”Boyle was answering my questions.

AMERICAN DISEASE

“I suppose,” said Father O”Boyle, “that there are hundreds of thousands of scrupulous people in our country. Yet I lived and worked for a number of years in Austria and met hardly a single person who suffered from scruples. Recently I was talking to an American priest who worked for some time in Rome. He said that only rarely had he met a scrupulous Italian. Is this scrupulosity one of our national diseases?”

“Perhaps,” I ventured, “it is part of our intense American nervousness.”

“Perhaps,” he agreed. “The surprising thing Is that men are more likely to be scrupulous than women. Often, too devout priests and religious are excessively scrupulous.”

NOT DELICATE

“Now,” he continued, “let’s get this perfectly clear: A delicate conscience and a scrupulous conscience are not the same thing at all. A person with a delicate conscience knows exactly what sin is and shrinks from the slightest approach to sin. The man with a delicate conscience is exactly honest and honourable. The woman with a delicate conscience has a lovely modesty and a purity that make her draw back from even the slightest contact with sin. Such persons know the various kinds of sins and can see clearly the precise distinction between a mortal and a venial sin. When they come to Confession their confession will be marvellously exact. They know what sins they have committed; they confess those sins; they are sorry; but they are untroubled.

“A delicate conscience is a beautiful thing and must never be destroyed. It Is right and accurate and correct and is often the sign of high sanity.

“A scrupulous person on the other hand does not really know what sin is, at least in his own case. He is always uncertain. He Is troubled with incessant doubt. He cannot be sure whether or not this particular act is a sin. Or, if he knows that the act is a sin, he cannot be sure whether or not he was guilty of it. He thinks that he was guilty, but he isn’t positive. He runs to Confession; he makes a confession that is filled with the retailing of sins he is not certain he has committed; and he steps out of the confessional dissatisfied, uncertain in an agony of fear that his confession has been bad and that his sins are unforgiven.

“That state of horrible uncertainty within the soul is pitiful. And that, I take it, is what you are talking about.”

UNHAPPY PEOPLE

I nodded. This second word picture that Father O”Boyle had drawn was a description of a scrupulous soul such as I had so often met. It was the picture of a troubled man or a troubled woman who sincerely wanted to be good but who was eternally becoming confused about what was right and what was wrong, about how good or how bad was the confession over which he had spent perhaps hours in preparation and other hours in review.

“It’s unfortunate,” I mused, “that religion should cause men and women such pain and unhappiness.”

“Oh,” said Father O”Boyle, “religious scruples are only one form of scruple. There are all sorts of worries with which people uselessly trouble themselves. There are people who become sick with anxiety in their efforts to avoid dirt. (You can, by the way, see a connection between dirt and sin; for physical dirt is to the body something of what sin is to the soul.) Such people always wear gloves lest they be contaminated. They wouldn’t touch a door handle that others have touched, even If they should have to stay in a room forever. Sometimes they’ll bathe ten or fifteen times during a single day, endlessly washing away dirt that isn’t there.

NATURAL SCRUPLES

“I”ve known a number of people who had this kind of scruple. They were afraid to kiss a crucifix because they feared that there were germs on that crucifix. They would not kneel down to receive a blessing because they thought their knees might become dirty. A fear of dirt and a fear of germs are forms of physical scruples sadly common among sane people.

“Then there are scruples about health. And again I think you can see the parallel here between the physical and the spiritual. Some people worry for fear their bodies will die; others worry for fear their souls will die. Health scruples often lead people to eat only one kind of food. The man suffering from scruples about his health feels that he must sleep in a room that has a certain temperature. He believes that he must sleep with his head to the east or to the north or to the south, as the case may be.

“And there are people whose scruples lead them to spend hours adjusting everything in their room before they dare to go to sleep. They must have their shoes at a certain angle. The things on their bureau must be in a sort of regimentation, with the hair brushes and clothes brushes and cushions and gadgets all in an exact line. They cannot go to bed until everything is in order. They are a little like people who have to line up their faults in an over-minute examination of conscience before they dare go to confession .”

“Pathetic,” I commented.

“Very pathetic,” said Father O”Boyle. “So you see, spiritual scruples are just one kind of scruples. But spiritual scruples are infinite in their manifestations. And”-he shook his head a little ruefully-”though they are, as I”11 show you, fundamentally about the same, if you are talking to a scrupulous person and you fail to mention the exact form that his scruples take, he decides that you don’t understand his case All scrupulous people are really exactly the same in their scruples. But each one thinks he is entirely different from all the rest.”

“What are some of the kinds of scruples?” I asked, thinking of the various types I had encountered.

“Well, there is the person who can’t go to Holy Communion because he thinks he may have broken his fast. Did he swallow a few drops of water when he cleaned his teeth this morning? Did he perhaps breath in a loose feather from his pillow during the night?”

EXAMPLES

“I heard of one wife who carried this sort of thing rather far. Her husband worked at night and usually got home shortly after midnight. Like most night workers, he got a sandwich and a cup of coffee on the way home. Well, if this woman was going to receive Communion the next morning, she wouldn’t kiss her husband. She was afraid that some of the coffee or a few crumbs of the sandwich were still on his lips and that she might break her fast.

“Sad and stupid, all of this, and entirely against the Church’s explanation of how a fast is broken, but this sort of scrupulous person stays away from Holy Communion for just such silly reasons.”

“St. Ignatius gives the example of a man who by accident steps on two crossed straws that are lying on the ground and then decides that he has trodden on the cross and denied the faith. Such a man is one of the many scrupulous people who, having done by accident something probably not sinful at all, decides that he has sinned. When such a person trips and cries out, “0 Lord,” he wonders whether or not he has taken the name of the Lord in vain. If he accidentally bumps against someone, he decides that he has probably injured that person seriously.”

OTHER TYPES

“There is the person who Is terror stricken for fear that he or she (very likely it is she) will set a bad example and will be theoccasion of someone else’s sin. You can see the trouble into which such fear would lead a scrupulous person. A man will begin to see possibilities for the misinterpretation of everything he says; he will begin to fear that others are actually misinterpreting what he says. A girl will begin to believe that her most innocent action is a temptation to men. a temptation f or which she is responsible. A priest will be afraid that someone in his congregation may be lead into heresy through misunderstanding of his sermon. A mother will decide that she is a bad example for her children. The possibilities of this scrupulosity are endless and terrible. And the Church teaches that a man or woman cannot be guilty of another person’s sin unless he or she deliberately tries to make that person sin.

“DID I? DIDN’T I?”

“Then there is the person who can’t be sure whether or not he has fulfilled an obligation. He goes to Mass. But, he asks himself, did he give sufficient attention to the Mass? Lent comes along, and he is constantly torn with trying to decide how much food makes eight ounces. He promises to say some prayers in return for a favour from God; he says the prayers over and over and over, and still he isn’t sure that he has said them. He can’t decide whether today, which is Wednesday, is or is not an Ember Day. He has no reason to believe that It is, but he is in a sweat of fear that It may be.

““Did I intend to do this?” That’s another question that the scrupulous person is always asking himself. The scrupulous priest can’t say Mass. He vests, goes to the foot of the altar, and then, when he gets there, can’t be sure that he intended to say Mass. Why in the world would he be vested and standing at the foot of the altar unless he intended to say Mass?”

I was reminded of the story of the scrupulous priest who used to stand at the foot of the altar and grit his teeth as be made his intention.”Volo missam celebrare” (I wish to say Mass), he would say, grimly. Then one day it occurred to him that there were two Latin verbs which had the form vole. There was the form vole which has the infinitive velle, meaning to intend, to wish. But volo whose infinitive is volaremeans I fly. That realization threw him into consternation. “Suppose God thinks that I am saying, not, “I intend to say Mass,” but “I fly to say Mass”?”

After all, if he were flying to say Mass, he must want to say Mass. But that thought never occurred to him; he was taking no chances that things were perfectly clear to God. From the time of that realization he would say at the foot of the altar,”Volo missam celebrare,” and add immediately, By that I mean volo-velle, not volo-.volare.” And even then he wasn’t sure that God understood.

DUTY WORRIES

“There are all the various kinds of worries about duty,” Father O”Boyle continued. “This mother who slaves from morning to night for her children decides that she is really not fulfilling her obligation to them. This man who sees a young woman that he thinks is pretty considers himself disloyalto his wife. The priest won’t say Mass because he is afraid he has not picked up from the corporal all the particles of the Host. This doctor stops practising because, even though he has been tireless in working for his patients, he feels that he is to blame for the death of a patient.

“To people like this, God seems like a frightful taskmaster who waits hungrily for poor human mistakes and then like an ugly monster jumps out with a roar of triumph when human strength has failed or human limitation has stood in the way of perfection. These people are rather hard on God, aren’t they?

MORTAL OR VENIAL?

“Then there is the large class of people who can’t decide what Is a mortal and what is a venial sin. They hear a vulgar remark. Have they sinned mortally? They mention that some friend of theirs has dyed her hair. Have they committed a serious sin of gossip and scandal? They remember that when they were youngsters they stole a quarter from the teapot in which mother kept her small change. Was that a mortal sin?

“And so on, without limit.”

Father O”Boyle sighed.

“You say you are putting this into a booklet, this talk with me?” he asked.

“Yes,” I answered.

He shook his head.

“I ought to go giving case after case of scruples,” he said. “Because I warn you: If anyone reads this booklet and doesn’t find his particular kind of scruple mentioned in detail, he’ll decide the booklet is of no use to him. He’ll decide that I couldn’t understand his case.”

“Well,” I asked, rather flabbergasted, what can we do about it?”

“Just hope that we can make clear to them that fundamentally all scruples are the same. And I”11 prove it.”

PHYSICAL SIDE

But before he could do this, I changed the subject slightly.

“What causes scruples?” I asked.

“Nobody really knows,” he answered. “And medical science has discovered almost nothing about them. Some few things we do know, however. Youngsters may have been given incorrect instruction. They may have been told, or think they were told, that omitting the saying of their morning and evening prayers is a mortal sin. They may have heard that it is a mortal sin to say damn.

“One man who consulted me thought that he was abnormal because impure pictures entered his mind. He had heard that impure thoughts were sinful. Nobody had explained to him that impure thoughts are wrong only when they are desired, liked, and deliberately harboured. When I explained this to him, it was if a weight dropped from his shoulders. He had started life with false instructions.

RUN-DOWN

“Scruples are often a sign of run-down ,physical or nervous condition. Scruples often come when a person’s resistance is weakened by disease or overwork or a nervous collapse. A doctor or a nerve specialist is the one to handle such cases. The person who has scruples and knows he is not well would be wise to consult a reputable and understanding Catholic doctor.

“Scruples sometimes come to people who have been living for a while and have been thinking much too much about themselves. If a man or a woman start digging into the past, trouble is almost certain to result. Too much introspection, too, much useless self-examination, may easily lead to scruples. A healthy, normal life with the right amount of association with other people is an excellent preventive for scruples.

“There are, I”m sorry to say, some pretty badly written spiritual books that have contributed to the existence of scruples. Those books will say for example, that a person can commit sin without knowing it. The authors shake gory locks as they declare that a man does not know whether he is worthy of love or of hate. They stress sin and evil and omit God’s love and mercy and forgiveness. People who are even slightly inclined to scruples have no business reading books like that. Such books are,as a matter of fact, bad for even unscrupulous people.”

THINKING VERSUS WILLING

As Father O”Boyle hesitated for a moment, I asked him about the nature of those elements which make all scrupulous people pretty much the same. I was interested in that phrase. I felt it was an important point for those who deal with scrupulous people.

“The first element to be considered in cases of scruples,” said Father O”Boyle, “is that the scrupulous person simply cannot distinguish between his thought and his will. Let me show you what I mean.

“Thought is not free. Will is free. Somebody says to me, “Two and two make four,” and whether or not I want to, I have to agree. But somebody says to me, “Let’s go down to the corner and rob a bank.” I am free to say yes or no; the choice is entirely up to me.

“What is true of things that are said to me is equally true of my thoughts, my sight, my hearing my imagination. I hap- pen to be looking through a shop window and see a display of indecent pictures. Nothing in the world can prevent my seeing those pictures, and nothing can prevent my imagination from registering the image of those pictures. A man who is with me makes a smutty remark. Nothing can prevent my hearing that remark. My thoughts are not free. My eyes, my ears, and my imagination have to react to external forces.

“But my will is free. The image of the indecent pictures has registered on my mind. Is that a sin? Certainly not. It’s no more a sin than if those indecent pictures were reflected in a mirror. The eye registers images on the imagination because that is the function of the eye; a mirror reflects objects because that is the function of a mirror. Neither case involves sin. Nor is it a sin for my mind to register the dirty, smutty remark, carried to it by my ears. I am not to blame any more than the wax disc of a dictaphone is to blame for the remarks registered on it. The wax disc commits no sin. Neither do my ear and my brain.

“But now my will enters in. My will can say. “I like these indecent pictures. I”m going to stand here and feast on them and excite myself emotionally.” Or my will can say, “Even though I feel powerfully attracted to these indecent pictures, I know it is wrong to continue to look at them, and I shall walk away.” In the first case I am consenting to sin. In the second case I have made the temptation an opportunity for virtue, and, far from committing sin, I am actually winning merit for heaven.

WHAT HAPPENED AFTER?

“What I saw, my eye’s reaction to what I saw, and the reaction of my brain-these in themselves were neither sinful nor sinless. They were automatic, without freedom. The action of my will AFTER these automatic processes was what mattered.

This same distinction holds with regard to thoughts that enter my mind. I do not have any real responsibility for their coming and their going.

“I am sitting in an automobile and looking out the window. Suddenly I realize that my mind is filled with indecent images. Is that sinful? No more sinful than if I had sneezed because specks of dust had blown into the car and into my nose. I am not responsible for the thoughts that came into my mind, as I would not have been responsible for the dust’s blowing into the car.

“Someone has done me an injury. Suddenly I find myself thinking, “I”d like to kill that person.” Is that a sin? Not yet. That’s just a thought that came to me without my desiring it. It is no more a sin than a cold in the head is a sin. “I hear a man say, “I don’t believe in God,” or “The Catholic Church is an evil institution.” That statement registers in my mind. . Am I guilty of heresy? No more than a dictaphone would be if the man spoke that phrase into it. I didn’t seek that thought; it came automatically. The fact that I have heard the statement and even reacted to it does not in any sense constitute a sin.

DISTINGUISH!

“I have found case after case where a person is scrupulous because he makes no distinction between thought, which is not free, and will, which is free. He believes that because he has seen or heard or thought something indecent, he has committed a sin. The fact of the matter is that sin is possible only when the will turns to that something and says, “I like this. I”m going to hold on to it.”

Is that condition of will ever present in scrupulous people? Never! That is why the matters about which they scruple are never sinful for them.”

“But,” I protested, “those people aren’t sure that they didn’t consent to the sight of the sound or the thought. Perhaps the thought was very attractive. Perhaps they really liked it. Perhaps it caused a pleasurable reaction. And then they became disturbed and worried. They don’t know whether or not they consented to the thought. And if they consented, it would, you see, be a serious sin.”

Father O”Boyle laughed.

NOT CERTAIN! NO CONSENT

“One really shouldn’t laugh at what is such a tragedy to well intentioned people, but the answer is really so terribly simple: If you are not certain about your consent, you do not consent. “In everything except scruples that distinction is easily seen,” he continued. “A man stands by while a murder is being committed. Believe me, he hasn’t the slightest doubt about whether or not he consented to that murder. You are the defendant in a trial; into the court is brought a contract. “Did you consent to this contract?” the judge asks you. You are sure, I”11 wager, whether or not you consented to it. A charming young man asks a girl for her hand. She does not go around asking herself,”Did I say yes or did I say no?” She is certain that she either rejected the young man or accepted him. And if she put him off, as perhaps she did, she knows that she did not accept him. And does the young man.

WHEN DOES SIN ENTER?

“Now comes the question of temptation to mortal sin. Let’s say that an indecent but attractive picture flashes through a man’s mind. Later, when he recalls having had that thought, he asks himself whether or not he consented to it.

“It is the clearest thing in the world; if he consented, he knows that he did, and that is all there is to it. Or let’s say that he fought it away and vigorously said no; then he knows for a certain that he did not consent to it. But if he remembered only that he was very confused and muddled and excited at the thought, that he liked the temptation and yet knew it was a sin, that he wanted to accept it and yet felt that he must not do so, that in the end his mind was spinning around in circles, what then?

“The answer is very clear -cut: If he is absolutely sure that he was not absolutely sure, then he was not sure at all. And if he was not sure whether or not he consented, then he didn’t consent.

“And the person with scruples just has to say, “If I am not absolutely sure whether or not I consented, I did not consent.””

LOOK OUT FOR THE LION!

I recall a comparison I have often used in dealing with scrupulous people. Mortal sin is something big and terrible, as terrible as a devouring lion; there is no mistake about it. Mortal sin does not creep up on one as would a gentle lamb shyly thrusting its cool nose into one’s hand.

So when someone comes to me and says: “I don’t know whether or not I have committed a mortal sin,” I counted with this parallel:- “Suppose a girl rushed into a classroom and cried out to the teacher and to the students, “Oh! As I was coming down the corridor. I think I ran smackbang into a roaring lion.” Some of the students might be a little excited for a moment. But most of them, the sensible ones, would laugh. And the teacher’s reply would be very definite: “My dear, if you only think you saw a lion, believe me, you didn’t see a lion. A roaring lion dashing along the corridor would be something absolutely unmistakable.””

And if a person only thinks that he has committed a mortal sin, only thinks that he has admitted the devil and the hosts of hell into his soul, then he didn’t commit a mortal sin. The devil, like a roaring lion that seeks whom it may devour, doesn’t creep quietly and unobtrusively into the soul. The soul immediately knows when it has admitted so terrible a thing as mortal sin.

I repeated Father O”Boyle’s phrase slowly.

“IF I AM NOT ABSOLUTELY CERTAIN WHETHER OR NOT I CONSENTED, I DID NOT CONSENT.” IF THERE IS ANY DOUBT ABOUT MORTAL SIN, THERE IS NO DOUBT; NO MORTAL SIN WAS COMMITTED.”

Father O”Boyle resumed.

“But I do wish people would clearly understand that a physical act, even an act of the mind or of the imagination, is neither right nor wrong unless we either want it and like it or don’t won’t it and don’t like it. An act without will is like the twitching of an eyelid or involuntary coughing. My mind and my imagination can be guilty of sin only when my will approves, accepts, and calls into action a sinful thought or image.”

“That should,” I suggested, “be relatively simple and clear.”

STUBBORN

“And so it should be,” said Father O”Boyle, “if it were not for the second factor to be considered in almost all cases of scrupulosity. Scrupulous people are terribly stubborn. They take the stand that they are right and you are wrong; they understand themselves better than you could ever understand them; their decision, though it be ever so crackbrained, is more reasonable and logical than your decision, than even the decision of God. And the truth of the matter is this: What they regard as decisions are really fears.

“It is startling how often good people, very good people, will cling to these absolutely false fears in spite of all argument and evidence to the contrary. Obstinacy is really the nurse and guardian of scrupulosity. And obstinacy is a hard, hard thing to deal with.

“A person who is suffering from scruples really has no conscience at all. Whoever he is, however brilliant or well educated, he has lost the power of judging his own case. He no longer knows right from wrong.

“In his calm moments he can see how utterly mad and stupid his scruples are; he can give the proper evaluation to the same scruples in someone else; he can even laugh at other peoples scruples.”

The man was convinced that his soul would be lost unless he weighed exactly two hundred and twenty pounds. As he was a man of rather slight build, he considered his chances of salvation pretty slim. His confessor decided to handle the case in this way: He said to the scrupulous man, “Suppose you heard a man say that he would be lost unless he could make his hair curl. What would you think?”

“I”d think that man was a little daft.”

“Suppose you heard a woman say that she would go to hell unless she grew to be seven feet tall?”

“I”d say she needed an analyst.”

“Suppose you heard a man claim that there was no hope of eternity for him unless he shrank to ninety-eight pounds?”

“He certainly needs a doctor and a priest.”

“Suppose a man told me that he was sure to lose his soul unless he weighed exactly two hundred and twenty pounds?”

The man hesitated.

“He would probably be a little mad. However”-he looked up slowly-”in my case, you see, it is a fact; I have to weigh two hundred and twenty pounds.”

FEAR

Father O”Boyle was right. The so-called decisions of scrupulous people are really fears. If it were only a matter of false judgement, ignorance, misinformation, or faulty reason, it would be relatively simple to handle. One can meet false judgements with correct judgements. One can erase ignorance with knowledge. One can cancel misinformation with actual facts, can beat down faulty reason with convincing reason. But when we are dealing with scruples, we are dealing with fear. The scrupulous person has no convictions; he has only fears. He doesn’t know with certainty; he only dreads. He has no reason for his fears, at least no reason that cannot be answered; but he shrinks in terror from some possibility or thought of course of action. He is afraid to make any decision. His life is one continuous jitters.

NOT ALONE

Helping a scrupulous person, then, means helping him to rid himself of his fears. And fear often arises from being alone. One is most afraid when one is alone. When a trusted friend enter the supposedly empty house with us, our fears vanishes. When we are walking alone along a dark street, we tremble at the sight of approaching figures, but if we are walking with a dear friend, someone in whom we have confidence, the approaching figures no longer terrify us.

I recalled a startling case of this kind. So the scrupulous person can conquer his fears through a trustworthy guide, a priest who is willing to laugh at the absurdity of his fears. Alone, a scrupulous person sees the world filled with perils. But when he comes to realize how full the world is with God’s love, how close is Christ, how dear is his soul to the Sacred Heart, and how trustworthy is the priest in whom he confides, fear vanishes, and most scruples vanish with that fear.

ALL MUDDLED

“Yes,” said Father O”Boyle, “it’s surprising how scrupulous people lose their ability to judge.I”ve known brilliant people who gave perfectly correct advice to others yet couldn’t decide for themselves the simplest matters of right and wrong.

“The fact is this: Whatever the type of scruples they have, scrupulous people must realize that they have no conscience in their own regard.”

“That.” I suggested, “puts them in a rather terrible situation, doesn’t it?”

“In a way, yes. Unless they clearly recognize that fact and substitute a correct conscience for their false one.

“Which conscience they are to get from a confessor. That is the one salvation for a scrupulous person. He must recognize the fact that for the time being he is incapable of judging his own conduct. He cannot distinguish between right and wrong in his own actions. He is so muddled and confused by the distress of his mind and his continual struggle to make decisions that he must receive some guidance.”

“He is a little like an aviator,” I suggested, “who suddenly realizes that his instrument board has failed him. The compass is spinning around madly. He doesn’t know north from south. He has only one way of getting his ship back to land.”

“Correct,” said Father O”Boyle “He has only one way of knowing north from south He has to find the radio beam that is sent out from the landing field. He has to clamp on his earphones and take his directions from the voice that comes to him out of the air. His instruments have betrayed him. If he follows them now, he is lost. . But if he follows the radio beam, if he obeys the message that comes to him over the wireless, even though he is flying through fog, he is safe.”

“He flies blind.” I suggested.

“Yes. And the scrupulous person, knowing clearly that the instruments which God gave him, his conscience, is for the time not normal, must fly blind too. He must listen to the voice that comes to him out of the air, the voice of his confessor. And though he flies through fog, so long as he obeys that voice and follows those directions he is absolutely sure of making a safe landing.”

HONEST ADMISSION

I was silent for a minute. After all, that seemed a great deal to ask of any person- the blind acceptance of someone else’s conscience for his own. I suggested this to Father O”Boyle.

“That is why a scrupulous person must be made to face calmly and honestly the fact that he is scrupulous,” Father O”Boyle answered. “When a confessor asks, as confessors will ask soon after a scrupulous person has begun his confession, “Are you scrupulous?” it would be well for the penitent to face the situation frankly and then accept the confessor’s diagnosis.

“No patient likes to be told that he has this problem when the doctor gives him such a diagnosis, he insists that he has no such disease. The patient’s cure begins when he faces the fact that he has the disease and meets the doctor with a trusting “All right, doctor. What do you think I ought to do?”

“So when the confessor says, “You are scrupulous,” the penitent would be wise to say simply, “I understand. I put myself In your hands. What do you think I ought to do?”

“From that point on the penitent must follow with implicit faith the prescriptions of the priest.

“That penitent has this great consolation: The priest is God’s representative in his regard. The voice of the priest is for him the voice of God. When the priest prescribes God approves. And the penitent has no further responsibility in this matter.

“More than that, if there were any error in the directions given by the priest, the responsibility would rest entirely with the priest; the penitent would in no way be to blame.”

“But.,” I objected, “wouldn’t that error implicate the penitent? If the priest gave him incorrect advice, the priest would be guilty of sin, and the scrupulous person would have been the occasion of that sin.”

TRAINED TO HANDLE SCRUPLES

Again Father O”Boyle laughed.

“That needn’t worry him at all. In the first place, the priest has been taught to handle scruples. It Is not very likely that he will advise the penitent to do what is wrong. And even if his advice were wrong, the priest would be giving that advice in the belief that it was right; God does not punish a man who has committed a wrong action if that man believed that his action was right. God will not allow the priest, who is taking His place in soothing the anguish of a troubled soul, to make mistakes.

“The scrupulous man and the scrupulous woman need only submit to the advice of the priest. Let the priest decide. Do what he tells you to do. His conscience is for the time your conscience. You can fly blind. God will bring you safely home.

“The very first thing a scrupulous person should do is decide on a spiritual adviser, a priest who is understanding yet firm. He should state his case as honestly as possible and then do just as the priest tells him to.”

“HE DOESN’T UNDERSTAND”

“That’s all fine,” I said; “but suppose the priest doesn’t understand? All scruples aren’t the same. And all scrupulous people aren’t the same. The problem of each is an annoying disease. But he’s a fool, if an individual one, and it requires a deal of careful explaining.”

Father O”Boyle smiled just a little wearily.

“You talk almost like a scrupulous person,” he said. “It’s odd, but scrupulous people are unconsciously and blamelessly a little conceited. Each one thinks his case is so terribly different from any other case; his problem is one that has never had a precedent; he will have to explain his case for hours before the priest will understand it.,”

“Well,” I demanded, “isn’t he right?”

“Ifthere is anything in the world that is stereotyped, it’s scruples. A few minutes of explanation tell me all I need to know about the most complicated case. And when I or any other experienced priest says to a scrupulous person I understand now. You’ve made it perfectly clear,” that person can be absolutely sure that I do understand and that nothing he could add would make his story any clearer.”

“So the sure cure for scruples is.”

“Obedience, obedience, and more obedience,” said Father O”Boyle. “Select a priest confessor, go to him , and do exactly what he tells you to do. That is the only cure. The scrupulous person must substitute the priest’s correct conscience for his own incorrect conscience. And he must do this even when he is afraid that the priest may be wrong.”

“Well,” I said, bringing this into the realm of the personal, “suppose a scrupulous person came to you. How would you proceed to cure him?”

CONSCIENCE GONE HAYWIRE

“First,” said Father O”Boyle, “I would explain to him why he must implicitly accept my conscience for his own. His conscience is absolutely wrong; in his calm moments he knows that; when he decides for others, those very decisions prove to him that his own attitude is incorrect. He must let my conscience substitute for his own

“Then he must come to Confession comparatively rarely. If he permits himself to be forever running to Confession, he will drive himself mad. God asks of a penitent only this: a decent effort to make a good confession. And I am the one to decide whether or not the confession is good.

“Between confessions, under no circumstances should he examine his conscience. He must tell himself, almost with a laugh, that he has no conscience to examine. He must fly blind.

“When he is in doubt about anything-is this right or wrong?-he must tell himself that it is right.”

GO AHEAD!

“Just a moment,” I interrupted. “Aren’t you going a bit too far? Suppose this penitent of yours has a chance to steal fifty dollars. Aren’t you practically telling him to take it and to tell himself that he is right in that action?”

Gesturing with the pipe, Father O”Boyle all but brushed the question aside.

“You didn’t listen very closely,” he said, smiling tolerantly. “Is it mortal sin to steal fifty dollars?”

“Under ordinary circumstances, yes.”

“Any doubt about it?”

“Certainly not.”

“Well, then,” said Father O”Boyle, “there’s no case for a scruple there. I can’t have a scruple about an external act that I know for certain is a sin. A person kills a man, robs a bank, burns a building; these are all clearly external, objective acts; I know for certain that they are evil.

“The scrupulous person becomes confused about things that happen within himself. He can’t decide whether or not he consented to a certain thought and whether he was right or wrong If he did consent. It is In such cases of doubt that he must tell himself that he Is right, that he has not committed a sin.”

“Am I supposed then, to give that advice to all my penitents?”

COMMUNION THE CURE

“Certainly not. That advice holds only for scrupulous people, who cannot resolve thei r doubts, whose inclination is to see sin where their is no sin. That advice is for them alone; to them alone I would say, “When in doubt, go ahead.”

“I see.”

“Then I would advise them to go to Holy Communion regularly.”

“Even when they think that they may have mortal sin on their soul? Even when they are afraid they have broken their fast or caused others to sin seriously?”

“Exactly. Under all those circumstances they are to receive Holy Communion.”

Father O”Boyle looked a little wistful. “If scrupulous people would only do that much, would receive Holy Communion no matter how they feel, half their struggle would be over, and their cure would be at least half accomplished, But they, who need the divine physician so badly, stay away from Him. And He, who loves to help them, cannot reach out and give them the help they need so badly. Holy Communion under all circumstances, however great their trouble and worry and doubt- that’s the great forward step towards the cure of scrupulous persons.

SO GOOD!

“I’ve known literally thousands of scrupulous people,” he continued, “and their predominant characteristic is their virtue. They lead sinless lives. In fact, it is their very dread of sin that makes them struggle against even the suggestion of sin and quail in terror at even the thought of temptation; it is this overdrawn dread that gives them scruples. They have thrown up around themselves barriers so strong that sin cannot possibly get through to capture their souls. I find that in case after case people who are scrupulous have never committed a mortal sin. They have led stainless lives. And yet they torment themselves needlessly, pitifully, horribly.

“I want to say to every scrupulous soul in the world: “Do you think you would be scrupulous if you were not trying so very hard to please God? Do you think that you could dread sin so much if you were not in God’s grace? This fear that you have of sin is your greatest assurance that there is no sin in your life. You’d not hate sin this way if you were sinful. You hate It because you are sinless. You worry about it because you want to be good. You are scrupulous simply because you are so terribly afraid of losing your own soul and the love of God.

CONVINCED THEY’RE NOT

“I have never met a really scrupulous person who was not a very good person.

“But alas! You can’t convince them of their goodness. They consider themselves the lowest sinners. And when you try to tell them that they are good, they answer, “That may be true in someone else’s case, but it’s not true in mine.” You see, even there they can’t depend on their own conscience.

“Certainly God meant them to be happy. They deserve happiness. Why should an absolutely false view of life come between them and their joy of living?

“And it is a false view. They live in constant fear that they are going to sin or that they have already sinned. I want to make them see that that very fear is the guarantee of their sinlessness.

“FORCED TO SIN”

“They feel that they are physically forced to sin, that they are not free. “Forced to sin,” “not free”-those very terms are contradictory. If a man is forced to sin, he is not guilty of that sin, He can sin only by freely choosing to sin. If it is pressure that drives him to sin, he is not guilty. A murderer forces a dagger into my hand and forces me to kill someone. Though the blood spurt upon my hands, I am still guiltless. Similarly, the very fact that I am forced to register an indecent thought is no sign that I am guilty.

“Scrupulous people become over-excited about their temptations, temptations which come to every man and woman. Every normal man and woman has thoughts of impurity; every human imagination is subject to images, like motion and sometimes vile. We are no more responsible for those images than is the silver screen on which the operator throws a picture. And so long as we do not want these images and do not accept them, we are as guiltless as is a sheet of silverstained canvas.

“The scrupulous person simply thinks that he is unique. He fails to distinguish between temptation and sin. He cannot be made to realize that everyone has such temptations, that the greatest saints who ever lived had them, that temptations are merely signs that a normal adult is part animal and part angel. Scrupulous people torment themselves about things which are no more sinful than a cold in the head. How sad that such good people should permit themselves to be needlessly and continuously unhappy!”

“Would you mind,” 1 asked, “summarizing all this? I think it would be simpler if the whole matter were reduced to a sort of synopsis.”

IN BRIEF

And here is the synopsis:

“America is, perhaps because of the nervous American way of living, filled with scrupulous people. “Scruples may take various forms; some are natural scruples, such as the fear of dirt or sickness.

“A delicate conscience knows the distinction between good and evil; a scrupulous conscience is mistaken in its judgements on good and evil. Though scruples take many forms, they are all fundamentally the same. Each scrupulous person is persuaded that he is unique. But he is not. He is like every other scrupulous person.”

“Fundamentally they all fail to distinguish between temptation and consent. They do not see that the senses and the imagination and the intellect are not free. What happens through sight or hearing or imagination or thinking is often quite beyond control. Actions become good or bad only when our will enters in and we accept or reject, approve or disapprove, cling to or throw aside.”

And Then—“If there is any doubt about consent, if we are not absolutely sure whether or not we consented, we did not consent. “People with scruples are incapable of judging their own cases; it is as if they had no conscience at all. “Hence they must accept the conscience of a priest director. Obeying his voice, which is in their regard the voice of

God, they must fly blind. They must realize that their cure can come only through obedience, obedience and more obedience.

“They must go to Confession seldom; between confessions they must not examine their conscience; they must go to

Holy Communion even when they are in doubt about mortal sin on their souls.

“If they are physically run-down or nervous, they should consult a good doctor.

“Their scrupulosity should be, not a source of unhappiness, but a kind of guarantee that they are in God’s grace .They would not be worried about sinif they did not hate sin. They would not be so anxious to stay in God’s grace if they were not safe in their love of God.

“God wants them to be happy. And if they go to Him humbly in Holy Communion, He will give them the happiness they deserve.”

HE LOVES US

That concluded our interview. Father O”Boyle returned to his classes of young Jesuits, his stacks of correspondence on moral problems, and the countless people who come to him for help.

Yet In his last comment was a thought that should be a great source of consolation to any man and any woman suffering from scruples. God wants them to be happy.

That really says it all. God,. our God, is not the ancient Jewish God of wrath and vengeance; our God is our Father who is in heaven; He is the Christ who loved us from the mount of Calvary and awaits and watches among us in the tabernacle of the altar; He is the Holy Spirit, who chose as His favourite dwelling place the hearts and souls of His creatures.

God wants for us far, far more happiness than we could desire for ourselves. Christ piled parable on parable in His effort to persuade us of His love and His desire and His ceaseless quest for souls. He was Christ, the father of the prodigal son; Christ, the Good Shepherd; Christ, searching for the lost piece of silver; Christ, the Good Samaritan; Christ, who on earth lived to the full His own test of love, for He laid down His life for His friends.

Our God is the God who welcomed back the repentant Peter and gave him the great triple opportunity to wipe out his triple denial by a triple assertion of love. He is the God who lifted the sinful Magdalen from her sin and transported her from her cheap, sinful loves to the ecstasy of a love that was divine.

He wants us much more than we want Him. He has done everything to convince us of His mercy, which is above all His works, and of his love, that surpasseth understanding, and of His forgiveness, that could reach out to a thief upon the cross and to an Apostle, the chief of His chosen few, who denied Him in His hour of need.

IF PETER HAD SCRUPLES

But can you imagine Peter, after Christ had forgiven him, running about in feverish and perturbed fashion and saying: “I wonder if I made it clear to Christ. I wonder if He understood me when I said I love Him. Maybe He didn’t really forgive me. Maybe I wasn’t sorry enough. Maybe my Confession was not complete?”

Wouldn’t we feel that Christ would have been justified in being a little annoyed, to use a very human word, by the fact that Peter simply refused to be persuaded? Christ would necessarily have been hurt had Peter said: “Lord I really am not sure that you love me enough to forgive.”

Yet a scrupulous soul runs around In precisely that sort -of fashion, questioning, rehearsing, repeating, asking Christ again and again for assurances and reassurances, in a sense doubting Christ, who is far, far more eager to forgive than we are to be forgiven.

Magdalen

And you can imagine Magdalen, after Christ had lifted her to her feet, getting a bad attack of scruples? Can you fancy her saying: “I”m not sure whether or not Christ understood all the details of my sin. Perhaps I didn’t make them clear to Him. I wonder whether I expressed my love clearly enough?” And then can you fancy her dashing off to Peter and asking him to hear her Confession? Can you imagine her going over the same story again and again and begging to be reassured that Peter understood? Can you see her not satisfied with that and hurrying off to go to Confession to John? And can you see her answering John’s “You don’t need to go into details, Mary; I really understand,” with “No, he doesn’t understand; I”d better go and confess to James or maybe to Philip”?

Itall sounds so absurd, doesn’t it, But scruples are absurd, just as absurd in any of us, God’s children, as they would have been in those other children of God, Peter or Magdalen.

Christ is never annoyed with us. But if He could be annoyed, I think He would be annoyed with those of us who doubt His love and His willingness to forgive. And we do doubt those lovely and unmistakable qualities in the tender Christ when we cling to false conscience, torture our souls with the senseless torment of scruples, and bring misery to our souls, which Christ intended to be even happy in this world.

Nihil Obstat:

J. DONOVAN, Censor Deputatus,

Imprimatur:

@ D. MANNIX,

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis.

********

Are You Sincere?

A LAWYER, PROFESSOR, PRIEST AND MERCHANT ENGAGE IN PLAIN TALK ON RELIGION

INDEX

Professor: “It is curious how widely men differ in their religious beliefs; but this is not perhaps to be regretted, for, after all, it is a matter of no importance what a man believes if only he be sincere.”

Lawyer:”So says the poet, too, and I agree with him:

“For forms of faith let graceless zealots fight.

He can’t be wrong whose heart is in the right.”

Priest:”Allow me to say that, while I agree with you in prizing sincerity very highly, at the same time it seems to me you put a pretty low estimate on truth.”

Professor:”How so? We do not undervalue the excellence of truth.”

Priest:”It seems to me you do; for, if it be a matter of no importance what a man believes, then, whether a man is a pagan, Jew, Turk. or Christian, it is all the same, provided he is only sincere, On your theory all religions are equally good, for sincerity is the important thing, not truth, and therefore Christ’s death, for the conversion of the Jews and the Gentiles to Christianity, was a mistake!”

Professor:”Why! What would you have more than a pure and honest love of truth?”

Priest:”Truth itself! Because truth is to the mind what light is to the eye. Deprive the eye of light, and soon it becomes weak, falls into decay, and is rendered useless- useless as the eyes of the fish found in Mammouth Cave of Kentucky, where the light never penetrates. Deprive the mind of truth, and it becomes feeble, imbecile, dies, great as your sincerity may be. The mind was made for truth. Knowledge of truth is the life of the mind.”

Professor: “But if a man is sincere he will seek earnestly for the truth.”

Priest:”Grant it; so will a man who is hungry seek earnestly after food to eat. But hunger is not food, neither is sincerity truth. To say that it is of no consequence what a man believes, if he only be sincere, is as absurd as to say it is no matter whether a man has anything to eat provided only he has got a keen appetite!”

Merchant:”You will, however, admit that a man may be in error and yet sincere?”

Priest:”That is possible; but I do not admit that a man’s being in error, though sincere, is of no consequence. For if you give to the stomach bad or poisonous food, dyspepsia will soon overtake the man, it matters not how great his hunger. You give to the mind error and falsehood to feed on, and scepticism and doubt will soon appear, and despair or suicide willsoon close up the account, it matters not how great a man s sincerity may be.”

Professor:”At any rate, if a man is really sincere he will find the truth; you won’t deny that sincerity is the way to truth?”

Priest:”Certainly not; but the way to a thing and the thing itself are not the same, or to be esteemed the same. Do not confound sincerity with truth.”

Lawyer:”That’s so. Gold is a mighty good thing to have, but a trip to the gold mines, and the digging for gold, is no joke.”

Priest:”Just so. The gold we seek is truth; sincerity is not truth, but is the way to truth, and is to be esteemed only in view of truth.”

Merchant:”I never saw things in that light before! I have heard so much about sincerity that I have taken it for granted it is all one needsto care about.”

Priest:”That is the popular error. He who is content with sincerity without truth, is as foolish as one who has, made the journey to the gold mines for gold, comes home without any, and fancies himself satisfied.”

Merchant:”If sincerity is not truth, and never can stand in the place of truth, then the question what a man believes is, after all, rather a serious one, I fancy.”

Priest:”Of course it is; it is a question which will have rather a serious settlement one day.”

Professor:”Will you admit the promise, that he who hungers after righteousness shall be filled?”

Priest:”Not only will I admit this promise, for it was made by Christ, but I most sincerely believe in its fulfilment. Pray, tell me, Professor, what is it to hunger after truth?”

Professor:”Why it means to desire it earnestly, and to seek it with all sincerity.”

Priest:”But a man who neglects to inform himself of the truth, or neglects, when informed, to follow his convictions, can he be said to hunger after righteousness?”

Professor:”Of course not. but I believe most men seek after truth sincerely.”

Priest:”I share that opinion with you. However, I cannot shut my eyes to the fact that there are not a few who profess to be sincere and are not.”

Professor:”What sort of people do you mean?”

Priest:”Well, for example, there’s our friend A. His neighbour, a Unitarian, makes him a visit. He rejects the divinity of Christ, and calls the religion of millions of Christians, for nineteen centuries, “a remnant ofidolatry,” and A. has not a word of contradiction to offer.

“On his way to his place of business he meets an old friend, a Trinitarian, and is ready to agree with him that his belief in the divinity of Christ is the corner-stone of Christianity, and it is unworthy of an honest man to call himself a Christian and deny it.

“Another time he gets into conversation with a Quaker friend, who tells him that religion is entirely an affair between God and the soul. Christianity is exclusively spiritual, and that a priesthood, sacraments, ceremonies, are Jewish ordinances and mummeries, and he is inclined to think that quite an enlightened view of religion.

“Now he meets a high-church Episcopalian, who assures him that Christianity without a church, a priesthood, sacraments. and a ceremonial, is at best only a dream, and he begins to think of taking a pew in an Episcopal church.

“At an evening party he finds himself in company with infidels; they declare that all religion is an invention of priest- craft to keep men in darkness and to tyrannise over them, and by his silence he seems to assent to what they say.

“One morning, on his way to his bank, his friend, a Presbyterian or Methodist, gets him by the button-hole of his coat, and drags him off to a prayer-meeting. This man, on the theory that all religions are equally good if only one is sincere in his belief, cares not a toss of a penny for truth.

“Here is B., who is a faithful husband, a kind father, a warm friend, and an upright man in his dealings with his fellowmen. He is a man of good intentions, generous impulses, and a worthy citizen. “His heart,” as you would say, “is in the right place.” He wrongs no one. I retract; he does wrong, a grievous wrong, to himself, to his own soul. For what does he know of the great truths of divine revelation, and their claims upon his intelligence for recognition and belief? What does he know of the positive duties which he owes to his Creator and God? Scarcely anything.

“You can hardly say that this man is sincere. So far as he goes he is sincere, but his sincerity only goes half-way; it includes only his relations with this world. Let me ask what will it profit a man if he lives ever so well in the round of duties connected with this world, if he does not open his eyes to the next? Men do not perish when they die, like the beasts of the field.

“I said he wronged no one but himself-this was a mistake; he wrongs his wife, his children, his friends, his neighbours; he wrongs everybody, for to be a man and to be satisfied with a vague sentiment of religion, and not to have true personal relations with God; to inherit and enjoy the benefits of Christian civilisation and not share its duties and labour for its perpetuation and perfection; briefly, to be a man and not a Christian is a wrong to one’s own soul, to all society, the race, and to God!

“There is C., who has given some serious thoughts to religion. He has some doubts concerning some of its doctrines. He promised himself on his sick-bed, or at the death of a child, or a friend, or a parent, or a wife, that he would give to the subject the time and attention which its importance demands, and clear up his doubts. He has made some efforts to keep it. Books were bought, but there they lie on the table, or in his book-case, with their leaves uncut; he remains in ignorance and doubt, and probably will die so. He persuades himself he is sincere all the time, but never puts his sincerity to any use.

“There, too, is D., who is a great reader of the Bible; he knows its contents almost all by heart, and should you doubt the sincerity of his belief it would be taken as a gross insult to his Christian character.

“On the one side he reads of the humanity of Christ, and he accepts it; and, on the other, he reads of the divinity of Christ, and this he rejects. He finds in it that there is a heaven for the just, and he rejoices; and at the same time he reads that there is a hell for the unjust, and this he explains clean away. He learns by its pages that faith is necessary to salvation, and this becomes an article of his creed; while, in the same book, he is told that good works are equally necessary, and he calls them “filthy rags.” He reads that Christ pardoned sinners their sins, and feels consoled by it; and he reads also that Christ gave the power to pardon sins to His apostles, and he exclaims: “Oh, we do not interpret that text as you do!” Does not all this mean that our friend D. sincerely believes what pleases him best, and not the truths God has revealed in Holy Writ?”

Merchant: “Now that you bring it to my mind, it seems to me I have heard a good many persons talk just as you have described.”

Priest:”Of course you have. Now, let me call your attention to the fact that all men who talk and think in this way make God a horrid monster. Is it not monstrous to give us minds that hunger for the truths, and then to be utterly careless whether we hold to truth or falsehood, whether our minds are benighted and besotted, or clear and sparkling with gems of thought?

“Such a God would be like a parent who, being himself endowed with learning and advanced in culture, would let his children grow up in barbarous ignorance, not caring whether they spoke gibberish or spoke anything; or, like a father who would deliberately leave his tender little ones to wallow among swine and wander in wild wastes, unfed, unkempt, like the wild beasts.”

“No comparison, indeed, is strong enough to show the folly of such a notion of God. He Who is truth itself, like the sunlight, longs to illumine every eye, to shine in every mind, to in part to every soul His own mental image; to brighten and burnish that mirror, to keep it undimmed and untarnished, to see Himself reflected there, and to sport with it in the intellectual delights of wisdom. Indifference to religious truth is the foulest, basest weakness of a fallen and corrupt nature.”

Lawyer:”I confess I never quite saw it in that way before, but your clear explanation makes me realise that indifference us criminal.”

Priest:”Yes, and you realise that more clearly still in its consequences.

“There is our friend E.; he stoutly maintains that the Catholic Church is the old woman in scarlet, that the Pope is anti- Christ, that Catholics pay their priests for the pardon of their sins, give divine worship to the Blessed Virgin, the saints, and their relics; that an indulgence is a permission to commit sin, and the Pope has declared the Blessed Virgin equal to God!”

Merchant:”That’s true, sir, every word of it; you have photographed my neighbour to a T.”

Priest:”Now, your neighbour, will he listen to the refutation of the calumnies he has always been so ready to believe? Has he ever read a Catholic book to be rightly informed? Is he willing to do so?”

Merchant:”Catch him reading a Catholic book! The other day he heard that a friend of his had joined the Catholic Church, and he tried to convince him of the errors of Popery, as he called it. I was present. He thought he would have an easy time of it; but, in the course of the discussion, he got the worse of it. But that did not hinder him from repeating afterward the same old story again.”

“In spite of the fact that his boy wrote to him from the Philippines to say how large and handsome the churches are, how devout the people, how modest the women, in spite of the good work he sees Catholics doing everywhere, in their schools and hospitals and asylums, he persists in thinking that figs and cherries grow on the thistle and the cactus plant.”

Lawyer:”Father, it seems to me you can strengthen your argument in this way. A man is sincere when he carries a counterfeit note to the bank, but that does not give value to the note. The farmer who purchases a piece of shoddy goods is sincere in his desire to please his wife, Sarah, but his sincerity does not change shoddy goods to silk. The sick man who buys a quack remedy is sincere, but that does not impart curative properties to the molasses and water he has paid 50 cents for. You have made me realise that there is question of getting a coin of true value, cloth of sound quality and medicine that will cure of itself. Is not this what you Catholics contend for?”

Priest:”Precisely so. Let me add another illustration or two.

“Ten men are shooting at a covey of birds. Only one has his gun loaded with bird shot. Ten men propose to put a bridge across a canyon, only one has iron and wood, the rest have straw and wire. Ten men promise to guide you across an unknown continent. Only one has a complete map.

“These examples teach the state of the case. It is at first like a puzzle picture: Find the man whose gun is properly loaded, who has the iron girders, who holds the map in his hand. All pretend to be huntsmen, bridge builders, guides. Only one really is.

“There must be ways and means of telling the truth from the false, and every honest and sincere man must study out the puzzle for himself. If he does not take pains to do so his sincerity is all sham.”

“Where, then, is there that pure love of truth in these sincere believers? Give me a man truly sincere, and you will find him not indifferent to the claims of truth, or shutting out the light of truth, or hugging error to escape the force of truth; but one open to conviction, earnest in search after truth, not content until he finds it, and, when found, embracing it, cost what it may, with his whole heart. Away with that sham and cant, which under the cloak of sincerity puts truth and error on the same footing, and makes the possession of truth a matter of no consequence!”

Professor:”Do I understand you, sir, to say that the Catholic Church invites inquiry?”

Priest:”That is precisely my meaning; and all that the Catholic Church fears is ignorance and the want of fidelity to truth when once known; in a word, the lack of sincerity where she is concerned.”

Nihil obstat:

FRANCISCUS MOYNIHAN, Censor Deputatus.

Imprimi Potest:

@ D. MANNIX,

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis.

********

Arnold Janssen’s Great Enterprise

REV. J. BRODERICK, S. J

INDEX

The Society of the Divine Word -S.V.D. for short, Societas Verbi Divini-the youngest of the religious congregations properly so called devoted to the Foreign Missions, has recently completed its first three score years and ten. The way in which the Society acquired its title is something of a romance in itself. The letters S.V.D. do not correspond so much with the famous and familiar ones, OP., as with the also fairly familiar initials, S.J., for the Verbum Divinum of the title does not stand for the Gospel but for Him who brought us the Gospel, Jesus Christ our Lord, the second Person of the Blessed Trinity. This is how the title came into existence. At Goch, a luckless Catholic frontier town of north-western Germany, which, after being pillaged regularly by contending armies ever since the Middle Ages, was wiped off the map altogether in the spring of 1945, there lived a hundred years ago a small farmer and his wife, Gerard and Anna Janssen. They were peasants and neither of them had received any formal education worth speaking of, except the power to read, write and keep their modest accounts. But Gerard Janssen was a working farmer of a very unusual type, and heavens, how he worked [-not only following the plough during the day, but plodding in the dark hours as a carter between Goch and Nijmegen. When storms or frost threatened his scanty, hardearned crops, and so the lives of his eight children, he did not call upon the local good fairies to help him nor even invoke the saints. He lit a blessed candle, fell upon his knees, and cried to Heaven in a loud voice: “In the beginning was the Word and the Word was with God and the Word was God,” down to the conclusion of the great opening verses of St. John. So deeply was he attached to this sublimest passage of the Gospels that he recited it every night after the long family prayers, and would often alarm the attendant crows and seagulls by bursting into it while he ploughed. He used to tell his children that it was “a strong prayer and had great power with God.” One of them, Arnold, never forgot his father’s devotion, and so the world-wide Society which he founded came by its title out of the heart of a common carter and ploughman. If that is not heavenly romance, what is? When now in every continent and country the Fathers of the Society of the Divine Word take or renew their religious vows, they begin by chanting, lighted candles in their hands just like Farmer Janssen long ago,”In principio erat Verbum et Verbum erat apud. . . . . . .

Another item about the forgotten carter of Goch may be mentioned before we come to his son, who reproduced so much of him and stamped it on his own sons. He had an extraordinary devotion to the Holy Ghost and heard Mass every Monday of his life in honour of the third Divine Person. He never tired of talking to his children about this devotion. “He described to us,” wrote his son William, later Brother Juniper among the Capuchins, “how the Holy Ghost brings peace to souls and families, fills the heart with joy in the service of God and moves it to every good deed, just as He blesses the fields and meadows. We children looked up to Father in wonderment when thus he taught and exhorted us to venerate the Holy Ghost.” Ever since its foundation devotion to the Holy Ghost has been one of the wellsprings of the Society of the Divine Word’s missionary activities, a well which the patriarchal farmer of Goch gave to it, “and drank thereof himself and his children.” In all houses of the Society the third Monday of each month is specially consecrated to the worship of the Holy Ghost, and by a rare Papal privilege the priests on that day say the Mass de Spiritu Sancto with Gloria and Credo, all doubles and major doubles to the contrary notwithstanding.

Joannes” wife, Anna, was his born helpmate, the Mueller forties of Proverbs down to the last jot and tittle. On one occasion her growing boys teased her by saying, “Mother, if you pray any longer you will pray yourself clean through Heaven!” She retorted: “If one has eight children like you to care for the only thing to be done is to pray.” Once, the whole family had to go to the fields very early in the morning, leaving Anna all alone to do the housework. At dinner her husband remarked that he was sure she must have missed daily Mass for once in a way, with all that work on her hands. “How can you talk like that, Father?” she replied. “Do you think I could have got through everything without going to Mass?” Is one wrong in finding something sublime, indeed a whole philosophy of the Christian life, in the answer of this simple peasant woman?

If Arnold inherited so much of his soul’s furniture from his father, he borrowed his powerful head from his mother. A splendid photograph taken of him shortly before his death in 1909 shows the same broad sweep of brow, piercing eyes, fine nose, and formidable chin as appear in his mother’s picture. Anyone looking at the photograph attentively would not need to be told that he stood in the presence of greatness, but a benign greatness, transfused by some inner radiance. There is a look in his eyes such as Raphael gave to his Sistine Madonna, but he is smiling, too, and that is more than Raphael was able to make his Madonna do. Serenity, perhaps, is the word which best describes all the features of this wonderful face, the serenity of a peace bought at the price of terrible suffering,

EARLY PREPARATION

It would take too long to describe all the shifts and devices whereby Arnold, who like his brothers seemed predestined to the plough, achieved an education. He even worked his way to the University of Bonn, where, after two years” fierce application, he obtained a faculty to teach in the highly organised and efficient State schools mathematics, physics, mineralogy, botany, zoology. chemistry. So far science had very definitely frowned upon his humble birth! But his attachment to it was more a matter of religion than of temperament. He took his degree in the year when The Origin of Species burst like an atomic bomb upon the drowsing world, and he foresaw a great decline of faith as a result of rampant evolutionism. Soon, the Haeckels, Buchners, Huxleys, Tyndalls, and other campfollowers of the great and sober Darwin would be gleefully announcing the final liquidation of Christianity. Arnold Janssen felt that Catholics, and especially priests, must be prepared to fight it out with those trumpeters of atheism on their own ground, and so he gave himself heart and soul to the sciences. He won a prize of fifty thalers (about £10) for an essay in higher mathematics and characteristically “blew” this untold wealth by bringing his rustic old father to Bonn and giving him a great time. It was the biggest adventure of Farmer Janssen’s life, and Magellan himself could not have been more excited by his voyage round the world. Afterwards, Arnold, then twenty-two, received an offer of a teaching post m Berlin at the handsome salary of eight hundred thalers a year. Here was fortune indeed, but he turned from it without a second thought because he had his mind set on being a priest. He was ordained at the diocesan seminary of Munster on the feast of the Assumption, 1862. and then sent to teach, mostly mathematics, at a local Catholic college of no great reputation. There he remained, the hidden and contented slave of the blackboard, for twelve solid years, though he could not prevent himself from dreaming apostolic dreams. At weekends he functioned cheerfully as a heavily burdened curate in the parish church of Bocholt. It will be a consolation to some of us to know that this great man, in spite of the most earnest and persevering endeavours, could never learn to sing two consecutive notes correctly. Why does Holy Church assume that all her priests must be skylarks when she does not expect them to be fine painters, sculptors, poets, county cricketers, or any other thing dependent on inherited ability? The biggest concession that Arnold Janssen found himself ever able to make to the music in front of him was to raise or bow his head according as the notes went up or down. Otherwise much the same sort of noises came from his lips, whatever the music. Once, in an emergency, he was persuaded to take the part of celebrant at a High Mass, but with such terrible result that he never received another invitation, and remained a perpetual sub-deacon on those occasions. It does not much matter what sounds a sub-deacon emits.

ZEAL FOR SOULS

In 1867 the Jesuit director of the Apostleship of Prayer for Germany and Austria, who knew Father Janssen and the metal of which he was forged, asked him to become the local promoter of the good work in the diocese of Munster, where it was practically unknown. He accepted with enthusiasm, and it may safely be said that never since the foundation of the Apostleship in 1844 has it known a more devoted or hard-working friend. No more holidays for Arnold Janssen after this call, for he spent them tramping the large diocese from end to end until hardly a parish within its confines remained without a branch of the Apostleship. The labour was a kind of novitiate for him, rendering his thoughts and aspirations world-wide, and his happy position with his boys no longer endurable. He begged to be released from the pleasant service of the sciences, and set out into the wilds, a penniless and lonely crusader, to try to undo the evil work of the Reformation. The Bishop of Paderborn encouraged him with words that have lost nothing of their point today: “If we had prayed as much for Protestant Germany as we have railed against it, it would have become Catholic long ago.” At Kempen, the native place of the man who composed or, at any rate, compiled the Imitation of Christ, some good nuns gave the homeless priest a roof over his head in return for his services as their chaplain. There, with a few hard-earned or borrowed thalers as his capital, he started a tiny eight-page religious magazine which he called the Little Messenger of the Sacred Heart. and devoted entirely to the promotion of prayer among Catholics for the conversion of their separated brethren and of the heathen in missionary lands. He was himself the only contributor to the magazine, and when it returned from the press it was he who put the hundreds of copies in their wrappers and addressed them to his subscribers.

Janssen’s feet never travelled very far, but from the day of his ordination his heart began to go the rounds of the world. Even as a child he had been taught to think in terms of human beings rather than of nations or races. During the Irish Famine his father had added an Father to the already terribly long night-prayers of the family for the starving people. When Arnold’s brother William led the prayers he used sometimes to try to dodge this extra straw on the camel’s back, but never succeeded, because his father would at once notice the omission and say: “Willie, the Pater Noster for Ireland, please.” The elder Janssen’s favourite light reading in spare moments had been the Annals 0f the Propagation of the Faith-another straw, if you like, not on the camel’s back but in the wind, the Pentecostal wind which was to blow with such mighty power in Arnold’s soul.

The Little Messenger of the Sacred Heart began its humble existence in the worst days of the Kulturkampf, that much more violent if less insidious onslaught on the Church in Germany than the later one which took its inspiration from the lurid pages of Mein Kampf. All the teaching Orders and Congregations, the Jesuits de more in the vanguard, were banished from the country and their property confiscated. The Archbishops of Cologne and Trier and the Cardinal Archbishop of Breslau were cast into the common gaols, as were an equal number of Bishops, including the Bishop of Munster, and scores of secular priests, until the number of orphaned parishes, deprived of Mass and sacraments, had reached a thousand.

A CHALLENGE

It was in this their darkest hour, when religion at home seemed on the brink of destruction, that Arnold Janssen issued a strange challenge to the Catholics of Germany. He summoned them to forget their own sorrows and to think of China, the great land of the hopes and sorrows ofJesus.” He had no money, no influence, no health, no administrative experience, nothing at all, in fact, except a large fund of faith, hope and charity. He knew his own limitations better than any of his critics and he did not at all envision himself as the founder of a great new missionary movement in Germany, but only as its humble advocate and promoter through the pages of his little magazine He had to do his begging at a time when the spare thalers of priests and people alike were being steadily collected as fines by the minions of the Iron Chancellor. It was only when he failed to persuade others, with much better qualifications to found the seminary that he decided in a spirit of utter self-abnegation to take the burden on his own feeble shoulders, braving the smiling and frowns which he knew would be his portion. His first appeal to the young priests and prospective priests of Germany, whom the Falk Laws had debarred from exercising their functions at home, met with no response whatever. He begged them for the love of the Sacred Heart of Jesus, the Redeemer of all men, be they black or white, yellow or red of skin, to remove the reproach of their Fatherland, which alone of the nations with a large Catholic population did next to nothing for the foreign missions. Even England, where Catholics were so few and poor, had already its Mill Hill. True the German Church was passing through its Gethsemane, but surely the way to win the pity of God upon its desolation was the old, tried, never-failing way of sacrifice. Let them cast their bread upon the waters, upon the Seven Seas of the world, and seek the salvation of Germany in Paraguay, Japan and Sinkiang. The appeal, repeated again and again, seemed as if spoken into the void, for not a single priest or student came forward.

A FOOL FOR A SAINT

It looked as if the plough of his fathers had caught up with poor dreaming Janssen, for here he was, month after month, ploughing the sands. Meantime he prayed, and howhe prayed! “From the garden of my parents” house,” wrote a witness, “we could look into Father Janssen’s room. Whenever he forgot to pull down the blinds after lighting his lamp, we could easily see what he was doing. Thus it often happened that our father said to us: “Children, come into the garden-I want to show you how a saint prays.” Then we would see Father Janssen kneeling in his room like the statue of a saint, motionless and absorbed in God. He would remain in this attitude for hours on end.” He peddled his dreams through much of Germany and then on into Luxembourg and Belgium, with little result except kind words from harassed prelates who recognised his goodness but rather doubted his sanity. Charging windmills might be considered a safe and harmless occupation compared with this crazy idea of starting a brand new seminary for the conversion of the heathen in the midst of the Kulturkampf. As Archbishop Melchers of Cologne said with some asperity when he heard of the scheme, there were heathens enough right under his nose on the banks of the Rhine if he wanted to try his hand as an apostle. Janssen approached this brave and venerable prelate, one of the stalwarts of the Catholic resistance, shortly after his release from five months” rigorous confinement in a Cologne gaol. Timidly he outlined his plan, whereupon the old man replied, shaking his head and lost in astonishment: “We are living in a time when everything is tottering and threatening to collapse, and now you come and want to build up something entirely new.” Another Bishop to whom he turned his weary steps gave him some encouragement at the moment, but remarked a few days later to one of his priests: “You know Janssen of Kempen. He has called on me. He wants to build a seminary for the foreign missions and he hasn’t tuppence to his name. The man is either a fool or a saint.”

STORMY WEATHER

If the doubters had studied Janssen’s chin more carefully, they might have been less confident that he was chasing the rainbow. A windfall in the shape of two donations amounting to 15,000 marks, one from a convent of Poor dares and the other from a servant girl, determined the obstinate Quixote of the missions, whose trust in God was absolutely sublime, to present his critics with a fait accompli. He would buy a house in Holland just over the frontier so as to escape theattentions of Herr Falk’s watchful policemen, and then see what happened. To his immense relief, a priest and two young students, Dutch, Austrian and German respectively, joined him at the eleventh hour, and then, on August 4, 1875, this oddly assorted quartette became the proud owners of a derelict tavern with an old barn attached, in the little village of Steyl, near Venloo, on the banks of the Maas. All Father Janssen’s money went in the purchase, so he had a roof and four bare walls to shelter his three recruits, but no crockery, no cooking utensils, no beds, absolutely nothing else, no tables or chairs, no larder. Only the occasional alms which the Little Messenger of the Sacred Heart brought in stood between the four and starvation, or so, anyhow, it seemed. This was poverty in the grand manner, and Arnold Janssen definitely loved it. Long before he crossed his Rubicon of the Maas his patched and threadbare cassock and dilapidated hat had been a standing joke among his clerical brethren. To give him money for a new hat was merely to put it into the grimy fist of the first beggar he met. The bareness of St. Michael’s Mission House at Steyl was somewhat relieved by the arrival of a master carpenter with missionary aspirations, and the food situation improved when Brother Juniper, O.F.M. Cap., the former unartful dodger of the Pater Noster for Ireland, who was a master outdoorcollector, came to St. Michael’s as a refugee from Germany. But as material conditions grew better relations between Janssen and his three disciples degenerated. They did not see eye to eye with their leader, and indeed refused to recognise him as such, though they had voted him into power, and his position as rector had been duly approved by his ordinary, the Bishop of Roermond. Janssen wanted them to adopt the severe rule of the Dominican tertiaries, and also clung tenaciously to two other ideas, that, with the missions in view and likewise with half an eye on Darwin and Co., they should make the study of such sciences as ethnology and anthropology a special aim of their vocation, and that in non-missionary lands they would help the parochial clergy by every means in their power. The ideal of the others was not so broad and far-sighted. They did not want to be a new religious congregation, as Janssen seemed bent on making them, t nor had they any sympathy with his plans for scientific studies. Let who liked look after Darwin, while they carried out the proper function of missionary priests, which was to preach the plain, unadorned Gospel to the heathen. Soon it came to an overt breach and two of his tiny cenacle walked with him no more. It nearly broke his heart, and no doubt the critics said to their friends with grim relish:

“My dear fellow, I told you so!”

GOD’S STAMP

But Arnold Janssen held on his desolate way, pouring out his soul to the God in whom he trusted even though He should kill him and obliterate his humble effort to serve His Divine Majesty. We must skip the stations of his cross and jump seventy years ahead to see what came of all the tears and toils and sufferings. The old tavern and barn are now transformed into a very city of God inhabited by 1200 priests, students for the priesthood, brothers and nuns, all the children of Arnold Janssen. Steyl, in fact, is one of the greatest powerhouses and show places of Catholicism on the face of this earth. Until the Nazis dismantled it and dispersed its fine machines throughout various parts of their short-lived Reich, the Pontifical Printing Works of Steyl, started by Janssen himself and always operated by his sons, was recognised as one of the most up-to-date and best equipped in Europe. From it used to come before the War weekly, monthly, quarterly, yearly, no less than eleven learned or popular religious periodicals. One of these, Die heilige Stadt Gottes,another of Janssen’s inspirations, became easily the best-seller of all Catholic magazines in German-speaking lands and attained a circulation of half a million. . Long before we heard of prefabricated houses in this country they were being made by the expert Brothers of Steyl for shipment to the missions. Not only the Brothers, but the Fathers, too, were encouraged by their Founder and given every facility to turn themselves into skilled craftsmen in wood, metal and stone. One consequence of this is worth mentioning. Of the thirty-five buxom daughterhouses of Steyl in Europe alone, many were planned, built and equipped by members of the Society of the Divine Word, with a minimum of professional assistance. The greatest of these offshoots of the old tavern and barn on the Maas is the mission seminary of St. Gabriel’s at Modling, Vienna, a place that might astonish even its archangelical patron himself. Here indeed is trust in God vindicated beyond all calculation. In his strange novel, Embezzled Heaven, Franz Werfel, most Catholicminded of Jews, sends the queer old woman Teta on a visit of inquiry to St. Gabriel’s, but “the famous house of the brave missionaries was a town in itself, and she lost her way.” Like Steyl, this new town in itself was founded directly by Arnold Janssen, and by Janssen the feet of its most distinguished citizen, Father Wilhelm Schmidt, S.V.D., were early directed into those paths of learning which have made his name world-famous. Father Schmidt, now nearly seventy-eight but still busy with science and with souls in Switzerland, founded at St. Gabriel’s in 1906 the international anthropological and ethnological review, Anthropos, which he still edits.

At this point the reader may wonder what has become of the foreign missions, the bride of the untravelled Janssen’s holy heart by day, the dream of his heart by night. They are there all right, and all the work done by the Society of the Divine Word in Europe and the United States, where it has fourteen flourishing colleges and missions, including the great seminary at Techny, in Illinois, known to all Americans through its publications, is strictly subservient to them. The Society today numbers well over four thousand members, a truly wonderful growth in the span of a single human life, especially in view of the genuine austerity of the rule. The point of such privations is that money may be saved for the missions. Those missions are now to be found in every quarter of the globe, among the negroes of North America and Africa, and the Indians of the Argentine, Brazil, Chile and Paraguay; in several of the wildest areas of China, where also the Society has charge of the Catholic University of Peking, with its four thousand alumni; far and wide on twenty-eight stations, true stations of the cross, in Japan; all over the Philippines, in India, New Guinea, and islands lost in the wastes of the Pacific. In omnem terram exivit sonus eorum, or should we not say ejus, of the peasant lad who loved and trusted God so well that he became, as in some heavenly fairy tale, an emperor among men? What an answer the life of this German is to the prating of those dreary imbeciles who say there are no good Germans! Janssen’s cause of beatification has been introduced at Rome and is making good progress.

ONE BRANCH OF ARNOLD JANSSEN’S GREAT ENTERPRISE BY REV. J. TSCHAUDER, S. V .D

Arnold Janssen’s Great Enterprise started as just that, an enterprise for the glory of God and the salvation of souls; as an adventure of a man who was willing to dare for the honour of God and the salvation of souls redeemed in the Blood of Christ. Today that “Enterprise” is a reality-the Society of the Divine Word which, during seventy years, has developed beyond even Arnold Janssen’s fondest hopes. The personnel of the Society already comprises one Car- dinal, thirteen Bishops, six Prefects Apostolics, one Administrator Apostolic, one thousand eight hundred and seventeen Priests, seven hundred and fifty-five Seminarians, one thousand seven hundred and forty-six Lay Brothers, two thousand three hundred Students and three hundred and thirty-three Aspirants to the Lay Brotherhood-over seven thousand persons in all.

Mission Colleges and Seminaries of the Society of the Divine Word have been erected in nearly every European country, the United States, South America, China, the Philippine Islands and the Netherlands East Indies. They number nearly fifty, and educate boys for the Priesthood and Brotherhood as members of the Society. Shortly before the war, houses were opened in Ireland, Belgium, England, Italy and, of late, also in Australia.

The Mission fields of the Society of the Divine Word circle the globe -China, Japan, India, Philippine Islands, Netherlands East Indies, Africa, South and North America and New Guinea. The salvation of close to fifty million pagans and over one million Christian souls are entrusted to the Society.

The Society of the Divine Word came to the special notice of the Catholics of this country when the battle for New Guinea was at its height. Then the work of the Missions in the Mandated Territory was officially recognised. Attention was focused on the Society’s New Guinea Mission because of the rescue of the small remnant of personnel at Hollandia in 1944.

Interest of the whole country, especially of the Catholics, in the New Guinea Missions has been accentuated with the certain knowledge that New Guinea is the first barrier of the defence of Australia from the north. The history of the Papuan Missions and Territory has been written, but the Mandated Territory remains an unexplored and littleknown territory even today. The first to really penetrate the jungles of that part of the tropical island were the Missionaries of the Divine Word.

The story of the founding of the Divine Word Missions, known as the Eastern and Central New Guinea Missions, in the Mandated Territory, is a story of heroism and enterprise; the story of its destruction in the last war is one of horrifying loss and lamentable suffering.

EARLY DAYS

The portion of New Guinea now known as the Eastern and Central New Guinea Missions, was for some years under the Sacred Heart Fathers, whose headquarters were at Rabaul. Lack of Missionaries forced the indefinite postponement of the evangelisation of the mainland portion of the vast Rabaul Vicariate, which comprised all of what was then German New Guinea.

On May 29, 1895, the Prefect of the Propagation of the Faith, Cardinal Ledochowski, informed the SuperiorGeneral of the Society of the Divine Word of his intention to separate the mainland of New Guinea from the Vicariate of Rabaul, and convert it into an independent mission. He also sought an indication of g the SuperiorGeneral’s willingness to take over the new mission. Father Arnold Janssen accepted at once, and on February 10, 1896, the Prefecture of Williams Land was canonically erected.

The Rev. E. Limbrock, S.V.D. a missionary in China since 1883 was appointed first Prefect Apostolic. His first companions were the Rev. F. Vormann, S.V.D., and Rev. J. Erdweg, S.V.D., and the Brothers Canisius, Eustachius and Theodulphus.

The little party arrived at Madang, after three months” voyage on the Stettin, on the 18th of August, 1896. From Madang Father Vormann set out on a reconnaissance trip. Later on, together with Fr. Erdweg, Brother Canisius and 10 native labourers, who had been lent to them by the Rabaul Missionaries, he boarded the Stettin and travelled to the north-west, stopping at the island of Seleo (off Altape). The Superior and other Missionaries were unable to make the trip, as they were in the grip of malaria.

The owner of a coconut plantation on Seleo, a certain Mr. Kaernbach, assisted the missionaries in purchasing a block of land on Tumleo, a small island two or three hours by boat from Seleo. He helped unload their cargo, and mobilised the Seleo natives, who, in canoes and boats, ferried the cargo and equipment across to Tumleo.

On October 25th Father Limbrock and the two Brothers bade Madang and its malaria-infested mangrove swamps farewell. Three days later they celebrated a happy reunion on Tumleo.

BEGINNINGS

October 28th may be considered the actual inauguration of the Catholic Mission of Williams Land, for it saw not only the gathering of all the missionaries of the newly-founded mission, but it also marked the first baptism. Little Anthony Joseph became the first of many thousands of Catholics to follow both on earth and into heaven. Anthony Joseph died a few days after baptism.

Even then time was not heavy upon any of the missionaries” hands. There were sick to be looked after, sores to be dressed, ulcers to be cleaned. Though not quite understood by the natives, this work helped remove the mountain barriers of fear and mistrust.

The missionaries soon thought of opening a school. A primitive building was quickly erected, but those for whom it had been intended showed remarkably little interest in it. This was one of the greatest difficulties to be met and overcome-indifference to everything that required effort, physical or mental. However, in the year 1897 the first primer and a number of prayers were printed in the Tumleo language.

In 1899 the missionaries were half way between Aitape and Madang, at Manumbo, then a group of populous villages along the coast, just opposite Manam or Volcano Island. The same year witnessed the arrival of the first Sisters, Servants of the Holy Ghost. Besides taking over schools and dispensaries, they provided considerable help to the missionaries. Every year saw new missionaries coming to New Guinea, Priests, Brothers and Sisters.

Tumleo Island remained the headquarters of the mission until 1905, when circumstances forced the Superior to cast around for another, more suitable place. The North German Lloyd cut off the Tunileo run, which threatened to make Tumleo an isolated island. Further down to the south-east, about 120 miles beyond Bogia, was Madang, where the missionaries had landed nine years previously. Madang had regular steamers from Hong Kong, Singapore and Sydney. Madang would be an ideal place in that respect. The District Officer at Madang could advise nothing more than that the missionaries explore the coast to the north-west—something might be found up there which would be suitable for a mission station and headquarters.

Father Limbrock did not have far to go. Ten miles from Madang he came upon one of the best harbours in New Guinea, then still a solitude of water, swamp and jungle, but sheltered from both the north-west and the south-east monsoon. The long narrow Sek Island almost closed the entrance to the harbour. Sek Island was populated whereas there were few signs of human life around the harbour, except a few gardens belonging to the Seek Islanders, who were the owners of that land.

A NEW MISSION HEADQUARTERS COMES INTO BEING

The Sek people readily ceded all the land around the harbour to the mission. They were paid with trade goods, as was customary. Axes, jungle-knives, loincloths, saucepans, beads and other useful articles were given in compensation. Soon, however, fierce opposition arose against the Catholic Mission. The Sek people, instigated by a group of white residents, all but cancelled their contract and handed back the articles they had received in payment for their land.

Doilon, or Alexishafen, as it is known to-day, would have never become the headquarters of the Catholic Mission and Seat of a Bishop, had it not been for one native of Sek Island. That native was Futol, whose name could be translated into “Hard Hitting Talk” or “Three Strokes.” Be that as it may, Futol’s talk to the assembled natives must have hit their heads extremely hard, for it was he who succeeded in making the natives stand by their contract. The trade goods were not handed back, and the mission began the development of Alexishafen. It was natural that Futol should henceforth regard himself as the “father of the Catholic Mission.” Often in later years he would paddle across from Sek to Doilon and watch with keen interest the progress of “his mission.” He was part and parcel of the mission. All he asked as his lifelong pension was “Kas-ti panag” (Give me some tobacco). He was actually known as “Kas-ti panag.”

ST. MICHAEL’S

The mission at Alexishafen was officially opened on May 22, 1905, and placed under the patronage of St. Michael, the Archangel, one of the principal Patrons of the Society of the Divine Word. In order to make the exploration of the area easier, native labourers, under the supervision of Brother Canisius and Brother Sylvester, cut long, straight clearings through the dense jungle and mangrove.

Every fortnight one of the three North-German Lloyd steamers of the Hong Kong-Sydney run called at Madang. The Singapore-Batavia-Rabaul steamer called every second month. The new station and its surroundings was surveyed and laid out by Father van den Hemel.

Alexishafen grew rapidly in every way. Sisters arrived and took over the hospital and school. The native teachers “ school was transferred from Tumleo to St. Michael’s. Coconut plantations were laid out. Even the cultivation of rubber (ficus) was begun. Hundreds of acres of cleared jungle yielded logs of ant-proof timber, which called for a sawmill and steamer. The sawmill was built, the 90-ton steamer, Gabriel, was commissioned. The Gabriel served the mission for almost 20 years, from 1909 to 1929, only to find an inglorious end on the slip at Rabaul.

Together with the economic foundation of the mission went the actual mission work among the natives. The process of conversion was a long and weary one. In fact, conversions among the natives up to World War I were not numerous. Paganism was not only deeply rooted in the hearts of these primitive and often savage people, but the natives had been left with very few traces of the anima naturaliter Christiana (the soul that is Christian by nature). The missionaries found it very difficult to gain a few footholds in the devil’s own fortress. Between 1905 and 1909 mission stations were strung along the coast connecting the other widely separated stations. To the north-west, about 20 miles from Alexishafen. the three stations of Mugil, Megiar and Matukar, were opened. Further to the west of Altape, the Malol, Arop and Aisano stations came into existence. All, at least by New Guinea standards, were populous villages or more fertile districts.

During the First World War, the in terior behind Alexishafen and Bogia was opened and Father Kirschbaum’s countless explorations up and down the mighty Sepik River prepared, slowly but surely, the hearts of the savage headhunting Sepik natives for the meek Gospel of Christ. The mission, for the first time, began to show a substantial increase in the number of converts and catechumens. The sweat and toil and patience of the heroic pioneers began to bear fruit.

As the first great War drew to a close the position showed signs of deteriorat ing. The missionaries” numbers had been on the decline. Since 1913 there had been no new missionaries to take over from the dead, the sick and the weary. Malaria, black-water fever and exhaustion bad taken its toll. Then, after the first War, there was question of nationality. The Commonwealth Government gave a spark of hope when permission was granted to the German missionaries to remain in the mission another two years after the cessation of hostilities. This would give time for the work to be taken over in part, at least, by English-speaking missionaries. That concession was later extended to 1928, when the question of nationality was entirely dropped and missionaries of all nationalities were permitted to remain or to enter the New Guinea Missions in the Mandated Territory. Between 1923 and 1928 conditions improved considerably with the arrival of reinforcements from the United States, Holland, Poland, Czechoslovakia, Austria, and, in 1928. from Germany, when three priests and seven Brothers from that country arrived; they were the first since 1913.

NEW HORIZONS

New Guinea had no communication system worth speaking of at this time. Most of the traffic used the sea route along the coast. The mission made extensive use of the rivers where this could be done. There were only two rivers that were suitable for navigation, the Sepik and the Ramu. This latter could be negotiated only by smaller craft. Using the Ramu, stations were opened in the deep interior in 1930. Those interior stations were real solitudes compared with other inland stations. Atemble and Annaberg, especially, were real lonely outposts that required plenty of courage to hold.

A great change was brought about in the New Guinea communications system by the discovery of gold in the mountains of the interior. Missionaries and prospectors arrived about the same time. Father Ross S.V.D. was in the Bismark Mountain and Mount Hagan regions as early as 1932. He met the Leahy brothers there when the latter came through prospecting for gold. Until then those mountainous interior regions were completely unknown to the white men. The culture of these people dated back to what seemed to be the stone age. The white man went into those regions for one of two purposes-gold or souls. The missionary was looking for immortal souls created by God for heaven-he found them in abundance. Down on the coast he had counted his people by the hundreds, in the Chimbu and Wahgl valleys, as well as on the heights of Mount Hagen, he counted them by the thousands. The climate was so different, too-much more to the liking of the white man. Down on the coast it was hot day and night; in this new region five or six blankets were needed at night. On the coast tinned vegetables and native taros and yams made up the menu;in the mountains practically all vegetables could be grown, even potatoes. This was the land of the missionary’s dream, and to those high altitudes and thousands of untouched souls the missionaries trekked. They struggled over mountain ranges, plunged through deep valleys, forded swift rivers to reach those people. It took them up to three weeks to reach their destination and more weeks and months until they were settled. Such places as Mount Hagen, Korugu, Gundiwagl, Bundi, Guyebi, and Dengeragu became chapters in the new mission history of New Guinea.

The natives lived in a constant state of war, family feuds, and murder. Fighting seemed to be their favourite pastime when not engaged in dances and festivals to celebrate some victory. At first the missionaries had to keep close to their little compounds, which were islands of peace in the middle of warring and treacherous natives.

The new mission was opened in the Mount Bismarck and Mount Hagen region. It soon called for the supreme sacrifice of life fromthe young missionaries. Here for the first time New Guinea’s soil was drenched with the blood of Divine Word Missionaries.

Father Charles Morschheuser, from Munster, in Westphalia, Germany, was ambushed by natives and killed with arrows on December 16, 1934, while on his way to celebrate Christmas at another station.

Brother Eugene Frank, an American, lost his life in the same manner, on almost the same spot, five weeks later. He was attacked on January 23, 1935, and died in the hospital at Salamaua.

THE MISSION TAKES TO THE AIR

One of the most pressing needs of the mountain missionaries was for a more frequent and quicker communication with the main Mission Station at Alexishafen. New Guinea gold was being shipped by plane. Planes ferried miners, machinery, dredges, food and all types of supplies, even native labourers, over razor-back mountain ranges to the gold fields of Vau and Bulolo. The missionaries had to traverse similar country on foot, wait for the supply columns of native carriers winding their way through abysmal valleys and gorges, creeping slowly over mountain ranges. Weeks elapsed, precious time and cargo was lost.

Bishop Francis Wolf, S.V.D., realised this and did the only logical thing -he became air-minded. He established his own air transport service. Two small planes were supplied by a European Mission Organization called the M.I.V.A. (The M.I.V.A. aimed at aiding the missions with modem means of transportation.) A M.I.V.A.trained pilot, Mr. William Schaffhausen, was sent with two planes. Things began to look good for the men in the mountains.

There were, it is true, times when the missionaries scanned the skies for weeks in vain, just as before they had watched the next mountain range for their supply columns. There were times, too, when they had plane and pilot at the station due to mishaps or bad flying weather. All those things had to be taken as part of the game. A third plane was added to the little fleet of airliners, and so a St. Peter, a St. Paul, and a St. Therese were in operation, with a fourth plane awaiting assembly.

In July, 1939, St. Michael’s. Alexishafen, became the scene of general rejoicing throughout the South Sea Missions. His Lordship, Bishop Wolf, S.V.D., of the Eastern New Guinea Mission, celebrated his Episcopal Silver Jubilee. All his missionaries, the Bishops from Central New Guinea, Rabaul, the Solomons, as well as the natives from every part of the mission, flocked to Alexishafen to contribute their share to the “big-fellow feast day belong Bishop.”

THE HAND OF GOD

The gala rejoicing of this Silver Jubilee Celebration closed with tragedy for the mission, the first of a long series of tragedies which ended in the complete destruction of the Eastern and Central New Guinea Missions as well as the other missions of the South Seas.

On Sunday, August 6th, 1939, the plane St. Therese crashed in taking off. The Bishop had gone to the aerodrome to see a party off to Van. In that party were Father Francis Kirschbaum, who had come from Vau to join in the jubilee celebrations, Father James Weyer and Father Otto Bader, who were to go to Vau for a short holiday. Only a few moments after its occupants had waved a cheerful good-bye the plane plunged to the ground, killing all occupants. Besides the three priests, the pilot, Mr. Schaffhausen, and a native teacher were killed.

World War II came to paralyse, to a great extent, the mission and its work. Many of the missionaries were of German nationality, and had, therefore, to abide by certain regulations which restricted their movements. They were allowed to remain and carry on their work for God and souls and the work of the missions went on until the Japanese arrived.

The invasion of the Mainland of the Mandated Territory of New Guinea did not take place until December 18, 1942, when the Japanese suddenly occupied all the key points along the coast: Wewak, Madang, Finschafen and Salamaua. Alexishafen was occupied a few days after the Japanese landed at Madang.

The Japanese set about stripping the mission and missionaries of everything. Under the pretext of protection, all missionaries, regardless of nationality, were put into concentration camps. The camps had to be built by the missionaries themselves. Having no supplies of their own, and the Japanese refusing to give them food, the priests, Brothers and Sisters were pressed into gardening. When the gardens were far enough along to furnish vegetables, the Japanese shifted the missionaries to another camp, “for safety reasons. One group of missionaries had to build three camps in one year.

While on their way to the third camp at Hollandia, the transport was attacked by Allied aircraft. The date, February 6, 1944, will always remain indelibly imprinted upon the minds of everyone on that boat for that attack resulted in the death of over sixty of the Internees. Bishop Wolf, S.V.D., was fatally wounded in this attack and died a few days later. Meanwhile the mission stations were being systematically reduced to ruins by the Japanese and Allied bombing as well.

The loss of mission personnel was greater than the material loss. The structures can be rebuilt by the toil and sweat of the missionaries over the course of the years, but it will take a long time to replace those men and women who were killed and whose bodies have been so shattered, that they will never be able to take their place again in the mission fields. The material loss of the missions is about 95 per cent. The loss of missionary personnel by death alone was fifty-one per cent!

As World War II ended the two Vicariates of the Divine Word Fathers in New Guinea lay in complete destruction, more than half their missionaries killed, another twenty-five per cent, unable to return to the field due to the aftereffects of their imprisonment by the Japanese. No other mission in the world suffered so heavily. The toil of fifty years lay in ruin and the task of rebuilding left to the willing but feeble hands of “old-timers.” They have returned after Im- patiently waiting transportation for many months, to start afresh, to build up a new Church in New Guinea. They have returned, reinforced by nineteen new sets of hands from across the sea, with a Confidence even greater than that which they possessed when they first beheld New Guinea’s palm-fringed coastline years before.

NEW VENTURES IN AUSTRALIA

The Society of the Divine Word’s latest missionary endeavour is its new establishment in Australia, St. Vincent’s Mission Seminary, Marburg, Queensland. St. Vincent’s, a preparatory school and novitiate for Clerics and Lay Brothers, opened in July, 1945, to train Australian youth for the missions of the Society of the Divine Word.

The glory of the missions of the Society of the Divine Word is shared by the Sisters, Servants of the Holy Ghost, founded also by Father Arnold Janssen to work hand in hand with the Divine Word Fathers and Brothers. They, too, shared the burden of material loss with the Society of the Divine Word, and suffered especially heavily in the death and incapacitation of their Sisters. The Sisters, Servants of the Holy Ghost, total nearly four thousand professed Sisters throughout the world. The Servants of the Holy Ghost have also opened a Novitiate in Australia, the Holy Ghost Convent, at Aspley, Brisbane, Queensland.

Father Arnold Janssen’s Great Enterprise started as an “Enterprise” and has developed into one of the world’s most active Missionary Organizations. May the blessing of God rest upon those men and women who strive under his banner for their own sanctification and the salvation of the pagan souls placed under their care by the Vicar of Christ!

Nihil Obstat:

P. JONES,

Censor Deputatus.

Imprimatur

@ D. MANNIX,

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis.

********

As The Morning Rising . .

BY THE REV. PATRICK O’CONNOR

INDEX

“Who is she that cometh forth as the Morning Rising, Fair as the Moon, Bright as the Sun, terrible as an army set in Battle Array. . . . .

(From daily prayer of the Legion)

FORMULA

Take the fighting spirit of a football team.

Then take the sense of nearness to unearthly power, as you feel it amid the busy tranquility of Lourdes.

Add the painstaking exactness of keen hunters or alert businessmen.

Flavor it with the simple sweetness of the family Rosary.

And the result will be-something like what you find when you get inside the Legion of Mary.

Twenty-two years ago, the Legion began its march. The starting point was the top back room; of a house in a poor section of Dublin. There, on September 7th., 1921, eve of the Feast of Our Lady’s Nativity, seventeen people gathered. They included one priest, one layman and fifteen women, most of them young, of various occupations. The house was the headquarters of the St. Vincent de Paul Society in that neighbourhood. The members of this group had already been active in doing good among the poor. Now, at the suggestion of a layman, Frank Duff, a civil servant during office hours, and indefatigable St. Vincent de Paul member in his free time, they were forming themselves into a little association to do spiritual works of mercy. Their immediate program was to visit the sick poor in the wards of a large hospital. Their ideal was to be lay apostles as the servants, as the very instruments of the Blessed Virgin. They took the name of the Association of Our Lady of Mercy. Three years later they modified it to the shorter, more militant title:

THE LEGION OF MARY

They had all read St. Louis Grignon de Montfort’s Treatise on True De votion to the Blessed Virgin and had been captivated by it. From it they, and the thousands who were to join them later, took their distinctive spirit.

Realizing that God had chosen to give Himself to mankind through Mary, they believed that He wished to bestow His gifts through her.

Realizing that Jesus came into the world as the fruit of Mary, they believed that He will live and grow in every soul as the fruit of Mary.

Realizing that she is truly His Mother, they realized also that she must be the Mother of His Mystical Body, the Church, and of all its members.

Seeing in Mary the first and most intimate co-operator in the divine work of Redemption, its greatest beneficiary, they knew that it was still given to her, before all other creatures, to crush the serpent’s head.

So they went forth into the hospital wards, into the tenements, into the city streets, into the wide world-not just to work for souls with Mary’s help, but to help to do Mary’s work for souls.

That is the secret of the Legion, of its amazing advance, of its incredible conquests. It is the powerful mediation of Mary taking effect upon souls. Her Divine Son will never have her to be anything but Our Lady of Victories. Her Legionaries know that now from experience, as twenty-two years ago they knew it from inner conviction.

ACROSS THE WORLD

Just how far has the Legion of Mary gone in its twenty-two years on the march?

In 1927, with thirteen units in Dublin, it made its first foundation outside Dublin, in Waterford, Ireland. Now watch its progress:

1928 to Scotland.

1929 to England.

1931 to the United States and India.

1932 to Canada and Australia.

1933 to New Zealand, Africa, West Indies.

1937 to China and Burma.

1938 to Costa Rica, Panama

1939 to Malta.

1940 to France.

1941 to the Philippines.

1942 to Egypt and Syria and the Holy Land.

1943 to Holland.

Just what kind of work does the Legion do? Every kind that helps to bring people nearer to God. That means any people, good, bad and middling; it means fallen-aways and falling-ways; non-Catholics, agnostics, pagans, prisoners, invalids, children, tramps, gypsies and the fellow who works at the desk or machine next to yours.

NEVER GIVE UP

The Legion specializes in tackling hopeless cases and it never gives up. In one city the Legionaries used to visit a tenement house where a certain door never opened to their knock. But for years they kept coming-and knocking! Always before leaving, they pushed a Catholic booklet under the door. Some of the neighbors said that the dweller in the locked room was not a Catholic; others said that he was a Catholic who had been away from the Sacraments for at least thirty years. The Legionaries carried optimism and perseverance so far as to push under his door a card announcing a one-day retreat for workingmen. When the retreat opened, a man was present whom nobody could remember having previously seen or interviewed, he made a good retreat and-yes, he was the man from behind the locked door!

In practise, the Legion work may be making friendly calls to discover newly-arrived Catholics and welcome them to the parish, to unearth fallen-aways or to break the ice that may later thaw into a conversion. It may be selling Catholic literature from a push-cart in the city streets. The Legion sold 6,500 Catholic booklets in a year in the streets of Glasgow. A Legion booth in the Canadian National Exhibition in Toronto in 1939 brought eleven people to sign up for instruction and thirty-nine to leave their names for further contact.

Cooking and scrubbing in a shelter for the down-and-out, collecting articles for the missions, conducting a study-club, tactfully helping to have an invalid marriage rectified, rounding up neglected children to prepare for Confession and First Holy Communion; all of these and a thousand more are Legion work; only one activity is barred: giving material relief.

In everything the Legion is subject to ecclesiastical authority and does its work only as an auxiliary to the priests. It is not competing with any sodality or devotion. It wins members for sodalities and brings people to devotions. It is the realisation of that magnificent ideal, so glorious that some people are too timid to aim at it, so entrancing that some only talk about it: Every Catholics an apostle. Indeed, the former Apostolic Delegate to Missionary Africa, Archbishop Riberi, has said of the Legion of Mary: “It is the nearest approach to the ideal of Catholic Action as fostered by the Holy Father.”

WHO ARE THEY?

Who are the members of the Legion? Frank Duff, the founder answers: “Not special souls or unusual types, but ordinary Catholics living the everyday life of the world. Its membership comprises the learned and the unlearned, laborers and leisured, the unemployed, widely different classes, colors, races, including not a few whom the world would category as primitive or depressed. In a word, it represents typical Catholicism.”

It includes boys and girls in junior units. I know of one where they enroll others for catechism, take care of little children while parents are at Sunday Mass, distribute mission literature and print the parish bulletin.

Many of the Legionaries are women but it is emphatically a movement of men likewise. Two Legion groups that I can never forget are of men. One is composed of Dublin laborers, meeting in a hall long associated with a militant labor movement. After their day’s work on the docks or in the yards, they come from their tenement homes-lean-jawed, hardbitten realists-to plan their battles for Mary and to pray around her statue.

The other group is in St. Columban’s missions, China, where Father Hogan started the Legion in 1937. Plain poor men of Hanyang city, laborers, peddlers, fishermen, they say in Chinese the same prayers that the Legion says everywhere and wage among their fellow Chinese the apostolic campaigns that the Legion wages around the world.

The prayers of the Legion of Mary have been printed in some forty languages and dialects. The active membership now includes the following:

Americans (White and Colored); Africans, Australians, Burmese, Chinese, East Indians, Europeans, Filipinos, Indians of North America, soldiers of the United States army, soldiers of the Irish army, soldiers of the British army, soldiers of the Polish forces now in Scotland.

In the Irish army the members (including officers and men) lead the daily recitation of the Rosary, distribute Catholic literature, visit the sick in army hospitals, and help to organise army sodalities and the annual spiritual retreats for the army men.

One of the units in Malta is composed of soldiers. It was founded by an Irish soldier-Legionary.

Says Father Brown:

G. K. Chesterton’s “Father Brown” (Monsignor John J. O’Connor) has praised the Legion, as a working system, for “Combining mobility with stability.” It owes something to two masterpieces of organization—the ancient Roman Legion and the Society of St. Vincent de Paul. From the imperial army of the Caesars it takes the name of its unit, praesidium, and some of its other terms. Like the legion of old, it calls for loyalty, courage, discipline and order. From the St. Vincent de Paul Society it takes its simplicity and adaptability.

The fraternal spirit, the visiting in pairs, the weekly meeting, the report on work done, the secret-bag collections (the only revenue, apart from special donations) all these are in the tradition of the world-wide St. Vincent de Paul Society founded by Frederick Ozanam more than a century ago.

On the night of the first meeting in 1921, one of the pioneers came early and decorated the table around which the little group was to gather. The decorations consisted of a statue of Our Lady, as she appears on the Miraculous Medal, set on a white cloth; with two vases of flowers and two candlesticks with lighted candles. The first act of the meeting was to recite the prayer to the Holy Spirit and the rosary around this simple and expressive altar.

Today, the Legion of Mary is everywhere faithful to the happy inspiration that accompanied its beginning. Week after week, as American, European, African, Australian and Asiatic Legionaries gather, it is always around a similar altar and always with the same prayers.

The order of the meeting is everywhere the same, too. The Rosary is followed by a five-minute reading from a spiritual book. The minutes of the previous meeting are read, and then the members give reports on the work done during the week.

Half-way through the business of the meeting a halt is called. All stand and then, like a flourish of trumpets, like sunlight on banners, comes the antiphon, recited in unison:

“Who is she that cometh forth as the morning rising, fair as the moon, bright as the sun, terrible as an army set in battle array?”

This is followed by the Magnificat and the prayer for the feast of Our Lady, Mediatrix of all Graces.

The Spiritual Director then gives a short exhortation. When that is finished, a little bag begins a half-hidden journey. Hand passes it to hand, under the edge of the table, and a muffled clink sounds as each one drops in the offering that is known only to God and himself. (Sometimes, indeed, it is known only to God’) This thoroughly secret collection takes care of the modest expenses of the praesidium and of the higher bodies, the local curia, the regional or national senatus, the general concilium. Before the meeting ends with the closing prayer, work is assigned for the coming week. And the work reported on as well as the work assigned is always work for souls, apostolic work, and nothing but that.

In all his activities the first objective is the sanctification of the Legionary himself. The Legion of Mary has no illusions about the prime duty of every Catholic or the prime requisite for every apostle. The Legion handbook is a little encyclopedia of practical spirituality and a guide for apostolic harvesters.

IN U. S. A

In 1931, Father Joseph P. Donovan, C.M., introduced the Legion of Mary to the United States in an article published in the Ecclesiastical Review. The first American Praesidium was formed in Raton, New Mexico. Later on, envoys were requested to come to organize the Legion in the American dioceses. Two of these envoys, Mary Duffy and John Murray, are still in the United States and are quietly doing an astonishing amount of solid work. The Legion of Mary is now established in about eighty-five dioceses and in approximately 1,000 parishes of the United States.

It is estimated that the Legion is increasing throughout the world at the rate of seven new Praesidia a week. It publishes a quarterly, Maria Legionis. The Central Governing body is the Concilium in Dublin.

Legion of Mary history is full of marvels. Take for instance, the beginnings in France.

Of all years possible, it was in 1940 that the Legion of Mary began in France! An Irish girl, Louise O’Brien, teaching in Angers, went to Paris about three weeks before its surrender. There she succeeded in launching a Praesidium among the Polish refugees. One of its fruits is the Praesidium of Polish airmen now in Scotland.

Paris fell and then France. Miss O’Brien, a refugee from the capital, went to Nevers, where St. Bernadette was once a Sister and where the bishop today is the Most Reverend Monseigneur Patrice Flynn! The Sisters of Bernadette’s community gave Miss O’Brien shelter and encouragement. In that very month of the fall of France she set about launching the Legion of Mary, relying on the aid of St. Bernadette. Before the end of the year the diocese of Nevers had six Praesidia. Today it has seventy and the Legion has radiated out from Nevers to Dijon and back to Paris to the famous Notre Dame church.

THE LEGION IN THE MISSIONS

Most impressive is the story of the Legion of Mary in mission lands. It is a practical proof that baptism and confirmation equip every Catholic for the lay apostolate. Africa was the first mission-field in which the Legion of Mary took root. To Monsignor Moynagh of St. Patrick’s Missionary Society belongs the merit of boldly implanting it. He formed the first Praesidium in 1933 in Nigeria-of native men. Many of the members were unable to read but all could pray and work. And they did. Four conversions, thirty fallen-aways brought back and eleven marriages rectified, were some of the gains reported in a short time by these new Legionaries battling in the midst of strongly entrenched paganism. Today, West, Central, East and South Africa is dotted with Legion praesidia. Monsignor Moynagh’s goal for his territory of Calabar is: every practical Catholic an active or an auxiliary member of the Legion. Already, Calabar has sixty praesidia. In Nairobi, East Africa, one Praesidium brought in 1,000 catechumens (candidates for baptism) in one year.

In India, the Legion is deeply rooted. In Ceylon, the men Legionaries far outnumber the women. In Burma, the Legion was established in Rangoon, Taungoo, Mandalay and Maymo. Father Way of St. Columban’s missions was planning to start it in Bhamo. Father Hogan and Father Pigott of St. Columban’s introduced it into China.

From the beginning, the Penitent Thief has been a favorite of Our Lord and His Mother -in a convict settlement on the Andaman Islands in the Bay of Bengal, where all the prisoners are murderers doing life sentences, a Legion of Mary Praesidium has been founded.

One of the most interesting missionary activities of the Legion of Mary is its Overseas Club for Asiatic and African students attending the universities and colleges in Dublin. Here Hindus, Moslems, Buddhists, Parsees and various kinds of Protestants have a chance, in attractive surroundings, to become acquainted with Catholic life and thought. Discussions take place regularly. At one of these, a Mohammedan student was heard supporting Sovietism. A listener felt that here, at least, was a very unlikely convert. The student has since become a Catholic.

The Legion of Mary has two kinds of membership, Active and Auxiliary. The Active Legionary attends the weekly meeting of the Praesidium, spends a couple of hours (more if he wishes) each week in work for souls, and every day recites the group of prayers called the Catena Legionis. The Catena (Latin word for chain) comprises the Magnificat, with the antiphon and prayer as said during the meeting. It is the distinctive prayer that binds all Legionaries of Mary together throughout the world.

If the duties of an active member are not within your range, those of an auxiliary are. The auxiliary marches with the Legion, keeping step by prayer. For a lay auxiliary this means saying every day the prayers said at the regular Legion meetings. Since priests and religious already have special obligations to spiritual exercises, they are asked only to say the Catena daily and to give the Legion a share in the spiritual treasures at their disposal. Thus, they rank as Adjutorians.

On the evening of September 7th, 1921, if the first seventeen Legionaries looked out the window of that top back room on Francis Street, they would have seen only the Autumn twilight falling over the roofs and steeples of old Dublin. But if they had the gift of prophetic vision, they would have seen far vistas of many cities and many lands. And they would have seen not the shadows of twilight but a great splendor, as of the morning rising.

Imprimatur:

@ JOHN FRANCIS NOLL, D. D, Bishop of Fort Wayne

Nihil Obstat:

REV. T. E. DILLON Censor Librorum

20/6/46

********

Ask And You Shall Receive

A BOOKLET OF PRAYERS FOR THE SICK

REV. JOSEPH L. GERBER

INDEX

FOREWORD

This booklet of selected prayers aims to be of service to the sick. The prayers are intended primarily to be said by the patients, although someone else might read them for those who are themselves unable to say the prayers.

Emphasis has been placed on brevity. Long prayers are often fatiguing to the sick. Short prayers and ejaculations often repeated are more desirable.

The first part of this booklet contains prayers that can be used by Catholics and non-Catholics alike. The second part contains prayers intended specifically for Catholics.

We hope that priests, sisters, and nurses will find this little work useful in the spiritual care of the sick.

PART I

SUITABLE FOR CATHOLICS AND NON-CATHOLICS ALIKE

EVERYONE’S DAILY PRAYER

O my God, I believe in you and in everything you have revealed and taught. Give me strong faith.

I believe in one God, who will reward the good and punish the wicked. I believe that in God there are three divine Persons-God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Spirit.

I believe that God the Son, Jesus Christ, came on this earth and added our human nature to His divine nature in order to die on the cross for our salvation. I believe that Jesus Christ is the Redeemer of the human race and that He also died for me.

O my God, you are all-good and all-merciful. I sincerely hope to be saved. Help me to do everything that is necessary to save my soul.

Have mercy on me, O my God, and forgive me all my sins. I am sorry, truly sorry for all of them because I have offended you, who art all-good, all-holy, all-merciful, and kind.

I love you, O my God, with all my heart, and I promise that with your help I will never offend you again.

“O God, be merciful to me, a sinner.”

MORNING PRAYERS

O Lord God, who art ruler of heaven and earth, I thank you for having brought me safely to another day. Bless me and everything that I shall do. I offer up all my thoughts, words, actions, and sufferings of this day for your greater honor and glory and the good of my soul.

I believe in you because you are truth itself; I hope in you because you are faithful to your promises; I love you with my whole heart because you are worthy of all my love; and for your sake I love my neighbor as myself.

“Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name.

Thy kingdom come; Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread. And forgive us our trespassers as weforgive those who trespass against us. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.” Amen. (Matt., 6:9–13)

EVENING PRAYERS

O my God, I present myself before you at the end of another day to offer you again the homage of my heart and to thank you for the many graces and blessings bestowed upon me this day.

I am sorry for the sins and negligences of this day and for the sins of my whole life, because by them I have offended you, my God. I am firmly resolved to better my life and sin no more.

Bless the repose I am about to take, so that, my bodily strength being renewed, I may be the better enabled to serve you. Amen.

AN ACT OF RESIGNATION

O almighty Father, I accept this sickness from your Fatherly hands. Whether it be for life or death, I resign myself entirely to your holy will.

“Not my will, but Thine be done.”

AN ACT OF SELF-OBLATION

Eternal Father, I offer up to you all that I now suffer or all I may have to suffer in the future. I unite all my pains to those of our Savior Jesus Christ on the cross that they may be sanctified through His sufferings.

AN ACT OF PRAISE

Almighty eternal God, I desire to praise you. in sickness as well as in health. In praising you, I join my heart and my voice with the voice of all the faithful on earth and in heaven who praise and bless you forever.

FOR SUPPORT IN SUFFERING

O Jesus, you know how naturally I shrink from the cross, although I know that it was by the cross that you saved me and that I cannot enter heaven except by the way of Calvary. Support me in my afflictions and inspire me with that patience, that strength, and that courage which you gave to the martyrs. Since I can prove my love and gratitude to you by my suffering for your sake, help me and sustain me when I am sinking under its burden. As you suffered and died on the cross for my sins, I will accept my cross of sufferings as a means of atoning for my sins.

PRAYER FOR OTHER PATIENTS

Lord Jesus Christ, in your tender pity you delight to heal the bodies and souls of men. Pour down upon us all your grace and blessings. Have mercy upon all the sick and infirm, especially those within this hospital. Give them patience and teach them to see your good and gracious purpose working in all the trials which you send them. May all the sick find comfort in the consoling truth that sickness and sufferings can be means of obtaining great spiritual merit and a closer union with you.

O loving Savior, help the dying and deliver them from eternal death. give them the grace to be truly sorry for all their sins, to die at peace with you, and after death to enjoy that heavenly peace and happiness which is prepared for those who love you. Amen.

PRAYER FOR A SPEEDY RECOVERY

O my God, whom every creature obeys, at whose command every kind of infirmity is removed, hear my prayer. Hold out to me the hand of your mercy and cure me of every disorder of body and soul. May God the Father, who treated me, bless and heal me. May God the Son, who suffered for me, bless and heal me. May God the Holy Spirit, who sanctified me in baptism, bless and heal me. Amen.

THANKSGIVING FOR RECOVERY

O Lord God, in your tender mercy you have restored me to health. Give me the grace to spend this life, which you have lengthened, in your service. Help me to carry out all my good resolutions so that I may always live a truly Christian life; so that when it shall please you to call me out of this world, I may die at peace with myself, at peace with the whole world, and most of all at peace with you.

SHORT ASPIRATIONS

JESUS, poor and humiliated; despised, hated, and deserted by men; tempted by the devil; sold and betrayed; HAVE MERCY ON ME.

JESUS, bound with ropes and chains; blasphemed; esteemed less than Barabbas; unjustly condemned; HAVE MERCY ON ME.

JESUS, shamefully stripped; scourged, mocked, and beaten; crowned with thorns; insulted and defamed;

HAVE MERCY ON ME.

JESUS, laden with the cross and nailed thereon for my sins, HAVE MERCY ON ME.

MY JESUS, MERCY!

MY DEAREST JESUS, BE NOT MY JUDGE BUT MY SAVIOR.

JESUS, MY GOD, I LOVE THEE ABOVE ALL THINGS.

O SWEETEST HEART OF JESUS, I IMPLORE THAT I MAY LOVE THEE MORE AND MORE. JESUS, MEEK AND HUMBLE OF HEART, MAKE MY HEART LIKE UNTO THINE. HEART OF JESUS, I PUT MY TRUST IN THEE.

JESUS! JESUS! JESUS!

PRAYERS FOR A HAPPY DEATH

O God, you have decreed that all men should die. But you have concealed from all the hour of death. Grant that I may pass my days in the practice of holiness and justice and that I may be made worthy to quit this world in the peace of a good conscience and in the embrace of your love. Through Christ Our Lord. Amen.

Jesus, grant me a happy death. Have mercy on me, a sinner. I am sorry for all my sins. As I hope for forgiveness, so do I forgive from my heart all who have injured me.

O my God, I now at this moment readily and willingly accept at your hand whatever kind of death it may please you to send me, with all its pains and sorrows.

Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, I give you my heart and my soul.

Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, assist me in my last agony.

Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, may I breathe forth my soul in peace with you.

PART II

Prayers to be used by Catholic Patients in the Reception of the Sacraments

THE SACRAMENT OF PENANCE

PRAYER BEFORE CONFESSION

Come, O Holy Spirit, enlighten my mind that I may clearly know my sins; move my heart that I may be truly sorry for them, honestly confess them, and better my life. Amen.

EXAMINATION OF CONSCIENCE

Do you habitually miss your daily prayers?

Have you been ashamed of your religion?

Did you use the name of God in vain?

Did you curse or use bad words?

Did you miss Mass on Sundays or holydays through your own fault? Did you disobey your parents or superiors?

Were you unkind to others?

Have you been angry?

Did you quarrel with others?

Did you cause others to quarrel?

Did you take pleasure in impure thoughts?

Did you willingly listen to improper stories? Did you yourself tell them? Did you commit immodest actions? with yourself or with others? Did you steal anything?

Did you tell lies?

Did you talk uncharitably about others?

Did you eat meat on Fridays or on other forbidden days?

Do you drink to excess?

AN ACT OF CONTRITION

O my God, I am heartily sorry for having offended you; and I detest all my sins, because I dread the loss of heaven and the pains of hell, but most of all because they offend you, my God, who art all-good and deserving of all my love. I firmly resolve with the help of your grace to confess my sins, to do penance, and to better my life. Amen.

AN ACT OF THANKSGIVING AFTER CONFESSION

O Lord Jesus Christ, I thank you for the grace of a good confession. By Your death on the cross You have redeemed the world, andnow you have again applied the fruits of your redemption to my soul. Through the priest you have said, “I absolve you from all your sins.” Give me the grace to serve you faithfully as long as I live. Bless me, and help me to keep my good resolutions.

T HE LORD’S PRAYER

Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come; Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread. And forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. Amen.

THE ANGELIC SALUTATION

Hail, Mary, full of grace! the Lord is with thee. Blessed art thou amongst women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death. Amen.

(Now say your penance.)

HOLY COMMUNION

PRAYERS BEFORE HOLY COMMUNION

My dearest Lord and Savior, because of your great love for me I shall soon be privileged to receive you into my heart. Help me to prepare my heart so that it may be a pleasing dwelling place for you.

ACT OF FAITH. O my Jesus, I firmly believe all that you have revealed. I believe that you are really and truly present in the sacrament of the altar.

ACT OF HOPE. O my Jesus, by this Holy Communion I hope to obtain all the graces I need to gain heaven.

ACT OF LOVE. O my Jesus, I love you with my whole heart. I love you more than anything else because You are infinitely good and worthy of all my love.

ACT OF SORROW. O my Jesus, I am heartily sorry for all my sins because by them I have offended you. I promise to do all that I can never to sin again.

ACT OF ADORATION. O my Jesus, I adore you present in the holy sacrament of the Eucharist.

ACT OF HUMILITY. O my Jesus, I am not worthy that you should enter into my heart; but say the word, and my soul shall be healed.

ACT OF DESIRE. O my Jesus, my Lord and Savior, I long for you. Come to me and strengthen me by your grace. Amen.

When you are receiving Holy Communion, say in your heart, MY LORD AND MY GOD! And then talk to Jesus in your own words, thanking Him for the great grace of receiving Him, and ask Him for the favors and blessings that you need.

PRAYERS AFTER HOLY COMMUNION

O Holy Lord, Father almighty, eternal God, I earnestly beseech you that the most sacred body of Our Lord Jesus Christ, your Son, which I have now received, may be to me an eternal remedy both of body and soul. Who lives and reigns with you in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God, world without end. Amen.

O Jesus, you have given yourself to me. Now let me give myself to you. I give you my body, that it may be chaste and pure; I give you my soul, that it may be free from sin; I give you my heart, that it may always love you; I give you my every breath that I shall breathe, especially my last. I give you myself in life and in death, that I may be yours forever and ever. Amen.

My dearest Jesus, I thank you for having condescended to come to me, a poor sinner. I praise and adore you, and with all my heart I offer you a thousand welcomes. I will love you forever and ever. Nothing shall ever separate me from You again, neither distress nor suffering, neither life nor death.

O Jesus, I live for you.

My Jesus, I die for you.

My Jesus, I am yours In life and in death.

ANIMA CHRISTI SOUL OF CHRIST, SANCTIFY ME

Body of Christ, save me.

Blood of Christ, refresh me.

Water from the side of Christ, wash me.

Passion of Christ, strengthen me.

O good Jesus, hear me.

Within thy wounds hide me.

Let me never be separated from thee.

From the wicked enemy defend me.

In the hour of my death call me,

And bid me come unto thee,

That with thy saints I may praise thee

For all eternity. Amen.

PRAYER AFTER RECEIVING EXTREME UNCTION

O my Jesus, now my body is anointed with holy oil, my soul is strengthened against the temptations of the wicked enemy, and I am consoled in my sufferings. I thank you from the bottom of my heart for your great goodness and mercy. I will now dismiss all worldly cares and resign myself entirely to your mercy.

If it be for my salvation, I hope soon to recover; and if not, I will be happy to obtain eternal rest with You. One day with you in heaven is better than a thousand here on earth. Grant that I may never lose the grace of this holy sacrament.

THANKSGIVING OF A MOTHER FOR A HAPPY DELIVERANCE

Almighty, everlasting God, through the delivery of the Blessed Virgin Mary you have turned the pains of the faithful at childbirth into joy. I thank you for the happy delivery of my child.

Give me grace always to be a good mother so that I may rear this child in the ways of your commandments and teach it to know and love you. Grant that after this life I may be worthy to obtain, together with my offspring, the joy of everlasting happiness. Through Christ Our Lord. Amen.

“JESUS, make me more like MARY; MARY, make me more like YOU.”

********

Ask Me Another

BY DANIEL A. LORD, S.J

INDEX

WITH A BOW OF THANKS to Robert Morrison, S.J., who gave the questions a very careful reading and made suggestions that were wise, accurate, from the viewpoint of the author most welcome, and from the viewpoint of the potential reader most important.

D.A.L., S.J

Out of the question boxes which I have opened in many retreats and days of recollection, I made a first sifting called The Questions They Always Ask. In this booklet I included the normal run-of-the-box questions, the type that invariably cropped up in every question box.

Then it occurred to me that the less usual questions might be of interest. So I made a second sifting -this time for the out-of-the-ordinary question, the problem that seemed somewhat different.

Yet I threw out the purely personal questions or those which were abnormal or “queer.” I did not include questions that clearly pertained to one person and only one person. I did include the questions that might be asked by a great many people. They were unusual in the sense that they did not happen to everyone; but they occurred, I was sure, to a great many people.

And most of all the questions interested me. So I thought they might interest readers as well.

Here they are, offered with the answers that may serve as enlightenment.

For the standard questions that are sure to be in large measure your problems too, I refer you to The Questions They Always Ask. For questions that open vistas of less routine difficulties, for problems that may interest many but not all readers, I now submit this little booklet.

If in the two booklets you are still not answered-well there may be place for a third and a fourth book of questions and answers. Of the making of questions, there is no end. Of the writing of answers, there may be parallel endlessness.

HOW IMPORTANT IS PRIDE IN THE PROCESS OF ONE’S LOSING THE FAITH?

Someday we may be able to stage some such debate: Resolved that lust has caused more men and women to lose their faith than has pride.

I am quite sure that in the long run the affirmative will win. Certainly of the men and women that I have known who have lost their faith, nine out of ten have done so because of some illicit love. As a wise old Irish pastor once said, “When a man loses his faith, ifit isn’t punch, it’s Judy.”

Pride does however very frequently enter the picture. A man is convinced that he has a very brilliant mind and that what he knows is right and that what he cannot accept is necessarily wrong. The Pharisees were probably scrupulously pure men, but they were too proud to believe that a carpenter could teach them anything. So many a young man has gone to a secular university, received an excellent education-during the course of which his faith was ignored or derided-and at the end has felt that be knew a great deal more than did the priests of his acquaintance and much too much to accept the teachings of the “antiquated” Church.

One famous apostate, Conan Doyle, is reported to have said that he had mercifully outgrown the religious superstitions of his adolescence. Later on he swallowed-sheet, tambourine, and ouija board-the superstitions of spiritualistic seances.

One of the most brilliant students of the Catholic university where I taught left the Church shortly after he was graduated because there were so many things that the Catholic Church taught that he “could no longer believe.”

But aside from this pride of mind there is another pride which is much more frequent in its undermining of faith. There is the pride of the man who makes a lot of money and who, conscious of his power, finds it annoying to have to kneel in the confessional or be one of a congregation made up largely of the day labourers in his plant. There is the society woman who recognizes that Catholicity is a social handicap, sends her sons and daughters to fashionable non-Catholic schools, and dislikes to attend the devotions at which her cook and her upstairs maid are present.

There is the author who refuses to submit his books for the censorship required by the Catholic Church, and the banker who regards the Church’s laws on honesty as a handicap to his success in business. There is the young man who finds that success in business goes oftenest to the man who sports the Masonic pin; in his anxiety to rise to power and fame, he gives up his faith, of which he has grown ashamed.

Pride has a great deal to do with the losing of one’s faith, but I still believe that in the long run passion causes more men to turn their backs on their religion than does pride.

HOW CAN I GET MY FATHER TO RECEIVE HOLY COMMUNION? HE RECEIVES ONLY ONCE A YEAR

Sometimes it is more difficult to get a member of one’s own family to practise his religion than it is to get a stranger to do so. Would it be possible to interest your father by having one of his Catholic men friends invite him? Couldn’t a friend get him to join the married men’s Sodality or the Holy Name Society or some other Catholic fraternal organization that receives Holy Communion frequently? Couldn’t you get one of his friends to invite him to make a retreat, in which Frequent Communion would certainly be discussed?

As for yourself, it might be that if you invited him to go with you to Communion he would go. Pick some important day, Mother’s Day for example, and ask him to go to Holy Communion for mother’s intention. Or pick out the anniversary of some family death and ask him to go for the repose of the beloved soul.

Or if you know that there are going to be Eucharistic devotions, like the Forty Hours, ask him to go along with you to these devotions. Plan to go to Confession, and suggest his going with you; then take it for granted that he will also go to Communion with you at Mass the next morning.

Sometimes these things are best handled without too much discussion. Just take it for granted that the occasion calls for Holy Communion and that you would love to have him with you, and he may come of his own accord.

A Catholic friend of mine is going to marry a divorced man. What attitude do you think I should take? I think that in all honesty you ought to tell her what a mistake she is making and what a serious sin she is committing. Don’t you think you could do this, not sternly, but in as friendly a fashion as possible?

Tell her that in most dioceses, St. Louis for instance, not only would she be excommunicated by her action but her bridesmaid and groomsman would be excommunicated too. Many Catholics pretend that they don’t know this. Perhaps they don’t know it, but they should. They might then take the whole performance less casually and a little more seriously.

Of course if she persists in going through the civil ceremony with the man, you cannot attend such a wedding. Tell her that in advance. And remind her that despite the civil character of the ceremony she is not married in the eyes of Christ or the Church and receives none of the rights and duties of a married person.

She must realize that after the civil wedding your social relationships with her will necessarily be curtailed. It is possible however that you will be her only remaining link with the Church. So I think you would be wise to keep up some sort of contact with her after her marriage. You can see her occasionally, for example at lunch, when her husband is not present; you can even invite her sometimes to go with you to church or to some parish affair. She may thus retain some slight connection between herself and the Church.

But you should let her know that if at any time she does want to talk with a priest, you will be happy to help her towards the beginnings of a return to her faith.

Why hasn’t the Catholic Church been more active to set up its ideals before the United States and the world ? For the last three hundred and fifty years the Catholic Church has been in a state of almost continued siege. Even in the so-called Catholic countries its enemies have been largely dominant and have made its existence difficult and often precarious. In countries dominated by England, the Church was for two and a half centuries either exiled, persecuted, or barely tolerated. The persecutions of the Church in France, in Italy, and in Spain are matters of simple historical record. For a long time here in the United States we Catholics, always in a minority, belonged to the poorer classes or to classes that were regarded as distinctly unfashionable. As a result the leading newspapers could safely ignore us, and the big universities could treat our struggling educational system with patronage or contempt.

All this made Catholics almost timid. In lands where Catholics have been persecuted, they have dreaded the return of persecution and have felt that by being quiet and unobtrusive they would cause less attention to be paid them and less dislike to be aroused against them. In Italy, France, and Spain-to take the examples of lands where belligerent anti-Catholic minorities seized power-Church property was confiscated. The schools were closed, and, as happened under the Kulturkampf of Germany, the right to print a newspaper or publish a book was denied.

All this certainly made Catholics self-conscious, often glad enough to be allowed to live unmolested or reluctant to arouse further persecution by an aggressive attitude.

I do not for a minute pretend that such an attitude may not be cowardly. I do think however that anyone can see that the attitude was natural.

So we are very foolish if we take the past as an excuse for present apathy and lack of zeal. Even if we arouse the most bitter persecution, as the magnificent Catholic Centre Party did in Germany or as Catholic Action did in Italy, we owe it to ourselves, to Christ, and to the Church to present our ideals courageously and without consideration of consequences to ourselves.

Yet despite all this it is difficult to see how Catholics can in many cases-and non-Catholics in almost all cases-be apparently unaware of the leadership of the bishops of this country and of the frequent pastorals they issue on almost every question of importance to our nation. Are they unaware that the bishops meet every year to discuss and to present to the world solutions of current problems, to apply Catholic principles to the questions of the hour, and to view contemporaneous matters in the light of Christ’s great teachings?

Are they still unacquainted with the Papal encyclicals and the applications which the bishops and other Catholic leaders are making in all fields of human relationships?

It is a little perplexing that we are taunted because we do not speak out on public questions and then in so deep a silence and so wide a neglect are ignored when we do speak out.

WHEN DOES GAMBLING BECOME A SIN?

Gambling becomes a sin when a person risks money which is not his own, money which he should rightfully use for other purposes-such as the care of his family; when through the excitement of gambling he neglects his duties-for example by failing to work properly at his own profession; and when gambling brings about a nervousness that unfits him for normal life.

There is in all of us a strange gambling instinct which makes us like first of all to take chances and then to lay our hands on a little money that came to us with apparently no effort on our part. The gambler is always convinced that easy money lies within the next turn of the card or the next click of the roulette marble.

For that matter we are gambling more or less all the time. Every new business venture is a gamble. If a man writes a book, he gambles on whether or not it will be a success. If we make a new acquaintance, we gamble to some extent on whether or not the friend will prove faithful and trustworthy.

Some of the evangelical religions have pronounced all forms of gambling sinful. I remember a minister who wrote to me, denouncing Catholics because they did not list gambling as one of the greatest of sins. I retorted by asking him where in the Bible gambling was explicitly forbidden. Since he was an evangelical, he believed that the Bible contained all articles of faith and morals. Where in the Bible was gambling forbidden? I never received an answer from him.

But though a certain amount of pleasant risking of money-money that we do not need for other purposes-in friendly companionship over a card game in the living room is surely harmless, still gambling is associated with real perils. A gambler makes a terrible husband. A youngster who acquires the habit of gambling may later on become a thief or a wastrel. The sad leading man of Show Boat is merely typical of the professional gambler, who usually succeeds in wrecking too, too many lives.

CAN YOU PROVE THAT THERE IS A PERSONAL GOD?

That is relatively simple. I need not remind you that Our Blessed Lord spoke of God as Our Father. Nothing else could be more personal than that. Christ claimed to be God and proved Himself to be God. Certainly Christ is a person. And when He spoke of the Holy Spirit as the Comforter, He was referring to a quality to be found only in a person.

But if the person who asks this question prefers a non-Biblical proof, the philosophical proof is simple too.

The visible world around us is proof of an intelligent creator. The whole structure of the world is of such an elaborate plan that a great non-Catholic scientist was led to say that quite clearly the maker of the universe must be the greatest of mathematicians. The carrying of that plan into effect, an effect which continues from day to day and from minute to minute, requires the strongest and most efficient will on the part of the planner. But a being with an intellect and a will is a person. So the creator of the universe is a person.

A non-Catholic friend of mine tells me that Catholics have the wrong Bible. He says that the true religion is contained in his Bible and that the Bible used by Catholics is different.

The Catholic Bible contains everything, all the books that are in the Protestant Bible. The Protestant Bible does not have all the books which are in the Catholic Bible; the Catholic Bible has all the books which are in the Protestant Bible. You will find in your Catholic Bible anything that the Protestant Bible contains. The Protestant will not find in the Protestant Bible some of the things that are in your Catholic Bible.

There have been differences between the King James or Protestant Bible and the Douay-Rheims or Catholic Bible. But it is interesting to note that many of these differences have disappeared since the Protestants revised their Bible and eliminated some of their incorrect translations and especially since in the new version of the Catholic Bible, just brought out in English under the guidance of the bishops, our translation has been made more readable.

You would be very wise by the way to become well acquainted with this new version. Nothing is added, nothing subtracted; but a fine body of scholars have worked over the original versions of the Bible, made a fresh translation, and brought the New Testament (the part retranslated thus far) in closer touch with modern English.

And again by the way . . . How often do you read your New Testament-not to mention your Bible-at all?

HOW DO YOU DISPROVE THE CHARGE THAT THE CATHOLIC RELIGION IS A RELIGION ONLY FOR THOSE WHO ARE OF STRONG CHARACTER?

This is a perfect case of “Damned if you do, and damned if you don’t.” How many times I have heard the Catholic religion accused of being a religion only for the weak! It is, according to these objectors, intended for those who need to be frightened by the fear of hell; who need the protection of the Ten Commandments; who aren’t strong enough to decide right and wrong, truth and error, for themselves; who need popes, bishops, and priests.

So you see the proper answer to your question is this: “The Catholic religion is the religion for the strong, for the weak, for everybody. If you are weak, Christ placed within His Catholic Church all those aids that make strength possible. If you are strong, you can rise with the help of God to the highest sanctity.

If your mind is not too vigorous, there are the simple truths of religion, beautifully and easily expressed. If your mind is strong, you can study the great philosophy and theology of the Church. If your will is weak, you have all the strength of the sacraments and of prayer and of the intercession of the saints. If you are strong, you can use these aids to scale heroic heights.

IF TWO CATHOLICS ARE MARRIED BY A PRIEST, AND ONE OF THE PARTIES TO THE MARRIAGE CONTRACT IS IN THE STATE OF MORTAL SIN, IS THE MARRIAGE RECOGNIZED AS VALID BY THE CHURCH?

Most assuredly yes. However the person who is in the state of mortal sin does not at the time receive the grace of the sacrament. Later on when the mortal sin has been removed and he is in the state of grace, then the grace of the sacrament enters his soul.

But even if he is in the state of mortal sin when he contracts the marriage, he is validly married.

Itdoes not need a lot of deep thinking however to realize the sacrilege involved in one’s receiving the sacrament of matrimony when one is in the state of mortal sin. And how can a person hope for the blessings of God on a life started with God’s enemy in the possession of his soul?

Hence the wisdom of the Church is that she insists upon a good confession before marriage. In the St. Louis Archdiocese the pastor is instructed “strenuously to insist that they confess their sins for the worthy reception of the sacrament of matrimony.” In some dioceses a priest will not marry Catholics who have not first gone to confession. That seems to be nothing short of a sensible and wise provision.

DID GOD CREATE EVIL, OR DID IT EXIST FOR ALL ETERNITY?

Neither. God permits evil which He did not create and which in a kind of way has no positive existence. That last statement may sound a little queer. Indeed it would take a long discussion to make it absolutely plain. But evil in itself is, as St. Thomas explains, the absence of good. When you are well, you have all that is requisite for health. When you are sick, something necessary for health is missing. When you have money enough for your needs, you are in a satisfactory state. When bankruptcy, a financial evil, hits you, you are simply in a state of being without enough money.

Evil is sometimes considered as the physical action. A man picks up a gun, pulls the trigger, and fires. In itself this physical action is neither good nor bad. The man may be a murderer; he may be a hero protecting his country; he may be a husband striking down the villain who would kill his wife and children.

But beyond this physical action there is good or evil. Men were intended to protect life. Some men throw his obligation away and commit murder. The physical act is neither good nor bad, but the moral intention either to protect life or to destroy it is something else. When the man’s intention is evil, it is really a negative thing because it destroys something, puts something out of his soul and character, and leaves him less than he was before the crime was committed.

So God helps man to perform his physical act. That negative, evil thing which he does is the man’s own. Why did God permit men to commit evil? That question is bound up with the whole fact of our free will. . God, as we have heard a thousand times, did not want to be served by slaves. He asked His sons and daughters to help Him run the world. If they agree, He is glad. If they refuse, He has given them a free will that makes refusal possible.

If you were like the stars, moving by the resistless law of gravity through the sky . . . if you were like an ant, controlled by blind slave instinct, you could commit no evil. But you are a free child of God. Hence God has put it in your power to save or to destroy the beautiful things of the world and of your own life if you so will. He strongly repudiates the evil that you do. He will not interfere to prevent you.

Should a boy keep company with a girl who is out of his financial class or marry out of his financial class? I am taking it for granted that this is a young man who has suddenly become interested in a young lady who has a good deal more money than he has. For some reason, perhaps obvious, I do not think he is a rich young man suddenly about to confer his riches on a girl who happens not to belong to the moneyed class.

We in America are smart to avoid the use of the word class-in any connection. Certainly we have no strict social classes. And may we be long preserved against them! Certainly even our financial classes are very impermanent and unstable. The poor boy of today may, in proper Horatio Alger style, become the rich man of tomorrow. We are very proud of the opportunities by which a young man with ability and energy can attain to almost any financial stature.

So it is possible that a young man might, by falling in love with a daughter of the rich, be inspired actually to work harder. But if he is, as I hope, the kind of person who doesn’t intend to make money the goal of his life, he had better talk pretty honestly to the rich girl. Will she be satisfied to live on a smaller income? Will she resent the small house that he can afford, after the mansion in which she has been living? Will she stop depending upon her father’s income and willingly live within the income of her husband? In other words is she wed to riches or is she willing to be wed to a young man of moderate income?

I think that a rich wife and a husband who is not rich is not a very satisfactory situation. There are too many sad stories of husbands who are embarrassed at the higher incomes of their wives or who are infuriated if they find themselves dependent upon their wives” money. They are placed in false positions, since they live, not according to their own in- comes, but according to the incomes of their wives.

As for the young man’s keeping company with a girl who is outside of his financial class, I think this is largely a practical problem. Will the girl be satisfied with his old car or with the streetcar, or will she expect him to call for her in a taxi or in a limousine? Will she be satisfied with the movies or a “coke” and a hamburger, or will she want to be entertained via the Stork Club and a box at the opera? The young man will soon find out whether the young woman loves him enough to accept what he can give her on his income. If she isn’t satisfied, he had better go wooing elsewhere.

IS THE RHYTHM THEORY ADVOCATED BY THE CHURCH?

“Advocated” is entirely the wrong word. The Catholic churchmen have definite views on the subject, views which have been expressed on many occasions. The Rhythm Theory is not wrong. Whether or not its use by a particular couple is right will depend upon their intentions. But the Church does not advocate something which it is inclined rather to tolerate.

In any case a couple are extremely unwise to set themselves to practise the Rhythm Theory without first talking things over with their confessor and then with a Catholic physician. Too many people are using the possibilities of the Rhythm Theory as excuses for selfishness. Too many are putting much too much trust in its unguided use.

A MAN PLANS A MURDER. HE HAS EVERY INTENTION TO COMMIT IT. THEN CIRCUMSTANCES ARISE WHICH MAKE HIM CHANGE HIS MIND. THE CIVIL LAW WOULD NOT PUNISH HIM. DO CATHOLIC MORALS REGARD HIM AS A CRIMINAL?

Before a crime can be committed, it must first exist in the mind of the criminal. So when this man planned his crime and fully determined to carry it out, he was in fullest intention a criminal. Hence if the act in itself would have been a mortal sin, his fully determined intention to commit this act is a mortal sin.

PERHAPS YOU CAN SUGGEST SOME WAYS BY WHICH WE CAN KEEP FROM BEING DISTRACTED DURING MASS OR WHILE WE ARE SAYING OUR PRAYERS

Since the greatest of saints have not succeeded in avoiding distraction, I am afraid that there is no sure recipe. At Mass the easiest means against distraction is to follow the priest as closely as possible. Hence the use of the missal and the actual offering up of the Mass with the priest are the best guard against distraction.

But I think that a great deal of distraction would be avoided if people sat in the front of the church instead of in the back. Sometimes distraction results from our going to church with the wrong person, either someone who is fidgety or someone who at the moment is too much interested in us-or we in him.

I am quite willing to admit that a young man or woman may perhaps pray more devoutly if he or she is praying for some very dear person who happens to be along. But a high emotional state may not be conducive to great attention to the Mass.

If however when you come to Mass you go up to the front of the church, do not sit in the end of the pew so that everyone will have to disturb and climb over you, follow Mass with a missal or a prayer book, offer up the Mass-before it begins-for some important intention, and then carefully follow the priest at Mass, distractions will be cut to a minimum.

Somewhat the same procedure should be followed in the case of prayer. Make your intention for your prayers; use your rosary, your meditation book, a prayer book, or some favourite form of prayer; choose a place for prayer where you are not likely to be interrupted or disturbed; and ask God to be with you.

IF A GIRL HAS BEEN DIVORCED, MARRIES AGAIN, AND HAS A CHILD BY HER SECOND HUSBAND, CAN THE CHILD BE BAPTIZED IN THE CATHOLIC CHURCH?

A famous old parish priest who was almost notorious for his sleuthing after souls was one day walking down the street. Towards him came a man wheeling a baby in a baby carriage. The man was a Catholic, had been divorced, and was married again; the child was the child of the second and civil marriage.

When they met, the priest stopped, looked sternly at the father, and said, “Has that baby been baptized?”

The man shook his head in solemn negative. “The Church doesn’t baptize babies like this,” he said.

The priest leaned forward, his face dangerously red.

“Look here,” he said, very quietly but very tensely, “you can go to hell yourself if you want to, but you have no right to put that child in danger of losing his soul. Wheel that baby right down to church this minute, and I”11 baptize him.”

To this answer however a warning should be added. The Church is very urgent that babies that are baptized be reared in the Catholic faith. Hence she will not permit the offspring of non-Catholics to be baptized unless there is reasonable hope of their Catholic rearing. So though in the case given baptism must be administered, it is true only if there is a reasonable prospect of the child’s receiving Catholic education and training. In the case I gave, this was certain-and was later borne out.

MUST A CATHOLIC NECESSARILY BE BURIED IN A CATHOLIC CEMETERY?

In most modern dioceses the Church law requires this. The reason is obvious. Our bodies are the temples of the Holy Spirit, have been again and again the tabernacles of the Eucharistic Christ, will rise on the last day to rejoin our souls, and hence are precious and in a very real sense sanctified.

So the Church out of respect for this body which has been and will again be the companion of our soul throughout eternity demands that the body be placed in earth that has been blessed and consecrated.

Sometimes this causes apparent hardship for people whose Catholic relatives must by the demands of Church law be buried in consecrated ground. The Church does not lose sight of the precious and consecrated character of the body of a Catholic even in cases like this. The bodies that are to be forever in heaven must rest in ground that is marked with special blessing and dedication to God. And in these days, when the human body has been treated with the contempt bestowed on something merely animal, that legislation has special force and value.

WE SHOULD LOVE GOD BEFORE OUR PARENTS, SHOULDN’T WE?

As a matter of fact we should love God before everyone else. God is the supremely lovable Being, the One who has done far more for us than have all our friends and relatives combined. Our hearts were destined to love Him; and if any other love prevents us from loving Him, that love is harmful, sad, and perhaps evil.

Sometimes it may happen that our love of God forces us to do things that may seem to hurt our parents. This is the case when a child becomes a priest or a religious despite the unreasonable opposition of parents.

Christ spoke of occasions like these when He said in almost frightening fashion that sometimes we must hate father, mother, brother, sister, and everyone else for His sake. If they stand between us and our duty to God, we mush push them aside.

Yet in the long run that apparent hardness is the truest love we show those others. If we love God and ask Him to care for those we love, we may be sure that His generosity will more than make up for any apparent coldness or hardness on our part. I have seen this a hundred times in the case of parents blessed in the religious vocations of their children, even though these parents might savagely and selfishly have opposed them.

But let’s remember this: We should love our parents, our husbands, our wives, our immediate relatives with great care for the prepositions “before” and “after.” Don’t let’s think of loving them “before God” or “after God.” Let’s love them “in God.” That means that we love them as God meant us to love them; we love them even more because we love God; and we love them because God loves them and has given them to us as among his greatest gifts.

IN WHAT WAY DOES PURGATORY DIFFER FROM HELL?

Largely the difference lies in the fact that hell is forever and purgatory is merely for a time. So in hell there is no hope. In purgatory there is every hope. In hell there can be no love of God. Purgatory is rich with the love of God’s friends. At the end of the world purgatory will close its doors and disappear forever from the memories of men; hell will go on as long as God is God.

WILL WE LOOK THE SAME IN HEAVEN?

I imagine that if the questioner is beautiful he or she is hoping that the answer is yes. If the questioner quite honestly regards himself or herself as not too attractive, I imagine that the answer desired is no.

Basically our bodies are beautiful. If there is something about us that is unattractive, that is a defect. We should all have been handsome, beautiful, and attractive had we been born in Paradise.

So we have all the necessary equipment for beauty. When our bodies rise on the last day, blemishes and defects will be removed. We will no longer be capable of sickness or accident, the frequent causes of ugliness. Our bodies will be glorified, and that means that though our friends will still be able to recognize us we will be the kind of people worthy to live in the glorious courts of God.

IS THERE SUCH A THING AS EXORCISM IN THE CHURCH TODAY?

Exorcism, or the driving out of devils, may be practised in the Church today only with the explicit permission of the bishop of the diocese.

Yet on his way to the priesthood the young candidate receives as one of the minor offices that of exorcist. This means that he has been given the power over the evil spirits.

In Christian countries and in countries that have long known the presence of the Blessed Sacrament, the indwelling of the Holy Spirit, and the powerful prayers of the faithful, the power of the devil is much limited. He may still powerfully affect the human soul; he seldom is allowed to express himself visibly by a power over the human body. Yet even in Christian lands the devil sometimes does take possession of an individual, and then exorcism may be practised in that case.

But missionaries find that in pagan countries where the Christian influence has never existed or where it has been slight the power of the devil often remains quite strong. He has been served so faithfully in some false religions that he can enter into possession of his worshippers.

So exorcism in missionary countries may be more frequent. But always in these days it is exercised with the greatest caution and under the most careful ecclesiastic supervision.

HOW DOES THE CHURCH FEEL TOWARDS STEP-PARENTS?

It feels towards step-parents exactly the way it feels towards all good people who in the kindness and charity of their hearts are serving the needs of others.

I have never read anything official about the attitude of the Church towards step-parents. But the Church loves all those who care for its little ones. It admires and praises all those who do the corporal and spiritual works of mercy.

So if the step-mother and the step-father are doing their best by the children of others, they may be sure of full approval from the Church and rich reward from God.

DON’T THE MYSTERIES OF THE CATHOLIC RELIGION DISPROVE THE THEORY THAT OUR APPETITE FOR TRUTH WAS MEANT TO BE COMPLETELY SATISFIED?

No one ever said that our appetite for truth was intended to be completely satisfied in this world. We are tremendously curious about the earth, but we will never see it all or know it all. The scientist is enormously curious about his pet scientific field, but its vastness continues to baffle him.

So the mysteries of our religion are enormous truths too vast for our minds completely to comprehend them. We know that there are three Persons in God, but we don’t know how such a thing can be. We know that God became man, but we don’t know adequately how such a mysterious union could actually have taken place.

So we know the facts that are contained in a great many mysteries, though we struggle to find the explanations.

The day will come when in heaven both the facts and the explanations will be ours. We will see the Trinity face to face in the Beatific Vision. The mystery of the Incarnation will be explained to us. Throughout eternity our minds will continue to explore the beauty and the truth that is God.

Then we shall know that complete satisfaction of our appetite for truth, an appetite which in this world must be content with morsels.

CAN A CATHOLIC JUSTICE OF THE PEACE MARRY PEOPLE IN HIS OFFICE?

When a Catholic assumes civil office, he is expected to carry out his civil duties. Among the civil duties of a justice of the peace is that of marrying those who present themselves with the proper credentials received from the civil authorities.

So in marrying couples in this way, a Catholic justice of the peace acts as a civil officer and with full right.

Very completely different however is the type of justice of the peace who in certain sections of America has turned into a racket his right to perform marriages. There is the justice who actually solicits marriages, who at any hour of the day or night will perform a “hedgerow” marriage for the young couple who come dashing up breathlessly demanding a quick union. There is the justice who makes no effort to discover whether the requirements of the law have been fulfilled and who uses his office simply as an easy way to make money.

No Catholic could act in this way; but for that matter no decent man with or without religion could lend himself to so shameless a trading on human emotions.

IF ALL MEN ARE BASICALLY THE SAME, DOES THE CHURCH OPPOSE MARRIAGE BETWEEN PEOPLE OF DIFFERENT COLOURS? FOR EXAMPLE DOES THE CHURCH FORBID MARRIAGE BETWEEN A WHITE MAN AND A NEGRO?

The Church is so convinced that all human beings are the sons and daughters of God that it has never legislated to forbid marriage between people of different colours.

Wisely it has considered that national tastes and customs would determine this factor in marriage. But a man’s a man and a woman’s a woman regardless of colour, so the Church has never legislated to forbid marriage between people of different colours.

WHY DO SOME PROTESTANTS DISTINGUISH BETWEEN CATHOLICS AND ROMAN CATHOLICS?

The word Catholic, as I have often insisted, is really a description. It comes from the Greek word Katholikos, which means universal. So a Catholic is a person who believes all that Christ taught and does all that Christ ordered. The Catholic Church is the Church which was intended for all men, all nations, and all ages.

In the beginning there was only one Catholic Church. Naturally enough other religions, as they arose, tried to appropriate the name. Some of the Protestant leaders were honest enough to give up the title Catholic. They ceased to be Catholic, universal; they became Anglicans, Baptists, Methodists, Lutherans, Christian Scientists.

But some of the churches continued to call themselves Catholic -notably the Greek Catholics of the so-called Orthodox religion.

The true Catholic Church, in order to distinguish itself from these others, reminded the world that its head was in Rome. These were the Catholics in union with Christ’s Vicar; and Christ’s Vicar had established his residence in Rome. This was abbreviated to the title Roman Catholic.

Father Conway, in his famous Question Box, says clearly on page 133: “In no official document has it [the Catholic Church] ever styled itself “The Roman Catholic Church”.” He adds that “The English bishops protested against this term at the Vatican Council in 1870.”

Yet properly the word Roman is in this case only a kind of clarifying distinction. It came into wide use when a group among the Episcopalians decided that they disliked the name Protestant and very much respected the name Catholic. They began to call themselves English Catholics or Anglo-Catholics. They were, they maintained, Catholics whose superior authority was in England as distinguished from those Catholics whose superior authority was in Rome or in Greece.

We have never worried too much about this distinction. We are Catholics. The others have only a part of what Christ taught and do only a part of the things He ordered. Theyreally don’t lay claim to all the world as their flock; and their relatively recent origin prevents them from claiming, as true Catholics should claim, every age since the birth of Christ.

Why should a priest say, “I am sometimes shocked at the number o f people who commit objective sins of uncharity; yet they never give a thought to what they have done”? Did he mean that a person can commit a mortal sin of uncharity or any other kind of sin and not know it?

It is impossible for a person to commit a morta 1sin if he is really ignorant of what he is doing. But let’s say that this completely thoughtless woman tells her friend a secret mortal sin of a third person that she happens to know. She destroys the third person’s reputation and commits a kind of social murder. In itself what she has done is a mortal sin. It is an objective mortal sin. She may be saved by her thoughtlessness and ignorance, for it is amazing how thoughtless people can be and how ignorant they can remain in the face of all the effort made to instruct them.

Were she to stop to think for just a minute, she would realize the evil of what she is doing. But she is excused by her own ignorance.

If however a person remains deliberately ignorant, then of course his ignorance doesn’t excuse him.

Let’s take the example of a bank cashier who wants to steal. He knows that the stealing of a certain amount of money constitutes a mortal sin; but he determines not to find out what this amount is so that he won’t know and hence will not be guilty of mortal sin no matter how much he takes. Of course he has committed a mortal sin. His ignorance is deliberate, and he hides behind it so that he won’t be guilty. But you may be absolutely sure that he has not escaped the guilt-and he knows he hasn’t escaped it.

IS THERE ANYTHING WRONG WITH BIRTH CONTROL?

Of course I am not even going to pretend to answer that question. It has been answered a thousand times. I merely put the question in here to show how little attention some Catholics pay to what the Church teaches over and over again. I merely present this question, which was honestly included in a question box, because it indicates the abysmal ignorance which some Catholics seem to cultivate.

IS OUR LADY OF LORETTO THE PATRON OF AVIATORS? IF SO, WHY?

Yes she is. According to the ancient legend in the Church the house of Our Lady in the Holy Land was lifted and carried by angels through the air to its ultimate resting place at Loretto in Italy. This lovely tradition of a flight through the air became the basis of devotion of aviators to Our Blessed Lady of Loretto. They asked that the flight through the air be guarded by angels and by the sweet Lady of Loretto.

HOW SOON AFTER RECEIVING HOLY COMMUNION SHOULD THE HOST BE SWALLOWED? IS IT PERMITTED TO KEEP IT REVERENTLY UPON THE TONGUE?

One should swallow the Host as quickly as possible. A good rule is to swallow the Host before one leaves the Communion rail. If one allows the Host to dissolve upon the tongue, one may not really have received Holy Communion-although it is rather unlikely that the Host would be so completely dissolved that not even a small particle would enter the stomach and thus preserve the nature of the sacrament.

IT IS POSSIBLE TO OFFER HOLY COMMUNION FOR OTHERS?

I am a little puzzled at the fact that this question seems to appear so recurrently. Certainly it is possible to offer Holy Communion for others. During the time of Holy Communion we can pray especially for some person and ask the dear Saviour present in our hearts to make our Communion the occasion of His granting great graces to our friends.

Or during the time of Holy Communion we can ask the dear Lord to shorten the stay of our friends in purgatory.

WHEN AN ARGUMENT ABOUT RELIGION STARTS, SHOULD THE CATHOLIC PERSON PRESENT REMAIN PASSIVE? OR SHOULD HE AGGRESSIVELY UPHOLD THE CATHOLIC SIDE AND TAKE A PART IN THE ARGUMENT?

If he doesn’t take a part in the argument, he is either a coward or too ignorant of his religion to present it in any adequate fashion.

For a Catholic to sit passive while his religion is attacked is in the very same category as a son’s sitting passive while his mother’s honour is attacked. It would seem to indicate either that he believes the charge true or that he himself is too cowardly to enter a defence.

But on the other hand I sometimes shudder when uneducated, ignorant, or stupid Catholics rush to the defence of the Catholic religion, make fool statements, say things that are entirely wrong, and leave the non-Catholic worse off than he was before the argument began.

All this is just another way of saying that we must defend our religion but that first we must prepare ourselves to be worthy and intelligent defenders.

I HAVE NOT HEARD THAT NOTORIOUSLY IMMORAL BOOKS, OF WHICH I COULD GIVE A NUMBER OF OBSCENE INSTANCES, HAVE EVER BEEN PLACED ON THE INDEX. HOW CAN THIS BE EXPLAINED?

The Church very seldom bothers to place frankly obscene books on the Index. In some cases however it has done so, and by name. It is much more likely to place on the Index a book which is not obviously obscene but which expresses a philosophy of life that would be destructive if it were widely followed. It is more likely to place on the Index philosophical works which lay down general principles that are dangerous to society.

If a book is frankly immoral, filthy, and obscene, no one in his right mind needs to be warned against it. The minute he picks it up, he realizes that the book is an occasion of sin. But if the book is not explicitly against faith or morals but is subtle and insinuating, then a person in good faith might read it, be harmed by it, be filled with wrong principles, and never guess the harm that was being done to him. This is the type of book which the Index lists, since it is the kind of book whose character is misleading and whose effects are pernicious though often hidden.

So we can remember that: 1. There are general laws which forbid “books which openly deal with, describe, or teach lascivious or obscene matters.” This is the canon law. 2. Then there is the Index of Prohibited Books, which is a list of books forbidden by name. Some of these are obscene. Others are dangerous to faith and morals in a more subtle fashion.

All books that fall under either of these two classifications are forbidden to decent men and women.

I am a convert and have been in the Catholic Church for nearly five years. Now I find myself remembering sins of my pre-Catholic life. I cannot recall whether or not I confessed these sins at the time of my conversion. Am I obliged to confess them now?

Most assuredly not. You are never obliged to confess sins about which you are doubtful. If you are not sure whether or not you confessed them, forget them, and don’t let them disturb the happiness of your Catholic life.

A scrupulous person however under the direction and guidance of a confessor may be permitted to tell these doubtful sins for the peace of his conscience. A person in doubt may wisely take this up with a trusted confessor.

How do you account for the overwhelming numbers of followers who accept Confucius, Buddha, Mohammed? These religious leaders must have had something to offer, or so many people would not have been duped.

Undoubtedly even false or partially false religions have something to offer. Sometimes they have much to offer.

Man is incurably religious. He is always thirsty for religion. So when for some reason he does not find the true religion, he finds one that is partially true and accepts this as a substitute.

Confucius and Buddha, men of high moral principles, gave their followers a religion that made demands upon them, lifted their ideals, and put into their souls the ambition to be good and to perfect or improve their natures. Mohammed was wise enough to present a simple form of religion that, though it made few moral demands upon its followers, still had a code, a creed, and the promise of eternity.

It is sometimes surprising and always reassuring to see bow much of right and truth is found in even the falsest religions. The better among them seem to be not far away from the true religion of Christianity.

So even a false religion may give a man a glimpse of supernatural realities, a sense of his immortality, a faith in some divinity that shapes his end, and the hope of eternity. It may bold him back from vice and form him to virtue.

And even the falsest of the false religions proves all over again that man must have some kind of religion. As a general rule the people who accept false religions are likely to be better morally and in their spiritual aspirations than are people who accept no religion at all. Within those religions they find many elements of truth and much of morality.

Yet in the main these other religions make slight demands upon their followers. Conversion to these religions does not demand the great act of faith needed in a convert to the Christian faith. The morality called for by these religions does not impose the need for Christian sacrifice and heroic virtue. The ideals are not so exacting as those of Christ’s religion. Hence it often happens that the followers of these false religions find vestiges of religious satisfaction without the stern morality and exacting ideals demanded of Christians.

BY WHAT METHOD MAY A WORKING GIRL ARRIVE AT SANCTITY ?

No one else should have a simpler route to sanctity than the girl who is working for her living. She can offer up a laborious day in the knowledge that God will accept it gratefully. She can make her work, whatever it is, part of God’s plan for the happiness of.mankind. She can see in her employer, however ungrateful and ungracious he may be, a substitute whose orders and directions she accepts as if they were spoken to her by Christ Himself. The money that she earns is undoubtedly making other people happy-her family particularly, who most likely depend upon her in some measure for their necessities and comforts.

It is possible that because she is working she has an independence that makes attendance at religious services easier. She may even have a little left for charity out of her income or allowance.

She certainly can find during the course of her noon hour a moment to talk to God. No day is so busy that she cannot punctuate it with ejaculations. Her association with others gives infinite opportunity for charity and good example. Many a Catholic girl in shop or office has been a real apostle to those who knew nothing of religion.

Father LeBuffe always maintains that the simple secret of sanctity is this: to do well the job one has in hand. If this girl unites her job with Christ, offers her day to God, continues to be cheerful and smiling, and without ostentation sets herself to be an example of the full Catholic life, she can do marvellous things for God even as she is working for some human employer.

IS THERE ANY HARM IN ONE’S HAVING ONE’S FORTUNE TOLD?

The other day on a business street I passed a shop that had been taken over by a crew of Gypsies. Two poor, wretched, down-at-the-heels, slightly dirty women were on duty, one seated at the window and one standing in the doorway, soliciting patronage. I wondered how in heaven’s name anybody with sense would expect these broken-down failures to be guides to fortune and prophets of the future. Certainly they had not read the future very happily for themselves. They showed no signs of having been able to turn to their own financial or social advantage any foretelling of a rising stock market or the winning horse in the Kentucky Derby.

Of all the silly credulity of human beings, this trust in fortunetellers is the stupidest.

Is it wrong?

It certainly is wrong to believe that human beings possess a power which only God can have or God can give to His saintly representatives.

It is certainly wrong to encourage tricksters to dupe the ignorant and to deceive the flutter-brained.

It is certainly wrong to help maintain and sustain one of the shoddiest of professions and one of the most dishonest.

And it is certainly wrong to pay to creatures an awe and a faith that God alone deserves.

I have been wondering about my religious vocation. In fact I have prayed that I might have temptations so that I could overcome them and prove that I have a vocation. A very close friend of mine is praying that if I am not supposed to go to the convent I will meet some attractive person who will want to marry me. What do you think of this whole muddle?

I think that both you and your friend ought to visit a priest or a doctor, and I am not sure which one. What is the idea of praying for temptations? It’s the easiest thing in the world to find out whether or not you have a religious vocation. You don’t have to go through the harrowing experience of being forced to choose between the love of a man and the love of God.

Clearly this friend doesn’t want you to go to a convent; that is her i nterfering, busybody attitude. But if this attractive person comes along and you do fall in love, you have the choice of two courses. You can decide once and for all that you were never intended to be a religious, and I am not at all sure that that newborn love would prove anything of the sort. Or now with a new chain of love fastening you to the world, you must try to break away and start a new life as a religious.

I have never understood why people insist on making things so difficult for themselves.

IFYOU HAVEN’T COMMITTED A MORTAL SIN AND STILL WANT TO GO TO CONFESSION, WHAT DO YOU CONFESS?

You may confess any venial sin that you care to tell or any serious sin of your past life -confessed as a sin of your past life.

Don’t deprive yourself of a confession. Go whenever you feel the impulse. Remember that there is a special grace that comes from your confessing and new strength that you receive with every absolution.

If you want to direct your confession constructively, select some venial sin which you especially wish to overcome, and confess it. Or search your soul for that particular sin which is the cause of annoyance and trouble to others, and confess it. Your confession will then serve as an occasion for real character building.

Here is a man who has been a sinner all his life and on his deathbed gets the grace of a good confession. Here is another chap who has led a virtuous life for fifty years, commits one mortal sin, and dies without confession. The lifelong scamp gets heaven; the lifelong saint gets hell.

Of course this is purely an academic question. Did any such instances ever really happen? We know of one sinner, the good thief, who actually reached heaven in one leap from his death. But we don’t know positively of a single saint or holy man who went to hell after he had committed a single mortal sin. It may have happened. We have no proof that it did or did not happen, so it would be the easiest thing in the world merely to deny your facts or at least ask you to prove them.

Between a mortal sin and a lifetime of mortal sins however there is merely this difference: The lifetime prolongs the single act of the rejection of God. A man who commits a mortal sin tells God to get out of his life. He turns from God to evil and by that very fact chooses hell. If he has done this over a lifetime or if he has done it just once, the act itself is the same.

I am very glad that you feel that God is lenient with lifelong sinners. You are probably right. I am sorry if you feel that He is likely to be stern with lifelong saints. We have no proof of that.

But any mortal sin is a turning from God, complete and-for the time being at least-final. If death comes before confession or contrition, then hell is the fate of the sinner, the fate he chose for himself. This should give us a healthy respect for God and His Law and should make us careful.

You are evidently st rongly opposed to young people’s “going steady” until such time as they can think approximately of marriage. Yet you seem to think that a person can fall in love when he is about nineteen or twenty years old. Well suppose that I do fall in love with a boy that I have met recently. How do I know that he is all that he should be? If on the other hand I have known a boy since he was sixteen or seventeen years old and have gone out with him, I could be pretty sure that he is the kind of boy I want to marry. So I think that “going steady” is a safeguard for my marriage.

Yes I frankly dislike to see young people “going steady” until there is some possibility of their considering a marriage in the fairly near future. I think it limits their power of making friends. It makes them socially lazy. Their constant association with one person sharpens their temptations and may because of the constant opportunity make their physical urges stronger.

Most often the young person who “goes steady” during high school or the earl y years of college (or at an age that is the equivalent of these stages) does not marry the person he or she went with. Such young people give years of their lives to one person-and at a time when they should be meeting a great many people and learning to be friendly with people of a variety of temperaments and characters. They come to be so narrowed that they cannot dance with anyone but with the one person, who from long practice matches their intricate or off-the-beat steps.

This is just the sketchiest answer, for to me the idea of “going steady” is the prelude to marriage. Otherwise it is the lazy way that a boy concentrates on one girl or a girl allows one boy to monopolize her. It is the failure to develop one’s ability to make friends and be congenial with people. It is a sort of social monopoly, a social exclusiveness. Invariably in later years those who “went steady” wished they had swung out into a wider circle of friends.

It is by no means necessary to “go steady” in order to come to know a person . If a young person is a member of your social crowd, your club, the group with which you dance, play, talk, walk, you soon come to know a great deal about him or her. In fact you may eventually know more about him by seeing him in relationship to a crowd than by seeing him in relationship to yourself and your limited interests and taste.

I myself in my salad days was a member of several groups. I knew extremely well both the boys and the girls of those groups. It certainly was not necessary for me to concentrate on one person, go exclusively with her, bar others from that same personal association in order to come to know her well. The girl who in later years I knew best and upon whose family I later exercised the largest influence was during all the time that she belonged to our crowd engaged to a young man whom she eventually married. She was in her twenties though at the time.

The smart young man and the wise young woman associate socially during youthful days with a great many young people. They come to know as wide a gamut of personalities as they can. They watch their associates deal, not with a single individual-themselves-but with groups, crowds, individuals of widely varying temperaments and interests. And during all this group relationship they come to know the others in the crowd surprisingly well.

Indeed I believe they know these persons better than they would know the young person to whom they might have given an exclusive companionship, a restricted and a limited kind of companionship, an association certainly not full of varied life.

The days of youth are the days for many happy friendships and many charming people. Don’t cramp your style by allowing or practising a monopoly.

MAY A CATHOLIC ACT AS GODFATHER IN THE BAPTISM OF A NON-CATHOLIC IN A PROTESTANT CHURCH?

It seems to me that the question almost answers itself. A Protestant baptism is a religious service. Catholics are not allowed to take part in religious services of other religions.

Quite aside from that however a godparent, by the fact of his being a sponsor, promises that the child will be educated in the true religion. So in the case you indicate, you would have this amazingly contradictory situation: You, a Catholic, would be promising God that the child would be educated in the true religion, although at the very time of your promise he was being baptized into a false one. It doesn’t make sense, does it?

MAY A CATHOLIC BE GODPARENT FOR A CHILD WHO IS NOT LIKELY TO BE BROUGHT UP A CATHOLIC?

When a person becomes a sponsor, he undertakes a real responsibility. He agrees, as you remember from your catechism, that he will see that the child is brought up a Catholic if the parents decline this responsibility or happen to die.

Now if the Catholic sponsors know very well that the parents will make it impossible for the child to be a practical Catholic and will not allow the godparents to enter the picture to fulfil their obligation, naturally enough they cannot accept this office. This simply means that they cannot accept the responsibility, which they could not possibly fulfil.

On the other hand if you should happen to know that the parents are weak Catholics but would not object to your educating the child in the Catholic faith, you might possibly be doing an apostolic work if you became a sponsor for the child. But you should explain then to the parents that you take your duty seriously and really intend to see that the child is reared a good Catholic.

In this it is more than likely you might be saving the soul of the child.

It may be however that the whole question is purely academic. No priest would baptize a child about whose future Catholic upbringing he had serious doubt.

If it should happen that you are sure that the child will not be brought up in the faith, you would be doing your simple duty if you talked it over with the priest who was asked to baptize the child. He probably doesn’t know the circumstances. Knowing them, he would take a great many steps to make sure of the child’s future Catholicity before he poured the waters of baptism.

I AM HOPING TO BECOME A SISTER SOME DAY. I REALLY LOVE TO MEET PEOPLE, BUT I JUST CAN’T MAKE MYSELF DO SO. WILL THIS INABILITY TO MEET PEOPLE BE AN IMPEDIMENT TO MY FUTURE WORK?

The inability to meet people is always an impediment. Unless you intend to be a contemplative nun, you are going to spend a large part of your life meeting people and dealing with them. So it is a shame if you let your shyness and timidity get between you and people, whom you should later on influence.

I would strongly recommend at least a simple social life. Be sure to drop into the living room when the family has visitors, and meet them. When you are invited out, accept the invitation. If you feel that you are going to be shy, think in advance a little about subjects to discuss, comments to make, or contributions that you can make to the conversation.

Remember that talk is not the only thing necessary to make people feel at home with you. A pleasant smile is often more than an equivalent for conversation. The ability to listen well, to ask the right questions which draw out the other person’s spontaneous, interested comments is something that can be developed.

But don’t let shyness get its grip on you. It is certainly no moral wrong, yet it is or can be a handicap for a religious.

You will be very wise quite calmly to appraise your own good qualities. If you have a fair measure of good looks, don’t hesitate to cultivate them. If you have a talent, be quite willing to use it socially. Listen to people who talk well, and find out how they do it-with the purpose of doing the same yourself. And cultivate that sweet charity and willingness to do things for others which are far more important than brilliance in conversation or the ability to do parlour tricks.

Few other things are greater assets to religious life than is the ability to deal with people. The happy, socially-minded religious is an enormous asset in a community and a joy in the recreation room. Cultivate that art among your relatives, your friends, and your acquaintances. It will make you a better religious,

I AM READING A BOOK THAT TELLS “THE FACTS OF LIFE” VERY FRANKLY. I AM READING IT WITH THE INTENT ION TO GAIN KNOWLEDGE AND NOT FOR ANY SATISFACTION I MIGHT GET FROM READING. IS THIS WRONG?

It is impossible for me to answer this question without my seeing you face to face. How old are you? Have you no mother or father or priest friend or nun confidante or family doctor to whom you could go for this information? Is the book Catholic in tone or thoroughly pagan? Are you shortly to be married or is marriage a long way off?

Unfortunately during the period of youth many a young person has a quite literally burning curiosity. Millions of copies of these “sex books” are got out, not in any honest desire to give information that will be of help in the living of a rich and wholesome life, but simply to satisfy the curiosity of young people. And even there the word satisfy is incorrect. The proper words would be stimulate, increase, and fire the interests of youngsters in subjects which they need never come close to until they have reached the age when marriage is near at hand.

DO YOU THINK IT POSSIBLE FOR A MATURE WOMAN WHO HAS GONE OUT VERY LITTLE SOCIALLY TO FALL IN LOVE WITH THE FIRST MAN WHO TAKES HER OUT?

My inclination is to say that it is not only possible but probable. Apparently there is no age limit to love. People fall in love quite late in life and marry sometimes very happily the men or women they meet in their very mature years.

It is possible that a person who is destined by God and nature for marriage never during the course of a quite long life meets anyone suitable at the times when marriage was possible. Later on the right person comes along; they fall in love, marry, and spend their autumnal years in deep peace and happiness.

Theirs is not likely to be the romantic passion of youth. Instead they may know a very splendid companionship and a deep and contented love.

IF YOU KNOW AND GO OUT WITH YOUNG PEOPLE WHO DRINK AND “NECK,” AND YOU DON’T DO THESE THINGS, IS THERE THE POSSIBILITY THAT YOU WILL BE ABLE TO REFORM THEM?

It is of course possible; but the chances are ten to one that if any changes are made they will be the changes that the drinkers and the “neckers” will make in you. Good example is in the long run a powerful force. In the short run bad example seems to have the more immediate effect.

I can imagine nothing duller than your sitting sipping a soft drink in the company of those who are getting themselves “high,” if not positively drunk. To the drunk all jokes are funny. To the person who is cold sober the humour of a drunk is about the wettest, stupidest drivel in the world. And I should imagine that it would be a little difficult to sit around discussing books, the victory garden, and politics while the rest of the young people were “necking.”

Isn’t it possible for you to find young people who like the things that you like and do the things that you want to do? The world is really full of such people. Why should you go around with a crowd in which you, right and decent though you are, are the one who seems to be out of step?

Would a confession be void if the confessor was deaf and the penitent felt that the confessor would as a consequence be easier on him than would the other priests who were hearing confessions in the same church?

If a priest is allowed to hear confessions, you are perfectly safe to take it for granted that he can hear what you tell him. The confessional is a very intimate place, and the voice carries easily over the brief distance that is marked by the grill. So if the confessor is in his confessional, if you tell you sins in your normal confessional voice, and if he does not show clear signs that he cannot hear you, you don’t need to worry in the least.

We don’t need to worry much about deaf confessors. Seldom does a priest miss anything that is told him in the confessional; and when he does miss something, he invariably asks that the statement be repeated.

Nihil Obstat:

BERNARD O”CONNOR Diocesan Censor.

Imprimatur:

@ D. MANNIX,

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis. 27th April, 1960

********

At Mass With Mary

JOHN SEXTON KENNEDY

INDEX

A glory of new stars, downward flung

And forged into seven swords, has stung

The heart of the Woman whom I pass

On my way to the altar for morning Mass.

There is no shrill crowd, there are no hoarse cries,

But I meet One bearing a cross in her eyes.

JOHN SEXTON KENNEDY

FOREWORD

Those people who twenty centuries ago were present on Calvary because they hated Jesus Christ paid more attention to the sacrifice of the cross than do most of us who are Sunday after Sunday present at Mass because we love Jesus Christ. This is a fact at once startling and sobering. At the beginning of each week we and many, many like us take our places before a thousand altars, and, as the great Action wherein Christ intended that we should, each of us, intensively participate, proceeds, we stand, kneel, sit absently. For us the Mass remains the measured movements, the mystifying mumblings of a remote, brightly clad figure. And so we are paupers in the midst of plenty, drought-ruined in a land of living waters; we miss the full worth of this unique means of best paying our debts to God, this unique means too of best building up and improving our poor, uncertain lives.

What are we to do? Methods of hearing Mass well are numerous. Some have been explained to us. We have found them involved, almost baffling. What is most difficult is to keep well focused the basic truth that the Sacrifice of the Mass is really the same sacrifice as that of Calvary. In the absence of glittering spears, strained and distorted faces, hideous cries, a grim cross we utterly forget that we attend the crucifixion of Christ. Could we but sufficiently appreciate the fact, our problem of keeping attentive, devout at Mass would be solved. As a means to this end, a means not indeed perfect but if earnestly tried quite effective, we are suggesting the effort to hear Mass with Mary. The lessons which we can learn from Our Blessed Lady are quite beyond numbering; none of them is simpler or of greater value than that of worthy assistance at holy Mass. Herein we shall consider first the thorough excellence of Mary’s following of the first Mass, and then the value to us of her exceptional example.

UNION OF INTENTIONS

No one of us countless Christians who have come after her has ever heard Mass as well as Mary did on Calvary. No one of us has ever heard Mass under precisely the same circumstances as she. True the sacrifice of our altars is the same as that of the great, gaunt cross; but the rending of the body she had borne, delivered, nursed at her breast, the spilling of the Precious Blood which had had its fountain source in the quiet places of her heart were not screened from Mary’s eyes, as they are from ours, by the appearances of bread and wine. They were present to her in brutal, unescapable reality. However this fact contributed least to the perfection of Our Blessed Lady’s participation in the holy sacrifice. Contributing infinitely more were acts of her mind and of her will.

She realized that the exquisite fruit of her womb, utterly crushed by slow suffering, was God, only Son of the unsired Father. She realized that He was dying to undo the sins of the ages. She recognized here the culmination of the conflict between divine love and sin.Sin had been man’s answer to God’s love; love, abandoned to sacrifice, was now God’s answer to man’s sin. Penetrating the meaning, the worth of this sacrifice,

Mary bowed her will to that of God the Father, united her breaking heart with that of the dying Christ, and heroically prayed that the unimaginable agony of the cross might not be in vain.

These acts of Our Blessed Lady we can profitably and without difficulty imitate in our assistance at holy Mass. We know that what takes place at the hands of the priests at our altars is what took place at the hands of the soldiers on the desolate hill outside Jerusalem twenty centuries ago. We know that He who suffers so is God of very God. We know that He goes down silent to an appalling death to save us from sin. And so as we kneel in the presence of this great oblation of God to God, we shall be with Mary. Wherever, whenever the cross is set up, she stands beneath it. She will help us to attend well and profit by its surpassing mystery.

CONFITEOR

Mass begins with a solemn confession of guilt. In the Confiteor, said twice before the priest goes up to the spotless altar (once by him, once by the boy in the name of all of us present), the reason for the Mass is set forth; the tone, the chief quality of our participation is suggested. The great sin of our day is the casual assumption that there is no sin.

But Mary, without sin though she was, appreciates its stinging reality. Sin it was which had torn the singing stars down from the Bethlehem night sky to beat them into seven swords and here to plunge the last of them into her wrung soul. Sin it was, our sin, which alone separated sinless Son and Immaculate Mother, flinging Him on a cross to die, leaving her in tears at its foot. And as we kneel at the renewal of His staggering sacrifice, we know in our hearts that there is such a thing as sin. We know because we have been guilty of it. We have turned away from God Our Father. The light has gone out of our lives, and we cannot find our way back to Him. To light that way, a savage spear-thrust had to tear open the fierce furnace of love burning in the breast of a dying God. And only so was reconciliation made possible.

That reconciliation is in the Mass about to be renewed in all its sufficiency, in all its fullness. While the priest mounts the altar steps, as Jesus did the arid hill, Mary reminds us of the treasures that are ours for the asking. Prompted by her, we acknowledge the sins which we so much regret; we heap them upon the back of the priest; we beg for forgiveness, for healing, for strength against future temptation.

INTROIT AND KYRIE

The priest first reads the Introit. This varies from day to day. Generally it consists of a few words from the Old Testament; words rich in memories, often on the lips of God-fearing men during the long centuries before the coming of Christ; words which watered wilted hopes and fed those who looked with hungry eyes for the dawning of the day which would see the dominion of sin shattered and men reconciled with their Father; words familiar to Mary, lovingly repeated by her as she awaited the advent of the blessed Messias.

Moving to the centre of the altar, the priest gives utterance to an ancient prayer, simple but grave with significance: “Lord, have mercy on us!” It is the cry of the sin-oppressed, the cry of those who are lost in the night of human weakness and terrified by the realization, the voice of one saying:

Cry!

And I said: What shall I cry?

All flesh is grass, and the glory thereof as the flower of the field.

The grass is withered, and the flower fallen.

But the mercy of God endureth forever!

With Mary in her humble home we say, “Lord, have mercy on us!”

And instant He is in mercy, instant and bountiful.

Be comforted, be comforted, my people, saith your God.

Speak ye to the heart of Jerusalem and call to her;

For her evil is come to an end; her iniquity is forgiven.

To save men from their fallen selves, God, so loving the world, promises salvation.

GLORIA

And in the pregnant quiet of Nazareth a Virgin’s womb comes thrillingly alive with incarnate love. Mary is miracu- lously with child. She moves unknown, unnoticed down through the land of promise, through the very midst of those who are groaning for deliverance. And between the night’s end and the day’s beginning, under a roof of rock, in a lonely hillside cave Mary brings forth the Son of God, flesh-bound, and lays Him in a bin where oxen feed. High in the shining night wondering angels sing, and it is their song which the priest next takes up: “Glory to God in the highest and, at long last, peace to men. We adore thee; we bless thee.” God has given us His only Son. Can we adequately phrase our gratitude? “We give thee thanks, O God the Father, and thee, Lamb of God, come to bear away the sins of the world.”

EPISTLE AND GOSPEL

How to live in and by the eternal Son made man, as Mary did in the cloistered peace of the Holy Family, we learn from the Epistle. And as the Gospel is read, we stand with Mary on the fringe of the dusty, eager-faced throng that the words of the eternal Word rouse like lightning flashes or the shouts of a lusty wind.

CREDO

After the Gospel comes the Creed, that sweeping, majestic act of faith in Christ and the truths He proclaimed by the lakeside. The awed Elizabeth had said to Mary: “Blessed art thou who hast believed.” And we, as soon as we have heard the magnificent message of Him whom Mary bore, are at once reminded that however naturally attractive the message may seem proper acceptance of it, worthy and fruitful living by it require divine faith. Our Blessed Lord Himself says:

For God so loved the world that He sent His only-begotten Son,

That whosoever believeth in Him may not perish, but may have everlasting life.

He that believeth in me is not judged. He that believeth not is already judged:

Because he hath not believed in the name of the only-begotten Son of God.

Christ demands faith of us that we may carry Him into the sharp tests and crises of our every day, involving as they do temptation and sin. Christ demands faith of His Mother and His disciples that at the dramatic, humanly bewildering finish of His life they may stand firm and not fall miserably away.

OFFERTORY

The finish of His life, the sacrifice that was to set the solemn seal on His mission of saving us from sin, is at once foreshadowed in the priest’s next action, the offering of the bread and the wine. Our thoughts seek out Gethsemani, the moon-swept garden where the Son of Mary, come to earth in a new and more humiliating sense, lies motionless under the crushing weight of human guilt there in the blood-wet grass. He is giving His all. God is yielding up His infinitude to the limits set by three nails and a thorny crown. He is making to God the Father the surrender of His body to be broken, His blood to be poured out. This for us. Where Mary is during this endless night, we do not know. Wherever she is, her heart, ready now for the final thrust of that sword foreseen by Simeon as sunk deep into it, is upraised to the hidden face of God the Father; and she prays, as we must pray inall things trifling or tremendous: “Thy will be done. That sin may be atoned for; that it may cease to stand as a barrier between us and thee that every sacrifice linked with that of Jesus Christ Thy Son may be availing unto life everlasting; Thy Will be done!”

CONSECRATION

The accomplishment of that will is manifest as the Mass moves forward to the Consecration. With Mary we are silent, wrapped up in wordless prayer, as the body of Christ is breathed into the bread, His precious blood into the wine. They are lifted up-the body and the blood of Jesus Christ, elements of sacrifice. The one is drained of the other, separated in the condition of redeeming death. We adore.

PATER NOSTER

Now that the Sacrifice has been outwardly realized, there pours from Mary’s lips, from our lips, the prayer taught us by Him slain for us, the perfect prayer to the offended Father placated by His obedient Son: “Our Father . . . thy kingdom come; thy will be done . . . forgive us our trespasses. . . .”

AGNUS DEI

Under Mary’s brimming eyes, the spear is run through the heart which has ceased to quiver with the agonizing urgency of its love, and the body of Christ is broken, the price of our peace. The priest says the Agnus Dei: “Lamb of God, who at such great cost dost bear away the sins of the world, have mercy on us; give us peace.”

COMMUNION

As the disturbing dusk sets in, the body of Christ is taken down from the cross and laid in Mary’s arms. She looks into the wasted face with its mask of blood and sweat, spittle and dust and tears. She looks at the arms and legs, bloodless: and stiff and cold. The victim is utterly destroyed. And Simeon’s sword is now thrust ruthlessly into her tender heart. She has nowhere to lay Him, this victim of sin, her first-born. From her aching arms He is hurried with scant ceremony into a stranger’s tomb. Mary has: recovered Him but briefly, and that only in death, only in her arms. She who loves Him loses Him. And we, unworthy, receive Him in communion into our hearts, to live within us, to intensify the friendship of God so dearly bought by Him, to remain with us forever.

THANKSGIVING

Communion finished, the priest reads prayers for our perseverance in the dispositions which attendance at Mass with Mary has fostered. Then with a blessing he bids us go-as the cross, bare but eloquent against the soft, spring twilight, bids Mary go-back to the everyday ways of life, with the remembrance of what we have shared driving us to Christian living. And the Mass will be with us through the monotonous days-as it was with Mary during the long years after the death of her Son-a source of strength, a principle of life. It will be with us in the grey mornings when, perhaps ill, we go off to tiring occupation which may at any. time be taken from us; it will be with us in the moment of temptation, when we are seized and shaken and our whole being seems irresistibly drawn to ruinous evil; it will be with us in the time of misunderstanding and piercing disappointment, when our every act is misjudged and there is no one too lowly to cast at us a stone of rebuke or of ridicule; it will be with us in the hour of bottomless sorrow, when all that warms and colours life falls to dust and all that was wonderfully sweet becomes as gall to the taste.

Then will the Mass be with us, to soothe and solace, to save us from sin, to confirm us in the grace purchased by the quenching of the Light of the World.

LAST GOSPEL

Finally there is the Last Gospel, a perfect resume of the purpose and meaning of the Mass just offered, set at the end to balance the Confiteor at its beginning.

The Word was made flesh.

The light shineth in darkness. . . .

He was in the world, and the world was made by Him, and the world knew Him not. . . .

He came unto His own, and His own received Him not. . . .

Today He comes to us, His own, to us won back from perdition by His blood. May it never be said of us: “He came unto His own, and His own received Him not.”

Rather, as we go forth, grateful and thoughtful, let us remember that we

Are born, not of blood, nor of the will of the flesh,

Nor of the will of man,

But of God . . . In Him is life.

Imprimi potest:

SAMUEL HORINE, S. J

Praep. Prov. Missourianae

Nihil obstat:

F. J. Holweck Censor Librorum

Imprimatur:

@ Joannes J. Glennon

Archiepiscopus Sti. Ludovici Sti. Ludovici, die 3 Maii 1935

********

At Prayer

BEDE JARRETT, O. P

INDEX

INTRODUCTION

In these pages are gathered together from Father Bede Jarrett’s Meditations for Lay-folk some thoughts which will help us to understand and practise prayer better and better; an urgent need for all, because nothing is more important in our daily lives than prayer.

Prayer is as necessary for the supernatural life of the soul as the air we breathe is for the life of the body. When we pray, we most truly live. To pray in union with the prayer of Christ is to co-operate gloriously with the divine power that rules creation. Prayer is more powerful than wealth or knowledge-a greater force than all the material forces of the world combined; for prayer is a supernatural force: its efficacy comes from God, from the infinite merits of Christ. Prayer can obtain what only God can give-grace, pardon, the love of God, and eternal life which is the very end and purpose of the divine plan.

Especially in our own sad days is prayer needed when so many perils threaten the peace and unity of the world. Prayer will remind us that we live not only under the rule of the princes of this world, but under the government of the infinitely wise God who only permits evil in order to bring about ultimate good and whose will it is that we should be one with Him through Christ in sincere, humble, confiding, persevering prayer. Pope Pius XI in a letter addressed to the world invites all to work and pray more insistently for the triumph of God’s Kingdom. The prayer of a humble soul, he says, is a more powerful influence than the wisdom of philosophers and statesmen because it keeps alive in the world the idea of God.

BERNARD DELANY, O.P

THE UPRAISING OF THE MIND

I. Prayer must be Intelligent

Prayer has been defined to be the raising up of the mind and heart to God; but it would be more descriptive, and perhaps more accurate, to say that it is the raising up of the heart through the mind to God; for it is a commonplace of conversion that knowledge precedes love. It is true, of course, that the opposite statement would be equally valid, for I cannot know anyone till I am in love (i.e. in sympathy) with them. But though this is so, I must still begin by having some rudimentary knowledge of the existence of that which I love; that is to say, I must at least know of a thing before I can love it. Since, then, prayer means getting into communication with God, it is clear that I have always, consciously or not, to get into my mind some truth about God. Let us suppose a mother is praying to God to save her son from peril. She really has convinced herself (either deliberately or simply, without realizing what she is doing) of two quite definite things: firstly, that God is certainly able to help her; and, secondly, that He can be affected by her loneliness and desolation of heart. In other words, she is holding to two dogmatic truths-the omnipotence and mercy of God. And whenever we analyse prayer, our own or another’s, we shall find that at the back of it lies some truth about God which we or they have accepted; and it is only because of that particular truth that we turn to that particular prayer. Thus, again, we often praise God because of His greatness, etc.; i.e., we first believe Him to be great and then praise Him for it; but belief, in any case, comes first. Unless I believed in His mercy or His power or His justice or beauty, or one or other of His many attributes, I should never turn to Him at all.

II. Prayer Based on Faith

Notice that in all this the word “belief” is used, for our real knowledge of God as He is in Himself comes to us only by faith. Reason can (says the Council of the Vatican) prove the existence of God; but it is at least possible that my reason never has proved it. My reason may never feel convinced by its own reasoning. In any case the real knowledge of God as a supernatural power, with the full heights and depths of His Divine life, cannot obviously be attained to by the reason, except in so far as it is illumined by supernatural light; and it is just this supernatural light that we call faith. It is a vision. No doubt it is true, as Cardinal Newman has admirably phrased it, that the act of faith is partly an act of will. There must be the wish to believe at the back of me, a movement of the grace of God. All the arguments in the world cannot prove the supernatural status of the Church, for arguments are obviously rational, whereas the supernatural transcends reason. Ultimately, therefore, the mind that says, “I believe,” does so because its reason shows that the Church is eminently credible; and its will takes the one further step (“the leap in the dark”), and, under the direct interference of God, completes the act by asserting: “I must believe.” Yet in spite of the fact that this act of will is essential, the gift of faith is still in its purpose and in its effect an enlightenment, an apocalypse, a revelation. This vision is an entrance into the kingdom of truth, for it tells us about God and the soul, this life and the after-life. We become as little children in implicit obedience, and gain also the clear sight of a child. Prayer, then, is based on the knowledge of God, therefore on revelation, therefore on faith.

III. Living Faith will move me to Pray

Consequently when I look at my prayers I must see what part faith or the Creed plays in them. I must get my faith quite clear, or at least as clear as I can, before I can settle down to pray. Before the Crib, or before the Tabernacle, I must begin by making myself conscious of what exactly I believe. I must go over in my mind the significance of the Incarnation; why did He come? what purpose had He in coming? what was He going to effect? what motive had He in coming? etc. I fix upon one single point and try to see really what I know about it. He came, for example, to redeem me. Yes, but what does Redemption mean? It is a common word, frequently on my lips; do I realize what it implies? . . . and so on. This is the only way to pray. Perhaps I begin at once in prayer by thanking or asking or praising; then I find I have nothing more to say; I am used up. Really I have begun all wrong; I have begun in the middle. Let me start always by some act of faith, and then go on quite slowly. Notice the liturgical prayers of the Church. They begin generally in some such fashion as this: “O God, who by the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ,” etc., i.e., they begin from some dogmatic truth. So, again, Our Lord’s own prayer, “ Our Father who art in Heaven.” This, too, is a piece of information which faith alone makes known to me. If I leave faith aside, no wonder my prayers are dull, monotonous, a bore to me. But, then, I shall have to learn all about my faith? Certainly: I must go back to my catechism. I shall find prayer growing easier as my knowledge of God increases. The two run parallel, prayer and faith; the absence of either, or their disuse, paralyses the practice of the other.

THE UPRAISING OF THE HEART

I. Knowledge and Love Intermingled

The first act of prayer is .knowledge, the second is love; for I must always remember that the ultimate purpose of prayer, as of all spiritual life, is to get into union with God. For that end was I created, and to that end I must turn all and every supernatural enlightenment. Love is always the end of acquaintanceship with that which is perfect. I know my friends-with a deep and true knowledge, and the knowledge does not remain as though separated off in some separate compartment, having no influence upon life. I know their kindness, generosity, loyalty; and this makes my love itself without any deliberate act on my part increase also very considerably. Just as, again, the more I see the beauty of a thing or a person, the more I am attracted by it. The word “attracted” is very appropriate, for it shows what has happened: the thing or person, in consequence of the increasing evidence of its beauty, actually draws me to it: it does not come into me, but leads me to it. Thus theologians who describe the Beatific Vision of eternal bliss tell us that the real act of possession is an act of intellect; but that once we have with our minds seen God, we cannot help loving Him. Really, no doubt, the reason is that the division of mind from heart is purely artificial; they are both mere functions of the same indivisible soul, which, when once it knows what is lovable, loves it by the same energy. The very appearance of beauty produces its own effect. In prayer, then, we begin by contemplating some fixed mystery or truth, and our heart then burns within us.

II. Prayer not a Science but a Life

In other words, prayer is not an abstract science or art, but a handicraft of life. It is no use for me to set out in order, however elaborately, article after article of belief: the Mediaevals said: “God taketh not delight in logic”-that is, there is no prayer, no union with God, in merely tabulating our knowledge of Him and describing it accurately, and remembering it in great detail. All that would be possible without prayer; prayer means that the heart, too, has been touched. The Psalmist sang: “From my heart broke the good word”; and, again, “a flame burst forth.” It is not prayer, therefore, when I merely weave theological patterns out of the truths of faith; but it is prayer when, contemplating God as revealed to me, I find Him to be so lovable that my heart longs for His company and for the return of His sympathy. Nor should this be difficult. Any scene in the life of my Divine Master, as recorded in the Gospels, must, as I study it, make more and more evident to me His mercy, His gentleness with sinners who are conscious of their sin, His meekness and humbleness of heart; and as these become more and more evident, surely my love will follow. So also the mere contemplation of any article of the Creed must certainly light up the depths of the mysteries of God at least sufficiently to let us see how really beautiful they must be. The mind explores all these wonderful things only to draw the heart more deeply after it. The mind lights up the loveliness within, and the heart is aflame with the vision disclosed. No one can gaze for long at something which is genuinely beautiful without being caught up in the rapture which the spell of its loveliness must cast.

III. Prayer need not be Emotional

While, then, I recognize that faith in prayer is intended to lead me on to love, this does not mean that I must wait for a great flame to burst forth. This is, indeed, a matter about which I must be most careful, for I may discourage myself or be led astray by delaying for too long or rushing too impetuously along. By “love,” “rapture,” “ablaze,” nothing more is meant than an inclination to follow God’s commandments and live as faith prescribes. It has nothing to do with feelings, emotions. It does not mean that I do not pray if I do not feel love for God in the same way as I feel love for my friends, or that I must go on working out the particular mystery or article of belief until my whole being is stirred and raised to a white-heat of devotion. I am only a beggar, and cannot be a chooser; I must be content with the crumbs that fall from the table of God. No physical delight or appreciation of God’s nearness to me is needed, nor is it in any way a sign that my prayer is fruitful; for this may depend rather upon digestion than upon the love of God; in fact the very absence of it may make prayer, bravely persisted in, all the more pleasing in the sight of the Most High. Here, then, the upraising of heart that should follow upon the heels of faith may be unfelt, even unconscious. It is shown rather in the day’s work than in the moment’s emotions. “If you love Me, keep My commandments. . . . Not he that saith to Me, ‘Lord, Lord!’ but he that doth the will of My Father, shall enter into the kingdom of heaven.” These are the proofs of our genuineness in prayer. Anyway, I must be satisfied with what is given me, nor should I seek to say much. The prayer in the Garden was but the repetition between long silences of one single petition. By faith, then, is His beauty unveiled; and the vision of this beauty sets my heart on fire with love.

THE METHOD OF PRAYER

I. Friendly Converse with God

The whole doctrine of prayer from its practical standpoint can be summed up by saying that it is talking to God as a friend talks with a friend. That is, indeed, the best test of my prayers. Should I venture to talk to anyone I was fond of in the way I talk to God? We read in Scripture of God walking and talking with Adam in the cool of the evening, and we say to ourselves: “That is perfect prayer.” What does it matter in what shape God appeared, or whether He appeared at all! At least imagination grasps what the sacred author intended. Or, again, when we find it written of Enoch that he walked with God till God took him,” we say that our ideal of prayer could not be better described. Or lastly, for the quotations could be multiplied to any extent, when we first come across this wonderful sentence, are we not immediately conscious of what is meant: “God spoke to Moses, face to face, as a man is wont to speak to his friend.” Now here we have in a very brief epitome all that, from a practical point of view, we need to know about prayer. It is simply the converse between my soul and God, to be carried on in precisely the same fashion of language and the same pregnant silences that characterize my own talks with my friends. These must be the models by which I individually test the value and the sincerity of my prayers. Nothing else will do, nor will anything else for long hold or attract me. Prayers will ultimately bore me unless I carefully follow out these directions. First, then, the matter of prayer is originated by the mind out of the articles of faith, and the result is that the heart leaps up to love God in consequence, and this love itself is expressed in the simple language and silences of friendship.

II. As Simple and Natural as Talking

Now this “talking as a friend” involves certain consequences. It involves a view of prayer that should make it very much more easy for me. For example, prayer must be perfectly natural. I must speak to God in my own language, or else I cannot hope to pray frequently nor well. I may in my life ape the thoughts and style of another, but only for a while, since I soon wear his garments threadbare or show occasionally the real clothing that is beneath. My conversation with friends is perfectly easy. I have no character to keep up with them; they know me too well to be taken in by what I do not mean, and will not be at all impressed by any pose. So with them I lay all that aside, and appear as they know me to be. I say exactly what I think in the language that is most spontaneous and natural to me. Let me see, then, that the same naturalness is to be seen in my prayers. If my temperament is emotional, my prayers should be emotional; but if by temperament I am very matter-of-fact, what good would there be in my attempting to use the rapturous language of ecstasy? The sooner I learn that I cannot fit myself in to another’s prayers, the better for my own peace of soul. They will either be too large or too small; in any case will only hamper my movements. Just as ready-made boots do not fit, so neither do ready-made prayers: the former blister the feet, the latter blister the soul. My prayers should therefore be my own, and I should ask only for what I honestly want. It is a mockery to ask God to take me to Himself if I cannot really say that I want to go; and it is a lie to speak of myself as the greatest sinner in the world if I know that I certainly am not.

III. Prayer has its Silences

Quite honestly, then, I will speak to God in prayer as a friend speaks with a friend. That at least will be my ideal, and I shall do nothing deliberately that conflicts with it. Am I, therefore, to cast aside all my prayer-books? Not at all. It is true that as far as possible I should endeavour to do without them, for surely my needs, my reasons for thankfulness, and the motives that I have for praising God, should supply me with abundance of material for talking to Him. But undoubtedly from time to time I do find myself strangely silent; perhaps I am really only very tired. Still, it is helpful always to have a book, provided that we realize it to be merely a model and not the only way. Yet even here, at these times when our hearts can say nothing from sheer weariness, or from whatever other cause, we should still keep to our test and use the privilege of friendship. For surely one chief way in which friends differ from acquaintances is that we can be silent with friends, but allow no pause in the conversation when we are with an acquaintance: should this last happen, we grow uncomfortable and cast about for something to talk about, but to be in the friend’s presence is joy enough. Conscious of each other, we are content; walking side by side, we may say never a word, “make” no conversation; or sit, as on either side of the fireplace sit old cronies, speaking not at all, yet happy. For silence expresses things too large to be packed into language; and out of the fulness of the heart the mouth most often cannot speak. Hence, when I come to Communion, or make a visit to my Friend and find I have nothing to say, let me say nothing, be silent, wait for Him to speak; at least be glad that I am near Him.

DISTRACTIONS

I. Distractions to be Expected

It is a constant source of annoyance to find how full of distraction our best prayers become. Hardly have I settled down to my devotions, made the sign of the Cross, and put myself in the presence of God, than I begin to find myself overwhelmed by endless thoughts which have no connection with my prayers. I suddenly wake to discover that my mind has been wandering along, considering all the businesses of my life, my anxieties, my hopes and ambitions. As soon as I am conscious of this, I go back to my prayers and endeavour once again to get into conversation with God. Nor shall I find, unless I am rather unusual, that even now I am really any more safe than when I began; probably the whole time I am on my knees my mind is practically occupied with the troublesome task of disengaging itself from thoughts that it has no desire to consider. At Mass or Holy Communion it is possible that I have longer intervals of devout contemplation; but even during these sacred moments souls that are really longing to love God with fervour and generosity are not seldom absolutely overborne by the inrush of distractions.

All this is troublesome and distressing to me, but that is all; troublesome and distressing to me, but not sinful: for sin implies a determination and deliberation that are here obviously absent. The only harmful result can be when I am so wearied by my incessant struggles, so impatient at the apparent emptiness of all my prayers, that I finally in sheer disgust give up the whole attempt, in the thought that I was not meant by God for this kind of exercise.

II Distractions not necessarily Sinful

Now though it is exceedingly troublesome to have to wage war thus endlessly throughout all my praying time, it is certainly not at all to be unexpected. From a purely natural point of view, from the physical aspect of it, it seems certain that once I put myself in a state of quietness and have no very definite movement to catch and hold my attention, all the deeper and noisier interests of my life will at once spring into renewed activity. I have silenced the outward clash and clamour of existence, and the persistent inward battle-cries are bound to make themselves heard. I may have paid no attention to them, but they were there all the time; much as I lose the consciousness of the ticking of the clock, and only the ensuing silence reminds me that all the time it was really heard, but not attended to. Much in the same fashion, merely entering into church or kneeling quietly in my room, I am in reality allowing the repeating echo of my anxieties to be heard: all the interests of the day and the deeper mental impressions have been stored by that subconscious memory which never forgets. There is, then, nothing unexpected in all this, for it is the release of perfectly natural energies; and, what is more important, there is nothing sinful, for sin implies wilfulness. Now it is clear that whatever direct wilfulness there is, whatever will there is, consists in the effort with which I endeavour to get back to my prayers; for the whole trouble of distractions is that they come of themselves, and involve no effort whatever. Distractions, therefore, are not ordinarily sinful, and only become so when, grown conscious of their presence, we deliberately pursue them.

III. Be Patient with Distractions

When, then, do distractions come to us from the evil one, if they are not sinful? To this we may best make answer by saying that they do not all come from the evil one, but arise quite simply from purely natural reasons such as we have already described; and they can be only indirectly traced to the devil in the sense that the weakness of our mind is due to the effects of sin, original and actual sin. But of course every way of assault comes to the hands of the spirit of evil; and these may quite easily make use of distractions which are not in themselves sinful: for the effect of all these troublesome interruptions of prayer on souls timid and impatient is to make them inclined to give up prayer. They are a great source of discouragement, and whatever tends to depress the human spirit is the very best ally that the devil can have. He counts on all this, and hopes that my impatience under them may do me a great deal of harm and spoil my efforts at a close union with God. My meditations, grown dull with distractions, will be omitted, my prayers become more seldom; and the food of the soul being denied it, the soul must starve. I have therefore to be patient under the cross and continue my devotions unfailingly; all the more persistently because of my very distractions, for my need of God’s strength is greater. One good way of getting rid of distractions is, as soon as I am aware of them, to pray for that person or matter which causes them; if, despite this, the same trouble continues, I must resign myself to the good hands of God, nor lose hope in my efforts after faith and love.

THE “OUR FATHER”

I. Prayer more Important than Prayers

One day the Apostles made this request to Our Lord: “Teach us how to pray.” Now so many questions must have been put to Him that have not been recorded, that we are very grateful that this has been set down, for it gives us His whole answer. But before coming to His words, let us just notice this, that the Apostles do not ask to be taught prayers, but prayer. They do not say, “Teach us some prayers,” but, “Teach us how to pray,” which is obviously of infinitely more importance. It was just this view of things that Our Lord Himself insisted on, for He does not reply to them by telling them to use a particular form of prayer. His words were, “Thus shalt thou pray,” not, “This is what you must pray.” That is, He simply confirms their own attitude, implied in their very particular question: He answers them that the particular words He was using were meant merely as a model. Prayers may be most beautiful and most touching, but they are useless unless they are really intended. To repeat words is not all that is meant by prayer. The Apostles had numberless prayers in the Sacred Scriptures, such as David and the Prophets had composed under the inspiration of God; but they felt it was not prayers, but the attitude of the soul in prayer, which it was most important they should discover. Not, therefore, was their request, “Teach us a new prayer,” but, “Teach us how to pray.” And Our Lord’s answer endorsed their supposition; not “This” but “Thus” shalt thou pray, not “in these words,” but “in this fashion.”

II. A Perfect Scheme of Prayer

This distinction is of great importance for us to realize. Our Lord never intended that we should merely learn by heart the Our Father and recite it day and night. No doubt it is very beautiful and very simple, and can be learnt quite easily by anyone who cares to use it. But that is not the purpose (though it is one purpose) of His gift of it to us. He evidently desires that we should take it to pieces, study its composition, and make it the model of our conversation with Him and the Father. Obviously it is impossible for this to be done in this book, for it would require a great number of meditations to work through the whole and find the meaning of each carefully (because divinely) intended phrase. Moreover, the real benefit would be lost, for the true value would only be appreciated when we had done it for ourselves. I must study it carefully, petition by petition, noting the distinct meaning of the words, the arrangement of the order, and the gradual development of the ideas of fatherhood, etc.

III. It meets our Daily Needs

But this much may perhaps be set down, on the understanding that we may use another’s remarks on condition that we judge and reject them if they do not touch the personal note which dominates the harmony of our own lives. First, then, it is worthy of comment to observe how easy and conversational the Lord’s Prayer is. There are no appeals to God, as though He required forms of address different from anyone else. Indeed, this prayer is little else than a series of remarks made by a child to its father. The very want of connection between each petition, the staccato notes that mark off phrase from phrase, seem to suggest that it should be said very slowly, pausing after each group of notes to let their meaning and harmony echo to the base of the soul. Then, again, it is also worthy of comment that the child does not at once think of itself or its needs, but turns instinctively to the excellence and greatness of its Father: “Hallowed be Thy Name.” Without request or words of thanks, it raises its voice in praise, desirous only that this praise should evermore increase till the valleys of earth echo as gloriously with His greatness as do the hills of the heavenly country. Only when this is done does it turn to its own needs and venture to plead for their contentment; and even so, it makes no request for luxuries or high spiritual favours. Bread only does it require, its urgent, instant, daily need; and it does not soar above such an unromantic view of the life of the soul as supposes it only not to be led into temptation, but delivered from evil. Lord, teach me also how to pray!

CONTEMPLATION

I. Contemplation is for All

The particular form of prayer that is here recommended, namely contemplation, will no doubt sound too ideal, too far up in the clouds to be of any practical use to the ordinary individual. It has been so shut out from our ordinary notions of the sanctity required from men and women that the result has been that it is relegated in most people’s minds to the cloister. Contemplation! Oh, yes; monks and nuns may contemplate, but not lay folk! That is the tyranny of a prejudice which is based on a misconception; for contemplation is an essential to all those who would “live godly in Christ Jesus.” Prayer is too often robbed of all its effects, is reduced to hard and fast rules, is mapped out and labelled and regimented till it hardly seems at all to be the language of the heart. It becomes instead (and the elaborate instructions of so many books on mental prayer amply bear out this view) a highly artificial science, where notices meet us at every step, burly policemen in the guise of the theologians bar our passage, and definite and well-ordered paths, macadamized and straight and uninteresting, stretch out in military fashion to the skyline. All adventure has gone, all the personal touches, and all the contemplation. We are too worried and harassed to think of God. The instructions are so detailed and insistent that we forget what we are trying to learn. As a consequence we get bored, and so no doubt does God.

II. The Enraptured Gazing on God

But to contemplate is perfectly simple; to contemplate is to gaze. The Egyptian statues seem crystallized contemplation: they sit so silently after the fashion of the changeless East, with their hands upon their knees and their eyes fixed at a dead level, gazing far out into the even desert. The statues, too, of Buddha, despite their gesture and their corpulency, and the self-satisfied air they usually suggest, have about them the sense of restfulness. They are still and contemplative. Even the writhing figure of the Crucified, stript of all accidental dignity and composure, yet by its hushed and brooding inertness speaks of deep-souled peace; and we are sure that the prayer of our Master on the hillside by the lake or in the garden of Mount Olivet, for all its agony and its oppression at the near thought of death, was the still prayer of contemplation, the gazing with questioning yet patient eyes upon the infinite being of God. This surely is prayer-an upraising of the heart through the mind, a speech with God such as friend with friend, or such as lover has with beloved when the mere sight and presence is enough to make glad the heart. It is prayer; but surely it is a far easier and more natural form than the over-busy and irritating attitude I try to take up towards my soul. “Martha, Martha, one thing is necessary; Mary has chosen the better part.”

III. Faith leads to Contemplation

To achieve this I must begin by faith. It is only by true knowledge that I shall be led to gaze on God; it is only by an accurate acquaintance with Eternal Truth and Beauty that I shall be able to appreciate all that contemplation means. My mind, lit up by the truth of Revelation which the Church has taught me, is fixed upon some mystery or portion of a mystery. I try to think out the deep meaning of it, then reach the further end of all my knowledge, and wait before the Truth. It will appear to me at first dimly, looming out from the darkness, where my own ignorance must leave it. Slowly, as I gaze, the details, unguessed, unnoticed, will appear, emerging against the more shadowed background. Across the distance steals, perhaps, the fragrance of God; I can even hear the whisper of His voice. Gradually I find that there are inner meanings to all these sanctities of God, which come to those only who patiently await the unfolding of the seed of the Kingdom. All this is contemplation: not preludes nor composition, nor colloquies, but the bare, naked truth, clearing in outline to the soul that is content to watch in silence at the feet of Christ. By faith, then, I learn from the Church the truths of God. These I understand in the sense in which she explains them. Then with deep trust I watch and listen for the Voice of God.

SILENCE

I. Every Soul needs Silence

Silence is no less necessary for those out of the cloister than for those within. For religious, monks and nuns, it must of course be more rigorous, more material, if such an expression be allowed for that of which the essence is the absence of matter; but for those who live in, but not of, the world, it must be no less faithfully kept. Nay, rather because of the very rush and tumult of life, the need for it in the souls of those whose business it is to pass their days close to the humming and whirling machinery of existence is far more pressing and urgent. Even physically for such as have their time fully occupied, crowded with incident and crossed with the lives of so many others, there seems a recognized need for a break from time to time for perfect rest. The necessity of a sabbath, or a day of rest, betokens how human nature cries for a lessening of the tension at least every now and then. We men, whose lives are filled up with such activities that the whole being is riveted in fixed attention on our work, require moments, not simply of relaxation for amusement but also for mere and sheer silence. To be serious is even easier than to be amused, and requires far less effort than to be amusing; hence our very pleasures take their tithe of our energy and do not of themselves re-create the soul. For this re-creation, as for creation itself, silence must precede speech; and out of the stillness alone, as of old, can leap the word.

II. Silence, the Mother of Thought

The soul, then, like the body, has need of silence, which is the necessary condition for recollection and contemplation. Such a silence as this means also the actual cessation of all distracting sights, sounds, perceptions; it supposes as part of its essence a really physical silence (a contradiction in words, but not in ideas) as required for a few minutes daily, or at least from time to time during the week: for silence is the mother of thought. To talk is to expound, and to expound requires premeditated matter, and to meditate requires silence. Am I not conscious very often how much I need this silence? Does it flash in upon me during my conversation that I am frequently making use of expressions and arguments which I cannot really justify and which do not seem fully to contain and bear out the construction I put upon them? I must admit that a very great deal that I pretend to take for granted has only a vague significance, hazy and incomplete. There is much that I dread being questioned about. Does not my soul loathe many of my crowded and jaded hours? My vapid and empty conversations-my endless gossip, the baldness of my ideas, the imitative nature of my remarks, the dull and platitudinous moralizing in which I so frequently indulge at the expense of others-repeatedly show, even from a human point of view, the need I have of thought, and therefore first of silence. Otherwise we become mere gramophones, grinding out the records composed by the labours of others.

III. Our Silence is God’s Opportunity

I must be silent, therefore, that I may speak. But this after all is the lowest reason that can be urged; there is at least one other that is more commanding. I must be silent indeed that I may speak, but silent also that I may listen. If I am always talking, how can I hear what others are saying; above all, how can I hear the voice of God? He will make no effort to out-shout my own words, nor the clamour of life that I deliberately pursue: His is the still small voice that is heard only when the whirlwind has passed. Now it is of supreme importance to me to hear what God has to say, far more important than His hearing what I have to say; and just as in prayer it may well happen that I reproach God with never giving me His whispered counsel or comfort and yet never with my own persistent speech allow Him opportunity to “ get in a word edgeways,” so that it may well happen in life that I make no efforts to catch His voice. It is the still waters that are ruffled by the slightest breath of wind, and it is only the silent souls that hear the slightest whisper of God. Yet the loss of all this to me! what marvelous opportunities perhaps came in my way, what needed advice, wisdom, love, were thrown away upon me! for I was so disturbed, fussy, noisy, that the Divine Word passed me by unheeded, deafened by the tumult of earthly things. Let me learn silence in my life, for God does not shout.

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Atheism Doesnit Make Sense

BY DANIEL A. LORD, S.J

INDEX

The scene was the famous Marble Arch, Hyde Park, London. The time was Sunday night. The crowd was large and in holiday mood. The speakers were loud and fluent. And the old gentleman who particularly caught my attention was small, shrivelled, and an atheist.

“This morning,” he said, in a slightly cracked voice, “I was working in my gar den. Maybe some of you were at church. I was doing something useful. Yes, I was a-working of my garden. Well, right there on a leaf in front of me I saw a large green bug. What did I do? I killed it. Now, ladies and gentlemen, what do you think of a god that creates large green bugs and then creates me to kill “em? Nice kind of god, ain’t he? Sensible, eh, wot? You can have a god like that if you want him. I”11 get along a free and independent atheist.”

There were some in the crowd who tittered. But near me stood a quiet little cockney. When the others laughed, he shrugged his shoulders contemptuously and said under his breath: ““E”d a been a “eap sight better hoff if “e‘d stayed in “is bloomin” garden “stead of comin” “ere to talk “is bloomin” nonsense.”

I wanted to shake his hand.

ALL OF ONE STRIPE

For in that silly old man on the pitch in Hyde Park, abolishing God from this incredibly complicated and magnificently ordered universe, because he, with his almost illiterate brain, couldn’t quite figure out the possible uses of a green bug (which very likely had had a great deal to do with preparing the soil in which his flowers were growing), I seemed to see all the atheists who have ever lived, from the village atheist astride his cracker box in the corner grocery to the officials of the modern Legions of the Godless. And all their arguments seemed to be epitomised in that one old fellow who rejected God because he couldn’t understand a large, green bug.

Atheists are of that stripe. They get completely baffled, and all their theology goes haywire because of a seven-year locust.

LOGIC V. LAUGHTER

Of all the theories ever held by the capacious and hospitable mind of man, atheism is certainly the one that makes least sense. It makes so little sense that there has never been a single positive argument advanced to prove that there is no God. Laughter and sneers andridicule these are the arguments. “Look at that bug! Ha! ha! ha!” “Think about mosquitoes. Ho! ho! ho!” “Let’s see you draw me a picture of God! He! he! he!” “Isn’t it absurd that after millions of years of human advance people are still silly enough to believe in God? Pardon my unseemly mirth!”

Years ago, when Robert Ingersoll toured the country, vying with Barnum in showmanship and daring God to kill him (as God eventually did, and in rapid fashion), he once cried out: “We can no longer be content with a God for Whom it is impossible to advance a single proof.” Father Lambert, the brilliant apologist, flung back this simple challenge: “How dare Ingersoll be so utterly ignorant? The proofs for the existence of God have never been touched by the ridicule of any atheist. They still stand today. Let Ingersoll knock one of them down if he can.” And Ingersoll couldn’t.

STRAW MEN

Anyone who knows anything of the tactics of atheists knows that what they do is build up straw men, call them our arguments, andthen proceed to knock them down with resounding blows. “You prove the existence of God out of the Bible,” one group loudly taunts. “That’s the worst sort of vicious circle. You prove God out of the Bible, and then you prove the Bible by saying it is God’s word. Stupid argument! Vicious circle!”

We do nothing of the sort. We prove God’s existence from reason. We prove Him in exactly the same sort of scientific fashion that science is constantly using for its whole system. Only after we have proved by arguments from reason that He exists do we start discussing whether or not the Bible is His book.

The favourite straw men, who get a terrible drubbing, are the caricatures which are presented to us as if they were our idea of God. Bernard Shaw is not beyond doing that, though, of course, Bernard Shaw is not only not an atheist, but is actually a pantheist, one who believes that there is nothing else but God. This pet caricature presents God as a nice, doddering old gentleman, with white whiskers and a frock coat, who sits up somewhere back of a kind of heavenly altar and dozes over a world he is too old and too tired to do anything about. “Look at God!” cries the atheist. “Could you believe in Him?”

I certainly couldn’t possibly believe in a God like that. No man who has even a faint scientific or philosophic knowledge of God, no man who has studied God’s revelation even in passing, has any such ridiculous picture of God in his mind. And if artists, even the most orthodox, have sometimes painted God as old, venerable, whiskered, and paternal, it is because age and wisdom, years and fatherhood, white hair and achievement, have long been associated together in the human mind.

MANY SUBSTITUTES

Then there is the chap who throws God out the window because he finds there have been so many false gods throughout man’s history. “There have been too many gods. They can’t all be right. So none of them is right.”

Which is almost as silly as saying, “There have been so many poor poets that I don’t believe Shakespeare wrote poetry. There have been so many men who drew abominable, silly marks on walls that I decline even to look at Michelangelo”

Of course, there have been false gods offered to human worship. No one is for a moment suggesting that it is always easy to go straight to the one true God. But that proves nothing against God.

ALL AGREE

On the contrary, false gods prove the human need of God. In fact, the atheist has a squirming time of it when he tries to explain how it happens that the whole human race, all men and all nations, have felt that yearning desire for God. The atheist has an awful struggle to account for the fact that atheists have always been a handful as compared with the rest of humanity. And when he hastens to retort that the atheists have been the smart men of history, it is our turn to laugh. Until very recent times there has been scarcely a single notable man who claimed to be an atheist. (In our own time there have been hardly a half-dozen such notables.)

I remember reading, not so long ago, a list of “atheists” drawn up by a notorious American atheist. It was simply funny to anyone who knew anything about the men listed there. This atheist, who was none too scrupulous about his arguments for his cause, included in his list Aristotle and Plato, whereas they were philosophers who supplied some of the most powerful philosophical arguments used today by Christians and scientists to prove there is a God. He listed Shakespeare, who was no more an atheist than he was an aviator. He waved a hand at a composer or two who had written Masses to be sung in Catholic churches in honour of God. He gestured toward Spinoza, whose follower Einstein claimed to be when, in answer to the question whether he (Einstein) believed in God, replied: “Certainly, I am a disciple of Spinoza.”

WHAT? WHO?

The fact is that no man who thinks can look at the tremendous reality called the universe without asking how it came into existence and what keeps it in its orderly, law-controlled way? That eternal How and Why, asked by every generation of every people since dawn broke over the world, has forced man to cry out, in some sort of fashion, often in detail not too correctly or accurately, “All this must have had a planner, a creator, a preserver.” He might then go on to give that planner a name of his own making. He might visualise Him very badly or inadequately. But he could not get away from His existence.

No one has ever been able to bring forward an argument against the existence of God. However, it is a quite simple thing to act as if God did not exist. To a very large extent God turned the running of His earth over to His sons and daughters. And, like a considerate father, He is loath to intrude where He is clearly not wanted. So the policy of the present has been to push God out of all the affairs of life, as far as that was humanly possible. Like a considerate father, God permits a deal of this.

A cynic once remarked that a Christian country was one in which the name of God may, in polite society, be mentioned publicly only in an oath. Practically, in most “Christian” countries, God has been invited to mind His own business and to leave all the really important affairs of the world to men’s administration. Many a modern who would reject the still decidedly insulting epithet of atheist is willing to accept God’s existence only if God will remain a remote, impersonal being, far, far away from such places as Wall Street, Broadway, the First National Bank, the Board of Directors” room, Downing Street, or the Quai D”Orsay. God has become slightly de trop. Eyes open in a slightly surprised stare when a prominent man publicly acknowledges that God has anything whatsoever to do with business or government or art or education.

It is because men have deliberately conspired to treat God as if He did not exist at all that the systematic atheism of the present day has become possible.

Besides, revolutionists of the present are completely at odds with kings. Disliking earthly kings, they have determined that the King of Kings does not belong, either. They have overturned the thrones of earth. Why shouldn’t they make a final effort to do what Lucifer failed to do-overturn the throne of heaven?

HATRED OF GOD

So Communism, in Russia and Mexico and France and everywhere that it dares to show its true face, is God-hating to the core of its heart. The Legions of the Godless are the applauded and petted battalions of Red Russia. Little children are taught to make this act of faith: “I do not believe in God”-the hardest act of faith that anyone is ever called on to make. French atheism has the proud distinction of writing obscene books about God, reaching up filthy and polluted hands to soil, if that were possible, the All-Holy, the All-Pure.

We shall come back to them and their stupidity in a minute, to these professed atheists who make war on a God they say does not exist and whom they bitterly hate with a personal, venomous hatred, the Deity who they say never was and never will be. Just now we are concerned with the polite or the rough ushering of God out of His universe, which is the characteristic proceeding of our day.

EXCLUDED

God just does not belong in public life. He has a scant and chilly welcome in our public school system. Buddha may be discussed and Mohammed’s Allah shown in his relationship to the development of the Orient. But God may be mentioned in the classrooms of practically none of the so-called Christian countries of the world, and this by public order and law. Once law courts began their sittings by appeal-big to the Giver of all laws. Today God would be astounded, if that were possible, to hear His Name mentioned in the law courts of Christian nations, save by a few faithful Christian lawyers. Modern business does not particularly favour God. Finance has not forgotten that man cannot serve God and Mammon, and deliberately it has made its choice. A minister or a priest may be permitted to say a brief prayer before the opening of national legislatures, but he leaves once the really important work begins, taking, no doubt, God along with him.

And modern despotic governments?

Well, we have seen Communism basing its entire concept of government on the exclusion of God from the whole of life. We have watched Nazism turning from the Christian God back to the beer-swilling gods of Teuton days, simply because Nazism knows that those fat-bellied, lustful, bloodthirsty old gods do not exist, and hence cannot do any unpleasant or annoying interfering with despotism and ruthlessness and persecution and violation of human rights, which Nazi leaders mean to continue as their policy. Fascism, though it is shrewd enough to make an offhand bow to God, really substitutes for Him an ancient pagan equivalent, the all-powerful, all-dominant State.

When the League of Nations petered out in a final fizzle of futility, many of us smiled to remember that from the start God was warned that at last the nations could competently and satisfactorily attend to their own affairs without any help from Him, thank you! Has God, I wonder, as He watched their fumblings, their bickerings, their pettiness and stupidity, smiled in tender and forgiving pity?

OBJECTIONABLE LAW

God has been pushed aside from Communism and ruthless capitalism, from Nazism and radical labour, simply because God has a most inconvenient way of acting: He does lay down laws and He does give commandments. He says to the despot, no matter how strong his army of shirts, black, brown, or red: “Of course, your power is only a trust held for the sake of the peace and happiness of your people. Some day I shall ask an account of your use of it.” That’s a most annoying sort of speech for anyone to make to a dictator; and, since God has the utterly bad taste to make it in the secret depths of the dictator’s conscience, the dictator issues some new law to push God farther from the frontiers of his land.

To the ruthless capitalist God says: “You are merely a steward of the wealth you hold, and you dare not use it otherwise than for the happiness of those who work for you. The oppression of labourers and the robbing of widows and workingmen cry out to Me for vengeance.” “Does it?” demands the capitalist, cynically. “Listen, God. You may have Sunday mornings between the hours of eleven and twelve; but during the rest of the week will You oblige us by realising that the laws of economics and of supply and demand take precedence over any of Your commandments, even over Your voice speaking in my secret soul?”

“You may overthrow the kings of earth,” God says to the radical. “You cannot overthrow the throne of heaven.” “Perhaps,” retorts the radical. “But if we can’t overthrow that throne, we can pull a curtain between it and the eyes of children, so that they’ll never know it is there. We have our programme; You have no place in it. These children shall never so much as guess there is a God.”

MAN MAKES HIS GODS

Then, after this exclusion of God by a concerted policy of so many of His men and women, comes the great joke. Man plays the joke on himself. He throws aside the great and beautiful God of reason and Christian revelation, and goes down on his knees and scurries around in the most feverish and often debasing service before gods of his own making. “God,” said the great revelation to Moses,”made man to His image and likeness.” “Nonsense,” cries the modern atheist. “I shall make a god to my image and likeness.” And, heaven pity him, he does. He makes a new god that is just as contemptible and small and futile as that god’s creator.

Voltaire is often quoted as saying that if there were no God, it would be necessary for man to create one. The fact is that man turned atheist has proved Voltaire’s statement in a thousand different forms. Man must have some god to serve, and, rejecting the true God, he creates for himself false and futile gods.

WITH CAPITAL LETTERS

So modern business, until its god failed it as truly as the first golden calf failed its creators served Money, and spelled that Money with a capital M. Your modem dictator serves Power with a zeal and labour and self-sacrifice that match the efforts of the most zealous missionary Preaching the true God. Science is spelled with a capital S, and that large S is significant: Science will remake the world; Science will save humanity; Science must be served by the burned out lives of specialists and the tireless ritual of laboratory and classroom and dangerous expedition.

Even that despicable and ashen thing called Pleasure gets its ritual and its faith and cult. I wonder whether a more exacting creed has ever existed than the creed that defies Pleasure and sends its devotees scuttling off in obedience to a faith that has no fulfilment and a love that burns itself out as it flames and flares and smokes.

MAN IS GOD

“My god,” wrote an atheist to me, “is humanity.”

Out of my heart I felt sorry for him. Atheist though he was, he admitted he had a god. But imagine any man serving and reverencing and adoring the human race, the best-known member of which is, as far as he personally is concerned, himself. Imagine worshipping a thing that can have colds in the head, cancers, and pimples on the end of its nose. Imagine bowing down to the race which is represented by the man whose face rather revolted me this morning as I looked at it in the shaving mirror. Fancy having as one’s god this mankind which, for all its genius and achievements, is capable of murder and lust and brutal cruelty and filthy speech and obscene thinking.

And imagine offering us a god who must, in order to advance or improve himself, act on the principle of lifting by the bootstraps. God can reach down and lift man up to higher things. God can endow man, as He actually has, with the powers by which man can vastly improve his condition and surroundings and even himself. But a man cannot lift himself by his own boot-straps; and, if there is no God above man, man cannot be lifted at all. He cannot give himself what he has not already got.

The most unsatisfactory god in all of the modern pantheon is undoubtedly the god called humanity. I might be able to adore the smooth, gleaming statue of the Greek Zeus. I might conceivably worship a golden calf. I am certain I cannot find anything innately divine about the person I know and live with and find as inadequate and as thoroughly, humanly unsatisfactory as I find myself.

Yet, scratch the most arrant atheist and you’ll find a believer in some absurd god whom he worships tirelessly, hope—lessly. The more vehemently a man denies he has a god, the surer I am that he is serving, with the sacrifices and labours of a lifetime, some god of his own crude fashioning.

“I DON’T UNDERSTAND”

“But,” cries the atheist, always ready to fling difficulties which he mistakes for proofs, “I can’t understand your God.” One disdains to reply, “Well, what do you understand with any degree of completeness?” One shouldn’t want to dare him to explain what light really is, or what life is, or electricity, or even, completely and adequately, a drop of water. One shouldn’t want to tax him by demanding that he understand completely how one seed grows to be a cactus and another grows to be a rose; how the germ of life develops in the darkness of a body until it comes forth a man-child; how it happens that the voice of a singer travels to the wires of a radio on unseen and really unexplained waves; what makes a grain of sand so different from a bit of diamond dust; why planets do not go crashing into one another, or why the ocean, in a sudden tremendous spout, does not go swirling off towards the ever-attracting moon. If God were the only thing the atheist did not understand, we might be a little excited and perturbed. But it is usually the ignorant, half-educated atheist who is loudest in his protests that he does not understand God, and quickest to show in his betraying speech how little he understands about anything.

GOD IS TOO BIG

However, we can go a step farther than that. We can simply answer: “If you could completely understand God, God would not be God.”

Sounds a bit confusing? It’s really not. God, to be God, must be vast enough to have formed this entire universe, given it its laws and order, composed the intricate formation of the atom, and traced with His almighty finger the transit of the planetary systems. God, to be God, must be infinite, without limit, far greater than the universe He made and the laws He established. Even the atheist, who is probably as cocky a little animal as struts the earth, has, in his saner moments, to admit that his mind is pretty limited and his comprehension pretty small. Yet he demands to take into his limited imagination the limitless God. He demands to understand, with his easily taxed, always fumbling mind, the God Who is vaster than the universe, which no scientist claims even to have partially grasped. What nonsense!

We can, of course, know a great deal about God, and do. We can understand much of His power and beauty. We can read the signs of His intellect and will as He wrote them in stardust and traced them on the red tablet of the human heart. But if the moment came when any man really understood God, either that man would himself be God, or God would have become merely another man.

We are not in the least disturbed that we cannot fully understand God. The trouble with all the false gods of history, from the divine oxen of Egypt and Jove of Rome to Science and Money and Despotic Power, is that man could understand them. And, understanding them, man quickly came to know that they were not and could not be God.

“PROVE HIM TO ME!”

But just a minute; the atheist has another bomb to throw.

“I believe only in what can be scientifically proved.”

“Fine,” I reply, gladly enough. “Nothing could suit me better.”

The atheist is sure he has me there. “But God cannot be scientifically proved.”

“No?” I query, with raised eyebrows.

“Certainly not. Let’s see you put God into a test-tube or under a microscope. Let’s see you treat God with a reagent.

Turn the telescope on the heavens and show me God.” (Do you remember the absurdly amusing American in “Father Malachy’s Miracle,” who kept demanding that the dear old Benedictine show him a picture of the Holy Ghost?)

The atheist continues his bombardment. “Since when,” you and I ask him, “must men believe that only the things that are put under a microscope or in a testtube are provable? Do you believe in mother love?”

He stutters angrily. “Of course.”

“Let’s see you put that into a retort. Do you believe that there is such a thing as justice? Have you ever held the law of gravity in a pair of forceps and watched it squirm? Friendship and hatred are powerful things. Go out and get me a sample of each, andwe’ll put them between glass plates and see what they look like.”

EFFECTS PROVE

The atheist gives us the cold and disdainful looks he feels quite sure we deserve. “Quibbles!” he snorts. “Of course, I believe in such things. I have seen and felt and measured their effects. I”ve felt the effect of mother love. I”ve experienced the effects of hatred and friendship. Loyalty has left its impress on the world. I can see the power of the law of gravity.

“Thank you! Thank you!” say I, gaily interrupting. “That’s all I want to know. All really important scientific study is based on the law of cause and effect. We did not see the seas that once covered our mountains, but we have seen the shells left behind by those seas, and we know those seas existed. The staunchest believer in evolution has never seen one species change into another. He sees signs that that sort of thing happened, and he accepts evolution-which is another one of the things that you can’t put into a cage in your back yard and use as the source of a series of important experiments. Even your detective stories-the delight, if I am not wrong, of all our superior minds-is based on the reasoning process which sees an effect and says, “That must have happened in this way. There is a footprint, that demands a man of such and such a build. Look; there’s the mark of a thumb on that gun. Now, if we can find the owner of that thumb. . . . And note: the mur- derer smoked an Indian cigarette and carelessly spilled ashes on the floor.”. . . . . .

“So,” demands the atheist, “you argue from effect to cause? That’s like you Christians. You say this is an effect, there- by implying that something caused it. We say it just happened. And then it does not need a cause.”

“And the clearest thing in all this often quite clear world is that we are living in the midst of a constant series of effects. Things result from other things-roses from seeds, and from those roses more seeds, gravity pulling water and creating a waterfall. How did it all start? What got it all under way?We are surrounded by effects. What was the first cause?”

NO FAITH IN MAN

And then we are back to the proofs for the existence of God, which no one has ever done anything to counteract or destroy. They stand, those proofs, firm and irresistible, certain” and convincing. In fact-and this is one of the strangest treasons, not to God, but to men-the only way in which those proofs have been touched and made to seem discredited has been by denying to man the power to prove anything. A German philosopher by the name of Kant-and a really great man he was, be it admitted-took all dignity from the human mind by making it impossible for that human mind really to prove anything. It could not even prove that two and two make four. It could not prove that when one chap hits another his blow is the cause of the other’s pain. It could not prove that last night’s rain was what dampened the ground, or that a man’s love for a girl is what made him bring her a box of candy. All those things were cause and effect, but they could not be proved.

I remember quite vividly meeting two young ladies after I had talked on atheism.

“Of course,” they said, “we believe in God. Any sensible person does. But we don’t accept your proofs.”

“What’s wrong with them?” 1 asked politely.

“Why, they just don’t prove, that’s all.” And then it dawned on me. “Oh, you went to such and such a college, didn’t you?” I named a famous secular school. They nodded. “And studied Kant?” For a moment they were not sure, but suddenly they nodded again. “Ah, then, that’s why you’re not impressed by my arguments. You haven’t lost your faith in God. Your professors, when they taught you Kantianism, simply made you lose your faith in man.”

And it is important to remember that Kant, though he did not think man could prove God’s existence (or, for that matter, prove really anything in the world), believed firmly in God, and used, almost unconsciously, valid arguments for his belief. For he said that, when he read the law in the stars and the law in his own conscience, he knew there must be a God. His proofs for the existence of God were excellent. His justification for his disbelief in man’s reasoning processes was very poor.

WHO?

We are not going to consider the proofs for God’s existence in anything like detail. That would require a volume. Besides, even a little brushing up of memory, or facing of reality brings those proofs clearly to mind. For even the most casual and slip-shod thinker cannot escape the fact that this is a plan-filled universe. All science is based on the fact that things move according to nature’s laws, and that the more one studies, the clearer those laws become. Text-books are written, laboratories built, factories established, in the certainty that, when the law has once been discovered, it will be found to hold tomorrow, a year from now, a thousand years in the future.

To prove the need of a God, swiftly glance around the world and make a few vivid comparisons. Look at the stars and remember that they are moving at rates of speed that make our streamline trains seem to stand still. Compare that intricate pattern of heavenly movement-suns and planets of incredible size and weight moving through space with a speed unmatched by our fastest racing car-with the schedule of, let’s say, the Sante Fe Railroad. Yet it takes thousands of men constantly planning, watching, supervising, to keep the schedule of that single railroad from going wrong and smashing limiteds against freights and locals against excursions. Yet the planets and stars and suns are, according to the atheist, just dashing around without anyone to plan their schedules or mark out their courses. Smart, isn’t it?

COMPARISONS

There is that miracle of miracles, the human eye, delicate, accurate, capable of taking in the mountain range or peering into the heart of a molecule, so intricate that it took scientists uncounted centuries to discover how it operated. Compare that with the camera you carry with you on your vacation, which is, after man’s clumsy fashioning, an imitation of the human eye. Yet it took the genius of inventors, the accuracy of mathematicians, the skilled craftsmanship of mechanics centuries to plan, develop and make the camera. The eye, says the atheist, who surely is, beyond all mortals who walk the earth, devoid of a sense of humour, just developed itself because the blind protoplasm of some ambitious jellyfish wanted to see. How did he know, this jellyfish, that he wanted to see, when he didn’t even know what seeing was?

But to go on with the comparison: Compare the human throat with the telephone; the wax flower with the rose coveted with fresh dew; the accurate solar system with your watch, which does persist in losing time no matter how often the watch-repairer works on it; the snow crystal on your window-pane with the jigsaw puzzle you laboriously put together; the jumping muscles of a frog with the clumsy mechanism of a steam-shovel; the accurate succession of the seasons with the way in which big department stores plan sales to meet the arrival of those seasons; the light from the distant sun with that of the electric bulb that burns on your desk.

These human things, the atheist readily admits, took years of planning, took genius to invent, required a most careful study of nature’s operations. Yet these things are copies, if ever so imperfect, of nature’s achievements. They demand an elaborate system of upkeep and servicing. But the incredibly vaster things in nature- Oh, they just happened by some inexplicable trick or accident. Nobody planned them; nobody set them going; nobody keeps them from smashing into bits.

Oh, is that so? Honestly, don’t you think it’s our turn to laugh?

IF THINGS MOVE

There is the scientific law of inertia, which the atheist is going to crack his skull against unless he wants to throw that out along with God. You remember, of course, the law of inertia: A body at rest tends to stay at rest until moved by some external force; a body in motion tends to remain in motion until stopped by some external force. One thing is patently clear: The world is simply tingling with emotion. From the vibration of the electrons within the atom to the sweep of solar systems through space, everything moves.

Yet science is very clear about the fact that this was not always the state of the universe. Motion, with time, has clearly become more elaborate, more complicated; new types of motion have filled the history of the universe-as when from solidifying gases came the sun, or fish crawled out on banks and tried their fins as incipient wings.

Whostarted all this motion? It was always there? That’s the atheist’s dodge. (“ But how does he know that? On the contrary, the universe is running down. Scientists know that, at some far, far, far away date-oh, give it trillions or quadrillions of light years-it will be as rundown as an ancient grandfather’s clock. So, if it will end in time, however remote, it started in time, however remote.

What started it? Something inside itself? That’s against the law of inertia. Something or somebody outside itself? Ah, that’s what we call the First Mover, the Cause of all this universal motion. That’s just another name for God.

IT ALL DEPENDS

There is one argument for God that ha been expressed in a number of ways. Simply, it is this: Everything in this world depends upon something else. That sort of thing can’t go on forever. Eventually one has to arrive at something that does not depend upon something else. Otherwise nothing at all could exist.

You may remember the way that situation puzzled the old East Indian philosopher. “What,” he was asked by his pupils, “keeps the earth suspended in space?”

“Ah,” said the Indian philosopher, looking very wise, “the earth rests upon the back of a tremendous elephant.”

The pupil was momentarily satisfied; but back he came.”What,” he demanded, in the exasperating fashion of smart pupils, “is the elephant standing on?”

The philosopher went into another little mental huddle with himself and returned with this convincing answer: “The elephant is standing on the back of a great turtle.

The pupil thought that very nice indeed, and went about his business once more. But his business soon ceased to engross him, for he had another difficulty. “And what,” he demanded of the now quite frustrated philosopher, “is the turtle standing on?”

The Indian philosopher gave it up. “That,” he answered sadly, “I have not been able to discover.”

The fact remained that the turtle had to be standing on something, or the earth itself would crash off to oblivion.

THE CHAIN

Let us, instead of lookingdownward for a turtle, look upward. Right before your nose, we’ll suppose, hangs the links of a long chain. That lowest link depends upon the link above it. The link above it depends on the link above that. And, looking up, you notice that the links hang one from another up and up until the chain disappears in the sky. Now, although you remember hearing the traveller’s tale of the Hindu magician who throws in the air the rope which hangs from nothing, though the magician’s boy climbs up it and out of sight, you also remember that nobody has ever seen that trick done, and the whole thing seems to be the tale of the tropics-heated imagination of some European traveller, who forgot to wear his sun-helmet that particular afternoon. Ropes and chains do not hang in thin air. They must hang from a beam, a pole, a roof, or, possibly, from a rivet fixed in the mountains of the moon.

THE CHAIN OF EFFECTS

Now, be good enough to look about you. The world is full of things, none of them necessary, since any of them might just as easily not have been at all; and these things all depend upon other things. There is yourself depending upon your father and mother. If your father and mother had not met, you would not, so to speak, have depended at all. Your father depended on your grandfather, and he, in turn, on all the ancestral links in the progression from the first man.

Let us, just to make the chain a little longer, pretend that that first man depended on an anthropoid ape, who ambitiously tried walking about on his hind legs and grunting in unintelligible syllables. Let us stretch the chain back to the ancestors of the anthropoid ape-to the first mammals, to the birds with the experimental wings, to the fish, to the protozoa, to the queer and amorphous beings wiggling in the primitive slime, to the elements of gas, to the first atoms-back, back, to the very first link in the chain.

None of them had to be; any one of them might not have been; a number of them ceased to be as time went on. Your father might have caught scarlet fever and died before you were born; that particular primordial anthropoid might have been unintelligent enough to tackle a sabre-toothed tiger; one of the remote fish might have tried to fly too soon.

As a matter of fact, the history of the universe, as read in the rocks, is a history of all sorts of links that cracked up before they could be parts of really long chains. Clearly, none of them was necessary.

WHAT HOLDS IT?

So, we have one of two pictures: We have either a chain that hangs from nothing, just remains suspended in the air, not fixed to something permanent like a great beam, a roof, a mountain top, the side of a crater on the moon; or, we have a chain, the far end of which is held firm and tight by some Power strong enough to keep the whole chain from slipping off into oblivion, firm and lasting enough to hold that chain in place throughout all time. The first picture is ridiculous. We are forced to accept the second. So that Power, that firm, lasting Something which always was, and was by the necessity of Its nature, actually does hold all these accidental, fragile links in place and keeps the chain from dropping off into nothingness. Which is all just another description of the Person we call God.

It would be fun if you worked that argument out for yourself. Try to make a chain hang without something fixed, firm, to hold it. Then give the argument a little serious thought. It gripped the minds of the great Greek philosophers, forcing them to accept the Great God instead of their discredited little man-made gods. It is an argument that every true scientist, every mathematician, every great thinker sees and knows to be without answer or the possibility of refutation. Yet you can demonstrate it tonight while the rest of the party are doing parlour tricks.

THE CRUSHING WORD

Now, all this while my good little friend, the atheist, has been waiting for his chance. He flings at my head the crushing words; he flies at me with the light of victory in his eye.

“All this poppycock about God,” he almost shouts, “is made absolutely and completely unnecessary by the one, now proved, fact of-”

“Don’t tell me,” I plead. “Let me guess. By the one, now proved, fact of EVOLUTION!”

He would have much preferred it had I let him throw his bomb and then reeled back stunned by the detonation. Just the same, he knows he has me cornered now, and he sees through my bravado. He belongs, let’s say, to the school of “thinkers” who spawn from Girard, Kansas, and who pour forth the discredited scientific nonsense of fifty years ago at five cents per booklet, along with information, on how to be happy in love, how to be successful in business without brains or training, or how to read palms and draw horoscopes. So the fact that practically all first-line scientists even today admit some sort of God doesn’t bother him at all. Evolution solves all difficulties. Evolution has destroyed any need for God.

EVOLUTION DEMANDS GOD

Ah, but has it? Well, the plain fact is, my good little atheist, that if Evolution (even if it be spelled with a capital E as another substitute for God) be true, God is more necessary than He ever was.

There is much to be said in praise of the Wright brothers, who took off one sunny day, and Kitty Hawk became the synonym of man’s conquest of the air, a conquest which he had vainly sought since the days of Daedalus. To-day we stand before one of the big Douglas airliners, all set for a journey across the continent at 200 miles and more an hour, loaded with mail to be carried on precise schedule and slated to pick up passengers in New York and drop them off for dinner the same day in Los Angeles. We feel a sincere admiration for the geniuses who made all this possible, for the designers who worked on the machine year after year, for the engineers who planned the airports and perfected the safety equipment, for the efficiency experts who plotted the schedules and kept them working in good weather and bad. In fact, we are so impressed with the magnificent growth of aviation, that we are in a mood for passing out loving cups and medals, and placing wreaths on important tombs and impressive brows.

DO “PLANES EV OLVE?

But then it dawns on us. Why go about praising anyone for the efficiency of the modern airship? As a matter of fact, nobody is responsible for its development. What happened was this: When the Wright brothers designed their first heavier-than-air machine back there in the now remote days, they endowed their “plane with a wonderful power: It could not only fly, but it could, throughout the years that followed, evolve itself into an everincreasing more perfect “plane. That “plane developed into the early airships, that plunged themselves and their reckless aviators into the sea; it evolved into the” ricketty old craft in which the English Channel was first spanned.

That “plane in turn developed into the death traps that were used during the war; but, fortunately, one of them was set aside, nature took its course, and, by the time the war was over, it had evolved, without any help from anyone, into something pretty smart and efficient in battle “planes. Then this developed “plane evolved into the “plane with which the U.S. Navy sent Towers and Bellinger to cross the Atlantic. This “plane did not achieve its goal, but hardly a half-dozen years later it had evolved into the Spirit of St. Louis, with which Lindbergh crossed the Atlantic. His “plane evolved still further into bombing “planes, luxury liners, fast mail “planes, and, finally, into the modern cruisers which take off from San Francisco and end in Honolulu.

But note: All this time nobody but the Wright brothers deserves any credit. They endowed their first “plane with the power to fly, but they did much more than that. They gave that first “plane the power to evolve into all the “planes which, from that day to this have transformed travel throughout the universe. Forget the other names in aviation. Just place wreaths to the memory of the Wrights of the U.S.A.

MORE NEEDS STILL

“Will you,” demands our little atheist “stop this nonsense?”

“Ah,” we reply in our well-known, kindly tone, “we certainly will if you stop talking nonsense. Suppose your evolution is true. Suppose that from the first atom all this complicated, magnificent, as yet slightly explored world has evolved; what kind of being was it, let me ask, which endowed that first atom with the power to evolve into this universe? If we think the Wrights were remarkable for building their first “plane, we’d think them miracle workers if they could have given to that first flying craft the power to evolve into all the other flying craft. And if, instead of merely making the world and planning and carrying out each detail, the Creator endowed the original atom with the power to evolve, the Creator of the world would be revealed as vastly greater than He ever seemed before.”

IF KITTY CAN’T

“There you go,” storms the atheist. “You’re dragging God in again. Evolution explains it all. We don’t need any God.” “If you’ll concede that it is possible for the first “plane to evolve unaided into all the “planes down to the transcontinental liners of the present, then I”11 admit you are giving an explanation when you say: “God didn’t make the world.” Without any external aid the first atom slowly evolved into the violets and volcanoes, diamonds and dinosaurs, palm trees and planets, eyes and elephants, thunder clouds and the human thumb, caterpillars and the chemistry laboratory known as your stomach, rain clouds and reindeers. Is that a bargain?”

No. You won’t find even an atheist will ing to make that bargain. He likes to hurl the word evolution at your head. But he does not like to be reminded that evolution without Someone behind it directing the most elaborate and complicated progression, from simple to infinitely complex and multiplied, is as meaningless as an aeroplane left on the floor of a museum in the expectation that year after year it will produce better and more perfect “planes.

WHY CALL HIM GOD?

“All right, all right,” cries the atheist, using the words but none of the soothing tone of the radio impressario. “You still haven’t proved that there is a God. All you’ve proved is that there is a being of some sort who planned the universe, keeps it inorder, gives it laws, is the Necessary Thing on which all the other things depend. How dare you call that Being God?”

Right there we could go into a disquisition on names, how relatively unimportant they are. How, for example, your father may have a variety of names: To the men downtown he is Mr. Smith; to his employees he is the Boss; to his friend he is Good Old Harry; to himself he is the Breadwinner; to your mother he is Darling; to you he is Dad. This creator and planner of the universe; this being whose mind conceived the laws of the world and whose will imposed them on all creatures, so that they move by force of those laws, blindly in the case of unintelligent creatures, freely in the case of man; this Necessary Being, on whom all else depends, has called Himself by a variety of names, and been called by a hundred different titles, from Javeh of the Jews to Our Father of the New Testament.

God is just the simple name by which we sum up our concept of all the qualities which we, after our scientific study of the world and its needs, discover Him to possess. The fact that he has the intellect to plan and the will to carry His plans into execution gives Him the two distinctive qualities which make Him, not an impersonal force, an abstraction floating vaguely like so much mist and fog through the universe, but a personal being who can be called Our Father, and who can be loved by His children of earth. But the names are unimportant. What is important is the easily proved fact of God’s existence.

THE HARDEST FAITH

I have said and written this on many occasions before. I say it and write it with much more emphasis this time: the most difficult act of faith in the world is the act in which the atheist cries out, “I do not believe in God.” It is the most difficult and quite the silliest. One cannot make such an act of faith without binding oneself to all the intellectual consequences. It is a kind of blind, black boring into the ground. It is a giving up of the most fundamental laws of the human reason, the fruits of the most widespread experience of the human race.

When a man cries out, “I do not believe in God,” he has to add: “And I reject the law of cause and effect. I have no explanation for the way in which anything happened, unless it just happened by chance. Grand pianos and radios, of course, do not happen by chance; but the stars and the cornfields, the mountains and the molehills do. I say that the world is filled with natural laws; but I also say that it is law which has no lawgiver. It just happened by some unexplained chance. I believe, in addition, that the whole human race, when it accepted a God and felt that the existence of a God was necessary to explain the plan and order of the universe and the law they knew to be present in their own hearts, was wrong and stupid and credulously foolish. I believe there is no God, although I can’t advance a single argument to prove it. I prefer to accept the wonders of evolution, and say they all happened by accident or without an explanation than admit that there was a planner and director back of them who endowed beings with the power to evolve.”

Isn’t it simply dumbfounding that anyone can be found to make an act of faith as vast and baseless as that? Compared with any act of faith made by the most credulous believer in gods or God, this is a blind, implicit, reason-stultifying act which leaves those who hear it a little dazed and a little disappointed in human beings.

EVEN BUGS PROVE

So, returning to my man on the Hyde Park pitch, who gaveup God because he couldn’t understand a green bug, I just feel sorry for him. It is true that for the minute he could not see any use for that bug. But if he had examined that bug, its power to see, its nervous system, the chemistry of its digestive apparatus, its fidelity to law, its incredible nature, absolutely inimitable by the greatest scientist, he might have gone down on his knees to any being who could produce such a marvel. And had he watched that bug’s ancestors fertilise that garden, work the soil like miniature ploughs, and leave their bodies behind to enrich that soil, he might have found that the Being Who made the bug had given it not unimportant functions even in relation to the man who, because the bug had no place on a prize rose-bush, felt he must destroy it.

DOWN WITH LAW!

Without meaning to hurt the feelings of any man or woman who has made the difficult act of faith, “I do not believe in God,” I repeat, with all the conviction I possess: “People do not give up God because there are arguments against His existence; they give up God because they object to his law.” I”d go further than that. In the vast majority of cases, they give Him up because He stands between them and the gratification of their personal greed, either their greed for money or their greed for power or their greed for pleasures which God was indiscreet enough to ban by His sixth and ninth commandments.

A logical atheist cannot be a moral man. Note: I do not say atheists cannot be moral people. They can be, and frequently are. After all, it is not reasonable to suppose that civilisation existed throughout long centuries in possession of the knowledge of God’s beautiful law without there having been a great many people who accepted that law from force of habit, or because of convention. God banned murder, lust, cruelty, theft, greed, slander, the ugly things of which human misery is compounded. He banned them by the law He wrote in every human heart. He banned them again in the formal law of His written commandments. And men and women who give Him up are still illogical enough in many cases to continue to act by His laws, though they have rejected the Lawgiver.

NO GOD, NO LAW

But why should they? If there is no God, there is no Lawgiver. The voice of conscience has no one to enforce its commands. One may listen to its clear commands; but if one declines to follow them, who can demand an accounting? If there is no God, there is no rewarder or punisher that the smart and clever person cannot outwit and escape. If there is no God, then man is the world’s supreme lawgiver, and should feel quite free to scrap all the law with which he disagrees. If the law is not to his liking, and if, by force of brilliantly planned escape or the eloquence of shrewd lawyers, he can outwit it in human courts of law, what is to hinder him?

HARD LAWS OF MAN

Despite all this, the world cannot get along without God. To replace God’s law, smashed by this atheistic attack, we have seen the building up of cruel human laws and the modern taboos; the power of the majority crushing the right of the few, the will of the dictator riding bloodily over the backs of his oppressed people, the might of “those who have” crushing those who are luckless enough not to have, the rule of passion holding men and women in the most appalling of slaveries.

DIFFICULTIES

Note, please, that we do not for a moment deny that there are difficulties where the existence of God is concerned. We must remind you that God has to be beyond the complete understanding of any man or else He cannot be God. If God were small enough to fit into your limited mind and mine, He would not be the mover, planner, director of this slightly known universe. But only a fool lets a difficulty stand between him and a fact that is as clear, logical, and inevitable as the fact of God.

WE KNOW

Atheism doesn’t make sense.

Communism that starts off with the fundamental principle of atheism is essentially stupid.

Dictatorships which set up silly gods or the all-powerful State for the true God are always brutal, unjust, tyrannous. The man who says, “I believe in God,” and who knows how to prove his belief, faces life and sees that it is a beautiful thing, a God-given gift, an opportunity to march through a magnificently-ordered world into the presence of the Rewarder of noble lives, into the presence of our Father Who is in heaven, but who is yet the Creator, Preserver, Guide, and generous Benefactor of this earth and of us who are His children.

Nihil obstat:

F. MOYNIHAN,

Censor Deputatus. lmprimatur:

@ D. MANNIX,

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis. ********

Australia and the Immaculate Conception: 100 Years Ago

By

AMBROSE RYAN, O.F.M

THE year 1954 marks the Centenary of the Solemn Definition by the Church of Our Lady’s Immaculate Conception. By proclamation of Pope Pius XII, the letter Fulgens Corona, it is to be a year of special “Marian” celebrations.

We who have been born since 1854 find it hard to realize that there was a time in the Church when people did not pray: “O Mary conceived without original sin: pray for us.” Such, however, is the case. This beautiful doctrine of our holy faith has been solemnly decreed by the Church only for the past one hundred years.

That does not mean that the Immaculate Conception of Our Blessed Lady was not piously believed in before. Rather is it true that Our Lady was known as “The All-Pure Mother of God,” “The Sinless Virgin Mother,” since the early years of the Church. Under a litany of titles including “Queen conceived without sin” was she invoked for centuries. But not at all times, nor in all places. It is certain, however, that from the 11th century, excluding only a period between 1140–1300 when it was seriously called into question and even denied by learned men, this doctrine has been accurately grasped. Only, however, since 1854 has unhesitating, absolute consent to it been demanded by the Catholic Church.

Preparations for Solemn Decree

Back last century in the 1840’s Pope Pius IX announced to the Catholic Hierarchy that he intended to proceed to define the doctrine of Our Lady’s Immaculate Conception. He asked the Bishops to advise him if they thought the time was “suitable” to do so.

Even to Australia and New Zealand, so distant from Rome in those days and so remote from the rest of the world, the papal letter to the hierarchy eventually came. Our Bishops, few as they were in number, advised the Pope, we feel sure, that they would be happy to see the proposed Dogma published to the world. Their voice was small amongst the hundreds of Bishops contacted, but it was heard.

Meetings

Following on his official letter, Pope Pius IX instructed the leading theologians of the day to draw up the “case for the Immaculate Conception.” And this was competently done in a huge array of learned volumes. Not, of course, that our Popes and Bishops really need long and involved works of theology to back their official statements-rather was the “case” prepared to show to the whole world, non-Catholic, Orthodox, Christian, Jewish, that there were full and ample arguments of “Catholic Tradition” why this definition could be made.

Meetings of the hierarchy, meetings of theologians, were also brought together, and in every possible way the evidence for the definition was clarified and contrary arguments disproved.

Long History

And thus a long, long story in the Catholic Church was about to receive its official “The End.” For I suppose it is true to say, there is no longer story of a theological debate on a point of doctrine in the Catholic Church, and between Catholics, than the story of the Immaculate Conception,

Surprising as it is to us, there were once powerful and very learned Doctors of the Church ranged against this magnificent dogma.

Take, for example, St. Bernard of Clairvaux. St. Bernard is justly regarded as one of the greatest lovers of Mary that Christianity has seen. Do we not all know his “Memorare”? Yet he was unable to reconcile his mind to the doctrine of the Immaculate Conception. How breathtakingly profound this doctrine must really be I

If the Redemption of Jesus Christ was for all people as Holy Scripture asserts in many places, how could Mary, God’s most magnificent creature as she was, be exempted from it ? This was St. Bernard’s problem. And if you assert that she was “immaculately conceived” surely you do exempt her from all trace of sin, original sin included, and hence from all need of Redemption. To honour Mary, in other words, you appear to dishonour Christ and to take something from His greatest work. Was it not His greatest honour that He was able to lift His holy Mother from original sin by His death on the Cross ? And, in her case, to anticipate the work of the Cross by applying His redemptive merits to her as soon as she was capable of being redeemed-in her mother’s womb? In this strain he wrote a Letter to the Canons of Lyons, France, in the year 1140 and advised them “rather to celebrate the Feast of the Sanctification of Mary than the Feast of her Immaculate Conception. It is difficult to see how his latter doctrine can be defended,” thought Bernard of Clairvaux.

[In recent times Father Ailbe Luddy, O.Cist., has ably shown that St. Bernard was confused, as were all others in his day, on the ideas of “passive and active” conception and, because of this, he wrote the letter to the Canons of Lyons. In his own mind he loved Mary dearly and meant not the slightest dishonour to the fairest of God’s creatures. He just couldn’t see how it was possible, without misinterpreting the Sacred text, to defend the Immaculate Conception of a creature].

Confusion Arises

Bernard’s Letter became famous. After all, in his day, he was regarded almost as the “Voice of the Church.” Hence confusion, really sad confusion, arose concerning Our Lady’s entry into the world. Was she in original sin? Sanctified surely like St. John the Baptist in her mother’s womb, and therefore all-holy at every conscious moment of her mortal life, but still begotten in original sin ?

This was the famous question that was to call forth endless discussion pro and con for centuries. Discussions were taken up in colleges, in associations of the faithful, in the great universities, at the papal palace before the Popes themselves. Even from the pulpit the people would hear one preacher thunder forth for the doctrine marshalling all his arguments only to be followed by another who would roundly assert that “Mary was sanctified in her mother’s womb: Yes, surely; but not conceived without original sin. To say this would be to toy with the sacred text of Scripture.”

John Duns Scotus

In the early 14th century (1304), when it seemed that the argument in high places was definitely swinging against the doctrine, God brought forward a Franciscan Friar named John Duns Scotus, a native of Scotland, to defend His Immaculate Mother.

This learned man had been educated at Oxford University. England, which was then in Catholic hands. He had gone over to Paris to obtain his Magisterial Degree for the teaching at the famous Sorbonne. And there, in the course of his lectures to the student body, questions concerning the doctrines of Our Lady arose.

The Immaculate Conception was one. What would; “the man of the day”-for the students dropped everything to flock to his lectures-have to say on this most debated question? What, indeed, since the two great lights of Paris, Bonaventure of Balneoreggio, O.F.M. and Thomas of Aquino, O.P. found no solution to the difficulties and had pronounced, hesitantly it is true, against the Immaculate Conception?

Scotus took the floor, and calmly yet earnestly did he dispose of the various objections. Neither Bonaventure nor Thomas (both afterwards canonised) scared him. He summed up.-When we say that Our Lady was conceived without any stain of original sin we do not exempt her from Christ’s Redemption. No! We only invoke Christ’s Redemptive power in a higher way, for is it not a more perfect thing on Christ’s part to “preserve” Mary free from all sin, which she would have incurred without “preservative Redemption,” than to lift her out of sin soon after her conception? Could Christ Who was God do this ? There are no limits to God’s power so long as the doctrine itself involves no contradiction. Should Christ have done it? Surely He would do the “most perfect thing” for His glorious Mother! Surely He would not leave her for a moment under Satan’s power if He could avoid it! “He could do it; it was fitting that He should do it; therefore (we say in full submission to the Church) He actually did it.”-And Scotus went on to show that Scripture end Tradition could be interpreted to allow for such a “preservative Redemption” in Mary’s case.

The Tide is Turned

History tells us that this completely assured “pious opinion” of John Duns Scotus, as some called it, was the occasion of an immense outburst of debate, argument, recrimination. It is even suggested that the Chancellor of the University of Paris suspended Scotus’s lectures following the defence! And Legend has it that he was called back to take his stand against an array of all the reigning “geniuses” of Paris on this point. The Legend, of course, represents the Franciscan Friar as demolishing the objectors point by point in an extraordinary display of memory work and clever distinctions. The “Subtle” Doctor became his tag.

Be that as it may. One thing is sure. Scotus’s modest and submissive defence turned the tide of Catholic opinion in favour of the doctrine of the Immaculate Conception. It was now possible to defend it on theological grounds.

Wanderings

The tide was turned. But an immense amount of water had yet to ebb and flow before theologians were found in unanimous agreement. Bishops, Popes, Yes! even worldly Rulers had to intervene as, step by step, the doctrine advanced to conquer all minds. University after university pledged itself to teach the doctrine, and ordered its professors to take an oath- to this effect before allowing them to parade their wares; church society after church society incorporated this devotion ;amongst its practices; town after town pledged its support; and many a nation declared “Mary Immaculate” to be its Queen. Pious people often made a vow “that they would defend even unto blood” the doctrine of Our Lady’s complete sinlessness.

One Example

A great and valiant story in the Church is the story of the defence of Mary’s Immaculate Conception.

In a remote village of India, Old Goa, I remember coming across a truly beautiful record of devotion one day in 1939. The record is a plaque inserted into an archway that spans the driveway from the river-front to the town: the Viceroy’s Arch, it is called, and the inscription on the plaque tells how “The King of Portugal and his Goanese Viceroy pledge their personal support, and the support of their people, in favour of the doctrine of the Immaculate Conception. And they promise, as an earnest of their devotion, to have the lettering of this stone renewed as occasion arises.” The last date of renewal was 1831.

You would find similar testimonies all over the Portuguese and Spanish dominions of other days-Mexico, Central. America, South America-for these two nations led the world in sponsoring Mary’s cause.

1854

It is 1854, and the fight is almost over. One hundred and ten Prelates are gathered together by pontifical command in Rome to conduct.”final discussions.” Of these Archbishop Polding of Sydney is one. The theologians of the day were also present. Arguments go backwards and forwards at the meeting as arguments will. There was even hesitation in some minds, for was not this a final summing up, as it were, of theological discussions that had endured for centuries?

Dr. Polding Speaks

Then, as Dom Birt, Benedictine Pioneers in Australia, Vol. 2, p. 201, gives it, came the final scene. “The last half hour of the meeting was one of the most memorable in the annals of the Church.

There had been discussions and hard arguments, when Archbishop Polding rose and came forward saying that he was the representative of 11 Bishops in Australia and was come to bow down to the Holy See. ‘Thou art Pius, we are thy children. Teach us, lead us, confirm our Faith.’ He expressed himself in very simple and touching words. At once the whole assembly was calm-discussion gave way to faith. The Bishops became of one mind and one heart, they wished to be taken to the Pope, to throw themselves at his feet. The Cardinal Legate and whole Episcopate shed tears of joy and consolation. A Jesuit present said ‘he had never realised the visible action of the Holy Ghost as he did in that last half hour.’”

Dr. Polding, concludes Dom Birt, had taken “a decisive part” in these grave deliberations: Australia’s voice had been heard! (Incidentally Dom Birt gives the scene “from a piece of parchment lying before the writer’s eyes, evidently prepared at the very date, or soon after.” Ibid)

The Papal Definition

Pope Pius IX, after hearing the Prelates, decided that he should hesitate no longer. And so on December 8th, 1854, before a magnificent assembly of the Hierarchy, clergy and laity, he pronounced the Solemn Definition: “ . . . to the honour of the holy and undivided Trinity, to the glory and adornment of the Virgin Mother of God, to the exaltation of the Catholic Faith and the increase of the Catholic religion, by the authority of Jesus Christ our Lord, of the blessed apostles Peter and Paul, we declare, pronounce, and define that the doctrine which holds that the Blessed Virgin Mary, at the first instant of her Conception, by a singular privilege and grace of the Omnipotent God, in virtue of the merits of Jesus Christ, the Saviour of mankind, was preserved immaculate from all stain of original sin, has been revealed by God, and therefore should firmly and constantly be believed by all the faithful.”

As he knelt in the tribune of St. Peter’s along with the Prelates of the whole Church and listened to these great words, Archbishop Polding was supremely conscious of his part in representing the very outpost of the Catholic Church, our own Australia.

News Travels Slowly

How soon did news of the wonderful definition reach our shores after December 8th, 1854 ? From a Benedictine Journal written up in longhand at St. Mary’s Cathedral Monastery, Sydney, we gather that no exact information had been forwarded by the Archbishop on the actual definition of the dogma in 1854 or 1855. Here is the entry in this Journal for December 8th, 1855.

“The Feast of the Immaculate Conception. The Dogma relative to the festival not having, as yet, been formally proclaimed, there was nothing very extraordinary in the Cathedral There was Mass, however, at Our Lady’s Altar at six o’clock; and during the seven o’clock Mass her altar was, one might say, a blaze of light.”

The Benedictines and clergy of Sydney had to await the Archbishop’s arrival home on January 26th, 1856, to learn the happy news.

New Zealand Knew

News travelled slowly in those remote days, we know, yet it is an undeniable fact that over in Wellington, New Zealand, Monsignor Viard, S.M., had heard of, and commemorated, the new definition in 1855. Probably his Marist brethren were sending recruits to the mission field just at that time. In a Pastoral Letter to his people in 1865, now having been made Bishop of Wellington, he recalls the event:

“In this Cathedral of St. Mary, for which we now ask your assistance, was promulgated in 1855 the definition of the dogma of the Immaculate Conception of the Most Blessed Virgin, the Holy Mother of God. This event in the history of our infant diocese, must alone endear it to the faithful. We cannot forget the consolation that the fervour of our people in the celebration of the Triduum then afforded us. We cannot recount the Divine blessings and favours that were then manifest; the conversions; the sudden unloosing of the tongue of a child three years old belonging to parents well known in this city, as may be piously believed in answer to their fervent prayers.” (Cardinal Moran, History of the Catholic Church in Australasia, p. 929).

Victorian Gold

And there is also the beautiful story of Victorian gold presented to Pope Pius IX in 1854 by Bishop J. A. Goold, O.S.A., of Melbourne, to remember in this connection. On the 27 day of June, 1854, Bishop Goold addressed the Pope:

“Most Holy Father,

James Alipius, by the grace of God and favour of the Holy See, Bishop of Melbourne, with most grateful feelings and profound homage, offers this gold, dug out of Australasian soil, in the Province of Victoria, as his own gift as well as that of his Clergy and faithful people, to your Holiness, in testimony of fidelity towards the person of your Holiness, and to the Apostolic See. Given at Melbourne.”

Underneath this text, taken from the Victorian Ordo of 1855 (note the date), the compiler records that, “His Holiness has evinced, in a most special manner, his paternal affection for his children in Victoria, by having most graciously condescended to order that the Medals to be struck on the occasion of the Dogmatic Definition of the Immaculate Conception of the Blessed Virgin Mary should be from the gold of his province.” (Victorian Ordo, 1855, in Melb. Public Library).

This seems to indicate that Sydney was the last place in Australia to learn the news. Or, maybe the note in the Victorian Ordo is made in “expectation” of the final decree?

Archbishop Polding in a Letter to the Abbess of Stanbrook, Jan., 15, 1855, gives an interesting sidelight on the use of Victorian gold for the commemorative medals. “One hundred ounces were sent by the miners,” he says, “and from this 300 gold medals were made. Some of the Cardinals wanted a larger medal but the Pope would not agree because other gold would have to be used. . . . Silver medals of exactly the same proportions were also made.” (Benedictine Pioneers, Vol. 2, p. 224). And Bishop Goold closes the story when he records: “I received from the Archbishop the gold medal sent me by His Holiness in commemoration of the dogmatic definition of the Immaculate Conception of the Blessed Virgin.” (From his Diary, Jan. 15th, 1856: Moran, History, p. 781).

Celebrations Announced. 1856

Sydney may have been late, through Dr. Polding’s absence, and lack of information, in celebrating the wonderful new dogma. But the festivities, when they did come in December 1856 and in the months that followed, made up for the delay.

Writing to his clergy and people on November 30th, 1856, Dr. Polding announced his intentions:

“As on Monday, the 8th of December, we shall celebrate for the first time after the Solemn declaration of the Dogma by the Church, and our safe’ return to our dear flock, the Feast of the Immaculate Conception of the ever Blessed Mother of God-we exhort our dearly Beloved children in Jesus Christ to unite in honouring in every possible manner, the most glorious of her privileges, defined in that declaration. Let us studiously emulate the exertions made in Europe, and elsewhere, to testify gratitude, respect, and veneration. We shall gladly receive contributions in money, candles, or in other things intended for the decoration of the Church -and altar. On the 8th of December we shall open the jubilee granted by our Holy Father, which will continue for the Metropolitan Church of Mary during the entire Octave of the Feast. We exhort all to prepare themselves to participate in its inestimable advantages, by a retreat of three days, as their circumstances permit . . .” (Advent Pastoral, 1856; Cf. Benedictine Journal, Nov. 30th, 1856).

A “Word of Mortification”

Just a week after. this announcement, and an the very eve of the festivities, His Grace the Archbishop had to address another, and indeed a most stirring, exhortation to the congregations at St. Mary’s. Here it is:

“Last Sunday, the Faithful of this Congregation, were invited to make their offerings, as it might be convenient to them, in kind, or in labour, or in money, for the adornment of the Altar and the Church during the approaching jubilee. The clergy have the mortification to declare that their call has not hitherto been responded to. They trust it has arisen from inadvertence, and perhaps from the shortness of the notice they have been able to give. But indeed they cannot believe that the congregation of St. Mary’s will not arouse and bestir themselves in honour of this great Festival.”

Times do not change very much, it seems; a “shaking up” was also needed in 1856 ! The exhortation continues:

“Where should the solemn definition of Faith be hailed with devout heart and liberal hand, if not in the Cathedral of the Archdiocese? Where should the Immaculate Conception of the Ever Blessed Virgin Mary be celebrated with inward and outward magnificence, if not in the Church which bears her name ? In all parts of the Northern Hemisphere-in Cathedral town, humble village, the Festival which was kept in honour of the Mother of God, when the Church proclaimed the revelation of her last glorious and long cherished title to be completely ascertained and thenceforward an article of faith, was brilliant and joyous, and grand beyond anything in the memory of man. Let us not, in this metropolis of the Southern Hemisphere, though we are late in time, be laggard in act and cold in heart. What object to the coldest reason even, is there that has so just a claim to the sacrifice and display of everything that is beautiful and exquisite as the Festival of Our Immaculate Mother? Everything that can greet and symbolize purity never approached by shadow of stain; and grandeur which is the fullness of God’s grace, finds here its fitting application, its worthiest devotion. Bring of your richest and best then without stint and without fear . . . (Benedictine Journal, Dec. 7th 1856).

Heartfelt words were these, and they were heeded!

11 o’clock Mass, Dec. 7th

At the last Mass on December 7th, along with the “words of mortification,” the Dean of the Archdiocese, Father McEncroe, read “The Pastoral Letter of John Bede,” By the Grace of God and favour of the Apostolic See, Archbishop of Sydney, On the Jubilee Granted on the Occasion of the Definition of the Immaculate Conception.

It begins:

“To the Faithful of the Archdiocese, Clergy and Laity.

Dearly Beloved. Many and great are the advantages the faithful have received from the solemn dogmatic Definition on the part of the Church of the Immaculate Conception of the ever Blessed Virgin Mary, the Mother of God. Amongst these, by reason of the practical effects, we may consider the Jubilee granted by our Holy Father, Pope Pius IX, not one of the least. That it may be productive of these effects, we shall repeat the instruction on the nature of a Jubilee, which was issued on a former occasion . . .”

A long explanation follows concerning the Jubilee and the three conditions for gaining spiritual benefits attached to it is given, namely, Confession, Communion, Prayers for general prosperity of the Church according to the intentions of the Holy Father.

“In fulfilment of this (last) condition of the Jubilee, we ordain that it will be fulfilled by all who shall assist at Mass on three days, successive or interrupted, not of obligation, with this intention; or, if they have not the opportunity of hearing Mass, they shall recite the seven Penitential Psalms, with the Litany of the Saints, on three different days; or, if they cannot read, shall, instead thereof, recite the beads. And we earnestly hope and recommend that the prayers of all be accompanied by Almsgiving, and most especially by Contributions to the Society of the Propagation of the Faith, or for the relief of the Sufferers by the Inundation which have caused so much calamity in France . . .

And whilst we declare that the Jubilee will continue during the time specified (Dec. 8th till Trinity Sunday), we strongly exhort our beloved Clergy to fix upon some one week, at their principal residence and stations, during which the faithful shall be invited to gain it; and we desire this to be so arranged, that the Clergy may assist each other, and the faithful may have the opportunity of choosing other than their ordinary confessors, if they feel so disposed . . .” (Inserted in Benedictine Journal).

THE FESTIVITIES

“The Festivities in honour of our Immaculate Mother commenced in the Cathedral this evening with Solemn -High Vespers,” writes the Benedictine Chronicler on Dee. 7th, 1856. “His Grace officiated, assisted by the Fr. Dean as Assistant Priest, and Fr. John (Gourbeillon) and Dr. Ignatius (MeClennan) as Assistant Deacons. During Vespers the Sanctuary looked very beautiful. Guided by the tasteful directions of Fr. Abbot Gregory, six tubs, with orange tress growing in them, were placed in different parts of it. The orange trees were about five feet in height . . . Over the altar was suspended from the roof, a magnificent canopy of watered silk. Our Lady’s Altar was also very beautifully decorated. The back of it was lined with white watered silk, and it was hung round with white and blue silks. A corona with six candles, suspended from the roof, hung before the altar. What with flowers, flower vases and candlesticks, the altar itself was entirely covered. During the Vespers it seemed almost one blaze of light . . . I do certainly believe that never on any former occasion did the entire sanctuary look near so beautiful.” (His Grace’s exhortation at the 11 o’clock Mass must have received prompt attention!).

Another Pastoral Letter, Publication of the jubilee, was read at the Vespers. It is a beautiful, highsounding document, one of Australia’s finest Episcopal statements, bearing witness to Dr. Polding’s burning devotion to Our Blessed Lady (given at end). He thanks God for the dogma, enumerates all the wealth of traditional evidence for the Immaculate Conception, and exclaims: “It is a spectacle of wonder and consolation . . . that the occupant of that lowly chair, who appears little more among the potentates of earth than did the Blessed Virgin among the daughters of Judah, should speak with that calm clear voice, and be welcomed and obeyed in his utterance . . .” (Also found inserted in Benedictine Journal, December 8th, 1856).

“The Feast of Our Immaculate Mother has at length arrived. Every endeavour is being made use of to keep up the solemnities of the entire octave with magnificence. For this purpose there will be Pontifical High Mass today, Missa coram Episcopo on Thursday; and on the Octave day there will be another Pontifical High Mass. There will also be each morning a course of spiritual exercises. . . . .Morning Prayers at 5.30 A.M. . . . .Meditation, a lecture, and finally Mass at 7 o’clock. The evening service during the Octave will consist of a lecture, a meditation, night prayers, and Benediction of the Most Blessed Sacrament.”

And then the Chronicler joyfully records:

“The Catholics of Sydney did something to evince their love of Mary, by the manner in which they attended the various services in the Cathedral on this, her own dear Feast. The Cathedral was crowded to excess at the various Masses, and if possible, even more so at Benediction. His Grace celebrated High Mass at 11 o’clock . . . The finest voices that were in Sydney took part in the singing during the Mass. The singing was indeed truly magnificent.”

Crowded congregations were present from day to day, morning and evening. Father Maurus (O’Connell) alternated with His Grace in giving the exercises and the lectures. On the Thursday at the Missa coram Episcopo, “the Cathedral was so crowded that one would imagine the day was a holiday of obligation.” On the Sunday His Grace assisted at the High Mass in cappa magna, and on the Octave day, Monday the 15th, the entry in the journal is:

“This day was, in every respect, kept up in the Cathedral as grandly as the Feast itself. It was even more so, for at the end of Mass, solemn Benediction of the Blessed Sacrament was given, . and a grand Te Deum sung, the choir, and those on the sanctuary singing alternate verses. Thus ended the solemnities in the Cathedral in honour of the Dogma of the Immaculate Conception.”

FESTIVITIES RE-OPENED

But this was not the end. For those who had been prevented from making the jubilee, and for those “who were ignorant of its having been proclaimed” His Grace re-opened the Festivities at the Cathedral for three days at Christmas time. Crowds flocked around again.

May 1857 saw the jubilee celebrations at St. Benedict’s, at Petersham and at “Sacred Heart” Church. Confessions were very heavy. Archbishop Polding was in each place, one after the other, to help the local priest and to inspire the people with something of his own enthusiastic devotion. Everywhere he would speak of “Mary the Immaculate who places herself near the throne of grace to plead for all who invoke her aid.” Everywhere there came to his lips the inspiring words of his splendid Pastoral announcing the jubilee:

“She is the prudent Abigail who knows how to soothe the irritated David. She is the intrepid Judith, who with fearless stroke cuts off the head of the infernal Holofernes. and liberates Bethulia, the city of the children of God. She is the beautiful Esther, excepted from the law of condemnation, whose supplications for her people will not be denied. The Blessed Mother of Jesus is the administratrix, whom He, its King and Ruler Supreme, has placed over the kingdom purchased by His blood. Ruling from the Cross, to His own Blessed Mother did he assign, to a Mother’s love did he bequeath, the care of those millions to whose heart-allegiance he had made good his claim. . Even as the King of Egypt, in that dread famine which laid waste his lands, had but one response, ‘Go to Joseph,’ so in the spiritual famine, in the absence of God’s grace which afflicts us, the response from on high is ‘Go to Mary.’ Go to Mary. She is my Mother, she is your Mother; she has the authority of a mother with me, she has the love of a mother for you . . . Obtain her patronage, Dearly Beloved, and you may say, ‘with her all good things have come to me.’”

Sydney’s celebrations for Our Lady’s Immaculate Conception were also a great demonstration of Archbishop Polding’s intense devotion to Mary. How this Benedictine monk really loved her! In the first days of his priesthood he re-organised a sodality in her honour in his monastery church in England; he abetted Father Therry’s special request that he “have the new colony dedicated to Our Lady” (1841) ; year after year he ordered special devotions in her honour in thanksgiving for his “miraculous escape,” as he believed it to be, from shipwreck in Western Australia (1852), and, later, he promised “that as long as the Benedictine community existed in Sydney these devotions should be continued”; to thank Mary for Bishop Davis’s recovery from serious illness he added “Queen conceived without original sin, pray for us” to the Loreto Litany three years before the Definition. And wherever he went on the mission in Australia he preached beautifully about the holy Mother of Cod. The “Month of May” devotions were held with every sign of splendour and devotion in St. Mary’s Cathedral as long as he was associated with it. And how his heart really overflowed when the Catholics of Sydney crowded to the festivities of 1856–71 He was thrilled to think that he had inspired the greatest demonstration of love for the Blessed Mother ever seen in the Southern Hemisphere.

ALL AUSTRALIA JOINS IN

Writing of Australia’s celebrations in general to honour the new dogma, Cardinal Moran penned the following lines in 1895:

“Nowhere was this solemn definition of the privilege of our Immaculate Lady received with greater enthusiasm and delight than in the Australian Church, which under the title of the Help of Christians honours her as Chief Patron. Triduums of thanksgiving were celebrated in the principal churches, and even the humblest Catholic homestead in the various colonies felt the thrill of the universal rejoicing.” (History, p. 447).

A STORY OF DEVOTION

The celebration of the jubilee was till then, and for decades after, the greatest single demonstration of piety towards Mary seen in the new Australian (and New Zealand) Church. Had. we only reports of the various spiritual festivities in all important centres to hand-we have only those of New South Wales, and Wellington, New Zealand-what fine picture of united devotion to Mary Immaculate could be sketched ?

Up till 1854–56 this was the greatest united effort of devotion towards Mary, but from the very dawn of our history away back in 1606 when Spanish navigators set out to discover the Southern Land, and landed at the Espiritu Santo Islands, Our Lady’s name was linked with the new continent. “In the Name of the Most Blessed Trinity . . . and in honour of the Blessed Virgin Mary, Mother of God,” had De Quiros, the Spanish Captain, claimed possession for Spain “of all southern lands as far as the South Pole.”

One of the first acts of the First Australian Synod, 1844, was to ask the Pope to declare “Our Lady, Help of Christians” Patroness of this new Catholic province. And in the same Synod and others which followed later, we always find our Bishops drafting regulations concerning the worthy celebration of Our Lady’s Feasts, prayers in her honour, instructions on her virtues in the schools, and the Family Rosary. At no time was Our Blessed Lady neglected in the Australian Church. Her rosary, as all Australian Catholics know, has been our precious heritage since the first Irish political convicts were brought to our shores. It was recited on the transport ships, it was said “in the barracks,” a pious group of freed-convicts used to gather in Sydney homes to say it together two or three times each week. And the settlers in outback places-how they loved their Rosary!

LASTING EFFECTS OF 1854–56

The Festivities of 1854–56 marked a new increase of piety towards Mary in Australia, so we are told. Are there any lasting memorials of this? It seems there are.

Firstly, St. Mary’s Cathedral, Sydney, Mother Church of Australia, is always known after the Definition as “Mary Immaculate, Help of Christians.” Archbishop Polding had seen to that.

Secondly, Sydney Archdiocese was dedicated especially to Mary Immaculate.

Thirdly, Perth Diocese and Port Victoria (now Northern Territory) were dedicated to Mary Immaculate, at the intercession of Dr. Serra, O.S.B., a short time before the Definition. The original copies of Pope Pius IX’s confirmation of these dedications, with Indulgences granted, were received in Perth in 1854 and are still preserved in the Archdiocesan archives.

Fourthly, in the Benedictine religious communities (the Community at St. Mary’s was disbanded soon after this date) special devotions were held in December. And the Sisters of the Good Samaritan founded with Dr. Polding’s help were given, as part of their religious habit, a blue ribbon in honour of Mary Immaculate.

And, of course, the use of prayers and invocations in honour of “Mary conceived without sin” begun by Dr. Polding in thanksgiving for Bishop Davis’s recovery from illness, and by Dr. Serra for his Associations of the Immaculate Mother in Perth and New Norcia, were now confirmed.

WORLD WIDE MOVEMENT

Within two years of the Sydney Festivities Our Lady appeared at Lourdes to confirm directly, as it seems, the great definition. This thrilling apparition, the greatest apparition of Mary that the world had known, added immense drive to the growing cult of the Immaculate Mother. The “Marian Age” was begun. Since that date one has only to number the shrines, chapels, churches, dedicated to Mary Immaculate and Our Lady of Lourdes in Australia and New Zealand to see how we, too, have joined in the world movement to honour the dogma and its sequel at Lourdes.

ARCHBISHOP POLDING’S PASTORAL LETTER, 1856

Publication, in the Archdiocese of Sydney, of the Jubilee, granted by our Holy Father Pius IX, on the occasion of the Definition of the Dogma of the Immaculate Conception

John Bede, of the Holy Order of St. Benedict, Archbishop-Assistant to the Pontifical Throne, Prelate of the Household of His Holiness Pius IX, etc., by the Grace of God, and of the Holy Apostolic See, Archbishop of Sydney, and Metropolitan of Australia. To the Faithful of the Archdiocese, Clergy and Laity, Grace and Blessing.

“The time has at length arrived, Dearly Beloved, when we also, in our far distant regions, are to celebrate the jubilee granted by the Holy Father in honour of the Immaculate Conception of the Mother of God. In the fullness of time it is now placed on high as a dogma, bright and clear in the intellect and utterance of the Church, as it has ever been a doctrine loved and cherished in her heart. We are somewhat late in joining our voices to the general acclamation and homage of Christendom; let a gratitude by so much the more earnest and thoughtful show, that we do not the less vividly appreciate the great object of every jubilee-the crushing of the head of sin. Fecit mihi magna qui potens est; this is the simple and sublime sentence which, uttered in solemn and significant accent at the Centre of Unity, has been heard by Christian ears above the din of war, and the boasts of science, and the jangling of world peace. Fecit mihi magna qui potens est; may you all, Dearly Beloved, during the jubilee sing your Magnificat with a more intelligent gratitude, having experienced within yourselves those “great things,” a true penitence and a holy love, wrought out by the efficacy of His blood, whose foreseen merits conferred upon the Blessed Virgin, His Mother and our Mother, that most noble and singular gift of Redemption, her Immaculate Conception.

“The monuments of venerable antiquity in both Eastern and Western Church testify that this doctrine of the Immaculate Conception of the Blessed Virgin has always existed within the Church as a doctrine received from the beginning, and marked with the character of revelation. Amongst all nations of the Catholic world, wonderfully propagated, it has ever accumulated whatever of explanation, and illustration, and confirmation, could be given to it, by the patronage, and zeal, and science, and most intimate conviction of the Church. For indeed the Church of Christ, the diligent keeper and guardian of the dogmas committed to her, changes nothing in them, diminishes nothing, adds nothing.

“The Holy Fathers and Doctors of the Church, taught by the heavenly oracles, have, from the earliest ages, when they have been engaged in explaining Scripture, in defending true doctrine, or instructing the faithful, vied with each other in setting forth and extolling the peculiar sanctity of the Blessed Virgin, her dignity, her entire immunity from all stain of sin. And so, when they cited the words in which God announced the remedy prepared by His mercy at the very beginning of the world for the restoration of mankind, and crushing the fraudful serpent, raised up a wonderful hope for our race, saying “I will put enmities between thee and the woman, between thy seed and her seed,” they taught, that in this divine oracle was brightly and distinctly foreshown the merciful Redeemer of mankind, Jesus Christ the only begotten Son of God, that the Virgin Mary was designated to be His most blessed Mother, and at the same time special prominence was given to the peculiar characteristic enmity of each against the devil. Wherefore, as Christ the mediator between God and man, having assumed human nature, blotted out the handwriting of the decree against us, and, as a conqueror, affixed it to His cross; so, that holiest Virgin, bound by close and indissoluble bond to Him, did together with Him and through Him, pursue the everlasting enmity against the baneful serpent, and with abounding triumph, did, with immaculate foot, crush his head.

“And the Holy Fathers saw this singular triumph of the Blessed Virgin, her surpassing innocence, her purity, her sanctity, her integrity from all harm of sin, the original ineffable abundance and grandeur in her ‘of all heavenly graces, and virtues. and privileges they saw it everywhere in the divine records; they saw it in that Ark of Noah which, divinely constructed, escaped perfectly safe and unharmed from the wreck of the whole world; they saw it in that ladder, which Jacob beheld reaching from earth to heaven, on the steps of which the angels of God were ascending and descending, and on whose summit rested God Himself; they saw it in that bush, which on holy ground Moses beheld all burning, and amidst the flame of fire not consumed nor suffering any the least loss, but verdant in beauty and flourishing; they saw it in that tower, impregnable before the face of the enemy, from which hung a thousand bucklers, and all the armour of the strong; they saw it in that enclosed garden, which cannot be rifled, nor broken through by any snares of deceit; they saw it in that resplendent City of God, whose foundations are on the sacred hills; they saw it in that most august temple of God, which, glowing with divine splendours, is full of the glory of the Lord; and in countless other instances of the like kind have the Fathers in succession taught us to behold a special foreshadowing of the lofty dignity, the unspotted innocence, and the sanctity which having never at any time been exposed to blemish, ever dwelt in the Mother of God.

“In addition to this summary as it were of divine gifts, and in describing the original spotlessness of the Virgin of whom Jesus was born, the same writers apply the words of the Prophets, and unite in celebrating the same august Virgin as the pure dove, the holy Jerusalem, the lofty throne of God, the ark and dwelling place of holiness which Eternal Wisdom built for herself; as that Queen who abounding in delights, and leaning on her Beloved, proceeded altogether perfect out of the mouth of the Most High, beautiful and intimately dear to God, and never spotted by any blemish of ill. And when the Fathers and writers of the Church dwelt in heart and mind on the fact that the Angel Gabriel in announcing the sublime dignity of the Mother of God, did by command, and in the name of God Himself, style her ‘full of grace,’ they taught that by this peculiar and solemn salutation never elsewhere heard, it was signified that the Mother of God had been, from the first moment of her existence, and was, the seat of all divine graces, adorned with all the gifts of the Holy Spirit, nay, a very treasure house of those gifts all but infinite, an unexhausted abyss, so that, never having been subject to malediction, and united to her Son in benediction, she merited to hear from Elizabeth, inspired by the Holy Spirit, benedicta Tu inter mulieres, et benedictus fructus ventris tui, ‘Blessed art thou amongst women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb Jesus.’

“And therefore our Holy Father the Pope confiding in the Lord that the seasonable time had arrived for defining the Immaculate Conception of the Virgin Mary the most holy Mother of God, which the divine oracles, venerable tradition, the perpetual instinct of the Church, the singular accord of Catholic prelates and the faithful throughout the world, the Acts and Constitutions of his Predecessors had united in proclaiming as the constant belief of the Church; all these things having been thoroughly and diligently weighed, with assiduous and fervent prayers to God, he, the Supreme Head of the Church, decided to proceed without delay to define, formally and authoritatively, the Immaculate Conception of the Blessed Virgin, and thus to satisfy the pious desires of the Catholic world, and in her to honour more and more her only begotten Son our Lord Jesus Christ, since all honour and laud offered to the Mother redounds to the glory of the Son.

“In humility then, with prayer and fasting, the Holy Father, by authority of our Lord Jesus Christ, of the Apostles Peter and Paul, and by his own, declares, pronounces, and defines the doctrine, which holds, that The Most Blessed Virgin Mary in the first instant of Her Conception was by the singular grace and privilege of Almighty God, in view of the merits of Christ Jesus the Saviour of the human race, preserved from all stain of original sin, to be revealed by God, and thereupon to be by all the faithful firmly and constantly believed.

“And thus, Dearly Beloved, when the world thinks not of the Church, or thinks only to despise her, she speaks from her appointed seat and claims to be heard ‘as one having authority.’ It is a spectacle of wonder and of consolation; of wonder, that the occupant of that lowly chair, who appears little more among the potentates of earth than did the Blessed Virgin among the daughters of Judah, should speak with that calm clear voice, and be welcomed and obeyed in his utterance; of consolation, that our dear Mother is to be greeted with renewed love and honour,. she who covets love and honour only as they extend the faith and love of her Son, who is God blessed for ever. Do you, my dear children, bear ever this thought with you in your gratitude and jubilation, and if in the warmth of your hearts you would desire to hear her voice, think that all she ever says and does is comprehended in that great saying of hers at the marriage feast. ‘Whatsoever He saith unto you, do it.’

“The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ be with you all. Amen. ‘By order of the Most Reverend the Archbishop,

H. G. ABBOT GREGORY, D.D.,

Vicar General Feast of St. Francis Xavier, 1858.”

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Australia’s Forgotten Patroness

REV. A. AYERS, S.D.B

INDEX

AN EMBARRASSING REQUEST

Quite recently an Australian priest received an embarrassing letter from a missionary in India. He had written to the Marianist College, Dayton, U.S.A., the letter stated, requesting information on devotion to Mary, Help of Christians. There the good Marianists had searched high and low in their library- the most complete Marian collection in the English language- but nowhere could they find any literature on devotion to Mary under this title.

In expressing their regret they suggested that the missionerwrite to Australia, where there was sure to be “any amount” of material, as Our Lady was recognized as national Patroness of that country. The embarrassment of our local priest may easily be imagined when a hunt for the “abundant” material proved absolutely fruitless. Australia had not so much as a single book on devotion to its national or, better, forgotten Patroness.

AUSTRALIA’S APATHY

Such an incident revealed the neglect that has characterized Australia’s attitude to its Patroness over the last 114 years. Only a handful of Catholic homes and, for that matter, very few churches display a picture of Mary under this title. How many would recognize such a picture were they to see one and how many know anything of the meaning or origin of this title?

The old excuse that we are not a demonstrative people- that we hate a fuss- is no longer valid. An Olympic Games and two Royal visits have shown that we are as keen as the next nation when it comes to a show, provided that our interest and enthusiasm are up. The. truth is that we are apathetic only when we have no heart in a cause. For over a century now we have left our Patroness in comparative oblivion, content to bring out her image for a half-hearted dusting, so to speak, on May 24th each year.

A DUBIOUS DISTINCTION

As Catholics, we must be quite a puzzle to the new Australians. Coming as they do from countries where devotion to the Patroness is synonymous with loyalty to the Faith, they must look around for some manifestation of our national devotion. The half-empty church pews at Mass on May 24th would not do much to enlighten them.

Every country in the old world and beyond holds its patron in pride of place. There is no Irishman worthy of the name who has not taken with him all the world over an inborn love for Saint Patrick. Saint Joan of Arc means everything to a Frenchman, and the eyes of the Pole take on a new light at the name of Our Lady of Czestochowa. I have seen migrant Mexican farmers coming in from the strawberry fields of California to crowd like children around the picture of their beloved Lady of Guadalupe. Not even the Red hammer could smash the traditional icons of Mary that still adorn the cottages of the Ukraine.

Only in our own Catholic garden at home do we let the weeds grow high. As a nation we have a liking for exceptions and distinctions. Of all our distinctions the most dubious must surely be that of having the most neglected national Patroness of any country in the world. And yet the title “Help of Christians” is ideally suitable for our country’s Patroness at the present time, as a glance at the meaning and origin of the title will show.

MEANING OF THE TITLE

It is significant that those twin dreadnoughts of the Catholic Faith, Chesterton and Belloc, cherished a life long devotion to Mary, Help of Christians. The title has a martial ring all its own. It conjures up visions of sea battles, crusading armies, and papal victories against superior odds. Little wonder, then, that these two writers had nailed Mary’s colours to their mast right from the outset. Their studies in history had given them a sharp picture of Mary’s dramatic intervention in the Church’s battles. They had seen her suddenly appearing from a clear, blue sky, century after century, to crush a persecution from without or to suppress a heresy from within. Time and again in his books Belloc turns back, as if in fascination, to Mary’s victory at Lepanto—“the greatest Christian triumph since the days of Charles Martel”—while the same victory inspired Chesterton’s stirring ballad, “Lepanto.”

At times you can sense their regret at not having been there under Mary’s banner, at having missed the chance of firing literal, and not merely literary, broadsides, at the enemies of God’s church. Their admiration for the powerful Queen of the Church knew no bounds. That is precisely the distinctive quality of this title in a nutshell. “Help of Christians” signifies Mary exercising her mediation in favour of the Church and its Sovereign Pontiff in the more critical moments of history. Its outstanding features are the might and timeliness of Mary’s help.

Even the enemies of the Church recognize this. By some diabolical instinct the communists in China have reserved their bitterest persecution and most atrocious tortures for the Legion of Mary members. What angel of darkness has taught the Reds to dread the heel that will crush their head? The world is rapidly resolving itself into two camps: the blue army of the Woman terrible as an army in battle array, and the Red ranks of Satan- an enmity as old as Adam, and one foretold in his presence to the serpent: “I will put enmities between thee and the woman, and thy seed and her seed: she shall crush thy head, and thou shalt lie in wait for her heel” (Gen. iii. 15.).

TIMELINESS OF THIS TITLE

It comes as something of a shock to most of us to realize Our Lady’s might and determination in a crisis. Brought up from childhood on concepts of Mary’s sweetness, we find it hard to picture her in the think of the battle against the enemies of the Church. To see her as a more powerful commander, intervening mightily to guard the rights of the Church, is to see her in a new role. Such a realization should give a red-blooded transfusion to our all too anaemic devotion to Mary.

If the Catholic conscience has been rudely reawakened by the events and message at Fatima it has been due to Mary’s strong warning of impending disaster to the world, and to the provision of hell that she gave to the three children. It has brought us back to fundamentals, to a face-to-face vision of the last things—judgment, heaven and hell.

Until now we have been inclined to forget that God’s Mother is Queen of the Church militant, as well as the Church triumphant. just why it is difficult to know. Her Divine Son, after all, was to be a Sign of contradiction. Persecutors were to stalk Him and His Church from the beginning. Did we expect God’s Mother to stand idly by and not intervene as the Help of Christians, when the city of God was under siege?

To the anti-Christian governments of the nineteenth century this warlike title was an object of hatred and a source of terror. It will be no less so for their modern antireligious counterparts. For in the dreaded cry, “Help of Christians,” these enemies of God will hear not merely a challenge and a battle hymn, but a note of triumph and a paean of victory for the Church. It will recall, to their mind, however unwillingly, a war already fought and already won, for the battleground was the Hill of Calvary nearly 2000 years ago, on aday that only Christians call “good.” Yet Christ died for all men, and this divine amnesty is still open to all- even to His enemies. This title is no innovation. There is nothing novel about it. It has deep roots in Catholic teaching, Scripture and tradition, and its fruits are evident at every turn of Church History.

REASONS FOR THIS TITLE

As Cardinal Newman has poetically reminded us, all Mary’s glories are for the sake of her Son. Every title and privilege of Mary can be traced back to the title “God’s Mother.” She is Immaculate and assumed into Heaven, because it is only fitting that in her conception God’s Mother be wholly pure, and that after death her body should be free from corruption.

To the same Divine Motherhood the title “Help of Christians” can trace its source. When Our Saviour had finished the work given Him to do by His Father, it was to Mary’s care that He bequeathed the infant Church and its individual members. “He saith to the disciple- Behold thy mother. And from that hour the disciple took her to his own” (John xix, 27.).

Mary’s help is, therefore, twofold. It embraces the universal church in its battles of history, and it extends to the daily battle in the soul of every Christian. St. Bernard’s “Memorare” is eloquent testimony that no Pope nor simple Christian has ever called on Mary’s help in vain.

This mediation is set down quite clearly in the Gospel. A young couple, embarrassed by the shortage of wine at their weddingfeast, had their needs anticipated by Our Lady’s help and, by the first miracle of Her Divine Son, new wine was theirs without the asking. How typical of the little personal touch in Mary’s help! At Pentecost, when the newly ordained priests had lost their native courage and when the infant Church looked like being smothered in its cradle, it was in prayer “with Mary, the Mother of Jesus” that the Apostles settled down to wait for the coming of the Paraclete. Here we have the prime example of Mary’s social mediation.

The early Christian writers were fond of seeing prototypes of Mary in the wars of the Old Testament. A Judith beheading Holofernes, an Esther crushing Aman, inevitably led them to a comparison of the Help of Christians delivering the Church from peril. The rock Catechism of the Catacombs teaches us the same lesson. On the walls are depicted images of Mary dating back to the second century, seated Queen-like, as if making an intercessory gesture for the Church underground. The ancient, veneratedpainting, “Salus Populi Romani,” The Help of the Roman People, confirms this. So also does the oldest Marian prayer known to Christendom, begging Mary’s help.

In Church History, finally, is found the most telling confirmation of this title, Help of Christians. Time and again we come across the broken pens of heretics and the charred fleets of persecutors, floating like so much debris on the rocks at Mary’s feet. So numerous have been the incidents, and so dramatic their story, that they merit a section to themselves.

IN CHURCH HISTORY

The annals of Church History read like a litany of Mary’s victories. When the Church chants in her praise, “Thou alone hast destroyed all heresies,” it is no mere lyrical flight of fancy. Our Lady, Help of Christians, has done just that.

In fact, as early as the fifth century the heresy of Nestorius rises up, denying Mary to be the Mother of God. All Christendom is roused, and two hundred bishops, assembled at Ephesus, condemn this perverse doctrine. The townspeople go wildwith joy at seeing their Mother’s title vindicated, and at night they chair home the bishops by torch light to the accompaniment of Marian hymns and cheering.

Only three centuries later the Iconoclasts bring out the warped doctrine that the veneration of images is idolatry. Priceless statues, including those of the Blessed Virgin, are put to the hammer, until God sends his champion in John Damascene, renowned saint and writer. In their blind fury the Iconoclasts cut off John’s hand, but Mary miraculously intervenes to restore the hand that has defended her honour so well.

The Albigensians next attempt to pollute the wells of Faith in Europe, and once again it is Mary most holy who reveals to the sons of St. Dominic the pure doctrinal antidote of the Mysteries of the Holy Rosary. When, finally, Luther opens all the flood-gates of error on to Catholic Europe, the Queen of the Church immediately appears to a Spanish soldier at Manresa. She inspires Ignatius Loyola to found the Jesuit Order that is to be the bulwark of the Church in this critical hour.

THREE TURNING POINTS

So it was also at those three turning points of history, Lepanto, Vienna, and Fontainebleau. The Rosary was to prove mightier than the sword, and Mohammedan and Napoleonic armies were to find worse than a Waterloo in Mary. That of Lepanto was such a manifestly miraculous victory that it merits a treatment apart.

At Vienna in 1683 the Moslem hordes were pressing at the gates of the city when the Polish king, John Sobieski, inflicted an unexpected defeat on them by the help of Our Lady. This victory gave the first impulse to the wave of confraternities that was to sweep throughout Austria and Bavaria in honour of Mary, Help of Christians.

Untaught by the bitter lessons of those who had gonebefore him, Napoleon in turn was to burn his fingers on Mary’s mantle around the Church. For five years the power crazed corporal held Pope Pius VII prisoner, first at Savona and later at Fontainbleau. The rosaries of Catholic Europe went up to Mary most holy. “Does the Pope expect his excommunication to make my soldiers lay down their arms?” was Napoleon’s sneer. There was bitter irony in the despatch from the Russian front a short time later: the French soldiers could not hold their rifles for the cold. When the Holy Father returned to Rome it was a veritable triumph all the way. He re-entered Rome on May 24th, 1814. In his moment of triumph Pius VII did not forget his deliverer. His first official act was to set aside May 24th each year in Rome as the feast of Mary, Help of Christians.

THE GLORY OF LEPANTO

One glorious chapter above all shines out of the pages ofChurch History as Mary’s hour. It is dated 1571, and bears the heading “Lepanto.” There never was, and perhaps there never will be, a time when the armies of Christendom, motivated by such genuine chivalry, were so united in God’s cause. Gone were the petty rivalries and lucrative self- seeking that had marred the Crusades many years before. Gone were the rnercenaries and soldiers of fortune who had dragged the Christian name in the mud on their grudging and divided way to the Holy Places. For on this occasion the peril was far too imminent, and the cause far too noble, for any political interest or any self-indulgence.

The scimitars of Mohammed had swept eastern Europe, and the shadow of the crescent had all but eclipsed the Cross. When the saintly Pope Pius V sounded the alarm, the Emperor’s son, Don John of Austria, led those who answered the call. A combined fleet, comprising Spanish, Venetian and Papal elements, was put at his command.

Down to the ships in Messina they rode, these tight-lipped, clear-eyed sons of the Church, inspiring in their formidable ranks behind the last knight of Christendom. At home the Christian families were on their knees, reinforcing their armies abroad with the most powerful of spiritual weapons, their holy Rosaries rising up like so much battle smoke to the mighty Queen of the Church.

The encounter itself took place in the gulf of Lepanto off the Greek coast in the Ionian Sea. From start to finish it was the bloodiest of battles and the purest of poetry. History was to witness that day a rare combination of powder and dogma, as two mighty religious powers were locked in a struggle to the death- “a collision of strong creeds,” as Belloc liked to call it. For our description of the battle we are indebted to a remarkable historical document, the value of which has long been overlooked. It reads with the vividness and urgency of a press despatch, and it bears every hall-mark of authenticity. It was written on November 12th 1571, only thirty-five days after the events at Lepanto. The writer was Peter Canisius, later a canonized Jesuit saint. The information was received from the Archduke of Bavaria, who had the despatches directly from his first cousin, Don John of Austria, the Captain-General of the combined Christian fleet.

DESCRIPTION OF THE BATTLE

“On Sunday, October 7th,” Peter Canisius’s account begins, “God was pleased to bring low the pride of our foes. They came on merrily with a great shout, all their sails and oars in action, absolutely certain of victory. Our men, having first reconciled themselves to God by confession and penance, . . . put their trust in the Living God.

“At a certain signal a crucifix was raised aloft in every ship in the fleet. Don John of Austria, clad in complete armour and standing in a conspicuous place on the prow of his ship, now knelt down to implore God’s blessing. Every man followed his example. The soldier, with his firelock at the ready, knelt at his post by the bulwark. The gunner knelt with his lighted match beside his gun. The decks gleamed with kneeling men in mail.

“A stiff, sirocco wind began to blow, causing the battle smoke to drift towards the enemies” ships, so that they could not see our position. It was the work of God that 180 galleys were captured or sent to the bottom, that the Christians held captive on the Turkish ships turned their arms against their captors, and that the Catholic fleet should gain in the space of four hours a triumph without its like in Church history. The Turkish chiefs without exception and 30,000 Turkish soldiers were killed or captured.”

Back in Rome, meanwhile, Pope Pius V had suddenly interrupted his affairs of state with a rapt expression on his face. “Kneel down, gentlemen,” he said, “this is no time for business. Let us thank Mary for a singular Christian victory.” It was October 7th. Mary had granted her beloved servant a vision of that victory in the distant Ionian Sea.

It had been no cheap victory. Over 7000 Christian soldiers had paid the supreme price for the faith of their fathers, and many, including the Spanish author Cervantes, carried scars of the battle to their grave. A war-weary Don John of Austria rode to Loreto, there to lay at Mary’s shrine the spoils of the victory that was really hers.

ORIGIN OF THE TITLE

Until quite recently a popular tradition attributed to Pius V the addition of the title, “Help of Christians,” to the Litany of Loreto in gratitude for the Lepanto victory. Both the Roman Breviary and the Decree for the institution of the Feast in 1815 follow this opinion, although there is no mention of such an addition in the Acts of the Pontificate of Pius V.

In 1902 the German scholar, Dr. Paulus, came across an ancient copy of the Litany of Loreto. It was printed at Dillingen in 1558, fourteen years before Lepanto, and clearly includes the title “Help of Christians.” The title, in fact, not only antedates the battle of Lepanto but is at least eight years earlier than the pontificate of St. Pius V. There is still extant a fragment dated as early as 1524 containing the invocations “Advocate, of Christians” and “Help of Sinners,” which passed by an easy transition into the “Help of Christians” of the 1558 Litany.

Admittedly, the Christian soldiers, returning in triumph from the Lepanto battle, must have lent wings to the spread of this devotion throughout Europe, but it was already established prior to the battle. A French author, Pere Feuiller was the first to slip into the historical error mentioned above, and later historians have followed his lead since his book was published in 1674. Bavaria and, later, Piedmont seem to have been the centres of this devotion in Europe but its roots, as we have seen, go back even deeper. They sprang up from the Church’s spontaneous cry for Mary’s help in its critical hours, as early as the persecutions of Nero- as early as the church itself.

APOSTLE OF THIS DEVOTION

At the outset of the nineteenth century this devotion, together with so many practices of Catholic life, seemed to be dying a lingering death in the anti-religious climate of Europe. Then came the triumph of 1814. Just one year after Pius VII returned in triumph to Rome, there was born in Piedmont a boy who was destined to be the champion of Our Lady, Help of Christians.

At the age of nine John Bosco had a dream. He saw before him a herd of wild animals which a voice asked him to tame. When the little fellow, all bewildered, objected that such a task was impossible, he was told that he would be given a Queen and a Mistress before whom all things would be pacified.

When some fifteen years later, the newly ordained Don Bosco set out to do Mary’s work, Italy was at its lowest spiritual ebb. The freemasons were stamping out the religious orders one by one. Garibaldi and his red-shirted thugs were soon to march on Rome. The anti-clerical and depraved spirit of Italian youth was a byword.

In such an atmosphere this favoured son of Mary serenely set about multiplying churches, schools and works of charity. In his own lifetime he gave to Mary over 2000 priests, the two mighty Salesian Congregations, and a Third Order. And everywhere he went he championed Mary’s name. He wrote books and pamphlets to show the timeliness of Mary’s help in history. He preached sermons and organized novenas to propagate this devotion. He spread abroad her medals and pictures. To all he gave the special blessing of Our Lady, Help of Christians, at times with miraculous results. It got to the point where the natural and the supernatural were so interwoven in his life that it was hard to tell them apart. People began to call Mary, Help of Christians,”Don Bosco’s Madonna.”

To crown it all he erected in Turin a magnificent Basilica to Mary, Help of Christians with a painting over the high altar of Our Lady royally regarding the Church and the Apostles. To build it Don Bosco drew heavily on the bank of faith. When the first heavy payments of several thousand lire were due, Don Bosco upturned his purse into the waiting hand of the builder to reveal the princely sum of fourpence. The contractor’s words on that occasion are not on record—perhaps just as well- but they would hardly measure up in any case to Don Bosco’s spirit of faith and sense of humour. He declared solemnly that Mary built the Church herself and that every brick was some token of Mary’s help.

When, finally, worn threadbare in Mary’s service, Don Bosco lay dying on a winter’s morning in 1888, the Angelus bell tolled out from the Basilica he had built nearby. It was the voice of his Madonna calling him home. Those Salesians around his deathbed realized then, as they had never realized before the meaning of Don Bosco’s well worn refrain: “If you have devotion to Mary, Help of Christians, you will see what miracles are.”

THIS DEVOTION IN AUSTRALIA

How did this devotion, with its root so deep in the historical soil of the old world, come to be transplanted to our newly discovered Southland? Did our early Catholic pioneers see a parallel between the persecuted Church in Europe and the Church in Australia, born in bondage, and turn instinctively to the same Help of Christians?

Like so much of Australia’s early Catholic history, the origin of our devotion to Our Lady, Help of Christians, is a puzzle to be pieced together, as best it can, from fragmentary records and conjecture. This much we do know: that when Father Therry was looking for a name for Australia’s first Catholic church in Sydney in 1821 he did not look beyond “Mary Help of Christians”—a title that popular voice has shortened to St. Mary’s.

In 1844 the Provincial Synod, held at Sydney, appointed Mary, Help of Christians, subject to the approval of the Holy See, as principal Patroness of Australasia. Remarkably enough, the Acts and Decrees of the Synod, published at Sydney by Cunningham, make no mention of this appointment. Yet such a decree did exist, as Monsignor McGovern has shown. He has brought to light a long forgotten petition to the Holy See, made by Archbishop Polding in 1847, that expressly mentions this decree about Our Lady’s Patronage. All the Acts of the Australian Synod, and presumably the decree in question, received the approval of the Holy See in 1852, after the documents had been taken on an adventurous trip around the world, mislaid in a Bishop’s suitcase.

St. Patrick’s College, Manly, has been the unofficial headquarters of the spread of devotion to Mary, Help of Christians, in Australia, and there, most probably, are the best records on this subject. But records can tell us so much and no more. Just who the prime mover of this devotion in Australia was, no historical document will ever tell us.

The names of Father Therry, Archdeacon McEncroe, Archbishop Polding, and Bishop Murphy suggest themselves in turn, with some justification in every case. One interesting suggestion was that the devotion migrated here with Father Jeremiah O”Flynn, who came to Sydney in 1816, when the memory of the triumph of Pius VII was still fresh in the Catholic mind. It is an engaging theory, but one that would be difficult to establish.

Closer to the truth would be the opinion that Father Therry learnt it from his parish priest in his boyhood parish in Cork. This French priest was an exile from the Napoleonic regime, and had fled to Ireland just prior to Napoleon’s downfall and the triumph of Mary, Help of Christians. Even here we are still walking largely on the grounds of conjecture. In all probability the solution to this enigma lies buried with the mortal remains of Father John Therry, awaiting the day of resurrection in his own Church of Mary, Help of Christians.

IN MELBOURNE

Melbourne was not to be without its apostle of Mary, Help of Christians. He was the late Father Joseph King, P.P., first pastor of the parish of Our Lady, Help of Christians, East Brunswick. The early parishioners from there still recall how Father King was a latter-day Don Bosco, never letting a chance go by without inculcating a deep devotion to the great Help of Christians.

Not content with erecting the fine church surmounted by its gilt-copper statue of our Patroness, Father King commissioned a local artist, Mr. John Hennessy, to visit Don Bosco’s church in Turin. There the artist studied the famous painting over the high altar in detail, and to such good effect that a magnificent replica of it today graces Our Lady’s sanctuary in East Brunswick. When one of Father King’s former altar-boys was raise to the episcopate in 1956, he chose to adorn his coat-ofarms with Mary’s name in token of the devotion learnt in his childhood parish.

Another Melbourne church, one of the diocese’s finest, can boast of historical links with this devotion. The splendid Byzantine Church of Our Lady of Victories, Camberwell, takes its name from the Lepanto battle. Its west window, at the rear of the Church, is a masterpiece of devotion and craftsmanship in stained-glass. It depicts Mary victorious at Lepanto, surrounded by the main figures connected with that historic battle.

Several dioceses, Melbourne included, have conducted novenas in recent years for May 24th. More and more priests on ferial days offer up Votive Masses, to Mary, Help of Christians, and the laity are making it a habit to ask for her special blessing, found in the Ritual, in times of sickness. For some time now the Hierarchy with Cardinal Gilroy in the lead has made valiant efforts to restore our Patroness to her rightful place of honour. All in all, there are promising signs of a second Spring in our Marian devotion in this country.

MARKS OF THIS DEVOTION

Simply enough, the characteristic marks of this devotion are a good Christian life and a deep loyalty to the Holy See. There is no place for self-satisfying piety here and no new formula of prayers, but rather an insistence on fundamentals—Confession and Holy Communion. These never remain mere sodality practices for the true devotee of Mary, but become vital and effective means of Grace for a good Christian life. Through such a life runs the Holy Rosary like a communication line to Heaven.

Yet the acid test of a true Catholic and devotee of Mary today is loyalty to the Holy See. There is no question of infringing on patriotism, of overstepping the divinely drawn line between God’s rights and Caesar’s. Loyal Catholics, in fact, always make loyal citizens. When the Red puppet-governrnents of occupied Europe, or of Red China, scream charges of “Vatican reactionary” or of “subversive loyalties” at a victim, we know at Whom the real charge is levelled. Loyalty to the Holy See is loyalty to Jesus Christ. “He who heareth you, heareth Me. He who despiseth you, despiseth Me.”

It is superfluous nowadays to make fine distinctions between official statements and private opinions of the Holy See. The wish of the Holy Father ought to become a command for a true Catholic. And since his authority is vested in the bishops, our loyalty must be extended to them also. Their statements must be defended in public and in private. There is no place for an apologetic attitude, for toning down the Church’s forthright condemnation of divorce, immodest dress, unjust education tax, communism and forbidden societies. The Catholic layman and Catholic laywoman are on trial every moment of the day. They will find the courage of their Christian convictions only in the strong Queen of the Church.

CENTRE OF THIS DEVOTION

Just as the name of Fatima will always stir up the well-springs of Catholic devotion to the Immaculate Heart, by reason of its association with Mary’s apparitions in 1918, so should the name of Turin strike a familiar chord in the heart of every Catholic in Australia. It was here, in this sizeable city of Northern Italy, that Saint John Bosco was to establish a centre of worldwide devotion to Mary, Help of Christians. It was here that he erected, under Mary’s inspiration, the mighty Basilica already mentioned. It was from here, finally, that he wished his Salesian sons to carry on his life’s work of spreading devotion to Our Blessed Mother under this title.

For nineteen years Don Bosco carried the idea of this great Church in his mind. A clear blue-print, complete down to the last detail, had already been drawn up for him in a dream vision by no less an architect than the Mother of God herself. Finally, in 1863, he began the work. Although large-scale extensions have been made on the church since World War II, the original plan already covered a vast area. The dominant feature was, of course, to be the magnificent cupola, surmounted by the bronze statue of Our Lady. On each side of the large central dome was a smaller one. Regarding these two smaller domes there is a curious, but significant, little detail. The small dome on the left bears the engraving “Lepanto-1571.” The official biographer of Don Bosco records how he himself saw the original plan which the saint had made. The dome on the right bore a plaque, on which was inscribed an incomplete date, 19—. It would seem that the saint had some foreknowledge of a later-day victory of Our Lady, comparable in importance to that of Lepanto. Be that as it may prudence, or humility, eventually prevailed and the saint was content with substituting for the original plaque the laurel wreath that adorns the dome today.

This eloquent spokesman- with temerity, we might almost call him “showman”—of Our Lady was so effective in his fund-raising campaign for the Basilica that it was paid for on time to the last lira, although the contractor, as we have seen, was at his wit’s end at times.

To the casual reader there might seem to be a touch of simony in some of this jovial saint’s dealings. With a mischievous twinkle in his eye Don Bosco stood beside the sick-bed of more than one well-to-do Catholic in Turin, asking them how much they would contribute towards Our Lady’s church if she were to cure them. And yet behind the apparently light veneer there was a solid wall of faith and devotion, and the sick were the first to recognize it. Often enough they did regain their health- and the saint would gain his donation.

It was not all miracles, however. Far from it. Many a harassed parish priest of today will find consolation knowing that Don Bosco lost whole nights organizing fetes and lotteries, and in sending out circular letters for an appeal., The day of the Basilica’s consecration, June 9th, 1868, saw Don Bosco’s cup full to the top and flowing over. No effort had been spared, and the festivities were graced by the presence of the highest church and state dignitaries. A choir of 500 voices, set at different parts of the Basilica- one section was in the cupola- gave an exquisite rendition of the unison and polyphonic Marian motets composed especially for the occasion by the Salesian musician, Cardinal John Cagliero. There were many full hearts in the packed Basilica that morning, but none fuller than that of the greying priest who knelt, head in hands, at the back of the Sanctuary. He was thinking of a bewildered little shepherd boy and the Lady who had been given him as a guide in his dream many years before.

In this Marian city and centre began the Archconfraternity of Mary, Help of Christians, founded by St. John Bosco in 1869 and enriched by Pope Pius IX with many indulgences. No Australian pilgrim should feel that his tour of Catholic Europe is complete without kneeling in prayer at the shrine in Turin- a shrine that is closely bound to our country’s Patroness.

THE CELEBRATION OF THE FEAST DAY

The first country in the world to celebrate the Feast of Mary, Help of Christians, on a nation-wide scale was Australia, and that a bare forty years after the institution of the feast of PopePius VII in 1815. An Australian “Ordo,” or liturgical calendar, now preserved in Sydney, records as early as 1852 that the Church in Australia kept May 24th as a double of the first class in honour of its principal Patroness.

The story of Pius VII”s deliverance from Napoleon’s hands has already been told, and with it the institution of the feast on Mary 24th, 1815. Although the feast was intended to be purely local in its character, proper to the diocese of Rome, many dioceses of the Catholic world gradually came to recognize the universality of the title and, following Australia’s lead, to claim a share in the celebration of this feast of Mary.

There is an impressive list of reasons counselling the extension of this feast to the Universal Church, although, up to the present, this has not taken place. The distinctive quality and the timeliness of the title “Help of Christians” are apparent to all Catholics today, while the fact that May 24th is a free day in the universal calendar, and that until recently there was no feast of Our Blessed Mother in May, are extra arguments for its extension to the whole Catholic world. (The Feast of the Queenship of Mary on May 31st was recently instituted, but this title in no way derogates from the title, Help of Christians. All Mary’s titles are complementary.)

The hierarchies of Australia, South America, and the U.S.A. have lent their support to the extension of the feast by submitting, in recent years, formal petitions to the Holy See. May it please Divine Providence to reserve the extension of the feast to the great Marian Pontiff, Pope Pius XII. In his very first Encyclical, “Summi Pontificatus,” he invoked Mary, Help of Christians, with particular devotion. Now, once again, at this critical hour of Church History, the title is pregnant with meaning. It shows us Mary as the strong arm of the Church with the Godgiven mission of safeguarding Christ’s Vicar on earth.

THE LITURGY OF THE FEAST

There is a militant note ringing through the Mass and Divine Office of May 24th. The social character of Mary’s help stands out defiantly, for example, in the Secret prayer of the Mass: “For the triumph of the Christian religion, we offer up to Thee, O Lord, the sacrifice of propitiation, and may the Virgin, our helper, by whom the victory was won, obtain that it may avail unto our salvation.”

Nevertheless, if Mary is the Help of the Church and of the Christian people, considered collectively under its head the Pope, she is also the Help of every Christian considered individually. The Church does not want us to forget this. Thus she passes directly from the thought of social mediation to that of individual help. “ . . . O God, who has set the Blessed Virgin Mary as a help of Christendom. . . . .grant that we may triumph over the enemy at the hour of our death.”

The crowning gem of the liturgy of May 24this the proper hymn for Matins, the “Saepe Dum Christi.” It sings of Mary suddenly appearing out of the blue to save the Church in a crisis, of the churches throughout the world hung with tokens of Mary’s victories. It calls upon the virile youth of the Church to praise the strong Queen of Heaven who has brought back the Pontiff to the See of Peter after five years of exile. In a final, magnificent plea Mary is asked to lead the Supreme Pastor and his flock to the ever-green fields of Heaven. For Australians, in particular, the Feast of our Patroness ought to be a prelude to the eternal feast that we hope to celebrate one day at Mary’s feet.

THE BLESSING OF MARY

The blessing given a person in the name of Mary, Help of Christians, is unique. No other blessing like it can be found in the Roman Ritual. All other Marian blessings are bestowed on objects such as scapulars, rosaries, medals, cords, etc. To bless a person liturgically in Mary’s name the priest has only the formula in honour of Mary, Help of Christians.

It was composed by Saint John Bosco and approved by the Sacred Congregation of Rites on 18th May, 1878. When Pope Leo XIII, in fact, was presented with a sick relative to bless, he referred him to Don Bosco in Turin to receive the newly approved blessing of Our Lady, Help of Christians. And so it happened as the Pope had intimated: after the blessing of the Saint, the child walked and spoke distinctly, although he had been at death’s door but a few moments before.

This blessing contains a threefold invocation to the Help of Christians. After an opening “Hail Mary,” the priest recites one of the oldest Marian prayers in the ay Church: “We fly to thy patronage, O Holy Mother of God; despise not our petitions in our necessities, but deliver us always from all dangers, O glorious and blessed Virgin.” In the third place comes the invocation: “Mary, Help of Christians, pray for us,” followed by a prayer. Finally the person is sprinkled with holy water, and the priest gives the Blessing in Mary’s name. What a consolation in the moment of sickness to remember that the Church has given her official approbation to this blessing of the sick in the name of our country’s Patroness!

DON BOSCO’S DREAM

In one of his remarkable dream visions that Pope Pius IX commanded to be put in writing, Don Bosco was given a wonderful insight into Mary’s help towards the Church. The dream took place in 1862, and subsequent history has lent it an almost apocalyptic interest.

On May 25th, 1862, Don Bosco found himself the witness of a titanic sea battle. A perfectly rigged ship was beset on all sides by an enemy fleet, and began to give way before a violent bombardment. Surprisingly enough the ammunition of the enemy mainly took the shape of books and writings and the air was thick with the curses and blasphemies of their crews. Suddenly the captain of the harassed ship fell mortally wounded, to the profane delight of his ungodly adversaries.

Immediately a new captain filled the vacant post, and, fighting valiantly, guided his stricken vessel to two very high columns that had suddenly risen up from the waves. With the ship anchored between these two columns the whole tide of the battle changed. The enemy ships began to labour under the ever rising sea, and many went down. Some went so far as to turn their guns on their own craft, and, in utter confusion, the remnant of their once formidable fleet turned tail and fled.

A great calm came upon the sea, and in that tranquil moment Don Bosco observed that it was the Sovereign Pontiff who was the commander of that all conquering ship, quite obviously the Catholic Church. He also noticed now, for the first time, that on the top of one column was a statue of the Immaculate Virgin, with the inscription “Help of Christians” at her feet. Over the other column, which was of much larger proportions, was an immense Communion Host, with the words: “Salvation of those who believe.”

The Catholic Church never claims our credence for a private vision or dream, such as that just narrated, but in the light of the world-wide Communion Crusade launched by St. Pius X some fifty years later, and in the light of the present apostolate towards Marian devotion, it is certainly, at the very least, a fascinating account in its opportuness today.

OUR OWN PICTURE

Australia may at last boast of its own picture of the national Patroness. Every member of the Australian hierarchy has recently received a magnificent painting of Mary, Help of Christians, enframed by the stars of the Southern Gross and surmounting the outline of Australia on a map of the world, while smaller prints have also been put into circulation.

In this inspiring and symbolic picture the features of Mary are identical with the features shown on the face of Don Bosco’s Madonna in Turin. The same serene, majestic countenance has been kept, while her left hand supports, mother like, an appealing Child Jesus. She is queenly, for, while crowned with a brilliant diadem, she holds in her right hand the royal sceptre, a mark of her universal queenship, and a token in particular of her help towards the land that lies like a vigil-lamp at her feet. There is a touch of brilliance and devotion in the setting of the Southern constellation around our Patroness like a crown of glory. A familiarity, or, for that matter, a passing acquaintance with the picture, will help our imagination fix an image of Mary when that peculiar “Christian constellation” comes out nightly over our homeland, giving a literal rendering to St. Bernard’s famous motto: “Respice stellam; voca Mariam”—“Look up at the star; call upon Mary.”

AUSTRALIA’S NEED OF MARY

We do not need to be aJeremias or a prophet of doom to be awake to our country’s peril today. The trouble is that we have overslept badly. Now we are shocked to find that communism is a far more menacing and sizeable thing in this country than the odd Yarra-Bank theory we once believed it to be. We have at long last realized that there is a Near East as well as a Far East, and that neither is so very far away. All is not well economically, and there is discontent in the political field. At times, a certain lawlessness in the industrial world makes us wonder whether Australia has lost all traditional sense of fair play and decency. But these blotches, after all, are only symptoms of a deeper and far more malignant malady. It infects our very homes and walks unrecognized by broad daylight in our city streets.

With his usual insight, Archbishop Mannix has both diagnosed the sickness and prescribed the remedy. If she wants to continue as a nation at all, Australia must first prove herself a Christian nation. Her national life and her Christian life will stand or fall together. In an upright, moral life, and in that alone, will our country find that inner well-being and outer security that she needs so badly. That is why His Grace has ordered special prayers to Mary, Help of Christians, for the welfare of Australia as a Christian nation. It would be a travesty of the word to designate as Christian a nation that countenances loose censorship on literature and films, wide-open divorce laws, and excessive interest on finance schemes. Such a nation has no need of an invader. It has sown within itself the seeds of its own destruction.

Irreligion and public immorality, however, have always been vulnerable targets for the powerful arms of Mary most holy. She calls today, as never before, for a crusade of Christian modesty and family Rosaries. She is looking for a great army of Don John’s of purity and Don John’s of prayer to win the battle for a Christian Australia.

MARY’S OWN COUNTRY

Australia is far too young to have her Loreto or Walsingham, and God has not seen fit to bless us yet with a Lourdes or

La Salette. Yet, even so, our land can boast of her national shrines—of some living monuments to Mary in her modest womanhood, in her clean living men, and in her upright youth. They have guarded well their precious heritage, handed down by political convicts who brought the Rosary to these shores in the pockets of their prison greys, or by gold-diggers who gave their precious earnings to be struck into gold medals of Mary Immaculate, at the Definition of the Dogma in 1854.

We have thumbed through Church history, and we have seen the name of Mary stamped on every victory. Perhaps we do not have to look so far afield or turn the pages of history so far back. “In retrospect, only a miracle saved Australia in those disorganized days of 1941–42. Too much emphasis has been placed on the Coral Sea Battle- heroic as it was—and not enough on the timely intervention of her whom the Holy Ghost has appointed as our country’s Patroness.

The night is dark over our Southland once again, and the sunset before the dark was a deep, foreboding red. And yet we have firm grounds for optimism. History, and Church history in particular, has a peculiar way of repeating itself. It may well be that Our Lady, Help of Christians, is keeping till the dawn her latest and greatest victory for this land that is called her own.

PRAYER TO MARY, HELP OF CHRISTIANS

O Mary, powerful Virgin, great and illustrious defender of the Church, Help of Christians, terrible as an army drawn up in battle, thou alone hast triumphed over all the heresies of the world. Thou extraordinary Help of Christians protect us from the enemy in our struggles and in our difficulties, and at the hour of death take us with thee to heaven.

Mary, Help of Christians, pray for us.

BLESSING OF MARY HELP OF CHRISTIANS

The Priest, vested in surplice and white stole, says:

V. Our help is in the name of the Lord.

R . Who made heaven and earth.

Hail Mary, etc.

We fly to thy patronage, O holy Mother of God; despise not our petitions in our necessities, but deliver us from all dangers, O ever glorious and blessed Virgin.

V. Mary Help of Christians.

R. Pray for us.

V. O Lord, hear my prayer.

R And let my cry come unto Thee.

V. The Lord be with you.

R. And with thy spirit.

Let us pray

Almighty and everlasting God, Who didst prepare, through the cooperation of the Holy Ghost, the body and soul of the glorious Virgin and Mother Mary, so that she would merit to become the worthy dwelling-place of Thy Son; grant that through the intercession of her whose commemoration we joyfully celebrate, we may be freed from present evils and from eternal death.

Through the same Christ our Lord.

Amen.

( The persons are sprinkled with holy water.)

May the blessing of Almighty God, + Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, descend upon thee (you) and remain for ever.

Amen.

(The Priest here gives the blessing.)

Devotions for the 24th of each Month.

NOVENA TO MARY, HELP OF CHRISTIANS

1. O Holy Mary, powerful help of Christians, I have recourse with faith to the throne of thy mercy. Hear the prayers of this poor sinner who implores thy succour to avoid sin, and the occasions of sin.

Hail Mary, etc. Glory be to the Father, etc.

Mary, Help of Christians, pray for us.

2. O Holy Mary, Mother of goodness and mercy, who hast oftentimes, with thy visible patronage, delivered Christians from the assaults and plunders of the Mohammedans; defend, I beseech thee, my soul from all assaults of the devil, the world, and the flesh, so that I may be victorious over the enemies of my soul.

Hail Mary, etc. Glory be to the Father, etc.

Mary, Help of Christians, pray for us.

3. Mary, most powerful Queen, who alone didst triumph over the many heresies which endeavoured to tear away a great many children from the bosom of our Holy Mother the Church, help me, I beseech thee, to keep firmly to my faith, and to keep my heart unsullied among so many snares and the poison of perverse doctrines.

Hail Mary, etc. Glory be to the Father, etc.

Mary, Help of Christians, pray for us.

4. O Mary, my sweetest Mother, who hast been the Queen of Martyrs on account of so many heroic acts of courage and fortitude exercised on earth, I beseech thee infuse into my heart the necessary strength with which to persevere as one of thy clients, that, treading under foot all human respect, I may be able to practise openly and fearlessly my religious duties, and to show myself, on every occasion, a devout child to thee.

Hail Mary, etc. Glory be to the Father, etc.

Mary, Help of Christians, pray for us.

5. Dear Mother Mary, who, in the triumph of Pope Pius VII, showed thy powerful patronage, take under they protection the whole Church, and especially her supreme Head on earth, the Holy Father. Defend him evermore from the assaults of so many of his enemies, deliver him from temporal sufferings, and ever assist him so that he may safely steer to the haven the barque of St. Peter, and triumph over the proud billows which strive to submerge it.

Hail Mary, etc. Glory be to the Father, etc.

Mary, Help of Christians, pray for us.

6. O Mary, Queen of Apostles, take under thy powerful protection the Bishops, Priests, and all the children of the Catholic Church; obtain for them the spirit of union, of perfect obedience to the Roman Pontiff, and of fervent zeal for the salvation of souls; especially I beg of thee to extend thy loving patronage to Missionaries, that they may be able to bring all races of the earth to the true Faith of Jesus Christ, so to make one fold under one Shepherd.

Hail Mary, etc. Glory be to the Father, etc.

Mary, Help of Christians, pray for us.

7. O Mary, gracious and bountiful Mother, who with thy efficacious intercession has saved Christian people from plagues and from other corporal scourges, help us and deliver us now from the pest of impiety and irreligion, which in many ways seeks to find an entrance into our souls to turn us away from the Church and the practices of religion. I beseech thee, watch over the good that they may persevere, strengthen the weak, and call to repentance poor sinners, that truth and the kingdom of Jesus Christ may triumph here on earth, so that thy glory and the number of the elect may be increased in Heaven.

Hail Mary, etc. Glory be to the Father, etc.

Mary, Help of Christians, pray for us.

8. O Mary, pillar of the Church and help of Christians, I ask of thee to keep me firm in my holy faith, and to preserve in me the liberty of the children of God. With the help of grace, I promise neither to soil nor to enfetter my soul with sin, nor take part in any society condemned by the Church. I promise obedience to the Sovereign Pontiff, and to the Bishops in communion with him, desiring to live and die in the bosom of the Catholic Faith, wherein only I can hope with certainty to attain eternal salvation.

Hail Mary, etc. Glory be to the Father, etc.

Mary, Help of Christians, pray for us.

9. O most benign Mother, who in every age didst wish to be the Helper of Christians, assist me with thy invincible aid in life, but particularly at the hour of my death, so that, after having loved and praised thee on earth, I may deserve, to come and sing thy mercies forever in Heaven.

Hail Mary, etc. Glory be to the Father, etc.

Mary, Help of Christians, pray for us.

Graciously permit me to praise thee, O sacred Virgin. Grant me strength against thine enemies.

Let Us Pray.

O Almighty and merciful God, Who, in the person of the Blessed Virgin Mary, hast miraculously given an everlasting protectress to defend Christian people, graciously grant that, fortified by such an aid, and striving onward in life, we may be victorious over the wicked one in the hour of death. Through Christ our Lord. Amen.

MARY, HELP OF CHRISTIANS, BRING SUCCOUR AND PEACE TO AUSTRALIA

Nihil Obstat:

W. M. COLLINS, Censor Dioc. Imprimatur

@ DANIEL MANNIX,

Archiepiscopus MeIbcurnensis.

Beatification And Canonisation

BY REV. J. R. MACMAHON, S. J

INDEX

INTRODUCTION

THE bells of St. Peter’s ring out triumphantly, announcing the utterance by the Vicar of Christ of the solemn words: “We decree and define that the Blessed. . . . is a Saint.” The Catholic world rejoices and reverently invokes the new saint.

Yet of the millions who rejoice, comparatively few, it may be fairly said, realise the labour that has been expended in the process which has led up to this triumphant conclusion. A process begun, perhaps, centuries before, and which has entailed not only time, but vast labour and considerable expense. A process that might never have succeeded but for a volume of prayer and mortification, elements of the greatest importance in every spiritual undertaking, whose moment cannot be estimated in terms of earthly values, or fully appreciated in this life.

Our object in writing is to enable our readers to realise, to some extent, what Canonisation involves (and, as a stage in the process, Beatification). To describe the process in all its details would require a lengthy treatise; it is not being attempted here. But enough will be set forth to give an idea of the holiness that is required for Canonisation, and of the rigid scrutiny which ensures, as far as human means allow, that no unworthy name is submitted to the Pope for admission to the Roll (or Canon) of the Saints-the Church’s Roll of Honour. We say, “as far as human means allow,” in order to distinguish the process leading up to Canonisation from the solemn act itself. For, when the Pope utters the solemn words defining the new saint, he is relying, not merely on human industry or prudence or wisdom, but on the special assistance of the Holy Ghost, and his definition is infallible.

The veneration and invocation of the Saints in Heaven is a notable feature of Catholic practice. But while the private veneration and invocation of those whom one seriously believes to be in heaven is lawful, public worship may be offered to those only who have been judged by the Church to be worthy of it. And this judgment takes the form either of Beatification or of Canonization.

Beatification permits the title “Blessed” to be given to a servant of God, and certain acts of veneration to be performed in his honour, limited to definite places or groups of people, for example, religious Orders. It does not involve the exercise of the infallible teaching power of the Pope.

Canonization is a final, and, as already said, infallible, sentence by which the Pope defines the Blessed to be a Saint and orders the veneration of the Saint throughout the Universal Church.

HISTORY OF BEATIFICATION AND CANONISATION

BEATIFICATION and Canonisation, in their present form, are the result of a long and complicated development of discipline.

In the early days of the Church, martyrs were venerated publicly, in the places where they had given their lives for the Faith. But for this local public veneration to be lawful, the approval of the Bishop was required and was given only after a careful investigation of the facts. Here we have the first trace of Beatification.

Then the various local churches exchanged with each other the names of their recognised martyrs and information concerning their heroic deaths, so that in course of time the veneration of some was, with the consent of the Pope, extended to the entire Church. This final stage corresponded to what is now called Canonisation.

Later on, possibly in the 4th century, public veneration was permitted to be given to confessors-those, namely, who had exercised heroic virtues, but had not been called upon to face a violent death for the Faith. In their case, also, recognition by ecclesiastical authority was necessary.

With the increase of means of communication with Rome, the centre of unity, the intervention of the Pope-a thing desirable in beatifications for the sake, at least, of greater solemnity-became more frequent; in canonisations the papal authority was not merely desirable, but essential. The first example of a formal and solemn canonisation seems to be that of the year 993, when Pope John XV canonised St. Uldaric, Bishop of Augsburg.

In 1170 Beatification was reserved to the Holy See by Pope Alexander III, who decreed that it was not lawful to venerate anyone as a saint without the authority of the Roman Church. Although he used the word “Saint,” it is clear that he was referring to beatification; the words “Saint” and “Blessed” were not strictly distinguished until the middle of the 17th century, and as for the authority to canonise, it was never granted to diocesan Bishops, nor could it be, so there was no question of reserving it.

Whatever obscurity may have remained after the decree of 1170 was removed in 1634 by Pope Urban VIII, who reserved to the Holy See the decision of all questions concerning the public veneration of the Servants of God. And this has been the law ever since

Pope Urban, moreover, forbade the giving of such veneration to any persons before the Holy Sec should have canonised them or declared them Blessed; he ordered that any such veneration should cease, making, however, an exception in favour of certain classes, namely, those who had been venerated either (a) with the common consent of the Church, or (b) with papal permission, or (c) in the writings of the Fathers or of the Saints, or (d) for a very long time-one hundred years prior to- 1634. These are known as “excepted cases,” and the Pope did not propose to interfere with them. Only in the event of there being question of proceeding to their canonisation is positive papal approval required. This positive approval or confirmation of their cult is called equipollent (that is, equivalent) beatification. An example of the confirmation by the Pope of an immemorial cult is to be found in the case of the Blessed Stilla of Abenberg, who died about the year 1140, and whose equipollent beatification was decreed in 1927.

Pope Urban VIII. also defined the procedure to be followed in investigating the worthiness of those whose beatification or canonisation was sought.

We have said that the first example of a solemn and formal canonisation is to be found in the year 993. Of a solemn and formal beatification in St. Peter’s the first instance is that of St. Francis de Sales, in 1662. Since the year 1741 at least, when Benedict XIV confirmed the privilege, solemn canonisations and beatifications have been reserved to St. Peter’s, Rome-or, as it is officially styled, the Vatican Basilica. But in earlier times, there was no such limitation. St. Thomas a Becket, for example, was canonised by Pope Alexander III in the Cathedral of Segni (Province of Rome) in the year 1172.

In the year 1587, Pope Sixtus V established the Sacred Congregation of Rites and gave it charge of causes of beatification and canonisation, along with other duties. The Congregation is still in existence. Its activity may be estimated from the fact that in the course of the 25 years 1926–1950 there were 38 Canonisation ceremonies (49 Canonised) and 54 ceremonies of formal Beatification (420 Beatified, including 15 who were subsequently Canonised within the period mentioned and who are, therefore, included in the figure 49). In addition to these, there were a number of equivalent beatifications, which do not attract so much public notice, but which involve much inquiry and toil.

THE PROCESS OF BEATIFICATION

THE procedure followed in investigating the worthiness of those whose beatification is sought has remained substantially unchanged from the time of Urban VIII (1634) down to the present day.

There are three stages in the process of formal beatification:-(a) the process instituted by the local Bishop; (b) the introduction of the trial at the Sacred Congregation of Rites; (c) the Apostolic trial.

The first step is taken by the Petitioner-that is, the person or group of persons who wish to promote the cause of Beatification of the Servant of God and are prepared to undertake the enterprise and to meet the necessary expenses. Ordinarily the petitioner is represented at the ecclesiastical tribunal by an agent or procurator, who is called the Postulator, and must be a priest resident in Rome.

To obtain from the Holy See the introduction of a cause of beatification, certain facts must first be solidly proved, namely, the purity of doctrine of the Servant of God, as shown in his writings (if any); the fame of his sanctity, virtues, and miracles, or martyrdom; the absence of any decisive impediment; the absence of any public worship in his honour.

Hence the Postulator (or a vice-postulator representing him) asks the diocesan Bishop to call for all the writings of the Servant of God, and to set up an inquiry into his fame for sanctity, etc., and into the absence of any public worship. The Bishop competent to act is he in whose diocese the person died or miracles have occurred.

The Bishop, accordingly, if he approves of the request, calls upon all those who possess any writings of the Servant of God to deliver them up (or authenticated copies). When collected, these are sent to Rome for examination.

The Bishop also holds an inquiry into the fame for sanctity, martyrdom, miracles. But if thirty years have passed since the death of the Servant of- God, further progress is barred, unless it is proved that there has been no fraud or culpable neglect in the delay. This would be the case, for instance, if the investigation were to be deliberately postponed until the death of persons who might be able to give unfavourable evidence.

At the inquiry ten witnesses, at least, must testify to the existence of a popular belief in the sanctity of the Servant of God, a belief not artificially stimulated, continuous, growing, and actually held by the greater part of the people.

A written record is kept of the investigation; and a certified copy is sent to Rome, while the original is kept, closed and sealed, among the Bishop’s records-never to be opened without leave of the Holy See. It will be noted that the Bishop—or the judges appointed by him-does not pronounce any judgment as to the fame for sanctity; he merely carries out investigation and submits the results to the Roman Congregation.

There remains the question of the absence of public worship. Four witnesses, at least, must testify to this. Also the tribunal visits the grave of the Servant of God, the room in which he lived or died, and any other places in which signs of such worship might be expected to be. Such signs would be the erection of a statue at the grave, a representation of the person with rays of light or a halo, lighted candles, etc. It is the duty of the tribunal to pronounce judgment as to whether or not public worship has been given. A full report is sent to Rome.

The first stage of the process is now complete; the Bishop has done his part, and the Congregation of Rites takes up the case.

Before proceeding further, it may be well to explain the position of an official who plays a very considerable part in the process, and is-as far as his popular nickname goes, at least-the best known, namely, the “Devil’s Advocate,” or, as he is properly styled, the Promotor Fidei (Promoter of the Faith). His duty is to detect any defects in the procedure, or flaws, in the proofs, to raise difficulties and doubts, to formulate questions to be put to the witnesses at the trial.

THE EXAMINATIONS

WHEN the results of the Bishop’s investigation arrive in Rome, the Sacred Congregation of Rites has the writings of the Servant of God examined by two theologians. The object of this examination is twofold : to discover, firstly, if the writings contain anything contrary to faith or morals, and, secondly, whether they furnish any indication of the character, the virtues or the defects of the writer. If the examination brings to light anything out of harmony with faith, or objectionable, the Pope decides whether the cause may be allowed to proceed. A favourable decision by the Pope does not involve an approval of the writings, but it declares that the doctrine they contain, erroneous though it be and even heretical, is not a bar in the particular case to the discussion of the writer’s merits as to Beatification, for he may have erred innocently, or retracted his.error.

The report of the Bishop’s investigation into the fame of the Servant of God for holiness or martyrdom is examined: the Promoter of the Faith raises difficulties and objections against the introduction of the cause, and these must be answered by the advocate defending it. The Cardinals of the Congregation of Rites, having before them the Bishop’s report, the difficulties raised by the Promoter of the Faith, and the answers of the advocate, consider whether the case is strong enough for them to recommend the Pope to sign the document giving them authority to proceed with the cause. If they come to a favourable decision, and the Pope acts on their recommendation, the cause is said to be “introduced.”

Up to the year 1913, a Servant of God, whose cause had . been “introduced,” was given the title “Venerable.” Since then this title may not be given until a further stage has been reached, namely, the publication of the decree declaring the heroicity of his virtues. The title “Servant of God” is given to those who have died with the fame of sanctity.

There are many factors which may delay or hasten the introduction of a cause, so that the interval between the death of a Servant of God and the introduction of the cause varies considerably in practice. For instance, Blessed Claude de la Colombiere died in 1682; the decree authorising the introduction of his cause was not signed until 1880-an interval of nearly 200 years. He was beatified in 1929. As an instance of progress rare in its rapidity there is the case of St. Teresa of Lisieux. She died in 1897; her cause was introduced in 1914; she was beatified in 1923 and canonised in 1925.

After the introduction of the cause, the Cardinals review the sentence already passed by the local Bishop as to the absence of public worship. If they disagree, with that sentence, and judge that public worship is being paid, the process can advance no further until every trace of it has been removed, and a space of time has elapsed.

When the Congregation has published its decision that the law prohibiting public worship has been adequately observed, it next appoints judges, five in number, to make an investigation, with authority from the Holy See. This is the beginning of the “Apostolic Process.” The purpose of this investigation. is to verify the general reputation of sanctity or martyrdom, and also to collect evidence concerning the sanctity itself, the virtues, the miracles, or the martyrdom. This process is carried out in the place where the witnesses live. It must be begun within three months and completed within two years.

In the course of the investigation of the virtues in detail, the judges visit the tomb of the Servant of God, which is opened for the purpose of examining the remains, and reporting on their condition. They are assisted by medical experts, who provide a written report, on oath, as to the state of the remains. If the body is still incorrupt, or exhales a sweet perfume, these experts say whether in their opinion the intact state of the body, or the perfume, can be naturally explained or not, giving their reasons.

THE VIRTUES OF THE SERVANT OF GOD

WHEN the five judges, appointed by the Holy See, have completed the first part of the Apostolic Process, they send to Rome a full report of their investigation; and the advocate of the cause must satisfy five Cardinals of the Congregation of Rites that the rules regulating the enquiry have been duly observed.

The next step in the process-the discussion by the Congregation of the virtues of the Servant of God-may not be taken until fifty years have elapsed since his death. (Exceptions to this rule are sometimes made. For instance, the discussion of the virtues of St. Teresa of Lisieux was begun in 1920—only twenty-three years after her death). This discussion occupies three meetings of the Congregation-the ante-preparatory, the preparatory, and the general-which are held for the purpose of reviewing all the evidence that has been collected, the arguments of the advocate of the cause, the objections and difficulties raised by the Promoter of the Faith, and the replies to them, in order to answer the solemn and vital question: “Is there clear proof in this case of the theological virtues of Faith, Hope, and Charity towards God and the neighbour, and of the cardinal virtues of Prudence, Justice, Temperance and Fortitude, and of those connected with them, in the heroic degree?”

At the final-meeting-the general-the Holy Father presides and the decisive answer to the question rests with him. If his decision is favourable, a decree is published, declaring that the Servant of God exercised the virtues in a heroic degree. After the publication of this decree, the title of “Venerable” may be given to the Servant of God, but this does not mean that public worship is permitted.

The eminent virtue required as a distinguishing mark of sanctity is technically known as heroic. Virtue may be described as “a habit of right conduct”; Christian virtue, to merit the qualification “heroic,” must be such as to “enable its owner to perform virtuous actions with uncommon promptitude, ease, and pleasure, from supernatural motives and without human reasoning, with self-abnegation and full control over his natural inclinations.” Or, as it has been described, it is a habit of performing those good acts which exceed the mode of working followed by estimable men who live in grace and act worthily. Heroicity consists in the excellence of the work, arising from its difficult nature and from the circumstances in which it is done. This heroicity must appear as a constant feature in the life of the Servant of God; a few heroic actions-apart from martyrdom-do not suffice to establish the manifold excellence of life which constitutes sanctity. On the other hand, numerous heroic acts of each and every virtue are not required. There must be many heroic acts of Faith, Hope, and especially Charity, but heroic acts of the other virtues are required only in so far as the Servant of God had opportunities, according to his state and condition, of exercising them. While there is no rigid rule as to the length of time during which the Servant of God must have persevered in the practice of eminent virtue, the period must be sufficient to justify the practice being described as permanent and habitual.

It may be asked : how far do imperfections and venial sins conflict with heroic virtue? If the venial sins are many, and quite deliberate, they indicate a state of soul which cannot be reconciled with the fervour of charity proper to heroic virtue. But if they are not fully deliberate, and arise rather from frailty than from malice, if they are followed by prompt and true sorrow and due care is taken to correct them, they do not exclude the possibility of the existence of heroic virtue. No doubt, the Promoter of the Faith (“the devil’s advocate”) will draw attention to them, and they may render more difficult the proof of heroic virtue, but they do not operate as an absolute bar to the success of the cause.

HEROIC VIRTUE

IN its examination of the evidence collected regarding the exercise of heroic virtue, the Congregation of Rites is by no means satisfied with general affirmations-it insists on definite and detailed testimony.

In particular, inquiry is made into the practice of prayer, both vocal and mental-as being the first means of attaining to sanctity and a sign of true virtue.

As regards the exercise of the virtue of Faith, its ordinary extent is measured by the external profession of the truths to which one internally adheres, by the observance of the commandments, by the practice of prayer, by submission and obedience to God, to the Catholic Church and its visible head on earth-the Pope-in believing and doing all things required for eternal salvation, by the propagation of the Faith, by the fear and adoration of God and the worship paid to His saints, by the horror of sin, the doing of penance, by patience in trials, by joy in doing good works, by humility and selfeffacement. The heroic degree of Faith-as of the other virtues is measured by the multitude of acts, the facility, promptness and delight with which they are performed, and the overcoming of obstacles, so as to surpass the ordinary way of acting of upright men.

The inquiry into the virtue of Hope is not confined to asking whether the Servant of God hoped firmly for eternal salvation; it includes questions as to the confidence with which he practised good works, his resignation in adversity, his patience under persecution, his joy at the near approach of death.

Regarding the ‘virtue of Charity, it is asked whether the Servant of God constantly thought of Him, and often spoke of Him; whether he continually meditated on the Divine goodness, on the mysteries of religion, and in particular on the Passion of Our Lord; whether he strove to avoid not only sins, but imperfections; whether he showed zeal for God’s honour, rejoiced to hear Him spoken of, and welcomed suffering for the sake of God? It is asked also whether he showed charity to his neighbour by giving material aid and personal service, by forgiving injuries, and by a sincere and practical desire for the salvation of souls.

The cardinal virtues (Prudence, Justice, Temperance, and Fortitude) and those connected with them-especially humility-are similarly examined. The sufferings of the Servant of God are particularly inquired into, and the spirit with which he endured them. Likewise the manner in which he performed the duties proper to his state of life.

Finally, the circumstances of the death are specially considered, and the dispositions shown at that solemn hour.

An element often conspicuous in the lives of the Saints, namely, extraordinary graces such as .ecstasies, visions and revelations, is far from being overlooked at the inquiry. The evidence concerning such phenomena is most critically examined; for the possibility of hallucination and of diabolical deception is a very real one in this matter. The absence of natural and diabolical agency must be clearly established before these phenomena are admitted as supernatural. And while it is true that the Church has constantly regarded true ecstasy as something sacred and worthy of all respect, she does not admit it and similar favours, by themselves, as proofs of sanctity, nor does she require them as indispensable. It is rather the sanctity, already proved by the exercise of heroic virtue, that verifies the divine character of these manifestations. When sanctity has been demonstrated, they may be accepted as confirmatory indications of God’s friendship.

Infused contemplation, a favour commonly granted to the Saints, is not required as an essential in the process. Pope Benedict XIV states: “ . . . many perfect men are canonized by the Church, without the least mention having been made, in their process, of infused contemplation. It is sufficient to have proved the heroism of their virtues and miracles obtained through their intercession.”

MIRACLES

WHILE it is true that final perseverance-death in the state of grace-is all that is necessary to gain the “Crown of Life” in the Church triumphant in Heaven, nevertheless for the authorisation, in the Church militant on earth, of public veneration of the dead, their exercise of heroic virtue must be proved, and that proof must be confirmed by miracles, worked through their intercession, after death.

The primary and general purpose of miracles is the glory of God; they may also serve to prove the truth of a doctrine or the holiness of an individual. Their efficacy as proofs is derived from the fact that true miracles are effects that cannot have been produced by any natural agency, which are beyond the order of the whole of created nature, and therefore involve a special intervention of Divine Power. This special intervention is never exercised when its effect would be to lead men into inevitable error, for that would be contrary to God’s goodness: a true miracle, therefore, worked under such conditions as to demonstrate the sanctity of a person, is a divine testimony.

For Beatification, the number of miracles required by the Church depends upon the quality of the evidence at the Informatory and Apostolic processes. If the witnesses as to virtues at each process were eyewitnesses, two miracles suffice; if there were eyewitnesses at the Informatory process only, three miracles are required; if there was no evidence from eyewitnesses, four miracles are usually necessary.

The Congregation of Rites does not proceed to the discussion of miracles until after the decree of approval of the virtues. For miracles (and the same is true of other extraordinary favours, visions, etc.) do not constitute sanctity, and are ignored if heroic virtue has not been solidly proved. They avail as proofs of sanctity when worked through the intercession of the Servant of God, after his death. The fact that such intercession has been made is chiefly established from the fact that he has been invoked by the faithful.

The first step in the discussion of the miracles is an examination of the evidence by two experts appointed by the Congregation. If these two agree in rejecting a miracle, it is dropped. As miracles most often take the form of a cure of some disease, the experts in such cases must be eminent in either medicine or surgery, and, if possible, specialists. Their report, with reasons for their conclusions, concerns two questions : 1. If there is question of a cure, is the person truly cured? 2. Can the fact be explained by natural means?

If the report is satisfactory, three meetings of the Congregation are held, similar to those at which the heroicity of the virtues was discussed, the question now being: Is there clear proof in this case of miracles? And what are they? The final decision rests with the Pope, and if it is favourable, a decree is issued to that effect.

The obtaining of a favourable decision is far from easy; and those non-Catholics who scoff at the credulity of the Church in accepting certain effects as miracles would be surprised if they realised the extensive evidence that is insisted upon and the rigid and scientific criticism to which it is submitted before being admitted as conclusive.

Before a cure is accepted as miraculous, proof is required (1) that the malady was a serious one; (2) that the cure was not due to natural remedies-if such were used; (3) that it was instantaneous or at least sudden; (4) that it was permanent.

The word instantaneous is to be taken, not as invariably meaning something done in a moment of time, but as indicating an effect produced with a rapidity clearly beyond the forces of nature.

While functional diseases can be miraculously cured, the Congregation of Rites, in view of the obscurity of the cause of such cures and the consequent difficulty of proving its miraculous character, does not accept such cures and insists on the organic nature of the disease being established before admitting a cure as miraculous.

MARTYRS

THE word “martyr,” originally meaning a witness, was applied in the earliest days of the Church to those who gave testimony regarding the life, the sufferings and the resurrection of Our Lord. At an early stage in the life of the Church the title “martyr” came to be applied exclusively to those who had died for the Faith. Nowadays, unfortunately, it is often used, or rather abused, in a way that weakens and degrades it. The strict meaning of martyrdom, according to the technical usage of centuries, is: “The undergoing of death, or sufferings naturally causing death, inflicted out of hatred for the faith, or on account of the exercise of Christian virtue, and endured willingly.”

Martyrdom is regarded by the Church as an excellent proof of sanctity-so excellent that the detailed examination of the exercise of heroic virtues is not required, nor are miracles as strictly insisted upon as in the case of non-martyrs; the question upon which the process depends is : “Is there clear proof of martyrdom and of its cause and of signs and miracles in the present case and for the present purpose?”

In the discussion of martyrdom, the reason of the persecution is a most important element, for, as St, Augustine put it, it is not the death, but the cause, that makes true martyrs. ‘The cause must be (i) on the part of the victim, either the profession of the Faith of Christ, or the doing of some good action or the avoiding of some sin, for His sake; (2) on the part of the persecutor, hatred for the Faith, or of some good work prescribed by the Faith. St. Joan of Arc, accordingly, ranks, not among the Martyrs, but among the Virgins. Sometimes a tyrant alleges political reasons for inflicting death; but the Church seeks the real reason, which may well be hatred for the Faith, more or less concealed under a political mask. The martyrs under Nero were accused of setting Rome on fire, but the real reason for their deaths was their Faith. And history has repeated itself since then-nearer home. Pope Benedict XIV quotes as an example Mary, Queen of Scots, whom he regarded as having truly died for the Faith, and recognition of whom as a martyr he considered quite within the bounds of possibility. It is sometimes difficult to disentangle the motives-political and religious-for which death has been inflicted on various victims; and the Church takes the greatest care to make sure that death for merely political activities is not mistaken for death for the Faith. Lack of evidence as to this is probably the reason for the slow progress in many cases.

The law requiring miracles applies to martyrs, just as it applies to others, but it is not so rigidly insisted upon, for, in the case of evident martyrdom, the Congregation of Rites, according to the present discipline, has authority to dispense with proof of miracles and to accept signs in their place, or, in the absence of even signs, it may petition the Pope to permit the process to advance without them. By signs are meant sensible effects, not outside the order of nature, which, either in themselves or in their circumstances, serve, by a special providence, to demonstrate the sanctity of a Servant of God; for example, immunity from the attacks of ferocious beasts, radiance surrounding the body, a crown, of light over the head. Signs need not depend upon the intercession of the martyr, need not be worked after death, and may be proved by documentary evidence.

Three meetings of the Congregation of Rites are held for the purpose of discussing the question whether martyrdom, its cause, etc., have been satisfactorily proved. The Holy Father presides over the third meeting, and the final decision rests with him. If he is satisfied with the proofs, he orders the publication of a decree to that effect. Thereafter the martyr may be styled “Venerable,” but may not yet be given public worship.

The next-and final-stage leading up to Beatification, whether of a martyr or not, is the discussion of the question whether steps may safely be taken to proceed to Beatification.

BEATIFICATION

AN . . . TUTO procedi possit . . . ?” Is it SAFE to proceed to the Beatification of the Servant of God? The discussion and decision of this question constitutes the second-last step of the long and difficult process. Virtues and miracles have been proved. The Pope now hears the opinions of the Cardinals and the Consultors of the Congregation of Rites as to the safety of proceeding to the final step, but defers his decision. If he decides favourably, a decree to that effect is published. It is read in the presence of the Pope, the officials of the Congregation and a large assembly. An address of devotion and gratitude is then read to the Holy Father, who makes an appropriate reply. .

It was the privilege of the writer to be among those present on a memorable occasion of this kind-the reading of the Decree de Tuto in the Cause of B. Claude de la Colombiere, on the 7th of June, 1929, the morning on which the Lateran Treaty and Concordat had just been ratified. The applause which greeted the Holy Father on his entry into the Hall was fervidly enthusiastic.

The Vatican Basilica (St. Peter’s, Rome) is the scene of the final step-the actual Beatification. The whole apse is richly adorned with hangings and myriads of clusters of electric lights. Over the altar, above the Chair of St. Peter, is hung a large painting of the glorification of the new Blessed. It is covered with a veil. On the altar, likewise covered, are some of his relics. From the pillars are suspended pictures representing the miracles accepted for the Beatification. In the portico other pictures portray appropriate scenes from his life. The bronze statue of St. Peter is clothed in pontifical robes.

The Pope. does not personally take part in the ceremony. At ten o’clock on the morning of the day appointed the Cardinals of the Congregation of Rites tales their places before the altar of the Chair, on the Gospel side; on the Epistle side are the Cardinal Archpriest of the Basilica and the Chapter. The ceremony opens with a petition from the Postulator of the Cause to the Cardinal Prefect of the Congregation to order the publication of the Apostolic Brief of Beatification; the request is granted and the Postulator asks the Cardinal Arch-priest of St. Peter’s for permission to publish the Brief in the Basilica. This obtained, the Brief is read aloud. It usually contains a eulogy of the new Blessed, and a short review of his life. It terminates with the solemn authorization of the application to him of the title Beatus (Blessed), and of the public veneration of his relics; permission to add to his images rays of light; the approval of an Office to be said yearly on his feast-day, and a Mass likewise in his honour. The Office and the Mass are approved only for the places and persons specially connected with him.

As soon as the Brief has been read, the bells of the Basilica peal forth the glad news, the veils covering the large picture and the relics are removed, and the vast assembly stands for the singing of the Te Deum. The new Blessed is invoked and his prayer is said. The picture and the relics are, incensed and the solemn Mass is said.

Thousands of pictures and booklets are distributed among those present. The ceremony lasts over two hours.

In the afternoon the Pope enters St. Peter’s. He is greeted on his entry by the music of the silver trumpets, and is borne on the sedia gestatoria in solemn procession up the nave. On his arrival at the altar, the Most Blessed Sacrament is exposed and the prayer of the Beatus is said. Benediction of the. Most Blessed Sacrament is then given. The Postulator of the Cause presents the Pope with a relic of the new Beatus in a precious reliquary, a picture on silk with fringes of gold, a richly bound copy of the life, and a traditional bouquet of artificial flowers.

This afternoon ceremony is short-lasting about half an hour.

A solemn triduum is afterwards celebrated in Rome, in the national church of the Blessed or in the church of his Order if he was a religious; on each of the three days a Pontifical Mass is sung and a panegyric preached.

CANONISATION

As a rule, the Pope does not proceed to the canonisation of a Blessed until two miracles are proved to have been worked through his intercession after his formal beatification. In cases in which longstanding cult has been positively approved_ by the Pope (equipollent beatification), three miracles are required. The proof and discussion of the miracles follow the same course as in the case of beatification. But miracles are not always insisted upon. Finally, the Pope decrees that it is safe to proceed to the solemn canonisation:

The vast Basilica is magnificently decorated in a manner similar to that described in the section on Beatification, but on a grander scale. At about 8 o’clock in the morning on the day appointed, the Pope enters St. Peter’s, borne on the sedia gestatoria, and preceded by a procession which to the on-lookers seems endless. When all have taken their places, the Cardinal-Procurator of the Canonisation and a consistorial advocate advance to the Papal throne, and. the advocate addresses the Holy Father : “Most Holy Father, the most reverend Cardinal (naming him) here present,. earnestly begs that the venerable Beatus (naming him) be placed by Your Holiness on the roll of the Saints of Our Lord Jesus Christ, and be pronounced a Saint by all the faithful.” A prelate re-plies for the Pope that the Holy Father, before making a pronouncement on so important a matter, exhorts those present to ask for light from on high. The Litany of the Saints is sung, and the advocate repeats his petition, changing the word “earnestly” into “more earnestly.” An answer similar to the first is given, and the Pope kneels in prayer while the Miserere is chanted. The Pope then intones the Veni Creator Spiritus, at the end of which he recites the prayer to the Holy Ghost. The advocate once more repeats his petition, saying this time “most earnestly.” The prelate replies that the Holy Father, convinced that the canonisation is a thing agreeable to God, has decided to pronounce the final sentence. The assembly stands. and the Pope, seated on his throne, as Teacher and Head of the Universal Church, utters the solemn words.: “For the honour of the Holy and Undivided Trinity, for the exaltation of the Catholic Faith, and the increase of the Christian Religion, by the authority of Our Lord Jesus Christ, of the Blessed Apostles Peter and Paul, and of Ourselves, after mature deliberation and having frequently implored the divine assistance, and by the advice of Our Venerable Brethren, the Cardinals of the Holy Roman Church, and of the Patriarchs, Archbishops and Bishops in this City, We decree and define the Blessed . . . to be a Saint, and We inscribe him on the roll of the Saints, and ordain that his memory be celebrated by the Universal Church, as among the Saints, each year on his feast-day, with pious devotion. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.”

The Pope then intones the Te Deum, the trumpets in the dome resound, and the bells of the Basilica and of all the churches in Rome ring out the glad news of the Canonisation. At the conclusion of the Te Deum, the intercession of the new Saint is solemnly invoked, and the canonisation ceremony terminates with the Papal Blessing.

Solemn Papal Mass immediately follows. At the Offertory of this Mass a special ceremony takes place, consisting in the offering to the Pope of candles, bread, wine, water, two turtle doves, two pigeons, and several small birds. The offering is repeated for each Saint-or group of Saints-if several have been canonised on the same day. The candles, five in number, are beautifully painted.

In this offering we find a survival of a custom reaching back to the earliest days of the Church. It was then usual to present, not only the bread and wine required for the Sacrifice, but also other objects of value, to contribute towards the support of the ministers.

The objects offered at the Solemn Papal Mass following a Canonisation have each a special meaning. The wax candles are explained by spiritual writers as typifying the head and members of the Church; the head, because (i) the flame of the candle represents the Divinity of Our Lord, Who is a consuming fire, and (2) the wax, produced in its purity by the bees, and being one of the most delicate of substances, represents the Body of Christ, and (3) the wick, concealed within the wax, represents the spotless Soul of Christ within His Sacred Body : and the members, because the canonised Saints, by their imitation of the virtues of Christ, have been, in the words of the Gospel, a burning and a shining light.

The bread indicates that the saints have loved Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament, their true nourishment, the “living Bread that came down from heaven.” Some writers look upon the bread as representing the word of God, for the saints nourished their souls with Catholic doctrine.

The wine is a symbol of sanctifying grace, which communicates to the branches the life of Him who said: “I am the true vine.”

The tribulations of this world are indicated by the water; for the saints can adopt the words of Scripture: “Great waters cannot extinguish charity in me.”

In the pigeons and turtle doves we find symbols of fidelity and the love of solitude. The dove, moreover, the messenger of peace, reminds us that the saints have completed their struggle with the world and are now reigning with God in the possession of eternal bliss and peace.

The small birds, inhabitants of the air, remind us that the saints, rising above the attractions of the things of earth, sought the Kingdom of Heaven and found their gratification in spiritual things.

Until recently the canonisation ceremony, with the Solemn Papal Mass, might occupy up to five hours, ending at about one o’clock in the afternoon. It has now been somewhat simplified, and so shortened, but it must still impose a very heavy strain on the venerable Vicar of Christ: It has been described as “the most solemn and imposing ceremony in the whole liturgy of the Church.”

From the brief account which we have given of the activities of the Congregation of Rites concerning processes of Beatification and Canonisation (and these form part only of the duties of the Congregation) it will be clear that the processes involve a great amount of detailed investigation, toilsome study, and critical discussion. If these processes seem to advance slowly, one reason may be found in their great number, of which an idea may be formed from the fact that the Sacred Congregation had in hand 362 causes in 1915, 551 in 1931, and over 600 in 1938. (These 600 included over 50 from the Society of Jesus).

Our readers, while praying for the promotion of God’s glory by the official recognition of the heroic virtue of His saints of every clime, will surely pray especially that success may crown the toils of those who promote causes appealing particularly to Irish hearts; among them-and they are many -the causes of Father John Sullivan, S.J., and Matt Talbot. And, as a closing word, we would urge our readers to add their fervent prayers-if they have not yet done so-to the nation-wide chorus of supplication that we may soon be able to hail as a canonised Saint the heroic Archbishop of Armagh, Primate of All Ireland, Blessed (subsequently Saint) Oliver Plunket, Martyr.

Nihil Obstat,

GULIELMUS DARGAN, S.J., Censor Theol. Depot.

Imprimi Potent,

@ JOANNES CAROLUS,

Archiep. Dublinen., Hiberniae Primas Dublini, die 15 Decembris, 1952.

********

Before The Threshold

LEONARD BOASE, S.J

INDEX

THE inward life of prayer is our truest life. It is our life with God, our life in relation to God; it is the seed sown in the soil of time that will grow into our eternal happiness.

The Threshold of Prayer was the name given to a little book about how to pray with the mind and heart: it is in allusion to that name that this pamphlet is called Before the Threshold, for it is to be about something in our inward life that must come, in a certain sense, before we cross the threshold of prayer: it is to be about the spiritual training that fits us for prayer. True, this training does not end when we begin to pray; it goes on all our lives, just as the endless practice at which a great musician toils goes on all his life, even when he has reached the pinnacle of his glory and is holding the world enthralled by his playing. Nevertheless, there is a true sense in which our spiritual training comes before the threshold of our inward life, just as it is true that the musician’s practice comes before his playing.

Anyone who knows a little about physical training knows how useless, if not dangerous, it is to put oneself into the hands of an incompetent instructor. And it is almost as true that a book giving a system of physical training is of very little use without a living instructor. In the same way, these notes on spiritual training are valueless compared with the direction of a living director. And yet how few are the souls who realise that they need some sort of direction, either through the spoken or through the written word. The fields are white to the harvest countless, indeed, are the good Christian men and women, plain folk, homely folk for the most part, who only need the guidance of a skilful hand to make them radiating centres of the light of Christ, powerful transmitters of His redemptive strength. It is for them, to lead them to seek for such a guiding hand, that these notes are written.

WHERE SHALL WE BEGIN?

Where, then, shall we begin? Let us suppose that for some considerable period of time you have been going regularly to confession. But every time there is more or less the same pitiful tale to tell, changed a little, perhaps, as different circumstances have brought different temptations and different occasions of sin, but, on the whole, much the same each time you go. You are tempted to give up; you begin to wonder secretly, is it worth while? You are depressed and inclined to despair. Then one day light breaks: a chance word in a sermon, perhaps, some phrase in a book, or, most likely of all, the effect of a retreat, something brings it home to you that your inward life, your spiritual life, must be a growth, that it is a life, is subject to the laws of our life, and therefore must not stand still, but must go forward, must develop, must grow. Let us begin there.

WHAT MUST WE DO?

What are we to do? Well, the first thing to do is to take stock, to try and understand the task that is before us. If you want to plant a garden, you begin by studying the space at your disposal, finding out what kind of soil you have, and selecting the plants and flowers that will best thrive in it and best suit the surroundings. You take advice, then you plan, you prepare the ground and you plant and sow. Then you wait. In somewhat the same way we have to get to know ourselves, to plan out our spiritual life and get to work. Then, as a rule, we have to wait, sometimes very patiently, while the cuttings strike and the seeds take root.

THE MASTER-THOUGHT

There is one master-thought that must control everything in our inward life. Just as a mother’s way with her children is ruled by the great fact of her love for them, just as all the decisions of a general in war-time are governed by the supreme necessity of Winning the war, so must this master thought rule and govern our life in all its ways. It is this: God first, God first and foremost in all things, at all times. Need we say why? Because He has made us, called us out of nothingness into being, given us all that we have and all that we are; because outside Him, without Him, we are meaningless scraps of nothingness, torn pages ripped out of a book, bits broken off from a design and fit only for the rubbish-heap. In Him, in relation to Him, and only so, are we truly what we should be. He is the centre; He is the all.

God first and foremost. This does not mean that we are to go about looking glum and sanctimonious. It does not mean that we are not to find joy and gladness in life. Quite the contrary. But it does mean that at times we shall have to wrench ourselves free from things that are dragging us away from God. It may be, for instance, that a certain person’s company leads us into sin we shall have to break that bond. Or again, that the warmth and cosiness of bed on a winter’s morning keeps us from the Mass that we might attend; we may have to drill ourselves into springing gaily and lightly out on to a cold linoleum at the first ting of the alarm.

But we must not think that putting God first means bidding a fond farewell to all the things that make life pleasant. Not at all. The guiding principle is this: if a thing is drawing me away from God, then I will give it up; but if it is leading me towards God, then I will accept it with joy and thanks. Normally, all good things, like sunshine and flowers, and food and drink, and friendship and love, will lead us towards God. The difficulty is about the abnormal case, but unfortunately, because of the Fallof Man, we are each and every one of us more abnormal, more “out of true,” than we like to think.

SIZING UP OURSELVES

That is why when we set to work to take stock of ourselves we begin by asking what is wrong with us. The question has been made only too easy by the helpful forms for examination of conscience that are to be found, as a rule, in prayerbooks. Of course, these forms are useful, especially for such as have been a long time away from confession, or are lazy and slack. But if, as we have here supposed, one is not in such poor case, then they are liable to do as much harm as good. They make going to confession too much like writing out a shopping list. They mask the living unity of the soul, dividing it up into sections like a departmental store. And, what is more serious, they tend to mask the real roots of our failings. For it is often true that the roots of our sins look smaller and less dangerous than the branches that grow out of them, and instead of pulling up the roots, we go on endlessly lopping off the branches. For instance, we may endlessly accuse ourselves of breaking the Church’s law by eating meat on Fridays, and may never observe the fact that the root of that sin is cowardice, being afraid to advertise the fact that we are Catholics.

Hence, when we begin to take stock of ourselves, it may be better to put the prayer-book away and not follow the form for examination of conscience. How, then, are we to begin? Here the advice of a confessor, or one who knows us well, can be very precious. Yet, however valuable, it cannot replace our own honest, sincere, courageous looking in the mirror.

It is not possible to give a rule of thumb which will suit everybody, a universal formula for finding the roots of one’s faults. But many people have one dominant defect, and so it is often useful to look, not for all our faults, but for the keyweakness. In one way or another it will be a form of selfishness, because all sin is at bottom a wrong love of self; but it may not be easy to recognise our special weakness as selfishness. Cowardice, for instance, does not at first sight look like a form of selflove, but it is: it is a love of one’s own comfort, or a fear of being hurt. Therefore, in hunting out our key- weakness, it may be useful to ask ourselves: What do I cling to most obstinately? What am I most afraid to lose? What am I most touchy and sensitive about? Or again, it is useful to begin by trying to see what general type one belongs to. Am I of the cave-man variety, smashing my way through everywhere with a cool disregard for others? Or am I of the timid kind, with a pack of petty meannesses slinking along at my heels? Our general characteristics often reveal themselves in the way in which we lack humility. We all lack humility, but some of us lack it because we have a blustering aggressive pride that boasts and asserts itself; others among us lack it because we are walking “inferiority complexes,” always painting ourselves a little blacker than we really think we are, in the secret hope that someone will say: “ Oh no, not at all; you aren’t a bit like that, really.” If you look close enough you will see that it is often pride which is at the root of this sort of thing.

But, as we said, there is no universal formula. Each one must study himself, and on the sincerity and honesty of that summing up will depend much of the growth that may follow.

THE STRATEGIC POINT

But why is it so good to discover our dominant fault? Because in the developing of our inward life, as in business or in a battle, or in a course of study, success follows from skilful ordering, or rationalising, or strategy. In order to build up our spiritual character with success we must plan, we must concentrate our attack. If we try to overcome all our faults at once we shall probably fail; we have to pick out one point and hammer away at that. And, therefore, obviously it should be a strategic point.

But notice, our dominant fault is not necessarily the most serious sin that we fall into. A man may fall once in a way, not as a habit, into serious sin through drink, and yet the fault which he would be well advised to deal with first may be something quite different, say a bad temper. A dominant fault is one which is the root of many others: dig that out and the rest will die too.

The faults of which we are speaking are habits. Diamond cut diamond: habits are only cured by habits. Therefore it is not enough to review our progress once a week or once a fortnight, when preparing for confession. We have to keep the matter more constantly before our minds: we ought to make an examination of conscience every day, and that with particular attention to the dominant habit we are trying to overcome. This self- inspection should be relatively brief; there is a danger in excessive introspection. St Ignatius of Loyola, in a letter to a Portuguese priest, once wrote “If by the grace of God our Lord the soul is at peace with God” (that is, if it is free from mortal sin) “make the confession short, without entering into details.” So, too, a daily examination of conscience must not be made the occasion of exasperating one’s nervous system. We should give more time to asking God for pardon and help, and to strengthening our resolves, than we give to the actual examination of our conscience.

THE WORK IS GOD’S

But no amount of strategic skill will lead to true development of our inward life if we go about it in a self-sufficient way. God resists the proud. Yet there are few of us who do not carry in our hearts at least an unconscious pride. It needs more than a big effort for us to grasp how completely dependent on God we are, and pride consists chiefly in not recognising that dependence.

It needs more than a big effort; in fact it is, humanly speaking, impossible. Our minds cannot grasp the idea of infinity; they cannot grasp how our created wills can be free; nor can they grasp how our being and our actions can be at the same time wholly ours and yet entirely God’s. Least of all can they grasp how in the domain of the spiritual life our actions depend entirely on God’s freely given grace, and yet remain truly our actions. We cannot grasp it; worse than that we can hardly believe it. We may indeed accept the idea in theory, but to act on it in practice, fully and completely, is to achieve the perfection of humility and to be among the saints.

Yet it is true, and vitally important the work is God’s.

God begins it. Perhaps the best way to picture to ourselves God’s activity will be this. Imagine a magnet and a sheet of paper covered with iron filings and lying in the magnetic field; when the filings are more than a certain distance from the magnet the force of attraction is not enough to overcome the friction between the filings and the paper; once this friction is overcome, the filings fly to the magnet; yet even before it is overcome, before the filings begin to move towards the magnet, the magnet is already attracting them. So it is with God’s work in our souls. That in us which corresponds to the friction is our lack of good will; once good will is present, then God draws the soul to Himself, but even before it responded He was already attracting it; indeed, His action is present at the very first beginning of the movement of will that submits the soul to grace.

And as God begins the work, so does He continue it, and so will He bring it to its end. And for us the practical consequence of this truth is: unbounded confidence and courage in our inward life; there is nothing, there can be nothing, which should make us afraid, nothing except our own stupidity in rejecting the help of God. And even that stupidity He will help us to avoid.

THE WORK IS ALSO OURS

The work is also ours. What follows from the fact that it is God’s work is an unshakable confidence; what must follow from the fact that it is also ours must be a measureless diffidence. Because it is God’s work we must not fear; because it is ours we must”work out our salvation in fear and trembling.”

Christianity is full of these apparent contradictions. “ He that will lose his life shall save it,” Christ Himself said. Chri st, the Church teaches, is truly God, yet He is also truly man. Marriage is good, she tells us, yet consecrated virginity is better; still, anyone who despises marriage in order to exalt virginity is being untrue to Christian thought. G. K. Chesterton drew attention to this way of putting clean-cut white by clean-cut red and not sinking to the pale pink of compromise. So is it with the double truth that underlies the spiritual life unbounded confidence and diffidence without measure, springing from different causes, must go side by side in our inward life, and neither must weaken the strength of the other.

If you like, we are walking a narrow bridge over a terrifying abyss; we are in danger of falling over as much on one side as on the other; therefore with head up and eyes on the far bank we must walk straight down the middle of the bridge. The work is ours: therefore we must be tireless in toiling for success, labouring as if all depended on ourselves. The work is God’s, therefore we must be sure of victory, calm as if the field were already won, utterly trustful as if everything depended on God alone.

FACE TO FACE WITH SIN

When Our Lady appeared to Bernadette Soubirous, the burden of what she taught her was-penance, penance, penance! It is not enough for us to approach God in a spirit of humble recognition of our dependence on Him; truth also requires that we come striking our breast, and saying: “0 God, be merciful to me, a sinner.” Not one of us has an adequate idea of his own sinfulness. Those who have come nearest to having such an idea, the saints, have sometimes seemed mad to their fellow-men, so much have they been crushed with horror at the sight of their sins, few and trifling though these have appeared to their fellows. From the outset our inward life must be lit by a humility burning with repentance; indeed, the normal beginning of a more intense spiritual life is a ““ conversion, an explosion, an earthquake, a blaze of light, which shatters our self-complacency and brings us face to face with our sins.

Nevertheless, there is a danger here. If our sorrow is lacking in sweetness, if it leaves a bitter taste in the heart, if it holds an anger against ourselves that is mingled with resentment, with a spiteful annoyance against the fate that has made us sinners, then let us beware. True contrition is sealed with peace. It is bitter-sweet. It is a sorrow that melts in the warmth of God’s mercy and forgiveness.

So, too, we must be careful when we dwell on the thought of the evil that is in us. We have been taught from childhood that our natural inclinations are prone to evil and will carry us to hell if they are not resisted. There are phrases in the letters of Saint Paul, to mention no others, which give authority to such a way of speaking. It is sound and true on one condition: it must be understood aright.

One of the earliest heresies that the Church had to grapple with was the horrible doctrine of the Manichees. They taught that all matter was evil in itself; therefore that our flesh was evil in itself; therefore, among other things, that parenthood was evil. They were swirled over the brink into the abyss. How low they sank can be judged from the fact that some of them taught that all foulness should be indulged in, to humiliate this evil flesh.

We have to be fearfully careful. Again we must grasp firmly two balancing truths that seem to contradict each other, for only in their blending can we find the entire truth. It is true that we are prone to evil, but it is also true that nothing which God makes is evil, and all our being comes from His hands. In this matter, as in so much else, we must avoid what the French call”simplisme”: there is no exact English translation for it: “excessive simplification” is as near as we can get. It is a word which warns us that, though the truth is always simple, it is never simple through an impoverishment which throws away essential elements.

All that God makes, then, is good. The evil that is in us is a failure, a falling short, a lack of what should be, a disorder in what is. And the practical point of this truth in our inward life is that, while we must never tire of hating our sins, we must never fall into the error of hating ourselves. If you start with the feeling that it is the very texture of your being which is evil, not only do you dishonour Him who made it, but you leave yourself open to despair and to gross temptations of the flesh.

True contrition, let us repeat, is full of peace and hope and joy.

WE MUST KNOW OUR NATURE

It is necessary to have true, balanced ideas about the evil in our lives.

It is also necessary to have sane, realist ideas about our nature. We are not angels, neither are we brutes; we are men, that is we are flesh and blood, animals with intelligence and will. It is fatal in the inward life to forget that we are much more than animals, but it is also dangerous to forget that we are animals.

In forming sane ideas about our nature, a study of psychology can help, but for the practical purposes of the spiritual life it is common sense that counts. Common sense will tell us what we need to know, and what we need to know is how our nature was meant to work, by God who made it. We need to know this because in order to see clearly what is wrong with a thing one must know how it goes when it is going right. We have to find out what is wrong with ourselves, and to do so we must know what would be right. Sin is disorder to correct it we must know the right order of our nature.

Sin is disorder. It is the disorder of forces which are good in themselves. We have in us two chief forces, one of which reaches out to things and draws them to ourselves, and one which smashes through obstacles and resistances. When we fail to put God first, the power which reaches out to things grows disordered in us, and from this spring all the forms of selfishness, greed, lust, and all their kind. When we fail to put God first, the power of smashing through resistances also becomes disordered; either it grows weak, and we become cowardly, despondent, timid, or it grows uncontrolled, and we fall into anger, hatred, revenge, and such-like faults. In planning our spiritual life we must first see clearly in what general way these forces are disordered in us, in order that we may know how to control them.

These forces in us act often through instincts. We are animals and have instincts, but they are unlike the instincts of the brutes in that they must be guided by our mind and will. The chief examples are the instinct for taking food and drink, the instinct of self-preservation, and the instinct of sex. It is very important that we should recognise the existence of these instincts, important not only because, recognising them, we can more easily control them, but even more perhaps (for such as those for whom these notes are meant) because, recognising them, we will not be filled with paralysing fears, imagining that there are evil forces at work within us where in reality there are only good and natural forces needing to be controlled.

THE VOICE OF CONSCIENCE

It is we who control the forces of our nature, by the help ofGod’s grace. It is our mind and will that control them. These judgments of our mind, declaring that such and such a desire, such and such an emotion, must be controlled; these judgments are what we call the voice of conscience. Conscience is not a voice within us other than ourselves. True, God helps; God may speak within us; His angel watching over us may speak to us, or guide us by a touch but conscience in itself is our own voice. It is by our own conscience that we shall be judged, but we shall be held responsible if we have muffled it. Progress in the inward life must include a progressive education of our conscience, and this we achieve through listening to the voice of God, both as He speaks outside us through His Church, and as He speaks, or moves us, from within.

NATURAL AND SUPERNATURAL

All, or almost all, that we have said so far might have been said by someone who had never heard of Christ. We have spoken of our nature as men. We have said nothing of the supernatural. Let us make a comparison. Supposing these notes had been notes on the art of painting, then all that we have said so far would have amounted to some remarks on the preparation of the canvas on which the pictures are to be painted, remarks on the qualities of the different canvasses, on the treatment necessary to fit them for receiving colour. Now, at this point, we should begin to speak of the colours themselves, of the various hues that were obtainable, of their selection and blending, of the tricks of light and shade. So in these notes we have spoken of the natural; we are now to speak of the supernatural. But we shall say nothing of the pictures themselves. Every single soul is a masterpiece of the Divine Artist; words are too poor to tell of the beauty of a soul in grace; we shall say nothing of the finished work. Our aim is but to speak of the simple colours out of which the masterpieces are designed.

There is a difference, vast beyond our conceiving, between the natural and the supernatural. It is a difference unsuspected by those who have not the Faith. “The sensual man,” says Saint Paul, meaning the man who does not see with the eyes of faith, “perceiveth not the things that are of the Spirit of God; for it is foolishness to him and he cannot understand.” Yet it is not upon the difference that I would put the emphasis here; it is upon the union, the blending, the interpenetration of the two.

IMAGES CAN MISLEAD

It is useful to compare our nature with a canvas, as if it were the canvas on which the Divine Artist painted. It is essential also to assert the all-but-infinite abyss -between the natural and the supernatural. But it is doubly dangerous to make the mistake of Chinking of the natural and the supernatural as if they were two things -apart. It is dangerous, first because it exposes us to a temptation of discouragement when we seem to see no results in our lives that we can recognise as supernatural. It is -dangerous, secondly, because it masks the value of our ordinary, natural, everyday actions.

To speak of the natural as a canvas is to use an image and, like all such images, this one is partly enlightening, partly misleading. To bring out the truth that it hides we might make use of another image; we might liken the natural to a diamond and the supernatural to light. Light falling on a diamond illuminates it, penetrates it, is refracted by it. In the light we see the diamond, but it is the diamond, not the light, that we see. It is the diamond which scintillates, flashing green and blue and red, and shining with white light. So, too, it is the supernatural which ennobles the natural, but when we see a saint it is a man we see. Those who walked with Christ in Galilee beheld the perfect man, but His divinity remained in light inaccessible.

In this life we shall probably-never begin to know what the supernatural is in itself; maybe if God should grant us the gifts of the highest prayer we should know something of it, but such gifts are for the few. Our task is to prepare our souls for God’s transforming work. We must not look to find too obvious evidences of the supernatural in our lives; it is enough for us to strive to bring order and beauty in our tangled nature we cannot measure the growth of grace in our souls; we can more easily measure our progress in patience and kindness and courage; we see them more from the human side than from the side of grace. But it is not wise to dwell too much on such things: “a watched pot never boils.” The important point is that we must never grow despondent, even when a long series of Holy Communions seems to bring no result.

THE APOSTLESHIP OF TOIL

It is also of the highest moment that we should see with the eyes of Faith the value of our everyday actions. The supernatural man is not a different man; it is ourself, but supernaturalised. Grace is not a colouring painted on from without. It is a quality that penetrates and permeates and ennobles the very texture of our being, the reality of our actions. If we understand this, we shall not be staggered to read in Saint Paul’s first letter to Timothy these words written of woman: “Yet she shall be saved by child-bearing, if she continue in faith and love, and sanctification, with sobriety.” We shall guess something of the mighty bower of atonement rising in the torrent of human toil, in that great mass of grinding, unending labour, which began when Almighty God spoke our sentence: “In the sweat of thy brow thou shalt earn thy bread,” and which acquired its redemptive power when God the Son took flesh to save His people from their sins.

THE SACRAMENTS

Our spiritual life is the joint work of God and of ourselves; in His considerate way He invites us to work with Him. We see mostly the human side; we only guess at the presence of grace from some of its effects. It is for the human side that we are responsible, and that is why in these notes we have spoken in the main as if it were a growth in human goodness that we were to plan. But that is far from the truth; it is the supernatural side, the work of God, which is all-important. Therefore, to help our weakness, to make it easier for us to remember that it is the—supernatural which really counts, God has chosen to give us the Sacraments. The Sacraments are precisely things that we can see and hear and feel, and that are yet at the same time—the instruments of that supernatural life which we cannot see or hear or feel. He has taken the simple things of our life, cleansing water, food and drink, oils of anointing, and made them most marvellously the means by which He gives us grace. Therefore the most important part of a rightly ordered spiritual life is the frequent reception of the Sacraments.

We see the human side, but even in that human and visible side grace is at work. For the natural and the supernatural are inextricably blended, and it is precisely by the action of grace that God heals our stricken nature, even in those habits and ways of acting that seem to be but natural. We may feel, for example, that a growth in patience comes from habits we are forming through our own deliberate acts, but in truth it will be due chiefly to the action of supernatural grace.

Perhaps this comparison will bring out the truth. Imagine an old-time kingdom in which taxes were paid to the king in person, but were not paid by those of noble rank. Imagine that for some signal service rendered the king desired to free a certain servant from taxation. He could do it simply by declaring him exempt, but he could also do it by raising him to noble rank. So God, who might have healed our nature without raising it to the supernatural, has chosen rather in His abundant mercy to do it in this grander way, so that “where sin abounded grace might more abound,” and the ills of our disordered nature be set right by an endowment raising it above its rank. In doing so He was in point of fact restoring us to a rank in which He had set us at the creation of race, and from which we had fallen through the sin of our first parents, but this does not alter the fact that .is here of importance, namely, that it is by the gift of grace that He enables us to overcome our sins.

GROWTH IS SLOW

The Sacraments, then, are the principal factor in the growth of our inward life; they are God’s immediate instruments in achieving the share in the work which He has reserved for Himself. But because these notes are chiefly an answer to the question: “What must we do in order to take our share in the work? “ it is rather on the human side that the emphasis is laid. In this field of humble human effort nothing is more necessary than patience. God has so designed our life that our spiritual growth follows closely the lines of our natural growth: it is normally slow. There is a little gem among the parables of Our Lord which teaches this lesson. “So is the kingdom of God, as if a man should cast seed into the earth, and should sleep and rise, night and day, and the seed should spring, and grow up whilst he knoweth not. For the earth of itself bringeth forth fruit: first the blade, then the ear, afterwards the full corn in the ear. And when the fruit is brought forth, immediately he putteth in the sickle, because the harvest is come.” It is while we sleep and rise, night and day, and while we know not, that the work of grace goes on in us, unnoticed, and the character is formed and fashioned to that beauty which it shall wear forever. And in this slow and secret growth time is a divinely appointed factor.

A superior of a certain religious institution, admiring the reliable qualities he thought he saw in the men of another, asked of one who held responsibility for their training: “What do you put into your training which brings these results? The answer was brief.

“Time,” replied the other.

BE CONTENT TO BE HUMAN

It is a lesson that is hard to learn. Called, as we are, to a life that is nothing less than divine, it is only too easy to forget that we must be content to be human. Our pride also pricks and prompts us to impatience. We admire the ideal and we think to reach it in ten strides. Ten thousand weary ploddings may not bring us there. We must be content to be human, seeing with sorrow but without bitterness our countless falls, our idling by the way; never ceasing to endeavour, but never souring our endeavour with that violence that comes of angered pride.

You might draw a ship through water with a silken cord if you pulled gently and steadily enough, but even a hawser would break if the jerk were too sudden and too” violent.

We must be content to be human also in this, that we must not try to be what we were never meant to be. God breaks the mould when He has made a man, for each of us is unique. You cannot copy all the saints, and it is in their virtues, not in their peculiarities, that one should strive to be like them. And the real saints were never stiff and starched, nor even too prim and too proper. Love is the great commandment of the Law, and it is by listening for the voice of God within us, not by adopting an outward pose, that we shall grow in holiness.

POSITIVE DEVELOPMENT

It is wise to begin a serious endeavour to grow in holiness by singling out some weakness in ourselves and dealing first with that. There are, as usual, two extremes to be avoided: one is abandoning an attempt before a habit has even begun to be formed, flitting from one plan to another like a restless butterfly; the other is grinding away at one fault long after the effort has ceased to be proportionately useful, like a little dog without an appetite gnawing a bone from a misplaced sense of duty. But how are we to know when to change? How are we to know when it is best to stop paying special attention to one point in our character and to turn to another? Again, either through guidance from a director or through our own common sense assisted by grace. For common sense assisted by grace is nothing else than the cardinal virtue of prudence.

Change, then, is desirable, at the proper time, since we must be content to be human, and human nature cries out for a certain measure of variety. And it is also desirable not only to change our special attention from one fault or failing to another, but also at times to fix it not on the overcoming of a fault so much as on the building up of a positively good habit, such, for instance, as the habit of frequent prayer by means of short ejaculations as we go about our daily work. It is a good thing to concentrate our effort, to keep one idea at a time especially before our mind, but it is also good that this idea should be from time to time that of some positive development, and not always the somewhat discouraging idea of a fault.

PENANCE AND SELF-DENIAL

Yet it is not enough just not to do wrong things, nor even just to do right things, glorious as that is. We are sinners we must approach God with penance. We are fallen men: we must do a certain violence to ourselves. No inward life will come to maturity without the iron of self-denial.

It was this lesson, perhaps above all others that Christ came to teach, and He who died upon the Cross declared: “If any man will come after me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross daily and follow me.”

It is this lesson which is perhaps hardest of all to learn today. We fight shy of the very words penance and mortification.

Let us try to understand them; they are two different things, and between them they hold the secret of the Cross.

Sin has two consequences: one is that by it we offend God; the other is that we damage our own nature. Because we have offended God we deserve punishment; because we have damaged our nature we need to have it restored to health and right order. In His mercy God has given us suffering, for suffering is the current coin of atonement; by bearing as a punishment for sin whatever pains His Providence imposes on us, and even by adding freely to such pains, we make in union with Christ, atonement for sin: that is penance.

For most of us, penance lies chiefly in glad submission to the pains that God imposes on us, including the fasts and abstinences ordered by the Church: and by the gladness of our submission we can make up what is wanting to the severity of the pains.

The saints down the ages have practised penance to an extent that seems terrifying to us, adding to the hardships of their lives incredible austerities. We are even tempted to pass judgment on them and to see in their austerities the excesses of imprudence. It is dangerous. It is better to humble ourselves and recognise that we do not understand the love that drove them to such lengths. But there is also another danger: common sense tells us that such austerities are beyond our reach, therefore we give way to discouragement and, letting our hands fall to our sides, give up the hope of approaching towards holiness. It is a subtle temptation. Again, humility is the surest safeguard: it may indeed be that God does mean us to be only very small flowers in His garden; if it is so, let us be content with that. It is better to be the daisy that He wishes us to be than to fade from discouragement because we cannot reach the beauty of the rose.

Pain, or the renunciation of good and lawful things, imposed upon ourselves as penance, these things are like medicine it is not well in such matters to prescribe without guidance for ourselves. There is enough opportunity for penance, to begin with, in bearing patiently with the weather, and our illnesses, and our work, and the contrariness of our neighbours (as they have to bear with ours). “It is the spirit which quickeneth.” It is the sorrow and submissiveness with which we atone for our sins that make the atonement pleasing in God’s eyes.

MORTIFICATION

Pain and the renunciation of good and lawful things is a medicine to be used with caution. Mortification is as harmless as exercise and fresh air. For mortification is nothing else than that self-discipline in rooting out our faults which has been the chief topic of these notes. We call it mortification, a word which suggests death, but it might have been called vivification, a word which suggests life. It is the death of something which is in itself a kind of death, to give light and air to the life that is our truest life. Christian tradition, taking its note from the stern words of Christ himself, and from th e vivid imageries of Saint Paul, has dwelt rather on its aspect of death, in order to emphasise the need for vigorous effort that it entails. But it is simply the wrenching back into God’s appointed order of the disordered inclinations of our nature. It can be painful, and then the pain can be offered to God as a penance. The drunkard, for instance, fighting against his craving for drink, may have to suffer mental agonies, and of these agonies can make atonement for his sin. But the process is not necessarily painful; indeed, there is a great delight in feeling that the powers of our nature are working as God intended them to work. When we have so far conquered our faults that it no longer hurts us to resist our inclinations towards them, then the name mortification seems less appropriate, and we tend to speak rather of building up virtues. But it is one process: not a process of killing nature in order to make room for the supernatural, but a process of setting nature right in order that grace may be grafted upon it. It is nothing very terrifying; but it is something very necessary.

OUTWARD REGULARITY

It is comparatively easy to reach a top note in singing; the difficult thing is to hold it. Similarly, the difficult thing about self-denial and the inward life is to keep it up. That is one reason why a director is needed: we shall hardly keep ourselves up to the mark without one, and an attempt at the spiritual life which lasts no longer than a fashion in ladies” hats is not much use at all. A director is needed, and so is some measure of outward regularity, regular confession and Communion, self-examination, prayer-something simple and practicable, not a repertoire of so-called pious practices which make one a nuisance to everyone around. Remember the sad example of the religious who kept the whole community waiting in going up stairs by stopping on every step to recite an ejaculation. Prudence must guide us, and prudence is sanctified common sense.

ROUTINE THE SHEET-ANCHOR

Routine, a certain measure of outward regularity, is needed as a sheet-anchor. The spiritual life often starts in sunshine; it almost invariably grows bleak after a while. The winds of desolation begin to howl. You get “the blues,” and begin to see all sorts of reasons for being sorry for yourself. Next comes a stage of dryness in which nothing seems of any interest, least of all the business of preparing for a happy eternity; indeed, the thought of any sort of eternity is enough to make you scream.” Inferiority complexes” develop, and you crawl around wondering how you can endure your miserable self any longer. After that, things begin to brighten up a bit, and there follows a period in which you discern with remarkable acumen the absurdities, the foibles, the foolishness-of other people. You find your critical faculties awakening and are able to make with facility caustic comments on the institutions that surround you and hamper your liberty, and on the people who run those institutions. Self-satisfaction returns, and with it a tendency to strut and play to the gallery, and a strong taste for pleasures of a less than spiritual kind, not to say of a worldly flavour. After that you begin to feel a little better. You begin to see yourself once more in something more like the light of truth, and the judgments you pass on others become less sparkling and witty and a good deal closer to objective fact. Finally, by the mercy of God, the sun shines out again, and life becomes good and sweet. You have been over-tired, and nature has taken the rest-cure into her own hands, that is all. But heaven help your inward life if during that storm you have not had some very definite and practical routine to hold you off the rocks.

CAUSES OF DESOLATION

Not everyone goes through the cycle outlined here; there are more varieties of desolation in the inward life than there are of the common cold. Nor is it true that these bleak periods are always due to fatigue or to being run down. They may be a trial directly caused by God, but that should not readily be supposed. God works normally through secondary causes, such as our state of health, in this connection. The bleakness may be due to the fact that we have grown lazy and given up the attempt to lead an inward life, or have been led astray by some jacko”-lantern, some interest, some enthusiasm, some affection, that has not been leading us to God. The cure in that case begins with the removal of the culpable cause; the trouble is that there may be nothing to make us want to remove it. When the spiritual life is flat because it is swamped by the life of cinemas and theatres, or of sport and money-making, or of frocks and frills and chitter-chatter, or even by a too great absorption in useful work, then it takes something providentially explosive, like a powerful sermon, to lift us out of the rut.

But often desolation is due to fatigue. Then we must rest. The cure for over-work is not to go on overworking. Do not suppose that because God sends you desolation through no fault of your own He does not expect you to take steps to get rid of it. He does. The first necessity is not to be impatient under it; but after that you have to do what you can to get rid of it, just as God expects you to get rid of hunger by eating, of sleepiness by sleeping, and of sickness by taking care of yourself. Desolation is a great enemy of cheerfulness, and cheerfulness is an apostolate in itself. For cheerfulness is a means of waking joy in others, and to bring joy to others is to continue the work of Christ. Therefore, when the signs of fatigue appear, be wise and take some rest- if you can.

ANXIETY

Akin to desolation is anxiety. There are people who habitually keep their nerves as frayed as an old rope’s-end. They fidget over their confessions, whether they have told everything, whether the confessor has understood, whether they are truly sorry, they worry about their fitness to receive Communion, they fret about the perfection of their souls, and in general they go about the business of salvation as if Almighty God were a querulous schoolmaster and not the tenderest of fathers. At the root of this is unrecognised pride and the wish to be self-sufficient. After all, if our salvation depended mostly on ourselves, who would not despair? No, it is not the will of our Father in heaven that one of His little ones should perish, and He is infinitely powerful, infinitely wise, and infinitely kind. He is quite capable of looking after us if, like children, we will trust ourselves to His care. Fretting is dangerous because it can be the beginning of the disease of scruples.

Anxiety-ridden persons are a great burden to a director, but they are especially in need of his help. For the function of a director is not only to advise. He is also a sort of lightning-conductor or safety-valve. He is there in order that one may open one’s soul to him, and by so doing not only be saved from error, but also be eased from a growing pressure of conscientiousness, which, if not discharged, might become anxiety or even turn to scruples. For both these reasons, to mention no others, it is of capital importance to be absolutely frank and honest with him. But we must be content to be human, and be satisfied with making a clean breast of things in a human way, not endlessly endeavour to convey every shade and detail -of the facts. It cannot be done.

OBEDIENCE

After frankness, obedience. It is a waste of the priest’s time to ask his advice if you do not intend to follow it and, on the other hand, God usually rewards the humility which takes advice. Admittedly, a director (as distinct from a priest acting strictly in the capacity of a confessor) only gives advice, and not commands, but the advice should normally be followed. Experience indeed may prove to us that a certain director is doing us more harm than good, and prudence may dictate a change of directors; but it must be prudence, not caprice.

The capricious creature who flutters from one director to another is hardly more of a nuisance than the chatterbox. One of the perils of direction is that it may foster that subtle form of selfishness, the love of talking about oneself. Learn to be brief and businesslike; it is an excellent, form of mortification. Do not take more of the priest’s time than you need; others may be in trouble, and it is the duty and privilege of the director to help those who are in trouble; you may need him terribly yourself one day.

A director is there to help; he is not there to save us the trouble of living our own lives. “Many put themselves into the hands of another for their own pleasure and ease, wherein they are mightily deceived,” wrote that shrewd Frenchwoman, Marguerite Acarie. A good director, as Père de Grandmaison has remarked, teaches people how to do without him. A director may be something like a nurse, but he is not meant to be a perambulator; it is not his function to save us walking on our own legs, and the director who tries to live other people’s lives for them is a menace.

When all is said and done, the supreme director of souls is the Holy Spirit. Men are but His instruments. His guidance is constant, but it is very gentle. Our Lord drew attention to His own meekness, and the Spirit of God is meek; He will never force His guidance upon us. We must not expect Him to show us what we are to do if we do not listen to what He tells us through His Church, through the Commandments, through the normal judgments of our conscience, but even when we have “kept all these things from our youth” we must not think that He will usually direct us by means of words that we shall hear in our hearts. You may make a retreat and at the end of it seem to have learnt nothing new, to have heard no special message. Do not be discouraged; imperceptibly but surely your mind will have grown clearer and your will stronger, and it will be when next you are faced with some more difficult decision, some choice that calls for greater light and strength, that you will become aware of the increase that God has given.

The Spirit of God is meek and gentle. He gives His special guidance not as a burden but as a reward. It is by listening that we come to hear Him, and the reward of listening is that we hear more clearly. Therefore the grand and simple secret of the inward life is prayer, constant prayer, prayer that comes more and more to fill our lives, to fill them in its own wonderful way not by emptying out what is good, but by penetrating and transforming and illumining all.”Non eripit mortalia qui regna dat coelestia,” sings the Church in one of her hymns; He who brings us the kingdom of heaven takes from us none of the dear human things that He Himself has given. He enriches all. A life of prayer sheds a radiance on our world. The radiance comes from God. He is so good, so kind, so wise, so powerful, that our most ecstatic dreams of Him are pale beside His truth, and when it is in His light that we see life we see it anew, clothed in a beauty that outruns desire. He is the light of our life, our wonderful God, and we can do nothing better than to fill our minds and hearts with glorious thoughts of God.

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Before You Wed

BY HUBERT MCEVOY

INDEX

F I R S T S T Y L E

“ BEHOLD, all things are ready: come ye to the marriage.” These words of St Matthew’s may be heard from many Catholics coming to see the priest about marriage.

The date is fixed, the civil authorities given due warning that this couple intend to be married on this particular day, at this church, by such a priest. The guests are invited, bridesmaids and best man chosen, the appointment made with the photographer, details of the reception settled, down to the last place at the table. The couple then attend to the least important matter-they come to tell Father . . .”Come you to the marriage.”

“We want to be married, Father.”

Every priest knows that feeling of taking hold of himself and preparing for the worst when he hears this announcement. “Both Catholics, of course?”

“Oh, yes.” (The priest makes an act of thanksgiving.) “Well, we can perhaps arrange a suitable date.

“Oh, it’s all arranged.” (This with a firm sort of smile.) “I see. What date had you thought of?”

“A fortnight on Friday, Father. You see . . .” and so on.

The priest notes that he’s not supposed to have any arrangements of his own, but decides not to say anything. It will mean some rearranging; he’s had to do it so often before.

“You know the banns have to be called three times, and there are only two Sundays left ?”

The answer to this is silence, implying that if the Church likes to make awkward regulations, she has only herself to blame. “Well, we shall need your baptismal certificates.”

“I’ve got my birth certificate, but it doesn’t say anything about baptism.”

The priest knows what has happened. The certificate had not been brought in at the baptism for endorsement.

“Have you any idea in which church you were baptised? There are over fifty churches in Manchester, you know !”

“No. My father and mother can’t remember the name of the church. We didn’t live there very long.”

“Well, we shall have to find out.”

The priest, of course, is expected to do the finding out. He notes the address, and wonders which of the Manchester priests, all perfect strangers, he can try his luck with and ask him to find out in which parish this particular street is. Experience tells him that the effort to find out means letters, perhaps long-distance calls and telegrams, the cost of which will never be mentioned.

Then he has an idea—“Can your parents remember the name of the priest who baptised you ?”

“My father says it was a Fr Richards. But mother says it was a Fr Richmond.”

However, the priest has to keep his optimism going. In the end it turns out to have been a Fr Wilson-one of the many things that were not as they were said to be.

“Well, we’ll see what we can do. We have to make sure you are baptised.”

By this time the atmosphere is getting, not as yet tense, but doubtful. It’s a nuisance the Church going on as though “all things were not ready.” All this about baptism seems so very unimportant to the young couple when everything else has been settled so efficiently.

The red light begins to glow!

“I didn’t think there would be all this bother, Father.”

The priest sighs and resolves to be kind, if he’s given half a chance. He’s heard this remark about “all this bother” so often. He might point out that he’s merely asked for a proof of baptism, just as the Registry Office wanted a proof of the date of birth. But he decides to get on with the business of finding the baptismal record which, after all, is not his responsibility.

He reflects ruefully that he hasn’t yet tackled James, the less important partner. This time the situation is quite clear -James has no baptismal certificate but knows definitely where he was baptised. So the priest resolves that James, at least, shall do something for himself.

“That’s simple. You write for a baptism certificate, giving the date of your birth. Send a stamped addressed envelope.” (The Church considers courtesy as one of the important virtues.)

“But the priest who baptised me is dead now, Father.” “That’s all right. He hasn’t taken the baptism register with him. Mention that you want a certificate of freedom.” “What’s that, Father?”

“You know that people do commit bigamy, and the law only punishes them if it happens to find out ?”

(Silence here as good as to say-”Go on, it’s your move.”)

“Well, the Church goes one better. As soon as you are married I have to send a record of it to both places where you were baptised. If you have really been married before, you’ll be found out when you write for that certificate of freedom.”

The priest notes that this information about the up-to-date methods of the Church isn’t thought very interesting.

“It will be all right about the date, won’t it, Father ?”

“I suppose so. I’ll have to make sure no one else has booked it.” (About the only bull’s eye he’s been able to score!)

He can’t, rather wickedly, help hoping it has been booked. However it hasn’t, so he returns to say so. He doesn’t say anything about the changing of his own arrangements, knowing the state of mind which goes with, Behold, all things are ready.

(Then, on the way to the door,)

“The certificates will be here in time, won’t they, Father? You see, everything else is ready.”

S E C O N D S T Y L E

“I came about getting married, Father.”

“Splendid. Both Catholics, I hope ?”

“No, he’s not a Catholic, Father.”

“That’s a pity. Have you known him long?”

“Nearly four years.”

“What religion is he ?”

“I’m afraid I don’t know what it is exactly.”

“And you’ve been going with him four years! You know that strikes me as strange and rather risky. He might be a spiritualist who doesn’t believe our Lord was God, or a Quaker who doesn’t believe in Baptism or any other Sacraments.

Why, he might even be a Mormon, and that would be awkward for you!”

“I’m sure he’s not any of those.”

“How do you know? Does he go to any church ?”

“Yes, nearly every Sunday, but I’ve forgotten which it is.” (N.B. This conversation, so far, is founded on fact!)

“Have you ever asked him to come to church with you?” “No, Father.”

“Why not? You might easily find he would get interested.”

“Well, I wouldn’t like him to change just to please me.”

Now after the ancient saying, I didn’t think there would be all this bother, there’s no more worn-out and wearisome remark than, I wouldn’t like him to change just for me! It hits the priest hard just because it is so ancient and hard.

One can’t help wondering is the reason for never mentioning religion dictated by fear of losing the chance of marriage? Is it that they would sooner have a partner who doesn’t know too distinctly how a Catholic should live up to the faith? Is it the fear that the non-Catholic might become inconveniently religious ?

“But he wouldn’t become a Catholic just to please you. He would have to show that he was becoming a Catholic just to please God.”

“Does that mean he would have to take instructions?” “It does.”

“I don’t think he would like to, Father. He wouldn’t mind being married in the Church, and he wouldn’t interfere with me.”

“How can you be sure about all that if you’ve never mentioned religion to him? Have you asked him about these points ?”

“No, but I’m sure he would be willing to sign the promises and let the children be brought up as Catholics. He told me so.” “Then you must have spoken about it.”

“No. You see, he asked a Catholic friend of his.”

The priest wonders would it be any use saying how very curious it seems that the young man goes to a stranger to find out things which affect the girl most intimately, but he decides to stick to the main issue.

“You say he’s faithful to his religion and goes regularly to his church. I know that you go regularly to yours-but, does he know? Doesn’t it strike you as a contradiction that a man can be keen about his religion and yet allow his children to be brought up in a different one? If he’s really keen on his religion, that means he thinks it’s true, and that yours isn’t. Yet he’ll promise to bring his children up in it! Would you promise to bring your children up as Quakers ?” “Of course not, Father; but he’s not at all bigoted.”

“That’s another contradiction, and even if it’s true, I still wouldn’t answer for his keeping the promises.” “Why, Father ?”

“Because you haven’t shown him that you care very much whether he does or not.”

(She manages to evade this unpleasant truth rather neatly.)

“I really came to ask if you would get a dispensation.”

“I’ll do what I ought, of course, but it isn’t the priest who asks for the dispensation, it’s yourself. Lots of people think the dispensation depends upon whether the priest is kind enough to ask for it. That’s not true. It depends absolutely upon the reasons which the Catholic party can produce. As far as I see, in your case, there isn’t any good reason except that you want to get married.”

The priest knows that this is a “nasty one.” Naturally, that they want to marry is the best possible reason. “You see, your age is against you. You are only twenty-one.”

“But I know a girl who got one and she was thirty-eight.”

“Yes, that was the reason. The Church was merciful because she wouldn’t easily find another partner at that age!” “My cousin got one and she was nearly as young as myself.”

“When was that ?”

“About twelve years ago.”

“That was before the war. Times have changed now. You can think of lots of things you could do ‘once upon a time.’ The Church applies the law according to circumstances. She applies it easily, today, in the matter of fasting and abstinence.” The priest, being due to take the evening devotions, decides to let these arguments sink in, and leads up to the important question.

“You know that when forwarding your application for a dispensation, the priest has to testify that, in his considered opinion, it is morally certain that your young man, having signed the promises, will also keep them. But I can’t say I’m certain, because I don’t know him at all.”

“I could bring him to see you, Father.”

A more careful remark than it seems. What is desired is a sort of state visit for the purpose of securing the dispensation, with everything conducted in the presence of the girl. There’s always a fear that the priest will “spoil the chances.”

“But I should want to see him more than once. I can’t make up my mind until he has had a number of instructions, and he knows what he is binding himself to in signing the promises.”

“I don’t know when he could come. He works very late.”

There are always a lot of obstruction tactics at this point. Sometimes it’s night-work, sometimes night-classes. “You only see him at week-ends then ?”

“Oh no. I see him on week nights too.”

“Well, you can easily spare him one night. Bring him to Benediction next Sunday, and I’ll see him afterwards.” A very doubtful silence here!

“He’s never been in a Catholic church before, Father.”

“That’s no reason why he shouldn’t make a start.” (It turns out that he has been mystified why his girl never asked him to go.)

“By the way, when were you thinking of being married ?” “About next May. We haven’t fixed the date yet.” The priest breathes freely. It gives him a chance to see what he can do, and time for the grace of God to work.

“Bring him along. You needn’t be scared or you’ll scare him. Tell him I’m interested to know whom you are marrying.”

The girl goes away plainly doubtful about the wisdom of all this, and the priest makes a note to keep next Sunday evening free, as the girl may be sensible and bring the young man to Benediction. Probably he will have to remind her to let her see that he’s in earnest. He looks at his watch as he closes the door-four minutes to Evening Service.

T H I R D S T Y L E

“Good evening, Father. I wanted to see you about getting married. I don’t think you know me.”

“Good evening. Actually I do know you. At least I’ve seen you before. But I didn’t know you were in this parish.” “Oh, yes, my family have been living here six years, Father, but no priest has called. My mother is a bit upset about it. In the last parish, the priest used to come regularly.”

“So would this priest if he’d known. But he’s not upset about it because it isn’t his fault. Did you give your name and address in when you came to the parish ?”

“I don’t think so, Father.”

“Well, you mustn’t ask the impossible, you know. The priest isn’t trained as a parish sleuth, or a private inquiry agent.”

However, all this is so familiar to the priest that he merely takes the opportunity to get details of the family, then turns to the business in hand, and slowly collects the awkward facts: the girl is not a Catholic, isn’t interested in religion, though willing, as they all are, to sign promises and be married in a Catholic church.

“It’s a pity you should want to marry a girl who hasn’t any religion when there are plenty of good Catholic girls.” “Catholic girls are so stand-offish, Father.”

“I’ve often heard that said, and your saying it again doesn’t make it more true. I should have thought you were old enough not to judge by impressions alone, and not to believe all you hear just because you hear it often. Do you know any Catholic girls ?”

“No, Father.”

“Well, don’t you think it unfair to charge them with being stand-offish when you are clearly the biggest culprit yourself?

Have you been to any parish dances, plays, and other meetings ?”

“I went to a concert once, but nobody spoke to me.”

“Why didn’t you start the speaking yourself? Seriously, it doesn’t surprise me that you’ve made up with a non-Catholic considering the lone-wolf Catholic you seem to have been. No, you mustn’t blame Catholic girls. My experience has been that, although they have a right and a duty to be reserved, they’re a lot more forthcoming than the Catholic men. “However, this non-Catholic girl you think of marrying-have you ever thought that you are gravely deceiving her ?” “How do you make that out, Father ?”

“Because you are not the kind of man she thinks you are. You tell me that she is not interested in religion, and because you accept that calmly she’s bound to think that you will fall in with her views. Therefore, you are deceiving her by leading her to believe that you can live happily with her, when in fact, you can’t.

“She can’t help your children to be good Catholics in the way that your own mother helped you. I’m not forgetting that some non-Catholic mothers do their duty in that respect much better than many Catholic ones, but they are the exception. And she can’t help you to be a good Catholic.”

“Well, I think I’m old enough to look after myself now.”

“Don’t you believe it! Nobody’s old enough to do that. We all depend upon each other’s example much more than we think, as you can tell by the number of people who come late for Mass.”

“I’m hardly ever late for Mass.”

“It’s good to hear it, but isn’t that because your mother trained you, made you get up, told you what Mass to go to, made sure that you did go? Perhaps she does some of these things still ?”

“I’ll say she does!”

“Exactly, and your non-Catholic wife won’t, because she doesn’t know the importance of being in time at Mass, or even of being at Mass at all. That’s just one of the many things she can’t be interested in, or understand. Again, there is our custom of abstinence days. Your wife will have to do without meat, or, if she chooses to have it, as she is free to do, then it won’t look well. These customs do cause inconvenience in a household, you know, and it’s hard for a non-Catholic to see the sense of it.”

“I admit I hadn’t thought of it. But she knows we have different customs and I’m sure we will get on all right.” “I hope so. You can’t tell which, or how many, of them she will dislike. It’s not the practices themselves-it’s you practising them that’s the trouble, and you don’t solve the difficulty by telling her of them; she has to appreciate the reason for them.

Have you ever spoken of Confession ?”

“There surely wouldn’t be any difficulty there ?”

“I can only say there might be, because there often is. Quite good, careful wives do have suspicious natures. They can’t get used to the idea of their husbands having confidences with, for instance, the doctor or lawyer. They even object to a private conversation with their own mothers! And, as you know, the Confessional is the last word in secrecy. Most non-Catholics regard it as the last word in what is strange and sinister. They imagine their husbands saying all kinds of things in there! Sometimes there’s real difficulty about the husband, still more the children, going out fasting to Mass and

Communion. So you can take it these difficulties often cause serious quarrels, serious because they’re constant, because the observance of Catholic practices has to be constant, unless the Catholic partner gives in for the sake of peace. Even that giving in doesn’t really bring happiness. Catholics can’t be happy neglecting their religion and seeing their children neglecting it.”

“I’ll never let that happen, Father.”

“Perhaps not, but it may cost you more than you think. There’s a deep-rooted conviction in every girl’s mind that, once married, she can bring her husband round to her ways of thinking, and she’s got all the wisdom of Eve for centuries, as well as the experience of her friends, to help her to do it in a way that you won’t spot. She’s seen so many other wives do it successfully, and they’re quite ready to share the recipe with her!”

“Thanks, I’ll watch out for that!”

“Do, but do it in time. Many married men would find it a revelation to sit down and note the number of things they’re doing they never intended to do, or made up their minds never to do. Also the number of things they’ve given up hope of doing which they once regarded as part of their young lives.”

“Well, everything’s a risk, Father.”

“Not everything, many things. And you do try to cut down the number of risks you have to take, don’t you ?” “Oh, we’ve thought about it pretty carefully, Father.”

“I know what you mean. You’ve done a lot of planning, talking, about houses, furniture, money, and how far your relatives come into the picture, and so on. That is what you mean, isn’t it?”

“Well, yes.”

“But these are the least important things, though they are important. They are the things which make a house to live in, but not necessarily a home to be happy in. I know a fair number of handsome houses that aren’t homes. Has your girl said anything about children?”

“We’ve mentioned it. We should like to have children, of course.”

“I see. You haven’t answered my question, but you’ve made me understand quite a lot.”

“You mean the Church forbids birth-prevention ?”

“Yes, mainly that, though remember the Church says it is forbidden, quite a different thing from saying that she forbids it. It is forbidden by God and by the very make-up of man’s nature, as continued drunkenness is forbidden.” “I know birth-control is wrong, Father. I’ve made up my mind not to have anything to do with it.” “I’m glad to hear you say it, but I want you to realise that it comes under the heading of risks to be foreseen and guarded against. Have you ever mentioned the matter to your girl?”

“I remember telling her that the Church didn’t agree with it.”

“In fact, you have no idea about her attitude on the matter.”

“I suppose that’s so.”

“Now, look, this really does touch the point. I said you were not fair to the girl, leaving her in ignorance about the Catholic way of life, under the impression that she could go her way and you go yours. Now it’s quite true that there’s no difficulty about her not going with you to Mass, or not fasting or abstaining, or not doing a lot of other things. There you can, up to a point, agree to differ, but, in the question of the use of marriage, that principle won’t work. It makes many a mixed marriage become unbearable and leads to loss of the faith. Just as it would be wrong, from the wife’s way of looking at things, for you to want her to follow Catholic customs in the matter of worship, so to her it’s wrong that she should be asked to observe Catholic principles in the use of marriage, when she definitely doesn’t want to.” “I’ve got to admit you’re right there, Father.”

“That brings us then to the one possible conclusion-your girl has got to know what living with a Catholic husband means, therefore she has to be told what his religion is. You admit your girl has the right to know all important matters about the man she’s going to marry ?”

“Certainly.”

“For instance, you would gravely deceive her if you led her to believe you were in perfect health with a good salary and therefore reasonably certain to go on supporting her, and any children, when you knew your health was very uncertain and your salary poor?”

“Of course. But, isn’t that a question of ifs, Father? I’m healthy, and my job is steady and well-paid.” “But you admit that it would be unfair if you deceived the girl on these points ?”

“Yes, it would.”

“Well, it’s a true comparison. I’ve shown you that from the point of view of religion, you are not the man she thinks you are. I’ve shown you that some of these differences are so important that they amount to grave deception. And, it’s because non-Catholic partners afterwards come to feel, and rightly, that they’ve been badly taken in that so many mixed marriages break down.

“However, it comes to this: I’ve tried to make these points bigger question-marks in your mind. I’m leaving it to you to think it all over and let me know what you decide.”

F O U R T H S T Y L E

The priest summoned to the parlour, and given the caller’s name, with the added information, “and there’s a lady with him,” knows he’s going to meet the non-Catholic girl of the last chapter. He knocks at the parlour door, pauses a diplomatic moment, and then enters.

“Good evening. You will be Miss-. I’m glad to meet you.”

A faint, very cautious smile is the only reply. The priest chats generally for a few minutes in order to learn something of the girl, her home, friends, work, even the places she may have lived in. Experience has taught him that, in these days, when people move about so freely, nearly always some common interests are discovered. He waits until the girl has got to the stage of contributing a few remarks of her own, and then gets down to the business of the evening.

“Well, I know you are expecting me to say something else with you and your young man being here.”

He knows the your young man is important. It puts the girl’s mind at rest in a wonderful way; non-Catholics are so apt to think that the priest is out to stop the marriage, an opinion which even the Catholic partners seem to have sometimes.

“I know your future husband and naturally I would like to know his future wife well. You see, it’s my job as a priest to look after him even after he is married. So I would like you to know, not only a Catholic, but what Catholics are. It will help you to make a success of your marriage.”

“I suppose it would, but I don’t really believe that religion should make any difference. I’ve some good Catholic friends and we get on quite well, agreeing to differ.”

“But I’m sure you see the difference between getting on well with friends and getting on well with one’s husband, or you wouldn’t have made up your mind to marry Michael here rather than some other Catholic friend you get on well with.”

“I still think it’s a question of his going his way and my going mine, just as we do in other things.”

“Not quite. To a Catholic, religion isn’t just one of the other things; it’s the thing. And I wouldn’t advise marrying a Catholic who didn’t think that. I’ve said a great deal to Michael on that point, and I’m willing that he should tell you all I said. Experience proves that it isn’t wise for people of different religions to marry without each knowing something about the other’s religion.”

“Then why shouldn’t he know something about my religion?”

“I think it would be best for you to ask him that question yourself. He should know something of your religion for reasons of this kind-it would be unwise for a Catholic girl to marry a Baptist without knowing about his religion. She would be very unhappy finding out that her children had to stay unbaptised until they were grown up because her husband didn’t believe in infant baptism. So, ‘your way and my way’ won’t always work. I could give you dozens of examples, living ones, at this minute, to prove it. Do you know anything about the Catholic religion ?”

“A few things-not much.”

“I suppose Michael here hasn’t told you very much. Catholics are very sensitive about their religion. They’re aware that it seems strange to other people, and they’re so afraid of its being ridiculed that they don’t often speak about it unless they’re asked, and then say as little as possible.”

An eloquent silence here shows that the boy knows that he has been like that, and that the girl knows that she’s found him like that.

“So, it comes to this. As a priest I know that there’s a better chance of your marriage being a success if you have these explanations, and a clear danger of its being a failure if you don’t. But you can see that someone else will have to do the explaining. Your young man could never bring himself to do it. That’s true, isn’t it, Michael?”

The priest regrets this question as soon as it’s asked.

“Yes, Father, but I wouldn’t like her to become a Catholic just to please me.”

He can’t help feeling a bit mad at the way the lad has put both feet through the already thin ice, especially when he’s thrashed this point out very carefully with him. He tries to steer the girl out of the danger zone, but it’s too late-she takes the opportunity.

“I’ve no intention of changing my religion.”

“Of course you haven’t. How could you when you don’t know anything about the Catholic religion? You don’t become a Catholic just by knowing what a Catholic believes. Do you mind telling me, though, what your religion is ?”

“Oh, Protestant.”

The priest knows that this most likely means that the girl practises no religion, but he wants to be sure.

“Yes, but there are all kinds of Protestant religions, aren’t there? Which church do you go to ?”

“I’m afraid I don’t go to any just now. We seem to have got very slack in our family.”

“What church were you baptised in ?”

“The Presbyterian.”

“Well, could you tell me what the word ‘Presbyterian’ means?”

“I don’t know. I suppose it’s just the name for people who are Presbyterians.”

“Do you think you could tell me something that Presbyterians believe, that Catholics don’t believe?”

Silence.

“But you could tell me a whole lot of things which Catholics believe, which Presbyterians don’t believe, couldn’t you ? Now, because we want to talk sensibly, I’ll put it this way. Wouldn’t it be true to say that the only hold you’ve got on what you call your religion is the fact that you were baptised in it?”

“I agree there isn’t much, but I still hold that it’s my religion.”

“Well, I should want a lot of convincing before I would even advise you to change it.”

“Then I can’t see why I’m here tonight.”

“That’s easy to answer. To turn round something I said to your young man, you wouldn’t marry him without knowing what his job was, and his prospects were. Moreover, I take it you would certainly not marry him without finding out whether he led a decent life?”

“Not being quite a fool, I wouldn’t.”

“Well, you can take it from me that it’s far more important to be sure about the ‘decent life’ than about the ‘decent job.’ And that means finding out about his obligation to lead a ‘decent life.’ In fact, it’s what his religion has made of him that makes you want to marry him. Well, all I want to do is to convince you that it’s to your interest to do that finding out because you can’t otherwise encourage him to stick to what helps him to lead a good life.”

“I suppose there’s a certain amount of sense in that.”

“There’s more than a certain amount. I should also say this-you will certainly find it interesting. You won’t be asked to do what you would call ‘study.’ Your young man can come with you. You can ask all the questions you like. So, the point is-are you willing to come once a week, oftener if you like, and listen to some simple explanations?”

‘‘So long as it doesn’t mean I have to become a Catholic.”

“Now, I thought I’d answered that one. I know the idea of becoming a Catholic frightens you. It would me, if I were in your place. But you needn’t be afraid. One thing only could make you have to become a Catholic, and that would be your own conscience, but you can be quite certain that if it did happen, you wouldn’t feel frightened about it at all.”

“I don’t see it happening.”

“Perhaps not. However, as you are willing, it might be as well to fix up your first instruction right away. Would you prefer to listen to a priest, or to a nun?”

“I really can’t tell just now.”

“You see, sometimes a woman understands a woman best. Have you ever met any nuns?”

“There were some that used to come to a friend’s house to collect for the poor. I always used to give them something.”

“That means you must have spoken to them sometimes, so I think I’ll take you along and introduce you to one of the Sisters. Once you’ve made a start, you’ll know quite well that you’re not being ‘got at.’”

The priest feels that the interview has been definitely successful. The only anxiety is whether the girl will have sufficient instructions before the question of marriage comes up.

He can’t help thinking how little positive help he’s had from the Catholic boy; how little the Catholic boy realises he’s been helped and has no doubt at all in his young mind that he’s been very broad-minded in meeting the priest’s wishes.

MORAL.-If you are a Catholic wanting to marry a non-Catholic, don’t let these situations arise. The priest has only one man’s energy. If he’s using it up at this rate, doing what intelligent young Catholics should be doing for themselves, then he hasn’t got energy for other important things.

APPENDIX

WHAT TO DO BEFORE MARRIAGE

1. Notify the priest who will perform your marriage before the names are entered at the Registry Office. 2. Arrange to have your banns published on three successive Sundays in the parish, or parishes, to which you belong. In some cases, publication is required in all parishes where the partners may have lived since the man was 14+ and the girl 12+. (N.B.-For publication the present addresses and the names of both partners are to be given. A Holyday of Obligation may, if necessary, count as a Sunday. It is well to inquire if any fee is usual for publication.)

3. Proof of Baptism, and sometimes of Confirmation, will be needed. A partner not baptised in the parish where the marriage is to take place will need an up-to-date baptismal certificate from the church of Baptism. If this is to be written for, a stamped addressed envelope and a suitable offering for clerical expenses, if the parties can afford it, should be enclosed; though this is not of obligation.

4. If either partner has married before, the death certificate of the previous consort should be produced. 5. Go to the Registrar, who requires 21 clear days’ notice before the date of the marriage, and have the names put up. After consulting the priest, arrange the day, hour and place of the marriage. In Scotland it is sufficient to give the Registrar the day and the place, and to arrange the time with the priest. Since new PreNuptial forms have now to be filled in, it is well to have as much as possible of the above information already available when the priest is first notified.

6. Before marriage go to Confession. 7. Arrange to have two Catholic witnesses, best man and bridesmaid. 8. Bring the ring (and in England a silver coin). 9. Be punctual, especially if the marriage is to take place before a Mass which is normally attended by the faithful.

10. Have a Nuptial Mass at which you both receive Holy Communion on the wedding-day, otherwise, as soon as possible afterwards. If there is to be no Nuptial Mass, or if the Mass is at rather a late hour, Holy Communion could be received by both parties together at an earlier Mass.

11. Those under 21 should not marry without the consent of their parents nor against their reasonable objections.

12. The facts must be stated if there is any relationship by blood, or marriage, or any spiritual relationship such as godmother or godfather; if one or other of the parties is bound by any vow, religious or private; if one is in any sacred order; if either party has deserted his (her) religion.

13. Remember that the marriage ceremony is a Sacrament for the administration of which the priest is responsible. He should therefore be consulted upon all matters connected with it.

14. If you will have non-Catholic friends at a Nuptial Mass it is a kindness to give them beforehand a copy of the rite of the Nuptial Mass, and even some simple explanation of the ceremonies of the Mass, like What is he doing at the Altar? or At Mass, by Fr Martindale (. . . . , 6d.).

********

Between 13 And 20

BY REV. ROBERT NASH, S.J

INDEX

THESE two figures represent a critical period in one’s life. A boy or girl round about that age is often a problem and an anxiety. Parents are distressed to notice unpleasant changes. Tom used to be so candid and full of innocent fun, and, generally, did what he was told and smiled his way through. Lately he has grown sullen and obstinate. He is irritable and impatient of a word of advice or even a suggestion of correction. . He flares up in temper and says harsh and caustic things to mother and father which pain and humiliate them. What is coming over him at all?

Or it’s Mary, who, like Tom, is moving up along in teenage. Clearly she knows better than parents every time, and she makes no effort to disguise the fact that she regards them as outdated and outmoded. Sometimes she assumes an attitude of tolerant condescension, sometimes the pose of an unappreciated martyr who makes magnanimous allowance for those who cannot be expected to understand modern youth and its problems. Why then don’t they learn to keep their meddlesome fingers out of youth’s pie?

Let father or mother or teacher try to assert their authority and the most they can hope for by way of response is a mere external compliance. When they are out of earshot their words are parodied and ridiculed and, so far as leading to a practical way of acting is concerned, completely ignored. Perhaps a girl will stand and listen in stony silence; perhaps she will register her protest against the tyranny by disappearing and running away.

We are well aware that such disagreeable traits do not show up in every case, possibly not in the majority of cases. Still they are sufficiently common to justify a generalisation. There is the modern boy or girl mentality all out to win a reputation for contempt of law and order and complete disregard of convention. This is the age when a young person gets “fed-up” with religion. Prayer is either dropped altogether as being suited only for kids or ancients, or at best it degenerates into a boring meaningless dry -as-dust formula. Sacraments are insipid and Mass ceases to have any value or significance. It can easily be omitted, especially if the young person goes to live in an alien or hostile atmosphere. Confession on a very occasional Saturday night, late, and to the priest who has fewest penitents, is an ordeal submitted to just in order to avoid a row at home.

A word of warning is here called for. This booklet is far indeed from being an attack on our young people. Of such attacks there are enough and to spare. In these first few paragraphs we are merely trying to set out a picture of a type of young person that is common today. We attach no word of blame, and till now we have suggested no remedy or course to follow. We are describing certain traits which we have observed, and we think everyone, young people themselves included, should be able to recognise the pattern.

The boy we have in mind wants to be a “hell” of a fellow. The girl is the plaything of her imagination. She feeds on thrills and seems incapable of concentratingon any serious subject. So it’s rock and roll and jive. It is the unending blare of radio, yelling in the street at any hour of day or night, the later the better. It’s deafening sounds in dance-hall, sounds devoid of melody or musical content, and often enough calculated to stir up in the heart feelings and desires which may pave the road to evil.

Who cares? This is life! Let’s enjoy it! We’re going to be young only once, so give us freedom, the lawless, irresponsible, dare-devil freedom of the jungle! This is the new gospel, broadcast on radio, screaming in the headlines, taken for granted in TV and in the movies, picked up by youngsters from conver sations heard and from slimy literature read with avidity, learned from conduct observed in those knowing persons who have discovered how to have a good time, and are willing enough to initiate the ignorant.

Between 13 and 20 youth is on the threshold of a new life. It begins to travel in a land of mystery. This is a region hitherto unexplored, the very existence of which was not even suspected till now. What more natural for youth’s adventurous spirit than to find out all about it, to taste every new experience that offers, and to boast loudly of its superior knowledge to kids a year or two younger who have no t yet grown up ? This is a transition period during which God gives new powers, sacred powers imparted for a sacred and holy purpose.

These powers may not be tampered with. They may not be used, except in accordance with the Law of the God who gives them. No-one may presume to anticipate the time when their use becomes holy and beautiful and sanctifying-in marriage. But youth chafes at the delay. Anybody who is anyone seems to find that this delay is intolerable. Strong tendencies, unknown till now, begin to assert themselves. There is a new interest in persons of the opposite sex. What is all this about? What can be wrong in wanting to have this natural curiosity satisfied, once and for all?

HOODWINKED

Our heart goes out in affection and sympathy to the young person in this critical position. He or she is often sorely perplexed and quite at a loss to know where to turn for guid ance. The easiest way out seems to be to follow the crowd, to keep one’s eyes wide open and one’s ears alert, and learn all about it and then decide for oneself. Many a boy or girl, as a result of this fatal decision, deep down in the heart is lonely, and bewildered, and mystified. They do not know how to solve their problem; possibly they do not understand even how to put their problem into words. What they do know is that the problem exists and that nobody seems to be interested in helping them to find the answer.

The bad manners we complain of, the shyness or slyness which creates a gulf between them and us, the fantastic attire and the affectation of a boisterous superiority, the open defiance and the seemingly heartless jibe-all these, in many cases, are a smoke-screen, a camouflage. These young people are in sore need of direction. They do not understand themselves and they grow indignant and intolerant, pretending to a know-ledge they do not possess, too big to ask questions, or, more commonly, able to find no place to learn except the garbage bin.

A mongrel, always hungry, walked down the street in front of me this morning. He stopped at every rubbish heap, pawing and smelling. The comparison is not flattering, but I think it is fair. He reminds me of the poor boy or girl who seeks for knowledge of their problems and the answers from foul conversations, from novels and papers that reek with sex and sensationalism, from lewd jokes and objectionable pictures and cartoons. These are the evil-smelling garbage bins and they are filled to overflowing in all conscience.

It must surely be clear from all this, that on parents devolves a most important duty, to impart to their children, in the best manner and at the most suitable time, correct and adequate sex instruction. Far too many parents, excellent in all other respects, fall down here on the plea that they do not know how to give thisinstruction, that their children are “all right,” “still innocent,” and can find out for themselves according as they grow up.

Their reluctance to tackle this problem with their child is, possibly, intelligible, but it is certainly inexcusable. The late Holy Father insists in more than one place that if young people are not reverently and fully instructed by proper authorities-parents or priests or Catholic teachers-they will find out for themselves, and with the gravest risk to their virtue. Two thousandAmerican boys were questioned as to how they learned “the facts of life.” It was found that when they were instructed by parents or such persons, the effect was excellent in 94 per cent of the cases, and where the knowledge was acquired “by themselves” it led to disaster in 75 per cent of the cases investigated.

No Catholic parent can presume to shirk this duty, more especially in view of the wholesale publicity of sex on every side of us. There is plenty of helpful literature. Before me as I write lies a pamphlet by Father Pickering entitled: “Sex Instruction in the Home.” It is published by the English. . . . Society. Mercier Press, Cork, has “Sex and Innocence,” and Father Lord, S.J., has treated this delicate question in several of his books and pamphlets-most fully in his “Practical Notes for the Guidance of Parents.” There is also “The Catechism Key,” published by Gill, 50 Upper O”Connell Street, Dublin.

A little boy of seven was helping with the hay-making. The man with whom he worked chatted as they moved along together, and they discussed football and fishing and swimming. Suddenly, like a bolt from the blue, the youngster began to describe all the fun he used to have with little girls his own age. The man, a good Catholic, was alarmed and some time afterwards made it his business to say a word of gentle warning to the mother of the boy. He failed to convince her, though he rightly considered the evidence was overwhelming.

“I think mothers are very foolish who allow their little girls to ramble off in the fields and lonely places with little boys, on the plea that they are innocent. If a habit of this sort is not dealt with in time, it can lead to disaster and then advice and instruction will come too late.”

TOO BIG FOR US

The world our young people are facing assumes that the sex instinct is irresistible. It is so violent and persistent as to be beyond our control. Hence the only solution, the obvious one, is surrender. Nobody stands up successfully to this thing, and don’t you expect you are going to be different. It is too big for us and, unless you want to drag out an existence of unending strain and tension, you had better fall into line with the rest of us and give up this pretence. All young people must sow their wild oats.

Boy meets girl in the movie. You are expected to take for granted that, as soon as they begin to get interested in each other, they will automatically, as a matter of course, proceed to indulge in passionate love-making. They cannot help it! The impulse is too strong and nothing can hold it in check. The same lie is stuffed down your throat in the evil papers and books that abound, in the conversations of bad companions if you have the misfortune to associate with them. On all sides the doctrine is the same-make up your mind that this urge is so strong that it is quite impossible to control. So forget about your “guilt complex” and forge ahead.

Who can estimate the amount of vice for which this lying pernicious propaganda is responsible? Where shall we find words to convince you that it is foisted on the human race by the father of lies? With full cognisance of the peculiar difficulties of our modern way of life, recognising fully the presence of dangers and occasions of sin to which another generation was a stranger, we assert emphatically that there is no boy or girl of good will who should doubt or question for a moment the truth that perfect observance of the Sixth Commandment is possible today.

If pessimists shake their wise heads and deplore the waywardness of modern youth, it might be well worth their while to give some sympathetic consideration to our young people’s difficulties. It is hard to live in an infected area and not catch disease and young growing-ups today breathe, for the most part, an atmosphere little conducive to a life of vigorous Catholicism. Old standards have been removed; old landmarks have disappeared; there is a greater spirit of independence, more freedom in relations between boys and girls, less supervision. It is only fair to remember that they come into this environment, which they did nothing to create, and that therefore God will not fail to give them the grace they need to grapple with their own particular problems.

YOUTH IS STRONG

God does not fail to give. Many, very many, of our young people, do not fail to accept and use His gift of grace. They grow up into Catholics of whom Christ’s Church is proud, on whom He can depend, to whom He can turn with assurance and invite them to labour with Him for the salvation and sanctification of souls. Admittedly there is the dismal side. But there is authority, not less than that of the Vicar of Christ, for saying that many young people are more sinned against than sinning. It would be disastrous to fasten one’s gaze on the side of the hedge where darkness and gloom abound, and forget the glorious rays of sunshine on the other side.

A young man came to Our Lord one day, “and Jesus, looking upon him, loved him.” Why? Because of the magnificent grit in him, which, with the never-failing support of divine grace, had brought him unscathed through the fierce fires of temptations so often experienced in the adolescent period. “I write to you, young men,” says St. John, “because you are strong and have overcome the wicked one.”

Many a young man and young woman will read this and their conscience will bear them testimony that it is true. Treat with contempt the lie that the world whispers in your ear when it tells you purity is impossible. That is a personal insult. Many a splendid young person is living a pure life in face of evil example-in his own home, perhaps, or from fellowworkers or even boys with whom he plays games. He has to listen to filthy language in the factory where he works, but no-one ever heard a sinful expression from his own lips. Personal difficulties and struggles bring home to him the truth that he has plenty of red blood in his veins, but he glories in the fight and in the victory and he realises gratefully that each victory makes the next round easier to win.

The present community in the Cistercian Monastery in Kentucky numbers nearly three hundred. The life is austere; there is perpetual silence, much fasting, penance, and laborious toil. There is continuous prayer; the monks” day of prayer begins at 2 A.M. There is an ever-increasing demand for admission from young men aspiring to this hard way, impelled by the motive of love of Christ and Mary. In the past ten years there have been five new foundations from this one-all of them are flourishing, all of them have large fervent communities.

This single fact alone is more indicative of the character of modern youth than the boorishness and boisterousness of teddy-boys and teddy-girls who have not yet learned how to behave as grown-ups. It is also a devastating argument to fling in the face of a lying world which sniggers at chastity and mouths the falsehood that purity is impossible or only for prudes.

ANOTHER LIE

The other lie is this-that Religion has nothing to contribute to your problem. You may have heard a lot of fine talk about prayer and sacraments and devotions, all guaranteed to help you to stand up to temptation and win through. Don’t you believe it. It just doesn’t work. Your problem is in outer space and the Church and Religion are notoriously conservative, doggedly pursuing the beaten track.

I wonder. One thinks back again to that army of noble young men in Cistercian abbeys, and, indeed, in every Religious Order and seminary. This profession calls for the perfect and perpetual observance of chastity, and the aspirant binds himself to this observance by a vow. How is it done? By his own grit and will-power? He himself would be the first to deny it. Priests and Religious are able to keep this sacred and difficult obligation because they depend on divine grace and on the means of growing in grace, or recovering it if lost, because, in a word, the Church and Religion have, very definitely, the answer to youth’s problem.

You’ve read about St. Maria Goretti, canonised at the age of twelve by the late Holy Father Pius XII? She was attacked, and several times, by a man who had evil designs on her virtue. He tried intrigue, he gave fair promises, he appealed to her womanly sense of sympathy-he tried all the tricks in the pack, and all to no use. The child of twelve withstood whatever he could do by way of temptation. Finally his impure love turned to hatred. He attacked the little girl with a knife and gashed her innocent body till she died. Don’t you think the “Church and Religion” had something to do with this indomitable power of resistance in a child of twelve?

There is also St. Dominic Savio, who, like St. Maria Goretti, was raised to the altars by Pope Pius XII. He was only fifteen when he died. He was noted for his love of the Blessed Eucharist and of Our Lady. From this love there flowed a hatred of sin and a manliness in resisting it. His motto was: “Death rather than sin.” He never lost his Baptismal innocence, but do not imagine that this just happened. He had to prove himself every inch a man. He was acutely conscious that his hold on his purity was tenuous indeed, so he rolled up his sleeves and prepared for a strenuous fight.

In winter he would throw off the extra blankets “because the Crib was cold and on the Cross Jesus had but scant cover- ing.” People had to keep a vigilant eye on Dominic, a delicate boy, to make sure he ate enough. If he did not practise control of his desire for food and drink, maybe, he argued, he would weaken, too, in his resistance to the allurements to vice. Is it extravagant to suggest that, in Dominic’s case also, the “Church and Religion” had something, much even, to help in solving his problem?

The plain fact is that while without Christ and His grace we can do, literally, nothing, it is none the less true-as St. Paul assures us-that in Christ who strengthens us we can do all things. To His Church our divine Lord has entrusted His seven sacraments, inexhaustible sources of His grace. These He has instituted in order to communicate His grace, to restore it if lost, to foster its growth, to provide for the varying changes and trials which we encounter along the road of life.

You never yet met a person who persevered in faithful and worthy use of the means of grace afforded by the Church who did not succeed, perhaps after many difficult battles, in learning how to control his passions.

One remembers the verdict of Father O”Flanagan of Boys-town that no boy is hopeless. No girl is hopeless either. In every single case, however unpromising it seems, you can be certain there lurks a deep fund of goodness which perhaps has never been tapped. It would be easy to set down several instances of young persons who, at first apparently incorrigible, under the tactful handling of someone who obviously and sincerely loved them, were gradually and permanently transformed. “It is only what we love that we long to see perfect; what we dislike can go to the dickens by any road it wishes.” The secret of success with young people-indeed with any people, is to love them, or, perhaps more correctly, to love Christ in them.

DANCING

Young people need relaxation and amusement, and dancing supplies the need. If there were no dance-halls many of these young people would sit by the hour in a public-house, soaking themselves in excessive drinking. It is surely much better for them to have the exercise and the laughter and the thrill of the dance. Dancing develops the social life and leads to happy Catholic marriages. Priests often run dances and that fact alone seems to justify us in believing that dances have the approval of the Church. We might even cite the fact that King David danced before the Ark of God, and that expert dancers exhibit their art in some Spanish churches.

These are some of the arguments advanced by the “fans” in favour of dancing. There is much to support them and we may return to them later. But, for the moment, we would like to make, further, a fair statement of what is to be said on the other side. Our view must not be lop-sided.

A visitor called to see a friend of his, a T.B. patient in hospital. The sick man, aged twenty, admitted that it was through his own fault he had caught the disease. After coming out from the dance-hall, perspiring and overheated, he used to loiter along the road on the way home, in the cold of the small hours of the morning. The inevitable happened. In the same ward, in the next three beds, were three other young men, all with exactly the same story to tell.

Nature itself dictates that night is the time for rest. The birds seek their nests and the animals lie still in the fields and fall asleep. But boys and girls who frequent dance-halls and regularly arrive home jaded and over-excited at two or three in the morning-or later-how can they imagine that nature will not take from them its toll? Things have reached such a pass, indeed, that there are those silly enough to make it a boast that they were out all night. Recently a young girl proudly declared: “We left the dance-hall at two, and it was nearly five before we got in home!” Applause, please, somebody.

If the writer of these pages was never a priest, it seems to him he could bring up many unanswerable arguments against dances of this sort, merely on grounds of reason and common sense. No one has any quarrel with properly controlled dances, enjoyed in moderation, and finishing up at a sensible hour. But what person, unless he goes around our land with his eyes blindfold and his ears stopped, can flatter himself with the delusion that these are the dances demanded by the majority and catered for by the organisers?

It must be clear that anyone between 13 and 20, faced with the problem we have already discussed earlier, must have a definite policy to follow in this question of dancing. Too many girls, for instance, are either ignorant or innocent, or both, and are sadly unconscious of the harmthey may do to their partner by “close dancing.” It is very hard for him to resist; the girl is always the one who is to control the situation.

The weighty words of our Irish Bishops, spoken over thirty years ago, have lost none of their force today. “We know too well the fruit of these halls all over the country . . . more especially in the general lack of control during recent years

[These halls] have deplorably aggravated the ruin of virtue . . . The occasions of sin, and sin itself, are the attendants of night dances in particular . . . To say nothing of the special danger of drink, imported dances of an evil kind, the surroundings of the dance-hall, withdrawal from the hall for intervals, and the dark ways home, have been the destruction of virtue in every part of Ireland.”

We have no intention of exaggerating; we want, merely, to get the picture in correct focus. It cannot be denied that the objectionable type of dance, condemned by the Bishops, is nothing else except a gateway leading to grave sin and imminent danger of theloss of one’s soul. It should not be necessary to elaborate with details, or to quote the testimony of eye-witnesses who were sickened at certain dances by an orgy of drunkenness. What man or woman with even the most scanty knowledge of the power of human passion can believe that young people, returning home after moving for hours in an atmosphere charged with suggestion and temptation, will avoid sinning? How can they possibly withstand the onslaught of the attack they are sure to encounter when they find themselves, boy and girl alone, seated together in a parked car or walking along dark unfrequented roads?

OUR WOUNDED NATURE

There is no defence, no sound argument by which to prove that we are not here face to face with an occasion of grave sin. Young people may resent being told this, they may charge us with being tyrannical, unreasonable, puritanical or victorian. All right. But when all is said and done human nature is wounded as a result of sin; we are sick and convalescing, and we cannot afford to take risks. To say that these young people, if they did not have dances and the walk home afterwards would take to drink is no argument. As well might you advise that a man determined to slit his throat with a razor should be given a loaded revolver instead.

The Church is no kill-joy and she does not forbid dancing indiscriminately. But, to quote Father Davis, a recognised moral theologian: “If, by its very nature and form [dancing] incites to sins of sensuality . . . it must be avoided under pain of sin.Even in cases of harmless forms of dancing, if the company is bad, there is the same obligation of avoiding them.”

A priest explained all this to his people from the pulpit. He pointed out, in lucid language, free of any suspicion of exaggeration, that to run a dance-hall of this sort placed a fearful responsibility on the conscience of the persons owning and letting out such a hall for such a purpose. He explained, in carefully measured words, the sheer folly of making money at the cost of providing for many people a free proximate occasion of mortal sin. He reminded his hearers of our Lord’s terrifying warning:

“Woe to the scandal-giver . . . It were better for him that that man had not been born . . . better that a millstone were tied about his neck and he buried in the depths of the sea.” And scandal means alluring one’s neighbour into sin, conniving at his sin, encouraging him, providing the occasion for his sin.

With such forcefulness did that priest speak, with such limpid clarity and with such evident anxiety for the eternal salvation of the souls of his hearers, that the owner of such a dance-hall, after the sermon, called round to the sacristy and handed the key to the preacher.

It is only by drowning the voice of conscience that specious reasons are listened to by means of which to justify, or seek to justify, what the Bishops describe as “the sport of the evil spirit for those who have no true self-respect.” The man who gave up that key realised his folly because his dormant conscience was thoroughly aroused. Assuredly it is in no spirit of recrimination that this subject is discussed in these pages. They are written with one only object in view-to set all of us whom it concerns examining our conscience seriously.

A good friend of mine, a priest, is always impressing on young people-whom he loves greatly-that the particular purpose of the Sacrament of Confirmation is to give grace to overcome temptations. Doesn’t it seem reasonable? You have become His living temple. He has entered into your soul with His Seven Gifts. One of these is fortitude, that manly courage with which He sustains you in the fight and leads you on to victory. “I write to you, young men,” to quote St. John once more, “because you are strong and the Word of God abides in you, and you have overcome the wicked one.” And again: “Greater is He that is in you, and you have overcome the wicked one.” And again: “Greater is He that is in you, than he that is in the world.” In the world is Satan, and his minions. In you is the Holy Spirit of God whom you have received in Confirmation. On that day you were made a soldier of Jesus Christ, and the Spirit of God equipped you fully to meet every obstacle, every enemy, and to win right through.

The boy or girl who recognises the soul as a living tabernacle is filled with a sense of deepest reverence-for self and for others. Youth’s problems are solved, not by flinging oneself into the noise and tumult and casting aside all restraint, not by the easy way out which decides that passion is irresistible. The solution is nearer home, right in the very centre of the immortal soul, radiant with the beauty of sanctifying grace, sharing in God’s very life, destined to see Him face to face, to be borne onwards towards Him on a wave of mighty love, to possess Him, to hold Him fast and never let Him go.

In the realisation of these magnificent truths new strength is found, new courage is generated, a vivid understanding in the light of which a boy or girl sees how completely beneath contempt the counterfeit is when contrasted with the reality. This realisation is a new arm, invincible to strike and to smite and to fill with confusion an enemy whose principal argument is lying or empty boasting or vain promises and assurances. Seek for the remedy from within, not from without.

Young people flock into places like the Cistercian Monastery in Kentucky because they have wakened up to realise that, in comparison with God, whatever the world and passion can promise and even guarantee to give, is shoddy. Esau sold his birthright for a mess of pottage. It was a fool’s bargain. He found that out, but only when it was too late. You, thank God, are in time still.

What is that birthright of yours? Our Lord Himself assures you that “eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither hath it entered into the heart of man, to conceive what things God hath prepared for those who love Him.” Some of the implications of this magnificent text we shall try to indicate by reminding you of life’s story, from here, into eternity, and beyond.

YOUR THREE BIRTHDAYS

Your first birthday was the moment you entered into this world. You had received from your parents the gift of natural life. You were now strong enough to emerge from your mother’s womb. You were capable of living on your own, though you still needed imperatively the assiduous care of others to keep the feeble flicker of life aflame.

Through no fault of your own you came into the world seriously handicapped. Your soul was in sin. Adam and Eve, our First Parents, had sinned, and all their children, except alone the Blessed Mother of God, were conceived and born “children of wrath.”

It is worth while pausing and trying to recognise that in this there is no injustice done, either to Adam and Eve, or to ourselves. What happened to our First Parents when they sinned was that they lost sanctifying grace. This is an entirely free gift of God. They had no sort of claim on it. Adam was fully a man, with all the qualities demanded for complete manhood-without grace. Eve was fully a woman, possessed of every power and faculty required for complete womanhood-without grace. You can have a human being, equipped with everything needed for human nature-without grace. Grace is something added on to human nature, something over and above, raising it wondrously, as we shall presently see, far and away above the condition native to it.

God granted this gift to Adam, therefore, not because it was due to him, in any way, as part of his equipment as a human being, but simply and solely because He loved him. Since it was given thus entirely gratuitously, there surely can be no difficulty in seeing that no injustice was done when it was taken away again. The withdrawal of it was part of the punishment deserved because of sin.

No injustice, then, was done to them. Neither was any done to us, their children. For Adam was the head of the human race, and grace was given to him, not merely as an individual, but as the parent from whom the race was to descend. When he culpably lost it by sin, grace was cut off at the source of our human nature. We were deprived of it, necessarily, by the very fact that the head of the race had lost it.

But the gift was restored to us, and again the only explanation is the immense love and mercy of God for His creatures. Without grace we are merely His creatures; when grace is in our souls we are His children, sharing in a real way, in the very life of our heavenly Father. Christ is His Son by nature: we by adoption.

Jesus Christ is God, and, on entering into this world, He became the second Head of the human race. By His obedience and death, He atoned for our disobedience-the disobedience of the race, and of Adam, its first head. Henceforth, grace will once more be communicated to us, and this communication is brought about by contact with Him, the source and Fountainhead of this divine gift. “I am come,” He says, “ that they may have life and may have it more abundantly.” He is the Vine and we the branches. Just as the sap flows from the vine into the branch and makes it a living thing, so grace flows from Christ into us and communicates a real share in His divine life.

Your second birthday, therefore, was the moment when contact was established between Him and you. This contact was made at your Baptism. Our Lord assures you, as He assured Nicodemus, that you are “born again.” “God so loved the world as to give His onlybegotten Son.” Through the Son, equal in all things to His heavenly Father, grace has been brought back again into the world. In Baptism He shares it with us. We are now no longer mere creatures of God. We have received a completely new status. We live on a new level. We share in the life of God, our Father and His Father, and, as such we are, in a most true and real sense, sons and daughters of God.

As sons and daughters we have a new heritage; we are destined to enter with Christ, our Elder Brother, into the Kingdom, This is assured to us, on the one condition that our soul is still living with the life of grace at the moment we leave this world. We pass naturally from grace to glory. Glory is simply the development of grace, as the flower is the development of the seed, as the blazing noon-day sun is the development of the first streaks of light in the eastern sky.

THE SECOND BIRTHDAY

Baptism is thus epoch-making in the history of a soul. You are launched on an era of a new life elevated as much, and far far more, above the natural life given you by your parents, as an animal would be if he received the gift of intelligent speech. Through grace you acquire the power to be able to gaze on the infinite Beauty of God, and to endure such splendour without being overcome by the sight. “No man shall see God and live.” You can look and see and drink deep draughts into your thirsting soul, and do all this throughout eternity, because you are not a mere man. You have been “divinised” by grace on the glorious occasion of your second birthday.

It is a pity not to reflect much more on these marvels. It is our firm conviction that if they became in your way of life the realities they ought to be, you would turn away in disgust, and as it were instinctively, from the cheap and the shoddy upon which too many of us lavish affection and attention. Incidentally I am trying to show you what a magnificent thing it is to be a Catholic. You surely see that it is immeasurably more than giving a mere subservient obedience to a code of regulations.

Of course this new life can be lost. This misfortune is brought about by mortal sin, by a disobedience to God in a grave matter. When a person disobeys thus what he says is, in so many words: “I clearly recognise that I cannot hold, at one and the same time, God’s gift of divine life and all the marvels that flow from it and the pleasure I hope to get from sinning. All right. My mind is made up. Like Esau I”m quite willing to sell my birth-right for a mess of pottage. Who cares? Certainly not I! “Can’t you see the black ingratitude of sin, the insolence, the madness, of strangling the true life of the soul, of thwarting God’s plan, of perpetrating spiritual suicide? When sin is seen in its true colour we can no longer wonder that it brings shame and misery to the sinner.

“Know and understand that it is an evil and a bitter thing for thee to have left the Lord, thy God.”

Suppose a corpse is washed up on the shore after a ship-wreck. It is a dead body. What can it do, of itself, to recover the life it has lost? Just nothing. If it is ever to live again life must be restored by a miracle. God Himself must intervene. Now that corpse serves well to illustrate the condition of a soul in mortal sin. It is absolutely helpless. There is nothing whatever it can do, of itself, to get back the treasure it has so senselessly bartered away. But surely it can repent? Surely we are always taught that God will forgive a truly repentant sinner and restore it fully to His love and grace?

Of course this is correct. There is no sin which God, in the excess of His love, is not prepared to forgive. It would be easy to run off a long list of names of saints who once were steeped in vice-Augustine, Margaret of Cortona, possibly Gabriel of the Seven Sorrows, and a host of others. But, be it well observed, all these repented only because God’s grace gave them the first impulse towards repentance. He had to intervene, just as He would have to intervene to restore the life of that dead body. The sinner is helpless, entirely incapable of having even the desire to repent, unless God inspired that desire and continued to sustain the soul all along the rest of the route. “Without Me, you can do nothing.” This sentence is true, in its most literal and absolute sense.

From this it follows that a whole lifetime, an eternity, will not be long enough in which to realise the immensity of our indebtedness to Jesus Christ. Suppose your newly-born brother or sister, or when you are married yourself, your first-born child lies hovering between life and death. Suppose that through the skill of the doctor the little infant begins to respond favourably to treatment, improves steadily each day, and at the end of two months is pronounced completely out of danger. Suppose, further, that the child had actually died, and that to some saintly person God granted the power to restore its life. The event is hailed as a miracle, and you vow that to your dying day you will never forget your debt of gratitude.

And yet this occurrence, even a miraculous cure, is almost negligible compared with the work done by Jesus Christ in a soul dead in sin. Only a divine Physician could do it, and He has gladly put at the disposal of His patient all the accumulation of His graces, to awaken, at one time sorrow, at another shame, at another remorse, at another fear, at another love. And, having once aroused his dormant conscience the Physician sustains and encourages the patient during the difficult operation that may have to be performed. He assures him or her of its success, and His assurance cannot fail.

What degree of divine life is restored when the sinner repents? How much grace is given to him? Does he have to begin all over again, as on the day he was baptised, and develop gradually and painfully from spiritual infancy? No. The life of grace in his soul recommences from that point to which it had arrived before his mortal sin. Till that sin he was like a man with a valuable cargo on board, heading directly for the harbour and home. With that mortal sin everything was lost. It was just as if the boat had capsized and all that precious treasure buried in the depths of the sea.

But when he sincerely repents? What then happens may be compared with what would happen if, after the shipwreck, somebody managed to dive to the depths and recover all that had been lost and place it once more, securely, on board. Indeed, many theologians consider that when a sinner truly repents, he receives back even more grace than he had before his sin. The act of sorrow, they think, and the humility of his confession, merit for him more than he had when he sinned.

BIRTHDAY AHEAD

In the movies death is curtains. It is regarded as the end of all that is worth living for. It is met by the friends of the deceased in a stony silence or with wild and extravagant indications of uncontrolled grief. I recall, off-hand, two deaths in “Gone with the Wind.” In both there was mute agony. Those bereaved clearly considered death as a cruel unmitigated misfortune. Not a suggestion, even from those who were supposed to be devout Catholics, that it might be a blessing, that they should kneel and commend to God the soul of the person they loved.

All such reactions were ruled out and death was faced with grim despair, a misfortune which could not be escaped. It had caught up with its victim and strangled him mercilessly.

The “Martyrology” is a bulky volume containing brief official accounts of the principal saints commemorated each day in the Church. Very often it describes the day of the saint’s death as his or her “birthday!” How reasonable this is, and how beautiful, when you sit back and begin to think about it. Turn to your missal and look at the Preface of the Mass for the Dead. There you find an attitude leagues removed from the despair and the horror and the terror so common in Hollywood.

Maybe you have not your missal near you just now, or perhaps you might not remember to look up the passage, so please allow me to set it down here”In Him [Christ Our Lord] there has dawned for us the hope of a blessed resurrection, and those of us who feel saddened by the fact that death is certain are heartened too, by the promise of an immortality to come. The life of those who remain faithful to Thee, Lord, is only changed by death, not finished; and when their earthly dwelling-place falls apart, an everlasting mansion stands ready waiting for them in heaven.”

For far too many death is a sort of ghost that is all the time pursuing us from behind. We spend our days staring straight ahead and doing our best to forget that he is there. But suppose death is not the end but the beginning? Suppose it is the entry into your birthday, the third and the last and the most wonderful of all the three? Suppose you have long habituated yourself to the thought of death, that you have come to think of it as simply the gate through which you must pass on your way home?

This present life is then clearly recognised for what exactly it is-a mere waiting-room where you spend a short while, every moment expecting the door to open and summon you into the Presence. It is like a railway-platform where you stand for a brief period till the train pulls into the station. When it appears you can scarcely have the patience needed in getting aboard. You step on delightedly because you well know that the next station is going to be Eternity and God and Home.

A nun once told me about her sister who had a lingering and very painful death. This poor woman lay completely helpless in bed for months, struck down with acute spinal trouble. Presently she developed a horrible ulcer. She went under a difficult operation after which she lived for some weeks, prostrate with weakness and pain. Death finally arrived to release her. She bore all this with a smile and solemnly assured her sympathising friends that it was not nearly as bad as they seemed to think. Indeed, she added, with light shining in her eyes, she never in her life had experience of such deep happiness and unruffled peace of soul.

Here is a passage from the Life of St. John of the Cross: “Brother Albert of the Virgin, porter of the convent, was at the point of death. His countenance was aflame and it shone with a celestial light which made it so marvellously beautiful that all were enraptured . . . Suddenly, he called out: “Ah, I have seen it. I have seen it,” and immediately lowered his arms and crossed them over his breast. As he was about to close his eyes our venerable Father John of the Cross hastened to ask him this question: “Brother Albert, what have you just seen? Tell me.” And he answered “Love,” and remained in ecstasy tillhe died.”

For a soul like St. Paul, enamoured of Jesus Christ and consumed with a longing to see Him and possess Him, this life is made endurable by one consideration only. It holds the one and only chance we shall ever have of co-operating with Christ in the divine work of saving and sanctifying souls. Soon that one chance falls for ever out of our hands. While it lasts, it makes the exile from home more bearable.

Each new day brings the third birthday closer. Each night there is the eager expectancy that before another dawn the soul may find Him who is the soul’s ceaseless quest. The ear is always alert listening for the first sound of His footstep. The heart thrills with joy as often as it recalls that, at any moment, He may be here!

FATHER DOHERTY

Those of us who were privileged to be near to the late Father Doherty in his last illness will long remember his attitude of eager expectancy. The deep spirit of faith which characterised his whole life reached its climax as the end approached. To visit him and pray with him was a spiritual tonic, as helpful as a retreat. He was radiantly happy at the thought of the third birthday which he knew was just around the corner. He assured us he would not change places with anyone in this world. Told about a doctor who had some remarkable successes with cancer patients, he commented, with a twinkle of the eye: “Thank God he didn’t try his treatment on me!”

He was the edification of nurses and doctors, who declared he was dying like a saint. Nor did his sense of humour ever forsake him. When his aged mother dragged herself in to visit him, he twitted her: “Mother dear, what are you fretting about? Sure you’ll probably be on the next old bus yourself anyhow, and all I”m doing is going on ahead to hold the gate open for you!” Broken-hearted though she was at the prospect of losing him and still crushed with sorrow for the death of her husband only a month earlier, she smiled, and came away, like everyone else, filled with happiness and consolation.

The secret of a happy death is detachment.”We have not here a lasting city but seek one that is to come.” The mind that habitually feeds on that truth is not afraid when the soul is called to enter into a new life. In Eternity there is no past. In Eternity there is no future. In Eternity there is present only. The celebrations for the third birthday go on always and it is impossible that they ever should pall.

Nihil Obstat:

Jeremias Hayes, S.J.

Censor Theol. Dep.

Imprimi Potest:

@ Joannes Carolus,

Archiepiscopus Dublinensis, Hiberniae Primas, Die 31 Decembris, 1958

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Bishop Richard Challoner

E.E. REYNOLDS

INDEX

Richard Challoner was born on 29 September 1691 at Lewes. Both his parents were of Sussex origin. His father, a wine-cooper, was a dissenter, as was his wife, whose maiden name was Grace Willard. Her husband died during their son’s boyhood; he was their only child. Grace Challoner had to find employment, and her first engagement was at Fide, a few miles from Lewes. This was the house of the Gage family, who had remained faithful Catholics since the days of Henry VI when they became possessed of the manor. They were staunch loyalists and, in the Civil War, Sir Henry Gage had fallen in battle. His half-brother, Dr Francis Gage, became President of the English College at Douai in 1677. Grace Challoner and her son did not stay long at Fide, for by 1704 they were at Warkworth Manor, near Banbury, where she became housekeeper. Lady Anastasia Holman was a widow; she was the daughter of Bl. William Howard, Viscount Stafford, the grandson of St Philip Howard.

It is not known when mother and son were converted. Before Richard could be consecrated bishop in 1741, it was necessary to obtain a dispensation, as he had been brought up a Protestant. The record states that he was ‘about thirteen years old’ at the time of his conversion. This suggests 1704, while he and his mother were at Warkworth. The exact year is not known, but the human agent is known; he was the notable apologist John Gother, who was chaplain at Warkworth. His spiritual works were collected in sixteen volumes. Richard Challoner early showed a desire for the priesthood and John Gother arranged for him to go to Douay, where his entry is dated 29 July 1705. ‘The said Rich. Challoner is recommended by the late Mr Gother and the Lady Anastasia Holman, and put on one of Bl. Leyburn’s funds.’ John Gother had died at sea on his way to take up the presidency of the English College, Lisbon, where he himself had been trained.

As was customary, the boy’s true name was not used at Douay; this was a survival of the dangers of the names being sent to the English Government by informers; so Richard Challoner, by adopting his mother’s maiden name, became Richard Willard. Catholic parents were still liable to fines if they sent their children abroad for their education.

DOUAY

The famous College had given a hundred and sixty martyrs for the Faith; it was a great tradition of which all the students were proud. The President, when Challoner went there, was Dr Edward Paston, an austere priest who had governed the College for sixteen years. The course of training was divided into two stages. For five years the boys followed the normal school studies of the period; those who had no vocation for the priesthood then left to take up work in civil life. The others had a further six years of study, the first two being devoted to philosophy and the last four to theology. His tutors soon found that Richard Challoner was a boy of exceptional intellectual abilities, and he was so far advanced when he arrived that he was excused two of the school years. As a ‘Philosopher’ he took the College oath in November 1708.

The town of Douai became a victim of the war then raging and for two months was under siege until its surrender in June 1710. During this period Dr Paston evacuated the students to Lille. The Dutch remained in control, and allowed the College to resume its work. Two years later the French successfully took the offensive and this time the students went to Arras; Douai was recaptured in the summer of 1712, and has remained part of France. The students probably enjoyed these alarums and excursions.

We need not here follow Richard Challoner’s scholastic career in detail. As soon as he was qualified he became one of the teaching staff and later prefect of studies. Dr Paston died in 1714 and was succeeded by Dr Robert Witham, with whom Challoner formed a close friendship. The Jacobite rising of 1715 raised great hopes at the College and many relatives of the students were involved. Richard Challoner was ordained priest in March 1716 and said his first Mass that Easter Sunday. He was absent in England in 1718 for two months on ‘private affairs’ and met his mother for the first time after thirteen years. He took his B.D. at the university in 1719, and in the following year became VicePresident of the College. For ten years he followed a placid, academic life, the only event being that he took his D.D. in 1727. During his Douay years, Challoner wrote one small book with the attractive title Think Well On’t; this gave meditations for every day of a month. It was published in 1728 and proved so helpful that it was frequently reprinted for more than a hundred years. The book already showed the characteristics of Challoner’s writing- absolute clarity of expression but without any rhetorical refinements; plain, straightforward English that the ordinary reader could follow with ease.

ON THE MISSION

It was not until 1731 that Richard Challoner at last won permission to return as a missionary priest to his native country. A year later his mother died and was buried in the old Catholic Cemetery at Winchester; her son was not at her death-bed as he could not be warned in time.

England and Wales had been divided into four Districts each with a Vicar-Apostolic (a bishop in partibus), who was under the direction of the Congregation of Propaganda in Rome. These Districts were of great extent; London, for instance, covered ten counties. A Vicar-Apostolic was therefore faced with problems of distance and transport in supervising his priests; moreover the financial resources were meagre and he could not afford to maintain an administrative staff beyond having one or two chaplains. When Challoner returned to England, there were about 70,000 Catholics in the country, of whom some 25,000 were in the London District with sixty secular priests.

The aged Bishop Bonaventure Giffard was then Vicar-Apostolic of the London District. He died in March 1734 at the age of ninety-one. His coadjutor, Bishop Benjamin Petre, succeeded him and not long afterwards he appointed Challoner to be his Vicar-General. Few details are known of Challoner’s pastoral work at this period. Priests, of necessity, had to live in obscurity; under the penal laws they were liable to life imprisonment simply for being priests, and informers could reap a reward if they could bring a successful prosecution. The only safe places where Mass could be said in London were the Embassy Chapels; the Sardinian Chapel off Lincoln’s Inn Fields was purposely built larger than was necessary for the Embassy staff so that it could be available for Catholics. The district round the Chapel became a favoured residential area for Catholics, especially the streets leading north out of Red Lion Square, and it was here that Challoner lived during his fifty years in London. Like other priests he changed his lodgings from time to time to evade the attentions of informers. Later on he rented houses in the name of his housekeeper, Mrs Mary Hanne.* He said Mass and preached occasionally at the Sardinian Chapel, but usually he said Mass in many out-ofthe-way places such as cellars, attics and even cock-pits.

EARLY WRITINGS

Challoner soon recognized two needs that could best be met by the printed word. The first was to instruct and strengthen Catholics in their faith; the second was to combat Protestant misconceptions and attacks. He always regarded the first as of primary and urgent importance; he preferred not to enter into controversy but it could not be avoided; the Church must be defended. The Unerring Authority of the Catholic Church was published in 1732; five years later came The Catholick Christian Instructed, a book that went through many editions up to the 1880’s and was translated into French. In his preface Challoner attacked the views of Dr Conyers Middleton, who had argued that the Catholic liturgy was based on pagan practices. Legal proceedings were threatened against the printer and author (if he could be identified by the initials ‘R. . C . . . ‘), and Challoner was advised to withdraw to Douay until the storm died down. When he arrived at the College, he found that his old friend Dr Robert Witham was mortally sick; he died in May 1738.

Challoner had not been so absorbed in controversy that he had forgotten the devotional needs of Catholics, and just before crossing to France he published a translation of Thomas a Kempis’s Imitatio Christi under the title The Following of Christ; this for generations was the version used by Catholics and others. His stay at Douai was fruitful and he must have occupied many hours with his pen. He there produced his most influential book, The Garden of the Soul, published in 1740. This was a vade-mecum containing instructions, the Ordinary of the Mass, notes on

* The Catholic Record Society had a plaque placed on 44 Old Gloucester Street, the house where Challoner is believed to have died. confession, the Jesus Psalter, the Litany and general prayers. The book also included the ten meditations from the Introduction to a Devout Life by St Francis de Sales, the saint for whom Challoner had a special devotion. This invaluable aid to devotion was reprinted numerous times up to this century. Its place was taken by the Small Missal.

During his stay at Douay, Challoner must also have begun collecting the materials and transcribing the documents for his Missionary Priests, published in two volumes in 1741–2. After his return to England he was assisted by Alban Butler, then a professor at Douay, who sent him copies of original accounts of the martyrdoms of the priests and layfolk whose lives are recorded in that book, which remains the classic record of the martyrs from 1577 to 1684. Challoner’s accuracy has rarely been challenged.

BISHOP OF DEBRA

Before his death, Dr Witham had recommended Challoner as his successor at Douay, and this was so generally approved that his appointment seemed assured, but Bishop Petre had to be reckoned with. He took more energetic action on this occasion than he had ever taken in anything before, and at length he got his way. Richard Challoner was appointed his coadjutor with the right of succession to the London District. He was consecrated Bishop of Debra on 29 January 1741 at the Hammersmith Convent. This had been founded by Queen Catherine of Braganza; a school for girls was established there under the nuns who, of course, could not wear the habit.

Now that he had got his coadjutor, Bishop Petre withdrew to his family estate in Essex; his health was precarious but he lived another seventeen years. For all practical purposes Bishop Challoner was now Vicar-Apostolic. He at once set out to make a visitation of his vast District; this was a great undertaking, entailing as it did much tedious travel, but it was an essential foundation for his pastoral work. For too long great numbers of Catholics had been deprived of the sacrament of confirmation and many priests had not seen a bishop since coming on the mission. One small sample of what was involved must suffice for all; this is taken from his notes of a tour in West Sussex in 1741. At Cowdray he confirmed 116 candidates; at West Grinstead, 41; and at Slindon, 67. It took him two years to cover the ten counties.

Meanwhile the apostolate of the printed word continued. The Grounds of the Old Religion, published in 1742, was a substantial exposition of the Rule of Faith grounded on the word of God and the apostolic tradition. His next work was complementary to the Memoirs; he set out to revive knowledge of the old British and English saints; his book was called Britannica Sancta and was published in 1745. By this book and the Memoirs, Challoner hoped to promote among Catholics a pride in their ancestry, not as a form of boasting, but as a means of strengthening their loyalty to the Church, and to show them that their present sufferings were not as hard as those endured by the martyrs and saints of the past.

THE FORTY-FIVE

The year 1745 was one of grave decision for Catholics. The preparations for an invasion by Prince Charles Edward were known to the Government and a watch was kept on leading Catholics. When the Young Pretender reached Derby on Black Friday, 6 December 1745, all Catholics were ordered to leave London; their houses were searched for arms. It is not known if Challoner left the city but the indications are that he did not do so. He did his utmost to prevent Catholics from taking any active part in the rising and he succeeded in restraining many. At the same time he, like most Catholics, regarded the Old Pretender as the legitimate James III, and, indeed, Challoner’s appointment had been sanctioned by the exiled prince. After the defeat of the Jacobites, the London prisons were crowded with Scottish and English Catholics. Challoner raised funds for their support, for otherwise they would have been half-starved; he and his priests went into the prisons as unofficial chaplains. This was done so discreetly that the Government did not interfere. Fortunately the country quickly regained its equilibrium. A proposal was made for exacting a stringent oath of loyalty from all Catholics, but this was dropped. With the defeat of the Jacobites in the ’45, Catholics became more reconciled to the Hanoverian dynasty. The effective end of their support came when Pope Clement XIII refused to recognize the Young Pretender as Charles III on the death of his father in 1766.

SCHOOLS

One effect of the anti-Catholic feeling roused by the ’45 was the closing of the small Catholic school at Twyford, near Winchester, where Alexander Pope and the future Bishop James Talbot and his brother were educated. Challoner had visited the school in 1741. It was not until 1749 that he found an alternative at Standon Lordship in Hertfordshire, where he was able to rent the mansion from Lord Aston. The school remained there until 1767, when it was removed to Hare Street, a few miles north; two years later a final move was made to Old Hall Green, and so it eventually became St Edmund’s College. Bishop Challoner was far from satisfied with only one school. Finance was a serious problem, but there were legal ones as well, as Catholics were forbidden to buy land or to run schools; so various subterfuges had to be used to get round the law. Sedgeley Park, near Wolverhampton, became available in 1763; this school had a most successful career, but was ultimately merged in the present Cotton College.

THE DOUAY BIBLE

It was about 1748 that Challoner began the work for which he is best remembered- the revision of the Douay Bible. The translation of the New Testament had been published in 1582 and of the Old Testament in 1609. Its cost put it out of reach of most Catholics; moreover there was a natural reaction to the Protestant contention that the Bible alone was the source of the Christian Faith. Challoner did not set out to make a new translation; his aim was to remove antiquated words and expressions so that the Bible would be more readable and understandable by ordinary folk. As his collaborator he had a Carmelite friar, Fr Francis Blyth. The complete work, with Challoner’s notes, was published in 1750. A few minor revisions were made in later editions, but when we speak of the Douay Bible we mean Challoner’s version.

The next important publication was Meditations for Every Day in the Year, published in 1753. This became a beloved book in many Catholic households and among non-Catholics as well. For instance, it was a favoured book of devotion for the Anglican John Keble, the mentor and friend of John Henry Newman. It was last reprinted in 1916; it was translated into French and Italian.

There is not space here to deal with all the books for which Bishop Challoner was responsible; they include translations (St Francis de Sales), lives (St Teresa of Avila), as well as such compilations as the Manual of Prayers. The frequent reprints testify to the value put on them by Catholics who had only occasional opportunities for going to Mass. These faithful people have sometimes been called, with a touch of disdain, ‘Garden-of-the-Soul Catholics.’ It is difficult for us to understand the restrictive conditions under which they lived; they were isolated from the rest of the community and were regarded with suspicion. Yet theirs was a solid piety, securely based on prayer and meditation, and lacking many of the aids to devotion that we accept as normal. The books of Bishop Challoner fortified them and gave them spiritual sustenance.

In such a brief record as this, it is convenient to deal with Challoner’s writings as a group, but it should be remembered that this work went on throughout his years as Coadjutor and Vicar-Apostolic. It began in 1728 and ended in the year of his death, 1781, with a volume containing a number of occasional discourses.

VICAR-APOSTOLIC

Bishop Petre died in December 1758 at the age of eighty-six; Bishop Challoner became Vicar-Apostolic of the London District at the age of sixty-eight. He at once applied to Rome for a coadjutor, and, indeed, it seemed an urgent matter, for the Bishop was seriously ill in the spring of 1759. He submitted to Rome three names but indicated his preference for James Talbot, aged thirty-three, a brother of the Earl of Shrewsbury. He and his brother Thomas, who later became Vicar-Apostolic of the Midland District, were both trained at Douay. James Talbot’s name was submitted to the Old Pretender for his concurrence; this was the last time such an action was taken. There was some delay in the consecration until Bishop Challoner was sufficiently recovered from his illness. James Talbot was consecrated as Bishop of Birtha in August 1759. From then onwards, Bishop Challoner spent most of his time in London.

One of his chaplains described the Bishop’s way of life; it was strictly regulated so that not an hour was wasted and he was thus able to do so much writing; he always had some book on hand and could turn to it whenever he had halfan-hour’s leisure. He was up at six o’clock, made an hour’s meditation before saying Mass, followed by his Thanksgiving. Breakfast was at nine, after which he said part of the Office. The rest of the morning was spent in correspondence and in seeing those who wanted his advice or had other business. Dinner was at two o’clock, when ‘he was always very cheerful and agreeable.’ After dinner he would go for a walk with one of the chaplains and pay short calls on members of his flock. He returned home before six o’clock to be available to hear confessions or give advice. Supper was at nine. The rest of the Office would be said, and then he could turn again to his writing, which included not only books but long letters of spiritual direction to those who sought his help. The need for secrecy and prudence has meant that few details of Challoner’s pastoral work have been recorded, but what has come down to us shows how assiduous he was in responding to the needs of both clergy and laity.

THE FIRST RELIEF ACT, 1778

One of the many trials of the Bishop was the defection of some of the leading Catholic families. The final collapse of the Stuart cause had its effect in reconciling Catholics to the reigning house with a growing desire to take their natural places in the conduct of affairs. Many conformed; they included the Gages of Firle- this must have greatly distressed Challoner- the Montagues, the Shelleys, the Ropers, the Waldegraves, and others. There was also a renewed attack on Catholics in the 1760’s. Informers out to earn a reward caused the closing of several ‘private mass houses,’ and they brought suspected priests before the magistrates; thus Bishop Talbot was indicted three times but, for want of proof of his priesthood, the cases were dismissed.

Yet it was at this very period, when the Catholic Church in this country was at its nadir, that the first steps towards emancipation were taken. The cause was not a growth of the spirit of tolerance, but a military need. The American War of Independence that began in 1775 called for more and more soldiers, and it was thought that many recruits could be gained in the Highlands of Scotland if the religious difficulty could be overcome; the oath that a soldier had to take implied a repudiation of the Pope. In 1778 a government emissary went to discuss the matter with Bishop George Hay, the Vicar-Apostolic of the Lowlands. He at once advised that Bishop Challoner should be consulted. The government could not officially deal with a ‘Romish Bishop’ as he had no legal standing- indeed, should have been in prison! So the official negotiations were conducted through leading Catholic laymen such as Lord Petre. The Bishop would have liked the repeal of all the penal laws, but this would not have been approved by Parliament; something more modest had some chance of acceptance. After much parleying, a Bill was introduced in the Commons on 14 May and the Act received the royal assent three weeks later. It permitted all Catholics who took an agreed oath to serve the Crown; the laws against priests were repealed. The Act was very limited, but it opened the way to full emancipation fifty years later. Bishop Challoner and Bishop Talbot at once issued a pastoral letter saying the oath was acceptable, and that Catholics could now ‘meet without danger to yourselves or your flocks, from the very grievous penal laws.’

THE GORDON RIOTS

Parliament had moved without testing public opinion and there was still strong anti-papal feeling in Scotland and England. Under Lord George Gordon (who may charitably be regarded as half-crazed), a Protestant Association was formed and a monster petition was presented to Parliament on 2 June 1780 for the instant repeal of the new Act. Mobs gathered when the petition was taken to the House of Commons, and soon got out of control. The town riff-raff joined in. The Embassy chapels were burned and looted and many a Catholic had his house plundered and even destroyed. Other objectives soon attracted the mob; prisons were forced and prisoners freed; the Bank of England was attacked. It was not until a week had passed that at last order was restored. Charles Dickens’s Barnaby Rudge, based on authentic materials, does not exaggerate the violence of the riots.

As soon as the mob got loose, Bishop Challoner’s chaplains and friends were alarmed for his safety and for three weeks he was sheltered in a friend’s house in Finchley.

There is no doubt that the sorrow over what had happened hastened the aged Bishop’s end. He died in his house in Gloucester Street on 12 January 1781; he was in his ninetieth year. He was buried in the family vault of his friend Briant Barrett at Milton, Berkshire. The entry in the parish register reads: ‘Anno Domini 1781, Jan. 22. Buried the Reverend Richard Challoner, a Popish Priest and Titular Bishop of London and Salisbury (sic), a very pious and good man, of great learning and extensive abilities.’

Richard Challoner’s remains were reinterred in 1946 in the Chapel of St Gregory and St Augustine in Westminster Cathedral, a fitting sepulchre for the greatest of the Vicars-Apostolic who in his lifetime was known as ‘the Venerable Bishop Challoner.’

HIS ACHIEVEMENT

By divine providence, Richard Challoner served the Catholics in England for fifty years at a period when the penalized Church was slowly losing ground; many had become disheartened and the prospects of recovery were more than doubtful. Challoner’s numerous publications are the chief achievements that now bring him before us, but, as Bishop John Milner noted in his funeral discourse in January 1781:

‘If it were not known how assiduous he ever was in the discharge of his sacred functions, and how much of his time was constantly taken up with preaching, instructing, administering the sacraments, attending to the various and intricate concerns of his district, and with his prayers and devotions, we might be led to imagine that he had done nothing else but write, and that his whole life had been devoted to the composition of the many works he has left us in defence of the true faith and of sound morality.’

It was by this twofold apostolate- his pastoral care and his writings—that he sustained the faith of his flock when they sorely needed encouragement to persevere. At the end of his life he saw the first step taken towards emancipation, and it was undoubtedly his decisive approval that made it possible for that step to be taken; had he insisted on consultation with Rome at every stage, the opportunity would have been lost by the inevitably long-drawnout exchanges of opinion. Yet it remains true to say that it was by his books that his influence was most effective, far beyond his own District, and, indeed, among non-Catholics as well. The Garden of the Soul and his Meditations, as well as other publications, were, as we have seen, frequently reprinted up to the early years of this century. His Missionary Priests gave Catholics a pride in their ancestry and showed them patterns of endurance under persecution. His revision of the Douay Bible was for two centuries the Bible known to Catholics.

For his contemporaries there was a third influence- his holy life. To quote Bishop Milner again:

‘When I represent Bishop Challoner as a saint, I say no more of him now after his death, than all who knew him have said of him during his life.’

This gives numerous glimpses of Bishop Challoner as pastor and preacher. William Mawhood went to him regularly for confession and attended his sermons at The Ship Tavern. He sheltered the bishop at Finchley during the Gordon Riots, of which Mawhood gives a first-hand account.

Bishop Challoner’s mitre and faldstool are at Westminster Cathedral; the chalice he used at Finchley is at Downside Abbey.

PRAYER FOR THE BEATIFICATION OF

BISHOP CHALLONER

O God, who didst make thy servant Richard a true and faithful pastor of thy little flock in England, deign to place him among the Blessed in thy Church, so that we who profit by his word and example may beg his help in heaven for the return of this land to the ancient faith and to the fold of the one true Shepherd Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

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Blessed Are The Poorin Spirit. . . . . Blessed Are The Meekof Heart. . . .

BY THE VERY REV. THOMAS N. BURKE

INDEX

ON THE FIRST BEATITUDE

[Delivered at the Advent Conferences in the Catholic University, Dublin) “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the Kingdom of Heaven”

We are come together to consider the things that regard our eternal interests—to consider what we owe to God, to our neighbor, and to ourselves. We meet to reflect on the Divine law, the reasons and the extent of its obligations, and our own fulfilment of them.

BLESSINGS BEING CATHOLICS

In all this we have not to seek for the truth, but only to reflect upon it, and apply it to ourselves.

We have an infallible guide in truth

the Church

the pillar and the ground of truth. We are not forced, thank

God, to fall back upon our own judgment, like those of whom St. Peter speaks, “blind and groping.” But to you I say, in the words of the same Apostle, “I will begin to put you in remembrance of these things, though indeed you know them and are confirmed in thepresent truth; but I think it meet to stir you up by putting you in remembrance.”

Not so with others, to whom an entrance has not been ministered into “the everlasting kingdom of our Lord Jesus Christ.” They are obliged to inquire into everything, to attempt to prove everything, even first principles and the mysteries of revelation, and they are tempted to reject even the holiest truths of God, which are discussed before that most fallible tribunal- the reason of man. Of such, a great man formerly intimately connected with your university, complains, whilst yet a Protestant, in the introduction to one of his works. “Unhappy is it,” he says, “that we should be obliged to discuss and defend what a Christian people were intended to enjoy; to appeal to their intellects instead of “stirring up their pure mind, by way of admonition;” to direct them towards articles of faith which should be their place of starting, and to treat as mere conclusions, what in other ages have been assumed as first principles.” “Surely life is not long enough to prove everything which may be made the subject of proof; and though inquiry is left partly open, in order to try our earnestness, yet it is in a great measure, and in the most important points, superseded by revelation, which discloses things which reason could not reach—saves us the labor, of using it when it might avail, and sanctions thereby the principle of dispensing it;” but he adds, “We have succeeded in raising clouds which effectually hide the sun from us; we have nothing left but to grope our way by reason as we best can- our necessary, because now our only guide. . . . We have asserted our right of debating every truth, however sacred, however protected from scrutiny heretofore; we have accounted that belief alone to be manly which commenced in doubt, that inquiry alone philosophical which assumed no first principles, that religion alone rational which we have created for ourselves;” and the end, my brethren, “loss of labor, division, and error have been the threefold gain of our self-will, as evidently visited in this world- not to follow it into the next.” Such was the testimony of a singularly deep and candid mind, even before it was yet enlightened by the pure rays of divine truth. But for us, we seek not to find out what is the truth. That we have already found. Our great Mother holds it, and propounds it, and we say to her in the words of the Apostle, “I know whom I have believed, and I am certain that she is able to keep that which hath been committed unto her,” (Scio cui credidi et certus sum quia potens est depositum meum servare.) the sacred deposit of all truth. But we inquire, “that we may be able to comprehend with all the saints, what is the breadth, and length and height, and depth of that divine truth.” To know also, “the charity of Christ, which surpasseth all knowledge,” i.e., to pursue the truth into all the details of its practical teaching in the moral law, where our faith reveals itself in charity “unto all the fulness of God.” This is the great object of the Catholic preacher, after the example of our Divine Lord himself; for it is worthy of remark, that His first Sermon on the Mount, in which we might naturally expect an exposition of Christian dogma, was a moral sermon, sketching out the great features of the Christian character, by which His followers should be individually known amongst men to the end of time. Let us consider them:

FIRST—“BLESSED ARE THE POOR IN SPIRIT, FOR THEIRS IS THE KINGDOM OF HEAVEN.”

The first word spoken by our Lord was, “Blessed.” “Much people followed Him,” says the Evangelist, “from Galilee, and from Decapolis, and from Jerusalem, and from beyond the Jordan, and seeing the multitude, He went up into a mountain;” this was His pulpit—befitting the preacher and His message. He was “the desired of the everlasting hills,” and it was written, “Get Thee up into a high mountain; Thou that bringest good tidings to Sion; lift up Thy voice, Thou that bringest good tidings to Jerusalem; lift it up, fear not; say to the cities of Juda, behold your God,” and opening His mouth, He taught them. The mouth of God, closed for four thousand years, and when last it spoke, it was to curse the first sinner and the earth in his work, “Cursed is the earth in thy work;” “the earth is infected;” (Isaias) “for the Lord hath spoken this word,. . . . therefore shall a curse devour the earth.”

CHRIST, THE ANTITHESIS OF ADAM

Now, it was fitting that Christ’s first word should be a revoking of this curse, for, as St. Paul loves to bring out, He was the antithesis of Adam. “As by the disobedience of one man, many were made sinners; so also, by the obedience of one man, many shall be made just, . . . therefore, as by the offence of one, unto all men to condemnation; so also, by the justice of one, unto all men to justification of life.” And yet, if we look into the blessing, we shall find that the curse pronounced upon the world is rather confirmed than revoked by it, for it says, “Blessed are the poor in spirit,” i.e., Blessed are they who in some sense or other are alienated and separated from the world.

WHY CHRIST BEGINS WITH THE SPIRIT

Mark that Christ begins with the spirit. First, because “God is a spirit, and they that adore Him must adore Him in spirit and in truth.” Hence, the Apostle says: “God is my witness whom I serve in my spirit.” And secondly, because the spirit or seat of the affectionsis that portion of man’s soul which guides and influences all the action of his life. There are two great portions—divisions—powers—faculties in the soul of man: first, the apprehensive or intellectual; and second, the affective or appetitive. To the first belongs the memory, and the office of this first great portion of the soul is to apprehend and preserve ideas, and from them to form knowledge. The second great division of the soul, which we have called the spirit (for the very word suspirare signifies desire), contains the intellectual appetite or will, the affections and desires; and as this will of man, which is led not only by the intellect but still more forcibly by the passions or desires, according to the saying of the poet, “trahit sua quemque voluptas,” determines his every act, for that act alone is human which proceeds from it, it follows that the portion of the soul which holds this will and these affections and desires is the source and spring of all moral life in man. Christ our Lord, therefore, began with the spirit, because He wished to change the face of the earth. “Send forth Thy Spirit, and they shall be created, and Thou shalt renew the face of the earth.” The Spirit of God was to go forth and to take the place of the human spirit, and Christianity was to effect this, that men should no longer be led by their own spirit- i. e., their own natural affections and desires—but by the Spirit of God. According to the word of the Apostle, “Whosoever are led by the Spirit of God they are the sons of God,” and thus they should “put on the Lord Jesus Christ; for if any man have not the Spirit of Christ, he is none of His.” But to Christians he says, “Know you not that you are the temple of God, and that the Spirit of God dwelleth in you?” Blessed, then says the Saviour, are the poor in spirit. Some commentators apply this word to those who are really poor, either by privation in the world or by the high voluntary poverty of holy religion which we find in the cloister. That the text bears such an application is abundantly proved from St. Luke, who adds in the context, “Woe to you who are rich, for you have your consolation.” Still, the text bears a much more extended application, and, therefore, others interpret poverty of spirit to mean humility, the foundation, and, at the same time, the crown of all virtues. This interpretation is also true, and the most adopted by the holy fathers. But we can find even more in this beatitude than the canonization of humility. As it was the first feature of the Christian character propounded by the Saviour, so, upon reflection, we find in this beatitude the first foundation of Christian life—namely, Faith, for truly the man who is poor in spirit means the man of faith. What is poverty? Poverty means privation- an emptiness- an absence of something- a casting away from us and a renunciation of something. Poverty of spirit, then, would mean a casting away of desires—affections—appetites—seeing that the spirit of man is the seat of all these. But does Almighty God demand of us a relinquishing of all affections and desires? In other words, does He demand of us a destruction of this great portion of our being? Certainly not. God is not a destroyer, nor is destruction pleasing to Him. It is not, then, so much the destruction as the transfer of our desires, hopes, affections, which Almighty God demands of us by poverty of spirit. There are two kinds of possessions—the temporal and the eternal- the visible and the invisible- the things of the present and those of the future- the goods of sense and those of faith. Now, man is naturally inclined to seek the things of this world rather than those of the world to come. He depends so much upon his senses, even for the things which belong to the soul, such as knowledge and even faith; he is so completely surrounded by sense that he is naturally inclined to rest in sense, to seek his happiness in the present enjoyment of sense, and to put away from him all consideration of future and unseen things. Much more are we unwilling to make any sacrifice for the sake of the unseen- to relinquish the visible for the invisible- to deprive ourselves of present enjoyment because of blessings to come. We all love ourselves faithfully- intensely. We love ourselves better than anything else- better than our neighbor- than virtue- than God.

Now, Christ our Lord, by redemption, made us the sons of God; “and he gave them power to become sons of God.” As such we must be different from the old, the natural man, in spirit- i.e., in thoughts, in desires, in affections, in views, in conduct. This the Apostle clearly points out when he says, “the first man was of the earth—earthly; the second man from heaven- heavenly. Such as is the earthly such also are the earthly, and such as is the heavenly such also are they that are heavenly, Therefore, as we have borne the image of the earthly, let us bear also the image of the heavenly.” But before we can thus put on the image of the heavenly man, so as to be made conform able to the Lord Jesus Christ- in a word, before we become Christians, we must cast away from us the old man, the human spirit, and hence poverty of spirit is the beginning, the foundation, of the Christian character.Faith is “the substance of things to be hoped for,” consequently, future blessings; “the conviction of things that appear not,” consequently, things not to be apprehended by the senses; for, says the Apostle, “Per fidem ambulamus, et non per speciem.” The man of faith is he who has views and desires beyond and above this world and sense, who makes not the things of sense the last and great object of his wishes and desires; who uses not at all the things that are, when they cross or impede his eternal interest (in other words, when they are sinful), and in the things which he uses has something in view beyond what is seen, and makes all that is created subservient to the uncreated, all that is temporal conducive to that which is eternal, all that is of earth serviceable for that which is heavenly. Such is the man of faith. Oh, glorious man, like to the Son of God!

ON THE SECOND BEATITUDE

[Delivered at the Advent Conference in the Catholic University, Dublin.] “Blessed are the meek of heart, for they shall possess the land.”

THIS is the next feature of the Christian character brought out by our divine Lord. The Christian must be not only a man of faith- living for divine purposes—influenced by supernatural motives—grasping at the invisible beneath the forms of things that appear; but he must also be imbued with the virtue of meekness. Remember, gentlemen, that Christianity means perfection—the very perfection of man- of human nature in all its natural properties and powers—and, far beyond this—the perfection of human nature in all the supernatural gifts of divine grace. Life, according to St. Thomas Aquinas, is spontaneous motion. There are two kinds of motion- one produced by something external or extrinsic to the thing moved—as when the powerful attraction of the sun moves the inanimate earth. The other is caused by something internal or intrinsic, as when the human body is moved by the living soul or principle of motion within it. This St. Thomas calls intrinsic or spontaneous motion. If you reflect on the definition you will find it comprehensive and pertinent, for surely our idea of life is motion of some kind, and we naturally look upon perfect stillness as death. Now, all motion bears in its very essence the idea of a starting-point, of a point to be reached, and of an effort to pass from one to the other. Now, the Catholic Church teaches us that God is the starting-point of man- that God is the point to be attained by him, and that our Lord Jesus Christ- God made man- is the way, the form, the model, the means, to conduct him to his end. “I am Alpha and Omega—the beginning and the end;” He says, and elsewhere, “I am the way, the truth, and the life;” for, says the Apostle, “there is but one God, and one Mediator between God and man, the man Jesus Christ.” The life thus proposed to us clearly involves all supernatural perfection of grace, for in “Christ abode all the fullness of the divinity corporally.” But, by an eternal law, that which is perfect in the highest order involves all the perfection of the lower; therefore, in seeking to be made conformable to the image of the Son of God, we come by all that is most perfect in the order of nature, and thus “godliness is profitable to all things, having promise of the life that now is, and of that which is to come.” Let us see how far the virtue of meekness conduces to the natural and supernatural perfection of man. First, then, what is meekness?

WHAT IS MEEKNESS?

Meekness is the virtue or power by which the passion of anger is so moderated and restrained as not to rise within us except when necessary and in the measure which is necessary. It is then, as you perceive, an exercise of power in the reason of man over the inferior appetites and powers of the soul. Man, as you know, is made up of body and soul—of matter and spirit- each with its own nature and its own powers—wonderfully united, and acting on each other in the one being. The soul has its own affections and desires, its own rational appetite, which is the will, guided and influenced by reason. But as this soul is joined to a material body, and depends for its impressions upon sense, there is also a sensual appetite; and depraved desire and passion in excess assail the soul. These sensitive appetites manifest themselves in two great master-passions in man, viz., concupiscence and anger; concupiscence, which prompts us to seek that which is or which we conceive to be desirable- anger, which disturbs and excites the soul, when that which is desirable is removed, or when we are impeded in its pursuit. Here then is man- as far as we have to deal with him—made up of intellect, will, passion of concupiscence and anger; and, besides the theological virtues, which entirely regard the supernatural perfection of man, we have the cardinal virtues, which may be said to regard his natural perfection, and they affect these four powers or passions; for prudence is in the intellect, justice in the will, temperance regards the passion of concupiscence, and fortitude that of anger. The more these virtues govern and influence their respective powers, the more perfect is man, in the order of nature.”It belongs to human virtue,” says St. Thomas,”to make a man perfect by reducing his every act to the dominion of reason, which is done in three ways. 1st, The reason itself is rightly ordered, and this is done by the intellectual virtues or powers. 2nd, Reason thus ordered or perfected becomes the guide and ruler of all human affairs, through the medium of the virtue of justice; and, 3rd, All impediments to such guidance or government of reason are removed, (a), by the virtue of temperance, which restrains the will when it is drawn aside in pursuit of that which right reason forbids, and, (b), by fortitude, which overcomes, by strength of mind and will, the difficulties that arise in the way of virtue, just as a man by strength and energy of body conquers and repels all bodily difficulties.” Thus we behold how all natural perfection in man consists in the perfect and absolute dominion of a well-ordered reason or mind. Perfection means order, for, observes the Angelic Master, the perfection and beauty of all creation consists in order. Now, our idea of order is that inferior things should be subject to things superior, and that what is supreme should govern all; but as the intellect or reason is the supreme power in man, it follows that man’s natural perfection must consist in the dominion of this reason over all the inferior powers of the soul and all the passions and inclinations of the man.

Thus it was with the first man as he came from the hands of God- a perfect being. “God made man right,” says the Preacher; and elsewhere, “He filled him with the knowledge of understanding, and He created in him the science of the spirit, and filled his heart with wisdom.” In that happy time, before sin found its entrance into the newly-created world, all was perfection, because all was order. The inferior animals and beings were perfectly subject to man. “Let us make man,” says the Lord, “to our image and likeness, and let him have dominion over the fishes of the sea, and the fowls of the air, and the beasts, and the whole earth, and every creeping creature that moveth upon the earth.” The senses, and all the inferior appetites in man himself, were under complete control of the will, which, in its turn was ruled by a reason that was in perfect subjection to God. But when this order was disturbed by sin- when man’s reason and will refused their obedience to God- then the inferior appetites and passions, in their turn, refused to be subject to the reason, and the creation of God, and the stubborn earth itself, rebelled against man. In losing the supernatural gifts of grace and innocence, man lost also the very natural integrity and perfection of his being. Such was the connection between nature and grace, that when grace departed the integrity of nature was also lost, and humanity remained not only robbed and stripped of its divine clothing, but also mutilated and powerless. From all this it follows, first, that the passion which most directly and powerfully assails the dominion of reason- blinds it, overpowers it, casts it from its throne- is thegreatest impediment to man’s natural perfection. And, secondly, that the virtue or power which masters this passion- binds it down under the dominion of the mind, directs its energy, whilst it destroys its inordinate tendency- is the greatest safeguard of reason, and consequently most directly conducive to man’s natural perfection.

WHAT IS ANGER?

Now, gentlemen, that passion is anger, and that virtue is meekness. Well then may we conclude that Christ our Lord, in restoring to us the supernatural, and enabling us to acquire this virtue, has also given us back the integrity and natural perfection which Adam had lost. What is anger? Anger is defined : An inordinate desire of revenge. The sensitive appetite, excited, inflamed by injury, real or imaginary, acts upon the will, inclining and inducing it to desire of revenge. It is no longer reason guiding and directing the will, but the sensitive appetite, i.e., an inferior power of the soul, directing a superior- consequently, an inversion of order. The very nature of anger is to act and desire without right reflection. Hence, nothing is more common than to plead anger as an excuse for irrational acts. We say, a man did such a thing under the great excitement of anger, consequently he cannot be held accountable- we must excuse him. Yes—excuse him; but the very plea put forward in his defence shows how completely reason is destroyed, for the time being, by this passion, for, as the poet says, “ira furor brevis est”—it is a temporary madness. We sometimes hear the phrase, “maddened by anger;” and the very law speaks of the murder committed in anger, as manslaughter- one animal slaughtering another. We never speak of a man as maddened by pride, maddened by lust—but maddened by anger. A man in anger is recognized as an unreasoning animal. He no longer answers to the definition of man,”animal rationale.” In fact, if right reason were supposed to rule him, we should cease to look upon him as angry, for it is not the excitement, but the inordinate, unreasoning excess of it, amounting to perturbation of mind and subversion of reason, which constitutes the sin of anger. There is an excitement which has all the appearance of anger, and which even leads to terrible results, and yet is sinless, because under the control of a well-ordered mind. St. Chrysostom says: “He that is angry without cause, sins; but he who has sufficient cause, sins not. Nam si ira non fuerit nec doctrina proficit nee judicia staut- nec crimina compescuntur.”

Such was the indignation of Moses, “the meekest of men.” He saw an Egyptian strike one of the Hebrews, his brethren . . . he slew the Egyptian and hid him in the sand. And again, “When he came nigh to the camp he saw the calf and the dances, and, being very angry, he threw the tables out of his hand and broke them at the foot of the mount . . . and standing in the gate of the camp he said: If any man be on the Lord’s side let him join with me; and all the sons of Levi gathered themselves together unto him, and he said to them, Thus saith the Lord, the God of Israel; put every man his sword upon his thigh; go and return from gate to gate through the midst of the camp, and let every man kill his brother and friend and neighbor. And the sons of Levi did according to the words of Moses, and there were slain that day about three and twenty thousand men.” And yet what says the Holy Ghost? “Moses was a man exceeding meek above all men that dwelt upon earth.” Such again was the noble indignation of Mathathias. . . .”a priest of the sons of Joarib;” for when “there came a certain Jew in the sight of all to sacrifice to the idols upon the altar in the city of Modin, according to the king’s commandment. And Mathathias saw and was grieved, and his veins trembled, and his wrath was kindled according to the judgment of the law, and running upon him he slew him upon the altar.” We can go far higher for an illustration of the word of the Psalmist, “Be ye angry and sin not.” “And Jesus went up to Jerusalem; and He found in the temple them that sold oxen and sheep and doves, and the changers of money sitting. And when He had made as it were a scourge of little cords, He drove them all out of the temple . . . and the money of the changers He poured out, and the tables He overthrew.” But in all these and the like examples, a high and perfect motive of reason governed and directed the acts; as in Moses, the inspiration of God; in Mathathias, the”judgment of the law;” and in our blessed Lord, a devouring zeal for the glory and honor of His Father’s house. There is then, as you perceive, a good and a bad anger; one anger justifiable and another unjustifiable. Hence Aristotle says, “He is worthy of praise or of blame, who is sometimes angry.” When is anger sinful, when is it not? It is sinful, first, when we desire vindication or revenge for its own sake, and not for the lawful end of correction of our neighbor; or when we wish to see the innocent punished or to have excessive punishment inflicted on the guilty; or when we wish to subvert the legitimate order and course of justice; in a word, when the desire is contrary to right reason. Secondly, anger is sinful when the motion or excitement is allowed to become too vehement, so as to be rage, either internal or external, for thus ittakes the place of reason; and St. Gregory the Great says, “All care must be taken lest anger, which should be the handmaid of virtue, be allowed to predominate in the mind; lest she should become mistress, who, like an obedient servant, should stand behind reason.” But no passion more completely destroys reason, as we have seen, than inordinate and sinful anger; nay, more, it deforms even the exterior man, making him like to a demon; hence St. John Chrysostom says, “Nothing is more frightful than the face of an infuriated man;” for, says St. Gregory, quoting indeed from Seneca, “The excited heart throbs—the body trembles—the senseless tongue pours forth incoherent words—the inflamed countenance fires with rage- the furious eyes sparkle again!” and, concludes the mild philosopher, “What must the angry soul be whose external image is so foul and deformed!”

GLORIES OF MEEKNESS

If such be anger, how high and glorious must that virtue be which conquers, moderates, and restrains it- which either represses it altogether, so as to preserve perfect peace of soul and body, or permits it to rise only as far as reason permits or demands, and thus makes a virtue of what may be so hideous a vice- and such is meekness. Many persons, particularly the young, look upon meekness as something unnecessary and superfluous—a virtue of the cloister, or of females, and of the old. And thus blinded and misled, they allow an evil, impetuous temper and passion to enslave them. And yet, surely, there is no virtue more manly or ennobling than that which enables a man to govern himself and his own passions. How can a man rule others who is unable to rule himself? How can a man associate with others who is powerless and unable to live with his own soul in peace? He truly is fitted to be an Anax Andron- a king of men—who has learned by meekness to keep the little kingdom of his own soul and body in the proper order of subjection to reason. Every virtue is a power- the very word virtue means power; and what is more terrible in its power than meekness? We admire the strength of Samson, quietly turning aside into the vineyard and tearing the lion as he would have torn a kid in pieces: far more wonderful is the strength of him who can seize the demon of anger, and chain him down as the archangel chained Lucifer. St. Thomas asks the question whether meekness be the greatest of moral virtues? After some distinctions he answers: “In one sense, meekness has a peculiar excellence amongst the virtues; for as anger, on account of its impetuosity and suddenness, deprives the soul (more than any other passion) of freedom and of the power of judgment, so meekness, which governs anger, preserves unto man (beyond all other virtues) the possession of himself;” hence Ecclesiasticussaith, “My son, keep thy soul in meekness and give it honor according to its deserts. Who will justify him that sinneth against his own soul? Who will honor him that dishonoreth his own soul?” How powerless is the angry man when he is confronted by one who holds his soul and his temper in meekness! How futile was the rage of the Pharisees and priests in presence of the meekness of Jesus Christ! We have seen how far this virtue contributes to our natural perfection; let us now consider its supernatural excellence. The perfection of man in the supernatural order of grace is to be made like to the Lord Jesus Christ, by grace here- by glory hereafter. “Those whom He foreknew and predestinated to be made conformable to the image of His Son, the same also He called, and whom He called the same also He justified, and whom He justified the same also He glorified.” The resemblance of grace here reveals itself in virtues, and foremost of these is meekness, because our divine Lord Himself puts it first, saving, Learn of Me, because Iam meek and humble of heart.”

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Burning With Love

BY REV. R. STEVENSON, S.J

INDEX

A CATHOLIC, thinking about the difficulties he faces in the modern world, will readily see that, more than anything else, he needs a deeper, fuller knowledge of, and an enthusiasm for Jesus Christ. All about him he finds childish intellectual pride, false notions about God, crass and widespread materialism, sensuality in crude and base forms, a coolness towards God and religion, and even despair. For himself as a Christian he knows that Christ is not only the very centre-point of his religion, but that He is also a sure defence against deception, error and folly; “ He that followeth Me walketh not in darkness” (St Jn. VIII, 12). It is proposed therefore to show, that devotion to Christ’s Sacred Heart is no mere outmoded novelty of the seventeenth century, but that it is precisely the devotion suited to the needs of the day.

All the world knows that the present century is one of extraordinary scientific progress. If our forebears could see the advances made since it began, they would be astonished, in the full, literal sense of the word. Through industrious application, clever research and a measure of good fortune, men have succeeded in uncovering undreamt of secrets of nature. One cannot help feeling however, that had we been the very superior beings we conceive ourselves to be, these secrets would have been discovered much earlier in human history. But since vast numbers of men have no solid back ground of an accepted philosophy-much less a bulwark of Christian theology, provided by the catechism, it is quite easy for them, because of these human achievements, to adopt a superior and conceited attitude towards God, if indeed through faulty reasoning they do not deny Him altogether. But because man has discovered the principles of electricity or radio television, atomic power or even space travel, it by no means follows that he is master of all knowledge. This would seem to be the most obvious of all platitudes, and yet, it is quite unappreciated by vast numbers of otherwise clever and educated men. Why, one might ask? Because success and some specialised knowledge without humility and balance of mind, easily dispose one to the attitude of mind which we call intellectual pride, a prevalent failing of the day.

In these circumstances it must be clear that humility is a need of our age, for humility leads to further knowledge. It leads even more surely to the kingdom of heaven. “ God,” says St. Peter,” resisteth the proud, but to the humble He giveth grace” (St. Peter, I, v, 5). This being so, could there be a more suitable practice for our time than devotion to Him Who said: “Learn of me, because I am meek and humble of heart”? (St. Matt. XI, 29).

But modern life is a complex thing, and the modern world suffers from other ills besides intellectual pride. Christians today find themselves handicapped by the most inadequate and false notion of God, by which the heresies, deprived of the guidance of the true Church, represent the Almighty. Omitting practically all idea of God’s justice, except where it is con- venient to remember it, they picture Him as a kindly old Man, so full of benevolence, as to be forgetful of being true to Himself! He would never ask anything hard! Hence honesty, matrimonial fidelity, the burdens of parenthood, churchgoing, prayer and the like, have become for the nonCatholic masses “forgotten far-off things.” The result of this attitude is a definite coolness towards a personal God, manifesting itself in the empty churches,-or in the less extreme cases, in the presence of the merest handful of worshippers. The reason is of course different, but the effect is the same as that produced by the Jansenist heresy of the seventeenth century. For this latter landslide, the remedy prescribed by Our Lord himself was revealed to St. Margaret Mary in 1675. It would seem certain that the same devotion to the person of Christ is precisely what is required in our own time.

In the days of the Old Law God was truly mysterious and unknown: the Jews knew comparatively little about Him. He was spoken of as the King of kings and the Lord of hosts, dwelling in regions of indescribable glory and magnificence. So it was that Isaias could say; “Verily Thou art a hidden God” (Is. 45, 15). The whole divine Being seemed almost completely removed from a very imperfect human understanding: “My thoughts are not your thoughts; nor are your ways my ways. . . . .; as far as the heavens are exalted above the earth, so are my thoughts above your thoughts” (Is. 55, 8).

Once again the reasons for lack of knowledge of God are different, but the effect is the same. There was an excuse for the Jews of old, which does not exist now, for the coming of Jesus Christ on earth has revealed to men the very mind, if one may put it so, of God. Taking up the gospels they can learn the things God did-the life He led on earth, the words He spoke, even His thoughts. A thorough knowledge then of Our Lord, gained from the gospel in prayer, is a knowledge of God; a solid love of the Sacred Heart is a love of the Godhead. For this we have Christ’s own words: “ He that seeth me seeth the Father” (St. Jn. XIV, 9); and again: “No man cometh to the Father but by me” (XIV, 6).

The third characteristic of our modern age, as has been noted, is materialism. For Catholic and non-Catholic alike its cult, a logical outcome of the so-called Reformation, is the cause of widespread unrest, and a serious stumbling-block for the individual Christian. Its grossest forms meet him on every hand, and it is not difficult to see why they grip the world so firmly. Hemmed in as men are by the things of sense, it is hard to realise that these things are not what they seem to be; that though they are seen and handled every day, and seem solid and lasting, they are shadows compared with things unseen, the realities among which they shall be living before many years have passed. So it comes that many live for money and success, love or self-indulgence, deifying by their lives these passing things of time, as surely as the Jews of old, who bent the knee to the golden calf. Catholics would be a great deal more than human if, surrounded as they are by such living, they were not influenced in some way by this widespread foolishness, and overawed by the worldly success which plays such an important part in the thinking of so many non-Catholics. If they would be shielded from this childish error, what better haven could be found than in the Heart of Him Who said: “ Have confidence, I have overcome the world” (St. Jn. XVI, 33).

But one of the most striking, and to many people revolting sides of modern life, is the preoccupation of the masses with sex. Public behaviour, theatres and cinemas, radio and television, newspapers and magazines, novels, conversation and pastimes, even fashions, keep it constantly before the eyes and minds of Christian and non-Christian alike. It must not be concluded from this that “sex” is in itself something “ bad”; the contrary is the truth. The instinct of parenthood placed in the human heart by God is not only wise, necessary and good, but even beautiful and holy, provided it is used according to the laws of God and nature in holy matrimony. But the new-pagans seek sex gratification merely for the animal pleasure which it gives, without apparently any regard to its true end, its duties and responsibilities. At times they go so far as to pervert it in unnatural, beastly and degrading manner.

Great numbers of men and women, either through ignorance, lack of intelligence or selfishness, try to build successful marriages on the physical reproductive instinct alone, forgetting or ignoring, that the only motive for a successful married life is love. Of course the consequences are disastrous, as the daily sessions of the divorce court show. Here too the loving Saviour has an important lesson for the masses, the lesson of true unselfish love. “Learn of Me,” He says, showing how to love unto the end on Calvary. “Greater love than this no man hath, than that a man lay down his life for his friend”(St. Jn. XV, 13). Even more important for misguided humanity is the revelation of a love that alone can fully satisfy. “ Our hearts were made for Thee, O Lord,” writes St. Augustine in his “Confessions,” “and they shall never rest until they rest in Thee.”

So much for the groping, misled millions, outside the fold of the true Church. But we Catholics are also in dire need of the love and leadership of the Sacred Heart in our own private spiritual lives. Thoughtful observers sometimes notice a leaning towards religious extravagance in the lives of some of our Catholics. This expresses itself in an over-ready credence given to wonders and marvels, new “revelations”-even superstitions and religious ostentation, to the detriment, and often the neglect of the Ten Commandments, the Mass and the Sacraments. Devotions, good in themselves, sometimes tend to be multiplied, distracting attention from what should be the very core of our Christian Faith, Jesus Christ Himself.

To nonCatholics this is something entirely baffling. They meet “pious” people who are, slack about Sunday Mass, the Sacraments, married life, honesty, truth or such like, and one cannot blame them if they find an apparent contradiction here, between the high ideals of the Church and, the daily life of many of her members.

If then our Catholic churches are to be frequented by the lapsed as well as by the practising, and if the Christian way of life is to flourish in the home and place of business, it can only be done through the divine leadership of Christ. The enthusiastic love of the Saviour, which has drawn men over the ages to lives of unbelievable heroism and beauty, is the only power on earth which can move the masses, “I, if I shall be lifted up from the earth, shall draw all things to Myself” (St. Jn. XII, “32).

The present Holy Father, referring in his Encyclical Haurietis Aquas to the false materialistic philosophy and way of life of today, writes “And where, venerable Brothers, must we seek the remedy for these evils surely unsurpassed in history, which so gravely threaten individuals, families and nations in every part of the world? Can we find any more excellent form of devotion than this one of the Most Sacred Heart of Jesus, any form of devotion more fully in harmony with the Catholic Faith, or better suited to relieve the needs of the Church and of the human race today?”

I. THE PERSON OF CHRIST

It strikes one as strange that Christians, including so many Catholics, know so little about Our Blessed Lord-the kingliness of His Person, the attractiveness of His character, and the burning love of His divine Heart. True indeed artists throughout the ages have supplied us with paintings of Christ; and modern commercial art has not been wanting in pouring out thousands of pictures. But for the most part they are disappointing, and large numbers of representations do us a disservice. So many portray the Saviour with pretty, feminine features, and He was, of course, in every sense a Man, with all the qualities of perfect manhood.

A parish priest in the midlands of England has had a life-sized photograph of the holy Shroud of Turin framed. It hangs in his dining room, flanked by curtains which can be drawn in reverence at meal-time. A quite considerable body of opinion holds that this is a real likeness of Our Lord. If so, it is certainly most striking. Standing on a chair, so as to be level with the feet in the picture, one finds, that Christ must have” been tall, perhaps six feet two or three, and when one raises one’s eyes to look at the countenance, the qualities of nobility and kingliness are immediately most apparent. There is nothing weak, pretty or girlish here, and if the face could come alive on the canvas; if the eyes could open; the lips smile and the wan cheeks take on the colour of life; if the expressive hands could move and the tongue speak, here indeed would be the most wonderful Person Who ever walked the earth, the Man God, Jesus Christ.

In appearance He was attractive and undoubtedly fascinating. Above all His eyes, with their merciful, reproving or at times angry looks, must have struck all who saw them. In them one might perhaps read a little of the holiness and sinlessness, of the love and tenderness that was His. Was it not He Himself Who said, “ Is not the light of thy body thine eye?” (St. Lk. XI, 34), and surely both His eyes and countenance must often have been lit by a light that was not of this world.

We never read that Jesus was sick, and though He was full of the energy and well-being that comes from good health, we sometimes read that He was tired from bearing the heat and burden of the day, having traversed the dusty roads of the Holy Land, healing the sick, giving sight to the blind, raising the dead to life, disputing with the scribes and pharisees and seeking the lost sheep. Indeed all His journeys seem to have been made on foot, and apparently He thought little of such tedious and difficult climbs as that from Jericho to Jerusalem, where the road rises 3,500 ft., through arid, rocky country under the blistering heat of the sun.

At day’s end Christ slept little, often under the stars. But at first dawn He wa s about, apparently fully refreshed in mind and body after the few hours He allowed Himself. At times-how often we do not know-these hours were devoted to prayer on the mountainside,-”pernoctabat in oratione” (St. Lk. VI, 12).

Since most of His life was spent out of doors, it is not to be wondered that He took a great pleasure in external nature. He loved the hills and the sea, the mountains, the flowers and the birds. Indeed many of His sayings are about these same flowers of the field and birds of the air; about moving mountains or about the life of fishermen. So beautifully does He allude to these things, that, if one did not know he would surely ask, is not this the greatest poet who ever lived? Who is He?

Combined with Christ’s kingliness of character a nd sublimity of mind we find most wonderful humility. As He washes the feet of the apostles, He would teach them and us to learn from Him, not that He is a King, all-powerful or all-pure, but that He is meek and humble of Heart While He is powerful and strong, He is also so gentle, that He would not break the bruised reed; and though He is all-holy and spends many nights on the mountainside in prayer, He forgets not to pass much time with a “wicked and adulterous generation.” How indeed can we explain this majesty and lowliness, this strength and gentleness, this holiness and mercy combined, unless we remember that besides being God He is also Man, the Word Incarnate?

While it is undoubtedly true that the mind of Christ was most sublime, it is also true that He had an eye for the things of every day life. To His disciples He would wish none of the simple joys denied. There was to be no fasting while the Bridegroom was with them. “The Son of Man came eating and drinking and they say; Behold a man that is a glutton and a winedrinker, a friend of publicans and sinners. And wisdom is justified by her children “ (St. Mt. XI, 19). With these and suchlike words He defended their life and His own, refuting criticism on the very lips of those who would speak.

Though Christ’s human Soul had the vision of the Godhead all through His life, nothing escaped Him in day to day matters, and going beyond appearances He had a mind for the heart and core of things. He hated hypocrisy and mock holiness, and so He spoke to the pharisees about “whited sepulchres” and their liking for honour, respect and salutation in the market place. Indeed so factual is the mind of Jesus Christ, that we might reconstruct a picture of life in His time from His parables and sayings; the doing of the merchants and the fishermen, the priests, and even the children playing in the streets. Nothing is missed. Though He had no idea of political revolution, He knew all about the Caesars, Rome, the taxes and the burdens of the people. To one who would temptHim He replied “ Render to Caesar the things that are Caesar’s but to God the things that are God’s” (St. Lk. xxi, 25).

It is of course unnecessary to recall that Our Lord was a hero, -indeed the world’s hero. Everything that He did bore the stamp of heroism. In spite of His constant rejection by priests and people, and even betrayal by His friends, He never gave in. His dying words show implicit confidence in the heavenly Father and in His mission. Indeed He takes heroism as a matter of course, and likewise asks it of His followers. The young man is to leave all things and follow Him; another is told to let the dead bury the dead; yet another that he must hate father and mother; others still, to sell what they have, give to the poor and come after Him. First things must come first, and neither sentiment nor attachment may hold a man back. For His own part, though the world has never seen such magnificent, inspiring and generous love, He preserves it quite unmixed with any trace of either sentimentality or softness. When occasion demands He can be ruthless. Is it not from the lips of the loving Saviour that we hear words which wither up a fig tree, because it bears no fruit?

But of all the characters of history, Christ stands out as a leader of men. He had but to summon to be followed enthusiastically; “And immediately, leaving their nets, they followed Him” (Mk. I, 18). And while He evoked love and enthusiasm, He could at the same time command both obedience and deep respect. The gospel tells us that on one occasion, while the disciples followed Him they were afraid. When they faltered or showed foolishness He could chide and reprove, sometimes sternly. When Peter, in an excess of love and solicitude for the Master’s welfare, would stand between Christ and His cross, he was told, “ Get behind me Satan, for thou art a scandal to Me.” Yes, even the multitude feared Him and fled before Him when, knotting some ropes, He drove the buyers and sellers from the temple, because they profaned the Father’s House. No wonder the people, admiring His authority, asked, “Who is this man?” Is He Elias? Jeremias? One of the prophets come to life?

Writers and preachers have filled the books of the world with the theme of the Good Shepherd. Artists have exhausted every aspect of Christ and the sinner. That is as it should be. But to understand a little of His boundless love and mercy we must not forget, that His mind was saturated with knowledge and understanding of human nature. He knew men at their best and at their worst, at their highest and at their lowest, and His sympathy was wider and deeper than the combined oceans of the world: infinite as God and unsurpassable as Man. Like the good Samaritan, His Sacred Heart melted at the sight of the poor man robbed of grace, dying in his sins by the roadside of life. What wonderful stories He told on this theme The Prodigal Son, the lost sheep, the labourers in the vineyard and a host of others. He sought neither a man’s wealth nor influence. He was dazzled neither by rank nor arrogance. He wanted the human heart-the heart of the sinner. His kingdom was, ever will be that of hearts and souls. “ Behold,” He might well have said, “I stand at the door and knock” (Apoc. III, 20).

What mere human pen could dare to write of Our Lord’s interior 1ife? Were a writer to try, he would find himself lost in the greatest of all mysteries, that of the Blessed Trinity. Nevertheless one thing can be said without fear of contradiction: for Christ, the Father and the Father’s Will was His world and His reality. That Will was the motive force in everything He thought, said or did. Since as God He possessed perfect union with the Father and the Holy Ghost in the Blessed Trinity, and as Man He enjoyed the beatific Vision of the Godhead, there was no place, in our sense, for prayer. Often He claimed that He was not alone, and that He and the Father were one. In this perfect completeness He needed neither the company nor the advice of any man. He needed neither possessions, applause nor profit; neither family life, honours nor advancement. In the Father He was rich in everything. Did He not renounce even His holy Mother, and the consolation of Her perfect service, for the Father’s mission?

This is our sinless Saviour Who neither trafficked with temptation nor acted on impulse. He is it Who offers each one of us an undying friendship, throughout ages without end. Well might we re-echo the words of St. Augustine when we think about it:

“O Beauty, ever ancient, ever new, too late have I loved Thee!”

II. THE REVELATION OF DIVINE LOVE THROUGH THE HEART OF CHRIST

According to a well-known story, a certain bishop was examining the boys for confirmation, when the following dialogue took place.

His Lordship:”Three Persons in one God? That seems strange to me. I can’t quite understand that?

Small boy:”You are not supposed to, My Lord. It’s a mystery

Yes, the Blessed Trinity is a mystery, but one important aspect we do know.

The Heavenly Father contemplating His own all-perfect Essence from eternity, generates the Word. As a human word is the expression of an idea in the mind of some person, so the Word of God is the expression of the Father’s contemplation from all eternity. Now God is so admirable and so perfect that, seeing Himself, He must necessarily love Himself with an infinite love. This love is the Holy Ghost, the Spirit of Love, by which both Father and Son mutually love one another from all eternity. Of this, namely the Holy Ghost, St. Francis de Sales writes in his Traité de l’Amour de Dieu:

“If human friendship can be so agreeable and even delicious, what can one say on seeing the exercise of this reciprocal Love of Father for Son and Son for Father? With what admiration and ecstacy would our hearts be filled?

As however this exercise is, of its nature, not for us here below, God has chosen, if one may put it so, to simplify matters for us, by sending His Only-begotten Son into the world, to take a body and soul like ours, and to live a human life.

Now it is all very well to talk about the love of God in an abstract or speculative way, but poor human nature needs something concrete, something tangible. How for example can one know the magnificent idea in the mind of the artist, unless he expresses it on canvas or in sculpture? Even when he does so, owing to the human limitation of skill, it will not fully and perfectly correspond with the ideal existing in his thoughts. He will be dissatisfied with his own execution and technique. The finished work does not come up to his ideal. Still, as we lookat the work we say, “What a beautiful picture! What a wonderful statue!” It has revealed something to us. But God’s skill is not limited, and so for us the love of Jesus Christ is divine Love in tangible form. We can read about it and hear about it. In the gospel we have not only the words and actions of Love, but also Its attitude towards certain things and Its very thoughts! For the Jews of old God was a hidden God, but as He did not wish to remain hidden from us He decreed the Incarnation, and so “the Word was made flesh and dwelt amongst us.”

But that was only a beginning. The Saviour proved His love in His life. In a certain sense as Man, that love grew stronger from day to day. The enthusiastic patriotism of a young man is quite a different and inferior thing to that of the veteran soldier who has campaigned and suffered many wounds for his country. It is quite unnecessary to ask, which is the greater love? The love of the young Virgin Mother bending over the crib at Bethlehem is quite a different, and one might add, inferior love, to that of the Mater Dolorosa, standing by the cross. Thirty-three years of work and suffering have deepened Her attachment to, and Her love of Her divine Son. So too by His life and suffering, Christ as God, proved His unbounded love for us; and as Man deepened and strengthened it. Every time He smiled, spoke, walked, worked miracles, His deed, actuated by the Spirit of Love was, both an act of love and a progress in love. His death on the cross was the final proof of His supreme charity. “Greater love than this no man hath, than that a man lay down his life for his friend” (St. Jn. XV, 13).

Often as we hold the crucifix in our hands, we try to think of this crowning token of love. But, though we look at the crucifix, we cannot help wondering if we have ever really seen it? For there are two things about it we find hard to grasp. The first is that the Saviour is nailed to the cross in place of each one of us.

If we could only imagine ourselves in the condemned cell with an execution hanging over us in a day’s time; if in our hands we could picture a message from the governor, informing us that, if we find a substitute to stand on the trap door and take the drop for us, we may have our freedom, then perhaps we might succeed a little in convincing ourselves of the truth that, since the Saviour is nailed to the cross in our place, a crucifix is the symbol of the greatest love we either know, or even can experience.

Secondly we have not the slightest idea of the horrors of this death by crucifixion, and it is only when we read accounts of the dread and ghastly sufferings of men like Blessed Oliver Plunkett or Blessed Edmund Campion, that our mind flies over the centuries to Calvary, and we think of the warm Blood, the Precious Blood of Jesus, shed in love for us!

There is however still another most striking aspect of Christ’s Love, which brings home to us that this is not a thing of yesterday-not merely a happening of two thousand years ago. This is a living; warm, pulsating thing. The activity of Christ’s love is prodigious in our individual lives of every day. No day passes that we do not experience its wisdom, bounty and mercy. There is no personal conflict in which it does not take part. For a conversion for example, there may be a thousand or more such conflicts. In each of these divine Love plays its part, as it does against every temptation and in every victory. There is no phase in life in which it is absent, labouring for our happiness and our eternal success. Just as Christ is prodigal of Himself in the Blessed Eucharist, so too in the hearts of millions of men and women, Christian and pagan, no stone is left unturned. “ . . . Our Saviour, Who will have all men to be saved, and to come to the knowledge of the truth “ (I Tim. II, 4).

The Prophet Ezechiel puts this all very beautifully when he says:

“For thus sayeth the Lord God: Behold I myself will seek my sheep, and will visit them.

As the shepherd visiteth his flock in the day when he shall be in the midst of his sheep that were scattered, so will I visit my sheep, and will deliver them out of all the places where they have been scattered in the cloudy dark day. And I will bring them out from the peoples, and will gather them out of the countries, and will bring them to their own land: and I will feed them in the mountains of Israel, by the rivers, and in all the habitations of the land. I will feed them in the most fruitful pastures, and their pastures shall be in the high mountains of Israel: there shall they rest on the green grass, and be fed in fat pastures upon the mountains of Israel.

I will feed my sheep: and I will cause them to lie down, sayeth the Lord God.

I will seek that which was lost; and that which was driven away, I will bring again: and I will bind up that which was broken, and I will strengthen that which was weak, and that which was fat and strong I will preserve: and I will feed them in judgement. . . . . .

I will save my flock, and it shall be no more a spoil, and I will judge between cattle and cattle.

And I will set up one shepherd over them and he shall feed them. . . . . . .” (Ezechiel xxxiv, II etc.). III. THE REVELATION TO ST. MARGARET MARY ALOCOQUE

“And I will give them a heart to know me, that I am the Lord; and they shall be my people, and I will be their God, because they shall return to me with their whole heart” (Jerm. xxiv, 7).

One might be liable to think that devotion to the Sacred Heart of Our Lord was something relatively new in the Catholic Church, but this is far from the truth. Tertullian and St. Augustine, in their homilies on the creation of Eve from Adam’s rib, speak of the Church, born from the side of Christ, opened by the spear, as being prefigured by this passage of Genesis. In St. Athanasius we read: “Of all the wounds of Our Saviour, none is comparable to that of His side, from which issued blood and water. As by the woman who was formed from the side of the first man, came the fall, so also Redemption and Reparation have come to us from the open side of the second Adam. Redemption by blood, and purification by water.” Indeed it was common teaching in the early church, as recalled by Pius XII in his encyclical Mystici Corporis, that the Church was born of the eternal love of God, from the pierced Heart of Jesus Christ. So speak St. Ambrose, St. John Chrysostom, St. Bonaventure and many others. From these days to our own, there have been numerous apostles of the devotion to Christ’s Sacred Heart, of whom it is sufficient to mention St. Mechtilde, St. Gertrude and St. John Eudes.

St. Margaret Mary Alocoque is however the apostle of the cult as we know it, and it should prove helpful to trace briefly the extraordinary and beautiful story of Paray le Monial.

The seventeenth century is noteworthy, amongst other things, for the appearance of the heretic Jansen, who was born in 1638. Like many other heresies, his teachings contained a great deal of truth: they were almost true He claimed that God is so holy, so pure, so spotless and immaculate, and man is so sinful, impure and full of moral corruption, that he never could be worthy to kneel at the altar rails and receive God into his heart at Holy Communion. This of course is true: no one, no matter how saintly, could be worthy to receive Jesus Christ in the Blessed Eucharist. But Jansen overlooked, or he forgot or disregarded the wish of Our Lord,Who said, “Take and eat” and, “ Do this in commemoration of me” (St. Jn. xxii, 19). Or again “ He that eateth this bread shall live forever” (St. Jn. VI, 59). Under the conditions then of being free from mortal sin, fasting according to the laws of the Church and having a right intention, Holy Communion is not only permissible, but it is a command of Christ’s which He wishes fulfilled.

But Jansen’s teaching appealed to the rigorists, and through their preaching and example, an added excuse was found for the nonpractising masses, already grown cold in God’s service, and slack in attendance at their religious duties. Others also, in great numbers, commenced to fall away, and so the churches continued to empty on an ever-increasing scale. Sunday Mass was more and more neglected, and prayers and pious practices dropped by ever increasing numbers of the faithful. It looked as if this heresy, already so acceptable to many, was going to spread like a plague over the Church. But of course Christ could not look on and see His plans frustrated, so, in an extraordinary way He countered and overcame this evil thing.

In the centre of France, at a place called Terrau, near Maconais, a little girl, afterwards called Margaret Mary Alacoque, was born in the year 1647. She grew up an extraordinarily holy child, and it is said of her that, at the age of four, she made a vow of chastity. Whether this is true or not is immaterial. When she was twenty-four she begged admission, and was received, into the Visitation convent at Paray le Monial. Margaret was never considered clever, nor would she herself have claimed to be, and she had a facility for making mistakes, that in Ireland would have earned her the adjective “left-handed.”

The little novice, spiritually away ahead of the others, was of course handicapped by her facility for breaking delph and generally getting practical affairs muddled. However she was professed. This did not of course change the character God gave her, or make her more clever or practical. Naturally she found the constant humiliation of her mistakes depressing, thinking herself useless, and imagining that she was not wanted by the other members of the community.

Our Lord of course revealed Himself to her a number of times, but for the sake of brevity and clarity, the revelations, will be pieced together here as if they all happened on the one occasion. Filling in details, according to one’s devotion, the scene may be thought of as follows:

It is a June evening in 1675. Being more than usually depressed, and haunted by that feeling of not being wanted, the young nun kneels in the back bench of the convent chapel. It is almost dark, and the place is very quiet. Before the altar, the flicker of the sanctuary lamp sheds a glow over the tabernacle and the apse. Sister Margaret’s cheeks are moist with tears as she prays: “Lord, nobody wants me! Do You”? Lord, nobody wants me! Do You?.” . . .

As she speaks a wonderful thing happens. It seems to her as if the tabernacle door opens, very quietly and very slowly, and from it there begins to issue a golden cloud of light. Gradually it fills the sanctuary, till even the chapel is flooded with splendour. The wonder on the saint’s face changes to rapture and joy as, to her amazement, a still more extraordinary thing takes place. She seems to see, standing in the centre of this cloud of light, Our Lord Himself in glory: His countenance is shining as with the light of many suns; His garments are white as snow; the wounds in His hands and feet are blazing in majesty. On His face there is a sad, sweet smile. Spellbound she watches as, raising His hands and drawing aside His cloak, He shows her His Heart. Not a word is spoken as she gazes. The Heart is crowned with thorns, surmounted by a little cross enveloped in flames, and pierced with a lance. From the wound so made, one drop of blood oozes forth.

Sister Margaret is struck dumb with delight and amazement. Forgetting all about herself, she is rapt in love and adoration.

Now Jesus speaks. It seems to her that she has never heard any sound more beautiful than His voice. Her heart beats fast with joy, until she hears what He has to say.

“Behold this Heart which\ has so loved men that It has spared Itself nothing, even to exhausting and consuming Itself to testify to them Its love. And in recompense, I receive from the greater part of men nothing but ingratitude, contempt, irreverence, sacrileges and coldness, which they have for Me in the Sacrament of My love. But what is still more painful to Me is, that those who treat Me thus are persons consecrated to Me. . . . . . .”

Such was the scene. Our Lord went on to ask for her love of reparation, to atone for such neglect, and commanded her to tell the world that He wished this love from others also. Sister Margaret demurred. No doubt she pleaded lack of sufficient intelligence and education. Any way she was a cloistered nun. How could she preach this love? But these difficulties were easily solved. Blessed Claude de la Colombiêre, a young Jesuit priest, was given her as helper, and today the devotion is spread all over the world. In all those places in every continent, where the Catholic Church is free to preach her doctrines, the Sacred Heart is loved and honoured. One will scarce find a Catholic church without the wellknown Statue of the Sacred Heart, showing to each worshipper the sad token of His rejected love.

Simply, quietly and without any great external show, God has defeated Jansenism. Wherever the faithful are urged to do as Our Lord asked, the faith is strong, the churches full and the Blessed Sacrament adored. Nowhere is this better seen than in Ireland, for we did not completely escape the chilling breath of Jansenism. But today, owing to the labours of apostolic priests in our midst, amongst whom one might mention Fr. James Cullen, S.J., Christ is ardently loved. It is only necessary to mention the consecration of most Irish homes to the Sacred Heart, the First Friday Communions in every parish, the “Pioneers” and the “Irish Messenger of the Sacred Heart,” which travels each month to every part of the globe, to begin to understand the greatness of this apostolate, but more importantstill, the power of Christ’s love over a Catholic nation.

It can be truly said then, that in the modern world Our Lord has brought about a most remarkable change. This He has done, as must be evident, by changing the individual, strengthening his faith and warming his love. But the battle is not won till every heart is conquered, and this campaign each of us can help, by securing that Christ’s love reigns in our own hearts. What practices, or what plan of action we should adopt to this end, are matters well thought out for us in the so highly recommended Apostleship of Prayer. With its help and inspiration it is possible to deepen our love and come ever closer to Our Lord.

“Heart of Jesus, burning with love for me, inflame my heart with love of Thee.”

IV. THE NATURE OF DEVOTION TO THE SACRED HEART

In order to avoid ambiguity it is necessary to make clear to ourselves, what exactly is the nature of devotion to the Sacred Heart. What precisely does it mean?

The object of the devotion is clearly the Sacred Heart of Jesus Christ, in a double sense. This means the physical Heart in the first place. As Our Lord is both God and Man, His sacred members are all hypostatically united with the Godhead, and therefore His holy Body and its members, whether in life, in the tomb or in heaven, are all worthy of our supreme worship, called by the theologians latria.

In the second place the Heart is the symbol of love. At all times and in all places and among all peoples, the human heart has been considered as the symbol of love. Because the heart is effected by the emotions, it was at one time thought to be their source, beating as it does, faster or slower, according to the emotion experienced. So for us, Christ’s Heart symbolises His excellent, adorable love, both human and divine. Just as the flag of a country recalls all the glories, the sufferings and the triumphs of a people, to the proud heart of one of that country’s subjects, so the Sacred Heart is for us a token or asymbol of the Saviour’s ardent love.

At the same time we do not separate the Heart from the Person. The Heart signifies and sums up the Person of Our Lord, Who is the object of our devotion:

“To conclude,” writes Fr. E. Hugon, O.P., “we adore in the Sacred Heart the physical Heart of Christ, symbol of love and love symbolised: directly the human love, indirectly the divine love, which causes human love to burn; and our cult is directed towards the very Person of Jesus, “loving all and all-lovable, in the Heart which He shows to us and which He offers us.”” (Le mystere de 1”Incarnation, 1921.)

Pius XII, writing in Haurietis Aquas, points out that- “(The) Church accords the cult of supreme worship to the Heart of the divine Redeemer. . . . . for two reasons. The first of these. . . . . is based on the principle that His Heart is hypostatically united to the Person of the divine Word, and therefore entitled to that same cult of adoration with which the Church venerates the Person of the Incarnate” Son of God. . . . . . . .The second reason applies in a special way to the Heart of the divine Redeemer, demanding for it on particular grounds the cult of supreme worship. The basis of this claim is that His Heart, more than any other member of His body, is the natural sign or symbol of His immense charity towards men.”

“Therefore,” he continues elsewhere, “from the physical thing, which the Heart of Christ is, and from its natural significance, we can and must, supported by Christian faith, rise not only to contemplate His love, which is perceived through the senses, but even to meditate on and adore the most sublime infused love, and finally the divine love of the Incarnate word.”

Referring our love back to the Person of the Incarnate Word, he continues:

“Thus the Heart of Our Saviour is a reflection of the divine Person of the Word and also of His twofold nature, human and divine. It not merely symbolises, but sums up in itself the entire mystery of our redemption. When we adore the Most Sacred Heart of Jesus Christ, we adore, in and through it, the uncreated love of the divine Word and also His human love, together with His other emotions and virtues.”

Such, according to theologians, was Our Lord’s intention in revealing to St. Margaret Mary in 1675, the love of His divine Heart. Taking this beautiful symbol, and placing it before our eyes, He asks for two things, love and reparation. In order the more to move ourselves to responding to His appeal, it should prove helpful to consider, first the symbol, and secondly, however briefly, one or two aspects of His love.

The symbol is well known to all from the statues seen in any Catholic church. There is first of all the Heart, from which proceed flames, typifying the intensity of the Saviour’s love. These flames are crowned by a small cross, to remind us that this love proved itself under the most trying of ordeals, namely death “Greater love than this no man hath, than that a man lay down his life for his friend.” Humanly speaking therefore, we have here the token of supreme love. We know no greater. Such love is surpassed alone by the divine, which we can represent to ourselves only by analogy and in a very imperfect manner indeed.

Next we notice that the Heart is encircled by a crown of thorns. This is to remind us of Christ’s unspeakable Passion, in which, in His generosity, He carries alone the load of the sins of the whole world.

Lastly, we see the Heart transfixed by a sword or a spear, and from the wound oozes one single drop of blood. The Fathers of the Church, preachers and spiritual writers, leave us in no doubt about the significance of this feature.

“The Mystical Body of Christ is born from the transfixed Heart of Our Saviour,” are the words of Pius XII in the Encyclical Mystici Corporis.

From all this one can see, that when Our Lord showed this telling and beautiful symbol to St. Margaret Mary, and through her to the world, He was reminding us all of many things which, if they were to be written down would fill books, and even then, owing to technical and theological language, be neither as telling and appealing to the world at large, as the simple and so extraordinarily moving manifestation of His rejected love made at Paray le Monial.

Christ’s love has at least two aspects which must prove most attractive to everyone. His is an undivided and an unselfish love.

When Catholics kneel at the altar-rail for Holy Communion, the priest comes to each and holding aloft the Blessed Sacrament says: “May the Body of Our Lord, Jesus Christ, guard your soul unto life everlasting. Amen.” While he says this he places on the tongue of each the Second Person of the Blessed Trinity made Man, Body and Blood, Soul and Divinity, whole and entire! Each receives the whole Christ, not in any way diminished by what is received by the others. In like manner each of us received the whole love of Christ, as if no other human being ever existed. How is this possible? The answer is that of the catechism-”With God all things are possible, and nothing is difficult to Him.” Surely this is a tremendous thought- all the love of Christ for me

But there is even more to it than that. Christ loves us for ourselves alone, for what we are, and not from any gain or advantage to Himself. Knowing us at our best and our weakest He still loves us.

Some years ago a certain girl, who was engaged to be married, came to her priest for advice. The priest knew her family and herself.

“Father,” she said, “you know of course that I am engaged to be married? But I cannot make up my mind whether Tom loves meor my money! I am troubled, for it would not do for us to make a mistake.”

This would not be the first case, nor will it be the last, of a man marrying for money! But for our purposes it is a good example of the so-called amor concupiscentiae-loving for what one can get, as opposed to the amor benevolentiae-the love of well-wishing, or true love. Our Lord loves each of us with this latter love. He loves us for what we are, and for what He hopes to make of us in heaven. Our happiness and success give Him great joy. Our failure, or sin, causes Him indescribable suffering and anguish. This is of all loves, the purest and most wonderful. Neither father nor mother ever had an affection to compare with this love of the Being Who is both God and Man, Jesus Christ.

Now two things are abundantly clear. The Heart of Christ was often bruised by the sin and ill-success of those He loved. In some mysterious way sin still strikes at His Godhead, and so He asks for atonement, called Reparation. Which of us could refuse this atonement to Our Loving Friend? An enthusiastic love, burning daily in our hearts, inspires us to all those acts, proposed by the Apostleship of Prayer-prayers and acts of love, Mass and Holy Communion.

V. SOME PROMISES OF THE SACRED HEART

The twelve promises which we find in prayer-books and manuals of devotion, are taken from the writings of St. Margaret Mary. Her writings contain many other promises also, and the twelve are not even a summary of them all, but they are taken as the twelve best calculated to arouse sentiments of love in the hearts of the faithful, and to induce them to practise the devotion.

In a sense there is nothing new about them. They are prefigured even in the Old Testament:

“All you that thirst, come to the waters; and you that have no money make haste, buy and eat. . . . Incline your ear and come to me; hear, and your soul shall live, and I will make an everlasting covenant with you . . . Seek ye the Lord while He may be found; call upon Him while He is near. Let the wicked forsake his way, and the unjust man his thoughts, and let him return to the Lord, and He will have mercy on him . . for He is bountiful to forgive . . . You shall go out with joy, and be led forth with peace; the mountains and the hills shall sing praise before you, and all the trees of the country shall clap their hands. Instead of the shrub shall come up the fir tree, and instead, of the nettle shall come up the myrtle tree; and the Lord shall be named for an everlasting sign, that shall not be taken away” (Is. lv).

Thus did God promise the Jews the bounty and mercy of Christ, the Way, the Truth and the Life. In even more precise terms Our Lord promises mercy, love, success and heaven, in the Sermon on the Mount and elsewhere. The words therefore of the Sacred Heart to St. Margaret Mary are a re-affirmation of the divine plan for our salvation: God wishes all men to be saved.

In the space at our disposal it would be impossible to take all the promises and deal with them in detail, but four can be considered with profit.

1. . . .”it is by this means that the Sacred Heart of Our Loving Saviour wishes to save many souls from eternal perdition.”

St. Margaret Mary gives numerous examples of how the devotion brought about the conversion of sinners in her own experience. Any priest will bear out, from his dealings with souls, that those who can be got to love and honour Our Lord, cannot long remain in their sins.

There are few, if any Catholics, who would make so bold as to say they were not sinners, since the just man is said to fall seven times a day! They would have it otherwise, and they would at least wish they could be good. There can be no surer way to this end than by a boundless enthusiasm for the cause of the Sacred Heart, in our own souls and in those of others. “Nothing,” says the saint, “ is sweeter, nothing gentler, and at the same time stronger or more efficacious, than the sweet unction of the ardent charity of this loving Heart to convert the most hardened sinners.

2. “Devotion to the Sacred Heart is a sovereign remedy against tepidity.”

No one is more exposed to this dread spiritual disease of tepidity, than the person who seriously strives to be good. Alas, as everyone knows, it can eat into the very vitals of our spiritual life. Sometimes it is brought about through monotony, discouragement, or even laziness or self-love, but it is always highly dangerous. If it is not quickly shaken off, it brings with it great peril, even to our eternal salvation. The very least that can be said about it is that, at best, it greatly diminishes our heavenly glory and reward.

Here then are the words of the saint:

“Our Lord wishes through this devotion to His divine Heart, to rekindle the charity that has grown cold and has almost been extinguished in the hearts of the greater part of Christians; He wishes to give men means of loving by His Sacred Heart, as much as He desires and merits, and of making reparation for their ingratitude. If we are cowardly, cold, impure, imperfect, the Sacred Heart is an ardent furnace where we must purify and perfect ourselves like gold in the crucible. It will purify all that is imperfect in our actions, and sanctify those that are good.”

3.”I will give priests the power of touching the most hardened hearts.”

In a sense we are all priests. Whether lay or clerical, all of us must work for the salvation of other souls. There is no such thing as going to heaven alone; just as there is no such thing as not influencing others for evil. Either we are striving for heaven and bringing others with us, or inversely, we are dragging others down. All good Catholics then partake in the priesthood of Jesus Christ. Indeed, even in Ireland, there are very few families where there is no “black sheep” to be con- verted. So much is this so, that many people frequently complain of their lack of success. If they only knew the secret And who can understand this better than the priest, who must daily visit the black sheep of the parish, so often without success. As doors close in his face, and as he drags his weary footsteps to the next case, he cannot but feel, that if the love of Christ were really burning in his heart, his plea would be well-nigh irresistible.

4.”I promise you in the excessive mercy of My Heart, that Its all -powerful love will grant to those who receive Holy Communion on nine first Fridays of the month consecutively, the grace of final repentance: they will not die under My displeasure or without receiving their Sacraments. My divine Heart making Itself their assured refuge at the last moment.”

There is in this, the Great Promise, the difficulty of reconciling it with Catholic teaching, that no one can be sure of final perseverance. There is, according to Fr. Lawson, S.J. (The Nine Fridays,. . . . , London), the moral certainty of persevering to the end, keeping the faith and dying in the state of grace.

But perhaps the best answer one can give is contained in the two following, facts:

It has often been noticed that many who make the Fridays, keep the practice up all their lives, and it is pretty generally accepted, that those who worthily receive the Sacraments monthly “never go far wrong,” as the saying has it.

The second fact needs nocomment, bearing out as it does, Our Lord’s own words.

A certain priest who had been in charge of a Sacred Heart Confraternity for over thirty years, could tell a brother priest:

“Father, I have been over thirty years in charge of this Confraternity. In that time I have assisted at many death-beds and many funerals in this big parish-I should say, about five hundred in all. This I can truthfully say, on the evidence of my own experience; I have never known a faithful member of my Confraternity to die either an unhappy death or without the Sacraments!”

VI

GENEROUS LOVE: THE DEDICATION OF A LIFE TO THE SACRED HEART

To specially chosen souls, the Sacred Heart holds out the most difficult and most perfect way of friendship and atonement for sin, namely the religious life, or the way of evangelical perfection. We read in the gospel of a certain young man, of apparently generous disposition who, while keeping the commandments, is anxious to go further and signalise himself in the service and love of God. To him Christ says:

“If thou wilt be perfect, go sell what thou hast, give to the poor, and come follow Me” (St. Mt. 19, 16). The programme was however too much for him, for he walked away and we hear of him no more. Of course the close following of the Sacred Heart is hard: for the apostles it meant martyrdom for all, except St. John.

For a religious it means dying to the world, out of love of Jesus. St. Ignatius Loyola, writing to his followers, expressed the wish that they should be men “crucified to the world, to whom the world also is crucified.” This generous and loving “crucifixion”“ is of course brought about by the vows of poverty, chastity and obedience, which a religious takes at the end of his noviceship.

Christ, some say, was nailed to the cross with three nails: one through the right hand, the second through the left and the third through the feet.

With the right hand a man gives and receives gifts and money. By the vow of poverty a religious nails that hand to the cross. He may neither give nor accept money or presents, without the permission of his superior.

The left hand is nearest to the heart. It is sometimes stated that, from the third finger of the left hand an artery connects directly with the heart, and hence on that finger a woman wears her wedding ring. A religious centres his affections and interests on Christ, when, through the vow of chastity, he nails that hand also to the cross.

By the use of his feet a man walks. He can betake himself hither and thither, even to the ends of the earth at his own sweet will. Binding himself to the will of the superior, a man restrains his activities, curbs his own will, to go from place to place, to take part in this or that work. And so the vow of obedience completes the crucifixion with Christ on the cross. What more wonderful following could there be? How could a man love more, unless he too spill his blood for Christ in martyrdom?

These three virtues were loved and practised by the Sacred Heart.

He was born in poverty-in a cattle lair. His foster father was poor. His Mother was a country working Girl. His life was lived in poverty, for He had not whereon to lay His head. He died on the gibbet of the cross, a forsaken outlaw, and was buried in another man’s tomb. For us He feared riches and. warned-”It is easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle, than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God” (St. Lk. 18, 25).

So, down through the ages, in order to have nothing come between themselves and the love of Jesus, holy men have run away from, and forsaken their riches. They felt that if they were to be in any sense worthy companions of Christ, they could not follow in wealth, comfort and ease, while their Friend lived in near-destitution.

Of course non-believers have said strange things about Our Lord. Some said He was mad; others that He was not the Son of God; others still that He neither died nor rose from the dead, and so on. But no one has ever cast the slightest shadow of doubt on his immaculate chastity. His close friends were the pure and the chaste-Our Lady, St. Joseph and St. John. Even Mary Magdalen could not become His friend, till she had cast aside her sins and self-indulgence.

For the pure Christ has the highest praise and the highest reward. As God He understands what devotedness and fixity of purpose; what love and what self-sacrifice it demands of poor, fallen human nature. At the same time we cannot imagine anyone desiring to be His close friend, and achieving this wish, unless he be chaste. Of course cleanness of heart means many things, as the Scripture scholars are not slow to remind us, but one cannot escape having the feeling, that Our Lord was thinking specially and lovingly of the pure when He said: “Blessed are the clean of heart for they shall see God!”

Is there need to speak of obedience? The Boy Christ, going down to Nazareth, was from His earliest years, subject to Joseph and Mary. In His life everything is ordered according to His Father’s Will-even to the very death on the cross.

What then can one say of the man or woman who so loves Jesus Christ, as to take up His yoke and His burden? That they find it sweet and light, we take from the lips of Christ Himself. This however can be said with truth: there can be no more generous love, and no more perfect way of serving the Sacred Heart and-is it necessary to add?-no more infallible way of calling down every grace and blessing on home, family and self. God has not yet been outdone in generosity, and he who gives all receives the full measure, pressed down, shaken together and flowing over.

Who else, if we exclude the martyrs, can say with deeper meaning than the religious:

“SACRED HEART OF JESUS, I PLACE ALLMY TRUST IN THEE”

NIHIL OBSTAT:

JEREMIAS HAYES, S.J. CENSOR THEOL. DEPUT

IMPRIMI POTEST:

@ IOANNES CAROLUS, Archiep. Dublinen., Hiberniae Primas.

DUBLINI, die 4 Junii, 1958.

********

But Dear!

ANNONYMOUS

INDEX

COMING FROM DIFFERENT BACKGROUNDS, A HUSBAND AND WIFE DO NOT VIEW ALL OF LIFE’S PROBLEMS IN THE SAME WAY. THEY HAVE DIFFERENT IDEAS ON HOW MONEY SHOULD BE SPENT, HOW THE HOUSEHOLD SHOULD BE RUN, ON HEALTH HABITS, RECREATION, EATING. SLEEPING AND MANY OTHER ACTIVITIES OF DAILY LIFE. NO COUPLE CAN REASONABLY HOPE TO LIVE TOGETHER IN A CONTINUOUSLY SERENE ATMOSPHERE UNBROKEN BY DISAGREEMENTS. WE ALL PREFER TO DO THINGS IN CERTAIN WAYS, AND THESE PREFERENCES PLUS OUR WEAKNESSES OF CHARACTER MAKE IT CERTAIN THAT ANY TWO PERSONS WILL HAVE SOME DIFFERENCES. HOWEVER, THERE ARE NO DIFFERENCES, NO MATTER WHAT THEIR SERIOUSNESS. WHICH CANNOT BE HANDLED ON A PEACEFUL BASIS. EVEN IF THE PROBLEM IS ONE THAT IS VITALLY IMPORTANT TO BOTH OF YOU, YOU CAN RESOLVE IT IN A CALM, AFFECTIONATE WAY AND THUS STRENGTHEN THE BONDS OF YOUR MARRIAGE. ON THE OTHER HAND, IF YOUR APPROACH INVOLVES BITTERNESS AND STUBBORNNESS, YOU MAY NOT ONLY FAIL TO SOLVE YOUR PROBLEMS, BUT EVEN ADD DEEP AND LONG-REMEMBERED WOUNDS.

Mature husbands and wives disagree; they do not fight. There is a difference -the difference between a happy marriage and one with an underlying fabric of tension and bitterness. Discussions of disagreements are the friendly way to reconcile different backgrounds and experiences so that you can work together to achieve your common goal. Fights tear apart the unity of marriage; they are the means each spouse uses to gain his own way without considering the other partner. They lead to name-calling, taking up of the past, a spirit of hatred. Therefore one of the most important ways to insure married happiness is to learn the art of disagreeing in a friendly way. You can acquire this skill by mastering nine principles.

1. Don’t blow up trivial differences. Dozens of minor irritations occur in everyone’s life every day. Overlook them! Don’t make an issue of them. Your wife does not have the breakfast toast ready with the eggs: your husband drops his pajamas on the bedroom floor and neglects to hang them up before he leaves for work; your wife invited friends to dinner last Saturday and forgot to tell you until Saturday afternoon—all these occurrences are trivial. Yet these incidents were sparks in actual marriages and set off fires that were not extinguished until there had been agonising hours of charge and counter-charge, accusation and counteraccusation. name-calling and recrimination.

It seems obvious, yet all of us must constantly remind ourselves that we are not perfect. Your spouse’s habits may irritate you, but you doubtless whenever the question arose or could have urged her have habits which are also minor irritants. Do you expect your spouse to correct, annoying mannerisms? Then prepare, in justice, to correct your own. Would you rather keep your habits because they give you pleasure? Then extend the same privilege to your spouse.

If any incident upsets you, ask yourself if any harm results because things are not done your way. If so, mention the incident to your partner in an affectionate way. Two wives add too much starch to shirt collars when laundering them. One husband shouts. “When are you going to learn how to starch a shirt?” The second husband puts his arm around his wife and says, “Honey, my neck is growing more sensitive to stiff collars.” Which wife will correct her error more willingly?

2. If you have a grievance, get it out of your system . Psychologists say that the person who continually suppresses deep anger creates a reservoir of resentment which may ultimately break out in a violent form. In a typical case, a book-keeper employed by a large corporation was continually urged by his father-in-law to seek a position as a department head. The young man did not feel qualified for the position. At first, he simply smiled when his father-inlaw mentioned the matter. But whenever they met, the older man asked, “Did you get that job yet?” The bookkeeper began to see this prodding as a reflection on his own judgment. He seethed inwardly. One day, his wife mentioned that they had been invited to her parents” home for Sunday dinner. He exploded with a barrage of invective against her father. She responded by dredging up complaints against his relatives. The battle did not end until dozens of old wounds in their relationship were reopened. It is now fifteen years later, but both partners feel resentment toward each other when they recall the hateful things said that day.

The situation would have been avoided if the husband had told his wife promptly that he felt annoyed at her father’s suggestion because he the husband, was in a better position to decide when he should bid for a promotion. If he had pleasantly explained his feelings, she could have supported him whenever the question arose or could have urged her father to drop the subject. But by keeping his feelings to himself, the husband built up anger that was certain to explode, eventually.

A habit that weakens many marriages the habit of pouting also can be averted by bringing grievances into the open. Instead of telling his wife what irritates him, the pouter retreats into martyred, sulky, silence. He realises that the annoyance is not important enough to justify his actions and that he will appear silly if he mentions it. But he enjoys the self-pity in which he clothes himself.

If you are a pouter, you especially need to apply principles one and two: if the matter is trivial, pass over it. But if it continues to irritate you. bring it out into the open.

3. Always guard your tongue .For more than forty years, Father John A. O”Brien has advocated a way to enable couples to settle disputes without rancour. He states that this technique can reduce the number of estrangements by fifty per cent or more. He has seen it carry thousands of couples through difficulties which otherwise would have overwhelmed them. In addition, it has prevented heartaches and deepened happiness in countless marriages.

After every wedding in which he officiates. Father O”Brien explains in his book, Happy Marriage, he takes the couple aside and tells them:

“In an impressive ceremony you have just pronounced your vow of conjugal fidelity and I know you will keep it. There is another vow which is scarcely less important in safeguarding the happiness of your wedded life. I almost hesitate to suggest it to a couple who have just plighted their deathless love. It is implicit in that vow, of course, but it is well to make it explicit: to promise each other that no matter what difficulties arise you wall not speak an angry word to each other.

“Right now you can scarcely conceive of differences arising between you; but they will arise, for you are only human. There is no difficulty, no divergence, no matter how serious, however, w hich can’t be settled if you will bring to it mutual understanding, goodwill, and, holding hands, talk it over in a calm, friendly manner. Similarly, there is no difference, no matter how trivial, which can be settled unless you bring to it sympathetic understanding and a willingness to talk it over in a friendly spirit.

“Are you willing, then, to promise that, no matter what provocation may arise, you will never stab each other with sharp angry words but will discuss any differences in a calm, friendly manner?”

Father O”Brien adds, “Never have I had a couple refuse.” Then I have them pronounce a second vow of matrimony: “I solemnly promise always to speak in a kind, friendly, and affectionate manner to my beloved wife (husband) and never to utter an angry, mean, bitter, or spiteful word that would hurt and wound her (him). So help me God.”

“My whole ministry has been spent among young people on the campuses of three universities Illinois, Oxford, and Notre Dame. For forty years I have mingled intimately with tens of thousands of young people at three large universities, listened to their problems, heard the cry of their hearts reaching out, wistfully for friendship and love, introduced thousands of young couples, married great numbers, and followed them in their enlarging family life. Never have I heard of one such marriage hitting the rocks or even being clouded by serious domestic strife.”

When you discover your emotional temperature rising, also remember that the subject is not worth angry words. If you have been married for several years or longer, try to recall subjects over which you had bitter words in your first year together. Probably only in rare cases can you do so. How many of the specific subjects that you recall remain a major issue in your marriage? If you are like the typical couple, you will recall few specific disagreements worthy of the intense language you may have used in discussing them. But this is the key test: You probably remember the harsh, cutting words spoken by your spouse in anger although you have forgotten what caused the argument in the first place.

Guarding your tongue requires diligent practice. The ancient Greek philosopher Epictetus advised,”Reckon the days in which you have not been angry. I used to be angry every day; then every other day; then every third and fourth day; and if you miss it as long as thirty days, offer a sacrifice of thanksgiving toGod.”

4. Keep discussions within bounds. When arguments get acrimonious, it is usually because this rule is not observed. When the monthly statements arrive, John sees a bill for a woman’s hat at fifteen dollars and asks Joan if she bought it. Perhaps feeling guilty over buying something she did not need and no longer even likes, she admits that she did. But to justify herself, she recalls the time John met some friends at a restaurant and insisted upon paying the large bill for the entire party. John recalls Joan’s expensive winter coat which she can no longer bear to wear. She mentions the vacation two years ago when John lost eighty dollars at a race track. Unchecked the discussion moves to the spending habits of the in-laws and of every neighbour on the block. What began as a simple question not even a difference of opinion suddenly got out of hand because Joan and John failed to keep the discussion within the limits first set for it.

Judging from comments of husbands, this inability to stick to the subject is a common failing of wives. But men are guilty too. We all have a powerful sense of self-defence and we recognise that in war the best defence is a good offence. When facing a situation in which we are wrong, we tend to cover our defects quickly by pointing to the other’s shortcomings. This may be good military strategy but it is poor marital strategy.

If you must defend your actions, only two conclusions are generally possible you are either wrong or right. If you are wrong, why not admit it and let the matter rest there? If you are right, why not defend yourself solely in terms of the subject under discussion, explaining your actions as calmly and pleasantly as you can? After your explanation, if your spouse disagrees with your reason, at least you both will realise that there was a logical basis for what you did. And you will have kept, the area of difference as small as it was in the beginning.

5. If you must criticise, criticise the act—not your spouse for performing it . One wise couple had developed this principle to a fine art. When the bathroom tap continued to leak for months, the wife complained about the high water bills-never her husband’s laziness in failing to repair it. If his socks remained unmended, the husband commented upon his discomfort when wearing them-never upon his wife’s fault as a housekeeper. Of course, their criticisms of actions diminished over the years, because both were willing to correct conditions called to their attention in flat inoffensive way. Their egos were not involved, so they did not feel it necessary to defend themselves.

What if your husband or wife has shortcomings which require direct correction? Take a tip from corporation executives who have mastered the science of getting the most out of people: Always precede serious criticism with a statement of genuine appreciation for some good quality. You feel both; express both. Don’t speak out only when you have something negative to say.

6. Keep disagreements between yourselves . Never carry them outside to in-laws, friends, or neighbours. In every good marriage, the husband and wife always feel free to communicate their innermost thoughts to each other. Often they make statements which, if repeated out of context, would make them appear foolish, vicious, or worse. If you repeat your spouse’s confidential statements and hold him up to ridicule to outsiders he will not speak freely to you again. The precious art of communication will be lost.

Sometimes young wives report quarrels to the husband’s mother or father. They could hardly conceive of a more effective way to feed the flames. The typical husband will be angrier than before when he learns that his wife is trying to align his family against him and angrier still if they agree with her.

7. Give in on little things. Because of your particular background, you have stronger convictions about certain aspects of life than upon others. So, too, has your spouse. Considerate partners give in on matters on which their spouses feel much more strongly than they.

One man was taught as a boy that it would hurt his health to sleep during the winter with the window open. His wife had slept with the windows open as a child, but she did not feel strongly on the subject. After marriage, when the question of open or shut windows arose, there could have been a prolonged argument. Disputes over this issue, in fact, have reached the courts in the form of divorce suits. However, the wife wisely recognised that her husband had powerful convictions and she did not care strongly enough to make an issue of it.

A typical husband “blows his top” over trifles. He explodes if his wife misplaces his cuff links or delays dinner a few minutes, or if the teenagers turn up the radio volume while he pours over his newspaper. The wise wife knows that his anger will disappear rapidly if she remains quiet. But if she chooses to dispute him, a full-scale battle may be under way. Even if his anger is completely unjustified, she gets more constructive results by waiting until he can discuss the problem calmly. After their anger subsides, most husbands will admit that they were wrong in losing their tempers.

A humorous story illustrates the point that husbands and wives should remain silent amid the other’s outbursts. An eighty-year old man appeared at a doctor’s office for a check-up. After examining the man from head to toe, the doctor remarked that he was in excellent physical condition.

“One thing is responsible for my good health.” the man explained. “Sixty years ago, when Ellen and I were married, we made a promise to each other. Whenever I got angry, she was to leave the room immediately and do her housework elsewhere. When she got angry, I was to leave the house and take a long walk until she cooled off.

“And, Doc,” the man added “for sixty years I’ve had the greatest outdoor life you ever did see.”

To apply this principle of living in on little things, you must reject the false notion that marriage is a “fifty-fifty proposition.” At times you will demand ninety per cent, whether you are aware of it or not. At other times, you will be asked to give the ninety per cent. But marriage is not a ball game with a score keeper. It does not matter whether you get forty per cent today and sixty per cent tomorrow, or even whether you continually provide more than an exact fifty per cent. The important thing is that your contribution and your spouse’s contribution add up to one hundred per cent.

However, there is a way for you to determine whether you demand too much from your spouse. If you frequently disagree with other people too, perhaps you habitually expect too much and give too little. Occasionally a strongwilled man cannot make or hold friends because he constantly demands his own way. At home, all is tranquillity. This peace is almost always due to the wife’s spirit of self-sacrifice which enables her to bow to him as a matter of course.

8. Develop an outlet. As certain as death and taxes is the fact that sometimes you will be frustrated in your marriage. Despite your best intentions, and even when you discuss disagreements in a temperate way, you and your spouse sometimes will fail to see eye to eye. Perhaps you suppress a deep sense of futility over your spouse’s inability to see a problem from your logical point of view. You feel that you must vent your feelings on something.

For your mental and physical health, work off anger or frustration by engaging in physical activity sweeping the sidewalk, walking to the post office, transplanting your shrubs, washing the car. One man has a wood-working shop in his basement. In moments of frustration, he retires to his shop and pounds boards for hours. Often after such exercise, he can appreciate that his wife’s opinion rests on a logical basis. Whenever problems with her husband reach a stalemate, a certain wife mops the kitchen and bathroom floors; her hard work helps her feel less tense and more willing to view matters from his position.

Whenever you seem unable to settle your problem after a reasonable period of discussion, postpone further talk about it for a while. Attend evening devotions or take a walk together. You will often be surprised at the new outlook you acquire after giving the subject a rest.

9. Never let bitterness carry over the night. Even if you cannot agree, give each other the benefit of good intentions. Kiss each other good night. This simple, tender act at the end of each day ensures starting the next one on a loving basis. You will be less inclined to spend a restless night brooding, and often you will awaken with a new understanding of your problem. Moreover, if discussion is renewed it will be on a friendly basis.

It is not always easy to prevent rancour from entering into your disagreements. Habits of name calling, raking over old coals, using sarcasm and ridicule to gain one’s way perhaps must be unlearned. Making progress may be a slow process, But it will be worthwhile. For if you truly follow the principles outlined above and learn to resolve your differences in an atmosphere of affection and mutual respect, you will develop a deeper love for each other than you ever had before.

When serious conflict persists over a long period of time and threatens the stability of the home itself, then a trained marriage counsellor ought to be consulted. Sometimes one of the parties, usually the husband, even when he may be more sinned against than sinning, strongly resists taking his problems elsewhere. But the wise man is never so stiff-necked as to prefer a broken home or an unhappy home to an honest airing of differences before a neutral and skilled listener.

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By Whose Authority?

BY ALBERT P. HOLDEN

INDEX

LIFE HAS A PURPOSE

Without a purpose life would become a mere existence, for it is purpose that makes life what it is. The people we admire, our country’s heroes, for example, became worthy of our admiration because they saw always before them the ideals after which they strove. The saints of God, too, the heroes of the Kingdom of Heaven, reached the heights of sanctity because they strove, with God’s help, to attain the purpose for which they were created-the salvation of their soul. So, too, in a lesser degree, with everyone around us, if they are to be worthy of our admiration it is because they have a purpose to strive after. No one admires the person who is content to drift aimlessly through life. For them is experienced only a feeling of mild contempt.

If then it is expected of the ordinary man that he should have a purpose in life, should have some object after which he should strive, what then of the most perfect of mankind? What of the one who was not only the most perfect of the sons of men ‘, but who was also true God? Can we not naturally expect that He, Whose coming was prophesied for thousands of years, whose coming began a new era in the world’s history, whose influence has moulded the minds and thoughts of mankind for the last two thousand years, had some sublime purpose which caused Him to take upon Himself a human nature?

CHRIST’S PURPOSE IN LIFE

We are not left in doubt as to what that purpose was which the Son of God came to attain. The prophet Daniel foretold of Him, that He would come that “Sin may have an end” (Dan. ix. 24); and the angel said to Joseph “and thou shalt call his name Jesus. For he shall save his people from their sins” (Matt. i. 21); again at the commencement of His public ministry John the Baptist seeing Him coming. exclaimed “Behold the Lamb of God who taketh away the sins of the world” (Jn. i. 29). Then as the ministry was drawing to a close He Himself said to His apostles “ If I had not come and spoken to them, they would not have sin: but now they have no excuse for their sin. He that hateth me hateth my Father also.” (Jn. xv. 22–23).

Christ came as the Light of the world to enlighten the darkness of mankind, and that darkness was sin.

HOW CHRIST FULFILLED THAT PURPOSE:

The life of Christ, however, was not to be solely one of destruction. True, He came to destroy sin, but also He came to restore to health those souls which had been cured of that dread disease. A doctor could not count his work completed if he merely drove disease from the body. Only when the health is built up again is his work finished. During His lifetime Christ referred to Himself as the Physician of Souls (Matt. ix. 12)., Yet from an ordinary doctor is expected a definite way of curing ills. We do not expect him to work in any haphazard manner. So, too, with Christ, He had a definite way in which He worked the cure of souls, and this method can best be seen in the Gospel story of Mary Magdalen.

Christ, we are told, was at dinner in the house of Simon the Pharisee, and at the end of the meal, as was the custom, the doors were thrown open that the poor might come in and gather up the fragments that remained. Imagine the surprise of everyone, when amongst them was seen Mary Magdalen, a woman notorious for her sins, an outcast with whom no ordinary person would associate. They stare at her in amazement. It is obvious that she, since she is rich, is not there for the fragments of food. She pushes her way through the crowd until she comes to where Jesus sits.

As she passes, the guests draw their garments round them, lest they should be contaminated by her touch. As she comes to the place where sits the ‘Friend of sinners’ she hesitates a moment, then with her eyes blinded by tears falls at His feet. The crowd look on with dignified disapproval. She, however, is oblivious to them. With her tears she washes the sacred Feet, drying them with her hair, and anointing them with ointment. The Pharisees are scandalized and think within themselves: Surely this man cannot be the prophet he claims to be, otherwise he would know what manner of woman this is. Why, no decent man will associate with her, and yet here is this man who claims to be the Messias allowing her to touch him.

Christ, being God, read their thoughts, turned to His host and said: “Simon, I have somewhat to say to thee,” and Simon, no doubt thinking that He would justify Himself, said: “Master, say it.”

“A certain man,” said Christ, “had two debtors, the one owed five hundred pence and the other fifty. And whereas they had not wherewith to pay it, he forgave them both. Which, therefore, of the two loveth him most?”

Simon thought this an obvious question and answering said: “I suppose that he to whom he forgave most,” and Christ said: “Thou hast judged rightly. ‘

Then turning to the woman, He said to Simon: “ Dost thou see this woman? I entered into thy house, thou gavest Me no water for My feet; but she with her tears hath washed My feet; and with her hair hath wiped them. Thou gavest Me no kiss; but since she came in hath not ceased to kiss My feet. My head with oil thou didst not anoint; but she with ointment hath anointed My feet. Wherefore I say to thee: many sins are forgiven her because she hath loved much. But to whom less is forgiven, he loveth less.”

And He said to her: “Thy sins are forgiven thee , thy faith hath made thee whole. Go in peace.”

In this incident can be seen portrayed the method with which Christ worked the cure of souls. First, since sin is hatred of God, He demanded a sincere sorrow for it.

Mary Magdalen showed this by her tears. Then if the sorrow were really sincere it must of its very nature contain the resolution of never wilfully committing sin again. If this were not present then the expression of sorrow would be mere hypocrisy. Christ saw that her sorrow contained this resolution. In other instances, as for example, in the case of the man sick of the palsy He states the need of this requisition in the form of a command: “ Go and sin no more.”

There are two conditions, therefore, deemed necessary by Christ for the forgiveness of sins. Firstly, sorrow and secondly, a firm purpose of amendment, that is the resolution of never wilfully committing sin again.

CHRIST PROMISES THIS POWER TO HIS APOSTLES

Christ knew that after three years of public ministry He would leave the earth. Being God He knew that so long as human nature existed sin would abound, and the remedy which He had come on earth to establish was to exist as long as the disease of sin existed. To carry on His work after He had left the earth He drew around Him a band of followers whom He called His Apostles. To the chief of these, Peter, He first of all promised the power to forgive sins when He said to him: “Thou art Peter and upon this rock I will build My church, and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it. And I will give to thee the Keys of the Kingdom of Heaven. And whatsoever thou shalt bind upon earth shall be bound also in Heaven: and whatsoever thou shalt loose upon earth shall be loosed also in Heaven,” (Matt. xvi, 19.)

Then later He promises the same power of binding and loosing to the rest of the Apostles. “Amen, I say to you, whatsoever you shall bind on earth shall be bound also in Heaven: and whatsoever you loose upon earth shall be loosed also in Heaven.” (Matt. xviii. 18.).

In the former text after assuring St. Peter that he is the rock upon which the church shall be built, Christ continues: “And I will give thee the Keys of the Kingdom of Heaven, and whatsoever thou shalt bind upon earth shall be bound also in heaven: and whatsoever thou shalt loose upon earth shall be loosed also in heaven.”

In this as in the other text Christ uses the future tense to show that He is promising this power.

Dealing with the promise to St. Peter, Christ promises him the power of the keys. In the language of the Jews, as in our own tongue, to give anyone the keys of a place meant conferring on them supreme power and authority, to come and go, open or shut, just as they pleased. Therefore, in giving to St. Peter “the Keys of the Kingdom of Heaven,” Christ gave him supreme power to govern His Church; to admit into it and to exclude from it, to impose and remit penalties. Such a power must of its nature include the forgiveness of sins. St. Peter is promised the Keys of the Kingdom of Heaven, not just one or two. Now nothing excludes man from the Kingdom of Heaven so positively as does sin. If then St. Peter lacked the power to forgive sins he would not possess all the keys because he could not bind or loose, open or shut unconditionally and God would not ratify all his official acts and consequently the words of Christ would be untrue. But the words of Christ, since He is God, must be true. The power of forgiving sins is promised, therefore, in the first place, to St. Peter.

Later Christ promises the power of ‘ binding and loosing ‘ to the rest of the Apostles. (Matt. xviii. 18.). In order to give an added solemnity to His words, Christ prefixes them by the word ‘Amen.’ Only on very solemn occasions, when He had something of extra-special importance to say, does He use the word ‘Amen.’

CHRIST FULFILS THIS PROMISE

The promise which Christ makes to His Apostles in Saint Matthew’s gospel is fulfilled by Him when, after the Resurrection He miraculously appeared to them and said: “Peace be to you. As the Father hath sent Me, I also send you.” When He had said this He breathed on them and said to them: “Receive ye the Holy Ghost: whose sins you shall forgive they are forgiven them, and whose sins you shall retain they are retained.” (Jn. xx. 21–23).

In this most solemn way Christ bestows on His Apostles the power to forgive sins. A power which He had previously promised to them. Henceforth they are to be His ambassadors in the world. From the context is seen that Christ sent them to forgive sins in the same way in which He had been sent by His Heavenly Father, and not in a restricted sense.

THIS POWER IMPLIES CONFESSION

Christ, during His lifetime, required two conditions for the forgiveness of sins. First, sorrow and secondly a firm purpose of amendment. Being God, He could read the hearts and thoughts of men, and consequently knew without being told what sins they had committed. With the Apostles, however, the case is different. They were not divine, but were ordinary men like ourselves. It was not in their power, except in special cases, to know the thoughts and read the hearts of men. Yet Christ had made them supreme judges in the spiritual world, with the power to give or withhold forgiveness. As in civil law a judge requires to have full knowledge of a ease before passing judgment, so too in the case of sin, a transgression of the law of God. It was necessary for the Apostles to know the facts of each case before they could exercise their power as judge. . What other way, since they could not read men’s thoughts, is there but that the person wishing to have his sins forgiven should tell them to the Apostles?

Therefore it follows that the means established by Christ for the forgiveness of sins, entails three conditions. First, sorrow; secondly, a firm purpose of amendment-and thirdly, the telling (confessing) of sins to those to whom Christ said: “Whose sins you shall forgive they are forgiven them.”

THIS POWER WAS MEANT FOR ALL TIME

The power of forgiving sins was not given to the Apostles alone; but to their lawful successors. Christ knew that the Apostles, being human, would one day die, but the Society which He had founded was to exist until the end of time. Observe the solemn words of Christ: “As the Father hath sent me, so also do I send you.” He sent them clothed with His own power and He had commanded them to go into the whole world, to all nations even to the consummation of the world. It was manifestly impossible for the Apostles themselves to go into the whole world and to every nation. Likewise, since they were human they could not exist until the consummation of the world, and yet Christ had promised to be with His Church to the end of time.

From the very nature and purpose of the Church it is plain that the power to forgive sins was not merely a personal prerogative of the Apostles, but was granted to them in their official capacity, and hence intended, like the Church, to be a permanent institution. The Church with her divine mission, her apostolic succession and her infallible teaching authority is destined to endure for all time. The power to forgive sins must be available and exercised as long as they are sinners and that means to the end of time. Any church not claiming to have this power could not possibly call itself the true Church of Christ.

As long, therefore, as the world shall last (even to the consummation of the world), shall the power to forgive sins, as instituted by Christ, exist and be exercised.

WHERE IS THAT POWER TODAY?

So far it has been seen that Christ Himself forgave sins, that He bestowed this power on the Apostles and their successors and that the means established for the forgiveness of sins entails three conditions on the part of the penitent:-(1) sorrow; (2) a firm purpose of amendment and (3) the Confession of sins to one to whom Christ said: “Whose sins you shall forgive, they are forgiven them “. It is an obvious fact that there is sin in the world today. If there is sin, then there is sin to be forgiven. Where then can be found in the world today the means laid down by Christ and fulfilling the three conditions which He deemed necessary for the forgiveness of sins?

The answer to this question is in the Catholic Confessional.’ A Catholic goes to confession because he realises that sin is an offence against God, depriving him of His friendship. Realising this, he is truly sorry. Thus he fulfils the first condition laid down by Christ. His sorrow being sincere, he makes the resolution never wilfully to commit sin again. Thus is fulfilled the second condition, viz., the firm purpose of amendment. Going to confession, he humbly tells his sins to the priest, because he recognises that to the priest has been transmitted that power of remission given by Christ to His Apostles when He said to them: “Whose sins you shall forgive, they are forgiven them.” He knows that the priest cannot possibly forgive sins of his own power, for since sin is an offence against God, He alone can forgive it, but the priest is exercising that power which has been bestowed on him by God Himself. He is acting as the ambassador of Christ.

Thus in the confessional, or to give it its correct title-the Sacrament of Penance, is to be found a means for the forgiveness of sins which is identical with that established by Christ.

HISTORICAL PROOF FOR CONFESSION

Even though some critics of the Catholic system will not go so far as to deny that Christ gave the power to forgive sins to His Apostles, yet they urge that the confessing of sins is a modern invention of the Church. A glance at the writings of the Fathers of the early Church is sufficient to disprove this objection, and show that this practice has been the custom from the time of the Apostles:—St. Cyprian (d. 258): I intreat you, brethren, that each one should confess his own sins, while he who has sinned is still in the flesh, while his confession may be received, while his satisfaction and the absolution given by the priest are still pleasing to the Lord. (De lapsis 28–29).

Origen (d. 254): The layman who falls into sin cannot by himself wash away his own fault; he must have recourse to the levite; he needs the priest nay at times he applies to one even greater than they: he needs even the Pontiff’s help, that he may obtain the remission of his sins. (In numeros x. I.).

St. Pacian. (d. 390): admonishes sinners “ to cease to hide their wounded conscience “ and to follow the example of “the sick who do not fear the Physician though he cut and burn the secret parts of the body “; he goes on to say: “‘God alone’ you say ‘can remit sins.’ Quite correct. But what He does through His priest, is done by His power “ (Libellus ad peen. 6–8).

St. Ambrose (d 397): Sins are forgiven through the Holy Ghost. Certainly, but men lend him their ministry . . . they forgive sins, not in their own name, but in the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Ghost. (De Spiritu Sancto III. 137.)

These historical quotations have been confined to the early centuries because in later years they are more abundant, and the object of the ones quoted is achieved when it is shown that auricular confession was the practice of the infant Church, a practice obviously derived from the Apostles themselves.

It is worthy of note that until the time of the so-called reformation no one ever questioned the right of the Church to forgive sins. The Montanists in the second century were declared heretics because they asserted that there were certain sins which the Church could not forgive; whilst the Cathari and Waldensians erred with regard to who exercise the power of forgiveness. None of them contested the power of forgiving sins in the Church. Even in Luther’s ‘ Little Catechism ‘ and in the Apologia of the Angsburg Confession, Penance is mentioned as the third sacrament.

Again, all the Eastern sects have confession, i.e., the Sacrament of Penance, even though they separated from the Church at an early period in her history. Which proves that at the time of their separation they practised the Sacrament of Penance.

For one moment, suppose that Confession had not been the practice of the Catholic Church, and then the Pope or one of the councils had decided to impose on the faithful the obligation of confessing their sins. Obviously such a burthen, distasteful to human nature, could not have been imposed without creating a vast upheaval. There would have been schisms and revolts everywhere and the date of its institution would have stood out as definitely as that of the Great War or any other great event in history. But there is no trace in the history of the Church of any such happening. The absence of all protests during the centuries prior to the reformation is an evident proof that Confession was regarded as a sacred duty imposed by none other than Christ Himself.

THE VALUE OF CONFESSION

A glance at the alarming growth in the number of suicides in Europe since the reformation points to the salutary effects of Confession. It is an established fact that suicide has been much more common in non-Catholic than in Catholic communities. A writer in the Encyclopedia Britannica, in an articles on ‘Suicide’ bears out this statement. In England and Wales during the years 1861 to 1906 the average annual number of suicides has gone on steadily increasing from 65 to 100 for every million inhabitants.

Are there not good grounds to assert that this terrible increase in self-destruction is due to the far-reaching effect of the abolition of the Catholic Confessional?

Nothing inclines a soul more to despair and eventually to self-destruction than does worry and sin. The Catholic, burdened maybe under all the troubles, worries and sins in the world, can go to confession and tell them to the priest. Perhaps he has never seen the priest before, perhaps he will never see him again. There is no danger of anything he has told the priest becoming known. He knows that the priest is bound under the Seal of Confession ‘ never to reveal anything that has been told to him during the exercise of that divine office.

Above all, the Catholic knows that in confessing to the priest he is laying his troubles and sins before one who is not only a Judge but also a Physician. One who will not only, in the name of Christ, grant him forgiveness of his sins, but at the same time show him the particular remedy he needs.

Before the reformation suicides were rare when compared with their enormity today, and it was not until the time of the reformation that confession was abolished.

Hope has always been sanity, whereas despair is madness and folly. Christ came into the world to, bring a message of hope. His teachings were the longed for Good Tidings,’ and the Sacrament of Penance, as He instituted it, is a sacrament of Hope. It is a breakwater which reduces to a minimum the sea of despair which is engulfing the world today.

INDULGENCES

DEFINITION OF AN INDULGENCE

Closely allied to the Sacrament of Penance is the Doctrine of Indulgences, and this is without doubt the most maligned doctrine of the Catholic Church. Either through deliberate misunderstanding or through ignorance people outside the Church have a completely wrong idea of this teaching. Therefore it is advisable to commence this short explanation with a clear definition of what exactly an Indulgence consists.

From the beginning we are handicapped by the very word ‘indulgence’; a person is called ‘indulgent’ if he closes his eyes to another’s faults. It is hardly surprising then that when a person is told that the Church grants Indulgences, he immediately jumps to the conclusion that in some inexplicable way the Church is winking at her children’s nonobservance of the ten commandments, and giving them permission to commit sin for a period varying in length from forty days to seven years.

An indulgence is not a pardon of sin, still less is it a permission to commit sin. What then is it? The penny catechism gives us the clearest answer: ‘An indulgence is a remission, granted by the Church, of the temporal punishment which often remains due to sin after the guilt has been forgiven. .’ An indulgence, therefore, is a pardon, not of the guilt of sin, but of the temporal (not eternal) punishment incurred by sin. This remission, it must be understood, refers only to the temporal punishment due to sin. Though sanctifying grace be restored to the soul by the Sacrament of Penance, the sinner, unless his sorrow be perfect, still remains answerable for a large debt of temporal punishment. This debt is sometimes fully discharged by the penance imposed in confession, but there is as a rule, a large residue which must be removed either in this life or in Purgatory.

When therefore, the Church grants an indulgence, she is in no sense giving her children permission to commit sins for any allotted span of time.

WHERE DOES THE CHURCH GET HER MERITS FOR INDULGENCES?

The Church draws her merits for ‘ blotting ‘ out the temporal punishment due to sin from a treasury of which her Divine Founder constituted her the dispenser, and out of which she grants to each individual as much merit as is needed to satisfy the justice of God. This treasury consists of the superabundant merits of Christ and His Saints. A clearer idea of the nature of this treasury is obtained if it is realised that any good work done for God has a threefold value: it is meritorious, impetratory and satisfactory. Meritorious: If a person declines to commit sin, because God has so commanded, or says his prayers because God has so ordained, he merits from God a reward. This reward is a man’s own, he can never hand it on to another, but it is stored up for him in heaven and will avail him at the end of his life as an offset to his demerits. Impetratory: Good works have also the power to win favours from God, either for ourselves or for others. Thus a person may pray or do penance in order to obtain from God a favour or grace of which he or another stands in need. Satisfactory: The true meaning of the word satisfaction ‘ appears in the expression to ‘satisfy a debt or a debtor . When we talk of our acts as ‘ satisfactory ‘ we refer to their power of making reparation for wrong doing, and it is clear that a person who by sin has incurred a debt of punishment can by subsequent acts pay off or ‘satisfy this debt. No one would punish equally a person who had offended him, and afterwards never performed any acts of reparation, and another offender who had by repeated acts shown his sincere sorrow. If this is natural to us it must be still more so with God, who is the Perfection of Generosity. It is in this sense the acts proceeding from the love of God, whom we have offended, have the power to satisfy ‘ the punishment due to sin.

The deeds wrought by Christ whilst on earth were of infinite value, since they were performed by an infinite God in a human form. Christ’s merits therefore constitute an infinite inexhaustible source of satisfactions to be applied to His brethren whom He redeemed. It is on this treasury that the Church relies when she grants an indulgence. To these merits she adds those of the Saints.

Having considered these facts we are in a better position to arrive at a clearer concept of what exactly an Indulgence is. It is, a remission of the temporal punishment, which a penitent, whose sins are forgiven, has yet to undergo, either here or in Purgatory; this remission is granted by the Church, through the power of the keys, from the treasury of the superabundant merits of Christ and His Saints.

THE POWER OF THE CHURCH TO GRANT INDULGENCES

The power to grant indulgences rests on the universal character of the power of the Keys. This power includes the faculty of loosing as well as that of binding. Christ said to St. Peter, and in his person to his successors: “I will give to thee the Keys of the Kingdom of Heaven, and whatsoever thou shalt bind upon earth shall be bound also in heaven; and whatsoever thou shalt loose upon earth, it shall be loosed also in heaven.” (Matt xvi. 19). To all the Apostles together, and to their successors, the Bishops of the Catholic Church, He said: “Whatsoever you shall bind upon earth, shall be bound also in heaven and whatever you shall loose upon earth shall be loosed also in heaven.” (Matt. xviii. 18.). Thus Christ conferred upon St. Peter and the Apostles, that is on the Pope and the Bishops, the power of loosing as well as the power of binding. The power of remitting as well as of imposing penalties. He, therefore, gave to His Apostles and their successors the power to loose all spiritual bonds, to release the faithful of their spiritual debts, the debt of temporal as well as of eternal punishment. This power is somewhat similar to that possessed by the state which can remit the penalty of death, substitute a lighter punishment for a heavier one, or grant a complete pardon.

To this may be added another consideration. The pardoning of eternal punishment of sin through the Sacrament of Penance is proof of a far greater power than the remission of temporal punishment effected by indulgences. The Church has the greater power, viz., of forgiving sins, there is no reason for denying her the smaller. Christ gave the power of loosing unconditionally to His Church, and without limit, therefore she can use it outside of as well as in the Sacrament of Penance. This is illustrated by St. Paul’s attitude to the incestuous Corinthian. Though he delivered him “up to Satan” i.e., excommunicated him, he received him back and remitted his punishment when he showed sorrow. The Apostle justifies this step as follows: “And to whom you have pardoned anything, I forgive also; for what I also have forgiven, if I have forgiven anything, for your sakes have I forgiven it in the person of Christ (II Cor. 11–10.) .

The Church even in her infancy acted as though she were authorised by God to remit the temporal punishment due to sin. During the time when Canonical penances were inflicted she frequently lightened, abbreviated or entirely remitted them. She could not have done so unless she believed that her acts were ratified before God. Proof of this can be found in the writings of Tertullian and St. Cyprian, and the Council of Ancrya (314) expressly vindicates this power of granting indulgences.

KINDS OF INDULGENCES

Indulgences may be divided up into various classes. The chief of which, and the most important is the distinction between plenary and partial indulgences.

A plenary indulgence is the remission of the whole of the debt of temporal punishment due to sin, after its guilt has been forgiven.

A partial indulgence is the remission of part of the temporal punishment due to sin. These indulgences are measured by the penitential Canons of the early Church, being granted for forty days, seven years, etc. Thus an indulgence of forty days or seven years means a remission of as much of the temporal punishment as would have been discharged in ancient times by a penance lasting for forty days or seven years.

Indulgences may be applied to the souls in Purgatory, yet it is only in a wider sense that the power of the Keys apply to these souls. The Church offers to God from the treasury of merits at her command an equivalent satisfaction with the request to remit any remaining punishment to the extent of the indulgence offered by her. The souls do not receive these indulgences directly, but indirectly, through the intercession of the living. As the faithful on earth can aid the poor souls in a general way by their prayers, so they can help them in a particular way by means of indulgences through their intercession.

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Call The Priest

BY WINFRID HERBST, S.D.S

INDEX

Does a person who receives Extreme Unction before death go straight to heaven?

Yes; if he receives it with the proper dispositions. As confession is designed by God to save souls from hell, so Extreme Unction is designed by Him to enable them to escape purgatory. But let us take a concrete case. A man is seriously sick. The priest is called. He finds him sincere, well-disposed, and able to make a good confession. He tells his sins and then finishes with an act of imperfect contrition directed to all his sins, mortal as well as venial. He then receives absolution. So the guilt of his sins has been removed. Extreme Unction is then administered, not to remove the guilt of the sins, for they have already been forgiven, but to remove the remains of the sins of his whole life, in other words, to blot out the full debt of temporal punishment due to his sins. Thus Extreme Unction removes the only obstacle between his soul and heaven. That is what we mean by saying that, administered in time to one properly disposed, Extreme Unction prepares the sick person for immediate entrance into heaven. (Vide Noldin, Vol. III, 430 [dl, 1925.)

Hence, though it is never too late to call the priest and Extreme Unction can be given even to the unconscious, it is not difficult to see the great advantages of having this sacrament administered in time. No wonder, then, that Canon Law says: “Great care and solicitude must be used to have the sick persons receive Extreme Unction while they are fully conscious.” But how sick must one be in order to receive this sacrament? “The degree of the danger of death,” says Father Woywood, O.F.M., in his Commentary onthe Code of Canon Law, “is an element which is incapable of precise definition. It is, however, certain that the danger need not be imminent, nor the malady so serious that there is little or no hope of recovery. The ancient practice of the Church teaches that any ailment which may be fatal to the patient is sufficient ground for administering Extreme Unction, and one need not wait until the sickness takes a fatal turn. In several rituals of the ninth and following centuries we read that the sick person should stand or kneel, or recite the Our Father and answer the questions addressed to him, all of which supposes that the sick person was not so close to death.”

By all means, let us get rid of the silly notion that when the priest comes to administer Extreme Unction it is a sign to make arrangements for the funeral. And the best way to get this nonsensical superstitious, ignorant notion out of people’s (and sick persons”) heads is to call the priest as soon as there is a serious sickness, thus making Extreme Unction what it really is, the sacrament of the sick, not the sacrament of the dying. “Is anyone sick among you? Let him call in the priest.”

Moreover, one of the effects of Extreme Unction is to restore the body to health, if God sees fit. Also, this effect can be more readily expected if the priest is called before the disease has made notable progress. Many, even nonCatholic, physicians have the laudable custom of summoning the priest at once when a Catholic patient is dangerously ill; and their experience is that then the largest percentage of cases get well after Extreme Unction.

—A person is in the state of mortal sin when there is a sudden accident or he is suddenly taken sick and sinks into unconsciousness, so that when the priest arrives he cannot go to confession. Before he dies, the priest administers Extreme Unction. Are his mortal sins forgiven so that he can be saved?

The Council of Trent teaches that the effects of Extreme Unction are (1) to confer grace, ((2) to forgive sins, (3) to relieve from sickness.

Now, in the first place we must remember that Extreme Unction is a sacrament of the living and that it was not instituted primarily for the forgiveness of mortal sin. By its very nature it gives the “second” grace, i.e., an increase of sanctifying grace. The recipient of Extreme Unction should, accordingly, be in the state of grace, and hence, if he has mortal sin on his conscience, he must beforehand make an act of perfect contrition or receive absolution with attrition, or, if neither is possible, he must at least make an act of attrition (attrition is imperfect contrition). The custom of the Church calls for confession before Extreme Unction, and divine law commands confession if one is in mortal sin and in danger of death.

We are concerned here with only one of the effects of this sacrament, namely, to forgive sins. Extreme Unction forgives venial sins. It also forgives mortal sin, if the patient is not conscious of being in the state of mortal sin, or if having had such consciousness but having had imperfect contrition only, he has not had the opportunity of confessing his sins, as may happen in the case of an accident, a stroke of apoplexy, etc.; for in the form, or prayer, of the sacrament there is no distinction made between venial and mortal sins: “May God forgive thee whatever sins thou hast committed.” Neither does the Council of Trent, nor the text from St. James” Epistle limit the effect of Extreme Unction to slight offences.

We must here attend to a difference between Extreme Unction and the other sacraments of the living. All sacraments of the living forgive mortal sin when the recipient is in the state of mortal sin, provided he be not aware of it and have at least imperfect contrition. But Extreme Unction will forgive mortal sin even if one is conscious of it, provided, while having imperfect contrition, one has not the opportunity to confess.

If in such a case the person should not die and should regain consciousness, he would have to mention his mortal sins in confession later on, just as one who makes an act of perfect contrition and thereby is forgiven all mortal sins must nevertheless mention those sins in confession-not because they are not forgiven but because of the precept that all mortal sins must, if possible, be submitted to the power of the keys.

We add some further remarks about Extreme Unction. The principal effect of Extreme Unction, as quite commonly held by theologians today, is the comforting of the soul of a sick person by which he is strengthened against the dangers of spiritual debility which follows a serious illness. And a sick person is also one who has met with an accident that puts him in danger of death. Hence even if the cause of the sickness was external and violent, the sick person may validly and lawfully receive Extreme Unction. (Cf. Capello.)

The spiritual debility mentioned above may be unruly passions, temptations, fear, diffidence, anxiety, distrust, depression. It may have reference to the past life, to the present, to the future. Against such debility Extreme Unction gives its vigorous spiritual injections of courage, confidence, child-like trust in God.

Furthermore, Extreme Unction at once remits in their entirety all past unforgiven venial sins; this is quite certain if we make an act of imperfect contrition for them, even if we do not, since we cannot, recall each one individually. This act of contrition should be made at the time we receive the sacrament or shortly before. We have already spoken above about Extreme Unction and the forgiveness of mortal sin.

Moreover, Extreme Unction, while it will always remove some of the temporal punishment due to sin if worthily received, will probably remove all temporal punishment if the one who receives it makes an act of imperfect contrition more fervent than that required by Baptism in an adult and less fervent than that demanded by confession in order that these sacraments may remove all temporal punishment. It should be quite possible for a person to make such an act of imperfect contrition. But it seems to be quite certain that an act of perfect contrition coupled with this sacrament would make the soul ready for immediate entrance into heaven, without going to purgatory. If a little debt of temporal punishment should be incurred between the time of receiving Extreme Unction and death, this would be remitted either by the prayers and good works of the sick person or by indulgences gained, especially by the plenary indulgence attached to the Apostolic Blessing given immediately after Extreme Unction; for this plenary indulgence suspends its effect until the very moment of death; in other words, it is not gained when the Apostolic Blessing is conferred but at the very moment of death.

How merciful the Saviour, to institute this precious sacrament! And how eager the sick should be to receive it! And how solicitous those in charge of the sick should be that they do receive it!

Another effect of the sacrament of Extreme Unction is that it sometimes restores bodily health to the sick person, provided he receives it before his natural physical forces are exhausted, if it conduces to the soul’s welfare.

How this is done we really do not know, but it is attested by the experience of priests, doctors, and nurses.

In conclusion, let us recall that the real reason why the Divine Saviour instituted the sacrament of Extreme Unction is to cleanse the soul so perfectly from all traces of sin and its effects that the dying person, if he prepares sufficiently for it and co-operates generously with its graces, may go right straight to heaven, may at once be united with Christ and be welcomed by His smile in eternal bliss. (Cf. Clarence McAuliffe, S.J., in Review for Religious. Vol. 4, No. 5, “Extreme Unction, Key to Heaven.”)

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If someone is killed or dies suddenly can the priest give Extreme Unction if the body is still warm? The priest may not give Extreme Unction to one who is certainly dead; but, according to the testimony of learned physicians in our day, a person may still be living, even when it appears that he has breathed his last, since (they say) life but gradually departs from the body. Because of this (theory), a priest may and more probably must conditionally anoint (and absolve) one who after a lingering illness has already been apparently dead for a half an hour, more or less, or one who has already been apparently dead for two or more hours in case of a sudden accident. Hence, it is never too late to call the priest. From the answer to the question preceding this, it is easy it see that getting the priest may mean the eternal salvation of a soul.

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I know of a man who led a very wicked life, was drunk every day for a year, and then one night was brought home in a dying condition and unconscious. The priest was summoned and stayed with him for hours, often calling him by name. But he remained unconscious and did not speak. The priest anointed him. They took him to the hospital. He died five hours after, having never recovered consciousness. Please tell me whether you think his soul was saved.

What an unusually sad death! Surely, no one would care to die like that. The only consoling thing about it was the priest at his bedside-an unmerited grace of God.

But was this soul lost? No one would dare to assert that he was. Perhaps he got the grace to make an act of perfect contrition just before he lost consciousness Perhaps he knew the priest was at his side and heard his voice and exhortation even though he could not give any sign of it (such states occur often enough). If he did, he perhaps made an act of contrition. If so, his sins were forgiven by the conditional absolution which the priest surely gave him.

He received Extreme Unction; and we know that the effects of this great sacrament go very far. So, for instance, the patient may be deprived of his senses, he may not know that the sacrament is being administered to him; but if at any time, before becoming unconscious, he had the desire to receive it, the sacrament would justify him, provided he had never retracted his intention to receive it. It is also probable that Extreme Unction will effect the justification of the recipient even if he had never had the desire of it, but would have desired it if he had known its necessity.

For such an interpretative intention is sufficient reason for a priest to administer it; and for the sick person who is unable to confess, that intention is probably sufficient for the remission of his sins. Although we cannot affirm as certain that Extreme Unction will thus remit the mortal sins of those who are unconscious and unable to confess even by a sign, since the Church has not so declared, we may state, as absolutely certain, that many are saved through Extreme Unction who otherwise would be lost.

It is, therefore, never too late to call the priest. And while there is life, there is hope. Pray for the conversion of sinners.

—Is Extreme Unction administered to a Catholic who commits suicide?

Let us take the sad case of a Catholic who commits suicide. He is, let us suppose, unconscious and just breathing his last or has just died. According to the testimony of learned physicians, as we noted before, a person may still be living even when it appears that he has breathed his last. Now, a Catholic man commits suicide and the distracted relatives rush for the priest and bring him to the unfortunate man. Will the priest administer the sacrament of Extreme Unction to that miserable murderer of himself?

It may be that the priest under certain circumstances will not do so, particularly for fear of giving scandal to the faithful and to others. Here is a man who evidently died in mortal sin. And Extreme Unction is not to be administered to those who obstinately persist in their impenitence in a manifest mortal sin, but in case of doubt it is to be administered conditionally (Canon 942).

But he can explain this to the bystanders, thus obviating scandal, and tell them that this is a case of doubt. The poor man was probably not responsible for what he was doing and was sorry for it immediately afterwards but when it was already too late. The priest can really say nothing concerning the state of soul of one lying unconscious, even though apparently dead; and he may, therefore, always give such a one the benefit of the doubt. The internal intention on the part of the priest of doing all that he can do is sufficient conditional intention in such a case.

But suppose this man had been a bad Catholic and had positively repudiated the ministry of a priest up to the moment of unconsciousness. Even then, provided there is no scandal given (and one must leave this matter to the judgment of the priest), it appears right to administer Extreme Unction, at least conditionally, to such a one; for who can judge the state of soul of one who is lying apparently unconscious? Numerous cases are reported of persons who knew everything that was going on around them but were unable to move a finger or open their eyes. It seems that this cataleptic state is not so very uncommon just before death. (Cf. Davis, Moral and Pastoral Theology, 1st ed., Vol. 4, pp. 8 and 9.)

A little boy seven years and nine months old, who had never gone to confession before, went to confession on his deathbed. He could not receive Holy Communion because of his physical condition, but he did receive the sacrament of Extreme Unction. Just an hour before he died this little boy said: “Fire! Fire! they are throwing down hot irons!” Is there anything to this? Do you think that this boy is lost or that he must suffer a long time in purgatory? He was a good boy and went to Mass every Sunday after the age of seven, except when he was sick.

There is absolutely nothing to it. The sick often say the strangest things in fever and delirium. This boy, so good and faithful, still almost in his baptismal innocence, purified in soul by the sacraments of Penance and Extreme Unction, must have gone straight to heaven; if he went to purgatory it was surely but a swift passage through its cleansing flames. That such a soul should be lost is a thought that is utterly repugnant to the Catholic heart and may not be entertained for even a moment. Still, we should never neglect to pray for even such children. They may need our help in purgatory. We never know.

Parenthetically, we may here remark that this boy’s parents were evidently good, well-instructed, and practical Catholics. They knew that as soon as a child reaches the age of reason it should go to Mass at least on days of obligation, that such a child should go to confession and, if possible, to Holy Communion, that it should receive the sacrament of the sick, Extreme Unction, when seriously ill. Children who have reached the use of reason and are judged capable of deceit and sin, may and should if sick with a disease that gives warning of danger, be anointed, even if they have not yet received their first Holy Communion and even if they have not yet made their first confession Let parents remember this and call the priest in good time. “It is an altogether detestable abuse not to administer Extreme Unction to children after the use of reason,” said Pope St. Pius X, that greatest friend of the little ones (Decret. Quam Singulare).

And since we have touched upon this subject, we cannot refrain from quoting the following illuminating and necessary words of Mgr. Cortet, late Bishop of Troyes, whom disease had brought to the very portals of death and whom Extreme Unction brought back to life:”Many have a sort of horror of Extreme Unction; they imagine that this sacrament is not the sacrament of the sick, but of the dying, and that those who have received it are inevitably doomed to die. This is a fateful error, a prejudice based on ignorance of the teachings of the Church: and if you have no proof of that teaching, let me tell you that I received the last sacraments several months ago, and not only am I not dead, but they powerfully contributed to bring meback to life.”

The same bishop adds: “Since Our Lord Jesus Christ, in His infinite mercy, has in stituted a sacrament so efficacious for the relief of the sick, and its effects are so admirable and so certain, why is this sacrament not zealously requested at the beginning of a serious illness? Why do the relatives in their blind and cruel affection, instead of calling the priest, keep him away until the patient asks for him? Sometimes someone dares to speak to a patient of Communion, but Extreme Unction is frequently postponed to the moment when, having lost all consciousness he is no longer able to join in the motherly and fortifying prayers of the Church and to co-operate by his personal disposition with the efficaciousness of the sacrament. Why is this? You hasten to call a physician as soon as disease appears among you, but you do not call on the Supreme physician of body and soul, Who holds in His hands the keys of life and death. You carefully apply to your ills the remedies prescribed, you make the patient take even the bitterest draughts, you beg him to submit to the most painful operations; but you do not procure for him the spiritual medicine of Extreme Unction, which would vivify him, body and soul!”

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Do you think that almost every person who dies in the grace of God is going to purgatory after death? No; we do not think so. We rather think that since the Divine Saviour, so good and loving, instituted the sacrament of Extreme Unction primarily in order that the faithful may be preserved, not only from hell, but also from purgatory, this sacrament will take full effect in many, many cases. (There are, by the way, also the many plenary and partial indulgences to be gained during life and at the hour of death; many, many souls will also be saved from purgatory by them; but we prefer here to speak of Extreme Unction.) However, that Extreme Unction may have this effect, it must, of course, be received. Never let a person die without a priest if you can help it! Get the priest in good time! Better too early than too late!

What we wish to tell you here is that many, many souls are going directly to heaven after death because of the sacrament of Extreme Unction, received with the proper dispositions, for Extreme Unction was instituted to prepare the soul to go straight to heaven without any delay in purgatory. This is the teaching of all theologians. Noldin (n. 429, a) says: “This sacrament is instituted as a proximate preparation and disposing of the soul, that it may enter heaven without delay.” The same author also says (u. 430, 2): “This sacrament was instituted to remove whatever hinders the soul’s entrance into heavenly glory.” Pruemmer (578, b) states: “Since Extreme Unction is the immediate preparation for heaven, it should remove whatever interferes with the soul’s entrance into heaven.” Father Joseph Kern, S.J., in his book on Extreme Unction says: “Extreme Unction is the perfect healing of the soul with a view to its immediate entry into glory.” Lehmkuhl (n. 715) holds that “Extreme Unction disposes the soul and prepares it proximately for entrance into heaven.” Suarez, speaking of the sacraments of Penance and Extreme Unction (disp. 41), thinks that “if this sacrament meets no obstacles, it takes away every evil from the soul that might in any way impede or retard its entrance to eternal glory.” Albertus Magnus (IV. disp. ii. ad 1)believes that “Extreme Unction was instituted to remove the remains of sin in so far as they obstruct the immediate flight to heaven.” St. Thomas (Suppl., Q. xxix, ad 1) says: “This sacrament immediately disposes man for glory.” St. Egbert, Archbishop of York in the eighth century, tells us: “It is written that the soul of the one who has received this rite [Extreme Unction] is equally as pure as the soul of a child that dies immediately after baptism” (Eccl. Rev.,LV, 296). “All Scholastic doctors, without a dissenting voice, teach that it is an undoubted truth that Extreme Unction is instituted for the purpose of disposing the soul of the dying for its immediate transfer to heaven” (ibid). The Council of Trent (Session XIV) calls Extreme Unction ““the complement (or completion) of the sacrament of Penance, because it supplies what is left undone by Penance, effacing all that remains of sin (even after confession) .”

Reflect again upon the wondrous effects of the sacrament of Extreme Unction. (a) If the soul be in sin, in mortal sin, and unable to confess them, those mortal sins are blotted out, provided the person concerned had at least imperfect contrition before being stricken. (b) This sacrament remits the last vestiges of sin that bind the soul to earth, blotting out all weakness and timidity of soul and that last attachment to sin which keeps the soul from yielding itself completely to the loving mercy of God. (c) It pours into the soul a great and loving confidence in God. (d) It gives the soul marvellous strength to withstand the onslaught of the demon. (e) It frequently restores bodily health to the person receiving it, if such restoration to health be advantageous to thesoul’s salvation. (f) This sacrament disposes the soul for immediate entrance into heaven. We have the authority of saints, Doctors of the Church, and of learned theologians for the assertion that if a soul receives this sacrament with due dispositions, with sincere sorrow for every sin ever committed, and with an earnest desire to receive all the effects of the sacrament, that soul goes straight to heaven without any purgatory!

When the priest is to come to the house with the Blessed Sacrament for the sick, what preparations should be made, and what procedure should be followed after his arrival?

A sick-room table should he prepared near the bed of the sick person. It should be covered with a clean white cloth and on it there should be a crucifix, two candlesticks with beeswax candles, a finger bowl with water, a glass of water, a spoon, holy water and sprinkler, and a napkin. All this is for Holy Communion. If Extreme Unction is also to be administered, add to the above a clean saucer with six small balls of cotton and another saucer with salt or pieces of bread and lemon; and somewhere nearby have a basin of water and a towel for the priest to use in washing his hands.

Someone should light the candles before the priest arrives at the house and see to it that everything is in its place on the table and that everything in the room, including the bed and the sick person, is as neat and tidy as possible. There should also be a chair at the bedside for the priest when he hears the patient’s confession. It is most embarrassing, not to say disgraceful, when people must run around in confusion, looking for matches and this and that, after the priest is in the room with the Blessed Sacrament. Have everything prepared well in advance. When the priest is at the door someone should meet him with a lighted candle and, after he has vested or removed his overcoat, escort him to the sickroom. The always beautiful greeting, “Praised be Jesus Christ,” may be said when meeting the priest at the door; but it is not necessary to say anything. The reverential silence that shows the quiet adoration of the heart is more impressive than anything else and is a token of grateful welcome. The other members of the family, unless duties require their absence, should be in the room kneeling and silently praying. They should not be sitting or standing around in other rooms as though they had no faith and piety. No one should speak to the priest unless absolutely necessary. They should remain kneeling until he bids them retire. They remain out during confession, until given a sign by the priest to return. Even while outside they should kneel and pray and not stand or sit around and talk. Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament, God Himself, is in the house! While in the sick-room, all should follow the priest in prayer. All kneel for the blessing which the priest imparts to the sick person before he leaves. If he still has the Blessed Sacrament, it is unbecoming to detain him with conversation. After he has gone, the water in which he washed his fingers should be poured into the fire. It is no longer prescribed that it be given to the sick person. But water may and should be given if the sick person has difficulty in swallowing the Host. In case Extreme Unction was administered, the salt, or bread and lemon, as also the pieces of cotton, should be burnt, so that the holy oil on them be not desecrated. In many cases, however, the priest will take these things along, at least the cotton.

Don’t you think that it is just terrible for a Catholic physician or a relative or a priest to come around and tell a seriously sick person to receive Extreme Unction? Why, the shock is enough to kill the sick person on the spot and it surely must aggravate his condition and hasten his death.

We are glad to be able to say that these ideas about the reception of Extreme Unction are quite wrong. Very, very rarely do patients react like that. The experience of priests and physicians shows that the predominating note in the attitude of the patient toward his reception of the last sacrament, in the large majority of cases, and these regardless of age and sex, is confidence of faith, and its sequel, relaxation. The commonly expected reactions of fear varying in degree from simple nervous apprehension through the stages of worry, stark terror, hysteria, and despair, as implied in your question, are the exception rather than the rule.

Up to the time of the reception of the beautiful and saving sacrament of the sick, there is an inhibition in the patient in the form of emotional tension. In the presence of that inhibition neither spiritual nor muscular relaxation is possible. This inhibition being removed by the reception of this dear sacrament, a peaceful soul inhabits a peaceful body; and the chances of recovery (if the priest is called in good time, while there are any chances at all) are greater than before. The patient becomes less fretful and more at ease. His attitude is more cheerful. He is always relieved in mind and, seemingly on not too infrequent occasions, also in body; for it is common to find that reception of Extreme Unction appears to relieve pain. The patient is buoyed up by two separate hopes. If he is not to die, the sacrament just received will speed his recovery; and if death is inevitable, he will pass on with a sense of security for the future. He has a clean soul; and a clean soul contributes realistically to a terrorless death. Did you ever notice the unaffected expression of faith on the face of a man who has just received the last sacraments? It is an expression of faith vastly superior in its marks of beauty to any observed during the course of untroubled life.

The power of Extreme Unction is also manifest in the psychological reaction of the persons at the immediate bedside. How often has it been noted that the atmosphere of the sick room, seemingly heavy with doubt and uncertainty, suddenly becomes clear and light following the reception of the last sacrament by the patient. To each one may come the impression that the end is not yet, that there is still some hope. There is some kind of a change in those around the sick-bed; and that change is undoubtedly due to the relief of nerve-muscle tension when the individual emotions of fear and doubt are replaced by confidence and by the conscious satisfaction of something accomplished. The patient’s relatives rightly console themselves with the thought that, no matter what may now happen, their dear one will not go to his Creator unanointed. They have consummated a duty not only to their relative but also to their religion and their God. They have also very effectively avoided the probable qualms of conscience that would have come should they have been neglectful of the step taken. They are likely to experience, too, a marked sense of relief from another point of view. An otherwise intelligent and mature individual will often exhibit a morbid and stupid type of solicitude for a patient. It is based upon the actually non-existent terror with which a sick person is supposed to become possessed at the mere mention of the last sacrament. The possibility of this attitude being found in the sickroom is always present. A perfectly splendid but highly emotional husband or wife, brother or sister will at times almost harshly turn aside the doctor’s suggestion of Extreme Unction on the entirely false premise that the very sight of the priest with the holy oils is sufficient cause for a grave relapse, an emotional storm bordering on hysteria, or even sudden death from shock, as suggested in the above question.

For this reason, with strong emotion clouding reason and judgment, Extreme Unction is all too often unreasonably delayed. Only after insistence by the physician has broken down prejudice, do these well-intentioned relatives allow the priest to administer the sacrament; and only after the threatened storm fails to materialize, do they realize with wonder and awe that they have been mistaken. Then and only then do they experience the relief of mind that should have been theirs at the first suggestion of the last sacrament. Many, if not all, physicians have yet to see a patient upset by either the pre-announced or the unheralded entrance of the priest into the sick-room for the purpose of ministering to the ill.

We conclude by observing once more that, if at all possible, Extreme Unction should be received while the subject is conscious and fully aware of what is taking place. (Cf. Clement J. Handron, M.D., in the Linacre Quarterly, 1941.)

—May one administer Baptism (or, if one is a priest, also Penance and Extreme Unction) to an unconscious dying person when one knows nothing at all about his religion?

If one has any reason for thinking that such a person is probably not baptized and that he would want to be baptized, one may baptize him. It is easy to conjecture that one who has heard of the Christian religion would have the will to be baptized. Indeed, even in the case of a person opposed to Christianity and who during his life strove to resist the call of grace, it may reasonably be supposed that he has changed his mind in his present danger of death and now desires faith and Baptism. Therefore, in our country every unconscious dying person not yet baptized may be baptized at least conditionally, that is, “If thou art capable, I baptize thee in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost.”

Moreover, in large cities there are now so many persons who have not been baptized, even though born of persons themselves baptized, that it is impossible to find out with certainty whether they have been baptized or not. It will accordingly be well to administer conditional Baptism to such an unknown unconscious dying person (before conditional absolution, if the one who baptizes is a priest).

Again, a sufficient will to be baptized is contained in every act of true attrition; for there is no true attrition without at least the implicit wish of belonging to the Church outside of which there is no salvation. But now, the wish to belong to the Church necessarily carries with it the implicit wish or will to accept the action of the one who baptizes.

We should remember, too, that there are many, even of those who live in the darkness of paganism, who seem to get enough out of their religion to believe in a God who is the punisher of evil and the rewarder of good; and we are not to deny the possibility of such a faith in anyone.

Wherefore, taking into consideration the supreme necessity of Baptism, it seems that there is no dying person, either in Christian or pagan lands, who may not be conditionally baptized, if scandal be excluded, that is to say, if by our act no harm will come to the Church, a danger quite easily averted ordinarily.

They may be baptized conditionally; but, because there are also weighty authorities who do not agree with the above, there is no obligation of baptizing such, unless they have in some probable way manifested the formal intention of receiving Baptism (cf. Vermeersch-Creusen, Epitome Iuris Canonici, 5th ed., Vol. 2, n. 35). Apropos of the above the late Father Vermeersch once wrote: “I could not resign myself to permit a single soul to be lost that might have been savedby my ministrations.”

Regarding this matter, Father Henry Davis, S.J, a safe theologian, says: “Cases may arise, especially in missionary countries, when a dying person has never manifested a desire for Baptism; it may even be that such a person has positively refused to become a Christian and has given orders that a missionary should not be allowed to come near him in his last moments; furthermore, he may even have rejected, before loss of consciousness, all ministrations of the priest. Nevertheless, such a person may have changed his mind in the last stages of consciousness, and since indeed there is every hope that he did so, under the universal salvific will of God, and since the very presence of a priest must be considered to be a manifest act of divine providence, conditional Baptism may and, we believe, should be given such a one. It must, however, be admitted that Baptism may not be given in such cases if the Christian religion would thereby be condemned and thought magical and superstitions by numbers of pagans present. The wise missionary will know how to administer the sacrament secretly without giving scandal.” (H. Davis, S.J., Pastoral and Moral Theology, 1st ed., Vol. 3, pp. 54 and 55; New York: Sheed and Ward.)

—My father died some time ago. For a few days before he died he was without the use of reason, unconscious, in a sort of coma, but he could eat and drink a little. While he was in that state the priest came and gave him Holy Communion. He swallowed the Host all right, but he really did not know what he was doing-I mean he didn’t know he was receiving Holy Communion. Did it do him any good then?

No doubt your father, like all good Catholics, often during his life expressed the wish and made the intention to receive Holy Communion by way of Viaticum before his death. And, as you say elsewhere, he had gone to confession a few days before receiving the Viaticum as described in your question. So he was manifestly in the state of grace. Hence the reception of the sacrament of the Eucharist in the manner you describe did indeed do him much good; it benefited him automatically (ex opere operato. If afterwards he likewise received Extreme Unction, it also was of great benefit to him spontaneously. That is the way the sacraments work when there is no co-operation on the part of the recipient, except for the previous intention and desire. Indeed, as in the case of the Baptism of infants, they work automatically. It is quite different with other good works. If a child without the use of reason would say a Hail Mary, parrot-like, or if a man in a coma would mumble the same prayer without knowing what he was doing, no grace would be received for that, because grace here depends entirely upon the subjective act (ex opere operantis).

Is it true that if you receive the sacrament of Extreme Unction a few days or even weeks before your death the indulgences attached to the sacrament are not applied to the soul until the moment of death? If this is true, then am I justified in believing that such a person goes straight to heaven?

You are somewhat confused about this matter. There are no indulgences, strictly so called, granted for the reception of Extreme Unction. But of itself “Extreme Unction is the perfect healing of the soul with a view to its immediate entry into glory.” In other words, many no doubt go directly to heaven after death, without going to pur- gatory, because of the sacrament of Extreme Unction, received with the proper dispositions.

The indulgences you are thinking of are those that can be gained at the hour of death, and by which many, many souls will also be saved from purgatory. In particular there is the plenary indulgence at the hour of death bestowed through the Apostolic Blessing, which blessing the priest almost always gives after conferring Extreme Unction. That a person in danger of death be able to gain this indulgence, besides the general conditions, it is required that he be ready to accept death with resignation from the hand of God, and that he invoke orally, if he can, the most holy name of Jesus, otherwise at least mentally. If all the conditions (also the forgiveness of all venial sins) for gaining a plenary indulgence are present at the moment of death, the person who has received the Apostolic Blessing goes straight to heaven, since the effect of this indulgence is deferred to that very last moment.

You may be edified by reading in English the concluding words of this Apostolic Blessing:

“May our Lord Jesus Christ, Son of the Living God, Who gave to His blessed Apostle Peter the power of binding and loosing, of His most tender mercy receive thy confession, and restore unto thee that first robe which thou didst receive in Baptism; and I, by the power committed to me by the Apostolic See, grant thee a plenary indulgence and remission of all thy sins. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.

“Through the most sacred mysteries of man” s redemption may God almighty remit unto thee the pains of the present and the future life, open to thee the gates of Paradise, and bring thee to everlasting joys. Amen.

“May God Almighty bless thee: the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost. Amen.”

No wonder good Catholic people get the priest at once as soon as somebody is seriously sick. They never put it off for a moment!

Does a person who is conscious when receiving the sacrament of Extreme Unction receive more benefit from it than one who is unconscious?

If at all possible Extreme Unction should be received while the subject is conscious and fully aware of what is taking place; for then he is still able to join in the motherly and fortifying prayers of the Church and to co-operate by his personal disposition with the efficaciousness of the sacrament.

The answer to your question is simply “Yes, of course.” Just to mention some of the more obvious effects, you may recall that, after the patient has received Extreme Unction while conscious, his is a more peaceful soul in a more peaceful body. He becomes less fretful and more at ease. His attitude is more cheerful. He is always relieved in mind and quite frequently also in body; for it is common to find that the reception of Extreme Unction appears to relieve pain.

Remember that Extreme Unction is a sacrament of the living. It was not instituted primarily for the forgiveness of mortal sin; by its very nature it gives an increase of sanctifying grace. That is why the custom of the Church calls for confession before Extreme Unction, and the divine law commands confession if one is in mortal sin and in danger of death. Hence the recipient of Extreme Unction should be in the state of grace; and, therefore, if he has mortal sin on his conscience, he must beforehand make an act of perfect contrition or receive absolution with attrition, or, if neither is possible, he must at least make an act of attrition (attrition is imperfect contrition). It is true that Extreme Unction forgives even mortal sin if a person had merely attrition for it and then before he could go to confession lost consciousness, as may happen in the case of an accident, etc. In such a case Extreme Unction produces first grace more surely than does absolution, since it does not call for any external manifestation of contrition. Hence the importance of anointing those who are dying but unconscious.

But that is all so much less sure and satisfying. No wonder, then that Church Law says: “Great care and solicitude must be used to have the sick person receive Extreme Unction while they are fully conscious.

YOU SAY, “CALL A PRIEST.” BUT WE DO NOT LIKE TO CALL HIM UNLESS THERE IS A REAL REASON FOR DOING SO. HOW SICK DOES ONE HAVE TO BE IN ORDER TO RECEIVE EXTREME UNCTION?

If the sick person seems to be in danger of death, even if that danger is not immediate or most serious or very serious, call the priest.

Even if the doctor or the sick person or his family or people in general think that there seems to be no danger of death, but one sensible person thinks that there is, call the priest.

When you are in doubt as to whether there is a danger of death or not, call the priest.

When a person is in danger of death because of old age, call the priest.

If the doctor or others think the sickness is light, but the sick person considers himself in danger of death and asks for Extreme Unction, call the priest.

If the doctor or some other prudent person thinks the sick person is in danger of death, but the sick person himself considers the disease to be light, call the priest.

If the sickness only lightly afflicts the ill person but is in reality dangerous, call the priest.

If the nature of the sickness is not known and there is a prudent doubt whether it is serious and dangerous or not, call the priest.

If a person has a sickness that carries with it a sure danger of death, though he may still live for many months, and there is reason to fear that later on he might not have a chance to receive Extreme Unction, call the priest.

If a person is suffering from a serious and dangerous disease and he is going to have an operation, and also if such a one refuses to have the operation, call the priest.

When there is a prudent doubt whether a sick person already anointed has got out of the danger of death in the same sickness and has fallen into another danger of death, call the priest.

If the patient was anointed when in danger of death from one disease and then gets into danger of death from another disease that developed after the first danger was over, call the priest.

When in doubt as to whether there is a new danger of death, call the priest.

If the patient falls into a new and distinct danger of death even in the same illness, call the priest.

If there is a new and distinct danger of death, irrespective of the length of time from the former anointing, call the priest.

When there is doubt whether, in the same illness, a patient has recovered from a former and fallen into a new danger, call the priest.

In case of a lingering illness, after a lapse of about a month from a former anointing, if it seems that the patient has recovered from a former and fallen into a new danger of death, call the priest.

If a sick person recovers from a dangerous illness in which he was anointed and then falls into another dangerous illness, call the priest.

If in the same sickness the sick person certainly recovered from the danger of death and then fell into another danger of death, call the priest.

If a person has just died without a priest, as long as there is no certain sign of death, that is, as long as it is still probable that there is life in him (which may be up to two hours or more), call the priest.

Lest the principal effect of the sacrament of Extreme Unction, namely, the comforting of the soul, be rendered entirely or almost null, be sure not to defer this sacrament until the dying person cannot at all, or only in a very imperfect way, co-operate with its graces, but in good time call the priest.

If an insane person who lost the use of reason after he had attained it, is sick and in danger of death, call the priest.

Even if such a mentally ill person who is sick and in danger of death has no lucid intervals, call the priest.

Even if the insane or unconscious who is sick and in danger of death cannot have any apparent devotion, call the priest.

Even if the insane who is sick and in danger of death is tossing about or is unruly, call the priest.

Finally (and this will cover many cases like polio, rheumatic fever, pneumonia, Caesarian section, complicated labour), if the sickness seems to be serious and dangerous, where it is real sickness and has been prudently considered dangerous, though there is really no immediate danger of death, call the priest.

Nihil Obstat:

W. M. COLLINS, Censor Dioc.

Imprimatur:

@ Daniel MANNIX,

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis.

19th October, 1954

********

Can A Jew Be A Christian?

BY REVEREND JOHN M. OESTERREICHER, DIRECTOR OF THE INSTITUTE OF JUDAEO-CHRISTIAN STUDIES, SETON HALL UNIVERSITY, U.S.A

INDEX

THERE are few events in the future as certain as the final recognition of Christ Jesus by Israel. It may be far or near, but come it will. Though not many reckon with it, it is surer than all our worldly expectations. Israel’s return to Christ, that cardinal theme of history, sounds again and again in the Old Testament. Like a great melody, it moves through the Holy Books. The prophet Zechariah (Zacharias) speaks in the Name of Christ.

I will pour out upon the House of David,

And upon the inhabitants of Jerusalem,

The spirit of grace, (the spirit) of prayer,

And they shall look unto Me

Whom they have pierced.

Indeed:

They shall mourn for Him,

As one mourns for an only son.

They shall lament over Him,

As one laments for the firstborn.

(ZECH. 12: 10)

But grief will become joy at having found Him Who is the Firstborn of all creation, the Firstborn of Israel, the One

Who is before and above all creatures, and at the same time, the Man of men, the Jew of Jews. When Israel endured the Babylonian Captivity, Jeremiah predicted:

Behold, the days come, says the Lord,

When I shall turn the captivity of My people . . . and I will cause them to return . . .

( JER. 30:3)

And with great passion he continued:

I have loved you with an everlasting love . . .

And I will build you again,

And you shall be built,

O virgin, Israel.

(JER. 31: 3, 4)

But it is not enough for the prophet to comfort his own people; he announces the good news to all the world: Hear the word of the Lord, O all you nations,

And declare it in the isles afar off, and say:

He that scattered Israel gathers him,

And keeps him as a shepherd does his flock.

(JER. 31:10)

The Babylonian Exile was a foreshadow of the present exile of the Jewish people, an exile most dire and sad in which Israel goes from suffering to suffering, an exile drenched with tears, an exile not only from the Land of Promise, but from tranquillity of heart. But as this exile is more bitter than the former, so will its end be sweeter. When the people were led back to Jerusalem by Zerubbabel (Zerobabel) and Joshua,

Their mouth was filled with laughter,

And their tongue with rejoicing.

(Ps. 126 [125]:2)

BUT HOW MUCH GREATER THE JOY, WHEN ISRAEL RETURNS TO THE NEW JERUSALEM

ALL ISRAEL WILL BE SAVED

This joy is not only foretold by the prophets of the Old Dispensation; it is announced by the Apostles of the New. St. Peter predicts that Israel’s turning to Christ will bring about the “times of refreshment,” “the day when all will be restored” (Acts 3: 20, 21). The heart of Saint Paul cries out: “All Israel will be saved” (Rom. 11: 26). And he calls the final union of Israel with Christ a “mystery,” that is, part of Divine Revelation, a matter of faith, an important truth. Ignorance of this great mystery the Apostle considers a danger to our souls, a detriment to our spiritual life, for its knowledge must fill our minds with wonder, with astonishment at God’s plan, with awe at His mercies. It must fill our hearts with love for Israel, the beloved of the Lord. How could it be otherwise? Who fully values, who appreciates this mystery, cannot but be drawn to them whom God will draw to Himself. No true Christian can refuse his particular affection to those with whom Christ does not wish to part, to those whom He will recall, who are the object of His Divine predilection.

The Apostle calls the turning of Israel to Christ a “revelation,” because his hope is based not on fancy, but on the word of Christ, on His solemn prediction that Israel would in the end seek His Presence. In the speech which was to be His last to Jerusalem, Jesus denounced her for having killed the prophets and messengers of God; He predicted Israel’s loneliness and despair because she had refused His protection. “As a hen gathers her young under her wings” (Luke 13: 34, 35), so had He offered to the children of Israel His care, His more-than-motherly affection. But they would have none of it; they would not hear the cry of His Heart. Having separated themselves from It, they were bound to be desolate. And yet their suffering would not last forever: “You shall not see Me henceforth till you say, Blessed be He that comes in the Name of the Lord.” (Matt. 23: 39)

THE PEOPLE BORN TO PRAISE here will be a time when Israel will see, and bear her heart to Christ, when the Light will pierce the cloud and show her the world and her part in it in the blessed vision of faith. There will be a day when the people of Israel, born to praise, the people to whom, as to no other nation, God gave the power to sing the songs of benediction—there will be an hour when

Israel, who was made to be God’s chanter, the psalmist of the Lord, will fill the earth with her shout: “Blessed be He!”

That, one holy morn, Israel will rejoice in her Messiah, the Church believes with that utter certainty only His word can give. She prays because she loves; she prays to hasten that day.

That day is here, if only on a small scale, and it is anticipated, when even one Jew accepts Christ. Little wonder that the

Church rejoices on that day! Her joy, the joy of the true Christian, is expressed in a letter written by Pope Gregory IX on the 5th day of May, 1236: “To all who come to the Christian faith,” he wrote, “we open the bowels of paternal affection, desiring as we do the salvation of everyone. Yet converts from Judaism we embrace with even greater affection. For,” he continued, using St. Paul’s image, “this is our hope: If a branch of the wild olive, against its nature grafted unto the good, brings forth delightful fruit, all the more will those branches which had been broken off the sacred root (bring forth sweet fruit) when, in harmony with their nature, they are grafted onto the good olive.”

The holy and consecrated root of which the Pope speaks is the patriarchs, Abraham, Isaac and Jacob. The Gentiles, against their nature—that is, contrary to their habit of idolatry—became the spiritual children of the Fathers of Israel. The children of Israel, however, are like branches broken off the parent-root; but their nature—that means, their holy lineage, their glorious past, and the promises given them—as well as the sufferings they endure and the need of their hearts: all these urge them, ought to urge them, to share the full life of the parent-tree, to accept Christ, His teaching and His grace.

[See Romans chapter 11.]

THE JEWISH HOMELAND

The true Jewish homeland is the Kingdom of Christ; this can be heard in the words of Gregory IX. Only in and with Christ can the Jewish soul fully blossom. There is a realm whose gates are wide open, which no Government may bar, a realm which the descendant of Abraham may enter by Divine right, to which he belongs by a heavenly privilege and calling: the Catholic Church. How strongly this contrasts with the opinion expressed by many Jews: that a Jew can have no home in the Catholic Church because he cannot sincerely accept the Virgin Birth, the Incarnation, the Crucifixion as an Atonement, the Resurrection of Christ, and other dogmas of the Catholic faith. It is true, the Jew, being human, has difficulty, like other men, in submitting to truths which surpass man’s own concepts, man’s little experience, his narrow outlook.

However, it has always been Jewish belief that God the Creator is omnipotent, the Master of His laws; it has always been Jewish belief that the Word of God came to Moses out of a bush burning but not burnt, aflame but unconsumed. Why then should a Jew be unable to believe that Christ was born of a Virgin? Jewish tradition speaks of the Shekinah, God’s Presence abiding with men, dwelling in exile, suffering and weeping with Israel. Why then should a Jew find it impossible to believe that God became Man? The Ceremonial Law of the Old Testament ordained the sacrifice of animals, whose blood, offered with contrite heart, helped to atone for sins. Why then should a Jew find alien the belief in the expiatory sacrifice of the One Who gave His life in love? Every believing Jew hopes for the resurrection of the flesh. Hence, there can be nothing foreign in the message that Christ rose from the dead. Anyone, Jew or Christian, who maintains that a Jew cannot truly accept Christianity, sets man against man, makes truth a matter of geography, an accident of birth, and the spirit the offspring of blood. He makes religion depend on race, and not on our one human nature and the Divine grace given to all. He aligns himself with the murderous and suicidal ideology of Hitler.

There are others who say that only people unbalanced, unhappy, and restless, turn to the Church. What a tribute to her healing powers! There is truth in what they think an accusation, for the complacent do not look beyond themselves. Only those who are unsatisfied with human insufficiency, aware of the evil in the heart of man, conscious that they are not what they ought to be, will look above themselves and seek the Light. There are only two kinds of people in this world: those who flee from God and those who flee to God. Those who pretend to be settled are really escaping reality, but those who seek will find peace. “Our hearts are restless,” says Saint Augustine, “till they rest in God.”

A PHILOSOPHER AND A RABBI

Henri Bergson, probably the greatest philosopher of our day, gave half a lifetime to a patient and tenacious inquiry into the origin of morality and religion. In the course of his investigations, he studied the writings of the great mystics, the men and women who open their souls to the stream of Divine Love, those who live in the Lord, the helpers of God, as he calls them with Saint Paul. He trusted their experience, and his study convinced him of the uniqueness of Christianity. He himself stated once that in his research, he had set himself no definite goal. And, “It is not my fault,” he added, “if all the good roads lead to the Gospel.” In his last will and testament, he declared: “My reflections have led me nearer and nearer to Catholicism, in which I see the complete fulfilment of Judaism.” And he expressed this wish: “I hope that a Catholic priest, if the Cardinal-Archbishop of Paris permit it, will say the prayers (of the Church) at my burial.”

Who seeks will find. Another instance of this truth is the story of the former Rabbi of Rome, Eugenio Zolli. Decades of study of the New Testament made him realize that Jesus is the Great Teacher. He began his book on Christ with the words of the Gospel: “Never did man speak like this Man” (John 7.45). He came to realize that Jesus was the Teacher of teachers, the Great Sufferer, “the Flame which, after having consumed itself in this world, is resplendent with imperishable life in another.” Finally he accepted Him as the Messiah, the Son of God, and could say: “O Jesus, what joy when I shall be no longer mine, but shall be all Yours!” Once an American journalist asked him whether it had not been the Jesuits who converted him. His answer was a Talmudic legend: A harp was hanging over the bed of King David. Before dawn, a soft wind passed through the strings, and of itself it intoned a hymn. And the King arose and began a song to the Lord. The former Rabbi added: “My poor and humble soul was like a harp, suspended over my head. Under the sweet touch of Christ’s hand, it sang a wonderful song.” Zolli thinks of his conversion not as a radical change, but as the gentle conclusion of his searching for the Kingdom of God. In a letter to me, he said that for many, many years he had been drawn, led on to Christ; in fact, that his conversion had begun in his childhood, when he helped his mother in her works of charity.

Like Henri Bergson, Eugenio Zolli recognized the New Testament as the completion of the Old, as the unfolding of its hidden treasures. And he recognized that on the Church rests the dignity of Israel, exalted, enhanced, enriched by the Messiah Who has come. Both Bergson and Zolli were drawn to Christ and His Church by the all-embracing, the Universal love of the Gospel.

HATE DESTROYS

Many more Jews would be drawn in the same way were it not for half-Christians who obscure the light of the Gospels; were it not for anti-Semites who impede (as far as is in their power) the flow of Christ’s love. The antagonism towards Jews found among Christians is often hardly more than thoughtlessness, for no Christian could give way to it did he realize the gravity and danger of anti-Semitism, the danger that lies in submitting to reactions of the world and the flesh, to reactions unregenerated and unbaptized. Like all hatred, anti-Semitism makes a man who practises it, a foe of Christ, a brother of Caiphas, a follower of Barabbas. The anti-Semite, had he been in the council that condemned Our Lord, would also have cried: “He is guilty of death,” and had he had been among the crowd in front of the governor’s palace, he, too, would have clamoured for Barabbas. Akin to the Roman governor, cousin to Pilate, however, is the spiritual coward, the man who condones hatred, anti-Semitism or any other. Had he been in Pilate’s chair, he likewise would have consented to the crucifixion of Christ.

Hate is a destroyer. The hatred of races or nations, groups or persons, profanes the Name of God in Whose image man is created; profanes the Name of Christ, Who shed His blood for all. Hate is death, and so is indifference.

LOVE CONQUERS

Love, however, is life, At the time of the occupation of France and the persecution of the Jews by the Nazis, there was no monastery, whether it followed the rule of Saint Benedict, of Saint Bruno, or of Saint Francis, which did not conceal a Jew, often hiding him under the brown or white habit of a professed monk or lay brother. One of these, having left the monastery which had sheltered him, likes now to talk about the emotion he felt in the plain and solemn chapel of the Trappists, filled with the Presence of the Lord, where he heard His praise sung day and night, hour by hour, in the beautiful words of David, the Holy King. “The Temple of Jerusalem,” he said, “seemed to have come back to life.” Another lived for three years, also in the Trappist Abbey. He was entrusted with an office, the charge of the table of the community, and did his work with great zeal. Gradually he came to love monastic life, “brethren dwelling together in unity,” singing the new canticle of love. There he found men who had dedicated their lives to the one thing necessary, the thing most splendid and yet ignored by the world. He became a monk himself, devoting his life to silence and prayer, to meditation on divine things, to the Work of God, to the glorification of His Name.

Whenever a Jew turns to Christ, grace enriches the world. Whenever in his heart he annuls the rejection of the Messiah by his forefathers, overturns their decision, love is master. Whenever he rejoices: “Blessed be He that comes in the Name of the Lord!” life conquers death.

Nihil Obstat:

W. M. COLLINS, Diocesan Censor.

Imprimatur:

@ D. MANNIX,

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis 18th April, 1955

********

Can I Keep Pure?

BY REV. ROBERT NASH, S.J

INDEX

Father McKeogh picked up the letter and read it over a second and a third time. “Father, I”m down again, sunk once more in misery. In spite of your marvellous kindness and advice, here I am back at the old game. It’s no use trying, I fear, so please don’t bother further about me. I”m not worth it. I can’t keep pure, much as I long to, so there’s nothing for it but to settle down to the inevitable. What can a slave do but obey?” “Poor Fred!” thought the priest, and his eyes wandered across the room in the direction of the large crucifix hanging there over his priedieu. “Not worth it, indeed! Well, He thinks you are worththat! He has “bothered” that much about you, and don’t I know well that He is watching your struggles, and that there is infinite mercy andinfinite understanding in His eyes?”

VICTORY CERTAIN

It is the devil’s business to chain down his victim, and then to persuade him that the chain cannot be broken. Be it said from the start that no case is hopeless. Temptations there may be, temptations there will be, even fierce temptations; but ultimate victory is assured on the word of Holy Scripture itself. “God is faithful,” writes St. Paul, “Who will not allow you to be tempted beyond that which you are able, but will make also with the temptationissue that you may bear it.” Who knew this better by his own experience than the same apostle? He had to struggle with a humiliating temptation, and three times he cried out to the Lord and implored Him to deliver him. But God would not remove this fiercetrial. “My grace is sufficient for thee,” he was told, “for virtue is made perfect in infirmity.” Gallant soldier of Christ that he was, St. Paul kept up the fight for purity against fearful odds. “Unhappy man that I am,” he moaned, almost in despair, “who will deliver me from the body of this death? I see another law in my members, fighting against the law of my mind. To will is present with me, but to do I find not.” But at last deliverance did come. “Blessed be God Who hath given us the victory through Our Lord Jesus Christ!”

Purity is a gift which God loves to bestow. Purity is a treasure which can always be recovered, no matter how deeply it may have been steeped in the mud. The way from guilt, especially from habitual guilt, back to innocence, may be, and probably will be, a wearisome uphill journey. Many times the poor soul will be assailed, many times she will be ready to believe that purity is an idle dream, at least where she is concerned. Purity is precious, a pearl of great price. Like everything else worth having, it costs; but, unlike many other things worth having, it is possible of attainment. Saints have to struggle: sinners have to struggle. To sinners and to saints Christ assures the palm of victory. This paper aims at putting forward a few practical hints which, it is hoped, may encourage the man or woman who knows, indeed, that purity is everything that is lovable and beautiful, but at the same time feels the fascination of the opposite vice. Now, it would seem that many sins of impurity are committed through lack of understanding of the dignity of a human being. A human being, says the Psalmist, is a little less than an angel, and in another place he goes so far as to declare that we are gods, “all of you sons of the Most High.” St. Paul insists on our dignity when he writes that our bodies are temples in which God dwells habitually by grace. “Know you not that your bodies are the temple of God? . . . that the Spirit of God dwelleth in you? . . . The temple of God is holy, which you are.” Finally, Our Divine Lord Himself gives us a glimpse of the height to which we have been raised when He teaches us about this same indwelling of God within us. “If any man love Me, My Father will love him and We will come to him, and take up our abode with him.”

TEMPLE AND TABERNACLE

Man’s body, therefore, is God’s temple. By sanctifying grace there is instituted a real presence of God in that temple. Now, we know that when we enter one of our stately temples at the present day we look instinctively, first of all, towards the tabernacle. Men will melt down their gold and silver to beautify the temple, because the temple contains a tabernacle, and the tabernacle is the place where God dwells. In just the same way, the soul of man is a tabernacle. He consists of body and soul, and if the body be the temple, the soul is the tabernacle in which God takes up His permanent abode. This is no myth. When the little infant is brought to the Baptismal font something happens analogous to what took place long ago, when Our Lord drove the buyers and sellers out of the temple. A usurper has set up his throne in that child’s soul. Through no fault of the child, the evil one is in possession; but what a marvel takes place at the moment of Baptism! “Depart, unclean spirit,” orders the priest, “from this creature fashioned of God, whom our Lord has deigned to call unto His holy temple, so that he may become a temple of the living God and that the Holy Spirit may dwell in him.” The waters of Baptism are now poured on the child’s head, and God enters into His temple and takes up His abode in that tabernacle.

IN THE SIGHT OF THE ANGELS

If at this moment the nurse holding that tiny infant could see into its soul, as the angels see, she would drop on her knees in adoration, imaginingthat an object so beautiful as a soul in sanctifying grace must be God Himself! Into man’s soul God has poured a share of His own divine life, so that St. Peter does not hesitate to say that we are sharers of the divine nature. Man is lord of creation. “Thou hast made him a little less than the angels,” sings the Psalmist; “Thou hast crowned him with glory and honour, and hast set him over the works of Thy hands.” But all this greatness and dignity of man is only a prelude to the eternal destiny awaiting him. The seed of divine life sown in Baptism is to develop. Man is launched out on the great adventure called life, during which he is to grow in love of God and in union with Him. Death will come, then, and ultimately soul and body, tabernacle and temple, are to be rebuilt, re-united, and, beautified a thousandfold, to be received into the everlasting dwellings amongst the mansions in the house of our Father in heaven. That, in briefest outline, is the history of man’s greatness.

We know from the Book of Genesis that “God formed man of the slime of the earth, and breathed into his face the breath of life, and man became a living soul.” Soon after, “the Lord God cast a deep sleep upon Adam, and when he was fast asleep He took one of his ribs and filled up flesh for it. And the Lord God built the rib which He took from Adam into a woman, and brought her to Adam.” He is God Almighty exercising a marvellous power which belongs to Him alone-the power of creating. At His omnipotent word land and sea appeared; the heavens, with sun, moon and stars, leaped into being; the vast oceans, the fishes of the sea, the birds of the air, the beasts of the earth-all these God called forth from nothingness, and His order met with instant obedience.

In this way, too, the first man and woman came direct from His creative hand. He might, had He chosen, have continued by a fresh act to create each man and each woman, but, in His love for His children, He preferred actually to share with them His stupendous power of creating. The first man and woman were to be co-creators.

A SACRED TRUST

God wanted sons and daughters to fill the earth, and afterwards to enjoy the ecstatic happiness He had prepared for them in heaven. So He conferred on man and woman the power to help Him in His task. They were to give Him the temple, the human body, and in that temple He would erect the tabernacle, the immortal soul in which He would dwell. And that God-given power, entrusted to Adam and Eve in Paradise, has been passed down to subsequent generations. Man consists of body and soul, temple and tabernacle. From his parents, using the sacred rights and privileges they hold from God, he receives his body, God’s temple. His immortal soul, the tabernacle of that temple, God’s masterpiece, comes to him direct from the creative hand of God. God Himself sets up that tabernacle in that temple, and, at Baptism, enters into it to take possession. Wondrous love of God, sharing such a sublime privilege with His creatures, that parents should be permitted to co-operate with Him in calling into being a child destined to be His dwelling-place here, and the friend and intimate companion of His angels in eternity!

It is clear that the use of this power entails many responsibilities and hardships for the parents. For the woman there is the discomfort of pregnancy and the anguish of giving birth. For both father and mother there is the hard work generally necessary to feed and educate the children; the constant patience needed; the spirit of self-sacrifice exacted in attending to the numerous wants of the family. Then, as the children grow up, there is the anxiety to see them well placed in life, to shield them from the seduction of sin; there is worry about the health of their bodies; and not infrequently, too, about the welfare of their souls.

All this pain, all this uncertainty, possible sickness or poverty or hardship, weighty responsibilities-who would face all that and much more in the married state unless there went with it some great reward? And here again Almighty God intervenes. In the hearts of the parents He places a strong mutual love. They are drawn towards each other almost irresistibly, so that life for one without the other seems impossible to live. And that pure, God-implanted love in their hearts finds its fullest expression in the exercise of their power to co-create. So deep and satisfying is this affection that it amply compensates for all the trials and difficulties of married life. It is part of the reward given by the Father in heaven for the faithful fulfilment of a sacred trust.

GUARDED BY GOD”S LAW

Since the power to co-create and the very strong pleasure accompanying it are both given by God, God has surely absolute right to determine the circumstances under which both may be used. And in this matter He leaves men and women in no state of doubt. So sacred is this power that God has forbidden all wilful use of it except in marriage. Deliberately to seek the pleasure accompanying that power outside of marriage, even in the smallest degree, whether whenalone or with others, is a mortal sin against God’s law. And, even in marriage, it is a mortal sin to seek the pleasure in a manner devised to frustrate God’s design in instituting marriage. Now, note, it is not the tendency itself that is sinful-we have just seen that it comes from God. Nor is it stated that feelings are necessarily sinful. Often you cannot help your feelings. You may feel depressed on a dreary day when the clouds are black and the rain is continuous. But you cannot change the weather, no more can you change your feelings. Neither are thoughts about sexual matters of necessity sinful. These thoughts may come to you at most sacred moments, even when you are kneeling at the altar waiting for Holy Communion, and there need not be attaching to them the faintest shadow of sin. For sin lies, not in the tendency, nor in the feelings, nor yet in the thoughts. Sin is in the consent of the will. That is why God’s Law is violated in the matter we are discussing, only by a deliberate seeking of sexual gratification outside of marriage. It is very easy to sully sacred things. Pearls must be cast underneath the feet of swine.

CATHOLICS DON”T

Our first practical hint, then, is to have a right understanding of man’s dignity and of the law given by God to safeguard that dignity. You will sometimes be told that in this matter the Church is too strict. Notice well, that the Law does not come from the Church merely in the same way, for example, as the law of fasting and abstinence. The law concerning purity comes direct from God Himself. All the Church does-and she has done it for centuries-is fearlessly and consistently to proclaim that that is the Law. She has not made it, and she does not change it, for the simple reason that she has not the power to do so. She received it from God, so that in her teaching she can never yield to mere expediency or to the specious arguments of the “new morality.” The sex instinct is good and holy-planted in the human heart by God Himself for a definite purpose. The gratification of the instinct, too, has a very sublime purpose-it is a pleasure granted by God as a reward for the faithful discharge of the duties of married life. Hence, the pleasure is secondary, a means to an end, and to make it an end in itself, or deliberately to seek to do this outside of marriage, is a mortal sin. It is a misuse, in a most serious matter, of a very sacred power. But why do we say that the smallest degree of such deliberate seeking is a mortal sin? The question seems to answer itself. Let a man give way in this matter, even ,the smallest degree, and very soon he will find to his bitter sorrow that he has let loose a wild beast in his heart. That beast becomes more and more insatiable. Let small gratifications be lawful, and very soon men and women are swept into a very inferno of vice and passion.

A PITILESS WORLD

That is the atmosphere in which our young boys and girls have to live and preserve inviolate the lily of purity. Not so easy, is it? How can they be helped? By remembering the old adage: Look before you leap! For there is another side to the alluring programme laid out by the world and its votaries. First of all, nothing is more inconsistent than the attitude of the world towards sin and the sinner. The world praises sin, decks out sin in a very attractive garb, persuades a young man or woman that sin is the road to happiness and joy. But let that boy or girl listen, and be drawn into the gutter by the fine promises of the world, and then the world regards with stony eyes the victim it has seduced. The world now, at best, turns on its heel with a sneer for the shame its own counsel has wrought, or at worst it even uses its heel to crush its victim deeper still into the mud. You remember how Judas was deceived by the flattery and the money of the world. But when he had sinned he rushed back with those coins that are now burning in his hands like coals of fire. “I have sinned,” he cried, in a voice hoarse with misery and despair. “I have sinned in betraying innocent blood.” What a reception he got from the very men who had goaded him on to his sin! They are finished with Judas. They tempted him, it is true; they allured him and paid him, and they managed to persuade him that the money would make him happy. Well, he was fool enough to take their advice; let them bide by it now! “Innocent blood, indeed! That is your own affair,” and they laughed him to scorn.

How hard and merciless the world is at the very moment the sinner is hungering for a crumb of sympathy! That harsh treatment is the portion meted out to every sinner. Let a young man or woman listen to the fair promises of the world; let him or her try them out and experience how they turn to ashes at the first touch, and then the world laughs airily and goes off in search of new victims. It would be easy here, did space allow, to draw the contrast with the treatment given by the Church to the sinner. Before the sin, the Church, like a loving anxious mother, will leave nothing undone to shield her child who is in danger of sinning. But let that boy or girl fall into the gutter and at once that tender mother is all love and mercy. She rushes to pick up that child and set his feet once more on the road to purity and happiness. The Church never rejects a truly repentant sinner, for Jesus, her Founder, was the Friend of sinners, and there is not a single instance in th e Gospel where He treated a contrite sinner with harshness.

The Church regards you as a living temple of God, in whom He has set up His tabernacle-your immortal soul radiant with the beauty of sanctifying grace. The world looks upon you as a creature of pleasure-seek pleasure where you can and forget that you are God’s son; try to imagine that you are little more than a sleek horse or hound. Follow the world’s advice, and she rocks with laughter over your mistakes. Consider now what are the results to yourself of the sin of impurity, and what are the results to yourself of a pure life? The answer to these two questions will furnish what we want to propose as our next two helps in the guarding of the tabernacle door.

A DESECRATED TABERNACLE

What does this sin bring to a man or woman? Happiness and joy and peace?

No doubt the world will tell you that these things will result from sin. The poor victim is swept off his feet by passion, and decides, for the time being, at any rate, that nothing matters except this violent spasm of pleasure. And when the thrill has passed, and the sinner is normal once more? Let it be granted that the sin while being actually committed brings with it a kind of ecstasy. That passes by; at once there is a fearful reaction, and the poor sinner is filled with misery, with shame, with remorse, sometimes even with a sense of despair. Have you ever seen a young man sitting with his head between his hands and sobbing like a child, because of the grip this sin has obtained of him? Have you ever heard a young girl in her prime declare that she was “fed-up” with life, with no interest in anything, no energy, no power to concentrate because she has yielded to the allurements of the world and the devil, and thought that sin would give her happiness? Your body is God’s temple; your soul is His tabernacle. Commit this hateful sin, and, as you walk home that night, know thatthe door of that tabernacle has been smashed open; know that God’s Presence no longer shines there; know that the temple, your body, has been sullied. You walk home after that sin-a desecrated tabernacle! And if there has been a partner in your guilt, if you have tempted another and drawn another into sin, you have had the hardihood to break open yet another tabernacle, to expel God from that soul; you have reduced to ruins another temple of the living God.

And now that the thrill is passed and gone, you are as far as ever from being satisfied. The wild beast let loose in your breast clamours more imperiously than ever for further gratification. Let a tiger once taste blood and he becomes mad for more. This is the joy, this the happiness, this the satisfaction the world and passion promised you! God’s Law is very sacred, and nowhere, perhaps, do we see such terrible penalties exacted, even in this life, as from those who violate it in this matter.

RUINED TEMPLES

A desecrated tabernacle! Is it necessary to tell how even the temple, too, is reduced to a heap of ruins? Do you know of the unfortunate imbecile little children, the offspring of this hateful sin? Have you ever visited hospitals and seen the shameful diseases impurity has caused? Have you gone into a mental home and reckoned how many men and women have been driven in there, goaded to madness by the repeated excesses of this merciless tyranny? A desecrated tabernacle. A ruined temple. Scorn from the very world which allured to the sin. A sense of being utterly forsaken. Loss of peace. No power to concentrate. A wild beast let loose in the heart. A crushing load of misery pressing upon the soul.

Would that this were an exaggeration of the results of this terrible sin! Would that this were not a fair statement of the results to a poor man or woman who foolishly believes that the way of passion is the way of happiness. “Man when he was in honour did not understand; he hath compared himself to the brute beasts and is become as one of them.” Blighted lives, will-power sapped, your finer instincts blunted-all this bears eloquent and sad testimony to the truth of the Psalmist’s words. Such a fearful toll to pay for a moment’s thrill! Surely a powerful warning to guard the door that leads into the tabernacle! Look before you leap. It is painful to write these things, but it is becoming increasingly important to look them straight in the face. Don’t be feather-headed. Don’t be led astray by fine promises. Happiness lies not that way. Sin is sweet, granted. Poison, too. is sweet. But in both it is a sweetness too dearly purchased.

GOD IN HIS TABERNACLE

You will never find a sinner who is happy. You will find sinners who are boastful, hilarious, reckless, and they will tell you that they are living their own lives. The truth is that they are slaves. They know it, too, and in their moments of sanity they will admit it. Neither will you ever find a pure man or woman who is unhappy. You will find them poor, but poverty is not unhappiness. You will see them suffer intense pain, but pain has no great terrors for a man who acts up to his conscience. Happier a thousand times is the beggar shivering in his rags at the street corner if his heart be pure, than the millionaire rolling by in his car if he be impure. Far better sickness of the body than leprosy of soul ! Far better a living tabernacle in a temple that is sinless, even if it be poverty-stricken, than a desecrated tabernacle in a temple, apparently indeed fair to behold, but in reality reeking with corruption! A poor woman lay in her little cottage, a great sufferer. She had a dreadful cancer on her breast. Was she happy? “There is not a happier woman in the parish, Father. I often think how much worse off I”d be if I had the cancer of mortal sin on my soul!”

COMPANY-KEEPING

Since God’s Law is so strict, what, then, about company-keeping? Is company-keeping a sin?* We have seen that marriage is holy and sacred: more than that, Our Divine Lord has raised it to the dignity of a sacrament. If marriage be so elevated a thing, if it comes from God, if it is a source of grace to the soul, then the preparation for marriage must also be

* There can be no question here of advocating company-keeping that is indiscriminate -with all and sundry. Companykeeping is envisaged only in so far as it “constitutes the preparation for marriage.” From the precautions insisted on in the pages that follow, the reader will easily deduce that there must be a reasonable prospect of marriage not long to be deferred, and that the boy and girl must be of the age and position soon to face the responsibilities of married life. In many cases company-keeping is sinful, and long remains so precisely because these conditions are not present. beautiful and holy. Now, company-keeping constitutes this preparation. Clearly, boys and girls must meet and get to know each other. God, of deliberate purpose, has made the sexes attractive to each other. A boy reacts towards a girl in a way that he never would react towards another boy. A girl experiences a sense of pleasure in a boy’s company which she does not get when with her girl friends. There is nothing wrong in that. God has wished that to be so. Further, it is God’s will, normally, that a day will come when a boy and girl will enter into each other’s lives, and into their hearts He will pour a great mutual love. There is nothing wrong in that either. There is nothing to cloak over or be ashamed of in that. God has willed it so. The time has come when He has chosen these two to help in the fulfilment of His divine plan. This great love is His gift. He gives it to them in order to induce them to help Him, and it will reach its climax on the day when they present to Him a temple, and He will erect His tabernacle in that temple. Marriage is thus a vocation, a great sacrament, and, like every other sacrament, it demands before its reception a careful and worthy preparation.

Despite the pagan atmosphere of today there are thousands, thank God, who never swerve from that difficult path, thousands who come to the altar with their hearts as pure as they were on the day of Baptism. How are you going to secure that? Are there any practical hints to strengthen our young people to keep company as God means them to keep it?

First of all, I would ask you to consider that the very worst injury you could inflict on your most deadly enemy would be to make him commit a mortal sin. To drive God out of his soul and to imperil his eternal salvation-what evil could be imagined more terrible? Now, if you love your partner, if there is in your heart the pure, beautiful love implanted by God, not the cheap, selfish passion that so often masquerades as this love-if this holy affection, with its sublime purpose, has been put into your heart for another by God, you don’t want to inflict the most terrible injury of all on that other, do you? You don’t want to make that other a desecrated tabernacle, do you? Far from it. If you are a girl, God has given you a marvellous power here. You have it in your hands to decide whether you are going to be an angel guardian to your boy, or a pawn in the devil’s game to sweep him off his feet. Remember, you are the stronger of the two. God has made you so, and in consequence yours is the greater responsibility. Your boy will succumb more easily than you. It is easier for him to sin than for you. Hence help him to be loyal to Christ. Do not be his mortal enemy, stealing up to the door of his tabernacle, laying siege to it, and ultimately battering it in pieces. The world will tell you: You love each other, therefore indulge in passionate signs of this love, and make sure you go into places where you are free to do so. The Catholic’s answer comes readily: No, we are not going to do these things; we are not going into these places, just precisely because we do love each other.

True love proves itself by sacrifice.

Again, if you are a girl (for if our girls are pure our boys will be pure, too), your strength of character will win that boy’s affection and admiration, if he is a boy worthy of your love. He will realize that you are a treasure worth having, not a toy to be played with and then cast aside when the whim takes him. Your loyalty to Christ and God’s Law may lose you, indeed, a popinjay who is out for “a good time,” but have no fear that you will lose a man worthy of your heart’s affection. And, even if you were never to marry, to die rather than offend God, especially by mortal sin, is heroism. “I would rather die keeping God’s Law than live breaking it,” said a fine girl of this type. But it is not God’s way to allow Himself to be outdone in generosity. Stand loyal to Him and His Law, and you are safe in entrusting your future to His hands.

WEDDING BELLS

Every boy and girl who are bound to each other by this pure love look forward to the great day when they will place the seal of that love before God’s altar on their marriage morning. They will often think about that day and discuss their plans, and tell each other that it is now so many months or so many weeks hence. If there is any day in their whole lives when they want above all to have deep happiness in their hearts, it is that marriage day. If ever they want God’s special blessing, it is surely the day when they enter on this sacred and weighty responsibility. And they want that blessing to endure throughout all the years of married life. Especially do they want that blessing to descend on their future children. One has known cases where this consideration has proved an immense help during the period of company-keeping. No doubt about it, the way to win God’s special blessing is sacrifice. Of course, when you love another, there is the strong tendency to satisfy that love to its fullest extent, or to indulge in conduct that would pave the way for such full satisfaction. But you are not going to do it-why? Because we are both offering a sacrifice, an act of self-denial, to God Almighty. And with what object in view? We want that sacrifice to mount up before His throne and to bring down on ourselves and on our children His special blessing. Once again, do not imagine that the generous God is going to allow Himself to be outdone in generosity. You will love each other even more than ever, and the sacrifice you make will bring into your hearts a joy so great that you will scarcely be able to contain it. Even at the moment you make the sacrifice, the reward comes. But that reward is only a foretaste of the joy you will have on your wedding day, when you can look back and see how faithfully you have both guarded the door of the tabernacle when the temptation to break it open was so strong. It is only a prelude to the deep joy that will be yours when you gather your little children lovingly about you and know that you can look straight into their eyes and see reflected there the innocence they have inherited from you. Yes, it was worth while, even though at the time the struggle may have been hard!

On the other hand, if marriages turn out unhappy, what is often the explanation? Is it not that they were preceded by sinful, cheap company-keeping? Even if this culminates in marriage, the seeds have been sown for mutual distrust, and the pair are not long united before that seed begins to produce a plentiful crop of weeds. Familiarity has breeded contempt. Love has spent itself at the very time it should be the adornment and the glory of married life. Hence follow abuse, quarrels, distrust, weariness of each other’s company. This is the devil’s opportunity, and there is no need to specify further how he seizes upon it if purity and self-sacrifice before marriage are rewarded by true joy and happiness in that holy state, sin and laxity before marriage not infrequently produce the miseries that make folk groan and lament and curse the day they met their partner.

IN MARY”S COMPANY

You have been warned not to be too much alone when keeping company. Now, we are going to give even stronger advice. Never be alone! Never? No, never. By that counsel we mean that you should never be in a place where the Mother of God cannot be with you. She is always to be one of the party. You are her children, both of you, and her Son wants you to love each other. Be very simple in your filial love for that Mother, and see to it that your conduct is always such that she can bless and approve. Must you leave Mary Immaculate behind you when you walk into that place? Can you allow these intimacies in her presence? If you say sincerely that you can, then I answer you are company-keeping in the way her divine Son wants you to keep it. But if, with any number of grand reasons to be sure, you know in your heart that you would be filled with confusion if she suddenly joined you and your partner, that there would be shame and a sense of guilt in sight of her Immaculate purity, then be assured-whatever the happy world tells you, whatever arguments you may try to bolster up-be assured that you are wrong, you are offending God. Perhaps you are actually offending Him mortally; if you are not, you are heading straight for mortal sin. The red flag is out, the danger signal is raised; unless you take timely warning you are going to have disaster on the line.

We began these notes with an extract from a letter. It need hardly be said that the extract is fictitious, though everybody knows that many a poor victim of impurity could have written it. All that we have been saying in praise of purity will tend, perhaps, only to discourage such a poor sufferer the more. “I know all that. I wish to God I could be pure. I”ve tried, but it’s beyond me.”

BE OF GOOD HEART

It was Father Wm. Doyle who used to say that discouragement is the devil’s pet walking-stick. Nowhere does he use it more effectively than when he beats with it a poor man or woman who has contracted the habit of this terrible sin. Now, first of all, let us suppose the worst. Suppose this thing has been going on for years. Suppose you have made Confessions and fallen again, even immediately after Confession. Suppose, then, that you gave up going to the Sacraments, arguing that it was no use receiving them sacrilegiously. Years have gone on in this state, and there comes times in your life when you think of doing away with yourself in order to end this misery. Add on as many more sad details as you need to fit your own case. Now, looking at all that failure after failure, thinking over the years that have been squandered, of the others you led into sin, of the ruined temples and the desecrated tabernacles, of the unworthy Confessions and Holy Communions-realizing fully the disastrous shipwreck you have made of your life, and perhaps of the lives of others, I tell you that sin can yet be conquered and you can still be fully restored to the peace and happiness of a pure life. It is not going to be easy, but it is possible. More than that, it is certain that God wants to give you this gift, and it is certain that He will give it, if you do your” part to receive it.

The first enemy you must attack and slay is depression. If you keep on telling yourself that purity is impossible, when even the saints experience how very difficult it is, your chances of overcoming your habit will sink at once to near zero. What you are losing sight of is that purity is a gift that comes from God, not from yourself. You cannot have even a good thought of yourself, without the grace of God. Still less can you keep God’s Law in this matter if you depend on yourself. To say that your will is too weak to accomplish this task is sheer nonsense. Why? Because you are implying that you are different from every other man and woman on the face of the globe. It isimpossible for everybody, apart from God’s grace. That man is mad who plumes himself on his virtue as though it were his own doing, and his pride will probably soon bring him low. Therefore, do recognize that it is not you who are going to succeed, but you, all weakness indeed, united to the strength of God Himself.

DOCTOR”S ORDERS

You have given up the Sacraments? Let us put forward a little parable. A man visits his doctor and tells him he is in dreadful pain. The doctor examines his patient, and presently smiles cheerfully. He has discovered exactly what the root of the trouble is, and he assures his patient of a complete cure. Only let him take this prescription to a chemist, use it as directed, and the cure is certain. Not a doubt about it. What would you think of the patient if, on coming out of the doctor’s house, he tore up the prescription scornfully, flung the small pieces into the waste-paper basket, and went his way murmuring that he could not be bothered with such a remedy? You would, say, of course, that he had no desire to be cured.

Here was an infallible remedy put into his hands, and he will not take it. Doctors cannot always give infallible remedies, but Jesus Christ, the Physician of your soul, has given you such a remedy in His sacraments. When you come to Confession, you have to promise, with great sincerity, that you will not sin again, and that you will step clear of those free proximate occasions of sin, come what may.* If your promise here and now is from your heart, you have made a good Confession. Rise from your knees and face life anew. Your soul is as pure as it was on the day you were baptized. Forget the past and look forward hopefully to the future.

And if, in spite of your firm determination, you fall again? Go again to Confession, and without delay. Do not wait till the end of a month or even a week. Go at the first opportunity. Only God can judge of your guilt in this new lapse. Return quickly toyour Father’s House. He tells you not to fear Him even if you have to return seventy times seven times. The important point is that you should return. Go to the same priest regularly, and be very candid with him.

JESUS AND I

The devil wants, above all else, to take you on single-handed. That is why he will leave nothing undone to keep you from going to Holy Communion. He knows well that therein lies your strength. Holy Communion means that the strong Christ

* No petition ca n be validly absolved unless he be determined, with the aid of God’s grace, to avoid a free proximate occasion of mortal sin. For example, a man knows that, by going into a certain place, he is morally certain to fall into mortal sin. That place is now for him a proximate occasion of sin. If, moreover, he has no serious reason for going there-e.g., to get his work done-the occasion is also free. Without the firm determination to avoid that place is future, he cannot be validly absolved. unites Himself most intimately with your weakness. You say the doctor’s patient was foolish to throw away an infallible remedy? Are you less foolish if you refuse to eat this divine Food which would impart to you a strength so great that you would almost begin to wonder if you were the same person? Holy Communion would transform you. What now appears to you so attractive would then be seen in its true colours. You would marvel at the new-found strength by which you are now able to turn away from what is wrong.

It is not you merely who are doing this. You could never have done it of yourself. But your soul is developing strength because it is receiving the food it requires. Keep renewing your purpose of amendment in Confession. Keep building up the strength of your soul by frequent, even daily, Holy Communion, if possible, and your cure is certain. With that programme, give your will to Mary and leave it in her safe keeping. That plan of campaign will succeed, no matter how Sow you have fallen. You will have to fight.

I SAID “NO”

It is good to use natural helps, too. You want to stiffen that will of yours. Make yourself do without something, at least occasionally. Go without a cigarette sometimes when you want one. Pass by that hoarding once in a while without reading or looking at the advertisements. You are very anxious to see that picture about which your friends are all talking? Turn in and spend half an hour with that sick person instead. Jump promptly out of bed the moment your alarm rings. Every act of selfcontrol, every deliberate saying “no,” even in small things, is training your will to say “no” in the matter that is troubling you. It is surprising when you have deliberately said “no” in matters that are quite harmless, how much easier it becomes to say “no” when there is question of something sinful. The schoolmen put it aptly enough. Habit, they tell us, is succession of act.

Try to have a hobby-photography, carpentry, gardening, games. Best of all, do something in the field of what has been named by our late Holy Father, “Catholic Action.” Get interested in the St. Vincent de Paul Society and its work; help the Foreign Missions; work up Our Lady’s Sodality; do something for the poor; visit the hospitals; spread good literature; become a Legionary of Mary. In a word, shake yourself free of depression and try to do something for others. Your experiences will give you a healthy occupation; they will make you unselfish, thoughtful for others and their many trials and difficulties. When that begins to happen, your own trouble will die a natural death, or at any rate it will cease to be a cause of misery or uneasiness.

Finally, do not look forward too much. Do not say: I have to do this forever, until the end of my life. Say, rather: I am going to Holy Communion to-morrow; therefore, I am keeping right for to-day in preparation. Little by little the days run into weeks and the weeks into months. Each victory sees you stronger. Once again, habit is succession of act.

REPARATION!

Throughout this paper we have kept in view men and women, boys and girls, who have the desire to be pure, even though they may be undergoing a bombardment of temptation, or even though at the moment they may be down in the fight for purity. For all that, their good-will, their desire to live pure lives, has been taken for granted. But everyone knows that there are many who have no such desire, many who, like Herod, have grown so habituated to the gutter that it seems “to have become part of their natural environment. In these there is no better self. In the appalling words of Scripture God “has given them over to the desires of their heart.” “Abandoned to a reprobate sense,” they prowl around the world like ravening wolves seeking prey. Such a degradation for a son or a daughter of God! “Man when he was in honour did not understand; he has compared himself to the brute beasts and is become like to them.”

When you recall these terrifying truths, and many more of the same kind that need not be put on paper, you can understand the plea wrung from the Sacred Heart. He appeared to St. Margaret Mary, a Visitation nun of Paray-le-Monial, and, pointing to that Heart, He showed her the flames of divine love issuing forth from It on every side. “Behold this Heart, on fire with love for men.” Now, if passion has got hold of you, you will not grasp the meaning of these words. You will probably not pay much attention to them, or, if you give them any thought at all, it will be only to dismiss them with a shrug of the shoulder as a sort of metaphor. But that is where you are wrong. You have allowed sin and selfishness to form a hard crust round about that heart of yours, and the message from the Sacred Heart cannot break through.

But if a ray of that divine fire begins to force an opening in the crust, if purity begins to live again in your heart, it will gradually dawn upon your mind that this marvellous message is no fairy tale, but sober history. The Sacred Heart is, literally, on fire with love for men. And, close on that first fact comes the second-the complaint He made. “In spite of all this, the vast bulk of men do not understand. They repay My love with coldness and indifference, with sacrilege and with ingratitude.” Therefore, does Christ appeal to His servant to make reparation.

THEY HAVE DESPISED ME

It is three hundred years since that complaint and that appeal were spoken by Our Divine Lord, but their echo rings out clear in our day. Christ loves and is not loved, and you, who have read these pages, you are called upon to make reparation. There you have the most compelling motive of all for the practice of holy purity. Thousands of young boys and girls every year kneel before the altar and take upon themselves the solemn obligations of a vow of chastity. Why? Because marriage is wrong? There is nothing wrong with marriage. It is God’s divine institution, a sacrament which brings grace into your soul.

Why, then, renounce it? To stifle love? Not at all, but to pour out that love, undivided, on the love of the Sacred Heart; to make reparation to that Sacred Heart for the men and women who use God’s gift of love against Him, to redeem and save those who use the flesh only to abuse it. It is possible that He will confer on you, too, the supreme compliment of inviting you to give your heart, thus whole and entire, to Him in the Religious State. But if He does not ask that from you, it is certain that His appeal for reparation must meet, in you, with at least some response. “Hear, O ye heavens, and give ear, O earth, for theLord God hath spoken. “I have brought up children and have exalted them, but they have despised Me.”“

Perhaps you, too, have “despised” Him and His law. Are you, therefore, to be despondent? Remember the story of the Prodigal Son? He lived riotously, far away from his father’s house. He came to the brink of ruin, and ultimately found himself sitting in the pigsty feeding swine. He might very easily have decided that his case, too, was hopeless. What was the use of trying to patch up his broken life? His misfortunes had not that effect, however. “How many hired servants in my father’s house abound in bread, and here I, the son, am famishing with hunger? I will arise and go back to my Father!” There is the correct conclusion, and the poor beggar of the pig-sty is received with love by a father whose heart has never ceased to long for his return.

Nihil Obstat

F. MOYNIHAN Censor Deputatus

Imprimatur

@ D. MANNIX

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis

********

Can We Be Saints?

BY FRANK DUFF

INDEX

WHAT IS A SAINT?

IN the heart of every right-thinking Catholic God has implanted the desire to become a Saint. Yet few make a serious attempt to realise the ambition. The cause for this is to a large extent discouragement, due to the misunderstanding of what a Saint really is.

What is a Saint? The answer usually returned to this question is: One who does extraordinary penances and works miracles. Now, this is an incorrect description, for neither miracles nor great penances are essential. The man who works a miracle does not raise himself in God’s eyes by it; and, while penance in some shape is necessary, still the teaching of the Saints on this difficult question is encouraging.

What they direct is not bodily penances of a terrifying kind, but rather the strict avoidance of delicacies, softness, comfort. We are told to beware of injuring our health, and to eat enough plain food to enable us to work and pray without hindrance. There is ample opportunity for the severest mortification in the restraint of eyes and tongue, and in a warfare against the seven Deadly Sins.

Thus, there is another definition of what a Saint is. It is this: One who, with the object of pleasing God, does his ordinary duties extraordinarily well. Such a life may be lived out without a single wonder in it, arouse little notice, be soon forgotten, and yet be the life of one of God’s dearest friends.

It is obviously an encouragement to look on Sanctity in this way. When we see that those things which so terrified us in the lives of the Saints, because we felt we could not do them ourselves, are not the important part of their sanctity at all, we should feel, therefore, heartened to begin today and make a serious effort for great holiness. Believe this: it is only the first few wrenches given to the will that really hurt

Perhaps the following words of Cardinal Newman will tempt us to take a step forward on the road:—“If you ask me what you are to do in order to be perfect, I say, first, do not lie in bed beyond the time of rising; give your first thoughts to God; make a good visit to the Blessed Sacrament; say the Angelus devoutly; eat and drink to God’s glory; say the Rosary well, be recollected; keep out bad thoughts; make your evening meditation well; examine yourself daily; go to bed in good time, and you are already perfect.”

WHO ARE CALLED TO BE SAINTS?

Every person that is born is called to be a Saint. Take it as most certain that you-no matter how unfitted your life may seem for holiness-are being given grace sufficient, if corresponded to, to bring you to Sanctity. We have already seen that nothing beyond our strength is expected; neither is Sanctity the exclusive property of any grade or manner of life. Among the Saints canonised by “the Church are kings and beggars, and representatives of every trade, slaves, hermits, city people, mothers of families, invalids, soldiers, and persons of every race and colour.

As a canonised Saint is a pattern provided by God, it is evident that an invitation to become Saints is extended to men and women of every type. It is equally a fact that to those who seriously try to respond to His invitation, He gives help sufficient to carry them to the goal.

THE TWO SUCCESSES

Watch how the thought of fame or gold moves men. What sufferings they will endure for a mere chance of earthly gain! And in the end, though disappointed themselves, they will fill the minds of their children with the same longings for worldly success, so that each generation sees the same weary beat of the pendulum-ambitious youth to soured age. Is it really worth the trouble? So many are handicapped by lack of health or knowledge or brains that it never is a fair fight. Except for a few, striving is pure waste of time.

How differently God deals with anyone striving after holiness! Here all is certain. Every effort gets its reward. Everything is made to favour us; for alike out of health and sickness, poverty and wealth-what looks good and what looks evil-can the man of goodwill extract spiritual gain. Every reasonable request granted; obstacles removed for the asking; no trial beyond our strength permitted. In the ears of the world this would sound like a fairy tale, but it is, in sober truth, God’s way of dealing with the earnest seeker after heavenly riches.

Surely, to announce calmly, as so many good people do, that they have no ambition to be Saints is very ungenerous treatment of One so kind. As He has so plainly set His Heart upon our doing great things, let us resolve to please Him and return generosity for generosity.

I AM A BUNDLE OF WEAKNESSES

“I am appalled at the thought of a life of constant effort to crush my nature into a new form. I have no strength of will, and such a life is beyond my powers.”

With such reasonings, we harden ourselves against the call which rings so often in our ears. We forget that the same holy lips which say, “Come, follow Me,” say also to all, “My yoke is sweet and My burden light.” What, then, is wrong with us that we fear the yoke of Christ?

It is this . . . our point of view. Unimportant ideas occupy the strongholds of our minds and shape our thoughts; while He, the Owner of Eternity, is left only as one of the hundred interests of our lives, so that it is not surprising that the zeal, the courage, the ardour, that do big things, are spent on gains or pleasures which give a visible and rapid return. In a word, we undervalue holiness.

Once alter this-and little is required to do it-once accept the fact that holiness is the most important thing in the world for us, and it will become the most natural thing in the world for us to strive after it. There lies the whole secret of effort. Make the goal attractive and reasonable, and we pursue it in spite of hardships, and almost in spite of ourselves. The human mind works in that way.

A CHANGED OUTLOOK

- The secret of bringing this about is contained in a few words: we must face facts. Now and then we must give the mind a chance to raise itself above the sea in which it is immersed, of things that do not matter, and face in all coldness the grim truths which group themselves around the central facts of Death and Eternity. Think of the immortality of the Soul; the insanity of preferring temporal to eternal good; the shortness of our stay on earth; the nearness of that moment which will decide all; and the pricelessness of each minute of time, which, short as it is, yet shapes our undying life beyond the grave.

To occupy oneself deliberately with these solemn considerations and still remain indifferent is impossible. Dwelt upon so that they become familiar, these thoughts bring a new force into our lives. There is operated in us a wonderful change. As if the needle of the compass were to turn from the north and point due south, worldliness will now repel, and reason drive us on to God. Add a little love and the stock-in-trade for a Saint is there.

But we have already been deliberating too long. Whilst we have been in doubt, “the precious days have slipped away, and we find ourselves in the rapids above the great waters of the grave, and we hear the falling of the waters into the immeasurable abyss, and we feel the suction of eternity.”

Eternity! What a thought!

In God’s name, so, let us begin, while yet we have the time, and while the fire is still in us to love Him ardently.

A NEW AMBITION

Fear the postponed beginnings. A chill grows up, and our great destiny is forgotten.

Oh my God! Grant that I have not, in my indecision, let that day come upon myself. I confess that Your work has never been anything to me but occupation for an idle moment. My heart has been set upon the things that pass. But henceforth I will give myself entirely to You. Give me the time, and faithfully do I promise now to serve You. Give me back the years that the worm and the locust have devoured that I may one day restore them to You full of achievement.

And I do not ask for the big things -the life of the missionary or the monk, or those others I see around me so full of accomplishment. I do not ask for any of these, but simply set my face to follow out unswervingly, untiringly, the common life which day by day stretches out before me, satisfied if in it 1 love You and try to make You loved. Nature rebels against this life, with its never-ending round of trivial tasks and full of the temptation to take relief in amusement or change. It seems so hard to be great in the small things, to be heroic in the doing of the commonplace; but still this life is Your will for me. There must be a great destiny in it. And so I am content.

And then, to crown the rest, dear Jesus, I beg of You to give me this . . . fidelity to the end . . . to be at my post when the final call comes, and to take my last weary breath in Your embrace. A valiant life . . . and faithful to the end. A short wish, dearest Jesus, but it covers all.

BEING REALLY IN EARNEST

Goodwill is the very foundation of our progress. By goodwill is meant, not an empty wish to reach the goal, but a readiness to toil along the road that leads to it. Now, the symbol of our religion is a Cross. Our Lord has told us that we must carry it daily if we desire to be perfect. What excuse, therefore, can there be for being upset when trials come upon us? He that is discouraged by them evidently began without thought. But he who gives up altogether plainly never was in earnest. Of such Our Lord Himself said: “These have no roots.”

PERSEVERANCE

There is usually a sweetness in beginnings. God gives this aid freely, then, in order to encourage, just as a helping hand is given to children learning to walk. It is not for our good that we should always be carried, so after a while this sweetness is lessened. Then comes the critical time when our resolution is being tested. Guardian angels must weep to see so many who gave hopes of high sanctity stop short in their course.

Now, to give up because our fervour is gone is to admit that we never had in view God’s pleasure, but our own. Our pleasure in the work having gone, we labour no more. It apparently matters little to us that God’s pleasure in the work is still the same-greater, perhaps, for the offering made from a sick heart and tired brain is always the most precious.

Perseverance is the last grace that will be given to us, and the greatest. It is the test of our goodwill. Excitement, novelty, or any one of a dozen other merely human things may start something, but they will not keep it going. What is wrong with all those who begin so splendidly and stop so soon? Call for volunteers for any good work. There are many full of enthusiasm, but hardly one who remains steadfast, hardly one who keeps his hands to the plough to the end. . . . And the good intentions of a Retreat. . . . .

How short-lived they are!

Is there any definite reason why all these people lack the quality of perseverance? Here is the answer in the words of the celebrated Pere de Ravignan:

“I do here affirm that all deceptions, all spiritual deficiencies, all miseries, all faults, and even the most serious wanderings out of the right path, all proceed from this single source-a want of constancy in prayer.”

THE SECRET OF PERSEVERANCE IS PRAYER

From reading the lives of the Saints, one would conclude that they fall roughly into two classes: those who gave themselves to contemplation, and those who spent their lives in active works. In reality they were all alike. All were souls whose whole lives were prayer. Prayer was their business. Their good deeds were only valuable because they sprang from prayer; they bore the same relation to prayer that the trunk of a tree bears to the roots; good deeds are a visible part of prayer; and good deeds cannot live without prayer.

The present is a period when successful appeal is being made to Catholics to show, by works of charity, the Faith that is in them. That the most ordinary act may become holy when inspired by a holy intention is well understood, and the words of Christ Himself, assuring us: “So long as ye did it unto one of these My least brethren, ye did it unto Me,” draw us powerfully on to the service of our neighbour.

The possibilities of holiness here are immense. But it is not sufficiently recognised that a proper balance of regular prayer and good works is essential to perseverance in the latter. There is a tendency to consider good works as prayerful enough in themselves. Their variety makes them easy, while prayer is difficult. Besides, we like to see results, and usually we do not see the results of prayer. So we reduce our prayer to little or nothing, satisfying ourselves with the reflection that we are doing plenty of practical work for our neighbour.

Readers of Canon Sheehan will remember how a similar course of reasoning ended in the case of Luke Delmege—in complete loss of spirituality and in disaster.

Of course, this is an extreme case. But we all know of many with noble qualities, holy intentions, and high promise who just reach a certain point and no further. In a way, these makings of Saints who give up advancing are most to be pitied. It is far easier to pick a sinner out of the mire than to induce such people to get out of the rut of mere goodness, which God never intended for them.

Let us sound once more the note upon which we began a little while ago. The cause of all this pitiful failure is this: there is not prayer enough.

PRAY! PRAY! PRAY!

This is how St. Teresa stated she would summarise all her teaching.

People do not understand the importance of prayer. They say it is difficult. What wonder, considering that they make no effort to learn. The man who thinks it quite natural to put his son to a six years” apprenticeship to learn a trade would think it absurd to spend six hours reading a book which might teach him how to pray.

Prayer must be brought to occupy a most prominent and definite place in our lives. This does not mean that we have to spend many hours each day on our knees. The duties of our state probably prevent that. But certainly we must aim at more than the saying of prayers twice a day, or even three and four times a day. He prays little who only prays on his knees.

Just as a gong or a tuning-fork could be kept quietly sounding all day by an occasional tap, so will the soul of itself send up incessant prayer if now and then we apply the tap of an aspiration, a thought, an ejaculation. Never let the mind be too long away from God. The great disinclination to pray which most of us feel when the time set apart for prayer comes is plain proof that we are not, as it were, living with Him.

THE DAY IN DETAIL

THE FOUNDATION-STONE

Foremost in the consideration of our day -and on an eminence apart, like the Cross itself-must stand the daily Mass and daily reception of the Holy Eucharist. These are so obviously the greatest means of grace that they need not be urged at length. The person who is able easily to go to morning Mass, and does not do so, only deceives himself if he thinks he is aiming at great holiness.

Mass and Communion mean a day perfectly begun; and that is half the battle. But out of this great act come two smaller obligations: (a) to your neighbour. There are many whom lack of thought alone keeps from daily Mass. Lend a book; say a word to awaken them; (b) to yourself. Read to increase knowledge and reverence. You might begin with St. Leonard’s little book, “The Hidden Treasure.”

THE MORNING OFFERING

The day should have opened with the morning offering of all our thoughts, words, and actions to Jesus through Mary. This offering must be the guiding idea of the whole day. We do not need to repeat the words many times, but the thought of it must lie in the heart, and govern our daily life in such a way that we feel ourselves to be working for God and not for the world.

OUR DAILY WORK

First, let no one pride himself on having what he considers a dignified occupation. In despising menial or manual labour, he is parting company with Christianity and allying himself to paganism, which in all ages has counted such work the greatest of evils.

The ancient Jews, on the contrary, esteemed it a disgrace that any man should be without a trade. Generally, Our Lord’s followers were from the humblest type of manual labourers, and the whole teaching of traditional Christianity has been to exalt manual work, and to teach that to be poor, to have to toil hard, to be without what the world regards as enviable, is, in reality, a long start on the way to heaven.

“To work is to pray,” was the old saying of the monks, who never considered themselves any the further from God when working than when on their knees. In some monasteries they sang hymns while at work; in others, meditation was ordered. We read of St. Bernard stopping suddenly short in the writing of one of his most wonderful sermons because the time had arrived for him to go to dig in the fields. Others would have some pious book open before them to suggest holy thoughts, while their hands were engaged upon their allotted task; and, more wonderful still, others never began their painting or tasks of delicate workmanship without purifying their souls by Sacramental Confession. It was this spirit of prayer and work combined which produced those exquisite works of art, which present generations marvel at but cannot equal. God, in His approval of work done in such a spirit, breathed beauty into it. Let us, if we desire to produce similar work, approach it in a similar way.

THE IMPORTANCE OF A RIGHT IDEA OF WORK

As half our waking day is spent in toil, the need for rightly understanding the dignity and sanctity of labour is evident. It comes to this-that our work, whatever it may be, as seamstress, labourer, teacher, doctor, or farmer, was given to us by God as a means of sanctification and as a penance for our sins. Thus it is the foundation of our spiritual life. He who neglects his work and yet thinks, because he says many prayers, that he is leading a holy life, deludes himself.

A RIGHT IDEA OF DUTY

We are to do what it is our duty to do-and at the right time. Duty is not something which is to be thrown off with our working clothes, as so many people imagine. It is as strictly our duty to keep an appointment or a secret as it is to do our work. A duty goes before even devotion. If it is your duty to wash the dishes, do not run off to Benediction instead.

There are many duties in the day which seem less important than others, and for this reason we think very little of setting them aside to suit the convenience of the moment. Such conduct is wrong, and it does not build up a strong character. The real value of our duty lies in the exact performance of all our obligations. The greater ones take care of themselves-their importance makes them easy to do. So look particularly to the small things.

Consider your whole day as a picture where every line has its proper place and where the smallest may be the mast essential. Do everything that you are supposed to do, and do it down to the tiniest detail-not because you gain by it; do-it even when you lose by it; not because somebody is supervising you, but simply because you are supposed to do it.

There is a proverb, “Death is light as a feather, Duty as heavy as lead,” and a life lived in devotion to duty is going to be a hard life. But it is going to be the life of a man.

Here is a lesson from the Far East.

A Japanese craftsman was observed to be spending days in perfecting the inside of an article he was making. He was asked, “Why waste all this time? Nobody will ever see your work.” He replied, “Do I not see it myself?”

To his answer may not we as Christians add, “And God sees it too”?

PRAYING AT OUR WORK

We see that work and duty are holy things when the idea of God is in them. But, by themselves, they are not holy enough for those who are trying to be Saints. We must bring God closer to our work than by the mere offering of it in the morning. We must keep Him at our side by frequent thought of Him.

It is told of a Spanish nun who had charge of the refectory that, in order never to be distracted, she imagined those she served to be Our Blessed Lord, and His Mother, and the Apostles. In this way her work became a great means of prayer to her, and the hours spent in it were amongst the most devotional in the whole day.

While this may be above the reach of our poor minds, distracted by a thousand things, we may at least confidently seek after a quiet sense of God’s Presence. This does not mean that we have actually to feel Him near us. If we have, by the regular practice of prayer and frequent thought of Him, so drilled the mind that there is a tendency to swing back to Him when left free, we are doing very well. For this means that, however distracting our occupations are, the soul is giving Him a quiet attention all the time. We shall have reached the stage of praying always.

THE MECHANISM OF FREQUENT PRAYER

In endeavouring to build up a spirit of prayer such as this, there is little use in relying on vague resolutions-made in moments of fervour-to pray frequently. Vague resolutions have no influence over people so strongly drawn away from prayer, as we unfortunately are. We must set up certain of the events of each day as regular calls to a word or thought of prayer.

Some of these reminders we already have: the Angelus, grace at meals, the passing of a church, and so forth. This number can be largely increased, so that quite a number of the items of our daily life will in the end cause an easy and natural lifting of the mind to God.

A passing funeral, the meeting of a friend, the hearing of a death, the striking of a clock, the ringing of a bell, the writing of a date, the sharpening of a pencil, the threading of a needle-one could go on for ever with suggestions for such a list. But the occupation of each one will determine what is best. Do not mind how foolish your expedients seem. They may have all the more love in them. In any case, nothing is foolish that leads to God.

It is better that the acts be not too frequent. They might tire out one’s good intentions or interfere with attention to work. But, above all, they must, for the beginner, be definite. That is, the resolution must take this shape: “Whenever I look at my watch (or whatever else it may be), I will say such and such an ejaculation.” Do not stop because this practice may at first seem mechanical and undevotional and tiring. Habit will soon come to your aid and make it less difficult. But determination will always be needed, as the tempter will make many an effort to hinder so excellent a practice.

While progress is being made in acquiring the spirit of prayer, those things which are a hindrance must go. Not until there is quiet within us can an attempt be made to build up a real spiritual life.

HINDRANCES AND PITFALLS ON THE WAY

SIN

Sin in its various forms is, of course, the great barrier. Such serious things as dishonesty, wronging one’s employer or those who work for one, gambling, intemperance, cursing, might be gone into at length. But surely this is unnecessary. We are considering a person who is making a serious effort for sanctity, who is fully aware of the gravity of such failings, and who has probably already cut them out of his life. Then there is the host of commoner faults: self-love, lying, backbiting, vanity, envy, and so forth, in direct attacks on which a lifetime could be spent with poor result. A surer success will quietly come of itself if prayerfulness and love develop. These will induce a frame of mind to which anything wrong will be distasteful. Such failings become no longer temptations-and simply drop out of one’s life.

All the foregoing are plainly labelled “sin.” When we are guilty of any of them we know that it is an occasion for repentance and amendment. But there are other enemies to sanctity that are more hidden, and which constantly deceive even well-intentioned people by assuming an innocent and commendable appearance. Amongst these may be mentioned discontent, human respect, an uncontrolled tongue, ill temper, discouragement, conceit. The seriousness of these is that they are harboured by good people when sin has been driven out, in ignorance that they do sin’s work.

DISCONTENT

This is the great fault of the good. “There is no harm in being dissatisfied,” they will say. Or they will call it ambition, and make a virtue of the turmoil which it makes in their minds. There would be some advantage in discontent if it spurred us on to aim at better things. But, unhappily, discontent tends only to make us despise what we have. So warped are we by it that we envy today in someone else what yesterday we scorned in ourselves.

Now, this spirit of discontent particularly concerns us when it sets up the delusion that our own particular mode of life and surroundings are unsuited to sanctity. Very often we entertain the thought as a holy one. We feel sure we could be Saints if God had made us priests or nuns, or indeed anything else but what we happen to be.

Than such a delusion, no greater obstacle to progress can exist. The conditions of each man’s life, as it is, a re the raw materials out of which he has to fashion his future. Disbelief in the possibilities of doing any good with what he has is unlikely to lead to effort. A man is just as likely to start digging in his back garden for diamonds as to seek for the jewels of sanctity where he does not believe they exist.

It may be that our present manner of life really is unfavourable to higher things. If this is so, God will in good time open up another door to us, that is, provided we are doing our duty in making the best of what we now have.

Most probably, however, far from being unfavourable, our present life is just the only one which will bring us to sanctity. God, who sees all things, did not choose it over all others for us without ample reason. By discontent we are setting ourselves up as judges over His actions. Now, let us pay Him the compliment of thinking deeply over this, and then bind ourselves with a stern resolution to put away every such disturbing thought. Its place will be filled by a grace. A calm will steadily grow up within us. We will find ourselves less and less put out by the worries of everyday life. We are getting on.

WHEN DISCONTENT IS BANISHED

Those who have always been in the close friendship of God cannot fully value the greatness of this treasure-peace of mind-which they have always possessed. But to those who have known the opposite, this feeling of calm, as it develops, carries a plain message of the presence of the Holy Ghost in the soul. One is on the way to that tranquillity which was a noted feature in the lives of the Saints. For instance, it is written of St. Vincent Ferrer:

“Whether in the streets or the choir, or his own cell, or preaching, or on a journey, or whatever he did, he was always tranquil because he had made an oratory in his heart, and there conversed uninterruptedly with God without any outward thing disturbing him.”

ANOTHER BIG OBSTACLE -HUMAN RESPECT

The danger of Human Respect is not sufficiently recognised. In almost every Catholic it is a weak spot. In the case of some, it is a defect so grave as to put real holiness out of the question. Human Respect may be defined as the putting of the opinion of others in the place of our conscience. It sets up ridicule and unpopularity as the things most to be avoided, even at the risk of offending against truth and principle. Beginning in small things, if constantly yielded to, Human Respect brings about a general lowering of principle. A state of mind is reached which is as different from sanctity as chalk is from cheese.

You have always been in the habit of blessing yourself when at your meals. When not at home, through a form of shame, you do not do this. This is Human Respect.

You always touch your hat as you pass a church-except when with Protestants. You would not have a religious picture in your drawing-room. You are shy about making the Stations of the Cross. You would be mortified if your rosary beads fell from your pocket in Protestant company or in the tram. All these are signs of the disease we are discussing.

In a word, you are so taken up with making your conduct acceptable to others that you have no room for the thought that God might have been pleased by these little open professions of faith. You have treated Him as the rich are supposed to treat their poor relations-acknowledging them in private, ignoring them in public.

In the life of St. Philip Neri, we read how that Saint was in the habit of imposing very humiliating penances upon his disciples in his anxiety to destroy in them any trace of this mean spirit. Such practices would nowadays be termed extreme. Here is a suggestion which is not extreme. It will help anyone resolved upon the destruction of this failing. . . . . . Wear openly something Catholic, some little devotional badge or emblem that will mark you as a Catholic who is not ashamed to be known as one. The feeling of unwillingness to do this, which will come to many, is the best test of its value; it is the spirit you seek to kill that is protesting in you.

Such objections as, “I don’t believe in badge-wearing,” and “I don’t believe in making a parade of my religion.” are usually not sincere. Those who speak in this way seldom seem to have any objection to wearing political or trade badges. Be honest with yourself. The trouble is that you are not really proud of being a Catholic. It is human nature to publish the fact if you are.

The priest and the nun advertise themselves to the world for what they are. Let the laity also, in the little ways that are open to them, confess Christ before men that He may one day confess them before His Father in heaven. But in this, let there be a wholesome moderation. Do nothing which will earn for yourself the name of mere eccentricity, for this would destroy much of your influence. To cover yourself with religious emblems or to make an unnecessary show of devotion in a church is to err in this way.

DISCOURAGEMENT AND PRIDE

The spiritual value of any work you do is not to be judged by the little or much you see result from it, but by the purity of intention and the effort which you have put into it. The powerful sermon or book that converts many might bring less merit to its author than the smallest act of self-sacrifice. Thus it is as foolish to be discouraged by lack of visible results as it is to be puffed up by apparent success. Many average people have seen wonderful things come of their labours, while Saints often have been faced with constant failure.

Whatever you take up, act well your part. Let this be your only concern. Be not anxious for results, which may bring conceit, one touch of which can destroy the beauty of any work in God’s sight.

Should some success cause stings of self-conceit, summon common sense to your side to tell you how little self-denial there is in your life; how little you do; and how much more you could easily do if you liked. And then contrast yourself with those multitudes of good people over the world who have given up everything for the Master’s sake, And yet count themselves as idlers in His sight.

Let your frequent prayer be; “Jesus, meek and humble of heart, make my heart like unto Thy Heart,” If you become perfectly humble, God will certainly use you for some great work.

Oh, Jesus, I desire to become a Saint-not that I may be great, but that You may be greatly loved.

WEAPONS AND AIDS

DEVOTION TO MARY

“Show me how you say your Hail Marys,” said a great Saint, “and I will tell you how you love God.” The finger -tips of other Saints-hardened by the use of their beads-show this same idea in practice.

You must have a tremendous love for Mary. Read and pray, and pray again, until you get that love. Implore Our Lord to give you just the love for her that He would wish you to have. A great love for her is a great sign of sanctity.

Do not treat her only as the Queen of all Saints. She is much more than that. She is the most beloved Daughter of the Father, the Mother of the Son, and the Spouse of the Holy Ghost. When you pray to any One of these Three Divine Persons, let her be near to recommend your prayer.

And she is also our Mother. Is this idea real to us? The love of our own dear earthly mothers is a wonderful thing. What seas of fire and water would they not go through for us! Yet their love is faint and weak compared with hers.

There is a beautiful traditional custom which unhappily seems less common than it was-the consecration of babies by their parents to this Blessed Mother. The terrible power of the evil one over the bodies of people possessed by him should be the best recommendation of this devotion. More than he can do for evil a million-fold, she can do for good.

Let us consecrate to her not only our children, but ourselves in the most solemn manner, remembering that what belongs to Mary is all for Jesus.

ST. JOSEPH

Our Lord and His Blessed Mother looked to St Joseph for their daily bread. What wonder, then, that the Church tells us: “Go to Joseph”!

He was very dear to the Saints. In particular, that great master of prayer, St. Teresa, has glowing things to say of the fruits of devotion to him.

There seems to be no occupation or condition of life which cannot claim some point of likeness to him from which to draw encouragement. Above all, as the patron of those who work hard and are hard used, we address ourselves to him, knowing that to be like him in this way brings at once the arms of the Divine Babe around us.

We might make a frequent practice of saying some little prayer to him, such as “St. Joseph, called Father by Jesus, pray for us.”

This was his greatest dignity.

THE NECESSITY OF SPIRITUAL READING

Read good literature: get others to read good literature, and, later, all of us will do good deeds.

We must form a taste for religious literature. It must take a definite place in each day. From it we will acquire an interest in our religion: extend our knowledge of the doctrines of the Church; learn of its history, glories, institutions, opponents, and be able to answer the innumerable questions and objections which constantly proceed from friend and enemy.

There is a dearth of good religious libraries. Probably we shall have to buy the books we wish most to read. But let there be a little sacrifice, an occasional book purchased and read thoroughly, and more than once. If an author has put deep thought into his work, this will not be appreciated in one reading.

After that, let its mission be not to gather dust, but souls. Send it on, a busy Apostolic, round amongst those friends who can be trusted to return a borrowed book.

Some good religious periodical should enter our home regularly-one which will keep us in touch with the wide-world doings of our Universal Church.

WE MUST READ THE LIVES OF THE SAINTS

We were taught to read by means of a headline. Unconsciously, we shape our lives by some headline, too. God’s purpose in bringing about the canonisation of the Saints was to provide a headline which would draw us on to goodness and heroism.

Saints are the doctrines and practices of holiness made visible. If we frequent their company, we will soon imitate their qualities.

THE QUESTION OF THE NEWSPAPER

We are inclined to think it necessary to read the daily paper in order to keep in touch with what is going on in the world. Let us beware lest they place us in the world’s grip.

The modern newspaper is so well written, so attractive to the eye, that it tends to become an absorbing taste. It is a tendency of the day to wallow in the daily papers.

Endless discussion, a prejudiced outlook, a little scrappy knowledge, a distaste for serious or good literature, loss of power of concentration, faulty memory-such are the products of those wasted hours during which God’s kingdom could have been so powerfully advanced.

MEDITATION, REALISATION, ACTION

Reading is a direct preparation for prayer and intimacy with God. To meditate on religious matters, one must have read, otherwise there is nothing to meditate on. The lamp has no oil. But read slowly, and think upon what has been read. Books rapidly run through and unreflected upon are as valueless as food eaten but not digested.

We must, therefore, accuse ourselves of waste of time if we read without the desire to profit by our reading. Yet such is our ordinary habit. We do not meditate, hence we do not realise. We leave in the unexplored depths of our souls the divine truths which should be governing our intellects and driving us on to great things.

There is wonderful difference between merely believing and realising. Here are some truths we all believe in:

1. Death is inevitable-then judgment.

2. Grace is the greatest possession in the world.

3. Sin-even venial-is infinitely the greatest misfortune in the world.

Now, to what extent do we realise these truths and act upon them?

And again. We know that the Infinite God became Man for our sake;—not a king-He wanted love, not fear-but the shivering babe of poor people; a rough-handed working man; a homeless wanderer-one might almost say an outcast. . . . . and then He was taken and tortured and put on a cross to die, an object of contempt: all, that He might win our love, or even our pity, which is akin to love.

Oh! the honour of it! Saints have cried out in anguish to think that love so great should be so unwanted by the world. For so it is! The crucifix is only a piece of wood, or metal to us. We have tears for any friend but Him! Loyalty for every cause but His!. . . . . . and why?

Because we neglect the means which common sense directs us to use. Prayer and meditation would make Him real and vivid to us; but, in our indifference, we leave Him a shadow-and who can love a shadow? Thus it is we miss the greatest force in the world-that personal love for Jesus, which looks for no reward, laughs at death, makes sacrifice delightful, and sanctity easy.

MEDITATION NOT SO VERY DIFFICULT

There are very many who really are unable to meditate in a regular manner. These should not be discouraged and avoid meditation altogether. It is very advisable, and some such simple method as the following can be used:

Endeavouring to bring the Master vividly before our minds, we must attentively consider that Divine Model. His slender form and serene, lovely face, His words, His actions-take them one by one, and, as best we can, reflect upon them with affection. What an incomparable beauty beams forth in all! Such mildness, wisdom, purity, patience, tenderness; and a love which is true to us in all our waywardness and disloyalty. Look and admire, and seek to draw a breath of their loveliness into ourselves.

We can take consolation from this . . . we do not seek fruitlessly. The treasury of perfections in Him is not like the treasures of the world, behind bars or in museums-to be admired but not possessed. Each perfection shining in Jesus is there solely to be communicated to us. With all His Heart, He desires to give them to us. So look on them and long to have them, and they will become yours.

Of this simple character may be our meditation. No regular system is necessary, though it helps. There need be no effort, no resolutions even-only a wish to love Him and to be like Him. Yet our advance will be by leaps and bounds. And why is this? It is because, as theologians put it, Our Lord and His qualities are not only holy, but sanctifying-that is, the mere looking upon them with good intentions will imprint them on our hearts and make them part of us.

And let our gaze be as Mary’s must have been. Ask her help in this contemplation. It was her employment from the night she first looked upon her newborn Babe’s face.

I AM NOT ABLE TO MEDITATE AT ALL

Those to whom even a simple form of meditation is difficult will find it very profitable to take some spiritual book before the Blessed Sacrament, and then very slowly to read it-more in the manner of prayer than of ordinary reading.

Pause frequently-after all, every second word represents an idea-and frequently speak to the Eucharistic Presence. The longer one spends on each sentence, the better. Ability to dwell on the reading for a time means that a very satisfactory form of meditation is being made.

OUR WORKS FOR OUR NEIGHBOUR

IS THE WORLD OUR VOCATION?

The fact that God in His providence has left us in the world, instead of giving us a religious vocation, indicates that He wishes the world to be our vocation-that is, the persons and everyday things around us are to be the means of sanctity to us. It may be taken that the practical service of our neighbour is essential for our all-round development. We should bear in mind that serving our neighbour out of love of God means that what we do to him, we do to God.

THE INFLUENCE WE CAN EXERT

- The power each one of us has to influence others to good or evil is so great that it is almost without limit. The explanation of this is that when God finds a willing, a humble, a dependable worker, He uses him as a channel for His grace to others. And, horrible to say, there are many who lend themselves in similar manner to be instruments of the devil, and accept the dreadful destiny of aiding him in his work.

A thought on names such as St. Paul, St. Dominic, St. Francis of Assisi, and, on the other hand, Luther or Voltaire, will serve to show what it lies in one man to do-to influence a whole world, century after century.

Man is small, but a man who is in earnest about an idea is not small. He is going to influence others, and nobody knows where that is going to end. Let our dominating idea be the glory of God and the salvation of souls.

TRIALS THAT SHOW PROGRESS

Certain trials may be expected. We shall be sneered at as would-be Saints, milksops, and upbraided with narrowmindedness and intolerance,

The latter charge should be welcome to us. It lifts us out of that numerous class who are considered and consider themselves as broad-minded, when in reality they are only trimmers. Yet the charge possesses just that grain of truth which will make it hurtful to us. For, to have definite rules of principle and conduct does mean that we shall appear narrow to those who are not similarly hampered. It is part of the penalty of being right.

SOME RESPONSIBILITIES OF HOLINESS

To become associated in people’s mind with religion, as you undoubtedly will if you work for it, involves a respon- sibility. It may be unreasonable of them, but, nevertheless, people will judge religion in general from you. If you play a manly part, you are doing religion a benefit in making it attractive to others. If you make yourself a universal Good Samaritan, whose tongue, like St. Alphonsus Liguori’s, does not know how to say harsh or sarcastic things, and whose deeds are in keeping-you will draw men to you, and, better still, you will make them love God, because in your goodness they will feel they catch a glimpse of Him.

On the other hand; if you are careless at your work, dirty in your dress, mean in your conduct, you have done your religion an injury. It sinks into the gutter with yourself.

It is a big thing that Christ should thus have placed His honour in your keeping. If you are but half a man, it will stimulate you. Furthermore, it means that even the more worldly side of your life, your work in the factory or in your home, In the technical school or university or trade union, your athletics, your music, painting, and so on, can all be made to tell for Him in a very practical way.

ATTACKS AGAINST THE CHURCH

Wherever you go, at your work or in clubs and societies, you will hear difficulties raised and questions asked which, perhaps, strike at the foundations of the Church or of Faith itself; and, in aiding others, do not forget the danger yourself.

Many of these you will be able to meet effectively from your own knowledge. Others may appear so strong as to frighten you. It is useful, then, to reason thus to oneself:

“Whatever the objection is, there is an answer to it. All these difficulties have been raised and answered before. Great men have in all ages endeavoured to pick holes in the doctrines of the Church, and they and their philosophies have gone, while the Church lives on.”

Always remember that the truth of Catholic doctrines does not depend on your ability to prove them true. Ten lifetimes would not be long enough to satisfy oneself on every point. The real proof of them lies in the declaration of the Church, which is the pillar and the ground of truth.

So do not let what someone in the works has said unsettle you. Let his objection-even if it raises a difficulty in your mind-only give you the opportunity for an Act of Faith:

“I don’t understand, dear Lord, but I believe, because the Church teaches it, and the Church is infallible.”

Read the promise of Our Lord: “Upon this Rock I will build My Church . . . and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it.”

Then hear the words of Lord Macaulay, who was no friend of the Church, and see how that promise stands good after nineteen centuries: “When we reflect on the tremendous assaults which the Catholic Church has survived, we find it difficult to conceive in what way she is to perish.”

THE CALL TO GOOD WORKS

In times of retreat, or at your prayers, or by the invitation of a friend, a call to some good work will come. It may be from on high, so do not lightly refuse. You may miss your life’s vocation. St. Augustine speaks solemn words: “Fear Jesus passing by. . . . . . He may not again pass your way.”

HOW WE CAN DO BIG THINGS

With, industry, self-sacrifice, and some knowledge of human nature, we all can produce results: (a) by organising-by making things ready for people who will not make them ready for themselves; (b) by bringing to people who would never get them for themselves things which will benefit them; (c) by appealing individually to people who would never respond to a general appeal.

In other words, we are to be the bridge that covers the chasm between what people will do of themselves and what God wants them to do. For example:

(a) A Pilgrimage is organised. Everything is cut and dried. All that one has to do is to buy the ticket and take one’s place. One thousand persons go. Would any have gone had the Pilgrimage and its details never been arranged?

(b) An appeal is made from a pulpit to support a certain religious publication. Only a handful of people respond. A house-to-house canvass later on, bringing the paper directlyunder people’s notice, produces hundreds of fresh readers.

(c) Everybody in a town knows the needs of a local charity. Yet few subscribe until a door-to-door call is organised. Then all give.

“THOU SHALT LOVE THY NEIGHBOUR AS THYSELF”

The foregoing are only indications of what might be done. Your own tastes, surroundings, conscience, will suggest many powerful means of benefiting your own soul by benefiting the souls of other people. “Love thy neighbour as thyself” is a hard saying; but keep in mind Who said it, and neglect no way of helping others on towards good. Ask St. Vincent de Paul, who is the patron of all such works, to inspire you with knowledge of what will suit you best. Perhaps you might make a beginning by joining the society which bears his name.

Here are some additional suggestions:

(a) You know an excellent sodality. Work hard for it. Be prefect of a guild. Train the sub-prefect to do the work, and then, when you are sure you can be done without, form another guild for yourself. Thus you will increase the sodality membership and keep yourself keen.

(b) You know a night school which sends many of its pupils into the priesthood or the convent. Tell anyone who might be interested. Many will join, and their settling down to work will be just the step which will turn into solid resolutions what otherwise would never he anything but hazy desires.

(c) There is some organisation which you know has produced great spiritual improvement in its members. Bring your friends into it.

(d) There is a religious magazine or paper which you think good. Extend its circulation.

(e) You know someone who has the gift of making those he meets enlist themselves in social works. Introduce people to him.

(f) You have read a book which did you great good. Buy a copy or two and lend it round.

PROMOTING THE WEEK-END RETREAT

Or you might work for the Enclosed Retreats, those drilling-grounds of Christian perfection-as the latest Pontiff has termed them-producing, wherever they exist, hosts of tireless workers in the cause of religion, sanctifying the good, uplifting the degraded.

If you would wish to see far-reaching good accomplished, here is your means to hand, speedy and certain. So where these Retreats are, organise for them, spread abroad the idea of them, and where they are not yet established, aim to have this done.

BREAKING NEW GROUND

Perhaps you could band together others in association to do good, and give the first impulse to what St. Vincent calls the sacred contagion of charity.

Start a little organisation. Gather a few around you for some good work Hold a regular meeting-weekly, if possible- and discuss your little efforts under the auspices of prayer. You have it on His own word that He Who can make your efforts fruitful is there in the midst of you.

Do not soar too high. Do not be over-anxious. Look, above all, to the routine duties and the small details of the meeting. A punctual start, carefully-written minutes, attendance-roll regularly marked up, discussion of business, and business only, affection among the members-these, far more than organising ability or exceptional workers, will ensure a lasting success.

It cannot be over-emphasised that the progress and the permanence of the organisation depend upon the meetings, and that the meetings in turn depend upon the system, the prayerfulness, and the fraternity which are found in them.

Act mindfully of this: face calmly the inevitable ups and downs; and your work may be multiplied exceedingly. All the great movements have had just such simple origins.

SOME HOMELY WAYS OF DOING GREAT WORK

The following are some of the many ways in which a multitude of men and women are spending their free time serving God. Judgment Day alone will show the joy they have given Him and the good they have effected.

The few examples given will make it clear that such work is within the capacity of anyone with perseverance.

(A) THE CATECHISM TEACHER

The saintly Pius X was once asked by a lady who was desirous of doing some really great work for God what he would suggest to her. He surprised her by answering:

“Teach children the Catechism.”

Take a class and put your heart into it. Acquire a large stock of anecdotes by which you can both teach and interest these little ones, who are, as has been beautifully said, wax to receive, marble to retain. Many of them will some day do great things for God. And it will be through you.

(B) THE HOLY CHILDHOOD

Organise and run, with the sanction of your parish priest, a branch of the Holy Childhood. Keep a double object in view-first, the spreading of devotion to the foreign missions, together with the aiding of them financially; and, secondly, to get into touch with the children, who, by the rules, have to pay their little subscription once a month. Let them pay in person. Get to know them well. Tell them stories, and teach them little devotions and the art of making little sacrifices. Tell them to collect used postage stamps; the practice itself is a prayer, and the stamps are valued on the foreign missions.

Such a work can be made the mould of Saints. Not that you will see a wonderful advance suddenly made by the children. That is not their way. But do you keep on without slackening, and the years to come will see a rich harvest of holiness from amongst them.

(C) VISITING THE SICK

The first concern of St. Ignatius of Loyola and his companions on coming to each new town was to visit the sick in the hospitals, knowing that, in doing this, they did it to Christ Himself.

Pick out some hospital, by preference a poor hospital, and ascertain one or more of the very many patients who are without friends or visitors. Be you both friend and visitor to them. Visit them regularly, with perhaps a few booklets or some little gift-an apple or a few sweets. Your smiling face and cheerful words will make your visits longed for. And what wonderful prayers will ring up to high heaven for you from these poor suffering ones of Christ whom you have succoured!

(D) SPREADING GOOD LITERATURE

There are many who act as promoters for a certain valuable little religious periodical, packed full of instruction in simple and interesting form. These promoters have worked up a list of people who are willing to subscribe to the paper, and month by month each home is visited and it is delivered. Father, mother and children will read it and be influenced by it. It is the setting up in the home of a regular lighthouse of grace.

A poor widow had a large family, and had to work hard during the day to keep them. Yet the day began with Mass and Holy Communion. She had almost a hundred subscribers who took this periodical. She delivered it to their widelyscattered homes herself in the evenings when she must have craved for rest. She knew all their families well, and used this intimacy to interest them in those things that were dearest to her own heart-Daily Mass and Communion, the Apostleship of Prayer, the Maynooth Mission to China.

And again. Some years ago in New York a negro washerwoman, who had spent her life in just this same way, received a semi-public funeral and was laid to rest amid the mourning of thousands to whom that poor black face had constantly been a needed reminder of their duty to God.

Loving Jesus and making Him loved. . . . . . There it is in practice! Who can assess the true value of such lives?

(E) THE DULY AUTHORISED OUTDOOR COLLECTOR

His or her little book in hand showing the sanction and approval of the parish priest, the outdoor collector may be seen, usually on a Sunday, toiling up long flights of tenement stairs, diving into the alleys and back lanes where the most charitable of all people-the poor-live. Here he gets, week by week, his pennies and twopences for some church building fund, or other charitable work sanctioned by the parish priest.

Always a holy work, his round may be made a genuine apostolate. He need not take up a preaching tone. A quiet word here and there can do all the work. And he can add to his words weapons more powerful-the scapulars, medals, badges, approved by the Church. In spreading devotion to these, he is setting up channels along which grace will certainly flow.

He finds time for a short chat in each home, and he is keenly interested in each member of the family. How are the children’s Communions? Are Paddy and Molly enrolled in the brown scapular? Here is a miraculous medal for one and a little picture for another. He has an eye to see that the elders are in some sodality. He probably has the father in his own guild.

He does not talk about what is in the papers. They know enough about that without him. Besides, he may differ in opinion from some, which often results in hot words, bitterness left behind, and his influence gone. There is more than enough to talk of in the shape of Church and parish matters, the private concerns of the family, and occasionally a suggestion about the First Friday Devotion, the Enthronement of the Sacred Heart, etc. Many are the stories he relates of the blessing of the family Rosary, and the way in which it saved the Faith in the Black Times.

His reference to the approaching mission will be more powerful than poster-covered walls.

Moreover, people will talk about their neighbours. So he will gain a good knowledge of his district, and his report on anything amiss is always useful to the priest.

And it will come to this-that his very step, his face, will be like a breath of religion to all, and a special reminder to those that are negligent. People will go to Mass or the Sacraments simply because they saw him and it reminded them of their neglect.

THE SECRET OF INFLUENCING OTHERS

There is an art in the moving of others, and those that work for their neighbour must study it.

Do not say “I cannot,” or “I am not fitted,” or “Nobody heeds me.” For there is one thing that can clothe you with power in your dealings with others-affection for them. This is the great secret of all real influence. To possess it, follow this simple rule-Look only for good qualities in anyone you meet; you will find them. Never look for faults, for you would find them.

Act thus, and you will easily develop the habit of love. Convince those around you by deeds, not phrases, that you truly have this feeling for them, and you can lead them where you like.

GOD IN HIS WORKS

ALL THINGS ARE BUT SIGNPOSTS THAT POINT TO GOD

We have been considering at some length methods of serving God. Let us try to remember they are only methods. There is always a tendency for the interest of any work to absorb us so that we forget why and for Whom he began it.

It is natural that this should happen. The work is visible; the supernatural is not; and we unthinkingly allow the visible things to push the supernatural into the background of our lives. This takes from the value of all our acts as offerings to God.

Instead, a little thoughtfulness would turn those very things which were inclined to lead us away from God into visible reminders of His presence in the world.

When we see a church, even though it is only a spire in the distance, it induces a feeling of reverence at the thought of His Presence with us in the Eucharist. But, then, churches are rare. We want that feeling of reverence over all our life. We can make it habitual if we cultivate the practice of seeing Him in all things.

In the beginning He created all things from nothing. But He did not then cease to work. It requires His omnipotent power to keep all those things there now. Were His Hand removed this second from any object we see, it would at once disappear from our vision into its original nothingness.

Thus, everything we see should tell us that God’s Hand is upon it. A sense of awe should fill us to think that we can touch what He is touching. The waving leaves on the trees tell us of the presence of the breeze which we do not see. Why not make trees and leaves and wind, and all else around us speak plainly to us of the wonderful Power which holds them in existence?

We pick up an insect, or a flower, or bread, or a book. Each one proclaims Him to the thoughtful mind.

St. Bonaventure said of St. Francis of Assisi that he made everything in nature a step in the ladder by which he went to heaven. He loved the very stones beneath his feet because they were the works of his Creator.

All the Saints saw without effort God in His works. Everything was a cause of prayer to them. But there was a time when they were only beginners, as we are. They persevered. Shall we?

YOU ARE THE TEMPLE OF THE HOLY GHOST, WHO IS IN YOU

In considering God in His Works around us, we are not to forget His Presence in ourselves.

It is of Catholic doctrine that the Holy Ghost makes a dwelling in anyone who is free from mortal sin. Life would be greatly brightened if we could bring home to ourselves this wonderful truth.

How could we ever again feel sorrowful, or lonely, or think ourselves poor!

If we consider God in His Heavenly Kingdom, we are apt to think of Him as at a great distance. We know Him as a loving Father, but this sense of remoteness diminishes the sense of His protection. Rather let us think of Him living in each of us, giving our hearts their beat and listening to our inmost thoughts.

Look at the great sun blazing in the sky with enough light and heat for the entire world. He who made it is within us with a glory infinitely greater.

There is holiness in the very thought of this; and the idea of sin, something that will drive out this Divine Tenant, acquires a clearer and more repulsive meaning.

HEAVENS AND EARTH ARE FULL OF THY GLORY

The greatness and the loveliness of God, being infinite, cannot, while we live, be measured by us. We can only feebly search after an idea of them by representing to ourselves the pick and cream of what we know, and then try to raise our minds above that.

Take from what is around, all that is delightful, mighty, pure, exquisite, glorious. Gaze upon them, and their beauty takes their very breath away. But their beauty is only the shadow of His beauty.

In the light of this truth, will not the delicate flower, or sky tinted with splendour, speak to us with a new meaning? Before, we admired them for what they are; rather, let us reverence them for what they suggest.

GOD”S DEALINGS WITH MEN

His goodness is equally beyond our comprehension. Our Lord’s life on earth, or the Host and Chalice lifted up in the Mass, should give us an idea of the depth of the love He has for each individual one of us, however wretched.

We are being dealt with in a princely way. One of the first results of our increase in holiness will be the gradual realisation of the wonderful goodness which is lavished upon us from morning until night. We grumble at the apparent afflictions and punishments that come to us, though each one of them bears, as the saying is, a jewel in its head. We are blind to the fact that nothing which is the bearer of a blessing can really be punishment at all.

God is good. . . . . . Let this be the great thought whenever the shadows thicken. There is nothing from Him which is not kind-though it may seem hard. Whether it is one of those things that people dread most, such as death, or cancer, or bankruptcy, or only a headache, we may be sure it is for the best. There is some hidden mercy in it. God is good. . . . . . God is so good.

TRUST AS A CHARACTERISTIC OF THE SAINTS

In this spirit of trusting faith did the Saints receive whatever came to them. Aware that they were enfolded in the arms of a living Providence, it was equally a cause of thanks to them whether they were cradled to the left or to the right.

This holy spirit is not beyond imitation by all, for we see it in the poor of our day. The greatest calamity is met with fortitude. “There is no cross but breaks a heavier,” they will observe, and then-even though the tears are falling fast- “God’s will be done; welcome be the Holy Will of God.”

We must follow the holy ones of all times in this childlike confidence, this perfect knowledge that He is their Good Father.

OUR LOVE FOR HIM

Our hearts were made to hold the biggest and the purest of loves. For nothing less than this did God intend them. It is dishonouring such vessels to keep in them a love based only on motives of reward or punishment, wholesome though these are. So let us try to send our love for the Good Shepherd to summits far above such thoughts of self and love Him. . . . -”not that in heaven we may reign. . . . not to escape eternal pain. . . . .nor in the hope of any gain..” . . . . . but for Himself, and that we may satisfy with something clean, that great love of His which craves for any return.

And as this pure love strengthens in our hearts, it will soon, like the eagle, grow impatient even of the mountain peaks, and hunger after heights of heights, till-with the Little flower-we will cry out in longing:

“Jesus!. . . . . . . Jesus!. . . . . I would so wish to love You. . . . . . love You as You never yet have been loved.”

Nihil obstat:

P. JONES,

Censor Deputatus.

Imprimatur:

@ DANIEL MANNIX,

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis.

********

Capharnaum And The Eucharist

FRANK DUFF

INDEX

CATHOLICISM insists that Our Lord meant precisely what He said at the Last Supper: “ This is my Body, etc.” Protestants are convinced that He only spoke those words figuratively. It is well nigh impossible to move them from that position if we confine our attention to the Last Supper itself. For frequently enough Our Lord did speak figuratively. But there was a prelude to the Last Supper. It was the disputation which took place at Capharnaum, told of in the sixth Chapter of the Gospel of St. John. That discussion has decisive bearing on the question.

In Our Lord’s time Capharnaum was an important centre. It was situated on the western shore of the Sea of Galilee, and it was the natal place of St. Peter and St. Andrew. Our Lord was often in Capharnaum and it was the scene of many of His miracles.

THE KEYSTONE OF THE FAITH

The Eucharist is the keystone of the Catholic system. It is vital. Destroy it and the whole edifice totters. The Eucharist is the heart from which the other Sacraments draw their efficacy. St. Thomas talks in an extraordinary way about the Eucharist. He declares that all the other Sacraments depend on it; that Baptism itself is only efficacious because it represents an undertaking to receive the Eucharist; and that if a person who has been baptised wilfully denies the Eucharist and refuses to partake of it, that attitude would prevent the flow of sanctifying grace. Those are breath-taking words, but they proceed from the foremost theologian of the Church.

If the Eucharist were to go, there would be no Mass, and it is hard to contemplate the Catholic Church thus deprived.

In fact, if the Eucharist went, it is very hard to see what would really remain.

It is one of the doctrines which Protestantism has repudiated. Having rejected it, it has never been able to make up its mind as to what to put in its place. One might ask: Why put anything? The answer is that there has to be a substitution, because the Scriptural accounts of the Last Supper show that something was instituted there which all the sects agree in calling the Holy Communion. But at that point their agreement ends. Some of the sects have reduced the transaction to such petty significance that it is obvious they would like to be rid of it altogether. But the action and words of Our Lord are too solemn and too formal just to ignore. And so the sects have to stage something which they can allege to be the fulfilment of the Lord’s action on that occasion.

REJECTION MEANS CHAOS

The differences between them cover the entire gamut of possibility. On the one hand one sees the more or less recent Anglican discovery of the Eucharist which is an adopting of our own doctrine. From that, things go to the opposite extreme in a sort of foolish good-fellowship ceremony, involving the taking of a little bread and some wine in a pious frame of mind. The Seventh Day Adventists replace the wine by orange juice on anti-alcoholic principles. It is that circumstance of infinite variation that I would put before you as a first argument for the truth of the Catholic position. But you will understand, when we talk about arguments, that there is in reality for Catholics only one final argument, which is the declaration of the Church. Once it has declared, that settles the fact of the matter. But we have need of arguments for the sake of others. And of course it is desirable that we provide a logical support for the faith that is in us. Our faith should be strengthened by every means.

So I put before you as a first argument the fact that the rejection of the Catholic doctrine of the Eucharist has led to chaos among those who rejected it. This argument by itself would not show the Catholic doctrine to be true, but definitely it would prove that the Protestant position is an impossible one. Because chaos cannot be truth.

THE REALITY MUST SURPASS THE TYPE

A second argument brings us back to Moses. It is the falling of manna in the desert. Moses was a type of Our Lord, and unquestionably the manna was a type of the Eucharist. Ever since Moses it had remained as a constant tradition among the Jews that the Messiah, like Moses, would bring down manna from Heaven.

A point of importance here is that the type must always be exceeded by the reality for which it stands. Any type of Our Lord or any type of Our Lady was only a shadowy, inadequate representation of the mighty Personage whom it foreshadowed. So it was in the case of Moses. Commanding figure though he was, he was as nothing compared with Our Lord for whom he stood. Following out that reasoning, the manna would have to be succeeded by something of an utterly superior sort. It could not be fulfilled by the miracle of the multiplication of the loaves because ordinary bread was in question there, even though miraculously produced. Obviously the manna must be pointing to something as far beyond ordinary bread as Our Lord Himself is beyond Moses. That requirement could, we would imagine, be fulfilled in no lesser thing than the Eucharist itself.

Moreover, when the disciples at Capharnaum challenged Our Lord to imitate Moses by bringing down manna, it is evident that they were not thinking in terms of another multiplying of the loaves, a miracle which had taken place the previous day, but of something more. Our Lord’s reply to that was His description of Himself as the true bread from Heaven. The Protestant retort is that Jesus was only referring to His doctrine and faith in Himself. Is there any justification for such a contention? We shall see.

WHY THE MULTIPLICATION OF LOAVES?

The multiplication of the loaves and the fishes was a preparation of minds for the Eucharist. That event was one of the great dramatic happenings of all time. You will recall the story of the multitude that was pursuing Our Lord- hungry to hear more of His holy words, and eager to watch more of His miracles. He had just been calling down a veritable hail of cures. When He moved away, the multitude followed Him and could not be deterred. He went into the desert. They followed Him there and after three days they were starving. There was a great number of them-the Gospel specifies that there were 5,000 men and does not mention women and children at all. But we can presume that they were there. This multitude had followed the Lord into the desert forgetful of the natural needs, and there they were, so to speak, stranded. Our Lord Himself was the first to notice this, and He enquired what quantity of food could be mobilised. Investigation showed the dismaying fact that there were only five loaves and two fishes which one prudent youth had brought along for his own use.

So, Our Lord directed that these things be yielded up. We are given to understand from the wording that the owner did not make any fuss about it, though he probably thought it was a very silly performance. Then Our Lord took those articles into His hands and blessed them and multiplied them. Around Him were a lot of volunteers, of course headed by the Apostles, who received from His hands that inexhaustible commissariat. And no matter what they took, His hands were still full of the bounty.

Just figure out for yourself that stupendous scene-where the food for that mighty host is flowing, so to speak, out of the hands of Jesus Christ. There is the multitude seated in rows and the busy helpers running with the food. They ate and they ate and they ate of the unlimited feast! Hunger and a free feed are marvellous sauces.

When all had eaten until they could eat no more, the remnants that were left of the repast were gathered up and filled twelve baskets. Then as soon as the people had time to think,the Scripture tells us that they cried: “This is of a truth the Prophet that is to come into the world.” An incredible impression must have been created, and of course the thoughtful ones would have seen in the prodigy the fulfilment of the tradition that the successor to Moses would draw down manna.

Not only among those who had thus benefited, but further afield there must have been a sensation created by that miracle. You have to figure out those thousands of excited people going off and talking about it everywhere. It will be realised what an overwhelming impression it would create throughout Judea. It was in that atmosphere and with minds thus deliberately made ready by Our Lord, that the historic disputation of the next day took place at Capharnaum. But that preparation must necessarily be for something of surpassing magnitude. To suggest that it would end only in another of Our Lord’s incessant pleadings for their belief would be to propose an anti-climax.

THE SERMON IN THE SYNAGOGUE

After the miracle, the people wished to make Him King, so Our Lord fled into the mountains. During the night, while the Apostles were crossing the sea to Capharnaum, He came to them walking on the raging waters. Again this display of divine power as a further prelude to His promise of the Eucharist. As if to say: Believe my words because I can do all things.

The multitude followed in boats of every description, and no doubt a crowd assembled from the other side as well. Appetites were whetted for miracles and everybody wanted to hear Our Lord talk.

He did not gratify their desire for miracles on this occasion, but He certainly did give them words of extraordinary importance. The first part of His dissertation related to faith in Himself and His doctrine. Then at verse 47, according to the Catholic commentators, the second part of His discourse opens up. It was introduced by words which fulfil the role in Scripture of introducing or asserting something of importance; those are the words: “Amen, Amen, I say unto you.”

But now it is better that I put aside my own weak words and set down for you St. John’s rendering of the vital words on which Catholics have based their lives and on which Protestantism has based its great denial: “1 say unto you: He that believeth in Me hath everlasting life. I am the Bread of Life. Your fathers did eat manna in the desert and are dead. This is the Bread which cometh down from Heaven that if any man eat of it He may not die. I am the living Bread which came down from Heaven. If any man eat of this bread, he shall live forever: and the bread that I will give is My flesh for the life of the world. The Jews therefore strove among themselves, saying: How can this man give us His flesh to eat? Then Jesus said to them: Amen, Amen, I say unto you: except you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink His blood, you shall not have life in you. He that eateth My flesh and drinketh My blood hath everlasting life: and 1 will raise him up at the last day. For my flesh is meat indeed, and my blood is drink indeed. He that eateth My flesh and drinketh My blood abideth in Me and I in Him. As the living Father hath sent Me, and I live by the Father, so he that eateth Me, the same also shall live by Me. This is the Bread that came down from Heaven. Not as your fathers did eat manna and are dead. He that eateth this bread shall live forever. These things He said teaching in the synagogue in Capharnaum. Many of His disciples, hearing it, said: This saying is hard and who can hear it?”

TO BE UNDERSTOOD LITERALLY

The Protestant comment on that passage is that Jesus was all the time talking about His doctrine and that His remarks regarding the eating of His flesh are only figurative. That eating would not be real! It would only be figurative!

But the certain fact is that Our Lord could not be using those words figuratively. Why? Because that phrase of eatinga person’s flesh possessed already an invariable, well-understood figurative sense among the Jewish people. As a figurative expression it had only one meaning. It meant to calumniate that person, to speak of him in a vicious way. Examples of that significance occur frequently throughout the Scriptures.

Therefore, let us face the blunt alternatives: Either Our Lord meant His words actually and literally, or else He meant them figuratively. As just pointed out, He could not have meant them figuratively, because that would amount to ordering His hearers to betray Him, to calumniate Him, to attack Him in words, to destroy His character and name as best they could. That is the very behaviour for which very shortly afterwards He would rebuke Judas in the words: “One of you is a devil.” Therefore that figurative interpretation is ruled out. It would be sheer nonsense in the circumstances.

And so it is inevitable, and without alternative, that He meant those words simply and literally in the sense given to them by the Catholic Church, in the sense that all of us receive them. And thus the audience understood it. They had no doubt in the matter. Not for a second did they suppose that He was speaking figuratively. They took Him literally and they were scandalised, asyou can see from St. John’s description which I have copied out for you. “How can this Man give us His flesh to eat?”-that is the way they took it up.

OUR LORD EXPLAINS

With regard to the reply which Our Lord then made, it is necessary to linger for a moment to explain His ordinary method when a statement of His was challenged in any way. Sometimes people took a wrong meaning out of His words, and His practice in those cases was always to correct it-usually prefacing His remarks with that solemn little interjection, “Amen, Amen, I say unto you.”

Sometimes, on the other hand, they understood Him correctly but questioned His statement as extraordinary. In such cases He affirmed what He had said before.

I will give you some examples of this which are familiar to you. There is the case of Nicodemus. You will remember that noble man among the Jews who used to come to Our Lord by night. Nicodemus believed but did not want it to be known. In one of their conversations Our Lord declared to him: “Unless a man be born again, he cannot see the Kingdom of God.” Nicodemus” reply was: “How can a man be born when he is old? Can he enter a second time into the womb of his mother and be born again?” He had taken the material view of things, which was not what was intended,and so Our Lord corrected him: “Amen, Amen, I say to thee, unless a man be born again of water and the Holy Ghost, he cannot enter the Kingdom of Heaven.” There we have a great pointing to the Sacrament of Baptism. Nicodemus had taken the wrong meaning out of it and he was set right. He had taken as literal what was only intended as a figure. Our Lord meant “born again” in a supernatural sense. When He was misunderstood, He made plain His meaning.

Another instance is that of Lazarus. He had been reported as gravely ill. Our Lord’s comment was: “Lazarus, our friend sleepeth; but I go that I may awake him out of sleep.” Whereupon those around said: “If he sleepeth, he shall do well.” But as Lazarus was actually dead and Our Lord meant sleeping in that sense, He said plainly to them: “Lazarus is dead.” One could multiply instances of the kind.

Now I will give you something of the opposite sort, that is, where they understood Our Lord correctly but raised a difficulty. There is the case, described in the Gospel of St. Matthew, where Our Lord said to a man afflicted with the palsy: “Thy sins are forgiven thee.” Some of the scribes were filled with dissent. What right had He to be talking about forgiving sins? He blasphemeth. And Jesus said: “Whether is it easier to say: Thy sins are forgiven thee; or to say: Arise and walk?” Of course the minds of the Jews would at once supply the answer that it would be easier to say: “Thy sins are forgiven thee.” So in order to prove that He could do both the lesser and the greater, He said to the unfortunate creature lying there before Him: “Arise, take up thy bed and go into thy house.” And the man rose up and walked.

Another case is where Our Lord said: “Abraham, your father, rejoiced that he might see My day; he saw it and was glad.” The Jews objected, saying: “Thou art not yet fifty years old, and hast thou seen Abraham?” But Our Lord had meant literally what He had stated, and He told them so in those amazing words: “Before Abraham was made I am,” speaking as God.

That is the context or the atmosphere in which we must view Our Lord’s present attitude. They have said: “How can this man give us His flesh to eat?” His reply was: “Amen, Amen, I say unto you, except you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink His blood, you shall not have life in you.” They had correctly taken Him to be speaking literally and actually and not figuratively. So according to that rule of speech which we have been crediting to Him, He confirmed what He had said; then repeating it again and again for emphasis; finally adding on the Divine threat that they shall not achieve eternal life unless they conform to what He directed, that is, eat His flesh and drink His blood.

Then the disciples retorted: “This saying is hard and who can hear it?” No room for misapprehension there. They have understood an actual eating and drinking to be in question, and Our Lord is insisting on the same. He adds His last word: “No man can come to Me except it be given him by My Father,” conceding that His requirement was hard to mere flesh and blood, and that they must be enlightened by the Father before they can believe in it.

After that-we are told in verse 67 of that chapter-many of the disciples went away and walked no more with Him. Try to call up that painful scene before you as if it were a picture on a screen. There they are-His disciples whom He had drawn to Himself by so many heavenly words and startling deeds; who had forgotten hunger to listen to Him and who wanted to make Him king. Now they are thrown into confusion and are finished with Him all because of a statement which would create no difficulty whatever if it were only a figurative one. But it is not figurative. So He lets them go! He does not make a gesture to stop them!

NO SITTING ON THE FENCE

But if the Protestant interpretation were right: that He did not really mean those words in that hard sense, all He had to say is: “Come back, you are mistaken-no need to go-I only meant all that figuratively. When I said My flesh, I meant My doctrine.” Of course, He would have drawn them all back with that explanation. They were prepared to accept that. It was on that basis that they had been following Him up to that moment.

Oh, what a tragic situation! So much had been offered to them but their faith had not been big enough to take it. They were on the point of entering into history but they walk off into the void of silence.

In such circumstances one would continue to look at the receding figures: surely they will turn back? Hope exhausted, He turns to the Twelve who had remained and said to them: “Will you also go away?” Again see-no withdrawing-no watering down of His words-no effort to explain that He meant something different to what the others had taken out of His words!

But this almost puts us into an agony, even though we know the result! Why does Our Lord press the issue in that way? Does He not realise that the Twelve share all the difficulties felt by the others? Is it not enough that they stay with Him? Why challenge them in a way which may send them off too?

No. The Lord will not retain the unbeliever on those terms. He will not let them sit on such a fence. He forces a radical decision: “Will you also go away?” No half-way course! No escape! They must believe or leave! It is as evident as anything couldbe evident that if they do not accept the Lord’s words in their literalness, they too must go away. In which case He will not have a soul beside Him. Is it in this that all His striving has ended?

I suppose there was a moment between the putting of that question to the Twelve and the coming of their reply. What an extraordinary moment was that one in which the fate of the Catholic Church trembled in the balance. But Scripture gives us the noble words that proceeded from Peter speaking on behalf of his companions: “Lord, to whom shall we go? Thou hast the words of eternal Life, and we have believed and known that Thou art the Christ the Son of God!”

Oh, what a gallant and comprehensive confession of faith! For the “saying” was as hard to them as it was to the others, but they accepted it on the strength of His word.

THE PROMISE FULFILLED

And now to strengthen things even a little more, I return to those words: “This saying is hard and who can hear it?” Usually those words are held to mean: “ This is a difficult statement and who is able to believe it?” But that is appar- ently not the correct meaning. In his remarkable treatise on the Eucharist, Cardinal Wiseman points out that what the words actually signify is: “ This saying is revolting, who can bear to listen to it?” This shows with what unreserved literalness Our Lord’s hearers had taken His words. Among the Jews the eating of human flesh or the drinking of human blood was an extreme abomination punishable by death. It was a transgression of the divine law delivered to Moses. It was condemned repeatedly in the books of the Old Testament. And so it was that those disciples, accustomed to those awful prohibitions, protested: This is revolting and we cannot bear to listen.

So you will see that if there were any way of turning to a figurative explanation, those disciples would have done it instead of accepting what they regarded as an abominable meaning, and then as a consequence walking away and leaving Our Lord forever. There is nothing in what follows in Holy Writ to suggest that those disciples who had thus walked away ever came back.

So the figurative meaning is out of the question. Note too the insistence of Our Lord on that phrase which they found intolerable. He repeated those words about eating His flesh and drinking His blood no less than six times in quick succession, as if He was determined that there would be no doubt whatever about what He was saying; so that afterwards no one could allege: “We did not understand things correctly. We should have had a shorthand writer.”

Capharnaum is the foundation stone, so to speak, for the subsequent episode of the Last Supper. The words of Capharnaum merge into those of the Last Supper, where the promise turns into fulfilment and the ceremony is enacted around which the Catholic religion has ever since revolved. The Eucharist is instituted. Listen. It is the Eternal Son Himself who is speaking.

“And while they were at supper, Jesus took bread and blessed it and broke and gave to His disciples and said: “Take ye and eat; this is My Body.” And taking the chalice, He gave thanks and gave to them saying: “ Drink ye all of this, for this is My Blood of the NewTestament which shall be shed for many unto the remission of sins.” These words are taken from the Gospel of St. Matthew; they are repeated in the Gospel of St. Luke and also in St. Paul.

It is vital to note that the phrase, “My Blood of the New Testament” echoes and fulfils the kindred phrase which It is vital to note that the phrase, “My Blood of the New Testament” echoes and fulfils the kindred phrase which 20): “When every commandment of the law had been read by Moses to all the people, he took the blood of calves and goats with water and scarlet wool and hyssop, and sprinkled both the book itself and all the people saying: “This is the blood of the testament which God hath enjoined unto you.””

How could the Protestant sense be reconciled with all that? Our Lord is talking as Messiah about the fulfilment of the Old Law and the inauguration of the New, the completion of the prophecies, the offering of the Victim, the shedding of the blood of the Lamb of God and the partaking of His flesh. To suppose that all this amounts to no more than a sort of pious little equivalent of a modern tea-party would be a shocking anti-climax and in fact a pantomime act introduced into the sacred drama of Redemption.

“Take ye and eat . . . My Body. Drink ye all of . . . My Blood.” Where are the murmurings, objections, protests and the departures which the mere promise of the Eucharist had produced at Capharnaum? They are not heard because they are not made; they represented a past chapter and a closed one.

What do we see at the Last Supper? Just what would be seen each day at any modern altar-rail-a group of people with hearts full of faith and faces transformed receiving the Bread of Life, the Lord Himself.

The question had been settled for the Apostles at Capharnaum. And to Capharnaum let everyone proceed-by reading and meditation-who doubts the Catholic doctrine of the Eucharist.

Nihil Obstat:

MICHAEL L. DEMPSEY, S.T.D. Censor Theol. Deputat.

Imprimi Potest :

@ JOANNES CAROLUS

Archiep. Dublinen. Hiberniae Primas. Dublini, die 25 Martii, 1961.

********

Capital Punishment

BY REV. JOHN F. MCDONALD, L.C.L

INDEX

Capital punishment is a subject which arouses in men the strongest emotions and one on which there are divergent views, some of them at variance with one point or another of Catholic teaching. There are, for example, those who deny openly that the State has any right to inflict the death penalty, at least in times of peace. Others affirm categorically that the death penalty is something which no Christian can tolerate. Furthermore, some of those who are not Catholics look upon the teaching of the Church on this question as out-dated and old-fashioned, while others, inside the Church, will say that capital punishment is a matter about which Catholics must make up their own minds. In view of this variety of opinions, Catholics need some guidance if they are not to be misled by such utterances, if they are to know in what sense, and to what extent, they are free to form their own opinions on this question.

THE RIGHT OF THE STATE TO INFLICT CAPITAL PUNISHMENT

The first point to note is that the Catholic Church has always defended the view that the right, and therefore the power, of inflicting capital punishment on those who have been found guilty of more atrocious crimes, has been conceded by God to the lawful supreme civil authority for the common good.

The scriptural basis for this teaching is to be found in several Books of the Old Testament (Gen. 9: 6; Ex. 21:22; Lev. 24:17; Deut. 19:11–12), and in the New Testament in chapter 13, verse 4, of St Paul’s Epistle to the Romans. In the opening verses of this chapter, St Paul speaks of the Christian’s duty to obey the lawful civil authority and of the power of the State to punish evil-doers. In verse 3, the Apostle gives this rule to the Christian: ‘If thou wouldst be free from the fear of authority, do right, and thou shalt win its approval; the magistrate is God’s minister, working for thy good.’ Then, in verse 4, St Paul goes on to say: ‘Only if thou dost wrong, needst thou be afraid; it is not for nothing that he bears the sword; he is God’s minister still, to inflict punishment on the wrong-doer.’

All Catholic commentators agree that St Paul is teaching here that the lawful civil authority has the right to punish wrong-doers even by death—‘it is not for nothing that he bears the sword.’ Referring to this text, Pope Pius XII says that it is God who is punishing the criminal through the instrumentality of man, and he states that attention is called here to the function of expiation in punishment. (Address to the Sixth Congress of International Penal Law, 3 October 1953. Acta Apostolicae Sedis, V01.45, p.742.)

It is interesting to note that St Paul himself implicitly recognizes the right of the State to inflict capital punishment, when, at his trial before Festus in Caesarea, he protests: ‘If I have done something which deserves death, I do not ask for reprieve’ (Acts 25:10.

None of the Fathers of the Church denied this right to the lawful civil authority. They considered that the State was acting as God’s delegate in this matter. The State not only derives its authority and purpose from God, it has also a right to make use of those means without which it cannot carry out its primary duty to preserve public order and security, and in so far as capital punishment is necessary for this end, the State has the right to use it.

This traditional teaching of the Church, which has also been constantly upheld by Catholic theologians, was denied by the Waldensian heretics in the 13th century, and, in the Profession of Faith drawn up for them by Pope Innocent III in 1208, they were required to profess their belief in the right of the State to inflict capital punishment within just limits on those who have been found guilty of heinous crimes.

Since punishment generally takes the form of depriving the guilty person of some benefit in expiation of his crime, Pope Pius XII, addressing the first International Congress of the Histopathology of the Nervous System in Rome on 14 September 1952, shows how this factor is present even when it is a question of capital punishment. ‘Even when it is a question of the execution of a man condemned to death,’ says the Pope, ‘the State does not dispose of the individual’s right to live. It is reserved rather to the public authority to deprive the criminal of the benefit of life when already, by his crime, he has deprived himself of the right to live.’ (A.A.S., V01.45, p.787.)

THE DEATH OF MAN

Before discussing the conditions required for the lawful use of the death penalty, something must be said, however briefly, about what is involved in the death of a human being. Death is the separation of the soul from the body. It marks the end of man’s life on this earth. This is a natural phenomenon which need not surprise us. The material body, which we possess, is no exception to the general rule according to which material things gradually deteriorate, wear out and perish. At death, the soul leaves the body because the body no longer presents conditions in which it can respond to the presence and life-giving activity of the soul. This comes about when the body is utterly weakened by disease, is worn out as a result of continued wear and tear, or suddenly suffers serious damage because of some accident, e.g. a car crash.

While the body disintegrates at death, the soul does not die. The dissolution of the soul and body does not mean the soul’s destruction. It is in fact indestructible, immaterial and spiritual. Though the soul cannot be observed by the senses (it cannot, for example, be seen or touched), it is none the less real. It is able to have its own existence after death when the body and soul are dissolved. During life the presence of the soul is manifested by certain human activities which point to the nature of the source from which they spring. Rather than attempt an inadequate explanation of all this, we refer the reader to the relevant Catholic publications. Suffice it to say, that the power of forming abstract ideas, of self-reflection and self-consciousness, the capacity to know and love everything that exists, are characteristic activities of the human soul which are incapable of any material explanation. The only adequate explanation is that they must proceed from a principle which is itself immaterial, indestructible and spiritual; this principle we call the human soul.

In the present order of things man’s death is not simply a biological process. Reason, unaided by Revelation, certainly tells us that death follows as a natural result of the compound of body and spirit which we call man. It is impossible, however, to treat of death without some reference to the doctrine of the Fall and the Redemption, factors which reason itself would not be able to discover, if God had not revealed them to us.

When God created our first parents He gave them sanctifying grace, which would enable them to attain personal union with Him, as well as other special gifts, all of which were in no way necessary to them as human beings. They could claim no right whatever to them. God intended that these gifts should pass to Adam’s posterity, but Adam, the source from which every human being derives his nature, lost these gifts by his sin. Thus his descendants, deprived of these gifts, are born in a state of original sin. Among these special gifts was that of freedom from suffering and death, and scripture tells us quite clearly that the suffering and death which we now experience are the effect and punishment of the sin of Adam which all his children have inherited.

Christ came to restore to us the grace we had lost through Adam, to redeem us by His death. At the first moment of its existence the humanity of Christ was endowed with the fullness of grace and truth, and of His fullness we have all received. Christ, however, did not possess the special gifts of freedom from suffering and death, because He suffered and died: He overcame sin, because He overcame death, which is the effect of sin, by rising from the dead.

The work of Christ is applied to us in baptism. Baptism takes away what Adam caused in us. Through this sacrament we share fully in the effects of Christ’s suffering and death and we become friends of God and capable of personal union with Him. This life gives us the one opportunity to choose God freely and to decide our destiny for ever. If the moment of death still finds us a friend of God by reason of the grace that is in us, death for us will be a meeting with Christ; and our soul, separated from the body, will be destined for God, in whose presence it will rejoice until the day when the body will rise and be reunited to the soul to enjoy the happiness of Heaven forever.

Although the Christian may be saddened at the thought of the sufferings of death, he is consoled by the knowledge that if he is found faithful to grace he can look forward to the promise of eternal life. At death, life for him is not taken away but is changed into something infinitely better than anything he had experienced in this world. He looks upon death as a share in Christ’s victory and his birth into external life.

For those who deny the existence of the human soul and who look upon the body of man merely as a chemical compound, for those who do not share the belief of Christians in life after death, who lack Christian hope, death is indeed the greatest of human tragedies, it is the end of everything, and in its presence they can only give way to sorrow, desolation and even despair.

Conditions for the Lawful Use of the Right of Capital Punishment Whilst it is Catholic teaching that the State has the right to inflict capital punishment, certain conditions must be fulfilled, if this right is to be lawfully used. It is necessary for the accused to have been proved guilty of having committed the grave crime which is punishable by death, and that this punishment be considered necessary for the common good of society. There must, therefore, be a fair judicial trial in which every effort is made to ascertain the true facts of the case.

On the question of guilt, Pope Pius XII refers to two extreme views which can also have a bearing on the subject of capital punishment. On the one hand, there are those who are inclined to admit guilt too readily, and on the other, those who deny it with-out sufficient reason. Of the former, His Holiness says: ‘Those who are inclined to hasty judgements of guilt are forgetting that nowadays it is not enough to take into account the “traditional” extenuating circumstances which are laid down by jurisprudence and by the natural and Christian moral laws. They must also give some thought to the points established by recent studies in scientific psychology; in some cases this helps us to recognize a considerable reduction in the degree of responsibility involved. The other tendency uses these same findings of modern psychology as the basis for affirming that the practical possibilities of making a free decision, and hence the real responsibility of a great number of men, is reduced to a bare minimum. In dealing with this unfounded generalization, we can, on the basis of everyday living and of scientific experience, in the fields of law and morals, assert that most men—and we might say the vast majority—have not merely a natural capacity but also a real power in practice to make their own independent decisions and govern their own conduct, except for individual cases where you can prove the opposite. This means that morals and law are not frozen in an out-of-date attitude when they say that the burden of proof must lie in establishing where freedom ends rather than where it begins. Sound reason and common sense rise up against the kind of practical determinism that would reduce liberty and responsibility to a minimum, and they can find ample support in the practice of law, in social life and in the revelation of the Old and New Testament.’ (Address to Italian Jurists, 26 May 1957, A.A.S., V01.49, pp.405–6.) Neither the cause of justice nor the common good would be served if this second view were followed in practice.

Of the judge himself, Pope Pius XII says: ‘He must possess certain knowledge of the act to be punished both from the objective and subjective standpoints; that is, he must be certain of the actual commission of the crime and of the guilt of the accused and of the extent and gravity of this guilt’ . . . ‘According to the nature of the case, the judge must consult outstanding specialists on the capacity and responsibility of the accused and must consider also the findings of the modern sciences of psychology, psychiatry and character study. Where there still remains a grave and serious doubt despite all precautions, no conscientious judge will pronounce a sentence of condemnation, particularly when there is question of an irrevocable punishment such as the death penalty.’ (Address to the Italian Association of Catholic Jurists, 5 December 1954, A.A.S., V01.47, pp.64–5.)

One might ask, at this stage, in what way the conditions laid down by Pope Pius XII for passing sentence are realized under English Law. First of all, it must be remembered that in English Law only minor crimes are tried by a judge (or magistrate) alone. Capital offences, being major crimes, are tried by a judge and jury, the verdict being that of the jury. In all criminal cases the standard of proof required is that the jury should be satisfied of guilt beyond all reasonable doubt. Any reasonable doubt must be resolved in favour of the accused. Moral guilt is taken into account when issues arise as to intention, diminished responsibility (in murder), or insanity. Intention is legally much more rigidly interpreted than in common parlance: it is most often implied. Environment and provocation may also be taken into account and reduce murder to manslaughter. Whilst responsibility in cases of mental disorder is still largely measured by the 120-year-old, much criticized, McNaughten Rules, in murder alone there is now available a lesser standard, namely ‘diminished responsibility.’ To establish insanity within the McNaughten Rules it must be shown that the accused did not know the nature and quality of his act, or alternatively did not know that it was wrong. It is now the practice in English Law to obtain independent medical evidence, e.g. by consulting a psychiatrist from outside the prison service, in cases where mental considerations directly arise. All this is in complete agreement with the statements on the subject by Pope Pius XII which have already been given, as well as with those that are to follow.

HUMAN JUDGE NOT INFALLIBLE

A very real difficulty in connection with capital punishment arises in some people’s minds by reason of the fact that no human judge is infallible. In their view, to justify the passing of such an irrevocable sentence, human judgement would have to be infallible; otherwise capital punishment is unjust. Pope Pius XII deals with this difficulty as follows : ‘The knowledge required for the pronouncing of a sentence of punishment is, in the case of God, the Supreme Judge, a perfectly clear and infallible knowledge’ . . . ‘God is present to man, both in his internal decision and in the external execution of the criminal act. Every factor is completely revealed to His vision down to the last detail. The act in its entirety is present to His knowledge as clearly now as at the moment it was committed. But knowledge of such complete thoroughness and absolute certainty, of every instant of life and every human act, is proper to God alone. For this reason God reserves to Himself alone the final judgement on the value of man and the decision on his ultimate fate..’ . . . ‘The human judge, on the other hand, does not enjoy the same manner of presence nor has he the complete knowledge which is proper to God alone, and so he must, before passing a judicial sentence, form for himself a moral certitude. That is, he must have certainty which excludes all reasonable and serious doubt concerning the external act and the internal guilt of the crime.

‘The human judge is handicapped because he does not have immediate insight into the interior dispositions of the accused at the exact moment of the crime; very often the judge cannot even reconstruct them with absolute clarity from the arguments which are brought as proof, and sometimes not even from the confession of the accused himself. However, this handicap should not be exaggerated to the point where it seems humanly impossible for the judge to obtain sufficient certitude to impose a sentence’ . . . (then follows what has already been quoted about doubtful cases). . . . . ‘In most cases the external mode of behaviour is sufficient manifestation of the interior motive for the criminal deed.

Normally, therefore, it is possible—and very often obligatory—to draw a substantially sound conclusion from the overt behaviour of the accused; were it not so, human judicial functions would be impossible. On the other hand, it must be remembered that no human judgement can settle finally and definitively the fate of a person, for this is decided by the judgement of God alone, whether it be a question of a single action, or of those of a whole lifetime. Consequently every mistake of a human judge will be corrected by the Supreme Judge of all..’ . . . ‘This, of course, is not to be understood as dispensing the human judge from a painstaking and conscientious effort to ascertain the truth. However, it is a wonderful consolation to realize that there will be a final balance between guilt and punishment which will leave nothing to be desired.’ (Address, 5 December 1954, A.A.S., V01.47, p.64.) Here we have an answer to those who say that the judge must have absolute certainty before passing sentence. It is clear, from what has been said, that moral certainty based on human evidence is sufficient to warrant the passing of a sentence and inflicting the penalty. The fact that the accused is guilty of the crime in question must be proved beyond reasonable doubt, after a thorough and conscientious effort has been made in a Court of Law to ascertain the true facts of the case. Everything must be done to diminish the risk of error, especially when it is a question of an irrevocable penalty.

THE MEANING AND SCOPE OF LEGAL PUNISHMENT

Before treating of the last condition for the lawful use of the right of capital punishment, namely, its practical necessity in modern times, something must be said about the meaning and scope of legal punishment in general, because the opinions held about the lawfulness of capital punishment are closely connected with different theories held about the meaning and scope of punishment itself. Some would limit the scope of punishment to the correction of the delinquent and say that it should always be reformative or remedial. Others see in punishment a means used by the State to deter citizens from committing crimes, and in their view the scope of punishment should be deterrent or preventive. Many civil jurists today reject the view that punishment should be retributive. This may well be due to the fact that they make retribution synonymous with vengeance. Some people point to the text of Romans 12:19, where Christians are told not to avenge themselves against their enemies: ‘For vengeance is for me, I will repay, says the Lord.’ It should be noted that St Paul in this chapter is giving rules for the Christian’s private conduct towards his enemies. The Apostle is not treating of the right and duty of the State to punish evil-doers. It is clear, from what has already been said, that he deals expressly with the Christian’s duty of obedience to the lawful civil authority, and the power of the State to punish evil-doers even by death, in the following chapter of his Epistle. The principle of retribution which is inherent in all punishment, and therefore in legal punishment, is not in any sense vengeance or revenge. It corresponds to the instinctive desire in men to repel and punish violence, to see justice done and public order, which has been violated or seriously disturbed by crime, restored by a penalty proportioned to the crime and the culpability of the offender, meted out by the competent public authority.

This principle of retribution in legal punishment serves also to remind the criminal of the existence of this moral order in society, an order which he may not violate with impunity. Therefore, when public authority uses its God-given power to punish a criminal for his offence against society, far from acting in a spirit of retaliation, it is simply administering the penalty in accordance with the natural law referred to by St Paul in Romans 13:4, which requires that such offences be punished.

This same principle of retribution prevents excessive severity on the one hand, and extreme leniency on the other, in the administration of punishment. If deterrence were the sole guiding rule in this matter, great injustice would be the result, since any punishment could be imposed for any crime, provided it was calculated to deter others. Alternatively, others, being guided merely by their emotions, would tend to impose too light a punishment for really serious crimes.

Retribution respects the dignity of man by taking account of the fact that man is a responsible person, whilst at the same time it admits that there can be degrees of responsibility, or that it can be completely lacking in a particular case. To deny all responsibility, in the belief that all criminal acts are pathological, and yet to demand punishment even as a merely ‘therapeutic’ measure, would likewise lead to injustice and the punishing of the innocent. Hence it is, that Pope Pius XII teaches that ‘it would be incorrect to reject completely, and as a matter of principle, the function of retributive punishment. The result of retributive penalties is in no way opposed to the function of punishment, which is the re-establishment and restoration of the order of justice which has been disrupted, a function which is essential to all punishment.’ (Address, 5 December 1954, A.A.S., V01.47, p.67.)

Pope Pius XII defines punishment as ‘the reaction demanded by law and justice against crime,’ and he states that ‘the proper function of law and justice is to preserve the harmonious balance between duty on the one hand, and law on the other, and to re-establish this harmony where it has been disturbed.’ (A.A.S., V01.47, p.62.) The order of justice has been disrupted because ‘the criminal by his evil deed has refused to show due subordination, due service, due devotion, due respect and homage to the civil authority. Objectively, he has committed an offence against the loftiness and majesty of the law, or rather the law’s author, guardian, judge and vindicator. Justice requires that as much service, devotion, homage and honour be restored to authority as were taken from that authority by the crime.’ (A.A.S., V01.47, p.75.) Furthermore, the principle of retribution in punishment protects not only what it is the purpose of the law to protect, but it protects the law itself. Pope Pius XII states that ‘this retributive function of punishment is concerned not immediately with what is protected by the law but with the very law itself. There is nothing more necessary for the national and international community than respect for the majesty of the law and the salutary thought that the law is sacred and protected, so that whoever breaks it is liable to punishment and will be punished.’ (Address to the Sixth Congress of International Penal Law, 3 October 1953, A.A.S., V01.45, p.742.)

In the same address the Pope analyses the modern conception of punishment (which excludes the retributive element), and asks if it is fully adequate. ‘Most modern theories of penal law explain punishment and justify it in the last resort as a protective measure, that is, a defence of the community against crimes being attempted : and at the same time an effort to lead the culprit back to the observance of the law. In these theories punishment may indeed include sanctions in the form of a reduction of certain advantages guaranteed by the law, in order to teach the culprit to live honestly : but they fail to consider expiation of the crime committed, which itself is a sanction on the violation of the law, as the most important function of punishment.’ (A.A.S., V01.45, p.742.) The Pope concludes his address with an appeal to the members of his audience ‘not to refuse to consider this ultimate reason for punishment merely because it does not seem to produce immediate practical results.’ (A.A.S., V01.45, p.744.)

Retribution, therefore, has an important place in the meaning and purpose of punishment. It requires that the penalty be proportioned to the gravity of the crime and the culpability of the criminal, and this principle is violated when the punishment is out of all proportion to the offence committed. That is why it is impossible to justify, on this principle, the death penalty for over two hundred minor offences which were on the Statute Book as capital offences in England in the year 1800. Grave crime, however, deserves a correspondingly grave punishment. Wilful murder is a most serious offence and to ask the murderer to pay the supreme penalty is not to inflict a penalty out of proportion to the crime he has committed.

To those who might look upon this insistence on the retributive aspect of punishment as out-of-date, Pope Pius XII points out that ‘the Church in her theory and practice has maintained retributive as well as medicinal penalties’ and that ‘this is more in conformity with what the sources of revelation and traditional doctrine teach regarding the coercive power of legitimate human authority. It is not a sufficient reply to this assertion to say that the above-mentioned sources contain only thoughts which correspond to the historic circumstances and to the culture of the time, and that a general and abiding validity cannot therefore be attributed to them. The reason is that the words of the sources and of the living teaching power do not refer to the specific content of individual juridical prescriptions or rules of action (cf. particularly Romans 13:4), but rather to the essential foundation itself of penal power and of its immanent finality. This, in turn, is as little determined by the conditions of time and culture as the nature of man and the human society decreed by nature itself.’ (Address to the Italian Association of Catholic Jurists, 5 February 1955, A.A.S., V01.47, p.81.)

Whilst in the Catholic view retribution is the essential and primary principle of legal punishment, the purpose of punishment is not purely retributive; it is also reformative and deterrent. At the same time, it does not follow that these three elements need be present or will be present in every type of punishment in practice. It does not follow that because a criminal proves to be incorrigible he must go unpunished.

Capital punishment certainly cannot bring about the reform of the criminal except in the sense that, faced with imminent death, his conscience may be aroused and he may be moved to repent of his crime, make his peace with God and die a good death. But even here the punishment can be said to be fulfilling its function of redeeming the criminal through repentance. For this reason spiritual help should be made available for those who are condemned to death as long as such help may be needed. It should be noted that although St Thomas Aquinas teaches that in this life penalties should be remedial rather than retributive, when treating of capital punishment he says that the fact that the criminal is not given an opportunity of reforming himself, in the generally accepted meaning of the term, is no reason for abolishing the death penalty. In his view the common good of the community takes precedence over the private good of the individual. (Contra Gentiles, Bk.III, c.147.) This is a point that some writers fail to note and therefore their appeal to St Thomas is not a valid one.

The lawful use of the death penalty, therefore, will depend on its effectiveness as a deterrent in the state of society in which we live today. Punishment is lawful and the civil authority inflicts it lawfully when such punishment is shown to be necessary for the common good. If penalties less severe than the death penalty can be shown to be as effective in safeguarding the common good by maintaining public order and by protecting society, the State would not be justified in using its right to capital punishment. This brings us to the discussion of the last condition mentioned above.

IS CAPITAL PUNISHMENT NECESSARY TODAY?

The answer to this question will depend on that given to the further question: Is capital punishment an effective deterrent today?

It cannot be denied that there are differences of opinion about the deterrent value of the death penalty today, and, therefore, Catholics are free to make up their minds about this question. The most we can do is to list the various arguments produced by both sides in favour of their respective views.

In the first place it should be noted that the debate in Parliament at the time of the Homicide Bill 1957 showed that the arguments brought forward did not prove the case for deterrence either way.

Those who favour the retention of capital punishment argue that it would be against sound common sense to conclude that all criminals are in no way affected by the death penalty. They say that most men instinctively abhor death as the greatest of physical evils, and that this is shown by the fact that those who are condemned to death often ask for the sentence to be commuted and they gratefully accept a reprieve.

Those who favour the abolition of the death penalty reply that while this may be true in theory, in practice there are criminals who commit crimes in the heat of passion without giving a thought to the consequences, or who are so depraved as not to think of the penalty in the hope that they will escape justice.

The retentionists point to the evidence given before the Royal Commission on Capital Punishment in this country (1949–53), which shows that many experienced persons are of the opinion that the death penalty is a uniquely effective deterrent both to professional criminals and young thugs. They also state that experienced judges, lawyers and officials consider that the abolition of capital punishment in this country would be likely to lead to an increase in the number of capital murders. They argue further that the police and those in the prison service, both of whom have a knowledge and experience of the criminal classes which is far greater than that of the ordinary citizen, share the same views.

The abolitionists answer that there are also judges who want to see the end of hanging, that any possible future rise in the murder rate with the abolition of the death penalty is something that can be proved only by facts, and that the police and prison officers are not entirely disinterested parties in this matter. They also note that some concern has been expressed in certain quarters about the effect of executions on prison chaplains, doctors, staff and other prisoners.

The protagonists of abolition draw attention to the fact that in those countries, with conditions similar to those in England, where the death penalty has been abolished, there has been no rise in the murder rate, so that the death penalty cannot be the effective deterrent it is thought to be.

The antagonists of abolition argue that this is not a matter that can be proved purely by statistics, and they quote in passing that England has one of the lowest murder rates in the world. Among the many factors that influence the murder rate they number the national mentality and temperament, peace and war, the home influence, housing, the existence of a strong police force, and the alternative to capital punishment, which in some countries is solitary confinement for many years or actual imprisonment for life; e.g. in Norway the murderer must spend the rest of his life in prison and hand over whatever he may earn by his work to the family of his victim. Finally, they observe that in the countries in question the death penalty was abolished at the will of the majority.

Those favouring abolition point to the fact that after 1861, when the death penalty was removed for over two hundred minor offences, the figures for the years immediately following show that the number of convictions for such offences decreased rather than increased.

Those favouring the retention of the death penalty say that the proportion of convictions to crimes is not properly indicated by the statistics since, in the years preceding 1861, juries were reluctant to convict precisely because they considered the penalty to be too severe.

Space will allow us to mention just a few of the other arguments produced by both sides in addition to those which centre round the deterrent value of capital punishment and the logical possibility that an innocent man may be hanged, which has already been dealt with by Pope Pius XII.

The abolitionists maintain that the existence of the death penalty creates a morbid interest and curiosity in murder, and, because of the fascination which it awakens in some people’s minds, it is the cause of an increase in the murder rate.

The retentionists say that in this case the remedy is to be found, to a great extent, in not giving undue publicity to such cases in the press, and in refraining from certain lurid descriptions of scenes connected with the trial, the death cell and the execution.

The abolitionists say that capital punishment is both degrading and brutalizing, and they point to experiments in other countries where, after terms of imprisonment, murderers have been reformed and turned into useful citizens.

The retentionists hold, on the other hand, that capital punishment is neither degrading nor brutalizing, and they quote expert medical opinion to the effect that the method of execution is most expeditious and causes quick and painless death. They say that the alternative of life imprisonment is demoralizing by reason of the fact that murderers must spend their lives mixing with men who have been convicted of gross crime. They have also the haunting fear that unless sentences of ‘life imprisonment’ mean imprisonment for life, there is a great danger to society that some murderers will give way to relapses after their release, and they refer to one or two rare instances which have occurred in recent times.

Finally, both abolitionists and retentionists point to the grave anomalies and grave difficulties raised by the Homicide Act 1957 and the confusion in men’s minds as to what really constitutes capital murder.

CATHOLICS AND THE ABOLITION OF CAPITAL PUNISHMENT

In the various Papal addresses quoted in this pamphlet, Pope Pius XII does not directly deal with the question of the abolition of capital punishment. The general impression given is that the Pope takes the death penalty for granted; indeed, he lists it among the penalties that have been used, are being used, and will be used by the civil authority, without passing any comment. ‘The penal justice of the past,’ says His Holiness, ‘that of the present to a certain degree, and—if it is true that history often teaches us what to expect in the future—that of tomorrow as well, makes use of punishments involving physical pain. . . . and capital punishment in various forms.’ (Address to Italian Jurists, 26 May 1957, A.A.S., V01.49, p.408.) It is hard to escape the conclusion that Pope Pius XII also had capital punishment in mind when he stated, in his address on 5 December 1954, that ‘imprisonment or solitary confinement are not the only good and just forms of punishment,’ and he refers to what he had to say in an earlier address about the retributive aspect of punishment. (A.A.S., V01.47, p.67.)

When Pope Pius XII was asked about certain penal reforms that had been referred to him, this is what he had to say: ‘The goals envisioned in this reform, namely, the simplification of the law, the broader scope allowed to equity and to spontaneous good judgement, the better adaptation of penal law to popular feeling, are all beyond objection. While there are no difficulties in the theory of such a reform, obstacles may be encountered in the form of its realization. For, on the one hand, the guarantees of the existing order must be preserved, and, on the other, new needs and reasonable desires of reforms must be taken into account.’ (A.A.S., V01.47, p.66.) What the Pope has to say here can help us in coming to a decision about the abolition of capital punishment. Each one should ask himself this question: Having regard to the conditions prevailing in this country today, can it be said that the existing order is likely to be preserved or threatened, if capital punishment were to be abolished?

Finally, in answer to the question, ‘May a Catholic support a campaign for the abolition of the death penalty?’ one must first of all point out that, in any discussion about the abolition of the death penalty, a distinction must be made between the right of the State to inflict capital punishment and the use of this right. A Catholic may not deny that the State has the right and therefore he may not give his support to any movement for the abolition of the death penalty if such a movement is an expression of the denial that the State has the right to inflict it. Nor may a Catholic give his support to such a campaign if it is the expression of a general denial of the personal responsibility of the criminal for his crime and for its adequate expiation. A Catholic is entitled to argue, however, that in the present state of our civilization the use of the death penalty is not a practical necessity, and to that extent he may give his support to any movement for its abolition which is inspired by humanitarian motives. It must always be understood, however, that even if the use of the death penalty were to be abolished, the State would still have the right, and in a particular case even the duty, to reintroduce the death penalty, if it were to be considered necessary in the circumstances for the security and adequate protection of society.

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Cardinal Newman

SCHOLAR OF OXFORD: A SOUL’S QUEST FOR TRUTH

BY REV. JOHN A. O’BRIEN, PH.D., LL.D

INDEX

Every great achievement, it has been observed, is but the lengthened shadow of a great man. A movement which has weathered the storms of more than a century and still exercises its influences upon the direction of human thought is indeed no small achievement. Such is the Oxford Movement, which projects into our modern day the mighty figure of John Henry Newman, scholar of Oxford, litterateur, philosopher, theologian and Cardinal of the Catholic Church. Toward the close of the last century Lord Coleridge reflected the sentiment of many an Englishman in referring to Newman as “that great man who still survives at Birmingham in venerable age, but with undimmed mental eye and unabated force of genius, a Roman Cardinal in title, but the light and guide of multitudes of grateful hearts outside his own communion and beyond the limits of these small islands.” After the lapse of half a century, instead of growing dim, that light shines with increasing brilliance as a beacon light for ever-enlarging multitudes of people outside his own communion and beyond the British Isles. The numerous volumes about him which have issued from the press in the last few years mirror this constantly widening interest among people of every faith in the retiring scholar of Oxford, who still speaks to a listening world from the pages of his mighty books.

Born in London on February 21, 1801, Newman was the eldest son of John Newman, a banker, and of Jemima Fourdrinier, of Huguenot extraction. He was of a quiet, retiring nature, finding his recreation less in school games and more in the reading of the Bible and the novels of Scott which were then in the course of publication. From his mother he received his religious training, which was a modified Calvinism. At sixteen he entered Trinity College, Oxford, and in the following year he gained a scholarship of £60, tenable for nine years. When only twenty-one he was elected a fellow of Oriel, then the acknowledged centre of Oxford intellectual life. In 1824 he was ordained and became tutor of Oriel, and later was appointed vicar of St. Mary’s, the University Church at Oxford.

He took a Mediterranean trip with Froude, whose health was impaired, visiting Sicily, Naples, and Rome. There he met Dr. Wiseman, then Rector of the English College, who was destined to play an important part in his later career. Returning from Rome to Sicily alone, he was stricken with a dangerous fever at Leonforte. Recalling in later years the details of this critical illness, Newman saw himself upon his bed, a prey to delirium, with death hovering near, giving final instructions to his Italian servant, but adding the strange words, the memory of which was to haunt him later on: “I shall not die, I shall not die, for I have not sinned against the light . . . God has still a work for me to do.” When the worst of the fever had passed, and he had determined to continue his journey, he remembered himself sitting on the bed of the inn, still weak and sobbing, and saying to his servant, who understood not a word: “I have a work to do in England.” What that work was, he had no idea then. But subsequent events were to prove with a vengeance that he had a work to do.

With difficulty he reached Palermo, aching to get home. He crossed the Mediterranean, then France, and was sailing home when the vessel became becalmed in the Straits of Bonifacio. While walking the deck, and gazing up at the darkened sky, he composed the poem, “Lead, Kindly Light,” which has become a favourite hymn in all the Christian churches. It reveals to us the state of his mind questing for the light that he might obey the mysterious voice telling him that he had “a work to do.”

Lead, kindly light, amid the encircling gloom, Lead Thou me on!

The night is dark, and I am far from home, Lead Thou me on!

Keep Thou my feet; I do not ask to see

The distant scene,-one step enough for me.

So long Thy power hath blest me, sure it still Will lead me on, O’er moor and fen, o’er crag and torrent, till The night is gone; And with the morn those Angel faces smile

Which I have loved long since, and lost awhile.

THE OXFORD MOVEMENT

Newman landed in England on July 9, 1833. A few days later what is called “The Oxford Movement” began. Arriving at Oxford, Newman found his friends greatly excited over the government’s Bill to suppress a number of the Anglican bishoprics in Ireland. It was regarded by them as a shocking usurpation by the State, a clear manifestation that the Government considered the Church its creature, with which it could do as it saw fit. What then became of the Church as a divine institution, Apostolical in character, having a charter independent of the State, a conviction which these Anglican divines liked to entertain? Keble declared war against the measure in a sermon on “National Apostacy,” which he preached at St. Mary’s on July 14, 1833. The sermon was printed, widely distributed, and created a great stir.

Newman later wrote “that he had ever considered and kept the day as the start of the religious Movement of 1833,” subsequently known as the Oxford Movement. While Keble first sounded the tocsin, and Pusey spread further the alarm, it was Newman who was the real leader of the more. It was becoming increasingly apparent even to his reluctant eyes that soon he would be obliged to choose between Rome, the historic centre of Christian unity, with its emphasis upon apostolicity of doctrine and of practice, and the Church which Henry VIII had ushered into the world and which felt no need to hark back to the centre of unity for its credentials.

“I SAW MY FACE. . . .”

Newman was further unsettled by an article which Dr. Wiseman, who had now returned to England, had published in The Dublin Review. Wiseman compared the Donatist heretic with the Anglican. Newman had previously made an exhaustive study of the Arians and other heretical sects in the first five centuries, and he found the comparison disturbing. “I must confess,” wrote Newman, “that it has given me a stomach-ache. . . . At this moment we have sprung a leak; and the worst of it is that those sharp fellows, Ward, Stanley and Co., will not let one go to sleep upon it . . . this is a most uncomfortable article on every account.”

The more he pondered upon the parallel suggested by Wiseman between the earlier heresies, such as Donatism and Monophysitism, and the Anglican formularies, the more and more obvious it seemed, and by the same token the more difficult did escape become. “My stronghold was antiquity,” said Newman; “now here, in the middle of the fifth century, I found, as it seemed to me, Christendom of the sixteenth and nineteenth centuries reflected. I saw my face in that mirror, and I was a Monophysite.”

Wiseman had quoted with telling effect the famous phrase of St. Augustine, “Securus judicat orbis terrarum,” which may be interpreted, “Catholic consent is the judge of controversy.” There burst in upon Newman the concept of a living Church, witnessed to in the past by Nicaea, Ephesus, and Chalcedon, and witnessed to at the present by its churches, schools, and monasteries in all the countries of the world. True, the seed had unfolded into a mighty tree but it had not lost its identity in the phenomenon of worldwide growth. The shadow of Rome as an institution destined by its Founder for mankind in all the ages, was overclouding his Anglican compromise, his “Via Media.” From this time on, Newman was on his deathbed, he confessed afterward, as regards his membership in the Anglican Church.

Newman was not to take a step, however, which would change the whole course of his life without long and deliberate study and prayer. For three years he remained at Littlemore with a band of disciples, seeking light from above that they might chart their course aright. They lived under monastic conditions in great physical austerity and in an atmosphere of anxiety and suspense. To his disciples he assigned the task of writing the lives of the English saints, while he occupied himself with the completion of an essay on the development of doctrine, by which principle he sought to trace the growth of the mustard seed of Apostolic teaching into the mature doctrines of the Catholic Church. By more than a decade he thus anticipated Darwin’s formulation of the principle of organic evolution which was to win him lasting fame in biology. Newman replaced the static principle hitherto prevailing in religious thought with a dynamic one-the principle of growth, development, evolution.

While Newman was at Littlemore he received letters from a number of his friends urging him to take no step that he would regret later on. Among such pleas was one from his sister, Mrs. John Mozley, reminding him “of those many anxious minds waiting and watching your every motion, who would misunderstand your proceedings, and consider it a beginning of a formal disengaging of yourself from your own Church.” She also enclosed a letter from a lady who voiced the plea of many against being deprived of the guidance which they had come to rely upon from Newman. Its sad tone was well calculated to touch Newman’s heart.

“I have been thinking,” she wrote, “that among all the opinions and feelings your brother is called upon to sympathize with, perhaps he hears least and knows least of those who are, perhaps, the most numerous class of all- people living at a distance from him, and scattered over the country, with no means of communication with him as with one another, yet who all have been used to look up to him as a guide. These people have a claim upon him; he has witnessed to the world, and they have received his witness; he has taught, and they have striven to be obedient pupils. He has formed their minds, not accidentally; he has sought to do so, and he has succeeded. He has undertaken the charge, and cannot now shake them off. His words have been spoken in vain to many, but not to them. He has been the means, under Providence, of making them what they are. Each might have gone his separate way but for him. To them his voluntary resignation of ministerial duties will be a severe blow. If he was silenced, the blame would rest with others; but giving them up of his own free will, they will have a sense of abandonment and desertion. There is something sad enough and discouraging enough in being shunned and eyed with distrust by neighbours, friends, and clergy; but whilst we have had someone to confide in, to receive instruction from, this has been borne easily. A sound from Littlemore and St. Mary’s seems to reach us even here, and has given comfort on many a dreary day; but when the voice ceases, even the words it has already spoken, will lose some of their power; we shall have sad thoughts as we read them. Such was our guide, but he has left us to seek our own path; our champion has deserted us; our watchman, whose cry used to cheer us up, is heard no more.”[1]

When Newman finished reading this letter, tears came to his eyes. He suffered tortures from the consciousness of the sorrow he was thus involuntarily bringing to souls who trusted him. In his reply to his sister, his “Dearest Jemima,” couched in as affectionate terms as ever, he begs her to trust the motives which direct his course. To his other sister, Mrs. Thomas Mozley, he writes: “I amso drawn to the Church of Rome, that I think it safer, as a matter of honesty, not to keep my living . . . I could not without hypocrisy profess myself any longer a “teacher” and a “champion” for our Church . . . My dear Harriet, you must learn patience, so must we all, and resignation to the will of God.”

On September 25, 1843, he bade a tearful farewell to his Anglican congregation at Littlemore. The little church was adorned with flowers in honour of the seventh anniversary of its consecration. There, too, was the tomb of his mother, and on it the flowers were heaped high. As Newman ascended the pulpit an attitude of tension prevailed, the members sensing that an announcement fraught large with meaning for the future would be forthcoming. Taking as his theme, “The Parting of Friends,” he spoke slowly in a low voice, passing in review the scenes of separation depicted in the Bible, dwelling at some length upon that of David and Jonathan. His many pauses, the pathos in his voice, told of the anguish in his soul struggling for expression. He ended with the touching plea for the prayers of his people that he might know God’s will and do it.

“O my brethren,” he said, “O kind and affectionate hearts, O loving friends, should you know any one whose lot it has been, by writing or by word of mouth, in some degree to help you thus to act; if he has ever told you what you knew about yourselves, or what you did not know; has read to you your wants or feelings, and comforted you by the very reading; has made you feel that there was a higher life than this daily one, and a brighter world than that you see; or encouraged you, or sobered you, or opened a way to the inquiring, or soothed the perplexed; if what he has said or done has ever made you take interest in him, and feel well inclined toward him; remember such a one in time to come, though you hear him not, and pray for him, that in all things he may know God’s will, and at all times he may be ready to fulfill it.”[2]

Tears were in the eyes of all. Descending the pulpit, Newman received Communion and withdrew. Pusey completed the services, struggling to suppress the tears that interrupted his reading. All left Littlemore with a clear feeling that the whole of a mighty past was definitely closed. “I am just returned, half broken-hearted,” wrote Pusey, from the commemoration at Littlemore; the sermon was like one of Newman’s. . . . People sobbed visibly. . . . If our Bishops did but know what faithful hearts, devoted to our Lord and the service of His Church, they are breaking.”[3]

The agitation arous ed by Newman’s farewell sermon was as great at Oxford as at Littlemore. Writing twenty-five years later, Principal Shairp still felt, after “an interval of twenty-five years, how vividly comes back the remembrance of the aching blank, the awful pause, which fell on Oxford, when that voice had ceased, and we knew that we should hear it no more. It was as when, to one kneeling by night, in the silence of some vast cathedral, the great bell tolling solemnly overhead has suddenly gone still.”[4] There was a widespread feeling that his resignation was but the prelude to his secession, and everybody realized what a staggering blow this would be for the Church of England. “I stagger to and fro like a drunken man, and am at my wit’s end,” wrote Gladstone to Manning. Describing the impact of this news upon the intellectual world at Oxford, Stanley says: “No one asked about it in public, but everyone rushed to and fro to ask in private. . . . To anyone who has been accustomed to look upon Arnold and Newman as “the” two great men of the Church of England, the death of the one and the secession of the other could not but look ominous, like the rattle of departing chariots that was heard on the eve of the downfall of the Temple of Jerusalem.”[5]

While Newman had lost faith completely in the Apostolical character of the Anglican Church, he was not yet fully convinced that the Church of Rome was the true Church. He did not wish to act on mere probabilities but desired complete certainty. “My difficulty was this,” he wrote later: “I had been deceived greatly once; how could I be sure that I was not deceived a second time? . . . What test had I, that I should not change again, after that I had become a Catholic? I had still apprehension of this, though I thought a time would comewhen it would depart.”

NEWMAN DRAWS NEARER

For two years Newman waited, praying and searching for the light, seeking to pass from probability to certainty. Some have been surprised at this long delay and have been critical of it. But they can be answered with Newman echoing the voice of St. Augustine: “Let those make use of severity who are not acquainted with the difficulties of distinguishing error from truth, and in finding the true way of life amidst the illusions of the world.” Newman’s habit of viewing both sides of a question, weighing the pros against the cons on the scales of logic, further slowed his reaching a definite conclusion. Since his decision would exercise such a profound influence upon those who looked to him for guidance, he felt it doubly necessary to exhaust all means of resistance before surrendering. Indeed nothing in Newman’s life throws into clearer relief the profound sincerity of the man, his unwillingness to act on mere sentiment, his painstaking solicitude for truth, than the protracted inquiry he conducted at Littlemore before taking the final step. Who can fail to admire the transparent honesty of this earnest soul, struggling to dissipate the darkness of uncertainty and to arrive not at the twilight of probability but at the bright light of certainty and truth before he would chart his course upon the troubled waters of the future?

On the one hand were the associations of a lifetime, the pleadings of his sisters, the esteem of his colleagues at Oxford, the reverent affection of the younger men, and the promise of advancement in the Church of his birth. On the other hand was the alien communion of Rome, in which he had few acquaintances and scarcely any friends. His contact with the Catholic clergy had been practically nil. He knew the deep-seated prejudices of the British people against “Romanism,” and the social and intellectual ostracism which they tended from long custom to inflict upon its members. His concern, however, was not for a crown with the honors it would bring, but for the truth even though it bring him a cross with shame and ignominy. His prayer was for light to see the truth and courage to follow wherever it might lead, even though it lead him through strange and lonely ways, where his feet never before had trod. Like St. Augustine, who after his conversion in the garden at Milan, remained at his retreat at Cassisiacum for almost a year, preparing himself by prayer and discipline for his baptism and Holy Communion, Newman remained at Littlemore, increasing his austerities and redoubling his prayers. “Lord, that I may see!” was his daily prayer.

Ward and some others had preceded him into the Church of Rome, but still Newman deliberated, awaiting the result of the working of his conscience and of his prayers for light. That he realized what the contemplated step would cost him is evident from a letter he wrote to his sister on March 15, 1845: “I have a good name with many: I am deliberately sacrificing it. I have a bad name with more: I am fulfilling all their worst wishes, and giving them their most coveted triumph. I am distressing all I love, unsettling all I have instructed or aided. I am going to those whom I do not know, and of whom I expect very little. I am making myself an outcast, and that at my age-oh! what can it be but a stern necessity which causes this?”[6]

Meanwhile, Wiseman, puzzled at the long delay, decided to send Father Bernard Smith, a convert and an old friend of Newman’s, to Littlemore to note the lay of the land. Newman received him with marked coldness. But the vigilant eyes of Father Smith did not fail to note one telltale detail. Newman dined in gray trousers. To Father Smith, who knew Newman’s punctiliousness in the matter of dress, this was evidence that he no longer regarded himself as a clergyman. But the end was not yet. “There was a pause,” says Dean Church. “It was no secret what was coming. But men lingered. It was not till the summer that the first drops of the storm began to fall. Then through the autumn and the next year, friends whose names and forms were familiar in Oxford, one by one disappeared, and were lost to it. . . . We sat glumly at our breakfasts every morning, and then someone came in with news of something disagreeablesomeone gone, someone sure to go.”

NEWMAN SURRENDERS!

The community at Littlemore waited and waited for their leader to give the signal. At last the end of the long vigil of prayer and deliberation came-simply and quietly, without pomp or melodrama. Newman learned that a Passionist priest would be passing through Oxford on the evening of October 8, 1845, and he sent Father Dalgairns to meet him. “At that time,” writes Father Dalgairns, “all of us except St. John, though we did not doubt that Newman would become a Catholic, were anxious and ignorant of his intentions in detail. About three o‘clock I went to take my hat and stick and walk across the fields to the Oxford “Angel,” where the coach stopped. As I was taking my stick Newman said to me in a very low and quiet tone: “When you see your friend, will you tell him that I wish him to receive me into the Church of Christ?” I said: “Yes,” and no more. I told Father Dominic as he was dismounting from the top of the coach. He said: “God be praised,” and neither of us spoke again till we reached Littlemore.”

On October 9, Newman made his profession of faith and received conditional baptism. The following morning, along with Dalgairns, St. John, Stanton and Bowles, he received Holy Communion from the hands of Father Dominic.

The news of Newman’s entry into the Catholic Church aroused intense excitement. “It is impossible,” says Mark Pattison, “to describe the enormous effect produced in the academical and clerical world, I may say throughout England, by one man’s changing his religion.”[7] Gladstone, the prime minister declared:

“I regard Newman’s secession as an event as unexampled as an epoch.”[8] Later Disraeli, another prime minister, declared “that this conversion had dealt a blow to England from which she yet reeled.” Following in Newman’s steps came Oakeley, Faber, and a long line of clergymen and Oxford graduates, numbering more than three hundred. “Nothing similar,” says Thureau-Dangin, “had been seen since the Reformation.” The procession, started by Newman, has never stopped. Continuing into our own day, it has brought more than fourteen hundred Anglican clergymen into the Catholic Church. The step cost Newman dearly-his position, his friends, even his family. Did he regret the step later on, as some writers have sought to imply? Twenty years later, at a time when he had reason to complain of the tactics used against him by some of his coreligionists, he openly testified to “the perfect peace and contentment that he had enjoyed since his conversion.” He declared “that he had never had one doubt,” and that “it was like coming into port after a rough sea; and my happiness on that score remains to this day without interruption.”

THE CHURCH’S RENAISSANCE IN ENGLAND

NEWMAN”S conversion divides a life of almost ninety years into equal parts, both filled with drama, struggle against odds, and achievement. In October, 1846, Newman went to Rome where he was ordained a priest and honored by the Pope with the degree of Doctor of Divinity. Pope Pius IX approved his plan of establishing in England the Oratory of St. Philip, a community of religious with simple vows, and in 1847 Newman set up the house at London, with Father Faber as superior, and later founded Oratories at Birmingham and Edgbaston. Here for almost forty years he remained as a recluse, going out occasionally for lectures, but spending most of his time in writing his matchless books, which have enriched all posterity with the genius of his thought.

His sermon, “The Second Spring,” delivered at the Synod of Oscott, is a masterpiece of rare and delicate beauty, which Macaulay learned by heart. His “Lectures on the Present Position of Catholics in England” abounds in passages of lively humour, rich imagination, and delicate beauty which held George Eliot in thralldom. “When Newman made up his mind to join the Church of Rome,” observes R. H. Hutton, “his genius boomed out with a force and freedom such as it never displayed in the Anglican community. . . . In irony, in humour, in eloquence, in imaginative force, the writings of the later, and as we may call it, the emancipated portion of his career far surpass the writings of his theological apprenticeship.”

In 1854, Newman went at the request of the Irish bishops to Dublin, as Rector of the newly-established Catholic university. Practical difficulties beset the undertaking and after four years Newman retired. The most valuable outcome of this enterprise was his volume of lectures entitled “Idea of a University,” which has remained as the classic in this field from the day it first appeared. The following passage illustrates its graceful ease of diction and its pregnancy of thought:

“That training of the intellect, which is best for the individual himself, best enables him to discharge his duties to society. The Philosopher, indeed, and the man of the world differ in their very notion, but the methods, by which they are respectively formed, are pretty much the same. The Philosopher has the same command of matters of thought, which the true citizen and gentleman has of matters of business and conduct. If then a practical end must be assigned to a University course, I say it is that of training good members of society. Its art is the art of social life, and its end is fitness for the world.

“It neither confines its views to particular professions on the one hand, nor creates heroes or inspires genius on the other. Works indeed of genius fall under no art; heroic minds come under no rule; a University is not a birthplace of poets or of immortal authors, of founders of schools, leaders of colonies, or conquerors of nations. It does not promise a generation of Aristotles or Newtons, of Napoleons or Washingtons, of Raphaels or Shakespeares, though such miracles of nature it has before now contained within its precincts. Nor is it content on the other hand with forming the critic or the experimentalist, the economist or the engineer, though such too it includes within its scope. But a University training is the great ordinary means to a great but ordinary end; it aims at raising the intellectual tone of society, at cultivating the public mind, at purifying the national taste, at supplying true principles to popular enthusiasm and fixed aims to popular aspiration, at giving enlargement and sobriety to the ideas of the age, at facilitating the exercise of political power, and refining the intercourse of private life.

“It is the education which gives a man a clear conscious view of his own opinions and judgments, a truth in developing them, an eloquence in expressing them, and a force in urging them. It teaches him to see things as they are, to go right to the point, to disentangle a skein of thought, to detect what is sophistical, and to discard what is irrelevant.”

DUEL WITH KINGSLEY

Since 1841 Newman had been under a cloud, “sub luce maligna,” as far as concerned the great masses of cultivated Englishmen who never could bring themselves to understand how such a gifted mind could take the step he did. Conscious of the suspicion with which he was viewed, Newman had begun in 1842 to gather biographical and other memoranda waiting for the opportunity to vindicate his career. The occasion was offered him by Charles Kingsley, a novelist of note, who in reviewing Froude’s “History of England” in “Macmillan’s Magazine” for January, 1864, incidentally asserted:

“Truth for its own sake has never been a virtue with the Roman clergy. Father Newman informs us that it need not be, and on the whole ought not to be, that cunning is the weapon which Heaven has given to the Saints wherewith to withstand the brute male force of the world which marries and is given in marriage. Whether his notion is doctrinally correct or not, it is, at least, historically so.”

When Newman protested, Kingsley replied by referring to Newman’s sermon, “Wisdom and Innocence,” published in 1844, before Newman’s conversion. “It was in consequence of this sermon,” he wrote, “that I finally shook off the strong influence which your writings exerted on me, and for much of which I still owe you a deep debt of gratitude. I am most happy to hear from you that I mistook your meaning; and I shall be most happy, on, showing me that I have wronged you, to retract any accusation as publicly as I have made it.”

In response to a further letterKingsley remarked that he liked the tone of Newman’s letter, and in his proposed apology expressed his “hearty pleasure” at finding Newman “on the side of truth in this or any other matter.” Newman objected to this as well as to the no less ambiguous remark that “no man knows the meaning of words better than Dr. Newman.” Kingsley refused to do more, maintaining that he had done as much as one English gentleman could expect from another. Exasperated beyond measure, Newman felt that the only manner in which he could secure redress was by publishing the correspondence, thus submitting the controversy to the fairness of the British public. The result was a masterpiece of controversial irony, unsurpassed in the English language for the vigour of its biting satire.

“Mr. Kingsley,” Newman wrote, “begins by exclaiming: “Oh, Oh, the chicanery, the wholesale fraud, the vile hypocrisy, the consciencekilling tyranny of Rome! We have not far to seek for evidence of it! There’s Father Newman to wit; one living specimen is worth a hundred dead ones. He, a priest, writing of priests, tells us that lying is never any harm.” I interpose, “You are taking a most extraordinary liberty with my name. If I said this, tell me when and where.” Mr. Kingsley replies: “You said it, reverend sir, in a sermon which you preached when a Protestant, as Vicar of St. Mary’s, and published in 1844, and I could read you a very salutary lecture on the effects which that sermon had at the time on my own opinion of you.” I make answer: “Oh . . .”not,” it seems, as a priest speaking of priests; but let us have the passage.”

“Mr. Kingsley relaxes: “Do you know, I like your “tone.” From your “tone” I rejoice-greatly rejoice-to be able to believe that you did not mean what you said.” I rejoin: ““Mean” it! I maintain I never “said” it, whether as a Protestant or as a Catholic!” Mr. Kingsley replies: “I waive that point.” I object: “Is it possible? What! Waive the main question? I either said it or I didn’t. You have made a monstrous charge against me-direct, distinct, public; you are bound to prove it as directly, as distinctly, as publicly, or to own you can’t!” “Well,” says Mr. Kingsley, “if you are quite sure you did not say it, I”11 take your word for it-I really will.” “My word!” I am dumb. Somehow, I thought that it was my “word” that happened to be on trial. The “word” of a professor of lying that he does not lie! But Mr. Kingsley reassures me. “We are both gentlemen,” he says. “I have done as much as one English gentleman can expect from another.” I begin to see: he thought me a gentleman at the very time that he said I taught lying on system. After all it is not I, but it is Mr. Kingsley who did not mean what he said.”

Kingsley would have done well to have escaped as quickly as possible from an untenable position. Newman was the last man in England who could be charged with insincerity. In his quest for truth he had sacrificed more than any man in the Church of England and had received in return an obscure post in an alien communion. Uncompromising in his loyalty to the truth, he should have been the last man for Kingsley to choose for his cruel and unjust attack. “But Kingsley,” as Arnold Lunn well observes, “was as incapable of understanding Newman’s subtle and complex mind as a prize-fighter ofgrasping the Einstein theory.” Foolishly persisting in this attack, he wrote a pamphlet, “What then does Dr. Newman mean”? It was a rehash of all the familiar anti-Roman charges now worn threadbare. Again he gave Newman a splendid opportunity.

Newman seized it to vindicate not only his own career but his espoused faith, which was now assailed. The result was the “Apologia,” the simple confidential tone of which “revolutionized the popular estimate of its author.” Written as a series of fortnightly articles, it achieved an instant success. Newman appealed to the fairness of the British public to decide the merits of the controversy. And not in vain. For with all their ingrained prejudices against Romanism, the essential fairness of the English public and their fine sense of sportsmanship enabled them to appreciate the superior logic of Newman’s reasoning and the greater deftness of his controversial strokes. He gained a smashing victory among all classes.

They applauded the honesty and courage of a man who, splashed with slander and abuse by an opponent who then sought to withdraw, pursued him until his honour and truthfulness were vindicated beyond all cavil. The “Apologia” was written under the stress of great emotion and at a furious speed. Newman wrote sometimes for twenty hours at a stretch. In consequence, as literature it is uneven. But in spite of the speed with which it was ground out, it is permeated with a deep earnestness which echoes even between the lines, and is aglow with an irrepressible passion to vindicate the truth. In none of his other works do the character, personality and forthrightness of the author shine forth more luminously.

“No finer triumph of talent in the service of conscience,” says William Barry, “has been put on record. From that day the Catholic religion may date its re-entrance into the national literature. Instead of arid polemics and technical arguments, a living soul had revealed in its journey toward the old faith wherein lay the charm that drew it on. Reality became more fascinating than romance, the problem which staggered Protestants and modern minds-how to reconcile individual genius with tradition, private judgment with authority-was resolved in Newman’s great example.” The place of the “Apologia” among the great masterpieces of autobiographical writing is secure.

HIS WRITINGS

Amidst the acclamations of Catholics and non-Catholics alike, Newman turned now to the formulation of the philosophy which would justify his action. He began “The Grammar of Assent,” the most closely reasoned of all his works. In it the author avoids abstractions and metaphysics and focuses attention upon the problem of concrete affirmation, its motives, and its relation to the personality of the individual. Hitherto interest had been centred on the objective grounds for assent, while the subjective or psychological steps leading to the affirmation remained largely unexplored. The author brought to the problem a penetrating insight into the workings of the human mind and heart, a rare capacity for subtle analysis, and a vast amount of experience in examining and analyzing the psychological factors which lead to a decision of the will. Without sacrificing the rights of pure logic, Newman restores the will to its rightful place and emphasizes the influence of the moral resonance of the individual’s character in providing that proper disposition, that “pia credulitas,” which is a prerequisite to the act of faith. In short, assent is not a mere mechanical echo of the syllogism, but a distinct psychological act in which the will and the moral reasonance of the individual play vital and important parts.

In common with Kant, Newman considered the witness of conscience, “the categorical imperative,” among the supreme evidences of a Deity both immanent in the universe and yet transcending it. He states that it would be easier for him to doubt his own existence than the existence of “Him who lives as an All-seeing, All-judging Being in my conscience.” Conscience was to him, as Barry observes, the inward revelation of God, Catholicism was the external and objective one. He held that the reason by which men guide themselves is “implicit” rather than “explicit,” and stressed the need of varied and converging proofs. The work served as a sequel and a crown to the “Development of Doctrine” and completes the author’s philosophy. It was composed with painstaking care, some portions of it being written ten times, and it abounds in passages of psychological penetration, deft analysis, and logical power.

In “Christianity and Scientific Investigation,” Newman developed the thesis that theology was a deductive science, while physics and the other natural sciences were inductive. Hence there could be no real collisions between these two bodies of knowledge. They moved in essentially different orbits, and the appearance of conflict only would occur from the scientist invading the domain of theology or the theologian trespassing upon the territory of science. He thus sought to provide a concordat which would prevent a recurrence of the Galileo imbroglio.

Some of the friends of Newman belong to a type known in history as “Liberal Catholics,” though the term has never found a hospitable welcome in the Church. In 1864 he wrote of Montalembert and Lacordaire: “In their general line ofthought and conduct I enthusiastically concur and consider them to be before their age.” He speaks of “the unselfish aims, the thwarted projects, the unrequited toils, the grand and tender resignation of Lacordaire”-a description which might well be applied to himself. It will be recalled that on his deathbed Lacordaire said: “I die a repentant Christian but an unrepentant Liberal.”

In many of his lectures Newman stressed the inadequacy of knowledge alone to provide the motive power for action in the faceof passion and habit. “Carve the granite with a razor,” he wrote, “moor the vessel with a thread of silk, then you may hope with such keen and delicate instruments as human knowledge and human reason to contend against those giants, the passions and the pride of men.” Will power, strength of character, and those driving forces which spring from deep religious convictions are necessary to hold to its charted course the human bark tossed about on the turbulent seas of angry passions.

In the midst of inner travail and suffering that came from the blighting of his cherished hopes, Newman was accustomed to turn to the writing of poetry in which he found relief. “The Dream of Gerontius” is the most beautiful of his poems, and is indeed a masterpiece of nineteenth century English poetry. Unlike the composition of his philosophical works which occasioned always the pains of travail, the writing of his poetry was done with ease. Thus he wrote “The Dream of Gerontius” with a facility which called for scarcely any erasures. When completed, he attached so little importance to it that he threw it into the waste-paper basket, where it would have been lost forever had not a friend chanced to come upon it and prevailed upon Newman to publish it anonymously. It met with instant success and has continued to grow in popularity. Later it was made the subject of an oratorio by a distinguished musician.

In this poem the author seeks to penetrate the veil that cloaks the mystery of the soul’s adventuring immediately after death when it finds itself midway between time and eternity. He follows the soul into Purgatory and describes the scenes of the other world, peopled with angels and demons, with a grandeur of imagery that reminds one of Dante but is more detached from earthly influences and more wrapt in the contemplation of the spiritual. Newman was much touched when he learned toward the close of his life of the refreshment of spirit which Gordon had found in it when shut up at Khartoum and preparing to sacrifice his life for hiscountry’s cause. He kept his heroic death vigil, reading this poem and scoring with pencil lines the passages which most appealed to him.

To Newman, poetry was not only an outlet for the emotions but it was a means of disciplining and chastening them as well. To his sensitive soul, much of the ceremony and ritual, the processions, vestments and shrines of the Catholic Church were suffused with poetry. The one was poetry in action, the other was poetry crystallized in art.

“Poetry,” he said, “is a method of relieving the over-burdened mind; it is a channel through which emotion finds expression, and that a safe, regulated expression. Now what is the Catholic Church, viewed in her human aspect, but a discipline of the affections and passions? What are her ordinances and practices but the regulated expression of keen, or deep, or turbid feeling, and thus a “cleansing,” as Aristotle would word it, of the sick soul?

“She is the poet of her children; full of music to soothe the sad and control the wayward,-wonderful in story for the imagination of the romantic; rich in symbol and imagery, so that gentle and delicate feelings, which will not bear words, may in silence intimate their presence or commune with themselves. Her very being is poetry; every psalm, every petition, every collect, every versicle, the cross, the mitre, the thurible, is a fulfilment of some dream of childhood or aspiration of youth. Such poets as are born under her shadow, she takes into her service; she sets them to write hymns, or to compose chants, or to embellish shrines, or to determine ceremonies, or to marshal processions; nay, she can even make schoolmen of them, as she made St. Thomas, till logic becomes poetical.”[9]

NEWMAN”S DISCERNMENT

It is part of the tragedy of Newman’s life that after having made so costly a sacrifice to follow the conviction of his conscience, he was looked at askance by so many of his former Anglican friends, and on the other side by many of the “old” Catholics. He regarded the tendency of certain other converts, such as Manning, now archbishop of Westminster, W. G. Ward, editor of “The Dublin Review,” and F. W. Faber, head of the Oratory at London, to overstress the papal claims as more calculated to antagonize the British public than to attract them. Many of the converts were strong papalists, with pronounced inclinations to overstate the papal authority in both temporal and spiritual matters.

Thus W. G. Ward would have relished immensely having a Papal Bull delivered each morning with “The Times.” He wanted the Pope to decide every question that arose, and seemed to look forward with impatience to the day when the Pope would be issuing Bulls on every subject. From such extremes Newman’s delicate soul shrank in horror. While he respected the authority of the Pope and believed in his infallibility in matters of faith even before the dogma was formally proclaimed, he thought it wiser to stress the reasonableness of doctrine than merely to show its authoritativeness.

In his “Roman Converts,” Arnold Lunn terms him a “minimizer,” as Talbot did before him. But this is scarcely accurate. A “realizer” would be a better term. For it was because of his keen realization of the temper and prejudices of the British mind of his day that he endeavoured to soften the needlessly harsh statement of certain Roman doctrines which Ward, Faber and others were frequently making. Understanding from his own experience as an Anglican divine how certain ultra-Romanizing tendencies were inclined to grate on British sensitivities, none too friendly even to the restrained statement of Roman claims, he sought to avoid any unnecessary waving of the red flag before the British bull.

An instance in point is the language used by Cardinal Wiseman in his Pastoral announcing the reestablishment of the regular hierarchy in England with himself as Primate. Writing from the Catholic atmosphere of Rome, the newly appointed Cardinal seems to have forgotten momentarily the anti-Roman prejudices of the British public, and addressing his letter from “without the Flaminian gate,” declares: “Till such time as the Holy See shall think fit otherwise to provide, we shall govern and continue to govern the counties of Middlesex, Hertford and Essex as ordinary therefore with the islands annexed as administrators with ordinary powers.”

A storm of indignant protest followed. “John Bull” snorted. He wrote to “The Times” explaining that he’d see Wiseman damned before Wiseman governed as ordinary or as extraordinary a yard of British soil.” Even the Prime Minister, Lord John Russell, joined in the hue and cry. The “No popery” campaign was in full swing again. Why? Because of a needlessly arrogant and haughty manner of stating a simple fact, unobjectionable in itself. Because of a complete lack of delicacy in dealing with latent anti-Roman prejudices, which with a discerning and tactful statement would have remained dormant, but which were jolted into furious activity by the bombastic and domineering language used. Because Newman had a profound understanding of the British mind and knew its sensitive spots, he opposed all his life the needlessly harsh statement of doctrine, Roman claims and viewpoints which Manning, Talbot, Ward and others seemed bent on using.

Another illustration is the statement of the doctrine, “Extra ecclesiam nulla salus”-no salvation outside the Church. This has been stated at times with such harshness and brutality as to be positively repellent. But when the inner heart of the doctrine is reached, it is found to embody the simple and unobjectionable truth that every human being who acts in accordance with the light of his own conscience is within the soul of the Church and may enter into eternal life. Newman did not believe anything was to be gained by the needlessly harsh and unpalatable statement of a doctrine. In the language of our day, he did not believe in rubbing the fur the wrong way-at least not needlessly. In a letter to Phillips-de Lisle in 1848, he wrote: “It is no new thing with me to feel little sympathy with parties, or extreme opinions of any kind.” He did not approve of attenuating that which is true, but in setting down nothing in malice.

Manning thought he was transplanting the “Oxford tone into the Church,” while Ward used harsher language. But when the hue and cry broke out against the formal proclamation of the dogma of Papal Infallibility by the Vatican Council in 1870, it was Newman who came to its defence, and whose presentation more than any of the ultrapapalists, told with the British public. He had previously opposed the definition as untimely, but when Gladstone, the Prime Minister, accused the Catholic Church of having “equally repudiated modern thought and ancient history,” Newman sprang to her defence. In a letter nominally addressed to the Duke of Norfolk, he gave a masterly vindication of the rights of conscience and showed the harmonious roles which authority and reason play in the formulation of the verdict of the individual conscience. Probably no other writer in England or elsewhere has so stressed the important role which conscience plays in the spiritual life and no one has laid greater emphasis upon its finality as the court of last appeal. Passages concerning it abound in practically all his works.

“What is the main guide of the soul,” he asks, “given to the whole race of Adam, outside the true fold of Christ as well as within it, given from the first dawn of reason, given to it in spite of that grievous penalty of ignorance which is one of the chief miseries of our fallen state? It is the light of conscience, “the true Light,” as the Evangelist says, “which lighteth every man that cometh into the world.” Whether a man be born in pagan darkness, or in some corruption of revealed religion; whether he has heard the name of the Saviour of the world or not; whether he be the slave of some superstition, or is in possession of some portions of Scripture, in any case, he has within his breast a certain commanding dictate, not a mere sentiment, not a mere opinion, or impression, or view of things, but a law, an authoritative voice, bidding him do certain things and avoid others. It is more than a man’s self. The man himself has not power over it, or only with extreme difficulty; he did not make it, he cannot destroy it. He may silence it in particular cases or directions; he may distort its enunciations; but he cannot-or it is quite the exception if he can-he cannot emancipate himself from it. He can disobey it, he may refuse to use it; but it remains.

“This is Conscience; and, from the nature of the case, its very existence carries on our minds to a being exterior to ourselves; else, whence its strange, troublesome peremptoriness? I say its very existence throws us out of ourselves, and beyond ourselves, to go and seek for Him in the height and depth, whose voice it is. As the sunshine implies that the sun is in the heavens, though we may see it not; as a knocking at our doors at night implies the presence of one outside in the dark who asks for admittance, so this Word within us necessarily raises our minds to the idea of a Teacher, an unseen Teacher.”[10]

“ (Conscience) holds of God, and not of man, as an Angel walking on the earth would be no citizen or dependent of the Civil Power. Conscience is not a long-sighted selfishness, nor a desire to be consistent with oneself! but it is a messenger from Him, who, both in nature and in grace, speaks to us behind a veil, and teaches and rules us by His representatives. Conscience is the aboriginal Vicar of Christ, a prophet in its informations, a monarch in its peremptoriness, a priest in its blessings and anathemas, and, even though the eternal priesthood throughout the Church should cease to be, in it the sacerdotal principle would remain and would have a sway.[11]

It was not only in his writings that Newman paid homage to the thin small voice within, but in his life as well. He not only preached obedience to that inner voice, he practiced it. He bore eloquent testimony to his uncompromising loyalty to its whispering when in tears he descended from the pulpit at Littlemore and turned his back upon his beloved Oxford. When later as a Catholic he found himself frequently put in an unfavourable light before the officials at Rome, he scorned the slightest approximation to toadyism, engaging in no flattery or sycophancy, but relied solely upon the testimony of an approving conscience.

This trait in his character is illustrated in a reply he wrote to Monsignor Talbot. The younger son of Lord Talbot of Malahide, he had entered the Church in 1847, had become the Pope’s chamberlain and the trusted agent of Manning in Rome. As such he had used his strategic influence to thwart Newman in many ways. After the great success of “Apologia,” however, he relented to the extent of inviting the Oratorian to Rome. He reminded him that he would “derive great benefit from revisiting Rome and showing himself to the Ecclesiastical authorities” and pointed out that as a preacher he would enjoy at Rome “a more educated audience of Protestants than could ever be the case in England.” What a tempting opportunity to curry favour he was dangling before Newman’s eyes.

Did Newman rush to accept? He sent the following reply:

“Dear Monsignor Talbot, I have received your letter inviting me to preach in your church at Rome to an audience of Protestants more educated than could ever be the case in England. However, Birmingham people have souls, and I have neither the taste nor the talent for the sort of work which you have cut out for me. And I beg to decline your offer.

“I am, yours truly,

“JOHN H. NEWMAN.”

In this brief note the character of the Oratorian, devoid of obsequiousness and utterly lacking any tendency to buckle, stands plainly revealed. He might have saved himself many a jolt if he had stooped to curry favour, but it simply was not in his make-up. He was to learn from bitter experience that manly independence and a scorn for the arts of the sycophant offer no passport to preferment in a world where climbing and crawling are performed in much the same attitude. But he held to it to the bitter end. Then, strangely enough, when he least expected it, recognition, glorious, overwhelming, world wide, came to him.

It was this trait in Newman’s character which compelled even Dean Inge, who wastes no affection upon the Catholic Church, to pay tribute. “Newman’s confidence toward God,” he writes, “rested on an unclouded faith in the Divine guidance, and on a very just estimate of the worthlessness of contemporary praise and blame. There have been very few men who have been able to combine so strong a faith with a thorough distrust of both logic-chopping and emotional excitement, and who, while denying themselves these aids to conviction, have been able to say, calmly and without petulance, that with them it is a very small thing to be judged of man’s judgment.”

Newman was simply practicing what he had preached in one of his sermons. “What,” he asks, “can increase their peace who believe and trust in the Son of God? Shall we add a drop to the ocean, or grains to the sand of the sea? We pay indeed our superiors full reverence, and with cheerfulness as unto the Lord; and we honour eminent talents as deserving admiration and reward; and the more readily act we thus, because these are little things to pay.”[12] Such unworldliness as this, observes R. H. Hutton in words singularly well chosen, “stands out in strange and almost majestic contrast to the eager turmoil of confused passions, hesitating ideals, tentative virtues, and groping philanthropies, amidst which it was lived.”

III. THE TRIUMPH OF FAILURE

NEWMAN engaged in a number of projects of great promise, which because of circumstances over which he had no control, failed to materialize. We have already seen how his valiant effort to found a great National University in Ire! land failed because of lack of organized support of the Irish Bishops. Another project which stirred his enthusiasm and seemed rich in promise was a new translation of the Bible which Cardinal Wiseman had induced him to undertake. The Douay Bible, while a great improvement on the Rheims, edition lacks the dignity and charm of the Authorized Version. No one realized this more painfully than Newman, whose ear was delicately attuned to its harmonies and whose style was so largely influenced by its chaste cadences. If there was any one man in the Englishspeaking world who was superbly gifted to turn out a masterpiece of simple beauty and dignity it was Newman.

Friends who heard about it were elated. Newman threw himself into the enterprise with unbounded energy. He enlisted contributors and was already at work, when alas, obstacles again appeared. Booksellers and publishers with a large stock of the Douay Bible launched vigorous protest. Wiseman yielded. And again one of Newman’s great undertakings died aborning. What a priceless loss for the English-speaking world! Who can calculate the far-reaching influence of the inspired Word expressed in Newman’s sentences of stately majesty and simple beauty, cadences which would live in the memory and keep ever fresh their precious cargoes of eternal truth? In many respects this would appear to be one of the most tragic frustrations of all of Newman’s great undertakings. To him may be applied the phrase which Horace wrote about Daedalus seeking to fly to the heights of heaven on the wings of Icarus:

“Si non tenuit, tamen magnis excidit ausis.”-Even though he succeeded not, he failed in daring and noble attempts.

Another enterprise which augured much was his acceptance of the editorship of “The Rambler.” This was a journal conducted by an able group of laymen, of whom Lord Acton, the historian, was one. Newman had been prevailed upon by Cardinal Wiseman to assume the editorship with a view of directing its policy. But the ill-fortune which attended his many other efforts to serve the Church of his adoption pursued him here. An article which he contributed, “On Consulting the Laity in Matters of Doctrine,” was deleted to Rome by Bishop Brown of Newport, who denounced it as heretical. There was some talk of summoning Newman himself to Rome. That it stirred him deeply is evident from the following: “Call me to Rome-what does that mean? It means to sever an old man from his home, to subject him to intercourse with persons whose languages are strange to him-to food, and to fashions, which are almost starvation on one hand, and oblige him to dance attendance on Propaganda week after week, and month after month- it means death. This is the prospect which I cannot but feel probable, did I say anything, which one bishop in England chose to speak against and report. Others have been killed before me. Lucas went of his own accord indeed, but when he got there-oh! how much did he, as loyal a son of the Church and Holy See as ever was, what did he suffer because Dr. Cullen was against him? He wandered, as Dr. Cullen “said” in a letter he published in a sort of triumph, he wandered from Church to Church without a friend, and hardly got an audience from the Pope. And I too should go from St. Philip to Our Lady, and to St. Peter and St. Paul, and to St. Laurence and to St. Cecilia, and if it happened to me, as to Lucas, should come back to die.”

Newman resigned from the editorship. This was in 1859, after a mere two months of incumbency.

Wilfrid Ward, his biographer, regards the following five years as the saddest in Newman’s life. The Oratorian chafed under the restraint placed upon him. He craved greater freedom to express himself without being pounced upon by the authorities. He contrasted sadly the present restraint with the magnificent freedom which characterized the great intellectual periods of the Church’s past-a freedom without which the highest scholarship cannot thrive. He thought wistfully of the liberty which Thomas Aquinas, Peter Lombard, Alexander of Hales, Bonaventure and other intellectual giants of the Church enjoyed-the freedom to defend their theses in the open arena against all challengers, the freedom to clash and with sturdy blows to pound out on the anvil of controversy the nuggets of truth from the ore of speculation and theory.

In 1863 Newman wrote to Miss E. Bowles: “This age of the Church is peculiar. In former times there was not the extreme centralization now in use. If a private theologian said anything free, another answered him. If the controversy grew, then it went to a bishop. . . . The Holy See was but the court of ultimate appeal. “Now” if I as a private priest put anything into print, Propaganda answers me at once. How can I fight with such a chain on my arm? It is like the Persians driven to fight under the lash. There was true private judgment in the primitive and mediaeval schools-there are no schools now, no private judgment (in the religious sense of the phrase), no freedom, that is, of opinion. That is, no exercise of the intellect. No, the system goes on by the tradition of the intellect of former times.”

In explanation of the conditions then prevailing, it should be recalled that the Church in England had been in a state of siege for several centuries. Since the time of Henry VIII her monasteries had been confiscated, her schools and churches seized, her hierarchy suppressed, her clergy scattered and the overwhelming portion of her children torn from her by violence. At the beginning of the nineteenth century the Catholic population numbered only about 160,000,[13] and they were anxious only to be let alone. Neither priests nor people had any mood for controversy in the open arena. They were quite content to let sleeping dogs lie. Moreover the scenes of horror and bloodshed ushered in by the French Revolution were still fresh in the Church’s memory, while the rumblings of the approaching storm in Italy, portending the seizure of the Papal States, were being heard with an ominous frequency. The nerves of churchmen were jumpy and jittery. They had enough dangers to contend with, without inviting more from controversy on delicate and disturbing questions. Warfare, persecutions, states of siege, do not encourage speculative controversies and are not conducive to academic freedom. There have been few periods, either before or since, when the officials of the Church had such little relish for academic controversies as at Newman’s time.

THE PROJECT AT OXFORD

During all his life Newman retained a deep love for Oxford, the Alma Mater which had nurtured him with her best and had honoured him with an outpouring of reverence and affection which she had given to few, if any, of her other children. Among the many sacrifices which he made in entering the Church of Rome, few exacted heavier toll in heartthrobs and in tears than the resulting exile from the institution where he had dreamed his dreams, seen his visions, and hurled his defiance at the worldliness without, with all the high idealism of youth. When about to take the momentous step, he felt instinctively that it would mean a long farewell to the place that was dearest to him in all England and to the scenes that would live hereafter only in his memory. His foreboding proved all too true. But once again in almost fifty years, and that in graying age, did he set foot in Oxford, though occasionally from a distance he saw its storied spires.

Something of the sentiments tugging at his heartstrings when about to leave his Alma Mater he reveals to us in “Loss and Gain.” Herein he describes how the convert, Charles Reding-the pseudonym for himself-about to leave Oxford, “passed through Bagley wood, and the spires and towers of the University came to his view, hallowed by how many tender associations, lost to him for two whole years, suddenly recovered-recovered to be lost for ever! There lay old Oxford before him, with its hills as gentle and its meadows as green as ever. At the first view of that beloved place he stood still with folded arms, unable to proceed. Each college, each church, he counted them by their pinnacles and turrets. The silver Isis, the grey willows, the far-stretching plains, the dark groves, the distant range of Shotover, the pleasant village where he had lived with Carlton and Sheffield-wood, water, stone, all so calm, so bright, they might have been his, but his they were not. Whatever he was to gain by becoming a Catholic, this he had lost; whatever he was to gain higher and better, at least this and such as this he never could have again. He could not have another Oxford, he could not have the friends of his boyhood and youth in the choice of his manhood.”

With such deep attachment to Oxford, it was only natural that Newman should think of establishing a house of the Oratory there. In 1864 he set himself to achieve this goal. This he did with no pretence at deciding the controversy concerning the attendance of Catholics at Oxford, but merely with the thought that the students actually there should not be left without any of the ministrations of religion. This, he felt, was the surest way to lose them. But the opposition raised by Manning among the English bishops and among his friends at Rome thwarted the plan.

Newman’s Bishop, Dr. Ullathorne, keenly regretted this failure. A pious and zealous man, he was anxious to utilize Newman’s great talents for the cause of religion at Oxford. The hostility, tactless and unjust, directed against his ablest priest by high-placed ecclesiastics distressed him. In June, 1866, he reopened the matter, petitioning the Propaganda to permit the establishment of an Oratory at Oxford. Six months later he received a reply permitting the proposed foundation, but directing him to discountenance Dr. Newman’s taking up residence there. The Bishop not wishing to hurt Newman by telling him of the restriction, and thinking that he could remove it by personal representations, simply informed Newman that the plan had been accepted. Newman was enthusiastic. It looked as though his dream of many years of returning to his old Alma Mater to champion the religion which he had embraced was at last to be realized:

He believed that truth is its own defence, and though its spokesman be outnumbered, the odds are with it still. He had long felt that the policy of isolation from the great intellectual centre of English life was calculated only to lessen the little influence which Catholics were then exercising, and to render it even more negligible. They had the teachings of Christ, he reasoned, in their Apostolical purity. They had the great traditions of the Schoolmen. They had a masterly system of theology wrought out with marvellous consistency. Above all, they had the promise of the Holy Ghost to be with them all days. And while at certain times that Pentecostal fire seemed to be but smouldering, it never failed to blaze up ever and anon to manifest its undying character. Why not then go into this great stronghold of intellectual life, present her heritage of divine truth and welcome the fullest discussion from every quarter?

To Newman, it seemed almost to be lacking in faith to doubt the capacity of the truths of Christ and the Apostles to sustain themselves when placed fearlessly before the eyes and the minds of men. He opposed the policy of timid isolation. He scorned the shelter of the Ivory Tower. Like St. Paul going to the Acropolis to present the teaching of the Crucified to the scholars of Athens, Newman yearned to carry the Apostolic faith to the chief intellectual fortress of England, Oxford University. He was doubly elated at the prospect of returning under such circumstances to the campus upon which he had not set foot since the time he left it, as an outcast and an exile without kindred or abiding place, to join the alien communion of Rome more than a quarter of a century ago. With the permission of his Ordinary, Newman issued a circular, appealing for funds. The sum of £5,000 was quickly raised. A site was purchased. Newman packed his trunk and, sunshine on his face, talked of the approaching fulfillment of his dream.

But then the opposition broke. Broke from a double quarter. On the one hand, his old colleagues of Tractarian days, Keble and Pusey, who had remained within the Anglican Church, grew alarmed at the prospect of an invasion of Oxford by such a formidable representative of Rome. The memory of the influence Newman had exercised among the faculty and with the students, whose creed was “Credo in Newmannum,” was still with them. What devastation might he not work now as the spokesman of Rome? They sounded the tocsin, and a cry of protest sprang up from Anglican leaders at Oxford. On the other side, Manning, equally alarmed, led the opposition from within the Church. Rallying a number of the bishops behind him, he made representations through his agent, Monsignor Talbot at Rome, that Newman’s presence would draw many Catholic students to Oxford and would further engender “a certain Anglo- Catholicism” in which the English national spirit would prevail over the Roman or Catholic one.

Fighting desperately to stave off another of the many defeats which crowned his efforts to serve the Church he loved, Newman sent his faithful disciple, Ambrose St. John, to Rome, with precise instructions as to the answers which were to be made to the objections raised. He was to point out that, even though there was a danger of increasing the attendance, this would be more than counterbalanced by the advantage of an Oratory church, which would provide the ministrations of religion for students already there, who otherwise would be neglected. But all in vain. His fellowconvert, Manning, and, like himself, a former Oxford man, made his views prevail at Rome. The Propaganda directed Bishop Ullathorne to “take heed lest Dr. Newman should do anything which might favour in any way the presence of Catholics at the University.”

It was a great blow to Newman. It was all the more bitter because those who on the representations of his critics had decreed his exclusion, had never even taken the trouble to question him concerning his own views and plans. Still more was he cut to the quick when Cardinal Reisach, who came to collect information on the Oxford question, avoided an interview with him. What strange nemesis was dogging this man’s footsteps, mocking his high purposes, blighting his hopes, and dooming to ignominious failure his many valiant undertakings to serve the Church in as effective a manner as his intellect could devise? Strachey pictures him a forlorn figure, Manning and Talbot smiling in triumph, while Newman stands at the gate with his bag, packed all in vain, looking wistfully toward the spires of his beloved Oxford, from which he was bidden to remain an exile forever, weeping bitterly. Such would seem to be the usual verdict.

DID NEWMAN REALLY FAIL?

But did he really fail? Go to Oxford today and see. The music of his voice has died but the melody of his dream lingers on. Yes, it lingers on in abiding stone, in the impressive foundations established by the great religious Orders of the Church, in Campion Hall of the Jesuits, in St. Benet’s Hall of the Benedictines, in the House of the Salesians, in the Hall of the Franciscans, in the Hall of the Dominicans with the significant inscription over its portals, “After a long exile the sons of St. Dominichave returned!” Father Ronald Knox, the son of an Anglican bishop, ministers as Chaplain to the Catholic students. Black-robed Jesuits, brown-robed Franciscans, and white-robed Dominicans are in the lecture halls, laboratories and libraries. Father M. C.D”Arcy, S.J., holds the chair of ethics. Newman’s dream at long last has come true.

In the summer of 1925 the writer discussed with Cardinal Vaughan the work of the foundations at Oxford. A few years previous there was some agitation for the establishment of a National Catholic university. The Cardinal along with other leaders of the Church opposed the project as unwise. ““While I do not wish to speak about what is the best arrangement for other countries, where conditions are different,” said His Eminence, “I am certain that for the Church in England the establishments we have at Oxford and Cambridge offer the best facilities for Catholic higher education. They are the two great historic centres of intellectual life in England, and our hope is to utilize them more and more. To cut ourselves off from these two great universities, and to try to establish a university off by ourselves would be the height of folly, if not positively suicidal. The graduates of Oxford and Cambridge have the ear of the English public and are at least listened to with respect.”

“What effect does Oxford have upon the faith of the Catholic students?” inquired the writer. “Instead of weakening them,” replied the Cardinal, “we can say now on the basis of a long experience that with the provisions made for them, attendance at Oxford strengthens them. The graduates of Oxford are supplying the Church with a type of lay leadership which is of the highest to be found in any Catholic country in the world.” The remarkable growth which the Church in England has experienced in the last half century is attributable in no small degree to the sterling work of her lay apostolate, which has set an example for the Catholics of all other countries.

How happy would be the Church in any country to claim three such able apologists as Fathers Ronald Knox, C. C. Martindale, S.J., and M. C. D”Arcy, S.J.? That brilliant conversationalist, Arnold Lunn, clashed swords in debate with Father Knox, only to surrender his sword at last, and ask his erstwhile duelist to receive him into the Church which not long before had opened its hospitable arms to receive Knox himself. Well indeed might the old apologist for entering Oxford and using it for a divine purpose, instead of fleeing from it, Newman himself, have smiled as he looked down from the eternal hills upon this latest corroboration of the wisdom of his plan.

In America the scores of Newman Halls at State and secular Universities carrying on his plan, bid fair to give his ideas a vaster range and a universal currency, and to keep his memory ever fresh and green. “Principles,” said Newman, “will develop themselves beyond the arbitrary points of which you are so fond, and by which hitherto they have been limited, like prisoners on parole.” The growth of the Newman Club movement in England, America and throughout the world testifies to the truth of his prophetic utterance. Newman was thwarted, but his idea has prevailed.

The frustration of his many noble undertakings calculated to try the soul of the strongest man, Newman bore with a patience that was nothing short of heroic. Shortly after the thwarting of his Oxford project, a correspondent in Rome made an anonymous attack upon Newman’s orthodoxy in “The Weekly Register.” This was the spark which kindled into a flame the long smouldering indignation of the Catholic laity at the many unjust attacks made upon one of the noblest and holiest souls in the Church in England. A mass meeting of the laity was called. A testimonial, signed by two hundred of the most distinguished English Catholics, was presented to him. In it they served notice that “every blow that touched him inflicted a wound on the Catholic Church in England.” Newman was deeply touched. “The attacks of the opponents,” he replied, “are never hard to bear when the person who is the subject of them is conscious in himself that they are undeserved; but in the present instance I have small cause indeed for pain or regret at their occurrence, since they have at once elicited in my be half the warm feelings of so many dear friends who know me well, and of so many others whose good opinion is the more impartial for the very reason that I am not personally known to them. Of such men, whether friends or strangers to me, I would a hundred times rather receive the generous sympathy than have escaped the misrepresentations which are the occasion for showing it.”[14]

A LONG ROAD TURNS

There comes at last an end to everything. And an end to the series of disappointments which had crowned Newman’s undertakings had come. Likewise an end to the suspicions under which he had laboured for almost thirty years. This ostracism of a saintly genius had been due chiefly to his former friends, Manning, Ward, and Talbot. In 1877, Newman was elected an honorary Fellow of Trinity College, and in February of the following year, after an absence of thirty-two years, he returned to the Oxford whose spires only he had seen from a distance in the intervening years. Appearing in his University robes as the guest of the President of Trinity College, he was warmly applauded by the students and faculty.

In the same month, Pope Pius IX died, and Leo XIII, who had also lived in exile from the Curia since 1846, and who had learned from experience the meaning of Vergil’s phrase, “Haud ignora mali,” ascended the chair of Peter. The Duke of Norfolk and other Catholic peers approached Cardinal Manning about securing the honour of the cardinalate for Father Newman. Leo XIII had apparently already made up his mind to so honour Newman and readily acceded to theirrequest. A letter of the Cardinal Secretary of State announced to Newman “that the Holy Father, highly appreciating the genius and erudition which distinguished him, his piety, the zeal which he displayed in the exercise of the holy ministry, his devotion and filial attachment to the Holy Apostolic See, and the signal services he had for long years rendered to religion, had decided on giving him a public and solemn proof of his esteem and good will,” and that he would proclaim his elevation to the Sacred College in the next Consistory.

On May 12, 1879, he was created a Cardinal amidst the universal rejoicing of the British people, Catholic and nonCatholic alike. The event was without a parallel in modern times, as no simple priest without duties in the Roman Curia had been raised to the cardinalate. Congratulations poured in upon him from such distant countries as Australia, New Zealand, as well as from all parts of America. Newman received the exalted honour with simple dignity and with a complete absenceof personal vanity. “The cloud is lifted from me forever,” he said to his brothers of the Oratory.

“The Roman Church has been less unpopular in England,” observes Dean Inge, “since Newman received from it the highest honour which it can bestow. Throughout his career he was a steadfast witness against tepid and insincere professions of religion, and against any compromise with the shifting currents of popular opinion. All cultivated readers, who have formed their tastes on the masterpieces of good literature, are attracted, sometimes against their will, by the dignity and reserve of his style, qualities which belong to the man, and not only to the writer. Like Goethe, he disdains the facile arts which make the commonplace reader laugh and weep. “Ach die zartlichen Herzen! ein Pfuscher vermag sie zu rnhren!” Like Wordsworth, he might say, “To stir the blood I have no cunning art.” There are no cheap effects in any of Newman’s writings. . . . He was loved and honoured by men whose love is an honour, and he is admired by all who can appreciate a consistently unworldly life. . . . He has left an indelible mark upon two great religious bodies. He has stirred movements which still agitate the Church of England and the Church of Rome, and the end is not yet in sight.”[15]

The remaining eleven years of his life the aging Cardinal spent in the quiet of the Oratory at Edgbaston, answering the many correspondents who solicited his guidance in matters of conscience, re-editing his works, and in meditation and prayer. In 1886, Bishop Ullathorne dedicated to Cardinal Newman, his former priest and subject, his last spiritual work in commemoration of “forty years of a friendship and confidence which had much enriched his life.” Touched by the testimony of affection from the venerable prelate, who had stood bravely by Newman in his many trials, the Cardinal wrote the following note of thanks, which Dr. Ullathorne terms “a memorial and a treasure for all time”: “How good has God been to me in giving me such kind friends! It has been so all through my life. They have spared my mistakes, overlooked my defects, and found excuses for my faults. God reward you, my dear Lord, for your tenderness toward me, very conscious as I am of my great failings. You have ever been indulgent towards me; and now you show me an act of considerate charity, as great as you can, by placing my name at the beginning of the last work of your long life of service and sacrifice. It is a token of sympathy which, now in my extreme age, encourages me in the prospect ofthe awful journey which lies close before me.”[16]

In the following year Dr. Ullathorne paid a visit to the aged Cardinal at Edgbaston and on returning narrated the following touching incident, which showed the humility and simplicity of Newman had not been impaired by the honour of the cardinalate: “I have been visiting Cardinal Newman today. He is much wasted, but very cheerful. . . . We had a long and cheery talk, but as I was rising to leave an action of his caused a scene I shall never forget, for its sublime lesson to myself. He said in low and humble accents, “My dear Lord, will you do me a great favour?” “What is it?” I asked. He glided down to his knees, bent down his venerable head, and said, “Give me your blessing.” [A general rule of the Church’s ritual ordains that the lower dignitary should kneel before the higher one.] What could I do with him before me in such a posture? I could not refuse without giving him great embarrassment. So I laid my hand on his head and said: “My dear Lord Cardinal, notwithstanding all laws to the contrary, I pray God to bless you, and that His Holy Spirit may be full in your heart.” As I walked to the door, refusing to put on his biretta as he went with me, he said: “I have been indoors all my life, whilst you have battled for the Church in the world.” I felt annihilated in his presence; there is a Saint in that man.”[17]

No trace of the former suspicions and hostilities now remained. To an allusion to the party which had so long opposed him in England and in Rome, Newmanreplied: “Let bygones be bygones,” adding with a smile, “Besides, they have all come round to my side now.” His declining years were full of serenity and peace. By a happy reversal of fortune, the man who had gone through so many internal crises, had encountered such prolonged opposition from within the Church as well as from without, now found himself at peace with the world and with himself. All England had become proud of him, and the universal acclamation of his elevation to the cardinalate became prolonged into a kind of apotheosis such as few men have experienced in their lifetime. In March, 1884, he writes: “For myself, now, at the end of a long life, I say from a full heart that God has never failed me, never disappointed me, has ever turned evil into good for me.”[18]

The calm of a long evening was drawing to a close. Shortly before his death, he asked some of the brothers of the Oratory to sing him Faber’s hymn, “The Eternal Years.” “Many people,” he said, “speak well of my “Lead, Kindly Light,” but this is far more beautiful. Mine is of a soul in darkness-this is of the eternal light.” After a brief illness, he passed away peacefully on August 11, 1890, surrounded by his brethren of the Oratory. His body lies beside that of his faithful disciple, Ambrose St. John, in Rednall on the quiet Lychey Hills where he had so often gone to pray in silence and meditate, “alone with the Alone.” On his tomb is inscribed the epitaph written by himself, an epitaph that would tell, he thought, the story of his pilgrimage: “Ex umbris et imaginibus in veritatem.”-From the shadows and the symbols into the truth. With his passing the race lost a soul distinguished alike for sanctity and for scholarship. Though dead, he still speaks to us from the pages of his mighty books, speaks of his vision of the truth which led him at times through strange and lonely waters, but brought him safely at eventide to the harbour of peace and security. Poor tired soul, he has passed at last from the tumult of controversy into the silence of the beyond where the eternal truth speaketh without the noise or confusion of words. May he find there the rest he craved-under the everlasting arms and in the light that shall not fail.

ENDNOTES

1 “Letters and Correspondence of J. H. Newman,” Vol. II, pp. 420, 421.

2 “Sermons on Subjects of the Day,” p. 409.

8 “Life of Pusey,” Vol. II. p. 374.

4 “Studies in Philosophy and Poetry,” by Principal Shairp, p. 255, 4th edition.

5 “Life of Stanley,” Vol. I. p. 332.

6 “Letters and Correspondence of J. H. Newman,” VOL II, p. 459.

7 “Memoirs of Mark Pattison,” p. 212.

8 Letter of December 10, 1845 (“Life of Bishop Wilberforce,” Vol.

I, p. 328).

9 “Essays Critical and Historical,” II, 442 f.

10 “Sermons on Various Occasions,” p. 64 f.

11 “Difficulties of Anglicans,” II, 248 ff.

12 “Parochial and Plain Sermons,” vii. 73.

13 P. ThureauDangin, “The English Catholic Revival in the Nineteenth Century,” Vol. I.

14 “Life of Manning,” Vol. II, pp. 313, 314.

15 “Outspoken Essays,” William Ralph Inge, p. 202 ff.

16 “Letters of Archbishop Ullathorne,” pp. 481–483.

17 “Ibid.,” p. 512.

18 “Letters and Correspondence of J. H. Newman,” Vol. II. p. 482.

Published by Paulist Press in 1937.

Catholic Common Sense

BY REV. A. POWER, S.J

INDEX

IT has been often stated that Catholics never think for themselves in matters of religion; that by submitting to the Faith they enslave their intellect and give up their precious birthright of “freedom of thought,” as it is called. They are supposed, seemingly, to have handed over their thinking powers to the Pope, and to be ready to accept unrepiningly and swallow unresistingly every dogmatic pill compounded for them in the recesses of the Vatican.

When G. K. Chesterton became a Catholic, a prominent English editor said that he, for his part, could never follow Chesterton’s example, because no arguments whatever would ever persuade him to hand over his conscience to the keeping of the Pope. Statements like this from cultured, educated men make one rub one’s Catholic eyes and ask oneself: Do these people really think that we are members of a vast, world-wide conspiracy for the suppression of truth; for the enslaving of the intellect and hindering its legitimate activity-a conspiracy which has successfully carried on its wicked machinations for some nineteen hundred years, and has actually managed to entangle in its meshes the vast majority of civilised people and the best and brightest intellects the world has ever known? And, what is still more startling, continues its nefarious career in the broad daylight of twentieth century civilisation, just as vigorous, just as audacious, just as unrepentant as ever? If they really believe this, it seems to me they are accepting as true something so monstrous and incredible that all the miracles which Catholics accept-and for accepting which they are denounced as superstitious-seem mere Child’s play in comparison.

But, of course, the Catholic Church does not ask her children to blind their intellects, or suppress their zeal for truth. She does not ask you to accept her claims without proof. She lays her credentials before you and begs you to bring to bear upon them all the light which history, logic, science, philosophy can supply; and then, when your reason approves of her claims-and not till then submit to her teaching authority. Now, is this an irrational mode of proceeding? Certainly, once you submit to the Church you assent to certain propositions (about divine things) which your own unaided reason could never discover or directly investigate. For example, you accept the doctrine of the Trinity, the Real Presence of Christ in the Eucharist, the infallibility of the Pope, the Immaculate Conception of Our Lady, the Virgin Birth of Christ. But although you cannot actually test the truth of these doctrines directly and in themselves, yet you accept them on the authority of one who has the right to teach you about them, one whose authority you have, by careful investigation, found to be reliable.

But then, this is just the way in which you accept the greater part of your knowledge of history, geography, astronomy, and so on-namely, on the strength of some authority whose statements you trust. And in regard to many of the facts thus accepted, the testimony of others is absolutely the only way in which you can know them.

Historical Evidence

For example, I am convinced that Henry VIII once reigned as King of England. Why? Simply on the authority of historians and other writers whose testimony I trust. I have no other way of knowing the fact. I have never met Henry VIII. personally : nor am I aware of any means by which I can at present get into direct contact with him, wherever he may be. That is, I cannot directly prove that Henry VIII existed. Yet I accept his former existence as King of England as an absolutely certain truth.

Is this unreasonable? Am I cramping my intellect, or giving up my rights to “free thought,” because I tie myself down to this dogmatic utterance: “Henry VIII was once King of England, and had six wives”? No, surely. For I do exercise my prerogative of free thought by examining carefully the authority of the historians and the documents that assert his existence. I convince myself by my own reasoning and without any undue influence from others that those authorities are sound and trustworthy; consequently, I give up all doubt and accept with entire conviction the dogmatic utterances of historians about the English monarch.

Or take this case. Your health is not good-you want to get advice from an expert medical man. You make enquiries, study the evidence, and are at last convinced that certain eminent specialist is a thoroughly reliable, skilful and conscientious doctor, and, being convinced, submit your case to him. He diagnoses your trouble, prescribes certain treatment, perhaps an operation, or else special diet and medicine, or an ocean trip; and you acquiesce quietly and without discussion both in his diagnosis and his remedies. You take the prescription he writes for you, which you yourself cannot make head or tail of; you have no idea what drugs are contained in it, and even if you did, you would not know the effects they might produce. Yet you get the prescription made up and swallow the concoction, calmly and without any dread of being poisoned, all in blind reliance on the competence and goodwill of Dr. X. Now, is all this unreasonable-I mean the putting yourself thus blindly into the hands of a stranger and accepting his pronouncements about your health as so many authoritative decisions, which you intellectually assent to and act upon without further discussion? Well, most people don’t seem to think it unreasonable, for that is just the line of conduct they are following in every city of the world today.

And why is it not unreasonable thus to surrender or submit your intellect to another and accept his words in this blind way? Simply because your reason has convinced you that the man is trustworthy, is a highly-trained expert in medical matters, knows what he is talking about, and is genuine in his desire to deal honestly and truthfully by you. Consequently you trust him! All the rest-diagnosis, prescription, remedies you accept as a matter of course.

Now this is just the very process one goes through in acknowledging the authority of the Church and accepting her teaching with unhesitating faith. By our own reason we examine her credentials. We test and probe and criticise and enquire, until we are convinced of the soundness of her claim to be an expert in matters of religion-a duly qualified physician of souls who can supply effective remedies for our spiritual ailments; and once convinced that she is genuine, we trust ourselves to her guidance and submit to her rule without further misgiving.

The Road from Reason to Faith

I do not, of course, wish to imply that such a logical process is the road by which Catholics-that is, those who are born Catholics-ordinarily acquire their first religious convictions. Knowledge of the truths of faith, like all knowledge, comes in the first place from parents or teachers. It is at his mother’s knee the Catholic child learns to believe in the Church as “the pillar and ground of truth,” and he will usually have already accepted all the Catholic doctrine before he begins to reflect on and examine his ultimate reasons for doing so. But when he does begin to enquire, his reasoning will run along the lines indicated. Now, let us see more in detail the steps of the process whereby a man may work his way to the conclusion that Catholicism is the true religion-just as he may work his way by study and weighing of evidence to the conclusion that William the Norman invaded England in 1066, or Captain Cook discovered Botany Bay in 1770.

I suggest the following steps as indicating the ordinary method by which the argument proceeds; and remember that these steps or propositions are all to be examined, sifted, and established by ordinary reasoning, apart from any act of religious faith; just as a judge or jury will weigh and examine the evidence placed before them in order to reach a verdict.

First then (and to begin at the very beginning), we know by the light of reason that God exists, Creator of the universe and of our own souls.

Secondly: We are bound (by natural law) to show Him respect, obedience, and service; that is, we are bound to practise religion.

Thirdly: A part of the reverence and submission we owe to God is to accept His statements-in case He should make any to us.

Fourthly: It is neither impossible nor improbable that God should communicate with mankind and deliver to them certain truths and commands, and should make it quite clear that they proceed from Him.

Fifthly: As a matter of historical fact such divine communications have taken place in the past especially through Jesus of Nazareth.

Sixthly: Jesus of Nazareth was a true Prophet of God-divinely empowered to teach men religious truth.

Seventhly: Jesus claimed to be Himself a Divine Person, and His claim was justified.

Eighthly: He founded a teaching organisation which was to be world-wide in its scope and was to last for all time.

Ninthly : That organisation still exists in the world, and is called the Catholic Church.

The first four of these propositions-about God’s existence, the duty of worship, the possibility of Divine Revelation -may, perhaps, for most people be quite obvious, and in no need of proof; but others will wish to have the reasons for them set forth with some fulness-and that is what we now propose to do. In Catholic schools of philosophy and theology these matters are gone into fully and with the most minute care. Every Catholic Priest before his ordination must spend several years studying these questions. The output of books upon them, especially in Latin, is enormous. The policy of the Catholic Church is not a hush-hush policy. She has no desire to shirk difficulties or throwdust in the eyes of her students. To us it is sometimes amusing enough to watch the proceedings of certain people who are anxious to have a tilt at religion. They bring out as a new and original idea some difficulty or other about God’s providence, miracles, free-will, etc., which is really as old as the hills. It amuses us because we remember in our seminary days discussing these very problems, wrangling for hours over them in class and out. And we always remember that they were discussed by St. Thomas Aquinas seven hundred years ago, or by St. Augustine eight hundred years earlier still. Yet to these modern opponents of religion, who are often quite ignorant of history, especially of the history of Christian thought, the difficulties seem something quite new and original.

Intellectual Difficulties

But this is a digression. Let us now go back to our propositions. Before making any attempt to set forth arguments it may be well to say a word about the difficulties we may meet on the road. One must not be too much frightened by difficulties-I mean intellectual difficulties-in connection with religion. Experience shows that when you start reasoning in any serious way about the world or anything in it, you find yourself very quickly face to face with “mysteries” which you cannot explain. We are in daily contact with and constantly speaking about such things as motion, time, gravity, space, electricity, life, thought, personality; yet no man can define or properly explain what these things are, though they enter so incessantly into our daily life. But the fact that they are mysteries and difficult to understand does not lead us to doubt their existence.

Astronomy tells us of the amazing, unthinkable distances of the so-called fixed stars, and informs us that light, in order to reach us, must travel from those stars, perhaps for hundreds or thousands, or even hundreds of thousands of years, seemingly without diminution or loss. This ceaseless journeying of light through space is a scientifically ascertained fact, admitted by all. Yet how it takes place, no man can tell.

Theories of light have been propounded-such as the wave or undulatory theory. According to this theory, light is a tiny wave or disturbance or strain produced in the ether, and travelling at the enormous speed of 180,000 miles per second-that is, about a million miles in six seconds. On the other hand, Professor Einstein and the supporters of Relativity deny the existence of either, and, consequently, deny also that light travels in waves, and they propose another explanation far too difficult to enter into here. In fact, the impression many people get when they first hear it propounded is that it is quite unintelligible. At any rate, it is only a theory; and we can say quite simply that the nature of light is still an unsolved mystery-its existence still surrounded with difficulties. Yet the fact of the existence of light surely no one who is blest with eyesight will deny.

Now this principle-that an absolutely certain fact maybe encompassed with insoluble difficulties-must be kept in mind when dealing with religious truths. The existence of God is the most fundamental as well as the most certain of all doctrine-and yet it is the one most surrounded by mysteries.

Cardinal Newman

Cardinal Newman, in his “Apologia,” has a famous passage dealing with this matter, of which I will quote a few lines:—Many persons are very sensitive of the difficulties of religion. I am as sensitive of them as anyone, but I have never been able to see a connection between apprehending these difficulties, however keenly, and multiplying them to any extent, and, on the other hand, doubting the doctrines to which they are attached. Ten thousand difficulties do not make one doubt, as I understand the subject: difficulty and doubt are incommensurate. A man may be annoyed that he cannot work out a mathematical problem, of which the answer is, or is not, given to him, without doubting that it admits the answer. Of all points of faith, the being of a God is, to my apprehension, encompassed with most difficulty, and yet borne in upon our minds with most power.

Thus far Cardinal Newman in his own incomparable style. Remark his words : “Ten thousand difficulties do not make one doubt.” Let us illustrate this by one or two examples: Suppose you send me a letter containing some sentences which I cannot understand, no matter how I puzzle over them. These passages constitute a difficulty which I cannot solve. But they in no way lead me to doubt that you wrote the letter. The handwriting and other circumstances make me quite certain of your authorship. Or again, suppose you are my superior officer in war time. You issue an order which seems to me unreasonable. I do not see why this order is given; to me it seems likely to lead to disaster. But do I for a moment doubt the fact that you issued the order, even though 1 can’t explain why you issued it? Here again you see all my difficulties about the nature of the event do not constitute the least doubt as to the truth or reality of it.

So in like manner a man may have serious difficulties about God’s providence, the existence of evil, the moral state of the World, and find himself hopelessly unable to explain these and other aspects of the Universe, without being in any way led to doubt either the existence of God or the reality of His providence over mankind. It was such difficulties Cardinal Newman referred to when he wrote in the passage quoted above: “Of all points of faith, the being of a God is encompassed with most difficulty, and yet borne in upon our minds with most power.” For he says a little later on :

“ The world seems simply to give the lie to that great truth of which my whole being is so full; and the effect upon me is as confusing as if it denied that I am in existence myself. If I looked into a mirror and did not see my face, I should have the sort of feeling which actually comes upon me when I look into this living, busy world and see no reflection of its Creator. This is to me one of those great difficulties of this absolute primary truth to which I referred just now.”

Then he goes on, in a passage of great power, to describe the Chaotic state of mankind -the moral degradation and sufferings of the human race, and the endless tangle of insoluble problems of which life is so full, and which press so heavily upon the heart of any man whose thoughts are bent on higher things.

THE ARGUMENT FROM DESIGN

Christianity claims to be a revealed religion; that is, it holds that the special doctrines it teaches-the special message it has to deliver—have been received from God by Divine Revelation.

The word “Revelation” is from the Latin revelare, to unveil, to disclose, hence to communicate information, especially information hitherto withheld or inaccessible. The word is used both in a strict and a wider sense. Strictly speaking, Revelation means communicating information through a formal statement in words, whether spoken or written. In a wider sense, it means giving knowledge about oneself in some other way-for example, by one’s external conduct-or the works one produces. Hence, we say that a man’s character is revealed by the way he dresses, the company he frequents, the pastimes he indulges in, the books he reads. For it is the prerogative of an intellectual being to stamp its own likeness on everything it handles or shapes to its use. Hence, the building reveals the soul of the architect, the poem the quality of the poet’s mind; your own handwriting is a record from which experts can judge your character.

Now, in this wider sense God reveals Himself to us in the Universe, just as the artist in the works of his hands. The Universe is the poem God has written—the picture He has painted-the music He has composed-the palace He has built; and by studying that great work of art we learn something of the qualities and attributes of the Artist Mind that planned and produced it. In other words, God is revealed to us through His Creation; and this is what is called Natural Revelation.

When we gaze out upon this vast panorama of Being around us, three qualities specially impress themselves—Beauty, Strength and seeming Infinitude. That is, we recognise in the Universe marvellous order and beauty; we see incalculable forces at play there, and in extent it is apparently boundless. Man with all his efforts, can find no limit to it.

Need we prove that the Universe is beautiful? Ask the artists whose whole ambition is to reproduce in colour or marble or music some dim reflection of the loveliness that fascinates them when they gaze on the world around them. Ask the poet, lost in ecstasy at the enchanting vision of earth and sea and sky, and telling in rapturous words the glory of that vision. Yes, the world is beautiful-so exceedingly beautiful that men become enamoured of it, pour out their hearts upon it, and forget the Creator who spread it out before their eyes. They are so fascinated by the gift that they cease to worship the Giver; as if a bride should fall in love with the diamond ring bestowed upon her by her lover and for the sake of the glittering jewel forget him of whose love it is a token.

Now, why is the world beautiful? Because it reflects something of the infinite beauty of the Artist Mind that planned it. So the old Hebrew Psalmist understood when he sang: “The Heavens declare the glory of God and the firmament showeth His handiwork.”

The Wheeling Universe

In the second place, think of the incredible forces at play in this vast workshop of a Universe. This planet on which we live is racing along in its orbit round the sun at the rate of about nineteen miles per second. That is a speed we can hardly conceive. The record speed for a motor-car is about four miles per minute; for an aeroplane about six miles per minute.* Now, nineteen miles per minute would be three times as fast, and nineteen miles per second means sixty times as fast again. Think of the force required to propel the earth through space at that enormous velocity—twenty times faster than the fastest cannon-ball. Yet, what is the earth compared with the sun-that huge bonfire of blazing chemicals nearly a million miles in diameter-which sends off heat to such an extent that it is calculated to be losing weight at the rate of two hundred and fifty million tons per minute, or thirty-six thousand million tons daily. Recent science conjures that the temperature of the interior of the sun must be about thirty million degrees Fahrenheit. Sir James Jeans states that this heat is so great that a small pinhead of matter raised to that temperature would burn to a cinder everything and everybody within a radius of a thousand miles! Yet, the sun is just one rather ordinary star in the midst of a blazing Universe of stars, some of which are four or five hundred times as large as the sun.

Think, then, of the forces at work around us, and of the omnipotence of Him Who called these forces into being and controls and guides them to certain definite ends, just as surely as the pilot on a great ocean liner controls the movements of the vessel and brings her gently to rest at the harbour pier.

Infinitude

And then the limitless extent of the Universe-the third quality mentioned above! Who can fathom the depths of that glittering ocean into which we gaze at night, on which we are all adrift, rushing at incredible speed towards some unknown destination? Scientists have sought to plumb those depths with their instruments, but all in vain. The larger and more perfect the telescope that is used, the more numerous and endless the stars appear to be. Photography has been brought into play, and the piercing eye of the sensitised plate, along with the spectroscope, have probed the mysteries of the sky more effectively than any other instruments devised by man, and the result is the same-to leave us gasping with amazement at the seeing infinitude of the material Universe.

1 once saw in a museum a model constructed to convey some notion of the distance of the nearest so-called fixed star, that is the star or sun that is nearest in space to our solar system. This star is Alpha Centauri, one of the “pointers” of the Southern Cross, the bright constellation of the Southern hemisphere. This star is so distant that its light, travelling at the rate of 180 thousand miles per second, takes about four years to reach us. Now, the model was this: At one end of a large hall the earth was represented by a tiny globe the size of a boy’s marble, the moon by a bead placed four inches from the globe. That is, four inches on the model represented the quarter of a million miles that actually separate the moon from us. On the same scale, the sun is represented by a large golden ball 125 feet away at the other end of the hall. This 125 feet represented 90 million miles—our distance from the sun. Close by there was a printed placard stating where Alpha Centauri-the nearest star-would be on the same scale-namely, in California, 6,000 miles away. So you see the solar system-the sun and all his planets-have plenty of room to tumble about in without danger of-collision with their nearest neighbour! There is as little risk of such a collision as there is of a dog playing in a suburban garden in Dublin colliding with the Town Hall of San Francisco! Thus, the Universe, by its vastness, gives us a hint of the infinitude of God.

* These figures relate to circa 1930–32.

The Evidence of Mind

I will now ask you to use the wings of fancy and take our stand beside one of those great machines that arc the triumph of modern engineering skill-say, a motor-car of the newest type, or a monster steam locomotive, or a great printing-press. What is the explanation of such a machine? The answer is: Man’s intellect. There is one force, and only one force, in the world capable of producing a motor car, a railway engine, or a printing-press, just as there is only one force that is capable of composing a poem, painting a picture or building a cathedral, and that force is man’s thinking soul. And the greater and the more complicated the machine or work produced, the more we recognise and admire the skill and power of the mind that planned it.

Now, what would you say if a person were to argue thus: When a machine becomes very large and very complicated, it does not require a planning and constructive mind to explain it-it explains itself ; a boy’s toy-boat may need a clever workman to make it, but the great liners that carry the mails across the ocean, just because they are so vast, are more independent and stand less in need of a human mind to plan and construct them? You would, of course, call that a very ridiculous way of arguing; yet, in reality, that is just the way in which many infidels have argued when doubting or denying the existence of God. The Universe, after all, is like a great and infinitely complicated machine, with endless revolving wheels and interlacing parts, dependent each on each. We petty men, peep about amidst the whirr and racing motion of that vast engine and try to discover the principle on which it works-the secret of its revolutions.

And yet there are people who, although they would regard as ridiculous the idea of a machine like a motor-car coming into existence by chance and of its own accord, do actually assert that the Universe, which exhibits far more evidence of design than any man-made machine, has somehow come into being and evolved itself without any guiding intellect whatever. When a man speaks thus, surely he is contradicting reason and taking up a position which violates all the laws of thought. In plain words, he is talking nonsense.

The Rights of Reason

After all, reason is our only safeguard-in this as in all other matters. When I assert that intellect produces order- that intellect is capable. of constructing delicate instruments and complicated machinery-I am stating an evident fact known to all from daily experience. But if I assert that such instruments or complicated machinery may come into being of their own accord and without the guidance of intellect, whether the machine is a fountain-pen, an aeroplane, a living organism, or a whole Universe (since size makes no difference), I am making a wild assertion, which flies in the face of reason and common sense, and is contrary to every piece of evidence which we can possibly appeal to.

A Thinking Cog

Perhaps I may illustrate the matter thus: Think of one of the machines just referred to-say a motor-car. Now, imagine that one small piece of its mechanism-let us say, the cog of a wheel-becomes suddenly endowed with reason and the power of thinking, and, looking round its little universe, finds itself fulfilling a certain definite but limited function in the general car scheme. The sphere of its activity is circumscribed-it pursues a fixed route outside of which it cannot go. But, looking forth from its position, it can watch the general march of events, and sets to work to solve, if possible, the problem of motor-car action; and by constant observation finally unravels the process whereby a certain operation in the sparking-plug and carburettor develops energy which, in the end, causes the wheels to revolve and the car to move. By vigorously using its little iron head, this enterprising cog has now achieved, that knowledge of the mechanism of the oar which you or I might acquire by studying the matter. But when it has got hold of that knowledge, there still remains a problem which it has not even touched: How did all this mechanism come into being? By whom was it all so arranged as to secure such splendid rapidity and smoothness of movement? Such a line of investigation might lead the inquisitive cog to make the acquaintance, let us say, of Henry Ford, and find in his busy brain the ultimate and satisfying explanation of the car.

Applying the Parable

Now to apply this parable. The great Universe around us is a vast machine, in which we are very tiny parts-cogs of a wheel, if you like, but thinking cogs-confined in our physical movements to one small globe that is like an insignificant wheel in the whirling cosmos around us. But, although thus circumscribed in our movements, we have a capacity for looking out and exploring the nature and working of the machine of which we form a part; and the knowledge resulting from these investigations constitutes what we call Physical Science. This science gives us a more or less accurate (though inadequate) knowledge of the machine and its operations and the interdependence of its parts.

But when we have acquired all the scientific knowledge possible about how the Universe works, there still remains the question: Who pieced it all together? Who so planned and arranged all its parts that they work with such accuracy and smoothness? To this question only one rational answer has ever been given, viz.: An intelligent Being is responsible for the order of the Universe, and that intelligent Being is God.

To leave out God in our efforts to solve the riddle of the Universe is like leaving out man when trying to explain the existence of the motor-car. Of course, a man may be interested merely in finding out how the car works without bothering about its inventor; but if he wishes to get a complete and final explanation of the car he must not stop till he gets back to the mind that planned it.

So, if you want a final explanation of the Universe you cannot rest satisfied with mere mechanical theories (such as Evolution). You must reach a thinking, planning Intellect behind it all; only then will your Reason be satisfied.

Difficulties

Certain difficulties or objections are sometimes brought against this argument. I will briefly touch on one or two. The first is that there is so much evil—both physical and moral—in the world that we cannot ascribe the Universe to a wise, intelligent Being.

Now, !of course, the existence of evil is a problem that weighs heavily on everyone, and we hope later on to go into this subject and discuss solutions of the problem. I am here concerned with it merely as an objection against the Argument from Design.

And surely it is amazing that anyone should urge the fact that there are aspects of the Universe which we cannot explain, as an argument against its having an Intelligent Creator! It is like this: Suppose you buy a new typewriter, and discover What seem to be defects in its construction. Do you immediately say: “This typewriter cannot be the work of an intelligent person”? You may be quite unable to explain how these seeming defects come to be there, but you will not dream for a moment of saying that it had no maker, and that the typewriter made itself or came into existence by chance.

So, in like manner, even if I am unable to explain satisfactorily why there is so much evil in the world or so much suffering, and even if other aspects of creation puzzle me hopelessly, that does not lead me to deny the existence of an Intelligent Creator; nor will I be so insane as to describe this radiant home of light and beauty as the outcome of the blind dance of an infinite ocean of atoms, racing eternally through the void, and by their casual collision producing all things that exist, including the brain of a Da Vinci, a Shakespeare, or a Napoleon. Yet that is the amazing, fantastic theory developed and defended in sonorous hexameters by the atheistical Roman poet, Lucretius, in his work on the Nature of Things and borrowed from him by later materialistic philosophers.

Again, in modern times one hears the statement sometimes made that by means of Evolution we can explain the Universe without God. (So, e. .g., Haeckel.) But Evolution, even if true, does nothing more than describe the process whereby one thing develops from another, growing all the while more perfect, more complicated, and climbing higher in the scale of things. But it offers no explanation as to why or how such development should take place at all. The acorn evolves into an oak tree; and if you ask me to say how this oak-tree comes to be in existence, I point to the acorn as the explanation. Very good. But is that all? What about the acorn itself? Does it need no explanation? Suppose Evolution were true, and that the Universe has reached its present state through a gradual process of development from lower to higher-from the simpler to the more highly organised forms of existence; then it is like a huge oak tree evolving from a primeval acorn. But what about that primeval acorn itself-fiery nebula, or chaos, or whatever other name you like to give it? Whence did it derive the amazing power of thus gradually evolving into the myriad forms of being that surround us today in the Universe?

That is a question which modern science will not even tackle, and to which it has no answer to give; it is a question to no answer can be given except the one which we maintain and which Reason approves-namely, that the final explanation is God, the self-existent Creator.

Nihil Obstat:

RECCAREDUS FLEMING, Censor Theol. Deput.,

Imprimi Potest:

@ EDUARDUS,

Archiep. Dublinen. .

Hiberniae Primas,

Dublini die 10 Jul., anno 1933.

Catholic Education In The Home

(A TALK GIVEN TO THE 1954 SOUTH AUSTRALIAN STATE CONFERENCE OF THE NATIONAL CATHOLIC RURAL MOVEMENT, BY A DOMINICAN NUN, CABRA CONVENT, ADELAIDE)

INDEX

THE purpose of my talk today, is to think over with you, some of the ways in which Catholic parents may play their part in the Christian education of their children. It would hardly be possible for anyone to choose a topic more important than this, and that for two reasons.

MATERIALISM

Firstly, it seems no exaggeration to say that our civilization, our way of life is on the verge of destroying itself. Materialism, that theory which denies all spiritual realities-God, the soul, the life hereafter, which makes the human being a mere object, has gained a terrifying hold on the minds of men. Almost every day we hear something which forces us to realize that the Catholic Church is one of the few institutions that still respect every human being as a person, of priceless value in the sight of God.

I cannot develop this point any further, but it leads to the second of my reasons. It is obvious that our children will have to bear the brunt of this struggle against anti-human, anti-Christian forces. The fate of the world lies in our children’s hands. As a nun writing in America states, “Even a quick look around will assure us that the influences set against our children today amount almost to a diabolical plot.” But the “child is still the strongest bridge between God and man.” And when we realize that no educational influence on earth is as powerful nor as permanent in its results as that of the family and home, you will see why I think this topic is so vital. The enemies of religion know that their most effective weapon is the attack against family life. You, too, must realize as fully as possible, the power that is yours.

IN THE HOME

“Education,” it is said, “is the help that is given to the growing personality of the child to recognize itself and to become all that God intends it to be,”-a truly human person, with all its powers and gifts fully developed and used for the glory of God and the service of others.

It is the home that makes possible the growth of the child’s personality. With every waking moment th e child becomes more conscious of itself, more ready to absorb the influence of those nearest to it. Its soul is, as it were, untouched soil which places no obstacles in the way of anything planted in it. In later years, many interests compete for its attention. In early childhood, the mother first, and in lesser degree the father and other members of the family absorb the child’s whole attention and so can contribute very deeply to the development of its personality. From them it learns natural independence in walking and talking. From the parents it discovers the meaning of love, security and authority. No one else can love the child in exactly the way a mother loves it as part of her very self-no one can therefore know it nor influence it as she does.

WHAT THIS MEANS

It is not hard to see from this the tremendous importance of a good home. What is there, almost subconsciously imbibed, will never be rooted out of the person’s being though it may be clouded over or twisted for a time by later experiences. How great then is the parents” responsibility and their need of the graces of matrimony, to bring up their children in the fear and love of God.

In discussing more in detail the parents share in the education of their children, I shall consider four main aspects of the way in which the child is prepared, as Pope Pius XI expressed it “for what he must be and what he must do here below in order to attain the sublime end for which he was created.” The home must set the child well on the way to—. . . a deeply sincere religious life and sense of spiritual values.

. . a deep respect for the things of the mind.

. . . a love and an appreciation of what is beautiful.

. . . a respect for the rural way of life and itsspecial place in God’s plan.

It is in the first of these, the development of the child’s religious life, that the parents must be to the child “an authentic revelation of God.” He sees God through them. Seeing their love for one another, he more readily grasps the truth of God’s love for all; seeing them pray he senses the holiness of God and the reality of the unseen world of saints and angels. Their trust in God, despite bad seasons and the like, their kindness to less fortunate neighbours, their unsparing attention to their jobs, all mirror for the child the fatherhood, the very love of God.

THE CHILD IS INFLUENCED

Consider too, the power a mother wields in developing the conscience of her child-the care she should take that it is rightly formed, delicate but not scrupulous and overfearful. Then, as the children grow older, the father’s influence becomes stronger, and his attitude to prayer, to the Sacraments, his way of speaking about priests and the Church, determine, even without his being aware of it, the way his children, especially the boys, will regard these things.

Beside these indirect ways, there are also many ways of directly helping the child to know, love and serve God. I am sure you all have experienced the power and the joy of family prayers, of Grace before meals and the evening Rosary, of hearing Mass together. You have known perhaps the joyous share the whole family can have in the first Holy Communion of the six-year old or the Baptism of the new baby. Make the most of these events, and do all you can to bring your children to a reverent joy in all the feasts of the Church by having special practices for Lent and Advent in preparation for Easter and Christmas, by establishing family customs, e.g. a home Crib, Carols and even a Christmas Play, or welcoming the Christ Child by inviting an orphan child to the home. Let the children save up for Masses for the Holy Souls in November, or to help the Missions.

A CHRISTIAN ATMOSPHERE

The Crucifix on the wall, the pictures of Our Lord and His Mother-the loveliest you can afford-the little shrine with lights and flowers-these unceasingly speak to your little ones of God’s love and His Beauty, preparing them for that friendship with God, that willing, personal submission to Him that is true freedom and happiness.

Growing up from babyhood in a truly Christian atmosphere such as this, children are soon ready for more definite instructions in the truths of our Holy Faith. In giving these, a mother has no equal as a teacher, if she strives sincer ely to do it well, remembering that she is not working alone. The divine life of Grace is in the soul of the child, giving him what St. Thomas calls “a kind of divine intelligence, the light of Faith, which helps the light of the intellect.” Anyone who has taught religion to children know how eagerly they take it in; they have a natural religious sense. There are books, e.g.,Christopher’s Talks to Children, which help parents to develop the Faith of their children, but it would be the most wonderful help of all if the parents would read or tell them the stories of the Bible. Such stories enthral the children more than any others, and help them to know Jesus and Mary as real people. Even the young ones will listen to the Gospel stories as given in Monsignor Ronald Knox’s version. We should never forget that the Bible is a source of Divine Truth and it would be hard to over-estimate the value of a child’s continual and loving contact with God’s own words in the Old and especially in the New Testament.

Even when the religious instruction of the children is given in school or by correspondence courses, the responsibility of the parents does not cease. They should know what the child is studying, discuss it with him, help him to make the knowledge part of his daily life, a real influence on his actions and thoughts. This is not to be done by nagging at the child but by keeping the atmosphere of the home such that it is easy and natural for the child to practise virtue and live what he learns. The whole family should be vitally interested in these Religion lessons, and make it clear that they are regarded as the most important part of the child’s schooling. It is a pity that the text-books used are not more helpful and attractive to both parents and children,

TIME CAN BE FOUND

I hope that not too many of you are wondering, “How on earth could we find timeto do all that?” A mother’s day is always a busy and tiring one, especially when the children are young. I know there are times in the year when it would be impossible to find even a few spare minutes. But I know too, that you long for all that is best for your children; and love feels no burdens and scarcely knows the meaning of the word impossible. It would be helpful to call to mind two principles-the value of going slowly and the power of incidental teaching.

In a story of Ethel Meynell’s, telling of a father’s rearing of his motherless daughter, I once read a line I have never forgotten. “He gave her,” it said, “the inestimable benefit of leisure for her growing.” Nothing is gained by hurrying little children on beyond their powers.

A quiet lesson of from eight to ten minutes, given daily or several times a week is enough for little ones, provided there are other times for reading or listening to holy stories and joining in family devotions. Even prayers need not be learnt all at once. The little one can say “Our Father, who art in Heaven, bless your little child,” or “Hail Mary, full of grace, help me to love your Child Jesus,” and thus gradually learn the prayer, phrase by phrase, as its meaning is given time to sink into his mind. Never forget that it is God’s will that the parents should be the ones to teach the child to pray, as Mary and Joseph helped the boy Jesus to advance in wisdom and grace.

Incidental teaching gains its immense effectiveness from being given at the moment it is needed. It is the explanation given just when the child asks for it, and so is fully alert to the answer. It is the story told when the child is most receptive, the question asked when the issue really means something and is not just part of a lesson. Most parents know that daily home life has many such occasions, and mothers especially know that young children are very confidential and responsive when they are being put to bed, or helping them at some little task. Often we teachers envy mothers their chances of cooperating so intimately in the child’s growth to holiness.

NURSERY OF SAINTS

In truth, the family circle is the nursery of saints as of sane, human beings. There the child finds the love, security and guidance which are his greatest needs. I shall end this part of my talk by a quotation. “It is by loving and being loved that persons grow as persons. it is in the family that relationships are essentially personal and each person is valued as a person.” So we look to the family to preserve that form of society, that way of life which respects the personality, the unique value in God’s eyes, of every human being. The mothers who humbly strive to open the eyes of the children to the truths of the first chapters of the catechism are doing a work of incalculable, irreplaceable value. Maybe that is the vocation of the country family-to keep alive a sane view of life by educating their children to be, as Fr. Gerald Vann expresses it, “creative personalities who will share the redemptive work of Jesus Christ through their lives, their work, their homes and their love.” If ever you get the chance read the stories of Saints Pius X and John Bosco, Saints Therese and Maria Goretti, and you will realize how close is the connection between good homes, nobility of character and sanctity.

VOCATIONS

You will understand too, why vocations to the priesthood and the religious life come usually in the good home; and with grateful love you will encourage the children who want to serve God in this great way.

I am afraid I have too little time to deal adequately with the three other aspects of educative work in the home. But, as a Dominican, I must speak at least briefly, on the parent’s share in developing in each child a deep respect for the things of the mind, for the work of the human intellect. The work of the intellect is to grasp truth, to grasp the meaning of things as they are in the reality of their own being, to come always nearer to seeing things as they must be in God’s sight. It may be the Divine Knowledge of God as He has revealed it to us, or the natural knowledge of the universe He has created, or the world of ideas by which the human mind strives to understand the purpose of existence-why the world is, what we are, what are our real powers, what are the relationships between things and men and the unseen world. Whatever it be, the unspoilt human intellect seeks this knowledge and yearns for it, because even when it does not know it, it is always seeking the greatest reality, God, the source of all Truth.

The modern world has little taste for this thirst for truth. Too often, insensitive and blind to the inner meaning of things, it asks only “Of what use are they to us?” “Is there any money in it for us?” It degrades everything by commercializing it. It scorns those who have no material gain to show for all their study. There is nothing wrong with putting our knowledge to practical use. The Holy Family at Nazareth had to do so daily. The grave mistake is to forget the higher value of knowledge, to let our minds be tainted by the materialistic outlook around us; even sometimes to encourage our children to adopt this attitude. That is why I am dwelling on a point that may at first, seem to have little to do with education in the home.

THE COUNTRY HOME

I can see in country life and the country home great possibilities for keeping alive a right love for knowledge. I can sense a danger too in the fact that parents are often dependent on non-Catholic schools for the outside education of their children. There is bound to be confusion and conflict in the child’s mind, if the ideals and standards of value differ, especially if one held that man, not God, was the measure of Truth. The home must therefore deliberately set itself to correct this, to give the child the right meaning of truth and knowledge. For this the country child has the great advantage of living from his earliest days in close contact with natural things, with things that have come straight from the hand of God. “Everything that is, is more than it is,” and the child can gain real knowledge from the company of living and growing things. Natural things exert an almost incredibly strong influence on the child mind, which can surrender its whole being so fully to what it sees and loves- a fleet of ducklings on a pond, a calf on its rickety legs, a moonlight walk to turn off the windmill, the tall trees always in their place, the ride round the thirty-acre on the Massey-Harris pulled by eight strong horses.

GOD’S PURPOSE IN ALL THINGS

Experiences such as these things can hardly fail to give real knowledge and at the same time to guard and guide the spirit of the child, giving it a sense of true peace and true grandeur which it need never lose. In your own minds, now perhaps you are seeing again what used to give you a special joy or comfort, reassurance or inspiration. The meaning and purpose of these natural things is something a child can understand, and at the same time he is led, almost, unawares, to see God through them. Thus is developed a sense of wonder at the mystery of being that could be a most precious possession for life.

This power to see the creatures of God as the symbols of His goodness and beauty, if rightly developed, is a means of enabling the child to enter more fully into the spirit of the liturgy, that is, the Church’s public worship of God. It would help him to see the significant way in which flowers and candles, oil and wine and bread and water are used in the Sacrifice of the Mass and in the Sacraments. And though I cannot dwell on the thought now, it would be worth your while to think deeply about the educative value of the Church’s liturgy, all Her ways of giving worship to God, and bringing man to God. This seems a long way from so-simple-seeming a subject as the study of nature; but all real knowing has such far-reaching effects.

READING

By encouraging children to read and to reflect on what theyread, parents can also strongly influence a child’s attitude to learning. But the books must be worth reading, for you cannot develop a taste for what is good, nor the power to seek and find the beauty or truth of what is written if the book is of poor quality. There is now a great wealth of good books for children and young people. It would be difficult to over-estimate the value of helping your children to love reading. Some great educators do not hesitate to state that the test of the well-educated person is the quality of his reading. Can he really read a great book? If you could bring back to your home the custom of reading aloud to your children (or their reading to you) and of letting them try out their powers of thinking and discussing with you, you might help to make Australia a land of genuine culture. But the right book is the important thing and it is your responsibility to do all you can to get them, plenty of them-Saints” books, Nature books, stories, fairy and folk tales, stories of real life. But remember there is a world of difference between a genuine fairy story as found in Hans Andersen’s Tales or Andrew Lang’s Fairy Books and some pixie story by Enid Blyton.

Before I leave this problem of developing a deep respect for the things of the mind perhaps I could mention the right attitude to take towards the children’s progress in their studies. A Catholic parent should never be tempted to ask-What is the good of all this study of poetry or history or Latin-it won’t help you to get a job-nor is it wise to use, as a spur to urge children to work, the argument that they will not get on in the world. Again, keep always in mind the truth that children differ very greatly in natural gifts and aptitudes. One of the greatest lessons we have to learn in life is to accept ourselves as we are and our children have to learn it too. What is needed is to find what one can really do and do it as perfectly as we can.

“SUCCESS” IS NOT ENOUGH

How much more sane and balanced is the personality of the child who is not for ever being harried by unfair comparisons with what other children can do. Often we are so anxious for the success of our children that we forget the harm we may be thus doing to their characters their attitude to life. Rather should we train our children to rejoice sincerely in the gifts and success of others.

When I come to consider what it means to have given a child a love and appreciation of what is beautiful in life, in art, in music, in literature, I could wish I had a poet’s power to convey in a few words, a whole world of meaning. It is indeed “fatally easy to think we have educated a child when we have trained him to think, to acquire masses of useful information, to do many useful things.” We could do all this and leave his inner spirit untouched or dulled. Someone has written that “modern education has produced a world, completely out of tune with beauty, unaware of it, and incapable of seeing it, reverencing it or producing it.” The ugliness of much that we see in big cities-advertisements on hoardings, factory buildings, radio programmes, comic strips and popular songs and dance music, that are utterly empty of all loveliness and graciousness-These are evidence of wide-spread disregard for beauty, and, to quote a great Catholic writer, Jacques Maritain, “The dismissal of beauty is a dangerous thing for humanity.”

It would scarcely be too much to say that in dismissing or belittling what is beautiful we are dismissing God. For God is Beauty as well as Truth and Goodness, and “all the beauty we can see is but an addition to the store through which we become aware of God.”

“ON EARTH THE BROKEN ARC. . . . . . .”

I know some may be tempted to think that all this talk of beauty and art is too impractical, too much far away from the business of everyday life-or that the country home cannot do much about it. But a Catholic should never let himself think like that. He should know that to be a complete person, means to be able to see and to feel, to imagine and even to create what is beautiful. I cannot go into this any further, much as I would like to. I shall say just this:- the home can do more in this matter than the school. Like love for our Holy Faith, appreciation of the fine and lovely things of life comes from constant association with beautiful things themselves and with people who have a genuine love and understanding of them. So it is for parents to help their children in this vital matter. Simplicity, neatness, colour, brightness, and good taste can make the house and garden lovely without great expense A few really good pictures by great artists can help to form the children’s taste. There are, for example, so many of Our Lady by artists such as Fra Angelico, Botticelli and Raphael, that it seems a shame to have instead, ones that are unworthy of Our Lady’s beauty and dignity. A good book for helping children to understand art has a significant title, Pictures to Grow Up With. Children take great notice of pictures in the home and I know I can recall vividly all the pictures in our home. Hence the importance of having lovely ones and of encouraging the children really to look at them-and to make their own, to draw and paint and make things. Much of a child’s future happiness and goodness depends on what the home and the school have done to help him to discover and develop his special creative powers, his capacity for making something beautiful

RESPONSE TO POETRY

It seems harder to discover what can be done at home to foster a love of poetry. There are collections of works by genuine poets (i.e. not just writers of verse for children) which are produced in such a way as to captivate the attention-such as the Adventures in Poetry series by Mary Daunt, or The Blackbird in the Lilac, by James Reeves or an Australian Adventures in Poetry, edited by Donald McLean, and Gospel Rhymes, published by Sheed and Ward. If these could be read aloud and talked over, it would be a good beginning. The attitude of the adults to poetry has a great deal to do with the child’s response to it.

MUSIC -TO UPLIFT OR DEGRADE?

To develop appreciation of good music is both easier and harder-easier because modern people will listen more readily to music than to poetry; harder because so much music is heard that is utterly worthless, if not vulgar and degrading. Positive efforts are always best in this as in all education. You can find ways of knowing what is good; and by wise choice of radio programmes and the playing of records of good music the home can set up right standards for the children before their taste has been spoilt. If it is at all possible, some members of the family who have the gift should learn to play the piano or other musical instruments. They can then give great joy to the others.

I could say much more, but I daresay you are thinking that I have said enough. Still I think you will see from the above, that one of the defects of the education of girls, especially of those who are going to be home-makers in the country, is that it is too similar to a boy’s education. Training in art and music, in subjects such as history and great literature, in all that would make for good taste in dress, speech and home decoration and management would do more to fit a girl to be a Christian mother and the mistress of a Christian home.

EDUCATION FOR RURAL LIVING

And so I come to my final point-what the country home can do to educate the child for rural living. An American writer on the “Forward to the Land” movement, expressed the value of rural living thus:-”To live a decent, human-life a man needs space for family living, a good environment for bringing up children, one where children are welcome, the possession of property so that the family can have both independence and responsibility, and a chance for genuine communityliving, for true neighbourliness.” Only the country can give all this. A nation can be no stronger than its families are, and they can be at their best in the country. And when to this natural strength we add the crowning glory of the Catholic Faith, when we strive to bring Christ to the countryside, and the land to Christ, we are certainly exercising a great apostolate. This is the ideal and vocation we wish to hand on to our children. They will learn it best by living it, by being given an active share in it, while still young. If the chance to be truly responsible for what one does is one of the values of rural living, then the rural home must give each child jobs to do which he must do with faithfulness and responsibility. It is not enough that he sees, what is easily seen on a farm, that the feeding of animals, the watering of plants, the milking of cows, the gathering of eggs, the preparing of meals cannot be put aside for another day. He must share that responsibility if he is to experience the joy of a job well done. The jobs should not be burdensome to the child, but they should be really necessary jobs, and the child should be really responsible for doing them. Anyone who has had much to do with modern children, would realize their need for a sense of responsibility, and for acquiring a spirit of work and a respect for its dignity. At the same time the children will learn from sharing the family work to care for things “with reverence and detachment,” to use them properly-a very valuable lesson that is so hard to teach to the child who has to spend his growing years in a flat or in a few rented rooms.

COMMUNITY LIFE

True neighbourliness or the spirit of genuine community living is really an extension of a sense of responsibility. It is living a truth that, as members of the Body of Christ we are almost as responsible for the goodness and happiness of others as we are for our own. “We are all one in Christ.” Someone has put it thus: “The countryman retains in his very fibre the knowledge that God’s answer to “Am I my brother’s keeper?” is an emphatic “Yes.”” Children should not only see the genuine concern which their parents have for the troubles of others and their readiness to give help; they should have their share in helping. Picnics and parties and games together are the joyful side of neighbourliness; children need this, and the more serious side as well. As they grow up in the more spacious country environment, they can learn the meaning and value of quietness, serenity and solitude; but they should realize that they are never isolated, no matter how far away the nearest homestead.

From their parents, too, children learn to take an active part in parish functions and entertainments, to give time and energy to supporting movements such as the Rural Movement, or any movement or club that is working to help the Catholic boy or girl to be, in time, an intelligent and contented member of a country community.

SENSE OF VALUES

A parent’s surest means of developing in their children this intellig ent appreciation of a rural way of life, is by giving them a happy home life with parents and children sharing their interests and fun. Nothing can replace the value of that in any child’s life, but it is particularly true of the country child’s life, who at some time or other will be tempted by the seeming enchantment of city life. It can be a very strong temptation, but parents who have realized that their vocation in life is to educate their children in God’s way, will not be found wanting. Their own love for each other and for God, is the strongest foundation of happiness in the home, and that is one reason why they will keep to themselves any differences or disagreements that may arise between them. They will realize that the special home virtues of unselfishness, bearing with one another, gentleness, generosity and modesty will not come without prayer and personal effort. Each of these would be worthy of a talk on its own, but unselfish courtesy and modesty are needed by the child of today to a degree that is almost frightening-courtesy because it means a real concern for the feelings of others, a deep respect, a reverence for the person of others-and reverence, we are told, is fast disappearing from our world. Good manners is the outward showing of courtesy and good-mannered children have good-mannered parents-That is the only certain way. This is true also of modesty-a person’s sense of reverence for himself, his own person. Here, the father has a tremendous responsibility for the modest manliness of his sons and their respect for women; and the mother must know that her girl’s womanly modesty and purity depend largely on hers. A girl nowadays, at least in the city, needs this virtue to an heroic degree, so great are the temptations to unbecoming dress and behaviour. Yet Catholic women, who knew how to dress smartly and modestly, and had the courage of their convictions, could start a revolution in this matter.

THE HOME OF A SAINT

To end my talk, I want to quote the words of our Holy Father, the Pope, spoken when he was canonizing St. Maria Goretti, the twelve year-old martyr of purity-She was, he said, “the fruit of a Christian home with its old simple method of education, a home where one prays, where the children are brought up in fear of God, in obedience to parents, in the love of truth and self-respect, accustomed to be satisfied with little, and to give a helping hand.”

It was a country home, and Maria was a country child, who learnt early the meaning of sharing fully in the joys and sufferings of a family-the give and take of a family life. I have always loved the ideals of country life, and have loved teaching children from country homes. That is why I am glad and honoured to speak to you today, to get to know a little of those who make it possible for children to be truly childlike. City children have their own lovableness and perhaps a greater need of our work, but I often find myself longing to give them the tremendous benefits of growing up in the country-and that is why I think every effort should be made to establish in the country, colleges and schools that are fully Catholic and truly rural in ideals.

Our Lady was the mistress of a little village home in Nazareth; Jesus was a little village child. I know their loving spirit will guide every step the country child takes on his way to heaven.

Nihil Obstat:

W. M. COLLINS, Diocesan Censor.

Imprimatur:

@ D. MANNIX,

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis. 19th May. 1955

********

Catholic England

EDITED BY JOHN C. HEENAN C.M.S

INDEX

THAT”S what I call good beer,” said Old Moffat, smacking his lips. “Don’t often come across beer like that these days.”

Ellis put down his tankard.

“You’re right, Moffat, that is good beer. It’s what they call singing beer. It does you good, that brew. Haven’t had anything like it since I did a job up at the monastery acouple of months ago.”

“Monastery?” said Moffat. “Do you mean to tell me that monks know anything about beer? I can’t imagine monks drinking beer. I thought they were singing hymns all day.”

“That’s what I used to think,” said Ellis, “until I started going up there. Had a plumbing job that took me best part of three weeks. I got to know the monks pretty well. They gave me a room in what they call their guesthouse and, believe me, I altered all my ideas. I got to reading at nights. There was nothing else to do. I started reading some history books. I thought I”d go barmy at first. I only brought a couple of Edgar Wallace’s with me. When I finished them I thought I”d had it. But one of the monksgave me some books on history. Believe me, it’s just as good as Edgar Wallace.”

Moffat didn’t look very convinced.

“I don’t get a lot of time for reading myself,” he said. “Did you find out anything interesting?

Interesting? replied the other, “I”11 say I did. Did you know that this country was full of Catholics at one time? There were monks all over the place and the only reason why they turned them out was because old King Henry VIII wanted to give their lands to his pals.”

“You don’t want to believe all the stuff the Roman Catholics tell you,” said Moffat. “It’s a lot of propaganda. That’s what they were giving you.”

“That’s what I thought at first. But the book I got most out of wasn’t by a Roman Catholic at all. It was by a bloke named Cobbett. He was a Protestant himself. And he gives you all the facts about the Reformation. You’d be surprised what England was like in those days.”

“Do you mean to tell me,” said Moffat, “that everybody was monks?”

“Don’t be daft. Course they weren’t all monks. But all these ruined abbeys were once full of monks.”

Old Moffat looked thoughtful.

“Well, if monks can brew beer like this, there’s something to be said for them, after all.”

ROUND TRIP

This was the first day of their holiday. Ellis and his wife and Old Moffat had joined a party that was going to do a bit of touring. Mrs. Ellis wasn’t exactly Old Moffat’s style. She had a cousin who was a parson and gave herself airs.

You’d think she was a parson herself the way she used to keep Ellis on the straight and narrow. The only reason why he was sitting down now having a glass of beer with Old Moffat was because his wife was having a hair-do and would be safe for a couple of hours at least.

The next morning was Sunday. When Old Moffat got down to breakfast he found Mr. and Mrs. Ellis half way through their bacon. Old Moffat never felt too good first thing in the morning. He hoped they wouldn’t expect him to be sociable. He propped the News of the World against the teapot and looked at the test-match score.

Mrs. Ellis gave a little cough. Moffat groaned inside. This is it, he thought.

“Now I”ve got to be nice and polite. Why didn’t I stay at home instead of coming on this trip?”

I suppose we’re all going to church this morning?” said Mrs. Ellis, with a glitter in her eye.

“Church?” said Moffat. “Church on a glorious day like this? I”m going for a walk. I don’t suppose they’ve got one of my churches here, anyway.”

“This is a very up-todate town,” said Mrs. Ellis. “They’ve got every kind of church here. There’s a High Church and a Low Church. There’s a Chapel. What more do you want?”

Old Moffat gritted his teeth.

“I”m on holiday,” he said. “I can be led, but I won’t be druv. And another thing. I heard a bunch of women arguing last night about church. So far as I could gather, the parish church was too low for the Highs and too high for the Lows. So I reckon people would be better off taking a stroll in God’s fresh air, same as me.”

Mrs. Ellis rose stiffly.

“It’s better to go somewhere than nowhere. Every Christian ought to go somewhere on the Lord’s Day, Mr. Moffat.”

When she had gone, Moffat poured himself out another cup of tea and filled his pipe.

YOUNG NOBLER

Poor Ellis, he was thinking. Fancy getting dragged off to church like that. It’s a good job I never got married. He looked across the dining-room and saw the young fellow named Nobler. He was in the party, too, but he seemed to be the only one on his own. Old Moffat sat sucking his pipe wondering whether he ought to go up and say a word to him. He seemed a nice kind of young fellow. May as well. Perhaps he’ll come and have a pint with me down the road.

“I”m Moffat,” he said, going up to young Nobler’s table. “Are you going to church or are you coming for a walk?” Nobler said: “Me for a walk every time. I went to church at 8 o‘clock this morning before you were up. “I didn’t know there was any service as early as that,” said Moffat. “I heard them saying that the first one was at 10 o‘clock. Good job Mrs. Ellis didn’t know. She’d have had young Ellis up half the night.”

Nobler laughed.

“Oh, mine wasn’t that kind of service. I”m a Catholic. I”ve been to early Mass.”

Old Moffat’s eyes lighted up.

“I didn’t know you were R.C. Ever been in a monastery?

“Yes, I”ve been in a monastery tons of tines.”

“What was the beer like?” asked Moffat with a wink.

“Beer! Did you say beer?”

“Yes,” said Old Moffat. “Beer. I didn’t know anything about monasteries till yesterday. Young Ellis was telling me that they make the best beer in the world in monas teries.”

“I think you’ve got the word wrong,” said Nobler, smiling. “You’re thinking of breweries, not monasteries.” “I”m thinking of monasteries. Ellis tells me that before the Reformation there were monasteries everywhere and they made singing beer. I”m going to have a look at some of these monasteries. They must be a bit of all right.” “You don’t really think,” said Nobler, ‘that the main thing about monasteries is their beer, do you? “Course I don’t,” said Moffat. “But come to think of it, if those monks made beer they must be sort of human.

Never struck me before that monks could be human.”

“Oh, they’re human enough,” said Nobler. “Why shouldn’t they be? They are men the same as you and me.” “Then why do they go and lock themselves up in monasteries? Why couldn’t they settle down and marry like everybody else?

“Nothing to stop them,” said Nobler. “But I suppose they reckon they can do their job of work better by not settling down and getting married. In the old days in England most of the teaching was done by the monks. They would build churches and till the land. And there was no need for workhouses. Anybody was welcome in a monastery.” “Yes. So Ellis was telling me last night,” said Moffat. “He told me a lot of interesting bits. I wonder where they came from in the first place?

“Why, they were practically always here. When the Roman soldiers were in England there were some Christians among them. But they didn’t last. The Angles and Saxons made short work of the Romans. But then England got converted all over again. Let’s have a stroll and I”11 tell you about it as we go along.”

OLD ENGLISH CHURCHES

Moffat went upstairs and got his hat. Then he and Nobler went out past the parish church into the country. They had a good walk and a couple of half-pints. By the time they came back to the hotel Old Moffat felt he knew all there was to be known about the history of England. As luck would have it, in the lobby coming in he met Mrs. Ellis in person.

“What did you learn at church this morning, Mrs. Ellis? “he asked.

“Should have come yourself, then you’d know,” Mrs. Ellis replied frigidly.

“Tell you what,” said Old Moffat. “I bet I learnt more about religion this morning on my walk than you did in your church. Tell you one thing I learnt I bet you don’t know. Do you know who built that church you were in this morning?”

“How should I know who built the church? It doesn’t matter who built it. It’s who goes there that counts.”

“Well, I”11 tell you,” said Old Moffat, ignoring her reply. “That church was built by the Roman Catholics.”

“Don’t be perfectly ridiculous,” said Mrs. Ellis. “That church is a thousand years old.

“That’s what I mean,” said Moffat. “There weren’t any Protestant churches in England a thousand years ago. All these churches were built by the monks. Tell you something else I learnt. Who was the most famous monk in English history?

Mrs. Ellis smiled. She’d show this ignorant old man that she knew a thing or two. She’d read a lot of books her cousin the parson had given her.

“St. Augustine, of course,” she said.

“That’s right,” said Moffat. “Did you know that he was a Roman Catholic?”

“You’ve been drinking beer,” said Mrs. Ellis. “How could he have been a Roman Catholic? He was the first Archbishop of Canterbury. I”ve seen his chair in Canterbury Cathedral. Whoever heard of an Archbishop of Canterbury being an R.C.?”

This was more than Nobler could stand.

“Are you being serious, Mrs. Ellis? He asked. “Didn’t you really know that St. Augustine was a Catholic monk sent by Pope Gregory the Great, who was a monk himself?

Surely you must know that until the Protestant Reformation everybody in England was a Catholic?”

“I don’t know about that,” said Mrs. Ellis. “But I”ve been to church and I don’t want to start quarrelling. Anyway, we’re on a holiday. Let’s forget arguments. I”11 ask my cousin all about the monks when I see him.”

The rest of the day they spent in sightseeing. They went out to an old castle with a dungeon and pieces of rusty chain still hanging from the walls.

“This place gives me the creeps,” said Mrs. Ellis, shuddering. “They ought to close these places down.”

“Come on,” said her husband. “You know you wouldn’t have missed this for worlds.”

THE PAGEANT

The next day they were all up bright and early because it was Bank Holiday Monday. They had to get to a little village forty miles away where they were going to see a pageant. The party was in good spirits. There wasn’t a cloud anywhere. Just the day for a drive. They did it in just under the two hours.

They had a picnic lunch on the village green and rested while they waited for the pageant to begin. Everybody seemed happy except Old Moffat. There was a perfectly good pub in the village and he thought he could enjoy himself there better than at a pageant. He whispered into the ear of young Ellis:

“Can’t we slip away?” he said. “I know what these pageants are like. They ought to be held in church. I didn’t know this tour was going to be all religion.”

Mrs. Ellis was looking hard at the pair of them. Old Moffat subsided. Better stick it out, he thought. It won’t last long, anyway. And they’re open again at 6 o‘clock.

Sure enough Old Moffat’s worst fears were realised. Out came the Vicar to announce Scene One, and what should the first scene be but St. Augustine with a lot of monks trooping after him singing hymns.

“What did I tell you?” he whispered to Ellis under his breath. “My day’s ruined.”

But, as Moffat discovered, it wasn’t half as bad as he had expected. In fact, he got quite interested. They showed you Augustine founding his Church at Canterbury. Then they brought on King Alfred, cakes and all. Then they showed you Edward the Confessor starting to build Westminster Abbey.

The next man in was William the Conqueror. He was a great big fellow and might have been the village blacksmith. As he came on, he waved to his wife, missed his step and fell down. His armour was so heavy he couldn’t get up again. He would have stayed there all afternoon if Edward theConfessor (who was supposed to be dead) hadn’t come out and picked him up. Old Moffat laughed till the tears ran down his cheeks. Not even a look from Mrs. Ellis could keep him quiet.

Next they saw Richard the Lionheart going off to the Crusades and they saw his brother, John Lackland, sign Magna Charta.

Then came the War of the Roses.

HENRY VIII

About two o‘clock King Henry VIII strolled on. He was so fat be could scarcely move. With him was Anne

Boleyn.

“Doesn’t she look cute?” said Ellis.

But it was his unlucky day. His wife heard him. He knew he’d have to pay for that later on. He decided to keep his mouth shut for the rest of the pageant.

Next came Cardinal Wolsey and Archbishop Cranmer.

In the same scene there was a Bishop called John Fisher and the Lord Chancellor Sir Thomas More. Old Moffat found it a bit hard to sort it all out. Young Nobler had told him that Cranmer was a Protestant and Fisher was a Catholic. But there on the villagegreen they all seemed to be pals. On the whole, he wasn’t sorry when the Vicar announced the interval.

Young Nobler, Ellis and Old Moffat could scarcely believe their luck when the Vicar came up and told Mrs. Ellis that he’d been a curate with her cousin. They were soon lost in conversation. This enabled the men to slip across the road just before they closed.

“Thirsty work, watching pageants,” said Old Moffat, as they sat down.

“True enough,” said Ellis. “But I wouldn’t have liked to be old Henry, stuffed out with all those pillows.” “Bad lot that Henry,” said Moffat. “I see they said nothing about him and the monks. What’s the real story, Nobler? Nobler finished his half-pint and put the tankard down with a flourish.

- “ I thought everybody knew about old Henry. Don’t they teach them anything in school nowadays? Here’s the way it happened. King Henry wanted a boy to succeed him on the throne. His own sons had all died and the only child alive was a girl. As a matter of fact, he’d got fed up with his Queen whose name was Katherine and he’d fallen for a pretty little bit named Anne Boleyn. So he said that he really shouldn’t have married Katherine in the first place. He said that having no sons was a judgment of God on him for having Katherine.”

“How did he get away with that?” asked Old Moffat. “He was married properly, wasn’t he?

“Oh, he was married all right. But she’d been married first of all to his own brother. When the brother died she married Henry. Now a Catholic can’t marry his sister-in-law without permission. It’s what Catholics call a dispensation.”

Ellis leant forward.

“Well, hadn’t Henry got this permission?”

“Course he had,” said Nobler. “He wasn’t really worried about his marriage at all. He knew it was a marriage all right. His trouble was thathe’d got tired of Katherine and he wanted the Pope to let him marry Anne.”

“And what did the Pope do?” Ellis asked.

THE DIVORCE

“What could he do? The Pope can’t go against the Bible. He couldn’t give a divorce. And Henry knew very well he couldn’t. That’s why the Pope and King Henry fell out. That’s when the fun began. Henry decided he’d have to make his own Church. The Archbishop of Canterbury had died so Henry put in a pal of his own named Cranmer. This Cranmer promised to do anything Henry wanted.So he didn’t kick up any fuss when the King made Parliament pass an Act to say that the Pope was no longer head of the Church but there would be an English Church and the King would be in charge.

“Next he told Cranmer to say the Pope shouldn’t have given him a dispensation to marry Katherine. That was

O.K. by Cranmer, so Henry went off and married Anne Boleyn.”

“That sounds all very well,” said Ellis. “But my wife told me last night that the Pope was always interfering in

England and that’s why they had to get rid of him. She says that her cousin told her the Church of England was never part of the Church of Rome. She says that hundreds of years before the Reformation the Pope and the King of England used to be fighting. The Archbishop of Canterbury was always an Anglican.”

“Now don’t start talking rubbish,” snorted young Nobler. “Everybody knows that the Archbishop of Canterbury always got his power from the Pope. Henry wasn’t really serious when he said that he could be head of the Church.

Henry really wasn’t a Protestant at all. He was really a Catholic.”

Old Moffat wasn’t listening. He was thinking of something else. He banged the table.

We’ve just got time for another one, boys, before we go back to that pageant. I didn’t follow all you were saying.

But I must say it’s news to me what young Nobler said. I never heard anybody say that King Henry VIII was a Roman

Catholic.”

“Who’s paying for this beer?” asked Nobler, suddenly.

“Leave that to me,” said Moffat.

“No, it’s my turn,” said Ellis.

“Tell you what I”11 do,” put in Nobler. “Do you bet me I can’t prove to you that Henry VIII was a Catholic? If I can’t, I”11 pay for the beer. But if I can prove it, Ellis can pay instead. You keep out of this, Moffat. You’ve done enough already.”

DEFENDER OF THE FAITH

Nobler pulled out of his pocket a handful of coins and put them on the table in front of him.

“Every one of those coins,” he said, “is a proof that Henry was a Catholic because on every coin you will see this.” He picked up a penny and showed them what was written round the King’s head.

See that Fid. Def.”? That’s the Latin for Defender of the Faith. Have you ever asked yourself what that means?” “Can’t say I have,” said Moffat. “You tell us.”

“It means that the Pope gave to King Henry and all the Kings of England to come after him the title of Defender of the Faith. When the Protestant Reformation was started in Germany by an ex-monk named Martin Luther, King Henry wrote a wonderful book to defend the Faith. So the Pope, whose name was Leo X, rewarded him by giving him the title.”

“Well, I must say,” said Ellis, feeling for his money, “I never knew that before. I wonder if my wife’s cousin knows it?

The beer and the sun had gone to Nobler’s head. He was getting quite excited.

“There’s an awful lot of things that people ought to know in this country,” he said, “and one of them is that our ancestors in England all called the Pope the Holy Father, the same as English Catholics do to-day. All the bishops in England were appointed by the Pope. You call the Archbishop of Canterbury the Primate of All England. He was called that nearly four hundred years before the Reformation. As a matter of fact, the first Archbishop to get that title was Archbishop Richard. He was given the title by the Pope.”

Ellis was getting a bit excited, too. He somehow felt that his cousin’s honour was at stake.

“Are you trying to tell me,” he asked Nobler, “that the Pope used to appoint English bishops just the same as the Prime Minister does now? It doesn’t seem right. After all, the Pope has to be an Italian. What does he want to start interfering with England for?”

“Your trouble,” said Nobler, is that nobody’s told you anything. Hasn’t anyone told you that there’ve been Popes of every nationality? We have had an English Pope. There’ve been German Popes and French Popes and all sorts of Popes. But it’s not a question of race. It’s a question of religion. Why do you say the Prime Minister ought to appoint bishops? Why should Chamberlain have appointed bishops of the Church of England? He never believed in it. He was a Unitarian. Old MacDonald before him was a Presbyterian. It doesn’t make any sense to me.”

THE CHANGE OF RELIGION

Old Moffat had fallen asleep. He felt happy. He thought that his friends had forgotten all about the pageant. But he did not sleep for long.

A small boy ran up to the table.

“Excuse me, gentlemen,” the boy said. “A lady up at the pageant told me to tell you you’re to come at once.”

Nobler was, if possible, more annoyed than Old Moffat. He had just begun to tell them how the English people hadn’t realised what was happening at the time of the Reformation.

When Henry started calling himself head of the Church, the people thought it was just politics. They didn’t realise there was going to be any change of religion. But when they saw what it was all about they started getting nasty. In 1534 the King had made Parliament pass the Act making him head of the Church. It took a couple of years to sink in, but in 1536 there was a terrific rebellion. There was a rising of nearly forty thousand men. That was a huge number for those days. The rising was called the Pilgrimage of Grace. They weren’t going to stand for any change of religion. They were Catholics. But the King was too clever for them. He persuaded the men to lay down arms and then he executed all the leaders.

But Nobler didn’t have any time to say all this. He knew there’d be no peace for anybody if they upset Mrs. Ellis. So back they went to the pageant.

When they got there they found Queen Elizabeth on the stage. The Virgin Queen looked as if she was enjoying herself. She was a nice little red head. But Ellis had learnt his lesson and only said to his wife:

“What a lovely dress she’s got on.”

Mrs. Ellis didn’t seem to mind that so much.

Nobler was so busy thinking about his grievances that he didn’t take much notice of the pageant. Old Moffat fell fast asleep. He missed the Merry Monarch and Queen Anne and all the rest of them. He woke up only Just in time to see Queen Victoria having her jubilee. That was the end of the pageant except for a little speech by the Vicar. He congratulated the actors and said how much everybody had learned of the glories of the past.

That night after supper Mrs. Ellis went to bed and the other three were sitting round a table in the saloon bar. Young Nobler had quite recovered his spirits.

“It’s about time I paid for something,” he said. “What are you going to have?”

The other two thought they would stick to the beer, though it wasn’t quite so good as the singing beer at the other place.

During supper Ellis had had rather a hard time with his wife. He’d been telling her all he’d heard from young Nobler and she’d primed him with a few questions.

“My wife,” he began, “says she’s never heard of the Pilgrimage of Grace.”

“So what?” said young Nobler. “Does that mean the Pilgrimage of Grace never happened? Perhaps she’s never heard of the rising in the West? Tell her this one when you go to bed.

THE RISING IN THE WEST

“There was a great rising in the West in 1549. The men of Cornwall were slow thinking, but when it had penetrated their thick skulls that the Reformation meant a change of religion and that they were going to lose the Mass, they rose like one man. You ask her about that. Perhaps they don’t put that bit in Protestant history books.”

“This beer,” said Old Moffat, “is better than the last lot. This must be something like the old monks used to make.” The other two weren’t listening, so he added quickly:

“Sorry I”ve interrupted. What was that you were saying about the rising in the West, Nobler? “Well, it’s rather a long story. But if you want to hear it, here goes.’

“When Henry died, the new King was young Edward VI. He was only a child, so the Government could do what it liked. Cranmer, the Archbishop of Canterbury, was the first Protestant bishop. He hated the Mass because the Mass is what means most to Catholics. So between him and the politicians they decided to get rid of it. The first thing the Government did was to abolish all the Chantries.”

“All the what?” asked Moffat.

“Chantries,” said Nobler. “People used to die and leave money to the Church. This money was to support a priest who would offer Masses for their souls. Well, the Government wanted that money, the same as they wanted the lands belonging to the monasteries. A lot of people got rich quick out of the money and land they stole from the Church. You know Somerset House in the Strand? You know, the place where they keep the registers of births, deaths and marriages. Now, there’s a place built out of the money belonging to the Church. It was built in the young King’s time by Somerset.”

“This is a bit beyond me,” said Ellis. I don’t get it. What’s this got to do with the rebellion ? If the people who left the money were dead, who was left to rebel? Was it the priests who rebelled?

“No,” said Nobler. “It’s really all very simple. The only way the Government could pinch the money was by telling the people that the Mass was abolished. They said it was a farce. It was just blasphemy. They said it wouldn’t help anybody living or dead. Then they got Cranmer to write a new Prayer Book which didn’t mention the Mass at all except to denounce it.

THE HOLY MASS

“Now the men of the West weren’t going to have the Mass talked about like that. So that’s why they rose in rebellion.”

“How did they get on?”asked Old Moffat, who evidently thought it was like a cup final.

“Oh, they lost,” said Nobler. “So the Government pulled down all the altars in the churches.”

“Come off it,” said Ellis. “You can’t tell me that. There are altars in all the old churches.”

“Yes,” said Nobler. But they’re new ones. All the old altars—about sixty thousand of them-were pulled down and they put what they called a holy table in their place. To the Catholics, Mass was a sacrifice. In the new religion there wasn’t any sacrifice, so there wasn’t any need for an altar. They just had this holy table for their Communion Service.”

“What I say,” said Old Moffat, who thought the party might break up and he’d get no more beer, “is that there’s good and bad everywhere. I expect they all meant well. As far as I can see, Protestants killed Catholics and Catholics killed Protestants. We’ve all got our faults. Didn’t Bloody Mary come along and put all the Protestants to death?”

Nobler looked thoughtful.

“Well, there’s no doubt about it, she did all she could to put back the Catholic religion where it belonged in this country and a lot of people got hurt in the process. Stands to reason that the people who had got rich out of the spoils of the Church wanted to overthrow Mary. So she bumped them off. But don’t run away with the idea that England was ever runningwith the blood of Protestants. Still, I”m not going to deny that some Protestants gave their lives for what they believed to be true. But the blood didn’t really start to flow until Good Queen Bess came on the throne.

QUEEN ELIZABETH

“Now she was another real Protestant. At her coronation she took an oath to protect the Catholic Church. But the first thing she did when she became Queen was to suppress the Mass again and bring back the Book of Common Prayer.If people wouldn’t go to the Protestant church, she fined them. If they still wouldn’t go, she put them in jail. And if they didn’t start going when they were released, she banished them from the country. Any priest found saying Mass was put to death.”

It was no good. Young Nobler simply couldn’t keep his temper. So he decided the best thing he could do was to go to bed. He gave Old Moffat a hearty good-night. But his good-night to poor Ellis was much less hearty. When he had gone, Old Moffat said to Ellis:

“Now listen. I”m nearly twice your age and there are two things you should never argue about- politics and religion. Now let’s forget it. Let’s forget religion for the rest of this week and enjoy ourselves.”

All through the week the men were very good. They saw the sights, drank their beer, discussed sport. But they kept off anything that looked even vaguely like religion. But on the last day of the trip it all started again. It wasn’t anybody’s fault really. On the last Saturday morning they were due to be shown round an old priory church.

When they got there they found a party was already being shown around. They must have come with the big bus that was standing down the road. The party was being led by a tall priest dressed in the habit of Benedictine. At the sight of him, Nobler turned excitedly to Old Moffat.

‘This is it,” he said. “ Here’s a real live monk for you at last. You go up to him and ask him about the old monks.”

Old Moffat wasn’t a bit shy. He went up to the priest and said:

“Excuse me, sir. Are you an R.C. monk?”

“Yes,” answered the priest. “ At your service. Can I do anything for you?”

“Well,” said Old Moffat, “this young fellow’s an R.C. too, and he was telling me a lot about monks before the Reformation. I don’t know whether he was pulling my leg. Do you know anything about the old monks?”

The priest laughed.

‘I ought to,” he said. “After all, the Abbey I live in is much the same as the old abbeys that used to be dotted around this country. Anyhow, join my party if you like. I”m just explaining to my people, here, about what happened to these monasteries.”

The priest turned back to his party.

“Well, as I was saying, King Henry VIII pulled down a lot of these monasteries and the new rich looted them for lead, timber and stone and built country-houses for themselves. Now we’re standing just about the spot where the altar was. It wasn’t till Queen Elizabeth’s time that they got really savage. Although all her ancestors had believed in the Mass, and her own father and sister had gone to Mass all their lives, she made up her mind to abolish it.

THE ALTAR

“Now, thanks to the Ministry of Works, there’s an old altar set up here that has been discovered after being buried for centuries. Just look closely. See those five crosses carved into the stone? That’s a sign of an altar where Mass is said. The altar in my Abbey church has got an altar stone justlike this.”

By the side of the altar stone was a glass case forming part of a kind of museum that local enterprise had started. “That open book,” the monk said, “is an old missal. It must be every day of seven hundred years old. The colours look as fresh as when the monks first painted them. Now look, see where something’s been crossed out. That’s where in every missal there is a space for the Pope s name.

Mrs. Ellis had come up by now and was listening rather suspiciously to what the priest was saying.

“Excuse me, sir,” she said. “ But it was only the Pope they got rid of, wasn’t it, at the time of the Reformation?

“How do you mean?”

“Well, the religion of the Church of England today is the same as it was before. We are all Catholics. But we are not Roman Catholics. That’s what my cousin says, and he’s a parson.”

The monk pointed to the altar stone.

“That’s really the test, madam. It is the Mass that matters, not the label you wear. Before the Reformation they only recognised one kind of Catholic. That’s the kind which acknowledges the Pope as Vicar of Christ and believes that the Mass is the most important thing on earth.”

Mrs. Ellis flushed angrily.

“But I belong to the very High Church. We have the Mass and everything. We’re Anglo-Catholics and you’re Roman Catholic.”

The monk regarded her with a compassionate look.

“You know, it isn’t really fair to call yourself a member of the Church of England. You’ve got to be either a Catholic or a Protestant, really. If you had been alive in Queen Elizabeth’s day you would never have heard anybody in the Church of England talking about the Mass. Incidentally, you would never have heard of anybody talking about Roman Catholics. I suppose you know that the name Anglo-Catholic is a very modern invention? So you really ought to make up your mind whether you’re a Catholic the same as St. Augustine and all the great names in English history-Edward the Confessor, William the Conqueror, Richard Lionheart-or whether you are a Protestant like Cranmer, the first Protestant Archbishop. of Canterbury. You can’t really-”

UNDERGROUND MOVEMENT

“Pardon me.” It was Moffat speaking. “I”ve had to put up with this kind of thing for a week. I don’t like arguments. I”m just looking for information. Will you tell me this? What happened to the Catholic Church when Queen Elizabeth had finished killing thepriests and expelling the Catholics? Did it die out?”

“No,” said the priest. “The Catholics opened colleges on the Continent. Young men went there to be educated, and when they were ordained priests they came back in disguise. The Catholics who were still left at liberty used to know them. These young priests used to say Mass in hiding places all over the country. That’s why there are some places in England where the Mass has been said without interruption for over a thousand years. But when they were found out, the priests were put to death.”

“Sounds like a sort of underground movement to me,” said Old Moffat.

“The Catholic Church had its underground movement in the catacombs in the first centuries, during the

Reformation in this country, and today in every country where there is a dictator who hates Christ.” “And how long will the Catholic Church stay underground?” asked Old Moffat.

The priest looked thoughtful.

“That doesn’t depend on the Church. That depends on the grace of God. When He gives men the light, they begin to look for the Church. They begin to love it instead of wanting to destroy it. When they look for the Church, they can always find it.”

“But not if it’s underground!” persisted Old Moffat.

“But this is God’s underground,” replied the priest. “God’s underground always comes out into the open so that it can be seen by the friends of Christ. The Catholic Church is not supposed to stay underground. Christ said it was to be more like a city set on a hill.”

********

Catholic Life

A SELECTION OF LEAFLETS FROM THE BELLARMINE SOCIETY

INDEX

INDULGENCES

An indulgence is NOT-as some wrongly believe-a pardon for sin; still less is it permission to commit sin No one can gain an indulgence for unforgiven sins, for sins that are still upon his conscience; only when the moral guilt of the sin has been forgiven can he gain an indulgence. Also, no one can obtain an indulgence unless he be in a state of grace, that is, free from serious sin.

WHAT THEN IS AN INDULGENCE?

It is the remission, the cancelling, of part or all of the temporal punishment, which may remain due to sin, after the guilt of sin has been forgiven. And what is temporal punishment? As opposed to eternal punishment, it is punishment which will come to an end, either in this life or in the next.

In the Early Church, penances for sin were very heavy, but gradually the Church came to grant indulgences in regard to these severe penances; that is, for a good reason she lessened the penance that would ordinarily have had to be done, and made up what was wanting by her power over the superabundant merits of Christ and His Saints. The purpose of indulgences is to encourage and help the faithful to sanctify themselves. Thus an indulgence is granted only for a good reason and when certain prescribed conditions have been fulfilled, all of which tend to the sanctification of the person concerned. A good reason is required; for the Church, having only the power of dispensing the merits of Christ and His Saints, cannot grant indulgences arbitrarily and at her mere whim. This reason is usually the purpose for which the indulgence is granted-the promotion of the worship of God, the fostering of works of charity, the spreading of a special devotion, and so forth. Among the conditions, the Church may prescribe Confession and Communion, together with a visit to a church and the recital of certain prayers there, or the good work prescribed may take the form of fasting, almsgiving, and so on. When the necessary conditions have been fulfilled by a person in the state of grace, the Church grants remission of part or all of the temporal punishment still due. This remission holds good before God.

But it may be asked: “When God forgives, does He not forgive wholly?” Here we must make a distinction. We must note that there is a double offence in sin: there is a personal offence against friendship with God, for the sinner withdraws from God and gives to a creature the love that is due to God alone; and there is also an offence against justice, for the sinner, by disobeying God’s Law, withdraws the respect and honour that is justly due to the Divine Majesty: Now, the offence against friendship with God incurs the GUILT of sin; the withdrawal of the honour due to God merits PUNISHMENT. When the sinner repents, the guilt of the sin is wholly forgiven. But some debt of punishment remains due, and justice demands that satisfaction be made for it. We can the more easily understand that the Divine Justice should require this satisfaction, if we remember that sin is a violation of “the temple of God “ (cf. i Cor. iii. 17) and that it grieves the Holy Spirit of God (cf. Eph. iv. 30).

God forgave Adam and Eve; He forgave Moses; He forgave David; but, though the eternal punishment they had deserved was cancelled, we know from Scripture that God nevertheless inflicted temporal punishment. Read the divine message delivered to David by Nathan, and you will find the distinction between GUILT and PUNISHMENT clearly brought out. “The Lord also hath taken away thy sin. Thou shalt not die.

Nevertheless, because thou hast given occasion to the enemies of the Lord to blaspheme, for this thing, the child that is born to thee shall surely die” (II Kings or II Samuel xii. 13–54).

You may perhaps object: “Yes, God Himself can remit punishment; but has the Catholic Church the power to grant indulgences? “

The Catholic Church has this power. It was given to her by her founder, Jesus Christ. This power is a necessary part of the “Power of the Keys,” given by Our Lord to St Peter and his successors, for the Power of the Keys extends not only to the GUILT of sin, but also to the PUNISHMENT due to forgiven sin.

This can be proved from Our Lord’s words to St Peter: “And I will give to thee the keys of the kingdom of heaven. And whatsoever thou shalt bind upon earth, it shall be bound also in heaven; and whatsoever thou shalt loose on earth, it shall be loosed also in heaven” (Matt. xvi. 19; see also xviii. 18).

And from His words to the Apostles, conferring on them the explicit power to forgive sins:

“Whose sins you shall forgive, they are forgiven them; and whose sins you shall retain, they are retained” (John xx. 23).

Christ, then, has given His Church the fullest power in the remission of sin, and of every bond that would keep a man out of heaven. But this power would not be the fullest power, unless it embraced also power over the temporal punishment due to those sins, the guilt of which has been forgiven- unless, in other words, it included the power to grant indulgences.

This is the Catholic doctrine of indulgences. We do not deny that abuses, on the part of individuals, have existed in the past. These abuses arose mainly from the fact that almsgiving was often a condition of gaining an indulgence, and in this there is nothing essentially wrong or simoniacal. But over-zealous and imprudent preachers of indulgences made a traffic of them and practically sold them for money. In this they acted wrongly. But the truth and usefulness of the doctrine itself were unaffected by these abuses. The abuse of the doctrine is no argument against the doctrine itself. What good thing is there which, at some time or other, has not been abused? Popes and Councils have condemned these abuses.

The Council of Trent especially emphasized this condemnation: “Being anxious that abuses. . . . should be amended and corrected, (the Council) ordains that all evil gains for the obtaining (of indulgences). . . . be wholly abolished.”

To deny the truth of the doctrine because of the abuses is as unreasonable as to deny to drivers of motorcars the right to drive because of the criminal carelessness of some of their number.

CONCLUSION

An indulgence, then, is the remission of all or part of the temporal punishment which may remain due to sins after their guilt has been forgiven.

In granting indulgences, the Catholic Church is exercising lawfully a right and a power given to her by Christ Himself.

THE REAL PRESENCE

The Catholic doctrine of the Real Presence is that the Body and Blood of Christ are truly, really, and substantially present in the Holy Eucharist, so that after the consecration there remains no substance of bread and wine; but that substance has been changed into the substance of Christ’s Body and Blood, the appearances of bread and wine remaining unchanged.

I. THE PROMISE

In St. John vi. 54 ff., Christ declares:

“Amen, Amen, I say unto you: except you eat the flesh of the Son of man and drink His blood, you shall not have life in you” (54)

“he that eateth My flesh and drinketh My blood hath everlasting life” (55)

“My flesh is meat indeed and My blood is drink indeed” (56);

“HE THAT EATETH MY FLESH, AND DRINKETH MY BLOOD, ABIDETH IN ME, AND I IN HIM “ (57), ETC. CHRIST MEANT HIS WORDS TO BE TAKEN LITERALLY.

1. He uses the solemn formula “Amen,” i.e., “in very truth.”

2. Six times in six verses (54–59) He repeats His statement, now negatively, now positively.

3. He did not disabuse His hearers when they understood Him literally, murmured (v. 53) and fell away (v. 67). On the contrary, He continued to insist on His first assertion.

4. The only figurative meaning of eating another’s flesh and drinking his blood in the language used in the time of Our Lord, is to hate or injure another (e.g., Ps. xxvi. 2), a meaning impossible in this context. N.B.-It follows, with even greater certainty that Christ cannot have meant a figurative eating and drinking consisting in the acceptance of His word by Faith.

II THE FULFILMENT

(St. Matt. xxvi. 26–28; St. Mark, xiv. 22–24; St. Luke, xxii. 19, 20; I Cor. xi. 23–25).

The words by which the Holy Eucharist was instituted are:—“This is My Body”;

“This is My Blood of the new testament” (St. Matt., St. Mark), or, equivalently:

“This chalice is the new testament in My blood” (St. Luke, St. Paul).

(1) No words could state more clearly a Real Bodily Presence. As the statement of a figurative presence they would be singulary misleading. When Christ speaks in parables He makes it clear that His words are not to be taken literally. The words, “I am the vine,”

“I am the door” of the sheepfold, for example, if understood literally, would make nonsense. But the words Christ uses in referring to the Holy Eucharist must be understood literally, for if they are not, they can, as noted above, denote only hatred and injury.

(2) For nearly three years the disciples had seen, and shared, His miraculous powers. He had encouraged them to place implicit faith on His word. Is it credible that He should now have given them no indication that He spoke in figure merely?

(3) The only Scripture parallel to these words of Christ -Exodus xxiv. 8-where Moses sprinkles the people with sacrificial blood, saying: “This is the blood of the covenant which the Lord hath made with you,” demands the literal interpretation.

III. THE WITNESS OF ST. PAUL AND THE APOSTOLIC AGE

“For as often as you shall eat this bread and drink the chalice, you shall show forth the death of the Lord until He come. Therefore, whoever shall eat this bread or drink the chalice of the Lord unworthily, shall be guilty of the body and blood of the Lord.

But let a man prove himself; and so let him eat of that bread and drink the chalice. For he that eateth and drinketh unworthily, eateth and drinketh judgment to himself, not discerning the body of the Lord” (i Cor. xi. 26–29). 1. The consecrated elements are specially marked off-”this bread” and “the chalice of the Lord.” 2. The action is a solemn one; for a man must “prove himself,” to examine if he be worthy, and the solemnity is due to the nature of the food eaten.

3. The unworthy partaker is “guilty of the body and blood of the Lord”-language which only the doctrine of the Real Presence can justify.

4. The penalty is damnation, because he did not “discern the body,” i.e., he presumed to treat as ordinary bread what was in fact the Body of the Lord.

IV. THE EARLY CHRISTIAN CHURCH

All early practice points to the belief in a real and permanent Presence of Christ in the Holy Eucharist. 1. It was the custom to receive Holy Communion fasting.

2. The formula of administering was: “The Body of the Lord,” “The Blood of the Lord,” to which the recipient answered “Amen.”

3. Communicants were enjoined to be most careful lest fragments should fall, because it was the Body of the Lord.

4. Holy Communion was regularly carried to the sick and to prisoners under the species of bread only. Hermits in the desert received it: in persecution, the faithful took it to their homes in order to be able to communicate in case of need.

This is, and always has been the doctrine and practice of the Catholic Church about the Real Presence of Our Lord in the Blessed Sacrament.

WHY CATHOLICS HONOUR MARY

The Virgin Mary was the Mother of Jesus Christ. But Jesus Christ was God, and therefore Mary was the Mother of God Incarnate (Matt. i. i8). That is the fundamental reason why Catholics honour her.

To carry out the purpose of His Eternal Wisdom to redeem mankind, God the Son came into this world as a Man Himself. In becoming Man, God chose to be born of a human mother. By His Omnipotence and Wisdom He was able to choose, from all the nations and peoples existing throughout the ages, the one woman who was to be His Mother. God’s choice fell upon Mary, the Virgin Spouse of Joseph, who was living in the little village of Nazareth in Palestine.

Mary was the Mother of Jesus Christ, True God and True Man. Catholics, therefore, honour Mary because:

I. GOD CHOSE HER ABOVE ALL OTHER WOMEN

Would one not look for the greatest perfections in the woman God chose to be the Mother of Christ, His Eternal Son? Surely God could choose a perfect mother; it was fitting that He should do so; therefore He did choose a perfect Mother.

THE ANGELIC SALUTATION

God Himself, through the mouth of His Archangel Gabriel, has told us that Mary was perfect. “Hail, full of grace, the Lord is with thee: Blessed art thou among women” (Luke i. 28). Catholics do but follow the Archangel’s example when they repeat the prayer wellknown as the “Hail Mary.”

THE SALUTATION OF ELIZABETH

THE SALUTATION OF ELIZABETH

42); and in reply Mary herself was inspired by God to make this prophecy: “For behold from henceforth all generations shall call me Blessed. Because He that is mighty hath done great things to me” (Luke i. 48–49).

Mary then was perfect in the eyes of Almighty God, who is Infinite Purity Itself. She is more worthy of love and honour than any other of God’s creatures. If it is wrong to love and honour Mary in a special way, then surely the words ‘love’ and ‘honour’ have lost their very meaning.

II. SHE IS CHRIST’S MOTHER

Although Jesus Christ was truly God, He was also truly Man; as a man, therefore, He depended on His Mother during His childhood and youth for nurture, training, and education. During the three years of His public life, Christ taught a doctrine which is the admiration even of those who deny His divinity. He went about healing and doing good, and showing men the way of salvation. His preparation for all this was thirty years spent with His Mother at Nazareth.

SHE SHARED IN HIS WORK

Through Mary’s consent when she said to Gabriel, “Be it done to me according to thy word” (Luke i. 38), the Redeemer came down on earth. This consent brought her the immense privilege and honour of the divine motherhood, but it involved also suffering, labour, and tremendous sacrifice. It brought joy with the visit of the shepherds, sent to the Infant Christ by angels singing, “Glory to God in the highest”; joy with the visit of the Wise Men, led from the East by the star. It brought suffering in the flight from Herod to exile in Egypt, sorrow at Calvary when all the disciples but John had fled away and “there stood by the Cross of Jesus, His Mother” (John xix. 25). Then was fulfilled Simeon’s prophecy to Mary: “And thy own soul a sword shall pierce” (Luke ii. 35). Mary, therefore, claims our love since she shared so closely in the joys and sufferings of Him who laid down His life that we might be His friends for all eternity.

III. SHE IS OUR MOTHER

But Mary as the Mother of the Redeemer is more to us than the Mother of our dearest Friend and our greatest Benefactor; she is our Mother as well. Redeemed by the Blood of Christ, we become sons of God by adoption. So we are Mary’s children since we are brethren of Mary’s Son, “the first-born among many brethren” (Rom. viii. 29). It was to this that Christ referred on the Cross when He said to His Mother, “Woman, behold thy son,” and to His disciple, St. John, “Behold thy Mother” (John xix. 26).

SHE IS OUR HELPER

We pray direct to Christ, the One Mediator, but since Mary is our Mother and the Mother of Christ, what wonder if we sometimes pray to her to intercede for us with her Son; for we show special love and honour to Our Lord when we approach Him through the Mother whom He loves so well, and whom He has given to us, to be our Mother also. At her request Jesus performed the first miracle recorded in the Gospels, the changing of the water into wine at Cana (John ii. 3–9). What wonder then, if the sick, the lame, and the blind go to her shrines, at Lourdes and elsewhere, in hope of cure, and when God sees fit, are cured? What wonder then, if millions of Christians daily beg of her, “Pray for us, sinners, now and at the hour of our death?”

Seeing what Mary is, how can we be surprised that all Christians of both East and West, during all the centuries the Church has been in existence, have, with the unhappy exception of the Protestant Reformers in the last four centuries, been jealous of her honour, and have felt that not to love Mary is to fail in love for her Son!

As Cardinal Newman wrote: “If we take a survey at least of Europe, we shall find that it is not those religious communions which are characterised by devotion to the Blessed Virgin that have ceased to adore her Eternal Son. . . . They who were accused of worshipping a creature in His stead, still worship Him; their accusers. . . . have ceased to worship Him altogether.”

CONFESSION

A leaflet for the Non-Catholic

Confession is practised and has always been practised in the Catholic Church. Men whose greatness is recognised by all-thinkers, scientists, and generals, such as Pascal, Pasteur, and Foch-look upon Confession as an excellent and divinely appointed means to salvation.

WHY THEN ALL THESE ATTACKS ON CONFESSION?

Why do men still say it is unmanly and degrading, an incentive to sin, that it weakens character, or is the payment of a fine in order to sin again?

Because they do not realise that Confession is necessary for the forgiveness of serious sin. They do not realise what Confession is, nor what place it has in the life of a Catholic.

IN WHAT SENSE IS CONFESSION NECESSARY FOR THE FORGIVENESS OF SINS? It is necessary because it is the means prescribed by Christ for the forgiveness of sins. The sinner is, indeed, always immediately forgiven when, moved by the Love of God, he repents; but, if he knows that Christ bids him confess all serious sins, he is bound to obey Christ’s bidding.

HOW DOES A CATHOLIC VIEW CONFESSION?

We all have a deep-rooted tendency to do what we like. What we should like to do is often wrong and we know it. If we do it despite this knowledge, then we do wrong-as Catholics say, “we commit sin “we sin. Christ came on this earth, lived, taught, and finally died for us, that His Father might forgive us, in view of His sacrifice and our repentance. This forgiveness, however, was not to be a mechanical one.

THE SINNER’S PART -AND THE PRIEST’S

Before going to Confession, a Catholic must be sorry for all the serious sins he is guilty of; “Against Thee only have I sinned” must be his attitude. He must recall his sins as far as he can remember. He must wish them undone, because they have insulted God’s Majesty and “crucified again Jesus Christ,” through whom he hopes to be saved; or at least he must turn from his sins because he fears the punishments of sin which God has revealed. That done-and it necessarily implies a resolve, with God’s help, to avoid those sins in the future-he goes to the priest as to the doctor of his soul. The priest, like the medical man, has spent years of study before he is qualified to diagnose and cure the ills of the soul; he needs a special “diploma” before he is allowed to do so. But he, like the doctor, must be told what is the matter; then only can he judge of the case and give the kindly advice it needs. Then, satisfied that his patient is sincere and means to amend, he forgives him in God’s name, by the power he has received from Christ. In this case the patient is certain of his cure, for he has God’s assurance of forgiveness, having done his own part. Indeed no consolation is so great as theknowledge that he is “friends with God” once more.

THAT IS THE CATHOLIC IDEA OF CONFESSION- ANY OTHER IS FALSE

CATHOLICS DO NOT PAY TO HAVE THEIR SINS FORGIVEN

If they did, why do priests in crowded parishes remain so poor? The Catholic Church says that even to accept money, freely offered, for Confession would be the grievous sin called “Simony.”

CONFESSION BEING EASY DOES NOT MAKE SINNING ANY EASIER

Many argue that a Catholic may sin more readily because of the knowledge that he can be forgiven so easily. That is obviously untrue. Are there not often men who do wrong because “nobody will ever know,” who yet would think twice if they knew they would have to confess it afterwards? But suppose any particular Catholic should sin the more readily because of “easy confession,” he would show an appalling ignorance of the meaning of Confession. For Confession implies, not a mere recital of sins, but above all a true sorrow for them and a set purpose not to repeat them.

In fact frequent Confession is the best strengthener of the will in its highest endeavours. So that Confession is not unmanly and degrading, for the mere fact of having to tell our failings to a fellow-man makes us face the issue more squarely than when left to ourselves. No ! it is not unmanly, for how often we ourselves use the phrase, “Go on-own up and be a man.”

Some say CONFESSION GIVES THE PRIEST TOO MUCH POWER -ALLOWING HIM TO PRY INTO OUR PRIVATE AFFAIRS.

The priest may not disclose any information received even to save his own or another’s life. He can use that information only to direct this particular individual, and that only in the Confessional. The secrecy to which the priest is bound, under most severe penalties, is called”the seal of Confession,” and is more binding than the obligation of lawyer or doctor to keep professional secrets.

And if he does ask a question, it is only that he may be able to judge better and help.

So that if Confession gives the priest any power it is that of promoting God’s kingdom on earth by healing the sick of soul and giving that spiritual refreshment which Christ Himself promised to those that labour and are burdened.

Confession is an institution so noble that none but God could have conceived and fashioned it. It is God’s own Court of Appeal on earth against the sentence, which, in the nature of things, is passed against the sinner in the moment that he sins. And the priest has full powers from Christ, for He said:”Receive you the Holy Ghost—whose sins you shall forgive, they are forgiven; whose sins you shall retain, they are retained “ (John xx. 21–23).

THE MASS -THE HOLY SACRIFICE

WHAT IS A SACRIFICE?

In the worship of God, man realises his position as a creature of God, as God’s man. He tries to express this realisation, and the expression of it is fourfold. It contains:

1. adoration, the offering of supreme honour to God,

2. the offering of thanks for God’s benefits,

3. the offering of petitions for God’s further help,

4. the offering of satisfaction or atonement, if man has offended God by sin.

Sacrifice, more than anything else, is the way that religious peoples have always used to express all this, and in the Bible (e.g. in the Book of Leviticus) we have the clearest description of sacrifice in practice and as approved by God. The act of sacrifice consists in the offering up to God of a victim in token of man’s complete submission and devotion to God.

WHAT IS A PRIEST?

But men are social beings; they live and act together. It is therefore right that they should worship God not only individually, but collectively as a body. And sacrifice enables man to do this, for it is offered in the name of all those who are present, and is thus a social act.

The Priest is he who offers the common sacrifice for himself and for the community. Only he who has been properly appointed may rightfully act in the name of the rest in offering the victim; and once he has been appointed, he offers not for himself only, but for all whom as priest he represents.

And this brings us to the Mass, for the Mass is the Sacrifice of the Christian Religion.

THE MASS is a sacrifice in which Jesus Christ is the Victim offered up to God in expiation of sin and for man’s salvation.

IT IS the same sacrifice as Christ offered of Himself on Calvary; there it was offered by Him personally in a bloody manner; here it is offered by Him through the ministry of His priests, and under the appearances of bread and wine.

IT IS THE SACRIFICE OF THE NEW LAW, REPLACING AND FULFILLING THE SACRIFICES OFFERED BY THE JEWS OF OLD, WHICH OF THEMSELVES WERE POWERLESS TO ATONE FOR SIN OR TO SAVE A SINGLE SOUL

These statements are made on the authority of the inspired word of God, that is of the Old and New Testament; and they are borne out by the teaching and practice of the Catholic Church from the time of Christ until the present day.

OPEN THE NEW TESTAMENT-AT ST. MATTHEW XXVI. 26–29; ST. MARK XIV. 22–25; ST. LUKE XXII. 19–20; AND ST. PAUL, I COR. XI. 23–26.

What these passages narrate is this:

Jesus Christ, on the eve of His Passion and Death, changed bread and wine into His Body and Blood, and with His approaching death before His mind, offered Himself up thus as a Victim which was to be slain on Calvary for the remission of sins. Then He ordered His Apostles to repeat this act of His “in memory of Me.”

Christ’s words show this very clearly:”This is My body that is given for you;” “This is My blood which is shed for many unto the remission of sins.”

Christ even compares His own sacrificial offering to the sacrifices which used to seal the covenants between God and the Israelites: “This chalice is the New Testament (or covenant) in My Blood.” St. Paul too makes use of the same expressions as Christ:-to “give His body” and to “shed His blood.”

BUT CHRIST ADDED, “DO THIS IN COMMEMORATION OF ME.”

Where and how is that command of Christ carried out? Nowhere except where Christ is again made present under the appearance of bread and wine, and offered up in true sacrifice as the Victim once slain for us on Calvary. It was a command to repeat Christ’s sacrificial offering, as St. Paul says “until He come.” In the Mass, and only in the Mass is this done; in the Mass, the Catholic Church obeys the command of Christ.

NOW OPEN THE OLD TESTAMENT

You will see that even before Christ’s coming it was foretold that He would be offered up as a sacrificial Victim in the Mass. In the Prophecy of Malachy (i. 10–11) we read of God’s refusal to accept the unworthy sacrifices of the Jews, and of a promise of a new and worthy sacrifice, a pure bloodless sacrifice that would be offered everywhere and at all times. The words are clear:

“From the rising of the sun even to the going down, my name is great among the gentiles, and in every place there is sacrifice, and there is offered to my name a clean oblation.”

Has this prophecy never been fulfilled? Never, if not in the Mass, the one rite that fulfils it and fulfils it to the letter. The Mass is offered everywhere and at every moment of the day and night; it is a true sacrificial act; in it is offered a pure Victim, none other than Christ Himself, once really slain for us on the Cross and now offered to God in an unbloody manner by the Church.

Christ is still a Victim in the Mass for He continues to offer Himself there to the Father as the Victim of Calvary. This Victimhood is outwardly symbolised on the altar by the separate consecrations of bread and wine, as though the Body and Blood of Christ were really separated.

Thus the Mass fulfils both the prophecies of the Old Testament and the commands of Christ in the New Testament.

IN THE MASSthe Catholic Church does what Christ enjoined on His apostles. When His words, “This is My body,” “This is My blood.” are spoken by the priest, the bread and wine become in substance the true Body and Blood of Christ. And as He offered Himself in sacrifice on the eve of Calvary, so now He offers Himself again through His priests. And as He gave His Body and Blood to the Apostles, so in the Mass the priest consumes the Body and Blood of Christ and gives it to the faithful who desire to receive it.

IN THE MASS there is not a different sacrifice from that of Calvary. There it was a bloody offering of the Victim; here the same Victim offers Himself, but in an unbloody manner through the ministry of the priest.

IN THE MASS the Church performs the supreme act of Christian worship, the Christian Sacrifice. She solemnly bids her children to be present at it, if they can, every Sunday, and the faithful who unite themselves with that act have the marvellous benefits and graces won for us on Calvary applied to them. They perpetuate, as Christ commanded, His great Sacrifice, “until He come.”

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Catholic Marriage

BY DANIEL A. LORD S.J

INDEX

EVERYONE has heard, I am sure, the story of the elderly lady who, when the newly engaged girl came dashing in radiantly happy to announce her engagement, kissed her gently on the cheek and said, with a slow shake of her head: “My dear, you are very brave.”

That particular lady belonged, it is true, to another generation; her attitude was nevertheless distinctly modern. For to be in the fashion one must be more or less despairful about marriage. All our best writers are. Our best-selling novelist writes his yarn about the fiasco his hero and heroine made of what everyone knew to be a love match. Our widely discussed dramatist makes the slavery of wives and the restless bondage of husbands his favourite theme. Our syndicated writers ask themselves the question:

“Is marriage a failure?” and answer with an unequivocal yes. In fact, while in times past every good story ended with the stereotyped phrase: “They married and lived happy forever after,” nowadays ever so many popular novels begin with:

“They married and lived unhappy forever after.” And where our writers leave off, our judges in the divorce courts or on the juvenile bench begin, burying marriage under an avalanche of disapproval.

All of which goes to show that the most astonishing disbelief in marriage has crept into modern life. People continue to marry as gaily and as lightheartedly as ever, but one widely read author explains that simply enough. Nature, he says, with cruel and purposeful guile tricks unsuspecting young people, through moonlight and the perfume of June roses, dreamy music and bewitching eyes, soft flesh and the transient glory of blonde hair, into an unnatural and horrible state that no two persons in their right minds could be driven with lashes to embrace. That is, of course, only an expansion of the advice of that cynic, Punch, to those about to get married-” Don’t!”

WHO BELIEVES IN MARRIAGE?

“Does anyone nowadays believe in marriage as an institution?” youth naturally asks. Is the beautiful thing called love only a trick to lure victims into a rocky path that leads to the divorce courts? Has no one a good word to say for marriage or love?

That sane and considerate mother of the human race-the Catholic Church-after almost twenty centuries of experience with marriage as an institution, still cherishes it as one of Christ’s special sacraments, a sacred and beautiful thing.

Around marriage the Church throws all the beauty of exquisite ritual and ceremony.

The gates of the communion rail are opened; the bride, dressed in the white of a virgin, is granted the privilege of entering into the very sanctuary; the priest, in his most beautiful vestments, leads the bride and the groom to the foot of God’s altar; Mass is said for them; the Christ who honoured the wedding feast of Cana is brought down from heaven to bless them; the benediction which God poured out upon the holy couples of the Old Law is invoked upon them; and they go forth from the Church with special sacramental grace in their souls to make their new lives holy, happy, rich in God’s favour and in hope for the future.

The Church, which begins the life of a priest with the Mass of his ordination and receives the vows of its nuns before the altar, gives to the bridal couples as they start their married life the same high privileges. Marriage is so sacred that it can properly begin only at the altar. It is so beautiful that Christ can be invited to be the first guest at every Catholic wedding. The Church believes so intensely in the importance of marriage for the human race that the contract is signed and sealed with the sacramental blood of Jesus our Saviour.

ST. PAUL SPEAKS

For the Church remembers that St. Paul, who is often quoted for one phrase:

“It is better to marry than to burn,” paid to marriage the final compliment when he compared the union of a husband and wife to the union of Christ and His Church.

“Husbands,” he writes to the Ephesians, “love your wives as Christ also loved the Church and delivered Himself up for it.

He that loveth his wife loveth himself. For no man ever hateth his own flesh, but nourisheth and cherisheth it, as also Christ doth the Church. . . . This is a great sacrament; but I speak in Christ and in the Church.” (Ephes. v, 22–33.)

No higher compliment can be paid to marriage. It is a sacred union comparable to the union of Christ with His Church. The love that binds a husband and wife should have a tenderness like that of Christ, who died so willingly for the Church He had established. The unbreakable character of marriage is the same as that of the union which binds Christ to His Church all days even to the end of the world.

The Christians whom St. Paul was addressing had heard from the lips of those who had walked with the merciful Christ through the highways of Judaea of the astounding love that Christ had shown for the Church in His miracles, sacraments, promises, and death. So they must have looked on marriage with a reverent awe when they heard the stern Apostle compare the love of husband and wife to the love of Christ for His Church.

So to Catholics marriage is a sacrament, symbolizing beautifully in the love of husband and wife the tenderness with which Christ regarded His spouse, the Church. While to others marriage may become a mere civil contract as prosaic as the making of a will or the taking of a partner into one’s grocery business, to Catholics it is a holy thing, a contract that Christ has transformed into a channel of untold grace for mankind. The Catholic Church believes firmly in the possibilities of so sacred an institution.

And never far from the mind of the Church is the remembrance of the Madonna holding against her heart her infant Son; or that other memory of the Holy Family, the blessed trinity of earth, Joseph, Mary, and the child Jesus, setting the world the pattern of happiness in the home.

In every bride the Church sees a potential Madonna who will mother God’s little ones against her heart. In every bridegroom it sees another Joseph. And when together the young couple build their little home, the Church prays that it will become another Holy House of Nazareth.

ROMANCE AND REALITY

The Church has been called in scorn an idealist, as if that were something to be ashamed of. It is an idealist. A leader that is not an idealist is no leader at all.

The work of a leader is to lift his followers above the low levels they might reach and the ordinary deeds which they might accomplish without him and to make them scale difficult heights and achieve splendid things under his guidance. So the Church, true to its duty of leadership, points out to mankind, not the levels which ordinary men ordinarily can attain, but the splendid heights to which they can aspire and, under its guidance, actually reach. It does not say that everyone will reach the lofty ideals of Catholic marriage. It says: “There are the possibilities for deep happiness, disinterested usefulness, and the blending of joy and holiness. Make those possibilities real. Here is what the union of Christ and the Church symbolizes for married people. Remember and live up to this.”

Yet, for all its ideals, it neither ignores nor dodges facts. It knows from the experience of centuries the facts about marriage and holds them up insistently before the young couple who come seeking its blessing. Marriage, it insists, is one of the most difficult of vocations. Two people of possibly quite different temperaments and tastes, each with a welldeveloped personal character and a will that craves obedience from others and loathes submission for itself, are bound together for life in the most intimate relationships. They see each other under the most trying as well as the most favourable conditions. The strong hero who wooed the maiden with irresistible strength develops a thumping headache or a continued grouch, and he is just a trifle less heroic than a small boy with the mumps. The lovely maiden who always looked like a fresh-blown rose takes to bedroom slippers, an easygoing dressing gown, curlers and a mask of cold cream. The beauty and the gallantry that were so thrilling during the courtship and the honeymoon seem pretty second-rate, often enough, under the cold light of the living-room lamp or the relentless sun that beats down on the family car picnic-bound.

Love is blind, right enough, but it begins to recover its eyesight about the time the bridal bouquet is thrown into the rubbish bin and the groomsman notices the first soot speck on his dress gloves. And when the bridal dress is converted into a serviceable evening gown and the bridal suit makes its first appearance at the office, the romance has settled down to the routine of real life, and love becomes very keen-eyed indeed.

The things that love sees with its newly regained vision may not be very terrible or very glaring. They may be merely a matter of the irritating way in which he breaks open a soft-boiled egg; they may be far more terrifying, for behind a lovely smile may hide a shrewish tongue. Perhaps it has not occurred to the bride that married life will mean getting along on less than she actually had when she lived at home or cashed her own pay cheque. For the groom it may mean a suddenly restricted latchkey or a very limited control over his own purse. Whatever it is that open-eyed love finds, it is often as small but as effective as the dime that obstructs the view of the sun or the irritating cough that makes it so difficult for us to hear the symphony orchestra.

BETWEEN MEN AND WOMEN

Because men and women marry men and women, marriage will always have its man-and-woman limitations. Nothing that mankind does ever remotely approaches perfection, and perfection is not to be demanded or expected of marriage. Man’s pictures fall far short of the landscape they represent; his books only feebly record the great throb of life; his work as a lawyer or a woman’s skill as a musician seldom becomes more than passable; he makes allowances for the carelessness or human frailty of his business partners and employees; she expects of her friends only a limited sympathy and understanding.

Marriage is a contract between men and women who are never superlatively good at anything they attempt and who bring to the contract neither the patience of horses nor the perfect justice of angels. The men and women who expect marriage to be flawless are the very same ones who make mistakes in everything they do, and who, before any enterprise, make allowances for the mistakes that are bound to mess it up.

The Church is not like the average young couple, who come to the altar assured that after the tremulous “I will” will come an unending daydream of limitless happiness in which she will always be the fairy princess whose face does not get red or her nerves frayed even over a gas range, and he will always be her splendid knight riding up on his charger to bring her violets, compliments, and the lamb chops which he never forgets to order.

The Church knows that marriage is as difficult as human nature; more difficult, in fact. It is as difficult as two human natures trying to adjust angles to curves and human loves to human limitations. The Church looks the facts in the face and asks of marriage no more than mankind asks of other human relationships, namely, that it do what it is expected by God to do, as beautifully and as adequately as we humans ever do anything.

LOVE’S UNION

For marriage can be a marvellous romance, the beginning of something wonderful, almost incredibly beautiful. With all its human limitations, it is a splendid adventure of two souls who, as they unite their hands in solemn contract, enter upon an agreement the effects of which may be eternal for themselves and as lasting as the earth itself for the human race.

Love, whatever biologists may care to say of it, makes a man and a woman so important to each other that they cannot any longer live alone. They need each other to complement their individual lives. They hardly dare to face the future deprived of the sympathy, affection, courage, and help which they will find in each other’s company. If they are truly in love, they do not need nature or the Church to teach them to make their vows binding for life. That is their natural impulse; anything less than life seems altogether too short for the term of their partnership. So their love impels them to promise each other a lifetime of fidelity and mutual help. The instincts of the human heart, quite independently of the written laws of God or of the Church, tend to make this marriage contract a contract for life.

GOD SHARES HIS POWER

As for the future of the human race, their contract is of tremendous importance and significance. Into their hands has been placed the very existence of whole generations. Their contract involves the peopling of earth and the filling of heaven with precious souls. For God has given to His creatures a share in His astounding power of creation. He could form bodies, as He formed the body of Adam, from the slime of the earth. Instead, by a splendid act of generosity, He shares His creative power with His creatures and gives to each young couple, facing life so bravely at the moment of marriage, the wonderful power of bringing into the world His sons and daughters.

A mother holds her baby in her arms, looks up to God, and knows that she, by months of suffering and patience, has co-operated with Him in making and bringing into the world a little body housing a priceless soul. A father stands above his new-born son resting in the arms of his wife and knows as he picks him up and weighs him tenderly that he has shared with God the Father His very fatherhood; for this mite of humanity, immortal in destiny, is truly his son. Mother and father together have cooperated with God in the astonishing creation of a human being.

It always overawes us when we pause long enough to realize that God shares His power so liberally with us, His creatures. We marvel that He shares with His priests the power of forgiving sins. We marvel when we realize that as they speak the words of consecration the bread in their hands becomes the body of the Saviour. And through marriage God allows His creatures a power very like the power of creation itself. More than that, He seems to stand waiting for the cooperation of those whom He has made. He looks to men and women to give Him children who will, when their turn comes, carry on the government of His world and who will one day be citizens of His eternal kingdom.

Since men and women have so vast a power, on which depends the future existence of the human race and the filling of heaven itself, we can better understand why God and the Church regard marriage as so sacred and serious an institution, why Christ honoured a wedding with His first miracle and raised marriage to the dignity of a sacrament, and why the Church throws around it every safeguard that her inspired wisdom can devise. Life is a sacred thing, and marriage is the gateway to life; eternity is the prime concern of time, and marriage is God’s way of bringing into the world the souls that are to share His eternity. Marriage is as sacred, then, as life and as important as human souls.

THIS WAY HAPPINESS

In spite of all its trials, marriage promises to the young couple happiness in abundance. There is the first happiness of home making and the supreme joy that comes when they look upon their firstborn and know it to be theirs. Strength comes of working out together life’s problems and of “halving sorrow and doubling joy by sharing them.” Pride thrills them as their sons grow strong and their daughters charming. Courage springs from knowing that they do not work nor walk alone. Then, when their work is largely done and their children go off to found their own families or give themselves to God, they feel the calm happiness of turning their faces towards heaven with the sense of a gathered harvest, full granaries, and their Master waiting to bless them for a crowded and useful life.

All that has here been said of marriage indicates quite clearly that the Catholic brings to it a viewpoint singularly beautiful and singularly his own. Unbelievers quite naturally look with suspicion on marriage and question it. For that matter, they look with suspicion on life itself, for which marriage is the gateway, and shrug their shoulders at the idea of immortal souls. It would be surprising if they appreciated the tremendous power sanctioned through marriage. They do not admit a Creator, and hence they can hardly be expected to understand what is meant by the creature’s sharing in His act of creation. Life to an unbeliever is a meaningless, purposeless jumble, and he regards with necessary contempt the institution which carries life on.

If to him life has any purpose, it is the mere gratification of fleshly instincts, with the concomitant bringing forth into the world of a race as transient as the butterflies of a summer day, a race that does its silly dance macabre on the brink of an open grave. Why should unbelievers regard with reverence an institution that propagates life when life to them is only the brief interlude between deaths? They cannot see anything very sacred in the bodies that are so closely kin to animals, and they admit no immortal soul designed by God for an unending heaven.

A DIFFERENT LANGUAGE

Catholics cannot talk with unbelievers about marriage in the same terms; for they fundamentally disagree with them about life itself and the meaning of life; and marriage is the door through which life enters the world. For Catholics, children have their importance because of their souls-souls so precious that Christ died for them. Unbelievers, who deny souls and question the value of Christ’s death, would be illogical if they regarded children as having an eternal value.

Most men and women marry. God and nature intended that they should. The future of the human race depends upon their responding to this perfectly natural impulse. Fortunately for the human race God gives a large number of Catholics the higher call of consecration to His service, and they take the vow of chastity, which makes them one of the greatest safeguards of Christian marriage. That vow of chastity taken by thousands of men and women is one of the most splendid contributions to the sanctity of marriage. Young men and women, surrounded by temptations before marriage, remember that it is possible for human beings to be pure even to the extent of taking a vow of chastity, and that gives them courage to fight their passions. Married men and women, when they find their affections or thoughts wandering, draw inspiration from the priests and nuns who have vowed to go through life in complete detachment from the joys of marriage. Catholic consecrated chastity is one of the strongest bulwarks protecting the sanctity and security of marriage.

THE SIN AGAINST YOUTH

Since most men and women are expected to marry, youth is largely a preparation for the day when they will take a partner for the great work of life. They are actually waiting, perhaps unconsciously, for the love that will make them eager to marry, to found a home, and to give God the children for which He is waiting.

Because of this the Church insists so strongly on the purity of its young people. Youth is the period of preparation for marriage; the purity of young people is the guarantee of future happy marriages. They must not turn to base purposes the power that God gave them for high and sacred ends. They may not squander their power of love on chance acquaintances or casual corners when that love is meant some day to be the greatest natural influence in their lives. Even in their thoughts they must regard themselves and those whom they meet as sacred and the power that God meant to be used through the sacrament of matrimony as a splendid and holy thing.

If the modern world is guilty of any heinous sin against the race, that sin is the sin against youth. Deliberately, viciously, it has set itself to persuade young people that there is something essentially amusing or funny or unimportant about the waste of love and the misuse of God’s communicated power. It presents love as a light and trivial thing that can be squandered or flung away without regret; what was once called sin is not important; the silly and sinful loves towards which youth feels drawn can be admitted without harm. In the new order of things, self-restraint is out of date, and promiscuous kissing, the sacred signs of affection, the beautiful intimacies of married life, are thought quite allowable to the unmarried.

But a new order of things cannot diminish either the sacredness of marriage or its importance for the future of the world. And an attitude which makes love common, even where there may be no serious sin, is an attitude that does terrible damage to the human race. Young people who fling their love and the signs of love to every chance corner are killing the possibility of their ever loving deeply and truly. Young men come to marriage soiled and sullied, asking and expecting of the girl they marry a purity that they themselves are not able to give. Young women, even when they stay clear of the depths, allow their love to become staled and themselves to become shopworn by yielding to any passing fancy that may attract them.

It is perfectly natural that a world that thinks slightingly of marriage and simply forgets its sacred character should think conduct before marriage unimportant. Experience shows how important it is. The young man and woman who bring to marriage a fresh, unspoiled love and hearts that have not grown old in sin, who realize the sacredness of marriage and the greatness of their responsibilities and privileges, have everything in their favour. Marriage for them should be and probably will be happy. They can look into each other’s eyes without seeing there the troubled remembrance of sinful loves. They can some day look into the calm faces of their children and ask them to lead sweet, clean lives without the fear that their children’s scrutiny may discover the fact that they are asking what they never practised. People who regard love lightly before marriage are likely to regard it lightly after marriage. If an errant affection is lawful before, it will be lawful after. If love was squandered on anyone who asked for it, on the boy one met at the dance or the girl whom one took home from the party, it will not be so likely to be content with the monotony of one partner in the narrow confines of a restricting home.

FOOLS RUSH IN

Marriage is so serious and important a thing that rushing into it on a day’s acquaintance is one of the most striking instances of how insane human beings can become. A susceptible young man meets a girl who looks so pretty as she listens in rapt wonder to his words of wisdom that one perfect afternoon with her at the seashore convinces him that she is the only woman fit to share life’s trials and tribulations with him. He forgets that a seashore is not exactly like a bungalow and that he is not even sure whether the peaches-andcream complexion is nature’s gift or art’s contribution. Nevertheless they dash off, buy their marriage licence, and, without any real knowledge of each other, bind themselves for life.

No wonder that such impromptu marriages end wretchedly. A man who would take into his business, on equal terms and with full responsibilities and privileges, the attractive stranger who talked so entertaingly in the smoking room would rightly be committed to the care of his relatives. Yet we see young men and women actually giving more care and attention to the selection of a motor car or a golf partner or a hat than they do to the choice of a wife or a husband.

At least a three weeks’ delay before marriage is demanded by the wise old Church. Impetuous youth must wait until the banns have been read, much as it may chafe at the delay. There is something pathetically funny about the young people who so deeply resent the three weeks’ delay imposed by the Church. Three weeks in which to test love that must last through life seems unbearable; yet nuns spend six months of probation and at least another year of novitiate before they are permitted to take the first temporary vows of religion.

THE TRAGEDIES OF YOUTH

If Catholic young people stopped for just long enough to realize that the marriage they are entering is for life, that the glamour of courtship and honeymoon lasts for a day, while marriage lasts for years, they would hesitate before bolting wildly into marriage. For anyone with any experience at all knows how really seldom a boy or a girl marries the first person he or she has fallen in love with. Oh, the terrible tragedies of seventeen-year-old boys and girls who are so desperately in love that their parents seem like veritable tyrants when they are not all enthusiastic about an immediate wedding! They are so deep in the drama of their love that they grow sick with chagrin and thwarted hope when cruel delays keep them back from turning their drama into life. Then, after the lapse of six months or less, the “great love of their lives” has been forgotten or swallowed up in a new love quite as consuming, quite as hopeless, quite as certain of lasting forever. When this happens, as it does in almost every case, they do not thank the parents whose wise delays kept them from turning a charming comedy into a terrible tragedy. They are only hurt and chagrined once more to find that their parents and the priest they consult are not impressed with the new but again absolute necessity of rushing headlong into marriage.

Time is not always to be measured by days. In the case of acquaintanceship before marriage it is measured in opportunities for really knowing the person who is to sit across the breakfast table, occupy the same small house, and share one’s sympathies, trials, joys, and sorrows for the rest of life. We do not get to know anyone at a dance or a weekend house party, or even in six months of friendship during which party manners and the sweetest smiles alone are allowed to appear. We only know people when we see them off-guard in their own homes.

A girl can tell pretty much how the man will treat his wife if she finds out how he treats his mother. He is not likely to be sweet and considerate to the woman he marries if he snubs his mother, disregards her feelings, sacrifices her consistently to his caprice, and is utterly selfish and sullen in her house. By seeing a girl’s attitude towards the home in which she has lived from infancy a man can tell quite clearly the attitude she will take towards the home he hopes to give her. If her present home is a mere lighting perch where she pauses in flight as she dashes to and from the places that really interest her, if she is sulky and bad-tempered at home, candidly hates housework, and throws all she can of it on the shoulders of her mother, she will not make much of a wife. In her own little flat she is not likely to be content to “stick around all the time”; she will not develop a sudden and charming sweetness and contentment after years of discontent; unwashed dishes will not take on a sudden splendour in her own sink nor will she be any more cheerful over her own little gas range than she was in the family kitchen. Marriage does not work any miracles in dispositions, and we only know dispositions when we see them without the defences of studied politeness and a careful guard. The lovers’ defences are oftenest down in their own homes. Study that polite youth or that sweet maiden there.

THE UNCROSSABLE BAR

Almost any lack of common interest may, with mutual patience and the blessing of children, be bridged except the fundamental disagreement on religion.

When the Church legislates about mixed marriages, its motive is not a selfish one. Of course the record of mixed marriages is open to all who read; they are the greatest source of loss to the Church both of the Catholic parties to the marriage and of their children. AU-important as this is to the Church that loves the faith of its members, yet the Church goes beyond this consideration and thinks of the unhappiness which mixed marriages so often bring to the parties concerned.

Catholics who marry Catholics may find unhappiness. But Catholics who marry non-Catholics are opening for themselves much greater possibilities for unhappiness. And this is true for purely natural reasons. It is true that only a marriage between Catholics can begin at the altar, with Christ offered up for them in the Nuptial Mass and the blessing of God and the Church formally given to them as they kneel before the priest. The absence of this deprives the young couple of much supernatural help. But that is not precisely the point.

Religion is so fundamental a thing that difference here means the widest separation of minds and sympathies on a large group of essentials. If the non-Catholic is a Protestant or a Jew, he gives his allegiance to a system which denies flatly beliefs which the Catholic holds to be essential. That means that in the family, whenever the subject of religion comes up, there must be either deliberate and skilful avoidance of the subject or disagreement and dispute. If the non-Catholic is simply an unbeliever, the things nearest and dearest to the heart of the Catholic mean absolutely nothing to him. Again silence or controversy are the only alternatives, and peace must be maintained by dropping out of the couple’s mutual life the very thing most vital to the Catholic. Christ, the soul, eternity, the Church, the sacraments, are subjects simply taboo in their home.

LONELINESS

Loneliness is never easy to bear, but the Catholics who marry non-Catholics will face long and dreary periods of loneliness. They rise on Sundays or holy days and go off to Mass alone. Alone they kneel at the altar rail. They must find a time for confession that will not interfere with the plans of their partners. Christmas and Easter and the great feasts have an entirely different meaning for them, and they must keep their true celebration to themselves. Alone they go to Benediction or to the parish Mission. Even the social life of the parish is hardly open to them, for their non-Catholic husbands and wives would not feel at home in a thoroughly Catholic gathering. A Catholic triumph occurs; tact and consideration for the convictions of the other or the fear of precipitating a controversy keeps the subject locked up in the Catholic’s mind. A difficulty or misrepresentation is broadcast in the papers; the Catholic and the non-Catholic, because of tradition and instinct, find themselves on different sides.

Then, as the children come, new difficulties ruffle married life. If the non-Catholic party remembers the solemn promises made before the wedding and keeps the plighted word, the Catholic is indeed spared much pain; there is none of the quarrelling and heartbreak that comes to a Catholic when, because of relentless opposition, the baptism of the child is long delayed, his First Communion made difficult, and his Catholic education positively forbidden. But under the best of conditions the whole religious side of the child’s life, so vital to the Catholic, means nothing to the non-Catholic, and one of the most beautiful bonds that unite parents, sympathy in the education and training of their children, is simply missing. Baptism, which to the Catholic is an act of tremendous importance, is more or less unimportant to the non-Catholic. The beautiful and solemn moment of the child’s First Communion is without real significance to one of the parents. Though the question of Catholic education may find the non-Catholic yielding, none of the real reasons that make the Church keep God in its schools are either known or understood by him. And as the child grows, he begins to regard his non-Catholic parent with bewildered astonishment; he is taught that certain things are essential in their religious importance, while all the time he sees that they mean less than nothing to his own father or mother. A new rift has come to split the family.

NO COMMON VIEWPOINT

Religion is not the only subject that divides the minds and hearts of the parties to a mixed marriage. The very nature and meaning of marriage is subject for disagreement. The last twenty years have seen outside the Church the most astonishing change in the attitude towards marriage. To the Catholic, marriage is a sacrament; to the non-Catholic it is merely a civil contract or a religious ceremony without real significance. To the Catholic it is something that cannot be broken but must last as long as both parties are alive; to the vast majority of non-Catholics it is something that may be terminated by the very simple act of the divorce court. To the Catholic the primary purpose of marriage is to bring children into the world, and the frustration of this purpose is grievously sinful. Is it necessary to point out how widespread is the belief, expressed sometimes as freely by ministers as by unbelieving scientists, that one is quite free to have children or not, just as one chooses and the circumstances of the case warrant? And if one party wants children and the other does not, the misunderstandings, bitterness, strife, and actual split that follow are known only to a priest, who has heard the heart-broken stories of Catholic husbands and wives married to non-Catholic partners.

CHRIST’S MARRIAGE LAWS

For the Catholic, almost alone in this modern world, sees marriage, not through the eyes of some experimenter, but through the eyes of Christ Himself. And Christ’s statement about divorce was certainly unmistakeable and almost brutally outspoken. “Whosoever shall put away his wife and marry another committeth adultery against her. And if the wife shall put away her husband and be married to another, she committeth adultery” (Mark x, 11, 12). Clearer words were never spoken, and in the face of them our courts grinding out divorces on any sort of pretext, from badly boiled eggs to adultery, are a direct denial to the Christianity of the law. Those who perform the marriage ceremonies of divorced people will have a hard time explaining to Christ just how they fail to co-operate with what He called by the unpleasant name of adultery.

The justification given to this clear setting aside of Christ’s command is always the same : He could not have understood modern conditions; He was legislating for another age and for conditions far less difficult than ours. To say that Christ did not understand modern conditions is simply to deny that He was God or to say that the New Testament was something not intended for all mankind but for a handful of Jews living in Palestine.

As for our times being so much more difficult than those in which He lived, the fact is that He was flinging the gauntlet directly into the face of His contemporaries. Even had He been merely a human legislator, He could have seen all about Him the effects of easy and universal divorce. The divorce mills of Rome ground more furiously than the divorce mills of modern Paris or Mexico. Divorce was a common practice among the Jews. Even had He been merely a man, wisdom and experience would have shown Him that divorce had utterly failed to give happiness to the human race. The one hope He could see lay in a law that would make marriage a sacred and unbreakable union. Had He been merely a wise and experienced man He would have laid down this law.

But He was more than man, and He was making a law that would fit into His complete plan for the uplifting and sanctification of the human race. We can guess the astonishment of His times and how startling was the doctrine He preached from the fact that even His disciples answered Him with an aghast “Then it is not expedient to marry!” His contemporaries were quite as unwilling as the divorce-mad moderns to accept His law that man and wife are one flesh united in a bond that only God can break.

DENYING LIFE TO LITTLE ONES

No one is obliged to marry. God and nature left that quite clearly a matter of free choice. But when one pronounces the marriage vows, one accepts inescapable obligations. A man and his wife, it is true, may take a vow or agree to live as virgins, but if there is no vow or no intention to practise self-restraint, they must accept whatever children God sends them. Strange, isn’t it, that children, who since the dawn of history have been regarded as the greatest blessing given a married couple, should now be regarded with suspicion and dislike? Perhaps it is not so strange; pagan, pleasure-loving generations in Greece and Rome formed something of the same conspiracy which has been launched so vigorously through the world today to keep children out of God’s universe.

Our space is too short to allow us even to touch on the reasons which have made the Church fight so vigorously against this conspiracy. The conspiracy aims to persuade people that a crime against God and their own nature is quite permissible and justifiable. The false principle of which the Jesuits have been accused is being used now by the enemies of morality. They say that birth control is morally right simply because it is useful and expedient. A thing that is bad may, it seems, become good because it serves a good purpose; or the end justifies the means. Because the poor seem materially poorer when they have many children, because by children the rich are deprived of the leisure they might otherwise have, the thing which Roosevelt called race suicide is permissible!

When the earliest book of the Scriptures was written, God gave us the story of the first recorded instance of this crime, branded it once and for all as a horrible thing, and struck dead the man who perpetrated it. For it takes the noblest natural power that God has shared with man, the power of creation, and turns it into a means of mere sensual pleasure. It lowers wives to the level of harlots and knocks down the barriers raised for youth by the fear of the consequences of sin. It is, according to the best physicians, the cause of nervous disorders, cancers, and mental disease. And, like all noble things perverted, it leads to spiritual unhappiness. Where the husband and wife are deliberately shutting out of their lives their responsibilities to the human race, depriving God of the human souls which He expects to obtain through human marriages, and shutting the door of life in the face of unborn children, they can hardly expect that their marriage will be happy or sacred in the eyes of God or men.

In fact, if before marriage a couple agree to such a course, they are not, in the eyes of the Church, really married at all. Marriage is a contract, and a contract is not valid if the primary purpose of that contract is violated by those who make it.

THE GLORY OF CHILDREN

Of course children are often a trial and always a responsibility. Nothing that is precious or important is cheaply had or easily kept. Men can only stand reverently before the anguish which the birth of a child costs the mother. The agony through which she passes is in proportion to the importance of the soul which she is bringing to life. Christ paused to pay tribute to the woman who, while she was in labour, mourned, but who saw her sorrow turned into joy when her child had been born into the world. Because of their travail and because of the courage which they display through it, mothers have been regarded as heroically splendid.

Of course the education of children means that the father must deprive himself of luxuries and often of necessities, and that the mother must give her time and thought and leisure with unstinted devotion, cut down her legitimate opportunities for pleasure, and, often enough, see her beauty fade and her youth slip by too swiftly. If what they were doing was giving life to purposeless creatures of time, unimportant puppets of chance, animals not so much more perfect than their cousins or brothers the apes, no one would dare to ask them to make these sacrifices for the sake of the children. But since their children are so precious that Christ holds them in His arms, that God the Father adopts them as His own children at the baptismal font, that the Holy Ghost chooses their bodies for His dwelling place, and that they will live immortal citizens of God’s kingdom, nothing is too much to expect, no sacrifice is too great to make for these astonishing objects of God’s love.

A HAPPY ROAD THROUGH LIFE

What, then, shall the young Catholic man or woman think of marriage? Simply this: Catholicmarriage is God’s own sacrament, sacred as is the union of Christ and His Church. It is God’s way of sharing with mankind His astonishing creative power. It can be and often is the union of two hearts who love each other at first passionately, then sympathetically, then with the affection of kindred interests, and finally with quiet gratitude and understanding. It is the union of two wills which strengthen and support each other against the trials and disappointments of life. Because of this union two people gain the strength that one of them alone would not possess; they find greater depths of happiness and lesser depths of sorrow. It is the splendid avenue by which little children enter the world to take up life in the antechamber to God’s heaven. It is the foundation of that home which God meant to be the training school for morality and holiness, the drill grounds of His little soldiers, the strong fortress against evil and sin.

After all, the best viewpoint from which to look at marriage is not that of the young couple looking forward towards marriage while all the brightness of the morning sun covers with false colours and hides under dazzling light the roughness of the road and the spearpoints of the enemy. The best viewpoint is that of the old couple who, just before they hear the Master’s summoning call, look back along the road they have travelled. Was it rough? It did not seem nearly so rough when they were leaning heavily upon each other. Were there threatening enemies in the way? They faced these enemies with stronger courage because they fought side by side.

And who are those stalwart young men swinging so confidently along the same road? One of them holds a baby on his left arm, while his right circles the waist of his wife. One wears the habit of a priest. Another stops on his way to minister to the sick and wounded. One, alas has strayed from the straight road, but even now turns back towards it because of the remembered vision of his father and mother. These are their sons marching on their way to God. And who are these girls, one of them looking so like the Madonna, the other wearing the habit of a nun? They are their daughters, sweet and pure and lovely in a world that needs fair womanhood.

Then, as the voice of the Master sounds softly calling them, they turn with clasped hands, this old couple, to go towards Him. But as they go, they look with calm, undisturbed, firetempered love into each other’s eyes and know that life has been holier, sweeter, more courageous because of the vows they took before the altar on the day of their wedding. Then, with the calm confidence of those who have lived well and achieved nobly and left behind them the record of crowded lives, they pass into the presence of that Christ who was the first guest at the wedding feast, the Lover of little children.

Nihil Obstat:

D.P. Murphy.

Censor Deputatus.

Imprimatur:

@ Daniel Mannix,

Archiepischopus Melbournensis.

********

Catholic Training of Children

BY RAOUL PLUS, S.J

A TRANSLATION FROM THE FRENCH

AN EXCERPT FROM “CHRIST IN THE HOME”

INDEX

TRAINING THE ADOLESCENT

To TRAIN little ones is difficult enough. When these little ones grow up the difficulty of educating them grows with them.

There is a particular age-between thirteen and seventeen- when the rise of new energies generally produces a crisis. The child is no longer a child; neither is he a grown-up. He is in a period of transition which we must not fear but which we must consider sympathetically; it is a time when we should be ever ready to come to his help at opportune moments.

It is also a time when restraints weigh upon him. Until now the child did not distinguish his individual identity much from those about him. What they thought and felt he was satisfied to feel and think in perfect harmony. But now his personality is emerging. Before this it was indistinct. Oh yes, at times traits of it would shine out and predict the future character but it was only a faint sketch. Now the design takes form and definite lines.

It is thrilling to see the dawn of manhood and womanhood in the young as they rise up to meet life. It is depressing to think of possible deformations! A design can so easily change into a caricature!

There is no question now of a dead image on inert paper! We are concerned with an animated potentiality, with an intense dynamism-a soul seeking itself. It is like a person lost in the night groping about here and there to find the right road. We can speak to the adolescent, guide him, but nothing takes the place of personal experience and it means much to allow the young the liberty to try their luck.

Even as a baby, as soon as he takes his first steps, the child uses all its baby strength to pull away from its mother. The mother had until then held him in her arms. But one day she put him down so that he could learn to stand and to put one foot before the other. As soon as he learnt this new game the little one is ready for his first expedition. And what mother, even though she rejoices at the prowess of the young explorer, does not suffer when she realizes that her arms and her heart can no longer hold back this little conqueror already setting out to meet life?

As the adolescent boy or girl grows older the span of their investigation widens. There is the immense field of their own individuality. How many realities, how many mysteries they encounter at every step! Fortunate that youth who, avid until now to ask questions, remains willing to ask some still! He wants to learn certainly, even more than ever before, only he wants to learn by himself so he withdraws into himself to solve his problems. Who could ever know as he does his little domain; he is jealous of it; he closes his arms about his riches; he yields to no one the right to violate his treasure.

We should not be astonished at this but stimulate their research unobtrusively, provide them, without appearing to do so, with the means to solve their problems; we should not pry into their confidence but rather cleverly inspire and provoke it. Let them realize that mother and father themselves formerly discovered this whole world that challenges their discovery; that mother and father can therefore serve as prudent but well-informed advisers to the young novices of life.

Then there is the whole world outside of themselves-the frame of their life, their surroundings, and other people; that is quite a universe. What is the significance of such a smile, such a silence, such an action? They thought everyone was good-that was a mistake! They thought that life was conquered without difficulty-they have to struggle hard: How much work to learn the least thing!

And then the whole domain of religion. It was all so simple formerly. Now there are problems on every side. And love? This whole transformation that they sense within themselves? Those impulses of feeling? Those sensations never before experienced, organic phenomena whose nature and reason they do not know?

We need great sympathy before their laborious and often worried seeking and also much vigilance mingled with a gentle firmness, high moral principles, and exceptional psychological insight almost bordering on prophecy. Above all we need much prayer.

GIRLS VERSUS BOYS (1)

THE training of adolescence ought to make much allowance for the difference between the sexes and for the difference of individual temperaments within each sex.

The boy as he grows older becomes more and more individualistic. Everything exists for him. His little person makes itself conspicuous without fear. He loves to make noise not only because of his love for activity but also to assert his presence. In games he likes to direct and if he envisions the future he always sees himself in the role of a leader. . . .

He must be taught that other people exist and what is more, that he has the duty not only to refrain from harming them but to help them. Every opportunity for him to render service should be used to advantage-to take care of his little sisters gallantly and willingly, to run on errands for father or mother or someone else in the household. The boy and later the man is a great egoist. It is wise to counteract very early this tendency of his to make himself the center of interest, to turn his attention to careers of devoted self-sacrifice, to impress him with the repercussions his actions have upon others and to enlighten him on his duty to give much since he has received much and to penetrate him with the realization that he has a responsibility toward his own.

The little girl as she advances toward womanhood-and this begins quite early-very quickly becomes conscious of herself as part of a relationship. She feels herself physically weaker than her brothers and her powers of feeling orientate her even at that early age whether she is aware of it or not, toward love-in the beginning toward the couple “mamma and baby” but later toward the couple “husband and wife.”

Much less individualistic than the boy-although she can be so in her own way and sometimes fiercely so-she is above all family-minded. She loves to rock the baby, to help her mother. If she prefers one study more than another, history, literature or mathematics, it is more often because of the teacher who teaches it than the subject itself. Early in the little girl’s life are verified the words of George Sand concerning woman, “Behind the things that she loves there is always someone.”

Because of the complexities of feeling, the education of the adolescent girl is more delicate and more difficult than the education of the adolescent boy. The boy is more heavy, more blunt, more matter of fact, less given to fine distinctions; the phenomena of puberty are more tardy in him and are generally not at all or scarcely ever accompanied by any fits of feeling but rather a mere hunger for sensations: he is still the individualist.

Because of her periods, a phenomenon which often troubles the adolescent girl even after its mysterious significance has been chastely and adequately explained to her, she becomes more curious and uneasy about all that bears on the problem of life and is much more susceptible to emotional unbalance and the fascination of abandoning herself to daydreams than a boy of her age. If the adolescent boy is healthy, he doesn’t indulge in dreaming; he makes noise or pulls all kinds of pranks. The girl, even when she loves study, loves still other things and she is much attracted by the perspective of an eventual giving of herself.

Beautiful is the task of giving her a clear idea of her essential vocation; to guard her from false notions; to get her to be diligent in the tasks of the moment, her house duties and school assignments; to direct her need for unreserved giving so that what is but a vague instinct within her becomes translated into terms of clear duty; to impress her with the immense responsibility of having been chosen to give life unless God chooses her to renounce this power, for love of Him, in virginity.

GIRLS VERSUS BOYS (2)

EVERYDAY experiences give many examples of the distinctive differences between the two sexes especially during their adolescence: the egocentric interests of the boy, the self-radiating tendencies of the girl. The boy thinks about his future exploits; the girl dreams of possible children. In the one, love of glory; in the other love of love itself.

The following bit of conversation between two sisters is in itself an amusing commentary on feminine adolescent psychology.

“What are you thinking of,” the twelve year old asked her fifteen year old sister, “of your future husband?”

“A husband,” protested the elder, “I am too young. I have a lot of time before I begin thinking of a husband!”

“Well then what are you thinking about?”

“I was planning what kind of trimmings I would have on my wedding dress.”

Even when we take into account the differences created by nature between boys and girls, we still must make allowances for different temperaments within the sexes. Each child lives in a world of his own, in a world that is strangely different from the world of those about him. With one individual maternal influence will have greater force; with another, paternal influence. One child may have vigorous health, whereas another is delicate. In the one a melancholy temperament may predominate; in another, the exact opposite, the sanguinic with extrovert tendencies conspicuous. One child may be calm and poised; another, a little bundle of nerves . . . Consequently, if the educator has but one method of dealing with all, a single and only method, he can expect to meet with disappointments.

However in providing for these individual differences a real problem must be faced: It is not sufficient to correct the one child and refrain from correcting the other; to congratulate the one and ignore the success of the other and so on through all the possible variations that might be in order. All this must be done while preserving the impression of treating all alike. If children perceive, as they sometimes do with reason, that there is partiality shown to one or other of the family, authority is broken down, jealousy enters and soon constant wrangling results.

The ideal is to maintain poise, serenity, evenness of temper, and a steadiness of behavior that nothing can upset.

Superiors of religious orders are advised to make use of a practice which is beneficial for all-an honest examination periodically of their faithful fulfilment of the trust confided to them. Have I given evidence of any partiality or any unjustifiable toleration of wrong? Have I seen to it that the rules have been observed, the ways of customs of the order and its holy traditions held in honor?

In what way are things not going as they should? One can pass quickly over what is as it should be, thanking God humbly for it but direct attention by choice to what is defective and faulty to determine to make the necessary corrections either in one’s person or one’s work. Mussolini’s comment has a point here: “It is useless to tell me about what is going along well. Speak to me immediately of what is going badly.”

If only parents would make it a habit to practice this counsel suggested to monks: Stop a moment to observe the train pass; look to see if the lighting functions, if the wheels are well oiled, if there is any need to fear for the connections. People do that from time to time in regard to their personal life and we call it a Retreat. It is strongly advisable to make a retreat to examine oneself on the conduct and management of the home, of one’s profession; such a retreat should be sufficiently frequent to prevent painful surprises.

Our Lord said that when one wishes to build a tower, he sits down to calculate the cost and requirements for a solid structure. What a tower is the Christian home! That is something to construct! How necessary are foundations that will not crumble, materials that will hold solidly! How essential an able contractor, attention to every detail, care to check every stone, exactitude in the measurements for every story . . . !

Perhaps I have forgotten to sit down . . . to calculate . . . to get on my knees. There is still time!

A FATHER”S LETTER

RACINE the great classic dramatist wrote a letter to his son urging him to complete fidelity in his religious duties and to love for the interior life.

“You beg me to pray for you. If my prayers were good for anything you would soon be a perfect Christian, who hoped for nothing with more ardor than for his eternal salvation. But remember, my Son, that the father and mother pray in vain for their children if the children do not remember the training their parents gave them. Remember, my Son, that you are a Christian, and think of all that character makes of obligation for you, all the passions it requires you to renounce. For what would it benefit you to acquire the esteem of men if you would jeopardize your soul? It will be the height of my joy to see you working out your salvation. I hope for it by the grace of Our Lord.”

When Racine was thirty-eight and at the height of his power, his religious directors through the misguided zeal of their Jansenistic spirit commanded him to give up writing for the theatre which he did with untold pain. Consequently, when he spoke to his son of the practice of renunciation, he could speak with authority.

Especially sensitive to physical suffering, he accepted sickness humbly and generously: “I have never had the strength to do penance; what an advantage then for me that God has had the mercy to send me this.”

It is a great grace for children to have a father who teaches the divine law with firmness, and who moreover lives this divine life, joining personal example to precept.

Am I sufficiently attentive to give my children the supernatural equipment they need? Am I sufficiently careful about that still more important duty of giving them a good example always and in everything.

If there was too muchseverity in Racine’s manner it was due to his own training at Port-Royal, the Jansenist center. When his brother Lionval was only five years old he insisted that he would never go to the theatre for fear of being damned. Madelon, at ten years had to observe Lent to the very end even though she felt ill because of it. The mother kept them in step. Did she not command young Louis Racine who had indulged in writing about twelve stanzas of poetry on the death of a dog to betake himself to Boileau for a good scolding?

There must be no exaggeration in the exercise of authority; it would no longer be Christian in character but an erroneous way of understanding the morality and perfection of the Gospel. It is essential to retain a zealous will on the part of the children and a courageous practice of generosity. We must however always remember that they are children and not impose upon them too heavy a yoke thereby running the danger of giving them an incorrect idea of religion or of disgusting them even with its most balanced practice.

We must be mindful too that some day they will be confronted with fearful difficulties. They will need a training that is not harsh but strong otherwise we can fear shipwreck or at least ineffective returns.

If my profession or my health prevent me from fasting, am I careful to get a dispensation, to substitute another mortification for it, to manifest an exemplary moderation on all occasions, in general, a real detachment from food and body comforts; to deny myself amusements that might prove dangerous?

MISUNDERSTOOD CHILDREN

ANDRE BERGE in his book on “Bewildered Youth” gives us the story of a young man who had been left completely to himself by his parents. Taken up with their own affairs, business and pleasure, these parents let their son grow up with no concern at all for his soul, his ambitions, his difficulties, his temptations, his failings.

At first, the youth relished this liberty which he interpreted as reserve on the part of his parents. But soon he came to realize that it was nothing more than cowardice, abandonment of duty and flagrant desertion of obligation on their part; he was living in the home but was not of the home—a mere boarder in a hotel. As soon as he was out of his childhood, they showed no more care for him; he found himself confronting life alone, confused, cut off. He should have been able to expect counsel, affection, protection, light. Nothing of the sort did he receive. Instead he met with selfishness; faced by loneliness, life began to pall upon him; he had no one to untangle his problems, no one to point out definite steps to follow on the bewildering way.

Unable to bear living any longer in this way with no vital ties binding him to those who should have been nearest to him, he decided to break all connections, to go away. Material separation from his own would but serve to accentuate the separation of their souls.

He left this note as an explanation of his conduct and a reproach for theirs:

“To my parents,

“Why do you desert me? You do not understand that I am stifled between these walls and that my heart is bursting. Do you not understand that I am growing up and that life is calling me, that I am alone all day with its voice? You who could have so lovingly directed me in life, why do you abandon me?

“Well, so much the worse, I will meet life alone. I am so far from you already through your fault.”

How heavy the obligations of parents! Let us not consider now the case of grossly selfish parents as described in the preceding story. We shall consider parents who are concerned about accomplishing their mission.

Are they not in danger of two extremes in the fulfilment of their duty: either to exaggerate their control or to exaggerate their reserve.

If they try to exercise too much control over the young adventurers in freedom who are making ready for their first flights will they not incur the blame of tyranny, excessive watchfulness and supervision?

If, on the other hand, they try to avoid this reproach, are they not going to lack firmness? By trying to win confidence through a gentleness that gives free rein are they not going to see all the restraints which they deem good broken down and the advice they judge opportune utterly ignored?

How have I succeeded in this problem of training? Do I steer my bark with proper mastery? The reefs are many; a solid craft is needed, a steady hand at the helm. Am I acquainted with the route, the true merits of my crew?

My God grant me the grace to know how to rear my little world as you want me to; to know how to form each of my children according to Your plans; to know how to attain balance in sharpness, firmness and restraint. Grant that the youth formed in my home may never be confused, lost before life but rather know always where to find counsel, support, the warmth of love and guidance, an understanding and patient heart that can give help with enlightened insight.

A DEFAULTING FATHER

A RELIGIOUS was trying to extricate a young man of twenty-two from a distressing and almost insurmountable difficulty; the young man wrote him the following explanation for falling so low:

“ . . . I was endowed as any normal person and would have been able to succeed in my studies as any one else but for some wretched habits-and I say these words, trembling with a powerless rage-wretched habits which came to poison the work of God. A cousin and a friend bear with me the responsibility for the first steps toward those devastating sensations that enkindled the odious flame which in turn upset my mental and physical health. No more willpower or rather no more strength despite good will; no more memory; all these results followed in succession. I blame my parents especially my father who had given up all religious practices. He never spoke to me with a view to understanding me; never did we have the least conversation which could indicate any common bond of ideas or feeling; he fed my body, that is all. . . .”

What a terrible indictment are these words! How they prove the necessity of watching the associations of the children, their work, the reasons for their laziness; the importance of keeping their confidence, of knowing how to win that confidence; of showing them understanding and a willingness to help; of giving them an assurance of victory.

“I was endowed as any normal person and would have been able to succeed.” Nothing more readily weakens the resilience of the powers of the mind and the heart than lust. What the young man said is exactly true; he had abandoned himself to impurity, he lost the keenness of his intelligence, the retentiveness of his memory and a relish for effort. Even grave physical injuries sometimes result. “Devastating sensations” and “the odious flame” quickly depleted and consumed vital energies.

“A cousin and a friend.” How absolutely necessary is vigilance over the friendships that circumstances and relationships often provide, and sometimes alas that certain corrupted individuals seek to establish to give vent to their secret taste for perversion.

If the child had confided in someone at the onset of the first serious difficulties! But nothing in the attitude of the parents invited confidence, a request for enlightenment, a humble avowal of imprudence or faults already committed. How many children, how many youths yearn to speak! Someone, their father or mother or a director must take the first step. Nothing happens. Nobody imagines that they want help; nobody deigns to interest themselves in them. The mother is absorbed in her worldliness or completely oblivious of their needs; the father is wrapped up in his business; the spiritual director if they have one at all does not find the time or the means to help . . .

And the child, the young boy or the young girl carries the weight of inward suffering and is stifled by it.

“I blame my parents . . . never did my father speak to me with a view to understanding me; never did we have the least conversation which could indicate any common bond of ideas or feeling; he fed my body, that is all.”

Did this father realize that even while he was nourishing the body of his son, he was contributing to the death of his soul by a double sin of omission! He did not help his son in his moral life when he needed it; he gave him a very bad example by openly abandoning the Christian law.

Such sins are paid for and paid for painfully. How prevent lack of training and mistakes of training from producing their disastrous effects?

To develop the body is fine, commendable, and a duty. Even more important is it to develop the soul, to protect it, to strengthen it, to uplift it.

A MOTHER TO HER SON

WHEN Leon Bloy was about twenty years old, he fell into one of those crises not uncommon in youth, particularly in youth whose environment brings contact with unbelievers and persons of loose morals, and he drifted from his religion. He was wretchedly unhappy besides, unhappy because of the very direction he was taking; but an involuntary confusion and probably a certain amount of wilful pride prevented him from breaking with doubt to return to the path of light.

The mother read her son’s soul clearly. She did not reproach him, nor did she speak to him exclusively nor immediately of his religious problem; she attributed his interior troubles to different causes of an inferior order which more than likely played a part in his wretchedness. She wrote to him:

“How is it my dear child that you do not write to us. I feel heavy hearted because of it for I am sure that you do not realize what is taking place in your poor soul; all kinds of things are conflicting within it-it is ardent and lacks the nourishment proper to it; you turn from one side to the other and you cannot tell what really bothers you. Ah! poor child, be calm, reflect. It is not that you feel your future lost or compromised; at your age one cannot have established his future or despaired of it; it is not for most persons your age still uncertain. No, it is not that, Your work, your studies do not show sufficient progress? Why? Perhaps because you want to do too many things at once; you are too impatient. No, not that either? Your mind is willing enough but your heart and your soul are suffering; they have so many yearnings that you are scarcely aware of, and their unease and their suffering react upon your mind sapping from it necessary strength and attention.

“You are suffering, you are unhappy. I feel all that you experience and yet I am powerless to console you, to encourage you much as I should love to do so. Ah! that we might have the same convictions! Why have you rejected the faith of your childhood without a profound examination of your reason for and against it? The statements of those whom faith irritates or who have no religion for lack of instruction have made an impression on your young imagination; but just the same your heart needs a center that it will never find on earth. It is God, it is the infinite you need and all your yearnings are driving you there. You belong to that select number of elect to whom God communicates Himself and in whose regard He is prodigal of his love when once they have consented to humble themselves by submitting to the obscurities of faith.”

What a frightening duty mothers have! To bring forth the bodies of their children is a beautiful ministry; to rear their souls is an even greater ministry.

What anguish for a mother when a grown child, a son in early manhood or a daughter in early womanhood cuts loose from faith, and considers God lightly! If ever she feels that she has lost her hold over her son or daughter, that they are escaping her, it is when she sees them follow the paths of doubt or fall under the spell of the intoxicating enchantments of flirtation.

A mother must continue to bring forth her children all her life. In this sense they are always her little ones. Not that she makes them feel their bonds of dependence any longer but that she watches over them. And she prays! Except for a brief reminder from time to time, the clear statement of her hopes joined to the definite but loving message of the father, an occasional letter in which true principles are recalled, the chief role of a mother whose adult child has strayed is prayer, patient waiting and sacrifice-the persevering effort to become a saint.

What if she were to die before she sees the return of the Prodigal? What if the Child were to die before she has seen him “return”?

She should not be discouraged. Can we know the mystery of souls? Can we know what takes place in the last moments? Can we know what goes on within when the exterior reveals nothing? Can we know the value of a mother’s tears? Monica will continue to the end of time to convert Augustine; but Monica must be a saint.

TICK TOCK

THE mother of Cardinal Vaughan had fourteen children -eight boys and six girls. Remarkable educator that she was, she believed that she owed the best part of her time to her little world.

The children’s special room looked like the nave of a Church for each little boy and girl had his statue to care for and they never failed to put flowers before it on special occasions.

With what art this mother settled a quarrelsome boy or a vain or untruthful little girl! With the littlest ones she was not afraid to become a little one and like them to sit on the ground. Thus, placed on their level, as the biography of her Jesuit son expresses it, she used to put her watch to their ears and explain to them that some day God would stop the tick tock of their lives and that He would call to Himself in heaven His children whom He had lent to earth.

In the course of the day, Mrs. Vaughan loved to pick our one or other of her band, preferably two, chosen on the basis of their earnest efforts or some particular need for improvement, and make a visit to Church. Yes, they should pray at home too; they had God in their hearts; but in each village or in each section of town, there is a special house generally of stone where Our Lord lives as He once lived at Nazareth except that now He remains hidden under the appearances of a little Host. She explained to them that prayer consists not in reciting set words but in conversing with Jesus. And if they had been very very good she would let them kiss the altar cloth and sometimes the altar itself, a favor the children regarded as most precious. When they had beautiful flowers in their green house they brought them to Church; happy and proud were the ones who were entrusted with delivering the bouquets or the vases of flowers!

Besides the visits made to “Jesus, the Head” there were also visits to the “members of Jesus,” “What you do to the least of My brethren you do to me.” And Mrs. Vaughan explained to each child according to its capacity to understand the great duty of charity and the reason for this duty. She did not hesitate to take them into sordid homes. Sometimes people were horrified to see her take the children to see the sick who suffered from a contagious disease. Wasn’t she afraid her children would contract it? But kind, firm Mrs. Vaughan did not allow herself to be the least disturbed by such comments. “Sickness? Well if one of them contracted a sickness while visiting the poor, that would still not be too high a price to pay for Christian charity. Besides God will protect my children much better than motherlove can.”

Here was true formation in piety, true formation in charity.

Here too was encouragement to follow a high ideal.

Herbert, the eldest of the boys, was once quite concerned over a hunting trip that the weather threatened to spoil. “Pray mamma,” he said, “that we have good weather!”

And Mrs. Vaughan more concerned to lift her son’s soul than to secure him a pleasurable time answered smilingly, “I shall pray that you will be a priest!” How the boy took such an answer at the moment is not recorded. We do know this:

Herbert was . . . the future Cardinal!

Mrs. Vaughan also gave her children an appreciation of the fine arts. She herself played the harp delightfully. From time to time she gathered her household about her for a gala time playing, singing, and a bit of mimicry; she always used the occasion to remind the children that there are other melodies and other joys more beautiful than those of earth.

TRAINING IN GENEROSITY

THE child is instinctively selfish, but he easily learns generosity.

His training should be directed toward it.

Little Rose of Lima’s childhood was marked by a series of accidents, maladies, and sufferings which the crude treatment of that time often aggravated rather than relieved. When only three months old she crushed her thumb under a trunk lid and the nail had to be removed. She also had to undergo an ear operation which was followed by a skin disease that began on her head; her mother treated it with a salve which burnt her so severely that the surgeon had to treat her for weeks, removing proud flesh so that the healthy skin could heal.

Thanks to her mother’s exhortations, this little girl of four years bore the cruel pain with an astonishing calmness and in perfect silence. Are not the staggering mortifications we see her imposing on herself later due to her early training?

Like all little girls, she was vain and took considerable care of her hair which was very beautiful. Her brother used to throw mud at it and get it all dirty just to tease her. Rose became very angry, but the brother, recalling perhaps some sermon he had heard, assumed a preaching tone on one of these occasions and said to her solemnly, “Take care, vanity will be your ruin; the curled hair of girls are cords from hell which bind the hearts of men and drag them into the eternal flames.”

Rose did not answer, but bit by bit began to understand . . . and she detached herself. That detachment prepared her for greater sacrifices and soon we see her offering her virginity to God.

Jacqueline was another little girl, a little girl of our own day, who learned the lesson of sacrifice. She was sick and suffering much. “Oh, I believe nobody has ever had pain like mine!”

“Where does it hurt?” she was asked.

“In my stomach, in my head, everywhere!”

“Think of St. Francis who had a red hot iron applied to his eyes as a treatment . . .”

This time her attention was caught. She forgot her own misery to sympathize with her dear saint whom people had hurt.

“Did they cure him after all that?”

Guy de Fontgalland had to have many strychnine injections in his leg.

“Offer it to Jesus, my darling,” suggested his mother. “He was crowned with thorns for love of you.”

“Oh yes, that is true and He kept the thorns in His head while they quickly removed the needle from my leg.”

A mother had three children; the oldest was four, the second, three, and the baby, twenty months. It was Good Friday. Why not encourage them to offer Jesus on the Cross some little sacrifice which would cost them a little?

“My children, I will not deprive you of your chocolate candy at lunch t oday; but little girls who love Jesus will know themselves how to sacrifice their chocolate.”

She made no further reference to it. None of the children answered. That evening the mother was very much moved to see the three chocolate bars at the foot of the Crucifix. Our Lord must have smiled at the childish offering; one of the candy bars bore the teeth marks of the baby who had hesitated before the offering and begun to nibble on her chocolate.

These stories of successful lessons in generosity are encouraging. What others have achieved, can I not achieve too?

MOTHERS AND VOCATIONS

WHEN Motta was elected to the Swiss Federal Council his first act was to send this telegram to his mother: “To my venerated mother, who remaining a widow while I was still a child, engraved in my heart the concept of duty by teaching me that duty dominates all interests, all selfishness, all other concerns.”

To be sure God remains the Master of vocations. Motta was not entering upon Holy Orders. His providential position was to be quite different and very fruitful besides.

What is certain is that never-or shall we say rarely, very rarely-is a vocation born into a family unless the mother has inculcated in her children a sense of duty and a habit of sacrifice. Of course, all children who receive a strong supernatural training do not enter the priesthood or religious life, but no child enters upon any career calling for great self-sacrifice, prescinding some unusual influence which is rare, if he does not acquire early in life a solid spirit of renunciation and generosity in the accomplishment of duty.

On the other hand, where mothers know how to go about teaching and above all practicing complete fidelity to duty and total renunciation, where they always put the supernatural love of God before material love for their children, Our Lord finds it easy to choose His privileged souls.

Monsignor d”Hulst said many a time to Abbe Leprince, “It takes a truly Christian mother to make a good priest. The seminary polishes him off but does not give him the substance, the sacerdotal spirit.”

All things considered, that holds true for novitiates and religious life. Nothing replaces family training, above all the influence of the mother. But that training and that influence must be wholly supernatural.

Madame Acarie, foundress of a French Carmelite Convent where she was known as Sister Marie of the Incarnation, strove earnestly to rear her six children for God. She explained to them: “I would not hesitate to love a strange child more than you if his love for God were greater than yours.”

However, individual free will always remains and God is Always Master of His gifts. That thought ought to calm the fear-unjustifiable as it is but humanly understandable-of certain mothers who think, “If I conduct my home along lines too thoroughly Christian, if I instill into my children too strong a habit of the virtues which lead to total renunciation, to an all embracing zeal, I shall see my sons and daughters renouncing marriage one by one and setting off for the priesthood or the convent.”

If that were to happen, where would be the harm? But that rarely happens in practice. Furthermore, is marriage a state of life that does not require a sense of duty or abnegation?

Let there be no anxiety on this score but perfect peace. The important thing now is not that God might choose soand-so but that the home give Our Lord maximum glory; that each child whatever its destiny serve an apprenticeship in generosity and the true spirit of the Gospel. Everything else as far as the future is concerned should be left to God.

PRIESTS IN THE FAMILY

THE supreme honor for Christian families is to give priests to God. The father can do much to inspire a priestly vocation but the mother who is often closer to the children can do more. For this she needs a priestly soul, a gift that is not so rare in mothers as one might believe. “There are,” said Rene Bazin, “mothers who have a priestly soul and they give it to their children.”

The lack of priests is a terrible sickness of the world today, a sickness that is growing worse. The war has depleted their number and the absence of priestly influence in many parishes before and during the war has damaged more than one vocation.

It is necessary that Christian families desire to give priests to the Church; that they beg God for the grace to prepare to the best of their ability for the eventual flowering of the priesthood.

Christian families should desire to give priests: Such a desire presupposes a profound esteem for the priesthood on the part of the parents. What a pity it is when a child who broaches the subject of becoming a priest meets with his father’s unreasonable anger, “If you mention vocation to me again, I”m going to strangle your confessor for it!” Can there be any greater blessing than a priest in a family?

Christian families should pray: A priestly vocation is a supernatural favor; prayer is essential to obtain it. God’s gifts are free, that is true, but we know that He makes some of His choice graces depend upon the prayers of His friends.

Christian families should prepare for vocations: Parents should know how to detect the germs ofa vocation. “I hear the grain growing,” said an old peasant as he walked about in his field. No one can better read the soul of a child than the mother. “I know him through and through as if I had made him.” This rather common but profound statement expresses very well the sort of intuition mothers have for all that concerns their child. Although the boy himself may not have discovered the divine germ, the mother, if she is keen and close to God, has been able to discern it.

How then help this germ to bud?

Help it gently, for there must be no pressure brought to bear upon the child. Suggest, yes; force, no.

Inspire great esteem for the priesthood. Consider a priest’s visit to the home as a privilege and a festive occasion. “From the age of seven,” declared Father Olier, the founder of the Sulpicians, “I had such an esteem for a priest that in my simple childish mind I believed them no longer human.” When asked the source of his great esteem, he said, “From my father and my mother.”

“Dear child, since you love to go to church so much and since you are so good in public speaking, you ought to become a priest,” suggested the father to his son, the future martyr, Blessed Perboyre.

Often the mother has quicker insight and longer-ranged vision. The father sometimes resists the vocation of his child. Such was the case with Saint Francis de Sales and Saint Alphonsus Ligouri. The father of Saint Alphonsus refused to speak to him for a whole year.

Sometimes though the father is the one who inspires the love for the priesthood. At the time of the confiscation of Church property in 1905 in France, a father perched his son on his shoulders to watch the pillage of the churches to incite in him a desire to become a defender of the Church later and if possible a priest.

Madame de Quelen did not hesitate to bring her son to the prison of the Carmelite priests to visit the priests interned there. The bishop later chose the Church of this Carmelite prison for his See.

If a child seems drawn to the priesthood show him the high motives that can lead him to embrace such a calling- the desire to imitate Our Lord and the desire to save souls.

What a reward the parents reap at their son’s ordination or on the day of their death. That repays them for all the sacrifices they willingly made; repays them with interest.

THE MOTHER OF A SAINT

MADAME DE BOISY, the mother of Saint Francis de Sales, brought many precious virtues with her to the chateau of Thorens in Savoy where her husband lived. Unassuming and kind, she considered the village households around her estate almost as part of her family; she showed concern for their poverty and sufferings, settled their differences and exercised a control over them that was highly successful for the simple reason that she was careful not to make a show of it. Watchful to see that her servants were truly a part of the family, she encouraged them, without constraining them, to practice their faith and offered to read spiritual books to them herself after the evening meal; she invited all of them to attend the family prayer.

Unfortunately her marriage promised to be sterile. At Annecy in a church dedicated to Our Lady of Liesse, she begged God to give her a son, promising to “exercise all her care to make him worthy of heaven.” On August 1567, Francis de Sales was born. He was so frail a child that all feared for his life.

As he grew older, the child had no greater delight than to show kindness to the unfortunate and to distribute among the poor the delicacies his mother gave him for this purpose. It is said of him that by way of thanking his mother he promised her, “When I am my own master, I will give you a beautiful red silk dress every year.”

At the same time she was training her little boy to almsgiving, Madame de Sales was also educating him to love of God and to sacrifice.

Soon the hour of separation struck. The child had to leave for the school of La Roche and later for the College at Annecy. He was beloved by all, excused the faults of his comrades and one day even took a whipping in place of his cousin Gaspard de Sales. Shortly after his First Holy Communion he told his mother that he wanted to receive the tonsure some day and that therefore she ought to have his beautiful blond curls cut now.

Francis had two brothers. To characterize them and himself, he developed a comparison between the trio and the seasoning of a salad: “Jean-Francis with his violent temper furnishes the vinegar; Louis with his wisdom the salt; and I, the good-natured chubbyFrancis, put in the oil because I love mildness.”

Francis possessed a secret of which his mother was the confidant: He wanted to be a priest at any cost. Madame de Sales shared his dream and upheld her son in it. After six years at Jesuit schools and colleges accompanied by outstanding success he entered the University of Padua. Here he astonished his professors with the brilliant way he defended his thesis although he was scarcely twenty-four at the time.

The father already envisioned his son as a great lawyer, then a senator, and the founder of a fine family, but Francis, enlightened by a providential experience he had one day while riding through a forest, decided not to delay his consecration to God any longer.

His father objected. The mother intervened: “Can we dispute with God over a soul He wants for His service?” Secretly she had clerical clothes made for Francis. The post of provost of the Cathedral Chapter became vacant. The father finally gave in and on June 8, 1593, Francis was ordained to the diaconate. In the opinion of his father, who missed the joy of seeing him a bishop, Francis preached too much and didn’t put in enough Greek and Latin when he did preach. But Francis knew how to talk to souls as his famous missions at Chablais strikingly demonstrated. Rich and poor besieged his confessional.

On December 8, 1602, Francis, who was then thirty-five gave his first episcopal blessing to his mother, who soon put herself under his spiritual direction. One of the last joys of this noble mother was toread her son’s “Introduction to Devout Life,” a book which met with spectacular success.

A stroke brought the saint’s mother to the point of death. The holy bishop of Annecy came hurriedly to her bedside. She recognized him, took his hand and kissed it, then putting up her arms to draw his head closer to her to kiss him, she said, “You are my father and my son!”

Francis closed her eyes at death. Broken by sorrow, he wrote to Madame de Chantel, “It has pleased God to take from this world our very good and very dear mother in order to have her, as I strongly hope, at His right hand, since she was one of the sweetest and most innocent souls that could be found.”

Sons are worth what their mothers are worth.

PARENTS OF SAINTS

SAINT FRANCIS DE SALES was the first child of Madame de Boisy. Saint Paul of the Cross was the first of sixteen children. The saint in the family is not always the oldest. Saint Bernard was the third of seven. Saint Thomas Aquinas was the sixth child in the family. Saint Therese of the Child Jesus was the last of nine children. Saint Ignatius of Loyola the last of thirteen.

What glory would have been lost to the Church if the parents of these children had consulted their selfishness rather than their duty of parenthood and had left buried in the realms of nothingness these little beings destined to become saints! It brings to mind the conversation between two women, the one voluntarily sterile, the other surrounded by fine children. The first woman explained to the second that she just couldn’t be tied down. The second responded with the classic argument:

“And suppose that your father and mother had reasoned like that, where would you be?”

The saints are rarely only children for two reasons: The first, that there cannot be any sanctity without a habit of renunciation and this habit is much more readily acquired in a large family where each one must forget self to think of others; where the rubbing of character against character whittles down selfishness; where the parents do not have time to overwhelm their offspring with a foolish indulgence that spoils them. The second, that God gives the grace of a holy call, by preference, where there is an integral practice of virtue, where virtue is held in honor, where the parents do not fear difficulty but trust in Divine Providence.

Saint Vincent de Paul was one of five children and Saint Vincent Ferrer, one of eight, Saint Aloysius Gonzaga, Blessed Perboyre, Saint Bernadette were each, one of eight children. In the family of the Cure of Ars there were six children; in that of Saint Margaret Mary Alacoque, seven; in that of Saint Benedict Joseph Labre, fifteen. In the family of Saint Catherine of Siena, there were twenty-two children of the same marriage. And how many more examples we could still find!

There is a charming Breton legend that carries an equally charming lesson. One day Amel, the fisherman, and his wife Penhov, who used to bring fresh fish to the monks, had left with their child to bring in the nets. They were overtaken by the tide. The water rose higher and higher and higher. “Wife, this is our last hour; put your two feet on my shoulders; in this way you will hold out longer. . . . and love my memory.” Penhov obeyed. Amel sunk into the sand like a post driven in with a hammer. Penhov seized the child and lifting it above her said, “Put your two feet on my shoulders; in this way you will hold out longer. And love deeply the memory of your father and mother.” The mother too sank beneath the water and soon only the golden hair of the child floated on the water. An angel of God passed by. He seized the child’s hair and pulled. “My, how heavy you are!” Another blond head appeared, that of Penhov who had not let go of her boy’s feet. “How heavy you both are!” Then Amel appeared for he had not let go of his wife’s feet. . . . By the child the father and mother had been saved!

Who knows whether or not some parents will enter Paradise because an angel has seized their child by the hair! What a beautiful letter of introduction for Heaven is a child and above all a canonized child!

TRAINING IN CHARITY

JEANNE-ANCELOTHUSTACHE gives us a picture of her little daughter Jacqueline in the book entitled “The Book of Jacqueline.”

She is a well-endowed child; she is made much of, in fact, too much petted by her grandmother, by her father, by her sister who is extremely proud of her and by all the guests of the home. She is in danger of becoming a charming little self-centered individual as so many children are.

Happily, attentive care watches over her and strives to give the child the spirit of charity, love for the poor, for children, for the weak and the suffering. Little by little, Jacqueline opens her heart to this love, toward the suffering of the world.

She finds exquisite words, unexpected delicacy in greeting people, in thanking them, and in easing every wound that she guesses with a subtle and tender intuition. She is embarrassed rather than triumphant because of the special advantages she has over companions who are less gifted, poorer and less endowed. She pities the poor beggar on the boulevard; she brightens the lives of the aged sick in the hospice of Ligny with her refreshing graciousness. At seven years this is how she prays to the Blessed Virgin for an unfortunate servant:

“O my Mother, my Mother, please deliver Yvonne. The poor little one. Nobody wants her. Her father doesn’t want her, her mother is now far from her. She stole, she is in prison, she is sad and never will any one take her from it, never until her death; I alone on earth love her, I love her because she seems to say to me, “If they would let me alone with you, I would never do anything bad.””

“I alone on earth, I love her.” That is the answer of Jacqueline to the secret appeal of the merciful Christ: She will give herself entirely to those who have no one to love them; she will be their Sister of Charity, their Little Sister of the Poor, their Sister of Mercy.

The hour of God for this privileged child was to come in an unexpected way. She was to die while still very young and she was to go to the Christ of the extended Arms, the Christ who loves little children who are charitable and pure.

What an advantage for the child’s later life, if the parents have succeeded in making it alert to the refinements of charity, to a concern for the needs of the world.

They do not lack opportunities. Perhaps mother and child are taking a walk. Here comes a poor grandmother, gathering dead branches, leading along an emaciated, sickly child. “Suppose we go to their aid?” suggests the mother to her little one.

Christmas comes. In many families some good little children will have nothing, not the smallest present. Their papa is too poor; he earns just enough to provide bread to his household. Playthings? By no means; playthings cost too much. “Suppose we bring them that doll you don’t play with anymore. Mother will dress it again so that it will look fine.” Or, “Suppose you look for that mechanical horse you relegated to the attic. Papa will repair it so that it will seem like new.”

Then there are the Missions. A terrible flood in some land has been reported. How many people are suffering! Let us fix up a bank into which each one can put his little alms! When we have a nice sum, we can send it over there. Or perhaps there is an occasion to ransom a little pagan baby so that it can be reared as a Christian. The opportunity to explain that spiritual alms are superior to material alms should not be passed by.

Once a child’s eyes have been opened, how well it will know how to be good!

TRAINING IN SOCIAL RESPONSIBILITY (1)

To AWAKEN the child to solicitude for the poor and the wretched is a splendid thing. However parents do not fulfil their whole duty, if they fail to give it a sense of responsibility for the common good and a true concept of cooperation.

Instinctively the child refers everything to its own small personal interest. If it is not taught very early to concern itself for others, it will be in danger of becoming narrow and selfish, of being forever oblivious to the general welfare, in other words, of never achieving a social sense.

While the child is very young this training will not consist in formal instructions but rather in a constant directing of attention on a thousand different occasions to the fact of having to be concerned about others. It will be taught to go upstairs without making a noise because mamma is resting; not to slam the doors because little brother or little sister is asleep; not to play noisily near papa’s study. The child will learn very early in this way the social consequences of its actions.

The child may be with the whole family to meet someone at the station; the parents will have a fine opportunity to show it how selfish it is to stand directly in door ways and passages as it loves to do, since that obstructs the entrances and exits for people coming in from trains or those who merely wish to leave that way.

If a little girl accompanies her mother on a shopping trip, she can be taught not to ask the clerk to display more goods than necessary because it will all have to be refolded and replaced after she leaves.

At basketball or football, it is not so important to be a star player oneself as to bring the team to victory. It is true sportsmanship and true nobility to renounce a personal triumph by passing the ball to a fellow player who will assure the victory because he is in a better position or better qualified.

“Point out to us the lessons of the football game,” a young sportsman asked his older friend. And he gave the one that extols the virtue of renunciation: “I will pass my chance to him”-the sacrifice of selfish or vain calculating with a view to the result for the whole.

The child can be shown that when there is question of committing an infraction of discipline in school, he ought to avoid it not so much because of the effect on the teacher-”He who budges will have to deal with me”-but rather the disturbance it causes for his comrades whose attention is distracted and progress retarded. Discipline was not invented for the comfort of the teacher but for the good of the pupils.

In this way, theoretical teaching is preceded by the practical background of the child in an atmosphere of cooperation, of social interchange of help. Every occasion for practice of this type should be accompanied by an explanation that later they must always act with like consideration in the office, the factory, the army or in whatever community they may be.

Once the children are old enough to understand more theory, every opportunity to instill doctrine should be seized: An international problem arises: Selfishness or mutual help? What does the Church say on this point? What does the Gospel say? Or perhaps it is a problem of relations between employer and workers, a strike in the father’s factory or in the city. Here too, what does the Church say? What does the Gospel command. Selfishness or reciprocal understanding?

Trained in this fashion the young will be ready and quick to understand the social or international doctrine of the Church when they are old enough to be taught it academically. They will not oppose correct principles, as they only too often do with a wall of prejudices or pseudo-traditions, when their religion or philosophy teachers explain them.

TRAINING IN SOCIAL RESPONSIBILITY (2)

WE HAVE accomplished a good deal if we have accustomed the child to put itself as much as possible “in the place of others.” “If I were in such and such a situation, what would I do, what would I think?” We are all wrapped up in ourselves as in a cocoon, the child more than anyone else; particularly if it has been coddled, if it has been born into a family that is comfortably fixed, if it gets accustomed or others make it accustomed to being waited on.

The child must be encouraged to wait on itself and to give service. If for any reason the mother needs to hire help, that is no reason for the child to monopolize such help to its own comfort; it should never be permitted to give direct orders to domestic help.

As much as possible, especially in the case of little girls, the child should be given the opportunity to do many little tasks that make family life run more smoothly: to set the table, to dust up a room, to arrange a bouquet, to take care of the baby. Such assignments should not be presented to them as burdensome tasks but as an aid toward the common good, a lightening of mamma’s work so that they are joyful about it even if it demands an effort, upsets their well-laid plans or requires a sacrifice. Often the child will be delighted, proud of its importance. However care must be taken to appeal not to vanity but to responsibility.

A delicate point to consider is the question of friendships. Should the child be permitted to associate with children who are not as we say of their class? They will meet in school. If these possible friends are morally good and wellmannered, why not? It will offer a fine opportunity to show that money is not everything, that the only true worth is virtue and human dignity. The child may be too much inclined to pair off only with those who belong to the same social circle or environment; that flatters its vanity. The parents should react to this tendency by teaching the little one that it ought to share with a comrade who is less privileged and while avoiding indiscriminate associations with anybody and everybody, seek out as friends not the best dressed but those who are the best students, the most truly pious, the strongest personalities for good, in a word, those that deserve most esteem.

Should the family circumstances require sacrifices, show the child that there are people who are poorer; silence all jealousy. When the time comes for a choice of profession direct the boy or girl to choose judiciously not according to possible profit or financial returns but according to the possibilities for best serving society, the common good.

Generous parents will not hesitate, if the child’s qualifications are adequate and the opportune moment presents itself, to speak of vocations of complete consecration, the priesthood, religious life. There are so many needs in the world. “The harvest indeed is great, but the laborers are few.” They enlist their children’s interest. A priest? Why not he? A religious? Why not she?

That supposes a spirit of detachment in the parents, an informed appreciation for the needs of the Church, love of the general good of Christianity, the sacrifice of little hopes for building up a new family. Yes, it means that.

Such parents will often call attention to the distress of the world; to the struggle of nations among themselves. They will explain to their children that union alone is fruitful; furthermore that union alone is truly Christian.

What an inspiring example do those children have whose father has always been a man of broad sympathies and a generous heart, highly social-minded; if in his profession he has always tried to serve rather than merely to earn money; if a lawyer, he has always been concerned for justice; if an industrialist, he has applied himself to bettering the human aspects of production; if a merchant, he has been attentive to injure no one; if a doctor, he has sacrificed himself to do the most possible good; if an employee, he has given his time loyally and honestly to his work-a worker eager for work well done and the social defense of his profession.

The boy and girl learn from this to consider their chosen professions or careers as future social service. They get out of their narrow selfish views which formerly warped their characters-they emerge with souls truly formed.

TRAINING IN SOCIAL RESPONSIBILITY (3)

IF WE are alert to seize the occasions, everything can serve to teach children to guess or at least to understand the needs and requirements of others.

A little girl who could no longer be called a baby had not as yet any brother or sister. One day she noticed her mother busy with the details of a layette: “Is all that for Liette, mamma?” She was Liette. “No dear, not for Liette, but for a little brother or sister who is going to come.”

Liette was utterly stupefied. What was this? Mother was not working only for her then!

The first school for social consciousness is the family. What a handicap if mother has never worked for anyone but Liette, if Liette remained an only child! We can readily guess what selfishness she would have been capable of displaying.

The family is together: “It’s so stuffy here, I”m going to open the window.”

“No, grandmother has a cold.”

The child understands it is not alone; others count.

The family lives in an apartment. The children are making an uproar. “Gently, children; we must not disturb the people downstairs. Not so much noise.” Others count.

The little girl is learning how to keep house. She shakes her dustcloth out of the window. “Did you look to see if someone was passing by?”

To know that other people exist and to understand that we must restrain ourselves for them is the root of social consciousness. A person would think that we all would have it and to spare.

Unfortunately experience proves otherwise.

Mother and child go to a neighboring park for play. How tempting to make little sand piles all along the bench beside mamma! “You will see, I will not get you dirty mamma.”

“No, my little one, but you are not thinking of the people who may come in a little while to sit on this bench.”

The street as well as a public garden can offer opportunities for such lessons. “Step aside dear. Don’t you see that mother who is pushing her baby buggy; let her pass.”

On the streetcar: “Give your place to the lady.”

In a train. “Take turns sitting by the window.” “Let’s not speak so loud; it will disturb other people’s conversation or their reading.”

On a visit. “The steps have just been scrubbed; clean your shoes on the mat and walk along the edge so as not to track them up for the lady.”

All this is rounded out in Catechism lessons. “Then in heaven I will be with some poor little child, won’t I?”

Children of poor families should be taught the dignity of poverty and labor, the duty of contributing one’s best efforts to lift the living conditions and social status of their group.

Children of wealthy families should be taught their responsibility toward the working classes; they should be taught how far material, moral, and spiritual destitution can go and what they ought to do to learn how to remedy it. TRAINING IN SOCIAL RESPONSIBILITY (4)

WE HAVE not done everything when we have given children the idea and the desire of going to the aid of the poor. There is something better to be done. That is to teach them gradually to try to prevent misery from invading the poor world. We shall never succeed completely in checking it, but what a beautiful work it is to try to spread more happiness among men!

As children grow and reach an age of keener perception and of deeper reflection show them that the problem involves:

The relations of social classes with one another;

The relations of nations toward one another.

Within a single country, there are those who have what they need, those who have more than they need, those who have not even the essentials.

Is it not fundamental to establish a condition in the world in which the fewest people possible lack the necessities of life or better in which the most people possible can attain a sufficient possession of the goods of the earth, the culture of the mind and the knowledge of supernatural riches?

To the degree in which we are impregnated with the spirit of the Gospel, we will desire that our brothers about us are not only cured of their wounds but preserved as far as they can be from possible wounds and established in a state of adequate human development, and of adequate divine development.

To dress a wound that has been infected is a good deed; to prevent a wound from being inflicted is a better deed. To prearrange indemnity for those who fall into unemployment is good; to strive for a status of work in which unemployment is prevented is better.

Now the conditions of modern living, the economic equipment of society, have thrown a whole section of society into a situation in which life has become very hard, in which “earning one’s living” has become a terrible problem.

Young boys and girls must be taught to realize these facts as they grow up. They must open their minds to an understanding of the social problems in their most agonizing aspects; they must prepare themselves to work to the best of their ability to counteract these evils.

When the social questions are concerned with relations between peoples of different nations, then how many problems crop up! Wars, even after treaties have been signed, leave hearts embittered. New difficulties arise. A very correct idea of patriotism is of capital importance!

Is periodic war between nations justifiable? Ought we not do everything in our power to constitute a state of peace in the world by an honest agreement between nations?

What procedures should we follow that these desirable understandings be effective?

What virtues must be developed in order to reconcile at one and the same time concern for national dignity, love of peace, brotherhood according to God.

How can we get different peoples to live together side by side without the grave interests of any group suffering even though each nationality remains deeply concerned for its own greatness?

A whole education on these points must be given.

THE FAMILY AND THE SCHOOL

To CHOOSE a school and then to help the school are two great duties of the family.

1. To choose a school. It is quite clear that a Catholic family ought to choose a Catholic school. On every level of education when there is a choice between a Catholic school and a public school, Christian parents have the serious duty to prefer the one which speaks of God and Christ rather than the one which sins by omission.

It is a duty and a serious duty for many reasons:

First of all when Catholics practically bleed themselves to death financially to maintain their schools, not to profit by their sacrifice is to do them grave injustice.

Then, and this is serious, even when there need be no fear of the danger of immorality, the very fact of the mixed religions necessarily involved is a danger for the child’s faith since because of this variety, the education offered is severed from all allusion to things eternal. It is by a regrettable amputation that educators pretend to isolate in the human being, the merely human vocation and the supernatural vocation. We have not been created to be human beings pure and simple but divinized human beings. Educators can work in vain, secularization will accomplish nothing in changing this truth. It is just that way. The same holds for the education the parents give to supplement that of the school; it is immeasurably harmful for the moral life of young minds and young hearts never to hear mentioned that which alone counts for life. That is, however, how so many generations have become accustomed to put life on one side and religion on the other as if they were separate water-tight compartments.

To count on the school alone, especially when it is neutral, to equip children adequately for life is a grave delusion.

Spencer, that English realist, once wrote:

“The one who would want to teach geometry by giving Latin lessons or who believed he could teach pupils to play the piano by drawing would be considered crazy. He would be just as reasonable as those who pretend to improve the moral sense by teaching grammar, chemistry or physics.”

An education, even a solid education that is purely secular is insufficient for the full development of the moral sense and the adequate formation of character.

2. To help the school. After the school has been carefully chosen, the family still has the duty to help the teachers in their task. Therefore, parents, older brothers and sisters should:

show new interest in the children’s studies not as they often do through vanity but through real interest in the children.

should never contradict the disciplinary measures that teachers thought necessary; if a punishment has been inflicted at school or a schedule decided upon, the pupil’s family ought to support it and express themselves as being in accord with it.

should, if necessity has obligated them to put a child in a secular school, supplement the regrettable deficiencies of the school by competent religious instructions; they must also exercise vigilance over the friendships and associations the children form.

They should exercise vigilance in this regard even when the school is of the highest moral standard; particularly careful must they be of the influences of doubtful companions the children might become acquainted with on their way to and from school. Along with the school and the home we must take account of the influence of the streets.

THE SECULARISM OF CHRISTIANS

WE ARE not concerned here with refuting the doctrines of secularism. Every Christian ought to know the mind of the Church on this subject; we need not go back to ancient documents either to discover it. It is enough to recall the Encyclical “Summi Pontificatus” issued by Pius XII in 1939 at the beginning of the Second World War.

Denouncing the aggressive encroachment into the field of religion by some present-day particular doctrines, he traced even farther back the source of the evil which has poisoned the whole life of Europe; he pointed to the doctrines which tried to build up the present and the future of humanity by getting rid of God and getting rid of Christ.

The problem now is to determine which of the unfortunate species of secularism has invaded me, my home, my habits, and which now may dominate me.

Of course there is no question of a denial of God or of Christ. But what place do they hold in my family life? In my daily life, in my profession, in my participation in civic affairs?

Has it not often happened that in choosing schools or colleges for their children so-called Christian parents often evidence a utilitarian materialistic spirit; they give lame reasons for choosing the secular colleges instead of a Catholic college-the teachers are better, the chances for success after graduation are more certain. Are they so sure? And if by chance it were true? Do the souls of their children mean less than a diploma?

Has it not often happened that the influence of such Christian parents in their social and civic life was practically nothing as far as bringing the doctrines of the Gospel and the teaching of the Church to bear on those domains?

And even though they neglected nothing of the essential practices of their religion, was it not primarily mere formality rather than solid convictions; conformity or fashion rather than true worship? There was a great disparity between their external actions, their attitudes and real prayer, the living knowledge of the gift of God?

Is not following the doctrines and the morality of Christ nothing more than letting them be evident in my life and my family?

The world must be made over. In the light of an Apocalypse, terrible ruins have been effected. The edifice that was the European world appeared solid; the foundation stone was deficient. Are we going to build the new world on an equally fragile base? If we are, then, the causes remaining the same, the results must inevitably be the same. And we shall continue indefinitely to see renewed destructions. If God has no place in the foundations of the City with all that His inclusion implies, then how can the City remain standing? That is a thought expressed in an ancient psalm; there is no exception-the truth of this fact remains. The stability of nations and of society is bound up with eternal principles.

Am I sufficiently convinced of this? Do I not have much more confidence in human formulas than in the rule of complete truth? Do I not unconsciously try to establish human life only upon the human? Am I not still and always, in spite of the lesson in world events, the victim of a deficient ideal, of inadequate principles?

I must Christianize my Christianity. I must make it evident in every department of my life-in my relations with my family and with society; in the opinions I hold regarding national and international issues. In all that depends on me there shall be one hundred percent Christianity.

FAMILY AFFECTIONS

THE family spirit, that traditional ensemble of convictions, ideals, and domestic practices which constitute the sacred patrimony of people united by the same blood, can exist without a very strong affection among the members. The family spirit is in itself something precious; but when it is merely a sort of collective egotism, it has been blemished; it is a beautiful fruit injured by a worm.

What an inspiring and noble reality family affection is! One author refers to it poetically:

“ . . . Beautiful families that travel as a group and as a choir on the road to heaven after the pattern of stars that are united in constellations in the firmament . . .”

How we ought to pity those husbands or wives and often young boys and girls who find the hours spent at home long; those husbands and wives who are bored with each other; those brothers and sisters who find one another’s company monotonous and whose glance is ever on the door, the gate or the garage!

Mutual Love of Parents and Children: Joseph and Mary did not grow bored with Jesus; Jesus did not tire of the company of Mary and Joseph. It is said that love does not go backward. We do not find too many examples of parents who do not love their offspring but how many children neglect their father and mother with painful disregard! They explain it by saying that young people like to be together. But there is a time for everything. There are some who do not make enough of the part of the home in their lives. How strange it is that children can be so loving when they are little, so demonstrative, and when they grow up so adept at saddening their parents?

Brotherly and Sisterly Love: Where will we find love if not between brothers and sisters? “Who then will love you,” Bishop Baunard asks, “if you do not love your brother. It is like loving yourself. I believe the etymology of the word frater, brother, is made up of these two words fere alter, that is nearly another self.”

The Count de Mun wrote in his “Memoirs,” “It is sweet to me to have to speak in the plural when recalling the first years of my existence. I have a twin brother who has never been so much as a step away from me in my career. My life is his life, my joys have been his, and his successes mine. It is not Anatole and Armand, he and I,it is we.”

Marshal Lyautey had a brother who was a colonel during the war of 1914; this brother manifested to all who spoke to him not only his admiration for Lyautey, the Governor of Morocco, but his deep affection.

One only had to hear Father Foch, a fine type of Jesuit, mention his brother Marshal Foch to sense his love; though he showed a complete reserve it was more eloquent than any discourse; his was a warmth of heart which a few restrained but touching words sufficed to express.

There should be place in the home for the affection that grandparents, uncles and aunts deserve.

On the children’s birthdays, why not invite the godparents; they would enter better into their office. “Men and women who have held children at the baptismal font, I remind you that you will have to render an account of them before God.” For their part, the children will get a better realization of this beautiful institution of Christian sponsorship.

If all the members of the family are to understand one another and love one another, each one must have a great virtue. The same training and the same blood are not sufficient; self-conquest is necessary. Bossuet expressed it well: “Natures are always sufficiently opposite in character to create frequent friction in a habitual society. Each one has his particular disposition, his prejudices, his habits. One sees himself at such close range and one sees oneself from so many angles, with so many faults in the most trifling occurrences! One grows weary, imperfection repels, human weakness makes itself felt more and more, so that it is necessary to conquer oneself at every hour.”

THE HIERARCHY OF DUTIES

APOSTOLIC work if carried on inopportunely or immoderately can take a woman away from her home too much. Beyond a doubt, there are immense needs: help for the sick, catechetical instructions, guild meetings for the

Sisters, spiritual conferences, and in all of these, great charity can be exercised. It is much better for a woman to spend her time in such things than in lounging, or in numerous and useless visits, in exploring for the hundredth time some enticing department store. Nevertheless, the duties of the home remain her principal work: To plan, to arrange, to mend, to clean, to sew, to beautify, to care for the children. Insignificant duties? But what would that matter if they represented the Will of God? Are we not too often tempted to want a change? Impetuous zeal, poorly directed service, caprice under the guise of generosity seek to substitute for daily duty which perhaps has not much glamor about it but which is just the same wanted by God.

Would not the greatest charity in such a case be not to engage in works of charity but to remain faithfully at home and devote oneself to works which no one will speak of and which will win no one’s congratulations? Later when the children have grown up and settled, there may be leisure; then a large share in the apostolate will be open according to one’s strength and time. Until then, my nearest neighbor, without being the least bit exclusive about it but merely judging with a well instructed understanding, will be this little world that has established itself in my home. . . .

Another danger besides excessive apostolic works that might ensnare some wives and mothers of families would be to give exaggerated place to exercises of piety. Did not one of the characters in a novel by George Duhamel lament this tendency: “I have heard priests say that some women have spoiled their married life by excessive attendance at religious ceremonies and they sighed,”Why did they get married if they had a religious vocation.””

There are unfortunately some husbands so superficially Christian that they see exaggeration in the most elementary and normal practice of piety on the part of the wife and mother. That is only too sadly true! Their judgment is worth nothing.

We are referring only to an actual excess which would really be considered such by a competent judge. There is no doubt that a married woman, if she is a good manager and is not encumbered by some job outside the home, can find time for normal religious exercises and can even provide for meditation, spiritual reading and a relatively frequent assistance at Mass and reception of Holy Communion; time, after all, is something that varies in its possibility for adaptations and compressibility and woman excels in the heart of putting many things into a small place. . . .

If she suspects that her husband finds certain exterior acts of piety exaggerated, attendance at weekday Mass for instance, let her increase her private devotions somewhat, a little more meditation or spiritual reading when he is not around; whether he is right or not, it is better not to irritate him if grave consequences might result. That is how Elizabeth Leseur managed; never did she betray the least annoyance when disturbed in her devotions; she always answered her husband’s call or his outbursts of irritation with a pleasant face.

Never neglect a duty but observe the order of their importance.

********

Catholics And Freemasonry

BY DR L. RUMBLE, M.S.C

INDEX

THIS booklet is intended not only for Catholics, but for all -including Freemasons themselves-who want to know just why the Catholic Church so rigidly forbids her own members to join the Masonic Lodge.

The Catholic Church does not deny that many decent and honourable non-Catholics who profess to be Christians see no harm in belonging also to a Masonic Lodge. These men find its mysterious ceremonial, the absence of sectarian strife within its walls, and the mutual assistance members can afford one other a great source of attraction; and they have never experienced any scruples of conscience in the matter. Such men the Catholic Church refuses to judge. She leaves them to their own consciences. And Masons will themselves appreciate the fact that the laws of the Catholic Church dealing with this problem concern her own members.

But the truth remains that the Catholic Church declares the Masonic System to be such that no Catholic can in conscience belong to it. And her reasons for that demand explanation, an explanation I hope to supply as adequately as a small booklet such as this will permit.

DO ONLY MASONS KNOW?

Of necessity I will have to say a good deal of the nature of Freemasonry as it is in itself. And at once the charge is likely to be made that, since Masonry is a secret society, a non-Mason cannot have accurate knowledge of it. But one doesn’t have to be a Mason to obtain reliable knowledge of it, any more than one has to have visited America before he can possess any accurate information about that particular country.

There is an abundant Masonic literature written by Masons for Masons which is accessible to all willing to go to the trouble of procuring it; and, as a matter of fact, in my own public discussions of the subject I have shown sufficient knowledge of it to be charged by Freemasons themselves with being an ex-Mason of the Royal Arch Degree!

On the other hand, it has been said that the various Masonic books I have on occasion quoted are not official, but that they contain merely the individual opinions of their authors. That, however, cannot be accepted. For not only have many of these books received the highest commendation from Masonic leaders, but they are all fundamentally in agreement, expressing the body of opinion prevalent amongst all Masons who have made anything like a serious study of Masonic teachings.

Masons, of course, say that they are at a disadvantage in this matter; that they cannot refute wrong explanations of Masonry without giving what they know to be the truth; and that their Masonic obligation of secrecy forbids them to do that. They say that they can merely assert Masonry to be harmless, and beyond that reconcile themselves to letting adversaries appear to get away with anything. I appreciate their difficulty. But I myself do not believe that anything is to be gained by exaggerations and false charges; and I certainly am not prepared to believe anything hostile critics of Masonry have chosen merely to surmise, nor am I prepared to subscribe to conclusions based on the wild imaginations in which those critics have often indulged. Certainly in this booklet nothing will be set down which cannot be authenticated.

WHAT IS FREEMASONRY?

Many people, including a goodly number of Masons themselves, regard Freemasonry as little more than a social institution, with a charitable outlook and a spice of interest thrown in by its secrecy and its mysterious rites and ceremonies.

Officially, however, it claims to be a non-sectarian fraternity, teaching a lofty system of morality and basic religion “veiled in allegory and illustrated by symbols “-symbols derived mainly from ancient mythology and from the builders’ craft-the members being bound by oath never to reveal its modes of recognition and its ritualistic practices.

Constitutionally, it is organized in groups of Lodges subject to a Grand Lodge, which is invested with supreme power and authority over all the Craft within its jurisdiction. The Grand Lodges in each country, or in the various provinces of each country, are constitutionally independent of one another, claiming only a moral unity in Masonic principles and practices.

Despite its claims to antiquity, Grand Lodge Masonry as we know it dates only from A.D. 1717. It is true that there were Masonic Guilds in medieval times. But these were Catholic Associations of free and independent operative stone masons, with which Freemasonry today cannot claim continuity. These Catholic Confraternities were disrupted by the Protestant Reformation; and it was only after an interval of almost a century that some Deists, Jews and Protestants began to form societies, borrowing the terminology of the old masonic guilds, but with a very different spirit and outlook. Members were admitted to their”lodges or assemblies” by a secret ritual which was greatly influenced by the Rosicrucians, who had begun to join them. These Rosicrucians brought with them from the mystic sect to which they belonged extravagant claims to an occult knowledge of the hidden secrets of nature.

In 1717 four of these” Lodges” which had been established in London met at the Apple Tree Tavern, and after placing the oldest Master Mason amongst them in the chair, constituted themselves into the “Grand Lodge of England.” From London, “Grand Lodge Masonry” was transplanted to the Continent in 1721. In 1723 the Constitutions were revised, specifically Christian references being eliminated so that non-Christians (though not atheists) might join the Lodge without embarrassment.

The United Grand Lodge of England recognizes but three Degrees, though it makes allowance for the existence of certain so-called Higher Degrees. The Constitutions of 1813 contain the following statement. It is declared and pronounced that pure Ancient Masonry consists of three Degrees and no more, viz. Those of the Entered Apprentice, the Fellow Craft, and the Master Mason, including the Supreme Order of the Holy Royal Arch.” The last was regarded, not as a fourth Degree, but as the third completed.

On the Continent Freemasonry soon became deeply involved in politics, violently anti-clerical, and atheistic. In 1877 the “Grand Orient” of France deleted references to the Great Architect of the Universe from its constitutions so that Positivists and even those who had no belief in God at all could be admitted. The Grand Lodge of England protested against this adoption of atheism, but in vain; and in 1878 English Masonry severed all relations with the Grand Orient, forbidding its own members to enter into any communication with the French Lodges.

CONDEMNATIONS

It was not long before Freemasonry on the Continent was brought to the notice of the Catholic Church. Within ten years of its establishment in France its existence and nature had become known by the publication of its Constitutions and Ritual, and by the subversive activities of its members in relation to both Church and State.

In 1738, therefore, Pope Clement XII condemned the Society of Freemasons, and forbade Catholics to have anything to do with it under pain of excommunication. In 1751 Pope Benedict XIV renewed this condemnation, stressing the secularism, secrecy and revolutionary activities of the Society. Pius VI in 1775, Pius VII in 1821, Leo XII in 1825, Pius VIII in 1829, Gregory XVI in 1832, and Pius IX in 1846, all issued similar letters of condemnation. In 1884, since Freemasons disputed the authority of these Papal Documents on the grounds that they were based on erroneous information and were excessively severe, Pope Leo XIII issued his great Encyclical, Humanum Genus, declaring Freemasonry utterly incompatible with the Christian religion, and forbidding Catholics, as they valued their Faith and eternal salvation, to join it. Nine different Popes, therefore, have seriously forbidden to Catholics membership of the Masonic Lodge, and it is impossible to believe that they have not had very good reasons for doing so. Such decisions are not made lightly, nor without thorough investigation of all relevant facts.

There are those, of course, who accuse the Catholic Church of having taken up a very intolerant stand in this matter. But surely any Church has the right to put a ban on any society of which it does not approve. That should give no offence to anybody. After all, the decision in the matter rests with those affected by the ban-Catholics themselves. If a man wants to join a Club and is presented with a book of Rules, he cannot reasonably say,” This is sheer intolerance. How dare you talk to me of obligations!” The officials would rightly reply, “ Nonsense. You wish to become a member of this Club, and these are our Regulations. We cannot accept you unless you agree to conform to them.” So the Catholic Church has the right to legislate for those who choose to remain or to become Catholics.

Pleading with his own Anglican Church (unsuccessfully) to inquire into the compatibility of Freemasonry with Christianity, the Rev. Walton Hannah wrote in the Anglican Church Times,March 30th, 1951, “ If the Church has Christ’s sole authority to teach faith and morals, surely she has not only the right but the duty to investigate and to pronounce on the teachings of any other body which claims religious knowledge.”

But if the Anglican Church hesitates, other religious bodies have not hesitated to take the same stand as the Catholic Church in this matter. In 1925, General Booth addressed a letter to every Officer in the Salvation Army in which he said, “ No language of mine could be too strong in condemning any Officer’s affiliation with any Society which shuts Him (Christ) outside its temples; and which in its religious ceremonies gives neither Him nor His Name any place . . . the place where Jesus Christ is not allowed is no place for any Salvation Army Officer. As for the future, the Army’s views upon this matter will be made known to all who wish to become Officers, and. acceptance of these views will be necessary before candidates can be received for training; and, further, from this time it will be contrary to our regulations for any Officer to join such a Society.” In 1927, the Free Presbyterian Church of Scotland made abstention from the Lodge a condition of membership. In the same year the Wesleyan Methodist Conference in England unanimously adopted a resolution that the claims which have been put forward by Freemasons both in writing and in speech are wholly incompatible with Christianity.

In practice, of course, most Catholics are content with the fact that their Church forbids them to become Masons. They know that the Popes are not given to acting unwisely. They fully acknowledge their supreme authority over all members of the Church; and in a spirit of obedience they willingly accept their ruling in the matter.

But non-Catholics frequently ask for the reasons prompting such drastic legislation on the part of the Church, and Catholics themselves are often called upon to explain and defend it. It will be well, then, to make a brief survey of the whole question, dwelling for a few moments on each of the main points which render Masonry unacceptable in the eyes of the Catholic Church.

The reasons for the Catholic prohibition make a truly formidable list. For Freemasonry has been condemned as constituting a pagan religion of naturalism offering itself as a substitute for Christianity, as a secret society unlawful of its very nature, as exacting a morally-unjustified oath of allegiance, as subversive of both civil and religious authority, as a prolific source of injustice in social relationships, and as a movement essentially inimical to the welfare of the Catholic Church in particular.

If any one of these reasons can be substantiated, it is surely not a matter of surprise that the Catholic Church should proscribe Masonry as far as her own members are concerned. Yet there is a good and solid foundation for every one of them. Let us see.

MASONRY A RELIGION

It has often been said by Masons that “Freemasonry, though religious, is not a religion.” But that is an impossible subterfuge. For the word “religious” is an adjective, and it demands an answer to the further question, “From what religion is its religious character derived?” A man charged with treason does not refute the charge by saying, “ I am loyal!” The vital question is, “To what country are you loyal?” And so to the Mason we say, “According to what religion is Freemasonry religious?” And the only honest answer would be, “According to our own Masonic religion.”

For Masonry has its own dogmas, temples, ritual, and moral code. Like all other mystic sects through the ages, it claims to give its members a more profound understanding of the Great Architect of the Universe than is possible to those who have not been initiated into its secret rites and ceremonies.

The Masonic writer, Albert Mackey, tells us, “All our ceremonies commence and terminate with prayer.” The Rituals contain religious ceremonies for the opening and closing of various Lodge meetings, for the consecration of a new Lodge, for the laying of foundation stones, and for the dedication of Masonic Temples. They also include a special burial service for deceased members of the Craft. Needless to say, no Catholic who worships God according to Catholic religious rites is free to accept or engage in these non-Catholic religious rites

It must be remembered, too, that these Masonic religious rites are derived from, and are an expression of, the ancient pagan mystery religions. Bro. J. S. M. Ward, in his book, Freemasonry and the Ancient Gods,p. 347, tells us that “Freemasonry is the survivor of the ancient mysteries-nay, we may go further and call it the guardian of the mysteries.” If that be so, then it is an effort to do precisely that which St Paul so strongly denounced in his Epistle to the Galatians (iv. 8–9), “In those days, when you were ignorant of God, you were in servitude to gods who are really not gods at all; but now that you know God-or, rather, are known by God-how is it that you are turning back again to the weakness and poverty of the elemental spirits? Why do you want to be enslaved all over again by them?” (Moffatt’s translation).

But Masonry is not only a false religion. It aims at becoming the universal religion, to the exclusion of all others. If it declares that it is non-sectarian, if it denies that it is another religious denomination, that is only because it claims to be above all sects, upon which it looks tolerantly as merely partially true religions. But it is Masonry which claims to be the true religion, and it aims at becoming universal.

Dr Fort Newton, in The Builder,says, “We only pursue the Universal Religion.” In the book I quoted a moment ago, pp. 336–338, Bro. J. S. M. Ward, after urging the alliance of the Grand Lodges of all countries, says: “Then the time will be ripe for the formation of the Supreme Grand Lodge of the World, whose Grand Master could be elected for a term of years . . . filling a post compared with which even that of the Pope will fall into insignificance. . . . So, gradually, we can build up a Masonic Temple to the glory of God and the good of humanity. . . . Freemasonry is, I contend, the mightiest force in the world. All that is best in religion and nationality is united with all that is best in internationalism. Masonry has not survived the fall of mighty empires and the corroding hand of time to remain . . . merely a pleasant social club.”

But what is the nature of this religion? The” Old Charges” of 1738 declared it to be “ that religion in which all men agree.” “All men” would include Jews, Moslems, Hindus, Buddhists and Deists-the last-mentioned repudiating all ideas of supernatural revelation. At best this means a religion of natural Theism. And this religion is declared to be quite enough for man! A Christian may adhere to his Christian religion if he wishes. But it is not at all necessary for his salvation that he should do so.

Thus the “Masonic Services Association” series, Vol. 19, p. 14, says, “ Man is never closer to God than when he kneels, spiritually naked, at the Altar of Masonry.” And in the Freemasons’ Monitor, pp. 97–98, Sichels writes regarding the Third Degree,” We now find a man complete in morality and intelligence, with a state of religion added to ensure him the protection of the Deity; and to guard him from going astray. Nor can we conceive that anything more can be suggested which the soul of man requires.”

Even as I write I have before me a copy of a hymn after investiture in the First Degree, used at Lodge Hunters Hill, No. 139, U.G.L., N.S.W., one of the verses of which assures the candidate

“Pure as that badge thy life may be,

If by its teachings thou abide;

God’s Holy Face thine eyes shall see,

If thou wilt make that badge thy guide.”

And is there an English Mason who is not familiar with the plea, addressed to God in the name of his Masonry:

“By the badge and mystic sign,

Hear us, Architect Divine.”

If all I have recorded does not mean that the teaching and precepts of Masonry are enough to ensure a man’s salvation without the aid of any other religion, what does it mean? And how could any Catholic give even the appearance of accepting such a proposition?

In attempting to grapple with this problem, the Rev. J. L. C. Dart, an Anglican Masonic Chaplain, writing in Theology, April, 1951, says candidly, “We can’t answer without being unfaithful to Masonic obligation. . . . The light of Masonry is not in conflict withthe light of religion. It is something peculiar to itself; and there I must leave it.” But others can’t leave it at that!

A NON-CHRISTIAN RELIGION

The truth is that Masonry is definitely a non-Christian religion. The God of Masonry is not the Christian God. In the Royal Arch Degree the nature of the Masonic God is expressed by a combination of the names of Jahweh, Baal, and On (Osiris) in the word”JAH-BUL-ON”-the names of the pagan deities Baal and Osiris constituting part of the name of God.

Again, the Volume of the Sacred Law (V.S.L.) need not be the Bible. It can equally well be the Mahometan Koran or the Hindu Vedic Books. Writing in the Masonic Record,June, 1926, in an article entitled, “What Are Our Landmarks?,” Bro. T.H.R. explains that”the Second Landmark is the Volume of the Sacred Law, open in the Lodge. But the Bible is not, in Masonry, more than one of the Great Lights, and never has been, for the reason that Masons are not required to believe its teachings. . . . The stern fact is that we are constantly admitting Hindus, Chinese, Mohammedans, Parsees and Jews, not one of whom believes all the teachings of the Bible, and this forces the conclusion that Masonry regards the Bible only as a symbol.” The Oxford University Press publishes a special edition of the Bible for presentation to Masonic candidates containing a declaration that the Bible “itself is a symbol-that is, a part taken for the whole.” And in the same edition Dr Fort Newton explains that “the whole includes God’s revelation through the Bible, the Koran, the Vedas, etc.”!

But not only does Masonry claim that there is a hidden mystery of truth attainable only within its closed Lodges as though the fullness of divine revelation had not been given to mankind in Christianity; it positively excludes the name of Christ from its Rituals. The Masonic conception of the deity is the same as that of the Hindus and finds room for an interpretation in terms of Brahma, Vishnu and Shiva. Yet Christians believe that “there is no other name under heaven given to men, whereby we must be saved” (Acts iv. 12). If one puts Christ above all else, how can one join a religious body which does not accept Him as Supreme?

To this some Masons reply by saying that the “Higher Degrees” are Christian even if the Craft Degrees of Blue Masonry do derive their religious significance from pagan antiquity. But the Constitutions declare that “Ancient Masonry consists of three Degrees and no more” viz, the Craft Degrees. In any case, no one can get to the” Higher Degrees “unless he has first professed the lower pagan ones recognized by Grand Lodge. And even when he does get to those” Higher Degrees” he will find that any Christian symbols may be given meanings from the pagan mysteries.

The truth is that Christian interpretations of Masonry in any of its Degrees are not official. By its very Constitutions and its claim to be a universal fraternity, Masonry can never present such interpretations to the non-Christian world. Br0.1.S.M. Ward, in Freemasonry and the Ancient Gods,p. 347, writes, “Even our so-called Christian Degrees have taken on a Christian colour merely because, in the main, we are Christians, and not because they are in essence Christian.” To the same effect Dr Albert Mackey writes, in the Encyclopaedia of Freemasonry,” The interpretation of the symbols of Freemasonry from a Christian point of view is a theory adopted by some, but one which I think does not belong to the ancient system. The principles of Freemasonry preceded the advent of Christianity. If Masonry were merely a Christian institution, the Jew and the Moslem, the Brahman and the Buddhist, could not conscientiously partake of its illumination. But its universality is its boast. In its language, citizens of every nation may converse; at its altar men of all religions may kneel; to its creed disciples of every faith may subscribe.”

To all of which one must say “Not disciples of the Christian Faith, except those who are so ill-instructed that they don’t know what Christian Faith means, or those who are so illogical that they are not in the least worried by inconsistency in their behaviour; or those who are prepared to put aside their Christianity for the time being whenever it is convenient to do so.” One Anglican layman, Dr Arundell Esdaile, one time Secretary of the British Museum, stated in the East Grinstead Observer for March 2nd, 1951, that he left Masonry about two years ago, after being some twenty years in the Craft. And he declared that Freemasonry is fundamentally pagan and inconsistent with Christianity. “Clergy or laity,” he told his fellowAnglicans, “we should come out of it.”

The Catholic Church certainly leaves her members in no doubt as to their duty in this matter. To her is given the fullness of the revelation of God, in the custody of which she is safeguarded by the indwelling Presence of the Holy Spirit. And she tells Catholics that it is not possible to become Masons without an equivalent repudiation of their Christian Faith, which cannot but carry with it excommunication from the Church.

MASONIC SECRECY

Besides the religious issue, we are confronted with the fact that Masonry claims to be a secret Society, shrouded in mystery. Its literature loudly proclaims that it has hidden stores of knowledge in reserve for initiates.

That, however, is not a serious aspect of its secrecy. In reality, there is no” Masonic Secret” corresponding with such a claim. Each Mason may speculate to his heart’s content about the mystical significance of Masonry, and arrive at any conclusion he pleases. G. Oliver, in his book, The Historical Landmarks of Freemasonry Explained, Vol. I, p.11, quotes this very significant passage from the memoirs of the Mason Jacob Casanova de Seingalt,”No man knows all the secrets of Masonry, but every man keeps in view the prospect of discovering them. . . . Those who are made Masons for the purpose of learning the secrets may deceive themselves; for they may be fifty years Masters of Chairs, and yet not learn the secrets of the brotherhood. This secret is, of its own nature, invulnerable, for the Mason to whom it has become known can only have guessed it, and certainly not received it from anyone; he has discovered it because he has been in the lodge-marked, learned and inwardly digested. When he arrives at the discovery, he unquestionably keeps it to himself, not communicating it to his most intimate brother, because should this person not have the capability of discovering it for himself, he would likewise be wanting in the capacity to use it if he received it verbally. For this reason it will forever remain a secret.” (F.Q.R., Vol. I, N.S., p. 31.) The mystic science of Freemasonry we may, therefore, dismiss as a chimera.

What, then, is the real Masonic secret members are forbidden to reveal? It consists of the symbols and signs and passwords of the Lodge. Thus J. S. M. Ward, in his book, Freemasonry: Its Aims and Ideals, p. 144, says, “The secrets of Masonry are her signs, words and tokens; these the oath regards, and no more. The common language of Masons in conversation on the subject of Masonry is a proof that this is the opinion of the Fraternity in respect to the application of the oaths.” This was confirmed by the Rev. I. M. Lewis, a Masonic Chaplain, in Theology, April, 1951, who wrote that Masonic teachings consist of legends and myths full of errors and false doctrines which are taken only as a peg on which to hang anethical code. “The one thing taken seriously,” he said, “is the preservation of secret grips and words that enable a man to show that he is a Freemason.”

But there is more to it than that. Ordinary members are caught by this food for their mystery-loving instinct. Then they are used for policies of which they know nothing-as Masonic influence is used in this direction or that according to the practical programmes, social and political, of different leaders in different countries. And it is for this reason that the Catholic Church condemns the secrecy of Freemasonry.

Any society may have its secrets. Every family lawfully has its own private affairs. But it is the particular kind of secret society which Freemasonry happens to be that is condemned by the Church. For in Masonry everything is masked. Other societies, even though they have their “confidential business,” at least declare their objectives and programmes so that prospective members may decide to join or not join accordingly. Not so in Masonry. The candidate must be prepared to advance step by step in the dark, never presuming to try to find out whither his next step will lead. Moreover, he is bound by oath never to reveal anything that transpires in the Lodge. Meantime, the Masonic leaders possess an uncontrolled and irresponsible power subject to the scrutiny neither of the civil society in which they function, nor of any ecclesiastical authorities. This evasion of all outside supervision is most dangerous to the welfare of both State and Church.

In 1913 an Italian paper, Idea Nazionale, conducted a kind of Gallup Poll, canvassing opinions as to the relationship of secret societies to public welfare. General Cadorna, later to be Commander-in-Chief during the 1914–18 War, wrote in reply: “In my opinion the survival of Freemasonry and of any secret association is incompatible with the condition of modern, free, public life. Freedom and light are united together. Instead, to combat obscurantism, as Freemasonry pretends, and at the same time seek refuge in darkness, are contradictory terms. The action of Freemasonry inevitably damages public life, and particularly military institutions. . . . . . . . Discipline, loyalty and frankness, which should always predominate, are in open contradiction with the mystery that shrouds the activity of this sect.”

Benedetto Croce, the Italian philosopher, declared that secret societies always engender suspicion, and undermine the mutual confidence citizens should have in one another.

In its issue of March 30th, 1951, the Anglican Church Times gave expression to similar anxieties. “The appeal to mystery and to secrecy,” it declared, “constitutes the greatest charge against the Craft. Rome forbids Masonry because any form of secret society must conflict with the authority of the Church. Anglicanism has not quite the same feeling for authority and has never raised the question of secrecy. It may be that the time has come to reconsider this position.”

UNLAWFUL OATH

A further reason for the condemnation of Freemasonry is found when we turn to a consideration of the Masonic Oath in itself. The form of this Oath varies somewhat in different Rituals and in the different Degrees, but these variations are secondary, and any one form can be considered typical.

The first form met with by an aspirant is that of the First Degree for an Entered Apprentice Mason, and it runs as follows:

“I,—, in the presence of the Great Architect of the Universe, and of this worthy and worshipful Lodge of Ancient, Free and Accepted Masons, regularly assembled and properly dedicated, of my own free will and accord, do hereby and hereon most solemnly and sincerely promise and swear that I will always hide, conceal and never reveal, any part or parts, point or points, of the secrets or mysteries of, or belonging to, Free and Accepted Masons in Masonry, which may heretofore have been known by, shall now, or may at any future period be communicated to me, unless it be to a true and lawful Brother or Brethren, and not even to him or them until after due trial, strict examination, or a full conviction that he or they are worthy of that confidence, or in the body of a Lodge just, perfect and regular. I further solemnly promise that I will not write those secrets, indite, carve, mark, engrave, or otherwise delineate them, or cause or suffer the same to be so done by others, if in my power to prevent it, upon anything movable or immovable under the canopy of Heaven, whereby or whereupon any letter, character or figure, or the least trace of any letter, character or figure, may become legible or intelligible to anyone in the world, so that our secrets, arts, and hidden mysteries may improperly become known, and that through my unworthiness. These several points I solemnly swear to observe without evasion, equivocation, or mental reservation of any kind, under no less a penalty, on the violation of any or either of them, than that of having my throat cut across, my tongue torn out by the roots, and my body buried in the sand of the sea at low water mark, or a cable’s length from the shore where the tide regularly ebbs and flows twice in twenty-four hours; or the less horrid but no less effective punishment of being branded as a wilfully perjured individual, void of all moral worth, and totally unfit to be received into this worshipful Lodge, or any other warranted Lodge, or society of men who prize honour and virtue above the external advantages of rank and fortune. So help me God, and keep me steadfast in this my great and Solemn Obligation, being that of an Entered Apprentice Freemason.”

At the conclusion of this profession, the Worshipful Master says to the candidate: “What you have just repeated may be regarded as a very serious promise; but, as a pledge of your fidelity, and to render it binding on your conscience as a Solemn Obligation, I call upon you to seal it with your lips once upon the Volume of the Sacred Law.”

The taking of such an Oath the Catholic Church declares to be utterly opposed to all sound moral principles. Nobody is justified in binding himself in such a way. That God’s name should be invoked upon such an outrageously-worded formula is irreverent to the point of blasphemy. Unnecessary oaths are not lawful in the sight of God, in any case, involving such a vain use of His name. If Masonry is merely a benevolent society, such oaths are certainly not necessary. Secrecy and darkness are not needed for philanthropic works. Nor are there any philosophical, scientific, religious or even political secrets proper to Masonry which could justify them. The oaths, therefore, are null and void, and have no ethical force whatever. Masonry, in fact, not being a department of either Church or State, has no authority to administer such oaths, and still less authority to inflict the threatened physical punishments they contain. Then, too, no individual has any right to make such a blind surrender of his conscience to the unknown. People must be sure that what they promise on oath they may lawfully do. And Freemasonry, unlike other societies, as we have seen, does not provide candidates in advance with a prospectus or list of the objects and aims of the Society. One has to become a member first to know what is involved; and even then he is not told all.

In attempting to meet these difficulties, Masons say that candidates are assured beforehand,” In such vows there will be found nothing incompatible with your moral, civil, or religious duties.” But who gives that assurance? The candidate has to take the word of Masons themselves for that, not the voice of his own conscience. And how can there be nothing in such vows incompatible with moral, civil, or religious duties, when the very formula itself is immoral, the penalties invoked an unjustified usurpation of civil authority, and the whole ceremony a participation in pagan religious rites to which no rightly-informed Christian could subscribe?

Some Masons, in their embarrassment, endeavour to laugh the whole thing off. Thus one Master Mason, Bro. W. G. Branch, wrote to the Anglican Church Times, March 30th, 1951, “Concerning the oaths and obligations we may say: Cowboys and Indians!” But if it is only play-acting, then it is certainly wrong to use God’s name in such mock-solemnity. Another Mason, the Rev. J. L. C. Dart, writing in Theology, April, 1951, denied that the Masonic obligation could really be called an oath at all. “It’s just a serious promise,” he said, “with a prayer to be enabled to keep it.” But look at the formula again. “I most solemnly and sincerely promise andswear. . . .” (under penalty of) “being branded as a wilfully perjured individual.” And does not the Worshipful Master say to the candidate afterwards that he must kiss the Volume of the Sacred Law and thus render his serious promise”binding on conscience as a Solemn Obligation”?

When, in May, 1951, Dr Hubert S. Box proposed that the Convocation of Canterbury should set up an inquiry into Freemasonry, the Rev. Alexander Morris protested in horror, “Are they seriously suggesting that all clergy be compelled to renounce their vows made at their initiation and subsequent advancement in the Craft?”

In view of all this, the Rev. Walton Hannah, an Anglican clergyman, in a press interview on an article he had published, “Should a Christian be a Freemason?” rightly said, “I claim that theologically the Freemasons’ ritual is full of pagan superstition. My other great objection is that Masons must take blood-curdling oaths on the Bible. These oaths carry terrific penalties which amount to a murder pact if they are taken literally, and high-sounding nonsense which amounts to blasphemy if they are not to be taken literally.”

But can one imagine a Catholic taking this unlawful oath, and sealing it with his lips upon the Bible (whatever Masons may think of that Sacred Volume), whilst speaking in the very formula of “men who prize honour and virtue above the external advantages of rank and fortune”! Solely for the sake of temporal advantages such a Catholic is throwing honour and virtue to the winds, forswearing his religion, and turning his back upon God!

SUBVERSIVE ACTIVITIES

When we turn to the practical results of Freemasonry, we find its activities so opposed to the welfare of civil government and of the Catholic Church that the real scandal would be the absence of any condemnation by the Popes!

Take first the impact of Freemasonry upon civil government. It must be remembered that they were the Continental Lodges which were first brought to the notice of Rome. And no one can deny that these Lodges took an active part in the revolutionary movements in France, Austria, Italy, Switzerland, Spain, Portugal and Sweden. Freemasons themselves do not dispute this.

Thus Professor John Robinson, an English Mason, was so shocked by his experience of Masonry on the Continent that he wrote a book on the subject, declaring that “In every quarter of Europe where Freemasonry has been established the Lodges have become hotbeds of public mischief.”

Richard Ellison, an ex-Mason, whilst trying to safeguard English Masonry by saying that if it falls under the Catholic ban it is because “the innocent suffer with the guilty,” feels compelled to admit “The truth is that Masonry is more objectionable in some countries than in others. Unquestionably it has been dangerous to the State on the Continent.”

If we turn to a consideration of the Church, we find still more blatant exhibitions of Masonry’s hostility. Thus, on September 20th, 1902, Senator Delpech, President of the Grand Orient in France, declared in a speech to his fellowMasons “The triumph of the Galilean has lasted many centuries; but now his day is over. . . . He passes away to join in the dust of the ages the other divinities of India, Greece and Rome, who saw so many deceived creatures prostrate before their altars. Brother Masons, we rejoice that we are not without our share in this overthrow of false prophets. The Romish Church began to decay from the day on which organized Masonry was established.” In 1913, the Grand Orient declared officially that its aim was “to crush Catholicism in France first, and then elsewhere.” The Swiss Lodge echoed these sentiments by saying: “We have one irreconcilable enemy-the Pope and clericalism.” It is true that English Masonry repudiates such sentiments and activities. It denies all political and anti-religious aims, and points to the fact that, in 1878, all relations were broken off with the Grand Orient in France because of its professed atheism.

But there are many factors which rob this step of sufficient significance to warrant the Catholic Church exempting English Masonry from her ban-quite apart from all the other reasons which make that ban strictly applicable to it.

We must keep in mind that Freemasonry went to the Continent from England, and the Masonry that went from England had in it that which enabled it to be the source of so many abuses. And it is not without significance that, although Herbert Morrison rejected it, a Labour M.P. Fred I.ongden asked a question in Parliament, in April, 1951, suggesting that a Royal Commission be appointed to inquire into Freemasonry itself, “concerning their influence in personal appointments and interference in constitutional institution.”

Again, Freemasonry claims to be international, above all national loyalties, though it is not a supernatural but a merely natural society which should be subject to at least the supervision of civil authority. It has no more right than the “Comintern” to claim international status, and to direct the activities of groups of citizens independently of their own proper national allegiances.

Furthermore, although English Lodges have broken with the Grand Orient of France, they have not broken with other European and American Lodges still in communication with the Grand Orient. In fact, the American Freemason Albert Pike dismisses the English disclaimer with the words: “It is idle to protest. We are Masons, and we recognize the French Brotherhood as Freemasons in virtue of solidarity. Ours is a Universal Fraternity.”

The Catholic Church, then, cannot be blamed for refusing to accept the distinction between Continental and English Masonry. But whatever may be said on this subject, it is only one aspect of the question. Quite apart from subversive activities, the other reasons already given would be more than enough in themselves to justify the general prohibition on the part of the Catholic Church.

SOCIAL INJUSTICE

Still another aspect of Freemasonry deserving of consideration is its liability to undue influence in our social and business life, against all demands of justice.

It is a matter of common knowledge that men are urged to join the Masons as a means of”getting on in life,” despite the Masonic rule that no one must ever be invited to do so. That rule is more honoured in the breach than in the observance of it. One Mason said to me personally, “I was told that I would never get anywhere unless I joined the Lodge; and from theday I did join, my business was on its feet.” Wilmshurst, in his book, Masonic Initiation,p. 197, says, “It is a well-known fact that commercial houses today find it advantageous for business purposes to insist upon their more important employees being members of the Order.” Is it any wonder that non-Masons feel themselves discriminated against, and that for them jobs are harder to find, and promotion slower?

Writing in the Anglican Church Times, March 20th, 1951, the Rev. I. D. Allen complains of Masonic influence even in his own Church. “It has been seriously suggested,”he says, “that if I wish to get on in the Church I ought to become a Freemason; and numerous Episcopal instances have been quoted!”

Public administration is also not immune from danger. In 1913, Professor Cab, Under-Secretary for State in Italy, wrote in the Idea Nazionalethat a law would be justified “declaring the unsuitability of members of the Masonic Lodge to hold certain offices (such as those in the Judiciary, in the Army, in the Education Department, etc.), the high moral and social value of which is compromised by any hidden and therefore uncontrollable tie, and by any motive of suspicion, and lack of trust on the part of the public. Only a few years ago a Judge in a N.S.W. Law Court declared that he could not help concluding that, in the case before him, Masonic influence was preventing necessary evidence from being given, even by police officers themselves.

DANGER TO THE FAITH

Officially and constitutionally, Freemasonry within the British Empire declares that it has never been, and is not, opposed to the Catholic religion, or to any other religion. It is prepared to welcome members of all religions, and absolutely forbids members to discuss their religious differences within the Lodge. If Catholics cannot become Masons, they say, it is not because the Masonic Lodge is not prepared to receive them, but because the Catholic Church forbids her own members to join the Lodge.

But, as we have seen, even English Masonry cannot be called a merely non-religious Club or Society. It maintains “Deism” as a sufficient religion. It consecrates its Temples; has its own religious teachings; prescribes its own ritual; sings its own hymns. It is a non-Christian religion. If it admits Christians without asking them to repudiate their faith, it holds the anti-Christian principle that Christianity is not necessary.

Thousands of members of the Lodge, therefore, have ended by saying, “Masonry is religi on enough for me.” And they have drifted into complete indifference to Christianity. For them, Masonry has indeed become a rival religion to Christianity, and a substitute for it. And prominent Masonic writers have not hesitated to say that that is just how it should be.

Mr W. L. Wilmshurst, President of the Installed Masters’ Association, writes, “ It is well for a man to be born in a Church, but terrible for him to die in one; for in religion there must be growth. A young man is to be censured who fails to attend the Church of his nation; the elderly man is equally to be censured if he does attend; he ought to have outgrown what the Church offers, and to have attained a higher order of religious life.” That higher order of religious life is, of course, Masonic! “Those who feel the need of richer fare than the Churches provide,” declares Wilmshurst, “may find it in the ancient gnosis to which Freemasonry serves as a portal of entrance” (Masonic Initiation, pp. 215–220).

All forms of Freemasonry, therefore, whether Continental or English, are forbidden by the Catholic Church. How could it be otherwise! For the Catholic religion claims to be the one true religionand one can’t have two religions, Catholicism and Masonry. Intelligent Masons themselves realize this. Thus A. E. Waite, in his book Emblematic Freemasonry, p. 222,admits frankly: “Rome acted logically when it condemned Masonry. . . . . it could not do otherwise from its own standpoint, and it can never rescind the judgment until it renounces its ownaffirmed tides.”

EMINENT ANGLICANS

Recently much publicity was given to the fact that the late King George VI was, and that the Archbishop of Canterbury and about half of the Anglican Bishops are Freemasons; and it has been urged that surely they would not belong to the Lodge were it really deserving of the strictures of the Catholic Church in regard to it. But I do not think any Catholic could find that consideration very impressive. That the King was a Mason need be no more than a formality. If he saw nothing wrong with Masonry, it can easily be that he had never gone into the subject any more than many ordinary Masons who have never regarded the Lodge as anything more than a benevolent friendly society. Nor could any Catholic feel justified in becoming a Mason merely because the King was a member of the Lodge. After all, he was also head of the Anglican Church, and no Catholic regards that as a sufficient reason for becoming an Anglican, or for holding that there can be nothing wrong with Anglicanism.

As for the Masonic membership of many Anglican Bishops and clergy, Anglicans themselves are becoming less and less happy about that. In an article in Theology, January, 1951,the Rev. Walton Hannah complained that “the presence of bishops and other clergymen at Lodge meetings has lulled the apprehensions of the average non-Mason into a widely accepted belief that Freemasonry is no more than a benevolent society, full of sociability and high moral principles, with a few probably trivial secrets thrown in for excitement.”

In the May following the publication of that article, therefore, the Rev. Dr Hubert S. Box asked the Convocation of Canterbury to set up a Committee to investigate Freemasonry and decide whether or not it has pagan rites and is idolatrous, and whether membership of a Masonic Lodge is compatible with the teachings of the Christian Faith.

Convocation, for the time being, has refused to face the issue. There are too many of the Anglican clergy in high positions in the Church of England who are Masons to risk their displeasure. Non-Masonic Anglican clergy have retorted rather bitterly that the large proportion of Masons who have secured preferment and who occupy eminent positions in the Church of England owe this precisely to Masonic influence. To the plea that the presence of Anglican clergy in Masonry is a check on its becoming a rival non-Christian religion they have replied that by its very Constitutions Freemasonry excludes any possibility of Christian control. Masonry must be controlled according to non-Christian principles; and long before Masonry is “Christianized” these clergy will be “Masonized.”

Meantime, not unjustly, a Methodist clergyman, the Rev. C. Penney Hunt, in his book, The Menace of Freemasonry to the Christian Faith, asks how Anglican Bishops can refuse to enter the pulpits of Nonconformist Churches where at least the Name of Christ is held in honour, pleading that they dare not be disloyal to the New Testament doctrine of the Church, and then assist in the “dedication” of a heathen Masonic Temple; or how they can pretend to justify their separation from Rome on the ground that they merely cut out “Rome’s pagan accretions” and then embrace a Freemasonry which has cut out all specifically Christian elements and incorporated pagan mythologies!

However, whatever the uncertainty of Protestants in this matter, no room for doubt can possibly exist for Catholics. The clear and definite guidance of their Church has been put before them all.

DUTY OF CATHOLICS

The many Papal condemnations of Freemasonry should be final for every Catholic. The first Marquis of Ripon was Grand Master of Freemasonry in England. He became convinced of the truth of the Catholic Church and resigned his office, severing all connections with the Lodge, in order to become a Catholic. At the same time he published a letter of explanation saying that he himself had seen nothing wrong with being a Mason, and that he had abandoned Freemasonry solely in obedience to the Holy See. It was only later on, as he grew into a deeper understanding and appreciation of his Catholic Faith that he realized the soundness of the reasons upon which the Papal Decrees were based. But from the very beginning he accepted the disciplinary authority of the Catholic Church, to faith in which he had been led by the grace of God.

Few Masons, however, who have ever studied the question at all, are under any illusions in this matter. They know that Catholic principles can never be harmonized with Freemasonry, and that of their very nature they make it impossible for a Catholic to become a Mason without a serious violation of conscience.

So we find Bro. S. S. Medhurst writing in The Builder, a magazine devoted to Masonic news and teachings, urging the rejection of Catholic applicants on the score that no Catholic can be a good Mason and a good Catholic. “If he won’t be true to his Church,” he says, “how can we expect him to be true to us? Masonry does not exclude Catholics, but Catholics exclude themselves, so long as they areCatholics.”

In the same strain Joseph W. Pomfrey, editor of Five Points Fellowship, a Masonic journal, wrote that a Catholic becoming a member of the Masonic Order cannotbe true to both his Church and Masonry. “It is fair to infer,” he declares, “that it is not the sublime teachings of Freemasonry that attracted the Roman Catholic, but only the substantial benefits he hoped would accrue to him by becoming a Mason.”

If tha t is how Catholics who have joined their ranks are looked upon by Masons one can’t imagine them being very happy in their new surroundings! I know that Catholics who have been invited to become Masons have been assured that those who have already done so are more than content. But are they? Possibly that assurance may be true of a few who have lost their faith completely, and their self-respect as well. But others certainly do not feel so happily situated. Deep in their hearts they are miserable, and they live in the hope of renouncing Masonry before they die, and of being reconciled with the Catholic Church. But they don’t all get the opportunity.

What, then, is to be said to a Catholic who is wavering under pressure from persuasive Masonic friends and business associates? Non-Catholics, who view things differently from Catholics, must be left to their own consciences. But to a Catholic who begins to think that there’s no harm, after all, in becoming a Mason, one can but say, speaking as a Catholic to a Catholic: “If it be no harm to prefer worldly advantages to your religious fidelity, to take an unlawful oath, to call upon God to witness that oath by kissing the Bible as Judas kissed Christ when betraying Him, to be a traitor to the Catholic Church, to forfeit a state of grace for that of mortal sin, to deprive oneself of one’s right to the Sacraments, to undermine one’s spirit of faith and drift gradually to complete religious indifference, to give great scandal to one’s fellow- Catholics, to be excommunicated by the Catholic Church, to risk one’s eternal salvation-if all these things amount to no harm whatever, well and good. But no one with a spark of Catholic Faith left could persuade himself that such is the case.

Every Catholic who has ever joined the Masonic Lodge has been well aware that he has made a choice guilty in the sight of God and of the Church, and with an injury to his own soul for which not the gaining of the whole world could be sufficient compensation.

The duty of Catholics is clear. Under no circumstances may they become Freemasons.

********

Catholics In Name Only

BY REV. DR. L. RUMBLE, M. S. C

INDEX

THIS booklet is concerned with the tragedy that has come upon more Catholics in this country than is generally realized. It is the tragedy of religious indifference; the tragedy of the merely nominal Catholic who has become the victim of the prevalent atmosphere of sheer secularism, who has drifted from the practice of his Faith, who no longer attends Mass and receives the Sacraments, and who gives little or no thought to those abiding and eternal issues which alone are of vital and supreme importance.

Again and again it has been noticed that, in response to a compulsory census, whether civic or military, ever so many people will put themselves down as Catholics who are missing from the statistical returns compiled by Church officials.

And there is little room for doubt that the majority of these missing Catholics are missing Mass, missing their prayers, missing a host of blessings and consolation which they try to persuade themselves they don’t miss at all in this life; and they seldom advert to their danger of missing all prospects of eternal happiness in the next life.

Now if you, who happen to be reading this booklet, are one of the missing ones, it is to you that I wish particularly to speak. I want to remind you of things you have too easily forgotten; or to which, perhaps, you have never given any real thought at all. For if you are a “should-be” Catholic, there is a glorious inheritance which is rightfully yours, even though at present you do not claim it. It has obligations, of course, as well as privileges; and maybe you feel a sense of relief from the obligations in waiving your claim to the privileges. But in reality the privileges far outweigh the obligations, and you are missing far more than you realize in just letting yourself drift.

ALWAYS A CATHOLIC

That is easily said, I know. But we’ll see more about that as we go along. For the moment, let us begin where everything began for you in this particular matter. If you describe yourself as a Catholic, it is because you were at least baptized or christened a Catholic. That means that you can never really cease to be a Catholic. For baptism is an indelible and irrevocable action which cannot be undone. It literally marks one off, sets one aside, branding the very soul as the property of Jesus Christ and a member of the Catholic Church.

At one time firms used to paste labels on the bottles in which they marketed their products. But labels are easily removed. For greater protection, therefore, enterprising firms got the bottle manufacturers to mould their name into the very glass, making it part of the bottle. Then it could never be removed so long as the vessel itself continued to exist.

It’s rather like that with baptism. Once a Catholic, always a Catholic. However we may forget, however far we wander, we are still Catholics. Were a Catholic to die and be brought back to life again, he could not be re-baptized. He is still what he always was-a Catholic. Even the taunt, uttered in bitter hatred and anger-I have heard it-”You’re a Catholic and you’ll never be anything else,” is but expressing the literal truth.

Of course there is a difference between “being” a Catholic and “living” as a Catholic. By our baptism we become simply Catholics; not good ones; not bad ones. Once baptized we are all equally Catholics. But the kind of Catholic each one is, good, bad, or indifferent, will be determined by the way in which each onelives. That’s why Catholics vary so greatly in quality. By physical birth we became children of our natural parents. But that did not compel us to become what our parents would have wished us to become. So by baptismal re-birth we became children of God. But that also could not compel us to become what God wanted us to become. We have free will, that we may make of ourselves and of our baptismal inheritance what we choose. However, of that we shall see more later.

BEST OF RELIGIONS

One thing we do know. If we are Catholics, whatever we ourselves are making of our religion in practice, ours is the best of all religions on the face of the earth. “Yes, I”m a Catholic; but not much of a one, so don’t judge the Catholic religion by me!” How often that has been said

The truth is that the Catholic religion is the most perfectly balanced and beautiful religion the world has ever seen; the religion given by God for the eternal salvation of mankind; the religion which history shows to have been the greatest of all influences for good through the twenty centuries of our civilization; the religion in which millions have found peace of soul, and which the saints of every age declare with one voice to have been the secret of the heroic lives all the world has been compelled to admire.

I”m not saying that because I happen to be a Catholic. Others who are not Catholics have paid their tributes to the beauty and power of Catholicism. Writing in the ““Hibbert Journal,” of July, 1930, the Rev. Lloyd Thomas, a Protestant minister of Birmingham, England, said, “We can all be magnanimous enough to recognize that Rome is the steward of the moral witness of the Christian Church. The supreme attraction of Rome is to be found in its ethical rigourism. She represents the last loyalty of the human race to its own highest moral standards. She is the steel barrier of Christianity against the overwhelming invasion of the corrupting neopaganism of our times.”

I had lunch recently with a prominent Freemason, the Grand Master of his Lodge, who said to me, “I know you’re right, old chap, and I”11 probably become a Catholic some day. But not yet.” However he was not lost to all sense of justice. And at the lunch I have mentioned he told me of this incident.

“I was talking to a fellow Mason one day,” he said, “when he began to voice his objections to the Catholic Church, de—claring that he could not stand her intolerance.”

“I DISLIKE THE CATHOLIC CHURCH FOR THE SAME REASON AS YOURSELF,” I SAID TO HIM. “DO YOU KNOW WHY WE DISLIKE HER SO MUCH?”

“WHY?” HE ASKED

“Because,” I answered, “she tells us we mustn’t do the wrong things we want to do. Let’s get the record straight. No one ever leaves the Catholic Church in order to become better. And if a man drops his Catholic religion because it forbids his own rotten conduct it is because he himself is no good, not because there’s anything wrong with his religion. I have never known anyone to abandon the Catholic religion and be the better for doing so, whilst no one has ever sincerely become a Catholic except for higher ideals than he had before. And if we can’t bring ourselves to admit that, we can at least have the grace to be silent on the subject.”

My friend’s fellow Mason did not pursue the conversation. But it is not difficult to understand the impression nonCatholics have of the intolerance of the Catholic Church. If they haven’t the Catholic Faith, what else are they to think? Take the position.

The Catholic Church knows that she is unique, the one divinely authorized custodian of the Truth revealed by God in Jesus Christ. People are shocked by her claim to be the one true Church; but she makes that claim-she is the only one that does-and she is ready to prove it by the evidence of Sacred Scripture, of history, and of reason. Logically, she makes equally uncompromising claims upon the lives of her members. She demands that, as men went from God in the first place by disobedience, so they will retrace their steps by obedience. If religion is to get us back to God, that must be the very essence of religion. It was certainly the very essence of the life of Christ Himself whose motto had been written in advance, “Behold I come to do Thy Will, 0 God.”

It is this Catholic religion which has been, and is, to millions of people the light of their minds and the pledge of their salvation. For Catholic worship is all to one purpose-to make us better, to unite us to God, to console and strengthen us in the trials of life, to ensure our happiness in heaven. It is the only philosophy worth while-religion perfecting the complete human being, body and soul, mind and heart, for time and eternity.

That is the religion to which all baptized Catholics belong: the missing ones as well as those who have refused to drift.

GLORIOUS TRADITIONS

The missing ones, who have never known any other religion than that of their baptism, and who perhaps know very little beyond the fact that they ought to be Catholics, owe even that much to the heroic and unswerving fidelity of a—long line of Catholics before them. For if you are one of the missing Catholics today, you are at least a descendant of those who kept the Faith in the past, often enduring incredible sufferings and privations rather than forsake it. They are the nonCatholics who are the descendants of those who abandoned their religion under the stress of persecution. That story, of course, could lead us a long way back.

The early Christians, during the first three hundred years when it was death to be a Catholic, braved all penalties and took all risks rather than desert the same Faith as that which we profess.

Nearer to hand is the Protestant Reformation period. In the face of the most violent measures of repression, confiscation of property, and threats to their lives, nations like Ireland and Poland, large sections of Germany and Holland, though only a handful, alas, in England and Scotland, remained true to their Catholic inheritance. Their fidelity to their religion did not mean less loyalty to their country, generosity and devotedness in its service, and courage in its defence. But they had a loyalty to God and to their conscience which they were determined also to maintain; and the faith of succeeding generations of Catholics was a legacy made possible by their fidelity.

I am very conscious, as a convert, when speaking to those whose forefathers remained true to the Faith, that I myself am a descendant of those who deserted it. Who is the son of renegades, that he should urge the children of the martyrs to stand firm? Yet I do not often presume to do that. This particular booklet is quite exceptional. For my lifework has been almost invariably directed towards those still in the ranks of those from whom I came, the ranks of those born of nonCatholic parents and who, through no fault of their own, have neither known Catholicism nor dreamed that there they might find the Truth.

APOSTOLATE TO NON-CATHOLICS

For over a quarter of a century now my main duty has been that of replying by radio to inquiries about the Catholic religion submitted by the general public. And that, of course, ties one down to the isolated and disconnected problems each listener wants to hear discussed. However, I have also been able to undertake many missions to non-Catholics when a much more comprehensive presentation of the Catholic religion has been possible.

It is in such missions above all that one can enkindle a hunger for Catholicism in the hearts of those who have never known it, a new desire which gives them no peace until they too possess this greatest of all God’s blessings to mankind. Catholics attending such missions have benefited greatly from them. How many of them have said, “Father, I have learned more about my religion hearing it explained to others than I ever knew before!” But such missions are not primarily for them. They are for the “other sheep” whom Our Lord wills also to be brought into the one fold of the Catholic Church. And hundreds of converts have resulted from them. As one of them put it, “I went away feeling that I was missing ever so much by not being a Catholic!”

To instruct and receive converts into the Church is a source of perpetual edification, and often of astonishment. They come so humbly, “Father, I don’t know what I have ever done to deserve so great a grace as this,” one will say. Or again, “I don’t know how I lived all those years without being a Catholic.” Or another, “Now I must set to work and make up for lost time. I”11 never overtake your good Catholics who have had the Faith since childhood and have been able to receive Holy Communion all their lives!”

These converts firmly believe they have discovered a joy which has been the life-long experience of the born Catholic; as it could and should be, were every Catholic to take his religion seriously. Read what some of them have had to say!

JOY OF CONVERTS

“Every hour,” wrote Frederick William Faber, “so augments inward peace that I cannot but yearn that those I love should enjoy the same privileges with myself. A new light seems to be shed on everything-a light so clear as to surprise me.”

“From the time I became a Catholic,” Cardinal Newman wrote in his turn, “I have been in perfect peace and content- ment. It was like coming into port after a rough sea.”

Father Maturin said, of his own experience, “There has been an ever -deepening sense of security, with moments of intense realization of the glory and strength of the City of God, whose walls are salvation and whose gates are peace.”

“The Church promises a great deal,” exclaimed Robert Hugh Benson, “but my experience is that she gives ten times more. The Catholic Church is supremely what she promises to be. She is the priceless pearl for which the greatest sacrifice is not too great.”

“The Church is fairer than we dared to dream,” declared Kegan Paul, “and my first fervour was as nothing to what I feel now. Day by day the mystery of the Altar seems greater, the unseen world nearer, God more a Father, Our Lady more tender, the great company of the Saints more friendly, my Guardian Angel closer to my side.”

IMMENSE SACRIFICES

“No sacrifice is too great,” said Benson. Thousands of converts have had that conviction. I have seen staggering sacrifices made by converts I myself have received into the Church; relatives alienated, friends lost, legacies forfeited, business prospects ruined. With St. Paul, as Monsignor Knox gives us his words, they have said, “There is nothing I do not write down as loss compared with the high privilege of knowing Christ Jesus, my Lord. For love of Him I have lost everything, treat everything else as refuse, if I may have Christ to my credit” (Phil:, III, 8).

How many times I have said to careless Catholics, “If you had had to make anything like the sacrifices to keep your faith which so many converts have made to become a Catholic, you would not throw your religion away as though it were worthless! But you have not appreciated it, you have just taken it for granted, because you got it too easily, too cheaply.”

So often they are those who have been without it who know how to make the best use of it when they get it. But surely everyone bearing the Catholic name would agree that it shouldn’t he so, and that those who have had the Faith all their lives should be the ones who have grown into the greater appreciation of it.

HOSTILITY OF UNBELIEVERS

The enemies of the Catholic Church certainly do not take her cheaply! They are not indifferent to her, and wanting in enthusiasm in their efforts to bring about her destruction. Throughout the world atheists, secularists, and communists wage continual war against her. Communists, of course, wherever they are in power have come right out into the open.

A Catholic girl, recently escaped from Hungary, tells how she went to church one Sunday morning in her entirely Catholic village. But, with all the other Catholics arriving for Mass, she found the doors of the building closed, a communist guard lined up to prevent the people from entering, and on the door of the church a great placard: “THIS CHURCH IS CLOSED- BECAUSE THERE IS NO GOD.”

But in our own democracies, secularists, unbelieving materialists, are no less active. In season and out of season, in books, newspapers, and from public platforms, they seek to undermine Christian principles and practices, concentrating their attention on the Catholic Church which they instinctively recognize as the last stronghold of the Christian religion in this world.

Theirs is the new paganism with which Catholics have to contend, as the early Christians had to contend with the paganism of the ancient Roman world. It is not a conflict between morality and immorality-a conflict with people accepting Christian teaching but not living up to it. It is a conflict between two different moralities, secular and Christian. The one holds that man is but an animal, with no future beyond this life, and no obligation to live as if he were not a mere animal. The other holds that man is a child of God consisting of a body and of a soul made in God’s image and likeness, a soul immortal of its very nature and destined to live on forever in a state of eternal happiness or eternal misery according to the way in which he has behaved during his time of probation on earth.

But the fight against the sheer and dreary yet very militant irreligion of the secularists is not the only battle to be fought.

RELIGIOUS BIGOTRY

Unfortunately, sympathizing with the attack upon the Catholic Church by complete unbelievers, religious prejudice and bigotry have joined forces with them. If ever people knew not what they were doing, they are those non-Catholics who, whilst professing to be Christians, seek in every way to discredit and destroy the Catholic Church. For if she goes, their churches go also.

What can one say of them? Is their hatred of the Catholic religion so much greater than their love for Christ that they are willing to become friends with the enemies of all religion in the hope of wrecking the Catholic Church? Inevitably one thinks of Herod and Pilate, who became friends as Christ Himself went to His death

After his conversion, G. K. Chesterton wrote a book on the things that would have made him a Catholic, if he had not already become one. Certainly the diabolical hatred of the Catholic Church, whether on the part of secularist unbelievers or of those who are the victims of unreasoning religious prejudice and blind bigotry, would have been sufficient to make me suspect the truth of the Catholic Church had I myself not been moved by other considerations to become a Catholic.

In the early Church many converts from paganism owed their conversion to the very sight of the violent and irrational hatred for the name of Christ. They were led to study His life and claims. They found that He was goodness itself, and incapable of speaking anything but the truth. Only the rebellious principle of evil which abominates God could explain the infernal hatred of which He was the object. They were shocked into taking sides. And being men of good-will, on the side of decency and virtue, they felt that they had no choice but to become Christians.

The same thing is happening today. There are those who have seen that the same forces which have given rise to a hatred of Christ through all the ages are directed in a peculiar way against the Catholic Church as against no other institution in this world. This phenomenon has started them on their enquiries. And they have ended by becoming Catholics.

THE MAN WHO CAME BACK

But not only non-Catholics have reacted in such a way. Many a careless Catholic has been driven back to the fervent practice of his religion by a sudden advertence to the issues at stake.

I remember the case of one Catholic man, a railway employee, who had been transferred away from home to a country centre as a machinist fitter in the railway depot workshop there. In his new surroundings he dropped his religion in practice, neither making himself known to the local priest, nor attending Mass. None of his fellow workers was so much as aware that he was a Catholic. No letters of mine, written to him at the request of his parents, seemed to have any effect upon him.

One day, however, during the lunch hour, the Catholic Church came up for discussion; and such a tirade of abuse against Catholics and their religion, such a stream of vile calumnies against priests and nuns, poured from the lips of one of the men, that the Catholic was shocked out of his lethargy and indifference. He told the offender what he thought of him. He told the others what lying calumnies they had just heard. He professed himself to be a Catholic-a bad one till then, but not henceforth. The next weekend saw him at confession and Mass and Holy Communion. And he has never looked back.

“In that moment,” he wrote to me, “I was made to realize that I was either a Catholic or a traitor; as much an enemy of the Church as any other-even worse. I had to take sides, and I wasn’t going to be one of that crew. So I”ve returned to the Sacraments-to stay. I”ve had my lesson.”

GREAT RESPONSIBILITY

We Catholics have a responsibility. To us has been entrusted the interests of the Kingdom of God on earth, in the face of a world hatred of us Christ predicted and in spite of the opposition of even religiously-minded people misguided enough to think they do God a service by hindering us in every possible way.

We can’t get away from that responsibility. We have been baptized as Cathol ics. Just as we have been born into human society and must accept our social duties, so we have been horn into that great spiritual society known as the Catholic Church by a supernatural rebirth, and must accept the duties proper to that society also. We walk in two societies, the nation and the Church, with two sets of duties to be fulfilled.

It was an infidel who said, “Did I firmly believe, as millions say they do, that the knowledge and practice of religion in this life influences destiny in another, religion would be to me everything. It would be my first waking thought, and my last image before sleep sank me into unconsciousness. I would strive to look upon eternity alone, and on the immortal souls around me, soon to be everlastingly miserable or everlastingly happy.

Certainly if the Catholic Church is to do her work the first thing necessary is for her own members to equip themselves and stand firm. The Church desperately needs Catholics who take their religion seriously, and who are militant in their fight against unchristian and antichristian influences, zealous in their positive efforts to observe Christian principles in their personal conduct, and to diffuse them in the home circle, in commercial, professional and national life.

“The Barque of Peter,” said an old sea captain who happened to be an excellent Catholic, “is no tourist ship, but a freighter. She has no room for passengers; only crew. And it’s a case of all hands on deck.”

The “love of Christ urges us,” said St. Paul. By His goodness to us, He has placed us under an enormous obligation which it is for us to try to realize-and to repay.

SWIMMING UPSTREAM

No one could pretend for a moment, of course, that all Catholics even attempt to fulfil their obligation. I commenced this booklet by speaking of the “missing” Catholics. They, alas, are legion. In all our big cities, and scattered up and down the country, are hosts of Catholics known to be such only by themselves-and God. They are missing from their Church, unacquainted with their priest, unrecorded in diocesan statistics.

What are the causes of this tragedy? To put the question directly to missing Catholics, why have you drifted away from the practice of your religion?

There is, I know, the paralysing influence of the secular environment in which we live. The external changes in the world are as nothing compared with the change that has come over men’s souls.

We live in a world of “shaking foundations and dissolving loyalties.” Secularism has swept through the ranks of the society in which we live and move and have our very being. National and international authorities ignore religion. Books, newspapers, films-all conspire to promote the struggle for and enjoyment of material welfare to the forgetfulness of God. The wave of popular indifference to religion creates the impression that destiny doesn’t really depend on religious considerations; that they are not essential; that one can take them or leave them as one pleases.

Well, it’s easier, undoubtedly, to go with the current than swim against it. But to deplore the moral and spiritual break- down of our civilization-as so many even amongst the missing Catholics do-and also forsake the practice of one’s religion is surely no way to make things better.

It may take an effort; but the only thing to do is to turn and swim against the tide sweeping so relentlessly on towards the abyss of irreligion and despair.

KNOW YOUR RELIGION

“But I don’t know anything about my religion,” has often been said by missing Catholics.

I must confess that I have never heard that plea without a good deal of sympathy for those who make it. There are thousands of people in this country whose parents had enough faith to get them baptized, but not enough faith to bother teaching them their religion. And to be sent to state schools where religion was expressly excluded from the subjects taught did not help, to say the least. So it can easily be that many a Catholic has left school and set out on life with little or no real knowledge of his religion, and still less training in its duties.

But such a boy or girl still remains a Catholic. And there is no reason why one’s lack of knowledge of religion should not be made good in later years. We try to improve our knowledge of ever so many things inadequately taught us at school. Why take it for granted that a child’s knowledge- such as it is-should be enough to see us through life where our religion is concerned?

Surely the effort to remedy ignorance of our religion would be well worth while. A Catholic boy, after many years of study to fit himself for the priesthood, leaves home and country to go to the foreign missions. There he has to set to work to learn a new and difficult language. Then, in a climate that is bad, and fever rampant, with barely the necessaries of life provided for him, certainly with no worldly advantages, he devotes all his energies to spreading a knowledge of the Catholic Faith amongst pagan tribes. If he is prepared to endure such self-sacrifice that others may obtain a knowledge of the Catholic religion, should not ill-instructed Catholics at home go to the much less trouble of securing a sound knowledge of it for themselves?

Or take another case. A young and good-hearted Protestant lad, of about eighteen years of age, met a blind Catholic man and offered to visit him occasionally in order to read to him. One day the blind man wanted a pamphlet about the Catholic religion read to him. So impressed was the Protestant good Samaritan by the contents of that one booklet, that he obtained and read for himself every Catholic booklet he could lay hands upon. He sought instruction from a priest, was received into the Church, and went on with his studies until there were few Catholic laymen who had anything like his knowledge of their religion. They envied him his knowledge, his fervour, and his enthusiasm for it. But it did not seem to enter their beads that they could become equally proficient in their religion did they take the same interest in it.

Why should not the born Catholic restudy his religion in his adult years, with the greater understanding of it which is then possible, just as every convert has had to study it? I have even heard Catholics say wistfully that converts make the best Catholics. But there is no earthly reason why that should be so; and it would not be so-if it is so-had all Catholics made the same efforts to know and understand their religion as converts in their efforts to get it.

“IF THAT’S WHAT RELIGION MEANS!”

There are, of course, many reasons given by missing Catholics for their neglect of religious duties. But we all know, even as they themselves-in their heart of hearts-know the answer to them.

For example, there are those who point to the poor lives and the bad example given by many who regularly attend church and fulfil their religious obligations of worship. And they will say, “If that’s what religion means, I don’t want it.” But they know quitewell that that’s not what the Catholic religion means.

During the years before I became a Catholic I had often said that Catholics are a pretty poor lot in practice, and that the history of their Church is a quarry from which scandals can be unearthed almost at will. And I still say it, though now without losing sight of the other side of the picture.

One who knows the teaching of Christ and the proverbial weakness of human nature soon gets over the shock of disedifying lives. It was Christ Himself who said, “It must needs be that scandals will come.” But He did not forget to add, “Nevertheless, woe to that man by whom the scandal cometh.” Not for a moment would He sanction the scandals. Nor does the Catholic Church. However gentle she may be towards sinners, she is adamant in condemning the sin. Meantime, she knows what the Catholic religion can do in the Saints. Where that religion fails to secure such results, it has been held in check by the evil propensities or the human frailties of those who have resisted its influence.

But how unfair is the attitude of those who make the faults of others an excuse for their own laxity should be evident. No man refuses to join even a political party because he happens to like or not like someone who belongs to it instead of examining the party’s programme.

Let us take the Catholic religion as it is in itself. On the twentieth anniversary of his reception into the Church, Monsignor Ronald Knox answered the question as to whether he was disappointed with the Catholic Church after having made its closer acquaintance. And his reply went something like this: “Am I disappointed? With myself, yes; for when I was re- ceived into the Church it seemed that there was nothing left for me now but to become a saint, and I”m far from that yet.

With Catholics, yes; for they are not half as good as they ought to be with so wonderful a religion; with priests, yes; even as they are all disappointed with themselves. With the Catholic Church, no; she is the one true Church she has ever claimed to be.”

Missing Catholics ought to ask themselves, in turn, some questions. If the reality at times does not seem to correspond with the ideal, are things improved by our abandoning the Church also, and helping to make the contrast still more glaring? And whom does one hurt by the neglect of one’s own religious duties? Not those of whose conduct we complain. Their sins are not remedied by our sinning too. They are not converted by our sharing in their infidelity. The only ones we hurt are Our Lord, our own souls, and all whom our own bad example helps to lead astray. The wrong ones are being punished-and fruitlessly?

“MONEY! MONEY! MONEY!”

One excuse not uncommonly heard is: “I don’t attend church any more, because the priests are always asking for money.”

Well, for whom do they ask it? For themselves? Or for the poor, for our children in the schools, for foreign missions, for works of charity, for the glory of God’s House? They have to let us know what is needed, for that is their respon- sibility. But if we give of the possessions our life makes possible, the priest gives still more, himself, his life, renouncing an earthly career and family affections. Moreover, everyone knows that no Catholic is asked to give more than he can afford.

But if there were anything in this excuse, it would be as valid for good Catholics as for the careless ones; and the good ones have never made this charge a reason for neglecting fidelity in their religious duties to God. In a spirit of deep faith and with spontaneous generosity they have delighted in supporting their Church.

“I”ve never been the poorer for giving to God, Father,” said an old Catholic working man to me one day, “and I”ve certainly never yet heard of anyone going bankrupt through doing. There is something in casting your bread upon the waters!

“I’M NO GOOD”

To the credit of most missing Catholics it must be said that they refuse to fall back on the shortcomings of others as an excuse for their own neglect. More often they will say, “What’s the use of going to church? I can’t live up to it, and I”m not going to be a hypocrite and pretend I do.” One has at least to admire the honesty and humility of the admission that the fault lies in oneself.

But to go to Mass is not to pretend to be a saint! Nor need there be a trace of hypocrisy in such an external fulfilment of religious duties. The Pharisee may have been a hypocrite, but the publican wasn’t; though both equally went into the Temple-”the publican to pray,” as St. Augustine remarks, “the Pharisee to praise-himself!”

I know what you will say, “The publican was repentant and didn’t intend to go on with his sins; and I can’t break with mine.” Even so, you would not necessarily be a hypocrite by continuing to attend Mass. Hypocrisy depends on one’s motive. If you did go to Mass in order to pretend that you were good, you would be a hypocrite; but not if you went without any such pretence, moved only by the desireto fulfil God’s law as far as you could.

The Catholic Church has always refused to become the Church of the “elect.” Arnold Lunn remarks somewhere that if a Methodist keeps a mistress he ceases to attend his Church; but a Catholic in a similar position would still go to Mass even though unable to approach the Sacraments. He knows that the Catholic Church is for all, sinners as well as saints.

The Catholic Church never forgets her Divine Founder’s words, “I come to call, not the just who need not repentance, but sinners.” So she bids sinners come, not because they are good, but because they should want to be good, and because she knows how to deal with their sins. If they don’t become good quickly enough, and she is reproached for the low stan- dards of so many who frequent her services, she has her answer in the legion of saints through all the ages.

I remember an old priest going round his parish taking the census. He came to the house of a man who at first denied that he was a Catholic. But the man didn’t do it too convincingly and the priest pressed the question as to his religion.

“Well, Father,” the man said, “if you must know, I”m a Catholic-or supposed to be one. But you may as well wipe me off. I”m no good.”

The old priest’s eyes softened at once. “For that matter, I”m not much good myself,” he said, “but if we can’t do what we can’t do, that’s no reason why we shouldn’t do what we can do. I”m trying to do what I can do, and that’s why I”m looking you up. And you can at least come to Mass, even if you can’t do everything else. And you can say your prayers. You know, if you break one commandment, that’s no reason why you should break the lot. There’s no point in telling God that you might as well be hanged for asheep as for a lamb. Be as generous as you can with God, and He’ll find a way to be generous to you in the end, believe me.”

The man believed him, and went regularly to Mass after that; and the day came when he made his peace with God, returned to the Sacraments, and more than experienced the generosity of God upon which the old priest had promised him he could rely.

THE GREATEST INJUSTICE

Does the fulfilment of our religious duties matter? Of course it matters! More than anything else. What we do about it is the most important fact in our human existence. Our religious duties are the most valuable of all the things we do. For they alone enable us to transcend an ignoble self-love; and upon our acceptance or rejection of them our very eternity depends.

A man may sin through human frailty in other ways -a frailty for which God is prepared to make every possible allowance. But the omission of religious duties is a cold, calculating form of injustice which can make no claim to such consideration. And if, as Holy Scripture says, the very pagans were guilty because they did not worship God as they should; if the Jews were guilty-guilty to the extent of forfeiting their inheritance; how much more guilty are Catholics who today claim that inheritance as their own, yet neglect the greatest of its obligations-to tender due and fitting worship to God?

It is not that God needs our worship. But not to render that worship is the greatest possible injustice on our part; and God cannot want us to be unjust. If we pay butcher and baker and grocer for the food by which we maintain life, how much more ready we should be to make a due return to God for the life that food maintains?

Religion is the highest form of justice, inspiring us to render due acknowledgement to God. That is why, in giving us the ten commandments in the right order of importance, God Himself devoted the first three of them to our obligations towards Himself. He insists that we acknowledge Him to be the one and only True God! that we hold Him in due reverence; and that we regularly fulfil our duties of religious worship.

To have no religion, then is a very evil thing, the greatest of all dishonesties. And is it not a striking fact that even irreligious parents would not take from their own children what they expect God to take from them? What parents would permit their children to ignore them completely and treat them as if they did not so much as exist?

THE CAUSE OF CHRIST

Look again at what our religion means. After all, we are Christians. We believethat “God so loved the world as to give His onlybegotten Son.” “Man,” said St. Augustine, “owed God so great a debt that he could not pay; therefore God be- came man and as man paid man’s debt.” It meant a life of suffering, ending in His death. It seems almost incredible that any Catholic could believe that the Eternal Son of God went to so much trouble on our behalf, yet not even go to the trouble of taking his religion seriously.

Remember who Christ is. You have but to grant a single point -that He was not the greatest liar and blasphemer who ever set foot in this world. For, if not, then He was what He claimed to be-God; and all that He declares will happen is going to happen. He will come to judge the living and the dead.

To His Church we Catholics belong. And that Church is not merely a mechanical machine of cogs running under a single central motor. She is a living organism, of which we are the living cells, every cell contributing to her health and vitality.

But there are degrees of life, spiritually as well as physically. After the last war, Europe was swarming with orphaned and vagabond children, living by scavenging. But they were only just alive, poor, thin, emaciated, undernourished, with no glow of health, no vigour of life. Spiritually, also, there are Catholics like that, with no glow of fervour, no desire of virtue, no taste for the things of God, no longing for heaven. They are spiritually ill, half-dead.

Well, God has given us the Faith; but He won’t compel us to live it. And no one else can live our lives for us. It is for each one of us to do his part. And how necessary it is that each should do so! True, the Catholic Church cannot die. Our Lord has promised that. But she can lose power as life and vitality fail in any one of us. She can be weaker when slothful and careless Catholics abound.

The cause of Christ is, then, the cause of every Catholic without exception. Every missing Catholic lets Him down and weakens the Church.

BEGIN HERE

The missing Catholic may ask. “But where shall I begin?”To that I would say, “At least begin by taking up the duty of prayer.” It may need an effort at first, because you have got out of the habit of it. But you will grow into it. We learn to pray by praying, as a child learns to walk by walking. If you have forgotten your prayers, get a prayer-book.

One thing is certain. Prayer is absolutely necessary. God has made the welfare of our soul depend upon it, even as He has made our bodily life dependent uponthe air we breathe. “Alas for the man too busy to pray,” exclaimed Cardinal Manning, “for he is too busy to save his soul.”

Christ Himself both set us the example of prayer and taught us the necessity of it. Whatever else He Himself did, He prayed. “Rising early, He went to a desert place and there He prayed.” “He ascended into a mountain alone to pray.” He spent “the whole night in prayer.” “Being in an agony, He prayed the longer.” And to us He says, “Watch and pray.” “Ask and you shall receive.”

Secondly, if you do not already go, resume your attendance at Mass at least on Sundays and Holy Days of obligation. The fulfilment of the religious duty of assistance at the public and corporate worship of God in our churches is essential. It is by such attendance that we publicly acknowledge the duty of religion, publicly profess our belief as Catholics, make public admission of the need of God’s help. To neglect Mass is to give our vote that God shall be forgotten.

The mystery is that any Catholic can bring himself to miss Mass. We know the price our Catholic ancestors paid rather than allow themselves to be robbed of it. At the time of the Protestant Reformation in England, St. John Fisher, Bishop of Rochester, challenged Cranmer with the protest, “He who would abolish the Mass plots no less a calamity than would be the destruction of the very sun from the heavens.”

Even a nonCatholic of our own times, Augustine Birrell, wrote in the “Nineteenth Century” magazine, “Nobody nowa- days, save a handful of vulgar fanatics, speaks irreverently of the Mass. If indeed the Incarnation be the one divine event to which the whole creation moves, the miracle of the Altar may well seem its restful shadow cast over a dry and thirsty land for the help of man. . . . It is the Massthat matters; it is the Mass that makes the difference.”

Thirdly, let us read all we can about our Faith, and improve our knowledge of it. And let us do our best to live up to its ideals in our personal daily lives. In that, of course, we shall be only more or less successful. We are not saints. We have our human frailties. But we must try. As the old priest I have mentioned earlier said, “If we can’t do what we can’t do, we can do what we can do,” and if we are faithful to our personal prayers and to our assistance at Mass, these religious practices will gradually emancipate us from slavish subjection to temporal and passing material things, help us to recover our sense of true values, and let into our lives the light of spiritual realities.

THE WORLD NOT ALL

The more we think, the more we see the necessity of this recovery of our sense of true values.

It may be that our civilization will perish unless people turn to God. But the real reason for a return to God is that He wants us and we need Him. In Him alone will we find a purpose great enough to satisfy the innate longings which are part of our very nature. Man lives by bread, but not by bread alone. He hungers for faith and hope and love. And his faith must be faith in something, in someone.

Communists speak of the Christian hope as “Pie in the sky when you die.” But everyone knows that to be a caricature; that it’s not pie, nor in the “sky,” that awaits us. However, there are many who are not communists, yet who refuse to look beyond this life at all. “Give me enough to eat and drink, a decent home, and a wife or husband as the case may be, and a certain amount of enjoyment, and that’s all I ask of life.”

But that’s all an animal asks- food, shelter, a mate, and a bit of play when young. And we are not mere animals. The man who lives like that may say, “Well, I”m happy;” but he is not half as happy as he is meant to be. He is neither putting into life nor getting out of it anything like what he could. He is missing the real meaning and direction of life, and will end having had no serious purpose, having done no particular good, and having a judgement to face for having rejected the one hope of his salvation.

AND THEN THE JUDGEMENT

The eternal truths are realities, whatever we choose to do about them. Thus all admit that death comes to everybody, and that they too must die. But many refuse to believe this in practice and behave as if they were going to live forever and never die. Yet the shadow of death is always there; and the dread of what lies beyond it is never really lifted from us, however little we can bear to think about it.

So, too, the great facts of the Incarnation and of the Catholic Church remain the same, whether we take notice of them or not. But to behave as if the Incarnation had never happened, and as if Our Lord had never gone to the trouble of establishing His Church at all; to behave as if these things had nothing whatever to do with you, is a very great sin. “When the Holy Ghost is come,” Our Lord said, “He will convince the world of sin, because they believed not in Me.” It is true that people whose eyes are dim to God are little concerned about their sins. Conscience can be repressed so that its voice is scarcely heard. People can even pretend to themselves that what is wrong is right, when they wish to do it. But God’s law is still there, and is still what it is.

Can we help asking ourselves whether God is satisfied with us, and whether it matters whether He is or not? He is going to ask us some day what we have made of our religion; what our religion has meant to us, and we to it. And there is a judgement, with a possible sentence of eternal condemnation. If you say, “I don’t worry about the next world,” then spare yourself having to worry about it when you’re in it. Use this life as a preparation for it-a brief period during which you are free to ensure for yourself eternal happiness, instead of the loss of it and all that that will mean.

DAYDREAMS WON’T DO

Every Catholic -even the missing Catholic-finds himself thinking at times along these lines. For things happen that bring home to him the fact that his faith is not dead yet.

A young garage hand, who had been coming to me for instruction during several months, on hearing that I was to go away to a distant place for quite a time, begged me to receive him into the Church before I went. The only opportunity was on the following Tuesday morning, which would mean his being late on the job that day.

“I”11 manage it, Father,” he said, “The boss isn’t a Catholic, and we’re very busy, but I think I”11 be able to get around him.”

The lad turned up at the appointed time and was duly received into the Church. Afterwards I said to him, “The boss didn’t mind?” “Not in the end,” he said. “But when I first mentioned it to him, be just exploded. Literally shouted that we were behind with everything, that he wasn’t going to have any slackers hanging around his shop, and that he wouldn’t hear of it. When I could get a word in, I told him that I was going to become a Catholic, that the priest was going away, and the only chance he had to receive me into the Church was this morning. You should have seen the change that came over him. He stopped as if somebody had hit him on the head with a hammer. Then he put out his hand and said, “God bless you, Bob. You can have a week off for that if you need it. I only hope you’ll be a better Catholic than I am.” Then he just turned away and left me breathless. No one in the place bad ever guessed that he was a Catholic. It’s wonderful where they turn up, Father, when you come to think of it!”

That boss was a typical missing Catholic: faith enough to be happy in the thought of others becoming Catholics, yet not conviction enough to live up to his religion himself. Or maybe there was nothing wrong with his convictions. He had just drifted away, still hoping that all would come right in the end- a hope very near to presumption, ever liable to fall into the other extreme of despair.

Cardinal Manning has well described such types. “Men are ever beguiling themselves,” he writes, “with a dream that they shall be what they are not now; they hope one day to be different; they balance their present consciousness of a low worldly life, and of a mind heavy and dull to spiritual things, with the lazy thought that some day God will bring home to them in power the realities of faith in Christ. So men dream away their lives in pleasure, sloth, trade or study. Who is ther e that has not at some time secretly indulged this soothing flattering, that the staid gravity of age, when youth is quelled; or the leisure of retirement, when the fret of busy life is over; or, it may be, the inevitable pains and griefs which are man’s inheritance, shall one day break up in his heart the now sealed fountain of repentance and make at last his religion a reality? Who has not allayed the uneasy consciousness of a meagre religion with the hope of a future change? Who has not been mocked by the enemy of mankind, the enemy of every man? Who has not listened, all too readily, to him who would cheat us of the hour that is, and of the spiritual earnings which faith makes day by day in God’s service, stealing from us the present hour that is, and leaving us a lie in exchange?”

How well I remember being called to the deathbed of a military officer who had abandoned the Protestantism of his youth for a life of complete irreligion! In his last lingering illness from cancer of the lungs and throat, due to his having been gassed during the First World War, he had taken up the study of the Catholic religion. As a result he asked to be received into the Catholic Church. But the new realization of the things that really matter drew from him the remark, “Well, Father, I”m saving my soul, but I”ve lost my life. That life I used for myself as long as it was any good to me. But now it’s of no use any more, I”m giving God the dregs. I wish to God I had been a Catholic as a boy. Things would have been very different then.”

THE ONLY CHOICE

Surely the only sensible choice is to take up our religion and to make the most of it whilst the opportunity is ours. We are living in the midst of a serious emergency, a time of economic and social troubles both national and international. And there are those who say that these anxieties are more than enough to occupy their thoughts -that it will be time enough to think about religion when things get better. But what made the emergency? Not the things we see. Evil dispositions in the souls of men have been the main cause of all the troubles. And the problems will be there until we put our souls right- which can only be when our souls are right with God.

How to go about that, we Catholics know. The Catholic Church still lives, and is the one true Church. She is the Church of the centuries, from which the Western nations departed with anything but a blessing to themselves, and in drifting from which no individual Catholic has yet found true happiness.

Faith in his religion, attendance at Mass, reception of the Sacraments, personal prayer, efforts to live up to the commandments of God and to the precepts of the Church-these are the things that alone can give happiness to the soul of the Catholic; and even in this life, not to speak of the next.

So we come to the end of this little book, in the writing of which I myself have been a prey to many varied sentiments in turn.

For a Catholic cannot dwell on the thought of the Catholic Church to which he belongs without pride in all that she is in herself, indignation that her enemies should utter such vile calumnies against her and seek only to do her injury, a renewed love for the high ideals she ever puts before him, shame and a sense of guilt that in his own life he should fall so far short of them, and a wistful longing for those loftier standards in practice which his better self cannot but approve.

And is there a missing Catholic who has read these pages unmoved in any or all of these ways? I do not believe it. I have mentioned the taunt: “You’re a Catholic, and you’ll never be anything else.” That is true; though it is not an insult, as bitterly prejudiced people imagine, but a compliment. We appreciate it as such. But can one be a Catholic, and not respond to all that has been said in this little book?

Then, I would say, for the love of God, do something about it. Determine to improve your knowledge of your religion. Read all you can find on that subject. We all need to do that, for the teachings of our religion will not remain automatically alive in our memories. We need constantly to remind ourselves of them. Take up your prayers and your regular attendance at Mass. Go to see your priest, and if there are any obstacles in your way, talk them over with him. He will explain ways and means. They may be much smoother and easier than you at present imagine. And the happiness awaiting you will be beyond all the expectations with which you set out on your new program of life as a practical Catholic.

Nihil Obstat:

PERCY JONES,

Censor Deputatus.

Imprimatur:

@ D. MANNIX,

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis.

7th January. 1959

********

Censorship

BY IAN WYND, M.A., B.ED

INDEX

Let no corrupt communication proceed out of your mouth, but that which is good to the use of edifying, that it may minister grace unto the hearers.

St. Paul.

A man who gives a wrong twist to your mind, meddles with you just as truly as if he hit you in the eye; the mark may be less painful, but it is more lasting.

Santayana.

I

At the present time {1970} censorship in Australia is under attack. A strong campaign has been mounted to liberalize or to eliminate (depending on the extremity of the views of the campaigners) our present methods of censorship. The arguments advanced, based very largely on the rights of the individual, are quite convincing, so that it is often very difficult for the person who believes that some censorship is necessary to defend his position. In the following pages the validity of the arguments of the anti-censorship camp will be examined. Then we shall put the case for censorship.

HISTORY OF CENSORSHIP

But, first, let us examine the nature and history of censorship. Restrictions on the actions of the individual are almost as old as man himself. As soon as man began to live in communities, he found that he could no longer do as he wished; he had to forgo some of his freedom in order to enjoy the benefits of living in a society. The nature of the restraints placed on the individual have varied from society to society and from time to time within each society. But always survival of the society has been placed above the rights of the individual.

What was restricted varied considerably. In primitive tribes various taboos were strictly enforced and those who broke them punished with expulsion or death. In more civilized societies, there has been greater variety in what has been proscribed, while the penalties have ranged from the banning of written material to death. In ancient Athens, generally regarded as the cradle of democracy, Socrates was put to death on a charge of corrupting the youth of the city-state; on other occasions, men were exiled for their political activities. Books which were considered blasphemous or atheistical or libellous were burned by the magistrates.

In Roman times, only libellous writings seem to have been attacked. In earlier Christian times, there was some restriction on the reading of pagan authors and heretical books were burned. The later Middle Ages saw the growth of heresy and an increasing prohibition of heretical writings, as well as the imposition of the death penalty for heresy. After the Reformation, the Church compiled the Index, a list of books which were not to be read by Catholics. Books were included on this list because of their attitude to the Church; thus Rabelais was included, but not because of his obscenity.

So far, most of the prohibitions had been on social, political or religious grounds. It was not until the seventeenth century that obscenity received the attention of the authorities when Sir Charles Sidley was prosecuted for publicly indecent behaviour. This case was the precedent for further prosecutions for publishing pornography in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. In 1868, in the Hicklin case, Chief Justice Cockburn provided a definition of obscenity which has been used now for one hundred years: the test of obscenity is this: whether the tendency of the matter charged as obscenity is to deprave and corrupt those whose minds are open to such immoral influences and into whose hands a publication of this sort may fall.

Today, censorship on political or religious grounds has virtually disappeared, and there would be very few who would mourn its passing. Instead, the emphasis is on censorship of violence, obscenity, and undue emphasis on sex. It is the last two elements of censorship that the present campaign aims to eliminate.

THE DILEMMA OF CENSORSHIP

The main argument of those who oppose censorship is that it interferes with the rights of the individual. This seems a solid argument but, as we have already seen, the security of society as a whole must come before the rights of the individual. We must then consider whether giving the individual complete freedom will be more harmful than restricting his rights. Dr. Johnston, writing in the eighteenth century, recognized this dilemma:

“The danger of such unbounded liberty, and the danger of bounding it, have pro duced a problem in the science of government, which human understanding seems hitherto unable to solve.”

Johnston realized that if the right to publish were controlled by the state, then power must always be the standard of truth; while, if each individual were free to say what he liked, chaos would ensure. You could allow freedom of publication and punish the author, but this would promote the book. He concluded: it seems not more reasonable to leave the right of printing unrestrained, because writers may afterwards be censured, than it would be to sleep with doors unbolted, because by our laws we can hang a thief.

Today, this problem is no nearer solution than when Johnston wrote. No one realizes this more than Mr. Chipp, the present {1970} Minister for Customs; he recently told Parliament that:

“In a democracy then, the elected government is vested with the authority to make laws and impose obligations for the common good and public welfare. On the other hand, the government has an obligation to protect the general community from both the abuse of power and the selfish desires of minority groups within the community.”

The problems, he said, is “what is the proper degree of control or regulation of the lives of a people by a government?”

As long as people believe that some restraint of the individual is necessary, then there will be argument over the answer to this question.

THE ARGUMENTS AGAINST CENSORSHIP

As has already been pointed out, one of the strongest arguments advanced against censorship is that it interferes with individual rights. A. A. Phillips (Meanjin 1969, p. 511) expressed this view when he wrote “Reading a book is a private individual act not affecting other individuals,” and “Prima facie, the State has no mandate to supervise an individual’s private behaviour.” But, he realized the force of the argument already adduced -that the society’s rights come before the individual’s -when he adds “it can only acquire that right when the particular piece of behaviour interferes with the rights of another individual, or is clearly inimical to the public interest.”

Now, it would appear that reading a book is a private matter and concerns no one but the reader. But this depends on whether what one reads stimulates one into anti-social behaviour. If it does, then there is a case for censorship; if it does not, then censorship should be abandoned.

READING AND BEHAVIOUR

Does reading affect behaviour? Unfortunately, there is no clear cut answer to this question. Those who favour censorship say there is an effect, while those who oppose it either deny any effect or say that, if there is an effect, then this is a good thing.

Most frequently, those who oppose censorship deny that books influence people’s actions in a bad way. Geoffrey Dutton (Australia’s Censorship Crisis, p. 99) admits that “Literature can certainly arouse desires, stimulate awareness, enrage, soothe, exalt, depress,” but he declares that there is no evidence that it can lead anyone astray. Reading Fanny Hill, he says, will not make a good woman a whore, any more than reading the Old Testament will make a sinner obey the Ten Commandments. To make a statement like this is to ignore the many books which, it is claimed, have changed the course of history; books like Tom Paine’s Common Sense, Uncle Tom’s Cabin, Karl Marx’s Communist Manifesto. These books obviously stimulated people to action—action which you consider good or bad according to your beliefs.

If it is correct that books can influence people’s behaviour for good, then it is logical to say that they may also influence it in the opposite direction. Evidently some of our librarians think so for they have removed from their shelves those pernicious books describing the exploits of Noddy and Biggles, on the grounds that they are inculcating the wrong attitudes in young readers.

Professor F. May (Australian Library Journal, June 1964, p. 84) writes: “For me the saddest thing about censorship in Australia is that it strikes most heavily against the young. At no time in the history of the Commonwealth have so many young men and women had the opportunity to enter our universities. But . . . it is no use admitting them, if they are to be kept away from material on which they should be working.”

Obviously, the Professor feels that by being denied access to this material they are going to be deprived of some effect which he considers beneficial; that is, books do have some effect on their readers. That this effect influences their behaviour is obvious from another comment from Professor May:

“The deprived student of today . . . is the maimed teacher of tomorrow, himself crippling a further generation that will perpetuate the sequence of intellectual mayhem.”

The great English poet, John Milton, writing against censorship, admitted the power of books:

“Books are not absolutely dead things, but do contain a potency of life in them to be as active as that soul whose progeny they are . . . I know they are as lively, and as vigorously productive, as those fabulous dragon’s teeth; and, being sown up and down, may chance to spring up armed men.”

Another line taken by some is that books do have a stimulating effect but there is nothing wrong in this. Dutton quotes with approval the story that when Sir William JoynsonHicks complained that “two young people, who had been perfectly pure up to that time, after reading this book went and had sexual intercourse together,” D. H. Lawrence (of Lady Chatterley fame) commented “one up to them!, is all we can answer!”

What proof is there to refute the claim that books have no harmful effects? Unfortunately there is very little evidence to provide an answer. Most claims are of a very subjective nature. However, there is one objective work on the subject; this is the book Seduction of the Innocent by Frederic Wertham, published in 1955. Dr. Wertham was senior psychiatrist for the Department of Hospitals in New York City 1932–52; he directed mental hygiene clinics at Bellevue Hospital and Queen’s Hospital Centre; and he was also in charge of the Court of General Sessions Psychiatric Clinic.

Dr. Wertham investigated the influence of comic books on American children. (It should be noted here that “comic” books does not mean the Donald Duck variety, but the multitude of crime, horror and love comics which flooded America and other countries, including Australia, at the time.) These books were “endorsed” by boards of experts in psychiatry, education and English literature, and there were plenty of “experts” to say they had never seen a child influenced by comics. Wertham found only too many examples to the contrary: children who hanged themselves imitating scenes in comic books; a six-year-old who tried to fly from a cliff with a home-made cloak; children participating in protection rackets or hold-ups—all learned from comic books.

Reading comic books had two effects—they either resulted in imitation or identification:

“Identification itself may or may not lead to imitative action . . . Where it does result in activity, the actions are never constructive. Thescenes of sadism, sex and crime in comic books arouse the child’s emotions, but leave him only a limited scope of release in action. These actions can only be masturbatory or delinquent.”

Most of Dr. Wertham’s evidence shows the connection between comic books and violence, but he also found a link with sexual problems. In the comic book, sex is almost always associated with violence, giving the child the wrong impression of sex. He found evidence of adults whose sexual problems began with reading sadistic, masochistic comic books. He also claimed that such comics as Batman and Wonder Woman could produce homosexual tendencies.

Dr. Wertham came to the conclusion that “Just as we have ordinances against the pollution of water, so now we need ordinances againstthe pollution of children’s minds.” However, he had no great success in his own country in having comic books banned because he ran into the wall of Big Business. Other countries realized the danger and banned the import of American comic books; Holland and Sweden (which also bans films if they contain excessive violence) took this step.

The U.S. Government, on the other hand, supplied these books to its forces overseas. A news item in National Decency News (December 1969) shows the result of such a policy:

“Citizens of Karlsruhe [in West Germany] are currently victims of a crime wave from American soldiers. The raperate is high, and police say that about half of all crimes of violence in the city are committed by U.S. soldiers. Psychologists commissioned to analyse why, report a number of causes, but their conclusion about the main cause created quite a shock comic strips. In many of these available to G.I.”s., they report, German men are depicted as “Nazi pigs”, and German women as “easy to get.””

The brutalizing effect of constant exposure to violence in another medium—television—has been highlighted by the Eisenhower Commission on the Causes and Prevention of Violence. It felt it reasonable to conclude “that a constant diet of violence has an adverse effect on the human character and attitudes.” The Commission recommended abandonment of children’s cartoons containing serious non-comic violence; cutting the time devoted to violent action crime and western shows which “distort the nature of life in a civilized society;” showing problems being solved by other than the “routine” violent means which are rarely presented as illegal or socially unacceptable.

DIFFICULTIES OF DEFINITION

Another argument against censorship is that it is impossible to carry out censorship properly because it is impossible to define the terms and objectives of censorship with any accuracy. “The absence of objective standards,” says A. A. Phillips, “is, of course, the prime problem of censorship and the most effective argument of those who would abolish all restrictions on the circulation of allegedly obscene and blasphemous work.” It is claimed that it is impossible to define with any accuracy such terms as “obscene,” “deprave,” “corrupt;” consequently, nothing can be censored as no one can tell whether it is obscene or not.

This contention has a certain amount of merit. However, we must realize that, because it is difficult to define a problem, this does not mean that it does not exist and that we should ignore it. But it does mean that any attempts to deal with the problem will be more open to criticism. Moreover, while the terms in question may be difficult to define with any legal precision, they have existed in our language for centuries and the average person knows well enough what they mean. As a young woman (quoted by Dr. Joyce Brothers, New Idea, 8/8/70, p. 25) explained:

“Maybe it is hard for the National Literature Board of Review to decide whether to release a book for its “redeeming social value” or whether its “predominant appeal” is “prurient”. For me it’s simple. Pornography is what I don’t want my kids to see.” don’t want my kids to see.”

6) apparently decided that he could define the word “obscene,” when he declared that the film Sound of Music was obscene because it gave a false portrayal of life:

“The reason it was not censored [he says] is that this appalling image of life and the world fits in with the ideal which must be accepted as an absolute. It is a world of Doris Day as the typical housewife, Diahann Carrol as the typical Negro, John Wayne as the good citizen. The ugly, the misfits, the failures and the four-letter words only belong to the real world. The artificial world offers no choices. Women are beautiful, religion is sweet, families are happy, problems have solutions, war is hell but necessary.”

There is a modicum of truth in this criticism, but some women are beautiful even in the films that use four-letter words, problems are soluble, families are happy in this world. Furthermore, the opposite picture of the ugly, the misfits and the failures is not typical of life either. Moreover, musicals as a genre are never intended to be taken seriously.

From an American book Obscenity and Public Morality Mr. Chipp provided a definition of obscenity which most of us would agree with: the essence of obscenity lies in making public that which is private and “in trading on intimate physical processes and acts or on physical-emotional states, thereby degrading the human dimension of life to a subhuman or merely physical level.” Under such a definition a difficulty arises: news films depicting the sufferings of wounded soldiers and interviews with the victims of catastrophes would be obscene.

Another line taken by the opponents of censorship is that many of the words and actions declared obscene are in fact connected with normal activities with which everyone is familiar. To declare them obscene is thus ridiculous. Donald Horne, for example, thinks (Australia’s Censorship Crisis, p. 28) “It would be fascinating to find out what words, what sexual acts and what parts of the body the State found obscene.” No, doubt, the State would not declare these things to be obscene in themselves, but would point out that in some circumstances—in a sex manual or a medical textbook—it would be correct to discuss these matters; but that, if used in other circumstances, then they might be considered obscene, e.g. under the circumstances outlined above by Mr. Chipp. As Judge Fullagar pointed out in 1948 (P. Coleman, Obscenity, Blasphemy, Sedition, p. 108) :

“It would not be true to say that any publication dealing with sexual relations is obscene. The relations of the sexes are, of course, legitimate matters for discussion everywhere. They must be dealt with in scientific works, and they maybe legitimately dealt with—even very frankly and directly—in literary work. But they can be dealt with cleanly and they can be dealt with dirtily. There are certain standards of decency which prevail in the community . . . What is obscene is something which offends against those standards.”

OBSESSION WITH SEX

Those who oppose censorship frequently accuse those who support it of being obsessed with sex, that all they wish to eliminate from books and films is the frank portrayal of sex. It seems to me that the boot is on the other foot, that the opponents are the ones who are obsessed with sex—they are the ones who want to see and read films and books that portray nudity and are explicit in sexual details. For example, Australia’s Censorship Crisis, which sets out to ridicule the censorship situation in Australia, is full of examples of this preoccupation with sex. Furthermore, the accusation neglects the fact that a large number of films are censored because of the violence they contain.

Another argument against censorship is that it prevents the flowering of genius; that the writer, the artist, the film maker cannot develop his full potential under the shadow of censorship. However, de Rougemont (quoted in Obscenity, Blasphemy, Sedition, p. 186) suggests that “the greatest periods of literature coincide with periods of definite but moderate censorship,” and that censorship might even be considered to have had a creative influence on such writers as Rabelais, Swift, Voltaire, Dante, Pascal, Montesquieu in the past, and Pasternak in recent times. Moreover, with the present relaxation of censorship around the world, we might reasonably expect to see a great efflorescence, a second renaissance, in the artistic world; but there is no sign of it. There are many, on the other hand, who feel that the present emphasis on nudity and obscenity merely cloaks a lack of talent.

LITERARY MERIT

An allied argument is that the literary or artistic value of a book or film justifies it being exempted from the restrictions of censorship. Undoubtedly this contention has much merit. Nevertheless, one wonders just how much artistic merit justifies how much obscenity, and whether the obscenity is there for its artistic merit or for more venal reasons. Judge Fullagar expressed this doubt in the prosecution ofRobert Close’s Love Me Sailor in 1948 (Obscenity, Blasphemy, Sedition, pp. 54–5):

“Only a supernatural degree of naïveté could seriously suppose (assuming the author to be wholly sane) that they are published with any other purpose than the achieving of profit or of notoriety. There is no more benefit to the public than if the same things are shouted by a drunken man in a public street, and it is difficult to see that one publication is more artistic than another.”

In the same case, Judge Gavan Duffy declared that holding the mirror up to nature did not mean that the writer was free to write what he liked: “Literature is not yet a sanctuary or an Alsatia.” {Footnote: the expression “Alsatia”, comes from the sanctuary provided by the Dominican (from Alsatia) White Friars Church in medieval London, given to lawbreakers.} A. D. Hope, no friend to censorship, has said “literary merit may add to the evil of an evil work: to deny this is to deny the power of literature.” (quoted in Bulletin, 11/4/70, p. 14).

It is in these circumstances that the censors are accused of philistinism and policemen are ridiculed and derided. In particular, the police are attacked for their lack of knowledge of literary and artistic matters. It is often declared that the police act as censors. Those who do so neglect or deliberately ignore the fact that the police merely carry out the law as it exists, that their task is to prevent the law being broken or to charge those who have broken it. In the latter case, it is up to the courts to decide the guilt or otherwise of the accused. No doubt, it is good tactics to associate the police with censorship, thus conveying the implication of a police-state existing. But it is no more logical to blame the police for censorship laws than for traffic laws, nor to ridicule them for not knowing who Byron was than for being ignorant of who Benz or Ford was.

The censors are also attacked as being philistines who know nothing and care less about the artistic and literary merits of what they examine. The strength of this argument lies in whether the artistic worth justifies some or any amount of obscenity. As we have seen above, there is some doubt about this. On the assumption that their argument is sound, the opponents of censorship then go on to propose that certain people should be appointed as censors. These people are almost always from their own ranks—writers, film directors, etc. Imagine the outcry if the pure food acts were to be policed by the food manufacturers themselves, or if the directors of B.H.P. were to be appointed to determine the wages of their own employees, or if car manufacturers were to be the sole arbiters in the matter of car safety!

COMMUNITY STANDARDS

Another argument advanced by the anti-censorship camp is that community standards are changing and this justifies a relaxation of censorship. How true is this?

In 1948 a Gallup Poll indicated 62% of the Australian people favoured censorship, 32% opposed it, 6% had no opinion. In 1970 a similar poll showed that 58% wanted to maintain or increase censorship, 34% wanted to decrease or eliminate censorship, while 8% were undecided. This hardly indicates a great change over twenty-two years. However, what is of significance is that the age group 21–29 years showed a 53% preference to decrease censorship. Whether this group will maintain this opinion or will become more conservative when they become parents still remains to be seen.

Despite this statistical evidence, it is obvious that standards have changed. An examination of the books available, the films exhibited, reveals this only too clearly. This is due to the fact that censorship standards have been relaxed. But the Gallup Polls indicate that the community thinks that we have gone far enough.

However, there is a section of the community which is not satisfied with this relaxation and seeks to carry matters even further. They seek to persuade us that we are old-fashioned or prudish with such statements as this: “Fashions change. Despite the facts that these plays [Boys in the Band, Hair] have been performed, I doubt if one can say our society is more corrupt than it was three years ago. The “naughty” play of yesterday becomes the charming period piece of today. And the odds are that Hair will be recalled in ten years as a rather quaint piece of prudish theatre.” (J. Tasker, Australia’s Censorship Crisis, p. 50).

Our first reaction to this kind of comment is to doubt the sincerity of the writer, for we know that the naughty play of Greek, Roman or Restoration days is still considered just that today.

Those who advocate further permissiveness are often academics, whose intellectual reputation lends respectability to the cause, or those who like to follow the latest fashionable trend. But are they the best people to judge what community standards are? Mr. Justice Stable does not think so (Australia’s Censorship Crisis, p. 222):

“We are concerned with what is today acceptable to ordinary decent-minded people—males and females, with community standards. These are not always the standards of academics far removed from ordinary people, or the standards of those to whom it is the breath of life to be seen or heard doing or saying whatever they regard as the “in” thing of the moment, nor even of easilyled irresponsible youngsters.”

He goes on to say that the permissiveness of such people transcends what ordinary decent people will accept. This attitude is encouraged by those who hope to make money peddling indecencies and obscenities. To achieve this end they seek “to convert the ordinary decent person to acceptance of mock-cultural delights by ridicule and simulated scorn.”

These people tell us that we hear four-letter words wherever we go and that we should not object to them in plays and films.

We also see road accidents wherever we go. Does this mean we should accept them and do nothing to prevent their occurrence? But how true is the statement that we hear such language and accept its use? It is doubtful if the majority of us do hear this language in our normal pursuits or that we approve of it if we do. Certainly; it is not the sort of language that most men want women to hear; just watch the reaction if it is used at the football or the races in the hearing of a woman.

If this is the case, is there any justification for the use of such words in films, books or plays? We are told it is the “context” that counts. Does this make it less obscene? Mr. Justice Stable suggests this test:

“Let him say to his wife when he is confronted with a tasteful breakfast dish, “ . . . porridge,” and then embark on his explanation that it is the context that matters.”

INCONSISTENCIES OF CENSORSHIP

One of the most compelling arguments against censorship would seem to be that censorship in practice is full of inconsistencies. Australia’s Censorship Crisis is very largely devoted to revealing these inconsistencies. And it must be admitted that they are manifold. This book prints extracts from novels and asks you to say which have been passed by the censor and which have been banned. From a reading of these, it is obvious that some that have been passed are as bad as or worse than those which have been banned. Another inconsistency this book reveals is that literature coming into the country can be banned, but the same material can be printed inside Australia with impunity. This evidence is used to show how ridiculous censorship is. However, these inconsistencies do not invalidate the principle of censorship, they merely reveal that censorship is being put into practice ineffectively and that, if it is to achieve its purpose, then its methods need overhauling.

The opponents of censorship frequently tell us that our censorship makes Australia the laughing stock of the world. When this cry was raised after the banning of a film from the Melbourne Film Festival, Herald columnist, G. Tebbut, commented (11/6/70):

“I don’t believe it. The great bulk of the world won’t know. Some of those few countries which get to hear about the banning won’t care. And not all of those people who do care are going to assume that the witch doctors have taken over in Australia.”

A recent article in the Bulletin (27/12/69) revealed that the authorities in Britain were carrying out similar actions against indecent and obscene materials as were their counterparts in Australia. The book Freedom, the Individual and the Law by Harry Street, tells a similar story about censorship in Britain to that about Australia related by P. Coleman in Obscenity, Blasphemy, Sedition. Does anyone call Britain the laughing stock of the world?

The fact that our censorship system differs from that in other parts of the world does not necessarily mean that ours is wrong and the world’s right. Some countries which are praised here for abolishing censorship in sexual matters still retain censorship of violence, but there is no condemnation of them because of this.

Some of those who oppose censorship attempt to belittle the effects of obscene material by declaring that they have seen a certain film or read a certain book and have not been corrupted or depraved by the experience. Of course, we have only their word for this, and the book The Other Victorians showsjust how depraved some of the “respectable” Victorian writers actually were. But apart from this, it is not claimed that obscene material corrupts or depraves everyone who comes in contact with it. Censorship aims to protect those in the community who are likely to be affected, just as various consumer protection laws aim to protect the gullible citizen from the unscrupulous salesman. For the same reason, the jibe that the censors are uncorrupted by their work is no argument against censorship.

PORNOGRAPHY

A recent development in the censorship debate has been the change from a demand for a relaxation of Australian censorship to a campaign for the abolition of all restrictions, not on ordinary literature and films, but on straight out pornography. This follows the lifting of restrictions on pornography in Denmark. Part of this campaign is to attack censorship as being responsible for the creation of pornography—lift restrictions and the interest in pornography dies. {Well. we certainly know now, that is NOT the case!} The other argument is that pornography is in fact not evil but actually beneficial in releasing tensions and frustrations that people suffer; that it serves as a safety valve. This argument was answered very well, I feel, in a letter in the Bulletin (11/7/70, p. 39):

“Are we to accept the proposition that in order to satisfy the hungry we merely present him with a glossy illustration of ready-toeat food? Obviously not. We succeed only in increasing his demand.”

To support their case for the legitimizing of pornography, its proponents point to Denmark as an example of what beneficial results await us. It has been claimed (Bulletin, 11/7/70, p. 34) that punishable sex offences dropped immediately pornography was legalized. How true is this claim? A report by Raymond Gauer, a member of the Federal Commission studying the problem of obscenity in the U.S.A., reported to Congress that the nominal decrease in sex crimes is due to the fact that most such crimes are no longer criminal offences in Denmark. For example, statutory rape is no longer a crime irrespective of the age of the girl. More violent sex crimes have not declined. In any case, the Herald (18/8/70) reported that police and psychiatrists are cautious about linking the drop in minor offences with the lifting of the ban on pornography. Indeed they should be, for it is unlikely that such an effect would be immediate.

Gauer describes what we could expect to happen if pornography were to be legalized here:

“Porno or sex shops have sprung up all over Copenhagen, and feature high-quality colour picture magazines, depicting every imaginable form of perverted sexual activity, including homosexuality, bestiality, sadism and masochism. Live sex shows are sponsored by many of the sex shops in back rooms, and are advertised prominently and explicitly in Ekstra Blade, Copenhagen’s largest circulation newspaper.”

In Sweden shoppers are confronted by displays of pornography in sex shops. The enormous profits to be made have already attracted the Mafia which is now heavily involved in the industry.

With such a public display of pornography in the shops and in the daily papers it will be almost impossible for those parents who wish to rear their children free from the contamination of such material to exercise their rights to do so.

Further ammunition for the campaign to legalize pornography is at present being provided by the Presidential Commission on Obscenity and Pornography in the U.S.A. Preliminary reports of this Commission have produced headlines in our press such as “Erotica does not corrupt youth” and “Sex education would stop pornography.” However, Charles Keating, a lawyer and a member of the Commission, has called preliminary reports a “national hoax” (Tribune, 13/8/70). The Age (24/8/70) reported that the Commission has spent $1.5 million, is deeply divided, and that the Nixon administration is not particularly anxious to own it. At the same time Congressmen are being flooded with protest mail and Mr. Nixon has a bill before Congress to tighten restrictions against pornography. Dr. Victor Cline, a Utah psychologist, has attacked the Report as “rigged” (Herald 12/7/70). He says it has ignored increases in rape, venereal disease (which has increased alarmingly) and illegitimacy, and that in fact it “is a gross mixture of truth and error, part science fiction, and certainly a travesty as a scientific document.”

CENSORSHIP CREATES DEMAND

The most cogent argument the opponents of censorship advance is that it has the opposite effect from that intended. Forbid something and everyone wants it. Ban a book and everyone wants to read it. From this point of view it would seem better not to ban a book as this would mean that most of its readers would then be reading it because of their interest in literature, not from a prurient interest in its salacious passages. Banning a book or film frequently provides the distributor with an advertising angle which leads to greater profits.

The recent release of Portnoy’s Complaint is cashing in on the fact that its entry into Australia has been banned. Many of its buyers could not care less about its literary qualities or artistic freedom or freedom to read—they are interested only in the “dirty bits.” Copies will be passed from hand to hand; they will open automatically at certain pages; and these passages will be the only ones read by many. It is often claimed that we are an adult nation and so should be allowed to read what we like. But such an attitude is anything but adult. Look at the advertisements for films in the daily press and you will see that the film distributors do not think that they are dealing with an adult audience either.

Should we then abandon censorship of books, hoping that only the more educated (and presumably more mature) section of the community will read them, and without any effect? There does seem to be a good case for this policy. The alternative is to make censorship so effective that it is impossible for the present farcical situation of Portnoy’s Complaint to develop, whereby something excluded from entry into Australia can be published inside the country. As far as films are concerned, because they reach a wide audience, censorship here is still desirable. At the same time advertising which emphasizes sex and nudity should be banned.

II

THE CASE FOR CENSORSHIP

“Any community must provide a basic code of mores for its members, yes; youthful entrants to the gr oup need and want the security of such a framework of moral recognitions, however little they may be prepared explicitly to admit it. Certain prohibitions probably constitute a necessary element in such a code. The gassier type of liberal who denies or ignores such considerations doesn’t know the anthropological facts of life.”

These are not the words of a proponent of censorship, but of one who believes that censorship should be reformed and limited. However, in these words, A. A. Phillips (Meanjin, 1969, p. 512) puts the case for the provision and maintenance of community standards of conduct very well. Once these standards are attacked, the community is attacked.

When this argument is admitted, and most reasonable people do admit its validity, then some form of censorship becomes necessary—especially for the young. The Bulletin (9/8/69, pp. 43–4) sought the views on censorship of a variety of people, ranging from Richard Walsh, erstwhile editor of Oz, to Jacki Weaver, actress and TV star. The majority recognized the need for protection of the young from some of the material currently being presented. Walsh felt that ideally the censorship should be imposed by the parents, but recognized that the neglect of some parents made legal restriction necessary; “in this case,” he said, “the harm of omission would be greater than the good you’d get from being liberal.” Jim Spigelman, president of Sydney S.R.C., {Student Representative Council} felt that television was in a different category from stage and screen as the viewer is not making a conscious choice from a wide variety of alternatives. He favoured a general sort of censorship and restriction of children under a certain age from entering certain theatres. Janne Walmsley, who played a part in Ned Kelly, was not sure what children should be excluded from “because children can be upset by all kinds of things that have no effect on adults.”

Obviously, then, there is a fairly general agreement that children need to be protected in some way. How to do this and at what age restriction should be removed, is not so certain. Another question now arises. Are the children the only ones who need protection? What about the emotionally immature and the mentally unstable members of the community? Do we disregard them because they are adult? We are told that those who are likely to be affected by obscenity or pornography are the unstable, therefore it does not matter if they come in contact with it. But would we leave money around to tempt the kleptomaniac?

The incidence, of pack rape has increased alarmingly in recent years, due partly, I believe, to the lowering of community standards of decency in films, books, advertising and dress. In many cases the attackers are young labourers in their late teens. They are both uneducated and immature—should they be protected? It is virtually impossible to prove that lowered standards are responsible for their actions, but neither can it be proved that they are not. However, in a recent case, Judge Franich declared unequivocally that the crime committed was the result of the reading done by the accused. It is all very well for academics with their higher standard of education to sit back and declare that obscenity and pornography have no effect.

Our society is based on the family unit. Anything which attacks the solidity of that unit is undermining society. Any influences which produce a belief in the community that divorce, adultery and promiscuity are acceptable—even desirable—are attacking the family. After an examination of over 80 societies, J. D. Unwin, M.C., Ph.D., came to the conclusion that:

“Every civilization is established and consolidated by observing a strict sexual and moral code, is maintained while this strict code is kept, and decays when sexual licence is allowed.” (Quoted in Age, 1/9/70).

This thesis is supported by other noted historians including Toynbee, Sorokin, Mommsen, Lecky, Lot, Hitti and Voegelin.

Apart from the influence of promiscuity on the family structure, it has other community significance. While it is frequently claimed that casual sexual contacts concern only the individuals involved, there is often a wider social implication. The result of such promiscuity is often the illegitimate child, care and responsibility for whom often devolves on the community at large. Or its arrival may cause unhappiness in the girl’s family, leading even to permanent estrangement from her parents; or to forced marriage with often tragic results. Thus an action which gave a fleeting moment of pleasure may result in lasting unhappiness.

Our illegitimacy rate is the highest now in 1970 than it has been since the last (19th) century. Unnatural sex offences showed an increase of 46.6% over the last twelve months. Whether we can prove the causes of such facts or not, they are matters for serious community concern.

Another reason why some censorship is desirable is that it is necessary to prevent the debasement of sex and the status of women (or of the opposite sex). Far too often today, sex is presented as merely another appetite, like that for food and drink, and women (or the opposite sex) as existing merely for the gratification of that appetite. This attitude is seen most obviously in advertising where the presence of a scantily clad girl is considered necessary to sell anything from a fountain pen to a family sedan. A quick perusal of any newspaper or magazine will confirm this. But there is some evidence that there is a growing awareness of the undesirability of this practice. R. R. Walker (Age, 27/6/70) says:

“Moral judgements aside, it is clearly absurd to advertise a spanner or a pipe tobacco or a rotary motor as a sex symbol yet this has been done . . . There is demonstrable evidence, however, that sex and “nudity” are often used as eye-catching come-ons for functional products where such ploys have no place in the real decision making process . . . In fact, advertisers who use sex or nudity for products, where it is totally irrelevant are mostly wasting their money.”

The argument used here is purely commercial, but H. Schachte, an executive of one of the world’s leading advertising agencies, bases his case on moral grounds:

“Communication and advertising media must mount an attack against a problem more insidious than air pollution the contamination of minds by pornography. We must show our youth beauty and love, not debasement.”

Another reason for maintaining some censorship is to enable our children to grow up with the right set of values to sex and to life. As Dr. Joyce Brothers points out (New Idea, 8/8/70):

“It [pornography] can confuse and even frighten preadolescents and young adolescents who haven’t yet worked out their feelings about sex. Most authorities would probably agree with a statement by the New York Academy of Medicine that “the reading of salacious literature encourages a morbid preoccupation with sex and interferes with the development of a healthy attitude and respect for the opposite sex.” “

Elsewhere (Woman’s Day, 10/8/70) she says that any child over three is disturbed by exposure to adult nudity and that older children might be even more aware of its seductive overtones.

Obviously then, if our children are to be brought up with a balanced attitude towards sex, they must be protected from contact with such warping influences. It is not enough to say that parents should provide this protection. There are some parents who are too ignorant or careless to do so, while those who do know and care often find it hard to guard against such influences because they invade the home through the daily paper and the television set. The only remedy is to protect the young by legal sanctions, just as we protect them from exploitation by greedy employers or from cruelty at the hands of violent parents.

ANTICENSORSHIP THE “IN” THING

At the present time those who wish to be thought progressive are in the ranks of the supporters of birth control, abortion, euthanasia and of the opponents of censorship. It is currently fashionable to oppose censorship; indeed, it must be hard not to, for the only arguments one is likely to see are against censorship. The daily press, film makers, authors, radio and television stations all push the line of freedom of expression.

This is not surprising for they all have a vested interest in doing so—bigger sales, more profits, greater royalties. The U.S. publishers of Lady Chatterley’s Lover saw their shares rise 600% in six months. Also in the U.S.A. customers paid up to seven times the normal prices to see Oh! Calcutta! Harry Miller, Australian producer of Hair, raised $100,000 to finance the show; this cost was recovered in 10 weeks. It is now making 5–6% per month (B. A. Santamaria, Social Survey, p. 204).

But not all those who make a living from publishing, films or theatre, or writing agree with the current preoccupation with obscenity and nudity. It takes a good deal of courage to swim against the tide of prevailing opinion, but there are some who do. David Merrick, Broadway producer of some 40 hits, including Hello, Dolly! and Private Lives, has written an article Must Smut Smother the Stage (Reader’s Digest, March 1970) in which he attacks the sexridden plays being produced in the U.S.A. “If a play requires explicit sexual scenes,” he says, “then the writer hasn’t much new or creative to say.” Actor John Wayne has warned (Advocate, 25/6/70) that the “fast buck” operators who are “cashing in on pornography and depravity” may kill the movie going habit. Country and western singer, Johnny Cash, has refused to play opposite a semi-nude actress in a forthcoming film (Herald, 23/7/70). Orson Bean, in Melbourne to play the lead in Promises, Promises, says that:

“America is just like the Hebrew children with their golden calf and their orgies. Most of us are looking for a Moses to pull us out of it all—out of the pornography, the moral laxity and the smut.”

Debbie Reynolds has not appeared in a film for some time because “Everything these days involves nudity and I will simply not do nude scenes.” (Herald, 28/8/70).

Our GovernorGeneral, Sir Paul Hasluck, himself a writer and a poet, has asked “is the permissive society as it is being practised in Australia one where people who want to be dirty can be dirty-or are people who would like to be clean having muck thrown all over them?” (Age 21/1/70). Malcolm Muggeridge, world famous writer, editor and commentator, has deplored the “miserable outcome of the spread of the language of Shakespeare and the Authorized Version of the Bible thus to provide a vehicle for the dissemination of illiterate filth.”

And he has attacked “the motley procession of writers, critics, crazed clerics and other miscellaneous intelligentsia prepared at the drop of a hat to pronounce the latest outpouring of sub-standard smut an essential contribution to contemporary letters.” (National Decency News, May 1970).

Actress Maureen O”Hara declared in a TV interview that nudity in films was being used to cover up a lack of ability to write good stories. (This interview was not reported in at least one of the Melbourne dailies, presenting us with an example of a more insidious form of censorship—that exercised by the editors of newspapers).

Thus there are those who are prepared to speak out against the trends in films, theatre and literature, but their utterances often are not given the same prominence as those of the opponents of censorship.

DO PRESENT METHODS OF CENSORSHIP NEED OVERHAULING?

Although Peter Coleman, a convert from the anticensorship camp, has said that “It does not matter much that censorship be consistent or even ineffective . . . the important thing is that gestures be made” (Bulletin, 11/4/70), I believe that if we are to have a system of censorship, then it should work as effectively as possible. If censorship can be shown to be ridiculous, then it must fall into disrepute.

First, some of the demonstrable inconsistencies in the applications of censorship must be removed so that a book of some literary quality is not banned while worthless material is allowed to enter the country.

Second, the anomalous position which allows a book banned by the Customs Department to be smuggled in and published here with impunity, must be rectified.

Third, the entry of all pornographic material should be prohibited and its publication in Australia prevented.

Fourth, the present proposal to introduce an R Certificate for films should be implemented. While it is necessary to protect the young, it would be wrong to restrict adult entertainment to what is suitable for children.

Fifth, stricter control of advertising to limit the use of nudity and exploitation of sex is necessary.

CONCLUSION

A recent Four Corners program on insecticides dealt with the dangers of a chemical called 24 D. Experts differed on whether it was dangerous or not. The final message was that while there was any doubt, then use of 24 D should be banned. I believe that there is reasonable doubt about the effects of obscenity, pornography and violence, and so we should maintain a system of censorship. As Mr. Chipp has said:

“If a community believes that the untrammelled circulation of certain material is objectionable to itself as a community, then it has a right, through a democratically established government, to protect itself.”

Gallup Polls indicate that the community does believe that present censorship standards must be maintained, but the community must not merely sit back and expect the government to protect it.

Parents, in particular, have a prime responsibility in censoring what their children read, what films they see, what TV programs they watch; in registering their protests in writing to advertisers, to newspapers, to magazines, to Mr. Chipp, {the Federal Minister in charge of the Office of Film and Literature Classification,} whenever they feel community standards have been breached.

Ideally, each of us should be his own censor, but meanwhile legislation is necessary to protect the weak and the immature.

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Charity

MEDITATIONS

BY RICHARD F. CLARKE S.J

INDEX

1-THE DEFINITION OF CHARITY

1. ‘What is charity? It is an infused virtue, by which we love God for His own sake and above all things, and our neighbour as ourselves for the love of God. It is the best gift that God Himself can give, the gift compared with which all other gifts are insignificant and valueless. It is the end and aim, the perfection and crown of the Christian life. If we possess it we have all things; if we possess it not, we have nothing; we are miserable and wretched and poor and blind and naked before God. Pray that God may teach you to know and to love His Divine gift.

2. Charity is called an infused virtue, because we can only obtain it if God shall please to pour it into our soul. No amount of practice can make it ours. No natural benevolence will develop into charity unless God adds that supernatural character which alone can render it pleasing in His sight and meritorious of eternal life. We must carefully distinguish natural from supernatural charity, and beware of being satisfied with the former.

3. Charity is also one of those virtues which are called Christian virtues, inasmuch as their model and type is the Life of Christ upon earth, because they unite us to Christ and make us like to Him. It is true that this is in itself pre-eminently the Christian virtue, and when St Paul says, “Put ye on the Lord Jesus Christ” (Romans xiii. 14), he refers alone to the virtue of charity with which we must be clothed if we are to be the servants and followers of our Lord. How far can I say that I am clothed with charity so that all around me see it? Do they not too often detect in me a lamentable want of this virtue?

2-CHARITY A LOVE OF FRIENDSHIP

1. Charity is primarily a love for God and a love of friendship, which is the highest kind of love. All true friendship implies that the love exists on both sides. Men are not friends unless each of them possesses and recognizes the love of the other. If we are really the friends of God, we shall recognize His love, and find in all that happens to us a proof of His love and friendship, not complaining or wishing that He had acted otherwise, but being fully convinced that He never does anything or permits anything which is not intended for our good. Until we do this our friendship is a very imperfect one.

2. Friendship also requires that we declare our love to God. He knows it already, and the exact degree in which it is present in our hearts; but He likes to listen to our assurance of the love we bear Him. Our love is prone to wax cold unless it finds expression in words, and it is a pleasure to those who are close friends to make known to each other their mutual sentiments of friendship. God does not spare in His written Word to give us the strongest assurances of His undying love to man. Do we in return assure Him of our grateful love to Him, the best and dearest friend we have in Heaven or on earth?

3. Whatever words we use they cannot surpass God’s messages of love to us. He says that if a woman can forget the son of her womb, He will not forget us. (Isaias xlix. ‘i.) That He loves us so dearly, that He spared not even His own Son, but delivered Him up for us (Romans viii. 32), and therefore can refuse us nothing that we ask for. (St John xvi. 23, 24.) What have we to say to Him, as a counterpart of loving words like these?

3-CHARITY A LOVE OF COMPLACENCY

Charity is also a love distinguished by the complacency or pleasure that it takes in the welfare of him who is its object. Let us apply this to the supernatural charity that has God for its object.

1. It takes pleasure in thinking of God’s infinite perfections. It rejoices in His unapproachable majesty. The continual joy of the angels in Heaven and of the Church on earth is, Gloria in Excelsis Deo. It rejoices in His infinite holiness; Sanctus, sanctus, sanctus, Dominus Deus Sabaoth; in His Power, His Wisdom, His Eternity. Does my heart rejoice in the thought of God’s power and glory and in my complete subjection to Him?

2. Charity also thinks with complacency of the homage paid to God by angels and by men; of the honour He derives from the holiness of the saints, from the immaculate purity of His Holy Mother, from the obedience of the Son of God to His Eternal Father, and from the Sacrifice on Calvary whereby the world was made once more the Kingdom of God, and filled with tens of thousands of saints. For all this I must render thanks to God, and rejoice in the glory He derives therefrom. I thank Thee, O my God, that Thou hast on earth so many faithful servants who give glory to Thy Name.

3. Charity, moreover, rejoices exceedingly in the honour done to God whenever a sinner is reconciled to Him. The angels rejoice over the sinner doing penance, not so much for his own sake as because God’s Kingdom is thereby enlarged and His glory increased. So, too, we ought to rejoice in the conversion of every sinner, and this the more because we are sinners and therefore can appreciate the better the injury done to God by sin, and the honour He receives when sin is blotted out and the sinner is reconciled to Him.

4-CHARITY A LOVE OF BENEVOLENCE

1. By love of complacency we take a personal pleasure in the good of our friend, by a love of benevolence we desire to see that good increased. The benevolence of charity consists in an ever-present desire that the glory of God may be promoted by all men who live upon the earth, that His Kingdom may spread, that the number of the saints may receive continual additions, that sinners may be converted to Him. This is the chief wish of our hearts, and is ever present to our minds; that the interests of God be everywhere advanced.

2 . This love of benevolence also includes a feeling of grief and sorrow whenever we hear of anything that is an insult to God’s honour or that diminishes His eternal glory. All the sins of men cause a real pain to those in whose hearts is present supernatural charity ; all sacrileges, impieties, forgetfulness of God which they witness around them wound them, and cause them to suffer. Above all they compassionate the sacred sufferings of Jesus and the agony of Body and mind that were caused Him by our sins.

3. Charity, moreover, requires that we shall not be satisfied with a mere feeling of good-will. Our benevolence must be a practical one. We must do our part to add to God’s glory. In proportion to our charity will be our devotion of every act and word and thought to the glory of God. When St Paul said: “Whether you eat or drink or whatever you do, do all to the glory of God,” he was but inculcating a precept of charity. What do I do to promote God’s glory? Alas, how much less than I ought!

5-CHARITY A LOVE OF CHOICE

1. Although God chooses out of the world those on whom He sets His love and for whom He destines the rich gifts of grace and glory, yet He never forces their will. He draws them to Himself with the cords of love, but it is in their power to resist. All men choose deliberately at some period of their lives between the love of God and the love of self. Our homage to God must be a voluntary homage, and our love must be a voluntary love. It must be a choice of God in spite of the difficulties and objections that are raised by our lower nature. Have I made this choice? And do I make it in all the details of my life ?

2. It seems almost a matter of course that every sane man should choose Him who contains all perfections in an infinite degree, rather than any of the miserable trifles which do not satisfy and soon pass away.

Yet how few there are who make a full and complete choice of God! The Prophet complains (Jerem. ii. 13) “They have forsaken Me, the fountain of living water, and have digged themselves cisterns, broken cisterns, that can hold no water.” Do I not, alas! every day choose some passing indulgence, though I know I should please God more and earn His love if I denied it to myself?

3. Our Lord tells His Apostles: “You have not chosen Me, but I have chosen you.” So God has chosen us rather than we Him. He has gone before our choice with His preventing grace and co-operated with it and carried it through to the end. It was more His than ours. This is true of all vocations, great or small, when we have through God’s mercy chosen Him rather than yielded to natural inclination. O my God, choose me ever, and grant that I may ever choose Thee!

6-CHARITY A SUPREME LOVE

1. Charity does not exist within the soul of anyone who does not love God above all things. If some created being has the first place in our heart and God only the second, then we are the enemies, not the friends of God. He must have all our heart or none. “Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with thy whole heart and thy whole soul.” If any person or thing hinders this supreme love for God, we must avoid it at any cost, or if this is impossible, we must pray earnestly that we may never fall into the terrible misfortune of loving the creature more than the Creator, who is God, blessed for ever.

2. This, however, does not mean that we must needs have a stronger feeling of love for God than for some loved object upon earth. We cannot always control our feelings. We are creatures of sense, and our senses and imagination have great power over us. Nor does it mean that the love of God is to swallow up the love of things created: this is impossible. Nor, again, does it mean that there must be no possible circumstances that we can imagine in which we could not promise to choose God, however violent the temptation might be. It simply means that as I am now and under present circumstances, I would give up anything rather than offend God mortally.

3. This supreme love of God includes a conviction that God is our best friend, and therefore He will never ask of us what is beyond our power. He will provide an escape from every temptation, however violent. Hence I will have no fear about the future. God will never ask of me what He does not give me strength to perform.

7-THE DISINTERESTEDNESS OF CHARITY

1. Charity is a love of God for His own sake. In its perfection it banishes self altogether. It does not advert to self or to that which self desires. It thinks only of God, His greatness, His goodness, and seeks to promote His honour, His glory, simply for the sake of promoting the honour and glory of One so infinitely worthy of our love and homage, quite independently of any reward or gain which is to accrue to ourselves thereby. Is this the nature of my love of God?

2. Yet if “charity begins at home” and we necessarily as rational beings seek what is good for ourselves, how is this disinterested love possible? It is because those who possess it find their highest and purest happiness in this forgetfulness of self. In their very neglect of the interests of self they are really procuring for themselves the greatest of all rewards, the joy which comes of loving and serving God simply and solely for His own sake.

3. Do those who have this charity in their hearts seek at the same time the eternal blessedness of Heaven? Some of the saints in an ecstasy of love have, like Moses and St Paul, protested that they would willingly forfeit the prospect of their own eternal happiness if thereby they could promote the glory and honour of God. They did not mean thereby to relinquish the hope of Heaven, but that their Heaven was formed in this highest love, and that any happiness save this was as nothing in their eyes. The highest charity indeed includes a longing after the Beatific Vision, but this is secondary to the absorbing love of God simply for His own sake, and as so worthy of our love.

8-CHARITY AND SELF-LOVE

If charity really promotes our highest interests, and even in its most disinterested form ministers to our good, how is it that it is so often placed in contrast with self-love?

1. When we speak of self-love we do not mean that true love of self that is identical with charity, but we mean the love of our lower self. We mean the choice of some immediate good instead of the far higher and nobler good that we shall secure by sacrifice of the lower good. Self-love is the love of the child for the unwholesome sweets that it knows will produce sickness on the morrow. How often my self-love has led me to grasp at the passing enjoyment instead of the solid happiness which I should have gained by renouncing it.

2. But self-love does a still more mischievous work. It leads us to thrust ourselves into a position which we know is a false one, in order that we may gratify our desire for independence and for liberty. Self-love hates subjection, and is thus diametrically opposed to charity, which loves to be subject. Self-love hates the lowest place or humble work and yearns after notoriety or prominence. Charity appreciates the nothingness of self and desires that God should be all in all.

3. Self-love, again, cannot endure any sort of reproof or correction, it rebels against it and longs to revenge itself. It is thus no true love of self, for he who really loves himself or rather who finds his highest happiness in preferring God to self, welcomes anything that tends to lower self and to make God the exclusive object of his love. Then in hating self he loves self with a true self-love and will reach charity. Is this my relation to self?

9-THE ALL-IMPORTANCE OF CHARITY

1. “If I have not charity I am nothing.” These are the words of Holy Scripture written under the inspiration of

God Himself. Unless we are united to God by the habit of supernatural charity, unless we love Him before all else for His own sake with a supreme and unselfish love, we are not children of God but aliens; we have no inheritance in the Kingdom of Heaven, we can earn no merit before God, all that we do has no beauty in His sight; all our actions, however noble and generous, do not really please Him, or deserve grace in this life or glory in the next.

2 . Moreover, unless there is at least an initial element of charity in our actions, they will not help us in any way on the road to Heaven. Acts of faith and hope, though they may be performed by one who has not perfect charity, contain an unformed and rudimentary element of charity. They are the germ or bud from which charity may afterwards spring, and in this way they lead on to charity. But in themselves they gain no merit unless they are the actions of one who has already charity in his heart.

3. Even if we have the habit of charity and are in a state of grace, our actions are not meritorious before God unless they are done from a motive of charity. Charity must in some way influence them, if not with a present thought of God, yet with the golden light of our love to Him lighting them up. Without this they may count for nothing, or at most merit only a natural reward. If I give money purely out of natural compassion and pity, I gain a temporal, but not an eternal reward. How careful I must be to offer to God each act of charity to men!

10-THE SPIRIT OF CHARITY

1. The spirit of charity is none other than the Holy Spirit of God, the Third Person of the Ever-Blessed Trinity. He not only is the Spirit of Charity, but Charity itself. The personal love of the Eternal Father for His co-equal Son, is identical with the Holy Ghost who proceeds from the Father and the Son. All these Persons are thus consubstantial and co-equal, united together by Infinite Love, and this Infinite Love is itself one of these Divine Persons. Adore this mystery, and pray for the humble faith which believes what it cannot comprehend.

2. It is from and through the Holy Spirit that the Charity of God is imparted to us. The Charity of God is poured out into our hearts by the Holy Spirit which is given to us. When we receive the gift of supernatural charity we also receive into our hearts the Holy Spirit Himself, who is really present with us and by His presence produces all the graces that flow from His seven-fold gifts. Reflect on the exceeding honour we thus enjoy, and pray that you may never grieve the Holy Spirit who is in you by your want of charity.

3. Charity is also mentioned as the first and foremost of the fruits that the Holy Spirit causes to ripen in our hearts. “The fruit of the Spirit is charity, joy, peace, patience, benignity, goodness, longanimity, mildness, faith, modesty, continence, chastity.” (Galat. v. 22, 23.) All these fruits are but the effects of charity. Charity brings joy because it unites us to God, and peace because it prevents our will from rebelling against His. Pray that the Holy Spirit may impart to you these fruits of His presence; above all, the charity whence the rest proceed.

11-Charity in our Actions

1. We have seen that charity must influence all our actions if they are to be meritorious in the sight of God. But this does not mean that the conscious motive of promoting God’s glory should ever be present to our thoughts. This is an end to be aimed at. The saints had God always before their eyes, and every movement, every act, however trifling, was done with the motive of pleasing Him. But ordinary Christians can only attain after long years so close a union with God. They must begin by offering up their actions to Him from time to time, and renewing the offering as often as they can. Am I striving to do this? and am I advancing in this practice of charity?

2. One thing we must never omit: to offer our actions to God when we rise in the morning. We should make the sign of the Cross, repeat some little ejaculation consecrating the day to God, e.g., “O my God, I offer Thee all my actions, thoughts, words, deeds and sufferings of this day in union with those of Thy beloved Son, our Lord Jesus Christ.” This little prayer I will say with the intention of its lasting through the day, even though I may forget it, and I will pray that all I do may be influenced by it.

3. But this single offering can scarcely continue to have any controlling power over our actions unless it is renewed. Its influence fades away; we not only forget it, but become so absorbed in our various occupations that we are in danger of ceasing to do them in any sense for God. A frequent renewal of the intention to do all for God is necessary. Do I thus renew it at Holy Mass, when I say grace at meals, when the Angelus rings or the clock strikes, at mid-day and in the evening, and at other times beside ?

12-THE PATIENCE OF CHARITY

1. “Charity is patient.” Patience consists in supporting without murmuring or complaint, injuries, hardships, illtreatment, whether they are deserved or undeserved. It is thus a most difficult virtue, and cannot be practised in its perfection except by those who have attained to a high degree of charity. We are naturally eager to defend ourselves, full of resentment when accused, angry when some wrong is done us, anxious to take revenge on our impugner. Yet all this is forbidden by patience and is inconsistent with charity. Can I stand this test?

2. There are some persons to whom patience is specially difficult in every form. Active, energetic, eager natures cannot endure to be thwarted or contradicted; even to be kept waiting irritates them. For them a careful practice of patience is necessary if they are to rise high in virtue. They must begin by suppressing the outward expressions. This will help them to overcome the internal movement of impatience. They must school themselves carefully in little things with a persevering determination to conquer their natural inclination to impatience, else they will offend continually against charity.

3. Patience, like all the virtues, brings its own reward. How much the impatient suffer when checked! How painful is the inward struggle and desire to be rid of the obstacle in their path, or of the person who hinders and annoys them. How they chafe under the restraint that hampers their activity! On the contrary, how full of tranquil peace is one who allows nothing to make him impatient, and who takes everything as coming from God. Do I so act?

13-THE KINDNESS OF CHARITY

1. “Charity is kind.” All appreciate kindness and are drawn towards those who are kind. Even natural kindness is very precious and beautiful. It is one of the marks of a noble and generous character. Yet how often we have to lament over our own want of kindness. We feel it keenly when we think that others are not kind to us. But we overlook our own many acts of unkindness to others. Have I not to reproach myself with omitting many little acts of kindness that I might have done, and sometimes with being positively unkind?

2. Natural kindness is a sort of foundation for supernatural kindness, but the two are very distinct from each other. The one has some natural motive, our own inclinations or love for the individual to whom we are kind, or an innate benevolence. The other has always a supernatural motive and is directed to the glory of God. It is kind to others for Christ’s sake, and for their own sake chiefly as being His brethren and friends, and therefore ours. Do I seek to supernaturalize the kind offices I do for others so as to earn by means of them an eternal reward?

3.If we are kind to others for God’s sake, He will be kind to us in our turn. Yet our kindness must not have any advantage to ourselves for its chief motive, if it is to be the kindness of charity. We must not only have the love of God in our hearts, but we must have the thought of God present to us, and for Him the kind action must be done, because it is a happiness to please Him who is in Himself so kind and good. Does my kindness stand this test?

14—THE CONTENTEDNESS OF CHARITY

1. “Charity envieth not.” Envy is the vice that grudges to another his happiness, liberty, riches, or success, or some other good. It is pained at seeing him in possession of what the envious man desires himself to have, but cannot obtain. Envy is a mean and contemptible vice. What difference can it make to us that others should succeed and be happy? If they were involved in our misfortunes we should be no better off. Examine whether envy lurks in your heart.

2. Envy is a vice that utterly destroys the peace of him who harbours it. He is always uneasy, and he unites the longing for what he cannot have with a sort of hatred of those who are enjoying it, and this double worm gnaws unceasingly at his heart. In our own interest there is scarce any vice that it is such folly to harbour. It is also specially displeasing to God and hateful in His sight, because it is a challenging of His goodness, and a rebellion against a state of things that He has ordained or permitted.

3. How different is the spirit of charity! It takes pleasure in the pleasure of others, it rejoices in their success, and is happy in seeing them happy. It wishes for nothing that others have and that is out of its own reach, for it recognizes the wise providence of God in all that happens, and therefore is perfectly satisfied with everything, and has no wish to see itself exalted and others depressed as envy does. Is my spirit in view of the greater successes of others one of envy or one of charity? Do I rejoice in them, or do I feel vexed and annoyed?

15-THE REASONABLENESS OF CHARITY

1. “Charity does not deal perversely.” Perversity generally results from an overwheening self-love. We all dislike children who seem to take a pleasure in doing a thing just because it is opposed to the wishes or orders of those set over them. Those who are perverse may have clear motives set before them, and may know that a certain course of action is alike their duty and their interest, and yet they set it aside for some folly of their own. In their hearts they perceive its character still more clearly, and would clearly see it to be such were they not blinded by the deceptive mist of their own self-will. Is not perversity an element that enters into my actions from time to time?

2. Opposed to perversity is docility in those who obey, and reasonable conduct in those who have to act for themselves. How we love the docile! Even if we are not docile ourselves, still others are dear to us if they can be easily guided. We also love reasonable men who will take a common sense view of things, and abjure crotchety and misguided theories of their own invention. Even in the natural order such men win our regard and esteem, and how much more when they are influenced to it by the love of God.

3. Charity includes all possible reasonableness and docility. No one can ever accuse it of eccentric action, or of running counter to others unnecessarily. On the contrary, its great aim is to yield to others, and to carry out their will as far as right reason will allow. It will give up what it thinks best to please another unless serious harm seems likely to result therefrom. Such pliability and consideration for the opinion of others is one of the marks of love of God as opposed to the pertinacity and perversity resulting from self-will.

16-THE LOWLINESS OF CHARITY

1. “Charity is not puffed up.” One of the great dangers of prosperity is that it so often produces a fatal exaltation of self. We are flattered by others and we begin to think that we are persons of importance. Those around give way to us, listen to us when we speak, respect our opinion, and at once in our folly we fancy ourselves distinguished and eminent persons, and expect to be treated accordingly. This temper, if it exists in us, shows that we are very deficient in true charity, for charity is never puffed up with a high estimate of self.

2. How does charity prevent this self-conceited pride and arrogance? It would seem as if humility were the proper virtue by which it is to be met. Humility is indeed more obviously its opposite, but charity is equally a remedy for it. For charity is an emptying-out of self in order to give place to God alone. True charity ignores self, despises self, and is therefore quite incompatible with the temper which is nothing else than a magnifying of self and an ignoring of God. Which of the two tendencies is the stronger in my heart?

3. We are not likely to arrive at a true estimate of ourself unless others treat us as we deserve. How are we to know what our deserts may be? Our idea of our own deserts will be regulated by the degree of our charity. Those who esteem God the most esteem themselves the least, consider themselves worthy only to be trampled underfoot, spat upon. How should I appreciate such treatment? Would my charity enable me to rejoice in it, as suitable indeed for one like myself?

17-THE SELF-SACRIFICE OF CHARITY

1. “Charity seeketh not her own.” In all the affairs of life men may be divided into two classes; those whose eye is always fixed upon some advantage to themselves and those who devote themselves without thought of self to the work in which they are engaged, and whose object is to carry it through, even at the cost of suffering and humiliation to themselves. When I look at my life and the motives that guide it, do I recognize in myself that sacrifice of self which is of the essence of charity?

2. What is the test of this spirit animating my life? Not zeal, for there is a zeal which is nothing but a disguised form of self-seeking. Nor activity, for an active nature rejoices in being employed. Nor a strong interest in the work-perhaps the pious work in which I am engaged. All these may be mere counterfeits. The real test is the willingness that the work should prosper independently of myself; the preference of its success, even though I myself am thrust out of it, to my own success in it; a readiness to disappear if only I can do anything to help the good cause.

3. Yet this is not enough. I must not be satisfied with a general willingness to obliterate myself, especially where this is perhaps impossible. I must also, if my motives are pure, be ready to be taken down, humbled, misjudged, thought little of; I must be prepared to accept all the blame of failures and to see others reap the praise of success that I know is through God’s grace done to me. I must rather rejoice in this as a good sign. Can I stand this test?

18-THE MEEKNESS OF CHARITY

1. “Charity is not provoked to anger.” One of the strongest instincts of human nature is the instinct of selfdefence. In some it is almost irresistible. The desire to return blow for blow, is, within due bounds, a reasonable and lawful impulse, and is prompted by the duty we owe to ourselves.

Yet there is no tendency more likely to lead to sin if it is indulged; none more prone to set aside prudence, justice, and, above all, charity. Am I one of those natures ready to take up arms in my own defence at the slightest provocation?

2. The instinct of self-defence is always prone to mislead us on account of our excessive self-love. We fancy we have been attacked when nothing of the sort is the case; we see a slight or insult when none was intended. We do not remember how simple the true explanation may really be. We get angry and long for revenge and are carried beyond all bounds by our wounded self-love, and say and do what we afterwards bitterly regret, alienating others from us and offending God by our angry words. How often, alas, I have done this!

3. How is this evil to be remedied? By charity and nothing else. If God were more prominent in our hearts, if we loved God more and ourselves less, if our ambition were to promote His honour not our own, we should not indulge in these outbursts of intemperate or bitter words, we should not be easily provoked or get angry as we do, but should either take a gentle view of what has been done, or else should accept the injury or unkindness done us for our sins, and in union with the supreme charity of Christ our Lord.

19-THE JUDGMENTS OF CHARITY

1. “Charity thinketh no evil.” We are all surrounded by those of whose actions we are continual witnesses and of whose character we cannot help forming an opinion from their actions. We see what they do and listen to what they say, and we not only receive a certain impression from them, but are tempted to judge them and to pronounce on their moral value. Moreover, we are too prone to judge of them unfavourably rather than favourably, to ascribe to them inferior motives and to see faults in them where there are none, or to exaggerate whatever defects may be found in them. This unhappily is my tendency; I cannot deny it.

2. Why is this? It is because I am so full of faults myself that I see many faults in others. It is the reflection of myself that I find so repulsive in them. I really attribute to them the very defects that in some form or other are to be found in me. It is by reason of my own want of charity that I judge them so harshly. How this ought to humble me, and how careful it ought to make me in my judgment of others.

3. How do men judge who are imbued with the spirit of charity? They think no evil, that is, they never attribute a bad motive to any action if it is susceptible of having been actuated by a good one. If the action is in itself bad, they somehow do not seem to notice it. They are so occupied with their own shortcomings that they do not observe those of others, and where the faults of others are forced on their notice, they search for some excuse or explanation. Is this my temper? Do I thus think no evil?

20-THE ATTITUDE OF CHARITY TO SIN

1. “Charity rejoiceth not in iniquity.” Anything that offends God is necessarily a source of sorrow to the charitable, for as charity consists in loving God above all things for His own sake, and is accompanied by a yearning desire to see Him honoured more and more, that which detracts from His honour cannot cause it any satisfaction, but on the contrary gives it a pain corresponding to the offence committed against God. Do I share this personal sorrow and pain when any wrong is done to His Divine Majesty, or is it to me a matter of comparative indifference?

2. The saints would gladly have given their lives to prevent sin being committed. It was an intense pain to them to think how continually God is offended. Many of them laid down their lives to prevent sin from being committed, they all devoted themselves, with generous self-sacrifice, to the furtherance of God’s glory, and the hindering of sin against Him. By prayer, by active zeal, by word and work, by personal penance, they fought against iniquity. What do I do to check all the sin and vice in this wicked world?

3. Above all, the saints feared and dreaded any sin in themselves. They avoided with the utmost care anything that could lead to sin. No spectacle however magnificent, no honour however brilliant, no pleasure however intense, caused them anything but disgust and horror, if it was in any way mingled with iniquity and tended to it. Is this true in my case? or do I relish things questionable or dangerous, or perhaps not altogether unmixed with positive sin.

21-THE JOY OF CHARITY

1. “Charity rejoiceth in the truth.” Everything that is done to promote the cause of truth is a source of sincere joy to those who have in their hearts the spirit of true charity. It matters not whether the success is due to their own efforts or those of others; they are always glad at the advance of truth, and the defeat of error. How do I testify my joy when truth prevails, when heresy is crushed, when souls are converted to God? Do I say a Te Deum or Magnificat, or thank God with all my heart on these joyful occasions?

2. Charity also finds a pleasure in the truth being known. It has no wish to conceal anything. Those who have it in their hearts make no attempt to hide the truth concerning themselves. They are willing to be known as they really are with all their defects and imperfections. They are even glad that their faults should be manifested, as far as the manifestation tends to the glory of God and the edification of their neighbour. Do I rejoice in the truth being known respecting myself, even in matters that may humble my pride?

3. Do I again rejoice in the truth when I find that I have misjudged or misunderstood my neighbours, and that they are very different from what I thought them to be, and far better than myself? Do I rejoice in the truth when I am shown to be wrong in some opinion, and when others set me right? Do I rejoice in the truth when I am brought face to face with my own weakness and nothingness, and find that I cannot trust in myself but have to trust to God alone? I will examine myself to see what progress I have made in charity.

22-THE SUFFERINGS OF CHARITY

1. “Charity beareth all things.” If there are any who deserve to be exempt from suffering, it is those who are full of the spirit of charity. Suffering is indeed necessary in expiation of sin, and to humble our pride and show us our own misery. But why should the charitable simply because of their charity have to bear all kinds of trials? Yet so it is; generally speaking, the law seems to be the more charity the more suffering. Perhaps this is why I have comparatively little to suffer. Even if I have heavy trials, can I flatter myself that they are the sign of a high degree of supernatural charity?

2. Yet after all it is reasonable that the charitable should suffer when we remember that the Lord and model of all charity suffered all things simply because of His charity. What else caused His Agony in the Garden, His cruel Scourging at the Pillar, His dereliction on the Cross? It was all the result of His Divine charity. We therefore, if we are to follow in His steps, must expect to encounter the same results as a reward for any charity if it resembles His, however remotely. If we are wise, we shall rejoice in any sign that we are to be honoured by sharing our Master’s lot.

3. These sufferings are a source of joy to all who suffer for Jesus’ sake. He rejoiced as a giant to run the course of His Passion, on account of His longing desire to see accomplished the deliverance from bondage of those He loved. For the joy that was set before Him He endured the Cross. So charity rejoices to suffer, because it knows that those sufferings will obtain for it in Heaven the eternal joy of seeing others brought to God by its offering to Him of all that it holds dear.

23-THE FAITH OF CHARITY

1. “Charity believeth all things.” Faith is a preliminary gift of God without which charity is impossible. No one can do any work pleasing in His sight unless he believes in God, and is ready to accept whatever God has revealed. Works of benevolence are not works of charity if he who performs them does not possess this belief, and the charity that rests on a feeble faith will always be itself feeble. He who minimizes in matters of faith will generally have a minimum of charity. Hence pray for a loyal readiness to believe, that so you may obtain an intense charity.

2. Charity, while it believes all things that God has revealed, is the reverse of credulous. It is the bitter enemy of superstition, and carefully examines into the claims of any doctrine or the proofs of any fact that is not already vouched for by authority. It is no act of faith or of charity to swallow down some unauthenticated statement. We should prove all things and hold fast only that which is good. The saints never were credulous or given to believe in portents, omens, or apparitions, unless bearing the mark of the finger of God.

3. Charity supplements faith and it strengthens it. The stronger our love of God, the stronger will be our belief in all that He has revealed. When love waxes cold, faith becomes faint. No man ever loses his faith without first wilfully estranging himself from God by deliberate mortal sin. If I want a strong faith, I must cultivate a fervent charity. If I have difficulties in belief, is it not that there are gaps and defects in my charity? In proportion to my love of God will be my ready acceptance of all that He has revealed.

24-The Hopefulness of Charity

1. “Charity hopeth all things.” How common and how fatal an evil is discouragement! Half of our enterprises fail simply because we get discouraged. More than half of our faults are owing to discouragement. We lose heart, and therefore fail in the necessary perseverance. We become despondent, and seek to console ourselves by some earthly pleasure or perhaps sinful indulgence. No general who was discouraged ever won a victory, and no sinner who lost heart ever became a saint, or even turned to God as long as the despondency remained.

2 . Yet it is no easy thing to keep up our courage and our hope. We so often fail, and failures are discouraging. We commit so many faults, and there is nothing that saps our courage like the consciousness of having done wrong. Then there are the continual impediments and obstacles in our way, and the neglect and indifference shown by others to our work, the opposition we meet with, and a thousand things more. These are too often causes of discouragement to all who are working for God. But we ought not to be discouraged by them, for often difficulties and opposition are the best signs of coming success.

3. How then are we to keep up courage and to be always hopeful? The only chance for us lies in our keeping God always before us and forgetting ourselves as far as possible; that is, it depends on the degree of our charity. When self prevails, sooner or later disappears hope; when God is predominant, hope springs up in our heart. For “Charity hopeth all things,” and I shall have a strong confidence and a certainty of final success if I have a fervent charity.

25-THE RESIGNATION OF CHARITY

1. “Charity endureth all things.” The test of our love for anyone is what we are willing to endure for him. If we love only a little, we are willing to endure but little; if we love much, we are willing to endure much. And if we love him better than ourselves, then it is a positive pleasure to us to endure for his sake what we should otherwise dread and shrink from. Hence the test of our supernatural charity is what we are willing to endure for God; whether it is a pleasure to us to endure positive suffering for Him.

2. We all of us should esteem it a great privilege if we were called upon to lay down our lives for the Faith. But this is a grace which we poor ordinary mortals cannot expect, and we must be careful against deluding ourselves by fancy pictures of the courage we should then display. The real question before us is whether we suffer willingly the little disagreeables of life, bodily ailments, failures in our projects, the neglect or unkindness of others, undeserved reproaches. It is no use thinking of martyrdom till we have learnt to bear these.

3. If I have true charity, I shall take all with joy. There is nothing that I have endured which I would not willingly endure again for God’s sake, and I would, with His grace, accept things still more painful, for charity endures all things sooner than offend God, and fervent charity would endure all things rather than be unfaithful to one single inspiration that comes from Him, or neglect one single grace that He desires to give us. Here is the test for me. How far can I stand it?

26-The Perseverance of Charity

1. “Charity never falleth away.” We are all anxious to persevere to the end. We know that without perseverance all else is of no avail. Of what use was it to the Israelites, who for their sins perished in the desert, to have escaped from Egypt and safely crossed the Red Sea, and toiled for years over the sandy plains? What use to Solomon to have been dear to God and endowed with supernatural wisdom, if, as some think, he did not persevere to the end? So all our graces are of no avail, but rather tend to our condemnation, if we in the end fall away and are lost.

2. Yet who can be certain of perseverance? Who does not tremble at the thought of his own insecurity? We may have great gifts, but they will not save us; talent, activity, zeal, courage, prudence, will be useless to us. Even faith will not save us-the devils believe and tremble- and hope may degenerate into presumption, or may disappear and leave us at the last to an eternal despair.

3. How then are we to be safe? One thing alone never falleth away. One virtue alone will carry us unharmed through every danger. If we have in our hearts that supernatural gift of God which fears nothing so much as to offend Him, then we are safe. Faith may grow dim, all sorts of doubts may present themselves to our minds; hope may seem to have disappeared altogether; all may look black and dark, but if we can say from our hearts that with God’s help we would do or suffer anything rather than offend Him, then we have in our hearts that supernatural charity which unites us to God and ensures our entrance into the Kingdom of Heaven, “for Charity never falleth away.”

27-THE GRATITUDE OF CHARITY

“We love Him because He first loved us.”

1. Perfect charity loves God for His own sake independently of any thought of ourselves. But perfect charity is preceded and accompanied by a charity which has at least an indirect reference to ourselves. The love of God first springs up within our hearts because of the love that He has shown to us. We think of all that He has done for us, and we recognize therein a clear proof of His love. Love begets love, and we cannot help being drawn towards One who has thus gratuitously manifested towards us a charity to which we owe all that is really precious in our lives, and all the good gifts that we possess. How then can we fail to be attracted towards Him who has shown such love to us?

2. This love of gratitude is not the same as the love of concupiscence, nor as the pure love of friendship. It most resembles the latter, and always enters into it. Without some sort of gratitude friendship would be mere admiration; the personal element necessary to love would be wanting. When a Saint dwells with rapture on the Divine perfections, there is always present  to his mind a remembrance of all that God has done for him. Do I ever recount to myself with gratitude all that God has done for me?

3. This element of charity is present in the charity of the saints in Heaven. Their song will not only be: “We give Thee thanks because Thou has taken to Thyself great glory and has reigned,” and also “because Thou hast redeemed us to God in Thine own Blood.” This is the song I must seek to sing in my heart here on earth: “Thanks to God first for His great glory, and then for His goodness and love to me.”

28-CHARITY OUR PROTECTION

“Charity shall cover a multitude of sins.”

1 . One of the characteristics of charity is that it always looks to the bright side of things. It seeks to bring out all that is good respecting others, and to conceal their sins. It does not notice them; it never alludes to them unnecessarily, whether they are committed immediately against man or against God; it has a happy knack of forgetting them or seeming to forget them. It covers them from the eyes of men, and even seeks to obliterate them before God by the prayers it offers for the offender. Is this my spirit? Do I not rather cover the virtues of others, and disclose their faults?

2. In this respect it is especially true that we shall be treated as we treat others. “With what judgment you judge, you shall be judged,” says our Lord. If we pass on others the severe sentence of harsh criticism, our sentence will be severe. If we make little of their faults and much of their virtues, God will do the same to us. What utter folly to prepare for ourselves a harsh verdict at the tribunal of Christ by our condemnation of others.

3. Charity shall on the other hand cover a multitude of sins. If we have been always men of charity, it is wonderful how God will seem to have forgotten our many sins. The poor whom we have helped will pray for us; those whom we have comforted in sorrow will say kind things in our behalf, and our charitable judgment of others will find its counterpart in God’s judgment of us. Our sins will be concealed so as to disappear under the mantle of our charity. Is my charity such as thus to cover my sins?

29-THE CHARITY OF GOD

1. Among all the Divine perfections charity is the only one with which God our Lord absolutely identifies Himself. We do not read in the Word of God that God is power, or God is wisdom, but we do read, and this not once only, that God is charity. (i St John iv. 8, 26.) God therefore desires that this aspect of His Divine Nature should be continually before our minds, that we should dwell on His love to us more than on any other of His attributes.

2. When God appeared on earth, it was but natural that the perfection most characteristic of His Divine Nature should manifest itself most clearly through the veil of His Humanity, that among the qualities acquired by His Sacred Humanity from the Hypostatic Union, the foremost should be that with which He most completely identifies Himself. Who can study our Lord’s life on earth without recognizing above all His unbounded charity and the intensity of His love for us?

3. We notice another phase of this love in Jesus Christ which helps us to confidence in the love of God. His charity was above all a charity to sinners. He had a sort of preference for them, they were His friends and companions. He sought them out, and His charity to them knew no bounds. How clearly from this we learn the true nature of God’s charity to man. God loves sinners now, He has always loved them and will always love them as He loved them when on earth. What confidence I ought to derive for myself from this thought, and what charity and commiseration for others!

30-THE CHARITY OF JESUS CHRIST

“The Charity of Christ surpasseth all knowledge.”-(Ephes. iii. 19.)

1. In what did the Charity of Christ consist? (1) In an infinite self-abasement for our sakes. From the Throne of God He humbled Himself to the form of sinful man. (2) In a sacrifice of Himself which passes all comprehension, He gave up the infinite joy of Heaven for the sufferings of this valley of tears. (3) In the endurance of mental and bodily agony, of desolation and dereliction, one moment of which would have crushed the life out of the strongest of men. Try and realize those familiar truths, and see what a contrast your life is to His.

2. What are the chief points of contrast?

(a) Christ humbled Himself for the good of others; I seek to exalt myself at their cost. (b) Christ gave up His life of perfect happiness that He might make others happy; I am willing to sacrifice little or nothing, my aim is to make myself happy, not others. (c) Christ endured unspeakable agony to save men from the agony they well deserved. I, on the other hand, complain of the least discomfort, and as to giving up my joys and pleasures for others, and enduring misery for their sakes, I would not even think of it.

3.Yet I consider myself a good Christian and talk glibly about treading in the footsteps of Christ. I expect to be admitted to Heaven as one of His friends and followers. What will He say to me when I present myself? Will He recognize in me any likeness to Himself; any vestige of His Divine Charity? O my God, I must be very different from what I have been if I am to present myself with confidence before Thee as one whose charity is like to the Charity of Christ.

31-CHARITY IN HEAVEN

1. Some virtues there are that will not enter into the door of the Celestial Paradise, inasmuch as they imply some sort of imperfection in the nature of him who possesses them, or the circumstances among which he lives. Such are faith, hope, prudence, &c. But one virtue there is which is not only welcome in Heaven, but reigns there supreme. The very atmosphere of Heaven is nothing else than an atmosphere of charity. It is to the saints and angels the very breath of their life, it is the light that enlightens the celestial city.

2. When we read that the glory of God enlightens the Heavenly Jerusalem and that the Lamb is the light thereof, St John is speaking of that charity with which God has identified Himself, and which shone amongst men in Christ our Lord. Each saint in Heaven will shine with a radiance proportioned to his charity, and will enjoy happiness, the extent of which will be commensurate with his charity. When I shall be judged by the standard of charity shall I be found fit for Heaven at all?

3. Charity is moreover the Queen of Heaven, and therefore may be identified with our Lady, who, next to her Divine Son, was its earthly ideal. This is why she is the Mother of Mercy, and why we fly to her protection in all our troubles. She reigns supreme in Heaven, and her sovereignty is due to her charity. This is why she is the most powerful of all our intercessors, the most loving, the most compassionate, the most tender, the most full of pity for sinners. To thee then, O Mother of Charity, I will fly, and will beg of thee to obtain for me from thy Divine Son more and more of His unspeakable charity.

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Cheshire V. C

BY FATHER BERNARD HOSIE, S.M

“The Story of one of the greatest acts of humanity of our time.” -H.R.H. The Duke of Edinburgh.

INDEX

THE ATOM BOMB

Suddenly the whole world seemed to come apart. The centre of the city collapsed like a pack of cards; a gigantic ‘bubble of fire leaped 2,000 feet into the air; wood, bricks, mortar, even steel, were vaporised in that searing heat. In a fraction of a second, tens of thousands of people went to meet their God; more, far more, were penetrated through and through by the deadly waves they could neither see nor feel, but which would inevitably bring them to a lingering and horrible death.

Eight miles above the stricken city of Nagasaki circled the three Super-fortresses, like great silver birds of prey. They watched the smoke rise ever higher, until it towered 60,000 feet into the air. At its two miles wide base they could dimly see the great tongues of flame that were engulfing the pitiful remnants of the city.

There was silence in the heavens; the men seemed stunned by the awful force they had unleashed. They shuddered as they thought of the agony below; the twisted and broken bodies; the screaming agony of the children who were perishing in the flames. They knew that this was a day the world would never forget; they knew the world would never be quite the same again.

One of the planes contained Group Captain Leonard Cheshire, V.C., Britain’s ace bomber pilot, Winston Churchill’s choice as official British observer of the atom bomb attack. This day was to change his life.

FROM WAR TO PEACE

It would be strange indeed if such a tremendous experience did not have a strong effect on Cheshire, and he himself tells us it did. Years later, when he was founding his first home in India, he was asked what had turned him from a man of war to a man of peace.

“It was the sight of the atom bomb exploding on Nagasaki that made me really think about the purpose of life. I decided that I should like to help to see that such a bomb never had to be dropped again, for I felt that to win the war was not enough; one must also win the peace. But I started at the wrong end. I thought in terms of big plans and ambitious schemes. And I failed. Then I understood that to achieve anything lasting you must start from small beginnings, and build outwards; that the way to contribute towards the peace of the world is to bring peace into your own surroundings, into someone else’s life- first, of course, into your own.”

CHESHIRE THE PILOT

Cheshire had begun his flying career while still at Oxford, in the years before the war. At Oxford he was not particularly brilliant as a student, largely because he was not over-keen on hard work, and spent too much of his time just enjoying life. Still, he managed to pass his examination very creditably, and at the same time show exceptional ability as a pilot. It was natural ,that he should join the R.A.F. when the war began.

As the years went by, the name of Leonard Cheshire became a legend in the R.A.F. It was not merely that he was a brilliant pilot; it was more than the fact that was probably the cleverest tactician that the R.A.F. produced. It was rather that he was such a lovable character; one of those born leaders that men will follow anywhere; a man with the common touch, who was loved by the ground staff technician for his human, approachable ways, no less than by the aircrew he led over Germany.

As the number of sorties he had flown over Germany steadily increased, the R.A.F. tried several times to ground him. They knew only too well the terrible nervous strain of operational flying.

The average aircrew did 25 sorties over Germany; some of those who survived did a second tour of 15. There was the occasional intrepid veteran who did a third, and, in the unlikely event that he survived to tell the tale, finished with 55 sorties to his credit. Cheshire did over 100.

Somehow Cheshire always managed to elude the authorities, and get back into the air. On one occasion he appealed to a flabbergasted R.A.F. psychiatrist, explaining that not being allowed to fly was seriously affecting his nerves!

THE MUNICH RAID

It was especially for the famous “Munich Raid” that Cheshire was awarded the V.C. From some points of view it was the most successful and significant raid of the war. It inaugurated a new technique of bombing which was to be of crucial importance in the air war—and from beginning to end it was the work of the organizing genius and the cold courage of Leonard Cheshire.

Always the primary problem in bombing was accuracy. Cheshire believed that the solution lay in low level marking and directing of bombers. As early as 1940, as a fledgling pilot, he had tried to “sell” his idea, but it was regarded as quite impossible-a low flying plane would never survive the maelstrom of lead that would be hurled against it.

In 1944 Cheshire took command of the famous 617 Squadron-the “Dam-busters.” The extraordinary success he achieved caused Air Marshall Harris to send for Cheshire, to ask him to explain his methods.

Cheshire put forward his theories eagerly. Harris was rather sceptical, but agreed to let Cheshire give it a try; he could choose his own target. It was typical of Cheshire that he chose Munich, one of the most difficult and heavily defended targets in Germany.

The success of the raid is history. As the 300 heavy bombers lumbered in towards the target at 20,000 feet, Cheshire came hurtling in below them, not much above the ground, in a Mosquito. His comrades could follow his path by the line of tracer bullets that followed him as he raced in at 400 m.p.h. to drop his markers. Ninety per cent of the bombs fell in the target area, and the vital marshalling yards were smashed to pieces. Air Chief Marshall Ralph Cochrane wrote later:

“Cheshire was the first man to understand the problem, to grapple with it in his own thorough fashion, and to solve it in action. The entire burden of proof was his, and his greatness as a tactical thinker was established in the process.”

The day was to come when Cheshire was to use these same qualities to grapple with a very different problem.

AFTER THE WAR

Cheshire ended the war with the V.C., the D.F.C., and the D.S.O. with three bars—the most highly decorated airman of the war. What did the future hold for this brilliant young man of 28? That was a question that Cheshire asked himself. Not that he was in any hurry to answer it; he enjoyed the happy life of the London nightclubs; he dabbled rather uninterestedly in journalism, he seriously considered taking up scientific research. There is little doubt that he could have succeeded in any of these if he had really tried.

But the fact is that he had not set his heart on any of these things. He was in considerable demand as a lecturer, and gave some sober and well judged lectures on such matters as the implications of the advent of the atomic age. He saw clearly that the atomic bomb had brought a new factor into the world; the avoidance of war had now become, he considered, a biological necessity. Man had the choice of avoiding war or wiping himself out.

THE GOOD PAGAN

No doubt issues like this made Cheshire think deeply, and perhaps account for his growing interest in social reform. But there is no indication that they were turning him towards Christianity, or even towards God. He had been brought up in the Church of England, but what little faith he had had soon died at Oxford, and he had long been only a good pagan. Even the idea of a personal God had disappeared.

The first step on the long road to his conversion occurred in a most unlikely place, and under the most unlikely circumstances. He was on leave in London in 1945, and indulging in one of his favourite occupations—drinking in a bar in the West End of London, and chatting with his fellow-drinkers. They had been discussing the purposelessness of existence when Cheshire arrived and joined someone mentioned God, and Cheshire laughed at the idea of God- it was nothing but an invention of the human mind, he stated dogmatically. A woman friend listened carefully, and at the end of Cheshire’s little speech, she challenged his smug self-confidence. Where did he find out there was no God? What did he know about God anyhow? He ought to be ashamed to be uttering rubbish like this publicly; certainly God exists, and He is not a mere figment of the human mind, but the Creator of the world.

God uses strange apostles. It was not that the woman advanced any learned arguments for the existence of God; it was rather her firm, calm conviction that shook the self-confidence of Cheshire. She was a woman he liked and respected, and for the first time for many years, he wondered uneasily if it was really quite so evident as he had thought that God did not exist.

THE RESTLESS GENIUS

It is not surprising to find that Cheshire had such trouble settling down. His health was not good; his nerves had inevitably been affected by the unending strain of nearly six years of war, and the sudden release from that strain. His restless, fertile mind was forever evolving new schemes, most of them ludicrously impracticable.

At one time he planned to transport migrants to Australia in renovated landing vessels. Fortunately Government regulations made this impossible. His next venture was to put some money into a flower store in Kensington; eventually it was quite a successful little business, but long ere that Cheshire had sold his shares, and moved on to something else. He dabbled with the idea of an expedition to the North Pole, but soon lost interest in that.

Early in 1946 he began to become aware of the plight of many ex-servicemen. Thrown out into an indifferent world, trained only in the arts of war, which had no market value, many of them faced grave difficulties. Cheshire had always had a strong social conscience, and soon became their spokesman.

THE SOCIAL REFORMER

It was a question, wrote Cheshire, of training these men. If the government could take accountants and draughtsmen and turn them into pilots and gunners, there seemed no reason why the process could not be reversed. The hundreds of letters Cheshire received soon convinced him that something must be done; but he soon saw it would not be done by any indifferent government.

It did not take the fertile mind of Cheshire long to evolve a plan. Not long before he had revisited one of the wartime aerodromes from which he had flown, and he had been saddened to see the loneliness and decay.

“There had once been laughter as well as tragedy in these ghostly surroundings and life had been simple; in four years the sense of purpose sustaining aircrews, ground-crews and a whole people behind them had withered. He saw the aerodrome as a mark of the futile emptiness of life without a common cause; a symbol of mute reproach, like the untended grave of a lover.”

Cheshire published his plan in the newspapers—anything he wrote was still news. Ex-servicemen who had failed to find a place in the world were invited to join him in a plan to take over one of the hundreds of former aerodromes; they would farm the land, turn the hangars into workshops, and the billets into homes. Their aim would not be to settle there for life, but to establish a base from which they could go out into the world with the qualifications they needed.

Cheshire had quite a number of takers for his scheme, but the government showed no desire to give them an aerodrome, and they had little money. Fortunately they were offered the loan of a 45 bedroom house for 12 months, rentfree. With his usual impetuosity Cheshire decided to move in immediately. Cheshire called the group the V.I.P.’s; they had a total capital of -£400.

THE COLONY

The 12 members of the advance party arrived at Gumley Hall before the house was ready for them to take over, so the colony began its days in the barn. They soon gained possession of the Hall, and before long 22 adults and four children were installed in the big house. Their weekly bills amounted to £75—a big drain on their capital of £400! But difficulties like this didn’t worry Cheshire.

The amazing thing is that V.I.P. endured so long; that it did so was in large part due to the fantastic qualities of leadership that Cheshire continued to show. He could persuade men to do almost anything, even against their better judgement. As one of his supporters later expressed it, a little ruefully:

“If he had asked me to pull out my back teeth and lend them to him, I’d have thought twice before refusing. He somehow gave you the feeling that you were really doing yourself a favour in helping him.”

Cheshire had over a thousand applicants to join the scheme, and was convinced that the possibilities were limitless. He was strongly tempted to take up an offer from a woman in Western Australia to sell V.I.P. 60,000 acres of land for £120,000. Only the fact that he had no money prevented him doing so!

The limited tenure the colony had on Gumley Hall, and the growing numbers, made it necessary to buy a new house. The assistance of his family made it possible to buy a large home at Le Court in Hampstead, and most of the colonists moved there.

There is little doubt that the scheme would have failed in any case, but its doom was sealed by the fact that Cheshire’s health broke down. He went to Canada for a long spell, and gradually his health built up. He came back to England in time to preside at the death of V.I.P.

THE WAY TO GOD

Meanwhile Cheshire had been moving steadily back to God. He had long been doubtful about the ability of science to prevent war, and had begun to wonder if Christianity could do so. He had recovered his belief in God, and even began to attend Anglican services occasionally. While he was convalescing in Western Canada, the opportunity for solitude, and the wild beauty of the Rocky Mountains, brought him to an ever deepening belief and trust in an all-powerful Creator.

Looking back over his life, he began to feel, too, that there was some plan behind it all. His incredible “luck” in the war he now saw as something more than that- as the protective hand of God.

It was in Canada, too, that he first became interested in Our Lady. He went to great pains to find out what the Hail Mary was, and began to recite it frequently. “I was astonished at the sense of peace it gave me; it was a source of great comfort and help.”

NEW DIRECTIONS

Most of the property at Le Court was sold to pay the debts of V.I.P., and the house was turned into flats. All but a handful of the original colonists had drifted away, most of them disillusioned with V.I.P. and with Cheshire. One of the few to remain was Arthur Dykes, who had looked after the dog kennels; breeding dogs was one of the many ways the colonists had tried to make a little money. Arthur never lost faith in Cheshire: “He is too big,” he used to say, “something will turn up. He can’t fail.”

In May, 1948, Cheshire went to The Hague as a delegate to the United Europe Movement. Here, for the first time, he publicly proclaimed his faith in God, and his belief that any attempt to build a united Europe not founded on Christian principles was doomed to failure.

When Cheshire returned to Le Court, he found Dykes had been taken to Hospital, and was dying. The Hospital Authorities explained that there was nothing they could do for Dykes; he had no chance of recovering, yet they were anxious to get him out of the Hospital, as they were short of beds.

In view of subsequent developments, it is difficult to see this as anything other than God’s way of showing Cheshire where his true vocation lay.

CHESHIRE THE NURSE

From what we have seen of the strong social conscience of Cheshire, and his compassion for others, it is not surprising to find that he at once assumed the responsibility for Dykes, and promised to find him a home. But Cheshire soon found, that there was no place for the Arthur Dykes of this world. No one was prepared to give a home to a dying man, and Cheshire became aware, for the first time, of a problem which was to occupy him for a great part of his life.

Cheshire told Dykes he was dying, and asked him to come back to Le Court—that was his home. Dykes was pathetically grateful. Cheshire knew nothing about nursing, but he received some instructions from a nurse on how to make a bed, and he was ready to start; He cleaned and painted the room at Le Court, and brought Dykes back.

Arthur was a lapsed catholic, but now found peace and solace in returning to his religion. Cheshire could not but realize that the dying man seemed happier and more settled after the visit of the catholic priest, Father Clarke. It contrasted with his own doubts and indecisions. He was by this time a convinced Anglican, yet he seemed able to find no clear-cut directions from his own church. He was becoming more than ever dissatisfied with the contrary and contradictory teaching that he found there.

As Dykes approached the end, his sufferings increased, but there was never a word of complaint: More and more Cheshire grew to love the undaunted courage of the emaciated little man; more and more he sensed that Arthur was drawing his strength from a source that was more than human. He had no fear of death, now that he was prepared for it, and no doubts about the fact that an infinitely good God was calling him.

Yet the last thing in the world that Cheshire thought of doing was to “become a catholic,” as Arthur kept urging him to do. He knew little about the catholic religion, except that it was a foreign thing, quite alien to everything he had been brought up to believe in.

A CHANCE VISITOR

In August, 1948, a chance visitor called at Le Court. Harry Rae was thinking of starting a home for disabled Welsh workers, and was interested in the fate of V.I.P.

“The scheme was a flop,” Cheshire told him bluntly. “The only thing it taught me was that man’s happiness isn’t determined by his surroundings, but by something deep in himself.”

Rae recognized the spiritual dilemma in which Cheshire found himself, and sent him a little book about the Catholic Church. For a long time Cheshire didn’t even read it; he had received his second patient, and was far too busy.

It was fitting that it should be on the day that Arthur Dykes died that Cheshire read the book. It was entitled “One Lord, One Faith,” by Father Vernon Johnson. Formerly an Anglo-Catholic clergyman, he had, albeit very reluctantly, come to the conclusion that the Catholic Church was the true Church, and had become a catholic.

Cheshire was not very impressed with the early Chapters, describing Father Vernon’s devotion to St. Therese of Lisieux. (Strange, perhaps, because later he was to have great devotion to the Saint.) But he was very impressed by the sound, sober arguments of Father Vernon.

He felt quite confident, however, that his Anglican pastors could easily demolish the apparently solid arguments.

Cheshire was particularly impressed with the Catholic Church’s claim to speak infallibly in the name of Christ. It seemed quite logical that if God should take the trouble to reveal truths to man, he would devise some means to make sure that these were preserved and properly interpreted. Yet at the same time the claim irritated him. It seemed absurd, preposterous, to claim that the Keys of God’s Kingdom had been entrusted to the hands of a mere man.

THE QUEST FOR TRUTH

He lost no time in turning to his Anglican advisers, and was quite staggered by their reaction. It was not so much the fact that they seemed to have no adequate answer; it was their intolerance that surprised and worried him. He was solemnly warned that he was playing with fire; he was told he was betraying the faith in which he had been brought up; that he was imperilling his immortal soul. But answer there was none.

Rather diffidently, Cheshire approached Father Clarke, and mentioned the book he had read. Father Clarke, to Cheshire’s amazement, advised him to make sure he read the Anglican answer! Cheshire borrowed a copy of “One God and Father of All”- and was singularly unimpressed. It seemed to him that it was no answer to the clean-cut claims and solid arguments for the Catholic Church.

CHESHIRE THE CATHOLIC

In September he visited Father Clarke, and asked for instructions in the catholic faith. He was told to wait for another two months; the priest felt that Cheshire should have time to consider the matter carefully, and not rush in in his usual impetuous way.

Once the instructions started, it took Cheshire but a short time to make up his mind, and he soon asked to be received into the Church.

“I was now entirely convinced that the Catholic Church was the true Church,” he wrote later, “not because of this or that or the other argument, but because all the arguments pointed in one direction. I was faced with unity of doctrine, unity of organization, unity of worship. If God exists and has spoken to us, then the facts he has revealed are no more capable of private interpretations than the facts, say, of aerodynamics. When I became a pilot, I had to learn the laws of aerodynamics and went to a training school with the authority to teach me. There I expected and found teachers to give me the facts—not their own personal ideas. To gain the freedom of the skies I had to learn the laws of flight and submit to them.”

AN IMPORTANT DECISION

Cheshire had no thought of starting a permanent Nursing Home when he took Arthur Dykes to Le Court- it was a simple, humanitarian act. But the realization of the happiness he had brought to Dykes, and the empty, lonely death from which he had saved him, together with a growing sense of the thousands of others in the same position, set him wondering.

He asked Dykes’ opinion- should he turn Le Court into a Home for people with nowhere to go, who were incapable of looking after themselves?

“Yes, Len,” replied the dying man, “I think we ought to do it. I think God wants us to. And I think I can help you.”

They decided they would not advertise for patients—they would leave it to God, just as they would leave God to provide the money. Dykes insisted, and Cheshire at once agreed, that they should make it a principle that no patient, however difficult, should be rejected, and that no help should be refused.

As the years went by, Cheshire was to find this policy difficult almost to the point of impossibility, yet he has never gone back on it. As the homes grew into institutions, with Committees to control them, it led to frequent disagreements between Cheshire and the Committees. The Committees refused to take patients they judged too difficult, or beyond their financial capacity.

When Cheshire realized what had happened, he started a new organization, under his own direct control, where he would be free to follow his almost incredibly high ideals. He remained as close as ever to his original Foundations, and eternally grateful to those who helped him. But he was never prepared to rely on merely human prudence and human means. He believed too deeply that it was God’s work he was doing, and God would always provide the means. And somehow or other, God always has.

THE FIRST CHESHIRE HOME

The second patient arrived before Dykes died- a quite impossible old woman called Granny Haynes. Granny was 91 years old, bedridden, deaf, and with no one to care for her. Then came Ted French with osteomyelitis, Anne French with T.B., a man with paralysis, another in the last stages of meningitis, and so on.

A former Air Force comrade visiting Cheshire asked a question which was to be repeated over and over as the work steadily expanded: “What do you do for money?”

The reply was typical of Cheshire; lighthearted, almost flippant, yet absolutely true, and a summary of Cheshire’s approach:

“We just don’t worry about it. It works up to a point. The patients pay what they can. Sometimes we get a contribution from the hospitals which send them, sometimes we don’t. But nobody has had to starve yet.”

Everyone did what they could—much of the value of the homes has always lain in the fact that the patient feels he can do something, however little, towards the community, the home.

THE FIRST HELPER

The first permanent helper was Frances Jeram, an almoner from the Portsmouth Hospital. She was fascinated, not so much by Cheshire himself as by the work he was doing, the value of which she recognized instantly. After several visits she left her well-paid job at the hospital, and came to work at Le Court. Fortunately she already knew Cheshire well enough to take the precaution of bringing her own bed; as it turned out, the room she was given had no furniture, not even a bed! However, there was some food in the house- two tins of spaghetti and a little tea and sugar between the twelve of them—so she was able to get something to eat.

Frances stayed two and a half years; her work was quite invaluable. Her experience enabled the Homes to tie in with the Ministry of Health, so that, at least in England, they never faced quite such dire poverty again.

Frances Jeram was also the first of dozens, indeed of hundreds, of dedicated helpers who always seemed to appear when they were most needed.

THE FIRST COMMITTEE

A few months after the death of Dykes, the roll of patients was twenty-one. Cheshire’s health was again failing, and the doctor ordered him to give up the work at Le Court and take a regular job. Reluctantly, sadly, Cheshire handed over the running of the home to a committee. Their first condition was that it be called the Cheshire Home; his protests were of no avail.

Quite independent of the committee to run Le Court was the Cheshire Foundation Homes for the Sick. This was set up by Leonard’s father, a Professor of Law at Oxford University, and a man of international fame as a jurist.

Both these moves were wise and farsighted; the phenomenal expansion of the work could scarcely have occurred without them. The Foundation made it clear, for example, that the Homes were not to be a denominational affair, belonging to the Catholic Church, since many of the trustees were Anglicans. Such an assurance was very necessary because for Cheshire the work was essentially associated with his new sense of purpose and his new happiness as a Catholic. But it is certain that the scope of the work would have been severely limited if it had become exclusively Catholic.

Yet the institutionalizing of the work also raised problems. Wilfrid Russell, himself a member of the Trust in later years, expresses it well:

“Here began the process of giving the work due form and order, and enshrining its spirit in a definable and lasting constitution. Here began the conflict which could never be truly resolved at any time in the future between Cheshire’s unpredictable, soaring spirit and the, business-like, pedestrian caution of his followers. He was to be more tolerant of their caution than many of them would be of his adventures, for he recognized always that the human soul cannot operate in this world without a body, and that a body without a soul is a lifeless organization. So it would be for him from now on. The Cheshire Foundation and Cheshire would be necessary and complementary to each other. He knew, too, that inevitably they would be at war with each other. The story, as it unfolds, will show how unerring was his instinct at this time.”

A REGULAR JOB

The insistence of the doctor, strengthened by Fr. Clarke’s reminder that everyone has a duty to take reasonable care of his health, led Cheshire to take a regular job. He was lucky enough to get a job with the Vickers Armstrong research unit—which meant that he was flying again.

His lack of experience and training made him of limited value on the research side- though some of his inspired guesses proved useful. But on the organizational side Cheshire soon proved his worth. When the research unit moved to a deserted site in Cornwall, the administration was in the hands of Cheshire, and was executed faultlessly. It is not surprising that, when the time came for him to leave Vickers Armstrong, they tried hard to keep him.

Le Court prospered under the committee. It had become a registered charity, and so entitled to government assistance; this restricted the number and type of patients they could take in. Cheshire kept as close as possible to them; having a Spitfire available, he could fly across most weekends.

THE SECOND HOME

Early in 1951, Cheshire chose his second home, in an abandoned Nissen hut on a lonely airfield in Cornwall. Anything less like a “home” than the dilapidated, filthy old building it would be hard to imagine. But Cheshire set to work with his usual enthusiasm, and had soon cajoled a team of rather sceptical volunteers to help him.

But their scepticism soon melted before the sunny optimism and example of Cheshire, and many of those who came to scoff remained to work. By May the hut had been transferred, and “St. Teresa’s” was opened-newly painted, fresh and clean. And once more the dying, the homeless and the hopeless sick, found a place where they were wanted and loved, a place they could call “home.”

It was at this time that Cheshire was wrestling with personal worries about his vocation in life. He felt strongly the attraction of the priestly and religious life, where his urge to give himself completely to God would be fulfilled. Eventually he decided to enter the Cistercian Monastery of Mellaray, in Brittany. He resigned from Vickers, and put his personal affairs in order. The two homes both had energetic and reliable Committees; the Cheshire Foundation was firmly established.

However, after careful thought and prayer, and discussions with his priestly friends and advisers, he was convinced that his true vocation lay in the world, helping to relieve suffering and misery. There too, he could work for God.

THE THIRD HOME

Cheshire was soon in trouble with the committee about some of the patients he was introducing to St. Teresa’s. Frank, a schizophrenic, and Michael Gibson, an epileptic, were out of place among the chronically sick, and caused a lot of trouble.

Cheshire solved the problem in typical fashion- he started another home a few hundred yards from St. Teresa’s, for people whose problems were other than physical. And so “Holy Cross,” the third Cheshire home, came into existence.

THE BREAKDOWN

Cheshire had been driving himself unmercifully for years; it is no wonder that his rather frail body finally rebelled. In June, 1952, he joined a group of Catholic Missionary priests in a long and exhausting mission through Cornwall. At the same time he was working hard founding Holy Cross, and consolidating St. Teresa’s. At the end of August his health broke down.

Father Frank Ripley suspected T.B., and took him to a Sanatorium, X-rays showed that Cheshire was dreadfully ill with T.B., one lung was already damaged beyond repair. For years, perhaps forever, Cheshire’s career was ended. Yet he accepted the news quite calmly, without flinching or complaining- indeed with the famous Cheshire smile.

SICKNESS NO BAR

Even during his illness (and he was very sick indeed), the work continued. Cheshire’s room in the sanatorium looked more like an office than a sick-room. His fourth home was founded, quite literally, from his sick-bed.

Once more he showed that he had not lost that magical leadership, which had made men ready to follow him to the very gates of hell during the war, by inspiring some casual visitors, the Worthingtons, to begin a new home in Kent- St. Cecilia’s.

The long, enforced rest had made Cheshire more than ever conscious of religion as the supremely important factor in man’s life. Good works, even the care of the sick and homeless, were useless unless they brought helper and helped closer to God. To get this message to the people of England he equipped an old Bedford bus he had been given as a mission unit. It was set up to show a series of tableaux; Advent, Lent, the Nativity, Easter, and the Holy Shroud of Turin. A loudspeaker unit broadcast Church music, and tape-recordings made by the sick Cheshire about the Christian message of salvation. This work still continues, and has had great success.

THE CHESHIRE HOMES OVERSEAS

The work in England continues to expand, much of it being done by the dedicated followers that Cheshire attracted to his side. There were three new homes established in 1955; one the following year; then five; two; five again, and no fewer than twelve in 1961. By the end of 1963 there were thirty-five homes in England.

But more and more Cheshire’s thoughts were turning overseas, to Asia and Africa, where he knew that the need was more urgent. He arrived in India in December, 1955, and founded a home immediately in the jungle outside Bombay. The “home” consisted of an asbestos cement hut without a roof- the roof could come later, Cheshire explained to a visitor. Within a few weeks Cheshire had some volunteer helpers, several patients, and a roof; obviously it was time to hand over the work to someone else, and move on. In 1956, he founded houses in Bengal, in Uttar Pradesh, in Southern India, Bihar, and New Delhi. The foundations were, in most cases, made in the same way as that in Bombay- with no money, and in dire poverty.

THE SINGAPORE FOUNDATION

Typical was the foundation of the Home in Singapore. His cousin Pamela Hickley persuaded Cheshire to come across from India for this work. As he was leaving India someone asked him if he had any money. “Oh yes,” he replied; “I have a little here.” He put his hand in his pocket, and pulled out three rupees—about six shillings.

The situation in Singapore was quite impossible. It was the eve of independence; there was serious rioting; the City was fearfully overcrowded, and property values extremely high. Eventually Cheshire found an abandoned, roofless, ruined army hut near Changhi beach. The British Government demanded £600 a year rent; a staggering figure for a group that had three rupees, but the Singapore Committee decided to go ahead anyhow.

Then suddenly all the obstacles seemed to crumble away. Phil Loneragan, the Australian girl, one of Cheshire’s top trouble shooters and administrators, arrived to take charge of the organization side. The Malayan Government bought the site from the British and gave it to Cheshire of a rent of a dollar a year. Volunteer workers from The Royal Air Force, Rotary and similar organizations, even the Changhi gaol, appeared as if by magic. Within six months a 14 bed home had been built without a single penny being spent for labour.

Was it sheer luck, sheer coincidence- or was the hand of God present? Cheshire, anyhow, had no doubts on the subject.

LEPER COLONY

The house at Kapadi in Southern India was for lepers who had been cured, but were so disfigured by the disease that they found it very difficult to find a place in normal society. Perhaps it is not quite accurate to call it a house; it was really half a house, with tenants in the other half!

The villagers were afraid and suspicious at first, but gradually realized that there was no danger of infection, and accepted the former lepers. One of the first helpers was the Australian girl Phil Loneragan, who had done sterling work on the organizational side in India. The project proves that half a house can be a home, for Cheshire himself has always said that it is the happiest of all his homes.

“RAPHAEL”

In the years that followed the work steadily expanded. Homes were built in Malaya, Jordan, Eire, Hong Kong, Sierra Leone, Morocco, Ethiopia, Nigeria, and so on. Each of these foundations is a story in itself- a story of selfless, cheerful dedication on the part of many people of different colours and different religions, united in their common love for suffering humanity and their determination to do their bit, however small, to bring hope into the lives of the hopeless.

The most important of these foundations was that of “Raphael,” at Dehra Dun in India. Here Cheshire met and married Sue Ryder. Like Cheshire, Sue has dedicated her life to the relief of suffering, and is internationally known for her work in Europe for the victims of Nazi tyranny. She created the Forgotten Allies Trust, and founded 20 or 30 homes throughout Europe to care for these unfortunate people.

“Raphael” was unusual in that Cheshire deliberately kept it under his own direct control, instead of handing it over to a committee, as was his usual practice, While the committees did wonderful work, they did not always see eye to eye with Cheshire, and often restricted him in his plans. At “Raphael” he hoped to train a group of people who would understand his aims and methods, and be able to go anywhere in the world putting them into practice. It was peculiar, too, in having many branches, including backward children and lepers. It is really a group of homes rather than a single home.

AUSTRALIA HELPS

Australia has played an important part in the work of “Raphael.” Pamela Breslin of Brisbane was a qualified teacher of the deaf and dumb when she heard Leonard Cheshire speak, and promised two years work for “Raphael”- and for God. She paid her own fare across to India, and laid the foundations of a school which was soon the pride of “Raphael.” She is still remembered with love by the children for whom she did so much.

Josephine Collins and Barbara Coleman both came in contact with “Raphael” through their Jesuit brothers, who were Missionary priests at Hazaribagh in India. (Father James Collins, S.J., has since been killed in a car accident in India). Barbara worked as a Secretary, Josephine assisted with the care of the mentally retarded children. Josephine is now the Secretary of the Victorian Branch of the Ryder-Cheshire Foundation.

At present two Australian girls, both nurses, are working at Dehra Dar; Anne Young of Sydney, and Christine Steers of Adelaide.

Scarcely less important is the financial help that Australia has contributed. Leonard Cheshire’s visit to Australia in May, 1964, has led to the formation of enthusiastic support groups in Sydney, Lithgow, Melbourne, Coleraine, Ballarat, Geelong, and Pentridge prison. In the last 12 months Victoria and N.S.W. have each raised about £5,000. The Apex Club has given strong support, and is now raising the money for “Apex House,” a hostel for the overseas staff at “Raphael.”

PENTRIDGE PRISON

Their own misfortunes have not blinded the prisoners in Pentridge of the needs of others. They have given enthusiastic support to “Raphael”- including the adoption of a leper family.

The adoption scheme has had strong appeal. It enables leprosy patients, mentally retarded and destitute children, to be adopted by a person or a group. Details of the adoptee are supplied, so a personal interest can be taken. Victorians have adopted 68 already, at a cost of £35 to £50 a year, depending on the nature of the case.

CHARITY—THE PATH TO GOD

Cheshire’s path to God was through Charity. Each act of self-sacrificing love was a step towards God. The first step was the founding of his home for ex-servicemen; within a year, Cheshire had recovered his lost faith in God; Cheshire found what so many others have found—we cannot help others without coming closer to Christ, without ourselves becoming more like Christ. And Cheshire has surely modelled himself on Christ. Ian Johnson, the Australian cricketer, wrote of him:

“He possesses all those qualities we have been taught that Christ possessed. He has that serene, benign expression. He is a person who is humble yet proud, gentle yet resolute, persuasive yet not possessive.”

CHARITY—THE DRIVING FORCE

Charity is also the secret of the dynamic energy of Cheshire. “The charity of Christ presses us on” wrote St. Paul, and, surely they are words that could be applied to Cheshire.

After the war he felt strongly his brotherhood with the men who had stood shoulder to shoulder with him in the titanic struggle. But as a Christian his charity needed to be as all-embracing as that of Christ. His Cheshire Homes are not restricted to any group, or nation, or colour or creed. Need and suffering are the only tickets of admission that Cheshire demands. Wherever there is pain and misery, he feels himself involved.

WHAT OF US?

We cannot read the life of a man like Cheshire without doing some soul searching. Most of us look but little outside of ourselves. We are too busy looking after our own interests; building our own little home, our own little world, from which we deliberately exclude the harsh realities of the world around us.

If we hear about an incurable T.B. case, we give a cluck of sympathy, shake our heads and then turn back to the real business of our lives—looking after ourselves. If we read about famine in India, or disease in the Pacific Islands, we feel we have fulfilled all our obligations if we give 10/—to the Freedom from Hunger Campaign. Or perhaps we don’t even do that.

We don’t want to become involved with others; it will make too many demands on our time, too many demands on our love. But we are involved with our fellowmen, because we are all brothers in Christ. We can only isolate ourselves from others, live in our own little world, at the risk of being eternally isolated from Christ.

SEEING THE NEED

Cheshire has always been intensely sensitive to the needs of others. If he saw others in trouble, his first reaction, perhaps, was rather like ours: “Why doesn’t someone do something?” When he became conscious of the plight of exservicemen in 1946, for example, he began agitating for the Government “to do something.”

Most of us go no further- and so often nothing is ever done. But Cheshire is different; if nobody else will act, he will. We can easily laugh at his first, fumbling efforts with the ill-fated V.I.P. scheme- but he was one of the few men in England who tried to do something.

It was the same when he began his nursing homes. He saw a need- he saw a dying man, for whom the Hospital could no nothing, who had no home. And he gave him a home. From such small beginnings came “one of the greatest acts of humanity of all time.” There were plenty ready to warn him off—it was not his responsibility; he did not have any experience in nursing; the problem was so vast it was ridiculous for him to try to tackle it; and so on.

SMALL BEGINNINGS

One of the greatest lessons we can learn from Cheshire is that anything we can do, however tiny, is of value. Cheshire’s own experience taught him over and over again that great works spring from humble beginnings. One of his principles has always been to accept any help that is offered- however valueless such help might be from a material point of view. For the person who is helping others is asserting the brotherhood of man, and becoming more conscious of the Fatherhood of God. And so often the first tentative offer of help, if eagerly received, leads on to ever more generous sacrifices.

So often we become conscious of some problem; but we are daunted by its magnitude. We read of the great increase in juvenile delinquency, and feel helpless before the problem. Yet we can assist by letting Tommy Jones and Bill Smith play in our backyard, instead of in the street.

Or we see an article about the grave problems associated with the assimilation of migrants into the Australian community. It is, we feel, far beyond such unimportant persons as us. Yet as far as we are concerned the problem might only be a few houses away, where Mrs. Buongiorno has recently arrived from Italy. We can help solve it by calling and wishing her welcome, and asking how we can help.

Or again, we hear of the problems of broken homes and broken marriages, and especially of the heartbreak involved for the children. Do we ever stop to think that we can do something for those children. That we need only lift the phone and dial the local orphanage, and we can bring happiness and a home for some short time at least, to some lonely heart.

Perhaps we could consider volunteering to work on some mission in Asia for a year or two. Our own particular trade or experience could be used to advantage.

To the person sensitive to the needs of others, and eager to help, there is always plenty to do. Once we start, we soon find more and more avenues of help. This is the very essence of Christianity; this is what Christ is asking of each one of us.

Nihil Obstat:

D. P. MURPHY, Diocesan Censor.

Imprimatur:

@ JUSTIN D. SIMONDS, Archbishop of Melbourne. 28th October, 1965.

********

Childlike Or Childish

THE FAITH OF A MODERN CATHOLIC

D. G. M. JACKSON

INDEX

To begin with, let us consider two texts of the New Testament. The first is our Lord’s own word: “Except ye be converted and become as little children, ye shall not enter the. Kingdom of Heaven.” The second is from the great apostle, St. Paul: “When I was a child, I thought as a child and understood as a child: but when I became a man, I put away childish things . . .

Now, what are we going to make of this? Jesus Christ Himself says we are to be like children: and He returns to His theme more than once. You remember His strong rebuke to the disciples who wanted to keep the youngsters away from Him, ending up with, “Of such is the Kingdom of Heaven”? And the special curse He had .f or those who corrupted the little ones? As for the Apostle-it’s true that his immediate purpose is to show how God’s revelation widened out into the “fulfilment of the Law” in the Gospel when the hour was ripe. Still, it’s clear enough, in his own writings, that he had a grasp of the Faith that was far from being simple in any “childish” sense. He was a great theologian and a subtle thinker and debater, thoroughly adult in his intelligence and imagination and emotion in the things of the spirit. And, of course, he was only the first of a long line of saintly doctors who were also brilliant philosophers and masters of a vast variety of knowledge; It seems absurd to speak of the wise Faith of such men as St. Irenaeus, Origen, St. Augustine or St. Thomas Aquinas-to name only a few-as being that of “a child.” The Church has always encouraged the development of adult learning and intelligence in her children, and she has seen the need of using human minds as well as hearts in order to penetrate deeper into the mysteries of God’s revelation to man.

Has she been wrong in this-as some Protestant critics hold -and falsified the “Simple Faith” of the Gospel by the so- phistications of the learned? And if she is right, how is the word of Christ about His followers being “childlike” to be re- conciled with the development of adult intelligence in regard to the truths of Faith? Well-if we look into things a little, I think we shall find, not only that the seeming contradiction between “childlike” and “adult” fades away, but also that actually an educated man cannot retain the “childlike” faith which Christ wants, unless he “puts away childish things” and becomes a Christian with a properly “grown up” approach to the realities of man’s nature and destiny, as taught by the Church.

THE FADING VISION

From the first, the teaching Church has understood that when Our Lord spoke as He did about little children, He was praising certain features which are normal in the very young, but which we tend to lose as we pass into adult life. There is a personal sweetness and innocence, lost later through the sin that distorts and hardens the character. There is the simplicity of faith which the child places in his parents and those who care for him-an image of the undoubting confidence which the believer ought to have in his Divine Father. And then, there are the quick joys in life of the child- his passionate clinging tenderness to those he loves-his swiftness in sorrow for his small faults, and his readiness to forgive and forget the offences of his companions-his natural sincerity, humility, and readiness to learn. It isn’t difficult to see, is it, why the good child should be selected by Christ as a “miniature,” so to speak, for the imitation of the true Christian?

But added to this, I think, there is something else, which is often missed. The normal child has a natural aptitude for the “Vision Splendid” of the Faith on his own childish level. He dwells in a world in which nature is filled with fairies and romance and magic and mystery: and he finds no difficulty in grasping the idea of the other, invisible world of which his Faith tells him-where God lives, with Our Lady and the angels and saints, all actively interested in his affairs, anxious to help him in fighting the wicked spirits who want to make trouble for him-just like the bad fairies in his nursery tales. As Wordsworth put it: “Heaven lies about us in our infancy.” The truths of religion are close, clear and vivid in our small, bright world, where nature merges easily into “Super-nature.”

The normal experience of fallen men is that this magic wonder of childhood fades as we grow older “into the light of common day.” Only a few poets, or very wise simple folk like St. Francis, Fra Angelico and G.K. Chesterton, seem to be able to retain it as part of their normal experience. “The world is too much with us”-the world of material reality, with its mechanical-seeming laws, and its cares, responsibilities, and monotonies-as we plunge into the struggle for living. Our own body weighs us down with its demands and deficiencies; so that, as we grow from childhood to adolescence, and then to manhood or womanhood, the “Shades of the prison house” close gradually round us, dulling the brightness of that first wonderful vision-how wonderful, we realise only when it has passed away.

To some extent, this is hardly to be avoided -it is part of the price our race must pay for the eating of “The fruit of that forbidden tree, whose mortal taste brought death into the world, and all our woe.”

But we have to beware lest, with the magic vision of childhood, we losealso our childhood’s firm grasp of spiritual Reality. We are in danger of doing this, if our growing intelligence is not applied to the truths of Faith as well as to the things of this world of time and space: and this is above all necessary in the age in which we now live.

THE SECULAR DELUSION AND SPIRITUAL REALITY

The world of to-day is obsessed with the delusion that the only certain Reality is that of the world of physical experience, and that anything beyond that world is mere wishful dreaming and myth-making. This view is not commonly stated in downright fashion-except by materialists-but it is implied tacitly in the secularising of our public life, in our treatment of “religious opinion” as simply a matter of private taste of no real social significance, and in the general assumption that all human problems are to be solved on the natural level, and that the “common good” is fully expressed in terms of politics, economics and social hygiene. For the typically modern community-in particular the Australian community- God is an absentee Who can, in practice, be ignored.

Even those who have been brought up as Christians, and gone to Christian schools, do not find it easy to avoid being affected by this godless scale of values in the world in which we now live-with consequences which we shall see shortly. We find, it difficult even to imagine the sort of world in which our forefathers lived only a few centuries back-a world of which remnants still exist here and there in Europe and America, though it is being rapidly overwhelmed by the tide of change.

In that society, every man and woman was made constantly aware of the Divine, spiritual pattern of Reality within which the present order of “Middle Earth” was set. It was accepted without question: its presence was assumed in the shaping of laws and institutions, in the conventions of social life, in the designing of work and recreation, and even of gossip and tales. Religion was the principal theme of artistic expression, whose main purpose was to adorn the Church and its ceremonies and festivals “to the glory of God.” The streets and houses were filled with images, pictures and symbols to remind men of the unseen world of Faith. The chief task of the teacher-whether in schools or universities-was to form young minds through the knowledge of Christian truth and righteousness, and to train men to think clearly in those things which concerned “man’s chief end” as God’s creature. The crown of the “Sciences” was theology, towards which the seeker of wisdom ascended by way of philosophic thought.

At a time when men lived and thought like this, the adult world was able to keep, to a large extent, the spiritual “realism” which we associate today, with childhood-knitting the vision of Faith into the substance of their daily lives. The mental growth of the plain man was a harmonious process, a larger understanding of the lower world of nature being accompanied by a more intelligent grasp of the higher spiritual realities. The result was that the wisdom of the full-grown, educated Christian was “childlike” in the true sense-being, as it was, the flowering of the seed of truth contained in the vision of childish innocence.

“DWARFISH” CHRISTIANITY

The modern Christian tends to lose this “childlike” integrity and simpleness of Faith, because his religious way of thought is stunted, remaining “childish” while his secular development goes ahead. Too often, he never gets beyond the ““teen age,” or even a lower stage of mental growth, as regards his grasp of religious truth: and this causes a sort of internal disintegration which may have very grave consequences indeed. The socalled “truths of Faith” begin to look, to him, like fantastic notions belonging to a fairy-tale world.

Thus, an English headmaster of a famous Quaker school recently admitted that most of his boys of seventeen or eighteen regarded God as “a myth like Father Christmas.” And this sense of religious unreality comes inevitably to affect the moral code of the individual.

The Christian commandments and sanctions may come to seem a primitive system o f “taboos,” some of which are flatly against nature or common sense, reinforced by an iron penal code of damnation which revolts his sense of justice.

The personal picture of God which he has formed in childhood has become hopelessly inadequate from the point of view of his mature mind. His childish idea of the Fall of Man and the Atonement now appears fantastic, with its paraphernalia of a magical garden, winged and haloed celestial fairies with swords, wicked demons and so forth. All this seems hopelessly unrelated to the “real life” of his daily thinking and experience: and the same is true of the traditional ceremonies of the Church-its network of sacrament and sacramental through which he receives an imperceptible gift called “grace.”

He may be aware, vaguely, that the “scientific” objections against Faith are not conclusive: but, if he knows anything about the universe and its story, as presented in the light of modern research, he may well have an uncomfortable sense that this “open Universe” where his own world rolls, infinitesimally tiny, in the light of a million million suns, is somehow inconsistent with the world-picture presented by his Religion, as he knows it. The account of a planetary evolution, stretching back through uncounted aeons, does not fit in at all well with the story of Creation in Genesis, as he recalls it from his schooldays.

THE DANGER OF DISINTEGRATION

All this, to be sure, need not mean that the man will lose his Faith. The power of Divine Grace will not fail him, while he frequents the Sacraments, and makes a real attempt to keep contact with God through prayer. And-even in the natural order-the hold of a traditional system of belief and conduct, imbibed in childhood and reinforced by vivid and affectionate memories of home and school, is very strong indeed. If the adult is busy, or not much given to reflection on matters outside his daily round of activities, he may seldom or never be troubled by the problem of reconciling the faith of his childhood with the world-view of his grown-up life in this modern age. Even so, his social conduct as a Christian is almost inevitably affected by the fact that his religion and everyday life are in separate compartments, and at different stages of development. He will tend to accept secular standards and views without thinking, to adopt a secular outlook on public affairs, and to find it irritating when the Church “interferes” in matters of business or political life, or makes per- sonal claims upon him which he finds socially inconvenient. The Catholic Faith is the system to which he adheres; he observes his religious obligations with formal loyalty, and has no thought of abandoning them. But he has no vital interest in “that side” of his life-it is the lesser, static section of it, while his heart and mind are bent on secular concerns. Instinctively, such a man assimilates his colour, like a chameleon, to the background of the paganised life of our time, and avoids allowing his Faith to become apparent. He slides out of discussions into which religion may enter, both because he doesn’t want to be “compromised,” and because he is aware that he may appear foolish-because he doesn’t “know the answers”- and that criticism may stab him in a deadly fashion. The treasure of Faith remains hidden in his breast: but it has not been “inwardly digested” into his life-it is not growing with him, and radiating its light and power by his means. To hold it, as the man held the talent in the parable, by burying it-that is all his thought. The idea of the apostolate, as a personal duty applying to himself, has never seriously entered his head.

“I GREW OUT OF IT.”

It is very common for a man who has “lost his Faith” or apostatised in young manhood, to claim that he “grew out of all that nonsense” when he came to understand the world as it is: and to add that no one who thinks for himself can possibly “swallow” the baby-stuff which the priests “put across.” The Bible, he points out, is filled with legendary tales which “science” has discredited; the idea of the Fall and Redemption is not only intellectually absurd, but morally repulsive: immortality is “wishful thinking,” and miracles just don’t happen.

With good reason, experienced priests distrust those who claim that they have seen through” the b eliefs of their childhood, and abandoned them on “rational” or “scientific” grounds. They are almost always able to show that revolt against the Christian moral law, or the Commandments of the Church, has played a large part in the process which has resulted in the repudiation of Faith.

Some habit of sin is formed and grows strong: the thing is concealed in confession and festers, until its corruption spreads from the heart to the mind. Or perhaps the struggle centres round loyalty to the Church’s laws regarding sexual relationships: there is a “marriage outside,” or an illicit liaison with the accompanying “will to freedom”-and the abrupt breaking of “ecclesiastical shackles” follows. A mixed marriage, with its gradual numbing effect on a Faith unshared by the partner, which is a cause of misunderstanding and inconvenience, may lead, ultimately, to a complete falling away from religious belief as well as religious practice. Finally, there is the yielding, among Catholics, to the temptation of contraception.

The same change may take place, of course, simply through the slow corruption of Christian thought and manners by the infection of a non-Catholic and anti-Catholic atmosphere. The Church is disobeyed- then abandoned as making “impossible demands”; finally an attitude of hostility is adopted, and rounds for disbelief are readily rasped, by way of self-justification.

THE GARBAGE HEAP

In all the cases listed here, the immediate cause of apostasy has been a collapse in face of moral temptation. That, however, is not the whole of the story. The inadequate, “childish” grasp of Catholic truth of those concerned often has very much indeed to do with these tragedies. The Faith has been held as a strange, arbitrary collection of beliefs and regulations unrelated to any vital experience of “reality.” The practice of religion has been habitual-a duty fulfilled with no strong sense of personal conviction. The “loyalty” is often to the tradition of a particular human group, rather than to the Divine Person of Our Lord, as revealed through His Church. From time to time, perhaps, “difficulties” have cropped up. Some objection raised casually in conversation, some argument seen in a book, have lodged themselves and remained at the back of the mind. No further inquiry has been made, through lack of any strong interest-resulting from the stunted condition of the religious intelligence generally. So the thing remains, like germ-laden garbage dumped in a corner.

In due course, the hour comes when there is some cherished sin upon which the soul is set -to which it clings, in defiance of the Church’s law. In that hour, the remnant of “garbage” ignored hitherto suddenly becomes of interest and importance: for by picking it over, the rebel may find some pretext which he can use to make his treason appear more respectable to himself and the world. What has taken place can now be explained away without reference to his moral weaknesses or worldly interests. He has found that his “inquiring mind” cannot remain within the narrow limits of the Faith. He has realised that its dogmas are irreconcilable with Science, or Modern Thought, or even with a really noble perception of Spiritual Truth. Indeed, once it is assaulted in a spirit of hostile criticism, the childish structure of his personal religious belief is such that he can find cracks and holes in every part of it, upon which to use the destroying hammer. It is not long before it lies in ruins, and he can build a new “design for living” to meet his own “needs”-that is, his personal desires and convenience.

THE MAN WHO KNOWS

Let us consider, now, the case of the truly “adult” Catholic, whose understanding of the Faith has grown with his growth, so that it has remained the centre of his “real world.” This lively personal Faith may not keep him from grave sins of pride, or passion or greed: he may drift, even, into a state of outlawry through his refusal to obey the Church’s laws, or to sacrifice his self-will—or through sheer sloth and inertia. But the final, ruinous step of apostasy is one which he will find it less easy to take- or to justify to himself by false reasonings.

He knows something of the strength and coherence of the mighty system of Catholic Truth; he is aware of how wonderfully its solutions answer the mysterious paradoxes of our human nature and destiny- how completely its discipline, imposed by Love, satisfies the need of each individual, helping him towards his special type of fulfilment. He can’t be fooled by parrot-phrases about an “Anthropomorphic” God made in man’s image, or worried by the thunders of the halfbaked about the “cruelty”“ or ““monstrous self-assertion”“ of the Christian’s Divine Father. His developed Faith is untouched by the mockery and criticism which riddles mere “nursery” notions about the soul, the way of Redemption and the life of the world to come. He is able to see how enormously strong is the evidence for the Divinity of the Saviour, who rose from the dead- and therefore for the truth of His message. He perceives Church “dogmas” not in isolation, as credible or incredible, inspiring or repugnant, but in relation to the whole system of revealed Reality, in which they are embraced: and he knows how impregnable is this system, with its mystery and miracle, to scientific as well as philosophic and moral attacks.

There are times when such a man may feel his faith to be an intolerable burden and affliction -when his whole soul is shaken by the temptation to revolt against the Divine Reality because of some passionate desire, or to escape from the obligations which its acknowledgment imposes. He may, indeed, sin and blaspheme against the known Truth-”living in sin” until, perhaps, the Light of God fades out of his mind as well as his soul. But at least, his treasure of Faith is not at the mercy of the first serious assault of malice and perverse folly, because of an infantile weakness of understanding. And the odds are overwhelmingly strong that a man who has taken the pains to acquire adult wisdom in the things of God will not be finally lost-that the “Hound of Heaven” will overhaul the quarry when he is worn out with running.

SHOWING FORTH THE FAITH

So much, then, for this first point- that to be secure, one’s Faith should be personally grasped and developed by a personal effort in self-education, so as to counteract the effect of a world-atmosphere which tends to drug and destroy the sense of spiritual realities. It must not get “left behind” in one’s growth, until it becomes a relic of childhood, a traditional heirloom, disconnected with the rest of a life dominated by secular interests and ideals. Otherwise, it is quite likely that a time may come when the particular piece of “old furniture” appears ill-matched, inconvenient and rather silly, and is cast out of doors on some easy pretext.

But looking after his personal Faith properly, as a growing central thing in his life, is only the beginning of the Catholic layman’s duty in the world of our time. He has also the obligation of the Apostolate-which falls, to some degree, upon all Christian men and women. “Each one,” says St. Thomas Aquinas, “is bound to show forth his Faith, either to instruct and encourage others of the faithful, or to repel the attacks of unbelievers.” Pope Leo XIII, quoting this passage, adds that “to recoil before an enemy, or to keep silence when, from all sides, such clamours are raised against truth, is the part of a man who is either devoid of character, or who entertains doubts as to the truth of which he professes to believe. In both cases, such a fashion of behaving is base and insulting to God, and both are incompatible with the salvation of mankind. This kind of conduct is profitable only to the enemies of the Faith, for nothing emboldens the wicked so greatly as the lack of courage on the part of the good.”

ARGUMENT IS USEFUL

Our “lack of courage” in this respect is in shameful contrast with the aggressive boldness of Communist zealots. These men raise their “sign of contradiction” for battle on all possible occasions: they push their beliefs down everyone’s throats, grasping every pretext which can be made to serve a propagandist purpose. It is ridiculous to pretend that this tactic has not been successful. Many, no doubt, have been irritated or amused-some moved to strong anger: but there has been a steady, swelling stream of converts to Communism, while others have been infected with Communist sympathies, or with ways of thought about public affairs which are useful to the revolutionaries. The seed is sown broadcast, and a lot of it strikes root in the friendly soil of our de-Christianised community.

Yet, in face of the success of the enemy, we Catholic lay folk persist in shirking the use of a method obviously valuable-taking refuge in the dictum that “no one is ever converted by argument.” That word-battles can be mere sound and fury, achieving nothing, is sufficiently obvious-but it is no less certain that people’s minds can be and are affected by hearing a sincere and competent exposition of some disputed point of Faith; or by a general defence of Christianity by a man of intelligence and good humour; or, again, by a clear explanation of the Catholic viewpoint on the vital human problems of presentday social life. It isn’t only a question of converting people outright, but of “changing the atmosphere” by breaking down prejudices and dispelling illusions about what the Church teaches and stands for. Even if your hearer is not drawn to accept the full Faith, he may revise his creed and code so as to bring it somewhat nearer to the Truth-so that the Light and Love of God may be increased in him by your means.

This is a very great gain, for the great difficulty, in all Catholic apostolic work among non-Catholics, is to get rid of a fear and illwill due to idiotic “bogey-ideas” about our religion which are based on a misunderstanding of what it really teaches, and “bogey-stories” about our history, which are based on the “black legend” of an unscrupulous hostile propa- ganda, handed on down nearly four centuries.

AN “ESCAPE -CLAUSE” FOR QUITTERS

The popular slogan about the ineffectiveness of argument is, in fact, an “escapeclause” for those unwilling to un- dertake the lay apostolate for other, very human reasons. They are shy and lacking in self-confidence-or is it “God-confidence”? They are afraid that if they “trail their coat” as Catholics they will become socially unpopular, or suffer in their business or professional life. Finally, they are fearful-with some reason- of doing no good, but incurring contempt and ridicule for themselves and their Religion, because their knowledge of the Faith is inadequate and ill-digested, and they cannot answer even quite commonplace criticisms against it. In this last fear, indeed, they may be very wise, since the mentally ill-armed believer may not only fail to win his fight, but may receive dangerous thrusts himself, if he tackles a clever opponent rashly.

There ar e cases when “sheltering” one’s Faith by a strategic retreat is a wise policy for most of us: and there are occa- sions, too, when apostolic speech is merely a “casting of pearls before swine,” since we are up against bitter ill-will, or impenetrable dullness or mere frivolity. But we have no business to keep our personal Religion in such a state that it cannot appear in everyday discussion with men on our own level of general culture. It is high time that we began making ourselves competent for our apostolic vocation, by working upon the sort of religious topics which are liable, at any moment, to be thrown up in conversation with our fellow-men-at work, or in the train, the club or the pub, or in social parties at home.

GOD -AND CHILDISH IMAGES

To begin with-how do I think about God? “I believe in God, Creator of Heaven and Earth.” . . . Excellent-but can I give rational grounds for my Theism, If it is challenged by another fellow who has just proclaimed himself an Atheist-or dare I challenge him to justify his false opinion? Have I got a grasp of the argument from Motion, or from the Chain of Causes, or from the Design of the Universe, so that I can set them forth simply and understandably to another plain man? If not-wouldn’t it be a good idea to start on a simple course of apologetics, with the help of a few. . . . pamphlets or books? What about getting a word of advice from my parish priest on the subject?

And the chances are that, while I”m “fishing” for information about this, I shall find out a lo t of other things which will help to broaden and deepen my own conception of God. I shall find out that I have been thinking, in the past, in terms of childish images, and that a lot of my own and other people’s difficulties are due to misunderstandings due to this sort of thinking.

I had the picture of a giant Being, with a sort of human intelligence and will. He had created the universe like a man makes a clock, and then “wound it up,” and was now watching it-and me. He had made a lot of rules which I”d got to observe or else! But, on the other hand, He’d be very good to me if I behaved properly, and treated Him with due respect to His “Heavenly Majesty.” Then, as I grew up, I found out how enormous the Universe was, and I began to wonder why its Maker should worry particularly about a world like a grain of sand in His sight so as to “give His only Begotten Son,” and be interested in the baptism of children, or whether people went to Mass on Sundays, and kept the proper code in dealing with their girl-friends. . . . He seemed a little sort of God for such a big Universe.

And then, it wasn’t easy to “love” Him at times- as I understood love. His anger seemed arbitrary, and His punishments were pretty awful: Hell-fire and tortures and living with Devils-and all, perhaps, for something which most people wouldn’t think serious at all. Still, I”d got to “love” Him, hadn’t I . . . or else! And, of course, Our Lord Jesus Christ made it all a good deal easier in practice.

THE REAL GOD OF CATHOLICISM

But, once Ilook into things, I find that I”ve been the victim of misunderstandings due to childish ignorance. First of all, the “personal” God of St. Thomas and St. Augustine is not a soft of Giant Superman-though we all tend to imagine Him in that way, because theonly “persona” we know are human. It doesn’t make things any easier to say He’s an Impersonal Mind. It sounds lovely and mysterious and intelligent, to be sure-but the minds that we know are just persons thinking. In the world we know, you can no more have a mind without a personal thinker than a Cheshire cat’s grin without the Cheshire cat. The “impersonal” beings we know-vegetables and stones and animals-are sub-human, not superhuman. It is clear, then, that God, far from being “impersonal,” must be a lot more “personal” than we are ourselves. That’s commonsense, anyway, since all the personal beings that exist came from Him-and “no one gives what He hasn’t got.” But it has nothing whatever to do with looking upon God as being “like a man” in any belittling sense.

Again, the bogey about the size of the universe fades away when I find that ma terial “Size” has simply “nothing to do with the case”-that “big” and “little” don’t mean anything when you’re talking about the Spiritual order. God is “Im- mense” in His Power and Reality, but not in any sense that is related to our physical idea of the gigantic. And when we talk of His “paying attention” to the world, once again we are thinking in terms of human limitation, which simply don’t apply. God hasn’t any one particular “centre of interest” in the created world. He is completely and entirely present everywhere in the atom and the “flower in the crannied wall” as well as in the inconceivable vastness of the starry uni- verse. His Love acts upon the world, and me, and each human being in every age, as completely as though no other object for His care existed. How He has dealt with other worlds of life-if there are such worlds-we don’t know. But this much we do know: that if His Word were incarnate a hundred thousand times elsewhere, the unique perfection of the Divine Gift to our own planet and the race of man would not thereby be diminished.

Then, as to His “rules,” and His “Anger” and punishment- I begin to see that I am not up against a sort of arbitrary code of celestial byelaws. A certain pattern of conduct is required of my created Nature, if I”m to get the best out of it and “fulfil my destiny”: and, if I violate that pattern grossly and persistently, I shall suffer the natural consequences-just as I should, on a lower level, through the disregard of physical laws of health and life. God has left me free to choose whether I will observe the pattern in both spheres-because the highest purpose of His creative work was to make beings who might give themselves voluntarily to His love, and so attain their perfection. It is this mystery of Freedom-which every thinking human being must prize-which necessarily involves the possibility of final disaster through its misuse: that is, of Hell.

WHAT IS HELL?

“The Anger of God” is the apparent effect of sin as seen from my side: in that sense, it is real enough. But it is I who have reddened and darkened the Sun of Love which “enlightens every man,” by placing a veil between It and myself. I can fix myself in that situation, if I choose, by rejecting Him finally, and refusing to obey the law of Life. I shall lose His Love then-not because it has ceased to flow out towards me, but because I have set a barrier against it which His gift of freedom renders impassable, except by my will. And my own revolt, making obedient Nature itself my enemy, engenders the dark infernal fire to add to my self-inflicted torment. Thus, my will can achieve my ruin, in God’s despite, rendering me a fit companion only for the rebel spirits who hate Him, themselves, and one another.

Thus, I find an answer to my problems about Faith in God, not by rejecting the simple beliefs of my childhood as folly and fairy-tales, but by sloughing off my childish images and ways of thought, and deepening my understanding of those beliefs. The deep mysteries remain-but the discomforting sense that the whole thing is too small, and artificial and arbitrary, has disappeared. I have enlarged my grasp to the measure of my grown mind-and I begin to find the truths of Faith “real” and solemn and wonderful again, as they were in my childhood.

Soon I reach the stage when these studies become not merely an affair of duty, but a fascinating quest. My eagerness grows, as one problem after another crops up-presented by others or thrusting up from my own awakened mind.

FALL -REDEMPTION-RESURRECTION

I begin to see that the story of Eden isn’t infantile-as it once appeared-but enormously tragic: and enlightening, too, as regards the living world of men, where you can see everywhere the effects of that ancient revolt, in the “Law of Death” and frustration which overshadows the destiny of our race. I find that the Mystery of the Redemption can be presented so that it no longer looks like a queer device of God’s for correcting His own miscalculation about man by a sort of “legal fiction.”

The Resurrection of the Body is no longer a fantastic “extra” added to immortality, but a restoration inevitable to the completion of God’s plan for men, who are live body-souls, not angelic spirits dwelling in physical machines.

SCIENCE -AND THE LIGHT OF THE WORLD

I learn more of the true relation of Faith to Science, so that I am no longer tormented by the phantom-fear of their being “irreconcilable.” I find that very many of the “difficulties” of Scripture are very old difficulties indeed, and were the subject of attention by wise Christian thinkers ages before they were “discovered” by secularist and modernist critics. The Old Testament “crudities” appear very differently, once I have grasped the idea of God’s gradual self-revelation to a childish, barbaric race which had to be moulded and prepared, step by step, so as to fulfil its part in the Divine scheme of Redemption.

I come to realise, too, that belief in one Faith and one Revelation through Christ does not forbid me to recognise the Divine “Light that enlighteneth every man”-the Light which appears, dimly and imperfectly, in the pagan’s service of his gods, in the Moslem’s worship of Allah, in the Confucian’s veneration of the “Law of Heaven”: and more strongly and powerfully in the faith and love of true-hearted Christian dissidents. I see how all that is true and good and lovely in these defective systems is embraced in the Catholic Church “outside which there is no salvation”-the Church in whose hidden life of grace the “Baptism of Desire” may enable many true lovers of God to share, even though they may never learn, on earth, the Name of their Divine Saviour.

And, meanwhile, I am learning of the mighty work of my Faith in the making of our Western civilisation, and of the wisdom she still has to offer to the rebel modern world. I see how her “social teachings” and their practical applications grow out of the deep truths which God has revealed about human nature and its needs: and 1 realise, ever more clearly, the idiocy of the “secularism” which tries to build the city of man without regard to the supreme Rock of Reality, God, “in Whom we live and move.”

The Lost Vision Returns.

By this building of our Catholic culture, and by training ourselves for the lay apostolate, we shall not only grow in Christian wisdom-but also in Divine grace. We shall find that our love of God grows with our knowledge-and our humility, too, as we perceive the wondrous depth of the well of His mysteries, to which we bring our tiny vessels for the Water of Life. Like Augustine, we shall cry, “too late have I loved Thee, OThou Ancient Beauty”:

And as we kneel, amid a creation filled with strange splendour, alive with the glory of Angels-we shall find that something of the lost vision of childhood has returned to us, as to the Magi who worshipped at Bethlehem.

“Shepherds and sages Met at the tryst: Wisdom and innocence. Meet in Christ.”

Nihil obstat:

WILLIAM M. COLLINS, D.D., Ph.D., B.A. Censor Deputatus.

Imprimatur:

@ DANIEL MANNIX,

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis.

********

Christ And His Church

THESE TWO ARE ONE

BY REV. DANIEL A. LORD, S.J

INDEX

ACCEPT CHRIST, YOU MUST ACCEPT THE CHURCH

“Of course, like any man of even limited intelligence. I admire and respect Jesus Christ. I could almost wish I were one of His disciples. But, and you’ll forgive me for saying it, I cordially dislike the Catholic Church.”

Ford Osborne had laid aside his professionally humorous mood. He spoke almost grimly. And his sentences were rock hard as he flung then out into the little group of which Helen Webb was a sympathetic second. She sat back now, with a hardly perceptible sigh. And her eyes swung quickly to the third member of the group. But Father Hall far from rising in his wrath to smite the “insulter of his faith” (as she feared he might do), simply knocked the cold ash from his pipe, filled it in leisurely fashion, and leaned over and rang a little hand-bell on his small table.

ICE FOR THREE

In the doorway popped Molly, his housekeeper. Molly was to the people of Lakeside more an institution than a person.

But as an institution she served Father Hall and his infrequent guests with delightful relish.

“It’s hot in here,” said Father Hall to his ancient house-keeper. “I think we should all like something with ice on it.

Perhaps your New York visitors would like something more than ice?”

He looked from Helen to Ford and back.

“Molly can undoubtedly find you something to make a julep with, if you’d like a julep.”

“A julep?” Ford Osborne almost leaped with joy. “If I may mix my figures, Father, that would be heaping coals of fire.” “Bring us two long, tall, mint juleps, Molly,” said Father Hall. “And bring me an iced coffee, my own particular strength. And frost on all three glasses, please.”

SPIRITUAL BROMIDES

As the housekeeper disappeared, Father Hall turned back

to his guests.

“Your remark, my dear Ford, was intelligible, but  stupid. I understand people who say that religious bromide, but I wish they knew more about Christ and His Church,”

“Thanks!” replied Osborne, a bit ruefully. “It isn’t often that I”m told frankly that I”m stupid and talk in bromides.” ““No,” commented Helen, “your friends are usually more merciful than truthful.”

“Young lady,” said Osborne, sternly, “remember you are depending on me for your lift back to Manhattan.” “Am I? Not while there’s still hitch-hiking, and I can waggle a thumb.”

They all laughed, and settled back in the comfortable, if venerable, chairs in the priest’s little rectory. Ever since their meeting at the Open-Mind Forum, the visits of these unusually assorted three had grown more frequent. Father Hall had come to love quite sincerely the clever Ford Osborne, whose prose humour appeared in all the smart magazines, as he had grown to feel a real affection for the bright, intelligent Helen Webb, whose verse had the real tang of Dorothy Parker’s without the latter’s cynical malice. The fact that they were professed unbelievers, with a modern slant on all things religious, proved merely stimulating to the priest, who found their objections exhilarating, and the discussions they precipitated clarifying to his own thoughts.

REALLY ONE

Now he swung back to the young man’s objections.

“You see, admiring Christ and disliking the Church is like wanting to decapitate a man because you think his face is handsome, but dislike his body. The Church is really Christ. They are head and body of one divine personality, mystical but real. You can no more say, “I love the head, Christ, but I dislike the body, the Church,” than I can say, “I think you would be vastly improved if a barbarian headsman went to work on you with major decapitation.”

“That,” replied Osborne, “is Greek to me.”

“The Greek of Saint Paul, perhaps,” the priest answered, “or the Greek of the New Testament. But it’s truth just the same.”

SILLY IDEAS

“You see, Protestantism has rather knocked all sense out of the concept of the Church as Christ established it. You think of the Church as just an organisation, like, let’s say, Harvard University, only not so smart; or the New York Central Railroad, only not quite so efficient;” or General Motors, only lacking its ability to joggle the stock market.

Or you think of it as a building where a group of more or less congenial people meet together to be emotionally entertained by a clever preacher, and to be mildly stimulated by fairish music. Or it’s an assembly of people who find that they admire the same style of church architecture and the same general type of service, and who meet, with more or less regularity. as other groups meet for bridge or lectures on art or the discussion of politics.

“Which is as far from Christ’s concept of the Church as . . .”

He fumbled about for a term for his comparison. Molly opened the door and stood balancing a tray with three frosted glasses and a generously heaped plate of cakes.

“Ah,” cried the priest, “as circus lemonade is from a rich and mellow julep. Bring them here. Molly, and brush those books off the stool.”

IDENTICAL

It was only when they sat back, Helen and Ford feeling the tang of the julep against their lips and palate, Father Hall savouring the strong brown body of his iced coffee, that he resumed.

“Let’s put it in a phrase. The Church began at the moment of Christ’s Incarnation. Or, inversely, Christ’s life on earth and His work will be ended only when the last Pope has laid aside his tiara, at the call of Gabriel’s trumpet blasting the end of the world. You cannot separate Christ and His Church. They are one.”

Ford Osborne shook his head reluctantly.

“It’s not quite cricket (whatever that means) to disagree with a man over his own inspired julep.”

“Besides,” interjected Helen, “he, poor man, is only drinking coffee, while you should talk brilliantly on alcoholic stimulant.”

“I accept without acknowledging the handicap,” said the priest.

“But,” persisted Ford, “I see no similarity whatsoever. Here’s an elaborate organisation, in place of the simple Christ. Here’s a complicated system of theology and ritual replacing the Carpenter and itinerant Preacher of Nazareth. I love-or could love, Him. I find nothing loveable or attractive-except such charming persons as yourself-in the Church. And I frankly doubt if you can show me any similarity, much less identity.”

“There,” cried Helen, almost as if she were the umpire. “is an honest challenge.”

. A light in the eyes of the priest flashed the signal that the challenge was readily accepted.

TRAINING FOR ORGANISATION

“Let’s go back to the history of Christ and see just what He Himself was planning for His own Church. That will give us a start.

“Christ’s preoccupation with His Church is one of the outstanding facts of His public life. He talks of it constantly. More importantly, He begins to build that Church from almost the start of His career. It was as if He knew, as certainly He did, that His own career of teaching and working would be extremely short, and He must build up a group to carry on His work when His death had been decreed. Loving the whole world and every man and woman in it, He wisely stretched out beyond the bounds of His own time and nation and began at once to plan for the carrying of His truths and His means of salvation to all people of all races and ages. He would die and rise and ascend into Heaven. But His work must go on without pause or interruption. All men must find available the truths He had come from Heaven to reveal. and the strength which He poured out in the outstretched blessing of His hands.

TRAINING SPECIALISTS

“Hence, quite obviously, He was preoccupied from the beginning about His Church. For His Church was to carry on His work, as He put it Himself, “until the winding up of the world.”

“Christ was consummately an organiser. We find Him assembling some seventy-two men. Out of them He carefully sorts a group of twelve. And upon them He lavishes the most exact and careful training. He explains to them things which are hidden and mysterious in His parables. He tells them just what to say and how to say it. He walks with them, talks with them, eats with them, discusses with them His ideals and high purposes, prays for them that His Father will give them the strength and courage of their important office, promises to send the Holy Spirit into their souls, and literally fulfills that promise on Pentecost; and, for three years, gives the major portions of His efforts, not to teaching and miracles, but to the training of a college of apostles.

“In His company, they see just what He does and how He does it. He focusses their attention on those towards whom His heart goes out in special interest. And, experimentally,. He sends them off to carry His message to the towns He does not personally visit, checking up on their success or failure when they return.

“The whole process was that of a skilled organiser imparting to his followers his spirit and ideals and purposes. He was visualising an entire future in which they would carry forward His work. And He trained them elaborately and painstakingly for the task of carrying His name and work before all the people.

WITH ONE MIND

“Then He passed a step further. He identified Himself with them. They were these cornerstones of His Church, to be one with Himself. Their voice was really His voice. “Who heareth you heareth Me.” He was the Good Shepherd. Yes: but He transmitted to them the task that was the Good Shepherd’s; for they were to feed His lambs and His sheep. He had brought the Gospel, the good news that was to save the world: but it was their sublime privilege to “preach the Gospel to every creature,” carrying on the work He had personally kept confined to the narrow boundaries of Judea and Galilee. His frequent expression, an integral part of His workfor souls, was “Thy sins are forgiven thee.” Now He turns to His disciples and confers upon them the power to carry on this forgiveness of sins. Wherever they go and whatever they do, He will be with them. Time will pass and they will die; their successors will take up their work. He will still be with them. Until the ending of the world, till everything has been finished and done, He will be standing at their side, one of them, their strength, their inspiration, their source of power and unity.

“Upon this group of specialists, who were, first of all, specialists in His own thought and work, He built His Church. Later, St. Paul was to call Christ the cornerstone of the Church, Christ Himself had anticipated St. Paul by choosing St. Peter as the rock on which the cornerstone and the whole Church was to rest, so that we can picture the Church rising out of the rock of Peter and imperceptibly melting into the cornerstone that was Christ, and rising without break, into the towering edifice that was the whole visible Church.

TRANSFER OF ALL

“It was the most complete possible transfer of power. No skillful business organiser laying out the plans for his cor- poration ever so completely identified the corporation with himself as Christ identified the Church with His own person. He was the bridegroom and the Church was the bride; but, He insisted, bridegroom and bride were really one flesh. Each important action of His life, each significant interest of His heart, He transferred to the Church. And the early Christians, looking upon the identity of the Bishops and Christ, of the priests and the Christ they served, called them by the lovely name of “Alter Christus,” “the other Christ.” And St. Paul, feeling, as a Bishop, this identity with Christ, cried out in those unforgettable and constantlyrepeated words: “I live, now not I, but Christ lives in me.” The Apostles and the early Church felt they had no individual identity; they were the living and walking continuance of the mission of Christ to the world. They spoke His words; performed His actions; loved those He had loved; lived only to see His kingdom triumphant upon earth.”

“A beautiful concept, and easily intelligible,” Osborne agreed. “But, quite aside from the fact that it has nothing to do with the Church of the present, I find it a pretty and sentimental idea, and hardly a rockfast reality.”

He sipped appreciatively at his julep, watching the priest down the long, frosted sides.

Father Hall lifted his own deep brown glass to his lips, and then set it down on the low table at his side, carefully clearing a space among the books and letters and magazines and manuscripts that littered it.

REASON FOR LOVE

“If I didn’t believe with all my heart that the Church was merely the continuance of the work of Christ, if I were not persuaded with the deepest conviction that the thoughts of the Church were the thoughts of Christ, and its interests, ideals, activities, objectives, essentially His, I should not be in the slightest concerned with it. But because I am sure that the Church in all essentials uses Christ’s very words, speaks with His accents, and does only the things that He started and gave to it to carry on, I love the Church as I love Christ, and only because I love Christ.”

“While I think of the Church as a powerful and brilliantly-managed organisation, like, say, Standard Oil Company or the Pennsylvania Railroad.”

Ford Osborne was sincere in his emphasis.

“Personally,” interjected Helen, “I”ve shied away from all organisations since the stock crash.”

“If the Church were, primarily, an organisation,” Fr. Hall replied, “it would share the fate of all organisations. Primarily it is not. Primarily it is the continuance of the work of a Divine Person, and that is why, while other organisations falter and crash, it moves serenely along its way. The Christ who rose from the dead holds the Church which carries on His work and speaks with His voice superior to the fate of other organisations. It will never fail, simply because Christ cannot fail.”

STILL THE SAME

“But I still don’t get the identity,” protested Osborne.

“We’re coming to that. Let me see how I can make it clear to you.

“Well, suppose we start with this: A dear friend of yours disappears for a matter of some thirty years.” “A modern Rip Van Winkle without the schnapps.” suggested Osborne.

“Enoch Arden without a wife,” amended Helen.

“He comes back as changed, well, as changed in appearance as old Rip himself. His personality has remained. His face is aged and bearded, and hi s lithe young figure has grown bent and sagging. How do you recognise him?” “Not from his passport pictures,” was Helen’s offer, which rapidly decrescendoed under Ford’s. “Don’t be frivolous. young lady.”

IDENTICAL VOICE

“You recognise him when he begins to talk. In all probability his voice identifies him. If it doesn’t, you recognise him from the things he is interested in; the things that still are the fundamental concerns of his heart and mind. His body may have changed : but you know him when he begins to talk of the things that he loved, and to press on towards the interests that have in times past engrossed him.”

“That’s right enough,” agreed Osborne.

“Well, precisely that test proves the moral identity of Christ and His Church. He said that the Church should speak with His voice, so much so that those that heard the Church would hear Him. But what He really meant was that the Church would continue to say over and over again precisely the things that He had said during His mortal life. And that voice would keep repeating and stressing His fundamental interests.

WHENCE THIS POWER?

“No man who has ever heard a Catholic priest talk has failed to notice that he spoke with a certain power superior to any mere eloquence. I have quoted so often a pagan friend of mine who, on returning from a trip through Ireland, said to me: ‘I never failed to be astonished at the Irish priests. You see, I used to drop into village churches for Sunday services: it was part of my way of learning to know the people. Well, a priest would get into the pulpit, a chap who was possibly my inferior in education and experience. He might speak with a blanket-thick brogue. But, do you know, when the old chap began to talk, he spoke like a person with power.’

‘“And, do you know.’ I asked him, ‘what you are quoting?’”

“He looked surprised.

SAME WORDS

‘‘When the Son of the carpenter began to preach, the people marvelled, and said to Him: ‘He speaks as one having power and not as the Scribes and Pharisees.’ Your Irish priest speaks with power. simply because, like all the priests of the world, he speaks Sunday after Sunday with the voice of Jesus Christ. He simply repeats Christ’s message, explains a little more fully His parables, draws the inevitable conclusion and applications from His doctrines. But, unlike many ministers who go romancing out into the fields, far, far from the mind of Christ, the priest, as the official of the Church, knows nothing to say and nothing to preach that he has not found in the mind and heart of Christ. And that is why he still speaks as one having power.”

Osborne nodded.

“I’ve noticed that myself,” he said.

“Now, you can identify the Church as the continuance of Christ visible to the world if you listen to its voice even in passing. All the so-called difficult mysteries and dogmas of the Church are simply repetitions of the teachings of Christ : The Holy Trinity, the Blessed Sacrament, the mystical omen of vine and branches into the one Body of Christ, the relative importance of soul and body and of time and eternity; the impossibility of winning Heaven without the continued help of God, known as Grace; the fact of Hell; the supremacy of the successors of St. Peter, to whom were given the keys of the Kingdom of Heaven; the necessity of prayer and penance, the enduring character of marriage. the value of personal purity, and of poverty of spirit, contempt for riches-go down the list, and you’ll find that the main dogmas of the Church are simply endless repetitions of the doctrines of Jesus Christ, spoken in unchanged terms by the voice of the Church. which learned to speak as it listened to the voice of Christ.

NEW DOGMAS

The same type of people who grew impatient with the doctrines of Jesus Christ, and said contemptuously or reluctantly, “This is a hard saying, and who can hear it?’ today grow impatient with the dogmas of the Church. Yet even the most cursory study of the great and essential body of the Church’s teachings throws the student back to Christ with immediate precipitancy. What Christ taught, the Church repeats. What He said, the Church says in identical words. Even the vast ‘Summa’ of St. Thomas is only an amplification of the words of Christ, which the Church had been repeating from the first to the thirteenth century, and which it has kept repeating until the present moment. ‘

“It rather seems to me,” Osborne objected. “that the Church is always pulling a few new dogmas. There’s the infallibility of the Pope, for instance.”

“And there is the Church’s attitude towards divorce,” supplemented Helen. “and its demand for a monopoly of religion and education.”

“I’m not going to go into the whole question of the infallibility of the Pope, but I’m just going to ask you if the dogmas of Papal infallibility did not become inevitable (as it was for centuries the accepted principle on which the Church acted) the very minute that Christ told Peter he was a Rock against which error would beat in vain, and promised him that in all he taught He, Christ, would be with him as the sustaining force, and ordered him to feed His entire flock-with the implication that he would feed them the Bread of Truth, and not Milton’s wind of error?”

“Well, of course,” Osborne said slowly, and then stopped, as if stymied.

“As for divorce,” continued Father Hall, “the Church has done no more than repeat with tireless insistence the saying of Christ that divorce with remarriage is adultery. How the Protestant Churches get around the flat, almost brutal, condemnation of divorce by Christ is just a little beyond me. They have to ignore His plain teaching in order to satisfy a divorce-mad generation. The Church cannot, and never shall. It must repeat what Christ taught with merciless insistence.

MONOPOLISTS

Of course, the Church insists on a monopoly of religion. Didn’t Christ pray that “all might be one as He and His Father were one?” Didn’t He look forward to a time when there would be one flock and one Shepherd? Did He establish a series of Churches, all saying and doing different things? Or did He talk, in season out of season, of one Church, one flock, one people? Christ was the bridegroom of the Church. In the Protestant and unbelieving point of view, with scores or hundreds of Churches, Christ becomes the strangest sort of spiritual bigamist. The Church is no more insistent upon monopoly of religion than Christ Himself was. With St. Paul, it simply clings to Christ’s one faith, one church, one baptism.

“The Church does not precisely demand a monopoly of religion. But, like Christ. it finds that system of education which places the values of earth far ahead of the values of Heaven intolerable and un-Christian. And it hears Christ cry out in protest to those who deliberately keep religion out of education: “Suffer the little children to come unto Me.” Surely the Church is closer to Christ than those Protestant bodies who gladly applaud a school system that forbids Christ entrance into the classroom. Isn’t the Church simply echoing Christ when it demands that the little children be permitted to come unto Him?”

Helen nodded.

“I see,” she answered, and then towards Ford, “and I think that answers you pretty thoroughly, too.”

Osborne regarded the melting ice in his glass without ornament.

A FATHER’S BUSINESS

“Now,” continued the priest, “let’s take a look at those essential interests of mind and heart that so completely and adequately identify the personality of Christ. Early in life, you may remember, He remained behind in the temple, because He “must be about His Father’s business.” That business He, later, transmitted to the Church.

“What was that business? What were His consuming interests?”

Father Hall paused, as if allowing the two young people to make their own answer. As neither of them spoke, he pushed on.

“You may remember that on a certain occasion the Pharisees tried one of their tricks. They asked Him to give them (in a phrase or two) the great Commandment of the Law. They hoped He would pick badly and they would he able to attack Him for His mistake.

“Instead, what they did was to give Him a magnificent opportunity to summarise His own interests and the absorbing concerns of His mind and heart.

“So He gave them two Commandments. You know them. I”m sure, though, in the most astonishing betrayal of Christ’s own primary interests, the whole unbelieving world and most of the Protestant Churches have completely forgotten the Commandments to which Christ gave first place.”

WHICH WAS FIRST?

Again he paused. and Osborne looked up.

“Wasn’t His Commandment,” the young man asked, somewhat doubtfully, “that we should love our neighbours as ourselves?”

The priest smiled in something like mild, triumph.

“I thought you’d say that. Is that what you think, too, Helen?”

“I thought it was something about doing unto others as you would have them do unto you,” she answered. The priest’s smile broadened.

“Out of the mouth of our own times you’ve answered. And it’s precisely our times that have completely forgotten the first and greatest Commandment of the Law of Christ.”

The young couple were more puzzled than ever.

“I know you’re at sea. The modern Protestant bodies are bolding up the love of the neighbour as the important and all—embracing Commandment of God. They are strong for humanitarianism. If men love their neighbour, they, there-fore, find their names leading the list of those who love God. But the Church remembers that Christ gave as His first first

Commandment. . . .”

Out of the dim past, Helen called forth a forgotten phrase, and uttered it in a very shaky and hesitant voice: “Thou shalt love the Lord Thy God, with thy whole mind. . . .”

A RICHER LOVE

“ . . . Correct!” smiled the priest. “The first Commandment of Christ was the command to love God. The command to love one’s neighbour took second place. Now, I”m not going to stop to consider whether He was right or wrong in the way He rated their importance. That’s not the point. He put the love of God in first place, and so does the Catholic Church, and only the Catholic Church. Today, the honour of God is the main concern of the Church. Hence, the unending Sacrifice of the Mass, the insistence on prayer of praise and honour to God, the emphasis on the relationship of the individual soul to God, the whole magnificent liturgy of the Church, which is a grand effort to love God and honour Him in the most perfect possible form.

“And all that is part of the other interest of Christ in our ultimately gaining Heaven. Protestantism has largely dedicated itself to making a Heaven upon earth. The unbelievers have shrugged their shoulders hopelessly, admitting that they knew nothing of Heaven and care less. But the Church remembers that it profits a man nothing if he gain this whole world and lose that immortal soul of his, and, with it, his eternity of happiness and joy in Heaven. Christ was essentially a supernaturalist. So is the Church. Christ was intent upon focussing the attention of His followers on the love of God and the gaining of Heaven. So is the Church. And, in that, the Church is as unique in this age of humanitarianism and earthbound interest as Christ was unique in His very similar age.”

“Personally,” Osborne interjected, “and though I admit it is aside from the direct question, I”m for humanitarianism.”

THEN LOVE MEN

“And so, if humanitarianism is rightly understood and applied, was Christ and is His Church. For the second Com—mandment is: “Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself.”

This Commandment is immediately connected with the first. In fact, it is impossible without the first. For the best and really the only permanent reason for loving one’s neighbor is one’s love of God.”

“That I certainly don’t see,” interjected Osborne.

“It’s a large subject, and I”m not going to enter into it now. But loving this twisted, unruly, selfish, self-seeking, sinful mass of humanity known as thy neighbour is a terrible trying and difficult job. We love them best only when we remember that they are all children of the same Father in Heaven; that they were loved by Jesus Christ to the point of His dying for them, and that they are destined to an immortality like our own.

NEAR HIS HEART

“But the Church, intently watching Christ, saw who those were whom Christ loved best. They were the poor and afflicted, the little children and the feeble old men, the off-casts of the world. Inevitably, then, the Church has to love these beloved of Christ. And it did, and does. For them, in Christ-like fashion, it builds its institutions of charity, founds its hospitals, and opens the doors of its refuges. Nietzsche would have all these institutions levelled to the ground, as keeping in existence the weak and maimed who hold back the species. The Catholic Church holds them in its warm arms, simply because it has seen Jesus Christ love them and fold them to His breast. The heart of the Catholic Church is that of Christ Himself.”

The priest paused and drained the last drops of coffee from the crushed ice in his glass.

“Yes,” he said, “outside the Catholic Church the first Commandment of Jesus Christ, the Commandment to love God, is almost forgotten. His interest in seeing souls safely reach Heaven has been pushed aside in favour of an absorbing interest in success on earth. And the love of His poor and weak has given place to scientific philanthropy, which is oftenest based not on a love of a needy neighbour, but on an acute dislike for his unpleasant smell, and a wish to remove from my offended sight his unwholesome skin and starving body. I”m afraid that it is the Church who in all this keeps alive the interests of Jesus Christ.”

CONSEQUENCE OF LOVE

Sensing an object in the eyes of Osborne, the priest anticipated it.

“And I am personally convinced that when we love God we shall be wonderfully and deeply concerned with the interests of our neighbour. When we are concerned with Heaven, earth becomes a lovelier place on which to live, simply because we cannot be sinful or really selfish when we are aspiring to Heaven, and sinfulness and selfishness are the things which make the earth unhappy. But that is all a tremendous question, and not quite the point at issue now. Let’s stick to the identity of the Church and Christ.

“As the Church speaks, so, too, it acts. Endlessly and tirelessly it does what Christ did, and what He commanded. Let’s look at that side of the Church’s life.

“Christ at the Last Supper chose the most solemn moment of His life, the moment before death, to issue a command to His disciples. They were to turn bread into His Body and wine into His Blood. The Church continues this in its daily Mass.

“In His all-night talk with Nicodemus, Christ stated in clearest possible terms the need to be “born again of water and the Holy Ghost.” Later, He commanded His disciples to make Baptism the gateway of admission into His Church. The Church continues to stress in the theory and practice the essential need of rebirth through Baptism.

“Christ said simply: “Without Me you can do nothing.” While modern religions stress self-sufficiency and the ability to carve out one’s career in time and eternity alone and unaided, the Church confers the strength and immediate help of Jesus Christ in the grace of the Sacraments. It admits that without Christ we can do nothing worthy of eternal life. And it sees that we live and work in constant union with the divine Christ.

SIN AND SOLACE

“Christ forgave sins Himself. One of His most consoling and recurring greetings was: “Be of good heart, thy sins are forgiven thee.” This power of forgiving sins, He gave in explicit delegation to His Church. “Whose sins you shall forgive, they are forgiven them.” Yet the Catholic Church alone exercises this sweet and, consoling, and most important power of Christ. In fact, only the Catholic Church is deeply concerned about sin, for it draws that concern from the heart and mind of Christ who felt sin so terrible a thing that He died to break its power over the world.

“Christ promised the Church the abiding presence of the Comforter, the Holy Spirit, who would come and dwell in the hearts of the faithful. The Church still brings down the Holy Spirit in the Sacrament of Confirmation.

MIRACLES OF HEALING

“Christ, to confirm the fact that He was the Messias and the Divine Teacher speaking with authority given Him by His Father, raised the sick and cursed diseases. The early Church found itself with the same power, because this power impressed and convinced unbelievers.But Christ’s concern was, primarily, with souls and not with bodies. So the exercise of the power was largely abandoned. Yet the miracles of healing, so important in the eyes of the Christian Scientists and many other parvenu religions, continue uninterruptedly within the Church. Lourdes is the scene of constant miracles of health-restoring. No saint is raised to the altars until he or she has blessed those seeking intercession with extraordinary and proven miracles.

FOR ALL

“The command which Christ gave to His Church was universal : “Go teach all nations, all people, every creature.” Amusingly enough, the early Fathers of the Church took this so literally that they wondered if the “every creature” might not also mean the animals. They thought, perhaps, they might be in duty bound to go out and preach to the horse and dogs and sheep.”

“I thought St. Francis did preach to the birds,” suggested Helen.

“Or was it the fish?” asked Osborne. “I have a hunch that he gave a sermon at the seashore that was attentively followed by the bass and pickerel and swordfish and sharks.”

“You’re right,” said Father Hall. “He preached to the birds and the fish both. And he made an excellent convert out of the wolf of Gabbio.”

“I wonder,” puzzled Ford, ruefully, “if he had better luck changing the habits of his congregations than most preachers have.”

“That,” Father Hall replied, “is one of the secrets of history.”

Again they laughed, and the priest resumed.

CONSTRICTED OR CATHOLIC

“Well, at any rate, the Church has taken that command to preach to all races and all people very seriously. You must remember that Protestantism was, for the first two hundred and fifty years of its existence-that is, from the revolt of Luther-almost entirely a series of little national or local groups. Its missionary enterprises are only about one hundred years old. The early little Protestant sects were content to settle down and become national. Lutheranism adjusted itself to the Scandinavian countries and parts of Germany. Anglicanism considered itself as English as roast beef. Calvinism was either notably Swiss or belligerently Scotch. The Pilgrim Fathers never dreamed for a minute that it was part of their duty to preach the faith they believed to the Indians. Protestantism, in the main, was more racial than Buddhism or Shintoism.

“The Church, on the other hand, had Christ’s restless missionary zeal. It preached from the beginning to every creature. From Rome went out the great apostles: Boniface to Germany, Patrick to Ireland, Augustine to England, Cyril and Methodius to the Slavs, as Peter himself had gone to Antioch and Rome, and Paul went to the peoples of Grecian lands. The Catholic missionary invariably preceded the first explorers of each newly-discovered country. And, while the English discoverers and colonisers obliterated the Indian of North America, the Catholic colonisers brought with them to South America their priests to give the Indians Christianity. Today, as always, the Church is the one ever-advancing missionary organisation in theworld. It still preaches the Gospel to every creature.”

DIVINE PARALLEL

Father Hall summarised briefly on his fingers.

“It would almost be easy to put the words and actions and interests of Christ into one column, and into a second column the doctrines a nd actions and interests of the Church, and you would find them in perfect parallel. It’s a task I commend to your attention.”

“Sounds like a game,” suggested Helen.

“Make it a game. It’s the sort of game you couldn’t lose.

“You could push the comparison, however, even farther,” said Father Hall. “You could, if you cared to, find in the life of Christ and the life of the Church another startling parallel. It is almost as if Christ meant His Church to carry the external identity of birth and career, of friends and enemies.”

“And I don’t get that either,” Osborne objected, looking constantly more puzzled.

HIS LIFE

“The life of Christ,” explained Father Hall, “was one of birth in extreme poverty and among the world’s outcasts. But to Him flocked at once not merely the smelly shepherds, but a handful of the brilliant Magi. Instantly, His appearance is the signal for persecution, bitter and fierce enough to drive Him into exile and take the life of innocents killed in His stead. Then He passes into the obscurity of the Hidden Life.

“His reappearance among men is the signal for men to flock to Him in intensest love and most relentless hatreds. He is surrounded by friends willing to die for Him; by enemies who first plan with consummate skill, and then boast with triumph of His complete collapse. His doctrines arouse the utmost enthusiasm, and meet with the most resounding ridicule and contempt. He goes down under the accumulation of conspiracies into apparent failure-the Passion that terminated in His death. But His enemies find Him able to break even the tomb in which they have sealed Him, and able to rise to new triumphs and glories.

“I hardly need to sketch the parallel, do I? The Church was born among the same poor people who had surrounded Christ. The slaves and fishermen, the outcasts of society, the women and little children, so despised in those days, were the first Christians-those and the publicans and sinners sought and saved by Christ, its Founder.

LOVE AND HATE

“Its first appearance is the signal for passionate love and bitter hatred. And persecution drives at the Church as it drove at the Infant Christ. Its followers taste martyrdom, as did the Holy Innocents slain for Christ. And the Church, though it finds flocking to it the brilliant minds of the first Fathers of the Church, whose apologies for the Faith; rang loud enough to reach the ears of emperors, was forced into the Hidden Life of the Catacombs.

“And, as in the case of Christ Himself, the doctrine of the Church, really His doctrines, reawaken the same enthusiastic love and the same contempt and anger. Men loved its teaching well enough to give up all in a desert or a monastery to become specialists in their practice. Men hated them so furiously that they beat them with every sort of club or argument, laughed at them, as Herod had laughed at Christ; snubbed them, as the materialistic Sadducees had snubbed the Saviour; and held them up to the ridicule of the brilliant of every age.

Christ was attacked by a thousand contradictory theorists and for a thousand contradictory reasons. The most unusual people, Herod and Pilate, who hated each other; the Pharisees and Sadducees, who were at one another’s throats, joined willing hands in their hatred of Christ, as the most diverse people-Turks and Protestant English, pagans and Arians, Gnostics and Manicheans-joined hands in their hatred of His Church.

JOINT ENEMIES

“The Church has been happy in its enemies. I could not imagine that Arius or Simon the Magician, Henry the Eighth or Voltaire, the merciless Robespierre or the greedy princes of early Protestant Germany, the sneering doubters and cruel persecutors of every age and nation, would have felt any love or loyalty for Christ. I personally think there is no stronger proof for the identity of Christ and His Church than the fact that the Church has been honoured by the hatred of the very men and women who wouldhave found Christ’s doctrines oppressive, His practices tiresome, and His life a direct affront to the lives they were living.

“And the men who would have followed Him gladly in life, the men who admired unselfishness and the women who loved purity, the strong in faith and the sinless of heart, have gladly accepted the Church, once they knew it, as they gladly accepted and followed the love of Christ.

“So the Church lived, as Christ lived, in the midst of continuous conspiracies. And how often have its enemies boasted, as the enemies of Christ boasted, that it was just about to be crushed from the earth, if it had not already been slain beyond the hope of resurrection. The Emperors were sure they had slain it. So was Julian, who had been a Christian. The Arians knew they had driven it from among the living. Each new heresy rose to foretell its immediate death. Protestantism foresaw its own complete triumph over a slain Catholicity. The exultant and arrogant science of fifty years ago gave the Church not another quarter of a century to live.

IMMORTAL

““Yet, like its Founder, the Church defies Calvary. It rises again after crucifixion. It is slain to outward seeing a thousand times. Yet it lives on stronger and more clearly immortal than before its apparent death; while, like the enemies of its Founder, its enemies walk unsteadily towards those dark tombs and graveyards of history in which rest only rotten bones and unrecognisable skulls.

“Not for nothing has Christ promised to His Church that the gates of Hell itself would not prevail against it. Calvary could not drive Him into an unbroken tomb. The Calvaries that have marked the pathway of the Church leave it stronger and more like its immortal Founder and Master.”

TOO SANDY

They were silent for a few moments. Then Osborne broke the silence.

“I can see all that. But certainly you are not going to tell me that the Pope of Rome, surrounded by waving palms and shouting multitudes and retinues of guards, and living in a magnificent palace, even remotely suggests Christ. And this elaborate Catholic Church, with all its intricate laws and organization, bears no resemblance to the simple, quiet, unobtrusive Christ.”

Father Hall smiled.

“I might answer you in the case of the Pope by reminding you of Christ on Palm Sunday. The whole city turned out for that celebration, and He rode as a king, surrounded by the waving palm branches and the shouts and acclamations of the multitude.

WHAT’S ESSENTIAL

“But let’s not offer that as an answer. Let’s rather say that it is too bad people of today can see no difference between what is essential and what is accidental. Men love the Church. Because they do, they bestow upon it the finest things of art or music or architecture or pageantry that they possess. Men do the same thing for the country they love. And they get no keener joy than in decking out the women of their hearts in all the beauty of silk and jewels, while they sing her their poems (if they can write poetry) set to beautiful music (if they can compose music), and kneel gladly and proudly at her feet. Don’t mistake all the beauty and pageantry of the Church for its essentials. It is only essential that men express in their finest emotional terms the joy that is in their hearts and the faith that is in their minds. Men surround the Popes with beauty because they see in the Popes the representatives of Christ. And, since they cannot reach Christ directly, they reach Him in His representatives.

““The Church took the simple things which Christ left, and surrounded them with the glory of ritual. But the elements themselves are essentially simple : as simple as bread and wine, over which are whispered unheard words; as simple as the pouring of water, and the lifting of a hand in absolution, or in the conferring of the Holy Ghost, And, if all the beauty and architecture and pageantry were to be swept away tomorrow, the Church would still be essentially the same as though the Pope in some cave said Mass upon a broken piece of board, and poured water over the head of a shepherd’s little baby, and gave absolution to a sweating farmer kneeling at his un-sandalled feet.

BEYOND THE PERSON

“Naturally, a world-wide society needs laws and organisation to keep in touch with its members, consisting, as it does, of the most diversified people in the most diversified places. But no one believes that, aside from the simple organisation of Pope, Bishops, priests and faithful given the Church by Christ, and those fundamental laws which govern any perfect society, such as the Church, the rest are to be regarded as the laws of the Medes and the Persians.

“If a persecution tomorrow should drive the Church into hiding and make impossible the enforcement of most of ecclesiastical law, the Church would continue its divine mission, and still be the visible representative of Christ to the world.

“And that day may not be as far off as some of us think.”

Osborne was smoking silently. Father Hall took time to refill his pipe. Helen Webb went to the window, drew back the curtain and looked out at the priest’s garden that nestled in the shadow of his little church.

Nihil Obstat:

Reccaredus Fleming, Censor Theol. Deput.

Imprimi Potest:

@ Ioannes Carolus, Archiep. Dublinen., Hiberniae Primas. 16/3/1945

********

Christ And Prayer

BY PHILIP GERRARD

INDEX

INTRODUCTION

The most important thing in our lives is how we stand in relation to God. God is the only perfect judge of our value because He is the only one Who sees everything in its true light. He sees us as we really are, with all the failings and imperfections which we take good care to hide from those around us. Our real worth therefore is determined by how we stand in God’s eyes.

This is not the way the present day world judges a man’s value. For the twentieth century, having thrown aside all idea of the supernatural, has become accustomed to regard everything from the material standpoint. It is not surprising then, that when the world is assessing the worth of a person it takes as standards those things which, being material, have little or no connection with God or the Soul of man as, for example, money, social standing, physical powers.

Affected in so many ways by this spirit of materialism, our own judgment is easily warped. We follow the example of the world, and we, too, lose the balance between the natural and the supernatural. This mistaken outlook affects our life so that we find it hard to live as true Christians. We are satisfied to render to Caesar the things that are Caesar’s, but too often fail to render to God the things that are God’s.

How, then, are we to live so as to be always pleasing to our Creator? The answer to this question is found in the life of Christ because He is the Way, the Truth, and the Life. God became man, in all things like to us except in Sin, to show us in the clearest possible way how we are to live if we wish to please Him. Our Lord is our model in all our activities, amongst which the most important is Prayer. It is by Prayer that man grows in his knowledge and love of God. It is by Prayer that man fulfills the duty of thanking God for His benefits and of praising Him. It is by prayer that man keeps in touch with the supernatural order from which he derives his true life, the life of Grace. Our prayer is of the utmost importance because it is the surest indication of how we stand in relation to God.

In forming our ideas about Prayer it is necessary to learn from Christ. This we can do in two ways, either by studying His teachings, as for example, the Our Father, which He taught His Apostles when they asked Him how to pray. On the other hand, we can learn from His example. We can study His life and actions and see when and under what circumstances Our Lord prayed. We can learn the qualities that our prayer should have by watching Christ as He prays and by trying to discover as far as we can how He went about praying. From the pages of the Gospels we can also discover the reasons which prompted Our Saviour to converse with His Heavenly Father.

According to these three divisions we shall treat of Christ’s example in prayer, seeing in the first place WHEN He prayed; secondly, HOW He prayed, and thirdly, WHY He prayed.

WHEN DID CHRIST PRAY?

Prayer may be considered in two ways. In a broad sense to pray means to act in accordance with the will of God in order to please Him. When in the morning offering we offer to God all our thoughts, words and actions, we sanctify our everyday life by raising it to the level of a prayer. During the day when we do whatever God wants us to do we are pleasing to Him and we fulfil our Lord’s command, You ought always to Pray.

In its strict and ordinary meaning, prayer is the intercourse of the Child of God with its Heavenly Father. To pray is to speak to God, to put aside other activities and to turn one’s thoughts and desires to Heaven. The great St. Theresa, who was so experienced in prayer, writes that, Prayer is a communion alone with God so as to express our love to Him, by whom we know ourselves to be loved.

Taking prayer in its broad sense as being the offering to God of one’s actions, we may say that Christ’s life was a perfect prayer. From His youth, which He spent in helping His foster father, and throughout His public life until His death, our Lord lived every moment and offered every action for His Father’s glory. It was His constant rule and the means by which He sanctified His life, to do the will of His Father. What pleases Him I always do. At His birth, lying helpless in the manger, His little lips could not move, but the angels who surrounded the cave prayed in His name. Their prayer was one of praise and glory to God in the highest. They knew the reason for the Son of God becoming Man, and in their hymn on the morning of Christ’s birth they reflected the depths of His Soul and foreshadowed the spirit that would inspire His whole life.

When Jesus was twelve years old the Holy Family went to Jerusalem to celebrate the feast of the Passover. It was on their return journey with the large band of pilgrims from Galilee that Mary and Joseph discovered that Jesus was missing. Going back to Jerusalem in great distress they searched among their friends for the Child, and it was only after three days that they found Him. seated in the Temple in the midst of the Doctors, both hearing them and asking them questions. Even though she was amazed at this scene, our Lady did not forget the anxiety she had suffered during those days. She said: My Son, why hast Thou done so to us? Your father and I have sought you with sorrow. The reply which Jesus made to His mother is the first sentence of Our Saviour recorded in the Gospels. His thoughts were already fixed on His true Father in Heaven, and the desire to do His Father’s will was the key to His actions. Did you not know that I must be about My Father’s business? Do you not realise, He says, that I have only one purpose in all My actions, and that is to please My Father. Do you not understand that My whole life is set aside for this, and even though at times it may cause a sword of sorrow to pierce your heart, still I shall do only what My Father wishes. From His earliest youth, therefore, Christ sanctified His life by consecrating it to God.

The little that we know about His hidden life in Nazareth bears out just as clearly that our Lord made a prayer of every action. After He was found teaching the doctors in the temple, Jesus went down to Nazareth with His parents; there He was subject to them, and He increased in Wisdom, in age, and in grace before God and before men. Jesus was subject to Mary and Joseph. They were the superiors whom God had appointed over Him, and in their will He saw the will of His Father. Jesus knew that by subjecting Himself to Mary, His Mother, and Saint Joseph, and by pleasing them He was at the same time pleasing His Heavenly Father.

During His public life, and especially during the Passion, this ready acceptance of His Father’s will is ever in His mind: My meat is to do the will of Him who sent me. As our study of Christ’s prayer proceeds, we shall see that this is at the heart of all His intercourse with God. By instructing the people, by healing the sick, and by preparing the foundations of the Church, Christ carried out from day to day the work which His Father had given Him to do. He consecrated His life to God, He became obedient even unto death, and by His loving acceptance of all His sorrows His every act was sanctified and became a perfect prayer.

Besides this constant directing of His actions according to His Father’s pleasure, there were many times in our Lord’s life when He raised His heart to heaven in intimate converse, and when He turned aside from His preaching and devoted Himself to silent prayer. Throughout the Gospels we find many instances of Christ retiring alone to the mountains in order to pray. In the first chapter of St. Mark’s Gospel we read that shortly after He began His public mission Christ rose up one morning before daybreak and departed into a solitary place, and there He prayed. St. Luke describes the same incident, and then later on in 5–16 tells how Christ withdrew Himself into the wilderness and prayed. In two other places, 9–11 and 11–1, St. Luke refers to this habit of quiet prayer. St. Mark in 6–46, after describing how our Lord fed the multitude, relates that He sent His disciples away and then He departed into a mountain to pray, and St. Matt. adds, when evening was come He was there alone.

The Apostles, therefore, were accustomed to their Master retiring frequently to some lonely place. He would leave the excited crowds wondering at His miracles of healing and slip away quietly to some remote place where He would Le alone with His Father. In the evenings especially this was His practice to retire by Himself, and when He was in Jerusalem He used to go to Mount Olivet. St. Luke records that after the Last Supper Christ came out and went as He was accustomed to the Mount of Olives and when He was withdrawn from them a stone’s throw He kneeled down and prayed.

Besides these frequent occasions when Our Lord went by Himself to pray, we find Him speaking to His Heavenly Father before each important work He undertook. At the beginning of His public life He called together the men who were to help in His work of preaching. Of these disciples, He chose twelve to be more intimately associated with Him and later on to be His Apostles. These twelve men He was going to instruct with special care, and upon one of them, as upon a rock, He was to build His Church. It was important, then, that the right men should be chosen, for this was the beginning of the Church. On the evening before His final decision, Christ had recourse to prayer. As St. Luke tells us, Christ went out into a mountain to pray, and continued all night in the prayer of God. When it was day He called His disciples, and of them He chose twelve, whom also He named Apostles.

The miracles which Christ performed are an important and integral part of the story of His public life. He went about Palestine doing good by healing the sick as well as by preaching His Gospel of love. Not only did the poor have the Kingdom of God preached to them, but the blind saw, the lame walked, and the deaf were given their hearing. Our Lord used His miracles to show the people His divine power, and to win their attention so that they would listen to His teaching. They were also a means of bringing the people around Him, for the fame of these wonderful happenings preceded His journeys. Hence they were so valuable and important to His ministry.

Before these miracles, Christ often prayed and asked His Father to direct the work He was about to do. They are further illustrations of how He consecrated His actions by referring them to His Heavenly Father.

Apart from His Glorious Resurrection, the raising of Lazarus from the dead is the most striking miracle in Our Lord’s life.

It was because of the sensation that this miracle caused among the people, who could not fail to see in it a, heavenly seal on the truth of His claims, that the Jewish Priests finally decided to put Our Lord to death. Christ loved Lazarus and his two sisters, and took a special interest in them, so it is not surprising to find that when Lazarus fell sick, the first person whom Martha and Mary thought of was Jesus. They sent a messenger at once to tell Him what had happened, but when our Lord arrived at Bethany Lazarus was already dead and buried. His sympathy went out to the sorrowing sisters, and He, too, began to weep because His friend was dead. Jesus asked that the stone covering the tomb should be taken away, and then He raised His eyes to Heaven and said: Father, I give thanks that Thou hast heard me. Yet I know that Thou hearest me always; but because of the people who stand around I spoke that they may believe that Thou hast sent me.

This is an example of how Christ always had recourse to prayer. On this occasion His prayer was one of thanks-giving to His Father for the favour that was to be given through His power to Martha and Mary. It was a prayer of confidence- confidence in God’s goodness, and another illustration of how His will was perfectly attuned to that of His Heavenly Father. Above all, His prayer before the tomb of Lazarus was for the benefit of the people who were witnessing the miracle, and for us, who after so many centuries can listen to Christ and learn from Him how we should turn our eyes to Heaven whenever we are about to begin an important task.

An incident in Our Lord’s life of greater importance for the Apostles who were present was the Transfiguration. The three in whom Jesus showed a special interest were Peter, James, and John,, for it was they whom He was to bring into the Garden to witness His Agony, and one of them, His beloved disciple, was to accompany Him to Calvary and remain beside Mary at the foot of the Cross. Peter, James and John, therefore, needed special graces to strengthen them in their work, so on this occasion Our Lord gave them an opportunity to see Him in His power and glory.

At the Transfiguration, Christ chose to display His glory while at prayer. In the words of St. Luke, He took Peter, James and John and went up into a mountain to pray. As He prayed the appearance of His countenance was changed and His raiment became a radiant white. He wished to link up the two ideas of happiness and prayer in the minds of His Apostles. On another occasion they were to see Him praying while suffering His agony in the garden of olives, so now He strengthened them by displaying His glory while at the same time He prayed. In this they had a further proof that Christ’s mind was always occupied in prayer, and that He did not undertake any work without referring it to His Heavenly Father.

When Our Lord worked His miracle of feeding the multitude with a few loaves and fishes, He set before us yet another example of this constant intercourse with His Father. Each of the Evangelists refers to this prayer; Mark and John record that Christ gave thanks before He broke and distributed the bread. Matthew and Luke, using almost the same words, tell how Jesus took the five loaves and two fishes, and, looking up to heaven, blessed and broke the loaves and gave them to His disciples.

It was then that Christ promised to institute the Eucharist-to give His own body and blood to be the living food and drink for those who would believe in Him. Some time later, after the Last Supper, He fullfilled that promise and commanded the Apostles to do what He had done, i.e., to change bread and wine into His body and blood. That evening His passion was about to begin, and as He sat at the table with His Apostles for the last time, His prayer took on a more impressive tone. In the next section we shall see how He opened His heart to God and how He begged His Father’s help for the Apostles. What concerns us here is the fact that OUR LORD DID PRAY AT THIS TIME.

For many years He had been looking forward to these days, and now that the time had arrived and His sufferings in all their terror began to appear before Him, it would have seemed natural for Our Lord to hesitate. But the peace of His Soul was not disturbed. Whenever He had a difficult task to perform during His life, He always turned to prayer, and now, as He is about to take on Himself the sufferings by which He was to atone for the sins of the world, Christ prepares Himself in the same way. St. John relates in detail what Our Lord said on this occasion. Again, by His example, He impresses on those around Him the necessity of turning to God; and the Apostles, seeing the consolation Jesus derived from His prayer, would not easily have forgotten the lesson.

Having described Our Lord’s prayer, St. John goes on to say, Jesus went forth with His disciples beyond the brook of Cedron, where there was a garden into which He and His disciples entered. . . . Jesus took with Him the three who had witnessed His Transfiguration . . . and when He had withdrawn from them about a stone’s throw He knelt down and began to pray. It was then that His agony became so intense that His sweat became as drops of blood. All this time, when the sins of the world were weighing heavily upon His shoulders, Christ continued in prayer, submitting Himself to His Father’s will, and when the suffering increased He prayed more earnestly.

So did Our Lord’s Passion begin, and so it continued until the price of our salvation had been paid. Even when He was nailed to the cross and about to complete the sacrifice of His life, the suffering He was enduring could not turn His mind from prayer, for the words of the Psalms were on His lips. Christ prayed for those who had treated Him so cruelly. Father, forgive them for they know not what they do; and then as He was about to die, He said. Father, into Thy hands I commend My spirit.

HOW DID CHRIST PRAY

It is clear from what has gone before that Christ was constantly referring His actions to God, thinking of His Father’s will, pausing to thank His Father for hearing His requests, and then frequently setting aside all other activities and depriving Himself of the company of His friends to devote His whole mind and heart to God. In doing this, He allowed no opportunity to pass without impressing on the Apostles that they should begin their work in the spirit of prayer, of obedience to God’s will, and of thanksgiving for His benefits.

How did Christ pray? What did He do during those long silent vigils when the people in the villages were excitedly examining the cures He had done during the day and the Apostles were discussing His doctrines? What was the central point, or the main theme of His prayers? These are the questions that come to mind as we follow Him on His journeys through Galilee and listen to Him as He teaches the people who crowd around Him; or as we go with Him, even if it is only to spend an hour, to those quiet places among the hills. These are the questions we shall try to answer now, and even if we do not succeed in penetrating the depths of this Divine Personality, our search will lead us towards the main-spring of that activity which directed the life and actions of God-made-Man. Our search will lead us to the centre of Christ’s prayer, to the principal lesson which He wishes us to learn from His example and will help us to improve our own intimacy with God.

It is so important to pray well in these days when all the forces of a Godless world are bent on breaking this vital link with the source of our spiritual strength. Because that is what prayer is-the main line of communication between God and man, a channel down which God pours His graces to strengthen us, the life-line by which we are ever striving to bring ourselves closer to happiness and Heaven.

In setting out to discover how Christ prayed, it is necessary to examine the relation that existed between Him and the Being to Whom His prayer was directed. For in studying Our Lord’s prayer we must enter into those relations, mysterious for the most part, which began when the Word was made Flesh.

Christ was the Son of God, the Second Person of the Blessed Trinity become Man, and this great truth upon which our religion is based is naturally at the centre of Christ’s intercourse with His Father. The Truth, which came into being at the Annunciation when Mary said, Be it done unto me according to Thy word, was Christ in Whom there are united two distinct elements, Divinity and Humanity. To understand how our Lord prayed, it is necessary to have clearly in mind that He is God and that He is man.

From this second point, viz., that Christ is man, it follows that it is possible for Him to act in a human way, as other men act. We have the power to speak to God because we are men. Christ was a man as really as we are; therefore, He, too, was able to speak to God. But whereas we are human persons having each of us the same human nature, our Lord is a Divine Person possessing Divine as well as human nature. In His. Person the two natures did not fuse so as to form a middle nature, neither Divine nor human, but the two remained complete and distinct. Christ, a Divine Person, could act in a Divine way, and in a human way; and in so far as He was human, He could raise His mind and heart to God.

The other great truth on which the prayer of Christ depended, was His Divinity. Christ, the man, was a Divine Person, the Second Person of the Trinity-united to His Heavenly Father by a union which is unique-a union in nature by which He and the Father were one. He was the Son of God, equal to the Father, and as a result His intercourse with His Father was one of unrivalled unity. I and the Father are One, Our Lord said to the Jews, and during those long nights and on the frequent occasions when He set aside all other activity to give Himself to prayer, it was this union that flooded His Soul with light. It was this union that shone during His prayer at the Transfiguration-it was this union that strengthened and consoled Him in His agony; in a word the deepest element in the prayer of our Saviour was the experience and realisation of an essential unity and an absolutely unique sonship

It is clear, therefore, that the essence of Christ’s prayer was His oneness with the Father. It was the power strengthening His active life; the centre from which radiated the goodness, gentleness, the strength and perseverance, the loving interest, the self-sacrificing toil, the whole greatness of His perfect character. His humanity was united to His Divinity and drawn into unity with God.

The realisation of this unity, the foundation on which Jesus built His prayer, was accompanied and perfected by love. Knowledge gives rise to love, and the more intimate our knowledge of a subject the greater is our love for it. The love of the Son of God for His Father was perfect to a degree far surpassing our understanding because this love was the result of perfect knowledge. No one knows who the Father is but the Son, implies what is equally true, viz., That no one loves the Father as the Son.

This intense love flowing from Christ’s knowledge was also the perfection and summit of His prayer. Because of His union with the Divinity, Our Lord, in His human nature, enjoyed the Beatific Vision. His gaze fell directly and constantly on the beauty of the Trinity, and this vision, the beginning and end of all human life, and at the same time the true source of happiness, filled His Soul with complete joy. It was an absorbing love that lifted Him out of the monotony of His hidden life, separated Him from the companionship of men who saw and could see nothing, whose horizon was confined to the rough village street that crawled up that hillside. It was this that lifted Him above the coarse familiarities, the boorish manner, the galling condescensions that filled the greater part of His life.

It was an active love overflowing from perfect knowledge and strengthened by complete trust. It was the action of a perfect man, stronger than the affection of all human hearts united-a love which at once was the cause of our salvation, and in which our own slight love of God is given a meaning and a real power.

When Our Lord loved His Father with this complete love, there began that worship in Spirit and in Truth which He spoke of to the woman of Samaria. That true worship had been neglected by the Jews; but it was to be given an unshakable foundation in Christ and carried on by His Church till the end of time. The Church is the continuation of Christ’s life on earth, and as it continues and completes His life, so, too, it continues His prayer. We are incorporated into the Church which is His Mystical Body because Christ is the life of our souls, and for this very reason our love is pleasing to God. Hence the value of our love comes only from its being through Christ with Christ and in Christ. Per Ipsum et cum Ipso et in Ipso we pray in the Mass as we offer to the Father omnis honor et gloria. In the same way, our prayer must be made in unity with our Saviour.

Even though at times the Evangelists do not portray the scenes with as much detail as we might wish, we are given ample opportunity in the pages of the Gospel to learn the qualities of our Lord’s prayer. These qualities we shall examine as they appear to us from what is written, without going at length to fill in details left out by the narrators. Let us first take those aspects of the prayer of Christ that are more often overlooked.

Silence was our Lord’s most constant companion. His wish was rather to be in the quiet company of His chosen ones than amidst the noise and bustle of the crowds. So it was in His public life; but how much more marked is it in regard to His hidden life! For three years He preached His Gospel of Love-for thirty years before that He remained in the peaceful surroundings of the countryside. To the Jews, when speaking of prayer in the sermon on the Mount, Jesus said, When you pray . . . go into your room and, closing the door, pray to the Father in secret. It was the same spirit of peaceful solitude that prompted Him to withdraw time and again from the multitudes and go into the mountains to pray. While there He would be free from the distractions of His daily work and would be able to give His whole self to God in prayer. He chose to go away from the crowd because His prayer, although it must often have been for them, was certainly not to them. That His Father saw Him in secret was enough for our Lord. Perhaps the reason for this insistence on silence was to bring home more clearly to us the way we are to go about our prayer. It is all very well for saints to be able to preserve their union with God during the busy hours of the day-a thing impossible in practice for people who are not saints. We shall not all rise to this degree of intimacy; but certainly our Lord does expect of us and He has made it clear by His own example, that we should frequently retire alone and pray in some quiet place. Christ was not like the Pharisee who went to the high place in the temple and shouted out his goodness, nor like the hypocrites, who love to pray standing in the Synagogues and at the street corners. This spirit of silence is so opposed to our modern ideas of excitement and publicity that we notice it is soon as we become acquainted with the life of Christ. But, despite the fact that it is so neglected by the world, it is silence that we should cultivate in our efforts to approach God. Who is man that thou art mindful of him, was the thought of the Psalmist, and if we could only make this thought our own each time we begin to ply, then we would remember at least to approach the majesty of God in silence.

That God should be generous is one of the most wonderful, and at the same time, mysterious things about Him. His being generous is wonderful for us because otherwise we should not be alive. If He was not generous there would have been no creation, no angels, nor a universe. On the other hand, when we do realise what He has done, we find it hard to see the reason. Why should He have chosen weak human beings to share in His Divine Life and happiness? Perhaps the best answer is to be found in His generosity. The greatest indication of this willingness to give Himself is the Incarnation. That God should have created man is striking enough, but how much more striking surely that God, having made man from nothing, should in His greatness, Himself become the helpless creature that He had made. There shines through all the actions of the Son of God this same characteristic of doing good for others. Nor is it lacking in His prayer: Simon, Simon, behold, Satan has desired to have you that he may sift you as wheat. But I have prayed for you that your faith may not fail, and do thou . . . In the same way, He prayed for all His Apostles and followers. It is only natural that Christ should have interceded so much for His friends because His work depended on them. So the generosity of His prayer is best illustrated by His words on the cross, when, after subjecting Himself to every insult, He prayed for His persecutors in the words, Father, forgive them for they know not what they do. He could not do enough for men, and here as He hung on the cross He was unable to forget those who had put Him there. It was not sufficient to die for all men-no, the Son of God must pray even in His last breath for His enemies. Therefore, how can we ever kneel down to pray while fostering hatred in our hearts for those who have done us harm? In this scene, Christ shows us, that our generosity should include even those who have offended us.

The knowledge that God is so generous helps us to be confident when we approach Him. If we wish to be like Christ in prayer confidence and trust in our Heavenly Father will be one of our principal qualities. We are children of God, our Father, and, after all, what is more noticeable about the way children approach their parents than their confidence? In the knowledge that their father and mother have always been good to them, distrust is far from their minds. Who could be a more perfect example of trust in God than Jesus Himself, appreciating as He did more than anyone else His Father’s power?

In the scenes of His early life, there is a calmness quite out of proportion to His years; as, for example, when He is teaching the Doctors in the temple. His explanations of the scripture must have been full of wisdom, otherwise the Priests would have ignored Him. It was in the temple some years later that Christ did not hesitate to turn over the money changer’s tables, even though He was in the thick of His enemies. This confidence goes with Him throughout His public life in such an outstanding way that it points constantly to His Divinity. When Jesus prayed before the grave of Lazarus, He thanked God that He had been heard and then continued, Yet I knew that Thou hearest me always. To the Apostles, when they heard His words about the difficulty of the rich man entering Heaven, and were in doubt whether anyone would be saved, He said, With men it is impossible, but not with God; for all things are possible with God. He accused the Sadducees of not knowing the scriptures nor the power of God. His confidence is brought out during the sufferings in the garden-Abba, Father, all things are possible to Thee. Earlier on that evening, we are given a further instance of His trust, for when the chief Priests tried to arrest Him He made them draw back. Thinkest thou that I cannot now pray to My Father and He shall presently give Me more than twelve legions of angels. It was necessary only that He should ask and His prayer would be granted. He did not hesitate or try to escape, but He proclaimed to those who came out against Him the trust He had in God, which, working through the power of prayer, was able to overcome any human force. A wish, and He could have had His enemies at His mercy.

If we are really earnest about our prayer we shall not neglect this all-important quality of confidence in God. Christ wants us to begin our prayer by addressing God as Our Father, and in this spirit of childlike confidence He wishes us to carry through all our dealings with Him. Let us not forget, also, that we are speaking to one who is more interested in us than we are ourselves, and who can do more for us in one moment than we could do in a thousand years. It would be an insult to God were we to turn our hearts to Him, while at the same time doubting His care for us or His ability to help us, Whereas, if we begin our prayer remembering the thought of St. Paul, I can do all things in Him who strengthens me, we shall be associating ourselves in spirit with Christ, and with Him, we, too, shall be able to give thanks to God for hearing us always.

Yet another quality of Our Lord’s prayer, showing us still more clearly how He prayed, is heroism. As we follow Him on those lonely vigils in the mountains, as we watch Him turn His eyes to Heaven when the people walk away with the words that His doctrines were too hard to believe, as He prays daily for the Apostles, and finally submits to the agony of the passion, praying without ceasing, what prayer can we imagine more heroic. This is a quality that we shall strive to introduce into our prayers; for if we are to persevere in our union with God we must be heroic. It is easy enough to pray at odd intervals, but it is no easy matter constantly to deny ourselves and overcome the inclination to comfort which hinders us from going down on our knees and recollecting ourselves. If we are really anxious to learn from Christ, we shall do this, If you would come after me, take up your cross daily and come follow me. Such are our Lord’s own words for those who wish to imitate His example.

How could His prayer have been anything but heroic when it was so strong that He willingly left every attraction to spend the night alone? Christ was as truly man as we are, and it was natural for Him to feel attracted by the company of men. Even more so was this true of Him, whose personality was so attractive that it was natural and easy for Him to become the centre of a group. Our Divine Master was far from being overcome by temptation to His Own glory, and night after night He rejected it to spend the hours in solitude with His Father. Considering that our Lord’s active life was so tiring, working all day, preaching, healing the sick, instructing His disciples, walking long distances, His prayer appears even more heroic. For He would have been tired after all these activities, and, humanly speaking, would have felt more like resting than spending the night in the prayer of God.

The very constancy of His prayer is an indication of how heroic it was. We have seen how He never missed an opportunity of giving us an example in this matter. From His strength let us draw our strength so that we shall be able to go alone to pray, and, as well, to pray frequently. Even if it seems to others that we are wasting our life by praying often, we may be assured that only in this way shall we find our true life of union with God. Did not Christ say, He who loses His life for My sake shall find it.

Our attitude to prayer must be that it is really the business of life; for what after all is more important to life or living than that we should know God. The best way to get to know God is to pray, to talk to Him as He wants us to, as a child speaks to its father and then listens to what it is told. If we know God in this way we shall certainly love Him, and from knowledge and love will flow perfect service.

One of the scenes that always comes to mind when we think of Christ and prayer, is His agony in the garden. This is the summit of His prayer. In it we find more clearly than in any other scene some of the most important qualities of His intercourse with God. Let us turn to it now, and see how it helps us to understand the heroic nature of His prayer.

The atmosphere of this scene is full of terror as His agony increases and His desolation becomes more intense. He had begun His suffering that evening with prayer, and in the garden He falls on His knees to continue. His thoughts are turned now, not to what He wanted the Apostles to do, nor to how He had done His Father’s will, but only to the sins of men. A little while before He said to His Apostles, Pray that you may not enter into temptation. Then, going away a few yards, He knelt down and began to pray. It was not the same consoling prayer that had filled His heart during His public work, nor the glorious prayer of His Transfiguration on Mount Thabor. But now the insults of all the centuries were brought together in all their fulness and foulness to terrify the man who was God. The mental agony of Jesus was so great that His sweat become as drops of blood running down upon the ground. Under that strain His prayer did not cease, for St. Luke tells us He prayed the more earnestly. Christ had persevered in prayer in all the difficulties of His life, but this trial was not like the others. It was the most terrible moment of all, and if He began to weaken now we would have had little cause to wonder. But such was the strength of Christ’s prayer that even when His mind could be taxed no further, and His body had already given way under the strain, He prayed the more earnestly.: Could we imagine greater heroism? We need go no further in seeking a standard by which to judge our own attempts to become intimate with God; for here He shows us that even the greatest suffering must be no obstacle to our efforts at praying; rather it will spur us on and our cross will help us to think only of Christ our model who being in agony prayed more earnestly. How often do we think it too much that the Church should ask us to pray every Sunday at Mass? Surely this is little enough when compared to the trouble our Master took to pray-when judged by the heroism of His prayer. No matter how difficult it is to think about our Father in Heaven, or how great the suffering that this same Father permits to come our way, we must continue in prayer and continue more earnestly as the weight of the cross increases. During His agony our Lord went three times to see if Peter, James and John were watching with Him, but each time He was disappointed, and, returning, bowed His head to the ground. He, too, could have fallen asleep for He was as tired as they, but unlike them, He was strong in His determination to do God’s will. Christ would have forseen the temptations which were to come our way when ease and pleasure would draw us from union with Him, so He gave us this perfect ex-ample. Who could have done more for us’ than Christ? Who was more deserving of rest than He? But to Our Lord prayer was more important than any amount of rest, And leaving them He went again and prayed a third time.

This quality of strength in prayer, proved so clearly by His perseverance on these occasions, brings out another point in Christ’s character, viz., His readiness or willingness to pray. There is never a suggestion of hesitation or indecision in Our Lord’s attitude to this sacred duty. He was eager to get away by Himself, to turn aside and pray for His Apostles, to intercede with His Father for those who asked His help. Just as He acted towards them by straight away doing what they wanted, so His prayer seemed to flow naturally from a heart full of love for His Father. It is usually so hard for us to work up any enthusiasm for our prayer that it will help us to watch Jess leaving the crowds or giving Himself completely to prayer for His chosen ones in the Supper-room, or going again to His place in the garden, His body weary but His heart anxious to accept the approaching cross and death. This willingness, which was so intimately bound up with His spirit of prayer, had been foretold by Isaias, He was offered because He himself wished it, and St. John records the words, I lay down My life because I have power to lay it down and to take it up again.

These are some of the qualities of Our Lord’s prayer. But the question naturally arises -why was His prayer so great; what was there about His prayer that put it on such a plane? What in a word was the central and most important characteristic providing the foundation on which these qualities rested? This is the question we must answer if we are to arrive at anything like a real understanding of the prayer of Christ. If we can discover this secret and set about acquiring it ourselves, we shall be well on the way to learning of Him, Who gave us an example that as He has done so we should do, and those qualities which we have seen, will begin to appear in our own prayer.

When Our Lord fell down on His face in the garden of olives, He gave us a most vivid example of how to pray. He showed us the perseverance which drove Him again and again to His knees-the heroism and strength which endured such suffering. Portrayed in this scene as well are the lessons of self sacrifice and attention. But also, He makes clear to us that submission to His Father’s will, which lay at the heart of all our Lord’s actions, and specially of His prayer. For it is those words, Not my will but Thine be done, which mark the climax of His converse with God, and the final act of a tortured man by which He accepted His passion and death for our Redemption.

For Christ this was His food and drink, To do the will of Him who sent Him. This was the rule of Christ’s life that Whatever pleased His Father He should do. During His days on earth nothing was to disturb the object set forth by His words in the Temple while He was yet a child, Do you not know that I must be about My Father’s business? The reason that had made the Second Person of the Blessed Trinity become man, the will of God remained with Him all the days of His life, even to His death on the cross, when He said, Father, into Thy hands I commend My spirit.

It was the first thought in all His actions. If they were in agreement with His Father’s will, then they were perfect. I and the Father are one, He said to His disciples, and just as there was this unity of nature in their Divinity, so in Christ’s actions was there complete conformity with the wishes of His Father. This singleness of purpose in His daily life was a reflection of the strong inner willing of all that God willed, which lay at the very root of His prayer. In spirit and in truth, in the life of His soul, our Lord submitted Himself continually to God’s will; and, as a result, in His daily life He did nothing that was not pleasing to His Father.

In the agony in the garden we find this note in all its fullness. This night was the completion of all those long vigils that He had spent on the mountain sides, of all those lonely hours when He had gone away by Himself simply to pray. For now when His bitter passion was being plotted by the High Priests, Our Lord Took with Him Peter, James, and John and went, as He was accustomed to the garden of olives, and, falling on His knees, He prayed. Jesus knew all that was to befall Him, but He did not turn away from His agony. Rather, He turned to prayer. As He bows down for the last time, we can ask ourselves what form did His prayer take. Surely if we can lift the veil now, as He kneels there covered in a perspiration of blood, we shall uncover the secret of His prayer. Surely here, if nowhere else in His life, will we see the spirit that animates the Son of God made man as He turns to the God who made His manhood. The answer is contained in those words which Saint Luke records, and kneeling down He prayed, saying, Father, if You wish it take away this chalice from Me; still not My will but Thine be done. Here is His prayer at its height, and what is it but a uniting of His will with God’s. Here is His whole purpose, here the secret of His life of prayer. When our Lord made this act of resignation it was certainly not a blind bowing to some vague fate, but a determined and reverent willing of what His Father desired. It was a strong act of the will bringing with it untold suffering, but done in the spirit of love and sacrifice. Christ was loving us then with greater love than anyone has ever had for us. He was loving His Father, too, and thinking of His glory and the praise that all creatures would render God through the merits of His own act of submission.

It may seem simple enough that Christ should say, Not My will but Thine be done, but when we think of the immense suffering it entailed, and think, too, of who this suffering Person was, we get some idea of what it meant.

It was not, however, as if our Divine Lord was accepting God’s will for the first time; but because He was constantly guided by it, He was able to do whatever pleased His Father. It was on account of this union that He was able to leave His Mother and St. Joseph and stay behind to instruct the teachers of the law in the temple. Because of this same union in prayer, He overcame all the difficulties of His life in Nazareth. Then when He went out to preach, and bring His message of love to the Jews, it was His inward attachment to the will of God that was the driving force of His actions. This same attachment was developed and perfected in our Lord’s prayer. To grasp this force which flowed into all His actions is to see the reasons of His life as He tells us Himself in John: 14–31, as the Father has given Me commandment so do I.

Just as for our Lord, the guiding principle was the will of His Father, so, too, for us must this be our rule in all things. If we follow it we shall quickly become other Christs. Our Divine Master wants us to pray-to pray frequently and with perseverance. What greater honour can we give Him than to follow His example in our efforts to please God. We know how delighted a parent is when a child copies his good example; but we cannot appreciate how it must delight the Sacred Heart when He sees us trying to pray as He prayed. When His Apostles asked Him to teach them how to pray, He did not tell them to go away and discover it by their own efforts, but He put on their lips the words of His own prayer . . . Thy will be done on earth as it is in Heaven. We shall not be able to do what God wants nor pray as He wishes, unless in our prayers we, too, desire to do His Holy will.

It is in this constant acceptance of all that His Father asked that lies the secret of the strength and confidence of His prayer. We know now just how strong it was and how this confidence was able to overcome all obstacles. The explanation of this power is easy to see when we keep in mind that He came down from Heaven not to do His own will but the will of Him Who sent Him. God is omnipotent, and because Christ’s prayer was always directed in perfect harmony with the will of God, it was able to do all things. He never asked a favour of God in vain, even when it was a question of restoring life to the widow’s son at Naim or to Lazarus.

St. Paul said that He could do all things in Him who was His strength. Even more truly Christ could say that His was the strength of God, for in His prayer He bowed His will to that of His Father. It was a submission-not my will, but a submission that resulted in perfect power, but Thine be done. Christ’s prayer, therefore, could work miracles through the power of God because He wanted only what God wanted, and whatever God wishes will be brought about. Christ’s prayer was supremely confident because He knew that with God all things are possible. Knowing that God’s delight is to be with the children of men, His prayer was generous. Our Lord promised us that our prayers also would share in such greatness when He said, If you ask the Father anything in My name He will give it to you. If we pray in the name of Jesus, which means with our wills resigned to His, then we will have complete confidence. St. Matthew records our Lord’s words, If you shall say to this mountain, arise and hurl thyself into the sea, it shall be done . . . all things whatever you ask for in prayer, believing you shall receive. For our Lord’s own part it is impossible even to conceive a prayer dissociated from His Father’s will. . . . what pleases Him I always do. So it was that as He stood before the grave of Lazarus He thanked His Father for always hearing Him. In that scene appears one of the best examples of what resulted from this uniformity of interests. There, as Christ is faced with the greatest terror that can befall us, He does not hesitate, but in simple clear words bids Lazarus arise from the tomb. Still His was the power that controlled more than the mere material universe, as when He healed the sick or restored sight to the blind, for He was supreme also over the life of the soul. He had power to restore man’s soul to his body, and what is even more wonderful, He was able to forgive them their sins.

With God all things are possible, and with us, too, all things will be possible if our strength rests on Christ and if our wills are united to His. He prayed as He did in the garden that we might have an example-He gave the Apostles the Our Father that they might treasure it and use it as their daily prayer. He wished their prayer to be directed to the glory of God as we learn from the opening sentences, Our Father Who art in Heaven, hallowed be Thy name, Thy Kingdom come; but He wanted them to have no doubt that the best way to bring about His Father’s glory was to accept the will of this same Father, Thy will be done . . . It came before all their earthly needs more important than their daily bread-than anything else; so that just as perfectly as it is carried out in Heaven, His will should be fulfilled on earth.

This was His teaching to them, and how could He have proved more clearly that this was what He meant than by those words in the garden Not My will but Thine be done. If we would wish to imitate our Divine Model and become like Him, it will be necessary for us to appreciate the importance He attaches to this submission. Then our union with Christ will become more intimate for whosoever shall do the will of My Father in Heaven, he is My brother . . . As the great St. Theresa wrote, All that should be sought for in the exercise of prayer is conformity of our will with the Divine will; assuredly in this consists the highest perfection; He who excels most in this practice will receive the greatest gifts from God, and will make most progress in perfection.

WHY DID CHRIST PRAY?

This is the third question which comes to our minds as we try to fathom the depths of the prayer of Christ. Why did He want to exercise this virtue at all, for surely the Son of God, being Divine, had no need of prayer as we know it? Why did He humble Himself to fall on His knees, when He realised perfectly that He and the Father are one, and that everything belonging to the Father is His. Nevertheless, the fact is that Christ did pray, as we have already seen, and He prayed with such constancy and self-sacrifice that He has left us no doubt about the quality of His prayer. It remains now only that we should examine the reasons which prompted our Saviour to give so much attention to this sacred duty.

Glory to God in the highest, was the song the angels sang as they surrounded the Infant lying in the manger at Bethlehem, providing with these words the most suitable setting for the Incarnation. Mystery and majesty, simplicity and poverty-all the elements that combined to make this first Christmas morning were all to give Glory to God in the highest. The angels voiced the theme that was to accompany Jesus throughout His life on earth. The Word was made Flesh and dwelt among us; but to what purpose? To give glory to the God of all creation, to praise Him and bless His Holy name. This was the very object that provided the motive for Christ in His prayer, for above all else, He prayed that His Father might be glorified.

After the Last Supper our Lord raised His eyes to Heaven and said, Father . . . Glorify Thy Son, that Thy Son may glorify Thee. He prayed for His own glory, but only that by it His Father should be glorified the more. All His life He had thought and acted, and we have no doubt prayed, with His mind on the glory of God. At the beginning of His public mission, when He was tempted by the devil in the desert, Christ showed a complete disregard for displaying His own power and glory. He refused to be led by Satan to turn the stones into bread or to cast Himself down from the temple, as St. Matthew relates in his fourth chapter. Asked by His disciples why a certain man was born blind, He told them that The works of God were to be made manifest in him. Not His own works, notice, but the works of His Father. About the same time He said, If I glorify Myself My glory is nothing-always disregarding Himself that the Father may be glorified in the Son. We find another example of this when the passion was beginning and the Priests and soldiers were coming to take Him away. Our Lord chose to be treated as a common criminal, even though He could have entreated His Father and He would have furnished Him with more than twelve legions of angels. How could Christ have prayed otherwise than for His Father’s glory when His actions were so completely animated by this idea. The angels had sung the hymn of praise in His name at Bethlehem, and as He grew up and spent His youthful years in the little peaceful town of Nazareth, we can imagine how He would have spent many hours in praising His Heavenly Master.

In the “Our Father” Christ taught the Apostles, and through them all Christians, to make the praise of God the chief object of their prayers. Our Father Who art in Heaven, hallowed be Thy Name. He wanted them to begin their prayers in this way so that they would always remember what was the reason for their turning to God. We were made to be happy with God in Heaven and it is by our union with Him and the glory we will give Him that our happiness will be brought about. In searching for happiness now, it is just as important to keep in mind the glory of God, and to ask ourselves whether what we are doing is pleasing to God. Especially in our prayers should this come first, even before any thought of our own virtue or the increase of Grace in our souls. We shall quickly begin to imitate Christ in our daily life, and, like Him, do everything that the Father may be glorified in us, if in our prayer we are guided by His example.

Christ prayed as one who knew not sin and in whom no deceit was found. It was natural, therefore, that His prayers should be for the most part not petitions but acts of praise and thanksgiving. As He stood before the grave of Lazarus He prayed, Father. I give Thee thanks that Thou hast heard me. When He rebuked the lepers whom He had cured for not returning and thanking Him, Our Lord said, has no one been found to return and give glory to God except this foreigner? In the act of instituting the Eucharist, He thanked God for the great gift He was about to leave with us, and taking a cup and giving thanks He gave it to them. This spirit of thanksgiving is very often absent from our prayers. We do not neglect to thank a friend who has given us a present. But when we turn to God, who already has given us more than we can ever hope to repay, we seem to forget that He too, deserves to be thanked for what He had given us. Christ expected the lepers to come back and thank Him; in His own prayers He did not neglect to teach us this same lesson, so we can be sure that we shall be pleasing to Him when we, in our turn, pray so as to thank God for His goodness.

Another reason why Christ prayed, and one that frequently occurred during His life, was that He might intercede for His followers and friends. We have seen how, in His temptations He refused to ask any personal favour of His Father. On the night before He chose His Apostles He prayed for them, and it was on the occasion of another vigil, the vigil of His passion, that He gave us the best example of His prayer for others. He prayed, on that night, that God the Father would send them another Advocate to dwell with them for ever. He prayed especially for St. Peter, on whom His Church was to rest, but I have prayed for thee, that thy faith may not fail. Finally, towards the end of His prayer after the Last Supper, Jesus said, I pray for them . . . Holy Father, keep in Thy Name those whom thou hast given me, that they may be one even as we are. I pray that thou keep them from evil, sanctify them in Thy truth. It is in this beautiful prayer that we have the finest example of our Lord going out of His way to intercede for those He loved. Again, we notice that there is no question of asking His Father to lessen the sufferings of the passion, then so fast approaching. Even when our Lord seems to be praying for Himself, as later on during that Holy Thursday evening in the garden, it was really not His own glory but the will and glory of His Father that He was seeking. This, then, should be an example for us who are so self-centred and rarely go beyond petitions for our own needs. If anyone had a right to pray for Himself it was Christ on this occasion, but during His Priestly prayer as St. John records, His thoughts remained fixed on His Father’s glory, and the good of His Apostles.

How often do we think of the reasons why we pray, or of the fact that our prayers should be above all for the glory of God? Are we like the publican who fell on his knees afar off and beat his breast, or do we resemble the Pharisee, who prayed so as to be seen by men. If we seek first the Kingdom of God and His glory in our prayers, as well as in our actions, all else shall be given to us. The importance of this cannot be stressed too much, for it is the condition of our receiving help from God. It was not over-looked by our Lord in His prayer, so if we are continually asking God to give us our daily bread, and support us in our needs, while at the same time neglecting our duty of praising Him, we shall not be praying as He wishes.

Learn of me , said Christ on one occasion, for I am meek and humble of heart. We might equally well apply to Him the words: LEARN OF ME, FOR I HAVE PRAYED SO THAT YOU MIGHT UNDERSTAND THE IMPORTANCE OF PRAYER, THAT YOU MIGHT KNOW WHEN TO PRAY, HOW TO PRAY, AND WHY YOU SHOULD PRAY. Nothing which Christ said or did was in vain; everything contains a lesson for us, and few lessons are as important as that of prayer. Another reason, therefore, why Christ prayed was to give us an example that as He had done so we also might do. He taught us the importance of prayer by His constant insistence on it, and more especially by His own life of prayer. According to Christ, we ought constantly to pray and not lose heart. Nothing can be more certain than that He Himself did not miss an opportunity of raising His heart to God. By His prayer He taught His Apostles that in the life of union with God lay the real source of success. Christ appreciated the super-human task which lay before Him as He left His home in Nazareth to begin His public life, but never once did His steps falter, never once did He lose confidence in the power of His Heavenly Father. His prayer could accomplish all things because in it His will was one with the will of God. Without ceasing, He prayed to show us that if we want our voice to be heard in Heaven we must pray, not now and again, but constantly. He prayed, moreover, to impress on us the fact that He was a man like us-that His human nature was real, and that He, too, had a human will. He proved for us that in the dedication of that will to Divine pleasure lies the essence of Sanctity.

To become holy as Christ was holy is the chief purpose of our lives, for in holiness which is union with God, consists our only lasting happiness. As St. Augustine said, Thou hast made us for thyself, O Lord, and our hearts are restless till they rest in Thee. In our efforts towards this union one of the most important things is prayer, and now that we have seen our Divine Master’s attitude, we shall be able to make greater advances towards our goal. In Christ we have the WAY we are to follow, the LIFE from which we are to draw our life, and the TRUTH, bringing with it peace and contentment.

In these days, it is more important than ever before to pray well. The world with its lust for money and power and its childish craving for amusements has cut God out of its life and returned to primitive paganism. The world has no room for prayer, no thought of praising God or of thanking Him for life, no idea of intercourse with a loving Father who has created us and who is interested in everything we do. Against this downward tendency of material values it is necessary to oppose all the spiritual strength we can command. Our prayer, a powerful means of building up this strength, will be fashioned after the example of Christ, for in Him, with Him and through Him, we shall live and pray, until we have received of His fullness and we can say with St. Paul, I live, now not I, but Christ lives to me.

Nihil Obstat:

F. MOYNIHAN,

Censor Deputatus.

Imprimatur:

@ DANIEL MANNIX,

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis ********

Christ In The Home 1

BY RAOUL PLUS, S.J

A TRANSLATION FROM THE FRENCH

INDEX

TO JESUS, MARY, AND JOSEPH

THE HOLY FAMILY -THAT THEY MAY OBTAIN FOR THE WORLD THE GRACE OF MANY FAMILIES

WHO KEEP CHRIST IN THE HOME

PREFACE

A HOME ruled by the spirit of Christ is a happy home. It is also a school of virtue directed to spiritual transformation in Christ.

But Christ does not force His entry into a home. He enters only by invitation. He remains only when evidently welcome.

It is the wise bride and groom who let Him know by their spiritual preparation for marriage that they want Him to accompany them from the altar of their vows into the home they are about to establish. It is the wise husband and wife who let Him know they want Him always present by striving to put on His mind and to establish their family according to His principles.

In such a home, husband and wife and children will enjoy gladness of heart, happiness in the fulfillment of duty, and intense union of souls.

The strength and honor of the family come above all from within, from union with Christ which gives power to manifest in daily living the beautiful family virtues of patience, energy, generosity, forbearance, cheerfulness, and mutual reverence with their consequent effect of peace and contentment.

This book is an invitation to the married or those about to marry, to spend the interior effort required to unite them solidly in Christ and to make them worthy transmitters of the Christ-life to their family. It is an invitation to fulfill the high purpose of their marriage which is to help each other to sanctity and to rear saints for heaven; to possess Christ themselves as completely as possible and to give Christ to their children.

Now sanctity is the result of personal cooperation with grace. It is no passive attainment. Equally true is it that spiritual truths and principles merely known but not realized are of little force in stimulating spiritual energy and effort. Consequently this book of spiritual readings makes no attempt to present fully developed meditations. It is not to be a substitute for personal reflection and prayer. Its various topics are presented as points of departure into deeper realms of thought and prayer; by the personal following through of the ideas offered, conviction and realization will be achieved and lives transformed. A stronger bond of communication will be established between the soul and God resulting in real prayer and not prayers said. The affections made will be the outpouring of the individual’s response to God and not someone else’s pre-planned expression of what that response ought to be.

The essential thing is to talk over the subjects with God. It is important then to enter into His Presence before each reading by a reverent act of recollection; to beg His light to see the truth and His strength to act on conviction and realization. It is important to see; it is more important to will.

The points offered for prayerful consideration are not meant to carry the reader into the clouds of elevated speculation and theory but rather to direct the soul to study prayerfully the daily, common, routine elements of his life in order to lift them out of possible monotony and deadening repetition into the challenging and absorbing adventure of making them divine.

This book in no way presumes to replace what should be for all Christians the two essential meditation books-the Gospels and the Missal. In fact, it presupposes that its readers are Christians accustomed to live in the spirit of Our Lord’s life according to the rhythm of the liturgy. It endeavors to provide variety and to bring into practical application some of the lessons hidden in the Gospels or the Missal.

Of vital importance is it, no matter what the meditation book, to draw from the little that one reads a maximum of nourishment for the soul. That is not impossible. All one need do is to beg God for His grace and to co-operate with the grace that He gives.

Such a manifestation of good will is a sincere invitation to Christ and a convincing proof that He is welcome in your life.

CHRIST WILL ENTER YOUR HOME

HE WILL REMAIN TO DWELL WITH YOU

INTRODUCTORY READINGS

THE SAINT OF MODERN TIMES

FORMERLY when people dreamed of sanctity or even of the interior life, they aspired to one thing only-to get away from the world, to go off to the desert, or at least to the priesthood or the religious state. To become a saint in the world, to acquire a true and profound union with God in the world, to exercise oneself in the practice of complete abnegation, and to pursue perfection in the world seemed scarcely possible.

People are beginning to realize better that there is such a thing as sanctity in the world.

We honor those who follow a priestly vocation or a consecrated life in religion. They have chosen the better part which will not be taken from them.

But are we to conclude therefore that the laity, because they live in the world, because they have entered the married state, must be content with a cheaper view of perfection? Must assume that the practice of the highest virtues is not for them? That they may not aspire to divine union and the secret joys of a valiant fidelity inspired by love?

Fortunately there are many who realize the falsity of such a conclusion. Saint Francis de Sales challenged the laity to strive for high sanctity.

“The world of today longs to contemplate the saint of modern times who will take his place beside the ancient and venerable figures of our history,” observes Rademacher, the author of”Religion and Life.” “It demands the saintly man of the world who unites harmoniously in his personality all the aspects of a noble humanism established on correct values, entirely impregnated with a living faith, a strong love of God, and a supple, joyous participation in the life of the Church. . . . There ought to be even now on this earth a type of saintly employee, saintly merchant, saintly industrialist, saintly peasant, saintly wife, saintly woman of Christian culture and refinement. The saint’s role in the world today is to be the pioneer of the new family, of the new State, of the new Society, of the new humanity, of the Kingdom of God which is always new.”

No profession is of itself an obstacle to holiness. No state of life is an obstacle; and marriage, if rightly understood, not only demands holiness but leads those who fulfill all its requirements to true sanctity.

In trying to picture what the saint of the next centuries should be, Foerster, a Protestant author, did not hesitate to write:”Just as in former times the saint was characterized by his courage to confess his faith and die a martyr, since he held faith to be his highest ideal for which he must be willing to suffer; just as the saint of the Middle Ages and even of our own day, has been characterized by virginity, since then and now, and especially in our times, it requires a struggle to conquer many temptations to preserve personal purity; so perhaps the saint of the centuries to come will be the perfect wife or husband, since the vital ideal for which we should willingly suffer today is the sacredness of marriage.”

There is much truth in these words. It may be though that the age of martyrs is not so far distant as the author would have us believe. And consecrated virginity, thank God, continues to hold a strong appeal for many souls. But is Foerster not pathetically correct in stating that saints in married life, in conjugal fidelity, are a crying need of our age to counteract the attacks on the family and notably the attacks on the indissolubility of marriage?

What thirst consumes me as I begin this book of spiritual readings? Is it the thirst for sanctity? How far am I willing to go?

Let me gauge the measure of my desire, of my sincerity.

SANCTITY OF THE LAITY

THE author of the so-called”Precepts of Contemporary Philosophy” may have been trying to be witty when some years before the war broke out in 1939 he wrote the following comment on sanctity:

“ Sanctity: An idolistic word no longer having any more than historical interest. Civil and military society has preserved its heroes; religious society has lost its saints or, if any more of them remain, we no longer hear them mentioned. . . . The age of great Christian fervor has indeed passed away. . . . Without wanting to appear sacrilegious, I believe that the Catholic faith would have difficulty finding martyrs thoroughly convinced of their faith and ready to sacrifice themselves for it even to death.”

True, heroic virtue is rare and where it does exist, it makes so little noise! How much real sanctity there is! Sanctity which may never be officially canonized but real just the same: the sanctity of a doctor who spends himself for the love of God and for the suffering members of Christ without counting the cost; the sanctity of a servant who lives her life of obedience and continual renunciation humbly and in a supernatural spirit-multiple types of sanctity, hidden and unknown but effective and a delight to the Heart of God. We should of course like to see sanctity more widespread, but we must not deny what already exists.

Furthermore, opportunities for martyrdom are not of general occurrence, and sanctity adorned by the martyr “s palm is not the only kind of sanctity. As Rene Bazin so truly wrote:”Men do not seem to recognize the sacrifice of life unless it is made all at once.” Martyrdom by the little fires of hidden fidelities constantly adhered to, of tormenting temptations courageously and perseveringly repulsed, of the exact and loving fulfillment of duties toward God and neighbor, of prayer faithfully practiced despite disgust, aridity and the pressure of work-is it not a martyrdom? Who can estimate the value of its countless offerings which are not publicized but which cost . . . and which count!

The amount of sanctity in the world today is not the essential problem; the important question is how much there ought to be, what the needs of the world demand, what the glory of God and Christianity well understood require.

Speaking one day with a group of cardinals, the Holy Father Pius X put this question to them:

“In your opinion, what is the most vital need for the salvation of society?”

“To build schools,” answered one cardinal.

“No.”

“To build more churches,” suggested another.

“No again.”

“To increase the number of priests,” said a third.

“No, no,” replied Pius X.”All those things are important, but what is most necessary at present is to have in every parish a group of lay people who are very virtuous, very determined, enlightened in their faith and who are true apostles.”

Let us consider now just the two words “virtuous” and”determined.”

The Holy Father said”virtuous”-”very virtuous” and he was speaking of lay people.

DO I BELONG TO THAT NUMBER OF VIRTUOUS LAY PEOPLE?

“What luck not to be a saint!” Doctor Vittoz of Lausanne used to say,”For then I can exert myself to become one!”

Pius X had good reason to add the word”determined” to the word”virtuous.” Is my resolution to reach high sanctity resolute, determined?

FANTASY OR SACRED DUTY

IN his interesting book,”Man the Unknown,” Alexis Carrel makes this statement:

“Each individual is set by the conditions of his development upon the road which will lead him either to the solitary mountains or to the mud of the swamps where humanity contents itself.”

If not rightly understood, this statement might imply that, by a sort of pre-established harmony over which we have no control, we are inevitably directed in spite of ourselves either toward the heights or toward the lowlands.

It could be that because of inherited tendencies, family traditions, examples we may have witnessed, or the training we have received, we are more strongly drawn either to laziness or to generosity. However, everyone has the duty on his own responsibility to make himself what he ought to be. The problem of salvation and the degree of sanctity to be attained is essentially an individual problem. We save ourselves or we damn ourselves; we conquer ourselves or we let ourselves be conquered-these are all personal verbs.

“Everyone has the duty,” that is the reality. It is not a matter of satisfying a fantasy, a more or less poetic taste for the heights. So much the better if the heights tempt me! So much the worse for me if I am the prey of a positive spirit of low ideals. I do not have to strive for the Christian ideal simply because of a certain forceful subjective attraction. No, I have an obligation to strive for it and this obligation springs from the Gospel command, a command given to all, Be ye perfect as your heavenly Father is perfect.

Am I perhaps too much in the habit of seeing in the Gospel only the restrictions it imposes upon me? Of viewing religion from the negative side? I must accustom myself to consider the Gospel from the positive aspect-the call to sanctity. The capital problem for the Christian who wants to be a real Christian is not the problem of sin but the problem of perfection.

NOT TO FALL BACK!

Much more and much better-to rise.

In the”Journal of Salavin” by George Duhamel, Salavin laments in self-disgust,”How can one resign himself to being only what one is and how try to be other than what one is.”

Then he declares:

“After some indefinite time, I am going to go away.”

“And where are you going?”

“Nowhere.”

Evading-when it should be a matter of ascending.

For me as a Christian, the road is known. I know where to go. And the instructions are clear. Someone expressed them in three points:

1. To commit this year the least number of sins possible.

2. To acquire this year the most virtues possible.

3. To do to others the most good possible.

Here is a program that will not only avoid the abyss but lead to the heights.

MY PERSONAL VOCATION

NOTHING is more interesting and at the same time more stirring than to study my particular role in the eternal destinies of the world . . . what God from all eternity has planned for me . . . what kind of saint He wants me to be . . . by what combination and sequence of circumstances He established me where I am . . . all He has given me-a Christian country, a Christian family, a Christian education, numberless graces exterior as well as interior, the Sacraments, interior inspirations, invitations to mount spiritually-and then to discover in what degree He intends to use me to lead other souls to salvation and perfection.

Religion in spirit and in truth-what is it? It consists in participating in the very sanctity of God Himself in my own personal life, and in cooperating with God to bring grace into the lives of others and to help keep them to grow in the divine life.

There is no question then of eternity forcing its way into my existence without my opening the door to it; it permeates me from within in keeping with the freedom I give it.

Nor must I be aiming only at my own sanctification. I have the responsibility of souls, not only the souls of my own but of multitudes who are in some way connected with my soul. The salvation of the world depends in part on the saint that I become.

One author puts this thought very well.”Each being in the universe must act with the consciousness of having been chosen for a task that he alone can accomplish. As soon as he discovers what this task is and he begins to dedicate himself to it, he can be sure that God is with him and that He watches over him. Let him be full of confidence and joy! He is associated with the work of creation.” And we might add”with the work of redemption.” This ought to be a continual marvel to him that weak and sinful though he knows himself to be he is nonetheless called, unquestionably called, to an action of unique value, to the exaltation of the divine in himself and the propagation and the extension of the divine in humanity!

I ought to try to realize ever more deeply the tremendous significance of my personal vocation; to consider the degree and the kind of sanctity to which I am called; to measure the extent of the field where my zeal for souls is to labor-the family, the parish, the city. . . .

Everything in my life should be referred to God. As Saint Augustine said,”Totum exigit te qui fecit te, He from whom you received all things demands all.” I must therefore make the gifts He bestowed on me serve for His glory alone. I should not deny these gifts, nor store them away; on the contrary, I should exploit them, but for Him. To quote Saint Augustine again,”Let everything useful that I learned as a child be consecrated to Your service, O my God. Let it be for Your service that I speak, that I read, that I write, that I count!” He did not renounce the use of his mind, the exercise of his intelligence, the application of his profane sciences but he subordinated all to spreading the glory of God and extending his apostolate for souls.

I can be inspired to a like rule of life. I can use human gifts as well as divine gifts to attain the highest peak of my vocation. I am not what my neighbor is and my neighbor is not what I am. I have a role to fill and no one else but me can fill it.

I must know my capital and prudently determine my investments.

WHAT KIND OF SOUL AM I?

SOMEONE has said,”All beings receive the same light but all accept it unequally. Some are like white surfaces and they shed the light all about them; these souls have the most innocence. Others are like black surfaces and they enfold the light in their own darkness; these souls are like closed coffers. Then again some divide the light keeping part for themselves and reflecting the rest as do surfaces of variegated colors and, like these same colored surfaces, change the intensity of light and shadows according to the time of day; these are the most sensitive souls. There are others who like transparent surfaces let all the light pass through them retaining nothing of it; these souls are nearest to God. Some might be compared to mirrors in which all nature and the people who look at them never cease to see themselves and to reflect themselves; these souls are nearest us and their presence alone suffices to judge us. Some make us thing of prisms in which the white light is spread out into the rainbow colors of the spectrum. . . .”

IN WHICH CLASS DO I BELONG?

I need not indulge in morbid or vain introspection but try merely to get a clear view of God’s intentions concerning me. I know the Parable of the Talents. I must not envy the riches of another but determine exactly the capital that God asks me to exploit for His greater glory, for my own sanctification, for the good of all souls with whom my sanctification is bound up, from those nearest to me even to the most distant at the other end of the world. Tu quis es? “Who are you?” the judges asked Our Lord, Et quid dicis de teipso,”and what do you say of yourself?”

Who am I? The mystery of each personality! It is a mystery which even the most perfect and most intimate union with another personality cannot completely pierce, as for example in marriage. There is a limitless diversity in personalities, since God made all souls originally without ever copying any previous model. How delightful this variety is: rose, anemone, violet; an extraordinary medley, gradations without limit of cut or of color. . . .

Who am I? What are my resources? What are my good points? What are my faults? What is the color of my desires, the force of my will, the intensity of my religious need, my thirst for an integrated life, my Christian fervor, the value of my fidelity?

Who am I? That is a different question from what I say I am or what I give to understand that I am. No, I am not a hypocrite; I do not seek to deceive for the sake of deceiving. But I am like everybody else and, without wanting to, without directly saying it, I fix up the pages of my country’s history-I try to let myself be seen only under the most glorious aspects. People believe me to be better than I am. In any case they have a different opinion of me from what I really am.

Who am I? And what difference is there between what I am actually and what I let others discover of my person and my intimate self?

Saint Augustine prayed,”Lord, let me know myself, let me know Thee.” He desired nothing else. I want to make that my prayer too.

MARRIAGE

BEFORE EMBARKING (1)

WHOEVER desires to marry ought to prepare himself for that great step:

First of all, by preserving chastity.

Then, by praying much for his future home and family.

By preserving chastity: Whoever cannot see the need for this will not be likely to understand the need for anything. But one must be able to see the need for more than this, to desire more.

The practice of purity in its entirety involves not only the avoidance of serious wrongdoing harmful to the integrity of the body but also whatever sullies imagination, thought or desire. Consequently questionable companions, flirtations, and imprudent reading are out of the question. Custody of the eyes is essential. Death enters in through the windows of the body. Eve and David both sinned through their eyes.

For certain temperaments, such vigilance demands great generosity. No one can deny it.

“The good is more difficult than the evil,” wrote Paul Claudel in response to Jacques Riviere who had explained that to remain pure was difficult.”But there is a return. The good opens up before us incomparable horizons because it alone is in keeping with our reality, our nature, our life and our vocation. This is particularly true where love is concerned. How ridiculous the romantic fever of a purely fleshly love seems to me!”

Sensing the old classic objection in his correspondent, Claudel took the offensive:

“As for the emotional cramping Christianity imposes upon you, I can scarcely understand what you mean. When you speak of sins, I suppose you refer to sins of the flesh, because I cannot imagine that you have any tendency to drunkenness, avarice, acts of violence or similar things.

“The first answer to your difficulty is that when we become Christians, it is not for our pleasure or personal comfort, and further, if God does us the honor of asking sacrifice of us, there is nothing to do but consent with joy.

“The second answer is that these sacrifices amount to very little or practically nothing. We are still living in the old romantic idea that the supreme happiness, the greatest interest, the only delight of existence consists in our relations with women and in the sensual satisfactions we get from them. But we forget one fact, the fact that the soul, the spirit, are realities just as strong, just as demanding as the flesh-even more so; we forget that if we accord to the flesh everything it demands, we shall do so with the consequent loss of other joys, other regions of delight which will be eternally closed for us. We shall be draining a glass of bad wine in a hovel or in a drawing room and be unmindful of that virginal sea which stretches out before others under the rising sun.”

How splendidly Shakespeare has expressed the same thoughts:

WHAT WIN I, IF I GAIN THE THING I SEEK?

A dream, a breath, a froth of fleeting joy.

Who buys a minute’s mirth to wail a week?

Or sees eternity to get a toy?

For one sweet grape who will the wine destroy?

Or, what fond beggar, but to touch the crown, Would with the sceptre straight be strucken down?

(Rape of Lucrece, Stanza 31)

This is also what Saint Augustine has written in his own epigrammatic style: momentaneum quod delectat, aeternum quod cruciat. One instant of pleasure, an eternity of suffering. . . .

Let me examine my own soul. Have I come to marriage entirely chaste? Chaste in body? Chaste in thought? Chaste in heart?

If my answer is Yes, then I must thank God. It is a choice grace.

If my answer is No, then what can I do to make reparation, to obtain from God the grace of entire fidelity to my duty, from now on?

BEFORE EMBARKING (2)

IN addition to the preservation of chastity, the person aspiring to marriage has a second great duty-to pray much.

An old proverb wisely states, “Before embarking on the sea, pray once. Before leaving for war, pray twice. Before marrying, pray three times.”

And this necessity of praying more before marriage than before a voyage or a battle is evident for several reasons. Consider the risk of associating oneself closely with a creature who has many limitations; with a creature about whom one knows very little particularly in the matter of shortcomings, since during the period of courtship and betrothal one unconsciously does everything not to reveal himself; with a creature whom one loves with all one’s heart but who possesses not only lovable traits, but also faults which can cause suffering; with a creature who can bestow the greatest joy, but who can also unfortunately inflict the deepest pain.

Furthermore, in order to bear joys as well as possible trials, do we not need much help from God? And to obtain this help, must we not pray much?

Another reason for the necessity of such prayer when one desires to establish a home is that from a union once sanctioned by the Church and consummated there is no possible withdrawal. It is a choice which is definitely established. For two changeable human beings to dare to bind themselves to each other forever in a relationship so intimate as the realities of marriage, is not God’s sustaining help a prime requisite? And to obtain this help is it not necessary to pray much?

Has my life before marriage been one of sanctification and of prayer in preparation for my marriage? Or have I confided solely in the human merits existing on both sides and neglected to place under God’s protection the union I was about to contract?

If I have been neglectful, I must make up for it now. There is still time.

If, on the contrary, I prayed much before my marriage, I may not leave off earnest prayer now that I am married. The greater the place God holds in my life, the greater can be my assurance that my home shall be supernaturally happy and, without a doubt, humanly happy as well.

“To you, O Mary, my good Mother, I confide my marriage and my home. It seems that marriage is the means of sanctification destined for me by God as it is for the chosen soul whom you have given me.

“Together we shall do our best to glorify God-this is our firm resolution. Bless us, help us, strengthen us. Sailors call you Stella Maris. Be for us, too, the Star of the Sea and keep us safe throughout our crossing; we put under your care our vessel and its crew. You shall be the Queen on board ship.”

REQUISITES FOR A HAPPY MARRIAGE

FOR a happy marriage, it is necessary, of course, that the engaged couple find each other congenial and enjoy each other’s company.

They must agree to share loyally the joys and the sorrows of wedded union and fulfill its obligations.

Each one must be bent on procuring for the other as much happiness as possible and oblige himself beforehand to a mode of life which will disturb his partner as little as possible.

The husband must love his profession, and his wife should share this love or at least neglect nothing in order to respect and facilitate it.

They should be able to make their decisions together, not certainly without sometimes having recourse to the counsels of competent authorities, but with a beautiful and joyful independence of any member of the family who may be too prone at times to attempt to domineer over the young couple. There should, of course, be no presumption, no narrow aloofness, but a serene and supple liberty of spirit; serene and supple humility.

In order to be able to practice the sanctity of their state in all the details of their life, they must understand their duty of leaning upon God. It will not be sufficient to link together their two wills; they must be determined to pray to obtain help from on High.

They must likewise have a certain concern, a legitimate concern, for physical charm, without, however, losing sight of the fact that beauty of soul is superior to beauty of body; so that if some day the physical attraction should diminish, they will not be less eager to remain together, but each will strive to find in the other the quality upon which profound union is established.

Both of them must love children. They must develop in themselves to the best of their ability the virtues necessary for parenthood, the courage to accept as many children as God wants them to have and the wisdom to rear them well- difficult virtues requiring strong souls.

Each must be possessed of a rich power of cordiality for the members of the other’s family. Both must resolve to take their in-laws and their household as they find them, and adopt as a principle for their contacts with them, It was not to share hates but to share love that I entered into your family. Consequently, they must refuse to be drawn into family quarrels, seeking rather in all their actions to promote charity, union, and peace.

Even before their marriage, the young couple should decide to keep their expenses at a minimum, according to their situation, not with avarice or niggardliness, but with the desire to live in the gospel spirit of detachment from the goods of earth. Such judicious economy, which should of course be devoid of even the appearance of stinginess, will enable them to set aside something useful and necessary for their children. It will also enable them to relieve the misery around them.

It is to be assumed that both individuals contemplating marriage have the requisite health, since marriage has been created not only for mutual support but also to transmit life.

It is further to be assumed that each of the two has kept nothing of his past life hidden from the other, and that in view of this entire loyalty which is so desirable a trait in married couples, each has kept himself pure and refrained from dangerous experiences.

A PROPOSAL

LOUIS PASTEUR came from a family of modest means. When he was twenty-six years old, his astonishing discovery in regard to crystals drew upon him the attention of scientists.

In 1849, he was named assistant professor in the University of Strasbourg. The rector of the university, Mr. Laurent, had three daughters. Fifteen days after Pasteur’s first visit, he asked for Marie in marriage. The young scientist felt that this young woman understood life as he did and wanted the same kind of life he sought-a life of simplicity, of work, and of goodness. He sent this letter to Mr. Laurent:

“Sir, a request of great significance for me and for your family will be addressed to you in a few days and I believe it my duty to give you the following information which can help to determine your acceptance or your refusal.

“My father is a tanner at Arbois, a little city in the Jura region. My sisters keep house for my father since we had the sorrow of losing our mother last May. My family is in comfortable circumstances, but not wealthy. I do not evaluate what we own at more than ten thousand dollars. As for me, I decided long ago to leave my whole share to my sisters. I, then, have no fortune. All I possess is good health, a kind heart, and my position in the university.

“Two years ago I was graduated from 1”Ecole Normale with the degree of agrege in the physical sciences. Eighteen months ago I received my doctorate, and I have presented some of my works to the Academy of Science where they were very well received, especially my last one. I have the pleasure of forwarding to you with this letter a very favorable report about this particular work of mine.

“That describes my present status. As for the future, all I can say is that unless I should undergo a complete change in my tastes, I shall devote myself to chemical research. It is my ambition to return to Paris when I have acquired a reputation through my work. Monsieur Biot has spoken to me several times to persuade me seriously to consider the Institute. In ten or fifteen years I shall perhaps be able to consider it seriously if I work assiduously. This dream is but wasted trouble; it is not that at all which makes me love science as science.”

Could a more modest, more completely sincere letter ever be sent by a young man in love?

And when he addressed himself to Marie he assured her with touching clumsiness that he was sure he could hardly be attractive for a young girl, but just let her have a little patience and she would learn his great love for her and he believed she would love him too, for”my memories tell me that when I have been very well known by persons, they have loved me.”

But great as was his love for Marie, his heart was divided:

Louis Pasteur loved science, he loved his crystals. He began to scruple about it, and finally wrote to his fiancee, asking her”not to be jealous if science took precedence over her in his life.”

She was not jealous. Madame Pasteur married not only the man but also his passion for science. Her love had that rare quality of knowing how to efface itself, and to manifest itself precisely by not manifesting itself at all at times. She was a worthy companion of this great man, of this great scientist, of this great heart.

THE END OF LOVE?

A CERTAIN essayist makes this appalling statement:”What a sad age this is in which one makes his First Holy Communion to be through with religion, receives his bachelor’s degree to be through with studying, and marries to be through with love.”

Let us omit the first two statements from this consideration and take up the third.

IS IT TRUE THAT FOR SOME, MARRIAGE IS THE END OF LOVE?

That statement can be taken in different ways.

Some think that before marriage one can play at love. Then when the senses have been dulled, one shall try to find a companion for himself.”Youth must pass,” people say condescendingly on observing the looseness of young men. There are even certain pseudo-moralists who advise young girls not to marry before”deliberately having their fling as well as the boys”-advice which unfortunately some of them do not fail to follow.

This is an odious concept of love and marriage or of preparation for it. I certainly want none of it.

Again there are those who think that love is all well and good before marriage. As for marriage itself, it is first and foremost an investment. The problem is not so much to marry someone for whom one experiences a strong attraction, but rather to realize a good business deal. It is not the person one seeks, but the name, the status, the fortune. There is nothing of love in this. No, indeed, it is all a matter of interest: a concept equally as odious as the first, equally repellent.

What the author of the statement probably meant is that before marriage, the young man and woman are all fire and flame, and perhaps for a short time after marriage. Soon, or at least comparatively soon after marriage, they no longer speak of love. They have become two under the yoke-two bearing the necessary restraints of their united existences. Gone is the enchantment of betrothal days or of the early days of married life. There is nothing left but the grayish prose of humdrum existence with an individual of whom one has made a god or a goddess-a person who is after all only a poor creature.

A man, “a poor man who eats, drinks, wears shirts and drawers, and who loses his buttons,” as someone jokingly described him.”A man who will never be able to find anything in a dresser or clothes closet; who will never appreciate the cooking or the menu; who at night throws his clothes in a heap on a chair and the next morning complains that the creases in his trousers are not pressed in well enough; a man who formerly seemed like a knight, a magician, a prince charming, and whose bold gestures so commanding yet so delicate thrilled the heart and stirred one’s whole being, causing one’s imagination to crown him with the aureola of perfection,” and who now . . .

A woman, a poor creature indeed, perpetually thirsting for caresses even at the most inappropriate times; a woman who has foolish notions, headaches, fits of humor; who manifests a flare for spending which can never resist the appeal of any show window, particularly if there is an interesting clearance sale on; a woman who wants a wardrobe capable of ruining the most industrious man, the wealthiest husband-a poor sort of woman, indeed!

Is it not because of all these things, at least partially because of them, that Our Lord wanted to make marriage a rite giving divine graces-a sacrament?

Perhaps we have exaggerated the poetry of conjugal life; let us not now exaggerate the prose of life together.

As a preparation for this prose, which is always possible and often very real even in the most successful marriages, I shall aim to sanctify myself in the practice of charity and patience.

ONE ONLY BEING

“ LOVE seeks to escape through a single being from the mediocrity of all others.” This is the definition one author gives of love.

It is not a matter of reviewing all human beings with whom one comes into contact as if they were on parade, so that with methodical, rational, and cold discernment one might pick out the chosen man or woman. It is not a selection; the object of one’s desire attracts at once; it is just he or she; all the rest do not exist. As one writer put it, “Love is monotheistic.” There is no need at all of overthrowing idols; one pedestal alone stands, bearing the holy representation that the eyes feast upon and toward which the heart turns with an irresistible impulse.

Oh, the incomprehensible power of the heart in love promptly to divinize the poor reality it has chosen! Nothing else exists for it any longer! In the play”Asmodee,” by Mauriac, the heroine Emmanuelle, who had thought of religious life until she met Harry with whom she fell deeply in love at first sight, goes so far as to declare:

“You know when I used to hear a person say of someone,”He is everything for me,” I did not know what that meant. I know now. Our pastor tells me that husbands and wives love each other in God. I can’t understand that. It seems to me that if Harry were some day to be everything for me, then there would no longer be any room in my heart or in my life for anyone, not even for God.”

Aside from this particular example of Emmanuelle, there is some truth in those words; they emphasize a wellknown fact.

How many young girls during their engagement period, how many young wives in the months following upon their marriage, neglect the spiritual, overwhelmed as they are with human happiness! Previous to that time, all their love, all the need they felt for giving themselves was directed to divine realities. Their capacity for tenderness was showered upon Jesus and Mary; it was fed in Holy Communion.

Now another object engages all their concern. They must be vigilant that their piety does not diminish. Their needs have increased; it is not the time to decrease their cultivation of holiness. Doubtless, and above all in the case of a married woman, some spiritual exercises will not be possible; for example, daily Holy Mass and Holy Communion in certain cases will have to be sacrificed through fidelity to duty in their new state. But piety itself must not diminish as it so often does in a period of human happiness.

It is essential in the midst of marital joys, and above all in the joys preceding marriage or following immediately upon it, to strive to preserve a sense of balance and of true values. Love of God does not operate exactly as the attraction of creatures. In the one case, it is a question of an invisible reality; in the other, of a sensible reality. This last, even though closer and more accessible, never eclipses the first. Esteem as divine what is divine, and do not knowingly divinize or, more correctly speaking, transfigure to excess a creature, no matter how rich its gifts.

Remain if possible always in truth. Realize that God alone is God, and that every created being has its limitations. Strive to make your limitations and your mediocrity as little felt as possible and generously pardon the limitations and mediocrity of your companion for life.

The earth shall never be anything but the earth; it is untimely to try to make it heaven.

LOVE

Why does a woman desire a man? Why does a man desire a woman? What is the explanation of that mysterious attraction which draws the two sexes toward each other?

Will anyone ever be able to explain it? Will anyone be able to exhaust the subject?

One fact is certain: Even aside from the physiological aspect of the problem, the effeminate man does not attract a woman; she makes fun of him, finds him ridiculous. So too the masculine woman weakens her power of attraction for a man, and ends by losing it entirely.

The age-old spell which each sex casts upon the other is closely allied to the fidelity with which each exactly fulfills its role. If woman copies man and man copies woman, there can be comradeship but love does not develop. In reality, they are nothing more than two caricatures, the woman being degraded to the rank of a man and a second-rate man at that, and the man to the rank of a manikin in woman’s disguise. The more feminine a woman’s soul and bearing, the more pleasing she is to a man; the more masculine a man’s soul and bearing, the more pleasing he is to a woman.

We do not mean to say that between two poor specimens of either sex there will never be any casual or even lasting sexual appeal and experience. But we can hardly, if ever, call it love. If men and woman are no more than two varieties of the same sex, a sort of neuter sex, the force which creates love disappears. Normally, as we say in electrical theory, opposite charges must exist before any sparks will shoot forth. Bring into contact two identical charges and there will be no effect; electricity of opposite polarities must be used; then and then only will there be reaction.

In the realm of love, the general rule is the same. In fact, man and woman are two different worlds. And that is as it should be, so that the eternal secret which each of them encloses may become the object of the other’s desire and stimulate thirst for a captivating exploration.

That is love’s strange power. It brings two secrets face to face, two closed worlds, two mysteries. And just because it involves a mystery, it gives rise to limitless fantasies of the imagination, to embellishments in advance of the reality. So that

One finally loves all toward which one rows.

Whether that toward which one rows is an enchanted island or one merely believes it is, what ecstasy!

Comes the meeting, the consecration of the union by marriage; each brings to the other what the other does not possess. In the one, delicate modesty and appealing reserve; in the other, conquering bravery. A couple has been born. Love has accomplished its prodigy.

Yet, how true it is, that having said all this, we have said nothing. The reality of love is unfathomable.

Could it be perhaps because it is the most beautiful masterpiece of God?

THE PALACE OF CHANCE

A MODERN writer describes marriage as “having an appointment with happiness in the palace of chance.” Two persons are complete strangers to each other. One day they meet. They think they appreciate each other, understand each other. They encounter no serious obstacles; their social position is just about the same; their financial status similar; their health seems sufficient; their parents offer no objections; they become engaged. They exchange loving commonplaces wherein nothing of the depths of their souls is revealed. The days pass; the time comes-it is their wedding day.

They are married. In the beginning of their acquaintance, they did not know each other at all. They do not know each other much better now, or at least, they do not know each other intimately. They are bound together; possible mishaps matter little to them; they are going to make happiness for themselves together. It is a risk they decided to run.

That this procedure is the method followed by many can scarcely be denied.

Let us hope that we personally proceed with more prudence.

Upon the essential phases of life together, the engaged couple should hold loyal and sincere discussion. And in these discussions and exchange of ideas, each one should reveal himself as he really is, and let us hope that this revelation is one of true richness of soul.

To make a lover of a young man or young woman is not such a difficult achievement. But to discover in a young man before marriage the possibility, or better still, the assurance of a good husband who will become a father of the highest type, and in a young woman, the certain promise of the most desirable type of wife who has in her the makings of a real mother and a worthy educator-that is a masterpiece of achievement!

“ To love each other before marriage! Gracious, that is simple,” exclaims a character in a play,”they do not know each other! The test will be to love each other when they really do get acquainted.” And he is not wrong.

In keeping with his thought is the witty answer given by a young married man to an old friend who came to visit him.

“I am an old friend of the family,” explained the visitor.”I knew your wife before you married her.”

“And I, unfortunately, did not know her until after I married her!”

But even when a man and woman do know each other deeply and truly before marriage, how many occasions they will still have for mutual forbearance. It is necessary for them to have daily association with each other in order to understand each other; for the woman, to understand what the masculine temperament is; for the man to understand what the feminine temperament is. That may seem like a trifling thing; yet it goes a long way toward a happy marriage. To understand each other not only as being on his part a man and on her part a woman, but as being just such a man or just such a woman, that is to say, persons who in addition to the general characteristics of their species possess particular virtues and particular faults as a result of their individual temperaments—that requires rare penetration!

A home is not drawn by lot, blindly. A palace of chance! No, indeed. If we want to turn it into a palace of happiness as far as that is possible here below, we must above all things refuse to have anything to do with chance. We must know what we are doing and where we are going.

INFINITY PROMISED

“ ONE of the duties of husband and wife is to pardon each other mutually for not giving infinity after practically promising it.

How much each of them expects from the other, from this union hoped for, guessed, discovered, known and loved!

“Is it true, then, that the mystery of infinity is written upon this little forehead, which is all mine,” sighs the man with the Hindu poet Tagore.”You are half woman and half dream.”

And what a seraphim, what a dream prince and legendary hero she believes to be marrying, she whose imagination is livelier and more powerful in evoking imagery?

Ah, the sweetness of loving, the sweetness of being two to know The ineffable depths of the heart and its burning love’s glow, . . . To know all that a soul holds of power to feel, To understand the eyes” great force magnetic, fair, To sob softly-my forehead pressed against your hair Because I feel so small before Love which passes.

But even in the very moment of the embrace, how difficult- impossible even-to arrive at perfect unity; physical union can be achieved, but how delicate an attainment is union of souls! As an English novelist expresses it:

“The anguish of those who love is caused by their powerlessness to surmount the barrier of their individuality. Even in love we cannot escape from the eternal solitude of ourselves. We embrace without being able to be fused into one . . . We yearn to be but one and we are always two . . . We are frustrated as two birds would be who sought to be united through a pane of glass.”

Thus it is even when the two understand each other. In vain do they try to transfigure poor reality, seek to keep their idol more clearly before their vision, by closing their eyes, and by renewing marks of affection compensate for the infirmity of nature present in their very efforts at mutual tenderness; it still remains true that they always desire more than they possess; of what import is it that their substances intermingle if their consciences remain separated?

And what about those who only half understand each other or do not understand each other at all? Not only is their intimacy no mutual exchange, but their very cohabitation accentuates their isolation all the more. The poet, Anna de Noailles, who was unhappy in her married life, expressed this idea when she said,”I am alone with someone.”

It is a suffering for two who do not love each other to be together; it is a suffering to be together if they do love each other, because they never know if they embrace all they really believe they embrace. Berdyaev, the author of “The Destiny of Man,” expresses this suffering of love when he says,”If unreciprocated love is tragic, reciprocated love is perhaps even more so.”

How incorrect to think that there is no matter for renunciation in marriage!

THE NUPTIAL LITURGY

ORDINARILY there is very little recollection manifested at a wedding ceremony. It is just as if the congregation had no idea of the sanctity of the place or the grandeur of the event.

Yet, all is holy.

The priest begins “In the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost,” and prays that God may bless the two about to be married so that all may redound to the glory of His Name.

Then follows the exchange of consent accompanied by the rite of joining hands.

“The Lord be with you,” says the priest before blessing the ring . . .

And later,”Be unto them, O Lord, a tower of strength.” Can anything less than this Almighty protection suffice for the work of sanctification in their life together?

The Gradual of the Nuptial Mass invokes the blessing of fecundity upon the marriage.”Thy wife shall be as a fruitful vine on the sides of thy house. Thy children as olive plants about thy table.”

Marriage is not a union founded on chance or pure caprice; reason must control the glow of passion, and the union effected by marriage must be of such a nature that death alone can break it. The Gospel of Saint Matthew gives us Our Savior’s own words on this subject. In answer to the question,”Is it lawful for a man to put away his wife for every cause,” Christ answered very definitely, No, and quoted the Scripture text,”They shall be two in one flesh.” Then He made it more emphatic by adding,”What therefore God hath joined together, let no man put asunder.”

At the Pater Noster of the Nuptial Mass, the priest does something he never does in any other Mass. He interrupts the Sacrifice, permits the Body and Blood of Christ to lie upon the altar, and turning, calls down a new benediction of God upon the bride and the groom. He recalls how the Most High God has watched over the sacred institution of marriage from the beginning of the world, to keep it intact in spite of the frailty of humanity. The rest of the prayer besides referring to the examples of faithful wives of the Old Testament-Rachel, Rebecca, Sarah-implores rich graces for the bride.

“O God, by whom woman is joined to man, and that fellowship which Thou didst ordain from the beginning is endowed with a blessing which alone was not taken away either by the punishment for the first sin or by the sentence of the flood; look in Thy mercy upon this Thy handmaid;

True and chaste let her wed in Christ . . .

Let the father of sin work none of his evil deeds within her . . . Let her be true to one wedlock and preserve inviolable fidelity;

Let her fortify her weakness by strong discipline;

Let her be grave in demeanor and honored for her modesty.

Let her be well taught in heavenly love;

Let her be fruitful in offspring.”

The priest continues the Mass and receives Holy Communion. The bride and groom should also receive the Body and Blood of Christ during this Nuptial Mass. The rubrics of the missal call for it expressly. The ideal then is to communicate not at an earlier Mass but during the Nuptial Mass itself, which nothing, not even the early hour of the day, can prevent from being solemn.

Before the Last Blessing, the priest speaks once more to the newly married couple as if he could not tire of blessing them before their great departure:

“May the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac and the God of Jacob be with you, and may He fulfill His blessing in you: that you may see your children’s children even to the third and fourth generation, and afterwards may you have life everlasting, by the grace of Our Lord Jesus Christ: who with the Father and the Holy Spirit liveth and reigneth forever.”

THE WEDDING DAY

WHAT a marvel of grandeur and of poetry is the nuptial liturgy! The Church, full of solicitude for the two daring young souls ready to launch out on the voyage of life, is eager to prepare them as seriously and as solidly as possible, to put before them essential principles, and to petition God to take this holy couple under His especial care, and conduct it to the great eternal family after their life of reciprocal love and confiding generosity.

Is it any wonder that such a noble and meaningful ceremony should bring to mind the First Mass of a newlyordained priest?

Unfortunately, the worldly trappings that often accompany the marriage celebration detract considerably from the sacred atmosphere of the event. Particularly true is this of the banquet which is generally a part of the celebration.

The Church has nothing against wholesome joys, particularly family feasts to commemorate an outstanding occasion in life; but she certainly does not approve of the carousings for which wedding banquets are so frequently the excuse, or the tone of certain parties held in connection with weddings. Could anyone imagine an ordination to the priesthood celebrated in such a fashion?

After the Nuptial Mass, the world takes over, there are the congratulations, the general stir to get into the line of march in order to see and be seen; there is not a minute for prayer, for recollection, for thanksgiving. The world, even during the Mass as well as after it, assumes control of the couple and their family. Events following the marriage ceremony do nothing to correct these concessions to the world. Does it not seem reasonable that when the fundamental interests of the family are impeded by the worldly spirit, the family should do everything in its power to escape from it?

There are those who understand this: Sodalists, the Jocists, members of Catholic Action groups or similar organizations, even previous to the war, wanted to break away from these pagan practices. It is not a matter of seeing in the holy place only the Church vestibule or the Church lobby. No, no, the church is the house of God. Let everything there be holy and all that is done there be done holily, the founding of the family more than anything else!

Those groups who recognize the sanctity of the marriage ceremony have set the example of communicating at their Nuptial Mass; they have suppressed boisterous and giddy celebrations. In the same spirit they decided to delay their departure for their honeymoon and postpone the distractions it entails; so beneficial is it to remain in prolonged recollection during their first days together. They remember to make their union of souls predominate. Therefore, together they restrain themselves and by mutual accord embrace sacrifice.

Saint Paulinus, a renowned lawyer of Bordeaux, who renounced a worldly life when he was at the height of success, and with his wife retired into the city of Nola in Campania, wrote these significant lines:

Concordes animae casto sociantur amore;

Virgo puer Christi, virgo puella Dei. which mean:”Let these souls who are one heart and soul be united in a chaste love; he, a virgin, a son of God; she, a virgin, a daughter of God.”

Why not secure for these two splendid baptized souls, these two virgin souls, whom marriage has united forever, a departure worthy of them?

TOTAL UNION

IN”Les Vergers humains,” Louis Lefebvre has this charming verse in which the poet addresses his wife: I speak to God most often in my verse;

I speak to my own destiny;

I speak to my own son;

WITH EVERY LIVING BEING, I CONVERSE

But I speak not to you; you are myself; we are but one.

There are other exquisite examples of such perfect union between husband and wife realized not only in poetry but in the prose of everyday life.

See this husband and wife seated before the fireplace watching the play of the flames.

“What are you thinking about?” queries the wife.

“And you?”

“The same thing you’re thinking of.”

Idyllic, some will say. And why not, just as truly, an exact description?

Then there is the example of another couple so completely in accord at all times that the husband one day playfully petitioned his wife, “Contradict me sometimes, so that we can be two.” These two fulfilled to the very letter the statement of the Bible,”They shall be two in one flesh.” They were one, not only in their flesh, but one in a communion of thought and opinion. They had become so thoroughly one that they forget to be two.

This could be an evil if it meant the weakening of one of the two personalities to the point of absorption by the other. Some women when first married are in such adoration before their husbands or the husbands are so infatuated with their wives that unity is effected, but it is a unity through suppression and narrowness. God grant, however, that such a unanimity never be replaced by the less happy state wherein each one clings tenaciously to self-assertion. What should be sought is unity through mutual enrichment in mutual understanding.

In some marriages this unity becomes so complete that not even death can break it. Such, for example, was the union between Queen Astrid and King Leopold III, or between Mireille Dupouey and her husband, a naval officer killed in 1915. During the seventeen years Mireille Dupouey lived after her husband’s death, she continued to write letters to him as if he were still living, and to set a place at table between herself and her son for her dear departed who was forever present to her, forever one with her.

In contrast to these families where union is complete, how many there are in which dispute rages permanently; or, if not dispute, at least misunderstanding, constant bitterness.

It has been said and truly said that it is not easy for a man and woman, two poor human beings, finite, limited, and possessed of individual faults, to spend cloudless days together.”A woman must take much upon herself, to live with a man, whoever he may be,” writes a moralist.”A man must take much upon himself to live with a woman even though she be most loving. How many perplexities between them, how many veiled enmities even in their most evident caresses! How many half-consented-to abdications on both sides!”

But live together they must. How can they achieve as perfect a harmony as possible?

Day after day they must seek it, study, meditate, resolve and act!

THE FOUR BONDS OF CONJUGAL UNION

THE four bonds of conjugal union are the bond of consciences, the bond of intellects, the bond of souls, and the bond of hearts.

The bond of consciences: This means that husband and wife must have the same norms for judging between right and wrong. Is it not only too clear that if they do not have an identical point of view in their appreciation of God’s law, a fundamental disunity will be introduced into the very foundation of their unity? If one, for example, holds to the principle of free love while the other advocates the principle of unity in marriage, can there be complete communion? Or if one is determined to abide by the demands of the moral law in the difficult duty of procreation while the other has no intention of abstaining from the latest practices of birth control or from onanism, will there not be constant struggle in their home, and that in regard to their most intimate relations? If both are not in agreement on the question of their children’s education, one will insist on secular education, the other on Catholic education, and again conflict will ensue.

The bond of intellect: This bond is not so essential as the first—it is in the realm not of strict requirement, but of the desirable. There is much to be gained from shared reading experiences, from a mutual exchange of artistic impressions and psychological observations.

For this, it is not necessary that the wife share her husband’s work. It is enough if she is able to be interested in his profession. Nor is it necessary that they have the same tastes, the same outlook; a certain diversity in mentality, on the contrary, is desirable on condition that there are possibilities for mutual exchange of ideas which will lead to mutual enrichment.

That evidently supposes great simplicity in both husband and wife, a loving liberty in their communication of ideas, a very humble recognition of any superior quality in each other, an entire good faith which makes each one willing to yield to the ideas of the other when they are better.

The bond of souls: It is not sufficient to enjoy an exchange of ideas in profane matters only. It is very desirable that there be harmony of action in the domain of the spiritual, the supernatural . . . prayer together . . . meditation in common . . . reception of Holy Communion together.

Father Doncoeur and several others go so far as to advise making the examination of conscience together with mutual admonition and mutual resolves. This would surely call for extreme delicacy and could not be so generally recommended as the suggestions given previously. But how beautiful it is when husband and wife are as an open book to each other!

Is it good to tell each other the graces received from God, the aspirations of the soul to become holy, to become a saint? Yes, certainly, on condition that all be done with simplicity, with mutual spontaneity, with nothing of constraint, exaggeration or artificiality. Why should one hide perpetually from one’s life companion the best of oneself? Some individuals remain much too reticent and it is a hindrance to great depths of intimacy.

The bond of hearts: How many in marriage love each other selfishly, show themselves demanding, moody, eager to receive, but never generous in giving. There is so much selfishness in certain families even when they are very closely united.

The remedy is to supernaturalize the affections; to pass as quickly as possible from passionate love to virtuous love and to make conjugal love a permanent exercise of the theological virtue of charity.

LIFE TOGETHER IS DIFFICULT

MARRIAGE is not an easy vocation. It requires great virtue of husbands and wives.

Personal experience reveals how true that is; those who cannot claim this personal experience can, in any case, accept the statement of psychologists who observe,”Marriage is the most difficult of all human relations, because it is the most intimate and the most constant. To live so close to another person-who in spite of everything remains another person-to be thus drawn together, to associate so intimately with another personality without a wound or without any shock to one’s feelings is a difficult thing.”

According to an old saying,”There are two moments in life when a man discovers that his wife is his dearest possession in the world-when he carries her across the threshold of his home, and when he accompanies her body to the cemetery.”

But in the interval between these two moments, they must live together, dwell together, persevere together.”To die for the woman one loves is easier than to live with her” claim those who ought to know. And how many women could claim similarly,”To die for the man one loves is easier than to live with him.”

They must bear with each other.

A French journalist while visiting Canada stopped for a time at Quebec.”You have no law permitting a divorce in the case of husbands and wives who do not understand each other?” he questioned.

“No.”

“But what do those married persons do whose discontent is continual and whose characters are in no way compatible?”

“They endure each other.”

How expressive an answer! How rich in meaning! How expressive of virtue which is perhaps heroic! They endure each other.

This is not an attempt to deny the delights of married life, but to show that more than a little generosity is required to bear its difficulties.

In”The New Jerusalem” by Chesterton, a young girl is sought in marriage. She opposes the proposal in view of differences in temperament between herself and the young man. The marriage would certainly be a risk; it would be imprudent.

Michel, the suitor, retorted to this objection in his own style:

“Imprudent! Do you mean to tell me that there are any prudent marriages? You might just as well speak of prudent suicides . . . A young girl never knows her husband before marrying him. Unhappy? Of course, you will be unhappy. Who are you anyway to escape being unhappy, just as well as the mother who brought you into the world! Deceived? Of course you shall be deceived!”

Who proves too much, proves very little. We can, however, through the exaggeration find the strain of truth. “Michel” is a little too pessimistic. He makes a good counterpart to those who enter into marriage as if in a dream. “Marriage,” wisely wrote Paul Claudel-and he gives the true idea-”is not pleasure; it is the sacrifice of pleasure; it is the study of two souls who throughout their future, for an end outside of themselves, shall have to be satisfied with each other always.”

LOVING EACH OTHER IN GOD

WE HAVE already seen that it is essential to advance as quickly as possible from a purely natural love to a supernatural love, from a passionate love to a virtuous love.

That is clear. No matter how perfect the partners in marriage may be, each has limitations; we can foresee immediately that at the point where the limitations of the one contact the limitations of the other, sparks will easily fly; misunderstandings, oppositions, and disagreements will arise.

No matter how much effort one puts forth to manifest only virtues, one does not have only virtues. And when one lives in constant contact with another, his faults appear quickly;”No man is great to his valet,” says the proverb. Sometimes it is the very virtue of an individual which seems to annoy another. One would have liked more discretion; one is, as it were, eclipsed. Two find their self-love irritated, in conflict.

Or perhaps virtues no longer appear as virtues by reason of being so constantly manifested. Others become accustomed to seeing them and look upon them as merely natural traits.”There is nothing more than that missing for him or her to be different.” It is like the sun or the light; people no longer notice them. Bread by reason of its being daily bread loses its character of”good bread.”

Daily intercourse which was a joy in the beginning no longer seems such a special delight; it becomes monotonous. Husband and wife remain together by habit, common interests, honor, even a certain attachment of will, but do they continue to be bound together by love in the deepest sense of the word?

If things go on in this way, they will soon cease to be much concerned about each other; they may preserve a mutual dry esteem which habit will render still drier. Where formerly there existed a mutual ardor, nothing more remains than proper form; where formerly there was never anything more than a delicate remonstrance, there now exists depressing wrangling or a still more depressing coldness.

Married persons must come to the help of weak human nature and try to understand what supernatural love is in order to infuse it into their lives as soon as possible.

Is not the doctrine of the Church on marriage too often forgotten? How many ever reread the epistle of the Nuptial Mass? Meditate on it? In any case, how many husbands and wives read it together? Meditate on it together? That would forearm them against the invasion of worrisome misunderstandings. Why not have recourse to the well-springs of wisdom?

There are not only the epistles. There is the whole gospel.

The example of Joseph and Mary at Nazareth is enlightening. What obedience and cordial simplicity in Mary! What deference and exquisite charity in Saint Joseph! And between the two what openness of heart, what elevated dealings! Jesus was the bond between Mary, the Mother, and Joseph, the foster-father.

In Christian marriage, Jesus is still the unbreakable bond- prayer together, Holy Mass and Holy Communion together.

Not only should there be prayer with each other, beside each other, but prayer for each other.

SUPERNATURAL LOVE

SOME persons imagine that the endeavor to transform their natural love into supernatural love will make them awkward, make them lose their spontaneity, their naturalness.

Indeed, nothing is farther from the truth, if supernatural love is rightly understood.

WHAT DOES IT REALLY REQUIRE?

First of all, does it not require us to fulfill the perfections of natural love? Supernatural love, far from suppressing natural love, makes it more tender, more attentive, more generous; it intensifies the sentiments of affection, esteem, admiration, gratitude, respect, and devotion which constitute the essence of true love.

Supernatural love takes away one thing only from natural and spontaneous love-selfishness, the arch-enemy of love. It demands that everything, from the greatest obligation to the simplest, be done as perfectly as possible. Then by elevating simple human love to the level of true charity, it ennobles the greatest powers of that love. It suppresses nothing. It enriches everything. Better still, it provides in advance against the danger of a diminution in human love. It pardons weaknesses, deficiencies, faults. Not that it is blind to them, but it does not become agitated by them. It bears with them, handles them tactfully, helps to overcome them. It is capable of bestowing love where all is not lovable. Penetrating beyond the exterior, it can peer into the soul and see the image of God behind a silhouette which has become less pleasing.

That is the whole secret. Supernatural love in us seeks to love in the manner and according to the desire of God; it requires us therefore to love God in those we love and then to love the good qualities He has given them and bear with the absence of those He has not given or with the characteristics He has permitted them to acquire.

Loving without any advertence to self, supernatural love is patient and constant in spite of the faults of those it loves. The Little Sister of the Poor loves her old folk despite their coughing, their unpleasant mannerisms, their varying moods. The Missionaries who care for the lepers love them in spite of their loathsome sores.

Unselfish as it is, supernatural love inspires the one who is animated by it to seek the temporal and above all the spiritual good of the one he loves before his own. Delicately it calls the attention of the loved one to his faults, not to reproach him, but to help him correct them. It does not give in to irritability or moodiness; it is quick humbly to beg pardon and to make reparation, should it ever fail. And when there has been a little outburst, how comforting it is, in the intimate converse of the evening, to acknowledge one’s failings, to express sorrow, and to promise to do better in the future with the other’s help!

But all this presupposes prayer and a true desire for union with God.

UNITED STRIVING FOR SANCTITY

A BEAUTIFUL work which husband and wife can pursue together is the mutual effort to correct their faults. Maurice Retour, an industrialist and one of the youngest captains of World War I of which he was a victim, suggested this to the woman he loved even during their engagement. He wrote to her,”I must confess something to you . . . I became aware of your imperfections and I thought how pained I should have been if I had not been able to see clearly into your soul . . . You see how frank I want to be with you. We are just engaged and yet instead of paying you compliments, I do not fear to speak to you of your imperfections which my love for you cannot hide . . . Tell me you will pardon me.”

Another time he wrote,”In general, engaged persons strive to shine in each other’s eyes. We, on the contrary, began by showing each other all our faults . . . You have acknowledged all your faults to me; I confessed to you all my weakness . . . Thank you for your great confidence in me. But never forget that if I permit myself to give you advice which seems good to me, I can always be mistaken and you ought to discuss it with me. Otherwise I shall never dare to give you my opinions.”

In a later letter he said to her,”I have already abused the liberty you gave me. I have told you frankly all I thought about you, nor was I afraid to recognize before you what you call your great faults. It was, I must confess, most difficult for me to tell you because I love you so much that I dread causing you the least pain.” He added,”The interior life is what we need to correct our failings and we shall work from now on, if you wish, to grow in it.”

This mutual effort of husband and wife to correct themselves of their faults may be much, but it is not enough. Something more beautiful remains-to strive positively for sanctity through mutual instruction, loving encouragement and a united and confiding zeal for each other’s perfection.

“Why should we not live a saintly life?” asked Maurice Retour of his bride-to-be. And they decided upon some very definite principles for themselves.

“Let us put no faith in fortune, in pleasures, even in our self-love which always increases and makes us run the risk of becoming blind. . . . The one who receives the most grace will make the other profit by it. What do we care what the world says! It will say what it pleases, but it never will be able to say that we are not true Catholics . . . Our life will be holy and simple.”

“As far as jewels are concerned,” commented Maurice,”I understand you perfectly. If you had loved them, I should never have opposed your tastes, but I tell you frankly, I should have suffered. We shall not fail by excesses on this score. We can do so much good with money that it would be wrong, in spite of my desire to spoil you, to spend it only on you. We shall save all we can to enable us to give more to charity. We shall always go straight to our goal and make no concessions to worldliness.”

There is however, nothing admirable in a gloomy life.”Our interior life must be so intense that it remains alive in all our exterior actions, our pleasures, our work, our joys and our sorrows. I do not mean an interior life which makes us withdraw into ourselves and become bores for other people. On the contrary, we ought to spread our gaiety generously about us and spend all the activity of our youth to attract those who meet us. But, in order to be saints, we must be able to conserve in the midst of the most captivating pleasures and the most intense activity an interior calm which enables us to remain self-possessed always . . .”

A SAINT WHO IS SAD IS SADLY IN NEED OF SANCTITY! A TRULY INSPIRING PROGRAM!

IDEALS FOR MARRIAGE

ON ONE occasion when Maurice Retour was talking with some comrades about his ideals of marriage, he saw some of them smile sceptically. He who had written,”Love has always been sacred to me. In its name I desired to remain faithful to my fiancee even before knowing her,” was to discover that all his companions did not share his noble sentiments, his desire for a chaste marriage.

That did not cause him to lower his standards. He simply tried to lead his companions to a more Christian understanding of married life and if he could not do that, he at least showed his displeasure and withdrew from the discussion.

Writing to his future wife, he said,”I have heard some comments about our future, each one more offensive than the other. But I pity these unfortunate individuals who have never known how to love truly, who have never experienced real intimacy with their wife, and who have sought nothing more than appearance or the satisfaction of their caprice. They can say what they wish, they can tell me that I am young or even a little simple but I shall never change my idea. They can never destroy my confidence-first of all, my confidence in you because of God who has certainly protected me in order to find you . . . secondly, my confidence in myself, because I know that I am different from certain individuals about me and I am not ashamed to say so even if it does sound like pride on my part.”

If that is pride, it is permissible pride! Rather is it an expression of perfect mastery! It is the magnificent dignity of the Christian who knows, of course, that he is weak but who refuses to justify in advance his failings and cowardices, and who counts not upon himself but upon God for strength to persevere.

“Pay no attention to those who tell you I shall change,” he wrote.”Do not listen to those who say that men who marry young will become unfaithful later. No, I do not want anyone to believe such a monstrous thing of me.”

Who was to give him the strength to resist temptations which were always possible?

“The sacrament of our marriage will impart to us the graces necessary to keep our good resolutions. How few understand this sacrament! How few prepare themselves for it and expect to receive from it the graces it can give to those who seek them worthily.”

Noble and irresistible pleading! It recalls the words of Lacordaire,”When a person has not taken the trouble to overcome his passions and when the revelation of chaste joys has not come to him, he consoles himself with vices, declaring them necessary, and clothes in the mantle of pseudo-science the testimony of a corrupted heart.”

Surely marriage is a sacrament, but it is not a miracle. He who has prepared for it only by youthful escapades will possibly fail to remain steadfast. But can not he who has prepared himself by the chastity of celibacy for the chastity of marriage be trusted to preserve with the help of God, a chaste marriage?

ONE HEART, ONE SOUL

How happy are married persons who can say as Maurice Retour to his wife, “We love each other for our ideas. We see only God and we have become united in order to serve Him better.” Such is Christian love.

“We shall ask Christ, who sanctified marriage, to give us all the graces necessary for us. We pray with force but also with joy because we have great confidence in the future since both of us expect our happiness from God alone.”

And after Holy Communion which they both received on their wedding day they begged God “to make their mutual love always effect their personal sanctification, to bless their home by sending them many children, to keep in His grace themselves, their little ones and all who would ever live under their roof.”

Sometimes we hear it said that there are no examples of married persons living effectively the holy law of marriage as God prescribed it and Christ ratified it.

There are many. More than one might think. And, thanks be to God, there have been some in all ages.

In the time of the early Church, Tertullian, believing his death to be approaching, wrote two books entitled Ad Uxorem,”To My Wife.” In the last chapter of the second book he gives an unforgettable picture of marriage. One cannot meditate on it too often.

He extols the happiness of marriage”which the Church approves, the Holy Sacrifice confirms, the Blessing seals, the Angels witness, and God ratifies. What an alliance is that of two faithful souls united in a single hope, under a single discipline, under a similar dependence. Both are servants of the same Master. There is no distinction of mind or of body. Both are in truth one flesh; where there is but one body, there is but one mind. They kneel in prayer together, they teach each other, support each other. They are together in church, together at the Banquet of God, together in trials, in joy. They are incapable of hiding anything from each other, of deserting each other, of annoying each other. In complete liberty, they visit the sick and help the poor. Without anxiety about each other they give alms freely, assist at Holy Mass and without any embarrassment manifest their fervor daily. They do not know what it means to make a furtive sign of the Cross, to mumble trembling greetings, to invoke silent blessings. They sing hymns and psalms vying with each other to give God the most praise. Christ rejoices to see and hear them and gives them His peace. Wherever they are, Christ is with them.

“That is marriage as the Apostle speaks of it to us . . . The faithful cannot be otherwise in their marriage.”

OH, THAT WE MIGHT FULFILL THIS IDEAL IN OUR MARRIAGE

We must pray for it and really want it.

MARRIAGE AND THE BIBLE (1)

I. The Law of Union.

How marvelous is the description of the creation of man and woman which the book of Genesis gives us. God has created the universe. He has hurled worlds into space. Among all these worlds is the earth and on it are all the splendors of the mineral world, the plant world, and the animal world. Each time God sent forth some new creature from His creative Hands, He paused and said,”It is good!” God saw that it was good.

Yes, all of that creation is but a framework, a pedestal. Whom does He intend to place within that framework, upon that pedestal?

Man.

Look at Adam. He has intelligence, free will, and a heart.

A heart-the power to love. But to whom will man direct that power of love which God has placed in him?

God placed all of creation”beneath his feet.” But what does it mean for man to have everything beneath his feet if he has no one to clasp to his heart? God understood man. That is why the Most High is not satisfied upon the completion of His masterpiece. He does not say as He did after each preceding creation,”It is good,” but He says,”It is not good for man to be alone.”

Therefore, the Most High, the divine Sculptor, chisel in hand approaches His masterpiece to attack the marble anew; he lays open its side and from the avenues to the heart removes a part; this part of Adam, He forms into woman. A magnificent indication of how close must be the union between husband and wife! A union of wonderful strength, engendered by love and for love! Saint Thomas explains that”God took the substance with which He formed woman close to the heart of man. He did not take it from the head for she is not made to dominate. Neither did he take it from man’s feet, for she is not made for servitude. He took it near the heart because she is made to love and to be loved.”

Such is the marvel of the union of love in marriage according to God. Love will make of two beings a single one.

Adam acclaimed it upon awaking:”This now is bone of my bones and flesh of my flesh; she shall be called woman, because she was taken out of man.” That is why the sacred text adds:”Wherefore a man shall leave father and mother and shall cleave to his wife: and they shall be two in one flesh.”

This virginal page does not yet speak of the mother but only of the spouse. God gives Man a companion-not several but one-and this society is called conjugal society. This society will be composed of two persons, a couple, only two. So true is this that until this first woman became a mother she had no name of her own. There was only one name for both.

How wonderful is the inviolable oneness of the human couple according to the desire of God!

MAN BORN OF SLIME

WHAT was God’s first aim in instituting marriage? Was it the mutual union of the couple? Was it procreation?

We can learn much of God “s designs without departing from the story of Genesis. God desiring to multiply humankind by means of generation (the first aim) created a mutual attraction between the sexes which would lead them on to love (the second aim). That is how the matter stands from a logical point of view. Considered from the psychological point of view, the first aim is the union of the two; the child comes only as an issue and consecration of the union.

This is no time to develop a thesis. Much more valuable is it to draw inspiration for useful reflection upon the plan of God.

Adam was formed from the slime of the earth, Eve from the body of Adam. Might not this great difference in origin explain, in part at least, the essential difference between the masculine temperament and the feminine temperament? Man is coarser grained, more vehement in passion, more readily excited to physical desires. That is understandable because of his role in generation; he is constituted for conquest and, with rare exceptions, more readily advances beyond the suggestions or demands of delicacy and restraining modesty than a woman does. In many ways he evidences that he is more earthy than his wife. This is not a condemnation but simply a statement of a providential reality. Woman, according to Bishop Dupanloup, is more soulful than man. That, too, can be understood in the light of her role in marriage. Might it not also be explained by the fact that, born as she was from a living human being, the beginnings of her material being were nobler than Adam?

In any case, one thing is certain-God wanted Adam and Eve to be different from each other. It is a mistake for man to become effeminate, for woman to play the man. They are not made to resemble each other but to complement each other.

Let man keep the department of masculine forcefulness and let woman keep the department of necessary refinements.

Woman has probably failed at times in fidelity to her essential feminine vocation. Her game of imitating man whether attempted through perversity or thoughtlessness goes contrary to the plan of the Most High. God does well what He does. If He created Eve after Adam, it was not that He might have upon the earth only Adam and Adam.

Man too does not want to see just himself again in woman. Just because he has enough of being himself only, he desires something else. If woman presents nothing but an extension of masculinity, he has nothing but that to go on. He becomes completely himself only when a woman who is truly a woman comes to join him according to the plan willed by Providence.

Let women take on men’s work, if need be, during difficult times which call men to arms; they but do their duty and we extol them for it. Aside from such an emergency, let them keep to their own field, the exercise of womanly functions, and leave to men the functions of man.

SOME FEMININE TRAITS

THE Bible clearly reveals the role designed for woman by Providence. Formed from a living person rather than from slime, her lead in the home is to be spiritual; drawn from close proximity to man’s heart she is to rule by loving devotedness. Created as man’s complement, she is not to become his rival but his helpmate.

It is worthy of note also that the first woman was imposed on Adam. The first man did not have a choice among several women. Eve formed by God from Adam’s own being was given to Adam by God.

Ever after, aside from the periods in history when woman was nothing more than a slave or when she was given in marriage without her consent, she would be chosen by man in order to enter into marriage. As a consequence, woman has a double characteristic-an innate genius for adornment and, in regard to other women, a jealousy that can be inflamed by a mere nothing.

She has a genius for adornment. She must please. And that is right. No one need reproach her for striving to do so. “The pheasants are preening their feathers,” Saint Francis de Sales humorously commented in answer to Saint Jane Frances de Chantal’s letter expressing worry over her daughters” newly evidenced concern about their dress. It is excess that is blameworthy.

Charles Diehl, in the first volume of”Figures Byzantines” tells us that political reasons did not always direct the marriages contracted by the emperor of Byzantium. When the Empress Irene wanted to marry off her son Constantine, she sent messengers everywhere to find the most beautiful girl in the empire; she herself set the requirements as to age, height, and personal appearance of the candidates.

A fig for nobility! The basilissa needed only to be beautiful. That alone qualified her to be considered sovereign; the marriage would follow. It was not therefore as wife of the emperor that she received power but rather as a sort of choice by God indicated by her beauty . . .

How many women at that time must have hoped to become empress.

And how many women since the Byzantine era as well as before have counted on their”beauty” to come into power and acquire a husband. Provided that she stays within her bounds when capitalizing on her real or supposed beauty, woman does not depart from her role.

She does however depart from it when concern for her looks becomes her sole interest or when she gives herself up to jealousy of actual or possible rivals.

Her aim should be to keep within the plan of Providence and never go beyond it.

MARRIAGE AND THE BIBLE (2)

II. The Law of Procreation.

God did not create love and marriage only for the mutual pleasure of husband and wife. The purpose of their union goes beyond union. From the married couple’s intimate union a third person will issue, and if the marriage is fruitful a series of thirds, a progeny which will be the glory of the parents.

Increase and Multiply. God could have multiplied the living without using his creatures as instruments. Adam and Eve were directly created. God needed no one. So true is this, that in the creation of the soul the Most High uses no intermediary. He reserves to Himself the power to infuse the soul into the child whose body the parents cooperate in producing.

As far as the body is concerned God permits and even desires that there should be an intermediary cause, and that constitutes a great marvel. God imparts to His creatures a share in His creative power. The parents are united in the physical expression of their conjugal love and from this bodily union, provided nothing bars the way, life will be born. For the soul there is to be no human agent. For the body a human agent shall exist. It is through the instrumentality of the parents that the body of the child will be born. But God reserves to Himself the power to put the soul into that body by a direct act of creation.

That is the basis for the sovereign beauty of fatherhood and motherhood . . . At the birth of her first born son, Eve, transported with joy, exclaimed,”I have gotten a man through God.”

There is a double law in marriage-the law of chastity and the law of fecundity. The law of chastity permits the husband and wife to regulate according to their desire the frequency of intercourse. Should they by mutual consent decide to live for a time as brother and sister, say during Lent or Advent, or at some other times in their life together, for any just and noble reasons, they may do so provided they run no risk of sin.

The principal application of the law of chastity for the married is this: If they decide either by explicit or implicit agreement to perform the marriage act, they may do nothing to prevent conception.

Let them petition God for the desired grace to practice the restraints and continence they recognize as helpful or if it is not advisable for them to abstain from physical union, the grace to do nothing counter to duty.

CONJUGAL DUTY

THE demands of married life emanate above all from the Natural Law; in other words, right reason left to itself would reveal them to conscience. Even if Christ had never come, if Revelation had never been given, these requirements would be what they are. The Church, keeping to the doctrine of Christ merely upholds them with her supreme authority; she does not institute them. She reaffirms the law, explains its application, clarifies the ideal every time someone attempts to obscure it.

To that end we have various encyclicals of the popes as Maximum illud by Leo XIII and Casti Connubii by Pius XI and also pastoral letters issued periodically by bishops as the need arises.

One of the most complete of such letters on conjugal duty is the one written by Cardinal Mercier. Reminding the people of his diocese of the true doctrine on marriage, he explains the Christian concept of the conjugal life:

“The original and primary reason for the union of man and woman is the foundation of a family, the beginning of children whom they will have the honor and the obligation to rear in the Faith and in Christian principles.

“It appears, therefore, that the first effect of marriage is a duty which the married may not avoid . . .

“How far from truth are those who present marriage as a union whose sole purpose is physical love.

“The attraction to conjugal intercourse is legitimate, beyond a doubt. But such satisfaction of the sexual appetite is justifiable only in the function for which it was destined and which it was meant to ensure.

“How grave then is the sin of those who circumvent the divine law in this matter. A mortal sin is committed every time that the conception of a child is prevented by a deliberate positive act.”

Deliberately, before, during or after intercourse to take precautions destined to prevent conception constitutes a formal and seriously unlawful act.

The insidious propaganda on birth control that is being spread about through pamphlets, lectures, and advertisements is nothing but an effort to make an attack on life a lawful act. Cardinal Mercier condemns doctors, pharmacists, or mid-wives who betray their social mission.

It is forbidden to attack life, even in the generative act itself, that is to say, at the very point of origin. And those who dare to kill the living one being formed in the womb of its mother, are punished by the Church with censure reserved to the bishop. That means that the priest who absolves them must obtain from the bishop special authorization to do so, although he need not mention their names.

How the thought of all the souls sacrificed through marriage frauds ought to incite me to pray for holiness of family life and general observance of conjugal duty. War is not the scourge which kills the most people. It is lust.

MOTHERHOOD

THE writer who said,”Man conquers and woman gives herself,” was correct. Such indeed is the difference between man and woman in their attitude to life. His is an active heroism; hers a passive heroism. For the grown man, life is but a series of conquests; he goes from one victory to the other, carried along by the zest of it until he fails. Woman makes a gift of herself to life; she spends herself to the point of exhaustion for her husband, for her children, for those who suffer, for the unfortunate. But this gift of hers in its fullest significance is childbirth, a supreme act of passive heroism. Giving birth to a child is not a purely physical achievement. A mind, a soul come to life and uniting with the foetus form, without the mother’s awareness, a man-a miracle indeed.

What is the most wonderful is the blossoming and growth of maternal love in the woman from the very moment of her child’s conception, through its birth, and throughout its whole life, but particularly during its baby days.

In a certain sense, every woman from her earliest years has the makings of a mother in her. As a little girl she plays with her doll, and the game holds her interest only because her imagination transforms the rag doll or china doll she clasps in her already expert arms into a living child. So true is this, that even virginal souls who consecrate themselves to the service of the neighbor may be called mother; that they really are for their poor, their orphans, their sick . . .

But it is quite evident that at the time of actual maternity, of physical maternity, a special creation is effected in the woman. At the same time that milk mounts to her breast, maternal love takes possession of her soul, a love of a very special quality which does not precede but which follows childbirth. Before the child appears, there can be expectation, yearning, vague tenderness like the dawn preceding day; it is not yet maternal love in the strongest and strictest sense of the word.

The child is born. The woman, even though she had been extremely lazy, manifests an astonishing energy for all that concerns her baby. Though she had been previously most shiftless now she becomes ingenious, attentive, watchful and almost anxious. No one need tell her that her tiny babe can do nothing for itself and that it is exposed to danger of death at almost every instant. She anticipates its needs, its desires and a frown appears at the least cloud that passes over the cradle. No trouble daunts her. As a young girl and young woman she grumbled over sacrifice and became irritable; now she is eager in sacrifice-hours of watching, getting up at night; if not able to nurse the child, she makes minute preparation of formulas, and even later, pays careful attention to the kinds of food the baby may have. It all seems to come to her naturally; it seems to be second-nature. But even if she has acquired her knowledge through training and study in special courses which she may have taken with no particular relish, now she carries it out with special zest and warmth of feeling.

If her baby is well formed, beautiful, healthy and lively, she rejoices. But if, unfortunately, it is deformed, weak, listless, her love increases. It is as if she wishes to shower him with love to make up to the little one for all he lacks as if by clasping it more tenderly to herself she can supplement its life.

Should her child later become a prodigal, she will have for him an astonishing partiality; if she believes him to be a hero, it is her prejudice in his favor! Marvelous contradiction in which maternal love reveals itself!

How eagerly she desires the father’s love for the child. Then again she is afraid that the father will not be sufficiently firm and will give in to him too easily. Now the warmest caresses, now the height of disinterestedness born of maternal love!

IS BIRTH CONTROL PERMISSIBLE?

To LIMIT procreation by the practice of contraceptive devices without foregoing sexual union is forbidden. No one has the right to suppress life. To do away with a living adult is homicide; to do away with the living child in the course of its development within the womb of its mother is the crime of abortion; to destroy the seed of life, in the very generative act itself so as to prevent possible conception is Onanism, so called after Onan in the Old Testament who indulged in this practice.

No one has the right to place any act which by its nature is productive of life, and on his own authority, frustrate the effects of that act which is the generation of a life. Nature must be allowed to take its course. However, if for some reason decreed by Providence, conception does not take place, that is God’s act. The individual has not on his own decision killed or sought to kill human life.

It has already been said that to limit procreation by abstaining from intercourse is within the right of the husband and wife.

There is however another method of birth control which has been much discussed and about which it is essential to have clear ideas. May the married couple profit by the wife’s cycles of infertility, as suggested by the Rhythm theory, limiting their sexual union to such periods as seem less likely to result in conception? The answer to that question ought to be qualified.

To adopt this practice temporarily in order to space births somewhat without having to deprive themselves of each other is certainly different from making the practice habitual in order definitely to avoid having any children or to avoid it at least for a long time.

Certainly graver reasons are needed to justify the second instance than to justify the first. Are the reasons for it purely selfish? Then the married partners are at fault. They do not by their conduct violate the law of chastity in marriage, that is true, but they do violate the law of charity, or to put it more graphically, the law of fruitfulness.

The plan of God for married persons in this matter of fecundity is not that they have the largest number of children possible. Rather it is that they should have the largest number that they are capable of rearing well considering the position in which Providence has placed them or in other words taking into account the health, the economic status of the family, and other such considerations. It is a problem of honesty.

It is up to each individual to face himself squarely on this problem, if it is his, and examine himself sincerely on the complete honesty of his manner of acting. Then such a one will be ready to meditate often upon the reasons that argue for peopling the cradles.

WHY HAVE A LARGE FAMILY

WE HAVE seen that the practice of Rhythm, above all if it is only temporary, is legitimate and reasonable. But, even in that case, particularly when it concerns those just starting out on their marital life, it is advisable to call attention to some vital considerations to be taken into account:

The harm it can do by separating the idea of sexual pleasure from the idea of fatherhood and motherhood.

The harm it can do by overemphasizing the carnal side of life together at the expense of the tender and spiritual aspect.

The harm it can do by causing inordinate abandonment to the senses during the infertile periods.

Rather than seeking out the means-even legitimate means-of limiting the offspring, what is really important for the married couple is to discover the reasons for having many children.

There are reasons of charity:

1. Toward children who depend upon the parents to be called or not called to life-to eternity.

2. Toward Christian society to which they should seek to give as many baptized souls as possible and, if God permits, priests and religious for a world that needs them so much.

3. Toward their country for whom they may rear citizens who will bring her life and prosperity.

HOW BEAUTIFUL ARE SUCH REASONS!

Consider these young chosen ones in perspective. It depends on me-on us-with just a little generosity on our part, to dare to bring them forth from nothingness, to call them into being, to life.

That will mean greater glory for God; it will mean for them an eternity of happiness. It is up to me-to us-to open for them the book of life, the Book of Life; for a life in its fuller sense is not merely a period of time, it is part of a life which will never end. In bringing forth children, parents are fashioning citizens of eternity.

It is not enough to consider the Church triumphant and how to help the greatest possible number to enter into it; we can and we ought to consider the Church militant. Are the number of baptized souls bent on living their baptism sufficient in number? Where can they better increase, develop and aid in the Christian renewal, that is, the baptismal renewal of the world than in Christian families? Are there enough priests? . . . War has mowed down a great number of them. Even before the war there were not enough for the work to be done. Now, the need is tragic. Bishops can only ordain . . . The priesthood depends mainly on marital holiness. If parents do their duty, if they are generous, there will be priests; otherwise, the Church will weaken.

As for our country, its beauty is proportionate to its men, to its men of valor. The recent wars showed the tragedy of a lack of manpower. These are of course temporal reasons, but spiritual interests are closely linked with them.

Reflect on all this . . . Let life live!

THE BELL OF LIFE

IN 1935 there was a project on foot to install a bell of life and a dial of death in the heart of the city of Berlin. The plan may have fallen through. A large bell was to boom out every five minutes; in the interval a smaller bell was to ring nine times announcing to the neighborhood that nine children were being born in Germany during that time. Then an hour glass was to indicate to the passersby that in the space of five minutes, seven Germans had gone to their graves.

Whether realized or not, the project was worthwhile. To announce the increase of life is helpful; to call to mind the work of death more helpful still, but not the least important is to point out the triumph of life over death.

Today’s meditation is to dwell on this last thought. It is not so important now to contemplate the end of life and the responsibility to be faced at that dread moment as to welcome the new cradles of life and to determine whether I am increasing for my country as I should the chiming of the life-bell.

In November 1939, a leader of a heavy artillery division at the Maginot line wrote in a letter:”I have eighteen men in my sector. They are between thirty and thirty-five years old; all except a few are married; all of them together have only eight children!”

If, as good Political Economy points out the average number of children per family for a country which does not want to die out is three-two to replace the father and mother and a third destined to fill the void caused by infant mortality-then those eighteen men should have had at least fifty-four children among them. They had eight. The deficit then: Forty-six.

There is of course no moral law that requires the married to have three children. The example given here is simply a social or national aspect of the problem. It has already been pointed out that the moral law is determined not by the country to which one belongs-although there might be a duty to give it a thought-but by the law of chastity in marriage on the one hand and the law of fecundity on the other.

It might be well here to come back to these points. The law of fecundity expects the parents to have as many children as they are capable of rearing in a human and Christian manner. As for birth control, the law of chastity sets the rule: nothing may be done artificially to frustrate conception.

But to return to the social viewpoint-my country’s future, society’s need: Of what good is it to cry out Long live my country! if my only contribution is to her death?

More cradles than tombs! That should be our motto. How great is the disaster when the contrary is true! Does not such an argument which possibly has no force with weaklings or those too wrapped up in themselves bear weight with me? It is not the most decisive argument to encourage large families, but it is not a negligible argument.

Patriotic duty does not belong to morality in war time only. It exists and binds conscience in peace as well. In another way perhaps but just as imperatively.

Do I love my country? Do I love her enough to be willing to give her children? Certainly not primarily for the time of war, but for peace-time equally. The more valiant hearts and arms there are, the more prosperous is the country. The true wealth of a people is their wealth in men.

THE IMPOSSIBILITY OF HAVING CHILDREN?

WE HAVE seen clearly that it is a”serious matter” to prevent conception by any voluntary positive act and if full knowledge and complete consent of the will are present it constitutes a mortal sin. If the marital act is performed, then God may not in any way-by the opposition of the parents-be hindered from creating a soul.

But we cannot, considering our burdens, increase the number of our children!

That may be, responds the Moral Law; such a case is far from being imaginary. But you do not enter upon marriage only for enjoyment. In the plan of Divine Providence, pleasure is the accomplishment or the result of duty fulfilled. To separate the pleasure from the duty, to seek the first while evading the second is to go counter to the divine plan. Sexual pleasure presupposes the normal exercise of the generative function, the acceptance of the resultant burdens for which it is, as Cardinal Mercier expresses it,”the providential payment.”

But when you consider the intimacy of life together, how can we refrain for any length of time at all without giving ourselves to each other?

There is every reason to believe that, without prayer and recourse to the sacraments, you are right. But what is your supernatural program? What are you doing to rise above the senses, to moderate the flesh?

Can “t we choose those times when fertility is least probable?

Yes, if you have a sufficient reason, as you seem to have.

And the necessity of having to practice prudent and courageous continence several days each month will in itself force you to a certain and meritorious generosity.

Even that is not possible for us; for then we would have to renounce marital intimacies.

Of course. But nowhere has it been said that marriage is a state where one can allow himself every liberty suggested by his caprice without exercising any judgment.

That is said nowhere; at least, not in any sane and honest books on morality. Married persons are too quick to think that, because they have not chosen”the state of perfection” in absolute virginity, the great virtues are not for them.

Even in granting themselves what they may legitimately permit themselves, the husband and wife have a large field for detachment. They ought to be willing to profit by the opportunity and not reject it on the plea of moral or physiological impossibility when it is really because of their lack of stamina, of Christian spirit, and the will to selfcontrol.

How will such married persons aenemic in their spiritual life and accustomed to denying themselves nothing, even when the cost is not too great, deny themselves when a serious law binds them?

One must learn to will in order to know how to will. And if one falls he must not excuse but accuse himself.

You are the Judge of my past, O my God. I offer You all its efforts and its weaknesses. Give me the grace to be generous in the future.

THE ONLY CHILD

THERE is, as we have seen, a double duty involved in the marital bond:

The duty of chastity: In no way to attack the law of life.

The duty of charity or fruitfulness: To do one “s best for the production of life.

It is impossible-and that is self-evident-to set a definite figure as the gauge of duty in procreation. A very competent authority on this subject, Father P. Boisgelat, S. J., has this to say:

“Who keeps below his minimum possibilities fails in the duty of his state of life and sins through selfishness. Who strives for his possibilities and realizes them does his duty. Who exceeds the maximum of his possibilities sins by imprudence and intemperance.”

As for this level of possibility about which he speaks, it must be determined by each one’s conscience without selfishness and without imprudence.

“One must on his part confide in God, abandoning to Divine Providence the possibility of unforeseen misfortunes, such as the unexpected and early death of the father, a possible lower economic status in the future, war . . .

“Duty obliges us to foresee only what is foreseeable and likely; all the rest must be confided to God.”

There are couples who eagerly desire one child but not several children. They want the one either to have a tangible proof that they have made a fruitful marriage or to create a precious and living bond between them. They desire only the one because they do not want to be encumbered; they do not want to limit the regular tenor of their lives, the quality and variety of their wardrobe, and they are afraid to run the risk to their health that every new birth might bring; they dread the crying and the inconvenience caused by very little children. These reasons and others just as selfish are worth nothing. Serious reasons are necessary to dispense from serious duty.

The idea of limiting the family in order to give to the one (or to the very small number) resources which will eliminate the necessity of working or assure the whole benefit of the entire fortune is not in itself selfish on the part of the parents. It is extremely harmful however. We are not born to avoid work here below. Each one is obliged to contribute his maximum effort to the welfare of society. We are not here to reign, but to wrestle.

Parents do not manifest much esteem for the fruit of their blood if they do not deem it capable of gaining, by its own power, a place in life whenever it so desires.

Then, too, is there not always the danger that the only child will receive too soft a training, that he will be spoilt and be of an inferior character?

Should this only child die young, what anguish for the father and mother! They themselves become the very first victims of their damnable birth control.

CHRIST AND MARRIAGE

OUR LORD did not come to destroy but to fulfill the law.

Marriage was to remain exactly what it was in the Natural Law: the exchange of two wills for the purpose of procreation. Our Savior who knew very well the difficulties of the marital state made a sacrament of this mutual exchange of wills, a rite that imparts grace. Each of the two in becoming united to the other will enrich that other one with an increase of sanctifying grace. Both should be in the state of grace before the marriage takes place since it is a sacrament of the living, which means that its purpose is to intensify the divine life already existing in the soul. By their gift of themselves to each other they also obtain for each other a gift of new growth in the divine.

Because marriage is fundamentally a contract -a double yes giving to each of the two complete right to the other-it has this special feature that there is no other minister than the two concerned. Sometimes people say,”That’s Father So and So; he married us.” The expression is incorrect. It is not the priest who marries the bride and groom; they marry themselves. They themselves are the ministers of the sacrament which they receive at the same time. The priest is there only in the capacity of a witness representing the Church; as the witness required for the validity of the marriage; but a witness only.

What eminent dignity therefore has the sacrament of Matrimony! What eminent dignity have the bride and groom! They are for each other transmitters of the divine.

The bonds which they contract bear upon two points: the oneness of the couple, the indissolubility of their bonds. Our Lord, who made of marriage a grace-giving rite, also stressed the double obligation of unity and indissolubility.

Oneness: They form a single unit. They shall be two in one flesh, says Genesis. But due to human grossness, forms of polygamy were introduced. Our Savior forbade them, and the Church has always taken care to require the observance of the law. Love itself demands it. Marriage is such an intimate reality. To live it with several individuals at the same time is condemned by natural feeling itself. Divine law merely reaffirms this basic requirement. Furthermore, family stability as well as the happiness of the children militate equally in favor of oneness.

Indissolubility: Marriage creates a oneness forever; a oneness that can be dissolved only by the death of either partner. The encyclical of Pius XI,”Casti-Connubii” reminds the world of this:

“For each individual marriage, inasmuch as it is a conjugal union of a particular man and woman, arises only from the free consent of each of the spouses; and this free act of the will, by which each party hands over and accepts those rights proper to the state of marriage is so necessary to constitute true marriage that it cannot be supplied by any human power.

“This freedom, however, regards only the point whether the contracting parties really wish to enter upon matrimony or to marry this particular person; but the nature of matrimony is entirely independent of the free will of man, so that if one has once contracted matrimony he is thereby subject to its Divinely made laws and its essential properties.”

MARRIAGE AND BAPTISM

CHRIST came to restore to us the divine life lost by original sin. He instituted baptism as the practical means of entering upon the supernatural. The baptized person is not only a soul and a body, but a soul in which God lives.

According to one of the Fathers of the Church baptism is a marriage between God and the soul; he goes so far as to call the soul Spirita Sancta the feminine form for the Holy Spirit (Spiritus Sanctus). Without this marriage of God and the soul, the individual can have no spiritual fecundity. It is impossible: The most noble human act performed by one in mortal sin has no value at all for heaven.

WHAT THEN IS THE MARRIAGE OF TWO BEINGS OF FLESH AND BONE?

It is the image on an earthly plane of a union which is more beautiful although invisible-the union of God and the soul.

Baptism, marriage-two sacraments of union-and the second will always be but a symbol of the first. Union of God with the soul, union of husband and wife. Two sacraments of union; two sacraments of fecundity. Without God, the soul can do nothing fruitful for heaven; without each other, husband and wife cannot beget children. And just as Saint Paul could call all sin adultery since it is deliberate divorce from God, so every break in the marriage bond is blameworthy and true adultery.

Both baptism and marriage then are sacraments of inviolable union. A rupture of the union whether a divorce from God or a divorce from one’s partner in marriage can in either case be called adultery.

What better guarantee have the wedded couple of their reciprocal fidelity than their common life in the state of grace! Each of the two refusing to be divorced from God is thus more sure of the other. United as they are by the same promise, by conjugal embraces, they are likewise united with each other by the same Holy Spirit who forms the Bond between them. Any husband or wife who denies this is already committing an offence against the integrity of the gift of self. Each of the two must live the truth of Tertullian’s definition of a soul in grace.”What is a Christian?” he asked.”A Christian is a soul in a body and God in that soul.” To give to one’s partner in marriage only the first two elements and refuse the third is not to give all, not to give the best. Truly it is a plunder, a plunder which injures husband and wife. Is it possible not to realize this? It remains profoundly true just the same: Indeed, it is a double betrayal. For who can say that one who has been coward enough to betray God will not be just as likely to betray the partner of his life?

So true is this, that only fidelity to God can give completeness to marriage.

RESPECT IN LOVE

COMPLETE fidelity in marriage is essential. It is however only a minimum. To treat each other as living tabernacles of God- that is what marriage between two baptized persons demands.

Know you that the sacrament of Christian initiation transforms a person into a living temple of the Most High?

You know.

Well then, behind this more or less attractive human silhouette which is the person of the marriage partner, body and soul, there is God dwelling within and living His Divine life in the depths of the soul. Consequently when poor health or advancing age cause husband or wife to grow less attractive exteriorly, that is not a reason for love to wane.

How many know that when husband and wife in the state of grace embrace each other by conjugal privilege, they clasp the Holy Trinity, who unites them even more closely than their human embrace? Far from coming between them, what supernatural intimacy and what magnificent dignity does it give to their union! How it elevates, and idealizes what in itself is good though still carnal and therefore capable of easily becoming earthy and, for some, difficult to consider as something noble.

It is rare to find Christians who truly have faith at least faith in the fundamental mystery of the life of the baptized. Father Charles de Foucauld wrote to his married sister who was the mother of a family:

“God is in us, in the depths of our soul . . . always, always, always there, listening to us and asking us to chat a bit with Him. And that is, as much as my weakness will permit, my very life, my darling. Try, that more and more it may become yours; that will not isolate you, nor draw you away from your other occupations. It only requires a minute; then, instead of being alone, there will be two of you to fulfill your tasks. From time to time lower your eyes toward your heart, recollect yourself for a mere quarter of a minute and say:

“You are there, my God. I love You.” It will take you no more time than that and all that you do will be much better done having such a help. And what help it is! Little by little, you will acquire the habit and you will finally be always aware of this sweet companion within yourself, this God of our hearts . . . Let us pray for each other that we may both keep this dear Guest of our souls loving company.”

If husband and wife were equally convinced of the living splendor their souls actually present, how the marital act, so holy to begin with, would become for them an act of divine faith, an act penetrated by the highest supernatural spirit.

I want to meditate often on my baptism, and the mystery of the divine life in me. I want to become accustomed to treat myself as a living tabernacle of my Lord, to regard the companion of my life as the thrice holy shrine of the Divinity, for I know this to be a reality.

The just live by faith. I want to live by faith.

MARRIAGE AND THE MYSTICAL BODY

CHRIST came to restore the divine life lost to us by sin. But how? He did not save us only by some act external to Himself as one might lay down a sum of money to ransom a slave but by incorporating us in Himself, by making all of us with Him a single organism.”I am the Vine, you are the branches.” Christ is the Head, we the members and together we are the whole body, Christ. The aggregate of all the members, all the branches united constitutes the Church joined by an unbreakable bond to Christ, its Leader and Head.

And Christian marriage will be . . . and will only be . . . but the symbol of this union of Christ with His Church, of the Church with its Head Saint. Paul at the end of his Epistle to the Christians at Ephesus gives no other rule of love and of security in their union to the married than the counsel to copy this union in their life. He says to wives.”Let women be subject to their husbands as to the Lord: because the husband is the head of his wife as Christ is the head of the Church being Himself Savior of the body. But just as the Church is subject to Christ, so also let wives be to their husbands in all things.”

Then addressing himself to husbands, he continues:

“Husbands love your wives, just as Christ also loved the Church and delivered Himself up for her.” This is the way husbands ought to love their wives and recalling the words of Genesis.”They shall be two in one flesh,” Saint Paul concludes,”This is a great mystery. . . . I mean in reference to Christ and to the Church.”

Is it possible to imagine a divorce between Christ and the Church, between the Church and Christ? By the same token, it should be impossible to conceive of a divorce between a man and woman in Christian marriage, the man being but a double, an image of Christ; the woman a double, an image of the Church.

This is but a negative aspect . . . not to be disunited. The union of Christ with the Church which baptism symbolizes invites the married to have for each other the most profound and entire consecration to each other. It is this entire consecration to each other which Saint Paul demands.

It is not without reason that the liturgy of the nuptial mass contains this particular epistle of Saint Paul. Unfortunately how few understand something of the significance of these texts!

How much more fitting would it be, at the time of the marriage, to profit by the marriage discourse to explain to those concerned the sublime meaning of the ceremony and the obligations which will ensue instead of handing out just so much twaddle and bestowing so many compliments!

The whole difficulty is that it would necessitate touching upon the profound Gospel spirit and, for the majority of persons, the Gospel is a dead letter. As a consequence, everyone keeps to the low level of hackneyed themes understandable to all.

I shall come back often to this Epistle of my nuptial Mass; it will help me to deepen my Christianity.

MUTUAL DEVOTEDNESS

THE emphasis upon the duty of reciprocal devotedness of husband and wife is evident in the previous quotation from Saint Paul. So that the Church may remain intact, beautiful, and immaculate, Christ is lavish in His care of her. In return the Church leaves nothing undone to bring glory to her Divine Spouse.

That is how husbands and wives should treat each other. The husband must be another Christ, a faithful copy of Christ. He ought to neglect nothing for the honor and the welfare of his wife; he should even be ready, if the need arose, to shed his blood for her. She, on her part, ought to do everything to revere her husband. It must be a mutual rivalry of love.

Just as there exists between Christ and the Church, in perfect harmony with their mutual devotedness, a bond of authority on the one side and of submission on the other, so too in the home, the husband is entrusted with the lead in their advance together and the wife joins her efforts to his in sentiments of loving submission.

The wife’s duty of subordination to her husband does not arise from woman’s incapacity but from the different functions each of the two are to exercise. When each fulfills well the proper function, the unity of the home is assured. The wife is not a slave; she is a companion. On essential points there is no subordination but necessary equality.

The man has no right to come to marriage sullied and yet demand that his wife be still a virgin. The man does not have permission to betray the home, and the wife the obligation to remain faithful. And when it is a question of the marriage right, the duty is conjugal, equal for each: When the husband asks the wife to give herself to him she must grant the request. But there is a reciprocal duty. When she makes the same request of him, he too must grant it.

The duty of subordination holds only where the direction of the home is concerned. It does not give the husband the right to impose any of his whims upon his wife. In fact, should he go so far as to make demands contrary to the law of God, she has the duty to resist him with all gentleness but also with the necessary firmness. Rightly understood, then, the wife’s submission to her husband is not at all demeaning. Moreover, to obey is never to descend but to ascend.

Let husband and wife strive not so much to equal each other as to be worthy of each other. Let the husband put into the exercise of his authority the reserve and prudence which win confidence and let the wife strive to be an accomplished woman not masculine but feminine.

The interesting character of the home is not a man, a woman, but the couple; not an individual, but the family, the harmonious development of the family cell; not duality as such but the advance in common of the two.

WOMAN ‘S SUPERIORITY

IN HIS book”Il Sangue di Cristo,” Igino Giordani pronounces this judgment:

“Even when he is good, man always reminds one a little of a heron; he stands on one foot and assumes poses. He turns to the right, then to the left, and what concern he shows for his appearance!

“ The Christian woman fulfills the more obscure domestic tasks, services humble and hidden. The woman is to be like Mary. She will become familiar with the tasks that require abnegation. Is it not perhaps easier to ascend the pulpit than to watch at the bedside of the dying? There are plenty of such examples. Saint Augustine wrote stacks of books but who made a confessor of the faith out of this professor? His mother-with her tears.

“ More women than men enter religion; yet they do not have the satisfaction of the priesthood. It is perhaps because of these interceding and retiring women that all does not go up in the smoke of vanity’s fireworks.”

Men might perhaps retort that on the score of vanity, women do not yield to them a point. If they, the men, know how to pose to advantage, and women, just to win admiration, also do their share of strutting, and with an earnestness worthy of a better cause. Would they be such slaves to fashion if they did not have-and how much more than men- the mania for excelling their rivals and gaining notice?

Certainly in self sacrifice and above all in the daily humble hidden devotedness which the tasks of the home require, woman is in the lead. That does not mean that man, in his profession, does not know how to sacrifice himself for the one he loves. Would he spend himself as he does if he did not know that a smile would reward him in the evening and a gentle voice would sing his praises? Nevertheless, in general, the opinion of Giordani can be accepted as well as the proofs he gives for it.

We need not consider religious life now. It has no point here. All we need do is look to the Christian home to find without difficulty numerous and sometimes touching examples of devotedness which nothing can exhaust. Here is a wife; she has a husband who gets beside himself with rage; he has real fits of temper, the blood rushes to his head and he is practically on the verge of a stroke. Will the woman let him to his fate and punish him for his violence by depriving him at least for a time of her attentions? Not at all!

Wasn’t it Shakespeare who gave us this delightful scene: A sheriff is enraged against his wife. She leaves the room. Perhaps she has gone off to pout because she is away for a while. But no! Here she comes, her arms loaded down, and sets about preparing mustard packs for her husband’s feet and cold packs for his head to avert the ill effects of his moments of fury.

It might be just an episode in a play but it is none the less symbolic.

That is woman for you!

THE BOSS IN THE HOUSE

AFTER a meditation on his duty of ruling his future home, Maurice Retour wrote the following ideas to his fiancee:”In all the families I have visited, the husbands want to appear to rule their wives while the wives quietly claim that they rule their husbands. I eagerly desire to have influence on your soul to help you ascend; but I desire just as eagerly to have you exercise a great influence on mine. Let us leave to others such petty behavior and thank God in all humility that He has enlightened us.”

In another letter he came back to the same idea”I wish to be master before the law, I even want to be responsible to God for the morality of our home, but for all the details of our life there is no master. I have never had greater disdain for anyone than I have for a married man who presumes to dominate his wife. I have seen some husbands grow actually stubborn over some detail so that they do not have the appearance before others of giving in to their wives. I think such husbands are idiots.” Then as a reason for his opinion he adds,”Two persons living together necessarily have an influence upon each other, but I promise you never to try by any subtlety to hold you under my dominion. We shall live side by side without a thought for such notions.

I want to believe that we can belong to each other in order to enjoy life but with a love that will bring us ever close to God. . . . God must always be foremost and He must be our goal even in our love, now and always.”

All husbands are not of that calibre. In a novel by a German author, a certain baron gives his idea on how women should be treated.

“They must be made to feel their inferiority otherwise they will be spoiled.

“If you get married, do as I do. Never tell her beforehand about a trip or a horseback ride. Just lead in your horse. “Where are you going, my dear?” she will ask the first or second time. Give no answer, but continue putting on your gloves.”Are you going to let me alone like this?” she will add stroking your cheeks. You seize your riding whip quickly and say,”Yes, I have to go to town. I have this and that to do. Goodby. And if I”m not back at nine o‘clock for supper, don’t wait for me.” She trembles, but you don’t pay any attention. She runs after you, but you signal with your whip for her to go back. She runs to the window, leans out and waves her handkerchief crying”Adrien!” But let her white banner wave and don’t bother. Dig in your spurs and get going! I swear that that’s the way to keep women respectful. By the third time, my wife asked no more questions and God be praised, the wailing has come to an end.”

A mere comparison of these two different attitudes makes the right one stand out clearly. There are some husbands who are blackguards; others who are gentlemen.

My choice is made.

MARRIAGE AND THE EUCHARIST (1)

A YOUNG lady before her marriage wrote to her future husband asking him to go to Holy Communion with her as often as possible;”The Eucharist is the sacrament of those who are engaged to be married because it is the Sacrament of Love.” So impressed was the young man by her thought and so much good did he derive from it, that he engraved the sentence on her tombstone when she was taken from him by an early death.

Marriage and the Eucharist . . . how true that they are both sacraments of love.

WHAT DOES LOVE REQUIRE?

Love expresses itself by these three needs: the need of the presence of the beloved, the need of union, the need of exchange of sacrifices. Each of the two sacraments satisfies this triple need.

Need of presence. In the Eucharist:”This is My Body.” God present in us in His divine nature by sanctifying grace received at baptism found the means to unite to Himself a human nature:”The Word was made flesh.” He was certain that under that new form He would find a way to make Himself present to humanity. Therefore, the Eucharist.

In marriage: Needless to mention the yearning the couple have to be together. If they talk, it will only be to tell each other how glad they are to be near each other. They may say nothing, but then in the deep silence which envelops them their souls will be knit together, they will commune and exchange the best of themselves. Silence between lovers is often more eloquent than words; the following advice of a Chinese sage to a young girl considering a proposal of marriage evidenced judgment and experience:

“If he tells you,”I love you more than all the world,” turn away your head and nonchalantly fuss with your hair. If he tells you,”I love you more than the golden rod in the temple,” adjust the folds of your dress and reproach him laughingly as if amused at his impiety.

“If he passes beneath your window on a white horse to say goodby because he prefers to die by a thrust of the sword than to despair, give him a flower and wish him a happy trip.

“But if he remains beside you, numb as a slave before a king and clumsy to the point of spilling tea on your blue tablecloth, then smile at him tenderly as you would for the one whom you wish to accept for always.”

Even though at the beginning of marriage, being together is unalloyed joy and there is no need to urge cohabitation upon the newlyweds, it can happen that in the long run unpleasantnesses arise; the charm of being together wanes perhaps because faults show up more readily than in the past or because the couple’s concept of marriage was overly romantic, not preparing them for the possible flaws in each other or simply because a man will never be anything else but a man and a woman never anything else but a woman, that is, two limited beings who can not avoid discovering their limitations sooner or later.

No one is obliged to marry. But once married, cohabitation is a duty. Canon Law states:”The spouses must observe the community of the conjugal life.” Saint Alphonsus says even more specifically,”The married are bound to cohabitation in one house to the sharing of bed and board.” Separation regarding the last two points can for just reasons, be permitted in certain cases. Grave reasons are necessary to dispense husbands and wives from living under the same roof; there is always the danger of scandal to be feared and, under the stress of temptations which may arise, also the danger of transforming simple separation of bodies into real divorce.

MARRIAGE AND THE EUCHARIST (2)

LOVE, which thrives on the mutual presence of the two who cherish each other and yearn for each other, also seeks physical expression.

It is true for marriage; it is true for the Eucharist.

That physical expression is a need of love, both experience and the most elementary psychology more than amply prove. Doesn’t a mother often say to her baby whom she is smothering with kisses,”I could just eat you up,” as if she vainly dreamed of being able to reincorporate it?

What is impossible to the mother is possible to Our Lord. He wanted to give Himself to us as food not so much that we might incorporate Him in ourselves as that He might incorporate us in Himself. In the case of ordinary food, it is the one who eats who assimilates. In the Eucharist, it is the Living Bread which assimilates us in Itself:”Take and eat, this is My Body; take and drink, this is My Blood. If you do not eat the Flesh of the Son of Man, you shall not have life in you. He who eats My Flesh and drinks My Blood shall have life everlasting.”

The Eucharist requires that we take it and consume it. The Host is not made for the eyes, to be seen, but to be eaten. It is not enough to look and to adore; we must receive and assimilate:”Take and eat.” The Real Presence is already a great gift and to be present at Benediction of the Most Blessed Sacrament a precious exercise which the Church praises. But that is not the whole significance of the Eucharist. The Eucharist demands communion, the common union . . . and what a closely bound community . . . of two beings who love each other, Christ and the Christian.

Because love is the ideal basis for the sacrament of matrimony, marriage in its turn dreams of physical expression.

Since it is concerned with uniting not angelic but human natures, that is, spirits within bodies, marriage, while it involves a union of souls, also normally involves a union of bodies which should facilitate the union of souls. It is the entire being of the one which seeks to become united with the entire being of the other.

It can then readily be understood how in view of the particular intimacy sought through bodily union, delicacy claims privacy. It is a good act without question and willed by God who by His nature can permit not even the shadow of sin. The Church, in the course of her history, condemned those overly severe moralists who wanted to oblige the married to go to confession before receiving Holy Communion if they had previously had intercourse.

There is no question about the couple’s right to all those marks of affection and tenderness which normally accompany the generative act. Still, between Christian husbands and wives, a wise modesty, not in the least fearful, but decently reserved, will be the rule.

The strict right by which sin is measured is one thing; quite different is the domain of perfection or even of imperfection which extends far beyond that and which is properly the course of Christian refinement.

STRANGE PROFANATION

MARRIAGE as a sacrament which should be based on love, looks to the conjugal act as an expression of love. And since this embrace is in the nature of the closest of intimacies, everyone understands that it demands unity of the couple. We have spoken of that before. But it is essential to be convinced of it on account of the objections that come up frequently in conversations and the arguments advanced by certain modern authors like Blum, or Montherlant or Lawrence. This last mentioned writer gives us a scene like the following:

Jack who is married to Monica by whom he has several children makes advances to Mary:

“Oh, Jack! You are married to Monica.”

“Am I? But she doesn’t belong entirely to me; she has her babies now. I shall love her again when she is free. Everything in season, even women. Now I love you after going for a long time without ever thinking of you. A man is not made for a single affair.”

“O God,” she cried.”You must be crazy. You still love Monica.”

“I shall love Monica again later. Now I love you. I don’t change, but sometimes it is the one, sometimes it is the other. Why not?”

Yes, Why not? Simply because the rule as regards marriage is not the mere caprice of man and the satisfaction of his sensual desires; because woman has a right to respect and to the pledge that has been given her; because marriage is made not for the individual but for the family, the social unit, and to carry on in such a fashion is the break down of the family.

But Jack-or rather Lawrence-hears nothing of all that.

“Mary, all alone, was incomplete. All women are but parts of a complete thing when they are left to themselves . . . They are but fragments . . . All women are but fragments.”

Where does such a theory originate if not in the unbounded sensuality of man? But Jack listens to nothing. What do judgments other than his own mean to him? As he said,”He hated the thought of being closed up with one woman and some youngsters in one house. No, several women, several houses, groups of youngsters; a camp not a home! Some women, not one woman. Let the world’s conventions be ignored. He was not one of those men for whom one woman was enough.”

Why doesn’t the logic of sensuality accord woman what man so brutally claims for himself? Are there two Moral Laws?

Here is another character, Helen. She is a doctor’s wife and his most devoted assistant. But she divorces him for a snob whose life is all race horses and receptions. There she is, soaked in worldliness. She gets another divorce to marry a young poet, the latest rage, and transforms herself into an intellectual . . . Marvelous richness of the feminine soul! Says your sophisticate, she is like a fountain of glistening water which catches its coloring, green, red, or blue according to the men she chooses in turn!

Are we dreaming? That’s the kind of thing we are likely to hear in certain gatherings and cocktail parties.

WHAT A PROFANATION OF LOVE!

Complete oblivion of the significance of the conjugal act! It is not only two distinct physical acts, but, through the medium of the body, a most ineffable exchange between two souls.

MARRIAGE AND THE EUCHARIST (3)

MARRIAGE as a sacrament that should be based on love in the beginning and that must foster love in those who receive it together expects the mutual presence of a respectful and devoted cohabitation. From the very nature of marriage there devolves the duty of union and of procreation.

Marriage requires still more . . . mutual sacrifice. And here again its similarity to the Eucharist is remarkable.

Our Lord instituted the Eucharist not only to give us His Presence, not only to provide us with the benefits of Holy Communion. Rich though these benefits be, they do not constitute the culminating benefit. What is the great wealth of the Eucharist?

On Calvary, Our Lord offered Himself all alone to His Father. But by His sacrifice He merited for us the grace to be grafted on Him. Stretched upon the bloody Arbor of Calvary Christ’s Hands and Feet and Side were cruelly notched; through the benefits of these divine openings we have gained the privilege, we wild offshoots since the time of Adam, branches deprived of divine life, to be set, to be grafted to the single Vine, the only Possessor of sanctifying sap.

Made other Christs that day, all Christians . . . Christiani . . . received the power, each time that the Lord Christ Jesus would repeat His sacrificial oblation of Calvary through the hands of His priest for the glory of the Father and the salvation of the world, to offer it with Him. This repetition of that offering is the Mass. Jesus, the divine Mediator, assumes again His attitude of Mediator; held between heaven and earth by the hands of the priest, He reiterates the dispositions of the complete immolation of Calvary.

On Golgotha, He was alone to carry through the sacrifice, the bloody sacrifice. Having been made that day by Him into Christ, we, since we are inseparable from Him except by sin, have the mission, whenever Christ renews His oblation, to offer it and to offer ourselves to Him. Effective participation in Mass is to be united with the Divine Head and all members of the Mystical Body in the intimacy of the same oblation renewed.

Jesus brings to us the benefits of His very own sacrifice; we bring to Him the offering of our own sacrifice. It is this part of the offering that the martyr’s relic in the altar stone and the drop of water into the wine at the Offertory represent; the union of two sacrifices in the unity of the same sacrifice.

Marriage will have to reach heights like that to succeed in satisfying the utmost demands of love. The husband must be ready to sacrifice all for his wife; the wife must be ready to sacrifice all for her husband. From these conjoined sacrifices, love is made; love likewise demands these conjoined sacrifices.

What shall I do to show my wife that I love her? What fine deed can I accomplish, what prowess display, what humble, noble act perform? That is the spirit of chivalry.

And the wife: What shall I do to make my husband happy?

What will give him pleasure?

This is the nourishment and the condition of love, the relish for mutual sacrifice.

MARRIAGE AND SACRIFICE

IT IS not only the highest Catholic doctrine which requires the spirit of sacrifice of the married couple but more immediate common experience.

To live mutually in the closest proximity, in constant forgetfulness of self so that each of the two thinks only of the other requires something more than mere human attraction.

“Do not believe those who tell you that the road of love offers only the softest moss for your feet to tread. There are some sharp pebbles on the trail blazed by Adam and Eve.”

The married woman who wrote those lines in verse, said the same thing in prose, a prose strangely poetic:

“To enter into marriage with the idea that someday they will be rid of self is like putting a moth into a piece of wool. Whatever may be the embroidery, the gold threads, the rich colors, the piece of wool is destined to be eaten, chewed with holes and finally completely devoured. It would be necessary for two saints to marry to be sure that no bitter word would ever be exchanged between them; even then it is not predictable what misunderstandings might crop up. Did not Saint Paul and Saint Barnabas have to separate because they had too many altercations? Then, can these two unfortunate children of Adam and Eve destined to struggle in life with all that life brings in our days of recurring difficulties expect never to have any temptations to wound each other and never to succumb to such provocations?”

If marriage is difficult even when the husband is a saint and the wife is a saint, how can we estimate the sacrifices it will require when the couple are to put it briefly but”poor good Christians.”

Here however we are discussing the case of two who are sustained by dogma, morals, and the sacraments. But suppose one of the couple is a sort of pagan, or if baptized, so far removed from his baptism that nothing recalls any longer the mark of the children of God. What a secret cause for suffering!

Such was the suffering of Elizabeth Leseur who was happy in her married life in the sense that her husband was completely loyal to her but unhappy in her home because on the fundamental point for union, there was disunion, a separated life, the wife being Christian to the degree of astonishing intimacy with God and the husband remaining perfectly satisfied with the superficial life of so-called society.

Even when souls live in closest harmony, there will always be, even in the best of homes, a hidden cause for mutual suffering, which one author calls,”the eternal tragedy of the family, due to the fact that man and woman represent two distinct worlds whose limits never overlap.” For woman love is everything. For man it is but a part of life. The woman’s whole life rotates about the interior of the home, unless necessity forces her to work to earn a livelihood. The husband lives whole days much more outside the home than in it; he has his business, his office, his store, his shop, his factory. Except for the early days of his married life, he is absorbed more by ambition than by love; in any case, his heart alone is not busy throughout his days, but also and frequently more often, his head.

Sometimes the wife suffers from not having her husband sufficiently to herself; the husband suffers because he appears not to be devoting himself sufficiently to his wife. Over and above other causes of tragedy, here is the eternal and hidden drama. Much virtue is needed by both to accept the suffering they unwittingly cause each other.

A MYSTIC MORAL BOND

ASIDE from the helps of Faith, two things especially can aid the married couple to practice mutual forbearance and to accept the sacrifices inherent in life together.

The first is the fact of their mutual share in the birth of their progeny.

Saint Augustine speaks beautifully of the two little arms of a child which draw the father and mother more closely together within the circle of their embrace as if to symbolize the living bond of union the child really is between them.

Even when one’s choice of a marriage partner has been perfect, when ardent tenderness is evinced on both sides, there can still develop a period of tenseness and strained relations. Who can best reconcile the two souls momentarily at odds, upset for a time, or somewhat estranged?

The child.

Someone has said it well:”Life is long, an individual changes in the course of ten, fifteen, twenty years shared with another. If the couple that has a had a fall out, has known love in its fullness. I mean by that the love of hearts and souls above all . . . , if the two have the noble and deep memories which constitute our true nourishment during our voyage on earth, if they are above all bound together by the children that their love has brought into the world, then there is a good chance that even though they are caught by the undertow of passion, they will emerge safe and sound.”

In addition to having children . . . that bond of love between the father and mother even in the greatest stress and strain . . . what most contributes to a speedy reconciliation after the clashes that eventually arise or the misunderstandings which set them at odds is the thought that they must endure, they must remain together.

What is to be thought of the following practice which is becoming quite customary? In the preparation of the trousseau, only the bride’s initial is engraved on the silverware or embroidered on the linen. Does it not seem to be a provision for the possibility of a future separation?

By the constant repetition of the idea that man is fickle and that”her husband is the only man a woman can never get used to,” the novel, the theater, the movies, set the stamp of approval on the”doctrine” of the broken marriage bond as something normal, something to be expected.

“On the contrary,” says Henriette Charasson, who is a married woman and an author quoted before,”if husbands and wives realized that they were united for life, if they knew that nothing could permit them to establish another family elsewhere, how vigilant they would be not to let their precious and singular love be weakened; how they would seek, throughout their daily ups and downs, to keep vibrant, burning, and radiant, the love which binds them not only by the bond of their flesh but by the bond of their soul.”

We must thank God if He has blessed our home by giving us many precious children; thank Him also for the Christian conviction which we received formerly in our homes, convictions which will never permit us to consider the possibility of the least fissure in our own family now.

A FATHER’S ANSWER TO HIS DAUGHTER

IN THE book “My Children and I” by Jerome K. Jerome, which is as full of humor as of common sense, a young girl tells her father that she is frightened at the possibility of love’s brevity.

“Love,” she says,”is only a stratagem of nature to have fun at our expense. He will tell me that I am everything to him. That will last six months, maybe a year if I am lucky, provided I don’t come home with a red nose from walking in the wind; provided he doesn’t catch me with my hair in curlers. It is not I whom he needs but what I represent to him of youth, novelty, mystery. And when he shall be satisfied in that? . . .”

Her father answers,”When the wonder and the poetry of desire shall be extinguished what will remain for you will be what already existed before the desire. If passion alone binds you, then God help you! If you have looked for pleasure only, Poor You! But if behind the lover, there is a man (let us add a Christian); if behind this supposed goddess, sick with love, there is an upright and courageous woman (again let us add Christian); then, life is before you, not behind you. To live is to give not to receive. Too few realize that it is the work which is the joy not the pay; the game, not the points scored; the playing, not the gain. Fools marry, calculating the advantages they can draw from marriage, and that results in absolutely nothing. But the true rewards of marriage are called work, duty, responsibility. There are names more beautiful than goddess, angel, star, and queen; they are wife and mother.

Marriage is a sacrifice.

In order to live these four last words,”Marriage is a sacrifice,” it is not enough to have started off on a good footing, to be enthusiastic about fine ideals, to put all hope in mutual tenderness.

Since marriage calls for more than ordinary sacrifice, it will be necessary in order to remain faithful to the habit of sacrifice, to have more than ordinary helps.

We have already meditated on the similarity between the Eucharist and marriage; we have seen that not only is there a bond of resemblance between these two sacraments but that there is in the Eucharist, above all in participation in the Eucharistic sacrifice and in Holy Communion a singular help for the married.

Prayer together must also be a help. Someone has rightly said,”The greatest sign of conjugal love is not given by encircling arms in an embrace but by bended knees in common prayer.

In his “Confessions,” Saint Augustine describes his last evening with his mother at Ostia. It is worth quoting. When a husband and wife have reached such a degree of soul-union in God, they can face all life’s tempests without trembling.

“Forgetting the past and looking toward the future, we pondered together in Your Presence, O my God, the living Truth, on what the eternal life of the elect would be like. . . . We came to this conclusion: The sensible pleasures of the flesh in their intensest degree and in all the attractiveness that material things can have, offer nothing that can compare with the sweetness of the life beyond, nor do they even deserve mention. In a transport of love, we tried to lift ourselves to You there. . . .”

I must understand more clearly than in the past how essential it is to be rooted in prayer and if possible in prayer together.

I will meditate on this again.

TRANSPORTED TOGETHER

WE ARE not considering the word “transported” in its emotional and rapturous sense, not as a paroxysm of exaltation, but rather in the sense of an ascent in a vehicle toward a determined destination.

Marriage is a trip for two. A trip. They travel ahead, enjoying mutual happiness on earth even as their destination gets nearer; and farther on, over there, up yonder, they shall both have the happiness of paradise.

Do I have my destination, our common destination, sufficiently before my eyes . . . sanctity here below, then death; then in the next life, the reward for our mutual efforts on earth?

How quickly we slip along hardly noticing our advance; I am scarcely aware of having started on the way. How distant the end seems; it escapes my sight; I am all taken up with what is right before me; I can’t see the forest for the trees.

Am I advancing? In sanctity? In union with God? In patience?

In purity? In charity? In generosity?

How many questions? Am I really asking them of myself? And if I am, how must I answer them if I want to be honest?

But I am not alone. This is a trip in company with others. We are several; we are two not counting the children.

How do I conduct myself toward this company, my co-travellers?

HOW DO I ACT TOWARD THE PARTNER OF MY LIFE?

A recent”before and after” cartoon gave a series of pictures indicating changes in attitude toward one’s life companion:

During the engagement period, the young man is holding the umbrella very solicitously over his fiancee’s head with no regard for the rain pouring down on him. Shortly after marriage, he holds the umbrella between them so that each receives an equal share of the raindrops. A long time later in marriage, the husband is no longer concerned about his wife; he holds the umbrella over his head and lets his wife get soaked to saturation.

Is that a reality or only an accusation? Selfishness so quickly regains its empire. It is not always bad will; inattention, perhaps, plain and simple. Yes, but isn’t even that too bad?

What happened to all the little attentions of courtship and the honeymoon days? Those countless delicate considerations? The constant thought of the other?

There is the root of much suffering especially for the wife who is keener, more affectionate, more sensitive; she thinks she is cast off. She lets it be known on occasions. Oh, not bluntly, but with that subtle art she has for allusions, implications, and expressive silences. She might upbraid:”If you were in such a situation, if you were with such and such a person, I am sure you would be so obliging, so engaging, so attentive. But it is only I. Consequently you don’t have to bother, isn’t that so?” And, little by little, bitterness creeps in. It was nothing at all to start with. They made something- matter for friction.

I know a priest who wanted to preserve until he was at least eighty all the freshness of his priesthood:”I shall never let myself get used to celebrating Holy Mass.” I should be able to say the same thing in regard to the sacrament I have received, the sacrament of marriage:”I will preserve my love in all its freshness. I shall remain considerate, delicately attentive. I shall do everything in my power to travel forward together not only in peace but in light and mutual joy.

SINGLE THOUGH TWO

ANNA DE NOAILLES, a French poetess, summed up her unhappy married life in the words, “I am alone with someone.

It is an expressive but sinister remark.

People marry in order to be two, but two in one, not to continue to be alone, alone although with someone.

Aloneness for two can have a double cause:

1. Waiting too long to have children through a mutual agreement at the beginning of married life.

2. Loving each other too much perhaps. Too much, selfishly of course. Man and wife united, together, yes; and in this sense, it is not the solitude of which Anna de Noailles spoke. But if their union for two deserves rather to be called selfishness for two, it is not a true union.

These are the reefs upon which many a marriage has been wrecked.

Granted that if they do nothing to prevent generation, they do not sin . . . at least not against the law of chastity for marriage; but besides going counter to the law of fecundity, they are running the risk of sterility.

If they wait too long to have their brood, the nest hardens, loses its softness and adaptability. They get so accustomed to being only two that the presence of a third, even though the fruit of their union, does not seem desirable. There will always be time later, later! Let us enjoy each other first.

Selfishness for two: conjugal solitude. And let us add, a risk for later on. The wife will probably suffer from not being able to be a mother; the husband gets used to seeing in her only a wife.”It is in springtime,” the proverb picturesquely says,”that the father bird learns to do his duty.” The wife is very imprudent if she lets her husband prolong unduly a sort of bachelorhood; let her teach him how to assume his duties without too much delay.

There can be another reason more harmful still for this being alone though two and that is born of opposition of characters.

Generally it does not appear in the first years of married life.

Everything is marvelous then, sunshine and moonlight.

Though there may be exceptions, they are rare.

But there comes a time when tension creeps in, more or less restrained, then hidden resentment, finally opposition if not with weapons at least by tongue lashings, sullen silences, disagreeable attitudes. There is in every man, even a married man the stuff of an old bachelor; in every woman, even a married woman, something of . . . well, a person shouldn’t really use that word to speak of unmarried women.

When husbands and wives notice their rising irritability, they should take hold of their hearts with both hands so to speak and refrain from words they will regret soon after. If they have the courage, let them have an understanding with each other as soon as possible. They should learn not to notice every little thing; to forget with untiring patience all the little pricks; to remember only the joys they lived through together; to make a bouquet of them, not a faded bouquet like dried out artificial flowers that are kept in a drawer, but alive and fresh, beautiful enough to be put in full view on the mantlepiece.

Everything that is typical of the single life is taboo. They are united. They are to remain united. Two in one. In one: It is not always easy; it is always necessary.

MARRIAGE AND THE PRIESTHOOD (1)

THERE is a greater resemblance between the sacrament of matrimony and the sacrament of Holy Orders than is immediately evident. The encyclical”Casti Connubii” of Pope XI does not fail to point it out. Here are a few similarities:

1. Although the sacrament of matrimony does not like Holy Orders impart a special character to the soul, it does consecrate”ministers” appointed to communicate grace. The priest is but a witness at the marriage. It is not the priest who marries but the man and woman who marry themselves who by exchanging their mutual”yes” give to each other more divine life. A sublime dignity which we have considered before.

2. Both marriage and Holy Orders give and sustain life. Holy Orders, supernatural life; marriage, natural life. The object of marriage, however, is not only the formation of bodies, but also the education of souls; procreation is nothing if it does not duplicate itself in education. It is up to the parents to get their children baptized, to prepare them for their First Holy Communion, to help in their religious formation, to assist them to remain in grace, a ministry which paves the way for the ministry of the priest, makes it possible and doubles its value.

3. Marriage and Holy Orders are both “social sacraments”; they are not intended only and principally for the personal sanctification of the recipients but are directed more especially to the general good of the Christian community. The priest is not a priest for himself; he is ordained for the sheep entrusted to him; he is commissioned to work for the flock the bishop designates for him. Parents are not married only for their own good; they are married for the good of the children who will be born of them.

When the number of priests decreases, what harm results for the spiritual future of society! (Isn “t today’s terrible proof of this a real anguish for the heart?) If marriage is not undertaken by the fit, or the fit determined to fulfill its obligations, what harm will ensue for the temporal future of society!

4. Those who receive the sacrament of matrimony are vowed just as truly as is the priest to the exercise of charity.

For the priest it is clear. A bishop is established in the state of perfection by his very function which is to spend himself- to the giving of his life if necessary-for the welfare of the faithful. Because he is perpetually in the state of complete charity, we say that he is in the state of perfection, perfection consisting in the more or less extensive and permanent exercise of charity. Priests share in this state of holiness of the bishop. They must spend themselves for their sheep, be ready day and night to bring them spiritual help, to do all in their power to instruct them in the Word of God, to prevent them from losing their souls, to lead them back to the fold if they are tempted to go astray.

The married are, in their turn, and in a broad sense, established to a degree in a state which can, if they live it as they should, bring them to high perfection.

Ought not the husband exert himself with his whole soul for the well-being of his wife and children; should he not work and spend himself for love of them?

And what about the wife and mother? The pelican appears on the chasuble of the priest to symbolize his duty to imitate Christ by giving his very heart’s blood for the faithful. Could it not also be a symbol for maternal sacrifice?

MARRIAGE AND THE PRIESTHOOD (2)

PRIESTS receive Holy Orders at the foot of the altar, so too do the bride and groom receive the sacrament of matrimony.

It is as if the Church appointed the same place for the reception of both sacraments because she wished to emphasize the relationship between matrimony and Holy Orders.

Now that we have seen the points of resemblance between them, we are ready to draw some profitable conclusions:

1. The two who are married are called to help each other in the life of grace. Therefore the couple will become channels in the communication of grace in proportion to each one’s own wealth in the divine life. What a long preparation the priest must have for his priesthood-long years in the seminary, the reception of minor Orders before admittance to the priesthood, the retreats before each of his ordinations.

By contrast, how many enter upon marriage with no preparation. Even when they do prepare for it and give it thought, how superficial and brief their preparation is; how easily lost are the effects by a flood of social events and distractions. Strange conduct!

2. The two joined by marriage will have to propagate life, and what is more, a life which will resemble theirs. A most frequent comment made over a new baby, a comment which is quite telling is “Why, he’s his father all over,” or “She’s a vest-pocket edition of her mother.” What if this is to be true morally as well? What am I, the father, like? Or I, the mother? Do I really want this little one to resemble me? Oh, no! I want it to be better, much better than I!

But am I free, as I go along, to weaken what I expect to transmit and what I expect to keep for myself? No. I can refrain from begetting children, but if I do have them, I must know that they will resemble me. I ought not to have to say as someone said,”My children will be like me, but you will have to forgive them for it.”

Is that not a thought that should move me strongly to sanctify myself?

Since I am not only to beget children, but I must also rear them, ought I not examine myself on the degree of my virtue? Is it such that I can really contribute to the advancement of other souls, to contribute to the growth of the Mystical Body of Christ, to intensify the supernatural in the souls around me-my partner in marriage, my children?

The Cure of Ars once asked a priest who was complaining over his lack of influence on his parishioners:”Have you fasted, taken the discipline, struggled in prayer?” In other words,”Have you pushed your efforts in prayer, penance, and sanctification to the highest point?”

Perhaps I complain of my powerlessness with one of the children. Have I taken all the means to draw down God’s maximum graces upon me? Souls cost dearly. To be sure there is always individual free will to contend with; it can resist God; it can resist the prayer and the parents” striving after holiness. I may not get discouraged. Have I not perhaps been measuring out my generosity a bit too carefully? I shall try to reach the heights. We cannot lift up unless we ourselves are higher.

I should see, in the light of the parallel between the sacrament of matrimony and the sacrament of Holy Orders, the extent of my responsibilities. Like priests, I have a heavy responsibility. A magnificent responsibility but a frightening responsibility! If I am only so-so, I shall-according to the logic of things and barring a miracle of God’s grace-rear souls who are only so-so.

IS THAT WHAT I WANT?

Have I up to now measured how far-reaching my mission actually is?

MASCULINE TREASON

WOMEN have their faults; while they are generally more irritating than man “s, they are less to be feared. Man more readily betrays; he is more truly all of a piece; when he falls, it is the whole way.

That should not cause a wife to be constantly on needles and pins; it is harmful for the man and she does herself great harm by so acting, for nothing will as quickly drive her husband into another woman’s arms as jealousy in his lawful wife.

The knowledge of man’s tendency should incite the husband to watch over himself more closely to avoid imprudence that might run into flirtation, then into a friendship, then into adultery. The spirit is willing but the flesh is weak, above all in the strong sex.

Even in cases where the quality of the person, the honor of the family name, nobility of origin would seem to give every guarantee of perseverance in good, we sometimes meet lamentable examples of a man’s infidelity to his home.

In the diary of Eugenie de Caucy, the second wife of Marshal Oudinot, it is related that on Sunday of shrove-tide 1820, there was a very spectacular showing of”Le Carnival de Venise” at the Opera.

The Duke de Berry had left the theatre before the last act to escort his wife to her carriage. Upon turning to go back to his box he was mortally wounded by the anarchist Louvel.

He asked for a priest and then made another request:”I want to see all my children.” The people about him knew only of Mademoiselle, the four year old daughter, the child of his marriage with the Duchesse.

His wife, the Duchess, did not dare to understand his request.

He explained,”My wife, I admit, I have several children.

Through a liaison of mine in England I had two daughters.”

He died shortly after, asking mercy for his murderer and regretting from the depths of his soul, a little late to be sure, his unfaithful conduct.

Many thoughts suggest themselves on hearing such a story. First of all, think of dying in such a setting! Yet, there is certainly nothing wrong with attending a play if the play is morally good; we just have to remember to be always ready wherever we are; death can strike us in society and even while we are in the proximate occasion of sin.

Another more appalling thought is the wife’s ignorance of her husband’s life. How can a man so betray the one to whom he has pledged his faith? Furthermore, how brazen, to ask a young girl to be his wife, the cherished companion of his life after giving if not his heart at least his body to another woman! Truly, man is not charming! Not that woman is incapable of betrayal and of giving herself unlawfully, but we should like to think that it happens more rarely.

Finally a third observation comes to mind-the picture of this man lying in his blood, confessing his past and by this act of humility, which is to his credit, trying to redeem the failings of the past.

Thanks to God’s grace, I have not similar failings on my conscience. But are there not many thoughts, many desires, certain types of reading, much imprudence even in act, and unwarranted liberties of which I have been guilty? If those about me knew what I really am, how would they judge me?

MARRIAGE AND THE COUNSELS (1)

IS IT possible to arrive at perfection without following the evangelical counsels?

Put in this way, the question can have two answers depending on whether the effective practice of the counsels is to be understood or simply the spirit of the counsels.

1. Perfection consists in the exercise of charity as the duty of one’s state implies it.”Be ye perfect as your heavenly

Father is perfect” was said to all not just to priests and religious.

And again to all,”Thou shalt love the Lord, thy God, with thy whole heart, and with thy whole soul and with thy whole mind and with all thy strength.”

The perfection of charity is commanded to all and not only counselled.

That the evangelical counsels are a help to the exercise of the virtue of charity for those who have elected to live by them is certain; they are not the only means.

The Gospel makes it perfectly clear: There is the observance of the Commandments-a necessity for all; there is the observance of the counsels-for those who desire it; those only would be obliged to adopt this second means who have evidence that without them they could not attain their salvation-a rare case indeed.

2. But it appears to be a very difficult thing to arrive at the perfection of charity without adopting the spirit of the counsels.

In fact there are three great obstacles to the perfect service of God: excessive attachment to the goods of earth; the tendency to seek purely selfish satisfactions where the affections of the heart are concerned; finally the habit of obeying not so much God’s will for our life as personal caprice and the false demands of the world. From this it is evident that the pursuit of perfection presupposes the spirit of detachment; it means using things, as

Saint Paul would say, as if we did not use them at all. That suggestion is good not only for life in the cloister but every bit as good if not more so, in view of the greater difficulty, in the simple life of observing the Commandments. The spirit of poverty in either case is essential.

The pursuit of perfection while living in the midst of the world likewise calls for the spirit of chastity, the chastity of the heart-not to the point of having to deprive themselves of everything as those do who are vowed to the virginal state but to the point of the privations necessary to meet the demands of the conjugal state. Therefore, the spirit of chastity is equally essential.

Striving for perfection in the midst of the world still allows the individual entire liberty regarding many of the details of life, the so-called good things of life as well as ideas, companionship, dress. The soldier Ernest Psichari yearned as he used to say”to be free of everything except Jesus Christ.”

Strive for obedience to God alone who said”Seek ye first the kingdom of God and all the rest shall be added unto you.” I must not let”the rest” take precedence over”the Kingdom.”

Obedience to God should not be marked by formal passivity but by vision and conviction. Let me measure the distance from the place I am now to the summit of Christianity.

MARRIAGE AND THE COUNSELS (2)

THIS subject has too great significance for one meditation only. Before the Fall there was a triple harmony in man:

Harmony between God and the soul: Adam and Eve conversed familiarly with the Most High who used to walk with them at twilight in Paradise; He often left His footprints in the sands of their garden.

Harmony within man himself between his body and soul:

The senses were active but they were submissive to reason and will; concupiscence existed but it was just concupiscence not evil concupiscence; the powers of desire were not inordinate.

Harmony all about man, between him and nature: The animals were subject to him and were not hostile to him. Inanimate nature did not refuse its secrets to his work which was but a joyous extension of his activity and not as it has become in part at least-fatiguing labor.”You shall eat your bread in the sweat of your brow.”

Then came the Fall. Immediately this beautiful balance was destroyed. Man revolted against God. The result: Man’s senses rose up against right reason and will enlightened by faith; nature and all about man turned hostile. There would be wild beasts and venomous creatures among the animals; the earth would resist his toil and the labor of generations to come, revealing its treasures only with discouraging parsimony and at the cost of fearful toil and sweat.

What should be most profitable for my meditation is the consideration of the revolt in man himself, his lower powers against his higher powers. From then on man would have to struggle against the triple and fatal inclination which was born in him:

An inclination to take an exaggerated possession of the goods of the earth, the fruit of concupiscence of the eyes:

Man will rush after all that glitters. How many crimes have been committed because of an unregulated love of money!

An inclination to seek after excessive carnal satisfactions contrary to true discipline of the senses and the commands of God. What crimes have not the follies of lust produced!

An inclination to pride: Man, proud of his liberty, but not sufficiently concerned about keeping it in dependence on reason and the Divine Will, runs the risk of forgetting the majesty and sovereignty of God and the prime duty of obedience to the Master of all.

How can one struggle effectively against this triple and dangerous inclination?

Do violence to self, declare spiritual writers with good common sense. First and foremost among them in suggesting this technique is Saint Ignatius of Loyola. Choose the counterpart: poverty, chastity, obedience.

Religious men and women make it the matter of a vow. Their lives serve as an inspiring example to draw forward those whose lesser courage or less demanding vocation have kept in the common way of life.

I shall hold religious life in high esteem. Although my vocation is different I shall learn to live in a wise spirit of detachment from created things, of chastity according to my state, and of obedience to the Holy Spirit.

MARRIAGE AND VOWS

THE problem of personal vocation, as I have seen from my meditations, is not a problem to be solved in the abstract, in pure theory, but in the concrete, taking each particular case into consideration. The best vocation in an individual case is not the vocation which is best in itself but the best in fact, that is the one which Divine Providence prepares for each person.

I have recognized mine quite clearly. I have no worry on that score.

Without wishing to belittle in the least the merits of those who pronounce religious vows-for they are privileged souls- can I not in a way compare my life with theirs and find a resemblance between them?

In the writings of his mother which the poet Lamartine published we find these lines:

“Today I attended the Investment of some hospital sisters. The sermon which was addressed to them was beautiful: The speaker told them that they had chosen for life a state of penance and of mortification. A crown of thorns was placed upon their heads to symbolize this . . . I greatly admired their self-sacrifice; but I reflected that the state of a mother of a family can approach the perfection of theirs if she fulfills her duties.

“A person doesn’t give enough thought to the fact that when she marries she also makes a vow of poverty since she practically puts her fortune into her husband’s hands, and that he has something to say about how she spends money.

“She makes a vow of obedience to her husband and a vow of chastity inasmuch as she is not permitted to seek to please any other man. She also dedicates herself to the exercise of charity toward her husband and her children; she has the obligation to care for them in sickness and to give them her wise counsel.”

Isn’t there much truth in this comparison? Evidently in the case of marriage, husbands and wives are largely compensated for the sacrifices they have to make by the joy that comes to them from life together. In the virginal state there is no such human compensation. That is no reason to underestimate the value of the married state. Because the one state is more beautiful, it does not follow that the other is not very beautiful.

It may well be that a certain father or mother who hesitated before entering the married state because they felt called to the life of consecrated virginity fulfilled God’s plans for religious vocations better by their marriage; God used them as instruments for a series of vocations that would develop among their offspring.

When Pius X was promoted to the bishopric of Mantua, he paid a visit to his mother at Riese.”Mamma, look at my beautiful episcopal ring.” His eighty year old mother let her wrinkled fingers pass over the ring thoughtfully. Then she said,”It is true, Guiseppe; your ring is beautiful; but you would not have had it, if I had not had this one,” and she held up her wedding ring.

THE SOCIAL IDEAL

YOUNG Maurice Retour found himself at the head of a textile factory upon the early death of his father. Shortly before his marriage, he wrote to his bride-to-be.

“To know that more than three hundred persons depend on you for their daily bread, to be certain that with work, intelligence, and patience you can make them earn more, what else would you need to become inspired with the desire to discover all possible improvements.”

He let his fiancee know that he planned to have her share in the furtherance of his enterprise. He added:

“To be a Christian, to have the happiness of knowing your wife will one day work hand in hand with you, to feel that you possess this sister-soul to help bring to success the noble and beautiful ideal you dreamed of accomplishing is almost too great a bliss; it’s enough to make you beside yourself with joy.”

The young industrialist, in full agreement with his wife, set himself to the duty of providing the desired improvements: a free Saturday, a cafeteria for the workers, a benefit fund. Naturally he was criticized by his fellow industrialists who did not have a like Christian sense. But he held his own and went even farther. Sometimes before some of his reforms which had as their only purpose better conditions for the workers, a number of the workers themselves either from force of habit or ill-will evidenced displeasure. He still kept to his plan, tried to win them over and was patient with them.

In spite of his firm principles, the exactness of his economic and sociological knowledge, his good judgment, his Christian spirit which guaranteed the usefulness of his efforts, he was still eager to be supported in his labors; he told his wife his difficulties and asked for her opinion and advice. He counted on her either to help him to study and to grow in his understanding of social problems or more often still to have a part in his work.

In the fight against alcoholism, in the care of the workers” children, in the visitation of the sick, in planning for big celebrations, in organizing vacation camps, what a wide field there was for the wife of an industrialist!

Maurice Retour did not believe in getting himself involved in so many activities that he would neglect his factory; interest in free schools, attendance at Saint Vincent de Paul meetings were all fine, but they should not separate him from his factory.

“We ought to think first of our workers, of their children, of those who are in our direct contact in order not to scatter our efforts in all directions uselessly. Let us try to sow a bit of happiness about us . . . Let us give as much as we can to others . . . We are responsible for the good we do not do . . . All our life spent in this work hand in hand, united in the same ideal, the same faith, the same great love would not be too much.”

From the Front in 1915, he often wrote asking for news:”Tell me about our dear workers of whom I think so often.”

What a god-send when a wife finds in her husband such a magnificent social spirit; when an industrialist finds in his wife someone who understands him and backs him up!

Nihil Obstat:

JOHN M. A. FEARNS, S.T.D., Censor Librorum

Imprimatur:

@ FRANCIS CARDINAL SPELLMAN,

Archbishop of New York

New York, June 19, 1951

The Nihil Obstat and Imprimatur are official declarations that a book or pamphlet is free of doctrinal or moral error. No implication is contained therein that those who have granted the Nihil Obstat and Imprimatur agree with the contents, opinions or statements expressed.

Christ In The Home 2

BY RAOUL PLUS, S.J

A TRANSLATION FROM THE FRENCH

INDEX

THE HOME

GREAT ADVENTURERS

CHARLES PEGUY called fathers of families, “these great adventurers of the modern world.” How correct he was! What courage is needed to step out before life, with a companion on one’s arm, aspiring to have children and hoping that Mother Earth will be able to support and nourish their own little world! Certainly the joy that attends the birth of a babe is sweet. Here is how a father describes it:

When one sees a little one so weak yet so well formed one loves the Creator still more and how much more one thanks Him for giving us life! What a beautiful mystery maternity is! To see a young mother feeding her babe suffices to incite one to adore God. There is nothing more touching than to see this dear little treasure resting in the arms of its mother. It was baptized on March 28. What a majestic ceremony it was and how proud one feels to be able to say his son is a Christian!

But what anguish is suffered if the children are sick; if the mother’s strength fails beneath her work. How anxious one grows when the little ones cough and gasp for breath. And even if all goes well as far as health is concerned, there is no end to buying clothes, having shoes resoled, and providing food for the ever hungry mouths.

When the children grow up, one must be concerned about their education. One must start thinking about high school and college for the boys and the girls. Which school is best? Which teachers are best qualified? Will they take the same interest in our children that we the parents do? Will they give them what they really need to face life? . . .

Then come the sudden worries -auto accidents, accidents in sports, war in which the worst bodily dangers threaten!

But worse still and more serious by far are the soul dangers-the boy who keeps bad hours, who has an evil tongue and a shifty glance, who evades questions and begins to lie.

Yes, indeed, what magnificent and courageous adventurers are fathers of families!

A reporter recounted the enthusiastic acclaim the people of Paris gave the intrepid sailor Alain Gerbault who had succeeded in sailing around the world in a very frail skiff.

“For my part,” said the reporter, “I gave to Alain Gerbault the recognition that was his due.”

But in the crowd that had gathered about the famous sailor, the newspaper man found himself next to a family of rather humble means to judge by their appearance, although they did not lack dignity. There were five children with the father and mother,all modestly and neatly dressed. The father was explaining to his sons, “Oh, what an admirable type is this Gerbault! What a hero!”

“I shared that idea,” commented the reporter, “but I thought that father was also a hero to pilot a skiff loaded down with children on the parisian ocean as he was doing. . . . I even wondered if it were not more admirable than to guide a boat on the high sea with only oneself to think of.”

THE PSALM OF YOUNG MOTHERS

A YOUNG mother-very true to her role of mother and at the same time very artistic-got the idea of comparing her role with that of cloistered sisters. Between her washing, her cooking and the care of her youngest, she managed to compose “The Psalm of Young Mothers” which appeared in the 8 November issue of “Marriage Chretien.” It is full of love, full of spontaneity. Every young mother will recognize herself in these passages we are quoting:

“O my God

Like our sisters in the cloister

We have left all for you;

We have not imprisoned the youth of our faces in a guimpe and under a veil,

And though we have cut our hair, it is not in any spirit of penance. . . .

Deign nevertheless, O Lord, to cast a look of complaisance

On the humble little sacrifices

Which we offer You all day long,

Since the day our groaning flesh gave life to all these little

CHRISTIANS

We are rearing for You.

Our liberty, O God, is in the hands of these little tyrants who claim it every minute.

The house has become our cloister,

Our life has its unchanging Rule,

And each day its Office, always the same;

The Hours for dressing and for walks,

The Hours for feeding and for school,

We are bound by the thousand little demands of life.

Detached by necessity every moment from our own will, We live in obedience. Even our nights do not belong to us;

We too have our nocturnal Office,

When we must rise quickly for a sick child,

Or when between midnight and two o‘clock,

When we are in the full sleep we need so badly

A little untimely chanter Begins to sing his Matins.

We practically live retired from the world:

There is so much to be done in the house.

THERE IS NO POSSIBILITY OF GOING OUT ANYWAY WITHOUT A faithful sitter for the little ones.

We measure out the time for visits parsimoniously.

We have no sisters to relieve us on another shift.

And when the calls for service reach high pitch for us

We have to sweep, to wash the dishes, scrape the carrots for the stew, prepare a smooth puree for baby and keep on going without stopping

From the children’s room to the kitchen and to and fro.

We do big washings we rub and we rinse

Aprons and shirts, underclothes and socks

And all the baby’s special things.

In this life of sacrifice, come to our help, O Jesus!

UP TO DATE

ONE of our modern novels gives us the following situation: Gina Valette is a woman who is “up to date” in the unpleasant sense of the term. Very rich and provided with a husband who thoroughly spoils her, she has dogs, cats, a parrot, and a monkey, but no children. Her brilliant existence palls on her. Among her friends are mothers with children who courageously use their modest resources to advantage and rear quite a family. Often when an epidemic breaks out among the children of a family, a friend of the family will take two or three of the others for the time.

To cure Gina of her depressed spirits, her friend Jamine persuades her to take young Gilles Perdrinix whose five brothers and sisters have the chickenpox. Gina is bewildered; she knows perfectly how to care for a monkey but she finds herself embarrassed before this little Perdrinix boy who judged her severely from the height of his four years.

“How ignorant she is! How much is lacking in her training!” Little Gilles sighed to think of it. “She knows how to smoke,” he said to himself sadly, “but she can’t give me a lift to button my shirt.” He did not complain nor did he reproach her; but on seeing her so clumsy, he thought she had much to learn to become a woman like other women.

Happily there are other kinds.

A mother of a family and a brilliant author wrote in the preface of a volume on “The Mother” which she was requested to write by the editor of a series entitled “The Up to Date Woman,” “How shall I ever write this little book? There are no up-todate mothers. There are only Mammas.”

And with charming dash coupled with irresistible conviction she gave young wives this advice:

“Little Lady, you are embarking upon married life on the arm of a husband who is all taken up with you, who probably wants nothing more than to believe in you, to follow you and to approve of everything that touches the essence of your being. Do not listen to those frustrated women or those soured unmarried girls, or those Jezebels who have nothing of the matron about them but their age and have no real experience; do not let them draw you out of the right way. Be convinced, that the joy which babies bring is inexpressible and makes up for all the torment and fatigue of bearing them. Be certain that the sight of that plump, smooth little body; of those dimpled hands and feet, both like pink silk yet provided with sharp nails; of that darling little mouth with its toothless smile, so simple and so trustful that the bright look, so marvelously pure, the soft cheeks, the silky hair, the utter quiet abandonment of this little being who issued forth from us floods our soul with an intense and intimate ecstasy such as I have never known before.

If only the up-to-date woman would be a mother for the future.

After the dark hours of the war, new life must be born.

There will be lives only if there are mothers, mothers who respond to their essential and divine vocation.

Even if there were not this motive of special need, eternal reasons still have force-the law of fecundity and the law of chastity:

Although it is permissible for married persons to abstain from the conjugal act or to perform it only when there is the least possibility of conception provided their reasons are not selfish; if they do perform the marital act they may do nothing to prevent the generation of a life which is in the plan of God. That is clear.

Give me, O my God, the grace through respect for You and for Your work, always to have a devotion to and a respect for life; grant that I may never sully my own existence by any criminal attempt upon new life. Grant me also the grace to be in Your Hands a not too unworthy instrument of Your creative power. Let me be “up-todate” whenever it is a question of enrolling a new name in the Book of Life.

PATERNAL SOLICITUDE

IN ORDER to fulfill his task conscientiously, a father needs singular qualities.

First among these qualities is an unfailing courage. In homes where life is easy-and in what family today is life easy -he can rest on the fortune amassed by his ancestors. But that melts so soon. In homes where the family lives truly on the daily bread,how much he must exert himself to earn that bread for the day. There’s more than one meal that has to be provided for a single day. And the clothing? And the shoes? And the bills-from the doctor, the pharmacist, the grocer? Days follow upon each other, weeks overlap and months roll by; the home is augmented by one more. How shall he cope with this world of his?

With courage, the father needs a quiet confidence in God. Surely, if they understand their duty well, true fathers know how to space births somewhat without failing in the least against the laws of marriage; and this for some requires heroic courage. But even then when one does not tempt Divine Providence but lives in a prudent and continent moderation, it is still necessary in order to keep above the surface of life to cast anchor in the deep and wait for the desired help from God-imperturbably serene through it all.

And who will measure the untiring patience that he will need to bear those almost necessary difficulties of character in a most loving and attentive wife; to endure the crying and weeping of the babies at night; to bear with the noisy games of the growing children when he wants to work in quiet; to try to make the income at least balance expenses; to build up a declining business; to find new openings for his products; to develop a better and wider clientele. Patience alone will see him through!

How he will need authority with the children to reinforce the mother’s control who, either because she is too busy or too easy going, lets them take advantage of her now and then!

He will not have this authority without insight which will help him distinguish the pre-dominant character traits of each child and determine the best means to provide for the training of all so that their virtues are developed and their faults are checked; to read their souls, their inmost thoughts, the progress of their dreams for the future . . .

All in all, what skill, what firmness, what adaptability, what sanctity he will need! And here is just a poor father consecrated such by circumstances and who, just a young fellow himself, has never weighed his future responsibilities-or not very seriously weighed them!

Oh, how deeply I feel, Holy Virgin Mary, that you must help me. Our Lady of great courage, give me strength! Virgin most patient, give me patience! Seat of Wisdom, give me insight into characters! Mother and Queen of Jesus, give me a gentle, but firm authority!

Holy Mary, give me holiness more than all else! I have not attained the degree God wants of me for my mission in life; I am well aware of that. Draw me, O Immaculate Virgin, draw me to the heights; you are so near to God; you dwell in the radiance of His light and His omnipotence; lead me on, higher!

THE FAMILY

THE FAMILY, A WORKSHOP OF LIFE FOR EARTH, A WORKSHOP FOR ETERNITY!

1. A Workshop of Life: What power to have control over the creation of life! God, who could have created human beings all by Himself wished to give His creatures the gift of a power which belonged only to Him. Consequently, souls will not come into the light unless parents consent to it. They will not create souls, to be sure, but by generating bodies they furnish God the means of increasing the number of souls.

Have I meditated often enough upon this magnificent power which has been conferred on me? A power which I share equally with her who is the companion of my existence? Have I meditated on the glory of fatherhood? The glory of motherhood? Have I considered what a grave sin it is to place the act which generates life and then to prevent through perverted will the coming of life to a potential human being? Or to snuff out the life which is developing in the womb of the mother?

The author of the novel “Jeanne,” though not a Christian, clearly pleads the cause of Christian morals in t he play he produced from his novel. The following scene gives in brief the theme of the whole play:

MADELEINE-Jeanne is always present . . . Do you know the dream I often have? I see a little hand which is trying to open a door. We are very comfortable you and I and we both push against the door with all our strength so that Jeanne cannot come in to take away a little of our ease, our luxury, our warmth . . . Then the little hand falls down and we begin to count gold pieces so as not to hear anything . . . A little whimper . . .

ANDRE-That’s a nightmare! . . .

MADELEINE-For you yes. Remorse is a policeman . . .

ANDRE-Don’t you love me anymore, Madeleine?

MADELEINE-Since we were accomplices . . . I loved you to folly, but this love was snatched away with my child. When I came back from that abortionist, you noticed no change in my attitude. But Andre it was another woman you clasped in your arms . . . a sort of dead . . .

ANDRE-THEN, ALWAYS, FOREVER, THAT WILL BE BETWEEN US?

MADELEINE-NOT BETWEEN US, WITH US!

Have I ever thought of the tragic intimate dramas that conjugal cheating gives rise to in the lives of parents? Have I thought of the harm done to society in times of peace? To the country I love, weakening its defenses, threatening its safety in times of war? To the Church who would have had some saints among those children who were denied birth, in any case, some priests and religious . . . Have I thought of all that?

2. A Workshop for Eternity: The family not only contributes an increase to earthly existence but it also increases more divine life on earth, and that in two ways-from the moment of its establishment and later: The day the man and woman receive the sacrament of Matrimony, they produce, if we may so dare to speak, more divine life; each of the two become richer in the life of the Trinity within themselves; the Eternal is intermingled to a greater degree in the existence of both. Then come the children. Each will possess within itself the germ of eternity, something of the life which will never end.Death will come to end life here below, but this life is destined to bloom again: “I believe in the resurrection of the body and life everlasting” we recite in the Creed.

To be sure, the children have free will, they can fail to attain their destiny. The devil and evil concupiscence must always be conquered. But if their origin is Christian, if the parents have done all they possibly could to do their duty and rear their offspring as they ought, it would be failing in Hope to think of the family’s being eternally cut off from some of its members.

I shall pray fervently that we may all be reunited in heaven, that we eternally sing the Sanctus as a chorus with not one of us missing.

HEREDITY

THE profession of fatherhood and motherhood has its responsibilities even before the birth of the children. Someone has said, “Every man is an heir; every man is an ancestor.” Just as we receive through our ancestral line many of our traits, so too we found a line of descendants, and we transmit to those descendants something of what we are ourselves.

If we were free to transmit only the good, how truly it would be worth transmitting! But it does not work that way. It is impossible to foresee what part of us will pass on to our successors. Whoever performs the work of imparting life runs the risk of imparting to the one born of him some of his worst with the best. Wherever there is propagation by generation the mystery of heredity has its place, a frightening place. It is not in vain that God gives this warning in the twentieth Book of Exodus: “I am the Lord thy God, mighty, jealous, visiting the iniquity of the fathers upon the children unto the third and fourth generations of them that hate Me; And showing mercy unto thousands to them that love Me and keep my Commandments.” There is a similar idea expressed in the prophecy of Ezechiel.

A certain father took part as a young man in a sinful escapade. He corrupted his blood; a germ entered into him. Should he be astonished then that at the moment in which he transmits life, that very life will be contaminated? He took precautions; he was cured. That is possible. It is not always certain. There are often unpleasant surprises. Even when the malady does not recur in the first generation, it is possible that it may reappear in the second or third or even later.

It is the same in the case of lesser evils which nevertheless leave their corrupting effects-habits of laziness, intemperance in the use of liquor, a wasting of one’s forces. It all tells.

The mother also formerly lived too fast. Her life was characterized by an excessive effort to follow the capricious changes in styles, too intense a participation in strenuous sports, an abuse of strong liquors or over-indulgence in smoking, too much loss of sleep because of empty and sophisticated night-life or hours of reading thrillers or indiscriminate running to movies. Here she is now leaning over her baby’s cradle. The little thing is weak and puny looking as if it were trouble just to breathe. The doctor is called. There are certainly many reasons for sicknesses and weakness in babies other than the imprudences of the mother and father. But is it not true that in many cases if the doctor were sincere he would have to say: “Madam, there are maladies here which wisdom could prevent but which science cannot circumvent.” To have healthy and vigorous children, parents must deserve it.

But far be from us any unjust generalizations! It often happens that in the most deserving families where parents have always done their duty, God may send weak and sickly children either for the sanctification of the parents or for reasons known to Himself alone.

But it still remains true that in many a household an unbelievable thoughtlessness serves as the prelude for so serious an act as the procreative act. How many fathers and mothers ought to meditate on the words spoken by Our Lord with a different implication to the women of Jerusalem as He trudged along to Calvary, “Weep over Yourselves and your children.”

What a tragic mystery is human heredity! Physical impurities, and in part, tendencies which foster moral weaknesses can be transmitted to one’s descendants. Some children will issue forth victorious over terrible struggles only painfully because there is weighing upon them the crushing weight of faults or frightful frivolities to which others before them have consented!

PARENTAL RESPONSIBILITY

IT IS worth considering more than once the responsibility that can rest with the parents when some children do not achieve their full possibility or even turn out badly.

Let us of course give due blame to the evil concupiscence which can provoke a painful transformation in children even when the parents have done everything possible.

It remains true just the same that in a good number of cases, the father and the mother or one or the other must plead guilty.

A boy is sent to college. He gets along fine until the sophomore year. From then on he bungles everything, abandons right conduct, falls in with dangerous companions, carries on high to such an extent that he has to be expelled. And when a professor expresses astonishment, the dean will give this explanation: “It’s his background; unfavorable heredity; his brothers were just the same. The mother is a saint, but the father is one of those unfortunate individuals who is ruled by his senses; he has caused much suffering to his wife. It is just the traces of the father showing up in the children.”

The explanation can be taken for what it is worth. The law of heredity is not a mathematical law. There is no doubt, however, that it is operative, more operative than one thinks.

When heredity is not to blame, it can often be a matter of bad training. How good parents are, how very good, too good, too weak! It is their own formation which is faulty; it should be done over.

A mother brought her young son to the doctor for an examination. The doctor prescribed a remedy. “The medicine was not pleasant to take but it was very potent,” he said. Well and good; they had the prescription filled.

Some time later they returned to the doctor.

“Well, now, how’s our patient?”

“Not any better, doctor.”

“How’s that? Didn’t the medicine take effect?”

“No, doctor, it was too hard to take; he wouldn’t touch it!”

How much botchwork of that kind goes on! Parents satisfy the child’s every whim. They recoil before the first tears, before the mere signs of an outburst, before less than that-a frown, a pout, or a dejected look. They are lost!

Reversing the scriptural phrase, “Cain, where is thy brother Abel?” an author speaking of social problems, which can well be duplicated in the family and in education asked, “Abel, what have you done with Cain?” In other words: “You good people, are you not responsible through your faults or your incapacities that some good individuals have become bad?”

I have charge of a soul; I may have a plural charge-several souls. What has been my conduct until now? Do I not have to reproach myself with many faults or at least many weaknesses? And I am surprised at the results obtained! Are they not the logical outcome of my bungling?

Let me examine myself; consider the whole problem seriously; if it is necessary, let me reform.

THE FAMILY SPIRIT

BEFORE the war, family spirit was on the decline and on the verge of being lost. There were exterior and interior reasons.

Exterior reasons: Means of travel had become easier and encouraged people to go out as much as possible. At times, the whole household would take the train or auto for an excursion but more often than not one or other member of the family would go off for himself with the car.

Young girls began to leave home more than formerly for purposes of study, Red Cross causes, Social Service training or simply to take a position. Many who had no such need at all left home for no other reason than not to have to remain at home. Anything rather than stay home!

Various activities and organizations were always sufficient excuse or pretext for absence. Household activities held no appeal for these young women and often repelled them. The remembrance of confidences from their mother in some of their intimate sessions frightened some of them.

The world with its perpetual and superficial and useless activity drew many young men and even more young women into its crazy dance and encouraged the desertion of the home.

Interior Reasons: Some homes make no attempt to be attractive; life in them seems too austere to the children; the mother is too busy, the father is always grouchy, upset by the least noise, easily irritated and perhaps, even without knowing it, frigid and abrupt in his manner of speaking . . . Sometimes there is an unfortunate lack of harmony between the parents. The atmosphere is always charged with a threatening storm. There is no relaxing, no peace, no trust . . . Each one wants his liberty, to go his own way. The children caught between two fires do not know to which saint they should dedicate themselves. Therefore they too go away, or if they can’t they close up within themselves . . . Each one in the house stands on his dignity.

It is quite true that children have become more difficult to train. They always have been difficult but they are more of a problem today than in the past. A tendency developed to give them greater leeway which created a greater distance than was wise between fathers and sons and especially between mothers and daughters; it was an imaginary difficulty rather than a real one in many cases but only too frequently it gave rise to a cruel estrangement.

No one can prevent the difference of twenty years more or less between father and son or mother and daughter; that it should be a difference is to be expected; but that it should be a barrier, no! And while there are parents who cannot remember that they were once twenty years old, most of them can.

“I dream of a daughter who will be like me but also very different,” wrote a mother; “because I should not like to produce only a duplicate but neither should I like to be only a rough draft of a more perfect pattern.”

Then she continues to explain that her daughter will be able to come to her in all confidence to tell her about her first infatuation; she will understand her and will even tell her how she herself at about the age of eighteen fell madly in love with a violinist of exceptional talent and that her own mother so completely entered into sympathy with her that she helped her daughter compose the burning letter of admiration in which her newly-born ardor was poured out . . . Together mother and daughter waited for the fervent response . . . which had never come!

Poor children, who feel that their parents do not understand them! But if they do understand! It is their duty not to approve of everything, but they understand! Then they are ready to help, not always by writing a love-letter, but to encourage, to warn, to support the children in their undertakings, to sustain their enthusiasm, to lead them to their goal.

“THE WHOLE SEA”

PEOPLE sometimes say: “What is the use of trying to rear children as good Christians; they will be lost sight of once they enter upon life in the midst of the great masses. Will any one so much as notice their presence? Will they be able to leave their mark? Will they not run the risk of being crushed by the amorphous mass and quickly covered over by some allembracing platitudes”” Or again, “What is the use of trying to establish a home that is a Christian community, a veritable monastery of Christian virtues-and by that we don’t mean an atmosphere like a morgue but an exemplary group governed by Christian devotion and love-when all about us there are only mediocre families? They are not bad but worldly, with no depth to their Christianity. We would be drowned by all the rest!”

Pascal gave the answer to these questions when he said, “The whole sea rises for one stone that is thrown into it.” Though it appear but an insignificant pebble in value, it at least assures one’s contribution to a common work. Has it not always been the minority groups who transformed the world?

You say, “What is the use of troubling ourselves and working to form Christians and real men when all a bout us the mass of humanity is becoming more and more dechristianized and less virile? Lacordaire suggests an answer similar to Pascal’s, “Simple drops of water that we are, we wonder what need the ocean has of us; the ocean could tell us that it is madeup of nothing else but little drops of water.”

That is true of individuals; it is true of families.

If we could do nothing to effect numbers we can at least effect quality-the policy of the leaven. What matters the thickness and weight of the dough, if the leaven which works in it possesses irresistible force?

Let us throw dynamic Christian personalities into society; where can they be better prepared than in Christian families and institutions? We ought to, that’s sure. In the midst of indifferent families, let us settle some distinctly Christian families who do not compromise when duty is involved, who radiate joy, manifest the beauty of virtuous living and bear witness to Christ by apostolic zeal. And then count on God to assure the result.

The result is certain. We must have faith in Him and believe in the power of radiating centers.

“Unless there are in our cities and towns, homes where Christian life flourishes, every hope for Christian civilization is doomed,” wrote a university man of note shortly before the war.

To Christianize a town, a village, a neighborhood, in short any milieu involves more than multiplying activities which do not even get into the blood-stream of real living; it means an invention of new ways of life, as for example group formation of families who give a public example of Christian virtues by living in loving and fraternal communities, breaking with the forms of mediocre living and substituting for it in their relations with others a true form of friendship rooted in the Gospel spirit.

What was true before the war is even truer now. There is still a desperate need for a renovation of the Christian world, and of the whole world for that matter; this renovation will be achieved only through Christian families, by thorough-going Christians within these solid Christian homes, and fervent community groups of Christian families.

HOME LIFE

SOMEONE has suggested the following “slogans” for Happy Home Life:

1. Always appear before your family in a good humor. Nothing is so depressing for the rest of the family as a father or mother out of sorts. See that the family never has to suffer because of your attack of nerves or your irritability.

2. Never weary in cheering your family with your smile: It is not enough to avoid depressing the family; that is purely negative. You must brighten them up, let their spirits expand. Be especially vigilant when the little ones are around. You must give them the alms of a smile, hard though it be at times. What a pity when children have to say, “I don’t like it at our house.”

3. Tell what you may tell openly: If something must not be told, then don’t tell it. If you may share it then do so. We ought to let others profit by our experience, above all, the family.

4. Amiably show the greatest interest in the least things: The problems of family life are generally not affairs of state. However, everything that concerns the persons we love most in the world should be worthy of interest: the baby’s first tooth, the honor ribbon won at school, the entrance of one of the little ones into the Holy Childhood Association.

5. Banish exaggerated asceticism from your life heroically: If your home is Christian and each member of the family is learning to carry his cross, then it is essential to avoid making others suffer by a too ostentatious or inopportune austerity. Besides there is abundant opportunity for self-renunciation in devoting oneself to procuring joy for others. Marie Antoinette de Geuser used to sacrifice her great longing for recollection and her taste for a simple life by accompanying her brothers to evening affairs for which she wore dresses that she said “made her look vain.”

6. Be very attentive to treat all alike. Nothing is so disrupting to home life as the evidence of favoritism for one or the other child. The same measure for all!

7. Never think of yourself but always of them in a joyous spirit:

Henry the Fourth used to crawl around on all fours, with his children on his back, to enliven the family gettogether. Louis Racine, the son of the famous Racine, relates of his father, “My father was never so happy as when he was free to leave the royal court and spend a few days with us. Even in the presence of strangers, he dared to be a father; he belonged to all our games. I remember our procession in the garden in which my sisters were the clergy, I was the pastor and the author of “Athalie” came along carrying the cross, singing with us.”

8. Never begin an argument, always speak prudently. Discussion should not be banned unless it develops into bickering or argument. A free habit of exchanging ideas on a broadening subject cannot but be profitable; the children should even be encouraged and led into it to develop in them a wise and discriminating mind and a habit of suspended judgment. Unsavory and disturbing subjects as well as those beyond their depth ought naturally be avoided.

9. Act patiently always, answering graciously always: That it takes the “patience of an angel” to rule vigilantly over the little world of the family is beyond question. I must apply myself to it affably.

10. By good-will you will gain hearts and souls without exception:

Love much-that is the key to it all.

These slogans for a Happy Home Life are not marvels of prose but they do express a precious rule of wise family discipline.

THE FAMILY TABLE

MEALTIME should serve not only to nourish the body but also to comfort the soul.

Someone wittily said: “Repast, repose.” Whoever it was made a good point.

While the children are still little the mother and father will probably breakfast alone. When they are older, if the father cannot be present because of his work, the mother at least should be present to set the example for table etiquette, to make sure that the children eat enough, properly, without greediness, and without rejecting what is not to their liking. This is the hour for the household to shake off sleepiness which still stupefies them, and to season the atmosphere with joy and genial good spirit.

At the main meals all except the babies will be present. The parents should exercise the greatest care not to come to table laden with their worries, a prey to the preoccupations of their duties or their professional activities. The only possible exception to this rule would probably be during a time of family bereavement or exceptional sorrow. But even then a just mean should be observed so that the young ones need not be unduly depressed. They ought to keep all their verve and to a certain point, their power of fancy.

Except when it is essential that the whole family share the concerns of all in common, the father and mother should not come to table looking downhearted and pass the mealtime discussing their hard lot in life. Children are quick to sense the worry of their parents, they feel that things are not going well, if there is tension or estrangement, if evil has hit the home. When they perceive things of this sort, their little hearts contract and a certain unease strangles them.

And why make someone who is not equal to it bear the burden and heat of the day?

After the first few moments in which the father and mother exchange a few words about decisions they must make concerning affairs which need not be kept from the children, they ought to direct the conversation here and there to the younger and the older; let them tell how they spent the morning or afternoon; show an interest in the efforts of all, in the work they did, the virtues they practised or the disappointments they met. Even if the father and mother have heavy cares, they should force themselves to escape from them long enough to be attentive listeners to the thousand details that all wish to recount. Each one must know that he can speak freely, provided that it is always politely, discreetly and charitably. Should there be some little chatterboxes, they must be taught to moderate their intemperance which would prevent others from having their say. If one of the children seems to be in bad humor, he should be stimulated by a little kindly teasing, a kind word or an opportune question.

When the children pull out all the stops, call for pianissimo; when they observe too long a pause speed up the tempo. Should one or the other strike a false note get him back in the key again.

The parents should not be satisfied with listening to the little stories of their children. They too should contribute to the broadening of their knowledge by giving them worthwhile information, relating an amusing or instructive story or starting a discussion on an interesting subject.

Rene Bazin, the novelist, speaks of those families in the North of France who still keep to the custom of beginning the meal with a short reading from the life of some saint or famous hero. Wasn’t it Father Lourdel who entered the White Fathers after hearing the story of the African martyrs? All that relaxes, elevates, and lends variety. It might even be a reading from the letter of a relative or a selection from a newspaper. The main idea should be to entertain and as far as possible expand hearts.

A CHRISTIAN SETTING

ONE of the most touching descriptions is found in the account by Louis Veuillot of his visit to the home of one of his old friends whom he had not seen since the day of his marriage fifteen years before.

The visitor was admitted by the old servant who did not recognize him; he had to give his name. “Come,” she said, “The Master is upstairs with Madam in their own room.”

They went up. It was still the blue room whose picturesque decoration his old friend had admired so much in days past.

He recognized his friend despite the work of the years upon his features; his eyes were still keen, but it was evident that he had been weeping. The wife he remembered only vaguely.

“In my memory she was the fairy of youth dressed in flowing robes, crowned with flowers, with a smile on her lips, approaching reality over the green roads of Spring. A smile that nothing chased away, a mind that had never known fear, ears which had heard nothing but gentle words, hands which carried only wreaths of flowers, she personified the morning, the gloom, the promise of life. So she appeared to me on her Wedding Day-a Christian woman yet a child, a harmony of beauty, faith, love, candor. She was earnest because she believed; happy because she loved; radiant because she was pure.

“Now after fifteen years she is a wife who has aged from the cares of her home; she is a daughter in mourning for her mother, a mother in mourning for her children.

“On her pallid face the torrent of her tears have furrowed more deeply the traces of the years; in her heart, submission to the Cross; she stifles the sob of Rachel. I remembered that we used to call her Stella Matutina, Morning star; now, I thought, we would have to call her Mater dolorosa, Mother of sorrows.”

Then his eyes glanced at the walls of the room. They were not adorned as before. Formerly, there had been no crucifix. Now there was one. It occupied the place once held by a picture of Diana, the Goddess of the Chase. A little distance away, there was a picture of Mary at the Foot of the Cross. “We put it there to replace some poetic pictures at the timeour first child died,” the husband explained.

He continued, “This design above the dressing table where we used to have the painting of “The Great Festival of Watteau” is a copy of my father’s tombstone in the village cemetery. It is over in that direction that I began to build and the cypress trees around the house are the first trees I planted. Here at the side is the picture of my wife’s mother; she died in this room which we alone can use from now on. These other pictures are what remains to us now of all the dear souls who reared us, worked and suffered for us and provided so tenderly for our happiness. And here is a picture of our dear little Therese, our little saint, the second child God took from us. She left us last year when she was only six years old. She cried out before she died, “God, God, where is God? I want to go to God!” She took with her the last happy days of her mother.”

All that does not depress souls. Earth after all is not heaven. It is only the vestibule. That in itself is beautiful. And, as the author explains at the end of his description, “separations only increase our confidence, love and peace.”

JUDICIOUS ECONOMY

CHRISTIANITY demands detachment. Of all, interior detachment- to use things as if we did not use them. Of some, complete exterior detachment-the vow of poverty for religious which differs in degree of severity according to the Rules of the Order entered, from the actual and rigid deprivation of the disciples of Saint Francis of Assisi to the simple dependence relative to the possession of things or administration of money required in Congregations which are less austere.

But what should be the degree of effective poverty required or at least desired in people of the world?

We hear people speak of the “duty of improvidence” or the “virtue of insecurity.” What are we to think of these expressions and the ideal they express?

It is certain that love of gain is dangerous and that privation when accepted in the right spirit detaches.

It is equally certain that normal gain, that is to say not beyond bounds and obtained through honest means, is legitimate. Furthermore, economy, when it is not grounded in avarice or inordinate attachment to money but in the virtue of prudence, is not to be condemned.

With the good sense for which he is famous, Saint Francis de Sales says very aptly in Part One, Chapter Three of his “Introduction to a Devout Life”: “If husbands would not desire to amass any more than Capuchin monks, would not their piety be ridiculous, ill-regulated, and unbearable?”

Pope Pius XI, as well as Leo XIII, far from condemning economy expressed the wish that all should be in a position to benefit from it. Here is what is expressly stated in the Encyclical, “Quadragesimo Anno,” a replica one ought say of the famous Encyclical on “The Condition of the Working Classes” written forty years earlier:

“It is necessary to do everything possible that the share of wealth which accumulates (in certain hands) may be reduced to a more equitable measure and that a sufficient abundance of it is divided among the workers . . . so that they may increase through economy a patrimony capable of permitting them to meet the burdens of their family.”

There are in these lines a condemnation of excess and the justification of the practice of economy.

Excess constitutes the hoarding of wealth, the accumulation of reserves for one’s own personal use and with no thought at all for the common good-”to put in reserve and accumulate for one or several persons, under the form of gold, moneys, bank notes or even certain company titles, an excessive power of purchase instead of spreading it for the common good of the whole of humanity,” is the way Pius XI expresses it.

The practice of economy is clearly indicated: “Under the direction of the Eternal Law and the universal government of Divine Providence, notes Leo XIII, man is his law and his providence.” We must not ask God to reward our folly, our folly of spending wildly, putting nothing aside with the presumptuous assurance oneself, “God will help me if I fall into want.”

There must be no passivity in our abandonment. We have to cooperate with God. Do one’s best and then count on Providence should be our motto.

Far from us be any such thing as pagan foresight which makes us practically ignore the role of Divine Providence and count only on the money we have piled up; which makes us lose sight of the real purpose behind the practice of economy which is decidedly not to guarantee protection from want to a few but to help along toward the well being of all. Must we remind ourselves that superabundant capital may not be spent according to the whims of the owner. The surplus wealth which people possess, as our Lord has clearly pointed out, must be considered as a “trust-fund to be administered for the good of others, a stewardship, a guardianship which is to be exercised for the good of the community and in the interests of the community.”

THE PROVIDENTIAL ROLE OF INSECURITY

GOD is not the enemy of security. He wants man to earn the daily bread for his old age by his labor. He wants society to guard against depressions and to guarantee to all a life protected by law. He requires certain privileged individuals to come to the aid of their brothers in need, especially, as it frequently happens, when society is powerless to help.

Does that imply then that God cannot permit insecurity for someone’s good? Certainly not.

It is so easy to abuse security:

Perhaps through selfishness by skimping one’s life, refusing the entrance of love into one’s life or setting up barriers to the possible gift of children from Divine Providence.

Perhaps by purely pagan prudence, the attitude of the wicked rich in the Gospel, I will pull down my barns, and build larger ones.

Perhaps by pride. What is Divine Providence anyway? I have money and the means of making it bring in more. God doesn’t count.

In addition to its already precious role of crushing false hopes of security conceived by pagan-mindedness, insecurity has power proper to itself.

It forces us to think of God. Here I am, I have done all that I could, worked my best, saved without being niggardly but with legitimate prudence and now I am struck by a catastrophe-the death of the head of the family, or an untimely accident, war . . . I have nothing left, or if it is not so bad as that, Trial has at least made deep inroads on the possessions I had.

WHAT SHOULD I DO? GET DISCOURAGED? NEVER!

I will call up all my energy; try to salvage from the present situation whatever can help my best efforts and count on Divine Providence without in the least neglecting foresight. God helps those who help themselves.

I must believe that Our Lord surrounds those who find themselves in need through no fault of their own with a special predilection. “Do not forget,” wrote a navy lieutenant to his wife at the outbreak of the war of 1914, “that uncertainty permits us to count more on God . . . riches hide some of God’s delicate attentions from us . . . We have the best of the game with God.”

What a beautiful expression of faith! Since human aid can so easily fail, God owes it to Himself to come to the aid of those who put their trust in Him. “We have the best of the game with God!”

Consequently, abandonment to God is in keeping with wise foresight.

A person does his best to avoid falling into a state of need. If God requires that all or much of his efforts come to naught, he ought not despair; let him submit valiantly to the yoke again; if he has a lively faith, he will thank God for having permitted “the caresses of poverty.” The individual of himself could never have achieved the actual poverty of religious life; he can now at least accept the privations permitted by Providence and strive to live more literally the Gospel precept: “Make for yourself purses that do not grow old, a treasure unfailing in heaven, where neither thief draws near nor moth destroys.” Luke XII, 33.

THE SNUFF BOX

FATHER VAUGHAN, known from the poorest to the most distinguished sections of London, as a famous preacher, the brother of several prelates one of whom was the Cardinal Archbishop of Westminster, learned much from his father who was a colonel in the British Army.

One day, at table, the little fellow took a very greedy portion of jam. His father reproved him for it and clinched his correction with the comment, “Whoever wants to become a man-a gentleman-knows how to conquer himself.”

The child was hurt and becoming somewhat impudent retorted, “Oh, after all, Papa, you have your snuff box!”

Colonel Vaughan immediately put his hand into his pocket, drew out the snuff box and before the whole group threw it into the fire.

The history of the Vaughan family provides many such incidents which make profitable reading.

That’s what we call fair play. If one wants to get another to do something, he must first of all do it himself. There should be justice. Not that children have a right to judge their parents, but parents should be careful not to give their children occasion to judge them badly.

We are sometimes amazed when young people who were very pious at one time and who have received a Christian education from start to finish, later on abandon the practice of their Faith. We must go back to the source. The mother was a practicing Catholic, the father suited himself about attendance at Mass; he had very quickly given up family prayer. The children rarely saw him perform an act of worship. No other explanation is needed to clarify everything.

The same holds true for the spirit of sacrifice, for prayer, and for refined manners.

Here is a child at table who has a mania for crumbling his bread into little pieces or to scatter crumbs all about his plate. The mother corrects him, for it.-”Oh but Papa does it too!”

So it goes with everything. People say they are terrible children. Why of course, all children are terrible. They record with unerring fidelity the examples they witness. And since examples strike incomparably harder than words, parents preach in vain, if they themselves do not practice; instead of forming, they deform. who knows whether the little irregularities of today will not culminate in the regrettable crimes of tomorrow.

Great consideration should be given to the fact that “the child is father to the man.” Parents are therefore bound to watch themselves, their habits, their behavior, their speech.

Parents will be so free at table; they criticize the Pope, the bishops, the pastor, such and such persons among their relatives and acquaintances; their judgments are only too frequently severe or at least imprudent. Need they be astonished if later their children “who come from such Christian families,” are free in passing criticisms about their highest superiors and other persons most deserving of respect. Whose fault is it?

“But they’re so little; they don’t understand what we’re talking about!” How do you know? Although they do not understand everything or at least not right away, some impression will stay with them, and the habit of judging indiscriminately will be well planted to sprout later. What great damage is done! What out-and-out imprudence!

I will pay great attention to my children. They can be my best educators. I should give them the least possible occasion to teach me a lesson.

ESTRANGED PARENTS

THERE can be such separation of soul between parents that they finally live their own lives; they no longer live together as husband and wife; they are father and mother, but not exactly husband and wife-a situation unmeasurably sad.

Sadder still is the home in which the father and mother still maintain husband and wife relations but do not understand each other at all; they are perpetually arguing or sulking or exchanging sharp words; they no longer love each other and consequently find that their life together offers nothing but constant occasions to make each other suffer.

If these unfortunate individuals have children, especially younger children, have they never wondered what possible questions might be tormenting their little heads; what bewildered anguish strangles their little souls which vainly seek to bestow their frail yet ardent love somewhere in this remote region made bleak and barren by battles.

How can they decide whose part to take? They can’t. “Whom do you prefer, your mamma or your papa?” someone asked a little boy. He hesitated a moment, then said, “I prefer them both.” And even if the child’s heart leans more toward the one than the other, how could it decide who is more in the right or more in the wrong?

Those wretched parents who are so out of harmony with each other ought to meditate often on the touching prayer of the little child who got the idea of walking his estranged parents down to the beach one fine evening; as he walked along the way with his father and mother on either side of him, silent and glum, mulling over their own sad thoughts, he said softly-but still loud enough for his parents to hear-this little prayer of his own making:

“O my dear little God. I feel so bad because Papa is angry at Mamma! Oh, if You knew how bad I feel! Please make it so he won’t be angry anymore, so I won’t be afraid anymore and so these terrible things, which you know about, may go far away from me because I am just a little child. Make it that I can love Papa and Mamma again with all my heart, my whole heart all full, because You see, my little God when somebody is angry I feel too bad and I am too afraid and, then, You knowI am just a little child! Amen.”

The Church is opposed to divorce, because it is an attack on the reality of love-and it is just that, for what is a love that is not indissoluble or the intimacies of marriage if they can be enjoyed with someone else during the lifetime of one’s husband or wife; because divorce is the ruination of the family as Paul Bourget has the Jesuit Father Evrard explain in his novel “A Divorce”: A boat happened to be at a port where one of the passengers wished to go ashore; there was an epidemic on board ship; no one was allowed to leave the boat. The particular individual was inconvenienced by it but the good of the society overruled. So too, it is much better that the home be saddened than that the family be sacrificed. The Church is also opposed to divorce because it brings nothing but unhappiness to the child.

The same is true when the divorce is not a formal breaking up of the family; it is enough for the parents to be at odds, to cause the child to suffer, and generally, quite intensely.

Charity to their children obliges the parents to try everything to reestablish their union which is jeopardized.

God bless the homes in which the arms of little children guard forever the close union between the father and the mother.

THE WOMANLY IDEAL

PERHAPS no one has more beautifully extolled the womanly ideal than Charles Peguy.

What he admired first and foremost in woman was her special faculty for putting soul into the daily humdrum of the eternal repetitions of everyday life in the home. He has Our Lord say:

My love goes out to you, O most precious one To you, most submissive at the feet of destiny, Most subject to the masters of the feast, Most eager and most solicitous.

I love you so much, O most earnest one, You who are most responsive to claims of work Most unknown and most glorious Most attentive to the care of the fold.

The smallest action, the most ordinary, the most routine, though submerged in the greatest monotony of recurring days and engulfed by the unfolding centuries, can be of immense value if performed with a great love:

. . . . You spend yourself utterly, O only needy one, In washing dishes and keeping house O Woman, you who set in order both labors and days.

But then, woman, is not only a worker, a housekeeper, she is a mother, a mother who is solicitous for her little ones, a mother who never tires of contemplating the infinite hidden away behind a curved forehead or stubborn eyes. Man does not sense it. He is not sufficiently delicate or spiritual for that. Woman alone has a glance sufficiently keen and supernatural to discover not only the corporal needs of a fragile and tiny body but also the deep and innocent soul washed by the waters of baptism and rich with countless graces which must be put to good use in the future.

Nothing is so beautiful as a child falling asleep while saying his prayers, says God (according to Peguy)

I tell you nothing in the world is so beautiful . . .

Yes, I tell you, I don’t know anything so beautiful in all the world

As a little child falling asleep saying his prayers

Under the wings of its Guardian Angel

A little child, who laughs at the angels while beginning to fall asleep

AND WHO GETS HIS PRAYERS ALL MIXED UP BECAUSE HE NO LONGER HAS HIS MIND ON THEM

WHO MIXES UP THE WORDS OF THE OUR FATHER WITH THE WORDS OF THE HAIL MARY

While a veil is already falling upon his eyelids The veil of night upon his sight and upon his voice.

Truly, it is woman’s honor and her duty, as a consequence of her vocation, to be very near to souls and to the supernatural world. Then too woman is more loving than man. She has a sense of pity and compassion. She always has something in common with the sympathetic traits manifested by Joan of Arc even as a little girl. One day she saw two little starving and sad-hearted children walking along a roadway. “It grieved me so much, I gave them all my bread, my noonday lunch and my four o‘clock snack. Their joy hurt me: I thought of all the other starving people who had nothing to eat, so many starving people, countless hungry people. I felt that I was going to break out weeping. I gave them my bread. A beautiful gesture! But they will be hungry again tonight; they will be hungry again tomorrow . . . There, they have gone into the future, into distress, into the anxiety for the future . . . O, my God, who will give them their daily bread?”

Joan’s great compassion for souls tore even more at her heart than her anguish over the physical hunger of bodies. “If only we could see the beginning of Your reign established, o my Lord!” she prayed.

Honor to Woman for the greatness of her heart!

HER HUSBAND’S HELPER

PASTEUR”S wife was a precious aid to the renowned scientist who was her husband.

The help she gave him was not always scientific, intellectual, technical. In the organization of most homes, wives will not have to give their husbands only that type of help. Moral support is more essential.

It was a little home in which unity and understanding flourished but where money was scarce. The husband needed an auto for his work; he had an old jalopy and it had taken him three long months to pay for it. One day shortly after his last payment, the rear axle broke while he was turning a corner. The poor fellow returned home utterly discouraged. His wife who was courageous, confident, and who was furthermore expecting a baby, said not a word of reproach or discouragement. On the contrary she tried to console him:

“Look, we are happy; God loves us. We ought to pay Him a little ransom for all the joys He has given us. Come, let us pray and not lose hope. He can’t abandon us.” Their hearts raised together to God, they found themselves more closely united than ever in their human love. Together they had drawn from the same Spring of Hope, the same Font of Goodness. They were united in perfect Unity.

It is clear that a wife ought to expect to find in her husband a strong man, someone who does not go to pieces at the first set-back; who knows how to struggle with the tempests and bring their bark safely into port. She certainly does not expect him to exhibit his virility by vain attitudes or a showoff’s behavior; she does not expect him to swagger or substitute boasting or protestations for ability to act, for solidity of character, and for real bravery. She naturally much prefers one who is truly a master, a master in his profession or in his work whatever it is, a master in the conduct of the home, able to make decisions and to assume responsibility. She wants no irresolute or timid chap who takes two steps back for every step forward or whose will is changeable, capricious, petty; nor does she want a man who gets submerged by details and forgets the whole, but a man endowed with an eye for detail coupled with a power for organization. She does not want a man whom prejudices blind and who is not sure of himself; no, she wants a man who can be resolute without being tyrannical, determined without being narrow and stubborn when a need arises for changing one’s tactics-a man of peace, of thought, and of perseverance . . .

What a list of virtues! Can they ever be found in one single soul? Let us suppose a man has the whole array of these virtues or even the principal ones among them, will he not even then need moral support at some time or other?

There are moments of discouragement, dark hours either because events bring sorrow and anguish or because nature grows weak or health fails or vigor of character temporarily subsides.

How helpful it is in these situations which are not at all impossible to be able to find reinforcement in the companion of his life! They started out as two but life together has made them one; each of them must support the other in view of their common work.

To each the task is a true principle but when danger threatens, it is not too much to have to face the same threat together. . . .

What security for the wife to know that she can find in her husband the help she dreamed of! For the husband when he can be certain of being understood by his wife in periods of material or spiritual difficulty and not only understood but supported, cheered, and comforted!

Thank You, O my God, for giving me in my life-companion the intelligent, disinterested, attentive aide You knew I would need, You said, “It is not good for man to be alone.” You gave me another self. Help me to find in this other half of me, my other self, the strength to be strong.

GOOD SENSE

A SISTER missionary describes the following family episode which took place in Congo:

Strong stalwart Bateke who had recently married came looking for me one morning with a very dejected appearance, or perhaps, disgusted would be more correct.

“Well now, my friend, what’s the matter? Aren’t things going well?

Is your wife sick?”

“Oh no, Sister, she’s not sick” (this in a very dry tone)

“What’s the matter then?”

“Ah, that one” (meaning his wife). She doesn’t have any sense.

“Nothing to eat! She’s always outdoors talking. Nothing is good in the hut. She needs . . .”

“Well bring her here,” I interrupted to show myself willing to help.

“I will scold her and remind her of her duties.”

“Oh no, that’s not enough!”

“What then,” I asked slightly worried.

“That one, (still referring to his wife) ought to come here for at least a month to get a head on her shoulders!” “All right! Bring her.”

The next day my Bateke came back pulling “that one,” who looked very sheepish, after him. “How is it my daughter,” I asked her reproachfully, “that you don’t understand your new duties better? If you do not know how to keep house or prepare a meal for your husband, it would be better to come back with us for several days, maybe a month. Do you want to?”

“Oh yes,” she sighed.

“That is fine,” beamed the happy husband.

Obediently the young wife began her new apprenticeship to learn how to prepare good cassava and fish with oil dressing, the staple food of her lord and master.

Bateke came to see his recluse before the month was up.

“You can take your wife back now,” I offered, “she will be wise and capable from now on.”

“No, No,” protested the obstinate husband. “She must stay the thirty days.”

And at the end of thirty days the couple was reunited. The last news of them was good. My Bateke is satisfied. “That one has sense now.”

What is possible in Congo is scarcely possible among us. A husband cannot send his wife back to school for a course in Home Economics or back home to her mother to be instructed in her duties . . . As a consequence his home is run helter skelter fashion. Nothing is ready on time, the food is spoiled, the clothing is not properly cared for, the bills are not paid, the accounts are not kept straight, the children are not dressed on time-there is general hubbub. How can there be peace in such a home where a woman has no sense?

Sometimes it is the man of the house who lacks sense. He manifests no business ability at all; wastes time and money; has no feeling for organization or sense of value; invests foolishly on the word of others and is an easy mark for wily and scheming confidence men. He is hesitant; can never make up his mind or if he does make a decision, he corrects it the next moment; begins everything but finishes nothing; undertakes a profession in which he expects to move mountains and work marvels only to abandon it several months later through lassitude or because he ambitions a career more to his liking and more lucrative.

This changing humor makes him choose one school after another for his children; none of them are ever exactly what he wants. Naturally the children suffer from it, they can’t profit by their classes, lose out on grades, and are in danger of becoming changeable too.

For a man above all the qualities of the heart can never replace solidity of the mind. He has to have a head on his shoulders, quick discernment, accurate knowledge, the power to decide, if not promptly in delicate matters at least always firmly, the ability to revise his decision when advisable and when the evidence demands it, because obstinacy has no value and reveals even more than indecision that a person lacks sense; but he must also have the power to hold his own against wind and tide, even when the odds seem against him, provided of course, that what he looks upon as opposition is not some difficult obligation of the moment he should be meeting rather than fighting.

WOMEN AND EDUCATION

A WOMAN educator of note in her book “L”Education selon 1”Esprit,” expresses an opinion that deserves full acceptance: “What is best for a young woman is not to be entirely absorbed in material works and the care of children but to keep a little freedom of time and of mind to continue her intellectual development. The gift she makes of herself to her own will be only the more precious; the services she will render them will be of a superior quality. She herself will be ennobled by these disinterested pleasures, defended against the temptations that are born of fatigue, boredom, and a barren interior life.

There are unfortunately some young women for whom this advice would be most difficult if not impossible to follow; they are obliged to work in the time they have free from family duties to provide for the necessities of life. But there are those who have leisure. That they ought to profit by it to cultivate their minds is quite evident.

The principal reason is the one already mentioned-to be able to give something of the intellectual riches they have acquired to their children later. One needs to know so many things to enlighten their young minds, to open up their little souls just at the threshold of life; their questions should be answered by something better than an irritable “Stop bothering me!”

Another advantage of growing in culture is that it helps one struggle against a sense of futility. Not that the thousand occupations demanded in a home are futile. But there are, over and above the essential things, a thousand little nothings with which one can fritter her time. That is the immense domain of the futile in which women flit about untiringly as a bird hops from bar to bar in its cage, a pretty bird of paradise.

But there is something worse than to be busy with little nothings and that is to do nothing. There is just a void, an exaggerated place left open for day dreaming-and the normal consequence-an open door for temptation.

“BECAUSE WHAT’S TO BE DONE IN A HOME UNLESS ONE DREAMS?”

If one does not apply the mind to serious and uplifting reflections, the devil will be right on hand to turn it to fantastic hopes: one relives stories read, reviews step by step girlish infatuations, ruminates over the imaginary or real deficiencies in her husband . . . Temptations are not far away!

Even if conscience preserves such a one from sin, she is always in danger of trouble, extreme sensitiveness and boredom from the drudgery of daily tasks.

Good reading which elevates the soul and stimulates thinking, which supplements religious knowledge, puts one in contact with great souls, will inspire to virtue and produce wonderful effects in the individual.

At the present time when the apostolate must deal with so many problems, is it asking too much of the one who expects to do good to be highly competent? The religious renaissance must begin with the educated groups. Ideas will always rule the world.

What poverty it is for women, so devoted as they are to the apostolate, to lack ideas; to live only by routine! They have forgotten but one thing-to light their lamps!

ENDURANCE

ABBE PERREYVE wrote to a young man of twenty who had told him of his hopes to marry: “Ah, my friend, next to the happiness of serving God in consecrated virginity, what is more beautiful than to link one’s life with that of a cherished woman; to share one’s whole soul, that is all his sorro ws; to begin with her that brief pilgrimage on which there are so many joys and tears that there is scarcely time to do a little good? What is more worthy of an immortal soul than to give his love in youth to the soul he must love always and before God to purify the ardor of his desires by submitting them to the duties of fidelity and of paternity?

“Do not laugh at love as those foolish souls do who are incapable of it. There is no nobler word among men. Love is not the pleasure, not the selfishness of enjoyment; it is not the delusion of a brutal passion. The one who loves gives himself more than anything else. The highest degree of love is sacrifice. That is why he only knows how to love who immolates his rest, his joys, his fortune even life itself for the being he ought to love on earth and in heaven.”

Wherever marriage is seriously and correctly regarded the word sacrifice is part of its vocabulary. There is no doubt about it, marriage brings with it the sweetest of human joys that can be tasted on this earth; but it also involves self-abnegations that are essential.

The Countess of Adhemar wrote to Abbe Fremont:

“Man and woman are united, not as they often believe with the best faith in the world, to give each other happiness, but, in reality, to seek it of each other. As their individual concepts of happiness may differ, there ensues for both of them a painful awakening.

That excellent bulletin the “Association du Mariage” Chretien carried a fine article by an author who identified himself with the initials C.B. The ideas expressed in it have much to contribute here:

“Love is not a bargain, it is not even an exchange; it is a sacrifice which should always be mutual. Each giving up and sacrificing the best of himself so that the best of the other’s self may live and grow.

“Clearly the great test is endurance. Oh, if only the honeymoon could last forever. But that cannot be. They must pass from blind love to clearsighted love; time requires this transformation but “the line” is not easy to cross-it is not easy to go from the torrid to the temperate zone. They must protect themselves against being deluded about this.

““Two young people go up to the altar for the beautiful nuptial ceremony,” writes Father Lacordaire, “They bring with them all the joy and all the sincerity of their youth; they swear eternal love for each other.

““But soon their joy diminishes, fidelity stumbles, the eternity of their pledges is broken to bits.

““What happened? Nothing. Hour followed hour; they are what they were except for one hour more. But one hour is much.””

The author adds it is true “outside of God.”

In order to triumph over time, over its duration, over monotony, over the friction resulting from character differences which become more evident with time, a supernatural spirit is absolutely necessary; it alone is able to call forth sacrifice, persevering sacrifice inspired by love.

UNBEARABLE HUSBANDS

To a brother of his who was very impatient, Saint Francis de Sales could not refrain from saying one day, “There is one womanin the world who must be very happy.”

“Who,” asked his brother.

“The woman you might have married had you married.”

Madam Acarie, a mother of six children was left a widow in 1613.

She later entered Carmel taking the name Marie of the Incarnation. Her husband had been an unpleasant character and helped not a little to enrich her with the virtues that led to her beatification. Once in a rare spell of good humor he admitted, “They say she will be a saint some day; I shall have helped her become one; they will speak of me at her canonization.”

Guy de Rabutin-Chantal, the father-in-law of Saint Jane Frances de Chantal, who took the saint to his home after her husband’s death was extremely hard to live with.

“He belonged to those well meaning and difficult old men who work efficaciously to make saints out of their women when they have in them the stuff from which saints are made,” commented one of his biographers.

After the death of a celebrated philosopher, his wife obtained an audience with the king of Sweden. The latter inquired with kindly interest about the habits of the deceased. The wife, in a sudden outburst, exclaimed, “Your Majesty, he was unbearable!” A certain historian recording her remark added, “If all biographers were as sincere as that lady, they would be able to engrave her judgment on her pedestal of all the monuments raised to heroes.”

Without accepting that opinion about heroes as our own-and admitting possibly that we are more willing to forgive them their foibles than others-is not the severe judgment on husbands a revelation of not too good an opinion?

And we could extend the litany. Chaliapine relates that a Russian general of his acquaintance used to give way to terrible fits of temper at home. The life of the general’s wife was a veritable hell. Happily one day she discovered a clever strategy. At the moment her husband’s fury started to let loose, she dashed to piano and struck up the national anthem. Must we believe the marvelous results obtained? The general stood at attention; his anger cooled off.

Every woman can’t have a general for a husband nor one so susceptible to harmony either. We know that music refines manners. How marvelous it can be on that point. But the best music for the wife in cases of this kind will be the music of silence.

Saint Monica’s husband used to drink heavily and when he came home with insults on his lips or speaking unbecoming or unintelligible words the poor wife had to practice a patience that we can readily imagine. She answered nothing and waited until the storm passed to remind him gently and lovingly of the law of God. She won almost unhoped-for results, which testified to her sanctity: she obtained the complete cure of her husband who became a temperate and controlled man.

Is there anything obnoxious in me which brings sufferings into my home? I will correct it as soon as possible.

UNBEARABLE WIVES

YESTERDAY the men were on trial. The chapter on the ladies will be no less edifying.

“What you need,” said a man to one of his bachelor friends who was disturbed by a vague nervous disorder, “what you need is a wife to share your troubles.”

“But I don’t have any troubles.”

“That is all right. You will have them after you marry.”

Such a story is not very expressive of esteem for marriage. Woman certainly has the power to console, but also the power to cause suffering.

The husband scolds, the wife gets angry. Does that make things any better? The husband, once the outburst is over forgets about it; not so the wife. She holds in reserve, unless she is very good, amazing desires for revenge. Moreover, she is argumentative.

“Look darling, look at the pretty bird that’s with those two crows.”

“Yes, I see, but there aren’t just two crows, there are three.”

“No, darling, look, there are only two.”

“But I tell you there are three. It’s always like that. I never have the right to be in the right.”

And soon the tears drop from her lashes.

Some women will pout rather than argue.

After a dispute which was of no great moment, a certain wife, pricked in her vanity, risked this imprudent threat. “If you don’t yield to me, I won’t talk to you for fifteen days.” The husband paid no attention and thought that after a short while life would settle down to normal again. But it didn’t. Silence. Silence. She would not deign to answer his questions even those asked with the most angelic sweetness.

The husband, beside himself, came to a decision. He began to empty out all the cabinets and table drawers, take the pictures off the walls and was about to attack the drapes with a pair of scissors.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING THERE?”

“I am looking for your tongue.”

Bursts of laughter restored peace. The pity is that the bursts of laughter had not occurred fifteen days earlier.

Tenacity has great worth. A woman probably has too much of it. She may expect to let it compensate for a certain strength she lacks. She realizes she is wrong because she is intelligent. She does not think she ought to yield because a miserable vanity gets in between her conscience and her decision.

It still remains that it is the woman in spite of her limitations and weaknesses who most often creates the happiness of the home and the man who spoils it. The moralist was not wrong who said,

“With all their faults, their perfidy, their subterfuge, their envy and their lies, with their strong perfumes, their paint and their powder, their imperfections and their wretchedness, poor women are so much more courageous, more generous, more patient, more virtuous, more faithful than we men!”

Let each of the married partners judge himself or herself by his or her own conscience, and mindful of the happiness of the other, correct as soon as possible what might trouble the harmony of the home.

THE COUNSELS OF MADAME ELIZABETH

THE sister of Louis XVI, Madame Elizabeth who was a woman of fine psychological acumen and deep nobility of character gave to one of her ladies in waiting who had recently married this practical advice:

“Above all seek to please your husband . . . he has good qualities but he can also have some that are not so pleasing. Make it a rule for yourself never to concentrate on these and above all never permit yourself to talk of them; you owe it to him as you owe it to yourself. Try to look at his heart; if you truly possess it, you will always be happy. Make his house agreeable for him; let him always find in it a woman eager to please him, busy with her duties, with her children, and you will in this way win his confidence; when you once have that, you will be able to do, with the mind heaven has given you and a bit of cleverness, anything you wish.”

The outcome is interesting. Everyone knows it: “Man reigns but woman governs.”

“I will do it if God wills it,” said the husband of a rather dictatorial wife.

“Now you are talking nonsense,” said his friend, “why you haven’t even asked your wife’s permission.”

Woman instinctively, and above all when she loves, loves to be docile. Nothing costs her too much and at times she goes to the point of sacrifices extremely taxing for herself if her heart is captive. But at the same time she loves to dominate.

The heroine of a comedy revealed, with exaggeration of course, a trait that is often found in woman. The said heroine had not yet married but she already was engaged in making her fiancee dance to her thirty-six wills and to goad him onwith a thousand pin pricks: “I prick him, I make him go, I already treat him as my husband.”

Even when they are not so naughty, women by using to advantage their weakness and their charm usually succeed in making their husbands pretty much as they want them.

In his genially caustic style Emile Faguet used to say, “Women are divided into three classes: those who are inclined to obey sometimes, those who never obey, those who always command.”

Let women never use their power for the egotistic satisfaction of their self-love. Let them rather have in view only God’s glory and, especially in the spiritual government of their home, let them know how to make God’s glory understood as it ought to be. They should be able to gain a hearing in the most vital matters when duty is at stake or when the worship due to God is involved; in other matters let them be ready to yield. They will purchase by their perpetual abnegation in these lesser things the right to be listened to in more important matters and their husbands will realize that when they do resist their wishes it is not because of vanity but because of virtue.

WOMAN, THE STRENGTH OF MAN

IS IT not often true in a home that “the strength of the man is many times in the woman.”

Man, who in principle at least and often in fact possesses physical resistance and moral energy, is sometimes singularly deficient; he hides under the appearance of strength an intimate need to lean on someone, to be led, encouraged, assisted.

Is it not also true that one great source of happiness in marriage is the reciprocal help the two give each other, the husband to his wife, the wife to her husband?

Joseph Proudhon from whom we would not expect such correct ideas, has given us some beautiful pages on the help that woman is called to giveto her husband. He took for his theme the Bible text: “And the Lord God said: It is not good for man to be alone: let us make him a help like unto himself.”

“Woman is a helper for man because by showing him the ideality of his being she becomes for him a principle of admiration, a gift of strength, of prudence, of justice, of courage, of patience, of holiness, of hope, of consolation without which he would be incapable of bearing up under the burden of life, of preserving his dignity, of fulfilling his destiny of bearing with himself.

“Woman is man’s helper first of all in work by her attentions, her sweet company, her vigilant charity. It is she who wipes his forehead that is moist with perspiration, who rests his tired head upon her knees, who cools the fever of his blood and pours balm into his wounds. She is his sister of charity. Ah! let her only look at him, let her season the bread she brings him with her tenderness: he will be strong as two, he will work like four.

“She is his helper in the things of the mind by her reserve, her simplicity, her prudence, by the vivacity and the charm of her intuitions.

“She is his helper in justice, she is the angel of patience, of resignation, of tolerance, the guardian of his faith, the mirror of his conscience, the source of his devotedness.

“Man can brook no criticism, no censure from man; even friendship is powerless to conquer his obstinacy. Still less will he suffer harm or insult. Woman alone knows how to make him come back and prepares him for repentance and for pardon.

“Against love and its entanglements, woman, marvelous being that she is, is for man the only remedy.

“Under whatever aspect he regards her, she is the fortress of his conscience, the splendor of his soul, the principle of his happiness, the starof his life, the flower of his being.”

What praise for woman! What responsibility for her to be in her home, the fortress of conscience, almost a living translation of divine commands!

Let her strive to deserve this role by the solidity of her principles, the energy of her convictions, the convincing strength of her calm statements.

IS GENIUS CELIBATE?

CERTAIN authors have denied that woman is a help for man at least intellectually and often also morally. They claim that feminine contact and the demands of the home weaken the strong; the words of the physiologist Garnier, “genius is celibate” have been capitalized on by some.

One of the great advocates of this thesis is Tolstoi who did not hesitate fourteen months after his marriage to have one of the characters in his book “War and Peace” say:

“Never marry, never, my friend. That is my advice. Do not marry, at least not before you can say to yourself that you have accomplished the whole of your destiny before discovering woman such as she is. Otherwise you will be cruelly disillusioned. Marry when you are no longer anything but an old man, good for nothing; otherwise all there is of good and noble in you will perish; all will be spent in little things. Yes, if in the future you expect anything of yourself, you will feel that all is finished for you, except the parlor where you will be on the same footing as a court valet or a fool . . . My wife is an admirable woman. She is one of those rare women with whom one can be tranquil about his honor, but, my God, what would I not give not to be married . . . You are the first person, the only person to whom I say that, because I love you.”

Tolstoi himself left his home to escape from this sad sensation of a missed life.

The part that is true about all this is that for certain individuals and in certain careers the choice of a companion for life is of paramount importance.

Ozanam, who was a professor at the Sorbonne, wondered if he would ever find the woman of his dream; not only someone who would love him, but someone who would understand him; be willing to see him buried in books and apparently neglect her to keep company with ideas; someone who in the intimate converse of conjugal life would not be silent, unintelligent, or unreceptive but capable of taking an interest in her husband’s studies and even help him in his work.

Jean du Plessis de Grenedan, a marine officer, used to wonder if he would ever find the woman he hoped for; a woman who would accept the career of her husband and not melt into tears at every leave-taking as if her husband heartlessly went away to make her suffer; who would not, except for serious reasons unbiased by whim, require him to give up going to sea and accept a land commission; someone who would not be depressed during his long absences.

Because of a too selfish idea of home-life, some women do weaken their husbands, hamper their vocation, their profession or their apostolate. They have that type of jealousy which considers all that is not given to them as stolen from them. They are satisfied only if they can keep the chosen one of their heart always with them and have him constantly at their feet.

A wife should stimulate and encourage but never paralyze.

THE POWER OF A SMILE

THERE is in Rome not far from the basilica of Saint Agnes, which was built over the spot at which she was martyred, another church—Our Lady of Peace. It is more or less a custom for newlyweds to attend Mass here the day following their marriage; it is as if they realized that Mary’s help is none too much to help them preserve peace in their homes.

Nothing so helps to preserve the mutual attraction husband and wife have for each other as cheerfulness, the habit of taking everything in good part, of keeping one’s balance in the midst of disturbing circumstances, of bearing personal anxieties without letting them become noticeable, so as not to sadden the other. Nothing so quickly kills this attraction as nagging over little things, pettiness in any form, referring to the blunders of the other, magnifying some omissions, manifesting suspicion. The ideal of cheerfulness is to display as spontaneously as possible, without the least trace of effort an amiable gaiety ever ready to smile.

Wrangling, ill-humor or simply sulkiness are the great enemies of homes. Particularly when these things have their source in the wife is there grave danger; for husbands may be tempted to seek outside the home and out of the path of duty the ray of sunshine they cannot find at home.

Little heed should be paid to imprudent comments on the part of neighbors and acquaintances, supposedly so wellmeaning, who think they are rendering a service by revealing, confidentially of course, the goings-on of this one and that one. Little heed should be given to insinuations that are made sometimes without any foundation; they have a peculiar power to throw a gloom over the soul if they get a hearing. Peace is lost to the soul; someone’s perfidy or inopportune truthfulness killed it.

No matter what happens keep your power to smile.

A certain wife was on the verge of despair; bits of gossip she picked up here and there and other evidence which she thought she discovered revealed to her that her husband was in love with another woman. This woman had been flitting about the unfortunate man; at first he pretended not to notice it; one day out of a sense of duty he actually put her in her place. But then, little by little, her persistence won out and he yielded ground. He was not far from actual betrayal of his home.

His wife, not knowing what to do, went to her confessor. The priest first put her through an examination of conscience: “Have you always in your home life manifested patience, no matter what happened; a joy that uplifts, a reserve which attracts, a calmness which inspires confidence?”

She had to confess that she had failed many times against these virtues. Instead of showing herself more attractive, she had allowed her wounded self-love-which could easily be understood- get the upper hand; she did not hide her suspicious attitude and began to give way to little expressions of spitefulness. Such unwise tactics, instead of retaining her husband’s loyalty, helped to strengthen the attraction of her rival.

“ACT DIFFERENTLY,” THE CONFESSOR ADVISED HER. “LEARN TO SMILE!”

A short while after, the husband in a moment of confidence confessed the risk he had run and revealed that the smile of his wife and her confident joyous spirit had saved him from the abyss. “I did not have the right to destroy such happiness, to annihilate a hope that was so evident.”

Wives woulddo well to follow this very judicious advice: “Love your husbands as if you were sure of their hearts and act as if you still had to win them.”

A DEVASTATING DISPOSITION

EVEN when a person has great desires for good he can fall far short of the program for holiness he dreamed of following; he lets himself slip into faults of speech or unpleasant attitudes-yes, unfortunately he may fall more seriously or come perilously near betraying his strongest obligations.

If then he finds himself constantly confronted with harshness, reproaches, a set face, he may perhaps drift farther away from his duty instead of being sorry for his negligences and failings.

He has a much better chance of getting back to the right path if he is met not with irritability and sharpness but with a receptive gentleness that announces and promises pardon without having to express it, yet is withal earnest and firm.

Does God deal otherwise with us? He tried throughout the Old Testament to adopt a severe manner and to brandish a threat, a plague or some other menace each time the Chosen People went astray. He realized that this was not the best way to lead His poor elect people back to repentance. He changed His formula, and modified His way with them.

Rather than hurl thunderbolts at them He offered His Heart:

“Behold this Heart that has so loved men!” What cruelty not to give any other return than ingratitude, contempt.

It is striking in the Gospel that Our Lord is not so much concerned about demanding our fidelity as He is about revealingHis own. He does not say, “Here is how much you must love Me and the way you should love Me.” No, but “Greater love than this no man hath.”

“To such an extent has Christ loved the world,” marveled Saint Paul-to such an extent! Do you understand?

Christ reiterated His love and gave new proofs of His love much more than He expressed reproach.

There are few souls who can imitate this Christ-like magnanimity when they suspect or discover that someone has failed them. Yet we must all strive for it and aim at attaining the perfection of Christianity, the complete Gospel ideal.

Isabelle d”Este was forsaken to a certain extent by her husband, one of her biographers informs us. Did she shower him with reproaches? Did she send him upbraiding letters, violent literature? Nothing of the sort. With firm simplicity mixed with tenderness she wrote:

“ . . . I am very well. Your Highness must not say it is my fault if I disagree with you, because as long as you showed me some love, no one could have persuaded me that you did not love me. But I do not need anyone to tell me to know that for some time Your Highness has loved me very little. However as this is an unpleasant subject, I shall cut it short and speak no more of it . . .”

Whether or not her husband returned to his duty after receiving this message is not so sure. There are some hearts that resist everything. At least his wife had chosen the best means to win him back.

MEN’S VIRTUES VERSUS WOMEN’S VIRTUES

MANY MEN, still victims of an old prejudice, are very demanding when there is question of the moral life of their wife or their fiancee, yet strangely indulgent with regard to their own moral life. It is taken for granted that the wife must be pure and remain pure; she must come to marriage as a virgin and preserve the chastity of her married state. What of the man?

It is significant that women too seem to expect men to act differently, and to accept this double standard, as the reaction of the young woman in the following incident indicates:

Her husband was guilty of a flagrant betrayal of their love and had been unfaithful almost from the beginning of their marriage. The poor girl was discussing the situation with her father-in-law who was incensed at his son and raged against him, “If he carries on like that he is a blackguard, a vile monster!” And the wife had no other comment to make than, “He’s a man!”

Questionable praise, we must confess, for the masculine gender!

Christian morality does not subscribe at all to such standards. There is no double standard: one type of morality for young men and one for young women; one for husbands and one for wives. That man has a stronger pull toward the physical is possible; that he may be bolder and less restricted by delicacy or timidity; that because of his profession he must leave home frequently and consequently have more occasion to forget his wife and as the ugly saying goes “have his fling” is very true. But none of these reasons justifies or authorizes his misconduct.

An author who plays up his native city in his writing does not refrain from criticizing, and justly, those respectable men-the seventeenth century called them persons of quality-who in their own city enjoy an honorable reputation, figure prominently in their parish church, entertain the clergy frequently, but the minute they have left their city, forget their principles, take their morals lightly, read sexy novels which they lay in store at the station if they can do so unobserved and think nothing of sharing their hotel room with a chance woman acquaintance.

Let us allow for the author’s satire and his outlook. But is it all false?

And when the little ragamuffin standing on the station platform heard the woman say to her departing husband, “Take care of yourself and don’t forget me,” wasn’t it just the impudence of the rascal that made him say to her smartly, “Don’t fret ma’am, he just tied a knot in his handkerchief!”

Out of sight, out of mind . . . May that never be true! Likewise may it never be said, “Out of sight, free from duty!”

MAN’S FIDELITY

THE tolerance with which some worldly people regard the irregularities of men is scarcely credible. That is none the less their attitude. Everything is permissible for men. They are to be excused because of their temperament. “Nature gets the best of them, isn’t that true? We must understand them and not be over severe.”

How refreshing it is to hear a woman repudiate such unwarranted indulgence and condemn as should be condemned the liberties the world accords men in the matter of marital betrayal. Isabelle Riviere in “The Bouquet of Red Roses” gives us this satisfaction:

Agatha, the young woman in the story, picks up a volume of a contemporary writer; in the selection “The Evening With Mr. Teste” by Paul Valery, she came upon this opening paragraph:

“Stupidity is not my strong point. I have seen many individuals, visited several nations, I have taken part in various enterprises without liking them. I have eaten every day. I have gone with women.”

She blushed with indignation and showed this last sentence to her husband.

“I find that statement more vile than the worst obscenity.”

“WHY, MY DEAR?”

“Such utter disregard of fidelity! That complacent way of regarding man alone as the center of the world, and regarding the whole world, women included, as objects for his use,as just so many accessories. Don’t you find that disgusting?”

“Yes . . . I believe it is the negation of all truth, of all love in any case.”

Bravo! Let this vagabond Mr. Teste claim if he will that stupidity is not his strong point. He certainly takes the prize for presumption and cynicism.

Granted that woman is more soul than man, and he more body than woman, more alive to the physical, that does not authorize him to do as he pleases with the law of God and the dignity of women. Certainly if he expects to remain faithful without taking the necessary means, he will hold out only with great difficulty.

Watch and Pray. Here is a man who exposes himself to every risk, who seldom if ever prays, who receives Holy Communion just at Eastertide or at very, very great intervals. Even if he has a high sense of honor and deep respect for woman’s dignity, he will have great difficulty keeping his soul intact. We must not separate the demands of morality from the helps Our Lord gave us to observe them. To conform to the laws without having recourse to the helps is practically impossible. “Without Me,” said our good Master, “You can do nothing.”

What must we conclude then from the fact that man has greater difficulty than woman in preserving chastity? That he is free to dispense himself from chastity? Certainly not, but that he must pray more than his wife, practice more Christian prudence than his wife since he is more exposed to danger than she is both by his more vehement temperament and the occasions brought about by his business.

A WIFE WITH CHARACTER

PEOPLE say that husbands do not like too strong a personality in their wives. Doubtless there are some sufficiently imprudent to prefer a simpleton or a doll, provided she is exteriorly alluring, to a woman of real worth who may prove to be someone to cope with. To such men, the otherwise incorrect but witty sentence might truly be applied, “Women know well that men are not so stupid as people believe, they are more so!”

In the history of Byzantium, an interesting incident is related. Queen Theodora had just come into power. Her son, the prince who would succeed her should have a wife. According to custom messengers were sent out to bring to the palace the twelve most beautiful girls they could find.

After the first elimination six remained from whom the future emperor. Theophilus was to choose his wife.

Holding a golden apple in his hand the prince began his review. He was much attracted by a certain Kasia and just for something to say, he paid her this dubious compliment, “It is through woman that all evil has come to us.”

“Yes,” retorted Kasia, “but also all good.”

Frightened by such quick reply, indicative of a quick temperament, Theophilus carried his golden apple to someone else.

A SPLENDID EXAMPLE OF MASCULINE STUPIDITY!

Happily the time when men reasoned that way is past. Those who are intelligent want to find in the woman they choose for their wife a person who is a real person.

Not one of those blue-stockings justly contemned by the truly wise, for forgetting the reserve which is the precious attribute of their sex, posing as intellectuals, acting mannish, using language which lacks refinement and foolishly aping masculine ways.

When women are not women, they are worse than men and they are ridiculous besides.

Man does not desire to find a duplicate of what he is when he looks for a companion! It is Eve that Adam desires.

But he wants an Eve who is not just a woman expert in trinkets and in whom veneer takes the place of mental and moral virtues; he wants an Eve who is an honest-to-goodness woman, and if possible, one of unusual character; one who can see the world otherwise than through the narrow dimensions of the ring she wears on her finger and does not concentrate all her attention on her jams and jellies or her next new outfit; a woman who thinks before all else of her home, but precisely because she wants her home to be attractive and she herself to be attractive in that home, seeks to enlarge her horizons and to be truly a real person.

PRAISEWORTHY VANITY

A HUSBAND who is a man of sense as well as a good Catholic proposes this question: Ought concern for their appearance be something foreign to Christian wives? He answers the question himself:

“That would be simply ridiculous. I confess that I feel thoroughly enraged when I see women who act as if they were being very virtuous by their slovenly appearance and poor taste in dress. First of all, they commit a fault against beauty and grace which are God’s gifts. But their fault is graver still: Have these noble souls taken care to consult their husbands and to assure themselves that he approves of this treatment? Let them not be surprised then if their husbands look elsewhere for satisfaction. Christian women must know once for all that to dress with taste and even with distinction is not a fault; that to use cosmetics is no fault either unless the results are esthetically to be regretted; that adornment as such is one of those questions of convention which is purely accidental and remains completely foreign to the moral order. Virtue owes it to itself to be attractive and even strongly attractive. The only thing that must be avoided is excess. There is excess when a Christian woman devotes all the powers of her mind to becoming as exact a copy as possible of the models in Vogue or Charm to the point of neglecting her duty. A woman who for love of dress would ruin her husband, neglect her children or even refuse to have them for fear of spoiling her figure would fail by excess.”

This viewpoint is full of wisdom; it defends right use and at the same time condemns abuse.

One of the most ordinary vanities of women is the desire to look young. Husbands are in sympathy with this trait especially when years have rolled over the home. All women need do is purify their intention so as not to offer sacrifice to vanity; they should avoid exaggeration which makes them ridiculous.

They might just as well, for no one will be deceived except those who are willing to be. The world is penetrating almost to the degree of the oculistdescribed in the book “The World As I See It”:

This dignified gentleman, wise in the ways of the world, received his patient and listened sympathetically to her symptoms, asked the necessary questions, made his examination and gave his verdict: “Well, it’s plain, you have cataracts. It’s not a disease, it’s sign of age. You told me you were forty-three: I wrote you down in my record as being fortyseven; but you have passed the fifty mark. Don’t be disturbed by this.”

If husbands have the right to demand that their wives try to keep themselves attractive, it is clearly evident that they in turn must do the same.

The wise advice to wives on the subject of personal appearance which was quoted earlier was followed by this equally judicious advice to husbands:

“They have a duty to avoid becoming absorbed completely by their professional concerns. They ought to show themselves not only eager to be in their wife’s company but attentive, even loving, and that, whatever be their age. There must be no false modesty or self-consciousness here: a husband owes it to himself to merit each day the love of his wife. Is it right for them to be willing to make the solidity of their home rest solely on the sense of duty they assume their wife possesses? Don’t they ever fear losing her love or do they imagine such fears to be restricted to lovers only? Do they then want to treat their wife less considerately than they would treat a mistress?”

Let husbands and wives in wise self-possession enjoy a happy, beautiful, and reverent liberty.

A DIRECTOR’S COUNSELS

IN HIS book “La jeune Mariee,” Leon de la Briere quotes the advice given by a spiritual director to his penitent in the 14th century:

“You ought to be attentive and devoted to the person of your husband. Take care of him lovingly, keep his linens clean and orderly because that is your affair. Men should take care of the outside business; husbands must be busy going and coming, running here and there in rain, wind, storm, and sleet; they must keep going dry days or rainy days; one day freezing, another day sweltering, badly fed, badly lodged in poorly heated houses and forced to rest in uncomfortable beds.

“But they do not mind any of this because they are comforted by the hope that they will enjoy the care their wife will give them on their return.

“How pleasant the thought of taking of his shoes before a cheerful fire, of bathing, putting on clean clothes, fresh shoes and stockings; eating well prepared meals that are properly served; of being sheltered from the inclemencies of the weather; of being obeyed; of retiring to sleep between fresh sheets and under warm bed coverings; good furs.

“Remember the country proverb which says that there are three things which drive a man from his house: “a house without a roof, a chimney that smokes, and an argumentative wife.”

“Therefore, my daughter, I urge you to be gentle, agreeable and good-natured in order to keep in the good graces and the love of your husband.

“Then all the while he is busy, he will have his mind and his heart directed toward you and your loving service. He will abandon every other house, every other woman, every other service. It will all be as so much mud compared to you.”

Some very definite virtues are needed to follow out such program:—a very high degree of pure intention to accomplish in a supernatural spirit the thousand little attentions required by human love; a deep seated charity that becomes more active and more vital by the tender affections of the heart for the beloved; a habit of order which has a place for everything and everything in its place; skill in home-making, that essential feminine talent of making a house a home, cheerful and agreeable, a warm and pleasant nest, and the desire on the part of the wife to make as many things as she can herself.

At the beginning of married life love alone without any special attraction toward renunciation makes such a harmony of virtues a possible achievement.

However, there comes a time in many homes when the spirit of renunciation must come to the rescue of love. Not that husband and wife no longer hold any attraction for each other, but they know each other too well to be under any delusions regarding their insufficiencies and they have to be able to pass over many imperfections. It is helpful for them under such circumstances to recall that marriage is a sacrament whose particular grace is to help the wedded couple live their life together.

Honest observers of Christian marriage recognize this: Catholicism has worked a great wonder, “it has succeeded in steadying the vagabond and insatiable sexual urge, it makes long cohabitation possible, it makes characters more supple and tempers dispositions; through constant effort and the joy of duty accomplished, it increases the moral worth of the individual giving meaning thereby to life and to death; it gives to society the most solid support upon which it can stand.”

FRIENDLY ARGUMENT

JUST as bickering, sulking, and domineering opposition should be avoided by husbands and wives, so free and friendly discussions should be encouraged as an aid to bind their souls in a closer union. Strife and rivalry motivated by self love is one thing, but sane and cordial disagreement or exchange of ideas is quite another. It is from the clash of ideas that light shines forth. And also warmth.

Writing to a young married couple, Bishop Dupanloup said to them:

“You were both astonished the first time I recommended argument to you-friendly argument-and still more astonished when I answered your statement, “we shall never argue,” with the comment “So much the worse for you!”

“The truth is that in a society so intimate, so constant as marriage, if you do not feel free to discuss and even to engage in friendly argument, it is evidence of constraint between you; there is something which is preventing the free expansion of your souls.

“These little disagreements founded primarily on the affectionate observation of your mutual failings will not alter the peace of your home in the least; on the contrary, I believe that they will establish in it a more profound peace and more intimate union, because they will assure both of you of your reciprocal confidence.”

Actually, as it is easy to see, the bishop was advising his spiritual children not so much to argue as to discuss. And if one insists on using theword “argument” it must be modified by the word “friendly.” Then let them go to it!

Saint Louis was conversing one day with Queen Marguerite. She was complaining that the king did not have enough pomp in court functions and that he himself did not dress with the magnificence befitting official ceremonies. He thought, on his side, that the queen was taking some advantage of her position and that she gave way to excess in the richness of her dress.

“Would it really please you if I dressed more magnificently?” asked the king.

“Yes, I so wish you would.”

“Very well then, I shall do so, because the law of marriage urges the husband to try to please his wife. But since this obligation is reciprocal, it is only right that you should conform to my desire.”

“AND WHAT IS THAT?”

“THAT YOU GET INTO THE HABIT OF DRESSING AS SIMPLY AS POSSIBLE!”

Well done! In friendly arguments such as this, charity as well as finesse and courtesy scores its point.

Don’t think you must always be right. You ought to defend your point of view but you should not be hostile to the opposite viewpoint just because it’s the opposite viewpoint and before you ever begin to discuss. Two minds are better than one-unless of course they’re two negatives.

If the other person is right or it is better for the sake of peace to pull down your flag, then give in graciously and without bitterness.

FEMININE FAULTS

WOMAN has a lively imagination; that is an asset. It can, however, soon become a fault; she readily builds up fanciful notions, and because an object is pleasant and flatters her taste, she seizes upon it as something worth having, confounding the attractive with the good, and salves her conscience with this false sense of value.

A critic could say with no little truth, “Every woman has three lives- a life she endures, a life she wants, and a life she dreams about; the first is made up of the things she does despite the fact they do not please her, the second is made up of the things she does because they please her and the third, of the things she doesn’t do either because she can’t or because even while desiring them she does not actually want them.”

The third trait is the most interesting -this dream-life is the one that occupies woman the most. She plots situations to suit her fancy in which through the power of her imagination she is the heroine. The result is that she chafes at the impossibility of actually achieving what her imagination conceives or her sensibilities evoke.

Man, being obliged to plunge himself into things, to lose himself in occupations which if not more engrossing than home-tasks are at least more evident as to their consequences and much less conducive to meanderings of the imagination, is more given to hard-headed realism. He is in danger of living too much in the prosaic and of lacking verve; woman is generally not lacking in verve, but she easily lands in the stars for riding a myth.

Further, man, unless he is born talkative -and then he is truly obnoxious-is much less tempted to loquaciousness than woman. Knowing better than woman how difficult it is to be informed and being unwilling to talk unless he is informed, he is more discreet, less discursive; woman, less impressed by the necessity of being well-informed before speaking, begins by talking; she learns later.

Since woman’s intuitions are much more rapid, she manages to talk on almost any subject without knowing much of anything thoroughly; it is a wonderful help to speak with ease because she is not hampered by the difficulty of being exact.

In addition woman has greater zeal, she is more apostolic, she has proselytizing in her blood. When Our Lord wanted to evangelize Sichem, it was a woman he sent-the Samaritan woman. And the work was well done; she quickly told her friends and acquaintances-all the people of the little village-what she had said to Jesus and what Jesus had said to her, even the admonition He had given her “Thou hast said well, “I have no husband,” for thou hast had five husbands, and he whom thou now hast is not thy husband.”

The love to talk is so strong in a woman that she does not hesitate to speak evil of herself to satisfy it.

Some cynic credits these cruel words to a child. Sympathetic friends asked the little one what his father’s last words were. He said, “Papa did not say any last words; Mamma was with him to the end.” It is too clever to be true.

It is a well known and incontestable fact that there are many women who possess exquisite discretion. Indeed, if men were not also inveterate talkers, would they find so much occasion as they do to speak unkindly of women?

THE PSYCHOLOGY OF A MOTHER

FRANCOIS MAURIAC gives us a keen analysis of a phase of maternal psychology:

“So did our mother appear to me: a creature above all creatures . . . It is strange to think that the most mediocre women and even the most wicked have been in the eyes of their little boy this almost divine being. “ . . . The child must grow, withdraw from his mother; it requires separation for him to judge this creature of whom he was born. It is necessary for her to let this man, her son, try his luck, take risks, love a woman and take her to himself. All that seems simple and in keeping with the wish of nature. Yet, it is just that which gives rise to a drama more often than one would think.

“ . . . The hen drives away the grown chick who persists in following her but many women do not have that instinct.

In their son they never see the child die; and this graying man that they wait on, that they scold, is still a little boy to them.”

Further on he says:

“As we advance in life, we perceive that man in his declining years has as much need of his mother as when he was a child. In truth, the child in us never dies; as soon as sickness attacks us and disarms us, the child is there again, that demanding child, who needs spoiling, confidence, who wants to be consoled and cradled. And that is why very often, the wife from instinct becomes a mother again at the bedside of this sick man; she assumes for the man whom weakness has reduced to a child the role of the mother who is no longer there.

“Such is perhaps the greatest marvel of the feminine heart-the intermingling of maternal and conjugal love within it, so fused into one that there remains only this tenderness of the wife bending over her wounded and suffering companion; this tenderness of which poor Verlaine dreamed when he wrote these two lines:

“How I am going to love you, beautiful little hands Clasped for a moment, you who will close our eyes.” Coleridge has said it well:

A mother is a mother still the holiest thing alive.

Unhappily, what has contemporary society not done to “kill the mother.”

In how many places, children are said to belong to the State; they do not even have to take the name of their parents; mothers are merely the material producers of the living persons which the country, the factories, and the army need. Their generative organs are considered. Their heart, not at all!

In other places maternity is so ridiculed that to have a family, particularly a large family, instead of being a glory, is an evidence of simple mindedness, old-fashioned ideas, and stupidity.

Again, selfishness has been developed to such a point that while sterility may not be directly advocated, an immoderate limitation of births has been effected. To be tied down with children! No, thank you! Before the war, Mauriac justly commented:

“Everything takes place in the world as if there existed a leader of gambling, a leader of the ball who feels that to fulfill his designs he must first of all strike at the mother.”

And these last lines have become more timely than ever:

“In the world that it will be necessary to reconstruct, effort will have to bear upon this aim: to restore woman to her true place, to give her back her essential mission.”

COURAGEOUS MOTHERS

EVERY woman, by the fact that she becomes a mother, is courageous, at least in regard to all that concerns her children.

She does not consider the trouble it is for her to watch at their bedside, to take care of them, to feed them, to help them; and if danger ever threatens them she will brave any perilto save them. Our Lord’s example of the mother hen gathering her chicks under her wing is touching and at the same time far below the realities of maternal psychology.

Sometimes this courage grows to unbelievable force. It is enough to recall many instances of this during the war. Times of peace are not without their examples. Here is one that is profoundly beautiful:

At a certain high school located by the seashore, several students who had gone out for an afternoon of swimming were drowned despite the vigilance of the instructors. With which family should the faculty begin to break the bad news? One mother whose son had been killed in the war of 1914–1918, lost two boys in this tragedy. She had a profound faith, a valor without equal. The Father Superior knew her. He would begin with her.

She was admirable. Standing before the two beds, she uttered no complaint, no reproach. The priest wanted to thank her for her delicacy in the face of such grief.

BUT HOW WAS HE TO INFORM THE OTHER MOTHERS?

I will go,” she said immediately. “They will not be able to say anything to me, for I have lost two.”

When misfortune strikes someone belonging to me, do I manifest the same serenity, the same supernatural spirit?

In the course of a pilgrimage from the North of France to Lourdes, a poor child had to be taken off the train at Poitiers. His mother and he were going to petition Our Lady for the cure of his malady which was in its last stages. Mary doubtless thought it better not to let this poor child on earth any longer. Shortly after the train left Tours, he died. At the Poitiers station the waiting room was quickly arranged to receive him. The mother remained near the body of her little one while the necessary preparations were made. She was not weeping, she held the child on her knees, she was praying. “You would think it was Our Lady of Seven Dolors,” whispered a sympathetic onlooker. It was true. She was not upset by the going and coming; she was absorbed in her suffering or rather she was dominating it; there was no outburst, no sobbing; she was praying. It was as if a halo of holiness surrounded her.

In sorrow it is not necessary to parade an impassibility which does not belong to earth. Our Lord wept over Lazarus. But it is essential to rise above the pain, to supernaturalize it; not to let it crush us; to understand through our tears that God is always good, and that if He makes us suffer, it is not to break us but to lift us up, to let us share His Calvary, to give us the means of sharing more richly in the Redemption.

O my God, I offer You my poor heart ravaged, bruised and aching. Crucified Jesus, help me in my crucifixion. I unite my tears with the Blood of Your wounds. May all serve for the good of my dear ones, for souls, for all souls.

COURAGEOUS FATHERS

IF MOTHERS who have a profound faith can give evidence of a courageous zeal, fathers who are animated by solid religious principles can also offer examples of singular magnanimity.

A young Jesuit who had come from a large family was stricken with a sudden fatal illness. Hurriedly his parents were sent for. When they arrived their boy was already in his agony and died before their eyes. As soon as he had gasped his last breath, the father knelt down and leaning toward his wife asked, “If you will, dear, let us recite the Magnificat that God called our boy to religious life and that He took him at the age of Saint Aloysius.”

Pierre Termier, the famous Christian geologist had a son. One day, the boy who was then fourteen years old, came home from school in gay spirits. He took the elevator to go to their apartment. There was an accident on the way up and the boy’s head was badly crushed, causing instant death. The mother was overcome with grief. Her husband said to her, “Believe sincerely, my poor wife, that if God asks such a sacrifice of us, it is not for the pleasure of making us suffer, but for the eternal happiness of our child.”

In how many homes where death has come because of the war has God been able to admire heroic resignation like this and superhuman joys in trial!

Assuredly, the designs of Divine Providence are mysterious. Why, why have all these young lives been snuffed out before they were able to attain virtues or enjoy the achievements of maturity? There is doubtless the possibility for expiation; who will ever know the power for reparation that all these holocausts will have in the life of a people called to offer them?

Then too there are individual reasons. How do we know what would have become of so-and-so or such a one among the young men of our acquaintance if they had lived? Being mortal, they have died. Too young, no doubt. But who knows if this death in their youth has not assured their eternity? We judge as the world judges-the only precious thing seems to be life on earth. Really the only precious thing is eternal happiness. Perhaps many of these youthful dead, had they lived in our world of sin, mingling with sin, would have lived in sin and died in sin. Is it not better, a thousand times better that they should have fallen at twenty in a magnificent act of generosity than to fall later at fifty or sixty with hell facing them?

Without even mentioning hell, what do a few years more bring to life if they must be passed-let us suppose they have been so passed-in spiritual insignificance and moral poverty?

To leave, if leave they must, is it not better that it be in beauty and in the exercise of heroic courage?

To be sure these noble thoughts cannot suppress the sufferings of fathers or of mothers. But in whatever situation we may be or whatever trial we must endure ought not faith always animate us? God never permits evil except that good may come. That is the truth we heard Pierre Termier recalling to his wife before the dead body of their son. I must tell it to myself in every trial and especially when faced with the bereavement of a dear one’s early death.

“The Lord gave and the Lord has taken away. Blessed be the name of the Lord;” that is how saintly Job spoke. That is how I want to speak in my turn.

A MOTHER’S ZEAL

A MARRIED woman, the mother of a family, writes:

“I do not lack zeal; it is ardent, but is it well understood? I should like to lead all men to be good, virtuous

Christians, but my position offers me so few occasions to put my zeal to work.”

Is it really true that a wife, a mother, a woman who stays at home has so little opportunity for the apostolate? There is first of all the good she can do her children by simply being near them and letting the flames of divine love which she nourishes within her soul penetrate them. Anyone who loves God and is eager for the salvation of his brethren cannot ever hide the inmost concern of his soul-this desire to glorify God as much as possible and to cooperate with his best effort for the sanctification of the world.

To practice the devotion of duty faithfully performed is not less efficacious than a more spectacular apostolate. To manifest by one’s example that the Will of God holds first place, that caprice counts for nothing, and that true happiness is in faithful, generous, fervent service is an apostolate in itself.

To bear witness to a great religion before the children calls for zeal. The mother quoted before seems aware of this. She says, “To unfold religion to them as a vast system, which it really is, a system which envelops nature and humanity to unite them to God, cannot but give them a desire to know it.”

So many educators and so many mothers fail miserably in this; they teach the children a religion without breadth, a religion which instead of delighting them repels them. That of course is the result of their not having sufficiently profound and sufficiently broad religious knowledge themselves. They have perhaps never read since they left school, no longer studied religious problems; they are satisfied to use their meager equipment into which erroneous ideas may have slipped and as a consequence they are incapable of answering difficulties or even imparting any enthusiasm to those with whom they speak.

Then there is the apostolate than can be exercised at home. Many wives regret that their husbands have not advanced farther religiously or that they are remiss in the practice of their religion generally because of a lack of intellectual Christian training.

Let them do all they possibly can to help their husbands and count on God to do the rest.

“I count on my daughters,” continues the woman quoted before, to accomplish a task that I have barely begun although I believed I was working at it. Let them pray often for their father that God may enlighten him on the important obligations of Christianity, that the world and its prejudices may quietly withdraw from his soul in order to let the true light shine in it with full splendor. Charles is good, fundamentally good; it seems to me that the uprightness of his heart, his excellent qualities call for a more perfect understanding of the truth. He has good will, respect for religion, esteem for virtue but he does not have within himself all the resources necessary. It is not his fault. God will doubtless accomplish His work and my children will have the consolation of seeing their father become a good and perfect Christian; it is the desire of my soul.”

And what about home-life? Is there no room for improvement? It is difficult, generally unwise to preach. The same holds true in regard to the circle of relatives, friends, and visitors who are often at the home. But a beautiful testimony of the Christian Faith in daily living will win hearts.

Is this not a very extensive field for apostolic zeal?

DOMESTIC HELP

A RECENT book on marriage is filled with splendid suggestions for happy home-life. One of its most interesting chapters is entitled “Those Who Help Us.” It glorifies the domestic personnel, those who despite the beautiful derivation from the ancient word prefer now to be called the help.

It is clear first of all that their reason for existence is not that their employers have a right to lead a lazy life because the help dispense them from working. Those who secure help for themselves must work as well as their servants. Since the demands of motherhood or of education for the mother or father, or professional duties outside the home constitute heavy obligations which will not leave time for all the housework too, it is easy to understand that they will call in helpers.

The ancient Latin word famuli which was used to designate the servants who shared the life of the family, familia, strikes the right note. Hired help should not be slaves in the service of hard and overbearing idlers; they are an enlargement of the family for a common task in which all hearts and all activities performed together form but a single unit, with each person in his proper place, but in intimate cohesion with the rest, or ought we not say, “intimate communion” with the rest.

Thanks be to God, we can still find employers who do consider their servants in this light and also servants whose spirit of charity makes their task if not always easy at least always loved, servants for whom it is an honor to serve.

In reality, masters of the house as well as hired help have the duty to serve. The useless have no place at all in Christian society. Saint Paul says that they who do not work have no right to eat. But the same kind of service is not required of all. In an army, there are those who fight on the front line, those who transport food supplies and munitions, those who prepare the ammunition behind the lines or spend themselves in the numberless tasks the country needs done. All contribute to the good of the whole.

To serve in the more humble positions requires a greater virtue, above all when this service requires subordination to those who have authority; we will never praise those too much who accept the employment of serving others, not with jealousy in their hearts and only because necessity forces them, but with humility and charity.

Those who are obliged to have domestic help ought to hold them in high esteem. They would of course fail in their duty if they let each one have his own way in the running of things; in domestic society as well as in every other society, there must be authority to be respected.

Employers must not demand tyrannically more than is fitting; they should give sufficient recompense for the services rendered. They need not think they have fulfilled their whole duty just because they pay a just wage; in a family all have rights, each one according to his position has a right to the affection of all. Employers who are parents must insist that their children be respectful to the help. The help should be invited to live in the atmosphere of the home and while high moral standards must be required of them they should be allowed liberty in their religious life.

A family is a domestic community. The zeal of all must be aroused for the well-being of each and in such a way that God may be glorified to a maximum degree in this nest where the great rule is understood to be not the code of the worldly spirit but the peaceable demands of the Gospel.

LOVE OUT OF BOUNDS

HERE is a married individual who has not found in marriage all that marriage seemed to promise or here is one who so far has had perfect happiness. But one fine day there comes into the picture the perfect creature, the dreamperson-the ideal.

Oh, to be sure, there is no thought of renouncing one’s home, but one dreams of a friendship of a very special kind . . . intellectual exchanges . . . There will be bodily separation but as high a degree as possible of soul union. They do not wish to fall. They will not fall. Is such a noble friendship forbidden?

A noble friendship is certainly not forbidden. But is that the case we are considering or is it not rather a dangerous friendship of which we speak? When beauty-let us suppose it is not just an imaginary ideal-does not coincide with the good, can there be anything else possible but seduction and fatal risk?

After all, have you not promised to another the entire gift of yourself. Love does not consist only in the material gift of the body but also and still more in the gift of the soul and of the heart. What then does this mean? Do you think you can divide the divine arrangement? Reserve for your marriage partner the traditional gift of your flesh while you are withdrawing the very part that gives honor and dignity to this tradition-your interior affection and fidelity.

Your partner in marriage has a right to your whole being. The day of your marriage you indicated no division; therefore you are in contradiction to what you have promised, to what God demands and to what your partner expects. Would either of you have accepted the other if you thought the endurance of the bond was based on whim and that an essential reserve was contemplated? Does not marriage involve at one and the same time the body and the heart. There can be no thought then of a simple material fidelity.

Reverse the roles. The temptation which you are experiencing- because it is a temptation and a sly temptation at that-is not experienced by you but by your partner. What would you think of giving in to it then? Would you be willing to accept the situation for yourself that you are tempted to impose on your partner?

You say “we shall never go so far as to be intimate.” Are you sure? How can you guarantee that after a primary infidelity you will not fall into a secondary infidelity? And what assurance against surprise have you? If you boldly walk up to danger, do you believe divine grace to be obligated to save you in spite of yourself? How many who like you claimed to be strong and sure of themselves have fallen! All the sins of infidelity in marriage begin like this.

Surely if at the first attack, this perverse love would reveal all its batteries the noble soul would revolt. But it doesn’t. It ingratiates itself, slipping in decorously and gently. Patience! It will turn sensual and you will be tricked!

Besides, suppose you do keep your senses in control, are sins of action only to be condemned? What of sins of thought? Of desire? Our Lord said, “that anyone who even looks with lust at a woman has already committed adultery with her in his heart.”

But you say, I shall accept only what is elevated, noble, in this friendship. So you say. But that you will not do because it is practically impossible. Let us just admit your hypothesis for the sake of discussion. All right, it is true for you. Is it true for the other person? Can you say positively that your imprudence will not arouse in him or in her troubled thoughts and desires? You are not an Archangel; the other person is no Seraphim. Well then? . . .

No! no! Away with lies and false reasoning! Lord, put order into my love. Grant that I may love only according to Your law.

THE FOLLY OF LOVE OUT OF BOUNDS

I HAVE meditated on the ethics on this kind of love. Now I shall consider a few examples of its consequences to convince myself of the right attitude if by chance I still need convincing.

Countess Potochka relates in her memoires that during the occupation of Poland by Napoleon she paid too much attention to a young French officer. Her words are interesting: “Faithful to my duties, I would not even consider the possibility of a sentiment that I should have avoided and I contented myself with denying the danger.” How many in similar circumstances do just that!

“It seemed permissible to me,” she continues, “to entertain friendship for a man who possessed all the qualities one would have desired in a brother.” She emphasizes the next point, and it is a current delusion: “I forgot-and this was the greatest of my wrongs-that a young wife ought not to have any other confidant, any other friend than her husband. But then, why did not my husband make me rememberit?”

If women can profit by meditating on the whole text, men ought to memorize the last line of it. It is unfortunately only too true that the infidelities of many wives have as their explanation, let us not say excuse, an initial fault on the part of the husband. Likewise the failings of many husbands in regard to marital fidelity have been prepared for at least by the bungling of their wives. Some men and some women try to justify their conduct on the basis of their particular situation.

“We are no longer in the ordinary conditions of marriage. We live fraternally and are consequently more free in our interior life since we have found through experience that a union of souls between us is not possible . . .” There is only one answer to such a statement: Even when by mutual consent, because of a lack of soul-union, husbands and wives live without practicing bodily union, they still have no right to infidelity of the heart. Such infidelity in addition to being against God’s law is opposed to the divine institution of the family.

I saw in the preceding meditation how it is against the law of God.

HOW IS IT AGAINST THE DIVINE INSTITUTION OF THE FAMILY?

The family is a couple and not an assembly of three persons. “They shall be two in one flesh.” To yield themselves to a passionate love outside of marriage can only augment and accentuate the distance between the husband and wife and introduce an element of damnable licentiousness. And if this new love does not satisfy you, will you have recourse to a third, a fourth? Where will you stop?

Throw away your novel and start living your duty! It is austere perhaps, but it brings its reward with it. Never will an upright soul find peace and happiness in a love which his conscience condemns, which it cannot do otherwise than condemn.

THE PRAYER OF THE MARRIED

OF PRIME importance to the married is their prayer together-that precious time in which the two souls united by the sacred bonds of marriage fuse their aspirations, thoughts and desires, forgetting to discriminate which are their own individually and present themselves to God, each mindful of the other, offering themselves in a unity that is continuously strengthened by a mutual love which increases tenfold every day.

Then when God has sent newcomers to the home, there will be prayer in common, each of the little tots and each of the older children will join in the prayer of father and mother and all will recommend to Our Lord the sanctification of the whole assemblage.

If ever circumstances such as war, travels, duties of state require a temporary and perhaps periodic separation, there will be the prayer said at a distance by each of the two hearts torn apart by the good-byes of parting and the prolongation of the absence-a prayer in which each under the eye of God strives to live together the same moment of life and pleads for the courage to continue the trip in unison to heaven.

Nor is any of this kind of prayer prejudicial to solitary prayer; when one of the two is engaged in the duties of his state or in some apostolic activity, the other more drawn to prayer, can in the silence of the soul seek to acquire from God for both of them and for the whole family, opportune graces. Prayer at such times will not only be prayer of petition but even more-an elevation of the soul to God to adore Him, to keep the Good Master company. There will be few words or specific reflections, but a gift of the heart, a search for union through intimacy of the soul. Or when one participates in the Liturgical prayer of the Church, there will be union of heart with the whole Church, a warmer and more fervent share in the Communion of Saints. The soul at the center of the world joins in the Sanctus of the numerous Masses that are being celebrated, and shares in the Great Prayer of Christ for the world.

There remains another form of prayer, the conjoined prayer of the parallel union of their two lives, not through any words or special acts, but by the consecration to God of the deeds of all their days, the wife at home, the husband in his office, or store, or shop. “Pray always,” said Our Lord; He did not mean that we must necessarily be always in the act of praying but in a state of prayer which means to so act that one’s whole life rises as a prayer because of the offering made of it to God and frequently renewed. The state of prayer is the state of elevation, the explicit or implicit gift made to God of all the minute particles of each instant’s activity.

Toward the end of his life, Saint Francis de Sales, overwhelmed by the occupations of his ministry and the responsibilities of a large diocese thought he was obliged to curtail somewhat his extra prayers of devotion. “I am doing,” he explained, “what is the same thing as praying.”

Mental prayer and vocal prayer are not always possible to the same degree for all, although all must assure themselves of at least the minimum, as the vital prayer of maintaining union with God.

PRAYER TOGETHER

IF Our Savior’s words, “Where two or three are gathered together in My Name, I am in the midst of them,” apply to strangers and persons indifferent to one another, how much more significant they are for two beings destined to be but one heart and one soul! No society can better draw down the graces of God through prayer than the society of man and wife. Already united by so many bonds, what a truly community-union does their conjoined prayer effect!

General Reibell who was asked to write the preface to a World War book took leave to strike this personal note: “There are two habits to which I remained faithful during our expedition: I kept a diary of each day’s events and the reflections they aroused in me; then I read a chapter of the New Testament and a selection from the Imitation in the order my wife and I had agreed upon before parting; in this way we prepared a meeting place for our intimate thoughts across the distances which separated us. If, as happened on rare occasions, I was obliged to neglect this double obligation for a day or two at the most, I made up for it the following days, bringing myself up to date both in my journal and in my reading. When I completed the reading material I began over in the same order as before until the end of the double set of three hundred sixtyfive days of our African campaign.”

The husband in this case is the one who took the first step. Frequently the lead in the spiritual is taken by the wife. Often husbands are grieved to the depths of their being because they see that their wives do not draw the family to God.

Whether the husband or the wife takes the initiative matters not so much; what does matter is that a Christian family should advance spiritually to the degree of performing together the essential acts of religion.

There will be times when real necessity obliges husband and wife to fulfill certain religious exercises separately; for example, if the wife is nearing the time of her delivery or has just given birth to a child, or if for domestic reasons they must attend different Masses so that someone can be home to take care of the personnel or watch the children . . .

Aside from such cases, it is desirable that they should perform as many of their spiritual duties as they possibly can together; theirs is to be an association. Let them pray together beside their bed, exchange intimate thoughts after an inspiring and spiritual reading done together, say grace before and after meals together and so on through the other opportunities for prayer in their life.

One of the two may have a greater taste for prayer than the other and there is no reason why it should not be satisfied, no reason why the claims of grace and the attractions of the soul should not be followed after the spiritual exercises which should be done together have been fulfilled; duty of state must always come first, must be safeguarded.

In this way independence of soul is assured along with close cooperation, in a worship by two with souls united.

PRAYER FOR EACH OTHER

A FATHER and a mother willingly pray for a son in danger, a sick daughter, a child in distress. But not so frequently do husbands and wives pray for each other. Yet that would be the way they could most easily obtain the graces necessary to achieve their common desires and fulfill their common mission.

How beautiful it would be if, during their evening prayer together, there could be a pause such as the one for the examination of conscience during which time each would pray silently for the other, recommending to God all the other’s intentions sensed, guessed, and known as well as those that only God the Master of consciences could know.

Even more beautiful would it be if they would receive Holy Communion together frequently so that each of them could speak more intimately to Our Lord about the needs of the other, begging not only temporal but spiritual favors for this cherished soul.

Cana Conferences are becoming more widespread. Here both husband and wife listen to the same discourses, make the same meditations and are called upon to form the same resolutions. They are not expected to make their retreat as two married celibates but as a couple together, to be sanctified conjointly.

They will in their Cana Conferences experience at times no doubt a little sly joy,—quite pardonable to be sure,—at hearing the very things they have been trying to convince their partner of, stressed energetically by a qualified speaker and with every chance of being effective since at such times the soul is more receptive.

They both become compromised in the eyes of the other; neither has any excuse in the future for going off on a tangent.

A further advantage of Cana Conferences is that the couple can more easily advance in holiness if their striving after it is synchronized. In many homes, the wife can manage to slip away for an annual retreat which has become habitual for her while the husband according to his reasoning can never find the time for these periods of recollection. As a consequence there is a sort of spiritual cleavage between them. They do not advance equally with the consequent danger that to one the piety of the other may seem too rigid or too absorbing.

Let the wife, have, if she will, her additional practices of devotion to supplement the couple’s united prayers; if she is intelligently pious they can only serve for the good of the home. But it remains true that her efforts ought to be directed less to surpassing her husband in spiritual exercises than to elevating his spirituality to the heights of her own, assuming that hers is perfectly balanced, warm and vibrant.

Certain timidities must be overcome. At the beginning of married life, the husband will accept everything from his wife. He expects her to surpass him spiritually and above all he expects her to draw him forward. Let her then use her power prudently, intelligently, delicately in virtue of her love. Let her not be motivated by the desire to count her fine successes but to spiritualize her home. Her husband can only be grateful for it. He will welcome her influence, profit by it, follow it.

MARRIAGE AND A LIFE OF PRAYER

IT IS a mistake to think that only priests or religious can attain to a life of profound payer.

A religious priest, the biographer of a young girl of the world who had been an example of magnificent fidelity and the recipient of singular graces from God, recounts that one of the theologians who examined the book expressed great admiration for the young girl. “People believe,” he said, “that the great graces of contemplation are scarcely ever found in the midst of the world. I have found in cloisters and monasteries and among the clergy, souls who have received astonishing graces of light and of ease in prayer. I can therefore speak from experience. However, the two souls who seemed to me to be the most favored were neither priests nor nuns but two persons living in the world, two mothers of families.” He added, “They were far from being complacent about the favors they received; they believed them to be quite natural and never dreamed that they themselves were singularly privileged.”

AND ALL THAT WHILE LIVING IN THE WORLD AS MARRIED WOMEN!

Then we have the example of a doctor, an excellent practitioner in a large city, much in demand because of his great skill and superior knowledge. Note his deep life of prayer as revealed from the following quotations from some of his letters:

“I recollect myself in the course of my professional visits, going from one duty to another, those duties which present themselves to me so clearly as acts of charity to my neighbor in whom I have the impression of ministering to the suffering Christ.

“In the interval which separates one act of charity from another, there spontaneously wells up in my heart irresistible movements of adoration, a necessary worship of praise, a humble and self-abasing offering of my impotence, a very real pain at being separated from the Well-Beloved of my soul, and, in the midst of it all, a consoling peace and a strong leaning on God who lifts me above depressing physical fatigue and wearing privation.”

Another time he wrote:

“The sight of souls so little concerned about God causes me pain and heartache. I should like to see all creatures praise God, concern themselves solely with Him and refer all to Him. I have great difficulty lending myself to the thousand little things of herebelow which have no direct connection with God.”

This interior union with God in no way hindered his exterior ministry. With what soul power did he accomplish it!

“In the midst of overwhelming activities, an impression of profound solitude enfolds my soul. Action is no longer anything more for me than the accomplishment of duty, for the only duty of my life, leaving out of the picture any consideration of this frightful I and accomplishing everything for a single purpose always present, always engulfing me-God.

“One might say that there is substituted for the egoism which is proper to me a power which is foreign to me but which draws me on while exercising over my will a force which impels and which is ever new.”

In his last letter dated August, 1936, we have these thoughts.

“It has pleased God (I should never think of asking Him for it) to grant me six months of immobilization because of a cardiac lesion. A Garden of Gethsemani? Amen.

“I was formerly taught what adoration and thanksgiving mean. Now I am immersed in adoration and thanksgiving. I have been taught that we fulfill the highest apostolate in the place where God for all eternity wants us to be. Therefore, I say three times over Amen and Thank You, my God.”

CHOICE GRACES

PERHAPS on reading the beautiful selections from the doctor’s letters I have somewhat envied his union with God. Perhapsthere arose in my mind the question: “What would I have to do to achieve such close intimacy with God?”

First of all, I must remember that such a degree of union with God is in the domain of gratuitous gifts. Our Lord gives them or does not give them as He sees fit. That is His own concern. In themselves, these gifts are no forecast of sanctity in the person who receives them. Someone can be quite perfect and never receive these favors; a person can be most faithful and attentive but either because of special difficulties of temperament or of capacity or because of God’s permission he will never receive like gifts.

By the very fact that they are gratuitous, they are inherently out of proportion with human efforts. They are liberalities of God that we are powerless to merit in the formal sense of the term. I am walking along the boulevard; I meet several poor persons along the way; I give something to the second not to the first, to the fifth and not to the fourth. To none of them do I owe a thing. I have bestowed a favor pure and simple and no one can lay claim to my bounty as his due.

So too with the special favors we are considering. They manifest the munificence of God and do not prove the holiness of the recipient.

It is evident though that if God is free to bestow extraordinary graces according to His own will, in general, He dispenses them to those who by their generosity have given assurance beforehand that these favors will fall on good ground. If by right they are purely gratuitous, in fact they most often recompense a generosity that is particularly ardent, a devotedness and a striving that has been heroically maintained.

In practice, I should let God play His hand. He is well-versed in what He is doing. I should not presume to dictate to Him the method He should follow. I can play my hand too. His very own specialty is liberality; mine should be generous love. I ought to be bent on giving, not on receiving.

If in the course of my life of striving, God is pleased to give me a keener relish of Him, an understanding of Him beyond my knowledge of His perfections, a love for prayer and for sacrifices He will have free sway in me. I shall praise Him with my whole soul; but it is not to win these favors that I intend to push my fervor to its peak.

If, on the contrary, He lets me on the level of common prayer and the ordinary state of the general run of people; if He even abandons me to a spell of aridity-a common trial of earth-either for periods of time or perhaps permanently, I shall cast myself upon His love and beg Him to insure my faith in Him and to preserve my fidelity. I know what I am worth-not very much.

The soldier ought to serve. If his Captain notices him and puts him on the list for the Legion of Honor, fine! A red ribbon, however, adds nothing to the value of a man. He is worth what he gives and not what he receives.

I shall strive to give much.

********

Nihil Obstat:

JOHN M. A. FEARNS, S.T.D., Censor Librorum

Imprimatur:

+FRANCIS CARDINAL SPELLMAN,

Archbishop of New York

New York, June 19, 1951

The Nihil Obstat and Imprimatur are official declarations that a book or pamphlet is free of doctrinal or moral error. No implication is contained therein that those who have granted the Nihil Obstat and Imprimatur agree with the contents, opinions or statements expressed.

Christ In The Home 3

BY RAOUL PLUS, S.J

A TRANSLATION FROM THE FRENCH

INDEX

TRAINING

THE FIRST YEARS

In his book “Something of Myself for My Friends Known and Unknown,” Rudyard Kipling uses as the keynote for the first chapter, the following quotation: “Give me the first six years of a child’s life; you can have the rest.”

HOW PARENTS OUGHT TO MEDITATE ON THOSE WORDS!

WHY DID RUDYARD KIPLING SPEAK IN THIS VEIN?

Before these first six years there is of course the question of heredity. Every man is an heir and every man is an ancestor. Children do resemble their parents. We have considered this before.

There is a second kind of hereditary influence-the formation that is given even before marriage by the father and the mother. “When does the education of the child begin?” Napoleon was asked. He replied, “Twenty years before its birthin the education of its mother.”

From its mother? From its father too. But the mother is unquestionably a prime influence since until the child is at least six the principal care of the child is in the hands of the mother.

WHAT A MISTAKE TO LET A CHILD GIVE IN TO ALL ITS WHIMS!

“But he doesn’t understand,” people say. “You can’t reason with a baby in the cradle.”

No, of course not, but from the cradle on, the child can be taught many things well. Not by reasoning but by habitformation.

Here are two mothers; both of them have a baby. Naturally both babies cry when they want their desires known. In one case, the mother who knows that all the needs and legitimate wants of the baby have been satisfied, lets it cry; it should like to advance if it could, the time for its bottle. No, it will be served at the right time, not before. The little one soon perceives that no one pays any attention to its demands and ceases its tempestuous howling.

In the other case, the minute the baby begins to cry, the mother dashes to soothe it. She cannot resist her baby’s cry.

Instead of rearing it for itself, she rears it for herself, because she suffers too much from hearing it call or because its tears unnerve and disturb her. She gives in. She is lost. The little one is going to become frightfully capricious. Later she will not be able to control it. “Cry away my little man; you don’t need a thing,” would be a more wholesome attitude than yielding, provided of course, she knows that the baby is all right and that her conduct is not motivated by laziness but by a true desire to train the child.

That is only one detail. But in everything she should be guided by the same principle-the true good of the child. Then at six years it will know how to obey. And if the mother follows through progressively with the development of the child, helping it to use proper]y its young liberty, she has the game in her own hands. All is not finished. It might be more correct to say that all is beginning; nevertheless the mother has successfully come through a vital stage. Up to this point it is properly called training, a most necessary period indeed. This training will develop into real education. If the early training has been lacking, the succeeding education becomes almost impossible; for how can one erect a stable structure on a volcano; how build a firm will on a nature perpetually wavering and swayed by caprice?

Kipling was right. In the light of the truth he expressed let me correct, if necessary and if there is still time, my method of acting.

LOVE FOR CHILDREN

IT IS essential to love children enough: 1. To be willing to have them

2. To be able to endure their demands 3. To be able to supernaturalize one’s love for them.

1. To be willing to have them: I meditated on this point when I considered the law of fecundity and charity in marriage.

2. To be able to endure their demands: Very little children have no defense and no power. Someone must always come to their assistance. Happy those who can guess these needs of theirs. Mothers generally know the secret of that.

But just the same the baby will cry, become restless and set up a howl. Every baby in the cradle is a revolutionary in the bud; the best established customs ought to give way to its caprice, or so it thinks, and if its desires are not obeyed, it storms and puts the house in an uproar.

Furthermore the child is born cunning. It finds out very quickly the best ways to get what it wants, not through reasoning but by intuition. Such an action, such an attitude produces the desired result; the opposite way of acting does not work. There is no more limpid logic to be found anywhere.

Nor any more transparent pride. It knows itself to be the center of the household and is not ashamed to act the part. It is a monarch. Papa and mamma, brothers, sisters, and all the other members of the household make up its court, each one dancing attendance to its thirty-six wills. Furthermore, it distributes as rewards the favor of its broad smiles.

Later it will have to play, jump about and run; to break things will be a delight; so too will it be fun just to sit still and listen to a story. The little girl will be taken up with the care of her doll and if her elders have bought her a doll that says papa, mamma, they need expect to hear nothing else all day! The little boy will play soldier or train or if he has received a drum or whistle for Christmas, the household will be well aware of it!

Parents should take serenely and as a matter of course the baby’s pranks and outbursts, working at the same time toward a wise training, the prelude of a wise education. They should expect their growing children to make noise, to be curious, to want to touch everything; furthermore, they need not feel obliged constantly, to put a damper on their romping and their noise; whenever and wherever it is necessary they ought to explain to the children what they may do and what they ought to avoid.

3. To be able to supernaturalize one’s love for them: Parents should strive to love their children not only because of their natural charm but for higher and truly divine reasons. “I love my children so much,” parents say as if they were vying with one another; mothers especially are likely to talk like that. It makes one want to warn them, “If only you could love them a little less but love them a little better.” Or rather, since we never love too much but badly, “Love them as much as you wish but for their sakes, not for your own.”

For their sakes: Therefore do not give in to all their caprices; do not try to spare them every effort; do not treat them as little idols; do not teach them pride and vanity even from their earliest years.

For their sakes: Therefore be alert to know what might harm them not only in what concerns their body but also in what might even remotely concern their soul.

For their sakes: Therefore, try to discover behind the human silhouette of each of these baptized souls the Holy Trinity dwelling within them and the likeness of Christ; do not rest satisfied until all your training and education is directed to make of them truly holy tabernacles of the Most High and authentic continuations of Christ.

FROM THREE TO FIVE

AT THIS period of their life, children have not in general arrived at an awakening, at least not a complete awakening, of their moral sense. They are midway between the unawareness of their first years and a completely rational contact with life; their principal occupation is play-the little boy will be busy building and tearing down; the little girl will be busy scribbling away at indefinite designs or dressing and undressing her sawdust doll, the first in a series of many dolls.

They will have just the beginning of a contact-depending upon their family, their mother particularly-with the invisible world. They will learn their prayers, know that there is a God who is good and they will hear about little Jesus. They will also know that there are things that are forbidden, but they will not as yet see the wickedness of sin; they take what belongs to mamma without knowing that they are stealing; they do not always tell the truth without knowing really that it is an evil thing to lie and when they do speak untruly it is much more through an instinct of selfdefense than through innate perversion. They would go to the end of the world for a kiss and much further still for a piece of candy. But if they must give up the piece of candy to a little brother or sister, they will do it with not too bad a grace but they will see to it that they get a lick of it themselves before parting with it; after all, aren’t they being quite generous already? And if for Christmas mother has suggested that they sacrifice some of their sweets to little Jesus, they do it eagerly but see nothing wrong with coming back quietly later to eat up their sacrifices.

It is important to capitalizeon this marvelous period of the child’s life.

Since the child loves to imagine, it is necessary to suggest images to its mind and since the child needs to be educated, these images should be elevating. That can be done very early by using the lives of the saints, the life of Mary and of Jesus. Why not? How many details of Scripture are most picturesque and quite within the grasp of the child’s mind; this is especially true if the Gospel episodes have first come by way of the mother’s heart; she will know how to awaken without straining, instruct without fatiguing, and adapt it all to the mentality of the child.

A prime guiding principle here is Never anything inexact! Children at this age are extremely docile. “Papa said it or Mamma said it,” makes it sacred. Therefore, great attention to the stories they are told, to the allusions made or the conversations held in their presence.

At this age the child is inclined to refer everything to itself, but very likely to be disinterested in goodness. By nature it is selfish; it has a terrific sense of ownership; will share nothing; wants everything. Since it has numerous needs and knows itself to be little, it seeks to surround itself with the greatest possible number of things to its own advantage. But if little by little it is taught to look about to see that there are others less privileged, that to give up things for love of another is something fine, it will be found capable of remarkable generosity.

The child at this age has not since the time of its baptism become incrusted with the shell of negligence and the faults an adult might commit; simplicity is inherent in it; it is pure; it has infused Faith and the Holy Spirit in its soul is at ease.

But it is essential to avoid scandalizing the least of these little ones, giving them the example of evil, of impurity even material impurity, of lying, of anger.

Further, the child is readily distracted, forgetful, has its head in the clouds. You speak to it and it listens or does not listen as fancy strikes; it follows its own thought and interior emotion. Your commands fall on its ears like water on marble. You must catch its attention, reiterate your suggestions or commands without impatience on your part or fatigue for the child.

Constant attention is necessary to train them in manners, in proper sleeping habits, in conduct at table; to check the first symptoms of greediness, laziness, lack of discipline, sensuality. The child is still thoughtless but the educator must not be. Long explanations are not needed; a word, simple look go a long way and speak volumes at times.

Parents should never lose courage even if the results are imperfect. Let them examine their methods and change them if necessary. Let them see in these little ones only Christ—“Whatsoever you do to these, the least of My brethren, you do unto Me.”

THE ART OF GIVING CHILDREN FAULTS

THERE are two great means of developing faults in children:

First by giving them a bad example; second, by spoiling them.

1. Giving them a bad example: All men are imitators; children are more exposed than others to the appeal of imitation; they love to imitate adults, and by preference those within their immediate circle particularly their parents who appear to them as exceptional beings in whom there is nothing reprehensible.

Is the mother vain? The daughter too will be vain; she will speak, act, dress, not for an ideal of beauty in keeping with her condition, her station, but for the favorable opinion of others. She will strive to surpass all her companions, her friends, by the cut of her clothes and the extremes of style; she will attach a considerable, yes even an exaggerated, importance to the tiniest details of her costume; she will suffer a severe attack of jealousy when she believes someone outshines her.

Is the father proud? Does he try to exaggerate his good points and belittle those of others or refuse to recognize them? His son will be a snob, disdainful of others, self-sufficient, pretentious, arrogant, obstinate and will manifest no understanding whatever as far as others are concerned.

Are the parents loquacious? Contentious? Sharp in their speech? Their children will be intemperate in speech, quarrelsome, envious.

Are the parents deceitful? The children are in danger of becoming liars. Are the parents generally indiscreet in conversation, passing judgments thoughtlessly? The children already too much inclined to judge everything from the height of their grandeur will pass snap judgments, unjust and untimely criticisms.

Do the parents manifest their love of ease, of wealth, even a thirst to acquire riches by any means? The children are likely to be selfish, attached to their own comfort, cheaters on occasion.

2. Spoiling them: Some parents are too harsh and do not encourage their children at all. Others, by far the greater number, are too indulgent, flatter their children, satisfy all their whims.

Parents who spoil their children do not seek their good, love them for their sakes. No, it is a form of self-love; the parents seek themselves in the child. Such parents cannot put firmness into the education they try to give; they cannot punish when necessary; prevent escapades; secure obedience; they cannot defend themselves against any caprices.

“But if I lack kindness,” you say, “my child will withdraw from me; in diff icult times he will avoid speaking to me; I shall not have his confidence. If on the contrary I have multiplied my kindnesses to him, he will remain open, I shall keep a hold on him.”

There is no question here of failing in kindness; it is a question of forbidding oneself any weakness. Far from having to fear the loss of the child’s confidence, if one is judiciously firm, the parents shall win the child’s confidence because they are wisely strong. When the children understand that in the marks of affection their parents bestow on them they are not seeking something personal but only the good of their children, they will be quick to realize that in the severity their parents inflict on them, there is likewise no trace of caprice but only the desire for their good as before.

It is precisely that realization which has educative force-this contact with strong and detached souls.

THE UNTIMELY LAUGH

A FAMOUS French critic relates this incident about one of his colleagues. “He was only five years old and he had committed some misdemeanor. His mother who was busy painting put him outside her studio as a penance and closed the door to him. Through the closed door the little fellow using his most earnest and pleading tone begged for pardon promising not to be naughty again. His mother did not answer. He made so much ado that she opened the door and on his knees he crawled toward her, pleading with her as he came, in a voice so earnest and an attitude so pathetic that by the time he arrived before her, she could not refrain from laughing. Immediately he stood up and changed his tone, “So,” he cried, “since you are making fun of me, I will never ask pardon again.” And he never did.”

To appear amused at an act of generosity on the part of a child is the best way to make it lose forever a taste for generosity. Beyond a doubt, the mother was not laughing at the sentiment that stirred the soul of her child, but only at his heroics in expressing it. But the child could not distinguish. She laughed; therefore she laughed at him; if she laughed at him, he must have seemed ridiculous; never again would be put himself in a ridiculous attitude. His little conscience is geometrical. His reasoning is utterly simple but it is in keeping with his age.

Can anyone ever measure how much a poor child who has done wrong has to overcome himself in order to ask pardon? He blunders and then what happens? Can’t you see? He is wounded by the pain he gave his parents, tortured perhaps by remorse, frightened by the prospect of punishment. His request for pardon is expressed in sobs and long drawn out breaths. But he is truly sorry. Born actor that he is, it is possible that he might deliberately exaggerate the outward manifestation of his repentence, but is it true? Most often the child is honest and except where there is direct proof to the contrary, his action is sincere, expressing exactly what he feels.

How disconcerted he is then when his repentence is met in a way he so little expected and so misunderstood. Sometimes the child merely wants to confide a secret or in his simplicity he asks a question without realizing its import or he expresses an enthusiasm he hopes to have shared or a desire to be generous that he longs to have approved, but if he sees that no one listens to him or that his elders appear to smile at his beautiful dreams or his requests for explanations, he learns to close up like a clam; no one will ever know anything more of his little soul; he will keep his thoughts secret and will try to find for himself the answers to the troubling questions that torment him.

There is another kind of ill-timed laugh, the laugh of parents or others at the morally bad actions of a child.

In considering the behavior of children, careful distinction must be made between two kinds of acts: those which have no moral import such as skinning their knees in a fall while running, soiling their clothing through inattention, turning over an inkbottle through clumsiness, and those which do have moral significance such as stealing, lying, disobedience and lack of respect.

It sometimes happens that people are extremely severe and make much ado over the acts in which no moral responsibility is involved, but they joke or laugh at words and acts that are morally wrong. Nothing so deforms the consciences of children. They learn to consider as serious acts those over which their elders have made a scene but which actually are not serious at all; to consider as insignificant those acts which made others smile but which are morally quite serious.

All this means that as a parent, as an educator, I must be watchful over my smiles and my laughter. I cannot be inopportune in their use.

LOVE VERSUS MATERNAL INSTINCT

A MOTHER of a family, herself a noble and spiritual educator wrote:

“We never succeed in making of our children all that we should like to make of them; and sometimes we do not accomplish anything of what we thought we could accomplish. The role of educator in theory offers many charms but in its fulfillment how many thorns! Not to become discouraged is in itselfquite an achievement.” The most important virtue to engender in the souls of children is confidence.

Children always have faults; they develop with age; when one fault is destroyed, another appears. What ought to be developed first is confidence; a confidence which will make them docile solely because of the conviction that there can be nothing better for them than the arrangements of the persons who are training them; but when they seem to torment them or cross them, they truly have their good at heart. The most agreeable training is not always the most salutary. Far from it! Adversity and contradiction are useful for all ages but particularly for the young, to correct their violent tendencies and strengthen their undeveloped wills. For those who considereverything from God’s viewpoint, adversity gives the final touch; it adorns as with gold one in whom virtue is deeply rooted. But how can one call upon this harsh instructor to teach one’s very own children? Mothers are too tender to be perfect educators or rather their tenderness has about it too much sensitivity which, we might say, aggravates the eternal conflict between the spiritual man and the carnal man. Maternal love is often too much hampered by maternal instinct which protests and prevents the forceful action that ought to be taken.

This distinction between real maternal love in the full sense of the word and maternal instinct should be maintained; the author of the preceding lines is alert to the difference and concerned about not confusing them; one of her daughters had a particularly difficult temperament; the mother encouraged herself to exercise the necessary firmness with her just as with her other children:

I shall set myself the duty of not being weak, too easy, of not giving in to all their desires. I shall try to give them the reason for my decisions, but I shall believe that I do them a service by putting some obstacles to their desires. Kindness will dictate my conduct; I hope that kindness will render it bearable for them.

If I fear the opposition of a strong character and the tendencies of a spirit which promises to be frank and curious in Laurence, I fear in her sister the faults arising from an easier temperament which is avid for praise. Will she be able to hold her own with the firmness I should like to see her acquire? My God, I cannot foresee that; I place her interests as I place my own into Your Hands.

That is the way to act: To try to adopt toward each child the method most likely to succeed, and when that is done, to trust the rest to Divine Providence.

TRAINING IN OBEDIENCE

THE father is the father; the mother is the mother. Each one’s role is different; together they must harmonize. This is particularly essential when there is question of the exercise of authority over the children. The principal authority is centered in the father; the mother who is associated with him, shares this authority. Both have therefore according to their respective roles the mission to command; the father in a way that is not more harsh but more virile; the mother in a way that is not more easy-going-she ought to demand the same things the father requires and with the same firmness-but more gently expressed.

Parental action must be common, harmonious, coordinated, directed to the same end. Extremely unpleasant conditions are created if the mother for example tolerates an infraction of an order given by the father.

The father on his part should avoid too great sternness, an uncalled-for severity of tone or what is worse, cruelty. The mother should guard against weakness and insufficient resistance to the tears of the child or the cute little ways it has discovered for avoiding punishment or side-tracking a command.

She ought to be particularly cautious not to undermine paternal authority either by permitting the children to disobey his injunctions or, under pretext of tempering the father’s severity, by countermanding his orders. It is from the father himself that she should secure the necessary relaxation of requirements if she feels he is being too rigid; never should she on her own change a decision that the father has given. Otherwise the children will soon play the father and mother against each other; they will know that they can have recourse to mamma when papa commands something and they will be able to disregard the order. Father and mother both lose their authority in this way to their own great detriment. The wife discredits her husband in the eyes of the children and herself as well. Never should the children sense the least discord between their parents either in regard to their principles or their methods of training. Quick to exploit the rift, they will also be quick to get the upper hand. It is the ruination of obedience. The mother can blame herself for working forcefully for its destruction.

She is perfectly justified in trying to make the execution of the father’s orders more agreeable; that is quite another thing. But in this case she must justify the conduct of the father and not seem to blame him by softening the verdict.

Husband and wife are but one; he, the strength; she, the gentleness. The result is not an opposition of forces but a conjoining of forces; the formation of a single collective being, the couple.

Another point in this matter of obedience: Never let the children command the parents. How many parents, mothers especially, betray their mission! Parents are not supposed to give orders indiscriminately but wisely; when they have done this, they should not go back on a command. To command little is the mark of firm authority; but to demand the execution of what one has commanded is the mark of a strong authority.

There should be no fussiness, no irritation, only calm firmness. The child, who becomes unnerved, and certainly not without cause, before a multiplicity of disconnected orders that fall upon him from all sides, submits before a gentle and unbending authority. Calmness steadies him and unyielding firmness unfailingly leads him to obey.

CHILDREN WHO COMMAND

IF THE training of the children from babyhood has been well done, there is the happy possibility that the parents can really be masters in their own home later on. Not that they need to exercise a fierce militarism; they should rather inspire a holy and joyous liberty; but when they give a command, the children must know that there is nothing for them to do but obey.

They will give few commands, avoiding such perpetual admonitions as “Stand up straight! Don’t slouch! Do this. Don’t do that,” which irritate children to a supreme degree, weaken authority, and in time nullify the effect of any effort to command. In the whirlwind of commands and prohibitions in which they are caught, children can no longer distinguish between important issues and details. Not having the strength to observe all the directions they receive, they decide quite practically to observe none except when a painful punishment impresses them with the need to obey.

Although the parents should give few commands, they must abide by what they have commanded and see it through. If children note that it is easy for them to wear out the patience of those who issue commands or prohibitions, and that sooner or later they will have the victory, they will unconsciously or even through a perversity that will always increase, set about to manoeuvre more and more triumphs for themselves.

“Leave that door handle alone!” Fine. The child hears the command. A second later he is at the handle again. Again he is told to leave it alone. The child resigns himself and for some time does not go near the door. Will he make a third attempt? Why not? After the second injunction mamma generally says no more. As a matter of fact, he renews his disobedience. Mamma lets it pass. She is conquered.

She will be conquered forever.

That is just one example of ten thousand where training falls short.

But when children know that what is said goes, the temptation to defy a command does not so readily come to them; or if should it come and they yield, they know their parents will not let their disobedience pass and that they will pay the penalty; they know too that the punishment will be in proportion to the offense, neither too little or too much but exactly proportionate; they take it for granted.

Away with all fussiness however! Let children exercise some initiative. How many parents forget that they were once young and as a consequence what it means to be young.

In his book “My Children and I,” Jerome criticizes in a humorous fashion the exaggerated notions of some parents who do not want to recognize the power for frankness in boys and girls of twelve, fourteen or sixteen years. Veronica, one of the young daughters of the home, finding that the discipline of the house was too rigid protested with the comment, “If grown-ups would be willing to listen, there are many things we could explain to them.”

She decided to write a book in which she would give parents some wise advice. “All children will buy it,” she said, “as a birthday gift for their father and mother.”

Veronica was doubtless somewhat presumptuous but not stupid. People can learn at any age.

Even from their children.

Even when their youthful lessons are developed from impertinence.

It is better, of course, not to need their lessons.

TRAINING IN DOCILITY

MANY parents complain that they can no longer get their children to obey.

Is it the fault of the children? Is it not rather the fault of the parents? A failure in obedience because of a failure in authority?

To command requires as much abnegation as to obey. If a person commands to satisfy his need of imposing himself on others, to satisfy his vanity, to prove his power to himself, he has missed the purpose of authority. Authority does not exist for itself but for the good of subordinates.

Parents can go to the other extreme and let their children to their whims and fancies in order to escape imposing any inconvenience upon themselves, allowing everything to pass and even refusing to forbid what they should forbid. That too is a failure in their mission. To have authority is to have the obligation to exercise it-according to the circumstances and without exaggeration certainly-but it must be exercised and not held in abeyance; that would be a betrayal of a trust.

Authority is to be exercised; to be exercised within the limits of its control; that is its function. If through laziness or poor judgment authority is not exercised or is badly exercised, how can we be astonished that obedience is lost?

Authority supposes a soul at peace, a courageous soul, dominated by a sense of duty, devoted to the interests of the subject, free of capricious impulses and that sentimental concept of love which is often found in mothers who confuse tenderness with idolatry.

Parents and educators must arm themselves with courage to dare to take a stand against the caprices of their child. They must have keen judgment to know in which instances they should command or refrain from commanding, to be able to adapt the order to the capacity of the subjects, to be able to understand the subjects” desires and satisfy them, to oppose their whims, their impetuous desires and disordered impulses.

In all this there must not be the shadow of oppression. Parents should realize the children’s need for distractions, activity, learning, and loving. They ought to satisfy them in everything that is legitimate. That will provide a gener ous principle by which they can refuse them what is not legitimate. In everything the parents should act with a balanced mixture of gentleness and firmness.

Certainly they should not govern their children in a way that suppresses their initiative. Their problem is not to develop paragons of perfection, children who are exteriorly docile but docile through passivity.

Parents should as often as possible insist that their children make their own decisions, assume their little or great responsibilities; but at the same time supervise and watch over them unobtrusively; be ready to help them if need be when they hesitate or arrive at imprudent decisions.

This implies that the parents strive less to develop a satisfactory exterior behavior than to fashion in the child a conscience that is exact and clear in the knowledge of its duties; it is essential that when a child obeys he does so not because of external constraint but through obedience to the law of duty, to the inward law formulated in the depths of his soul by God Himself.

The formation of the child’s conscience is therefore inseparable from his training in obedience. Let the child know that he must obey only because he must above all obey God; parents and educators are only the intermediaries of God in his regard. Punishments which must follow wrongdoing will never be for him the indication of his parents” excitability or moods but always and only the justification of a moral principle that has been violated.

INTELLIGENCE AND FIRMNESS IN A MOTHER

CAN the mothers who are real educators be counted by the hundreds? Many see what ought to be done but do not have the courage to require it or rather to impose it on themselves to see it through. Others again have sufficient firmness of character but lack keenness, insight, psychology.

Madame Marbeau whose son was to become bishop of Meaux possessed the rare balance of intelligence and firmness.

One of the brothers of the future bishop had been naughty and troublesome at school and was sent home by way of punishment. At home he was obliged to recount his escapade. The child was difficult and it was not his first offense. Madame Marbeau marched him up to his room, closed the door behind them, took a switch and ordered the boy to take off his coat and a few more things. “My child,” she said, “you are dishonoring your name. I am going to whip you for it so that you won’t forget it. It grieves me to do so. I have a heart ailment and could die of emotion . . . at least my death would remind you not to offend God.”

When her children were old enough to be able to take responsibility, Madame Marbeau gave each of them a watch, accompanying her gift with the wish “May all the hours of your life to the very last, mark the good you do. May you never have to blush for one of them.”

She encouraged the older ones to offer sacrifices to bring blessings on their future home, “Offer that up for the one whom you will marry.”

A mother ought to be willing to make her child shed tears if that is the only way to instill a lesson which other means have failed to inculcate.

Surely, the whole art of educating does not consist in the art of being severe; some parents are too stern and they create a depressing and disheartening atmosphere in the home; that is the other extreme of indulgence. Exaggerated repression and excessive weakness are both harmful. The one who must be most watchful against excessive weakness is the mother, to whom is attributed the quality of kindness as an almost natural instinct and whose whole vocation is bound up in kindness. In their early days the children will be tramping all over her feet, but when they grow older they will trample on her heart.

The child should be encouraged to the complete accomplishment of his duty; nor should the parents take over to spare him the necessity of effort; they should rather stimulate him to furnish his own effort. He should be given a taste for fundamental honesty very early in life, the understanding that time is money advanced to us by God to enable us to purchase not only our eternity but the grandeur and beauty of our present life.

Then at the opportune time the child should be directed to consider his future. After making of his present home an invaluable training center, let the mother use the thought of the future home he will establish as an incentive to needful renunciation and self-denial. Should a son or daughter give indications of a special attraction to the virginal state in a consecrated life, with what care should the mother watch over them. What a grace for the family if their dreams should be realized! But such graces are bought! By the sacrifices of the children. By the sacrifices of the parents above all, but primarily of the mother.

These are not the only characteristics of a solid training but they are important characteristics. Let me examine myself on them. What judgment must I pass on myself?

PICTURE STUDY

MOTHER has gathered her little world around the table. She has chosen a supply of beautiful pictures; there are all sorts of them.

“Now suppose everyone keeps still. Look well at these pictures and make your choice without telling it . . . Then in a few minutes you may each tell me in your turn which one you prefer. If you explain well why you prefer it you may have it to keep for yourself. All right, let’s start. Is everyone here? Take time to think carefully. When you have all made your choice we shall begin to speak.”

Soon little hands were busy fingering the pictures; indecision was evident on the children’s faces. Finally their choices seemed to be settled.

“Very well, Peter, you begin.”

Peter had been attracted by a troop of soldiers marching behind the red, white and blue:

“Because it has the flag of my country,” he said.

What a beautiful lesson to develop, the lesson of patriotism, a lesson in humanity. Why should we love the world; why too should we prefer our own country? We should prefer it to the point of defending it if it is unjustly attacked. What is a just war, an unjust war? Is it sometimes permissible to kill? What is the duty of the leaders in war? Why should we salute the flag?

And all listen to the simple lesson so marvelously and expertly explained drawing great profit from it. A true course it is in philosophy, civics, international ethics, and will-training.

Little Louise decided on a picture of a beautiful baby by Reynolds, a pink, chubby baby with curly hair. She gives her reason in a tone of voice that reveals her budding maternal instinct, “I want it because it looks like my little brother.”

And Mother seizes her opportunity to explain the mother’s role, her joys, her difficulties, her responsibilities.

Jeanne, a robust girl, not blessed with much imagination shows great admiration for a very ordinary postcard representing two children in the country, standing before a rustic home at an outdoor fireplace roasting potatoes and chestnuts . . . She chose it because “it shows what we do on vacation when we have no more homework to do.”

This brings forth a little homily on energy at work, coupled with praise for the honesty of the child; the motive of choice alone is blamed as indicative of no great zeal for study.

Paul, whose stuffed pockets seem to contain a whole workshop-string, broken springs, rubber bands and other odds and ends has been waiting a long time to explain his choice: “I like this airplane which is going to take off; see the pilot has put on his cap; he is going to take two passengers. I want to be a pilot when I get big . . .”

How many correct ideas to develop, enlarge and enrich; how many inferior sentiments to uplift; how many social principles to instill according to the capacity of these little minds and consciences so newly formed; how many futures to map out and how many vistas to open up.

There is nothing austere or forbidding here. It is life presented in beautiful simplicity. All the mother’s explanations are within the children’s grasp, but how richly instructive and informative! They had so much fun. And they learned so much.

IMPARTIALITY

ONE great principle of education that is of prime importance is that there must not be two systems of weights and two systems of measures in the family; it is necessary to treat all the children impartially.

The celebrated Carmelite, Mary of Agreda, whom Phillip IV of Spain did not hesitate to take as his confidante and advisor in matters of state and the government of men because of her spiritual insight and virtue, wrote the following advice to him on October 13, 1643 after she realized, either through spiritual lights or human reports, that he was inclined to yield to the ascendancy of a certain individual in his court:

“It would be better to put all (your counsellors) on the same level by listening to all of them so that each one believes himself to be your favorite without Your Majesty’s according more to one than to the other. Thus God has placed the heart in the center of the body that it may vivify and stimulate all the members equally; the same sun lights us all without any distinctions.”

This rule which Mary of Agreda gave Phillip IV for the government of Spain is very valuable within the family.

One or other of the children must not get the idea he is preferred; he will be tempted to abuse the situation. Above all, the other children must have no cause to believe that one of the members of the family is the object of special predilection.

All ought to believe that they are, each of them individually, the privileged one; and that because actually and not as a pretense the father and mother make no distinctions of person but give to all their maximum love.

If any exception must be made let it be for that one who is least gifted, the most sickly, who has the least defense. In such a case only will the other children pardon partiality.

Generally, however, such advice need not be given to mothers. As Bishop Dupanloup explains, maternal love is so wide and deep that there is in it an innate and magnificent contradiction.

If her child is beautiful, richly endowed, how the mother cherishes it! If on the contrary, her child is puny, deformed by nature, she has treasures of affection for it such as she has for no other.

Here is the beautiful passage. It is taken from a volume which has not gone out of date; how many married people and parents could profit greatly by reading it and meditating on it: The name of the book is “Letters of Direction on Christian Life” and the particular sections referred to now are the passages on Marriage, Motherhood and Conjugal Fidelity:

“Maternal love possesses two contrary impulses which are characteristic of it. We could not measure either of them, nor could we pass them by in silence.

The mother loves her fortunate child, the handsome child, the prosperous child, for its happiness, its beauty, its prosperity; there is in this a just pride which belongs to maternal love and does not sully it. At the same time, the mother loves her child who suffers, who is listless, who is deformed because of its suffering, its languor, its deformity; and her love goes to terrifying extremes.

One must see a mother looking at her infirm and deformed child . . . It is as if she wants to fill up all the voids of that being, that she wants to enclose it within herself so that curious and unkind looks cannot reach it.

If she has a wayward child, it is this one she loves in spite of herself; if she has a sick child, it is toward that one she directs all her concern, and on the contrary should her child be a hero . . . how happy she is!

DIFFICULTIES OF CHRISTIAN EDUCATION

IN ORDER to make a true Christian of a child, four difficulties must be conquered:

1. The child himself.-He is light-minded, superficial, completely exterior. The invisible world seems unreal to him. Doubtless, the infused faith received at baptism gives him a kind of aptitude for perceiving divine realities; and the educator will not fail to utilize and develop this aptitude. It still remains true that the child for whom the world of images alone has value is in grave danger of progressively losing interest in the Kingdom of God to give more and more attention to what Our Lord calls all these other things.

Furthermore, he is on the threshold of life and that life is the present life; he feels strong; death is far away. His very existence appears to him as something almost eternal. He dreams of marriage, thinks of a career and is immersed in distractions. He thinks very little about his soul if he thinks of it at all.

2. The family circle.-The family encircles the child with a certain general atmosphere of ease, of comfort, of forgetfulness of the essential. The practice of Christianity within the family may be very weak; there may be a complete absence of good example. An exaggerated liberty in regard to reading may prevail; the newspapers and magazines brought into the family are perhaps most unchristian, utterly pagan in tone. And as for the religious observance of Sunday, it is reduced to a minimum and that minimum is merely routine. True piety is definitely lacking; so too is any semblance of regularity in rising and retiring; a shameless preoccupation with frivolities crowds out everything else. The development of a spirit of sacrifice and the formation of a religious spirit receives scarcely any attention.

3. Schools.-Let us consider only those schools in which religion is recognized. To whom is the religious instruction confided? How well is education to the supernatural safeguarded? Even in institutions where exercises of piety are held in esteem, is sufficient effort made to combat routine, to avoid blind imitation and to vivify religious practices? Is sufficient care taken to explain doctrine thoroughly? Is not a great deal of precious time lost in problems of apologetics while the children have very little acquaintance with the substantial realities of the deposit of faith? Is the teaching of Catechism carefully centered about the dogma of Grace and of Incorporation in Christ? Are the truths of faith made to live by being presented in relation to modern life, adapted to the needs of the young people and the needs of the time?

4. The general easygoing attitude of society.-Father Gratry used to say that young people had difficulty escaping the two trials that their social environment imposes-the trial of fire and the trial of light.

The trial of fire. By that Father Gratry meant the test of pleasure, the test of the senses. The great means of information are sometimes transformed into means of corruption. Reading, unbridled freedom, certain types of amusement finish the destruction. The world ridicules the chaste; materialism at times gross, at times refined, threatens to penetrate all of life especially now that the constraints of the war have been lifted.

The test of light. This, Father Gratry explains, is contact with pagan mentalities, with philosophies of scepticism and agnosticism as noisy as they are baseless but none the less alluring in an age of independence and awakening passions.

All these conditions point to the importance of a virile training of the individual from childhood; the need of a healthy and uplifting family life; the value of a solid intellectual formation that is thoroughly Christian; the necessity of a purification of the general atmosphere.

The children of today have been compared to “an invasion of little barbarians.” We must civilize these barbarians if we want to prevent the arrival of barbarism or a return to barbarism.

SUPERNATURAL MOTHERS

CHESTERTON expressed himself as well satisfied that education is entirely confided to women until that time when to educate becomes entirely useless-for, “a child is not sent to school to be instructed until it is too late to teach him anything.”

In other words, education depends on the training given during baby days and early childhood and such training is the concern of women. That is a certain fact. It is also a serious fact. Because at once there arises the problem: Are all mothers charged with educating their children capable of it?

Some women excel in child-training. And often they are equally successful in handling their children once they are grown.

How solicitously these mothers watch over their children even in their babyhood not only in concern for their bodily good but for their soul as well, warding off from them whatever could be a source of trouble later. With what love of God they profit by their babies” first glimmerings of reason to teach them how to fold their hands in prayer and lift their hearts to God. How zealously they prepare them for their First Holy Communion, speaking to them of the marvels of the Eucharist, encouraging them to generosity and love of Jesus Crucified.

Without any thought of self, but with joyful and supernatural austerity, they teach their children to make sacrifices, to think of others; with what divinely inspired skill they show them the immense needs of the world, make them think of little pagan children who have no Christian mother or father or brothers or sisters who have been baptized.

“Children are serious-minded, and to keep a childlike soul means precisely to continue to look at life with a serious attitude,” says Joergensen. Mothers with a supernatural spirit, whether they have read Joergensen or not, seem to use this idea as a guiding principle and by it help their children to preserve while growing up, the juvenile depth of their serious outlook on life.

Even when their children are grown, how they help them to develop this serious attitude and protect them from losing it or submerging it in an atmosphere of worldliness and frivolity! How earnestly they try to give their children true Christianity grounded much more in love than in fear; they do not constantly terrify them with the idea of sin; they lead them even more by example than by word, to look upon God as a God of mercy and not as a sort of “super- parent who is always dissatisfied, severe, angry, ready to forbid and to punish.”

Living a life of divine familiarity themselves, these mothers have learned the great mystery of “God nearby,” of God residing in the depths of the soul in grace, a God whose dearest wish is to draw us into closer intimacy with Himself.

It has been said that “there are two ways of giving the consciences of children an intense sense of the privation of God”; either by default, by never putting them in His presence; or by excess, by putting them in His presence in such a way that He becomes a nightmare to them from which they flee as soon as they realize that the whirl of life helps them not to think of Him.”

Supernatural-minded mothers would never fail in the second way. If their grown boys and girls remain in the state of grace, it is through a holy pride, an interior joy, the result of having been impregnated early in life with the conviction of God’s nearness, with the determination to remain forever living tabernacles of the Trinity, other Christs.

Honor to these mothers, true educators!

EDUCATION TO THE SUPERNATURAL (1)

THIS does not mean education to piety. In Christian families this is properly provided for: The children are taught their prayers, how to go to Confession, how to prepare for Holy Communion, how to assist at Holy Mass and other church services, how to say the rosary. All this is fine, but perhaps it is not the essential!

The important thing is to teach the child who he is, who God is, and how God wants to mingle His life with his by coming to dwell in him. consecrating him thereby as a living tabernacle of the Most High. When the child knows all this not merely as bookish knowledge but as knowledge lived out and often recalled, exercised by his faith and his young good will, then and then only, will there be a solid foundation on which to build religious instruction, to justify and demand exercises of piety. It is absolutely essential that before all else the child be informed of the divine riches which his baptism brought him. It must be explained to him that the day he was carried as a little baby to be received into the Church, God came to take possession of his soul.

He should be taught that when people come into the world they do not possess this divine life. God gave it to Adam and Eve in the beginning but they lost it. Right here is a splendid opportunity to explain the greatness and goodness of God, the marvel of our supernatural life, how God created man greater than nature, how He wanted to make all of us His children. The little one knows well what a father is. Explain to him that God is our Father in order to give him what is essential in all true piety, a filial spirit and an understanding of how true it is to call God, Good.

The story of creation fascinates children; so too does the story of Adam and Eve and the Fall. What a lesson for the child is the example of the terrible punishment incurred by disobedience! . . . The divine life is lost! But God still loves His poor human creatures just as mamma and papa continue to love their child after he has done wrong. And what is God going to do to give back this lost supernatural life? When one commits a fault, he must make up for it to obtain pardon. Who can make up for such a fault? God asks His own Son to do it. His Son will come down to earth. And then follows the beautiful story of the Christmas Crib and the timely application of these truths: How we should pity those who do evil and if we can, help them get out of their misery, their bodily and spiritual wretchedness!

Not only will Jesus live upon earth with us but He will die for us after living more than thirty years over in a little country where we can find many souvenirs of His stay-the little town of His birth, the workshop of His foster-father, that noble carpenter named Joseph, the villages that heard Him preach to all, and especially to children, on how to get to heaven, the place of His death upon the Cross, that place of suffering where Mary His Mother stood beneath His instrument of torture . . . All that, all that so that John, Paul, James, Henry, Peter, Louise, Camille, Leonie, Germaine may be even while they are still on earth, little-and yes very great-living tabernacles of God who is Goodness itself; so that later in heaven they may be with the God of their hearts forever.

Religious instruction is not sufficiently centered; it is not centered about the central mystery of Catholicism. Even the catechism with its divisions of Dogma, Morals and the Sacraments-divisions that are perfectly logical and understandable but more adapted to theological authors than to the souls of children-can, if we are not careful, make one forget the beautiful wholeness of Christianity which is superbly majestic in its architectural lines, clear, and pulsing with life.

EDUCATION TO THE SUPERNATURAL (2)

IT IS clear that everything centers about the dogma of grace and our supernatural elevation. The best way to develop this idea with the child is to use the technique of an object lesson and explain the rites and ceremonies of baptism to him. That will be a little drama in which he has been the hero, and consequently, it will hold tremendous interest for him. It is something about himself, it is his own story he hears; he will be delighted.

Describe the ceremonies graphically for the little one. As soon as feasible, take him to church. Before showing him the tabernacle, the Eucharistic dwelling, take him to the baptismal font: Here is where you became a living tabernacle of God. At the words of the priest, “Go out of this child, unclean spirit; give place to the Holy Spirit,” the devil was forced to leave you, because of the power Our Lord gave to His priests. Then the Holy Spirit came to dwell in you. And since the Holy Spirit is one with the Father and the Son, God in His fulness came to dwell from then on in your heart-yes, there are three Persons, but there is just the same but one God; there are five fingers but they make only one hand-and that one God in all three Persons dwells in you.

God does not have to use an airplane like the one you saw landing from its flight the other day, but He does come down from heaven to dwell in your soul; He came into each of us, Papa, Mamma and in you, in Henry and James and Pauline, in Genevieve and little Louise. He comes on His own without anyone else sending Him and His coming is very real. Besides all this, His dwelling in all of us does not keep Him from continuing to dwell in heaven, too. He is all-powerful; it causes Him no difficulty to be at several places at once. If He who exercises His power everywhere, comes especially into the souls of the baptized, it is to dwell there in a dwelling of love. When your godmother or your grandfather come to spend a few years at your house, how happy you are! It is to give you pleasure that they come; and they bring with them goodies and lovely presents. . . . God does the same thing when He comes to stay in you-He brings presents with Him; we call these gifts graces; that means favors, gifts He is not obliged to give but which He gives just because He is so good. Good, did we say? Extraordinarily good! Much kinder than godmother or grandpa; kinder even than Papa or Mamma. He is the One who made the kindness and goodness of fathers and mothers and of all good people on the earth. Think how much greater is God’s goodness since He possesses all this goodness put together and a great deal more besides!

But then if God is like that, how ought James and Joseph and Henry and Isabelle and Louise and Madeline behave themselves? Well, first of all, they should never do anything that would chase God from their souls; to do that is what we call mortal sin; mortal, because it forces God to leave just as if it killed Him. God cannot die, but it is just as if the person would say to Him, “I don’t want anything more to do with You; if I could do away with You, I would do so!” That is why mortal sin is such a vile thing.

And it is not enough for you to keep from driving God out of your soul; no, there in the depths of your heart, you should try to keep Him company. Don’t you think so? How sad that would be if He would be there within your soul and you would not pay any attention to Him, and seem to attach no importance at all to His Presence. That would not be very nice. You ought to visit Him there within your soul, in the morning, in the evening and often during the day; speak to Him; tell Him that you love Him very much. He who loves as a real Christian, a truly baptized soul, keeps God company since God is with him all the time.

EDUCATION TO THE SUPERNATURAL (3)

SINCE God is always present in the soul of the baptized person -provided that person has not driven Him away through mortal sin-with what respect should he treat not only his soul but also his body!

Mothers always dress their little ones in a beautiful white dress for their baptism. This is to show that later they ought never cover their souls with stains of sin. If muddy spots on lovely white material is ugly, how much uglier are sin stains on the soul!

That is also why the priest after bringing God into the soul of the tiny baby by saying as he pours the water, “I baptize thee in the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit,” hastens to add the injunction, “Receive this white garment and carry it undefiled to the Throne of God.” The whiteness of the garment symbolizes the purity of the soul.

When we have to appear before God at the end of our lives, what will He ask us? “Have you been faithful? Have you always respected the beautiful virtue of purity? Or is your soul stained by sin? Have you committed sins? Mortal sins? At the moment death struck you down, did you have God in your heart or had you driven Him away as if you wanted nothing more to do with Him?

“You drove Him away? Ah, well, since that is how it is, I want no more to do with you: I too will drive you away, begone!”

It is just as a father might call before him his child who had insulted him or tried to kill him; he would say, “I no longer look upon you as my son. You are not worthy to remain in the house. Get out! I will never speak to you again, I will never love you again!”

How dreadful to be driven away by God because we tried to kill Him with sin in our soul; because we tried to drive Him away . . . to drive Him, God who is so good, from our heart!

WE MUST INDEED PRAY THAT SUCH A THING NEVER HAPPENS!

If we want to die without stain of sin upon our soul, we must live without staining our soul by such ugly defilements. Now since God dwells within our soul and since our soul is enclosed within our body, then we must also keep our body pure. We must never use it to commit sin. We should always look upon it as a kind of church in which God dwells. What would we say of naughty boys who would throw pebbles into the window of the parish church or mud from the street on the decorations or the altar inside? It would be an insult hurled at Jesus who stays there in the tabernacle so that we can go to Him to tell Him that we love Him and that we are happy to be with Him.

A little baptized child is like a church, but a living church.

Jesus and the Child

How should we introduce Jesus into the life of the little one? Marie Fargues, a one-time educator, suggests the following psychological procedure: “You love Jesus very much, don’t you?” the mother asks the little one in a tone of voice that calls forth a fervent “yes.” Mamma must love Jesus to speak as she does. Therefore, Baby loves Him, too, and he wants to show it. He will clutch the picture of Jesus that the mother holds out to him, and kiss it with much ado. A statuette, a crucifix, a medal-these objects offer no direct interest to the child other than their polish or their color; mamma’s face is certainly softer and more pleasing. But if one is to embrace, there must be something to embrace; and how can one show that one loves without embracing. That is the sole reason of existence for the statuette, the picture, or the medal of Christ as far as the baby is concerned. People don’t embrace just anything, like papa’s paper or the sugar bowl; these things have other uses. But the things that are connected with the Name of Jesus, these things one kisses for love of Jesus.

BUT WHO IS JESUS?

Who is Jesus? A baby does not ask that question. Jesus is a fact, like papa or mamma. And the little one is not in the least disturbed about giving the same name to quite different objects, a medal, a picture, or a crucifix. For, in the beginning, the picture, the medal, or the crucifix, is Jesus. It will take time for the little one to understand that these things are merely representations of Jesus.

Little by little, the child will begin to distinguish the person from the representation and will begin to build up a more correct concept: Jesus is at one and the same time, the One who is represented on the medal, the One who lives in the tabernacle, the One who is on the crucifix, the One who is on the picture, the One who lives in the church, and the One who is in mamma’s heart after she goes to Holy Communion.

From then on, the clarification can be continued by helpful statements or questions: “Yes, Jesus is here,” or “Jesus did that” or, if we are in church, “Where is Jesus?” At Christmas time when the little one pulls on mother’s sleeve, insisting, “I want to go over and see little Jesus in the pretty crib,” a splendid opportunity presents itself to explain the difference between the figure of Jesus in the crib and Jesus present in the tabernacle.

The transfer from the concept of Jesus to that of God is evidently a delicate step. The mother has told the child that God is everywhere, sees everything, but that He has no body. Now Jesus has a body. All that is not very clear to the child.

Little by little, it will become so.

God is at one and the same time, the Father, Son and Holy Spirit. There is God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Ghost and they have existed from all eternity. It is the Son, however, who became Jesus when the Blessed Virgin gave Him a body, and He walked among men on earth.

Thus the little one through acquaintance with Jesus rises to knowledge of God. That God should have become man, is not at all astonishing to the child, and still less astonishing is it to him that Jesus had a mother.

Thus, bit by bit, things are seen in their proper relation. There cannot be complete clarity all at once. However, by means of successive bits of information, and above all by successive attempts at prayer, the little one enters into contact with Jesus; this contact is more of the heart than of the mind.

Historical and doctrinal ideas will be added later to complete the child’s concept. Even at this early age he has become acquainted with the Triune God and the Incarnation. The cross, too, has been revealed to him. It is a delight for the child to hearthe story of Jesus” life, and, in the retelling how many ideas can be given, how much curiosity satisfied, how many lessons taught!

Since Jesus loves children so much-and we know that He does from the gospel story of Jesus blessing the little ones- since He has loved people so much and done so much for them, should not little John, or Lucy, or Alice, love Jesus, too, with all their heart; should they not learn from Him how to make a generous sacrifice when the opportunity presents itself?

THE FATHER WHO DOESN’T PRAY

LITTLE Paul who is only four-and-a-half years old, is kneeling beside his bed saying his night prayers; they seem to be very long.

“Haven’t you finished your prayers?” asks his nurse.

“Yes,” answers the child slightly embarrassed.

“Well, then, what are you doing now?”

The child blushes and murmurs timidly, “I say two of them every night-my own and papa’s. I heard him refuse mamma when she asked him to say his prayers; so now I am doing it for him.”

Precocious, would you say? Maybe so. But have children not often startled us with their penetration?

How foolish are those parents who believe they can fail in logic before their children! How little do they know of the workings of those little minds and those little hearts! How little do they know how these little ones can put to use what they hear!

Lady Baker, a convert, writes in her book “The House of Light” that when she was a child of about eleven years, she overheard a conversation between her father and her mother on the subject of religion. Thefather was saying, “I heard a good sermon today; it pointed out how the Reform was a great mistake and that England would have been much better off without it. . . .”

“Be still,” interrupted his wife in a scandalized tone, “be careful before the children.”

“I was sent off to my studies,” continues Lady Baker, “and I heard no more of the conversation; but I took to dreaming over these strange words.”

That very evening while taking a walk with the maid, she asked to visit a Catholic church. From that date, she says, there was born in her the desire to study the beginnings of the pretended Reform and to change her religion later should this study prove that what her father had said was true.

It may be that I have not lost the habit of prayer, thanks to God’s grace, but it could easily be that I do not let my children see me praying often enough. To pray, and to let one’s children see that one prays, are two different things. It is not enough to pray as an individual only. My duty as head of the family is to pray in the name of the family, in the sight of the family, and with the family. My boys must know that their father honors God; they must see that he conducts himself respectfully before Him; they must learn from his example the great duty of adoration and worship. Prayer, at least evening prayer, should be said in common.

In many families where all gather together at the end of the day to honor God, it is the mother who leads the prayer until the time comes when each child will be able to take a turn. It would be much better if the father would take the lead. It is the function which belongs to him, a function which is almost priestly in character.

Should it ever happen that I have occasion to pass unfavorable judgment on a churchman, or on some religious incident-although it could seldom happen that such an action would be my right-I must take care as to who is listening. Children don’t miss anything . . . let me give that some thought.

TABLE PRAYERS

A CELEBRATED economist, LePlay, wrote “Until I can say grace at meals without astonishing any of my guests, I will not believe that I have done enough for the return of good habits.” Grace at meals seems to be a simple detail. Are we not perhaps attaching too much significance to it?

Consider it a detail, if you wish, but it is a detail which proves much. Rene Bazin relates how edified he was while visiting in the north of France as a preparatory study for one of his novels, to observe how the family of an industrialist, in Roubaix, had said grace faithfully before meals, assigning each child a day to lead.

Another author relates the profound impression made on him by his visit to the home of an outstanding businessman in Antwerp. Before and after dinner, the eight children stood with their parents around the table while the father devoutly recited the meal prayers.

Where the practice of saying grace is found in a family, there is also found true family life blessed with children and with solid piety; there will be no selfishness; instead there will be found a love for tradition, respect for authority, and an undisputed reign of Christ over the home. The saying of grace may be a small thing, but it is an indication of great things.

The Christian family will not be restored, nor will it be maintained, without the restoration and the maintenance of Christian practices-the noblest practices surely, and the most obligatory, but likewise the most insignificant in appearance. However, are there any which are truly insignificant?—

But these things will embarrass our visitors.

Nothing forces them to pay you a visit, and if they want to do it, they undoubtedly respect the customs of the house, the crucifix on the wall as well as the tint of the wall, the normal acts of Christian life as well as the menus prepared for them. No one is obliging them to adopt your conduct, but they can at least accept it while they are with you.

The real motive, if you are truly honest, is not charity for others, but human respect and a concern for yourself. You are afraid; you do not dare.

Your visitors will be either Christian or non-Christian. Why among Christians should one blush because of Christ? If the guests are not Christians, will they be astonished at Christian acts, knowing the atmosphere of the home and the character of those who dwell in it?

In addition to grace at meals, another beautiful Christian custom for the home is the evening blessing given by the father to all the children: As each child comes to give him a good-night kiss, the father lays his hand upon his head or traces a little cross upon his forehead. What an advantage for the children who see in their father a quasi-religious-as they really should be able to do. What an advantage for the father who will as a consequence be more conscious of his office. Imagine what his thoughts must be as he blesses his children in the evening if, during the day, he has done something for which his conscience reproaches him!

“We shall make our brethren Christians again,” sing the Young Catholic Workers. “We shall make homes Christian again,” should be the song of married Christians. To do that, they must begin with their own.

CHILDREN AND CHRISTMAS

IT IS easy to understand how enraptured children can become at the contemplation of a tiny Babe in a manger. To have God reduce Himself to their own status, to become a child like them, to need a mother, what more could they desire! They feel on a footing with Him. The Almighty is of their stature!

We are told that on Christmas Eve, Saint John of the Cross used to carry a statue of the Infant Jesus in procession about the monastery. The procession would stop before each monk’s cell asking hospitality for the Divine Babe. The cells, like the hearts of the monks, would open to faith and to love. Only then would the statue be carried to the Crib and the Divine Office begin.

Children share the simplicity of these holy monks. Nothing attracts them more than the Crib.

This very attraction makes it imperative that they learn about it correctly.

Care must be taken not to mix in with the gospel mystery any details which the child will later come to recognize as false. What good can come of representing Santa Claus almost as God the Father who has given us His Son? Why let children believe that it is the Infant Jesus Himself who comes down the chimney to bring them presents . . . only to hear some day, “You know, mamma, this is the last time I”m going to believe in Little Jesus who comes down the chimney with presents.”

If we mix the false with the true, it is no wonder the child will not be able to separate legend from doctrine later on. The Gospel is sufficiently extraordinary in itself without our adding any of our own creations to it. If we do, we may well fear the child will become disgusted later at being deceived and reject everything.

Any charming legend or pious little story we may want to tell them when they are very little should be kept quite distinct and handled very differently from the dogmatic truths and authentic historical facts we teach them. Let us not introduce fairies into the story of Jeanne of Arc’s childhood, nor put the legend of Saint Nicholas rescuing little children on a level with the realities of the Redemption, with the facts of Our Lord’s saving us from hell.

If, therefore, we are to capitalize on the child’s attraction for the marvelous, let us avoid abusing his credulity; above all when dealing with the lives of the saints, with the Blessed Virgin and with Christ, let us not mix the false with the true. Let us always keep on a plane apart those truths which are to be forever the object of ineradicable belief.

There is, however, a positive suggestion to offer: Explain to the child how Baptism has made him a living Crib; not a wooden manger padded with straw, but a living Crib; not a crib where only little Jesus lives but a Crib where the Three Persons of the Holy Trinity dwell, the Three Divine Persons. Here, too, is splendid opportunity to show the child the difference between the two presences-the presence of God in the soul through grace and the presence of Jesus in the stable through the Incarnation.

EUCHARISTIC EDUCATION (1)

A FATHER wrote the following incident to a friend:

“You are acquainted with my little boy. The other day his sister who is fifteen asked him, “Bernard, what is the difference between Holy Communion and bl essed bread?” That could have been a stickler for a little fellow only six- and-ahalf. “Oh,” he answered quickly, “they are not at all alike. Blessed bread is just bread and Holy Communion is our good Jesus.” The child has never had formal catechism lessons, but he has observed about him the practice of Christian life; he has heard his mother tell him upon returning from church that she had received Holy Communion; that is all.”

However the child acquired his correct ideas, it is evident that with a knowledge of this kind he is ready to make his First Holy Communion.

The Church requires the child to know the difference between the Blessed Eucharist and ordinary bread. Relative to this point the bishops of Belgium state in their “Practical Instructions” that “the child has sufficient knowledge and has met requirements if he knows according to his capacity that in the Eucharistic Bread there is the true living Body of Jesus Christ with His soul and His divinity, glorious as He is in heaven.”

By way of supplementary explanation the Instructions add:

“It suffices to have him know that Jesus Christ died for us upon the Cross before ascending to heaven; that He wanted to remain among us in the Host in the tabernacle; that He deigned to make Himself the food of our souls; that it is the priest who changes the bread and wine into the Body and Blood of Our Lord Jesus Christ when he pronounces the words of Consecration during Mass and that from this moment on the Host is no longer bread but it has become the living Body of Jesus Christ; that Jesus is hidden in this Host; that when one receives Holy Communion he receives God into his heart and that, therefore, he must before receiving cleanse his soul from all stain of sin.”

Moreover, the Instructions further observe that in addition to the knowledge of the Eucharist as already described, the child ought to know and understand to the best of his ability:

That he has been created by God;

That this God, the Creator and Sovereign Master of all things is One only God;

That there are Three Persons in God: the Father, the Son, the Holy Spirit;

That the second Person became Man for us, suffered and died upon the Cross to save us;

That the person who with the grace of Jesus Christ does good by observing the law of God will be rewarded by God in heaven;

While the person who does evil by disobeying the law of God and who dies in the state of mortal sin will be deprived of the vision of God in heaven and will be punished eternally in hell.

It is important to note the stress laid upon the two phrases, according to his capacity and to the best of his ability.

The Church does not demand a profound knowledge; she requires only a knowledge proportionate to the age of the child. It is not necessary for him to know bookish formulas by heart; nor is it sufficient for him to learn by heart explanations which he recites like a parrot. The child should understand-according to his capacity, yes-but he should truly understand.

EUCHARISTIC EDUCATION ( 2 )

BESIDES the knowledge of the truths of faith which the child should have according to his age and intelligence, the Church requires of him the desire to approach God in the Eucharist before admitting him to his First Holy Communion. Diocesan statutes state:

“It is essential that, knowing the infinite love which brings our Divine Savior to him and the desire Our Lord has to give Himself and to unite Himself with him in Holy Communion, the child should on his part desire to approach Jesus and give evidence of his veneration and his love for Him.”

This sufficient devotion supposes:

“The pious recitation of the prayers essential for the Christian: The Our Father, the Hail Mary, the Apostles” Creed, the Acts of Faith, Hope, Charity and of Contrition and dispositions of reverence toward the Holy Eucharist.”

AT WHAT AGE CAN THESE CONDITIONS BE REALIZED?

Canon Law avoids setting a mathematical age. It states:

“All the faithful of either sex who have attained the age of discretion, that is to say, the age of reason, ought to receive the Sacrament of the Holy Eucharist at least once a year, during the Easter season, unless on the advice of his own confessor and for a reasonable cause he be justified in differing for the time being from the accomplishment of this precept.” (Canon 859)

We can readily understand that because of differences in intelligence, receptivity of soul, educational environment, and the catechetical instruction obtainable the age required for First Holy Communion can vary. It is up to those charged with the spiritual care of the child to determine whether he has attained the correct age. Children attain it sooner than we might think in many cases.

If parents want to stimulate a desire for Holy Communion in their child, is it not evident that they themselves must have an ardent hunger for It? A mother who seldom receives Holy Communion will hardly be able to instill in her little ones a desire to receive Jesus. Should she none the less succeed in imparting to them a burning desire for Holy Communion, how will she then prevent their astonishment at her own lack of eagerness to communicate? What is good for the children is good for mamma, too, isn’t it?

All things considered, is it not also true that what holds for the mother holds equally for the father?

Certainly there may at times be sufficiently justifiable reasons why papa and mamma cannot receive Holy Communion so often as their children and the reasons can be given to the children. However, it is well to remember that a child uses admirable logic. He will not accept as a precious treasure something which no one around him appears to appreciate.

Further there is nothing that so convinces and draws him as example.

EUCHARISTIC EDUCATION ( 3 )

IT WOULD be a mistake to limit the Eucharistic knowledge of the child to an understanding of the Real Presence and the nature of Holy Communion.

As soon as possible and in proportion to the unfolding of his understanding, the child should be initiated into the Mystery of the Eucharistic-Sacrifice, or in other words, he should be given an intelligent appreciation of the Mass. This naturally supposes that those instructing him have complete and correct information on this vital subject- unfortunately, this is not often the case.

It is easy to explain even to relatively young children -as was evidenced in the Children’s Crusade-that Our Lord did not want to limit the offering of His immolation on the Cross to a single day, to Good Friday only.

Because sins were going to continue to swarm the earth, it was fitting-although certainly in itself not necessary, but assuredly fitting-for Our Lord to repeat His elevation between earth and heaven, to put Himself as a screen-the screen of His nail-pierced Hands and open Side-between the justice of God perpetually outraged and the sins of humanity.

Consequently, before dying, Our Lord gave to His Apostles and their successors the power to change bread and wine into His Body and Blood, the power to offer Him anew, the power in each Holy Mass to lift him up again between earth and heaven.

Since every day is marked by sin and the betrayal of Judas, by the crimes of men, by forgetfulness and ingratitude without name on the part of so many people, it is fitting, says Bossuet, that every day be a Good Friday.

Our Lord in every Mass has again in the hands of the priest the dispositions of complete sacrifice that were in His Heart at the moment of the First Eucharistic Offering and which He kept throughout His Passion and His agony on the Cross.

In this way will the Offering of His Sacrifice be perpetuated.

It is not a different immolation from the immolation of Holy Thursday at the Last Supper; it is the same. Nor is it a different immolation from the immolation on Calvary. There it was a bloody sacrifice; at the altar, in the Mass, it is an unbloody sacrifice. The form alone is different.

In order to stress the identity of the Mass and the Sacrifice of the Cross-for it is a dogma that they are one and the same sacrifice-the Church provides carefully that at every Holy Mass a great number of details recall the immolation of Jesus on Calvary.

The priest may not celebrate Mass unless there is a crucifix above the altar. The altar stone beneath the altar cloths is marked by five crosses which recall the five Wounds of Our Lord. All the objects the priest uses and the vestments he wears have reminders of the cross.

There should then not be too much difficulty for the child if he is alert to become well informed about the ineffable mystery of Christ’s renewed or rather continued immolation. Then he will get the habit-and a very essential habit it is-of receiving Holy Communion not only to receive but also to give; not only to benefit by the Living Bread but to unite himself with Jesus in the very act of His perpetuated Sacrifice.

EUCHARISTIC EDUCATION (4)

SHOULD children be led further in their Eucharistic education than the phases discussed so far? That is, should they at such an early age be introduced to the subject of grace, particularly the ineffable grace given to the world through the Sacrament of the altar?

It may be advisable to wait a bit before introducing them to the subject of grace but it should be kept constantly in mind. We ought not take it upon ourselves to dispense to these little Christians only a part of Christianity.

Before we can penetrate to the depths of the Eucharistic mystery, we must understand the great doctrine of our incorporation in Christ: Our Lord, in order to restore to us the divine life which we lost by original sin, was not satisfied to redeem us from without by paying our debts with the merits of His life and sacrifice; He wanted to make us one with Him which, as I have already understood in my meditations, is the culminating point of Christianity. Our Lord in order to redivinize us made us one with Himself.

Thanks to the bloody grafting Our Divine Lord was willing to endure for love of us on Calvary, we were made capable of being joined, set and established as branches of the Living Trunk. Baptism made this sublime incorporation effective for each of us.

Since Calvary, then, we are of the body of Christ-Christ’s mystical body: Jesus plus us. “I am the Vine, you are the branches.”

A beautiful and strictly logical consequence follows: Just as the Divine Redeemer dying on the Cross offered Himself as Head of the whole human race, so in this pure oblation He offers not only Himself as Head of the Church to the Heavenly Father, but in Himself, His mystical members as well.

Since Calvary, Jesus is not separated from His members. A person passing through a door does not first put his head through and then fifty feet later bring through the other members of his body; he goes through as a unit at one time.

Is it so difficult to get our little Christians to understand that? Naturally, we will attempt to explain it to them only after we have made them conscious of what their baptism means to them and the splendor of their status in Christ.

We tell ourselves too easily that it is difficult and under this satisfying pretext we neglect to give the young the relish and the knowledge for their splendor which they are actually capable of enjoying.

I will teach my children as soon as possible to find in the Eucharist Christ’s great plan for proving His love. “He has made us one with Him. In the act of sacrifice through the hands of the priest, whose word alone has brought Him to be present on the altar the Faithful themselves with one desire and one prayer offer to the Eternal Father the most acceptable victim of praise and propitiation for the Church’s universal needs.”

EUCHARISTIC EDUCATION (5)

WE OUGHT to get the children into the habit of going to Holy Communion not only to receive, although that in itself is a tremendous privilege for “Unless you eat the Flesh of the Son of Man you shall not have life in you” but most of all to give. We have considered this point before, but it is worthy of much thought.

How can we expect to enter into a true union with One who is both the Immolation and the Immolated if we do not strive to nourish the spirit of sacrifice in the very depths of our being? To join together two beings one of whom is in the state of sacrifice and the other not, one who is imbued with the spirit of generosity and immolation and one who is not would be but a juxtaposition of two totally different beings. Is that union?

The spirit of sacrifice then is the prime disposition we should foster in ourselves if we wish to profit the most from the Eucharist. The priest at the Offertory puts a few drops of water into the chalice. We must pour our whole selves into the chalice to be offered.

The desire to give much more than the desire to receive should move us. To offer our generosity; to understand the call to sacrifice, to a united sacrifice, that is the Eucharistic spirit.

If only we could inspire all our religious practices and activities with this disposition which means so much to us when we are participating in the highest act of worship possible, the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass.

For how many is their whole life of prayer only their prayers of petition! They are in difficulty, they need something and they hold out their hand, “Lord, give me. . . .” Such a prayer is not forbidden, but that is not all there is to prayer.

“Prayer,” says the Catechism, “is the raising up of our minds and hearts to God. . . .” Why? In order to adore Him, to thank Him, to beg His pardon and to implore His graces.

The petition for graces comes last in the order of prayers. First and foremost is the prayer of adoration, it is our homage ascending to God. It is toward Him and not toward ourselves that our souls are to be directed in prayer. “I praise You, OGod, for Your great glory.” That is the fundamental sentiment of the Gloria in Excelsis. “My soul doth magnify the Lord” is Mary’s exultant prayer, the Magnificat.

In the prayer of Thanksgiving, there is some thought of ourselves but we are secondary. We pray because we have received a gift from God. We thank Him for His beneficence. This kind of prayer could be much more frequent! There are so many who are in the habit of receiving without ever so much as a “Thank You.”

In the prayer for pardon, he who prays is surely present in his prayer; he has sinned; it is of himself he speaks. The prayer is excellent just the same, but it is only third in order of excellence.

How much prayer would there be left in the lives of most Christians if their prayers of petition were omitted from their worship of God?

How do I stand in this matter of prayer? Is it my principal effort to interest God in my affairs rather than to interest myself in Him?

I ought to broaden my concept of worship. I will teach my children to petition, to implore, to thank, but above all I will teach them to adore.

TRAINING TO PURITY (1)

THE child is naturally innocent. Moreover, if baptized, it possesses with infused faith a special quality of innocence which comes to it from the presence of the Holy Spirit in its soul.

We must avoid any diminishing of this innocence. It is a great mistake to think that because the child is innocent, “it doesn’t understand,” and consequently to take no precautions; to be lacking in vigilance over the child’s bathing and dressing, to let it run about without clothes, unsupervised before its brothers and sisters.

The adults of the family, too, should avoid any immodesty either in posture or dress before the little one; they should keep out of its way pictures of questionable decency. True, at the time, the harm may be slight or even negative, but the child has eyes and a memory; it registers everything, stores it all away.

Only when the child is still a baby should it be allowed to stay in bed after it is awake. Great care should be exercised for bodily cleanliness to prevent the formation of bad habits that might result from discomfort. It is best to separate the sexes for sleep and to give the children a bed that is not too soft.

As the children grow older, we must be vigilant over their choice of playmates. We should protect them from any pictures, statues, advertisements or entertainment that can disturb them. We are wise if we keep the children busy even to the point of fatigue, but a fatigue in keeping with their age and strength. Never should we praise children for their beauty, especially little girls. We ought also to inspire them to absolute confidence. In addition we must seize every opportunity to show them positively the grandeur of purity.

People sometimes attempt to rear children as if they were without sex. Children are either little boys or little girls. Long before the awakening of their sex instincts, in fact from their babyhood, their personality is distinctly individual and gives foreshadowings of fatherhood or of motherhood. Sex, although its characteristic functions do not become active until the onset of puberty, impregnates the whole physical and moral being from the beginning. Consequently, it is important to foresee long in advance the unfolding of that providential power which is still dormant yet capable of being influenced beneficially or detrimentally at this early stage according to the wisdom of the folly of its training.

It would be well, then, to heed the strong injunctions of a one-time educator: “We must never forget that certain organs of the child which still serve him only in the processes of elimination will become for him during adolescence the seat of the powerful passion of the flesh and that then certain acts, looks, attitudes which now may be only vulgar or immodest can easily be after the awakening of sexual urges impure and perverse. Further, such acts and attitudes can arouse unhealthy and troublesome sexual excitation prematurely and during the crisis of adolescence turn spontaneously into the development of a vice which seems to be rooted in the soul from its budding forth so truly is habit second nature; and habit is difficult to break even in early childhood.”

We should not, however, be satisfied with a purely negative training to holy purity, a training made up for the most part of wise precautions. There is need, too, for positive training in this beautiful virtue. This positive training will in part consist of education in true facts, a discreet and chaste explanation of the functions of the generative organs according to God’s plan; an explanation as complete as the age of the child permits or requires. The duty of giving this instruction falls largely upon the mother who only too often finds herself inadequately prepared.

TRAINING TO PURITY (2)

IT IS a fact that even very young children become curious about the difference of the sexes as well as the mystery of generation and they express their curiosity with embarrassing candor and directness in blunt questions: “Where do babies come from?”

In general, no one is better qualified than the mother to give the initial instructions and information delicately, without wounding innocence or troubling and shocking the child’s keenly susceptible soul by confronting it too brusquely with disturbing new concepts. It is better for the father to instruct the boys. Parents have the grace of state; furthermore, they know or they ought to know how to speak to their children and exactly what to say according to what the child already knows or does not know, according to its impressionability, its probable emotional reaction, its intelligence, its imagination.

The initial instruction must always be strictly individual, never group instruction.

Such instruction should be given early enough, in time, but never prematurely. Rarely should a mass of information be given at once, but nearly always imparted progressively. One must never give any false information, but neither is one obliged to tell all there is to be told at one blow. Only such knowledge should be given as is necessary to clarify the present difficulty, to satisfy the child’s curiosity at the time. Later when occasion offers to complete the information, it can be completed.

The introduction of the child to the facts of life must be made with simplicity, without excessive preambles and beating about the bush, objectively without clumsiness; they must be presented as something quite natural but explained in an atmosphere of earnestness, dignity and respect. There must be nothing affected or borrowed in one’s manner or tone, only calmness and a natural everyday voice uncolored by emotionalism. The child, however, must be made to realize that he has been given no new subject for chatter with his playmates and friends; if there is something he wishes to speak of later regarding his new information or if there is something he does not understand, he will always be able to ask mother or father about it; he should speak to them about it.

A very sensible mother concluded the instructions she gave her little one with these few words: “What I have just told you is a secret, our secret. Now that you know it, give me your hand and promise me that you will not question other people about it or ever speak to anyone else about it, but only to me.”

A little child will be flattered by such a mark of confidence and being naturally pure will sense the reason for this recommendation as clearly as if it had been expressed.

In addition, if the child is used to living in an atmosphere of filial trust and abandonment, of respect for itself, of training in sacrifice, supernatural generosity, daily contact with the invisible world through prayer and love of God, its instruction will prove singularly easy.

We cannot overemphasize the fact that “training to purity must be set in the framework of a solid all-round training of the will, the conscience, the emotions, the imagination and the whole body.” To enlighten the child regarding sex will serve for nothing and can even be harmful if it has not first been established in fidelity in the light of spirituality, and in energy of will.

In other words, formal training to purity must be preceded by training pure and simple. It will be possible to speak clearly to a child who lives in an environment that is deeply impregnated with Christianity. In his tranquil soul, innocent and disciplined as it is, useful initiations can take place with profit and without causing any trouble; his delicate conscience will understand; his refined and mortified emotions will yield readily to the requirements of modesty, and he will not be stimulated to an unhealthy curiosity.

TRAINING TO PURITY (3)

SATISFYING the child s legitimate curiosity is not of itself a sufficient antidote against evil; the nascent passions aiding a precocious corruption in which the mind could effect a premature awakening of troubling instincts could very easily be the starting point of impure habits. It is essential that with or preferably before we enlighten the child’s mind on sex, we inspire him with a love for moral beauty and develop in him a generous will.

When we have done this, how should we proceed in teaching the child the mystery of life?

There are two aspects to the lesson: to explain the role of the mother in generation which is relatively easy; to explain the role of the father which is more delicate and which should consequently be given much later.

For the explanation of the first phase of this lesson there is no better starting point than the Hail Mary, “Blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus.”

“How beautiful it is,” said little Guy de Fontgalland to his father one day, “how beautiful it is that little Jesus, wishing to come to earth like us, hid Himself for nine months within His mother, in His mother’s womb! How beautiful it is! I learned that today when I said the Hail Mary; I understood it. How little Jesus must love us to do that for us!”

In “Formation de la chastete” by Ernst, we read an example of how easily and simply a mother went about the instruction of her child. “Where do babies come from?” queried her seven-year-old son. She answered with a story:

“Your father and mother love each other very much. Therefore, they wanted a child with all their hearts. You know that little children come from God: He created the first man and gave all people life. But when He wanted to make another man, He made use of parents and He put love into their heart. He makes the little baby grow from a tiny little seed which he leaves hidden for almost a year in a dark little hiding place. You know flowers, plants and even big trees come also from little seeds. (It is good to call children’s attention to that fact very early as it makes a good background.) Now each grain must first of all remain some time in the dark earth. The seed of the child has been placed by God’s plan in the womb of the mother; that is its hiding place. That is where you, too, remained quite near my heart and God made your body and soul. How? No one really knows but God Himself. You grew until you were big enough to be taken in my arms.

“Even though the mother suffers great pain and may be in danger of losing her life when the baby comes into the world, she is glad to bear it all for love of her little one. Besides her joy is greater than her pain. Parents thank God for His gift and promise Him totake good care of the child and rear it well.”

There will be no difficulty if these instructions are given before puberty when the opportunity arises.

The need to give the facts about the father’s part in the marital act is much less pressing. Such details can be given when adolescent boys or girls ask specific questions on this point revealing that the problem is uppermost in their mind or when lack of knowledge if delayed would cause them troubles of mind or soul; even when the subject is not on their mind or causing them any difficulty, it may still seem advisable to instruct them by way of preparation for life, as for example, before they go away to school or enlist for military service, or take a vacation job or any similar occasion. How much better a revelation made with delicacy and love than a brutal shock to conscience through conversations, reading or impure pictures!

After giving the necessary details about the physiological aspect of marriage, parents should never fail to lead their child’s mind as quickly as possible to a consideration of the glorious purpose of generation-a participation in the creative power of God.

TRAINING TO PURITY (4)

EVEN though there may be cases where it seems advisable to give all the necessary explanations in a single sitting, in general it is better to spread the lessons over a well-spaced period of time and to grade them according to the development of the child, its suspected temptations, and its needs of soul.

Wise are parents and educators who show concern for the child, foresee its needs, guess its worries, answer prudently and discreetly its silent or expressed questioning. They need much self-sacrifice and intelligence; but it is their role in life—the most beautiful part of their role.

After impressing the child with the fact that everything in the mystery of the origin of life is sacred, divine-the union of the parents, the generation of the child, which gives another elect soul to God and another member to the Mystical Body- is there any need to call attention to the gravity of the desecrations that the perversity of men perpetrate against it?

Certainly such an idea should not be a starting point in our explanations; the child’s first ideas about the origin of life must not be mingled with the concept of sin. The idea of, magnificent grandeur should dominate. Later on, at an opportune time and as the need arises, we can explain how contrary to God’s plan it is to interfere in any way with the generation of life whether through selfishness or fear of suffering; we can point out how God has surrounded the use of the reproductive organs with special protections; we ought to emphasize the safeguarding character of modesty and call attention to the tremendous thought of God’s divine presence within us, making respect for our bodies imperative since they are living temples of the Holy Spirit. We will tell them, too, that God punishes severely the wicked use of the creative power He has entrusted to His creatures, spiritually by loss of grace and by hell and often corporally by disease.

What we must avoid above all is to give the children a sort of obsession in regard to these matters. It is much better to divert their attention from this subject than to concentrate it there. One writer aptly says, “The best sex education is the kind in which sex holds the least place possible.” Another, “The sacred work of nature must be enveloped by the triple veil of modesty, silence, and obscurity.”

We must say enough to enlighten the child, to silence his curiosity, but refrain from saying more than necessary which would excite further curiosity and trouble. We should approach the instruction from its noblest side so that the thought of the mystery of life will always be linked with the thought of divine splendor. We need to pray much so that the child by means of our efforts and despite dangers from within and without will remain faithful in purity always, faithful to the grace of his baptism; constant in living by the light of faith. That means we cannot limit ourselves to purely natural explanations but must steep our teaching in dogma- the divine life of the Christian, his incorporation in Christ.

From these religious principles we can show that it is not enough to have a beautiful ideal; we must live out this ideal, an ideal that is both human and Christian. The necessity of Confession, direction, and frequent Holy Communion, in achieving the ideal ought to be stressed.

It is primarily in this endeavor that the words of Our Lord have special significance: “Without Me you can do nothing.” And again, “The spirit is willing but the flesh is weak.” It is folly to expose oneself to temptation and wise to moderate one’s love of comfort and pleasure, to learn how to conquer oneself. Better still is it to learn how to spend oneself in the service of others. Nothing is a better protection against failings in self than the gift of self to others. The first beneficiary of the apostolate is the apostle himself. We ought to encourage youth to join in one or other of the special Catholic Action groups of the Apostolate such as a C. Y. O. group, a Sodality, or Catholic scout work. It will help discipline the body while training the soul.

READING

LAMARTINE”S mother wrote in her diary on June 19, 1801:

“I was thinking again today about the danger of light reading. I believe that I would do well to refrain altogether from it; it would be a sacrifice at first, a sacrifice that would certainly please God since such reading is one of the most dangerous pleasures in the world. Besides, when I am taken up with this distracting kind of reading, serious and useful reading wearies and bores me; yet, I certainly need it to become capable of instructing my children. For their sakes I have finally decided to deprive myself of the pleasures of frivolous reading.”

Parents should exercise care in their own reading. They, too, must avoid all that could sully their souls and rob them of virtue. They can go even further and like Lamartine’s mother give up reading that consumes the precious time which could be spent in useful reading. One needs to know so many things to rear children! Making due allowance for needful and useful distractions, one ought always to choose reading matter that will enrich the mind and foster the qualities needed for the delicate ministry of parenthood.

What good fortune to be helped in advance by one’s children:

“For their sakes, I am finally decided to deprive myself of the pleasure of frivolous reading.” But the parents” reading is not the only problem. There is another, the children’s reading. What great imprudence is evident in many families where all sorts of reviews, magazines, newspapers, and books definitely unfit for children are left lying about in their way; where unwise freedom of the library is granted and children can ferret out books that are often harmful to their morals and Christian convictions.

Jean Jacques Rousseau’s story is well known. Born a Calvinist of parents who could scarcely be called commendable, he met with nothing but disturbing examples in his early childhood; however, he manifested a singular purity in resisting all interior and exterior temptations to corruption. He became a Catholic later and felt himself drawn to the priesthood. But his superiors decided at the end of a few weeks that he definitely did not have the makings of a good priest in him.

Some time after he left the seminary he was perverted morally by his benefactor, Madame de Warrens, who by most culpable relations shamefully debased the youth she called “Little one” despite her claim of wanting to act as “Mother” to him.

Awakening to a realization of his condition, Rousseau wrote in 1738: “O my God, pardon the sins I have committed up to this day, all the evils into which I have fallen. . . . Accept my repentance, O God, . . . I will remember that You are the witness of all my actions. . . . I will be indulgent toward others, severe toward myself; I will resist temptations; I will live purely. . . . O my sovereign Master, I will spend my life in serving You.”

But unfortunately a library was opened to him and he “perused books with a sort of frenzy,” with no direction, no discernment. He fell under the influence of Diderot, and became a recruit for the Encyclopedists.

We know the rest. His story should incite us to serious thought. On what does the orientation of a life depend? An unlocked door, momentary forgetfulness, negligence-and a soul is perverted forever!

The conclusion is evident: Never to have bad books in the house. What good comes of them?

If for purposes of study or other reasons, books which might prove dangerous for the rest of the family are absolutely essential, they must always be kept in a locked place. Children are curious, so too are the help. Harm is quickly done!

TRAINING OF THE EMOTIONS

MANY parents are too soft in the training of their children. In order not to pain their offspring, they give in to their every whim. If the little one wants to be kissed, it is kissed; more often than not its desire for the kiss is anticipated by the parents to satisfy a desire of their own and to shower upon the little one proofs of an exaggerated tenderness. Should the child want a piece of candy, an object to examine, the parents rush to give it; they give him everything he wants or they think he wants.

What is the result? A child incapable of self denial; a child who seeks only one thing, the satisfaction of his little cravings. What a great danger for later life!

Father Viollet, director of the Association of Catholic Mothers, speaking at its convention in 1929 said:

“Consider a mother who has obeyed all the corporal whims of her child; she has in so doing prepared for all the child’s future falls. The little one lives as it were only by the senses of taste and touch. If a mother satisfies every sensual desire of the child in the delight of the palate and bodily comforts, she unconsciously makes it a slave of its desires; are we not correct then in saying that she herself has paved the way for the child’s powerlessness later to control its sexual life?

“When sex urges appear, it is only a matter of a change of place for the sense cravings: The desires that in the child were but the hankerings of its palate will spread at the age of puberty to the other parts of the body. If the child has not been accustomed from little on to control his sense of taste and touch, how do we suppose he can escape becoming the slave of sexual sensuality? This is a point that cannot be overlooked.”

Some parents are too demonstrative toward their children. Of course, there is no question of forbidding all marks of affection so natural on the part of the parents for their children and the children for their parents; that too would be an extreme. It is simply a matter of moderating tender caresses, of keeping them in their proper measure, well-ordered.

Just as it is essential for children to be reared in an atmosphere of joyous confidence, loving simplicity, harmonious companionship penetrated through and through with mutual love, so too it is essential to avoid excess in demonstrations of affection, endearing expressions, caresses and fondling. Excess in this just as excess in any other respect is a defect. It is easy to fall into such excess. Canon Dermine, a very understanding man, made this comment:

“Parents, older brothers and sisters, maids, governesses, friends of the family are inclined by the attraction of their own feelings to shower babies with hugs and kisses. These immoderate manifestations, although they have nothing indecent about them, are not without danger, for they nourish in the child a need for tenderness and a sort of sensuality which can easily become a predisposition for the awakening of the passions. Here moderation should be the rule.”

The training of the children begins in the training of the parents. They ought to moderate their own feelings if they do not want their children to give evidence later of some dangerously exacting needs. There is one kind of glutton who stuffs himself with food and sweets; there is another who is consumed by a need for caresses.

Let us be moderate ourselves on these points so that we can teach the children to be moderate. Training is built on wise and intelligent moderation.

THE CHILD AND LAZINESS

IT HAS been said that a great difficulty in child-training is to know when to caress and when to whip.

While it is true that many of the ch ild’s faults arise from his physical condition, we should not exaggerate that fact; however, until we have proved that the fault is not the result of a physical state, an embrace is of more value than a whipping.

But here is a child whose faults are moral not physical, nor is there a psychological difficulty involved; he is sensual, he lies and he steals. There is nothing for it but to use restraints and punishments, without, however, neglecting wholesome encouragement at any manifestation of good will.

This is all very simple in theory, but the practical application of it is not always easy especially when the fault in question happens to be laziness. When a normally intelligent child dawdles at his work; when in spite of all efforts to stimulate him with high motives of courage, hope of reward and similar attractions, he persists in his inertia, chances are that he has something physically wrong with him or he is suffering from poor hygienic conditions. There was, for example, the little boy who appeared to be disgustingly lazy. One day, however, an attack of appendicitis made an operation imperative for him. Six months later, the child was at the head of his class.

Another child was in a classroom that was overcrowded and the atmosphere was so vitiated that he had difficulty breathing. He was sent to the country and immediately his work habits improved.

Whipping in either of these two cases would have been no help in curing the laziness of the children; all that was necessary was to make conditions favorable for work.

But there are truly lazy children; theirs is a moral laziness:

They won’t work at all because they don’t have the least bit of energy. The Catechism defines laziness as “an excessive love of rest which makes one avoid every painful duty.” That is exactly what it is.

Now people who work do so either through a taste for it, through self-respect or because of duty. The problem, then, with the really lazy child is to try to stimulate in him a liking for work or awaken in him a legitimate self-respect or develop in him a sense of duty.

Stimulate a liking for work: Sometimes children dislike school work especially because their beginning lessons in a subject were poorly taught. The child was repulsed by initial difficulties. That is often the case in mathematics.

“My son is getting along all right,” a mother explained, “but he is a little weak in Greek.” The fact was that the elements of that language had been badly explained to him. A clever professor took him in hand, showed him that Greek was easier than Latin once the first difficulties of the alphabet, the declensions, and the conjugations had been conquered. The boy won a first in Greek.

Awaken a legitimate self-respect: Some children prefer rest and comfort to all else. The last place bothers them very little. They seem to have no ambition; they are utterly indifferent to success. We need not fear to humiliate them but we must be vigilant not to discourage them. The dunce cap worn too often frequently produces a real dunce. We must be ingenious to find a way to make that pupil succeed in something at least once. This could be a good starting point; then, if nothing comes of it, punishment should follow. We are, it must be remembered, considering the case of a child who does not succeed, not because he lacks the means, but because he does not work.

Develop a sense of duty: “You ought to work because papa and mamma wish it and God asks it.” Bring into play a filial spirit and love of God.

Parents must know correct child psychology. They are the ones who have given him his physiological being. It is up to them to examine whether anything in his physical condition explains his inertia at work; they are in a better position than anyone else to determine this. If the deficiency is psychological, they have the responsibility for seeking into its cause and supplying the appropriate remedy. It is up to them, without substituting their own activity for the child’s to teach him how to will by stimulating his will.

LAZY CHILDREN

CHILDREN who do not work or who work badly are of several types.

There are sickly children: Here the remedy is up to the doctor.

There are poorly endowed children: They are not exactly ill; people can be in splendid health without being very intelligent. Some children have little talent. Rare are the parents who have the courage to recognize it; they are ashamed, and wrongly so, of the weak instrument their offspring has received. They ought to pity the child whose mind is less keen as they pity the child who is crippled or in weak health. Besides with patience they can sometimes achieve excellent results.

Then there are children who are badly trained by their parents or poorly taught by their teachers. They have been allowed to acquire habits of disorder and caprice or they have been roughly treated, overwhelmed with tasks beyond their ability to the point of being crushed by their work; they have been taught neither discipline nor a good method of work. In their case poor pedagogy is to blame. Finally, there are the actually lazy children: They are sufficiently endowed, sufficiently healthy to do normal work, but they refuse to apply themselves, go at their work grudgingly and seek to do the least possible amount of work.

Such evil is frequently traceable to an early childhood marked by too soft a training, an inadequate training in effort and endurance. The child did not start early enough to use profitably the opportunities to exercise liberty, to assume responsibility and to attack work. The parents acted for him instead of trying to form him. They lacked skill in transforming play into work and work into play. They gave him toys which offered him no chance to use his intelligence, his constructive bent, his imagination and creative powers. And whenever they held out the prospect of school life to him they led him to regard it as a task or punishment: “If you are not good at home we will send you to school soon,” instead of “If you are good, we shall be able to send you to school and you will have the joy of beginning to work.”

The child who is poorly trained will get accustomed to cutting his life up into two parts: the principal part belongs to pleasure with the other part thrown in from time to time- those boring moments assigned to work. He should have been impressed with the idea that work is the law of our whole life; it is the unfolding and the extension of our powers and if it brings with it a certain amount of labor, it also brings with it a greater amount of joy which results from overcoming difficulties, acquiring new knowledge and opening up additional possibilities for advancing farther into the field of truth. Recreations, games are but opportunities to relax and to stretch out into the open as it were to grasp new strength for further work.

Work should be presented not as a drudgery but as a conquest. Very early in life the child should be led to envision his future career or mission: “If you want to become an engineer, a sailor, then. . . .” Or “You will be a mother maybe and you will have to keep house.” They should see that papa and mamma find pleasure in work and better still that work pleases God. We must all of us sanctify ourselves in the duty of our state at each moment whether we like it or not. If we like it, so much the better. If we do not like it, then we ought to put greater generosity into it and offer our suffering for a worthy cause, such as the missions, the sanctification of priests and religious, one’s family and many similar good intentions.

Care should be taken not to overdo the reward idea, especially rewards promised as a prize for work requested; that develops calculating hearts. Ask for work for the reasons previously indicated and wait for an opportunity to give an appropriate recompense on some other occasion; it will be so much more a prize since it will be unexpected.

TRAINING IN SINCERITY (1)

THE CHILD is exposed to two sorts of lies: the lie of which he himself is the victim; the lie of which he makes others the victim.

The child has an imagination that never ceases its activity. His first contacts with the world have been with dream powers; he knows nothing yet of reality being much too little to grasp it; he makes a world for himself, a world in which he is king and lord. Even later when he does begin to get in touch with reality, he will use it only as a springboard to project himself into the stars. Dream and reality overlap in his little head without harming each other; they merely embellish each other and he will not be able to recognize the line of separation. That accounts for so much fantasy in his conversation and the astonishing liberty he takes with what we adults hold as true.

Weighed by our standards, it is clearly evident that the child’s stories sound to us like downright inventions. He himself will be taken in by his own game. He will distort with delight, improvise the strangest scenes without shame. Will he always be able to distinguish whether he is the dupe of his imagination or not? Whether he is sincere or not? He is a wonderful builder of castles in the air and he will often endeavor to persuade those about him with the solidity of his edifices. Shall we call him a liar?

Certainly not, rather an actor, an artist, a poet.

Parents and educators know well how advantageously they can utilize this power of recall and creation that children have. Consequently, they know no better way to amuse them and keep them quiet than to tell them stories- stories that are entirely fictitious, tales of magic, picturesque legends in which ghosts, fairies or devils play enchanting roles.

Let us not carry water too generously to the fountain. Yes, certainly, we can tell the little ones charming stories but with moderation. Make the children want them; however, avoid killing their effect by telling too many in close sequence. Children must be able to think over the stories, mediate on them, and through them discover life as it is. If the stories resemble each other or follow in too close succession, the child’s imagination will jumble everything; the profit is considerably lessened.

One precaution is vital: The stories, which will surely always be very appealing and not without some suggestion of complication and mystery, must definitely present virtue in a beautiful light; otherwise, the child will be occupied, entertained and kept interested but he will not be educated or inspired. Since he is possessed of uncompromising logic he will be quick to draw dangerous conclusions if he sees vice rewarded; and the unpleasant results may not be slight. From this standpoint some puppet shows are not so innocent as they appear. We must not be pharisaical but we must know how to foresee danger. With children everything is important.

Even one or the other of La Fontaine’s fables have questionable merit for children. Fortunately, with these fables, the children are much more interested in the activities of the characters than in the moral demonstrated. As one child put it: “Fables are entertaining; it is a pity though that there must always be a tiresome closing at the end.” He was referring to the final two or three lines, the author’s moral tag, which pointed out the lesson to be taught.

Let us not forget that the most beautiful stories are not madeup stories, but stories that really happened. “Did that really happen, mamma?” What a joy to be able to answer yes to that question. Why not take the bulk of our stories, if not exclusively at least mostly, from the lives of the saints, from the Gospel stories? Where can anything more wonderful, more truly wonderful, and at the same time more authentic, be found?

TRAINING IN SINCERITY (2)

THERE is another kind of lie possible for the child, one that has moral significance, and that is the lie told with the actual intention of deceiving.

He may categorically deny his guilt when accused of a fault he has actually committed, or he may invent falsehoods through vanity. In the first instance he is seeking to exonerate himself; in the second, to make himself more important.

Often the reason the child tells the first kind of lie is that the punishment he gets for his little pranks and misdemeanors is out of all proportion to his offense. So many parents punish under the influence of anger that cruel words, exaggerated expressions and sometimes mean acts escape them. The child unable to resist by strength seeks to escape by deceit.

Sometimes the child lies for the sole satisfaction of excusing himself; not to mention the case, which is not at all fantastic, where the child lies for the sake of lying through an unhealthy tendency which is fortunately rare. In cases of this kind, the little offender must be shown how ugly such a fault is, how unworthy of him and how saddening for his parents.

Wise indeed was the mother who used the following technique on her four-year-old daughter the first time she tried to deceive her.

“My little girl has lied to me. This is the first time that anyone has lied in this house; therefore my little one may not have any dessert today because she deserves to be punished and mamma will not eat either because she will not be able to; she feels too sad.”

Even when children are older such a method is good. A certain colonel had entrusted his sixteen-year-old son with the honor of keeping the flag of his regiment in his room; he took the privilege away from him as a punishment for a small lie.

The following counsel ought to be adopted as principles of conduct by those who want to inculcate an appreciation of sincerity in their children:

1. To create and to maintain an atmosphere of loyalty, of uprightness and of utter truth in the home. To instill a horror of sham, of pretense, of playing-up through policy. To encourage simplicity in everything; to take it for granted that no one will seek to pass for what he is not; that if one has done wrong he will admit it. To refrain from upbraiding and to tolerate no tattling. To praise another for his truthfulness particularly if it cost him something.

2. Never to set an example of lying or give any encouragement to lying. No bluff: “When the teacher asks you if you did your homework all alone say yes.” None of that!

3. Never to give a child the impression that we believe him to be a liar, but rather to manifest confidence in him. That will encourage him to be truthful and develop his self-respect.

4. Never to demand any immediate avowal of faults in the presence of others.

5. Never to laugh at any clever little lie told by the child to get out of facing up to a mistake or fault.

6. Never to lose an opportunity of praising for honesty and reproving for duplicity.

The last and most important of all advice is to inculcate in the child the sense of the Divine Presence. Help him to realize that God is everywhere, as the proverb puts it, “God sees a black ant on the blackest marble in the blackest night.” Above all help him to understand that God dwells in the depths of his baptized soul. “You are a living ciborium. You can deceive your parents, your playmates, your friends. God accompanies you everywhere: Be firm out of respect for the divine Guest who does not leave you.”

TRAINING IN SINCERITY (3)

THE best way to encourage a child to be truthful at all times is to use strong positive appeals. 1. Appeal to personal dignity and pride: General de Lamoriciere used to say, “I shall die without ever having told a lie.” And little Guy de Fontgalland, “I have never lied; I have too great a horror of untruth.”

Beneath the doorway of the Church of Santa Maria in Cosmedin, at Rome there is an immense slab of antique marble on which is drawn a face with a wide open mouth-The Mouth of Truth, La bocca della verita. Legend has it that it closes mercilessly on the fingers of liars. The biographer of the Empress Zita relates that when she was a little girl she used to plunge her fingers into the bocca positive of withdrawing them intact because as she explained, “I have never lied.” Is not the reproach, “you are a liar” one of the most devastating?

2. Appeal to Courage: The story of George Washington and the cherry tree is a classic. We all know it. The father appreciated his son’s courage and praised him with the words: “Your honesty is worth more than the most beautiful cherry tree.”

According to Corneille, to be honest is to be a gentleman:

He who calls himself a gentleman and lies as you do Lies when he says it, and will never be one. Is there vice more vile, is there stain more black More unworthy of a man . . .

3. Appeal to Love for Peace: Corneille wrote his play “The Liar” to show that he who deceives others is not happy. Once he has entangled himself in the web of deceit and dissimulation, he needs a good memory for all the tales he has invented. What if he were to give himself away, reveal his deceit? That must be a constant worry.

How truly psychological was the answer of the individual who responded to the question, “Are you really telling the truth” with the statement, “I never lie; I am too busy; lying would befuddle me too much, get me too involved.”

Truthfulness is further a guarantee of success. Sincerity is the best policy; we mistrust one who is known as a sly fellow, a dissembler, without integrity. We are not wary of an upright person. To be honest is the best way to be clever.

In general, a frank admission of guilt disarms. Madame Acarie, an outstanding Christian of the seventeenth century often said to her children, “Even if you would turn the whole house topsy-turvy and destroy it, but admit it when questioned, I should pardon you; however, I will never pardon you the smallest lie. Even if you were as tall as the ceiling I would get some women to help me hold you rather than allow a lie to slip by without punishment; nor would the whole world together succeed in getting me to pardon you.”

The conclusion is evident. I will strive to give my children the Gospel principle, “Let your words be yea, yea; nay, nay.”

The example of that upright soldier General de Maudhuy could well be an inspiration for me; he composed the following soldierprayer for his boys, “My lord, Saint Louis, Sir Bertrand du Guselin et Sir Bayard obtain for me the grace to be brave like you and never to lie either to myself or to others.”

HONESTY AND TACT

To TEACH children to be honest and at the same time to develop in them a feeling for the requirements of tact so that they learn to keep to themselves opinions which might wound or embarrass others is a delicate undertaking.

While a child may occasionally be given to lying, he is, unless perverted, much more inclined to speak the truth. He will blurt it out regardless of place or circumstances. Has he not often won for himself the epithet terrible for no other reason than his disconcerting honesty?

“Godfather, are you going to stay a long time this evening?”

“Oh, just about the usual time. Why?”

“Because, Mamma says there’s just no way of getting you to leave.”

It is necessary but not easy to make the child appreciate where sincerity ends and indiscretion begins; to teach him, without dulling the lustre of his honesty, that it is not always good to say everything just because it is true and that politeness and even charity require us to practice self-restraint and not give free rein to the expression of all feelings.

Inhis play “The Misanthrope,” Moliere gave us the character of Alceste who on the plea of honesty flung the unpleasant truth about others into their very face. He succeeded not in converting them but in bringing shame upon himself and wounding seriously the self-respect of those he insulted with his intemperate frankness.

Always to mean what one says is not the same as saying all one thinks or all one knows.

Human beings are called to live together in society and there can be cases where social life requires that words, those external symbols of thought and feeling, be used outside of strict material meaning or even contrary to it. We should not call such statements lies or we will create a disturbing confusion in the mind of the child who must be thoroughly convinced that a lie is never justifiable.

Much of the difficulty will be cleared away if we make the child understand that the purpose of speech is not only to express the truth but also to foster life in common. We must insist that lying is absolutely forbidden but likewise explain that to defend one’s secrets against the curious, one’s purse against thieves is a legitimate act which need not involve a lie.

Catholic morality is the morality of truth and honesty; but being human and social, it is also the morality of prudence, of justice and of charity.

IS SELF-ACCUSATION OBLIGATORY?

WE HAVE seen the difficulty and the necessity of giving the child a correct notion of the consideration due to politeness and charity in the true spirit of sincerity.

There is yet another difficulty: Many do not sufficiently distinguish the exact limits of sincerity or rather the degree of obligation to speak the entire truth.

“There is no obligation to speak the entire truth to one who has no right to know it. We can use words in their usually accepted meanings: we can allow circumstances to modify the meanings of words: we can allow the hearer to deceivehimself:”

St. Thomas a Becket, Archbishop of Canterbury, had to flee from the anger of Henry II, the King of England. He was pursued by the king’s emissaries. As he rode along on a horse with neither bridle nor saddle he was stopped by armed men. “Are you possibly the Archbishop of Canterbury?”

“Well, my friends,” he answered, “look and judge for yourselves whether or not t his is the equipage of an Archbishop.”

“Deceit and sharp practice!” some will protest. Not at all. Simply a clear knowledge of the exact extent of the duty of truthfulness.

Take a case more directly concerned with education. Here let us presume that those who question have a right to the truth, the parents for example. There is even in this case a principle intervening which does not allow them to push their right to know the truth by demanding an avowal of guilt.

And this principle which all moral theologians recognize and which is founded on great wisdom is that no one is obliged to accuse himself. It is up to the accusers to prove the guilt and to punish accordingly if the guilt is proved. If the culprit does admit guilt it should be a reason for lessening the punishment. But to make self-denunciation a necessity is excessive.

Consider the case of a little child suspected of a fault. “Did you do that?” he is asked. According to correct morality, he cannot be forced to accuse himself. If the child says the whole truth, perfect! He is not obliged to. When he does, he is generous, doing more than he must; he has a right then to marked leniency. “A fault confessed is half pardonned.” But one oversteps his power by commanding him to hide nothing, by telling him that he sins if he does not accuse himself. He does the better thing in accusing himself but commits no fault in not accusing himself; he is guilty of an imperfection but no sin.

Certainly it is better to accustom the child to admit the truth at all times, but to make it a formal duty in every case is to urge the law beyond reason and to confound a generous attitude with an obligatory attitude. One of the most essential points in the formation of the child’s conscience is to teach him to discern what is commanded from what is simply though earnestly counseled.

TRAINING TO CONFIDENCE

CONFIDENCE is necessary. Nothing is so sad as those chasms which divide parents and children, causing them to lead lives practically isolated from each other, with no contact of soul, no intimacy between them.

Difficult moments will come, temptations will arise, decisions will have to be made and action determined. If children have no confidence in their parents, to what dangers they will be exposed!

But this confidence is difficult to get.

One important reason for the difficulty arises from the physical or moral temperament of the parents and of the children. The parents must know how to vanquish their little ones” fears, consent to their advances and not be afraid to give in.

Sometimes this confidence is blocked by other reasons which parents only too often overlook. There are for example parents, who because they are not sufficiently supernatural, openly show more affection for one child than another or give fewer marks of affection to one child. The child who believes himself slighted may turn inward and become sullen and jealous.

Again there are parents who are unbalanced in their punishments or fail to be just. There are others who are woefully ignorant of psychology and as a consequence seriously wound the self-respect of a child. He retaliates by closing up his heart.

A mother once laughed at a candid confidence her little boy revealed to her. He was hurt.

“Papa,” he said, “I don’t love mamma anymore.”

“What’s that! Is it possible? Why not?”

“Why? . . . Well, that’s just how it is. I don’t want to tell her anything anymore . . . never anymore.”

The father tried in vain to reason with him but he remained obstinate.

“No, that’s the end. I don’t love mamma anymore!”

It may have been mere caprice and doubtless it was; time would probably clear it up. Yet, who knows?

Like all fragile things, the child’s heart is easily scarred. And as with all things that have been marred it is not easy to restore the lustre, to efface all the blemishes.

Parents who want their children’s confidence must know how to listen, to listen untiringly. They must be able to show interest in their triumphant little stories as well as in their grievances. They may never ridicule them, never rebuff them through irritation or nervousness and never deceive them.

They must know how to read their children without trying in any way to force an entry into their hearts or consciences; rather, they must be clever at inviting a confidence, dispelling a cloud, evoking a smile, creating a diversion in case of a mishap or tempest. They must show understanding always and make the children feel that they can tell them everything. Not that they approve of everything, but they take everything into consideration; if then adjustments are called for they make them; if rewards are merited, they bestow them. And when they must punish they do so with only the good of the child in mind so that, if the age of the child warrants it, they will explain the reason for their actions.

If in spite of all this, a child still persists in being withdrawn and uncommunicative, reserved as a hermit, there is nothing else to do but pray. Parents should not grow discouraged. Of course they should try to discover whether this reticence is the result of temperament or conscience worries. It might even be necessary for them to turn to someone else for help, someone who will be more successful because more competent. In many cases this could be a priest. It is a great mistake for parents to want to be theonly recipients of their children’s confidence. The child, the adolescent must be able to confide in someone. If we are not the one, and someone else is, let us accept the fact humbly. Such renunciation is very meritorious especially for the mother.

“ALL MY TRUST”

“I GET all my trust from my mother,” Joan of Arc used to say.

Pauline Jaricot, the foundress of the Society for the Propagation of the Faith, could say the same. Every evening her mother used to gaze into her eyes to read the story of the day’s fidelities to God’s law which she had explained to the little girl with much unction.

Something similar took place in the training of the boy Augustine in Malegue’s “The Master is Here:” Never did his mother reprimand him for his failings without remindinghim that he had grieved Little Jesus. “It makes Little Jesus sad when you stamp your foot because you want to go home; when you refuse to leave the table so that it can be set just because you are busy doing a water color in your Christmas drawing book.”

Each day he was expected to learn two Catechism questions:

“Every morning after breakfast in Big Catherine’s kitchen, mamma heard the recitation of the two Catechism questions she had explained the evening before. Tiny sister Christine balancing herself on her yet unsteady legs used to pull at mamma’s dress. That would be just the time when the baby would set up a howl in his cradle.

“Mingled with this morning hubbub were the words of Theology. They were difficult and impressive words. They were like the words grownups use when they don’t want little children to understand what they are saying. It is true that mamma put other words in their place to explain them.”

HAPPY THE MAN TO WHOM GOD GIVES A SAINTLY MOTHER!

THIS VERSE OF LAMARTINE WILL ALWAYS BE PROFOUNDLY TRUE!

Who can tell the mother’s great power to make the Faith take root in the mind of the child and to plant seeds of the most beautiful virtues in his heart. And will we not have to give primary credit to these first lessons of childhood for whatever remains of trust in the mind that has reached maturity and for whatever generosity exists in the souls that have been buffeted by life? The forces of mature age owe much to the lights and inspirations of early age.

Monsignor d”Hulst in one of his famous conferences at Notre Dame in Paris referred to this idea: He said that when a man wants to justify his moral principles he will search his past to find their origin; he will discover that they seem to trace back farther than the beginnings of his conscious thought; they will seem to him as submerged in that distant past when his life was still bound closely to that of his mother and he was as yet unable to sustain himself without the tenderness of her supporting arms.

Should it happen that a child loses his mother at an early age, her memory will remain and protect him. But if she lives what a help she is above all if she has a great soul, a soul that knows how to watch and to pray; to watch without being too obvious about it; for she will not want to awaken haughty resistance; to pray more silently still without however neglecting her duty of good example in prayerfulness.

Ozanam writing to a friend stated that he seemed to benefit almost every moment by the nearly constant presence of his mother.

Let me as a mother examine my conscience. By bringing children into the world I have accepted a sublime mission. To give birth to children is in itself something wonderful. But to rear children, how much more difficult! How close to God I must be to lead all my little ones or my big ones as the case may be to the heights of the divine and to help them live on this high plane.

I must grow. I must educate myself. I must acquire what I lack.

FORMATION OF CHARACTER (1)

CHILDREN are naturally upright. They are weak and easily become afraid like the rest of us but they are upright. They know what they ought to do and what they must not do. They discover that very quickly since they are not only aided by the restraints and prohibitions of their family but also enlightened by the interior verdict of their conscience.

They have no difficulty surmising that if they do not do what is good they will grieve Mamma and Papa and likewise God; furthermore they realize that they will incur a punishment in proportion to their wrong-the principle of the proportion between the sin and the punishment familiar to the Doctors is already implicitly in the heads of these little theologians.

To be sure, it is in no abstract fashion that they acquire such knowledge; they achieve it in situations that are part of their everyday life, to the accompaniment of emotional experiences which are often quite impressive. They feel an inward approval, peace and joy when they have been good and, on the contrary, disquiet, unease, and interior reproach if they have not fulfilled a command. They do not have precise ideas on the subject but an intense feeling; they would not be able to explain the words responsibility, law or liberty; however, a real and profound experience discovers moral reality to them. They were supposed to behave well and they have acted badly, they are in the wrong and deserve to be punished. They feel it, they know it, and they suffer from it. Their childish language, their very silence and embarrassment bear witness to it. The day they learn the correct vocabulary for all of this they will be capable of putting these realities under their proper classification. Before they have ever learned the words for these realities they have lived the realities.

What a precious advantage for the child to be brought in this way into the region of the invisible! The great philosopher Olle-Laprune stresses this point:

The child “who it seems is entirely controlled by sense impressions, he whom visible nature seems to dominate by its charms and the thousand causes for fright it spreads about him, stops respectful and troubled before an invisible law. Invisible also is the Master, invisible too the Judge whose presence this law makes the child feel. God-the august and Sacred Name that he used to pronounce with docility but without comprehension-now becomes for him a mysterious reality whose invisible smile or secret threats are for him the most precious cause for hope or the greatest reason for fear. God-whom he does not see but who sees him, God-whom he knows so little yet by whom he is perfectly known. God-of whom he thinks only at intervals but who is constantly mindful of him. God-all powerful, wise, good completely good, better than a father, better than a mother, perfectly good and just and holy; what care he must take not to displease such a God! what misfortune to offend Him. How good he ought to be himself, how he ought to be truthful, to be just to all, to do good to others because those are the things God loves; those are the things He commands; those are the things God Himself does in His own sublime fashion, and he must resemble God.

“Invisible grandeurs, invisible beauties: the child who enters into life with all his senses open and avid for stimulation of every sort can nevertheless fall in love with these realities that are inaccessible to the senses; he can aspire to know them better some day, somewhere and finally to look forward to the joy of possessing them then as the best reward for good will and the pain of being deprived of them as the worst punishment for an evil will. This is the way the moral and religious life of the child gets its start.”

FORMATION OF CONSCIENCE (2)

THERE is a story that at a certain Honor’s Day a prize was offered to a lazy little fellow by way of consolation; since he did not come in for any victories in achievement, he was given a prize for the best health. He must have had a flair for rhyme for according to the legend this was his response:

I don’t care for the prize I did not really earn;

Why, to get my good health, I did not make a turn.

To be rewarded for something which had caused him no effort, which represented no attainment on his part seemed odious to him. Lazy though he was, he did not lack intelligence or a sense of disinterestedness.

Most children are quicker to understand the notion of punishment as a just consequence for a wrong done.

They are well aware that to be able materially to accomplish an act is not one and the same thing as being permitted to do it. Children very quickly grasp the idea thatMonsignor d”Hulst explained in one of his masterful talks at Notre Dame in Paris:

“We can compare physical necessity to a rigid iron or wooden barrier: As long as it holds out it is impossible to break through; if one does succeed in breaking through it is only because the barrier was knocked down or broken. Duty, moral obligation, is also a barrier, but a spiritual barrier; we can cut through it as we would through a ray of sunshine. Its bright line marks out very clearly the limits beyond which we must not pass; if we happen to violate it, it lets us pass but closes behind us to continue forming a frontier of light between good and evil.”

Whoever does break through this bar of light merits punishment.

How easy it is to profit by the awakenings of morality in the child to help him see clearly into his conscience. We teach him his prayers, the Act of Contrition for example: “O my God, I am very sorry . . .”; he has no trouble understanding; he knows he has acted badly, that he should not have pulled his sister’s hair, disobeyed papa, wanted his own way. He has broken through the bar of light. Even if mother did not see him, someone did and that was God; a kind of inward voice tells him very quietly that he is guilty, that he must make up for it by being sorry, by asking forgiveness, by accepting the little pain that will come to compensate for the pleasure that he had no right to take.

Perhaps it will be necessary to reverse the order of the words, proceeding from the natural to the supernatural. Nothing is simpler: “Regret, sorrow, penance, offense against God, a God infinitely good. . . . How many difficult words; yet their meaning will unfold bit by bit.

Then when the time for confession comes, when he must say “I confess to Almighty God” only the word confess will seem strange, but only the word not the act; the child will have no difficulty making his accusation. Get him into the habit of making his little examination of conscience; he will tell you his “sins” out loud. I “confess” that is I “admit”; he will understand that he ought to admit and admit to God who is so good all the wrong that he has done.

“Through my fault,” I should not have done it. But when I have confessed it, it will disappear, it will be wiped out. And then, of course, I must not do it over again; I must not break through the bar of light again. “Therefore I beseech You . . .” Another difficult word he must learn, but a reality which he does not yet see . . . to be good he must have God’s help. By himself everything would be too difficult! How children do stumble over that “by means of Your holy grace” in their Act of Contrition and sometimes we don’t blame them! Yet beyond the vocabulary so poorly adapted to them lies a reality which is quite within their power to grasp!

FORMATION OF CHARACTER (3)

SOME children, perhaps the majority of them, readily admit their peccadillos.

There are others though who are very proud, very jealous of that little interior kingdom where an intimate voice,

God’s voice, is heard, where they can judge their conduct in the light of what that voice demands; into this domain they want no other person to penetrate.

We must respect a child’s interior life and not seek to enter there without being invited, not try to learn what he does not wish us to know of that interior life, nor try to find out what he hides with a sort of naive but respectable modesty. Neither should we remind him of painful scenes, now past and forgiven, in which he was clearly off his good behavior; there is danger of humiliating him, of causing him to close up. Discretion always!

This virtue will be an absolute necessity later; it will be no easy virtue to practice either. How painful for the father and the mother not to know what happens in the intimate life of their child! True there are indications that everything is all right or that something is wrong: Eyes that can no longer meet one’s gaze, the tilt of the head, the sudden blush of shame, the general appearance that has become less vibrant and more embarrassed may tell much. But there are some young people, boys and girls, who excel in putting on an act and who never reveal their true depths; they remain closed temples.

It is ideal if parents do know everything about their child. They must however be willing to know only a little and in some cases nothing at all.

One very important lesson we must teach a child is not only to observe the number of his peccadillos but the kind. He should learn to distinguish between important matter, a slight infraction, and simple imperfections. It is a sin when one resists a command of God, an imperfection only when one resists a simple desire of God. When there is question of a command of God, he must know too if the command is concerned with something serious, for then the infraction of that command is a mortal sin provided of course that there was full knowledge and real consent.

Most scruples are caused by inadequate and ill-adapted Catechism instruction at the age when the first conscience problems arise.

It is vitally important that we take great care not to cause the child to live in a perpetual fear of sin. Let him learn to be motivated by love. It is easier by far; the child quickly advances beyond attrition or imperfect contrition and finds love and perfect contrition much more understandable.

Souls that have been warped in childhood by exaggerated fears are in danger of living for the rest of their lives with nervous consciences, without freedom of spirit or joy.

We are to form children of God and not future prisoners of an iron-collar religion. The Gospel is not for a convict squad; we are at ease in our Father’s house.

Many defections of later life are due to inadequacies of education. A false conscience is easily made; a soul is easily warped.

EDUCATION IN REVERSE

IT HAS been said that education is the art of developing in a child all the faults he has received from nature and adding all those nature failed to give him.

In this same vein a rather facetious author dared the comment, “Providence gave us parents to show us how we ought not act toward our children.”

Someone else even more caustic drew up an infallible recipe for rearing children badly. All he had to do to determine the ingredients was to observe the behavior of certain parents. Could we not put definite names behind a few of the points ourselves. All we must do is observe; examples unfortunately abound: Here is the infallible recipe:

1. Begin from babyhood to give the child everything he asks for.

2. Discuss his wonderful qualities in his presence.

3. Observe in his presence that it is impossible to correct him.

4. Be sure to have father and mother wrangling in his presence and in disagreement about him.

5. Let him get the idea that his father is only a tyrant and good for nothing but to chastise him.

6. Let the father show little respect for the mother in his presence.

7. Pay no attention to his choice of playmates.

8. Let him read anything he wants.

9. Try to earn much money for him without giving him good principles to live by and let him have money freely.

10. Let him have no supervision during recreation.

11. Punish him for a mere awkwardness and laugh at his real faults.

12. Take his part against teachers at school or in college when they try to make him come to task.

As far as punishment goes for wrongdoing, how many parents prove cowardly and unwise. Consider the mother’s statement, “The only way I can keep my authority is by not exercising it.” What a confession of failure!

Some parents let their children do anything and everything.

Others intervene but in what a clumsy fashion:

Perhap s they are profuse in threats. “If you do that, this will happen.” The child does the wrong and “this” does not happen; the punishment threatened remains hanging in the air. The child knowing what to expect is no longer impressed. We must never make a threat we do not intend to carry out when the infraction has been committed!

Then again they may take to bargaining: “If you do that, I will give you this present.” Or they may stoop to argument to force compliance:

“Louis, take your coat.”

“But, Mamma it’s not worth while.”

“Yes it is; take it because it looks threatening. I looked at the barometer and it’s low.”

“But, Mamma, I tell you it won’t rain . . .”

“Thursday, you didn’t have your coat and you were soaked to the skin.”

“Yes, but Sunday you made me wear it and it didn’t rain . . .”

And so it goes on and on . . .

Then parents sometimes permit coaxing to lead them into multiple concessions: A child may be convalescing and wants something to eat which would harm him.

“No, you many not have it.”

“Oh, yes Mamma, give it to me.”

“You know very well the doctor said you should not have it.”

“Only this once, I won’t ask again.”

“Well, just this once since you want it and because you are sick but it will be your own fault if you get worse.”

Who is to be pitied in all these instances? The child whose every whim is satisfied? Or the parents whose inexperience or weakness lead the child to the greatest dangers?

Lack of character in children is often the outgrowth of lack of character in the parents. One can give only what one has.

IMPORTANT NEVERS

Never make a promise you don’t intend to keep. It brings discredit on you and teaches your child to lie. Never shout. To rear a child you must control him. Now we are controlled only by qualities we do not have ourselves, a talent beyond our reach. If there is one quality a child does not possesses, it is calm, which is the direct opposite of the extreme mobility of his nature, his impulsive impressionability. Calmness controls him, not shouting.

Never deceive: “Give me your whistle; you will see what fine music I can make.” The child with no defence gives you his whistle and you put it in your pocket: “Now with the whistle there, you can’t annoy us anymore.”

Or if you want the child to take some disagreeable medicine, you maysay “Oh but this is good! Drink it, you will see.” The child sips it and pushes away the deceiving cup. You have failed him in your words. A few scenes of this kind and the child will lose all confidence in those who speak to him. If we wish to be believed, we must not abuse belief.

Never do yourself what the child with a little time and ingenuity can do himself otherwise he will never learn to take the initiative. On the contrary, confront him as soon as possible and as often as possible with tasks that are beyond him but which are capable of challenging him a bit so that he learns to gauge his strength, to remain humble because of non-success and eager for struggle because he wants to conquer the obstacle.

Never tolerate backtalk to a command, or grumbling, or any argument about it. Never take back a prohibition especially if the child tries to work its recall by tears and coy manoeuvering.

Never present a task to the child as beyond his capabilities as “Could you do that? Don’t you think you would be afraid to do that?”-so that he gets the idea of a possible sidetracking of the issue or a sliding out of it altogether. No, tell him squarely what to do as if it were just an ordinary simple matter. “Do this. Go there please.” In this way the child will not question his ability to do what is asked. If he says he can’t do it or shows that he can’t do it, there will be time enough to chide him for his cowardice or lack of nerve.

Never seem to attach importance to little scratches, bumps, and bruises he gets (naturally proper attention should be paid to real needs). The child often cries when he hurts himself just to get attention, being pitied makes him a more interesting individual. If you do not appear excited, he will understand that it is useless to make a tragedy of the affair. Care for the hurts that need care, and far from magnifying the case, explain that it isn’t anything much: “You will have many others! Try to have more nerve about it!” The child grows calm.

Never inflict a humiliating punishment in the presence of others, except in the rare case that might need it to punish an ineradicable pride. Aside from such a case, however, you would be degrading a child beyond reason: “Look how ugly he is!” “How clumsy you are! etc. . . . Or what is worse-”Look at your brother, see how good he is!” Such comparisons are odious and only excite jealousy.

Never flatter either: “Isn’t he darling!” The child knows it only too well. Encourage him but don’t praise him. To praise him is to admire him for an advantage he has without merit on his part; to encourage him is to congratulate him on meritorious effort. Never tolerate the adulations of people who visit you either.

TRAINING THE ADOLESCENT

To TRAIN little ones is difficult enough. When these little ones grow up the difficulty of educating them grows with them.

There is a particular age-between thirteen and seventeen- when the rise of new energies generally produces a crisis. The child is no longer a child; neither is he a grown-up. He is in a period of transition which we must not fear but which we must consider sympathetically; it is a time when we should be ever ready to come to his help at opportune moments.

It is also a time when restraints weigh upon him. Until now the child did not distinguish his individual identity much from those about him. What they thought and felt he was satisfied to feel and think in perfect harmony. But now his personality is emerging. Before this it was indistinct. Oh yes, at times traits of it would shine out and predict the future character but it was only a faint sketch. Now the design takes form and definite lines.

It is thrilling to see the dawn of manhood and womanhood in the young as they rise up to meet life. It is depressing to think of possible deformations! A design can so easily change into a caricature!

There is no question now of a dead image on inert paper! We are concerned with an animated potentiality, with an intense dynamism-a soul seeking itself. It is like a person lost in the night groping about here and there to find the right road. We can speak to the adolescent, guide him, but nothing takes the place of personal experience and it means much to allow the young the liberty to try their luck.

Even as a baby, as soon as he takes his first steps, the child uses all its baby strength to pull away from its mother. The mother had until then held him in her arms. But one day she put him down so that he could learn to stand and to put one foot before the other. As soon as he learnt this new game the little one is ready for his first expedition. And what mother, even though she rejoices at the prowess of the young explorer, does not suffer when she realizes that her arms and her heart can no longer hold back this little conqueror already setting out to meet life?

As the adolescent boy or girl grows older the span of their investigation widens. There is the immense field of their own individuality. How many realities, how many mysteries they encounter at every step! Fortunate that youth who, avid until now to ask questions, remains willing to ask some still! He wants to learn certainly, even more than ever before, only he wants to learn by himself so he withdraws into himself to solve his problems. Who could ever know as he does his little domain; he is jealous of it; he closes his arms about his riches; he yields to no one the right to violate his treasure.

We should not be astonished at this but stimulate their research unobtrusively, provide them, without appearing to do so, with the means to solve their problems; we should not pry into their confidence but rather cleverly inspire and provoke it. Let them realize that mother and father themselves formerly discovered this whole world that challenges their discovery; that mother and father can therefore serve as prudent but well-informed advisers to the young novices of life.

Then there is the whole world outside of themselves-the frame of their life, their surroundings, and other people; that is quite a universe. What is the significance of such a smile, such a silence, such an action? They thought everyone was good-that was a mistake! They thought that life was conquered without difficulty-they have to struggle hard: How much work to learn the least thing!

And then the whole domain of religion. It was all so simple formerly. Now there are problems on every side. And love? This whole transformation that they sense within themselves? Those impulses of feeling? Those sensations never before experienced, organic phenomena whose nature and reason they do not know?

We need great sympathy before their laborious and often worried seeking and also much vigilance mingled with a gentle firmness, high moral principles, and exceptional psychological insight almost bordering on prophecy. Above all we need much prayer.

GIRLS VERSUS BOYS (1)

THE training of adolescence ought to make much allowance for the difference between the sexes and for the difference of individual temperaments within each sex.

The boy as he grows older becomes more and more individualistic. Everything exists for him. His little person makes itself conspicuous without fear. He loves to make noise not only because of his love for activity but also to assert his presence. In games he likes to direct and if he envisions the future he always sees himself in the role of a leader. . . .

He must be taught that other people exist and what is more, that he has the duty not only to refrain from harming them but to help them. Every opportunity for him to render service should be used to advantage-to take care of his little sisters gallantly and willingly, to run on errands for father or mother or someone else in the household. The boy and later the man is a great egoist. It is wise to counteract very early this tendency of his to make himself the center of interest, to turn his attention to careers of devoted self-sacrifice, to impress him with the repercussions his actions have upon others and to enlighten him on his duty to give much since he has received much and to penetrate him with the realization that he has a responsibility toward his own.

The little girl as she advances toward womanhood-and this begins quite early-very quickly becomes conscious of herself as part of a relationship. She feels herself physically weaker than her brothers and her powers of feeling orientate her even at that early age whether she is aware of it or not, toward love-in the beginning toward the couple “mamma and baby” but later toward the couple “husband and wife.”

Much less individualistic than the boy-although she can be so in her own way and sometimes fiercely so-she is above all family-minded. She loves to rock the baby, to help her mother. If she prefers one study more than another, history, literature or mathematics, it is more often because of the teacher who teaches it than the subject itself. Early in the little girl’s life are verified the words of George Sand concerning woman, “Behind the things that she loves there is always someone.”

Because of the complexities of feeling, the education of the adolescent girl is more delicate and more difficult than the education of the adolescent boy. The boy is more heavy, more blunt, more matter of fact, less given to fine distinctions; the phenomena of puberty are more tardy in him and are generally not at all or scarcely ever accompanied by any fits of feeling but rather a mere hunger for sensations: he is still the individualist.

Because of her periods, a phenomenon which often troubles the adolescent girl even after its mysterious significance has been chastely and adequately explained to her, she becomes more curious and uneasy about all that bears on the problem of life and is much more susceptible to emotional unbalance and the fascination of abandoning herself to daydreams than a boy of her age. If the adolescent boy is healthy, he doesn’t indulge in dreaming; he makes noise or pulls all kinds of pranks. The girl, even when she loves study, loves still other things and she is much attracted by the perspective of an eventual giving of herself.

Beautiful is the task of giving her a clear idea of her essential vocation; to guard her from false notions; to get her to be diligent in the tasks of the moment, her house duties and school assignments; to direct her need for unreserved giving so that what is but a vague instinct within her becomes translated into terms of clear duty; to impress her with the immense responsibility of having been chosen to give life unless God chooses her to renounce this power, for love of Him, in virginity.

GIRLS VERSUS BOYS (2)

EVERYDAY experiences give many examples of the distinctive differences between the two sexes especially during their adolescence: the egocentric interests of the boy, the self-radiating tendencies of the girl. The boy thinks about his future exploits; the girl dreams of possible children. In the one, love of glory; in the other love of love itself.

The following bit of conversation between two sisters is in itself an amusing commentary on feminine adolescent psychology.

“What are you thinking of,” the twelve year old asked her fifteen year old sister, “of your future husband?”

“A husband,” protested the elder, “I am too young. I have a lot of time before I begin thinking of a husband!”

“Well then what are you thinking about?”

“I was planning what kind of trimmings I would have on my wedding dress.”

Even when we take into account the differences created by nature between boys and girls, we still must make allowances for different temperaments within the sexes. Each child lives in a world of his own, in a world that is strangely different from the world of those about him. With one individual maternal influence will have greater force; with another, paternal influence. One child may have vigorous health, whereas another is delicate. In the one a melancholy temperament may predominate; in another, the exact opposite, the sanguinic with extrovert tendencies conspicuous. One child may be calm and poised; another, a little bundle of nerves . . . Consequently, if the educator has but one method of dealing with all, a single and only method, he can expect to meet with disappointments.

However in providing for these individual differences a real problem must be faced: It is not sufficient to correct the one child and refrain from correcting the other; to congratulate the one and ignore the success of the other and so on through all the possible variations that might be in order. All this must be done while preserving the impression of treating all alike. If children perceive, as they sometimes do with reason, that there is partiality shown to one or other of the family, authority is broken down, jealousy enters and soon constant wrangling results.

The ideal is to maintain poise, serenity, evenness of temper, and a steadiness of behavior that nothing can upset.

Superiors of religious orders are advised to make use of a practice which is beneficial for all-an honest examination periodically of their faithful fulfilment of the trust confided to them. Have I given evidence of any partiality or any unjustifiable toleration of wrong? Have I seen to it that the rules have been observed, the ways of customs of the order and its holy traditions held in honor?

In what way are things not going as they should? One can pass quickly over what is as it should be, thanking God humbly for it but direct attention by choice to what is defective and faulty to determine to make the necessary corrections either in one’s person or one’s work. Mussolini’s comment has a point here: “It is useless to tell me about what is going along well. Speak to me immediately of what is going badly.”

If only parents would make it a habit to practice this counsel suggested to monks: Stop a moment to observe the train pass; look to see if the lighting functions, if the wheels are well oiled, if there is any need to fear for the connections. People do that from time to time in regard to their personal life and we call it a Retreat. It is strongly advisable to make a retreat to examine oneself on the conduct and management of the home, of one’s profession; such a retreat should be sufficiently frequent to prevent painful surprises.

Our Lord said that when one wishes to build a tower, he sits down to calculate the cost and requirements for a solid structure. What a tower is the Christian home! That is something to construct! How necessary are foundations that will not crumble, materials that will hold solidly! How essential an able contractor, attention to every detail, care to check every stone, exactitude in the measurements for every story . . . !

Perhaps I have forgotten to sit down . . . to calculate . . . to get on my knees. There is still time!

A FATHER’S LETTER

RACINE the great classic dramatist wrote a letter to his son urging him to complete fidelity in his religious duties and to love for the interior life.

“You beg me to pray for you. If my prayers were good for anything you would soon be a perfect Christian, who hoped for nothing with more ardor than for his eternal salvation. But remember, my Son, that the father and mother pray in vain for their children if the children do not remember the training their parents gave them. Remember, my Son, that you are a Christian, and think of all that character makes of obligation for you, all the passions it requires you to renounce. For what would it benefit you to acquire the esteem of men if you would jeopardize your soul? It will be the height of my joy to see you working out your salvation. I hope for it by the grace of Our Lord.”

When Racine was thirty-eight and at the height of his power, his religious directors through the misguided zeal of their Jansenistic spirit commanded him to give up writing for the theatre which he did with untold pain. Consequently, when he spoke to his son of the practice of renunciation, he could speak with authority.

Especially sensitive to physical suffering, he accepted sickness humbly and generously: “I have never had the strength to do penance; what an advantage then for me that God has had the mercy to send me this.”

It is a great grace for children to have a father who teaches the divine law with firmness, and who moreover lives this divine life, joining personal example to precept.

Am I sufficiently attentive to give my children the supernatural equipment they need? Am I sufficiently careful about that still more important duty of giving them a good example always and in everything.

If there was too much severity in Racine’s manner it was due to his own training at Port-Royal, the Jansenist center. When his brother Lionval was only five years old he insisted that he would never go to the theatre for fear of being damned. Madelon, at ten years had to observe Lent to the very end even though she felt ill because of it. The mother kept them in step. Did she not command young Louis Racine who had indulged in writing about twelve stanzas of poetry on the death of a dog to betake himself to Boileau for a good scolding?

There must be no exaggeration in the exercise of authority; it would no longer be Christian in character but an erroneous way of understanding the morality and perfection of the Gospel. It is essential to retain a zealous will on the part of the children and a courageous practice of generosity. We must however always remember that they are children and not impose upon them too heavy a yoke thereby running the danger of giving them an incorrect idea of religion or of disgusting them even with its most balanced practice.

We must be mindful too that some day they will be confronted with fearful difficulties. They will need a training that is not harsh but strong otherwise we can fear shipwreck or at least ineffective returns.

If my profession or my health prevent me from fasting, am I careful to get a dispensation, to substitute another mortification for it, to manifest an exemplary moderation on all occasions, in general, a real detachment from food and body comforts; to deny myself amusements that might prove dangerous?

MISUNDERSTOOD CHILDREN

ANDRE BERGE in his book on “Bewildered Youth” gives us the story of a young man who had been left completely to himself by his parents. Taken up with their own affairs, business and pleasure, these parents let their son grow up with no concern at all for his soul, his ambitions, his difficulties, his temptations, his failings.

At first, the youth relished this liberty which he interpreted as reserve on the part of his parents. But soon he came to realize that it was nothing more than cowardice, abandonment of duty and flagrant desertion of obligation on their part; he was living in the home but was not of the home—a mere boarder in a hotel. As soon as he was out of his childhood, they showed no more care for him; he found himself confronting life alone, confused, cut off. He should have been able to expect counsel, affection, protection, light. Nothing of the sort did he receive. Instead he met with selfishness; faced by loneliness, life began to pall upon him; he had no one to untangle his problems, no one to point out definite steps to follow on the bewildering way.

Unable to bear living any longer in this way with no vital ties binding him to those who should have been nearest to him, he decided to break all connections, to go away. Material separation from his own would but serve to accentuate the separation of their souls.

He left this note as an explanation of his conduct and a reproach for theirs:

“To my parents,

“Why do you desert me? You do not understand that I am stifled between these walls and that my heart is bursting. Do you not understand that I am growing up and that life is calling me, that I am alone all day with its voice? You who could have so lovingly directed me in life, why do you abandon me?

“Well, so much the worse, I will meet life alone. I am so far from you already through your fault.”

How heavy the obligations of parents! Let us not consider now the case of grossly selfish parents as described in the preceding story. We shall consider parents who are concerned about accomplishing their mission.

Are they not in danger of two extremes in the fulfilment of their duty: either to exaggerate their control or to exaggerate their reserve.

If they try to exercise too much control over the young adventurers in freedom who are making ready for their first flights will they not incur the blame of tyranny, excessive watchfulness and supervision?

If, on the other hand, they try to avoid this reproach, are they not going to lack firmness? By trying to win confidence through a gentleness that gives free rein are they not going to see all the restraints which they deem good broken down and the advice they judge opportune utterly ignored?

How have I succeeded in this problem of training? Do I steer my bark with proper mastery? The reefs are many; a solid craft is needed, a steady hand at the helm. Am I acquainted with the route, the true merits of my crew?

My God grant me the grace to know how to rear my little world as you want me to; to know how to form each of my children according to Your plans; to know how to attain balance in sharpness, firmness and restraint. Grant that the youth formed in my home may never be confused, lost before life but rather know always where to find counsel, support, the warmth of love and guidance, an understanding and patient heart that can give help with enlightened insight.

A DEFAULTING FATHER

A RELIGIOUS was trying to extricate a young man of twenty-two from a distressing and almost insurmountable difficulty; the young man wrote him the following explanation for falling so low:

“ . . . I was endowed as any normal person and would have been able to succeed in my studies as anyone else but for some wretched habits-and I say these words, trembling with a powerless rage-wretched habits which came to poison the work of God. A cousin and a friend bear with me the responsibility for the first steps toward those devastating sensations that enkindled the odious flame which in turn upset my mental and physical health. No more willpower or rather no more strength despite good will; no more memory; all these results followed in succession. I blame my parents especially my father who had given up all religious practices. He never spoke to me with a view to understanding me; never did we have the least conversation which could indicate any common bond of ideas or feeling; he fed my body, that is all. . . .”

What a terrible indictment are these words! How they prove the necessity of watching the associations of the children, their work, the reasons for their laziness; the importance of keeping their confidence, of knowing how to win that confidence; of showing them understanding and a willingness to help; of giving them an assurance of victory.

“I was endowed as any normal person and would have been able to succeed.” Nothing more readily weakens the resilience of the powers of the mind and the heart than lust. What the young man said is exactly true; he had abandoned himself to impurity, he lost the keenness of his intelligence, the retentiveness of his memory and a relish for effort. Even grave physical injuries sometimes result. “Devastating sensations” and “the odious flame” quickly depleted and consumed vital energies.

“A cousin and a friend.” How absolutely necessary is vigilance over the friendships that circumstances and relationships often provide, and sometimes alas that certain corrupted individuals seek to establish to give vent to their secret taste for perversion.

If the child had confided in someone at the onset of the first serious difficulties! But nothing in the attitude of the parents invited confidence, a request for enlightenment, a humble avowal of imprudence or faults already committed. How many children, how many youths yearn to speak! Someone, their father or mother or a director must take the first step. Nothing happens. Nobody imagines that they want help; nobody deigns to interest themselves in them. The mother is absorbed in her worldliness or completely oblivious of their needs; the father is wrapped up in his business; the spiritual director if they have one at all does not find the time or the means to help . . .

And the child, the young boy or the young girl carries the weight of inward suffering and is stifled by it.

“I blame my parents . . . never did my father speak to me with a view to understanding me; never did we have the least conversation which could indicate any common bond of ideas or feeling; he fed my body, that is all.”

Did this father realize that even while he was nourishing the body of his son, he was contributing to the death of his soul by a double sin of omission! He did not help his son in his moral life when he needed it; he gave him a very bad example by openly abandoning the Christian law.

Such sins are paid for and paid for painfully. How prevent lack of training and mistakes of training from producing their disastrous effects?

To develop the body is fine, commendable, and a duty. Even more important is it to develop the soul, to protect it, to strengthen it, to uplift it.

A MOTHER TO HER SON

WHEN Leon Bloy was about twenty years old, he fell into one of those crises not uncommon in youth, particularly in youth whose environment brings contact with unbelievers and persons of loose morals, and he drifted from his religion. He was wretchedly unhappy besides, unhappy because of the very direction he was taking; but an involuntary confusion and probably a certain amount of wilful pride prevented him from breaking with doubt to return to the path of light.

The mother read her son’s soul clearly. She did not reproach him, nor did she speak to him exclusively nor immediately of his religious problem; she attributed his interior troubles to different causes of an inferior order which more than likely played a part in his wretchedness. She wrote to him:

“How is it my dear child that you do not write to us. I feel heavy hearted because of it for I am sure that you do not realize what is taking place in your poor soul; all kinds of things are conflicting within it-it is ardent and lacks the nourishment proper to it; you turn from one side to the other and you cannot tell what really bothers you. Ah! poor child, be calm, reflect. It is not that you feel your future lost or compromised; at your age one cannot have established his future or despaired of it; it is not for most persons your age still uncertain. No, it is not that, Your work, your studies do not show sufficient progress? Why? Perhaps because you want to do too many things at once; you are too impatient. No, not that either? Your mind is willing enough but your heart and your soul are suffering; they have so many yearnings that you are scarcely aware of, and their unease and their suffering react upon your mind sapping from it necessary strength and attention.

“You are suffering, you are unhappy. I feel all that you experience and yet I am powerless to console you, to encourage you much as I should love to do so. Ah! that we might have the same convictions! Why have you rejected the faith of your childhood without a profound examination of your reason for and against it? The statements of those whom faith irritates or who have no religion for lack of instruction have made an impression on your young imagination; but just the same your heart needs a center that it will never find on earth. It is God, it is the infinite you need and all your yearnings are driving you there. You belong to that select number of elect to whom God communicates Himself and in whose regard He is prodigal of his love when once they have consented to humble themselves by submittingto the obscurities of faith.”

What a frightening duty mothers have! To bring forth the bodies of their children is a beautiful ministry; to rear their souls is an even greater ministry.

What anguish for a mother when a grown child, a son in early manhood or a daughter in early womanhood cuts loose from faith, and considers God lightly! If ever she feels that she has lost her hold over her son or daughter, that they are escaping her, it is when she sees them follow the paths of doubt or fall under the spell of the intoxicating enchantments of flirtation.

A mother must continue to bring forth her children all her life. In this sense they are always her little ones. Not that she makes them feel their bonds of dependence any longer but that she watches over them. And she prays! Except for a brief reminder from time to time, the clear statement of her hopes joined to the definite but loving message of the father, an occasional letter in which true principles are recalled, the chief role of a mother whose adult child has strayed is prayer, patient waiting and sacrifice-the persevering effort to become a saint.

What if she were to die before she sees the return of the Prodigal? What if the Child were to die before she has seen him “return”?

She should not be discouraged. Can we know the mystery of souls? Can we know what takes place in the last moments? Can we know what goes on within when the exterior reveals nothing? Can we know the value of a mother’s tears? Monica will continue to the end of time to convert Augustine; but Monica must be a saint.

TICK TOCK

THE mother of Cardinal Vaughan had fourteen children -eight boys and six girls. Remarkable educator that she was, she believed that she owed the best part of her time to her little world.

The children’s special room looked like the nave of a Church for each little boy and girl had his statue to care for and they never failed to put flowers before it on special occasions.

With what art this mother settled a quarrelsome boy or a vain or untruthful little girl! With the littlest ones she was not afraid to become a little one and like them to sit on the ground. Thus, placed on their level, as the biography of her Jesuit son expresses it, she used to put her watch to their ears and explain to them that some day God would stop the tick tock of their lives and that He would call to Himself in heaven His children whom He had lent to earth.

In the course of the day, Mrs. Vaughan loved to pick our one or other of her band, preferably two, chosen on the basis of their earnest efforts or some particular need for improvement, and make a visit to Church. Yes, they should pray at home too; they had God in their hearts; but in each village or in each section of town, there is a special house generally of stone where Our Lord lives as He once lived at Nazareth except that now He remains hidden under the appearances of a little Host. She explained to them that prayer consists not in reciting set words but in conversing with Jesus. And if they had been very very good she would let them kiss the altar cloth and sometimes the altar itself, a favor the children regarded as most precious. When they had beautiful flowers in their green house they brought them to Church; happy and proud were the ones who were entrusted with delivering the bouquets or the vases of flowers!

Besides the visits made to “Jesus, the Head” there were also visits to the “members of Jesus,” “What you do to the least of My brethren you do to me.” And Mrs. Vaughan explained to each child according to its capacity to understand the great duty of charity and the reason for this duty. She did not hesitate to take them into sordid homes. Sometimes people were horrified to see her take the children to see the sick who suffered from a contagious disease. Wasn’t she afraid her children would contract it? But kind, firm Mrs. Vaughan did not allow herself to be the least disturbed by such comments. “Sickness? Well if one of them contracted a sickness while visiting the poor, that would still not be too high a price to pay for Christian charity. Besides God will protect my children much better than motherlove can.”

Here was true formation in piety, true formation in charity.

Here too was encouragement to follow a high ideal.

Herbert, the eldest of the boys, was once quite concerned over a hunting trip that the weather threatened to spoil. “Pray mamma,” he said, “that we have good weather!”

And Mrs. Vaughan more concerned to lift her son’s soul than to secure him a pleasurable time answered smilingly, “I shall pray that you will be a priest!” How the boy took such an answer at the moment is not recorded. We do know this:

Herbert was . . . the future Cardinal!

Mrs. Vaughan also gave her children an appreciation of the fine arts. She herself played the harp delightfully. From time to time she gathered her household about her for a gala time playing, singing, and a bit of mimicry; she always used the occasion to remind the children that there are other melodies and other joys more beautiful than those of earth.

TRAINING IN GENEROSITY

THE child is instinctively selfish, but he easily learns generosity.

His training should be directed toward it.

Little Rose of Lima’s childhood was marked by a series of accidents, maladies, and sufferings which the crude treatment of that time often aggravated rather than relieved. When only three months old she crushed her thumb under a trunk lid and the nail had to be removed. She also had to undergo an ear operation which was followed by a skin disease that began on her head; her mother treated it with a salve which burnt her so severely that the surgeon had to treat her for weeks, removing proud flesh so that the healthy skin could heal.

Thanks to her mother’s exhortations, this little girl of four years bore the cruel pain with an astonishing calmness and in perfect silence. Are not the staggering mortifications we see her imposing on herself later due to her early training?

Like all little girls, she was vain and took considerable care of her hair which was very beautiful. Her brother used to throw mud at it and get it all dirty just to tease her. Rose became very angry, but the brother, recalling perhaps some sermon he had heard, assumed a preaching tone on one of these occasions and said to her solemnly, “Take care, vanity will be your ruin; the curled hair of girls are cords from hell which bind the hearts of men and drag them into the eternal flames.”

Rose did not answer, but bit by bit began to understand . . . and she detached herself. That detachment prepared her for greater sacrifices and soon we see her offering her virginity to God.

Jacqueline was another little girl, a little girl of our own day, who learned the lesson of sacrifice. She was sick and suffering much. “Oh, I believe nobody has ever had pain like mine!”

“Where does it hurt?” she w as asked.

“In my stomach, in my head, everywhere!”

“Think of St. Francis who had a red hot iron applied to his eyes as a treatment . . .”

This time her attention was caught. She forgot her own misery to sympathize with her dear saint whom people had hurt.

“Did they cure him after all that?”

Guy de Fontgalland had to have many strychnine injections in his leg.

“Offer it to Jesus, my darling,” suggested his mother. “He was crowned with thorns for love of you.”

“Oh yes, that is true and He kept the thorns in His head while they quickly removed the needle from my leg.”

A mother had three children; the oldest was four, the second, three, and the baby, twenty months. It was Good Friday. Why not encourage them to offer Jesus on the Cross some little sacrifice which would cost them a little?

“My children, I will not deprive you of your chocolate candy at lunch today; but little girls who love Jesus will know themselves how to sacrifice their chocolate.”

She made no further reference to it. None of the children answered. That evening the mother was very much moved to see the three chocolate bars at the foot of the Crucifix. Our Lord must have smiled at the childish offering; one of the candy bars bore the teeth marks of the baby who had hesitated before the offering and begun to nibble on her chocolate.

These stories of successful lessons in generosity are encouraging. What others have achieved, can I not achieve too?

MOTHERS AND VOCATIONS

WHEN Motta was elected to the Swiss Federal Council his first act was to sendthis telegram to his mother: “To my venerated mother, who remaining a widow while I was still a child, engraved in my heart the concept of duty by teaching me that duty dominates all interests, all selfishness, all other concerns.”

To be sure God remains the Master of vocations. Motta was not entering upon Holy Orders. His providential position was to be quite different and very fruitful besides.

What is certain is that never-or shall we say rarely, very rarely-is a vocation born into a family unless the mother has inculcated in her children a sense of duty and a habit of sacrifice. Of course, all children who receive a strong supernatural training do not enter the priesthood or religious life, but no child enters upon any career calling for great self-sacrifice, prescinding some unusual influence which is rare, if he does not acquire early in life a solid spirit of renunciation and generosity in the accomplishment of duty.

On the other hand, where mothers know how to go about teaching and above all practicing complete fidelity to duty and total renunciation, where they always put the supernatural love of God before material love for their children, Our Lord finds it easy to choose His privileged souls.

Monsignor d”Hulst said many a time to Abbe Leprince, “It takes a truly Christian mother to make a good priest. The seminary polishes him off but does not give him the substance, the sacerdotal spirit.”

All things considered, that holds true for novitiates and religious life. Nothing replaces family training, above all the influence of the mother. But that training and that influence must be wholly supernatural.

Madame Acarie, foundress of a French Carmelite Convent where she was known as Sister Marie of the Incarnation, strove earnestly to rear her six childrenfor God. She explained to them: “I would not hesitate to love a strange child more than you if his love for God were greater than yours.”

However, individual free will always remains and God is Always Master of His gifts. That thought ought to calm the fear-unjustifiable as it is but humanly understandable-of certain mothers who think, “If I conduct my home along lines too thoroughly Christian, if I instill into my children too strong a habit of the virtues which lead to total renunciation, to an all embracing zeal, I shall see my sons and daughters renouncing marriage one by one and setting off for the priesthood or the convent.”

If that were to happen, where would be the harm? But that rarely happens in practice. Furthermore, is marriage a state of life that does not require a sense of duty or abnegation?

Let there be no anxiety on this score but perfect peace. The important thing now is not that God might choose soand-so but that the home give Our Lord maximum glory; that each child whatever its destiny serve an apprenticeship in generosity and the true spirit of the Gospel. Everything else as far as the future is concerned should be left to God.

PRIESTS IN THE FAMILY

THE supreme honor for Christian families is to give priests to God. The father can do much to inspire a priestly vocation but the mother who is often closer to the children can do more. For this she needs a priestly soul, a gift that is not so rare in mothers as one might believe. “There are,” said Rene Bazin, “mothers who have a priestly soul and they give it to their children.”

The lack of priests is a terrible sickness of the world today, a sickness that is growing worse. The war has depleted their number and the absence of priestly influence in many parishes before and during the war has damaged more than one vocation.

It is necessary that Christian families desire to give priests to the Church; that they beg God for the grace to prepare to the best of their ability for the eventual flowering of the priesthood.

Christian families should desire to give priests: Such a desire presupposes a profound esteem for the priesthood on the part of the parents. What a pity it is when a child who broaches the subject of becoming a priest meets with his father’s unreasonable anger, “If you mention vocation to me again, I”m going to strangle your confessor for it!” Can there be any greater blessing than a priest in a family?

Christian families should pray: A priestly vocation is a supernatural favor; prayer is essential to obtain it. God’s gifts are free, that is true, but we know that He makes some of His choice graces depend upon the prayers of His friends.

Christian families should prepare for vocations: Parents should know how to detect the germs of a vocation. “I hear the grain growing,” said an old peasant as he walked about in his field. No one can better read the soul of a child than the mother. “I know him through and through as if I had made him.” This rather common but profound statement expresses very well the sort of intuition mothers have for all that concerns their child. Although the boy himself may not have discovered the divine germ, the mother, if she is keen and close to God, has been able to discern it.

How then help this germ to bud?

Help it gently, for there must be no pressure brought to bear upon the child. Suggest, yes; force, no.

Inspire great esteem for the priesthood. Consider a priest’s visit to the home as a privilege and a festive occasion. “From the age of seven,” declared Father Olier, the founder of the Sulpicians, “I had such an esteem for a priest that in my simple childish mind I believed them no longer human.” When asked the source of his great esteem, he said, “From my father and my mother.”

“Dear child, since you love to go to church so much and since you are so good in public speaking, you ought to become a priest,” suggested the father to his son, the future martyr, Blessed Perboyre.

Often the mother has quicker insight and longer-ranged vision. The father sometimes resists the vocation of his child. Such was the case with Saint Francis de Sales and Saint Alphonsus Ligouri. The father of Saint Alphonsus refused to speak to him for a whole year.

Sometimes though the father is the one who inspires the love for the priesthood. At the time of the confiscation of Church property in 1905 in France, a father perched his son on his shoulders to watch the pillage of the churches to incite in him a desire to become a defender of the Church later and if possible a priest.

Madame de Quelen did not hesitate to bring her son to the prison of the Carmelite priests to visit the priests interned there. The bishop later chose the Church of this Carmelite prison for his See.

If a child seems drawn to the priesthood show him the high motives that can lead him to embrace such a calling- the desire to imitate Our Lord and the desire to save souls.

What a reward the parents reap at their son’s ordination or on the day of their death. That repays them for all the sacrifices they willingly made; repays them with interest.

THE MOTHER OF A SAINT

MADAME DE BOISY, the mother of Saint Francis de Sales, brought many precious virtues with her to the chateau of Thorens in Savoy where her husband lived. Unassuming and kind, she considered the village households around her estate almost as part of her family; she showed concern for their poverty and sufferings, settled their differences and exercised a control over them that was highly successful for the simple reason that she was careful not to make a show of it. Watchful to see that her servants were truly a part of the family, she encouraged them, without constraining them, to practice their faith and offered to read spiritual books to them herself after the evening meal; she invited all of them to attend the family prayer.

Unfortunately her marriage promised to be sterile. At Annecy in a church dedicated to Our Lady of Liesse, she begged God to give her a son, promising to “exercise all her care to make him worthy of heaven.” On August 1567, Francis de Sales was born. He was so frail a child that all feared for his life.

As he grew older, the child had no greater delight than to show kindness to the unfortunate and to distribute among the poor the delicacies his mother gave him for this purpose. It is said of him that by way of thanking his mother he promisedher, “When I am my own master, I will give you a beautiful red silk dress every year.”

At the same time she was training her little boy to almsgiving, Madame de Sales was also educating him to love of God and to sacrifice.

Soon the hour of separation struck. The child had to leave for the school of La Roche and later for the College at Annecy. He was beloved by all, excused the faults of his comrades and one day even took a whipping in place of his cousin Gaspard de Sales. Shortly after his First Holy Communion he told his mother that he wanted to receive the tonsure some day and that therefore she ought to have his beautiful blond curls cut now.

Francis had two brothers. To characterize them and himself, he developed a comparison between the trio and the seasoning of a salad: “Jean-Francis with his violent temper furnishes the vinegar; Louis with his wisdom the salt; and I, the goodnatured chubby Francis, put in the oil because I love mildness.”

Francis possessed a secret of which his mother was the confidant: He wanted to be a priest at any cost. Madame de Sales shared his dream and upheld her son in it. After six years at Jesuit schools and colleges accompanied by outstanding success he entered the University of Padua. Here he astonished his professors with the brilliant way he defended his thesis although he was scarcely twenty-four at the time.

The father already envisioned his son as a great lawyer, then a senator, and the founder of a fine family, but Francis, enlightened by a providential experience he had one day while riding through a forest, decided not to delay his consecration to God any longer.

His father objected. The mother intervened: “Can we dispute with God over a soul He wants for His service?” Secretly she had clerical clothes made for Francis. The post of provost of the Cathedral Chapter became vacant. The father finally gave in and on June 8, 1593, Francis was ordained to the diaconate. In the opinion of his father, who missed the joy of seeing him a bishop, Francis preached too much anddidn’t put in enough Greek and Latin when he did preach. But Francis knew how to talk to souls as his famous missions at Chablais strikingly demonstrated. Rich and poor besieged his confessional.

On December 8, 1602, Francis, who was then thirty-five gave his first episcopal blessing to his mother, who soon put herself under his spiritual direction. One of the last joys of this noble mother was to read her son’s “Introduction to Devout Life,” a book which met with spectacular success.

A stroke brought the saint’s mother to the point of death. The holy bishop of Annecy came hurriedly to her bedside. She recognized him, took his hand and kissed it, then putting up her arms to draw his head closer to her to kiss him, she said, “You are my father and my son!”

Francis closed her eyes at death. Broken by sorrow, he wrote to Madame de Chantel, “It has pleased God to take from this world our very good and very dear mother in order to have her, as I strongly hope, at His right hand, since she was one of the sweetest and most innocent souls that could be found.”

Sons are worth what their mothers are worth.

PARENTS OF SAINTS

SAINT FRANCIS DE SALES was the first child of Madame de Boisy. Saint Paul of the Cross was the first of sixteen children. The saint in the family is not always the oldest. Saint Bernard was the third of seven. Saint Thomas Aquinas was the sixth child in the family. Saint Therese of the Child Jesus was the last of nine children. Saint Ignatius of Loyola the last of thirteen.

What glory would have been lost to the Church if the parents of these children had consulted their selfishness rather than their duty of parenthood and had left buried in the realms of nothingness these little beings destined to become saints! It brings to mind the conversation between two women, the one voluntarily sterile, the other surrounded by fine children. The first woman explained to the second that she just couldn’t be tied down. The second responded with the classic argument:

“And suppose that your father and mother had reasoned like that, where would you be?”

The saints are rarely only children for two reasons: The first, that there cannot be any sanctity without a habit of renunciation and this habit is much more readily acquired in a large family where each one must forget self to think of others; where the rubbing of character against character whittles down selfishness; where the parents do not have time to overwhelm their offspring with a foolish indulgence that spoils them. The second, that God gives the grace of a holy call, by preference, where there is an integral practice of virtue, where virtue is held in honor, where the parents do not fear difficulty but trust in Divine Providence.

Saint Vincent de Paul was one of five children and Saint Vincent Ferrer, one of eight, Saint Aloysius Gonzaga, Blessed Perboyre, Saint Bernadette were each, one of eight children. In the family of the Cure of Ars there were six children; in that of Saint Margaret Mary Alacoque, seven; in that of Saint Benedict Joseph Labre, fifteen. In the family of Saint Catherine of Siena, there were twenty-two children of the same marriage. And how many more examples we could still find!

There is a charming Breton legend that carries an equally charming lesson. One day Amel, the fisherman, and his wife Penhov, who used to bring fresh fish to the monks, had left with their child to bring in the nets. They were overtaken by the tide. The water rose higher and higher and higher. “Wife, this is our last hour; put your two feet on my shoulders; in this way you will hold out longer. . . . and love my memory.” Penhov obeyed. Amel sunk into the sand like a post driven in with a hammer. Penhov seized the child and lifting it above her said, “Put your two feet on my shoulders; in this way you will hold out longer. And love deeply the memory of your father and mother.” The mother too sank beneath the water and soon only the golden hair of the child floated on the water. An angel of God passed by. He seized the child’s hair and pulled. “My, how heavy you are!” Another blond head appeared, that of Penhov who had not let go of her boy’s feet. “How heavy you both are!” Then Amel appeared for he had not let go of his wife’s feet. . . . By the child the father and mother had been saved!

Who knows whether or not some parents will enter Paradise because an angel has seized their child by the hair! What a beautiful letter of introduction for Heaven is a child and above all a canonized child!

TRAINING IN CHARITY

JEANNE-ANCELOT-HUSTACHE gives us a picture of her little daughterJacqueline in the book entitled “The Book of Jacqueline.”

She is a well-endowed child; she is made much of, in fact, too much petted by her grandmother, by her father, by her sister who is extremely proud of her and by all the guests of the home. She is in danger of becoming a charming little self-centered individual as so many children are.

Happily, attentive care watches over her and strives to give the child the spirit of charity, love for the poor, for children, for the weak and the suffering. Little by little, Jacqueline opens her heart to this love, toward the suffering of the world.

She finds exquisite words, unexpected delicacy in greeting people, in thanking them, and in easing every wound that she guesses with a subtle and tender intuition. She is embarrassed rather than triumphant because of the special advantages she has over companions who are less gifted, poorer and less endowed. She pities the poor beggar on the boulevard; she brightens the lives of the aged sick in the hospice of Ligny with her refreshing graciousness. At seven years this is how she prays to the Blessed Virgin for an unfortunate servant:

“O my Mother, my Mother, please deliver Yvonne. The poor little one. Nobody wants her. Her father doesn’t want her, her mother is now far from her. She stole, she is in prison, she is sad and never will any one take her from it, never until her death; I alone on earth love her, I love her because she seems to say to me, “If they would let me alone with you, I would never do anything bad.””

“I alone on earth, I love her.” That is the answer of Jacqueline to the secret appeal of the merciful Christ: She will give herself entirely to those who have no one to love them; she will be their Sister of Charity, their Little Sister of the Poor, their Sister of Mercy.

The hour of God for this privileged child was to come in an unexpected way. She was to die while still very young and she was to go to the Christ of the extended Arms, the Christ who loves little children who are charitable and pure.

What an advantage for the child’s later life, if the parents have succeeded in making it alert to the refinements of charity, to a concern for the needs of the world.

They do not lack opportunities. Perhaps mother and child are taking a walk. Here comes a poor grandmother, gathering dead branches, leading along an emaciated, sickly child. “Suppose we go to their aid?” suggests the mother to her little one.

Christmas comes. In many families some good little children will have nothing, not the smallest present. Their papa is too poor; he earns just enough to provide bread to his household. Playthings? By no means; playthings cost too much. “Suppose we bring them that doll you don’t play with anymore. Mother will dress it again so that it will look fine.” Or, “Suppose you look for that mechanical horse you relegated to the attic. Papa will repair it so that it will seem like new.”

Then there are the Missions. A terrible flood in some land has been reported. How many people are suffering! Let us fix up a bank into which each one can put his little alms! When we have a nice sum, we can send it over there. Or perhaps there is an occasion to ransom a little pagan baby so that it can be reared as a Christian. The opportunity to explain that spiritual alms are superior to material alms should not be passed by.

Once a child’s eyes have been opened, how well it will know how to be good!

TRAINING IN SOCIAL RESPONSIBILITY (1)

To AWAKEN the child to solicitude for the poor and the wretched is a splendid thing. However parents do not fulfil their whole duty, if they fail to give it a sense of responsibility for the common good and a true concept of cooperation.

Instinctively the child refers everything to its own small personal interest. If it is not taught very early to concern itself for others, it will be in danger of becoming narrow and selfish, of being forever oblivious to the general welfare, in other words, of never achieving a social sense.

While the child is very young this training will not consist in formal instructions but rather in a constant directing of attention on a thousand different occasions to the fact of having to be concerned about others. It will be taught to go upstairs without making a noise because mamma is resting; not to slam the doors because little brother or little sister is asleep; not to play noisily near papa’s study. The child will learn very early in this way the social consequences of its actions.

The child may be with the whole family to meet someone at the station; the parents will have a fine opportunity to show it how selfish it is to stand directly in door ways and passages as it loves to do, since that obstructs the entrances and exits for people coming in from trains or those who merely wish to leave that way.

If a little girl accompanies her mother on a shopping trip, she can be taught not to ask the clerk to display more goods than necessary because it will all have to be refolded and replaced after she leaves.

At basketball or football, it is not so important to be a star player oneself as to bring the team to victory. It is true sportsmanship and true nobility to renounce a personal triumph by passing the ball to a fellow player who will assure the victory because he is in a better position or better qualified.

“Point out to us the lessons of the football game,” a young sportsman asked his older friend. And he gave the one that extols the virtue of renunciation: “I will pass my chance to him”-the sacrifice of selfish or vain calculating with a view to the result for the whole.

The child can be shown that when there is question of committing an infraction of discipline in school, he ought to avoid it not so much because of the effect on the teacher-”He who budges will have to deal with me”-but rather the disturbance it causes for his comrades whose attention is distracted and progress retarded. Discipline was not invented for the comfort of the teacher but for the good of the pupils.

In this way, theoretical teaching is preceded by the practical background of the child in an atmosphere of cooperation, of social interchange of help. Every occasion for practice of this type should be accompanied by an explanation that later they must always act with like consideration in the office, the factory, the army or in whatever community they may be.

Once the children are old enough to understand more theory, every opportunity to instill doctrine should be seized: An international problem arises: Selfishness or mutual help? What does the Church say on this point? What does the Gospel say? Or perhaps it isa problem of relations between employer and workers, a strike in the father’s factory or in the city. Here too, what does the Church say? What does the Gospel command. Selfishness or reciprocal understanding?

Trained in this fashion the young will be ready and quick to understand the social or international doctrine of the Church when they are old enough to be taught it academically. They will not oppose correct principles, as they only too often do with a wall of prejudices or pseudo-traditions, when their religion or philosophy teachers explain them.

Training in Social Responsibility (2)

WE HAVE accomplished a good deal if we have accustomed the child to put itself as much as possible “in the place of others.” “If I were in such and such a situation, what would I do, what would I think?” We are all wrapped up in ourselves as in a cocoon, the child more than anyone else; particularly if it has been coddled, if it has been born into a family that is comfortably fixed, if it gets accustomed or others make it accustomed to being waited on.

The child must be encouraged to wait on itself and to give service. If for any reason the mother needs to hire help, that is no reason for the child to monopolize such help to its own comfort; it should never be permitted to give direct orders to domestic help.

As much as possible, especially in the case of little girls, the child should be given the opportunity to do many little tasks that make family life run more smoothly: to set the table, to dust up a room, to arrange a bouquet, to take care of the baby. Such assignments should not be presented to them as burdensome tasks but as an aid toward the common good, a lightening of mamma’s work so that they are joyful about it even if it demands an effort, upsets their well-laid plans or requires a sacrifice. Often the child will be delighted, proud of its importance. However care must be taken to appeal not to vanity but to responsibility.

A delicate point to consider is the question of friendships. Should the child be permitted to associate with children who are not as we say of their class? They will meet in school. If these possible friends are morally good and wellmannered, why not? It will offer a fine opportunity to show that money is not everything, that the only true worth is virtue and human dignity. The child may be too much inclined to pair off only with those who belong to the same social circle or environment; that flatters its vanity. The parents should react to this tendency by teaching the little one that it ought to share with a comrade who is less privileged and while avoiding indiscriminate associations with anybody and everybody, seek out as friends not the best dressed but those who are the best students, the most truly pious, the strongest personalities for good, in a word, those that deserve most esteem.

Should the family circumstances require sacrifices, show the child that there are people who are poorer; silence all jealousy. When the time comes for a choice of profession direct the boy or girl to choose judiciously not according to possible profit or financial returns but according to the possibilities for best serving society, the common good.

Generous parents will not hesitate, if the child’s qualifications are adequate and the opportune moment presents itself, to speak of vocations of complete consecration, the priesthood, religious life. There are so many needs in the world. “The harvest indeed is great, but the laborers are few.” They enlist their children’s interest. A priest? Why not he? A religious? Why not she?

That supposes a spirit of detachment in the parents, an informed appreciation for the needs of the Church, love of the general good of Christianity, the sacrifice of little hopes for building up a new family. Yes, it means that.

Such parents will often call attention to the distress of the world; to the struggle of nations among themselves. They will explain to their children that union alone is fruitful; furthermore that union alone is truly Christian.

What an inspiring example do those children have whose father has always been a man of broad sympathies and a generous heart, highly social-minded; if in his profession he has always tried to serve rather than merely to earn money; if a lawyer, he has always been concerned for justice; if an industrialist, he has applied himself to bettering the human aspects of production; if a merchant, he has been attentive to injure no one; if a doctor, he has sacrificed himself to do the most possible good; if an employee, he has given his time loyally and honestly to his work-a worker eager for work well done and the social defense of his profession.

The boy and girl learn from this to consider their chosen professions or careers as future social service. They get out of their narrow selfish views which formerly warped their characters-they emerge with souls truly formed.

TRAINING IN SOCIAL RESPONSIBILITY (3)

IF WE are alert to seize the occasions, everything can serve to teach children to guess or at least to understand the needs and requirements of others.

A little girl who could no longer be called a baby had not as yet any brother or sister. One day she noticed her mother busy with the details of a layette: “Is all that for Liette, mamma?” She was Liette. “No dear, not for Liette, but for a little brother or sister who is going to come.”

Liette was utterly stupefied. What was this? Mother was not working only for her then!

The first school for social consciousness is the family. What a handicap if mother has never worked for anyone but Liette, if Liette remained an only child! We can readily guess what selfishness she would have been capable of displaying.

The family is together: “It’s so stuffy here, I”m going to open the window.”

“No, grandmother has a cold.”

The child understands it is not alone; others count.

The family lives in an apartment. The children are making an uproar. “Gently, children; we must not disturb the people downstairs. Not so much noise.” Others count.

The little girl is learning how to keep house. She shakes her dustcloth out of thewindow. “Did you look to see if someone was passing by?”

To know that other people exist and to understand that we must restrain ourselves for them is the root of social consciousness. A person would think that we all would have it and to spare.

Unfortunately experience proves otherwise.

Mother and child go to a neighboring park for play. How tempting to make little sand piles all along the bench beside mamma! “You will see, I will not get you dirty mamma.”

“No, my little one, but you are not thinking of the people who may come in a little while to sit on this bench.”

The street as well as a public garden can offer opportunities for such lessons. “Step aside dear. Don’t you see that mother who is pushing her baby buggy; let her pass.”

On the streetcar: “Give your place to the lady.”

In a train. “Take turns sitting by the window.” “Let’s not speak so loud; it will disturb other people’s conversation or their reading.”

On a visit. “The steps have just been scrubbed; clean your shoes on the mat and walk along the edge so as not to track them up for the lady.”

All this is rounded out in Catechism lessons. “Then in heaven I will be with some poor little child, won’t I?”

Children of poor families should be taught the dignity of poverty and labor, the duty of contributing one’s best efforts to lift the living conditions and social status of their group.

Children of wealthy families should be taught their responsibility toward the working classes; they should be taught how far material, moral, and spiritual destitution can go and what they ought to do to learn how to remedy it. TRAINING IN SOCIAL RESPONSIBILITY (4)

WE HAVE not done everything when we have given children the idea and the desire of going to the aid of the poor. There is something better to be done. That is to teach them gradually to try to prevent misery from invading the poor world. We shall never succeed completely in checking it, but what a beautiful work it is to try to spread more happiness among men!

As children grow and reach an age of keener perception and of deeper reflection show them that the problem involves:

The relations of social classes with one another;

The relations of nations toward one another.

Within a single country, there are those who have what they need, those who have more than they need, those who have not even the essentials.

Is it not fundamental to establish a condition in the world in which the fewest people possible lack the necessities of life or better in which the most people possible can attain a sufficient possession of the goods of the earth, the culture of the mind and the knowledge of supernatural riches?

To the degree in which we are impregnated with the spirit of the Gospel, we will desire that our brothers about us are not only cured of their wounds but preserved as far as they can be from possible wounds and established in a state of adequate human development, and of adequate divine development.

To dress a wound that has been infected is a good deed; to prevent a wound from being inflicted is a better deed. To prearrange indemnity for those who fall into unemployment is good; to strive for a status of work in which unemployment is prevented is better.

Now the conditions of modern living, the economic equipment of society, have thrown a whole section of society intoa situation in which life has become very hard, in which “earning one’s living” has become a terrible problem.

Young boys and girls must be taught to realize these facts as they grow up. They must open their minds to an understanding of the social problems in their most agonizing aspects; they must prepare themselves to work to the best of their ability to counteract these evils.

When the social questions are concerned with relations between peoples of different nations, then how many problems crop up! Wars, even after treaties have been signed, leave hearts embittered. New difficulties arise. A very correct idea of patriotism is of capital importance!

Is periodic war between nations justifiable? Ought we not do everything in our power to constitute a state of peace in the world by an honest agreement between nations?

What procedures should we follow that these desirable understandings be effective?

What virtues must be developed in order to reconcile at one and the same time concern for national dignity, love of peace, brotherhood according to God.

How can we get different peoples to live together side by side without the grave interests of any group suffering even though each nationality remains deeply concerned for its own greatness?

A whole education on these points must be given.

THE FAMILY AND THE SCHOOL

To CHOOSE a school and then to help the school are two great duties of the family.

1. To choose a school. It is quite clear that a Catholic family ought to choose a Catholic school. On every level of education when there is a choice between a Catholic school and a public school, Christian parents have the serious duty to prefer the one which speaks of God and Christ rather than the one which sins by omission. It is a duty and a serious duty for many reasons:

First of all when Catholics practically bleed themselves to death financially to maintain their schools, not to profit by their sacrifice is to do them grave injustice.

Then, and this is serious, even when there need be no fear of the danger of immorality, the very fact of the mixed religions necessarily involved is a danger for the child’s faith since because of this variety, the education offered is severed from all allusion to things eternal. It is by a regrettable amputation that educators pretend to isolate in the human being, the merely human vocation and the supernatural vocation. We have not been created to be human beings pure and simple but divinized human beings. Educators can work in vain, secularization will accomplish nothing in changing this truth. It is just that way. The same holds for the education the parents give to supplement that of the school; it is immeasurably harmful for the moral life of young minds and young hearts never to hear mentioned that which alone counts for life. That is, however, how so many generations have become accustomed to put life on one side and religion on the other as if they were separate water-tight compartments.

To count on the school alone, especially when it is neutral, to equip children adequately for life is a grave delusion.

Spencer, that English realist, once wrote:

“The one who would want to teach geometry by giving Latin lessons or who believed he could teach pupils to play the piano by drawing would be considered crazy. He would be just as reasonable as those who pretend to improve the moral sense by teaching grammar, chemistry or physics.”

An education, even a solid education that is purely secular is insufficient for the full development of the moral sense and the adequate formation of character.

2. To help the school. After the school has been carefully chosen, the family still has the duty to help the teachers in their task. Therefore, parents, older brothers and sisters should:

show new interest in the children’s studies not as they often do through vanity but through real interest in the children.

should never contradict the disciplinary measures that teachers thought necessary; if a punishment has been inflicted at school or a schedule decided upon, the pupil’s family ought to support it and express themselves as being in accord with it.

should, if necessity has obligated them to put a child in a secular school, supplement the regrettable deficiencies of the school by competent religious instructions; they must also exercise vigilance over the friendships and associations the children form.

They should exercise vigilance in this regard even when the school is of the highest moral standard; particularly careful must they be of the influences of doubtful companions the children might become acquainted with on their way to and from school. Along with the school and the home we must take account of the influence of the streets.

THE SECULARISM OF CHRISTIANS

WE ARE not concerned here with refuting the doctrines of secularism. Every Christian ought to know the mind of the Church on this subject; we need not go back to ancient documents either to discover it. It is enough to recall the Encyclical “Summi Pontificatus” issued by Pius XII in 1939 at the beginning of the Second World War.

Denouncing the aggressive encroachment into the field of religion by some present-day particular doctrines, he traced even farther back the source of the evil which has poisoned the whole life of Europe; he pointed to the doctrines which tried to build up the present and the future of humanity by getting rid of God and getting rid of Christ.

The problem now is to determine which of the unfortunate species of secularism has invaded me, my home, my habits, and which now may dominate me.

Of course there is no question of a denial of God or of Christ. But what place do they hold in my family life? In my daily life, in my profession, in my participation in civic affairs?

Has it not often happened that in choosing schools or colleges for their children so-called Christian parents often evidence a utilitarian materialistic spirit; they give lame reasons for choosing the secular colleges instead of a Catholic college-the teachers are better, the chances for success after graduation are more certain. Are they so sure? And if by chance it were true? Do the souls of their children mean less than a diploma?

Has it not often happened that the influence of such Christian parents in their social and civic life was practically nothing as far as bringing the doctrines of the Gospel and the teaching of the Church to bear on those domains?

And even though they neglected nothing of the essential practices of their religion, was it not primarily mere formality rather than solid convictions; conformity or fashion rather than true worship? There was a great disparity between their external actions, their attitudes and real prayer, the living knowledge of the gift of God?

Is not following the doctrines and the morality of Christ nothing more than letting them be evident in my life and my family?

The world must be made over. In the light of an Apocalypse, terrible ruins have been effected. The edifice that was the European world appeared solid; the foundation stone was deficient. Are we going to build the new world on an equally fragile base? If we are, then, the causes remaining the same, the results must inevitably be the same. And we shall continue indefinitely to see renewed destructions. If God has no place in the foundations of the City with all that His inclusion implies, then how can the City remain standing? That is a thought expressed in an ancient psalm; there is no exception-the truth of this fact remains. The stability of nations and of society is bound up with eternal principles.

Am I sufficiently convinced of this? Do I not have much more confidence in human formulas than in the rule of complete truth? Do I not unconsciously try to establish human life only upon the human? Am I not still and always, in spite of the lesson in world events, the victim of a deficient ideal, of inadequate principles?

I must Christianize my Christianity. I must make it evident in every department of my life-in my relations with my family and with society; in the opinions I hold regarding national and international issues. In all that depends on me there shall be one hundred percent Christianity.

FAMILY AFFECTIONS

THE family spirit, that traditional ensemble of convictions, ideals, and domestic practices which constitute the sacred patrimony of people united by the same blood, can exist without a very strong affection among the members. The family spirit is in itself something precious; but when it is merely a sort of collective egotism, it has been blemished; it is a beautiful fruit injured by a worm.

What an inspiring and noble reality family affection is! One author refers to it poetically:

“ . . . Beautiful families that travel as a group and as a choir on the road to heaven after the pattern of stars that are united in constellations in the firmament . . .”

How we ought to pity those husbands or wives and often young boys and girls who find the hours spent at home long; those husbands and wives who are bored with each other; those brothers and sisters who find one another’s company monotonous and whose glance is ever on the door, the gate or the garage!

Mutual Love of Parents and Children: Joseph and Mary did not grow bored with Jesus; Jesus did not tire of the company of Mary and Joseph. It is said that love does not go backward. We do not find too many examples of parents who do not love their offspring but how many children neglect their father and mother with painful disregard! They explain it by saying that young people like to be together. But there is a time for everything. There are some who do not make enough of the part of the home in their lives. How strange it is that children can be so loving when they are little, so demonstrative, and when they grow up so adept at saddening their parents?

Brotherly and Sisterly Love: Where will we find love if not between brothers and sisters? “Who then will love you,” Bishop Baunard asks, “if you do not love your brother. It is like loving yourself. I believe the etymology of the word frater, brother, is made up of these two words fere alter, that is nearly another self.”

The Count de Mun wrote in his “Memoirs,” “It is sweet to me to have to speak in the plural when recalling the first years of my existence. I have a twin brother who has never been so much as a step away from me in my career. My life is his life, my joys have been his, and his successes mine. It is not Anatole and Armand, he and I, it is we.”

Marshal Lyautey had a brother who was a colonel during the war of 1914; this brother manifested to all who spoke to him not only his admiration for Lyautey, the Governor of Morocco, but his deep affection.

One only had to hear Father Foch, a fine type of Jesuit, mention his brother Marshal Foch to sense his love; though he showed a complete reserve it was more eloquent than any discourse; his was a warmth of heart which a few restrained but touching words sufficed to express.

There should be place in the home for the affection that grandparents, uncles and aunts deserve.

On the children’s birthdays, why not invite the godparents; they would enter better into their office. “Men and women who have held children at the baptismal font, I remind you that you will have to render an account of them before God.” For their part, the children will get a better realization of this beautiful institution of Christian sponsorship.

If all the members of the family are to understand one another and love one another, each one must have a great virtue. The same training and the same blood are not sufficient; self-conquest is necessary. Bossuet expressed it well: “Natures are always sufficiently opposite in character to create frequent friction in a habitual society. Each one has his particular disposition, his prejudices, his habits. One sees himself at such close range and one sees oneself from so many angles, with so many faults in the most trifling occurrences! One grows weary, imperfection repels, human weakness makes itself felt more and more, so that it is necessary to conquer oneself at every hour.”

THE HIERARCHY OF DUTIES

APOSTOLIC work if carried on inopportunely or immoderately can take a woman away from her home too much. Beyond a doubt, there are immense needs: help for the sick, catechetical instructions, guild meetings for the

Sisters, spiritual conferences, and in all of these, great charity can be exercised. It is much better for a woman to spend her time in such things than in lounging, or in numerous and useless visits, in exploring for the hundredth time some enticing department store. Nevertheless, the duties of the home remain her principal work: To plan, to arrange, to mend, to clean, to sew, to beautify, to care for the children. Insignificant duties? But what would that matter if they represented the Will of God? Are we not too often tempted to want a change? Impetuous zeal, poorly directed service, caprice under the guise of generosity seek to substitute for daily duty which perhaps has not much glamor about it but which is just the same wanted by God.

Would not the greatest charity in such a case be not to engage in works of charity but to remain faithfully at home and devote oneself to works which no one will speak of and which will win no one’s congratulations? Later when the children have grown up and settled, there may be leisure; then a large share in the apostolate will be open according to one’s strength and time. Until then, my nearest neighbor, without being the least bit exclusive about it but merely judging with a well instructed understanding, will be this little world that has established itself in my home. . . .

Another danger besides excessive apostolic works that might ensnare some wives and mothers of families would be to give exaggerated place to exercises of piety. Did not one of the characters in a novel by George Duhamel lament this tendency: “I have heard priests say that some women have spoiled their married life by excessive attendance at religious ceremonies and they sighed, “Why did they get married if they had a religious vocation.””

There are unfortunately some husbands so superficially Christian that they see exaggeration in the most elementary and normal practice of piety on the part of the wife and mother. That is only too sadly true! Their judgment is worth nothing.

We are referring only to an actual excess which would really be considered such by a competent judge. There is no doubt that a married woman, if she is a good manager and is not encumbered by some job outside the home, can find time for normal religious exercises and can even provide for meditation, spiritual reading and a relatively frequent assistance at Mass and reception of Holy Communion; time, after all, is something that varies in its possibility for adaptations and compressibility and woman excels in the heart of putting many things into a small place. . . .

If she suspects that her husband finds certain exterior acts of piety exaggerated, attendance at weekday Mass for instance, let her increase her private devotions somewhat, a little more meditation or spiritual reading when he is not around; whether he is right or not, it is better not to irritate him if grave consequences might result. That is how Elizabeth Leseur managed; never did she betray the least annoyance when disturbed in her devotions; she always answered her husband’s call or his outbursts of irritation with a pleasant face.

Never neglect a duty but observe the order of their importance.

Nihil Obstat:

JOHN M. A. FEARNS, S.T.D., Censor Librorum

Imprimatur:

@ FRANCIS CARDINAL SPELLMAN, Archbishop of New York

New York, June 19, 1951

********

Christ In The Home 4

BOOKLET 4

BY RAOUL PLUS, S.J. A TRANSLATION FROM THE FRENCH

INDEX

MARRIAGE AND THE PRIESTHOOD (1)

THERE is a greater resemblance between the sacrament of matrimony and the sacrament of Holy Orders than is immediately evident. The encyclical “Casti Connubii” of Pope XI does not fail to point it out. Here are a few similarities:

1. Although the sacrament of matrimony does not like Holy Orders impart a special character to the soul, it does consecrate “ministers” appointed to communicate grace. The priest is but a witness at the marriage. It is not the priest who marries but the man and woman who marry themselves who by exchanging their mutual “yes” give to each other more divine life. A sublime dignity which we have considered before.

2. Both marriage and Holy Orders give and sustain life. Holy Orders, supernatural life; marriage, natural life. The object of marriage, however, is not only the formation of bodies, but also the education of souls; procreation is nothing if it does not duplicate itself in education. It is up to the parents to get their children baptized, to prepare them for their First Holy Communion, to help in their religious formation, to assist them to remain in grace, a ministry which paves the way for the ministry of the priest, makes it possible and doubles its value.

3. Marriage and Holy Orders are both “social sacraments”; they are not intended only and principally for the personal sanctification of the recipients but are directed more especially to the general good of the Christian community. The priest is not a priest for himself; he is ordained for the sheep entrusted to him; he is commissioned to work for the flock the bishop designates for him. Parents are not married only for their own good; they are married for the good of the children who will be born of them.

When the number of priests decreases, what harm results for the spiri tual future of society! (Isn’t today’s terrible proof of this a real anguish for the heart?) If marriage is not undertaken by the fit, or the fit determined to fulfill its obligations, what harm will ensue for the temporal future of society!

4. Those who receive the sacrament of matrimony are vowed just as truly as is the priest to the exercise of charity.

For the priest it is clear. A bishop is established in the state of perfection by his very function which is to spend himself- to the giving of his life if necessary-for the welfare of the faithful. Because he is perpetually in the state of complete charity, we say that he is in the state of perfection, perfection consisting in the more or less extensive and permanent exercise of charity. Priests share in this state of holiness of the bishop. They must spend themselves for their sheep, be ready day and night to bring them spiritual help, to do all in their power to instruct them in the Word of God, to prevent them from losing their souls, to lead them back to the fold if they are tempted to go astray.

The married are, in their turn, and in a broad sense, established to a degree in a state which can, if they live it as they should, bring them to high perfection.

Ought not the husband exert himself with his whole soul for the well-being of his wife and children; should he not work and spend himself for love of them?

And what about the wife and mother? The pelican appears on the chasuble of the priest to symbolize his duty to imitate Christ by giving his very heart’s blood for the faithful. Could it not also be a symbol for maternal sacrifice?

MARRIAGE AND THE PRIESTHOOD (2)

PRIESTS receive Holy Orders at the foot of the altar, so too do the bride and groom receive the sacrament of matrimony.

It is as if the Church appointed the same place for the reception of both sacraments because she wished to emphasize the relationship between matrimony and Holy Orders.

Now that we have seen the points of resemblance between them, we are ready to draw some profitable conclusions:

1. The two who are married are called to help each other in the life of grace. Therefore the couple will become channels in the communication of grace in proportion to each one’s own wealth in the divine life. What a long preparation the priest must have for his priesthood-long years in the seminary, the reception of minor Orders before admittance to the priesthood, the retreats before each of his ordinations.

By contrast, how many enter upon marriage with no preparation. Even when they do prepare for it and give it thought, how superficial and brief their preparation is; how easily lost are the effects by a flood of social events and distractions. Strange conduct!

2. The two joined by marriage will have to propagate life, and what is more, a life which will resemble theirs. A most frequent comment made over a new baby, a comment which is quite telling is “Why, he’s his father all over,” or “She’s a vest-pocket edition of her mother.” What if this is to be true morally as well? What am I, the father, like? Or I, the mother? Do I really want this little one to resemble me? Oh, no! I want it to be better, much better than I!

But am I free, as I go along, to weaken what I expect to transmit and what I expect to keep for myself? No. I can refrain from begetting children, but if I do have them, I must know that they will resemble me. I ought not to have to say as someone said, “My children will be like me, but you will have to forgive them for it.” Is that not a thought that should move me strongly to sanctify myself?

Since I am not only to beget children, but I must also rear them, ought I not examine myself on the degree of my virtue? Is it such that I can really contribute to the advancement of other souls, to contribute to the growth of the Mystical Body of Christ, to intensify the supernatural in the souls around me-my partner in marriage, my children?

The Cure of Ars once asked a priest who was complaining over his lack of influence on his parishioners: “Have you fasted, taken the discipline, struggled in prayer?” In other words, “Have you pushed your efforts in prayer, penance, and sanctification to the highest point?”

Perhaps I complain of my powerlessness with one of the children. Have I taken all the means to draw down

God’s maximum graces upon me? Souls cost dearly. To be sure there is always individual free will to contend with; it can resist God; it can resist the prayer and the parents’ striving after holiness. I may not get discouraged.

Have I not perhaps been measuring out my generosity a bit too carefully? I shall try to reach the heights. We cannot lift up unless we ourselves are higher.

I should see, in the light of the parallel between the sacrament of matrimony and the sacrament of Holy Orders, the extent of my responsibilities. Like priests, I have a heavy responsibility. A magnificent responsibility but a frightening responsibility! If I am only so-so, I shall-according to the logic of things and barring a miracle of

God’s grace-rear souls who are only so-so.

IS THAT WHAT I WANT?

Have I up to now measured how far-reaching my mission actually is?

MASCULINE TREASON

WOMEN have their faults; while they are generally more irritating than man’s, they are less to be feared. Man more readily betrays; he is more truly all of a piece; when he falls, it is the whole way.

That should not cause a wife to be constantly on needles and pins; it is harmful for the man and she does herself great harm by so acting, for nothing will as quickly drive her husband into another woman’s arms as jealousy in his lawful wife.

The knowledge of man’s tendency should incite the husband to watch over himself more closely to avoid imprudence that might run into flirtation, then into a friendship, then into adultery. The spirit is willing but the flesh is weak, above all in the strong sex.

Even in cases where the quality of the person, the honor of the family name, nobility of origin would seem to give every guarantee of perseverance in good, we sometimes meet lamentable examples of a man’s infidelity to his home.

In the diary of Eugenie de Caucy, the second wife of Marshal Oudinot, it is related that on Sunday of shrovetide 1820, there was a very spectacular showing of “Le Carnival de Venise” at the Opera.

The Duke de Berry had left the theatre before the last act to escort his wife to her carriage. Upon turning to go back to his box he was mortally wounded by the anarchist Louvel.

He asked for a priest and then made another request: “I want to see all my children.” The people about him knew only of Mademoiselle, the four year old daughter, the child of his marriage with the Duchesse. His wife, the Duchess, did not dare to understand his request.

He explained, “My wife, I admit, I have several children.

Through a liaison of mine in England I had two daughters.”

He died shortly after, asking mercy for his murderer and regretting from the depths of his soul, a little late to be sure, his unfaithful conduct.

Many thoughts suggest themselves on hearing such a story. First of all, think of dying in such a setting! Yet, there is certainly nothing wrong with attending a play if the play is morally good; we just have to remember to be always ready wherever we are; death can strike us in society and even while we are in the proximate occasion of sin.

Another more appalling thought is the wife’s ignorance of her husband’s life. How can a man so betray the one to whom he has pledged his faith? Furthermore, how brazen, to ask a young girl to be his wife, the cherished companion of his life after giving if not his heart at least his body to another woman! Truly, man is not charming!

Not that woman is incapable of betrayal and of giving herself unlawfully, but we should like to think that it happens more rarely.

Finally a third observation comes to mind-the picture of this man lying in his blood, confessing his past and by this act of humility, which is to his credit, trying to redeem the failings of the past.

Thanks to God’s grace, I have not similar failings on my conscience. But are there not many thoughts, many desires, certain types of reading, much imprudence even in act, and unwarranted liberties of which I have been guilty? If those about me knew what I really am, how would they judge me?

MARRIAGE AND THE COUNSELS (1)

IS IT possible to arrive at perfection without following the evangelical counsels?

Put in this way, the question can have two answers depending on whether the effective practice of the counsels is to be understood or simply the spirit of the counsels.

1. Perfection consists in the exercise of charity as the duty of one’s state implies it. “Be ye perfect as your heavenly Father is perfect” was said to all not just to priests and religious.

And again to all, “Thou shalt love the Lord, thy God, with thy whole heart, and with thy whole soul and with thy whole mind and with all thy strength.”

The perfection of charity is commanded to all and not only counselled.

That the evangelical counsels are a help to the exercise of the virtue of charity for those who have elected to live by them is certain; they are not the only means.

The Gospel makes it perfectly clear: There is the observance of the Commandments-a necessity for all; there is the observance of the counsels-for those who desire it; those only would be obliged to adopt this second means who have evidence that without them they could not attain their salvation-a rare case indeed. 2. But it appears to be a very difficult thing to arrive at the perfection of charity without adopting the spirit of the counsels.

In fact there are three great obstacles to the perfect service of God: excessive attachment to the goods of earth; the tendency to seek purely selfish satisfactions where the affections of the heart are concerned; finally the habit of obeying not so much God’s will for our life as personal caprice and the false demands of the world. From this it is evident that the pursuit of perfection presupposes the spirit of detachment; it means using things, as Saint Paul would say, as if we did not use them at all. That suggestion is good not only for life in the cloister but every bit as good if not more so, in view of the greater difficulty, in the simple life of observing the

Commandments. The spirit of poverty in either case is essential.

The pursuit of perfection while living in the midst of the world likewise calls for the spirit of chastity, the chastity of the heart-not to the point of having to deprive themselves of everything as those do who are vowed to the virginal state but to the point of the privations necessary to meet the demands of the conjugal state. Therefore, the spirit of chastity is equally essential.

Striving for perfection in the midst of the world still allows the individual entire liberty regarding many of the details of life, the so-called good things of life as well as ideas, companionship, dress. The soldier Ernest Psichari yearned as he used to say “to be free of everything except Jesus Christ.”

Strive for obedience to God alone who said “Seek ye first the kingdom of God and all the rest shall be added unto you.” I must not let “the rest” take precedence over “the Kingdom.”

Obedience to God should not be marked by formal passivity but by vision and conviction. Let me measure the distance from the place I am now to the summit of Christianity.

MARRIAGE AND THE COUNSELS (2)

THIS subject has too great significance for one meditation only.

Before the Fall there was a triple harmony in man:

· Harmony between God and the soul: Adam and Eve conversed familiarly with the Most High who used to walk with them at twilight in Paradise; He often left His footprints in the sands of their garden.

· Harmony within man himself between his body and soul:

The senses were active but they were submissive to reason and will; concupiscence existed but it was just concupiscence not evil concupiscence; the powers of desire were not inordinate.

· Harmony all about man, between him and nature: The animals were subject to him and were not hostile to him. Inanimate nature did not refuse its secrets to his work which was but a joyous extension of his activity and not as it has become in part at least-fatiguing labor. “You shall eat your bread in the sweat of your brow.”

Then came the Fall. Immediately this beautiful balance was destroyed. Man revolted against God. The result: Man’s senses rose up against right reason and will enlightened by faith; nature and all about man turned hostile. There would be wild beasts and venomous creatures among the animals; the earth would resist his toil and the labor of generations to come, revealing its treasures only with discouraging parsimony and at the cost of fearful toil and sweat.

What should be most profitable for my meditation is the consideration of the revolt in man himself, his lower powers against his higher powers. From then on man would have to struggle against the triple and fatal inclination which was born in him:

· An inclination to take an exaggerated possession of the goods of the earth, the fruit of concupiscence of the eyes:

Man will rush after all that glitters. How many crimes have been committed because of an unregulated love of money!

· An inclination to seek after excessive carnal satisfactions contrary to true discipline of the senses and the commands of God. What crimes have not the follies of lust produced!

· An inclination to pride: Man, proud of his liberty, but not sufficiently concerned about keeping it in dependence on reason and the Divine Will, runs the risk of forgetting the majesty and sovereignty of God and the prime duty of obedience to the Master of all.

How can one struggle effectively against this triple and dangerous inclination?

Do violence to self, declare spiritual writers with good common sense. First and foremost among them in suggesting this technique is Saint Ignatius of Loyola. Choose the counterpart: poverty, chastity, obedience.

Religious men and women make it the matter of a vow. Their lives serve as an inspiring example to draw forward those whose lesser courage or less demanding vocation have kept in the common way of life.

I shall hold religious life in high esteem. Although my vocation is different I shall learn to live in a wise spirit of detachment from created things, of chastity according to my state, and of obedience to the Holy Spirit.

MARRIAGE AND VOWS

THE problem of personal vocation, as I have seen from my meditations, is not a problem to be solved in the abstract, in pure theory, but in the concrete, taking each particular case into consideration. The best vocation in an individual case is not the vocation which is best in itself but the best in fact, that is the one which Divine Providence prepares for each person.

I have recognized mine quite clearly. I have no worry on that score.

Without wishing to belittle in the least the merits of those who pronounce religious vows -for they are privileged souls- can I not in a way compare my life with theirs and find a resemblance between them?

In the writings of his mother which the poet Lamartine published we find these lines:

“Today I attended the Investment of some hospital sisters. The sermon which was addressed to them was beautiful: The speaker told them that they had chosen for life a state of penance and of mortification. A crown of thorns was placed upon their heads to symbolize this . . . I greatly admired their self-sacrifice; but I reflected that the state of a mother of a family can approach the perfection of theirs if she fulfills her duties.

“A person doesn’t give enough thought to the fact that when she marries she also makes a vow of poverty since she practically puts her fortune into her husband’s hands, and that he has something to say about how she spends money.

“She makes a vow of obedience to her husband and a vow of chastity inasmuch as she is not permitted to seek to please any other man. She also dedicates herself to the exercise of charity toward her husband and her children; she has the obligation to care for them in sickness and to give them her wise counsel.”

Isn’t there much truth in this comparison? Evidently in the case of marriage, husbands and wives are largely compensated for the sacrifices they have to make by the joy that comes to them from life together. In the virginal state there is no such human compensation. That is no reason to underestimate the value of the married state. Because the one state is more beautiful, it does not follow that the other is not very beautiful.

It may well be that a certain father or mother who hesitated before entering the married state because they felt called to the life of consecrated virginity fulfilled God’s plans for religious vocations better by their marriage; God used them as instruments for a series of vocations that would develop among their offspring.

When Pius X was promoted to the bishopric of Mantua, he paid a visit to his mother at Riese. “Mamma, look at my beautiful episcopal ring.” His eighty year old mother let her wrinkled fingers pass over the ring thoughtfully. Then she said, “It is true, Guiseppe; your ring is beautiful; but you would not have had it, if I had not had this one,” and she held up her wedding ring.

THE SOCIAL IDEAL

YOUNG Maurice Retour found himself at the head of a textile factory upon the early death of his father. Shortly before his marriage, he wrote to his bride-to-be.

“To know that more than three hundred persons depend on you for their daily bread, to be certain that with work, intelligence, and patience you can make them earn more, what else would you need to become inspired with the desire to discover all possible improvements.”

He let his fiancee know that he planned to have her share in the furtherance of his enterprise. He added:

“To be a Christian, to have the happiness of knowing your wife will one day work hand in hand with you, to feel that you possess this sister-soul to help bring to success the noble and beautiful ideal you dreamed of accomplishing is almost too great a bliss; it’s enough to make you beside yourself with joy.”

The young industrialist, in full agreement with his wife, set himself to the duty of providing the desired improvements: a free Saturday, a cafeteria for the workers, a benefit fund. Naturally he was criticized by his fellow industrialists who did not have a like Christian sense. But he held his own and went even farther. Sometimes before some of his reforms which had as their only purpose better conditions for the workers, a number of the workers themselves either from force of habit or ill-will evidenced displeasure. He still kept to his plan, tried to win them over and was patient with them.

In spite of his firm principles, the exactness of his economic and sociological knowledge, his good judgment, his Christian spirit which guaranteed the usefulness of his efforts, he was still eager to be supported in his labors; he told his wife his difficulties and asked for her opinion and advice. He counted on her either to help him to study and to grow in his understanding of social problems or more often still to have a part in his work.

In the fight against alcoholism, in the care of the workers’ children, in the visitation of the sick, in planning for big celebrations, in organizing vacation camps, what a wide field there was for the wife of an industrialist!

Maurice Retour did not believe in getting himself involved in so many activities that he would neglect his factory; interest in free schools, attendance at Saint Vincent de Paul meetings were all fine, but they should not separate him from his factory.

“We ought to think first of our workers, of their children, of those who are in our direct contact in order not to scatter our efforts in all directions uselessly. Let us try to sow a bit of happiness about us . . . Let us give as much as we can to others . . . We are responsible for the good we do not do . . . All our life spent in this work hand in hand, united in the same ideal, the same faith, the same great love would not be too much.”

From the Front in1915, he often wrote asking for news: “Tell me about our dear workers of whom I think so often.”

What a god-send when a wife finds in her husband such a magnificent social spirit; when an industrialist finds in his wife someone who understands him and backs him up!

THE HOME

GREAT ADVENTURERS

CHARLES PEGUY called fathers of families, “these great adventurers of the modern world.” How correct he was! What courage is needed to step out before life, with a companion on one’s arm, aspiring to have children and hoping that Mother Earth will be able to support and nourish their own little world! Certainly the joy that attends the birth of a babe is sweet. Here is how a father describes it:

When one sees a little one so weak yet so well formed one loves the Creator still more and how much more one thanks Him for giving us life! What a beautiful mystery maternity is! To see a young mother feeding her babe suffices to incite one to adore God. There is nothing more touching than to see this dear little treasure resting in the arms of its mother. It was baptized on March 28. What a majestic ceremony it was and how proud one feels to be able to say his son is a Christian!

But what anguish is suffered if the children are sick; if the mother’s strength fails beneath her work. How anxious one grows when the little ones cough and gasp for breath. And even if all goes well as far as health is concerned, there is no end to buying clothes, having shoes resoled, and providing food for the ever hungry mouths.

When the children grow up, one must be concerned about their education. One must start thinking about high school and college for the boys and the girls. Which school is best? Which teachers are best qualified? Will they take the same interest in our children that we the parents do? Will they give them what they really need to face life? . . .

Then come the sudden worries -auto accidents, accidents in sports, war in which the worst bodily dangers threaten!

But worse still and more serious by far are the soul dangers-the boy who keeps bad hours, who has an evil tongue and a shifty glance, who evades questions and begins to lie.

Yes, indeed, what magnificent and courageous adventurers are fathers of families!

A reporter recounted the enthusiastic acclaim the people of Paris gave the intrepid sailor Alain Gerbault who had succeeded in sailing around the world in a very frail skiff.

“For my part,” said the reporter, “I gave to Alain Gerbault the recognition that was his due.”

But in the crowd that had gathered about the famous sailor, the newspaper man found himself next to a family of rather humble means to judge by their appearance, although they did not lack dignity. There were five children with the father andmother, all modestly and neatly dressed. The father was explaining to his sons, “Oh, what an admirable type is this Gerbault! What a hero!”

“I shared that idea,” commented the reporter, “but I thought that father was also a hero to pilot a skiff loaded down with children on the parisian ocean as he was doing. . . . I even wondered if it were not more admirable than to guide a boat on the high sea with only oneself to think of.”

THE PSALM OF YOUNG MOTHERS

A YOUNG mother-very true to her role of mother and at the same time very artistic-got the idea of comparing her role with that of cloistered sisters. Between her washing, her cooking and the care of her youngest, she managed to compose “The Psalm of Young Mothers” which appeared in the 8 November issue of “Marriage Chretien.” It is full of love, full of spontaneity. Every young mother will recognize herself in these passages we are quoting: “O my God

Like our sisters in the cloister

We have left all for you;

We have not imprisoned the youth of our faces in a guimpe and under a veil,

And though we have cut our hair, it is not in any spirit of penance. . . .

Deign nevertheless, O Lord, to cast a look of complaisance

On the humble little sacrifices

Which we offer You all day long,

SINCE THE DAY OUR GROANING FLESH GAVE LIFE TO ALL THESE LITTLE CHRISTIANS

We are rearing for You.

Our liberty, O God, is in the hands of these little tyrants who claim it every minute.

The house has become our cloister,

Our life has its unchanging Rule,

And each day its Office, always the same;

The Hours for dressing and for walks,

The Hours for feeding and for school,

We are bound by the thousand little demands of life.

Detached by necessity every moment from our own will, We live in obedience.

Even our nights do not belong to us;

We too have our nocturnal Office,

When we must rise quickly for a sick child,

Or when between midnight and two o’clock,

When we are in the full sleep we need so badly A little untimely chanter Begins to sing his Matins.

We practically live retired from the world:

There is so much to be done in the house.

There is no possibility of going out anyway without a faithful sitter for the little ones.

We measure out the time for visits parsimoniously.

We have no sisters to relieve us on another shift.

And when the calls for service reach high pitch for us

We have to sweep, to wash the dishes, scrape the carrots for the stew, prepare a smooth puree for baby and keep on going without stopping

From the children’s room to the kitchen and to and fro.

We do big washings we rub and we rinse

Aprons and shirts, underclothes and socks

And all the baby’s special things.

In this life of sacrifice, come to our help, O Jesus!

UP TO DATE

ONE of our modern novels gives us the following situation: Gina Valette is a woman who is “up to date” in the unpleasant sense of the term. Very rich and provided with a husband who thoroughly spoils her, she has dogs, cats, a parrot, and a monkey, but no children. Her brilliant existence palls on her. Among her friends are mothers with children who courageously use their modest resources to advantage and rear quite a family. Often when an epidemic breaks out among the children of a family, a friend of the family will take two or three of the others for the time.

To cure Gina of her depressed spirits, her friend Jamine persuades her to take young Gilles Perdrinix whose five brothers and sisters have the chickenpox. Gina is bewildered; she knows perfectly how to care for a monkey but she finds herself embarrassed before this little Perdrinix boy who judged her severely from the height of his four years.

“How ignorant she is! How much is lacking in her training!” Little Gilles sighed to think of it. “She knows how to smoke,” he said to himself sadly, “but she can’t give me a lift to button my shirt.” He did not complain nor did he reproach her; but on seeing her so clumsy, he thought she had much to learn to become a woman like other women.

Happily there are other kinds.

A mother of a family and a brilliant author wrote in the preface of a volume on “The Mother” which she was requested to write by the editor of a series entitled “The Up to Date Woman,” “How shall I ever write this little book? There are no up-to-date mothers.There are only Mammas.”

And with charming dash coupled with irresistible conviction she gave young wives this advice:

“Little Lady, you are embarking upon married life on the arm of a husband who is all taken up with you, who probably wants nothing more than to believe in you, to follow you and to approve of everything that touches the essence of your being. Do not listen to those frustrated women or those soured unmarried girls, or those Jezebels who have nothing of the matron about them but their age and have no real experience; do not let them draw you out of the right way. Be convinced, that the joy which babies bring is inexpressible and makes up for all the torment and fatigue of bearing them. Be certain that the sight of that plump, smooth little body; of those dimpled hands and feet, both like pink silk yet provided with sharp nails; of that darling little mouth with its toothless smile, so simple and so trustful that the bright look, so marvelously pure, the soft cheeks, the silky hair, the utter quiet abandonment of this little being who issued forth from us floods our soul with an intense and intimate ecstasy such as I have never known before.

If only the up-to-date woman would be a mother for the future.

After the dark hours of the war, new life must be born.

There will be lives only if there are mothers, mothers who respond to their essential and divine vocation.

Even if there were not this motive of special need, eternal reasons still have force-the law of fecundity and the law of chastity:

Although it is permissible for married persons to abstain from the conjugal act or to perform it only when there is the least possibility of conception provided their reasons are not selfish; if they do perform the marital act they may do nothing to prevent the generation of a life which is in the plan of God. That is clear.

Give me, O my God, the grace through respect for You and for Your work, always to have a devotion to and a respect for life; grant that I may never sully my own existence by any criminal attempt upon new life. Grant me also the grace to be in Your Hands a not too unworthy instrument of Your creative power. Let me be “up-todate” whenever it is a question of enrolling a new name in the Book of Life.

PATERNAL SOLICITUDE

IN ORDER to fulfill his task conscientiously, a father needs singular qualities.

First among these qualities is an unfailing courage. In homes where life is easy-and in what family today is life easy -he can rest on the fortune amassed by his ancestors. But that melts so soon. In homes where the family lives truly on the daily bread, how much he must exert himself to earn that bread for the day. There’s more than one meal that has to be provided for a single day. And the clothing? And the shoes? And the bills-from the doctor, the pharmacist, the grocer? Days follow upon each other, weeks overlap and months roll by; the home is augmented by one more. How shall he cope with this world of his?

With courage, the father needs a quiet confidence in God. Surely, if they understand their duty well, true fathers know how to space births somewhat without failing in the least against the laws of marriage; and this for some requires heroic courage. But even then when one does not tempt Divine Providence but lives in a prudent and continent moderation, it is still necessary in order to keep above the surface of life to cast anchor in the deep and wait for the desired help from God-imperturbably serene through it all.

And who will measure the untiring patience that he will need to bear those almost necessary difficulties of character in a most loving and attentive wife; to endure the crying and weeping of the babies at night; to bear with the noisy games of the growing children when he wants to work in quiet; to try to make the income at least balance expenses; to build up a declining business; to find new openings for his products; to develop a better and wider clientele. Patience alone will see him through!

How he will need authority with the children to reinforce the mothe r’s control who, either because she is too busy or too easy going, lets them take advantage of her now and then!

He will not have this authority without insight which will help him distinguish the pre-dominant character traits of each child and determine the best means to provide for the training of all so that their virtues are developed and their faults are checked; to read their souls, their inmost thoughts, the progress of their dreams for the future . . .

All in all, what skill, what firmness, what adaptability, what sanctity he will need! And here is just a poor father consecrated such by circumstances and who, just a young fellow himself, has never weighed his future responsibilities-or not very seriously weighed them!

Oh, how deeply I feel, Holy Virgin Mary, that you must help me. Our Lady of great courage, give me strength! Virgin most patient, give me patience! Seat of Wisdom, give me insight into characters! Mother and Queen of Jesus, give me a gentle, but firm authority!

Holy Mary, give me holiness more than all else! I have not attained the degree God wants of me for my mission in life; I am well aware of that. Draw me, O Immaculate Virgin, draw me to the heights; you are so near to God; you dwell in the radiance of His light and His omnipotence; lead me on, higher!

THE FAMILY

THE FAMILY, A WORKSHOP OF LIFE FOR EARTH, A WORKSHOP FOR ETERNITY!

1. A Workshop of Life: What power to have control over the creation of life! God, who could have created human beings all by Himself wished to give His creatures the gift of a power which belonged only to Him. Consequently, souls will not come into the light unless parents consent to it. They will not create souls, to be sure, but by generating bodies they furnish God the means of increasing the number of souls.

Have I meditated often enough upon this magnificent power which has been conferred on me? A power which I share equally with her who is the companion of my existence? Have I meditated on the glory of fatherhood? The glory of motherhood? Have I considered what a grave sin it is to place the act which generates life and then to prevent through perverted will the coming of life to a potential human being? Or to snuff out the life which is developing in the womb of the mother?

The author of the novel “Jeanne,” though not a Christian, clearly pleads the cause of Christian morals in the play he produced from his novel. The following scene gives in brief the theme of the whole play:

MADELEINE-Jeanne is always present . . . Do you know the dream I often have? I see a little hand which is trying to open a door. We are very comfortable you and I and we both push against the door with all our strength so that Jeanne cannot come in to take away a little of our ease, our luxury, our warmth . . . Then the little hand falls down and we begin to count gold pieces so as not to hear anything . . . A little whimper . . .

ANDRE-That’s a nightmare! . . .

MADELEINE-For you yes. Remorse is a policeman . . .

ANDRE-Don’t you love me anymore, Madeleine?

MADELEINE-Since we were accomplices . . . I loved you to folly, but this love was snatched away with my child. When I came back from that abortionist, you noticed no change in my attitude. But Andre it was another woman you clasped in your arms . . . a sort of dead . . .

ANDRE-Then, always, forever, that will be between us?

MADELEINE-Not between us, with us!

Have I ever thought of the tragic intimate dramas that conjugal cheating gives rise to in the lives of parents? Have I thought of the harm done to society in times of peace? To the country I love, weakening its defenses, threatening its safety in times of war? To the Church who would have had some saints among those children who were denied birth, in any case, some priests and religious . . . Have I thought of all that?

2. A Workshop for Eternity: The family not only contributes an increase to earthly existence but it also increases more divine life on earth, and that in two ways-from the moment of its establishment and later: The day the man and woman receive the sacrament of Matrimony, they produce, if we may so dare to speak, more divine life; each of the two become richer in the life of the Trinity within themselves; the Eternal is intermingled to a greater degree in the existence of both. Then come the children. Each will possess within itself the germ of eternity, something of the life which will never end. Death will come to end life here below, but this life is destined to bloom again: “I believe in the resurrection of the body and life everlasting” we recite in the Creed.

To be sure, the children have free will, they can fail to attain their destiny. The devil and evil concupiscence must always be conquered. But if their origin is Christian, if the parents have done all they possibly could to do their duty and rear their offspring as they ought, it would be failing in Hope to think of the family’s being eternally cut off from some of its members.

I shall pray fervently that we may all be reunited in heaven, that we eternally sing the Sanctus as a chorus with not one of us missing.

HEREDITY

THE profession of fatherhood and motherhood has its responsibilities even before the birth of the children. Someone has said, “Every man is an heir; every man is an ancestor.” Just as we receive through our ancestral line many of our traits, so too we found a line of descendants, and we transmit to those descendants something of what we are ourselves.

If we were free to transmit only the good, how truly it would be worth transmitting! But it does not work that way. It is impossible to foresee what part of us will pass on to our successors. Whoever performs the work of imparting life runs the risk of imparting to the one born of him some of his worst with the best. Wherever there is propagation by generation the mystery of heredity has its place, a frightening place. It is not in vain that God gives this warning in the twentieth Book of Exodus: “I am the Lord thy God, mighty, jealous, visiting the iniquity of the fathers upon the children unto the third and fourth generations of them that hate Me; And showing mercy unto thousands to them that love Me and keep my Commandments.” There is a similar idea expressed in the prophecy of Ezechiel.

A certain father took part as a young man in a sinful escapade. He corrupted his blood; a germ entered into him. Should he be astonished then that at the moment in which he transmits life, that very life will be contaminated? He took precautions; he was cured. That is possible. It is not always certain. There are often unpleasant surprises. Even when the malady does not recur in the first generation, it is possible that it may reappear in the second or third or even later.

It is the same in the case of lesser evils which nevertheless leave their corrupting effects-habits of laziness, intemperance in the use of liquor, a wasting of one’s forces. It all tells.

The mother also formerly lived too fast. Her life was characterized by an excessive effort to follow the capricious changes in styles, too intense a participation in strenuous sports, an abuse of strong liquors or over-indulgence in smoking, too much loss of sleep because of empty and sophisticated night-life or hours of reading thrillers or indiscriminate running to movies. Here she is now leaning over her baby’s cradle. The little thing is weak and puny looking as if it were trouble just to breathe. The doctor is called. There are certainly many reasons for sicknesses and weakness in babies other than the imprudences of the mother and father. But is it not true that in many cases if the doctor were sincere he would have to say: “Madam, there are maladies here which wisdom could prevent but which science cannot circumvent.” To have healthy and vigorous children, parents must deserve it.

But far be from us any unjust generalizations! It often happens that in the most deserving families where parents have always done their duty, God may send weak and sickly children either for the sanctification of the parents or for reasons known to Himself alone.

But it still remains true that in many a household an unbelievable thoughtlessness serves as the prelude for so serious an act as the procreative act. How many fathers and mothers ought to meditate on the words spoken by Our Lord with a different implication to the women of Jerusalem as He trudged along to Calvary, “Weep over Yourselves and your children.”

What a tragic mystery is human heredity! Physical impurities, and in part, tendencies which foster moral weaknesses can be transmitted to one’s descendants. Some children will issue forth victorious over terrible struggles only painfully because there is weighing upon them the crushing weight of faults or frightful frivolities to which others before them have consented!

PARENTAL RESPONSIBILITY

IT IS worth considering more than once the responsibility that can rest with the parents when some children do not achieve their full possibility or even turn out badly.

Let us of course give due blame to the evil concupiscence which can provoke a painful transformation in children even when the parents have done everything possible.

It remains true just the same that in a good number of cases, the father and the mother or one or the other must plead guilty.

A boy is sent to college. He gets along fine until the sophomore year. From then on he bungles everything, abandons right conduct, falls in with dangerous companions, carries on high to such an extent that he has to be expelled. And when a professor expresses astonishment, the dean will give this explanation: “It’s his background; unfavorable heredity; his brothers were just the same. The mother is a saint, but the father is one of those unfortunate individuals who is ruled by his senses; he has caused much suffering to his wife. It is just the traces of the father showing up in the children.”

The explanation can be taken for what it is worth. The law of heredity is not a mathematical law. There is no doubt, however, that it is operative, more operative than one thinks.

When heredity is not to blame, it can often be a matter of bad training. How good parents are, how very good, too good, too weak! It is their own formation which is faulty; it should be done over.

A mother brought her young son to the doctor for an examination. The doctor prescribed a remedy. “The medicine was not pleasant to take but it was very potent,” he said. Well and good; they had the prescription filled.

Some time later they returned to the doctor.

·”Well, now, how’s our patient?”

·”Not any better, doctor.”

·”How’s that? Didn’t the medicine take effect?”

·”No, doctor, it was too hard to take; he wouldn’t touch it!”

How much botchwork of that kind goes on! Parents satisfy the child’s every whim. They recoil before the first tears, before the mere signs of an outburst, before less than that-a frown, a pout, or a dejected look. They are lost!

Reversing the scriptural phrase, “Cain, where is thy brother Abel?” an author speaking of social problems, which can well be duplicated in the family and in education asked, “Abel, what have you done with Cain?” In other words: “You good people, are you not responsible through your faults or your incapacities that some good individuals have become bad?”

I have charge of a soul; I may have a plural charge-several souls. What has been my conduct until now? Do I not have to reproach myself with many faults or at least many weaknesses? And I am surprised at the results obtained! Are they not the logical outcome of my bungling?

Let me examine myself; consider the whole problem seriously; if it is necessary, let me reform.

THE FAMILY SPIRIT

BEFORE the war, family spirit was on the decline and on the verge of being lost. There were exterior and interior reasons.

Exterior reasons: Means of travel had become easier and encouraged people to go out as much as possible. At times, the whole household would take the train or auto for an excursion but more often than not one or other member of the family would go off for himself with the car.

Young girls began to leave home more than formerly for purposes of study, Red Cross causes, Social Service training or simply to take a position. Many who had no such need at all left home for no other reason than not to have to remain at home. Anything rather than stay home!

Various activities and organizations were always sufficient excuse or pretext for absence. Household activities held no appeal for these young women and often repelled them. The remembrance of confidences from their mother in some of their intimate sessions frightened some of them.

The world with its perpetual and superficial and useless activity drew many young men and even more young women into its crazy dance and encouraged the desertion of the home.

Interior Reasons: Some homes make no attempt to be attractive; life in them seems too austere to the children; the mother is too busy, the father is always grouchy, upset by the least noise, easily irritated and perhaps, even without knowing it, frigid and abrupt in his manner of speaking . . . Sometimes there is an unfortunate lack of harmony between the parents. The atmosphere is always charged with a threatening storm. There is no relaxing, no peace, no trust . . . Each one wants his liberty, to go his own way. The children caught between two fires do not know to which saint they should dedicate themselves. Therefore they too go away, or if they can’t they close up within themselves . . . Each one in the house stands on his dignity.

It is quite true that children have become more difficult to train. They always have been difficult but they are more of a problem today than in the past. A tendency developed to give them greater leeway which created a greater distance than was wise between fathers and sons and especially between mothers and daughters; it was an imaginary difficulty rather than a real one in many cases but only too frequently it gave rise to a cruel estrangement.

No one can prevent the difference of twenty years more or less between father and son or mother and daughter; that it should be a difference is to be expected; but that it should be a barrier, no! And while there are parents who cannot remember that they were once twenty years old, most of them can.

“I dream of a daughter who will be like me but also very different,” wrote a mother; “because I should not like to produce only a duplicate but neither should I like to be onlya rough draft of a more perfect pattern.”

Then she continues to explain that her daughter will be able to come to her in all confidence to tell her about her first infatuation; she will understand her and will even tell her how she herself at about the age of eighteen fell madly in love with a violinist of exceptional talent and that her own mother so completely entered into sympathy with her that she helped her daughter compose the burning letter of admiration in which her newly-born ardor was poured out . . . Together mother and daughter waited for the fervent response . . . which had never come!

Poor children, who feel that their parents do not understand them! But if they do understand! It is their duty not to approve of everything, but they understand! Then they are ready to help, not always by writing a love-letter, but to encourage, to warn, to support the children in their undertakings, to sustain their enthusiasm, to lead them to their goal.

“THE WHOLE SEA”

PEOPLE sometimes say: “What is the use of trying to rear children as good Christians; they will be lost sight of once they enter upon life in the midst of the great masses. Will any one so much as notice their presence? Will they be able to leave their mark? Will they not run the risk of being crushed by the amorphous mass and quickly covered over by some allembracing platitudes’” Or again, “What is the use of trying to establish a home that is a Christian community, a veritable monastery of Christian virtues-and by that we don’t mean an atmosphere like a morgue but an exemplary group governed by Christian devotion and love-when all about us there are only mediocre families? They are not bad but worldly, with no depth to their Christianity. We would be drowned by all the rest!”

Pascal gave the answer to these questions when he said, “The whole sea rises for one stone that is thrown into it.” Though it appear but an insignificant pebble in value, it at least assures one’s contribution to a common work. Has it not always been the minority groups who transformed the world?

You say, “What is the use of troubling ourselves and working to form Christians and real men when all about us the mass of humanity is becoming more and more dechristianized and less virile? Lacordaire suggests an answer similar to Pascal’s, “Simple drops of water that we are, we wonder what need the ocean has of us; the ocean could tell us that it is made up of nothing else but little drops of water.”

That is true of individuals; it is true of families.

If we could do nothing to effect numbers we can at least effect quality -the policy of the leaven. What matters the thickness and weight of the dough, if the leaven which works in it possesses irresistible force?

Let us throw dynamic Christian personalities into society; where can they be better prepared than in Christian families and institutions? We ought to, that’s sure. In the midst of indifferent families, let us settle some distinctly Christian families who do not compromise when duty is involved, who radiate joy, manifest the beauty of virtuous living and bear witness to Christ by apostolic zeal. And then count on God to assure the result.

The result is certain. We must have faith in Him and believe in the power of radiating centers.

“Unless there are in our cities and towns, homes where Christian life flourishes, every hope for Christian civilization is doomed,” wrote a university man of note shortly before the war.

To Christianize a town, a village, a neighborhood, in short any milieu involves more than multiplying activities which do not even get into the blood-stream of real living; it means an invention of new ways of life, as for example group formation of families who give a public example of Christian virtues by living in loving and fraternal communities, breaking with the forms of mediocre living and substituting for it in their relations with others a true form of friendship rooted in the Gospel spirit.

What was true before the war is even truer now. There is still a desperate need for a renovation of the Christian world, and of the whole world for that matter; this renovation will be achieved only through Christian families, by thorough-going Christians within these solid Christian homes, and fervent community groups of Christian families.

HOME LIFE

SOMEONE has suggested the following “slogans” for Happy Home Life:

1. Always appear before your family in a good humor. Nothing is so depressing for the rest of the family as a father or mother out of sorts. See that the family never has to suffer because of your attack of nerves or your irritability.

2. Never weary in cheering your family with your smile: It is not enough to avoid depressing the family; that is purely negative. You must brighten them up, let their spirits expand. Be especially vigilant when the little ones are around. You must give them the alms of a smile, hard though it be at times. What a pity when children have to say, “I don’t like it at our house.”

3. Tell what you may tell openly: If something must not be told, then don’t tell it. If you may share it then do so. We ought to let others profit by our experience, above all, the family.

4. Amiably show the greatest interest in the least things: The problems of family life are generally not affairs of state. However, everything that concerns the persons we love most in the world should be worthy of interest: the baby’s first tooth, the honor ribbon won at school, the entrance of one of the little ones into the Holy Childhood Association.

5. Banish exaggerated asceticism from your life heroically: If your home is Christian and each member of the family is learning to carry his cross, then it is essential to avoid making others suffer by a too ostentatious or inopportune austerity. Besides there is abundant opportunity for self-renunciation in devoting oneself to procuring joy for others. Marie Antoinette de Geuser used to sacrifice her great longing for recollection and her taste for a simple life by accompanying her brothers to evening affairs for which she wore dresses that she said “made her look vain.”

6. Be very attentive to treat all alike. Nothing is so disrupting to home life as the evidence of favoritism for one or the other child. The same measure for all!

7. Never think of yourself but always of them in a joyous spirit:

Henry the Fourth used to crawl around on all fours, with his children on his back, to enliven the family gettogether. Louis Racine, the son of the famous Racine, relates of his father, “My father was never so happy as when he was free to leave the royal court and spend a few days with us. Even in the presence of strangers, he dared to be a father; he belonged to all our games. I remember our procession in the garden in which my sisters were the clergy, I was the pastor and the author of “Athalie” came along carrying the cross, singing with us.”

8. Never begin an argument, always speak prudently. Discussion should not be banned unless it develops into bickering or argument. A free habit of exchanging ideas on a broadening subject cannot but be profitable; the children should even be encouraged and led into it to develop in them a wise and discriminating mind and a habit of suspended judgment. Unsavory and disturbing subjects as well as those beyond their depth ought naturally be avoided.

9. Act patiently always, answering graciously always: That it takes the “patience of an angel” to rule vigilantly over the little world of the family is beyond question. I must apply myself to it affably.

10. By good-will you will gain hearts and souls without exception:

Love much-that is the key to it all.

These slogans for a Happy Home Life are not marvels of prose but they do express a precious rule of wise family discipline.

THE FAMILY TABLE

MEALTIME should serve not only to nourish the body but also to comfort the soul.

Someone wittily said: “Repast, repose.” Whoever it was made a good point.

While the children are still little the mother and father will probably breakfast alone. When they are older, if the father cannot be present because of his work, the mother at least should be present to set the example for table etiquette, to make sure that the children eat enough, properly, without greediness, and without rejecting what is not to their liking. This is the hour for the household to shake off sleepiness which still stupefies them, and to season the atmosphere with joy and genial good spirit.

At the main meals all except the babies will be present. The parents should exercise the greatest care not to come to table laden with their worries, a prey to the preoccupations of their duties or their professional activities. The only possible exception to this rule would probably be during a time of family bereavement or exceptional sorrow. But even then a just mean should be observed so that the young ones need not be unduly depressed. They ought to keep all their verve and to a certain point, their power of fancy.

Except when it is essential that the whole family share the concerns of all in common, the father and mother should not come to table looking downhearted and pass the mealtime discussing their hard lot in life. Children are quick to sense the worry of their parents, they feel that things are not going well, if there is tension or estrangement, if evil has hit the home. When they perceive things of this sort, their little hearts contract and a certain unease strangles them.

And why make someone who is not equal to it bear the burden and heat of the day?

After the first few moments in which the father and mother exchange a few words about decisions they must make concerning affairs which need not be kept from the children, they ought to direct the conversation here and there to the younger and the older; let them tell how they spent the morning or afternoon; show an interest in the efforts of all, in the work they did, the virtues they practised or the disappointments they met. Even if the father and mother have heavy cares, they should force themselves to escape from them long enough to be attentive listeners to the thousand details that all wish to recount. Each one must know that he can speak freely, provided that it is always politely, discreetly and charitably. Should there be some little chatterboxes, they must be taught to moderate their intemperance which would prevent others from having their say. If one of the children seems to be in bad humor, he should be stimulated by a little kindly teasing, a kind word or an opportune question.

When the children pull out all the stops, call for pianissimo; when they observe too long a pause speed up the tempo. Should one or the other strike a false note get him back in the key again.

The parents should not be satisfied with listening to the little stories of their children. They too should contribute to the broadening of their knowledge by giving them worthwhile information, relating an amusing or instructive story or starting a discussion on an interesting subject.

Rene Bazin, the novelist, speaks of those families in the North of France who still keep to the custom of beginning the meal with a short reading from the life of some saint or famous hero. Wasn’t it Father Lourdel who entered the White Fathers after hearing the story of the African martyrs? All that relaxes, elevates, and lends variety. It might even be a reading from the letter of a relative or a selection from a newspaper. The main idea should be to entertain and as far as possible expand hearts.

Nihil Obstat:

JOHN M. A. FEARNS, S.T.D., Censor Librorum Imprimatur:

@FRANCIS CARDINAL SPELLMAN, Archbishop of New York

********

Christ On Divorce

REV. HERBERT J. RICHARDS, S.T.L., L.S.S

INDEX

“WHY is your Church so strict about divorce? If a marriage has turned out a failure, why not dissolve it? Surely you will do more harm than good otherwise. People are human, and if they have made a mistake they ought to be given a second chance. What right have you to be stricter than Christ, who admitted that unfaithfulness could be a ground for divorce?”

The objection may not be put in so many words, but it is implicit in the minds of many people, who are frankly puzzled and even shocked by the Catholic Church’s attitude to divorce, and who cannot see in Christ’s words, as St Matthew reports them*, anything other than a permission, at least for the innocent party in a divorce to remarry.

In actual fact the meaning of the phrase except it be for fornication is not nearly as obvious as people think. That it should have given rise to a great variety of interpretations is sufficient indication that it is an ambiguous phrase. About the only thing that scholars agree on is that it cannot be taken to mean that Christ gave any sort of permission for divorce and remarriage: it simply will not fit the context or the rest of the New Testament teaching on marriage.

It will be useful to look into that general New Testament teaching before discussing the possible meaning of the words which St Matthew has put on Christ’s lips. It forms the necessary background for the understanding of that enigmatic phrase.

1. ST PAUL ON MARRIAGE

IT may seem odd to approach the teaching of Christ by way of the occasional letters written by St Paul to his converts twenty or thirty years later. It will seem less odd when it is is remembered that these letters introduce us into the life of communities who were practising the teaching of Christ long before it was ever written down in the Gospels. If we wish to know what Christ taught, we can have no safer guide than the practice of the first Christian churches.

TO THE CHURCH AT CORINTH

About the year A.D. 55 St. Paul wrote his first letter to Corinth, a church which he had founded on his second missionary journey five years earlier. In common with the rest of the first generation of Christians, his converts there lived in the fixed hope that they would remain alive to see Christ’s second coming, and they had written to ask whether, in view of this transportation into heaven, “where there wilt be no more marrying or being married” (Mt. 22: 30), it might not be better to remain celibates, whether in fact it might not even be advisable to break up existing marriages. Paul wrote:

“ In reply to the questions you asked me to answer:

(I) Yes, you are quite right in supposing that celibacy is a good thing. But that does not mean that marriage is something evil. In fact, in a background like that of Corinth, where there is such constant danger of immorality, it is better for a man to have a wife, and for a woman to have a husband.

(2) No, you are wrong in supposing that husband and wife should live as brother and sister. In fact, by the marriage contract the wife has given over to her husband the right to her body, as the husband has to his wife, and you have no business to deny this right to each other. You may both agree to abstain from the use of marriage for some spiritual reason, but this should only be for a short period at a time. To refuse to come together again would leave both of you wide open to temptation. (What I have said here about the advisability of marriage is of course not to be taken as a command. As far as my own preferences in the matter go, I would personally advise anyone to follow the greater perfection of the celibate life I lead myself. But this demands a gift from God, and if God has not given you this gift, then celibacy is not for you. For you he has a different gift in store. So, I repeat, any unmarried person, widow or widower would do well to * Mt. 19: 9 “Whosoever shall put away his wife, except it be for fornication, and shall marry another, committeth adultery.’ (Douay version). The saying is repeated in a slightly different form in Mt. 5: 32. remain celibate as I do, but only if they can exercise self-control. If they are constantly being overcome by the flames of passion, they should marry)

(3) You are equally wrong in suggesting that existing marriages should be broken up, And here it is not merely a question of my own personal preferences: Christ himself has forbidden wives to leave their husbands, and husbands to divorce their wives. Consequently, if they have separated from each other, they must either remain single or else be reconciled” (1 Cor. 7: 1–11).

ST PAUL HARD ON MARRIAGE?

This page of St Paul has been paraphrased in order to suggest the answer to some of the objections which it has aroused. What sort of a view of marriage is this, people ask, which makes it a poor second-best to celibacy, a concession allowed to those who cannot exercise self-control? The objection is fair enough, if it is presumed that St Paul set out in this letter to present the full Christian doctrine on marriage. But he did not. He set out to answer the twisted questions of some very twisted people.

The Corinthians had moulded their newly found Christianity on the Greek model, with the Greek assumption that religion concerned the soul alone. Salvation was a matter of intellectual appreciation in which the body played no part, to which in fact the body could only be a hindrance. The mentality can be read between every line of the letter which St. Paul wrote to counteract it, from the first chapter’s castigation of Corinth’s intellectual cliques, to the last chapter’s impassioned appeal to the Corinthians to understand that Christianity involves a bodily resurrection, not a merely spiritual one. It is this mentality that has coloured the chapter on marriage too, and allowance must be made for it if St Paul’s thought is not to be misrepresented. It is in answer to the soulless asceticism of the Corinthians that he admits the superiority of Christian celibacy, only to express his doubts about whether they are spiritually mature enough to practise it. It is in answer to the suggestion that marriage is intrinsically evil that he insists on its sacred character (he is not afraid to call it, in v.7, a charisma on the same title as the “spiritual gifts” that are to be outlined in ch. 12–14). It is on the command of Christ (who gave it this sacred character), and not on Paul’s preference, that Christian marriage is to be regarded as unbreakable. As far as the teaching of Christ went, the first generation of Christians knew of no exception to the indissolubility of Christian marriage.

TO THE CHURCHES IN ASIA

If we want a more balanced and a more complete picture of St Paul’s teaching on marriage, we will go to the epistles he wrote later in life, when the heat of controversy was over, when the heresies which threatened to corrupt Christianity from within-Greek intellectualism on the one hand (cf. Thess. and Cor.) and Jewish legalism on the other (cf. Gal., Rom. and Phil.)-had been finally defeated, and when he could set forth his concept of Christianity ex professo instead of merely using it to illustrate a debating point.

From his prison in Rome, about the year 62, Paul wrote a letter to the Christian communities which he and his fellow missionaries had founded from Ephesus, the headquarters of his third journey eight or nine years earlier. The epistle is known to us as “Ephesians,” but with its lack of the usual personal greetings it was probably designed as an encyclical letter to all the churches in the Roman Province of Asia of which Ephesus was the capital. It is the calmest of all Paul’s writings. Not that he had no errors to deal with: between the lines of this epistle he is clearly referring to an incipient form of the Gnosticism which was to give so much trouble to the Christian writers of the second century. But Paul does not write with any of his former anxiety. He is content here to put forward, quite positively, a synthesis of the Christian mystery as it has matured in his mind, convinced that this will satisfy all the searchings of Asia for a philosophy of life. And the sum content of this mystery is Christ, a Christ who possesses from eternity all the fullness of the Godhead, a Christ in whose incarnation God has become present to us, a Christ who has already returned to the earth in the Church, which is his Body, filled at every moment with his fullness. In the Church, the Christian is “in Christ” (the phrase is repeated again and again) and has already entered heaven. For St Paul, this sublime concept of Christianity is not simply the concern of the speculative theologian. It is the guiding principle which must govern the attitude of each Christian to such everyday matters as honesty, patience, humility and purity. It is the reality which must form the background to the everyday relationship between a slave and his master, between a child and its parents . . . and between a wife and her husband.

“The wife should be subject to her husband as if to Christ, since he is her head, just as Christ is the head and saviour of his Body, the Church. Just as the Church is subject to Christ, so should the wife be subject in all things to her husband.

The husband, for his part, should love his wife in the way that Christ loved the Church. It was for the Church that he gave himself up in order to bring it to God . . . It is in this way that the husband should love his wife, as if she were his own body . . . which he takes such care to keep fed and free from harm. For this is precisely how Christ loves us, the limbs that make up his Body, the Church. Genesis spoke of a man leaving his father and mother in order to be united to his wife in one flesh. Those words contain a great mystery, a mystery which has now been revealed in the union between Christ and his Church” (Eph. 5:22–32).

MARRIAGE A METAPHOR

The text again needs to be opened out to reveal the depth of its meaning. The use of the marriage metaphor to describe the union between Christ and the Church is not new. The Old Testament had frequently referred to the Covenant between God and his People in these terms (Deut. 4:24, Isa. 1:21–26, 50:1, 54:6–7, Jer. 2:2, 3:1–12, Ez. 16 and 23, Os. 1–2, Ps. 44, God and his People in these terms (Deut. 4:24, Isa. 1:21–26, 50:1, 54:6–7, Jer. 2:2, 3:1–12, Ez. 16 and 23, Os. 1–2, Ps. 44, 13). What is new is the light that St Paul has thrown on it by turning it back to front. It is not God’s union with man that is something like human marriage. It is human marriage that is the metaphor, an imperfect copy of that other union which is the true reality. And that union between God and man, first echoed in the union between Adam and Eve, and echoed down the ages by the union into one flesh of every human marriage, has received its final seal in the incarnation, where God has become one flesh with mankind. The marriage of which Genesis spoke, itself already an image of God’s marriage with man, was, in St Paul’s mind, a mystical foreshadowing of a more sublime reality still, the marriage between Christ and his Church. And this in its turn becomes the model for Christian marriage, in which two Christians present a replica of that action of Christ and make real again his presence upon the earth. It is, in the last analysis, this sacramental nature of Christian marriage which makes it absolutely indissoluble. It can no more be broken than can the new and eternal covenant into which Christ has entered with his Church.

THE OTHER EPISTLES

There are not many other references to marriage in the rest of the New Testament epistles. What references there are all reflect this same conviction that Christian marriage is something more than a merely human contract, because Christ’s coming has raised the world on to a superhuman level, and marriage with it. Writing to his converts in Salonika, St Paul is anxious to point the contrast between the pagan attitude to marriage and that which must inspire the Christian who is a member of Christ’s Body and a temple of Christ’s Spirit (1 Thess. 4: 4–8). In his epistle to the disciple who is to take over his work in Ephesus, he returns to the Greek heresy against which he had to battle in Corinth ten years earlier, which would maintain that the body is irredeemably evil and the marriage act hopelessly sinful. He insists that everything that God created is good (1 Tim. 4: 1–11), and that in fact it is in the very relationship of marriage that the wife is to win her salvation (2: 15). The epistle to the Hebrews similarly stresses the sacred character of marriage (Heb. 13: 4).

Perhaps the closest parallel to the sublime ideal outlined in Eph. 5 is to be found in the encyclical letter written by St Peter only a year or two later. With the ease and confidence which marks the first Christian exegesis of the Old Testament, St Peter finds the model of the Christian wife in Sara, who addressed Abraham as her “Lord” (Gen. 18: 12, Septuagint), as every wife is to see the figure of Christ the Lord in her husband. It is because Christian marriage has this Septuagint), as every wife is to see the figure of Christ the Lord in her husband. It is because Christian marriage has this 7).

These quotations from the writings of the Apostles are sufficient to give some indication of the light in which Christian marriage was seen by the first generation of Christians. If they do not at first seem to have much relevance to the subject under discussion, the teaching of Christ on divorce, they form its essential background and express something of the spirit in which we must approach the words of Christ as the Gospels have recorded them.

2. CHRIST ON MARRIAGE

WHAT GOD HAS JOINED TOGETHER

The Gospels mention only one occasion on which Christ made any pronouncement on marriage. It is to be found in all the three Synoptics (Matthew, Mark, and Luke). Luke is content to report the operative sentence which contains Christ’s teaching on the matter, and has included it (16:18) haphazardly in the middle of the long collection he has made of Christ’s sayings (Lk. 9:51–19:27). Matthew has also included the sentence (5: 32) in the middle of his more compact collection of Christ’s sayings, known to us as the Sermon on the Mount (Mt. 5–7). Mark has been more careful to report the circumstances which gave rise to the saying (Mk. 10: 1–12), and these are reproduced, with slight variation, in a later chapter of St Matthew’s Gospel.

“Some Pharisees came up to him and put him to the proof by asking him, Is it right for a man to divorce his wife for any reason whatsoever? He answered them, Have you not read that the Creator made them, from the beginning, male and female, and said to them “For this reason shall a man leave his father and mother in order to be united to his wife, so that the two become one flesh”? A man and his wife are no longer two but one, and no one has the right to separate what God has thus joined together. Why then did Moses, they asked, make provision for separation by means of a certificate of divorce? It was, he replied, because of your moral immaturity that Moses allowed divorce; but that was not God’s original plan. And so I repeat that original plan to you : Whoever divorces his wife (“except it be for fornication”) and marries another woman, commits adultery; and whoever marries a woman who has been divorced by her husband, also commits adultery.” (Mt.19:3–9).

It will be useful to look a little more closely at the context here provided by Matthew. It will give us some indication of the way in which Christ’s final words are to be understood. With Mark and Luke, the phrase in italics may be omitted for the time being. Whatever its meaning might be, it will appear more clearly in the full light of this context.

JEWISH BACKGROUND

Christ’s ruling on divorce was not given out of the blue. It was given in answer to one of the many ‘trick questions’ by which his adversaries hoped to catch him out in argument. St Matthew gives several examples of these questions-on the poll-tax, on the general resurrection, on the greatest commandment, on the Messiah-in this section of his Gospel. On each of these occasions Christ had carved clean through the controversy, and had forced his questioners to re-examine their own principles. The question of the Roman tax was based on the assumption that he must either pronounce for it (and antagonise the crowd) or against it (and arouse trouble with the authorities). Christ did neither. He simply declared the supreme principle that the obedience owed to God does not prejudice the obedience owed to Caesar. The question of the resurrection of the dead was based on the assumption that the limitations of this life would be carried over into the next. Christ took away the whole foundation of the objection by pointing to the spiritual nature of the life of heaven. The question on the Law hoped to embroil him in the fruitless dispute about the relative importance of the 623 commandments which the Scribes had discovered in the Old Testament. Christ disposed of the whole argument by returning to the one fundamental-the commandment of love. And on the ancestry of the Messiah, it was he himself who asked the awkward the commandment of love. And on the ancestry of the Messiah, it was he himself who asked the awkward 45).

On the occasion that here concerns us, the trick question was asked in the hope that it would force Christ to declare for one side or the other of a dispute famous in his day, and so split his following. The dispute revolved around the precise meaning of the phrase in Jewish law which specified the grounds for which a divorce might be granted. The Code of Deuteronomy had allowed a husband to dismiss his wife, by the formality of giving her a certificate of divorce, if he discovered in her “the shamefulness of a thing,” that is to say, something shameful or indecent (Deut. 24: 1). For many, these words could refer only to the ultimate indecency of adultery, which consequently alone gave a man the right to divorce his wife. This strict interpretation was upheld, in the time of Christ, by the great rabbi Shammai. But the phrase was obscure enough to allow of a very liberal interpretation too, and indeed the rabbi Hillel had gone on record as ruling that a spoilt dinner or a wife’s fading good looks constituted sufficient “ shamefulness of a thing “ to allow the husband to demand a divorce. The phrase continued to provide a subject of bitter argument and disagreement, and its overtones are clear in the question which is put to Christ in Mt. 19: “Is it right for a man to divorce his wife for any reason whatsoever?” In effect he is being asked: “Are your sympathies with the stricter view of Shammai, or do you side with Hillel who holds that divorce may be granted even for the slightest reason?”

CHRIST’S RULING

The question hoped to force Christ into one of the two camps. He does neither. He bypasses the whole dispute in order to return to the fundamental unity and indissolubility of marriage as it was created by God. The marriage tie, as instituted by God, is stronger even than the natural bond between parent and child, because it has made “one flesh” of the two partners, who can no more be divided again into two than can a living body. The same text of Genesis, of which St Paul is later to make such effective use, is appealed to as witness of this God-designed unity. Christ refuses to declare for either Hillel or Shammai. Both are wrong. No man, neither Shammai nor Hillel, has the right to separate again two beings whom God has made so indissolubly one.

If any doubt should remain that Christ has not merely sided with the stricter view of Shammai, but has forbidden divorce in any circumstances, that doubt disappears when even Shammai’s followers have to appeal against Christ’s interpretation of Genesis by quoting Deuteronomy. Christ does not reply: “Of course, in certain restricted cases that interpretation of Genesis does not apply.” He merely repeats it and points out that the prescription of Deuteronomy, far from being a divine command, was a temporary concession to the immature moral stage of Israel. His own ruling is that from now marriage is to return to its original and absolute indissolubility. In short, his reply is entirely in keeping with his reply to the other trick questions. He refuses the alternative presented to him: “Does this provide sufficient grounds for divorce or not? “The whole foundation of the question is wrong. Nothing provides sufficient grounds for divorce. It is the reply we should have expected once we had read the rest of the New Testament teaching on divorce, for the one depends on the other. Neither Paul nor Peter nor any of the early Christian communities knew of any grounds for divorce. The reason was that Christ had absolutely forbidden it.

3. “EXCEPT IT BE FOR FORNICATION”

WHAT IT CANNOT MEAN

There is not a scholar who questions the fact that Christ’s words, as reported in Mk. 10, Lk. 16 and Mt. 5 and 19, forbid divorce and remarriage. The whole context of Mt. 19 makes it so clear that there can be no possible doubt on the matter. If scholars continue to disagree, it is not on that fundamental fact. They may argue about the meaning of the phrase except it be for fornication, but none of them imagines that by it Christ made any exception to his prohibition of divorce. It would make nonsense of the whole scene. Even the Apostles who close the scene bear witness, by their shocked attitude, that Christ’s ruling is uncompromisingly stricter than Shammai’s: “If that is your decision about the relationship between a man and his wife” they say, “ better not marry at all!” (Mt. 19: 10).

This, it must be repeated, is so clear that those scholars who still think that the words except it be for fornication are really meant to provide an exception to Christ’s ruling, conclude that they cannot be Christ’s own words (they are such a blatant contradiction of all that he has said), but must have been interpolated by some Christian community which found itself unable to live up to the high standard set by Christ. This of course is the easy way out. The study of Scripture would be considerably simplified if we could dismiss any difficult phrase as a later interpolation. Is there no other possible meaning of the phrase?

WHAT IT COULD MEAN

Scholars of all times have returned again and again to struggle with this phrase. On the one hand it does seem at first sight to qualify in some way Christ’s general prohibition on divorce. On the other hand the context makes it clear that Christ considered a divorced person still bound by the marriage bond: to attempt marriage with another would be “adultery.” If there is to be any solution to the dilemma, some alternative translation must be found for one or other of the three words which appear in our text as “divorce,” “except” and “fornication.”

Some scholars (by far the majority) have suggested that it is the word “divorce” which has been mistranslated. Since Christ explicitly forbids remarriage, the word might be better translated as “separation.” In this case his ruling could be paraphrased : If anyone separates from his wife (and that is allowed for “fornication”) then he may not marry again. Christ would be making a real exception, not indeed to his prohibition of remarriage, but to his prohibition of “divorce” (i.e. separation). It is a possible solution.

Others have queried the word “except,” especially in view of the forceful word used in the Greek original of Mt. 5: 32, and suggested that it might be better translated “leaving aside,” so that Christ would be saying: If any one divorces his wife (and I am not considering the question of “fornication,” which makes no difference one way or the other) he may not marry again. Christ would be bypassing the whole dispute about what constitutes sufficient grounds for divorce, as irrelevant. It is a possible solution.

But it is the third word, “fornication,” that perhaps provides the most satisfying solution to the problem. The solutions based on the other two words unconsciously make this word equivalent to “adultery,” without allowing for the fact that when the text speaks of the adultery of the divorced husband or wife, it uses an entirely different word. It would seem that “fornication” refers to something else. Can we discover its exact meaning by looking to see how it is used elsewhere in the New Testament?

THE WORD “FORNICATION”

The Greek word porneia that is used in Mt. 5 and 19 is in fact both more general and more specific in meaning than the English word “fornication.” In itself it means simply “impurity” (the English word “pornography” which is taken from it has a similarly wide meaning). and the context must decide what precise impurity is being referred to. Such a context is provided, for instance, by St Paul in his first letter to Corinth, where he condemns the illicit union between a Christian and his dead father’s wife. This he calls porneia (1 Cor. 5:1). The Council of Jerusalem in Acts 15 uses the word in exactly the same sense when it directs Christians of Gentile origin to respect the susceptibilities of their brethren of Jewish origin by complying, where necessary, with Jewish custom in the matter of porneia. The Council had made it clear that, in principle, the Christian is no longer bound by the ritual laws of the Old Testament (Acts 15: 7–19). But charity demanded that where converts from Judaism were in a majority and continued to live according to these ancestral laws, the Gentile Christians among them should make a communal life possible by respecting their social taboos in the matter of “idolothytes” (food which had been offered in pagan sacrifices), “porneia” (marriage within forbidden degrees), “blood” and “things strangled” (non-kosher meat) (Acts 15: 20). Exactly the same four concessions had for centuries been demanded of any stranger who wished to make his home in Israel (Lev. 17:8–18: 26).

These two examples make it possible, if not likely, that porneia, as well as bearing the generic meaning of impurity, had in certain circumstances the technical meaning of marriage within the degrees of kinship forbidden by Jewish law. Among the Gentiles there was no restriction on the matter, and marriage between near relatives was not unusual. But it was the Jewish custom which was eventually taken over by the Church, where a marriage of this kind was regarded as being one in name only, and in reality as illicit a union as plain fornication. The use of the same word porneia in the context of a dispute about marriage makes it at least possible (more and more scholars today think that it is certain) that the text of Mt. 5: 32 and 19: 9 refers to such illicit unions, and excepts from the general law of indissolubility those “marriages” which were already null and void through forbidden degrees of kinship. The text could then be paraphrased: If any one divorces his wife, he may not marry again, except when his marriage was not a real one at all, but had only the appearance of one.

IS IT LIKELY?

It will be asked whether it is likely that Christ would have gone out of his way to mention anything as obvious as this. If the union between two people is only an apparent marriage and not a real one at all, then anyone of the meanest intelligence could conclude that it does not fall under Christ’s ruling on marriage, without explicit mention of the fact having to be made. It would be rather as if Christ said: “Blessed are the merciful for they shall obtain mercy (unless they are not really merciful, but only appear to be).” On the other hand, if the word porneia was meant to refer only to the case of marriages which were invalid because of the technical law on kinship (and this admittedly would be less obvious), then one could still ask whether it is likely that Christ would bother to insert a parenthesis referring to something so remote. After all, it was not as if the case would crop up in every other marriage or so. As well expect him to say: “If anyone divorces his wife he may not marry again (except where his marriage to the woman has been a case of mistaken identity).” It is too rare a thing to mention in a general ruling about the indissolubility of marriage. Is it even likely that the word porneia was understood by the first Christians to refer to these forbidden degrees of kinship, when they found it necessary to legislate for the matter themselves in the Council of Jerusalem? Perhaps this fact provides the clue to the final solution of the problem. It is indeed unlikely that Christ should have legislated for such an obscure case. But it is not unlikely that St Matthew should have inserted a reference to it into Christ’s words.

IN MATTHEW ALONE

1t is significant that when St Mark, St Luke and St Paul refer to Christ’s teaching on the indissolubility of marriage, they make no mention of any exception to the rule. The phrase except it be for fornication is to be found in St Matthew alone. Now St Matthew, far more than the other Synoptics, has a habit of adding his own explanation to the words of Christ. Where St Luke reports Christ as saying “Blessed are the poor” (Lk. 6: 20), Matthew reads “Blessed are the poor in spirit” (Mt. 5 : 3) in order to ensure that the words are understood of the spirit of poverty, and not of merely material destitution, in which there is no particular virtue. The very next verse of Luke “Blessed are those who hunger and thirst” has similarly become in Matthew “those who hunger and thirst for justice” (Mt. 5: 6), to emphasise again the spiritual nature of these qualifications for entry into the Kingdom.

These examples are well known, but many others could be quoted: St Peter’s “Thou art the Christ” (Mark and Luke) becomes in Mt. 16: 16 “Thou art the Christ, the Son of God,” to express the full meaning behind this profession of faith ; in 9: 13, 11: 14, 12: 7, 12:40, 13: 14, 21: 2, 24: 30, Matthew has put the words of the Old Testament prophets Osee, Malachi, Jonas, Isaias, Zacharias and Daniel into the mouth of Christ (they are missing from the parallel places in Mark and Luke) in order to emphasise the element of fulfilment that is to be seen in these examples of Christ’s teaching ; the questions asked by Christ in Mk. 5: 9, 5: 30, 6: 38, 7: 12, 8: 23, 9: 16, 9: 33, 11: 21, 14:14 have all been omitted by Matthew lest they should seem to imply ignorance on the part of Christ ; and so on. Nor should it worry us to discover that Matthew has added his own commentary to Christ’s teaching in this way. His purpose, as that of the other Evangelists, is not to provide us with a tape-recording of Christ’s words, but to tell us their meaning. And it is only those who do not believe in the inspiration of the Gospels who will find in this any cause for anxiety, lest perhaps the Evangelists have falsified or misrepresented Christ’s intentions.

If then Matthew frequently inserts his own explanation into the words of Christ, and if he alone has included the phrase about porneia in Christ’s teaching on divorce, it is highly probable that we should understand it as his commentary rather than as part of the actual teaching of Christ, who, as we have seen, would have had no reason to make any reference to it. It is Matthew who has to teach Christ’s legislation on marriage to Christians who have already experienced the controversy which led to the Council of Jerusalem and are living by its decree (Acts 15, A.D. 50 to 60). And it is Matthew who has to make it clear to them that Christ’s words forbidding divorce are not to be taken to mean that the kinship marriage mentioned in that decree is indissoluble. It is not. It is porneia, and does not come under Christ’s words about divorce.

CONCLUSION

This solution to the long disputed phrase seems to be the most satisfactory of those that are offered. If we have taken a long time in reaching it, it is only because we are so far removed from the circumstances in which Christ’s words were uttered and St Matthew’s Gospel was written. In itself the solution is simple. In view of the legislation made at Jerusalem about the time he was writing, St Matthew has added a clause to Christ’s teaching on divorce in order to tell his readers that marriages contracted contrary to the Jerusalem decree are not included in Christ’s prohibition. His original readers would have understood the reference without any difficulty. The parenthesis is indeed a short one, but the use of the word porneia would have recalled the Jerusalem decree to their minds immediately, and shown them the purpose of the clause. A modern author would obtain the same effect by relegating the clause to a footnote and adding a cross reference to Acts 15: 20.

The solution remains only one among several. This means that it is not certain. Let us repeat for the last time that it does not mean that Christ’s teaching on divorce is uncertain. However the phrase “except it be for fornication,” is translated, Christ’s words on the indissolubility of marriage are not in any way affected. They remain absolute, as is made clear by St Mark, St Luke and St Paul, and as is emphasised by the whole context of Christ’s ruling on the matter. If the Church continues to denounce divorce and to declare that Christian marriage is of its nature unbreakable, it is not out of a puritanical severity or a lack of sympathy with the difficulties of married life. It is out of sheer loyalty to the teaching of her founder, Jesus Christ.

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Christ Or Barabbas?

DANIEL A. LORD, S. J

INDEX

PHILO, SECRETARY OF PONTIUS PILATE, RETELLS TO HIS GRANDCHILDREN THE STORY OF AN ETERNAL CHOICE.

THIS is, my children, the most important story I know.

It belongs to the days of my youth. It has been repeated a thousand times every day of my life.

The story starts with Pilate and his charming wife, Procula. They were a remarkably devoted couple, deeply in love.

Considering the bickerings that filled the brief marriages popular in their Roman set, I found the affection of that couple charming and reassuring. So, since your grandfather was then a slave, I regarded it as my great good luck that I was bought to serve as social secretary to so gracious and affectionate a pair.

You know, of course, how when Procula became a Christian she gave me my freedom. Of Pilate you have often heard. Pontius Pilate bought me straight from my masters, who had trained me well for my life’s work. He presented me to Procula, mentioning in a half-joke the exorbitant price he paid for me. But when he left us, Procula gave me my instructions in that calm musical voice of hers.

“Naturally,” she explained, “his Excellency will have his official corps of secretaries. Rome sends a gover nor well equipped for his assignment. Your office is more personal. You will serve my husband and myself. I understand that the etiquette of Jerusalem is very complex. Have you, by any chance, ever lived in Jerusalem?” Regretfully I confessed that I had not. On the other hand, my ethics master, an old genius we called Diogenes, hoping he’d find in one of us pupils an honest man, had had a great affection for Jewish thought.

“He believed in but one God,” I explained. “To him many gods seemed as absurd almost as no God at all. So he talked reverently of the Jewish religion and often took us in imagination down the streets of Jerusalem to the Temple. I feel I know Jerusalem well.”

“Good,” was her comment. “I think that I, too, believe in but one God. At least, some day when we come to the Temple.

But that is not business. As I explained, my husband and I shall share your services, Philo, as”-she smiled with that sweet queenliness of hers-”we have a way of sharing all the better things that heaven sends us.”

So I found my work pleasant when we reached Jerusalem.

I set myself to learn the Jewish customs so that Pilate, who had a way of thinking long after his actions were completed, wouldn’t smash too many of the traditions and prejudices of a difficult people. I usually told whatever I thought important first to the Lady Procula; and she, I noticed, placed her gentle fingers directively on the muscular arm of her impulsive and honest but hot-headed and ambitious husband.

Since the business and social life of a Roman governor must inevitably intertwine, my post as social secretary brought me close to that incident which beyond all others affected my life.

No, my children: I did not see Jesus die.

I should have asked leave to follow the execution party up to the nearby hill where they crucified Him; but it was my duty to stay close to Procula and her troubled husband. Once the party had left the courtyard, Calvary-bound, I stayed in my little office (it adjoined Pilate’s study), where I could be reached easily through the bell rope in Procula’s suite.

All during that long, late, hot, stormy afternoon, the lightning cracked like a blood-red whip about the towers of the Temple. The roars of the mob melted into the roars of thunder and the quaking of the earth. I sat in my office and awaited orders; few came.

Instead, I heard the governor walking up and down in his study, pacing back and forth on a senseless guard duty. He was a sentry with no one any longer to guard.

Occasionally Procula rang the bell, which I answered immediately.

All she asked was whether Pilate had inquired for her, whether he had seen anyone, how he seemed, whether there was news of the execution.

I could give her only vague answers. The soldiers had been instructed to stay with Jesus until He was dead. Then because the assignment was an unpleasant one, the soldiers had been given leave for the night.

Captain Longinus finally came back to report.

One of the official secretaries received him, announced him, and opened the door for him into Pilate’s office.

Yet in the interval between the opening and the closing of the door I heard Pilate bark at him, “If the man’s dead already, he’s an impostor-as they said.”

Captain Longinus replied in a queer, twisted, awestruck voice, “Impostor, sir? Why this man was really the Son of God.”

“Nonsense,” shouted Pilate.

And the door closed behind them.

Later the high priests came back. In their insulting fashion they again demanded that Pilate come out to speak with them. They had the brass nerve to imagine even after their work of that day that anything could contaminate them further.

Procula came out on to her balcony and listened to them make their demand-a guard this time, to keep “the impostor” from rising from the grave. But I noticed that she was not watching the priests; her brooding love was focussed upon her husband.

A guard for the impostor! The old philosophical instinct which my logic master in Corinth had nurtured in my mind found itself playing with a delicious dilemma. .

If the man is dead and a fake, went the dilemma, forming itself in my mind, the guards are a waste of effort. If the man is dead and is all that He claims to be, is it even imaginable that a handful of soldiers will keep Him in the tomb?

Pilate, however, gave the priests the squad they asked for-but with the air of handing them an insult. Then-though Procula leaned far forward to attract his attention-he stamped back to his study, sent his valet for a jar of special wine (the kind he drank, not because it was pleasant, but because it was strong), and shot the bolt across his door. Though I waited until midnight, dozing at my desk, he made no effort to reach me or through me, his sleepless wife.

That was the first rift between the two of them. She had never quarrelled with him; she did not quarrel with him now. Even through his later disgrace she followed him against his desire. But it was as if on that day they had begun to walk two different paths. They had come to the fork-shall I say the cross? They went their individual ways.

Strange that to every man-and woman, too, as a matter of course-comes a moment when he or she must make a clear choice between diverging paths. Though I owed a loyalty to both, my choice proved to be along Procula’s road.

Yet on that day I could almost see them swinging away from each other. The terrible part of it all was that Pilate himself had carved out the fork of the road with what he thought was a smart gesture.

So that was the great episode of my life, my children. Once to every man there comes an all-important choice. A hundred times a day that choice is repeated.

But let’s go back to the time when concretely, in the person of three men, I saw choice thrust into the face of an era, a nation, perhaps a world.

The night before that eventful day Pilate had ordered me to sit at table with Procula and himself. That was, of course, a kindness and an honour. Yet I knew that I was invited because of the half-dozen questions that he wanted to toss at me, questions of local custom and current prejudices, of the transiently important people on the current scenes, the powerful who dominate a brief generation.

Besides, during a dinner like this, he might flip me a dozen quick orders to note down on my tablet.

But I liked to dine with them. Even a slave could not forget that he was a man.

Pilate came to dinner that night glowering like an equinoctial sky. Procula kissed his cheek as she always did, pulled him down on his comfortable couch, clapped her hands for service, and then tried to woo him out of his savage-or was it merely stormy?-mood. But he would not be cajoled.

“I don’t like the whole business,” he cried, pushing away from him the boned squab which he usually devoured with relish.

“The whole business?” asked Procula, playing, as good wives should, both echo and prompter.

“The priests demanded a company to augment their Temple guards. Naturally I had to grant their request.”

“Why?” asked Procula, using that provocative query that so often found the holes in his logic.

“Why? Great gods, woman! It’s their big feast, the . . .” he hesitated, looking to me for the name of the day.

“Passover,” I supplied.

“Passover,” he repeated. “And every Jew in the plagued country begins to sniff freedom and to bay for it. They have some sort of dinner tonight that commemorates . . . ah. . . .”

“Their escape from Egypt,” I footnoted.

“Egypt or Rome, what difference does it make to them? It’s the escape they itch for. Every second man walking the streets tonight thinks himself a divinelyappointed deliverer sent to smite the Romans and exalt the sons of David. They’ll drag their hidden swords out of their cells tonight and brawl onany excuse or none. Why we’d double the patrols on a night like this even without Him. . . .”

“Him?” prompted Procula.

It was plainly a superfluous question, for I had stood beside her on her balcony when, on the preceding Sunday, he had made His triumphal entry into the city. I knew how impressed she’d been, less with what He did than with what He didn’t do; less with the mad excitement of the people than with His calmness in the midst of it.

Even then Pilate had had half a mind to clap Him into gaol. But Procula had quietly advised his letting the excitement simmer down. Time would tell whether or not the man was merely another like a dozen they had seen before Him. Besides, just then, with the mob at fever heat for Him. . . .

So when she repeated, “Him?” we both knew she had in her mind a very clear picture of Jesus.

Pilate raged at her.

“What other him could there be right now except the one they seem bent on making their king? And Caesar has a way of not liking unapproved kings. But the priests have me in a corner this time. I”m sick of them, every one of them buying his office like a cheap provincial politician.

“Yet they put the case clearly: If there was a riot tonight. . . . if I had refused them the collaboration of the soldiers. . . . if He started trouble, came back from hiding and roused them to battle . . .”

Pilate plunged a spoon deep into the sherbet before him.

“Oh!” he moaned, “why didn’t I draw a peaceful province instead of this madhouse of religion, politics, business, faith, and cynicism all rolled into one, a province where saints wear camel’s hair and scamps dress in the purple and fine linen of the priesthood?”

“No matter what the province,” Procula reminded him, “you should have had to make decisions, important ones. I”m glad we came here.”

He looked at her quizzically.

“Sometimes I think you like their religion.”

“I should have hated,” she countered, “not having had at least a glimpse of Him.” She used the pronoun again, as if a name were unnecessary.

“Well,” said her husband, sourly, “if He’s in Jerusalem tonight. He’ll be slapped into prison fast enough. The priests are seeing to that. So you’ve no chance to see Him, unless you’ve a mind to visit the cell-block.”

He cracked a sweet hard cake between his strong teeth.

“What has He done?” his wife asked.

“Nothing, as yet. I”11 let the Jews keep Him in prison until their holiday is over, and then. . . .”

I took the cue.

“There’s a custom, you recall, my lord, that at the Passover you release to the Jews a prisoner, usually a political one.”

“No need for that. He’s not a prisoner; just in protective confinement. Now, there’s a phrase, by the way! I”11 suggest it to Caesar . . . protective confinement. . . .”

He reached for the dish of nuts and figs.

“And in a few days I”11 turn Him loose again. But I suppose we’ll have the same trouble over and over and over . . . new leaders . . . new causes . . .”

“Unless,” suggested Procula, softly, “He is the end of some thing very old and the beginning of something very new.”

Pilate looked at his wife affectionately and then at me.

“Philo,” he said, “I”d give my slight education and all your training in philosophy for a little of the faith that always seems to be waking in my wife’s blue eyes.”

That was all. Shortly afterwards the dinner ended, and they dismissed me for the evening.

I slept restlessly. When I woke in my dark room, which adjoined my office, I could see a light in Procula’s apartments. That was unusual, for she even boasted and laughed about her profound sleeps.

The sentries before Pilate’s suite had been doubled, and through the silence I could hear their steady, steel-emphasized tread. But beyond that, there were portents that I could feel without seeing, as if significant things were happening, things that impended tragedy. The great dramatists love to note them.

So I was not surprised that before the break of dawn a messenger came running along the corridors. I heard him rap one of the political secretaries out of bed, and together they cameto Pilate’s bedroom, knocking on his door, first lightly, and then with stern insistence.

I thought to myself: “They would be up early, those priests!”

I lit the wick that was floating in my lamp and dressed myself, convinced that the day ahead would be busy, occupied. Little I knew how full it was to be!

My bell soon tinkled, and I hurried to Procula’s apartments. Her maid admitted me and stood near the door while we talked. Pilate’s wife was fully dressed for the day, and, though I know little enough of women-folk, I could tell that she had slept less well than had I.

She was at her desk, writing. When I had entered, she folded the sheet, sealed it with her ring, and handed the letter to me.

“Please give this to my Lord Pilate the first chance you get,” she said. “But if word of mouth should prove quicker, hold him long enough to say just this: “Your lady sends you this urgent message in writing and by my lips: “Please don’t let yourself be involved in any attempt to sentence this just man. I know He is not guilty, whatever the charges brought against Him. I had a dream about Him last night-perhaps more than a dream. Take the word of your wife, my husband; He is an innocent man.”

I bowed myself out, little guessing that hours would pass, crowded hours, before I should find time enough with Pilate to give him that message. Intuition told me, though, that late or early the message would bear no fruit with him.

Straightway we plunged into that feverish morning. It was broken open by the arrival of the Temple guards dragging Jesus, to Whom, you could see at a glance, they had given a bad night of it.

Pilate summoned me, and I found him fuming.

“What in hades does this mean?” he demanded. “These priests drag me out of bed at cockcrow, and then they decline to come inside to see me. They tell me that I must go outdoors to meet them.”

It was a ticklish point, and I hesitated to explain that their entering his palace would contaminate them-or so they disdainfully thought.

“On their major feast days,” I began, tentatively, “when once they have been ritualistically purified—“Great gods on Olympus!” he swore. “Am I dirt and pollution that they cannot enter my house without their being soiled?”

I fumbled forProcula’s note . . . for the exact words. “Sir, the Lady Procula, your wife-,” I began.

He cut me short.

“Tell her to pray whatever gods preside over human tempers to help me keep mine,” he fairly roared, and he dashed out to meet the priests and their prisoner.

When he finally came back to his study, he was rubbing his hands-as he usually did whenever he had executed a skilful diplomatic trick. I”m sorry to say he had to wipe his sword more often than he rubbed his hands, poor fellow.

But for a moment I thought that, even though the message had not been delivered, his wife had prevailed.

“Philo,” he cried, as he passed me, “I”ve washed by hands of the nasty business. He turns out to be one of Herod’s subjects. And though I think Herod a stink in the nose of Rome, I have rid myself of a decision and paid that rotten old fool a compliment: I told them to march the prisoner off to Herod’s court. Let Herod make the decision.” Pilate grinned in sheer delight. “You can bet that the priests were furious with me- in their usual diplomatic way, of course, but boiling with rage nonetheless. Tell the Lady Procula, will you?”

“The Lady Procula will be glad,” I began, “for she commanded me to tell you-”

But the door of his study slammed between us. I hurried off to bring the good news to Procula. To my amazement she took the turn of events first in surprise and then in sadness.

“That won’t do,” she said, as if to herself. “That won’t do at all.” She raised her gentle eyes to look at me. “I don’t know why, Philo, but I have the feeling that this is a man about whom no one can be neutral. You must be for Him or against Him. You can’t get out of it by saying, “Let Herod make the decision,” and then shrug Him off your shoulders. It’s as silly as if you tried to wash Him away by pouring water over your hands.” She lapsed into thought with herself once more.

“Pilate, my sweet husband! If this were the solution. . . .” She turned to me again. “Be sure he gets my message. Be Very sure.”

But before I could get past the routine visitors who thronged the corridors, I heard the tide of the mob pouring back to overwhelm us. By this time the sun was well into the heart of the morning, and the crowd was now swollen as if the spring warmth had turned every side street into a tributary river.

Secretaries began to weave back and forth, out to the priests, back to Pilate, passing me on the run. One of them, Plato, an old friend of mine, paused, as he was racing down the corridor, to give me the latest news.

“He’s having the prisoner in. Pilate’s in an ugly mood about it. He sneered when he said, “Bring the fellow in. Since He’s practically an outcast from His people, I don’t suppose that the house of a Roman governor could contaminate Him much more deeply.””

That sounded typical of Pilate’s irony. But before Plato was out of sight, my bell rang again, and I hurried to Lady Procula.

“Did you give him my message?” she demanded. She was standing near the balcony window that overlooked the sweeping steps of the palace on which the priests and the mob were now jammed.

“My lady,” I began, “I sincerely tried, but he-”

For once my lady flamed into temper. Her hand was a chill, imperious command.

“Did I say try? I said give it to him. And instantly. Do you want the death of an innocent man on the souls of us all?”

So this time I braved his wrath, pushed secretaries and sentries out of my way, and thrust myself into his office. Then seeing the impatience in his face, I handed him the note, kneeling.

He read it abstractedly, crumpled it thoughtfully and tossed it on to the table before him.

“I know, I know,” he said, absently. “Roman justice and my own common sense both tell me not to get myself caught in the priests” trap. You may tell the Lady Procula that. But”- his mouth twisted in what was not quite a smile-”at a time like this to bother me with dreams-”

Then the door opened, and Temple guards thrust Jesus through the archway.

He was now far from looking the conqueror who, on the preceding Sunday, had ridden in triumph through the city. What they had done to Him, I did not then know. But He stood there covered with mud and filth. His hands were bound behind Him, pulling Him back awkwardly, and His garments reeked with discolouring sweat and occasional dull streaks of blood. His right cheek was torn, as if someone had hit Him with the brass knuckles of a boxer. He was a wrecked man, no doubt of it.

Yet for all that, and despite the unbalancing push of the guards, who shoved Him in and then withdrew from the contaminating presence of us Gentiles, He seemed a peer meeting peer. I had the feeling that authority was facing authority- though how He conveyed that impression in His bedraggled state, I cannot be sure.

I do know, though, that Pilate, who had seated himself in order to judge the man, now rose to his feet as in the presence of an equal. An equal merely? Or was the rising a gesture of honour to a superior?

I bowed-half to Pilate, half (though I had not meant to) to the prisoner-left the room, and pulled the door behind me. After that I stood around, even though the sentries glared at me. I was rooted by my uncontrollable interest to the spot.

Rome builds the doors of its palaces soundproof and force proof. So all I could catch was the faintest murmur of alternating voices. Fantastically I kept thinking: “This is not an interview between a judge and a criminal. This is an interchange of equals engaged in man-toman debate.”

But though I strained, I could catch not one of the words.

Pilate himself swung open the door. Amazingly enough he was leaving behind him, unguarded, a prisoner in his study.

When he saw me, he grinned once more that ironic quizzical smile.

“He’s more in your line, Philo, than mine. I”ve half a mind to let you try your Greek philosophy on Him.”

My interest was apparent enough to need no words.

“I have Him on trial for His life, and He starts talking about truth.” Pilate actually laughed.

This time my interest forced itself into speech.

“What truth?” I begged. “What did He say about truth?”

“Great heavens, man! Have I time for trivialities when the fellow’s in danger of being torn to pieces by a mob?”

And he strode out to meet the priests and the people.

The roar of hatred with which they greeted him needed no commentary. Nor did I need to be present to see that contemptuous disdain with which I knew he regarded and silenced the dirty mob. Then his voice, wordless from the distance at which I stood, rose.

A pause . . . and there was no mistaking the answering roar.

What is there so unmistakable about a cry for blood? Such a cry rolled down the corridor now like some lurching, frothymouthed jungle animal. Clearly it was all directed at the man in Pilate’s study, this man about whom I had never heard any word that wasn’t a compliment.

I moved towards the open door and peered in. There He stood, this amazing man, who a few days before had aroused the mob to a frenzy of love and enthusiasm and who now waked the blood lust in the hearts of that same mob.

He seemed to have withdrawn Himself from them entirely. His head was slightly bent, as if He was thinking deeply or praying., About Him was no slightest trace of fear, no trembling anticipation of impending judgement, no mustering of forces to plead with the governor or cajole or win him to His side, no apparent care that a few feet away His fellowcountrymen were roaring for His death.

I stepped away from the door, completely puzzled, just as a final blast of fury from the mob seemed to hurl Pilate back down the corridor. I had seen him that way before-torn between emotions that racked his turbulent soul. It was his great weakness: he saw justice, yet feared to excite hatred of himself by his exercise of that justice. He could turn his eyes up the hard path, yet shiftily seek for some easy, down-sloping road.

He passed me without seeing me. I could not tell whether the drive of his movement down the corridor was in revulsion from the mob or attraction towards the man who stood quietly waiting for him in his study.

Then, with that sort of secondary recognition that snaps men out of abstractions, he recognized me and whirled upon me.

“You said something about a Jewish custom on their holidays,” he said, in a voice low, taut, terribly troubled.

My heart leaped.

Thank the gracious powers which had at the dinner the preceding evening made me refer to that strange tradition between Romans and Jews.

“Yes, my lord!” I replied eagerly. “On their greater feasts, of which this is one, the Roman governors usually please the mob by releasing a prisoner-”

“Good!” he interjected, and then stood, pulling at his chip with his powerful hand.

My heart was high. Here was glorious news for the Lady Procula. Her husband was going to find his way out of the horrible mess by turning loose to the mob the man whom, on the preceding Sunday, they had called their king.

But still Pilate did not move. He studied me with abstracted glance. I knew he hardly saw me. He was looking through me-to whom? I could not make out.

Suddenly he smiled. It was not a happy smile, merely one that suggested trickery, pleased subterfuge.

A deep, almost sinister, chuckle shook his body.

“Who’s the rottenest, filthiest, most debased criminal that befouls our dungeons?” he demanded.

The answer to that was almost too easy. Months before the soldiers had finally cornered in a dive of the city a fellow named Barabbas. I”11 tell you more of him presently. At that moment I was too amazed, too startled.

But I answered his impatient question.

“That’s Barabbas,” I said.

“Good!” he cried again, and whirled away from me, slamming the door behind himself and the prisoner.

What in heaven’s name did that mean?

I stood literally gnawing my nails. A political secretary who cordially disliked me happened to be standing near. Jealous of his prestige, he scoffed at me: “Why doesn’t he let you tend to your dinner engagements and your visiting lecturers? He might consult someone who knows about political matters.”

I turned from him angrily. The Lady Procula must know this strange question of her husband. I hurried to her apartments.

Pilate’s wife was in her apartments, of that I was sure. But when I knocked, with more violence than politeness and tact dictated, her prim little maid appeared.

“My lady,” she replied to my query, as if she were telling a little joke she secretly found delicious, “is at prayer and can not be disturbed.”

She closed the door in my face. I could almost fancy I heard her giggle.

Prayer at a time like this!

Prayer when action was called for!

Then the truth swept over me. Yes; of course; precisely at a time like this.

Perhaps if I had known in those distant days how to pray, I, too, should have lifted my arms. Prayer was exactly what was needed, prayer for courage and decision for Pilate, prayer for this man who was being bound tighter and tighter with the hangman’s ropes, prayer for all of us who were guilty of His blood.

As it was, I had only my cold Greek philosophy to counsel me. And it knew nothing of prayer. I faced the door that had been closed insolently in my face. Should I batter it down and demand to see Procula? Or should I—Again the roar of the mob cut across my consciousness. The note it struck was a new one. It was a cry that was hot and rancid with blood. They, the men and women of the mob, seemed to have tasted blood, to have smelled it, to have reached out their arms to bathe in it. I”ve heard the crowds in the arena yell like that when the Emperor turned to ask them their will about a fallen gladiator. “Shall we let him live, or will his conqueror dispatch him?” the Emperor asks. And blood streams in their voices as they yell their answer of death.

The cry I heard had exactly the same horrible pitch. There was no mistaking its meaning.

I dashed back to my office and to the little window that openedon the great marble stairs and porch of the governor’s palace.

The mob, mostly men and boys, but with a sprinkling of those women who hurry out to get their supreme thrill in the execution of man, had densely packed the approaches. They were up as far as the spears of the palace guards, who stood in a thin but immobile line around the platform itself. You could feel the soldiers” insolent strength as they pricked painfully the forward, and cuffed with a skilful snap of their elbows, the head of someone who had pushed too close or been shoved ahead by the surge of the mob.

There, on the platform, was Pilate-always dramatic at heart; and near him the figure of Jesus.

He stood there, that man, in the blinding light of the oriental sun. Whatever they had done to Him during the night in the dungeons of the Temple, whatever brutality He had suffered as they dragged Him about from court to court, now appeared under the ruthless blaze of the morning’s light.

Yet, for all the tattered condition of His garments and the filth that covered His face, He faced the mob without fear. Rather it was as if fear had been driven away by some deeper, truer emotion. His eyes moved across that mob, searching, questing. Whatever He looked for, He did not find it. Instead I saw Him wince from the blow that the mob hurled up into His face.

And what a blow it was.

For now they were howling. At first the howls were disjoined, the overlapping yells of a mob that has not as yet caught its rhythm. Yet even as I listened, the cries took on a measured beat that was pounded out by throats and hands and stamping feet.

“Let Him be crucified!

“Let Him be crucified!

“Let Him be crucified!”

I”ve heard the smelly crowds in our lustful theatre cry out like that: “We want more! We want more! We want more!”

I”ve heard the scum in the bleacher seats of the arena go crazy when they wanted a gladiator to die, and together took up that blood-beating chant, over and over and over: “Run the fellow through! Run the fellow through! Run the fellow through!”

That same kind of rhythm, like one huge, emotional pulse, beat around me now as I felt it beat against the amazed Pilate.

Then he lifted his arms, demanding silence, and in a voice long trained to control the forum crowds, he shouted at them:

“Why, what evil has He done?”

As if they cared!

Their only answer was the beat, beat, beat of that rhythm of death, as precisely accented as if a man with a staff were standing before them and thrashing out the time.

Pilate’s gesture of command was this time less imperious than worried. Two soldiers obeyed it by leaping to either side of the prisoner and hustling Him back into the protection of the palace. Pilate brought up an undignified rear. Clearly my governor was losing his dignity, as a man will when he is tossed between his own convictions and the cruel demands of some fierce temptation. I may be wrong, but he seemed to stagger a little as he passed through the enveloping archway.

Procula’s maid was at my elbow.

“My lady wishes to speak to you,” she said.

I could not even then resist the vanity of a bit of triumph.

“I knew she did when you slammed the door of her apartment in my face.”

Pilate’s wife was in the balconied window of her drawing room, a deep bay window that swept out over the crowd. She beckoned me to her the second I entered. Her nervous, sensitive hands had torn to pieces the handkerchief she carried. Now she caught me almost fiercely by the shoulder.

“What will become of him?” she demanded, her voice roughened with anxiety and terror. I thought she was referring to the prisoner.

“Don’t fear for Him quite yet,” I reassured her. “He will go free if your husband can manage it.”

“Oh,” she cried, shaking her head as if to toss away some thing unimportant, “I”m not worried about the prisoner. If my husband frees Him, that mob will find a thousand ways to kill Him, and for some reason He will not try to escape. They want His blood; it seems almost as if He wanted them to have it. So nothing, not my husband’s pardon or justice or luck, will stop Him from letting them drain it away. No, no. What I mean was, what will become of my husband, the Lord Pilate?”

My astonishment left me with nothing to say.

“Madame,” I protested, at long last, “you speak as if it were your husband on trial, not-”

Her voice took on so much force that I stepped back almost as if she had struck me.

“He is on trial. It’s my husband who’s on trial, not that man. The man is innocent though doomed-heaven knows why. But my husband, what will become of him?” Her speech came in gasps. “This. . . . . doesn’t he see it. . . . . This is the great trial. . . . .his greatest. . . . . maybe the greatest in all history. . . . He must make the choice . . . not the mob . . . not the priests. . . . . The choice is his to make . . . an eternal choice. . . . He cannot escape it. . . . He must not escape it.” She paused, and her voice sank till it was almost like a prayer. “Oh, he must make it right. He must make it right forever.”

I started to tell her about Barabbas and her husband’s query.

She gave me no chance. She flung her scarf around her shoulders.

“No matter what custom, law, or the proprieties say,” she cried, justifying herself to me, “I am going to him. This is the time he needs me and all I can give him.”

She fairly raced towards the hall door. But it was too late. Another roar from the crowd reached me.

“Madame,” I called, stopping her, “they have come out on the porch again.”

She pushed past me to the window. We strained together over the drama that filled the platform and the steps below.

Pilate had returned, his forehead knitted into a thick, black hedge of eyebrows, his lips a straight, thin, cynical line. I saw him glance, almost as if for prompting, at the figure of the prisoner. But the man was immobile. His eyes now fixed on some faraway point that none of us could see. He seemed to be travelling from the present day down into some remote, not-yet-happened era of history.

Filthy, begrimed as He was, He was the only one master of the situation, a king among rebellious courtiers, not just a prisoner among accusers and judges.

A king?

How was it possible to use the word king to designate that bloody, mud-stained, beaten figure there on the platform? Yet, I knew that I had used it. I use it again.

“God of the Jews and of all the world,” I heard Procula whisper, “make my husband choose right. . . . Give him the courage he needs to-”

Pilate’s arm shot into the air to command silence. For a moment he might as well have played stage magician to the thunderstorms over the lakes of Galilee. Then the innate power of the governor, and the Rome he represented, triumphed. Over the crowd came an abrupt, heavily-charged silence, the more terrible because it succeeded an uproar and preceded- heaven knew what.

“He is going to release Him!” The Lady Procula’s fingers dug into my arm, for what she said was less a statement than another prayer.

I waited for a signal that would send the soldiers down into the mob to disperse the people in double time and cut a road for the prisoner’s freedom. But the signal did not come.

Instead a smile suddenly curved Pilate’s lips in that sinister irony I knew so well. He always smiled that way when he was about to make a sharp play. I remembered he had smiled thus when he told the Jews that Rome would insist on taxes, but, if they wished, they might collect them themselves. He had smiled that way when he told the Jewish merchants who came to secure army contracts that, since they had agreed among themselves to exact exorbitant prices they might also deliver their provisions-two hundred miles away in the heart of the hill country-on camels they themselves were to provide.

That was his smart smile, his diplomatic smile, the smile that meant he had the trick and was just about to draw it to him.

“You have a custom . . .” he began, and I almost laughed. Or I would have, had not the remembrance of his query about Barabbas chilled me.

Procula sighed in sheer relief. I knew what she was thinking. Her husband was going to play the magnanimous and release this prisoner on the feast. He was going to honour the Jewish Passover with clemency to a condemned man, but he himself would pick the condemned man. And, of course, the man he’d choose was the prisoner on the platform.

His voice grew suave, almost affectedly cultured, as he went on with his statement of clemency and forgiveness. The crowd stood there silent, stunned.

Smart Pilate! I, too, could have laughed aloud in my relief. Yet, even as I did, I heard the sharp intake of the Lady Procula’s breath. Her whole expression changed.

“Oh!” she gasped. And again, “Oh! This is no time for diplomacy. No trick can possibly save Him now. Why doesn’t he take a stand? Why doesn’t he cry out, “The man is not guilty, and He goes free”? Anything else is dodging . . . folly . . . will only make them mad . . . wild with rage . . . trap him in the trap he sets for them. . . .”

She cut into her own cry. For in a magnificently dramatic gesture Pilate signalled an officer of the guard.

“Quick,” cried Procula, “Go down and find out what he’s doing. Hurry!”

I dashed down the stairs and caught the officer as he swung into the palace. “The Lady Procula asks to know what orders you received.”

The officer, a young dandy serving his foreign duty and hating his exile from Rome, made a wry face.

“Smelly orders, if a fellow ever got them. Did you ever hear of a felon named Barabbas?”

Hear of him? I”d named him myself. The whole city stank with his filth and crime.

“Well, believe it or not, I”m to drag him out of his dungeon and out on to that platform. Thank the gods for strong, protecting gloves. To think that I came to this mad country to play guard to that mass of offal!”

He ordered four soldiers to heel. The squad was heading for the passageway to the dungeons when I raced back to my lady.

“I don’t know why,” I began, still breathless from my running, “but he has ordered Barabbas from solitary confinement. . . .”

The Lady Procula recognized the name at once. Who wouldn’t? Once in a while some particularly obnoxious villain comes our way, and we are not likely to forget that seven-day wonder of crime.

This fellow had made treason an art and a science. First, he fought the Romans, stealthily, beyond our conviction, with a knife thrust in the neck of some lone sentry. For that deed he posed before his fellow Jews as a national hero. Then-and I had seen the record of payments-he tricked the Jews, turned in to our office the names of fellow conspirators, and got drunk with the traitorous silver we paid him-while his fellows were weeping their fate into his wine stoup.

Romans and Jews alike wearied of him at long last. We had swooped down on him a fortnight before, while the blood of murder was still wet on his hands. A Jew’s? a Roman’s? a girl’s? On whose pitiful earnings was he taking a holiday? Who knew? We booked him for murder during sedition, and I”m sure the Jews themselves were glad enough to be free of this cheating double-crosser.

Yes; the Lady Procula and I both knew his record. What possible place could he fill in this drama before us? I feared; I was not sure.

Procula pressed far forward towards the curtained window. I strained beside her for a glimpse of this new scene. Events came with a rush.

Through the open door the soldiers thrust the blinking, bearded, filthy murderer. The young officer was dusting the tips of his gloves, as if even remote contact must be brushed away. The murderer lurched to the left of Pilate and stood there glaring out at the crowd.

Even one murder leaves its mark on a man. Repeated killings and frequent baths in blood twist the mouth and sear the eyes and pull the human face into a brutish mask. Barabbas blinked at the sunlight, his eyes having become accustomed to the blackness of his solitary cell.

Automatically he rubbed his hands up and down his filthy clothes, as if he were trying to rub away the dry blood that still clung to them. The crowd regarded him in stunned silence. They knew him for what he was; a few who were near him drew back out of reach of his gorilla-like claws.

He leered out at the people. I could almost imagine his wish: “Oh, that they had but one throat, and I could slit it!”

Then he glanced contemptuously, insolently, at the white robed, purple-cloaked, immaculate Pilate, who deigned him not a look. He let his gaze pass on, shoving his head crudely forward to the prisoner who stood beyond. His pig eyes opened a little in interest. Then, estimating the other man from the mud and filth and blood and ropes, he dismissed Him as an unimportant interloper.

Over the mob had come a deathly pause. They seemed hardly to breathe. Clearly they sensed some trick that Pilate, smart Roman, meant to play on them, and they braced them selves not to be outwitted but to fool him if they could.

From my vantage point in the high window I could see the priests moving in and out among the crowd, pulling heads down to their lips, whispering into willing ears, sending out through the crowd little ripples of men I recognized as Pharisees, talking fast, patting shoulders, gesturing with a thumb thrown back at the three on the platform.

Pilate’s restless glance searched the mob nervously. Perhaps it was the compelling eagerness of his wife that pulled his look our way. He saw Procula; for a moment he seemed almost to wince; then he broke into a smile that was meant for reassurance. He made a swift, intimate gesture, one the like of which she must have seen him make a thousand times before. Even I could read its meaning.

“Don’t worry,” it told her. “Your smart husband has out witted these dull fools. The prisoner will go free.”

“Oh, no,” I heard her answer the gesture. “That’s not the way. . . . No trick will serve . . . only courage . . . the clear choice . . . justice . . .”

Pilate actually walked towards the mob, suddenly smiling and ingratiating

“Men,” he began, at long last, “since I must by custom release to you a prisoner, you can make your choice. It should be easy. Which do you prefer? There’s Barabbas”-the gesture by which he indicated the insolent murderer was eloquent insult. “Or would you prefer Jesus, whom you call, I believe, your Christ and king?”

“God of Abraham!” I heard Procula cry. It might have been a prayer; it might have been an appeal wrenched by horror. “What have you done, my husband? What have you done?”

That puzzled me. For my part, I wanted to bow to Pilate’s acumen. The governor had never been cleverer. He had promised to outwit them, and he had kept his word.

For, as be made, the offer, the crowd seemed visibly to wilt, to pull away. Barabbas let his mouth fall open in angry dismay. He didn’t know this other prisoner, but he knew himself. In all that crowd out there there was not a man for whom he had done a favour, not a woman whom he would not rake with lusting eyes.

The crowd knew him well. They had no desire to bring back into their midst this unrepentant murderer. They slept more easily because he was locked in gaol. Their nights were quieter because he was not brawling abroad. They passed dark alleyways less fearfully because the law had wrenched the dagger from his hand. They felt safe once more about their daughters” going to the market or to the brook to pound the clothes. They were glad that one villain less waited to teach their young sons the tricks of crime.

Their fickle attention, diverted from the man at Pilate’s right to this obviously guilty villain, knew now only the presence- foul, stinking, infectious-of the murderer and traitor. Him they surely did not want.

But if themob was knocked into a daze by the possibility of Barabbas” return to freedom among them, the priests and the Pharisees braced themselves to match this trick of the smart Pilate. Better any villain than the prisoner they hated, the prisoner who called Himself king. I could see their hands raised to recall the mob’s slipping attention to the silent figure on Pilate’s right. Quite true, the alternative was a murderer dragged from a filthy cell. But did Pilate think he would fool them into rejecting the murderer and lifting their arms to accept the Christ?

A single voice (I could see the waggling beard of the priest to whom it belonged) sent up the first keynoting cry. “Away with this man! Give us Barabbas!” it screamed.

Pilate visibly winced. His attention was wrenched in the direction of the voice. The priest grinned back at him as one who has outplayed the trickster and is ready to sweep in the stake.

For a dozen echoes in the crowd took up the cry.

“Away with this man! Give us Barabbas!” they screamed. I could still pick out the isolated shouters, all well-dressed men, leaders of the people, proud of their secure position and determined that no upstart should make it insecure.

Then, across the crowd, back and forth, from side to side, first in a horrible blur of sound and then once more in measured, blood-rhythmic chant went that call of rejection, that horrible free choice of evil.

“Away with Him! Give us Barabbas!”

The window of Procula’s apartment abutted well out over the platform. It was easy to see the expressions of the three faces. I peered at them, drinking in the awful contrasts.

Barabbas lifted his great hairy face swiftly, as if the cry had hit him on the chin and driven his head backwards. He could hardly believe what he heard. They had chosen him. Indeed, they were clamouring for him. If they had their way, in a few minutes he would be turned loose. His fingers closed as over the shaft of a knife. I could almost see the mad insect thoughtsmaggoting in his brain; he knew a little merchant shop that waited looting . . . an alleyway that led. . . . .

They wanted him. What a joke! What a rich, fruity joke! What had he ever done for them? Suddenly he put his hands on his hips and roared with great obscene guffaws. They were sending him back to his lust and robbery and murder, to a chance to play Roman against Jew and Jew against Roman. They wanted him. By God! they’d know-and know well- that he was back among them.

Then some twist in his stunted brain made him look towards the other man. So this was the fellow they were shoving aside in his favour! Well, he didn’t know a thing about Him. But what a scamp the fellow must be! The very fact that the people preferred him, Barabbas, to this scoundrel was commentary enough. This must be a very prince of rogues, the greatest villain of the piece.

Even from my vantage I could see his heavy, lustful lip curl in scorn and a look of deep contempt poison his expression.

He leaned forward a little and spat in the direction of the other man.

And that other man?

For the first time He looked straight at the mob.

Never in all my life have I seen so much meaning gathered into a single look. “What have I done to you that you treat me like this?” it seemed to say. Or was it rather, “What could I have done for you that I did not do?”

It was our business, we who lived in the governor’s palace, to know a little about everyone and much about those who rose above the crowds. So I knew more about Jesus than I dared to confess. I had listened once when, from a hillside, He had talked, talked as no man I had ever heard before. I had followed Him once through a village and seen the lame leap up at His coming and the blind cry out at their sudden vision of the sun.

I had learned that He raised the dead to life. Lepers came into His shadow and were healed.

I had searched for even the slightest gossip that might breathe evil of Him, and I had found none. There were lies, of course. What great man has ever escaped them? But these were too transparent to wear even the temporary mask of credibility. The record we had of Him was one of wisdom making itself clear in stories simple enough for the most illiterate, of a life of useful labour in obscure Nazareth, of service that did not hesitate to lift to health the slave-boy of a Roman captain, of love that seemed to bind Him to every man and woman He met.

I had heard that He had a special tenderness for outcasts-fallen women, tax collectors, those whom the Jews despised, those whose diseases made them nauseous to the delicate.

I knew all that-as you, my children, know it so well today.

Yet, as His tortured eyes searched that mob for one friendly face, they found nothing but the grotesques carved by hatred and disgust and revulsion. What mad thing had entered their souls? How could they hold out their arms to a murderer and fling aside the man who had done them nothing but gentleness and kindness and good?

Then I saw Pilate.

His head seemed almost to sway from side to side, like a fighter battered by a pugilist whose strength the victim has underestimated.

He turned first in acute disgust to Barabbas, then in amazement to the rejected man on his right. He peered forward, almost nearsightedly, at the crowd, as if he were convinced that here was some optical illusion that must inevitably melt into a reassuring reality. He brought up his restless hands and folded them over his chest; then he sent the nervous fingers of his right hand along his cheek. He seemed about to look up at us, but thought better of it and stared instead at the blank platform near his feet.

All the while around him the clamour of the crowd grew in volume. The roar seemed a thing of physical strength that would soon pick him up and sweep him before it.

Procula’s voice spoke again. She was not talking to me. . . . not talking to anyone near her, but reaching through space to wards her husband, reaching, groping, struggling with all the power of her love to bolster his courage, push him the right way.

“Choose!” I heard her breathe. “Choose now before it is too late. The choice is not merely theirs to make, not the mob’s. It is yours, my husband . . . it is mine. . . . It is Philo’s . . . it is the choice of every man and every woman that lives. Choose! Choose with men the Christ Who loves us, not the evil thing who murders our souls. Choose, my husband, choose!”

He chose. But once again it was not so much choice as a flight from choice.

Dramatically, he washed his hands. Dramatically he dared them to call down upon their guilty heads the blood of the innocent. He stood aside disdainfully while the mob rushed the platform, lifted the still bemused and roaring Barabbas over their heads, and carried him away in triumph, as if he had been a conquering hero and a great benefactor.

About Him was formed a military square, and He was marched down the stairs and around to the courtyard, where, I knew, there rested against the cement wall crosses waiting to be sorted according to the weight of the condemned.

Pilate turned once more to the crowd, not knowing whether to be furious with himself or with them for the trick that had failed. I saw him push back with his booted foot a face that thrust itself up over the edge of the platform. He flung his long, purple cloak around his shoulder and over his white toga and stalked into the palace.

Outside the roaring crowd waited impatiently for the reappearance of the innocent man they had voted the cross.

Slowly the Lady Procula turned from the window, her fists tightly clenched, her body rigid with pain, with horror- was it with determination, too?

“You and I did not answer his challenge, Philo,” she said, not looking at me. “We did not make our choice.”

Ah, but I had. Futile as my choice seemed, I had not chosen with the mob. There had been no mistaking the alternative directed to all of us. One had had to choose, as she herself had seen, between the murderer of souls and bodies and the greatest person that ever lived.

“My lady,” I answered, very quietly, “I made my choice. How could I take the murderer when my heart reached out to Jesus, Who is rightly called the Christ?”

She walked across the room, talking quietly as she walked.

“And I, too, have chosen. You are right. Who possibly could have chosen otherwise?” Then she wheeled sharply, and her voice rose like a wail. “Ah, but he did. He chose the murderer, the mob, the pride of the priests, the terrorism of the crowd, his future with Caesar . . . He chose all that instead of the Saviour.”

Another twist and she almost ran across the room and towards the door.

“Yet it is not too late. If he will let me, I will help him repair that choice. . . .”

He gave a half-hearted signal by which the soldiers pushed back the men who had surged around the prisoner on the right.

Her cry faded as she flung herself out of the doorway.

But that, my children, was the beginning of the parting of their ways. I knew it then. I saw it more clearly during the next few months. He had had the great moment of his life, the chance to be the protector anddefender of the world’s Saviour, and he had not dared to choose. She had reached out her heart to Christ and made the great choice. Life for each of them could never travel the same roads.

I wept for him. She wept, I know. Perhaps in the end, even as he fell from the cliff in suicide, he undid the past and made that choice. Who knows? Sometimes in this, my old age, I live that scene again. Suppose I had chosen the murderer? I can hear that mob crying out for blood and see the three figures standing there, like good and evil and indecision incarnate. There was Pilate, so sure of his trick; and Barabbas, murder done and more murder still ahead; and Jesus, the lover of mankind. And I shudder that I might have chosen wrong.

Yet, a thousand times a day that choice must be made. You must make it, my children; and I must, over and over again.

Shall we pick the murderer, lust, in place of the pure Christ?

Shall we pick that evil, foul thought before the sweet image of the man God?

Shall we reach out our hands for sin and evil when we can take into our arms the Saviour of the world?

Once, long ago, I made my choice-yes, and a thousand times since.

But poor Pilate! Poor mob! Poor sinful men and women!

My children, what is the choice you will make now and at every blistering moment of temptation?

Christ or Barabbas?

Life or death?

Sin the murderer or the faith and love that make men free?

Nihil Obstat:

P. Jones,

Censor Deputatus.

Imprimatur:

@ D. Mannix,

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis 12th Oct. 1958

********

Christ Our Leader

INTRODUCTION

INDEX

Everyone is interested in developing personality. Catholic leaders (and indeed, all Catholics) are no exception, nor should they be. Through perfecting their own personalities they can more frequently lead others to Christ.

Some persons think that they can, by imitating someone else, make their personalities the same as the one who is admired. This is not only difficult, it is a practical impossibility because each individual’s personality is totally different from everyone else’s.

Personality is not a mere matter of one quality or another; it is (not to become too technical) the sum total of the characteristics, tendencies, abilities, background, culture—in fact, of everything that makes up or constitutes an individual—and the way these things and the composite of these qualities impress other people.

If it were possible to find a perfect personality, then it would be not only desirable, but sensible and intelligent to try to acquire the characteristics of that person.

There has been one Personality Who throughout two thousand years has been found perfect. This Person is so attractive that, He has drawn others to Him, has inspired others to follow Him. If we, then; as Catholics and Catholic leaders, would wish others to be attracted to us and to follow us in our aim to extend Christ’s Kingdom, we should try to be perfect, to be like Him.

THE PERFECT PERSONALITY BELONGS TO CHRIST

1. Christ is the perfect model for all personalities: Christ practised all virtues even to the point of heroism. His motives were always perfect.

Christ was in perfect accord with the wishes and the will of God: He loved His fellow-men with a love greater than any other man: He loathed sin and all approaches to sin, even while loving the sinner: His Personality still holds a universal appeal. All classes, all nations, all ages of both sexes, find Him attractive. Christ’s Personality is magnetic, drawing all people to Himself, as a powerful magnet. His Personality is capable of powerful imitation, permitting the most learned and the most ignorant, the humble, the poor, and the sick—all to learn to imitate Him because He is all-perfect.

2. Christ is capable of imitation. In becoming Man. Christ became like to us in all things except sin. For thirty years He led an ordinary and hidden life. He was subject to His parents, Mary and Joseph, and to the authority of the State. He was a wage-earner, a toiler. He knew lack of sleep, and fatigue. He knew successes and reverses. He had to exercise great patience. He knew physical and moral torture. He was a Man of the most delicate sensibilities; yet, because He loved God and His fellow-men, He persevered in spite of rebuffs and rebukes.

He was a man with pure intentions, admirable fervour, limitless generosity, firm determination and constancy. His charity exceeded the charity of all the rest of the world. His thoughtfulness in taking the initiative, in doing things for us and for our welfare, even before we knew they had to be done, is unparalleled.

3. Catholic leaders, then, must follow Christ if they would be perfect. We must ask ourselves whether our motives are pure, whether our intentions are honest and direct, and whether our method of working has been like Christ’s. We must strive to do as He did, do as He would do if He were working with us, visibly, on earth today. We need Christ’s characteristics if we are to succeed in His work.

We must pray for guidance, then, for courage and for perseverance. We must give ourselves to Him and let His magnetism draw us to Him that we may know Him more perfectly and intimately.

CHRIST THE KING

In considering the Kingship of Christ we recognize the fact that Christ was a King. He came from the royal household of David. His human nature was descended from that long line of noble men and women who were the forebears of Mary and Joseph.

Catholic leaders may take courage from meditating on some of the virtues shown by Christ, the King, the Ruler, the Leader, the Man.

1. The purpose of a ruler is to balance liberty with law and order. Christ gave to everyone a liberty that was real; it was a matter of permitting people a free choice. Christ preached the law of God, the Father, and gave to all men a set of definite precepts by which they should be guided in that law. He accepted the Ten Commandments of God and interpreted them. His Sermon on the Mount defined definitively what men should do for the general and special good of mankind.

In the human order men cannot be expected to fulfil laws if they are ignorant of them. That all might know the laws in order to follow them. Christ promulgated them widely. He preached to the multitudes. But He did more; He left behind Him a teaching body that everyone throughout all ages might know the law.

But Christ did not force the acceptance of these rules. He allowed men to choose freely. He had given them a noble freedom of the will and permitted them the nobility to exercise their choice. Even in the case of Judas, when Christ’s Sacred Heart must have bled for one who had turned against Him and His Father. He left him the liberty to choose whether he would be loyal or traitorous.

2. Christ’s Kingdom is of the spiritual order. This was not because He did not know or because He overlooked human nature and the handicaps thereof. He took into account all of the foibles and jealousies and selfishness of man; yet He constantly preached and prayed and acted spiritually. He offered the Kingdom of His Father to all who would take up their cross and follow Him. He showed the misery that would result from those who dealt in the things of the material order alone, those who are the children of Mammon. The beatitudes. which are Christ’s promise of a sure and eternal reward, are all of the spiritual order.

Above all else, Christ prayed His prayer and taught His Apostles how to pray: “Our Father, Who art in heaven. . . . Your Kingdom come . . . on earth as it is as it in heaven.” The Apostles then and now are commissioned to bring, with God’s help, that Kingdom to earth.

3. Christ’s platform was based on love. Never did Christ preach, act, or recommend hatred. Constantly He showed the love of His Father and gave us repeated examples of Christian charity. He showed love of His neighbour, of His enemies, of those who loved Him and of those who despised Him. Even on the Cross, when He was being crucified for man, He prayed to the heavenly Father for those who were putting Him to death. “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.” It was on the Cross, too, that He forgave Dismas and promised him paradise. Dismas admitted his crime, accepted his punishment, and showed sorrow. Christ forgave him.

4. Christ’s Kingdom is for all. In this world, disparate as it is, Christ offered His Kingdom to the rich and the poor, to the healthy and the sick, to the just and the unjust. He gave His message to individuals and He gave it to the multitudes. He told His Apostles how precious was one human soul. He grieved over the loss of one person and, through homely parable, reminded us of the shepherd who would seek one lost sheep. Constantly He was that Shepherd ready to seek and bring home one of His lost flock.

Through His lowliness, His mildness, His obedience, as well as through His wisdom, His majesty and His beauty, Christ appealed to all men. He left Food for His subjects, the Living Water and the Bread of Life, that all might be saved to His Father. He showed no partiality, no injustice. While firm always, He was gentle. Was He not willing to sit without the gates of Jerusalem weeping and hoping that He might gather the people to His Kingdom, even as a hen would her chicks ?

5. Christ founded His Kingdom on the virtue of obedience. He came down into the world in obedience to His Father. He lived His life according to the Will of God. He preached not His own law, but the law of His Father. He constantly enjoined deep, internal obedience, a willing submission of the individual will to a Higher Will. He acted, and left for our emulation, the most perfect acquiescence of His freedom when He said, “Not My Will, but Yours, be done.”

Christ was obedient to the civic laws. He showed how they contributed to right order. But the greater obedience was always that heroic obedience of the mind and heart and will to God.

Christ was obedient even unto death. Knowing that the law would persecute Him for it, He answered Pilate (when he asked, “Are You a King, then?”) with: “You said it. I am a King. For this was I born, for this came I into the world, that I should give witness to the truth.” Truly this was heroic obedience!

6. Catholic leaders then, imitating the Personality of Christ, take to themselves the model of Christ the King. the Ruler, the Leader. To be given power in His cause is a glorious thing. If we would be good leaders we must be as like to Him as we can be in order that we can serve Him best. We give glory to Him and to His realm in order that Christ will reign in our hearts; then we can give Christ to the world.

CHRIST THE PRIEST

With the rebirth of the liturgical movement in the Church almost synchronously with the call to the laity for participation in the apostolate of the Hierarchy, Catholic, leaders have become more conscious of their copriesthood (the priesthood of the Faithful).

While Our Blessed Lord had three great offices to fulfil while on earth, that of a Prophet or Teacher, that of the High Priest of the New Dispensation, and that of King, Catholic leaders, whether priests or co-priests, give consideration to the personality of the Priesthood of Christ if they would imitate Him in their leadership.

A priest is one whose chief function is that of worship.

This worship takes the unique form of sacrifice.

Christ, the Priest, gave perfect worship. He gave complete sacrifice.

While the literal meaning of “priests” comes from the word meaning “elder,” the liturgical expression of bridge-builder (pontifices) is one recognized by all students and familiar to Catholic leaders who are trying to live the life of the Church fully and completely.

1. The Priesthood of Christ was necessary after the fall of man. In order to re-instate man in the supernatural order after Adam had deliberately fallen from grace in the Garden of Eden, it was necessary for One to offer perfect homage of obedience to God the Father. It was necessary for a Mediator (Bridge-builder) to show His complete dependence upon the Creator, God, the One Who had been infinitely offended by Adam’s turning from Him.

2. Since God was the One offended, it was impossible for anyone but a perfect being to bridge the chasm between sinful man and a sinless God. Yet the person also had to be a man, and like to every other man in all things save sin. Hence it, was the God-Man, Christ. Who had to repair the original refusal of worship of our first parents by becoming the Mediator, the Bridge-builder, the Priest. It was He Who had to sacrifice His all.

3. Yet, though He was God-Man. Christ’s preparation for the sacrifice, which had to be complete, was one of prayer, mortification, humility, and obedience. He established a norm of perfection because He knew how deeply God had been offended. and He wished to offer to the Creator a perfectly pure oblation or sacrifice—His own most perfect Being.

4. Christ, mercifully thoughtful, extended His Priesthood. As our Elder Brother, Head of the Mystical Body, Christ established a priesthood for the sanctification of the world for all times. At the Last Supper He declared the perpetuation of the Sacrifice by telling His twelve apostolic priests to continue with the offering of His Body and Blood, the only true Sacrifice for the redemption of mankind for all eternity.

5. Almost beyond all else, the Priesthood of Christ designates hope. As all sacrifices are made with the hope that good will be produced, so Christ’s Sacrifice was made with the hope that God would accept the redemptive act. That He did so was evidenced in the resurrection of Christ from the dead, when He who “was delivered up for our offences . . . rose again for our justification.”

6. To us, then, as priests and co-priests, in imitation of the Priesthood of Christ several things are made clear:

(a) Catholic leaders, co-priests with ordained priests and with Christ, offer God the worship and sacrifice that is due to Him in as Christ-like a way as possible. They understand and appreciate the fundamental worship of our Catholic Faith, the Sacrifice of Calvary and of the Last Supper, renewed daily in the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass and in the Sacrament of the Eucharist. As co-priests they participate in the Sacrifice, Christ’s Sacrifice. Through His generosity Catholic leaders, as members of the Mystical Body of Christ, may co-operate in redeeming mankind.

(b) Yet Catholic leaders are not asked to sacrifice their will as Christ so completely had to sacrifice His in Gethsemane, nor as He had to offer His precious Body and Blood on the first Holy Thursday and on Calvary; they do, however, give their will and their minds and their bodies to the service of Christ and for the furtherance of His teaching and for the sanctification of souls. In all that they do, they must, as true followers of Christ, render homage to God, their Creator. They must obey His commands. They must use their intellects and their hearts for His greater glory and for the purpose of helping others to know and to love Him.

(c) In preparation for their priesthood which is begun at baptism in a passive way, and in confirmation in an active way when they become soldiers of Christ, Catholic leaders try to be examples of Christ’s virtues “that meditating on Your law, day and night, they may believe what they read, teach what they believe and practise what they teach. . . . They show forth in themselves justice, constancy, mercy, fortitude and all other virtues.” They become poor in spirit. They exercise great zeal for souls. They practise charity, devotedness, patience, humility and meekness. They must truly aim at perfection, for theirs is the great privilege of serving Christ and with Christ, and he was all-perfect.

(d) That the sacrifice be made possible and lasting, Catholic leaders must give their service with a great abundance of love. They aim at a close and intimate union with Our Divine Lord and meanwhile practise selfabnegation. Each must try to deserve the name “alter Christus” and, as CHRIST-ians, all must declare to the world that they are of His group, that they are each an “alter Christus.” (another Christ). The hope that was given to all men through the Priesthood of Christ can and must sustain Catholic leaders, and while aiming at this most intimate association with Christ they may have perfect confidence that Almighty God will permit them to participate in the redemption of all men in the sanctification of souls.

7. With humility, then, as well as with hope, Catholic leaders remember always the function of their co-priestly work and build their own interior lives to conform with the spiritual perfection of the First Priest. As one great spiritual writer has said, they must never forget the God of good works in their promotion of the good works of God. It is this spiritual life that will refuel the zeal which is imperative to the co-priesthood.

CHRIST AND AUTHORITY

All leaders must at some time, and usually many times, exercise authority. As Catholic leaders they must respect definite authority, too. Therefore, a clear concept of authority and the attitude of the great Leader Christ towards it, is of important moment to those who are striving to imitate the Personality of Christ.

If there was ever a man who did not need to respect authority that Man was Christ Who, though Man, was God. He could have thrown over all man-made laws. Being God, He was not bound by the law which He had Himself imposed upon man. Yet Christ did recognize the authority:

1. OF GOD: When the devil took Him up into a high mountain, showed Him all the kingdoms of the world and the glory of them he said to Christ: “All these will I give You if falling down You will adore me.” Christ answered Satan “Begone, Satan, for it is written, the Lord your God shall you adore and Him only shall you serve.” Christ recognized the power which belongs to God alone to command the universe and made others aware of it.

That Christ further recognized the authority which God has over man is proved when He said, “Not My Will but Yours be done.” His whole life was given over to a service of His Father in a conscious recognition of the right which God holds to demand that service. “All things are delivered to me by My Father.”

2. OF THE COMMANDMENTS: “Do not think I am come to destroy the law or the prophets,” said Christ in the Sermon on the Mount. “I am not come to destroy but to fulfil. For Amen I say unto you, till heaven and earth pass, one jot, or one tittle shall not pass the law till all be fulfilled. He therefore that shall break one of these Commandments and shall so teach men shall be called the least in the kingdom of heaven. But he that shall do and teach, he shall be called great in the kingdom of heaven.” Christ recognized the teachings of God to Moses in the old law and further urged His followers to fulfil that law.

3. OF THE CHURCH: To insure the power of the Church He said: “All power is given to Me in heaven and in earth . . . and behold I am with you all days even to the consummation of the world.” It was an authority given for all times and Christ promised that He would remain with it. Further, when establishing the Church, He said: “You are Peter, and upon this Rock I will build My Church, and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it.” No power, therefore, could supersede that of the Church. Its authority is all-powerful next to God.

4. OF PARENTS: Christ spoke reprovingly to the scribes: “For God said: ‘Honour your father and your mother. And he that shall curse father or mother, let him die the death.’” In carrying out the practice Himself we know that He went down to Nazareth and was subject to His parents. Only once did He leave them and then it was to do His Father’s business.

5. OF CIVIC AUTHORITY: Christ, with His parents, regularly registered and paid taxes that were decreed by civic law. We recall, too, that on His way to Capharnum with Peter they were stopped to pay the toll, the didrachma. Christ ordered Peter to do so in order that they would not scandalize those who were collecting, even though Christ was the Son of the Father of the Universe. At another time, when asked about tribute to Caesar, He answered by saying, “Render therefore to Caesar the things that are Caesar’s, and to God the things that are God’s.”

6. Catholic leaders find an encouraging example in Christ’s attitude towards authority and in His practising the laws that come within the scope of divine and human authority. Like Christ they recognize the supreme authority of God. Because the authorship is certain they observe the Commandments of God and of the Church.

Catholics recognize the authority of parents and imitate the filial devotion of Christ as well as giving obedience to the Commandments of God. They pay respect to the authority of the State because Christ has decreed that a State, because of its essential functions, has power to effect certain good for mankind.

In all things Catholic leaders remember that Christ taught His Apostles: “The disciple is not above the master, nor the servant above his lord.” Following Christ’s example, leaders may enjoy the security, then, that comes with recognition of those who have been placed in position of power and pay them the respect that their positions demand. As leaders observe the commands and direction of the rules of their societies, of their directors, of their pastors and of their bishops, they may appreciate that that authority is rightful and is productive of right order. So, too, Catholic leaders recognize the authority of their civic officers, city, State and Federal, and they will respect those who have been elected to places of official capacity; they will also benefit by their guidance and direction.

Exemplary as they grow in following Christ in this respect. then, leaders will be more responsible guardians of rules and laws and will use their own authority with rightful purpose.

CHRIST AND CHARITY

Every Catholic leader is called upon to practise the virtue of charity; yet their human nature is often severely taxed. Serious reflection on Christ’s charity and the constancy with which He practised it in His own personality will create a greater desire for increasing the virtue in imitation of Christ.

1. Ideas of charity are often confused. Too frequently they are limited to notions of alms-giving. An understanding of the full meaning of charity is helpful to every Catholic leader. Charity is a supernatural virtue that causes us to love God above all things for His own sake and to love our neighbour for God’s sake. To exercise charity or to love perfectly, one must have a knowledge of the object loved. If we are to love God perfectly, we must know Him. If we are to exercise charity towards our neighbour we must know him, know and appreciate that he is one of God’s children and that he is a member of the Mystical Body of Christ.

2. The elements of love or of charity can be classified into four notions:

(a) One must feel sympathy for another not necessarily because “we are exactly alike,” but rather because we may “complete” each other, because a harmony exists between and among persons. In common parlance we say that there is a dove-tailing or a fitting-in of each other’s virtues and attributes.

(b) One must wish to share and be willing to share a communion of heart and mind. There must be a desire for union and the willingness to effect that union.

(c) One must feel an impulse of the soul to draw close to another in order that there may be mutual enjoyment in the presence of each other.

(d) One must experience a sense of joy, of pleasure and of happiness in the possession of the love of another.

3. Christ knew what charity is, understood its full implications, and He exercised the virtue. He loved God above all things. His love was a selfless love. His only desire was to do what God wished. He united His mind to God by frequent thought of Him and by prayer to Him; repeatedly, we learn from the Gospels, Christ sought quietude in which to speak to His heavenly Father. Thomas a Kempis says, “In silence and in solitude the devout soul makes progress.” Certainly Christ lost no human opportunity for making progress in the development of His “human soul” because He continuously gave His reverent esteem and thought to God.

Christ also gave the full submission of His will to God. “Not My Will, but Yours be done,” is historic evidence of this. Loving the Father of heaven and of earth, above all things, even above self, He surrendered the faculty of His Will to God the Father.

The Man-Christ loved other human beings. Some He loved very particularly and dearly, as John, Mary and Martha, and His own beloved mother. Yet He was willing to and did subordinate all His human affections to the Divine Love of His Father.

During His whole life Christ dedicated all of His energies, His strength and His talents to the service of souls. He spent His time on earth doing good to souls by tirelessly helping others to a greater and more intensive knowledge of God.

4. Christ gave us and continues to give us love or charity. The numerous examples of Christ’s charity to the poor, the weak, the crippled, and sinners are familiar to all intelligent people. Furthermore, Christ left us the Sacraments of the Church and the means of acquiring sanctifying grace through a Church that is infallible and cannot be wrong. He gave us the cleansing Sacrament of Baptism, showing His love by making us members of His True Church. He gave us the Sacrament of Penance whereby He perpetuated in a systematized way His forgiveness of the wayward children of God. But His great sacrament of love is the Sacrament of the Eucharist. In that He left us His own precious Body that we might live more closely in union with Him and that we might give Him to the rest of the world. He permits us to feel the effects of that love through added strength and courage and patience. “To be with Jesus is a sweet paradise,” truly.

5. Catholic leaders in their desire to be Christlike ask themselves how they can practise charity. It is assumed that they are striving for personal sanctification. Yet, to love perfectly is a grace given immediately only to a few; perfect love must be sought for and worked for. One of the first and most important steps is to overcome personal faults. We must unite ourselves with the God of love and imitate Christ as He loved God.

CHRIST AND HIS FATHER

Christ’s relationship to His Father is worthy of special study. The two great interests of His life were to do the Will of God and to save souls. Recurrently in Holy Scripture we find references to His perpetual and everconstant love of and desire to strive for the glory of God the Father. It is well for Catholic leaders to know how He felt and what their Model Personality did.

1. As a boy of twelve Christ was lost to His parents. The Gospel story is familiar to everyone. When found by His mother and foster-father, we recall, Christ answered: “How is it that you sought Me? Did you not know that I must be about My Father’s business?” We know that the Boy-Christ had consecrated His play, His work and His studies to God; but that was not enough.

He knew that the doctors in the temple, sincere of purpose and struggling for truth, needed enlightenment. So He went to them, boy though He was and very youthful in the eyes of the venerable doctors of the law. He began His Father’s business by teaching the truths of His Father, that all might know Him.

2. Of the rest of the hidden life of Jesus little is known from the Scriptures. Of His relationship to His Father during that time, however, much could be conjectured by recalling that after John had baptized Christ, God Himself was heard to declare. “This is my beloved Son in Whom I am well pleased.” His had been no open display of leadership. Had it been, the early writers would have trumpeted aloud His deeds during this period of His life. No, it was a hidden homage and service. But His Father was “well pleased” with His Son.

3. Christ knew that the world could not know God if He led only a hidden life. He entered upon His public life and encouraged others to do so. He told His followers: “So let your light shine before men that they may see your good works and glorify your Father Who is in heaven.” Again. He said, “In this is My Father glorified that you bring forth very much fruit, and become My disciple.” It was an authorized direction, a close following of the Son, that He urged upon the disciples. To assure them that it was the work of God, He said: “If I do not the works of My Father, believe the works: That you may know and believe that the Father is in Me and I am in the Father.”

4. Christ showed His utter dependency upon God the Father in the prayer He left to the world from the Mount: “Our Father . . . Who art in heaven, hallowed be Your Name, Your kingdom come, Your will be done on earth as it is in heaven . . . Give us this day our daily bread . . . And forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us . . . And lead us not into temptation but deliver us from evil.” In praying for Himself, in supplication to God, He showed us how to pray. It was “Our” Father, not “My” Father. He prayed for the glory of our Father on earth and in heaven. That was of first importance. He taught us how to ask for the material things of the earth, to ask even for our daily bread. He pleaded for forgiveness and intimated the necessity for us to forgive our trespassers. He taught us to ask to be delivered from temptation, not just sin, but from the temptation to do anything that is wrong.

5. Submission to the Will of God and the desire to accomplish the Will of God is all important. To quote from a few instances in Christ’s Life: In Gethsemane, three times He prayed, “My Father, if it be possible, let this chalice pass from Me. Nevertheless, not as I will, but as You will.” “For whosoever shall do the Will of My Father, that is in heaven, he is My brother, My sister, and mother.” With that relationship came the promise of family loyalty, of regard for those who are members of Christ’s family. To them He further promised: “Not every one . . . shall enter into the kingdom of heaven, but he that does the Will of My Father who is in heaven, he shall enter into the kingdom of heaven.”

6. To those who are trying to follow Christ and to carry on His apostolate great consolation and strength and courage are given in Christ’s own words: “And I will ask the Father and He shall give you another Paraclete, that He may abide with you forever.”

He also said, “ . . . And whatsoever you shall ask of the Father in My Name, He may give it you.”

7. Catholic leaders may sometimes find it difficult to remember the greater honour and glory of God. Dwelling on the innumerable examples left to us by Christ in which He showed us so specifically what His own attitude was and what ours should be, we surely may persevere until the great day dawns when we hear Him say, “Come, all you blessed of My Father, possess you the kingdom prepared for you.”

CHRIST AND HIS MOTHER

Christ was the Son of God. His human mother was Mary. It is not our purpose to give proof here of this accepted doctrine. Suffice it to recall but a few comments: “Is not this the carpenter’s Son ? Is not His mother called Mary ?” “Behold a Virgin shall conceive, and bear a Son, and His name shall be called Emmanuel.” (Isa. 7; 14.) “When His Mother Mary was espoused to Joseph, before they came together, she was found with Child of the Holy Ghost.” (Matt. 1; 18.) That Christ was truly born of Mary, and that His Father was God has been given credence from the world for two thousand years.

1. At the birth of the Infant we know that Mary “wrapped Him in a manger.” (Luke 2; 6.) The Baby was given the care, the love, and the attention that is given to human sons, with the added affection and sweetness that encompassed His Blessed Mother’s heart. From then on, continuing through His boyhood days, the relationship between Mary and her Son must have been a most intimate one. That Christ learned His religion as other Jewish boys did from their mothers, is inevitable. That He learned a graciousness of manner, of courtesy, of manliness, and of obedience, is also undoubtedly true. This Son for Whom there was no room at the inn, was happily welcomed into the bosom of the Holy Family. Their very poverty helped to keep them close, in the human way of things.

2. That the Holy Family was poor is without doubt. “I am poor and in labours from My youth; and being exalted have been humbled and troubled.” (Ps. 87; 16.) Christ voluntarily accepted the poverty of earth with the exalted poverty of work. Under His foster-father He learned His trade; He knew the importance of dignified labour and was prepared to meet the economic exigencies of the day. That He supported His widowed mother, after the death of St. Joseph, is an accepted belief. That He cherished this filial duty towards His mother is apparent. For thirty years He gave of His dutiful and loving personality to the mother who gladly and obediently followed the dictates of God the Father.

3. The realization that He must cause grief to His mother must have added unbearable weight to the already heavy burden which Christ carried to Calvary. Yet, though He passed her on the way to His execution, and the sorrow of that meeting of mother and Son is sufficient to tear the heart strings of any human being, one of His chief thoughts on the Cross was for His mother. “When Jesus therefore had seen His mother and the disciple standing whom He loved, He says to His mother: ‘Woman, behold your son.’” Christ had to leave His mother. He was doing the work for which God sent Him on earth; He was giving His life that we might have life eternal. But such was not the case with His sweet mother. She had borne Him, nurtured Him, taught Him, loved Him, and now He, the object of her love, was to leave her. Yet he did not leave without trying to assuage her loss. He would entrust her to the care of His most loving and gentlest disciple, John. He would even ask her to consider John as her son from now on that she might give of the fulness of her heart to this new son.

And then Christ turned to John and “He says to the disciple, ‘Behold your mother.’ And from that hour the disciple took her to his own.” Every child, with love in his heart, desires that everyone else know his mother. Every man who cherishes that tender affection for his mother wants his whole world to meet and know and share his mother. He even rejoices when that mother embraces his friends within her generous affection. The example of Christ as personified when He told John that from henceforth onward Mary was to be his mother in a special way readily accounts for this devotion. From His agony on the Cross Christ spoke of the depth of this love for His mother, His pride in her, His joy in wanting to share her affections. He called the attention of John and of all sons and daughters of this world to His mother. So great was His love for her and so fathomless her beauty and motherliness that He had to share her with us. He was about to die, to retire from the real stage which is life. But He gave to the world His most priceless human possession, His mother.

4. Catholics can never forget that Mary is their mother. Deep as their devotion for their human mothers may be, and Christ certainly gave plenteous example of such a devotion, Catholic leaders cannot forget even momentarily that Mary was given to us by God Himself to be the mother of our big Brother, and that Christ Himself gave Mary to us as the Mother of all humanity when He said to John, “Behold your mother.”

True to Christian family spirit, then, it behoves Catholic leaders to deepen their faith in Mary and to look to her for guidance and direction. We must call upon her very frequently with the realization that our heavenly mother in her expansive love will surely lead her loyal children to a love of the Triune God. Surely this is what her Son wishes us to do; it is what our Catholic faith dictates so lovingly.

THE YOUTHFUL CHRIST

“The Call to Youth” has become a shibboleth of the modern youth. Everyone seems to be calling youth for this, that, or the other thing. Some also recognize the call OF youth, and it is of gripping interest to Catholic leaders that they should heed primarily the yearning needs of young people.

Leaders of youth have a strategic responsibility imposed upon them. Catholic leaders realize that the spiritual implications of such leadership are momentous because they must help to mould, develop and inspire the spiritual yearning and cravings of a God-given and God-redeemed soul.

A serious consideration of the Youthful Christ is important for one in a position of responsibility. Christ must become the Model for other youth; His youthful spirit should pervade the interests of Catholic leaders of youth.

1. One of the abiding convictions concerning the Personality of Christ is that He was undoubtedly a CHEERFUL Youth. Little is recorded, it is true, about the early years of the Boy; yet much can be surmised from the historical facts that are recounted in the Gospel.

The Holy Family, as other Jewish families, happily joined in the celebration of the Passover. It was a joyous occasion for all who participated and the long trip to Jerusalem was filled with gaiety. Christ’s anticipations of the festivities were undoubtedly those of a young boy, healthy and full of life, travelling along the road with companionable friends, playing games along the way, enjoying the beauties of the countryside as they travelled.

Christ was not a Boy Scout, but Christ knew nature and was observant of its beauties; the birds, the trees and the flowers all appealed to Him. Imagine His spontaneous joy as the birds sang their songs from the tree-tops or played hide-and-seek among the brambles. With what quick appreciation He viewed the lilies of the field lifting their beautiful faces to the sun; the large herds of sheep must have fascinated this Boy as He watched the tender care given them by their watchful shepherds; the occasional fishermen patiently and quietly waiting for their catch drew Him to them as they threw their lines hopefully; and the mustard trees, the vineyards and fig trees all caught His eye and fancy. Christ was in intimate union with God, His Father, and was cheered by the creations of God and the care which He showered upon the glories of nature. As He later shared these things with His followers during His public life, using the things of nature to clarify His teachings, so too in His youthful and cheerful simplicity did He share the joys of His Father with His companions ,along the road to Jerusalem.

2. Christ, the Youth, was industrious:

(a) From His boyhood days, Christ studied the Jewish law. As was the case with other children of His race, He learned most from His parents, particularly from His intelligent and learned mother. The Old Testament, the Jewish Law, contained the most important text, books of the era. These contained religious teachings, philosophical truths, and scientific observations. How industrious Christ had been in applying Himself to study of His books was shown when He was twelve years of age. The doctors in the temple, all older men, could not confound the Boy with any of their questions. They were amazed by the facts that He recounted to them from His retentive memory. He had worked hard and well at His studies.

(b) Christ was also industrious in performing manual work. While still a boy He worked in His foster-father’s little shop. Through necessity, He learned this manual art which meant sustenance to the Holy Family. The things that He made were the customary furnishings for a home, His own home and the homes of His neighbours. The planing of wood and the piecing of heavy blocks demanded planning, attention, strength, perseverance, and patience. His work by hand was not less demanding of His energies and industry than His intellectual learning. And He did both well.

3. Christ was devoted to His family. For thirty years of His life He remained in their home. He was happy there. He worked with His parents, learning from them and helping them. He prepared for His future work under their guidance and tutelage. He enjoyed the sociability of His family and of their friends. Their interests in civic things were His interests and He learned early the value of registering, of paying taxes, and of respecting civic authority. He appreciated all that his extended family did for Him and in return He gave them of His affection, His time, His consideration, and His filial obedience. Thirty years may seem an eternity to many young people, but it was a happy, crowded period’ for Christ.

4. These three characteristics in the personality of the Youthful Christ are only three of many. To Catholic leaders of youth. however, they are sure and definite guides. The cheerful and the observant leader; the leader attuned to the beauties of nature and detached from the discordant perversions of life; the leader who is sympathetic with God’s plan of the universe; that’s the leader for this age; the personality of that leader will help to lead others to God. The leader who is industrious, both mentally and manually, will accomplish necessary work for his group. He will also arouse a willingness to work in others; he will be capable of showing them how to work.

Next in importance to personal purity and sincerity, the leader who has a true appreciation of family life and who is grateful to his family and devoted to them will be the example of true Christian youth. It will not be amiss for all Catholic leaders to entrench in their own minds a true image of the Youthful Christ and to revive in their personalities the spirit of youth which is ever Christian.

CHRIST AND HIS HUMANITY

It is sometimes difficult for casual thinkers to distinguish between the humanity and the divinity of Christ. For that reason too many well-meaning and sincere Catholics are discouraged from attempting to imitate Christ. They know they cannot imitate the divinity of Christ; they cannot be God. Therefore, in their confusion, they hesitate to imitate Christ, the Man.

That Christ was divine is not the object of this theme. His resurrection from the dead is the greatest proof of that, and well-known to those who have eyes to see and ears to hear. They can read and study the proofs fully elsewhere. Our concern, at this point in our reflections of Christ’s personality, is with Christ’s humanity. While His whole life displayed His human nature, His passion in a special way offered the world the human side of Christ. The divinity of the God-man could not be extinguished; it was His human nature that suffered violence.

Catholic leaders suffer; there is little doubt of that. They meet with reverses and with hardships, with physical pain and mental torment. Through our meditations on the human nature of Christ and particularly of His suffering, we can see Christ in His most intensively human aspect.

1. Christ suffered the loss of His friends. One of the twelve chosen Apostles, Judas, proved a traitor and sold Jesus to the executioners for thirty pieces of silver. Peter, the stalwart, three times denied his friendship with Christ. Others, whom He had helped and cured and aided and fed, turned from Him and feared to stand by Him when the law called for His life. Imagine the heartaches of that Man Who had given of His love unstintingly, when some of His closest, most cherished, and most confidential friends deserted Him.

2. Christ suffered in making others suffer. He knew that He had to thrust a sword through His mother’s tender heart, and that she would undergo deepest grief not only over the loss of her Son, but because of the violent, physical manner of His death. He knew that His beloved friends, Mary of Bethany and her sister and brother, Martha and Lazarus, and John, were loyal friends who would give their lives rather than see Him suffer; yet He had to cause them that suffering. The human heart of Christ must have been wrenched at the knowledge that He would cause so much sorrow to those who loved Him.

3. Christ suffered physical agony. A heavy crown of sharp-pointed thorns was plaited upon His Head until the blood streamed down His Face. He was cruelly beaten with a scourging that tore His flesh. He was loaded down with a mammoth cross that tore and strained His muscles and sinews and taxed the strength of a heart that was already crushed. His Hands and Feet were ripped with the spikes that were driven into them to hold Him on the Cross. And they soaked His bleeding mouth and lips with bitter vinegar.

4. Christ suffered humiliation, too. He was dragged before a civil court and condemned by a pagan world because He was pure and good and righteous. He was publicly beaten and spat upon by the rabble. He was stripped of His clothing publicly and exposed to the gawking stares and ribald sneers of a blood-thirsty mob. He was treated, throughout the trial and execution, as a fool and was crucified with criminal thieves.

5. Christ suffered loneliness. To be alone with God, in peace and security, is a beautiful accomplishment. But to be alone. and to feel that friends and God have deserted one, is truly to suffer loneliness. Christ’s cry from the prophetic Psalm 22(21), “My God, My God, why have You forsaken Me ?” stirs us to the depth of our souls. The man who was Christ knew loneliness of the most acute type. That His friends had failed Him; that He seemingly had to fail His friends; that He was tortured physically and suffered humiliations; all of these facts were agonizing. But the height and depth of His passion was reached when He seemed to feel that even God, His Father, had deserted Him.

6. We have seen before that it was necessary for a man to act as mediator between God and men. Christ was that Man; that He suffered in His work as Mediator there can be no doubt as we review and relive the passion. Christ taught us how to suffer. No matter what may be the utter aloneness of Catholic leaders, and very often the greater the leader the more lonely one can be, Christ in His human suffering can be their model. Like Christ, though their hearts are bleeding and their bodies sore distressed, though their very spirit is stifled even unto the point of calling, “My God, My God, why have You forsaken Me ?” they can keep the crucified Man before their eyes. They can continue to do the work of Our Father until they, too, may say, “It is consummated.”

CHRIST OUR FRIEND

Everyone knows that Christ came down to earth because of His love for us. Whenever our thoughts turn to the Sacred Heart we are filled with wonderment and appreciation because the Lord-God left His heavenly Father and the choirs of attending angels to come down on earth to redeem us. Meditation on this one single thought is so awful and overpowering that thinking persons can never doubt, much less deny, Christ’s deep and abiding love and friendship.

All Catholic leaders logically must strive for sanctity. They know that holiness, as St. Thomas has said, “does not consist in knowing much, in meditating much, in thinking much. The great secret of sanctity lies in loving much.” A fuller realization of Christ’s love for us should and will enkindle our hearts with a deeper and more insatiable desire to be friends with Christ in return, to love Him completely.

1. During His earthly life Christ loved all people. In particular instances, He showed His special friendship to a few. The Gospels speak of Mary of Bethany and Martha and Lazarus, of Mary Magdalene and of John, of Peter and James. Christ loved children; He also loved the lepers. Through His companionship, He gave constant example to the whole world of His abiding love for men and of His wish to share His joys and sorrows with His friends. He even addressed Judas, who was about to betray Him, as “friend.” He tried to remind Judas of His love for him, hoping to deter him from the dastardly trick with which he would betray Christ. And on the Cross Christ responded immediately to the friendly recognition of Dismas, the Good Thief, by promising him eternal Paradise.

2. From the time of His infancy until He hung on the Cross, Christ’s arms were almost continuously extended, showing us in a human way how much He wanted to enfold us in His love. As a mere Babe His arms were held open pleading for our love. On the Cross His arms were nailed wide apart; His loving us and His intense yearning for our love made Him give His life that we might live. The sins of man held Him fast so that, seemingly with ironic symbolism. He could not encircle His loved ones. But His Heart was so full of love that it overflowed; the very lance that pierced His sacred side permitted blood from His Sacred Heart to be shed upon us. Nothing, not even death, could quell His love.

3. Christ’s friendship was constant and immutable. Though He fulfilled His earthly mission as Man and then ascended to His Father, He left us His most precious Body and Blood in the Eucharist. He so loves the world and he so empties himself in ‘kenosis’ that in the tabernacle He remains silent, patient, and a “prisoner” of His own love. He never changes. He is there always. When we call Him forth, He comes joyously into our hearts. When we ignore Him, He just waits for us as a trusting and confident Friend. He, God, could force our love and our friendship, but this He does not do. As on earth He suffered abuse, ignominy, insult, calumny and contempt, so in the tabernacle He suffers “aloneness,” insult, contempt and coldness. But whether we be a Mary Magdalene or a Dismas, a Judas or a Peter, whether child or adult, healthy or leprous, Christ remains in the world to satisfy our need for companionship and intimate association.

4. Christ shows His friendship everywhere, at any time. Whether we are walking or riding, in city streets or subways, in automobiles or in the theatre, on the hillside or the ocean, a whispered word, a breathed prayed, will always bring Christ to us. Hardly a wish is felt before Christ, in friendship, is fulfilling it for us. How numerous are the times that we call on Him; how numerous are the times that He answers us. He is so anxious for our love and He loves us so much that there is nothing He will not do if what we ask is for the honour of God and our soul’s good. Spiritual favours are showered by Him in abundance; trust in Him will bring our material needs. Confidence in Him will give us strength and courage to do the right thing and to overcome temptations.

He gives us friends here on earth that we may share our love with them. Yet, when people turn from us and scorn us, when they calumniate or scandalize us, Christ remains faithful wherever we are. No wonder the gross world sometimes fails to understand such great love and friendship, for surely He seems to love without reason; He loves almost to the point of folly.

5. Christ is our friend in joy and sorrow. When we are in need, when we have lost dear friends, when hardships and disasters overtake us, we need only to turn to Christ, even though we may have formerly turned against Him. When joys come to us Christ is ready to share them with us. At the birth of an infant in a family Christ is ready, through His Church, to offer the cleansing waters of Baptism. When we have bought a new home, Christ, through His priests, will permit a special blessing on the home. Whether at ordination or profession, at marriage, or at Confirmation, Christ, our friend, is present. Christ is not jealous of our happiness; He will share it and intensify it. Nor is Christ cold and cruel when we are in agony or in sorrow. He will come, as the one true friend, to ease the hurt and calm the irritation.

6. As Catholic leaders we grow more and more alert to the friendship which Christ has given us. We grow in appreciation of His love for us. We give our hearts and minds to the consuming fire of His love. We can let our hearts beat more quickly, more wildly, if we will, because of our love for Him. We can never love Him too much.

In imitation of His personality we love His other brothers and sisters, those whom He loves as we continue with our Catholic leadership. Because of our love for Him we purify our human friendships and make them steadfast and constant.

Christ, our Leader and Lord, youthful and loving, loyal Son of God and devoted Son of Mary, we pray You to hold us fast as Your friends that with You we may extend the Kingdom of the Father.

Amen!

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CONSECRATION OF THE HUMAN RACE TO THE SACRED HEART OF JESUS OFFICIAL TRANSLATION OF THE ACT

Most Sweet Jesus, Redeemer of the Human Race, look down upon us humbly prostrate before Thy altar. We are Thine, and Thine we wish to be; but, to be more surely united with Thee, behold each one of us freely consecrates himself today to Thy most Sacred Heart. Many, indeed, have never known Thee; many, too, despising Thy precepts, have rejected Thee. Have mercy on them all, most merciful Jesus, and draw them to Thy Sacred Heart. Be Thou King, 0 Lord, not only of the faithful who have never forsaken Thee, but also of the prodigal children who have abandoned Thee; grant that they may quickly return to their Father’s house lest they die of wretchedness and hunger. Be Thou King of those who are deceived by erroneous opinions, or whom discord keeps aloof, and call them back to the harbour of truth and unity of faith, so that soon there may be but one flock and one Shepherd. Be Thou King of all those who are still involved in the darkness of idolatry or of Islamism, and refuse not to draw them all into the light and kingdom of God. Turn Thine eyes of mercy toward the children of that race once Thy chosen people. Of old they called down upon themselves the Blood of the Saviour; may it now descend upon them a layer of redemption and of life. Grant; 0 Lord, to Thy Church assurance of freedom and immunity from harm; give peace and order to all nations, and make the earth resound from pole to pole with one cry: Praise to the Divine Heart that wrought our salvation; to It be glory and honour for ever. Amen.

Christ The King

(2ND EDITION-REVISED.)

INDEX

THE Encyclical of our Holy Father, Pius XI., on the Institution of the Feast of Christ Our King is a fitting crown to the devotion and the vast spiritual awakening which marked the Holy Year, 1925.

In fulfilment of the commission of Our Lord to St. Peter, and aided by the light and grace that are given to every man according to his need, the Vicar of Christ addresses words of timely guidance and help to the Catholic world. We need that guidance today. In their greed for wealth, the senseless hurry of business, and the rush for pleasure men forget, then reject, Divine things. Our superficial education, the shallow science and the sensationalism of the newspapers bewilder men’s minds. They cannot think steadily and soundly; they are “tossed about by every wind of doctrine.” They lose Christ—not from rebellion, but from indifference.

Man-made religions and scientific theories come and go like the leaves from spring to winter, and as they pass they leave men more and more confused. Outside the Catholic Church there is no centre of spiritual authority, no institution that can claim to possess that body of truths which was the legacy of Christ to His Apostles, to be guarded by them for men through all time. There is no other infallible teacher.

Man’s life must be reasonable, founded on true philosophy. For very many of those who do not recognise the Divine claims of Christ there is a philosophy of life-but it is a destructive philosophy. Its authority is unstable and uncertain, that of a learning which imposes itself on the less learned. It changes as new theories are born, but always leaves greater uncertainty, as it saps the foundations of faith and drives men to religious indifference or to scepticism.

Truth is put farther and farther away. Religion, then, and philosophy for such men come to be no more than a collection of words, of hazy definitions, of vague counsels of morality, with no firm foundation. Consequently, the law of sacrifice and the Christian moral code, so clearly stated in the teaching of Our Lord, are rejected, and men accept gladly those theories of conduct only which demand no moral effort and impose no burden of sacrifice. The God of the new philosophies is not real: He is not personal; He does not command. Christ for them is not the Divine Christ, who knew Himself to be God, who loved men, and lived and taught in Galilee with an authority which He claimed as Divine; who confirmed the Divine law and made laws as His own; whose praise and blame are for eternity; whose Kingdom we must enter by the way which He has appointed, through faith, baptism, sacrifice and good works.

The Pope, then, calls back the world to Christ Our Lord. In Him alone can man find light and peace. Christ is a Divine Fact. He made a demand on the free will of men, and no proof of a claim to authority was so clear as His. Men are free to accept or reject Him, but if they reject Him the loss is theirs-the law is inexorable. As the death of the body is a fact to which men must submit, and all the thought and all the science of men cannot stop its approach, so Christ is a fact. He must reign. He is the touchstone of the world. If men trust Him, He will be their friend; if they resist Him, they must be broken.

THE REIGN OF CHRIST

Already, at the beginning of his pontificate, in his Encyclical on “The Peace of Christ in the Reign of Christ,” the Holy Father had drawn attention to the evils which are distracting the world: the mutual distrust of nations, the growth of armaments, internal dissensions, the class struggle, the disturbance of social peace by strikes and lock-outs, the growing spirit of avarice, selfishness, and the desire of pleasure. Home life is attacked in its very foundations, paternal authority denied, conjugal faith broken. Added to all these is the loss in so many of the very idea of the supernatural

Peace in this troubled state is not impossible, but it can come only when men return to Christ and obey His teaching. For Christ must reign. He must reign in the mind of man by faith, in his heart by charity, in his life by the observance of His law and the following of His example. He must reign in the family by the inviolability of the marriage bond, by the submission and the charity that are a figure of the obedience and the love of the Holy Family at Nazareth. He must reign in society by the public recognition of the moral jaw as His, by the full acceptance of the true principle of authority through which men admit that all power is from Him. Christ must be restored to the family, brought into the schools and into public life, and His Church must be given that place in the life of the world which belongs to the infallible centre of His teaching and the instrument of His sacramental graces.

CHRIST, RULER OF THE NATIONS

In the same spirit the Holy Father now insists that Christ Our Lord must rule over every creature, every nation, and every condition of social life. He makes the social significance of Christ more clear when he says that Christ, as Master of men, in His own unique way, has true authority over them; that the dignity and power of Christ are real and living, not as a mere example, not only through His grace. Thus He can command the obedience, devotion, and loyal service of everyone in order to hasten His coming into the fullness of His Kingdom.

In the international life of peoples, where now so often the Divine law is not recognised and the moral order finds no sanction, the influence of Christ is above all needed to bring back the reign of supernatural justice and charity. The nations want peace and try to find it in the “expedients of diplomacy. Leagues for peace will succeed only when men accept the true principles of peace, which are in the teaching of Christ, and when the nations recognise the Pope, who is the teacher of morality for so many millions of their subjects.

IN CHRIST THE HOPE OF SOCIAL PEACE

In the industrial world, if only the peace of Christ were there, union and good understanding would make for more efficient production with general contentment. This has been the experience of the old Catholic days, and, later, of our own times under the Harmels at Val Des Bois, and other Catholic employers in France and elsewhere. In the great spinning mills directed by the Harmel family since 1840 welfare associations were established long before the idea was considered practicable in England. An elaborate system of guilds, helped always by the employers and directed by committees of workers, dealt with matters of wages, insurance, shop regulations, banking, vocational training, the purchase of goods for the workpeople, and other concerns of those occupied in the -factories. Comfortable homes were built, and the whole social life was cared for. The result was a remarkable spirit of harmony and freedom from industrial troubles. Even now what is regarded as the most promising suggestion for the solution of the wage problem, the cursalaire-a system of family allowances-has come from some Catholic employers in France, whose Christian enterprise has developed into a widespread and very successful movement.

If a truly Christian spirit animated the industrial world we should have little occasion to dread the extortions of soulless corporations and the extravagances of vast world-speculation any more than the enormities of Communism, for they are but the fruit of the rejection of truth, and the introduction of false principles where religion had lost its hold on men.

In the days before the Reformation these evils were not so marked, although the root of the evils has always existed. However divided men were in race, in interests and in work, then “they were one in a common Christianity, acknowledging one Lord and His Vicar on earth. Then spiritual influences entered men’s lives more readily, and the spirit of the Gospel could be infused into their actions. Whatever the “faults of the individual, the business and social life of the nations got its inspiration from Christ Our Lord. But now, for the moment, the world has grown weary of Him and tries to free itself from His control. Even in modern religions we see trusted teachers arrogating to themselves an authority that is not theirs, and rejecting His teaching in favour of an easy morality and a service without sacrifice; while they will not, or cannot, point out the only way to peace, which is in the supernatural Kingdom of Christ.

CHRIST RULER OF STATES

The Pope demands the public recognition of Christ Our Lord by the State, for, as He said, all power has been given to Him in Heaven and on earth. That means that He must be explicitly recognised in the public functions of the national life. Hence, in countries where the great majority of the people are professing Catholics, it is rightly expected that the nation show its faith by external acts of national worship, when rulers and people co-operate with the Church in the public religious ceremonial which the seasons and the circumstances of the time require. Where Catholics do not form the majority, they can reasonably ask of their rulers a recognition of the Church, and a positive support in her public service of God and the teaching of morality. At least something more can be asked of Christian men than a mere refusal to prevent legitimate worship. When it is rightly proposed, the public profession of faith in Divine things is in full harmony with the nature of man and can be a rock of offence to no one. Moreover, every honest man knows that true religion is the best ally of the State and should be encouraged, rather than thwarted, by those who rule.

Herein is a special duty incumbent on Catholics -to proclaim to the world the sovereignty of Christ and His law. There is no virtue in concealment, and the spirit of “peace at any price,” which Catholics sometimes bring into public life, is only an unmanly abandonment of true principle, or contemptible apathy, while it is always disloyalty to Our Lord. The enemies of religion and of God could ask nothing better than that Catholics should become apologetic for their existence.

THE HERESY OF SECULARISM

The Holy Father draws our attention to what he calls the spiritual pest of our times-laicism or secularism. In 1864 Pius IX., with the spirit of the watchful pastor of souls, in his famous Syllabus, summed up the sources of these modern errors, and time has proved the accuracy of his vision and justified his action, then so bitterly attacked. In the modern States in which secularism has established itself religion has become, at best, only a matter for the private life of the individual, to be tolerated and to be regulated by secular authority. State law must prevail over Divine law. The claim of the Church to be the sole teacher of the moral law is not admitted. The sacramental nature of marriage is disregarded and the right of parents to control the education of their children rejected. Pernicious doctrines affecting the freedom and the natural rights of the weak are supported. The Church of God is no more than one of the many social groups of the State, to be controlled and regulated as they, oftentimes with far greater viciousness because of her very dignity.

The secular State arrogates to itself absolute power over its subjects, and necessarily finds itself in an impossible position-for it claims the right to set the standards of truth and morality without a mission-and it has no one on whom it can call for help. It cannot decide with justice the conflicting claims which must arise in the varied life of society- claims which often are spiritual in their origin or their relations. It professes to be neutral in matters of religion; but such neutrality does not exist, nor can it exist as men are made. Indeed, the principle of neutrality was declared by M. Viviani-one of the French secularist leaders most prominent in recent years-to be no more than diplomatic lying and practical hypocrisy. The secularist State necessarily becomes the worst of despotisms.

The secularist ideal, besides being unjust, is unreasonable and inconsistent. God exists, and He has claims on man which He enforces; the service of God is above that of any State. Moreover, the freedom which secularism claims for man, and on which it professes to base its opposition to religion, is an absurdity. Man’s freedom of action is lessened by every added fact, his freedom of thought by every scientific and philosophical discovery. It is only the ignorant man who is free to deny what has been proved to evidence. There is a body of truth outside of man’s existence, both in the temporal and in the spiritual order, which necessarily restricts his action. An external authority goes with every form of organised life, spiritual, intellectual, moral and temporal, from which man cannot withdraw and be still true to himself. It is-to use Our Lord’s words-the truth that shall make men free. Ni Dieu ni maître-no God or master-is only the ranting of wild men; fashion, opinion, passion, disease, death-these are men’s masters. Man is truly freest when he serves God and all the world for the love of God. Even Catholics are sometimes infected with the plague of secularism; they cannot understand the Non possumus of the Apostle when they lose their loyalty to their Divine Master.

The State which aims at being its own master and guide in the region of morality is attempting the impossible: the freak legislation of some States on the one hand, and the odious tyranny of Mexico or Russia on the other, are sufficient proof of the irresponsibility of legislators. The moral law is God’s law, and God imposes it on men. No man can make a code of morality for himself any more than he can, in the short span of life, win all knowledge for himself. There must be a teacher who can be trusted and who can command, but that teacher is not the State. The failure of the State as a teacher of morality is seen in the moral anarchy that shows itself where true religion is rejected and selfconstituted guides preach the legitimacy of divorce, birth-control, and other doctrines destructive of religious and social life, and where the State itself can give no standard of moral worth which men will accept.

It is quite illogical to complain of the want of respect for law and authority, disregard for oaths, the violence of industrial disputes, the selfishness of employers or workmen, when God is rejected and the only real sanctions of the moral law are spurned, when religion is refused to the young, and those safeguards which men can find only in the supernatural cast away.

Religion -the religion that Christ Our Lord established-is the only permanent safeguard of morality through its Divine appeal and its sanctions, for God has made it so. Even now, apart from the active influence of practical believers in Christ, the only bond of Western civilisation is its original Christian element, which preserves for society a remnant at least of a code of moral honour founded on the Divine law.

The truth is that, without Christ, human life is one of expedients and makeshifts, having no real binding principle, and, therefore, necessarily making a constant appeal to some form of selfishness which at the very best may help to avert, for the moment only, some urgent evil.

THE NEED FOR THE CHURCH

It is evident that nothing but a Church strong in its Divine commission to teach with authority, with its control of life-giving Sacraments, can preserve a true national life, preventing degeneration and decay. Catholicism is like the sap of society; when it is vigorous it gives life to the whole body of the State, making men interest themselves unselfishly in both God and their fellow men. On the other hand, the secularist ideal degrades man by depriving him of the higher life of the soul and its aspirations towards the true perfection of humanity which religion supposes or secures. The secularist has not disproved religion by calling it superstition; the history of all that is best in the world at present and in the ages past is his enduring refutation. The so-called freedom of thought, which is the origin of secularism, is a dogma without support, unreasonable and inhuman. It solves no difficulty, explains no truth; it lives on phrases-liberty, brotherhood, science, tolerance, and the like-of which it can supply neither explanation nor justification.

WHAT THINK YOU OF CHRIST?

Thus the Encyclical is a challenge to men to put to themselves Our Lord’s own question, “What think you of Christ?” When they realise that the only hope of true peace in their social, as in their individual, life is in Him who said, “My peace I leave you; My peace I give you,” then Christ will reign over men, then liberty and authority will be respected, man’s dignity will be recognised, and the wild doctrines of reformers without a mission checked. Respect for law becomes easy when law is known to be the will of God; but law cannot be respected when even the legislator knows no motive higher than force. If society will not serve Christ as its Master, nothing remains but the service of self, and that is slavery, with anarchy as its natural outcome.

THE FEAST OF CHRIST THE KING

In his insistence upon these fundamental truths the Holy Father has not desired to offer us any new idea or to suggest any new method. He only puts before us a summary, effective in its opportuneness, of the age-long teaching of the Church. But he enforces his teaching by the authoritative institution of a new liturgical feast in honour of Christ the King of Men as a powerful means of impressing the truth on the minds of all. This is the chief purpose of the Encyclical, for, as he points out, even the noblest teaching will lose its force when it is not accompanied with some recurring commemoration. This action of the Pope has a special significance. Feasts are not thrust upon the Church. Individuals may choose their devotions according to their spiritual attraction, but a devotion accepted by the Church with the solemnity of a public celebration must have a higher justification: her liturgy must protect and promote universal truth, according to the doctrine expressed in the formula, lex credendi lex orandi-devotion is an expression of doctrine.

Hence the introduction into the liturgy of the feast of a saint or the commemoration of a doctrinal fact is no haphazard thing; it is an expression of the unerring devotion of the Church, and it is surrounded with the solemnity which befits the dignity of the external worship of God and of the service of the heart in faith. This is the explanation of the splendour of ritual associated with the canonisation of saints and the commemorations which occur in the cycle of the liturgical year. Consequently, Catholics have a public duty to co-operate with the Church in the worship of God by surrounding her ceremonial with a splendour which will show at once their faith in God and their idea of the reverence due to Him. Thus they will give glory to God and draw others to a knowledge of Him and a desire .to worship Him which otherwise would not exist. Catholics-particularly Australian Catholics-have much to learn of the character and importance of liturgical worship as an expression of doctrine, an honour given to God, and the satisfaction of a true demand of the soul.

THE FEAST OF CHRIST THE KING

The doctrine which the feast commemorates is not new. The royal dignity of Christ-God and Man-arises out of His very nature. The human nature was drawn, in the ineffable ways of the Divine power, into association with the Divinity Itself in what is known as the Hypostatic Union. Through that association the new Being, Christ Jesus, possessed the essence of God-for He was God-and, with that, all that God is. Because of the Hypostatic Union the humanity of Our Lord shared, by communication, in the knowledge, the power, and the other gifts which it was capable of receiving. Hence He could rightly claim an equality with the Father in all, as when He said: “All things are Thine, and Thine are Mine” (John 17, 10); and, again, “I and the Father are one” (John 10, 30), and, “He who sees Me sees the Father also” (John 14, 9).

GROWTH OF THE NEW DEVOTION

The promotion of the Social Reign of Christ is one of the main objects of the Apostleship of Prayer, expressed in its motto Thy Kingdom Come. So Our Holy Father, in his Brief granting the associates a plenary indulgence on the feast of Christ the King, says of the Apostleship: “Since its very beginning in 1844 without interruption it has had as its special purpose to promote by every means in its power the advent of the Social Reign of Our Lord in the hearts of men of all nations.” This was the master idea in all the spiritual activities of Fr. Ramiêre, who was for many years its Director. As far back as 1870 he published a work on Liberalism and the Doctrines of the Church, in which he set himself to establish the theological basis of this doctrine, and he realised it so well that the headings of the chapters of his book read like a summary of the Encyclical of Pius XI. He associated this Kingship particularly with the devotion to the Sacred Heart, for, indeed, it is a kingship of love-the reign in human hearts of Christ, who loves men. He saw, too, in it a devotion peculiarly adapted to an age marked by the spirit of industrial trouble and social unrest. Fr. Ramière worked much for the formal consecration of the Church to the Sacred Heart, which took place in 1875, and he was entrusted by Pius IX with the duty of preparing the act and publishing the Pontifical decision.

The devotion to Christ Our King was specially developed at the Eucharistic Congresses, the first of which was held at Lille in 1881. Successive Congresses carried on the work of study and publication, and with that grew a demand for a special feast. The Congress of Lourdes in 1914 chose as the theme of its considerations “The Social Reign of Our Lord through the Blessed Sacrament,” and one result was an appeal to the Holy Father by the Bishops who were present for the establishment of the feast. Already in 1889 Cardinal Sarto, afterwards to become Pope Pius X., Cardinal Ferrari, so remarkable for his zeal and charity when Archbishop of Milan, with nearly a hundred other Bishops and Cardinals of Italy and South America, had appealed to the Holy See for the liturgical recognition of the doctrine. Leo XIII. welcomed the appeal and referred the question to the Congregation of Rites.

In 1920, when minds could turn away from the calamities of war, a new organisation, La Sociéte du Regne Social de Jesus Christ, was founded by M. Georges de Noaillat at Paray-le-Monial. With him, giving all her energies to the work, was his wife, a lady of high attainments, the leader of the Catholic Women’s Movement in France, noted for the brilliance and charm of her oratory, of which she gave proof in numbers of lectures through the country for the great cause to which she had devoted herself. The interest now became world-wide. Petitions came to the Pope from nearly every country. The theology and liturgy of the question were discussed from every side. Some thought that a special feast should be assigned; others that a feast already established, like that of the Sacred Heart or the Epiphany-the manifestation of Our Lord to the Nations-should be given a special direction for the recognition of the Divine Kingship.

The crown of all this work of devotion came with the Encyclical Quas Primas on December 11, 1925, and the first celebration by the Pope himself of the feast with its Mass in St. Peter’s on the last day of the year.

Now the devotion is authoritatively established, and it is set firmly in the hearts of Catholics all the world over. Of this, one of the most striking proofs is that, through the long agony of the Church in Mexico, the battle-cry and the salutation of Catholics-which for many splendid men and women has been the immediate cause of glorious martyrdom at the hands of the enemies of Christ-is Viva Cristo Rey!

In the Encyclical, “Annum Sacrum,” in which Pope Leo XIII. declared the Jubilee of the Holy Year 1900, he ordered the consecration of the whole of mankind to the Sacred Heart, an act which he said was the greatest of his pontificate. To the performance of this act of love and worship he declared more than once that he had been urged by a saintly religious of the Congregation of the Good Shepherd, Sister Mary of the Divine Heart, known in the world as Countess Droste zu Vischering, who appealed to him in a touching letter to pay this act of supreme honour to Our Divine Lord. The holy Sister, after a life of great suffering and remarkable devotion, died at the first vespers of the triduum preparatory to the universal consecration-as if her life’s work had been completed when this honour to the Divine Master was assured.

Explaining the nature of the consecration, the Holy Father says: “By devoting ourselves to Our Lord we not only openly and gladly recognise His authority, but also by our act we show that, even if our life were truly ours to give, we would give it to Him most readily. As in the symbol of the Sacred Heart we have a sign of the infinite love of Christ which moves us to love Him in return, so it is quite in harmony with that love that we should consecrate ourselves altogether to His Divine Heart. That means no more and no less than that we give ourselves to Our Lord and bind ourselves to love and honour Him. For this reason we urge all those who know and love Him to devote themselves with all good will; and it is our most earnest wish that, by their common action on the day on which the world is consecrated to the Sacred Heart, the prayers of so many thousands, expressing the same devotion, should reach the temple of their Father in Heaven together.

“The consecration to the Sacred Heart gives us confidence also in an improvement in the conditions of public life, since it must restore, or make closer, the union which should naturally exist between the State and God. In our times there is, as it were, a wall set up between the Church and the State. In the constitution and the direction of States the authority of the Divine law is despised, because of the prevailing idea that religion should have no bearing on public life. Hence the Christian faith is rejected, and, as far as possible, God is driven from the earth. If minds are so elated with arrogance, we need not wonder at all the troubles among the nations, when no one can be free from danger or without fear of evil. The soundest bases of public safety must fail when religion is despised, whilst God will hand traitors over as victims to their own desires, to serve their passions and destroy themselves with too much liberty. Their only help and security is in Christ, for there is no other name under the heavens given to men by which we can be saved (2 Acts 4, 2). They must have recourse to Him who is the Way, the Truth, and the Life. They have gone astray; they must return to the right path. Their minds are darkened; they must clear away the darkness with the light of truth. Death has seized upon them; they must grasp the true life. Then, at last, all wounds shall be healed, then justice shall be strong again in its pristine power, then the glory of peace shall be restored and the sword drop from the hand of man, when all gladly accept the rule of Christ and submit to Him, and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is in the glory of God the Father (Phil. 2, 11).

CONSECRATION OF COUNTRIES

In Ireland, on Passion Sunday, 1873, in response to a united pastoral of the Bishops, the whole Irish people, meeting in the various parishes, consecrated themselves to the Sacred Heart, first as a nation and then by dioceses. The people were moved to this act of devotion-which was both an expression and a guarantee of their faith-by the persecution of the Church in Germany during the Kulturkampf. Also in 1873 that remarkable man, Garcia Moreno, President of Ecuador, consecrated his State and solemnised the consecration by legal enactment. San Salvador followed this good example in 1874, and then Venezuela, Nicaragua, and Colombia. In 1917 the Countess of Luxemburg dedicated herself and her people to the Sacred Heart, and in 1919 King Alfonso devoted Spain with magnificent ceremonies. In 1920 Poland followed, and in 1921 Costa Rica, while Brazil and Malta were consecrated in 1922. The formal consecration of Catholic Australia was made by order of the Bishops in 1919, but there had been partial consecrations of dioceses or States much earlier.

Besides the consecration of nations, many public acts of recognition of the authority of Christ Our Lord were solemnised by the Bishops and people of various countries. In France the splendid Church of the National Vow was dedicated to the Sacred Heart at Montmartre; in Belgium the national basilica at Koekelberg, near Brussels, was consecrated by Cardinal Mercier in presence of the King and Queen and a great assemblage, and at the same time Belgium dedicated itself to the Sacred Heart. In Uruguay a great votive temple was begun in 1919. As, in 1904, the remarkable statue of Christ of the Andes was set up in the mountains on the dividing line between Chile and Argentina, to be a memorial of the ratification of an enduring peace, a similar statue was erected recently on the Hill of St. Thomas, in Paraguay. A like act of devotion is being offered in the city of San Sebastian, near Rio Janeiro. In Mexico, in spite of violent opposition from the atheist Government, over a hundred and fifty thousand people met at Cubilete-a name then changed to The Hill of Christ the King-to proclaim His royal rights in reparation for the sacrileges and the other acts of impiety committed by His enemies during these years.

CONSECRATION OF THE HOME

The consecration of homes goes farther back into history than the consecration of States. Since the days of St. Margaret Mary the new spirit infused into the devotion of the people, and the promise of Our Lord in favour of those who honoured His Sacred Heart in the home, led to the formal consecration of the home itself. The consecration of families is being actively promoted over the whole world by the Apostleship of Prayer, with remarkable proofs of devotion. This act is, in the words of Pope Benedict XV., “more opportune in our times than ever before, when men are trying to destroy in private as well as in public life the moral code of the Church. Impious men are attacking the home in particular, for it has in it the source of society; they hope to ruin the State by corrupting the family. We have, then, a definite duty-it is not a matter merely of walking in the train of Christ with the vague sentimentalism of tender hearts.” A religion that is identified with mere sentiment, and is not the vigorous expression of a truth, is defective at least, if it is not wrong. It cannot lead us to do good works and avoid evil, as Christ requires of us when He tells us to take up our cross. The fruit of consecration is devotion, and the fruit of true devotion to the Sacred Heart is sacrifice and zeal and love-”tepid souls shall become fervent.”

THE CATHOLIC APOSTOLATE

Some Catholics will say that this revolution wished for by the Pope is a dream, for the selfishness of the world cannot be overcome. That is the heresy of distrust, the disbelief in the power of Christ to touch the souls of men. If they only looked deeper they would see that the world is looking for the peace of Christ. It knows its weakness, its deceptions, its vice, and it is waiting for another St. Francis, with his detachment, for another St. Paul with his fiery zeal, to give it back the spirit of Christ. The Encyclical is the condemnation of the disloyal and the spiritless Catholic, as it is of the atheistic secularist.

If men who hate Christ try to cast Him out of the home, those who love Him will keep Him there. So they must know His Divine teaching on the supernatural life, on respect for His Church, on the Divine source of all authority, on the inviolability of marriage, on the priceless worth of a human soul-those things that, St. Paul says, pass the understanding of the sensual man.

They must bring that knowledge, too, into the lives of men, and be apostles of Christ by example and precept in the crowded cities of our new civilisation. There men’s souls are neglected; men are hungering for good, but they are not shown where its true source lies. True Catholics must fight secularism, that is driving the world into indifference for Christ or paganism, by the influence of a genuinely good and holy life and an apostolic zeal for the Reign of Christ. This is a true apostolate of the modern layman to the world-the apostolate of example, and the wider apostolate of service in the cause of a real King, who admits men to His court more readily and more intimately than any, even the least, of the world’s potentates.

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ENCYCLICAL OF OUR HOLY FATHER PIUS XI. TO THE HIERARCHY OF THE CATHOLIC CHURCH ON THE ESTABLISHMENT OF THE FEAST OF JESUS CHRIST OUR LORD AND KING

Venerable Brethren,—In the first letter which We addressed to the Bishops of the whole Church We dwelt upon the causes of the difficulties with which mankind is struggling. Then We said that these various evils had come into the world because so many men had in their private lives rejected Jesus Christ and His holy law, and thrust Him out of the life of the family and of the State. We said, further, that there was no clear hope of lasting peace among the nations as long as individuals and States rejected the rule of Our Divine Saviour. Therefore, We urged the world to seek the peace of Christ in the reign of Christ, and promised that We Ourselves would do so as far as it is in Our power. Peace in the reign of Christ We said, because, clearly, peace cannot be more effectually restored and confirmed than through the establishment of the rule of Our Lord. Since that time We have been urged to hope for a brighter future through a new, and much keener, interest shown by the world in Christ and His Church, the one instrument of salvation. In this We saw a proof that men, who before had spurned the authority of their Redeemer and exiled themselves from His Kingdom, were now happily preparing their return to their duty of obedience.

PREPARATION FOR THE NEW FEAST

Many notable and memorable events which have occurred during the course of the year have added much to the honour and glory of the Divine Founder of the Church, our Lord and King. Men have been deeply impressed by the public exhibition of the missionary life of the Church. They have seen there how consistently the Church is working to spread in every land, even to the most distant islands of the ocean, more widely every day the Kingdom of her Spouse. They have seen how many countries have been won to the Catholic Faith by the labours and the sacrifices of brave and invincible missionaries. They have seen, as well, the vast regions which still remain to be made subject to the saving and kindly rule of Our King. Again, the chief aim of all those who, led by their Bishops and priests, flocked to Rome from all countries during the Holy Year was to purify their souls, and at the Tomb of the Apostles, in Our presence, to proclaim their loyalty to the rule of Christ.

A new splendour was shed upon Christ’s Kingdom wh en, after proof of their remarkable virtue, We raised to the honours of the altar six holy confessors and virgins. Great joy and consolation filled Our heart when, in the noble temple of St. Peter, immense multitudes acclaimed Our decrees with thanksgivingin the words of the “Te Deum,” “Thou, Christ, art King of Glory.” Our joy was great because, at a time when men and States are cut off from God and are driving to their ruin in hate and discord, the Church of God continues to offer the food of the spiritual life to all men, and nurtures for Christ generations of holy men and women, whom He is ever calling, as His most faithful and obedient subjects in His earthly kingdom, to the eternal happiness of His Kingdom in Heaven.

Again, as the sixteenth centenary of the Council of Nicaea occurred within the Jubilee Year, We ordered the event to be celebrated, and We commemorated it in the Vatican Basilica. This We did with all the greater pleasure as it was that Synod which defined as an article of Catholic faith that the Only-begotten Son is of one substance with the Father, and added to the Creed the words, “Of whose Kingdom there shall be no end,” thus affirming the royal dignity of Christ.

Since, therefore, this Holy Year has offered Us more than one opportunity to shed glory on the Kingdom of Christ, We consider it a duty in keeping with Apostolic office to accede to the prayers of many of the Cardinals, Bishops, and the faithful, expressed to Us both individually and collectively, by closing this Holy Year with the introduction into the sacred liturgy of a special feast in honour of Jesus Christ Our Lord and King. This matter is so dear to Our heart, Venerable Brethren, that We will address to you a few words concerning it. Afterwards it will be for you to explain to the faithful in a fitting manner what We say of the worship of Christ Our King, so that much good may attend the celebration of the feast which We shall decree.

Men have been for long accustomed to give to Christ the title of King because of the perfection through which He excels all creatures. Thus He is said to reign over the minds of men, not so much by the clearness of His intellect and the extent of His knowledge as because He is very Truth, and it is from Him that they must receive the truth with submission. He reigns, too, in the wills of men, because in Him the human will corresponds with perfect rectitude and submission to the Divine, and, further, by the movements and inspirations of His grace, He so supports our wills that we can be stirred to the very noblest efforts. Christ is King of the hearts of men as well because of His charity, which exceeds all knowledge (Eph. 3, 19), and of His mercy and goodness, which draw all men to Him, for no other has been, or ever shall be, loved by the world of men as Christ Jesus. When we consider the matter closely we see clearly that Christ Our Lord claims both the name and the power of King in the truest sense. It is only as man that He can be said to have received from the Father power and glory and kingship (Dan. 7, 14), since the Divine Word, who is of the same substance as the Father, has all in common with the Father, and therefore has supreme and absolute power over all creatures.

Throughout the Scriptures we read that Christ is King. He it is who shall come, a ruler, out of Jacob (Num. 24, 19), who has been set by the Father as King over Sion, His holy mountain, and who shall have the nations as His inheritance and the world to its farthest ends as His domain (Ps. 2). He is the true King of Israel to come, of whom, in the figure of a rich and powerful king, the nuptial canticle sings: “Thy throne, 0 God, is for ever and ever; the sceptre of Thy kingdom is a sceptre of righteousness” (Ps. 44). Passing over many similar passages, we come to another in which the Psalmist describes more clearly the form of Christ, and says that His Kingdom shall know no end and shall be enriched with the treasures of justice and peace: “In His day justice shall rise up and abundance of peace. He shall rule from sea to sea, and from the river to the ends of the earth” (Ps. 71).

We have the still more abundant testimony of the Pro phets. That of Isaias is well known: “For a child is born to us, and a son is given to us; the weight of empire is upon His shoulder, and His name shall be called Wonderful, Counsellor, God the Mighty One, Father of the world to come, the Prince of Peace. His empire shall be spread afar, and of its peace there shall be no end. He shall sit upon the throne of David and over His Kingdom, to establish it and strengthen it with judgment and justice from henceforth and for ever” (Isai. 9, 6, 7). The other Prophets speak in the same way. Jeremias tells us of the “just seed” that shall rise in the House of David, the Son of David who shall rule as king with great wisdom, and who shall establish justice upon the earth (Jer. 23, 5). Daniel speaks of a kingdom that shall be founded by the God of Heaven, which shall never be overthrown, but shall last for ever (Dan. 2, 44). Again, he says:

“I saw a vision of the night, and, lo! one like the Son of Man came in the clouds of heaven, and he came even to the Ancient of Days, and they presented him before Him. And He gave him power and glory and a kingdom; and all peoples and races and tongues shall serve him. His power is an everlasting power that shall not be taken away, and his rule shall never be destroyed” (Dan. 7, 13, 14). The holy Evangelists have recognised the fulfilment of the prophecy of Zachary, who tells of a gentle King, riding upon an ass, entering Jerusalem as the Just One and the Saviour amid the acclamations of the multitude (Zach. 9, 9).

The doctrine of the Kingship of Christ, thus declared in the Old Testament, finds a clear and glorious confirmation in the New. In the message of the Archangel Our Lady is told that she is to bear a Son, to whom “the Lord God shall give the seat of David His father; He shall reign in the House of Jacob for ever, and of His kingdom there shall be no end” (Luke 1, 32, 33). Christ Himself speaks of His Sovereignty in His last discourse to the people, when He told them of the rewards of the just and the punishments of the wicked; in His answer to the Roman governor, who had asked Him if He were a king; and after His Resurrection, when He gave to His Apostles the commission to teach and to baptize all, nations. When the occasion arose He claimed for Himself the name of King, and He publicly stated that He was a King (Matt. 25, 31, 40; John 18, 37); whilst He solemnly declared that all power was given to Him in heaven and on earth (Matt. 28, 18). These words can have no other meaning than that His power is mighty and His kingdom without end.

We need not wonder, then, that He, whom St. John calls Prince of the kings of the earth, should be He who in the vision of the future shown to the Apostle has on His garment written and on His thigh, King of kings and Lord of lords (Apoc. 19, 16), for the Father has appointed Christ heir of all (Heb. 1, 2), and He must reign until He has put all His enemies under the feet of God the Father (1 Cor. 15, 25).

In view of this teaching of the Holy Scriptures, the Catholic Church, which is the kingdom of Christ on earth, to be spread through all the nations of the world, must proclaim her Author and her Founder with every mark of veneration in the yearly cycle of her liturgy as King and Lord, the King of kings. This homage, telling the same truth in admirable variety of forms, offered in the ancient psalmody and sacramentaries, she still offers in her ritual of public prayer to the Divine Majesty, and in the Holy Sacrifice of the Immaculate Victim. In this perpetual praise of Christ Our King we find the harmony of Oriental liturgies with our own, verifying once more the maxim, “The rule of worship tells us the rule of faith.”

St. Cyril of Alexandria rightly declares the foundation of this power and dignity of Our Lord when He says that He has dominion over all creatures, not won by force, not received from another, but essentially His own through His Divine nature and substance (In Luc. 10). In other words, His Kingship is founded on the Hypostatic Union. Hence, not only is Christ as God adored by angels and men, but also to Him as man angels and men are subject, and they must recognise His power; because of the Hypostatic Union Christ has authority over all creatures.

For us, however, it is a happy and a consoling thought that Christ is our King, not only by His natural right as God, but also by right that He has won, for He has redeemed us. If only forgetful men would remember how much we owe to Our Divine Saviour! “You are not redeemed with corruptible gold and silver, but with the precious Blood of Christ, the Lamb unspotted and undefiled” (1 Peter 1, 18.X We are no longer our own, for Christ has bought us at a great price (1 Cor. 6, 20); our very bodies are members of Christ (1 Cor. 6, 15).

NATURE OF THE KINGSHIP OF CHRIST

We will now explain briefly the nature and the meaning of this Kingship of Christ. It consists, We need hardly say, in the threefold power which is essential to authority-the power to make laws, to judge, and to administer the law. His authority is very clear from the testimony which the Holy Scriptures give to the universal rule of our Redeemer. It is, besides, a doctrine of Catholic faith that Christ Jesus, given to men as a Redeemer in whom they should put their trust, is also a Lawgiver whom they should obey (Council Trent, Sess. 6, Can. 21). The Gospels show Him to us, not only as having made laws, but also as actually making them. The Divine Master Himself on many occasions, and in different circumstances, declared that men, by keeping His law, prove their love for Him, and shall be confirmed in His love (John 14, 15; 15, 10).

Jesus claimed to have received from His Father the power to judge men. When the Jews accused Him of violating the Sabbath rest by the miraculous healing of a sick man, He answered: “The Father does not judge any man, but He has given all judgment to the Son” (John 5, 22). In this power must be included the right to reward and to punish all living men, for this right is inseparable from judicial power.

Christ has also executive power, for all men are bound to obey His commands; nor can anyone escape His authority or the punishments which are the sanction of His laws for those who are obstinate in disobedience.

The authority of Christ as King is in a special sense spiritual and concerned with spiritual things. This fact is clear from the texts of the Holy Scriptures mentioned above, and it is confirmed by the actions of Our Lord Himself. More than once, when the Jews, and even the Apostles, wrongly thought that the Messias would restore the kingdom of Israel and free its people, He repelled the idea and destroyed their empty hopes. When the admiring multitude wished to proclaim Him their king He fled from them and hid Himself, to avoid both the title and the honour; and afterwards He declared to the Roman Governor that His kingdom was not of this world. The Gospels propose to us a kingdom such that those who would enter it must prepare themselves by penance, and that no one can enter it without faith and baptism-an external rite which both signifies and causes a new birth in the soul. This spiritual kingdom is the enemy of none but that of Satan and the powers of darkness. It requires of its subjects detachment of heart from riches and other earthly things, with the spirit of gentleness and hunger and thirst for justice, while all must bear their cross in self-denial. Since Christ won the souls of all men through His blood as Redeemer, and offered Himself, and is continually offering Himself, for the sins of men as Priest, it is quite evident that His kingly dignity is spiritual as these are.

While the authority of Our Lord is spiritual, it would be a grave mistake to say that Christ, as man, has no authority in civil matters, for He has received from God absolute power over all things created, and everything is subject to Him. Still, while He lived on earth, He abstained from the exercise of that power; and although He disdained to own material things or to care for them, He allowed those who had them to remain their owners, and He does so still. In this it is well said: He takes away no mortal crown who gives the crown of life eternal (Hymn for the Epiphany).

Thus the empire of Our Saviour embraces all men. Here We freely make Our own the words of Our predecessor, Leo XIII. of immortal memory: “His empire is not limited to Catholic nations, or to those only who, by their baptism, belong to the Church but have been led astray by error or separated by schism; it embraces also those who have no part in the Christian faith. The Kingdom of Christ is the whole world of man” (Enc. “Annum Sacrum,” 25th May, 1899).

In this there is no difference between the individual, the family, and the State, since men grouped in societies are no less subject to Christ than individuals. He is the salvation of all: “Neither is there salvation in any other, for there is no other name under heaven given to men whereby we must be saved” (Acts 4, 12). The same Christ is the Author of the happiness and true prosperity of both subjects and States:

“A nation is happy when the people are happy, for the nation is only the people living in harmony” (St. Augustine Ep. ad Macedonium).

If, therefore, rulers of States wish to promote and increase the prosperity of their people and to preserve their own authority, they must not refuse to show in themselves and by their people respect and obedience to the rule of Christ. What We wrote at the beginning of Our pontificate about the great decline in respect for government and the authority of the law is equally suited to the conditions of the present day: “When God and Jesus Christ are banished from public life, when authority is considered as derived from men, and not from God, the very foundations of authority are destroyed, because the main reason why some have the right to command and others the duty to obey has been rejected. Then society necessarily falls, since it has no solid support and protection” (Enc. “Ubi Arcano”).

THE SOCIAL BENEFITS OF THE RULE OF CHRIST

As soon as men recognise the authority of Christ in their public and private lives, very real blessings, as true liberty, discipline, peace and harmony, will infallibly spread through the whole of society, for this royal dignity of Our Lord will Invest the human authority of rulers with a religious character, and ennoble the duties and the obedience of subjects as well. So St. Paul, when ordering wives to honour Christ in their husbands and slaves to respect Him in their masters, warned them not to obey these as men but only because they are in the place of Christ. It is not fitting that men redeemed by Christ should be slaves of their fellowmen: “You are bought at a price; be not the bond-slaves of men” (1 Cor. 7, 23).

If those in authority were convinced that they were ruling by the command and in the place of their Divine King, and not in their own right, their wisdom in making laws and administering them and their regard for the general good and the human dignity of their subjects would be evident to all. Then peace and good order would flourish and persist, since every cause of discontent would have been removed. Even when subjects find in their rulers only men like themselves, and perhaps unworthy and deserving of blame, they will not for that reason resist their authority if they see in them the figure of Christ, God and Man, and His Divine command.

When we consider peace and harmony among men, we see that the wider an empire extends, and the greater the number of its subjects, the more fully are men aware of the bond which unites them, and this consciousness will either prevent many conflicts or lessen their bitterness. If, then, the rule of Christ extended over all men really as it does by right, we should not despair of seeing the realisation of that peace which the King of Peace came to bring on earth. He came to win all to the Father (Col. 1, 20), not to be served, but to serve; and, though He was Lord of all, He gave Himself an example of humility, which He made, together with charity, His chief commandment, and He added that His yoke is sweet and His burden light. Great indeed would be the happiness of men if only individuals and families and nations would allow themselves to be ruled by Christ. “Then, at last,” to use the words of Leo XIII., “shall all wounds be healed; then shall law recover its native vigour and its original authority, the blessings of peace be restored, and the sword fall from the hand of man, when all gladly submit to the rule of Christ, and every voice proclaims that the Lord Jesus Christ is in the glory of God the Father” (Enc. “Annum Sacrum”).

INSTITUTION OF THE FEAST OF CHRIST OUR KING

In order that these blessings may abound and endure in Christian society, the royal dignity of Our Saviour must be recognised and understood as widely as possible, and nothing can serve this purpose more effectually than the institution of a special feast in honour of the Kingship of Christ. If men are to be penetrated with the truths of faith, and, through them, brought to the happiness of the interior life, the annual celebration of the Sacred Mysteries is far more effective than even the most solemn declarations of ecclesiastical teaching, for these, as a rule, reach only a small number, who are also the best informed, whereas feasts move and teach all the faithful. The former speak but once, the latter every year and for all time. Teaching has its greatest influence on the mind, but the liturgy moves with salutary effect both body and soul; for man, composed of body and soul, is stirred by external solemnities to a fuller acceptance of the Divine teaching through the variety and beauty of the sacred rites. In this way doctrine becomes, as it were, part of man himself, and he can make use of it for the good of his spiritual life.

We know from history that sacred festivals have been introduced in the course of ages according as the spiritual needs or the advantage of Christianity demanded, when the people needed strength in the face of a common peril, or when they were to be protected against the errors of new heresies; or, again, when they were to be stirred to a closer consideration of a mystery of faith or some divine blessing. Thus, in the earliest ages of the Church, during the bitter persecutions of the Christians, the worship of the martyrs was instituted in order that, as St. Augustine says, “the feasts of the martyrs might incite men to martyrdom.” When, later, liturgical honours were paid to confessors, virgins, and other holy persons, they helped very much to stir up in the hearts of the faithful the zeal for virtue that is so necessary even in times of peace.

Still more effective were the feasts instituted in honour of Our Lady. Through these the Christian people honoured the Mother of God with greater devotion as their most helpful advocate, and loved her as a mother left to them in the last will of their Redeemer.

Not the least of the blessings which have came from this public honour rightly paid to the Mother of God and the saints is the fact that the Church has ever been preserved from the taint of error and heresy. In this We must admire the wisdom of the Providence of God, who, drawing good out of evil, has from time to time permitted the faith and piety of the Catholic people to grow lax, and false teaching to attack Catholic truth. But this has always been with the result that truth shines out with added brightness, and faith awakened strives after nobler and holier aims.

Not unlike the older feasts in their origin and their results are those solemnities which have been introduced into the annual course of the liturgy in more recent times. When reverence and devotion to the Most Holy Sacrament had diminished, the newly-instituted Feast of Corpus Christi, with all its ceremonial splendour and its devotions prolonged through the octave, recalled the people to the public worship of Our Lord. So, too, the Feast of the Sacred Heart was instituted when the hearts of men, distressed by the gloom and the severity of Jansenism, had grown cold, and Christians were shut out from the love of God and hope of their salvation.

A REMEDY AGAINST THE HERESY OF OUR DAY

It is Our duty now to minister to the needs of the present day and to provide an effective remedy against the plague which has corrupted modern society. That plague is secularism, with its errors and its impious activities, and to combat it We ordain the special worship of Christ Our King by the whole Catholic world. That pest, as you know, Venerable Brethren, has not grown up in one day, but it has been long nurtured in the heart of governments. The beginning was in the rejection of the rule of Christ over the public life of nations. Men denied the right of the Church, given by Christ Himself, to teach mankind, to make laws, to govern her own people in their religious life, to lead them to their eternal happiness. Then, little by little, the true religion came to be assimilated to false religions, and to be put on the same level with them; it was made subject to the civil power and given over to the whims of princes and rulers. Some went even further, and wished to substitute for the religion of Christ some form of natural religion, or mere sentiment. Some governments even thought that they could do without God, and made their religion consist in impiety and contempt for Him.

We deplored the bitter fruits of this revolt from Christ in men and States in Our Encyclical, “Ubi Arcano,” and still We deplore them. Everywhere the seeds of discord are sown, the fires of hatred and of fierce rivalry between nations are fanned, and the restoration of peace after the war has been long delayed. On all sides is cupidity unrestrained, concealing itself often under the mask of patriotism and the general good, with its accompaniment of discord amongst the people and a blind and boundless selfishness which looks for nothing but private advantage, and measures everything by personal gain. The bitter fruits of this heresy are seen, too, in the ruin of domestic peace, when men have forgotten or neglected -their duty in the home; the union and stability of the family are undermined-society, in a word, is shaken to its foundations and threatened with ruin.

But we have the strongest hope that the annual celebration of the Feast of Christ Our King will hasten the return of the world to its Divine Saviour; and it is the duty of every Catholic to hasten that return still more with his own active efforts. Many, it is true, have not that place in society, or that authority, which should belong to those who bear the torch of truth. This disadvantage of good souls is to be attributed, in some measure, to the timidity or the ignorance of men who will not stand up against evil, or who only weakly resist it. So the enemies of the Church necessarily become bolder in their rash attacks.

But if the faithful understood that it is their duty always to fight bravely under the royal banner of Christ, they would set alight in themselves the fire of apostles, A Catholic and strive to win back to their Master the Crusade, hearts of the ignorant and of those who are estranged from Him, and they would use every effort to maintain His rights inviolate.

Moreover, the universal celebration of this yearly solemnity will do much to make men realise, and in some way supply for, the revolt from Christ which secularism has brought about with results so disastrous to society. While national councils and parliaments, by their unworthy silence, insult the holy name of our Redeemer, we should all the more openly acclaim it, and more widely assert the rights of the royal dignity of Christ and His authority.

GROWTH OF THE WORSHIP OF CHRIST OUR KING

From the closing years of the nineteenth century we see the way providentially prepared for the institution of this feast. It is well known with what learning this devotion has been taught in works composed in different languages in so many countries of the world. Moreover, a more general recognition of the authority and the royal dignity of Our Lord has been won by the growth of the pious custom through which an immense number of families have been consecrated to the Sacred Heart. Not only have families thus dedicated themselves, but cities also and kingdoms; while in the year 1900 the whole world was, at the instance of Leo XIII., consecrated to the Divine Heart.

We must not overlook the impulse which the many Eucharistic Congresses have given to the solemn recognition of the authority of Christ over society, for the purpose of these assemblies of dioceses or nations is to venerate Christ Our King, hidden under the Eucharistic veils, and by addresses, by solemn Exposition of the Blessed Sacrament, by splendid ceremonial, to salute Christ, given us by God as Our King. So it can be said with truth that Christ’s people are by a divine impulse bringing Him out of the retirement and the sacred silence of His temples and carrying Him in triumph through the highways, thus restoring Him to His royal rights, when impious men will not receive Him as He comes to His own.

The Holy Year, now coming to a close, offers Us an excellent opportunity of fulfilling the plan of which We have spoken. God, in His great goodness, has during this year called the minds and hearts of men to the consideration of those supernatural blessings which are above all understanding. Some He has restored to His grace; others He has confirmed in the way of righteousness, with motives to strive for the higher gifts. Whether We consider the appeals made to Us in such numbers, or the events of the Holy Year itself, We have good reason for Our conviction that at last the day desired by all has come, on which We can solemnly declare that Christ is to be worshipped as King of all men with the solemnity of a special feast.

INSTITUTION OF THE FEAST

In this year, as We have already said, the Divine King, who is truly wonderful in His saints, has been gloriously magnified by the addition to His army of a new band of soldiers inscribed on the list of His saints. During this year, too, at Rome, men have been able, through an unaccustomed view of facts in the lives of missioners, and almost of their actual labours, to realise and to admire the victories won by the heralds of the Gospel in the spreading of His Kingdom; whilst in the centenary celebrations of the Council of Nicaea We commemorated the doctrine of faith that the Word Incarnate is consubstantial with the Father, which is the foundation of Christ’s authority over men.

Therefore, by Our Apostolic authority, We institute the Feast of Jesus Christ, Our Lord and King, and order it to be celebrated every year on the last Sunday in October, the Sunday immediately preceding the Solemnity of All the Saints. We further ordain that every year on that day there shall be a renewal of the consecration of the whole world to the Sacred Heart, as prescribed by Our predecessor of holy memory, Pius X. For this year only We desire that the feast be observed on the thirty-first of December, on which day We shall offer the Holy Sacrifice with full pontifical rites in honour of Christ Our King, and We shall order that the consecration of all mankind be made in Our presence. It seems to Us that We cannot close the Holy Year in a more fitting way, or give better testimony of Our gratitude, and that of all men, for the blessings bestowed during the year upon Us, the Church, and the whole Catholic world.

We need not explain to you, Venerable Brethren, at any length the reasons for decreeing a new feast, distinct from other feasts of Our Lord, in which His royal dignity is in some way represented and celebrated. We would remark only that, though the material object, as it is called, of every feast is Our Lord Himself, the formal object of this feast differs from that of other feasts by the representation of His authority and His title of King.

We have set aside a Sunday for the celebration in order that not only the clergy may offer their service of sacrifice and praise, but the laity also, freed from their customary occupations, may, in the spirit of holy joy, give fuller proof of their obedience to Christ Our Lord and their service of Him. The last Sunday of October seemed to be the most suitable for this purpose, as then the course of the liturgical year is nearing its end, and so the mysteries of the life of Our Lord which are celebrated throughout the year will be completed with the crowning glory of His royal authority; whilst before we celebrate the Feast of All the Saints we shall extol the praise of Him who triumphs in the glory of His elect.

It shall, then, be your duty, Venerable Brethren, to prepare for the annual celebration of the feast with instructions on fixed days in every parish, so that your people may be well informed in the nature, the meaning, and the importance of the feast, and order their lives in a manner worthy of those who offer faithful and honest service to their Divine King.

HOPES FOR THE FUTURE

As we close Our letter, Venerable Brethren, We would say in few words what advantages We promise Ourselves shall come from this public worship of Our Divine Lord and King to the Church, to society, and to all the faithful.

When We pay this honour to Our Divine King men will be reminded that the Church, which has been established as a perfect and independent society, by her natural and inalienable right demands from the State full liberty and immunity. She cannot depend upon the will of any other in the office divinely entrusted to her of teaching, ruling and guiding to their eternal happiness all who are of Christ’s Kingdom.

Moreover, the State must allow a similar liberty to the religious Orders and Associations, which are very efficient helpers of the pastors of the Church in their work for the promotion and establishment of the Kingdom of Christ. By their bond of the religious vows they fight against the triple concupiscence of the world, the flesh and the devil, and by the profession of the more, perfect life they secure that the holiness which the Divine Founder of the Church ordained as one of her marks shall shine before the world with ever-increasing brightness.

The public celebration of this feast, renewed every year, must remind statesmen that rulers as well as private individuals are bound to offer public worship and service to Christ Our Lord. It must recall to their minds the Last Judgment, when Christ Our Lord, now banished from the public life of the nations and contemptuously neglected and ignored, will punish severely all those insults. His royal dignity demands that the State shall be guided by the Commandments of God and by Christian principles in its legislation, its administration of justice, and its training of children in sound doctrine and morality.

The faithful, also, from meditation on these truths will gain much in spiritual strength and virtue to form their lives in harmony with the true spirit of Christ. If all power in heaven and on earth is given to Christ Our Lord; if men, redeemed by His blood, are made subject to Him by a new right; if His rule extends over all mankind, it will be clear to all that there is nothing which is not subject to His authority. Christ, then, must reign in the minds of men, in the sense that all with perfect submission must assent firmly and constantly to revealed truths and to all His teaching. He must reign in the wills of men by their obedience to the Divine commands. He must reign in the hearts of men who will love God above all without regard to natural desires. He must reign in our bodies and in all our members, which must serve as instruments, or, in the words of St. Paul, as arms of justice unto God (Rom. 6, 13), for the sanctification of our souls. If these truths are proposed to the faithful for close consideration and meditation, it will be much easier to lead them to the highest perfection.

May God grant, Venerable Brethren, that those who are without the fold may seek out and take up the sweet yoke of Christ for their salvation, and that all of those who, in the merciful designs of God, are of His household may bear that yoke, not as a heavy burden, but with joy and love, and with devotion. So, when we have lived our lives according to the laws of the Kingdom of God, we shall receive the reward of good in the fullest abundance and be counted by Christ among His faithful servants, to share with Him in the everlasting glory and happiness of His Kingdom in Heaven.

Accept, Venerable Brethren, this Our prayer in token of Our fatherly charity as the Feast of the Nativity of Our Lord draws near; and receive as a pledge of heavenly blessings the Apostolic Benediction, which with all Our heart We impart to you, to your clergy, and to your people.

St. Peter’s, Rome, the eleventh day of December in the Holy Year, the fourth year of Our Pontificate.

PIUS XI., POPE

Christ The Modern

BY DANIEL A. LORD, S.J

INDEX

The applause that greeted the close of the lecture was courteous but mild. Father Hall, the lecturer, smiled ironically as he recalled the variety of lecturers who had been applauded on that platform; Judge Sam Quincey defending a new morality for youth; Krishna Murtha expounding Nirvana and the delights of non-existence; John Jones, mild-faced little fanatic high priest of atheism; and Clement Burrows, famous lawyer and ironical enemy of Christianity in any form.

“And then,” thought Father Hall, “I lec ture to them on “The Catholic Church and the Modern World.”” The chairman of the Open-Mind Forum waited in the wings to greet his lecturer.

“Very illuminating, doctor,” he said, boggling at the title, “Father.” “The committee are waiting to take you to dinner.” The priest knew that was part of the proceedings. The lecturer of the day was taken to a dinner table and the committee were permitted to ask him questions. “Heckling” was Father Hall’s less polite word for it. Obediently he followed the chairman as he threaded his way toward the private dining room.

TO THE ATHENIANS

When Father Hall, famous Catholic novelist and pastor of Lakeside, had been asked to lecture before the Open-Mind Forum, his first inclination was to decline with the suggestion that Christianity would seem to be tame subject matter, indeed, after the radical doctrine that was the Forum’s regular fare. For the Forum was very, very advanced.

Then it occurred to him that on the Areopagus St. Paul had talked to a sort of Greek Open-Mind Forum -Athenians who spent the lovely Grecian days corralling every newthought lecturer or prophet of strange creeds. Why shouldn’t he tell the Open-Mind Forum something of the Church he loved, and believed to be the hope of the modern world?

To his surprise, his Bishop answered his note with an approval of his accepting the invitation. Hence the lecture; hence the patter of applause; hence the heckling by the committee.

As he followed the chairman’s lead, he wondered what they had really thought of his thesis: “The Catholic Church brings Christ and His doctrine into the heart of modern civilisation, and whether modern civilisation knows it or not, Christ and His doctrine are the only things that will save that civilisation from complete ruin.”

The dinner table in the special dining room was set with all the things that are as essential to a hotel dinner as a band is to a man’s straw hat. Father Hall, seasoned lecturer, noted the customary banquet “props” and sighed. The conversation would need to be very good indeed to compensate.

NOVELTY

The committee and the committee’s wives and husbands filed into the room. Brief introductions were mumbled, acknowledged, promptly forgotten, and they sat. Next to Father Hall, who was at the chairman’s right, were a young woman and her evidently devoted escort.

“Miss Webb, whose verses you have seen, I”m sure, in “The Manhattanite” and “Vanity Bazaar,” and Mr. Osborne, the humorist.”

“But not, rest assured, a humorist in public,” said the young man impulsively. And Father Hall and the young lady laughed.

They sat, and she said, with a genuineness that rather surprised the priest. “Mr. Osborne and I were thoroughly delighted with your lecture. It was brimful of new ideas.”

“After twenty centuries of Christianity,” the priest replied; “Christ and His doctrines remain the newest things in the world.”

He looked at the young couple with interest. Crisp, keen, alert, with an amused attitude toward life, they were healthy specimens of the modern early twenties.

“You never see “The Manhattanite,” I suppose,” ventured the young man.

“Oh, yes,” replied the priest. “I see almost every issue. And if you are Ford Osborne-” He accented the first name. ““I am.”

“Then I suppose you are Helen Webb.” Again, the accent.

The girl, delighted, turned to Osborne.

“To think we’ve found a priest who knows us by name!” she cried. And the two turned their undivided attention henceforth to him.

But the chairman was waiting to catch his attention.

NEW BECAUSE OUT OF DATE

“I think I can say for all the committee that we were much, much interested in your lecture.”

“Thank you.”

“But with your main thesis, that Christ and Christianity have an important contribution to make to modern civilisation, and that the Church, by giving us Christ and His doctrine, does something of significance for our age-with that, I”m afraid, we largely disagree.”

There was a rustle and murmur of assent down the table, and fruit cocktails (conventional to the last touch of red cherry and canned pineapple) were momentarily neglected.

“Christianity is, as you say, a novelty, an old thing odd in a modern world. But so is Persian sun worship, or the religion of the highly civilised Aztecs. It is the product of another century and style of civilisation, interesting and surprising. But it does not fit into modern times.”

“Precisely,” agreed a distinguished radical editor further down the table. “I personally have the greatest admiration for Jesus.”

“That’s good of you,” murmured Father Hall, so softly that only the girl on his left caught the irony. In a delighted whisper she passed it on to Osborne.

“He was,” continued the editor, “a great religious leader, as Mahomet was, or Confucius, or, in a sense, Plato. But He was of another age. He spoke to a primitive people possessed of simple faith and relatively simple morals. He laid down laws for nomads and dwellers in small villages. He had not the slightest conception of the complicated civilisation which is ours, with its problems, its intricate modes of living, its prejudices and needs. His laws-”

“Which, for example?” asked Father Hall mildly.

“Well, about divorce, for example; or the attitude toward wealth, or regarding faith.”

“Thank you,” said Father Hall. “Forgive the interruption.”

“His laws,” went on the editor, “were quite right enough for His own times and place and people. Under the circumstances they were good. But the circumstances have changed. The whole complexus of life is different. To try to fit those laws into the twentieth century is like asking us to drive Roman oxcarts down Broadway, or to cross the Atlantic in triremes.”

The committee and its wives and husbands loved the editor’s similes. These two delighted them to audible murmurs.

NOT OF OUR AGE

“In other words,” Father Hall added, “to put it crudely (as arguments must eventually be put), Christ does not fit into our modern times, simply because Christ was not a modern. He and His laws and His Church are out of place in modern life, and it is folly to try to makethem fit.”

Half a dozen voices joined in the chorus of assent that went round the table. The editor bowed approvingly. “You have stated the case exactly,” he said.

Father Hall, who had been unconsciously twirling a stalk of celery (he had never been able to break himself of the habit of playing with celery), swept the table with a comprehensive glance.

“Then, it seems, the only problem is to show that Christ is a modern, that He understood our times from an almost per—sonal experience, that He is the most modern Man that ever lived. Well, that I should be very glad to do.”

The voices that followed his challenge were pitched in high excitement. The art editor of a woman’s magazine dropped her fork in protest.

“Doctor Hall,” she cried, “forgive me for being blunt, but it seems to me that is like suggesting that Caesar would be an excellent chief of staff of our air force, or that Archimedes could serve as consulting engineer on our newest skyscraper. Surely they would be as modern a general and engineer today as Christ would be a lawgiver or religious leader.”

ESSENTIALS REMAIN

“My dear lady,” answered the priest, “in citing those two cases, you are making just the most outstanding mistake of the modern mind. Because Christ did not broadcast the Sermon on the Mount or cross the Sea of Galilee in a motor boat, you regard Him as almost of another species. Because Caesar commanded soldiers who fought with spears and short swords, instead of rapid-fire guns and gas, you think him incapable of mastering in two months the details of air fighting. Because Archimedes never saw an elevator, or a heating plant, or a modern bathroom, or a steel-and-concrete structure, you regard him as a primitive-minded mound builder. The machinery of the day does not essentially change a human being. Men are men, and the differences of time change them only in minor ways; and some ages have a way of showing few points of difference.”

“Your Caesar was a bad comparison,” said a famous dramatic critic, addressing the art director. “Don’t you remember that George Bernard Shaw twenty or thirty years ago showed us that Caesar was very much a modern gentleman, who would be perfectly at home in a Broadway night club, or at the head of a squadron of tanks?”

“My thanks for the reinforcements,” smiled the priest. “We have to remind ourselves, much more frequently than we do, that what makes nations different is not the fact that one uses oxcarts and another cars, or that one builds obelisks and another Empire State buildings. They differ by what they do with the oxcarts and cars, and what they think and feel and believe and worship when they put up their buildings. It isn’t machinery that differentiates civilisations; it’s the national cast of mind and morals, its laws and political policies, and religion and moral code.”

ENDURING INFLUENCE

The radical editor lifted an index finger that was like the levelled barrel of a Colt.

“And just because our civilisation and Christ’s are basically different, not in machinery, but in the very things you list,

He does not fit into the age that is ours. You are beaten, if you’ll pardon the word, in your own grounds.” Father Hall wheeled and aimed his own index finger, like the second of a pair of duelling pistols. “And precisely there you are beaten, as I intend to show you.”

Though the waiters were removing the cocktails, many of them untouched, and substituting the soup, pink and tepid, the diners were as alert as spectators at a tennis match. It was the chairman who cut through.

“It seems to me that to call Christ a modern when His influence on modern life is so extremely limited and discredited-”

“That,” interrupted Father Hall, “I would, of course, deny. Because your group is (forgive the word) vociferous, or, at least, highly articulate, that fact prevents you from discovering the wide extent of Christ’s modern influence. The Catholic

Church is not precisely an organisation to ignore; yet in that Church Christ is the paramount influence. There is still a very active Protestant Christianity, much interested in and affected by Christ.

“And, once more turning to yourselves, a great many of you who are protesting violently that you do not believe in

Christ or His doctrines are living much more in accord with His moral teaching than you are personally aware. I have seen any number of radicals who talk, in a vocabulary violently red, theories that are violently anti-Christian, and yet themselves live like Christian ascetics and anchorites. They preach anti-religion and copy the virtues of the saints. You have not by any means completely shaken off the influence of Christ.

MODERNS OF TWO AGES

“However, for the sake of argument, let’s say that the modern world that repudiates Christianity is doing all it can to limit His influence and discredit His law. I could agree with that. Big business finds something very disconcerting in His standards:

“Blessed are the poor in spirit”; “Go sell what thou hast and give to the poor.” His “Blessed are the pure of heart” would probably be plain Greek to the producers of a Broadway revue, or to the advocates of free love or free-and-easy companionate marriage. His insistence on the rights of individuals and their importance and value as against State supremacy and absolutism would sound very odd to certain bureaucrats in Washington, or to Mussolini, or Stalin.

“And when He said to His Church “Who heareth you heareth Me,” He gave that Church an authority most unacceptable to radical individuals or tyrannical States.

“But if the ultra-modern finds these things odd and strange and unimportant, and unacceptable and discredited, he is very much like the ultra-modern of the day in which Christ said them first. The difficulty with those doctrines of Christ is not that they are not modern, but that they make as heavy demands upon the individual today as they did upon the Jew or the Roman two thousand years ago. I”11 admit that many of Christ’s doctrines have been dropped by ultra-moderns because they are hard; but their being hard has nothing to do with their not being modern.”

A poet broke the momentary silence. He was a poet, be it noted, who looked as much like a pugilist as possible- perhaps to disarm those who found his verse very brief, precious, and not precisely virile.

WORLD FIGURE

“I wonder if the doctor, in saying that Christ is a modern, does not perhaps mean rather that He is a world figure, universal in His appeal. as Orestes is, or Hamlet, or Socrates.”

“Who is that?” asked the priest, in a hurried aside addressed to Helen Webb.

“John Andrews, the poet,” she whispered back. “He looks savage, but he wouldn’t tread on a triolet.”

“I mean a great deal more than that,” replied the priest. “Of course, Mr. Andrews, as a poet (Mr. Andrews was visibly pleased that the priest called him by name and profession), you cannot fail to recognise the universal appeal of Christ’s literature-His parables, sermons, epigrams, brief summaries of important truths. There is certainly a modern flavour to everything He said, considering it, I mean, as sheer literature.”

The literary editor was not going to let a mere poet get into his field. “The doctor is absolutely right. Jesus as a literary figure is as modern today as ever. A group of us agreed the other night that the story of the Prodigal Son is still the greatest short story that was ever written, and that when the record of great epigrammatists was compiled, Jesus Christ would lead the rest. And while it takes some mental adjustment to appreciate Homer or Virgil or the Greek dramatists, or even our English writers of the Queen Anne period, the stories Christ told, and the sermons He preached, and the crisp epigrams He uttered sound as modern to us as they must have sounded to the men who first heard them.”

“Even we advertising men can learn from Him,” said one of the committee. ““So let your light shine before men” is the slogan of the men who hung the signs on Broadway.”

Everyone laughed; but, as the laughter died, they turned instinctively to Father Hall.

UNFAIR

“When Mr. Andrews mentioned Christ in the same breath with Orestes and Hamlet and Socrates, he was being very unfair. None of the three exercised, or exercises, a tiny fraction of the influence that is Christ’s. In world literature He is a central figure. You cannot possibly read literature without a very fair knowledge of Him and His work. Mohammedanism, that rejected His doctrines and Church, ranks Him among its major prophets.

“I have watched with great interest the reversal of the Jewish viewpoint on Christ. Not fifty years ago rabbis were, in many cases, still insistently teaching that He never had lived. Recently you have noticed rabbis claiming Him as the greatest of the Sons of Judah. Missionaries soon discover that the Oriental mind at once finds Jesus Christ attractive; and, on the other hand, though He was an Oriental by birth and training, we of the Western world built our civilisation upon Him. So, to compare Him to or couple Him with any other world figure is unfair and not according to the facts.

FOR BEST SELLERS

“Modern writers, you probably have noticed, find Him a subject of unfailing interest to the public, and of unfailing inspiration to themselves. Best sellers are still written by modern authors for modern readers with Christ for their subject.”

“To whom were you referring? These modern authors?” asked the chairman, who prided himself that he was a man who did things instead of reading about them.

“Well, Renan and Strauss were of another generation (less modern than ours), but they started a tradition. Papini wrote Christ into a best seller, and so did Emil Ludwig. Your ultra-sophisticate D. H. Lawrence dies and leaves behind a book with Christ for the leading character-a horrible book, for D. H. Lawrence would be the type who could write a horrible book, even about the Saviour. Bruce Barton-”

The art editor visibly shuddered.

“A typical American advertising man,” she said, damning him to the depths in a phrase.

“Yet who, my dear lady, knows more about what the modern world finds interesting? Who has a better idea of what is popular and appealing to the contemporaneous mind than an advertising man? At least you cannot deny that Mr. Barton wrote a book which wasan enormous seller when he gave the world, “The Man That Nobody Knows.”“

The radical editor spoke up: “Donn Byrne wrote a best seller about Paul of Tarsus, and Elmer Davis wrote one about King David. That does not make Paul and David modern.”

“For one copy of “Brother Saul,”” retorted the priest, “or one of Davis’s books (the name escapes me; it was a cheap piece of work), your bookseller handles ten thousand copies of the Gospels, and a thousand copies of lives of Christ. People do not keep on writing books even about Paul and David. They do put forth an endless succession of books about Jesus Christ. His interest for this, as for every generation, is unfailing.”

FRESH TRUTH

“Another roll?” murmured the waiter, over Father Hall’s shoulder.

Father Hall helplessly indicated the broken but unconsumed roll on his butter plate and shook his head. “Thus far,” the chairman cut in “I think we all follow you. The appeal of Christ’s person remains surprisingly fresh and vigorous. His doctrine, however, is quit e another thing.”

“His doctrines,” Father Hall replied, in what sounded almost like a retort, “are precisely what makes Him most modern. For His doctrines were given to the world at a time so like our own that, if we placed His age and ours in parallel columns, we could fit Christ with equal facility into either.”

“There we disagree.” said the editor emphatically.

“And that I shall prove. I wish we had a historian present to check me on my historical data.”

A singularly quiet, scholarly-looking man down the table, and in the shadow of a buxom matron, stirred into speech. “I dabble in history,” he said.

The chairman positively boomed: “Professor Garner is modest. You probably know, Doctor Hall, some of his books—certainly his “Village Life in Mediaeval France.””

“If Professor Garner will be good enough to correct my errors, I shall feel safe.”

The priest and the historian bowed to each other down the length of the table.

HIS AGE

“The world to which Christ announced His doctrines,” Father Hall resumed, “was not primitive and simple and credulous and of high natural virtue. It was complicated and sophisticated and like our own in a thousand startling ways.”

Father Hall felt rather than saw the two young people at his side push away their almost untouched plates and lean forward to watch him. But, close as they were, they could not catch the prayer that in a breath he offered to the Christ he was announcing “to the Athenians.”

“Rome had developed in about four centuries from a handful of straggling Latin villages to a highly organised, fully policed, elaborately developed, thoroughly centralised, yet graft-ridden, empire. The statue of the emperor was placed in the temple, not that anyone was expected to believe the emperor really divine, but because he was the symbol of the State, and the State had reached the summit of absolute supremacy.

“It was a most elaborate State and a most exacting one. It controlled and sanctioned the tolerated religions. It kept a shrewd eye on commerce. It patronised entertainment. It furthered such education as it desired. It counted the people with careful census, taxed them through an army of subordinate officials, watched over birth and marriage records, and was so all-embracing that it counted the sheep in the flock, the children in the nursery, and kept a paternal eye on the meanest of its subjects in the smallest of its provinces.

“Rome had made State domination an exact science. State worship was not merely a theory; it was a practical fact and an accepted religion.

“This is a very different state of society from the primitive civilisation of which modern writers glibly talk in their effort to discredit Christ. It was one of history’s most elaborate civilisations, the culmination of centuries of cultural development.”

SOPHISTICATION

“But the Jewish nation, not the Roman people, was the recipient of Christ’s teaching,” shot the poet. The historian down the table waited for no cue from Father Hall.

“Judea was perhaps Rome’s most highly civilised province, adding to Rome’s intricate civilisation an elaborate, ancient, and fully developed civilisation and gov ernment of its own.”

“Thank you, doctor,” said Father Hall. “That complex civilisation had produced moral and political problems of which our own are exact duplicates. We’ll see these as we go along.

“Those were not days of primitive morals. The stern, austere virtues of republican Rome had gone to pieces. Divorce was so frequent throughout the empire that we know as a commonplace how Roman women counted their age, not by years, but by their divorces. Jewish divorce was almost as easy and was granted with a speed and facility that make the divorce mill of Reno seem clumsily slow in its grinding.

FREE LOVE THEN

“Free love needed no philosophy to bolster it up. It was the accepted fashion of the day. Slavery made free love easy for any of the groups that could afford to buy a beautiful girl in the open market. Slavery made it practically the only way in which slaves could themselves live together. Courtesans had a recognised place in the social system, like that of the heterai in Grecian civilisation. (Hence the smutty play of a season or so ago, “The Greeks Had a Word for It”). Men did not have the system of the double home; they had triple and quadruple homes-a wife, courtesans, and convenient slaves.

“If we have written modern philosophies of lust, they went us one better and made a religion of it. Venus, Apollo, the Graces and the Muses were served by priestesses who were prostitutes, and they were honoured with ritualistic obscenity. They represented lust and love deified and offered to the people as a religious rule of life.”

Someone down the table tipped a glass of water. There was a frantic damming of the tide with napkins, and a consequent break in the talk.

“I think I see where he is leading,” the girl whispered to Osborne.

“Must be your woman’s intuition; couldn’t possibly be the sudden birth of a sense of logic,” he whispered beck.

“We are listening,” hinted the chairman, and Father Hall resumed.

NO FAITH

“If anyone thinks that those were people of simple faith and credulity, he simply does not know history. In Rome faith among the upper and educated classes was admittedly dead. Scepticism was the prevailing attitude of mind. When Pilate asked ironically, “What is truth?” he was merely echoing the popular attitude that maintained there was no truth.

“The Roman Government welcomed all the gods, because it believed in none of them. Religion was largely a formal civic obligation without any real foundation in belief. Nothing delighted the common people more than the filthy comedies in which the gods and goddesses were objects of ridicule and obscene laughter.

“The philosophers had Plato and Aris totle to give them an idea of the Supreme Being. But the gods of their fathers were left for vine dressers and cobblers and expectant peasant mothers to worry about.”

“But here at least,” said the poet, “I am right in insisting that the Jews were Christ’s real contemporaries.”

“And faith was at a low ebb in Judea. The Sadducees, powerful in Jerusalem, were out-and-out materialists, who had no belief even in a future life. The Pharisees had allowed the faith to deteriorate into rigid, external formalism, a matter of washed hands and precisely cut clothes, and the exact tithe of one’s income and trim of one’s beard. There remained almost no real reference to the supernatural.”

SUPERSTITIONS

“ YetI thought that fortune tellers and seers and all sorts of superstition were common in Rome,” objected the art editor.

“They were, just as they are in the world of today. Roman senators, like United States senators, were known to consult the seers. The people ran to their fortune-tellers as our moderns run to seances and palmists. Probably they had no astrologer in Rome as nationally important as Evangeline Adams. But they had their Roman equivalents of Friday the thirteenth, and spilled salt, and walking under ladders.

“You see, contrary to the usual opinion, superstition grows strong when religion grows weak. Superstition does not result from religion; it tries tosubstitute for it”

“Cleverly put,” murmured Osborne, and his partner nodded approvingly. The history professor was now thoroughly interested.

ANCIENT BIG BUSINESS

“You might tell about big business and the dole,” he suggested.

“I was coming to them,” replied the priest. “But you could do it much better than I.”

“Not at all. You are giving a very competent analysis. Please go ahead.”

“Business,” the priest continued, “had developed on a terrific scale. Trade had become world-wide. Gigantic fleets carried grain and produce and ore. Luxuries were shipped to the farthest parts of the empire. Men made fortunes that were equivalent to millions in our modern money.”

“No one knows how much old Crassus was worth,” put in the professor, all interest; “but he was rich enough to buy what amounted to a third share in the whole empire.”

“And with these tremendous fortunes, a great army of unemployed developed.

Hence the dole came in. They gave this mob bread and circuses.-panem et circenses, or, as wemight say today, “a sandwich and the talkies.” Men became bloatedly wealthy and they kept the underdogs from biting by a very elaborate dole.

“Rome was filled with the faults of an intricate civilisation, political graft, the buying and selling of power, standing armies, that were gradually coming to consist of hired foreign soldiers, as the Romans developed a decided spirit of pacifism, a thoroughly rotten theatre, to match which Broadway has still a few parasangs to go, the problem of the idle sons of wealthy families, a falling birthrate, and a dozen other very modern features. Am I right, Doctor Garner?”

“Absolutely. You have given highlights only, but they were accurate.”

CHRIST AND THE STATE

“Into this singularly modern world came Jesus Christ, offering a body of doctrine that, if it now seems strangely out of place to the ultra-modern, seemed absolutely mad to the moderns of His day.

“He met State absolutism and State worship with an insistence on the importance and sacredness of the individual, an almost unheard-of ideal. The single human soul was to Him more important than the whole world, and its loss could not be made up for by the gaining of that world. He divided authority so that the State could no longer be absolute. Caesar had his rights, but so had God. (The Roman gods, be it remembered, were the servants of the State, while, by contrast, the God of Israel was permitted no part with Caesar.)

“The Church He established had clear-cut rights and authorities that caused Roman absolutism to regard it as an active menace. (State absolutists have so regarded it ever since.) There were certain rights of the soul, the individual, the family, that no State dared usurp. Christ’s principle: “To Caesar, Caesar’s; to God, God’s,” was startlingly novel. Even more so was His principle that the heavenly Father had care for the least important slave that was kicked about by some half witted patrician.

“And as He emphasised these things, He talked, not to nomads in loosely organised villages, but to citizens of a proud empire, whose civil administration and complicated legislation and swift-moving armies were strong enough to bind the world together in the Roman peace.”

THE STATE SUPREME

“I think I follow you. I can see what you are driving at,” admitted the radical editor.

“I certainly do not,” said the art editor.

Father Hall turned toward her.

“The modern world is entering upon a State absolutism like Rome’s. Russia is the obvious case. But if Mussolini were to put the statue of “Italia Victrix” in the church of St. John Lateran and demand a formal worship for it, he would not be putting much additional emphasis on the State supremacy for which he stands. Our own short-sighted lawmakers are interfering in everything-denying a man his rights over his own children, and the insane the right to life, and criminals a right to their manhood, propounding a doctrine that there is absolutely nothing above the State.”

“And you all know,” said the radical editor, with set jaw, “what I think of State absolutism and the fools that propose it.”

“Believe me,” continued the priest, “if Christ came today and talked of the rights of the individual to the rulers of Soviet Russia, or of the double loyalty to State and God to those who fought Al Smith hardest, or of a father’s right to select the education for his children to promoters of a complete State control of education, He would find little more welcome than He found among the people of His day.

“He saw State absolutism all about Him, and hated it and condemned it. And if Mexico and Spain and France and Russia passed laws against freedom of worship or the rights of the Church He established. He would urge His followers to die as the martyrs died for thesefundamental human rights.”

“He has them there,” said Osborne, in an aside to the girl. But she was rapt in attention.

PURITY FOR THE LUSTFUL

“If the teachings of Christ regarding purity sound odd today, believe me they were the stuff of laughter for the men of His times. He was saying to an age of libertines, “Blessed are the pure of heart.” He was praising the innocence of children to debauchees, and defending the woman repenting of her adultery from the men who had taught her to sin. He was the first to pick a Magdalen from the gutter into which lust had pitched her, as He was the first man to hold up His own virgin life for imitation.

“Rememb er, He was not talking to peoples of simple, wholesome morality. He was talking to an age that had made lust a religion and free love a custom of life. He saw, as a practical man might see, that purity was the one answer to the foulness existing everywhere about Him. He came not to approve what they had, but to demand what they sorely needed.

“Christ, if He walked Broadway tonight, could see in free love and unrestricted self -realisation, in the single standard of sin for men and women, in highly commercialised and refined lust, in the stripping of women for public entertainment, in the rotten theatre, in the philosophy that says a man cannot be pure and a woman cannot be good, just a modern counterpart of what He saw under pagan domination.

“And when He met these conditions with “Blessed are the pure of heart,” the lustful soldier in the Roman barracks and the lustful patrician in his palace, the pander and the Roman theatrical producer, the priest and priestess serving the temples of Venus, the philosophers who met to discuss abstract virtue amid the morally rotten atmosphere of the baths, the Roman matron with her fifth husband, and the Jewish merchant with his fourth wife-all these thought Him mad, as Herod did when He dressed Him as a court fool and let his lecherous court make mock of Him.”

THE FRUITS OF DIVORCE

The group about the table were tense with interest. But Father Hall pushed on.

“Christ was not preaching the discontinuance of divorce to an age that agreed with Him. When He flatly called divorce with remarriage adultery, His own followers were so disturbed that they muttered, “Then it is better for a man not to marry.” He saw a world rotten with the effects of universal divorce, and He met the problem by a complete abolition of divorce. He looked upon the practical effects of divorce universally accepted in His day and saw that there was no way of curing the horrible conditions but by ending divorce completely and making marriage indissoluble and sacred.

“When our modern divorce advocate s urge divorce as a solution of marital problems, they are just urging a return to the awful quagmire out of which Christ pulled the human race.

“We may be absolutely sure that if Christ today walked into Paris or Reno or Mexico He would see just what He saw in Rome and Jerusalem, and He would give precisely the same stern answer to the problem that He spoke then: “He that putteth away his wife and marrieth another committeth adultery.” The Jews and the Romans did not much like His teachings then. Nor does your divorce advocate like them today.”

AGAINST HIS TIMES

No one spoke. There really seemed to be nothing to say. The fact that the waiters were busy removing the dishes was an excuse for the rather embarrassing silence. But the girl near Father Hall talked to her partner in an undertone:

“Had you ever thought of all that?”

He shook his head: “I really thought that Christ spoke merely out of the heart of His own times.”

“And apparently He talked directly against it. It’s astonishing.”

When the clatter of the departing dishes had died a little, Father Hall resumed.

TOO EASY MONEY

“I suggested that “Blessed are the poor of spirit” would sound like silly nonsense to modern big business. Well, it sounded like rot to the wealthy patricians and commerciallyminded Jews of Christ’s day. The Romans saw wealth as power, saw the unlimited possibilities of commerce opened up by Roman roads and Roman fleets and the Roman peace; saw the easy opportunities for exploiting the provinces. Millions could be made overnight-and this crack-brained reformer said it was blessed to be poor in spirit!

“Th e Jews, natural traders and money-makers, found the principle equally absurd. One rich young man, who really was anxious to follow Christ, found His words so utterly incomprehensible that he turned away sorrowing and left Christ forever.

“Jerusalem was filled, as every city in the world was filled, with Jewish merchant princes. (Lew Wallace in “Ben Hur” gives no exaggerated picture of the extent of Jewish fortunes and enterprises.) The priests themselves had rich concessions in the temple that meant the sale during the Paschal season of possibly a quarter of a million lambs in a single week. They understood quite a little as did the rich patricians what this poor son of an unsuccessful carpenter, the companion of fishermen and small tradesmen, meant by His nonsense about poverty of spirit and selling all to give to the poor.

“Big business then was like big busi ness now, and equally scornful of what Christ taught. Yet, seeing what big business had done to enslave mankind, exploit the workingman, rob weak provinces, build up a ruthless system of monopolies and high prices, He had for His remedy the incredible contradictory of all this-poverty of spirit and detachment from wealth.

THE “RADICAL” POPES

So modern, by the way, are the teachings of Christ regarding capital and labour that when Pope Leo XIII. and Pope Pius XI. repeat His principles to the world, they come as the most surprising and radical of theories. They are actually, to a man who studies them with an open mind (few have open minds, and fewer even bother to read the Papal pronouncements at all), doctrines which, if applied to modern business, would be the solution of all our problems of capital, labour, living wage, depression, the safeguarding of private property, and the rights of a man to decent work.”

The radical editor broke the brief silence. “I read them,” he said, “and I must admit they surprised me with their liberal spirit and advanced thinking. It had not occurred to me that they were the echoes of Christ’s teachings.”

“Yet they are,” said Father Hall.

SCEPTICS

“For all that,” the poet objected, “I cannot but feel that in one way there is no parallel between our age and Christ’s. He was talking to an age in which faith was easy, especially faith in the supernatural. Our age is too sceptical for His fundamental postulates.”

“It’s interesting,” said the priest, “to see with what complete scepticism His con temporaries received His teachings. When the Apostle St. Paul talked to the Athenians of the resurrection of the body, they met his words with roars of laughter. The Jewish Sadducees found not only the doctrine of personal resurrection but all idea of a future life so silly that they thought they could trick Christ by asking Him about the woman with five husbands: “Which one would she be married to in Heaven?”

“When He promised the Blessed Sacra ment, His Flesh to eat and His Blood to drink, His followers turned away by the hundreds, to walk no more with Him. He was asking too much of human credence.

His miracles had as little effect on them as the miracles of Lourdes (or the delicious miracle of Father Malachy) have on the modern sceptics.

“And when He announced Himself to be the Son of God, far from accepting Him with a burst of blind credulity, they promptly put Him to death.

“Yet He demanded of that incredulous, sceptical group an implicit faith in the supernatural. He stressed the future life, a system of unseen grace, the power of prayer, supernatural reward and punishment, an astounding complexity of truths that passed sense and were too delicate to be weighed in the balance of mere reason.

PLEASURE-MAD

“We live among sceptics; so did Christ. To the great annoyance of these sceptics, the Church stresses the supernatural, but no more so than did Jesus Christ when He thrust the supernatural into the faces of men whose only thought was earth and its enjoyment, and who had, in many cases, less supernatural faith than the most ardent disciple of the newest revival of that ancient creed called atheism.”

Once more Father Hall paused and swept the table with a glance. As no one spoke, he continued: “Ours is an age of feverish quest for amusement. So was Christ’s. Circuses were coupled in equal importance with bread.

Rome built its places of amusement more elaborately than does the most lavish motion picture theatre architect today. The theatre was an important institution even in distant colonies.

“We have no conception of the days of riotous merrymaking that followed the triumphant return of a victorious general. The temples were centres of pleasure. Weeks were set aside for boisterous celebration. The arena was jammed; the hippodromes crowded. Drunkenness was the commonest of vices.

“And Jesus, Who saw that very modern scramble for amusement, though He Himself was a delightful dinner guest and the best and most companionable of friends, Who delighted in the simple joys of simple people, spoke insistently of two intertwined elements; the shadow of the cross that fell over every life and the importance of the eternal joy that came to those who accepted that cross for His sake.

PLEASURE TO PAIN

“When the joint doctrines of the cross and eternal happiness were first discussed in the luxurious baths of Rome, they sounded just as ridiculous as they would sound in a modern night club. The weary-eyed Broadway first-nighter and bon vivant finds them today no less absurd as a theory of happiness than did the Roman wandering from chariot race to temple grove, to tavern, to theatre, to arena, to luxurious bath. And the poor, modern shop-girl, coming wide-eyed from following Norma Shearer, as in beautiful clothes and glamorous settings she breaks the Commandments to the accompaniment of raucous laughter, finds His theory of duty and the cross as strange, and His promise of eternal happiness as elusive, as did the slaves who occupied the top seats to watch gladiators slay one another and actresses be raped for the amusement of the mob.

“Don’t think for a moment that Christ preached unhappiness. He only saw that the mad quest of pleasure ended inevitably in the finding of pain. He saw a joy-mad world whose eyes were heavy with misery, and whose feet were chained with passion, Though He spoke of the cross, He spoke of it as a yoke that was sweet and a burden that was light. Not in running after pleasure do men find happiness. They find it in the path of duty and the road of service and selfsacrifice, which was first traced by the heavily dragging end of a cross.

“Christ’s threats levelled against unjust judges, extortioners, exploiters of the lab ouring classes, and oppressors of the poor, rang with strangely unfamiliar melody in the ears of the downtrodden of His day and with jangling discord in the ears of those at whom they were hurled. In that too, He spoke in opposition to the existing customs and His times. He would speak the same words to those who today drain the blood of workingmen, or, seated on the judicial bench, buy and sell a parody on justice, or who exploit the helpless to feed their own greed.”

“WE HAVE OUR OWN LEADERS”

Another pause, which this time was broken by a criticism tossed by a hitherto silent figure across the table. Father Hall remembered him as a well-known Communist who stood high in the councils of his party.

“You have forgotten one thing, doctor. Christ has been supplanted. We have no need to follow a man of twenty centuries ago when we have men of today. Darwin and Karl Marx are our prophets, who give, in a language we understand, answers to the problems they have faced and known. Perhaps Christ might answer them, too. We have no need to investigate. Marx and Darwin satisfy us completely.”

Father Hall faced the objector with a half-smile.

“Yet,” he replied, “I have noticed that no prophets are as short-lived as your modern leaders. Do you know that in Soviet Russia today a thousand copies of Lenin’s books are sold for one copy of Marx’s “Capital”? Do you know that scarcely a leading scientist in the world still holds the theory of Natural Selection? Socialism remains, but not the socialism of Marx. Evolution as a theory is very strong, but Darwin, its prophet, has been succeeded by minor but more persuasive prophets. Christ alone remains unchanged and without need of change or successor.

“There is something of pathos in the way your modern prophets rise and fall; Ibsen was a prophet forty years ago. Who reads Ibsen now for his theories of life? His plays on the current stage seem stale and trite, or absurd. George Bernard Shaw was a prophet. His comedies, written in the first decade of the century, are already outmoded. Havelock Ellis was a startling pioneer in morality; his voice is now scarcely heard among us. Eugene O”Neill was a master in Israel; his plays are already becoming literary curiosities.

“And Christ remains. After twenty centuries His doctrines and principles of life are as fresh and vigorous and applicable to modern conditions as they were when He preached the Sermon on the Mount. His words are still the words of eternal life and the grandest of common sense. Christ is the modern of moderns, understanding us better than we understand ourselves.”

EVER NEW

The chairman glanced at his watch. The dregs of the coffee in the cups were long since cold and filmy. Ashes covered the table in little grey piles. The dining-room was hot and close and filled with the blue haze of smoke. But Father Hall was not yet through.

“Christ obtrudes Himself on no generation,” he said. “He offers His doctrines and His solutions for problems, and then waits for acceptance. Yet, doesn’t it seem strange that after two thousand years we, who are of another century, still sit and discuss Him with livest interest? Plato’s Republic is an interesting if obsolete and unexciting theory of life. Bacon’s sequel to Plato’s book is of concern only to scholars. A thousand scholars and thinkers have devised a thousand theories by which men were asked to live. Who now remembers those theories, or tries to live by them?

TWO REMAIN

“But Christ’s theory of life and living is just as alive and vital and fresh today as it was when He spoke to ambitious Jews and cynical Romans. All others we see grow stale during the lifetime of their authors. We forget them within a generation.

“But Christ and His theories of life? We still, whether we approve or disapprove, cannot possibly escape them . They are of the immediate day, for He is of all time.

“There are teachers whose teachings fade and fail before their class is ended. He spoke His doctrines under the skies, and they will last until the skies have fallen- always ancient, always new. Christ, as St. Paul cried, now and “forever!”

The chairman coughed, moved restlessly, and then brought the dinner and its discussion to a close.

“We certainly,” he said, “appreciate Doctor Hall’s great patience with us. We are, I suppose, of the race of Pilate rather than of the race of Peter. We are interested in truth, because we feel we shall never find that truth. We admire Christ, though we confess we cannot follow Him. But we have spent a profitable evening and a most suggestive one. For that we owe our friend, Doctor Hall, much gratitude. We have had given us abundant food for thought. Without further discussion we stand adjourned.”

Chairs were pushed back with a sharp clatter. Conversation broke loose. Hands were shaken, and Father Hall stood answering vague farewells and acknowledging vague congratulations.

The chairman proffered a lift home in his car, but Father Hall politely declined. A waiter appeared in the doorway, looking with accustomed and weary eye at the soiled and mussed table. The voices of the departing guests came back from the hall beyond.

Then Father Hall felt the presence of waiting figures. He turned and smiled at Helen Webb and Ford Osborne, who stood looking at him expectantly.

“Thank you,” said the girl, simply. “We owe you a great deal. It meant more to us than we can say.”

“Under cover of the noise,” said the young man, “we’ve been talking. You see, it’s queer to admit it, but for a long time back we’ve been feeling there is something missing in our lives.”

“Something central, unifying, binding together all these queer, apparently disjointed things that make up existence,” supplied the girl.

“And we thought it might be-well, the Person you talked of tonight. Do you think He has a solution for our problem, too?”

Father Hall replied gravely: “I can only answer as He answered another young man who asked a similar question, “Come and see.””

“Does that mean we may come and see you?” asked the young man, almost shyly.

“And talk-about ourselves?” she asked, in a quick breath.

“I live an hour and a half by car from town,” Father Hall replied. “Lakeside.”

“We’ll come,” they said, and with a quick shake of the hand were gone.

And as Father Hall, a few minutes later, buttoned his topcoat and swung off into the crisp night air, he smiled happily at the unseen Christ Who always walked close to his side.

Nihil Obstat:

F. Moynihan,

Censor Deputatus.

Imprimatur:

@ D. Mannix,

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis.

********

Christ’s Brotherhood: Its Social Value

BY REV. GARRETT PIERSE, D.D

INDEX

I. -SHAM FRATERNITY

Since the days of the French Revolution the world has heard much of Fraternity. Those who use the term so glibly forget the source from which it springs ; they do not appreciate the fact that the name of brotherhood was borrowed from Christianity. Nay, rather, they often vilify that source. It is an ungracious return to that august institution from which their most vivid ideas are derived. But a curse, the curse of unfruitfulness, followed the unwarranted taking of that sacred name of brotherhood. They took the name ; the reality they could not take. The French revolutionaries spoke of universal brotherhood, but it was a catch-cry, a make-believe, a sham. The spirit of that cry they did not show to all men; least of all did they show it to Christians. Instead of comradeship they gave a bloodbath; instead of Fraternity they gave the guillotine. At Lyons even the guillotine was regarded as too tardy an engine of destruction ; batteries of cannon were reared, and parties of two hundred men and women, tied by a rope to a row of trees, were slaughtered at the same time with grape shot. When it was found that sometimes, through the intermingling of spectators, there were more shot than had been condemned, Collot d’Herbois, a member of the military tribunal, cynically observed: “What signifies it that there are too many? If they die today, they cannot die tomorrow.”*

Another judge of this tribunal wrote to a friend: “What enjoy ment you would have felt if you had yesterday witnessed justice executed upon 209 wretches! What majesty! How imposing a sight! The whole was edifying. . . . .Truly it was a spectacle worthy of liberty !” **

In more recent times the experiment of comradeship was repeated in a country of vast potentialities. We are familiar with the result. Many changes were effected; an old tyranny was broken ; the gospel of a full meal attracted starving men; but universal brotherhood there was none. Rather, there were wholesale imprisonments, death for numerous fellow-countrymen, amongst them Catholic priests who dared to call their souls their own and who faced tyranny with the assertion of the old Gospel of spiritual values. The truth is that the secret of brotherhood is not in the hands of these revolutionaries, or of any man. Brotherhood could never have blossomed into such glory as it did in early Christianity were it not for a Divine Force.

Before Christ there was not even the idea of universal brotherhood; He introduced it to a wondering world. Neither Jew nor Gentile had possessed it. The Gentile world, Greek and Roman, made a religion of valour, not of love. So far were they from recognizing universal brother-hood that the majority in their nations were slaves, to be bought and sold, property without any of the sacredness even of property.*** There was no heart in the relationships between the various classes of men. St. Paul mentions as the blackest sin of many of these pagans that they were without affection. So they remained, cold as their marble statues that are preserved in our Art Museums from the salvage of time and that still look out upon us, like beings from another world, with a gaze which, though beautiful and immortal, is haughty and impassive.

The Jews, in many respects superior to the Gentiles, were like them in the want of universal brotherhood, Although they were bidden to love their neighbours as themselves (Lev. xix., 18), and to leave the gleanings to the poor, and to show compassion and relief to the slave at stated periods, their vision reached only to Jews and the stranger within the land. They might not take interest from one another, but they were allowed to take it from the aliens living outside Jewish territory. The eyes of Moses, Divine legislator though he was, were held so that even he could not see the vision in all its fulness. Not a man but a God gave universal brotherhood to men.

*Buzot’s Mem. recherches, p. 89: Quoted by Redhead, French Revolutions (1848), p. 311. ** Same reference. *** Varro defines a slave as “a vocal kind of tool.” Tacitus describes in operation the law that prescribed the death of every slave in the house if the master were murdered (Annal. xiv., c. 44). Pollio fed his lampreys on slaves (Seneca, De Clement. i., 18). Cicero looked down on all tradesmen as “barbarians” engaged in “sordid occupations” (De Officiis, 42: Tusc. Disp. v. 46). And as to the poor, a rhetorician of the imperial days addressed a rich man: “Could you possibly let yourself down so low as not to repel a poor man from you with scorn ?” (Quintil., Decl. 301, iii, 17. Doellinger, Gentile and Jew, ii, p 278)

II -CHRIST’S BROTHERHOOD: WHAT IT MEANS

Christ exemplified in Himself His doctrine of service and of comradeship. He came not to be ministered to, but to minister ; and it is in accordance with His counsel, that the man who takes His place and possesses the highest dignity on earth calls himself the servant of servants. Can the world show a host like Him, Who, girding Himself with a towel, washes the feet of His guests ?Nothing can be imagined that even approaches this in human service. We shrink, as did Peter, from the very thought of it. Christ washes the feet of a democracy surely, if ever there was such ; of fishermen like Andrew and John.

His brotherhood was bounded by no geographical, no moral frontier. Neighbouring nations, then as now, were a source of irritation, if not an object of hatred. People might believe that they should love the neighbour if an individual, but no nation either then or now was prone to recognize the necessity of loving a neighbour nation. Yet Christ, Jew as He was, paid a tribute in His parable to the Samaritan philanthropist and showed kindness to the Samaritan sinner.

Christ’s brotherhood knew no caste distinctions. Each true Christian is of incalculable value, heir to a heavenly kingdom, a sharer in Divinity (II Peter, I. 4). Doubting Pilates might ask in surprise of Christ-”You are a King, then ?” They might also wonder at the dignity given to the least of His followers: “I dispose to you,” He says, “as My Father disposed to Me, a Kingdom” (Luke xxii, 28). Christ identifies His followers with His own royal personality. He pleads with their fiercest persecutor-”Saul, Saul, why persecutest thou Me?” And Paul never forgot this lesson so vividly and wistfully impressed that Christians are identified with Christ in one body; He makes it the master-thought of all his practical teaching. Christ, then, is persecuted even after Golgotha. He is occasionally scourged at the stone pillar of Business. He is still sometimes crowned with the thorns of riches.

St. Paul is the most luminous interpreter of this enduring brotherhood. “With Christ there is neither Jew nor Bar- barian nor Scythian; neither bondsman nor free” (Coloss. iii., II). How mad such idealism must have appeared to the practical men of Paul’s day! As if he were to say in our day: “With Christ there is neither Englishman nor Irishman; with Christ there is neither capitalist nor workman.” The idea of doing away with caste distinctions by the stroke of a pen! Yet the mad dream of the idealist, Paul, was translated into reality. It was not the cold white light of intellect but the atmosphere of heart, introduced into the world by Christ and announced by Paul, that gradually softened the condition of the slave; from slave to serf, from serf to servant. And that process is not yet complete. If the past foretells the future, if Christianity is still a Divine force, we can predict an indefinitely greater amelioration of the condition of the workman. For over all this process there broods the Spirit of One who once lived on this earth, and did not call His helpers servants, but brothers and friends.

The difference between the brotherhood of Christ and the fraternity of revolutionaries is that Christ is able to make His brotherhood a reality, and not an empty profession. He made the love of brotherhood the central portion of His teaching ; He made it the one great law of the New Code He promulgated ; He threatened damnation to those who have not a working love of others. He prayed, we may be sure, effectively, for the unity of brotherhood during His last night on earth. He hedged it around with every imaginable fence. He safeguarded it through a Church unified by its faith, its sacraments, its worship, and its marvellously organized government culminating in one visible Head. To secure brotherhood He instituted a special visible means of inner grace. For He does not merely command like others, but He helps to fulfil His own command. We have a standing proof of this fact in the Eucharistic rite, which is significantly called Communion, Fellowship. The Eucharist is the sacrament instituted by Christ to make His brotherhood a visible reality ; the Eucharistic altar was the table on which were placed the gifts of the early Christians in communion with one another, and from which was distributed by the deacons the fourth part of these offerings as the patrimony of the poor.

The Eucharist, then, is the chief source of Christian fellowship, of communion, but another wonderful source is the Communion of Saints; its esprit de corps being none other than the unifying Spirit of God. All genuine Christians are held united by the golden chain of prayer. St. Paul speaks of the true equality between rich and poor (II Cor. viii, 13 ; ix, II). If the rich give to the poor, equality is preserved by the poor also giving an alms to the rich, the alms of prayer. Christian charity does not then imply any patronising, any lowering of the condition of the poor : whereas the State- and it is a disturbing thought for those who seek in official control the cure of all our economic ills-when it took over from the Church this form of social work, undid the work of the monasteries, and soured the sweetest name found on earth, the name of charity: the poor whom Christ blessed the State branded as paupers.

III.-CHRISTIAN BROTHERHOOD WOULD EFFECT A WORLD REVOLUTION. Some will object that Christianity also, Brotherhood in Christ, has been tried and found wanting as a social force. Who are they who make this assertion? They are those who have never tried Christianity to the full. Had they given Christianity a full and fair trial, as did St. Vincent de Paul, between whom and any philanthropic worker of the world there is no comparison, they would not make the statement ; they would know that the social forces of Christianity will never be exhausted, for they are the resources of Divinity capable of being ever adapted to the changing circumstances of men. Had they experimented, they would discover that Christianity holds the keys of social life and death. The trouble is that much of the force of Christianity is still tied up through the ignorance or lack of co-operation of many

Christians. Few realize even in a faint way the dynamic quality of Christianity, that is to say, the forcefulness of God in this final age. People realized it better in the first ages when they saw it operating for the first time, when the old values were being shattered by the new force. Christianity laid its axe to the root of a decadent society with a vigour which is not found even in the dreams of Socialism. Much of the force of Christianity needs only ignition of the fuse to send forth the fire that Christ came to cast upon the earth. But for this end the co-operation of man is needed. All must do their part. If any man doubts that much of the force of Christianity is bound up, or that its escape would effect a revolution, let him think what a change would be effected if the capitalist were to use socially his surplus wealth, if in time of need he were in truth his brother’s keeper.

IV. -WHAT BROTHERHOOD WOULD EFFECT IN THE SOCIAL USE OF CAPITAL. The impulse of a brother is to share a loaf with a brother. Christianity encourages this impulse; it promotes spontaneity ; it blesses the cheerful giver ; not for it the enforced service of the slave. But after leaving a wide margin to the impulses of love and humanity, after extending the field of counsel regarding what is laudable in kindly relations between brother and brother, Christianity definitely maps out certain obligations of the possessors of wealth. If these counsels and precepts were observed, the world would not now be suffering from the extremes of industrial piracy and penury, of gigantic fortunes and grinding destitution.* Christ’s teaching was regarded as anti-social and uneconomic because He encouraged the distribution of wealth, struck at the materializing of life-values, and denounced by anticipation the modern godless usury and worship of money. He told men not to be solicitous for the morrow, and not to hoard their treasures on earth.

As against this unsocial hoarding of wealth the Doctors of the Church clearly laid down that the wealthy have ties of humanity as well as of property, and must look upon themselves as bound by a stern duty if their brother is in necessity. Since any attempt to interfere with private property, or to assert its communal obligation, is apt to be resented as something nigh to Bolshevism, I shall give the measured words of the most representative Catholic theologian, St. Thomas of Aquin. After asserting and establishing the right to acquire private ownership he proceeds: “Another thing that concerns man in regard to the possession of external things is their use; and in this regard a man should not look upon external goods as private but as common ; in this sense, namely, that he should easily share them in others’ necessity.”**

Later on. St. Thomas maintains that this is not a mere counsel but a duty: “Human laws m ust yield to the natural law; by the natural law proceeding from Divine Providence the purpose of earthly goods is to meet human needs; the division of property arising from human law must be subordinated to these needs ; and so the superabundant wealth of

* The estimate has been made in the country of the famous economist, Adam Smith, that 90 per cent. of the wealth is possessed by 4 per cent. of the population, the so-called upper class, and 10 per cent. by the remaining 96 per cent. of the people. L. C. Chiozza, Money, Riches and Poverty (1911), pp, 44–50.

** (Summa Theolog. iia iiae : Q. 66, a 2) some is by natural law due to the sustenance of the poor.”* Yet St. Thomas does not draw the line too strictly for human nature. First, one is bound to give only out of superfluous goods, that is, out of what is left over after what is necessary for providing for the needs of oneself or one’s dependents, and what is necessary for one’s status in life. Secondly, St. Thomas implies ownership and not a mere stewardship of these goods by teaching that the duty is one of charity, not justice. Thirdly, a strict obligation exists only if our intervention is required by an individual in extreme need (i.e., want of the necessaries of life) or by the commonwealth in grave need.**

THE ANGELIC DOCTOR DOES BUT REPEAT THE TEACHINGS OF THE EARLY FATHERS OF THE CHURCH, OF THOSE WHO WERE NEAREST CHRIST AND BEST INTERPRETED HIS SPIRIT. IT IS ESPECIALLY APPROPRIATE IN OUR DAY TO LISTEN TO THEIR THUNDERINGS AGAINST THE MISUSE OF WEALTH. BASIL THE GREAT PREACHED IN HIS DAY: “IF YOU CONFESS THAT THESE THINGS COME TO YOU FROM GOD, NAMELY, YOUR TEMPORAL GOODS, IS GOD UNJUST DISTRIBUTING THEM AMONG US IN UNEQUAL FASHION? WHY DO YOU ABOUND AND WHY IS THAT OTHER MAN A BEGGAR UNLESS THAT YOU MAY HAVE THE MERIT OF GOOD DISPENSING AND THAT HE MAY HE GLORIFIED WITH THE PRIZE OF PATIENCE? IT IS THE BREAD OF THE FAMISHED THAT YOU HOARD UP ; IT IS THE COAT OF THE NAKED THAT YOU LOCK UP IN YOUR WARD-ROBE; IT IS THE SHOE OF THE DISINHERITED THAT ROTS IN YOUR POSSESSION; IT IS THE MONEY OF THE NEEDY THAT YOU KEEP BURIED.”*** ST. AMBROSE USES ALMOST THOSE VERY WORDS,AND ON ANOTHER OCCASION HE SAYS: “FEED HIM THAT IS FAMISHING ; IF YOU HAVE NOT DONE SO, YOU HAVE KILLED HIM.”

These words of the greatest Doctor and of the greatest Fathers show how wrong is the supposition of Communists that Christianity merely encourages resignation when people are oppressed by economic conditions. They disclose how groundless is the saying of Marx that religion is the opium of the masses. They also indicate how futile is the fatalist theory of some Christians that poverty is to be taken for granted. These comfortable people shrug their shoulders; falsely represent Christ as saying: “The poor you shall always have with you”; and dismiss the whole problem of poverty from their thoughts, adopting an attitude of spiritual laissez-faire. No greater injustice could be done to Christ than by supposing with Communists that He encouraged a passive fatalist attitude in regard to destitution, or by supposing with some Christians that poverty in the sense of destitution is a consecrated state that it were impious to disturb. Christianity is not static, but dynamic; it is the most ex-plosive force the world has known; even the mother of Christ-she who is pictured as all meekness by those who identify charity with sentimentality rather than with a flame of the soul-even the clement, loving Mary breaks forth at the birth of Christianity into vigorous wordsthat announce the Divine revolution, God’s constant rebelling against the unjust things that are: “He hath shewed might in his arm; he hath scattered the proud in the conceit of their heart. He hath put down the mighty from their seat and hath exalted thelowly.” (Luke i, 51, 52).

If one examines the context of those much abused words of Christ about the poor, one finds that they suggest not that the poor are poor to be left poor, but that the poor are to be relieved. He had just accepted at Bethany the rich gift of spikenard ointment poured on His head and feet by Mary, the sister of Lazarus, because the chance of doing Him this kindness was unique; He was to pass from among men. But concerning the poor He said: “The poor you have always with you; and whensoever you will, you may do them good” (Mark xiv, 7); the clear implication being that there was always an opportunity for His listeners of relieving destitution. And if there should remain any doubt about the matter, it would be removed by the fact that Christ counselled His close followers to sell all their goods for the benefit of the poor, and that He will make the question of the relief of the needy the subject of the last Great Audit.

It is often said that He counselled poverty. But no small confusion arises in the mind of some because they do not distinguish between detachment from earthly goods and destitution, between poverty and pauperism. It is not proved that Christ anywhere counselled men to be destitute. History shows that there are moral dangers in destitution as well as in wealth. Those dangers may be avoided, but it still remains true that in the grinding struggle for physical subsistence there is not so much time for the spiritual values; there is a temptation to lying and to servility of soul. That the Church of Christ does not understand by the poverty she counsels and fosters mere destitution, the lack of some necessaries of life, which owing to a degradingly low public opinion the world tolerates, is made abundantly clear from those religious institutes which administer a vow of poverty. In these communities which were intended as

* (IBID : ART. 7) ** (SAME REF., Q. 32 AA 5, 6) *** (HOMILY ON LUKE XII) (SERMO 64 DE TEMP.) (LIB. 1 DE OFFIC. CAP. 30) models of Christian living, which were set up as the embodiment of the Christian ideal at its purest, the dwellers were not supposed to be without the necessaries of life, of physical efficiency; in countries where the custom prevailed they could have a glass of wine; they had a reasonable amount of time for recreation and relaxation; they sometimes got a brief vacation; they were provided with the means of comfortable travelling, when this was necessary. Any curtailment of the rights of physical subsistence and efficiency was jealously guarded against.

Furthermore, these communities, which cultivated poverty in the sense of using only what was sufficient, proved one thing for all time against the opponents of Christianity. They showed by the eloquent logic of facts that Christianity does not fail as a social force. The generous souls that faced the supreme adventure, that threw themselves entirely on Christ andtook Him at His word, supplied a living commentary on the truth of Christ’s saving: Seek ye therefore first the Kingdom of God and His justice: and all these things shall be added unto you.” (Matt. vi. 33). Subordinating the visible to the invisible, and using the leverage of the great spiritual force of personal industry, these men showed that Christ’s teaching is not uneconomic. They ploughed the rock until it bore; they converted, as at Melleray, waste lands into model farms; they trained, as at Artaine, thousands for productive trades; they cultivated vineyards that were the envy of secular governments. Is it not a fact that the great danger these men who worked with their own hands, as did St. Paul in his day, who tried Christianity unlike those who speak of its failure before trying it, had to guard against, was not destitution, not that they might be abandoned by a loving Providence, but rather lest they might suffer from a supply of God’s earthly gifts, packed down, pressed together, and overflowing, so that in the medieval days before work-houses and pauperism it was a custom with the monasteries to distribute their goods to the indigent and to regard their surplus wealth as the patrimony of the poor.

V.WHAT CHRIST’S BROTHERHOOD WOULD EFFECT IN LABOUR The monasteries show the value of personal industry as a social force if used in a Christian and brotherly way. For it is not the capitalist alone who is bound to treat his neighbour as a brother; the workman, too, should treat the employer as a brother in Christ, as a representative, no matter how unworthy, of our elder Brother, Christ. St. Paul addresses workmen: “Not with eye-service as men-pleasers but in singleness of heart; whatsoever ye do, work heartily as unto the Lord and not unto man.” (Coloss. iii, 22). Christian brotherhood thus not only strikes at the modern evil of a godless, selfish, rapacious profiteering, but at an equally great economic sickness of our day,ca’canny; the seeking of a maximum of pay for a minimum of work, as if taking money for absence of service were not as much stealing as picking a man’s pockets. Adam Bede was surely right when he said that “scamped work of any kind is a moral abomination.” “Good carpentry,” he says, “is God’s will..” . . . The Bible says as God put His sperrit into the workman as built the tabernacle, to make him do all the carved work and things as wanted a nice hand. And this is my way o’ looking at it; there’s the sperrito’ God in all things and all times-week days as well as Sunday-and in the great works and inventions, and in the figuring and the mechanics.” There is much practical theology in Adam Bede’s further saying that if a man builds an oven for his wife to save her from going to the bake-house, or works at his bit of a garden and makes two potatoes grow instead of one, he is near to God. For in all this, it may be added, the worker is imitating the Maker of the world, the Divine Carpenter of Nazareth.

If the Christ-ideal were introduced in greater measure, it would transform and elevate industry. The worker for Christ does excellent, often beautiful work. Working for eternity, he achieves immortality. Would Michael Angelo have wrought so brilliantly if his labour had not been inspired by the Christian ideal? Is it not because they were men living by the Christian vision that the guild-masters and apprentices made with their hands, doors and gates that are still things of beauty? Is it not because these were the Ages of Faith that they transmitted to us cathedrals that are still objects of pilgrimage to the unbeliever as well as the believer? Whereas most of the modern work calls forth the denunciations of Ruskin; it is such a far cry from the beautiful buildings of the so-called Dark Ages to the cement structures and corrugated iron roofs of our proud Industrial Age.

Ireland is another witness of the fact that the Christ-ideal is the ally of workmanship of supreme excellence. When she was most renowned for Christianity, she was, also, most famed for her handwork. In paper, in stone, in bronze, in gold, she wrought for immortality. In other countries, copies, if so they may be called, of her varied metal work and her subtle manuscript illumination, are carefully preserved in Art Museums. And what was the inmost secret of this splendid and luxuriant craft? A clue is found in the fact that these Irish workers, the Brothers of the old monasteries, were as careful with the inside and the concealed under portions of their metal work as with the outside. They did not make clean merely the outside of the cup. Truly they worked not for man but for Christ; and when they thought that obscurity had come upon them in their remote retreats, it was really immortality.

VI. CO-OPERATION IN BROTHERHOOD

The best results can be obtained only when Christ’s brotherhood has united the various classes, employers and workmen. The Christian spirit favours co-operation more than competition. Its very essence is altruism. In paradoxes that whipped flagging attention Christ expressed this spirit: “If a man will contend with thee in judgment and take away thy coat, let go thy cloak also unto him. And whosoever will force thee one mile, go with him other two.” (Matt., v. 39–41). As against that Christian ideal the pagan one is war, although curiously enough Christianity has been blamed for the hatred amongst men. In our own day this co-operative spirit of Christ rather than the competitive, conflicting pagan spirit is much needed. For war, open or disguised, is the impulse of the natural man. Not only war among nations, but war between classes, war between Capital and Labour; the symbolism of war in play, in cards with fighting kings and queens and knaves, and in chess with fighting knights and even bishops; war even in innocent children’s fairy tales, with combative dragons and killed giants; war in scientific theories, one of the scientific leaders explaining in quite pagan fashion life as a war for existence; war in economic theory between supply and demand and so-called ruthless economic forces, war waged under the heartless warcry, “Business is Business”; everywhere and in all things the nightmare of war clings to this earth. And the only antidote for it all was brought by a Gentle Visitant from the Skies who told men not to resist evil, but to conquer evil with good. The ordeal by fire is antiquated; the ordeal by the gun should also be obsolete in Christian countries. Duelling between individuals has been stamped out by Christianity; duelling between nations and classes, the irrational and barbaric settling of an intellectual dispute by brute force, is with us still. We have courts to settle petty disputes between individuals, but there are no Conciliation Boards functioning to compose the more important conflicts between classes which with great human suffering dislocate the trade of a nation.*

But if there is to be co-operation rather than conflict, let it be genuine, not the sham co-operation sometimes found where the so-called co-operators shirk the work and hand over their business entirely to a manager who often mismanages. It is desirable that, as far as circumstances permit, there should be a growth in the true spirit of co-operation, from profit-sharing to full partnership. Men will go through responsibility rather than through a mere wage, which implies an imperfect status, rise to the full stature of human dignity ; and then, as in the case of the liberation of the Irish tenants in the past, workers will feel that they are not working for others like a mitigated caste of serfs; they will not be tempted to ca’canny, but will produce a better quality and a greater quantity of work.

The spirit of Christ’s brotherhood and co -operation will also stimulate men to found associations for the relief of social ills. The need is different from that of the past. Today men are going to the roots of social distress ; they are inquiring into causes ; they are trying to remove these causes rather than mere symptoms ; and it is all the better that this should be so. In the past the Church, as a rule, merely relieved distress ; in our day what is most needed is preventive work. Social hygiene is even more promising than social medicine. To meet this special need of our time, associations have been formed with much success in many European countries; the Volksbund in Germany, the Volksverein in Austria, Action Populaire in France, the Catholic Social Guild in England. These did not begin in any pretentious way; the Action Populaire in France began in a little room in a street in Rheims, imitating the social organization (of the Sisters of Charity) started by St. Vincent de Paul which he playfully compared to a snowball. These really Christian agencies came not in pomp, but rather made use of small initial outfits; the same as was done by the Founder of Christianity.

Of course those to whom everything new is rash, and those who pride themselves on their practical sense, will

* In Germany a priest, Rev. Dr. Brauns, Minister of Labour, has developed a system of compulsory settlements of industrial disputes in their first stages, thus averting thousands of lock-outs and strikes during recent years.-Irish Independent, March 16, 1926. regard all this talk about brotherhood and Christian co-operation and associations for social help as beautiful in theory, a fine flowering of idealism, but powerless to change society or to alter the money-market and the ruthless laws of supply and demand. Let these hard-headed men, who do not realize that without vision a nation perishes, consider what the Church has done in the past. Let them consider how hospitals and orphanages, unknown in paganism, were the gift of Christianity as early as the days of Constantine; how Brotherhoods, efficient cells within the general body of the Brotherhood of Christ, took charge of them and made them a success, such as the Brotherhood of the Holy Ghost in the twelfth century, the Knights of St. John and the Knights Hospitallers. Let them recall the erection of Leper Houses by the military order of St. Lazarus in the twelfth century to treat that form of leprosy brought back from the East by the Crusaders. Let them remember the Alexian Brotherhood founded for the charitable work of burial of the dead. Let them call to mind the Congregation of Raymond of Pennafort bound by vow for the ransoming of captives. And passing from pure relief work, let them think of the eminently social work of the Bridge-building Brotherhood, founded for the making of bridges and roads, the erection of inns for travellers, and the doing of police work in the protecting of wayfarers and merchants against the old pest of highwaymen. Let those who are sceptical of the Church’s creative work also recall a successful experiment in social-minded Banking; nay, even, if the terms are compatible, charitable banking; let them consider the Banks, or Montes Pietatis, established by the Franciscans and others for the protection of the poor against Jewish usurers and for the giving of loans for a small sum to defray risk and the cost of maintenance. And when the practical men who are sceptical of the value of associations for Christian brotherhood have considered all these flowerings of the activity of love, let them not deny that the Church has the creative power to meet every social need, that her charity creates its own channels of beneficence; let these men of little faith be at least silent in the presence of facts which place Christianity on a pedestal far exalted above any other philanthropic agency, a pedestal which is unique because it is Divine.

An association acting in the spirit of Christ’s brother hood has not to beat the air in the social world, or grope around for something on which to upend its enthusiasm. It can have a definite social platform; there is no need to lay itself open to the charge made against some Christian reform programmes that they are abstract, vague, and innocuous. Its aim would be to replace the purely economic pagan standards of competition and class strife. Economic science is, indeed, needed; a science which would help to thoroughly systematize, co-ordinate, and adjust social agencies. Greater and better organized production is needed. But production can be wasted, and science misdirected. A head is, indeed, needed in the industrial world, but a heart is also required. What is wanted in business is not stocktaking alone, but a searching of conscience also-a greater infusion of Christianity.

All things have to be Christianized. Not only should there be a wage worthy of Christian life, but there should be proper housing. The worker should, after labouring in a factory containing plenty of God’s free light and air, return, not to a hovel, but to a home worthy of one made to the Divine image. Above all, sufficient time has to be given to the working classes for education not merely in material, but in the higher things.* For material goods are not in themselves wealth, or well-being, but the means thereto; matter is for the spirit. Christian education will help to avoid the futile extreme of over-confidence in material wealth, for, if we could give tomorrow a specific that would at once heal economic ills, the world would still be unsatisfied at heart; it would still suffer from the indestructible inequalities of brains and character, of heredity and environment; it would still have sickness and sin, accidents and death. A fuller Christian light will, also, show up the other extreme of inhuman conditions of destitution. It will help towards just life-values by reminding us that Christ gives His active sympathy to those who are failures from the worldly stand-point; He gives His beatitudes to those brothers of ours and His whom the world in its own crude but vivid language brands as “down and out”-the poor, the meek, the persecuted, and those who mourn.

*Much has been done in this direction in other countries by the giving of inexpensive concerts, really artistic and more elevating than cinemas as usually conducted. Art is the ally of religion, developing man’s higher self.

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Christ’s Ministry In Galilee

WALTER FARRELL, O.P

INDEX

GOD CAME to teach men truth and to free them from sin; so He came to the places where truth was threatened and sin flourished. He elbowed His way into the crowded market-place, walked the dusty roads, thundered against the violation of the Temple at the very height of a feast. He did not sit back, content with His perfection and graciously stooping to forgive any sinners who might come to Him. He went out on the highways and byways seeking the sinners, pursuing them like the Hound of Heaven He was, eagerly, anxiously, relentlessly.

He came that through Him we might have easy access to God. We needed His help, for it is not an easy thing to go to God, particularly when we are weighed down with sin; even though we know there is no place else to go, we still have our human pride and our human fear. The enemies of Christ unwittingly made clear to the sinners of all future ages what confidence and courage His familiar life with men had poured into the human hearts of His time by accusing Him of surrounding Himself with sinners and publicans. Sinners ever since have laughed with joy to learn that the men who had the most reason for terror were precisely the ones who came to the feet of the Son of God.

Of course they came to Christ; He had made Himself one with men. He did not embrace the rigid fasting and penance of John the Baptist, for He did not wish to tower above men, striking terror into their hearts; rather He came down among men that they might more easily walk into His divine heart. He gave a perfect example in the absolutely necessary things and among these rigid abstinence from food and drink is not included. Abstinence is not an end itself but a means by which men might attain to control and continence; the sinless Christ had no need of this means, so He lived as other men, eating and drinking.

All through His life, Christ felt the privations and tasted the joys of poverty. On His own testimony, He was hungry, thirsty, and without a place whereon to lay His head. Nor was this a condemnation of riches. It was no secret in Christ’s time that riches can be an occasion of pride and offer opportunities for sins that are not open to the poor man; but then neither were the men of that time ignorant of the fact that poverty can be no less an occasion of sin, indeed, an occasion of all those sins a man will commit to seize the riches upon which his heart is set. It is neither riches nor poverty that count; but the poverty of spirit which is a casting aside of the trinkets of the world in the realization of how little they contribute to the perfection of man’s life.

Men do not need riches for human living; they simply cannot get along without fellowship and law. It is small wonder that Christ insisted so strongly on these two. He came to perfect the imperfect law, yet His observance of that imperfect one was most exact; He came to liberate men from the burdens of the Old Law, but first He carried the burden Himself. None of His contemporaries could accuse Him of sin. He was no law breaker; for He would not have us miss the fact that the fruits of sin are degradation, subjection, and tyranny, not the liberty and perfection He came to give us. Even His indignant declaration that the Son of man was Lord of the Sabbath was not a rejection of law but a condemnation of misinterpretation and of a vicious perversion of law. Clearly the law of the Sabbath was not meant to forbid divine works; it did not prohibit the works necessary for life, even for corporal life; above all, it did not prohibit what pertains to divine praise and worship.

Now and then, the commands of the law seem unbearably heavy. If our human nature does not point this out to us, there is an angelic nature always ready to whisper it to us; for our fight for perfection is not only against our own nature, but against the princes, the powers, the dominations of the angelic host who lost their own battle long ago. The abstract assurance of divine help against these vastly superior forces is a grand comfort; in the actual heat of the battle, it is a more solidly comforting thing to our human hearts to have before our eyes the concrete story of divinity’s own strategies against satanic cunning.

The temptation of Christ was just anothe r of the devil’s bad mistakes. He had to guess; and he guessed wrong. Not even an angelic intelligence could pierce through to the divinity of Christ, for that is something to be believed, not seen; the devil could see the sinless life of Christ and suspect the mystery, then remember the infant helplessness of Christ and doubt that God could make Himself so lowly. He could not believe, for belief flows only from a good will. Up to the last minutes of Christ’s life, then, the devil was on tenterhooks about this strange Man; was He really God, or was He merely man?

It was fortunate for us that he made the mistake of trying to find the answer to that question. At least, his mistake protects us from foolish pride or smug security in our own sanctity. For sanctity is no guarantee against temptation; it is an invitation to it. The devil hates saints, they approach so closely to God; and, with the stupid stubbornness that has marked all of his career, he continues to batter his head against the divinely protected wall again and again. Really, sanctity and good works constitute a kind of diabolic desert where there is neither shade nor rest for the evil one. Indeed, sanctity is a desert place in another sense, for the corridors of sanctity are seldom crowded and man always faces his greatest dangers alone; so it was that Christ underwent His temptation when He was alone in a desert place. It was His invariable custom to face first the hardest of the things He demanded from us.

He went at that difficult task in a fashion that leaves no doubt in our minds as to the method we must pursue. There is no better preparation for future temptations than present fasting and penance. We know very well that there is no time in our lives when we can depend upon quiet security, rest on our arms idly waiting for the next fight to come up; surely we cannot take any chances on the grounds that we have worn down our strength with laborious good works. It was to a tired and hungry Christ, tired and hungry from fasting and penance, that the devil came. Whatever the cause of the fatigue, it is just at that time, with our body protesting a bit, that the devil is most likely to make his attack; he was never one to overlook so powerful an ally as our sense appetite.

His diabolic strategy in the temptation of Our Lord is worth noting well. Since temptation must always come from the outside as far as our soul is concerned, it must be by way of a suggestion. Being what we are, suggestion has no chance for infiltration except along a path already made smooth for the journeys of our heart. The devil does not shock a saint into alertness by suggesting great crimes; he starts off with little, almost inoffensive things to which even the heart of a saint would make only a mild protest. So it was with the temptation of Adam; so also with the temptation of Christ. These two heads of the race could not be grossly attacked; they were to be subtly fooled. To our first parents, the devil made an intellectual appeal, a suggestion to that element of curiosity in all of us, asking: “Why did God forbid this particular fruit?” With that wedge securely in, he became bolder, appealing to pride and vainglory with a promise that their eyes would be opened; it was only when definite progress seemed to have been made that the full horror of the temptation was made plain in his invitation to the extreme pride of rebellion-they should become like gods.

When the devil approached Christ, he used practically the same strategy -there is, after all, very little room for originality in the line of sin and temptation; he was perhaps a little more subtle with Christ, paying Him the same dubious compliment a bandit pays his victim in approaching him with extreme caution. He tempted Christ first with what even the most spiritual of men desire, the food necessary to sustain the body: “If thou be the Son of God, command that these stones be made bread.” From there, he went on to that to which even spiritual men are too often victim, ostentation and vainglory: “If thou be the Son of God, cast thyself down . . .” (from the temple). With inevitable grossness, he advanced a temptation that appealed not to spiritual but to carnal men, the appeal of the riches and the glory of the world, going even so far as contempt of God: “All these will I give thee, if falling down thou wilt adore me.”

The first thrust was not successful. Wisdom in the tempter would seem to indicate a complete change of attack, a search for some even subtler approach. But the devil is not wise, which is one of the reasons why he is a devil; the planned attack had to go forward, in spite of the failure of the first necessary manoeuvre, stupidly becoming clumsier at every step. It is no sin to trust in God, quite the contrary; but to plunge off a great height in deliberate temptation of God, demanding a miraculous rescue, that is a different matter. To desire riches and the honours of the world is not necessarily wrong; but to be willing to abandon God and adore the devil to attain those ends, there is no excuse for that. Christ was quite patient with the first two temptations, for, after all., He had come to conquer the devil by justice not by overwhelming divine power; at the third temptation, He lost all patience. He did more than reject the temptation, He dismissed the devil with a brusqueness that must have been gall to so proud a spirit. This was temptation not to be tolerated for an instant; for it was a direct attack, not on the things of men, but on God Himself.

That outburst of divine indignation sent the devil slinking away, still mystified by the God-man. When he had gone the angels came and ministered to their Master. We shall read once more of an angel ministering to a tired Christ; then it will be on the edge of His passion, as here He was on the threshold of His public life. Each was a beginning; and it is at just these moments that comfort is needed, for beginnings, particularly beginnings of divine things, are hard. Since then, it is not an angel but the Master Himself who brings comfort to the hearts of men courageous enough to begin.

From the desert, Christ returned to the cities of men and set off on His career of bearer of divine truth to men. Much later, this part of His life would be summed up with a simplicity whose beauty forbids adornment: He had done all things well. He spoke with the appeal and persuasiveness of an orator reading the hearts of his audience as plainly as the page of an open book; He denounced evil with the thundering authority of a supreme legislator; He confirmed His doctrine by miracles, even more by the calm, persistent, quiet sinlessness of His life. All this was but the vehicle of His message. The doctrine itself surpassed anything that teachers of men have ever conceived; and it answered the deepest demands of the hearts and minds of men.

Yet, looked at objectively, the actual proposal of this doctrine seems to have been miserably limited. It was strictly held within the narrow limits of Palestine and, even there, was restricted to Christ’s own people, the Jews. Why did not Our Lord preach to all men? How could He expect the same results from the lesser teachers to whom He commissioned this world-wide preaching? The point is that the lesser teachers actually achieved greater results, thereby showing more plainly the power behind that teaching.

Christ’s restriction of His preaching to the chosen people was part of that orderly procedure so perfectly proper to God’s action. The promises of a redeemer and a messias had been made to the Jews, not to the Gentiles; the Jews, then, should receive the fulfillment of these promises. They were the chosen people, they had had generations of preparation; they should be given the first chance to welcome the Messias. . . .

He came to the Jews in fulfillment of divine promises, in the name of God’s lov e of the race. His love was the strong love of God, a love great enough to be terribly severe. By their malice, the leaders of this chosen people were impeding the salvation of the whole race; they were rejecting the doctrine of Christ which alone held out hope of salvation; their vices were corrupting the life of the people. This was not the time for a lover of the people and a teacher of truth to tread gently lest he hurt the feelings of some who were considered great among men. Of course Christ cried out against them, sparing them nothing; yet there was the full vigour of divine love in that violence, a love that embraced the leaders perhaps even more strongly than the people who followed them. . . .

When in the last days of His life, Christ was called t o account, He could say with complete truth: “I have spoken nothing in secret.” He had not come to hide divine truth but to manifest it; He was not a miserly Master huddling over His knowledge in dark corners, gloating over His exclusive possession of it, afraid to share it lest He lose His mastery. The things He had to say needed nothing of the garments of sly ambiguity which hide the ugliness of the obscene and allow it to slip furtively into the souls of men. Christ taught publicly: to crowds in the temple, on the sea shore, in desert places, on the high road. To the little group of apostles and disciples, He talked incessantly. He let slip no opportunity to publish His truth. Some things He spoke to the multitudes in parables, giving them the milk of children because they were not capable of the meat of men; clearly, it was better for them to have this than nothing at all. Even these parables were explained in detail to the apostles to whom it was given to know the secrets of the kingdom of God that they might instruct the children of men.

Many years after, closing his own attempt to put the teachings and deeds of Christ in the prison of written words, St. John admitted the hopelessness of it: “There are also many other things which Jesus did, which if they were written every one, the world itself, I think, would not be able to contain the books that should be written.” The world could not contain the books, only heaven can; it is quite impossible to contain the sublimity of the teachings of divine wisdom within the narrow confines of words. Christ Himself wrote no words beyond those few He scrawled in the sand to scatter the accusers of the adulteress; how significant that it should have been sand in which He wrote; He did His real writing on the hearts of men and thus forever scotched the petty error that His doctrine was not more than is contained in the written Scriptures. . . .

While the written word did not befit the dignity of Christ, His miracles certainly did. There was nothing confining about them; rather, they threw open the vast spaces of infinity to the human mind. Indeed, their whole service is to lift the mind of a man above the limits of nature by bringing him into sharp contact with the Author of nature. A miracle is a wave of divine power that lifts men up to the crest and lets them see the distant shore if only for an instant. More concretely, they are worked either to confirm the truth or to show the presence of God in the man who does the works of God. On both counts, Christ fittingly worked miracles.

The miracles of Christ, like all true miracles, were worked by divine power, for miracles are such precisely because they outstrip the powers of nature. It is true that Christ reached out and touched the leper to cleanse him, it was His human voice that awoke Lazarus, Magdalen knew from His loving glance long before He spoke that her sins were forgiven; but the hand, the voice, the eye ,were merely instruments of divinity, channels which carried the power of God. Christ, even as an Infant in the manger, had both the divine power and the human instrumentality of that power, for He was both God and Man. It is, however, an extravagance of unbridled imagination to picture the childhood and adolescence of Christ as a gloriously triumphant journey leaving an uninterrupted wake of miracles behind it. If there was bread in the house at Nazareth, it was because it had been earned by Joseph and his Son: if the clothes were clean, it was because Mary had washed them.

There was no point in miracles until some truth was to be confirmed; until it was time to manifest the divinity of Christ to all men. The first miracle, then, is that recorded as such by St. John, the changing of water into wine at the marriage feast of Cana. It is comforting to remember that thisfirst miracle was worked at Our Mother’s request, that it was for such a human end as saving the host of Christ from embarrassment, that it was a benediction of such a human thing as marriage. I have often wondered what the bridegroom said to the master of the feast in answer to his complaint about saving the better wine until the last. Probably he just smiled and shrugged his shoulders, hoping Christ would not give him away.

From this beginning to the very end, all the miracles of Christ had the common purpose of confirming the truth of divinity, of manifesting to men the presence of God among them. All were, of course, works transcending natural powers; all were done in Christ’s own name. Again and again, He insisted that it was in confirmation of His claim to divinity that He worked miracles; if what He said were not true, then God Himself would have collaborated in a gigantic lie.

Certainly, the scope of the miracles of Christ was a plainly written documentation of His mastery over all the universe, that is of His divinity. Angelic beings bowed to His command in every expulsion of the demons from their possessed victims; the heavenly bodies offered their homage and submission when they covered their face against the spectacle of the death of God. Most constantly, however, His miracles revolved around His fellow-men; of these, the outstanding ones are the healing miracles, the miracles whose final goal was not the salvation of the body but the soul. After all, He had come to save men, to enlighten their minds, and relieve them of the burden of sin. That no least doubt of His divinity might remain in the minds of men of good will, all irrational creation gave him unquestioning obedience.

These were proud days in the lives of the apostles. The simple fishermen of Galilee were living familiarly with the Lord of the universe. Before their eyes, Nature tumbled over itself in its eagerness to obey Him; the eyes of faith showed them the greater miracles of grace within the souls of men; they shared His confidence, listened to His patient reiteration of divine truth, even partook of something of His infinite power on that mission where they were told to heal the sick, raise the dead, give freely of what they had freely received.

They returned from that journey bubbling over with enthusiasm, swelled a little with consciousness of self, to be met with the laconic word of the Master: “Let us go apart and rest awhile.” That is, let us stop for a minute to think, to remember, to pray; after all, you are the same men you were before, not God. As the days of His life grew shorter, His warnings of His passion and death grew more plain; to the apostles, they were steadily unwelcome, even a little frightening, shaking that confidence and sense of power that had so recently come to them.

They had some reason for fright. He was starting them off on a long journey over a road that was rough and steep. His divine wisdom could easily understand that the comforting memories of three intimate years with Him would hardly be enough for them. In the kindness of His heart, He gave them concrete, ocular evidence of some of the joys that awaited them at the end of the journey. For an instant, there on Tabor, Christ unveiled to His beloved three the glory of His human soul shining through His human body.

Understand, this transfiguration was a revelation of human glory. It was essentially the same brilliance that is a permanent quality of the bodies of the saints after the resurrection, the brilliance that would have been constantly shining forth from the body of Christ had not a constant miracle been worked to prevent what would have overwhelmed men as it did the apostles on Tabor. This glimpse of glory completed the dim sketch of the glory of the human body after the resurrection. Other vague details had been drawn when Christ passed through the closed womb of the Virgin, when He walked upon the water, when He passed unharmed through the hands of the Jews who attempted to apprehend Him before His hour had come.

This apex of human glory was not only for the men who were to come after Christ, but for those faithful ones who had preceded Him. Fittingly, then, Moses and Elias were present at that preview of the glory, in the name of all who had gone before; Peter, James and John, in the name of all who were to come after. Those five witnesses were really a mighty company; the Law and the Prophets, the Head of the Church, the first of the apostolic martyrs, the most beloved of the disciples and greatest of the evangelists, the Sons of Thunder, and the Rock upon which Christ was to build His Church.

The transfiguration of Christ was really a revelation of the full significance of our position as adopted sons of God. By that adoption, we are made conformable to the natural Son of God, perfectly now by grace with its glory for the soul, perfectly in heaven with its glory for the body and soul. We enter the life of grace by baptism, the life of heaven by the light of glory. As at the baptism of Christ, so here again at His transfiguration, there is the divine witness to His natural Sonship and a divine promise as to our adopted sonship. As at the baptism the Son was baptised, and the Holy Ghost appeared hovering over Him in the form of a dove, while the Father’s voice was heard approving; so here on Tabor, the Son was glorified, the Father testified, and the Holy Ghost hovered over the scene in a luminous cloud.

They came down from the mountain a little shaken to set about the business of suffering and dying. But now, what a different task it was, not only for them but for all men; for here was the goal that explained all the hardships and difficulties of the journey-the vision of glory within a man now, shining through his very body in heaven. Here was the secret of the glory of man: a human sharing in the divine life.

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Christian Doctrine Drills

INDEX

DRILL 1 -THE COMMANDMENTS OF GOD

1. I am the Lord thy God; thou shalt not have strange gods before Me.

2. Thou shalt not take the name of the Lord thy God in vain.

3. Remember that thou keep holy the Sabbath day.

4. Honor thy father and thy mother.

5. Thou shalt not kill.

6. Thou shalt not commit adultery.

7. Thou shalt not steal.

8. Thou shalt not bear false witness against thy neighbor.

9. Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor’s wife.

10. Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor’s goods.

Drill 2 -Precepts of the Church

1. To hear Mass on Sundays and Holy-days of obligation.

2. To fast and abstain on the days appointed.

3. To confess our sins at least once a year.

4. To receive the Holy Eucharist during the Easter-time.

5. To contribute to the support of our pastors.

6. Not to marry persons who are not Catholics, or who are related to us within the third degree of kindred, nor privately without witness, nor to solemnize marriage at forbidden times.

Drill 3 -Fast Days

1. The forty days of Lent, that is every day from Ash Wednesday to Easter Sunday, Sundays excepted.

2. The Ember days, that is the Wednesday, Friday, and Saturday of the four Ember weeks.

3. The vigils of Pentecost and Christmas.

Drill 4 -Ember Days

1. Wednesday, Friday and Saturday after the third Sunday in Advent.

2. Wednesday, Friday and Saturday after the first Sunday in Lent.

3. Wednesday, Friday and Saturday after Pentecost.

4. Wednesday, Friday and Saturday after September fourteenth.

Drill 5-Rogation Days

Three days immediately preceding Ascension Thursday.

Drill 6 -Days of Abstinence

1. Complete: All Fridays, Ash Wednesday, the Vigils of Immaculate Conception and Christmas.

2. Partial: (Meat only ONCE a day at the principal meal). a. Wednesday and Saturday of the Ember weeks. b. Holy Saturday. c. Vigil of Pentecost.

Drill 7-Holy Days of Obligation in Australia

1. Christmas December 25

2. Circumcision January 1

3. Ascension . . . Forty days after Easter

4. Assumption August 15

5. All Saints’ Day November 1

THE MASS

Drill 8-What Is the Mass?

The Mass is the perpetual sacrifice of the new law in which Christ offers Himself in an unbloody manner as He once offered Himself in a bloody manner on the cross.

Drill 9 -Principal Parts

1. Offertory.

2. Consecration.

3. Communion.

Drill 10-The Ends for Which the Sacrifice of the Mass is Offered

1. A-doration.

2. C-ontrition.

3. T-hanksgiving.

4. S-upplication.

Drill 11 -Colors and Occasions

1. White :-On the feast of Our Lord, of the Blessed Virgin, of the angels, and of the saints that were not martyrs.

2. Red:-On the feasts of Pentecost of the Finding and Exaltation of the Cross and of the Apostles and Martyrs.

3. Purple :-In Advent and Lent, on Vigils and Ember days.

4. Green :-On Sundays and ordinary days of the year.

5. Black:-On Good Friday and in Masses of the dead.

6. Rose : Gaudete Sunday and Laetare Sunday.

7. Gold :-May be used as a substitute for white, red or green.

Drill 12-Sacred Vessels

1. Chalice 2. Ciborium 3. Monstrance 4. Luna 5. Pyx 6. Paten

Drill 13-Vestments Worn at Mass

1. Amice 2. Alb 3. Cincture 4. Maniple 5. Stole 6. Chasuble

Drill 14 -Forms of Mass

1. Low Mass 2. High Mass 3. Requiem Mass 4. Solemn High Mass 5. Pontifical Mass 6. Nuptial Mass

7. Anniversary Mass 8. Votive Mass-for various intentions

Drill 15 -What Is an Altar?

An altar is a table of stone or wood having an altar stone containing relics of martyrs, on which the priest offers up the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass.

Drill 16-What Is the Ciborium?

The ciborium is the vessel in which the Hosts destined for Communion of the faithful are preserved.

Drill 17-What Are the Chalice Linens?

The chalice linens properly so called are : The corporal, the pall, and the purificator.

Drill 18 -What Is the Tabernacle?

The tabernacle is a, kind of chest made of wood, marble, or metal, having a door with lock and key, and containing the Sacred Species.

Drill 19-What Is Meant by Liturgical Vessels? This is a name given to the vessels used in divine worship.

Drill 20-What Is the Chalice?

The chalice is the cup used to hold the wine for consecration.

Drill 21-What Is the Paten?

The paten is a small round and slightly concaved dish, which covers the mouth of the chalice.

BENEDICTION

Drill 22-Vestments Worn at Benediction

1. Surplice 2. Stole 3. Cope 4. Benediction Veil

Drill 23 -What Is the Ostensorium?

The ostensorium, or monstrance, is the sacred vessel in which the Blessed Sacrament is exposed for the adoration of the faithful.

Drill 24-Two Kinds of Genuflection 1. Simple 2. Profound

THE SACRAMENTS

Drill 25-Three Things Necessary to Constitute a Sacrament 1. An outward sign.

2. An inward grace.

3. The institution by Christ.

Drill 26-Seven Sacraments

Baptism Extreme Unction Confirmation Holy Orders Holy Eucharist Matrimony Penance

Drill 27 -Matter and Form of the Sacraments

Baptism :-Matter is water. Form: “I baptize thee in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost.” Confirmation :-The matter is Holy Chrism and the form is: “I sign thee with the sign of the cross and I confirm thee with the chrism of salvation in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost.”

Holy Eucharist :-Matter is wheaten bread and grape wine. Form is: “This is my body; this is my blood.” Penance:-The matter is the confession of sin and the request for pardon. The form is: “I forgive thee thy sins.” Extreme Unction :-The matter is the anointing of the senses with oil. The form is the prayer pronounced for the pardon of sins.

Holy Orders:-The matter is the imposition of the hands of the Bishop. The form is the prayer said in the Preface. Matrimony:-The contract itself is the Sacrament, the contracting parties are its ministers, their own persons are the matter affected, and the form is the expression of their mutual consent.

Drill 28 -Sacraments of the Living

Confirmation—Holy Eucharist—Matrimony—Holy Orders—Extreme Unction

Called “Sacraments of the Living,” pre-suppose the state of grace, as a condition for the licit reception.

Sacraments of the Dead

Baptism- Penance

Called “Sacraments of the Dead”- may be received by persons in the state of sin because the immediate object of these Sacraments is the conferring of grace on those in such a condition.

BAPTISM

Drill 29-Three Kinds of Baptism 1. Water 2. Desire 3. Blood

Drill 30-Give a Scriptural Proof of Baptism

“He that believeth and is baptized shall be saved.”-St. Mark XVI :16.

PENANCE

Drill 31-Perfect Contrition

(a) Contrition is perfect when it rises from a perfect love, that is, when we hate sin more than all evil, because it offends God, the Supreme Good.

Drill 31 -Imperfect Contrition

(b) Contrition is imperfect when it arises from imperfect love, that is, when we hate sin because by it we lose heaven, and deserve hell, or because sin is so hateful in itself.

Drill 32 -Five Things Necessary for a Good Confession

1. We must examine our conscience.

2. We must have sorrow for our sins.

3. We must make a firm resolution never to offend God.

4. We must confess our sins to the priest.

5. We must accept the penance which the priest gives us.

SIN

Drill 33-Classes of Sin Original and Actual

Drill 34-Two Kinds of Actual Sin 1. Mortal 2. Venial

Drill 35 -Three Things That Constitute a Mortal Sin

1. Grievous matter

2. Sufficient reflection

3. Full consent of the will

Drill 36 -Four Ways of Committing Sin

1. Thought

2. Word

3. Deed

4. Omission

Drill 37

Seven Capital Sins 1. Pride

2. Covetousness 3. Lust

4. Anger

5. Gluttony

6. Envy

7. Sloth

Opposite Virtues

1. Humility

2. Liberality

3. Chastity

4. Meekness

5. Temperance 6. Brotherly Love 7. Diligence

Drill 38 -Sins Against the Holy Ghost

1. Presumption of God’s mercy.

2. Despair of God’s grace.

3. Impugning the known truth.

4. Envy at another’s spiritual good.

5. Obstinacy in sin.

6. Final Impenitence.

Drill 39 -Sins Crying to Heaven for Vengeance

1. Wilful murder.

2. Sodomy. Oppression of the poor, widows, and orphans.

3. Defrauding laborers of their wages.

Drill 40 -Nine Ways of Being Accessory to Another’s Sin

1. By counsel

2. By command

3. By consent

4. By provocation

5. By praise, and flattery

6. By concealment

7. By partaking

8. By silence

9. By defending ill done.

CONFIRMATION

Drill 41-Gifts of the Holy Ghost

1. Wisdom.

2. Understanding.

3. Counsel.

4. Fortitude.

5. Knowledge.

6. Piety.

7. Fear of the Lord.

Drill 42 -Fruits of the Holy Ghost

1. Charity.

2. Joy .

3. Peace.

4. Patience.

5. Longanimity.

6. Goodness.

7. Benignity.

8. Mildness.

9. Faith.

10. Modesty.

11. Continency.

12. Chastity.

HOLY EUCHARIST

Drill 43-Give a Proof of Holy Eucharist “This is My Body; this is My Blood.”

Drill 44 -The Effects of Holy Communion both as regards the soul and the body.

1. Unites us to God Himself and nourishes our soul with His divine life. 2. Increases sanctifying grace and all virtues in our soul.

3. Lessens our evil inclinations.

4. Pledges everlasting life.

5. Fits our bodies for a glorious resurrection.

6. Continues the sacrifice of the Cross in His Church.

Drill 45 -Spiritual Communion

O my dear Jesus, since I cannot now receive Thee sacramentally, come at least spiritually into my heart. Grant me the grace to be an apostle of Thy Sacred Heart. My Jesus mercy!

EXTREME UNCTION

Drill 46-Preparation of a Sick Room

1. A chair near the bed for the priest.

2. A small table covered with a clean white cloth. a. A crucifix on the center of the table. b. Two blessed candles. c. A glass of holy water. d. A glass of drinking water and a spoon. e. A linen cloth or a napkin as Communion cloth for the sick. f. A finger bowl with a little water in it for the priest’s fingers, and a small towel. g. A piece of cotton.

HOLY ORDERS

Drill 47-Minor Orders Porter

Reader

Exorcist Acolyte

Major Orders

Subdeacon. Deacon. Priest.

MATRIMONY

Drill 48-Forbidden Times

The forbidden times for solemnizing marriage are Advent and Lent.

FAITH

Drill 49-What Is Faith?

Faith is a divine virtue infused into our souls by which we firmly believe as infallibly true, whatever God has revealed and His Church teaches.

Drill 50-Name the Qualities of Our Faith 1. Universal 2. Firm 3. Constant. 4. Living.

Drill 51 -The Chief Mysteries of Our Religion

1. Unity.

2. Trinity.

3. Incarnation.

4. Death of Our Savior.

5. Resurrection.

THE CHURCH

Drill 52-Four Marks of the Church She is One, Holy, Catholic and Apostolic.

Drill 53-What Is a Parish Church?

A parish church is one that is served by a pastor or a rector.

Drill 54 -What Is a Cathedral?

A cathedral is a church that is the station of a bishop. Drill 55-What Is a Metropolitan Church?

A metropolitan church is one that is served by an archbishop.

Drill 56-Dignitaries of the Church Pope Bishops Priests

Drill 57-Truths of the Church

The truths of the Catholic Church are found in the Apostles’ Creed.

VIRTUES

Drill 58-Cardinal Virtues 1. Prudence.

2. Justice

3. Temperance.

4. Fortitude.

Drill 59-Theological Virtues 1. Faith 2. Hope 3. Charity

Drill 60 -Spiritual Works of Mercy

1. To admonish the sinner.

2. To instruct the ignorant.

3. To counsel the doubtful.

4. To comfort the sorrowful.

5. To bear wrongs patiently.

6. To forgive injuries.

7. To pray for the living and the dead.

Drill 61 -Corporal Works of Mercy

1. To feed the hungry.

2. To give drink to the thirsty.

3. To clothe the naked.

4. To harbour the harbourless.

5. To ransom the captive.

6. To visit the sick.

7. To bury the dead.

Drill 62-Evangelical Counsels 1. Poverty. 2. Chastity. 3. Obedience.

Drill 63 -The Eight Beatitudes

1. Blessed are the poor in spirit; for theirs is the kingdom of Heaven.

2. Blessed are the meek; for they shall possess the land.

3. Blessed are they that mourn; for they shall be comforted.

4. Blessed are they that hunger and thirst after justice; for they shall be filled.

5. Blessed are the merciful; for they shall obtain mercy.

6. Blessed are the clean of heart; for they shall see God.

7. Blessed are the peacemakers; for they shall be called the children of God.

8. Blessed are they that suffer persecution for justice’ sake; for theirs is the kingdom of Heaven.

FEASTS OF THE CHURCH

Drill 64-Feasts Which Depend on Easter a. Easter occurs the first Sunday after the first full moon after the 21st of March. b. Ascension Thursday occurs forty days after Easter. c. Pentecost occurs ten days after Ascension Thursday. d. Trinity Sunday occurs the first Sunday after Pentecost. e. Corpus Christi occurs the Thursday after Trinity Sunday. f. The Feast of the Sacred Heart occurs the first Friday after the octave of Corpus Christi.

Drill 65 -Feasts of Our Lord

1. Christmas-December 25.

2. Circumcision-January 1.

3. Corpus Christi-The first Thursday after Trinity Sunday. (Not a Holy Day of Obligation in Australia.)

4. Easter-The first Sunday after the first full moon after March 21.

5. Ascension-Forty days after Easter.

Drill 66 -Threefold Birth of Christ

1. The eternal birth in the bosom of His Father.

2. The temporal birth in Bethlehem.

3. The daily birth of Jesus Christ on the Altar at Mass and at Communion.

Drill 67 -Great Feasts of the Blessed Virgin

1. Immaculate Conception-December 8.

2. Purification-February 2.

3. Annunciation-March 25.

4. Mediatrix of All Graces-May 31.

5. Visitation-July 2.

6. Assumption-August 15.

7. Immaculate Heart-August 22.

8. Maternity-October 11.

9. Presentation-November 21.

THE ROSARY

Drill 68-The Joyful Mysteries

1. The Annunciation.

2. The Visitation.

3. The Birth of Our Lord.

4. The Presentation.

5. The Finding of the Child Jesus in the Temple. Drill 69-The Sorrowful Mysteries 1. The Agony in the Garden. 2. The Scourging at the Pillar. 3. The Crowning of Thorns.

4. Carrying of the Cross.

5. Crucifixion.

Drill 70 -The Glorious Mysteries

1. The Resurrection.

2. The Ascension.

3. The Descent of the Holy Ghost.

4. The Assumption.

5. The Coronation.

THE HOLY BIBLE

Drill 71-Great Prophets

1. Isaias. 2. Jeremias. 3. Daniel. 4. Ezechiel.

Drill 72-Minor Prophets

1. Osee. 2. Amas. 3. Jonas. 4. Zacharias. 5. Joel. 6. Habacuc. 7. Abdias. 8. Micheas. 9. Nahum. 10. Sophonias. 11. Aggeus. 12. Malachias.

Drill 73 -The Books of the Old Testament

1. Twenty-one historical books.

2. Seven moral books.

3. Seventeen prophetical books.

Drill 74 -The Books of the New Testament

1. The four gospels written by St. Matthew, St. Mark. St. Luke, and St. John.

2. The Acts of the apostles.

3. Fourteen epistles of St. Paul and the epistles of the other apostles.

4. The Apocalypse, or Revelations of St. John.

Drill 75 -Types of Our Lord

1. Adam. 2. Noah. 3. Abraham. 4. Abel. 5. Jacob. 6. Isaac. 7. Joseph. 8. Moses. 9. David.

10. Jonas. 11. Melchisedech. 12. The Pascal Lamb. 13. The Brazen Serpent. 14. The Manna.

Drill 76-Types of Our Blessed Mother 1. Eve. 2. Ruth. 3. Esther. 4. Judith.

THE LITURGY

Drill 77-What Is the Sacred Liturgy?

The sacred liturgy is the public worship which our Redeemer, the Head of the Church, renders to the Heavenly Father, and which the society of Christ’s faithful renders to its Founder and through Him, to the Eternal Father. To put it briefly, it is the integral public worship of the Mystical Body of Jesus Christ, of its Head and of its members.

Drill 78 -The Principal Books of the Roman Liturgy

Among the principal books are the Missal, the Breviary, the Ritual, and the Martyrology. a. The Missal contains the prayers and ceremonies of the Mass. b. The Breviary contains the Divine Office which all those who are in sacred orders are obliged to recite every day in the name of the church. c. The Ritual contains the sacred rites to be observed in administering the sacraments and in other ecclesiastical functions. d. The Martyrology contains a list of saints whom the church commemorates from day to day.

MISCELLANEOUS

Drill 79-Name the Principal Attributes of God

God is eternal and unchangeable, omnipresent and omniscient, all wise, all powerful ; He is infinitely holy and just; infinitely good and merciful; infinitely true and faithful.

Drill 80 -The Apostles

Sts. Peter and Andrew,

Sts. James and John,

Sts. Philip and Bartholomew,

Sts. Thomas and Matthew,

Sts. James the Less and Thaddeus,

St. Simon Zelotes and Judas Iscariot, who was replaced by Matthias.

Drill 81 -Evangelists and Their Symbols St. Matthew Cherub

St. Mark Lion

St. Luke Ox

St. John Eagle

Drill 82 -Who Composed the Hail Mary?

1. The Angel Gabriel.

2. St. Elizabeth.

3. The Church.

Drill 83 -Choirs of Angels

1. Angels. 2. Archangels. 3. Principalities. 4. Dominations. 5. Powers. 6. Thrones. 7. Virtues.

8. Cherubim. 9. Seraphim.

Drill 84 -The Stations of the Cross

1. Jesus is condemned to death.

2. Jesus is made bear His cross.

3. Jesus falls the first time.

4. Jesus meets His afflicted Mother.

5. Simon of Cyrene helps Jesus to carry His cross.

6. Veronica wipes the face of Jesus.

7. Jesus falls the second time.

8. Jesus speaks to the women of Jerusalem.

9. Jesus falls the third time.

10. Jesus is stripped of His garment.

11. Jesus is nailed to the cross.

12. Jesus dies on the cross.

13. Jesus is taken down from the cross.

14. Jesus is placed in the sepulchre.

Drill 85 -Seven Words of Our Lord on the Cross

1. Father forgive them, for they know not what they do.

2. Mother, behold Thy son; son behold Thy mother.

3. I thirst.

4. This day thou shalt be with Me in Paradise.

5. My God, my God, why hast Thou forsaken me?

6. It is consummated.

7. Father, into Thy hands I commend My spirit.

Drill 86 -Promises of the Sacred Heart

1. I will give them all graces necessary for their state in life.

2. I will establish peace in their homes.

3. I will console them in all their difficulties.

4. I will be their refuge in life, and above all in death.

5. I will bless all their undertakings.

6. Sinners shall find in my heart the source and boundless ocean of mercy.

7. Tepid souls shall grow fervent.

8. Fervent souls shall rise to great perfection.

9. I will bless the house in which the picture of my Sacred Heart is honored and exposed.

10. I shall give to priests the power of touching the most hardened hearts.

11. Persons who propagate this devotion shall have their names written in my Heart never to be effaced therefrom.

12. I will grant the grace of final repentance to all those who shall communicate on the first Friday nine months consecutively. They shall not die in mortal sin, nor without having received the last Sacraments, for My Divine Heart will become their secure refuge at that last moment.

Drill 87 -Chief Sacramentals

1. The Sign of the Cross.

2. Holy Water.

3. Crucifix.

4. Holy Oil.

5. Palm.

6. Rosary.

7. Prayer Book.

Drill 88 -Indulgences Plenary and Partial. Drill 89-Properties of a Glorified Body

1. Lucidity. 2. Agility. 3. Immortality. 4. Impassibility. 5. Spirituality.

Drill 90-Four Last Things 1. Death. 2. Judgment. 3. Heaven. 4. Hell.

Drill 91 -Dedication of the Year January Holy Childhood

February Holy Family

March St. Joseph

April Holy Ghost

May Blessed Virgin

June Sacred Heart

July Precious Blood

August Blessed Sacrament September The Seven Dolours October The Holy Rosary November Souls in Purgatory December Immaculate Conception

Drill 92 -Dedication of the Week Sunday

Monday

Tuesday

Wednesday Thursday

Friday

Saturday

Holy Trinity

Souls in Purgatory Guardian Angel St. Joseph

Blessed Sacrament Precious Blood Blessed Virgin

Drill 93 -Names by Which Our Lord is Known

1. Our Saviour.

2. Our Redeemer.

3. Christ.

4. Our Lord.

5. The Second Person of the Blessed Trinity.

Drill 94—Names by Which Our Lady Is Known

1. Our Blessed Mother.

2. Mary.

3. Mother of God.

4. Mediatrix.

5. Co-Redemptress.

Drill 95 -Holy Oils

1. Oil of the Sick used for the Sacrament of Extreme Unction.

2. Two oils used at Baptism: The oil of Chrism and the oil of the Catachumens.

3. Chrism used at Confirmation, Ordination of a priest and the Consecration of a Bishop.

Drill 96 -Three Kinds of Grace

1. Sanctifying.

2. Actual.

3. Sacramental.

Drill 97 -Biblical references to the Seven Sacraments.

Baptism.

And Jesus coming, spoke to them, saying: “All power is given to Me in heaven and in earth. Go, therefore, teach ye all nations: baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost, teaching them to observe all things whatsoever I have commanded you : and behold I am with you all days, even to the consummation of the world. (Matt. 28:18–20.)

Confirmation.

Now when the Apostles, who were in Jerusalem, had heard that Samaria had received the word of God, they sent unto them Peter and John, who, when they were come, prayed for them, that they might receive the Holy Ghost, for He was not as yet come upon any of them; but they were only baptized in the name of the Lord Jesus. Then they laid their hands upon them, and they received the Holy Ghost. (Acts 8:14–17.)

Holy Orders.

And taking bread, He gave thanks and broke and gave to them, saying: “This is My Body, which is given for you. Do this for a commemoration of Me.” (Luke 22:19.)

Holy Eucharist.

And whilst they were at supper, Jesus took bread, and blessed and broke, and gave to His disciples, and said: “Take ye, and eat: This is My Body.”

And taking the chalice, He gave thanks, and gave to them saying: “Drink ye all of this: for this is My Blood of the New Testament which shall be shed for many unto remission of sins.’ (Matt. 26:26–28.)

Penance.

Jesus said to them: “Peace be to you. As the Father hath sent me, I also send you.

When He had said this, He breathed on them; and He said to them : “Receive ye the Holy Ghost. Whose sins you shall forgive, they are forgiven them and whose sins you shall retain, they are retained.” (John 20:21–23.)

Extreme Unction.

Is any man sick among you? Let him bring in the priests of the Church and let them pray for him, anointing him with oil in the name of the Lord. And the prayer of faith shall save the sick man : and the Lord shall raise him up, and if he be in sins, they shall be forgiven him. (James 5:14–15.)

Matrimony.

What therefore God hath joined together, let no man put asunder. (Matt. 19:6.)

Drill 98 -The Eucharistic Fast The new laws of fasting before Holy Communion were given by Pope Paul VI on November 21, 1964. “Priests and faithful, before Holy Mass or Holy Communion respectively, must abstain for one hour from solid foods and alcoholic beverages; and one hour from non-alcoholic beverages. Water does not break the fast.

“From now on, the fast, must be observed for the period of time indicated above, even by those who celebrate or receive Holy Communion at midnight or in the first hours of the day.

“The infirm, even if not bedridden, may take non-alcoholic beverages and that which is really and properly medicine, either in liquid or solid form, before Mass or Holy Communion without any time limit.

“We strongly exhort priests and faithful who are able to do so to observe the old and venerable form of the Eucharistic fast before Mass and Holy Communion.

All those who will make use of these concessions must compensate for the good received by becoming shining examples of a Christian life and principally with works of penance and charity.

PRAYER TO CHRIST THE KING

O Christ Jesus, I acknowledge Thee as King of the universe. All that was made was created by Thee; exercise all Thy rights over me.

I renew my baptismal vows, renouncing Satan, his pomps and his works, and I promise to lead a true Christian life.

Very particularly do I pledge myself to strive according to my means for the triumph of the rights of God and of His Church.

Divine Heart of Jesus, I offer Thee my poor works to obtain that all hearts may acknowledge Thy sacred Kingship and thus may the reign of peace be established throughout the entire world. Amen.

(Plenary indulgence once a day under the usual conditions)

NIHIL OBSTAT

Rt. Rev. Msgr. John A. McMahon

IMPRIMATUR

His Eminence, Albert Cardinal Meyer

********

Christian Unity In God’s Way

REV. J. A. CONNELLAN

INDEX

“Why are there still separations? Why are there still schisms?” Pope Pius XII

“Oh that this Holy Year could welcome also the great return to the one, true Church, awaited over the centuries of so many who, though believing in Jesus Christ, are for various reasons separated. . . .

“With good reason, men are anxious about the effrontery with which the united front of militant atheism advances. And the old question is now voiced aloud: “Why are there still separations? Why are there still schisms? When will all the forces of the spirit and of love be harmoniously united? . . .”

“If on other occasions an invitation to unity has been sent forth from this Apostolic See, on this occasion we repeat it more warmly and paternally. We feel that we are urged by the pleadings and prayers of numerous believers scattered over the whole earth who, after suffering tragic and painful events, turn their eyes towards this Apostolic See as toward an anchor of salvation for the whole world.”

-(Pope Pius XII at inauguration of Holy Year, 1950.)

* * *

CHRISTIAN UNITY IN GOD’S WAY

Protestant world conferences on the subject of Christian reunion held at Stockholm (1925), Lausanne (1927), Edinburgh (1937), and Amsterdam (1948) have expressed the growing realization amongst non-Catholic Christians of the urgent need for unity amongst all those who profess to be followers of Christ. The final statement drafted by the Committee at Edinburgh declared: “We humbly acknowledge our divisions are contrary to the will of Christ, and we pray God for unity.” And yet, all the conferences have achieved nothing of lasting value. Warring sects continue to multiply, all claiming to be Christian, all vigorously asserting that they teach what Christ taught, but contradicting one another on doctrines of fundamental importance and far-reaching consequences. During his recent visit to Australia, one of the Presidents of the World Council of Churches, Archbishop Fisher, Anglican Archbishop of Canterbury and head of the Church of England, declared his belief that there could not be reunion amongst Protestants at present.

Catholics believe that there can be no question at all of reunion of churches. The real Church of Christ has never been divided. Those who have broken away from union with Christ’s Vicar on earth, the Pope, have established religious organizations contrary to the will of Christ and ceased to belong to the true Catholic Church. Unity can be secured only in one way-God’s way-by entrance into that Society, the Catholic Church, which God Himself set up to bring men into union with Him.

GOD’S WAY

Christ, Who was God, expressed very clearly His intention and His will that there should be but one Church: “Other sheep I have that are not of this fold; them also I must bring and they shall hear My voice and there shall be one fold and one shepherd” (John 10: 16). He had come into the world that men might know the truth: “For this was I born and for that I came into the world, to give testimony to the truth” (John 18: 37). “I am the way, the truth and the life . . . he that follows Me, walks not in darkness.” . . .”I am the light of the world.” . . .”Come to Me all you that labour and are burdened and I will refresh you.” If He Who is God considered it so important that men should know the truth that He would become man in order to teach men, suffer and die an agonizing death for the sake of men and rise from the dead to convince men of His divine authority, then it must be of the utmost importance that there should be no confusion and no doubt about what that teaching is and where it is to be found today.

NO FREE-THINKING

Did Christ care very much what we believe? The very fact that He became man in order to teach answers clearly. But listen to His warning: “He that believes and is baptized shall be saved; he that believes not shall be condemned” (Mark 16: 16). He suffered the ignominy and agony of the death of the Cross rather than modify His teaching in the slightest degree to suit the prejudices of His enemies. He imposed the obligation on His Apostles of leaving home, of leaving all things, of exposing themselves to hatred, violence of every kind and certain death in order to carry on His work: “I send you,” He said, “as sheep amongst wolves.” . . “Go into the whole world and preach the Gospel to every creature.” They were given no liberty to teach one doctrine and reject another: “teach them to observe all things whatsoever I have commanded you” (Matt. 28: 20). He threatened with severest penalties those who refused to hear their teaching: “And whosoever shall not receive you, nor hear your words . . . shake off the dust from your feet. Amen, I say to you, it shall be more tolerable for the land of Sodom and Gomorrah in the day of judgement than for that city” (Matt. 10: 14).

PROVISION FOR ALL

The truths taught by Christ were intended not only for the people of His own age, butfor all men in all ages: “preach the gospel to every creature . . . go into the whole world.” Christ cared not only for the people of His own day, but for you and for me. In all ages, men would need to find the way, the truth and the life. Is it likely that, after going to so much trouble, enduring so many hardships and finally giving His life for the truth, He would ever again allow His teaching to become obscured or uncertain? He was God with the power and the wisdom of God. He wanted His teaching preserved free from error to the very end of the world. He could and He did provide the means to ensure that it would be preserved: “Heaven and earth shall pass away, but My word shall not pass away” (Mark 13, 31).

CHRIST’S CHURCH

“Through the Church,” St. Paul tells us, “is made known the manifold wisdom of God according to the eternal purpose which He made in Christ Jesus, our Lord” (Ephes. 3: 10). Christ’s way of safeguarding His teaching was to establish His Church, divinely commissioned and divinely guaranteed. He gathered around Him a small body of men, twelve apostles. For three years they lived with Him. They heard His teaching, saw His example, heard His prophecies, saw His miracles. They saw Him dead; they saw Him risen from the dead. They were to carry on His work: “As the Father has sent Me, I also send you.” They were to be the foundation members of a living, teaching authority which He called His Church: In Matthew 16: 18 He says “Upon this rock I will build My Church.” That Church was not a mere aggregation of men who discovered His teaching as best they could from the Bible-there was no New Testament then. It was an organized society of persons with a constitution and authority defined by Christ Himself in order to preserve and propagate His teaching and to administer special means of sanctification-a living organism rather than an organization; “the Body of Christ.”

CHRIST’S KINGDOM

Repeatedly Christ avowed His intention of establishing a kingdom. No less than 19 of His parables are on the subject of His kingdom on earth, His Church. This was His dearest work: “Christ loved the Church,” St. Paul tells us, “and delivered Himself up for it” (Ephes. 5: 25). Christ “purchased the Church with His Blood” (Acts 20: 28). He identified the Church with Himself. To Saul of Tarsus, “breathing out threatenings and slaughter” against the members of His infant Church, He said: “Saul, Saul, why persecute you Me?” (Acts 9: 4). It is the Body of Christ, Christ’s way of teaching, directing and sanctifying all men inall ages: “For as the body is one and has many members,” St. Paul wrote to the Corinthians, “and all the members of the body, whereas they are many, yet are one body, so also is Christ. For in one Spirit were we all baptized into one body. . . . Now you are the body of Christ” (I Cor. 12: 12–27).

AN IMPERISHABLE CHURCH

He promised that His Church would last to the very end of the world. Though all the fury of hell might be let loose against His Church, it would never overthrow it: “the gates of hell shall not prevail against it” (Matt. 16: 18). He would safeguard it Himself: “I am with you all days even to the consummation of the world” (Matt. 28: 18). So would God, the Holy Ghost: “He will teach you all truth and abide with you forever” (John 14: 16).

THE CHURCH INFALLIBLE

1. Christ established the Church to carry on His work: “As the Father has sent Me, I also send you.” That work was to teach truth: “For this was I born and for this I came into the world, to give testimony to the truth” (John 18: 37).

2. So clearly would the Church teach what He taught that He couldsay: “He that hears you hears Me; he that despises you despises Me” (Luke 10: 16).

3.God the Holy Ghost would safeguard its teaching: “He will teach you all truth and abide with you forever” (John 14: 16).

4. Our Divine Lord bound all men to accept its teaching and threatened with severest penalties those who refused. He could not do that if it were capable of teaching error: “He that believes not shall be condemned” (Mark 16: 16). “He that will not hear the Church, let him be to you as the heathen” (Matt. 18: 17). “And whosoever shall not receive you, nor hear your words . . . shake off the dust from your feet. Amen, I say to you, it shall be more tolerable for the land of Sodom and Gomorrah in the day of judgement than for that city” (Matt. 10: 14). Whatever excuse there might be for the immorality of Sodom and Gomorrah because of the weakness of human nature, there would be no excuse for failure to hear those who speak in Christ’s name: “he that despises you despises Me.”

5. Christ promised that His teaching would always be safeguarded: “Heaven and earth shall pass away but My word shall not pass away” (Matt. 24: 35). The Church that represents Him will never misrepresent Him-it must be infallible.

6. St. Paul explains, as we have already seen, how the teaching of Christ is safeguarded “through the Church” (Ephes. 3: 10). “The Church,” he says, “is the pillar and the ground of truth.” (I Tim 3: 15)

7. The apostles themselves were so convinced of their God-given authority and protection that they could issue their decree after the first Council of Jerusalem with the words: “It has seemed good to the Holy Ghost and to us” (Acts 15: 28), and St. Paul could write to the Galatians: “Even though an angel from heaven should preach to you a gospel other than wehave preached, let him be anathema” (Gal. 1: 8). Their teaching was not the teaching of men, nor even of angels, but the teaching of God Himself. They spoke. he said, “not in the learned words of human wisdom, but in the doctrine of the Spirit” (I Cor. 2: 13), for “we have the mind of Christ” (I Cor. 2: 16). St. John warns his readers: “Whosoever revolts and continues not in the doctrine of Christ has not God. . . . If any man come unto you and bring not this doctrine, receive him not into your house” (2 John 1: 10).

ONE CHURCH ONLY

Repeatedly Christ insisted upon unity amongst His followers, absolute oneness of faith in one Church. 1. That Church He always speaks of as one, not many.

2. He calls it one family, one fold, one city, one kingdom.

3. “Every kingdom divided against itself shall be made desolate and every city or house divided against itself shall not stand” (Mat. 12: 25)- but His Kingdom will last to the very end of time, therefore will not be divided. 4. “Other sheep I have that are not of this fold; them also I must bring and they shall hear My voice and there shall be one fold and one shepherd” (John 10: 16)-notice where His voice is to be heard -in that one fold under one shepherd. 5. “He that is not with Me is against Me” (Matt. 12; 30) -wemust be one thing or the other. “He that gathers not with

Me scatters”-gathers, you see, into that one fold under one shepherd.

6. Perfect unity of faith amongst His followers is the subject of Christ’s most earnest prayer on the eve of His passion:

“Holy Father, keep them in Your name whom You have given me; that they may be one as we also are . . . sanctify them in truth. Your word is truth. . . . And for them do I sanctify myself, that they also may be sanctified in truth. And not for them only do I pray, but for them also who through their word shall believe in Me. That they all may be one, as You Father in Me and I in You; that they also may be one in us that the world may believe that You have sent Me and have loved them as You have loved Me” (John 17: 11–23). Notice the kind of unity they are to have-in truth: “sanctify them in truth”; and the degree of unity-perfect unity like the unity of God Himself: “that they may be made perfect in one . . . as You Father in Me and I in You.” This unity is to be the distinguishing characteristic by which men are to know where His teaching is to be found: “that the world may believe that You have sent Me.”

CHAOS OUTSIDE TRUE CHURCH

7. St. Paul warns the Ephesians to be “careful to keep the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace. One body and one Spirit as you are called in one hope of your calling. One Lord, one faith, one baptism, one God and Father of all” (Ephes. 4: 3). There is only one God; there must be only one religion.

8. He warns the Romans against tho se who would introduce new doctrines: “Now I beseech you, brethren to mark them who make dissensions and offences contrary to the doctrine which you have learned and avoid them, for they that are such serve not Christ Our Lord” (Rom. 16: 17).

9. He insists on perfect unity of mind and heart amongst the Corinthians: “Now I beseech you brethren, by the name of Our Lord Jesus Christ, that you all speak the same thing and that there be no schisms among you, but that you may be perfect in the same mind and in the same judgement” (1 Cor. 1: 10).

10. He explains why God has insisted on one body, the Church, and one body of teaching: “that henceforth we be no more children tossed to and fro and carried about with every wind of doctrine, by the wickedness of men, by cunning craftiness by which they lie in wait to deceive” (Ephes. 4: 14). Only in that one body have we perfect security; outside it, we are at the mercy of “every wind of doctrine.”

11. The Galatians he warns: “if anyone preach to you a gospel besides that which you have received, let him be anathema” (Gal. 1: 9).

UNITY IN GOD’S WAY

It must be clear that the unity intended by God was unity of faith. There can be no reunion save on that basis. Union with Christ is so close and so perfect in the Church which He established that St. Paul compares it to a body of which Christ is the head and we are the organs. If revelation is true, if God does speak through one Church only, then it is an insult not to listen; to disregard it is to disregard Almighty God.

Since Christ established one Church and one Church only, one religion is not as good as another -falsehood is not as good as truth, man-made theories are not as good as the infallible certainty of the teaching of God. There is one way and one way only of knowing the teaching of Christ-through the Church established by Christ to teach in His name and with His authority. To minimize or to exaggerate the teaching of Christ in any way, to compromise on matters of truth for the sake of convenient unity amongst men, would be treason to God and treachery to men. Our duty, then, is to find out which is the Church established by Christ and, having found it, to obey it as we would obey Christ Himself. Of that Church Christ has said: “He that hears you hears Me; he that despises you despises Me” (Luke 10: 16) . . .”he that will not hear the Church, let him be to you as the heathen” (Matt. 18: 17).

A REVOLUTION

Four hundred or so years ago, the so-called Reformers split the unity of Christendom; they tore limbs from the Body of Christ. Christ had promised that the gates of hell would never prevail against His Church; the Reformers said, in effect, that it had. He promised to safeguard His Church to the very end of the world-they implied that He didn’t. He gave an assurance that His teaching would never pass away-they said it had. Who are we to believe, God or men?

Whatever cause there might have been for a reformation, there was no justification for a revolution -and that is just what took place. No one doubts for a moment that there were evils and abuses amongst members of the Church at the time of the “Reformation.” The evils should have been removed, not other churches established by men. When you have dirt in your eye, you don’t cut the eye out; you remove the dirt. If there was dirt in the Church, that should have been removed. The Reformers substituted a glass eye for the living eye provided by Christ Himself in order that men might be able to discern the truth.

PROTESTANT FAILURE

Has Protestantism given men that sense of security and certainty that Christ meant them to have? Has it succeeded in securing that unity amongst Christ’s followers upon which He and His apostles insisted so much? Has the “Reformation” really reformed anything, or has it led to thatdiversity of which St. Paul speaks where men will be “tossed to and fro by every wind of doctrine”? Look around and see the result. Compare the perfect unity of belief, worship and government of the Catholic Church with the utter lack of unity elsewhere. Hundreds of Protestant sects have now arisen and continue to multiply. Appealing to the Bible, one sect will claim that there is only one Person in God; others appeal to the same sacred text to prove that there are three. One will prove from the Bible that Christ was not God; others appeal to the same source to show that He is. One appeals to the authority of the Scripture to assert that Baptism of infants is not justified; others hold that it is. Four simple words: “This is My Body,” have been interpreted in over one hundred different ways. Even the authority of the Bible itself is doubted or denied by the descendants of those people who once regarded it as the only source of all revealed truth.

A COMPARISON

As time goes on, Protestantism continues to disintegrate and decompose until there is no particle of the original faith that is not denied. Each new day finds the Catholic Church growing in numbers, strengthened in unity and solidity, determined as ever to sacrifice all things rather than swerve from the duty she owes to her Divine Master of preaching the Gospel to every creature, of teaching them to observe all things whatsoever He has commanded. Which system looks like the one God would have established? Which looks like the work of men? Which looks like the system protected by God: “I am with you all days”? Where is the house founded on a rock? Which is built on shifting sand? Against which have the gates of hell not prevailed? Who have wrested the Scriptures to their own destruction?

EVIDENCE OF HISTORY

That Christ has kept His promise to safeguard His Church is abundantly clear from the long, triumphant history of the one clearly defined and divinely instituted Church that has existed from apostolic times-the Catholic Church. From the time of its establishment, this Church has met violence, hatred and opposition from every power, both civil and religious, on earth. It asked the Jews to abandon agelong hopes. The Scribes and Pharisees amongst them had been called a “brood of vipers” and “whited sepulchres” and accused of pride, hypocrisy, cruelty and injustice. Would they be likely to let Christianity flourish if they could stifle it? Yet 3000 people were baptized in Jerusalem itself, the very city in which Christ had been crucified as a malefactor only fifty days earlier. In a few years, a former Jew could write: “Verily their sound has gone forth into all the earth and their words unto the ends of the whole world” (Rom. 10: 18). Saul, the zealous Pharisee who hated Christianity and tried to suppress it, was himself converted and became Paul the ardent apostle who soon could say: “I have suffered the loss of all things and count them as nothing that I may gain Christ.”

PAGAN PERSECUTIONS

This Church was in deadly conflict with the paganism of the time. It demanded that the proud Romans sacrifice their pride, their vices and their gods and bow down in adoration before a member of the despised and conquered Jewish race who had died like a criminal on a cross. The greatest power in the world, the mighty Roman Empire, tried to crush it. Its first leaders, the apostles, were cruelly tortured and done to death. Under ten savage persecutions, thousands of Christians suffered every year at Rome alone. Some of them were crucified like Christ Himself. Groups of them were slaughtered by the sword, many were thrown to the wild beasts in the amphitheatre to be mangled and torn to pieces to provide sport for the pagans of the city of Rome. Some of them were smeared with pitch and set on fire at night in the arena to provide a spectacle for the crowd. Eyes were burnt out, tongues cut out, limbs broken on the rack. Mothers were forced to watch their children tortured and cut to pieces. They suffered and died gladly rather than renounce by one word or gesture their faith in Christ, Who meant so much to them. . . . The blood of martyrs became the seed of Christians and in 300 years the Roman Empire itself was won to Christianity. How could it have succeeded-an infant Church against a giant empire- unless it had been divine? . . . unless Christ had kept His promise: “I am with you all days even to the consummation of the world”? All the fury of hell seemed to be let loose against them, but Christ had promised: “the gates of hell shall not prevail against it.”

MORE VIOLENCE

For a thousand years, the might of that militant Islam known as Mahommedanism was thrust against the Church in an attempt to crush her, but finally subsided to leave the Church unconquered and unconquerable. Down through the centuries, the world the flesh and the devil have combined in an attempt to overthrow the Church of God. A human institution, if it had ever begun to develop against such tremendous odds, would soon have perished. Century after century she has met new attacks, but each new blow has only served to purify and strengthen her. Peter, her first leader, was crucified on the Vatican Hill in Rome. Today, Peter’s successor, from that same Vatican Hill, receives the willing obedience of hundreds of millions of devoted subjects from all parts of the world.

Physical violence failed to stop her progress. Intellectual attack failed, too, as Gnostics, Manicheans, Donatists, Arians and Pelagians tried to supplant God’s scheme with a better scheme of their own. We have lived to see the disintegration and decomposition of the greatest of modern heresies-Protestantism. As new foes prepare to meet her-Rationalism, Modernism, Communism-the Church of God stands secure; the gates of hell shall not prevail against her. Almost alone, she raises her voice as men attempt to render to Caesar the things that are God’s and strike at the very root of Christian life by defiling the sanctity of marriage and the sacredness of human life.

CATHOLIC CHURCH UNIQUE

More and more clearly she stands out as “the pillar and the ground of truth,” the “house built on a rock,” “the city set on a hill,” the “one fold under one shepherd,” the tiny mustard seed grown to an immense tree.

She alone in the face of every foe fearlessly safeguards the teaching of Christ. She alone numbers amongst her subjects children of every age and race, colour and custom, language and political creed. Her members differ amongst themselves on all things except the one thing that, on the authority of God matters most, the knowledge, love and service of God. She alone possesses that unity of belief, worship and government that distinguishes her from all man-made institutions. She alone traces her history, her teaching and her worship in proud, unbroken line to Christ.

She alone numbers amongst her children those who leave home, friends and worldly possessions to follow Christ; to consecrate themselves body and soul by vows of poverty, chastity and obedience to the service of God and their fellowmen. She alone welcomes to her fold year after year hundreds of thousands of men and women whose conversion often means misunderstanding, loss of friends and sometimes the loss of everything. They have found the pearl of great price; they give all they possess to secure it.

CONVERSIONS

Each year sees an increase in the number of conversions to the Catholic Church in almost every land. In the U.S.A. more than 100,000 adult non-Catholics have been received into the Catholic Church on each of the past three years. In England, some 11,000 converts are baptized each year. In Australia, converts are instructed and received into the Church each year in almost every parish throughout the Commonwealth.

Are the converts to the Catholic Church only simple, uneducated people who have been fooled by sly priests, as is sometimes suggested? They include many ministers of non-Catholic denominations, university professors, prominent men and women from the world of science and literature, people of every walk of life. Why did they become Catholics? Only because, after studying the claims of the Catholic Church and praying earnestly to God for light, they have realized that they could not be anything else. Cardinal Newman, when charged with being a traitor to the Church of England, or trying to do something sensational replied: “I have a good name with many; I am deliberately sacrificing it. I have a bad name with more; I am fulfilling all their worst wishes and giving them their most coveted triumph. I am distressing all I love, unsettling all I have instructed or aided. I am going to those whom I do not know, and of whom I expect very little. I am making myself an outcast, and that at my age-Oh! what can it be but stern necessity which causes this.” (Letter to his sister, 15th March, 1845.) What else but stern necessity could have brought into the Catholic Church Robert Hugh Benson, son of the primate of the Church of England, the Archbishop of Canterbury, or Ronald Knox, son of an Anglican Bishop, or those hundreds of ministers who have lost their only means of living and their oldest and best friends who could not understand?

What kind of Catholics do they become? Often they put to shame those who have had the faith from the cradle. An American convert, Dorothy Fremont Grant,has written in her book: “What Other Answer?”: “After almost eight years, I still see many Catholics whom I would like to shake until their teeth rattle-because they are so careless with the precious gift of faith.” Of the day of her conversion, she wrote: “What I did today is just as final as committing suicide. If I fail the fault will be mine, for God is never wrong.” She knew she had found God in the Catholic Church, Augustine Roth, a former Baptist minister and author of “Out of the Wilderness,” wrote: “There are no more doubts, no more fears, no more empty, meaningless sects; I have found the Father’s house.”

DISILLUSIONED?

What have they found in the Catholic Church? This is what John L. Stoddard wrote in “Rebuilding a Lost Faith”: “This one, holy, apostolic Church has given me certainty for doubt, order for confusion, sunlight for darkness and substance for shadow. . . . Favoured are those who from their childhood up are nurtured in the Catholic Church and to whom all her comforts, aids and sacraments come no less freely than the air and sunshine. Yet I have sometimes wondered whether such favoured Catholics ever know the rapture of the homeless waif to whom the splendours of his Father’s house are suddenly revealed; the consolation of the mariner whose storm-tossed vessel finally attains the sheltered port; the gratitude of the lonely wanderer, long lost in cold and darkness, who shares at last, however undeservedly, the warmth and light of God’s great Spiritual Home.” A Professor of Liberal Arts at the University of Washington, Dr. Herbert E. Cory, like so many others, has only one regret-why did he delay so long: “As I look backward over the years, I am often amazed and annoyed at the obstinacy with which in the face of innumerable and unusual opportunities, I resisted the truth. . . . It was not until the day of my first Holy Communion that I found I had attained, for the first time, to what in the strictest sense of the word may be termed happiness in contrast with mere pleasure” (“The Emancipation of a Freethinker”).

ARE THEY SATISFIED?

Are they satisfied with what they have found? Listen to what Penrose Fry, a former Anglican Minister, wrote in “The Church Surprising”: “I ask of God no other grace than this, that I may spend the days on earth that are mine as her devout and loving son, as devout and loving to her as she, the one, holy, Catholic, apostolic and Roman Church is a sweet and loving mother to me; and that when I come to die, I may do so with her tender arms around me, her prayers about me, her Sacraments within me and that faith and hope mid security in my heart which she alone possesses and she alone can teach.”

Maurice Baringwrote in 1922: “I was received into the Church on the Eve of Candlemas, 1909, and it is perhaps the only act in my life which I am quite certain I have never regretted. Every day I live, the Church seems to me more and more solemn and sustaining; the voice of the Church, her liturgy, her rules and her discipline, her ritual, her decisions in matters of Faith and Morals more and more excellent and profoundly wise and true and right, and her children stamped with something that those outside her are without. There I have found truth and reality and everything outside her is to me compared with her as dust and shadow.”

John Henry Newman , who as an Anglican minister in perplexity and doubt wrote the beautiful “Lead Kindly Light,” could write after being a Catholic for more than thirty years: “I have been in perfect peace and contentment; I have never had one doubt. . . . It was like coming into port after a rough sea. and my happiness on that score remains to this day without interruption.” In 1862, he wrote to the “Globe” newspaper in answer to those who continued to say that he was not that happy as a Catholic: “I have not had one moment’s wavering of trust in the Catholic Church ever since I was received into her fold. I hold, and ever have held, that her Sovereign Pontiff is the centre of unity and the Vicar of Christ; and I have ever had, and have still, an unclouded faith in her creed in all its articles; a supreme satisfaction in her worship, discipline and teaching; and an eager longing, and a hope against hope that the many dear friends whom I have left in Protestantism may be partakers of my happiness.”

Of his conversion, Chestertonwrote: “I have sometimes put it to myself, as something between a melancholy meditation and a joke: “Where should I go now if I did leave the Catholic Church?” . . . I could no more go back than a man who has regained his sanity could go back to the padded cell.” Dom Bede Camm wrote in “Anglican Memories”; “Every succeeding year has brought increasing gladness and growing thankfulness to Him Who thus wondrously led us out of the City of Confusion into the City of Peace.”

COMING HOME

To become a Catholic does not mean entering some strange religious organization; the convert to the Catholic Church comes to that spiritual home where he would have been all along had it not been for the Protestant Reformation. We all belong to one Heavenly Father; why should we be different?We all long for unity; God Himself wills it. May men’s anxiety “about the effrontery with which the united front of militant atheism advances” strengthen the resolution of all, Catholic and non-Catholic alike, to strive unceasingly towards a realization of Our Lord’s own prayer: “that they all may be one, as You Father in Me and I in You, that they all may be one in us and the world may believe that You have sent Me.” Let all pray earnestly and perseveringly that thewill of God may be done: “Other sheep I have that are not of this fold; them also I must bring and they shall hear My voice and there shall be one fold and one shepherd,”

Nihil obstat:

W. M. COLLINS,

Censor Dioc.

Imprimatur:

@ D. MANNIX,

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis. 1951

********

Christmastide

O ADMIRABILE COMMERCIUM! BY ABBOT MARMION, O.S.B

INDEX

SUMMARY. -The mystery of the Incarnation is a wonderful exchange between divinity and humanity.-I. The Eternal Word asks of us a human nature in order to unite it to Himself by a personal union: Creator . . . animatum corpus sumens.-II. In becoming Incarnate, the Word brings us, in return, a share in His Divinity: Largitus est nobis suam deitatem.-III. This exchange appears still more wonderful when we consider the manner in which it is wrought. The Incarnation renders God visible so that we may hear and imitate Him.-IV. It renders God passible, capable of expiating our sins by His sufferings and of healing us by His humiliations.-V. We are to take our part in this exchange by faith: those who receive the Word-madeflesh by believing in Him have “power to be made the sons of God.”

The coming of the Son of God upon earth is so great an event that God willed to prepare the way for it during centuries. He made rites and sacrifices, figures and symbols, all converge towards Christ; He foretold Him, announced Him by the mouth of the prophets who succeeded one another from generation to generation.

And now it is the very Son of God Who comes to instruct us:

Multifariam multisque modis olim Deus loquens patribus . . . novissime locutus est nobis in Filio (Heb 1:1,2). For Christ is not only born for the Jews of Judea who lived in His time. It is for us all, for all mankind, that He came down from Heaven:

Propter nos et propter nostram salutem descendit de caelis. He wills to distribute to every soul the grace that He merited by His Nativity.

This is why the Church, guided by the Holy Spirit, appropriates to herself, in order to place them upon our lips and with them to fill our hearts, the longings of the patriarchs, the aspirations of the just of ancient times, and the desires of the Chosen People. She wills to prepare us for Christ’s coming, as if this Nativity was about to be renewed before our eyes.

See how when she commemorates the coming of her Divine Bridegroom upon earth, she displays the splendour of her solemnities, and makes her altars brilliant with lights to celebrate the Birth of the “Prince of Peace” (Is 9:6), the “Sun of Justice” (Mal 4:2), Who rises in the midst of our darkness to enlighten “every man that cometh into this world” (Jn 1:5, 9). She grants her priests the privilege, almost unique in the year, of thrice offering the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass.

These feasts are magnificent, they are likewise full of charm. The Church evokes the remembrance of the Angels singing in the sky the glory of the new-born Babe; of the Shepherds who come to adore at the manger; of the Magi who hasten from the East to offer Him their adorations and rich presents.

And yet, like every feast here below, this solemnity, even with the prolongation of its octave, is ephemeral: it passes by. Is it for the feast of a day, howsoever splendid it may be, that the Church requires such a long preparation from us? Certainly not! Why then? Because she knows that the contemplation of this mystery contains a special and choice grace for our souls.

I said at the beginning of these conferences that each one of Christ’s mysteries constitutes not only a historical fact which takes place in time, but contains a grace proper to itself wherewith our souls are to be nourished so as to live thereby.

Now what is the intimate grace of the mystery of the Nativity? What is the grace for the reception of which the Church takes so much care to dispose us? What is the fruit that we ought to gather from the contemplation of the Christ Child?

The Church herself indicates this at the first Mass, that of midnight. After having offered the bread and wine which, in a few moments, are to be changed, by the consecration, into the Body and Blood of Jesus Christ, she sums up her desires in this prayer:

“Grant, O Lord, that the oblation which in we offer today’s festival may be acceptable unto Thee, and, by Thy grace, through this most sacred and holy intercourse, may we be found like unto Him in Whom is our substance united to Thee.”

(Accepta tibi sit, Domine, quaesumus, hodiernae festivitatis oblatio: ut tua gratia largiente, per haec sacrosancta commercia, in illiusi nveniamur forma, in quo tecum est nostra substantia. Secret of the Midnight Mass.) The word forma is here taken in the sense of “nature,” “condition” natura, as in the text of St Paul: Christus cum in forma Dei esset . . . exinanivit semetipsum formam servi accipiens et habitu inventus ut homo.)

We ask to be partakers of that divinity to which our humanity is united. It is like an exchange. God, in becoming incarnate, takes our human nature and gives us, in return, a participation in His Divine nature.

This thought, so concise in its form, is more explicitly expressed in the secret of the second Mass: “Grant, O Lord, that our offerings may be conformed to the mysteries of this day’s Nativity, that as He Who is born as man is also God made manifest, so this earthly substance (which He unites to Himself) may confer upon us that which is divine.” (Munera rostra, quaesumus, Domine, nativitatis hodiernae mysteriis apta proveniant, ut sicut homo genitus idem refulsit et Deus, sic nobis haec terrena substantia conferat quod divinum est. . (Secret of the Mass at Break of Day.)

To be made partakers of the Divinity to which our humanity was united in the Person of Christ, and to receive this Divine gift through this humanity itself,-such is the grace attached to the celebration of today’s mystery.

Our offerings will be “conformed to the mysteries of this day’s Nativity,” according to the words of the above quoted secret, if-by the contemplation of the Divine work at Bethlehem and the reception of the Eucharistic Sacrament,-we participate in the eternal life that Christ wills to communicate to us by His Humanity.

“O admirable exchange,” we shall sing on the octave day, “the Creator of the human race, taking upon Himself a body and a soul, has vouchsafed to be born of a Virgin, and, appearing here below as man, has made us partakers of His Divinity”: O admirabile commercium! CREATOR generis human), ANIMATUM CORPUS SUMENS, de virgine nasci dignatus est; et procedens homo sine semine, LARGITUS EST NOBIS SUAM DEITATEM (Antiphon of the Octave of Christmas).

Let us, therefore, stay for a few moments to admire, with the Church, this exchange between the creature and the Creator between heaven and earth, an exchange upon which all the mystery of the Nativity is based. Let us consider what are the acts and the matter of it;-under what form it is wrought;-we will afterwards see what fruits are to be derived from it for us;-and to what it engages us.

I

Let us transport ourselves to the stable-cave at Bethlehem; let us behold the Child lying upon the straw. What is He in the sight of the profane, in the sight of an inhabitant of the little city who might happen to come there after the Birth of Jesus?

Only a new-born Babe to Whom a woman of Nazareth had given birth; only a son of Adam like unto us, for His parents have Him inscribed upon the register of enrolment; the details of His genealogy can be followed. There He lies upon the straw, a weak Babe Whose life is sustained by a little milk. Many Jews saw nothing more in Him than this. Later on you will hear His compatriots, astonished at His wisdom, ask themselves where He could have learnt it, for, in their eyes, He had never been anything but “the son of a carpenter”: Nonne hic est fabri filius? . . . (Mt 13:55; cf. Mk 6:3; Lk 4:22).

But to the eyes of faith, a life higher than the human life animates this Child: He possesses Divine life. What does faith, indeed, tell us on this subject? What revelation does it give us?

Faith tells us that this Child is God’s own Son. He is the Word, the Second Person of the Adorable Trinity; He is the Son Who receives Divine life from His Father, by an ineffable communication: Sicut Pater habet vitam in semetipso, sic dedit et Filio habere vitam in semetipso (Lk 4:22). He possesses the Divine nature, with all its infinite perfections. In the heavenly splendours, in splendoribus sanctorum (Ps 109:3). God begets this Son by an eternal generation.

It is to this Divine Sonship in the bosom of the Father that our adoration turns first of all; it is this Sonship that we extol in the midnight Mass. At day-break, the Holy Sacrifice will celebrate the Nativity of Christ according to the flesh, His Birth, at Bethlehem, of the Virgin Mary; finally, the third Mass will be in honour of Christ’s coming into our souls.

The Mass of the night, all enveloped with mystery, begins with these solemn words: Dominus dixit ad me: Filius meus es tu, ego hodie genui te (Introit of the Mass of Midnight), This cry that escapes from the soul of Christ united to the Person of the Word, reveals to earth for the first time that which the heavens hear from all eternity . “The Lord hath said to Me: Thou art My Son: this day have I begotten Thee.” “This day” is first of all the day of eternity, a day without dawn or decline.

The Heavenly Father now contemplates His Incarnate Son. The Word, although made man, nevertheless remains God. Become the Son of man, He is still the Son of God. The first glance that falls upon Christ, the first love wherewith He is surrounded, is the glance, the love of His Father. Diliget me, Pater (Jn 15:9). What contemplation and what love! Christ is the Only-begotten Son of the Father; therein lies His essential glory. He is equal to and “consubstantial with the Father, God of God, Light of Light . . . by Whom all things were made,” “and without Him was made nothing that was made.” It is of this Son that these words were spoken: “Thou in the beginning, O Lord, didst found the earth, and the works of Thy hands are the heavens. They shall perish, but Thou shalt continue; and they shall all grow old as a garment; and as a vesture shalt Thou change them, and they shall be changed; but Thou art the selfsame, and Thy years shall not fail!” (Epistle for the Mass of Christmas Day.)

And this “Word was made Flesh”: Et Verbum caro factum est.

Let us adore this Word become Incarnate for us: Christus natus est nobis, venite adoremus (Invitatory for Christmas Matins.) . . . A God takes our humanity: conceived by the mysterious operation of the Holy Ghost in Mary’s womb, Christ is born of the most pure substance of the blood of the Virgin, and the life that He has from her makes Him like unto us! Creator generis human) de virgine nasci dignatus est, et procedens homo sine semine.

This is what faith tells us: this Child is the Incarnate Word of God; He is the Creator of the human race become man. Creator generis human); if He needs a little milk to nourish Him, it is by His hand that the birds of heaven are fed.

Parvoque lacte pastus est Per quem nec ales esurit (Hymn of Christmas Lauds)

Let us contemplate this Infant lying in the manger. His eyes are closed, He sleeps, He does not manifest outwardly what He is. In appearance, He is only like all other infants, and yet, being God, being the Eternal Word, He, at this moment, is judging the souls that appear before Him. “He lies upon straw, and as God, He sustains the universe and reigns in heaven”: Jacet in praesepio et in caelis regnat (12th response at Matins on the Sunday of the Octave of Christmas), This Child, just beginning to grow, Puer crescebat . . . et proficiebat aetate (Lk 2:40, 52), is the Eternal Whose divine nature knows no change: Tu idem ipse es, et anni tui non deficient. He Who is born in time is likewise He Who is before all time; He Who manifests Himself to the shepherds of Bethlehem is He Who, out of nothing, created the nations that, “are before Him as if they had no being at all” (Is 40:17).

Palamque fit pastoribus Pastor creator omnium (Hymn of Christmas Lauds.)

To the eyes of faith there are two lives in this Babe; two lives indissolubly united in an ineffable manner, for the Human Nature belongs to the Word in such wise that there is but a single Person, that of the Word, Who sustains the Human Nature by His own Divine existence.

Undoubtedly, this human nature is perfect: perfectus homo (Creed attributed to St. Athanasius): nothing of that which belongs to its essence is lacking to Him. This Babe has a soul like to ours; He has faculties:-intelligence, will, imagination, sensibility- like ours. He is truly one of our own race Whose existence will be revealed, during thirty three years, as authentically human. Sin, alone, will be unknown to Him. Debuit per omnia fratribus similar) (Heb 2:17) . . . absque peccato (Ibid. 4:15). Perfect in itself, this human nature will keep its own activity, its native splendour. Between these two lives of Christ-the Divine, which He ever possesses by His eternal birth in the bosom of the Father; the human which He has begun to possess by His Incarnation in the bosom of a Virgin-there is neither mingling nor confusion. The Word, in becoming man, remains what He was; that which He was not, He has taken from our race; but the divine in Him does not absorb the human, the human does not lessen the divine. The union is such, as I have often said, that there is however but a single Person-the Divine Person,-and that the human nature belongs to the Word, is the Word’s own humanity: Mirabile mysterium declaratur hodie: innovantur naturae, Deus homo factus est; id quod fuit permansit et quod non erat assumpsit, non commixtionem passus neque divisionem (Antiphon of Lauds in the Octave of Christmas.)

II

This then, if I may so express myself, is one of the acts of the contract. God takes our nature so as to unite it to Himself in a personal union.

What is the other act? What is God going to give us in return? Not that He owes us anything: Bonorum meorum non eges (Ps 15:2). But as He does all things with wisdom, He could not take upon Himself our nature without a motive worthy of Him.

What the Word Incarnate gives in return to humanity is an incomprehensible gift; it is a participation, real and intimate, in His Divine nature: Largitus est nobis suam deitatem. In exchange for the humanity which He takes, the Incarnate Word gives us a share in His Divinity; He makes us partakers of His Divine Nature. And thus is accomplished the most wonderful exchange which could be made.

Doubtless, as you know, this participation had already been offered and given, from the creation, to Adam, the first man. The gift of grace, with all its splendid train of privileges, made Adam like to God. But the sin of the first man, the head of the human race, destroyed and rendered this ineffable participation impossible on the part of the creature.

It is to restore this participation that the Word becomes Incarnate; it is to reopen to us the way to heaven that God is made man. For this Child, being God’s own Son, has Divine life, like His Father, with His Father. In this Child “dwelleth all the fulness of the Godhead corporeally” (Col. 2:9); in Him are laid up all the treasures of the divinity (Cf. Ibid. 3). But He does not possess them for Himself alone. He infinitely desires to communicate to us the Divine life that He Himself is: Ego sum vita (Jn 14:6). It is for this that He comes: Ego vend UT vitam habeant (Ibid. 10:10). It is for us that a Child is born; it is to us that a Son is given: Puer natus est NOBIS et Filius datus est nobis (Introit of the Mass of the day). In making us share in His condition of Son, He will make us children of God. “When the fulness of time was come, God sent making us share in His condition of Son, He will make us children of God. “When the fulness of time was come, God sent 5). “What Christ is by nature, that is to say the Son of God, we are to be by grace; the Incarnate Word, the Son of God made man is to become the author of our divine generation: Natus hodie Salvator mundi DIVINAE NOBIS GENERATIONIS est auctor (Postcommunion of the Mass of Christmas Day). So that, although He be the Only-begotten Son, He will become the First-born of many brethren: UT sit IPSE PRIMOGENITUS in multis fratribus (Rom 8:29).

Such are the two acts of the wonderful “bargain” that God makes with us: He takes our nature in order to communicate to us His divinity; He takes a human life so as to make us partakers of His divine life: He is made man so as to make us gods: Factus est Deus homo, ut homo fieret Deus (Sermon attributed to St. Augustine, number 128 in the appendix to his works). And His human Birth becomes the means of our birth to the divine life.

In us likewise there will be henceforth two lives. The one, natural, which we have by our birth according to the flesh, but which, in God’s sight, is not only without merit but, before baptism, is stained in consequence of original sin; which makes us enemies of God, worthy of His wrath: we are born filii irae (Eph 2:3). The other life, supernatural, infinitely above the rights and exigencies of our nature. It is this life that God communicates to us by His grace, since the Incarnate Word merited it for us.

God begets us to this life by His Word and the infusion of His Spirit, in the baptismal font: Genuit nos Verbo veritatis (Jac 1:18) . . . Per lavacrum regenerationis et renovationis Spiritus Sancti (Tit 3); it is a new life that is superadded to our natural life, surpassing and crowning it; In Christo nova creatura (2 Cor 5:17; Gal 6:15). It makes us children of God, brothers and sisters of Jesus Christ, worthy of one day partaking of His beatitude and glory.

Of these two lives, in us as in Christ, it is the divine that ought to dominate, although in the Child Christ it is not as yet manifested, and in us it remains ever veiled under the outward appearance of our ordinary existence. It is the divine life of grace that ought to rule and govern, and make agreeable to our Lord, all our natural activity, thus deified in its root.

Oh! if the contemplation of the Birth of Jesus and participation in this mystery by the reception of the Bread of Life would bring us to free ourselves, once and for all, from everything that destroys and lessens the divine life within us; from sin, wherefrom Christ comes to deliver us: Cujus nativitas humanam repulit vetustatem (Postcommunion for the Mass of Day-break); from all infidelity and all attachment to creatures; from the irregulated care for passing things: Abnegantes saecularia desideria (Tit 2:12; Epistle for the midnight Mass); from the trying preoccupations of our vain self love! . . .

If we could thus be brought to give ourselves entirely to God, according to the promises of our baptism when we were born to the divine life; to yield ourselves up to the accomplishment of His will and good pleasure, as did the Incarnate Word in entering into this world: Ecce venio . . . ut faciam Deus voluntatem tuam (Heb 10:7); to abound in those good works which make us pleasing to God: Populum acceptabilem, sectatorem bonorum operum (Tit 2:14. Epistle for the midnight Mass.)!

Then the divine life brought to us by Jesus would meet with no more obstacles and would freely expand for the glory of our Heavenly Father; then “we who are bathed in the new light of the Incarnate Word should shew forth in our deeds what by faith shineth in our minds” (Da nobis quaesumus omnipotens Deus; ut qui nova incarnati Verbi tui luce perfundimur, hoc in nostro resplendeat opere, quod per fidem fulget in mente. Collect for the Mass at Daybreak); then, “our offerings would befit the mysteries of this day’s Nativity.” Munera nostra nativitatis hodiernae mysteriis apta proveniant (Secret for the Mass at Day-break):

III

What further renders this exchange “admirable” is the manner in which it is effected, the form wherein it is accomplished. How is it accomplished? How does this Child, Who is the Incarnate Word, make us partakers of His divine life? By His Humanity. The humanity that the Word takes from us is to serve Him as the instrument for communicating His divine life to us; and this for two reasons wherein eternal wisdom infinitely shines out; the humanity renders God visible; it renders God passible.

It renders Him visible.

The Church, using the words of St. Paul, celebrates with delight this “appearing” of God amongst us: Apparuit gratia Dei Salvatoris nostri omnibus hominibus (Tit 2:11. Epistle for the midnight Mass): “The grace of God our Saviour hath appeared toall men” Apparuit benignitas et humanitas Salvatoris nostri Dei (Tit 3:4, Epistle for the Mass at Day-break). “The goodness and kindness of God our Saviour hath appeared.”

Lux fulgebit hodie super nos, quia natus est nobis Dominus (Introit of the Mass at Daybreak): “a light shall shine upon us this day: for our Lord is born to us”; Verbum caro factum est et habitavit in nobis:”The Word was made flesh, and dwelt among us.”

The Incarnate Word brings about this marvel: men have seen God Himself abiding in the midst of them.

St. John loves to dwell upon this side of the mystery. “That which was from the beginning, which we have heard, which we have seen with our eyes, which we have looked upon, and our hands have handled of the Word of life. For the life was manifested; and we have seen and do bear witness and declare unto you the Life Eternal which was with the Father, and hath appeared in us. That which we have seen and have heard, we declare unto you that . . . your joy may be full” (1 Jn 1:1–4).

What joy indeed, to see God manifesting Himself to us. not in the dazzling splendour of His omnipotence, nor in the unspeakable glory of His sovereignty, but under the veil of humble, poor, weak humanity, which we can see and touch!

We might have been afraid of the dreadful majesty of God: the Israelites fell on their faces to the ground, full of terror and fear, when God spoke to Moses upon Sinai, in the midst of lightnings. We are drawn by the charms of a God become a Babe. The Babe in the Crib seems to say to us: “You are afraid of God? You are wrong: Qui videt me, videt et Patrem (Jn 14:9). Do not heed your imagination, do not form yourselves a God from the deductions of philosophy, nor ask of science to make My perfections known to you. The true Almighty God is the God that I am and reveal; the true God is I Who come to you in poverty, humility and infancy, but Who will one day give My life for you. I am “the brightness of [the Father’s] glory, and the figure of His substance” (Heb 1:3). His Only-begotten Son, God as He is; in Me you shall learn to know His perfections, His wisdom and His goodness, His love towards men and His mercy in regard to sinners: Illuxit in cordibus nostris . . . in facie Christi Jesu (2 Cor 4:6). Come unto Me, for, God as I am, I have willed to be a man like you, and I do not reject those who draw near to Me with confidence:Sicut homo genitus IDEM refulsit et Deus.”

Why did God thus deign to render Himself visible?

First of all so as to instruct us: Apparuit erudiens nos. It is indeed God Who will henceforth speak to us by His own Son: Locutus est nobis in Filio (Heb 1:2); we have but to listen to this beloved Son in order to know what God wills of us. The Heavenly Father Himself tells us so: Hic est Filius meus dilectus: ipsum audite (Mt 17:5); and Jesus delights in repeating to us that His doctrine is that of His Father: Mea doctrina non est mea, sed ejus qui misit me (Jn 7:16).

Next the Word renders Himself visible to our sight so as to become the Example that we are to follow.

We have only to watch this Child grow, only to contemplate Him living in the midst of us, living like us as man, in order to know how we ought to live in the sight of God, as children of God: for all that He does will be pleasing to His Father: Quae placita sunt ei, facto semper (Ibid. 7:29).

Being the Truth Who has come to teach us, He will point out the way by His example; if we live in His light, if we follow this way, we shall have life: Ego sum via, et veritas et vita (Ibid. 14:6). Thus, in knowing God manifested in the midst of us, we shall be drawn by Him to the love of invisible things: Ut dum VISIBILITER Deum cognoscimus, PER HUNC in invisibilium amorem rapiamur (Preface for Christmas).

IV

The humanity of Christ renders God visible, and above all-and it is in this that Divine Wisdom is shown to be “admirable”-it renders God passible.

Sin which destroyed the divine life within us demands a satisfaction, an expiation without which it would be impossible for divine life to be restored to us. Being a mere creature, man cannot give this satisfaction for an offence of infinite malice, and, on the other hand, the Divinity can neither suffer nor expiate. God cannot communicate His life to us unless sin be blotted out; by an immutable decree of Divine Wisdom, sin can only be blotted out if it be expiated in an adequate manner. How is this problem to be solved?

The Incarnation gives us the answer. Consider the Babe of Bethlehem. He is the Word made flesh. The humanity that the Word makes His own is passible; it is this humanity which will suffer, will expiate. These sufferings, these expiations will belong, however, to the Word, as this humanity itself does; they will take from the Divine Person an infinite value which will suffice to redeem the world, to destroy sin, to make grace superabound in souls like an impetuous and fructifying river: Fluminus impetus laetificat civitatem Dei (Ps 65:5).

O admirable exchange! Do not let us stay to wonder by what other means God might have brought it about, but let us contemplate the way wherein He has done so. The word asks of us a human nature to find in it wherewith to suffer, to expiate, to merit, to heap graces upon us. It is through the flesh that man turns away from God: it is in becoming flesh that God delivers man:

Beatus auctor saeculi Servile corpus induit Ut carne carnem liberans Ne perderet quos condidit (Hymn for Lauds at Christmas.)

The flesh that the Word of God takes upon Himself, is to become the instrument of salvation for all flesh. O admirabile commercium!

Doubtless, as you know, it was necessary to await the immolation of Calvary for the expiation to be complete; but, as St. Paul teaches us, it was from the first moment of His Incarnation that Christ accepted to accomplish His Father’s will and to offer Himself as Victim for the human race: Ideo ingrediens mundum dicit: Hostiam et oblationem noluisti: CORPUS autem aptasti mihi . . . Et tune dixit: Ecce venio . . . ut faciam Deus voluntatem tuam (Heb 10:5, 7. Cf. Ps 39:8). It is by this oblation that Christ begins to sanctify us: In qua voluntate sanctificati sumus (Heb 10:10). . It is from the Crib that He inaugurates this life of suffering such as He willed to live for our salvation, this life of which the term is at Golgotha, and that, in destroying sin, is to restore to us the friendship of His Father. The Crib is certainly only the first stage, but it radically contains all the others.

This is why, in the Christmas solemnities, the Church attributes our salvation to the temporal Birth itself of the Son of God. “Grant, we beseech Thee, Almighty God, that the new Birth of Thine Only-begotten Son in the fiesh may deliver us who are held captive by the old bondage under the yoke of sin” (Concede quaesumus, omnipotens Deus, ut nos Unigeniti tui nova per carnem nativitas liberet, quos sub peccati jugo vetuita servitus tenet. Collect for the Mass of Christmas Day.). This is why, from that moment, “deliverance, redemption, salvation, eternal life,” will be spoken of constantly. It is by His Humanity that Christ, High Priest and Mediator, binds us to God; but it is at Bethlehem that He appears to us in this Humanity.

See, too, how from the moment of His Birth, He fulfils His mission.

What is it that causes us to lose divine life?

It is pride. Because they believed that they would be like unto God, having the knowledge of good and evil, Adam and Eve lost, for themselves and for their race, the friendship of God. Christ, the new Adam, redeems us, brings us back to God, by the humility of His Incarnation. Although He was God, He annihilated in taking the condition of the creature, in making Himself like unto men; He manifested Himself as man according to all appearances (Phil 2:6–7). . What a humiliation was that! Later, it is true, the Church will exalt to the highest heavens His dazzling glory as the conqueror over sin and death; but now, Christ knows only self-abasement and weakness. When our gaze rests upon this little Child, Who is in no way distinguished from others, when we think that He is God, and that in Him are hidden all the treasures of wisdom and of knowledge, we feel our souls deeply moved, and our vain pride is confounded in the face of such abasement.

And what besides pride? Our refusal to obey. See what an example of wonderful obedience the Son of God gives. With the simplicity of little children, He yields Himself up into the hands of His parents; He allows Himself to be touched, taken up and carried about; and all His Childhood, all His Boyhood and Youth are summed up in the Gospel in these few words which tell how He was subject to Mary and Joseph: Et erat subditus illis (Cf. Lk 2:51).

And next there is our covetousness “the concupiscence of the eyes” (1 Jn 2:16), all that appears, glitters, fascinates and seduces; the essential inanity of the passing trifles that we prefer to God. The Word is made flesh; but He is born in poverty and abjection. Propter nos egenus factus est cum esset dives (2 Cor 8:9). “Being rich, He became poor.” Although He is “the King of ages” (1 Tim 1:17), although He is the One Who drew all creation out of nothing by a word, and has only to open His hand to fill “with blessing every living creature” (Ps 144:16), He is not born in a palace; His Mother, finding no room in the inn, had to take refuge in a stable cave: the Son of God, Eternal Wisdom, willed to be born in destitution and laid upon straw.

If with faith and love we contemplate the Child Jesus in His Crib, we shall find in Him the Divine Example of many virtues; if we know how to lend the ear of our hearts to what He says to us, we shall learn many things; if we refiect upon the circumstances of His Birth, we shall see how the Humanity serves the Word as the instrument to instruct us, but likewise to raise us, to quicken us, to make us pleasing to His Father, to detach us from passing things, to lift us up even to Himself.

“Divinity is clad in our mortal flesh . . . and because God humbles Himself to live a human life, man is raised towards divine things”: Dum divinitas defectum nostrae carnes suscepit, humanum genus lumen, quod amiserat, recepit. Unde enim Deus humana patitur, inde homo ad divina sublevatur (S. Gregor. Homil. I, in Evangel.)

V

Thus from whatever side our faith contemplates this exchange, and whatever be the details of it that we examine, it appears admirable to us.

Is not this child-bearing of a virgin indeed admirable: Natus ineffabiliter ex virgine? (Antiphon for the Octave of Christmas).

“A young Maiden has brought forth the King Whose name is Eternal: to the honour of virginity she unites the joys of motherhood; before her, the like was never seen, nor shall it ever be so again” (Genuit puerpera regem, cui nomen aeternum, et gaudia matris habens cum virginitatis honore, nec priman similem visa est, nec habere sequentem. Antiphon for Lauds at Christmas.) “Daughters of Jerusalem, why do you admire me? This mystery that you behold in me is truly divine” (Filiae Jerusalem, quid me admiramini? Divinum est mysterium hoc quod cernitis. Antiphon for the Feast of the

Expectatio partus virginis, Dec. 18).

Admirable is this indissoluble union, that is yet without confusion, of the divinity with the humanity in the one Person of the Word: Mirabile mysterium: innovantur naturae. Admirable is this exchange, by the contrasts of its realisation: God gives us a share in His divinity, but the humanity that He takes from us in order to communicate His divine life to us is a suffering humanity, “acquainted with infirmity,” homo sciens infirmitatem (Is 53:3), that will undergo death and, by death, will restore life to us.

Admirable is this exchange in its source which is none other than God’s infinite love for us. Sic Deus dilexit mundum, ut Filium suum Unigenitum daret(Jn 3:16). “God so loved the world as to give His Only-begotten Son.” Let us, then, yield up our souls to joy and sing with the Church: Parvulus natus est nobis et filius DATUS est NOBIS. And how is He given? “In the likeness of sinful flesh.” This is why the love that thus gives Him to us in our passible humanity, in order to expiate sin, is a measureless love:

Propter NIMIAM caritatem suam, qua dilexit nos Deus, misit Filium suum in similitudinem carnis peccati (Antiphon for the Octave of Christmas).

Admirable, finally, in its fruits and effects. By this exchange, God again gives us His friendship, He restores to us the right of entering into possession of the eternal inheritance; He looks anew upon humanity with love and complacency.

Therefore, joy is one of the most marked characteristics of the celebration of this mystery. The Church constantly invites us to it, remembering the words of the angel to the shepherds: “Behold, I bring you tidings of great joy . . . for this day is born to you a Saviour” (Lk 2:10–11). It is the joy of deliverance, of the inheritance regained, of peace found once again, and, above all, of the vision of God Himself given to men: Et vocabitur nomen ejus Emmanuel (Is 7:14; cf. Mt 1:23).

But this joy will only be assured if we remain firm in the grace that comes to us from the Saviour and makes us His brethren. “O Christian,” exclaims St. Leo, in a sermon that the Church reads during this holy night, “recognise thy dignity: Agnosce, O Christiane, dignitatem tuam. And made a partaker of the divinity, take care not to fall back from so sublime a state” (Sermo I de Nativitate).

“If thou didst know the gift of God” (Jn 4:10), said our Lord Himself. If thou didst know all that this Son is Who is given to thee! If, above all, we were to receive Him as we ought to receive Him! Let it not be said of us: In propria venit, et sui eum non receperunt(Gospel for the Mass on Christmas Day). “He came unto His own, and His own received Him not.” By our creation, all of us are “His own”; we belong to God; but there are some who have not received Him upon this earth. How many Jews, how many pagans have rejected Christ, because He has appeared in the humility of passible flesh! Souls sunk in the darkness of pride and sensuality: Lux in tenebris lucet, et tenebrae eam non comprehenderunt.

And how ought we to receive Him ? By faith: His qui credunt in nomine ejus. It is to those who-believing in His Person, in His word, in His works,-have received this Child as God, that it has been given, in return, to become themselves children of God: Ex Deo nati sunt.

Such is, in fact, the fundamental disposition that we must have so that this “admirable exchange” may produce in us all its fruits. Faith alone teaches us how it is brought about; wherein it is realised; faith alone gives us a true knowledge of it and one worthy of God.

For there are many modes and degrees of knowledge.

“The ox knoweth his owner, and the ass his Master’s Crib,” wrote Isaias, in speaking of this mystery (Is 1:3). They saw the Child lying in the crib. But what could they see? As much as an animal could see: the form, the size, the colour, the movement,-an entirely rudimentary knowledge that does not pass the boundary line of sensation. Nothing more.

The passers-by, the curious, who approached the stable-cave saw the Child; but for them He was like all others. They did not go beyond this purely natural knowledge. Perhaps they were struck by the Child’s loveliness. Perhaps they pitied His destitution. But this feeling did not last and was soon replaced by indifference.

There were the Shepherds, simple-hearted men, enlightened by a ray from on high: Claritas Dei circumfulsit illos (Lk 2:9), They certainly understood more; they recognised in this Child the promised Messias, long awaited, the Exicctatio gentium (Gen 49:10); they paid Him their homage, and their souls were for a long time full of joy and peace.

The Angels likewise contemplated the New-born Babe, the Word made Flesh. They saw in Him their God; this knowledge threw these pure spirits into awe and wonderment at such incomprehensible self-abasement: for it was not to their nature that He willed to unite Himself: Nusquam angelos, but to human nature, sed semen Abrahae apprehendit (Heb 2:16).

What shall we say of the Blessed Virgin when she looked upon Jesus? Into what depths of the mystery did her gaze penetrate- that gaze so pure, so humble, so tender, so full of bliss? Who shall be able to express with what lights the soul of Jesus inundated His Mother, and what perfect homage Mary rendered to her Son, to her God, to all the states and all the mysteries whereof the Incarnation is the substance and the root.

There is finally-but this is beyond description-the gaze of the Father contemplating His Son made flesh for mankind. The Heavenly Father saw that which never man, nor angel, nor Mary herself could comprehend: the infinite perfections of the Divinity hidden in a Babe . . . And this contemplation was the source of unspeakable rapture: Thou art My Son, My beloved Son, the Son of My direction in Whom I have placed all My delights (Mk 1:2; Lk 3:22) . . .

When we contemplate the Incarnate Word at Bethlehem, let us rise above the things of sense so as to gaze upon Him with the eyes of faith alone. Faith makes us share here below in the knowledge that the Divine Persons have of One Another. There is no exaggeration in this. Sanctifying grace makes us indeed partakers of the divine nature. Now, the activity of the divine nature consists in the knowledge that the Divine Persons have the One of the Other, and the love that they have One for the Other. We participate therefore in this knowledge and in this love. And in the same way as sanctifying grace having its fruition in glory will give us the right of seeing God as He sees Himself, so, upon earth, in the shadows of faith, grace enables us to behold deep down into these mysteries through the eyes of God: Lux tuae claritatis infulsit (Preface for Christmas).

When our faith is intense and perfect, we do not stay to look only at the outside of the mystery, but we go deeply into it; we pass through the Humanity to penetrate as far as the Godhead which the Humanity at the same time hides and reveals; we behold divine mysteries in the divine light.

And ravished, astounded at such prodigious abasement, the soul, vivified by this faith, falls prostrate in adoration and yields herself up entirely to procure the glory of a God Who, from love for His creature, thus veils the native splendour of His unfathomable perfections. She can never rest until she has given all, in return, to fill up her part in the exchange that He desires to contract with her, until she has brought herself wholly into subjection to this “King of Peace Who comes with so much magnifcence” (Antiphon at Vespers on Christmas Day) to save, sanctify and, as it were, to deify her.

Let us then draw near to the Child God with great faith. We may wish to have been at Bethlehem to receive Him. Yet He is here giving Himself to us in Holy Communion with as much reality although our senses are less able to find Him. In the Tabernacle as in the Crib, it is the same God full of power, the same Saviour full of tender mercy.

If we will have it so, the admirable exchange still continues. For it is likewise through His Humanity that Christ infuses divine life into us at the Holy Table. It is in eating His Flesh and drinking His Blood, in uniting ourselves to His Humanity, that we draw at the very wellspring of everlasting life: Qui manducat meam carnem, et bibit meum sanguinem, habet vitam aeternam (Jn 6:55) . . .

Thus, each day, the union established between man and God in the Incarnation, is continued and made closer. In giving Himself in Communion, Christ increases the life of grace in the generous and faithful soul, making this life develop more freely and expand with more strength; He even bestows upon such a soul the pledge of that blessed immortality of which grace is the germ and whereby God will communicate Himself to us fully and unveiled: Ut natus hodie Salvator mundi, sicut divinae nobis generationis est auctor, ita et immortalitatis sit IPSE largitor (Postcommunion of Christmas Day).

This will be the consummation, magnificent and glorious, of the exchange inaugurated at Bethlehem in the poverty and humiliations of the Crib.

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City Set On A Hill

BY ALBERT P. HOLDEN

INDEX

THAT life has a purpose is a fact obvious to all. For without a purpose life would become a mere existence. The people we admire, as for example, the heroes of history and fiction, gained our admiration because they held ever before them the ideals they strove to attain. No one admires the man who is content to drift aimlessly through life. Such persons, it is felt, are unworthy of our attention and are treated with a feeling little short of contempt.

The greater the person, the higher the ideals we expect them to strive after. If then, it is expected of the ordinary man that he should have some purpose in life, what do we expect of Him, Whom even unbelievers recognise as ‘the most perfect of the sons of men’? Can’t we expect that Christ should have had some great purpose in life? But, as we saw in the last booklet, Whom do you say I am? He was more than the perfect man, He was really and truly God. Can we not then expect that if God considered it worthwhile to become man, He did so for some definite reason?

We are not left in doubt as to what was the purpose which the Son of God came to accomplish. He came to release men from the bondage of sin. Before He was born, the angel foretold His mission : “She (the Blessed Virgin)-shall bring forth a son, and thou shalt call His name Jesus, for He shall save His people from their sins.” (Mt. I. 21). He, himself, proclaims His mission: “The Son of Man is come to save that which was lost” (Mt. XVIII. 11). Again: “The, Son of Man is come to give His Life, a redemption for man.” (Mt. XX. 28). Christ came as the Light of the World to enlighten the darkness of mankind, and that darkness was sin.

But He came, not only to destroy sin, but to give man life in a higher and nobler sense. . “I am come,” He exclaims, “that they may have life and have it more abundantly.” (Jn. X. 10). For three years He went amongst the people preaching and giving to them the fulfilment and completion of the Old Testament. He gave them a new revelation which was, henceforth, to be the true religion and their way of salvation. He brought to them the means of release from the bonds of sin and the means to secure spiritual perfection and eternal happiness in the world to come.

During that teaching He promised, and it was God who made that promise, that this would be a religion which would last until the end of time, and which would embrace all nations. It was not to be confined solely to the people with whom He came into contact, but to be the guiding principle of men’s lives until the end of the world.

Therefore, we can understand, in some way, the problem which confronted Jesus Christ. He had to find a means, by which for all time to come, His teachings should remain in their entirety and without corruption. For He, true God, had promised that heaven and earth should pass away but His word would remain. Also He had to find a means by which His word should be spread to the uttermost parts of the earth. A mighty problem, and one which no man, no matter how great, could hope to solve. But Christ was more than man. He was God, infinite in wisdom and power. So He had at his command resources capable of performing a task which was impossible to mere nature.

How did Christ set about solving this problem? In the other booklets we have used our reason, as far as it would take us, in examining the fundamental truths of religion. When we had reached the limit of reason, we used the aid given to us by Revelation. So now, we shall adopt the same procedure to find out what means Christ took to spread abroad and preserve intact His teachings. We have already proved that the New Testament is a true historical record of actual persons and events. It is in the Gospels that we find the record of Christ’s life and His work, and it is there that we can find reference to the means He adopted.

Human Instruments.

Christ did not teach all men, but a few. These He sent into the world to teach His doctrines: “He made that twelve should be with Him, and that He might send them forth to preach.” (Mk. XVI. i6). They were to be His ambassadors, teaching in His name, and with His authority. To them He said : “He ,that heareth you, heareth me, and He that despiseth you, despiseth Me.” (Lk. X. 16). They were to have all His authority : “As the Father has sent Me so also do I send you.” (Jn. X.X. 21). This chosen band dwelt in the closest intimacy with Him. For three years He trained them to carry out the work for which they were destined. Before leaving He said to them “All things whatsoever I have heard of My Father, I have made known to you.” (Jn. XV. 15), and as a safeguard in their tremendous mission, He promises them : “The Holy Ghost, whom the. Father will send in My name, He will teach you all things, and bring all things to your mind whatsoever I have said to you.” (Jn. XIV. 26.)

Not by the written word did Christ intend His teachings to be disseminated. True, no doubt, since He was God, He could have devised a means of preparing a written formula by which His teachings could have been preserved in their integrity. Though He could have done so, He did not adopt this method. No, He commanded that these followers should propagate His teachings by the spoken word, for He bade them to go into the whole world and preach the Gospel to every creature (Mk. XVI. is).

On a little reflection this is not strange. For, since God took on Himself human nature, we naturally expect Him to act in a way consonant with that nature. When men wish to solve a problem similar to the one which confronted Christ, they adopt the same means that He did. No body of Law, for example, is left to be interpreted by the individual. Such a procedure would result in chaos. No, a body of men are appointed to administer and interpret the laws. So too in every walk of life, be it business, pleasure or sport, societies are formed as the best means of attaining the required end.

Founded a Society.

So, in choosing out the twelve and giving them their mission, Christ founded a society, which He called His Chtirch. For a society may be defined as: ‘a union of intelligent beings entered into for the purpose of attaining a common good by united efforts, under the guidance of adequate authority.’ We see, then, that in every society there are four essentials. There must be : 1, a number of intelligent beings ; 2, a common object ; 3, united effort ; 4, common and adequate authority binding them together. Examine any society, no matter its purpose, and these four essentials are present. It must, of its very nature, contain them, otherwise it is not a society.

Now, the Church which Christ founded was in a true sense a society. After that first Whit Sunday it faced the world as a visible organisation. It contained in itself all the four essentials. As we have seen above, Christ singled out the twelve Apostles and sent them out to teach. Thus the first condition-’a number of intelligent beings’-is fulfilled. These men had one common object, the salvation and sanctification of souls. They were to carry on the work which Christ had started. They and He were united in one purpose ; “As the Father hath sent Me, so also, I send you.” (Jn. XX. 21.) ‘They had united effort and a common means to attain that end ; the teaching of Christ, obedience to His Commands and the observance of the precepts which He had taught. Finally, the members were bound together under the guidance of common and adequate authority. The Apostles were not to act independently of one another, but to govern by collective authority under the leadership of Peter. Christ did not intend each Apostle to have a separate Church and following. No, for He founded but one Church. Throughout the Gospels Christ refers to His Church, never once does He mention Churches. He explicitly states : “Upon this rock (i.e., Peter) I will build My Church” (Mt. XVI. 18). He does not say Churches. He also says that there shall be one fold and one shepherd (Jn. X. 16). Many times he likens it to a sheepfold, a kingdom, a city, thus showing unity of government. The Apostles understand and teach this unity of government. “One body and one spirit ; as you are called in one hope of your calling : One Lord, one faith, one baptism, one God and Father of all.” (Eph. IV. 3–6).

Hence we see that the Church was in a real and true sense a visible society. This and the fact that Christ founded only one Church are of utmost importance. For many people argue that Christ did not found a visible society but a somewhat vague and invisible union of all who profess belief in Him. They maintain that all Christians, though they confess a conflicting medley of beliefs, so long as they believe in Christ are following the path of salvation intended by Christ: They will not realize that. He, God Himself, definitely stated that He had founded one, visible Church which was to be the one ark of salvation for all.

Christ the Founder.

He who bestows on a society its four essentials is the founder of that society. It was Christ who gave to the Church those four essentials. Therefore, He is its founder. None other than He called together the twelve Apostles and the remainder of the disciples. Though others were admitted to the society by Baptism, it was He, though invisible, Who was its principal minister. A common object, the salvation of souls, was that of Christ who gave to the Apostles this work to do. The means by which this work was to be done, the doctrines to be believed and the precepts and rites to be observed, came directly from Him. Finally, the Apostles did not appoint themselves, nor were they appointed by the people. It was Christ who chose them and gave them, in His name, the right to demand and exact obedience. They were to teach in His name, with His authority. In a word, they were to be His representatives.

So far then, we have established this fact : Christ, in order that His Mission should continue until the end of time and be available for all men, founded one, visible society, His Church.

Christ founded but one Church. Any normal person reading the New Testament is bound to come to this conclusion. Yet, in the world today are a countless number of religious bodies each claiming to be that Church which God founded. They contradict one another in the interpretation of His teaching. Many deny beliefs professed by others, and yet they all claim to teach what He taught. That they cannot all be right is a self-evident fact. One of them must be, since He promised that the Society which He founded would exist, under His guidance, until the end of time. How then, are we to find this one, true Church?

We have already proved the New Testament to be a trustworthy historical record, and since it is in the Gospels that we find record of the founding Of the Church, we can also examine them to see if Christ gave to His Church any special attributes which would enable it to be easily found amongst the rival claimants. Nay, we feel convinced that He must have characterized His Church in a special way, for He, true God, foretold that many, other societies would arise, profess to teach in His name and mislead many. Therefore, in order to ensure that men could easily find the true way of salvation we can, naturally, expect Him to endow His Church with visible and easy means of identification. Did he do so?

The Church Imperishable.

First of all, Christ instituted the Church for the salvation of all men. Therefore, it must exist and preserve its special powers and characteristics until the end of time. If it should lose any of these qualifications it would not be able to do the work Christ intended ; in fact, it would cease to be His Church. Hence, the true Church must be Imperishable. There can be no doubt on this point, for Christ distinctly conferred this attribute on His Church : “Upon this rock I will build My Church, and, the gates of hell shall not prevail against it.”‘ (Mt. XVI. 18). The Church is an impregnable fortress built on a rock against which death, destruction and the powers of enemies shall beat in vain. There is no force either from within or without that can cause it to crumble or fall. When He founded the Church, Christ sent the Apostles to teach all men, to govern and sanctify them, and He, who was God, promised to be with them all days even to the end of the world. (Mt. XXVIII. 20). Until the end of time He would be with His Church protecting it from every evil. “I will ask the Father and He will give you another Paraclete, that He may abide with you for ever. (Jn. XIV. 16). He compares the Church to a field in which the wheat and the cockle grow side by side until the harvest, which He explains is the end of the world. So the Church must continue unchanged to the end. These promises made by Christ to the Society which He founded, guarantee that it shall remain imperishable until the end of the world, teaching, governing and sanctifying men.

The Church a Visible Society.

When the Church was founded it was established as a visible society-that is, a society which could be plainly perceived by men as an organised body consisting of teachers and taught, rulers and subjects, joined together in public worship and profession of beliefs. There can be nothing vague about it. Does He not liken it to a City set on a Hill? Further, He demands submission to its authority under pain of eternal damnation : “Going therefore, teach all nations, baptising them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the. Holy Ghost. . . . He that believeth and is baptised shall be saved ; but he that believeth not shall be condemned.” (Mt. XVIII; Mk. XVI. 16.) Again, Christ says: “If he will not hear the Church, let him be to thee as the heathen and the publican.” (Mt. XVIII 147.) No one could be obliged, under pain of eternal damnation, to hear and believe the teachings of the Church unless there were some means of recognising it as the true Church given authority to teach and govern.

Throughout the New Testament the Church is depicted as an external, visible society that may be known to all. It is a kingdom, a city, a house, a field. It is also the fold in which all the sheep and lambs find shelter. So, that we see that Christ’s Church is not, as is so often argued, an undefined union of believers. On the contrary, it is a visible, defined society that all may recognise. In Christ’s own words, it is a City set on a Hill.

So far we have established the fact that the Church is an imperishable, visible society. If this is so, then it must have certain visible characteristics, so distinctive that they cannot be found in any other society. The next step is to examine the nature of these characteristics.

The Church United.

The Church of Christ must be one. By this we, mean that it cannot be subject to division of any kind with regard to things essential. No material bonds can bind men together in a society. This must be done by moral bonds which unite the soul of men through the intellect and the will. Intellects are united by the acceptance of a common doctrine, wills are joined by submission to a common authority. The very existence of a society depends on this two-fold unity, unity of government which all accept, and unity of doctrine proposed to, and accepted by, all. Following directly from this comes a third. Internal acts naturally tend to show themselves outwardly. Hence, the internal acts of a man as a member of a society, his submission to its authority and acceptance of its teachings, will be expressed by external acts.

If we apply these principles to the Church we readily see that it must have: unity of government, unity of doctrines taught and believed, and unity of external acts symbolizing its doctrines and government. This latter we call unity of worship.

That Christ intended His Church to be united is obvious from His own words. Before His death, He prayed that it might possess the most perfect unity, that which existed between Himself and, His Heavenly Father : “I pray for them who also through their (The Apostles’) word shall believe in Me, that they may all be one, as Thou, Father in Me and I in Thee; that they may be made one in Us : that the world may believe that Thou hast sent me. And the glory which Thou hast given to Me, I have given to them : that they may be one, as we also are one. I in them and Thou in Me : that they may be made perfect in one; and the world may know that Thou hast sent Me, and hast loved them, as Thou hast also loved Me.” (Jn. XVII. 20–23). The unity of the Church is to be so evident, and so unique, that it is to afford a proof of the divine authority of Christ.

It is to be that three-fold unity of government, faith and worship. First, unity of Government. This means that there must be one supreme authority to which all the members are subject. This, in reality, is a .self-evident fact. In any society whatsoever, there must of necessity be one supreme authority. Sacred Scripture constantly represents the Church as a City, a; kingdom, a house. In this form it was instituted and must continue, for as Christ said “Every kingdom divided against itself shall be brought to desolation and house upon house shall fall.” (Lk. XI. 17.) And again, “Every city or house divided against itself shall not stand.” (Mt. XII. 25). Therefore, since the Church is to continue until the end of time, it must do so as a united kingdom. The Apostles insisted on this indivisibility of the Church. St. Paul’s Epistles are full of references to this unity which must, of necessity, exist in the Church since it is the Body of Christ. As in the body there is but one governing will, so too in the Church there is but one governing authority.

Secondly, unity of faith. This means unity of doctrines taught and their acceptance by those to whom they are taught. Christ commanded His Apostles : “Teach ye all nations. . . . teaching them to observe all things whatsoever I have commanded you.” (Mt. XXVIII. 19–20). He also promised the Spirit of Truth to bring to their minds all that He had taught. (Jn: XIV. 16.) The Church was to teach all the doctrines entrusted to Her ; teach them to all men and for all time. This was to be made possible by the unceasing guidance of the Holy Spirit. She cannot teach contradictory doctrines in different places or at different times. No, she must teach all truth as it is revealed to her, or as she becomes conscious of it. St Paul emphatically lays down this principle to his followers : Though we, or an angel from heaven, preach a Gospel to you besides that which we have preached to you let him be anathema. I say to you again : if anyone preach a Gospel besides that which you have received, let him be anathema.” (Gal. I. 8–12.) Because, as he explains in another Epistle, there is : “One Lord, one faith and one Baptism.” (Ephes. IV. 5.)

Thirdly, unity of worship. This follows directly from what we have seen above. Worship is nothing more than an external, practical manifestation of faith. The members are one in faith, therefore, they must be one in worship. Their unity of belief precludes the possibility of disagreement as to the way in which God is to be worshipped and man sanctified. All men are to enter the Church by the same Baptism. (Mt. XXVIII. 19.) All must partake of the same Eucharistic Bread. (Jn. VI. 54.)

Hence, besides being Imperishable and Visible, the true Church of Christ is distinguished by its three-fold unity of government, faith and worship.

The Church Holy.

Since Christ, was the Founder of the Church, for that very reason it must be Holy. Christ was infinitely holy ; therefore, it follows that His Church must possess that Holiness in an eminent degree. For as St. Paul says : “Christ loved the Church and delivered Himself up for it that He might sanctify it . . that He might present it to Himself a glorious Church not having spot or wrinkle, or any such thing, but that it should be holy and without blemish.” (Ephes. V. 25–27.) The sole reason for the existence of the Church is to produce sanctity in Her members and lead them to eternal life. Since this is so, it means that she must be holy in Her doctrines and Her members.

The doctrine which she teaches is not Her own, it is of divine origin. God, Himself, taught it. God, who was infinite holiness, commanded that this teaching should be given to all men. He, said to His Apostles : “Go ye into the whole world and teach the Gospel. . . . teaching them to observe all things whatsoever I have commanded you.” (Mt. XXVIII. 20.) All the ideals He had taught, He summed up in one “Be ye perfect, as also your Heavenly Father is perfect.”

Christ never said that all the members of His Church would be holy. In fact, He explained there would always be a mixture of good and bad in the Church. He compared it to a field of wheat oversown with cockle. Yet, it still, remains a wheat-field, until the time of the harvest. It is a net cast into the sea; it catches both good and bad fish which shall be separated only on the shores of eternity. Still, the good shall always predominate, it can never fail. For she has been guaranteed by Christ to be the good tree that bringeth forth good fruit. Since she is the bride of Christ, to use the comparison familiar to St. Paul, she must be adorned with sanctity befitting her Divine Spouse. She should also bring forth children worthy of such a union, children eminent for sanctity.

Furthermore, this sanctity must be an outstanding characteristic. She must prove Her Holiness in the way in which Christ proved His. To prove His Divine Mission and Holiness, Christ performed miracles. Therefore, it is to be expected that the sanction of miracles should attend the preaching and ministry of the Church. As a matter of fact, Christ promised this power, for when He sent out His Apostles, He said : “And these signs shall follow them that believe ; in My name they shall cast out devils: they shall speak with new tongues: they shall take up serpents: and if they drink any deadly thing, it shall not hurt them : they shall lay their hands on the sick and they shall recover.” (Mt. XVI. 17–18.) And we know the Apostles wrought miracles to prove their mission and confirm their teaching.

We have, therefore, another characteristic of the true Church. It must be holy as Christ its founder was holy.

The Church Universal.

Anyone who admits that Christ founded a Church to save all men must at the same time agree that He intended it to become universal and endure for all time. This universality was distinctly indicated by Christ when He said to His Apostles: “Go ye into the whole world and preach the Gospel to every creature.” (Mark; XVI. 15.) And again : “The Gospel of the kingdom shall be preached in the whole world, for a testimony to all nations.” (Mt. XXIV. 14.) Therefore, we see that the true Church of Christ must be Catholic or universal. That is, She must embrace all races and classes of men, for the command was to preach the Gospel to every creature. Not only that, but it must be universal in point of time. It was manifestly impossible for the Apostles themselves to teach all nations. That work was to go on until the end of time. For did not Christ promise His Divine Guidance until the end of the world? Further, this catholicity must be a characteristic of its teaching. For Christ commanded that She should teach all things whatsoever He had commanded. Therefore, the true Church must be Catholic or universal in place, time and doctrine.

The Church Apostolic.

Christ instituted but one Church through the ministry of the Apostles. To none other did He give any authority to organise a Church in His name. Therefore, the Church must be that identical Church established by Him, and therefore, Apostolic, i.e., founded upon the Apostles. Again, Christ committed the teaching of His doctrines to the Apostles and promised them His guidance to the end of time. Since Christ was God, He could not fail in these promises. Therefore, the teaching of the true Church must be that handed down from the Apostles. Again, the authority of the Church was vested in the Apostles alone. Consequently, it can be obtained only by lawful succession from those upon whom Christ personally conferred it, the Apostles. In other words, the Church must be Apostolic in Her ministry by means of an unbroken succession reaching back to the Apostles.

The Church Infallible.

Finally, the Church founded by Christ must be infallible. That is, she cannot err in teaching and interpreting, as of faith, the truths which He delivered into Her custody. Christ commanded that all men must accept the teaching of the Church under pain of eternal damnation. Therefore, He must in justice, provide against the possibility of men being led into error by following the teachings of that Church. Again, is it possible that Christ, eternal truth, could allow a single error to be proclaimed to the whole world in His name? Yet, this would be the case if the Church teaching in His name and with His authority were not protected from error.

That this prerogative of infallibility was to belong to the Church was distinctly promised by Christ. Did He not say that the Gates of Hell shall not prevail against it? In other words, nothing shall ever, assail the impregnable position of truth held by the Church. Further, when giving the Apostles their mission, He said : “All power is given to Me in Heaven and on earth. Going therefore, teach ye all nations. . . . teaching them to observe all things whatsoever I have commanded you; and behold I am with you all days even to the consummation of the world:” (Mt. XXVIII. 16–18.) In these words Christ conferred upon the Apostles unlimited authority to teach. They had to teach all nations all truths, for all time. It is evident that Christ is conferring a most extraordinary power. For He states that such a thing is possible only because He has all power in Heaven and on earth. He was giving them the authority to teach all nations and to demand, in His name, submission under pain of eternal damnation. In order that they should be immune from error He promises them His own abiding presence until the end of time. On the night before He died, He again promises this infallibility to His Church : “And. I will ask the Father, and He shall give you another Paraclete, the Holy Ghost, that He may abide with you for ever. . . . but the Paraclete, the Holy Ghost whom the Father will send in My name, He will teach you all things and bring all things to your mind whatsoever I have said to you. . . . I have yet many things to say to you, but you cannot bear them now, but when He, the Spirit of Truth, is come, He will teach you all truth.” (Jn. XIV. 16–17. ; XVI. 12–13.)

The Holy Ghost is to abide for ever with the Apostles and their successors, and lead them into all truth and preserve them therein. In other words, the Holy Ghost shall preserve the Apostles and their successors free from all error. He shall render them infallible. Christ had commanded His Apostles to teach ‘all things whatsoever 1 have commanded,’ now He promises them the Holy Ghost to keep these same truths ever before their minds, that they might teach, them without possibility of error. ‘He will bring all things to your mind whatsoever I have said to you.’ Could infallibility have been promised in clearer or more emphatic words?

Applying the Tests.

We have seen, so far, that Christ founded one, visible Church to continue His Work in the world. In order that all men, learned or unlearned, rich or poor, prince or peasant, might find it, He gave to it certain unique characteristics which can be possessed by it and none other. What these are we have seen above. As the duly accredited custodian and exponent of the revelation delivered by Jesus Christ, we have to look for a Church which has the following characteristics :

(1) It must be His Church. It must point to Him and none other as its founder.

(2) It must be visibly and organically one Body, holding one faith, under one government and united in one worship.

(3) It must be holy by teaching a Holy Doctrine, offering to all the means of holiness, and distinguished by the eminent holiness of so many thousands of her children.

(4) It must be world-wide in aspiration and fact. This universality must cover place, time and doctrine.

(5) It must hold the doctrines and traditions of the Apostles and trace back, in unbroken lines, the succession of its ministry from them.

(6) It must claim infallibility in matters of revelation, speaking with the authority of the Spirit of Truth.

Any Church, claiming, to be that one, true Church founded by Christ and unable to fulfil all the above conditions is clearly claiming a position to which it has no right. It now remains to apply these tests. It would be impossible to examine every Christian sect which makes that claim. It is not, however, necessary. For the first condition-’it must be His Church’-eliminates all but one. Of all the multitudes of religious bodies, the Catholic Church and the Catholic Church alone can,’ and does, point directly to Christ as its founder. No other can. It is a fact of history. For twenty centuries she has made that claim and no one has ever been able to discredit it. Of any Church, except Her alone, a founder can be named who came after the time of Christ, and the point of time after that of Christ can be given as the date of its foundation. Therefore, it is to this Church, which shelters within its fold more than half of the Christian world, that we must apply these tests.

The first point we have already dealt with. Take any history book and no other can be pointed to as the founder of the Church than Christ Himself.

That the Catholic Church possesses absolute unity of faith is obvious to anyone who will examine Her creeds, her decrees, her catechisms and books of instruction in which the same doctrines are laid down for each and every member of the Church throughout the world. Prince and peasant, rich and poor, learned and unlearned, priest and layman, hear and believe the teaching of Christ in all its integrity, clearly and plainly spoken even as He spoke it. There is no watering down of Christ’s doctrine to suit individuals or nations. There cannot be, since these doctrines were not instituted by the Church but by God, Himself, and the Church is but their guardian in the world. She has not the authority to change them. History shows that rather than betray the principles given into her keeping, by her Divine Master, she has been compelled to allow whole nations to shut themselves out of the true fold, as, -for example, happened at the Reformation. She could not compromise on her teaching when principles laid down by Christ were assailed, with the result that rather than submit to her God-given authority they cut themselves off from communion with her. The world may call her arrogant and unbending, but that is because they do not understand her true position.

For twenty centuries She has triumphantly preached all things whatsoever Christ commanded. Therein lies the miracle of her unity, that she, while teaching what is hard to believe, while prescribing what is hard to practise, while rejecting all compromise in faith or morals, yet she holds together four hundred million souls of diverse races and nationalities in willing submission.

If there is any one characteristic of the Catholic Church more widely known than any other, it is her unity of government. So well known is it, that Catholics are often unjustly accused of blind obedience to the Church. This unity of government is preserved by the exercise of one, supreme authority to which all give willing obedience in things spiritual. The people are subject to their priests, the priests to their bishops, and all to the Pope, who is the centre of authority and apostolic unity. All laws for the universal Church are enacted by that one supreme authority. Every part of the Church is in communion with every other part under the direction of the chief pastor, the Pope, just as the members of the body are united under one head. That must be so, since it is the form of government that Christ established for His Church.

Throughout the whole world, wherever the Catholic Church is, there is the same worship. Her Sacraments and the Sacrifice of the Mass are everywhere the same. . The highest and the lowest receive the self-same sacraments and take part in the same Holy Sacrifice. She is as absolute in regard to worship as she is in regard to faith. She will allow no alteration to her Sacraments. They are the means, given to her by Christ, for the sanctification of mankind. It is her duty to see that they are applied as He intended.

Therefore, we see that the Catholic Church possesses in a unique degree the three-fold unity required of the true Church of Christ. Others may argue and modify their doctrines to suit personal caprice or changing times, but She, the Pillar and Ground of Truth, steadfastly and fearlessly preaches to a hostile world all the doctrines of Her Divine Founder.

The pages of history bear witness to the eminent holiness of the Catholic Church. From the time of St. Stephen, the first martyr, until the present day, stretches a glorious line of martyrs and saints of every age and walk of life. From the time of the first missionaries, the Apostles, until now, men and women have cheerfully given up home comforts, their parents, and all that they held dear, in order that they might give to others that burning love of Christ which filled their hearts. Eminent sanctity shines forth in the daily lives of the many religious orders, who from love of God, cheerfully give up their lives to His service in hospitals, orphanages and other charitable institutions, and in the lives of those Contemplative Orders who devote their lives to unceasing prayer for the benefit of the whole world. They are the spiritual dynamo supplying the driving force to millions upon millions of souls. The history of civilization is a history of the leavening power of the Catholic Church. Her holiness triumphed over the paganism of the Romans, it tamed the fierce barbarians of the north, and built up the present structure of Christian civilization in Europe. . This structure which is at present being undermined by the growth of Neo-paganism, can be saved only by a return to those doctrines laid down by Christ, and taught fearlessly by His Church. The present unrest in the world is due to the fact that men have drifted away from the holy doctrine of Christ as preserved and preached by His representatives.

The cause of this sanctity is not far to seek. Every doctrine and precept is intended and eminently fitted to lead men to the practice of virtue and a life of holiness. This becomes more evident when it is realized that Her members are always holy in exact proportion to their faithfulness to Her teachings and precepts. But these cannot be anything else but holy, for they are those of Christ.

The outstanding sanctity of the Church is proved by a series of miracles reaching back to the time of Christ. Even today miracles are performed in the Church and performed under conditions that make them a confirmation of her doctrine and practices. The miracles performed at Lourdes, well authenticated by medical evidence, even, of unbelievers, are but one example of the many which take place in the Church. There is nothing strange in this fact of miracles, for Christ promised this gift to His Church, and it is His Guarantee of Her eminent holiness.

Therefore, we see that the Catholic Church possesses in a degree, which none other can have, the eminent holiness which must characterise the true Church. She is holy because she teaches a holy doctrine, offers to all the means of holiness and is distinguished by the eminent holiness of many thousands of Her children.

The Universality or Catholicity of the Catholic Church is admitted by all. Wherever the name of Christ is known and reverenced there also is the Catholic Church known. For this reason she is known as the Catholic Church. She is not confined to one nation or one people. She is not, and cannot be, a merely national church. Her mission is now, as it was at her foundation, to preach the Gospel to every creature. All her members in every country are united in the same Church. Besides being universal with regard to place, She is as universal in point of time. She has existed from the first moment of Christ’s foundation until, the present day. There is no break in her continuity. At no point in the history of Christianity is the Catholic Church absent. Furthermore, this Catholicity applies to her doctrine. Faithfully She carries out the command of Christ and teaches all that He commanded. She does not, and cannot, compromise on faith and morals in order to win public opinion, which is as inconsistent as the weather.

It is a historical fact, admitted by all, that no other See in the world but Rome is linked in unbroken succession to the days of an apostle. The Apostolic unity was centred, by Christ, in Saint Peter. He was the rock, he held the keys, he it was who received Christ’s own office of Good Shepherd. This authority has been held by his successors, the Popes, and is held by one of them today. As at the time of the Apostles, they formed one body under the leadership of Saint Peter, so too the same form of government holds authority in the Church today. Christ ordained that His Church should be governed, for all time, by St. Peter and his successors. Now, alone of all religious bodies, the Catholic Church can show that she is governed by the lawful successors of St. Peter. Therefore; She alone is Christ’s true Church. Also, since She derives Her authority from the Apostles,’ She teaches the doctrines and traditions given to them by Christ.

Finally, the Catholic Church alone of all the multitude of religious bodies, dares to claim that, since She is teaching in the name of Christ, she cannot fall into error in defining the truth of which She is the Guardian. Since Christ promised this prerogative to His Church, the true Church must make that claim. Yet, alone in the world She claims that Divine Infallibility from error. Others dare not, and cannot, make that claim. Their very history is a denial of this Divine Guarantee of Christ. Time after time they amend their doctrines to fit in with changing times, and not one of them dares to declare that in her teaching she is immune from error. This claim to infallibility is, of itself, a sufficient proof that the Catholic Church is the true Church.

What we have seen may be summed up very briefly. Christ founded a Church. He promised that it would exist until the end of time. Therefore, it is in existence today. In order that it might easily be identified, He gave to it distinguishing characteristics. No church can be His unless it possesses all these marks. In the Catholic Church, alone, are they fully realized. . Therefore, She is the true Church commissioned to carry the Gospel and the means of salvation to all nations until the end of time. She has received power and authority to fulfil this mission, and all men are obliged to accept Her teachings and submit to Her authority under pain of eternal damnation : “He that believeth not shall be condemned.”

Objections Answered.

Many times we are told that the Catholic Church was the true Church of Christ until the time of the Reformation, but then She had become so corrupt that She had lost Her original purity and so ceased to be the true Church. The reformed Church, it is claimed, took her place. It is not the place here to consider the causes of the Reformation. What we are concerned with is the allegation that Christ’s Church failed at that time. We have seen, and it is admitted by all, that Christ did found one Church and gave to it imperishable characteristics: He promised that that Church should not fail. He, who was God, promised that the Church which He founded should exist under His Guidance and be taught by the Holy Spirit, who should teach Her all truth. To make the claim that She failed is to assert that Christ failed. There is no middle course. Either Christ meant what He said when He promised Imperishability to His Church, or He did not. He guaranteed that His Church would never fail. Therefore, at no time in Her history could She do so. When people say that, at the Reformation, the Catholic Church failed they are asserting that Christ did not keep His Promise of Divine Guidance. This is equivalent to claiming that Christ was not God, and logically they must repudiate the whole of Christianity and Christ’s teachings.

Moreover, the reformed Church, though claiming to have taken the place of Christ’s Church, does not fulfil the essential marks necessary for the true Church. Besides, itself, repudiating all claim to infallibility, it denies the right of any church to make that claim. It neither holds the doctrines or traditions of the Apostles, nor can it claim Apostolic succession for its ministry. A purely national church, it can make no claim to universality of place, time or doctrine. Its history is a contradiction to any claim to unity of government, faith or worship. The eminent holiness essential to the true Church cannot be claimed by it. Though it is not claimed that its members are not holy, their personal holiness is due to the results of parts of the teachings of the true Church being maintained after the Reformation. Neither is its sanctity attested by the divine approval of miracles.

No, the Catholic Church exists in the world today as the divinely accredited custodian of revelation. She is the mother of whom we are justly proud. Holy Mother Church is our name for Her, because She is in a real and true sense our Mother. From the cradle to the grave She closely guides our footsteps in the path of Our Divine Lord so that in following Her teachings we may, ultimately, be one with Him, and She also is one with Him, her Divine Founder Nihil Obstat :

RECCAREDUS FLEMING, Censor Theol. Deput. Imprimi Potest :

EDUARDUS,

Archiep. Dublinen., Hiberniae Primas.

Dublini, 25 die Sept., anno 1939.

Communion of Saints

ALBERT P. HOLDEN

INDEX

Before they separated one from another, the Apostles summarized the main points of the teachings of their Divine Master into a formula of belief so that their teachings would be the same in the various countries in which they preached. In order to meet various heresies that arose between their time and the year 600 various clauses were added, but the framework goes back to the time of the Apostles themselves. For this reason this summary is known as the Apostles’ Creed, and then, as now, belief in it is the mark of the true Christian.

The essential doctrines of Christianity are to be found summed up in the Apostles’ Creed, that formula of belief which is known and recited by Catholics and non-Catholics alike. In its few words it contains all the mysteries of Faith. Like the body of a child contains the limbs of a full-grown man, or like a seed that contains the tree with all its branches, so this summary contains in their essence all the essential beliefs of those who acknowledge Jesus Christ as their Master and Teacher.

Towards the end of this Creed come the words, “I believe in the Holy Catholic Church, the Communion of Saints.” It is the purpose of this booklet to try to explain as fully and simply as possible what is meant by this profession of belief.

This part of the Creed, the ninth article, as it is called, on first examination, appears to contain two separate doctrines, but this is not so. The Catholic Church and the Communion of Saints are one indissoluble entity.

In previous booklets, ‘City Set on a Hill’ and ‘Upon this Rock,’ the foundation, divine authority, mission and organization of the Church were explained. Now, we must look at the Church in another light.

The whole purpose of Christ’s coming on earth is to be found summed up in St. John’s Gospel (X. 10.) “I am come that they may have life and have it more abundantly.” He had come to bring back souls to that life of union with their Heavenly Father; but He did not leave it at that,-later on, he clarified that statement and showed His followers where they could find this life: “I am the Life” (John XIV. 6.) Combining these two truths, it is clear that the follower of Christ must live in Christ, and Christ must live in him. St. Paul, that great Apostle, affirms this truth when he triumphantly exclaims, “I live, now not I, but Christ liveth in me.”

How close this union with Him is to be, Christ explains (John XV. 5.) in the parable of the Vine and the Branches. Being a Christian does not merely mean believing in Christ, not merely knowing what He taught, but an intimate union with Him. A union as close as that of the Vine and its Branches. “I am the Vine,” Christ says. “Abide in Me and I in you. As the branch cannot bear fruit of itself, unless it abide in the vine, so neither can you, unless you abide in Me. I am the vine: you the branches. He that abideth in Me, and I in him, the same beareth much fruit: for without Me you can do nothing.” (John XV. 1–5.)

How is the true follower of Christ to attain to this intimacy with Him? How can Christ live in us and we in Him? St. Paul, himself burning with love of His Divine Master, gives us the true answer in his Epistle to the Corinthians. (I Cor. XII. 12–27.) In a living body the cells may be said to live in the body: equally the body may be said to live in the cells. If then, we are cells in the Body of Christ then we can live in Him and He in us.

This is where the Church comes in. The Church is the Body of Christ, His Mystical as distinct from His natural body. (I. Cor. XII. 12–27.) When Christ was on earth, He acted with His natural body. He taught with His lips, healed with His hands, gave supernatural life with His breath. Now that He has left the earth, He works so longer in His natural body, but in His Mystical Body, the Church. This Church is joined to Him as really as His natural body. “You are the body of Christ,” explains St. Paul. Therefore, Christ lives in the Church, and the Church’s life is the Life of Christ. As every cell in the body of a living person lives the life of that person, so every member of the Church is, as it were, a cell in Christ’s Mystical Body, and thus a sharer in the Life of Christ. It is in this Body that Christ now acts in the world, as He once acted in His natural body.

It was on account of this real and organic union of His Church to Himself that Christ could say to Saul, “Why persecutest thou Me?” Not, “Why persecutest thou the members of My Church?” but “Why persecutest thou Me?”

This, then, is the Catholic Church. It is the union of all the faithful in the Life of Christ. He is the Vine, they are the branches, and as in a living body the cells and members cannot act independently one of another, and are useless unless they work and live in concord with the remainder of the body, so too, in this Mystical Body of Christ there is not and cannot be disunity or isolation.

The Church, we have stated, is a union of all the faithful. It includes both living and dead. Clearly those who followed Christ faithfully in their life on this earth, do not at death cease to be members of His Body. They, obviously, come to an even closer union with Him. Hence, the Mystical Body of Christ consists of those on earth living in a state of grace and those who have died in the friendship of God.

‘The latter are again in two classes or states. We are told in Holy Scripture that “Nothing defiled can enter Heaven.” That is, before a, soul can enter into the Presence of God, it must be free from all guilt and stain of sin. There are many whose lives though not blameless, have not been so wicked as to merit hell for all eternity. Therefore, reason tells us that there must be some place where these souls can be purified of the stain of sin and made worthy to enjoy the Presence of God. Moreover, St. Paul tells us there is such a place: “Many shall be saved, yet so as by fire” (Cor. III. 15.). The other class are those who are enjoying their eternal reward in Heaven-the Saints. So that in the Mystical Body of Christ are three states.

(1) The Church Militant, that is the ‘Church fighting,’ consisting of the faithful on earth who wage the unceasing battle for Christ against the devil, the world and the flesh.

(2) The Church Suffering, that is those who have died in the friendship of God, yet are not pure enough to enter into His Presence and are expiating the guilt of their sins in the cleansing fires of Purgatory.

(3) The Church Triumphant. As the name implies, these are the souls who have triumphed over evil, have reached their goal in Heaven and are enjoying their eternal reward. It is this union of the three States in the supernatural Life of Christ which constitutes the Communion of Saints.

It should be noted that these three states are not separate entities, but in reality one family, an immense family of which God is the Universal Father. In this family, Christ, the Son of man, is as it were, our elder brother. He has brought us back to the Father. He came on earth, worked, suffered and died and still continues to help us in our journey to our Heavenly home. The Saints in Heaven are those of our brethren who have after long journeying, reached their final goal, and who there help us. They know us, they are interested in us. They know the trials and difficulties we have to face, and loving us as they do, they constantly intercede for us.

Imagine a large family. The father is in complete charge of all. The eldest son in an expedition in which he sacrificed his life to save his brothers, acquired great treasure sufficient to ransom the others from slavery, and the means to return to their father’s home. Throughout the world some of the children have already returned to their home and have added their wealth to the common treasury. Others are on the way profiting by the help they receive one from another and which they receive from those who have gone before them.

This is a picture of the Catholic Church, the Mystical Body of Christ. God is the Father of the family; Jesus Christ is our eldest brother who ransomed us; Our Lady, the Apostles, the Martyrs and the Saints are our relatives, who, by a holy life and death have gone before us, and who by the example they have set and their constant intercession, are helping us, the remainder, to find the best way to the home of our Eternal Father in Heaven.

Besides being united in one body, the whole Church is united with Christ, as are the members of a body with the head. The same Holy Spirit works in all the members of the Church. “The soul,” St. Augustine says, “ animates the organs of the body, and causes the eye to see, the ear to hear, etc.” In the same way, the Holy Spirit works in and animates all the members of the Church who are in the state of grace. A wonderful explanation of this is to be found in Chapter XII of St. Paul’s 1st Epistle to the Corinthians. He explains that as in the human body every member has its own special function, yet works with and in close conjunction with the rest, so in the Body of Christ, every member has his own gifts and his own task to perform, not alone but conjointly with the other members. Again, as in the human body all members share the pleasure or pain felt by one, so, in the Communion of Saints. “If one member suffers anything, all the members suffer with it; or if one member glories, all the members rejoice with it.”

This point is one that should bring great consolation, since it shows us that the Saints in Heaven are not indifferent to our condition here on earth. They are not beings in some far-away state, who, seeing our trials and difficulties, cannot or do not want to help us. No, they are our brethren close to our Heavenly Father and constantly interceding for us.

Again, all the members of the Church on earth have share in the spiritual wealth of the Catholic Church and help each other by their prayers’ and good works. Here, in our every-day lives, we have a share in all the benefits and institutions of the country to which we belong. Unemployment and sickness benefits, pensions, law courts, hospitals, etc., are there for the well-being of each of us, and we have a right to share in them because we are members of that state. Again, in a more intimate way every member of a family shares in the common goods such as riches and honours.

If this is true of human institutions, in a far more perfect way does it apply to the Mystical Body of Christ. In the universal family of Christ every member has a share in every prayer, in every good work. A clear example of this is found in that perfect prayer which Our Lord laid down as the model of all prayers. The very first words, “‘Our Father, who art in Heaven.” indicate to us that we are praying not for ourselves alone. We say, “Our Father “ and not My Father because being brethren it is our duty to pray for one another. In this prayer, the individual prays for all, and all for the individual. Hence, we say, “Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our trespasses as we forgive them that trespass against us and lead us not into temptation but deliver us from evil.” Always using the plural because as Christ said, “All you are brethren” (Matt. XXIII. 8.) So too, is it with all the prayers of the Church.

The Holy Mass, that supreme act of Christian worship, in which a Christian pays to his Eternal Father the highest and most perfect worship, is a glorious example of this mutual help and petition in prayer. When the priest offers up the host which is later to become Christ’s Body, he prays, “Receive, Holy Father, Almighty God, this spotless host, which I, thine unworthy servant, offer unto Thee, my God, living and true, for mine own countless sins, transgressions and failings, and for all here present; as also for all faithful Christians living or dead; that it may avail both me and them unto health for life everlasting.”

Then, in the Canon of the Mass the priest asks God to bless the offerings and says, “ We offer them up to thee, first, for Thy Holy Catholic Church that it may please Thee to grant her peace, to watch over her, to bring her unity, and to guide her throughout the World; likewise for thy servant our Pope, and our bishop and for all true believers, who keep the Catholic and Apostolic faith.”

Now, he goes on to pray in a more particular manner, “Be mindful, O Lord, of thy servants, men and women (he mentions those for whom he wishes to pray), of all here present whose faith and devotion are known unto Thee. For them do we offer, or they do themselves offer unto Thee, this sacrifice of praise for them and theirs; for the redeeming of their souls; for the hope of salvation and wholeness, and do now pay their vows unto Thee, God everlasting living and true.”

The Holy Mass besides being the most perfect act of worship is also a vivid example of the doctrine of the Communion of Saints. A study of its prayers illustrates better than anything else the close union which exists between the Church Militant, Suffering, and Triumphant.

A simple comparison, once again with the human body, shows us how the members of the Church can give help one to another. In the body all the members and organs work in harmony, giving help one to the other, and it is only when this harmony is broken or one member fails to give its help to the remainder of the body that sickness occurs. Many times a sound organ comes to the rescue of one that is weaker, and the possession of a sound heart, good lungs or a healthy stomach very often helps the body to recover from what might very easily have been a fatal illness. Nor do the organs or members work for themselves alone; the eye sees that it may guide the hands and feet, the heart beats that it may supply life-giving blood to all parts of the body.

From this we can easily understand how the members of the Church, cells and members of the Mystical Body, help each other by their prayers and good works. In fact, we find many instances of this happening. In the Acts of the Apostles we are told how it was the prayers of the whole Church which saved St. Peter when he was cast, by Herod, into prison; how the prayers of St. Stephen brought about the conversion of Saul. It was the tears and prayers of St. Monica which drew St Augustine from a dissolute life and made him a great Saint. “Pray for one another that you may be saved,” says St. James, and St. Paul besought the prayers of his brethren, “I beseech you, therefore, brethren, through Our Lord Jesus Christ, and by the charity of the Holy Ghost, that you help me in your prayers for me to God.”

Prayer is a work of mercy, and as such is double-edged. It brings down a blessing not only on the one that prays, but also on the one for whom the prayer is offered. This important fact applies not only to prayer but also to all good works, as for example, fasting and alms-giving. As a man’s debts may be paid off by his neighbours, so too, in some measure, may the debt of sin be paid off by the good works of others. Thus in the early Church, we find penances were often entirely remitted or shortened at the intercession of the martyrs.

It is in the light of being able to help others by prayers and good works that the value of religious orders can be seen. Many persons, not all of them outside of the Church, consider that religious orders, particularly the contemplative kind, do not serve any useful purpose. It is not realized that these religious by their lives of penance and prayer, not for themselves but for the whole world, are, besides serving God in the most perfect manner, the spiritual dynamo, of the world. Without ceasing, their prayers rise up to God and He cannot fail to answer their requests and shower down His blessings on the world.

It was this fact which inspired, cheered and supported St. Francis Xavier, that great missioner of Christ. He knew that constantly the Church was praying for him and supporting him by Her good works. If anyone doubts the value of prayers and good works of the contemplatives for souls in the world he could find no better example than to read the life of the Little Flower, St. Therese of Lisieux. There is depicted a life of prayer and sacrifice for the salvation of souls in the mission fields.

When Christ was asked which was the greatest commandment, the answer was, “Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with thy whole heart, and with thy whole soul, and with all thy strength and with all thy mind, and thy neighbour as thyself.” (Luke X.) Later, just before He died, Christ said, “A new commandment I give unto you; That you love one another, as I have loved you, that you also love one another. By this shall all men know that you are My disciples, if you have love one for another.” (John XIII. 34.)

The world is to know the true disciples of Christ by the love they bear one to another. But this love is not, and cannot be, a mere expression of the lips. Love must show itself in actions. True love is not only willing but seeks out opportunities of service and sacrifice for the person loved. This is the type of love which must distinguish the followers of Christ. The true Christians love one another by wishing well to one another, by praying for one another and by helping one another in good works. In other words, this true way of loving our neighbour as ourselves is found in the mutual help we accord each other in the Communion of Saints.

Besides helping each other in the world by our prayers and good works we can apply this help to the souls in Purgatory. There is not space in this booklet for a full explanation of the teaching of the Church on the subject of Purgatory. That such a state exists is a reasonable belief. It was taught in the Old Testament and also in the New. Christ Himself speaks about it, (Matt. XII. 32.), and we are told, “Nothing defiled can enter Heaven.” (Appoc. XXI. 7.) Therefore, those members of the Church who have died in the friendship of God and yet who, owing to the guilt of sin on their souls, are not in a fit state to enter into God’s sight, are cleansed in the fires of Purgatory.

Once dead they can do nothing to help themselves, since “the night cometh when no man can work” (John IX. 4.) and they can no longer do good works to atone for their sins. Hence, they must endure the punishment which their sins have merited. They cannot help themselves, but we can help them. This fact was believed amongst the ancient Jews. After Judas had defeated Gorgias, he came with his company to bury the Jews who had been slain in the conflict. He found under their coats some of the votive offerings which they had, contrary to the law, robbed from the idols of Jammia. Judas at once prayed God that their sins might be forgiven and he sent offerings to Jerusalem for sacrifice to be offered for the sins of the dead. He did not consider their sins to be grievous for he considered that they who had fallen asleep with godliness had great grace laid up for them. The account ends up with these words, “It is therefore, a holy and wholesome thought to pray for the dead, that they may be loosed from their sins” (2. Mach. XII. 43–46).

In the writings of the early Fathers of the Church is found mention of the Apostolic custom of praying for the dead. Tertullian (160–240) writes, “the faithful widow prays for the soul of her husband, and begs for him in the interim repose, and participation in the first resurrection.” St. Augustine (354–430) recounts his mother’s words, “ Lay this body,” she said, “anywhere: let not the care of it in any way disturb you. Only this I ask of you, that you remember me at the altar of the Lord, wherever you are.” St. Cyril of Jerusalem (315–386) writes, “Then we pray for the Holy Fathers and Bishops who have fallen asleep before us, and for all who have died in our communion, believing that the souls for whom prayers are offered receive very great assistance.” St. John Chrysostom (344–407) declares, “Not in vain are oblations made on behalf of the departed: not in vain supplications; not in vain alms.”

Therefore, we see that it has been the unfailing belief of the Church from Apostolic times that we can help the souls in Purgatory by our prayers and good works. Can we possibly let their need go unanswered? They are suffering, they cannot do anything for themselves, yet it lies in our power to grant them aid. Any man who refused to help his brother in a need in which he could not help himself would rightly be despised by his fellow men. The souls in Purgatory are our brethren in the Mystical Body of Christ and they have a claim on our help. “Prayer,” St. Augustine says, “ is the key by which we open the gates of Heaven for the suffering souls.” The Council of Lyons (1274) laid it down that we on earth can help to diminish their pain by Masses, by prayer and alms-giving and other works of piety.

The Holy Mass is offered not only for the living but also for the dead. Every day in this supreme act of worship the priest prays, “Be mindful also, O Lord, of Thy servants and handmaids (here he mentions those for whom he specially wishes to pray), who are gone before us with the sign of faith, and rest in the sleep of peace. To these, O Lord, and to all that rest in Christ, we beseech Thee grant a place of refreshment, light and peace.” Then there are days on which Mass is said especially for the souls of the faithful departed, and each year the Church sets aside one day on which every priest is allowed to say three Masses for the help of our suffering brethren.

Besides at Mass, the Church constantly in Her other services prays for them. Hence, we see that not only can we help these members of the Church by our prayers, but we are encouraged and guided in this matter by the Church. It is only reasonable that since they are our brethren, with a claim on our charity, we should pray for them and aid them by our good works. Moreover, we should be wanting in our duty if we failed them in their hour of need.

To the true Catholic, prayer for the souls in Purgatory is not an onerous duty but an act of love. Again, if viewed in no other light, these prayers can be regarded, shall we say, as an insurance policy for ourselves when we too have died and need all the help we can get. If we have helped the Holy Souls with our prayers when they needed them, they cannot and will not be indifferent to our need later on. If we have aided them to reach their eternal goal Heaven they, in turn, will by their constant intercession help us to reach ours. They will certainly aid those who help them in their time of sore distress and unceasingly their prayers will rise like incense before the throne of God.

Moreover, it should always be remembered that prayer is a double-edged weapon. It must bring down blessings not only on the one who is prayed for, but also on the one who prays. It is also a work of mercy, and as Christ said, “Blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy,” and He accepts every deed of mercy as done to Himself. Therefore, they who have exercised this work of mercy towards the souls in Purgatory shall, themselves, find merciful God. “It is a holy and wholesome thought to pray for the dead that they may be loosed from their sins.”

So far we, have considered that the Communion of Saints is the union of all the members of the Church in Heaven, in Purgatory and on earth. We have also seen that the faithful on earth can help not only one another by their prayers and good works but also the souls in Purgatory, and that they all have a share in the treasury of the spiritual wealth of the Church.

Our next consideration deals, with the Church Triumphant, that is, those who have reached their final goal in Heaven. This triumphant legion consists of Our Lady and all the Saints. We are apt at times to call saints just those who have the word saint attached to their name. This is a mistaken idea, for all those who have reached Heaven are saints. True, there are a great number who have lived outstandingly great and heroic lives in the service of Christ, and who have been specially chosen out by God to be our models; who by the lives they have lived and their glorious fidelity to the love of God, have left behind them sure way for us to follow and as such are held up to us by the Church that we may imitate them. Yet it should be borne in mind that all who have merited Heaven are also saints and known as such by the Church, who on November 1st commemorates their memory in the Feast Day of All Saints. The fixing of the word, saint, before any of their names, means that the Church infallibly declares that that person is in Heaven, can be publicly prayed to and honoured and should be an inspiration to us in our own work-a-day lives.

Each and every one of us can find a model in the Saints, for they are from every walk of life and every age. They were not superhuman men and women but ordinary people who in a full and real sense understood and lived in the Communion of Saints. Their guiding principles were the two great Commandments laid down by Christ-an overwhelming love of God, and for His sake an intense love of their neighbour.

All those souls then, who have reached their eternal goal in Heaven, constitute the Church Triumphant. Since they have gained eternal and full happiness in Heaven, their state is fixed for all eternity. They have the fulfillment of all their desires and consequently are in no need of our prayers, but they can and do help us by theirs.

Since then, they are members of Christ’s Mystical Body, they cannot be indifferent to the fate of their brethren on earth, who are still fighting the self-same fight which they fought and won. They know, since they have experienced them, the trials and difficulties which we have to face. Since they are special friends of God, and have merited His reward, they know that He will refuse nothing they ask of Him. “The continual prayer of a just man on earth avail so much.” (James V. 16.) but how much greater must be their continual prayer in Heaven for us. “If,” says St. Jerome, “the Saints had such power when in the flesh, what can they not obtain for us now they have secured their victory!”

Sometimes it is objected that praying to the Saints takes away from God the honour that is due to Him. This is not so. We know the Saints are special friends of God, and by paying honour to them we are giving greater honour to their Creator, because we realize that without Him they could have done nothing, It was simply and solely by corresponding with the graces He showered on them that they lived such lives of heroic sanctity. Yet it is sometimes argued that we can, and ought, to go direct to God with our prayers and petitions. We know full well that the Saints of themselves can do nothing. When we pray to them, we ask them to use their powerful influence with God on our behalf. After all we do exactly the same thing in our everyday lives. If we want a very special favour from someone, often we ask a close friend of his to put in a good word for us, because we are confident that his intimacy will stand us in good stead.

In praying to the Saints we adopt this principle. It is their nearness to God, and the fact that they have merited His reward which gives us confidence in their intercession. Moreover, as we have seen, prayer to the Saints is a logical part of the Communion of Saints. We are asking our triumphant brethren to help us.

History and our own experience show us how great is the power of the Saints on our behalf. Countless miracles have been granted in every age by asking the intercession of the Saints. The Council of Trent defined this teaching of the Church:”The Saints who reign together with Christ, offer up their own prayers to God for men. It is good and useful suppliantly to invoke them, and to have recourse to their prayers and help for obtaining benefits from God, through His Son, Jesus Christ, who alone is Our Own Redeemer and Saviour. Those persons think impiously who deny that the Saints, who enjoy eternal happiness in Heaven, are to be invoked; who assert that they do not pray for men; who declare that asking them to pray for each of us in particular is idolatry, repugnant to the Word of God, and opposed to the honour of One Mediator of God and men, Christ.”

This belief in the power of the Saints to help us by their intercession is to be found in many places in the writings, of the early Fathers of the Church. St. Cyril of Jerusalem (315–386) writes, “ We then commemorate those who have fallen asleep before us, patriarchs, prophets, Apostles and Martyrs in order that God, by their prayers and intercessions, may receive our petitions.” St. John Chrysostum (344–407) writes: “When thou perceivest that God is chastening thee, fly not to His enemies, but to His friends, the martyrs, the Saints and those who were pleasing to Him, and who have great power.”

We believe that every prayer we offer, and every prayer in Heaven of the Blessed Virgin, the Angels and the Saints have their efficacy only through Jesus Christ Our Lord. The Saints simply add their prayers to ours, and although specially pleasing to God on account of their great holiness, they aid us only through the merits of Our Lord.

In conclusion, let us briefly sum up what has been said of the Communion of Saints. It is the union of all the faithful in the Mystical Body of Christ. A union of all the faithful, that is those on earth, in Purgatory and in Heaven. As Christ worked on earth in His natural body so now the Church has become His Mystical Body, of which all members in the state of grace live His Life. By baptism we are admitted, to this close intimacy with Our Divine Lord. We are cells in the Mystical Body, and if we correspond with divine grace we can, like St. Paul, triumphantly exclaim, “I live, now not I, but Christ liveth in me.”

As members of Christ’s Body we share in the prayers and good works of all the others, and we too help them by ours. We can also help in the same way the souls in Purgatory. The Saints in Heaven, the Church Triumphant, are also our brethren who love and cherish us, and by their constant intercession help us on our way to Our Heavenly Father.

This ninth Article of the Creed, “I believe in the Holy Catholic Church, the Communion of Saints,” ought to be a source of great consolation to us. It teaches us that no matter how great the difficulties and trials that beset us, we have not to face them alone. When all the world seems dark and no ray of hope can pierce the blackness, the fact that the Church is constantly supporting us by Her prayers and good works, and that we have powerful friends in Heaven who will bring us solid and lasting comfort.

NIHIL OBSTAT:

RECCAREDUS FLEMING, Censor Theol. Deput.

IMPRIMI POTEST

@ IOANNIS CAROLUS, Archiep. Dublinen.,

Hiberniae Primas.

Dublini, 7 die Aug., anno 1941

Companion For Youth

ST. BERNADETTE MONSIGNOR JOHN T. MCMAHON, M.A., PH.D

INDEX

“I Made Myself a Little Soldier”

“It is some years since I made myself a little soldier, though an unworthy one, of Your Holiness. My weapons are prayer and s acrifice and I will use them to my last breath. Then the prayer of sacrifice will fall away, but the weapon of prayer will follow me to Heaven.”

-Letter of Bernadette to the Holy Father.

CHAPTER I

St. Bernadette: A Friend for Youth

MY dear boys and girls, young men and women growing up, teenagers, as we have learned to call you, I am writing this pamphlet for you, and I am asking Mary, the Immaculate Spouse of the Holy Ghost, that you may read it, think it over, and adopt its plan of tak ing Bernadette to your heart as a worthwhile companion to be with you during these difficult growing-up years.

Our Lady looked like a beautiful young girl of sixteen or seventeen years when she appeared to Bernadette. The youth and beauty of the apparition captivated Bernadette. Mary chose as her confidant a girl of thirteen years. She rewarded Bernadette’s absolute trust in her by keeping her young in heart and youthful in appearance. A priest, Father Cros, who saw her as a postulant at Nevers, tells us:

“To look at her you would say that she is just the same child of thirteen years that she was at the time of the Visions. I do not think it would be possible to find a child of thirteen years with a younger face than Bernadette has at the age of twenty-one. Her youth has a supernatural charm that it is impossible not to feel, she herself is a Vision.”

Bernadette was tiny, only four and a half feet tall. She looked younger than her years and behaved like a happy, bright young girl throughout a life of stress and strain and suffering until she died at the age of thirty-six.

Mary appeared as a young girl in order that youth of an age with her might not be frightened to confide in her. She made a confidant of a girl of thirteen that boys and girls of a similar age group may come naturally to her. And lest some may find difficulty in ap proaching Mary directly because of her great holiness, she recommends to youth that they may come indirectly to her through Bernadette, her own confi dant and messenger. That is the idea I propose to you, adolescents, namely, that you come to Bernadette, make her your companion and confidant, and ask her to bring you to Mary and Mary will then lead you to her Divine Son.

Delinquent youth need a Bernadette to answer their troublesome questions and to give them a motive, a purpose, and an ideal t o fight for. They are in revolt and ask:”Why should we obey our parents and teachers or those in authority?” “Who will thank us for going straight, or who will recognize us for living clean?” “Why should we discipline ourselves at all or submit to any rules and regulations? Who cares what happens to us?” My dear youth, let Bernadette answer all these and similar questions.

“I MADE MYSELF A LITTLE SOLDIER”-ST. BERNADETTE

In a letter to the Pope, written on instructions from her Bishop, she said: “I come to you, Holy Father, like a poor little child to the tenderest of fathers, full of submission and confidence. What can I do, Holy Father, to show you my filial love? I can only go on doing what I have been doing up to now, that is to say, suffer and pray. It is some years since I made myself a little soldier, though an unworthy one, of Your Holiness. My weapons are prayer and sacrifice and I will use them to my last breath. Then the weapon of sacrifice will fall away, the weapon of prayer will follow me to Heaven.

“I hope that our good Mother will have pity on her children and that she will deign once more to place her feet upon the head of the cursed serpent and thus put an end to the cruel sufferings of the Holy Church and to the sorrows of its august and well-beloved Pontiff.”

Bernadette from her childhood determined to become “a little soldier” to fight for the Pope with her “weapons of prayer and sacrifice.” She had something to fight for, a thing bigger than herself, a real crusade to join with enthusiasm. She looked upon the Pope as the Commander-inChief directing the war against Satan on so many fronts. He needed soldiers so badly to fight for him with the prayer of petition and the prayer of sacrifice, to plead for him and to suffer for him, to ask for him and to give for him. She saw the Mystical Body of Christ attacked by Sataninspired enemies. She saw the cruel sufferings of the Church which caused such sorrow to Christ’s Vicar on earth. In answer to the invitation in Christ’s words: “Greater love than this no man hath, that a man lay down his life for his friends,” she devoted her young life to the Church and its mission to save souls. Hers was a short life, just thirty-six years, but they were years of prayer and sacrifice which were a true martyrdom.

ENROL UNDER THE BANNER OF BERNADETTE

Today the plight of the Church is more terrible than in Bernadette’s time. The Church of silence, the Church in chains, the Church behind the Iron curtain and in the Soviet-dominated lands is suffering as never before. The communists’ hatred of the Pope and his children is diabolical, fanned into destroying flames with blasts from hell.

Here is a cause to fight for, a crusade that demands love and devotion, loyalty and service, courage and generosity to an her oic degree. Enrol under ‘Bernadette’s banner and face something bigger than yourselves, a call to get out of yourselves, a campaign that will make you fo rget your own little needs, and will urge you to put the Pope and the Church above selfish gain and selfish pleasure.

To serve beside Bernadette is to follow her example. She obeyed:, so must you. She had pluck and that must you develop. She kept her powder dry, that is, she cared daily for her weapons, she used them constantly.

BERNADETTE OBEYED HER QUEEN

A soldier must obey and if he fails in obedience he fails in all. The source of delinquency is that youth have no motive strong enough, no sanction compelling enough, to help them accept the difficult discipline of obedience to parents, to teachers, to Church, and to State. Obedience is the virtue and discipline they need most.

Our Blessed Lord was obedient even unto death. At Nazareth “He was subject” to His parents for thirty years. From the Annunciation when Mary pronounced her all-powerful “Fiat mihi,” “Behold the handmaid of the Lord. Be it done unto me according to Thy Will,” her life became an absolute surrender’ to the Will of God. Men and women have fashioned themselves into saints through the austere grandeur of a loving obedience.

During the Apparitions Our Lady must have spoken to Bernadette of the value and virtue of a willing and joyful obedience. Bernadette obeyed The Lady in facing her parents’ scorn at home, in the interviews with the parish priest, and in her calm and unruffled acceptance of her companions’ doubts and jeers. When the parish priest forbade her to attend the first big ceremony at the Grotto, her companions urged her to go, but Bernadette obeyed her pastor, and showed not the least sign of resentment. just imagine the scene a modern girl would create in her home were she in Bernadette’s place! After all, Bernadette was the star in the “Lourdes Affair.” Her name and pictures were known throughout France. Why should she be ordered to stay away from the Grotto she had put on the front page of the nation’s news? How plausible, how convincing to worldly minds, but not worth considering to Bernadette who loved The Lady and because of that love obeyed her parish priest. In obedience to her superiors in the convent at Nevers, Bernadette never mentioned Lourdes to the Sisters of the community, or to visitors, unless commanded to do so.

BERNADETTE’S WEAPON OF PRAYER: THE ROSARY

A good soldier looks after his weapons, cleans them and tests them and keeps them near him, ready for any emergency. A soldier without his weapons is a burden on his battalion. He is useless to them in the fight.

Bernadette assured the Pope that she was his “little soldier,” and promised him to use to her dying breath her weapons of prayer and penance. She dedicated her life to the constant use of her two weapons, and when death opened the gate of heaven to her soul, she promised to continue using her weapons of prayer for his intentions.

Her chief weapon of prayer was the Rosary. She had learned the prayers that compose the Rosary within the family circle, and the beads were her constant companion. It is no wonder that at the big startling moment of the first Apparition she instinctively did what so many Catholics do in a sudden crisis-”dived for the beads.” How reassuring it must have been to Bernadette to see The Lady carrying a Rosary of white beads on a golden chain, suspended on her right arm 1 How awful it would have been had Bernadette left her beads at home

My dear young people, resolve now to have “the beads on your person” as a rule of Catholic living. Boys, consider your pockets empty unless you can feel your beads. Girls, check your bag before you leave home and make sure the beads are in it. Boys and girls, you should be as faithful to this rule of carrying your beads as a Protestant friend of mine who has walked back from the bus queue on discovering that he had not put his beads into his change of suit.

As a young priest I went each week to give religious instruction to the boys of the Christian Brothers’ College, Perth. I always concluded my talk with a call: “Show me your beads, boys.” We arranged a mutual fine. A boy without his beads paid one penny towards the Bushies’ Scheme. If I did not have my beads I paid a shilling. I got more pennies than the boys got shillings. But one Saturday morning as

I was swimming in Crawley baths a group of the boys saw me, swam out to me, and one of them, now Father Edward Bryan of the Diocese of Geraldton, asked, “Where is your beads, Father?” I paid the shilling but ruled such a situation out in future. I have met many of those boys in later life, and they assure me that although they had forgotten most of what I had told them, this admonition remained, and they never leave home without searching in their pockets for their beloved beads.

MARY’S AUTOBIOGRAPHY: THE ROSARY

Bernadette was not very bright in school, she found it very difficult to learn the Catechism, in fact, she was considered a dull child. But she learned her prayers in the family circle and the Rosary became part of herself. She concentrated on the events of Mary’s life and thought about them as she said the vocal prayers. That early training in meditation helped her in later life to make a mental pilgrimage every day to the Grotto at Lourdes. She found more consolation and help from this pilgrimage in the mind than an actual visit to the Grotto would have given her.

The Rosary, my dear young people, is Mary’s autobiography, breaking to us, through meditation, the news of her life story, revealing the thoughts that filled her heart during the great events in the life of her Son, the Sorrowful, Joyful, and Glorious Mysteries. If you wish to be devoted children of Mary honour her by a daily Rosary. You may spread the five decades throughout the day, saying a decade or two in the bus, others walking outside during lunch hour or quietly sitting alone. On Mary’s big feast days she will be delighted to receive the whole fifteen Mysteries as a feast day gift. These fifteen decades should be staggered, it is too much to attempt them all at one time.

THROUGH MARY TO JESUS

Remember always that the main basis of devotion to Mary is her relationship with Jesus. Written in large letters within the Rosary Church at Lourdes are the words: “Per Mariam ad Jesum,” “Through Mary to Jesus.” The Virgin Mother bore God’s greatest Gift to mankind. He was in her arms in the stable. He nestled close to her heart in the flight into Egypt. With her He dwelt at Nazareth. She stood besi de the Cross on Calvary. “Thou hast borne Him in thy heart: thou hast followed Him from Bethlehem to the Cross of Calvary. He is doubly thine-by the holiest love and the divinest sorrow. Henceforth forever His adorers must be thy servants.”

Look upon the Rosary in your pocket, or in your bag, as the weapon which you can draw when Satan with smiling eye would tempt you. Get your hand quickly on the beads, and the feel of them will assure you that you have Mary beside you to fight with you and for you. Never go to bed without the beads either on you or near by, a weapon ready at hand to dispel the first whispered invitation to sin. Satan does not sleep.

During the Apparitions Bernadette wore the Miraculous Medal around her neck. Follow her example and you have an additional cl aim on Mary’s special protection.

BERNADETTE’S WEAPON OF PENANCE

We are living in an unholy age. Although it is the age of Mary it is also the age of Satan. And Satan is having a frightening success with youth. This is evident in many ways.

Satan’s main target today is youth. Think about this, my dear young people, and see what you can do to outfight Satan.

Bernadette’s second weapon was penance. She accepted willingly the pain of body and humiliation of soul which were hers from her thirteenth year to her death at the age of thirty-six. She was a very sensible girl and faced the facts that The Lady told her: “I do not promise that you will be happy in this world but in the next.” Later, in the convent at Nevers, when she was no longer able to help in the infirmary, or in the sacristy, she said: “My job is to be sick.” That is the real song of Bernadette, the song of resignation.

Self-denial, self-discipline, self-control, self-mastery are not easy but are essential if you would build yourselves into what God expects you to be. Bernadette is a wonderful, encouraging, and bright companion to call to your side, someone of your own age, young in spirit, full of fun, but determined to become a saint.

The Apparitions convinced Bernadette that the hope of seeing The Lady was worth more than anything which Satan could offer in sensuality and pleasure. She was always most emphatic about the Lady’s beauty. When asked later throughout the years, whether she was as beautiful as so-and-so or so-and-so, she used to say: “They can’t make to it.” This was her patois way of saying: “They are not in it. My Lady is beautiful . . . beautiful . . . more than anything “

Thou art beautiful, Mary, and original sin is not in thee. Sinlessness is a thing of beauty and the only totally sinless, pure, human creature was to show her heavenly beauty at Lourdes-the stainless, beauty of the Immaculate Conception. God takes pleasure in no beauty like the beauty of a pure sinless soul. Lourdes teaches the pilgrim to hate sin as revoltingly ugly.

THE MASS IS THE ARENA

Bernadette brought the fight to discipline herself, the battle for self- mastery, into her praying of the Holy Mass and so must you. Life is a daily fight along three fronts, physical, mental, and spiritual. You must pay the little daily tax of discipline on all three planes of life if you would achieve the full flowering of yourselves. Neglect to discipline yourselves and you dig the graves of your higher possibilities. You will remain mediocrities unless in mind, body, and spirit you are determined to build yourselves from within. The Chinese have a proverb: “You cannot carve rotten wood.” Neither can you carve a strong character out of a selfish, indolent, “having a good time,” way of life.

Life is a daily fight against yourselves. You are called upon to govern your thoughts, to curb your impatient tongues, to restrain the eager curiosity of your eyes, to close your ears to sexy talk, to say “no, you cannot have that” to many an attractive invitation, to practise the “soft answer” in the hope that you may win the person instead of the argument, to be courteous and good mannered, which costs many acts of selfdiscipline, to listen patiently when you want to talk, to say a kindly word or do a generous act to someone who has been nasty to you, and to pat another on the back for some success. Each day calls for many small victories over self.

CREATE A SPIRITUAL CREDIT BALANCE

You will build yourselves into holier and better persons by bringing this fight into the Mass, where you will pray the Holy Spirit to shed His Light on your shortcomings and grant you courage to tackle them. This is no soft enterprise. No, it issues a daily challenge, and promises you the rare joy of achievement. At each Mass you offer, put upon the Paten your resolve to avoid this and do that, this very day. Whenever you score a small victory over self, store it for the Chalice, and deposit it in the Chalice as a spiritual credit balance upon which you can call when in need.

Through the guidance of the Holy Spirit you can make the Mass a spiritual exchange where you may bargain with your small gifts for something better, something richer. Self-discipline is a nasty medicine to take, but once you realize its purchasing power you take it with a better relish. Discipline is a coin with which we buy something worth while. This idea of the Mass as a spiritual credit balance and exchange can sow seeds of holiness in your lives.

CHAPTER II

THE LORD LOVES A CHEERFUL GIVER THE BISHOP OF NEVERS WRITES

“Bernadette conquers you by her mystery, her simplicity, her purity, her suffering and by the strange charm of a holiness that can be sensed and felt and that nevertheless retains the secret of its mystical life, as is, indeed, always the case when the divine touch is sensibly present.”

That is what I hope for, that you, teenagers, will be captivated by this most attractive girl, with her deep brown eyes and her wonderful sense of humour. Bernadette was a very likeable girl who enjoyed simple things. She would be an ideal companion to take on a picnic, enthusiastic, vital, interested, and awake to the humorous side of things. She never looked her years or carried them heavily. Indeed, one might look upon her as a Peter Pan among the canonized.

SHE LIKED BRIGHT COLOURS

She liked to be happy and to wear bright colours. She was dress conscious as our girls are today. An eye-witness reports an occasion when Bernadette was surprised “working on a dress to enlarge it and give it the appearance of a crinoline,” and the observer, shocked at this “tendency towards dress,” reported that it was much too worldly for a girl who had seen Our Lady. Bernadette just laughed and continued with her sewing.

Bernadette was between two fires. On the one hand there were many adoring admirers seeking a lock of her hair, or a piece of her dress, ardent fans as we have today, and, on the other hand, there were her severe critics who in their zeal tended to forget that she was only a young girl. If she wanted to press and iron her Sunday dress so that she would look smart, they frowned upon it. She was never left in peace, and yet, her youth and natural vivacity would break through and sparkle. Her sense of fun never deserted her.

Bernadette was lively and happy and she was not above a little mischief. One day at school when silence reigned in the class, a child suddenly sneezed, followed immediately by another, and then a third, until finally it sounded as though the whole class was sickening for a mass cold. But suppressed giggling soon indicated that there was no cause for misgiving. In fact the cause was quite different. Bernadette had been prescribed the use of snuff for her asthma- and she had handed her snuff-box round the class!

SMALLEST NUN AT NEVERS

At her reception at Nevers, dressed in white and wearing a long veil, she walked at the head of forty-four other aspirants. She went ahead of the others “only because she was the smallest of all.” Naturally, all present turned their eyes to her to distinguish her amongst her companions. But Bernadette wanted to hide herself. Afterwards when the hour for recreation arrived, Bernadette, now Sister Marie- Bernard, naively enquired: “Can you skip when you’re in the Novitiate? I do love to hold the rope for others.” Imagine the arched eye-brows of the French Mistress of Novices when this bit of innocence was reported to her! Skipping, indeed, how did she ever get into our convent!

A new postulant arrived at Nevers, and said: “How I would like to see Bernadette!” Bernadette was standing close by. “This is she,” said an older nun. “That?” said the postulant, before she could stop herself. “Merely that,” said Bernadette, as she held out her hand with her sweet smile.

Some rash person told her that they were selling her portrait at Lourdes for a penny. She laughed gaily, not because her portrait was on sale, but because of the penny. “It’s all I’m worth,” she owned.

She found book learning very difficult and her natural humility made it a constant source of regret for her. She was heard to exclaim on one occasion when her memory and her knowledge had failed her: “You could more easily throw the book at my head than hammer that lesson in.”

All the time she and her family refused to accept the presents visitors wanted to give her. “I’m not a shopkeeper,” she would say. For those who asked her to autograph holy pictures, she wrote in her careful childish handwriting “P.P. Bernadette”-(“Priez pour Bernadette”) “Pray for Bernadette,” and before long this led to her companions giving her the odd nickname of “Pepe Bernadette.”

A HUMOROUS MIMIC

She feared her parish priest of Lourdes, Abbe Peyramale, “more than a policeman.” But she faced him and delivered the Lady’s message that he should build a church at the rock at Massabielle, organize processions there, and encourage the people to come in great numbers. Picture the face of the testy old pastor on hearing this strange request! The child was quickly ushered to the door and chased home. Bernadette was a gifted mimic and had her family in fits as she “did” the parish priest and mimicked his grunts and growls.

Later she laughed when Father Peyramale endorsed a procession but forbade her to attend. He got sick himself and could not attend either. “Father Peyramale forbade me to attend the procession,” she said, “but the Blessed Virgin caught him out; she sent him a fine bellyache, which prevented him from attending himself.”

She was unafraid of threats of prison after eight days of examination by the Magistrate, M. Rivers, and laughed when he told her he was going to send her to goal for causing “all those crowds!” “I am ready,” she said, “Put me in prison, but make certain that the locks are strong, or I shall escape.”

ALWAYS GLAD TO SEE CHILDREN

She escaped the attention of the curious whenever she could. “O Sister,” some visiting ladies cried yearningly to the unknown sacristan, “might we just see Bernadette?” Bernadette smiled, bowed, and went to fetch herself, but failed to find her. “What,” her sisters once said to her. “You are hiding from the Bishop. And you could get forty days’ indulgence if you kissed his ring.” “O, well-’My Jesus Mercy,’ There I have got a hundred!”

The day when she accompanied some Sisters to the little holiday house she loved because the river and trees reminded her of Lourdes, she was sent for as some Bishops had come to inspect her. “These excellent Bishops,” she said with a charming little air of petulance, “would be wise to stay in their dioceses and let us alone. We were so comfortable here.”

The only ones whom she was really glad to see were children.

Her heroic trust in God, allied to her God-given humour and sense of fun, helped Sister Marie-Bernard to keep going throughout her trials. She had plenty of common sense and a natural spring of good humour which could bubble over into pure joy. For instance, her snuff-box-the doctor had prescribed snuff to ease those terrifying bouts of asthma which racked her frail frame, choking her so cruelly that she would gasp out in agony: “Open my chest.” She produced her snuff box at recreation one day, to the great scandal of a Sister. She cried out: “Oh, Sister MarieBernard, you will never be canonized.” “Why not?” asked the “snuffer.” “Because you snuff. That bad habit almost disqualified St. Vincent de Paul.” “And you, Sister Chantal,” twinkled Sister

Marie-Bernard in reply, “you are going to be canonized because you don’t indulge.” The story recalls that day in the class room at Lourdes when Bernadette sent the snuff around the class and had them all sneezing.

In the infirmary one day, a pot of milk heating on the fire suddenly boiled over. The Sister Infirmarian rushed to the rescue, crying: “The milk is escaping.” From her sick bed Sister Marie- Bernard advised: “Quick, call a policeman.”

“I CAN ONLY PRAY AND SUFFER”-ST. BERNADETTE

She had the gift of clever mimicry and when she was in charge of the infirmary she became expert at “taking off” the mannerisms of good Doctor Robert Cyr, who, all innocent of this, declared her a competent and trustworthy nurse. Little did he know that many a time she had the novices streaming tears of laughter by putting on a little “act” from the infirmary.

A special wish of hers was that her sisters should pray for her, after her death. “You will say that I was a saint,” she comp lained, “and leave me to roast in purgatory.”

One of her occupations, at one time, was to paint “Sacred Hearts” on images of piety, and she would say to her com panions: “If anyone says I have no heart, you can reply that I spend the whole day manufacturing hearts.”

Her cousin, Sister Victoire, once said to her: “You are lucky to be kept here in the Mother-house.” “Oh,” was her reply, “what else could they have done with me? I’m no good at anything.”

“Well, at least, you can pray for others.”

“That’s all I can do,” answered Sister Marie-Bernard, “I can only pray and suffer.”

As always, she faced facts squarely. In October, 1875, it had become clear that her active life was at end. She had served for six years in the infirmary and then for almost two in the sacristy. From that until her death in 1879, she filled her last and most important post, that of suffering. “My job is to be sick,” she told a superior, who, calling to the infirmary, had asked her: “What are you doing there, little lazybones?”

HER SENSE OF HUMOUR SAVED HER

Her sense of humour brought her through the long series of exhausting interviews and awkward questions. She was derided by her two companions at the Grotto, who called her a fool, but that was nothing to what her mother said when Bernadette described what she had seen and heard. She was commanded to chase such things out of her head for she had seen nothing. Her mother even suggested that it might have been the Devil that she saw, to which the calm, smiling Bernadette replied that the Devil would certainly not be saying the Rosary and besides would not be as pretty as The Lady.

Her touch of innocent humour turned the tables on her inquisitors. “You want me to believe that you have actually seen the Virgin Mary,” asked an eminent gentleman. Calmly and politely Bernadette replied: “I don’t ask you to believe it-I am only telling you what happened.”

Referring to the incident during one of the Apparitions when Our Lady instructed Bernadette to eat some of the grass near where she stood, one questioner asked:

“Did Our Lady take you for a beast?”

Quickly came the reply: “Do you think that way when you eat salad?”

She was asked a very tricky question, what she would do if the Pope ordered her to make known the secret she claimed Our Lady gave her. Bernadette’s reply was beautifully simple:

“If I told His Holiness it was a secret, he would not ask me.”

Imagine a simple child on her first Holy Communion asked this subtle question: “Which has made you the happier, to receive the good God or to have spoken with the Blessed Virgin?”

Bernadette answered calmly: “I do not know which made me happier. These things go together and cannot be compared. I do know that I have been very happy in both circumstances.”

No wonder the parish priest reported to the Bishop at this time that Bernadette’s development since the Apparitions was astonishing.

HER COLD RECEPTION AT NEVERS

Her cold reception at the Mother House at Nevers was a very severe trial for Bernadette. She was reminded that the Lady had t o tell her several times to drink of the spring water and to wash her face in it. “You can judge of the lack of humility,” said the Mistress of Novices in a loud whisper to the Mother Superior. Bernadette, quick of hearing, answered instantly with a flash of her native repartee: “But the water was so dirty!”

The Mother Superior made one final appeal to the Bishop that they send Bernadette back home. “My Lord,” ob jected the Mother Superior, “she has not the necessary health. She is not trained for anything.” To which the Bishop, who had gone to see Bernadette in the Hospital in Lourdes and had found her cleaning vegetables in the kitchen, answered: “She could always scrape your carrots.”

“I Served as a Broom for the Blessed Virgin”

At Nevers, engrossed in her little jobs in the infirmary, or in the sacristy, Bernadette had fulfilled her hope of complete obscurity and smallness. Once her Superior asked her: “Do you feel tempted to vain-glory, having been thus favoured by Our Lady?” Bernadette answered in all sincerity that had Mary found anyone still more ignorant than she was, to such a one would she have appeared.

One day she put a strange question to one of her companions, Sister Phillippine. “Tell me, what do they do with a broom when you’re finished with it?”

“Why do you ask me that?” inquired Sister Phillipine in astonishment. “Never mind,” went on Bernadette insistently. “I do ask you: what do they do with a broom when you’re finished with it?”

“What a question! Why, you put it back in its place, of course.”

“In its place? Where is that?” “Behind the door.”

“Exactly! You see, I served as a broom for the Blessed Virgin. And when she no longer had any use for me she put me in my place: behind the door.”

And with a gentle gesture Bernadette added: “There I am, and there I shall remain.”

“O God, the protector and lover of the humble,

Who didst cheer Thy servant, Bernadette, with the vision and conversation of Mary Immaculate, grant that by the simple way of faith we may become worthy to see Thee in heaven. Through Christ our Lord. Amen.” -Prayer of the Mass of St. Bernadette.

Nihil Obstat:

PERCY JONES,

Censor Deputatus.

Imprimatur:

DANIEL MANNIX, Archiepiscopus Melbournensis. 4th October, 1958

********

Concerning Parents

BY REV. EDGAR SCHMIEDELER, O.S.B., PH.D

INDEX

SOME GUIDING THOUGHTS

IT IS a commonplace to say that parenthood is a difficult profession. It was always so in the past. It is even more so today. How frequently, for example, do matters of discipline perplex the modern father and mother; how often are they at a loss to know which course in the best to follow in their dealings with their little ones! Shall they punish or shall they praise? Shall they allow or shall they refuse? The decision is often not an easy one to make. And yet upon it may depend in no small measure the future weal or woe of their offspring.

Keenly aware of the many difficulties that confront them in their tasks of child training, not a few parents today are eagerly reaching outside the home for help and guidance. Can the assistance they seek be given them? Can helpful direction be made available to them?

It must be admitted, first of all, that there are very real limitations to what can be done. Matters of child guidance cannot be reduced to rule-of-thumb methods. In other words, hard and fast rules that offer unfailing solutions for all possible cases of discipline that may arise are quite beyond the realm of possibility. The variations in the types of both children and parents are too great. The same is true with regard to the circumstances in which they find themselves.

Still, it is no less certain that some guiding principles can be laid down and that some helpful suggestions can be offered to parents. A number of these are set forth in the following paragraphs with the hope that they may prove of some practical value. They represent in no small measure the work of a group of mature students who, on completing a course in Parent Education under the direction of the writer, pooled their common ideas and thereby provided much of the material that appears in the pages of the writer’s Parent and Child (Paulist Press).

TYPES OF PARENTS

Perhaps the logical starting point for parents who are interested in making the most of their opportunities for the training of their children within the home is for them to turn the searchlight of inquiry upon themselves, to investigate their own attitudes toward child training, and to study their own methods of fulfilling their obligations in this vital field of activity.

And this should be done with the full realization that the present and future wellbeing of the child, rather than their own convenience and the order of the household, should be given first consideration.

Such an examination would undoubtedly show that many parents today fit into one of the following three groups: first, parents who are too strict; second, those who are too lenient; third, those who are inconsistent or alternating in disciplining their children.

PARENTS WHO ARE TOO STRICT

There are, as a matter of fact, not a few parents who rule their homes like autocrats. They are overstrict and severe. Excessive punishment, ceaseless bickering and endless restriction make the home anything but inviting to their children. The result is only too frequently the cultivation of a disputatious or rebellious character, or of a silent and sullen antagonism, instead of the development of a spirit of loyalty to parent and home. Deceit and double-dealing may even be resorted to by children in such homes in their efforts to escape punishment.

No doubt autocratic parents get a certain thrill out of the realization that their children obey them with unquestioned obedience. But the proper training of children is of far greater importance than a little selfish bit of pride or pleasure on the part of parents. The important question is whether under such rigid rule children will develop a wholesome degree of moral independence and self-control. In other words, will they on leaving the parental nest be able to stand on their own feet in the world? The chances are many against one that they will not.

INDULGENT PARENTS

More common today than a discipline that is too rigid is undoubtedly one that is too weak and easygoing. As there are parents who are autocrats, so also are there parents who are little more than servants to their children. Such parents may be simply of an easygoing temperament, or certain environmental circumstances may account for their leniency and failure. The spirit of”do as you please,” for example, is very much in the air these days and is extremely contagious. Some parents, too, may actually persuade themselves that they train their children by yielding to them. They give in to all their childish whims and tantrums as the easiest, if not the only, way of maintaining peace and quiet.

Yet these parents must certainly realize that, by countenancing such a philosophy of the easiest way, they are simply leaving their children unprepared for life. The world into which these youngsters must eventually be turned is emphatically a world of hard knocks. Young people whose rule of life is to avoid what is difficult and to go through with those projects only which appeal to their sense of ease and comfort, are the raw material from which the failures of life are formed. There is much need today for a diligent cultivation of the cardinal virtue of fortitude within the home in order that the creed of softness which has become so characteristic of the times may be effectively counteracted.

INCONSISTENT PARENTS

Most frequent of all and most disastrous is the union of license and severity within the home. In this instance, the parents are inconsistent, spasmodic in their dealings with their children. First they pet and then they punish; -one minute they coax into good behaviour and the next they scold abusively; today they condemn a certain act and tomorrow they pass it by unnoticed.

It is not to be wondered at that under the circumstances children scarcely know what is expected of them. Nor will they ordinarily fail to take the chance offered by their parents’ changing humour for the exhortion of bribery and affection when they want it. Thinking their parents guided more by whim than by principle, the children may even lose all respect for them and all confidence in them.

In this connection it is also well to observe that differences in judgement on the part of parents should always be settled in private, and never be paraded in the presence of the children. If the parents make use of two opposite codes or standards, that, if one constantly shields and spoils while the other remains ever stern and unyielding, the methods of each stultify those of the other. The fact is that the union of license and severity in the home, whether in the person of one and the same capricious parent or in two parents with opposite standards, in both very common in practice and decidedly harmful in effect.

THE MIDDLE WAY THE RIGHT WAY

The type of discipline required of parents will, of course, have to depend to some extent upon the disposition of the particular child that is being dealt with, but it must always be a consistent discipline. Moreover, it must in general lie between the two extremes of severity and laxity.

Obedience in the home is quite compatible with wholesome and wholehearted democracy therein. In fact, a proper degree of independence, initiative and freedom must be recognized and encouraged. Without these there can be no development, no virtue or self-control. A policy of repression stunts and kills, or it incites to rebellion with the subsequent necessity of a host of laws and regulations, all unwelcome because imposed from without.

On the other hand, to permit a child to range entirely at its own will is to prepare it not only for failure in every worthy conflict of life, but in all likelihood for shame and disgrace as well. A controlled freedom should be aimed at.

SOME RULES AND GUIDING PRINCIPLES

With a proper attitude toward the general task of child training in mind, parents should derive some practical help and specific guidance from the following few rules and principles:

1. First of all, parents do well to realize that there can be no training at a distance; hence they must go out of their way if necessary to keep close to their children and to enter in so far as possible into their work and play. Under the older economic order of more rural times, parent and child were constantly brought together through shared work and play. Under the newer and present order, however, which prevails particularly in cities, this is no longer the case. Economic and social conditions have built an ever-widening chasm between the two. The companionship that formerly came about automatically must today be carefully planned and even sacrificed for. It must in great part, be brought about by artificial effort.

2. Parents should realize that the training of the child is not only the mother’s but also the father’s task. It is particularly difficult for many fathers today to spend much time with their children; hence they must learn to make the most of the limited amount of time that they do have with them. In other words, they must learn to take an active interest in the hobbies and sports of their children. The child, whether boy or girl, who comes under the guidance of only one parent is in much the same position as a half-orphan and will be very liable to suffer a one-sided development.

3. Another point that parents do well to bear in mind, particularly in this day of a rapidly disappearing patriarchal family system, is the importance of winning the loyalty of their children and of playing the role of sympathetic confidants to them. If a father and mother are trusted friends and confidential advisers to their children in their early years, it is reasonable to hope that they will continue to serve in this highly important capacity during the difficult period of adolescence and afterwards. Certainly it is worthy of the highest commendation that children bring all their problems, troubles and doubts to father and mother for solution. Such, however, will only be the case if parents are truly companions, friends and confidants to their little ones.

4. A principle that is particularly deserving of emphasis is the following: A positive rather than a negative turn should be given by parents to their efforts at child training. In other words, they should be as ready to approve the good acts of a child as they are to condemn the bad ones. Thus, if a child is reproved for eating too many sweets, why not commend him when he faithfully eats his vegetables and fruits?

5. At times punishment may become necessary in training children within the home. Its aim should always be to bring about regret in the child’s mind. He will not readily repeat that for which he has felt sorrow. Many suggest also that wherever possible punishment should follow naturally from the offence committed. Such a practice, at any rate, would tend to focus the attention of the child on the consequence of his own act rather than on the possible anger or resentment of the parent. An extensive use of corporal punishment in the case of the average child is hardly commendable, since it is hard to administer it unemotionally and harder still to receive it in that manner. Undue corporal punishment is perhaps more liable to result in defiance or secretiveness than in . penitence.

6. Again, parents should always bear in mind that the proper aim in a child’s up-bringing should be to develop selfcontrol and self-training. Hence, at least from his earliest school years, a child should be gradually trained to moral independence. During the pre-school years, of course, his mental capacity is not sufficiently developed for reason to play any considerable part in the training process. The principal method of training during this period, therefore, must almost exclusively depend upon the simple fact that the child will naturally tend to repeat acts which have pleasant consequences and to avoid those which have unpleasant ones. The unpleasant consequences may result from the undesirable action itself or they may be artificially attached to the action by the parent, for example, in the form of a scolding or other act of disapproval.

It is undoubtedly appropriate to demand blind obedience on the part of a young child. But it is a mistake to carry it over into later years. Children of school age are old enough to appreciate the reasons for things and should be taught them. Ideals and principles should play an ever-increasing part in their training. Thus, the child should be taught to obey, not to avoid punishment, but because the law of God expects it of him. Or again, he should be taught to be truthful because lying is essentially wrong, and so on with other acts and omissions. If children have learned no reason for being good other than blind obedience to their parents, their good habits will have no permanent force. They will only be make-believe.

SOME SPECIFIC SUGGESTIONS

1. As few commands as possible should be given to children. Over-correction and domination are naturally resented by a child, as they are by an adult.

2. A child’s attention should be secured before a command is given him. An order shouted haphazardly at a little one who is all preoccupied with some playful activity that is almost as serious as a matter of life and death to him, will likely be but dimly recognized and but little heeded. For real co-operation, attention is altogether necessary.

3. Commands given a child should be followed up; that is, parents should let it be known firmly and pleasantly that they unfailingly expect obedience. Otherwise all discipline will be speedily undermined.

4. It is poor policy to bribe a child. He will likely capitalize his disobedience by holding out for a greater bribe the next time. If given a penny to behave today, he will likely expect another, or two of them, before heeding orders tomorrow.

5. Parents should not expect the impossible of a child. If their commands are reasonable, obedience will be fairly easy on the part of the little one.

6. Not a few parents incessantly make use of threats in order to gain obedience. Such a habit ordinarily results either in a hampering fear and timidity on the part of the child or in a realization that the commands of the parent are futile and their observance or non-observance a matter of trivial importance.

7. It is particularly worthy of note that once a child has lost confidence in his parents because of deception or other cause, it will be restored only with the greatest difficulty. Hence the unreasonableness of deceiving children in order to gain obedience.

8. One should be just in dealing with children. In adults the imposition of an unjust command leaves an ugly scar if not even a festering wound; in children it at least lessens respect, for and confidence in their parents. Such are a few of the guides that can be offered parents to aid them in their difficult tasks of child training. While admittedly far from adequate to solve all the manifold and perplexing problems that confront them, these suggestions are recommended for what helpful service they may be able to render them.

Parents, of course, are human. Hence mistakes will at times be made by them in their dealings with their children. But they should not be too human to admit their mistakes when they see them and to correct them.

PARENTS AS EDUCATORS

THERE can be no question that the responsibility of training the child and providing him with a suitable environment in which to grow up, belongs to the parents and should be assumed by them. And, indeed, there is no problem more worthy of the parents’ time and effort than that of helping to develop the child’s personality so that he may be a happy and efficient adult, as well as of caring intelligently for his physical life, so essential to his general well-being. But it goes without saying that if parents are to meet this obligation adequately and successfully, they must take the task seriously, and give the subject of child training the thought and consideration which it merits. The role of parent-educator in its fulfilment involves more than loving the child and being interested in his welfare.

Born with a certain inherited equipment, what the child becomes within the limits imposed by inheritance is dependent not only upon the love and affection, but also upon the intelligence and understanding, of those adults whose responsibility it is to guide them. Understanding children, however, and the cause of behaviour problems which they represent, is not a matter of intuition or of the anxious desire of parents to meet their full responsibilities. It comes as a result of much study of the physical, mental and social needs of many children, as well as the careful determination of the needs of the individual child. Knowledge is required for this just as it is required for any other important task.

PARENTS THE CHIEF EDUCATORS

Today, apparently, far more educational effort is centred in the school than in the home. In spite of some occasional eulogies of the home, the family is little recognized as the chief educational agency, at least by the unreflecting majority. This becomes evident when, for example, one contrasts the amount and precision of the literature relating to the teaching of school with the paucity of the material that treats the home as an educational organization. Then again, the Catholic press gives generous mention to our schools. Annual”Education Weeks” are held. The pulpit is used to further the interest of Catholic school education. But to what extent do these and other agencies call attention to, and promote, the more fundamental work of the primary educational institution, the home? No one can find fault with the splendid efforts in behalf of the school system, but the lack of interest in, and the complacent taking for granted of, that which is admittedly more fundamental, can only be deplored.

It is of the essence of the parent-education movement to help equip parents with necessary knowledge and understanding. There is increasing scientific knowledge concerning child behaviour and methods of guidance. While it is only within recent years that conduct behaviour has been scientifically studied, much has already been learned that can prove of the greatest advantage to parents in their task of child guidance. But real progress does not depend on the accumulation of scientific facts. It depends upon the dissemination of these facts as well. Scientists cannot take the place of the parents, but they can teach them many useful things and enable them to do intelligently not a little of what they now do in accordance with blind instinct or the advice of those who are no wiser than themselves. The parenteducation movement seeks to give parents the benefit of the scientists’ findings. Prevailing criticism of the family’s use of its opportunity with regard to child guidance expresses itself in a programme of reform, with the purpose either of eliminating much of the family’s opportunity to mould the child, or of demanding that the family be made more efficient by bringing its methods into harmony with present-day scientific principles. The latter method, and not the former, is of course, the one to be approved of and strongly advocated.

CHANGED CIRCUMSTANCES

There is no doubt that the parent-education movement is a greater need today than it was in times past. When parenthood was less difficult than it is today, there was little need for more formal education, or for specific instruction and guidance from extra-domestic sources as a preparation for family life. Domestic life was reasonably successful without it. Through informal contacts within the confines of the little home world, the children gradually learned the lessons of life that prepared them for the task of founding their own home and rearing a family.

But social conditions have changed radically during the past few decades. One of the unfortunate results is that the more informal educative process of the homes of the past has largely broken down. The shared activities of work and play have more and more departed from the domestic hearth, and the whole question of child training has become more difficult. Family life has become more involved and complex. The untrained parental instinct can no longer be relied upon to provide parents adequately with the necessary knowledge for their tasks. We now have an enormously complex individual coming into contact with a constantly changing environment. Hence, even for those fortunate adults who have had a childhood in a well-balanced, intelligent home under the guidance of far-seeing parents, it is very difficult to carry over this training to their children. The rapid change in social conditions, in housing, in the mechanics of living, in customs, in recreations, which has taken place generally in the past twenty years, makes a demand upon parents for a philosophy and for methods based on the present day. The child of twenty years ago lived in a vastly different world, with different stimuli, different desires and different behaviour.

Whether we like it or not, custom and tradition will no longer suffice for the efficient functioning of the home in the enriched culture of our many-faceted civilization today. In fact, if the home is permitted to continue only in traditional ways on a mere spontaneous and impulsive basis, while other institutions have the advantage of science, and are protected by special educational effort, it will inevitably slip behind in the march of progress. It will fail to function efficiently or to satisfy the home-makers themselves. And the results will speedily be reflected in the whole civilization of the time.

It was, in fact, a realization on the part of some parents of the need for help that gave rise to the parent-education movement. They began to see that the traditional methods of rearing children were not proving adequate for the complicated economic and social conditions prevailing today, and that special care and study are needed on the part of parents properly to understand and rear children. In consequence, parents began to study the procedure which they were using with their children, and to reach out to professional groups for assistance. They turned to educators, religious workers and scientists from many branches of knowledge for information in regard to problems of child development. In response, the findings of science in the field of child guidance were brought to the attention of parents. This was done, for example, through mothers’ clubs and through a special literature on child care and training which has sprung up recently, setting forth the findings of clinics, children’s foundations, child research departments of universities and the like. Placed within reach of parents, these studies have proved very helpful to them in their tasks of child rearing. Most good, however, is accomplished where there is expert guidance of some kind in addition, for instance, through study clubs competently led.

Scientific methods of housekeeping have given much more leisure time which can be devoted to cultural interests and to fuller training of children than was heretofore the case. While there is so much in modern life that tends to turn the individual away from the home, parent education should go far in reversing the situation and in creating a very real and worthwhile interest in family life by faithfully and intelligently upholding the home as the primary educational institution. The notion of parent education is very much in keeping with the Catholic concept of the family and its fundamental functions. It answers a very real need today.

PARENTS AND RELIGIOUS EDUCATION

AUSTRALIAN Catholics are justly proud of their school system. It stands a monument to their zeal and devotion to a great cause, the religious education of their children. Few today would deny its need. Few would question that, by and large, its accomplishments have been truly noteworthy.

Yet, assuming for the moment that all Catholic children enjoy the advantages of a parochial school education, or that those not so privileged are at least receiving formal instruction through such subsidiary agencies as Sunday schools, weekday religion classes or religious vacation schools, would the problem of the religious education of our children then be solved? Far . from it, indeed, unless at the same time Catholic parents were doing their full duty towards the religious training of their little ones. No matter how necessary the school may be in our modem complex civilization, the fundamental fact remains that the family is the primary educational institution. The school is but an extension of the home.

The late Pontiff, Pius XI, in his Encyclical on Education, places much emphasis upon this basic fact. Speaking, for instance, of the environment necessary for education, he writes:”The first natural and necessary element in this environment is the family, and this precisely because so ordained by the Creator Himself. Accordingly, that education, as a rule, will be more effective and lasting which is received in a well-ordered and well-disciplined Christian family.” With these and other words His Holiness again points to the traditional Catholic view, that the family is the school of schools and that its position must remain pre-eminent in any Christian scheme of education. Nor is it without great significance that he constantly refers in this connection to religious and moral education; that even when he includes physical and civic education, he adds, “principally in so far as it touches upon religion and morality.”

This is all, of course, in striking contrast to the attitude of those who, because of the alleged breakdown of the home, or for other reasons, would shift the sacred duties of the family to other shoulders. His Holiness admits a “lamentable decline in family education,” but the remedy he points to consists in the more effective fulfilment of parental obligations within the home rather than in the shirking of duties and the shifting of responsibilities to others.

THE HOME, THE IDEAL SCHOOL

Reasons for the pre-eminent position of the home in any scheme of Christian education are not far to seek. There is, first of all, the acknowledged importance of the early years of childhood, the years of tender faith. Though apparently of little significance at the time, the early impressions of a child exert an altogether disproportionate influence on the whole course of his later life. Fortunate the little one in whose mind the truths of religion are mingled with his earliest recollections.

Then, too, there are the effective values of the home. Religious instruction in the family is associated with the sacred sentiments of the child’s love for his father and mother. Religious truth taught in this wise will have a greater appeal and will exert a more lasting effect than when coming from any preceptor outside of the home. Nor is it a long step from an appreciation of parental love to a realization of the love of God, a realization on the part of the child that “there is Someone Who gives all people greater love than anyone else can give.”

SOME PRACTICAL SUGGESTIONS

But how can parents best carry out their God-given tasks towards their little ones?

How can fathers and mothers, the child’s first and foremost educators, make the most of their splendid opportunities with regard to their children? Space will permit at least a few suggestions here.

First of all it is of the utmost importance that they keep in mind the child ‘s level of intelligence. Their appeal to him must be through the”things of a child” and through the faculties that are most highly developed in him. Their efforts, too, must be confined to teaching him the more elementary truths of religion, the fundamentals that he is capable of grasping to some extent. Their aim must not be, therefore, to develop a theological prodigy, a species of infant Aquinas. To go beyond the limits of a child’s capacities is but to create unnecessary difficulties, to set up insurmountable barriers. The Church does not even expect a complete knowledge of Christian doctrine on the part of the child when he comes to make his first confession and Communion. Much less should it be expected of him several years earlier. Still, with a little patient effort on the part of the parents, the little one can be brought to an appreciation of some of the most sublime truths of religion.

Since it is only after we know God that we can love and serve Him, the first step should be to bring to the child ‘s mind the notion of a Supreme Being. Here particularly will it be necessary to work through the child’s senses. These facilities are more highly developed during the first year, than are the mental ones. Hence the tiny boy or girl is better equipped to appreciate things that he can see or feel than he is to grasp purely theoretical matters or abstract ideas. Some abstraction, however, is necessary.

Undoubtedly most can be expected by directing the child ‘s attention to the beauties of nature around him and by constantly referring to the Creator from Whose hand they come. Many opportunities will naturally present themselves for this-a beautiful sunset, the first flowers of spring, the return of the feathered songsters. As these wonderful works of God are repeatedly pointed out, the child will come more and more to see the hand of the Creator in all things. He will grasp with ever-increasing clarity the fact that”God made all things.”

A child can have a fair realization of the existence of God by the age of three or even earlier. After this fundamental religious truth has once fully come into his consciousness, it will be but a short step to the appreciation of God’s power and goodness, to a grasp of man’s independence upon Him and responsibility towards Him. The foundation will then have been laid for the whole structure of religion for intelligent prayer and for the religious motivation of all actions, for the entire group of Christian doctrines. The child’s religious knowledge should grow rapidly thereafter and his spiritual life be enriched.

The modern school teacher has come to make much use of visual education. The parent educator does well to imitate him in this in his efforts to make the religious education of his children more effective. Visual education is particularly helpful in the training of the pre-school child. Herein we see one of the values of holy pictures, statues, crucifixes, small shrines or altars in the home. By means of these the child can get a more vivid idea and a more lasting impression of our Lord, His saints and holy things than he can through any purely abstract teaching. Then, too, there are today a number of excellent illustrated books helpful in teaching religion to very young children. These should also be utilized. Certainly they deserve more of an honoured place in the Catholic home than do picture books that deal with birds, animals, etc.

In like manner should religious stories find precedence in a Catholic home over fairy-tales and other stories of field and farm or of our friends in fur and feather. The child, we know, never tires of stories, not even if they are repeated time and again. They take hold of his imagination and consequently, serve as an excellent medium for making religious doctrine and practice both appealing and intelligible to him. There is no question of the value of such stories in the religious training of the child during his years of tender faith, the period of awe and wonder when his trusting heart is readily disposed to the reception of faith. And there is such an endless variety of them for the parent to choose from-the story of the Christ-Child, of the Blessed Virgin His Mother, of St. Joseph His Foster-Father, of the entire Holy Family, of the first visitors, the shepherds and magi, etc.

Or again, there is the natural tendency of the little one to imitate his elders. This fact also will be capitalized by the parent who is conscious of his responsibility before God for the spiritual welfare of his offspring. It is the child’s tendency to imitate that gives the home such a powerful influence in the training process. Not only does the example of the parents and grown-ups within the family circle, but also the whole religious atmosphere within the home, react with telling effect upon the religious and moral development of the child. Such practices as grace at table, the reverent repetition of simple prayers with the child while kneeling at bedtime, all seem in some indescribable way to lead the little one to God. While the more informal instruction of the home may later be somewhat supplanted by the school, the training that takes place through example within the family circle can never be superseded. Hence Pius XI adds, after urging upon parents the use of the best methods for making their training effective,”Supposing always the influence of their ownexemplary lives.”

OPPORTUNITY FOR CATHOLIC ACTION

There is no denying the fact that in our modern civilization our school system is fundamental in the religious training of our children, but it is equally true that the home is still more basic. With parents first and foremost must rest the religious training of the child. That is alike their sacred duty and their inestimable privilege. And what a field this offers for missionary enterprise! What an opportunity for Catholic Action!

Nihil Obstat :

BERNARD O’CONNOR, Diocesan Censor.

Imprimatur:

@ D. MANNIX,

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis. 31st December, 1961

********

Confession Is A Joy

DANIEL A. LORD S.J

INDEX

The Friday Evening Poker Club was holding solemn session in the Bradley’s comfortable library. Stacks of Chips still in fairly even heights indicated that the evening was young. So did the fat, black cigars which the three men held firmly in their teeth.

“Cigarettes are for bridge; cigars are for poker,” was the slogan of the male members of the Friday Evening Poker Club; and their wives gave silent agreement. The cards snapped to the six about the card table in rapid staccato. Bets were made precisely and passionately. Chips were moved forward quietly or fell in sharp little clatters on top of one another. But the real excitement of the evening was to come later. When the clock drew on toward eleven, the hostess would say, with a smile, “Lunch will be served at exactly eleven remember. So play hard, those of you who are behind.” Then the men would lean forward chewing extinct cigars and studying the cards as if the stakes were as fabulous as those in a movie sequence instead of penny ante and five cent limit.

SMART WIVES

The Friday Evening Poker Club was really the smart idea of three wise matrons. None of them gave a hoot for poker. But all of them knew their husbands did. So wisely they went along. In fact, the club rotated from home to home. Play lasted from eight to eleven, climaxing in a buffet supper. After the fifth deal, Mr. Bradley would shuffle the cards in expert fashion and inevitably remark, “I don’t mind contract once in a while. But it’s really a woman’s game.” “Do you mean it takes brains?” sweetly asked his wife. “If it does” retorted Steve Fisher, coming to Bradley’s rescue, “how does it happen Russian refugees can teach us Americans so many tricks about it?” “Poker’s a man’s game,” murmured the rather meek Mr. Byrnes from behind his hand; and by this statement he ignored the fact that the three wives really played an excellent game, and usually one of them cashed a stack of chips that made the banker wince. Mrs. Bradley really enjoyed the club, largely because she liked the two Catholic couples who belonged to it with them, but chiefly because she could purr a bit as her husband played his hands like a master of psychology (Philo Vance, for example, testing a murderer’s nerve), grew deliberately calm and quietly masterful when with two pairs he bluffed Steve Fisher out of his full house, and became grimily determined when Ned Byrnes, who seldom stayed in without a handful, laid down three aces to top his three jacks and sweep in a fat jackpot.

Cards rightly used, she felt, could be made to bring out the best in husbands.

But, she sighed, wrongly used, they brought out the worst in husbands and wives. Wives were wise, then, when they played cards, provided they let their husbands choose their own game.

As for poker, it permitted just enough conversation to keep the women from being bored. Many a time the husbands would have screamed in pain had they seen the hands their wives cast aside unplayed because playing would have interfered with an important piece of news that could be thrashed out while the men concentrated on the capture of a small stack of whites hardly stained with reds and blues.

LET’S PLAY

“Raising you five.”

“And another five.”

“I”m out.”

“Seeing you.”

“Seeing you.”

“me, too.”

“What have you got”

“Aces and fives.”

“They’re good with me.”

“Three tens.”

“They’re good.”

“I needed that pot.”

“Steve’s dealing.”

“Ante, honey.”

“I always ante, darling, if you give me time.”

“No time like the present, dear.”

“Sunday’s Pentecost.”

This from Mrs. Byrnes who could be counted on to say the most unforseen things at the most unexpected times.

Everybody looked up in surprise.

INTERRUPTION

“I beg your pardon?” asked Mrs. Bradley, puzzled. “Oh, I just said that Sunday would be Pentecost. Ned, don’t forget to go to confession tomorrow afternoon before you come to the club.” Ned Byrnes most patient of husbands, slammed down his hand with a thud that made everyone else, for no good reason, burst into a shout of laughter. “Great guns!” he cried helplessly. “What’s confession got to do with this hand?” “Nothing, darling. I was just thinking.” “Watch him,” grinned the host to the others. “I bet he’s got a fistful.” “Fistful, my aunt’s dead husband!” growled Mr. Byrnes in his most violent profanity. “But why Grace had to bring up confession when she knows I hate it. Me, too,” sighed Mrs. Fisher sympathetically. Mr. Bradley laughed. “I didn’t know confession was supposed to be a kind of clam bake, with real beer and dancing on the side.”

I HATE CONFESSION

“Oh nobody really likes to go to confession,” sighed Mrs. Byrnes. “But with Pentecost coming I just thought you’d like me to remind you.” Ned Byrnes” mutter did not rise above his barricade of three jacks and a neat little pair of sixes. “It is queer how many of us dislike confession.” This from Mrs. Bradley. “You’re telling us?” was her husband’s slangy comment. She laid down her cards, picked them up for a second look, and then tossed them into the discard. “I”m out,” she said, and then continued: “I”ve often wondered if maybe I didn’t have a wrong viewpoint there. The Lord certainly made it easy for us to get rid of our sins, and getting rid of sins should be pleasant enough, goodness knows.” The three men groaned in chorus.

DULL AND MONOTONOUS

“Well, it’s not.” “I know it’s not, and that’s what makes me wonder if the fault is with us rather than with confession. Perhaps if we really understood it. , . .”

“I understand it,” her husband laughed. ““Bless me, Father, for I have sinned, and I hope you’re a lit tle deaf because when I rattle off my sins you may miss some of them.” Then a penance, a swift absolution, and I stagger out glad if I escaped without questions or advice.” They all laughed, slightly embarrassed.

“And month after month,” Mrs. Fisher put in, “the same sins. I”d like to bet that each of us women could use a carbon copy of each other’s confessions.”

“Then you ought to stop going together,” grinned her husband.

“No, I mean uncharitableness in speech, talking unkindly to the children-and yourhusband.” “Growing impatient when our husbands show bad temper,” she continued, making a deliberate face at hers: “being vain and conceited.”

“With reason,” supplemented Mr. Bradley gallantly.

“Thank you, kind sir.”

Once more they laughed

A PHONE CALL

“It all seems so dull and pointless, and generally unpleasant.” “That’s just the point,” Mrs. Bradley urged. “Surely if Christ instituted the Sacrament of Penance, it must be as beautiful as Holy Communion is beautiful, or Confirmation, or—“Matrimony?” suggested her husband. “Yes, darling, matrimony. But we Catholics seem to get so little joy out of confession! I wish Father Hall could take an evening sometimes and really tell us badly instructed Catholics what it’s all about.” The phone rang. The maid appeared and answered it as the sextet picked up newly dealt cards and scanned them intently. “Mr.Bradley,” called the maid softly, “it’s for you. Long distance; person to person, from Lakeside.”

“Thanks,” he answered, and laid down his cards. “I”m in and betting a red. No, it costs you all two reds to draw cards.” Then to the “phone: “Yes, Mr. Bradley talking. . . . Thanks. . . . Why, hello, Father Hall! Speaking of angels! . . . Just the six of us here, you know. The Friday Evening Poker Club. . . . No. Delighted to hear from you. . . . Tuesday evening you’ll he in town? Grand! Make it dinner. . . . That’s fine. . . . Just a minute, please; hold the wire.” To the players who are watching him with interest: “It’s Father Hall. He’s coming up Tuesday on business and says he’ll drop in for the evening. How about you people coming in later, and we’ll get him to thrash out this confession matter?”

AND A DATE

A questioning interchange of glances between husbands and wives, and all heads nodded vigorously. “Grand!” Then once more to the “phone. . “We’ll expect you on Tuesday for dinner at seven. A few friends in later, if you don’t mind. We’re going to make you sing for your supper. . . . No, not really sing. I was just talking. . . . Goodnight Father. I”11 drop you a line. Till Tuesday evening.” An approving chorus welcomed him back to the table. “Grand luck.” “But it is a shame to make him work when he might have a bit of a holiday.” “He’ll love it,” from Mr. Bradley. “Anyway, we’ll expect all of you Tuesday.” He swept up his cards. “Who’s in? What? Nobody! Doggone the lot of you! A bunch of pickers; and me with a pat straight, king high!”

DAYS LATER

They sat in the same library, the same six with Father Hall as the added guest. The priest—old family friend by choice, parish priest of Lakeside by the appointment of his Bishop, brilliant novelist by his own developed talent relaxed comfortably in a deep chair, and seemed to he mentally playing with the subject that had been deliberately introduced by his hostess.”Unfortunately,” he said, “for some reason, confession seems to be the unappreciated Sacrament. Quite too many Catholics feel as you do about it.” Mrs.Bradley nodded. “That’s what we all more or less agreed.” “And we felt, too, added Mrs. Byrnes, “that something must he wrong with us.” “It’s probably unnatural not to like to go to confession,” said Mr. Fisher, ruefully, “and doggone it, we don’t want to feel unnatural.”

The priest turned toward the last speaker directly. “Of course, it’s not unnatural. Confession has to do with sin, and, by the wildest stretch of the imagination, sin is not a pleasant thing to deal with. As for going down on one’s knees and admitting to a fellow man that one has been cheap and low and let his animal instincts run away with him, that one has taken a mean crack at an absent friend, or boxed the children’s ears because there was fish for dinner or one’s dress failed to create the impression expected, or that one has lied contemptibly or was irrationally angry, or let dirty things slip from one’s tongue or through one’s mind -well, believe me, that’s not pleasant, and it’s usually very embarrassing, and tears holes in our pride. “So, really, I”m not surprised when we find confession unpleasant and difficult—if we take only that side of it.”

IN AND OUT

“I”m afraid,” said Mr. Fisher, “that that is, the only side most of us see. I know that I bolt out my sins and get back into the pew just as fast as I can make it.” “And thank God it’s over,” added Mr. Byrnes. “Right.” Father Hall laughed. “Oh, a priest gets to know your type. Do you mind if I say that he also feels just a little sorry for you? Telling one’s meannesses and showing up the rotten side of one’s nature isn’t particularly appealing, I admit; but it is a shame that people should make an agony outof what could easily he a joy.” The men shook their heads doubtingly. The women seemed less hopeless. But the priest continued.

GREAT SINNER; GREAT JOY

“Strangely, it is quite ordinary confessions of rather trivial and commonplace sins (if any sins are really trivial and commonplace) that leave people annoyed and perturbed, and feeling dull and a little foolish. When a great sinner pours out some black tale of horrible sins stretching over a lifetime of evil and the priest gives him absolution, he goes out of the confessional with his head bumping against the arches, a light on his face, peace singing in his heart, and an almost uncontrollable inclination to shout or slap the nearest waiting penitent on the back and tell him how good God is. But after commonplace confessions, as after all commonplace things, people have commonplace reactions.”

“I”m afraid,” said Mrs. Bradley, “that you are talking to terribly commonplace people.” “Yet confession is meant for all; for the Pope who kneels to his confessor, and the little youngster who rattles off his disobediences toward his older sister, and for the saint who has nothing to confess except trifling laziness on the higher levels of perfection. So-.”

He paused, put his cigar on the ash tray, and took out apipe. “Would this,” he asked half playfully, half plaintively, “completely desecrate your library?” All the ladies joined in an eager protest that they liked pipes. Whereat their husbands looked at one another in astonishment. This was news. But the priest, evidently deep in thought, filled the pipe from his well worn rubber pouch, tamped it with a practised thumb, lit it at a flame that illuminated his face, concentrated far less on his pipe than on the subject in his mind, took two slow puffs, and resumed.

SIN-HAUNTED

“One of the strangest and most terrifying of human emotions is the consciousness of sin; and it is universal. Whether believers or unbelievers, men go through life haunted by this sense of guilt. Sin, no matter how you take it, is a crime and leaves upon men and women alike a sense of being criminals. “The Greeks, who always treated important things romantically, put the whole idea into a figure of speech. They visualised the sinner as hunted down by the Furies and torn to pieces. At least once, they pictured these Furies as actual dogs, ripping the criminals to bits. “The old Egyptian inscriptions show us the tiny, trembling soul of the sinner standing in the presence of the judge of the dead, who weighted him against his sin and drove him forth under a lash to unhappiness.

LIKE GHOSTS

“The literature of every age is filled with this haunting sense of guilt. You find it in the universal tradition that murderers are forced to return to the scenes of their crimes. That the ghosts of the dead haunt the guilty. That the unrepentant criminal cannot rest quietly, even in his grave. That it is well to do penance even for sins of which one may not he aware, by throwing, for example, a ring into the sea for the gods. “We see throughout history great sinners pursued relentlessly by this dogging sense of guilt. Vespasian used to walk the dark corridors at night, afraid of the clutching hands of his victims. Half the music of the pagan world was written to distract powerful sinners from the thought of their sin.”

ALL PEOPLE DREAD GUILT

“I had always thought,” murmured Mrs. Fisher, “that the sense of sin and guilt was Christian.” “Because Christianity clarified the soul and enlightened the conscience, and built up a purer moral law, it made men see sin more clearly. It showed them the consequences of sin in hell—and on Calvary. But Christianity only developed what all men know as the voice of conscience. The idea of sin and remorse of conscience following guilt are universal human experiences. Chesterton once said to a lot of modern word jugglers, who were trying to talk the disagreeable fact of sin out of existence, “why, sin is as plain a fact as potatoes.”

“RID US OF SIN!”

“And evidently much more general,” suggested Mr. Fisher. “Weren’t potatoes introduced rather late in history?” “What a sad day that was for the ladies” waistlines!” sighed his wife; and all the ladies joined in the sigh. “Well, the Jews, to rid themselves of this sense of guilt, this feeling that they were criminals against God and their fellows, did all sorts of symbolic things—some of them at Gods command! They laid their sins on the head of a goat, and then drove the goat out into the desert to die in their stead. They washed themselves, in innumerable ceremonies, to indicate their freedom from sin; and, by the way, pagan people did that, too. You remember, I”m sure, how Pilate washed his hands to clear away his possible built for the death of Christ.

CHRIST SYMPATHISED

“So, we see men everywhere longing for an assurance that the filthy thing called sin is wiped away and that they are no longer criminals in the sight of the gods, or of God, and of their fellow men. “Now, no one ever more clearly understood the criminal character of sin and the universal haunting fear in the heart of man than did Christ Our Lord. He knew that the crimes of the world would culminate when sin nailed Him to the cross. But from His heart He pitied the sinner. “So we find His regular greeting of reassurance, even to those who came to Him for quite other reasons, was, “Thy sins are forgiven thee.” Frequently, with characteristic insight into the troubled condition of the sinner’s soul, He added, “Go in peace.” “Here was something new under the sun. Sinners, tortured by the sense of sin, suddenly heard someone say with convincing authority that they need worry no longer, that their sins were forgiven them. We see those who hear this leap to their feet in their relief and rush away shouting with joy. We see Magdalen follow Him, grateful from the momentHe forgives her sins, until He is concealed from her by the sealed tomb.”

SCEPTICS DOUBT

Father Hall, with a quick little rap, jarred the embers of tobacco deeper into the bowl of his pipe. “Naturally, the sceptics, who found fault with everything else Our Lord did, found a lot of fault with Him for daring to forgive sins. You probably remember the paralytic who was let down through the roof when Jesus couldn’t be reached through the crowded door.” “My favorite Gospel story,” laughed Mr. Bradley. “I don’t know whether I admire more the faith of the man with the palsy or the resourcefulness of his friends.”

DRAMA

“Yes,” nodded Father Hall, “that is one story we all know. Well, when Christ looked into the troubled eyes of the paralytic, He saw that haunting fear of sin that clouded his soul. So, characteristically, once more, He said, “Thy sins are forgiven thee.” “That gave the sceptics their big moment. They started talking—very much, I must say, like Protestants. “Why, who can forgive sins save only God?” (A priest is asked that question, by the way, a hundred times a year by perfectly well-meaning Protestants.)

“Christ looked at them quietly. As God, certainly, He could forgive sins. The point was that He forgave them as man. He had to prove that. You remember how conclusively He did. He gave the sceptics the famous dilemma: “Is it easier to say, Thy sins are forgiven thee, or to say, Arise and walk?” If He could work the miracle which they could see, He had proved to them He could work the wonder they could not see, but which the sick man had already experienced in his secret soul. They did not dare accept His challenge; so He said calmly: “But that you may know that the Son of Man hath power on earth to forgive sins (then said He to the man sick of the palsy): Arise, take up thy bed, and go into thy house. And he promptly did.

“Christ had proved that as man He had the power of forgiving sins. “Dramatic, wasn’t it?” said Mrs. Bradley. “Very. But Christ was so interested in bringing home His power that He had to be dramatic. He wanted it perfectly clear in their minds that one of His great purposes was to relieve men of this oppressive uncertainty about their guilt; and this was the first of the steps He was taking to that end, so exceedingly important for the peace of mind of all the world.” “Namely?” from Mrs. Bradley.

THE SECOND STEP

“He passed on to His Church this power of forgiving sins and destroying the despairing sense of guilt. He had the power. He gave it explicitly to His Church; and His Church unfailingly used it. “Most solemnly He had promised His Apostles the powerto bind and loose sins. Then, in another beautiful drama, He conferred the power. “You remember the scene, I”m sure. It was after the Resurrection. Christ appears to the Apostles in the upper room, entering through the doors locked for fear of the Jews. Deliberately He breathes upon them and says: “Receive ye the Holy Ghost. Whose sins you shall forgive, they are forgiven them; and whose sins you shall retain they are retained.” That famous text is a commonplace of Catholic teaching.

THE CHURCH CARRIES ON

“Well , from that moment the Church exercised that gloriously consoling power. Sometimes there were disputes about the circumstances under which certain sins could be forgiven. There was a question about how often a recurring sinner could he absolved. But the Church never doubted her power to forgive sins and went on exercising it century after century. “And that was inevitable. Christ did not limit His benefits to the people of His own day. He came that all might receive His graces. Not the least of these graces were peace and the forgiveness of sins.” Mr. Fisher was the only one who looked perplexed. “Yes, but this doesn’t quite explain confession,” he said. “Where, precisely, does confession fit in?”

THROUGH CONFESSION

“Confession is part of the Sacrament of Penance, which is simply the Church’s exercise of this Christ-given power in favour of the individual soul. Through it is exercised the act of forgiving or of retaining sins, depending on the person’s proof of worthiness or unworthiness. “Christ, you must remember, never dealt merely with groups, or crowds, or vague masses of people. He was always individual. The individual soul mattered. He was as individual as the miracles He worked, with special attention to each sick person. He was as individual as Holy Communion, or the laying on of hands, or the call to individual men to become His disciples.

FOR INDIVIDUAL SOULS

“So His forgiveness of sin was individual. Sin is the most personal thing in the world. So must be the forgiveness of sin and the peace and reassurance that follow forgiveness. “Besides, men needed not merely the hope that a silent God had forgiven them. They needed also the assurance that they had heard words of forgiveness, words that were meant for them and were addressed to them “ All this demanded confession. The person kneeling admits his sins to prove that he is sorry and to give the judge the opportunity to determine his worthiness of pardon. A representative of Christ empowered to repeat Christ’s gracious and consoling act of forgiveness, sits in sympathetic judgment, and then, to this individual sinner, speaks individual words of convincing forgiveness; and the sinner rises, knowing that to his soul have come peace and reconciliation with God. “Nothing could be more humanly reasonable. Nothing could be more divinely condescending or kind.”

CHRISTIAN PSYCHO-ANALYSIS

The maid entered and placed a tray of ice water and glasses on a table. Two of the men poured glasses frosted with a cool mist. Mrs. Bradley passed flat pink and white mists to the women. But all were too intent to break the chain of thought. “I said this was humanly reasonable. Let me show you what I meant. A short time back (for the vogue has slightly faded) we were hearing a great deal about psycho-analysis. The theory was based largely on the assumption that civilized men are too repressed; they never rid their hearts of the poison of youthful sins and guilt; they go through the carrying disheartening secrets that would lose their main horror if they lost their secrecy. There is a great deal to that. “But, may I say, with all reverence, that Christ anticipated psychoanalysis, in its pleasant, correct, and healing aspects, by about two thousands years?” “No!” ejaculated Mrs. Byrnes.

A HUMAN NEED

“Precisely. A Catholic who uses confession correctly has no repressions. He has told his poisonous secrets and got them once and for all out of his system. He goes through life hugging no corpses of secret crimes to his heart. He has long since told his guilt to a fellow man, heard from the man the positive assurance that God has forgiven him, and has cast off for himself the sad consequences that rise from unconfessed sin, and the pursuing sense of guilt. Psychoanalysis is just twenty centuries behind Christ in its treatment of disordered minds.”So, you see, Protestantism not only went against the solid history of Christianity when it destroyed confession. It closed to mankind one of the most effective of human spiritual and emotional exhausts. It blocked a divinely instituted safety valve. Puritanism, with its prohibitions and it savage repressions, was a typical consequence.”

TO GOD DIRECTLY?

“But doesn’t the Protestant confess directly to God?” asked Mrs. Fisher. “I have a non-Catholic friend who tells me that atleast once a year,” her husband agreed. “I”m quite sure they do,” smiled Father Hall. “But so did the Jews before Christ came. Christ added precisely this new element, that He did not leave confession of sins to a silent God. He entrusted the power of forgiving sins directly to men. “Whose sins you shall forgive” was directed to men “And that was where He was so humanly and divinely wise. We kneel to a man who knows from experience our human weakness, who has suffered our temptation, and who, because of his long training and careful experience, can give us the advice and help we need. We unburden ourselves to a fellow man, who listens with a combination of human sympathy and divine authority. We release our souls to this spiritual physician. Then we hear pronounced the dear words that the human soul must hear if it is to be fully assured of forgiveness. “It is all mercifully and divinely conceived and designed, this confession of ours, fundamentally suited to our need of release; fundamentally adapted to ourcraving for individual attention and the certainty of a positive response.”

CRIMINAL MAN

“It’s all beginning to look a lot clearer,” Mr. Bradley said, looking toward his wife for her agreement. Father Mall pushed forward. “Christ, Who looked at sin with the clear eyes of one who meant to fight it to the last ditch of Gethesemane and the final charge of Calvary’s heights, knew that every sinner is a criminal. Criminals, if there is any justice, must stand trial and hear sentence pronounced; and if these criminals have offended the just God, they may be sure of absolute justice. “So deliberately and insistently, Christ warned the criminal human race of a terrible trial that they must stand. He called it the Last Judgment, and pictures it with a wealth of detail He seldom gave to His descriptions.

TWO TRIBUNALS

“There, before all the world, gathered from the graves of all time, the sinner would stand in the presence of Christ, no longer the Good Shepherd but the Inflexible Judge, hear his sins listed in terrifying array, and sentence, swift but just, relentless and utterly appalling, pronounced. . . .”Unless. . . .”Well, unless the criminal has voluntarily pleaded guilty before another tribunal, and in another trial that Christ instituted; the trial in the court room of the confessional. Being a criminal, the sinner must stand trial. Gods justice demanded that. But he was given a choice between two courts, the Last Judgment and confession.

“Now, let’s admit that neither of them is particularly attractive. Neither are the crimes of which we have been guilty; and criminals have really not much excuse for being fussy about the way their crimes are handled. “But, if we stop to compare these two trials, I rather think that on our knees we will thank the gentle Christ for His graciousness in giving us a choice that we certainly don’t deserve. “Confession comes to look very beautiful if you give even a thought to its alternative, the Last Judgment.”

“WE SHALL BE TRIED”

Though Father Hall took what seemed an interminable time to refill and light his pipe, no one spoke. In fact, there was a general concentration of eyes on the figure in the rug, and out of the corner of his eye Father Hill was not missing it. “Where precisely do the two trials take place,” he resumed. “The Last Judgment, as Christ terrifyingly describes it, takes place with all humanity, from Adam to the last child born of woman, looking upon my bare and naked soul, my magnificent opportunities, my base treasons, my criminal assaults upon God, my evil deeds toward men. Shivering, I hear terrible lists of my sins read off, unrepented and unremitted, until, in Christ’s words, I call upon the mountains to fall upon me and cover me as shame piles on shame and all men know my guilt.”I turn from this appalling scene to the merciful secrecy of the confessional. A dark curtain cuts me off from the curious world. The shadows cover my identity from even the priest. I am alone with a man who, even if he knew me, dare not whisper the least of my sins though silence were to cost him his life.

ACCUSED

“Who will accuse me at that Last Judgment? My own soul, forced by the racking torture of conscience, will admit my guilt. My guardian angel will tell of his vain struggle to keep me from evil. The devil, producing triumphantly the compact of my mortal sin, by which I sold myself to him forever, will claim me for his own. Each man or woman who, by my life or words or deeds, was led into sin will bear witness; and, finally, Christ with the marks of the blows I struck His back and the nail wounds I drove into His hands, will level at me an unanswerable accusation. Terrifying group of witnesses!”Who accuses me in the confessional? That tender, merciful, considerate person who wouldn’t hurt my feelings for the world, who spares me every possible humiliation, yet who must be believed by the priest- myself.” Involuntarily Mrs. Fisher snapped the tension with a short, high laugh. The others shifted but did not take their eyes from the priest.

JUDGES

“And who is the judge of the Last Judgment? Christ, infinitely just, with mercy at an end, and nothing but strict, stern justice ahead. Christ, the rejected friend, the betrayed king, the deserted lover, now become the inexorable judge. Christ Who has felt my bitter ingratitude. Christ, before Whom all sham excuses and silly explanations die of their own breathlessness. Who sees through snivelling lies and tricky subterfuges, and measures truth with even hand.”But in the confessional waits the merciful Christ of the Sacred Heart, Christ the Father of the Prodigal Son, Christ the Good Shepherd, Christ of the Passion, waiting for any possible companion of the good thief; Christ Who finds more joy in one sinner doing penance than in ninety-nine just who need not penance-Christ with outstretched, aching arms.

“I”m afraid we think too much of the priest sitting in the confessional, and too little of the shadowy figure of Christ just behind the priest. Confession would be a far lovelier thing if we thought of it as a flight to the arms of the loving Christ, as the reclasping of the hand of the Captain we have betrayed.”Of course, the priest is there, as the human judge; and never does he elsewhere feel himself quite so completely in the place of Christ. The mercy in his hands is the mercy of the merciful Saviour. The forgiveness he dispenses is the forgiveness of the Son of God; and there is joy in his heart when some particularly terrible sinner finds his way stumblingly into the confessional, and he is able to lead him back to peace and reconciliation at the Heart of the Saviour.

DEPART!

“After both trials significant words are spoken. Both contain the order to go; to depart. But with what a difference! The thunder of the words that are the verdict of the Last Judgment dashes the criminal back into blackest despair. “Depart from Me, ye cursed, into everlasting fire prepared for the devil and his angels.” If Christ had not told us of these words Himself, we could never have guessed that they would some day pass the merciful lips of the Saviour. I for one can never sufficiently thank Him for the warning. But they are terrible words. God grant we may not hear them addressed to us.”Instead, if we wish, we who kneel in the confessional may hear the consoling words, “I absolve you f rom your sins, in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost,” followed by the quiet, reassuring whisper of the priest, in a tone that must be a little like Christ’s own, “Go in peace.” “It is a deadly parallel, isn’t it? But it is certainly not a bad idea to look at it in cold-blooded comparison. We are criminals. We must stand trial. Which?We have a clear choice, and, thanks to the dear Christ, an easy one.”

BAD CONFESSIONS?

Father Hall rose from his chair, walked across, and, amid an almost palpable silence, poured out and drank a glass of ice water. Then there was a general stir, cigarettes appeared, matches were struck, and the mints came into rapid circulation.

It was the host who spoke first. “Thanks, Father. Very clear and very reasonable.” But Mrs. Byrnes was the one who shook her head. “And very terrifying. Suppose one makes a bad confession? That is what always bothers me. How can I be sure? How do I know whether this is a sin or not? What about my stupid consent; or did I give it? All those silly, human things are what upset me.”

Evidently she was talking for more than herself, for the whole group stirred interestedly, and murmurs seemed to back her up.

In other words, what Christ meant to be a deep consolation and a positive joy, we make a difficulty, a source of real annoyance and trial for our souls by our stupidity (forgive me) and our obstinancy.”

OLD AND FORGOTTEN SCORES

He could almost feel his listeners grow taut. “I mean both words, stupidity and obstinacy. Obstinacy, because good people persist in putting difficulties where there are none They scrape up old sins out of the past, sins that were forgiven by God years ago, and though they are told by the priest to forget them and put them forever out of their mind, they keep fingering them over and dragging them out of their graves, and insulting God with a strangely twisted denial of His merciful forgiveness.”

Mrs. Byrnes almost gasped.

“I mean just that,” persisted the priest. “Nothing must be so thoroughly annoying to God (if anything could annoy God) as the sinner who constantly digs up a dead and buried past. It’s silly, it’s stupid, and it is an insult to God’s tender mercy.

“Can you fancy Mary Magdalen, after Christ had said, “Go in peace; thy sins are forgiven thee,” coming back and saying, “Now, are You sure they are forgiven?I”m not certain that You understood what I meant about that particular evening in Tiberias. May I say it over again?” Or Peter, each time he met Christ, pleading. “Now, are You quite sure that You have forgiven me my denial? You see, it was this way . . . and there were circumstances that You may not have understood.” Even the patient Christ would, I think, grow weary of that.”After one has honestly told one’s sins, tried to be sorry for them, and put them in the hands of God, it is sheer, senseless obstinacy to keep dragging them forth for new investigation and discussion. If, in the past, one has sinned in a matter that is more than ordinarily serious, one can say in each confession, “And I accuse myself of the sin of, committed in my past life.” But let’s not insult God’s mercy and His and the priest’s intelligence by raking up a past. God is not interested in it. Why, in heaven’s name, should we be?” He paused, and with unwonted emphasis knocked the ashes out of his pipe.

SO SIMPLE

“And the whole process of confession is so beautifully simple.” “I think you have here quite a group of stupid and obstinate people,” said Mrs. Bradley.quietly. “Won’t you explain?” The priest looked about him with a quizzical smile. “What precisely, do we have to tell in confession?” he began. “Oh, I know that one,” shot in Mr. Fisher. “All the serious sins of which we know we are guilty.” “Period,” said the priest. “What?” “Period. Just that and nothing else.If you want to tell some venial sins, that’s splendid. But the serious sins you know you have committed are all you must tell. And surely” (this in almost a pleading voice) “you know what serious sins are.”

“Grievous matter, sufficient reflection, and full consent of the will,” ticked off Mr. Bradley before the other men could reply. Correct, dear, dear, little children; what a smart class this is!” They laughed along with him “So, if a thing does God or a fellow man in society a serious injury-Sin Declares Itself.” “Now, there is the point. How is one to know this?” “Usually the conscience has a way of speaking out pretty emphatically on the subject. The Church makes clear things about which we might have some legitimate doubt; and if still we don’t know, if we are not sure, for example, whether it was serious to take that five dollars out of the collection box at the ten o‘clock Mass—” “Not a chance! Not a chance!” “If you have a doubt, ask the priest in confession.” “But sometimes,” Mr. Byrnes suggested, timidly, “one hardly knows what words to use, framing such a question.”

Then it is simpler still. Say, “Father, I want to ask a question, and I don’t know how to put it.” In three questions, quiet, unembarrassing, the priest will arrive at your difficulty, and, presto, it is settled. Usually the answer is, “No, it’s not a serious sin.”“ “Not really!” from the men.”Exactly. People unfortunately, go through life torturing themselves with difficulties about things that are not sinful at all. One question would forever have set their minds at rest. On the other hand, however, if they do not ask, but go ahead and take a chance, they are guilty of serious sin, even if the thing they do is not serious. Deliberately refusing to find out doesn’t help one bit. It leaves us as guilty ,as if we know we were doing wrong.”

FULL AND HALF CONSENT

“But so often,” said Mrs. Fisher, we can’t be sure we really knew what we were doing or really gave consent.” “Then it is too simple for words. You cannot possibly commit a serious sin unless you know at the time that you are doing so. For instance, thinking it is Thursday, I order and eat a thoroughly satisfactory slice of prime beef. Later in the afternoon, I find out it is Friday. Well, I have not sinned. Or pass by a window filled with pretty tough magazines. Later I realise that as I passed I took in more of those covers than I had realized in my abstracted state of mind. No need of the slightest worry.”Or while I am half asleep a series of indecent pictures pass through my imagination. Guilty? Certainly not. One who is half asleep cannot give full consent. “Things would be so much simpler if we remembered that Christ only asks from us a reasonable effort. He no more wants us to get into a state of trying to prod around in the scrapheap of memory than He wants us to spend our lives looking for lost pennies in ash piles.

REASONABLE EFFORT

“All He wants is a fair and honest and reasonable effort on our part to recall our sins. Oh, believe me, unless we are hardened sinners, any serious sin will come leaping up out of the past to glare in our faces. A little thoughtful investigation of where we have been, what we have done, whom we have gone with, what we have read, with a brief glance at our business, home, church, amusements, will give us a pretty accurate survey of our lives. Detailed scrutiny will usually add no important knowledge and will simply set our mind whirling round in circles.

“You see, God wants honest men in confession. They need not be expert accountants. He does not expect us to spend time and energy looking for a missing penny in our spiritual balancesheet.” “That’s consoling,” was Mr. Bradley’s comment.

A BEAUTIFUL PRAYER

“In fact, I think that most people spend too much time examining their consciences and too little time doing more important things. That is just one reason why many find confession dull and uninspiring.” “Really?” asked his hostess. “Then what should we do?” “Make confession a real and beautiful prayer.” Father Hall leaned forward, as he always did when deeply interested.”Let’s take a look at a confession correctly and inspiringly made. The penitent, who doesn’t think himself very unusual, kneels before the altar. First of all he thanks God for the favours God has heaped upon him. He runs back in rapid survey over God’s gifts of birth, protection, good parents, Catholic surroundings, baptism, the gift of faith, a Catholic education, health, friends, fair success, Holy Communion, the Holy Ghost in Confirmation, his work in life and the strength to do it, his home and family and pleasures. Then, Gratefully, he remembers the beautiful secret favours that God has given him out of an overflowing love. He says a heartfelt “Thank you, God,” and against this background of God’s goodness and generosity he determines to look at himself and his conduct.

“But before he does so he prays for light. He asks God to help him to know his sins and realize what an ungrateful son and traitorous soldier he has been. He asks for the strength to be honest in examining his conscience, and for the light to see his sins clearly and somewhat as Christ saw them in Gethsemane, and as he himself will see them on the last day.

THREE MINUTES

“Then, briefly, and as I explained before, he examines his conscience.” “For how long?” asked Mr. Fisher. “Perhaps three minutes. At longest five.” “Why, is that enough?” “Plenty. If he goes often, he can do it in less. If he makes an examination of conscience at night, as he should, it may not take more than a minute.

SORROW

“Then he comes to the important task of assuring God that he is sorry. He remembers how good God has been, and he contrasts God’s goodness with his own selfishness, ingratitude, meanness, and contemptibleness. He thinks of the good, beautiful, all-satisfactory God and contrasts himself. That rather makes him want to crawl.

“Then he takes a brief glimpse into hell. “That won’t do at all. God save me from that.” He lifts his eyes toward heaven. “I must reach that, no matter what.God, help me and keep me from things that interfere with that eternal joy.” He gives a swift glance at purgatory. There in God’s prison-house he’ll burn out the venial sins that didn’t seem very important. “God, forgive me my venial sins.” He then lifts his eyes to the crucifix. “That is what sin did, my personal sins. Mortal sins slashed that back, crowned that head, drove those ghastly wounds into hands and feet and side. Venial sins spit in that face, and slapped it with the backs of their hands. My God, I”m sorry.” “I don’t need to tell you, surely, that this is so essential that the most precisely correct recital of one’s sins, down to the last gesture of impatience, is a perfectly wasted and futile performance unless the penitent is genuinely sorry for his sins.

THE FUTURE

“Then quietly he faces the future. “My God, I don’t want to commit these sins again. I certainly don’t want to repeat my former follies. I may fall in the future. Judging from my weakness in the past, this is not improbable. But I won’t, not deliberately. Give me Your grace, my God, and I promise not to sin again.”

“You know, ill-informed Protestants have a silly idea that we Catholics go to confession, rattle off our sin come out and start all over again with a blithe heart and a clear conscience. We know our confession is valueless without this determination not to sin again.” “But,” said Mr. Fisher slowly, “I”m Afraid that most of us know in our hearts we will.” Father Hall was very earnest.”That’s not the point. Perhaps our past experience has been most discouraging. Perhaps we face the future with real fear. Yet here and now we know that sin is a stupid, criminal performance, and we are determined to do what we can to eliminate it for the future. We may fail. That is not the question. Right now we are resolved to use the help God has given us, notably Holy Communion and prayer and penance, to avoid the people and things that made us slip before, and to trust His grace. That’s enough.”

THEN CONFESS

An audible sigh went round the group, real relief expressing itself outwardly.”And after all that—the act of thanksgiving, the prayer for light, the examination of conscience, the act of contrition, and the promise not to sin again

-then,” Father Hall’s voice became humorously casual as if he had reached an anti-climax, “then we go to confession.”

They all relaxed, sitting back in their chairs. “Well, all I have to say,” was the emphatic comment of their host, “is that that’s a mighty different performance from what I”ve been going through.”

SILLY SINS

“No wonder confession has seemed dull and uninspiring.” “But suppose you have nothing but those silly little sins that you tell week after week.” Mr. Byrnes was very earnest. “Oh, you mean the kind that didn’t crucify Christ, but are awfully annoying to the family?”

“Ask me to mention a few of them,” said the lady’s husband, sadly. “It wouldn’t be a bad idea,” said Father Hall, “to dodge a deal of purgatory by getting rid of those through confession. However, it’s worth remembering that while happiness in the next world is lost by mortal sin, this world is made horribly unpleasant by venial sins—small jealousies, petty meannesses, uncharitableness, small lies, fits of anger, nagging.

“If in each confession we concentrated on one venial sin, or, perhaps, did this for a series of confessions, told God we were sincerely sorry and wanted to be rid of that, we’d he helping our own souls-”And wouldn’t that improve the world?” commented Mr. Byrnes. His wife nodded sagely. “I”11 give you a list you might start on, too.”

GRACE

“Besides that. when we go to confession, we get, in addition to the forgiveness of our sins, the grace of the sacrament. I”m afraid we forget all about that.But because of that grace, we don’t sin so easily, we are protected in temptations to mortal sin, we grow spiritually stronger, our souls are much more beautiful for Christ in Holy Communion, and we are preparing for our selves a higher place in heaven.”

“Strange,” murmured Mrs. Bradley, “but I really had forgotten all about that part of the sacrament.” “Regrettably, most people have. Confession was given not only to stop people from being sinners. Most important, it was given to help them to be saints. Confession should be a source of joy and consolation, and of strength for life’s difficult fights with a strong accent on the strength.”

NEGLECTED EXPERTS

Father Hall looked around with a slow smile. “As a priest, may I say I”m really disappointed in you?” “Not surprised,” said Mr. Fisher. “But for which of many reasons?” “Because I”d like to wager not one of you ever really uses the priest.” There was so puzzled a look on every face that Father Hall laughed boyishly. “I”m terribly weary of Catholics who seem to think that I”m just a kind of automaton, sitting there in the darkness of the confessional wiping out their sins. They present their soul! I apply a wet cloth with a disinfectant, and off they go with nice, clean, shining surfaces, where before there were ugly scrawls and blotches and blots.

“Well, I”m not an automaton. I”m a h ighly trained specialist in human problems.I”m a physician of souls. I spent long years and patient study getting ready to help people by my advice and direction, and guidance, and if I speak to them, they shy away from me as if I had (forgive me) either a bad attack of scarlet fever or a Highly developed taste for green onions.” “Maybe,” taunted Mr.Bradley, “you have.” “Believe me,” said the priest, shaking a doleful head, “the taste for green onions is all too frequently on the other side of the grille. But why this shyness? Why this refusal to use the services of a specialist who is set aside by God and Church, not merely to wash your muddy souls, but to help you shine them up gloriously for eternity? “How many of you have a regular confessor?”

A FRIEND INDEED

“I have,” said Mr. Fisher. “The priest with the fewest people waiting outside his confessional.” “Not me, retorted his host. “I learned a long time ago: Few penitents outside, stern confessor inside.” “Perfectly normal, both of you; and yet,” resumed the priest, “until you have a regular confessor, you haven’t begun to get its full value from confession. Shop around a bit until you find a priest to whom you feel you can talk. Then tell him you intend to come to him regularly, and ask him if he’d mind discussing your problems with you. The chances are he’ll he pleased, and perhaps a little flattered.”Then go to him and realize that you have a spiritual friend, a wise father, a counsellor who will help you, not merely to avoid sin, but to become richer, in the spiritual sense, and finer, and a more fully developed person. How much happier a great many people would be if they had such a friend and guide!”

WHAT TO ASK

Mr. Fisher looked positively embarrassed. “Great Scott, Father, I shouldn’t have the faintest idea what to talk about.” “That annoying habit that bothers you. (I don’t know what it is; but you do.) Your difficulties in keeping your mind on your prayer. The sort of book you might need. Perhaps the question of a retreat. Problems of business, ethical, and moral problems. Questions of the family, the children, your employees. Future conduct that might become clearer just by being talked out with someone. Aspirations, hopes, ambitions. “In a short time, you may find that instead of sins toconfess you have virtues to discuss, and new heights of goodness to scale. I”ve never known a person, to have a regular confessor without thanking God for the graces and strength that came through him.”

A PRIEST FORGETS

The men were looking just a bit dubious. “I know just what you’re thinking.You’re not at all sure you want any priest to know too much about you. Well, in the first place, it is a good thing to have someone know you inside and out. Many a non-Catholic uses his lawyer or doctor for that.”Perhaps you don’t know it, but the priest in the confessional has been given a special grace by God. He forgets almost instantly everything he hears. Positively, if I had full permission, and were offered a vast fortune Icouldn’t repeat any single concession I have ever heard” “Really?” “Strange, but absolutely true. Yet, if a penitent returns to me, God gives me the grace to call up out of the past what he told me and what advice I gave. There is a strange continuity running through the confessions of penitents, binding them together. Outside the confessional, if I met the penitent face to face, I could, with the most extreme difficulty, pick up the threads. So you needn’t think that because a priest knows you in confession he’ll know you outside. Decidedly he won’t; and what’s more, he won’t want to.”But it does seem a little sad that these priests, who are trained as few men are trained to know human problems and human nature, to guide one to a difficult future or to solve for one a complex problem, are really used so little. Partly, it is their fault. They get the idea that people resent their interest. That is, unfortunately, often true.

But I know this would he a vastly better world and Catholics would be a much, much happier and holier race, if they used the priest in confession not merely as an automatic eraser, but as a friend, a physician, a guide and a father; and how most priests would love so to be used!”

********

Confession To A Priest

WHAT IT IS NOT, WHAT IT DOES TO SOCIETY, WHAT TO THE INDIVIDUAL

BY THE REV. W. H. ANDERSON, S.J

INDEX

I. -WHAT CONFESSION IS NOT

People’s mistakes about the Catholic Faith, and the charges of some who ought to know better, take various lines. They “shall say all manner of evil against you, falsely, for My sake.” The supremacy of the Pope is popularly denounced as ambition; the Sacramental system, as priestcraft; the science of casuistry, as the art of lying; intentions of Masses, as the greed of wealth. Definitions of dogma? they are said to be bondage to the intellect; spiritual guidance? it is bondage to the will; recommending almsdeeds? it is robbing the widow and orphan; evangelical counsels? rank Manichaeism; repression of error by Catholic powers? old-world intolerance. Such are the opinions about us in the public mind. We are all these things together; or now one, now the other, according to the humour of the moment. The wind shifts and veers, but the bark of Peter steers among many rocks, and is always close on a leeshore. “The Church of Rome,” says someone in a popular serial, “hardens the heart; but, en revanche, it softens the brain!” ( Of course the very opposite is the truth of the matter!)

The charges against the Sacrament of Penance are darker still. Men do not hesitate to accuse those whom Our Lord has consecrated to minister the means of grace to His people of being ministers of evil, of conscious, voluntary, systematic evil. Not only of being unworthy, personally, of their vocation to peculiar holiness-which has been the case (God knows) in the Church’s history-but they are supposed to be, in the confessional, agents of evil, instruments of evil, practitioners, teachers, inculcators of evil. Of evil most hateful in the eyes of God, Who is thrice-holy.

Men say all this in an easy, off-hand kind of way, which is by no means without its malice. Some of them, it is to be feared, would even feel sorry to be undeceived. Yet a person need not be knowingly malicious, or dishonest, to have some uneasy suspicions of the kind. It is riot hard to imagine a “man of good-will” saying to a Catholic: “Many parts of your system attract me. I feel their beauty, their solemnity and reasonableness, but I do not see my way through the confessional. There is something dark and mysterious there. What goes on in it? What is said and advised? I wonder what is confessed, and under what conditions it is absolved? Confession gives great power to man over his fellows: and man is a poor, frail creature, after all. Power is dangerous to him. Experience, and the poet, tell us that man,

““Dressed in a little brief authority,

Plays such fantastic tricks, before high heaven,

As make the angels weep.”

Are any such tricks played in that sacred tribunal?”

Now, to answer this man of good-will -not the professed calumniator, who gets his bread by unwashed falsehood- we make three statements.

1. THE CONFESSIONAL IS NOT A SCHOOL OF EVIL

It is repulsive even to put this in words, speaking, as we are, of one of the Holy Sacraments of Our Lord’s Church. Sanctity, as every little child may know, is one of the four great marks of that Church, to create and perpetuate which Jesus suffered on the Cross. [One, Holy, Apostolic, and Catholic.] And the Church is holy, among other reasons, in virtue of the Holy Sacraments which she administers.

They are the channels of grace, and grace is a gift from the All-holy God. But they who do not believe the Sacraments can only look on the outside of things. And what they see is not self-evidently holy, but simply mysterious. It may be holy or unholy for aught they know, for they know nothing, and can know next to nothing. People disappear within the confessional, and come out again. The priest is bound by the Sacramental seal, not so much as to hint, or breathe upon, anything he has heard. The person confessing is also bound to some extent, though not Sacramentally, yet by sacred obligations of trust and confidence. Why? Because the whole transaction is supernatural. It has no relation to any other mode of acknowledgement, or to any other manifestation, or to mere human and friendly counsel. These may be honourable to both parties, and advantageous to the seekers : but they are not Sacramental confession.

So our well-meaning man, having derived no light from what he sees, and perhaps little from inquiry, has no resource but to go to our books and find out for himself.

He goes, then, to our books-books that need not fear the light, though they were not written for him. They were written for men who are called to be practitioners in the most discriminative and delicate science that can occupy human thought. Such books are not less necessary because they must needs be partly concerned with painful details. Sin itself is a matter of detail; it is not only a general state of soul, but a succession of acts, words, thoughts, omissions. The confessor, like the judge in a court, hears about sins, and enforces rules for amendment, in detail. He must know the individual case of his penitent, and in all needful detail. If he did not, he would be like the falsely charitable man of whom St. James speaks, who says to the needy, “Go in peace, be you warmed and filled,” yet gives not those things that are needful- “what shall it profit?”

The priests of God, under the law, had the office of viewing, discerning, and declaring those who came to them, to be either tainted and excommunicated lepers or clean from leprosy. A whole chapter in Leviticus is occupied with the rules that were to guide the priest in this office of discerning. They make up, so to say, a treatise of moral theology on the subject of leprosy, issued by divine command, and in great detail. The leper is to come and manifest himself. What would it profit it he came to the priest muffled up, and not (as Our Lord bade the lepers in the Gospel) showing himself to the priest? This would be just like a sinner coming to acknowledge his guilt in general, not detailing it as far as is needed for the priest to Judge of his case. It would be neither more nor less than the “General Confession” in the Protestant prayer-book, which is easier to make than even coming to church.

A man who does not believe the Gospel must, of course, disbelieve the power of the priest. The Jews, disbelieving the Gospel, by logical consequence denied that power in the Person of the Author of Sacraments, the Great High Priest. Their objections, then, were the objections against the confessional now. They said,. “Who is this that speaks blasphemies? Who can forgive sins but God alone?” “Who is this that forgives sins also?” Perfectly true, if they were right in rejecting Christ. Perfectly false, since He is true. Our Lord can absolve by a word, for He is God, which the Jews did not believe. And, because He is God, they to whom He has given the power can absolve by a word-which most non-Catholics do not believe. The unbelief is the same in both cases. Men do not believe that the human is secretly endured with the superhuman power. But does anyone really believe the words, “Receive all of you the Holy Ghost; whose sins you shall forgive, they are forgiven them.” “I will give to you (Peter) the keys of the Kingdom of Heaven; and whatsoever you shall loose on earth, it shall be loosed also in heaven”? Then for that man to suppose it needless that the conscience of the penitent should be examined, and that the priest should be instructed to examine it, is to show a want of good sense that men would be ashamed of in any question of politics, commerce, or social science.

It is a pity, they who are so ready to quote, translate, or caricature our books, when it seems to suit their purpose, should not quote and translate other passages in them, quite as easy to find. For on the threshold of treatises on some departments of moral science, none the less needful to divers classes of souls because they are painful and distressing, the student is solemnly warned to study with the fear and thought of God before his eyes; to study them simply for His glory and his neighbour’s good; in a spirit, not of curiosity, but of humble prayer. Subjects, without which a treatise on moral science would be as fatally incomplete as an imperfect treatise on physical healing, are entered upon reluctantly, and treated just so far as is demanded by the good of souls. They are to be studied by those for whom alone they are intended and, therefore, so written as to remove them from popular use. Students for whom these treatises are meant either possess or aspire to the supernatural gift of consecration to the priesthood. They are, by office, obligation, and rule, men of prayer, trained to keep their consciences jealously from every permitted thought of sin. They endeavour, and pray that divine grace may crown their endeavour, to look on the transgressions of their brethren as the sun looks on the foul places of earth, with undefiled eye; they only approach the field of swine that they may bring back from it the repentant prodigal.

Further, ecclesiastical students are warned that, when they enter on their ministry, and receive confessions, they are to be most careful in the questions they put. They are never to push them beyond what is really needful. They are to err on The side of too little rather than of too much; to consult more for the profit of souls than even for the integrity of the Sacrament; to avoid, above all things, suggesting, much more making known, what the penitent may be happily ignorant of.

In a word, prudence-the delicate and vigilant prudence of a saintly temper of soul, jealous for the divine honour and the good of others-is among the first qualities for a confessor. He is a physician of souls, bound to know his science thoroughly, and to apply it with careful, anxious discrimination. A medical man would be poorly furnished who had not read surgical treatises that gave detailed accounts of all manner of diseases and painful operations. Do these things corrupt or harden his heart, when his motive for the study is high and pure? Do people get up public meetings, and go about lecturing against him, because such books are on his shelves and such knowledge is in his head? Who denounces him as unworthy the confidence of the fathers of families, or of the purest ofa nation’s daughters, because he is a scientific surgeon, and not a mere blundering empiric? What the surgeon is in the physical order, the priest is in the spiritual. Rather, the priest has a science and an office as much more responsible, delicate, andneedful than the other’s, as the soul is more precious than the body, and the grace of God than bodily health or life. There is a most true proverb, that the surgeon should have “an eagle’s eye, a lion’s heart, and a lady’s hand.” And this, in a higher and better sense, is what the careful, prayerful study of moral theology tends to make the confessor.

How far does this common sense view of things enter into the statement regarding us, or even the wish and hope about us, of those who cater for the public attention, and for blind public prejudice, on the subject of confession?

2. THE CONFESSIONAL DOES NOT ENCOURAGE SIN

Here, again, we must put ourselves in the position of the inquirer. He sees people go to confession, and come back. Outwardly, they return much as they went. There is nothing demonstrative about them, either way. It may be hoped, could he observe minutely their conduct and motives, he would trace in them the decided benefit they have received. Not being able to do this, his conclusion is, and his fear for them (if a man of good-will), that they come back not greatly the better for it. Confession, he thinks, must become very much a thing of course, a mere routine, and people may be so habituated to considering sin, and to stating it, as to blunt a sense of its evil. They may lose the thorough determination to “go and sin no more.” Novelists, and such historians and controversial writers as are writers of fiction, contribute to swell this powerful tradition.

Two points of Catholic theology may be stated in answer.

(a) The gravity of sin.

Sins are mortal or venial. according as they destroy the life of the soul, by cutting it off from God, or only wound and weaken it-a distinction founded in common sense as well as faith, and acted on every day by the world at large. He who steals a handkerchief is not a murderer, nor he who strikes a schoolfellow a parricide. No man was ever hanged at the Old Bailey for a jocose falsehood.

Let us take venial sin. Is it a small thing, because it is smaller than mortal? Does confession teach people to make light of it?

Venial sin is the greatest evil under the sun, next only to mortal. One venial sin is a greater evil than all possible pains and misfortunes affecting mankind. If by telling a venial falsehood I could save the lives of all in a neighbourhood, of all in London, all in Great Britain, Europe, the world, I must not do the greater evil to save the less. No famines, pestilences, wars, no diseases, reverses, bereavements, or deaths the most horrible, can equal the evil of one little venial sin. For sin, even venial, is aimed against God, Who is the highest Good; whereas all other evils affect the mere creature. Theologians carry the statement much further; but this may suffice to our point.

Such is the doctrine of the Church, therefore of every priest in the confessional. Therefore, the popular apprehension about confession being a routine business. with all else which amusing writers of fiction have joked, hinted, or declared, is one unmitigated error. May it appear for them at the Last Day to have been an involuntary, inculpable error? Charity bids us hope it, though experience sometimes makes it difficult to suppose.

(b) The necessity that lies on all who confess their sins to resolve against them with earnestness.

Confession is not a process of rubbing out old scores and running up new ones. The penitent must be really penitent, or he cannot be absolved. Now, it is, of course, a part of real penitence to resolve to sin no more. To suppose otherwise would be a contradiction in terms. Moreover, this resolution to forsake the sin he has confessed must he firm, such as is likely to stand the brunt of trials and difficulties in serving God. It must be effectual, not a vague determination in general. He must specially propose to himself to procure means to improve and use them. He must resolve to surround himself with safeguards against a relapse into his sins; also, to avoid the occasions of them. It must be universal; his resolution must extend to all mortal sins, such as he has committed, or such as he might commit. The more thoroughly it extends over all venial sins, the better is the confession. Without so total an aversion from mortal sin, which is the death of the soul, it is plain there can be no true conversion to God, Who is the life of the soul.

3. NOR IS THE CONFESSION OF THE FAITHFUL SUCH AN ADVANTAGE TO THE CLERGY AS SOME ARE FOND OF SUPPOSING

On the contrary, it forms the most laborious and exhausting department of their work, for which they neither do nor can receive any remuneration. The honorarium given to the priest, as a contribution towards his support, by those who ask to appropriate the intention of his Mass is founded on the principle St. Paul lays down: “They who serve the altar partake with the altar.” But no such explanation holds with regard to confession, for no such consideration is known. It would be a distinct sin to accept it-the sin of Simony. The Sacraments are never the matter of barter and sale, and the confessor works on, in the tribunal of penance, with only one hope of remuneration. He hopes, at last, to hear from his Master, “well done, good and faithful servant; enter you into the joy of your Lord.” And his hopes rest on the consoling promise: “They that instruct many to justice {shall shine} as stars for all eternity.” (Daniel 12; 3)

These three considerations, duly and prayerfully weighed by honest inquirers, may do something towards shaking the gigantic tradition of calumny which the interest of some, the prejudice of many, have combined to build, and daub with very untempered mortar.

Prayerfully weighed, for, after all, true conviction is a matter of divine grace, and grace is won by prayer.

“A man convinced against his will

Is of the same opinion still”:

And this is why, all along, we have addressed the men of good-will. None other would listen; nor, if they listened, would heed.

II -IT CONFERS BENEFITS ON SOCIETY AND ON THE INDIVIDUAL

If some misconceptions have been now cleared away, let us proceed to two positive statements.

(A) CONFESSION IS A BENEFIT TO SOCIETY

For what is the greatest good of society? What, therefore, the object of an enlightened, philanthropic statesman and legislator? Surely, the production of good citizens, good members of the community; and, in this way, the greatest possible good of the greatest possible number. To suppose everyone good would be Utopian; it would imply a kingdom of saints. But a Government is Christian, a community peaceful and prosperous a people happy, in proportion as the condition of things tends to this result. Our condition of things is un-Christian, and the Government would seem to neglect a primary duty by tacit sanction of much that militates against public order and morality in the public press, in objects of art, stage exhibitions, and other like things. Free institutions, exaggerated, come to this: license to go astray, and to lead others astray.

But suppose every authority conscientious, and the powers that are, more vigilant in this respect than they are. Still, there would be a limit to their possibilities. The mark proposed to itself by an imaginary Government-somewhere in the Fortunate Isles as stated above, would be a high point to reach; but, “thus far it would go, no further.” Men of secular authority must needs stop at external acts, for they cannot penetrate beyond. If they legislated for these, and bore the sword of the executive for these in a Christian way, it would be a vast deal; it would do much towards bringing back the ages of Faith. If they who direct the widest spheres of action, they who are the rulers of public opinion, and who thereby mould and influence also the narrowest spheres of family life, would take a leaf out of the moral theology of the confessional, we should see an improvement throughout the land. To draw this truth out in detail would be writing a Utopia, and it is to be supposed our blessed twentieth century would not stand it.

However, such would be the highest point a mere human power could attain. When educators have done their utmost with a population, and laws are framed and enforced on a Christian basis, having in view man’s best interest, not material and commercial only nor chiefly, but moral, the human authority ends there. Why? Because man can only enforce outward conformity on his fellow-man. It needs a higher sanction of authority, and a spiritual motive, to reach the inner will. You may enact penal laws in terrorem, and execute them; you cannot move the interior assent:

“For who would force the will, tilts with a straw

Against a giant cased in adamant.”

Consequently, if legislators were wise, then, after the schoolmaster, the lecturer, the policeman, the judge, the prisoninspector, had each done his duty, they would call in the confessor. Rather, they would invite the confessor from the first, and be glad to promote the exercise of his functions. His business would supersede most of the others. For his sphere is the interior will. And if the best Christian makes the best citizen, is it not worth the inquiry, how far the best frequenter of the confessional makes the best Christian? Reason is perfectly good within its sphere, and Faith is never against it, though beyond and above it. So, too, education, treatises, lectures, social science, police regulations, prison discipline, reformatories, asylums for the insane, are all excellent; the spiritual influence in the spiritual tribunal is never against them, while always beyond and above them. Medical treatment is a right good thing when you have actually caught the complaint, but we all acknowledge that “prevention is better than cure.”

Let us note some chief points in which confession is beneficial both to society and to the individual, for, clearly, benefit to the former mostly involves benefit to the latter.

The statistics of poverty, crime, and lunacy would show two things : First, the appalling amount of misery rife in the community. Secondly, the enormous sums of money that we spend, or that officials spend for us, in vainly trying to prevent crime, then in punishing it, then in reforming (more or less well) the criminal. Also, in maintaining at our cost the incurable victim of crime, whether incorrigible or lunatic. Another interesting table would show the proportion borne, among Catholic criminals, by the number of confessions, previous to conviction, to the number of convictions. How often confession before conviction? Moralists tabulate convicts, as to whether they can or cannot read and write; then they reason upon their tables, and say, “See cause and effect.” It might show a surprising result if they tabulated convicts as to whether they have been going to confession or no.

(1) Drunkenness is one of the monster evils cankering society, and, if we believe medical evidence, all classes of society. Confession is the antagonist to drunkenness. It would be curious to discover how often the pledge is given in the confessional, and how many have dated their reform from that moment.

(2) The Social Evil must disappear in proportion as confession is frequented, in spite of our calumniators. And that in two ways: because of the strength there imparted against temptation, and because of the firm resolutions there exacted against relapse, and to avoid dangerous occasions of sin.

(3) Restitution. This is enforced in confession as an absolute duty, without which, where it is possible, or without the settled purpose of it as soon as possible, there can be no absolution given. Yet, here, again, confession supplies in its own more perfect way what the human legislature, and executive aim at, and can only attain in part. The natural conscience of man testifies to the need of restitution; witness the public acknowledgements of the Chancellor of the Exchequer from time to time, on the receipt of unclaimed taxes. But an executive can only enforce the repair of the fraud when discovered. The confessor detects it in its source, the will, and he heals it there, before it has come out in act, or while the act is still hid from the knowledge of man. Voltaire, amid his impieties, as though forced for a moment to speak the truth, somewhere acknowledges the wholesome influence of confession in this respect. Whether he did so or no, it needs little observation to bring any thinking man to that conclusion.

But restitution is not only of goods ill-gotten or detained. It is also of good name and character taken away. Is this no benefit to society at large, and to the peace and happiness of families? Characters taken away must be restored-restored with a publicity that shall bear proportion to the wrong inflicted.

Here we see the result and the benefit. In how many cases of prevention do the result and the benefit remain unknown?

(4) The secret societies that have worked so much evil, and work it today, and will work more yet, are directly opposed by confession. This is so true, and the propagandists of those societies are so well aware of it, that they inculcate on their disciples to keep away from confession, or to come with sacrilege on their lips, concealing their membership. We have yet to see the final result of those ungodly combinations. But whatever evil they may bring on society would be simply prevented by frequenting the confessional, in which they are unconditionally forbidden. [Note this was written before the disasters of Mexico and Spain in the 1930”s, and the evils of Ku-Klux in America or Mau-Mau in Kenya, were widely known.]

(5) Madness. Intemperance and ill-regulated affection are stated by competent judges to be among the chief causes of insanity. Both of these are directly met by confession. But its remedies for an insane mind extend more widely. For madness ensues on solitude of spirit. A mind becomes morbid when shut up within itself, and where it has no outlet of thought, nor authoritative adviser and guide.

(Footnote, Coleridge wrote:

“Each pore and natural outlet withered up

By ignorance, and parching poverty,

His energies roll inward on himself,

And stagnate and corrupt, till, changed to poison,

They break out on him, like a loathsome plague-spot.

Then we call in our pampered mountebanks,

And this is their best cure!” etc.

Or, take Macbe th’s yearnings for some such external and effectual remedy:- “Canst thou not minister to a mind diseased,

Pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow,

Raze out the written troubles of the brain,

And with some sweet, oblivious antidote

Cleanse the foul bosom of that perilous stuff

That weighs upon the heart?”

To which the doctor, like many another, answers:

“Therein the patient

Must minister to himself !”

And the guilty wretch exclaims, naturally enough:

“Throw physic to the dogs-I’ll none of it!”)

Hence, people fall into delusions, into fixed ideas about themselves and those around them. From such evils they might be freed by one word spoken to them in the confessional. But they go through life without having that one word spoken to them. Hence, in abandoning the practice of confession, society relinquishes one chief safeguard against the mischievous, incapacitating, and even fatal delusions of its members.

(6) Hatred and quarrels. Among the impulsive nations of the South you sometimes see pistols and poniards suspended by the altars, near those confessionals where the fatal purpose of revenge has been abandoned. These are but some few tokens of the numberless unknown instances of the Church enforcing the Gospel precept, “First go to be reconciled toyour brother, and then come and offer your gift.” This is doing the work of the most perfect police force, since it not only detects a crime meditated, but prevents it beforehand, and hinders the recurrence of the danger by healing the morbid will from which that danger springs.

(B) MORE CLOSELY, AS TO THE BENEFIT CONFERRED BY CONFESSION ON THE INDIVIDUAL

(1) Besides pronounced forms of insanity. there are morbid states of mind, distressing to the sufferers and their friends; religious melancholy, exaggerated fears, unbalanced by a perception of the divine mercies; a false conscience under various departments of duty; scruples of many kinds; apprehensions of having committed the sin against the Holy Ghost-the unpardonable sin. These are not fanciful pictures, but painful realities. No clergyman, even non-Catholic, no superintendent of an asylum, no medical man, but has had experience of such cases. They have no adequate remedy out of the Catholic Church; they are authoritatively healed in the confessional. The priest is empowered, as a servant of God administering His Sacrament, to declare, by His law applied to the individual case, such and such a fear to be groundless, such and such a view of duty to be out of balance.

So he heals, consoles, strengthens, sends the penitent on his way rejoicing, with “Go in peace.” On this whole subject let any inquirer, if he have the means and the leisure, construct a tabulated statement of the number of insane Catholics who have frequented confession, and of insane non-confessing Catholics, and then, again, of insane non-Catholics.

(2) General guidance on all matters of duty; instruction on duties unknown; reawakened perceptions of duties ignored or forgotten; direction and decision on duties that seem conflicting. Consider the anxiety and misery of doubts as to duty; how they cramp and weaken the soul; how they impede useful energy. Yet how frequent they are in a world where duty is often so tangled a path! Then,how difficult it is to decide in one’s own case, if people have any humility or any keen sense of responsibility! We cannot, in the most important matters, always adjust them for ourselves.

The confessional does this, and unerringly, as far as the penitent is concerned, for “he that hears you hears Me.” And spiritual writers are agreed that, even should the priest decide erroneously, the obedient soul cannot go wrong. This, then, is nothing less than the echo of the voice of God to the soul. It is the light shining on the priest’s breast-plate in the holy place, giving an assured oracle of the divine will.

(3) Whatever belongs to the higher ranges of the spiritual life is also met and provided for: instruction in the most perfect modes of prayer, and every step on the path to evangelical perfection. But in these few notes we have been occupied only with the outworks and buttresses; such other things concern the inner shrine.

Confession, and confession only, has here been spoken of, because the slanders of the day have made the topic more urgent. Small wonder that people who have no means of testing what they hear said are disquieted. They desire to see the system fairly “unmasked.” So do we. The object of this brief summary is to help in the unmasking. We desire nothing better than a frank and fair disclosure, to public opinion, of the confessional, in the true character of its working Souls beyond the Church’s pale are at this day craving for confession on every side; some practise it, many wish they dared do so. Anglican confessions are becoming frequent. We fear for them much, for in the hands of unauthorized ministers such practices are always dangerous, and may be noxious, or even fatal. But they are witnesses that the confessional is ordained by God, who prepares the soul to use it and to benefit by the use.

We will further suggest this. Let anyone take this little tract to the first instructed and practical Catholic, and say, “Tell me-by your personal experience, Is what I read here true?” Then let him go on his knees and pray for grace to see the truth. Almighty God will not refuse to teach him, if he asks with a real, earnest wish to know, and to follow on. “You shall know, and shall follow on, that you may know the Lord.”

********

Confidence In Prayer

BY SAINT ALPHONSUS LIGUORI

FROM ‘‘THE GREAT MEANS OF SALVATION AND OF PERFECTION.’’

INDEX

ON THE CONFIDENCE WITH WHICH WE OUGHT TO PRAY

The condition which Saint James insists on, as most indispensable for the efficacy of prayer is, that we pray with a secure and unhesitating confidence of being heard. ‘But let him ask in faith, nothing wavering.’—(Saint James 1:6.) Saint Thomas teaches,(Summa Theologica 2. 2. Question 83, article 2) that ‘prayer derives from charity its virtue to merit a reward, and from faith and confidence, its efficacy to obtain the objects of our petitions.’ The same doctrine is inculcated by Saint Bernard, who says, that ‘confidence alone obtains mercy from the Lord.’ (Saint Bernard’s Sermon 3, ‘de Annunciation.’) Confidence in God’s mercy is exceedingly pleasing to His divine Majesty, because it is a tribute of homage and praise to His infinite goodness,—the attribute which He wished particularly to manifest to the world, by the creation of man.

‘Let all them,’ said the Royal Prophet, ‘be glad that hope in you: they shall rejoice for ever, and you shall dwell in them.’—(Psalm 5:11–12.) God protects and saves allwho confide in Him: ‘He is the protector of all that trust in Him.’—(Psalm 17:31. It is Psalm 18:30 in the Hebrew.) ‘You who save them that trust in You.’—(Psalm 16:7. It is Psalm 17:7 in the Hebrew.)

Oh! What splendid promises are made in the Holy Scriptures, to all who hope in the Lord! Whosoever trusts in Him will not transgress the divine law. ‘And none of them that trust in Him shall offend.’—(Psalm 33:23. In the Hebrew, it is Psalm 34:22.) The Almighty keeps His eyes constantly fixed on those who confide in His goodness, to preserve them from the death of sin. ‘Behold,’ says David, ‘the eyes of the Lord are on them that fear Him, and on them that hope in His mercy, to deliver their souls from death.’—(Psalm 32:18. It is Psalm 33:18 in the Hebrew.) And again He says, ‘Because he hoped in me I will deliver him: I will protect him: I will deliver him, and I will glorify him.’—(Psalm 90:14–15. In the Hebrew, it is Psalm 91:14–15.)) Mark the reason why God promises these favours: because, says the Lord, he confided in me, I will protect him; I will deliver him from his enemies, and from the danger of offending, and I will give him eternal glory.

Isaiah, speaking of those who put their trust in God, says, ‘But they that hope in the Lord, shall renew their strength, they shall take wings as the eagles, they shall run and not be weary, they shall walk and not faint.’—(Isaiah 40:31.) They shall lay aside their weakness, and put on the strength of God; they shall not faint, nor even be fatigued in treading the rugged ways of salvation, but shall run and fly like the eagle. ‘In silence and in hope shall your strength be.’—(Isaiah 30:15.) The holy prophet tells us, that all our strength consists in placing our entire hope in God, and in silence, or in reposing peacefully in the arms of His mercy, casting away all confidence in our own efforts, or in human means.

And has it ever happened that he who trusted in God was lost? ‘No one has hoped in the Lord, and has been confounded.’—(Ecclesiasticus 2:11.)David’s confidence gave him a security of eternal life: ‘In You, O Lord, have I hoped, let me never be confounded.’—(Psalm 30:1–2. It is Psalm 31:1 in the Hebrew.) Is it possible that God should become a deceiver, and that after having promised support in their dangers to all who trust in Him, He should forsake them when they invoke His assistance?

‘God,’ says Saint Augustine, ‘is not a deceiver, who offers His protection and afterwards withdraws Himself from us, when we place our trust in Him.’ ‘Blessed is the man,’ says David, ‘that trusts in You.’ And why? Because, says the Psalmist, ‘mercy shall encompass him that hopes in the Lord.’—(Psalm 31:10. It is Psalm 32:10 in the Hebrew.) He is surrounded and protected on every side by the Almighty, and is secured against his enemies, and the danger of eternal damnation.

Hence, the apostle exhorts us so earnestly, not to suffer our confidence in God to be impaired: ‘Do not therefore lose your confidence, which has a great reward.’—(Hebrews 10:35.) The graces which we shall receive from God, will be proportioned to our confidence: if it be strong and free from wavering, they shall be abundant: ‘Great faith deserves a great reward.’ Saint Bernard compares the divine mercy to an immense fountain, which gives out its salutary waters in proportion to the magnitude of the vessel of confidence in which they are to be carried: ‘You, O Lord,’ he says, ‘do not pour the oil of mercy, unless into vessels of confidence,’—(Saint Bernard Sermon 3, ‘de Annunciation.’) ‘Let your mercy, O Lord,’ says the prophet, ‘be upon us, as we have hoped in You.’—(Psalm 32:22. It is Psalm 33:22 in the Hebrew.)

This was verified in the centurion, whose confidence was praised by the Redeemer: ‘Go,’ said our Lord to him, ‘and as you have believed, so be it done to you.’—(Saint Matthew 8:13.) Our Lord once revealed to Saint Gertrude that they who pray with confidence, do violence to Him in such a manner, that they must be heard, and obtain whatever they ask. ‘Prayer,’ says Saint John Climacus, ‘piously does violence to God.’ Yes, prayer does violence to the Almighty; but it is a violence which is pleasing and acceptable to Him.

‘Let us go, therefore,’ says Saint Paul, ‘with confidence to the throne of grace, that we may obtain mercy, and f ind grace in seasonable aid.’—(Hebrews 4:16.) The throne of grace is Jesus Christ, who sits at the right hand of His Father, not on a throne of justice, but of grace, to obtain pardon for sinners, and perseverance for the just. To this throne, we must always approach with confidence, but with that confidence which springs from a lively faith in the goodness, and in the veracity of God, who has promised to hear those who pray with a secure and stable confidence. He that prays with diffidence, need not expect to be heard; ‘for,’ says Saint James, ‘he that wavers is like a wave of the sea, which is moved and carried about by the wind. Therefore, let not that man think that he shall receive any thing from the Lord.’—(Saint James 1:6–7.) His prayer will not be regarded: the unjust diffidence by which he is agitated, renders the divine mercy deaf to his petitions. ‘You have not asked rightly,’ says Saint Basil, ‘because you have asked with diffidence.’

David said, that our confidence in God should be like a mountain, which receives unmoved the blast of the tempest. ‘They that trust in the Lord shall be as Mount Zion: he shall not be moved for ever that dwells in Jerusalem.’—(Psalm 124:1. It is Psalm 125:1 in the Hebrew.) The Redeemer strenuously exhorts us to pray with a firm confidence of obtaining what we ask: ‘Whatsoever you ask when you pray, believe that you shall receive; and they shall come unto you.’—(Saint Mark 11:24.) Whatever favour you ask, have confidence that you shall receive it, and your prayer will be heard.

But you will say, on what can I, a miserable sinner, ground a secure confidence of obtaining whatever I ask? I answer, on the promise of Jesus Christ. ‘Ask,’ He says, ‘and you shall receive.’—(Saint John 16:24.) ‘Who,’ says Saint Augustine, ‘can fear deception, when truth promises?’ Can we entertain any doubt of being heard, when the God of truth promises to grant whatever we ask. ‘He would not,’ says Saint Augustine, ‘exhort us to ask, if He did not intend to give.’ Now He constantly entreats and command us in Holy Scriptures, to pray, to ask, to seek, to knock, and adds that ‘whatever we will, it shall be done unto us.’—(Saint John 15:7.)

To induce us to pray with suitable confidence, the Redeemer in the ‘Pater Noster,’ the ‘Our Father,’ the prayer which He Himself composed, has taught us to call God our Father, rather than Lord or Master, when we petition for the graces necessary for salvation; thus exhorting us to ask God’s grace, with the same confidence, as a destitute sickly child, asks for food and medicine from a tender parent. If a father be informed of the miserable condition of a beloved Son who is dying from hunger, will he not instantly provide food for his starving offspring: if he be told that the child was bitten by a serpent, will he not make every effort in his power to apply the proper remedy.

Trusting then in the divine promises, let us pray with a confidence not wavering, but strong and firm. ‘Let us hold fast the confession of our hope, without wavering, for He is faithful that has promised.’—(Hebrews 10:23.) Since it is of faith that God fulfills His promises, we should pray with a secure confidence of being heard, and should never be deterred from persevering in prayer by the absence of sensible confidence arising from spiritual dryness, or from the agitation produced by the commission of some fault. On the contrary, in the time of dryness and agitation we should even force ourselves to pray: for then, our prayers being accompanied with diffidence in ourselves, and proceeding form a confidence in the goodness and fidelity of God, who has promised to hear all who invoke Him, they will be very acceptable to Him and will be very readily heard.

O how pleasing it is to the Lord, to see us in the time of tribulations, of fear and temptations, hope against hope, or against that feeling of distrust which naturally springs from a state of desolation. For this reason, the apostle praised the confidence of the patriarch Abraham, ‘who against hope believed in hope.’—(Romans 4:18.)

Saint John says that he who places a firm confidence in God, will certainly become a saint: ‘And every one that has this hope in him sanctifies himself, as he also is holy.’—(1 John 3:3.) For God pours His graces abundantly on those who trust in Him. This confidence enabled so many martyrs, so many tender virgins, and so many helpless children to withstand the savage cruelty of tyrants, and overcome the torments which had been prepared for them.

We sometimes pray, but God appears not to heed us. Let us, on such occasions never abandon prayer, but let us rather redouble our confidence, saying with holy Job, ‘Although He should kill me I will trust in Him.’—(Job 13:15.) O my God, though you should turn your face from me I will not cease to pray, and to hope in your mercy. Let us act in the manner, and we shall obtain from God whatsoever we desire.

It was by perseverance in prayer, after her petition had been repeatedly rejected, that the Chananean woman obtained from Jesus Christ the object of her desires. Her daughter being possessed by a devil, she besought the Redeemer to deliver her, saying, ‘Have mercy on me, O Lord, you son of David: my daughter is grievously troubled by a devil.’—(Saint Matthew 15:22.) Our Lord answered that He was not sent to the Gentiles, but to the lost sheep of the house of Israel. The woman was not dispirited by this reply, but came and adored Him, saying with confidence, ‘Lord, help me.’ He again answered, that ‘it is not good to take the bread of the children, and to cast it to the dogs.’ But she said, ‘Yes, Lord: for the whelps eat of the crumbs that fall from the tables of their masters.’ The Saviour seeing her great confidence, said to her, ‘O woman, great is your faith: be it done to you, as you will.’—(Saint Matthew 15:27–28.)

‘And no one,’ says Ecclesiasticus, ‘has ever invoked the Lord without obtaining relief. Or who has called upon Him, and He despised him?—(Ecclesiasticus 2:12.)

Saint Augustine called prayer the key which opens heaven to us; so that the favours we ask descend upon us the very instant our prayers ascend to God. ‘The prayer of the just man,’ he says, ‘is the key of heaven; his petition ascends, and God’s mercy descends.’—(Saint Augustine Sermon 216, ‘de temp’). According to the royal prophet, our supplications and the divine mercy are inseparably connected. ‘Blessed,’ he says, ‘be God, who has not turned away my prayer nor His mercy from me.’—(Psalm 65:20. It is Psalm 66:20 in the Hebrew.) It is for this reason, that Saint Augustine tells us, whenever we pray, to have a secure confidence of being heard. ‘When,’ he says, ‘you see that you persevere in prayer, rest assured that the mercy of God is not far from you.’—(Saint Augustine ‘on Psalm 95 {96}).

For my part, I never feel more consoled in spirit, or more confident of salvation, than when I am employed in prayer, and in recommending myself to the divine mercy. I am sure the same may be said of all Christians. For it is a truth as certain and infallible as that God cannot violate His promises, that he who prays with confidence will be heard; but all other marks of our salvation are uncertain and fallible.

When we perceive our own weakness, and our inability to overcome some passion, or to surmount some difficulty, we should be careful not to imitate those pusillanimous souls who say, I cannot resist this temptation, I cannot discharge this duty, I cannot trust myself; but we should be animated by the example of the apostle, and say with him: ‘I can do all things in Him who strengthened me.’—(Philip 4:13.) Of ourselves, we certainly can do nothing, but, with the divine assistance, we can do all things. If the Almighty said to any of us, ‘Take this mountain on your shoulders and carry it; I will assist you;’ would it not be folly and impiety to answer, I cannot move such an enormous weight; I will not attempt a task which I have not strength to perform. When, then, we see that we are poor and miserable and wretched, and that we are encompassed with temptation, let us not be disheartened, but let us raise our eyes to heaven, and say with holy David, ‘The Lord is my helper: and I will look over my enemies.’—(Psalm 117:7. In the Hebrew, it is Psalm 118:7.) With the assistance of my Saviour, I will overcome and despise all attacks of my adversaries.

When we are in danger of offending God, or about to engage in any affair of importance, and know not what course to adopt or how to act, let us recommend ourselves to the Lord, saying, ‘The Lord is my light and salvation; whom shall I fear.’—(Psalm 26:1. In the Hebrew, it is Psalm 27:1.) And the Almighty will in fallibly dissipate our darkness, and preserve us from every evil.

You will perhaps say, I am a sinner, and I have read in the scriptures that ‘God does not hear sinners.’—(Saint John 9:31.) Saint Thomas answers, with Saint Augustine, that these words were spoken by the blind man, before he had been enlightened. ‘That,’ says Saint Thomas, ‘is the word of the blind man not as yet perfectly illumined, and therefore is not ratified.’—(Saint Thomas Summa Theologica, 2. 2. Question 83, article 16, answer to objection 1.)

The angelic doctor adds, that God indeed does not hear the supplications of sinners when their prayers proceed from a desire of persevering in sin; as, for example, when they seek from God assistance to take revenge of their enemies, or to execute any other criminal design. The same may be said of sinners who, while they pray for the means of salvation, have no desire to quit their sinful habits.

There are some unhappy souls who even love the chains by which the devil keeps them in slavery. Their prayers are rash and abominable in the sight of God, and are therefore rejected. And what greater temerity can be conceived, than to ask favours from a prince whom you have not only frequently offended, but whom you are determined still to offend. It is for this reason, that the Holy Ghost says by the mouth of the wise man, that the prayer of him who rejects the proffered knowledge of the divine commands, is odious and detestable before theLord: ‘He that turns away his ears from learning the law, his prayer shall be an abomination.’—(Proverbs 28:9.) To such sinners the Almighty declares that their prayers are unprofitable, that He will turn away from them, and will not attend to their supplications: ‘And when you stretch forth your hands, I will turn away my eyes from you: and when you multiply prayer, I will not hear.’—(Isaiah 1:15.)

It was thus He treated the prayer of Antiochus, who besought the Lord, and promised great things. But his promises were insincere, his heart was hardened in sin, his prayers proceeded from a fear of the chastisement with which he was threatened, and were therefore rejected by the Almighty. And he died a miserable death, eaten by worms that swarmed out of hisbody. ‘Then this wicked man prayed to the Lord, of whom he was not to obtain mercy.’—(2 Macc. 9:13.)

There is another class of sinners, who fall through human frailty, or through the violence of some passion; who ardently desire to shake off the yoke of the enemy, and fervently beseech the Almighty to burst the chains of death by which they are bound, and to deliver them from the miserable slavery of hell, under which they groan. If they persevere in prayer, their cry will be infallibly heard by Him who has promised, that ‘every one that asks receives: and he that seeks, finds.’—(Luke 11:10.) The author of the Opus Imperfectum in Matthaeum (the Incomplete Commentary on Matthew, of the 5th century), in his commentary on this passage, says, that all, sinners as well as saints, receive what they ask, and find what they seek. (See section 18)

The Redeemer says, that what cannot be obtained from a friend for friendship’s sake, may be extorted by importunity: ‘Yet if he shall continue provoking, I say to you, although he will not rise and give him because he is his friend, yet because of his importunity he will rise, and give him as many as he needs. And I say to you, ‘Ask and it shall be given to you,’ and so on.—(See Luke 11:5–10.)

Thus, persevering prayer obtains mercy from God, even for those who are not his friends. Saint Chrysostom says, that ‘friendship is not so powerful before God as prayer: and what friendship has not accomplished, prayer effects.’—(Saint Chrysostom, Homily 56.) Saint Basil teachesthat ‘sinners obtain what they ask, if they ask with perseverance.’ (Saint Basil Constitutions for Monks chapter 1.) Saint Gregory says, ‘Let the sinner cry aloud, and his prayer will reach the most high.’—(Saint Gregory, on the 6th Penitential Psalm.)

Saint Jerome observes, that after the example of the prodigal child, who exclaimed, ‘Father I have sinned,’ every sinner may address the Almighty as his father, provided he pray to be received again amongst the children of God.—(Saint Jerome, Epistle to Damasus, about the Prodigal Son.) Saint Augustine says, that ‘if God does not hear sinners, in vain would the publican have said, God be merciful to me a sinner,’—(Saint Augustine, tract 24, On John’s Gospel.) Now the gospel informs us that the publican,by his prayer obtained pardon: ‘This man went down into his house justified.’—(Saint Luke 18:14.)

The angelic doctor who has examined this point more minutely than any other writer, does not hesitate to assert, that God hears the prayers even of sinners; that, though their prayers are not meritorious, still, since impetration, (that is, of obtaining what we ask) depends on the goodness of God, and not on His justice, they have sufficient efficacy to obtain favours. ‘Merit,’ says Saint Thomas, ‘depends on justice, but impetration depends on grace.’—(Saint Thomas, Summa Theologica, 2. 2. Question 83, article 16, answer to objection 2.)

Hence, Daniel implored the divine mercy, saying, ‘Incline, O my God, your ear and hear: open your eyes and see our desolation: for it is not for our justification that we present our prayers before your face, but for the multitude of your tender mercies.’—(Dan. 9:18.) To obtain then by prayer the graces we ask, it is not necessary to be the friends of God; by prayer, we are restored to His friendship. ‘Prayer,’ says Saint Thomas, ‘makes us friends of God.’

Moreover, Saint Bernard observes that the prayers of a sinner to be cleansed from his sin, proceed from a wish to return to God: now a desire to be converted to God is certainly the gift of heaven. And ‘why,’ says the saint, ‘would God inspire the sinner with such a desire, if He did not intend to hear him.’ Hence, so many examples recorded in the Holy Scriptures, of sinners delivered from their sins by humble prayer. Thus King Ahab, (in 3 Kings 21:27, though it is called 1 Kings in the Hebrew,) thus King Manasseh, (2 Chronicles 33:12) thus King Nebuchadnezzar (Daniel 4:31) and thus the good thief, (Luke 23:43) were restored by prayer to God’s favour.

O how wonderful is the efficacy of prayer. Two sinners die with Jesus Christ on Calvary; one begs of the Redeemer to remember him and he is saved; the other does not pray and he is damned.

In fine, Saint Chrysostom says, ‘No sinner has with sorrow asked favours and the benefits of God from Him, without obtaining what he wished.’—(Saint Chrysostom, Homily ‘de Moysi.’) But why seek further reasons or authorities, when Jesus Christ has said, ‘Come to me all you that labour and are burdened, and I will refresh you.’—(Matthew 11:28.) Saint Jerome, Saint Augustine, and others say, that by them who ‘are burdened,’ the Redeemer meant sinners who groan under the weight of their iniquities and, that if these invoke the Lord, they will, according to the promise of Christ, be refreshed, restored to His friendship, and saved through the divine mercy.

‘Ah,’ says Saint Chrysostom, ‘you do not desire so ardently the forgiveness of your sins, as God desires to grant it.’ The saint adds, that ‘there is no favour, which the most abandoned sinner may not obtain by fervent and assiduous prayer.’—(Saint Chrysostom, homily 23, on Matthew.)

Mark the words of Saint James: ‘But if any of you want wisdom, let him ask of God, who gives to all men abundantly and upbraids not.’- (Saint James 1:5.) The Lord, then hears all who pray to Him, and enriches them with his graces: ‘Who gives to all men abundantly.’ The words, ‘and upbraids not,’ signify that God does not act like men, who when asked for a favour by one who had offended them, immediately upbraid him with his misconduct. It is not thus that the Almighty treats those who ask His mercy. Though their sins be as numerous as the sands of the sea, or as the stars of the heavens, He will not reproach them with their iniquities, when they ask any favour conducive to their eternal salvation; but, as if they had never insulted His Majesty, He will instantly receive and console them; He will hear their supplications, and will enrich them abundantly with all His gifts.

To animate our confidence the Redeemer says,’Amen, Amen, I say to you, if you ask the Father any thing in my name, He will give it to you.’—(John 16:23.) As if He said, sinners be not disheartened, let not your sins deter you from invoking my Father, and hoping to obtain from Him eternal salvation. You indeed have no claim to the graces which you require; you deserve nothing but everlasting torments. But, notwithstanding your unworthiness, go to my Father, in my name, and, through my merits, ask the graces you stand in need of, and I promise, I even swear, to you, (‘Amen, Amen, I say to you,’ is according to Saint Augustine, a species of oath,) that my Father will grant whatever you demand. O God! Can a sinner have a greater source of consolation, than to know with certainty that he will receive all he asks in the name of Jesus Christ?

I say that he will obtain everything which appertains to eternal salvation; for with regard to temporal goods, I have, elsewhere, already said that the Almighty does not always hear us when we pray for them, because He knows they would be opposed to our spiritual interests. But His promise to hear our prayers for spiritual favours, is absolute and unconditional; and therefore Saint Augustine exhorts us to ask, with confidence of receiving them, the graces which God haspromised absolutely. ‘What God has promised, ask with security.’—(Sermon 354 and the Glosses from Augustine on 2 Corinth 13.) And, how can God refuse what we ask with confidence, when He is more desirous of dispensing His graces than we are of obtainingthem. ‘He,’ says Saint Augustine, ‘is more willing to bestow His benefits on you, than you are to receive them.’

Saint Chrysostom says, that God’s wrath is provoked against us, only when we neglect to ask His gifts. ‘He is not angry except when we do notask.’ Is it possible that God will not hear a soul imploring favours agreeable to His will? When a Christian says, Lord, I do not ask from you goods of this earth; I do not seek riches, honours, or pleasures; I only beg your holy grace: deliver me from sin; grant me a good death; inflame my heart with your holy love; (which, Saint Francis of Sales says, should be more fervently asked from God, than any of His other gifts;) infuse into my soul a spirit of resignation to your holy will; can the Almighty refuse to hear such a prayer? ‘What prayers, O Lord,’ says Saint Augustine, ‘will you hear, if you reject those that are according to your own heart?’

Our confidence, when we pray for spiritual favours, should be animated by the words of Jesus Christ. ‘If you, then, being evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father from heaven give the good spirit to them that ask Him.’—(Luke 11:13.) If you, says the Redeemer, who are so full of self-love, and therefore so much attached to your own interest, cannot refuse your children what they ask, how can your heavenly Father, whose love for you exceeds that of the tenderest parent; how, I say, can He deny you the spiritual blessings which you seek from Him by humble prayer.

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Consecration of The Family To The Sacred Heart

BY REV. M. D. FORREST, M.S.C

INDEX

I

IS AN ACT OF CONSECRATION ONLY A PASSING ACT?

HUMAN words are but the fleeting expression of the thoughts of our mind, the aspirations of our soul, the emotions of our breast. Though our thoughts may be abiding, and our aspirations and sentiments constant, their external manifestation or expression is naturally transient.

Still, it would be quite false to judge of the power of words by the shortness of their duration, for, after their sound has died away, their effect may long remain, indeed, may be eternal. The words which the priest whispers over the bread and wine in the Eucharistic Sacrifice are fleeting, and yet, when the accents of the sacramental form are no longer heard, Christ silently abides beneath the sacred species in obedience to those fleeting words. Likewise, the words of the marriage contract soon pass, but their effect continues to bind husband and wife in a union that can be dissolved only by death. Again, the words of Baptism which the minister of Christ pronounced over us lasted but a few moments, and yet, long after the voice of that priest is hushed, even when his lips are closed in the silence of death, the character of Baptism continues to shine as brightly and freshly in our Christian souls as when our foreheads were still. moistened by the regenerating waters. Even the words of Jesus have long since ceased to fall upon mortal ears, but their meaning and their effect are so far-reaching that the Divine Master could emphatically declare that, although heaven and earth would pass, His words would never pass away.

Words, then, naturally pass, but their effect remains. Now, apply this truth to the acts of consecration which Catholics often make in virtue of some special devotion which they cherish. It would be absurd to underrate the value of such acts by the fallacious statement that they are almost meaningless or useless because they are so transitory.

An act of consecration is a solemn act whereby we make a perpetual offering of ourselves-an act the effect of which marks the whole of our lives, and establishes abiding relations between ourselves and the person to whom we are consecrated.

At times, indeed, thoughtless devotees may hastily make some act of consecration, and then live in forgetfulness thereof, but such examples no more militate against the value or efficacy of acts of consecration than the examples of thoughtless people who forget or refuse to pay their lawful debts tell against the validity or binding force of the verbal contract whereby they assumed such obligations of justice.

II

WHAT IS THE MEANING OF CONSECRATING A FAMILY TO THE SACRED HEART?

ALTHOUGH the whole human race, as well as each particular family, and each individual member, belongs by right of creation and redemption to Jesus Christ, we may, nevertheless, voluntarily consecrate ourselves to His Sacred Heart. Pope Leo XIII, in his zeal for the glory of the Heart of Jesus and for the welfare of souls, consecrated mankind to that Divine Heart; many Bishops have likewise consecrated their dioceses; and now the act of consecrating families to the Sacred Heart is proposed to Christian souls as a most salutary practice.

The consecration of a family to the Sacred Heart is the act whereby the father and mother offer themselves and their children to the Heart of Jesus in order to express their resolution of remaining closely united to that Heart of love, of belonging to It perpetually and entirely, and of devoting themselves generously to Its service.

Such an act is full of meaning, for thereby the parents not only acknowledge that Jesus Christ has the right, by creation and redemption, and in virtue of the Sacrament of Matrimony which they have received, to reign over their family, but they also declare and protest that, even if Christ had not already this inalienable right in virtue of those sacred titles, they would freely hand themselves and their children over to His Divine Heart, to be devoted for evermore to Its love and service. Henceforth the family is united to the Heart of Jesus by a new title-the act of perpetual self-oblation which the parents have made of themselves and their children.

III

WHAT ARE THE ADVANTAGES OF SUCH

AN ACT OF CONSECRATION?

THIS solemn consecration will bring down on the entire family and on each member the choicest blessings. The words of the offering will be wafted heavenwards by the Guardian Angels of the family, and will make sweet music around the throne of Jesus, Who will dilate His Heart and shed upon the family in richest profusion the graces of which It is the perennial spring. Rather, I should say, that, act of consecration will speed heavenwards like an arrow of prayerful love to pierce the Heart of Jesus, the fountainhead of grace, whence the purest streams of redeeming grace will gush forth to renew and sanctify the Christian family. Special relations, and abiding ones, too, will thence exist between the consecrated family and the Sacred Heart, which will guard the whole family and guide each member onwards and upwards over the winding, narrow,, rugged paths of life unto the vision of the glorified Heart of Jesus in the light of Heaven, and the perpetual ecstatic enjoyment of the measureless love which It sheds upon the elect.

As the result of such a consecration, the Sacred Heart will cherish that family as the object of a special predilection. All! it would need an angel to explain what it is to become the object of such a predilection, and even a celestial spirit could only inadequately express or describe to us such a reality, for in this life our clouded mind, even when deified by the light of faith, beholds but dimly the bright truths of God’s love, and only imperfectly grasps the clearest expressions of that. glorious reality.

In virtue, too, of the daily act of devotion which the family will perform before the image of the Sacred Heart, wondrous blessings will be constantly lavished on such a home in fulfilment of the promises which Our Saviour made to St. Margaret Mary.* Could we discern such blessings with the vision of the Guardian Angels of the family, how our hearts would expand with gratitude and beat with intensest delight! Tracing the life of such a family onwards from the moment of its solemn self-oblation made to the Heart of the Crucified, we should see the father protected day after day in his unselfish toil for his wife and children; we should behold the self-sacrificing mother comforted in the trials of which only a mother’s loving heart is aware; we should see the little ones snatched from the very jaws of ruthless temptations which would have destroyed their angelic innocence; we should see the most marvellous graces incessantly shining on the paths of the members of that family as celestial lights to guide them onwards, falling gently on their parched and weary souls as heavenly dews to refresh and invigorate them, streaming into their hearts as a supernal nectar to captivate them with the strength and sweetness of Divine love.

And then, when the Angel of Death had snatched a member from that Christian household, night after night, as the family gathered around the image of the Sacred Heart, before which that now absent member once so fervently worshipped with his loved ones, we should behold the glory of God gradually but surely dawning over him in the dark, penal fires of Purgatory, as the pleadings of the consecrated family arose like a sweetsmelling sacrifice to the Throne off the Heart of Jesus.

A certain priest narrated to me a touching incident which he witnessed in his ministrations to the sick. Arriving at the bedside of a dying widowed mother, he beheld five little children, the youngest of whom was but four years of age, each clasping a rosary-beads, and kneeling in pleading prayer around their departing mother. “And surely,” added the priest, “if ever a prayer pierced the clouds, the prayers of those little children did.”

We may say that the prayers of a family consecrated to the Heart of Jesus, which the members lovingly pour forth before the image of that Heart, on behalf of a member silently sojourning in the depths of Purgatory, will not only pierce the clouds of Heaven, but the very Heart of God Incarnate, and cause the balm of Divine mercy to descend upon the imprisoned soul and soothe it in its suffering, and shorten its period of expiation.

Oh, no wonder the infallible Vicar of Christ has approved of and blessed the project of consecrating families to the Sacred Heart. Listen to the sweet words of encouragement which his Holiness Benedict XV addressed to Father Mateo Crawley-Boevey, SS.CC., the zealous propagator of this devotion:

“In your zeal for the welfare of human society, you act rightly in stirring up, in the first place, and propagating the Christian spirit in family homes, by establishing in the bosom of our families the charity of Jesus Christ that it may reign therein as a queen. In acting thus, you obey Jesus Christ Himself, Who has promised to shed abroad His blessings on the homes in which an image of His Heart shall be exposed and honoured.”

IV

HOW TO MAKE THIS CONSECRATION

SINCE the consecration of the family to the Sacred Heart is a landmark in the Christian life of the family on its journey towards eternity, this act should be surrounded by all the solemnity and splendour which the circumstances of the family can command. A beautiful framed picture, or a lovely statue, of the Sacred Heart should be procured, and placed in a conspicuous and fitting place, and, if possible, a suitable altar should be erected before it. Some special feast-day should be chosen as the day of consecration, and the children should spend the day in adorning the image and decorating the altar, selecting the choicest flowers, and also procuring neat and even exquisite drapings. These conditions are not, of course, strictly required, and, though they cannot all be fulfilled, the piety of the family will supply for what is wanting in external splendour.

In the evening, at a convenient hour, the father, mother, and children will assemble before the altar of the Sacred Heart, on which a small lamp, or a number of candles, should be lighted as symbols of the living faith and ardent charity of the family; then the father will slowly and distinctly read the consecration, and the members of the family will repeat it after him, sentence by sentence. It would be well if each member of the family had a written or printed copy of the form of consecration; the whole family could then recite it simultaneously. If Our Lord has declared that, where two or three are gathered together in His name, He is there in their midst, how lovingly He will hasten to bless with His presence the family gathered together to honour His Sacred Heart in so special a manner!

Any form of consecration may be used. The following is the official form: Sacred Heart of Jesus, Who didst manifest to St. Margaret Mary the desire. of reigning in Christian families, we today wish to proclaim Thy most . complete regal dominion over our own. We would live in future with Thy life; we would cause to flourish in our midst these virtues to which Thou hast promised peace here below; we would banish from us the spirit of the world which Thou hast cursed. And Thou shalt reign over our minds in the simplicity of our faith, and over our hearts by the wholehearted love with which they shall burn for Thee, the flame of which we shall keep alive by the frequent reception of Thy Divine Eucharist.

Deign, O Divine Heart, to preside over our assemblings, to bless our enterprises, both spiritual and temporal, to dispel our cares, to sanctify our joys, to alleviate our sufferings. If ever one or other of us should have the misfortune to afflict Thee, remind him, O Heart of Jesus, that Thou art good and merciful to the penitent sinner. And when the hour of separation strikes, when death shall come to cast mourning into our midst, we will all, both those who go and those who stay, be submissive to Thy eternal decrees. We will console ourselves with the thought that a day will come when the entire family, reunited in heaven, can sing forever Thy glories and Thy mercies.

May the Immaculate Heart of Mary and the glorious patriarch, St. Joseph, present this consecration to Thee, and keep it in our minds all the days of our life.

All glory to the Heart of Jesus, our King and our Father. Amen.

The act of consecration ended, the family will arise, and each member in turn, commencing with the father, will sign the written formula which the father used while reciting the consecration. This document will thenceforth be carefully kept amongst the family treasures as an abiding proof of the devotedness of the family to the Heart of Jesus.

V

HOW TO REMAIN FAITHFUL TO THE SPIRIT OF THIS CONSECRATION

IT is not enough merely to make such an act of consecration; the family must strive henceforth to remain faithful to the spirit of that beautiful oblation made to the Heart of Jesus. As the child whose soul has been stamped with the character of Baptism is obliged to remain faithful to that great sacrament by leading a truly Christian life, as the husband and wife are bound constantly to live according to the solemn promise they made before the altar of God, so the Catholic family is in honour bound to live according to the spirit of its offering to the Sacred Heart.

In perpetual remembrance of their consecration, the father and mother, with all the children, will kneel every night, at a convenient hour, before the altar of the Sacred Heart which they have erected, or before the picture which they have suspended on the wall. Then one member of the family, preferably the father, will recite some act of homage in honour of the Heart of Jesus-the Litany of the Sacred Heart, or the Act of Reparation, or any other prayer or hymn in honour of that Divine Heart. This is, indeed, a simple and easy practice; but we must remember that we please Our Lord more by fidelity in the daily practice of a short act of homage than by an occasional outpouring of endless prayers. We may apply to devotion to the Sacred Heart what St. John Berchmans said on his deathbed, when asked by his companions what practice was most pleasing to the Mother of God, “Any little act, if only it be constant.” Yes, constancy is a characteristic trait of true devotion.

Each daily act of homage rendered to the Sacred Heart by the consecrated family will form a golden step in the ladder that will rise heavenwards from the Christian home; every such act will form a heavenly link in the chain that will stretch across the yawning chasm of eternity to the land of everlasting love. As the family assembles night after night to honour the loving Heart of the Word made flesh, the Guardian Angels of that Christian home will hover over its members, and record in the Book of Life each successive act of honour, of love, and of reparation as it speeds heavenwards to reach the throne of the glorified Heart of Jesus.

After this simple act of homage has been paid to the Divine Heart by the family as a reminder of their previous consecration, and in obedience to its spirit, it would be well for the family to recite together the Rosary of the Blessed Virgin, or, at least, one decade. This, of course, is not, strictly speaking, a necessary addition to the practice of homage to be rendered to the Sacred Heart, but the family Rosary is so beautiful and salutary a devotion, the Virgin Mother is so linked with her Divine Son, and devotion to her is so bound up with devotion to His adorable Heart, that no more opportune practice could be performed after the family have daily manifested their allegiance to that Heart of love.

Where there are children who are not blessed with a Catholic school, the father or mother, or one of the elder members of the family would then do well to instruct the little ones for ten or fifteen minutes in the Catechism.

The unfailing and necessary means to keep, the faith alive in our midst is the Christian instruction of children. The fact that so many young men and young women become negligent of their religious duties as they grow up is frequently, though not invariably, attributed to want of genuine, constant religious instruction in their childhood days. If children are to grow up in the practice of true devotion to the Sacred Heart, which necessarily includes the fulfilment of every religious duty, undoubtedly they must be patiently taught the truth, and shown the beauty, of the divinely established religion which is their supernatural birthright in virtue of the Sacrament of Baptism which they have received. Hence the daily catechetical instruction of the young is earnestly recommended in connection with the daily family worship of the Sacred Heart.

Our Lord will also bless in the most abundant manner the families who are faithful to this custom. If He has promised a special reward to those who give a cup of water to a child in His name, surely He will shower His choicest gifts on those who give the thirsting souls of their little ones to drink copiously of those life-giving waters of heavenly doctrine which flow forth from His Divine Heart. On the contrary, those parents who neglect the religious instruction of the tender souls entrusted to them by Providence will have to give a rigorous account of their stewardship when they .are summoned to the tribunal of Eternal Justice.

THE FAMILY AND THE EUCHARISTIC HEART WITH the Enthronement of the Sacred Heart in the Home is closely associated Family Devotion to the Eucharistic Heart of Jesus. Devotion to the Blessed Sacrament in inseparable from Devotion to the Sacred Heart; an ardent, tender devotion to the Sacrament of Love is, in fact, the living fruit of this devotion, as is clear from the beautiful Office and Mass which Pope Benedict XV approved in honour of the Eucharistic Heart of Jesus.

The invitatory (or opening exhortation) of the Office reads thus: “Come, let us adore the Heart of Jesus giving us the Most Holy Eucharist.” And the lessons of the second Nocturne, which explain the feast, are taken from the writings of St. Alphonsus Liguori:

“O, if it were only given us to comprehend the love that burns in the Heart of Jesus for us! He has so loved us that, if all men and angels united their power of loving, they would not attain a thousandth part of the love with which He cherishes us. The love of Jesus for us immeasurably exceeds our love for ourselves; He has loved us beyond all measure . . . That love impelled Him to remain with us in the Blessed sacrament as on a kingly throne of charity. For there He lives under the species of bread, enclosed in a tabernacle, stripped of His majesty, motionless and deprived of the use of His bodily senses, so that He seems to do nothing there but love men. Love desires the perpetual presence of the beloved, and therefore Jesus has remained with us in the Most Holy Sacrament. To our most loving Saviour thirty-three years seemed too brief a period to dwell with men on earth, and, therefore, in order to satisfy His desire to remain with us perpetually, He seemed to find it necessary to work the greatest miracle of all and to institute the Sacrament of the Blessed Eucharist. The work of Redemption had already been accomplished; men had already been reconciled with God; why, then, has Our Lord remained in this Sacrament? He has remained because He could not bear to leave us, for, as He has testified, His delights are to be with us. Indeed, that love constrained Him to become also the food of our souls, to unite Himself to us, so that our hearts and His might become but one: ‘He that eateth My flesh abideth in Me and I in him.’ O stupendous prodigy, O excess of God’s love for us!

“From the most loving Heart of Jesus all the sacraments have indeed come forth, but especially the Sacrament of Love proceeded thence in order that He might thereby be our companion through life, the food of our souls, and our sacrifice of infinite value.”

Every member of a family consecrated to the Sacred Heart will be lovingly impelled to practise special worship of the Holy Eucharist by frequently visiting Our Lord in the Tabernacle, often assisting at the spotless Sacrifice, and regularly receiving Holy Communion. And it would be a splendid and beautiful practice for all the members to unite, from time to time, at the Holy Table and together receive our Eucharistic King.

This practice will not conflict with Sodality Communions. By all means let each member of the family receive Holy Communion as a Child of Mary, as a member of the Sacred Heart Sodality, or as a soldier of the Holy Name Society. But, at stated times, e.g., on the fifth Sunday of a month, or on some great festival that occurs on a week day, the entire family could regularly approach the altar-rails and fervently receive Holy Communion as a family. This sweet practice of Family Communion would surely be the source of most abundant blessings.

SUMMARY

The Consecration of the Family to the Sacred Heart will unite the family most intimately with the Heart of Jesus, will insure the constant blessing and protection of that Divine Heart, and will establish abiding relations between the Christian home and the Fountainhead of Grace, whence copious streams will perennially flow over the family to purify and sanctify each member in its earthly pilgrimage and assuage its suffering in the realm of silent expiation;- while fidelity to the simple practices recommended will mean the unceasing worship of the Heart of Jesus, unfailing devotion to the Mother of God, incessant growth of the souls of children in the supernatural life by means of Christian doctrine, and a rich outpouring of choicest gifts on the whole family and each member from the Eucharistic Heart of Jesus.

“MAY THE SACRED HEART OF JESUS BE EVERYWHERE LOVED.”

PROMISES

Made by Our Lord Jesus Christ to Saint Margaret Mary in favour of those who practise devotion to His Sacred Heart.

1. I will give them all the graces necessary for their state in life.

2. I will establish peace in their families.

3. I will console them in all their difficulties.

4. I will be their secure refuge during life, and especially at death.

5. I will shed abundant blessings upon all their undertakings.

6. Sinners shall find in My Heart a fountain and boundless ocean of mercy. 7. Tepid souls shall become fervent.

8. Fervent souls shall rise speedily to great perfection.

9. I will bless every house in which the picture of My Sacred Heart shall be exposed and honoured.

10. I will give priests the power of touching the hardest hearts.

11. Those who propagate this devotion shall have their names written in My Heart, and they shall never be effaced.

12. I promise thee, in the excessive mercy of My Heart, that My all-powerful love will grant to all those who receive Holy Communion on the First Friday of every month for nine consecutive months, THE GRACE OF FINAL PERSEVERANCE: THEY SHALL NOT DIE UNDER MY DISPLEASURE nor without receiving the sacraments, and My Divine Heart shall be their safe refuge in that last hour.

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Contemplative Prayer

PÈRE DE LA TAILLE, S.J

INDEX

PREFACE

THE object of the present paper is merely to indicate briefly the nature of the general solution which traditional theology appears to offer to certain questions touching passive contemplation: the method of its process, the means of access to it, its trials, its place in the economy of the supernatural, the kind of direction which it demands. We assume as known the descriptions of the fact of mysticism which have been left us by such masters as Denys, St. Gregory, St. Bernard, St. Catherine of Genoa, St. Ignatius, St. Teresa, St. John of the Cross, St. Francis de Sales, St. Alphonso Liguori, etc., as well as St. Thomas’s principles concerning religious knowledge, whether the natural knowledge of man or angel, or super-natural knowledge given through faith. It is out of the comparison between these two orders of information-the experience of contemplatives on the one hand, and the principles of the theologian on the other- that light may emerge. For the last three centuries this topic has given rise to works which have ignited or fed the flame of ardent controversies the echoes of which I shall not awaken in these pages.

1. THE METHOD OF THE PROCESS OF CONTEMPLATION

Instead of using intellectual representations borrowed from the senses by the method of abstraction under the light of reason, which reflect the individual under universal traits, the contemplative attains to God by a process still analogical indeed, but not abstractive, and comparable to angelic knowledge, which does not separate, as does our knowledge, the universal from the individual, but reaches objects in their integrity. With reference to God, it is the essence itself of the angel which plays the part of representation or mirror. God, like all other objects, is attained by the angel without rational discourse: which does not mean without any intermediary, because, in the case of knowledge, whether of God or of creatures, there is necessarily the intermediary of an image or resemblance through which the vision of the spirit passes. Only the spirit does not use this mental substitute as a point of departure from which it gradually proceeds in its journey towards God. God is neither deduced nor inferred by way of causation or finality or exemplarity; all these methods being methods which belong to the abstractive intelligence. But in one single act the intelligence of the angel attains both to the mirror in which God is reflected and to God Himself, whose image appears to the spirit: an image which bears in itself the testimony of its truth, i.e., of the Divine existence, because it is not part of the order of abstraction to which alone it belongs to isolate from each other in God subject and the predicate existence, in order to associate them afterwards in a judgement which is the conclusion of a piece of reasoning. The intermediary in the case of the angel is then not the middle term of a syllogism; it is the luminous medium, as it were the refracting prism, through which the Divine Sun shines. The case is the same with the contemplative. It remains to be seen what is this luminous medium in which the contemplative attains to God. Up to the present we only know what it is not. It is not an abstract idea derived from the normal process of human information. Is it a new “species” placed in the spirit miraculously by God, and, in consequence, distinct not only from reason and its products, but also from faith, which is presupposed as present: since contemplation is the act of a believer, a faithful Christian, in fact, necessarily the act of a just soul in a state of grace, bound by charity to God? Here we must distinguish. It may, and does sometimes, happen that the intelligence of a contemplative is endowed by God with distinct pieces of knowledge bearing on certain supernatural objects: this is the case with intellectual vision which necessarily demands the medium of distinct representations. But such intellectual vision is not essential to contemplation. The proper and characteristic object of contemplation is the Sovereign Good, the good of the future life: an object supremely indistinct on account of its infinity which prevents its circumscription or definition, either proper and formal definition, or definition of any kind supposing a common measure with the object: so much so that contemplation becomes higher and purer in proportion as it further reveals and makes this transcendent darkness shine more splendidly. This is the contemplative way of knowing the Divine Goodness in all its excess. It is evident that no distinct representation will give us that. On the contrary, the light of faith, which is an obscure ray of the Eternal Brightness, if it emerges and disengages itself from rational knowledge founded on the senses, has the property of informing the soul about God, the central core of light from which it beams forth. In lumine tuo videbimus lumen. Contemplation is faith when it attains through the medium of its own light, which is itself the author and object of this illumination, Him who reveals Himself as our future happiness, the First Truth for us to contemplate eternally in the uniqueness of His Essence seen face to face, the Last End and Supreme Goodness which the soul will enjoy without veils, without any medium or obscurity. Then once more, and in the full meaning of the terms, in lumine tuo videbimus lumen: in the light no longer of faith, but of the Uncreated Glory we shall see the Beauty, the Divine Goodness which beatifies us, both glorifying and glorified, in the words of St. Irenus: Gloria Dei vivens homo; vita autem hominis visio Del. “The living man is the glory of God: but the life of man is the vision of God” (4 Contra Haer., 38, 7; P.G., vii, 1037). Here below this goes on in faith. But it must be noted that faith in the just soul is furnished with an octave the seven notes of which are fitted to receive the pressure of the divine finger, of the Holy Spirit, digitu, paternae dexterae. It is not a question of new “species” or representations or of an additional light: the notes of this octave are the susceptibilities of the soul towards the Divine Good which is the object of faith: susceptibilities which may be modified and affected in different ways by this Unique Object which, nevertheless, possesses the great variety of flavours, aspects, and characteristics in its infinite simplicity. So it may present itself, thanks to the communication of the gift of wisdom, as the felicity to be lovingly tasted at the present moment in anticipation of the happiness of to-morrow: a delicious foretaste and a pure enjoyment. This is what the mystics mean by “the taste of eternal life” which is known to those who take “long draughts of the living waters of wisdom and love.” Or, again, the same unique object may present itself as the goodness which cannot endure contact with any impurity or irregularity however slight, and then this light flashing on the conscience of the contemplative, which, as is inevitable on this earth, is still stained by some imperfection, will produce in it an inexpressible and intolerable suffering: it is the gift of fear which comes into exercise, bearing not on the fear of punishment, but on the fear and horror of incurring the slightest displeasure of God, or the slightest divergence between one’s own disposition and His. And so on with the other gifts, according to the speciality of each.

That is enough with regard to the object and the medium of contemplation with the diverse modalities which we find there. It remains to be seen how contemplation itself is introduced into the soul.

2. THE DOOR OF ENTRY OF CONTEMPLATION

No intellectual effort nor any positive effort can produce it, whether reasonings or far-reaching thoughts; nor any negative effort, such as suppression of distinct thoughts, silence of the faculties, etc. Its mode of entry is not of the intellectual but of the affective order, per viam voluntatis (S. Thom., In Lib. Boet. de Trin., lect. I, 9, I. a. I, ad 4 m.), like faith. Faith, even in its ordinary state, is engendered in the spirit by a pressure of the will-that is, under the influence of at least a beginning of love for the goodness which promises itself in eternal life, appetitus boni repromissi (S. Thom., Q. D. de Verit., q. 14, a. 2, ad 10 m). Actuated by this love, the intelligence itself is attached to the Supreme Good by a voluntary and loving affirmation, which attain its Object at the same time as the End to which the affirmation refers. The conscious finality of the intellectual act commanded by the will-this is the intellectual motive inherent in the act of faith. It is a motive which, to say the truth, is outside the category of rational motives. And since all evidence is either rational or not, we must say that it is without any evidence at all. In this sense it is inevident; not in the sense in which an opinion may be inevident through defect, as basing itself on motives of the rational order which lack the perfection of that order. Faith is inevident because it is foreign to that order which it surpasses; because it is outside that category which exists on a plane infinitely inferior to its own: more or less in the same way as an angel is inextended, not in the sense that he possesses the dimensions of an indivisible point, but because he has no intrinsic relation to the category of extension.

Thus the act of faith resides in the intelligence as the product of love: the product of the rudimentary beginning of love, the love of concupiscence, at least, in the case of a man who has only faith; the product of the love of charity in the case of him who is in a state of grace. Here we may remark that if faith comes first in relation to love, considered as a disposition to love, love, on the contrary, comes first in relation to faith considered as the generative principle of faith. Such reciprocal precessions constantly occur in theology and create no real difficulty because they have to be looked at as referring to two different schemes of causality, efficient causality on the one hand, material causality on the other. Thus the light of faith, although residing in the spirit, did not enter man by way of the spirit, but by way of the heart: there is its door of entrance; there is the passage through which God pours it more or less abundantly, more or less vividly, according to the degree to which love itself is living in us above every other affection or contrariwise is dominated or oppressed by self-love. The life of faith is love: the life-that is to say, union with the principle of life which is God in the community of the same spirit. Faith is only united to God in the community of the same life if it hangs on God by charity: then only does faith look on God as effectively being to us what He should be: another self and more than a self. Then only do we look with friendship on our Friend. Before that point is reached we look on Him who wishes to be our friend, but not with a gaze of friendship. I see that friendship ought to be there, I see that it is desirable, I even see in myself a desire for friendship which my look carries because it proceeds from it. But I do not see what is not there, and I do not yet see with the eyes of a friend ; although with my faith, such as it is, I see in God the love which calls forth friendship. All that is in faith, an inanimate or a living faith as the case may be. In the case of a living faith, all the perfection of a gaze of friendship on God is realized, if not to its highest degree, at least in a n essential measure. Now contemplation, as we have seen, is nothing but a loving fixing of the gaze on the Sovereign Good in the medium at once luminous and dark of faith. It is nothing but a particular and superior exercise of the virtue of faith. Hence it is clear that it is born under the empire of a love which is charity. But what kind of charity? Charity is in every just man, and in every just man it actuates faith; and yet every just man is not a contemplative; most people in this life are limited to a discursive prayer, to the knowledge of faith based on abstracted species on which the light of faith does not visibly fall, while the light of reason, of which they are full, is clearly visible in them. And comparing one with the other, contemplatives with non-contemplatives, the difference in charity is not necessarily a difference in degree. If a contemplative were to think himself superior in charity to one or other of his brethren who is not a contemplative, great would be his error. There may exist much greater charity in the Good Samaritan without contemplative light than in the mystic prevented by the gifts of God. The truth is that in the same subject, charity grows in proportion to the development of contemplation and vice versa. So that confining his comparison to himself, the mystic who notes his own progress in contemplation has the right to consider himself more highly endowed with charity than in the time in which he had not entered the contemplative path, and to believe in his further enrichment in proportion to his progress in contemplation. But the value of this testimony is confined to the time of actual contemplation; the contemplative cannot during the intervals rely on a past attestation of charity, for he may since then have lost the grace of God by his sins. It is true that a time comes for certain eminently favoured souls when their contemplation, as far as the substance of their intimate commerce with God is concerned, has no longer, or scarcely, any interruptions, although it is not always in the same state of vehemence or clear vision. Whatever may be true in these cases, inasmuch as a non-contemplative soul may have more charity than others who are contemplative, we cannot say that the charity of the contemplative differs from that of the non-contemplative in degree. How, then, does it differ? If we ask the contemplative, he tells us that the love which envelopes and points the direction of his gaze is an “infused” love. But theologians know that all love is infused, the least clairvoyant charity as much as the most highly developed. Where, then, is the difference? It lies precisely in this, that the theologian is pronouncing in the matter on the authority of Scripture and tradition, and does not base his conclusion on experience; whereas the mystic speaks from experience, with a certitude which would remain what it is, even if the evidence of tradition and Scripture, of which indeed he may be quite ignorant, were lacking on this particular point. This is to say that charity in the case of the mystic is not only infused, but is consciously infused, which is not the case with the theologian as such. The mystic has the consciousness of receiving from God a ready-made love, if such a phrase may be allowed, and this is why he says that he is passive, although love is an act, and the prayer proceeding therefrom also an act. Nevertheless, there is also passivity and conscious passivity in the fact that the soul knows and feels itself invested with this love of God. And this is why the contemplative soul attains the presence of God in herself, for the Sovereign Good is there enriching the soul with her full knowledge. She does not proceed by dialectical regress from the gift to the Giver; no; she receives the gift from the hand of the Giver, who is, therefore, present in a manner perceptible to the experience of the soul. This consciousness of the gift, this experience of the Giver, does not come about by means of the natural intelligence with ideas illuminated by reason; it occurs exclusively in the light of faith which “infused” love pours into the soul, in the same way as the Sovereign Good who diffuses this light makes Himself known in it.

Such, then, is the origin of contemplation. It is contained in this love which is passively received, and in the consciousness of this passivity which swoops on the intelligence and carries it above itself towards the Sovereign Good to which it attaches it in a dark light.

3. THE TRIALS OF CONTEMPLATION

Hence the trials of the contemplative life: we are not speaking of those which may attack it externally through the action of natural agents, human wills or evil spirits, bit of those which are inherent in the contemplative life by its nature, and which far surpass, in the case of certain souls, even the most acute external suffering in the world. To tell the truth, there is no proportion, no common measure between mystical sufferings and others.

The first suffering, usually far the least severe, is that of the progressive and laborious birth of contemplation. The light of faith does not emerge without tearing its human covering, without causing a strange discomfort, and involving painful renunciations of every-thing which composes the normal equipment of a life of nature already furnished with many habits, habits of the spirit, habits of the feelings, science, memory, points of view, ways of looking at things, corresponding attachments, etc. An operation occurs at this point in the spiritual order which resembles (if so commonplace a comparison may be made) the cutting of teeth in little children. And it may happen that the soul is for a certain time much more alive to what she is losing, to what is being mortified in her, to what is being reduced to silence and inactivity, to what is being dropped into the void, than to what is climbing the still clouded horizon. The more so that after all it is the soul herself, this self-same soul with her natural fires damped down, that has to gaze and see in this light, in accordance with a new and unaccustomed formula, and she requires exercise and practice before she can find herself at her ease in the task. Moreover, this new and obscure light, which only adapts itself well to eyes purified from the world of the souls, and from everything issuing from that world, will wound her eyes at first. Purification usually comes slowly, and the state of the soul during this period is that of an obscure night, called the night of senses, because everything happens as if no light were any longer shining in our relations with God; while the light derived from the senses and of the abstract intelligence has gone out, the light of the spirit, the pure ray of supernature has not yet got its clear outline, and is still unfamiliar. It should be noted that these initial sufferings are spared to children when God presents them with contemplative grace, because the child’s soul, fresh and new, has not yet any acquired habits to confine the exercise of the gifts and to obscure the light of faith; hence no rending of the soul is necessary; there are no living fibres to be destroyed. On this account, too, that light rises with much greater rapidity. This is why it is important that children should receive the Holy Spirit at the moment at which they can most profit by His gifts-that is, when they arrive at the age of the knowledge of God-and it is equally important that they should receive the Eucharist at the same age, because the Eucharist is properly the sacrament of charity, and charity, as has been said, is the force which initiates the soul into contemplation.

It astonishes us, though unreasonably, to see that little children receive from their early first communion an enrichment of divine gifts, such as many adults, though pious and exemplary, will never receive in this life.

The birth of contemplation being thus effected, it remains for the contemplative light now established in possession of the place to develop and emancipate itself more and more from all servitude and dependence and constraint coming from the nature of the senses (by which we must understand not only the interior and exterior senses, but also the whole moral and intellectual organism which rests on the senses, the whole ensemble of abstract knowledge, and the judgements which it engenders, and the affections and inclinations which it governs). There has to be accomplished in these faculties under the action of the light of contemplation, which confuses without enlightening or nourishing them, a work of stripping and subjection which may be very painful. It is easy to see that the work of contemplation would be interfered with if the spirit, instead of being wholly applied to it in peace and silence, were agitating itself and moving about in all directions under the influence of its own natural activity. All that has to be mortified. There is more: in the case of most men, the tendencies which have developed in their moral being under the influence of their free activity are full of impurities and irregularities. All this has to be straightened out or cut off-a painful task, and the more so that it may be accomplished without any compensation. In certain cases, the light of faith under a delightful touch of God will send rippling through the entire being a heavenly and intoxicating joy which the natural faculties can hardly contain, so intensely are they saturated with it. But under a different touch, which either does not correspond with joy, but with suffering or fear, or merely corresponds with a secret joy withdrawn to the closed centre or inhabiting an inaccessible height of the soul, and absolutely without communication with the natural man, the purification of the human element has to go on either without any correlative enjoyment (the second case), or in a state of torment and desolation due to the painful character of the contemplation itself (the first case). But all this is only the smallest part of the sufferings of contemplatives. The highest, the keenest, as also the most incomprehensible of these sufferings does not occur in the domain of the natural man, but in that of the spiritual man, in the very region where the contemplative light dwells in the sensibility (not only immaterial but ultra-human) of those mysterious peaks and hidden depths of the soul which receive and experience the Divine Gift. The reason of this suffering is that the Divine Gift is the gift of the Sovereign Goodness; and the Sovereign Goodness is so great, so immeasurably lovable that it causes a thousand tortures. First of all, the contemplative light may clearly bring out the disproportion between what God deserves and the little love that we can give Him, especially the little that, in fact, we do give Him. Under such an illumination as this, the soul could die of grief, could annihilate herself with shame, as a bankrupt debtor, as the most unjust and, consequently, the most criminal of creatures-in any case, the most unhappy. And the stronger the goodness of God shines, the more crucifying becomes the soul’s impotence to return it. Secondly, the contemplative light may fall no longer only on our fundamental insufficiency, but also on some remains of attachment to the ego and of fraudulent dealing with God in the enjoyment of pride imperceptibly fed by our very sacrifices, and make this appear in the face of the Divine Goodness in an aspect of horror which constitutes a real hell. The more the soul is urged by love to unite herself to God and live in His light, the more the sentiment of her own disorder drives her to fly, if that were possible, the glance of the Divine Love and to hasten to expiate, in some place of unheard-of punishments, the discord and the incompatibility which she has allowed to slip between her and perfect union. God is too good; His goodness crushes whatever is not absolutely and totally absorbed and lost in it, whatever keeps a self differentiated, however slightly (as to its views and preoccupations) from the Divine Friend. The perfect union of the soul to God may be compared to the unity of the Three Divine Persons. They are distinct in this sense only, that One is not the Other; but there is no diversity between them; All that One of them is, the Others are, without any exception. So the soul is not lost in God, as long as there remains even the slightest backward look on self which does not correspond to the manner in which God loves us and wishes us to love ourselves. The slightest touch or shade of self-love is a magnum chaos. And here is one of the highest, as it seems, and one of the hardest of mystical sufferings, the one which most resembles purgatory; it is the pain of the expropriation of the soul itself from the spiritual life, so that she neither loves nor desires anything, nor receives these gifts, and even eternal life except in a spirit of friendship. This state of mind does not, however, exclude the impetuous movements of love and desire, of love which places all its happiness in the good of one’s Friend, of desire which longs to know more deeply and more truly how beautiful, good, glorious, happy and perfect the Friend is. Now comes the time of Sovereign Charity when the soul only loves herself for time and for eternity, in accordance with the divine order. This state is not possible on earth in plenitude. It does not exclude hope-far from it-but it excludes from hope any purely mercenary element that prevents the soul from being concentrated in the gaze of a filial love. There is nothing beyond but heaven, where hope gives place to enjoyment, to the purest of all enjoyments: sufficit mihi si Deus meus vivit. I see the life of God, His happiness, His glory, His Sanctity, His goodness: and my happiness lies in seeing Him to be so good, so great, so holy, so happy: in seeing Him to be what He is.

4. ITS PLACE IN THE ECONOMY OF THE SPIRITUAL LIFE

Is contemplation an extraordinary phenomenon in the economy of grace like a miracle in the economy of the visible world, or is it a normal development as the tree is the development of the seed, and the flowers and fruit of the tree? We must reply differently according to the point of view from which the question is asked. Are we considering contemplation in relation to the Divine Providence, which ordains the course of events, establishing a bond of continuity between imperfect antecedents, and consequences which, although they greatly surpass those antecedents, nevertheless follow them in virtue of a law, such as the appearance of a human soul in the course of a generative process in which organic elements of a material order are the only ones engaged? Or, on the contrary, are we looking at contemplation in its relations with the subject in which it resides? There is nothing to prevent one and the same gift having in the will of Providence its place marked out for it in the normal prolongation of every spiritual life rightly conducted through a series of favourable circumstances-and this would permit us to describe it as “ordinary” and yet remaining transcendent with regard either to the elements composing human nature, or to the mental processes which give its specification to that nature-and this would permit us to describe it as “extraordinary.” Now, that contemplation transcends the characteristic notions of the natural man and the means at his disposal, even when helped by grace, appears evident from what has been said as to the character of its origin, which has no relation either to the sense-order or to the man’s property of abstract thought. But when this has been once admitted, it by no means follows that it ought to be so far classed among phenomena, which are exceptions to the divine law, and, in consequence, miraculous. On the contrary, the law of Providence on the growth and development of grace being granted, we can say in the case of a given subject, that when he has passed a certain point to which he can attain by his human exercise of virtue and supernatural gifts, there will be no more regular and normal progress for him, except by the path of passivity. This point of juncture is far from being the same for all souls. For some it is close to the beginnings of the Christian life; for others it is situated on a higher level of spirituality. So that certain souls may progress for a long time and very far and relatively speaking to great heights, by their own means with the assistance of grace, before reaching the point at which they have to pass beyond the confines of humanity, in order to enter the region of the infused light, which suffices to itself without any commerce with the sense-faculties, or borrowing anything from language and the conceptions of reason. Perhaps even this point may be further on the way than the last stage of their journey in this world, however faithful they may have been to the grace which was given them: the moment of the change had not arrived for them when death faced them although it would certainly have arrived one day or another, had they continued to live with the same fidelity for the necessary length of time. They lose nothing in comparison with others, since their sanctity may be greater than that of others already advanced on the contemplative path. Purgatory, if both contemplative and non-contemplative have to pass through it, will make things equal even as regards the process of union. There, both will be contemplatives, but the contemplation of the soul who possessed the highest degree of charity, whatever may have been her state of prayer on earth, will be incomparably higher, more lost in joy, and yet (all other things being equal) more rigorous and consuming, more painful as regards the purification which may remain to be accomplished; because love itself is the fire which attacks and devours the impurities of the soul, and that with a greater violence proportionately to its greater intensity and consequent hostility to them.

So contemplation in relation to the just man is at once both supernatural, and yet, in a certain sense, connatural. The ground on which these two different relations, the one to the subject, the other to the Ordainer of grace, meet, is that of the gifts of the Holy Spirit, of those passivities mobile under the touch of God, which are already in the just man before he receives the gift of contemplation, and which in the contemplative state are moved by God in the special manner required to cause the light of faith to emerge in its “nudity” before the soul, as a new and, henceforward, an independent medium, self-sufficing as regards both information and evidence concerning the God who emits it.

5. SOME CONSEQUENCES WITH REGARD TO DIRECTION

Firstly, since the soul even in a state of grace cannot obtain for herself contemplation by the exercise of her own faculties, it is useless for her to make efforts with that intention. Secondly, since contemplation occurs in the course of the normal prolongation of the life of grace, it is right that the soul should dispose herself towards it, first and principally by charity, to which the function of the introduction of contemplative light belongs, and secondly by the correction of bad habits of the spirit on the heart which might prevent this light from rising or being able to disengage itself from the surrounding darkness. As to desiring the arrival of this light as a proximate event, and asking God expressly for it as we ask for the things necessary or advantageous for us at the moment, it would be as if a child on going to bed at night were to ask God to wake him the next morning io inches taller. He will have those extra 10 inches one day; he will have them in their due time, if God gives him life. Meanwhile, such indiscreet desires are merely a waste of time.

So much for the period of approach. Once, on the other hand, contemplation has been constated, the soul should be urged to feed upon it and make progress in it, which means that she should devote herself to it, and make the necessary sacrifices: the sacrifice of curiosities of the spirit, of wanderings of the imagination, of the futilities of conversation, of occupations not definitely ordained to charity towards God or the neighbour, and, above all, of the liberties of the heart and sentiments, liberties which for charity are a slavery and fetters from which it has to be freed. It is most important to put the soul on her guard against self-love and egotism. She must not adhere to the element of delight in the divine communications; she ought, in spite of and beyond that delight, to seek God purely; that is, she should endeavour to enjoy God solely for His own sake as do the elect in heaven: sufficit mihi si Deus meus vivit; she should refrain from staining her enjoyment by such reflex glances of an egotistic complacency as would result from the pleasure she was taking for her own sake in the divine union rather than from the enjoyment of God for His own sake. If this tendency is not combated, it may become the most decisive obstacle to progress, and, at the same time, a source of deplorable illusion. Pride grows with illusion, and the final issue may be a very dangerous state; possibly a state of despair. Impossibile est enim eos qui semel sunt illuminati, gustaverunt etiam donum celeste, et participes facti sunt Spiritus Sancti, gustaverunt nihilominus bonum Dei verbum, virtutes saeculi venturi, et prolapsi sunt, rursus renovari ad penitentiam, rursum crucifigentes sibimetipsis (ilium Dei et ostentui habentes.* They cannot begin over again at the beginning, by the modest debut of an initial rupture with sin and a first sketch of the ideal prescribed by the Divine Model. They can only resume their course with a sure and persevering step at the point at which they left it. Their only chance of salvation (normally speaking) lies in their progress in the path of contemplation: and if they have fallen, if they have returned to the damnable love of self, with all the cupidities which it involves, what a gulf between their present state and the point to which they must raise themselves in order to start again without a further fall! Without reckoning that very likely if Grace knocks again at their hearts, it will, it can be, no longer under the form of a union of delight, it will rather come under the form of a union of crucifixion. Nevertheless, God’s gifts are without repentance, and to those to whom He has given much He is ready to restore everything at once, and give them much more than He had given them before, if only they will let Him re-enter their hearts by breaking down the pride which blocks His passage and resists Him. Only it is important that they should not dispute one parcel of their co-operation with grace, but give themselves up completely.

Humility and renunciation are, then, absolutely necessary for contemplative souls, and those are the dispositions which must be specially cultivated in them. The touchstone and the best exercise of these dispositions is charity towards our neighbour, the neighbour who is humanly speaking without attractions-that is, ordinarily speaking, those who have been abandoned and disinherited by nature and grace, the ignorant, coarse, and uncultivated, those who have lost their way, the ungrateful, our enemies: those whom we despise, who disgust us and wound our feelings. Here hardly any illusion is possible: here are gains without number for humility; here are the spending and expansion of a charity which is truly charity towards God, and which, consequently, produces a new impulse towards prayer, which in its turn stimulates charity afresh, and so on. But when the time comes that contemplation so completely oppresses the human functions of the soul that apart from moments of respite she is incapable of occupying herself with her neighbour or his service, it is evident that this rule no longer applies, except in intervals of cairn. In any case, during this period, the task of the director is not so much to direct as to sustain, to comfort, one can hardly say to console, this soul all of whose human faculties are in distress. It is the moment to show the reason blinded and abandoned by the light of faith withdrawn into its most distant home where, in all probability, it causes the spirit to agonize, that that light illuminates at least much more than it leaves in darkness; it is the moment to present to the heart the objects and truths the memory of which may bring a motive of action or rather of power to suffer, an encouragement to selfabandonment, to peaceful acquiescence and repose in union with the will of God. As to the direction of such a soul in her interior in which the divine light dwells, there is no need to trouble about it, for God takes charge of it. This condition, moreover, will normally be resolved into a higher state, in which the contemplative light, fully mistress of a fully purified soul, far from diminishing or countering her natural activity, marvellously helps it and multiplies its fertility. It is then that charity towards the neighbour reaches its height. This summit was for the Blessed Virgin her debut and point of departure, for she was all pure and perfectly governed from the first instant of her existence by the law of love and charity

* Heb. vi. 4–6.

NIHIL OBSTAT:

EDUARDUS MAHONEY, S.T.D.,

Censor deputatus.

IMPRIMATUR:

EDM. CAN. SURMONT, Vicarius generalis.

WESTMONASTERII, Die 16a Septembris, 1926.

First published, 1926 Second edition, 1950 Third edition, 1953

********

Contrition

THE GOLDEN KEY OF PARADISE

INDEX

INTRODUCTION

At first sight of this little book, that bears the highsounding title of “The Golden Key of Paradise,” perhaps, dear reader, you will be somewhat curious to know whether its contents are as good as its title. Perhaps you arc inclined to shrug your shoulders and feel as you do when you see advertised marvellous and infallible cures for all the ills that flesh is heir to.

No -be not deceived; this is a genuine key, and one you can easily manipulate. It is Perfect Contrition, which for the forty centuries before the coming of Christ was the only means of salvation for all those who had committed sin, and which even now is destined to save mvriads of souls. Look at its marvellous power. It can open Heaven every day, and every moment of each day. Especially is it efficacious if at the moment of death you cannot have at your side the priest, the dispenser of the divine mercies, an absence unfortunately only too common nowadays, on account of the number of sudden deaths. In this case Perfect Contrition will he the last key which, with the grace of God, will open Heaven to you. But it is necessary to learn during life how to use this key at the moment of death. How many souls that otherwise would have been lost for all eternity have, by means of an Act of True Contrition, opened Paradise for themselves The learned and holy Cardinal Franzehin said “If I could wander through the country preaching the Word of God, my favourite theme would be Perfect Contrition.? Golden words, dear reader, with which I fully agree; adding, however, that I would wish to do the same from the pulpits in the cities, where the occasions of sin are greater and the dangers to one s soul are innumerable.

PREFACE TO THE ITALIAN TRANSLATION

THE Author, by a happy inspiration called this littlebook “The Golden Key of Paradise.” And, in fact, our true home, yours and mine, and of everybody else, is Heaven. This world in which we now live is not our true home. So true is this that, sooner or later, Death will drive us hence and send us to that Home Eternal. Now, in order to enter into the home of true and everlasting happiness, Heaven, we need a key with which to open the door. And in this little book you will find that key-a key of purest gold, fashioned by a zealous priest from the teachings of the Gospel and of the Catholic Church. This key is called Perfect Contrition.

Now, if Perfect Contrition is the Key to Heaven, it naturally follows that everybody should possess one, and know how to use it. And so, whoever you may be, or whatever may be your condition and state in life, this book is written specially for you.

Are you a priest? This pamphlet will call to your mind beautiful practical truths, the importance of which you may never have considered, and as you turn over these pages you will feel constrained to impart to your flock the wonderful knowledge that is yours.

Are you in a religious community? What peace can you not procure for yourself by frequently using this key.

Are you the father or mother of a family? Then accept this precious key to open the Gates of Heaven for yourself; and leave it as an heirloom to your children; they will thank you for it for all eternity.

Are you a teacher? Teach your charges the frequent use of this mystical key. Some day they will appreciate it.

Whatever you are, learn to use this golden key, and, should any of the thousand disasters so frequent nowadays overtake you, you have at hand the means of saving your soul.

Are you a good Catholic? Use this key frequently, for it led the saints to the apex of sanctity.

Are you a sinner? This key is made specially for you, for it shows you how to reopen the gates that you have closed by sin. I will go even further. Are you a heretic, an infidel in good faith, or one who, knowing his error, is now at death’s door, and has no time to embrace the True Faith or reconcile himself with God? Fortunate are you if this golden key should have come into your hands. It can save you from Hell and open Heaven for you. Fly, fly then, little book, like a butterfly with golden wings, enter into the houses of the rich and of the poor; go into the schools and workshops; fly over mountains and plains, over land and sea; find your way into the steamers and trains; penetrate the mines; ascend to the aeroplane in the clouds; where ever sin and death may be, there bring the light and consolation that are contained in your modest pages.

KEY TO HEAVEN

WHAT IS PERFECT CONTRITION?

FIRST of all, what is contrition? Later on we will see about that word “perfect.” Contrition is a grief of the soul, a detestation of sin committed. It must be accompanied by a firm resolution of amending one’s life and of sinning no more.

THE SOUL’S SORROW

Now, for real contrition, three conditions are necessary-it must he internal, universal, and supernatural. (a) It must be internal or inward. It must come from the depths of the heart, and does not consist of acts pronounced by the lips without reflection or thought. It is not necessary to manifest our sorrow by sighs and tears. These may be signs of contrition, but they are not essential or necessary parts of it. Contrition rests in the soul and in the firm resolution of leaving our sin and returning to God.

(b) Our contrition must be universal -i.e., it must be extended to all the sins, at least to all the mortal sins, that we have committed.

(c) Lastly, it must be supernatural, which means that it must be founded on some motive of faith-e.g., on Hell, on Purgatory, on Heaven, on God, or on some similar motive. Our contrition would be natural, and thereby useless, if it were founded on some purely natural motive of interest or reason-as, for example, if we were sorry because our sins brought us some illness or dishonour or pecuniary loss. But if our sorrow is founded on some truth of our Faith-for example, the loss of Heaven or the fear of Hell-it is supernatural and meritorious.

Now, supernatural contrition may be either imperfect or perfect; and here we return to Perfect Contrition. Contrition is imperfect when we are sorry through fear of God. It is perfect when we are sorry through love of Him. In the first case we are sorry for having offended God because we fear His just anger and punishment; in the second case, we are sorry because sin offends God, Who is so infinitely good and lovable.

Perfect Contrition springs from the perfect love of God, and our love for God is perfect when we love Him because He is infinitely perfect, infinitely beautiful, infinitely good in Himself, or because, by His innumerable gifts to us, He has shown His love for us. On the other hand, our love for God is imperfect when we love Him because we hope for some benefit from Him. But should this something be Himself in so much as He is our Supreme Good, then this would be perfect love.

From this you will clearly see that when our love is imperfect we think principally of ourselves, of the benefits we have received; whereas, if it is perfect, we think principally of God-of the goodness of Him Who enriches us with His benefits. When our love is imperfect we love the gifts we have received; when it is perfect we love the Giver of these gifts, not so much for the gifts He gives as for the love and goodness that these gifts manifest in Him.

Sorrow Comes from Love

Now, sorrow or contrition springs from love, and so it follows that our contrition will be perfect when we repent of our sins through the perfect love of God-i.e., when we repent, because by sinning we offend God, Who is infinitely good and perfect and beautiful in Himself, and Who loves us so much. Our contrition will be imperfect if we repent through fear of God, because by sinning we have lost Heaven or merited the pains of Purgatory or Hell. When our sorrow is imperfect we think above all about ourselves, and of the punishment that our sins will bring on us in the next life in much the same way as a child is sorry for some fault because it fears a thrashing. With perfect contrition we think principally about God, about His greatness, His goodness, His beauty, His Love, all of which attributes we offend in sinning, and for which sins the God-Man, our Adorable Saviour, suffered so much. It is like a child repenting of a fault because it has grieved its parents, who are so good and loving, and have done so much for it. One other little example will help to explain all this much better. After St. Peter denied his Divine Master he thought of his sin, and, “going out, wept bitterly.” Why did he weep? Perhaps for the shame he would feel in front of the other Apostles? If this was the reason, then his sorrow was purely natural and without merit for Heaven. Perhaps he feared being deprived of his dignity as an Apostle and Prince of the Apostles, or perhaps he feared losing Heaven. These certainly would be worthy motives, but still his sorrow would be imperfect. No, No! Peter wept and repented because he had offended his beloved Master, Who was so good, so holy, so worthy of his love; he wept because he had repaid that love with the blackest ingratitude, and, as a consequence, his contrition was perfect, his sin was forgiven. With this golden key he had again reopened the doors of Heaven, which he had closed a moment before by his triple denial. And, dear reader, have you not as much reason to detest your own sins ? Certainly. The benefits you have received are more numerous than the hairs on your head, and for each of these gifts you should exclaim with St. John, “Let us love God Who has first loved us.”

THE LOVE OF GOD

And how has God loved us? “I have loved you,” He says, “with an eternal love. I have had pity on you and drawn you to Myself.” (Jet. xxxi., 3.) So He has loved us with an eternal love. Right from eternity, before you were born-aye, even before this world was made or the angels themselves were created. He turned towards you one of those loving looks that pierce the very heart; for you He created the heavens and the earth, for you He prepared a body and a soul with all the tenderness of a mother preparing for the coming of her child. It is God Who gave you life and keeps you in life; it is He Who from day to day gives you all those natural goods that you enjoy. Such a thought should be sufficient to induce the very pagans to the perfect love of God. But how much more reason have not you, a Christian, a Catholic, to love Him with a perfect love- you who experience a signal proof of His goodness and love, for “He has pity on you”? You, in consequence of the fall of our First Parents, were condemned with the rest of mankind, but your Heavenly Father sent His only Son to be your Saviour and to redeem you with His Precious Blood. During His Agony in the Garden He thought of you. He thought of you as His Blood flowed from the wounds caused by the cruel scourges and crown of thorns. It was of you He thought as He laboured under the heavy Cross up the hill of Calvary. It was of you He thought and for you He suffered as He expired in shame and agony on the Cross. Yes, He thought of you with as tender a love as if you were the only person in the world, so that youcan truly say with St. Paul, “He loved me and gave Himself up to death for me.” What conclusion can you draw from all this? This, and this only-”Let us love God who has first loved us.”

Besides, God drew you to Himself by Baptism, the first and most important grace in this life, and by the Church into whose bosom you were then admitted. How many there are who find the True Church only after trials and sacrifices of every kind! How many, again, who never know it! But through the love and mercy of Almighty God you were endowed with the gift of the True Faith in your cradle. He continues to draw you to Himself by means of the Sacraments and of innumerable other graces, both internal and external. You are, as it were, submerged in an ocean-in the ocean of divine love and mercy. Not satisfied with all these proofs of His love, He wishes to crown all these favours by placing you in Heaven, near to Himself, where you will be eternally happy. What return can you make for all this love? Nothing but love can repay love, and so do not all these proofs of His infinite love force us to love Him and to exclaim with St. Paul, “Caritas Christi urget nos”? The love of Christ constrains us to love Him in return.

Now, let us examine a little. How have you corresponded to the love of a God so loving and so lovable? Undoubtedly, with ingratitude and sin. But do you not now repent of such ingratitude? Ah! I have no doubt but that at this moment your heart burns with a desire of repairing such ingratitude by means of a whole-hearted love. If such is the case, then at this very moment you have Perfect Contrition-that contrition, viz., that is founded on the love of God and is called Perfect Contrition, or Contrition of Love.

But this contrition may be of a still higher degree and consist in loving God simply because He is infinitely perfect, infinitely glorious, and worthy of being loved above every other thing, independent of His mercies towards us. Let us make a comparison. Astronomers tell us that in the firmament there are stars as large and as brilliant as the sun, but so far away that they are invisible to the naked eye. Now, though these stars give us neither light nor warmth, are they not as worthy of our admiration as the sun itself ? And suppose, now, that man had never experienced any benefits from that eternal Star-the Love of God; suppose that Almighty God had not created the earth or any living creature; He would not on this account be any less wise, less grand, less beautiful, less glorious, less worthy of love, because in Himself and through Himself He is the Supreme Good. This is what we mean when we recite the words,”I detest my sins above every other evil because they displease Thee, my God, Who for Thine infinite goodness art so deserving of all my love.” Reflect for a moment on the love of God-above all, think of the manifestation of this love in the sufferings of Our Divine Saviour. By this means you will easily understand it, and, like a fiery dart, it will pierce and inflame your heart. Behold the practical way of exciting yourself to Perfect Contrition.

It is related in the life of the Curé d”Ars that on one occasion a lady, a perfect stranger to him, asked him to pray for her husband, a careless Catholic, who had just died suddenly and without receiving the Sacraments. “He was so careless, Father,” she said, weeping; “he did not go to his duties, and whatever will become of him?” “Madam,” replied the saintly priest, “do you not remember the bouquet of flowers be picked every Saturday to decorate Our Lady’s altar? In return Our Blessed Lady obtained for him the grace to make an act of Perfect Contrition before dying, and he is saved.” The Curé had never before seen that lady, nor did he know her husband, but it was a fact that every Saturday he picked that bunch of flowers. Our Lady, in return for that very small token of love he showed her, placed in his hands at that supreme moment the Golden Key of Paradise.

II. HOW TO OBTAIN PERFECT CONTRITION

First of all, we must bear in mind that Perfect Contrition is a grace-a great grace- from God. We should therefore constantly pray for it. Ask for it, not only when you wish to make an Act of Contrition, but often during the day. It should be the object of your most ardent desires. Repeat often, “My God! give me perfect sorrow for my sins.” And if you sincerely mean what you say, Our Lord will hear your prayer.

BEFORE THE CRUCIFIX

Besides this, here is an easy way of making an Act of Contrition. Kneel down before a crucifix in a church or in your room, or, if you cannot do this, imagine yourself to be in the presence of Jesus Christ, and, while looking at His wounds, think for a few moments, and then repeat these or similar words, “Who is This nailed to a Cross? It is Jesus-my God and Saviour. And see how He suffers! His Body covered with wounds and blood; His Soul submerged in anguish and humiliations. Why does He suffer? For the sins of mankind, and so for mine also. In the abyss of His torments He is thinking of me. He is suffering for me. He is making reparation for my sins.” Remain there at the foot of the Cross while the Blood of your Saviour falls drop by drop on your soul. Ask yourself how you have corresponded with these proofs of love. Call to mind your past sins, and, forgetting for a moment both Heaven and Hell, repent because your sins have reduced your Saviour to so pitiable a state. Promise Him that you will not crucify Him again, and then slowly and fervently repeat the Act of Contrition. Better still, repeat those wards of sorrow that will spontaneously rise up in your heart, now softened by grace and filled with a holy bitterness.

THREE VISITS

It will not be out of place to call to mind here what St. Charles Borromeo taught his penitents when they went to Confession. “Do you wish,” he used to say, “to know an easy way of exciting yourselves to true sorrow for your sins? Make three little visits-the first above, the second below, the third in the middle. Your visit up above will show you Paradise, which you have renounced for some empty pleasure, for some sinful thought, or word or act. The displeasure that will arise in your heart at the thought of this loss will be good attrition, or imperfect contrition, and in Confession will suffice to wash away your sins.

“Your visit below will show you that frightful place in which you would be now if God had exercised His justice- that place where you would for ever suffer the torment of fire, far from your true home, which is Heaven. The sorrow arising from this consideration is also excellent, and sufficient in Confession.

“Your third visit will show you Christ crucified and dying for you on Calvary amid pains and insults of every description. The knowledge that the Crucified One is Infinite Goodness Itself, your greatest Benefactor, Whom, instead of loving, you have insulted and crucified, will awaken in your heart sentiments of love and sorrow that will wipe away your sins even before you enter the confessional.”

Dear reader, remember these three visits of St. Charles, not only when you go to Confession, but each time you wish to excite yourself to Perfect Contrition.

III. IS IT DIFFICULT TO MAKE AN ACT OF PERFECT CONTRITION? No doubt, it is more difficult to make an act of Perfect Contrition than an Imperfect one, which suffices when we go to Confession. But still, there is no one who, if he sincerely wishes it, cannot, with the grace of God, make an act of Perfect Contrition. Sorrow is in the will, not in the senses or feelings. All that is needed is that we repent because we love God above everything else; that is all. True it is that Perfect Contrition has its degrees, but it is none the less perfect because it does not reach the intensity and sublimity of the sorrow of St. Peter, of St. Mary Magdalene, or of St. Aloysius. Such a degree is very desirable, but is by no means necessary. A lesser degree, but, provided it proceeds from the love of God, and not through fear of His punishments, is quite sufficient. And it is very consoling to remember that for the 4000 years before the coming of Christ the only means sinners had of obtaining pardon was this same Perfect Contrition. There was no Sacrament of Penance in those days. Even today for thousands-aye, for millions-of pagans, of non-Catholics, and of Catholics, too, who have no time to call a priest to their bedside, the only means of pardon and salvation is an act of Perfect Contrition.

Now, if it is true that God does not wish the death of a sinner, it follows that He does not wish to impose on His creatures a contrition or sorrow beyond their powers, but one that is within the reach of everyone. And so, if millions of poor creatures who, through no fault of their own, live and die outside the True Fold, if these can obtain the grace of Perfect Contrition, do you imagine, dear reader, that it will be difficult for you-you who enjoy the happiness of being a Christian and a Catholic, and so are capable of receiving much greater graces than they-you who are far better instructed in things divine than the poor infidels are?

But I dare to go even further. Often, very often, without even thinking of it, you have Perfect Contrition for your sins. For example, when you hear Mass devoutly or make the Stations of the Cross properly; when you reflect before your crucifix or an image of the Sacred Heart. What is more, every time you say the “Our Father,” in the first three petitions you make three acts of perfect charity, each of which is sufficient to cancel every sin from your soul.

Very often, a few words suffice to express the most ardent love and the most profound sorrow -for instance, the little ejaculations, “My Jesus, mercy,” “My God and my All,” “My God, I love Thee above all things,” “My God, have mercy on me, a poor sinner.” Aided by the grace of God (and God has promised to give to all who ask), it is by no means difficult to make an Act of Contrition. Take the case of David, who for one curious look fell into the sin of adultery, and then of murder. Having committed these sins, he lived on quite unconcerned about the state of his soul till the prophet Nathan came to reprove him. And this reproach induced David to make an act of Perfect Contrition in a few words, “Pec- cavi Domino” (“I have sinned against the Lord”). So efficacious was his contrition that the prophet, inspired by God, exclaimed, “The Lord has forgiven you.”

Take, again, the case of Mary Magdalen—a public sinner. She did not even say one word, but simply wept at the Feet of Jesus. Jesus saw the sorrow in her heart, and, turning to her, said: “Woman! because thou hast loved much thy sins are forgiven thee.” See, then, how little is needed-only to love God above everything. And love demands neither time nor trouble; it suffices to think of Jesus crucified, for it is impossible then not to love Him, and to be sorry for the sins by which we have crucified Him.

Remember the good thief -a robber condemned to death-and yet for those few words spoken from his heart, “Lord, remember me when Thou shalt come into Thy Kingdom,” he was immediately promised Heaven by Christ Himself: “Today, thou shalt be with Me in Paradise.”

Lastly, look at St. Peter, who denied his Master three times. Jesus looked at him; Peter said not a single word, but, “going out, wept bitterly.” He was forgiven; he was chosen by Christ to be His first successor on earth-the Prince of the Apostles- and to-day is one of the most glorious saints in Heaven.

Dear readers, should we ever have the misfortune to offend God, let us give a look at the tabernacle where Jesus is palpitating with love for us, or let us think of Calvary. Our hearts will be touched. We will repent. We shall be forgiven and saved.

IV. THE EFFECTS OF PERFECT CONTRITION

FORGIVENESS EVEN BEFORE CONFESSION

Suppose the person before he makes an act of Perfect Contrition is in the state of mortal sin. Immediately, before even he goes to Confession-so long as he has the intention of going when opportunity offers- all his sins are forgiven. Not only is the eternal punishment of Hell remitted, but all his merits, which he had lost by sinning, are again restored to him. And if the person making this Act of Contrition is in the state of grace, his soul is strengthened against future temptations, his venial sins are forgiven, his purgatory is lessened, and the love of God increases in his soul. Behold the wonderful effects of the mercy of God produced in the soul of the Christian, and even in that of the pagan in good faith, by an act of Perfect Contrition.

CONTRITION DOES NOT DISPENSE WITH CONFESSION

Perhaps in reading this you will be surprised and inclined to say, “I can well understand that at the moment of death we should ask for the grace of Perfect Contrition, and that at that supreme moment it produces these wonderful effects, but I can scarcely credit that it has this power at all times, and when we are well and strong.” And yet all this is perfectly true; it is as solid as the Rock on which the Church is built. In short, it is as certain as the Word of God. In the Council of Trent, the Church, under the assistance of the Holy Ghost, declared “that Perfect Contrition-i.e., that which proceeds from the love of God-justifies man and reconciles him with God even before the reception of the Sacrament of Penance.” Of course, it is understood that such a person, if a Catholic, has at least the implicit intention of going to Confession. Now, the Council of Trent says nothing about the moment of death-it makes no distinction of time or circumstances, and so always and at any moment during life this golden key opens the gates of Paradise. This declaration of Holy Church is simply the explanation of those words of Our Divine Saviour, “If anyone loves Me” (and no one can love Him without being sorry for having offended Him)-”if anyone loves Me, My Father will love Him, and We will come and dwell in him.” Now, since God cannot dwell in a soul stained with mortal sin, it follows that Perfect Contrition, or the Contrition of Charity, as it is called, banishes sin from the soul.

Such has always been the teaching of the Church, and when a heretic denied it he was condemned by Rome. If, as we have already seen, Perfect Contrition produced these wonderful effects in the Old Law- the Law of Fear and Justice- with what greater reason should it not do so in the New Law-the Law of Mercy and Love?

But, seeing how efficacious Perfect Contrition is, seeing how it cleanses the soul even before Confession, you may be inclined to say, “Why, then, go to Confession at all? Was not Confession instituted by Jesus Christ for the remission of sins? And if Perfect Contrition remits sin even before Confession, where is the necessity of Confession?” This objection or difficulty is answered in the Catechism: “If we fall into sin we should make an Act of Contrition and go to Confession as soon as we can.” And the reason is because, though Perfect Contrition produces the same effects as Confession, it does not do so independently of Confession. Confession is the ordinary means instituted by Christ for the forgiveness of sin, and Perfect Contrition supposes the intention of confessing those sins already for given by this Act of Contrition. Without this intention an Act of Contrition would not remit a single mortal sin. Should a person afterwards neglect to go to Confession, at least within the year, he would commit a mortal sin by wilfully disobeying one of the Commandments of the Church. So, bear in mind that in order to make a good Act of Contrition we must have the intention of going to Confession. But when ? Must one go at the first opportunity ? Strictly speaking, no; since we are obliged to go but once a year, except in special circumstances-as, for instance, when we wish to receive Holy Communion. However, all theologians vividly exhort us to go as soon as possible, and for several reasons. We are more certain then that our sins are forgiven, for our contrition may not have been perfect. We thus enjoy greater peace of conscience, and we enrich our souls with the precious graces annexed to the Sacrament of Penance. When, for instance, you meet with an accident and injure, say, your hand or foot, what do you do ? You immediately apply such home remedies as you know of, and then call the doctor at the first opportunity, for his prescriptions, you know, are authentic. And you should do the same for an injury to your soul-immediately say an Act of Contrition, which is the home remedy, and then, as soon as possible, have recourse to your spiritual doctor, who is your Confessor.

Again, someone migh t be inclined to say, “Since it is so easy to obtain pardon by means of an Act of Perfect Contrition, I need not worry any more. I can sin without scruple, and then simply make an Act of Contrition, and all will be well.” Dear reader, anyone who would reason in this way would not have the shadow of sorrow. How could he say he loved God above everything when he intends to offend Him without scruple ? When one is really sorry for having done something he is resolved never to do it again. It may happen, and often does happen, that after one has sincerely repented of a sin, he is tempted again, and again falls into the same sin. This is quite a different thing. His contrition was good, because at the moment his resolution was sincere; but later, under a fresh temptation, he unfortunately fell again. All he can do is to repent once more, and resolve more firmly than ever to be more vigilant in the future.

Perfect Contrition is a great help to all those who sincerely wish to keep in the state of grace -to all those who, in spite of good intentions, through frailty, fall from time to time into mortal sin. But should anyone wish to abuse it as a means of sinning more freely, for him, instead of being a divine remedy, it would turn into an infernal poison.

St. Augustine is the model of Perfect Contrition. Having spent a sinful youth and early manhood, he repented, and in his Confessionssays: “Too late, oh Eternal Goodness! have I learned to know You, but for the future I will love You, I will never again offend You.” See how he coupled with his sorrow the resolution of sinning no more.

V. WHY IS PERFECT CONTRITION SO IMPORTANT, AND, AT TIMES, EVEN NECESSARY? IT IS IMPORTANT DURING LIFE, AND ESPECIALLY AT THE MOMENT OF DEATH, FOR THE FOLLOWING REASONS:—FRIENDS OF GOD

What greater happiness can we wish for in this life than to be in the state of sanctifying grace ? It is this which beautifies the soul, which makes it a child of God and an heir to Heaven. It converts every good work and every suffering patiently borne into acts of merit. It is, as it were, a magic wand, converting everything into heavenly gold. On the other hand, what more unfortunate being is there than a person in mortal sin ? All his past merits are lost, his soul is in danger of hell, all his good works, all his sufferings, even his prayers, are without the least merit for Eternity. How important, then, to be in the state of grace And if a person does fall from this state, how can he again acquire it? There are two means- Confession and Perfect Contrition. Confession is the ordinary means, but as it is sometimes very difficult, and even impossible, to go to Confession, Almighty God, in His Goodness, has given us an extraordinary means, which is Perfect Contrition.

Suppose, which God forbid, that someday you have the misfortune of committing a mortal sin. After the distractions of the day, when you are at home in the quiet of the evening, your conscience will begin to trouble you, you will begin to feel ill at ease, and perhaps frightened, and with very good reason, too. What are you to do? God places in your hands the golden key that will reopen for you the Gates of Heaven that you closed during the day. Make an Act of Contrition from the motive of the love of God; resolve to sin no more, and to go to Confession when you can; then go peacefully to bed. You are at peace with God, and if you die during the night you will be saved.

On the contrary, how pitiable is the state of the man who is ignorant of Perfect Contrition! He goes to bed at night and rises in the morning an enemy of God; he continues in this fearful state for days and weeks, perhaps for months and years. This profound darkness into which his soul is plunged is unbroken except for a few days after each Confession; he then sins again, and remains in this state till his next Confession. Unhappy man! To live practically all his life in mortal sin, an enemy of God, without merits for Heaven, and in constant danger of being lost eternally

BEFORE HOLY COMMUNION

Of course, you would not think of going to Holy Communion after having committed a mortal sin and before going to Confession. St. Paul insists: “Let a man prove himself first.” Let him go to Confession, and then partake of the Eucharistic Bread. Perfect Contrition is an efficacious, but at the same time an extraordinary, means of obtaining pardon-a means to be used when we cannot conveniently go to Confession, and we always have an opportunity of going before Communion. Still, we would do well to make an Act of Contrition immediately before Communion, to purify our souls more and more, and to receive more abundant fruits from this most holy Sacrament.

Again, the practice of making frequent Acts of Contrition is most advantageous for one who habitually lives in the state of grace. Apart from a special revelation from God, we cannot know for certain whether we are in His friendship or not; but every Act of Contrition lessens our anxiety on this point. Again, it often happens that we are in doubt as to whether we have given consent to a temptation or not. What are we to do? Examine our conscience? This is useless, for it will only bring back the temptation again, especially if against holy purity; and, moreover, we will never decide whether we have consented or not. No; make an Act of Perfect Contrition, as St. Francis de Sales was accustomed to do, and worry no more. And even if it were revealed to us that we are in the state of grace, Perfect Contrition would still be most advisable. Every act increases sanctifying grace in our souls, one degree of which is worth more than all the riches of this world. Each act cancels any venial sins that stain our souls, which, in consequence, increase in fervour and sanctity. Each act of perfect love remits some of our purgatory. Whatdid Our Divine Saviour say to Mary Magdalen? “Because thou hast loved much, much is forgiven thee.” If, in order to lessen our purgatory, we gain Indulgences, do good works, give alms, then the perfect love of God, which is the queen of virtues, merits the very first place among all the virtuous acts we perform.

Finally, every Act of Contrition strengthens our souls, and so increases our confidence of obtaining that greatest of all graces-the grace of final perseverance. What accumulation of graces does not this practice of frequent acts of Perfect Contrition obtain for us

AT THE MOMENT OF DEATH

But, if this practice is so important during life, it reaches the height of its importance at the moment of death, especially when death comes too suddenly to call the priest. Take the case when, some years ago, a fire broke out in a large tenement house and many were cut off from escape by the flames. Among these was a boy of twelve years, who, falling on his knees, loudly recited an Act of Contrition, and invited all to join with him. How many, perhaps, of those unfortunate victims owe their eternal salvation to that boy? Now, dangers surround us every day. You or I, which God forbid, may one day be the victim of an accident-a kicking or bolting horse, a motor-car out of control, a slip on a stairs, a fall off a tram or train, a falling tree-there are a thousand and one ways by which death may come suddenly. A stroke may come when we are at our work or at our meals-suddenly, when least expected. Someone may run for a priest, but he may not arrive in time. What are you to do ? Immediately make an act of Perfect Contrition. Don’t wait to see if the priest will arrive in time, but immediately repent for having offended and crucified so good a God. You will be saved. Perfect Contrition will be for you the Golden Key of Paradise.

But do not delude yourself with the thought that you will put off your repentance till the moment of death, and that then you will make an act of Perfect Contrition. Perfect Contrition is a grace given only to those of good will, and if anyone were to abandon himself to a life of sin with the hope of a death-bed repentance, he would find himself face to face with a Judge Who will say, “You will seek Me, but you will die in your sins.”

Will I have sufficient time in case of a sudden death to make an Act of Contrition? With the grace of God, yes. It requires very little time, especially if during life you have made a practice of exciting yourself frequently; it is not necessary to say even one word. Besides, when death is imminent, instants seem like hours. The mind is very active, and, added to this, Almighty God will be most lavish with His graces at that supreme moment.

What irreparable evils are caused through ignorance at the time of an accident! People rush from every side to render assistance. Some begin to cry; everyone loses his head; one rushes for a doctor, perhaps another for a priest; someone calls for water and begins to apply first-aid remedies-and all the time the unfortunate victim is dying. No one has compassion on his soul-no one suggests an Act of Contrition. Should you ever be present at an accident, run quickly but calmly to the victim, give him a crucifix to kiss if you have one, and then slowly and clearly ask him to repeat with his heart what you are about to say. Then slowly and distinctly repeat an Act of Contrition, even though the dying man may not seem to hear or understand you. A soul that you may save in this way will be your crown in Heaven.

Do you know, dear reader, who will most naturally make an Act of Contrition when necessity arises ? He, of course, who was most accustomed to make one every day, in every danger, after every sin, only such a one, when the occasion arises, will know how to manage quickly and swiftly the Golden Key of Paradise.

VI. WHEN SHOULD WE MAKE AN ACT OF CONTRITION?

EVERY NIGHT

All you who have followed me thus far, I beg of you, for the love of God and of your immortal souls, to make this act every night before retiring. This I ask, not because you are obliged in conscience to do so, but because I know it is for your good. Do not tell me that daily examination of conscience and Perfect Contrition are good only for priest and religious; don’t make the excuse that you have not the time, or are too tired in the evenings. For how long does it take to make an Act of Contrition? Half an hour? A quarter of an hour? No; a few minutes are quite sufficient. I suppose you say a few prayers before going to bed. Very well! Having finished these prayers, think for a moment or two as to what sins you have committed during the day-you will hardly need to think if you have fallen grievously, for such a sin will rise naturally to your remembrance-then slowly and fervently recite an Act of Contrition, preferably before a crucifix or picture of Our Lady. And then go to bed in peace, for you are at peace with God. Begin this very evening, and never omit this most excellent practice. Should you ever have the misfortune of committing a mortal sin, do not remain in this awful state for an instant-on the spot, or at least before going to bed, say an Act of Contrition, and then go to Confession when you can.

One day, dear reader, sooner or later, the hour of your death will come, and if, which God forbid, it comes suddenly, you now know the key with which to open Heaven. If you have been faithful in making frequent Acts of Contrition during life, I assure you that you will have both the time and the grace to make one at that supreme moment, and thus save your soul. And if you are given sufficient time to prepare for death, let your last prayer be an act of love towards God, your Creator, your Redeemer, and your Saviour-an act of sincere and perfect contrition for all the sins of your whole life. Then throw yourself with childlike confidence into the arms of Divine Mercy, for God will be for you a merciful and compassionate Judge.

And now I leave you. Read and re-read this little book. Get others to read it, and put into practice its precious lessons. Often repeat your Act of Contrition, a simple means, as you have seen, of obtaining pardon, the supreme and only means in case of necessity, a source of grace both during life and particularly at the hour of death-in short, “THE GOLDEN KEY OF PARADISE.”

VARIOUS ACTS OF CONTRITION

1. O my God, I am sorry that I have sinned against Thee, for Thou art so good; I will never sin again. O pardon me and help me with Thy grace.

2. O my God, I am heartily sorry for having offended Thee, and I detest my sins above every other evil; because they displease Thee, my God, Who, for Thy infinite goodness, art so deserving of all my love; and I firmly resolve, by Thy holy grace, never more to offend Thee, and to amend my life.

3. O my God, from the bottom of my heart I am sorry for all my sins, because by them I deserve Thy just punishment in this life and in the next; because I have been ungrateful to Thee, my greatest Benefactor, and, above all, because I have offended Thee, the Most Perfect and the Most Amiable Good, my Saviour, Who hast died on the Cross for my sins, I am firmly resolved to amend my life, never more to offend Thee, and to avoid the occasions of sin.

4. O my God, I am heartily sorry for having offended Thee, because Thou art so very good, and I firmly purpose by the help of Thy grace not to offend Thee again.

Nihil Obstat

EDWARD FENNESSY, Diocesan Censor Imprimatur

@DANIEL MANNIX,

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis 23rd September, 1959

********

Conversation With God

BY ROBERT NASH, S. J

INDEX

1. A COMMON LANGUAGE

The first essential for conversation is a common language. If you are travelling with a stranger in a train he may have many interesting things to say, and you, no doubt, would like to talk too, or perhaps, in quite exceptional circumstances you would be willing even to listen. But you are both up against a stone wall. He speaks German only, and you English only. After a few attempts & communicate by smiles and signs, you give up the effort, which, plainly, is useless, and you bury yourself once more in the pages of your book.

Prayer is conversation with God. It is the meeting place between God and the soul. To Him the soul addresses itself: “Speak, Lord, for Thy servant heareth.” Perhaps we too often want to monopolize the conversation. We are so anxiouslyconcerned to “get in” a self-imposed programme of prayers that there may be a danger lest we speak with our lips only, and our hearts remain far from God. There can be a subtle pride in the feeling of satisfaction that we have said five rosaries and made the Stations three times, and added on the Thirty Days” Prayer and a few novenas for good measure.

LISTEN TOO

God forbid we should breathe a syllable against such excellent ways of prayer! Our point is that there may be a mistake here. With too many vocal prayers, especially if they tend to develop into parrot prayers, we can become preoccupied with ourselves, to the exclusion of God. God is, of course, anxious to speak, but we will not allow Him! “Mental” prayer is remedy for this tendency to monopolize the conversation.

At the same time our contribution to the conversation is of great importance. Hence the soul adds: “I will speak to my Lord whereas I am but dust and ashes.” Prayer is an audience with God, in which, with infinite condescension He deigns to address the soul, and the soul is emboldened by so much divine courtesy to speak to Him.

FACE TO FACE

This double aspect of prayer is excellently illustrated in the story of Moses. By God’s command he climbed up Mount Sinai. As he walked a cloud began to envelop him round about. After a while he lifted his eyes to see where next to place his foot, and he stood, transfixed and overawed. A ray, of light had penetrated through the cloud and God’s servant was aware that it came from His Face. He fell on his knees, joined his hands, bowed his head low, and remained there on the mountain for full forty days and forty nights. He was admitted to a marvellous intimacy with God in this conversation. “The Lord spoke to Moses, face to face, as a man is wont to speak to his friend.”

During that time Moses “neither ate bread nor drank water.” He was oblivious of all save the one overwhelming fact that he was face to face with God. This tremendous truth absorbed him. The trivialities of the small world ~down at the foot of the mountain seemed so utterly: insignificant now, by comparison. When he came back to his people the Israelites his face was “horned,” luminous with the reflection of the divine light which had shone upon it during that long period. He had to wear a veil else no one could endure the brilliance.

Fifteen minutes” mental prayer a day is an invitation to you, to enter with Moses into the cloud. There you too must kneel in God’s Presence. There He will speak to you. There you have the ineffable privilege of addressing Him as one friend to another.

CLIMB THE MOUNTAIN

All of us probably realize that the mountain is a stiff climb and the temperature of the high altitudes bleak and uninviting. The temptation is often strong to believe we are getting nowhere with our mental prayer. The cloud folds itself around us sure enough, but the ray of light fails to appear. We are stumbling in a land of fog and rain and blinding snow. Better have sense and return to the comfort of the snug valley and leave this wild chase after mental prayer.

We shall talk about this temptation later. For the moment we must put down a full-stop. This only we will add—that love is the common language between God and the soul. It can be expressed in English or French or Chinese, but fundamentally it remains the same in every translation. In this conversation, God multiplies assurances and proofs of the love He bears the soul. And the poor soul tries to stammer out its acts of love, painfully conscious of their shortcomings.

It is love which beckons to the soul and encourages it to undertake the difficult ascent. It is love which strengthens the wearying footsteps and sustains the faltering heart. It is love that holds the soul up here where all seems so desolate, almost as desolate as Calvary, whither He climbed too, praying all the while.

2. A COMMON INTEREST

Conversation will soon be very boring if you discover that your companion can speak only of sport and you of the forthcoming exam. So much depends for you and for others on the results that you can think of little else. But he shows not even the mildest interest and wants to tell you all about the big match played last week or coming off next Saturday.

You have nothing much in common and you decide, wisely enough, to close down.

But what an enormous difference if you find a point of contact. Suppose your companion has just returned from America. At once you prick up your ears. America- does be perhaps know So and So, who one time used to live in Fifth Avenue, New York. He does. They are very good friends, and So and So and his family were down at the boat to see him off. This is wonderful, for the man in question is your brother. This is almost too good to be true.

Conversation thus sparked off, catches on without difficulty. You have a thousand questions to ask. Time simply flies and when you reach your destination you look in amazement at the name on the station. You glance at your watch, incredulous. You part on the platform but you exchange addresses and you exact a solemn promise that he will call to your house before he goes back to America.

It was the subject of common interest which made all the difference between a dull forced effort to keep the talk going and the eager spontaneous flow of talk which you found absorbing. Wouldn’t it be rather wonderful if something like this were to happen in our mental prayer? This is a conversation with Cod, and if He and we were deeply interested in the same things, our complaints about dryness and futility ought to die a natural death. If we can find out what He is interested in, and if a like interest be awakened in ourselves, then our mental prayer should no longer be stilted and irksome. It should develop into a more easy, informal relationship, full of reverence indeed but at the same time approaching close to “holy familiarity with God.”

Now what is God interested in most of all? Suppose you take your stand this evening at a bus queue in any Street of the city. Look around you. On every side you see a seething mass of humanity. A policeman on point duty; the different buses pulling up and disgorging passengers-an old woman who must climb out slowly and delays those impatient behind her, a pair of lovers who must, perforce, unjoin hands for a few seconds-then the bus takes on another group from your queue and passes. A little boy in ragged clothes wants to sell you an evening paper. The shops are still open and prospective buyers stare in at the windows or loiter in the entrances.

GAZE INTO SOUL

Now Jesus Christ watches those crowds as you do. He is, indeed, deeply concerned about their material affairs-their state of health, the job they are after, the sickness in the family, what you will. But, far and above all these, the supreme interest in His mind is the soul of each of those thousands of persons. For in each that is what He discerns. His gaze penetrates below the ragged coat of the newsboy and sees his immortal soul. He reads the secrets of hearts like the pages of an open book. If in a soul He sees mortal sin, the sight is revolting and causes Him acute agony. If he sees a soul radiant with the light of divine grace, living with divine life; the sight fills Him with joy.

But the one point to note is that the soul, its state, its presence, its future destiny, is the interest that absorbs Him. So true is this that if we were to ask Him to summarize all His teaching, He would probably repeat His momentous question: “What doth it profit a man if he gain the whole world and suffer the loss of his soul? Or what shall a man give in exchange for his soul?”

If we can talk about the souls of men, then, to Jesus in our prayer; if when we are invited to a conversation with Him, we have developed an interest in the salvation and sanctification of souls, we shall assuredly have found a subject of common interest and the conversation cannot but flow freely. Other subjects need not be excluded, but this one must always dominate. Indeed all others are worth discussing and considering, only in so far as they affect the welfare of the souls of man.

3. OVER THE WALL

A child aged three was toddling along the road, clingin g firmly to father’s right hand. A high wall skirted the pathway—and they heard the strains of a band playing on the other side. But the child was anxious to see as well as hear, and so Daddy took him in his strong arms and lifted him up high. From this point of vantage he can enjoy a perfect view and he proceeds to dilate on the wonders he sees, for the benefit of anyone who is willing to listen.

Something like this happens, at least from time to time, in the soul’s conversation with God in prayer. A glim pse is granted of, the relative importance of the temporal and the eternal. The heavenly Father lifts the soul and allows it to see what things Cod has prepared for those who love Him. There is a revelation, a new heaven and a new earth. On the other side of the wall is eternity. From even this fleeting glimpse the soul recognizes, with a clarity quite impossible to express, that nothing is worthy of consideration except getting there.

AN EARNEST DESIRE

The child gave signs to the father that it was anxious to be lifted up and see over the wall. The soul, too, must prove to God and to itself that it is in earnest in desiring to develop an interest in souls. This may well mean that it suppress or even sacrifice wholly, alien interests.

Apart from sin, the soul can cling to a thousand things which dim its powers of spiritual vision. The world is all around us, and nothing is easier than to allow it to push its wares and press them upon us with such persistence, that they end by assuming in our eyes an importance which they do not possess in actual fact.

I could not help overhearing a conversation in a bus lately. Two girls were talking and for some fifteen minutes their discussion turned on films, dances, dress, and holidays. Admittedly all four topics have their importance, but one got the impression that the girls thought of almost nothing else. If the impression was correct you can safely conclude that their prayer was superficial. They had no desire to see over the wall for the simple reason that they did not even suspect what was there. They were preoccupied with trifles, and, if you had seen the other side, you could feel nothing for them but compassion for their loss. It was calamitous to be satisfied with so little, or fail to realize that there was so much more.

TRESPASSERS PROSECUTED

What all this resolves itself into is that there is no chance of growth in prayer without a spirit of self-sacrifice. There are many trespassers in the soul whichis God’s property and they must be ruthlessly prosecuted. The soul is God’s temple and like the Master, the soul must expel all intruders-the buyers and sellers who turn the house of God into a den of traffic.

Lent is an invitation to penance. What are we to give up and what are we to take up? The question may not be limited to the lenten season. The hard saying of Our Lord holds for the twelve months of every year: “Unless a man renounce everything that he possesses,he cannot be My disciple.” This renunciation demands that we lay the axe to the root by controlling our desires for anything in which God may not share fully in order to succeed, it will often be necessary to go without, even in those things which are lawful.

It is noteworthy that Our Lord, immediately after He had laid down this condition which human nature in us finds so hard, proceeded at once to tell us about the Good Shepherd and the Prodigal Son. Mental prayer is not meant to be a struggle all the time. There are delights too, and these God grants with a lavish hand, when they are for the soul’s benefit.

When once the soul has tasted them it realises that any sacrifice is a small price to pay for such inundation of joy. We need encouragement. People who give us a lop-sided view of the difficulties and trials of prayer are like a doctor displaying for his patient the knife to be used for the operation, and the knife only.

4. A PATTERN

The Gospel according to St. Mark lies open before me. Here is the 35th verse of his first chapter: “And r ising very early, going out, He (Our Lord) went into a desert place, and there He prayed.” Long ago God ordered Moses to build a tabernacle according to a pattern; here is God’s Son giving us a perfect pattern for our mental prayer.

Perhaps one of the most effective ways of making our prayer is simply to summon up before our mind’s eye some scene in the life of Christ. Then put yourself into that scene. Look and observe what is going on, who are there, what they are saying and doing, and speak to them just exactly as if you were actually present.

Let’s try it with this verse from St. Mark. The first detail to notice is the time chosen by Our Lord for prayer. It was early morning. If you read the preceding verses you will find that He had had a toilsome day yesterday. But no long sleep for Him next morning. He is up “very early” and at His prayer.

THE BEST TIME

Hence the importance of the precise period during, which you make your time of mental prayer. No hard and fast rule can be laid down; you must experiment and try to discover the time when you seem to do best. It may be in the stillness of night, or on your way home from work in the evening. It is noteworthy, at the same time, that the founders of the Religious Orders have consistently assigned the early morning as the time of prayer.

Our blessed Lord is just as particular about the place for His prayer. “Going out, He went into a desert place.” He did not, indeed, seek this solitude because it was in some way necessary for Him, as though He wanted to avoid distractions. In His case there could be no possible distraction because He always saw the Face of His Father in the beauty and glory of the Beatific Vision. He was as intimately united with His Father in the crowded streets as in the trackless deserts.

But we are very different. St. Teresa calls that restless imagination of ours “the fool of the house.” For us it is im—perative to leave nothing to chance where our prayer is concerned. Hence Our Lord seeks solitude for our instruction and example. We live such a noisy whirlpool “existence; the world about us seems to have developed a cult of noise. We must escape if we want to pray well. If escape is genuinely impossible, then a loving God will compensate in His own way. But normally we must choose our place of prayer with the care we employ in selecting a site for a new building.

A DESERT PLACE

That is why an enclosed retreat is beyond all praise. In your ordinary prayer, you may find some quiet church or convent chapel, or you may find tranquillity in your room at home.” Anyhow, look for the spot where you are free of noise and noisy people. “Going out, He went into a desert place.”

“There He prayed.” It is significant that “Simon and they that were with him,” missed Him. Perhaps they were not up so early! They knew where to look for Him and we are permitted to imagine them, standing and watching their Master as He still continues to kneel and they wait for Him to finish. With them we can form a picture of the praying Christ. We can observe the position He takes up; probably He knelt, but whatever the position was, we can be certain it indicated deep reverence.

Perhaps our failures in prayer might be attributed to the position we assume. If we know that by sitting down we shall soon be drowsy, we should not sit. “The kingdom of heaven suffers violence and the violent bears it away.”

Look again and this time note the obvious humility of the praying Christ. As man he prays on behalf of us sinners, and as our mediator with His Father and our Father. By his example He teaches you and me to imitate the humility of the publican who struck his breast andexclaimed: “God, be merciful to me, a sinner.”

Finally, as we watch, we may admire the perseverance of His prayer. His apostles have come to fetch Him; they warn Him “all seek Thee.” But, as again in Gethsemani, He prayed the longer.”

What a wealth there is of thought in that one verse of St. Mark, material for several conversations with God.

5. LIGHT AND SHADE

On Holy Thursday night our Lord was kneeling in prayer. Presently He falls flat on His face. A sweat breaks out through the pores of His body. It is not natural sweat merely. It is mixed with blood and it saturates His clothes and from them falls in drops to the ground.

PRAYING IN CHRIST

It ought not to be difficult, in our prayer, to come here in spirit and kneel down beside Him. From the many thoughts which might suggest themselves, let us select one or two. First, our prayer, here or anywhere else, now or at any other time, is to be made not only with Christ but in Christ. We form part of His Mystical Body, and this implies,-among other magnificent truths-that it is His Will and intention to prolong, to continue, in us, the prayer He made in his life here on earth. He would employ us, use our faculties, our minds, hearts, wills, and bodies, as the instruments by means of which He would go on praying right up to the end of time.

CHRIST LIVES IN ME

Hence St. Paul wrote that inspiring if somewhat startling sentence: “I live, now not I, but Christ liveth in me.” He re- peats this over and over again. When, then, we kneel for our mental prayer-or for any prayer at all-it is the Will of Our Lord to pray through us. The prayer is not so much ours as His. Why don’t we think more of this stunning fact and work out its implications?

At once it becomes clear that if in Gethsemani His prayer was filled with sorrow, with loneliness, with apparent failure, then His prayer in us must, at least sometimes, take on the same characteristics. Here is the answer to those of us who experience nothing in our prayer but weariness and desolation. Here is the proof that our prayer can be real and efficacious when we seem to ourselves to spend the time wondering if the clock is stopped.

St. Teresa, wonderful “woman of prayer that she was, tells, us- and God bless her for it-that at times she felt such weariness in her mental prayer that she would shake the hourglass to make the sand pass the more quickly from one section to the other. She had to try to resist that urge, but she did not, always succeed. For us the urge will be to fiddle with our wrist-watch and look at it every few minutes to make sure we don’t remain too long!

“What would St. Ignatius tell us? When you are inclined to shorten your prayer, do the very opposite. You want to clip off five minutes; add on five extra instead! This is sound psychology. Try it. In the few extra minutes a generous God often rewards the soul with many lights and graces.

KEEP ON DOING YOUR BEST

At the same time, it is vitally necessary to insist that, if weariness is no indication of failure, so, on the other hand, sweetness and delight and consolation do not necessarily mean that we are making the best possible prayer. Two people might come for their prayer into the same church. One is filled with all sorts of spiritual happiness. God seems so very near. His love is experienced so vividly. Some word from His lips fills the soul with enthusiasm, or ardent desires to sacrifice one’s all for Him. Splendid, this, and it is His gift, to be accepted with humility and gratitude.

To that soul St. Ignatius would say: “Remember all this will change; perhaps in a day or an hour you will have lost these grand feelings. Do not be surprised, and above all, do not abandon prayer. Consolation is God’s gift. It he withdraws it, go on just the same, doing your poor best.”

The other person in that church kneels also to pray. He tries a book. It seems dry. He remembers what he heard about scenes in Our Lord’s Life. He can recall not one of them definitely this evening. Or if he can, he cannot steady that wretched imagination of his. He shifts from one knee to the other; perhaps he sits up in the hope of doing better; he shuts his eyes to aid concentration. Nothing seems to help. Mental prayer is a mirage. He decides to give it up. “And (Jesus), being in an agony, prayed the longer.” Was His prayer a mirage in Gethsemani? Is His prayer in you a mirage because, like Him, you find it hard?

GOD IN HER

A girl of eighteen was kneeling in prayer in a church. A hardened sinner, years from the sacraments, stumbled in too, unable to say why. A priest walked down the aisle. “Father, will you hear my confession? It’s that girl-can’t you see God in her. . . . .?” He was right; God was in her, the Son of God, continuing His prayer with that girl as His instrument. What marvels of grace He can do through His instrument if only it will allow Him!

6. DISTRACTIONS

St. Aloysius declared officially by the Church the special patron of youth. One reason for this is that it seems certain he never lost his baptismal innocence, though he was assailed by fierce temptations against purity. He died a Jesuit student when he was just beginning his twenty-fourth year.

We mention him here because we want to tell you how he handled his distractions in prayer. He used to propose to himself to make one entire hour (not just fifteen minutes!) without a single distraction. He would remain motionless all that time, in the same position, and, if even towards the end of the hour, he had some slight distraction, he would begin all over again. By this heroic perseverance he gained wonderful self-mastery, a control over his imagination so complete that there came a day when he found it difficult not .to keep thinking of God. Once, in an illness, the doctor advised him to try to ease strain by thinking less about God. He tried, but found it impossible. It was far easier to remember God’s continual presence than to forget it.

Should you and I adopt his method of dealing with our distractions? A general answer would be hard to give. It is conceivable that in a given case some violence of the kind would be the tight remedy. Once when St. Francis of Assisi was at prayer, his eyes wandered contentedly to a little cup be had carved in his leisure moments, so that he paid hardly any attention to the psalms he was saying. Suddenly he realised his distraction, and in his zeal seized the beaker that had taken his thoughts from God and threw it into the fire.

A PRICELESS TREASURE

Whenever we think of their methods it must at least be clear that the saints were determined to become men of prayer. They realised, not merely believed, that prayer is a treasure of great price, worth the selling of anything else. It may well be that what is wrong with our prayer is just that it lacks that holy violence which faces distractions with the determination of a pugilist in the ring.

Another way of dealing with distractions may be just as effective. Why not make our distractions themselves a prayer? Suppose a mother is sitting at the fire, with her little son on her knee. She is telling him a story- incidentally, our excellent mothers should often tell the gripping stories of the Gospel. Halfway through, the child gets a distraction. People start cheering loudly in the street below. The child’s natural curiosity is aroused. He forgets all about the grand story, clambers down from mother’s knee, and pulls her over to the window.

Could you imagine any mother who would object or be offended that her wonderful tale is dismissed thus summarily? Why, she cares only for the contentment of her child and she is quite happy to try to answer his questions about the persons gathered below. The child has had a distraction during the conversation with mother, and they turn the distraction itself into subject-matter for discussion.

During your prayer your mind wanders, perhaps, to someone you met in the office today. Why not pray with your whole heart for him or her? You begin to think of the good news you received in a letter this morning. Why not lift up your heart in an act of joyous gratitude to God? Your approaching holidays loom pleasantly before your mind. Can’t you ask God to bless them, and Mary to share all your relaxations? Can’t you pray against accidents, can’t you go on to pray for some poor person or persons killed in a car smash?

A COMMON INTEREST

What we have to try to understand is that when Our Lord assures us He loves us He is not speaking the language of mere rhetoric. He means just what He says. Now one of the delights of friendship is that your friend and you can talk to each other about any subject under the sun. The fact that that subject interests you makes it interesting at once for your friend also.

Do you imagine the divine Friend is not interested in your holiday, in the mistake you made in your accounts, in the worry you have about your son in England, in the physical pain you have begun to feel, in everything and everyone, in fact, who interests or distracts you? Do we forget that we are, not only God’s children, “but God’s little children, and what little child ever found it difficult to speak to a parent who loves it, even, or especially, about its “distractions?”

7. “PRAY LIKE THIS”

A workman used to visit the church every evening. He would spend hours there, kneeling or sitting quietly. The priest became interested and talked to him about his prayer. How did he pray? He never used a book or beads, did not make the Way of the Cross very often. So what? “Father,” he answered, “the only instruction I got on prayer which really helped me was given me by a holy priest when I was quite young. “My son,” he told me, “when you want to pray, all you have to do is to bring before your mind some scene in the gospel, look, at the persons in it, hear what they are saying, watch what they are doing. Then speak, now to one of them, then to another, exactly as you would do if you were actually present there.” I have told many about this simple method, Father. It has helped myself enormously and I know that the others have advanced much more than I by praying like this.”

FOLLOW MARY

St. Luke tells the story of Our Lady’s Visitation in his first chapter. “Mary,” he writes in verse 39, “ rising up in those days, went into thehill country with haste. . . . .and entered into the house of Zachary and saluted Elizabeth.”

Let me try, first of all, to see Our Lady. She has been talking to the angel; the stupendous mystery of the Incarnation has taken place, she is carrying the Son of Godin her womb. One might suggest that all Mary’s natural longings would tell her to stay where she was. Surely her “mental prayer” must have been filled with consolation as she realised more and more clearly what had happened. Should she not remain on in her prayer, enjoying the delights of contemplation? Possibly, probably even, this would be her natural attraction. But there was work of charity to do and Mary rose from her knees and proceeded to do it.

She went “with haste.” Goaded by the Holy Spirit she would brook no delay. And the task called for physical endurance. Mary must travel across the “hill country.” The roads were bad, if they were there at all, but difficulties would not deter Our Lady when there was good to do.

As you look now from Mary to yourself, do you see anything alike in her and her child? Can you find something to say to her, in these precise circumstances, something, perhaps, to ask from her? Before reading on just pause for a while and try to answer this query, and, having found what you should say, say it quite simply.

FROM PRAYER TO ACTION

We, like Mary, must pray; that is why these pages are being written. We, also imitating Mary, must pass from prayer to active work for the neighbour. And there must be no dawdling, no hanging back. There is urgency about the tasks to be done; God’s enemies are alert and the apostle must be up and doing too. Like Mary, we will go “with haste” wherever we can do something to build up the Church of God, to lead souls to Him, to reclaim the lapsed or strengthen the faltering or inspire the good to greater holiness. Often the toils of the apostolate will demand a heavy enough toll. Mary had to make the difficult journey across the hill country, and every true apostolate, to be fruitful, must be nurtured on sacrifice.

It ought not be difficult, watching Our Lady like this, to talk to her simply along these lines. Look at her praying, and beg her to teach us to pray. See her leaving prayer and setting off to visit Elizabeth; note the details given by the evangelist; apply them to ourselves, asking Mary to infuse into our hearts that zeal, the overflow of our life of prayer, which must characterize every true sodalist.

8. GATHERED TOGETHER

Prayer has been well called a secret weapon. Community prayer will call down graces of conversion on souls in sin, here and everywhere. It will obtain courage for our sorely-tried fellow-Catholics and Christians who are enduring hunger, imprisonment and torture at the hands of the communists. It will be an act of love and loyalty to Christ Our King, to Mary, Our Queen, a protest that when His rights are ignored and His commandments scoffed at, here at least, He is praised, reverenced, and served. The power of this weapon can scarcely be over-stated. It is for each of us to learn to use it well, to co-operate in our vast family throughout the entire world, in offering unceasing prayer to God.

THERE AM I

But there is something more. Our Lord has promised that where one or two gather together in His Name, He will be there too, in the midst of them. What, then, when, not one or two, but many are so gathered? He is praying with us. We are members of His Mystical Body. What that means is that with Him and with each other, we form between us one great organism, a new Body of Christ, whose members are joined with Him as their head, and with each other in a manner real and intimate.

In this Mystical Body, then, Our Lord continues to pray. Just as He employed His lips and tongue, His mind and heart to pray in His lifetime, so does He still employ us. We are His members and He would prolong His prayer with us as His instruments. When we kneel to pray He wills to take possession of our faculties and employ them for the praise and glory of His Father. Through us and in us and with us, He begs for the needs of the human race; He expresses sorrow for man’s sin, through us and through our words; He offers, through us, those prayers as an act of devotion and reparation for the millions who never breathe a prayer. You recall His astounding words:”1 in them, and Thou, Father, in Me, that they may be made perfect in one.”

As we know, there—is a widespread and zealous effort to develop the liturgical movement throughout the Church. Hence we have Dialogue Masses, our Easter Vigil, our writers and preachers explaining what the movement implies and how we should foster it. Briefly, it aims at developing that community spirit in our devotional life which we have been describing. It is mighty encouragement to realize we are not alone but members of God’s great family. But the union between Him and us, and between ourselves, is immensely more close than that between our earthly parents and their children. In God’s family all are one, one person, one single unit, all vivified by one and the same divine life. Assuredly we are distinct from God and from each other. But we are united too, all of us “in Christ,” as St. Paul never tires of telling us.

A HARMONY

Our prayer, then, is like a symphony. Each of us must contribute what we can to augment and perfect the harmony. Our part may be insignificant, a note here and a note there, scarcely audible, scarcely noticed in the midst of the brilliant performances of the professionalists. But the small note is observed and treasured by the One Who has the principal part. Perhaps no one else has heard or bothered to try to listen; perhaps we ourselves are rather confused and ashamed that it is so unworthy of the occasion. Perhaps a feeling of envy steals into our hearts for those who can do so much better.

All wrong. What He looks for and what He values, is not what we do so much as the amount of love that goes into the doing.

9. LORD, TEACH US

St. Luke seems to have made a special study of Our Lord as Man of Prayer. In his eleventh chapter He gives us a picture of the Master surrounded by His disciples. Christ has been on His knees and they stand around, rather in awe, as they watch Him “making His mental prayer.” They do not dare disturb Him. They wait till He has ceased and only then present their request. Would He not initiate them into this sacred science? What He has just been doing could He not teach them to do also? Lord, teach us to pray, as John also taught his disciples.

LORD

Every single word of that request will repay careful attention. First of all, they were wise in directing it to Him, rather than to any other. Lord, teach us. At school we appreciated a teacher who was at once dedicated to his work and at the same time highly competent in the art of imparting knowledge. The disciples are at school this morning. We are permitted to join them. We, too, will be wise to consult this Teacher. He is dedicated; no task is “more congenial to Him than to induct His pupils” into the marvels of the life of prayer. Dedicated, yes, and competent, too, as none other can be. For this Teacher sees the Face of His Father in the glory of the Beatific Vision, and prayer, as we have been saying all along, is conversation with God.

Who better qualified, then, than the “Lord” to teach us to pray? Good books can help us; learned and saintly writers and preachers can do much to guide and inspire; but, in the last analysis, it is to Him we must come Who knows about prayer all there is to know, Whose knowledge is the result of direct experience, Who longs to unveil the secrets of prayer and possesses the gift of imparting what He knows and inspiring His pupils with the longing to learn more.

TEACH

Then they asked Him to teach prayer. We would be presumptuous if we imagined that we could, so to say; stumble into prayer and make a success of it. There is much we can learn, through our own industry, about how to improve our vocal prayers. Just as a language has its grammar and syntax which we must master if we are to become proficient, so prayer has its rules, its conditions for success, its trials and difficulties, its joys and rewards. Much of these can be learned, and our progress in prayer will be proportionate to the diligence with which we apply ourselves to study.

True, as we have said, the divine Teacher can dispense with much of the grind of the grammar and give us in a flash more than we ever could hope for from our own efforts. But we must not presume on this. Ordinarily He teaches only those who are prepared to work hard.

US

““Lord,” they said, “teach us to pray.” In this school it is not only the geniuses who can win distinctions and high marks. No one is so dull-witted that he cannot learn. Indeed it not infrequently happens that it is the “foolish things of the world” who advance most in this divine science. A condition for entering this school is to become “as little children.” Prayer will always remain a sealed book to the “wise and prudent” as long as they fail to understand that their approach is wrong.

TO PRAY

Finally, the disciple asked Him to teach them to pray. He proposed to them the model of all prayer, the Our Father. Try to stand near them and look at Our Lord and at them as one sublime phrase follows the other. They” must~ have been rooted to the ground, lost in admiration, inflamed with love. There is a method of praying whereby we dwell on each word of a prayer like the Our Father, the Hail Mary, the Creed. These everyday prayers contain a wealth of thought which we too often gloss over.

A priest visited an old woman in her last illness. Did she pray much, he asked. “Yes, Father. I pray all the time.” “Did she, perhaps, say several rosaries, with so many hours on her hands.” ““Oh no, Father. I only say the Our Father. But not all of it. I never can get through it. It is so full of meaning. Just think how wonderful it is that He really is Our Father- God, Father of us, and we, all of us, really His Children.

She went on from there; pouring out exquisite ideas about this prayer taught by the Master Himself. “Lord, teach us to pray.” That poor woman was not an “intellectual” in any sense. She was just one of the “little children” frequenting the school. If you were to visit the school and talk about the pupils to the Teacher, I think he would point her out and tell you she was amongst the most distinguished in the whole class.

10. SELF-CONTROL

The mind is fed by the senses. What we look at, what we say, what we read, what we hear, all combine to make an impression, more or less lasting, on our thoughts. The senses are like windows to the soul. What they allow to come in and what they refuse to admit will fashion the soul in a definite mould.

Suppose you are sitting by the window reading, in a room, overlooking the street in front of your house. A salesman appears, opens the gate, smiles ingratiatingly and begins to display his wares. You are not interested and you have no intention of standing up and allowing him in. When he sees you are adamant he goes away. Ten minutes later one of your best friends moves into the picture. You look up from your book slightly irritated, but at once your expression changes. You are genuinely delighted. You have not seen him for five years, you didn’t even know he was home. All this runs through your mind as you rush to the door to welcome him.

If we are to pray well it is necessary to exercise the same discrimination with the different callers to our mind. A dissipated soul will never enter into the depths of intimacy with God in prayer which is the ideal for the sons and daughters of God. If I allow my eyes to wander where they will; if I stare at everything along the street as I. travel in the bus; if I read whatever appeals to me, irrespective of whether it is going to prove injurious or not; if, in a word, I throw the windows wide open and permit any chance impression to come in, it is clear that the images thus formed are bound to affect my prayer adversely.

If I am a chatter-box, always ready to pour out talk for the mere sake of exercising my vocal powers, I am once more throwing one picture after another on the screen of my imagination, and the result must be confusion and an inability to concentrate when I seek God in my fifteen-minute conversation.

If I listen to every scrap of news, if I gather up every rumour and broadcast it in my turn, if I am curious and do not stop short at deliberately overhearing a private conversation-perhaps on the phone-I am, once more, ruining my chances of developing my life of prayer.

BE ON GUARD

Because the senses are so important you will find that the saints-that is, the people who prayed best-are adamant in insisting on the need for self-control. Every founder or foundress of the Religious Orders enjoins on the members periods of silence, in some cases, indeed, this silence is almost absolute. Likewise, they teach the necessity of guarding the eyes and the ears-”most diligently,” is St. Ignatius” phrase. The same saint wrote a whole set of rules designed to show us how to place a guard over our senses and work for the habit of selfcontrol. These he called “Rules of Modesty.” He spent several long months composing them; he prayed much and said Mass often in order to find light to write them aright. He gave a severe penance, more than once, to some sons of his who treated their observance lightly.

In saying all this, we are not forgetting that, for the most part, you are men and women living in the world. Nobody would expect from you the same uncompromising habit of self-control which one should find in the members of an Order. At the same time, it is true, and must be emphasised, that for want of self-control prayer grows inert and languishes. It flourishes, as a rule, according to the violence necessary to deny ourselves a look, a word, an opportunity to satisfy an inordinate curiosity to hear.

The approaches to the mind must thus be guarded. Moreover, we can do much to control the mind itself, to compel it to think along definite lines. Other lines will present themselves but we can lay down the law and say no. St. Teresa told us that the imagination is the fool of the house. The wise man says it is like the wheel of a cart, always whirling here there and everywhere. It is not enough to banish thoughts that are positively evil or dangerous. Thoughts which are merely useless, which make us day-dreamers, we must learn to deny. We can learn.

Some of what is written on this page was suggested in a hotel the other day. A woman was sitting there at the window, gazing vacantly into the street, waiting for anything that might present itself, in order to try to satisfy the hunger of her mind. If you wish to pray well you will undertake a vigorous campaign against this laisez-faire attitude. It is responsible for stifling, in many souls, the life of intimacy with God.

11. WHAT YOU READ

For seventeen years St. Teresa never dared to go to make her mental prayer without a book. She was raised to a high degree of contemplation; she describes sublime states of” prayer and clearly she is speaking from personal experience. Despite all this she felt the need of a good book near her. Even though she might not actually use it, it was a comfort and she felt it was there to turn to if she felt dryness-as she often did.

People who pray well recommend us to read each night a portion of such a book and quietly turn over in our minds as we go to bed the thoughts so garnered. When we awake, they advise us to train ourselves to turn our first thoughts once more to what we have read. A practice such as this calls for self-discipline, which is excellent and necessary preparation for prayer.

Do not easily reject the suggestion on the plea that it is too much to expect. Intimacy with God in prayer is worth any price. Now, if we were deadly in earnest about growing in prayer, could we not place near our bed a good spiritual book? For a start, let me recommend the Imitation of Christ, by Thomas a Kempis. What is to prevent you from reading a page of that golden little volume every night before you retire? Read it slowly and let the message sink in. Hold on to any one thought and reflect quietly on it. Train yourself to recall it when you waken.

Leave the book open after you have read your chapter. It will be lying there in the morning, a reminder to you to recall what it told you. If you have forgotten, take another look and try to hold that thought as you prepare for, I hope, your Mass and Holy Communion.

CULTIVATE

The number of good Catholics who have, never read a spiritual book is lamentably large. The taste has to be cultivated systematically. When once you have begun to appreciate good spiritual books the difficulty will be to read anything else. You will be genuinely surprised that you could have found pleasure in browsing over so much which passes for literature. I have known a man who regretted bitterly that so many years of his life had passed before he discovered this goldmine- regular spiritual reading.

From the point of view of our fifteen-minute mental prayer, the function of regular spiritual reading is to give us a background for our meditations. How can we possibly plunge deep into prayer and union with God unless we have some effective antidote against the thousand distractions which abound? A steady stream of sound spiritual reading will act like an injection. It will keep our prayer-life vigorous and healthy, even in the uncongenial atmosphere where many of us have to live.

MAKE BELIEVE OR REAL

I feel sorry for young people “when I see them worshipping at the shrines of Hollywood “stars.” The real stars are the saints who shine in real glory inGod’s real heaven. There is nothing artificial, no make-believe, no make-up, about them. They are real heroes and the story of their lives, all true, all fact, grips you in a way that make the tinsel and cardboard of Hollywood cut a poor figure indeed. If once you get to know the saints you will never look again at a Hollywood star, except, perhaps, in pity or amusement. They perform mere antics; the paints do the deeds worthy of men and women who are children of God.

When you have read about some of the saints, pass on to books which deal with the doctrine which made them saints.

Read books on prayer, on grace, on the Mass, and, of course, on Our Lady. There are veritable treasures at your elbow, waiting to be explored. And the principal reason we urge youto explore is that “the thoughts that absorb you are the thoughts that mould you.” Feed your mind on the best and you will see the happy results on your fifteen-minutes” conver- sation with God.

12. HERE ENDETH. . .

Throughout this pamphlet we have kept in view the fact that prayer is conversation with God. It is, therefore, an immense privilege, not unlike what Moses enjoyed when the cloud folded itself around him on Sinai and he spoke to God face to face, as friend speaks to friend.

If the conversation between God and the soul is to be a success two things at least are required. We must have a common language, and the language of prayer is, above all, love. Only love will ensure that we keep faithful to our daily tryst, where God awaits us and, in His turn, speaks also the language of love. Not only must there be a common language, but a common interest, too. Every interest, in the mind of Our Lord, is secondary to the all-important interest of the souls of all men. We, then, who would pray must, -like Him, be zealous for souls. And this zeal is inculcated in our sodality rules.

It is easy to allow ourselves to become preoccupied with trivialities which absorb our powers and make them less alert to appreciate the value and importance of the souls of men. The Master will lift the soul up, like a father lifts his child to see over a wall. What the soul glimpses in prayer whets its appetite for the glory of God and the salvation of souls. But it must show the divine Master that it wants to see and realize, and this is done especially by the habit of self-sacrifice.

A DIRECTION

Our Lord not only commands us to pray. He goes through His own prayer before our very eyes to give us a perfect object lesson. We found Him, if you remember, “rising very early, and, going out, He went into a desert place, and there He prayed.” We followed Him in spirit and found that that simple sentence is packed with matter for our own prayerful reflections. It serves as a perfect pattern for us in prayer.

Not only does He teach prayer, not only does He show us how to pray by His example, but Our Lord designs actually to continue in us His own very prayer. This wonderful truth should sustain us when our efforts seemingly are getting us nowhere. His prayer in Gethsemani was made in bleak desolation and darkness. Why should His prayer in us not be the same?

From there we went on to discuss distractions, recommending, among other things, the habit of trying to take hold of the distraction itself and turn it into a prayer. We are dealing in prayer with our best Friend. Everything, no matter how trivial, which interests us, interests Him too. Surely friends can talk about the things which interest either of them?

We took a glance at our corporate strength. What a colossal power that is! “Where one or two are gathered together in My Name, there am I in the midst of them.” That led on to a few words about liturgical prayer, that great symphony in the Church in which each of us has a part.

When all this is said and done it is only a divine Master Who is qualified to teach this divine science. “Lord, teach us to pray.” We saw how wise that request was, and how aptly it fits in our own case.

Then we considered the vital need of denying ourselves, subjecting our eyes, ears, and tongue, to a careful discipline. Why? There are many reasons but the one concerning us here is that a dissipated soul will never learn what immense treasures are waiting to be discovered in intimacy with God in prayer. We urged you strongly to read good spiritual books regularly, because “the thoughts that absorb you are the thoughts that mould you.” Such good reading is bound to freshen up our prayer and stimulate us to continue on our journey of exploration.

For prayer can progress indefinitely. This stands to reason since it is conversation with God, “Who reaches from end to end mightily and disposes all things sweetly.”

Nihil Obstat:

Imprimatur: @ DANIEL MANNIX,

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis. 15–5-1963.

BERNARD O”CONNOR, Diocesan Censor.

********

Converts: How To Win Them

REV. JOHN A. O’BRIEN, PH.D

INDEX

VARIED and numerous indeed are the duties that crowd in upon the pastor of souls in America. He is the builder of churches and schools, the teacher of his flock, the spiritual physician ministering to the sick, the dispenser of the mysteries of God, the administrator of the temporalities of the parish. Yet it is doubtful if there is any form of his ministry which articulates the dominant note of the priestly calling more accurately than the quest for sheep who have strayed outside the fold.

When Jesus sounded His call to the first apostles who were laboring along the shores of the sea of Galilee, He said: “Come ye after me, and I will make you to be fishers of men.” In that divine invitation the Master placed His finger upon the salient feature of the priestly calling, the seeking for souls, the “fishing for men.” His whole ministry was the manifestation of a quenchless thirst for souls, a ceaseless, driving hunger for the sheep who had strayed away-a hunger that was rendered vocal in those pleading words to His apostles: “And other sheep I have, that are not of this fold: them also I must bring, and they shall hear my voice, and there shall be one fold and one shepherd” (1) It was this same yearning which found its reverberation in the Master’s prayer immediately preceding His passion, when He said: “I pray for them also who through their word shall believe in me: that they all may be one, as thou, Father, in Me and I in thee.” (2)

This truth the Catholics of England not only realized but put into practice. The Catholic Evidence Guild continued its street preaching in spite of the blackouts. It was indeed a unique experience for the writer to walk one night during the first year of the war into a blacked-out Hyde Park in the midst of London’s teeming millions. Not a light was visible. As one came near the gate, however, where the various soap-boxes for the speakers are arranged, he heard the usual sound of voices. On one such soap-box was a young Catholic layman, a member of the Catholic Evidence Guild, who was presenting the teaching of the Catholic Church concerning the forgiveness of sin. A crowd of probably several hundred was standing roundabout.

The fact that no lights were burning, instead of hindering members of the crowd from asking their usual questions, probably encouraged them. For there was the usual pouring in of questions and the raising of difficulties. Indeed, a listener had the feeling that certain questioners rather enjoyed the blackout because of the cloak of anonymity it wrapped around them. It was a memorable sight for the writer, and it brought one back in mind and in spirit to the early disciples who spoke in the darkness of the Roman caves to little bands of catechumens.

In the fall of 1940, we were privileged to lend a little hand to the priests at St. Patrick’s Church, South Bend, in their efforts to win converts for Christ. With the thought that a brief statement of the method of procedure and the type of organization that was formed to recruit prospective converts, might prove stimulating and helpful to all zealous Catholics, we shall outline these briefly.

A RECRUITING CLUB

The announcement of our intention to institute a course of public lectures on the credentials and doctrines of the Catholic Faith was announced to the congregation at all the Sunday Masses. Volunteers to assist in recruiting people to attend the course of lectures were requested. About 35 or 40 responded. We met with this group two nights a week for the first couple of weeks, and used the meetings to pool suggestions as to likely persons to contact. Then suggestions were made as to a likely member of the parish to call upon such a prospect. It was a matter of surprise and encouragement to most of the lay members present to discover names of people they had known for many years, but whose interest in the Catholic religion they had never previously suspected.

At these meetings, we stressed the fact that, just as salesmen for great commercial organizations must press into service all the psychology of approach and use all the consummate tact of which they are capable, so likewise in the quest for souls we must exercise the greatest zeal and the greatest resourcefulness to obtain the far greater goal for which we are seeking.

1 John. x, 16. 2 John. XVI1, 20, 21.

One interesting case is worth citing. A day student at a girl’s college, a young woman of about 19, pointed out that for the life of her she could not think of a non-Catholic prospect to call upon.

“Don’t you know any non-Catholics?” we asked.

“Yes, I know a few,” she responded, “but I never heard a single one of them express the least interest in learning about the Catholic Church.”

“Why don’t you invite one or two of them to Mass?” we asked. “See if that may not be the beginning of such an interest.”

This she promised to do.

Shortly afterward, in conducting a retreat for the students at that college, we gave a conference on convert work by lay people. Hearing that the students were interested in helping non-Catholics find their way into the Catholic Church, a non—Catholic student at that very college approached us and said that she lived in the nearby city and that, while she had many Catholic friends, she had never been invited by any of them to investigate the Catholic religion. The chum with whom she travelled out every day on the bus to the college was the young lady who had stated that she could not, to save her life, think of a non-Catholic who was interested in making the investigation into the Catholic Church. This goes to show how frequently we pass up opportunities which, with a little exploration, could be turned to a divine usefulness and would yield many and many a convert to the Church of Christ.

PULPIT ANNOUNCEMENT

On the three Sundays preceding the beginning of the class, an announcement of the course of instruction for converts was made. The following is the announcement: “A class of instruction will be held for all who are interested in learning the real teachings of the Catholic faith. Not only non-Catholics but also Catholics who feel themselves rusty in the practical knowledge of their faith are invited to attend. If each of you will run over the list of your nonCatholic friends, you will be able to find at least one who has at some time expressed an interest in the Church, or who could easily be interested in it if he were properly approached.

“The duty of spreading the Catholic faith rests not only on the clergy but on every layman and woman as well. Surely none of you would want to face Almighty God on judgment day and tell Him that in all your life you did not win one single soul for Him Who shed His blood for every human being. Remember the promise of St. James: “He who causeth a sinner to be converted from the error of his ways shall save his soul from death, and shall cover a multitude of sins.” The greatest blessing you can confer upon any non-Catholic whom you love, is to guide him to a knowledge of the faith of Christ.

“The Catholic faith is so frequently mis represented by its enemies that it will be profitable for every fair-minded non-Catholic fellow citizen to learn the actual truth. Besides, it is a matter of great human interest and cultural value to know the religious belief of more than four hundred million men and women who are members of every nation under the sun. They constitute the largest religious body in the world today. You are invited to bring your non-Catholic friend, simply to come and listen, without obligating himself to become a Catholic or to accept a single tenet of the faith. In fact, we shall never solicit any outsider who attends to embrace the faith. We shall leave that entirely to his own conscience, after learning the Catholic faith and its credentials. If he wishes to become a Catholic, we shall be only too happy to welcome him to the Church of Christ. But if, on the other hand, it should not prove acceptable to him, we shall be just as good friends as ever. In any event, the non-Catholic party must take the initiative. We want every one who comes to feel perfectly at ease, and to realize that we have no other purpose than to present clearly and honestly the teachings of the Catholic faith, and the reasons on which they rest.”

AROUSING INTEREST

On the third Sunday, we not only made the announcement but we preached a brief sermon on the duty of all Catholics to assist in carrying out the injunction of the Divine Master to preach His doctrines to all mankind. We pointed out that a Catholic layman who enjoys the benefits of religion, who hears Mass regularly and is nourished by the sacraments, should out of gratitude for such divine blessings make an earnest effort to share such treasures with those who are outside the household of the faith. This, we believe, should be a point to be stressed frequently to our Catholic people.

In almost every congregation there are many who need just such an announcement as the preceding to arouse their zeal and interest. Most of the laity seem, strangely enough, to be oblivious of any duty on their part of winning converts to the faith. The announcement reveals their obligation and at the same time offers them an easy and practical way of fulfilling it. The priest stands ready to do the actual instructing, if they will simply bring their non-Catholic friends to him.

It will be a source of surprise to the pastor of even an average-sized congregation in almost any town or city to discover the response to such an announcement. There are probably a number of young men and women in the parish who are keeping company with non-Catholics who will recognize the excellent opportunity which such a class would offer to their non-Catholic friends to acquire a correct insight into the Catholic faith under circumstances pleasant and free from the slightest embarrassment. Then, too, there will be parishioners who will recall friends and neighbors who attend no church whatsoever, and who begin to realize for the first time what an easy and pleasant task it would be to invite them to such a course of instruction in the fundamental truths of religion.

Parishioners are apt to recall business associates or employees whose lives could be immeasurably enriched by the quickening influence of Catholic truth and her sacramental channels of divine grace. Many priests who have made such an announcement have testified that persons turned up on the opening night whom they never suspected of having any interest in the Catholic religion, and many whom they had never even seen before. It is advisable to make the announcement on three Sundays to keep the matter before the congregation so that it will not easily escape their minds, and to allow them sufficient time to advise their non-Catholic friends and to follow up any prospective clue.

THE CLASS MEETING

At the first meeting about 75 people turned out. The meeting was held in the school auditorium instead of in the Church with the thought that some non-Catholics might feel more inclined to enter the school auditorium than they would to enter the church proper. Of the total attendance, about half were non-Catholics, and some were Catholics who had been lax in the practice of their faith. The first lecture was devoted largely to the importance of making a fair, honest, and thorough investigation of the Catholic religion. We pointed out the numerous misconceptions which nonCatholics frequently entertain about the Catholic faith, and then showed how inaccurate and unfounded were many of those conceptions.

We made it a point to get the names and addresses of all the people present, and stressed the importance of attending the entire course of instruction with great regularity and punctuality. We distributed copies of The Faith of Millions to each non-Catholic person.

We followed in our exposition the general sequence of topics as presented in that volume. We lectured for about forty minutes, and then invited questions from the audience. This procedure was continued for about three months, when the priests at St. Patrick’s took each non-Catholic prospect for individual conferences and instruction. This combination of the class method and private conference seemed to us to be the ideal method. It is effective. It is pleasant and easy for the prospective convert. It places him or her under no positive obligation to embrace the faith, such as one might feel who had taken many hours of a busy pastor’s time in private instruction. Then the fact that individual conferences are offered, removes the objection that the priest will not know individual cases and individual needs. We recommend it as efficient, practical, and proven by experience to be successful.

After three months of systematic instruction, we had gathered a group of 28 people who were anxious to be admitted into the faith of Jesus Christ. As a result of their investigation, they were completely convinced that the Catholic Church is the Church founded by Jesus Christ, and is the one which offers to them the supreme help in achieving their eternal salvation.

As many of these people had little or no previous Catholic association, we arranged to have a Big Brother and a Big Sister to act as sponsors for each convert. They not only acted as the sponsors at Baptism, but they came with the convert to kneel at his side at his First Holy Communion, and of course to receive Holy Communion likewise themselves. These sponsors were instructed to “follow through” with the convert. They were asked to keep in close touch with their younger brother, in the faith, and to offer him all the assistance and guidance which a convert to the faith almost inevitably needs.

PUBLIC RECEPTION OF CONVERTS

The profession of faith and the baptism of the group occurred on Saturday. In order to awaken in the congregation a genuine zeal for convert-making, we arranged to have the converts repeat the public profession of their faith at the Mass on the following Sunday. The sight of this large group approaching the altar railing and repeating aloud the moving words of the profession of faith stirred the audience probably more than any sermon they had ever heard.

“It was the first time in my life I ever witnessed such a sight,” said a man to the pastor after the Mass. “I recognized one of the group as a business man, and when I realized how many obstacles he had to climb over to get into the fold of Christ, it made me realize how grateful I should be for the favor and the blessing which I received at birth in being baptized in the Catholic faith.”

We believe that the public reception of converts is eminently worth-while. It is not done by way of glorification of the work of the pastor. For everyone realizes, and no one more than the priest instructing converts, that the work of conversion is due primarily to the grace of God. Our people are, however, deeply impressed by the spectacle of nonCatholics coming and bowing their heads and making their formal profession of faith in the teachings and practices of the Holy Catholic Faith. There is no reason why this should not be used as an example, no reason why it should not be used as a stimulus for the enhancement of lay missionary work in the parish. For more than a quarter of a century the writer has used this method of public reception of converts, and it has usually afforded him a half dozen prospects for the next class of instruction.

The Mass was celebrated by the President of the University of Notre Dame, who spoke a few words at a brief meeting after the Mass. A sermon featuring the conversion of Cardinal Newman, with its implications for the scene in America today, was preached by the writer.

200 CONVERTS

Since the inauguration of the first class, the pastor of St. Patrick’s, the Rev. Patrick H. Dolan, C.S.C., and his assistant, the Rev. Walter J. Higgins, C.S.C., have followed with ten more classes, and have recently received their 200th convert into the Catholic faith. This they have accomplished in the period of about five years. Their people have become infected with their contagious zeal for rounding up converts and bringing them for instruction to the rectory. A house-to-house canvas had been made throughout the city, and this afforded a large list of names for potential convert work. Looking for the lost sheep has become for priests and people not an exceptional activity but part of the daily routine. The result has been a continuous stream of converts to the Communion railing at St. Patrick’s and the bowing of 200 heads before the Cross of Christ in solemn profession of the Catholic faith.

The Catholic Directory shows that we are winning about three converts per priest each year. While it is to be acknowledged that a considerable number of these priests are not engaged in the pastoral ministry, nevertheless the figures indicate that still further progress should be possible along these lines. The experience of the two priests at St. Patrick’s who have, with the assistance of their people, won 200 souls for Christ is evidence that all of us can, with zeal, industry and determination, accomplish much more in answering the age-old cry of the Divine Master for the souls of the sheep who have become lost, strayed or stolen.

In You Too Can Win Souls we detail various methods by which Catholics can help lead their churchless friends and neighbors into the Church. Chief among them are: setting a good example, bringing a churchless friend to Mass or the other devotions, answering questions about your faith, using suitable occasions to tell about the peace and happiness your religion gives you, doing some act of kindness, bringing a person to an Inquiry Class and sharing Catholic literature. We shall cite examples of persons who won converts through the last two methods respectively.

RECRUITS TWO PROSPECTS

Mrs. Edgar Olson of St. Augustine’s parish, Kalamazoo Michigan, was attending the nine o’clock Mass one Sunday in September, 1952, when she heard the following announcement from the pulpit:

“An Inquiry Class will be held on Monday and Thursday evenings at eight o’clock in the school auditorium. St. Augustine’s parish has received as many as ninety converts in a year but has never reached the hundred mark. You will enable us to reach that coveted goal if each of you will do your best to bring one churchless friend or neighbor to this class, and God will reward you abundantly.”

“I immediately thought,” said Mrs. Olson, “of my two daughters-in-law, Velma and Betty. Here’s an excellent chance to give them an insight into the Catholic faith. Perhaps through God’s grace they may be moved to embrace it and thus unify their family life and bring up their children fervent Catholics.

“That very afternoon,” Mrs. Olson added, “I called on Velma and told her about it-there’s no obligation to join- you can find out all about the Catholic religion from an expert and see if it doesn’t offer you something that will enrich your life here and help you achieve eternal life. There’s nothing to lose and a lot to gain.”

“Sounds attractive,” remarked Velma. “I’ve often felt that it would be nice to join my husband Willis in prayer and thus set the example for our two youngsters. They’ll be asking questions pretty soon if they see only one of their parents reciting the Rosary. I’ll go with you.”

Leaving Velma, Mrs. Olson drove over to Betty’s and extended the same gracious invitation. Betty has five youngsters. She too was feeling the need of unifying her family life and setting an example of a common religious faith and practice for her children.

“This is good news, indeed,” was Betty’s comment. ‘It’s nice to know that Catholics are interested in sharing their faith with others. Most of us have thought of Catholics as rather a smug lot, so wrapped up in their own religion that they aren’t concerned about outsiders. If Irving will “baby sit” that evening, I’ll go with you and Velma.”

When Betty and Velma came with Mrs. Olson that Monday evening, they were surprised to see the large crowd that turned out. We had “talked it up” at all the Sunday Masses and had urged each adult to bring one inquirer and, if he couldn’t do that, to come himself.

Rarely have our laity been invited to take an active part in the apostolate of saving souls. The hundreds that turned out that night gave a convincing demonstration of the willingness of the laity to respond to an appeal for spiritual help. It’s such a pleasant change from the financial appeals with which they must usually be inundated, much to the pastor’s regret. Their response showed that when we once harness the good will and latent zeal of our laity-as loyal and devoted as in any country in the world-to the task of sharing their faith with churchless friends, we shall win not merely 120,000 but a million converts each year. The enlistment of our 30,000,000 laity in recruiting attendance at Inquiry Classes is the next important step in the convert movement in America.

“Betty and Velma,” said Mrs. Olson “were delighted with that first session. Through the generous kindness of the pastor, Monsignor John R. Hackett, they were given their choice of a copy of The Faith of Millions or What’s the Truth About Catholics? The lecturer was kind and friendly; not a single critical word was spoken of members of other faiths. The talk was constructive, and the emphasis was upon prayer and the love of God. It was just the sort of “eye opener” both of them needed. There was no difficulty after that. They came to every meeting and found the teachings of the Church reasonable and the evidence of her divine origin unmistakable. They learned their prayers and recited them devoutly.”

On Sunday, December 6, 1952, Betty and Velma, with their husbands at their sides, along with twenty-five other members of the class, received their First Holy Communion. It was the happiest day in their lives and in the lives of their families. Each evening they now recite the Family Rosary, and God has deepened and strengthened the unity of their respective homes with the pervasive influence of a common religious faith.

That Sunday was a red-letter day in the history of St. Augustine’s parish. It was the first time in its long history that it had witnessed the reception of a hundred converts in one year. Monsignor Hackett and his zealous assistants, Fathers R. P. Taffee and J. J. O’Meara, were jubilant. We had driven up each evening from Notre Dame to give the lectures, and we too were thrilled. But it is to lay recruiters, like Mrs. Edgar Olson, to whom, under God, we give much of the credit for the record-breaking achievement. They and the Inquiry Class and God’s grace are an unbeatable combination in any parish.

Here again we see the important role that alertness plays in winning souls for Christ. As soon as Mrs. Olson heard the announcement, she recognized it as a splendid opportunity to interest her two daughters-in-law in the faith. Allowing no grass to grow under her feet, she drove over that very day to their homes and “sold” them on the idea of following the lectures. Not only that, but she came with them to every lecture. Here is alertness, implemented by zeal and resourcefulness: a combination which will make the work of every salesman of Christ abundantly fruitful.

MR. GILMORE WINS 25

Mr. Gilmore of St. Louis has shown that every Catholic can help lead churchless friends into the fold by loaning them Catholic pamphlets and books. That is the technique which has enabled him to win some twenty-five converts.

He and his wife called upon us one evening when we were conducting a weekend Retreat in St. Louis, and it was then we learned about his method.

“About twenty-five years ago,” said Mr. Gilmore, “Rose and I came up to Illinois University for a football game. We went to Mass at the student church the next morning and met you at the door. I know of your interest in convert making and I want to tell you of a method which I’ve found to be quite effective.”

“We would be glad to hear it,” we assured him.

“It’s the method of using books as missionaries. I buy many Catholic books and read each one. Then I think of some friend, especially a non-Catholic who, I think, would enjoy reading the book and would be helped by it. I lend it to him, and when he returns it I discuss it with him. The book usually whets his interest in some aspect of Catholic belief and thus leads to additional inquiries.”

“Do you tell him then to see a priest?”

“No, not yet. I studied philosophy at St. Louis University, and I can answer most of the questions. I supplement my answers with a pamphlet or book on the subject. Indeed, I often get a person started by lending him a pamphlet. It’s so easy to read that even the busiest person can scarcely plead lack of time. My object is to have the person come face to face with the evidence showing the Catholic Church to be the one true Church. That’s usually the beginning of the end.”

“What books do you lend them?”

“If the person has a high school or college education, I lend him The Faith of Millions. That tells the whole story in a convincing manner and never “rubs the fur” the wrong way. No open-minded inquirer can read that book without seeing that Christ founded the Catholic Church and authorized it to teach all mankind. If the person has doubts concerning any of the philosophical truths underlying religion, I lend him Truths Men Live By.”

“What books,” we inquired, “do you lend persons who haven’t finished high school?”

“What’s the Truth About Catholics? and Father Smith Instructs Jackson are most helpful for them. They put it across in a simple, popular style and explain all the matter in the catechism in a manner suitable for adults. It would be splendid if our Catholic organizations could put copies of both these books into the hands of all non-Catholics. They would dispel the many false notions so common among outsiders.”

“Tell us about one of your conversions,” we said.

“Well, there’s Rose.” He smiled as he glanced at his wife. “She’s my first. When I fell in love with her, naturally I wanted with all my heart to share the precious treasure of my faith with her. And, thank God, I did.”

“Then there’s Dr. William H. Vogt, professor of obstetrics at St. Louis University and a noted specialist. I started him off with some books, discussed them with him, and then took him to Father Hugo E. Harkins, S.J., at St. Francis Xavier Church. He helps direct the Sacred Heart Radio Program and conducts an Inquiry Forum.

“I went with “Doc” for the first six lectures. Then I saw my presence was no longer needed. Father Harkins explained every point clearly and used charts to bring out doctrines graphically. He did a superb job. At the end of the instructions he received the doctor along with many others into the Church.

“That was six years ago. Every day since then Dr. Vogt has attended Mass and received Holy Communion! Now he scolds me when I miss. Of the twenty-five converts God has privileged me to lead into the Church, I’m proudest of ‘Doc’-next, of course”-smiling at his wife-”to Rose.”

Yes, books explaining the Catholic religion are powerful allies for every convert maker: placing such books in the homes of truth seekers is like putting so many missionaries into their midst. Books are meant to be read by many. After reading a good book on your holy faith, why not share it with others? Its value to you is not decreased, and its power for good is multiplied with every additional reader. Because Mr. Gilmore had the resourcefulness to put the right books in the hands of truth seekers, he was able to lead many into the fold. What he did, you too can do if you will but try.

In an article in Our Sunday Visitor, Dale Francis relates how his interest in the faith was first kindled through reading a Catholic magazine in the library of his home town of Troy, Ohio. Some thoughtful and zealous Catholic had paid to have the magazine sent for a year to the library. That person never knew that he parlayed a three-dollar investment into a $20,000 enterprise. That spark of interest continued to grow until Dale entered the Church and then established on borrowed funds a $20,000 Catholic Information Center in Charlotte, North Carolina.

Dale’s story is a challenge to every Catholic to place pamphlets and magazines where they are likely to strike the spark of interest in churchless people. To aid Catholics in accepting Dale’s challenge, Our Sunday Visitor promptly offered a package of sixteen appropriate ten-cent pamphlets for a dollar.

This offer still holds. It affords everyone a splendid opportunity of embarking this very day in the pamphlet apostolate. It is called the “Dollar Pamphlet Bargain: 16 for $1.00.” As soon as you finish this pamphlet, send for this fine package of pamphlets, enclosing your dollar with your order.

WINNING AMERICA FOR CHRIST

The winning of America for Christ! What an ideal! Is it not as glorious as that which throbbed in the hearts of the Crusaders of old, steeling them to brave alike the snow-clad heights of the Alps and the burning sands of the Arabian Desert? Yet who would be so rash as to declare that with the succor of that divine grace which never fails a worthy cause, it is an unrealizable idea? Not by grandiose gestures or spectacular feats which provoke the plaudits of the multitude, can that ideal be translated into a glorious reality, but by the patient persevering toil of many laborers and by methods which embody the ripe experience and careful thought of the most successful workers in the field.

To quicken the pulse of every priest and layman to undertake this great task of winning America for Christ, there comes across the sea of centuries the thrilling challenge uttered by the Master in ancient Samaria. Standing by Jacob’s well in Sichar almost in the shadow of Mt. Garizim, the Master pointed to the fields through which were coming the throngs of Samaritans and said to His disciples: “Do not you say, there are yet four months, and then the harvest cometh? Behold, I say to you, lift up your eyes, and see the countries: for they are white already to harvest. And he that reapeth, receiveth wages, and gathereth fruit unto life everlasting.” (3) With its sixty millions of citizens untouched by the saving ministrations of the Christian religion, America now presents the most alluring harvest, with its fields “white already to harvest.” Who is there who can doubt that in the prophetic vision of the Master there were not included those vast fields that were to rise up out of the Western seas with their teeming millions of inhabitants- fields now whitening with their human harvest, waiting for reapers to come and gather it into the eternal granary? America represents, therefore the mission field par excellence for the Church in the twentieth century.

Throughout this pamphlet we have referred frequently to our “laity.” We would like to make it clear that in all these references we were speaking to you, Mr. Catholic Layman, and to you, Mrs. Catholic Laywoman. Indeed, we often found ourselves wishing that we knew your name, dear reader, that we might address you personally. This is written primarily for you, Mr. Individual Layman and Mrs. Individual Laywoman; and it will be fruitful only in so far as you respond to the appeal that your pastor, bishop, pontiff, and Christ Himself are making to you through our humble words.

Please do not follow the policy of “letting George do it,” or it won’t be done at all. Please do not think that others are able to follow the examples of the lay winners of souls mentioned in this pamphlet but that you are not. With God’s help, you too can win souls. If you ask Him for that help, He will not fail to give it to you. You will find the work of winning souls for God the most rewarding, exciting, and satisfying work of your life. It will transform you and make you a saint. In deed, the souls you win for God will be your safest and best bridge to Heaven. It is well, then, dear friend, to end the reading of this pamphlet with a definite resolution, a clear commitment, a specific promise to try this very day to win a churchless person for Christ. Otherwise, your good intention some day to do something about this matter is apt to evaporate into thin air. What is needed is action, not tomorrow, but today-right now. Accordingly, it is suggested that, kneeling before a crucifix-the crucifix on your rosary will do-you promise, not under pain of sin but simply on your word of honor, the following:

3. John, IV, 35.

“Dear Jesus, my crucified Lord and Savior, I promise that I shall heed Your invitation to seek and to win for You the precious souls for whom You died on Calvary’s Cross. I shall try earnestly and zealously to win souls for You by prayer, by the example of an upright life, by kindness and love toward all men, by explaining my holy faith, by lending Catholic literature, by bringing them to Mass and other devotions and especially to a priest for systematic instruction. I shall do my utmost to win at least one soul for You, dear Jesus, every year of my life. So help me, God.”

Then kiss the crucifix and seal your promise with the Sign of the Cross, saying, “In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost, Amen.”

Nihil Obstat:

REV. EDWARD A. MILLER Censor Librorum

Imprimatur:

@ JOHN FRANCIS NOLL, D.D

Archbishop, Bishop of Fort Wayne

********

Courage—And A Man’s Part

REV. BRO. G. B. SHERRIFF

INDEX

FOREWORD

Courage and patience are required to live really Christ-like lives in modern society—courage, derived from a firm belief in God, realising His Infinite Power and His promise of assistance, and patience with ourselves and with others.

“Courage and a Man’s part” is an attempt to encourage our youth to take Christ into the modern world by their own positive influence for good, because their own lives are built on a strong faith, great trust in God and real Christ-like charity.

This booklet takes it for granted that young Catholic people will be willing to spend five minutes daily thinking about the things that really matter so that, knowing Christ better themselves, they will help to make Him known to the world around them.

To devote a few minutes each day to spiritual thinking is invaluable to the active teenager. To quote from a Doctor, “For those who have heavy responsibilities, the value of a time for quiet thought is inestimable. It gives a sense of confidence that breeds tranquility of mind and certainty of action. This is not a mere counsel for moral betterment. It is medical advice of a practical nature.”

“Courage and a Man’s Part” is dedicated to those pioneer Priests, Brothers, Nuns and Lay-people who brought the faith to Australia, and with this dedication goes a humble prayer to Our Lady, Help of Christians—The Madonna of the Anzacs—begging her to inspire our youth to do and to dare big things for Christ and Australia.

-Rev. Bro. G. B. Sherriff.

“Courage and a man’s part is what I ask of you . . . No room for doubt or shrinking back, when the Lord your God is at your side wherever you go.”

-(Josue 1. V. 9.)

GOD AND SCIENCE

The first Russian Sputnik was indirectly responsible for a great many things, including an increase in the popular knowledge of Astronomy and the laws governing the wonders of God’s universe.

Lord God,

I am living in an exciting age . . . Modern scientific discoveries make me realise the vastness the heavens and the beauty of the universe, hence Your infinite power . . . Astronomers tell us that the universe is so vast, that there are probably stars that will not be visible to man for ages to come . . . such is Your Power, Omnipotent God . . . Father almighty, make me realise that You are the Lord of Lords, infinitely powerful, loving and wise . . . that You are the Creator of all things.

When I see the wonders of creation, may I praise You by the loyalty of my life.

When I gaze into the heavens at night, may I praise You by the loyalty of my life.

When I see the beauty of nature, the grandeur of the forests, the eternal rolling of the seas, may I praise You by the loyalty of my life.

When I hear of the wonders of science, may I praise You by the loyalty of my life.

May the advance of scientific discoveries make me realise more clearly, Your infinite power and wisdom in planning the universe in such minute detail, and, hence, Your love for mankind and for me.

Lord God, Creator of all things, I humbly adore You.

THE LIGHT OF THE WORLD

High up is the Andes is the statue of Christ the King. Since its erection at the beginning of this century there has been peace between the two neighbouring nations, Chile and Argentine, previously always at the brink of war . . . In the Mediterranean, near Portofino, is a memorial standing on the sea’s bed and erected to the heroes of all nationalities who died at sea during World War II. This monument is a statue of Christ the King.

If we stop to think of the tremendous claim of Christ, that He is God, equal to the Father in all things, and if we stop to think of the historical fact that Christ rose again from the dead, it stands to reason that we have no alternative but to follow Him, His ideals and His standards. “I am the WAY, the TRUTH, the, LIFE . . . I am the LIGHT of the world.” There is no other light and no other way . . . we must then follow Him.

Christ, my King and My God,

Help me to be always loyal to You. Deepen my faith in You, my hope in You. Give me a great manly loyalty to You and to Your standards.

You are the WAY . . . help me to follow no other.

You are the TRUTH . . . help me to live by it.

You are the LIFE . . . increase that life in me.

You are the LIGHT of the World, compel me to follow the way You illumine for me.

Give me, Lord Jesus, the courage to follow You and the loyalty to be Your Apostle.

“NOT TO YIELD”

“To strive, to seek, to find and not to yield” are the words engraven on an Obelisk on the Kokoda Trail to commemorate the heroism of those eighteen-year-old Australian lads, who withstood terrific odds to prevent further Japanese expansion. And they succeeded. The untrained soldiers at Kokoda became heroes because they held out, because they would not yield, though they were tired and hungry and worn out.

Christ, my King,

Give me a little of their heroism.

Give me a little of their courage.

Give me their spirit of endurance.

Make me realise, that when I resist temptation, I prove my manliness and my genuine love for You.

Make me realise that no matter how strong the temptation, nor how persistent it is, I cannot possibly displease You unless I deliberately choose to sin.

Also; make me realise that difficult temptation overcome means merit.

Help me always to pray in temptation because with Your help I must win.

Help me, Lord God, when tempted,

Give me the strength “not to yield.”

Give me, Lord God, a similar heroism when I feel most inclined to sin.

Help me, God, to prove my manliness by being loyal to You in temptation.

Help me, God, “not to yield.”

Mother Mary, impress upon my heart, the realisation that weekly Confession and Communion thoughtfully and devoutly received will obtain for me the strength of Christ.

MENTAL SMOG

To quote from the “Encyclopaedia Britannica,” in Great Britain each year 3,000,000 tons of solid matter and 5,000,000 tons of Sulphur Dioxide are emitted into the atmosphere by its countless chimneys. People breathe in these impurities without realizing it and are thereby slowly poisoned.

Christ, Eternal King,

I find myself mentally poisoned by the pagan influences thrust upon me by unscrupulous men eager to exploit the immature and the innocent.

Help me to be loyal to You and to Your standards. . . .

May those standards of Yours be the filter by which the poisonous residue of modern pagan ideas is removed.

The world teaches that I will be happy if I give in to all my desires;

You teach that I will be happy only if I deny myself.

The world teaches me to be selfish and self-centred;

You teach me to think of others and to be noble.

The world teaches me to be extravagant and fashionable;

You teach me that permanent happiness comes from moderation in the use of material possessions. I know that this continual desire for new fashions causes unhappiness in homes and in the hearts of teenagers . . . Help me, God, to control this covetousness.

I know that this continual desire for new things causes serious dishonesty amongst teenagers and causes them to live beyond their means.

Help me, Lord God, always to be honest. Teach me not to follow the false standards of happiness . . .

Impress upon my mind that just as the continual dripping of a tap can wear a hole in the hardest rock, so the continual barrage of false moral standards can destroy not only my own morals but the spiritual stamina of our nation.

Christ Jesus, help me to think and to judge according to Your standards and to resist what is unworthy and base.

Don’t let me be like a sponge that takes in everything.

Mother Mary, at Fatima you requested people to dress modestly at all times. Grant that I will never fail you or your Divine Son.

AT HOME

The tragic death of Brother Broderick in January, 1962, stunned all who were privileged to know him. He was dead within a few minutes, being stung by a sea-wasp. During those few minutes he spoke only twice. His first cry was not one for help but to warn the other swimmers . . .”Get out of the water, there’s a large stinger here.” His dying words were: “My God, I hope everybody is out of the water.” He had lived unselfishlessly. He died heroically. His had been a very happy life as a Christian brother because it had been unselfish.

Christ Jesus,

I need Your help at home.

Help me to be more unselfish.

Help me to fight against moodiness. Help me to control my temper.

Help me to be humble and hence obedient.

Make me realise the deep debt of gratitude I owe my parents.

Make me realise their real concern and love for me.

Impress upon my mind that when they tell me to do this or to avoid that it is really their genuine love for me and their concern for me lest I ruin my life by my own wilfulness or my own lack of experience.

Lord God, give me the manliness and the common sense to obey, especially when I find it hard.

Christ Jesus, help me overcome moodiness and the childish tendency to think my parents have a grudge against me.

Help me, Christ Jesus, to be more thoughtful and kind and to be unselfish. For only then will I be happy

Help me, also, Christ Jesus, not to embarrass my parents by expecting more money than they can give me.

Bless, Christ Jesus, in a special way, my parents, my loved ones and my friends.

Mother Mary, help me to be loyal to those at home, and to become the kind of man of whom my parents will have every reason to be proud.

CONFESSION

G. K. Chesterton once stated: “I became a Catholic to have my sins forgiven.” In his autobiography, he mentioned that one remedy for the doubts, fears and sins of adolescence is confession . . . Dr. Karl Jung, a world-famous psychologist, has said: “The Protestant has no one standing between himself and God. This burden of being directly responsible to the Almighty causes neurosis among non-Catholics.”

‘Jesus, after Your victory over sin and death in Your Resurrection, You instituted the sacrament of Confession . . .”Receive the Holy Spirit, when you forgive men’s sins they are forgiven them.” (John 20:23).

Make me realize that confession is not only a remedy for sin already committed, but also a preventive of sin in the future.

Help me never to abuse this great Sacrament hence, give me great confidence in Your Priests and courage to confide in them in my doubts and difficulties.

Impress upon my mind that the priest is Your expert to understand me and my problems; to advise and counsel me, to guide and assist me, He is Your representative, so help me confide in Him.

Help me to be truly sorry for my sins and always to make good confessions. Help me when I need You most- when I find confession difficult.

Holy Spirit of God, help me obtain the full benefit of this sacrament of mercy by the habit of weekly confession received thoughtfully, reverently, with genuine sorrow and out of love for You.

FREQUENT COMMUNION

Leonard Cheshire, V.C., D.S.O., and three bars, D.F.C., is even more famous in peace than he was in war. He has devoted all his talents and his life to loving God and the poor and afflicted of the whole world. He received the dynamic energy for this work from Christ in the Eucharist. On his travels, should he be unable to assist at Mass, he devoutly receives Holy Communion before the departure of his plane.

Give me, Christ, my Lord and my God, a stronger belief in Your Real Presence in the Blessed Eucharist and give me a more realistic love of You.

Imprint on my heart the full realisation of Your Presence in the Eucharist and the necessity of my receiving Communion thoughtfully.

“The man who eats my flesh and drinks my blood lives continually in me and I in him.” (John 6:57).

To get the full benefit from Communion I must make a positive effort to pray because the effect of grace received depends on my dispositions, the belief, the trust and the love that I bring to each Holy Communion.

Help me to overcome any tendency to laziness in preparing devoutly for Communion. Make me realise that going to Communion is not a sign of my goodness but an admission of my weakness without Your all powerful help.

May I realise, Christ my King, that Communion is not only union with You, but union with other members of the People of God who come with me to the Family Table.

Just as I require food and drink to keep my body healthy and strong so I require frequent and fervent Communions to re-store and preserve the life of my soul.

You, Yourself have said, O Lord:

“Believe me when I tell you this. You can have no life in yourselves unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood . . . The man who eats my flesh and drinks my blood enjoys eternal life and I will raise him up on the last day.”

(John 6, 54–55).

Lord God, imprint these truths indelibly on my mind so that they will influence my life.

Our Lady of the Blessed Sacrament, keep me from sin, that I may never miss the opportunity of receiving Communion with devotion at every Mass.

I thank You for the wonderful freedom I enjoy in Australia. Help me preserve it.

MY GUIDE

“I love freedom-flying anywhere about in the sky. Suppose I forgot all the rules about flying and decide to think entirely for myself. I will soon find myself on the ground . . . Now God has made rules to help us through life. He has also given us a Church. We should expect our liberty to be curtailed in some way by God’s rules, but there is plenty of room for liberty of thought, just as there is plenty of room for the exercise of freedom while still observing the rules of flying.”

- Group Captain Leonard Cheshire, V.C., D.S.O., and three bars, D.F.C.

In Your goodness to me, Christ ,my God, You have given me the gift of the true Faith.

Hence, You have given me Your infallible Church to guide and direct me on the sure path to eternity.

Help me appreciate that wonderful gift of the true faith, and to increase it through the share of Your own Divine Life which the Sacraments give me.

Grant me the humility and the common sense ever to obey its laws and directions and so reach my eternal home. “I do not need a church that is right when I am right, but a church that is right when I am wrong

AND SO IS ABLE TO PUT ME RIGHT.”

Help me to be ever loyal to my Bishops and Priests and to realise that I have a part to play in my Parish.

Help me, then, to extend Christ’s kingdom by being an active worker for my Parish and for other Church Institutions.

Give my loyalty to my church and grant that my life will be such that others may know gnat I can be trusted because I am true to my God and my Church.

PRAYER

Dave Brown, Australia’s Rugby League Captain, 1936. Point-Score Record Holder: 285 points during an English tour; 385 points in an Australian Season. In 1963, Dave was struck down with Parkinson’s Disease, for which there is no known cure, but his health was completely restored to him by the power of prayer. To quote from his own words: “If you can appreciate what it is to be condemned to the life of an invalid with progressive deterioration, and then in a miraculous fashion to be transferred to perfect health, you will understand why I pen these lines . . . I had been ill for over twelve months—my eyesight was affected, my internal organs were in a shocking state; I had a bad tremor in my right hand and paralysis in my right leg. I had been told I would be an invalid for life. Then, February, 1964, I was suddenly cured. My doctor informed me a miracle had happened. My interpretation is that the prayers of my wife, mother, sisters and children were fully answered. Such is the power of prayer.

Lord God, impress upon my mind the importance of prayer . . . help me to become a man of prayer, because with prayer I can praise and bless You, and with prayer I can receive Your help, Your strength and Your courage.

With prayer I cannot fail in the battle of life.

“Ask and you shall receive,” You invite me. Make me then a man of prayer. Help me to pray at all times.

Make me realise, that when I pray at a time when I don’t feel like it my prayer is particularly pleasing to You, because then I pray, not because I like it, but because of my love for You.

Give me the grace to be always faithful to prayer and to visit You frequently in the Blessed Sacrament and there to talk to You as my friend.

Help me always to appreciate the greatest prayer of all- the Mass, when I offer the Holy Sacrifice with the Priest.

At each Mass I wish to offer myself, along with the sacred Victim.

Help me always to co-offer the Mass with effort, reverence and devotion. Give me such an appreciation of the Mass that I will never miss an opportunity of offering the Holy Sacrifice.

Make me realise the true meaning of St. Alphonsus’ words—“If I pray I will be saved, if I do not pray, I will be damned.

Those who are in heaven today are there because they prayed.

Those who are in hell today are there because they did not pray.”

“IT IS THE MASS THAT MATTERS”

At the Olympic Games in Rome in 1960, Herb Elliott brought fame to Australia by winning the 1500 metres in 3 mins 35.6 secs. When on the following morning, a Christian Brother in Rome telephoned to congratulate him, he was informed that Herb and his wife had not yet returned from Mass. It was Thursday, the 8th September, Our Lady’s Birthday. He was at Mass in thanksgiving for his win. “It was the Mass that mattered.”

Holy Spirit of God help me in my thinking to be in tune with the living Church so that the public worship of God, the Liturgy, and especially the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass will occupy the prominent place in my life that they should.

“Prayer is our first duty,” wrote Pope Paul VI, “and the liturgy is the primary source of the Divine Life which is communicated to us. It is the primary source of our spiritual life.”

Impress upon my mind, Christ, my Redeemer, that the introduction of English into the Liturgy isn’t merely to help me understand the Mass better but to make me more conscious of the fact that I am not an isolated individual praying alone. I am a member of the People of God, the Mystical Body of Christ, praying with all the other members of God’s Family. Hence, I must be deeply concerned about the needs of others.

Christ, my Saviour, help me to remember at Mass, the needs of the poor, the sick, the suffering, the needs of Your Church, the needs of the World.

United with all God’s people everywhere:

I wish to praise and adore You at every Mass.

I wish to thank You at every Mass.

I wish to make reparation for sin at every Mass.

I wish to beg Your special protection on all in need and the grace for myself of being Your true follower.

I wish to pray at Mass in a very special way for Christian Unity that there may be “one fold and one shepherd.”

May I ever recall, Christ, Eternal Priest, that the Mass recalls Calvary with all its graces.

May I ever recall, Christ, Eternal Truth, that You teach each day at Mass through the Liturgy of the Word.

Give me, Christ, my Redeemer, a deep realisation of what the Mass is and make it the centre of my life.

Mary, Queen of the Apostles, bless the Church with many zealous priests to share in Your Son’s work and give the laity a deeper appreciation of the Mass.

THE TWO SIDES

Life is like a piece of tapestry, one side bears a picture perfect in every detail, with colours of different light and shade blending in exquisite harmony.

This is the finished picture of a life that has been well spent.

It is the picture as we will see it in the world to come.

For then and then only will we understand God’s plan for us.

The reverse side of the tapestry represents life as we see it now. It is a picture of a confused mixture of threads and colours.

There seems to be no purpose for this cutting or that knotting and for the apparent lack of planning. Yet the hand of the Master-Weaver is there, for every heartache, temptation, sorrow is there, in God’s plan, to perfect us.

A valuable piece of tapestry would take many, many years to bring to perfection. So God, in his infinite wisdom, takes a human lifetime to complete the tapestry of one life.

Lord God, make me realise that every detail of my life is planned by You and that the crosses, the trials, the difficulties are opportunities for me to perfect my own life and to make the finished picture the one that you have planned- perfect in every detail.

MANLINESS

Five thousand men answered a brief advertisement that appeared in a London newspaper early in 1914 . . .”Men wanted for hazardous journey- small wages, bitter cold, long months of complete darkness, constant danger, safe return doubtful. Honour and recognition in case of success! That advertisement had been inserted by Sir Earnest Shackleton prior to his Antarctic Expedition.

Christ my King, my God and my All, help me to take up the challenge- the greatest challenge of all times—“If any man will come after Me, let him deny himself take up his cross daily and FOLLOW ME.

Help me Christ God to follow You and Your standards in a world that despises them and thereby prove my genuine manliness.

Give me the manliness to be pure in a world that makes purity difficult.

Give me the manliness to be honest when dishonesty is regarded as smart practice.

Give me the manliness to respect women though so many don’t deserve it.

Give me the manliness to be temperate about drink when old enough to use it.

Give me the manliness to live as You want me to live and to bring others to You by the sincere practice of my faith.

Give me Your strength, Christ Jesus, which I can most certainly get from very frequent Communion and prayer because being a confirmed Catholic today demands character, courage, stamina and real manliness.

Give me those virtues, Lord Jesus, and help me to be a true Catholic and so do and dare big things for You and for the greatest cause ever offered to man.

MOTHER MARY

“The instant I remembered the Catholic Church I remembered Our Lady; when I tried to forget the Catholic Church, I tried to forget her. When I finally decided to enter the Church- this was the freest and hardest of all my acts of freedom- it was in front of a gilded and very gaudy statue of her in the port of Brindisi, that I promised to become a Catholic.”

-G. K. Chesteron.

Mary, great Mother of God and my mother, I call upon you with all my heart and soul to take me under your special care and to keep me loyal to your Son. Obtain for me a dynamic, personal love for Him in the Blessed Eucharist, and thus strengthened myself obtain for me the grace to make Him loved amongst those with whom I come in contact.

Help me to take him to the world of business and commerce, to the world of entertainment, to the modern world pagan as it is and so win it for Him.

Just as You gave the early Christians the grace to take up the challenge of their day, and to transform pagan society by their loyalty to the standards of your Son, obtain for me the grace to live as I should live assisted by your motherly care and strengthened by Communion and prayer.

Help me, Mother of God, to deepen my own faith and hence be capable of Christ-like living and of being an apostle for truth and charity.

MY PASSPORT

St. Louis, King of France, wrote: “I think more of the little chapel where I was baptised, than of the Cathedral of Rheims where I was crowned: for the dignity of child of God, which was bestowed on me at Baptism, is greater that that of a ruler of a kingdom. The latter, I shall lose at death, the former will be my passport into everlasting glory.”

Lord God, impress upon my heart the importance of my being a member of the Family of God by Baptism.

By this sacrament, I became a true child of God.

By this sacrament, I freely received a passport to heaven.

By this sacrament, I became a living tabernacle.

Make me realise the meaning of the words of the great St. Paul—“Don’t you know that you are God’s temple, and that God’s Spirit dwells in you? If anyone destroys God’s temple, God will destroy him. God’s temple, which you yourself are, is holy.”

Christ, my King, make me realise my dignity as a child of God. Give me a tremendous reverence for myself. Give me a great reverence and respect for others.

Christ, my Leader, Give me the manliness always to be modest in dress and behaviour and never to follow fashions that degrade my dignity as a child of God. Imprint upon my mind, Christ Jesus, that every single human being, irrespective of nationality or colour, was made by God . . . even though he may be naturally repulsive to me.

Mother of God, make me realise that I have an obligation to help those in need or distress, whether or not I know them personally . . . for are they not dear to God?

ENTERTAINMENT

If it is true that TV and Pictures don’t affect us, then the sponsors of TV ads ought to wake up. They spend tremendous sums telling us that a certain food will bring us health or a certain soap will cure our ugly skin. TV people employ salesmen to tell big business of the importance of advertising. Yet, they all us, if we complain about horror or sordid screenings, that these things have no influence on the behaviour of a teenager.

Christ my Leader and my God, impress upon my mind the importance of being careful of my amusements and relaxation because so much depends upon my thinking.

“A man is but a product of his thoughts,” wrote Gandhi.

“What he thinks—that he becomes.” TV, pictures, radio, magazines and newspapers are dynamic agencies for creating and spreading opinion.

Used properly these can be splendid means of completing my education and of providing suitable relaxation. But using them unwisely, I can too easily absorb false ideals and ideas and thus ruin my life and lose my soul.

Lord God, give me sufficient common sense to realise that in entertainment I must select the good from the bad.

Christ, King of Truth, help me realise that I have a real need to read the Catholic Papers, so that I may get Your views on modern problems, so that I may read previews of films and thus learn to avoid programmes that are likely to harm my immortal soul. help me realise that I should avoid shallow literature and read about real heroes and people who have overcome great obstacles, so that I may imitate their heroism and make my own life worthwhile.

OUR LADY OF THE ANZACS

May 1942: Never before had there been so many ships in Sydney Harbour laden with mines and high explosives. Undetected was the entry of two Japanese midget submarines that began firing torpedoes at the heavily-laden U.S. Cruiser “Chicago” at point-blank range. They missed and only a store-ferry, “Kattabul” was sunk. . A national novena to Our Lady, Help of Christians had only concluded that night, Our Heavenly Patroness had not failed us.

Remember, great Mother of God, that from the earliest days of Australia, you have played an important part. It was your Rosary that our forefathers prayed. It was your Rosary that kept the faith strong when there were no priests to help.

Remember, Mary Help of Christians, that the first Australian Church was built by the first Priest to honour you.

Remember, Immaculate Mother, the faith of the gold-diggers who sent gold to Rome to be used in the official Papal Medal made to honour you and your Immaculate Conception.

Remember, Help of Christians, the faith and devotion of past and present generations of Australians and so unite our country that we may successfully spread the Faith.

Impress upon our minds the importance of the words of President Kennedy—“Ask not what your country can do for you, but what you can do for your country.”

May we value the freedom that is ours.

Inspire more and more of us to work and if need be to defend our country from communism and from other enemies.

Protect our youth, Mary, Help of Christians, and urge us to take an active part in fighting against laxity of morals. Grant that we may so deepen our faith and spiritualise our lives by prayer, meditation and the Sacraments, that we may exert a positive influence for good in our country and so save it from the evils of materialism.

Mary, Help of Christians, inspire our youth with a real love and loyalty for Australia, and make us realise that unless we are loyal to God we will not be loyal to Country.

TO DISTANT VALLEYS

President Kennedy posthumously awarded Dr. Tom Dooley a Congressional Medal in June, 1962. It bore the inscription “In recognition of public service to alleviate suffering among people in the world” . . . The late Catholic medico had worked fearlessly to bring health and real Christianity to underprivileged peoples. Though dying of cancer he worked on to the end. He found the happiness and peace of mind that hours of intense pain could not deprive him of . . .”The cancer goes no deeper than my flesh. There is no cancer in my spirit.” Just before he died he wrote: “Bring your talents and the spirituality of your heart to distant valleys like mine, and take back with you a rich, rich reward . . . I send my wish that you will know the happiness that comes of serving others who have nothing.”

Lord God, impress upon my mind the fact that as a true Christian I have the obligation to help those who need my help.

The world today needs dedicated apostles, ordinary men and women, who will educate, guide and help the poor and the underprivileged of other countries.

Only by seeing real Christianity in practice will these people be brought to the knowledge and love of the one true God.

When choosing a career, let me remember the needs of other people and the opportunity that is mine of taking You to them.

As a baptised Christian I have been commissioned by You “to teach all nations.” Help me to fulfil this command.

Lord God, impress upon my mind a realisation of my obligation to help others and that true happiness comes from self-sacrifice and service for love of You.

Mother of God, give me a little of your charity for the poor, the sick and the suffering.

TO FIND YOUR VOCATION

Many boys hear the voice of Christ challenging them to leave all and follow Him as Priests or Brothers. They are good, young men and generous but they hestitate, they are afraid . . . they fail to follow the invitation. Unfortunately, many of these then go through life unhappy because of the knowledge in their hearts that they lacked the courage to try. . . .

Lord Jesus, make me realize that You have a special plan for me.

Give me the grace to know what that plan is.

And knowing it,

Give me the courage and strength to follow it.

And following it,

Give me the trust and confidence to realise that You’ll be with me and that You’ll never fail me.

Lord Jesus, I beg this grace through the intercession of Your Blessed Mother.

Mother Mary, Mother of Perpetual Succour, obtain for me the gift of generosity in knowing and serving your Son.

CHRIST, THE PRIEST

The young man couldn’t make up his mind whether or not to become a Priest. The old Nun to whom he was speaking simply said: “Say one Mass and die.” The youth became a Priest. If a Priest did nothing else but offer the Holy Sacrifice once in his lifetime, he could never thank God enough because of the miracle of that one Mass. St. Alphonsus said: “The entire Church cannot give to God as much honour as one Priest by offering one Mass.” Do I realise the Priest’s privilege? Australia is desperately in need of more Priests for its parishes and its mission work so that the harvest sown by Father Therry in 1821 might not wither for lack of reapers. Is there a corner in the field for me?

Christ bless our Priests and grant that many of our youth will serve You and their country as Priests.

Should it be Your plan that I become a Priest.

Give me the grace to know Your will and the courage and strength to do it.

CHRIST, THE TEACHER

One need not be particularly observant to realise that the greatest need in the Church in Australia today is for more Teaching Religious. There are at least 100,000 Catholic children at State Schools in Australia; many Catholic Schools have more secular teachers than Religious on their faculties. Something must be done. The youth of today must face the crisis and generously accept the challenge by devoting their lives to Christ as Teaching Brothers, keeping in mind the words of Pope Pius XII, “The life of the Religious Teaching Brother is the greatest act of love which a human being can offer to his Creator.” Thus the work begun in Australia by Bro. P. A. Treacy, a pioneer Brother, will prosper. It is a sobering thought, that in God’s Providence, there may be many boys whose salvation will depend on the generosity of your sacrifice.

Christ, the Teacher, bless all Religious Brothers and grant that many young men will serve You and their country as Religious Teachers.

Jesus, if it is Your will that I be privileged to help youth as a Brother,

Give me the grace to know Your will and the courage and strength to do it.

MARRIAGE

God pays men and women the compliment of asking them to co-operate with Him in perpetuating the human race. The purpose of sex in marriage is not only to bring new life into the world, but to make it possible for partners in marriage to express their love in the most beautiful way possible. Marriage is a way to perfection. Husband and wife are to help one another to God; and they help one another by loving one another. Their physical union should be the highest expression of their love. It is a holy thing. It is meant to be meritorious and to bring them closer to God. So holy is their union that St. Paul uses it as a symbol of the closeness of our union with God through grace. It is because it is such a precious thing that we protect it by the beautiful manly virtue of Purity.

Jesus, my God,

If my vocation in life is that of marriage, help me to prepare worthily for that great vocation. Impress upon my mind the nobility of Marriage, and that I should prepare worthily for it, by a life of discipline and self-restraint.

Help me to be pure, as I would expect my partner in life to be.

Marriage demands self-discipline and courage, and wonderful trust in Your Providence. Give me those qualities, then, Jesus.

Teach me not be extravagant and wasteful so that I may provide fittingly for the future.

Help me to find the partner in life who will strengthen me and who will keep me loyal to You.

Help me to live my life now, that may be worthy of such a partner.

MOTHERHOOD

“The most important person on earth is a mother.

She cannot claim the honour of having built Notre Dame Cathedral. She need not.

She has built something more magnificent than any Cathedral, a dwelling for an immortal soul, the tiny perfection of her baby’s body.

The angels have not been blessed with such a grace.

They cannot share in God’s creative miracle to bring new saints to heaven.

Only a human mother can do this.

God joins forces with mothers in performing this act of creation.

What on God’s good earth is more glorious than this . . . To be a Mother.”

-Cardinal Mindszenty.

Christ, eternal Son of God and Son of the Virgin Mary, bless and reward my mother and father for their love and their sacrifices for me.

Grant me the grace that if marriage is to be my vocation in life, I will be worthy of it and I will marry a girl who will be a true model of Christian Motherhood.

GOING STEADY

Going steady should be an immediate preparation of marriage. It is the time when a youth should choose not only an amiable companion for life but the future mother of his children. Undertaken at too early an age it lessens the opportunity of enriching personality by making many friends, and it interferes with study and the completing of training for a professional career or an apprenticeship. Since it is inadvisable to marry before one’s character is properly formed, and it is unfair to marry before one is financially secure, it follows that going steady too soon is contrary to right reason. There is a lot of real wisdom in the humorous remark of Monsignor Fulton Sheen, “He who mistakes puppy love for real love will end up leading a dog’s life.”

Jesus, I live in a pagan world and if I am not careful I will begin, little by little, to accept its standards. My environment may influence me to make judgments that are warped by false values. Make me realize, then, the moral danger and the unreasonableness of going steady too soon, because such a practice creates real problems that can lead to the ruin of my own and of other people’s lives. Make me realize, Christ Jesus, the sacredness of Marriage and the need to protect the God-given, awe-inspiring power that may be used only in Marriage. Christ, my Friend, help me not only to live as You want me to live, but also to exercise a positive influence for good on my acquaintances.

PRAYER FOR PURITY

Purity is a positive, virile virtue by which a man protects the awe-inspiring God-given power that he will use in marriage to bring new life into the world and to express his love for the spouse of his choice.

God the Father, help me always to be conscious of the Divine purpose of sex in Your wonderful Providence. May reverence for the great dignity of the Sacrament of Marriage influence my thoughts, judgments and behaviour now that I may jealously guard in my adolescent years the precious gift that I am to use in marriage for God’s glory and the extension of His Kingdom, or give it back to Him whole and unstained if I dedicate my single manhood to His special service. Help me ever to be pure in thought, word and deed, so give me the common sense and the manliness to avoid all unnecessary occasions of sin.

O Mary, by your pure and Immaculate Conception, make my body pure and my soul holy.

Nihil Obstat:

BERNARD O’CONNOR, Diocesan Censor.

Imprimatur:

@ JUSTIN D. SIMONDS,

Archbishop of Melbourne. 6th June, 1965.

********

Courtship And Marriage

BY MARTIN J. SCOTT, S. J

INDEX

1 -YOUNG MEN AND COURTSHIP

One of the most important periods of a man ‘s life is that which precedes marriage. Marriage is a contract which almost every man makes sooner or later. It is the biggest contract of life. It binds to more than any other contract we can sign. Christian marriage is a bond which only the Creator can undo. A good marriage is the greatest blessing a man can enjoy. A bad marriage is the most dreadful calamity, humanly speaking, that can befall a man.

Business men, before they sign a contract of importance, reflect a good deal on the issue. Yet a business contract may turn out badly without destroying a man’s happiness. He may try again. He can start anew even if the contract has ruined him. But marriage is for better or worse until God parts man and wife by death.

Therefore the young man who is keeping company is at the most consequential period of his life. The result of his courtship may make him a happy husband and father, or a miserable and disheartened partner for life.

The girl has it in her power to make him happy or wretched for life. There is no middle road in matrimony. A wife is to her husband either a solace or a sorrow. His children will be, to a great extent, what his wife makes them. A good marriage means more to a man than a fortune. A bad marriage is little short of a catastrophe. On no one thing of life does so much depend as on marriage.

This means that a young man’s most important decision is made when he says:”This is the girl I am going to marry.” For she is going to make his marriage a boon or a bane. All depends on whether or not she is the right girl for him. A girl who would make one man’s life agreeable might make another’s wretched. The thing each man must be sure of, as far as possible, is whether he has chosen exactly the girl for his happiness.

Marriage is a lottery, it is said. That, is because so many young men make it a lottery. They marry a pretty face rather than a girl of suitable disposition. A pretty face is all very well, but frequently it is misleading. There are certain persons who are satisfied with what is superficial. Some people buy a book for its cover. A pretty face is not to be scorned, but it is not enough.

Is the girl with the pretty face also a girl with sensible ways? Is she the right girl for you? If not, she will be your undoing. Is her character suitable to yours? And how are you going to know? Ah, there’s the rub! If a man could only know! However, just because it is so uncertain, a man should take all the measures possible to know what he is doing. That is the object of courtship. But if he turn courtship into”spooning,” everything conspires to make him marry the wrong girl. If he employs the opportunities of courtship as an occasion of dissipation, of course he will regret it later.

Many of the unhappy marriages nowadays, and there are not a few, are made so because the young man is out for a good time during courtship rather than to consult his future welfare. A good time, certainly, is not taboo-courtship is an oasis, one of the few in the desert of life. But why forget the journey ahead, in the short rest and refreshment possible on that tiny spot? A man and a maid can have a very good time during courtship without losing sight of its main object, and without doing anything that will make them repent afterwards.

For a Christian man will regret it if, in any way, he treats the girl who is to be his wife and the mother of his children with less respect and propriety than he would manifest toward sister or mother. The girl who is the right girl for a young man will inspire him with reverence for her. Unless she makes him feel that he is in the presence of something almost sacred when in her company, he does not truly love her, no matter what attraction she may have for him.

Certain qualities in women attract every man. But love is more than attraction-it is reverence as well. It is something which makes a man feel that the girl he is courting is a God-given treasure that will ennoble and enrich his life. The girl a man marries should be an inspiration to him for higher and for better things. Courtship, if conducted in the Catholic way, which is God’s way, will show a man, ordinarily, whether or not the girl he hopes to marry is suitable for him.

What a dreadful mistake, therefore, some young men make when they rush into marriage because they are taken by a soft voice or a winsome face. What a misuse of courtship those make who measure its success by the extent of the liberties they can win from a maiden! Mark it well, young men, the girl who is free and easy with you during courtship, may not be more honourable as a wife than she was as a maiden. The maiden without modesty may be the wife without love.

Love is so sacred, so sublime, that it is cultivated only in modest courtship. Its fruition is in marriage only. Any word or gesture that a man would resent if used towards his mother or sister, should be banished from courtship. Your fiancée is not your wife. The purpose of courtship is not the enjoyment of any, even the slightest, tokens of wifely affection, but to discover whether the girl of your choice is suited to be your life’s companion.

For she will be your closest companion all the days of your life, closer to you than father or mother, without displacing father or mother in your affection. She is destined to be your helpmate. Your sorrows-and you will have them-will be hers, your joys also. If she is the right girl for you, she will enable you to face any difficulty and to bear any reverse. She will be your inspiration. It will be a pleasure for you to work for her and your home. No matter how good or great a man may be, he is better and greater if the girl he marries is the right girl for him. On the other hand, if she is not, she becomes a dead weight on her husband’s aspirations and achievements.

Am I not right, then; young men, in saying that the time before marriage is the most important period of life?

In important matters, wise people consult wiser heads. No matter how well educated you may be, even if you have had advantages greater than your parents, it will do you no harm to consult with them about your marriage. I realise that young men at present consider themselves well able to take care of themselves. But it is only necessary to look about you to find that in many cases they have made sad work of their boasted self-sufficiency.

A young man owes it as a matter of obedience and love, to consult with his parents on such an important step as marriage. If his own boy later on should fail to show him the respect of advising with him on such an important matter, he would feel it keenly. The man who expects God’s blessing on his married life, must do his part to deserve it, and He commands us all to honour father and mother. Some young men forget that there is such a commandment. They only recall it when they have children of their own.

Love can be a mild form of insanity. Oftentimes I have heard men say that they must have been crazy to marry such a girl. Perhaps they were. When young people are enamoured of each other, they are in a trance, delightful, maybe, but there must be an awakening. And then! They say love is blind. At least, it is not all clear-sighted. That is why consultation and advice will do the young lover no harm.

I know that some who read this, will be ready to grant that it is true generally, but they will say that it does not apply to them. That is why I wish to convince you that it does apply to you, to you more than anyone else. The blindest in love are those who think they see best.

I knew a man of great business acumen, whose common sense was remarkable. He had often given sound advice to others and was held in esteem for his good counsel. He frequently boasted that he would never be fooled by a girl, that when he married he would know what he is doing. Hearing him speak in this strain, I cautioned him:”You are the very kind of man that gets a bad bargain, when your business is with a woman’s heart.” But he was sure of his own prudence. Well, he got married, and his wife turned out to be a vixen. She led him a furious dance, and before long, the poor man seemed to have lost all interest in life. Three years after his marriage, he said to me:”Father, no man is so big a fool as the wise fool!”

I do not mean to be hard on the girls. A girl is just as apt to be deceived as the man. In my talk to young women, I shall tell them now much depends on their accepting the right kind of man. Both man and woman are entering upon a very serious and uncertain venture. Again I say,”Go slow; seek counsel:.consider not only a girl’s face, but her disposition.” Nothing that attracts the love of a man, loses its hold so quickly as a pretty face. The strong bond of love is disposition. That does not wear out. Looks, especially the artificial looks of the modern girl, fade; but a good disposition lasts and improves with association.

In every walk of life there are men who know everything apparently. Usually they come to grief. Successful men are successful because they have profited by the wisdom and experience of others. Having shared for years the confidences of men and women seeking help in marriage problems, and having employed sincere effort in helping those unfortunate in marriage, I may truly say that courtship is the period in a man’s life when he can least afford to be unmindful of the future.

We hear a good deal nowadays about incompatibility. . A young man and woman stand before the priest to be married ; he thinks that she is the most wonderful woman in the world, and she considers him the finest man that ever lived. If the priest should say to either that something might one day estrange them, they would not believe it possible.

And yet how often these two, after a few years, sometimes after a few months, barely tolerate each other! It hardly seems possible. During courtship they seemed angels to each other. After marriage association, they appear as ordinary mortals. During courtship each saw the other under only the most favourable conditions. Instead of employing that period to get acquainted, it was used for amusement, regardless of what the outcome might be.

If a man uses all his power and resources to please a girl, of course she seems angelic. Later on when he pays her just ordinary attention her true disposition appears. In courtship therefore try to be what you expect to be all your life. In a word, be just yourself. Then she will be herself, and there will be less likelihood of mutual disappointment.

In this advice to a young man about choosing wisely, I do not imply that the girl is not lovable and desirable. A girl who would make an ideal wife for one man might make marriage a veritable plague for another. Unless there is mutual adaptability a young man may as well say farewell to happiness if he marries.

In speaking thus to a young man, I am not taking it for granted that he is perfect. What I say to him I say to both that they should make sure that they are united to be lifelong companions, in the most intimate companionship known to mankind.

Since religion plays such an important part in the life of a good girl, it is ordinarily a mistake for a Catholic to marry a non-Catholic. With good people religion is a serious matter.

A good girl who is a non-Catholic will thus be at variance with her husband in a matter which plays a big part in life.

If it should happen that the wife’s religion is not a serious matter, another great difficulty arises. Children will be under the influence of a mother to whom religion means little or nothing. In spite of all their father may do, the chances are that they will grow up indifferent Catholics, or lose the Faith entirely.

The religion of a non-Catholic wife either means a good deal to her, or it does not. If it does, there is created by that very fact a serious difference between husband and wife. If it does not, the Catholic husband is consigning his children to irreligious influence. Children will not make religion a serious matter ordinarily if their mother does not. A mixed marriage is a great responsibility for any young man.

As a matter of fact, difference of religion does ordinarily cause more or less estrangement between man and wife, introducing an element of discord. It does not show itself in courtship, when both are so wonderfully absorbed in each other and other things are in the background. But when everyday life begins, differences in religion assert themselves. A young man should not wait until he is deeply in love with a girl before knowing what her religion is. It may be too 1ate then. Before he begins to court her, he should find out her faith. Even with similarity of religious belief, there are apt to be many differences between man and wife. If difference of faith is added, other differences will be multiplied in number and intensity.

If you are willing to take the advice of one who knows intimately the conditions which ordinarily prevail in mixed marriages, you will hesitate seriously before marrying a non-Catholic. Even with the help of religion, marriage will have its hardships and misunderstandings. A young man needs only to look at his own family to verify this. He knows what has happened in its circle. Of course he fancies that his own married life will be different. His father and mother had the same conviction; otherwise they would not have married.

But all of us must expect our share of tribulation in life, as a reminder that our heaven is not here.

However, do not mistake me, I do not wish to discourage marriage, but, rather, to help to introduce into it the maximum of happiness. If marriage has its’ uncertainties and sorrows, so has single life. A good marriage is the greatest good fortune a man can experience in life. A young man should pray frequently during courtship for God’s guidance. He prays for success in other things. Nothing compares in importance with marriage. His happiness here, and perhaps hereafter, is intimately associated with it.

In conclusion, therefore, let me sum up. Courtship is to be regarded not as a diversion, but as the most serious period of life. During courtship, a man should reverence the girl he hopes to make his wife. A good woman values modesty above everything else, and a good young man will not want a wife who does not put virtue above everything.

Courtship does not entitle a man to any more liberties with a girl than are customary in the family circle. Lust is not love. Sexual familiarity of any kind is just as much a sin in courtship as it is out of it.

Even betrothal does not entitle a man to liberties. God has implanted certain sexual instincts in man and woman for the purpose of drawing them together in marriage, but before marriage any deliberate indulgence of a passionate character is a sin. This applies to the woman as well as to the man.

A loose code of morals prevails among many people who are irreligious and worldly, and the consequences are most dreadful. But I am addressing Catholics, who realise that passion must be controlled by the law of God. If a man’s feeling for the girl he intends to marry is of such a nature and strength that he cannot restrain it within proper bounds, it is to be feared that he is swayed by lust rather than by love.

I am speaking plainly, because with some people courtship has degenerated into licence. And courtship so carried on, breeds nothing but misery, besides being sinful. Marriages which result from that sort of courtship will not be happy ordinarily. They do not merit God’s blessing on them.

Again I say that modesty is the guardian of purity, and purity is the basis of Christian marriage. Everything is undue in courtship that is undue out of it. A sweetheart who invites familiarities is not the girl for a good young man. Moreover, the sweetheart who is subjected to undue familiarities will suffer inexpressible anguish if she is virtuous.

True love will never humiliate or embarrass. Because a girl is weak or over-anxious to please a man, he should not take advantage of it. Let him conduct himself as a man of Christian honour. In that way, true love will increase between man and his betrothed, the only love which will ennoble both and make them worthy of each other.

When a young man goes a-courting, therefore, he should realise that the girl whom he addresses will be his companion of soul as well as of body and mind, for life he marries her. He should employ this momentous time to find out if their dispositions will make for agreeable association through all the years during which they may be man and wife. And, above all, he should be mindful of Catholic modesty, the guardian of purity and the guarantee of true love. A courtship conducted thus may reasonably be expected to confer on man and woman the greatest of life’s blessing-a happy marriage.

II. YOUNG WOMEN AND COURTSHIP

MARRIAGE MEANS a good deal to a man, but more to a woman. When a marriage turns out badly, the man has any number of diversions and business interests to occupy his time and thought. The woman, whose duty is mainly in the domestic circle, has little opportunity of distraction, as our ethical code permits her almost no social life independent of her husband. It is safe to say that for determining her natural happiness, and comfort, marriage is the most important step in a woman’s life. The most important person in her world is the man she marries: he is part of her life-and a very considerable part.

Suppose you could choose your own father or mother! How careful you would be to select the best possible. A husband is more in a girl’s life than father or mother have been. Yet some girls accept a man’s attentions without knowing anything more about him than he shows when on exhibition.

Every man courting a girl is on exhibition: He is at his best. If she accepts him at face value, basing her estimate on appearances only, she will believe that he is one of the finest men that ever lived. It is easy for a man to be nice to a girl when he is attracted by her. He can hardly help it.

Some men are angels in love and brutes in marriage. After the spell of love-making is over, the man returns to normal. It is his normal self that will eventually be in the home.

Common sense therefore tells the girl to try to know what kind of normal man he is who courts her. For the sake of a little vanity or brief enjoyment, she should not give herself to a man whom she does not know thoroughly.

Why are there so many unsatisfactory marriages nowadays? The man does not know the girl and the girl does not know the man. They think they do. But it is harder to know a man or a woman than to know anything else. Yet young people often fancy that they know each other after a very short association.

They forget that there is more camouflage in courtship than in anything else, except war. Indeed, we may leave out war, and put marriage first. A man presents his best, and only his best, to the girl he courts. Of course, that is right-for him. But the girl should realise that he will not always be at his best, and that she must discount a good deal if she wants to know what he is normally.

How often have I heard married women say:”Oh, if I had only known him, I never would have married him!” Perhaps he says the same of her. At all events, it brings home the point I wish to make. A young woman should study the man who offers her attentions, more carefully than any other matter in life.

And yet, see how many fine girls rush to the first plausible man who holds out a hand to them! It happens, too, that a girl, after she has found that the man is undesirable, will sometime’s continue to accept his attentions. She fears talk. What will people say? Her vanity or pride or weakness make her give her hand, if not her heart, in marriage. And then she wonders that her married life is a nightmare.

The beginning of courtship should be so slow and reserved that the girl may withdraw at any time without attracting comment. Before accepting constant attention from a man she should observe him seriously, and thus be in a position to prevent the full development of a courtship which cannot ripen into a happy marriage. A girl should not accept the marked admiration and favours of a man until she knows him well enough and favourably enough to accept his proposal.

In Catholic countries, where a marriage is always a careful procedure, unhappy unions are the exception. Here (America) nobody knows anybody any too well, and there is so much mingling of the sexes, and so little of home life and neighbourly acquaintance, that the whole problem is different and difficult. A girl frequently permits a chance meeting to develop into courtship. What is the result? Too often a broken life.

A man should not be taken at his face value. Let him visit the girl in her home, and let her see him at his home, before she allows him to go out with her regularly. And when she finds him repeating his attentions, let her ask the opinion of her parents about him, and, better still, find out, if she can, the real opinion of his own parents about him.

I know that some girls consider themselves the sole and capable judges in such matters. Very well. They will not be the first to find out, too late, that two heads are better than one. If the young fellow is suitable, a girl’s father and mother will be more glad to say so than she will be to hear it. That is certain. And if he is not suitable, it will be as hard for them to say it, as for her to hear it. It can be taken for granted that a girl’s parents love her and want her to be happy. But they love her sensibly. A girl in love loves foolishly, too often. She closes her eyes to the future to indulge a pleasant prospect for the moment. There are few regrettable marriages where girls are guided by their parents.

The first direction I give, therefore, to a girl contemplating marriage is to go slowly and carefully. If a man really loves her, he will love her all the more for her reserve. This leads me to the second point. It may sound contradictory, but it is nevertheless a fact that men, or at least many men, will take all the liberties a girl will allow, and yet the more she allows the less they will think of her. Is that not strange? A man never loves a girl so much as when she keeps him at a proper distance and makes him respect and reverence her.

Moreover, the willingness to take liberties with a girl, and true love for her rarely go together. The man may think he loves her, but it is his animal nature that asserts itself. A man who, out of regard for the woman who is to be his wife, does not master his passions and respect her modesty, will not respect her as his wife and the mother of his children. It is common to hear men say that they would never marry a girl who would allow familiarities.

A man can recognise a girl’s love for him without her relinquishing anything of maidenly propriety On his very first attempt at being unmindful of her womanly dignity, she should put her foot down hard. If she does not, he may take it as an indication that she wants him to go further. Then the barrier of decency and reserve is down, calamity follows, and eventually sin, which is worst of all. A man loves a woman in proportion as she shows maidenly reserve. If he does not respect her modesty, she may know that he will not make her a true husband.

Now I come to the third point, which will make many scowl, I fear. And yet more depends on it, almost, than on other one thing. In courtship, of course, the girl will be at her best. But she should not pretend to be what she is not. Deception during courtship is accountable for more unhappy marriages than anyone could believe.

Some girls do not care for consequences. They are satisfied to make an impression, regardless of whether or not it is genuine. What is the result? A dreadful disillusionment comes at a time when it is too late to offset it. Love turns into indifference or disgust, and the married life becomes a prolonged misfortune. It is very well for a girl to be at her best, but let it be her true best-with a resolution to maintain it all her life. I have heard girls say that they would use any means to win a man. Such girls usually come to grief-and they deserve it.

Another point I wish to insist on is that a girl should regard not so much a man’s looks as his character. If his disposition does not fit in with hers, if there is not a sympathy of feeling between them, if their natures are not congenial, it is a sign that they are not intended for each other. Better no marriage than an uncongenial marriage. The trials of married life are many under the best circumstances, but under bad conditions they are innumerable and unbearable.

I now come to my last observation. Even with the blessing of religion on married life, we find a great deal to make us realise that our heaven is not here below. But without religion, we are deprived of the very best means given by God, for marriage welfare.

True, some mixed marriages turn out well. But even these would be doubly blessed if both persons were Catholics. Many mixed marriages are tragedies. Nothing is so near to the heart of a true Catholic girl as her religion. Some men will respect the Faith and practice of a Catholic wife, but many more, notwithstanding their pre-marriage promises, will not. Every priest has a sad record of broken families due to a difference of religion between man and wife.

When a man is in love he is under a spell. It is easy for him to rise to wonderful heights of magnanimity. But that spell does not last. The points of difference about religion which seemed little or nothing previously may rise up and form a wall of ice between husband and wife. What is deepest in her life, she finds, has no meaning for him.

But that is not all. When the children see the father practise one religion or none at all, and the mother another, they conclude in many cases that religion does not matter much. The number of children of mixed marriages who have lost the Faith is legion.

A Catholic young woman should hesitate to assume the responsibility of such an outcome.

Before a girl permits courtship to begin, she should ascertain whether the man is a Catholic and a good Catholic. The single state in life is a thousand times preferable, in most cases, to a mixed marriage. When husband and wife are of the same faith, there is a bond uniting their very souls. In joy they will rejoice more abundantly, and in sorrow they will have an unfailing support.

To sum up, therefore, let me say again that choosing a husband is, humanly speaking, the most consequential thing in a girl’s life. In regard to it, there should be exercised more deliberation than on anything else.

In courtship, maidenly reserve should never be compromised. Modesty should be sacred. It is the guardian of purity. It is a maiden’s most beautiful adornment. Even the men who will do their utmost to rob a maiden of that adornment will despise her when they have succeeded.

A Catholic girl should not be guided by the loose moral code of those who have no religion. Courtship has degenerated among certain classes into downright sin.

Some young folks think that courtship entitles them to free love. The law of God holds for young people during courtship just as strictly as it does for everyone else.

The young lady who joins maidenly reserve to her other actions inspires love far more than does a girl who makes concessions to her lover. And when I speak of concessions, I mean anything and everything which a girl would hesitate to do in the presence of her sister or mother. Courtship is preparation for marriage. If she expects God’s blessing on married life, she must respect His law during courtship. I say it is only right and proper that a girl should be at her best during courtship-but let me remind her that it should be her genuine best.

Moreover, as marriage is so important an event, everything should be done to have it as God wishes it to be. Without every possible safeguard, marriage with a non-Catholic is a losing venture, and even with every precaution, it risks true welfare. A girl should prepare for marriage by being true to her religion. Marriage deserves every effort to draw God’s special blessings on it by prayer and frequent Holy Communion.

If my advice and counsels have helped one young woman to recognise and accept the right man, a man of her own religion, who will find in her a God-given wife, I shall be recompensed for my efforts. My words may perhaps, in some respects, seem to restrict inclinations, but I can affirm from experience that they point the way to permanent peace and welfare.

In conclusion, I say: Seek first the kingdom of God and His justice. God’s way is always the best way, here and hereafter. The longest life comes to an end. May the marriage of the Catholic girl be the means of making that end the beginning of everlasting life and blessedness for herself and the man to whom she gave her heart in wedlock.

APPENDIX

MATRIMONY

The Dispositions for receiving the Sacraments-duties and obligations of married people. Abridged from Perry’s Full Course of Instruction.

What is Matrimony? -Matrimony is a Sacrament which gives grace to those who contract Marriage with due dispositions to enable them to bear the difficulties of their state, to love and be faithful to one another, and to bring up their children in the fear of God.

DISPOSITIONS AND PREPARATION NECESSARY FOR RECEIVING THIS SACRAMENT WORTHILY I. You should endeavour to procure the favour and direction of Heaven, by fervent prayer, by being attentive to all the duties of a good Catholic, and by avoiding sin.”A good wife is a good portion: she shall be given to a man for his good deeds (Eccl. xxvi, 3). Nothing is of greater importance in entering into the married state than to obtain the divine blessing; and yet nothing is sometimes less attended to!

2. They who are about to get married should consult their parents (see page 6) and not allow themselves to be hurried away by passion.”My son, do nothing without counsel, and thou shalt not repent when thou hast done (Eccli. xxxii, 24)

3. They should have a right intention such as God had in the institution of Marriage: namely, to be a mutual help to each other; to have children who may serve God; and to prevent incontinence. Their intention, then, should not be to gratify ambition, or avarice, or carnal desires.

4. They should be careful to choose a proper person. This is of very great importance; yet, to be of a high family, rich and beautiful, seem oftentimes to be made the chief considerations by many of those who marry. These may be very well as secondary, but should not be the chief determining motives.

The choice should fall on one of the true Faith and a good Christian: your own peace and happiness, your salvation and that of your children depend greatly upon it. Family, riches and beauty, are but poor helpers to happiness, if the temper be bad, the humour extravagant, or the passion violent.”Happy is the husband of a good wife, for the number of his years shall be doubled.” (Eccli. xxvi, 1).

What is the more immediate Preparation?

I. To be instructed in the nature of this Sacrament, and in the conditions necessary for receiving it; also in the duties and obligations of married life-and to resolve to comply with them.

2. To be in the state of grace: otherwise the marriage would be sacrilegious; and would tend to draw down the curse of God, instead of His blessing.

3. To receive the Sacrament of Penance, if in the state of sin.

DUTIES AND OBLIGATIONS OP THE MARRIED STATE

The duties of married people are most serious and important, because their own and their children’s happiness, both here and hereafter, depend very much upon them. For the fulfilling of these duties special graces are necessary; and Faith teaches the graces this Sacrament gives them.

What, then, are the Duties and Obligations of the Married State?

I. The husband and wife must have a mutual love for each other. “Husbands, love your wives as Christ also loved the Church . . . So also ought men to love their wives as their own bodies. He that loveth his wife loveth himself” (Ephes. V, 25, 28). Without this there will be no happiness. The only limitation in this mutual love is-husband and wife must love God more than they love each other.

2. They must give each other good example and pray for one another, and preserve inviolably the sanctity of marriage (cf. Heb. xiii, 4). Infidelity is a most grevious crime, being: 1st, the violation of a sacramental contract; 2nd, the breach of a vow made before God and the Church; 3rd, a great injustice to the innocent party. If it should be discovered (or suspected, which is often the case), it then sows the seeds of perpetual discord.

3. The husband should exercise his authority with prudence, meekness and charity.”The husband is head of the wife, as Christ is head of the Church” (Ephes. v, 23). Therefore, as Christ is solicitous for the good of His Church, so the husband should be solicitous for his wife.

4. The wife should behave towards her husband with due respect, obedience and submission.”Let women be subject to their husbands, as to the Lord . . . As the Church is subject to Christ, so let wives be to their husbands in all things (Ephes. v, 22, 34 .

If both parties would observe these duties, how happily they would live together!

5. There is another very important duty of married people, namely, to bring up their children religiously. They must instruct their children; instil into them religious habits; see to their prayers, confessions and Holy Communions; watch over them; keep them from bad companions and from the occasions of sin; set them good example; and pray for them. These duties towards children lay parents under a heavy responsibility, and yet how often they are neglected!

These are the duties and obligations of the married state. They are important and difficult, and cannot be fulfilled religiously, without particular graces. These graces the Sacrament of Matrimony gives to such as receive it with proper dispositions. How important, then, it is to make a good preparation for it, how great the advantages of receiving it with proper dispositions, and how careful husband and wife should be afterwards not to lose, by sin, those special graces which it gives to those who receive it worthily!

Nihil Obstat:

CAROLUS DOYLE, S.J., Censor Theol;. Deput.

Imprimi Potest:

@ EDUARDUS, Archiep. Dublinen., Hiberniae Primas.

Dublini, die 18 Julii, 1934. ********

Cruelty To Animals

BY DOM AMBROSE AGIUS, O.S.B

INDEX

THE question of our relation towards animals, which is the subject of our discussion, is a difficult and vexed one, and this chiefly because it has been debated on purely sentimental grounds, and because the wish has been father to some illogical deductions. But if we argue on these grounds, we give the whole position away; for it will be assumed that we have no other grounds to argue upon, which is not the case.

GENERAL PRINCIPLES

It is necessary, above all, to avoid sentiment, to get back to first principles and solid fact. Then we shall find that the Catholic Church has no reason to be ashamed of her history: that her teaching demands consideration for animals: that Popes and Cardinals have urged it and Saints have been its most illustrious exemplars.

Let me say that some wouldbe friends of animals are often their worst enemies, “heaping excessive affection on animals and bestowing on them what has been denied to our fellowmen.” (Cardinal Donnet, 1866.)

Further, animal lovers are sometimes cruel in their kindness, destroying the health and fine instincts of their animal companions by excessive pampering.

The Church, therefore, is careful not to (as Cardinal Gasparri says) “disturb the admirable order of Creation by despoiling man of his royal crown tocast it down at the feet of inferior creatures.”

And the Church must be cautious because there are many heresies concerning animals, based chiefly on Metempsychosis (belief in the transmigration of souls) and animal-worship.

Now let me lay down the principles which we must keep in sight if our work is to be sane and helpful, and effective in winning sympathy for suffering animals. And I would ask you to read an argument right through before judging it.

Man was created in the image and likeness of God: animals were not. Man is rational, animal is irrational, in the sense that although they have a mind, and can feel what the late Archbishop Downey called “psychic pain,” yet they are not capable of grace or spiritual contact with God. Man therefore is a person; animals are non-persons. Man is a person because he is an end in himself, and not a mere means to the perfection of beings of a higher order.

Animals are not persons or moral beings, because devoid of reason and free will (and so of responsibility) and because they were created for the service of man, and as a means (if properly used) towards his perfection. Next after animals comes vegetative creation, not sentient, and destined for the service of man and beast.

THE QUESTION OF RIGHTS

Now a right or “jus” is the moral faculty or power of doing, having, exacting, or omitting something. This is a moral, not a physical, power derived from eternal law, which is the fount of all laws and rights. Therefore animals, as nonmoral beings, have no “jus” or right, in themselves, no personal rights, as against man, and the question of “injustice” (which means acting against “jus”) does not arise. (Prummer.) This is exactly where we have to be very careful. The callous man says: “That’s all I want. Now you can’t touch me!” The animal-lover says: “I am disappointed in the Catholic Church!”

Both are wrong. For the same Lawgiver who “set up creation and disposed it to perfection in a wonderful ordered concord, so that the whole scheme of nature is subject to man as sovereign, because it helps him to attain his own end” (Gasparri), while He refrained from raising animals to the moral order so as to put them on a level with man, yet He provided for them a greater safeguard than mere sentimental attachment; for He made care and consideration for animals an integral part of the moral order of the universe. Right-thinking man acknowledges the animal world as a commission from God, given for his use; for which use he will have to render an account to the Creator.

And so we sayto the callous: “Beware, lest you infringe, not the animal’s rights, for as such he has none; but God’s rights over him,” and to our friends we say: “The Catholic Church elevates and ennobles work for animal welfare into something of eternal value, meritorious, and deserving recompense from the justice of God.”

As Cardinal Bourne said to the children in Westminster Cathedral in April, 1931, “There is even in kindness to animals a special merit in remembering that this kindness is obligatory upon us, because God made the animals, and is therefore their Creator.”

THE EVIDENCE OF SCRIPTURE

Let us examine these principles in the light of Holy Scripture. In the Book of Genesis we read: “God created every living and moving creature, which the waters brought forth, according to their kinds, and every winged fowl according to its kind. And God saw that it was good.” (1: 21.) “And God made the beasts of the earth according to their kinds and cattle, and every creeping thing on the earth after its kind. And God sawthat it was good.” (1: 25.)

God therefore made all the animals and made them good. That is, they corresponded to the pattern in His divine mind, wherein the Father sees Himself in the Son through the Holy Ghost. He saw them good, He looked on them with pleasure; the work of His hands, obedient to the law of nature He had set in them, even as “The heavens show forth the glory of God: and the firmament declareth the work of His hands. Day to day uttereth speech; and night to night showeth knowledge.” (Ps. 18 : 1–2.)

Moreover God’s Providence extends to His animal creation. When God remembered Noah “He remembered also all the living creatures and all the cattle which were with him in the ark.” (Gen. 8 : 1.) When He made the rainbow, He said to Noah, “Behold, I will establish my covenant with you, and with your seed after you, and with every living soul that is with you, of the fowl, of the cattle, and of every beast that is of the earth.” (Gen. 9:9-IO.) The Sabbath was appointed, “that thy ox and thy ass may rest, and the son of thy handmaid and the stranger within thy gate may be refreshed.” (Ex. 23 : 12.)

And this providence of God over animals is indicated more than once, for example, in Jonas (4:II), “Shall I not spare Nineveh, that great city, in which there are more than a hundred and twenty thousand persons that know not how to distinguish between their right hand and their left, and also many beasts?” And in the New Testament, you remember our Lord saying: “Are not two sparrows sold for a farthing? And not one of them shall fall on the ground without your Father” (Matt. 10:29) and, “Behold the birds of the air, for they neither reap nor gather into barns; and your heavenly Father feedeth them.” (Matt. 6:26.) God then made all the animals and cares and provides for them, and takes note if they perish, even the least of them.

Now, still taking our stand on Holy Scripture, we can go a step further. To God, as Creator, belongs dominion, or right of possession and use over them. This dominion He has, with reservations, delegated to man.

“And He said: Let us make man to our image and likeness; and let him have dominion over the fishes of the sea, and the fowls of the air, and the beasts, and the whole earth, and every creeping creature that moveth upon the earth. And God created man to His own image; to the image of God He created him. Male and female He created them. And God blessed them, saying: Increase and multiply, and fill the earth, and subdue it, and rule over the fishes of the sea, and the fowls of the air, and all living creatures that move upon the earth.” (Gen. 1 : 26–28.)

And because He had delivered his dominion to Adam and would not interfere with it (we read) “The Lord God having formed out of the ground all the beasts of the earth, and all the fowls of the air, brought them to Adam to see what he would call them; for whatsoever Adam called any living creature, the same is its name.” (Gen. 2 : 19.)

MAN’S LIMITED DOMINION

Now man, receiving this dominion, is answerable to God for its use. For he is a free creature, having free will, and therefore is responsible for his actions. As with all the gifts he has received from God, so with this dominion over living things, he must render an account of his actions to the Lord who gave.

Besides, man is made to God’s image, and must in his own sphere act as God does, and reflect the actions of his Maker. As God cares for, and loves and refrains from abusing the animal creation, so must man do. This is the primary and fundamental reason for working for animal welfare and preventing cruelty towards them; that we are restoring God’s order; refashioning fallen creation to His pattern; expressing our love for Him in the right use of His creatures. (And in so doing, as we shall presently see, we find ourselves in the good company of the Saints.)

A FURTHER RESTRICTION

It is an obvious deduction that this dominion, so granted to man, does not reduce to the same level animal nature and vegetative nature, sentient beings and non-sentient. For the animal is a nobler manifestation of God’s power than the vegetative; and as animals are created for the service of man, so vegetative nature is created for the service (and apparently, at first, for the sole sustenance) of animal and man.

“And God said: Behold, I have given you every herb bearing seed upon the earth, and all trees that have in themselves seed of their own kind, to be your meat. And to all the beasts of the earth, and to every fowl of the air, and to all that move upon the earth, and wherein there is life, that they may have to feed upon.” (Gen. 1 : 29–30.) And only after the Fall and the Flood do we read, “And every thing that moveth and liveth shall be meat for you; even as the green herbs have I delivered them all to you.” (Gen. 9:3.)

Fr. Fox, a Professor of Philosophy, points out the moral. “In imparting to the brute creation a sentient nature, capable of suffering, a nature which the animals share in common with ourselves, God placed on our dominion over them a restriction which does not exist with regard to our dominion over the non-sentient world. We are bound to act towards them in a manner conformable to their nature.”

GOD’S FATHERHOOD EXTENDS TO ANIMALS

I quoted to you just now Cardinal Bourne, who always picked his words very carefully. This is the end of his remarks: “God made the animals and is therefore their Creator, and, in a measure, His Father-hood extends to them.” You will have noticed, too, how our Lord speaks of His Father caring for and providing for animals. So we, in caring and providing for them, are imitating His action. “Be you therefore perfect, as also your heavenly Father is perfect.” (Matt. 5 : 48.)

There is another sense in which God’s Fatherhood extends to animals. “Of Him,” says the Apostle, “all paternity in heaven and earth is named.” (Eph. 3 :15.) All parenthood, in men and animals therefore, is in some sense a reflection of the divine Fatherhood. You remember our Lord’s metaphor, “How often would I have gathered together thy children, as the hen doth gather her chickens under her wings.” (Matt. 23:37.) And St Augustine says, “You have only to see a hen to know her for a mother” (so solicitous is she for her young).

REASON MUST BE FOLLOWED

Now we come to a simple principle of universal application. In the use of all gifts which God has given us we are bound to follow the dictates of right reason. Therefore in the use of this dominion over animals which God gave man, we are bound to follow reason. For, as St Thomas says, “There is an order, not only in things, but also in the use of things.” In giving us dominion, God did not give us unrestricted power over creation, which belongs to Him alone, but power limited by the principles which govern us in the case of anything lent us for use. These principles are three:

(1) To use it as the owner himself would use it (and certainly not against his interests).

(2) Not to exceed, without special permission, the limits imposed by the end in view of which the use was given.

(3) To observe, ex justitia, the conditions imposed by the owner.

If these principles were universally observed in the case of animals, the need for a Society like the R.S.P.C.A. would not exist. Unhappily, human nature being what it is, such a Utopia shows no signs of appearing.

HAVE ANIMALS RIGHTS OF ANY KIND?

We have insisted that animals, not being moral persons, have no personal rights as against their masters. Yet they have rights, “ratione Creatoris,” that is, they cannot be maltreated without infringement of the rights of their Creator, and “ratione ordinal creatae,” that is, without dislocating God’s order in nature. To the question: “Have animals rights of any kind as against their masters or owners ?” the Holy Office, whose answers are of course authoritative, replied: “YES.”

As a commentary on this, I add two passages written in another connection. The first is brief but clear from the theologian Cardinal Zigliara. “The service of man is the end appointed by the Creator for brute animals. When, therefore, man, for no reasonable purpose, treats the brute cruelly, he does wrong, not because he violates the rights of the brute, but because his action conflicts with the order and design of the Creator.”

Equally clear, and more merciful, is Cardinal Manning: “It is perfectly true that obligations are between moral persons, and therefore the lower animals are not susceptible of the moral obligations we owe one another, but we owe a sevenfold obligation to the Creator of those animals. Our obligation and moral duty is to Him who made them; and if we wish to know the limit and the broad outline of our obligation, I say at once it is His nature and His per fections, and among these perfections one is, most profoundly, that of eternal mercy. And therefore although a poor mule or a poor horse is not, indeed, a moral person, yet the Lord and Maker of the mule is the highest lawgiver, and His nature is a law unto Himself. And in giving a dominion over His creatures to man, He gave it subject to the condition that it should be used in conformity to His perfections, which is His own law, and therefore our law.” (Zoophilist, April I, 1887.)

This striking declaration covers much of the ground we have already traversed, but I want specially to emphasize theCardinal’s point, that creation is not a mere arbitrary act of God, a superfluous exercise of His power as it were, but the reflection of His nature, so that if mercy and consideration are part of God’s nature and the norm of His activity, so should they be of ours.

CRUELTY IS SINFUL

For Catholics there is another incentive to work for animal welfare and the eradication of cruelty, in the knowledge that wanton cruelty to animals is sinful and degrading.

Two other answers of the Holy Office run as follows :

“Does the Holy Office hold it to be sinful to torture dumb animals?” “YES.”

“Does the Holy Office hold such sins to be degrading to the soul and disposition of the tormentor?” “YES.”

And so, even if animals are non-moral beings, they enter the sphere of morality if they become the instruments or occasions of sin. We may insist there-fore that anyone who has dealings with animals is bound by certain moral obligations, binding under sin, to treat them according to the purpose of the Creator.

And so a powerful secondary motive to work for the repression of cruelty is the realization that cruelty is an irrational and ugly thing, whereas, on the contrary, “he who shows pity to animals is more disposed to exercise the same feeling towards his fellow man.” So St Thomas, cited by the late Prior Kuypers, who also quotes Bishop Vaughan, “Of all the motives to persuade men to practise kindness and consideration to the lower animals, a due regard to their own character is surely one of the strongest.”

Much cruelty is of course mere thoughtlessness and want of a sense of responsibility. All the more reason to begin with the young and inculcate consideration for animals during the formative years.

FAITHFUL SERVICE DESERVES GRATITUDE

Again there is a sense in which we owe and may pay “gratitude” to dumb animals for faithful service. Not in the same sense in which we express gratitude towards persons endowed with soul and reason, if you like, but real gratitude nevertheless; gratitude for constant affection, for faithful allegiance, for the saving of life and property. It is a deep-rooted and worthy human instinct to wish to make some return for a favour received. I say, human; but doubtless any-one could give many instances where animals have shown gratitude for some service done to them. I remember, at Westgate many years ago, I was able to direct a fine collie dog that had been trapped by the tide on the beach, to a sloping groyne near by, up which he was able to make his escape. He was not my dog, but he found my home, and ran upstairs to my room, and I had some difficulty in persuading him to return to his proper owners.

One reason why we treasure the companionship of animals is because they are not critical, as human beings sometimes are; nor selfish, avoiding us in our bad moods, just when we look for friendship. Rather they seem to sense our need and feel sensitively with us. It would be a poor return to treat them cruelly, or to allow them to be so treated by others when we have power to prevent it.

CONSIDERATION FOR ANIMALS SHOWN BY OUR LORD

I have mentioned how our blessed Lord expresses the providence of His Father for the animals He created. Let me add to it that when St Mark records the temptation in the wilderness (Mk. 1 : 13) he (alone) adds that Our Lord was with the beasts, not before the Temptation, as if the presence of the beasts was one of the horrors of the wilderness, but AFTER, as if the beasts came with the angels to comfort and congratulate our Lord on His victory. We are reminded of Isaias 11: 6, “The wolf shall dwell with the lamb; and the leopard shall lie down with the kid. The calf and the lion and the sheep shall abide together; and a little child shall lead them.” The Saints, as we shall see, also taught beasts to resume their original gentleness towards mankind.

I like also to remember that Our Lord, when He rode into Jerusalem in triumph, fulfilled the prophecy of Isaias (62 : 11) by riding in “Meek, and sitting upon an ass and a colt, the foal of her that is used to the yoke” (Mt. 21 : 5) and the tradition is abroad to this day that therefore the back and shoulders of the ass are marked with the sign of the Cross.

If our ambition is to be able to say with St Paul, “I live, now not I; but Christ liveth in me” (Gal. 2 : 20), consideration for animals will be one sign of the indwelling Christ.

THE DECLARATION OF POPES

The list of Popes who have directly or indirectly blessed work for animal welfare includes Paul II (1464–71), Pius

V (1566–72), Pius IX, Leo XIII, Pius X, Benedict XV, Pius XI and the present Holy Father.

In 1950 Pius XII made this important statement:

“The animal world, as all creation, is a manifestation of God’s power, His wisdom and His goodness, and as such deserves man” s respect and consideration. Any reckless desire to kill off animals, all unnecessary harshness and callous cruelty towards them are to be condemned. Such conduct, moreover, is baneful to a healthy sentiment and only tends to brutalize it.

“This said, one will also recognize that the Creator has given the animal to serve man (Gen. 1: 28), who because of his intelligence is essentially superior to the entire animal world.”

The Holy Father reiterated his statement in an Address in November, 1957: “The Catholic Church strives to influence individuals and public opinion to ensure the acceptance of these principles and their legal protection in daily life!”

Of Cardinals I have mentioned Cardinal Manning and Cardinal Bourne in this country. Cardinal Newman noted, “Cruelty to animals is as if we did not love God.” Cardinal Gibbons may be added for the United States, Cardinal Donnet for France, and Cardinals Gasparri and Merry del Val for Rome. And the replies of the Holy Office are an authority of the first order.

There is not, I think, any necessity to labour the point that the highest Catholic officials have frequently and emphatically expressed themselves in favour of work for animal welfare, and no high official has delivered an opinion in the contrary sense.

THE EXAMPLE SET BY SAINTS

The pleasant history of the happy relations between animals and holy men of God may be introduced by a quotation from Lecky. He says of the literary output of the Monasteries in the Middle Ages, “it represents one of the most striking efforts made in Christendom to inculcate a feeling of kindness and pity towards the brute creation” (H. E. Morals, II, 161). This is not surprising when we read that the Founder of Western Monasticism made friends with the wild life near his monastery. In this connection Abbot Tosti, his learned biographer, writes as follows (1896): “Men like St Benedict, always intent on the love of the Creator, could not withhold their love from the things He had created. Hence they felt themselves bound by the bonds of fraternal love with everything in God’s universe. On the other hand, the irrational animals, by divine ordination, often gave their services to these holy men, who, in the desert, far from human society, committed their lives into the hands of God alone. Wherefore, though defenceless and solitary, they never died from the violence of wild beasts; indeed, we find in the lives of the Fathers of the Desert, a crow bringing bread to St Paul (the first Hermit), and two lions coming forth from the depths of the solitude, to dig a grave for St Antony. And in this outpouring of love for all irrational creatures St Francis called the birds his brethren and even the wolf his brother.

“The love therefore of holy men for the irrational creatures is a consequence of that which they have for God, who called them out of nothing and preserves them in life. Indeed in the lyric outpouring of the mind to the Lord in Ps. 168, David praises Him for His creative omnipotence, and calls upon not only men, but even the beasts to join him in his song, and he gives the reason: “For He Himself spoke and they were made: He commanded and they were created.” Add to this, in the last place, that the sin of the first man, as it separated him by rebellion from God, so did it separate from himself, by rebellion, the irrational animals, which were subject to God. (N.B.-Hence God’s reassurance that He would command animals not to take human life. Gen. 9:5.) Those men, who by special penance and purity have turned again to God, have frequently, by extraordinary divine permission, acquired again their empire over beasts; and these, rendered mild by the virtue of the saints, have returned to their former subjection.” (Life, p. 66.)

One may add, that if the saints so loved animals as God’s creatures, it follows that the nearer we are to God and sanctity, the more we will imitate them in this love, and contrariwise, the further we are away, the more it will appear in this characteristic also.

Finally, one may sometimes observe a fierce watch-dog allowing a tiny child to pull its ears or put a finger into its mouth, as if it recognized in the innocence of the child some link with the golden age and a long forgotten world.

ANIMALS ARE GOD’S GIFT TO MAN

To conclude: “every good and every perfect gift is from above.” God who made the animals gave them to us for our service and for companionship. I like to recall the sturdy peasant life among the Basques in the Landes country beyond Bordeaux, where St Vincent de Paul was born, and in whose house a window in the living room could be opened, and there, beyond, would be the oxen who pulled the plough, sharing the same roof as their masters, companions, and not mere beasts of burden. All our duty towards animals is summed up in five words, “God lends them to us.” And Cardinal Newman indicates how they may help even our spiritual life. “Think then,” he says, “of your feelings at cruelty practised upon brute animals, and you will gain one sort of feeling which the history of Christ’s Cross and Passion ought to excite within you. And let me add, this is in all cases one good use to which you may turn any accounts you read of wanton and unfeeling acts shown towards the inferior animals; let them remind you, as a picture, of Christ’s sufferings. He who is higher than the Angels, deigned to humble Himself even to the state of the brute creation, as the Psalm says, “I am a worm and no man; a very scorn of men and the outcast of the people.”” (Ps. 21: 7.)

I hope I have said enough to show that kindness towards animals is the tradition of Scripture and the Catholic Theologians, of Popes and Cardinals, of Saints and Religious Orders, that it is in accordance with logic and principle, and that it stands for not sentiment merely, but also what the late Archbishop Downey called “Reason and Social Sanity.”

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Daily Devotions To Saint Joseph

BY ST. ALPHONSUS LIGUORI ADAPTED BY HUGH J. O’CONNELL,C.SS.R

INDEX

These short but fervent devotions to St. Joseph, arranged for each day in the month have been taken from the writings of St. Alphonsus Liguori. Every line bears testimony to the respect, confidence and love which St. Alphonsus felt for the foster father of Jesus.

PRAYER FOR EACH DAY

(Read the reflection proper to the day and then close each day with the follow prayer:)

Most holy patriarch, St. Joseph, I rejoice at the great dignity to which thou hast been raised in being made foster father of the Son of God, endowed with authority to command Him Whom heaven and earth obey.

My holy patron, since Jesus Himself respected and served thee as His father, I, too, wish to enrol myself in thy service. I choose thee, after Mary, for my principal advocate and protector. I promise to honour thee every day with some special devotion, and each day I will place myself under thy protection.

As thou didst enjoy the sweet company of Jesus and Mary during thy life on earth, grant that I may ever live close to them and never be separated from God by losing His grace. And as thou wert assisted by Jesus and Mary at the hour of thy death, so grant me protection at the hour of my death, that, dying in thy presence and that of Jesus and Mary, I may one day go to thank thee in paradise, and in thy company praise and love God for all eternity. Amen.

*St. Joseph, patron of the universal Church, protect us. Protect our Holy Father, the Pope, and our Mother, Holy Church.

FIRST DAY

God, because of the great love He bears us, and His great desire to see us saved, has given us among other means of salvation the practice of devotion to the saints. It is His will that they, who are His friends, should intercede for us, and by their merits and prayers obtain graces for us which we ourselves do not deserve.

But everyone must know that, after the Mother of God, St. Joseph is, of all the saints, the one dearest to God. He has, therefore, great power with Him and can obtain graces for His devout clients. Let us then frequently say: *St. Joseph, give me the greatest confidence in thy powerful intercession.

SECOND DAY

We should, indeed, honour St. Joseph, since the Son of God Himself was graciously pleased to honour him by calling him father. “Christ,” says Origen, “gave to Joseph the honour due to a parent.” The Holy Scriptures speak of him as the father of Jesus. “His father and mother were marvelling at the things spoken concerning Him” (Luke 2:33). Mary also used this name: “in sorrow thy father and I have been seeking thee” (Luke 2:48). If, then, the King of Kings was pleased to raise Joseph to so high a dignity, it is right and obligatory on our part to endeavour to honour him as much as we can.

*St. Joseph, I consecrate myself to thy service forever. Protect me all the days of my life.

THIRD DAY

The example of Jesus Christ, Who wished to honour St. Joseph so much, and to be subject to him on earth, ought to inflame all with a fervent devotion toward this great saint. Since the Eternal Father shared His own authority with St. Joseph, Jesus always regarded him as a father, and respected and obeyed him for thirty years. St. Luke says He “was subject to them” (Luke 2:51). These words mean that during all this time the sole occupation of the Redeemer was to obey Mary and Joseph. To St. Joseph, as head of the little family, belonged the office of commanding, and to Jesus as a subject, the duty of obedience. Hence, a learned author has justly said: “Men should pay great honour to him whom the King of Kings wished to raise to such a height.”

*St. Joseph, by the obedience which Jesus rendered to thee, make me always obedient to the will of God.

FOURTH DAY

St. Bernardine of Siena says that we should be persuaded that Our Lord, Who respected St. Joseph on earth as His father, will refuse Him nothing in heaven; but on the contrary, will most abundantly grant His petitions. Jesus Himself advised St. Margaret of Cortona to cherish a special devotion to St. Joseph, and never to allow a day to pass without rendering some homage to him as His foster father. Let us not, then, fail to recommend ourselves each day to St. Joseph and to ask him for graces.

*St. Joseph, make me faithful in invoking you daily.

FIFTH DAY

All the faithful should be devoted to St. Joseph in order to obtain the grace of a good death, and this for three reasons. 1. Because Jesus Christ loved him not only as a friend, but as a father, and, therefore, his intercession is more power ful than that of the other saints. 2. Because Our Lord, in return for having saved Him from Herod, has given St. Joseph the special privilege of protecting the dying against the snares of the devil. 3. Because St. Joseph, who died in the company of Jesus and Mary, is the model of a holy death and can obtain this grace for his clients.

*St. Joseph, obtain for me that, like thee, I may die in the arms of Jesus and Mary.

SIXTH DAY

According to St. John Damascene: “God gave St. Joseph the love, the care, and the authority of a father over Jesus. He gave him the affection of a father that he might guard Him with great love; the solicitude of a father, that he might watch over Him with care; and the authority of a father that he might feel sure that he would he obeyed in all that he arranged concerning this Son.”

*St. Joseph, be always a father to us; and grant that we may be always thy faithful children.

SEVENTH DAY

When God, destines anyone for a particular office, He gives him the graces that fit him for it. Therefore, since God chose St. Joseph to fill the office of father over the person of the Incarnate Word, we must certainly believe that he conferred upon him all the sanctity which belonged to such an office. Gerson says that among other privileges Joseph had three which were special to him.1. That he was sanctified in his mother’s womb, as were Jeremias and St. John the Baptist. 2. That he was at the same time confirmed in grace. 3. That he was always exempt from the inclinations of concupiscence-a privilege with which St. Joseph by the merit of his purity, favours his devout clients by delivering them from carnal appetites.

*St. Joseph, shining light of chastity, preserve the angelic virtue in me.

EIGHTH DAY

In the Gospels St. Joseph is called “just.” What is meant by a just man? St. Peter Chrysologus says: “It means a perfect man-one who possesses all virtues.” Joseph was already holy before his marriage; but how much must his sanctity have increased after his union with the Blessed Virgin? The example of his holy spouse sufficed to sanctify him; and since Mary is the dispenser of all the graces which God grants to men, in what profusion must she not have showered them down upon her spouse, who she loved so much and by whom she was so tenderly loved!

*St. Joseph, increase my devotion to Mary.

NINTH DAY

The two disciples, going to Emmaus were inflamed with divine love by the few moments which they spent in company with our Saviour, and by His words. What flames of holy love must not, then, have been enkindled in the heart of St. Joseph, who for thirty years conversed with Jesus Christ, and listened to His words of eternal life; who observed the perfect example which Jesus gave of humility and patience, and saw the promptness with which He obeyed and helped him in his labours, and all that was needed for the household!

*St. Joseph, inflame us with the love of Jesus.

TENTH DAY

St. Paul writes that in the next life Jesus Christ “will render to every man according to His works” (Rom. 2:6). What great glory must we not suppose that He has bestowed upon St. Joseph, who served and loved Him so much while He lived on earth! Our Lord has promised a reward to him who gives a cup of cold water to the poor in His name. What, then, must be the reward of St. Joseph, who can say to Jesus Christ: “I not only provided Thee with food, with a dwelling, and with clothes, but I saved Thee from death, delivering Thee from the hands of Herod.”

*St. Joseph, increase our zeal for growing in holiness by the hope of eternal reward.

ELEVENTH DAY

We must believe that the life of St. Joseph, spent in the presence of Jesus and Mary, was a continual prayer, abounding in acts of faith, confidence, love, resignation, and oblation. Since, then, the reward of the saints corresponds to their merits during life, consider how great must be the glory of St. Joseph in heaven. St. Augustine compares the other saints to the stars, but St. Joseph to the sun.

It is, then, very reasonable to suppose that St. Joseph, after Mary, surpasses all the other saints in merit and glory. The Venerable Bernardine de Bustis says that when St. Joseph asks any grace for those who are devoted to him, his prayers have in a certain manner the force of a command with Jesus and Mary.

*St. Joseph, obtain for us a great spirit of prayer.

TWELFTH DAY

To prove the power which St. Joseph possesses in paradise, St. Bernardine of Siena writes thus: “We cannot doubt that Christ accords to St. Joseph, now that he is in heaven, even more perfectly the respect and reverence which He paid to him on earth. Our Lord, Who on earth revered St. Joseph as His father, will certainly deny him nothing that he asks in heaven.” Let us then say to him with confidence:

*St. Joseph, powerful protector of souls, keep us from all sin.

THIRTEENTH DAY

O great St. Joseph, since God has served thou, I also wish to enroll myself in thy service. I wish henceforth to serve thee, to honour and love thee. Take me under thy protection and dispose of me as thou pleasest. My holy St. Joseph, pray to Jesus for me. Having obeyed all thy commands on earth, He will certainly never refuse anything thou ask of Him. Tell Him to pardon me the offences that I have committed against Him. Tell Him to detach me from creatures and from myself. Ask Him to inflame me with His holy love.

*St. Joseph, watch over us, thy children.

FOURTEENTH DAY

Most holy patriarch, now that you are on a lofty throne in heaven near thy beloved Jesus, Who was subject to thee on earth, have pity on me, who am exposed to the attacks of so many enemies, to the evil spirits, and the passions that continually strive to rob me of the grace of God. Through the grace given to thee on earth of enjoying the continual society of Jesus and Mary, obtain for me the grace of living during the remaining days of my life united to God, by resisting the attacks of hell. Grant, too, that I may die with the love of Jesus and Mary in my heart so that I may be able one day to enjoy with thee, their company in the kingdom of heaven.

*St. Joseph, grant me a horror of sin and the grace to conquer my passions.

FIFTEENTH DAY

St. Bernard, speaking of St. Joseph’s power of dispensing graces to his devout servants, makes use of the following remarkable words: “To some of the saints power is granted to succour us in particular necessities; but to St. Joseph power is granted to succour in all necessities, and to defend all those who, with devotion, have recourse to him.” Let us then often say to him:

*St. Joseph, help us when we are in need.

SIXTEENTH DAY

St. Teresa says: “I do not remember to have asked any favour from St. Joseph which he did not grant. An account of the many graces which God has bestowed upon me, and of the dangers, corporal and spiritual, from which He has delivered me through this saint would excite wonder. The Lord appears to have given power to the other saints to assist us in a single necessity; but experience shows that St. Joseph gives aid in all. The Lord gives us to understand that, as He was to be subject to St. Joseph on earth, so in heaven He does whatever the saint asks.”

*St. Joseph, obtain for me the grace of perseverance in prayer.

SEVENTEENTH DAY

St. Teresa also writes: “I would wish to persuade all the world to be devoted to St. Joseph, because I have long experience of the great favours which he obtains from God. I have never known any soul especially devoted to him that did not always advance in virtue. I ask, for God’s sake, that they who do not believe me will at least make a trial of this devotion. I cannot believe that favours are not granted to St. Joseph in return for the help which he gave on earth to Jesus and Mary.”

*St. Joseph, patron of the interior life, lead me to that perfection which God requires of me.

EIGHTEENTH DAY

Let us ask St. Joseph for the grace to love our Lord Jesus Christ. This is the particular grace which St. Joseph obtains for those who are devout to him-a tender love toward the Incarnate Word. The saint merited the power to bestow this grace upon his servants by the great love which he himself bore toward Jesus while he lived on earth.

*St. Joseph, make me love Jesus with all my heart.

NINETEENTH DAY

When Jesus lived in this world in the house of St. Joseph, could a sinner who desired to obtain forgiveness from Our Lord have found a more efficacious means of obtaining pardon than through St. Joseph? If, then, we desire to receive the forgiveness of our sins, let us have recourse to St. Joseph who, now that he is in heaven, is more loved by Jesus Christ than he was loved by Him on earth.

*St. Joseph, obtain from Jesus the pardon of my sins.

TWENTIETH DAY

“And Joseph also went from Galilee out of the town of Nazareth into Judea to the town of David, which is called Bethlehem” (Luke 2:4). In response to the decree of Caesar Augustus, St. Joseph made the long journey across the hills from Galilee to Bethlehem with Mary, who bore beneath her heart the Incarnate Son of God. What sweet conversations must Mary and Joseph have held on this journey on the mercy of God in sending His Son into the world to redeem the human race, and on the love of this Son in coming into this valley of tears in order to atone by His suffering and death for the sins of men!

*St. Joseph, I wish to belong entirely to thee, so that through thee I may belong entirely to Jesus and Mary.

TWENTY-FIRST DAY

“And it came to pass while they were there, that the days for her to be delivered were fulfilled. And she brought forth her firstborn son, and wrapped him in swaddling clothes, and laid him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn” (Luke 2:6–7). How great must have been the sorrow of St. Joseph when he could find no shelter for Mary on the night of the birth of the Divine Word, and was obliged to bring her to a stable! How his heart must have been pierced with anguish to see his holy spouse, who was pregnant, and near the time of childbirth, trembling with cold in that damp cave, which was open on every side. Dear St. Joseph, through the pain which you felt in seeing the Divine Word born in a stable, so poor, without fire, without clothes,, and in hearing the cries caused by the cold which afflicted Him, I pray thee to obtain for me a true sorrow for my sins by which I have drawn tears from Jesus.

*St. Joseph, penetrate my heart with contrition and obtain for me the grace never to sin again.

TWENTY-SECOND DAY

“And she brought forth her firstborn son, and wrapped him in swaddling clothes, and laid him in a manger” (Luke 2:7). How great must have been the joy of St. Joseph when he heard Mary calling him and saying “Joseph, come, and adore our infant God, Who is just born in this cave. Behold how beautiful He is. Look at the King of the world in this manger, on this straw. See how He, Who makes the seraphs burn with love, trembles with cold. Behold how He Who is the joy of paradise weeps!” Dear St. Joseph, through the joy which you received at the first sight of the infant Jesus in the crib, so beautiful and lovely that your heart began from that moment to beat with love for Him alone, obtain for me also the grace to love Jesus with an ardent love on earth so that I may one day go to enjoy Him in heaven.

*St. Joseph, share with me a little of the burning love that thou didst bear to Jesus.

TWENTY-THIRD DAY

“Glory to God in the highest and on earth peace among men of good will” (Luke 2:14). Consider how great was the love and tenderness of St. Joseph when he beheld with his own eyes the Son of God become an infant; when he heard the angels singing around their newborn Lord, and saw the stable filled with light. Kneeling down and weeping with love and compassion, Joseph said: “I adore Thee, yes I adore Thee, my Lord and my God. How great is my happiness to be the first, after Mary, to see Thee born, and to know that in this world Thou wishest to be called and reputed my Son! Allow me, then, also to call Thee my Son, and to say: My God and my Son, to Thee I consecrate my whole being. My life shall be no longer mine, but shall be Thine without reserve!”

*St. Joseph, grant that I may spend my life, like thee, in the service of God.

TWENTY-FOURTH DAY

“An angel of the Lord appeared in a dream to Joseph, saying, ‘Arise, and take the child and His mother and flee into Egypt’” (Matt. 2:13). Consider the ready obedience of St. Joseph, who raised no doubts about the time of the journey, nor about the manner of travelling, nor about the place in Egypt in which they were to stay, but immediately prepared to set out. He instantly makes known to Mary the command of the angel, and on the same night sets out without guide on a journey of 400 miles through mountains, across rugged roads and deserts.

*My holy protector, obtain for me the grace of perfect obedience to the divine will.

TWENTY-FIFTH DAY

How much St. Joseph must have suffered on the journey into Egypt in seeing the sufferings of Jesus and Mary! Their food must have been a piece of hard bread. They could have slept only in some poor hut, or in the open air. Joseph was indeed conformed in all things to the will of the Eternal Father, but his tender and loving heart could not but feel pain in seeing the Son of God trembling and weeping from cold and the other hardships which He experienced.

*St. Joseph. obtain for me the grace that in my journey to eternity I may never lose the company of Jesus and Mary.

TWENTY-SIXTH DAY

“The boy Jesus remained in Jerusalem, and his parents did not know it” (Luke 2:43). How great was the pain of St. Joseph when Jesus was lost in the temple! Joseph was accustomed to the enjoyment of the sweet presence of his beloved Saviour. What, then, must have been his sorrow when he was deprived of it for three days, without knowing whether he should evermore find Jesus, and most painful of all, without knowing why he had lost Him. How great, on the other hand, was Joseph’s joy when he found Jesus and realized that the absence of the Child did not arise from any neglect on his part, but from a zeal for the glory of the Father.

*St. Joseph, through the merits of the pains which thou didst suffer at losing Jesus, obtain for me tears to weep always for my sins.

TWENTY-SEVENTH DAY

“He went down with them and came to Nazareth, and was subject to them” (Luke 2:51). Reflect on the holy life which Joseph led in the company of Jesus and Mary. In that family there was no business except that which tended to the greater glory of God; there were no thoughts or desires except the thought and desire of pleasing God; there were no discourses except on the love which men owe to God, and which God has shown to men, especially in sending His only begotten Son into the world to suffer and to end His life in a sea of sorrows and insults for the salvation of mankind.

*St. Joseph, through the tears which thou didst shed in contemplating the future passion of Jesus, obtain for me a continual remembrance of the suffering of my Redeemer.

TWENTY-EIGHTH DAY

Consider the love which St. Joseph bore to Mary, his holy spouse. She was the most beautiful of all women. She was more humble, more meek, more pure, more obedient, more inflamed with the love of God, than all the angels and than all men that have been or shall be created. Hence, she merited all his love. Add to this his realization of the love that she bore for him, and the fact that God had chosen her as His beloved Mother.

*St. Joseph, obtain for me a great love for Mary, thy most holy spouse.

TWENTY-NINTH DAY

Consider the love which Joseph bore to Jesus. This love was not purely human like the love of other fathers, but superhuman; for he loved Jesus not only as his son but also as his God. Joseph knew from the angel that his child was the Divine Word Who had become man to save mankind. He realized, too, that he himself had been chosen from among all men to be the protector and guardian of this divine Infant. What a flame of holy love must, then, have been enkindled in the heart of Joseph by reflecting on all these things, and by the sight of his Lord obeying him like a little boy, opening and closing the door, helping him to saw or to plane, gathering fragments of wood, or sweeping the house!

*St. Joseph, remove from my heart all that could be an obstacle to the love of God.

THIRTIETH DAY

“Precious in the eyes of the Lord is the death of His faithful ones” (Ps. 115:6). After having faithfully served Jesus and Mary, St. Joseph reached the end of his life in the house at Nazareth. There, surrounded by angels, assisted by Jesus Christ the King of angels, and by Mary, his spouse, who placed themselves at each side of his poor bed, filled with the peace of paradise, he departed from this miserable life. Who shall ever be able to understand the sweetness, the consolation, the blessed hope, the acts of resignation, the flames of charity which the words of eternal life coming alternately from the lips of Jesus and Mary, breathed into the soul of Joseph at the end of his life?

*St. Joseph, grant me peace and resignation to God’s will at the hour of my death.

THIRTY-FIRST DAY

Great, indeed, will be the comfort of those, who, at the hour of death shall be protected by St. Joseph. For this great saint has received from God power to command the devils and to drive them away, less they tempt his servants in their dying moments. Happy is the soul that shall be assisted by this great advocate, who, on account of having died with the assistance of Jesus and Mary, and because of having preserved the infant Jesus from the danger of death by his flight into Egypt, has received the privilege of being the patron of a good death, and of delivering his clients from the danger of eternal death.

*St. Joseph, defend me from the attacks of the devils at the last moment of my life.

LITANY OF ST. JOSEPH

Lord, have mercy on us.

Christ, have mercy on us.

Lord, have mercy on us.

Christ, hear us.

Christ, graciously hear us.

God the Father of Heaven, Have mercy on us God the Son, Redeemer of the world, etc. God the Holy Ghost,

Holy Trinity, One God,

Holy Mary, Pray for us

St. Joseph, Pray for us

Illustrious Son of David, etc.

Light of Patriarchs,

Spouse of the Mother of God,

Chaste guardian of the Virgin,

Foster father of the Son of God,

Diligent protector of Christ,

Head of the Holy Family,

Joseph most just,

Joseph most chaste,

Joseph most prudent,

Joseph most valiant,

Joseph most obedient, Pray for us

Joseph most faithful, etc.

Mirror of patience,

Lover of poverty,

Model of artisans,

Glory of home life,

Guardian of virgins,

Pillar of families,

Solace of the wretched, Hope of the sick,

Patron of the dying,

Terror of demons,

Protector of Holy Church.

Lamb of God, Who takest away the sins of the world, Spare us, O Lord! Lamb of God, Who takest away the sins of the world, Graciously hear us, O Lord! Lamb of God, Who takest away the sins of the world, have mercy on us.

He made him the lord of His household. And prince over all His possessions.

Let us pray.

O God, in Thine ineffable providence Thou wert pleased to choose Blessed Joseph to be the spouse of Thy most holy Mother; grant, we beseech Thee, that we may be worthy to have him for our intercessor in heaven whom on earth we venerate as our Protector. Who livest and reignest, world without end.

Amen.

PRAYER TO ST. JOSEPH

O St. Joseph, whose protection is so great, so strong, so prompt before the throne of God, I place in thee all my interest and desires. O St. Joseph, do assist me by thy powerful intercession, and obtain for me from thy divine Son all spiritual blessings, through Jesus Christ, our Lord. So that, having engaged here below thy heavenly power, I may offer my thanksgiving and homage to the most loving of Fathers. O St. Joseph, I never weary contemplating thee, and Jesus asleep in thine arms; I dare not approach while He reposes near thy heart. Press Him in my name and kiss His fine head for me; and ask Him to return the Kiss when I draw my dying breath. St. Joseph, Patron of departing souls, Pray for me. Amen.

(This prayer was found in the fiftieth year of Our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. In 1505 it was sent from the Pope to Emperor Charles when he was going into battle. Whoever shall read this prayer or hear it or keep it about themselves, shall never die a sudden death, or be drowned, or shall poison take effect on them; neither shall they fall into the hands of the enemy, or shall be burned in any fire or shall be overpowered in battle.

Say for nine mornings for anything you may desire. It has never been known to fail, so be sure you really want what you ask.)

IMPRIMI POTENT:

John N. McCormick, C.SS.R. Provincial, St. Louis Province, Redemptorist Fathers

May 1, 1962

IMPRIMATUR:

St. Louis, May 4, 1962 Joseph Cardinal Ritter Archbishop of St. Louis

********

Daily Mass

BY EUSTACE BOYLAN, S.J

INDEX

I

EASY AND CONSOLING

To assist at Daily Mass is a practice that is both easy and consoling.

Yes, easy. Don’t run away with the idea that the task is only for saints and is quite beyond you. It is nothing of the kind. It is easy. Perhaps not at first; but soon, very soon, it becomes a high and holy pleasure.

What? -you will say-easy? Easy to get up earlier in the morning to go off to church? Yes. Undoubtedly the difficulty that people raise about early rising is all Imaginary. No matter what hour you may get up at, there is some difficulty in getting out of bed; yet you do get up, say, round about 70’clock, because if you remain longer in bed you will not be able to get your breakfast before you go to your business, or you will be late for your business, and soon get to know about it from your employer. Therefore, through a kind of compulsion you get up at an hour that allows you time to reach your place of business at the appointed hour.

Now, the whole question of getting up an hour earlier is not one of added difficulty, but is merely a question of practical arrangement. How much sleep do you require? Let us say eight hours, which is a good night’s rest. Therefore, the obvious arrangement is to go to bed in time overnight. If you are in bed at 10 o’clock you can have your eight hours’ rest completed when the alarm clock goes off round about 6 o’clock. The moment, therefore, you begin to examine into the arguments against early rising, you see that they are based on purely imaginary difficulties. It is no whit more difficult to get up at six than it is at seven if you have gone to bed overnight at an hour which allows you to have the required amount of sleep. Most people dawdle aimlessly at night before retiring to rest. If they have a beautiful task to perform in the morning, such as going out to Mass, they will get off to bed with a pleasing sense of the happy experience ahead of them, abounding in consolation.

It is frequently said that people are rather cross and snappy in the morning before their breakfast. This, perhaps, applies especially to men during the operation of shaving, but it has its application to all the members of the family-at least according to a rather common belief. Many people are not in the right frame of mind until they have had their morning meal, with a bracing cup of tea or coffee. Before that they may be quite unbearable.

Not so with the person who goes out to early Mass. He is already braced up; he has taken the best of all tonics; he has had a little exercise in the fresh morning air, and has brushed off all the cobwebs from his brain and his temper, and goes back to breakfast not only with a raging appetite denied to the more sluggish members of the family, but with a light and springy step, a contented heart, and a bright light in his happy eyes. To regain his good temper and pleasant disposition he is not depending on the stimulus of a warm breakfast-(he will enjoy his breakfast, of course, more than the others)~ but he has already had his stimulating experience from the grace of God and the feeling that he has begun the day well. He has an advantage over all the other members of the family who have been staying in bed till the last possible moment and who, when he returns from the Holy Sacrifice, are still perhaps in a bad humour.

Perhaps one of the reasons why people are a little snappy before breakfast is because they have before them the tasks of the day, which are often uncongenial; and, the machinery of life moving slow at that early hour, they look forward in a gloomy way to the undertakings that lie before them. Not so with the boy or girl who has commenced the day with this superb experience of assisting at the Holy Sacrifice. For them, “God’s in His heaven, all’s right with the world.” The sun will shine brighter for those who have assisted at the Holy Sacrifice, the sky will be of a deeper blue, the little trivialities of daily life will be gilded with the love and beauty of God Himself. And so I say again that assistance at daily Mass is not a difficult undertaking. it is easy, and if you think it is difficult, it is because you have not sufficient experience of it.

It must be conceded, of course, that the beginnings of nearly all new tasks present some difficulties, which disappear only with practice. Anyone playing a game in which he has had no previous experience will have sore muscles; a person taking exercise in riding a horse will be terribly saddle-sore for the first day or so; and early exercises of piano playing or typewriting are difficult, for the simple reason that there is an initial reluctance from the unexercised faculties. But once habit has been established through a certain amount of familiarity with the new task, all the initial difficulty vanishes and a pleasurable sensation accompanies the task.

Even so it is with attendance at daily Mass. We may concede that, through the force of custom, helped by a vivid imagination, there is some difficulty in getting up before the rest of the family are thinking of stirring. But once those difficulties are overcome with a little practice, they are found to have been of a purely imaginary order. Those who go out every morning to assist at daily Mass will tell you that the day is incomplete without it, and that they would not miss it for anything. And so to assist at daily Mass is a practice that is really easy, and at the same time consoling- consoling for the reasons already given, and from the fact that it makes you feel that you have done something worth while, that you have begun the day well, that you have put some meaning into life, and that the commonplace facts of existence will have for you a higher significance and. deeper consolation than they have for those who are blind to the treasures within their reach and are neglecting priceless opportunities.

II

A TREASURE BEYOND PRICE

All the treasures of gold and precious stones that the earth contains are outweighed by one Mass. “If thou didst know the Gift of God! Those words, deep in meaning, were addressed by Our Lord to the Samaritan

Woman beside the Well of Jacob. And they are addressed to us all; and they might fittingly be inserted over every altar where the Holy Sacrifice is offered daily.

“If you only knew!” No doubt you do know in a kind of way. You can form the judgment, truly but superficially, that there is no gift within our reach comparable to the Holy Sacrifice. Yes, but are you -sure? Is your conviction more than skin deep? Does it penetrate into those inner depths of the mind from which action originates? Or are you like the talking parrot who, under instruction, might repeat again and again the words, “This is the Gift of gifts,” without attaching any meaning to the utterance? Please, consider the matter a little.

All the good gifts of Time and Eternity come from the hand of God. Gold and precious stones come out of His treasury, and to a limited extent they may be sometimes within our reach. But vast numbers of gifts are always within our reach; they are poured out upon us all in a stream that never stops flowing. The rose and the violet, the birds and the butterflies, the sunlight and moonlight and the mystery of the stars, the pageant of the seasons, the music of dawn, the panorama of mountain, valley and sea-these and all the beautiful and varied furniture of the visible universe are common property and should be received from the hand of God with humble thanks. These and the deeper gifts of human companionship, sympathy, friendship, and love all come from God, and in such an unending stream that we too often take them as our due and forget to offer to the Givera humble and hearty “thank You.” We are like the spoilt child who takes for granted the gifts that are lavished on him and receives them without real gratitude.

“Men,” said Oscar Wilde, “do not value the sunsets because they have not to pay for them.” A t hought in which there is an amount of truth. But there is a deeper philosophy in the saying of Chesterton: We ought to pay for them, and we can pay for them “by not living like Oscar Wilde.” We can pay for them by a life in harmony with the will of our Father. And Chesterton goes on to say that a man might well make a pilgrimage to see the cowslips, or qualify himself by a forty days’ fast to hear the blackbird sing. A rich and beautiful thought. In no way have we deserved any. of these exquisite gifts, and so we ought surely to receive them with humble and thankful hearts.

Well, all these varied gifts come out of God’s treasury without making any ap preciable inroad on the good things at the disposal of Omnipotence. All these gifts of nature and the whole mighty universe itself, when measured with Omnipotence may be regarded as “unconsidered trifles.” They are produced and distributed by the great Giver of gifts with effortless ease. “They are but a whisper of His ways.”

But there is one Gift that is not an “unconsidered trifle.” There is one Gift that-to speak in a human way-was not bestowed with effortless ease: it taxed- to speak again in a quite human and inadequate way-the resources of Infinite Power and Wisdom: God went the limit: usque ad finem, as John the Evangelist says-unto the end. In the Incarnation He gave us Himself. That is His supreme Gift.

All the various natural gifts which He showers on His children -(so often, alas, thoughtless and thankless)-could be bettered or multiplied by Him, and they make no drain on the limitless resources of His treasury; but it is otherwise with the Gift of gifts-the Sacred Humanity, Of that He can truly say: “What more could I give you? What more could I do that I have not done?”

Attend, 0 reader. Let us lay aside our superficial thinking and our parrot-like affirmations and try to grasp this profound truth. Or, rather, let us turn earnestly to the Holy Ghost, the Giver of Wisdom, and say from our hearts: “Holy Spirit of God, make me feel this.”

Now, the Blessed Sacrament is the continuation in our midst of the Incarnation. When the Mass bell tinkles at the Consecration we are once more at the stable of Bethlehem. Like the Shepherds we are present at the bestowal of God’s supreme Gift. We are truly among the privileged few who accepted the invitation.

To end, therefore, where I began this section, do you not see, or rather, do you not feel, that all the treasures of gold and precious stones that the earth contains, yes, and all the other natural gifts which we have considered, are outweighed by one Mass?

III

LIGHT AND STRENGTH

By Daily Mass your understanding will be enlightened and your will strengthened.

The two great faculties given to us to work out our eternal destiny are the Understanding and the Will. On the right employment of both depends the successful achievement of the great task for which we are in the world. We are here for one and only end-to fulfil the purposes of God; to honour and reverence, and serve Him for a brief time of probation here on earth, so that afterwards in eternal life we may receive our destined crown. But eternal life, with the unimaginable joys of Paradise, is too great a possession to be gained without a struggle. We must pay a price. We must work for it. It would be unreasonable to suppose that to gain such a priceless treasure we have only to sit back idly after a fruitless and wasted kind of earthly existence and then to expect to be called before the angels and archangels to receive the shining crown of eternal life. It is unreasonable to expect something for nothing. Above all, it is unreasonable to expect a priceless inheritance for nothing. Surely we must do something to earn it. We must pay a price.

In Dickens’s famous story of David Copperfield he portrays for us a very interesting character named Mr. Wilkins Micawber. This gentleman was continually “waiting for something to turn up,” and as a result of this policy he was al- ways unemployed; if he managed to secure a breakfast through the compassion of his friends he could not be sure that it would be followed later on by a dinner. This attitude towards life gets us nowhere in the world of natural effort, and is equally futile in the more important world of spiritual effort. There is no use waiting for something to turn up. We cannot fulfil the end of our existence, the mighty purposes of life, by a policy of inactivity and senseless waiting. We must earn our crown. We must make the effort by the two noble faculties given to us for the purpose-namely, our Understanding and our Will.

Now, even a limited experience of human conditions reveals to us two great facts: first, that man’s life is a warfare- as the Holy Scripture reminds us; and secondly, that both understanding and will are feeble enough in all conscience.They need support; they can only achieve good results with the help of God. “Without Me you can do nothing,” said Jesus Christ; We may be willing enough, and yet have to admit that we are often as weak as water. “The spirit indeed is willing,” said Our Lord, “but the flesh is weak. Be vigilant, therefore, and pray that you succumb not to temptation.”

As we pass through life’s experiences, our voyage is not always over level and sunshiny seas favoured with gentle breezes. We run into plenty of dirty weather; clouds are often black and threatening; gales blow, and the cataracts of the seas pour over the reeling bow of our frail vessel. Our cry may well be, like that of the disciples on the Sea of Galilee: “Save us, Lord, we perish.”

Again, even a limited experience of life shows us that we do not live in an ideal world; we do not meet angels and archangels at every street corner. On the contrary, we come into frequent contact with men and women who are anything but angels. Temptations abound and it may well be that at times both the Understanding and the Will are giving way before the pressure. High ideals are hard to maintain. Descent is easier than ascent. It is easy to give way and let the life run. To let the life run, to give up the battle, means defeat and disaster. To maintain our ground under the adverse pressure of temptation we require clear thinking and a steady exercise of the will. We need light and strength. And where can we obtain this necessary equipment? Only from God. “Without Me you can do nothing.”

Now, at no time is God more liberal with His gifts of Light and Strength than in those precious moments when He is giving the greatest of all His gifts-and that is during the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass.

Those, therefore, who often assist at the Holy Sacrifice: most of all, those who assist at it daily, are the best equipped for the battle; they are the hundred-per-centers; they are the conquerors. For, as we draw near to the Source of all Light and Strength, we are furnished with the arms we require for success in our warfare: our understanding is enlightened and our will strengthened.

IV

DAILY MASS WILL KEEP YOUR CONSCIENCE CLEAN

To keep the conscience clean is a very important matter indeed. To keep the conscience clean means to keep it continually in harmony with the purposes of God and thus to enable us to fulfil the end for which we were created. We are here on probation for a great destiny; we are on trial, in a condition of warfare not without its many dangers; and the state of our conscience is the index of the success or failure which accompanies our battle for God and our souls.

Now, as I have pointed out in the previous section, we do not live in an ideal world where angels and archangels are met at every hand’s turn. On the contrary, we live in the midst of conditions in which sin abounds. Temptation is in the air we breathe like the microbes of deadly disease. We associate with people who, to all appearance, scarcely give a thought to the claim of God. We hear plenty of irreligious talk; irreverent jests, perhaps disgustingly filthy suggestions, and we may see actions revoltingly at variance with honour and virtue. The hard and thoughtless world in which we pass so much of our time has often a spirit totally different from that which we find in a truly Christian home. It is difficult, as St. Bernard says, to pass through the world without being stained by the dust of the world. In other words, it is not easy in such circumstances to keep the conscience clean. We need, as Our Lord warned us, “to watch and pray lest we enter into temptation.” Without vigilance and prayer we easily become victims as we pass through an infected area.

It may be noted here that we must not be too severe in the judgment we pass on those acquaintances from whose minds flow sin and evil suggestions as pestilential odours rise from a filthy sewer. Perhaps these unfortunate people sin largely through ignorance; they know no better. They may have been brought up in careless homes in which the claims of the spiritual life were never honoured, and in which they were denied the opportunities given to ourselves in the midst of a Christian household backed up by the teaching in a good Christian school. And so we may say of those misguided acquaintances as Our Lord said of those who treated Him with such barbarous inhumanity: “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.”

But when this charitable allowance has been made, we have to recognise as one of the conditions of our spiritual struggle that sin abounds, temptation is in the atmosphere around us, and it is a part assigned to His faithful followers by Jesus Christ to pass through this world of infection as rays of healthy sunlight pass into a pestilential area alleviating the corruption while they themselves remain untouched by the prevailing evil. “I ask not,” said Our Lord in His exquisite prayer to His Father for His followers, “that Thou shouldst take them out of the world, but that Thou shouldst keep them from evil.”

Assistance at daily Mass is the great purifier, the great tonic for the health of the conscience. Spiritual strength and encouragement are the great bulwarks against temptation. We get that strength and encouragement when we often assist at the Holy Sacrifice. During Mass we are in contact with the great Source of all light, strength and comfort, and those gifts are bestowed on us more liberally in that great offering than at any other moment. Men whose hearts are full of spiritual comfort will not descend to sinful pleasures. He who assists often at Mass and has begun to taste the delights of a close association with God in this gracious mystery of love and wonder, will feel no leanings towards those sordid gratification’s which defile the conscience. Having tasted of the Bread of Life, they will have no hankering after “the husks the swine did eat.” The Holy Sacrifice, therefore, will keep the conscience clean. And with this healthy and happy state of the conscience will follow other precious blessings of a high order. For a clean conscience extinguishes the fires of purgatory, irradiates the death-bed with consolation, brings to the soul that peace that passeth understanding and which can only come from harmony with the purposes of God, and it increases the glory of the Crown that awaits us in eternity.

V

INTIMACY WITH JESUS CHRIST

Daily Mass will bring you into close contact with the Source of all grace. It will teach you how to live on terms of the closest intimacy with Jesus Christ.

In the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius there is a petition prefixed to each meditation on the hidden and public life of Our Lord-namely, that God may give us an intimate knowledge of Jesus Christ-cognitio intima. It is a beautiful and deeply suggestive expression. Many of those who know Our Lord do not know Him intimately. Intimate knowledge is deep-not like that of superficial acquaintanceship. To know intimately is to know not only with the mind, but with the heart. “Give me a lover,” says St. Augustine, “and he knows what I mean.” An intimate, a feeling knowledge of Jesus Christ is one of the most precious things in the spiritual life. We have an intimate knowledge of Jesus Christ when we regard Him not merely as a great and wonderful Being Who rules the Universe, but as our personal Friend, our Companion, Lover, our Ideal, our beautiful One, our Hero and our King.

This intimate knowledge, which is an inexhaustible source of consolation, may come suddenly or through a gradual growth. But to all who assist at daily Mass it comes sooner or later. And then the world is a pleasanter place than before. For being on intimate terms with the Lord and Master of the Universe, the Universe itself becomes homely and friendly.

It is no longer a topsyturvy world, but, as Chesterton found on the occasion of his conversion, “the whole world turns over and comes right.”

Intimacy with Jesus is a lovely thing, and precious beyond words. And He Himself desires this intimacy and invites us to it. “Come to Me all ye who labour and are burdened;” “I, if I be lifted up, will draw all things unto Myself.” “Suffer the little children to come to Me, and forbid them not.” Even the children He wants to gather round Him. Even the sinners: “The Son of Man has come to save them.” “I am the vine, you the branches. Abide in Me.” “Greater love than this no man hath that he give his life for his friends.” And to add one more precious bond to the intimate knowledge and love to which He invites us, He gave us His own Mother. “Behold,” He says to us all, “your Mother.” And as Mary introduced Him into the world, and presented Him to us as the greatest Gift that ever came from heaven to earth, so she wishes to take us to Him as devoted and intimate lovers. As His Mother she desires this for His sake, and as our Mother she desires it for us.

Therefore, since both Jesus and His Mother desire us to have this intimate knowledge and love, it must be within our reach.

We need this great Friend. Our heart pines for someone who will understand us, who will give us sympathy and affection, who will be faithful in all the chances and changes of life. Jesus fills the part as none other can.

Life has many vicissitudes. Sooner or later the shadows will fall on our path. No one can escape. There will be disappointments, anxieties, the faithlessness of friends, the wiles of enemies, the death of those we love, sickness, perhaps old age with its feebleness and humiliations. Apart from those who die in early life, no one can escape the cross. Sooner or later it presses on every shoulder. In our distress we need a true friend and consoler. Where shall we find one that can be compared with Jesus Christ? Nowhere. “My burden,” He says, “is light, and My yoke is sweet. Come to Me and I will give you rest.”

In the daily Mass we come into intimate contact with the unfailing Friend Who, in every trial, will be at our side, and Who, when others desert us, will stand by our side and enfold us in His arms.

VI

HAPPINESS

Daily Mass will make your heart light and cheerful. It will throw a halo of happiness over your days. When we mention the word happiness we strike a chord that vibrates in every heart, for everyone desires happiness, everyone seeks it. And, moreover, everyone seeks it all the time, not at isolated intervals. It is a universal quest.

If we were to sum up all the efforts and all the longings of humanity in a single formula, it would be the Quest for Happiness. The sailor on the sea, the soldier in the army, the miner in the bowels of the earth, the aviator soaring through the sky, the merchant in his office, the hermit in his cell, the drunkard in his orgies, and the public sinner are all seeking for happiness under various forms. Many, indeed, seek it where it cannot be found, but all seek it and never cease from this tireless quest.

Even a limited experience of life impresses us with the fact that disappointment is common, that happiness for many is a matter of isolated moments, or, if more prolonged, is often only of a very partial and unsatisfactory character. Tennyson wrote:

“That loss is common would not make

My own less bitter, rather more:

Too common-never morning wore

To evening but some heart did break.’

It is a striking character of the literature of the present day, and of the nineteenth century, that the note of disappointment and sorrow is continually harped upon by the poets and the philosophers. The poet represents to us Joy standing ever at the gate of life bidding adieu. Burns the great poet of Scotland, writes that “man was made to mourn.” Oscar Wilde has told us “that hearts were made to be broken.” Schopenhauer defines the life of man as “a remorseless struggle for existence with the absolute certitude of defeat.” Byron writes:

“The glance of melancholy is a fearful gift.

What is it but a telescope of truth

That robs the distance of its ecstasies,

And brings life near in utter nakedness,

Making the cold reality too real.”

The poets admit the joyousness of childhood, but harp on the theme that sorrow comes with expanding reason. “In my wisdom there is woe and in my knowledge tears.” Shelley, in one of the most ad mired lyrics in the language, looks up at the skylark twittering his wings in the morning sky over dewy meadows and pouring out his song of joy-”his unpremeditated lay.” The poet longs to sing like the lark a note of joy, but confesses it is beyond him. He cannot sing like the lark, which has no forecast of disappointment, no retrospect of sorrow.

“We look before and after,

We pine for what is not

Our sincerest laughter with some pain is fraught,

Our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddestthought.”

One of the most beautiful lyrics in the language-perhaps the most beautiful-is the Ode to the Nightingale, by

Keats. It is steeped in melancholy. Deep dejection and disappointment run through all the exquisite harmony of the lines. Verifying Shelley’s statement that “our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thought,” the song of the nightingale awakes in the heart of Keats a strain of deepest sadness, reminding the bewildered listener that disappointment is common, that beauty fades, that love is disillusioned, that old age comes with its slow step and palsied hand in a world “where but to think is to be full of sorrows and leaden-eyed despairs.”

The theme might be indefinitely prolonged. And is there no remedy for the sadness that presses on the heart of man? Yes, and only one. The remedy is to attune the heart to harmony with Him Who made it.

God made the heart for Himself, and by an inexorable law written in the very fibres of our being that heart cannot know the thrill of genuine happiness and joy unless it is in harmony with Him Who made it. “Our heart,” said St. Augustine, “is restless till it finds rest in Thee.” “Two evils,” said the Lord through the prophet Jeremias, “have My people done. They have left Me, the Fountain of living waters, and have digged for themselves cisterns, broken cisterns, that can hold no water.”

And so the thirst of the heart is unappeased. The Psalmist, looking for joy, strikes the right note when he says, “I looked on my right hand and on my left, but there was none that cared for my soul. I turned to Thee, 0 God: Thou art my refuge and my hope in the land of the living. So I will go over to the place of the wonderful tabernacle with the song of joy and praise, with the noise of one feasting.”

Happiness is a gift of God. “My peace I leave you, My peace I give you, said Our Lord. “Not as the world giveth do I give it unto you.” That is to say, not the spurious imitation given by the world, but the genuine article that comes from God alone. Jesus Christ says, “Come to Me all you who are burdened and I will refresh you.

Happy, then, are those who know where to find the waters of refreshment, the happiness for which we are all thirsting, and who approach frequently, even daily. “the place of the wonderful tabernacle,” where they can receive from the Heart of Jesus Christ Himself the peace and happiness for which their own hearts thirst. The very first note struck by Christianity in the world was a note of joy, vibrating from angels’ voices in the air of our world on that first Christmas morn: “Behold I bring you tidings of a great joy that shall be to all the people.” “Come to me,” says the world, “and I will give you restlessness.” “Come to Me,” says Christ, “and I will give you rest.”

Let us, then go to God Who has made us for Himself. He will give us the peace that passes understanding. He will give us the consolation for which our heart pines. Therefore, let us go to Him in the holy sacrifice of the Mass, not occasionally, but daily. There, in close contact with the source of all joy, we find the solace which elsewhere we seek in vain.

VII

THE BLESSING OF EARLY RISING

The early rising usually connected with daily Mass is itself a great blessing of the natural order, a blessing poured over both health and character.

In the first article of this series I referred to the so-called difficulty of early rising; here I further elaborate the subject.

At the very outset of this concluding “reason” I should like to be considered reasonable. There are certainly some, even a good number of people, who, however much they might like to get up early and go to daily Mass, cannot do so. They have domestic duties at home which prevent their presence at daily Mass, and they can please God very greatly by attending with a pure intention to those duties. There are also many people in the country who are so far away from a church that it is impossible to go to daily Mass, even if daily Mass is celebrated in the district.

But, all this being said, when I think of the question of early rising I can scarcely help smiling. It is amusing to think of the purely imaginary terrors associated in the minds of the multitude of our fellow-citizens with getting up in the morning. Most people, I fear, get up unwillingly. They have to be forced out of bed. They get up because they can’t help it. They have to get their breakfast and they have to catch a certain tram or train to get to the place of their employment. And they arrange their hour of rising for the last moment consistent with carrying on the compulsory business of life. They are compelled to get up. They have all heard some time or other of the excellent song of Harry Lauder:

“It’s nice to get up in the mornin,

But it’s nicer to stay in bed.”

And when they hear the second line of this verse they say to themselves: “Those are my sentiments.” But it is all a vast delusion. It is nice to get up in the morning, and it’s not nicer to stay in bed. And I suspect that Lauder himself, in spite of his song, would be in full agreement; for he took good care of his health.

Now, is it not a deplorable thing that the whole order of time of so many of us is regulated by a kind of compulsion which takes away our liberty of choice? Just consider a normal day in the life of the normal citizen. He gets up at the latest hour consistent with getting to his work on time. He goes to bed overnight at the latest hour consistent with getting what he considers to be a sufficient amount of sleep for his physical well-being. And his day from the hour of rising till the hour of the evening meal is regulated by the occupations of his business or trade. Except for the leisure of the weekend a very small portion of his life is regulated by himself. He lives almost entirely under the compulsion of inexorable pressure.

Not so the person who rises for early Mass. He is not forced to get up. He gets up because he so arranges for it; and connected with his early voluntary rising he goes to bed early by an extension of the same liberty of choice. This has a bracing effect on the character.

But it has also a bracing effect on the health. There is the healthy walk to the church in the lovely fresh morning, which is the best hour of the day; there Is the peace and happiness of Mass. And what contributes more to health than peace and happiness? There is the feeling of a priceless treasure acquired, a good deed done, a bright and happy beginning to the day. And then there is the walk hack to the house, and the return home with lithe and springy footsteps, and a glow of health and happiness in the eyes. To add a motive of a purely natural order: there is a healthy appetite for breakfast! No, it’s not “nicer to stay in bed”-emphatically not.

What wonder, then, if all the gifts mentioned in the foregoing sections and many more equally great, fall to those who go to daily Mass; for at the tremendous words of Consecration an act takes place which, of all the acts that take place throughout the whole world, is the most pleasing to God. God is disposed to be more liberal on such an occasion. Now, if we assist at Mass we share in a special manner in that most pleasing offering. We offer up that gift to God along with the priest, and we receive in return immense blessings. You know the words of the priest when he turns to the people before the more solemn part of the Mass and says, “Orate fratres,” etc. That is, in English, “Pray, brethren, that my sacrifice and yours may be favourably received by the Lord God Almighty.” Note the words “mine and yours.”

This sacrifice is the greatest gift offered on earth to God. If you assist at daily Mass you are one of the offerers of that gift. It is Christ’s offering, and the priest’s offering, and your own offering.

Avail yourself, then, of every opportunity of assisting at Mass and approaching the Holy Table. Don’t make excuses too easily. See if you have not hitherto been neglecting the most precious opportunities. When the church bell rings out for Mass in the morning, think of the magnificent invitation thatis offered to you. Don’t lose the opportunity, but leave your bed in the fresh early morning, and draw near to the source of all light, and life, and peace.

VIII

SUPPLEMENTARY THOUGHTS: FOR THOSE WHO CANNOT GO TO DAILY MASS

There are many who would dearly like to assist at daily Mass and who fully ap preciate the “Reasons” that have been explained, but are quite unable to carry out their wishes. They feel they are missing something of great importance; something that would greatly contribute to their happiness and to the smooth running of the intricate wheels of existence.

But much as they envy those who have the opportunity of grasping the great treasure of daily Mass, they themselves are debarred by urgent household duties or by the fact that there is no Mass within a reasonable distance. God in His goodness sees and blesses their holy desire. For such men and women of good will I add these supplementary notes.

You wish to lead a full life, to fulfil in a thoroughgoing way the purposes of existence and, therefore, to lead a life entirely in harmony with God. Now, since it is impossible for you to assist at frequent weekday Mass, see what you can do to supply its place as far as possible. Grasp at the opportunities of a perfect service of God that are within your reach. We have not far to go: “The Kingdom of God is within you.”

(1) First of all, then, get up in time and say your Morning Prayers well. This will bring down the blessing of God on the whole day. Your Morning Prayers will include your Morning Offering. Make that offering slowly and earnestly. Look forward to the day’s work and your relations with your neighbour and offer up in advance every detail of the day for the Intentions of the Sacred Heart. That is a good beginning.

(2) Say Grace before and after meals—a good old custom and one which helps to develop the habit of purifying your intention.

(3) If your work is outside in the city or in the fields purify your intention again as you open the door to go forth. “Jesus, Mary and Joseph, watch over me today, bless me, and keep me from all sin.” Or something of the kind.

If your work is in the home, retire for a few moments when the first rush of work is over and pay a visit to the home altar or shrine of the Sacred Heart, and say a little prayer. You can unite your intention with all the Masses that are being offered throughout the world. This Is an easy and fruitful devotion.

(4) If your home is not yet consecrated to the Sacred Heart, see about getting this done without delay. If it is already consecrated it will be easier for you to make the little visit to the sacred image of Our Lord. The Handbook of Consecration (3d. posted from The “Messenger” Office) gives all the particulars of the consecration of the home to the Sacred Heart, and includes a collection of beautiful prayers to be used at periodical renewals of consecration. For a short visit to the home shrine one or another prayer may be used from the handbook.

(5) A great spirit of faith and love enters the home when the image of the Sacred Heart is suitably honoured. “I will bless those homes where an image of My Sacred Heart is exposed and honoured”; that is one of the Twelve Promises, and millions of people have had experience of the fulfilment of that Promise. To honour the sacred image is both easy and consoling. Place a few fresh flowers before the picture or statue of the Sacred Heart and keep a little lamp, the flame of which will be an outward testimony to all that in this home the Sacred Heart is honoured. In such a home and where such a welcome awaits Him, Our Lord will love to dwell. “If anyone love Me,” said Our Lord at the Last Supper, “My Father will love him, and We will come to him and will make Our abode with him.”

(6) At least a visit to the home shrine is possible for all-and desirable. But, even if weekday Mass is impossible, a visit to the Blessed Sacrament some time during the day may be quite feasible, especially when a person’s business takes him into the city where churches abound.

This daily visit is, therefore, greatly to be recommended, either when going to business or returning in the evening.

(7) Lastly-to omit other suggestions which could be made-have a copy of the “Imitation of Christ” and read a page, or even half a page, a day. Good reading and spiritual thoughts greatly nourish the soul and make our prayers more fruitful.

Don’t tell me that all this is too “high” for a person in the world. I want you to aim high. We have before us a mighty destiny stretching through all Eternity, and this brief period of earthly existence will soon be over. Meanwhile, we have to make the most of a short time of trial which is only a preparation for a life without end.

Nihil Obstat:

F. MOYNIHAN,

Censor Deputatus Imprimatur:

D DANIEL MANNIX,

Archiepiscopus Melbounensis 1942

********

Daily Pilgrimage To Purgatory

WITH THE PERMISSION OF THE SUPERIORS

INDEX

ORIGIN OF THE DAILY PILGRIMAGE TO PURGATORY

In the writings of St. Margaret Mary we find the following exhortation: “In union with the divine Heart of Jesus make a short pilgrimage to Purgatory at night. Offer Him all your activities of the day and ask Him to apply His merits to the suffering souls. At the same time implore them to obtain for you the grace to live and die in the love and friendship of this divine Heart. May He never find in you any resistance to His holy will, nor any wish to thwart His designs in your regard. Fortunate will you be, if you succeed in obtaining deliverance for some of these imprisoned souls, for you will gain as many friends in heaven.”

This pious practice which St. Margaret Mary recommended to her novices for the octave of All Souls, was introduced to the members of the Arch-confraternity of Our Lady of the Sacred Heart in the year 1885. Since then many of the faithful have made this pilgrimage daily. Our world-wide Arch-confraternity, therefore, would seem to have been chosen by divine Providence to obtain comfort and deliverance for many souls in Purgatory.

In a letter of recommendation, given on January 5 , 1884, his Eminence, Cardinal Monaco la Valette, Vicar General of His Holiness, sanctioned the propagation of the “Daily Pilgrimage to Purgatory.” On October 8 of the following year, his successor, Cardinal Parochi deigned not only to honour us with a letter of approbation, but also delivered a splendid sermon on this practice in the church of Our Lady of the Sacred Heart in Rome, in which it had been introduced. May it please the divine Heart of Jesus to use this booklet as a means of spreading this work of sympathetic love for the Poor Souls everywhere. May this most benevolent of hearts extend to all who in any way assist in its circulation, the fullness of His graces and blessings.

ADVANTAGES OF THIS PRACTICE

It is short. . . . . . . A “Daily Pilgrimage.” . . . .. . . . It is requires little more of your time than an ordinary prayer, a religious thought, or a devout ejaculation.

It is easy. . . . . . . It can be practised by any one without effort, regardless of age or state of life, at any time, and in any place.

It is comforting. . . . . . . . No more is required than to descend in spirit for a few moments into Purgatory; to petition God to send light, relief and peace to the holy souls: to relieve them of their sufferings, and to hasten the hour of their deliverance.

It is holy. . . . . . . It is in accordance with the wishes of the Sacred Heart; it increases His honour. He is our companion on this pilgrimage. We share in his love, and receive from Him light, relief and peace for the suffering souls.

It is generous. . . . . . . It offers to the Sacred Heart every meritorious deed performed in the course of a day; prayers, mortifications, good works, alms, suffrages of every kind, and places them at His disposal on behalf of the Poor Souls.

It is inexhaustible. . . . . . . . It implores Our Lord and Saviour to apply to them the infinite merits of His Life. His Passion and Death, and also those of the Blessed Virgin Mary, St. Joseph and all The Saints.

It is efficacious. . . . . If only you knew with what ardent desire these holy souls long for this new “remedy” which has such efficacy to relieve their sufferings. For this is what St Margaret Mary calls the devotion to the Sacred Heart.

It is meritorious . . . By extending this act of brotherly love to the Poor Souls, our own merits are increased in the same measure as the pious thoughts which it inspired, the good disposition which it creates, the acts of virtue which it prompts.

It goes on increasingly. . . . . . At every moment of the day and night, somewhere on earth members of the Archconfraternity pray for our departed friends according to our intention. There is an uninterrupted sequence of holy Masses, Stations of the Cross, good works, prayers and indulgences. Those whose death we mourn will never be forgotten.

It is approved by the Church. . . . . . Many bishops have readily given their approval. His Eminence, the Cardinal Vicar of his Holiness, has recommended it twice in a most explicit manner. The Holy Father himself has deigned to bestow the richest privileges upon the altar of the Poor Souls in the Church of Our Lady of the Sacred Heart in Rome.

It is favoured by God himself. . . . . . Numerous spiritual and temporal favours have manifested, again and again, how pleasing this practice is to the Sacred Heart. One may use it with confidence as a means of obtaining the conversion of a sinner, the restoration of health, or a special grace. Very effective also is the promise to promote this devotion if a petition be heard. If the Lord rewards in this life the gift or a cup of cold water, given in His name to the poor, He certainly will reward, even more generously, the help offered for His sake to the Poor Souls.

It is salutary. . . . . . By helping the Poor Souls, we assure ourselves their perpetual gratitude; they will pray for us, especially after their entrance into eternal happiness; in particular will they endeavour to obtain for us the grace of a happy death.

“On awakening on this morning on the Sunday of the Good Shepherd. .” wrote St. Margaret Mary two hundred years ago, “two of my suffering friends came to take leave of me, today the Good Shepherd received them into His eternal home. They left with untold joy and happiness. When I asked them to remember me, they replied: “Ingratitude has never entered heaven.”

It deserves to be propagated. . . . . . O you my Christian friends who read these lines, priests, religious or devout laypeople, help to spread this devotion, It is so simple, and requires so little effort; moreover, you will be rewarded for it. Let at least one tiny drop of water trickle into Purgatory every day. If no one refuses to do so, many souls will be released, and a refreshing stream of grace will flow without ceasing through that prison of fire.

‘ Daily Pilgrimage to Purgatory

Preparation:

(Either one of the following acts or a similar one will suffice.)

Prayer—O St. Margaret Mary, whom the Lord has chosen to reveal to the whole world all the treasures hidden in his merciful heart of Love! O thou who hast heard how the Poor Souls in Purgatory begged for this new remedy, the devotion to the Sacred Heart which relieves them so effectively of their torments! O thou who hast set free so many of these poor prisoners by practising this devotion: obtain for us the grace to make this Pilgrimage worthily in the company of the Sacred Heart of Jesus. Amen.

Unite your own intentions with those of the faithful who make this pilgrimage daily.

CONSECRATION OF THE DAY

Divine Heart of Jesus, in making this pilgrimage with Thee as my Companion, I consecrate to Thee all my thoughts, words and actions of the entire day. I pray Thee to unite my small merits with Thine and to apply them to the Poor Souls, especially the soul of Thy servant, N.N.

Likewise do I entreat you, holy souls, to help me obtain the grace to persevere in love and loyalty toward the Sacred Heart, by submitting readily and without complaint to whatever designs He may have in my regard.

Offering—Eternal Father, we offer Thee the Blood, Passion and Death of Jesus Christ and the sorrows of the most holy Mary and St. Joseph in payment for our sins, in suffrage for the holy souls in Purgatory, for the wants of our Holy Mother the Church and for the conversion of Sinners. Amen.

EJACULATION -”MAY THE SACRED HEART OF JESUS BE LOVED EVERYWHERE.”” 300 DAYS

“OUR LADY OF THE SACRED HEART, PRAY FOR US.” 300 DAYS

“St. Joseph, model and patron of those who love the Sacred Heart, pray for us.”

300 DAYS, PLENARY INDULGENCE, ONCE A MONTH

PREPARATORY MEDITATION

Let us for a moment, in company with the Sacred Heart, descend in spirit into the consuming flames of Purgatory. How many of these souls are beginning their painful imprisonment this very moment! I know many of them have been there for a long time and shall be there for a longer time to come! And what a holy legion almost entirely purified and cleansed at the present moment, shall rise to heaven this very day!

How happy the Poor Souls are! They have escaped hell forever. They are certain to obtain eternal happiness. They are friends of God; they are saved. And yet, how miserable they are at the same time. They must still suffer temporal punishment for sins which have been already forgiven them. The gates of their heavenly fatherland are still closed to them; they are sentenced to expiating fire.

Behold them in their present plight! Listen to their lamentations! Speak to them a word of friendship and sympathy, and hasten to their assistance!

SUNDAY

Holy Souls in Purgatory, is there anything you regret when you think of your life on earth?

I deeply regret wasted time . . . I did not consider it so precious, so fleeting, so irretrievable. For this reason my life was worth only half of what is might have been. Oh, had I but realised it then! Would that I could return to earth, how differently I would use the time given me!

Precious time!. . . . . . Today I know how to appreciate you. You were purchased with the blood of Christ: you were given me for the sole purpose of loving God, sanctifying myself and edifying my neighbour. But alas! I have abused you by committing sin; I have craved vanity, pleasures and trifles; I have been dreaming dreams which now cause me bitter reproaches and remorse. Precious time. . . . . . Wasted time. . . . . How heavily you weigh upon me now! How it grieves me to have lost you through my own fault!

Fleeting time which passes so quickly on earth, but which drags so slowly in this prison of fire, in this place of excruciating torments! Formerly, years seemed like days to me. My whole life vanished like a dream.

Hours now seem like years, days like centuries. I must now suffer, weep, and wait, until the last minute of wasted time is redeemed. Oh, how long shall my exile last!

Irretrievable time! On earth I relied on my last years to do penance; but the thread of my life was severed at a moment when I expected it least! O precious time! You were given me to acquire treasures and graces without number, but now you are lost for me forever.

You, who still live on earth, do not waste the gift of time, which has cost Jesus such a high price, and for which you too will have to suffer in Purgatory if you imitate our carelessness.

You, who are privileged to live during a time which is pre-eminently devoted to the Sacred Heart, during these last centuries when He has revealed to the world His love in its fullness: intercede for us that we may obtain the merits of at least one of these days, in which His grace is so freely and abundantly offered you.

Pious Exercises

Resolution.: Today I will do everything possible to assist the souls of priests, religious and all those in Purgatory who have been faithful to this devotion all their lives. I also recommend myself to those who are entering heaven at this moment

Thought for the day—The sufferings of the souls in Purgatory are so great that a single day appears to them like a thousand years.

Exercise—Use a few moments of your time to make ejaculations in honour of the divine Heart for the comfort and consolation of the Poor Souls.

Special Intention—Implore the divine Heart of Jesus to grant relief to the most forsaken soul in Purgatory.

Motive- The greater the abandonment of a soul, the greater will be its gratitude towards you. It will obtain for you the privilege never to be forsaken by God through the withdrawal of His grace, and never to abandon Him by committing sin.

PrayerO Lord God Almighty, I pray Thee, by the Precious Blood which Thy divine Son Jesus shed in the garden, deliver the souls in Purgatory and especially that soul which is most destitute of spiritual aid; and vouchsafe to bring it to Thy glory, there to praise and bless Thee forever. Amen

Our Father. . . . . . Hail Mary

(The Faithful who devoutly offer prayers for the Poor Souls, with the intention of doing so for 7 or 9 successive days, may obtain:

An indulgence of three years once each day; A plenary indulgence on the usual condition at the end of their 7 or 9 days of prayer.)

Any form of prayer for the Poor Souls may be used.

DE PROFUNDIS PSALM 129

Out of the depths I have cried unto Thee, O Lord:

Lord hear my voice. Let Thine ears be attentive to the voice of my supplication. If Thou, O Lord, shalt mark our iniquities: O Lord, who can abide it?

For with Thee there is mercy; and by reason of Thy law I have waited on Thee, O Lord. My soul hath waited on His word; my soul hath hoped in the Lord.

From the morning watch even unto night: let Israel hope in the Lord.

For with the Lord there is mercy; and with Him is plentiful redemption. And he shall redeem Israel from all his iniquities.

V. Eternal rest grant unto them, O Lord.

R. And let perpetual light shine upon them.

3 YEARS; 5 YEARS EVERY DAY IN NOVEMBER; PLENARY INDULGENCE ONCE A MONTH. EJACULATION: SWEET HEART OF JESUS, MAKE ME LOVE THEE EVER MORE AND MORE. 300 DAYS. PLENARY INDULGENCE ONCE A MONTH.

MONDAY

Holy Souls in Purgatory, is there anything you regret when you think of your life on earth?

I deeply regret my extravagance in the use of earthly possessions . . . My fortune, my health, my talent, my position in the world, the influence I had, my relatives, my servants, in a word, everything could have been of spiritual benefit to me if only I had known how to use it for die greater honour of the divine Heart. How many graces could I have drawn upon myself! This I neglected to do, and at the hour of my death, all my possessions have come to naught.

Oh, were I but rich today in these my former possession! Would that I could use them to hasten even for one moment, the hour of my deliverance; to increase, even by one degree, the glory which God has in store for me; to awaken if only in one soul now living in the world, the devotion to the divine Heart of Jesus.

My friends, whose fortunes are still at your disposal, use them for the support of your neighbour by generously giving alms to the poor. Use them for the greater honour of God as pious offerings designated for the propagation of the devotion to His Sacred Heart throughout the world.

Pious Exercises

Resolution.—Today I will do everything possible to assist the souls of the faithful departed from all parts of Europe. 1 also recommend myself to those who are entering heaven at this moment.

Thought for the day-”“The gates of heaven are opened by alms.” (St. John Chrys. home 32 in Ep. ad Heb.)

Exercise Give an alms for the propagation of the devotion to the divine Heart of Jesus.

Special Intention—Pray for the soul which is nearest to heaven.

Motive—The closer a soul is to the end of its sufferings, the more ardently will it long for union with the Sacred Heart. Remove. therefore, by your prayers, the obstacles still in its way. In return, it will obtain for you the grace to sever the ties which now prevent you from giving yourself entirely to God.

Prayer O Lord God Almighty. I pray Thee, by the Precious Blood which Thy divine Son Jesus shed in His cruel scourging, deliver the souls in Purgatory, and that soul especially which is nearest to its entrance into Thy glory; that so it may forthwith begin to praise and bless Thee forever. Amen.

Our Father . . . Hail Mary.

EJACULATION. SWEET HEART OF MARY, BE MY SALVATION!

300 DAYS. PLENARY INDULGENCE ONCE A MONTH

TUESDAY

Holy Souls in Purgatory, is there anything you regret when you think of your life on earth?

I deeply regret my neglect of so many splendid graces They have been offered to me in such abundance at every moment of my life and with such loving admonitions. Spiritual regeneration, vocation and sacraments; word of God, holy inspirations and good examples; graces to protect me in danger, to help me in temptations; the grace of forgiveness for my sins, of indulgences so easily gained. . . . . . What an incalculable number of the most varied graces!

Some of them I have refused: others I have accepted with coldness; unfortunately, I have misused most of them. I have preferred earthly possessions to the eternal. How I have deceived myself!

Oh, could I but for one moment quench my thirst at the fountains of mercy, flowing from the Sacred Heart! Unfortunately these fountains are spurned by sinners as they were by me.

You, who behold the inexhaustible stream of graces flow by, why do you not draw from it a few drops for yourself!

Consider what St Margaret Mary says: “It is certain that everyone on earth could obtain salutary graces without number, if he but had a grateful love for Jesus Christ, such as is manifested by those who love and venerate His Sacred Heart.”

Pious Exercises

Resolution Today I will do everything possible to assist the souls of the faithful departed from all parts of Asia, particularly from Palestine and from countries infested with idolatry, schism and heresy. I also recommend myself to those who are entering heaven at this moment.

Thought for the day “The benefit of a single grace is greater than all the material value of the whole world.” (St Thomas 1,2P,113alXad.2.)

Exercise- In order to relieve the Poor Souls of their sufferings, I shall offer them today, by way of suffrage, the benefit of some indulgence gained by prayers or some devotional exercise in honour of the divine Heart of Jesus.

Special Intention—Pray for the soul in Purgatory which is farthest from eternal rest.

Motive . Let yourself be moved by the abandonment, resignation and humility with which that soul bears its long suffering: it will be grateful to you. Happy will you be, if it obtains for you the virtue of humility in this world, so that you may be exalted in the next.

Prayer. O Lord Almighty, I pray Thee by the Precious Blood which Thy divine Son Jesus shed in the bitter crowning of thorns, deliver the souls in Purgatory, and in particular that soul which would be the last to depart out of this place of suffering, that it may not tarry so long before it comes to praise Thee in thy glory and bless Thee for ever. Amen.

Our Father . . . Hail Mary.

Eternal Father, I offer Thee the Precious Blood of Jesus Christ in satisfaction for my sins, and in supplication for the Holy Souls in Purgatory, and for the needs of the Holy Church.

500 DAYS. PLENARY INDULGENCE ONCE A MONTH IF SAID DAILY

WEDNESDAY

Holy Souls in Purgatory, is there anything you regret when you think of your life on earth?

I deeply regret the evil which I have done. In the world, evil seemed so easy, so pleasant. In the midst of pleasures I silenced the voice of conscience. Today my faults weigh me down; their bitterness torments me; their memory persecutes and tortures me.

Mortal sins, forgiven, but not atoned for, venial sins, small imperfections. Too late to detest you in Purgatory! Just punishment must now take its course.

Oh. if I could return to life again! No promise, be it ever so tempting, no riches, no flattery could induce me to commit even the smallest sin!

My friends, you who are still free to choose between God and the world, gaze upon the crown of thorns. upon the cross, upon all the sufferings which your sins have brought upon the Sacred Heart! Think of the sorrow which these sins and faults will cause you in Purgatory, and you will be able to avoid them without effort.

If you long for the grace to resist Satan when he tempts you, consider what St. Margaret Mary says: “ I cannot believe that persons consecrated to this divine Heart will ever be lost; neither do I believe that they will fall into the hands or Satan by committing a mortal sin, after having given themselves entirely to Him. For they will make every effort to honour, love and glorify this divine Heart, and to follow his designs in their regard willingly and without reserve.”

Pious Exercises

Resolution- Today I will do everything possible to assist the souls of the faithful departed from Africa, particularly from those countries in Africa which were formerly Catholic, and are now returning to our holy Faith. I also recommend myself to those who are entering heaven at this moment.

Thought for the day “What doth it profit a man, if he gain the whole world and suffer the loss of his own soul?” (Math. 16,25.)

Exercise Make an act of contrition in union with the souls in Purgatory, before a picture of the Sacred Heart.

Special intention Pray for the soul richest in merits.

Motive The more exalted a soul is in heaven, the more effective will be its request for true love of God for you, without which there is no real merit.

Prayer—O Lord God Almighty, I pray Thee, by the Precious Blood which Thy divine Son Jesus shed in the streets of Jerusalem, when He carried the Cross upon His sacred shoulders, deliver the souls in Purgatory, and especially that soul which is richest in merits before Thee, that so. in that throne of glory which awaits it, it may magnify Thee and bless Thee forever. Amen.

Our Father . . . Hail Mary.

EJACULATION—JESUS, MARY, JOSEPH. I GIVE YOU MY HEART AND MY SOUL

Jesus, Mary, Joseph, assist me in my last agony.

Jesus, Mary, Joseph, may I breathe forth my soul in peace with you.

SEVEN YEARS FOR EACH INVOCATION. PLENARY INDULGENCE ONCE A MONTH

THURSDAY

Holy Souls in Purgatory, is there anything you regret when you think of your life on earth?

I deeply regret the scandal which I have given! Oh, if I had to grieve over my own faults only . . . If only I would have prevented, in the hour of my health, the disastrous consequences of the scandal of which I was the cause. If only I could detain from this place of darkness the many souls that followed my sad example and listened to my pernicious teachings! But no! Through my fault the evil goes on, and perhaps, will spread over a period of years and centuries. And now I have to give an account of all the sins for which I am to blame!

Oh, were I but able to let my sad words resound unto the ends of the earth and to wander through the world as a preacher of penance! With what untiring zeal would I labour among souls in order to estrange them from evil and return them to virtue. Oh you my friends on earth, who come to visit me in this dark prison in order to let a ray of salutary light shine upon me: you shall find in the Sacred Heart the surest and easiest way of bringing back to God as many souls as I have led into sin by bad example!

Tell them that “this divine Heart is a fortress and a sanctuary for those who desire to escape divine justice by seeking refuge in Him. For the number of sins committed at the present time is so great, that they challenge a just Creator to punish the sinner swiftly and severely.”

Pious Exercises

Resolution—Today I will do everything possible to assist the souls of the faithful departed from North and South America, especially those from my native town. I also recommend myself to those who are entering heaven at this moment.

Thought for the day “The Son of man will render to everyone according to his works.” (Math. 16.27). Exercise Give to someone a picture or a book treating of the Sacred Heart.

Special Intention Pray for the soul which had the greatest devotion to the Most Blessed Sacrament. Motive That soul will obtain for you the grace to receive Holy Communion worthily at the hour of death as a pledge of your eternal salvation.

Prayer O Lord God Almighty, I pray Thee, by the Precious Blood of Thy divine Son Jesus, which He gave with His own hands upon the eve of His Passion to His beloved Apostles to be their food and drink, and which He left to His whole Church to be a perpetual sacrifice and live-giving food of His own faithful people, deliver the souls in Purgatory, and especially that one which was most devoted to this mystery of infinite love, that it may with Thy same divine Son, and with Thy Holy Spirit, ever praise Thee for Thy love therein in eternal glory. Amen.

Our Father . . . Hail Mary.

EJACULATION—MY JESUS! MERCY!

300 DAYS. PLENARY INDULGENCE ONCE A MONTH

FRIDAY

Holy Souls in Purgatory, is there anything you regret when you think of your life on earth?

I deeply regret my neglect of acts of mortification. How easy they would have been on earth, but how difficult they are now in Purgatory. Here the smallest suffering is more poignant than the most cruel torments on earth. In the world it meant only patience and resignation in the hardships and adversities of my life; it meant only giving from my surplus to the poor, and devoting myself to works of atonement; it meant only gaining Indulgences and performing works of piety. Nothing could have been easier, and my Purgatory would have been shortened considerably.

If God would but grant me the grace to exchange the years during which I must still remain in this place of sorrow for as many years of life on earth! No commands would be too severe for me; no pains could frighten me; the most difficult works of penance would be sweet and give me comfort at the thought of this consuming fire.

You who now smart under the insignificant trials and hardships of this life! You who now earn your daily bread by the sweat of your brow, rejoice! The smallest suffering endured in the spirit of atonement and offered to the Sacred Heart in the spirit of expiation, will save you from a long and painful Purgatory.

Pious Exercises

Resolution Today I will do everything possible to assist the souls of the faithful departed from the far distant countries of Oceania, particularly from the most difficult, severely tried Catholic mission districts. I also recommend myself to those who are entering heaven at this moment.

Thought for the day “Bring forth therefore worthy fruits of penance.” (Luke 3,8.)

Exercise Offer to the Sacred Heart a little act of mortification for the relief of the suffering souls in Purgatory. Special Intention—Pray for the souls for which you are most bound to pray.

MOTIVE IF YOU ARE INDEBTED TO THESE SOULS BY AN OBLIGATION OF JUSTICE, DO NOT POSTPONE IT, BECAUSE THIS MAY CALL DOWN the wrath of God upon yourself.

Prayer O Lord God Almighty, I pray Thee, by the Precious Blood which Thy divine Son shed on this day upon the wood of the cross, especially from His most sacred hands and feet, deliver the souls in Purgatory, and in particular that soul for which I am most bound to pray; that no neglect of mine may hinder it from praising Thee in Thy glory and blessing Thee forever. Amen.

Our Father . . . Hail Mary.

EJACULATION—JESUS, MEEK AND HUMBLE OF HEART, MAKE MY HEART LIKE UNTO THINE

500 DAYS. PLENARY INDULGENCE ONCE A MONTH

SATURDAY

Holy Souls in Purgatory, is there anything you regret when you think of your life on earth?

I deeply regret the little amount of charity I have shown towards the Poor Souls during my life on earth. I could have been of such great service to them, since a Catholic can bring so much light and peace to these poor, suffering prisoners. I could have helped them by my prayers, mortifications, alms, good works, holy communions and holy Masses, the latter, either by having them said for the Poor Souls or by attending them, especially those celebrated in honour of the Sacred Heart. I would have obtained numerous graces which would have made it easier for me to avoid sin. Moreover, I would have deserved a much shorter and less painful Purgatory, and now I would receive a much greater share in the prayers which were said for us wherever there are Catholics.

Oh, could I but return to the world to help the Poor Souls! I certainly would interest myself in their sad plight! What devout prayers would I say for them !

How solicitous I would be to awaken in the faithful the most tender sympathy and pity for them.

Pious Exercises

Resolution Today I will do everything possible to assist the souls of the faithful departed from the missions fields of Melanesia and Micronesia. (New Ireland, New Britain, the Solomon, Gilbert and Marshall Islands and New Guinea.) I also recommend myself to those who are entering heaven at this moment.

Thought for the day—Thus spoke the guilt-burdened brothers of innocent Joseph one to another: “We deserve to suffer these things, because we have sinned against our brother, seeing the anguish of his soul, when he besought us, and we would not hear; therefore, is this affliction come upon us.” (Gen. 42,21).

Exercise Spread, as much as possible, the devotion “Daily Pilgrimage to Purgatory.” The Poor Souls will be grateful to you.

Special Intention—Pray for the soul which had the greatest devotion to Our Lady of the Sacred Heart.

Motive In doing so you cause the Mother of God great delight: she will obtain for you, through the intercession of this soul, the grace of a true devotion to the Sacred Heart.

Prayer—O Lord God Almighty, I beseech Thee, by the Precious Blood, which gushed forth from the side of Thy Divine Son Jesus, in the sight of, and to the extreme pain of His most holy Mother, deliver the souls in Purgatory, and especially that soul which was the most devout to Our Lady of the Sacred Heart and Queen of Heaven; that it may soon attain unto Thy glory, there to praise Thee in her, and her in Thee, world without end. Amen.

Our Father . . . Hail Mary.

EJACULATION—OUR LADY OF THE SACRED HEART, PRAY FOR US! 300 DAYS

THE HEROIC ACT OF CHARITY IN FAVOUR OF THE POOR SOULS IN PURGATORY

The heroic Act of Charity is the most beautiful and most effective manifestation of devotion to the Poor souls, as well as of love of God and neighbour in general. For those of our associates who did not make it as yet, we give the following explanation.

1. PURPOSE OF MEANING OF HEROIC ACT OF CHARITY.

The heroic act of charity on behalf of the souls in Purgatory consists of a voluntary offering, made by one of the faithful in their favour, of all works of satisfaction done in this life, as well as of all suffrages which shall be offered after death. By this act he deposits all these works and suffrages in the hands of the Blessed Virgin, that she may distribute them on behalf of those holy souls whom it is her good pleasure to deliver from the pains of Purgatory, and at the same time he declares that by this personal offering he forgoes on their behalf only the special and personal benefit of those works of satisfaction, so that, if he be a priest, he is not hindered from applying the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass according to the intention of those who give him alms for that purpose.

Every meritorious act performed in the state of sanctifying grace and with a good intention, gains for us the following spiritual privileges:

An increase in sanctifying grace and heavenly glory.

Many graces of body and soul for ourselves and for others.

Remission of temporal punishment for our sins. Only this third fruit, the satisfactory or expiatory part of the works that we accomplish is conceded or applied to the souls in Purgatory, whereas the fruit of merit and impetration (of prayer), remains ours. The heroic act therefore does not prevent us from praying for ourselves or for others, nor to let others share in our good works.

REMARKS

In making the heroic act and desiring to gain the indulgences attached to it, one foregoes in truth and in fact, without reservation of any kind, and without exception, the special and personal benefits of all works of satisfaction and suffrage, and deposits them as a voluntary offering to God in the hands of the Blessed Virgin.

This act of charity is not a vow and does not bind under sin. It may be revoked at any time,” It stands to reason, however, that, by doing so, one can no longer gain the indulgences attached to the heroic act

INDULGENCES

The priests who have made this offering may enjoy the benefits of the privileged altar personally every day of the year .All the faithful who have made this act may gain:

1. A plenary indulgence applicable only to the departed, every day that they receive Holy Communion, provided they visit a church or public oratory and pray for the intention of the Sovereign Pontiff.

2. A plenary indulgence every Monday, if they hear Mass in suffrage for the souls in Purgatory and fulfil the usual conditions. The sick, old people, those living in the country, travellers, prisoners, etc., who cannot hear Mass on Monday may offer to this end that of the Sunday. .

3. All indulgences granted, or to be granted and gained by the faithful who have made this offering, are applicable to the holy souls in Purgatory, even when this faculty is not so expressed in the formula or decree of the concession of such indulgences.

MOTIVES FOR MAKING THE HEROIC ACT

1. You gain many indulgences.

2. Innumerable souls are quickly released from Purgatory; heaven is filled with new saints, who will glorify and praise God for all eternity, also on your behalf.

3. You will gain the special love of the Holy Trinity, of Our Saviour, and of all the saints and you have the promise of Our Lord applied to you: “Blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy.” (Math. 5, 7.)

4. After you have made the heroic act, the Poor Souls will become your debtors; in heaven they will labour that you may not be lost, that you shall not suffer Purgatory at all, or at least be released from it soon.

5. The Blessed Virgin receives an increase of signal veneration, since she will be proclaimed, loved, and invoked as the most loving Queen of the Poor Souls and sweet dispenser of our merits to them. There can be no doubt that she will have a special affection for those who love and honour her in this way, both while they are in this world and after they have passed into eternity.

UNNECESSARY APPREHENSION IN REGARD TO THE HEROIC ACT

Do not be afraid that you will suffer any loss by this act of charity. Neither need you fear that you yourself will be in danger of having to endure a long and painful Purgatory. On the contrary, you can only gain by it, since you will enjoy the special love of the Most Holy Trinity, of Our Saviour, the Blessed Virgin, and of all the saints. Who shall fare better in the end: he who relies solely on justice of God, or he who heroically offers his merits to the Poor Souls and trusts entirely in God’s infinite mercy and generosity? The latter without doubt. In making the heroic act of charity, therefore, you have nothing to fear for yourself; you can only gain by it.

Nor need you fear that the souls of your relatives, friends and benefactors will be slighted in the least. The Blessed Virgin does not distribute arbitrarily the good works offered for the Poor Souls, but according to that measure of charity and justice which God himself employs in the distribution of His graces. She will therefore favour with your merits preferably those souls towards whom you have special obligations.

Many persons, distinguished by their position, learning and holiness, have made this heroic act in favour of the Poor Souls and will not regret it in eternity. Follow their example, and likewise offer the atoning merits of your good works for the comfort and deliverance of the Poor Souls.

No special formula for making the heroic act is prescribed. For your convenience however, we herewith give the formula taken from the works of St. Alphonsus de Liguori. Its briefness lends itself to a frequent and profitable renewal of this act.

“Oh my God, in union with the merits of Jesus and Mary, I offer Thee for the souls in Purgatory, all my satisfactory works, as well as those which may be applied to me by others during my life, and after my death. And, so as to be more agreeable to the Divine Heart of Jesus and more helpful to the departed, I place them all in the hands of the merciful Virgin Mary.

INVOCATIONS FOR THE POOR SOULS

We beseech Thee, O Lord, help the souls detained in the fire of Purgatory, whom Thou hast redeemed with Thy

Precious Blood.

Dear Lord Jesus, grant them (or him) eternal rest.

300 DAYS

THE DAILY PILGRIMAGE TO PURGATORY- A PIOUS UNION OF PRAYER

ITS OBJECT

“In union with the Divine Heart of Jesus make a short pilgrimage to Purgatory at night. Offer Him all your activities of the day and ask Him to apply His merits to the suffering souls. At the same time implore them to obtain for you the grace to live and die in the love and friendship of this divine Heart. May he never find in you any resistance to His holy will nor any wish to thwart His design in your regard. Fortunate will you be, if you succeed in obtaining deliverance for some of these imprisoned souls, for you will gain as many friends in heaven.”

ITS PURPOSE

The purpose of this “Pious Union” is to obtain relief and deliverance from Purgatory for the Poor Souls. Its secondary aim is the attainment of personal holiness, the conversion of sinners and the acquisition of the necessary spiritual and temporal graces.

ITS PRIVILEGES a. Special protection of the Sacred Heart, Who considers every act of charity towards the Poor Souls as done to

Himself. b.Gratitude of the souls in Purgatory. “If only you knew,” writes St. Margaret Mary, “with what great longing these holy souls yearn for this new “remedy”, which relieves them so effectively of their sufferings. For this is what they call true devotion to the Sacred heart, especially the sacrifice of the holy Mass offered in His honour.” In another place the

Saint says: “Ingratitude has never entered heaven.” c. A share in the prayers and good works of the associates. d. The departed members of this “Pious Union,” particularly those who have been specially recommended, receive unceasingly the fruits of the numerous holy Masses, offered for the intention of this association.

ITS OBLIGATIONS a. Promise without binding yourself in conscience, to meditate every day, no matter how briefly, on Purgatory or some other pious practice, e.g. on some ejaculatory prayer to which indulgences applicable to the Poor Souls are attached. b. Send, if possibl e once a year, a holy Mass for the intention of this “Pious Union .Offer for the same intention all the Masses you attend, all the Holy Communions you receive, all the good works you perform, particularly those which have for their purpose the veneration of the Sacred Heart.

REMARKS

Help to spread the devotion to the Sacred Heart, so dear and beneficial to the suffering souls.

Distribute the booklet: “Daily Pilgrimage to Purgatory.”

Enrol, if you have not yet done so, in the Archconfraternity of Our Lady of the Sacred Heart. All of its indulgences are applicable to the Poor Souls.

INDULGENCED PRAYERS

Eternal Father, I offer Thee the Precious Blood of Jesus Christ in satisfaction for my sins, and in supplication for the

Holy Souls in Purgatory, and for the needs of the Holy Church.

500 DAYS. PLENARY INDULGENCE ONCE A MONTH IF SAID DAILY

Sweet Heart of Mary, be my salvation!

300 DAYS. PLENARY INDULGENCE ONCE A MONTH IF SAID DAILY

My Jesus mercy!

300 DAYS. PLENARY INDULGENCE ONCE A MONTH IF SAID DAILY

Jesus, meek and humble of Heart, make my heart like unto Thine!

500 DAYS, ONCE A DAY. PLENARY INDULGENCE ONCE A MONTH IF SAID DAILY

May the Sacred Heart of Jesus be loved everywhere!

300 DAYS

Our Lady of the Sacred Heart, pray for us!

300 DAYS

St. Joseph, Model and Patron of those who love the Sacred Heart, pray for us!

300 DAYS. PLENARY INDULGENCE ONCE A MONTH

Nihil Obstat:

MA. SCHUMACHER Censor Librorum

August 15, 1933

Imprimatur:

@ EDWARD F. HOBAN Bishop of Rockford

********

Daily Thoughts From The Little Flower

BY REV. FRANCIS BROOME, C.S.P

INDEX

FOREWORD

The work “Sainte Therese de l’Enfant Jesus,” from which these thoughts are taken, consists of the autobiography of the Little Flower, extracts from her poems and letters, and from the evidence submitted for her canonization. It is by far the most authentic record of her life and teaching.

JANUARY

“In this is charity: not as though we had loved God, but because He hath first loved us, and sent His Son to be a propitiation for our sins.” (1 John iv. 10.)

1-WHEN CHRIST SAID “GIVE ME TO DRINK,”1 IT WAS THE LOVE OF HIS POOR CREATURES THAT HE, THE CREATOR OF ALL THINGS, DESIRED. HE THIRSTED FOR LOVE.

2-Because I was little and feeble, Our Lord stooped down to me and lovingly instructed me in the secrets of His love. (Birthday of St. Therese, January 2, 1873.)

3-How good our Jesus is. How loving and tender. How easy it is to touch His Heart.

4-Jesus does not consider time,2 since He is eternal. He considers only love.

5-Jesus does not need books or learned men to instruct souls. He, the Doctor of doctors, teaches without noise of words.3 I have never heard Him speak, but I know that He is within me.

6*-With Your little hand which caresses Mary, You sustain the universe and bestow life; and You think of me, O Jesus my little King. (Feast of the Epiphany.)

7-Jesus does not reveal everything to souls at one time. He usually gives His light only gradually.

8-It seems to me, O Jesus, that if You find souls offering themselves as victims to Your love, You will rapidly consume them; You will never again hold back from them the flames of infinite tenderness which have their source in You.

9*-Though Thou hast the Seraphim in Thy heavenly court, Thou seekest my love; Thou desirest my heart. Jesus, I give it to Thee.

10-In one word-I wish to amuse the little Jesus and to give myself over to His baby caprices. (St. Therese takes the habit of Carmel, January 10, 1889.)

11-There is only one who can understand love, and that is our Jesus. He alone can give us infinitely more than we can ever give Him.

12-On this earth, where everything changes, one thing alone does not change-the conduct of the King of Heaven towards His friends.

13-I believe that it is Jesus Himself, hidden at the bottom of my poor, little heart, who acts in me in some mysterious way and tells me everything He wishes me to do at the present moment.

14-Yes, I have believed for a long time that the Lord is more tender than a mother, and I have known more than one maternal heart.

15*-Jesus more and more desires a throne of gold, and this throne is your pure heart.

16-Through all my life, the Lord has been pleased to surround me with love; my first recollections are of smiles and tender caresses.

17-What sweet joy to think that the Lord is just, that He takes into account our weakness, and knows perfectly the frailty of our nature.

18*-O MY GOD, THOU ART LOVE.4

19-I see that the Lord alone is immutable, that He alone can fulfill my immense desires.

1 John iv. 7. 2Cf. 2 Peter iii. 8. 3Cf. Imitation of Christ, Bk. III., Ch. 43, 3. 4 I John iv. 8, 16. The asterisk (*) in all references indicates a selection from the poems of St. Therese

20 -Do not fear. If you are faithful in pleasing Jesus in little things, He will be obliged to help you in the greater things.

21-At any price I wish to gain the palm of St. Agnes; if not by blood, it must be done by love. (Feast of St. Agnes.)

22-O Jesus, I want to be magnetized by Thy Divine glance. I want to become the prey of Thy love.

23-O my God, Thou hast surpassed even my desires, and I would tell of Thy mercies.

24-Yes, all my hopes will be fulfilled. The Lord will work wonders in me which will even surpass my great desires.

25-To be just means not only to deal severely with the guilty; it means to recognize good intentions and to repay virtues. I hope as much from the Justice of the good God as I hope from His Mercy.

26-To pick up a pin for love can convert a soul. It is Jesus alone who can give such value to our actions. Let us then love Him with all our heart.

27-The more You wish to give us, O God, the more You make us desire.

28-I so want to be a saint, but I feel my weakness and so I beg You, O my God, to be my sanctity.

29-YES, ALL IS WELL,5 WHEN WE SEEK ONLY THE DIVINE PLEASURE. (FEAST OF ST. FRANCIS DE SALES.)

30-We should look for no support except in Jesus. He alone is immutable. What joy to think that He can never change.

31-Yes, Jesus is content with even a glance or sigh of love.

FEBRUARY

“Let us therefore love God, because God first hath loved us.” (1 John iv. 19.)

1-I wish so much to love Jesus-to love Him as He has never yet been loved.

2-O, how I love the Blessed Virgin. If I were a priest how often would I speak of her. She is described as unapproachable, whereas she should be pointed to as a model. She is more of a Mother than a Queen. (Feast of the

Purification.)

3-If we fall, all is atoned for by an act of love and Jesus smiles.

4-You know that our Lord does not look at the greatness or the difficulty of an action but at the love with which you do it. What then have you to fear?

5*-My soul sighs for Thy beautiful Heaven, that I may love Thee-love Thee ever more and more.

6-O Jesus, You know that it is not for the reward that I serve You, but simply because I love You and in order to save souls.

7-I do not think there will be a judgment for victims of Divine Love. Rather the good God will hasten to repay with eternal delights His own love which He will see burning in their hearts.

8-Why are you afraid to offer yourself as a victim to the merciful Love? If you offered yourself to the Divine Justice, you might fear. but Love will have compassion on your weakness and will treat you with sweetness and mercy.

9-Do not be afraid to tell Jesus that you love Him-even if you don’t feel that you love Him. That is the way to force Him to aid you.

10*-You know, O my God, that I have but today on this earth to love You.

11*-I do not tremble when I see my weakness, for the treasures of a mother belong also to her child, and I am thy child, O dear Mother Mary. (Feast of Our Lady of Lourdes.)

12-I do not desire sensible love. If it is sensible to Jesus, that is enough for me.

13-”You must try to sleep,” the infirmarian told St. Therese. “I cannot, my sister. I suffer too much-but then I pray.” “What do you say to Jesus?” “I don’t say anything. I love Him.”

14-How sweet is the way of love. Yes, one may fall or commit infidelities; but love, knowing how to draw profit from everything, quickly consumes whatever could displease Jesus, leaving at the bottom of the heart only a humble and profound peace.

5 Cf. Isaias iii. 10.

15 -One phase of Heaven causes my heart to beat faster-the love that I shall receive and that I shall be able to give.

16-Jesus, Jesus, if it is so sweet to desire love, what shall it be to possess it, to enjoy it for all eternity?

17-O Jesus, my Love, at last I have found my vocation. My vocation is to love. In the heart of my Mother the Church, I will be the Love.

18-By love and not by fear, does a soul avoid committing the least voluntary fault.

19-My Heaven was to love God, and I felt, in my ardour, that nothing could tear me away from this Divine Object which had taken me captive.

20-Jesus does not need our deeds, but He does need our love.

21-I have heard it said at retreats and elsewhere, that an innocent soul never loves God as much as a repentant soul. Well, I want to prove that this is wrong.

22-As I grew older, I loved the good God more and more and very often I offered Him my heart.

23-Now my only desire is to love Jesus unto folly. Yes, it is love alone which attracts me.

24-For those who love Him, and who, after each little fault, come, throw themselves into His arms and ask pardon, Jesus thrills with joy.

25*-My dear Savior, repose on my heart. It belongs to Thee.

26-Yes, we must keep everything for Jesus with a jealous solicitude. It is so good to work for Him alone.

27*-O burning Dart of Love, consume me without cease; wound my heart while still I am on this earth. Divine Jesus, realize my dream to die of love for Thee.

28-I understand that without love, all deeds, even the most brilliant, are as nothing.

29-It shall not be said that a woman of the world does more for her merely human spouse, than I do for my beloved Jesus.

MARCH

“Let us run by patience to the fight proposed to us: looking on Jesus, the author and finisher of faith, who having joy set before Him, endured the cross, despising the shame.” (Heb. xii. 1.)

1-Jesus wishes to bring His Kingdom to souls more by suffering and persecution than by brilliant preaching.

2-Trials help greatly to detach us from earth. They make us look to God, rather than to this world.

3-The martyrdom of the heart is no less fruitful than the shedding of blood.

4-IT IS SO CONSOLING TO THINK THAT JESUS, DIVINE STRENGTH ITSELF, HAS EXPERIENCED OUR WEAKNESS, THAT HE TREMBLED AT THE SIGHT OF THE BITTER CHALICE,6 THE CHALICE WHICH HE HAD SO ARDENTLY DESIRED.

5*-My joy is to love suffering. I smile in the midst of tears and receive with thanksgiving the thorns as well as the flowers.

6-Jesus has always treated me like a favorite child. It is true that His cross has accompanied me from my childhood, but He has made me love this cross passionately.

7-I do not fear trials sent by Jesus, for even in the most bitter suffering we can see that it is His loving hand which causes it.

8-Willingly would I remain all my religious life in this dark tunnel of spiritual dryness into which Jesus has led me. I wish only that my darkness may obtain light for sinners.

9-Do you know what days are my Sundays and feast days? They are the days when the good God tries me the most.

10-Nothing is too great to suffer in order to win the palm of eternal life.

11-I value sacrifice more than ecstasy. I find my happiness in suffering, as I find it nowhere else.

12-JESUS GIVES TO ME JUST WHAT I CAN BEAR AT EACH MOMENT,7 NO MORE; AND IF A MOMENT LATER HE INCREASES MY SUFFERING, HE ALSO INCREASES MY STRENGTH.

13-”You have had many trials today,” someone said to St. Therese. “Yes, but I love them. I love everything that the dear God gives to me.”

6 Luke xxii. 43. 7 1 Cor. x. 13.

14 -If I did not suffer from moment to moment, I would not be able to keep patience, but I see only the present moment; I forget the past and take care not to peer into the future.

15-The good God has always helped me. He has aided me and led me by the hand from my childhood. I depend on Him. My sufferings may reach their limit, but I am certain that He will never abandon me.

16-All that I have written about my desire to suffer is true. I am not sorry that I have surrendered myself to Love.

17-Jesus wants to take complete possession of your heart. That is why He makes you suffer much, but, O what joy will fill your soul at the happy moment of your entrance into Heaven.

18-I have reached the point where I cannot suffer, because all suffering has become sweet to me.

19-I have not an insensible heart and it is just because it can suffer much that I want to give Jesus all that this heart can endure.

20-Suffering united with love is the one thing we should desire in this valley of tears.

21-For what can give greater joy than to suffer for Thy Love? The more intense the suffering, and the more it is hidden from the eyes of creatures, the more does it cause Thee to smile, O my God.

22-How merciful is the way by which the Divine Master has always led me. He has never made me wish for anything without giving it to me; that is why His bitter chalice seems delightful to me.

23-If it pleases the good God, I willingly consent to have my life of bodily and spiritual sufferings prolonged for years. No, I do not fear a long life; I do not refuse the combat.

24-My heart beat violently when I pressed my lips to the dust of the Coliseum, that dust purpled by the blood of the first Christians. I asked the grace to be a martyr also for Jesus and I feel at the bottom of my heart that I was heard.

25-I should rather simply confess that “He that is mighty has done great things to me,”8 and the greatest of these is to have shown me my littleness, my incapability of all good. (Feast of the Annunciation.)

26-I tell Jesus that I am glad not to be able to see, with the eyes of my soul, this beautiful Heaven which awaits me, in order that He may vouchsafe to open it forever to poor unbelievers.

27-As I visited the terrible prisons at Venice (the Palace of the Doges), I was carried back in spirit to the times of the martyrs. I would joyfully have chosen this dark dungeon as my dwelling, rather than deny my faith.

28-O my God, I choose everything. I do not want to be a saint by halves. I am not afraid to suffer for You.

29-What happiness to suffer for Him who loves us even unto folly. What happiness to be counted as fools in the eyes of the world.

30*-O Guardian Angel, fly in my stead to those who are dear to me; dry their tears; tell them of the goodness of Jesus and of the benefit of suffering and O so softly murmur my name.

31-You should voyage on the stormy sea of life with the abandonment and love of a child, who knows that its father loves it and will not forsake it in the hour of danger.

APRIL

“Therefore I say unto you, all things, whatsoever you ask when ye pray, believe that you shall receive; and they shall come unto you.” (Mark xi. 24.)

1-What offends Jesus, what wounds His Sacred Heart, is lack of confidence in Him.

2-Confidence and nothing else is what leads us to Love.

3-I wish to suffer everything that my Beloved wishes. I wish to allow Him to do with His little ball whatever He desires.

4-What pleases Jesus is to see me love my lowliness and poverty ; to see the blind hope I have in His Mercy.

5*—My gifts are all too unworthy and so I should offer You my very soul, O most loving Savior.

6-Abandonment alone guides me. I have no other compass.

7-The only happiness here below is to strive to be always content with what Jesus gives us.

8-Suffering has held out its arms to me since my entrance into Carmel, and I have embraced it lovingly. (St. Therese enters Carmel, April 8, 1888.)

9-My one desire is the glory of Christ. I have abandoned to Him my own glory and if He seems to forget me- 8 Luke i. 49. well, He is free to do so, since I do not belong to myself but to Him.

10 -I am sick now and will not be cured. Always I remain in peace; for a long time I have not belonged to myself but I am given over totally to Jesus. He is free to do with me whatever He wishes.

11*-No, I am not an angel of Heaven, but if I fall every moment of my life, I shall get up and come to Thee. Give me the grace that I may live by love.

12-I accept everything for the love of the good God-even the strangest thoughts which enter my mind.

13-To be truly a victim of love, we must give ourselves up entirely; for we are only consumed by love in the degree that we give ourselves to love.

14-When, with a truly filial confidence, we cast our faults into the consuming furnace of love, they will, for certain, be entirely consumed.

15-We can never have too much confidence in the good God who is so powerful and so merciful. We obtain from Him as much as we hope for.

16-I do not wish creatures to have one atom of my love. I wish to give all to Jesus, since He has shown me that He alone is perfect happiness. (Feast of St. Benedict Joseph Labre.)

17-Yes, I wish always to depend on the abundance of heavenly gifts, knowing that everything comes from above.

18-I do not more desire to die than to live. If the Lord offered me the choice, I would choose nothing. I wish only what He wishes. I love what gives pleasure to Him.

19-O, if souls, who are as feeble and imperfect as I, could feel as I feel, no one would despair of attaining the summit of the mountain of Love; for Jesus does not ask great deeds, but only self-surrender and gratitude.

20-Jesus deigned to show me the one way leading to this Divine furnace of Love. This way is the self-surrender of a little child who sleeps without fear in the arms of its father.

21-O Jesus, my Divine Spouse, grant that my baptismal robe may never be stained; take me from this life, rather than that I should sully my soul by committing the slightest voluntary fault.

22-O Jesus, I feel, that, if by an impossibility You could find a soul weaker than mine, You would fill it with even greater graces, provided that such a soul abandoned itself with absolute confidence to Your infinite Mercy.

23-I can demand nothing with fervor, except the perfect accomplishment of God’s will in my soul.

24-I try to be no longer concerned about myself, and what Jesus deigns to do in my soul, I leave unreservedly to Him.

25Since I belong to Jesus as His little plaything, to console Him and give Him pleasure, I should not oblige Him to do my will instead of His own.

26-O my God, I wish to console Thee for the ingratitude of wicked men, and I beg Thee to take away from me the liberty to displease Thee.

27-O my Beloved, I offer myself to You, that You may perfectly accomplish in me Your holy designs, and I will not allow anything created to be an obstacle in their path.

28-When we are expecting nothing but suffering, we are quite surprised at the least joy; but then suffering itself becomes the greatest of joys when we seek it as a precious treasure. (Feast of St. Paul of the Cross.)

29-I will spend my Heaven doing good upon earth. This is not impossible, since the angels, though always enjoying the beatific vision, watch over us. No, I cannot be at rest until the end of the world. (Beatification of St. Therese, April 29, 1923.)

30-I fear only one thing-to keep my own will; take it, my God, for I choose all that You choose.

MAY

“For she is the brightness of eternal light: and the unspotted mirror of God’s majesty, and the image of His goodness.” (Wis. vii. 26.)

1-My dear Mother Mary, I think that I am more happy than you. I have you as a Mother and you haven’t the Blessed Virgin to love as I have.

2*-My heart sighs for You, O Jesus. My one desire is to possess You, my God.

3-O how large my heart seems when I compare it with the goods of this world, since altogether they cannot satisfy it. But when I compare it with Jesus, how small it seems.

4-To keep the word of Jesus 9 is the one condition of our happiness, the proof of our love for Him. And this Word is Himself since He is called the Logos or Uncreated Word of the Father.10

5-Christ wishes that I love Him because He has forgiven me, not much,11 but all.

6-Let us love, since that is all our hearts were made for.

7-I imagine my soul as a piece of waste ground, and I ask the Blessed Virgin to take away from it all the rubbish, that is, all the imperfections.

8-I love You, my Jesus, and I give myself to You forever. (St. Therese makes her First Communion, May 8, 1884.)

9-I do not wish to be troubled with passing things. My Beloved will take the place of all these. I wish to walk in the groves of His Love, where no one can intrude.

10*-O sparkling nature, if I did not see God in you, you would be naught but a great tomb.

11*-Jesus, Thou art the Star which leads me on; Thou knowest that Thy dear Face is my Heaven here below.

12*-In Heaven I shall live amid joy since all trial will be gone forever, but here below I must live by love.

13-Then I cried that willingly would I be plunged into hell, that place of torments and blasphemies, in order that God be loved there forever. This could not bring Him glory, but when we love, we are bound to say many foolish things.

14-If, by an impossibility, the good God Himself did not see my good deeds I would not be grieved. I love Him so much that I wish to give Him pleasure, even without Him knowing that it is I.

15-Therese, the little spouse of Jesus, loves Jesus for Himself.

16*-O Jesus, may I one day die of Thy Love.

17-I have never given to the good God anything but love; He will return that love. After my death I will let fall a shower of roses. (Canonization of St. Therese, May 17, 1925.)

18-Jesus helps us without seeming to do so, and the tears which sinners make Him shed are dried by our poor feeble love.

19-A soul in the state of grace has no fear of the demons who are cowards-ready to flee before the glance of a child.

20-I know that love strengthens every vocation, that love is everything, that it embraces all times and all places, because it is eternal.

21-I am so convinced that love is the only thing capable of making us pleasing to the good God, that this love is the one treasure I desire.

22*-TO LIVE BY LOVE IS TO IMITATE MARY MAGDALENE, BATHING THY FEET WITH TEARS AND PERFUME, KISSING THEM LOVINGLY AND DRYING THEM WITH HER BEAUTIFUL HAIR.12

23-Our Beloved does not need our brilliant deeds nor our beautiful thoughts. If He wanted sublime concepts, has He not the angels, who surpass in knowledge the greatest geniuses of the world?

24-It is so sweet to call the good God “Our Father.”

25-Yes, in spite of my littleness, I am not afraid to gaze at the Divine Sun of Love, and I long to approach Him

26-O MY GOD, TRULY “LOVE IS ONLY REPAID BY LOVE.”13 THEREFORE I HAVE SOUGHT AND FOUND THE ONLY WAY TO SOLACE MY HEART-BY RETURNING YOU LOVE FOR LOVE.

27-The good God has given me a heart so faithful, that when it has once loved, it loves for ever.

28*-Thou alone can satisfy my soul, O Jesus, for I must love Thee for all eternity.

29-I know only one thing-to love You, O Jesus.

30-You ask how to obtain perfection. I know but one way-Love.

31*-O Virgin Mary, change my heart into a beautiful pure corporal, to receive that white Host in which our sweet Lamb hides Himself. (Feast of the Blessed Virgin, Mother of Fair Love.)

9 Cf. Luke xi. 28. 10 John i 1. 11 Luke vii. 47. 12 John xi. 3. 13 St. John of the Cross.

JUNE

“The chalice of benediction, which we bless, is it not the communion of the blood of Christ? And the bread which we break, is it not the partaking of the body of the Lord?” (1 Cor. x. 16.)

1How little known is the great and merciful Love of the Heart of Jesus. The fact is that to enjoy this treasure we must be humble and recognize our nothingness and that is just what many people will not do.

2*-Give me a thousand hearts, that I may love Thee; but even these are not enough, O Supreme Beauty. In order that I may love Thee, give me Thy Sacred Heart Itself.

3-Remember that the dear Jesus is there in the Tabernacle expressly for you, for you alone. Remember that He is consumed with a desire to come into your heart.

4*-O how I love Jesus, who comes in the Host to unite Himself to my enraptured soul.

5-Since this second visit of our Lord, to receive Him was my one desire. This was allowed me on all the great feasts, but alas, how far apart did these feasts seem to me.

6-Your love has gone before me since my babyhood. It grew as I grew and now it is an abyss, whose depths I cannot plumb.

7*-O my Divine Savior, I can sleep on Thy Heart, for it belongs to me.

8-I especially liked processions of the Blessed Sacrament. What a joy to strew flowers in front of the good God. But before letting them fall to the ground, I threw them as high as I could, and I was never so happy as when I saw one of my rose petals touch the Sacred Monstrance.

9-I besought Jesus to draw me into the flames of His Love and to unite me so closely to Himself, that He might live and act in me.

(St. Therese offers herself as a victim of Divine Love, June 9, 1895.)

10*-For my sake Thou livest hidden in the Host; for Thy sake I too wish to be hidden O Jesus.

11-For a long time Jesus and little Therese had looked at each other and understood. The day of my First Communion, our meeting could not be called a mere glance; it was a fusion.

12*-O Jesus, the golden ciborium that You desire above all others, is myself.

13*-Keep my heart pure, shield me with Thy presence, just for today.

14-How much benefit have I received from the beauties of nature, bestowed in such abundance. How they raise me to Him who placed such wonders in this land of exile which is only to last a day.

15*-I only desire to receive Thy dear glance, O Jesus. I wish to smile always, resting on Thy Heart.

16*-Thou knowest well that my one martyrdom is Thy Love, O Sacred Heart of Jesus.

17-I cannot receive Holy Communion as often as I wish, but O Lord, art not Thou all powerful? Remain in my heart as in the Tabernacle and never leave Thy little victim.

18*-Yes, Jesus wishes to make a palace in your heart.

19–1t is wrong to spend one’s time in useless worries, instead of reposing on the Heart of Jesus.

20-When the enemy troubles me, I behave like a soldier. Knowing that it is cowardly to fight a duel, I turn my back upon the enemy. Then I turn to my Jesus and tell Him that I am ready to shed every drop of my blood to confess that Heaven really exists.

21*-My Heaven is hidden in the tiny Host, where Jesus my Spouse veils Himself for love of me.

22-Only self-surrender can place me in Thy arms, O Jesus. It is this virtue which makes me feed on the bread of Love reserved for Thy chosen ones.

23-When the demon succeeds in keeping a soul from Communion, he has gained everything and Jesus weeps.

24*-I wish to smile, resting on Thy Heart and there tell Thee again and again that I love Thee, O my Lord.

25*-Thy Heart which preserves my innocence, could not disappoint my confidence. In Thee O Lord I place my hope that after this exile. I shall see Thee in Heaven.

26-If through feebleness I sometimes fall, may Thy Divine glance purify my soul, consuming all my imperfections, like the fire which transforms everything into itself.

27*-You are my peace, my happiness, my only Love, O Jesus.

28-To live by love is to banish all fear, all remembrance of past faults.

29-If St. Peter had said to Jesus, “Lord, give me the courage to follow You to death,” I am certain that this courage would not have been refused him. (Feast of SS. Peter and Paul.)

30*-I know that my heart is too weak to be an apostle, but Jesus, do Thou lend me Thy Heart.

JULY

“Giving thanks to God the Father . . . who hath delivered us from the power of darkness, and hath translated us into the kingdom of the Son of His Love, in whom we have redemption through His Blood.’ (Col. i. 12–14.)

1-I resolved to remain continually, in spirit, at the foot of the Cross, to receive the Sacred Drops of Blood and then to apply them to souls. (Feast of the Precious Blood.)

2-I pour out the Blood of Jesus on souls and then I offer to Jesus these same souls refreshed by the Blood of Calvary.

3-It is not to remain in the golden ciborium that Jesus comes down from Heaven each day, but that He may find another Heaven-the Heaven of our souls.

4-How can a heart given over to human affection unite itself closely to God? I am sure that it is not possible.

5-Since the age of three I have refused the good God nothing. But I do not glory in this. Do you see how the setting sun gilds the tree-tops? Well, my soul appears to you all shining and illumined because it is exposed to the rays of Love.

6-To love Jesus and make Him loved. How sublime that is.

7-In realizing that I could do nothing of myself, my task (Mistress of Novices) became simplified. I strove only to unite myself more and more to God, knowing that the rest will be added to me.14

8-I wish that Jesus would take over my faculties so that I would never perform actions which were human and personal but actions which were divine,15 inspired and directed by the Spirit of Love.

9-It is my weakness which gives me all my strength.

10-Everything will be for Jesus-yes, everything, and even when I have nothing to offer, I shall give Him this nothing.

11-You know, O my God, that I have never wished aught but to love You alone. I desire no other glory than this.

12-Therese is glad to follow her Spouse for Himself and not for His gifts. He is so beautiful, so entrancing-even when He is silent and hides Himself from me.

13*-You know, O my God, that my only desire is to make Thee loved and one day to die a martyr of Thy Love.

14-I have another great desire-to love only the good God, and to find no joy save in Him.

15-If you wish to be a saint it is not hard. Have one aim, to please Jesus and to unite yourself more intimately to Him.

16-I beg you not to remain any longer at the feet of Jesus but to follow that first impulse which would carry you into His arms.

17-,WE CANNOT SAY AS DID PILATE, “WHAT IS TRUTH?”16 TRUTH, WE POSSESS, SINCE THE BELOVED JESUS DWELLS IN OUR HEARTS.

18-You should consider yourself as a little slave whom everyone has a right to command. (Feast of St. Camillus.)

19-Prayer is a cry of gratitude and love, in the midst of trial as well as in joy.

20-To me, prayer is a lifting up of the heart; it is a glance thrown towards Heaven.

21-Prayer is anything which elevates, anything supernatural which enlarges the soul and unites it to God.

22-When I see Magdalene wash with her tears the feet of the Master 17 whom she meets for the first time, I feel that her heart understood the abyss of Love and Mercy in the Heart of Jesus. (Feast of St. Mary Magdalene.)

23-A learned man once said, “Give me a fulcrum and a lever and I will lift the world.” The Saints have obtained what Archimedes could never obtain. The Almighty has given them a fulcrum-Himself, Himself alone; for a lever they have prayer.

24*-IT IS IN LOVING THEE, O JESUS, THAT I ATTAIN TO THE FATHER;18 MY POOR HEART KEEPS HIM FOREVER; O HOLY TRINITY, YOU ARE PRISONER OF MY LOVE.

14 Matt vi. 31. 15 Cf. Gal. ii. 20. 16 John xviii. 38. 17 Luke vii. 38. 18 Cf. John xiv. 23, 27.

25 -Jesus wishes to receive charity from us, like a poor man. He places Himself, as it were, at our mercy. He wishes to take nothing from us unless we give it freely, and our least gift is precious in His sight.

26-Just as the sun lights the great cedar and the tiny flower, so does the Divine Radiance illumine each individual soul, whether great or lowly.

27*-To live by love is to go through life, sowing peace and joy in hearts.

28-Jesus deigns to look only at the little virtues we offer to Him, and these virtues give Him consolation.

29-When we see how wretched we are we should not keep looking at ourselves, but should look on our WellBeloved Jesus.

30-I have always been satisfied with what the good God has given to me-even with the gifts which seemed less good or beautiful than those of others.

31-God has no need of anyone to carry out His work of sanctification, but just as He allows a skillful gardener to raise rare and delicate plants, so does He wish to be aided in sanctifying souls.

AUGUST

“Blessed are the poor in spirit: for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are the meek: for they shall possess the land.” (Matt. v. 3, 4.)

1-He who on this earth chooses to be the poorest and the most unknown for the love of our Lord, in Heaven will be the first, the noblest and the richest.

2-It is enough if we desire to be victims of love, but we must be willing to remain poor and weak-and that is the difficulty.

3-While on this earth, we must be attached to nothing, not even to the most innocent things; for they will fail us when we least expect it.

4-THE ONLY PLACE NOT LIABLE TO ENVY IS THE LAST PLACE.19 IN THIS LAST PLACE THERE IS NO VANITY NOR AFFLICTION OF SPIRIT.

5-I know that Jesus would rather see you stumbling along by night, over a rocky path, than in daylight, over a path covered with flowers, because the flowers might hold you back.

6-Believe me-to write books of piety, to compose sublime poems, all this is not worth as much as the smallest act of renunciation.

7-Make to the good God the sacrifice of never gathering the fruit-that is, to feel all your life a repugnance to suffering and humiliation, to see the flowers of your desires and good will fall to the ground without producing anything.

8-Only that which is eternal can satisfy us.

9-May I always seek and find Thee, my God. May creatures be nothing to me, and I nothing to them.

10-I will love God alone and will not have the misfortune of attaching myself to creatures, now that my heart perceives what He has in store for those who love Him.

11-Jesus made me understand that the only true glory is that which shall last forever.

12-To love Jesus, to be His victim of love, the more weak and wretched we are, the more fitted we are for the operations of this consuming and transforming love.

13-The remembrance of my faults humbles me and makes me afraid to rely on my own strength, which is nothing but weakness.

14-Let us avoid all display; let us love our lowliness; let us be affected by nothing. Then we shall be poor in spirit and Jesus will come to seek us.

15-Jesus made me understand that only in obedience was I pleasing to Him.

16-It is so sweet to serve the good God in darkness and in trial, for we have only this life to live by faith.

17-If you are nothing, do you forget that Jesus is everything? You have only to lose your nothingness in His Infinity and think only of loving Him.

18-Yes, even if I had on my conscience every possible crime, I should lose none of my confidence; my heart breaking with sorrow, I should go and throw myself into the arms of my Savior.

19 Cf. Luke xiv. 10

19 -When we commit a fault, we should never attribute it to a physical cause such as sickness or the weather, but we should confess that this fall was due to our lack of perfection-though without ever getting discouraged.

20-It is enough to humble ourselves, to bear patiently our imperfections. There lies true sanctity for us.

21-”When I think how much I have to acquire!” said a Sister to St. Therese. “Say rather ‘to lose,’ for Jesus has charge of filling your soul with virtues as fast as you will get rid of the imperfections.”

22-O let us profit by the short moment of life. Let us give pleasure to Jesus; let us save souls for Him by our sacrifices. Above all, let us be lowly-so lowly that the world can tread us under foot without us appearing to notice it.

23-THIS THE WAY WITH OUR LORD. HE GIVES AS GOD, BUT HE WISHES US TO BE HUMBLE OF HEART.20

24-O, I wish to become very lowly, so that Jesus can rest His Head on my heart, and there He may know that He is loved and understood.

25-Let us humbly range ourselves among the imperfect; let us estimate ourselves as little souls whom the good God must sustain every instant.

26-I know from experience that the only happiness on earth consists in being hidden and in absolute ignorance of created things.

27-I know that the more rapidly one advances on the way of perfection, the further he considers himself from the goal.

28-You love St. Augustine and St. Mary Magdalene, whom much was forgiven because they loved much.21 I also love them. I love their repentance and above all their loving audacity. (Feast of St. Augustine.)

29-I beseech Thee, my Divine Jesus, to send me a humiliation every time I try to place myself above others.

30-HE WHOSE KINGDOM IS NOT OF THIS WORLD,22 HAS SHOWN ME THAT THE ONLY DESIRABLE ROYALTY CONSISTS IN WISHING TO BE IGNORED AND COUNTED AS NOTHING.

31-Even when the fire of love seems dead, I still throw little straws upon the embers, and I am certain that the fire will be rekindled.

SEPTEMBER

“And this commandment we have from God, that he, who loveth God, love also his brother.” (1 John iv. 21.) 1-The principal plenary indulgence, and one that anybody can gain without the usual conditions, is the indulgence

OF CHARITY WHICH COVERS A MULTITUDE OF SINS. 23

2-Nothing is sweeter than to think well of one’s neighbor.

3-I seek little happenings, nothings, to give pleasure to my Jesus, for example, a smile, a kind word, when I would rather be silent or show no interest.

4-Now I see that true charity consists in bearing with all the faults of our neighbor, in not being surprised at his weaknesses, in being edified at his least virtues.

5-The good God will do everything I wish in Heaven, because I have never followed my own will on earth.

6*-To die of love is a very beautiful martyrdom. It is the one which I wish to suffer.

7-It is God’s will, that while on this earth, souls should share their heavenly gifts by prayer, so that when they reach their home in Heaven, they can love each other with a grateful love, with an affection higher than that of the most perfect human family.

8-Nothing renders community life more unhappy than unevenness of disposition.

9-In giving itself to God, the heart loses none of its natural tenderness. On the contrary, this tenderness increases as it becomes more and more divine.

10-Yes, I love my family very much. I cannot understand saints who did not love their families.

11-The death of love that I desire, is the death of Jesus on the Cross.

12-Let us work together for the salvation of souls. We have only the day of this life to save souls and to give them to the Lord as proofs of our love.

13-It is such a joy to help Jesus save souls which He has purchased with His Blood, for they are only waiting for

20 Matt. xi. 29. 21 Luke vii. 47. 22 John xviii. 36. 23 I Peter iv. 8 our help to stop them from falling into the abyss.

14-We have only the short moments of this life to work for God’s glory. The devil knows this, and that is why he tries to make us waste time in useless things.

15-I wish to give my Beloved to drink. I feel myself consumed with thirst for souls and I wish at any price to snatch sinners from the eternal flames.

16*-In spite of my littleness I can give to God my most tender affection.

17*-Thy Love is my martyrdom. The more I feel it burn within me, the more I desire Thee. Jesus grant that I may die of love for Thee.

18-One word or a pleasing smile is often enough to raise up a saddened and wounded soul. 19-Yes, it is the Lord, it is Jesus, who will judge me; and to make His judgment favorable, or rather, not to be judged at all, since He said, “Judge not and you will not be judged,”24 I wish always to think charitably of others. 20-We are not bound to be justices of peace, but we are bound to be angels of peace.25

21 *-O Guardian Angel, cover me with thy wing; O Friend, illumine my path; direct my footsteps and be my protection-just for today.

22-O my dearest Star, yes, I am glad to feel that, in Thy presence, I am lowly and frail, and thus my heart is in peace.

23-O my God, even if You did not know it, I would still be glad to suffer, hoping that by my tears, I might prevent, or atone for, a single fault against faith.

24-I cannot be downcast, since in everything that happens to me, I see the loving Hand of Jesus. I cannot be downcast, since in everything that happens to me, I see the loving Hand of Jesus. -1 too have distractions, but as soon as I perceive the distraction, I pray for the persons who come into my imagination, and so they draw benefit from my distractions.

26-The most sublime inspirations are nothing without works.

27-When I am charitable, it is Jesus alone who acts through me; the more I am united to Him, the more do I love all my sisters.

28*-To live by love is my Heaven, my destiny.

29*-Remember, O Jesus, that I entered Carmel in order to bring souls to Thy Kingdom of Heaven. 30-O, I would not wish to have suffered less. (Then looking at her Crucifix) O, I LOVE HIM-MY GOD, I

LOVE YOU. (Death of St. Therese, September 30, 1897.)

OCTOBER

“Amen, I say to you: whosoever shall not receive the kingdom of God as a child shall not enter into it.” (Luke xviii.

17.)

1-I feel that my mission is only beginning; my mission to make the good God loved as I love Him, to give my little way to souls.

2*-O beautiful Angel Guardian, you stay with me on this earth, enlightening me with your splendor. You are become my brother, my friend and my consoler. (Feast of the Guardian Angels.)

3-Some one asked St. Therese by what name they should pray to her when she reached Heaven. “You may call me Little Therese,” she replied. (Feast of St. Therese.)

4-The poorer you are the more Jesus will love you. (Feast of St. Francis of Assisi.)

5-I am too little to do great things, but in my excess of love, I hope that Thy Love, O Jesus, will accept me as a victim.

6-Therese felt herself so feeble, so weak that she wished to be united forever to Divine Strength Itself. 7-I should be sad at sleeping so often during prayers and thanksgiving. Well, I am not. I recall that little children, when asleep, are just as pleasing to their parents as when they are awake.

8-JESUS SEEKS NEITHER ABILITIES NOR TALENTS HERE BELOW. HE MADE HIMSELF THE “FLOWER OF THE FIELD,” 26 JUST TO SHOW us how He esteems simplicity.

9-Instead of becoming discouraged, I say to myself, “The good God does not inspire us with desires which could

24 Luke vi. 37. 25 Cf. Luke xii. 14. 26 Canticle of Canticles ii. 1. not be realized. Therefore, in spite of my lowliness, I can aspire to sanctity.”

10-The lift which shall raise me to Heaven is Thy arms, O Jesus. That this may be so, I do not need to become greater. I must remain little and become even more lowly.

11-To come near to Jesus, we must be very little. O how few are the souls who aspire to be lowly and unknown. 12-To be little is to recognize one’s nothingness, to expect everything from God as a little child expects everything of its father.

13-To be little is not to be discouraged at our faults, for children fall often, but they are too small to hurt themselves very much.

14-I understand that the Love of our Lord reveals itself just as well in the simple soul, who makes no resistance to

His grace, as in the most sublime soul.

15-A long time ago I offered myself to the Infant Jesus, to be His little plaything. I asked Him to use me, not as a costly toy that children can only look at, and dare not touch, but as a little ball of no worth, which He could throw on the ground, kick about, leave in a corner, or press tightly to His Heart.

16-Far from resembling those beautiful saints who practised all sorts of austerities from childhood, my penance consisted in breaking my self-will, in keeping back a sharp reply, in doing little kindnesses to those about me, but considering these deeds as nothing.

17-Ought not the good God, who is infinitely just and pardons so mercifully the Prodigal Son-ought He not be

JUST TOWARDS ME, WHO “AM ALWAYS WITH HIM”?27

18-I have no other way to prove my love for You, O Jesus, but to throw flowers-that is, to let no sacrifice, word or glance, escape; to draw profit from the smallest deeds and to do them for love.

19-You see that I am a very little soul, who has nothing to offer to the good God but very little things. 20-Jesus, because of my very weakness. You have deigned to grant my childish requests, and You are willing to grant all my desires, though they be greater than the whole world.

21-I wish to show souls the little ways that have succeeded so well in my case, to tell them that there is only one thing to do here below. That is to cast before Jesus the flowers of little sacrifices, to captivate Him by caresses. That is how I have acted and that is why I shall be so well received in Heaven.

22-In my little way there are only very ordinary things. It is necessary that, what I do, little souls may be able to do also.

23-I keep always little, having no other occupation but gathering flowers of love and sacrifice and offering them to God, in order to give Him pleasure.

24-I am too little to be condemned. Little children are not sent to hell.

25-I am only a weak and feeble child, but it is my very weakness which makes me dare to offer myself as a victim to Your Love, O my Jesus.

26-If we had to do great deeds we should have reason to be pitied. But how happy we are because Jesus lets

Himself be captivated by very little things.

27-The only means of making rapid progress on the way of love, is to remain always very little. 28-We must practise the little virtues. This is sometimes difficult to do, but the good God will never refuse the first grace which gives courage to conquer self.

29-I find it very easy to strive for perfection because I have found out that we must captivate Jesus through His

Heart.

30-”You will look down from Heaven on us, won’t you?” someone asked St. Therese. “O no, I will come down.” 31-I beg Thee, O Jesus, to cast Thy divine glance on a great number of little souls. I beg Thee to choose in this world a legion of little victims, worthy of Thy Love.

NOVEMBER

“But the souls of the just are in the hands of God, and the torments of death shall not touch them—And though in the sight of men they suffered torments, their hope is full of immortality.” (Wis. iii. 1, 4.)

27 Luke xv. 31.

1 -It says in the catechism that death is nothing but the separation of soul and body. Well, I have no fear of a separation which will unite me forever with the good God. (Feast of All Saints.)

2-IF I GO TO PURGATORY, I WILL WALK IN THE MIDST OF THE FLAMES, LIKE THE THREE HEBREW CHILDREN IN THE FURNACE, SINGING THE CANTICLE OF LOVE.28 (ALL SOULS’ DAY.)

3-No it will not be death that will come for me. It will be the good God. Death is not a phantom, a horrible spectre, as it is represented in pictures.

4-”The eye of man has not seen the uncreated light, nor the ear has not heard the incomparable melodies of Heaven, and his heart cannot comprehend what is reserved for him in the future.”29 And all this will come soon-yes, very soon, if we love Jesus with all our strength.

5-No, I am not afraid of Purgatory. I know that I am not even worthy to enter that place of expiation with those holy souls, but I know also that the fire of Love is more sanctifying than the fire of Purgatory.

6*-After this exile there will be no more suffering, only heavenly peace. No more faith or hope, only peace and an ecstasy of love.

7-The tomorrow of this life will be eternity. Then Jesus will repay you a hundredfold for the joys you have sacrificed to Him.

8-Ah, how happy I should be at the moment of death, if I had one soul to offer to Jesus. There would be one soul less in hell, one more soul to bless the good God for all eternity.

9-Jesus holds out His hand to us in order to receive a little love, so that on that radiant Judgment Day, this Savior may be able to greet us with the ineffable words-”Come, ye blessed of My Father; for I was hungry and you gave Me to eat, thirsty and you gave Me to drink.”30

10-The one thing I wish is to make others love the good God and, if I cannot do this in Heaven. I am sure that I shall love this exile more than Heaven itself.

11-I am not dying. I am entering into life, and all that I say to you here, I will make you understand when I am in Heaven.

12-What attracts me to the Kingdom of Heaven is the call of our Lord, the hope of loving Him as I have so desired and the thought that I shall be able to make Him loved by a great number of souls who will bless Him forever.

13- I shall be happy to die because I shall be able to help souls who are dear to me, far more than I can here below.

14-I do not intend to remain inactive in Heaven. I want to work for the Church and for souls. I have asked this of God and I am certain that He will grant my request.

15-I shall desire in Heaven the same thing as on earth-to love Jesus and make Him loved.

16-If you could see the Angels, who from Heaven are watching us fight in the arena! They only await the end of the strife to bestow on us flowers and crowns.

17-Had I not experienced it, I could not believe it, but I think I could die for very joy at the thought that soon I am to leave this earth.

18-It seems to me that resignation is needed to live. I feel nothing but joy when I think of dying.

19-Life is not sad; it is very joyous. If you say, “This exile is sad,” I understand you. We are wrong to give the name “life” to something which will end; it is only to the things of Heaven that we should apply this beautiful name.

20*-In order to contemplate Thy glory, we must pass through fire. I choose for my Purgatory Thy burning Love, O Heart of my God.

21-I think that all missionaries are martyrs by desire and will, and that, consequently, not one of them should go to Purgatory.

22*-Cecilia, lend me your sweet melodies. I want to convert souls to Jesus. Like you I want to sacrifice my life. I want to give to Jesus my blood and my tears. (Feast of St. Cecilia.)

23-A Sister spoke to St. Therese of the happiness of Heaven. She interrupted her, saying: “That is not what attracts me.” “What is it then?” asked the Sister. “O it is Love. To love and be loved and come back to earth to make Love loved.”

28 Dan. iii. 29 Cf. Isaias lxiv. 4. 30 Matt. XIV. 34.

24 -True, I am not always faithful, but I do not get discouraged. I place myself in the arms of the Lord and He teaches me to “draw profit from everything, good or bad, that He finds in me.”31 (Feast of St. John of the Cross.)

25-Jesus, may I die a martyr for You. Give me martyrdom of the soul or of the body. Ah, rather give me both.

26-The good God does not need years to do His work of Love in a soul. One ray from His Heart can, in an instant, cause a soul to blossom forth for all eternity.

27-”In Heaven you will be among the Seraphim,” someone said to St. Therese. “If that happens, I won’t imitate them when they cover themselves with their wings before the sight of God.32 I will take care not to do that.”

28-Since I have tried to be a little child, I have no preparations to make for death. Jesus Himself will pay my expenses and the entrance-fee into Heaven.

29-How can God purify in the flames of Purgatory souls who are consumed by the fires of Divine Love?

30-If there is a mansion in Heaven33 for great souls, for the Fathers of the Desert and for martyrs who were penitents, surely there is one for little children. Our place is waiting there if we love our Lord-Him and our heavenly Father and the Spirit of Love.

DECEMBER

“Rejoice in the Lord always: again I say, rejoice . . . and the peace of God which surpasseth all understanding, keep your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus.” (Phil. iv. 4, 7.)

1-Jesus loves joyous hearts. He loves a soul that is always smiling.

2-If our sacrifices captivate Jesus, so do our joys; but our happiness must not be self- centered. We must offer to our Spouse the little joys that He sows along the way of life in order to take our hearts and lift them up to Himself.

3-The countenance is a reflection of the soul. You should always have a calm and serene countenance, like a little child who is always happy.

4*-My one happiness is to love Thee, O Jesus.

5*-Smile always here below. Jesus seems to tell you, that when you smile at a Sister, you are smiling at His spouse and this will dry His tears.

6-When I suffer greatly, or when something painful or disagreeable happens, instead of taking it sadly, I receive it with a smile.

7-I experience great joy, not only when I am imperfect, but above all, when I feel that I am.

8-To be lowly is not to take credit for the virtues we practise, but to recognize that God places this treasure of virtue in the hands of His child, to make use of as He wishes; but it is always the treasure of the good God.

9-All the most beautiful discourses could not cause one act of Love to be made, without the grace which touches the heart.

10-Ah, how happy does the Lord make me. How easy and sweet it is to serve Him. He has always given me what I wished, or rather, He has made me wish for what He wanted to give me.

11*-My peace consists in remaining little, and when I fall by the way, I pick myself up as quickly as possible and Jesus takes me by the hand.

12-Sometimes, when I read books which say perfection is reached only after conquering a thousand obstacles, my poor soul gets tired. I close the learned book which makes my head ache and dries up my heart.

13-When I read the Scriptures everything seems clear. A single word shows my soul an infinite vision. Perfection seems easy to me. I see that it is enough to recognize our nothingness and to abandon ourselves, like little children, into the arms of the good God.

14-I cannot perform brilliant works; I cannot preach the Gospel or shed my blood. But what matter? My brothers work in place of me, and I, a little child, keep very close to the royal throne. I love for those who are carrying on the warfare. (St. Therese is declared Patroness of the Missions, equally with S. Francis Xavier, December 14, 1927.)

15-He whose Heart is ever watching,34 taught me that for a soul whose faith is as a grain of mustard seed, He works miracles, in order to strengthen this faith; but that for His intimates, for His mother,35 He did not work miracles 31 St. John of the Cross. 32 Cf. Isaias vi. 2. 33 John xiv. 2. 34 Canticle of Canticles v. 2. 35 John ii. lff. until He had tried their faith.

16-I COUNT ON THE ANGELS AND SAINTS THAT I MAY FLY UP TO THEE WITH THY OWN WINGS, O JESUS MY ADORABLE EAGLE.36

17-The only grace I ask, O Jesus, is never to offend Thee.

18*-My deeds, my little sufferings, can make God loved all over the world.

19-If the great shadows come and hide the Star of Love; if I seem not to believe in anything but the existence of the night of this life-then shall be the moment of perfect joy, knowing that behind the dark clouds my beloved Sun still shines.

20*-My Well-Beloved, O Beauty Supreme, Thou hast given Thyself to me. In return, O Jesus, I love Thee. Make of my life one single act of Love.

21-What Therese values, what alone she wishes for, is to give pleasure to Jesus.

22*-My Heaven is to smile at the God I adore, when He wishes to hide in order to try my faith, to smile until He will again look down on me.

23-Ah, I know well, joy is not in the things which surround us; it dwells in the innermost soul.

24-My way is a way of trust and love. I do not understand souls who are afraid of such a tender Friend.

25-O, how I wish to love Jesus, to love Him passionately, to give Him a thousand tokens of love, while I am still able. (Christmas Day.)

26*-The little Jesus demands only a sweet caress from you. Give Him your love.

27*-O what a mystery; my feeble love can enthrall Thee, my Lord.

28*-O King of the Elect, my place in Heaven is among the Holy Innocents. Like them, O Jesus, I will kiss Thy sweet Face.

(Feast of the Holy Innocents.)

29-At this moment, when I am soon to appear before the good God, I realize more and more that one thing alone is necessary-to work only for Him and to do nothing purely for self or for creatures.

30-I do not count on my own merits, since I have none, but I trust in Him who is Virtue and Sanctity Itself.

31-There is only one thing to do here below-love Jesus and save souls for Him, so that He may be more loved.

36 Cf. Is. xl. 31.

Nihil Obstat:

ARTHUR J. SCANLAN. S.T.D., Censor Librorum.

Imprimatur:

@ PATRICK CARDINAL HAYES Archbishop, New York.

New York, September 11, 1931.

********

Damien Parer

A UNIQUE AUSTRALIAN

BY BERNARD HOSIE, S.M

INDEX

A MAN OF PRAYER

Prayer was as natural to Damien as breathing. He would kneel for his morning and evening prayers in the most unlikely places and at the most unlikely times. Beside a slit trench in the western desert. In a hotel room in Cairo. In a tent, while his comrades drank beer and told army stories. In a tree in New Guinea, from which he was filming a Japanese airstrip.

On one occasion he was filming the destruction of a Greek village by German Stukas. He lay full length, feverishly recording the horrors below him and his companion could hear his prayer: “Holy Mother of God, save the poor bastards!” It was an unconventional prayer- but Parer was an unconventional man and no one would doubt its sincerity. It was almost his last prayer, in fact. One of the bombs fell short, almost on top of Parer and his friend Ron Williams. Williams recovered consciousness to find his body pressed to the earth, with Parer protecting him with his own body.

PRAYER IN ACTION

But for Parer, prayer was not just the time when he was on his knees speaking to God. He was deeply conscious of the fact that his work itself was a prayer; that done well it was something that pleased God and brought him closer to God. Brought up in a Catholic family, educated in Catholic schools, associated with the first beginnings of Catholic Action in Australia, he knew well that “to work is to pray.”

His close friend and fellow war correspondent regards this as the very key to an understanding of the character of Parer:

“Parer’s genius—the quality which made of him a great, instead of merely a brilliantly effective, cameraman- was the product of his unwavering devotion to the Roman Catholic faith. Materialists will deride this finding, but nobody who knew Parer will question it; although I did not share his faith, I recognized it for the source of his strength. As Brother Barnabas, the ex-juggler in Anatole France’s story “The Juggler of Notre Dame” made his devotions to the Virgin by juggling brass balls and knives before the altar, so Parer made his devotions with a camera.”*

EVERYBODY’S FRIEND

Parer was intensely interested in everyone he met; he was everyone’s friend. This flowed in no small measure from his Faith; he saw others as children of God, as his brothers in Christ. Damien was above all a christian and love for others is the basic Christian virtue-without it christianity is only a sham.

Barriers of language, race, religion, or anything else meant nothing to Damien; his devastating charm cut across those in an instant. Ron Maslyn Williams, his life long friend, and a fellow war correspondent in the Middle East, describes Parer in Greece:

“It was a wonderful fortnight. Parer fell in love with Greece. He was never still for a moment. Soon he seemed to know everyone in Athens. After attending Mass every morning we usually lunched, in their canteen, with Greek soldiers, with whom Damien instantly made friends. Whenever Damien saw a beautiful girl in a café or restaurant (and there were many in Athens in those days) he’d instruct me to introduce him. Protests were of no avail-I simply had to get up, approach the girl, apologize for my rudeness and explain that a young Australian wanted to meet her. One look at Damien and it invariably worked. And in the evenings, invited to their homes, Damien was like a fountain. Sitting on the floor, surrounded by beautiful women, everything poured out in great gusts of enthusiasm. A book he had been reading, a picture he’d seen, the Parthenon at sunset- even if he didn’t know anything about the subject, great streams of breathless sentences gushed from Damien to the obvious delight of his audience. We had friends everywhere.”

*”Australians-Nine Profiles,” by John Hetherington (Cheshire), p. 108.

We had friends everywhere. It sums up Parer’s whole life. And surely this stemmed from the fact that his first and greatest friend was always Christ- and the Mother of Christ whom he loved so dearly.

THE MAN WITH THE PURE HEART

His bubbling personality and his slender olive-skinned good looks made Parer extremely attractive to women. He liked their company, as Williams rather ruefully relates, but never relaxed his Catholic ideals of purity. John Hetherington speaks of his “untouchability,” and says that Damien “hardly seemed aware” of the interest that women had in him.

FAMILY BACKGROUND

Damien inherited his intense Catholic faith both from his Spanish-born father and his Australian mother- whose blood was all Irish. He inherited from his father his spiritual, artistic and creative insight- as well as a passion for gambling. His father made several trips to Monte Carlo convinced he was going to make his fortune. From his Irish side came the gift of laughter, the indifference to material things, courage that at times bordered on the reckless.

His passion for gambling and his complete indifference to whether he won or lost, were proverbial among his fellow correspondents. He earned only ten pounds a week, but he would gamble five pounds on the turn of a card and roar with laughter if he lost. He was always most careful about settling his debts—but never noticed at all if he was not paid money that was owed to him.

Hetherington sees all this a part of Parer’s unworldliness. “He did not only appear to care nothing for wealth and social position, he did, in fact, care nothing for these things.” Surely we have here something of that indifference to worldly things which is the mark of one who is uninterested in treasure in this world, for he has his treasure elsewhere.

BOYHOOD

Damien spent the first six years of his life on King Island between Tasmania and the mainland, where his father was running a hotel. Then the family shifted to Albury in N.S.W., and later to Melbourne-his father was always something of a wanderer. Damien began his education at St. Aloysius College at Portland, then continued at St. Stanislaus, Bathurst, and finished at C.B.C., St. Kilda.

When he was twelve Damien was given a box camera by an old family nursemaid and his interest in photography never flagged from then on. He was no great scholar at school and his school work was not helped by the fact that he spent every spare minute reading and studying about photography. He left school at seventeen and was apprenticed to a photographer.

GOD AND A CAMERA

1929 was not a good year to leave school and Parer faced a decade of struggle. He soon became interested in movie work and in 1933 had a small, part-time job with Charles Chauvel on the movie “Heritage.” Chauvel was impressed with his enthusiasm and ideas.

He moved to Sydney in 1933 and went through a period of real, grinding poverty. His food usually consisted of meat pies, warmed up at the gas-flame in the studio, and ginger beer or milk. But he was happy for he was still working at photography and that for him spelt happiness.

One incident from this period is worth mentioning. Parer joined a hiking club of Catholic young men and women. A party of club members were caught in a violent storm one day while they were walking through the bush. Parer stripped naked, wrapped his clothes about his precious camera and took shelter under a huge old gum tree. Then he knelt in the pouring rain, while lightning flashed and thunder rolled and recited the rosary.

Is it too far-fetched to see something symbolic in this? Parer, stripped of everything except his camera and his God, sheltering under a gum tree. Parer the cameraman; Parer the man of God; Parer the patriot.

Chauvel employed Parer on several more films and he profited much in experience. In the late 1930s he made two short films himself. Typically, they were based on poems by Paterson and Lawson; Parer, himself intensely patriotic, was fascinated by the patriotism of these two poets and tried to transfer some of it to the screen. WAR

Parer was again working with Chauvel on “Forty Thousand Horsemen” when war broke out. A chance vacancy gave him the opportunity to join the A.I.F. as a photographer and he sailed with the first contingent of the A.I.F. He scarcely had time to buy a uniform before he sailed.

Parer was incredibly untidy in his own person and incredibly careful when it came to his camera equipment. These qualities are well illustrated by John Hetherington’s story of his first meeting with Parer. He was on the same troopship and went along to introduce himself. He found Parer’s cabin a scene of unsurpassed chaos.

“Cameras, flashguns, bulbs, light-meters, tripods and other items of photographic equipment covered nearly every inch of the floor and even the counterpane on the bunk. A man, with a narrow olive-skinned face, like some Spanish saint, and a mop of uncombed black hair sat, cross-legged on the floor at the heart of the disorder. He wore a khaki shirt, but no other clothing. In his left hand he held a camera lens and in his right hand a tissue which he was using to polish the lens. I introduced myself and a great welcoming smile lit his face.

“‘Well, it’s nice of you to call,’ he said. ‘I’m just trying to get this bloody muddle straight. Come in!’ “I closed the door behind me and picked my way through the maze of fragile stuff underfoot. Parer did not rise; he went on polishing the lens, passing the tissue over and over its gleaming surface with the loving care of some ancient jeweller preparing a gem for an oriental potentate’s crown. At last he raised the lens to the light and slowly oscillated it before his reverent eyes. Then he handed it to me. ‘Take a look at that,’ he said. ‘Isn’t she a bloody little beaut’!*

He carried this untidiness over into his life as a soldier. It was rare for Parer to have the buttons of his jacket done up; rarer still for him to have a cap. Once in Palestine he was filming an infantry battalion exercising. He was hatless, barefooted and his shirt tails fluttered in the breeze. The colonel was horrified.

“For God’s sake, mane” he snapped, “tuck your shirt in. You look like a Wog.”

Parer grinned apologetically, put down his camera, tucked in his shirt and got back to work- still hatless and barefooted. The colonel gave up in despair.**

PARER IN ACTION

Parer went into action with the Australians in their first major offensive-on the Italian fortress at Bardia and again at Tobruk. He almost lost his life at Derna. Some miles from the town the Australians were held up by a heavily defended Italian block-house, which protected the aerodrome. The land was flat and afforded almost no cover. The cameraman decided to go in with the first wave of infantry. The Italian artillery fire was heavy and accurate and the Australian attackers were forced to the ground. Parer went down with them-but every time the chance of a good shot offered he knelt up to work his camera. He became the target for Italian shells and Australian abuse.

The attackers crawled forward on their bellies like snakes; by the time they were half-way across the aerodrome machine guns and rifles had opened up as well. Parer dived behind a milestone, the only bit of protection he could find. He could hear the bullets spattering against it, but even that did not stop him. He kept holding his camera over his head, filming whatever he could see. He spent four hours behind that flimsy shelter; time and time again it seemed that he had been killed by shellfire, but when the smoke and dust cleared away there was the camera waving impudently above the rock.

AHEAD OF THE INFANTRY

Parer’s experiences at Derna only confirmed him in the theories he had been evolving. A cameraman must get ahead of the attacking troops so that his camera can see them as the enemy sees them. Frank Legg describes it:

“His task, as he saw it, was to capture the emotions, the fears and hatreds and the ‘guts’ of men in action to ‘convey the moment of truth when a soldier charges to kill or be killed.’ This meant, of course, he was committed not only to going into action under fire with the Australians as they attacked- or stood fast in desperate defence- but actually trying to get in front of them so that his camera could see them as the enemy would.”***

His lifetime friend, Ron Williams, considers that Parer was doomed from that time forward. It was not so much a matter of whether he would be killed, but of when. The miracle is that it was more than three years before he was killed.

*”Nine Profiles,” by John Hetherington. p. 163. **/***Frank Legg, “The Eyes of Damien Parer.”

GREECE

In April, 1941, the Australian 6th Division went to Greece and Parer with them. A massive German motorized force struck through Yugoslavia and the Australian hurried north to meet them. Parer filmed the pitiful columns of refugees fleeing south. He and Williams were so close to the front line that they narrowly escaped capture. They withdrew then to cover the gallant, hopeless fight of the Australian soldiers. They filmed everything they could on the retreat. Parer usually drove-he was a wild and reckless driver-while Williams lay on the roof watching for dive bombers. When an attack was coming he banged on the roof and they both dived for the side of the road. They had one hair-breadth escape after another, but eventually reached the coast in safety.

They were lucky enough to find a place on a Greek trawler which took them to Crete. An oil tanker carried them on from there- not the safest form of transport, with the skies alive with German planes. The correspondents and pressmen sat up for thirty-eight hours playing “Slippery Sam.” Parer gambled with his usual recklessness and lost all his accumulated wages without the least concern. Williams was the winner, but as the money was in Greek currency, he gave it all away to the Egyptian children at the wharf. As the country was occupied by the Germans he believed the currency would be useless. When Blamey issued orders promising that all Greek currency would be redeemed, Parer was more amused than ever. The idea of Williams giving a fortune away was even funnier than the idea of Parer losing one!

The infectious gaiety of Parer did not mean that he was not very much alive to the horrors of war. We have already seen how he prayed as he filmed the systematic destruction of a Greek village. The fall of the gallant country left him stunned with the horror and sadness of it.

He left something of his heart in Greece. He had been deeply touched by the warm friendliness of the Greeks and he could hardly bear to think of what they had endured and still had to face. Indeed, he refused to talk about Greece, even to Ron Williams, who had shared his experiences. His heart was too big not to be moved by suffering.

SYRIA

Parer was the only Australian cameraman in Syria, just as he had been in Greece. His energy was undiminished in spite of the long months of campaigning, and he managed to be everywhere at once. We find him now on a destroyer, bombarding the French coastal strong-points; now in a bomber attacking French H.Q. in Beirut; now racing the infantry to be first into a French fortress.

In Syria he was able to test his theories about war photography—and very nearly paid with his life. At Merdjajoun he moved right into the Australian artillery barrage which preceded the attack and so was able to get some very fine pictures of the Australian infantry of the 7th Division as they attacked the Vichy French positions. Unfortunately his camera was damaged and the film destroyed by a French mortar bomb. He escaped unhurt.

One of his classic films in this campaign shows the Australians storming Fort Khiam. Leading the attack is a young Australian Bren gunner, gun at the ready and finger on the trigger; on his left are two soldiers with fixed bayonets moving rapidly across the open ground towards the fort. Just what would have happened if the French had left a rearguard is not hard to imagine. Fortunately they had not done so and Parer was able to beat the Australian troops to the fort and film them as they captured it!

Shortly after this he had his narrowest escape of the whole campaign. He and Williams were sitting outside the fort, reloading the camera, when the French opened up on them with machine guns and mortars. A bomb landed a few yards from them as an Australian soldier came running out of the fort, straight into the mortar fire. Parer and Williams carried the wounded soldier to shelter.

After the Syrian campaign Parer hurried back to the desert to film the “Rats of Tobruk.” He made two trips through “Bomb Alley” to the beleaguered fortress. At the end of 1941 he and Williams were planning to go to Teheran in the hope of crossing to Russia to film the fighting on the eastern front. Then came the news that Japan had entered the war.

BACK TO AUSTRALIA

Parer wanted nothing more than to film Australians fighting directly and immediately left for Australia and hurried back to Melbourne. He landed on March 10, 1942; he had been away twenty-six months. The Department of Information asked him to leave for the north next day! He managed to obtain two weeks respite, to repair his gear, then set out for Townsville and from there to New Guinea.

NEW GUINEA

Port Moresby was garrisoned by a handful of half-trained militiamen. Its air strength was nil. Within a few days of his arrival, Parer had filmed the biggest air raid that Moresby had experienced and sent down to the Australian people their first films of Australian territory under attack.

It seems incredible now, but the Japanese triumph had been so swift and so complete that there was at this stage only one point in the Pacific where the Japanese were being fought on the ground. This was in the Salamaua area in New Guinea, where a small force of some 400 men (“Kanga Force”) made up of a Commando unit and members of the New Guinea Volunteer Rifles, were harassing a Japanese force nearly ten times as strong. The tenuous supply line ran overland for hundreds of miles, up rivers and over wild mountain country. Parer determined to make the journey.

This time his companion was Osmar White, an Australian war correspondent. The round trip was some 700 miles, mostly on foot, over country which few white men had ever seen. Even in peacetime it would have been a terrible and dangerous journey. Not surprisingly, White found that few other correspondents were anxious to tackle the trip-until Parer arrived. Later, White was to write the story of the trip in his book “Green Armour.” He describes Parer:

“Parer had seen more real action than probably any other war correspondent. He was young, tough, keen and unshakably courageous. The more I saw of the man, the more I liked and admired him. He was long, stooped, blackheaded, sallow-faced, smiling. He had great piston-legs covered by a fuzz of black hair and ending in size twelve feet that looked as if they could crush the skull of a python. No one, however, could remain within earshot of the bubbling bass hoot that served him for a laugh without wanting to laugh too.”

JOURNEY INTO DANGER

Parer eagerly accepted the opportunity and the army gave permission. Then began a truly epic journey. They went by schooner to the mouth of the Lakekamu river and then transferred to native canoes. A major tragedy was narrowly averted when the whaleboat carrying the precious camera was almost overturned in the surf as they landed! They travelled for days up the wild, crocodile-infested river, past Stone Age villages, to Bulldog. From then on it was by foot. They joined one of the supply parties, consisting of 100 natives, each carrying a 501b. pack through the dense jungle, up a 9,000 foot mountain pass and down the other side, across rivers and through the kunai grass plains to Wau.

Bulldog was their last touch of civilization for a long time. They had a “bed” laid out on biscuit tins—to lift them out of the reach of the scorpions and death adders. One of the carriers kept moaning through the night (he had pneumonia- the scourge of the carriers) until two o’clock, when he died.

It took them two weeks to get across the mountains. Mostly they were travelling through a tunnel in the jungle and couldn’t see the sun. They sweated by day and froze by night- they soon realized why the carriers died like flies through pneumonia. It seemed to rain all the time. Several dangerously sick carriers were sent back to Bulldog- leaving more for the others to carry.

But the jungle was easy compared with the mountains. At one stage White noted that “even Parer is gloomy.” Several natives collapsed; one died of a ruptured spleen. But finally the desperately-needed supplies reached Wau.

There had not been a plane into Wau for two months. A few weeks before Parer and White had made their dreadful journey the army had sent a party of 55 tough, battle-trained commandos over the same trail. Forty-seven of them had collapsed and were hospitalized when they reached Wau. White, stricken with fever, also needed rest and medical care. Parer had a day or two to rest and to repair his camera and then set out for the front.

FAME

The next twelve months were to see a series of films from Parer which were to rocket him to world fame. A fourday journey brought him to Mubo, forward base of the commandos. He was at the front line at last.

Parer accompanied the commandos on a number of daring hit-and-run raids. As usual he was right with them as they attacked, forgetful of danger. One of his most famous films shows a small commando force raiding a Jap-held village. They crept to within 20 yards of the huts, then dashed in to attack. The film shows one of the commandos firing his Bren from the hip, while a second one hurls a home-made bomb into the hut, which disintegrates. As it does so, two tommy-gunners run forward, firing into the hut. A Japanese dashes for the jungle, but is brought down by an Australian waiting for any attempt of this kind.

OBSERVATION POST

Meanwhile the Japanese attacked Gona and White, who had rejoined Parer, was convinced that this was the prelude to an attack on Moresby, via the Kokoda trail. He determined to return via Wau and Bulldog. Parer elected to stay and the friends separated.

Parer’s next move was still further forward, to an observation post in the hills above Salamaua. Here three daring scouts watched every move the Japs made-and many of these moves were designed to wipe out the observers themselves! The last thing they wanted was a camera man, “especially a fellow who said his prayers at the most inappropriate times and places.”* But within a short time they had accepted Parer and did everything possible to help him.

The observation post was 50 feet up in a huge tree. Parer stayed there nine days, using a telephoto lens to film the Japanese on the airstrip below. He filmed planes arriving and departing; a burning troopship; Jap troops digging weapon-pits and repairing the aerodrome.

KOKODA TRAIL

Parer returned to Moresby to film one of the decisive battles of the war- at least as far as Australia was concerned. If Moresby had fallen there seems little doubt that it would have been used as the springboard for an attack on Australia. The attack was launched from Gona, via the Kokoda Trail- the “back door” to Moresby. The Australian forces, heavily outnumbered, had been retreating step by step. The supply problems were immense.

Ignoring an order from his superiors to return to Australia to make a training film, Parer hurried to the front line. He was accompanied by his old friends, Chester Wilmot and Osmar White. The track was awe inspiring. One stretch of 600 yards had taken the 39th Battalion seventeen hours to negotiate. A ridge of 2,500 feet was climbed by means of 4,000 logs. The three native carriers (rejects—the army could not afford healthy carriers) were hopeless and the 1501b. of camera equipment that Parer needed were split between the three of them. This was in addition to all their personal equipment and food for the five-day journey.

To make matters worse, Parer experienced his first attack of malaria and could scarcely stand. It rained incessantly. Wounded soldiers from these “ragged, bloody heroes” of the 39th Battalion were staggering back over the dreadful trail. The first two youngsters they met had travelled 113 miles in sixteen days; they expected to reach the hospital in five more days. This was war at its grimmest and most terrible. Inch by inch the Australian soldiers were being forced back through the blood and mud of the terrible Kokoda Trail. The increasing streams of wounded were clogging the Trail. Platoon by platoon the Australian reinforcements were being cut to pieces by the overwhelming strength of the Japanese. The Japanese forces were moving into the terrible jungle and mountains and outflanking the Australians. It was Malaya over again.

There was no choice but to withdraw. Parer threw away all his personal gear, even his spare pair of socks, so that he could carry his camera equipment. Even this was too much for the emaciated, fever-stricken man, and reluctantly he discarded bits and pieces of it until he had nothing but a movie camera and some film. He was still with the army at Toriebaiwa Ridge, where the Japanese forces were held and then slowly driven back. “Kokoda Front Line” was shown all over the world. It received an Academy Award as the Best Documentary Film of the Year, “for its effectiveness in portraying, simply and yet forcibly, the scene of war in New Guinea, and for its moving presentation of the bravery and fortitude of our Australian comrades-in-arms.”

*Frank Legg, “The Eyes of Damien Parer.”

MEN OF TIMOR

Parer went to Sydney in October, 1942, and had a whole week to recuperate before he was offered his next job—filming the Australian commandos on Timor. Three hundred of these, had, been cut off when the Japanese captured the island in February, 1942, and for many months it was thought that they were prisoners. Finally a radio monitoring station in Darwin picked up a weak signal purporting to be from them, and dramatically, their presence was made known to an incredulous world.

Their presence had long been known to the Japanese. Over the past months a series of daring raids had killed over 1,000 Jap soldiers for the loss of 26 of their own men. The Japanese had sent another division of 15,000 men to reinforce the island and to extirpate the guerrillas. They had not succeeded.

By coincidence the commander of the force, Major Bernard Callinan, was an old school friend of Parer’s but even so he was far from happy when he heard that the navy had landed a cameraman on the island. But, as usual, Parer soon won the confidence and friendship of all. A three-day walk brought him to Force H.Q.; from there he made his way to an outlying company, and finally to a platoon outpost. He filmed their patrols, their raids, their daily life- and even the commandos, when they saw the film much later in Australia, admitted that it was not as bad as they had expected anyhow!

BATTLE OF THE BISMARCK SEA

Parer was in Moresby again early in 1943 and persuaded the R.A.A.F. to allow him to fly in Beaufighters. This had its discomforts. He had to stand up and balance his camera on the pilot’s head; he invariably passed out when flying over the Owen Stanleys (at some 20,000 feet) without oxygen. He spent days around the ‘drome and made a fine documentary of the R.A.A.F. at war.

More important, he was at hand when the Japanese sent a convoy with some 10,000 soldiers to reinforce their troops in New Guinea at the end of February, 1943. He flew with “Torchy” Uren in the difficult and dangerous attack on the convoy, which inflicted on the Japanese the greatest defeat they had yet suffered and annihilated the convoy.

He made another trip in a Boston, searching for a Jap destroyer, but when they reached the reported position it was nowhere to be found. “Some cow must have sunk it,” said Parer sadly.

He was with “Torchy” Uren again on those terrible strikes when the Beaufighters set about ruthlessly to destroy the hundreds of Japs who had reached the lifeboats or rafts. It was a sickening task, but with the war in New Guinea reaching its climax, every one of those soldiers was a potential enemy that could not be ignored.

When it was over Parer had a magnificent record of one of the most important Allied victories in the Pacific war. And the R.A.A.F. had its own Parer legends to add to those of the army. “Torchy” Uren told the story of the way that Parer kept saying: “Can you get lower; can you get lower.” Uren was usually flying only a few feet above the water anyhow and finally said exasperatedly: “If I get any lower I’ll be in the bloody drink.”

ASSAULT ON SALAMAUA

In June, 1943, Parer was again at Salamaua. For months the build-up of supplies had been going on and the Australian forces were poised ready to attack. Parer spent three months with them and secured what is regarded by many as his finest film. He tramped over every inch of that country- country so terrible that even the toughest soldier moved only when he had to. The soldiers nicknamed one battlefield “Parer’s Bowl.”

He was an actor, not merely a spectator, in the attack. On one occasion, when the native carriers panicked and ran away, Parer carried 3in. mortar bombs to a forward position. When a commando was wounded in attack, Parer was the first to brave Japanese fire and help carry him out. Still again he was in a foxhole when a Japanese soldier charged them. Parer stood up, filming frantically and calling out; “Don’t shoot the bastard yet. Don’t shoot the bastard yet.” The soldier held his fire till Parer had finished filming, then shot and killed the Jap.

BY SPIRIT ALONE

Parer sought always to capture the spirit of the Australian soldier; his courage and self-sacrifice, his good humour and laughter, his suffering and sorrow. So often we can see it in these graphic war films.

We see it in the young body crumpled in agony on the kunai grass; in the blind soldier groping his way down the Kokoda Trail, through the clinging mud; in the bowed heads grouped around the rough wooden crosses.

“The biggest and greatest thing to me,” said Parer, “was the way these men, whose physical endurance had been virtually exhausted, were carrying on by spirit alone. It’s a privilege to be a war photographer when you have to film men of the A.I.F.”

His diaries, written in pencil and often hard to decipher, are in the Mitchell Library in Sydney. They show that Parer consciously strove to capture the peculiarly Australian characteristics of the men of the A.I.F. He describes one film:

“The rain mercilessly beats down; it runs off the grass roof of a native lean-to; the camera tilts down to a wounded lad; a big close-up of his sweating face- his cobber is with him. This mateship is the common theme that has run through the Anzacs of the last war and this one.

“The theme of our film is that: ‘The greatest binding force in our army is mateship. This is found to the highest degree in the infantry platoons and sections. The particular quality of this mateship is uniquely Anzac.’

“This is no fake . . . it is dinkum. In the eerie half-light climbing up the stiff ridges . . . helping the wounded cobber.”

JUNGLE FUNERAL

The diary also gives us a vivid description of a jungle funeral, after the capture of Salamaua. It shows us Parer’s own strong sense of mateship with the men he filmed; his deep humility, which convinced him that his own part was nothing compared with theirs. Yet in fact he shared all their risks; he stood by their side in the front line, armed with nothing more lethal than a camera.

Sunday, 1st August (1942): “Father English came over today to bless the graves of Barry Muir, Buck and Hookesie. It was raining- the mist was moving slowly over the mountains. Slowly the boys filed down and around the graves, took off their hats and bowed their heads as the burial service started. Hard fight, tired men—wet capes—tired eyes—they paid with true sincerity their homage to their fallen comrades.

“It was the most moving ceremony I have seen. Not a man looked at the camera -the last shot I took was from underneath them showing their large figures standing silently by the graves and slowly moving as the service came to a close. Barry Muir was one of the most respected men in the company-a white man. Buck was a tower of strength and Hookesie had proved his worth.

“Before I left, John Levin gave me one of the Jap watches the boys had souvenired. It was from the platoon, he said. I felt awkward, as anything I had done in my short association with the lads was nothing compared to their gallantry, their resistance and spirit. He said that the boys would like me to have it. Hell, what chaps they are. I thanked him awkwardly and felt very small beside such chaps.”

PARER JOINS PARAMOUNT

In May, 1943, Parer resigned from the Australian Department of Information and joined Paramount News, New York. It was not because he was still getting the same miserable wage as an untried cameraman or because the Americans offered him five times as much—Parer had no interest in money. But he simply could not get along with the pettifogging attitude of the department. They demanded he come south to make a training film at the height of the New Guinea campaign. Parer disappeared into the bush and never received the letter- officially anyhow! They instructed him to go to Broome to cover an expected Japanese invasion there. Parer regarded this as fantastic.

In accepting the Paramount offer he stipulated that his chief task should be to cover the Australians, but in fact, he never returned to the Australian forces. It was a real grief to a patriot like Parer; he felt he had failed his country by joining the Americans. Finally he decided he must come back.

MARRIAGE

In March, 1944, Parer was on leave in Sydney and married Marie Cotter. Marie had been a close and cherished friend for a long time and this friendship had ripened gradually and naturally into love. Like Parer, she was a deeply sincere Catholic.

DEATH STRIKES AT LAST

Parer covered the U.S. landing on Guam and soon had a wide reputation both for his camera work and for his incredible bravery. Denis Warner, an Australian war correspondent, wrote:

“The Marines think of him as a sort of legendary figure the bullets cannot touch because four of their own corps of cameramen have been killed in the fighting here, but none took the same risks as Parer. In the final fight for Orote airstrip, where Japanese resistance was easily the fiercest of the campaign, Parer preceded the infantry, following the tanks on foot. He was not injured, but many infantrymen, sheltering in foxholes behind him, were killed by machinegun bullets and mortars.”

Parer followed the tanks to give him protection from the front, while he filmed the attacking infantry who were behind him. The danger was, of course, that he had no protection from the flank; during the Guam fighting a bullet actually passed through his coat.

He landed with the Marines on Pelelieu on 17th September, 1944. It was to be his last assignment with the Americans; he confided to an American newspaperman: “My heart is with the Australians; I want to get back to them.” He followed the same technique as on Guam, following the first tank. A machine-gun opened up from a Japanese pillbox at a range of about twenty yards and almost cut him in two. He was thirty-two years old.

One of his most touching memorials comes from his close friend and admirer, John Hetherington:

“I hope that Damien Parer found the life after death in which his faith never wavered. If he did, then it is not to be doubted that he sits among the heavenly company, polishing the lens of a camera, and every now and then raising it to the light and reverently exclaiming: “Take a look at that! Isn’t she a bloody beaut’!”*

“IT’S IN THE FATHER’S HANDS”

Parer never underestimated the risks he took. Quite frequently he told his friend that he expected to die in battle. Some have seen this as a sort of premonition, but it seems to have been nothing more than an intelligent estimation of the odds against him. Not long before he left Sydney he spoke to his brother Stan:

“This can’t last. On the law of averages I’ve got to stop a bullet. I don’t mind much. It’s in the Father’s hands.”

This was typical of Parer’s whole life. “It’s in the Father’s hands.” He saw himself always as ‘the beloved son of a Heavenly Father; a Father whose will would determine whether he was to live or die. And he never queried that will all his life.

He believed, too, with every fibre of his being, that death was only the passage to eternal life. He never doubted that when he died he would enter into the reward that God had stored up for him.

NO UNNECESSARY RISKS

This does not mean that Parer was reckless. The dangers were soberly calculated and were accepted as a necessary part of his life and work. He had a job to do, no less than the soldiers, and that entailed risks; there was no avoiding them, except by shirking his job.

LOVE OF THE MASS

Parer was at Mass and Communion the morning that he died. He always had a deep reverence for the Mass and went whenever he could-if possible to daily Mass.

His other great devotion was to Our Lady. He loved the Rosary especially. Among the papers that he left behind was the Treatise of De Montfort on “True Devotion to Our Lady.”

He was always deeply conscious of the protection of Our Lady. On November 1943 he flew with a R.A.A.F. Mitchell bomber on a raid over Wewak in New Guinea-it was his twenty-second combat mission. He wrote in his diary:

“I had a feeling I might cop it today and repeated my trust in Our Lady’s protection; not only from death, but if I was to die to do it well.”

He certainly needed Our Lady’s protection; the plane was badly shot up, some of the crew wounded, and they just managed to limp back to base.

*”Nine Profiles,” p. 181.

He was with the Americans later in the month and was most impressed with their Thanksgiving Day. His diary reads:

“25 Nov.: Thanksgiving Day. A national American holiday. The boys explained that when the Pilgrim Fathers had gathered in a good harvest after their first twelve months in America they proclaimed a holiday in thanksgiving to Almighty God for his gifts. It’s a lesson to us. We have a holiday for Eight Hour Day, Labour Day, Bank holiday . . . No one yet has put forward the suggestion that we have a holiday to thank our Creator for his gifts to our country. It appears that a lot of Americans use it as an opportunity to feast and drink a lot without a thought of a spiritual motive behind it. But the national gesture is there and we could well follow it.”

PARER THE PATRIOT

Parer was a passionately patriotic Australian. We have already seen that his first independent venture with the movie camera was an attempt to translate to the screen the patriotic poems of Paterson and Lawson. He felt that he was helping to build and to preserve the great Australian tradition which was enshrined in the army in a special way. He felt, too, that his Catholic Faith helped him to understand and sympathise the men who fought and died for their country- just as it helped Parer himself to face death without flinching. Something of this can be seen in another passage from his diary:

“We photographers don’t actually realise the powerful weapon we hold in our hands; a weapon not only of immediate value but in the future it will be another stone in the building of the Australian tradition. Our sons will see with their own eyes the story of the cream of our youth and their country who are now dying.

“I find my Faith means more and more to me. This devotion to Our Lady is wonderful. I’m sure I could never carry out my work nor feel as much in sympathy with our boys if it weren’t for this grace. I feel quite ready to die. The thought of being killed on a mission is not one of great alarm as, if my Mother is interceding for me, everything must be for the best.”

Parer was, of course, very conscious of the immediate propaganda effect of his work and never underestimated it. He was helping Australia win the war. But he looked far beyond that. This appears clearly in the long entry he has in his diary about his aims in the “Assault on Salamaua” film, which he always regarded as his best. He wrote:

“This wonderful mateship is the common thread with the last war’s Anzacs and for the first time in our newsreel film coverage of this war we are working with a clear central theme-a theme that will stand the test of time because of its essential truth. Its propaganda value is a by-product. It is the truth that Will Dyson painted in the last war- the greatest binding force in our army is mateship . . . The particular quality of this mateship is uniquely Anzac. The rain, fog, slush and malaria conspire with the wily Japanese to defeat our boys. But these things are all part of the fact that adds fuel to the fire that helps to forge the great mateship.”

CHRIST’S WORK IN THE WORLD

Damien Parer believed that he was doing Christ’s work in the world with his camera. That was why he had to do it perfectly. That was why his conscience nagged him unceasingly when he was away from the front line even for a few weeks. That was why he felt that he must brave every danger although he knew that he would almost certainly be killed. His life and his work was not his own but God’s and he gave them back to God with that wholehearted enthusiasm which was his very nature.

This is not mere imagination; it is something that his whole life bears out. His friends were well aware of it. Ron Maslyn Williams, perhaps his closest friend, wrote of him:

“When Damien did all that scrupulous work on his cameras, preparing them as a priest might the chalice, he wasn’t doing it for himself, but for God. His faith was limitless.”

Among his personal papers, which are now lodged in the Mitchell Library in Sydney, there is an article on the Mystical Body of Christ. There is a passage in it which sums up perfectly Damien’s outlook on life:

“We are united to and used by Christ as the living branches are united to and used by the vine to bear its fruit. We are not merely passive but active; each doing the particular part for which he or she is naturally suited . . . all helping to contribute to the scheme for the Redemption of the whole race.”

Nihil Obstat.

Bernard O’Connor, Diocesan Censor.

Imprimatur.

@ Justin D. Simonds, Archbishop of Melbourne. 12 December, 1966.

********

Daniel Mannix

ARCHBISHOP OF MELBOURNE

BY REV. BERNARD O’CONNER

INDEX

FOREWORD

This is not a biography of Archbishop Mannix. It is a pen portrait, a sketch in black and white. It leaves half his days untouched—his childhood, youth and years of priesthood in Ireland. He was born in Charleville, Co. Cork, Ireland, on March 4th, 1864. He was twentysix years of age when he was ordained priest, at St. Patrick’s College, Maynooth. In his forty-ninth year he was consecrated titular Archbishop of Pharsalus, Co-adjutor to Archbishop Thomas Joseph Carr, Archbishop of Melbourne, Australia. Hesucceeded to the See of Melbourne on Dr. Carr’s death, on May 6th, 1917.

Our study begins with his arrival in Melbourne on Easter Sunday, 1913. Being a sketch it leaves many things out. Nothing is said, for instance, of his deep reverence for Rome, his personal loyalty to the Holy See. Nothing is said of his relations with other bishops either those of the Australian hierarchy or those who served in Australia as Apostolic Delegates. Little is said of his dealings with the laity. The complex and fascinating question of the development of Catholic Action in Australia, in which he played such a leading role, remains untouched here.

All that are attempted are three brief studies of this great and human complex character: as man, as bishop and as priest. The great task of writing a full and accurate biography depicting “the living breathing human being, his acts, his words, his contribution to the world’s story” is left to other and more competent hands.

May success crown their efforts.

BERNARD O”CONNOR

Melbourne. July 31st, 1965.

1. THE MAN

In a fascinating and revealing interview on Australian television in November, 1961, when he was already ninetyseven years of age, Archbishop Mannix was asked could he remember what his first impressions and feelings were on his arrival in the country in 1913. In his answer he said that previously he had known little about Australia “except that it was on the wrong side of the equator and too near it.” Even though it was April, he found the heat trying in both Perth and Adelaide. He went on to say: “I came to be convinced in my own mind that I could not live in Australia. I could not stand the heat. I did not mention this to anybody else. I did not want to start with a bad impression.” He spoke of a lady who had been achild of six or seven on the day of his arrival and was present in St. Patrick’s Cathedral, Melbourne, at his welcome. He recalled the story she told him years afterwards: “She saw me and heard me and evidently had her wits about her for she came to the conclusion which she delivered to her parents when she went home, “that poor man won’t live six months.” But she was a false prophetess, and I was a false prophet. Eventually she told the story to me last year, or the year before, when she was a comparatively old lady. She died last year, and I am living—or half-living still.”

A FULL, ACTIVE LIFE

Until he reached his ninetieth birthday, in March, 1954, Dr. Mannix, as he was most generally called, led a very full and active life. Thus, for almost forty years he had walked every morning from his gracious home, Raheen, in the Melbourne suburb of Kew, to St. Patrick’s Cathedral, a distance of some three miles. For most of the time he had made the return trip on foot in the evening, too. As, swinging his walking stick, he strode along the streets of the poorer suburbs en route he made a striking figure. He was some six feet tall, very erect in his carriage, and—as someone once described him “a consecrated ramrod.” His face was strong and ascetic, notable for his deep-set pale grey eyes, high cheek bones and long upper lip. It was framed with a halo of hair, not so long or unkempt as is the fashion of modern youth, but curling over his collar beneath a tall silk hat. A long frock coat reaching to his knees made him the typical Irish Catholic cleric of the late nineteenth century. On this daily walk he met a whole line of regular “clients,” down-and-outs, to each of whom he gave a shilling or two, sometimes with a word of warning against drinking it too quickly. He had quite a fund of anecdotes about these encounters. But he met others, too. There were the two little boys, for instance, whom he found struggling to reach the door-knocker of one of the small cottages opening on to the footpath. He stopped for amoment watching their efforts. Then he asked: “Can I help?” The reply was: “Yes.” So he knocked for them, and as he did they fled towards a lane close by with the cry: “Now, run like hell!”

The inward journey would bring him to the Cathedral presbytery in time for dinner. He would come down the stairs to the dining room dressed as he was for most of the day, in the long soutane piped with purple and the purple biretta set well back above his broad forehead. At table he was very much relaxed and at ease both with the priests on the Cathedral staff and any guests who may have been with them. He enjoyed their friendly banter and was always ready to provoke it with a leading question or a carefully chosen comment.

HIS HOSPITALITY

Here we might recall that he was a most hospitable man. Before advancing years brought weariness with them he gave many a pleasant clerical dinner party at Raheen to mark the visit of some distinguished cleric, and used to invite a wide circle of his senior priests to his table. Almost to the end of his days he entertained the Cathedral staff at Christmas dinner at Raheen. On great occasions, among them the consecration of any of the priests of his diocese to the episcopate (several of these were men he had chosen himself to carry the burden of the daily administration of the diocese for him) he was always happy to play host to a dinner for more than two hundred of the clergy both local and visiting. These gatherings were always the more memorable for the clever and witty speech with which he would personally conclude them.

He made a striking figure when he assumed the vestments of his episcopal office, and he moved with impressive dignity. A visiting prelate once said: “He looks like a bishop in a mediaeval window.” When it came to a lesser occasion—the blessing of a school, a presbytery or convent—he usually wore a Maynooth cape over the black soutane, and would simply put a stole around his neck and mark the place in his handbook of pontifical ceremonies with a long tapering finger.

HIS LOVE OF MUSIC

Another personal trait which was not apparent frequently in his public life was his love for music. This contributed to the practical and charitable arrangements he made, late in 1939, for the “adoption” of the members of the Vienna Boys” Choir—stranded in Australia by the outbreak of war, by families of the Cathedral and other parishes of the diocese. From this came, soon afterwards, .the establishment of the cathedral choir school with its scholarships. Then, years later, his acceptance of the suggestion that the Cathedral might be finally completed with the installation of a great pipe organ to mark the golden jubilee of his episcopate also showed his appreciation of music. Here his special love for Irish music might be mentioned, though, in the days of Ireland’s struggle for freedom during the first World War, he must have been bored beyond measure by the interminable repetition of “Danny Boy” sung at him at the many parish concerts he attended in those times. Some may remember that in 1947 a recital was given in the Melbourne Town Hall by Mrs. Kiernan (Delia Murphy), the wife of the recently appointed Irish Ambassador. At the request of the Archbishop she sang Moore’s “Oft in the Stilly Night.” As one looked at him, an old man over eighty years of age, sitting alone, stately and impassive, one appreciated the significance of the lines:

“When I remember all the friends so link’d together I”ve seen around me fall like leaves in wintry weather: I feel like one who treads alone some banquet hall deserted Whose lights are fled, whose garlands dead, and all but he departed. Sad mem’ry brings the light of other days around me.”

And still his days were far from over, or his work done.

Finally it might be well to recall, on this theme, how he showed his love for Irish music in another way. In the 1920”s and 1930”s he used to spend his annual vacation during February at Queenscliff, Victoria. Every afternoon regularly he would set out to walk along the beach, towards Point Lonsdale, accompanied by the priest who was his holiday companion. Sometimes as he walked, sometimes as he sat on a low sand-dune, he would sing softly the songs of Ireland he had learned in his youth. He was a most incongruous figure there, on a hot summer afternoon dressed in his long, frock coat but condescending to the climate to the extent that he replaced the tall silk hat with a panama straw, which in latter years gave way to a Mexican sombrero!

HIS KEEN INTELLECT

Dr. Mannix’s early academic career with its success as a post-graduate student in the Dunboyne Establishment at St. Patrick’s College, Maynooth, Ireland, followed by many years on the teaching staff of that great college professing several branches of theology gave ample proof of his exceptional intellectual ability. But he has left little lasting evidence of this in the written word. There are a few articles extant, a couple of short pamphlets, little else beside. We might add the clever prefaces written for other men’s books, and his own letters, too. These letters were comparatively few and usually brief, marked by that economy of words and pregnancy of phrase which were characteristic. There were also his speeches, which are now reposing away in newspaper files. These were his great weapon.

His speeches were scarcely ever written, though he spent many hours of consideration in preparing them. Rarely did he have even a note in his hand. The printed versions, though always carefully checked by him, lack the judicial tone, the deliberate utterance, the emphatic gesture which made their delivery so memorable and at times very moving. Two of his sermons were historic—the panegyric preached on his predecessor as Archbishop of Melbourne, the Most Reverend Thomas Carr, June 5th, 1917, and the occasional sermon at the opening of the Twenty-ninth International Eucharistic Congress, at Sydney, September, 1928. The text of the first is extant. It ranges over the history of the Church in Australia and the special contribution made by the early Irish settlers and first Irish priests and bishops and then reviews the life and work of Archbishop Carr with moving eloquence. As for the latter, all that now remains is the following report in the official record of the proceedings of the Congress:

“The text of His Grace’s magnificent discourse was taken from the Canticles (II.11.12): “The winter is now past, the rain is over and gone. The flowers have appeared in our land.”

“Its theme was the Eucharist and the Papacy—the Mass and the Vatican. “As there was no manuscript of the sermon available, and no report was entirely satisfactory it is not printed in this volume.”

He spoke softly and slowly in conversation. On the public platform or in the pulpit his voice was powerful and clear and it carried with apparently little effort on his part to the limits of the great crowds who gathered to hear him in his heyday. When, later, microphones were placed in front of him they were ignored, or pushed aside. But, as his voice grew weaker with the passing years, he adapted himself to the microphone and used it most effectively. The weak voice which he produced with obvious difficulty in his closing years was but the poor echo of one of his great natural gifts which he had used so well for so long.

HIS STRONG CONSTITUTION

He was blessed, too, with a strong constitution and sound health. He remained active and alert both mentally and physically right into old age despite the heavy burden of responsibility he carried. In his eighty-eighth year he suffered a mild stroke, but with care and rest it was a matter of only months until he was once more bearing the full burden of his office and fulfilling a heavy round of public duties. Some five years later he had a fall in his home in which his wrist was broken. This accident was followed by his gradual withdrawal from public activities, though it was not until September, 1959, that he made his last public speech. Maisie Ward (Mrs. Frank Sheed) recorded in her autobiography these impressions of him in these latter days:

“Archbishop Mannix was an extraordinarily impressive figure, already more than ninety, emaciated, almost ethereal, immensely dignified, hardly eating, motionless and long silent with a dry wit occasionally flashing out.” (Unfinished Business (Sheed and Ward), p. 884.)

He retained control of the policy and administration of the diocese and exercised it with wisdom until the eve of his death.

II. THE PASTOR

The appointment, in 1912, of Monsignor Mannix, then President of St. Patrick’s College, Maynooth, Ireland, to the episcopate, as coadjutor Archbishop of Melbourne called for a great sacrifice. As he said himself in his first address in Melbourne: “It is a long way from Ireland to Australia, from Maynooth to Melbourne. And, I may confess the truth, it was a great sorrow and a great wrench for me to turn my face away from my own dear country and from my own kindred. A hundred bonds stronger than steel bound me to the dear old land from which so many of you, like myself, have come.”

But he hastened to add, . . .”if the burden of the episcopal office was to be laid upon me, then I am free to confess, with equal sincerity and candour, that the Holy Father could have laid no more pleasing and acceptable command upon me than that to join the priests of the Archdiocese of Melbourne in their loyal and devoted service of their revered Archbishop. No words can express my gratitude for the warmth and loyalty of their welcome. I am proud to be a worker in their ranks, and the years to comewill prove how deeply I feel my indebtedness to them.”

THE EDUCATION QUESTION

Immediately he went on to discuss the great problem of his whole episcopate, the Education Question. Despite all his best efforts for the next fifty years it remained unsolved, so far as the Church’s claim for recognition by the State of the service done for the State by the Catholic schools of Australia was concerned. Though, at the very end, there was some promise of better days ahead. It was in this context, too, that he made the claim his subsequent activities substantiated: “From this day I claim to be—and as time goes on I hope to justify my claim to be considered—a good Australian, jealous of the interests and of the good name of my adopted country.”

Leaving the detailed record of the struggle for justice in the matter of education to the historians, all that will be added here is to state that he was the driving force which brought to quick fruition the plans for the establishment of a Catholic University college associated with the University of Melbourne—Newman College. Briefly we recall that it was his pastoral zeal which induced the other Bishops of the Province of Victoria, in 1923 (and later the Archbishop of Hobart, Tasmania) to join him in the establishment of a regional seminary for the education of diocesan priests at Corpus Christi College, Werribee, and its development in the 1950”s by the building of its separate theology house, at Glen Waverley. With the establishment of a second Victorian University at Monash in 1960 he was actively engaged in the planning of yet another Catholic university college there, at the very end of his life. Fittingly this college, when built, is to be called after him—Mannix College. In this matter someone should write the full story of the Archbishop Mannix Travelling Scholarship for post-graduate study overseas. This was founded on funds contributed by the clergy and people on the occasion of the diamond jubilee of his ordination.

At about that time there were moves in another State of the Commonwealth for the establishment of a separate Catholic University. The story went around then that Dr. Mannix made the pungent comment: “Whilst they are planning their university with little hope of success, I am infiltrating the Melbourne University from the top with my scholarship.”

CONTROVERSIALIST

In the days of the 1914–1918 war, Dr. Mannix appeared to many to be more of a politician than a priest. In regular almost weekly—public addresses at Catholic functions he made controversial comments on current events. Naturally, for him, and for the many Catholics from Ireland or of Irish parentage, the question of Irish self-determination under the banner of Sinn Fein loomed large. Then there were the two campaigns associated with the issue of conscription for war service overseas. With the passing of time came other questions—the liquor question, divorce, peace and especially the Communist menace. On all these, and other topics too, he expressed his considered opinion not—as he explained to his television interviewer in 1961—as a prelate or priest, but as an ordinary Australian citizen using the privilege of free speech in a democratic community. For many years his pronouncements made headline news in the daily press and bore weight in moulding public opinion.

Whilst the Archbishop was clear in his own mind as to his position in such matters, always using a public platform, never once speaking along these lines from the pulpit, neither the press nor the public, not even some of his own flock always understood it. Consequently there were misunderstandings and mis-interpretations which may have borne harmful consequences at times. For his part he chose to ignore even the possibility of such harm. To him it was axiomatic that “the truth is great and will prevail.” An interesting sidelight on this point was his ultimate reconciliation in the 1940”s with one who had been a devastating critic and a bitter political opponent—the Honourable William Morris Hughes, one time Prime Minister of Australia. Their final friendly meeting followed the Archbishop’s gesture of writing a kind letter of sympathy to Mr. Hughes on the occasion of the death of his only daughter.

ACCESSIBILITY

For many years Dr. Mannix exercised his pastoral ministry principally in and around his Cathedral church. Nearly every afternoon from Monday to Friday he met and spoke with his priests and people at the Cathedral presbytery. There was no difficulty in getting an appointment. Any priest could see him any afternoon, if the Archbishop was free, by simply going upstairs to the study and knocking at the open door. Such interviews were often necessarily short, but rarely unsatisfactory. If the business or problem required lengthy consideration the Archbishop gave it the full attention of his clear incisive intellect. Always the interviewer felt he was being heard and understood, even though he might not have left with a clear and ready-made decision. Quite often he was thrown back upon his own judgment. If responsibility was involved, it was generally left to him but he felt that he had the sympathetic encouragement and moral support of his Archbishop.

There were more difficult cases, and less pleasant meetings. The bishop, the good pastor had to “convince, entreat, rebuke with perfect patience and doctrine,” as Saint Paul wrote to Timothy. There were instances where the subjects of such episcopal discipline were hurt grievously and went away resentful, but these were far outnumbered and outweighed by the great many more cases in which the subject left conscious that not only had he received a just and fair hearing but that, also, his bishop had treated him with Christian charity and real magnanimity.

There was a strain of intolerance in the Archbishop’s make-up. It was rooted in his background, and it was not altogether a bad thing. At times it did good. One example of this may find a place here. During World War II a Catholic charitable organization planned to establish a rehabilitation centre for street-girls in a select Melbourne suburb. An agitation against this was organized by local interests, to the extent that the local municipal council joined in the protests and sent a delegation to wait on Dr. Mannix at the Cathedral presbytery. This group was received with the barest courtesy, and before they could say much they were treated to a sharp lecture from the Archbishop in the vein of Our Lord’s own comment in similar circumstances: “Let he who is without sin among you, cast the first stone.” And then they were dismissed summarily. The centre was duly opened and carried on its charitable work for years.

PASTORAL ACTIVITY

For some forty years the Archbishop devoted from four to six hours every Saturday afternoon and evening to the work of the confessional in the Cathedral. For about the same length of time he would celebrate an early Mass there every Sunday at which he would preach a simple homily. On many Sundays he then attended a Communion breakfast, a gathering of some society or group at breakfast in a hall after their own Mass, at which he would have to listen to the “guest speaker” before making his own contribution of a witty and usually brief address. Sometimes such a gathering served as his platform for comments on current events.

In any case he always made it a point to return to the Cathedral for the last morning Mass, the 11 o‘clock Mass. Should he arrive before it began he would take his place at a chair in the sanctuary in his black soutane and cloak. Should he be delayed somewhat he would kneel at a priedieu in a side-chapel close to the sanctuary. Then came dinner at one o‘clock which, with its conversation and banter, was never of less than one hour’s duration, though we may mention, here, that he never ate much at any time and appeared to have a poor appetite. Soon after dinner the Archbishop would be on the move again—this went on Sunday after Sunday for year after year to his three o‘clock appointment. Sometimes this was the administration of Confirmation in a parish, quite often it was the blessing of a school, or church or extensions to parish buildings, for the diocese was growing constantly under his regime.

Confirmation was administered triennially in the parishes, and after the ceremony there always followed the long address in the church in which he gave a masterly synopsis of the Catholic faith and Christian life. This address was never less than sixty minutes in duration and as he grew older it lengthened till, at the end, when he was in his eighties, it went on for ninety minutes or more. It was directed not so much at the children confirmed but rather at the adults gathered around them. By this time it would be five o‘clock or later, but still the Archbishop’s Sunday tasks were not yet ended.

Without a break for rest or refreshment he would be driven immediately away from the afternoon function (he never owned a motor-car, but always hired one) to go around the Catholic hospital of the city to visit primarily any of his clergy who may have been there, but he cheerfully saw any other patients to whom the Sisters cared to take him. Only then did he return to Raheen. For some years he chose to enjoy the company of one of his priests on Sunday evenings, whose role was something akin to being the court jester. In later years this visit was transferred to Monday evenings. In any case the visitor was usually dismissed at about ten o‘clock, and the Archbishop was alone, as he chose to live in his great house.

But he was not really alone, nor had he finished his day’s tasks. And this leads us on to making a fresh beginning and to the consideration of Dr. Mannix as a priest.

111. THE PRIEST

Despite the wide field of his interests and the burden -of responsibility he bore as the chief pastor of the Archdiocese of Melbourne, Dr. Mannix always was conscious of his own priesthood and the personal obligations it entailed.

He was a priests” priest, always at home and at ease with his fellow priests, watchful of their welfare, zealous for their fidelity to Christ. One felt a measure of constraint in his attitude to the laity, a deliberate aloofness except towards small children—but this melted away in clerical company.

A DEVOTED PRIEST

He was a priests” priest in a deeper sense. His spirituality, his prayer, his charity, his love of the Church, indeed his whole demeanour were the living embodiment of all that the Church asks of those chosen as “Christ’s servants and stewards of God’s mysteries.” On one occasion, at a clerical conference he said that no one would ever know the secrets of his soul, his method of prayer, his approach to Christ. But his actions spoke when his tongue was still. The Holy Mass was the heart and centre of his life. There was a careful reverence in his celebration of the Holy Sacrifice which expressed profound personal devotion. Every word of the Latin was enunciated clearly and deliberately. Every gesture had a grace and dignity which spoke of his interior recollection and attention. In his middle years it would take him thirty-five to forty minutes to celebrate. As he grew older, this time lengthened and his reverence grew more profound. Though in the closing years of his long life he was physically unable to offer Mass daily, he never gave up the will to do so. On his better days he would celebrate without assistance. Only once did he ask for help, not long before his death, and this was, it proved, his last Mass. On the days when he was unable to go to the altar himself he had Mass offered by a chaplain in the private chapel close to his bedroom. From his bed he followed the Mass closely and received Holy Communion with great devotion, right up to the day before his death.

As long as he was able he read his breviary (the priest’s daily prayer) with care and attention, and he had a devotion to the Rosary. To the very end he kept his breviary and his beads close to him. In addition, he spent considerable time in the evening at prayer before the Blessed Sacrament. One estimate is that when on vacation, and so giving opportunity for observation to the priests about him, he would spend as much as five hours of the day in prayer.

IN RETREAT

For many years at the annual retreats for the clergy of the diocese he would attend and listen attentively to the lectures, not just for one week, but for their repetition on a second, third or even fourth week, as the increasing number of his priests required. There he would be found at the end of each day kneeling, saying his rosary before the Blessed Sacrament and humbly making the Stations of the Cross.

Following the coming of the Blessed Sacrament Fathers to St. Francis” Church in the city, the Archbishop made it a regular practice to go to their Monastery for confession every Saturday afternoon at 3 o‘clock. Afterwards he would enter the Church and spend a considerable time there, kneeling humbly in prayer among his people. Then he would return to St. Patrick’s to hear confessions himself, as we have already seen, for hours.

SPIRIT OF POVERTY

He showed his spirit of Christian charity on many occasions and in many ways. He gave innumerable charitable gifts both in money and in kind. Many types of people appealed to him for assistance. Every request received his personal attention. At times he sought verification of a claim through the local clergy. Once he decided that a case was deserving he would be liberal in the alms he would send or the provision he would make for the needs to be met. He made generous donations to many public appeals. He had a spirit of poverty. . Thus, as he asked his secretary, on one occasion for the bag of shillings and twoshilling pieces he used to carry for the “clients” he met on his daily walk, he remarked: “I haven’t a penny of my own in the world.” After fifty years as Archbishop his estate consisted of two watches and a clock.

On occasions his patience must have been gravely tried, but rarely did he show any reaction by word or gesture. He made no demands for his personal comfort or consideration, but accepted the situation as he found it. Thus the story is told of his complete imperturbability when, on the way to the pageant at the Melbourne Cricket Ground, in November, 1934, during the Melbourne Centenary celebrations, his car overturned. He climbed out, moved over to the footpath and stood there immobile until another car was sent for him. He then continued his journey and fulfilled his engagement as if nothing had happened.

As the years sped by the Archbishop seemed to stand aloof and apart from the rush of time. He read widely and constantly. Through the constant stream of visitors from every walk of life he received at Raheen from 1960 onward he maintained his wide interest and influence in both ecclesiastical and political circles. Though his body grew infirm and he rarely moved out of his bedroom in the last year of his life his mind was alert and his wit keen.

Already plans were being made for the celebration of his hundredth birthday. But in the early afternoon of November 5thhe collapsed and the church’s anointing of the sick was administered. Following alternate periods of coma and semi-consciousness he died peacefully in his own bed on the following day, November 6th, 1963, being aged ninety-nine years and nine months.

His body lay in state in St. Patrick’s Cathedral from the following Friday until the next Tuesday. In that time more than 200,000 filed past the bier in a final tribute of respect and affection from the people of Melbourne whom he had served so long.

A vast congregation of bishops, priests and people, representative of the whole nation filled the Cathedral for the final obsequies. His remains were buried in the Cathedral crypt and lie beneath the transept pavement in a grave as yet unmarked.

********

Day By Day With The Cross

JAMES A. VARNI

INDEX

PREFACE

“If any man will come after me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross daily, and follow me.” (Luke ix, 23.)

These are the words of Jesus, in which He emphasises the taking up of our cross daily, if we want to be His followers. Since, to be Catholic, we must be followers of Christ, daily should we make use of every available means that will enable us to observeOur Lord’s injunction.

Day by Day with the Cross has been prepared for that one purpose. It will serve its greatest usefulness if but three trifling suggestions are heeded: (1) Each morning, read the “Short Meditation” on page 4, and then the indulgenced prayer, or the quotation (based on the Imitation of Christ) assigned under that date. (2) Have the intention to gain the indulgence (which, unless otherwise stated, can be gained as often as the prayer is said), and then recite the prayer at times during the day. (3) Form a daily resolution on what you have read.

All this is simplicity itself; and should not require even one full minute. Truly but a minimum of time for so great a spiritual gain as we daily take up our cross to follow the Saviour.

JAMES A. VARNI

A SHORT MEDITATION FOR EVERY DAY

The Past? -Where is it? It has fled.

The Future?-It may never come.

Our friends departed?-With the dead.

Ourselves?-Fast hastening to the tomb. What are earth’s joys?-The dews of morn. Its pleasures?-Ocean’s writhing foam. Where’s peace?-In trials meekly borne. Where’s joy?-In Heaven, the Christian’s home.

THE CATHOLIC COMPANION

JANUARY

The Sign of the Cross

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. (100 days; 300 if made with holy water. SUGGESTION: Make the Sign of the Cross both before and after using this booklet everyday.)

January 1: “He who follows me, does not walk in darkness,” Our Lord sa id. Let it, then, be our chief study to meditate on the life of Jesus Christ.

January 2: Jesus! (300 days)

January 3: Sublime words do not make a saint; it is a virtuous life that makes one dear to God.

January 4: Mother of Orphans, pray for us. (300 days)

January 5: Grant, O Lord, to keep us this day (or this night) without sin. (500 days, morning or evening)

January 6: If you knew the whole Bible by heart, and the sayings of all the philosophers, what good would it do you, if you did not have charity and the grace of God?

January 7: My Jesus, mercy! (300 days)

January 8: They that follow the pleasures of their senses, soil their conscience and lose the grace of God. January 9: O Most Holy Trinity, I adore the dwelling by Thy grace in my soul. (300 days)

January 10: This is the highest wisdom: to make progress towards the kingdom of heaven, by despising the world. January 11: My God, I love Thee. (300 days)

January 12: Often call to mind the proverb: “The eye is not satisfied with seeing, nor is the ear filled with hearing. January 13: Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me. (500 days)

January 14: Our Lord says: “Watch and pray, that you enter not into temptation.”

January 15: Why do we neglect the things that are useful and necessary, and instead give our attention to such as are curious and mischievous? Having eyes, we see not!

January 16: My God, grant that I may love Thee, and as the sole reward of my love, grant that I may ever love Thee more and more. (300 days)

January 17: Many are the things which it is of little or no profit to the soul to know.

January 18: Mary, Mother of God and Mother of Mercy, pray for us, and for the departed. (300 days)

January 19: The highest and most useful lesson we can learn is this: To know ourselves truly and to look down upon ourselves.

January 20: O blessed Trinity, one God, I believe in Thee, I hope in Thee, I love Thee, I adore Thee: have mercy on me now and in the hour of my death, and save me. (300 days)

January 21: To think nothing of ourselves, and always to judge well and highly of others, is great wisdom and high perfection.

January 22: O most Holy Trinity, dwelling by Thy grace in my soul, grant that 1 may love Thee more and more. (300 days)

January 23: This ought to be our endeavour: To conquer ourselves, and every day to get more the mastery over ourselves, and to advance further in holiness.

January 24: Teach me, O Lord, to do Thy will, for Thou art my God. (500 days)

January 25: Woe to them who refuse to humble themselves willingly with the children; the lowly gate of the heavenly kingdom will not permit them to enter.

January 26: If you want to possess a blessed life, despise this present life.

January 27: Remain with me, O Lord; be Thou my true joy. (300 days)

January 28: Knowledge should not be condemned; but a good conscience and a virtuous life are always to be preferred.

January 29: May the most just, most high, and most adorable will of God be in all things done, praised, and magnified for ever. (500 days)

January 30: The more humble a man is, and the more resigned unto God, so much the more prudent shall he be in all his affairs, and the more at peace.

January 31: Sweet Heart of Mary, be my salvation. (300 days)

FEBRUARY

February 1: O God, be merciful to me, a sinner. (500 days)

February 2: To thee, O Virgin Mother, who was never defiled with the slightest stain of original or actual sin, I commend and entrust the purity of my heart. (300 days)

February 3: Perfect men do not easily believe every tale-teller; for they know human weakness is prone to evil, and very apt to slip in speech.

February 4: Guard me, O Lord, as the apple of Thy eye; shield me under the shadow of Thy wings. (500 days)

February 5: Do not boast of the size or beauty of your body, which with a little sickness is spoiled and disfigured.

February 6: My God and my all! (300 days)

February 7: It is a wise thing not at once to repeat to others what we have heard or believed.

February 8: Into Thy hands, O Lord, I commit my spirit. (500 days)

February 9: We ought to read devout and simple books as willingly as those that are high and profound. February 10: My God, my only good, Thou art all mine; grant that I may be all Thine. (300 days) February 11: Our Lady of Lourdes, pray for us. (300 days)

February 12: The proud and greedy are never at rest; the poor and humble pass their life in abundance of peace. February 13: O God, hasten to my aid; O Lord, make haste to help me. (500 days)

February 14: There is no peace in the heart of the worldly man, nor in the man who is devoted to outward things, but in the fervent and spiritual man.

February 15: Queen of Apostles, pray for us. (300 days)

February 16: Do what you can, and God will be with your good will.

February 17: Help us, Joseph, in our earthly strife, ever to lead a pure and blameless life. (300 days)

February 18: Do not glory in riches, if you have them, nor in friends, because they are powerful; but, glory in God, Who gives all Things, and desires to give Himself above all things.

February 19: O Lord, repay us not according to the sins which we have committed, nor according to our iniquities. (500 days)

February 20: Do not be rash in what you have to do; and do not persist obstinately in your own opinions.

February 21: Do not be proud of your own good works; because the judgments of God are other than those of men; and what pleases men, often displeases Him.

February 22: O Mary, make me live in God, with God, and for God. (300 days)

February 23: Do not open your heart to every man, but discuss your business with one that is wise and fears God.

February 24: Do not fawn upon the rich, and do not be fond of appearing in the presence of the great.

February 25: My God, I believe in Thee, I hope in Thee, I love Thee above all things with my whole soul, my whole heart, my whole strength; I love Thee because Thou art infinitely good and worthy to be loved; and because I love Thee, it grieves me from my whole heart that I have offended Thee; have mercy on me a sinner. Amen. (300 days)

February 26: We should have charity towards all men; but familiarity is not advisable.

February 27: O Lord, increase in us the faith. (500 days)

February 28: It is safer to listen and to take advice than to give it.

February 29 (in Leap Year): To Thee be praise, to Thee be glory, to Thee be thanksgiving for ever and ever, O Blessed Trinity. (500 days)

MARCH

March 1: St. Joseph, foster-father of Our Lord Jesus Christ, and true spouse of Mary ever Virgin, pray for us. (300 days) March 2: We must watch and pray, lest time pass wastefully.

March 3: I thank Thee, O Lord, for having died upon the Cross for my sins. (300 days)

March 4: We might have much peace, if we would not busy ourselves with the sayings and doings of other people, and with things which do not concern us.

March 5: Eternal Father, by the most precious Blood of Jesus Christ, glorify His most Holy Name, according to the desires of His adorable Heart. (300 days, if recited with the intention of making reparation for blasphemies against the name of Jesus)

March 6: If every year we rooted out one fault, we should soon become perfect men.

March 7: Resist your inclination in the beginning, and break off evil habit; lest by little and little it leads you into greater sin.

March 8: We give Thee thanks, Almighty God, for all Thy benefits; Who livest and reignest world without end. Amen. (300 days)

March 9: It is good for us now and then to have some troubles and adversities; for they make a man enter into himself, that he may know he is an exile, and not place his hopes in anything of the world.

March 10: As long as we live in this world, we cannot be without trouble and temptation.

March 11: Grant, we beseech, O Almighty eternal God, that through the spotless virginity of most pure Virgin Mary we may obtain purity of mind and body. Amen. (500 days)

March 12: Everyone should be careful about his temptations, and pray lest the devil find an opportunity, to catch him.

March 13: O purest Heart of Mary; Virgin most holy, obtain for me from Jesus purity and humility of heart. (300 days)

March 14: Resist temptations in the beginning!

March 15: Take great care against vain complacency and pride!

March 16: Our Lady of La Salette, who bringest sinners to repentance, pray without ceasing for us who have recourse to thee. (300 days)

March 17: In judging others a man toils in vain; because, for the most part, he is mistaken

March 18: If God were always the only object our desire, we should not be easily distracted at our own Opinions being opposed

Match 19: O Joseph, virgin father of Jesus, most pure spouse of the Virgin Mary, pray for us daily to Jesus Himself the Son of God that, armed with the weapons of His grace, we may fight as we ought in life and be crowned by Him in death. (500 days)

March 20: Do not commit evil for anything in the world!

March 21: My God, unite all minds in the truth and all hearts in charity. (300 days)

March 22: He does much who does well what he has to do.

March 23: Whatever is done from charity, be it ever so little and contemptible becomes entirely fruitful.

March 24: Study to be patient in bearing the defects of others, and their infirmities; because you also have many things which others must put up with.

March 25: Bid me bear, O Mother blessed, on my heart the wounds impressed, suffered by the Crucified (500 days)

March 26: We want to see others perfect, and yet we do not correct our own faults.

March 27: Mary, Mother of grace, Mother of mercy, protect us from the enemy, and receive us at the hour of death. (300 days)

March 28: You must learn to beat down yourself in many things, if you want to live in peace and harmony with others.

March 29: Sweetest Jesus, be to me not a judge but a Saviour (300 days)

March 30: In the morning, form your resolution. In the evening, examine your conduct how you have behaved during the day in word, deed, and thought.

March 31: O God, the author and lover of peace, to know Whom is to live, to serve Whom is to reign; shield Thy suppliants from all assaults, so that we who trust in Thy protection may fear no foe. Through Christ Our Lord. Amen. (3 years)

APRIL

April 1: O my Jesus, Thou Who are charity itself, kindle in my heart that divine fire that consumes the saints and transforms them into Thee. (300 days)

April 2: Man proposes, but God disposes; neither is the way of man as he chooses.

April 3: Never be wholly idle, but either reading, or writing, or praying, or meditating, or labouring at something.

April 4: Seek a convenient time to attend to yourself; and reflect often upon the benefits of God to you.

April 5: Jesus my God, I love Thee above all things. (300 days)

April 6: As often as I have been amongst men, said a certain person, I have returned less a man. This, we, too, often experience when we talk long.

April 7: He who aims at inward and spiritual things, must, with Jesus, turn aside from the crowd. April 8: Heart of Jesus, grant that I may love Thee and make Thee loved. (300 days)

April 9: No man can rejoice securely but he who has the testimony of a good conscience within.

April 10: A joyous journey often ends in a sorrowful return; and a merry evening often makes a sad morning.

April 11: O Jesus, life eternal in the bosom of the Father, life of the souls made in Thy likeness, in the name of Thy love make us know-reveal to us Thy heart! (300 days)

April 12: There is no true liberty nor profitable joy but in the fear of God with a good conscience.

April 13: Happy is the man who casts away from him whatever may stain or burden his conscience.

April 14: Jesus, for Thee I live-Jesus, for Thee I die-Jesus, I am Thine in life and in death. Amen. (100 days)

April 15: Strive manfully! Habit is overcome by habit!

April 16: Deliver me, O Lord, from my enemies. (500 days)

April 17: Always have an eye upon yourself preferably to all your dearest friends.

April 18: Jesus, Joseph, and Mary, I give you my heart and my soul. (7 years)

April 19: There is no man in the world without some trouble or affliction, be he King or Pope.

April 20: Man’s happiness does not consist in being rich; but a moderate portion is sufficient for him.

April 21: Jesus, for love of Thee, I am with Thee and for Thee. (300 days)

April 22: Do not lose confidence of making spiritual progress; you have yet time- the hour is not yet passed.

April 23: Unless you fight against yourself, you will not overcome vice.

April 24: In a very little while all will be over with you here. Take care how it stands with you in the next life. Man is here today, and gone tomorrow!

April 25: O Jesus, with my whole heart I cling to Thee. (300 days)

April 26: In every deed and thought, act as if you were immediately to die.

April 27: O Jesus, our Saviour, give us Thy blessing; save us from eternal death; assist Thy holy Church; grant peace to the nations; deliver the souls who are suffering (300 days)

April 28: It is better to shun sin than to fly death.

April 29: Holy Spirit, Spirit of Truth, come into our hearts; shed the brightness of Thy light on all nations, that they may be one in Faith and pleasing to Thee. (300 days)

April 30: Blessed is the man that has the hour of his death continually before his eyes, and daily puts himself in order for death.

MAY

May 1: Mary, our hope, have pity on us. (300 days)

May 2: Always be ready, and so live that death may never find you unprepared.

May 3: Hail, O Cross, my only hope! (500 days)

May 4: Do not trust in your friends and neighbours, and do not put off your soul’s welfare till the future, for men will forget you sooner than you think.

May 5: It is better to provide now in time, and send some good before you, than to trust to the assistance of others after death.

May 6: Christ Jesus, be Thou my helper and my redeemer. (300 days)

May 7: If you are not concerned for yourself now, who will be concerned about you hereafter?

May 8: St. Michael the Archangel, defend us in the battle, that we may not be lost in the tremendous judgment. (300 days)

May 9: While you have time, amass for yourself immortal riches.

May 10: Think of nothing but your salvation; care only for the things of God.

May 11: It is better to purge away our sins, and cut off our vices now, than to keep them to be cleansed after death.

May 12: Mary, Virgin Mother of God, pray earnestly to Jesus for me. (300 days)

May 13: A man shall be more grievously punished in those things in which he has sinned the most. May 14: If a little suffering makes you so impatient now, what will hell do?

May 15: Study to guard against and to get the better of such things as displease you in others.

May 16: Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, assist me in my last agony. (7 years)

May 17: As your eye observes others, you, also, are observed by others.

May 18: Always keep in mind your end, and that time lost returns no more.

May 19: Blessed be Jesus Christ and His most pure Mother. (300 days)

May 20: He that shuns not small defects, by little and little falls into greater.

May 21: You will always be glad in the evening if you spend the day well.

May 22: Mother of love, of sorrow, and of mercy, pray for us. (300 days)

May 23: Watch over yourself, stir up yourself, admonish yourself, and whatever may become of others, do not neglect yourself.

May 24: O Lord Jesus Christ, Thou alone art Holy, Thou alone aft the Lord, Thou alone aft most High. (500 days)

May 25: Christ will come to you, if you will prepare for Him a worthy dwelling within yourself.

May 26: My Mother, my sure trust. (300 days)

May 27: Men soon change, and they quickly fail; but Christ abides forever, and stands by us firmly to the end.

May 28: O Jesus, grant that I may be Thine, wholly Thine, always Thine. (300 days)

May 29: Put your whole trust in God, and let Him be your fear and your love.

May 30: Sacred Heart of Jesus, protect our families. (300 days)

May 31: All things pass away, and you, too, along with them!

JUNE

June 1: Jesus, meek and humble of heart, make my heart like unto Thine. (500 days)

June 2: Christ was willing to suffer and to be despised! And do you dare to complain of anything? June 3: Christ had enemies and detractors! And would you want all to be your friends and benefactors? June 4: O Jesus, be Thou Jesus to me, and save me. (300 days)

June 5: If you will stand for no contradiction, how can you be the friend of Christ?

June 6: Our Lord says: “Come to me all you that labour and are burdened, and I will refresh you.” June 7: Through the sign of the Cross, deliver us from our enemies, our God. (3 years)

June 8: Do not mind who may be for you or against you; but be careful that God is with you in everything you do! June 9: Have a good conscience, and God will sufficiently defend you; for he whom God will help, no man’s malice can hurt.

June 10: Sweet Heart of my Jesus, make me love Thee ever more and more. (300 days)

June 11: Many a time it is a great advantage, for keeping us in greater humility, that others know and condemn our faults.

June 12: The humble man, in the midst of reproaches, remains in great peace; for his dependence is on God, and not on the world.

June 13: Heart of Jesus, burning with love of us, inflame our hearts with love of Thee. (500 days)

June 14: The peaceful man does more good than one that is very learned.

June 15: The passionate man turns even good to evil, and readily believes evil.

June 16: He that is in perfect peace suspects no man.

June 17: Blessed be the most Sacred Eucharistic Heart of Jesus. (300 days)

June 18: If you wish to be borne with, bear also with others.

June 19: See how far you yet are from true charity and humility, which do not know how to feel anger or indignation against any one but oneself.

June 20: He who best knows how to endure, will possess the greater peace.

June 21: May the Heart of Jesus be loved everywhere. (300 days)

June 22: According as every one is interiorly, so does he judge exteriorly.

June 23: We blame little things in others, and overlook great things in ourselves.

June 24: Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, may I breathe forth my soul in peace with you. (7 years) June 25: The soul that loves God, despises all things that are less than God.

June26: The good man’s glory is the testimony of a good conscience.

June 27: Mother of Perpetual Help, pray for us. (300 days)

June 28: Have a good conscience, and you shall always have joy.

June 29: To glory in tribulation is not hard to him that loves; for so to glory is to glory in the cross of the Lord. June 30: Sacred Heart of Jesus, be Thou known, be Thou loved, be Thou imitated. (300 days)

JULY

July 1: Eternal Father! I offer Thee the precious Blood of Jesus Christ in satisfaction for my sins, for the relief of the souls in purgatory, and for the wants of Holy Church. (500 days)

July 2: Never rejoice except when you have done well.

July 3: Sweet Heart of Jesus, have mercy on us and upon our erring brethren. (300 days)

July 4: The glory that is given and received by man does not last very long.

July 5: Sacred Heart of Jesus, strengthened in Thine agony by an angel, be our support in our own agony. (300 days)

July 6: Sadness always accompanies the glory of this world.

July 7: All for Thee, most Sacred Heart of Jesus. (300 days)

July 8: He that seeks temporal glory, or does not from his soul despise it, shows himself to have little love for that which is heavenly.

July 9: He has great peace of heart who cares neither for praise nor blame.

July 10: Lord, I am not worthy that Thou shouldst enter under my roof, but only say the word and my soul shall be healed. (500 days every time said thrice)

July 11: You are not more holy for being praised, nor the worse for being blamed.

July 12: Man looks on the face, but God sees into the head.

July 13: Come, O Lord, and do not delay. (500 days)

July 14: Man considers the actions, but God weighs the intentions.

July 15: Always to do well, and to esteem yourself of small account, is the mark of a humble soul,

July 16: We therefore beseech Thee to help Thy servants whom Thou hast redeemed with Thy precious Blood. (300 days)

July 17: Sooner or later you must be separated from all, whether you want to or not.

July 18: In life and in death keep yourself near to Jesus, and entrust yourself to His fidelity, Who alone can help you when all others fail.

July 19: O Jesus in the Most Blessed Sacrament, have mercy on us. (300 days)

July 20: Be humble and peaceful, and Jesus will be with you.

July 21: We ought rather to choose to have the whole world against us than to offend Jesus.

July 22: O good Jesus, hide me within Thy wounds. (300 days)

July 23: Learn to part with an intimate and beloved friend for the love of God.

July 24: Help us, O Lord our God; and defend with perpetual assistance those whom Thou makest to rejoice in the honour of the Holy Cross. Through Christ our Lord. Amen. (5 years)

July 25: Do not feel put out when you are forsaken by a friend, because at last we must all be separated one from another.

July 26: Jesus Christ, Son of the Living God, Light of the world, I adore Thee. For Thee I live, for Thee I die. Amen. (300 days)

July 27: No saint was ever so sublimely enraptured and illuminated as not to be tempted sooner or later.

July 28: Virgin Mary, Mother of Jesus, make us saints. (300 days)

July 29: Temptation is usually a sign of the solace that is to follow.

July 30: That Thou wouldst recall all straying sheep into the unity of the Church and wouldst guide all unbelievers into the light of the Gospel, we pray Thee, Lord, hear us. (300 days)

July 31: The devil does not sleep, neither is the flesh yet dead; therefore, you must not cease to prepare yourself for the battle; for on the right hand and on the left are enemies that never rest.

AUGUST

August 1: Shield, O Lord, Thy people; and ever keep them in Thy care, who put their trust in the pleading of Thine

Apostles, Peter and Paul. Through Christ Our Lord. Amen. (300 days)

August 2: Dispose yourself to patience, rather than to being consoled; and to carrying the cross, rather than to gladness. August 3: Virgin most sorrowful, pray for us. (300 days)

August 4: All that is high is not holy; nor is every pleasant thing good.

August 5: Immaculate Queen of Peace, pray for us. (300 days)

August 6: Put yourself always in the lowest place, and the highest shall be given to you; for the highest does not stand without the lowest.

August 7: May the Most Blessed Sacrament be forever praised and adored. (300 days)

August 8: Be grateful for the least, and you shall be worthy to receive greater things.

August 9: Reward, O Lord, with eternal life all those who do us good for Thy name’s sake. (300 days) August 10: Jesus has many lovers of His heavenly kingdom, but few bearers of His cross!

August 11: Praised be the Most Sacred Heart of Jesus in the Most Blessed Sacrament. (300 days) August 12: All desire to rejoice with Jesus, but few are willing to endure anything for His sake.

August 13: Lord Jesus, cover with the protection of Thy divine Heart our Holy Father the Pope. Be to him light, strength, and consolation. (300 days)

August 14: To many, this seems a hard saying: “Deny yourself, take up your cross, and follow Jesus.” August 15: Holy Mary, deliver us from the pains of hell. (300 days)

August 16: In the cross is salvation! In the cross is life!

August 17: There is no health of soul, nor hope of eternal life, but in the cross.

August 18: O Holy Spirit, sweet guest of my soul, remain with me, and see that I ever remain with Thee. (300 days) August 19: Take up your cross, and follow Jesus, and you shall go into life everlasting.

August 20: Sweet Heart of Jesus, be my love. (300 days)

August 21: If you are Jesus’ companion in suffering, you shall also be His companion in glory.

August 22: There is no other way to life and to true interior peace, but the way of the holy cross, and of daily mortification.

August 23: That thou wouldst deign to humble the enemies of Holy Church, we beseech Thee, hear us. (300 days) August 24: Go where you will, seek what you will, and you will not find a higher way above, nor a safer way below, than the way of the holy cross.

August 25: No man has so heartfelt a sense of the Passion of Christ as he whose lot it has been to suffer like things. August 26: Heart of Jesus, I trust in Thee. (300 days)

August 27: If you carry the cross willingly, it will carry you to your desired goal, where there will be an end of suffering.

August 28: Most worthy Queen of the world, Mary ever Virgin, intercede for our peace and salvation, thou who didst bring forth Christ the Lord the Saviour of all.

August 29: If you carry the cross unwillingly, you make it a burden to yourself, and nevertheless you must bear it. August 30: Eucharistic Heart of Jesus, increase in us Faith, Hope and Charity. (300 days)

August 31: If you fling away one cross, you will surely find another, and perhaps a heavier.

SEPTEMBER

September 1: Vouchsafe that I may praise thee, holy Virgin; grant me strength against thine enemies. (300 days) September 2: The whole life of Christ was a cross and a martyrdom; and do you seek for yourself rest and joy? September 3: May the Virgin Mary with her loving child bless us. (300 days)

September 4: The more the flesh is brought down by affliction, the more is the spirit strengthened by interior grace. September 5: Mother of love, of sorrow, and of mercy, pray for us. (300 days)

September 6: Set yourself, like a good and faithful servant of Christ, to bear manfully the cross of your Lord, for the love of Him Who was crucified for you.

September 7: Drink of the chalice of the Lord lovingly, if you desire to be His friend, and to have a share with Him. September 8: O Mary, who didst enter the world free from stain, do thou obtain for me from God; that I may pass out of it free from sin. (300 days)

September 9: To suffer is what awaits you, if you are resolved to love Jesus, and constantly to serve Him. September 10: Holy God, Holy and strong, Holy and immortal, have mercy on us. (500 days)

September 11: All recommend patience; but, how few there are that desire to suffer!

September 12: Mary! (300 days).

September 13: No man is fit to understand heavenly things who has not resigned himself to suffer adversities for Christ. September 14: The Cross is my sure salvation. The Cross I ever adore. The Cross of the Lord is with me. The Cross is my refuge. (300 days)

September 15: Mary sorrowing, Mother of Christians, pray for us. (300 days)

September 16: Nothing is more acceptable to God, nothing more beneficial for you in this world, than to suffer willingly for Christ.

September 17: To the King of Ages, immortal and invisible, to God alone be honour and glory for ever and ever. Amen. (500 days)

September 18: Patience and humility in adversity please God more than much consolation and devotion in prosperity.

September 19: May my heart be spotless, O Lord, that I may not be confounded. (300 days)

September 20: Let this be the final conclusion: “Through many sufferings we must enter into the kingdom of God.”

September 21: Happy are they who rejoice to be wholly intent on God, and who shake off every worldly impediment.

September 22: As the deer longs for the fountains of water, thus longs my soul for Thee, O God. (500 days)

September 23: Let go all transitory things; seek the eternal!

September 24: Mother of Mercy, pray for us. (300 days)

September 25: The world promises things that are temporary and of small value, and is served with great eagerness.

September 26: Sacred Heart of Jesus, I give myself to Thee through Mary. (300 days)

September 27: For a small gain, men run a great way; for eternal life, many will scarce lift a foot once from the ground.

September 28: My God, I give Thee thanks for that which Thou givest, for that which Thou takest away. May Thy will be done. (300 days)

September 29: Think about your sins with great displeasure and sorrow; and never esteem yourself to be anything on account of your good works.

September 30: Virtue, and discipline, and knowledge, teach me, O Lord, for I have believed Thy Commandments. (300 days)

OCTOBER

October 1: Fear nothing so much, blame and flee nothing so much, as your vices and sins, which ought to displease you more than the loss of anything whatsoever.

October 2: Angel of God, my guardian dear, to whom His love commits me here, ever this day (or this night) be at my side, to light and guard, to rule and guide. Amen. (300 days)

October 3: Fear the judgments of God, dread the anger of the Almighty; diligently search out your own iniquities, to see in how great things you have offended, and how much good you have neglected.

October 4: Eucharistic Heart of Jesus, model of the priestly heart, have mercy on us. (300 days)

October 5: Some carry their devotion only in their books, some in pictures, and some in outward signs and figures. Some have God in their mouths, while there is little of God in their hearts.

October 6: Keep your resolution firm, and your intention upright, towards God.

October 7: Queen of the most holy Rosary, pray for us. (300 days)

October 8: Fight like a good soldier; and if sometimes you fall through frailty, resume greater courage than before.

October 9: It is better to keep secret the grace of devotion, and not to boast nor to talk about it.

October 10: Most Sacred Heart of Jesus, have mercy on us. (500 days)

October 11: It is better to have little than much, because you might be proud of it.

October 12: Let us, with Mary Immaculate, adore, thank, pray to and console the most sacred and well-beloved Eucharistic Heart of Jesus. (300 days)

October 13: He does not act with sufficient discretion who gives himself up wholly to joy.

October 14: We adore Thee, O Christ, and we bless Thee, because by Thy holy Cross Thou hast redeemed the world. (3 years)

October 15: Even in good intentions and desires it is wise to use some restraint at times.

October 16: Sacred Heart of Jesus, I believe in Thy love for me. (300 days)

October 17: We must not regard what the flesh likes or dislikes, but rather endeavour that, even against its will, it may be subject to the spirit.

October 18: Eucharistic Heart of Jesus, have mercy on us. (300 days)

October 19: Of two evils, always choose the less.

October 20: Blessed and praised be the Sacred Heart and precious Blood of Jesus in the most holy Sacrament of the altar. (300 days)

October 21: To escape the future eternal punishment, endeavour patiently to endure present evils for God’s sake.

October 22: Eucharistic Heart of Jesus, burning with love of us inflame our hearts with love of Thee. (300 days)

October 23: The flesh will complain, but if you try hard enough you can control it.

October 24: Angel who didst support our Lord Jesus Christ, come and support us too; come, and do not delay. (300 days)

October 25: You must conceive real contempt of yourself, if you want to triumph over flesh and blood.

October 26: Glory, love, and gratitude be to the Sacred Heart of Jesus. (300 days)

October 27: Learn to break your own will.

October 28: O how humble and lowly I should think of myself; and how worthless, in spite of whatever good I may seem to have!

October 29: My God, bestow Thy blessings and Thy merits on all persons, and on those souls in purgatory, for whom I am in charity, gratitude, or friendship bound and have the desire to pray. Amen. (300 days)

October 30: Say this on every occasion: Lord, if this is pleasing to You, so let it be. But if You know that it will be hurtful to me, and not profitable for the salvation of my soul, take away from me such and such a desire.

October 31: Eucharistic Heart of Jesus, furnace of divine charity, give peace to the world. (300 days)

NOVEMBER

November 1: O Jesus, Son of the Living God, have mercy on us! O Jesus, Son of the Virgin Mary, have mercy on us! O

Jesus, King and centre of all hearts, let there be peace in Thy Kingdom! (300 days)

November 2: Use temporal things, but desire eternal.

November 3: Eternal rest give unto them, O Lord, and let perpetual light shine upon them. May they rest in peace.

Amen. (300 days; applicable only to the dead)

November 4: Be freely willing to forego all human comfort.

November 5: O Lord, my God, I now, at his moment readily and willingly accept at Thy hand whatever kind of death it may please Thee to send me, with all its pains, penalties and sorrows (7 years every time said; Plenary Indulgence at the point of death to all who, with sincere love toward and, under the usual conditions, say the above prayer on any day they may choose)

November 6: Lord, keep me from all sin, and I will fear neither death nor hell.

November 7: From sudden and unprovided death, O Lord deliver us. (300 days)

November 8: He is not a truly patient man who will suffer only so much as he shall think fit, and from whom he pleases. November 9: Grant, we beseech Thee, O Lord, that in the hour of death being strengthened by the Sacraments and cleansed of all sins, we may with joy deserve to be received into the bosom of Thy mercy. Through Christ our Lord.

Amen. (3 years)

November 10: With God, not anything, however trifling, which is suffered for God’s sake, shall go unrewarded. November 11: Be prepared to fight, if you desire to gain the victory.

November 12: Love, honour, and glory be to the Eucharistic Heart of Jesus. (300 days)

November 13: Without fighting yourself, you cannot attain the crown of patience.

November 14: If you will not suffer, you refuse to be crowned; but if you desire to be crowned, fight manfully, and endure patiently.

November 15: Thou art my Mother, O Virgin Mary; defend me lest I should ever provoke thy most beloved Son, and grant that I may always and in everything please Him. (300 days)

November 16: Without labour, there is no coming to rest; nor without fighting do we arrive at victory.

November 17: How is it possible that the life of man can be loved, since it has so much bitterness, and is subject to so many calamities and miseries?

November 18: Holy Mary, the Deliverer, pray for us and for the souls in purgatory. (300 days)

November 19: The world is condemned as deceitful and vain; and yet it is with reluctance abandoned, because the concupiscence of the flesh is so strong.

November 20: The lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes, and pride of life, draw us to the love of the world.

November 21: Jesus, Mary, and Joseph the Just, bless us now and when we die as we must. (300 days)

November 22: Always desire and pray that the Will of God may be entirely fulfilled in you.

November 23: Do not be anxious for the shadow of a great name, nor for acquaintance with many, nor for the particular love of individuals.

November 24: Jesus, Mary Joseph. 7 years)

November 25: Be prudent! Pray! And humble yourself in all things!

November 26: Divine Heart of Jesus, convert sinners, save the dying, set free the holy souls in purgatory. (300 days)

November 27: In everything, attend to yourself, what you are doing, and what you are saying; and direct your whole attention to this, that you may please God alone, and neither desire nor seek anything except God.

November 28: I adore Thee, O most Sacred Eucharistic Heart of Jesus. (300 days)

November 29: As for the sayings or doings of others, judge nothing rashly; tend to your own affairs; and so it may be brought about that you will be little or seldom disturbed.

November 30: Dear Lord Jesus, grant them eternal rest. (300 days; applicable only to the dead)

DECEMBER

December 1: Blessed and praised every moment be the most Holy and Divine Sacrament. (300 days) December 2: Never to feel any grief at all, nor to suffer any trouble of heart or body, is not the state of this present life, but of everlasting rest.

December 3: Give me, O Lord, courage to resist, patience to endure, and constancy to persevere.

December 4: O God, Thou art all-powerful; make me holy. (500 days)

December 5: Know that the love of yourself is more hurtful to you than anything in the world.

December 6: In thy conception, O Virgin Mary, thou wast immaculate; pray for us to the Father, Whose Son, Jesus, conceived of the Holy Ghost, thou didst bring forth. (300 days)

December 7: Do not desire that which you may not have.

December 8: O Mary, conceived without sin, pray for us who have recourse to thee. (300 days)

December 9: Do not seek to have that which may embarrass you and deprive you of your inward liberty. December 10: Let us, with Mary Immaculate, adore, thank, pray to and console the most sacred and well-beloved

Eucharistic Heart of Jesus. (300 days)

December 11: Grant, O Lord, that I may prudently avoid him that flatters me, and patiently bear with him that contradicts me.

December 12: Blessed be the holy and Immaculate Conception of the most Blessed Virgin Mary, Mother of God. (300 days)

December 13: This is great wisdom: Not to be moved with every kind of words, nor to give ear to the wicked, flattering siren.

December 14: Cleanse my heart and my body, O holy Mary. (300 days)

December 15: Do not take it to heart if some people think ill of you, and say of you what you are not willing to hear. December 16: Jesus, King and centre of all hearts, through the advent of Thy kingdom, grant us peace. (300 days) December 17: It is no small prudence to be silent in evil time, and to turn within to God, and not to be disturbed with the judgment of man.

December 18: Do not let your peace depend on the tongues of men; for whether they put a good or bad construction on what you do, you still are just what you are!

December 19: He who neither desires to please nor fears to displease men shall enjoy much peace. December 20: Sacred Heart of Jesus, Thy Kingdom come! (300 days)

December 21: Do not set yourself for much rest, but for great patience.

December 22: Many say many things, and therefore little credit must be given to them.

December 23: Bless the Lord, all ye His angels; ye strong in power, who perform His word. Bless the Lord, all ye His virtues; ye ministers of His, who do His will. (300 days)

December 24: It is not possible to satisfy all.

December 25: Holy, Holy, Holy, Lord God of Hosts; the heavens and the earth are full of Thy glory. (300 days) December 26: Take it not to heart, if you see others honoured and advanced, and yourself despised and debased. December 27: O Heart of love, I place all my trust in Thee; for though I fear all things from my weakness, I hope all things from Thy mercies. (300 days)

December 28: Lift up your heart to heaven, and the contempt of men on earth will not grieve you. December 29: Almighty, everlasting God, grant us an increase of faith, hope and charity; and, that we may merit to attain what Thou dost promise, grant us to love what Thou dost ordain. Through Christ our Lord. Amen. (5 years) December 30: Mortify your vices; for this will do you more good than the knowledge of many difficult questions. December 31: Praise, adoration, love, and thanksgiving be every moment given to the Eucharistic Heart of Jesus in all the tabernacles of the world and unto the end of time. Amen. (300 days)

Nihil obstat,

F. MOYNIHAN, Censor Deputatus.

Imprimatur:

@ D. MANNIX,

Archiepiscopus MeIbournensis. 10/1/1945

********

Death Can Be Joyous

THE SACRAMENT OF EXTREME UNCTION

THE REV. FRANCIS J. CONNELL, C.SS.R., S.T.D

INDEX

I. THE SACRAMENT OF THE DEPARTING

ONE of the most touching incidents narrated in Sacred Scripture is that which describes the manner in which our divine Saviour rendered assistance to a man on his deathbed. The man was a criminal, the deathbed was a cross, the time was the afternoon of the first Good Friday. On Calvary’s heights our blessed Lord was breathing forth His soul in agony. To the right and left of the cross on which He hung were set up two other crosses, bearing two robbers who were making atonement by their lives for their many deeds of injustice and violence. Suddenly the thief on the right, touched with contrition, addressed the dying Redeemer imploringly: “Lord, remember me when Thou shalt come into Thy kingdom.” And from the compassionate heart of Christ came the answer: “Amen, I say to thee, this day thou shalt be with Me in paradise” (Luke xxiii. 42, 43). Thus did the Son of God grant the grace of a happy death even to a poor outcast from society.

It is impossible to believe that He who soothed the last hours of a dying sinner with the assurance of an immediate entrance into the kingdom of heaven would be unmindful of the needs of His faithful followers in the final hours of their earthly pilgrimage. Indeed, when we remember that His plan for the sanctification of mankind included the institution of certain rites capable of conferring divine grace in abundant measure and specially adapted to the more important events and the principal needs of human life-rites which we call sacraments-it seems almost a foregone conclusion that He must have provided for the members of His Church a sacrament for the hour of death. For surely the soul needs abundant comfort and strength when it is about to pass into eternity and appear before the judgment-seat of God.

However, the Gospels contain no mention of the establishment of any sacrament of this nature by our Lord. There is, indeed, a passage in the Gospel of St. Mark relating that the apostles at Christ’s command went forth on one occasion to preach the necessity of penance “and anointed with oil many that were sick, and healed them” (Mark vi. 13). However, this ceremony can hardly have been a sacrament, since our Saviour laid down the law that Baptism must be received before the reception of any other sacrament, and those who were anointed on this occasion do not seem to have been baptized. But it must be remembered that not all the doings and sayings of our Lord are recorded in the Gospels, as St. John tells us (John xxi. 25). And so, the fact that the Gospels make no mention of the establishment by our Saviour of a special sacrament for the dying is no proof that He did not institute such a sacrament.

There is however a passage in the Epistle of St. James which furnishes an argument for the existence of a divinely established means of assisting the members of the Church in time of grave illness. The apostle writes thus: “Is any man sick among you? Let him bring in the priests of the Church, and let them pray over him, anointing him with oil in the name of the Lord. And the prayer of faith shall save the sick man, and the Lord shall raise him up, and if he be in sins, they shall be forgiven him” ( James v. 14, 15).

A careful study of this text will show that the ceremony described by St. James contains all the requirements of a sacrament. These are three-it must be an external rite, it must be capable of conferring grace, it must have been instituted by Christ. Certainly the apostle is speaking of an external rite, for he expressly details its constituent elements as the anointing of the sick person and prayers recited by the priests-evidently recited aloud, since they are the prayers of several persons acting conjointly. That this ceremony is capable of conferring grace is indicated by the expressions “shall save the sick man,” “shall raise him up,” which in the original Greek express not merely bodily alleviation but chiefly spiritual helps or supernatural graces. Moreover, St. James asserts that the ceremony will remit sins, if the sick person’s conscience is burdened; and the remission of grave sins is effected only by the infusion of grace.

The third requirement of a sacrament -that it be instituted by Christ-is not indeed explicitly ascribed by St. James to the ceremony of which he writes. However, there is some indication of this factor in the apostle’s injunction that the anointing be given “in the name of the Lord.” For, as other passages of the New Testament show (Acts ii. 38; viii. 12), this phrase is frequently used to denote that something is being done at the command and by the authority of Christ. A stronger proof is found in the general principle, acknowledged in the Church from the early centuries, that all ceremonies possessing the inherent power to confer grace have been established by Christ. Accordingly, inasmuch as St. James ascribes such a power to the ceremony of the anointing of the sick, we can conclude that our Lord Himself on some occasion before He left this earth prescribed the administration of this rite to the members of His Church afflicted with grave illness. Very probably He did this in the period between His resurrection and His ascension when, as the Scripture tells us, He appeared often to the Apostles and spoke of the kingdom of God-that is, of matters pertaining to the Christian religion.

The sacraments established by Jesus Christ are intended to be used until the end of time. St. James evidently visualized the ceremony of anointing the sick as a permanent rite in the Church; and this is corroborated by statements found in the works of the early Christian writers. Thus, it is related in the life of St. Hypatius, a holy monk who lived about the year 400, that in his early years he took care of the sick in his monastery. “And when there was need for one who was sick to be anointed with holy oil, he informed the abbot, who was a priest, and had the anointing performed by him.” St. Innocent I, who was Pope from 402 to 417, after quoting the text of St. James which we have just studied, adds: “Undoubtedly, these words are to be understood of the faithful oppressed by illness who can be anointed with the holy oil of chrism, blessed by a bishop.” The English saint, Venerable Bede, writing about 700, said: “The custom of the Church holds that the sick should be anointed with consecrated oil by the priests, and that by the added prayer they should be healed.”

Various names have been given to this sacrament. It has been known as “the imposition of hands on the sick,” “the anointing with blessed oil,” “chrism,” “the holy unction of God,” “the anointing of the sick.” The Christians of the Orient generally call it “Prayer-anointing,” and sometimes “the function of seven priests,” since that number of clergymen administer it in its solemn form in the Oriental rites. The Council of Trent designated it as “the sacrament of the departing.” The old English word for “anoint” was “anele.” Shakespeare uses it in Hamlet, Act I, Scene 5, where the spirit of Hamlet’s father complains that he was slain “unaneled”-that is, without being given the opportunity of receiving Extreme Unction.

The name applied nowadays most commonly to the sacrament which we are considering -”Extreme Unction”-has been in general use in the Latin Church since the twelfth century. The word “extreme” in this connection means “last,” and according to some scholars it has been selected for this sacrament because it confers the last of the several anointings received by a Catholic in the course of his lifetime. He has previously been anointed in Baptism, in Confirmation and-if he is a priest-in Holy Orders. Others however explain the name “Extreme Unction” in connection with the fact that it is administered toward the end of life. This explanation derives considerable probability from the fact that the name arose in the twelfth century, when the unfortunate custom prevailed of calling the priest to administer this sacrament only when it was certain that a sick person was in his last agony.

The founders of Protestantism in the sixteenth century refused to acknowledge Extreme Unction as a sacrament. Calvin even called it a “hypocritical show,” implying that in giving this rite for the welfare of the sick the Church pretends to possess a power which she does not actually possess. Most Protestants of the present day also exclude Extreme Unction from the category of sacraments, although some ministers practice a ceremony of anointing the sick, chiefly to benefit their bodily health. The High Church Anglicans and Episcopalians-Anglo-Catholics, as they call themselves-venerate and administer Extreme Unction as a sacrament; but Catholics cannot regard this administration as valid, inasmuch as Anglican and Episcopal ministers do not possess the priestly power.

It must be remembered that there is a large number of Christians in the Orient who, though not Catholics, practice substantially the same form of worship as Catholics and accept most of the doctrines believed by Catholics. They are the descendants of those Orientals who left the Catholic Church in the eleventh century, refusing to recognize the divinely instituted primacy of the Pope; and although they have been separated from Catholic unity for hundreds of years, they have true priests and bishops, because they have continued to administer Holy Orders properly. The largest group is the so-called Orthodox Church of Greece and Russia. These Orientals acknowledge the same seven sacraments as the Catholic Church. The sacrament of Extreme Unction is known to the Greeks as “Prayer-anointing” to the Russians as “anointing with oil.” The former are prone to confer it not only on the sick but even on those in good health as a preparation for Holy Communion on the more solemn feasts. Among the Russian Orthodox Christians it is given only to the sick.

II. THE LITURGY OF EXTREME UNCTION

The essential factors of Extreme Unction are the anointing of the sick person with oil and the prayer of the priest. St. James prescribed these elements when he said: “Let them pray over him (the sick person), anointing him with oil in the name of the Lord” (James v. 14) . In the language of Catholic theology the oil is called the remote matter, the anointing or unction the proximate matter, and the prayer of the priest the form.

Although the Epistle of St. James in our English version does not specify the particular kind of oil to be employed, the Church has always interpreted this passage as referring to olive oil. Indeed, the Greek word used in the original text has this specific meaning. In the Latin Church pure olive oil is employed, but the Russians sometimes add a little wine as a reminder of our Lord’s parable of the good Samaritan, who poured oil and wine into the wounds of the unfortunate traveler whom he befriended. (Luke x. 34).

Before it can serve as matter for Extreme Unction, the oil must be blessed. This requirement is not indeed mentioned by St. James, but it is consistently prescribed in the tradition of the Church from earliest times. Thus, there is extant a book of prayers used by a bishop of the fourth century named Serapion, containing the formula to be employed in the blessing of oil for the sick. The blessing is so important that if unblessed oil were accidentally used, the sacrament would be null and void. In the Latin Church the oil is blessed solemnly on Holy Thursday by each diocesan bishop for the priests of his diocese. The blessing takes place in the solemn Mass before the Pater Noster. In the Eastern Churches the oil of the sick is usually blessed by priests, who receive the power to give this blessing from the Pope. A portion of the prayer which the bishop recites in the Latin rite for the blessing of this oil is as follows: “Send forth, we beseech Thee, O Lord, the Holy Ghost, Thy Paraclete, from the heavens into this rich olive oil which Thou hast deigned to produce from a flourishing tree for the refreshment of soul and of body; so that for every one who is anointed with this ointment of heavenly medicine it may be a protection of soul and of body to dispel all pains and infirmities and all spiritual and physical ailment.”

While our Lord evidently prescribed the anointing of the sick person’s body as the proximate matter of Extreme Unction, He did not determine the precise manner in which this is to be done, but left it to be specified by the legislation of the Church. Accordingly, there has been a great diversity in the course of time, both as to the number of unctions and the portions of the body anointed. In some places it was the custom to anoint the sick person only on the head, while in other regions as many as fifteen anointings were given. Frequently the neck, the shoulders and the breast, in addition to the five senses, were anointed. Even today in the churches of the East a variety of customs prevails in this matter, the number of unctions ranging from four to seven. Some Oriental Catholic priests anoint in the same way as priests of the Latin rite, while others anoint the forehead, the chin, the cheeks, the breast, the hands and the feet (Kilker, Extreme Unction, p. 67).

In the Latin rite at the present day the priest anoints the sick person in six parts of the body -the eyes, the ears, the nostrils, the mouth, the hands and the feet. These particular senses and members are appropriately selected to receive the sacred unction because it is through the use of one or more of these bodily organs that most sins are committed, and hence they stand in special need of spiritual strength. The anointings are made in the form of a cross, the sign of salvation, which comforts the dying Christian with the assurance that he has received through the death of Christ a claim to eternal life. The hands are anointed on the palms, except in the case of a priest, who receives this unction on the back of his hands, because the palms and fingers have been hallowed by contact with the sacrament of our Lord’s Body and Blood, so that it seems incongruous to imply that they have been defiled by sin (Kilker, Extreme Unction, p. 370).

The anointing of the feet can be omitted for any reasonable cause. This would be the case if the sick person’s feet were swathed in bandages, or if he had been stricken down fully clothed in the street, where it would be difficult to remove his shoes and stockings. Furthermore, the Church has decreed that in case of necessity-which would occur especially if death were imminent or if it is only probable that the person is still alive-the priest may give this sacrament with only one unction. This single anointing is preferably made on the forehead, but it can be given on any part of the body. This bears out the statement made before-that our Lord requires for the administration of Extreme Unction only that the sick person be anointed, and allows the Church to determine the manner and the number of the anointings. It is interesting to note that the priest is permitted, for a very grave reason, to use a brush or other similar instrument to perform the anointing. This could be done if the recipient were afflicted with a serious contagious disease.

The form of the sacrament, or the prayer recited at each unction, in the Latin rite is: “Through this holy anointing and His most benign mercy, may the Lord pardon thee whatever transgressions thou hast committed by sight (or ‘hearing,’ ‘smell,’ ‘taste and speech,’ ‘touch’ and ‘walking’) Amen.” Before and after the anointings, very beautiful prayers are recited by the priest, if time permits. When, however, the sacrament is conferred with a single anointing, in urgent necessity, the words spoken by the priest are simply: “Through this holy anointing may the Lord pardon thee whatever transgressions thou hast committed. Amen.”

As in the methods of anointing, so in the words used for the administration of Extreme Unction there has been much variation in the course of time. Evidently our Lord has prescribed nothing more regarding the form than that it express a petition to God for the welfare of the sick person. Some of the ancient forms were more explicit in asking bodily health than spiritual benefits; however, these latter were mentioned in the prayers immediately preceding the anointing. The form used in the Greek Church is more lengthy than that employed in the Latin rite and asks that the Almighty, through the love He bears to our Saviour, may free the recipient from illness of both soul and body. This prayer also invokes the intercession of our Blessed Lady and several of the saints, particularly SS. Cosmas and Damian, who were physicians (Kern, De Extrema Unctione, p. 142) .

Extreme Unction is given nowadays as the last of the sacraments for the dying, following Penance and the Holy Eucharist. In the early centuries it was more usual to administer Extreme Unction after Penance and before the Holy Eucharist, the idea being that the dying person would be thus purified more perfectly from the remains of sin and rendered more worthy to receive the benefits of Holy Communion. Even today a priest could anoint a sick person before giving him the Viaticum if there were a good reason for such a change-for example, if he happened to have the holy oil with him but not the Blessed Sacrament, and feared that the dying person might not survive until he had gone to the church for the Holy Eucharist and returned. And of course, after a person has received Extreme Unction he may receive Holy Communion as Viaticum subsequently, even every day, as long as he is in danger of death.

Only a priest can administer Extreme Unction. One might argue that if a lay person is empowered to baptize in case of necessity, and even to administer the Viaticum to a dying Catholic when no priest can be had, he could in the same circumstances give Extreme Unction. But such a conclusion is opposed to the constant tradition and practice of the Church, the authentic interpreter of Christ’s doctrines and laws. The Church bases its teaching on the words of St. James: “Let him call in the priests of the Church.” The word used in this text for “priests” in the original Greek primarily signifies “elders”; but in the language of the New Testament, especially in conjunction with the words “of the Church” it designates those who have been ordained to the priesthood (e. g., Acts xx. 17, 28).

In the Oriental Churches several priests join in the administration of Extreme Unction, when they can be obtained- if possible, seven. This was also the custom in the Latin Church in the early ages; and it is more in accordance with the use of the plural priests by St. James. Nowadays, however, in the Latin rite only one priest administers this sacrament.

Any priest has the power to confer Extreme Unction validly, even outside his own parish or diocese. However, by the law of the Church each pastor is the ordinary minister of this sacrament within the limits of his own parish; and either he or one of his assistants should be summoned when someone in the parish is in need of the last rites. Of course, when a person is in imminent danger of death, the nearest priest should be called at once.

The Church commands that special reverence be manifested toward the consecrated oil intended for the anointing of the sick. Usually it is kept, together with the other two kinds of blessed oil, chrism and the oil of catechumens, in a small closet, known as an ambry, placed in the sanctuary or the sacristy of the church. These holy oils are preserved in small metal tubes, called oil stocks. Every Holy Week, after the bishop has blessed the new oils in his cathedral, they are apportioned to the several parishes as soon as possible, and from this time on must be used, the oils of the previous year being burned, usually in the sanctuary lamp.

III. THE BLESSINGS OF EXTREME UNCTION

The benefits conferred by Extreme Unction can be classified under two general headings-those bestowed on the soul and those conferred on the body. The former are the more important, and consist of supernatural graces. Like all the other sacraments, Extreme Unction imparts grace to all who receive it worthily. And like all the other sacraments it gives a twofold grace-sanctifying and sacramental.

All the sacraments are intended to give sanctifying grace to the soul at the very moment they are received. Baptism and Penance are primarily intended to bestow this divine quality on souls that are dead in sin; hence they are called sacraments of the dead. The other five sacraments are primarily intended to give an increase of grace to souls already living the supernatural life of sanctifying grace, and accordingly are known as sacraments of the living. The measure of sanctifying grace which a sacrament confers is proportionate to the fervor with which one prepares for its reception. However, the preparation need not be made immediately before the sacrament is administered. Thus, a good Catholic could prepare himself over a period of years for the reception of Extreme Unction, by praying devoutly every day that he may be privileged to receive this sacrament when his time comes, and that he may derive abundant fruit from its reception. One who disposes his soul in this way will undoubtedly procure rich graces from Extreme Unction, even though he is suddenly stricken unconscious and is unable to make any immediate preparation for this sacrament.

Since Extreme Unction is intended primarily for those already in possession of sanctifying grace, one who would deliberately receive it in mortal sin would be guilty of a grave sacrilege. Sometimes it happens that a careless Catholic is suddenly bereft of his senses and being in danger of death is anointed. If his soul is burdened with mortal sin for which he has not made an act of contrition (at least imperfect) Extreme Unction gives him no grace. However, the reception of the sacrament does not add to his guilt, because he was unable to realize that it was being administered unfruitfully.

A person in mortal sin before receiving Extreme Unction should ordinarily go to confession. For, the law of God commands that one guilty of grievous sin shall receive the Sacrament of Penance before his death; moreover, Holy Communion is normally received at the same time that one is anointed, and the worthy reception of the Holy Eucharist in the case we are considering requires previous sacramental confession. However, strictly speaking, one in mortal sin can dispose himself for a worthy reception of Extreme Unction-if for some reason he is not receiving also the Holy Eucharist-merely by an act of perfect contrition. However, he must be able to foresee with great probability that he will have an opportunity of going to confession before death, and must intend to make use of that opportunity. There are even occasions when a person in mortal sin can obtain the pardon of his sins and acquire the state of grace from Extreme Unction. In other words, this sacrament, though meant primarily as a sacrament of the living, can at times perform the functions of a sacrament of the dead. Theologians come to this conclusion from the words of St. James: “If he be in sins, they shall be forgiven him” (James v. 15). It is necessary that the person in question receive Extreme Unction with good faith and attrition. This means: first that he is not aware that he is indisposed for the proper reception of this sacrament; which would be the case especially when he is unconscious. Secondly, he must be sorry for his sins because by them he deserves God’s punishments or because they are so heinous in the light of Christian principles or because of some other motive derived from faith but not including love of God* This kind of contrition—imperfect contrition, or attrition, *If a person were sorry for his sins because they are opposed to the love that is due to God, he would be making an act of perfect contrition and would be in the state of grace before receiving the sacrament. We are considering the case of one who receives the state of grace from the reception of Extreme Unction. as it is called -does not suffice of itself to restore one to the state of grace, but when it is supplemented with the efficacy of Extreme Unction the soul of the sinner is purified and enriched with the divine life of sanctifying grace. We can readily understand how one who has the faith, even though he may have been guilty of many sins, would instinctively repent of his sins, at least out of fear of God’s justice, if he were suddenly stricken and had even a moment of consciousness; and doubtless, there are many poor sinners who are saved in this manner by Extreme Unction. As is evident, grave sins forgiven by this sacrament must subsequently be confessed, if this is possible.

The sacramental grace given by a sacrament is a special mode of supernatural help annexed to the sanctifying grace, enabling the recipient to attain the purpose of the particular sacrament. Thus, the sacramental grace of Holy Orders helps the priest to fulfill the duties of his sacred ministry, the sacramental grace of Matrimony helps the married couple to be faithful to the grave obligations of the marital state. Theologians are not fully in agreement as to what constitutes the special sacramental grace of Extreme Unction, because this sacrament produces a number of beneficial effects and it is not easy to determine which is the predominating grace. Accordingly., some have regarded as the chief sacramental grace of this sacrament the remission of venial sins, others have viewed it as the removal of the remains of sin, etc.

A very probable and consoling view that has gained the approval of many theologians in recent years proposes as the main purpose of Extreme Unction the preparation of the soul for immediate entrance into heaven. These theologians believe that our Lord established this sacrament to enable the faithful to pass directly from the present life to everlasting happiness without being obliged to remain even for a moment in purgatory. It might be objected to this doctrine that if the purpose of Extreme Unction is to render the soul worthy of heaven immediately after death, it is unnecessary to pray for those of our departed relatives and friends who were anointed before they passed away. To this we reply: first, the view we have expounded is by no means certain, but is only probable; hence, we are not sure that even those who have received Extreme Unction with the most fervent dispositions are now in heaven. Second, even if this opinion is true, we cannot be sure that any particular individual had the requisite dispositions when he was anointed. Accordingly, while we can ardently hope that our Lord has actually endowed this sacrament with the power to prepare for immediate entrance into heaven the souls of those who receive it with the proper sentiments of faith, humility, and especially with contrition for all their sins, we should continue to pray for the faithful departed.

In the supposition that this view is correct, one of the effects of Extreme Unction -indeed, its chief sacramental grace, it would seem-is the remission of all the temporal punishment that burdens the soul of the recipient and constitutes an obstacle to his immediate admission into heaven. However, abstracting from this mooted question, it is certain that among the sacramental graces of Extreme Unction is to be reckoned the strengthening of the soul of the sick person, so that he is able to endure the sufferings of his last hours with courage and serenity. Doctors and nurses who have had extensive experience with Catholic patients, even though they themselves may be non-Catholics, admit unhesitatingly that dying persons are rendered calm and cheerful by the reception of this sacrament. Another sacramental grace of Extreme Unction is certainly the removal of some of the remains of sin, such as the weakness of will and the excessive affection for the present life, which cling tenaciously to the soul even after it has been purified of its sins.

That Extreme Unction is intended to contribute toward the recipient’s bodily as well as spiritual health has been the constant belief of the Catholic Church. However, two important points must be noted. First, this effect is dependent on the spiritual objectives of the sacrament. As both the Council of Florence and the Council of Trent assert (Denzinger’s Enchiridion, nn. 700, 909), Extreme Unction is profitable to bodily health “when this is expedient to health of soul.” In His infinite wisdom God knows that sometimes the very restoration to health would constitute for the sick person a grave occasion of sin, and in such a case the Almighty would certainly not endow a sacrament with power to promote the recipient’s spiritual harm. It is infinitely preferable to die in the state of grace than to be restored to health and live a few years longer, but at the same time to fall into grievous sin and to die unforgiven.

Secondly, the manner in which Extreme Unction normally produces bodily benefits is through its beneficial effects in the soul. When a sick person’s soul is comforted and strengthened, it is quite natural that his bodily condition should improve and that he should have better prospects of recovery. Hence, by giving fortitude and joy to the souls of the sick, Extreme Unction exerts indirectly a salutary effect on their bodies. Of course, there are times when God directly and almost miraculously restores bodily health to one who has been anointed, but this is to be ascribed to His fatherly tenderness rather than to the normal efficacy of Extreme Unction.

A practical conclusion from this doctrine is that a Catholic should be anointed as soon as it is even probable that he is in danger of death from sickness or accident or old age, so that an opportunity may be given the sacrament to confer its physical benefits. For if the administration of the sacred rite is deferred until the patient is at the point of death, his bodily forces will be so weakened that a favorable reaction to the spiritual effects of the sacrament cannot reasonably be expected.

IV. WHO SHOULD BE ANOINTED?

Only a baptized person is capable of receiving Extreme Unction. For it is a law laid down by Christ Himself that a person must be spiritually reborn by Baptism before any other sacrament can be administered to him. If through mistake a priest would anoint an unbaptized person-as might happen after a disastrous battle when many soldiers are dying-the sacrament would be null and void.

To receive Extreme Unction it is also necessary that a person have come to the use of reason. He need not possess the power of intelligence at the actual time when the sacrament is given. He may be unconscious or insane; but he must at one time have been capable of at least that measure of intellectual activity that a child can exercise when it is about seven years of age. Accordingly, very young children and those unfortunates who are equivalent to little children by reason of their stunted intellectual growth cannot be anointed. This requirement of the age of reason is implied in the text of St. James, inasmuch as he prescribes that the sick person himself shall call for the priests-something that can be done only by one who has come to the use of intelligence. The best argument, however, is the immemorial practice of the Church, the authoritative interpreter of Christ’s law. Ecclesiastical legislation always prescribed that the recipient of this sacrament be one who had reached the years of discretion. Indeed, in the Middle Ages and even down to the sixteenth century it was the custom in some sections of Europe to anoint no one below the age of fourteen or even eighteen years. Nowadays the law of the Church demands only probability that a child has reached the use of reason in order that he may be permitted to receive Extreme Unction. At times even a child of five endowed with exceptional mental ability could be anointed, at least conditionally, if it were in danger of death; and in such circumstances the parents of the child should not hesitate to summon the priest.

The recipient must have the intention of receiving Extreme Unction, since this is a general requisite for the reception of any sacrament by one who has acquired the use of reason. As St. Augustine puts it: “He that made thee without thy consent does not sanctify thee without thy consent.” However, it is not necessary to have an explicit intention, made at the actual time when the sacrament is administered. A general intention made at some previous time carries over sufficiently into the reception of the last rites. Thus, when a person lives as a Catholic he naturally intends to die as a Catholic, and in this is contained the purpose of receiving the sacraments of the dying when they are needed. And even though one may be neglectful in the fulfillment of his Catholic duties, he presumably wishes to be reconciled to God before death, and a priest would anoint such a person if he were dying unconscious. Indeed, it is an illustration of the loving mercy of the Catholic Church toward even her unfaithful children that a Catholic bereft of consciousness in the very act of sin and in danger of death can be anointed. For, despite his transgressions he would in all likelihood desire the sacraments if he knew that death were at hand, and it may well be that in his last conscious moment he made an act of contrition for his sins. But, as is very evident, one who deliberately and explicitly refuses to receive Extreme Unction cannot be anointed.

To receive Extreme Unction a person must be in danger of death from some cause that is actually affecting his bodily condition. This may consist in a serious ailment, or in a wound or in that advanced old age which brings such grave debility that death is liable to occur suddenly at any time. The passage of St. James referring to this sacrament does not specify that the illness must be such as to render death likely; although the fact that the sick man cannot leave the house but must have the priests visit him indicates more than a slight ailment. But the tradition of the Catholic Church from the beginning has commonly regarded the sacramental anointing of the sick as intended only for persons in danger of death. As was stated previously, the Greek Churches separated from the Catholic Church have the custom of anointing not only those who are slightly ill but sometimes even those in perfect health. However, their own ancient writings show that this was not the usual practice in the Orient in the early centuries when the Eastern Christians were members of the Catholic Church.

It is important to note that the danger of death must arise from some cause actually affecting the body. The mere fact that one is in danger of death, even though it be certain, does not of itself justify the administration of Extreme Unction. Thus, a criminal about to be executed cannot be anointed, although he can receive Holy Communion as Viaticum, without fasting. The reason is that Extreme Unction is intended precisely to alleviate persons suffering from the mental and bodily weakness that normally follows from serious illness; and hence, if one is not actually afflicted with some form of grave ailment he is not capable of receiving this sacrament, even though he is about to die from some extraneous cause.

It is now a recognized medical principle that real death may not take place until several hours after apparent death. In other words, all signs of life may have ceased, yet the soul may still be in the body. The Catholic Church allows priests to act on this principle, by administering Extreme Unction to one who has been suddenly stricken down and has apparently been dead for three or four hours. Hence, when a Catholic has been the victim of an accident or a stroke and is seemingly lifeless a priest should be called as soon as possible, so that he may anoint the unfortunate person conditionally-that is, with the intention of giving the sacrament only on condition that life still remains.

It must always be remembered that a person can be anointed even if the danger of death is only probable. It is most regrettable that some Catholics, otherwise devout and faithful to their religious duties, hesitate to summon a priest when a member of the family is seriously ill, and because of this it not infrequently happens that a Catholic dies without the sacraments. Those who act thus protest that if the priest appears at the sickbed the patient will become disheartened and more liable to die. But this argument is utterly unsound, for in the first place, experience shows that the sick are usually quite happy to see the priest and to receive the sacraments, and that instead of inducing discouragement, Extreme Unction imparts a feeling of serenity and cheerfulness that is most helpful toward the sick person’s bodily condition. Secondly, even if his death were somewhat accelerated by his being informed of his dangerous state, is it not better that this should happen than that he should die without the sacraments, and thus be obliged to suffer much longer in purgatory or even to be condemned to the everlasting torments of hell? The relatives of a dying Catholic who refrain from calling a priest under the pretext of kindness to their dear one, are in reality guilty of cruel and un-Christian conduct.

Can one who is baptized on his deathbed receive Extreme Unction immediately afterward? It might seem that he does not need this sacrament, since his sins and all the punishment due to them have been remitted by Baptism and there is nothing to hinder his immediate admission to heaven. However, the Church has decreed that such a person can and should be anointed. For he can obtain an increase of grace, courage and strength, and his soul can receive its final adornment to fit it for the kingdom of Christ. Similarly, we can argue that our Blessed Lady received Extreme Unction before her death. She had indeed no sins nor remains of sin nor proclivity to sin; yet as long as she lived she could receive more grace, and so we can reasonably suppose that when the hour of her departure drew nigh, the beloved disciple of St. John anointed her virginal body so that her pure soul might receive its final perfection of grace before entering into the eternal joys of paradise.

Extreme Unction can be received only once in the same dangerous illness. Even though it has been received unworthily, it cannot be repeated; however, in such a case the recipient can subsequently obtain its beneficial effects by recovering the state of grace. Of course, if a person has regained his health after receiving this sacrament, and later in life falls into another dangerous illness, he can and should be anointed again. In fact, one suffering from a chronic ailment who survives for a considerable time after receiving this sacrament-three or four months, for example-can be anointed again on the presumption that there must have been some fluctuation in the condition of his health during the interval, so that his present state can be regarded as a new illness. Some theologians think that the repetition of Extreme Unction in the same sickness, though unlawful because of the prohibition of the Church, would be a valid sacramental rite; but the majority believe that it would be null and void.

Is a dying Catholic obliged to receive Extreme Unction? This sacrament is not indeed necessary in the same manner as are Baptism and Penance, which are of obligation as means to salvation-the former for all human beings, the latter for those who have sinned mortally after Baptism. Nor are theologians agreed as to whether there is a law of Christ or of the Church making the reception of Extreme Unction necessary by reason of grave precept. However, no practical Catholic would refuse to be anointed when he is told that he should prepare for the last rites. On the contrary, all Catholics should make it one of the objects of their prayers-especially of their petitions to St. Joseph, the patron of a happy death-that they may have the happiness to receive the sacred unction of this sublime sacrament when they are entering into the valley of the shadow of death. For through the fervent reception of Extreme Unction not only are the terrors of death removed and the pains of the last hour soothed, but the passing into eternity is rendered positively joyous. For this grace let us often pray in the words of the indulgenced ejaculations:

Jesus, Mary, Joseph, I give you my heart and my

Jesus, Mary, Joseph, assist me in my last agony.

Jesus, Mary, Joseph, may I breathe forth my soul in peace with you.

Imprimi Potest:

Brooklyn, N. Y., February 8, 1940. Nihil Obstat:

Imprimatur:

New York, March 19, 1940.

WILLIAM T. McCARTY, C.SS.R., Provincial Superior.

ARTHUR J. SCANLAN, S.T.D., Censor Librorum.

@ FRANCIS J. SPELLMAN, D.D., Archbishop of New York.

********

Death Isn’t Terrible

BY REV. DANIEL A. LORD, S.J

INDEX

THE Letter was indignant and at the same time entirely honest. It sailed into me with clenched fists, for the writer was angry, puzzled, annoyed with me and perplexed with God.

I had recently written a little piece about the big earthquake in Chile. I mentioned the horrible fact that the great Catholic country had been torn open by an earth tremor that was less a tremor and more a convulsion and that as a consequence churches had been destroyed and some thousands of people killed. All this I used as prelude to an appeal to American Catholics to play good neighbour to our Catholic fellow-Americans below the Isthmus.

The letter, it seems, was written after that piece had been read. But the writer paid little attention to my appeal for charity. He picked out quite another factor.

“Oh, yes,” went the letter, after a preamble: “I’ll be happy to contribute to suffering Chilean Catholics. But what puzzles me is how a good God can wipe out thousands like that in a frightful earthquake. Men can be charitable-are in fact obliged to be-but God can shake the earth and hurl thousands headlong into their graves. It doesn’t make sense. Death like that is a terrible thing.”

BACK TO EGYPT

I read this letter with a sharp throwback to another letter I had received some years ago. That letter came from a non-Catholic young woman. She had for some time been flirting with the idea of becoming a Catholic, and though personally I knew her but slightly, our correspondence had assumed considerable bulk as back and forth we argued the claims of God and the position of the Church. Finally I got a brief note from her. It simply said: “Maybe I would be interested in religion and the Church if it were not for Pharaoh’s soldiers.”

That stumped me. What in the world had the soldiers of the long-dead kings of Egypt to do with this girl’s finding faith in God and His Church? It sounded as silly as if she had said, “I’d be a Catholic except for the fact that grass and Easter eggs are such a funny shade of green,” or “I’d accept God if it weren’t for my worries about the neglected penguins of the South Pole.” Pharaoh’s soldiers?. . . . . . Faith?. . . . . . . Whatever was the connection?

My answer was a politely phrased demand for further enlightenment. That came very promptly.

“GOD IS CRUEL”

I can’t accept a God,” she stormed, in too flippant form, “who would do the cruel thing that your God did to the poor Egyptian army. Oh, I’m perfectly willing to admit that the Pharaoh was probably a bad ‘un. He was a tyrant and an oppressor and a villain. He treated the Jewish people like dogs, and he deserved everything God did to him. So when he got himself nicely right in the midst of the Red Sea and God blanketed him under the waves, God did the right thing!

“But what about his soldiers?

“They probably had no resentment or grudge against the Jews. They got their orders to pursue the fleeing Israelites, and they had to obey-or else. I’m sure it never occurred to any of them that they were ‘doing wrong. They probably were entirely guiltless of any sin. And what happened? They get into the midst of the Red Sea, and suddenly God drowns them all along with their king. I could see why God drowned the guilty Pharaoh. But I can’t believe in a God who wiped out a lot of soldiers whose only crime was that they obeyed orders and who were plunged into death in the prime of life and with not a chance to save themselves. Frankly, I don’t like your God.”

RESENTMENT AGAINST DEATH

You see though they were very differently phrased, the two letters really were much alike. In substance they both maintained that death was a terrible thing. But God is the author of death. Therefore God is a sort of mass killer, to put it in gangster language.

Of course the letters interested me chiefly because they are typical of a widely held point of view. A popular novel of a few years ago, “Grapes of Wrath,” describes the attitude that a certain group of poverty-stricken Americans have toward death. If an old man died, they did not much mind his resting in a pauper’s grave in a potter’s field. After all, he had known the joys of life; he had tasted some of its good things; he had at least lived. But when a child died, everyone, friends and neighbours and chance acquaintances, contributed to pay for a real funeral. The poor Child, they thought, had had nothing out of life, so at least they would give him a fine funeral. Since he had been cheated of everything else that life could offer, they were determined that he would not be cheated of a coffin, a marked grave, the pomp and circumstance of a dignified burial.

ANGRY WITH GOD

Sometimes one is amazed to find how many people have given up God simply because of the death of a person they loved. A young husband loses his wife; he lifts his fist and curses the cruel God who snatched this girl in her beauty and her romantic love, and he kneels to Him no more. A mother holds her dead child against her heart and feels that heart turn bitter in hatred. She can no longer love the God who killed her baby.

That note runs through much of modern literature: Death is a cruel, vicious, relentless enemy; it stalks the human breed and in the end, with one last hyena laugh, claims its victim; a God responsible for so ugly an enemy must Himself be ugly.

So you walk through cemeteries that are supposed to contain the bodies of buried Christians, and you find there the most frankly pagan of death the destroyer. Death is symbolized by a broken column; life has been smashed and ruined by the blow of cruel death. Death is an extinguished torch-the light and warmth and brightness of life ended. At the tomb stands a weeping angel, his-more frequently her-head bowed in hopeless grief. Death is presented snatching the chisel from the hands of the great sculptor. Death binds the eyes that once were bright in love and anticipation. Death is the grim reaper, who cackles in the back of his skeleton throat as he swings his scythe. And wheat and Weeds and summer flowers all fall as his cruel blade swings through the once-golden fields.

THE END

That note of hopelessness in the face of death runs right through the words of modern writers. Another novel of a few years ago, “And Tell of Time,” is concerned with upperclass people in the southern United States-all of them or the majority of them Episcopalians-of Civil War days. The book is sufficiently long to make it necessary for a fair number of the characters to die. They die, and that’s pretty much that. Their days are done. Their story is sealed when the spade gently pats the last black clod of earth on the grave. They lived richly or poorly, splendidly or cheaply; but the outstanding fact is that they have lived, they have died, and with death their story is cut short, a history without a real conclusion.

Now man is always going to think about and be troubled by death. And always he is going to look around for reasons that will make death perhaps a little less terrible. Thornton Wilder did this in his very successful play “Our Town.” The last scene is laid in a graveyard, the sad little cemetery of Grover’s Corners in New Hampshire.

HOPE SPEAKS

The stage manager, who is really the principal character of the play, leans against the proscenium and, after telling us what people are buried there says, with an obvious effort at reassurance:

“Now I’m going to tell you some things you know already. You know’m as well as I do; but you don’t take’m out and look at’m very often. I don’t care what they say with their mouths-everybody knows that SOMETHING is eternal. And it ain’t houses and it ain’t names, and it ain’t earth, and it ain’t even the stars. . . . everybody knows in their bones that SOMETHING is eternal, and that something has to do with human beings. All the greatest people ever lived have been telling us that for five thousand years and yet you’d be surprised how people are always losing hold of it.”

That is consoling. But once Mr. Wilder lets the dead in the cemetery take over, we begin to think less highly of that eternal existence that follows death. His dead are a little too like the pale, flitting ghosts of a spiritualistic seance. They don’t seem to be able to get away from the cold earth of the grave. They certainly are taking a lot of time to find the Christian heaven.

SOME REASSURANCE

Still that play is just one of the modern attempts to prove that death isn’t terrible. One might expect it from the author of “The Bridge of San Luis Rey.” You remember that that novel was the record of what seemed a horrible catastrophe. A group of people on a bridge were plunged to death when that bridge fell. The onlookers and the relatives cried out, “How cruel of God!” But a little probing into the lives of those people proved that God had chosen precisely the right moment for each of them to die. They had had enough of life. They had reached or passed life’s climax. In each case death was merely the crowning of a life quite completed, an existence nicely rounded off.

KINDLY DEATH

Another attitude taken to convince us moderns that death is not terrible is the one found in those successful plays “Death Takes a Holiday” and “On Borrowed Time.” If death stopped short his operations, runs the dramatic thesis, the world would be a horrible place. Death is not really terrible; death is merciful, gentle, kind. The earth is full of misery and unhappiness, and death, dear and benevolent death, releases men and women. If death stopped, went on a holiday, got caught in the branches of some magical tree, the poor old woman struggling in the last stages of cancer would have to continue on in her torture; the man smashed in the machinery at the plant couldn’t find merciful release in death but would be obliged to continue in the agony of pain; the old man tired of the load of his years could not lay down his load in endless rest; the beautiful girl along whose path lie a thousand ugly, vicious things would have to walk that path from which death might chivalrously have snatched her.

In other words death is kindly, not because what he gives is dear and beautiful, but because like some black-armoured knight he rescues men and women from the dragons and racks and, dungeons and torture chambers of earth. Death is merciful because death is the end of this annoying, oppressive, wearisome, agonizing life.

Personally I find all that pretty poor reason for thinking of death as a great benefactor. Release from life is often an apparent blessing. But mere release from life is a turning out of the light, and I’m not one to think that darkness is charming or beautiful or warm.

AN OLD FEAR

Now no real Christian ever thinks that death is terrible.

The modern viewpoint on death is not modern at all. It is as old as paganism. It’s a viewpoint that would have been understood by the ancient Babylonians, who clung to life because it was warm, and dreaded the grave because it was cold, and looked forward to the future with troubled eyes because it was so vague and uncertain. It’s a viewpoint with which a Roman Emperor could have sympathized entirely. Death was a mighty enemy, the one enemy his sentries could not drive away from the palace door, the one foe who would snatch the laurel wreath from his forehead and tumble him down like an unbalanced sack of grain on to the mosaic floor of his throne room. A pagan mother holding her dead child in her arms, certain that she would never see that child again, would understand the bitterness in the heart of the modern mother who had lost her child. Dead love was for a pagan a love finished and done with.

Oh there was something behind the grave. They were all sure of that. They knew that they would live. But how? In what form? What assurances had they that life was worth having? What certainty of seeing their beloved again, of caring and being loved, even should there be in that misty land of the shades such a reunion?

The unknown, the uncertain is almost always terrible. And what lay beyond death’s felling stroke was unknown, uncertain. So the pagan looked on death and turned away hurriedly to forget if possible the unforgettable, to brush aside with war or work or pleasure or money or friendship or love the gaunt figure that finally caught and pulled with relentless insistence the nervous hand

ONLY EARTH

The pagan only knew this earth. And death took all of that. So the poets sighed wistfully as they looked upon the calm, gorgeously beautiful woman and thought of her inevitable decay. The rich man sat among his treasures and watched each opening of the door that might admit the beckoning figure of death, who would snatch him away from all this comfortable, reassuring wealth. The scholar tried to crowd his days and nights with learning; there would be no further learning when his brain chilled at death’s icy touch. The mother held her children in fiercely protective arms; if death once caught them, they were gone from her forever.

And all the time around the pagan the flowers wilted and died, summer went down into the symbolic death of winter, bells tolled for the passing soul, the face of the young bride became the withered mask of death-expectant age, the strong man stumbled for the last time and dropped out of sight into the earth, the slaves stood above the master before whom lately they had cowered and knew that they were now the strong ones-for they had life, and he was now a slave to death.

All the phrases that paganism has constantly associated with death are phrases of horror. Death was inevitable. They hated it. It took away from them the dear richness of earth. Be they the pagans of yesterday who craned their necks at newly-erected pyramids or walked back from the funeral of Alexander or the assassination of Julius Caesar, or the pagans of to-day who ride in twelve-cylinder cars or mount the lecture platforms of great universities-pagans have always seen in death the enemy, the robber, the relentless foe of man’s happiness.

THE IMPORTANT IF

Well obviously enough IF earth were all, then death would be terrible. Or IF the future held only the wraithlike existence expected by paganism, death would be cruel.

Christ caught that viewpoint when He said that death comes like a thief.

Obviously what Christ was thinking of was the unexpectedness of death. Certainly no one ever expects the arrival of the thief. Certainly no one ever expects the arrival of death. The thief prowls around the darkened house. He finds a slightly open window. Noiselessly he -slides it upward. With skilled quiet he throws a leg over the sill, poises for a moment above the quiet room, drops like a cat upon the carpet. He has come, and the family sleeps on unconscious of his arrival.

Christ, master of words that in a compressed sentence give an entire picture, could have selected no more perfect figure of speech ton the unexpected coming of death.

THE GREAT THIEF

But as far as the earth is concerned, Christ was quite in agreement with the pagans. Death was and always will be a thief. He steals from the rich their riches and from the poor their poverty. He strips the strong of their strength and the weak of their last faint struggle. He tears away the mask of beauty and the shield of power. From the famous he steals the fame of which they were so sure. He erases with scratching finger names from tombs and records from history. He asks the householder for his newly erected house. He forecloses his mortgage on the factory. He takes their skills from the artists, their voices from the singers.

SIMPLE CONSEQUENCES

Trite? Stale? The sort of thing that everyone has said because everyone has known it from repeated experience? I quite agree.

But all this I merely repeat because if earth were all then death would be terrible, as all thieves are terrible when no bars can keep them out and no law can clap them into safe confinement and no vigilance is strong against their skilful, depredations.

But the simple reasoning of the man who has belief is very different. There is a God, who is Our Father.

That God has placed in our soul the desire for perfect happiness.

He has guaranteed that we will find that perfect happiness in the immortality that is ours.

For we shall find that death is only the beginning of life.

Our real life starts when death, having opened briefly the black door that is the grave, has ushered us into the presence of Our Father who is in heaven.

THE UGLY OBVERSE

All that of course is the exact, opposite of what the pagan believes and the doubter cherishes as the truth about man’s destiny.

The unbeliever, the pagan of today who has given up all faith and hope of anything beyond the horizon of this life, has a reasoning process that is brief, ugly, and terrifying.

There is no God.

Hence for man there is no immortality, no life after death.

Therefore death is the end. It is the full stop. It is the last chord in the unfinished symphony of man’s discordant existence. It is the period placed at the conclusion of one instalment of a serial story that has no final chapter. It is the cutting of the fragile thread by which man hangs suspended between two blacknesses. It is the dropping of a man s body into a deep cut in the earth. It is the dropping of man’s personality into the swift quicklime of human forgetfulness.

If this is true, then death is terrible.

FEAR WITHOUT REASONS

But I am alarmed to think that some people who have faith share the horrible pagan idea that death is terrible, when their faith and their reason should lead them to such an entirely different conclusion.

Let’s look at the Christian viewpoint once more. I say” once more” because I am frank enough to admit that there is nothing even slightly new in what I have to say. I am repeating what civilized man has known for almost two thousand years-Christ’s revelation about death-and what the Jewish people for twice that long before our era knew, though in less perfect form and without the added clarity that came from Christ.

I repeat it simply because I know that we Christians live surrounded by pagan foggy thinking and emotional despair. We hear pagans call death terrible. We unconsciously echo their bleak hopelessness in the depths of our baptized souls.

Catholics, incredibly enough, do just this. As for non-Catholics. . . . .

TURNING FROM DEATH

Well just the other day I had what I felt was a tragic experience. Nothing external happened. It was just a case of running suddenly smack into a state of mind that left me a little sick. The lady is charming. Occasionally she attends a Protestant church. She is of course a Christian.

Said I, suddenly, in the course of the conversation, “May I ask you a question?” She was graciously willing. “Do you ever think of life after death?”

She looked frankly puzzled.

“Don’t you ever,” I persisted, “think of the day when this life of yours will end and your life beyond this life will begin?”

She shook her head slowly.

“No,” she said, with quiet emphasis. “I don’t like to think of death. I never do.”

And we turned to a subject that was less unpleasant to her than the subject of death.

CHRIST LOOKS AT DEATH

The whole Christian viewpoint should be coloured by the sunrise of Easter. The thing that made death cease to be terrible was the most terrible death the world has ever seen. That was of course the death of Christ, the death that was meant to end forever the terror of death.

Christ’s prophetic words about His own death are important and impressive. “I have,” said He, “a baptism wherewith I am to be baptized; and how am I straitened until it be accomplished?”

That word straitened meant literally to be torn apart: Christ looking forward to His death saw it as a baptism of blood. His blood would pour over His body as the waters of baptism flow aver the body of a penitent. He would actually be washed in blood. Yet He was torn apart with eagerness for that death. It was as if He could hardly wait for it.

Now the death of Christ was meant primarily to be the means of freeing us from sin. But most importantly Christ knew that His death could be the means of taking the horror out of death. He had to die for love of us, His guilty brothers and sisters. He had to play the divine Sidney Carton; He had to stand at the place of execution, disguised as me, the criminal who should be suffering capital punishment. But He was also the brave adventurer facing the enemy death and disarming him of his fearsome weapons, changing him from a dreaded foe into the beautiful messenger from God to His exiled children.

DEATH AT ITS WORST

So Christ quite deliberately died by the most awful kind of death. He chose to share our common fate of death. But He chose the sort of death that mankind could rightly regard as particularly terrible. He was to die as a rejected failure. In dying, He was to suffer the most excruciating pain. His death was to be a major catastrophe. It was to be like a horrible drowning only He would be drowned in His own blood and sunk deep in that hatred which in a tidal wave would sweep Him up and strand Him on the cross. He was to die in the midst of a frightful storm. The earth was to split and the heavens grow black and angry around Him-symbol of the storm of human passion and resentment and ingratitude that broke in full fury over His body.

From such a death might any man pray to be delivered. History, writing that page into its record, was to regard that particular death as uniquely terrible in all human experience.

VICTORY OVER DEATH

Yet St. Paul, looking at that death as he moved with conscious certainty towards his own martyrdom, could cry out in triumphant joy. Yes; Christ had died. Yes: His death had been indescribably terrible. But because of that death all death was swallowed up in victory. The enemy death was conquered. “O death, where is thy victory? O death, where is thy sting?”

The most terrible death in history ended forever the terror of death. The most frightful human catastrophe proved that death is not a catastrophe. Christ walked up the hill of Calvary, paused for a few hours on its top to struggle with death and bend death to His will, and then walked straight on into the sunrise that is Easter.

He passed through the fiasco of a criminal’s death and emerged the glorified Saviour of the world: He lay briefly in the tomb of cold death, to emerge into the radiant glory of the Resurrection.

WE FOLLOW HIS WAY

All the Christian world from that day to this has known that the path He trod was the path of all His followers. They too might walk the abbreviated road of their Calvary. They would certainly stand face to face with black death. They would know the cold dungeon of the tomb. But they had the Christlike certainty that immediately beyond all that was their own Easter. They would follow the risen Christ into the full joy of their own resurrection.

Death was no longer terrible; Christ had laid all its terrors. The grave was no longer ugly; it was the short subterranean passageway that went down by shallow steps into the earth only to mount in steep incline up to the throne of God.

THE MARTYR’S SMILE

That was the reason why the martyrs smiled when the lions, their jaws lathering and their claws unsheathed for the kill, bounded into the arena. That is why they rushed eagerly towards the stake as if it were a bright torch lighting their way home. The swift descent of the executioner’s sword served only to cut the chains that tied them to the earth of their exile. They smiled at the judge who solemnly pronounced their death sentence, thanking him for this short cut to their Father’s mansion.

They listened with understanding and relish to those mysterious words of Christ: “He that shall lose his life for Me shall find it.” They were to lose a life that was bounded by a few brief months to find a life bounded by the eternity of God. They were to lose the uncertain loves of life to find the immutable love of God’s angels and saints. Perishable beauty might be snatched from their dying eyes; those eyes would shortly open on the beauty that was divine. They might lose the life of their body; they were winning the glorious and immortal life of their soul.

If anyone had suggested that their death was terrible, they would have laughed in happy amazement. Somewhere behind the form of the executioner they saw the waiting Christ, His arms extended in welcome. The door of their opening dungeon led, not to an arena, but across a narrow strip of bloody sands to the steps that mounted to the opening gates of God’s eternal city.

A THWARTED THIEF

Christian belief has known that death is a thief, but a clumsy unskilled thief that cannot steal anything really worth while.

The ages have never forgotten that honestly dull old morality play, “Everyman.” Season after season it is repeated in some theatre, sometimes in shambling, amateurish fashion, sometimes under the skilful direction of a Max Reinhardt. According to our modern standards the creaking morality play lacks movement and dramatic punch. It is wordy. It drags. It is not clearly concerned with .any defined person but with symbolic characters, Everyman.

But the play tells the truth about death, and audiences, whatever the degree of their sophistication, whatever their racial background, drink in that truth with wistful eagerness.

For you may recall that in the play Death steals from Everyman everything to which he clings. Wealth goes, and Power and Pleasure, and Youth and Beauty, and Strength. But Death cannot take Everyman’s soul. Nor can Death take his Good Deeds. They will go with him through death into the land that lies ahead.

Wealth, Pleasure, Power, Good Deeds, and a universal person called

GOING HOME

To a Christian, death should really be a beautiful thing. Death is the trumpeter who stands on the battlements of God and sounds the call that summons the Christian home. Death is the messenger who comes to the son and the daughter that have been long absent from their Father’s house and says, “It is time now to return; your Father is waiting

The lovely story of Cardinal Wiseman’s death is typical of the way in which real Christians regard death. His biographers tell us that the old cardinal, surrounded by his ecclesiastical family, lay dying. Apparently, the deaf old gentleman did not realize that he was near the end so a whispered consultation made the watchers decide that they had better break the news gently but emphatically.

They whispered, as soothingly as possible: “Your Eminence, all men must die; your time seems to be drawing near.”

The cardinal turned shining eyes upon them. “Yes,” he cried, with sudden strength; “I know.”

They looked at one another in shocked surprise. Was the old cardinal perhaps out of his mind? This was a solemn moment, with death lifting his hand to knock at the door. They were worried. Could it be that he was already delirious?

“Your Eminence,” they whispered, “how do you feel?”

“Feel?” How strong the voice sounded! How full of resurgent youth! “I feel like a schoolboy going home for the holidays!”

There was a Christian facing death.

COMPARISONS

Life is a journey, says the tritest of comparisons. Correct. But says Shakespeare, journeys end in lovers’ meetings. Life would be horrible indeed if it were a journey that ended with lovers’ parting and eternal separation. But the journey doesn’t end that way. It ends in the greatest of lovers’ meeting-the meeting of God and His beloved sons and daughters; the meeting of Christ the bridegroom with the souls He loves unto death and means to love throughout eternal life.

Life is a battle, says another trite comparison. Still correct. Wouldn’t it be hideous if paganism were right and the end of the battle found us all-victor and vanquished, hero and coward, commander and private-dead on the field of battle? But the battle doesn’t end that way. Death is the victorious soldier’s glorious entrance under the triumphal arch. Death is the final step in the parade, the step that brings the fighter directly into the presence of Christ, his grateful king and leader.

VICTORY IS CROWNED

To me death has always seemed a vivid drama of ultimate victory. The brave soldier of Jesus Christ, faithful to the commission given him in confirmation, fights the good fight to the very end. He has had wounds in plenty. Though he has driven back the army of evil, often the army of evil has had him with his back against the wall and his arm wearily warding off what threatened to be a death stroke. He has known the privations that come with a campaign He has felt in the pit of his stomach the sickening convulsion of cowardice. He has known moments when it seemed that his cause was lost and the enemy was sweeping on to complete victory.

But he kept on fighting that only fight for which there is neither treaty nor armistice, the fight that every man and woman wages on the battlefield of their secret soul.

Then the brave soldier falls. But the blow is the blow of death and not of mortal sin. And over his head sounds a trumpet blowing, not the Last Post, but Reveille. He is dead, yet he is on his feet. His body lies cold and motionless, but his soul swings along paths of glory. This is no grim trudging back to the trenches, to some position that he must hold at whatever cost to himself. This is no stolid marching into another battle. This is the triumphant parade that follows victory.

WELCOME

The gates that are the grave swing open. The bright light breaks about him. Palms of victory wave over his head. But he has no time, no attention to waste on that. For on the steps of the throne, arms outstretched, a smile on His royal face, stands his waiting king. The soldier of Christ becomes sharply conscious of his wounds, of his torn uniform, of the moments when he was not brave in battle, of the times when he was a coward at heart and ready to go over to the enemy. He hesitated, but only for a second. How can he hesitate in the face of the welcome that he sees before him.

He falls on bended knee. A sword swings through the air and touches his shoulder in the blow of knighthood. He rises, lifts his head, and stands stiffly at attention, and the arms of Christ the grateful leader hold him close.

This to me is the reality of death. The symbolism is perfect. The comparison limps painfully. For death, victory though it be, is far, far more glorious, than any description could possibly paint it.

ALL BEGINS

Death is not terrible to Christians, for the quite simple reason that for Christians death is not the end but the beginning. I have never quite recovered from the joy that swept over me when for the first time -I learned that the Church refers to the day on which a saint has died as his birthday. That is the day that the Church always celebrates. The day on which a saint was born into the life of earth is relatively unimportant. Why celebrate the start of a life of trial and experiment?

The day that is important is the day on which he died, the blessed day on which he entered into the life that really matters, the life of endless joy and complete fulfilment.

Many religious communities have kept that spirit of Joy in face of death. In many a monastery and religious house special wine was served on the day when a religious was buried. Lift your glasses and be glad, brother monks. Toast the new saint that has entered into heaven. Down your wine to honour the glorious happiness that is his.

JUST BEGINNING

Death the end? Death is just the beginning, the beginning of that Supernatural life that Christ won for us by His death; the beginning of happiness that neither enemy nor the passing of time can take from us; the welding of the human being and God; our entrance into our heritage, in virtue of which we rightly possess a mansion set aside for us in the blessed city by God; the opening of our hearts to love such as poets faintly envisage and lovers vainly surmise; the releasing of our minds from doubts and mistiness and the agonizing struggle to gain some slight glimmers of truth; the rushing forward to dip endlessly into the inexhaustible fountain of the truth and reality that are God Himself; the clasping of hands in the companionship that is the Church Triumphant; the meeting with God’s angels and saints, who are to be our happy companions in eternity.

And there on the streets of heaven comes the reunion with those who preceded us in the journey with the messenger death. We know them. We love them. They have never been really lost to us. They have waited for our coming. And now they clasp us to their hearts.

And we in turn shall wait to welcome those who will come after our arrival. They are ours in a love and friendship and companionship that are safe from fickleness or weariness or boredom or misunderstanding or separation.

RELEASE

Death simply releases the soul to the real life of the soul, the life for which man was created, the life for which life on earth is but the preliminary trial and experiment. We lose the shadows of earth to find the substantial reality in God’s presence. We close our eyes on the foggy twilight that is our earthly existence to open them upon the full glory of light and warmth that shines from the sun of justice.

Of course for most of us there may be the purifying interval of purgatory. But compared with eternity, purgatory is just a flickering flame against the wall. For the reality that all eternity will not change is the life that opens with the opening of heaven.

BACK TO EGYPT AND CHILE

Now let’s go back to Pharaoh’s soldiers and the victims of the Chilean earthquake. God flung those men and women to their death. That is one way of putting it. Another and more accurate way of expressing it is to say, “God called them home. God chose that particular day their birthday.” Or as the Roman martyrology repeats in happy monotony, “This day they entered into life.”

All men must die. But God did not originally intend death to be our common fate. If our first parents had not defied Him and rebelled, He would have transferred them straight into His presence without the humiliation of death. But since they flung away the immortality of the body, death has been the fate of all mankind. Death is now God’s means of bringing His sons and daughters into His presence.

So if among the armies of Pharaoh there were soldiers who had according to their lights served their conscience and done good, these soldiers were borne by that wave that swept down from the walls of the Red Sea into God’s happy presence. Their death was not terrible. It was their entrance into life.

HAPPY DEATH

Among those thousands of Chileans-most of them were good Catholics-many, we may be sure, had recently returned from Mass and Communion. Death summoned them swiftly and peremptorily. They probably knew one moment of blinding fear. For a second they heard the roar of the earthquake and knew the paralyzing terror that comes when the very earth under one’s feet grows as unsteady as the sea. That was all. In a second it was over. The period of trial living was at an end. Death had taken them home to their Father.

The little child dies. Perhaps we may rightly wonder- whether, had he lived, the child might have been another Francis Xavier or Vincent de Paul or Little Flower. Yet in our honesty we must confess that very few children actually reach such levels. For most, life is pretty prosaic; for many, it is a fierce and disillusioning struggle.

Why then should we be other than happy that the little one has in his baptismal innocence gone home to his Father? If there be any feeling besides joy in our hearts, it is a twinge of envy that we ourselves were not swiftly carried to God before we tasted the bitterness of sin and knew the ugly embrace of evil.

SAD FOR THE LIVING

Perfectly willingly do I admit that for, those who remain behind the death of a loved one may mean loneliness. We cannot without pangs be separated for even a few weeks from those we deeply love. A train journey sometimes means tears of parting. So it would be inhuman if we did not feel lonely and sad when we are parted from those whom we love, particularly when we realize that this is a separation that will last for the remainder of our mortal life.

The death of those who “die in the Lord” should not make the living sad. But even with the certainty we have of their happiness and the reluctance we would feel to call them back-should that be within our power-and our conviction that they are well out of the welter and bickering of this present existence, parting is sad, and we return to houses and days empty and lonely because of their departure.

All this is simply natural. Death finds us glad for the happiness of those who have passed through death to life. Death leaves us lonely for the dear physical presence that has gone.

WHEN DEATH 1S TERRIBLE

Only three things make death terrible for the person who dies. One is a lack of faith. The second is a tense, greedy clinging to earth and the people and things of earth. The last is mortal sin on the soul of the dying.

A lack of faith makes death a terrible thing. To face the end with the feeling that it is really the end; to look back on the inadequate, incomplete life that is running to its close and to know bitterly how little it has satisfied the exhaustless yearnings of our thirst for knowledge, our longing for love; to face our pitiful accomplishments and to realize that we have done nothing and now can do nothing; to feel our hands slipping from the hands of those to whom we cling and to know that when our hands fall away in death never again will we know the touch of friendship or the union of love-that makes death terrible.

And that is the reason why the poor pagan finds death so horrible and cries out against it in wild protest.

TOO CLOSE TO EARTH

If a man or a woman is madly in love with the earth and its furniture, death may be terrible. Dying misers in melodramas and short stories -always scream as they are torn from their barren gold. The ruler of some commercial empire bribes doctors to wrench out of his exhausted body a few more years of power. The man who lives for passion clings to his body, the instrument of that passion, and howls like a dog when he knows his body can no longer give him the only kind of satisfaction he has cared to find. Even the wise old Diogenes felt sorry for men like that and tossed away his drinking gourd to drink henceforth from cupped hands. He did not want death to tear savagely from his vacuum grip a lot of trifles that he could not take with him into the next world.

DEATH AND THE SINNER

And sin? Yes; to the sinner death must necessarily be terrible. It is terrible to know that just beyond the gate of death is the king one has betrayed, the Father whose love one has flung back with a blow of rejection. It is terrifying to enter eternity with hands stained with murder, a body soiled with lust, a mind clogged with impure pictures, a heart already yielded up to the devil.

I cannot pretend that for people like that death will ever be anything other than terrible. But that is not God’s fault. God gave them this life to use splendidly. They took it from His hands and used it for treason and cruelty, for the betrayal of their brothers and sisters, for crimes that reeked of filthiness and sins that ground tears and blood from fellow men. No guilty man has ever wanted to walk into the presence of his judge. No traitor has found happiness in the prospect of facing the commander whose armies he betrayed.

PAGAN HORROR

Paganism has done and always will do all in its power to make death terrible. It strips faith and hope from men’s shivering souls, until they feel the blasts from the tomb in chill horror. It bids them cling to earth-since there is nothing more; it bids them bury their faces in roses, their hands in gold, their hearts in heaped-up rubbish. It makes easy the sin and applauds the sinner. Yes; paganism makes death terrible. Once more however may I protest that we who have none of paganism’s reasons for fearing death are singularly stupid if we copy its shudders and imitate its gasps of revulsion?

DEATH TO THE ONLOOKER

I can remember very well the ghastly experience of seeing my grandmother die. She had been ill but not, everyone thought, dangerously so. A youngster in my very early teens, I was standing in the doorway of her bedroom, talking with her. Suddenly she twisted in sharp agony. A blood clot, we later learned, had struck her brain. I stood transfixed with horror as she writhed in the bed, her face growing black, her groans strangling far back in her throat. I found myself unable to move, until my mother rushed in and pushed me aside, and I flung myself down on a couch, burying my face in the futile hope of erasing from my memory that gruesome picture of death at work.

Later as she lay in her coffin, I marvelled at the sweet calm that was her face. It seemed incredible that the grotesque face I had seen gasping in the agony of dissolution was that of a sweet old waxen saint and that the hands I had watched writhe and twist upon the coverlet like small tortured snakes now gently and peacefully clasped the wellworn rosary.

At that time I decided that while death clearly is followed by beautiful peace and the calm acceptance of life eternal the blows of death must be excruciating torture.

STRANGELY MERCIFUL

During the years since that time I have watched death and thought about it, always with a growing conviction that even the blows of death are tempered and softened by a merciful God. Most deaths by catastrophe are remarkably swift. Usually the illness by which a person dies is short indeed compared with the entire length of his life. The actual struggle with death is often a matter of minutes.

The lightning strikes, and the victim is knocked unconscious and in unconsciousness dies. The blows of an earthquake seldom last for more than thirty or forty seconds; death has come and gone within so short a space of time. Death by drowning is a matter of a few brief minutes. Death by freezing, if tradition and the story of the little match girl are correct, is almost pleasant.

But twice I had the opportunity to measure the strength and fierceness of death’s actual blows, and each time I came away feeling that God’s hand made wonderfully gentle the stroke of death.

PERSONAL EXPERIENCE

The first experience was my own, and though I hesitate to use myself for example, still one’s own experiences are certainly the experiences one knows best.

I was thirteen years old, and the doctors who stood over my bed had little hope to offer to my mother. Outside, the ambulance was waiting while the doctors held their last consultation. I was not even mildly interested. Their voices floated to me as if from a great distance. I was not concerned enough to try to make out their words.

What they had decided was simply this: If they tried to move me from my bed to the ambulance, I would undoubtedly die in transit. So it was better to allow me to die in peace. The last sacraments had already been given. Between me and death there stood only the prayers and the nursing of my mother.

Now the only point I mean to make with this personal incident is this: I was so close to death that I should have been able to see death’s lifted arm and catch the preliminary, testing swish of his scythe. As a matter of fact no slightest thought of death entered my young mind. My mind was pleasantly busy with a variety of things. It was wondering how soon I could coax them to let me have the funny papers. I was annoyed because the morning was wearing on and I had had no breakfast. I was a little pleased at being the centre of such highly professional and concentrated concern. Death? That was a million miles from my thoughts and expectations. The doctors saw it in the room. I felt not the slightest interest, concern, or discomfort about it.

From that moment death has always seemed to me a very gentle friend.

WE WATCH DEATH AGONY

The other experience was one entirely outside myself.

On and off for a matter of almost a month I attended the deathbed of a dear old lady of whom I was sincerely fond. She would be conscious for a few days and then would lapse into a sort of coma. During the periods of coma we who stood around her bed watched her struggling with death. It was a horrible thing to see. Her gasps were torturing. Her body seemed torn, with physical pain. She swung her head back and forth on the pillow in a rhythm of agony. Day and night she seemed to us to be locked in a physical struggle with an unseen adversary, and we all suffered in her apparent suffering.

Out of her penultimate struggle she emerged into full consciousness. We gathered round her bed, and in a blend of curiosity and sympathy I asked her, “How could you bear your suffering? We could hardly stand it ourselves.

She was completely at sea.

“What suffering?” she asked. “I haven’t been suffering, have I? If I suffered, I surely wasn’t conscious of the fact.”

We had watched death struggling with its victim: We had seen and listened to the agony of her resistance. And all the while that we at her bedside had suffered, the victim had been suffering not at all.

SWIFT AND EASY

Now I am certainly not such, a fool as to maintain in absurd fashion that death cannot be frightfully painful. Cancer is bad. Rheumatism is an internal rack.

And man-made death has a way of being especially painful. The deaths of soldiers in hospitals, deaths brought about by war, are pretty horrible things. Man has made death far more torturing than God ever meant it to be. The awful burns inflicted by modern industry are preludes to lingering deaths.

Yet even in it’s coming, death is usually swift and easy. Most people pass into death through the merciful anaesthetic coma. Nature’s upheavals strike swiftly with death following immediately.

We who watch at the deathbed may actually suffer more than does the dying. The newspaper accounts of people trapped in a fire and children killed in an exploding school may harrow our nerves and torture our imaginations; the accidents themselves were probably matters of seconds. When the Iroquois Theatre fire in Chicago was over, scores of the dead were found sitting peacefully in their places. They had died of the fumes before they had been jolted into the realization of their peril.

TWO VIEWPOINTS

So it is possible to look on death in two ways: as the pagan does; as the Christian should. To the pagan death always has and always will be terrible. The candle is snuffed. The strong column is struck by lightning and split from capital to base. The flame of genius has ceased to burn. Some ugly disease has destroyed a flower-like beauty. A flood or a mountain slide has buried hopeful lives in the blackness of oblivion.

If this pagan viewpoint were the, complete story, death would surely be terrible. But I marvel that people choose to believe that this is the entire story. God, Our Father, cries out that it is not the whole story. -Christ died to prove that any such ideas are ridiculous, cruel, without meaning or value. Our inner common sense clamours in protest against such purposeless waste of human lives and powers. We know that death is not the end but the beginning. We know that through death we hurry into the loving arms of our waiting Father as truly as did the prodigal son when he ran up the slope of the last hill. We have seen Christ conquer death on Calvary. We have watched Him renew life eternally in the rising sun of Easter.

For us death is not horrible. It is one of the beautiful things that God has carefully prepared for His children. It is not really death at all; it is the shadowy prelude to life. It is not senseless agony and suffering; it is our share in the Passion, which guarantees the resurrection.

Let pagans, if they will, see death as a bleached skeleton riding his white horse across the bodies of his victims.

We see death as an angel of light, an angel that takes us gently by the hand and leads us happily home.

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Devotion To The Holy Face of Our Lord Jesus Christ

COMPILED BY

A MEMBER OF THE URSULINE COMMUNITY

BLACKROCK, CORK

INDEX

INTRODUCTION

WE KNOW from the writings of the saints that all through the centuries devotion to the Holy Face of Our Lord was practised in the Church. But it was in the middle of the last century that a fresh impetus was given to it.

A simple Breton girl, a seamstress in Rennes, where her father was a locksmith, entered the Carmelite convent in Tours, taking the name of Sister St. Pierre, and, though the years of her religious life were few, she died in the odour of sanctity. Her writings, subjected to severe tests, scrutinised by theologians in commission, were found to be altogether free from error and to contain revelations and practical teaching that constitute a treasury of devotional literature. Her mystical experiences belong to the most elevated order of such heavenly communications, and her doctrine reaches sublime heights, only to be paralleled by the writings of the great Fathers of the Church, in which similar mysteries are dwelt upon in a similar manner-writings, it should be observed, with which our Carmelite was utterly unacquainted.

It was during the years 1845–46, shortly before her death, that Our Lord revealed His promises to her with regard to those who would honour His Holy Face. At that time blasphemy, especially in speech, was rife in France, and, here it may be added, that the revelation of the “Golden Arrow” (see last page) was, so to speak, the official beginning of her mission proper. The object of that mission was to procure the establishment of the Archconfraternity of the Holy Face, an association of reparation for blasphemy and of adoration of the Face of God made Man.

Thus we find devotion to the Holy Face revealed quite suddenly to this humble lay sister at the close of her life.

Our Lord speaks to her of His Holy Face “as a celestial coin” entrusted to our spending. We are poor, and every day we plunge deeper into debt to God. We are weak, and cannot ,avail ourselves of mortification and much prayer; we have not a great deal to give in alms, that mighty source of blessings, and we need the lamp of Faith in the spiritual darkness of our modern world. Today no one will deny that dangers are more numerous than they were even thirty years ago. Our young people have harder things to face and more of them than their grandparents. Yet there is always the star of hope-none other than the kind, pitying Face of “the bright Morning Star” Himself. Is it not a sign of the times, a modern grace from the great Heart of Christ, that ours should be the days of frequent Communion? We need Him so much nowadays that He calls us to His Altar every morning of our lives. There is also devotion to the Sacred Heart, the glory and fire of our age. The Sacred Heart was the object of Sister St. Peter’s special love, and to it she owed the graces of the reparatory devotion to the Sacred Face of Christ.

The Holy Face defiled in the Passion is, as if it were, a personal bid made by Our Lord for our love. As St. John of the Cross says: “The smallest act of pure love has a greater value in God’s eyes than all good works put together. The slightest spark of that love is of the highest importance to the Church.” Our Lord ardently longs to see us practise this love in our daily lives of work and worry. He wishes us to keep the memory of His tender, sympathetic Face ever looking with love on us, that Face once bruised and mocked for us. He promises His everlasting companionship and his ravishing smile in Heaven, in return for our loving attention to that suffering Face during the days of our earthly pilgrimage. Is it to be wondered at that He could promise the vision of His Face in Heaven to His devout lovers, seeing that He could promise a reward for even a cup of cold water given in His Name?

Every act of perfect love, like every supernatural act, entitles us in this life to an increase of sanctifying grace, and in Heaven to a ray of eternal glory. By multiplying our acts of love, we, at the same time, multiply our measure of light and happiness in Heaven. Did He not say to the adorers of His Face : “May the light of My Countenance be your everlasting gladness”? Even in this life, by our acts of love, we may become more and more the millionaires of Heaven. (Father Faber).

Every good act in our life, every look of love we give to the Face of our Unfailing Friend will deepen that sweet smile of welcome which we hope to see on the Holy Face of Jesus at the hour of our death.

During the lifetime of Sister St. Peter, there was also living in Tours another soul destined by Our Lord to be very closely connected with devotion to His Holy Face, and that was Monsieur Dupont, commonly known as “the holy Man of Tours.” Mr. Healy Thompson has translated the life of Monsieur Dupont. and it is a singularly interesting book, well worth reading. but only the merest outline of it can be given here.

Born in the West Indies in the beginning of the last century, he came to Paris to study. In his early manhood he was remarkable as a dandy, outdoing all his friends in the elegance of his dress. He was the first to drive a Tilbury in Paris: and. to complete the picture, he had a small boy with arms crossed sitting in the back seat. This little boy was to be the indirect means of Monsieur Dupont’s conversion, not from a life of sinful dissipation, but from a life of frivolity.

One day he was to attend a fashionable wedding, but he waited in vain for his “tiger” to appear, while he impatiently drove his Tilbury up and down. Long after the time for the wedding, the boy turned up, excusing the delay by saying he had to attend a catechism class for first Communicants. Just to see if the excuse were valid, Monsieur Dupont drove at once to the church, and there, sure enough, he found the class going on. He listened for a while, and was so much struck by the contrast of his own life and that of the young priest, who seemed to be about the same age, and yet was giving his best days to teaching the waifs and strays of Paris, that at once he set about changing his way of living. His first act was to sell his Tilbury, giving .the sum it realised to a poor family in distress. After some time, he thought of becoming a priest, but on consulting his confessor, he was advised to marry, which he did. His wife died after a few years, leaving him a baby girl. He sent this child, when old enough, to be educated by the Ursulines in Tours, where his mother had been at school. But Henriette had never been strong, and, when about eighteen years old, she developed chest trouble, of which she died.

Monsieur Dupont was now free to devote his life to good works. Living in Tours, he got to know the Carmelites, of whom he became a devoted friend. He made the acquaintance of Sister St. Peter, and both these holy souls had but one ambition-to spread the love of Our Lord broadcast and to repair all the sins committed against His Holy Name. The little Carmelite told him of Our Lord’s revelations about His Holy Face, and Mons. Dupont put up a picture of it in his drawing-room, and lit a lamp before it. One day a friend of his came to see him. She was suffering from a very painful disease, and, on leaving, she asked if she might take a little of the oil that was burning before the Holy Face. He gave his consent at once, and, when the lady used it, she was cured on the spot. This was the beginning of hundreds of cures of every kind, so that Mons. Dupont’s drawing-room became a place of public pilgrimage, and there, to this day, the Holy Face of our Divine Lord is very specially honoured. The foregoing facts bring devotion to the Holy Face down to our own time, and, wherever this practice is established, a greater personal love for Jesus Christ grows up in the heart and a strong desire to make Him reparation for one’s own sins and those of the world. May Jesus Himself deign to bless these pages and to produce such wonderful results in the hearts of all those who read them!

OUR LORD MAKES A BID FOR OUR PERSONAL LOVE

SINGULAR among the great devotions in the Catholic Church, is that great devotion towards the Holy Face of our Divine Lord. It is most ancient, because it is contemporary with Our Lord Himself. It has flourished throughout the ages, under the care and zeal of the Supreme Pontiffs, and in our own times has seen a great development and a new outburst of fervour among the faithful, which have been witnessed to by many extraordinary miracles.

The devotion to the Holy Face is naturally linked with that of the Sacred Heart. The first worshipper of the Holy Face was our Blessed Lady at Bethlehem. She was also the first adorer of the Sacred Heart, and the one who, more than any other creature, has been able to gauge the immensity of its abyss of love. The first apostle of the Sacred Heart was St. John the Evangelist, the apostle of love, who leaned his head upon the breast of Jesus at the Last Supper, and who in his Gospel has recorded for us the fact that when the Heart of Our Lord was pierced by the lance, there came forth blood and water : a prodigy so great that it can be only explained by the fact that Our Lord died, not of His torments, not of loss of blood, but of a broken heart. “He that saw hath given testimony, and his testimony is true.” The first apostle of the devotion to the Holy Face was St. Veronica, the fearless woman who, out of boundless love for our Divine Lord-a love that feared no injury, that braved all-insult and ridicule-met Our Lord on the Way of the Cross, and in the presence of the vast multitude of His enemies handed to Him the veil with which He wiped His adorable Face. That veil, wonderfully bearing the imprint of His features, and treasured by St. Veronica during her life, bequeathed by her as a priceless legacy to the Bishops of Rome, and there treasured and venerated for centuries as one of the principal relics of Holy Church, is the centre of the great devotion of the Holy Face.

The human face reveals to us the soul and the personality of the individual. We speak of a man as having a degraded face, or a low and sinister expression, because habits of sin and cancerous vice have eaten away and corrupted that innocence and frankness which belonged to him in childhood and youth. In the same way, habits of virtue and holiness of life find expression in the faces of those who have really endeavoured to practise Christian perfection. While therefore the soul gives life to the body, as a whole, it is the face which expresses in a wonderful and peculiar way the dignity to which that soul has been raised by the grace of God, or the degradation to which it has descended.

The Incarnation is the concrete expression of the infinite love of God for us. By it the Son of God, dwelling eternally in the Bosom of the Father, took to Himself a human nature, and became a man among men, that we might understand more fully the immensity of the love that created us, and the love that was to redeem us. As St. John, the apostle of Divine Love, tells us: “That which was from the beginning, we have heard, we have seen with our eyes, and our hands have handled of the Word of Life.” As the Sacred Humanity of Our Lord is the visible expression of His almighty, redeeming Love, so the Sacred Heart is at once the symbol and the treasure-house of that infinite Love, and His most Holy Face the expression to us of His infinite charity, His unfathomable pity, His inexhaustible tenderness, and His unfailing sympathy in all our hopes, our needs, and our manifold weaknesses.

In the Old Testament men beheld the majesty of Creation, the vastness of the heavens, peopled with innumerable stars, the grandeur of the sun and moon, the beauty of earth and sea, the unbroken silence of great mountains, the power of tempests; they knew all this to be but the fringe of the splendours of God’s eternal majesty. They adored God in fear, on account of the sublime isolation of the Godhead, and were awed by the unbridgeable distance that separated the Creator from the things that He had made.

But the Incarnation revealed new and amazing aspects of God’s love for men. The Babe of Bethlehem makes God easy to be loved, and all things easy to understand. The whole earth sings a new canticle: “Come, let us adore the Lord, because He is little and exceedingly to be loved.” He is a little Babe, so helpless. so simple, so humble; one of the frail things of creation; and yet His Mother’s knee is the throne from which He is ruling the vast universe that He has made, and it is His tiny hands that support the heavens.

The Incarnation makes the Love of God for each one of us easy to understand. It is the appeal of Our Lord to each of us for a real and personal love. We do not love all men alike. For some we have a special love, which is based on our knowledge and experience of their character, and of their goodness to us. We cannot help ourselves. Such is our nature, that it compels us to make friends, to love them, and to express our love for them in our actions. We rejoice to see the faces of our friends, and are comforted by their presence and take delight in their company.

The whole life of Our Lord on earth, and His bitter Passion and Death, His glorious Resurrection and triumphant Ascension are all an infinite appeal for a return of personal love. It was all the result of an infinite Love directed to each one of us. It was an expression of Divine Love translated into human words and actions. It was an attempt by Our Lord to win our individual and personal love on the same terms, and in the same way in which our friends win our love for themselves.

Our Lord displays to us, in an infinite degree, all those things which are the foundations of human love. His Sacred Heart presents itself to us as the unceasing fountain of all that we can have or hope for, and as a vast abyss of tenderness and pity for us in all our difficulties and trials. And since so mighty a love must call forth a response from us, the Sacred Heart is the object of our personal love, and His most Holy Face, the face of our Friend of Friends, the object of our constant veneration and reparation.

THE HOLY FACE OF OUR LORD THE CENTRE OF ATTACK IN HIS PASSION

From the account given us by the sacred writers, it is clear that, while the whole Body of Our Lord was insulted in every way that could be devised, His beautiful Face was singled out in a special manner for insults, humiliations and injuries. The Passion itself almost opens with the treacherous kiss of Judas, the sign of his betrayal. The memory of this awful kiss brooded darkly over the Soul of Jesus during His Passion, and down through all the centuries, it has since filled the heart of the Church with horror and detestation. It has been our Lady’s wonderful privilege to imprint maternal kisses upon the Holy Face. For three and thirty years, from the first time she beheld it, as the Face of her own little babe, it had been the object of her adoring love; she, beyond all others, understood that Face was the centre of the worship of the heavenly hosts. She knew the sanctity that surrounded its awful majesty. It was the Face of God. How heaven must have shuddered at the kiss of Judas!

The same horror begins to steal over our own hearts, so often hardened in sin, when we consider how extraordinary was the love of Our Lord for Judas. He had been one of the chosen twelve, predestined from all ages to be the intimate companion of Jesus in His public life: upon him the graces of the apostleship had been heaped. Day after day, for three long years, he had listened to the words of Eternal Wisdom; he had lived and eaten and walked with Him who was the most lovable of men: time after time, he had been admonished with infinite tenderness for his growing vice of avarice: and, even when at last, he had determined to sell his Master and struck his bargain with the priests, who were thirsting for the blood of our Saviour, the love of the Sacred Heart for him did not falter. At the Last Supper the final warning was given probably in the midst of the very institution of the Sacrament of Love. The washing of his feet by his divine Victim, the prophecies of the approaching betrayal, and lastly the morsel of bread dipped in the dish and given as a sign to him were the supreme and final efforts of Jesus to turn Judas from his unspeakable crime.

“And Judas went out into the night and it was dark.” It was dark in the traitor’s heart. from which the last glimmer of divine grace had faded away; and it was cold, for the last spark of love had died out. He would betray his Master and friend by no ordinary sign: he would not point with his finger to single Him out, or touch Him on the arm. No, he was one of the first to think of so vile a sign, and we know that ever since, the kiss of treachery is always spoken as the “kiss of Judas.” Judas consummated and masked his baseness in the moment of supreme injury, by the supreme sign of friendship. “And he that betrayed Him had given them a sign, saving: ‘Whomsoever I shall kiss, that is He: lay hold on Him and lead Him away carefully.’ And when he was come, immediately going up to Him, he said : ‘Hail, Rabbi,’ and he kissed Him.”

It was a refinement of torture for the Sacred Heart, which had poured out all its treasures upon Judas to win his love. But even his diabolical malice could not prevent a last attempt of the Sacred Heart to avert the dreadful doom of this unhappy man. From the lips of Jesus came the gentle rebuke, so full of tenderness: “Friend, wherefore art thou come? Judas, dost thou betray the Son of Man with a kiss?”‘ But love could no longer soften the heart of Judas. For the last time, he had been called “Friend”; never again will he hear his name spoken in accents of love; never again will he have a friend in the whole world, and, in a few hours, he will stand before his God to be judged. :’’The Son of Man indeed goeth, as it is written: but woe to him by whom the Son of Man shall he betrayed!”

It is not enough for us to detest the crime of Judas; we have to bring home to ourselves that it is but a type of the many crimes that we ourselves do and can commit. The endless mercies of the Sacred Heart in our regard place Our Lord at the mercy of the same base ingratitude.

That contemptuous casting away of the friendship of Jesus, in order to obtain some fleeting pleasure, which, like thirty pieces of silver is but a misery in disguise, is a repetition by us of the betrayal. Remembering, therefore, how afflicted the Sacred Heart was by the sin of Judas and remembering also the countless number of mortal sins throughout the world, in particular our own personal sins, we begin dimly to realise the need of making reparation for the innumerable acts of treachery, man’s return for His boundless love, and this we can very fittingly do by devotion to His holy Face.

As the dread drama of the Passion unfolds itself, the insults to our Blessed Saviour multiply beyond number. In the night of Maundy Thursday, when our Blessed Lord stood arraigned before the court of the High Priest, St. John tells us that because of one of His answers. Jesus was struck, receiving so terrible a blow that it deserved special mention among the many insults of the Passion. ‘And when He had said these things, one of the servants standing by gave Jesus a blow, saying: “Answerest thou the High Priest so”? (John xviii, 22). St. John Chrysostom and other early Fathers identify this assailant of the Saviour with Malchus, whose ear Our Lord had miraculously healed but a few hours earlier. All through the rest of the night, “then they did spit in His Face” (Matt. xxxi, 69). “And the men that held Him mocked Him and struck Him. And they blindfolded Him and struck Him with the palms of their hands” (Mark xiv, 65). “And they blindfolded Him and struck His Face. And they asked Him, saying: ‘Prophesy who it is that struck Thee?’ And blaspheming, many other things they said against Him.” (Luke xxii 65).

Let us contemplate the ignominies to which the Holy Face of Our Lord was subjected during the rest of that night. He was imprisoned in a dungeon, surrounded not only by his guards, but also by the rabble of soldiers and servants that had come together to wreak their brutality on Him. Like their masters, they vie with one another in cruelty. Our Lord is seated on some convenient stone, and blows are rained on His Face from all sides: some blows being given by the open hand, others by hands encased in iron gauntlets. The air resounds with ribald songs and coarse jests. “They that drank wine made me their song.” The Sacred Face is bruised, battered and streaming with spittle, and, in the midst of all these horrors, Our Lord sits patient and uncomplaining. The love of the Sacred Heart for each of us is so great that He willingly bears all these insults for us. From time to time, one of the priests comes down to see how matters are faring and to gloat over Our Lord’s misery, and, at each visit, the horrible orgy gains in intensity.

At length. they devise a new kind of game. Is He not the great Prophet, so He can prophesy for them, and at once a filthy rag is found, and with it they veil the majesty of the Holy Face. Then, one by one, they come before Him, and bending the knee in mockery, they strike Him with many blows. “Prophesy who it is that struck Thee?” As these men stood before the veiled Face of Jesus, He saw each of them distinctly, and also every human being, who, in the ages yet to come, would ever join in mockery of Him. Perhaps His all-pure eyes recognised you and me in that crowd of daring sinners! If so, here we have sufficient reason for reparation to His Holy Face. For our consolation, in after years, He was to reveal to a holy soul that He would accept every act of reparation offered to His Holy Face, and that He would delight to restore to our souls the beauty they had on leaving the baptismal font.

In this meditation we cannot follow the Passion step by step. There was never a moment during it that Our Lord’s Face was not the special object of degradation. His captivity in the hands of the brutal soldiers was a perpetual outrage. His examinations before Pilate, the humiliations which He endured at the hands of the shrieking mob that hooted after Him, crying out for His blood in the streets of Jerusalem, His mockery before Herod, all of these were affronts from which His Sacred Heart shrank with the keenest sensitiveness, but all of which He bore for us with the tenderest patience. But let us dwell for a moment on the dreadful scene after the scourging, when the horrors of the preceding night are again repeated by the soldiery of Pilate. During the night-watches He has been treated with derision as the great Prophet and Physician of souls. It is His Holy Head which is now to be the target of their mockery. “And, stripping Him, they put a scarlet cloak about Him, and, plaiting a crown of thorns, they put it upon His Head, and a reed in His right hand, and, bowing their knees, they adored Him, saying: “Hail, King of the Jews!” and they gave Him blows. They struck His Head with the reed and they did spit upon Him.”

The scarlet cloak of mock royalty is about Him, the diadem of cruel thorns is on His Head, decorated with the rubies of His Precious Blood, and the frail reed in His hand, the sceptre of His kingly power. Remembering how very sensitive we are to the least insult to our pride, which is based on our nothingness and sins, let us contemplate with fear and trembling the sight of the outraged majesty of our God, and let us adore the Holy Face, which willingly suffered such great things for our love.

The sentence has been pronounced and the whole city is in a tumult. Surrounded by an infuriated mob, torn and exhausted, really “a worm and no man,” dragged by soldiers, Our Lord proceeds slowly through the streets crowded with sightseers, for, at the time of the Pasch, Jerusalem was filled with Jews from all parts of the known world. The awful procession now draws near to a certain house, in which one of those faithful women dwells, who used to minister to Jesus, and whose heart is still full of love for Him. A momentary halt is made outside her house. She sees the Face of her divine Master streaming with blood and the sweat of agony, disfigured by filth and spittle. In a moment, braving all the insults and anger of the mob, she is by His side, she hands Him her folded veil, and with it Our Lord wipes His adorable Face and Eyes that are streaming with tears and blood. She is quickly hustled away and forced to take shelter in her house. The tragic procession moves on, and Veronica, through her tears, gazes on the veil. Swift as was Our Lord’s forgiveness for the repentant Peter, swift as will be His answer to pardon the dying thief on his cross, so also just as swift has been the reward for Veronica’s pity. She kneels in reverence before the Veil, now become her dearest treasure, for on it, miraculously imprinted, are the features of her divine Master. He has given her a lasting pledge of His undying gratitude, a pledge, too, of the wonders of grace that He will work in souls who seek to make reparation to the Sacred Heart for the insults and outrages upon His Holy Face.

ST. VERONICA AND THE AUTHENTIC PICTURE OF THE HOLY FACE

In some popular manuals of devotion we read that Veronica was the name of the image of the Holy Face imprinted on the veil, and that no such saint as she ever existed at the time of the Passion. This is a mistake. The best authorities prove beyond doubt that Veronica was the name of the woman who, through pity, gave Him the veil to wipe His Face. Many learned authors think that she was also the woman cured by Jesus, by touching the “hem of His garment.” Full of gratitude for this miracle, she followed His footsteps with Our Lady, Magdalen and the other holy women, and watched every stage of the Passion.

Father Ventura writes : “It is probable that she who received the distinguished favour from Our Lord of wiping with her own hands the sweat and blood from His Face, is the same who touched His garment with heroic faith, and, in doing so, rendered a most beautiful testimony to His Divinity.”

Piazza, a learned writer, describes it thus: “After Jesus had left the Praetorium, laden with His cross and covered with blood, which issued from the wounds received during the Scourging and Crowning with thorns, and gone four hundred and fifty steps on the road to Calvary, He approached a house that stood at the corner of the street. Veronica, then seeing Him from afar, came full of pity to meet Him, and, having removed the veil she wore on her head, she gave it to Him that He might use it to wipe His Holy Face, all bathed as it was with blood and sweat. Christ, having benignantly received it, gave it back to her, when He had used it, leaving upon it, as a gracious recompense, the impress of His Holy Face. The resemblance is so complete that it is even possible to perceive the mark made by the hand that dealt Him the sacrilegious blow. Rejoicing over so precious a treasure, the illustrious lady preserved it in her house with jealous care.”

Veronica is said to have given the precious relic to Pope Clement, the third successor to St. Peter. Like all the other sacred relics, the Veil was preserved for centuries with the greatest care and reverence, as well as the greatest secrecy. That Veronica herself conveyed the relic to Rome is the unanimous opinion of all holy writers on the subject. The learned Pope Benedict XIV writes: “In the Basilica of the Vatican, in addition to the Spear and Lance, is also preserved and greatly venerated the Sudarium, which has perfectly kept, and still keeps, the impression of the Holy Face of Our Lord Jesus Christ, bathed in sweat and blood.”

Dante, in his immortal poem, meets Veronica in Paradise, and, seeing the Veil, exclaims with admiration: “Oh! my Lord. Jesus Christ True God, it is thus then that Thy Holy Face has been preserved.”

Piazza, who wrote in 1713, describes the Holy Face thus: “The Head of Christ is everywhere transpierced with thorns. The Forehead is bleeding, the Eyes swollen and bloodshot, the Face pale and livid. Upon the right Cheek the cruel mark of the blow given by Malchus, with his iron gauntlet, sorrowfully attracts attention, the same as the spittle of the Jews and the stains on the left Cheek. The Nose is flattened and bleeding; the Mouth open and filled with blood; the Beard torn in several places, and the Hair is also torn on one side.”

The facsimile of the Holy Face sent from Rome corresponds with the above description.

For a long time it was forbidden, under pain of excommunication, to produce copies of the Holy Face. Since 1848, under the pontificate of Pope Pius IX, authorised copies have been printed on linen, cotton or silk. They are impressed with a seal, which is a guarantee that they are authentic and are true copies of the real Holy Face. They have also touched the Lance and Spear and the Wood of the True Cross. It may be added, the copies marked with the seal have the same privileges as the miraculous Holy Face itself.

We know from the writings of the saints that all through the centuries devotion to the Holy Face of Our Lord was practised in the Church. But it was in the middle of the last century that a fresh impetus was given to it.

Extract from Cardinal Newman’s “Meditations on Christian Doctrine” . . . I see the figure of a man, whether young or old I cannot tell. He may be fifty, or He may be thirty. Sometimes He looks one, sometimes the other. There is something inexpressible about His Face which I cannot solve. Perhaps, as He bears all burdens. He bears that of old age also. But so it is: His Face is at once most venerable and most child-like, most calm, most sweet, most modest, beaming with sanctity and with loving kindness. His eyes rivet me and move my heart: His breath is all-fragrant and transports me out of myself. Oh! I will look upon that Face for ever and will not cease!

And I see suddenly someone come to Him. and raise his hand and sharply strike Him on that heavenly Face. It is a hard hand, the hand of a rude man, and perhaps has iron on it. It could not be so sudden as to take Him by surprise, who knows all things past and future, and He shows no sign of resentment, remaining calm and grave as before; but the expression of His Face is marred : a great weal arises, and in a little while that all-gracious Face is hid from me by the effects of this indignity, as if a cloud came over it.

A hand was lifted against the Face of Christ. Whose hand was that? My conscience tells me: “Thou art the man.” I trust it is not so with me now. But, O my soul, contemplate the awful fact. Fancy Christ before thee, and fancy thyself lifting thy hand, and striking Him! Thou wilt say: “It is impossible: I could not do so!” Yes, thou hast done so. When thou didst sin wilfully. then thou hast done so. He is beyond pain now: still, thou hast struck Him, and, had it been in the days of His flesh, He would have felt the pain. Turn back in memory. and recollect the time, the day, the hour, when, by wilful mortal sin, by scoffing at sacred things, or by profaneness, or by acts of impurity, or by deliberate rejection of God’s voice, or in any other devilish way known to thee, thou hast struck the All-Holy One!

O injured Lord, what can I say? I am very guilty concerning Thee, my Brother: and I shall sink in sullen despair if Thou dost not raise me up. I cannot look upon Thee: I shrink from Thee: I throw my arms around my face: I crouch to the earth. Satan will pull me down, if Thou take not pity. It is terrible to turn to Thee: but, O, turn Thou to me, and so shall I be turned to Thee. It is a purgatory to endure the sight of Thee, the sight of myself-I, most vile-Thou, most holy. Yet, make me look once more on Thee, whom I have so incomprehensibly affronted, for Thy Countenance is my life; my only hope and health lies in looking on Thee, whom I have pierced. So I put myself before Thee: I look on Thee again: I endure the pain in order to the purification.

O my God, how can I look Thee in the Face when I think of my ingratitude, so deeply seated, so habitual, so immovable-or rather so awfully increasing? Thou loadest me day by day with Thy favours, and feedest me with Thyself, as Thou didst Judas, yet. not only do I not profit thereby, but I do not even make any acknowledgment at the time. Lord, how long? When shall I be free from this real, this fatal, captivity? He who made Judas his prey has got hold of me in my old age, and I cannot get loose. It is the same, day after day. When wilt Thou give me a still greater grace than Thou hast given me-the grace to profit by the graces which Thou givest? When wilt Thou give me Thy effectual grace, which alone can give life and vigour to this effete, miserable, dying soul of mine? My God, I know not in what sense I can pain Thee in Thy glorified state; but I know that every fresh sin, every fresh ingratitude I now commit, was among the blows and stripes which once fell on Thee in Thy Passion. O, let me have as little a share in those Thy past sufferings as possible. Day by day goes, and I find I have been more and more, by the new sins of each day, the cause of them. I know that, at best, I have a real share in solido of them all, but still it is shocking to find myself having a greater and greater share. Let others wound Thee, let not me! Let me not have to think that Thou wouldst have had this or that pang of soul the less, except for me. O my God, I am so fast in prison that I cannot get out. O Mary, pray for me.

INVOCATIONS TO THE HOLY FACE IN REPARATION FOR BLASPHEMIES AND FOR THE CONVERSION OF BLASPHEMERS

Lord, have mercy on us.

Christ, have mercy on us,

Christ, hear us.

Christ. graciously hear us.

Holy Mary pray for us.

O adorable Face, which was adored with profound respect by Mary and Joseph, when they saw Thee for the first time, pray for us

O adorable Face, which in the stable of Bethlehem didst ravish with joy the Angels, the Shepherds and the Magi, pray for us

O adorable Face, which in the Temple didst transpierce with a dart of love the saintly old man and the prophetess Anna, etc.

O adorable Face, which was bathed in tears in Thy holy Infancy,

O adorable Face, which, when Thou wert twelve years old, didst appear in the Temple, and fill the doctors of the Law with admiration,

O adorable Face, white with purity and ruddy with charity,

O adorable Face, more beautiful than the sun, lovelier than the moon, more brilliant than the stars,

O adorable Face, fresher than the roses of summer,

O adorable Face, more precious than gold, silver and diamonds,

O adorable Face, whose charms are so ravishing and whose grace is so attractive,

O adorable Face, whose every feature is marked by nobility, contemplated by the angels.

O adorable Face, sweet delectation of the saints.

O adorable Face, Masterpiece of the Holy Ghost, in which the Eternal Father is well pleased.

O adorable Face, delight of Mary and Joseph,

O adorable Face, ineffable mirror of the divine perfections,

O adorable Face, whose beauty is ever ancient and ever new,

O adorable Face, which appeaseth the wrath of God,

O adorable Face, which makest the devils tremble,

O adorable Face, treasure of all grace and blessing,

O adorable Face, exposed in the desert to the inclemency of the weather,

O adorable Face, scorched by the heat of the sun, and bathed in sweat on Thy journeys,

O adorable Face, whose expression is wholly divine, pray for us

O adorable Face, whose modesty and sweetness attracted both just and sinners, etc.

O adorable Face, which blessed and kissed the little children.

O adorable Face, troubled and weeping at the grave of Lazarus,

O adorable Face, brilliant as the sun and radiant with glory on Mount Thabor,

O adorable Face, sad at the sight of Jerusalem and shedding tears over the ungrateful city.

O adorable Face, bowed to the earth in the garden of Olives, and covered with shame at the sight of our sins,

O adorable Face, bathed in a bloody sweat.

O adorable Face, kissed by the traitor Judas,

O adorable Face, whose sanctity and majesty smote the soldiers with fear and cast them to the ground,

O adorable Face, struck by a vile servant, shamefully blind-folded and profaned by the sacrilegious hands of Thy enemies,

O adorable Face, defiled with spittle, and bruised with innumerable buffets and blows.

O adorable Face, whose divine look wounded Peter’s heart with a dart of sorrow and love.

O adorable Face, humbled for us at the tribunals of Jerusalem,

O adorable Face, which didst preserve Thy serenity when Pilate pronounced the fatal sentence.

O adorable Face, covered with sweat and blood, and falling in the mire under the weight of the Cross,

O adorable Face, worthy of our respect, veneration and devotion,

O adorable Face, wiped by a pious woman on the road to Calvary,

O adorable Face, raised up on the Cross.

O adorable Face, whose brow was crowned with thorns,

O adorable Face, whose Eyes were filled with blood,

O adorable Face, into whose Mouth was poured vinegar and gall, pray for us

O adorable Face, whose Hair and Beard were torn out by the executioners, etc.

O adorable Face, which was made to look like the face of a leper.

O adorable Face, whose incomparable beauty was obscured under the dreadful cloud of the sins of the world,

O adorable Face, covered with the shades of death.

O adorable Face, washed and anointed by Mary and the holy women and then wrapped in a shroud, enclosed in the sepulchre.

O adorable Face, all resplendent with glory and beauty on the day of the Resurrection,

O adorable Face, all dazzling with light at the moment of Ascension,

O adorable Face, hidden in the Blessed Sacrament,

O adorable Face, which will appear with great majesty in the clouds of heaven at the end of the world O adorable Face, which will cause sinners to tremble, which will fill the Just with joy for all eternity,

Lamb of God, who takest away the sins of the world, Spare us, O Lord. Lamb of God, who takest away the sins of the world, Graciously hear us, O Lord. Lamb of God, who takest away the sins of the world, Have merry on us. O Lord.

I salute Thee, I adore Thee, and I love Thee, O adorable Face of Jesus, my Beloved, noble seal of the Divinity; with all the powers of my soul, I apply myself to Thee and most humbly pray Thee to imprint the features of Thy Divine likeness on my heart. Amen.

TO THE HOLY FACE

Ah, awful Face of Love, bruised by my hand. Turn to me, pierce me with Thine Eyes of flame, And give me deeper knowledge of my sin: So let me grieve, and when I understand How great my guilt, my ruin and my shame, Open Thy Sacred Heart. and let me in! REV. HUGH R. BENSON.

PRAYER OF POPE PIUS IX

O my Jesus, cast a look of mercy on us: turn Thy Face towards each of us, as Thou didst to Veronica. not that we may see it with our bodily eyes, for this we do not deserve, but turn it towards our hearts, so that remembering Thee, we may ever draw from this fountain of strength the vigour necessary to bear the combats of life. Amen.

AN ACT OF REPARATION FOR ALL THE OUTRAGES JESUS CHRIST

SUFFERED IN HIS HOLY FACE FOR OUR PERSONAL SINS

I adore and praise Thee, O Divine Jesus, Son of the Living God; I desire to make reparation for all the outrages Thou hast endured for me, the most miserable of Thy creatures, in all the members of Thy Blessed Body, and particularly in Thy adorable Face, disfigured by blows and defiled by spittle, and hardly to he recognised through the cruel treatment which Thou didst receive from the impious Jews. I salute Thee, O blessed Eyes, all bathed in tears for my salvation. I salute Thee, O blessed Ears, assailed by insults, blasphemies and cruel mockeries. I salute Thee, O blessed Mouth, filled with graces and tenderness for us sinners, but embittered with vinegar and gall by the monstrous ingratitude of that people, whom Thou didst choose, from among all others. In reparation for all these ignominies I offer Thee all the homage which is given Thee in that holy place, where Thou art pleased to be honoured with a special worship, uniting myself thereto Amen.

(Abridged from the History of the Holy Face of our Saviour preserved in the cathedral at Laon.)

O most Holy Face of God made Man, battered, bruised and defiled for my sins in Thy Passion. O Holy Face, which I myself have injured with more malice, more knowledge, more ingratitude than the soldiery of Pilate. Behold me kneeling before Thee in abject penitence and adoration, and by my veneration of Thy Holy Face and my faithful service, I desire to consecrate myself like Veronica to the work of repairing, as far as is in my power, the injuries beyond number which I and all mankind have inflicted on Thy Holy Face. Amen.

Blessed for ever be the holy Face of Jesus, our consolation on earth and our joy in heaven:

PRAYERS OF MONSIEUR DUPONT, “THE HOLY MAN OF TOURS”

O my Saviour. Jesus, at the sight of Thy most Holy Face disfigured by suffering, at the sight of Thy most Sacred Heart, so full of love, I cry with St. Augustine: “Lord Jesus, imprint on my heart Thy sacred wounds, so that I may read therein sorrow and love; sorrow, to endure every sorrow for Thee; love, to despise every love for Thee.”

“O adorable Face of my Jesus, so mercifully bowed upon the tree of the Cross on the day of Thy Passion, for the salvation of men, now inclined in Thy pity towards us, poor sinners; cast upon us a look of compassion, and receive us to the kiss of peace. Amen”

“O Lord Jesus Christ, in presenting ourselves before Thy adorable Face, to beg of Thee the graces we most need, we beseech Thee, to give us above all things the disposition of never refusing at any time to do what Thou requirest of us by Thy commandments and divine inspirations. Amen.”

“Be merciful to us, O my God, and reject not our prayers when we call on Thy Name in the midst of our afflictions, and seek Thy adorable Face with loving hearts. Amen.”

“O Almighty and Eternal God, look upon the Face of Thy Son, Jesus. We present it to Thee with confidence to implore Thy pardon. The All-Merciful Advocate opens His Mouth to plead our cause: hearken to His voice, behold His tears, O God, and, through His infinite merits, listen to Him when He intercedes for us, poor sinners. Amen.”

“May I die consumed by an ardent thirst to see the adorable Face of Our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ!” (ST. EDMUND).

(Towards the end of his life Monsieur Dupont very often repeated this prayer.)

PRAYER OF THE LITTLE FLOWER TO THE HOLY FACE OF JESUS

“O Jesus, who, in Thy cruel Passion didst become the ‘reproach of men and the Man of Sorrows,’ I worship Thy divine Face. Once it shone with the beauty and sweetness of the Divinity; but now, for my sake, it is become as ‘the face of a leper.’ Yet, in that disfigured Countenance, I recognise Thy infinite love, and I am consumed with the desire of making Thee loved by all mankind. The tears that flowed so abundantly from Thy Eyes are to me as precious pearls that I delight to gather, that with their worth I may ransom the souls of poor sinners.

O Jesus, whose Face is the sole beauty that ravishes my heart, I may not see here below the sweetness of Thy glance, nor feel the ineffable tenderness of Thy kiss, I bow to Thy Will-but I pray Thee to imprint in me Thy divine likeness, and I implore Thee so to inflame me with Thy love, that it may quickly consume me, and that I may soon reach the vision of Thy glorious Face in heaven. Amen.”

HYMN TO THE HOLY FACE O HOLY FACE, IN LIFE SO SWEET AND GRACIOUS

Whom children loved and sinners did not fear;

Look down upon me now in love and mercy.

Speak but one word my guilty soul to cheer.

I dread the thought that I must stand before Thee. To hear my sentence from Thy Lips so sweet: O look upon me now while still there’s mercy. Here as I kneel repentant at Thy Feet.

The Sinful Woman, as she crouched before Thee, Dared not look up until she heard Thee speak: Then fear was gone. and all at once she loved Thee. Won by Thy Voice, so gracious and so meek. At Simon’s banquet, Mary bathed Thy dear Feet.

With tears drawn from her very inmost heart: While cruel men looked on with eyes disdainful. She cared not for Thou didst take her part.

When Peter stood, the night before Thy Passion, A traitor branded-sunk in shame and grief: Thine Eyes met his, and then his whole soul O’erflowed with sorrow, true, as well as deep.

Look on me, Jesus, I again implore Thee, Like Peter, too, a traitor I have been;

Not once, O Lord, but times beyond all counting. Forgive the past, and say: “Be thou made clean!” S.M.B.

PRAYER OF POPE CLEMENT IV

O God, who didst enlighten us with the light of Thy Countenance, and who, to reward the loving kindness of St. Veronica, didst leave us the impression of Thy Holy Face on her veil as a remembrance, grant that, through Thy Cross and Passion, we may one day fearlessly look upon Thy Holy Face, when Thou wilt come to judge the living and the dead.

Almighty and Eternal God, through whose grace the image of the Holy Face of Thy Son doth shine forth radiantly to Thy devout people, grant us, we beseech Thee, the remission of our sins, and direct all the thoughts, words and actions of those who confide in Thy mercy, who livest and reignest with the Father, Son and Holy Ghost, one God, world without end. Amen.

HYMN TO THE HOLY FACE TEARS ON THY HOLY FACE, MY GOD!

Long sorrow told by tears.

A wreath of torture crowns at last

The agony of years.

Thy glory dimmed, Thy beauty fled,

Thy tender, touching grace

Beams on us now no longer here,

O Sacred, Suffering Face!

Grief on Thy Holy Face, my God! The anguish that shall win

Hope for the desolate, with peace, And pardon for the sin.

The sin whose deadly hands have laid So deep, so sad a trace

On Brow, on Lips and weeping Eyes, O Sacred, Suffering Face!

Love on Thy Holy Face, my God! The love that liveth on,

Though light, and loveliness and joy, To sight of earth are gone.

The love that calls us to Thy Feet, And folds in Thy embrace,

The children of Thy tears, my God! O Sacred, Suffering Face!

We pray Thee for Thy straying sheep, We pray Thee for the eyes,

The lips, the hearts, that always bid Thine own hot tear-drops rise,

We pray Thee for this world of Thine, Its wandering, wilful race.

Lead it, kind Shepherd, to Thy shrine, Thy Sacred, Suffering Face!

Unclose Thy weary Eyes, my God! Bow down Thy weary Head.

Over the souls that prostrate lie.

Thy Precious Blood he shed.

O royal flood, O golden flood,

Of faith, of hope and grace,

Bless Thou the hearts and eyes that seek Thy Sacred, Suffering Face!

AFTER HOLY COMMUNION

Adore the Holy Face of Jesus, really present in your heart; contemplate each of His wounded features, and offer the merits of each to the Eternal Father for the conversion of sinners, the salvation of’ the dying, the intentions of the Pope and for your personal needs.

THE GOLDEN ARROW REVEALED BY OUR LORD HIMSELF TO SISTER ST. PIERRE IN REPARATION FOR BLASPHEMY AGAINST HIS HOLY NAME

May the most holy, the most unutterable, the most Sacred Name of God be praised, blessed, adored and glorified and loved in heaven, on earth and under the earth by all creatures and by the Most adorable Heart of Jesus in the Most adorable Sacrament of the Altar!

Our Lord, on revealing this to the nun, told her this prayer gave Him great pleasure.

—

THE MAGNET OF SOUL

O Holy Face, draw us to Thee by Thy sweet grace, That all we think or do or say,

May be for Thee alone today,

And by Thy boundless love and grace, O make us love Thy Holy Face.

Nihil Obstat:Carolus Doyle, S.J. Censor Theol. Deput.

@ Eduardus,

Archiep. Dublinen, Hiberniae Primus. 29 September, 1938

********

Devotion To The Immaculate Heart of Mary

INDEX

THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY MAY BE FITLY DESCRIBED AS THE GOLDEN AGE OF THE DEVOTION TO THE PURE HEART OF MARY. UNTIL THAT TIME IT WAS PRACTISED EXCLUSIVELY BY A FEW CHOSEN SOULS, AND SPREAD ONLY BY DEGREES THROUGHOUT THE CHURCH. ASCETICAL WRITERS AND LEARNED THEOLOGIANS BEGAN TO TREAT MORE FREQUENTLY OF THIS DEVOTION. GREAT MEN, SUCH AS LOUIS DE GRENADA, CARDINAL DE BERULLE, CANISIUS, AND SUAREZ, WORKED WITH ENERGY AND ZEAL TO MAKE THIS DEVOTION BETTER KNOWN.

It was reserved for St. John Eudes to be the apostle and chief organiser of this special devotion to the Immaculate Heart of Mary. We must remark here, however, that in this holy man’s mind, the two Sacred Hearts of Jesus and Mary were ever inseparable. For almost thirty years before the revelations of Saint Margaret Mary took place, St. John had been an apostle of the devotion to the Sacred Heart of Jesus. By word and work, he had laboured to spread that devotion throughout the Church of France. Hence, in the decree of January 6th, 1903, on the heroicityof St. John Eude’s virtues, the Church herself styles him “the author of the liturgical cult of the Holy Hearts of Jesus and Mary.” As, in the divine plan, Mary prepares the way for Jesus, so also in the Church of God, devotion to the Heart of Mary prepared the way for devotion to the Sacred Heart. In St. John’s view, the ultimate object of all devotion and love is the adorable Heart of our Saviour, but, the best means of attaining that object is the Immaculate Heart of His Mother. Wherefore, he first set to work to preach and organise devotion to the Heart of Mary. And of that devotion he is the apostle par excellence, for when he began in 1641 it was scarcely known, but when he died (1680), it existed in a .flourishing condition in most of the dioceses of France. A few words, then, on St. John Eudes and his work.

Born in 1601, at Ri in the Department of Orne (France), John Eudes possessed from his tenderest years a profound love for, and a .filial devotion to, the Immaculate Mother of God. After a brilliant course of studies in the Jesuit College at Caen, he decided to enter the Congregation of the Oratory, founded by Cardinal de Berulle, and did so on March 25th, 1623. Ordained priest in 1625, Father Eudes began his sacerdotal ministry in the town of Caen. From the very beginning of his priestly career he zealously applied himself to the important work of preaching missions, and in this he was very successful.

It was not until 1641, however, that he devoted his attention to the propagation of devotion to the Heart of Mary. In that year he made the acquaintance, of a holy soul, Marie Desvalles, whom he ever afterwards regarded as a saint, favoured with divine communications and extraordinary graces. Probably, this saintly woman made known to Father Eudes the will of God with regard to the part he was to play in spreading devotion to the Pure Heart of Mary. This holy man looked upon his mission as divine, and considered himself an instrument in God’s hands for the formation of a new and distinctive devotion,and from the year 1641 the apostle of Mary’s Immaculate Heart gave himself unreservedly to the furtherance of this great project. Saint John Eudes was a Founder of religious institutes, a zealous and eloquent missionary, and a great spiritual writer. In each of these capacities, he applied all his energy and talents to his great lifework-the establishment among the faithful of France of a special devotion to the Most Pure Heart of Mary.

St. John Eudes was, first of all, a Founder of religious congregations. His first foundation on December 8th, 1641, was that of the Society of Our Lady of Charity-a Society much similar in end and constitutions to the Congregation of the Good Shepherd, of our day. Everything in that Society breathed devotion to the Pure Heart of Mary. Its very existence, in the holy Founder’s view, was due to the virginal Heart of Mary, who loved, with one and the same love , both Mary Magdalen and the Apostle, St. John. From its inception, this institute was dedicated to the chaste Heart of Our Lady. Its Founder always loved to call its members “the daughters of the Heart of Mary,” and continually invited them to seek in that Heart their rule of life, and especially their model of Christian charity. For them, moreover, he instituted the first liturgical feast of the Most Pure Heart of Mary, which was celebrated on February 8th of each year.

The Society of Jesus and Mary (the Eudists) was founded by John Eudes at Caen in 1643. He first conceived the idea of this new Society in 1641, when he was yet a member of the Oratory. In fact, it appears that he quitted this latter Congregation in order to establish the Society which now bears his name. In his intention, the Eudists were to be apostles and promoters of devotion to the Heart of Mary. He never ceased to inculcate this devotion amongst his priests, reminding them that “the Congregation is dedicated in an especial manner to the Holy Hearts of Jesus and Mary, and that they must love and honour these Hearts as their principal Patrons.” In his numerous letters to them, he frequently alluded to the same subject, and earnestly- besought them to spread his cherished devotion among the people.

The Saint’s third foundation is not a religious congregation, nor even a “Third Order” properly so called, but only an Association of holy women living in the world and practising perfect chastity. It bears the beautiful name, of the “Society of the Heart of the Mother Most Admirable.” His saintly friend,, Marie Desvalles, was the first associate of this new Society. It is still in existence, and now numbers about 25,000 associates. Probably no Society established by St. John Eudes did so much as this one for the propagation of devotion to the Heart of Mary.

But St. John was not content with spreading this devotion among his own children. He preached it also in his missions everywhere he went. From diocese to diocese, from parish to parish, this saintly priest passed, sowing, as he went, the seeds of a lasting devotion in the souls of his hearers. In the confessional as in the pulpit, the apostle of the Heart of Mary spent himself in the work of establishing his beloved devotion. To souls willing to advance in the path of perfection, he proposed the Immaculate Heart of Mary as the Model of all the virtues. To the weak and to sinners, he held it up as the sure means of salvation and perseverance. Despite Jansenistic outcries, he continued to inculcate this devotion, and eventually preached no mission or retreat without making the Sacred Hearts of Jesus and Mary known and loved. His sermons everywhere were crowned with success, for, as a result of his apostolic labours, confraternities in honour of the Most Pure Heart of Mary were established in many parishes.

At length, in 1648, he had the happiness of seeing the desire of his heart fulfilled, for the feast of the Heart of Mary was for the first time publicly celebrated at Autun. That town is remarkable not only as the place where the feast of the Most Pure Heart of Mary first appeared in the Church’s public liturgy, but also as the spot where, thirty years later, the devotion to the Sacred Heart flourished in all its perfection. Here, again, Mary prepared the way for her Son.

The hour of Providence came when St. John preached a mission in Autun, and profited by the occasion to establish a public feast in honour of Mary’s Immaculate Heart. The Mass and Office composed by himself for the feast were first approved by the Bishop of Autun, Mgs. Claude de Ragny. On February 8th, the saint celebrated the solemn Mass of the feast in the cathedral. The crowds, which thronged the sacred edifice, seemed to be set on fire with love of the Immaculate Heart of their dear Mother. Everybody united in celebrating that beautiful feast in a befitting manner, and we are told that the day was marked by a religious enthusiasm scarcely ever surpassed in that diocese.

Having established the feast at Autun, he set out to establish it in other parishes and dioceses of France. The ardent missionary let no occasion pass without obtaining for the feast and its office the approval of Bishops and theologians. In July, 1648, he preached a magnificent mission in Fere-en-Tardenois. The Pastor of that diocese, Mgr. Simon Ledgers, came in person to witness the wonderful success of the apostolic preacher, and afterwards approved the Office and Mass of the Most Pure Heart of Mary. Other Bishops followed his example, and by their sanction gave a great impetus to the devotion. By these approbations, the feast gradually made its place secure in the liturgy, and served as a potent means of spreading the new devotion among the faithful.

St. John Eude’s missionary work was the main spring of all this progress. If to these approbations and to the numerous feasts celebrated in many dioceses of France we add the confraternities established, the many altars, chapels, and churches erected, the offices, litanies and prayers composed in honour of Mary’s Immaculate Heart, we shall have a more complete idea of what the saint accomplished for this devotion.

In spite of his wonderful zeal, the apostle of the Heart of Mary was not destined to obtain complete success. The greatest desire of his heart was to obtain Papal approbation for the Feast and office. that were already approved by the Bishops of France. By this means, he hoped to make his cherished devotion known not only in his own country, but also throughout the entire Church. In 1668 he obtained the approbation of the Papal Legate in France, Cardinal de Vondome. Encouraged by this success, he endeavoured to procure the Sanction of the Congregation of Rites for the devotion. Rome, however, was slow to act, and in 1669, the answer “non expedit” (“it is not expedient”) was given. Nevertheless, he succeeded in obtaining from the reigning Pontiff, Clement IX, many privileges and indulgences for the confraternities instituted by him in honour of Mary’s Immaculate Heart. It was only in later times that this devotion obtained the proud position it now enjoys in the Catholic Church.

The third means he adopted to spread devotion to the Heart of Mary was the apostolate of the Press. A missionary and man of work, he was also one of the most remarkable of ascetical writers of the 17th century. In his letters to his spiritual sons and daughters, in his publications concerning the Mass and Office of the Heart of Mary, in his published works on that same Heart, he is once again the great apostle of this devotion. His literary endeavours contributed in no small degree to the making of this new devotion public and universal. In 1648, he wrote that’ beautiful book, “Devotion to the Most Pure Heart and to the Holy Name of the Virgin Mary.” His principal work, begun in 1663, and completed only some weeks before his death, is entitled, “The Amiable Heart of the Mother of God.” Few works, indeed, have been written on this subject; but of those that are written none surpasses, in sublimity of thought and beauty of sentiment, this last mentioned book. In it the numerous perfections and virtues of Mary’s spotless Heart are explained and glorified. In it, also, the history, theory, and practice of devotion to that Heart are clearly and solidly expounded.

We see, then, that St. John Eudes, by the societies he founded, the missions he preached, and the spiritual books he wrote, is truly “the author, doctor, and apostle of the devotion to the Pure Heart of Mary.” That title was bestowed on him by the Vicar of Christ himself, and his it shall remain for all time. After a life of merits and good works, this holy priest died in the odour of sanctity on August 19th, 1680. The fifty-five years of his sacred ministry were spent in the propagation of the devotion to the .Immaculate Heart of his Dear Mother. On January 6th, 1903, his virtues were declared heroic by the great Pope Leo XIII, and on April 11th, 1909, Pius X decreed his beatification. On earth he loved and served the Heart of his immaculate Queen; now in heaven he loves, and will love for ever, that same spotless Heart. The day came when Blessed Father Eudes was raised to the altars of the Church. He was solemnly canonized on the 31st day of May, 1925, by Pius XI, and has been proclaimed Father, Doctor, and Apostle of the Devotion to the Sacred Hearts of Jesus and Mary.

At Father Eude’s death in 1680, devotion to the Heart of Mary flou rished in many of the dioceses of France. Like the grain of mustard seed, it grew and spread throughout that country until it became an important part of the liturgy. France, the eldest daughter of the Church, is certainly a land favoured by Heaven. There, the Sacred Heart of Jesus appeared in radiance and glory, asking His faithful children to make amends by their love for the ingratitude of mankind. There,. also, the Immaculate Virgin Mary revealed herself, not at Lourdes alone, but in many places and at different times. The numerous sanctuaries of Our Lady, served by the Oblates of Mary Immaculate, from the first days of the Congregation, give testimony to the many favours and blessings conferred on France by the Blessed Virgin herself. Jesus and Mary have been good to France. She was then one of the most Catholic of nations, her people loved and honoured the Sacred Heart of Jesus and the Immaculate Heart of His own Divine Mother. This twofold devotion brought down on the faithful innumerable graces and blessings. Nowhere, perhaps, have these two devotions been practised with greater fervour and intensity than at Paray-le-Monial, a place rendered famous for all time by the apparitions of the Sacred Heart to Saint Margaret Mary.

Born near Autun in 1647, this Saint had from her early childhood a tender love for the Immaculate Heart of Mary. When she entered the Visitandine convent at Paray-le-Monial, this devotion formed a large part of the spiritual life of the community, and the feast of the Heart of Mary, established in Autun by the Blessed Father Eudes, was annually celebrated there. The members of that community emulated one another in paying homage to that Heart, but St. Margaret Mary outshone them all in the intensity of her love and devotion.

In the year 1688, the Saint beheld a wonderful vision. One day, as she knelt before the tabernacle, she saw two Hearts-the Sacred Heart of Jesus and Mary-and between them a smaller one representing. her own. While she gazed with wonder upon those objects, she heard Our Lord’s voice saying to her: “It is thus that My Divine love unites those three Hearts for ever.” From that day, the holy servant of God understood that her divine Master wished her to include in her love of His Sacred Heart the love of His Mother’s spotless Heart also; that these two Hearts must be ever inseparable in her homage and devotion. That this implied wish of our loving Saviour was always carried out during her lifetime we know with certainty from the writings of her biographers. Father Gallifet S.J., for instance, writes thus:- “Sister Margaret Mary always united devotion to the Heart of Mary to her devotion to the Sacred Heart of Jesus. From her, no doubt, Father de la Colombière learned this former devotion, for he also ever united thesetwo Hearts in his homage and love.” There were two practices, especially, by which the Saint honoured the Most Pure Heart of Mary-the frequent recitation of a litany composed by herself in honour of that Heart, and of an act of consecration which she often made at the foot of Mary’s altar; For her, as for Saint John Eudes, this devotion was an infallible and powerful means of winning the love of the Sacred Heart of Jesus Himself. To both, the motto “ Ad Cor Jesu per Cor Mariae” was dear and expressive, for they applied it to their devotion and made it the guiding principle of their lives.

After St. Margaret Mary, we find a great number of devout clients of the Sacred Heart who practised and propagated devotion to the Immaculate Heart of Mary. Holy priests, such as Fathers de la Colombière, Gallifet, Cróiset, Bouzonie and others, spent themselves, by word and work, in spreading this devotion. The Franciscans and the Jesuits of France vied with one another in making the Heart of Mary known and loved, and in endeavouring to obtain from Rome official sanction for a universal feast and office of that Most Pure Heart.

It is not astonishing, however, that during the revolutionary years of the 18th century, this devotion waned and languished in the hearts of the French people; but even in those troubled times, Divine Providence watched over it with tender care and solicitude, for pious congregations, destined to preserve and augment the devotion, were firmly established in the Church.

Father Picot de Clorivere (1820) was the founder of the Society of the Daughters of the Heart of Mary, a society whose end was, as its holy founder put it, “to make reparation to the Most Pure Heart of Mary for the many homages of which she was deprived by the suppression of religious orders, whose glory it was to have Mary as their Patroness and Mother.” Father Cordon also founded the congregation of the Sacred Hearts of Jesus and Mary, whose mission was to—awaken in the souls of the faithful the devotion so universally and so fervently practised in pre-revolutionary days. In many of the Societies founded in the 18th and 19th centuries a” Guard of Honour” was formed to make reparation to the Sacred Hearts of Jesus and Mary for the many sins and crimes of ungrateful men. The number of such Societies is too great to mention them individually,—but suffice it to say that each and every one gave glory to and increased the honour of, the Immaculate Heart of Mary.

In 1830, a miraculous event, which gave a great impetus to the devotion of which we write, took place in Paris. In that year, Our Blessed Lady appeared in a vision to a French Sister of Charity, Saint Catherine Laboure, and showed her, as a token of grace and mercy to mankind, the model of the miraculous Medal. On one side of the tableau presented to her view, the Sister saw Our Lady standing on a globe and, with out-stretched hands, pouring down graces on all mankind. On the other side, she beheld a large letter M, surmounted by a cross, and beneath it two Hearts-one, the Sacred Heart of Jesus, crowned with a circle of thorns, the other, the. Pure Heart Of Mary, pierced through and through with a sword of sorrow. The Heart of the Mother and that of the Son were bound together in the closest bonds of mutual, inexpressible sorrow; both bore the symbols of the awful suffering inflicted upon them by the sins of men. Surely this vision was a clear manifestation of Our Lady’s will. She wished thereby to convey to her loving children a two-fold message. First, that their love and devotion should include the united Hearts of the Mother and the Son; secondly, that their love should be a love of reparation; their devotion, a devotion of atonement for the sins of the world.

Six years later, in 1836, God’s desire to glorify the Immaculate Hea rt of Mary was manifested in a yet more striking manner. In that year a complete religious transformation took place in the parish of Our Lady of Victories in Paris, and following this, the erection of a large confraternity in honour of the Heart of Mary for the conversion of poor sinners. For a long time preceding this wonderful event, the saintly parish priest, M. Desgenettes, deplored the pitiable condition of his parish. It counted no less than 25,000 souls yet of that vast number very few indeed attended their religious duties. The sacraments were neglected, the church was practically abandoned and religion was at a very low ebb. Such a sad state of affairs must surely have caused many a pang to the heart of the saintly pastor. Yet he did not despair. Using every means in his power to bring back his erring children to God, he continued to pray to the Blessed Virgin for the conversion of his flock.

One day, in December, 1836, while he was making his thanksgiving after Mass, he distinctly heard these words pronounced “Consecrate your church and your parish to the Most Holy and Immaculate Heart of Mary.” No sooner had the voice ceased, than he consecrated himself, his parish, and his people to the Immaculate Heart of Mary, promising at the same time, that if Mary heard his prayer, he would establish in his church a confraternity in her honour. He then set to work to draw the statutes of the proposed confraternity, and on the following Sunday announced at Mass that the first meeting would take place that very evening. How great was his surprise when, on entering the church that evening, he found it almost full! Having read and explained to the people the rules of the confraternity he proposed to establish, he began to chant with them the Litany of Our Lady. When he came to the invocation “Refuge of sinners, pray for us,” an extraordinary emotion took possession of the whole assembly. Instinctively, all those in the church fell on their knees, repeating with wonderful fervour that touching invocation. On that day, the parish was saved, the confraternity of Our Lady, Refuge of Sinners, firmly established, and God’s grace reigned in the place of sin and wickedness. A complete transformation was produced in the hearts of all-a transformation which was due to the mighty power and the clement mercy of the Immaculate Heart of Mary. The Confraternity, established in such an extraordinary fashion, was instrumental in consolidating the good work begun by Our Blessed Lady herself, and in 1838, it was erected into an Archconfraternity by Pope Gregory XVI. Today it counts hundreds of thousands of associates; and hundreds of sodalities affiliated to it. Truly, as M. Desgenetes himself said: “The common Father of the faithful wishes that the Heart of His immaculate Mother be everywhere invoked in favour of poor abandoned sinners.”

Gradually, but steadily, the devotion to Mary’s Heart began to spread throughout the Church of God. In 1885, the Roman Congregation of Rites approved, but not without some modifications, the Office and Mass of the Most Pure Heart of Mary, originally composed by Saint John Eudes.

Before the religious reform of 1911, many dioceses and congregations celebrated that feast but on different days. In April, 1914, the Congregation of Rites definitely fixed the feast on the Saturday following the feast of the Sacred Heart of Jesus. To our mind, this fact again clearly shows the inseparable union that ought to exist between these two devotions. Such is the expressed wish of the Sacred Heart Himself; such also is the desire of Our Blessed Lady and of the Church of Christ, our infallible guide upon earth.

In his encyclical letter of June, 1912, Pius X requested the faithful to dedicate in an especial manner the first Saturday of every month to the Immaculate Heart of Mary. He wished that day to be a day of reparation to Mary’s Heart for the blasphemies and crimes committed against her Holy Name, and for those sins in particular against the glorious privilege of her Immaculate Conception. The first Saturday of. every month is, in the Pope’s intention, an exact parallel to the first Friday, a day of reparation and atonement to the Sacred Heart of Our Lord. To Mary’s Heart, as to that of Jesus, he asks us to return love for love; reparation for personal sins, and atonement for the sins of men. On that day, also, he has been gloriously pleased to grant a plenary indulgence to all those who recite special prayers in honour of the Immaculate Conception of Our Lady, and pray for the Pope’s intentions. From the 12th century onwards, devotion to Mary’s Immaculate Heart has certainly made wonderful progress. And in our day two very desirable events have taken place—Papal sanction for a universal feast of the Heart of Mary and the consecration of the whole human race to that spotless Heart. The Sacred Heart of Jesus now reigns supreme in the Church, for to Him these two homages have been rendered.

In 1856, Pope Pius IX established a universal feast in His honour, to be held each year on the Friday following the octave of Corpus Christi. In 1899, moreover, Pope Leo XIII solemnly consecrated mankind to the Sacred Heart of Jesus.

The Immaculate Heart of Mary now also reigns, as Queen of God’s kingdom, in the Church militant on earth. “Oportet illam regnare.”

Various movements to establish the reign of the Heart of Mary in the Church, and repeated requests to the Holy See from her devout clients have not been wanting in the past. In 1906, in the Church of Notre Dame, the then Archbishop of Paris, Cardinal Richard, consecrated repentant France to the Most Pure Heart of Mary, and put himself at the head of a movement to demand of the Pope the consecration of all the faithful to that same Heart. On the occasion of the Eucharistic Congress at Lourdes, held in July, 1914, a similar demand was submitted to His Holiness Pius X. But the hour of Providence forthe complete exaltation of Mary’s Immaculate Heart had not yet arrived. In answer to these fervent requests, the Holy Father judged it more suitable to reserve this final homage to Mary for some more favourable occasion. The Holy See has now procured for the Immaculate Heart of Mary this supreme glory, and may that final triumph of the church, foretold at the end of the 19th century, by a holy pilgrim, Charles Matte, soon arrive! “When a solemn feast in honour of the Most Pure Heart of Mary will be everywhere established, the hour of the Church’s triumph shall come.” Fiat, Fiat!

BUT Mary kept all these things pondering them in her Heart.” So little has been told us of the thoughts and words of our glorious Queen, that we prize every trace of her stay on earth, and dwell lovingly on what is preserved for us in the too brief record of the Gospels. Just as she had entered on her wonderful mission, just as she had shared the first joys and sorrows of the sacred human Heart of our God and Saviour, a revelation of her own most beautiful and holy heart allows us to penetrate into the secrets of that sanctuary during the long years to come.

The other worshippers at the manger, the other witnesses of those great mysteries (foretelling the greater mysteries to follow), went back into the busy world, where the supernatural impressions made on them might be more or less lost in the crowd of earthly cares and occupations. But the heart of the Mother treasured all “these things,” and her life henceforth was one unbroken contemplation of them, “pondering” them day by day, in deeper sympathy and deeper love.

And so, that pure, compassionate, devoted heart grew daily, holier, tenderer, more devoted still. Purer it could not be, for it was a stranger to the shadow of sin; but its holiness was heightened, its charity intensified, and its union with God perfected till all heaven gave praise to its Maker for the spiritual loveliness of the heart that was hidden in the humble cottage of Nazareth.

Not the least glorious of its gifts was the humility that saw nothing in itself that could attract the eyes of God, save the exceeding “lowliness of His Handmaid,” and not the least precious of its graces was the silence that guarded her constant meditation on the Life that was linked so closely to her own,.-the Sacred Heart Whose earthly rest and consolation were so often found in the sinless heart of His Mother.

Would that she might impart to us her sweet power of comforting that divine Heart, saddened by the ingratitude of His creatures. Would that she might mould her children’s hearts into some faint resemblance to hers-in purity, charity, patience, and self-sacrifice. Would that she might teach us what strength and wisdom and happiness we would find if we, like her, “kept all these things, pondering them” in our hearts. Not merely acknowledging the beauty and truth of the mysteries that surrounded the Incarnate Word, not merely glancing over them, or making them the subject of occasional prayer, but steeping our souls as Mary did, in the contemplation of Them, till we have learned to know our merciful Saviour so intimately that the thought is the dearest of our thoughts, the love of Him supreme in our hearts, as it was in the Immaculate Heart of Mary.

SALUTATION TO OUR LADY

BY ST. JOHN EUDES.

Hail Mary, Daughter of God the Father.

Hail Mary, Mother of God the Son.

Hail Mary, Spouse of God the Holy Ghost.

Hail Mary, Temple of the undivided Divinity.

Hail Mary, fair Lily of the resplendent and ever serene Trinity.

Hail Mary, bright Rose of Heavenly beauty.

Hail Mary, Virgin of Virgins, Virgin most faithful, of whom the King of Heaven was willing to be born and to be nourished with her milk.

Hail Mary, Queen of Martyrs, whose soul was pierced with the sword of sorrow. Hail Mary, Mistress of the world, to whom is given all power in heaven and on earth. Hail Mary, Queen of my Heart, my. Mother, my life, my sweetness and my dearest hope. Hail Mary, Mother most amiable.

Hail Mary, Mother most admirable.

Hail Mary, Mother of mercy.

Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee.

Blessed art thou amongst women, and blessed the fruit of thy Womb, Jesus. Blessed is thy spouse, Joseph.

Blessed is thy father Joachim.

Blessed is thy mother Anne.

Blessed is thy son John.

Blessed is thy angel Gabriel.

Blessed is the Eternal Father, who made choice of thee.

Blessed is the Son, who loved Thee.

Blessed is the Holy Ghost who espoused thee.

Blessed for ever are those who bless thee and love thee.

O Virgin Mary with thy loving child, bless us.

Amen.

Nihil Obstat:

W. F. O’CONNOR O.M.I

Imprimi Potest:

JOSEPH M. F. DANAHER, O.M.I, D. Ph., D.D., Provincialis,.

Nihil Obstat:

JACOBUS BROWNE, Censor Deputatus.

Imprimi Potest:

@ GULIELMUS,

Episcopus Fernensis. Die 10 Februarii, 1936.

********

Devotion To The Sacred Heart

THE MORNING OFFERING

INDEX

The morning offering is the means by which all our thoughts, words and actions of each succeeding day are directed in a special way towards God’s glory. It may be made in thought, in the heart only, or in words. The following is perhaps the shortest and most common form used:

O Jesus, through the Immaculate Heart of Mary, I offer you the prayers, works and sufferings of this day, for all the intentions of your divine Heart, in union with the holy sacrifice of the Mass.

By this simple offering, the life of each individual becomes wholly consecrated each day to our divine Lord and his interests. Hour by hour, moment by moment, second by second, as we go through the routine of our daily life, we gain merits which enable our Lord to dispense more of his graces and to give help to sorely tried souls, whose eternal destiny is perhaps trembling in the balance and depends upon the very grace which our morning offering empowers him to give. When we give our merits to Christ and leave their application to him, he can dispense the grace as he knows best and in the most useful way to mankind. The value and efficacy of the merits which we offer by the daily morning oblation are immeasurably enhanced by being offered in union with the sacrifice of the Mass, the oblation of which our Lord himself offers daily upon our altars.

Thus, by the daily gift of love, our lives are made an unbroken prayer; they are blended into constant prayerful union with the ineffable supplications of the pleading Heart of Jesus upon our altars, and become useful and helpful to him in realising more fully his unquenchable desire for the salvation and sanctification of the souls of men.

THE APOSTLESHIP OF PRAYER

Millions of devoted friends of our Lord have been united into one great league of prayer for the interests of the Sacred Heart, and have pledged themselves to make this morning offering each day. This league is known as the Apostleship of Prayer.

Its members are gathered into one great body embracing union of prayer and supplication in the name of him who gave the assurance that where two or three are gathered together in his name he is in their midst and hearkens most readily to their supplications. Over the years succeeding Vicars of Christ have given their approval, blessing and encouragement to the league of the Apostleship of Prayer.

In addition to the morning oblation, many millions of members of the Apostleship of Prayer strive to further the interests of the Sacred Heart by saying one Our Father and ten Hail Marys daily for the intentions of the Pope. Other members also practise and encourage a spirit of reparation to the Sacred Heart by receiving holy Communion frequently and by keeping the “Holy Hour” on each Thursday to commemorate the Agony of our Lord in the Garden.

Should not our hearts be enkindled with a spirit of prayerful devotedness when we think of the pressing need of help for countless souls, of the intense desires of the Sacred Heart for their salvation, of the millions of our brethren united with us in an unceasing offering of prayer for the intentions of the Sacred Heart, and of the daily opportunities and advantages of such prayerful zeal? Let us rejoice in uniting the offerings of our prayers, works and sufferings with those of millions of devoted lovers of the Sacred Heart, so that his kingdom may be extended on earth and a countless number of. souls be brought to rejoice with him in heaven for ever!

PROMISES OF THE SACRED HEART

1. I will give them all the graces necessary for their state of life.

2. I will establish peace in their families.

3. I will bless every home in which an image of my Heart shall be exposed and honoured.

4. I will console them in all their difficulties.

5. I will be their refuge during life and especially at the hour of death.

6. I will shed abundant blessings upon all their undertakings.

7. Sinners shall find in my Heart a fountain and boundless ocean of mercy.

8. Tepid souls shall become fervent.

9. Fervent souls shall rise speedily to great perfection.

10. I will give priests the power of touching the hardest hearts.

11. Those who propagate this devotion shall have their names written in my Heart, never to be blotted out.

12. In the excessive mercy of my Heart I will grant the grace of final penitence to those who communicate on the first Friday of nine consecutive months; they shall not die in my displeasure or without the sacraments. My divine Heart will be their safe refuge in this last moment.

ACT OF CONSECRATION TO THE SACRED HEART OF JESUS

Most sweet Jesus, redeemer of the human race, look down upon us, humbly prostrate before Thy altar. We are yours and yours we wish to be; but to be more surely united with Thee, behold each one of us freely consecrates himself today to Thy most Sacred Heart. Many, indeed, have never known Thee while many others, despising Thy precepts, have rejected Thee. Have mercy on them all, most merciful Jesus and draw them to Thy Sacred Heart. Be King, O Lord, not only of the faithful who have never forsaken Thee, but also of the prodigal children who have abandoned Thee; grant that they may quickly return to their Father’s house, lest they die of wretchedness and hunger. Be King of those who are deceived by erroneous opinions, or whom discord keeps aloof, and call them back to the harbour of truth and unity of faith, so that soon there may be but one flock and one Shepherd. Be King of all those who are still involved in the darkness of idolatry or of Islamism, and refuse not to draw them all into the light and kingdom of God. Turn Thine eyes of mercy toward the children of that race, once Thy chosen people. Of old they called down upon themselves the blood of the Saviour; may it now descend upon them, a layer of redemption and of life. Grant, O Lord, to Thy Church, assurance of freedom and immunity from harm; give peace and order to all nations, and make the earth resound from pole to pole with one cry:

Praise to the divine Heart that wrought our salvation; to it be glory and honour for ever. Amen.

(The Act of Consecration to the Sacred Heart is taken from the encyclical of Pope Leo XIII of May 25, 1899 and contains the additions made by the Sacred Congregation of Rites in October 1925).

CONSECRATION OF THE FAMILY TO THE DIVINE HEART OF JESUS Divine Heart of Jesus, Thou promised that where two or three persons assemble in Thy name, Thou would be in their midst. Behold us here on our knees before Thy sacred image. With hearts filled with sentiments of fervent love, we thank Thee for Thine infinite goodness in having bestowed upon us numberless benefits for soul, and body.

O Divine King, through the Immaculate Heart of Mary, and under the powerful protection of St Joseph, we consecrate to Thee our entire family. Be the director of all our interests, and may our home, like that of Nazareth, be the abode of faith and charity, of labour and prayer, of order and domestic peace.

We consecrate to Thee, divine Heart of Jesus, all the adversities and occurrences of our family life, and beseech Thee to pour out upon us in abundant measure all Thy richest blessings. We commend ourselves forever to the protection of Thy divine Heart. Heart of Jesus, ocean of mercy and love, assist us at the hour of our death. Amen.

O SACRED HEART, BLESS OUR FAMILY

Prostrate before Thee, Lord Jesus Christ, we consecrate to Thy Sacred Heart ourselves and everything dear to us: our thoughts, words and actions; our sorrows, our hopes, our relatives and friends. We desire to belong entirely to Thee, to know all things, and to despise ihe pleasures, riches and honours of this world and everything which could be an obstacle in Thy service.

Sacred Heart of Jesus, teach us, by Thine example in the stable of Bethlehem and by Thy whole life, meekness and humility. Teach us, by Thine agony and sufferings on the Cross, patience and resignation to the holy will of God. Teach us, in the mystery of the holy Eucharist, to admire Thy power, wisdom and love. Three hundred years ago Thou revealed to St Margaret Mary Thy desire to receive the special homage of Thy creatures. In obedience to that divine entreaty, behold us at Thy feet to consecrate to Thy service and love our hearts, our family and our home in a special manner.

Heart of Jesus, in the name of Mary and under the patronage of St Joseph we consecrate to Thee our whole household. Like Nazareth, may it always be a centre of faith, hope, charity and peace; a hive of prayer and true zeal for Thy glory. Guide our lives, direct our steps, and sustain us in all our ways. We earnestly consecrate to Thee all the trials, afflictions, joys and events of our domestic life.

We beseech Thee to pour Thy blessing upon every member of this family: those who are gathered here and those who are absent; those who are living and those who are dead. With confidence we entrust them all to Thee. If, among them, there be any who have lost Thy grace and grieved Thy loving Heart by sin, with deepest sorrow we now desire to offer reparation and implore forgiveness for them.

We beg Thy mercy and grace, also, for every family in the whole world. O Sacred Heart, shelter the cradle of the newborn babe; bless the child at school; guide the vocation of young men and women; sweeten the lot of the sufferer; support the aged; console the widow; be a Father to the orphan.

O Sacred Heart of Jesus, we entrust to Thee our own dear country and all those, who govern us. O Jesus, source and infinite ocean of mercy, we beseech Thee assist us in the sufferings and agony of death. Unite us, then, still more closely to Thy Heart and to the Heart of Thine Immaculate Mother. Be our refuge and our place of rest; and when our souls have taken their flight to dwell for ever in Thy Sacred Heart, may we see again in. heaven ever y member of this family which we now so earnestly and unitedly desire to consecrate without reserve to Thee. Amen.

ACT OF CONSECRATION FOR RELIGIOUS

(Suitable also for other persons)

My most loving Jesus, I consecrate myself today anew and without reserve to Thy divine Heart. I consecrate to Thee my body with all its senses, my soul with all its faculties: my whole being. I consecrate to Thee all my thoughts, words and actions; all my sufferings and labours; all my hopes, consolations and joys; and, above all, I consecrate to Thee my poor heart, that it may love only Thee and be consumed as a victim in the fire of Thy love. Accept, O Jesus, my most loving spouse, the desire that I have to console Thy divine Heart and to be yours for ever. Possess me in such a manner that henceforward I may have no other liberty than that of loving Thee, no other life than that of suffering and dying for Thee.

I place in Thee unlimited trust and I hope, from Thy infinite mercy, for the pardon of my sins. I place in Thy hands all my cares, especially that of my eternal salvation. I promise to love and honour Thee to the last moment of my life, and to propagate, with the help of Thy divine grace and as far as I am able, devotion to Thy Sacred Heart. Dispose of me, O divine Heart of Jesus, according to Thy pleasure; I desire no other recompense than Thy greater glory and Thy holy love.

Grant me the grace to find my dwelling place in Thy Sacred Heart where I desire to pass every day of my life and where I wish to breathe my last breath. Make my heart Thine abode, the place of Thy repose, so that we may remain intimately united until, finally, I may praise, love, and possess Thee for all eternity, singing for ever the infinite mercy of Thy Sacred Heart. Amen.

- Sister Mary of the Divine Heart

PRIVATE ACT OF CONSECRATION

I consecrate and surrender to the Sacred Heart of our Lord Jesus Christ, my person, my life, my difficulties and my sufferings, that I may henceforth live only for his love and glory. It is my firm and unwavering purpose to be his entirely, to do everything for his love and renounce wholeheartedly everything that could displease his divine Heart.

O Sacred Heart, I choose Thee as the sole object of my love, the protector of my life, the pledge of my salvation, the support of my weakness and the atoner for all the sins of my whole life. O mild and bountiful Heart, be likewise my refuge at the hour of death, my justification before God, and ward off from me the penalty of his just wrath. O loving Heart, I place my trust entirely in Thee. While I fear everything from my own malice I hope everything from Thy goodness. Destroy in me whatever may displease Thee or be opposed to Thee, and let Thy pure love imprint Thee so deeply upon my heart that it will be impossible for me ever to forget Thee or be separated from Thee.

O Sacred Heart, by Thy goodness, I implore Thee, let my name be deeply engraved in Thee, for in Thy service and in Thy love I will live and die.

- St Margaret Mary Alacoque

LITANY OF THE SACRED HEART LORD, HAVE MERCY

Christ, have mercy.

Lord, have mercy.

Christ, hear us.

Christ, graciously hear us.

God, the Father in heaven, Have mercy on us.

God the Son, redeemer of the world,

God, the Holy Ghost,

Holy Trinity, one God,

Heart of Jesus, Son of the eternal Father,

Heart of Jesus, formed by the Holy Spirit in the womb of the Virgin Mother, Heart of Jesus, substantially united to the Word of God,

Heart of Jesus, infinite in majesty,

Heart of Jesus, sacred temple of God,

Heart of Jesus, tabernacle of the most high,

Heart of Jesus, house of God and gate of heaven,

Heart of Jesus, aflame with love for men,

Heart of Jesus, abode of justice and love,

Heart of Jesus, full of goodness and love,

Heart of Jesus, endless source of all virtues,

Heart of Jesus, worthy of all praise,

Heart of Jesus, King and centre of all hearts,

Heart of Jesus, in whom are all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge, Heart of Jesus, in whom dwells the fullness of divinity,

Heart of Jesus, in whom the Father was well pleased,

Heart of Jesus, of whose fullness we have all received,

Heart of Jesus, desire of the everlasting hills,

Heart of Jesus, patient and merciful,

Heart of Jesus, enriching all who invoke Thee,

Heart of Jesus, fountain of life and holiness,

Heart of Jesus, atonement for our sins,

Heart of Jesus, loaded down with opprobrium,

Heart of Jesus, bruised for our offences,

Heart of Jesus, obedient unto death,

Heart of Jesus, pierced with a lance,

Heart of Jesus, source of all consolation,

Heart of Jesus, our life and resurrection,

Heart of Jesus, our peace and reconciliation, Heart of Jesus, victim for sin,

Heart of Jesus, salvation of those who trust in Thee, Heart of Jesus, hope of those who die in Thee, Heart of Jesus, delight of all the saints,

Lamb of God, who take away the sins of the world, Spare us, O Lord.

Lamb of God, who take away the sins of the world, Graciously hear us, O Lord.

Lamb of God, who take away the sins of the world, Have mercy on us.

V. Jesus, meek and humble of heart,

R. Make our hearts like yours.

LET US PRAY

Almighty and eternal God, look upon the Heart of Thy most beloved Son and upon the praise and satisfaction which he offers Thee in the name of sinners; and to those who implore Thy mercy, in Thy great goodness grant forgiveness in the name of the same Jesus Christ, Thy Son, who lives and reigns with Thee for ever and ever. Amen.

THREE OFFERINGS OF THANKSGIVING

We offer to the most holy Trinity the merits of Jesus Christ, in thanksgiving for the precious Blood which he shed in the Garden for us, and through these merits we beseech his divine majesty to grant us the pardon of all our sins. Our Father, Hail Mary and Glory be.

We offer to the most holy Trinity the merits of Jesus Christ in thanksgiving for his most precious death endured on the cross for us, and through these merits we beseech the divine majesty pardon of our sins.

Our Father, Hail Mary and Glory be.

We offer to the most holy Trinity the merits of Jesus Christ in thanksgiving for his unimaginable charity, by which he descended from heaven to earth to take human flesh, and to suffer and die for us on the cross, and by these merits we beseech his divine majesty to bring our souls to the glory of heaven after our death.

Our Father, Hail Mary and Glory be .

GREETING THE SACRED HEART

Once when St Mechtilde was grieving over the thought that her whole life had been spent in a useless manner, our Lord said to her: “In order to make amends for what Thou have neglected, greet my Heart!” Our divine Saviour made a similar revelation to St Gertrude: “As often as a person greets me, I will greet him, and this will redound to his honour in heaven.” St Clare greeted the Sacred Heart of Jesus daily, and received special graces each day.

When we have committed a fault, let us make an act of contrition and greet the Sacred Heart of Jesus. This divine Heart is ever ready to repair our offences. We should especially greet the heart of Jesus in the blessed Sacrament. St Mechtilde ardently venerated the Sacred Heart of Jesus in the Holy Eucharist, and in return received from our Lord so many graces that in referring to them, she said: “Were I to write down all the graces I received from the loving Heart of Jesus, I would need a book thicker than the breviary.”

Heart of my Jesus, save me!

Heart of my Creator, perfect me!

Heart of my Saviour, deliver me!

Heart of my Spouse, love me!

Heart of my Master, teach me!

Heart of my King, crown me!

Heart of my Benefactor, enrich me!

Heart of my Pastor, keep me!

Heart of my Friend, caress me!

Heart of the Infant Jesus, attract me!

Heart of Jesus dying on the cross, atone for me!

Heart of Jesus in all Thy conditions, give yourself to me!

Heart of my Brother, remain with me! Heart of incomparable goodness, forgive me! Heart most amiable, inflame me!

Heart most glorious, shine forth in me!

Heart most charitable, work in me!

Heart most merciful, answer for me!

Heart most humble, repose in me!

Heart most patient, bear with me!

Heart most faithful, make satisfaction for me!

Heart most adorable and most worthy, bless me!

Heart most peaceful, calm me! Heart most desirable and most beautiful, delight me! Heart most illustrious and most perfect, ennoble me!

Heart most holy and balm most precious, preserve and sanctify me! Heart most holy and most salutary, reform me!

Heart most blessed, true physician and remedy for all ills, heal me!

Heart of Jesus, consolation of the afflicted, comfort me!

Heart of Jesus, ardent furnace burning with love, consume me!

Heart of Jesus, model of perfection, enlighten me!

Heart of Jesus, source of all happiness, strengthen me!

Heart of eternal benediction, call me to Thee! Amen

ACT OF REPARATION TO THE SACRED HEART

Blessed be God.

Blessed be his holy Name.

Blessed be Jesus Christ, true God and true Man.

Blessed be the name of Jesus. Blessed be his most Sacred Heart. Blessed be his most Precious Blood. Blessed be

Jesus in the most holy Sacrament of the altar.

Blessed be the Holy Spirit, the Paraclete.

Blessed be the great Mother of God, Mary most holy.

Blessed be her holy and Immaculate Conception.

Blessed be her glorious Assumption.

Blessed by the name of Mary, Virgin and Mother.

Blessed be Saint Joseph, her most chaste spouse.

Blessed be God in his angels and in his saints.

OFFERING OF THE BLOOD AND WATER THAT FLOWED FROM THE SIDE OF CHRIST O Jesus, my dearest Saviour, through Thee I offer to Thine eternal Father the precious blood and water which flowed from Thy wounded Heart on the tree of the cross. Grant that this blood and water may be efficaciously applied to us and to all sinners. Cleanse, purify and sanctify all men in virtue of Thy merits. Grant, O Jesus, that we may enter into Thy most loving Heart and remain there for ever. Amen.

Eternal Father, accept the precious blood and water that flowed from the wound of the divine Heart of Jesus as a sacrifice of reparation for the necessities of holy Church and in atonement for the sins of men. Have mercy on us. Amen.

PRAYER TO THE SACRED HEART OF JESUS IN THE HOLY EUCHARIST Behold, my most loving Jesus, to what an excess Thy boundless love has carried Thee. Of Thine own flesh and precious blood Thou have made ready for me a divine banquet so as to give me yourself completely. What was it that impelled Thee to this transport of love? Nothing else surely save Thy most loving Heart. O adorable Heart of my Jesus! O burning furnace of divine love! Within Thy most sacred wound receive my soul, that in that school of charity I may learn to requite the love of that God who has given me such wondrous proofs of his love. Amen.

PRAYER TO THE DIVINE HEART OF JESUS

O most holy Heart of Jesus, fountain of all good, I adore Thee, I love Thee. Deeply sorry for my sins I offer Thee my poor heart. Make it humble, patient, pure, and in all things conformed to Thy desires.

Grant, O good Jesus, that I may live in Thee and for Thee. Protect me in dangers, console me in affliction, give me health of body, assistance in my temporal needs, blessing in all my undertakings and the grace of a holy death. Amen

DAILY PRAYER OF ST GERTRUDE

Hail to Thee, most Sacred Heart of Jesus, living and life-giving source of eternal life, infinite treasure of the divinity, consuming furnace of divine love! You are my resting place and my city of refuge. My sweetest Saviour, inflame my heart with that burning love with which Thy Heart is consumed! Pour into my heart those precious graces which spring forth from Thy Heart as from their source. Unite my heart so intimately with yours that Thy will may be mine, and that mine may be ever in perfect accord with yours; for my only desire is that, in future, Thy most adorable will may be the rule of all my desires and actions. Amen.

OFFERING TO THE SACRED HEART

O Lord Jesus Christ, in union with that divine intention with which, on earth, Thou offered praise to God through Thy Sacred Heart and continue to offer now in all places in the sacrament of the Eucharist, and will do so to the end of the world, I most willingly offer Thee throughout this entire day, without the smallest exception, all my intentions and thoughts, all my affections and desires, all my words and actions, in imitation of the most pure heart of the Immaculate Virgin Mary.

PRAYER TO OBTAIN CONFORMITY TO THE SACRED HEART

O dearest Jesus, whose most amiable Heart excludes not even the greatest sinners when they turn to Thee, I beseech

Thee to grant me and all penitent sinners a heart like yours; that is, a humble heart, which even in the midst of temporal honours loves a hidden life, a life little esteemed by men; a meek heart, which bears with everyone and seeks revenge upon no one; a patient heart, which is resigned in adversity, and happy even in the most trying circumstances; a peaceful heart, which is ever at peace with others and with itself; a disinterested heart, which is always contented with what it has; a heart which loves prayer and performs it often and cheerfully; a heart whose only desire is that God may be known, honoured and loved by all creatures; a heart which grieves for nothing except that God is offended; despises nothing but sin; wishes for nothing but the glory of God and its neighbour’s salvation; a pure heart, which in all things seeks God alone and desires only to please him; a grateful heart, which acknowledges and esteems the benefits of God; a strong heart, which is daunted by no evil, but bears all adversity for the love of God; an open heart, liberal to the poor and compassionate towards the suffering souls in purgatory; a well-ordered heart, whose joys and sorrows, desires and aversions, nay, whose every motion is regulated according to the divine will. Amen.

- St Clement Hofbauer

EFFICACIOUS LITTLE ACT OF CONSECRATION TO THE SACRED HEART O amiable Heart of my Saviour, I adore Thee! O gracious Heart of my Jesus, I love Thee! O compassionate Heart, I give Thee my heart, and am deeply moved by all Thou have done and suffered for me. I give Thee my heart completely; affix it to Thy Heart eternally; inflame it with Thy love; inspire it with Thy sentiments; make it know Thy will and practise Thy virtues.

- Venerable Maria Lataate

ACT OF RESIGNATION FOR THE SICK OR AFFLICTED

Most benign Jesus, I accept willingly this sickness (or this trial) which it has pleased Thee to lay upon me as a token of the love of Thy fatherly Heart, and with the same love with which Thou have sent it, I offer it up to Thee in gratitude. Moreover, I confide all my pains to Thy Sacred Heart, beseeching Thee to unite them to Thy bitter sufferings, and thus perfect them by making them Thy own.

Since I cannot render Thee the praise due to Thee because of the multitude of my sorrows and afflictions, I beseech Thee to praise God the Father for all I suffer, with the same tribute of praise Thou offered him when Thy agony on the cross was at its height. As Thou thanked him with all the powers of Thy soul for all the sufferings and injustice which he willed Thou should endure, I pray Thee, give him thanks for all my trials also.

Animated by the same love wherewith Thou accepted all the wounds and indignities inflicted on Thee, offering them to Thy heavenly Father with profound gratitude, I pray Thee to offer my physical and spiritual sufferings to him also, in union with Thy most holy pains, to his eternal honour and glory. Amen.

Nihil Obstat: William Dougherty Censor Deputatus

Imprimatur: James Madden Vicar General ********

Do We Survive Death?

JOHN CLAVERHOUSE

INDEX

A DAY OF MOURNING

It had been raining hard all day, and as I joined Martin at his study window, I saw that a mist covered the valley below, hiding the lake entirely from view, though the hills beyond loomed up like ghosts in the fast waning light. Our mood was in sympathy with Nature-for we had been attending the funeral of his young nephew, Gerald Lowe. Love for the boy had been one of the many bonds between us-for I, too, had known him from childhood. His death in an air accident near home, soon after returning from service in the R.A.A.F. in Europe, had been a heavy blow to both of us.

Martin had begged me to come home with him after the ceremony was over -he couldn’t stand being alone with his thoughts, he said. As we looked out over the grey, rain-filled, darkening scene, he poured out all the bitterness of his heart. All his hopes had been bound up in the career of his dead brother’s son: he had intended to send him to the United States to complete his scientific studies, and to give him the house after his marriage, as well as making him his heir. We mourned together over Gerald and the young fiancée from whom he had been so tragically torn by death: we recalled his happy, charming childhood, his brilliant youth, the eagerness with which he had answered his country’s call and his pride in her service . . . Then the Gerald who had come back, graver now-saddened and made older by the war, but grown from a splendid youth into a fine man-brave, intelligent, high-minded. . . .

“He was the flower of Australian manhood,” I said. Martin’s face was turned away to the far hills; I heard his voice very low, as though weighted with his grief. He was quoting Scripture. “Man that is born of woman hath but a little time to live and is full of sorrow-he cometh up as a flower and is cut down. . . .” His voice ceased suddenly, and there was a long pause. Then I spoke softly.

RESURRECTION -OR THE DUST-CART?

“Don’t take it like that, old friend,” I said. “You know, the Bible has other things than that to say about life and death-and what lies beyond death. It isn’t the end of everything. “The souls of the just are in the hand of God, and there shall no torment touch them . . . in the sight of the unwise, they seem to die; but they are at peace.”” He still did not speak, and I continued. “And, though you may not be exactly orthodox, I think, if I know you, that Christ’s own word means something to you: “I am the Resurrection and the Life . . .”

He went on then. . . .”If a man believe in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live . . .” But there, his voice broke. “It’s no good, John, I tell you-it’s no good. I”m not a man of faith like you. . . . I wish it could be so, but I can’t feel any confidence. Aren’t you afraid it may all prove to be just “wishful thinking?” We don’t want to die, we don’t want to lose the ones we love for ever and so we wrap ourselves in dreams about a future life. But what does it all amount to?”

Martin turned round and went to the table, switching on the lamp that stood upon it. I saw that a book lay open there, and he took it up to read.

“Listen to this,” he said. “It was written by one of the most brilliant men of our time, who knew himself to be near death.

““The severer our thinking, the plainer it is that the dust-carts of time trundle that dust off to the incinerator and there make an end of it.””

“That’s H. G. Wells, isn’t it?” I said. “I read “Mind at the End of Its Tether” the other day. The sad and despairing testament of a man in some ways great-but not at all convincing, in my opinion.”

Martin set the slim volume down. “I was hoping you’d “bite,”” he said quietly, “because I”ve been wanting to chew over this subject with you ever since . . . ever since I got the news. I can’t just rest in emotional hopes about this-I want reasons for believing that there’s life beyond death and I think arguing with you will take the edge off my misery, anyhow.”

“And mine, too,” I said. “I have faith to comfort me, of course-but I feel pretty desolate, and just about twice as old as last week.”

IS MIND “A FUNCTION OF MATTER?”

“Let’s draw up the chairs to the fire, then,” said my friend. He brought some whisky from the sideboard, and sherry for me; and filling our glasses, we drank silently for a few minutes.

At last Martin leaned back, and spoke again. “To begin with, what ground is there, in reason, for believing that the soul is anything but a “function of matter,” or that it survives death? Of course, I know the spiritualists and table-rappers claim to have demonstrated it-but I can’t say I find their stuff very convincing.”

“If you don’t mind,” I said, “I think we’ll begin by collecting your objections to the proposition that the soul survives. After all, I can claim that my view has been established among men for thousands of years. It’s you who are making the challenge.”

“All right,” said Martin. “Well-scientists tell us that our mental processes are all conditioned by the motions of atoms in our brains: we all know that the action of what we call our “immaterial” part is strictly dependent upon the state of our bodies. All our thinking is based on sense-perceptions which we gain through the body: and our state of mind depends largely on the state of our health, our physical habits, age, and so on. Accidental changes in physical structure, may transform a sane man into a melancholic, a victim of sex-mania or a criminal lunatic. Our mind grows with our body, works through our body, and ceases to work when it sleeps; it is affected by its ills and old age. Why shouldn’t we believe, then, that it is a “function of matter” which perishes when the material body dies?”

“Fairly put,” I said. “Your first case is that of the pure materialist-that what we call “mental phenomena” are simply due to a lot of chemical changes. Of course, nobody in their senses is going to deny the observed facts which prove that the mind gains its impressions and expresses itself through the body, so that physical defects often involve defects of impression and expression. If a piano is out of tune, or has dumb notes, I can’t play a Beethoven Sonata decently on it, however great a musician I am: but that doesn’t prove that the music is “a function of the piano” and that there isn’t any musician. And if the piano was closed, or smashed, or burnt, the player would still be alive, wouldn’t he? And he might find other means of uttering his melodies, even if he had no piano?”

“Very well,” answered Martin. “Suppose I grant that things may be as you say-the body the instrument, the soul the player, so to speak. Is it possible to prove that my position is certainly false? Doesn’t it describe mental action sufficiently well, without having to drag in the notion of a governing, immaterial soul?”

“I can give you a straight answer to that-No!” I said.

“Why not, then?”

PURE MATERIALISM REFUTES ITSELF

“Well, let’s suppose that we are just matter, as you suggest, and our thoughts are just chemical processes in the brain. I believe that the world is round: a planet moving round the sun. You, on the contrary, are an unenlightened person, like the late President Kruger, of the Transvaal. You believe it’s flat, with the sky set over it like a soup-tureen. One of those beliefs is true and the other false-you agree?”

“Certainly-your Martin Kruger’s an ass”

“But let’s look a bit closer. What do those mental phenomena, those “beliefs” amount to? I have a chemical process in my brain which has produced one-you have a process which has produced the other. In what way, then, is one “truer” than the other? All you can say is that both exist as thoughtprocesses.”

“Hang on a bit . . . I want to think this out; it’s tough,” said Martin. He poured out another whisky, and sipped it slowly. Then he smiled.

“I think I can add a bit to your argument,” he said. “On the premises I laid down, I don’t see how you can even say that the “thought-processes” exist and mean anything; because that judgment itself is just a chemical product of your brain, and there’s no meaning in calling it “true” or “false.” And, in the final analysis, you can’t use any process of reasoning, or establish any fact whatever.”

“Exactly,” I answered. “Even the word “I have reason to suppose” has no meaning. In fact, the proposition that the mind is simply a material product refutes itself.

“It reminds me of a story I once read in a book about an artist-lunatic who wanted to paint the universe. When he finished his picture, he saw it wasn’t complete-you see, he was still outside the picture himself. So then, he painted himself in. But then, there was the “self” outside still distinct from the image in the picture and so the problem of finishing the picture could never be solved. In the same way, if we describe ourselves as “material beings” we give no account of our own belief or knowledge that this is true. We can’t be the matter and also the knowing that we are the matter.”

“You’re making my head go round,” said Martin. “But-excuse me-don’t you think you’ve proved a bit too much?”

“What do you mean?”

“If I can’t know my mind as matter, how can I know it as mind? When I think of myself, aren’t I making another “self” like your lunatic artist?”

“I don’t think so,” I said. “When the thinking subject is once admitted as something different from a mere chemical process, truth and reason have a real meaning: you can think thoughts and form judgments about either the material world or yourself. The mind is conscious and self-conscious, which means that it can double back and think of itself ; and all the while it is aware that it is both the thinking subject and the object thought of-it isn’t just “painting a picture.” In- cidentally, the fact that the mind can do this is another reason for believing that it is nonmaterial.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, no material action that we know has any resemblance to this action of the mind. A knife doesn’t cut itself, an eye doesn’t look at itself, a mouth doesn’t eat itself . . .”

“ENERGY PATTERNED INTO WORLDS”

Martin said “We seem to have got to the point of knowing definitely that mind isn’t just a by -product of matter. But couldn’t they be just different aspects of the same phenomenon-some stuff which isn’t either mental or material?”

It was my turn now to ask for an explanation.

“A lot of scientists,” said my friend, “have got the notion that the distinction between mind and matter is what they call “departmental thinking.” They run together, it is said. Nature is “energy patterned into worlds,” and it includes purpose, working itself up into organic life and then into conscious, thinking life.”

“In that case,” I said, “the lowest matter must be spiritual as well as material; because the original “stuff” of the universe must contain the mind which becomes manifest later.”

“It’s only in the higher stages of evolution that the power of universal energy shows itself as mind.” said Martin.

“Come, come,” I said. “You can’t have that, you know, The word “energy” you use is pinched from the material world-and applied to a quite different kind of activity-and the difference is quietly ignored. The idea of unconscious “power” and “energy” having purpose and aim is a lot of nonsense; and it’s only made plausible by slipping in words which suggest an Agent-a real mind-behind the scene. To call “mind” and “matter” the same thing is to use words which haven’t any real meaning. A real egg you can eat, and my thoughts about an egg remain as different as ever. And don’t chuck the word “evolution” at me, either-because it’s just another magic word which explains nothing at all. You say matter and material energy engender life and mind in the course of a long and complicated process. It seems to me like saying that if you leave a top hat standing around long enough its “purposive activity” will produce a rabbit-without the aid of a magician! Only one thing is apparent to me: that some people are desperately anxious to dispense with the magician somehow, even if they have to invent the weirdest fancies to do it!”

“You mean that all this is an attempt to escape from the necessity of admitting the existence of God?”

“Yes-the habit of “Theophobia” is pretty deeply-rooted in the thought of a number of our scientific thinkers but it’s not the sort of “Fear of God” which is the beginning of wisdom!”

“Well, John,” said Martin, “I think you’ve done all right so far: I can see that mind and matter must be distinct. And now, where do we go from there?”

LOOKING AT A PICTURE

“I just want to emphasise again” I said “that every attempt to translate the processes of thought into terms of mere matter makes nonsense. Consider the painter of a modernist picture, and a number of spectators looking at it. There’s the picture-an arrangement of colour on canvas. There’s the subject (say, a village street). Both these are undoubtedly material. Then there’s the thought of the artist as he originally conceived it-and as it grew in the course of the painting. Then there are the thoughts of the spectators-of whom three don’t understand it, one thinks it’s something else, one has a vague idea, and one has an understanding somewhere near the artist’s. How can all this be conveyed in terms either of a materialistic philosophy or one which regards mind and matter as one? All these thoughts are real, yet none of them affect the artist, or the picture by way of material modification. Are we to make one material object of the picture and all the thoughts about it-with their various accuracies and inaccuracies?

“Consider how the human mind works. It can think of itself and it can also t hink of anything else in nature; it draws “universal ideas” from the world of matter, and thereby attains to knowledge of the world of reality and the laws that govern it. It can devise signs to preserve the records of the past: it can throw itself ahead to contemplate future possibilities. It can deal in forms which could never materialise-mental abstractions, mathematical symbols, and so forth.”

THE CANDLE FLAME

Martin got up to throw a log on the fire, and then knocked out his pipe on the mantelpiece. He filled it, lit up and puffed reflectively a minute before sitting down again. “Well, John,” he said, “You’ve certainly carried the argument so far without indulging in anything like vague hopes or wishful thinking. But, even if the mind is immaterial, need we suppose it to be undying? After all, it is born with the body and lives with it, gathering sense impressions as the raw material for it to work upon. Isn’t it, in effect, “extinguished like a candle flame, when the candle is worn down?””

“Once again,” I replied, “you’re com paring the action of the mind with something material to which it has no real resemblance. A candle flame is exactly what we showed that the mind wasn’t-the effect of a chemical process, which can continue only as long as there are suitable materials to be consumed-or transformed.”

“Queer, isn’t it?” said Martin. “How liable even serious thinkers are to allow themselves to be deceived by false symbols in this particular question? My mind seems to be filled with romantic symbols of despair-the dying lamp, the fading flower, and so on. I think it’s Sir Arthur Keith who uses the candle flame metaphor to describe death, isn’t it?”

A QUESTION OF IDENTITY

“He wasn’t being very scientific about it, then,” I said. “Well-so far we’ve seen that the mind enables us, so to speak, to stand outside ourselves as spectators. Now I want you to look at this faculty a bit more closely. I think of myself, and I throw myself back into the past. I remember how I used to play alone in the spare-room at home, the first lessons I had from my mother: country holidays and school life as a boy: the friendships and troubles of adolescence: my life at Cambridge-sunny afternoons. in the “Backs”; the entrance of Christ’s College: my army days and difficulties; my return to Australia after the first World War-life in Melbourne and in the country, past happy days in your company, Martin. I go into my room and turn over some old photographs-a family group: a boy in a sailor suit-that’s me, John Claverhouse. Again, a dishevelled looking youth with glasses and untidy hair-me again. . . .”

I stopped to pour out another sherry, and took a cigarette. Martin was silent, looking at the fire.

“Well-what the devil is this, “Me?” I”ve changed my body-every cell of it-many times since the first “me” I remember, peeping over the table to look at a silver sphinx ornament on a fruit dish. My character has changed, too, and a lot of my opinions and tastes. But there’s something that hasn’t changed-a unity that has persisted through all this flow of physical changes and mental developments, linking them together. So, you see, I”m not just a “coagula”-a bundle of changing sensations and experiences. They dissolve, I remain the same.”

GROWTH AND DECAY

“Still, John, your mind does grow-and is liable to decay, if you live to be old, before the end.” “What do we mean by “growth” and “decay” when we talk of the mind?” I answered. “Again, we’re using terms derived from the material world. The child’s mind “grows” not because it becomes bigger like its body, but because it gathers understanding and knowledge of itself and the world, and learns how to express itself through the body, and the instrument it uses is improving all the time. On the contrary, the old person’s mind “decays” because the instruments it uses are no longer working so well. The brain’s fatigue weakens attention-the sense perceptions grow weaker, the association between events is confused, and sometimes strange phantasmagoria of the brain stampede the processes of thought. That’s what we mean by “thinking badly” . . . The thinking subject is either there, or not there; we can’t think of it growing or decaying in the sense that the body does. And-this is the point-it can’t die after the fashion of the body, either.”

“How do you make that out?” said Martin. His voice had fallen, and he had turned away to look at the fire. I knew he was thinking of Gerald-his splendid body, horribly charred, as it had been drawn out of the burning “plane.

HOW COULD THE SOUL DIE?

I resumed quietly. “The death of the body takes place when the material law of dissolution operates upon it. First, the physical organism no longer functions as a single entity; then it begins to fall apart and undergo transformation. Now this “breaking up” can’t happen to the mind, because there’s no material to be broken. We can’t suppose that it depends for its existence on the body, without making it a quality of the body or a “function of matter”-which, I think we agreed, leads us into absurdity. How, then, could it perish?”

“It could be annihilated, couldn’t it?”

“The first answer to that,” I said, “is that Nature does not know such a thing as “annihilation.” If you extinguish a candle flame, the elements composing it change their form, but they are still somewhere in the atmosphere. A burnt paper has become ash-a dead body enters, by degrees, into the substance of the earth, of plants, of other animal bodies as the time passes. The universe moves and changes-but nothing is utterly lost. What reason is there for making an exception of the human spirit? What could cause this “annihilation?” “

“God could do it-couldn’t He?”

“Theoretically, of course, He has the power to do so, but it is difficult to see what reason could lead Him to reverse the creative act in this particular case-and destroy mind after making it naturally immortal. If you have formed any clear idea of God-”the strength and stay of all creation,” and the ground of its ordered movement, irrational caprice of this kind will seem inconceivable in Him. And in any case, if you are a Theist, there are plenty of other reasons for believing in the immortality of the soul.”

CAN MINDS MERGE?

Martin was puffing at his pipe again, and looking at the fire with unseeing eyes. A burnt-out log fell apart with a small sound, and the flame flickered up, casting a shimmering red glow which made the shadows dance. He spoke again. “All right, John. Let’s admit that the immaterial spirit survives the body. If I recall rightly, even J. B. S. Haldane, infidel as he is, is inclined to think that that is not improbable. Only he seems to think that the mind will lose its limitations and be merged in an “infinite mind” or something of the sort, which he suspects to exist behind Nature. Have you any fault to find with that suggestion?”

“It reminds me of Sir Edwin Arnold’s rhapsody about the Buddhist Nirvana-”The dewdrop slips into the shining sea.” As a poetical image, of course, Arnold’s line is very charming-but it doesn’t add much to our knowledge of the soul’s destiny. We know that material drops can slip into a great ocean-but the merging of immaterial minds into a great mind is another question entirely.”

“What do you mean, exactly?”

“First of all-what do we mean by “mind”? You and I have used it, up till now, pretty freely to describe thinking persons-ourselves and others. We speak of our mind or our reason instead of the thinking self, just as we speak of our will when we mean the self which wills and chooses or the imagination when we mean the self that imagines. But we have no right to solidify these abstractions as though they could exist unattached of their own accord. There is no such thing as a mind which is not the mind of a person-the “thinking” can’t just rush off on its own like a genie out of a bottle. Still less can it combine with a multitude of other thinkings to form a composite “infinite mind.” All that’s just false imagery, which we derive from material things like the sea or clouds, which have parts. If the spiritual being that thinks is wiped out as a person, then his mind is wiped out. If the mind is undying by nature, then the thinking person is also undying.”

“But Christians, and all theists, believe in an Infinite Mind-”In whom we live and move and have our being,”” said

Martin.

“Certainly,” I answered, “and we believe in Infinite Wisdom, Will, Power, Truth, Goodness and Love-but all these attributes reside in the Infinite Being of a Personal God. All things live “within” in the sense of being held in existence by

His creative power-but not in the sense that their being or not being adds or subtracts anything from His reality. My thinking self, my mind, is God-created: it is not part of God. God does not grow, or change, with the growth and changing of the universe.”

“WHAT SORT OF AFTER LIFE?”

“All right,” said Martin. “I think you’ve disposed successfully of my do ubts about the survival of the soul-anyhow, I can see that you can find grounds for holding it which are solidly rational, and not just “wishful thinking” or traditional belief. But it’s pretty difficult, isn’t it, to conceive of the sort of life the disembodied soul can live? I know you used the image of the player and the piano-but we both have enough science to know that bonds which link soul and body are a lot more intimate than that.”

“You mean the soul isn’t just an angel living in a machine?” I said.

“That’s it,” he answered. “Man is a whole, a body-soul: and it looks to me as if the thinking soul, alone after death, might be in the situation that it is in when we’re asleep, and our physical communication system is closed down for the time being. Wasn’t it Mirabeau who had it inscribed on his tomb that “Death is an eternal sleep””?

“Sleep,” I said, “may be the image of death, as far as appearances go-but there seems to me no good reason for thinking that the situation of the soul which is no longer animating the body bears any resemblance to its situation when it is still animating a body which is “closed down” for an interval. I”11 grant you, however, that it’s pretty hard to imagine what the state of the separated spirit can be if we’re simply left to our natural human understanding. We can say, however, that as the spiritual self was the means of our knowing ourselves, it will continue to have that knowledge.

“As for the rest, whether it develops any new method of communication in its new bodiless condition, and what that method may be, is a matter of conjecture, if we are left without Divine Revelation. The pre-Christian world and the pagan world of today are united in believing in some sort of”survival,” but there’s precious little in some of their notions about the fate of human souls to suggest that their belief has “wishful thinking” back of it. Too often they are conceived as wandering, unhappy shadows, who hate and envy the living, and must be “appeased”: or as dwelling in tombs, or in a dark, cold world beneath the earth. The spaces of their immortality stretch out into an unending Limbo of frustration.”

“I know,” said Martin. “Do you remember the horrid blood-drinking ghosts in Virgil? And the ghastly world of Hela, in the Norse mythology? If that was all survival meant, I”d think that there was a lot to be said for Wells and the dust- cart!”

IS IMMORTALITY BORING?

“Still, I think you can say this,” I went on: “That even without Revelation we should suspect that the universal fate of immortal spirits couldn’t be this frustration. It makes their natural immortality meaningless if they’re just piled up alive into a sort of universal dustbin of lost souls, growing bigger and bigger and bigger. The idea isn’t only intolerable-I think it’s ridiculous.”

Martin got up to draw the curtains, since it was now quite dark. Then he threw another log on the fire, and stood watching it.

“I agree with you about that,” he said. “Whatever the fate Nature-or God, if you will-intends for immortal beings, it can’t be the same everlasting emptiness for all. But, you know, I think a lot of people refuse to consider the idea of im- mortality, because they think of it as some sort of unending repetition, which they are sure would bore them stiff, and be frustration, not fulfilment. If I remember, that’s Shaw’s position. He says that those who want to live for ever just don’t know what they’re talking about-such a life would be penitential, not by any means pleasing.”

““One crowded hour of glorious life” would be the thing, wouldn’t it?” I said: “if only the point of brief joy could somehow remain a point, and not be dragged out into a monotonous line?”

TIME AND ETERNITY

“Yes,” said Martin. “That’s the sort of thing. We want all that we love restored, fresh and untarnished, without the tears and weary monotony. We want our dreams to prove a foretaste of happy reality in eternity. Even if we are sure of survival-and I find your arguments for it pretty convincing, John-it’s not much without that.”

“Don’t ask too much of unaided natural reason, Martin,” I replied. “We’re get ting to the point at which we need the help of a Divine message to amplify the vague “intimations” about immortality that we find in our own lives and in the lives of others. We know enough, however, to know that time is the enemy in our best experiences. It “flies” when we are gloriously happy in love or busy with interesting work or fascinating recreation. It “drags” when we are tired and sleepless, or in a treadmill of hateful drudgery. From this experience, we may perhaps get an inkling of the existence of two sorts of immortality-one an endless succession of weary, flat, repetitions: the other a sort of vertical timeless leaping upward from joyto joy. The last is the true fulfilment of the soul’s life-the other, its frustration.

“There are mystics- of my own faith and others-who have had experiences which confirm this conclusion- moments in which it seemed to them that time and eternity closed up, and the soul leapt into its proper domain. You remember St. Augustine and St. Monica at Ostia, in the “Confessions”?”

“It’s years since I opened it, I”m afraid.”

“I was reading it the other day,” I said. “Let’s see-I wonder if I can remember the passage.”The very highest delight”-yes, that’s it-”The very highest delight of the earthly senses, in the very purest material light, was in respect to the sweetness of that life not only not worthy of comparison, but not even of mention . . . and . . . let me see, “and we came to our own minds and went beyond them, that we might arrive at that region of never-failing plenty, where Thou feedest Israel for ever with the food of truth. . . .”“

THE DESIRE OF LIFE

Martin said nothing: but I saw his face soften and lighten in the glow of the fire. We were silent for a little: then he stirred and spoke again. “I was just reflecting,” he said, “about how a bogey-word like “wishful thinking” can oppress a man when he’s wretched.”

“I wanted to get round again to that same “wishful thinking,” Martin,” I said. “I tried to show you that belief in im- mortal life had a good bit more behind it than human desire: whether Mr. Shaw likes it or not, I”m afraid he’s “stuck with it” in view of the nature of the thinking self. But I don’t think we ought to be too contemptuous of the folk who argue from desire to a life after death.”

“You mean that you have to account for the desire itself- the thirst for more life . . . the reaching out for those who have gone from us?” He sighed . . .

“That’s it,” I replied. “Do you remember the way Nietzsche inveighs, in “Zarathustra,” against the people he calls “Backworldsmen”? The-the chaps who will try to stick their heads out of the universe in quest of a life beyond? He attacked their obsession-buthe never explained it. . And you know, it’s pretty deeply ingrained, even in the habit of thought of people who wouldn’t admit to religious belief. You hear old people worrying about the future prospects of the world-as though fifty or a hundred years hence would be as real to them as the present time. Unconsciously, they project their life beyond the span allotted to them-thinking of themselves as still concerned in the fate of their descendants. Others trouble about their reputation after death . . . they burn letters which might lead men to think ill of them; they hope their writings or deeds will live in memory; they even compose their epitaphs! The desire for enduring fame speaks of “immortal longings” despite all their denials.”

“But not all desires are fulfilled by Nature,” said Martin.

“That’s true, of course,” I answered. “Men-and animals, too-often desire things they don’t find. But no animals desire things that aren’t to be found anywhere: and man, considered as an animal, has no physical desires which can’t be satisfied. Why should we hold that only his highest aspirations as an Immaterial, Thinking Self are not merely sometimes unreached, but for ever unreachable?”

IS BELIEF IN THE AFTERLIFE “ANTI-SOCIAL”?

“I think there’s one more point,” said Martin. “I want to throw at your head one last objection-the favourite Communist one that belief in a future life of happiness is anti-social, because it makes men neglect their earthly business and remain patient under earthly injustice, ugliness and misery.”

“The answer to that one, I should say, is-”look around.” We live in an age when religious belief is at a low ebb, and the business of the world is generally run with the tacit assumption that it belongs to man, and not to God, and that nothing is important but earthly wellbeing. The fruits of this doctrine are various, but they all stink. The godless “liberal” bourgeois, first of all, produces a city of avarice: when it begins to become fetid-he can only think of another one built on the same plan. He disestablishes religion, gives freedom to every sort of anti-social theory, and wonders that Hitlers grow up . . . then, after fighting against them, proceeds to foster a secularist education which breeds more Hitlers. The “planners”-Nazi, Communist and seculardemocratic, all move along lines of “social progress” at the end of which lies the “mass-man”- products of “planned” breeding, cog in an industrial machine, spiritually fed with “strength through joy” and physical culture, emotionally satisfied by massentertainment, “conditioned” by education not only to submit to social regimentation, but to accept it as the new sort of freedom and well-being. Our new cities are hideous monstrosities, even when they are well-aired and well-drained: our art and music reflect sensuality, perversion, madness and chaos.

HEAVENLY AND EARTHLY CITIES

Martin was grinning. “I gather, John,” he said, “that you don’t think much of our modern times.” “I don’t think, at least,” I said, “that the age of the Gestapo, the N.K.V.D., the atomic bomb, the child-gangster . . .” “And all the rest-”

“ . . . has a right to criticise the beliefs of those who created all the great civilisations of the past. The ideas of justice and humanity which we inherit, the sense of human dignity and freedom which is at the basis of the democratic ideal, the charity towards the poor, the sick, the defective which has reared countless hospitals and works of mercy-all these owe their original impulse to men who held that man is an immortal being. And-if we turn to the beauty of life-well, I ask you if the men who built the Parthenon, Chartres, the Taj Mahal were “anti-social” when they made things of loveliness which remain a joy from generation to generation?

“ No-it is those who have had their eyes on the design of the heavenly city who have known how to bring something of it down to earth. The muckraking society of today is perishing of the effluvia from its own offal.”

““Hear, hear,” says the man below the soapbox.” Martin’s grin was broader than ever.

“All right, I”m off it now,” I answered. “But I”11 say this-a society which believes that human life is restricted to the short span of man’s time on earth is going to be a jerry-building society, with low aims and ideals, a society whose members will occupy themselves with trivial momentary enjoyment, and shrink from serious thinking and serious sacrifice. They will prefer “social well-being” in the form of goods and enjoyments, to freedom and personal dignity. The sharing out of goods will cause unending envy and hatred and quarrelling: the ears of the world’s fortunate will be more and more stopped to the crisis of its victims.”

THE FLAME OF HOPE

“Well,” said Martin, “I think we’ve gone about as far as we can in this discussion for the present; and you’ve cleared up my mind a lot about how far natural reason and human speculation can carry us in the question of human immortality. It’s been a real comfort to me, John, in a pretty bad hour . . . and at the end, if I haven’t quite your certainties, I find I”m at least full of hope that . . . Gerald is safe in God’s hand . . . and that he is not lost for ever to me. As you’re staying on, we may be able to go on further in another talk-and pass from “intimations of immortality” to your Christian faith about the future life.”

“Out of shadows and images to the truth” I said: and as I filled my glass for a last drink, I murmured a prayer for the brave soul of Gerald Lowe. . . .”Eternal rest give to him, O Lord. . . .”

Nihil obstat:

P. JONES

Censor Deputatus

Imprimatur:

@ D. MANNIX

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis

********

Do You Know The Church?

INDEX

THOU ART PETER, AND UPON THIS ROCK I WILL BUILD MY CHURCH, AND THE GATES OF HELL SHALL NOT PREVAIL AGAINST IT‖ (MATT. XVI. 18)

I AM THE WAY, THE TRUTH, AND THE LIFE. NO MAN COMETH TO THE FATHER BUT BY ME.‖ (JOHN XIV. 6)

INTRODUCTION

THE Catholic Church stands forth today, as she has in every period of her existence, as the Rock upon which all heresies and schisms are wrecked, as the Rock which has always withstood every kind of persecution, and will always continue to do so, even to the end of the world, according to the promise of her Divine Founder, Jesus Christ, that ―the gates of hell shall not prevail against her.‖

At no time since the foundation of the Church has her history been more replete with wonderful events than at the present. The age in which we live is one of exceptional interest. In some countries the Church is passing through an ordeal which, if her origin were not Divine, would end in her total annihilation. But the persecution she is now suffering in European countries, instead of diminishing her strength will only increase it; and the wounds inflicted by her enemies, instead of proving fatal, will not even disfigure her, but will only serve to render her more beautiful and glorious.

Moreover, while religion is being assailed in different countries, the world itself is undergoing a change in the social and economic order. Where will it all end? No one can tell. Will there be a social upheaval, accompanied by a general destruction of churches, and confiscation of church property, even as in Soviet Russia today? No one knows. But even should that come to pass, deplorable as it would be, even that would be only a passing disturbance. The Gospel of Jesus Christ and the Church He founded will endure, according to His promise, ―The gates of hell shall not prevail against it‖ (Matt. xvi. 18). Governments may change and do change, kingdoms fall, old traditions are swept away, the social order may be reconstructed, but the Church of Jesus Christ remains forever, unchanged and unchangeable. Her doctrines, her means of sanctification are from God, and like unto God Himself, imperishable. Her origin is Divine and the ―gates of hell shall not prevail against her.‖

Unlike the founders of the empires of this world, unlike the Alexanders, Caesars, and Napoleons, whose empires crumbled at their death, Jesus Christ, the Divine Founder of the Catholic Church, still lives and reigns in her! In her are verified those sublime words of St. Paul, ―Jesus Christ is the same, yesterday and today, yes, and forever‖ (Heb. xiii. 8). In vain have the rulers of this world assailed and persecuted the Church of Christ for nineteen hundred years. The blood of the countless multitudes of her martyred children has been, through the centuries, the fruitful seed which propagated the Faith of Jesus Christ.

The Catholic Church is a Divine institution, and the only one which will always fulfil and verify the words of Christ, ―The gates of hell shall not prevail against it‖ (Matt. xvi. 18).

JESUS CHRIST, REDEEMER OF MAN AND FOUNDER OF THE CHURCH

THE central, the greatest event in the history of mankind, is the birth of Jesus Christ, the Son of God, and the redemption of the world by His Passion and Death on the Cross. This is the central fact round which all the other facts of history are grouped and without which most of them would be meaningless and inexplicable. From this outstanding event even time is reckoned- before or after Christ (B.C., A.D.).

The prophets of the Old Testament foretold the coming of the Redeemer and the establishment of His Church. Even Protestantism does not dispute the fact of this Divine revelation. Jesus Christ, the Son of God, came from heaven to teach and save all mankind. On this point all Christians are agreed.

THE CHURCH IN PROMISE

The religion which Jesus Christ taught, and which the Catholic Church teaches today, did not appear just a few centuries ago. Properly speaking, it dates back to the creation of man. Its first seeds were planted in Paradise when God promised a Redeemer to our first parents after their fall; and the whole of the Old Law, with its sacrifices and wonderful events was but a figure of the New Law which contains the fulfilment and accomplishment of the Old. The Old Law believed in a Redeemer to come, and the New believes in Him as already come. But it is the same belief in the same Redeemer. Wherefore the Jewish religion was the only religion of the true God, until it was superseded by the Church of Jesus Christ. At the death of Christ it ceased to be the true religion, because it was only the promise and figure of what was to come. God had ordained the Old Testament worship of the Jewish synagogue as a prelude to the establishment of the kingdom of Christ on earth which was to be its fulfilment. When, by the Death of Christ, the Redemption was accomplished and His Church established, the promise and figure gave place to the reality. The patriarchs and prophets of the Old Law and the saints of the New- the just on both sides of Calvary,- constitute one glorious kingdom, the Church of the living God.

Though the temple worship, with its ceremonial laws was abolished when the temple of Jerusalem ceased to be the House of God, the ten commandments and the moral code of the Jewish covenant were not abolished, for Christ came, as He Himself declared, ―not to destroy but to fulfil‖ (Matt. v. 17). Christ came not to destroy those laws but to perfect them.

While the true religion is thus coeval with the creation of man, yet its beginnings are not lost in obscurity. On the contrary, its truth is evident and obvious to all. For it exhibits from the remotest times even down to the present, an uninterrupted series of public and universally known facts and events, which agree perfectly with one another and with all the monuments of past ages. They have been so often and so indisputably proved, that he who would not believe them might just as well deny any other fact of authentic history. We count the generations as they succeeded one another from Adam to Christ (Luke iii; Matt. i) and all the Supreme Pastors or Popes from St. Peter to our present Holy Father, Pius XII, now gloriously governing the Church established by Jesus Christ. What a wonderful chain of events! What an unparalleled succession!

Even the Jews, the most relentless opponents of the Church of Christ, bear witness to its truth. For they carefully keep on record in their Holy Books the whole history and all the prophecies of the Old Testament to which we appeal in order to prove the Divine origin of Christianity; so that no one can suppose that Christians have perverted or invented such passages of the Old Testament as refer to Christ.

With the destruction of Jehovah’s tem ple, the divinely ordained worship of the Old Law ceased forever, to make room for the New Law of which it had been the type. Since that time, Israel, exiled from the Land of Promise, its priesthood extinguished, and its sacrifices at an end, as Malachy foretold, has lived dispersed among the nations of the earth. But Divine Providence keeps it in existence, an unwilling witness to the revelations, prophecies and judgments of God, until shortly before the end of the world, when God in His mercy will lead back His repentant people to the Faith.

THE PROMISED ONE

―When the fulness of the time came, God sent His Son,born of a woman, born under the law‖ (Gal. iv. 4). God fulfilled His promise and the prophecies about the Redeemer to come, when He sent his only-begotten Son, Jesus Christ, who was conceived by the Holy Ghost, and born of the Virgin Mary in a stable at Bethlehem, nineteen hundred years ago. (This event occurred about the year 4 B. C. according to our present method of reckoning time. Denys the Little, in the sixth century, began the custom of dating history from the birth of Christ. But he thought that Christ was born in the year 754 A.U.C. (from the building of Rome) and so he made that the year 1 of the Christian era. Later researches have placed the birth of Christ several years earlier, so that Christ was really about four years old in what we call the year, 1.)

For thirty years Christ lived in seclusion and prayer, preparing Himself for His Divine mission. Then He was baptized by John the Baptist (Matt. iii. 13), and entered upon His public life, during which He selected His Apostles, taught His Divine doctrine, established His Church, and finally, accomplished the redemption of mankind by His Passion and Death on the Cross.

Christ proved that He was really man by dying on the Cross. Jesus Christ claimed to be God, equal to the Father in all things. He was not content with mere declarations; He established His claim by undeniable proof. He changed water into wine (John ii), calmed the waves and the winds (Matt. viii), fed five thousand people with five loaves and two fishes (Matt. xiv), healed the sick of all kinds of diseases (Matt. xv), cast out devils (Matt. viii), and called the dead back to life (John xi). As a climax He Himself rose from the dead after three days in the tomb. The resurrection of Christ is the most glorious event of His life, the most conclusive proof of His Divinity, and the foundation of our faith. ―If Christ has not risen, vain then is our preaching, vain too is your faith‖ (1 Cor. xv. 14).

Christ remained on earth forty days after His resurrection to show that He was truly risen from the dead, to instruct His Apostles, and to confer upon them His final and official commission. Then He gloriously ascended into heaven from Mount Olivet, in the presence of His Apostles and disciples, to whom He promised to send the Holy Ghost (Acts i. 5, 8).

Knowing, then, that Christ is truly God, we simply ask ourselves whether He really founded a church, and which one it is.

From all history, both sacred and profane, as well as from the Bible considered merely as an historical document, we learn that Christ established a church, which is called after Him the Church of Christ, or the Christian Church. This, the establishment of His Church, was part of His Divine plan in order to insure to the whole world and to perpetuate to all time the fruits of His redemption. The Church, therefore, is the continuation of the life and work of our Divine Lord Himself. It is His permanent, visible presence in the world today; it is the continuous verificationof His words ―The gates of hell shall not prevail.‖

It is all-important, therefore, that we should know which is the one, true church- for there can be only one- ―Upon this rock I will build My Church,‖ said Christ, not churches. If once we admit that the Catholic Church is that one, true Church established by Christ to teach men infallibly the way to heaven, and that He has commanded all men to belong to it, our way is clear. But if we do not know which is the true Church, we shall have no guide as to what we must believe and do, in order to secure the eternal salvation of our immortal souls.

The invisible Son of God came into the world in a visible, human form, a Divine Person who took to Himself a true and tangible human nature. And during His life upon earth, we find that one of His chief concerns was the formation of a visible society to perpetuate His work. This society is His Church, and like unto Him, it is a visible organization, a societ y of which He Himself would ever remain the invisible Head and life.

One of the first things Jesus Christ did when He began His public ministry, as all four evangelists tell us, was to select a body of men, to form as it were, an Apostolic College and to instruct these men in all knowledge and prepare them for their sacred ministry. Christ taught a body of religious truths and precepts to these His chosen Apostles, trained them, and corn. manded them to go and preach His doe. trine to all nations. He gave His Apostles power to teach and baptize (Matt. xxviii. 19; Mark xvi. 15, 16); to offer sacrifice (Luke xxii. 19, 20; 1 Cor. xi. 23–25); to forgive sins (John xx. 23; Matt. xvi. 19; 2 Cor: v. 18); and to rule the Church (Matt. xviii. 17, 18; Acts xx. 28); and to one of them, Peter, He gave the primacy (Matt. xvi. 17–19; John xxi. 16–17). He sent them forth to teach all nations, promised salvation to all who would believe what they taught and threatened with damnation those who refused to believe their teaching (Mark xvi. 16). Finally, He promised to be with His Church to the end of time. ―And behold, I am with you all days, even unto the consummation of the world‖ (Matt. xxviii. 20).

THE THREEFOLD OFFICE OF CHRIST

Hence, Christ delegated His own threefold office and character, namely His teaching office, His priesthood, and His pastoral authority, to a number of chosen men, in union with whom He continues to act as Teacher, Priest, and Pastor to the end of the world.

It was in this threefold character that Christ effected our salvation. He redeemed us as teacher, as priest, and as pastor; as teacher by preaching heavenly wisdom; as priest by the atoning sacrifice of the Cross; and as pastor by enacting laws and commandments. As teacher, He rescued us from spiritual blindness by giving us the light and truth of Divine revelation; as Divine-human priest, He redeemed us from sin by offering Himself in sacrifice on Mount Calvary; as Godman pastor, He saved us by His doctrine and precepts from the folly and wickedness of the world.

CHRIST STILL OUR TEACHER

This triple office, as said before, He solemnly committed to His chosen Apostles shortly before His departure from earth, as is plainly proved by Holy Scripture. The Divine Teacher sent these His Apostles forth to preach to all nations, to teach all truth as He had imparted it to them, and to teach it with the same authority and infallible certainty as He Himself had taught it. ―He who hears you hears Me; and he who rejects you, rejects Me; and he who rejects Me, rejects Him who sent Me‖ (Luke x. 16).

CHRIST STILL OUR PRIEST

Our Divine High Priest, on the eve of His Passion, instituted and offered up, in a mysterious manner, and by anticipation, the saving sacrifice of the Cross, saying, ―This is My Body, which is being given for you; this cup is the new covenantin My Blood, which shall he shed for you.‖ He committed to the hands of His Apostles for all time, this holy sacrifice of His Body and Blood, saying, ―Do this,‖ which I have just done, ―in remembrance of Me.‖ He gave the Apostles power to consecrate, forgive sins, and bless, in a word so to dispense graces in His Name, that these same Apostles were able to say later of themselves with all truth, and with full conviction of their own power and dignity, ―Let a man so account us as servants of Christ and stewards of the mysteries of God‖ (1 Cor. iv. 1).

CHRIST STILL OUR PASTOR

Finally, our Divine High Priest and Pastor transmitted His spiritual prerogatives and authority to His Apostles with the words, ―All power in heaven and on earth has been given to Me‖ (Matt. xxviii. 18). ―As the Father has sent Me, I also send you‖ (John xx. 22). It was in virtue of this charge that the Apostles prescribed for all nations to which they preached, all those laws and regulations, and established all such institutions as they deemed necessary for the spiritual welfare, (these laws and ordinances of the Apostles ad their successors relate to things spiritual, and not to civil affairs or civic regulations. If, therefore, the management of political affairs has sometimes been in the hands of ecclesiastics, it was in consequence of Divine Providence, and because of the confidence which Catholic princes and peoples placed in their clergy) or conducive to the eternal salvation of men.

From all this we see clearly that although Christ has returned to heaven, He has not abandoned His Church but has been pleased to remain mystically with her, carrying on, through His Apostles as His chosen instruments, His threefold Teaching, Priestly and Pastoral office to the end of time. In union with St. Peter, their visible head, the Apostles were to traverse the earth preaching, dispensing grace, ordaining and becoming ―fishers of men,‖ in order to bring all men to share in the benefits of truth, grace and salvation through Christ. They were to unite them to Jesus Himself in oneness of life, and to join them together into one great and glorious mystical body, of which Christ Himself is the invisible Head.

Such was the duty imposed by Christ on His Apostles. But the Apostles were mortal and died, one after another, during the first century of Christianity, while the threefold office of teacher, priest and pastor committed to them by Christ should endure to the end of time. Hence, it is clear that when the Divine Founder of the Church imparted this threefold power to His Apostles in order to perpetuate His work and His Church, He meant not only the twelve standing then and there in His presence. His Divine gaze extended to all their lawful successors in the hierarchy, the popes, bishops and priests to the end of the world, as if they all stood in His presence when He spoke. In this sense it was that He said to them all, ―Behold, I am with you all days, even unto the consummation of the world‖ (Matt. xxviii. 20).

The Apostles, therefore, and their lawful successors, are the persons to whom Christ entrusted the duty of forming in His Name, among all nations, and in all ages, a spiritual society; or rather, of extending and strengthening the original society established by Himself.

This spiritual society, consisting originally of the Apostles, disciples, and a few devout believers, became, like the mustard seed of the parable, a great tree, whose branches are spread over the whole earth. And this is the universal, the Catholic Church, in which Christ perpetuates forever His work of salvation, and applies to each individual soul, His truth, His saving grace, His redeeming sacrifice, all His merits as God-man, from His birth to His death,—these are the glorious treasures of this society, the riches in which each member, who has been duly admitted by baptism has a right to participate.

If the Church were only an association of persons holding the same tenets, and differing in no way from any other human society, it would not be the mystical body of Christians united to Christ. But the ―Church‖ embraces not only the visible body, that is, the laity of all nations with their ecclesiastical superiors, but also the invisible spirit and life; namely, Jesus Christ, her invisible Head, with all His merits and the merits of all His saints; the treasures of truth and grace and holiness, as well as supernatural guidance. It thus becomes a sublime mystery of faith; hence the Christian can truthfully say, ―I believe in one, holy, Catholic Church.‖

THE CHURCH, A SOCIETY BOTH HUMAN AND DIVINE

As Jesus Christ is true God and true man, a person both human and Divine, so likewise this His Church is a society both human and Divine. For the Church is an institution consisting of men, but possessing the abiding presence of Jesus Christ and the continual assistance of the Holy Ghost. The Divine element appears in her indestructible existence throughout all ages; in her unchanging and infallible teaching of Divine truth; in her uninterrupted dispensation of God’s grace, by which innumerable souls attain holiness; and in the countless miracles marking her career throughout the world.

The human element in the Church is continually thwarting the Divine, and yet the omnipotence of God is continually making use of the same human element in helping the Church to accomplish her Divine destiny.

The human element of the Church appears in the weaknesses and shortcomings of many of her children, especially in the scandals and sins committed by her unworthy members. Christ foretold that scandals would come and He tolerated Judas among His Apostles as an example and a warning. But even this will not prevent the Church from accomplishing her Divine mission. In spite of sin and scandal, in spite of the law of death and decay overruling all things human, the Church continues forever in her constitution and in her sacred ministry of grace and truth. This is another proof of the Divine element within her. According to His promise, Christ is always with His Church, teaches, gives grace and rules through her; and she shares with Him the hatred of hell and the opposition and persecution of the world, but she is also destined to share His eternal glory in heaven.

Now, as Jesus Christ lives in His Church, we would naturally expect the life of the Church to reproduce or reflect the life of Jesus Christ Himself. And such, indeed, it does. The life of our Divine Redeemer on earth was one of continued struggle and suffering. The same is true of His Church, and herein lies a powerful and undeniable proof that she is His—the one and only true Church. And just as Christ, in the midst of opposition, persecution and suffering, constantly manifested His glorious Divinity, completed His work, and triumphed over death and hell, so does the Church exhibit to us, in the midst of persecution, conflict and martyrdom, the triumph of truth and grace over the powers of earth and hell.

Let us now see how the Apostles carried out their Divine commission. After Jesus had ascended into heaven, Peter and his companions returned to Jerusalem, meditating on the last words of Jesus, ―But you shall receive power when the Holy Spirit comes upon you, and you shall be witnesses for Me in Jerusalem and in all Judea and Samaria and even to the very ends of the earth‖ (Acts i. 8). That they, poor men, destitute of learning, science, money, and influence, should preach the Gospel to the whole world, and offer to the veneration of the Jews and pagans the Cross on which their Master had lately breathed His last, surely seemed a most impossible task- so much the more, as the powers of the world would not spare the disciples any more than they had spared their Divine Master. But they trusted in Jesus and in the Holy Spirit, who was, as He promised, to teach them all things. And Jesus would never abandon His envoys; He would transform them into His other self by endowing them with the Holy Spirit, ―not many days hence‖ (Acts i. 5). Wherefore, they retired to the Supper Room to prepare themselves by seclusion and prayer whilst awaiting the coming of the Holy Spirit.

THE CHURCH REVEALED

The great day of Pentecost dawned, on which the Israelites celebrated the promulgation of the law on Mount Sinai. Multitudes of Jews from every region filled the Holy City. Jesus chose that day to reveal His Church to the nations of the earth and to inaugurate the New Law.

The Apostles and disciples, assembled i n the Supper Room as commanded by Christ, ―with one mind continued steadfast in prayer with the women and Mary, the Mother of Jesus‖ (Acts i. 14). Suddenly there came a sound from heaven as of a violent wind coming and it filled the whole house; and parted tongues as of fire, settled upon each of them. All were filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in foreign tongues (Acts ii. 1–4). The Apostles were instantaneously transformed and made new men. Filled with celestial strength and inflamed with Divine fire, they proclaimed the greatness of God, and the Divinity of Jesus Christ. Soon they were surrounded by a great multitude, who listened to them in amazement. Peter, the chief of the Apostles, addressed them with such supernatural and convincing power that three thousand were converted. This number was increased soon after by the addition of five thousand more, when St. Peter healed the lame man at the Temple gate called the Beautiful. Not only Peter, but all the Apostles preached the resurrection of Christ with great power, and did many signs and wonders among the people.

But the high priest and their adherents, seeing all this, were filled with rage and envy. They had the Apostles seized, cast into prison, dragged before their chief council, and would have put them to death had not Gamaliel, a pharisee and doctor of the law, greatly revered for his virtue and learning, counselled moderation. ―If this plan or work is of men,‖ said he, ―it will be overthrown; but if it is of God, you will not be able to overthrow it. Else perhaps you may find yourselves fighting even against God‖ (Acts. v. 38, 39). The authority of Gamaliel was so outstanding that his advice was followed. Nevertheless, to satisfy their revenge, the Jews condemned the Apostles to be scourged, and then commanded them to cease preaching. ―So they departed from the presence of the Sanhedrin, rejoicing that they had been accounted worthy to suffer disgrace for the Name of Jesus. And they did not for a single day cease teaching and preaching in the temple and from house to house the good news of Jesus as the Christ‖ (Acts v. 41, 42). The number of those who presented themselves for baptism increased exceedingly every day, for no earthly power was able to prevent the spread of the doctrine of Jesus Christ.

The Crucified One had triumphed ! In a few days thousands had been enrolled under His standard. Jerusalem seemed fast becoming the center of His kingdom, and who could tell where the new conquerors would stop? The Jews saw clearly that the work was Divine; but contrary to Gamaliel’s wise counsel, they resolved not only to check its progress, but even to annihilate it completely by putting the Apostles to death even as they had done their Divine Master. But they were about to learn at their own expense what becomes of a nation combating against God.- Its destruction is inevitable!

As almighty God turned the deicide of the Jews to the salvation of the world, and the impenitence of the same Jews to the conversion of the heathen; so does He daily make use of the design of the wicked to glorify His Church.

The new converts in Jerusalem and its vicinity formed the first Christian community called the Church. The Apostles presided over this Church as Christ had ordained. The whole book of the Acts of the Apostles, and all their Epistles, bear witness that they not only preached and baptized and administered the other sacraments, but also ruled their communities in every way. They made regulations and laws; they threatened, judged, and punished. The number of believers grew daily and the Church spread rapidly over Judea, Samaria, and Galilee, and into the surrounding countries,- and that even in spite of the bitter opposition of the Jews which soon broke out in open persecution.

The stubbornness and persecution of the Jews, and still more the express command of Jesus, Go, teach all nations, had early determined the Apostles to turn their attention to the Gentile world.

St. Peter, the Prince of the Apostles, besides being the first to establish the Church of Christ among the Jews, had also the privilege of founding the first Christian congregation among the Gentiles. Enlightened by God in the three visions of unclean animals (Acts x), Peter went and preached before the Roman centurion Cornelius and his household, concerning the death and resurrection of Christ. The Holy Spirit came down upon all those who were listening to the Apostle’s inspired words and they were converted and baptized. Thus he, to whom the keys of the kingdom of heaven had been given, was the first to open the doors of God’s kingdom on earth, not only to the children of Israel, but also to the Gentiles.

Inseparably associated with the glorious name of Peter is the illustrious name of Paul. Known as Saul of Tarsus, he was a young pharisee of fanatical zeal, the most furious enemy and rabid persecutor of the Christians. This man of wonderful mind and indomitable energy, struck by the grace of God and miraculously converted, became a ―vessel of election‖ and the great Apostle of the Gentiles (Acts ix). Thus did Jesus baffle the Jews by taking their best soldiers to make them His best officers. With what astonishment and anger they looked upon this once bigoted pharisee and bitter foe of Christianity as he went into their synagogues and with superhuman eloquence preached that the crucified Nazarene was truly the Messiah!

ROME BECOMES THE CENTER OF CHRISTIANITY

The Jews had rejected Jesus. They also rejected His apostolic chief and vicar. Wherefore, displacing the religious center of the world, St. Peter left Jerusalem, the cradle of Christianity. Soon after we find him presiding over a large congregation at Antioch, where the followers of Christ were first called Christians. In the year 44 he arrived in imperial Rome, the city of the Caesars, destined by God to be the city of the Popes. Here he established his See and ruled the Church of Christ for twenty-five years; here, together with Saint Paul, he suffered a glorious martyrdom under Nero in the year 67. Sanctified by the blood of the twin Apostles, Rome has ever since been the capital of the Christian world.

Persecuted Christianity spread everywhere with unheard-of rapidity. On leaving Jerusalem the Apostles dispersed to the different countries of the world, preaching Christ’s doctrine, baptizing the believers, laying down precepts to be ob- served, organizing local bodies of the faithful, and finally, with prayer and the imposition of hands, ordaining priests and bishops to instruct and govern the new congregations. Thus, in the prominent cities of the Roman empire we find Christian communities over which the Apostles placed their disciples as bishops; and from these centers the Christian religion was spread in every direction. For example, Saint Paul appointed his disciple Titus bishop of the island of Crete, and instructed him to ordain and send bishops to other districts; Saint Peter sent his disciple Saint Mark to Alexandria, whence Christianity spread over all Egypt; Saint John ordained Saint Polycarp bishop of Smyrna, and Saint Ignatius bishop of Antioch.

The labors of the Apostles collectively are thus br iefly summed up in the words of St. Mark, ―They went forth and preached everywhere, while the Lord worked with them and confirmed the preaching by the signs that followed‖ (Mark xvi. 20).

Here, then, we have authentic facts of history. In the light of them let us briefly consider the position of those who hold that the Bible and the Bible alone, is the sole and only rule of faith.

THE BIBLE NOT THE ONLY RULE OF FAITH

We see the Church founded by Jesus Christ a well organized society, in full operation, laboring for the salvation of mankind and converting the nations of the world, as Christ had commanded His Apostles, by teaching and preaching, and not by writing and distributing Bibles. Christ Himself never wrote a line of Holy Scripture, but He did go up and down the hills and dales of Palestine, teaching and preaching the kingdom of God. And very evidently He intended His Gospel to be propagated by the living voice of His Apostles and disciples, otherwise the art of printing would have been of greater assistance than the gift of tongues!

He did not command them to write, but He did say, ―Go teach,‖ ―Go preach‖—not a word about writing! Of the twelve Apostles, the seventy-two disciples, and early followers of Our Lord, only eight have left us any of their sacred writings. Mark well, their Divine commission was to teach and preach the Gospel to the whole world (Matt. xxviii. 19; Mark xvi. 15). And we find them acting in strict accord with their instructions.

As a matter of fact, the Church of Christ had been evangelizing the world for about ten years, St. Stephen (+ 36) and St. James the Greater (+ 44) had been martyred, and the persecution of the Jews had passed, before the Apostles began to write. The Gospel of St. Matthew, the first part of the New Testament ever written, was not compiled till between the years 42 and 50; that of St. John, about the year 96, or near the close of the first century. All the other books of the New Testament were written in the intervening time. Hence the Church came first, not the Bible, and there is not the slightest evidence to show the substitution, in later times, of a lifeless book for the living voice of Christ’s teaching Church.

ORIGIN OF THE BIBLE AND TRADITION

During the space of three years Jesus preached His saving doctrines of salvation in the cities, towns and hamlets of Judea. Although great crowds heard His voice, the Apostles and disciples were the most favored witnesses of the truth and sanctity of His heavenly doctrine. These He instructed more fully and apart from the multitudes, in all the mysteries of the kingdom of God. Much of what He taught was afterwards written by the Apostles and Evangelists, and carefully preserved in the Church as Holy Scripture. Much, too, was handed down merely by word of mouth, and formed what is known as Tradition. In the course of time this was gradually committed to writing by the early Fathers of the Church.

Not only did the Church exist before the New Testament, she is truly the very mother of the New Testament, because it was written by that same teaching body which Christ had divinely commissioned to establish and perpetuate His Church. The Church, then, is earlier in point of time as well as mother of the New Testament. Had there been no Church there would have been no New Testament.

When, under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit, the Apostles did write, it was only to confirm and supplement their teaching; never was there the slightest evidence that Christianity was to rest solely on a Bible foundation. Their Gospels and Epistles were written on the occasion of some emergency, and were addressed to particular persons or churches and never intended to take the place of that Divine and infallible teaching authority established by Christ; but only to explain or supplement some doctrine already preached. They do not contain all that Jesus did, much less all that He taught (John xx. 30; xxi. 25).

There is nowhere in the New Testament a clear, methodical statement of all the teachings of Christ. It was never meant to be such. Neither does the Bible set forth any formulary of belief, as a creed or catechism. For the Bible alone does not contain all the truths a Christian is bound to believe, nor does it explicitly command all the duties he is obliged to practice. Hence it cannot be the sole and only rule of faith. If it were, the Bible itself should record it somewhere, but there is not a single line in the Old or New Testament that declares any such principle. On the contrary, St. Paul says that ―faith depends‖ not on reading but ―on hearing‖ (Rom. x. 17). But the Bible and Tradition, both infallibly interpreted by the Church, are the right rule of faith.

Christ bade His Apostles teach men ―to observe all that I have commanded you‖ (Matt. xxviii. 20). And St. Paul, writingto the Thessalonians, bids them, ―hold the teachings that you have learned, whether by word or by letter of ours‖ (2 Thess. ii. 14). And again to Timothy, he writes, ―The things that thou hast heard from me through many witnesses, commend to trustworthy men who shall be competent in turn to teach others‖ (2 Tim. ii. 2). These passages point plainly enough to a Tradition, or a handing down by word of mouth of doctrines taught by Christ and His Apostles. Thus the Church and Tradition both existed before the New Testament as such.

Now, however, all or nearly all the truths of Tradition have been recorded in written books. They can be found chiefly in the decrees of the popes and councils; in the sacred liturgies; and in the writings of the Fathers, Doctors and great theologians of the Church.

We have said the Bible does not contain the entire revelation of God to man. It nowhere tells us how many sacred books there are, nor what they are, and if we did not know this for certain from Tradition, we should not even have a Bible. If we consult the Bible only, without Tradition, we ought for instance, still to keep holy the Saturday with the Jews, instead of Sunday, for there is not a single line in the whole Bible authorizing the sanctification of Sunday.

THE CHURCH, THE GUARDIAN AND CUSTODIAN OF THE BIBLE

Whoever accepts the Bible as the inspired Word of God, does so in the first place, on the authority of the Catholic

Church, because she was its sole guardian and custodian for fifteen hundred years, and is so still.

It is well to remember the Bible was not always the neatly bound volume we now have. For many years after the Epistles and Gospels were written the knowledge of them was confined to the churches to whom they were addressed. As time went on they were copied from the originals and sent to other churches, and were always held in great veneration as the Word of God. Thus for several centuries these sacred writings were scattered over Christendom.

Meanwhile some false copies, as well as many spurious writings purporting to be Scripture, were circulated among the faithful, causing great doubt and uncertainty. It was then that the Church collected all the manuscripts, and by her authority from Jesus Christ as custodian and teacher of His doctrine, separated the true from the false, and declared which were inspired, and which spurious. Only an infallible Church could do this; there is no other authority on the Bible, for the Church is the only Divine and infallible witness of Jesus Christ. Thus it was at a Roman synod in the year 382, that Pope St. Damasus, the supreme head of the Church, declared the canon of the Scriptures, that is, the official list of inspired books which make up what we now know as the Bible. The same canon was confirmed by a solemn decree of the Council of Trent, April 8, 1546 and of the Vatican, April 24, 1870. It consists of the forty-six books of the Old Testament, and the twenty-seven books of the New Testament, contained in the Latin Vulgate of which the Douay Bible has long been the approved authentic English translation.

The Church included in her canon the inspired books of the Old Testament, as revealed by God to the prophets, and preserved before Christ by the Jews; and as recognized and approved by Christ and His Apostles as the Word of God and sanctioned by the councils. These the Church has always kept intact and preserved as sacred and inspired, together with the New Testament.

At this time the Bible was not a book and not printed as we have it, but a complete collection of manuscripts, originally written in Hebrew and Greek. About this time also (382), Pope St. Damasus ordered a new and complete translation from the oldest manuscripts, to be made into Latin, which was then the living language, not only of Rome and Italy but of the civilized world. This gigantic task he assigned to St. Jerome, the most learned Hebrew scholar of his time, who devoted more than thirty years to this work. His translation, called the ―Vulgate,‖ because written in the vernacular or vulgar tongue, was widely circulated throughout Christendom, and is still the approved Latin version with which all Catholic translations must agree.

From the early fifth century many translations were made into the different languages then used by the people, all written by hand and all by Catholics. The Bible was well known and well preserved. Copies made by hand were multiplied, and learned monks devoted a great part of their lives to this work. Many of their hand-copied Bibles, artistically illuminated, are still extant.

Little do we realize in our age of electrical machinery what labor and care it cost the Church to preserve and perpetuate the Bible before the invention of printing. In England alone there were ten translations in whole or in part, and the whole Bible existed in English long before Wycliffe was born (1324). After the invention of printing in 1440 copies were multiplied by thousands. Before Luther’s translation of the New Testament into German in 1521, there were several hundred editions of the Bible, all Catholic; and nearly two hundred of them were in the languages of the laity. Of these, fourteen complete editions were in German prior to Luther’s; nine before he was born! How false to say Luther brought the Bible to light! (Protestantism got the Bible from the Catholic Church and borrowed from her translation. Some Bible scholars even maintain that Luther had the old German Catholic Bible of 1483 before him when he was making his translation. How false to say Luther ―discovered‖ the Bible for the first time at Erfurt about 1507, and gave it to the people in his translation made in 1521!)

Thus history bears witness that the Catholic Church preserved and gave to mankind the most imperishable book of all times. Truly no sect, no other denomination ever did for the Bible what the Catholic Church has done. And as she preserved it in the past so she defends it today; she esteems and reveres it as no other denomination. To her, every line of it is sacred, the inspired Word of God. But that does not blind her to the fact that it is not the sole and only rule of faith. For the Bible and authentic Tradition together contain the full ―deposit of faith‖ as transmitted by Christ and His Apostles and over both the Bible and Tradition Christ Himself has placed His Church as official guardian and infallible interpreter.

Christ did not leave His children dependent on the leaden types of a book, but referred them to His Apostles and their lawful successors. He did not appoint a written or printed book to be the infallible guide of mankind but founded for that purpose a living and speaking infallible Church. She alone has the authority and the power to explain and impart to men the true meaning of the Bible, and the sense of oral and written tradition.

The Church has always recognized and used the Bible, in as far as it goes, as a duplicate on parchment, of the doctrines which Christ Himself inscribed with Divine fire upon the hearts of His Apostles.

THE CHURCH, THE OFFICIAL AND AUTHENTIC INTERPRETER

The very nature of the Bible itself ought to convince every thinking man that it stands in need of an official and authentic interpreter vouched for by Christ Himself. It is not a clear and simple volume, easy to understand, but a collection of sublime and mysterious books dealing with the revelations of God to Man, and often very difficult to comprehend. St. Peter himself tells us that in the Epistles of Saint Paul ―there are certain things difficult to understand, which the unlearned and unstable distort, just as they do the rest of the Scriptures also to their own destruction‖ (2 Peter iii. 16). And elsewhere in the same Epistle he says, ―You must understand first of all, that no prophecy of Scripture is made by private interpretation‖ (2 Peter i. 20).

The illustrious doctor Saint Augustine says, ―What else gives rise to so many heresies, save that the Scripture, which is good in itself, is ill understood?‖ For the Bible is not its own witness. It does not, in obscure and doubtful passages, decide upon the true meaning of its own words. Without an infallible interpreter the Bible can be the most misleading book ever written. All the sects have always appealed to the unchanging Bible to prove their ever-changing and contradictory doctrines—each one of them pretending to have hit upon the true meaning! In our own day there are hundreds of different denominations, all of them built upon the same Bible, yet contradicting one another on every possible point of doctrine. Such divisions in the Christian family are a scandal, and the greatest obstacle to the conversion of pagan peoples, who might well say to their Christian teachers that they had better stay at home till they agree among themselves upon Christ’s teachings.

Obviously, Jesus Christ cannot be the author of such contradictory doctrines. Certainly, then, He must have left in His Church the only means of preventing it, that is, some judge perfectly qualified to decide with infallible authority, on all religious doubts and controversies, and to point out with absolute certainty the true meaning of the inspired Volume. This is the only possible way to safeguard unity of doctrine, which is such a glorious mark of the Catholic Church alone.

Now, the judge perfectly qualified to decide all doubts and controversies is none other than the teaching body of the Catholic Church, in other words, the Pope and bishops collectively, united in general council, or in their Sees throughout the world, with the Pope at their head; or the Pope alone, when he decides officially, on matters of faith or morals as teacher of the whole Church.

As in civic affairs a case at law could never be terminated if the council were allowed to appeal to the law books alone, without a presiding judge, lawfully commissioned and fully qualified to interpret the text of the law, so too, religious controversies can never he settled by an appeal to the Scripture alone, without a divinely appointed judge to decide authoritatively on all religious disputes, and interpret with infallible authority, the true meaning of Holy Scripture.

FALLACY OF PRIVATE INTERPRETATION

Look about you in the realm of religion today. Everywhere you see scores and scores of Protestant denominations and sects. They cannot agree among themselves about the most fundamental doctrines of Christianity. What is their fundamental principle? Any well-informed Protestant will tell you it is the Bible, the whole Bible, and nothing but the Bible, and that self-interpreted. With no central authority to decide upon its doubtful and obscure passages, no one has any right to dictate to them what any scriptural text may or may not mean. Each individual must read and think it out for himself, and draw his own conclusions. With them no pope, no church is infallible, but every individual is infallible! It is this pernicious principle that has set up church after church and sect after sect. It is this principle that teaches one that Christ is Divine, that is, true God and true man, and teaches another that Christ is not Divine, but only human. And strangely enough, both will defend their contentions by the Bible.

The idea of private interpretation was a thing unheard of before the religious revolution of the sixteenth century. If this same principle were applied to the laws and constitutions of a country it would spell anarchy and ruin! We would rather be out of that country!

If the enemies of the Catholic Church could find one weak spot in the armor of infallibility, the Catholic Church would be as changeable and unstable as any human organization, and very like unto the many sects and denominations we see around us in the world today.

But there are other arguments against the ―Bible only‖ rule of faith. Historical ly, we know for certain that the Bible has never been the way to learn Jesus Christ and His Divine doctrine, because the Bible could not, at any period, have been accessible to all Christians. As we have seen, the Christian religion had been spread, and flourished before the books of the New Testament were written. And even after they had been written there were millions of Christians who lived and died without so much as having seen a complete collection of its several parts, much less the whole Bible.

THE VOICE OF THE CHURCH, THE INFALLIBLE AUTHORITY

What guide, then, had these Christians of the first, second and third centuries, a period of persecution so violent that only the omnipotent power of God could enable them to withstand it? Certainly not the Bible! Yet this might be called the Golden Age of Christianity when several millions of every age, sex, and condition sealed their faith in Jesus Christ by a glorious martyrdom. They learned, as Christ and His Apostles declared all Christians must learn, not from a book they did not have, but from the voice of that Divine and infallible authority Christ commanded all men to hear (Luke x. 16; Matt. xviii. 17).

Or again, from the fourth to the fifteenth century, how utterly impossible to supply every Christian with a copy of the Bible! Books, in the modern sense of the word, did not exist before the invention of printing in 1440. The labor of writing them was so great, that they were very expensive and only the very wealthy could afford a book of any kind. During that long period the Bible had to be copied by hand and though hand-written copies were multiplied, their cost put them beyond the great mass of the people. They were chiefly in the hands of the clergy and the learned.

Even today many are too poor to have a Bible. What countless multitudes of Christians, then, down through all these nineteen centuries have had no Bible?- And what about those who could not read or understand it if they had a Bible? What of the illiterate of our own and other times? For even if the Bible were at all times accessible to all, how many millions there are, and always have been, in every age and in every country, who are not accessible to the Bible, because they cannot read! In actual practice, then, the Bible never has been and never can be, a universal guide to the knowledge of Christ and His Divine doctrine. Hence, the theory of private interpretation must always be untenable.

ARE CATHOLICS ALLOWED TO READ THE BIBLE?

Before leaving this subject, we must take notice of a question often asked, namely, ―Are Catholics allowed to read the Bible?‖ Most certainly they are, and not only allowed to read it, but urged to do so. But as the heretics of every age, and especially since the appearance of Protestantism in the sixteenth century, have always sought to defend their errors by perverting the sacred text, therefore the Church is bound to protect and warn her children against erroneous translations which are often designedly offered to the ignorant.

Hence the Church does not permit the people in general to read Protestant Bibles because they contain many errors and false doctrines regarding even the most fundamental truths of Christianity. However, educated Catholics who for controversial purposes wish to read the Protestant Bible, may do so with the permission of their bishop. Aside from this restriction, the Church does allow and encourage the use of the Bible in editions that are duly authorized and accompanied by explanatory notes. With this precaution, the Church has never at any time, been opposed to the devout reading of the sacred Scriptures; and. she desires most earnestly that all, even the laity, should know it and meditate upon it. The New Testament, especially the four Gospels are best suited for this purpose. It has always been a Catholic tradition that the Bible should have the place of honor in the home, but today few homes have a copy of the holy Bible. Therefore it is important to urge that at least a copy of the New Testament be found in every Catholic home. Its doctrines are the foundation of our Christian, devout life. Its Divine message was meant for us today, even as it was for the peoples of ages past. We are moved by it today even as Christ’s hearers were by the simplicity and sincerity of His words, not less than by the beauty and sublimity of His doctrine. Its message has a charm that touches the soul and raises our thoughts to the contemplation of supernatural and eternal things. We read it that the teachings of Christ may fill our hearts and purge our minds of sordid thoughts and worldly cares; that we may learn to know Christ, and knowing Him, may love and serve Him. We read it to calm our troubled souls, and quiet the restless activity of our distracted minds; we read it for truth, for tidings of eternity.

The official prayer of the Church, commonly called the Divine Office, which all the clergy are bound to recite, and which requires from one to two hours every day of the year, is taken almost exclusively from the Bible. The same is true of the Mass, the highest act of worship that can be offered to God; and that the faithful may the more fully enter into the spirit, of this sacrifice, the Church provides missals having the Latin and the vernacular of the sacred rite, arranged in parallel columns.

So anxious is the Church that her children should know and love Holy Scripture that she makes it the duty of her priests to read and explain some of the most important parts of it to the people every Sunday. The truth is, the Catholic Church makes more and better use of the Bible, and has done more to preserve and defend it than any other denomination in the world, or even all of them together have ever done; so that many sincere Bible lovers, even outside her fold, have come to recognize her as its only rational and adequate defender.

Dear Reader, you have learned from this booklet that Jesus Christ is the Redeemer of man and Founder of the Church. He has been presented to you as Teacher, Priest and Pastor in His Church, a society both human and Divine. You have been convinced that the Church He founded is the guardian and custodian of the Bible, likewise its authentic interpreter.

The Catholic Church invites all Christians to return to the great Mother Church which teaches today the same unchanging doctrine taught by Christ and His Apostles (Matt. xxviii. 19, 20). Those who condemn her for not changing her doctrines should condemn the professors of mathematics for not changing the multiplication table. Truth cannot change. Of its very nature it is absolutely unchangeable. The multiplication table was formulated centuries ago, yet no educated person ever accused it of not being ―up-todate.‖ So, too, the doctrines of the Catholic Church were formulated centuries ago, and no educated person ever accused them of not being ―up-todate.‖

All the Church desires is that her doctrines be investigated. If you do not find the same infallible certainty for them as for the truths of mathematics, do not accept them. Catholic truths have stood the test of human reasoning and investigation for more than nineteen hundred years. If they were not reasonable they would have been rejected centuries ago.

BE SURE TO READ THE COMPANION BOOKLET, HOW TO FIND THE TRUE CHURCH

PRAYERS

The Sign of the Cross

In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.

Ind. of 100 days. 300 days if made with Holy Water. (“Preces et Pia Opera, 631.)

We profess our Catholic Faith chiefly by the Sign of the Cross. By it we call to mind the chief mysteries of our holy religion, the existence of God, the mystery of the Blessed Trinity, and the incarnation and death of the Son of God.

The Cross is the principal emblem of the Catholic religion. It is the symbol of our faith, the source of our hope, the incentive of our love, the sign of our redemption, and the pledge of our salvation. It is at once a beautiful prayer and a powerful weapon against evil.

THE APOSTLES’ CREED

I BELIEVE in God, the Father Almighty, Creator of heaven and earth; and in Jesus Christ, His only Son, Our Lord, who was conceived by the Holy Ghost, born of the Virgin Mary; suffered under Pontius Pilate, was crucified, died and was buried; He descended into hell; the third day He arose again from the dead;’ He ascended into heaven, and sitteth at the right hand of God, the Father Almighty, from thence He shall come to judge the living and the dead.

I believe in the Holy Ghost, the holy Catholic Church, the communion of saints, the forgiveness of sins, the resurrection of the body, and life everlasting. Amen.

A CHRISTIAN’S ACT OF FAITH

I BELIEVE in one God. I believe that in God there are three Divine Persons—God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Ghost.

I believe that God the Son became man, without ceasing to be God. I believe that He is my Lord and Savior, that He died on the Cross for the salvation of all mankind, that He arose from the dead, ascended into heaven, and will come at the end of time to judge the living and the dead.

I believe in heaven and hell- that God will reward the good with perfect happiness forever, and punish the wicked with never-ending pain. I believe everything else that God has taught and revealed.

O my God, who art all-good and merciful, I hope to be saved and want to do all that is necessary for my salvation according to Thy holy will. I have committed many sins in my life, but I detest and hate them, and I am sorry, very sorry for all of them, because by them I have offended Thee, my God, who art all-good, all-perfect, all-holy, so merciful, so kind, who didst die on the Cross for me and whom I love with all my heart. I ask Thy pardon, O my God, and I promise Thee, by the help of Thy grace, never to sin again.

PRAYER TO JESUS CRUCIFIED

O JESUS, my Crucified Lord, look down with pity and compassion upon sinful man; suffer not those souls for whom Thou didst die upon the Cross to be lost to Thy heavenly kingdom, and to be punished eternally.

By that compassion which moved Thee to raise Thine adorable head crowned with thorns, and agonizing with pain, to listen to the prayer of the good thief, have pity on us; and out of that immense charity which consumed Thee on that Cross, pardon us!

Let not Thy Precious Blood be shed in vain, O Lord, but may each drop fall with mercy upon all poor sinners, for whom Thou didst suffer and die!

Take us, O Jesus, within Thy fond embrace, and let those wide-extended arms press us to Thine adorable Heart, burning for love of sinful man, even amidst Thy excruciating tortures upon the Cross! May those sacred flames consume in us all that is opposed to the reign of Thy love; and by the fruits of our Redemption may we become one in Thee, our crucified Lord, together with the Father and the Holy Ghost, the ever-blessed Three in One. Amen.

PRAYER FOR THE GIFTS OF THE HOLY GHOST

O SPIRIT of Wisdom, preside over all my thoughts, words and actions, from this hour till the moment of my death. Spirit of Understanding, enlighten and teach me.

Spirit of Counsel, direct my inexperience.

Spirit of Fortitude, strengthen my weakness.

Spirit of Knowledge, instruct my ignorance.

Spirit of Piety, make me fervent in good works.

Spirit of Fear, restrain me from all evil.

Heavenly Spirit, make me persevere in the service of God, and enable me to act on all occasions, with goodness and benignity, patience, charity and joy, longanimity, mildness and fidelity. Let the heavenly virtues of modesty, continency and chastity adorn the temple Thou hast chosen for Thy abode. O Spirit of Holiness, by Thy all-powerful grace, preserve my soul from the misfortune of sin. Amen.

ACT OF OBLATION TO THE HOLY GHOST

ON my knees before the great cloud of witnesses, I offer myself, soul and body to Thee, O Eternal Spirit of God. I adore the brightness of Thy purity, the unerring keenness of Thy justice, and the might of Thy love. Thou art the strength and the light of my soul. In Thee I live and move and am. I desire never to grieve Thee by unfaithfulness to grace, and I pray with all my heart to be kept from the smallest sin against Thee. Make me faithful in every thought, and grant that I may always listen to Thy voice, watch for Thy light, and follow Thy gracious inspirations. I cling to Thee, and give myself to Thee, and ask Thee, by Thy compassion, to watch over me in my weakness. Holding the pierced feet of Jesus, and looking at His five wounds, and trusting to His Precious Blood, and adoring His open side and riven Heart, I implore Thee, adorable Spirit, Helper of my infirmity, so to keep me in Thy grace, that I may never sin against Thee with the sin which Thou canst not forgive. Give me grace, O Holy Ghost, Spirit of the Father and of the Son, to say to Thee always and everywhere, ―Speak, Lord, for Thy servant heareth.‖ Amen.

PRAYER TO CHRIST THE KING

O JESUS CHRIST, I acknowledge Thee as universal King. All that has been made, has been created for Thee. Exercise all Thy rights over me. I renew my baptismal vows, I renounce Satan, his pomps and his works; and I promise to live as a good Christian. And in particular do I pledge myself to labor, to the best of my ability, for the triumph of the rights of God and of Thy Church. Divine Heart of Jesus, to Thee do I proffer my poor services, laboring that all hearts may acknowledge Thy Sacred Kingship, and that thus the reign of Thy peace be established throughout the whole universe. Amen.

Plenary indulgence, once a day, under usual conditions. (254)

AN ACT OF CONSECRATION

O SOVEREIGN and true leader, O Christ, my King, I kneel before Thee here like a vassal in the old feudal times to take my oath of fealty. I place my joined hands within Thy wounded hands and promise Thee inviolable loyalty. I dedicate to Thee all the powers of my soul, all the senses of my body, all the affections of my heart.

PRAYER TO THE HOLY GHOST FOR GUIDANCE

By Cardinal Manning

O HOLY Spirit of God, take me as Thy disciple, guide me, illuminate me, sanctify me, bind my hands that I may not do evil, cover my eyes that I may not see it; sanctify my heart that evil may not rest within me. Be Thou my God, be Thou my Guide; wheresoever Thou leadest me, I will go; whatsoever Thou forbiddest me, I will renounce; and whatsoever Thou commandest, in Thy strength I will do. Lead me, then, unto the fulness of Thy truth. Amen.

PRAYER FOR THE RETURN TO THE TRUE FOLD

O LORD Jesus, most merciful Savior of the world, we beg and beseech Thee, through Thy most Sacred Heart, that all wandering sheep may now return to Thee, the shepherd and bishop of their souls, who livest and reignest with God the Father and the Holy Spirit, God forever and ever. Amen.

My God, unite all minds in truth and all hearts in charity. Ind. of 300 days each time. (10)

A PRAYER FOR THE CONVERSION OF UNBELIEVERS

O HOLY Spirit of Truth, we beseech Thee to enlighten the minds of unbelievers, to inspire their hearts, to receive Thy word and to believe the teachings of the Church; to give them courage to accept the faith and openly profess it; that they may come into union with Thee and the Father through Christ, our Lord, who liveth and reigneth forever and ever. Amen.

Lead, Kindly Light

(By Cardinal Newman before he became a Catholic) LEAD, kindly Light, amid th’ encircling gloom Lead Thou me on;

The night is dark, and I am far from home, Lead Thou me on.

KEEP THOU MY FEET; I DO NOT ASK TO SEE THE DISTANT SCENE; ONE STEP ENOUGH FOR ME. I WAS NOT EVER THUS, NOR PRAYED THAT THOU SHOULDST LEAD ME ON;

I loved to choose and see my path; but now Lead Thou me on.

I LOVED THE GARISH DAY; AND, IN SPITE OF FEARS, PRIDE RULED MY WILL; REMEMBER NOT PAST YEARS. SO LONG THY POWER HATH BLEST ME, SURE IT STILL WILL LEAD ME ON,

O’er moor and fen, o’er crag and torrent, till The night is gone,

And with the morn those angels faces smile, Which I have loved long since, and lost awhile.

THAT IN ALL THINGS GOD MAY BE GLORIFIED. HOLY RULE OF ST. BENEDICT.

Nihil Obstat:

@ Stephanus Schappler, O.S.B.

Abbas Coadjutor Im. Conceptionis

Imprimatur:

@ Carolus Hubertus Le Blond

Episcopus Sancti Josephi

********

Does It Matter Much What Man Believes?

REV. JOHNA. O’BRIEN, PH.D

INDEX

UNSOUND ASSUMPTIONS

The person interested in discovering the religious viewpoint prevalent in America today has but to advert to the utterances he hears on all sides-utterances repeated with such frequency as to become accepted as axioms. Every reader will recall such as the following: “It doesn’t matter much what a man believes as long as he is sincere and does what is right.” “Religion is not a creed to be believed but a way to live.” “All religions are about equally good. They are all but different roads to the same destination.” “Don’t worry about differences in creed. The important thing is to live right, to keep the golden rule.” “A man will be judged not by the doctrine he believes, but by the life he lives.”

Whatever phrasing these slogans assume there is a kindred sentiment running through each of them, and all find a common agreement in their rejection of the importance of belief in the dogmas of religion. Indeed, the very word “dogma” has come to produce an unpleasant reaction in the popular mind, and to put a doctrine in ill-repute one has but to brand it with that label.

Before undertaking to hold up the above mentioned slogans to the light of reason and common sense, it will be profitable to trace the genesis of this sentiment now so rampant in America. A brief glance at the factors responsible for its origin and development will go along way toward enabling a person to fathom the mystery by which a concept, unknown for practically sixteen centuries of the Christian era, has gradually come to gain the ascendency in the religious thought of the American people.

TRUTH TOLD WITHOUT RANCOUR

In prosecuting this investigation into the origin, nature, and credentials of religious indifferentism, it may not be amiss to state at the very outset that it is my intention to treat the subject in a thoroughly frank, but impartial scientific manner. While at times I may feel compelled by the laws of logic to express a vigorous dissent from the principles of indifferentism, I do so with a complete absence of ill-will, and with nothing but sentiments of kindliness and good feeling toward all my fellow Americans, who may hold contrary views. Scholars of every shade of philosophic and religious thought recognize that a discussion in which fundamental disagreements are expressed on religious views, may be conducted in an impersonal manner, without engendering the slightest vestige of rancor.

There is no logical reason for carrying differences in philosophical or religious views over into the altogether disparate domains of personal and social relationships. Hence, the reader, whether Catholic or non-Catholic, will remember that when at times I express a vigorous disagreement with some of the principles of indiferentism, I have in my heart only friendship and affection for the indifferentist. For, the aim of the discussion is to add not a jot or tittle to the sum total of the world’s rancor, but to lessen it by clarifying the present confusion in religious thought in America, by showing the clear dictates of logic when applied to prevalent viewpoints in religion.

ORIGIN OF PRINCIPLE OF PRIVATE INTERPRETATION

When Martin Luther, an Augustinian monk, on October 31, 1517, nailed his ninety-five theses to the doors of the Church at Wittenburg, and proceeded to establish a religion of his own, he set loose in the religious world a principle which was destined to produce consequences far beyond the ken of himself or his fellow reformers. It was the principle of the supremacy of private judgment in the interpretation of the Scriptures and as a guide in the religious life. Not that Luther, Calvin, Zwinglius, or any of the other so-called reformers following immediately in his wake conceived for a single moment of this principle as one that would ultimately be invoked by the maker of every new creed as the basis and justification of his procedure. Luther believed that his own interpretation of the Scriptures was the only correct one-all the others were wrong. Calvin placed the same degree of overwhelming confidence in his own private judgment. So, likewise Zwinglius, Melancthon and the rest.

Far from being indifferentists in religion, these reformers were fanatics, each believing his own particular creed was correct, and willing to persecute unto death all who contumaciously held a contrary interpretation, Far from being the founders of religious tolerance, as a modern myth is fond of picturing them, the reformers set an example of intolerance and persecution which in cruelty and fanaticism has seldom, if ever, been equalled in the long annals of Christendom.

Insisting with despotic finality that his judgment be accepted as supreme in all matters of religion, Martin Luther pronounced every one who differed from him in doctrine a heretic, condemning him in coarse and vulgar language. Thus he writes, “Whoever teaches otherwise than I teach, condemns God, and must remain a child of hell.” (“Saemtliche Werke” XXVIII, 346) And again: “I can hear and endure nothing which is against my teaching.” (“Works,” ed. Walch, VIII, 1974)

THE INTOLERANCE OF THE REFORMERS

When the peasants, led astray by Luther’s example of the private interpretation of Scripture to suit one’s fancy, sought to carry out their own ideas of the meaning of the Bible, thus provoking the Peasant’s War, Luther turned on them with savage ruthlessness, urging the nobles to kill these “children of the devil” and to track them down like mad dogs. (“toile Hunde”). His advice was followed literally. Thousands of these poor peasants were murdered with atrocious cruelty. In one of the letters of Erasmus (Epis. 803), the number of slain is placed at 100,000. Far from regretting such an orgy of wanton human slaughter, Luther prided himself upon it, saying: “I, Martin Luther, slew all the peasants in the rebellion, for I said that they should be slain; all their blood is upon my head. But I cast it on the Lord God, who commanded me to speak in this way.” (Werke, Erl. edition LIX, p. 284 “Table Talk”; see also Grisar, Vol. III, p. 213.)

Instead of becoming gentler and more tolerant with age, Luther grew more rancorous and vituperative. A short time before his death he wrote two frightfully abusive pamphlets. One was “Against the Papacy, founded by the devil at Rome,” the other was against the Jews. The frontispiece in the first pamphlet was a shockingly vulgar picture of apiece with the contents. This production, the German historian, Doellinger, termed “a document whose origin can scarcely be explained otherwise than by supposing that Luther wrote the most of it when under the influence of intoxicating drink.” (Doellinger, “Luther” p. 48. )

PERSECUTION OF JEWS

His attack against the Jews like wise bristles with vile epithets, such as, “young devils damned to hell.” He summoned his followers in Germany “to burn down Jewish schools and synagogues, and throw pitch and sulphur into the flames; to destroy their houses; to confiscate their ready money in gold and silver; to take from them their sacred Books, even the whole Bible; to forbid their holding any religious services under penalty of death; and if that did not help matters, to hunt them out of the country like mad dogs!” (“Luther’s Works,” Vol. XX, pp. 2230–2632.) It was in this spirit of bitter hostility and intolerance toward all who held a single theological viewpoint other than his own that Luther persisted until the final curtain fell.

After a painstaking study of the reformer’s life and writings, that impartial student of history, John L. Stoddard, formulates the following conclusion concerning Luther’s attitude toward freedom of conscience: “It is commonly said that Luther inaugurated the right of free investigation. Nothing is less true. He talked of it, as a reason for abandoning the traditions of the Church, but he did his utmost to bring about complete subjection to an unassailable Bible as he interpreted it! He instituted thus a Pope of printed paper, instead of a Pope of flesh and blood. Moreover, since he constituted himself the authoritative interpreter of the Bible, he practically claimed for himself infallibility. One of Luther’s contemporaries, Sebastian Frank, wrote despondently: “Even under the Papacy one had more freedom than now.”‘ (Stoddard, J. L., “Rebuilding a Lost Faith,” pp. 97, 98. )

This tyrannical attitude in matters of conscience was not confined to Luther. It prevailed among the reformers following in his footsteps. It was implicit in the system. For, in order to secure any coherence in his ranks, it was necessary for each reformer to set up his private judgment as supreme and absolute, and to insist upon all his followers moulding their judgment in conformity with the pattern which he designed for them. Otherwise there would have been no unity within the organization, but instead there would have been as many creeds as there were individuals exercising their private judgments.

EXAMPLES

Take Calvin, for example, as he may be said to typify in this regard the attitude of the whole swarm of so-called reformers following in Luther’s tracks. In his letter to Aubeterre, Calvin claimed infallible authority, regarding himself as the mouthpiece of God, saying: “God has conferred upon me the authority to declare what is good anal what is bad.” (“Lettres francaises,” Vol. I, pp. 389.) In consonance with this premise, he demanded death by fire or sword for all who differed from him. His long imprisonment of his theological opponent, Servetus, and his subsequent burning of him to death over a slow fire, casts a lurid light upon the kind of religious freedom which the reformers brought into the world.

Nor was the case otherwise with the early settlers of America. Braving the perils of the sea to find in the New World the religious liberty denied them in the Old, the Puritans straightway proceeded to display violent antagonism and intolerance toward all who sought to worship God in a manner different from them. The voyage across the Atlantic brought a change of skies but not of mind. Like the individual reformers the Puritans regarded religious liberty as a boon for themselves, but as an evil for all who disagreed with them. Hence the heretic in America found himself receiving from the hands of the early colonists the same hostile treatment that was his portion in the Old World. The early history of the colonists in America wrote but another chapter in the age-old story of the persecution of the dissidents by the dominant religious group.

THE SWING OF THE PENDULUM

How is it then that there has come to dominate the thinking of the great masses of people in America a philosophy of religion which is the very opposite of the one prevailing for eighteen centuries in Europe and for many years in the history of America? Why is it that apparently the majority of American people will give ready assent to the declaration of the popular lecturer that, “it doesn’t matter what a man believes; all religions are equally good; creeds don’t count, it’s the life that one lives that matters,” when their ancestors for centuries believed that orthodoxy of creed was of paramount importance? Why is it that denominational lines are so blurred, with even professing members worshipping in a church of one denomination on one Sunday and in one of a different creed on the next? America has recently had the amazing spectacle of a prominent Baptist minister, the Rev. Dr. Harry E. Fosdick, serving as the regular preacher in a Presbyterian Church in the nation’s metropolis. The spectacle no longer amazes. On the contrary, the only amazement caused the general public was the action of a conference of Presbyterian ministers in rudely presuming to question the orthodoxy of the Baptist preacher’s views in the light of the Presbyterian creed. The general consensus of editorial comment in the nation’s press was that the action of the Presbyterian ministers in protesting that there was such a thing as a difference between a Baptist minister’s teaching and the Presbyterian creed was in the eyes of the general public simply a case of “much ado about nothing.” Whence has come this complete swing of the pendulum from an absolute insistence at the cost of life itself upon the paramount importance of doctrinal orthodoxy to a complete disregard, which at times almost approaches contempt, for religious dogmas and denominational creeds?

THE SUPREMACY OF PRIVATE JUDGMENT

To understand how the viewpoint of religious indifferentism, with its flabby thinking, with its obvious contradictions, with its sentimental effervescence, with its negation of the first principle of logic and the dictates of common sense, with its implicit denial of the validity of objective criteria of truth and error, could yet become the dominant philosophy of religion among the people of America, it is necessary to recall the principle which Martin Luther ushered into the religious world.

It is the principle of the supremacy of private judgment in the interpretation of Scripture and as a guide in the religious life. True, Luther did not formulate it as a principle to be used by others, but reserved its application to his own judgment. But his example proved more powerful than his words. It became infectious. Little did he foresee apparently that he was unleashing a hydra that was destined to divide his own sect into twenty-one different divisions, and that has brought-and is still bringing-more disintegration and division into Christianity than all the heresiarchs before or since his time. Like the fabled serpent, Hydra, that had nine heads and grew two more for every one cut off, this principle gives birth to two new sects whenever two members of a denomination disagree, by constituting the private judgment of each dissident supreme and beyond appeal. The two hundred and more different religious sects making up Protestantism today are but the mature fruition of Luther’s principle of the supremacy of private judgment in religion.

Let us analyze the implications of this principle. Clearly contained therein is the implication of the invalidity of objective criteria for the determination of truth. The criteria have become purely subjective. For, according to the principle which Luther exemplified in the formation of his creed, that is to be accepted which appeals to the individual, and rejected if it does not. Thus when Luther found that St. James in his epistle set forth the teaching that “faith without good works is dead” he promptly called it an “epistle of straw” and threw it overboard. Why? Because it does not make the same forceful appeal to him as his own doctrine of salvation by “faith alone.”

For a similar reason be arbitrarily inserted the word “alone” after the word “faith” in the passage of St. Paul (Rom. III:28) to make it square with his pet doctrine. When reproached for this, Luther offered simply his own will and pleasure as complete justification for his procedure. That it may be evident to all that the writer is not imputing to Luther a reason other than the one which Luther himself assigned we will quote his own words: “You tell me what a great fuss the Papists are making because the word “alone” is not in the text of Paul. If your Papist makes such an unnecessary row about the word “alone,’ say right out to him: “Dr. Martin Luther will have it so,” and say “Papists and asses are one and the same thing.” “1 will have it so, and 1 order it to be so, and my will is reason enough.” (Quoted by J. L. Stoddard, “Rebuilding a Lost Faith,” pp. 101–102. )

Instead of subscribing to the viewpoint of the modern indifferentist that it does not matter much what a man believes, as long as he does what is right, Luther held almost the direct opposite, namely, that it does not matter much what a man does as long as he believes aright.

In throwing overboard all objective criteria for the determination of religious truth, Luther enthroned the subjective reaction of the individual with all its whims and caprices as the dominant principle in the establishment of a doctrinal creed. But when subjectivism is made the cardinal principle in any system of belief, there is left no rational means by which error can be demonstrated, or the vagaries of a capricious nature effectively checked. For, each individual finds in his own subjective reaction a sufficient reason for his religious faith. It has become supreme and infallible, and beyond it there is no court of appeal. For, it is in the same domain as taste and fancy, concerning which philosophers have long maintained it is futile to dispute.

It is not probable that Luther had any clear perception of the intrinsically divisive implication of the principle he introduced into the religious world. Principles, however, have a peculiar habit-especially when permitted to function for a sufficient length of time-of gradually bringing to the surface in explicit form, implications which were lurking under cover, unperceived and unsuspected. As Cardinal Newman with profound penetration has pointed out: “Principles will develop themselves beyond the arbitrary points of which you are so fond, and by which hitherto they have been limited, like prisoners on parole.” (Newman, Cardinal. “Prospects of the Anglican Church.)

THE FRUITS OF PRIVATE JUDGMENT

It is this principle of subjectivism, namely, the supremacy of private judgment, which has been working as a leaven in the bosom of Christianity for four centuries, and which is responsible for the present widespread disintegration and anarchy that has torn Protestantism into hundreds of different warring creeds, making soviet Russia with its Bolsheviki revolutions seem in comparison like a model of orderly government. It is this principle which has spread ruin and chaos throughout Christendom, making the divisions in Christianity a laughing-stock in the eyes of the pagan world, and causing them to exclaim to the missionaries sent to convert them: “When you Christians can first agree among yourselves as to the true religion, then come and impart the truth to us-but not before.”

It is this principle of subjectivism that is responsible for the sloughing off of clearly defined dogma, the blurring of denominational lines, and the making of religion a matter of the feelings and emotions.

Throwing aside the chart and compass of reason and the north star of a divinely established teaching authority, this principle plunged the bark of religion upon a dark and stormy sea, tossed about by the tempests of subjective feelings and the passions that stir ceaselessly within the human breast. It is this principle, which is the prolific mother of modern religious indifferentism, in which vague half-truths and obvious contradictions dressed up in pleasant sentimental garb are eagerly pressed to the bosom without so much as being questioned for their credentials.

When Rebecca wished to secure for her younger son, Jacob, the blessing and the birthright which Isaac intended for the elder son, Esau, she clothed Jacob with goat’s skin that it might appear to the blind father’s touch like the coarse skin of Esau. Isaac, hearing the soft voice of Jacob and feeling the rough skin of Esau, voiced his perplexity, saying: “The voice is indeed the voice of Jacob, but the hands are the hands of Esau.” (Gen. 27:22.) So the person who holds up to the light of reason and of objective reality the common utterances of the indifferentist that “all religions are equally good and true” will be compelled like Isaac to recognize the dual character of the subject confronting him, and say: “The statement as an intellectual assertion is perfectly false, but the sentiment is kindly and agreeable. It has the voice of Jacob, but the covering of the beloved Esau.”

NOT LOGICAL, BUT POPULAR

The philosophy of religious indifferentism which prevails in America today cannot be explained as the resultant of any sustained effort in logical reasoning. Its roots must be traced back to the principle of subjectivism which Luther introduced into the world in making the private judgment of the individual autonomous and supreme in matters of faith. For, if the principle of subjectivism be admitted then the subjective reaction of the individual, with its large core of feeling and emotion, becomes the sole criterion of religious truth and error. If all the creeds produce about the same subjective reaction, the same emotional response, the individual concludes, and on the basis of his fundamental assumption, concludes quite logicaly, that all religions are about equally good and true. That is why the philosophy of modern religious indifferentism is but the logical sequel of the principle of subjectivism-the twentieth century harvest of the sixteenth century seed.

That this principle of subjectivism is still as dominant in the Protestantism of today as it was in Luther’s time is clearly evident from a perusal of Hasting’s Dictionary of the Bible, the standard work among modern Protestant scholars. Writing on the inspiration and authority of the Bible as a guide for the individual, A. Steward says therein: “More pressing, perhaps, than even the distrust of criticism which prevails in many quarters, is the search for authority. If the Bible is not to be like an Act of Parliament, operative, “to the last and farthest extremity of the letter,” how is it to retain that quality which the Westminster Confession ascribes to it of being the final court of appeal in all controversies of religion? How is the divine and authoritative element to be separated from the human and fallible? How, in fact, is revelation, in the sense of communicated knowledge, possible by means of the Scriptures? . . . Denney quotes with approval the words of Robertson Smith, in which he gives a modern rendering of the testimony of the Holy Spirit: “If I am asked why I receive Scripture as the word of God, and as the only perfect rule of faith and life, I answer with all the fathers of the Protestant Church: Because the Bible is the only record of the redeeming love of God, because in the Bible alone I find God drawing near to man in Christ Jesus, and declaring to us in Him His will for our salvation. And this record I know to be true by the witness of His spirit in my heart, whereby I am assured that none other than God Himself is able to speak such words to my soul.” Denney, however, clearly perceives what we have pointed out above, that this is “a doctrine of the Divine mes- sage to man,” not “a doctrine of the text on Scripture.’ His view is that coming to Scripture “without any presuppositions whatever,” without any antecedent conviction that it is inspired,’ we become convinced that it is inspired because “it asserts its authority over us aswe read,” it has “power to lodge in our minds Christianity and its doctrines as being not only generally but divinely true,” its power to do this being “precisely what we mean by inspiration.”‘ (Dictionary of the Bible, ed. by James Hastings, Vol. I, p. 298. Scribners, N. Y.)

But neither Steward, nor Denney, nor Smith throw a single ray of light upon the baffling problem of explaining why so many divergent and contradictory interpretations result from the perusal of comparatively simple passages if each individual reader is really inspired as to the truth contained therein by the Holy Spirit. How can the Holy Ghost, the Spirit of Truth, inspire individuals to draw from the Holy Scripture contradictory meanings? In seeking to make each individual inerrant in his reading of the Bible, they make the Holy Spirit the father of lies and falsehood. If each individual feels “assured that none other than God Himself is able to speak such words to my soul,” then there remains no external authority to check the vagaries of the capricious spirit, for each individual has constituted his own subjective reaction as the final court of appeal. Is it any wonder then that Protestantism continues to this day to be the fertile mother of sects and divisions that it was in Luther’s day? For, in its very bosom it still harbors the principle of subjectivism, the principle of division, with no external or objective agency to restrain it from breaking out on its ceaseless rampage.

AMERICA -A STRONGHOLD OF RELIGIOUS INDIFFERENTISM

It is interesting to note that the phenomenon just described is peculiarly characteristic of America. In probably no other country in the world is the view that it does not matter what religious creed a man professes, so widespread as in America. In traveling through the various countries of Europe one finds the people surprised on hearing of the not uncommon practice in America of persons attending the services of a particular denomination on one Sunday, and the services of a different church on the next. True, religious indifferentism has filtered through in a small degree into a number of countries, due to a considerable extent to the spread of American travel and to the infiltration of American literature. America remains, however, its true home, and the paradise where it thrives most luxuriously.

The question may be raised, however, as to why America should be the special breeding ground of religious indifferentism. The explanation is to be found in the consideration of the following circumstances: First, the population of this country has become a virtual cross section of the population of the Old World, and a mosaic of its different religions. It has had, therefore, for many years a far greater diversity of religious faiths than any other country in the world. The diversity resulting from the adherents of the various religions in the Old World bringing their creedal viewpoints with them to the New World has been further increased by continued divisions within denominations, and by the birth of many new sects indigenous to American soil. It is an unusual year, indeed, that does not witness the arrival of one or more sects. The spectacle of over two hundred different sects proclaiming different creeds, each insisting upon certain important features which all the others are lacking, and which it alone has, so overwhelms the ordinary man in the street as to leave him in a daze of bewilderment and confusion. How is he to find time to investigate each of these myriad creeds to ascertain which is the true one? The prospect of accomplishing such a Herculean task simply staggers him. Furthermore, he sees the leaders of all these denominations hopelessly disagreeing among themselves. What is the reaction of the ordinary layman to this Babel of confusion and contradiction? It is as natural as it is inevitable. It is the feeling that it does not matter much after all what a man believes as long as he does what is right. It is the easiest way of escape from a difficult and disagreeable task. It is the pleasant path of least resistance-the route chosen by the vast millions of pleasure loving Americans. It is in consonance, too, with the principle of subjectivism in religion.

THE EASIEST WAY

The second factor in the espousal of indifferentism by the American people as their dominant religious philosophy may be found in the fact that the principal emphasis of this philosophy is upon the action rather than upon the thinking that lies behind the act. It stresses the importance of getting results. In so doing it harmonizes with the national temperament of the American people as a nation of “doers” rather than thinkers. The motor type is regarded with the highest esteem. Functionalism is the prevailing philosophy in business-the philosophy of “getting things done.” By this standard a man’s success is largely measured. Americans are particularly fond of the scriptural text: “By their fruits you shall know them.” We have made it our national shibboleth.

In thus emphasizing the importance of action and conduct the indifferentist is right. For the viewpoint of the religious indifferentist is not completely fallacious. Nothing that is totally erroneous could ever have won the number of adherents which indifferentism has won. It is a half truth, and it is because of the germ of truth that is in it that it has won its following. While correct in its emphasis upon the importance of conduct, it is myopic and wrong in its neglect and denial of the importance of an objectively sound and truthful creed as a basis of religious faith. It overlooks the fact that all conduct has its roots in thought. If the thinking is erroneous, the resultant action will not be entirely correct, but will reflect the shortcoming in the thought. It overlooks also the fact that God wishes to be worshipped not only in deed but in thought. He wishes the homage of our minds as well as of our bodies. The indifferentist does not apparently advert sufficiently to that scriptural counsel which expresses so profound a psychological truth: “As a man thinketh in his heart so is he.”

THEY LACK RELIGIOUS INSTRUCTION

The third factor may be traced to the fact that in America all denominational creeds enjoy the same political rights. They are all equal in the eyes of the civil law. There is undoubtedly a tendency to carry over this concept of the equality of all creeds from the sphere of jurisprudence to the field of reason and conscience. The tendency toward this carrying over in thought is further increased by the complete exclusion of religious instruction in the public schools, so that the majority of the people of America have but vague general ideas as to definite religious doctrines. Consequently they fall rather easy victims to such specious shibboleths of the indifferentist as: “It doesn’t matter much what a man believes as long as he does what is right.” “All religions are about equally good.” These pass ingratiatingly before their eyes with all the solemn splendour of unquestioned platitudes.

From what has been said thus far, it will be seen that the key to the solution of the perplexing problem of discovering how millions of people in America could espouse the philosophy of religious indifferentism with all its contradictions and inconsistencies, is to be found in the principle of subjectivism introduced into the religious world by Luther. By making the private judgment of each individual supreme, this principle became the prolific mother of innumerable religious sects. Confronted with the Herculean task of determining which one of these hundreds of warring creeds was really the true Church of Christ, vast numbers of the American people have simply raised aloft the white flag-surrendering to the apparent hopelessness of such a task and seeking an easy escape by declaring that all creeds are about equally good and that it doesn’t matter much anyway what a man believes as long as he does what is right.

Nihil Obstat:

Rev. T. E. Dillon, Censor Librorum

Imprimatur:

@ JOHN FRANCIS NOLL, Bishop of Fort Wayne. August 21, 1946

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Doing The Stations

BY REV ROBERT NASH, S J

INDEX

TWO MEN stand face to face in this first Station: Jesus Christ Our Lord, and Pontius Pilate, the Prisoner and His judge. Several times during the course of the trial the judge has borne public testimony to the innocence of the Prisoner. He is an innocent Man, Pilate declared, “therefore” He must be scourged! He is guilty of no crime, therefore let Him be handed over to be made the plaything of brutal soldiery; let Him be crowned with thorns, spat upon, derided, struck across the face. In the First Station this travesty of justice reaches its climax, for here is Pilate, with all the external trappings of justice about him, solemnly pronouncing sentence of death on Jesus Christ, an innocent Man. It will be well to recall briefly the chain of circumstances which led to this singularly illogical mode of procedure.

First of all, there are Pilate’s four distinct warnings. It is clear that, from the start, the irresolute judge realises he i s dealing with no ordinary man in this Prisoner. He had seen the Man’s more than human patience in face of galling injustice. He had been a witness of a gentleness and a meekness, and even a burning love, for the very men who were hounding Him to death. Where Pilate would have expected indignation he had found only compassion; when he would have looked for a man cringing at his feet and pleading for freedom, he had seen himself dealing with a strong, unbending Christ, strong in the strength that sinlessness gives, fearing no man, asking from no man aught but strict justice. This Jesus of Nazareth was no common criminal. The very personality of the Prisoner before him gave Pilate his first warning.

Not content with permitting him to be witness of the divinity of His very bearing, Our Lord spoke to Pilate, gave him every opportunity ofasking questions, and showed Himself willing to instruct him in everything he wished to know. “My kingdom is not of this world, though it is true I am indeed a King. You would have no power against .Me unless it were given you from above . . . For this I was born, and for this I came into the world that I might give testimony of the truth.”

Pilate’s third warning came from his own wife. “Have thou nothing to do with that just Man, because I have suffered many things this day in a dream because of Him.”

And lastly, even the very enemies of Christ all unwillingly warned Pilate. When they came back from Herod, they cried out that the Man should die “because He made Himself the Son of God.” And the gospel narrative adds significantly: “Now, when Pilate heard these words,he feared the more.” Four warnings, four signal chances for Pilate. And the result? “An innocent Man, therefore I will chastise Him. . . . He has done no crime, therefore let Him be crucified”! Strange logic. Can we account for it in any way!

Yes. For there has been a counterattack in Pilate’s heart. Grace has, indeed, been warning Pilate, but he is the slave of human respect. His motto is to get on well with the world at any cost. This his enemies know very well. Pilate’s position is in danger. He may lose favour with Caesar if he does not take prompt action at the very first suggestion of revolution. It is their chance to play their trump card. “Pilate, if you let this Man go, you are no friend of Caesar”! This struggle between Christ and theworld still raged in his breast, but, “being willing to satisfy the people and fearing lest a tumult might be made,” he handed Christ over to them to be crucified, because He was an innocent Man!

The soul of every man is a piece of territory belonging to Our Lord, because it is redeemed by His Blood. And over that territory war is being waged-a relentless war between Christ and Satan, Christ and Caesar, Christ and the World. Who shall have the victory: Christ or Caesar? That the soul must decide. Christ will not have a service that is forced, and Satan, with all his hatred, cannot compel the human will. Conscience utters words of warning (as conscience warned Pilate), but the soul can refuse to listen. Let a man violate his conscience, under arguments how specious soever, and like Pilate, he drives peace far from him.

Sanctity is tested, principally, by our attitude towards the Cross and suffering. The reason for this is apparent, for sanctity means close following of Christ, and there is no close following of Him without the Cross. “There is no detour around the Hill of Calvary.” Now, when we look about the world, we find that there are three attitudes towards this stern uncompromising teaching of Christ concerning the Cross and suffering. “The first of these is undisguised rejection of the Cross. In every heart there is a natural liking for what is naturally pleasant, and a natural repugnance for what is naturally unpleasant. Most men acquiesce in this state of things. When to these, a thorn-crowned, bleeding Christ presents Himself and bids them deny their appetites, practise self-control, choose, and deliberately, what naturally they do not like-when Christ lays down a programme like this before such worldly-minded men, they look upon Him with blank wonderment and perhaps even with contempt. What use is life if a man has to choose suffering? Their whole gospel is comfort and money and a good time. Pain they fly from. For them suffering in any form is an unmitigated misfortune, a most unwelcome visitor if it comes to their doorstep-to be dispatched, without ceremony or apology, at the very first opportunity. That is the world’s philosophy of life. It rejects Christ, therefore, becauseof the Cross. “We will not have this Man to reign over us.

There is a second class of people who follow Christ and accept Him, but this they do in spite of the Cross. They will tell you they are resigned to suffering when they know it comes from Him. Since He has seen fit to lay this heavy cross upon us, welcome be His Holy Will! It is clear, of course, that this second attitude is far and away more Christ-like than the first. When a crushing load of suffering is weighing down a man’s heart, then to lift up his eyes and say: “Thy Will be done,” that surely is a proof of the sincerity of the man’s love for Christ.

But is there anything higher? Do the saints stop at mere passive resignation to suffering? Does Christ Himself in this Second Station? No. Here is a third attitude-eager, active acceptance of the Cross. The saints had somehow so schooled themselves in the ways of Christ that many of them have been known to complain to God that He was forgetting them when He left them without suffering. These accept Christ and His teaching, not merely in spite of the Cross; they accept Him and His hard sayings, just because of the Cross. That is one of the big lessons of the Second Station. Here Christ is accepting the Cross, embracing the Cross, voluntarily facing a death of excruciating sufferings, not because such a death is strictly necessary, but because He wants us to learn that love proves itself, above all, by willingnessto suffer for one’s beloved.

Many of the saints went to their Calvary in a very ecstasy of happiness. One wonders if there was any such feeling of satisfaction in Our Lord’s heart as He walked down the steps of Pilate’s Pretorium and made His way through those howling multitudes to take up His Cross and go to Calvary. It is a matter of mere conjecture, but one imagines that He would deliberately have excluded all such feelings of joy at this moment. He embraced the Cross indeed, and loved the Cross, but all was done, one thinks, without a particle of natural satisfaction. All through the Passion, He is seeking, of set purpose, for suffering. Is it likely that He would have allowed Himself at this moment that feeling of relief which, in His loving generosity for others, He granted to His saints to feel as they set out for their Calvary.

Christ needs saints today. Why is it that there are so many good people but comparatively few saints? Is it that these good folk do not say their prayers or frequent the Sacraments? Or that they fall into serious sin sometimes? No. We have few saints because they are few who take literally the hard lesson of acceptation of suffering. As long as we leave this hard saying in the region of dry theory, so long shall we loiter on the road that leads to high holiness.

Christ offers us the Cross, and we can reject it with disdain. He offers us the Cross, and we can take it grudgingly and drag it after us; this is mere resignation. Christ offers us the Cross, and we can accept it lovingly, knowing that His choic e is always the best. This is what the saints do. It is what Our Divine Lord is doing in the Second Station.

A friend is always inclined to make excuses for the shortcomings of the one he loves. It is a friend’s way to fix his attention on what is best and most lovable in one who is dear to him, and, if he has to admit faults in him he does so reluctantly. His tendency all this time is to look out for the good in his friend, to judge him by what he is when at his best, not by what he is when a mistake made by that friend shows him to be only common clay after all. If you want to cause pain to that man, dwell at length on the defects of his friend, ridicule his friend, draw the attention of others to the fact that that friend is selfish, or brainless, or ugly, or ill-mannered, and you have driven a knife into the heart of the man to whom he is so dear.

Perhaps one of the most difficult lessons we have to learn is that Our Lord is just like that in His way of regarding our shortcomings. A difficult lesson because we persist in looking at our faults from our own angle, and we refuse to train ourselves to regard them from His angle. He falls three times on the way to Calvary because He wants us to learn how to use our own faults.

Naturally, our falls are inclined to cause us discouragement, Suppose a soul, deeply penetrated with the utter truth of Our Lord’s love for it, resolves to climb bravely up along the side of the steep mountain of sanctity. At first everything goes pleasantly. Prayer is a joy, for in prayer the soul meets face to face the Christ it loves. Penance is easy, for does not that generous soul want to make reparation for its own sins and the sins of the world? But presently there comes a topsyturvy to this happy state of things. There comes a day when the Lord hides His Face. Prayer is now most wearisome, nauseating perhaps, and penance bristles with difficulties. The soul seems to itself a foolish idealist. Climbing the mountain of holiness was all very, well under the cheering summer sun, with the pleasant breeze blowing, and the cool springs to drink from, and the song of birds making music under a blue sky. But to go on in the bleakness of winter, when the rains are heavy and the snow blinds your eyes and the icy winds make you shiver-that is quite another matter. “It’s a fool’s game,” whispers the tempter, “you’ve been aiming too high. Go back to the snug valleys and have sense: Sanctity is not for you.”

Or, take a very different case. A man has been wallowing in sin for years. But somehow-through the prayers of the mother who loves him, or the chance hearing of a sermon, or an off-hand picking up of a good book, or a casual chat with a priest in a railway carriage-somehow the grace of God begins to awaken once more in the man’s soul. He yields at last, and leaves his load of sin at the bleeding Feet. As he goes out from that good Confession, his face is radiant. A new happiness, to which he has long been a stranger, fills his heart, and he tells you he is fixed in his determination never to sin again. . But with him, too, the devil will bide his time. Certain is it that he will bring back again to that repentant sinner the remembrance of those past sins. He will deck them out in most alluring colours. “No use trying to be too good. It can’t be any harm to let go just this once, more especially as you have held out so long now. Have a “good time” just for once, and then you can fix up things again.” And the man feels a great longing to yield.

So the saintly soul is tempted and the sinful soul is tempted, each in its own way. Suppose, under stress of temptation like this, that we have fallen back into sin or imperfection. Why do we then become discouraged? Because we have hurt a Friend? Not, perhaps, so much for that reason as that our pride is wounded. We thought we were so much stronger. We believed we had will-power enough to stand up to that attack, and our fall has proved to us that we are still so very weak! We can almost work ourselves into a state of irritation with ourselves that we are not better or stronger than we thought! We forget to look at the fall from Our Lord’s angle. He is a Friend, and it is a friend’s way always to discover the gold in the one he loves. He is only too eager to recall our high ideals and sincere promises. He is only too anxious to make every allowance for the force of that temptation. He longs for one thing-that, like a frightened child, we run back to Him without a moment’s delay to tell Him we are ashamed and sorry, and that we are going to start loving Him again more than ever before.

This experience of our weakness does much to confirm us in humility, the virtue upon which must rest, the entire structure of holiness. At the same time that our faults kill in us the roots of pride, they pour into our souls a gentleness with others and a readiness to excuse. That self-sufficiency, hard and scornful, is gone, and in its place we now have a spirit of kindly forgiveness, the same shown to ourselves by the merciful Christ.

And lastly, our falls should cause our hearts to overflow with gratitude to God. When we had gone right over the precipice, He sought us out and brought us back to the security of the sheepfold. Only for His mercy at this moment we should be in hell!

Christ falls, and He would not have us be surprised or discouraged if we fall, too. Rather would He have us learn humility and gratitude-humility at the sight of what we were, and gratitude at the memory of what, through His understanding love, we have become, in spite of our falls, or perhaps because of them.

One thinks that Our Lady must have had difficulty in even recognising her divine Son. From her place at the corner of the street she stands and looks, as, bearing His own Cross, He goes forth to that place which is called Calvary. Is it possible that that bleeding, disfigured Man is He indeed? Even His Mother finds difficulty in recognising Him! Sin has wrought such havoc in the sinless Christ. He is here the Victim of sin, and consequently this road to Calvary is one of the best places to learn the real nature of sin.

When Mary looks into a soul in the state of sanctifying grace, she at once recognises thatsoul as her very own. God’s image, the image of “Mary’s Son, is impressed upon that soul, and Mary is quick to discern the family resemblance. But let mortal sin enter in, and at once there is disfigurement. No longer can Mary recognise the soul. That inner temple, “in which her Son had set up His abode, is now a den of thieves. There is darkness in the soul, and loneliness, and a feeling of being utterly forsaken. This follows inevitably after the first thrill of pleasure or excitement caused by the sin. Let me look well at Jesus as Mary looks at Him here, let me look, too, into a soul and see, as she does, the truly appalling change wrought in that soul by mortal sin.

It may appear strange at first sight that Our Lord should cause this keen suffering to His Mother when He might so easily have averted it from her. He was habitually so thoughtful for others. Thus He had compassion for another brokenhearted mother-the widow of Naim. And for His own Mother nothing but this apparent cruelty! Why has He not, for instance, so arranged things that Mary will be up at Nazareth during these terrible days, and know nothing about the Passion until it is all over? Why so much compassion for the widow of Naim, and such an entire absence of compassion for His own Mother? The answer is well worth our most serious consideration. He treats Mary thus, just precisely because He loves her much more than He loved the widow of Naim. Nobody was destined to follow Him as closely as she. For nobody was there planned such intimacy with Christ, and, therefore, for nobody was there reserved such a share in His sufferings.

It would be helpful, if we had space, to show that every single joy that entered Our Lady’s life, was balanced by a great sorrow. The Incarnation, the Nativity, the visit of the Magi, the blessing of holy Simeon, the holy familiarity of the Hidden Life-all these were Mary’s joys, but every one was accompanied by a sorrow. And now sorrow pierces her heart as she looks at her Son, here on the road to Calvary, the Victim of sin. But she does not wince. She prepares to follow Him even to the end, for she must drink to the dregs the chalice of sorrow, justbecause she is Christ’s dearest and most intimate companion and friend.

Each of the three evangelists who tells us about Simon of Cyrene dwells on the idea that force had to be used in order to induce him to carry the Cross with Our Blessed Lord. History repeats itself in every soul who tries to follow Christ closely. In every soul there is a craving for happiness, and Christ and Satan both promise to satisfy this craving. Briefly, Our Lord’s instructions for the attaining of happiness are: “Use violence (as Simon has to do here), and peace will follow.” Satan’s advice is diametrically opposed: “Yield,” he counsels. “Cease to control yourself. Gratify your passions and then you will taste the happiness you desire.” It may be worth while dwelling on each set of instructions.

Simon had to use force with himself. Are we to suppose that this act passed without its reward? Everything we know about Our Lord confirms us in the belief that before that journey was ended, Simon had experienced a peace to which he had hitherto been an utter stranger. “Take up My yoke . . . and you shall find peace.” How often one sees that divine promise fulfilled! You are struggling with a painful and humiliating temptation-be it impurity in its manifold forms, or drink, hatred, or bad temper. It is so easy to let go one’s hold! The longing steals over one to yield-just this once, and then never again! If the poor soul surrenders, what follows? Peace? No, but sorrow, and remorse, and disgust. A little force at first and all would have been well. A standing clear of the occasion of sin-shunning that person or place resolutely-and all this vain regret would have been avoided. It would have been such a joy to be able to look back and say: “Thank God, I held out! The struggle was indeed desperately hard, but now I am tasting the joys of victory.” This is the experience of every true follower of Christ. Like Simon, there will be times in his life when he has to use force, but, quick upon his doing so, there fills his soul the peace of God surpassing all understanding.

No man is so holy or zealous but that there come into his life times when he feels the fascination of temptation. But he trusts the promises of Christ. He knows that the temptation will not always be as strong as it is now. His past experience teaches him that sin turns to ashes as soon as it is touched. The struggle is certain to be followed by deep peace-on the one condition that he refuse all parley with the enemy, all verging towards the edge of the precipice.

The votaries of Satan also bear witness to the truth that sin brings only misery. But the pity is that they allow him to continue to dazzle them with a specious good. Why do they not learn that sin and worldliness, though they do indeed bring a violent spasm of enjoyment, still leave the soul unsatisfied and hungry? No sooner is one thrill over than the yearning soul races madly after another. And in this way life speeds past and the soul remains untaught. Old age comes on, and now the world does not want it any longer, and it has never learned to find its happiness in God. So there sets in a peevishness and dissatisfaction even greater than before, and death steals on and life is gone. People speak of what the man left, and God is asking what the man brought, and the poor votary of the world stands before the judgment-seat and looks at his hands, and finds them-empty. Now he wakes up, but only now, to realise that Satan is a liar and the father thereof. Life gone; innumerable opportunities lost; empty hands!

And our policy? Simon forced himself to take up the cross. Our soul, as we said in another place, is a piece of territory belonging toChrist. Nail up over that territory the notice: “Trespassers will be prosecuted.” Prosecute them relentlessly even though there must be war with self, for that war is certain to bring peace. “Take up My yoke . . . and you shall find peace in your souls.”

Itis easy to imagine Veronica’s ecstasy of joy and gratitude when, on returning home that evening, she opened up her veil and found impressed upon it the likeness of the Sacred Countenance. It is easy to picture her spreading out “that towel on the table, falling on her knees and reverently and prayerfully contemplating the features of the Great Sufferer. Later that night, as artists love to show, she called over to the house of John and shared her treasure with the Mother and other friends of Our Lord-a desolate little group they were, gazing long and lovingly on this image of Him Who was crucified.

Now when the angels look down upon a soul in grace, they marvel at its beauty, for such a soul is a reflection of God. They look and see, as Veronica and her friends looked upon this towel, the likeness of God impressed on that soul. That is why God loves souls. Just as a great artist will spend days and weeks working at a picture and will not rest satisfied until every finishing touch is given to it, so does God work upon His masterpiece-the soul of man. Indeed, so great is His concern about the soul that, not content with creating it to His own image and likeness, He actually makes it His dwellingplace. It is a temple of the living God. And this sight of a soul constitutes the wonder of the angels as they contemplate the works thus effected in the soul through the presence of God’s grace. In view of this, it is no wonder that the saints shudder at the remembrance of sin. Mortal sin shatters this beautiful image and expels God from His temple. Blinded by passion, man has had the insolence to sever the tie of love that bound his soul to God. The temple is in darkness. The stately edifice is a smoking ruin. The angels look down and see the havoc wrought. God’s masterpiece has been desecrated: the light of His Presence no longer gladdens the halls of that temple. It is the day of the angels” grief.

Meanwhile, what are the sentiments of the poor sinner? Our Lord shows him to us—the Prodigal Son in the pigsty trying to stave off the pangs of hunger with the husks of swine. It is only now, after passion has swept him off his feet, after he has tasted sin and found it to be poison, that the poor soul begins to think straight. There are three distinct stages in his train of thought. First, he thinks of the utter misery to which sin has reduced him. “I am perishing with hunger”! The thrill of recklessness has spent itself, and there follows this inevitable remorse. “It is an evil and a bitter thing for thee to have left the Lord thy God.” How could it be otherwise? Sin banishes God from the soul: a sense of forsakeness must follow “I am perishing with hunger”!

Secondly, the sinner begins to compare his present misery with his former happiness. “How many hired servants in my father’s house abound with bread”! What peace there is in a man’s life until sin raises its ugly head! All the anxiety it brings! All the torture of conscience! Dissatisfaction with everyone and everything; no power of concentration. And he used to be so happy, so easy to satisfy, so ready to lend a helping hand. Sin has brought about a sad change indeed since those happy days that used to be sinless.

Every sinner feels those two sentiments of the Prodigal- disappointment and regret. But here many a sinner makes his fatal mistake. At this stage it is the devil’s business to make the sinner believe that his case is hopeless; and he may as well settle down to the inevitable. That is the one fatal, irremediable attitude. The Prodigal drew the correct conclusion:

“Everything has gone wrong: therefore,I will arise and go back to my father.” Well said! At the first sign of repentance the loving father rushes out to embrace the repentant son. At once the image is restored in all its beauty. At once the temple is rebuilt in the soul, for the divine Architect is not hampered by laws of space and time. Once more the angels look down, and this is the day of their rejoicing.”So I say to you that there shall be joy before the angels of God upon one sinner doing penance.”

Sickness or pain often makes us very exacting. When we are ill, or in mental anxiety, or pressed down by some unexpected disappointment, we consider ourselves quite justified in looking for special consideration from our friends. We tend to become resentful if they do not listen carefully to lengthy accounts of our troubles, if they do not apply or suggest remedies, if they leave us after a short visit only, when we want them to stay. One idea looms large before our minds-because we are undergoing this trial, others must bear with us, must give us every liberty to complain, to be irritable, to air our grievances, real or imaginary. A throbbing brain, an aching wound, a bad headache or toothache entitles us fully, we maintain, to indulge in our desire for notice and special sympathy.

There is another way of reacting at such a time. One has seen it often-a marvellous gentleness and thoughtfulness for others, exercised in the midst of great personal sorrow or trial. Unselfishness, beautiful and to be admired at all times, never shines out with brighter lustre than when shown during one’s own suffering. One sees it in the saints, and one realises that they have learned the art from Christ in His Passion.

If anybody might be excused for becoming “wrapped up” in His sufferings, it surely is this bleeding Christ, scourged, crowned with thorns, bearing His own Cross. What do we find actually? Throughout these torments He is preoccupied, not with Himself, but with others. We have space for only a few illustrations. Last night, down in the garden, He spoke to His enemies: “You seek Jesus? I am He. If therefore you seek Me,let these go their way.” He will gladly face whatever they have prepared for Him, but He must not compromise His friends-”let these go their way.” Here again in this Eighth Station is the same thoughtfulness: “Daughters of Jerusalem, weep not over Me, but over yourselves and your children.” He is always thinking of somebody else, and even in the midst of excruciating tortures. Follow Him up to Calvary, and the same beautiful thoughtfulness lights up the gloom of that death-chamber. Even His enemies unknowingly pay tribute to it: “He saved others, Himself He cannot save.” And His answer, that marvellous prayer for mercy, shows Christ again full of concern for others-”Father, forgive them: they know not what they do.” “Now, there stood by the Cross of Jesus His Mother.” He thinks of her, too, and the sword that is plunged deep into her soul. He must make the best provision He can for her. Beside her is standing the lilysouled John. “Behold thy Mother; behold thy son.” Unselfish, thoughtful for others all through the Passion, one of His last acts is to absolve a repentant sinner. “Amen I say to thee, this day thou shalt be with Me in Paradise.” Jesus is always thinking of somebody else.

The contrast between Him and ourselves! Our forgetfulness of others and preoccupation with ourselves when we suffer pinpricks, and His utter self-forgetfulness and thoughtfulness for others, when he is crowned, scourged and crucified! His silence about His own pains, and our readiness to speak of ours! In a word, His utter unselfishness placed side by side with our selfishness! This is one of the many lessons of this Eighth Station.

And this self-forgetfulness is an infallible rule for happiness. We complain, and our very complaints make us the more irritable. Let me lay myself out deliberately to make others happy, and I shall make the gladsome discovery that it has become impossible to keep happiness out of my own life. If when nature bids me become self-centred I deliberately train myself to think of the needs and trials of others (especially those I do not like), I have mastered the lesson of this Station. It is a lesson to be learned slowly, but it is certain that every page turned in the volume, every new chapter understood in the lesson of unselfishness, will prove to be an advance in the ways of lasting happiness.

Our Lord told His Apostles that they were to regard themselves in the world as “lambs in the midst of wolves.” That phrase has a happy application to the divine Lamb of God Himself in the Sacred Passion. Here in this Tenth Station they surround Him, just like ravening wolves howling for their prey, ready to tear Him to pieces, their eyes glistening with an unholy eagerness as they look forward to this slaughter. And, all the more marked because of the contrast, there is the evident self-composure of the Lamb, His marvellous patience, His readiness to allow them to strip Him and offer Him up as Victim of their rage. The brutality of these wolves, and the self-possession of the Lamb has fallen into their clutches—let us see how these two thoughts may help our understanding of the Tenth Station.

The wolves are but the instruments of sin, and sin always brutalises. Sometimes even the sinner’s very appearance changes sadly, and you can read in his face the beastliness of the life he is leading. The creature who, having deadened his own conscience, tricks innocence into the ways of vice, knows well he is a brute. The creature who is content to wallow in the gutter of a drunkard’s existence is lowering himself to the level of a brute. Even in such a degraded life there will come moments when conscience will assert itself and the sinner be smitten with shame. Despite all his fine arguments for his sin, he is perfectly aware that in reality he is a fallen star, destined indeed to shine in God’s firmament, but, fallen now from that high eminence, he seems like to be besmirched and extinguished and finally buried forever in the depths of the cesspool of sin. Sin brutalises indeed, and we see it in this Station.

In sharp contrast with their brutality there shines forth the beautiful self-possession of Our Lord. How a single gesture of anger or impatience on His part, however excusable it might be, would mar the loveliness of the events of the great drama! That wonderful patience of His is due, in the first place, to the fact that He is suffering all this voluntarily. For reasons we have seen, the Father wills the Son to suffer, and the Son’s Will is absolutely one with the Will of the Father. Let me look into the Sacred Heart and see there, stamped indelibly, the three words: Fiat Voluntas Tua! So His patience throughout is accounted for, first of all, by His love for the Father.

It is accounted for, too, by His love for us. It is common experience that when a man is immersed in some subject he is liable to become forgetful of many of the ordinary needs and conventions of life. A keen student will often forget to take his food; a soldier in the heat of fight will not advert to the wound he has received; an author will stare in amazement at his watch when he discovers that he has sat at his desk until long after midnight. Now, it is indeed true that Our Lord was vividly conscious of every pain and insult in the Passion, but it is also true that He is occupied throughout with an even more absorbing task. His task is to change these men about Him here, and those for whom they would stand in subsequent ages. Annas and Caiphas, Pilate, Herod-all those had been brutalised by sin. Satan had entered into them, and Christ’s Passion was to be a mighty exorcism. Annas and Caiphas, prototypes of the corruptors of innocence, had to be “Christified”-that corrupting influence destroyed and Christ’s love enthroned in its place. Judas, lover of money and the world, Christ longed to change, but Judas erected strong barriers against the tidal wave of Christ’s mercy. Pilate, slave of human respect, and Herod, creature of the gutter-let a realisation of the Passion seize hold of them-and the change Christ longs to effect must surely follow.

The divine Exorcist is still anxious about His task, for Annas and Caiphas, Judas Iscariot, Pilate and Herod, and the rest, still live and still thirst for His blood. If we might coin words, Our divine Lord’s task is to “de-Herodise” men-to exorcise them of the spirit of impurity. Or to “de-Pilatise” them-to drive far from men’s souls the base insincerity, the hypocrisy of the world. Or to “de-Judasise” them-to expel from their hearts the passion of avarice. Or to “de-Annasise” or Caiphasise” them-to destroy in them the contagion that corrupts others and leads them into sin.

Holy Church enjoins fasting and prayer on her priests before she permits them to exercise the office of exorcist. What pain, physical and mental, the divine Exorcist had to pay for the exercise of His office! And withal man, endowed with free will, can nullify the effect of the Passion in himself. He can prefer to remain a Judas or a Caiphas or a Pilate or a Herod.

He can sit down at the banquet-table of angels or he can crawl with the swine. Omnipotence taxes its powers to exorcise him, but he must give his free co-operation with grace. When he does, then Judas is driven forth, or Pilate or Herod or Annas or Caiphas. Then Christ enters into him. Then his soul becomes a temple. Then the den of thieves is a tabernacle. Then Christ’s task is done, the exorcism is effected.

In his book of “Spiritual Exercises” St. Ignatius speaks of three kinds of humility, and St. Paul, summarising the entire history of the Passion, writes that Our Lord”humbled Himself becoming obedient unto death, even to the death of the Cross.” There is a link between the doctrine of these two great lovers of Christ which may appositely form the subject matter of our consideration of the Eleventh Station. We have first to explain what St. Ignatius means by the third kind or “degree” of humility. In general, humility is the virtue which makes me subject myself to God, and the “third degree” is the highest form of this subjection. Suppose two courses of action are open to me-one of them pleasant to my natural taste and the other unpleasant, but neither of them sinful. If I choose the pleasant one, God will receive a certain amount of glory by my action. If I choose the unpleasant one, He will receive, in the hypothesis of St. lgnatius, not a greater glory, but the very same He would have received had I chosen the pleasant course. If I am established in this third degree of humility, my habitual bias will be towards the harder course, and I shall habitually choose it, unless I am convinced that the more pleasant course would give God greater glory than the unpleasant one. The worldly man, faced with something hard, says: Why should I take this? i.e. his natural reaction is to escape from it and to look for arguments against it. For the disciple of Christ the mere fact that a thing is unpleasant is at once a powerful argument in its favour, and his reaction is: Why should I not take it? He demands arguments to prove that he should not have it; not, as the naturally-minded man will demand, arguments why he should. There is a whole world of difference between the two frames of mind.

The motive underlying the philosophy of the Third Degree stares me in the face when I see Christ in this Station extending His limbs for crucifixion. “He humbled Himself becoming obedient unto death.” He chose suffering, the hard thing, when it was not necessary, and that fact is motive sufficient and super-abundant, for His follower to be biased in favour of what is hard too.

This mentality teaches me to see in great trials as well as in petty annoyances “that shape of His hand outstretched car- essingly.” Great trials-the death of a dear friend or relative; a lingering illness; a disagreeable and difficult member in the family; an unhappy marriage; failure to pass an examination upon which much depended. Petty annoyances-a fidgety person beside me in Church; an uncomfortable seat in the bus; a pen or a latchkey mislaid; the silly story told against me; that cut I gave myself when shaving! Nothing is too small to offer to God.

In view of all the sin rife in the world, there is a crying need for saints-not merely pious folk, but men and women fired with zeal for Jesus Christ and souls. St. Paul points in this Station to the Model of all sanctity.”He humbled Himself.”

He deliberately chose what was hard, although He might have given the same glory to His heavenly Father by saving the world without such cost to Himself. Everyone aiming at sanctity must do likewise, and, in his teaching about the Third Degree, St. Ignatius shows him how to do it and why.

The life of Our divine Lord, judged by the world’s standards, is a complete failure, and, in His death on Calvary, that life of failure reaches its climax. He had gone around doing good, healing all manner of diseases, and now those who benefitted most by His kindness have become His bitterest enemies. He had preached the Kingdom of Heaven with a divine forcefulness and eloquence, but His pupils have remained hard of heart and dull of intellect. A few friends He gathered around Him-men whom He taught and trained with very special care-but in His hour of direst need these, too, have all run away from Him although only a while ago they swore they were ready to die for Him. And, if His friends are a cause of failure, His enemies are triumphant on Calvary. Annas and Caiphas stand here before the dying Christ and point at Him the finger of scorn, “Vah, Thou that destroyest the temple of God and in three days dost rebuild it! Come down from the Cross!” but apparently He was not able to come down; He was only a dreamer of dreams after all.

But not yet has He drained the chalice of failure. All through His life, in times of obstinacy and contradiction on the part of His enemies or in times of isolation from His friends, Jesus had always one unfailing source of comfort. It was the sense of companionship with His Father. Oftentimes, in the stillness of night, you would meet Him, making His way up the slope of a mountain, and there He would kneel in prayer with His Father. There in prayer He would pour out the love of His Sacred Heart for the Father. There He would speak to the Father of the burning desire He had for the Father’s glory. There He would plead with the Father to pour out abundant graces on men’s souls. But now, to-day on Calvary. even that one prop of support is taken away from Him. This is bitterness indeed, that the Father should withdraw His protecting hand and permit the mob and the soldiery to vent their rage against His divine Son. This is the culmination of failure, and out of the darkness that surrounds Him, Our Lord sends forth the piteous cry: “My God, My God, why hast Thou forsaken Me?”

It is very well worthy of note that that same failure is reproduced in Christ’s mystical body, the Church. How many times in nineteen centuries her enemies have told the world that she was dead! Like Annas and Caiphas, they pointed to her in derision in what seemed to be her dying hour. They seduced her own children to betray her, even as Judas was seduced. They scourged her and crowned her with thorns. They nailed her to a cross, and even drove the spear into her side. They came down from Calvary sounding the trumpet over her, and proclaiming that at last she was dead.

That has been her history for nineteen centuries. And in our own day men’s pride has reached its high-water mark, for today men are marching in millions across the world with the avowed purpose of exterminating God. Religion is the opium of the people. Wherefore, crush religion wherever it is found. Crush God. Wade, if necessary, knee-deep in blood and carnage, provided all knowledge and love of Jesus of Nazareth be driven out of men’s lives. The Catholic Church is a failure? For nineteen centuries men have been wrapped about in a fog of superstition, and it has been reserved for the high-priests of modern atheism to lead them out into the full light of day!

Like her divine Founder, the church is on the Cross. Perhaps, like Him, too, she may be inclined to call out through the darkness, and ask if even God has forsaken her. For all that she looks with calm assurance on her enemies. Over Calvary there broke a ray of light when the clouds parted and the Christ Who had been a failure rose triumphant and entered His Father’s kingdom. That she too, is following Him there; that she too, is certain of ultimate success-that assurance never for a moment falters in her breast. Why does it not occur to her enemies that her survival in spite of the fierce persecution of all these centuries is a most cogent argument for her divinity? Could any merely human institution have survived what she has survived?

The “failure” of Christ and of His Church is a source of solid comfort to a man when he is inclined to be depressed at the sight of his own failures. The sight of Him drives home the truth that what He wants is not success, but one’s best. It is not so much that we achieve as what we become that He regards. In the process of becoming Christlike we may perhaps, have to change our ideas about failure and success. It was at the very moment that the world was proclaiming Him a failure that Our Lord was mounting to the pinnacle of success. For Calvary, indeed, is the triumph of failure.

In the hour of His “failure” Jesus is suffering, and He is praying. By prayer and suffering the earnest soul is to become “Christified.” In the eyes of men a Christlike life may seem a failure, may seem to achieve little or nothing. On a life of prayer and of suffering lovingly borne Jesus looks and pronounces it blessed. Than His benediction there is no greater success.

Many “hard sayings” have fallen from the lips of Our Saviour as we followed Him up here to Calvary. Human nature, He showed us, must be transformed by grace, so that what is repellent to us by nature has little by little to become an object of love. Poor frail human nature is much inclined to quail before the stern, uncompromising programme, and, like the Jews of old, to complain: “This saying is hard, and who can hear it”?

But there is the comforting side, too. In this life of Jesus, Who is now lying deadin Mary’s arms, there are two phases. The first phase began some thirty years ago, when He crept into His world amidst the snow and cold of Bethlehem; the second phase begins here on Calvary, and will go on throughout eternity. All those years of the first phase He has had suffering, humiliations, poverty, ingratitude-things so difficult for human nature. But now the first phase is over, and already He is entering upon the joys of Paradise. Calvary is the beginning, not the end, after all.

When the poor soul, wearied out with suffering, purified by humiliation, at last drags itself to Calvary, it must be unburthened of its cross, it must lie down and be crucified, it, must, like Jesus, die on the cross. Then does it complete the first phase of the life of the great Model. No sooner does He die than the clouds break and the light streams down on its astonished gaze, and it sees. The ravishing delights of heaven! The promises of Christ fulfilled! The second phase for it too, begins, and for it too, that second phase will be without end. “How sweet it is to die,” exclaims the saintly Curé of Ars, after one has lived upon the cross”! And perhaps we may be permitted to add: “How sweet it is to live after one has died upon the cross”!

For, if we have been faithful in the work of reproducing the suffering phase of His life, we shall now enter upon the second phase. And that means, He tells us, that He will say to us on the shore of eternity: “Well done, good and faithful servant. . . . .enter into the joy of thy Lord. . . . Possessthe kingdom.” “Enter into” the joy. We shall see Him face to face -no longer through a glass darkly. We shall know Him, and, by necessary consequence, we shall love Him. But He is infinitely knowable, so that all eternity will not be long enough to know all there is to be known. And love will increase as knowledge increases. Hence, an eternally-increasing knowledge begetting an eternally-increasing love-this is what Our Lord promises when He bids the soul “enter into the joy of its Lord.” But there is more. “Possess” the kingdom—a word implying a giltedged guarantee of security. Once enter upon the second phase of Christ’s life, once save my soul, and nothing by any possible combination of circumstances can endanger by a hair’s breadth the security of my possession. I hold no such guarantee here. Today I may be wealthy and to-morrow a pauper. Today I may enjoy splendid health, and tomorrow I may be racked with pain. Friends and family unite lovingly around me today, and tomorrow death or disgrace may separate us. But all that is changed the moment I enter heaven. Just as one of the most appalling miseries of hell is the absolute certainty that. there never can be a moment’s respite, so one of the thrilling joys of heaven is the absolute certainty that no person can ever wrest this treasure from me, no circumstance ever possibly arise which can endanger my possession.

No doubt, when the cross presses upon us, it is not always easy to find comfort in the thought of a heaven which, then at any rate, seems so distant. For all that, heaven is no fairy-tale. When the first phase is ended, the torch of faith will be extinguished and, with the light of glory, we shall look upon Him Whose hand we have held so trustfully all through the dark night. The first glimpse of that Vision Beatific will flood our hearts with a love ineffable. It was worth while toiling through the dark night to come at the end to a dawn like this.

Does Our Blessed Lady show much external sign of the anguish that consumes her as she walks after the funeral of her divine Son? Artists have depicted her swooning away, her veil blows wildly about her, her arms extended in grief. But we are told that she”stood” by the Cross of Jesus, a word which would seem to militate somewhat against these conceptions of poets and artists. One thinks that the truth is that Mary’s grief was far too deep for any such external demonstration. One can recall a mother standing at the graveside of her child. If you were to judge by external signs you would say she was listless and cold, for she is dry eyed and apparently indifferent to the boy’s death. The truth is that sorrow is eating her heart out. Could she but weep she would have an outlet and relief, but the grief is pent-up and the tears will not come. Some such sorrow as this fills the soul of Mary as she walks home with John and Magdalene after the funeral.

And, if we might reverently inquire into the thoughts that are occupying her mind, we would surmise that Mary realises from what she has seen on Calvary, that there is one evil, only one, and sin is its name. Sin murdered her Son today. She sees there is one happiness in this world-acceptation of suffering from the motive of love. She considers that there is one hope for man as he makes his way through the darkness of Calvary. It is unshaken confidence in the promises of her divine Son. In spite of weariness and disgust, he carries on, for he is waiting for that promise, of all promises the most wonderful:

“IF THE GRAIN OF WHEAT DIE . . . IT WILLBRING FORTH MUCH FRUIT.”

All along the road he is straining for the welcome home: “Enter into the joy of the Lord . . . possess the kingdom.” Lastly, Our Lady knows that for her children, if they are to attain to the fulfilment of this promise, there must be companionship with her. By her side walk John and Magdalene-John whose lily-white soul never lost its purity, and Magdalene who fell indeed into the mire, but was lifted up by God’s grace. Purity is the indispensable condition for companionship with Mary. It may be that, through God’s mercy, we can walk with her on the side of John. That will be our place if we have never lost our baptismal innocence. But, even if we have, we can walk with Magdalene in the way of reparation and penance, for Magdalene, too, is an inseparable companion of the immaculate Mary.

These are the truths that have come to Our blessed Lady on her journey to Calvary. These are the truths, too, her Son has taught us as we were doing the Stations. These truths and the philosophy they contain sound arrant nonsense to many. Can we apply any test to discover the practical value of Christ’s philosophy of life? There is, indeed, a searching test-the test of experience. Men are found to order their lives by the principles of Christ, and it is their universal experience and their most emphatic assertion that His promises do indeed stand the test. “Take up My yoke and you shall find peace to your souls.”

************

Dominic Barberi, C. P

AN APOSTLE OF ENGLAND

BY REV. EDMUND THORPE, C. P

INDEX

CHAPTER ONE

On September 4, 1813, Dominic Barberi, then 21 years of age, stood in the dusty Piazza of Viterbo, a town at the foot of Monte Cimino, 54 miles north-west of Rome. He was deep in thought, almost unconscious of the jostling crowds around him who were dispersing after the annual procession in honour of St. Rose, the patron of their city. The sun shone from a cloudless sky. Its heat reflected from the lava blocks with which the Piazza was paved in the thirteenth century, was fierce and overpowering. But neither the movement of the people around him, nor the heat beating up into his face, nor the tumult of voices, snatches of song or cries of recognition, could distract his attention from the problem that was agitating his mind. He had reached a crisis in his life. He had to make a decision which, he felt, would be irrevocable. The question was: should he go to his older brother, Salvatore, who was waiting for him as a matter of course, or should he seek out in her accustomed place the girl whose friendship he had for a long time deliberately but more or less secretly cultivated?

Dominic Barberi, in his peasant homespuns, though scrubbed and polished for the festa, would have been the last to consider himself a catch for any girl. He had too much native intelligence and good sense not to know his own limitations. But to marry or not to marry was not exactly the question that was exercising his mind that day-marriage was not just then practicable. It was rather the perennial problem of the conflict between instinct and conscience, between nature and grace. And his ultimate decision was in perfect accord with the whole tenor of his life until that hour.

* * * *

Dominic was born on June 22, 1792, at Palanzana, near Viterbo. His mother was then in her fiftieth year and he was the youngest of a large family. His father was a farmer owning a few acres of land. Hard work from morning until night, frugal living and few pleasures, enabled him to keep his head above water financially and maintain his wife and children in security and independence. But Dominic scarcely knew him, for he died in 1795.

Signora Maria Antonia Barberi, though in delicate health and often sick, managed, with the help of the elder children, to keep the farm going. She faced her trials and difficulties with a sensible cheerfulness which was later very observable in Dominic, A hundred years of melancholy and brooding, she used to say, would never pay off a penny of debt. No task was too humble for her. In after years when anyone would be bold enough to show Dominic particular honour, he would say quietly but emphatically that his mother had been a woodcutter on Monte Cimino. But what was in every way more important, she was a good woman who showed her children a fine example of Christian virtue. Moreover, she had a deep devotion to the Mother of God and found much personal consolation and help in the saying of the Rosary. But she also died while Dominic was still a child, and thus within a few years he was left doubly an orphan.

The loss of hismother made a deep impression on Dominic’s mind. In his “Autobiography,” which was written when he was 30 and from which these details concerning his early life are gleaned, he recalled that while she was still alive a Capuchin friar once said to him “Do you love Our Lady? You know she loves you more than your mother does!” That remark, remembered and pondered over, set the seal on that devotion to the Queen of Heaven which he had undoubtedly first learnt from the teaching and example of his mother. It was a devotion that grew to be a bulwark against temptation in the days of his adolescence and an outstanding characteristic of his sanctity in later years. “On the very day on which my mother died,” he wrote in his “Colloquio celia Santa Vergine,” “I cried out to you, O my mother, scarcely knowing what I did, and I said: “Virgin most holy, you see that I have no longer an earthly mother!

Therefore, in you I hope, in you Itrust, and from this day I take you as my mother!”“

It must not be thought, however, that Dominic was one of those highly-favoured souls whom God from the beginning of their lives sets apart for His service. He was a perfectly ordinary child indistinguishable from the many other children in Palanzana except, perhaps, for his ugliness and for an attraction for reading wholly incomprehensible to his elders. Indeed, he may be said to have taught himself to read. Before he was 10 he had spelled his way laboriously through a variety of books. In after years he expressed regret that such reading matter had fallen into his hands, for the good derived from it was more than counter-balanced by the harm wrought in prematurely awakening curiosity and over-exciting his imagination.

But whatever chances Dominic might have had of indulging at his ease his taste for reading and of satisfying his thirst for knowledge, had his mother lived, he had very few after her death when he went to stay with her brother, Bartolomeo Pacelli, at Merlano. Though Bartolomeo loved him very much and took great care of him, he was a man whose vision of the world was more or less limited to his farm. He could see no purpose in book-learning for a boy who was destined by circumstances to spend his days ploughing, sowing and reaping.

So during the 11 years Dominic lived at Merlano he received no formal education. At 10 he was old enough, it was believed, to rise early and accompany his uncle to the fields. When other boys in more affluent circumstances sat at their desks in school, he was hard at work in the open air, in winter with his feet deep in snow and mud, in spring with all nature around him in tune with the song in his heart, in summer under a broiling sun, in autumn when the empurpling olives were ripe for the gatherer and the grapes hung full on their stalks. Not that these hours of aching toil were altogether intellectually unprofitable. Near to the heart of things he learnt much that no masters or books could teach him: dogged perseverance in the face of difficulties and the habit of patiently waiting for results.

Yet even in such unpropitious circumstances and under the mildly disapproving eye of his uncle, Dominic eagerly seized on the few opportunities he had of reading, stolen minutes, hoarded half-hours. But books were hard to come by. It was natural, perhaps, that in a village such as Merlano the taste for reading seldom called for anything better than love stories. At all events, they were the sort that, as a rule, came Dominic’s way when anything printed was as grist to his mill. However, not all of them were entirely worthless. He came upon some of the most enchanting love tales in Italian literature and was caught up into the romantic lives of the heroes and heroines of “Orlando Furioso” and “Gerusalemme Liberata.”

Whatever good effect the reading of Ariosto and Tasso has on mature minds, it had on the whole a bad moral effect on Dominic’s. At least, that was his own opinion. In retrospect, he made no distinction between those world- famous poets and the authors of the trashy romances he bought or obtained on loan. They all equally lured him into an unreal world in which, as he confessed, he spent nights and days imagining himself like a great warrior or a great lover winning his lady love from a host of valiant competitors. In following the fortunes of Rinaldo, Angelica and Armida, he gradually became possessed by the passions that were the impulses behind their romantic adventures. But eventually, as usually happens in such instances, he left the land of dreams and took a step towards reality. After the manner of Dante he chose a village Beatrice, the sister of a friend, and for a year worshipped her more or less from afar. But if he did make any attempts to win her affection he was not successful, for she gave her heart to another.

That episode may be taken as marking the beginning of an intense struggle in his soul which went on for several years. He was good and bad by turns, but neither very good nor very bad. Whenever he moved further than usual in one direction there was a violent reaction towards the other. Thus when his Beatrice married he was apparently not in the least disappointed. On the contrary, he was so relieved at being released from what he called “an occasion of sin” that he said a Te Deum in thanksgiving.

While one must not read too much into his own descriptions of his state of mind at this or any other time, for when they were written he had advanced far along the road to perfection and his soul had grown very sensitive to evil, nevertheless, it is quite certain that nature achieved many victories, even if they were only minor victories, over grace. Though he went to the Sacraments every month and said the Rosary regularly, he did so, he says, only through routine. He was not interested in spiritual things. And thus, at times, his mind became so pre-occupied with worldly and quasisensual thoughts that there was room in it for little else. “It seemed to me,” he wrote, “that to be devout and pious was nonsense and that only those who had achieved fame in war or literature were worthy of esteem. I reached the point of losing my regard for our holy religion and actually came to the conclusion that the world had grown worse after it had become Christian.” Though he did not overtly commit mortal sin, and inwardly calmed his conscience with the reflection that he was not as bad as other young men he knew, he thought about sin to the point of lamenting that God not only forbade the doing of evil but also any deliberate and pleasurable thinking about it as well.

At this time, owing to the suppression of the religious Orders following the seizure of the Papal States by Napoleon, the Provincial of the Passionists, Father Joachim, was living privately in Viterbo. He was a learned and holy man but inclined to severity. Having seen him by accident in the street, Dominic thought it would be a good idea to go to confession to him. He went and accused himself of his usual catalogue of sins and among them of taking part in improper conversations. He received a kindly warning and was given absolution. He went again and accused himself of similar sins. This time Father Joachim was a different man. He spoke very sternly to Dominic and sent him away without absolution.

An unexpected shock to one’s pride often opens the eyes of the mind. Dominic always tried to be honest with himself. Such a rebuff made him reflect that perhaps there was something fundamentally wrong with the conduct of his life. He would have to do better, he concluded. Nevertheless, he could not bring himself to go back to Father Joachim. Fortunately, Father Joachim departed from Viterbo soon after and Dominic then felt free to go to confession to another Passionist, Father Joseph, who, for similar reasons, had been living privately in his native city. Father Joseph was a man of a different stamp and in him Dominic found an understanding friend. He was treated gently and given every encouragement. He was not only told to be good, but shown the way. He was taught how to make mental prayer. He reached at times a degree of fervour that made him long to suffer something in union with the Passion of Christ and the Sorrows of Our Lady. It seemed that he had gained the mastery over himself and that there would be no return to his former ways.

Dominic was now 20 years of age, as ungainly as ever and short in stature. From dawn until dark he worked on his uncle’s farm. Now and then he helped on neighbouring farms and on Sundays and feast days he sometimes went into Viterbo. Life in general was undisturbed and peaceful. The noise of the great political events then agitating Europe did not reach his little corner of the earth except in whispers. He was, therefore, greatly surprised and alarmed when he received an official intimation that he had come of age for military service for which a drawing of lots would be held shortly.

Dominic’s alarm did not arise from lack of courage. He was never a coward. But to be a soldier in those days meant only one thing: fighting for Napoleon-for the invader who had entered Rome and carried off the Pope into captivity. To be a warrior with sword and lance in the Ages of Faith was one thing; to be a soldier in an army attacking the rights and interests of the Church was quite another matter. But since, humanly speaking, there was no way out of the difficulty, Dominic betook himself to earnest prayer. According to his own account, some time later he had a dream in which he was instructed, he believed, to enroll himself in the Confraternity of the Holy Rosary. This he did immediately, for it was besides very much in conformity with his own special devotional bent. Whatever his lapses may have been, his love for the Mother of God had never suffered an eclipse, and not long after this time he made a vow to propagate the practice of saying the Rosary. Then on the evening before the drawing of lots, he felt inspired to make a vow to become a Passionist as soon as the religious Orders were re-established. Next morning he drew the highest number, which was 123, and was at once declared exempt.

Naturally, he was immensely relieved and pleased. No doubt one of the first things he did was to go to a church and thank God for so remarkable an answer to his prayers. But somehow there crept into his joy a sentiment he looked back on with dismay and shame when he was writing his “Autobiography.” He began to experience, he says, a sense of pleasure in the fact that others had not been as lucky as he, including one young man who had of late been showing an interest in a girl on whom he himself had been bestowing a secret but quite lawful affection at least up to the time he had made a vow to become a Passionist.

This was the beginning of another violent conflict in Dominic’s soul. It invaded even his dreams. In them he saw himself condemned and cast into hell for not fulfilling his vow to consecrate his life to God. In his perplexity he took his brother, Salvatore, into his confidence and he introduced him to a holy Frenchman then living in Viterbo. But neither his frightening dreams nor their wise counsels succeeded in helping him to break his attachment to the girl. It seems, however, that by this time his uncle knew something of the matter and was not displeased to see the beginning of an arrangement which fell in with his own ideas concerning Dominic’s future. On her side, the girl was being openly encouraged by her mother to use whatever charms she possessed to get herself married. But her charms were few. In after years Dominic expressed amazement at his stupidity in being enamoured of one so scantily endowed with physical attractions. She had neither beauty, nor stature nor grace of movement. Nevertheless, she was, he says, in his thoughts night and day. He silenced his conscience with the reflection that although he was not just then in a position to marry, he could wait for her as Jacob did for Rachel. In his “Autobiography,” he notes with quiet humour that became very characteristic of him in after years, that he did not realise at the time that he was no Jacob nor was his beloved a Rachel.

This interior struggle lasted for five or six months. He gives a very clear picture of the vacillating state of his mind when he relates that while waiting for her under the shade of a tree, he used to say the Rosary but “with distractions such as anyone can imagine,” and that after making up his mind to give her up he used to convince himself that it was necessary to tell her so in person, with the result that he used to leave her with renewed promises of everlasting affection and with arrangements made for further meetings.

And then came St. Rose’s day in Viterbo. The force of his natural inclination on that occasion was so great that his victory over himself gave him a mastery he never afterwards lost Though he met the girl again he did not deflect in the least either from the path of virtue or from his intention to give himself wholly to the service of God. All his leisure time he now spent in practices of devotion and in studying a Latin Bible with the aid of a dictionary. He had no idea when the religious Orders would be re-established and, consequently, did not know when the way would be open to him to become a Passionist. He was content to wait in patience for the hour appointed by Divine Providence.

CHAPTER TWO

Twenty-seven years or so later, that is, about the middle of November, 1840, Father Dominic Barberi sailed up the Thames to London. He was dressed in the shapeless outdoor garments then worn by secular priests on the English Mission. It was the first journey he made otherwise than in his religious habit, and he had laughingly remarked on setting out that he supposed the good God would recognise him in such clothes.

It was a bleak and dismal day, but nothing could overshadow the joy and exultation in his heart, neither the cold nor the fog nor the unfriendly curiosity of the people. The only thing that mattered just then was that at long last his dream had come true.

That night he slept in a soft bed at Portman Square, London, in the house of a friend of the Passionists, Mrs. Canning, a convert daughter of William Spencer, second son of Lord Charles Spencer. Next day he went on to Oscott College, an ecclesiastical seminary six miles or so north of Birmingham. There he remained for a little over a month learning from personal experience that his own burning enthusiasm for the conversion of England was shared by few. Apart from Bishop Wiseman, then President of the College, and Father Spencer, son of Earl Spencer, who had been received into the Church nearly 11 years before, none of the professorial staff gave him more than a polite welcome. And even Wiseman, who had invited him to England for the purpose of establishing the Passionists there, though full of zeal and able to plan in broad outlines, lacked foresight in regard to immediate practical details.

So Father D ominic, looking out of his window across the gorse and moorland shrouded in winter’s gloom, could easily have become a prey to melancholy and succumbed to feelings of frustration. But nothing could ever extinguish the fires of his enthusiasm or damp his zeal. He was too conscious of that long series of providential events that had led him so near to his heart’s desire. He was unshakeable in his conviction that God had marked him out to preach the truths of Faith to the people of England.

* * *. *

Dominic Barbed entered the Congregation of the Passion within a few months of its re-establishment by Plus VII in June; 1814. He was allowed to retain his own name, but in accordance with the custom of the Passionists he added to it his particular devotion, and was therefore officially known as Dominic of the Mother of God.

Though in the past he had, at times, thought of becoming a priest, he had put the idea out of his head as unrealisable and was received into the Novitiate House as a prospective brother. One day during his postulancy which lasted six months, he went into the church to pray at Our Lady’s Altar while the rest of the Community were at table. As he was praying he began to wonder how the heavenly promise made to him in the preceding year was going to be fulfilled. (“One day-I think it was towards the end of 1813-while I was at prayer, I heard a voice saying to me: “I have chosen you to announce the truths of Faith to many peoples.” “) He did not know whether he was to be a priest or a brother or where he was to exercise his apostolate. China and America came into his mind. Then, in the flick of an eyelid, as he said himself, he understood “not by an internal locution or indefinite words, but in a more elevated manner which it is impossible todescribe, and which cannot be conceived by anyone who has not experienced it,” that he was not to be a brother but a priest, and that the field of his apostolate would be the north-east of Europe and especially England. And, he added, he would as soon have doubted his own existence as doubted the reality of that divine communication.

That happened in September or October, 1814. Not long afterwards, the Master of Novices, astonished at the ease with which he understood the Latin of the New Testament which was read before meals in the refectory, put him through an examination, and still more astonished at the result recommended him to the Father Provincial as one who had more than enough brains to begin studying for the priesthood. He had no doubt found out the truth of what Father Joseph had written to the Father General from Viterbo, that Dominic “though uneducated was a youth of the greatest virtue and of singular intellectual acumen.”

Thus began Dominic’s training for his promised apostolate. His novitiate over, he set himself to his studies with an ardour that carried him easily over the difficulties that normally face one who in such circumstances lacks a fundamental education. His taste for reading now stood him in good stead. Soon he outstripped all his companions and in the end acquired a reputation for the width of his learning and the profundity of his thought. His industry was immense. Before 1840 he had written at least 15 considerable treatises on philosophical, theological and ascetical subjects as well as a host of lesser works. He was the first, in Rome, at all events, to detect the errors of Felicite de Lamennais, then at the height of his popularity. He had a most fertile mind and his head was so full of Ideas that they poured out on paper in a flood. And yet it has to be remembered that these literary works were the fruit of what may be called his leisure hours, for after his ordination in 1821 he was always more than occupied as Professor of Philosophy at Vetralla and later as Professor of Theology at St. John and Paul’s, Rome. Indeed, his entire life as a Passionist shows what can be achieved by a man who makes a vow, as he is said to have done, never to lose or misemploy a moment of time.

However, the main occupation of his life was neither study nor lecturing nor writing. He had become a Passionist primarily in order to save and sanctify his soul, and consequently, his first concern was growth in holiness. One can get a glimpse of his interior sentiments from the following resolution takenfrom his “Orario Spirituale,” which he wrote when a student: “Every day I shall ask for this grace among others: to suffer, to be humiliated and made of no account for the love of Jesus Christ.” In his “Dialogue Between a Young Priest and the Blessed Virgin,” written probably about the same time as his “Autobiography,” he thus addresses the Queen of Heaven: “Mater mine, I am filled with confusion when I consider that I am a priest! Oh, obtain for me the grace never to lower the great dignity of the priesthood. At times, when I am on my way to the altar I have to stop and persuade myself that I am really a priest. A priest! I can scarcely believe it! A few years ago I was-God knows! And now I amto celebrate Mass. . . . . . And then he makes Our Lady reply with words of encouragement and consolation, telling him to act towards her Son as she did. “Imagine that you are receiving Him as I received Him when He became incarnate or as I welcomed Him in my arms when He was born, or embraced Him on the road to Calvary, or received Him when they took Him down from the Cross.”

But during all those years he never lost sight of England. In his eyes the development of his spiritual life and his studies were but the remote preparation for his apostolate in that country. Yet as year by year passed without anything being done to establish Passionist foundations outside Italy, his patience must have been sorely tried. The repeated excuse that the time was not yet ripe, that the period of consolidation after the disasters of the Napoleonic invasion had not passed, that personnel was lacking, must have seemed to him in his enthusiasm as an obstacle subtly raised by the devil to prevent the evangelisation of the English.

Undoubtedly, the most extraordinary feature of Father Dominic’s life, a part from the heroicity of his sanctity, is this conviction that he was destined to work in England. One day when he was on his way to preach a mission somewhere in Italy and had to cross a swollen river, the horse he was riding was carried away by the violence of the waters. Father Dominic went down twice. Then, aware of his danger, he prayed to Our Lady for help. “0 Mary, conceived without sin, pray for me,” he cried out, and immediately found himself safe and sound on the bank. “I really never thought ofdeath,” he used to say when relating the incident “You see, I have to go to England, where I shall die, and not elsewhere.” Indeed, he seems not to have been able to get England out of his head. He prayed for England; he spoke and wrote about England; he sought prayers for its conversion from all with whom he came into contact. Years before he left Italy he asked a boatman who was rowing him across a river to pray that he would save as many souls in England as there were drops of water around him. It was this awareness of his destiny that no doubt caused him to refuse with great decision the offer of a bishopric in Sicily.

Nevertheless, Father Dominic was six years in Rome before he made the acquaintance of an Englishman. Every winter and spring saw numerous visitors from England come not only to enjoy Italian sunshine but to look with appreciation and even veneration upon the artistic beauties of the Eternal City. Many a time he must have seen little groups of them strolling along from San Gregorio to the Colosseum and the Forum, all of which are near St. John and Paul’s. But with none of them (and what is indeed strange, not even with the professors and students of the English College), does he appear to have had any social contact. Had any of these non-Catholic visitors met him in the street by accident and spoken to him, his unprepossessing appearance, his weak unmusical voice as he tried to make himself intelligible in English, would have given a totally false impression. He would have been put down as just another of the Frati with no special talents or characteristics to make him interesting. As a rule, none of the non-Catholics, whether residents or visitors, had any desire to be on speaking terms with people who appeared to live in another world and went about dressed in fantastic garments. Some of them avoided Catholics as they would those infected with the plague. Thus Newman, writing of his journey through Italy with Hurrell Froude in 1833, said:

“We keep clear of Catholics throughout the tour.” And no wonder, for about the same time he had written: “As to the Roman Catholic system, I have ever detested it so much that I cannot detest it more by seeing it.”

However, in 1830, Father Dominic at last met an Englishman who was willing and desirous to talk about the conversion of England. In that year the Hon. George Spencer, late Anglican Vicar of Great Brington, in Northamptonshire, arrived in Rome to study for the priesthood at the English College. And from that time the pattern of Father Dominic’s future apostolate began to take on a clearer outline.

Among the first to visit George Spencer was Miss Trelawney, a member of a very old Cornwall family. She had become a Catholic 20 years or so before. And now her father, who had followed her into the Church, had come to Rome at 70 years of age to be ordained priest, his private studies in Cornwall having been accepted as sufficient. But it was necessary to find someone to teach him the ceremonies of the Mass. His spiritual adviser and friend, Cardinal Odescalchi (whose character is well delineated in Henry Harland’s classic, “The Cardinal’s Snuffbox”), therefore requested the Father General of the Passionists to appoint someone for this purpose. Father Dominic was chosen. “It was a preposterous choice,” says Denis Gwynn, in his excellent work on the revival of Catholicism in England, “The Second Spring,” “for not only was Father Dominic unable to speak either English or French, but Trelawney could not speak Italian.” The difficulty had to be solved at once and George Spencer, who spoke Italian well, was asked to become an interpreter between them.

This friendly contact with Englishmen added coals to the fire of Father Dominic’s zeal for the return of England to the Faith. His zeal and enthusiasm were still greater after George Spencer had introduced him to Ambrose Phillips, 21, and just down from Cambridge, the son of a wealthy landowner in Leicestershire, who had become a Catholic while a schoolboy six years before. They used to walk up and down the beautifulgarden at St. John and Paul’s talking about England.

At this time Father Dominic was more or less ignorant of the real state of religious affairs in England. He did not realise that the Church there had, in Wiseman’s famous phrase, just emerged from the catacombs. And his conversations with Ambrose Phillips, young and with all the optimistic zeal of a convert, did little to correct the impression that it needed only a few men fired with the love of God to bring about a conversion as complete as that wrought by St. Augustine many centuries before. But in the divine scheme of things what was merely human; rational foresight, studied and accurate planning, was to have little part in the formation of this modern Apostle of England.

From that time onwards Father Dominic’s thoughts were more than ever concentrated on his predestined apostolate. Everywhere he went he obtained prayers for England’s conversion. He taught the Brother porter at St. John and Paul’s a set of English phrases ingenuously designed to awaken interest in the Faith in the non-Catholics who came seeking permission to visit the Basilica, and was thus instrumental in bringing about the conversion of several. Though he was more than fully occupied with his duties either as Professor of Theology or later as Rector or Provincial, he found time to keep up a frequent correspondence with Father Spencer, Ambrose Phillips and with a Mr. Ford, an Anglican clergyman. “Every hour,” he wrote to Ambrose Phillips, “seems a thousand years till I see my dear England and shed my blood, or at least be spent with labours for it.”

In 1833-the year of John Keble’s famous sermon on National Apostasy, which Newman always regarded as the beginning of the Oxford Movement-it looked for a moment as if the day so long desired by Father Dominic was at hand. In April of that year he was present as Provincial Consultor at the General Chapter, and appealed to the Capitular Fathers to sanction the establishment of a foundation in England. Because of the love St. Paul of the Cross, the founder of the Passionists always expressed for England, and in view of his prophecy that his children would one day be settled there, any such proposal was sure to be received with sympathy. But after an exhaustive discussion it was decided that nothing could be done about the matter just then.

So Father Dominic, disappointed, but confident that the day was now not far off, went back to his routine duties. But however absorbing his occupations, the thought of England lingered on the frontiers of his mind. There were changes of light and colour on the surface of his life, but its centre remained constant. Fortunately, what is known to us was hidden from him. The adverse decision of the General Chapter meant the loss of a golden opportunity. After that, the friends of the Passionists grew a little weary of waiting. Ambrose Phillips, on whom Father Dominic was relying for at least some financial help, became interested in the Trappists and threw all his energy into establishing them near his Manor House, “Grace Dieu.” He was warned by Lord Shrewsbury, prejudiced by rumour against Father Dominic, not to have anything to do with the Passionists. “You will bring yourself and others into trouble with these good people and do no good.” Moreover, Ambrose Phillips found the Trappists no financial burden. “You may support half a dozen Trappists,” he said, “on what would not satisfy one ordinary priest.” He still desired to see the Passionists working in England and through his means, as he assured Father Dominic, but he was no longer as enthusiastic as before.

But in spite of all these indications of trouble ahead, Father Dominic was serenely confident. And at last, in 1839, things began to move. The General Chapter of that year, on receiving a Memorial on the subject from Mgr (later Cardinal) Acton, decided to make a foundation in England at the first available opportunity. Meanwhile, a start was to be made in Belgium.

One can easily imagine Father Dominic’s elation at this turn of events. But if he had been taking it for granted that he would be an obvious choice for such an enterprise he would have been greatly disappointed, for when the names of the pioneers were made public his was not among them But, as a matter of fact, he was not at all downcast. When the news reached him he was giving a mission in a small out-of-the-way village. He merely turned to a companion priest and said: “You will see. . . . . . they will not set out without me-I have to go with them.”

His confidence was justified. At the last moment the priest appointed Superior of the new foundation, a former Father General who had shown little interest in the idea of an English foundation, begged to be excused from setting out on so difficult an undertaking. His request was granted.

Thus did Father Dominic’s hour come. He was openly jubilant. Though in the thoughts of his Superiors he was going only to Belgium, he knew better-he was going to England by stages. “Good-bye,” he wrote to a friend at Lucca, “I am leaving for the land I have desired to see for so many weary years. Go and come as we may, things turn out at last as God has arranged them from all eternity.”

On May 24, 1840, he knelt at the feet of Gregory XVl, a Benedictine, as St. Augustine knelt at the feet of the first Pope Gregory, also a Benedictine, before setting out to convert the Anglo-Saxons. On May 26, the Feast of Our Lady Help of Christians, he, with his four companions (one of whom, Father Peter Magganotto, was within a few years to go to Sydney and teach theology at the Benedictine Monastery of St. Mary’s), bade good-bye to his religious brethren at St. John and Paul’s, to Rome and to Italy, which he was never to see again, in order to fulfil the destiny so definitely marked out for him so many years before.

CHAPTER THREE

On October 8, 1845, in the evening when rain was pelting down from heavy, dark clouds and the roads were deep in mud, two youngish men well muffled up against the cold, stood, one with a walking stick in his gloved hand, in a shelter near the Angel Inn at Oxford. John Dobree Dalgairns, MA., of Exeter College, whom Father Dominic had received into the Church ten days before, and Mr. St. John, who was also a recent convert, both of them disciples of John Henry Newman, were waiting for the coach from London to come in. When it arrived a short, stout, thickset man, began to climb down awkwardly from an outside seat. He was, as he afterwards said himself, soaked liked a chicken. And indeed the water poured over the brim of his hat as he bent his head, and his clothes were sodden and shapeless. But to Father Dominic such misfortunes were of little account. Was he not about his Master’s business? If, however, he had been disposed to feel sorry for himself, his mood was immediately transformed when as he was descending from the coach, Dalgairns, full of eagerness to tell him the good news, whispered in his ear that Mr. Newman had sent a message that he, too, wanted to be received into the Church. At that moment a thrill of joy must have shot through Father Dominic’s shivering and uncomfortable body, filling it with a sort of divine warmth. Yet all he said was: “God be praised.” And then they all walked in silence over the wet fields to the parsonage at Littlemore. * * * *

On that October day Father Dominic had been four years in England. He had had his joys indeed, but they were far outweighed by his sorrows. He had been warned that the shadow of the cross was to fall darkly on him during the years of his apostolate. While Rector of the foundation at Chateau d”Ere, which he had established in Belgium, he had occasion to visit Boulogne, and there in the church erected by his friend, the Abbe Haffreingue, he had been given to understand in prayer that he would have many things to suffer in England. And Father Spencer, writing from West Bromwich, had thought it well to advise him of the difficulties facing a priest in England, by pointing out that he himself had no idea of how great they were until he had experienced them. But, as Father Dominic confessed afterwards, no anticipation could have prepared him for the reality.

After his visit to England in 1840 Father Dominic had gone back to Belgium to wait once again in patience. In his “Loss and Gain,” Newman describes him at this time as looking over the northern stormy sea, “when Caesar of old looked out for a new world to conquer,” and eyeing the restless waves wondering if ever the day would come when he should be carried over them. It would have made any other man mad to be baulked again and again by what after all were but trifling obstacles. He did not want a properly furnished house to begin with. As he wrote to Ambrose Phillipps, he would have been “content with a house fit for a peasant, built in some open field or in a wood,” or “in a cabin made of straw or in a cave dug out in a rock.” He could not understand the slow, cautious circumspection of his friends when it was a question of saving souls.

But at last the day did come. In the beginning of October, 1841, with one companion, Father Amadeus McBride, an Irishman who had become a Passionist in Italy, he arrived again at Oscott College. He had come in the expectation of taking possession almost at once of Aston Hall near Stone, in Staffordshire, a house many centuries old, which had been donated to the Church, but which was stripped of its ancient grandeur and in a state of disrepair. However, on reaching Oscott College he found to his amazement that further difficulties had arisen in the way of handing it over to the Passionists. So once again he was bidden to possess his soul in patience. “Padre Domenico tells me that he is uncertain when he shall go to his mission and so am I,” wrote Father Spencer to Ambrose Phillipps. “I tell him the beginning of his mission is to exercise patience; and no wonder, after the devil has kept him out of England for twenty-eight years, that he should be shut up silent for twentyeight days or even weeks. . . . . .”

Actually, it was for five months. If the voice of the children in Focluth wood never ceased to resound in the ears of the future Apostle of Ireland, the voice of the people of England crying out for spiritual help resounded with no less insistence in the ears of Father Dominic. To be inactive with plenty to eat and every comfort when souls were in need, made him uneasy and even unhappy.

At length all major obstacles were removed and he and his companion took up residence at Aston Hall. Though his knowledge of English was at this time more theoretical than practical, he lost no time in beginning his apostolate of the spoken word. “I wish to say a few words for your edification,” he said in his first sermon, “but I cannot do it because I am not yet able to speak English. However, I shall say something-a very short sermon! My dear beloved, let you love one another because they who love their brothers accomplish perfectly the will of God. Let you love God and men for God’s sake, and you shall be perfectly happy for ever. Amen.” It is related that when he said the prayers before Mass on his first public appearance before the little group of Catholics in Aston, his mispronunciations and foreign accent caused some laughter, so that when he went back into the sacristy he was unable to keep the tears of disappointment from his eyes. And probably much the same thing occurred when he preached his first sermon.

But Father Dominic persevered. There were always some who could not help smiling at his faulty English, his Italian gestures and general appearance, but even they soon learnt not to smile at the man-he was too patently sincere, too obviously holy for that. And his perseverence brought success. In a little while, as he said himself, he began “to do a little of everything; to preach, to hear confessions, to give public and private retreats, to instruct Protestants, to hold disputations, to receive people into the Church and the like.” Nor did he confine his apostolate to Aston. Somehow or other he scraped together £12 and hired a room at Stone, a town two miles away which had also been confided to the care of the Passionists. “Three times a week for nearly two years,” says his official biographer, Father Urban Young, C. P., “he walked, sandalled and in his religious habit, from Aston to Stone. And three times a week he endured the Cross, despising the shame. It was not so much that he brought forth the Cross and held it gloriously before the eyes of the people, as that he himself seemed transformed into the Crucified, and his walk a Via Dolorosa.”

Until Father Dominic came Mass had not been said in Stone since the Reformation. Such daring on his part called forth all the bigotry that had been nurtured in ignorant minds for three hundred years. His very appearance in the streets was a signal for an outburst of fanaticism. “As he entered the town,” said an eyewitness, “the crowds rushed out to gape at and insult him, as if he were a savage beast. Hat in hand, and in perfect calm, the Servant of God walked slowly along, bowing to all and with a kind word to all. Behind him surged a rabble of local wastrels from whose mouths came ribald and unrepeatable insults. As he passed under the windows the more respectable citizens joined in the hideous outcry against the Demon, the Papist, the Devil!” He was given a nickname-Padre Demonio. Every possible effort was made by those who resented his apostolate to make him desist and depart from the neighbourhood. He was preached against, threatened, calumniated and even physically attacked. A scar on his forehead remained to the day of his death as a reminder of a violent blow from a stone cast at him as he walked along the street.

However, Father Dominic did not allow himself to become so pre-occupied with apostolic work as to forget what was happening in religious affairs generally. The Catholic world was at this time following with great interest and hope the Oxford Movement. The men who had set out to reform the Church of England from within in the belief which was well founded that it was in danger of succumbing to the attacks of Protestant liberalism, had themselves reached open disagreement. The publication of Tract 90 in which Newman had contended that the Thirty-nine Articles were opposed only to Roman errors and not to Catholic doctrine, had raised a storm of indignation and brought the Tractarians under an official ban. Newman, with a few friends, retired to Littlemore, where, in a barn-like building called by Dalgairns the Parsonage, he gave himself up to a life of almost total seclusion, and by prayer, study and mortification sought to come to the knowledge of the truth. In the following year, 1843, he formally retracted all he had said against the Roman Church and resigned his living of St. Mary’s Oxford.

Father Dominic s name will always be linked with Newman’s. Yet the strange fact is that they met but three or four times altogether. Nor did they at any time write to one another. The link that binds their names so inextricably belongs rather to the sphere of the supernatural.

Father Dominic’s first acquaintance with any of the members of the Oxford Movement began after he had read an article in the French “Univers,” bearing the signature “Un Jeune homme de 1”Universite,” in which an appeal was made for the sympathy and understanding of foreign Catholics in the religious affairs then agitating Oxford University. This was in the early part of 1841. Father Dominic wrote a long reply in very elegant Latin, which was published in the “Univers” on May 5 of the same year. Its opening words are in themselves a revealing commentary on the writer’s own life: “There is nothing too daring for love to venture.”

There is every reason to believe, though it cannot be stated with certainty, that Newman looked through this closely reasoned answer to the objections raised by the Anglicans against the Catholic position, and thus came to know something of Father Dominic’s great intellectual powers. It is very probable also that this first acquaintanceship was strengthened through the letters which passed between Father Dominic and Dalgairns at Littlemore after the former had found out that the latter was the young man who had signed the article in the “Univers.” Then, when Father Dominic was in the vicinity of Oxford in 1844, where he had preached “in a hayloft to five hundred Protestants,” once more greatly daring he paid a visit to Littlemore. The visit was, indeed, a short one, but long enough to make a good impression on Newman. On this occasion Father Dominic left behind him some of his own polemical writings, but since even Dalgairns confessed that he had not had time to look into them, it is unlikely that Newman did. However, Father Dominic’s pun on the word Littlemore must surely have gone the rounds of the Community there. “Dear Littlemore, I love thee,” he wrote to Dalgairns. “A little more and we shall see happy results from Littlemore. When the learned and holy Superior of Littlemore shall come, then I hope we shall see the beginning of a new era.” At all events, the relationship between Father Dominic and the Community became intimate enough for Dalgairns to make a request of a particularly private nature on behalf of some of them, perhaps including Newman. “Several persons among us,” he wrote, “are anxious to lead a more mortified life than is common among us; they have been trying in vain to procure shirts or girdles of haircloth. They only succeeded in getting one from abroad. Could you manage to put us in the way of getting a dozen such instruments? They will be put into the hands of a person who guides many souls among us, so you need not fear their being indiscreetly used . . .”

Thus, though Newman was not properly speaking on terms of friendship with Father Dominic, he knew him very well by reputation. According to Dalgairns he was always glad to have news of him. And in his farewell letters written to his friends on the eve of his conversion, he mentioned him in ways which show in the aggregate how high he stood in his estimation. He told J. R. HopeScott that he was “a shrewd and good and deep divine,” and H. Wilberforce that he was “a simple, quaint man . . . but a very sharp, clever man, too, in his way,” and another who is anonymous that he was “a simple, holy man, and withal gifted with remarkable powers.”

According to all his biographers, Newman was a peculiarly sensitive man who hated any invasion of his mind or soul. He felt it particularly difficult at this time to unburden his mind in speech. Thus, when he ceased to believe in Anglican Orders, he did not say so openly; he wore grey trousers instead of clerical black. In his “Apologia,” he says of Dr. Russell of Maynooth, that he was a dear friend “who had, perhaps, more to do with my conversion than anyone else. . . . .He let me alone.” Newman wanted seclusion and silence in which to overcome his intellectual difficulties and he believed himself competent to deal with them alone. However, there came a stage in his progress to the truth when it became necessary to check his results by observation of the marks which he knew were pointers to the Fold of Christ, and especially the mark of holiness. “What has affected my feelings very much,” he noted in a diary, “is to find the holiness of the Roman saints since our separation.”

Father Dominic would, no doubt, have given the world to be invited to discuss doctrinal difficulties with Newman. It would have seemed to him the chance of a lifetime. Yet though he was unaware of it, he was doing something far more advantageous to Newman. In a letter to Ambrose Phillipps gently refusing to enter into any controversial discussions with him, Newman with the assurance of a man who believes his question is unanswerable, had asked when would Catholic priests go barefooted into the manufacturing towns and preach to the people like St. Francis Xavier. And then to his surprise he found in Father Dominic an answer to his challenge. In one of his University sermons preached several years before, he had said that it “was difficult to estimate the moral power of a single individual, trained to practise what he teaches, may acquire. . . . The hidden saints . . . are enough to carry on God’s noiseless work.” It was Father Dominic’s noiseless, humanly imperceptible work on Newman’s soul that forged the link forever binding their names together.

Father Dominic was no mere Ananias chosen unexpectedly to bring to Christ’s Church a new Paul. His entire life from the moment his future apostolate was made known to him, was shaped by a single thought, was coloured by one desire: the conversion of England. His unceasing prayers, his constant self-sacrifice, his indefatigable literary labours, his persevering correspondence with all who could help in the achievement of his heart’s desire, these things undoubtedly were responsible for his presence in Littlemore that day in October, 1845. And as he stood by the fire drying his wet clothes and saw the door open and Newman kneeling at his feet humbly asking to be received into the true Fold, he must have felt that his life’s work was nearly over.

Many years later Newman was to realise more fully the unobtrusive but active part Father Dominic had in his conversion. Within a few months of his death in 1890, in response to an inquiry from Cardinal Parrochi, he wrote: “. . . . .Father Dominic was a marvellous missioner and preacher filled with zeal. He had a great part in my own conversion and in that of others. His very look had about it something holy. When his form came within sight, I was moved to the depths in the strangest way. The gaiety and affability of his manner in the midst of all his sanctity was in itself a holy sermon. . . . . . . .I hoped and still hope that Rome will crown him with the aureole of the saints.”

CHAPTER FOUR

On Monday morning, August 27, 1849, the passengers in the Great Western train from Paddington, London, stared out of the windows at Pangbourne Station as Father Dominic was carried from a third-class carriage by his travelling companion and a porter, and placed sitting on a seat offered by a neighbouring non-Catholic woman. He had taken seriously ill soon after the train left Reading, and it was at once obvious that medical aid would have to be obtained at the next station. Fortunately, a doctor was on the spot, and having easily diagnosed an acute heart attack, said that it would be necessary to get him into bed immediately. But because the patient had come from London, where cholera was then prevalent, neither of the two hotels would take him in. So it was decided to bring him back to Reading. In the meantime, since he was unable to continue to sit up, he was placed lying down on a little straw on the platform. And there for an hour or more until the up-train arrived, he remained in great agony but in peace and with “Thy will be done” ever on his lips.

The years that had passed since Father Dominic received Newman and his companions, E. S. Bowles and Richard Stanton, into the Church, had been full and fruitful. Great joys had come his way, as when he saw the repeated success of the Processions of the Blessed Sacrament on the Feast of Corpus Christi which he had inaugurated in 1845, the first in England since the Reformation, and which at Aston were usually attended by as many as two thousand Catholics and non-Catholics. But his joys were fleeting and his tribulations many. The task of founding the Passionists in England brought him continual anxiety.

Aston Hall -it had been given the name of St. Michael’s Retreat-was far from being an ideal place for religious. One of the upstairs rooms was turned into a chapel because it was the largest. But this arrangement was very inconvenient, for the passing to and fro of seculars interfered with the normal solitude of a monastic establishment. And it was long before anything could be done to alter this state of affairs. A church had to be built first, and much of Father Dominic’s time and ingenuity were taken up in ways and means of paying for it. The full tide of Irish immigration had not been reached at this time, and the pennies of the poor for church building were not yet available.

However, the problem that caused him the greatest worry was the acquisition and training of English-speaking novices. Promising subjects came and went as they came and went in the days when St. Paul of the Cross was setting on foot the first foundation of the Passionists on Monte Argentaro. Some indeed had to be sent away as unsuitable. It was heart-breaking but nothing could be done about it. The idea then got abroad and even reached the ears of the Father General at Rome through other channels than the Passionists, that the Passionist rule of life was too rigorous for the English. Father Dominic himself was at times tempted to think the same, especially when a person possessing all necessary qualifications and full of religious fervour, returned to secular life because he found things too hard at Aston Hall.

Things were undoubtedly hard, but this was not precisely because of the Rule. There was only a minimum of furniture in the house because there was not sufficient money to buy more. For the same reason the food had necessarily to be the plainest possible. One can get some idea of the sort of life the Passionists led at that time from an account of a visit made by Newman in 1846. “St. John and I are on our way back to Oscott from Father Dominic,” he wrote to F. S. Bowles. “We got to Aston Hall on the afternoon of the last day of the year in time for Vespers . . . Benediction. . . . . . and the Te Deum, which usually end the year among Catholics. After the Benediction I spoke of, we went to Compline-then to supper-then after visiting the B.S., to the Rosary-then at 8 o‘clock, after a gossip with F. Dominic, to bed. Up at 12½ to Matins, Meditation and Confession-to bed at 2-up at ½ past 5 to Prime and Tierce-Mass with Communion at six-then Meditation-then a good breakfast- then a gossip with F. Dom. At 10 (I think), High Mass-. then at once to dinner at 12-and so on (not to tire you) till 7 this morning, when we set off walking for Stafford, and here we are by rail. The Aston monks are simple, modest, smiling, cheerful persons, and we liked very much what we saw of them.” Even excepting confession and the good breakfast, which concerned Newman and St. John alone, it was a programme full enough to fill anyone’s day. But Father Dominic and his few companions had also to attend to the needs of the parish at Anton and Stone as well as give Missions and Retreats up and down England. So, therefore, it is not astonishing that when recalling this visit a year later St. John should have described the Passionists as “too strict for poor dear old human nature.” Nevertheless, his conclusion was erroneous as the years have amply proved.

But however strict was the life led by the Passion ists in general, Father Dominic’s personal life was stricter still. In all things he set a constant example. Though according to the Rule he was allowed a rest from the midnight observance for a few days after returning from a Mission or Retreat, he would not avail himself of this privilege. But he made sure that others took advantage of this concession. And though he provided a fire at which the religious could warm themselves when the weather was cold, he never went near it himself. He was too busy, too pre-occupied with everyday duties and even at this time with literary work, in a word, with all that concerned the glory of God, to be able or willing to give attention to the needs of the body. Once when he had gone nearly all day without eating, he arrived late in the evening at a convent where he had to give a Conference, as hungry as a ploughman. The Sisters, naturally concluding that he had already dined, provided some light refreshments. These he gobbled up with amazing rapidity, with such rapidity indeed that the Sister who was waiting on him ventured to suggest that perhaps he would like an egg. “Yes, Sister,” he replied, “I could eat a dozen, but two or three will be enough.”

It was not that Father Dominic was a particularly robust man who had inured himself to hardship and did not feel in need of either rest or physical comfort. He suffered from a hernia all his life. He had frequent attacks of rheumatism, and was always subject to palpitation of the heart. Up to the time he left Italy he had many serious illnesses during one of which he passed into a state of delirium. It is related that on this occasion he was afterwards very embarrassed lest he should have given scandal, whereas on the contrary he had delivered to the Brother Infirmarian an excellent discourse on the Sacred Passion of Christ These illnesses were, in fact, one of the main reasons why the Father General had been reluctant to send him to a cold northern climate. Since he arrived in England he had suffered a great deal physically. In the early part of 1845 he had been practically an invalid Yet he could assure the Father General in a letter written about this time that although he had never been really well since he left Italy, he had not been ill enough at any time to miss the regular observance. Undoubtedly, Divine Providence watched over his health. It certainly protected him from harm on one particular occasion. When he was returning from giving a Retreat to the Clergy of the Western District assembled at Prior Park, he was involved in a railway accident. “The first seat to be left intact,” he wrote, “was the one on which two priests and myself were sitting. All that was in front of me was smashed to pieces. The shock threw me violently against one at my companions, and my head was hurt, but not too badly. So to have a hard head is sometimes useful.”

Though Father Dominic was exceedingly hard on himself, he was full of understanding for the feelings of others. His was not a discouraging asceticism. There was nothing about his austerity that was flaunting or arrogant. “I have recommended to Father Constantine to be more liberal in his dealings with the religious”—that sentence in a letter to the Father General sums up his attitude. He was as tender as a mother towards the sick, and, unfortunately, there was much sickness in the Community. The Italian Fathers who were with the exception of Father Amadeus McBride, his sole helpers for a long time, found everything in England difficult, the language, the climate, the food, and some of them had, in consequence, fallen into indifferent health. Though Father Dominic did not expect others to have his own heroic attitude to suffering, he, nevertheless, longed for companions who had. In his letters to the Father General he again and again asked for priests who would be willing to endure every hardship for the sake of the Gospel.

Yet in spite of ill health or other difficulties the priests at Aston Hall followed very closely in the footsteps of Father Dominic. Father Constantine developed a very painful cancer, but with extraordinary fortitude continued to carry out his duties to the end. His death when his experienced services were most needed was one of Father Dominic’s sore trials. Then cholera and typhus broke out in England, and supplied the Passionists with an opportunity of putting into more open practice the immense charity for their neighbour that filled their hearts.

It was not Father Dominic’s first experience of the plague. He had seen its terrible ravages when he was Rector of S. Sosio in Ceprano. On that occasion he left his monastery and gave himself up entirely to the care of the sick and the dying. And now once more at Aston and more especially at Stone he manifested his spirit of self-sacrifice. The plague was attacking with particular virulence the Irish who had fled from their own famine-stricken country, often leaving behind them, as someone has said, all that they loved in life lying in coffinless graves. When even the kindest hearted were loath to have anything to do with those poor immigrants, Father Dominic and his fellow Passionists were unceasing in their care of them and earned for themselves a lasting reputation for heroism.

The charity of Father Dominic and his companions was not limited to Aston and Stone. His especially was not a microscopic heart. It was big enough to contain the whole of needy humanity. Having read an appeal from an Irish Bishop on behalf of the famine victims in County Kerry, Ireland, he consulted the priests of the Community about what could be done to help. They decided to sell a chalice and send proceeds to the Bishop, but this proving impracticable, they saved and sent £4 by cutting down the food allowed to them by their Rule.

But one by one the Passionists themselves excepting Father Dominic fell victims to the plague. The priests carried it home to the novices. And thus it was that Father Spencer who in December, 1846, in his forty-seventh year had received the habit and taken the name of Ignatius, was brought to the gates of death. When this happened Father Dominic was in Belgium holding the canonical visitation of the Retreat at Chateau d”Ere. One can easily imagine what he called his “agony of grief” when it was announced in a Belgian paper that Father Ignatius had died of typhus. It would have been the last straw. But God did not ask His servant to bear this cross and preserved a precious life that was to be spent in unceasing work for His glory. For a little while at least those two great apostles of Christ Crucified, the son of a peasant and the son of a peer, were to work side by side in life and then rest side by side in death.

In spite, however, of his infirmities and his manifold duties and anxieties as Superior of the Passionists in England and Belgium, Father Dominic continued his work of giving Missions and Retreats. When he was in Italy his voice was considered too weak for the delivery of the stirring evening sermon on Missions. So like his countryman, Blessed Vincent Strambi, CP., who died in Rome in 1824, and who had also a weak voice, his work on missions was usually confined to the Meditations on the Sacred Passion, the Catechetical Instruction and the hearing of confessions. It is said that much against his will he was once appointed to preach the panegyric of a saint but that so disappointing was his effort and so final the verdict of the parish priest who had requested his services, that he was never again entrusted with that work.

But when he went to Belgium, where he had to preach in French, and when he came to England, he had of necessity to undertake the preaching of the evening sermons as well. It has to be admitted that he never really acquired a passable English accent. The “th” in words was always an insuperable obstacle. Thus, in addressing the clergy at Oscott College during the course of a Retreat he warned them that if they wanted to meditate well they must be good tinkers, and was no doubt surprised at the smile that greeted this piece of advice. Many of the sayings attributed to him are probably apocryphal, though they are the sort of things he was inclined to say, such as this to a Community of nuns: “Without face it is impossible to be shaved.”

It is certainly in the nature of a miracle that he was such a success with so many handicaps. It was the case of St. Paul the Apostle all over again. Father Dominic was preaching Christ and Him Crucified, “not in the persuasive words of human wisdom but in the showing of the spirit and power.” In the designs of Divine Providence what was merely human was to have as little part in his missions” success as in the inauguration of his apostolate. Notwithstanding his unpleasing voice, his faulty accent, and his other natural disadvantages, crowds listened to him with rapt attention and divine grace touched many hearts, Catholic and non-Catholic, in a most extraordinary way. Perhaps would be more accurate to say that crowds watched him with rapt attention, for often his voice could not possibly reach all. But his very appearance was a sermon in itself, and moreover, his Italian gestures were as telling as words. There is a story told of a man who came to him after being present at his sermon, and who on being asked what part of the sermon had aroused his manifest sorrow for his sins, had confessed that he had not understood a word of it. No doubt what occasioned the change in that man’s soul was the ascetical appearance of Father Dominic, the moving eloquence of his whole demeanour as he stood on the mission platform and by his frequent gestures towards the large crucifix erected there, endeavoured to bring home to his audience the heinousness of sin.

It is no wonder that he was in great demand. With a naivety and simplicity which was one of his chief characteristics and which had so impressed Newman, he told the Father General about those fruitful missions and added that the parish priests insisted on having him and would not be satisfied unless he gave at least the first mission himself. And all this contact with zealous Bishops and priests in places as far apart as London and Dublin, Scotland and Cornwall, brought pressing invitations to establish other foundations. As far as Father Dominic was personally concerned he would willingly have made foundations in every corner of the English speaking world and lived on next to nothing so long as he had further opportunities of preaching to the people. But his desires were often frustrated by lack of personnel. In a letter to the Vicar General of Tournai, Belgium, dated July, 1849, he said: “. . . . We have twenty-eight religious of whom eleven are priests. The majority of these priests are in a position to go out on missions, and in point of fact almost all of them are engaged on missionary work for ten months in a year.”

Nevertheless, in 1846, when he had at his disposal still fewer religious, he decided with great courage to branch forth. In March of that year with one companion he took up his residence in Northfield House near Stroud in Gloucestershire. Though he had gone there at the invitation of William Leigh, a wealthy Oxford convert, who later built and handed over to the Passionists the Church of the Annunciation at Woodchester, the actual foundation was made in great poverty. We are very comfortable here, even without furniture,” wrote Father Dominic, who in such circumstances was always particularly happy. “We have a few things for the kitchen, and four chairs. . . . Our straw mattresses are now on the floor, but we sleep well. If in reality iron bedsteads are the poorest of all kinds, I think they will not be against the letter [of the Rule] though wood is prescribed.” He made this foundation a House of Studies and expected great things from it. Yet within a few years after his death, it was to share the fate of Aston Hall and his foundation at Poplar House, Hampstead, London, all of which were abandoned through one cause or another, and their communities transferred to other Retreats.

Father Dominic made the foundation at Hampstead at the request of Bishop Wiseman, who was then VicarApostolic of the London district. Between them it was arranged that the Passionists should take possession of Poplar House in May, 1848. Unfortunately, Bishop Wiseman forgot he had granted tenancy of that diocesan property to Henry Bagshawe and his family which would not expire until the autumn of that year. When Father Dominic arrived he found the Bagshawes determined to stay. The situation was ludicrous, but still more ludicrous was Bishop Wiseman’s suggested solution of the difficulty. He offered the Passionists another house with a centenarian tenant. “This house might be rented,” wrote Father Dominic, “but we should have to allow a lady nearly one hundred years of age to live there until she died.” In the end he came to an arrangement with the Bagshawes. They were to continue to occupy Poplar House until their tenancy expired and the Passionists were to be their guests.

The only foundation which Father Dominic inaugurated and which has remained in Passionist hands to this day, is that at Sutton, near St. Helens in Lancashire. In opposition to the expressed views of Father Ignatius Spencer he chose the spot where St. Anne’s Retreat now stands, saying with prophetic insight: “Here will I dwell for ever, for I have chosen it”

At this time, the beginning of 1849, Father Dominic’s health began to fail. During the previous year he had noticed that he was far from well “I am sorry to tell you again,” he wrote to the Father General, “that my maladies seem ever worse, and I am weighed down with infirmities of every kind. I seem almost decrepit and aged beyond words. Yesterday someone told me I looked more like a man of eighty than one not yet sixty! Were the truth known, it is anxiety and worry of every kind that has brought me to this extremity, rather than fatigue of body.” By July, 1849, he had worsened so much that, as he wrote to a friend, he was fully persuaded he was at the end of his labours, he had finished his course.

He was indeed near the end of his earthly sojourn. On August 27, in the early morning he set out from Poplar House to go to Stroud on his way to Woodchester in order to be present at the opening of the church there which has already been mentioned was the gift of William Leigh to the Passionists. Father Luigi Pesciaroli, a relative of his, who had just returned from South Australia where he had settled with two other Passionists after the failure of their Mission to the Aborigines at Moreton Bay, requested permission to accompany him in order that he might see an old friend, the Rector of Northfield House. Father Dominic demurred, but at length consented. And so in the designs of Providence there was someone of his own by his side when he lay in agony on the platform of Pangbourne Station.

On arriving at Reading, accompanied by Father Luigi and the doctor he was carried to an inn which stood on the site now occupied by the Duke of Edinburgh Hotel, and put to bed. He was fully conscious and in great pain. “O Jesus, now I know what torments Thou didst endure on the Cross,” he was heard to say. That same afternoon at 3 o‘clock he was dead.

EPILOGUE

As the body of Father Dominic was taken through the streets of Stone on its way to Aston, the people who, a few years previously had looked on impassively or approvingly when he was hooted and insulted, now lined those same streets to show him reverence.

It was the beginning of a new attitude to this zealous apostle of England. When he had departed from the scene of his labours and more of his history began to be known, his true greatness emerged. His reputation for sanctity was always considerable. Now every year saw it increase, for time was allowing the immensity of his achievement to be properly weighed and appreciated.

After his body had been removed from Aston and brought to St. Anne’s Retreat, Sutton, his tomb gradually was recognised as a particularly holy spot dear to all who had the spiritual welfare of England at heart, and then became a place of pilgrimage. In 1889, the first steps were taken to open official investigations into his life with a view to his canonisation. Such investigations are ordinarily slow, and it was not until 1911 that Pius X, in response to petitions from the Hierarchy of England, the Cardinal Archbishop of Armagh, and the Archbishops of Dublin and Glasgow as well as from the Generals of all the religious Orders, allowed the formal introduction of the Cause, as it is called, at Rome, and issued a decree giving him the title of Venerable. The war of 1914–1918 interfered with the normal progress of the processes of examination of witnesses, and it was only in 1937 that the exhaustive investigation into his life was completed and the Holy See was satisfied that he had practised all the virtues in a heroic degree: faith, hope, charity, prudence, justice, temperance and fortitude.

In the meantime, heaven did not fail to manifest its confirmation on his sanctity. An Italian Passionist student was cured instantaneously of a tumour on his knee which had resisted for a year and some months in spite of the efforts of two doctors to heal it. A short time before a particularly painful remedy was to be tried he prayed thus: “Father Dominic, if you are in Paradise, as they say you are, obtain for me the grace of a cure?” And placing over the tumour a picture of Father Dominic which he hastily tore out of a biography a fellow-student had been reading to him, he added: “Father Dominic, if you want me to be cured, hurry, for the doctor is coming today!” The result was immediate. The pain at once lessened and then disappeared. He could now bend his knee easily and normally. An examination proved that the tumour had completely gone.

The Holy See having before it not only the statements of the two local doctors who had treated the knee in vain but also the sworn testimonies of two specialists who were appointed to enquire into the facts of the case, has accepted this cure as miraculous.

Finally, in 1945, on the occasion of the cen tenary of Newman’s conversion, the Hierarchies of England, Ireland, Canada and Australia, petitioned Pius XII to raise the Venerable Dominic Barberi to the Altars of the Church.

Thus, even in this world, honour is paid to those who surrender themselves entirely to God’s designs and unreservedly to His service. This is no passing honour, a fading flower on their tombs, a sentiment that endures at most for a few years. The Church never forgets her heroes and will sing their praises until the end of time.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

“Autobiographia,” Documentum I in the “Summarium additionale” of the Processes of Beatification and Canonisation

“Brevis relatio vocationis Ven. Servi Dei pro Angliae conversione,” Documentum II in the “Summarium additionale.”

“Vita del Servo di Dio P. Domenico della Madre di Dio,” by Padre Filippo, Passionista (1860).

“Vita del P. Domenico della Madre di Dio,” by Padre Luca (1897).

“The Life and Letters of Ven. Dominic (Barberi), C.P.,” by Father Urban Young, C.P. (1926).

“The Life of the Very Rev. Fr. Dominic (Barberi),” by Rev. Pius Devine, C.P. (1898).

“Dominic Barberi in England,” by Father Urban Young, C.P. (1935).

“The Preachers ofthe Passion,” by Father Herbert, C.P. (1924).

“Life and Times of Cardinal Wiseman,” by W. Ward (1898).

“Life of J. Henry Cardinal Newman,” by W. Ward (1912).

“Cardinal Newman,” by Wilfrid Meynell (1907).

“The Second Spring,” by Denis Gwynn (1942).

“The Spirit of the Oxford Movement,” by Christopher Dawson (1945).

“Homage to Newman.” A series of essays (1945).

Articles in “Studies” (September, 1945) and “The Clergy Review” (February, 1945), by Denis Gwynn.

In obedience to the decrees of Urban VIII, the author declares that he claims no credence for the facts in the following pages beyond what the available historical evidence may warrant, and that in using such words as sanctity, prophecy, and divine communication, he desires in no way to anticipate the judgment of the Church. lmprimi Potest:

Alphonsus Foley, C.P., Praep. Prov.

3rd May, 1946.

Nihil obstat:

F. MOYNIHAN, Censor Deputatus.

Imprimatur:

@ DANIEL MANNIX,

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis.

********

Don’t Bea Liar!

DANIEL A. LORD, S. J

INDEX

I was a youngster when I saw it, yet the scene is one I”m not likely ever to forget.

An allstar dramatic cast had been assembled to present the venerable classic “The Two Orphans.” (Years later-in case you are interested-David Wark Griffith filmed that play under the title, “Orphans of the Storm.”) From her retirement the famous actress, Clara Morris, had been coaxed to play the part of the abbess, a smart role with only one big scene. It was that scene that I still remember.

All through the play the audience had been torn and harried by the sad adventures of the two little maids lost in Paris. Now, in the swift unwinding of melodrama, their fate hung on one simple fact: Would the abbess tell a lie for their sakes? If she told the lie, they were saved. If she did not tell the lie, they were lost-or so the exigencies of the plot made it seem.

SHALL SHE LIE?

I can still see the great Clara Morris as she faced her dilemma: She, the superior of a convent, a consecrated nun, almost a saint, confronted with the alternatives of betraying the girls or telling a lie. Her hands twisted in agony as she faced that sin. There were in her eloquent eyes tears that needed no glycerine help. And every man and woman in the audience, swept along by the power of her acting, silently begged her to tell the lie.

A final struggle. . . . She told the lie, the heroines were saved, the audience lapsed into happy relief -and the great actress, turning away, burst into tears.

It was a heroic lie, and, we all felt (indeed it seems to me that the author wrote a line to that effect), one that was laid to her credit with God.

WRONG!

This little booklet is about lies and lying.-with side references to liars. I started the booklet with that well-remembered scene because at the time I saw it even my inexperienced and quite emotional juvenile mind realised that lying must be pretty serious and important, if a lie to save a delightful young woman could cause the abbess such anguish of soul and hold the audience in such dramatic suspense.

At the risk of handicapping my booklet and turning away some potential readers, let me hasten to say that now I know that her lie was wrong. She told that lie with the best intentions in the world. As far as her own soul was concerned, she probably was guiltless. Probably she thought that what she was doing was right.

Any lie is important. And in case you ever hear us Jesuits accused of holding that “the end justifies the means,” you can say that you know one Jesuit who started a booklet by saying, “Sorry, but you can’t tell a lie, even to save the life of the heroine of a beloved melodrama.”

We’ll let that rest there. Perhaps when we’ve finished the booklet, you’ll see what I mean.

FAMOUS LIARS

During the years of my reading and in my contact with men and women I”ve met my share of liars, fabricators, and exaggerators-plain, fancy, amusing, and dangerous. Baron Munchausen first crossed my horizon in “The Houseboat on the Styx,” an amusing satire that was very popular during my college days. I read some of his magnificent yarns, and I even tried to continue the series by writing a few Munchausen tall tales myself.

You remember, I”m sure, Munchausen and the ducks. At the end of a day’s hunt ing, Munchausen has only one bullet left. He comes to a lake where a hundred ducks are swimming peacefully. But alas and alack! though he has a powder horn full of powder, he has only one bullet left. Is he daunted? Not he? He puts exactly the right quantity of powder into his gun and rams home the bullet. Then he waits until the precise moment when all the ducks are swimming in a straight line, and he fires. The bullet goes through ninety-nine of the ducks, laying them dead. But because he had feared he might need that bullet again (it was his last, remember), he had measured the powder so exactly that the bullet remained embedded in the hundredth duck, from the body of which he retrieved the bullet.

What a tall tale that is!

Major Hoople is, of course, Munchausen’s modern successor.

From early consciousness I”d heard a liar called another Ananias. But it was not until I had read the tragic story of that first of Christian liars that I understood how God must feel about a man or a woman who lies to Him. At that many theologians hold that the sin of Ananias was not mortal but venial. God punished him in this world but not in the next world. So even a venial sin of lying may be pretty terrible.

HISTORY SPEAKS

Though today we discredit historically the story of George Washington and the cherry tree, still that story is the one thing about George the Great that no one is likely ever to forget. “I cannot tell a lie; I did it with my little hatchet,” may never have been said by Washington. But we all feel that it could have been said by a man whose life was so clearly devoted to truth. Perhaps he did not need to incriminate himself. We are glad he told the truth. In fact, I”ve a sort of feeling that the words should have been said by him-by which I mean that fiction can sometimes be truer to the spirit of a man than can history itself.

When I reached that study of modern history, I came smack-bang into the famous lying telegram by which Bismarck lured Napoleon the Inept into the fatal France-Prussian War.

ALL HATE LIES

Many years ago I myself told youthful lies, and I was ashamed of them. I suffered from the lies of my young companions,. and I began to know the consequences of lying.

Finally, it dawned upon me that human beings, pagan and Christian, modern and ancient, have always had the most deep-seated contempt for a liar amid the most savage resentment of lies.

Henry James, the great novelist, in his story, “The Liar,” gives the graphic record of a man who is known to be utterly untrustworthy. Lies have become a habit with him. He lies more easily than he tells the truth. He lies because he likes to fool people. He lies to get himself out of even minor unpleasantnesses. He lies just to be lying. He has reached a state where the truth seems dull, unromantic, uninteresting, and not worth the telling.

The climax of the story comes when his habit of lying, the venom of his horrible untruthfulness, finally affects his wife. She has had to lie to protect his lies, to cover the yarns he has been spinning. She has for so long been living in an atmosphere of lying that lies have become more natural to her than truth. In the end she is a liar, too.

FURIOUS INSULT

No doubt of it, even a liar detests being found out; and the most brazen teller of untruths doesn’t want to be told what he is.

“That’s a lie!” is a phrase we use very sparingly.

Even when we simply cannot let someone’s falsehood go uncorrected, even when the person has obviously told a whopper, we hesitate to say, “That’s a lie!” Instead we soften the blow with, “Are you sure that’s correct ?,” or, “Now, you may be entirely right, but it seems to me. . . . . or the now-famous, “That ain’t the way I heard it.”

So, too, the most cutting insult with which we can slap a person’s face is a calm, “You’re a liar!”

No decent man will accept that insult.In fact, the “lyingest” liar that ever told a tall tale in place of the truth will furi- ously resent being called a liar. If he is strong enough, he’ll swing to the offender’s jaw. If he is not strong enough, he’ll protest at the top of his voice that he may be guilty of a lot of other minor vices, like murder and arson and assault, but he is not-oh, no indeed!-he is not a liar.

Lying must be a pretty nasty sort of human trait if even the liar grows red and stutters indignantly when he is accused of what he knows is the fact about himself.

WHAT’S A LIE?

It is hard to define a lie exactly. Almost it is easier to describe it.

A lie is a statement made by a person who knows or thinks that what he says is not true. It “is a statement against the mind of the speaker. It is something that the speaker says with the intention to mislead his hearers.

Naturally enough, since we human beings communicate our ideas and intentions in many other ways than through words, a lie can be told by a nod, a shake of the head, a gesture-by any of the accepted signs for the communication of information. One can nod yes when one means no; one can point this way when the truth lies that way; one can communicate falsehood by sending it over radio, or by wig-wagging from the deck of a ship, or by using Indian smoke signals.

The things that make a lie a lie are these:

The speaker knows the truth or thinks he knows the truth.

He says something quite different from what he knows or thinks to be the truth.

Quite obviously, if a person makes a mistake in what he says and yet thinks that what he is telling is the truth, that statement is not a lie.

Thus: “Which way did my friend go?” I am asked.

Since I have a bad sense of direction, I say, “He went north,” when, as a matter of fact, he went south. If I personally think he went north, though my inquirer may want to pound my head for my stupidity, he cannot rightfully call me a liar.

Almost inevitably the man telling the lie is persuaded or at least hopes that the listener will believe him. Practically this factor is the heart of the lie. For if the teller of the lie knows that he will not be believed, he has little purpose in sliding from the truth.

I”ve already mentioned that lying is a human vice about which almost all humanity is in agreement. Pagans and Christians. Jews and Hindus, men who believe in God and men who struggle to get along without Him all hate lies.

POOR LIARS!

Towards liars the human attitude is a mixed one. Often we acutely dislike them; we see the harm they do, and we resent it. Sometimes men come very close to hating a liar and regarding him as an enemy of society-and he certainly is that.

At other times, however, people merely pity the liar.

“Poor fellow!” they say. “He just can’t seem to tell the truth.”

Yet wise parents take their lying children out behind the woodshed or its modern equivalent, determined that, if need be, they will beat the habit of lying out of these young people they are trying to educate to decent society. Judges on the bench tear the hide off witnesses who are found out to be lying, for in court the lie reaches the heights (or depths) of perjury. When a person who is under oath lies, the law enters in, and the liar gets a chance to meditate on his crime in a nice cool cell.

Pagans were proud of their word of honour.

Ancient history records the Roman nobleman who pledged his word that he would return and give himself up to death on a certain date. His captors let him go. On the appointed day he walked back to die; and his captors, who were also his enemies, honoured him as an honest man.

LIARS’ CLUBS

Coming back, though, to our description of a lie. . . . We have to study the elements of a lie a little more closely. Here’s a fellow, a modern Munchausen, another Hoople, who launches forth on a tall tale. Now, the yarn is going to be so much at variance with objective facts that he is absolutely certain no one will be fool enough to believe him. His yarn is so remote from actual reality that it launches into the waters of sheer fiction and pure imagination. Of course, such a tale is not really a lie at all, though sometimes it is referred to by theologians as a jocose lie.

“Come, look at the flock of wheelbarrows flying over the novitiate,” said the novice, in the classic religious-life story.

The novice merely had a sense of humour. Wheelbarrows don’t fly, e ven in and around novitiates. And, though his fellow novices thought his brand of humour distinctly worldly, none of them was stupid enough to believe him and run to look for the flying barrows.

So in America we have institutions known as liars” clubs.

They have regular conventions, at which the members must tell the wildest tales conceivable.

One year, I remember, the prize was won by a man who told of a runner who was so swift that when he ran in the high hurdles his own shadow couldn’t keep after him. In fact, the shadow, in despair, was seen to be crawling along the ground and under the hurdles.

Hugh Fullerton, the baseball writer, once told a tall tale of a baseball player who was so fast that he pitched and caught in the same game: he threw the ball from the pitcher’s mound, ran down the field, got behind the batter, put on mask, glove, and protector, and caught the ball when it arrived.

WAVERING LINE

Anyone who believes a yarn like either of those isn’t sufficiently experienced with the world to be allowed to wander around without a guardian. And the man who tells such yarns knows they are so utterly at variance with reality that no one is possibly going to believe him. He makes no pretence of passing off falsehood for truth. He is simply displaying the power” of his imagination. He is taking fictional flight into the realms of the ridiculous.

In this class of yarn is the ancient story of the man who trained a rattlesnake to act as a watchdog. At night he kept the snake in his bedroom, where the snake remained alert watching for burglars. One night the man awoke to find a burglar in his room. He was petrified with fright. Then across the room he saw the snake moving slowly toward the thief. The owner was terrified for fear that the rattler would kill the man. But not at all. So well trained was the snake that it wrapped itself around the thief and pulled him to the window, thrust out its tail, and rattled for a policeman.

I”ve told that story, which I heard years ago, to audiences that I thought youn g enough not to have heard it before. Never for an instant did I see any sign of any of my listeners, even the most guileless, believing it. I knew they wouldn’t believe It. Hence it was simply not a lie.

A wavering line, however, between tall tales and tales that we expect to be believed makes any practice of tall tale telling something that must be watched carefully. Fishermen start with tall tales. Regrettably we must note that when they come to spin the yarns about the fish they’ve caught a new desire creeps into their breasts: they really hope they will be believed. And that hope of being believed turns a tall tale into a lie.

ACCEPTED SENSE

Another factor that must be taken into consideration where lies are concerned is that some statements which seem to be not true are still not lies. They are known as conventional statements.

A caller asks to see the mistress of the house, for example. The mistress is up in her room, and she has no slightest desire to see the visitor. The maid answers the door and says, “My mistress is not at home.”

This is the commonest of conventional statements.

If the caller says to himself sadly, “Too bad! Why did I happen to pick a day when she is off on a picnic or gone to visit a sick aunt?” he simply doesn’t understand social usage. “My mistress is not at home,” or, “My mistress is not in,” does not mean that she is away from the house-on an ocean voyage; it simply means, “My mistress is not seeing callers today.” Or more concretely, “My mistress is not at home to you, not in to you.”

PLAIN IMPERTINENCE

There is, too, a certain type of direct question that comes from a person who has no right to know the answer to that question. What’s more, he knows he has no right to know it.

A relative stranger comes up to you and asks, “Is it true that you have an uncle who was hanged for horse stealing?” Let’s suppose for a moment that you had an uncle who was hanged for horse stealing. Your family has always kept this fact a dark secret. They have felt that if the truth got out it would hurt the family reputation, damage the future of brother William, who has just been made cashier in a bank, and spoil the chances of sister Alice, who is almost engaged to marry that nice young McAlister, of the Oak Park McAlisters.

Now, this stranger had no right to ask the question. It is no affair of his. He asked that question merely out of curiosity or because he would like to tell his friends about “that nice family with the skeleton in the closet-the uncle who was a horse thief.” Or he runs a gossip column; and if he knows about Uncle Jake, so will all his readers.

You haven’t the slightest obligation to tell him; and he knows that you h ave no such obligation.

First of all, you are in possession of a secret which you are obliged to keep. If that secret were made known, it would severely damage a great many reputations. It is your secret. You are no more obliged to give it up than you are to surrender your pocketbook at the call of some tramp.

But here is a man asking you a flat question. If you say, “It is none of your business,” that is exactly the same as saying, “Yes; there was an Uncle Jake, and we still have the rope that hanged him. So the only way in which you can protect your secret and keep reputations safe is to use a flat denial.

Hence you can say, without hesitancy, “It is not true that we had a horse-stealing uncle.”

Now, the man who asked you the question would be a fool, indeed, if he didn’t know that your answer might have nothing to do with the facts of the case. All civilised men and all social beings know that there are secrets which you have no obligation-and often no right-to communicate to others.

Thus, when people ask a physician about his patients, he has no slightest obligation to tell them what he knows; in fact, he may do serious wrong by talking about his patients.

“Is it true that you took care of Bill Jukes for a buckshot wound that he got when he was robbing a hencoop ?” the gos- sip asks.

“Most certainly I did not,” the doctor answers, even if he did take care of the man.

“Did Jane Blink tell you in confession that she ran off with a married man?” the priest is asked.

He answers, “I don’t know a blessed thing about Jane Blink,” even though the escapades of Jane may be very clear in his mind.

This is knowledge that he has no right to communicate. He can protect this secret only by flatly denying the question.

So, people without gentility or with an instinct for prying into other people’s affairs are constantly putting decent people on~ the spot by just such conduct. They ask the most impertinent personal questions.

“Didn’t your husband come home drunk last evening?”

“Your niece is slightly crazy, isn’t she ?” “Didn’t you go to that small lake resort last summer simply because it was so cheap?”

“Aren’t you dyeing your hair?”

They have no slightest right to ask the question. What’s more, they know they have no right to ask it. That puts them entirely in the wrong.

Hence you need not betray your secret just to gratify their curiosity. In fact, you can throw them completely off the track. You are protected by the fact that they really know well enough that their personal, prying, impertinent question is a direct effort to rob you of your secret, and hence deserves no consideration whatsoever.

KINDS OF LIES LIES FALL, AS A RULE, INTO ONE OF THREE CLASSES

Jocose lies;

Lies of convenience;

Destructive lies;

As a general rule, lies are venial sins. They can become mortal sins when they do real harm to someone or have some other destructive consequences. When the damage done by a lie is serious, then the lie can become seriously sinful.

JUST FOR FUN

Jocose or humorous or boastful lies usually have some connection with personal vanity or some other small vice. Fishermen’s lies are of this type. One brags that he caught a three-pound black bass, when the bass weighed only thirteen ounces. Another tells of humorous adventures that happened to him personally, when, as a matter of fact, they happened” to someone else, and he just appropriated them in order to improve his own story. Another exaggerates in order to spice his yarn. Another appropriates someone else’s achievement just to make himself seem a great fellow.

Seldo m do these lies hurt anyone other than the person who tells them; they do him harm. But we’ll come to that after a bit.

Lies of convenience are untruths told to get oneself out of a jam, to prevent trouble, to forestall difficulties, to make up for laziness or some other fault, or to bring us some small honour or a reputation that we really do not rate.

CHEATING

We arrive late for an engagement. As a matter of fact, we were just lazy; we over- slept. But we have arranged a pleasant little lie of convenience. So, when we arrive, we say: “So sorry I was late, but my car was held up at the bridge while a boat was going through; and really it was the longest boat, and it seemed to take hours before the bridge was closed again. You know how I hate to be late, but . .

We have simply forestalled trouble by spinning a yarn; for there was no boat, no enforced delay -except our own laziness.

We have failed to do our book report.

“Oh,” we cry, indignantly, “I left it home alongside my typewriter. I”11 be sure to bring it tomorrow.”

And we dash home to start the thing, which thus far had never felt the impact of a typewriter key.

Says the young lady: “Oh, I got three invitations for Saturday, and I really didn’t know which one to choose.” Choice hadn’t been so difficult; for she really had had only one invitation and had snapped at it with avidity. The two others were just little personal puffs hiding lies of convenience.

“When I was a youngster, I had the reputation for being the hardest slugger in our league. You ought to see me put that ball over the fence. . . .” “Darling, I”m sorry I came home so late, but I was sitting up with a sick friend. . . .” “My grand- mother died. . . . May I go to the game-I mean to her funeral? . . .” “This hat cost eleven dollars”-minus eight dollars and ninety-five cents.

Cheating in class usually comes under this head. The student has not studied as he should have done. Along comes the examination. He can steal a few extra points, and turn the eighty, which he deserves, into a lying ninety, which he does not deserve. He cheats and lives the lie. Or he would like to be thought brighter than he really is. He rates a C; he manages to steal a B. And he struts the B as if it really belonged to him. It’s a lie, a mean one, though one that lazy, vain human nature finds easy to understand.

LIES THAT HURT

Destructive lies, however, are very different. These are lies that do positive harm to others.

The banker whose bank is tottering to a fall brags about how sound and solvent it is. People trust him and put their money into his bank, and his lie wipes them out. An unscrupulous doctor tells a patient he has some fatal disease, which is not there at all; by appearing to cure him, the doctor can make a fat fee. One person lies about another person, accusing him of a crime he never committed. The lie has become slander, a new and vicious type of lying. Under oath a person gives false evidence that leads to the conviction of an innocent person. This is perjury, another deadly kind of lie.

So it may happen that the lies of children deceive parents about really important things. They cover up the fact that one of the children is slipping away from school and going with bad companions. The lie will result in horrible damage to the guilty person’s character. They themselves lie about where they intend to go, what they have been doing, who have been their companions. If their lie is the cover-up for their evil conduct, it is a damaging lie and hence decidedly evil.

WHY WRONG?

Now, the thing that makes all lies bad, even slight lies -the lies told to make people think we are clever or to get us out of a jam, the lies that hurt no one but the teller-is best explained by these simple propositions:

Men and women were meant by God to live with their fellows in society.

In society speech is absolutely necessary. It binds men together. It makes human society entirely different from animal society-as, for example, a family or a State differs from an ant-hill or a beehive.

Now, lies destroy the trustworthiness of speech.

Hence, with the trustworthiness of speech gone, it becomes impossible to have decent, sound society itself.

Hence, lies destroy society by destroying the trustworthiness of speech, which alone makes human, properly functioning society possible.

INTO SOCIETY

That is a chain of reasoning which hardly needs explanation.

We all know the human necessity and naturalness of society. We are born into the family. We enjoy constantly the privileges and advantages of the State. We are happy. in the graces and blessings that come to us through the Church. Then, as if these three societies were not enough, we join our varied clubs-social, athletic, music, dramatic, political, literary, scientific.

Quite clearly we see the place of speech in these societies. Up to the time when they were taught the sign language, deaf-mutes remained alien members of society. They could not take part in social life. They lingered on its fringes, cut off from all the real privileges of society.

The family must talk and plan together. The State depends upon the power of men to convey their ideas to one another. The Church rests heavily on its liturgy and the spoken word. Indeed, all social life begins with the power of men and women to talk with one another, discussing, planning, collaborating, checking up, correcting, developing new projects and programmes.

THE LIE DESTROYS

Along comes the lie. It attacks speech itself. It undermines that means of communication that exists for the purpose of binding men and women together in society. People lose their trust in speech. They can’t believe what they hear. The results:

Well we have them sim ply expressed in the ancient parable of the young shepherd who cried, “Wolf! wolf!” once too often. You remember the fable, of course: The boy watched the sheep on the hillside. The villagers promised him that, if he saw a wolf and shouted for help, they would come and save his sheep. So, just for a joke- a jocose lie, you see-he cried out, “Wolf! wolf!” though there was none in sight. The villagers came running; and when he saw their angry expressions, he thought it was a great joke. He tried the joke a second time, and a third, always getting a big laugh and thinking what fools he’d made of the villagers. Then, you remember, a wolf really came along. This time the boy was perfectly sincere when he shouted, “Wolf! wolf!” But none of the villagers came. They thought he was joking again.

They’d been fooled by three of his lies, so now they took it for granted that he was telling another lie. And the boy stood helplessly by while the wolves destroyed his flock.

The very fact that the fable is ancient and stale makes it that much more valuable as illustration.

The boy was part of society. The protective arm of society was around him. All he had to do was speak, and the arm was ready to ward off danger. He did speak, but in a lie. The arm moved to help him. The villagers, his associates, found themselves tricked, began to grow distrustful. He lied again. Their distrust deepened. He lied again. Their distrust was now established. The fourth time he spoke the truth. But nobody believed him. He had not only harmed himself; he had destroyed the belief that his little society had in the thing called speech.

TRUST GONE

Reverting to Henry James’s “The liar” once more, we note that, in the course of time, the liar reaches a point where his speech is absolutely valueless. He says, “I was in a drenching rain,” and people smile and say, “Probably not a drop of rain for months.” He says, “I”ve been feeling very well,” and they annotate that to mean, “He must have been flat on his back.” lie says, “Nice fellow, that; honest as the day is long. I”ve associated with him for years, and he’s a grand chap.” And his listeners are sure that the chap is a scoundrel and a thief and probably as big a blackguard as the liar himself.

We ourselves know how we soon come to think about a person whose regard for the truth is a little casual.

“Oh, he’s such an exaggerator,” we say. “Maybe what he says is really true; but I always knock off about fifty per cent. just to be safe.”

Or: “Really you can’t believe a word she says. She’d say anything to make a good story. I honestly think she doesn’t know when she’s lying any more.”

And that probably describes exactly her state of mind. She has made doubtful the honest coins of speech with so much counterfeit that she isn’t sure any more which is genuine and which is fake. She lies without knowing that she lies. She so blends truth and lie, fact and fiction, that everyone, including herself, is confused. The result is that her speech is valueless. No one pays any attention to her. Her listeners are amused, but her speech has no connection with the important things of life.

LYING FIGURES

Among the Panama shopkeepers who exist for and on the American tourists, lying became the normally-accepted custom.

You entered a shop and picked up a piece of carved ivory, for example.

“How much?” you asked the Hindu who was behind the counter.

“Fifteen dollars,” he said, without a blush or a flicker of his oriental eyelids.

Now, you knew, if you knew anything at all about Panama, that he was lying. Of course, if you didn’t know, you might pay the fifteen dollars; and when later you learned how you’d been tricked, you’d swear never to buy another thing he offered, no matter what the price. But most travellers knew better.

“Nonsense,” you said. “I”11 give you a dollar.”

Then began the endless haggling. In the end, you probably got your ivory trinket for about five dollars, which might at that be a dollar more than he had hoped you’d pay.

The result of this universal system of lying was that Americans stopped buying any article that they had not first priced in America. They bought French perfumes, because they knew what those perfumes were worth on Madison Avenue or Michigan Avenue. Other stuff they just let lie, unless they had with them some honest American merchant who could tell them exactly what the article was worth.

In time the merchants of Panama realised their mistake. The better shops put up the signs, “One Price Store.” That meant that the articles were plainly marked; the first price asked was the price at which the goods would be sold, and the customers had some assurance that words meant what they were supposed to mean and that figures didn’t lie.

At that many a Panama shop still waits to “gyp” the unwary traveller. And older travellers who return to Panama will argue and bargain in the one-price shops, taking it for granted that the first price is a lie, and that only by endless haggling will they get at the true price.

TOO FUNNY

Even exaggerators . . .

Well, take the famous case of Proctor Knott. In Congress on a certain occasion he made a speech on Duluth that every student of oratory knows by heart. It was a highly satirical speech, a mass of exaggerations, hyperbole, high-flown nonsense, and deliberate misstatement. I need hardly say that Knott was merely being funny, very funny, and in no sense a liar. But the result of that speech on his career was disastrous. People remembered how he had misused words; and every time he rose to speak, they began to laugh. He said, “It’s a nice day”; and they were sure he meant, “It’s raining Airedales and maltese kittens.” He asked for appropriations, and they hooted with mirth as they cut those appropriations out of the bills.

Quite without intending it, he had debased language. Once having misused it, he was never again permitted to use it correctly.

TRUST IS GONE

The old saying is, “Never trust a liar, even when he seems to speak the truth.” All that that means is that he has so twisted speech from its real purpose that his speech doesn’t deserve our attention. Maybe he is not lying. But we are safe in pretending that he is lying.

So speech, the foundation of social relationship, the bond between men, is by the lie and the liar made unfit for human use.

There’s Hitler, for instance. If to-morrow he were in all sincerity to promise the United States that under no circumstances would he be other than our friend, we’d say, “You liar!” He might be telling the truth. He might have suffered a sincere repentance and developed a deep and passionate love for us Americans. But we would remember his promises made to Chamberlain, to the Czechs, to the French, to the Dutch, to the Belgians, to the Slavs. We’d say, “If he says he loves us, that probably means he hates us; and if he says he means to help us, that is a sure sign he is planning to invade us.”

SOCIAL ENEMY

That type of corruption of language ends all possibility of human society. The liar is one of the greatest enemies that society can have. He is the counterfeiter of words. He is the maker of false weights and measures for our speech. He is the dishonest shopkeeper whose goods are phrases and sentences. He comes to us as a friend, and he tricks our mind with the twist of his speech and the poison he injects into his words.

For that reason, because speech is right at the base of all human society, a lie can never be permitted. If it were once permitted, where would the damage end?

Let’s say we would make this rule: “You may tell a lie if that is necessary to avoid a great personal inconvenience.” What is a great personal inconvenience? For little Johnny it is not going to the movies this afternoon. For the bank cashier it is facing the bank examiner. For a wife it is the matter of making her husband angry. For a student it is getting a low mark in mathematics. So Johnny decides he can lie; and the bank cashier feels he can alter his books; and the wife tells her husband a yarn; and the student cheats in his examination. . . . And there has begun the endless chain that goes on and on and on to the complete destruction of all the trust we could possibly have in human beings.

GREATER GOOD

For each time they told us something, we’d have to stop and ask ourselves: “Is this true? Or are they telling us this to save themselves a great inconvenience ?”

The dear abbess, when she lied, thought she was saving the heroine from more trouble. She may have been doing that. But she was attacking society itself. She was corrupting truth. She argued: “A lie is all right if it prevents some great an- noyance.”

But, pursuing that line of thought, anyone faced with a great annoyance could do exactly the same thing. So you and I and all the rest of the human race would never know when the thing we were told was the truth and when it was merely something that saved someone else from getting into a jam.

Hence a lie is wrong because it attacks speech.

Attacking and destroying speech, it attacks our trust in our fellow men.

Once that trust is gone, society cannot exist in peace and confidence.

So a lie is a blow against society itself,

HABITS GROW

All vices begin with a single act.

Every once in a while another Bluebeard darkens the pages of our criminal records. He has to his discredit a dozen or so wives all nicely buried in the back yard. The dear maiden aunts in “Arsenic and Old Lace” had a dozen old men comfortably tucked away in their basement. But both Blue-beard and the old aunts began with a single murder; the habit developed only by degrees.

Lying, however, is a vice that develops very swiftly.

The first lie is usually followed by a half-dozen protective lies. We tell a yarn, and then we find we have to tell another yarn to cover the first one, and half a dozen more to cover the original two-until we are wound round with a network of lies, each lie as fine as a strand of cobweb and the whole mass choking our very souls.

AND HOW!

Lies are often the source of thoughtless praise, an easy reputation, a lot of convenience.

A child is in danger of being punished for disobedience, so he lies to his parents.

Since they prefer to believe him, his lie passes; he gets away with it. “Not bad.” he thinks; “in fact, positively easy. I”11 remember that the next time I”m on the spot.” So lie number one is followed swiftly by lie number two. This time the parents find him out. They are embarrassed to know they have a child who is a liar. But perhaps in the goodness-and folly-of their hearts they argue, “He’ll outgrow it.” Instead he meets fresh emergencies with fresh lies, and in no time at all he is a confirmed liar, handling all problems by lying his way out-or deeper in.

The young person finds that people look at him with astonishment and perhaps a little envy when he puffs up his personal adventures a bit. So he starts regularly to expand the truth. Boys are that way about their conquests. Young men are horrible liars in case after caseabout the girls who “fell victim” to their” irresistible ways. Men grow to lie, too, about their golf score, their athletic prowess, their income, all their accomplishments. It is so much easier to talk big than to act big.

BRAGGING

Many liars develop a dramatic sense that makes the sheer truth seem almost not worth mentioning. If they catch a perch, it dramatically becomes a pickerel. If the boy tells her she looks pretty to-night, she expands the compliments into practically a proposal. If they see a strange man walking down the street in their direction, he soon becomes a footpad from whom they escaped by the skin of their teeth. If he puts over a good deal, he swells the actual commission from a reasonable sum into the salary of a bank president. If the vacation was pleasant, it is retold as a Halliburton adventure.

So new acquaintances smile bewilderedly. Old friends hoot internally. And the only one really taken in by the lies is the liar himself.

LOST

Once the habit has really gripped a victim, he is almost a lost person. I have always thought that a person who has become accustomed to saying, “I ain’t seen no guy around here,” finds it almost unemphatic to say, “I haven’t seen anyone here.” If he has become accustomed to the power of a double negative, like “I won’t do nothing about it,” he thinks it a little sissified to say, “I won’t do anything about it.”

And a liar finds the truth a little pale and insipid after the red double negatives of his lies.

He goes on from lie to lie. In his own eyes he becomes great. He feels himself an important personage in his talk. And he fails to see the doubt and scepticism and tolerant amusement or real pity in the eyes of his listeners.

THE LINE

I am almost tempted to go for a minute into the sidetrack of the young people’s modern line. We emphasise the word because it verges on a foreign language; it belongs to the patois of the very young. But there is the line of exaggerated flattery and stereotyped honeyed compliments with which a young man plays the young lady whom he hopes to pull up to the boat. And there is the line of tremendous interest and alert questioning and consuming personal regard with which a young lady nets her young man.

Years ago there was current an amusing story of the young fellow whose line consisted in his telling every young woman he met that she looked like the famous operatic beauty, Nellie Melba. Since Melba was undoubtedly a gloriouslooking woman, any girl naturally felt top-of-theworld when her escort announced, “Do you know, you look exactly like Melba!”

But -it happens to most liars or throwers of a line-fate caught up with the young man. The girls began to compare notes and to find that all the girls he had ever taken out looked-by some singular coincidence-exactly like the lovely Melba.

So, one morning, to his horror, and to the ending of his line, he got an invitation -signed by all the girls he had taken out-inviting him to be present at the opening meeting of the We-Look-Like-Melba Club. The girls designated him as president and organiser and themselves as charter members.

Perhaps the only thing that keeps most youthful lines from being lies (the difference rests with a single consonant) is the fact that the spinner really doesn’t think that the listener will be stupid enough to believe them. Unfortunately many listeners do believe them. And that too often kicks that important consonant right out of the line.

FOUND OUT

This much, however, is certain: Whether. the lie takes the form of the line, whether the liar lies because he wants to take to himself credit for things that he never did or for adventures that happened to another, whether he lies just to build himself up or to get himself out of corners, the one outstanding fact is that liars are always found out.

That is why we quote this second pro verb: “Liars should have long memories.”

They have to hate long memories. They must have an exact recollection of the lie they told and the circumstances they built around it. And few liars have such memories. That is why district attorneys who put liars on the witness stand can make the moments of questioning utterly miserable for them and tie them into quivering knots. It is not too difficult to remember what one has done; it takes a long memory to recall just what one said one has done. And to keep in separate mental compartments the things that really have happened and the things that one has said have happened, to keep from crashing together the truth as it really was and the fiction we have built up around the truth-that takes care and mental alertness and a great gift for the untangling of twisted lines.

Liars have a way of telling one story to one person and another story to a second person and still another to a third person. Then they have the additional task of trying to remember which story it was they told to which person. There even the most expert slip-whereupon the situation becomes both funny and tragic.

TIED TO OTHER VICES

Usually lying is not an isolated vice. It arises from some other weakness of character. If we could analyse the liar, we would find out readily enough just what makes him lie. In almost every case he lies because of some defect in his character, some vice that is burrowing in his soul.

There is the coward, for instance, the fellow who is afraid to face life as it is or to take the consequences of his mistakes and wrongdoing. He writhes at. thethought of a reprimand”. He can’t stand correction. If he sees the threat of punishment over his head, he winces and “welches”“ . . . and struggles to escape. And his first recourse is to lying. A lie is the rat-hole of the coward. Envy finds its most frequent expression through a lie. The envious person can’t bear to think that someone else has a virtue or an accomplishment or a record that outshines his own. So he lies away, as far as he can, the achievements of the other. Or he lies about his own dull life and lack-lustre accomplishments, hoping to puff up with words what he has not built up with deeds.

Pride is the source of vast numbers of lies. In the keen desire to be honoured, a man lies about what he is, about his family, about his income, about his business, about his athletic abilities, about his job.

LIES FOR BAIT

And what lies are told by the lustful! The young man tells the young woman that he cannot live without her, when the lie of his words “merely covers the lust of his” passion. The young man torments the girl with a vivid recital of how he cannot sleep because of his yearning for her, how she is responsible for his troubled state, how he means to marry her and will marry her-when all he wants is an easy partner for his sin.

The trap of lust is baited with lies. Unfortunately, even good and sensible girls who long to find love will accept its lying masquerade and allow themselves to be persuaded against what they know to be true and right and decent.

FATE FALLS

The fate of all liars is the same: the universal distrust of their acquaintances, the dislike of those whom they have harmed by their lies.

People who are strong feel for liars a kind of pity. They seem so like little children to whom words mean nothing. They have so little control over their imaginations. Their tongues run away with them in a mad gallop, like frightened mules on a hillside. One pities them for their stupidity; they think they are getting away with their lies. One pities them for their cowardice; they are so obviously hiding behind a lie because they are afraid. One pities them for the contempt that surrounds them, a contempt that grows with the years.

Contempt is not too strong a word; honest men disdain and despise a liar. The braggart is a pitiful spectacle, for men of achievement look down upon the man whose deeds are done with his tongue. The woman who tries to build up her reputation by pulling down the reputation of another ends up with no friends who will trust her and few acquaintances who will even listen to her.

And, though they may not say it to his face, people soon come to summarise the liar behind his back in that blasting epitome: “What a liar!” And that is more than a statement or character summary; it is a rude and final dismissal from the ranks of civilised society.

LOOKING FOR TROUBLE

While it is absolutely true that a lie is always wrong, one is not always obliged to blurt out the truth. Take, for example, the pest who says, “Believe me, I always speak my mind,” or, “I told him what I thought of him!” or, “There were a lot of unpleasant things I thought he ought to know, so I took the chance to tell him.”

Not lying is one thing; forcing unpleasant or uncalled-for truth on a person is quite another. Nor is one obliged or at times even permitted to tell a fact which cannot be told and must not be told, because the telling of it would betray a legitimate secret.

“I always speak my mind.” Why? There are times when the one way to handle a situation is not to say anything at all. Here is a person who does not want to hear the truth. We are probably wasting good energy if we tell it to him. Here is a person whom the truth would only irritate and infuriate. Teachers have met parents who are like that; they refuse to listen to the truth about their unruly or erring children. Here is a difficult situation, let’s say, that has come to my attention. Little can be done to remedy it. I can pray over it and do my best to cure it; to tell it to someone else would only make the case worse.

BLURTING TRUTH

An acquaintance of mine has defects that I do not like. Before I blurt out to him the raw truth, I should ask myself and answer a number of questions. Does he want to know the truth? Would the knowledge of the truth make any difference in his conduct? Would my power of influencing him for good be lost if I spoke my mind? Has he enough respect for me to care what I think about him?

The type of person who always goes about blurting out unpleasant truths is often merely a troublemaker. The truth does not make everyone glad. What I think of a certain person is my own concern, and he might be happier if he did not know what I think of him. It is not hypocrisy that keeps me silent; it is merely a decent regard for the feelings of others.

Truth-telling is a high ideal. But the telling of truth does not always mean the telling of unpleasant truth, the jolting of sensitive feelings, the disorganising- without correcting-of other people’s lives.

And if the truth has been given to me in confidence, if it is a secret that I have no right to tell, I simply may not blurt it forth, nor hand it over to the chance questioner who comes prying about. I have no slightest obligation to deliver up my secret. And that is that.

ARE YOUNG PEOPLE TRUTHFUL?

As I write these lines, I keep thinking of the many educators and guides of youth to-day who find truth-telling on the wane. To lie oneself out of trouble seems almost a current custom. Parents are treated to a graceful lie on the principle of “What they don’t know won’t hurt them.” Cheating, which is an easy way to lie about our abilities when the low mark we deserve is replaced by the high mark we stole, is entirely a matter of what the student can get away with. Girls lie themselves out of one date when they see the prospects of a better one. Boys lie to girls about their complete devotion to them, lyricising the love of an evening into the light of a life.

Whether or not this is true, I leave to my friendly readers to decide.

Instead, let me remind all of you, young people and old, of the bright and shining shield that is high honour.

HIGH HONOUR

“His word is as good as his bond,” say his friends about this businessman. What higher tribute could be paid him in a world that will never forget the dignity of the truthful man? “In all my life I have never known her to lie,” they say of the woman whose very eyes are bright with truth. A dozen other virtues are indicated in that single sentence, virtues that do not exist when love of truth is absent.

“He must be, the man I marry, utterly sincere.” A thousand times over have I heard and read that from young woman.

Sincerity is a quality that women list high among the virtues they want in their future husbands. Do you wonder at it? “I could trust my wife anywhere at any time with anyone,” boasts the proud husband, What a tribute to the wife he loves!

VIRTUOUS HABIT

Truth-telling is a matter of good habit, just as lying is a matter of vicious habit. Of course, truth-telling demands the courage to accept the consequences of one’s mistakes and wrongdoing, the courage not to blur error with the blot of a lie. It means a calm realisation of the importance of truth to human society; for only through truth is society able to trust its members and conduct its affairs calmly and confidently. Truth-telling obliges a man to rest his reputation on what he is and what he does, not on what he says he is and what he brags he has done. The truthful man is forced to eliminate from his” soul the petty vices that flourish in the manure bed of lies. The truthful woman is almost bound to be virtuous; she has no need of a cloak of lies that is used to cover shame and hide evil deeds.

When Christ came to characterise Himself, He stated truth as the second of His qualities; “I am the way [to eternal hap- piness], and the TRUTH, and the life [of man in time and forever beyond time].”

CHRIST AND TRUTH

For truth Christ lived. In the cause of truth He died. Through Him truth came into the world. Because He. would not forswear truth by the easy silence He might have used to cloak His divinity during an unjust trial, He went to His death.

And truth, His truth, strong human truth, too, will make us free. The liar is never free. He is not free from worry about the lies that will some day catch up with him. He is never free from the suspicion of those he has tried, to fool. He is not free from the petty vices nourished by his way of lying. He is a slave of a habit that grows and grows until it cuts him off from his fellows and makes him a lone figure, distrusted by those who know him well, regarded with instinctive aversion by those who sense that his speech is twisted.

TRUTH MAKES US FREE

But the truth shall make us free.

I am thinking, of course, of the truth that Christ came to teach to all men, the truth that makes men free to run the road to God, and lay claim to eternity and the mansions of the blessed.

But I am thinking, too, of the freedom of those who tell the truth and who shun lies, a freedom known here and now . . . They are free from the suspicion that hems a liar round . . .

That constant worry that his lies will not match and one lie will betray another . . .

The amused smile of the incredulous . . .

The bored pity of friends. .

The flat unbelief of those who have come to know him. .

Disdain of himself; for, whatever the world may call him, he knows himself to be a liar. .

The tangled web of lies that in the end drags him down to ruin.

They are free citizens who use their speech to promote human relationships and to build a stronger society. They are free to teach truth to the ignorant and give bright glimpses of truth to the young and eager. They are free with the freedom of high honour. They carry the invulnerable shield of their own strong character and the powerful lance of truth.

And while shield and lance may seem strange weapons in this age of tanks and “planes, honour and character and truth make up the uniform of the victorious soldier of the Lord, the lovely costume of the fair lady whose tongue is trustworthy because her soul is pure.

Nihil obstat:

F. MOYNIHAN,

Censor Deputatus.

Imprimatur:

@ DANIEL MANNIX,

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis.

********

Don’t Marry A Catholic!

BY DANIEL A. LORD, S.J

INDEX

THE audience looked shocked.

I could tell from their silence that they really were shocked, so quite frankly I was pleased. For I had hoped they would be shocked, since I had set myself to shock them.

The audience I knew to be at least fifty per cent non-Catholic. That section of the country had an historic reputation for not liking Catholics. And many had come to hear me out of sheerest curiosity; what sort of grisly creature was a priest- and a Jesuit priest at that?

But the question that I had been handed by the usher was the same question that had been sent up in every city where I had lectured on that particular tour, and this time I had tried a slightly different angle.

“What,” asked the scrawled note on the card we had been handing out for questions, “do you think of mixed marriages?”

UNFAIR TO THE PROTESTANT

So I had answered the question in all sincerity.

“I should strongly advise any non-Catholic not to marry a Catholic,” I answered, and one slight gasp punctuated the rather appalled silence. “I don’t think it’s fair to the Protestant (as it certainly is not to the Catholic), and I advise my

Protestant friends, of whom I have many, never, if they can avoid it, to fall in love with Catholics. “ Perhaps the odd part is that I meant exactly what I said.

Of course, it did need explanation; so for the benefit of those Catholics and non-Catholics who happen to find my answer a little startling, entirely out of line, maybe a little scandalous, let me take time to give some reasons.

A VERY WISE LETTER INDEED

A number of years ago I got one of the smartest letters ever written to me.

“I have just read your pamphlet,”Marry Your Own,” ran the very feminine script, “and I have broken my engagement. “ That pleased me, for the pamphlet was written to ward off as far as possible the unhappiness almost inevitable in mixed marriages. But the next sentence jolted me. “You see, I am a Methodist girl and I was engaged to marry a Catholic man. After reading your pamphlet, I was sure that I could not be happy married to a Catholic, so I have broken the engagement, and I am now going out to find me a fine young Methodist boy and marry him.”

My answer was brief and most sincere:

“My dear young lady, I most heartily congratulate you. You have good sense. I take it for granted that you are a sincere Methodist. In that case, find yourself a Methodist and marry him.”

But I could have changed that advice to suit the type of religion: “If you are a Baptist, marry a Baptist; if you are a Unitarian marry a Unitarian; if you are Jewish, by all means marry a Jewish partner; if you are a Christian Scientist, marry a Christian Scientist; if you are an unbeliever, find yourself another unbeliever; and if you are an atheist, marry an atheist and practise your lack of religion together.”

THE REASON IS SIMPLE

You see, modern marriage is a tough proposition. It takes a lot of expert handling to make it a success. And nothing is more fundamental than unity of faith or unity of a lack of faith. To start married life in total or radical disagreement about religion is to start marriage with a frightful handicap. There will be problems enough rising out of marriage without taking into marriage one of the biggest and most monumental.

A RIVAL PAMPHLET

Not quite so long ago, I was sent a pamphlet published by one of the evangelical churches. It is a church that I respect, for it has a creed, a code, and a cult; which simply means that it demands some faith of its members, insists on their practising some high degree of morality, and teaches its members how to worship God and work toward winning of heaven. In that it is quite different from another church of which one of its distinguished and more worldly members said comfortably:”I like my church; it never in the slightest interferes with my politics or my religion.” Incidentally, I didn’t think up that wisecrack; it is a direct quotation from an important Protestant whom I once met long enough to hear him make the comment.

In many ways I should agree entirely with this pamphlet.

For it begged the young members of the writer’s church not to marry Catholics. It listed a dozen excellent reasons why they shouldn’t. With most of them, I would most emphatically agree.

NOT ALTOGETHER

But then we parted company; for the minister who wrote the pamphlet went off on the subject of the promises. At considerable length he warned his young people that any non-Catholic marrying a Catholic had to make the pre-marital promises. On their word of honour, indeed usually under oath, in a signed document, the minister reminded. them, they had almost to renounce their faith and their”rights to that faith.”

They would not in any way try to interfere with their partner in the practise of a religion they regarded as false.

All the children must be baptized Catholics and none of them should be allowed to belong to the religion of the nonCatholic party.

All the children must be brought up with a Catholic education-and, the minister reminded his readers, this meant the parochial school, the diocesan high school or the convent academy, and finally college education in a Catholic college or university.

In other words, he reminded them that if they married a Catholic after they signed the promises, they were really being false to their own faith.

Either they believed their religion to be true or not. If they didn’t, he could hardly discuss the matter with them. But he was addressing sincere members of a strict evangelical church that taught that the Catholic faith was false, and that its doctrines and its practices were in notable error.

SURRENDER

So the non-Catholic who signed that series of promises, insisted the minister, agreed:

That he or she would leave the dear partner of marriage in what he is taught to regard as pernicious error. No effort would be made to save their souls from the so-called evils of the”Romish Church.”

That the children would be deprived of the “true and reformed faith.” They would be baptized into a Church that their ancestors, at least on one side of the family, had renounced for another. They would have to surrender their own children back to the arms of Rome.

That the children would be stripped of their chance of public school education or education in schools supported by that particular evangelic church and submitted instead to the training of priests and brothers and nuns in schools decorated with the crucifix, which was not the evangelical cross, and under the frowns of the pictured saints who were solidly Catholic, and in the atmosphere dominated by Mary and the Real Presence, which that faith did not believe to be either real or a presence.

So his conclusion was:

If you must marry a Catholic, don’t sign the promises. Make him or her come your way. Force these future partners, while they love you, to study your religion and win them over to your true faith. Don’t sign the promises; don’t betray your true religion.

I PAUSE TO DISAGREE

Now right here I must say we find the whole heart of our disagreement.

First of all, I take it for granted that our good friend, the minister-author, is a sincere believer in what he teaches and does himself. He ought to believe his church is the true one, or he certainly oughtn’t try to give its faith to others.

In this I find him singularly refreshing compared with another minister, who, approached by one of my Protestant friends, made an outstanding answer, one that surprised and shocked his own parishioner. The young man had fallen in love with a member of another Protestant church. He married her in a”neutral” church, one that neither of them attended, and then started going to his wife’s church. When he went to see his former pastor to explain why he was no longer appearing for services, the minister patted his shoulder in fatherly and reassuring fashion:

“That’s right, my boy; go to your wife’s church. It’s your obligation-and a wise course-to stick with her.” When the young man told me of this, he was delighted but amazed. He thought it mighty broad-minded of his former minister; but he was astounded that his pastor so willingly saw a member of his flock slip into another sheepfold.

SCRAMBLED

I am sure that my sincere minister-writer would be deeply annoyed by the conversation I overheard on a railroad diner. The exact wording of the comment I did not take down; its import I never forgot, and if I have made a few substitutions, the sense is exact. (And, also by the way, the incidents I am mentioning are all true, personal experiences. I am not writing from fancy or imagination.)

Said the speaker to his three male associates:”I’m a Baptist and my wife is a Presbyterian; but since we didn’t have any strong church connections, we were married in a Methodist church. Now we go to the Congregational church in our town, but one of our children is Episcopalian and one is a Christian Scientist. So I always feel that we are democratically scrambled in our religious connections.”

CAFETERIAN RELIGION

To a man with that loose approach to his type of religion, it wouldn’t make a great deal of difference into what religion he married . . unless, of course, he married a Catholic. For to him religion is not one faith taught by Christ, one way of salvation, but a sort of cafeteria service, and a man samples as he runs. They are all merely pleasant because none is essential. They offer something but none of them offers anything absolutely true.

But to return to my minister-author of the pamphlet, his final advice was “Not to sign the promises.”

With that I would agree, but only under a condition.

I should advise sincere Protestants or convinced Jews not to sign the promises-but not to attempt to marry the Catholic either. For the greatest possible mistake he could make would be not to sign the promises and still marry the Catholic.

That would be an almost infallible recipe for a doomed marriage.

Why?

THE REASONS ARE CLEAR

Catholics themselves recognize two kinds of Catholics:

There are good Catholics. There are bad Catholics.

So the young non-Catholic refuses to sign the promises, persuades the young Catholic to marry anyhow, and the marriage takes place-in a Protestant church, a Jewish synagogue or more usually in a snap-dash marriage in a registry office.

By that very act, if the Catholic had up to then been a good Catholic, he or she is convinced deep down and beyond any possibility of ridding his soul of that guilt, that he is now a bad Catholic.

As a priest, I could tell you of case after case of Catholics married in that fashion for twenty, thirty years, half a century; and still regarding themselves as bad, almost as doomed. They have acted directly against their faith. They have turned away from what they are convinced is the law of God. Indeed, if they are instructed Catholics, they are sure that they are not really married. In the eyes of men, yes; but in the eyes of God, no. I have seen bitter tears, after the lapse of half a century, flowing from the eyes of a man or woman who”married outside the Church” and, despite deep love for the partner and apparent success in life, has never really known happiness. The Catholic faith is root-deep. The Catholic Church maintains that Christ did not establish a social club, but a Church with obligations, responsibilities-a heavy charge over Christ’s sacraments, and a duty to see that people receive, not just a marriage licence, but the grace of a Christ-instituted sacrament. So Catholics who have once believed all that, go on believing it, even when love has led them to attempt marriage some other way. .

A man or woman who persuades a good Catholic to marry outside the Church is simply preparing for the partner of married life miserable days of remorse and long nights of sickness, worry, and disloyalty.

AVOID BAD CATHOLICS

But let’s say the man or woman who happens to be a Catholic is also what we Catholics regard as a”bad Catholic.” There are a variety of so-called Catholics whom we Catholics regard as”bad Catholics.” I would advise you to have no dealings with any of them, at least not with marriage in view.

There is the bad Catholic who is weak, sinful, with some bad habit, some sin that makes him a risk in marriage. A

Catholic drunkard a Catholic of uncontrolled temper. A Catholic cheat is no one on whom to stake your happiness. And

Catholics can be sinners, and on occasion are.

There is the Catholic who says he is a Catholic but who knows nothing about his faith. He wouldn’t, he claims, be anything else; but he frankly knows hardly any reason for staying a Catholic. He makes stupid statements about the

Church. He is full of wrong information. He will call himself (the newspapers often do) a”devout Catholic,” but he is also a highly unintelligent one.

There is the Catholic who is just on the fringe. He uses his religion as little as possible. He flirts with other religions.

He could be out-talked or out-argued by the representative of almost any other religion or anti-religion. It doesn’t take him long to be shown that his faith is all wrong; and he has a sneaking suspicion, even before the argument begins, that he is going to come off second best.

None of these”bad Catholics” make good partners in marriage. I should not want them to marry a good Catholic; and I see no reason why a Protestant should be stuck with them.

SOMETHING SPECIAL

For you see, a”bad Catholic” with us means something different from just a bad man or a sinful woman. That doesn’t mean he is a gangster or a murderer on the loose. It doesn’t imply that his morality is gutter-type and his language obscene. He need not be a liar or a sneak-thief. To us a bad Catholic is a Catholic who neglects his fundamental duty to God. He does not practise God’s religion. He does not worship God as God has commanded. He shrugs off the commandments of God and is contemptuous of what St. Paul taught in the Mystical Body of Christ, His Church.

Any non-Catholic who marries a bad Catholic (disloyal to his Church, living a life he regards as sinful, too weak to observe God’s law) has the sincere sympathies of every intelligent Catholic.

The bad or disloyal Catholic is a mighty bad marriage risk. And the man or woman who would attempt to marry against his Church without a struggle of conscience and real subsequent remorse is a bad Catholic.

Why a bad risk?

We regard a bad Catholic as a man or woman who has been disloyal to his first of all loyalties-his loyalty to God. If he has been disloyal to God, his disloyalty to his wife, or her disloyalty to her husband will be an easy second step.

We consider them as traitorous to the Kingdom of God on earth. That is deep treason. Anyone is a fool who marries a traitor to something deep and important.

He or she is clearly very casual about duty. He or she does not keep faith. He or she has slight hold on hope. He or she is not paying much attention to the first commandment given us by the Saviour:”Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with thy whole mind, heart, soul, and strength.” Failing in the first, he won’t find it too difficult to fail in the second, the love of his neighbour-including his partner in marriage.

WE DON ‘T LIKE BAD CATHOLICS

The Church is deeply ashamed of and embarrassed for its bad Catholics. They are the strongest objection met by anyone who defends the Church. They are like the citizens of a democracy who are really its enemies and who destroy democracy, and the crooked athletes who undermine sports. We should not want to pawn off any of our bad Catholics on anyone. We don’t want to see our non-Catholics stuck with a no-good Catholic man or woman.

The truth is that the”corruption of the best becomes the worst.” The intelligent Catholic has never denied that there are bad Catholics. Christ Himself foretold them in the terrible parable of the wheat and the cokle. Both good and bad would grow up in the field that He had sown and tended. And He would let them grow until the end when the wheat would be gathered and the cockle burned. The servants of the lord wanted to tear out the cockle at once. Almost strangely, the lord let them grow. So the Church does not fulminate its excommunications against bad Catholics unless they be notorious public scandals. (In some cases a Catholic who attempts marriage before a minister actually is excommunicated.) Only it would prefer not to see them passing themselves off as Catholics and marrying some nonCatholic to whom they bring their blighted faith, their corrupted loyalty, their slovenly attitude toward their carelessness about sin, and the thistles of their vices.

If you find that a Catholic shrugs his shoulders over the idea of marrying you outside the Church, you’re a fool to marry him. He is or she is a no-good Catholic; and you’re stupid to trust your life to the keeping of someone for whom we Catholics have slight esteem and much anxiety of soul.

AREN ‘T THERE JUST LAX CATHOLICS?

“But,” says my non-Catholic friend, “there are lax Catholics, aren’t there?

“The young person I want to marry certainly isn’t a devout Catholic; but he isn’t a bad one either. Sometimes he goes to Mass. He told me that he usually made his Easter duty. He thinks that there is good in all religions. But he loves me and he wants to please me by doing what I ask. I won’t make promises-and he wants to marry me. So I’ll not make them and we’ll be married, by way of compromise, by the registrar.”

Sorry, sister!

He’s still what we Catholics call a bad Catholic.The Lord said simply that “He that is not with Me is against Me.” Your young man is only the slimmest sort of a Catholic. A good Catholic must go to Mass every Sunday. He must make his Easter duty every year or he is not a practising Catholic. He can’t think that all religions are good any more than a professor of mathematics can think that two plus two makes four, five, or seven-and-a-half. You’re not getting a good Catholic or a lax Catholic, but a bad one. For your own sake, ditch him. Go get yourself a faithful member of your own church. Don’t ask for the personal loyalty of a man who hasn’t any loyalty toward his God or his religion.

THE REAL CONCLUSION

I should, were I in the place of the minister who wrote that pamphlet, most fervently advise my young people not to make the promises. For making the promises is a public statement that they have put their own religion in a bad second place.

But I should certainly not advise them, after refusing to make the promises, to go ahead and marry a Catholic. They are cheating him. But more than that, they are badly cheating themselves. They are setting the stage for a tragic disillusionment.

The person they marry has possibly been a good Catholic, and in that case some day he will break down and out of the tragedy of his soul, tell you the truth: He should not have given up his God for you; he should not have been loyal to you at the expense of loyalty to Christ’s Church; he should not have pretended all the time he was married to you, when he still believed what he had learned: that, for Catholics, marriage outside the Church is not marriage at all.

Or the person they marry is a bad Catholic, and they are starting their careers with someone for whom the Church has pity, good Catholics have regret, and any thinking man might well have distrust. One major disloyalty is easy prelude to a dozen others. His disloyalty in religion is an easy step toward disloyalty in marriage.

So if the minister wants to state something with which I, out of my experience, would entirely agree, let him state his case this way:

“As a loyal member of an evangelical church don’t make the promises necessary for marrying a Catholic; but don’t under any circumstances marry a Catholic.”

That would be logical. And admitting his own faith in his faith and his conviction that the young evangelical people were real believers in what they were taught and he believed, I would quite agree with him.

TOUGH CONDITIONING

When my non-Catholic father (later a converted Catholic) married my mother, he solved his problem very simply: He gave up whatever slight practice of his religion he once had known. He never went near a Protestant church again, save for the occasional funeral of close friends. He never felt that the Protestant religion made many claims on him, and he stopped being, except in the most negative sort of a way, a Protestant.

That was on the face of it easy.

Yet for my mother he gave up what religion he had. True, with later years, she gave him what he came to regard as the fullness of Christ’s religion. He found in the Catholic Church great joy for his declining years. After being first a Protestant, then religiously nothing at all, he became an excellent Catholic and was deeply happy in what he found.

But the immediate effect of his marriage was the dropping of his religion. I have often wondered what his father, to his death a practising Protestant minister, thought of this defection of his own son. It could not have made him very happy.

BOTH STOP

Many a”mixed marriage”-not merely between Catholics and non-Catholics, but between Baptists and Episcopalians, between Congregationalists and Unitarians, between Presbyterians and Lutherans, between Jews and evangelical Christians-is solved by that simple expedient: Both parties stop going to church.

Believe me, that is no solution for a Catholic in a mixed marriage. He does not so easily forget what is his serious duty. He can’t slough off his faith simply by not showing up at the parish Mass. He doesn’t cease to be a Catholic because he fails to receive the sacraments any longer. He has no more solved the problems induced by mixed marriage than a man could cure a sore toe by cutting off his leg. The process of ceasing to be a Catholic is much, much more than any question of stopping church attendance.

Any Catholic who gives up the practice of his faith goes through a revolution. He is likely to be rocked by internal convulsions. He is at least spiritually upset. After knowing the rich food of the Catholic faith, he is starved and hungry. He suffers real nostalgia, a deep homesickness. And he sometimes does strange and nasty, unpleasant or inexplicable things to free himself from bitter memories and to reassure himself that his new course is justified and right.

You don t remake Catholics easily into religious nothings.

You can make a bad Catholic into nothing, or even into a haphazard member of another faith. But bad Catholics are something I do not willingly wish off on you. And Catholics who have been educated in their faith cannot give it up without a shocking wrench. I should not envy the partner in marriage who has to live with a Catholic bothered by a guilty conscience, hungry for what he has lost, secretly eating out his heart for what, as the glamour of marriage dies away, seems a big price to have paid for any human being.

HERE ‘S WHAT IT MEANS

But let’s say that in all sincerity you, the non-Catholic, make the promises.

You are married to a Catholic on his terms.

A priest witnesses the marriage, either in the sacristy or outside the altar rail of the parish church. (I have always felt a little sorry for the non-Catholic bride married in the sacristy. On that big day of her culminated romance, she is subjected to a second-class sort of marriage. The Church realistically means it to be just that. It does not want Catholics to marry other than Catholics. It would realistically advise non-Catholics against marrying Catholics. So it has for this mixed marriage a brief ceremony, no official blessing, and something like ritualistic reluctance. Even where the marriage takes place in church, before the altar though outside the altar rail, the contrast to the Catholic Nuptial Mass is startling in its depth and scope. Anyone who has seen a Catholic couple married at a Nuptial Mass knows how the Church thinks married life ought to start. The brief ceremonial of the mixed marriage is scant courtesy by contrast.)

But the mixed marriage is the best the Catholic can arrange. The couple are truly married. Non-Catholic and Catholic are united and begin together their valid married life.

My claim is that the new life is extremely tough on the non-Catholic.

For just a moment, I am rubbing the Catholic considerations out of the picture entirely. I shall not even look at the problems of the Catholic in the mixed marriage.

My sympathies and considerations are now entirely for the non-Catholic.

DIFFERENT VIEWPOINTS

It all starts with an entirely different attitude of mind and heart toward marriage. Now, despite the vast differences, the non-Catholic is expected to accept the Catholic’s point of view.

Yet it took a lot of teaching, and some vigorous persuasion perhaps, for the Catholic to accept Christ’s attitude on marriage, as the Church holds it:

That one man and one woman are bound together for life.

That nothing in the world will ever excuse a divorce with remarriage.

That they must accept the children whom God sends to them.

That this is forever and a day, and they have to make the best of it in sickness and in health, in riches and in poverty, till death do them part.

Christ, when He spoke of marriage, was rebuilding an institution which had been shattered by the dissolute lives of the pagans and the somewhat casual Jewish attitude in His day toward the marriage bond.

No one can pretend that the high morality and noble law of Jesus Christ is easy to observe. And we should be fools to suggest that His attitude toward marriage was any easy concession to the natural man. Right now, we are not discussing the rightness or wrongness, the convenience or inconvenience of Christ’s views. We are just discussing the fact that the non-Catholic married to the Catholic finds a partner in marriage who has, and expects others to have, very strict ideas about the whole situation.

WHAT ‘S ALL THIS?

Now anyone taking obligations on himself ought to realize just what those obligations are. Any”all for love” nonsense must be ruled out. You are marrying a Catholic. A Catholic has very tough marriage laws. What’s more, he will expect you to follow him in accepting those laws.

So since the non-Catholic is now moving into the atmosphere of a Catholic marriage, he or she ought to understand that some changes may well have to be made in old familiar attitudes on the subject.

Most non-Catholics these days find divorce a very simple solution for the problems of marriage. If at first you don’t succeed, try, try again.”The Number Two Marriage is likely to profit by the mistakes of Marriage Number One.” “Divorced people often make very good second husbands and wives.” “If you can’t make a go of marriage, call it off; and start the next one.”

I do not wish to be unkind, to exaggerate, or to make fun of anyone. Yet that utterly casual attitude toward marriage, with the exception of a very few old conservative evangelical groups, is fairly universal.

So the non-Catholic finds the Catholic a mystery:

He (or she) just HAS to make a success of this marriage, for he has, pending the death of his partner, no second chance. The non-Catholic admits no such obligation, and the life-and-death attitude of the Catholic quite reasonably seems unreasonable.

So, should any question of divorce come up, the non-Catholic finds the Catholic totally without sympathy or a willingness to cooperate. He refuses to go along with the divorce in any expectation of remarriage. He is irritated that the partner thinks it any solution at all. He is very annoyed indeed that she will be free to enter another marriage while he is bound for life. She can’t understand what so upsets him; divorce with remarriage is a very normal thing in this world, and here he is regarding her as abnormal.

The two viewpoints are utterly divergent. And while the Catholic has come to accept that viewpoint after years of training in faith and the full acceptance of Christ s law, I can imagine the non-Catholic would be completely at sea to understand why all the fuss and the bull-headed objections to so simple a solution.

AND THOSE CHILDREN

Now the non-Catholic had better be very clear on the subject of the children. If she or he is not, he or she is in for some tough sledding.

The Catholic Church demands, the non-Catholic agrees to, and the Catholic reasonably expects a lot of things about the children. The non-Catholic had better take them into consideration before he or she plunges into this marriage. Later on will be too late.

All the children, without exception, will have to be baptized in the Catholic Church.

All the children, without exception, will have to get a Catholic education.

In case the Catholic parent dies, the non-Catholic parent must continue to see to it that the Catholic children (which means all of them) are brought up Catholics.

The non-Catholic parent must not expect the children to accompany him or her to a non-Catholic church even on rare or state occasions. The children go to the Catholic church and only to the Catholic church.

When the children are ready for school, the non-Catholic must consent that the children go to the Catholic schools and that means, in the wish and law of the Church, a complete Catholic education. Even if the non-Catholic parent wants the children in a beloved non-Catholic school, getting the same sort of training that had seemed to him a rare privilege and opportunity, it must still be the Catholic school.

Should the Catholic parent die, the obligation remains of giving the children a Catholic education.

The attitude of the Catholic Church on the subject of children would naturally appeal only to a Catholic. Yet a nonCatholic, accepting marriage to a Catholic, must also accept-probably without understanding it, possibly resenting it- the Church’s viewpoint.

For the Church is convinced that the Saviour established a Church and not divergent churches. The Church believes that baptism is essential for salvation and that when Christ called Himself the way, truth, and life, He was not thinking of various forked ways, discordant truths, and a pick-and-choose attitude toward life. The Church knows that the truth of Christ is magnificently complex, the structure that forms steel girders in the fabric of a career, of a character, and of a life; such truth needs the completeness of Catholic education and systematic training.

And the non-Catholic, knowing almost nothing of this, must accept the consequences without knowing or accepting the reasons.

Can you see why I advise a non-Catholic to be very slow about marrying a Catholic?

A DIFFICULT LIFE

My father, during his days before conversion to the Catholic Church, was, as ever afterward, a dear and generous man who loved my mother and who gave us children the full measure of his generous service.

Yet the Church into which he had married-without joining-endlessly baffled him.

Family arguments were mercifully few in our household; but one recurred, gently, persistently, with bewilderment on his part and an almost unexplained insistence on the part of my mother. He came of that tune of English ancestry that believed in big breakfasts. But once we had passed a certain age, my mother began a ridiculous practice:

She dragged us off in the early dawn of a wintry Sunday with nary a sign of breakfast.

The argument that ensued was proverbial:”Jane, why so early this morning?” “We’re going to Mass.”

“But you haven’t had any breakfast.” “Yes, dear, I know.”

“Now, Jane, you must not drag those children out without something warm in their stomachs.”

“This morning, dear, we are going to Holy Communion.”

“That’s wonderful, but can’t you give them some warm milk? Can’t you at least have a cup of coffee?”

Sunday after Sunday, year after ear the problem of a Catholic’s fasting baffled him, annoyed him, and until the time of his conversion remained one of our few family controversies.

If you are marrying a Catholic, you may as well steel your soul for some of the Catholic oddities.

After a time, you’ll get used to fish on Friday, though you may retain your good Protestant stomach (many Catholics have one) and turn away from fish in undisguised distaste.

QUESTIONING EYES

Ah, that awful cleavage.”You can, but the children and I. . . .

As a non-Catholic you’re in for a lot of that division.

The Catholic parent and the children go to Mass on Sunday; you are the outlander who doesn’t go. On Christmas morning, the parish Solemn High Mass is a lovely event. Either you go along, a stranger in the midst of something charming but strictly esoteric, or you stay home waiting for your family to return.

Lent implies things for the other sector of the family. What for you?

Parish retreats and novenas mean almost the breaking up of your home. Off go the Catholic and the children, every night and every morning for a full week. If you went along, it might nicely be an exciting and uniting experience. You ‘re out. If they invite you, you feel they are trying to dragoon you into their Church. If they don’t invite you, you are left out of something very important to them.

Surely this is Friday morning, and what are they all getting up for so early?

“Sorry, dear; it’s the First Friday.”

“So it’s the First Friday or the Fifth Tuesday. What’s so important that you’re up at the crack?”

“The children and I are making the Nine First Fridays. . . .

“Do you mean to tell me that every month for nine months, you’re going to wake me up and drag the children off like this? . . .

It’s asking a lot to expect understanding. On the other hand, it’s asking too much of the Catholic to expect a forgoing of this wonderful devotional life of the Church.

AH, AND THERE ‘S MONEY

A Catholic can be a good Catholic-in fact, a saint-and be utterly penniless.

Yet the normal Catholic is the sort of person who likes to pay his way. He is proud that his Church has no taxes from the Government and hence no Government interference. He rather brags that of necessity, since God and religion are not permitted in the public schools, he has built and supports by voluntary contributions the huge enterprise that is the Catholic school system.

All that is fine.

But now the non-Catholic finds that he is married to someone who has financial obligations to a Church. Did you ever hear of the parish envelopes on Sunday?

Have you heard the commandment of the Church which orders the faithful to contribute to the support of their pastors?

The Church does not, like many Protestant groups, tithe; but it believes with the Apostle that the labourer is worthy of his hire.

There will be mission collections to spread the Kingdom of God in the foreign lands.

And when the children come of school age, besides the normal taxes paid to the State, the Catholic will pay for the tuition of his children in the Catholic school system.

Have you taken all that into consideration?

You had better. You accept all this when you marry a Catholic.

JUST A MINUTE, NOW

You do know the law of the Church on the subject of children, don’t you? Then you know that the Church does not regard this as something it thought up, but as the unchangeable law of God, confirmed by the Saviour. It is adamant on the subject of artificial birth control. It demands that people who live together accept the consequences of their love. It says that those acts are against nature and the laws of the God of nature which frustrate the conception of children by artificial means.

That’s a heavy responsibility you are accepting.

You must accept the children God sends you, or, for the best and most serious of reasons, practise self-restraint.

As a non-Catholic perhaps nothing of the sort was asked of you. Married to a non-Catholic, the subject might never have come up. But you happen to be married to a Catholic.

A Catholic is taught that in the eyes of God frustration of conception is a mortal sin.

A Catholic cannot without serious offence against God practise artificial birth control.

You as a non-Catholic may not agree with this law. But you are married to someone who must either accept the law of Christ or stop living as a good Catholic.

YES, BUT I KNOW PEOPLE. . .

I can hear your quite understandable protest:

“Look, I know non-Catholics married to Catholics who are practising birth control.”

In some cases, the Catholics have agreed, and know they are living in serious sin. They love their non-Catholic partners too deeply to hurt their feelings. They go on doing what they are sure is mortal sin rather than interfere with the expressions of love. They prefer their partner to their God.

In. many a case, though, the Catholic is suffering intense remorse. The Catholic is living with a bad conscience. He or she is seriously disturbed. Love itself is taking a beating. The Catholics want love, yet they cannot accept love that means mortal sin. They are constantly torn between a God Who says:”You must not,” and a partner who pleads, “Please!” I know too many such intolerable situations to find them easy to pass over without this brief reference.

A non-Catholic married to a Catholic is bound by the rules of God and the Church on the subject of birth control. These are strict by many modern standards. They are based on a deep respect for human life. They demand sacrifices and restraints on the part of the married couple. Often they imply high heroism. Are you ready for all this?

YES, THERE IS AN ALTERNATIVE

So this is part of the reason why I advise a non-Catholic never to marry a Catholic.

“But,” you protest, “I love a Catholic, and I want to marry and that marriage is so essential to me that I should be miserable without it. Must I simply give up that Catholic? “

There are two alternatives, one of them snide and dishonourable, the other. . . .

Let’s take the snide, dishonourable one first.

Unfortunately, it happens too frequently to be passed over in silence. For there are bad non-Catholics as there are bad

Catholics. And in an age when honour has taken a severe heating, it is not surprising that there are dishonourable men and women.

Take a case:

John, a non-Catholic, has fallen madly in love with Joan. Marriage is essential for his happiness, for he has entered that period of emotional upset when he cannot, or so he protests, live without her. But Joan happens to be a very good Catholic, even if in this case a not too wise or provident one. So there are arguments, recriminations, breakups, and reconciliations, and in the end, John gives in.

Okay, he’ll make the promises.

HE MAKES AND BREAKS ‘EM

So he takes the instructions necessary before marriage to a Catholic.

Oh, you didn’t know about them? Well, this is as good a place as any to tell you that in this country before you can marry a Catholic, you must go to a priest and receive six or sometimes twelve instructions on Catholic faith, practice, and the Catholic attitude toward marriage.

The Church insists on this for many good reasons:

1. A non-Catholic ought to know a little something about what his or her Catholic partner in marriage believes concerning God and the way to salvation.

2. It is only fair that they, the non-Catholics, find out clearly what they have agreed to when they marry Catholics; they should not be blindfolded by love into accepting something that never was explained to them.

3. Perhaps the Church feels that if they know something about the faith of their future partner, they may be led to consider it seriously.

So John agrees to the instructions, through which he sits in a sort of docile daze. His mind is on the girl, far from the perhaps not too inspiring presentation of the faith by the priest who instructs him.

And at the end, with a glib pen, he signs the promises.

Why not? He hasn’t the slightest intention of keeping them!

A WALK-OUT

As the girl who has married him shortly finds out.

“Now we’re married, Joan; now I’ve got you, and I know this much about Catholics: once they are married, they are married for good. But as far as the promises are concerned, I do not intend to keep them.

“First of all, they are Catholic promises and they do not bind me, a non-Catholic.

“Then I regard them as unfair to me and my children.

“So, no matter what I told your priest, I made them with no intention of ever doing anything about them. What a person promises under conditions like that, simply doesn’t bind. And I regard myself just as free as if I had never made them.”

HOW ABOUT THAT?

As I say, that is a tough situation for the Catholic party, and yet it is a situation in which many a Catholic husband or Catholic wife finds himself these days. The non-Catholic under the impulse of love and out of determination to win the Catholic to marriage will make the promises and then gaily walk right out on them.

Right?

Well there is the whole question of honour, which is not a matter of Church law but of the law of God.

The non-Catholic party signed a lie, and lies are pretty nasty business. He or she said he meant to do something and didn’t mean it for one moment. The non-Catholic solemnly protested he intended to follow one course of conduct, and all the time he meant to do something entirely the opposite.

That is why I called the conduct-this alternative-snide.

The non-Catholic has tricked and cheated the Catholic. The marriage begins with a lie and in deceit. The Catholic has been won by false promises. The marriage now begins with the ugly fact revealed: The Catholic is married to a liar, to a trickster, to a cheat.

But, protests the non-Catholic, I am not bound by Catholic law. Granted. You had no obligation to marry the Catholic; in fact, I have advised you as others probably advised you before marriage, not to go ahead with the wedding. But lying is not against Church law. The violation of a written promise is not something that the Church alone regards as ugly and contemptible. Honour is a great natural virtue binding on all. And no one may trick a future partner as has been done in this case.

We are dealing here not with a crime thought up by the Church but with a crime against nature, against love, against someone supposedly dear and beloved.

That is the contemptible alternative; and I’d say the sort of thing that any person of decency or honour, with any regard for truth or a pledged, signed, and solemnly given word should avoid at all costs.

Don’t sign the promises if they offend your beliefs.

But don’t sign them with your tongue in your cheek and a lie on your lips; and then expect your marriage to a Catholic to be other than a fraud started with deceit and carried on in treachery.

THE RIGHT ALTERNATIVE

There is one other alternative, and I suggest it as the only proper one.

Don’t stay a non-Catholic and try to marry a Catholic.

But if you feel that marriage to a Catholic is the thing that will make you happy, become a Catholic and make it a really happy marriage.

Don ‘t think you can”join the Church” as you can join, let’s say, the Elks or a poker club. You don’t become a Catholic just to marry a Catholic. That is unfair to the Catholic and to yourself. Being a Catholic is accepting a way if life, Christ’s way of life, not just taking up a new name, a new club membership, something that can be shrugged off right after the marriage.

Converts go through conversion, a change of mind and heart. This is serious and important. “I’ll join the Church to marry you” is poor prelude to a happy or honest marriage. If you don’t believe that the Church is Christ’s Church, “joining it” to marry is a road to happiness neither for you nor the Catholic. Indeed, it’s a fine prelude to a miserable partnership, devoid of sincerity or trust.

Remember that as a non-Catholic you have never been taught (save in a very few rather unusual and minority religions) that your church is right and that all other religions are wrong.

It’s a ten-to-one bet these days that you were taught that all religions are equally good. One religion is as good as another. It doesn’t make a great deal of difference what you believe, provided you act correctly. There is nothing very startling about a transition from being a Methodist to being a Presbyterian or a Baptist. In fact, the easy moves from one Protestant church to another are characteristic of our times.

I’ll admit that most non-Catholics make an exception for the move into the Catholic Church. That they regard as something quite different-and indeed it is.

POSSIBLE APPROVAL

But since most non-Catholic religions are broad in their attitudes, don’t feel that there is any absolute religious truth, advise their members to read the Bible and find the truth for themselves, and feel that the individual conscience is the ultimate rule of faith, you might avail yourself of those attitudes.

See if the Catholic Church isn ‘t at least as good as the church you belong to, or used to follow. (You’ll find out that it has all the truth that your church taught truly and so much more truth that is wonderful and consoling and Christ-like and divinely revealed.)

Search your Bible and find out how very Catholic the Bible is. (You ‘11first discover that the Protestant church to which you belonged wouldn’t have had a Bible at all, except for the Catholic Church. And then you’ll learn how the Bible proves what the Church teaches, and that the Catholic accepts the full and complete Bible.)

YOUR CONSCIENCE

If your conscience is your ultimate rule of faith, why not question your own conscience?

Will you be happy married to someone separated from yourself by faith and religious practice?

Will you want to bring up your children Catholics if you believe the Catholic faith is false?

Will you want your children to regard you as a heretic? As Catholics, they regrettably will.

Will you want to be separated from your family in the fundamental things which are their attendance at church, their approach to God, their hope of the eternity God would like you to spend together?

It might well be that what you heard about the Church will turn out to be untrue. Most people do not hate the Catholic

Church; they hate the lies they have heard about the Catholic Church. Find out if these are lies. Find out what the Church really teaches and what Catholics are supposed to do.

Your conscience may turn out to be really your guide. And it may guide you, as I sincerely believe it will, right into the

Catholic Church at the side of your partner in marriage along with the children you have promised to bring up in what hitherto was an alien faith.

PLEASE COME IN!

If you are a non-Catholic, and are interested in a Catholic, find out what your Catholic interest believes and practises and why he or she is as he is. If you find you agree, become a Catholic. If you find you can’t agree, go off and marry someone else.

But if you are a Catholic, you are wise to put the case very strongly to your non-Catholic suitor-or pursued:

“Marriage between Catholics and non-Catholics is much harder than any other kind.

“Quite frankly, it will be hard on you. We Catholics have strict ideas about marriage and our religion is one that makes demands upon us. We accept all this for the wonderful things which come from the religion of Christ. You will have to carry the burdens without the blessings, observe many of our laws without our larger Liberty of Christ.

“I dread our children’s regarding you as a religious stranger, as a heretic, as one who does not understand their love of Christ in the Eucharist, their childlike devotion to Mary, their growing enthusiasm for their faith, the practices which they cannot share with you.

“I want to be united with you in everything, mostly in my faith and my hope and my love of God.

“The Catholic Church does not believe that all religions are equally good and that people may pick and choose from any of the churches without offending God. The Church teaches—as Christ does-that one either possesses truth or is in error, follows Christ or is against Him, is a member of the Mystical Body or a withered and cut-off branch. I cannot go your way; but you can come mine.

FIRST PLEASE

“Before anything further happens please find out what it means to be a Catholic.

“If in all sincerity you are impressed and convinced, become a Catholic and we shall find happiness and unity in marriage. Without unity of faith, there is too big a hazard to our future. I cannot risk it. I should not ask you to risk it. “Don’t make the promises that will force you to put your church in second place. But see if my Church is right when it claims to be in first place, Christ’s Church, Christ’s only Church.

“If you become a Catholic, we’ll go ahead and marry.

“ If you will not, let’s drop it all. Love is not the whole of marriage. And you will find someone of your own faith and I shall look for someone who is a Catholic. That way lies happiness, not in the mixed marriage we propose.

I should love to marry you as a Catholic. You will be unwise to marry me if you are not a Catholic, and I cannot be unfair to one I love.”

SIMPLER STILL

Or there is a still easier way:

If you are a non-Catholic interested in a Catholic, read this booklet carefully, and make the wise decision. If you are a Catholic interested in a non-Catholic, give the person this booklet.

And if you be a non-Catholic reader, make this wise decision:

Either become a Catholic. .

Or go and marry someone of your own faith.

The third road in marriage is unfair to you, too difficult, and in the overwhelming majority of cases doomed to failure and unhappiness.

Nihil Obstat:

W. M. COLLINS, Diocesan Censor.

Imprimatur:

@ D. MANNIX,

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis. 20th December, 1954.

********

Don’t Risk It

THE RICH MAN ALSO DIED: AND HE WAS BURIED IN HELL.” (LUKE XVI. 22)

BY REV. R. STEVENSON, S.J

INDEX

We have often read, or heard told, the story of the rich young man who refused the call of Christ, and we remember Our Lord’s words on that occasion :”Amen, I say to you, that a rich man shall hardly enter the Kingdom of Heaven . . . it is easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle, than for a rich man to enter into the Kingdom of Heaven!” (Matt. xix.)

With his refusal of grace that rich young man passes from our ken and we hear of him no more. Naturally we sometimes wonder, did he indeed save his soul in the end? St. Augustine fears not, but whether or no he is certainly a type quite frequent in the history of souls,-men and women singled out by God for great things, and seemingly by their own efforts frustrating His plans. It might be of interest to take such a soul, and in the light of revealed Truth, trace its possible course in time and eternity. After the manner of Christ let us call him simply Dives, the rich man.

He comes of good respectable stock. His parents are both excellent Catholics. He has been educated in the fear and love of God; taught to be generous and observant. During his early years he has lived far from sin and worldliness, and seen nothing but what was good, pure and honourable, both at home and at school. To him, as to many such, comes the call to serve God all the days of his life in a very special manner as priest or religious,”Go, sell what thou hast, give to the poor, and come follow Me!”

The annual school retreat had been acclaimed by all a great success. The priest who gave it was rousing, inspiring and full of high ideals. He put the highest motives before the boys, gently suggesting that maybe one or two listening to him were called by God to the generous service of the priesthood. As he emphasised his words by forceful gestures, drove home his points, smiled kindly, allowed himself to be worked up to a fever-pitch of earnestness and zeal, a moment later slipping into whimsical humour, Dives could not but be attracted to him, and laid his thoughts before him in confession. He found patience and sympathy such as he had never before experienced. It looked to him as if in the eyes of this kind man the other hundred and twenty or so boys did not matter There was plenty of time, plenty of fatherly advice, interest, and a very decided statement of the director’s views. And so Dives had made up his mind. Yes indeed he would like to be a foreign missioner very much, but still he must get time to think it over. After all it was not a thing to be decided in a hurry: there was so much to be considered. And so as the retreat ended he was happy and decided in a vague kind of way. After all it was only September. He had till the following June. A lot could happen in that time. Indeed a good deal did: influences came to bear almost immediately on his fervour, working stronger and stronger as the year wore on, and so retreat impressions waned or grew tarnished. Finally came June. Exams are over now. He must think it out. There can no longer be any delay.

Now Dives, need we say it, is rich.

His father has succeeded in business far beyond his most sanguine hopes. He is one of those rare people in whose hands everything turns to gold. But that has in no way affected him. He is a well-known figure at the 8.30 morning Mass, a noted social worker, and at the same time a popular and much sought-after companion. Dives” mother too, while a devout and exemplary woman in every way, is wealthy in her own right-property, shares, business interests and a considerable bank balance. Dives, being an only child is sole heir to all this. Must he then renounce it to save his soul? Surely there is some easier way? He knows there is no surer way, but it is hard to turn his back on it for ever. And so he is pensive and sad.

A persistent voice within he muffles relentlessly, throwing himself into the active life of his post-school days. Thoughts of death, eternity and God he shuns. Not that he is bad, or even, so he thinks, indifferent. Yes, later perhaps he will consider it, but not now. The world has so much to offer: there is so much to be seen and tasted. And so he refuses grace.

Dives had always been interested in drama at school, and now he joins the little group of local players, most of whom are old school-companions, their sisters and the sons and daughters of friends and acquaintances of the family. Having a decided talent, it is not long before a leading role falls to his lot.

Playing opposite him is Deirdre, a girl well known to him and his parents. He never really noticed her before, having grown up a healthy boy full of interest in sport and games. Indeed girls played little part either in his life or his thoughts so far. But week after week rehearsals throw them a great deal together, and for the first time Dives feels an awakening interest and pleasure in her company.

Of course he knows her history. She is a really excellent Catholic girl, passionately devoted to her home and parents, a model of piety and modesty. The fact cements a strong friendship founded on similar tastes and mutual understanding, a friendship fostered by both families. By the time the Christmas play is ready for the stage it has ripened into love.

Both are still young and inexperienced and, as often happens, they fail to distinguish two very different and yet similar things, love and passion. Alas how often parents are at fault for this neglect. How frequently young people could be helped avoid sins which haunt them in maturer years. The attempt can be made, though it is true it will not always succeed,

“She sang as she danced along the path

And the words came down to me,

What matter a thought for future years

When love and youth are free.

Singing she danced along the path, With myriad flowers entwined, Fairer her face than the days of spring, But her eyes-oh, her eyes were blind!”

And so neither is Dives the innocent boy, nor Deirdre the modest girl of a few months back. What a tragedy that it should be so! Deirdre had always been delicate and subject to frequent colds and”flu, and one day on opening a note Dives finds that on this occasion the doctor holds out no hope of recovery. Her lungs have become affected, and will he come and see her?

But what need is there for us to go through the oft-told story ? In a mere matter of weeks it is all over, and the girl, that once spotless lily, whom Dives tempted and led from God has stood before her judge and rendered her last account. Certainly she had done all she could to make amends to Him, and her death was holy and happy. But yet Dives cannot help recriminating himself for what he has destroyed. Yes, any fool can besmirch virtue, but he is helpless to give back innocence once destroyed.

But life has hardened him a trifle now. With a cynical curl of his lip he says, well who cares? An adolescent romance! Why cry over spilt milk? Isn’t life, novelty, adventure and happiness before me?

Such a mind, shutting itself off from God and prayer, and turning its affections almost exclusively to the things of time, has already begun to orientate itself very definitely; already it has started a downward course, imperceptible perhaps at first, but downward for all that. Gradually such a soul grows careless and tepid. A conscience once so scrupulous and exact hesitates a little, wavers a while, and then plunges recklessly and defiantly.

Into Dives” life creeps for the first time repeated deliberate sin, not mortal it is true, but still a habit of turning deliberately from God, a habit bred of love of self, love of ease and comfort.

We catch a glimpse of him as he drives his expensive motor-car with the reckless laugh and abandon of youth. We can pick him out at the race meeting, or amongst his influential friends in the lounge of the luxury hotel. In the ballroom, at the card-table or in the cocktail bar he is the leader of the revelry. We could not say that these things are sinful in themselves-the late night, the company of beautiful if worldly women, the companionship of careless friends. But there is more to it than that-the conversations, the drunkenness, the dangerous company of heedless girls, forgetful as himself of Christian restraint.

To sermons, the promptings of grace and the advice of friends he still turns a deaf ear. Someone, no doubt his own good mother, has warned him

“Touch the goblet no more,

It will make thy heart sore to the core.

Its perfume is the breath of the Angel of death,

And the light that therein lies,

Is the flash of his evil eyes!

Beware, oh beware,

For sickness, sorrow and care are all there. Like a vapour the vision shall pass, And thou steal find in thy heart

Only sorrow, and bitter, bitter contrition.”

But then Dives has all those attractive qualities which are dangerous. More than ordinarily handsome, of good height and appearance, he has an affable and even charming manner. He is intelligent, interesting, a favourite with men and much admired by womankind. About him there is nothing sinister. He is open and frank, but lacks that balance necessary to carry his talents and his great fortune safely. Yes, in his heart he knows things have gone wrong, and one day, one day soon he will fix it all up, but not yet.

And so the years pass.

Now he is his own master. His parents are dead and with his great possessions and the flattery of friends the wine of life has gone to his head. He is often drunk, and the women with whom he associates have already cost him much in gold and virtue. Great gaps have been made in the family possessions, but still the pace of living calls for further sacrifice. Always it is the same-money, money and still more money. Recklessly he gambles life and wealth. But nothing can, it appears, avert the coming ruin.

By now too he has plunged into matrimony with a woman whose influence and advice have, if anything, hastened the disaster. It is a marriage in which greed and lust have played the leading roles. It is a marriage prepared for by a life of sin, and in which the laws of God for man and wife are carelessly and continually flouted. Alas, there is no longer anyone to warn: no mother now to cry,”Beware, my son, beware.”It is a terrible thing to fall into the hands of the living God!” One day, perhaps soon, even you must make the reckoning!”

Still the game goes fast and loose. There are other men’s wives and daughters who, after the fashion of women, are fascinated by the rake’s progress, and drawn into the whirlpool.

An unending round of riotous living and profligacy, sin and indulgence can be, indeed cannot be otherwise than expensive. To balance mounting bills and diminishing resources there is but one answer, and to right his fortunes temporarily he gambles business, stocks and ready cash, as already he has gambled life and health. It is a wild and reckless bid but for once successful. Alas, if only he had failed! For often failure can avert success. Now, once again insecurely on his feet, he mocks the just and the good and their timorous way, their haggling with life and eternity.

No wonder Christ warned against riches! Can they not harden the heart, and steel the soul with pride and contempt? He has but one merciless objective now, success and influence amongst his fellows. And so he oppresses the poor and the worker to make unjust gains, reaping where he has not sown.

And the world calls him a success!

Years ago his father had acquired a splendid estate of well-wooded land with lake and pastures, and there at considerable expense he had built his home in the most suitable setting, surrounded by beech-trees and approached by a magnificent avenue: In the layout money had not been spared. It is true he had been a most charitable man, freely giving to the poor, but his resources had been very vast. Everything about the place had been the most modern. There was stabling for many horses, lairs for great numbers of cattle, and outhouses far beyond the dreams of the most ambitious farmer. Within, the house had been appointed in the most exquisite taste, and there was furniture and fittings of the most expensive varieties. What a home! And what scenes of revelry and licentiousness it now witnesses! What sorrow and disgrace this once respectable mansion must silently watch!

Yes, the world calls him a success. It is true he has wrecked women’s lives, besmirched their virtue, broken their hopes and cast them aside as useless lumber on his path to prominence. True, he has sullied and brought shame on the family name. No heir of his shall go unspoken. Truer still he has wearied himself in the ways of iniquity and wickedness: life is now a shadow, all empty unreality, meaningless, insipid and disappointing. Nor has his way of life failed to make him old and tired before his time. The uselessness of it all now oppresses him, and so the reins hang loose, unheld. Oblivion is sought in wine, and drunkenness holds him abed on Sundays when others go to Mass. His days are passed in listless idleness, his mind and conversation steeped in vice. The card-table claims his money; womankind his virtue; the poor his ruthlessness and dishonesty; his home and wife his contempt and disregard. Yes, he is a blackguard and a swindler, a father even who is guilty of the foulest murder, out-heroding Herod. Indeed it is all true, but the world says he is a success and the world is always right!

On one occasion there had been a mission in the parish church, and a couple of times a friend had prevailed upon him to attend the evening sermons. He had been momentarily stirred by the earnestness and the eloquence of the preacher. Taking for his subjects salvation and sin on two separate nights it looked to Dives as if the missioner quite knew his whole story and was speaking to him personally. Every word he said, every bit of advice appeared aimed at him, and as he rose with the congregation to sing” God of Mercy and Compassion” there was little chance of escaping true compunction of heart. Really he had said to himself, this life could not go on. It was entirely too dangerous. He must not jeopardise his eternity. And as he left the church after Benediction and the final soul-stirring strains of”Faith of Our Fathers,” sung by close on a thousand men-a moving manifestation of faith, even if true musical quality had been swallowed up in lusty and vigorous penitence-he was quite decided on his course.

But outside he had met some of the old companions who soon banished all thoughts of God and eternity from his mind. And crushing down an uneasy feeling of insecurity he once again plunged into the old life, all the persuasion of the good friend who had hoped for better things proving futile.

“Don’t be a bore, old man,” he had said. “I”m O.K. There is plenty of time. I”11 make it all right. And whatever you do don’t send that missioner after me, or you and I will cease to be friends!”

Taking his defeat in good grace, and choosing what seemed the lesser evil, the good Samaritan had held his peace.

But fortune’s wheel turns swiftly. How frequently a man is dazed to find that while a moment ago he rode the crest of the wave, he is now in the trough. The next we see of Dives is in his physician’s consulting room.

“You have asked me a straight question,” says the doctor, “and I”m afraid I must give you a straight answer. You have played havoc with your constitution; you have ruined your health; you are eaten up with disease, and you cannot possibly live longer than a month!”

So now at last the bolt has fallen. It came so tardily he had almost begun to deny its possibility. True enough, others die, but somehow he had the feeling, quite against reason and common sense, that for him it was far off-so far off as to be altogether outside the picture.

But something must be done about the future. He recalls he is a Catholic. He will send for the priest and set right forty years of misspent life. And so, as the confessor sits by the bedside of the dying man, he dons his purple stole to hear a last confession.

And now we must chronicle a fact hard to read, but harder still to write. Shame, fear and a heart confirmed in sin make that last confession a bad one. There are some who will doubt such a possibility. Clearly then they have never come across a soul fast in Satan’s meshes. Grace so often offered and rejected is rejected still.

With bewildered brain and staring eyes Viaticum is received unworthily. Nor have the Last Anointing and Apostolic Blessing availed anything to a man who now has turned his back on God finally and for ever.

O My God, what a destiny! And life and career once looked so promising! The start was good: a childhood so pure; an adolescence so unworldly; even early manhood was not entirely beyond hope. And now, carefully forging each link in his chains and manacles as he went, he has bound himself a captive, destined himself to torture for all eternity. We said this makes hard reading; its writing is harder still.

Friends and relations console themselves at the peaceful death. They will see him one day in glory. Alas how little do they know! How often some of us have said these things and wondered! For of what avail is a peaceful death, features youthful and composed in the last sleep, to one who will never be seen in paradise? Dives is dead and his soul is buried in hell. Now indeed the loom is silent. The shuttles have ceased to fly. The pattern is complete: the tapestry is one of hatred and sin, vice and indulgence, scandal and injustice. And the weaver’s hand is stilled for ever!

On the coffin lid as it leans against the wall stands the sign of salvation, but it is of no avail.

Mass cards lie upon the bed and counterpane. They will not mean anything to him.

The Requiem Mass will be said in the parish church with chanting, incense and much solemnity. But its fruits are not for Dives. He is buried in hell.

Past the gates of his splendid and luxurious home the funeral cortege will pass. The blinds will be drawn in mourning, and within the women will recite the Rosary for his soul. But he is no longer a son of Mary’s. He is buried in hell and has lost his all. He bartered soul for this world’s goods and now he has lost both the one and the other.

At the graveside there will be the final prayers and Absolution. But they will profit him not. His body will be lowered into the consecrated ground and rest beneath the shadow of the cross. But his soul? Surely it is unnecessary to repeat that awe-inspiring sentence!

Looking at human existence in the light of revealed Truth we see all this to be a frightful possibility, and it is quite unnecessary to paint a lurid or startling picture. It is best left to quiet thoughtful prayer.

But now we venture forth on the wings of Revelation to regions unexplored by human science. We do so of set purpose, for we would learn a salutary, a profitable lesson for ourselves. So let us approach in spirit and see the fate of this luckless man. Let us draw near to the terrible region of torment over whose portals, written in fiery letters, stand the words:”This is the entrance to the city of grief; this is the way to the lost race; let those who enter here leave hope behind!”

Some time ago a Catholic magazine published an article on our neighbour, the sun. In that essay some startling facts were given which, even if we are not in a position to verify accurately, may at the same time give us some faint idea of the power of God to punish sin.

We are told, amongst other facts, that the surface of the sun has a temperature of 11,000° F. and that a difference of 2,500° makes the sunspots appear black by comparison. According to the account the sun is made up of five different layers, each fiercely burning and chemically active; the core is atomic energy with a temperature of 22,000,000° F. Just to think of it!

Surely such astronomical figures, so great as to be almost meaningless to our little minds, convey to us something of the infinite greatness and power of God, of Him Who created the vast heavens, the mighty restless oceans, the monsoon, the tornado and the lightning flash. Yes, it is the same Lord Who punishes sin, and we can be sure He uses no halfmeasures. God loves Himself infinitely, and hates sin as intensely as He loves Himself. Who then shall measure the punishment? Who shall form the vaguest notion of it? Surely we can say,” Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, nor hath it entered into the heart of man to conceive what God hath prepared for those who . . .” . . . offend Him by mortal sin unrepented!

Let us try to state facts soberly and with restraint. Approach then while we speak to and question the hapless victim of his own misdeeds.

But first of all you say, how shall we picture hell?

It is an immense prison, whose gates are shut and bolted by eternal decrees, darker than the darkest winter night, hideous and loathsome, where fires are kindled by the infinite and eternal wrath of God. Furnaces and boilers in which metals are melted or water heated have such a suffocating blast, that even for a brief space of time and at a distance, they are calculated to overcome the stoutest constitution. They are such that not for one second would we dare thrust the tip of our finger within. What then shall we say of a fire united to the being of the damned as heat to the glowing horseshoe, as soul to body, making the blood to boil within the veins and the marrow within the bones?

Is it not rather a mockery to try to describe the pains of hell? How our blood runs cold when we read of martyrs burned at the stake: of St. Isaac Jogues and companions, whose eyes were plucked out and replaced by burning coals; under whose nails white-hot metal wedges were driven; about whose naked necks fearsome metal chains, raised to scaring heat, were placed. If we stand speechless and horrified at such torture, what shall, what can we say of hell?

In the modern world there are many who cannot get themselves to believe in the fact. They say it is too awful. A good God could never permit it. It could never fit in with the scheme of things. To these objections there are many answers, as when the old parson said,”a religion without a hell is not worth a d-!” But let us take one fact only. In every age of history there have been characters almost without redeeming goodness, wicked and evil men whom in life we would shun, whose very presence would fill us with loathing and a cold paralysing fear. Of course no human being is entirely evil, but with such men we approach as near to unrelieved evil as ever we shall in human affairs. Somehow they do not easily fit in with a theology without a hell. Admitting the immortality of the soul where shall we place them? Where else but hell?

Draw near then as we make our way to the luckless victim of his own malice. What human words shall speak the agony of the damned? Their cries of despair, anguish and hatred ; their curses against their neighbour and their blasphemies against God? How bitterly they bewail the day they were born! What shall we say of the moans, the shrieks of pain, of the fearful company of Satan and the Fallen Angels? When we conjure up the picture of this hapless people, this forgotten race, the off-scourings of humanity, loathsome, diabolical, impure, sadistic and satanical, our minds arc filled with indescribable terror and anguish. Should we see those contorted malicious faces filled with malevolence and every evil ; could we fathom their wicked minds, or watch them lay sinful, murderous hands on one another, the sight would be too much for human endurance. For them there is no longer any peace, rest or happiness, only terror, horror and soul-searching agony. Of this bodily and spiritual suffering Christ solemnly warns us, not once but many times: the salting with fire and the worm that dieth not.” . . . but rather fear Him,” says Our Saviour, “ that can destroy both soul and body into hell.” (Matt. X. 28.)

It is of course true that men and women can bear almost unbelievable sufferings and intense pain of long duration. Given a good night’s rest or buoyed up with the hope of deliverance at some future date, we human beings can surprise even ourselves. A small thing may distract our minds. A little kindness shown may help us on our way. The presence of a friend may solace us; we may build our hope in God alone; our doctor may drug us into senselessness. But no such solace can be found in hell as long as God is God.

By the light of Revelation we might easily work all this out for ourselves. But let us now rather question Dives on the anguish of mind known only to the lost. He will tell us :”Yes, I am lost. For all eternity I am fated to meditate and say, I am lost, lost through my own fault. I am lost because of the misuse of God’s creatures; I have laboured to secure my own destruction, and now eternally I perish and yet I live.”

Timidly we ask:”Is there no small solace, comfort of any kind? Surely it can’t be entirely evil; our human minds could hardly grasp such an idea!”

“My soul,” answers the tortured Dives amid revolting blasphemy and soul-sickening curses,”my soul,” he pants, “was made for God. Have you never read the words of St. Augustine?”Our hearts were made for Thee, O Lord, and they shall never rest unless they rest in Thee!” There can be no comfort or solace without Him. Ah, if only I had realised this in time! If I had served and loved God upon earth I could have been joyously happy in life, for happiness comes only from a heart at peace with God. Believe you nothing else, on your lives! Yes, happy in life and blissful for all eternity!

“And how I ridiculed and scoffed at the lives of those now in heaven. But now that I am lost I see: fool that I was I esteemed their lives madness and their end without honour, therefore I erred from the way of truth and wearied myself in the way of iniquity!”

If we can bring ourselves to raise our eyes and look upon this tortured soul in the light of faith; if we can prevent a shudder of revulsion and terror, we will most assuredly be harrowed by pity and the deepest feelings of sorrow and sympathy.

Bravely, and a little innocently, we ask:”And what do you blame for your misfortune? Alas we fully realise we can never help you, but perhaps we may be able to help others avoid this cruel terrifying fate.”

“Alas indeed, but no one is to blame but myself. Such wonderful graces did I receive in life. Was I not called to the true Faith?

Did I not have the best parents in the world?

Good teachers, true friends and holy priests?

And all the while my talents lay unused, and grace and good advice unheeded. I never looked before me or thought of death or the possibility of hell. I have been able to show no smallest grain of virtue, and now I am consumed in my own sinfulness. You ask, what brought about my ruin? I will tell you : something unjustly acquired-a miserable earthly fortune which even in life troubled my conscience, and which now my heirs are recklessly squandering. Of what avail is it to me now? Oh, if only I had one hour’s freedom! A second chance!

“Then there were sinful friendships. And now having renounced me to my fate, my former companions in sin are reconciled to God in heaven and triumph eternally. Oh, if God would only give me one hour, a second chance!

“Then there were filthy sins of the flesh which made me despise myself. There was passing pleasure which for the moment I hardly enjoyed because of remorse. Oh, if God would only give me a second chance, how careful I would be!

“Time’s value he who loses understands,

Fierce is the wish of men tonight in hell

That they might once more grasp with nervous hands

The mighty instrument and use it well.”

“ And how easily it could all have been done! God created me for heaven. He loved me. He gave me all. He even died for me. And it was all in vain because I loved the worthless tinsel of wealth; I loved senseless honour and reputation; I was a slave to passion, impurity, drink and sloth. For these have I sold my soul! Ah now I understand fully the words of Christ,”What doth it profit a man to gain the whole world and suffer the loss of his own soul?””

As we listen we are preoccupied with our own thoughts, for we know his history -what it cost him to lose his soul, wearying himself in the way of iniquity and perdition; walking difficult paths and ignoring the paths of justice and honour; ruining health, losing worldly position, bringing shame and disgrace on the once honourable family name. We cannot but feel, as the sad confession unfolds a tragic story, that had he taken half the pains to save his soul that he did to lose it, he could this day be numbered amongst the saints of God. But now lost eternally he shall never see God, never escape these hideous sufferings, this terrible awe-inspiring company. Surely the hand of God is upon him as he writhes in the fierce flame of hell.

Again it strikes us that if Dives had been told that, let us say, for one sin of impurity he would be condemned to suffer a loathsome disease confined to bed in torture and mental suffering for, let us suppose, twenty, thirty or forty years, he would at least have hesitated?

Most certainly. Unless we are bad judges of human nature he would have striven by every means within his power to reject temptation. Strange indeed and yet he feared not hell! Or is it perhaps not truer to say that he had no appreciation of it? That he shut out the thought? That is pretty certainly the truer way of putting it-so many men and women do likewise. But recall, this is of no mere few years” duration.

A sick man may ask from his bed of pain, what time is it? Should we answer, midnight, he will groan aloud and cry, if only morning would come. Dives may well ask, how long must I suffer? And the vaulted roof of hell replies, eternally. A hundred years* have passed. How long, he cries, how long now?

As many stars as the firmament holds, as many drops of water as the sea contains, as many grains of sand as the shores support, add them up. Call the number years. How much is left? Eternity, eternity, whole and undivided. And when, he * This is a manner of speaking. There is no time, no duration in hell. Eternity is ever completely and entirely present. asks of us, shall it end? We answer, never, never. Fill the heavens, the surface of the globe with the number of the years spent by a soul in torment. Multiply it by the number of the stars, the leaves, the grains of sand, the drops of water. When, that has passed Dives asks, how long remains? We answer, eternity. God is still God, sin is still sin, and the lost are still lost-lost for all eternity!

Of a truth may we reflect-Eye hath not seen nor ear heard nor hath it entered into the heart of man to conceive what God hath prepared for those who offend Him by unrepented mortal sin!

But one thing Dives craves us to remember. Already he has spoken of it in a passing way, but it is too important to be lightly passed over. It deserves special attention. It is the kernel and the centre-point of eternal punishment-the pain of loss, eternal loss of God, for Whom every human soul, even when it little realises, longs with a desire, never otherwise to be appeased.

“ Remember as you value your eternity,” Dives says, “that you were created for God. No mere creature can ever fill that little human heart. You may have seen the hardened drunkard crave for drink, torn almost by unseen demons if he does not get his wish; or it may have been the rolling eye of the incurable drug-addict; or perhaps you have read about the impure in the clutch of his unchaste desires; or you have witnessed the bird of the forest, caged and beating itself to death against its prison bars in hopeless bids for freedom, but all these give no faint idea of the soul’s restless yearning for God, never, never, never to be satisfied in hell!”

“ Beware then,” he begs, “beware of my pitiless fate. You may have lost wife or child or parent. You know full well what that sad loss meant at the time. Multiply it a million times and you know not mine. Perhaps you blamed yourself that you did not do all you could to save them-you could have got medicines, called in specialists, procured a change of air, or given more personal attention and taken greater care. But of course there is no remedy against death. It was God’s will, not your fault. But lose God in hell and the fault is yours and yours alone. Beware, in God’s name, beware! Time is no healer here! We, the Lost Race, alas we never forget! We have seen God once in Judgement. Now we realise-”Oh, Beauty ever ancient, ever new, too late have we known Thee! Too late! Too late!””

You will say no doubt that possibly all this is exaggerated. Is that possible?

A certain priest, let us call him Fr. X, once met Dives and spoke to him as really as these lines speak to you. Naturally the reader might ask, and how could that be ? Well, Fr. X met a man whose last confession was a bad one. It was all over and he lay with multiple sacrilege, and the many and grievous sins of a dissipated lifetime uneasily awaiting the end. Quietly he fell into semiconsciousness and then everything blacked out. The end?

For some unaccountable reason-the ever beautiful Mercy of God no doubt-it was not the end. Contrary to all human expectation he lived. Awakening hours afterwards he felt slightly better, and after weeks of painful convalescence he could manage to crawl about. When he was sufficiently strong he made his way to a church, told his hair-raising story to Fr. X and made his peace with the All-merciful God. Where he is now, or who he is, or whether he is dead or alive, Fr. X could never say, even if he knew. All we need know is that the story is a true one, and that it brings home to us the mind of God, Who wills not the death of the sinner but that he be converted and live.

Dives then is not a pure figment of the imagination. And it is to be hoped that his history will one day fall into the hands of a life-long sinner, not to discourage but to warn and to help. God grant that it may be so, for there are unfortunately many men and women who, regardless of eternity, still play with hell-fire, standing as it were on the brink of perdition, riotously and recklessly joking.

To such these pages speak:”Tell us, O sinner, do you still think sin a joke? Something to be trifled with? The merciful, just and good God punishes mortal sin by hell. Speak, do you still think it a casual matter of no importance? Many are perhaps in hell for a mortal sin. Indeed in the last resort all who die in mortal sin are there because of one mortal sin, their last, and for the hardened sinner that might have been any one of a long series. We might indeed ask such, how many times they have already merited eternal punishment? Or could they give any valid reason why they are not already there?”

There is indeed a reason. O Jesus, crucified for us men and for our sins, it is Your mercy alone, Your immense patience! Exalted on Your cross of suffering and humiliation You have closed and scaled the gates of hell! O Holy Mary, was it not You who placated the fury of a just God and withheld the avenging blow?

But of course there is an end to all things in human affairs. The sands of time run out, and if the sinner continues in his sin not even the crucified Christ in His infinite Mercy, nor our Holy Mother Herself can save him. We may only hope that through the Merits of Christ applied by Mary and the Catholic Church he will throw himself upon his knees in sorrow and gratitude before it is too late, promising to amend and make satisfaction.

The thought of hell is indeed the expression of God’s all-embracing Love-Its cogent appeal. This is not so evident on first thoughts, but when we remember that God knows us as we can never know ourselves, knows us as a Creator knows His creature, in all our weakness, folly and waywardness, then perhaps we will come to understand that for our own good He will go very near to forcing us to love Him.”He knoweth our frame. He remembereth that we are but dust.” (Ps. 102.) And so the thought of hell should awaken in us in the first place an appreciation of God’s boundless Love and infinite Mercy.

For each and all of us it has its lesson. Broadly speaking men can be divided into three classes, the good, the lukewarm, and the sinner, and to each of these it has its appeal.

To the just. Christ warns them to watch and pray continually that they enter not into temptation and so endanger their souls.

The thought of hell warns them that they dare not fail, but be ever ready and watchful.

“Blessed is that servant, whom when the lord shall come, he shall find watching. Verily I say to you, he will set him over all that he possesseth.” (Luke xii. 43, 44.)

Then the tepid, the penitent but wavering sinner. Hell is the constant reminder that he must not, dare not fall back, or turn to creatures instead of God.”Do penance for the kingdom of heaven is at hand.” (Matt. iii. 2.)

Lastly the hardened and the careless sinner. The message of hell is the importance of saving his soul, that he turn back before it is too late, for God wills not the death of the sinner but that he be converted and live.

In our modern age we are constantly looking for the secret of this and the secret of that: some easy formula that, as the saying goes, will do the trick. We speak of the secret of success, the secret weapon that will win wars, the secret of the atomic bomb and the like. Frequently we moderns demand a simple solution which will solve quite complicated problems. It might be suggested that here we have a simple and most useful secret-the secret of salvation, the secret even of great sanctity.

The thought of hell, that is the abiding thought of hell, has made great saints. It is not untrue to say that all holiness is built upon it, the fear of God and His judgements; for the fear of God is, according to Revelation, the beginning of wisdom.

We might then with great profit cherish this thought always and ever. If we do so we are building a solid edifice for eternity. And as we lay our heads upon our pillows at night let us ask ourselves, are we ready? And as we rise in the morning, go about our work, meet our daily temptations, in our hours off, in our homes, amongst our friends, let us remember the words of St. Paul and our eternal salvation is secure:

“It is a terrible thing to fall into the hands of the living God.” (Heb. x. 31.)

Nihil Obstat:

CAROLUS DOYLE, S.J., Cens. Theol. Deput.

Imprimi Potest:

@ JOANNES CAROLUS, Archiep. Dublinen.,

Hiberniae Primas

Dublini, die 19 Januarii, 1948.

********

Don’t Swear Like That!

BY DANIEL A. LORD, S.J

INDEX

“DON’T SWEAR LIKE THAT”!

I know a man who likes to think he is a gentleman.

As a matter of fact, he tries hard to be a gentleman, and maybe that’s the essence of being a gentleman.

But I happen to know that once he struck a woman. Just once. And that time both the woman he struck and he himself agreed that he was right in what he did.

He’s a good Catholic, I must explain, and a professional man. The girl was a youngster, a family friend, someone he had known since the days when she was very young and spiritually fragrant from her first Communion. He could remember when she ran to see him after her first retreat, thrilled and excited and ecstatic. Her mother was dead. For many reasons she had written to him and talked to him all through her days in school.

Despite her Catholic high-school education, she determined on a State university. He didn’t like that choice. He liked it less when she came back with a sorority sophistication that covered a still extant faith.

She sat beside his desk in his office, talking. Her degree was an accomplished fact. She was bragging a bit and being very wise and grown up.

Then, to emphasize something that she had been talking about, she threw back her head and cried vigorously, “Isn’t that the worst nonsense? Why . . .”

She spat out the Holy Name.

A SLAP IN THE MOUTH

No thought, no conscious impulse actuated his gesture. What he did was as purely instinctive as the reflex that pulls back your hand when you unexpectedly touch a hot iron. He leaned across the desk and slapped her full on the mouth.

It was just one slap, and it wasn’t a hard one-a sort of symbolic slap, I suppose. But as this young woman, whose Catholicity he had known, whose charming family he admired, suddenly spat out the Holy Name in that cheap, vulgar fashion, something very primitive yet something that came from deep conviction and custom reflexed his hand.

For the first and only time in his life he hit a woman.

She stopped talking in the midst of that sentence.

You’ve heard the phrase, “she stopped dead, as if she had been struck.” This girl had been struck; and she stopped very short. He himself sat not knowing what might happen next. For a red wave swept over her cheeks. She looked at her older friend in amazement. Neither of them said a word.

Then she dropped her eyes and rubbed her lips with the back of her hand. It was not to salve the hurt of the slap; that he knew instinctively. It was to wipe away the still remaining bad taste of the name she had used in careless oath.

When she spoke, her voice was tensely quiet.

“I had it coming to me,” she said. “Thanks a lot. I’m terribly sorry. I shan’t do that again.” And he had not the slightest doubt but that she meant what she promised.

THE CUSTOM OF CUSSING

Far be it from me to suggest that any of us should go about the world slapping ladies-or men either for that matter-in the face. Yet my commonest impulse is to knock together in ringing hollowness the heads of any two men whose conversation is interlarded with fat, meaningless oaths.

And while we who love God and follow Jesus Christ and believe in the eternal truths cannot militantly crack the skulls of cursers, we can certainly do far more than we are doing about the viciously growing habit of swearing.

Let me start by admitting that this booklet will not be a scientific discussion of the varied forms of evil language. I do not mean to devote space even to distinguish between swearing, cursing, and blasphemy. I shan’t try to differentiate cussing, as it’s called, from vulgarity. Naturally enough, I am excluding entirely all questions of obscenity in whatever form. That is another question entirely, and one that I do not intend to take up here.

“SLANG WORDS?”

Cursing and profanity have become so common that now they are often simply lumped together with slang.

Many a woman in confession startles the young confessor by saying, “I accuse myself of using slang words.” Ten to one she does not mean such slang as “Cut it out!” . . .”Beat it, kid!” . . .”That’s just baloney!” . . .”What’s cookin’?” She has in mind some sort of profanity, speech that consists of the sacred names of God, the places mentioned in Sacred Scriptures-hell, for obvious example-and those imperative verbs which in short compass include the ultimate ruin of the soul and its arrival in the place of eternal despair.

She means that she has taken very sacred, important, or terrible words and made them as common as the slang expressions she tosses about with the rest of her common-place conversation.

PEARLS AND SERPENTS

Whenever in my hearing a woman purposelessly and from casual habit swears, I think of the ancient parable or fable of the two sisters. One, you remember, was kind to the witch from the woods. The second, on the other hand, sullenly and insolently refused the witch the drink that she asked. So it happened that from the lips of the generous sister fell, with each word she spoke, a diamond, a ruby, or a pearl. (I don’t know which jewel corresponded to noun, verb, adjective.) When the selfish sister spoke, you will recall, each word brought from her mouth a toad, a frog, or a serpent.

All the fables have a remarkable element of truth about them. So when I hear gentle speech fall from the lips of a cultured woman, I think of the falling jewels. And when from red-accented lips falls a flood of cheap oaths and common vulgarities, I think, as all decent men must, of cascading vermin and reptiles.

THE MAN CURSES

But the fact that oaths and curses are used by a man rather than by a woman doesn’t essentially change their sooty, smelly character.

Recently I was eating in the diner of an east-bound train. Into the diner walked a crowd of baseball players, members of an important eastern major-league team. Like most really outstanding athletes in private life, they were soft-spoken, quite, unobtrusive, and inclined to keep their champion strength under wraps. They took their places at tables in back of me and began low-voiced conversations.

Then into their talk was injected a new voice-loud, strident, aggressively profane. Every sentence was begun with the Holy Name or ended with an oath or a curse. I looked back, surprised that the manager travelling with the team would tolerate such speech.

Leaning on the table was a well-past-middle-aged sailor in the uniform of the lowest grade. Clearly he’d been to sea for long years. Clearly, too, he was the type that would end his career still second-class, without distinguishing stripes or marks. But to prove that, despite his obvious failure in the navy, he was full of superior manhood, he flooded the diner with oaths and curses and vulgarity that made everyone in the car shudder.

CAN WE BLAME THE WAR? OR THE ARMY?

It would be comforting and soul-easing to blame on the war the increase of swearing among us. Probably all defective human conduct during the next generation will be blamed on the war. It’s such an easy “out.” Swearing has been, of course, from time immemorial part of the soldierly swagger. When the great Joan of Arc, saint though she was, referred to the English soldiers of her day, she invariably called them the Goddams. She had heard them referred to with that phrase so often that, without knowing what it meant, she thought it a synonym for English soldiers. And she so used it.

Yet, though many a soldier swears, has sworn, and on a battlefield and in camp will continue to swear, oaths and curses are not part of army issue or equipment. I remember being much impressed by a series of photographic posters got out by the army and navy academies for our future officers. One of these in strongest terms stated that swearing and evil language were utterly foreign to an officer and a gentleman.

A SLOW GROWTH

Actually swearing as it exists today has nothing to do with the war. It has grown up along with the general loss of faith, which means that the words used in oaths and curses have come to mean next to nothing. It is part of the collapse of culture, which reached its depths in Germany and in Russia and in the foul language of the totalitarian armies.

Time was when only the commonest men in association with their ilk used that sort of language. Usually they got away someplace where no one else could hear their talk. Today such words have passed into the vocabularies of apparently cultured men-and whether or not women are present seems to make little difference.

On to the trolley bound for the amusement park which lies beyond the religious house in which I live stumbled two young couples, very well dressed, very happy. Cried one of the boys to the girl with him: “Well, for Christ’s sake! Where the hell do you think you’re going?” And the four of them laughed at this most delightful piece of fresh, vigorous, original humour.

SWEARING WOMEN

I suppose that that same furtive principle which makes women try to imitate in secret the vices of men has from an ancient day led girls and women to curse a little in private. No doubt, small girls in fourth grade got a certain thrill out of the abnormal wickedness of ripping out or tripping over a tentative damn or hell.

In the main, however, except for a brief period of shocking looseness in eighteenth-century England, women did not regard swearing as the proper thing to do. Women who had to fight for their existence in the slums or the tenements might swear. They faced a cruel competition with unscrupulous men which forced them to use their tongues and their fists roughly. But other women pitied them because of the low types of defensive weapons they were obliged to use. Cultured women or women with decent opportunities did not in surprise attack beat down the stronger male with vile tongues.

Nor did they consider that the atmosphere of the drawing room or the nursery was improved by a swearing wife or mother.

FAMOUS FISHWIFE

Most of us remember the famous verbal duel between Daniel O’Connell and the foul-mouthed fishwife of his day. Her reputation for swearing and cursing was England-wide. The famous orator wagered that he could outbillingsgate her and leave her speechless. But, you will also remember, he won the word-slinging contest, not with an oath or an insulting name, but by the use of cleverness-and geometry. He left the astonished woman gaping and conquered when he called her a parallelepiped. She had no vituperation to match that.

There is something very significant, though, in the fact that when a clever man matched himself with a soiled-mouthed woman he won, not by pelting her with stale and vulgar curses, but by inventing a fresh and original form of speech.

In these days many a supposedly cultured woman accepts swearing as a matter of course.

Now, we should not be surprised that when female barflies picked up the other bad habits which men carried with them into saloons and taverns they picked up the habit of evil speech. That still does not explain away the shock we feel when a fresh-faced, apparently cultivated, and well-dressed woman comes out with language you’d tolerate with reluctance from the driver of a truck that had been hit by a meandering sedan.

IS SWEARING FUNNY?

For some reason the world has decided that when a woman swears she runs a fair chance of being funny.

Perhaps I should withdraw that phrase “for some reason.” If there is humour here, it falls under the general law that applies to all humour. That is laugh-provoking which strikes us as incongruous, unexpected, out of place: a cat in a cathedral during vespers; the valedictorian whose gown flies open to reveal that he is sansculotte; the gentleman in evening dress who sits down on a custard pie; a senator discovered doing the rhumba on top of his senatorial desk.

So a swearing woman is always incongruous and on occasion funny. We expect, you see, gentle and lovely speech from women. Your dear old aunt Susie suddenly ripping forth a lusty “Damn!” may seem laughable. On the other hand, you may to your horror decide that the precious old soul has gone mad. If there is laughter here at all, it is because a woman cursing or swearing seems so utterly out of place, so entirely out of character.

TOO EASY

On the general principle that swearing is funny, all sorts of dramatic scenes today struggle for laughs through some one of the characters unexpectedly uttering a lusty “Hell!” or “Damn!”

Indeed, as the supply of really good comedians dwindled and the authors who could write funny lines and amusing situations disappeared, the producers on Broadway began to depend more and more on the use of the Holy Name for laughs and on round oaths to awaken sleeping audiences into startled guffaws. Some theatrical lightweights decided that a blistering oath was funny, even though most of the audiences don’t find them at all funny.

The motion-picture Code banned early and forever [Alas! it has not been ‘forever’!] that easy appeal to lowcomedy tastes. It outlawed oaths and swearing in the talkies. That smart and wise move saved one of the big pictures. When “Gone With the Wind” was to be filmed, there was question whether Rhett Butler’s last line should remain. After all, it did include a damn. But the Code had protected the motion-picture audiences from being presented with words like damn and hell as humour. So audiences saw the full irony and tragedy when Butler walked away from the selfish Scarlett, and, in answer to her demand about what was to become of her, retorted, “Frankly, I don’t give a damn.”

Even there the damn he did not give for his worthless wife may have been a tinker’s dam, which is not an oath at all but a bit of metal practically without value.

Wisely the motion-picture producers realized that once their authors and producers could fling into the dialogue curse words, they would stop thinking. For cursing is the most sodden equivalent for original thinking and a poor makeshift for a decently-developed vocabulary.

A WRITER ACCEDES

It was the fine Irish Catholic actress, Una O’Connor, who once took matters into her hands on the New York stage. One of the most famous of the authors was producing a play, the climax of which came when the heroine, distraught, rushed about the stage, screaming the Holy Name.

Miss O’Connor listened as long as she could. Then she quietly approached the author.

“I wonder,” she asked, “if you have any idea how the use of the Saviour’s name tears us Catholics to pieces. You are much too clever a writer to need to end a scene on a situation that will simply torture the nerves of a large section of your audience. Can’t you rewrite that scene and omit the name of the dear Lord?”

The scene was rewritten-and vastly improved thereby.

A MEANINGLESS WORD

As a matter of fact, the constant use of the oaths and curses has resulted in their losing all meaning. The word damn means less than nothing to most people who use it or hear it. It has become a synonym for very, very much or a great deal. So a man can with amusing inconsistency be “damn hot” or “damn cold.” Even more ridiculously, though he can be “hot as hell,” he doesn’t hesitate to announce that he is “cold as hell.” The first is a pretty good term of comparison; the second is just about the world’s most slovenly comparison.

A man finds one thing “damn funny” and another “damn sad.” Lacking an adequate vocabulary to express degrees of feelings, he modifies everything by damn and compares everything to hell or the devil, thus achieving nothing more than proof of his poverty of speech and his total inability to handle the English language.

Even damn is incorrect. If he knew anything, he’d at least use the participle, damned, and not the verb, damn.

CURSING CAN BE TERRIBLE

As I announced in the beginning, it is not my intention to try to make clear the various forms of cursing; nor am I discussing the degrees of evil or sinfulness of various curses. What we are considering is how a Christian, a Catholic, ought to regard the use of profane language. For that matter, how should a cultured, educated person look at it?

Yet we cannot overlook the fact that there can be occasions in which, and peoples among whom, cursing might be something very terrible, a mortal sin in the very nature of the case. So, too, under such circumstances oaths can become significant and sinful. Men have lifted their hands in an oath that called upon God to witness as truth the lies they told. In the middle of a road or in a market place, in some small fishing boat or in the smoking car of a train men have demanded that God come and stand sponsor for their evil speech, their slandering of character, some trivial thing that was unworthy of the notice of God.

Usually they were men of twisted faith, men who still believed in God but who could yet insult Him with demands that were sinful or beneath His consideration.

“By God, man! I’m telling you the truth which I say this watch cost me twenty dollars.” . . .”Before the Saviour, these goods are just as I guarantee them to be!” . . .”By Our Lady, he’s a liar! And I’m warning you.”

BY THE SAVIOUR . .

For most people, however, the use of the names of God and of Jesus Christ signifies little. Such usage is the sign of a complete lack of faith. God means nothing to them any more. Christ has lost all value in their eyes. So the Holy Names are tossed about in careless indifference.

Fanny Hurst established a custom for novelists years ago when she let her cheap characters use, not the full Holy Name, but merely the abbreviated form, “jeez” Miss Hurst herself, when she used this, pointed out that the constant use of the name had completely dulled the users to any sense of its importance, or even to the meaning of the word they flung about.

But in somewhat the same way children have forgotten that ‘gee whiz’ was originally a parody on Jesus Christ. For that matter, most origins are soon forgotten. How many realize that ‘hocus-pocus,’ the magic formula used by magicians, originated in a Protestant parody on “Hoc est corpus meum”?

CARELESS VS. CRUEL CURSING

Fortunately for the human race few people even stop to think what cursing means. To most people it’s just a silly use of words called cussin.’

Yet a curse is one of the most horrible things that the human mind ever conceived against a fellow man. It is the deliberate and solemn calling down of evil upon someone else. To this day when a voodoo priest or devotee in one of the Indies puts a curse on a victim, he fills that curse with all the ill he can heap upon the accursed. Even the realization that he has been cursed by a voodoo doctor is enough to make a cursed native believer die of frightened expectation.

So throughout human history men and women have tried by some magic of mind to harm their enemies. Every age seems to have record of waxen figures tortured with pins and fire and curses until the victims for whom the figures stood withered to their death. Evil men and women have called down upon a man, his house, and his descendants all the evil they could conceive. Out of the malign forces of the atmosphere wizards and witches have tried to summon disease and misfortune and sudden death.

Most of this is rankest superstition.

The desire of men, however, to curse their enemies is a stark fact that repeats itself a thousand times.

WORDS FULL OF MEANING

Now, without shadow of doubt, when men first began to use our modern forms of cursing, those words were full of dire meanings and purposes. Those words are, objectively considered, terrible words. Only constant repetition and loss of faith have dulled their significance.

To this day in lands where men have strong faith and consequently can live strongly by it or sin strongly against it, they can, when they curse one another, intend to the fullest extent the meanings of the words themselves.

“God damn you!” or “God damn him!” say the thoughtless modern man and woman. The words to him and her mean hardly more than “I hope you stub your toe,” or, “You old nuisance, you!” or, “May you get a wrong connection the next time you telephone!”

Luckily, I repeat, people are amazingly thoughtless. They say, “Oh, go to hell!” as carelessly as they say, “Oh, go chase yourself around the block!” or, “How about running home to mother?”

If we were to stop for just a minute and, instead of being like mindless parrots who repeat what they have heard, or like phonograph records that grind over and over again the words that were impressed on the wax discs, thought of what the phrases meant, we might drop them forever from our vocabularies.

DEEP ORIGINS

“God damn you, you old faker, you!” exclaims the man to his friend, laughing and slapping him on the back. And both of them think nothing more of it.

Yet that phrase was first born in the mind of someone who hated his enemy with a bitterness that went far beyond death itself. Of all the possible evils that could befall his enemy, far and away the worst was the eternal loss of his soul. No other pain or loss in this life could compare with the eternal ruin that might be pronounced on him at the end by the eternal judge, who casts men off for their sins and crimes.

So out of this deep, if distorted, faith the man who originated that curse put the words into horrible sequence. He cried out against his enemy in a curse that was a sort of perverted prayer: “May God damn you!” Or in preparation for the careless modern’s, “Oh, go to hell!” he cried out, “May you go to hell!”

Neither he nor his enemy had any doubt about the foulness and finality of that curse. No other curse could possibly pull together into the compass of a few words more of devastating evil, lasting ruin, human collapse, and God’s final anger. That curse contained for the victim his enemy’s savage desire for his final unhappiness. It tried to slam the door on hope and initiate eternal misery.

In a frightful explosive bomb of words the curser flung at his victim something he believed to be far worse than all the evils of life and death. This terrible fate he hoped would explode upon the accursed one. This terrible fate he perversely prayed for his hated enemy.

VENDETTA

Don’t think that men in the ancient ages of faith were not capable of trying to make this horrible curse come true. If they wanted their enemies damned, they planned a revenge that might encompass even this desire of theirs.

Ordinarily when a man went out to commit the sin called revenge, he planned merely the minor vendetta. He waited until his enemy had gone to Confession and Communion, so that he could be sure that the fellow was in the grace of God. Then he slipped the dagger between his enemy’s ribs. He was content to rob him of his earthly life; that was evil enough. He preferred that in the world beyond his victim find his eternal happiness.

The major vendetta went far deeper. The man who sought revenge was not content with anything less than the eternal loss of his enemy’s soul. He wanted him damned in hell, and he plotted how this curse could be realized. So he waited until he was sure his victim had committed a mortal sin and was spiritually dead. Then with the victim on the brink of hell, the murderer plunged his dagger. He deprived the man of his earthly life, and he hurled him to eternal ruin. He had made real his curse as dagger and curse hit together: “God damn your soul to hell!”

Horrible! Yet human hatred can go that far.

COMPLETELY THOUGHTLESS

It was left for thoughtless people of succeeding ages-and our age-to take that horrible curse and make it part of the most commonplace speech. The second baseman blocks off the runner; it’s an out; and when the runner rises to his feet, he damns the other player to eternal ruin. The girl is kept waiting for her change while the saleswoman takes care of another customer. Under her breath this sweet-faced youngster mutters words that consign the offending clerk to damnation.

Yet back in our subconscious and often rising to our consciousness is a very clear sense of the deeper significance of the curse. Never has there been a normal child who did not hesitate on the brink of his first curse words. He might not know what they really meant. He might be very vague about the evil they implied. Nonethe-less he did not miss the fact that the words were crammed with evil, that they bore some sinister connotation that he ought not evoke.

Even the child who had heard the members of his family cursing and swearing around him still drew back at first from the words. And the first time he used them, he would not have been deeply surprised if they had been followed by a bolt from the blue, some paralysing clap of thunder hurling him and the things around him to the ground.

Buried deep in the heart of these curses, which have become such casual phrases, is an inescapable significance so deep that little children are appalled when they hear them used by their elders. And only the coarsest and commonest of adults can fail to be shocked when innocent, childish lips utter one of these horrible desires for man’s ruin and eternal doom.

What, then, must be youngsters’ reactions when they hear the words spoken in bitterness and hate and deep invective by mothers and fathers, by older brothers and sisters toward each other, by adults really fired with hate that lavas forth in blasting words?

WHY NOT THE REVERSE?

It is a little queer, to put it mildly, that moderns go around damning to right and left and ordering off to hell in slapdash fashion anything or anyone that happens to incur their momentary annoyance. What could be more ridiculous and incongruous than the damning of a pencil that breaks in one’s hand or the dish that cracks as one dries it? What more out of proportion than to damn the paper boy who’s late with the sports final, or the telephone operator who gives a wrong number?

Yet a person walks through the day blithely wishing to hell the man who inadvertently steps on his toes, the careless pedestrian who makes the mistake of thinking he has a right on the street, the tax collector, the mailman who doesn’t bring an expected letter, the little boy who tramples on the fresh lawn.

Wouldn’t you think that it would be our natural desire to draw down blessings upon the world and to wish all manner of good things for our fellow men?

Why, for our own sweet sakes, don’t we keep saying, “God bless you”?

And if we are really bent on getting rid of someone, “Go to heaven” should serve just as well as a wish projecting him to the other place.

Why, instead of bombarding God with requests to damn and destroy, which are certainly precarious processes, don’t we beg Him to shower the world with graces? Why are men and women eternally asking the merciful Father to damn someone or something or to send to hell the unoffending, the slightly annoying, and the thoroughly wicked?

ASKING FOR GOOD

God. Himself, if we could attribute to Him human emotions, should be amazed that His name is most frequently used, not to beseech blessings, but to invoke evil and misfortune. For one man who prays for the world’s salvation, half a dozen seem perfectly willing to consign themselves and all around them to eternal ruin.

“Well, I’ll be damned!” is the commonest of imprecations. “Well, if it ain’t my old friend, Bill! Damn your hide anyhow!” is plain formula.

And “Get the hell out of here!” is said in seriousness almost as often as it is said in the spirit of sheer fun. Some fun!

CALLING ON GOD

Apparently there was never a time in history nor a parody on religion in which the people did not constantly call on God or the gods. Perhaps that is a kind of inverted proof of man’s closeness to the supernatural. The pagan nations, for instance, were eternally demanding the attention of their gods.

“By Jove!” “By Venus!” “May Bacchus hear me!”-these were merely Roman equivalents for the “By Zeus!” “As Aphrodite is my mistress!” “As true as Pallas Athena hears me!” among the Greeks. Way back in Babylon and Egypt the men who were least likely to pray to the gods and goddesses were most likely to use the names of those gods and goddesses to testify that they were not offering a bad silver coin or that the mare they were selling did not have the spavin disease.

REVERENCE FOR HIS NAMES

Against this frivolous use of the gods’ names-a custom characteristic of pagandom-the Jewish religion protected the Holy Name of their God with the most solemn laws. Lest the name of the true God be used as carelessly as were those of Osiris or Astarte or Baal or Mercury, God’s proper name was never pronounced. Only the consonants without the vowels were printed, and in place of God’s sacred name another name was substituted.

Under the direct guidance of God Himself the Jews felt that His name was too holy a thing to be dragged around the stables of the racecourse, into the taverns of the village, under the feet of the mules and camels in the inn court, or on the rug spread to receive the gamblers’ dice. That name must be kept for prayer and solemn petition.

Hence God’s name was used only with the utmost reverence and directly toward God Himself. It was a potent name which, when invoked, drew to the speaker the attention of the creator of heaven and earth. It was a name so strong that cities fell at its sound. It was the word symbol for the omnipotent maker of all things, the king of heaven and the Lord of Hosts.

So, let the pagans swear by Hercules if they wanted to. The one and only God of the Jews was no demi-deity, no mere deified hero, no human passion turned into a weakling god. If a Roman gambler called upon Mercury to give him a run of luck, it was because he regarded Mercury as a trickster who was not above loading the dice. If the name of Bacchus was tossed around the banquet table, it was taken for granted that the unsavoury god would have felt right at home with the other drunkards.

But to the Jews the name of their God was the name of the glorious maker and ruler of the universe. He was their Father, their gracious king. His name was their shield and protection in time of battle. His name was a word too sacred to be heard outside the holiest courts of the Temple.

CHRIST SPEAKS

Christ continued this command against the careless use of His Father’s name. He outlawed frivolous and purposeless oaths of all sorts. He bade His followers invoke upon one another only what was good and noble. Christ could see no possible parallel between the careless pagan’s crying out “By Jove!” to invoke that libertine of Olympus and the true believer’s swearing “By God!” and “By the Almighty!”-words which called upon the one true God to turn His attention to the affairs of men.

HIS OWN DEAR NAME

The name of Jesus Christ should have for us the loveliest and most gracious of associations.

It is the name chosen by the Almighty for His Son. It is the name that Mary whispered over the crib of her Baby. When the shepherds and the Magi asked in wonder, “What is His name?” Mary smiled and answered, “He is called Jesus.”

In that name demons were hurled from their victims. At that name hell itself trembled and the prince of evil knew that he had found his conqueror.

That name blends all our hopes: The name Jesus means our Saviour; the name Christ means the one anointed by God and intended to be our king and leader.

So throughout history the Church has cried out to the Trinity in the firm certainty that she would receive grace and power and light and strength when she asked favours. “ . . . through Jesus Christ Our Lord. Amen.”

IN THE NAME OF . .

There can be strength and meaning in the use of a name. There is the story of the general of the American Revolution who pounded on the doors of the British fort and demanded entrance “in the name of the Lord God Jehovah and the Continental Congress.” Ambassadors speak in the name of the countries they represent. Even the fairy tales pay tribute to the power of the name, for the evil genii of “The Arabian Nights” were held captive in the name of Solomon, and gates were mysteriously opened when the name of a great spirit was spoken.

DIVINE POWER

So with divine authority Jesus Christ gave to His name tremendous power.

“Whatsoever you shall ask the Father in my name,” He promised, “that will I do.”

He reminded His followers that hitherto they had asked nothing in His name. Henceforth His name was to be a magic word strong enough in its utterance to open the gates of heaven and to touch the very heart of the eternal Father.

No wonder that the Apostles immediately began to preach and work miracles “in His name.” In His name they bade the lame man arise and walk, and he obeyed. In His name they faced the hostile multitudes and won them to truth. In His name they marched out to conquer the world of their day, and with no other power they won through to victory.

TERRIBLE TRANSITION

It would be interesting to know just how the Holy Name of Jesus Christ came to pass from this glorious and powerful invocation to the casual, contemptuous, and sinful use current in the world today. A dreadful sort of parody on prayer seems to be involved in the distortion. It is as if a brilliant enemy of Christ had taken the name of the Saviour and twisted it to the most frivolous and debased uses.

But how did all this happen? Originally the name of Jesus Christ was spoken by the Christians in loving reverence and with trust in its power. Did some pagan servant hear a matron say, as she cradled her child, “Jesus Christ, protect him” “Jesus Christ, make her pure”? And did that servant in contemptuous parody of her mistress use the name over her pots and pans as deliberate blasphemy? Did the persecutors of those early days catch the name from the lips of the martyrs and lisp it in obscene imitation, hissing it to echo horribly the prayers of the saints?

Did the Devil himself, fearing the power of that name, determine that the Holy Name should be stripped of its power by the mouthings of filthy lips? Did he teach base tongues to use it for the vilest purposes? Did he order his followers to drag that name from the churches into the brothels, from the homes of virgins into the taverns of water fronts?

However it was brought about, that Holy Name soon must have been invoked, as now it is, to bring luck in card playing, to accompany the beastly swillings of a low drinking house. Soon, quite too soon, the Holy Name became the common “curse word” of men and women who hated Christ, no longer believed in Him, or regarded Him as of no importance. And so it has remained to this day.

WHY NOT AS IT WAS MEANT?

And here again, what a tragic waste of opportunity!

Originally the Holy Name was meant to be used to work miracles of grace upon the world. It was a name for blessings. It was the name that rang with the certain hope of God’s loving bounty and protection.

“Jesus Christ,” prayed the early Christians, “give the whole world the joy of your truth.” . . .”Christ Jesus, protect men against all evil.” . . .”You promised, O blessed Saviour, that whatever we asked in your name you would grant. So we ask for the conversion of our land, freedom from sin for all men, forgiveness for the dying, innocence for our children.” . . .”Grant us eternal life, beloved Jesus.” . . .”Pour forth your grace upon the earth, O blessed Trinity, through Jesus Christ Our Lord, Amen.”

How different this was and how different it could be again from the brutal slashing of Christ’s name by soldiers and sailors and labourers and professional men and by women and entertainers and children! Surely this is a time when we need over us the protection and saving power of the name of Christ! How terrible that it is used in blasphemy and contempt, in obscenity and in sin!

UTTERLY WITHOUT STRENGTH

I don’t know where men got the idea that it was manly to swear and curse. “Good man’s talk” in all too many cases is just a phrase covering the right of the male to sprinkle his conversation with oaths and curses. No man can conceivably be more manly because he uses dirty vocabulary any more than he can be considered more manly because he doesn’t bathe or shave. No man is the stronger for his having lost control of his language. And if slovenly dress is the sign of a tramp, slovenly speech is the sign of a cultured hobo.

So often you hear from men-ashamed, as any decent man is when he stops to think of his oathsome, curseful speech-that cursing has become such a habit with them that they can no longer control that sort of talk in themselves. That’s a simple lie. It’s just about the weakest alibi they could present. I’ve known many a man who in the company of other men swore continuously. The moment these fellows passed into a company that would not tolerate language like that-say a group of fastidious women-their talk entirely changed. They had complete control over their speech. They swore merely because they liked it, because they thought it made them appear tough and hairy, because they felt it was a way of impressing other men with their brawn and hardness.

When unbrushed teeth, and dirty ears, and fingernails heavy with dirt become signs of strength, dirty speech will be a sign of manliness.

. . . AND UTTERLY WITHOUT CHARM

It is my simple conclusion, one that any person would reach with a little thinking, that cursing and swearing are the most unoriginal and stupid forms of speech in the world. Yet a lot of people indulge in swearing as if that were an accomplishment, and you meet young people who are brashly proud of their mastery of gutter and pigsty oaths.

Not long ago I received a letter from a youngster, high-school age, who set herself to show off. In an obvious attempt to shock or impress me, she filled her pages with-well, what women sometimes refer to in polite understatement as “slang words.”

Of course, I wasn’t shocked in the way she had meant me to be shocked. I felt only bored and disgusted and embarrassed for her. It was disturbing to think that this kid even knew-at a time of life when she should be sweet, innocent, and gay-the words she used. I was sorry, very, very sorry that a girl thought it smart to copy the language of men without faith and women without virtue.

STALE STUFF

But if she expected me to be impressed with her virtuosity, if she expected me to be amazed at her mastery of strange and esoteric words, she was absolutely mistaken. She was simply a poor imitator of experts, who themselves repeated “ad nauseam” the same old tiresome words soiled by alley use, frayed to the hem by rough handling.

I’d met a dozen truck drivers who could teach her profanity that could make her pitiful carbon copies sound like nursery rhymes. The words she uttered with such a gleam of discovery in her eyes were stale when William the Conqueror first landed in England; hackneyed when the Crusaders went off to the First Crusade. The phrases she used clumsily and fumblingly had been expertly used by pirates on Moslem fleets and camel drivers of Genghis Khan and concubines in African ports.

I’ve yet to hear anything new in profanity or anything fresh or original from a man or a woman who swears.

CORRECTION

No. That is not entirely correct.

There is just one man I can recall who used a profane word amusingly. That was Ring Lardner. In one of his parody letters he mimicked the “pious” insincerity of those who do not dare print the world hell in its full form but who bowdlerize the word by omitting the vowel and spelling the word “h-11.” Lardner’s ignoramus letter writer wrote the nasty word “he-11.”

CURSING SHOWS

Among the rest of mankind swearing indicates just one of several demeaning and abashful things:

It indicates a complete lack of faith in God Himself.

It shows a contempt for Jesus Christ.

It proves how little one knows about the meaning of words and the significance of ideas.

It shows a total lack of originality.

Unless people no longer believe in God, they are strange indeed if they curse and swear. For if they believe in God and call upon Him to damn others, to damn even themselves, don’t they think He might in the end listen to them? Yet, on the other hand, if they do not believe in God, what value is there to cursing and swearing? They would be much smarter if they ranged the long catalogue of the pagan gods and goddesses, who not only have names that lend themselves to swearing but vices to which each oath could be attached.

Since the modern world has gone so pagan, anyhow, why not a new order of swearing? “By Neptune, I’ll get that submarine!” “Holy Icharus, look at that fellow fly!” “Suffering Sisyphus, I’m tired!” “Big bulls of Bashan, I’m drunk!”

But when pagans curse in Christian words, they are making fools of themselves. They are calling on a God in Whom they do not believe, to damn someone to a damnation they regard as ridiculous, in a hell they do not believe exists.

With curses they consign to what they regard as a non-existent punishment people they might as well invite to journey to the moon, to Tophet, to Lilliput, or to the diamond caves of Sinbad.

But, I repeat, if people who believe in God curse and swear, they had better watch their step. For I wonder whether the God called upon in prayer or imprecation may not in the end answer in proper fashion both kinds who lift or fling their voices to His throne.

The contempt that swearers show for Jesus Christ is clear enough. If they do not believe in Him, why do they spend so much time using His name? Why not take Julius Caesar instead, or Nabuchodonosor (or Nebuchadnezzar)-a lovely name to swear by-or Genghis Khan. Is their use of His name a simple proof that they do believe in Him and cannot get Him out of their minds or off their lips?

SENSELESS

But if a Catholic uses the name of Jesus Christ in this profane fashion, what can he expect from the Saviour in return? Accustomed to a blasphemous use of the name, how can he in any decency call upon Christ in prayer? He brings to Him in Holy Communion the very lips that used His name as a byword to the accompaniment of rotten stories and enacted vice. May the Saviour Himself have mercy on the strangely twisted creature-the man or the woman-who pretends to be His follower and yet uses His name as a constant oath.

Of all the senseless, stupid customs in the world, cursing is about the worst.

Those who do not believe in God are merely wasting their time when they curse.

Those who believe in God are running the risk of His taking them seriously when they curse.

What thoughtless, stupid creatures men and women can be!

A REALLY GOOD CUSSER

The most effective cusser I ever heard of never used a really profane word in his life. He was the Catholic coach of a football team, and he believed that a team moved more effectively when it was goaded on by the spur of vigorous language. Yet he regarded the names of God and Christ as deeply sacred. And the common curses he had heard all his life he disdained as worn to pitiful shreds.

So he invented his cursing as he went along.

“Great balls of codfish!’ he’d cry, and his team would wilt.

“You fat, lazy hamburgers!” he’d shout, and the team would jump as if he’d whipped them.

“I’ll horndoozle the lot of you. By the great mooncalf you can all go jump into a bed of molten lava! Dad bing you, you big white slugs!”

The team could never decide whether they marvelled more at his ability to think out new plays or his ability to dig up expurgated curses that made the plays effective.

TOO BIG TO SWEAR

The most feared director in Hollywood never uses a curse or an oath. He regards his reputation for originality and quick thinking too highly to borrow anyone’s stale, insipid language. So he leaves profanity and blasphemy to the small fry who can’t think of clever things to say and who must depend on the dated, tiresome, manhandled, and now quite meaningless profanity of our language.

It’s the blustering fellow putting up a false front, afraid of being caught and found out, arrogant in his small powers and uncertain of his ability to dominate a situation who bluffs it out with a flow of bad language. A man completely in control of the situation no more has to curse and swear than he has to jump up and down and tear paper off the walls.

PLAIN STUPID

I’m sorry to confess it-but whenever I hear anyone swearing fluently, I put him down as a stupid person. My first expectation is to find him to be some illiterate oaf with long-standing dirt caked behind his ears and his whole person giving forth an unpleasant odour. If he doesn’t fit that picture, I put him down as weak and uneducated. He has had to fall back on rough language even though that language has been used so long and so hard that it really no longer has any vitality. Clearly he isn’t aware of the barren, jejune quality of the language he uses; he still, poor fool, thinks it smart and effective.

Beyond that I decide that he is too limited in vocabulary to find the correct word for the situation. He doesn’t know any adjectives, so he has to depend on damn and hell for his shades of meaning. When he wants to be emphatic, he must shout loudly or turn to oaths and curses that have for centuries been tiresome, stale, repellent tags of speech.

Then if by some chance I learn that the swearer is supposed to be clever, a man or a woman of some reputation for brilliance, I decide promptly that he has started to lose his grip. Or perhaps, he is feeling tired and flat today. Or maybe I caught him in a relaxed condition, with his mental hair all down. Or perhaps he is not so clever as he would like to have me believe. In his profanity at least he has to borrow from the illiterate tramp, the day labourer who missed both background and educational opportunity, the sailor recovering from a drunken bout, the woman of the gutters, and the children of the slums.

WE CATHOLICS

We Catholics who believe in God and love Christ and respect the pure-minded and the pure-lipped Mary simply cannot afford to be part of the national slump into swearing.

If we are, let us confess it to our shame and make amends and reparation and resolutions.

If we use the Holy Name to curse, we almost cease to be Catholics. We drag the name of our Leader into ugly situations and sinful places. We call upon Jesus Christ, not to save the world, but to have part in its evils and vices. We use that powerful name less in the wonderful strength of prayer than in frivolous contexts, silly situations, evil purposes.

If we curse, we either have to set aside our faith or cling to it. If we hold on to our faith, how can we ask God to damn anything? If we fear hell for ourselves, how can we even in the most sickly jest wish it for others? If at the moment when we utter evil language we give up our faith and make the words mean nothing, aren’t we guilty of a sort of apostasy? Aren’t we denying great Catholic truths? Aren’t we being plain stupid?

STUPID IMITATION

What we really do when we swear is ape the worst side of the pagans. Pagans have always sworn and cursed.

They always will. Not respecting their gods or our God, they drag gods and God into their gutter talk and use them to ornament their foul stories. They call the gods to witness their lies and sins and vices and debaucheries. Caring little for their neighbours, they freely consign them to hell and damnation.

Let them act in this wise. It fits in well with their general lack of faith and their ignorance of Christ’s great law of love.

But we? Their ways are not our ways. Let them curse the sun because it shines too much and the rain because it falls too seldom. Let them welcome their friends with salvos of jovial curses and pour out in vicious hatred exactly those same curses upon their most hated foes. Let them make profanity, if they must, fashionable. But even the smartest among them cannot make it other than the tiresome release of a dull mind and the frank evidence of stupid unoriginality and vulgar imitation.

We Catholics cannot follow these senseless ways.

God gave us our tongues for the purpose of speaking the truth and expressing beauty and singing songs and chanting poetry. He gave us His powerful name and the name of His Son for our strength and salvation. He gave us strong words with which to frighten the evil spirits away from our salvation. He gave us powerful, charming words to be used in prayer.

Let’s call down upon the earth the living presence of God and the rains of His benefits. Leave swearing and cursing to the stupid, the vulgar, the ignorant, the pagan, the unbeliever, the vile.

It is our happy privilege to lift our voices to summon God to our side, to bring down the blessings of the Father upon all mankind, to win for our brothers and sisters, for all mankind, the benediction from on high. ********

Our Lady of Good Counsel Pray For Us

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Edel Quinn

BY FRANK DUFF

INDEX

I am going to begin at the end in a certain sense, and that for the purpose of putting things in regard to Edel Quinn in their proper setting from the first moment. I take for you the words of the Holy Father spoken in respect of Mgr. Suenens’ book on that great little lady. The Holy Father says in a peremptory sort of way that this Life must be made known. Lest you might think that the Holy Father issues that sort of compliment or saying freely, let me assure you to the contrary. His suggestion to that effect represents something which is unusual.

In the second place, the Holy Father’s great Representative, first in Africa and later on in China, Mgr. Riberi, endorses a statement made by Mgr. Suenens in the course of the book. That statement was that, hidden in the depths of the African jungle, Edel Quinn was helping to save China. And in his Preface to that book, Mgr. Riberi rises even higher, asserting that this girl was destined by sheer force of example to influence the course of history. Elsewhere he says that, but for the inspiration which he derived from her, he could not have found possible the task of launching the Legion of Mary in civilwar China. It is to be insisted that those are not words spoken lightly just for the sake of being pleasing; because the subject is too serious for that. You will realise that in those words lies an extraordinary valuation of a person. Saving China! Influencing the course of history! These are rather big enunciations to make about a person.

Next, I tell you what you already know, namely that her Cause has been recently introduced. It is at an unexpectedly early stage. The long period of waiting which usually occurs after the death of the person has been cut short. While the majority of those who new her well are still in the land of the living, there is her Cause on the carpet! And perhaps to a big number may be given the privilege of standing before a Tribunal and testifying concerning her. Mostly the testimonies about those whose Cause is being examined into, proceed from the reading of documents written by people who are long dead, and that is not the most satisfactory way of examining into a case.

It is evident that we are in the presence of no common personage. Editions of her Life continue to issue from the printing presses in many languages. And now letters are pouring in to us abundantly which tell of favours which people think they have received through her intervention. I have read a number of them. They give the impression that there is something at work. It is sufficiently evident in any case that a vast number of people are now thinking in terms of her, and in their various trials and needs are turning to her and saying to her: “Won’t you help me?”

While I am not going to attempt a sketch of her life, still I suppose I had better lay a foundation by giving a recital of the major events of her earlier life.

She was born in 1907 in a part of Ireland which has produced many distinguished people, that is Co. Cork. The precise place was Kanturk. Her father was a bank official, whose lot it is to be transferred a good deal. As he moved around, he took his little family along with him, eventually settling down in Dublin. Thus he was in many places. You will remember what is said about Homer the Greek poet, that once he was dead a hundred cities disputed the honour of being his birthplace. Now we find that not a few places are claiming the distinction of having Edel Quinn resident in them for a while.

EDEL JOINS THE LEGION

Her first job was about 1925; it was that of shorthand-typist. It immersed her in the ordinary bustle of the city; work, amusement, religious activity getting their turn. About the year 1927, a friend brought her into the Legion and of that encounter she declares that it was a case of love at first sight. It laid its grip upon her heart at once and that grip did not relax but did indeed tighten with each new day. In its system she found what she needed. Nourished by its Marian doctrine, its practical idealism, and by the pretty grim tasks which fell to her lot, her essential quality began to show itself. Anything committed to her was done well, and quickly it was seen how well. Her fellow-members marked her down as first-rate, and then the higher authorities of the Legion got word of her and began to discuss her.

The presidency of a very difficult branch became vacant. It was the branch which visited the lowdown women’s lodging houses of Dublin. At that time these were unspeakable dens and accordingly the work was really exacting. The president, as I say, left, and the members sent word along that a specially excellent person was needed to fill the vacant post. After a little pause Edel Quinn arrived on the scene to take up office. To say that they were horrified is to put it mildly. As they said in a caucus meeting which they held immediately after the other meeting (with her absent): A child has been sent to lead us! And they did not think this adequate. So they despatched their Spiritual Director over to headquarters to register their emphatic protest. He came back to them the following week and communicated the result of his mission rather briefly. He said that he had cut no ice.

HER VOCATION

Soon it became evident to them that they had a worthy leader: a leader among leaders. They rejoiced in their good fortune. But not for too long. Because it became rumoured around that she had other ideas; that she had always cherished the ambition of becoming a Poor Clare, and that the time was now approaching when she was going to realise that aim.

The place in question was Belfast. Her original intention had been to enter the Convent in Donnybrook, that far-famed, even proverbial suburb of Dublin. But the Poor Clares thought that Belfast was the more in need of a newcomer. So to Belfast it was settled she should go. All prior arrangements were complete, but on the eve of her departure came a shattering event. It was her physical breakdown. The trouble was T.B., more gravely regarded then than now; even in the few years which have elapsed great gains have been secured against that malady.

She was rushed off to Newcastle Sanatorium in Co. Wicklow and there she spent about a year and a half. In that place she made an indelible impression. The collection of evidence from people who met her there has been an interesting process. The Matron’s judgment concerning her-and here let it be added that the Matron was not a Catholic-was that nobody had ever been in that hospital who was like her. She stood out in ways that were tangible and ways that were not. As an exampleof the pressure of her personality, note the incident, recounted in Mgr. Suenens’ book, of the young nurse on night duty who was faced with the sudden collapse of a patient. Actually the patient died on her hands. It is a remarkable fact that it was not to her own authorities- the Matron or anybody else-that she ran in this moment of panic, but to Edel Quinn. She roused Edel up out of bed and brought her along to help her. An extraordinary fact, if you just analyse it!

The circumstances under which she departed from Newcastle Sanatorium are not of the very clearest. I have no doubt that the distinguished Roman Official, who is popularly called the Devil’s Advocate, will be asking awkward questions there. It is not absolutely certain that she got a clear bill or a clear permission. In any case, out she came.

She went back to her home and to her job. After an interval she came back to the Legion. She was so shepherded along that she complained that it was as if they had her sitting up in a coffin. She was not allowed to do the sort of satisfying (by which was meant enterprising and trying) work that she wanted.

Then a period ensued in which that extraordinary spirit was kept in a cage, harnessed, tied down in every way. It lasted until 1936 and it terminated rather dramatically. In that year efforts were being made to spread the Legion over England. The English Legionaries had then no experience of extension work, whereas we had many practised in it. So it was agreed that many teams would be put into the field, each consisting of an English Legionary and an Irish one.

We appealed for volunteers and a large number presented themselves. Among them was her ladyship. This was more than a surprise; it was startling. The notion did not recommend itself at all. Her offer was gently refused and she was reminded of the arduous nature of the work in question. Indeed she had no need to be reminded, for she had done much of it and she knew.

EXTENSION WORK IN WALES

But she pleaded with an insistence, which only she could manage, that she be allowed to go. She argued that all were killing her with kindness and really preventing her recovery by tying her down too much. Of course the young lady, as she always did, had her way. It was agreed that she should go. There was one difference. Instead of putting her with an English Legionary, she was partnered by an old friend of her own, Muriel Wailes, who knew every detail about her and would ensure watchfulness and check.

The spiritual scene was one of dire necessity. Religion was languishing, capable of being described as half-dead; hardly a lay person lifting his finger for it. Hardly one who even thought he had any duty in that direction. The conversion of the country was unthought of; the supreme height aimed at was good conduct. What wonder then that lapsing was the order of the day.

The two knights-errant had no idle moments. From dawn to dark they moved through the area, proposing this New Idea. What travelling! How much explaining and repetition! How much apparent beating of the air! And yet plenty of success in the end! Goodwill stirred up; many branches actually started, with others in prospect.

The pair returned overjoyed. A very comforting report was presented. The invalid was radiant and it was evident that the exertions had done her no harm. Not long after her return she made a second visit to H.Q. It was to voice some afterthoughts. She considered it to be essential that there should be someone living over there who would carry on the efforts of that fortnight. And so she had made up her mind to go to Chester, get a post there, and fill that role.

Behold at this juncture a notable coincidence! From Ruby Dennison, then the Legion Envoy in South Africa, were proceeding most urgent appeals for help in her vast area. And so the thought came; what about sending Edel Quinn to South Africa? It would be a good assignment from the point of view of her ailment, and certainly it would give her the sense of mission which seemed to be necessary to her. After some consideration this was proposed to her and it was accepted with an eagerness which was wonderful to witness. Thus it was arranged that she should go to South Africa.

But we know the old saying: “The best laid schemes of mice and men gang aft agley.” And that one went astray because at that moment Dr. Heffernan, C.S.Sp., then Bishop of Zanzibar and Nairobi, wrote to say that he had heard there was question of Edel Quinn going out to Africa. Might he beg that she be sent to his territory, which was so much in need of the Legion? If she were, he would look after every detail. He would guarantee the co-operation of all his missionaries. He would arrange her itinerary.

What a tempting proposition! After all, South Africa had a good envoy while Central Africa had none. The difficulty was already being felt of helping missionaries to start branches through correspondence. How admirably that problem would be solved by her being an envoy there! And what an envoy! She would start a prairie fire there-that is, if she survived. For the fact had to be faced that Central Africa was a greater health hazard. Accordingly there was much weighing up, many misgivings, but in the end the Officers agreed to recommend that she be sent.

The question of getting sanction from the Concilium, the central governing body of the Legion, came next, and provides a whole chapter in Mgr. Suenens’ book. What happened had a peculiar supernatural quality, because at that time really only the higher Officers of the Legion were in favour of the scheme. The general body of the Legionaries were against it. People would meet you in the street, stop you, and protest indignantly against the story which they had heard that this delicate young girl was marked down for slaughter. Feeling appeared to be rising and the indications were that when the proposition came up at Concilium, it would be overwhelmed. Yet the amazing Concilium session on the subject ended in a contrary course: it unanimously decreed her mission. Though several initially spoke against it, not one person maintained that course to the point of voting against her going. In the circumstances one would be tempted to exclaim: “A miracle!” but for the fact that here that word must be sparingly applied.

OFF TO AFRICA

Then arrangements had to be hurried on feverishly. Bishop Heffernan had requested that Edel should come out with a party of his own missionaries who were travelling at the end of October. Rushing to book a berth for her on that boat, it was found that there was not one left. But later on the Company signified that a single-berth first-class cabin was available. Normally, envoys cannot receive that amount of consideration, for funds have always been restricted. But this was different. Edel had to be on that boat, and it was a case of that cabin or nothing. So it was booked. It was destined to play an additional, a providential role. There were a good number of priests on board so that a sacristy was needed and an extension of the Mass-saying accommodation. Accordingly Edel was appointed sacristan. She vacated the cabin early in the morning and it became an Oratory in which many Masses were said daily. But this is looking ahead.

The date of sailing was to be the 29th October, 1936, from London. A party accompanied her thus far. Some days were spent there in making visits and purchases. One episode must be given because of its picturesqueness. The London Legionaries had written that they wished to make it plain how much their hearts were with her in her great adventure and that they were arranging a farewell function on the evening before her departure. So to it our party went. When we arrived, the then President of the Legion in England, Mrs. de la Mare, was in a remoter part of the premises and she was sent for. Coming, she was introduced to Edel Quinn, whom she surveyed with a bewildered gaze. Why?

Years before that evening, Mrs. de la Mare had made her first visit to Ireland. One day some Legionaries came to her and said: “We are taking you on a trip through the Garden of Ireland, namely Co. Wicklow. Also we will drop in to see a sick friend of ours who is in hospital down there.” I have not to tell you who the sick friend was. Mrs. de la Mare spent a session with Edel, who made the profoundest sort of impression upon her. Mrs. de la Mare was terribly oppressed by whatever report had been given to her of the health of Edel; she put her into the category of the dying. Yet she was overwhelmed by the vivid personality that was before her, and by the incredible impression of good spirits and life and even vigour. Though Miss Quinn’s name did not remain in her mind, her face remained vivid ever afterwards in Mrs. de la Mare’s memory. After a while she assigned her to the company of the dear departed. Then came the rumours about this envoy to Africa, and now is the night of the reception. Mrs. de la Mare is face to face with Edel Quinn who, I might inform you, was an absolutely ravishing figure that evening. She was wearing a blue silk dress, to which other tongues could do more justice than mine. She certainly looked most beautiful.

“Imagine,” said Mrs. de la Mare, when speech came back to her, “my stupefaction to behold in the intrepid adven turer of Africa the poor invalid of Newcastle! It is like seeing somebody step out of a grave and greet you.”

An eleventh-hour postponement put back the sailing to the 30th. On the sunny morning of that day the voyage to Africa commenced. The boat was the Llangibby Castle, which only recently made its own last voyage to the shipbreakers.

ENVOY IN AFRICA

Edel’s log, or almost daily series of letters, kept her in touch with home during the three-week ocean journey. It exhibited her in a new and lively light, for never before had there been a substantial exchange of letters with her. The picture thereby afforded of her trip-and of herself-is really worth reading through the medium of Mgr. Suenens’ book.

Mombasa was reached on the morning of the 23rd November. By the instructions of Bishop Heffernan, Edel did not remain there but proceeded that very day to Nairobi, a long journey of 350 miles and 18 hours. There began the toil of envoyship which terminated nearly eight years later with her death in the same place.

One may divide that superb adventure into four parts. The first phase was the one disposed by Bishop Heffernan. The arrangement in the main was that each missionary would be responsible for her in his own area. He would provide her with transport and with audiences. He would help her in all possible ways towards the explaining of the Legion and the setting up of branches. When her work was done, he would place her in the care of the next missionary.

That arrangement worked out perfectly from our point of view for many reasons. It spared us all expense in regard to transport and we had the comfort of knowing that somebody was looking after her and preventing excesses. But it did not please the little lady herself. And I need not tell you that this meant that the arrangement was going to cease at an early date. She said that it imposed an unjustifiable burden upon the missionaries; that it was all very well in these home countries to talk of a missionary putting her into the hands of the next missionary. But when the next was 100 miles away and through the jungle, the thing was not right or fair and she protested against it. She proposed that she be permitted to buy a car. That permission was given and she announced the purchase in the quaint fashion almost of a Royal Proclamation-something to this effect: “Take note that on this day the Legion of Mary has become the owner of a Ford coupe, model V8, of the year 1932, at a cost of £40.” Apparently the car was not as bad as that price suggests. In any case it looked all right in the photograph which came along.

One condition had however been imposed upon her by us and was going to be insisted upon. It was that she was not to drive that car herself except around a town. In other words there were to be no long trips where she would drive herself. The reason for this was that she would not be physically able to crank up the car if that were required. Nor would she be able to repair it, so that a breakdown in the heart of the jungle would be an unthinkable prospect. Hence the insistence that she must have a driver. She agreed to that condition and observed it

Her driver was a man. His name was Ali, but we always called him Ali Baba. He was a native Mohammedan. With that man in the driving seat, she beside him, and a rifle in the back of the car for protection against animals, she covered uncountable thousands of miles. An epic was accomplished exceeding any other that one remembers hearing of. That young girl, at the mercy of that driver, plunging out to the end of every track! It was her duty to meet all the missionaries (and they lived in difficult and inaccessible places enough) and help them to start the Legion. But should you speak to her about the risk of those proceedings, the only satisfaction you would get would be her gentle laughter, perhaps a reference to “heroics” and the suggestion that mountains were being manufactured out of molehills.

For that modernised knight-errantry Edel was ideally cast, save for the health factor which did not as yet cause trouble. In that plunging out on those incredible jungle missions, through the swamps and the forests, she had come into her element. Imperturbable, smiling, happy, eager for fun and (to use her own words) “leg-pulling”-you could not distress her, you could not disturb her. It was impossible to ruffle the cheerfulness that was her first feature.

But that light manner was not accompanied by slack performance. Her competence was supreme, her will was firm, her methods exact. Nothing was left to take care of itself. To her with justice could be applied that Scriptural valuation: “Thou good and faithful servant.”

AN AFRICAN MUD-BATH

The stories that poured in from the various missionaries and other people who dealt with her are innumerable and impressive. One of the early ones comes to mind. A missionary came to us, as they all did, to tell us about her. He had been hearing for some time of her approach to his own region, and accordingly he was more or less expecting her. One day at Mass he turned round from the altar to give Holy Communion and among the faces along the altar-rails was a contrasting one. Then, as he put it, he knew that Edel Quinn had come to town. He sent the altar-boy to tell her not to go away after mass but to join him at breakfast, and that was his first encounter with her. She worked out the preliminaries with him then, and she told him that on the following day she had to travel back to her port of previous call where the first meeting of the Praesidium had been arranged for.

“That is good,” he said, “because I would like to go with you and see how a first meeting is run off. I will look after the question of transport.”

But during the night an African storm raged, and the following day an ocean of mud lay between the two places.

He said to her after Mass: “You are not making that little journey today as you expected.” “Oh,” she replied, “I will have to do it. I promised faithfully to be there and I emphasised that nothing at all should keep anybody away. It would be a ludicrous thing if I myself am the chief absentee.” “They will understand,” he said. “They know the conditions and they will be the first to appreciate your inability to be present.” In real grief she said: “I would not understand itmyself,” and she added: “I will have to go.” He explained that there was no means of going; no car and no driver could negotiate things. For the road was not visible. His case was convincing but it did not convince her to whom it was presented. Finally he had to yield to her distress. He went off and got a very powerful lorry and a very expert driver. They put chains on the wheels and the three of them set out for the place which was 8 miles away. In some incredible fashion they managed seven miles. At the end of that distance the lorry got stuck in the mud; the three of them scrambled out and more by swimming than walking they reached their destination in a state that can be imagined. But they reached it. That was one of the touches which were found proceeding from her all the time and which were so typical of her as to be her veritable trade-mark. Idealism, which is latent in all, is just ready to be stirred up by such things, so that those around Edel put forth their best and tried to meet her half-way.

Another luminous episode was the time they were defrauded in the matter of petrol. Insufficient petrol was put into the tank with the result that the car stopped in the middle of the jungle. The driver told her that they would have to walk back and try to get a drop of petrol somewhere. But that the journey might be a big one, and Edel would not be able to do it. It was agreed accordingly that she would stay behind in the car, and he set out on his journey of discovery. I need not tell you that the thoughts of the average person in that emergency would not be very pleasant ones. Out there in the heart of the jungle! At any moment there may be a lion pawing savagely at the window to get in! You know the corroding power of anxiety and how strain can upset mental balance, so that one becomes almost sure that the driver will never come back. He was gone for good, leaving me to my fate! Well, when many hours later he did come back with a little petrol, enough to start the car and keep it going for a while, he found her very placidly working away at her correspondence, quite unperturbed by any of those thoughts that might afflict the weaker ones among us.

Another happening, which certainly did not lose in the subsequent telling around the territory, was based on the fact that it was her custom to offer a lift to anyone who might be going her way. Frequently this invitation would be accepted. On this occasion a Holy Ghost Brother availed of the lift. He was going on holidays and he said that the rapid run in the car would be a tremendous facility to him. But it was far from rapid; it stretched out to two days. We are told that he spent most of those days on the broad of his back either repairing mechanical defects in the car or mending punctures. He mended eight punctures. When he got to his destination he took himself to bed, and the Bishop said he had merited it well.

It is not suggested that this misbehaviour was typical of the car, because in general it was satisfactory. Archbishop McCarthy, who has introduced Edel’s Cause, and who was the representative of the Holy See there, writes rather brightly about the car. Among others of its features he claims that its rattling was heard at long distances and regarded with pleasure, because Edel always brought spiritual sunshine with her.

It is alleged that there were competitions as to what colour the car was, because it varied according to the angle of inspection, and according to the degree of light.

THUMBING A RIDE

When she had no car, as was the case before and after the possession of this celebrated vehicle, her ordinary method of getting about, if she was not luckier, was to thumb a lift from a lorry. There were no buses; the ordinary method of travelling would be those lorries. The routine was that she would go out on to the road early in themorning, at 5 or 6 o’clock, and she would hold up her hand for an approaching lorry. These lorries would be packed full of African men. They would always stop for her and take her along-perhaps for a hundred miles. She would be deposited in some place where she would set about her business. Sometimes she might be able to come back later in the day, but sometimes she might have to stay for days. Again the return journey would be under the same conditions, a lift from a lorry. I wonder how many women would face up to that, to these long journeys along among those crowds of men. And yet there never was a case in her whole adventure where she was molested. The people realized that she loved them; that there was not in her one spark of that superiority of the stranger which they so much resent. They knew that she was glad to be with them, and they loved and respected her as they did nobody else. Her fame travelled through the whole territory and everybody was at her beck and call; everybody was eager to serve her.

THE ISLAND OF ST. MAURICE

The next phase of her adventure lay in her visit to Mauritius, far out in the Indian Ocean. She had been promised to that Island for a long time. Finally she saw a moment when she could do it, and she went. It was the time of the unrestricted submarine warfare in the Indian Ocean when one out of every two ships that sailed was torpedoed. Archbishop Leen watched her intently during the whole of her time on the Island, because in the early moments of her visit he recognised that she was unusual. He was an expert in the science of the saints. He watched her from that angle, and he subsequently delivered his considered opinion. It was that she was definitely “canonisable” He said he could detect no weakness in her. Incidently he referred to that aspect I have mentioned, that is her apparent freedom from fear. She did not appear to be subject to its dominion in any shape or form. Nothing seemed to deter or intimidate her.

It is said of her stay in Mauritius that it represented the only place from which she ever departed in tears. Whatever strange quality attached to the affection of the people there, one cannot guess. But such was its effect on her.

The interest of the Archbishop and her efforts were blessed. She left thirty-six excellent Praesidia at work behind her, and the movement was destined to grow ever stronger. She journeyed back through the peril of the Ocean, again without mishap, landing in Tanganyika. From that time forward she had no car. When she set out for Mauritius, she left it at Nairobi and she was never destined to sit in it again.

Back on the mainland but in more primitive territory! The climate was harder and there were few convents where she could put up. And though it was not suspected at home, she had been losing ground physically. Her bulletins showed the same steady output of energy and a corresponding yield in branches. Untiringly, unremittingly, interest always at full pitch, she pressed on from place to place. It was like saying a rosary except that each bead was a new locality; each was a contribution towards a clearly-seen purpose, towards the functioning of a primary missionary principle-which is the responsibility of the Africans for the evangelisation of their own continent. The idea is so fundamental that if it be not brought into full play, the Church cannot he universally extended or solidly founded.

“Miss Quinn—You Are Dying!”

But that rosary of places was said at a terrible cost to herself. Too late and with much sorrow, it was known that she was only half-alive. But on she went, her will outweighing her weakness. Till one day she entered into a conference with a Swiss missionary about the affairs of the Legion in his area. As she talked, he was looking at her in consternation. Suddenly he interjected: “Miss Quinn, do you not realise that you are dying? Have you made your preparation?” Such was the incredible position: she was a dying person, yet going around, carrying on her work. His statement was only too true, because she collapsed immediately. That event took place at Lilongwe in the year 1941. She was seized with dysentery, malaria and then pleurisy. She weighed at that time 70 lbs. A wire to us told us that she was dying. Bishop Julien, the White Father in whose territory she was working, came down to her to pay his final respects. He said Mass for her in an adjoining room and brought her Holy Communion. Then he stood beside her and thanked her for all that she had done for his people. He continued: “Everything that I have been able to do for you I have done. One thing remains to be done. It is to give you a funeral worthy of the great apostle that you are.”

There she was -a broken creature; reduced to the very last; all vitality drained out of her; far away from her kith and kin. One would expect those tender words of the Bishop to open the gates of emotion; that she would treat herself to the little luxury of giving in to tears. But no. He tells how she reacted to his announcement about the grand funeral that she was to get: she burst into uncontrollable laughter! It was so typical of her.

But she did not die. She pulled herself together sufficiently to be flown down to Johannesburg. In the hospital there, they said she might live a month. At the end of the month, they said she might live to the end of the year. At the end of the year, they said they thought she would live on, but she would never be fit to do any more work. All these predictions were successively proved wrong. She was transferred from Johannesburg to the Dominican Sanatorium in Umlamli, Aliwal North, and from there to the Benedictine one in Nongoma, Zululand. There she staged a restoration.

Ruby Roberts was our envoy at this time in South Africa. She wrote asking that Edel be prohibited from going back to Nairobi as she was saying she was going to do. So off went a wire prohibiting her from moving. The answer to that was a medical certificate saying that she was fit to go and should go; Nairobi would be a better place for her.

BACK ON THE ROAD

She flew back to Nairobi. The journey occupied three days, during all of which time she was air-sick. She had to be taken out of the plane in an ambulance and brought off to the convent where she was going to stay. She was in bed for twenty-four hours. She got up and resumed her old life in its old tempo. All this in wartime, with its added difficulties! She resumed her work but soon found that she had not her former strength. The prolonged safaris or rounds that she used to make, she found to be beyond her. She gained this knowledge in the hard way. She undertook an extended trip to Kisumu and broke down during it. After that in discussion with us she agreed that she would not try any more long journeys, but only short ones in the effort to find what we called her formula of resistance. She promised co-operation and we all thought the formula was gradually being worked out. We believed that there was a slow but steady restoration taking place. But all the time we were in a fool’s paradise.

Her centre was Nairobi. From it, as on a pivot, her activities radiated. She was staying with the Precious Blood Nuns, a German Order, and their kindness to her was unexampled. They gave her more than care. Her room was a disused sacristy beside the chapel in which was the Blessed Sacrament. This proximity was an honour and a joy to her. During this time occurred some episodes which are strange to read, and difficulties suggest themselves. On one occasion when the Nuns opened up in the morning time, they found her lying on the verandah outside, covered with the light coat which the day temperature of the place dictated. But this was in sight of Kilimanjaro, the peaks of which are snow-clad even out there, and icy winds proceed from them at night. When the Nuns came out to her, she was shaking all over with cold. She was quite blue and frozen and could hardly stand up. Observing this, they protested most angrily to her: “How could you do this to us? Why did you not ring the bell when you came back last night?” I must explain that comings and goings out there could not be regulated as in a city. Distances and journeys were big and transport unreliable, and storms were to be expected. The Nuns continued their indignant protest: “If only you had rung the bell, one of us would get up out of bed and let you in. She replied: “I could not bring myself to do that. You had your hard day and must get your rest.” Again they pleaded: “Don’t you do that to us. What is it to get up when we can go back again? You must promise that never will you do the like again.” Her answer was: “I cannot give you that promise because I know I will do it again if the situation recurs.” And she did it again.

It seems incorrect, and there again the Devil’s Advocate will ask searching questions. The answer is of course that there is no use applying the ordinary rules to her. The supreme ingredient in her was considerateness. She had a “delicate” soul. She could not hurt, she could not disturb, she could not inconvenience anybody; and it would be more than her brand of human nature would permit that she would ring the bell and take the Nuns up out of bed. In her we are not dealing with normality. We may as well realise that fact and allow for certain behaviours in her just as we would accommodate ourselves to a particular climate. The climate of her soul was different. Those occasional “imprudences,” “disobediences,” “recklessnesses” and kindred phenomena spring from holy depths in her and should be regarded thoughtfully. They might well be evidences of sanctity rather than arguments against it.

DEATH COMES TO THE ENVOY

In spite of the tender care given to her by everybody, her condition steadily deteriorated. Her steps grew slower and more feeble and shorter. Her breath became more laboured and more rapid; and every day new grey hairs came on to her head. She tells about this time that she was being taken for 60 years of age. But her spirit never weakened; in fact it seemed to assert itself the more; it positively drove her on. She gave the impression that she was filled with a desperate sense of urgency; that she knew now that she had very little time left, and that every second of that time must be availed of. So she pressed on and on and on in defiance of exhausted nature. But of this pathetic struggle those at home knew nothing. It would have been unduly optimistic to expect that Edel would be communicative on that subject. But it is at the least a puzzling circumstance that of all the people around her who loved her so dearly, not one thought fit to relay home the facts of her condition.

One Saturday I came home and found awaiting me one of those photographic airgraph letters of the wartime. It was from her. I opened it. I read it with an icy hand upon my heart. She described herself as too exhausted to work. When I read that, I said to myself: she is telling us that she is dying. Because those words had never been said by her before and never would in normal conditions. While I was reading that message over and over again, there was a ring on the door and a cable was delivered. That cable announced her death. Her brave spirit was no longer contained by its frail habitation. The date of her death was the 12th May, 1944.

It was my sad mission to bear to her parents the news of her death. They lived in Monkstown, Dublin. When her mother saw me, she burst out into loud sorrow and hurried to her bedroom to weep her heart out, although no one had yet told her, nor do I feel that my appearance told the tale. She knew at first glance.

In Africa there was an absolute wave of sorrow. Everyone seemed to feel her going as a personal loss. In that warm climate they hurry on a funeral. In her case they delayed it for twenty-four hours, so as to give the missionaries and the people over a wide area the opportunity of coming in to Nairobi to be present. There a wonderful ceremonial attended the laying of her in the Missionaries’ Cemetery, where now she rests. Really if you want to read something effective, you should study those chapters of Mgr. Suenens’ book which deal with her passing away and with that funeral. They represent some of the most beautiful descriptive writing I have ever known. Do not deny yourself that elevating experience.

Edel was a legend even in her lifetime, and that legend has gone on increasing, and now another stage has been entered by the introducing of her Cause.

THE MYSTERY OF EDEL

It is extraordinary that one so essentially simple and single-minded, moved by such direct motives, should at the same time present us with a mystery. Yet that is the position. It is impossible to solve her. She was a completely intangible character. She maintained an impenetrable reserve regarding her interior, and the digging up of material in that department presented an immense difficulty to the author of her Life. He had to go to infinite trouble by way of approaching all the priests and nuns who knew her in order to delve beneath the surface of her life.

I mentioned what Archbishop Leen said about her freedom from fear, but the same could be said in regard to the other natural repugnances. What did she like? What did she dislike? Nobody could ever make out. You could not imagine her being held back by anything from what she conceived to be her duty; nor could you think of her as displaying weakness in any position. Mention has been made of the possibility of a lion trying to get into the car in that period of waiting in the jungle. How would she react to that? I think I know perfectly well. Her reaction would be like that of St. Francis of Assisi. She would welcome that lion and say to him: “Have you come to take me away to the Lord, Brother?” Was she grim or insensitive like many hard men who have no sense of fear, but who have no other sort of feeling in them either? Do not think that about her, because it would be the opposite of the case. She was ultra-sensitive. She had a highly developed sensitive quality and her nature must have thrilled to every one of the natural signals. She loved her family intensely, especially her mother, but she never intended to go back to them again. She loved all her set of friends tremendously, but she walked away from them. I think everybody was in tears when the Llangibby Castle moved out from Tilbury Docks, except the young lady herself. What is the explanation of the mystery? Now the best explanation I am able to give is this one: that to an extent which is very seldom met with, spiritual motives were in possession of the centre of her being. I might put it more simply and say that the Lord and His Mother were living there in a way that they are not in most of us. Everything that presented itself through her senses was referred to Them. If things were not right, they just, so to speak, rebounded; they did not penetrate to cause harm or even hesitation. 1f things were right, in they rushed and lit a flame. There were two effects in all that. One was that the ordinary weaknesses and temptations which afflict us and toss us about like hay, did not affect her. It was as if her defences kept the enemy out, whereas with us the enemy gets in and is only dislodged after a struggle. Then on the other hand, things that were regarded as for good came in and lit that fire in her and carried her away. That is the explanation of those incorrectnesses that many people think they find in her. She is lying in bed in a state bordering on complete collapse and under strict orders not to get up. She hears that a Bishop has come into the territory 100 miles away, somebody that she had been waiting and wishing to see for a long time, because much depended on it. She gets out of bed, dresses, crushes down nature, sets off on that trip, accomplishes her mission, and comes back to bed! Wrong!

Absolutely wrong! But you cannot apply the common rules. The transaction ran away with her and that is all! But it had to be something essentially good to be able to do that with her.

The everyday faults were not to be seen in her and there could be no question of sin. If ever devotion were on tap, it was in her case. If ever there were courage, and if ever endurance were shown in a Cause, she showed it. At least in the first part of her expedition she exceeded the physical output of strong men, even of the Africans, which is an admitted fact. Would you know all that from being with her? No. She avoided doing anything which would bring attention on her. All around are girls who would behave much as she did. A prominent aspect was her tendency towards humour and good spirits. She was great fun in company. She laughed her way through everything. As a nun, who was protesting to her about something, once said indignantly: “Don’t start your laughing at me now, Miss Quinn. Just answer me these questions.” She had an intense sense of humour and occasionally this caused her to be misunderstood. She dropped in one time on a friend. Finding her lunching off baked beans, she smilingly remarked: “You are treating yourself to great luxury.” Her friend took that seriously and afterwards quoted it as an example of Edel Quinn’s austerity: that she considered baked beans a tremendous luxury for lunch. In her outward behaviour Edel was the most natural of people. She would eat what was put before her, within certain limits. The things which could be acts of self-denial were so guarded from public attention that only a close observer would be led to comment on them. In which case she would insist that it was a matter of liking and not of deprivation. Again I say: it was impossible to diagnose her.

She did not talk much. In a group it was not Edel’s voice which was heard. When this is pointed out to those who knew her well, they are at first incredulous, so much did she make her presence felt in any company. She was not conspicuously silent. She seemed to play her part in a conversation while at the same time it was others who were doing the major part of the talking. And very definitely there was an atmosphere of grace and peace about her which softened people. The note of any group where she was would be that of good humour and harmony.

HER LOVE OF FUN

At the risk of startling some, I must quote one incident concerning her which drastically shows that outstanding holiness is no bird of a feather with melancholy, but can in fact descend into unrestrained prankery. Mention has been made of the lastminute postponement of the sailing of the “Llangibby Castle.” By reason of business in Dublin, two of the party who had come to London could not wait over. So the interesting feature obtained of Edel seeing them off instead of their seeing her off. This set her and the other girls plotting and scheming. When Euston Station was reached, we found that the compartment in which the pair (lady and gentleman) were booked to travel, was decorated with wedding favours on a scale which would never be seen in the case of a genuine wedding. The train was crowded so that alternative accommodation was not available and the victims had to submit to the outrage. The lady pretended to enjoy the situation. Perhaps she did! But the gentleman was unutterably embarrassed. He sought to cloak this by vowing his indifference in regard to his own plight and vehemently protesting his sympathy for his companion. Then the whistle went. All the girls produced packets of confetti and simply deluged the pair. Imagine for yourself that journey to Holyhead.

While those who were left behind were laughing over the business, the porters arrived on the scene with brushes, none too pleased with the task of sweeping up, and voicing their feelings. They explained that usually they had one wedding party but this night they had three, one at each end of the train, and one in the middle. Ours was the one in the middle! And the porters said it was the noisiest!

That leaning towards fun was typical of Edel. It was somewhat suppressed by certain types of company or by hard work, but it was always in her and must be borne in mind if a true perspective is to be gained of her.

There is the tale of the cow which a convent had asked her to bring to the next village. The cow was none too willing to go, with the result that the whole population had to be mobilised to chase it. It was finally captured, tied to a plank, put in the back of the van, and delivered to its destination. There Edel got into her discussion with the missionary about starting the Legion. When he learned all that this entailed, he cried out in mock dismay: “Why had that cow got to come to this place?” Those who knew Edel will have no trouble picturing to themselves her face all alight with its typical expression of humour, as she explained: “It was not the cow brought me, Father. It was I who brought the cow.”

TESTIMONY TO HER HOLINESS

And now to turn from happy to grave, from lively to severe. I had the pleasure of listening in to the questioning of her family by Bishop Suenens. It was a stirring experience. At an early point he asked what was her dominant characteristic as a young child. Without taking even a moment to reflect, her mother answered: “Her unselfishness.” And at once the others chimed in with their comment: “Yes, Edel was completely unselfish.” Then the question came: “At what age did that develop in her?” Her mother said: “It was always in her from the time she was a baby.” Which produced from us the objection: “But that could not be. Babies are at best selfish little animals and they have to learn the better things from the grownup people!” “No, No, No!”-almost indignantly: they had never seen a sign of selfishness in her. And that incredible assertion was adhered to.

That testimony is found recurring in the documents which are before us. The phrase “the most unselfish person I ever met” is often repeated. The Carmelites and other Orders in Africa speak of her comings to them as being “angels’ visits,” leaving an overwhelming impression. This means that eminently holy people regarded it as a spiritual favour to come in contact with her-an astounding valuation to make of anyone! Everybody who had such a visit from her talks about it.

She had no enemies. She had no critics, which is an amazing thing, because she had to be unyielding. She had to set up the authentic Legion of Mary, not a watered-down product, and she was going to do it. In her unutterably sweet, gentle fashion, she was inflexible where she had to be firm.

But perhaps it goes too far to say she had no critics. The note of criticism has been lightly sounded: to the effect that she should have been in a sanatorium instead of wandering widely and possibly conveying infection! Apply to this the fact, already voiced, that considerateness was her first characteristic. Somewhere in her mind she squared all these things, one with another, and found justification for her action. It is profoundly significant that no case of infection has ever been alleged against her, although it might be expected that she would be blamed for everything of the sort which would occur along her line of march.

Before she went to Africa, she was a great beauty. It is a pity, a sort of tragedy, that her true likeness has not been put on record. The photograph which appears on the cover of her Life is so inadequate as to be almost a travesty. For one thing, nobody ever saw her so grave looking as that picture represents her. Perhaps it would be too much to say that she was always smiling, but definitely there was always the suggestion of a smile, a brightness, a radiation of benevolence. Looking out through her lovely features, and animating them, was a spiritual quality which could not be captured by a camera or anything else. For it was the projection of her soul itself.

Her charm of manner was supreme, but it went far deeper than the surface. There was nothing of the artificial in her. She attracted people very strongly. In trying to analyse this fact, one is thrown back on that suggestion which Chesterton makes about St. Francis of Assisi: that the secret of the Saint’s power lay in the conviction which people gained that he was really interested in each one of them. I would say that anyone who spoke with Edel Quinn ended up with that same idea. As a consequence they loved her and wanted to do what she asked of them. Originally she must have been physically strong, because she came of a family that was strong. One sister was a champion swimmer, third in Ireland in the national championship, and a member of the Irish team against England. Another sister was in the same category, almost as good. Another sister played provincial hockey for Leinster.

And now a final word. There is no use reading this little account of Edel Quinn and leaving matters so. For what is here contained is but the merest sketch, the standard Life by Mgr. Suenens must be read. It is a memorable document, worthy of its subject. You will rise up from the reading of it with thoughts that will not fade. It will give you a new aspect on holiness. It will make it evident that great holiness is not inhuman, unattainable or unattractive. There is nobody, whosoever it be, who will not derive benefit from reading about her.

Most biographies colour their subjects a little. Possibly this is inevitable, Readers want to be edified, not burdened by a recital of weaknesses. Lest one might expect to find that process at work in the story of Edel Quinn, it is important to state that there is not a word of exaggeration in it. One Bishop from the territory has made representations to the opposite effect, i.e. that Edel is insufficiently portrayed!

Everyone owes it to his own soul to read the book and seek to learn the lesson it affords: How, out of her physical wreckage and her short life, Edel Quinn fashioned an achievement which can rank with any of the epics of the past, but which is bigger than common history for it helped to build the Catholic Church.

Justly of her could Homer’s words be sung: “Short is my tale, but deathless my renown.”

Nihil Obstat:

JOSEPH P. NEWTH, C.C., Censor Theol. Deput.

Imprimi Potest:

@ IOANNES CAROLUS, Archiep. Dublinen,

Hiberniae Primas.

Dublini, die 22 Feb., 1960.

In Obedience to the Decrees of Pope Urban VIII, the author declares that all that is written in this booklet has no other authority or credit than such as is grounded on human evidence. Hence, no expression or statement is intended to assume or forestall the decision of the Church.

********

Escaping Purgatory

REV. A. GITS, S.J

INDEX

Don’t take it for granted that you MUST suffer the pains of Purgatory.

THE ORDINARY CATHOLIC may legitimately hope to pass straight from earth to Heaven without experiencing them. But on what is this hope founded?

Father Gits answers the question in this booklet.

LET us suppose for the sake of argument that you knew for certain that Our Lord in His kindness would take you at your death into Heaven without any Purgatory, would you then love Him more and serve Him better; would you feel grateful? Suppose that Our Lord were to say to you: “Dear Child, I will count all the sufferings of your life and especially the pains of your death as being your Purgatory and you shall come straight from this valley of tears into eternal joy without any Purgatory,” would your heart rejoice and would you love Him more in this life or, on the contrary, would you say to yourself: “Now I can have a good time. I need not struggle to lead a good life in future”?

If you were so ungrateful to God as to love Him less because He loves you more, then this book is not intended for you. If, however, you think you would love Him better and serve Him with a more joyful heart, then read on in God’s name.

THINK WELL OF GOD

We ought to think good and generous thoughts of God. In reality He loves us so much that He thinks there is nothing too good for us His children. There is no limit to His love, for it is an Infinite love. The real trouble is that we do not think well enough of God’s kindness. The fogs of ancient heresies still blind our eyes.

Take for example the question of our Purgatory after death. There are many good Catholics who depress themselves by thinking that they will be lucky indeed if they do manage to arrive in Purgatory at all. They seem to serve God from a motive of fear alone. Their hearts are frozen. “No one,” they say, “but the greatest saint can hope to escape the cleansing pains of Purgatory. The Holy Oils are useful to comfort me at the hour of death and may perhaps shorten my sufferings in the next world, but indeed I shall consider myself lucky to escape Hell and to attain to Purgatory.” It all sounds very pessimistic. Is this the true Catholic spirit? In the long history of God’s Church there is the true Catholic spirit handed down from generation to generation in the very heart of the faithful, a sort of instinct echoing the teaching of our holy Mother the Church. It comes straight from the Heart of Christ, and like a golden thread it weaves its way down the years of history, but it is sometimes dimmed by the dust of the world. Protestantism is dying and Jansenism is dead, but the fogs raised by these cruel heresies have dimmed the brightness of the golden thread of Catholic tradition concerning Purgatory and the wonderful “effects of Extreme Unction.

Catholic Tradition

Here are a few quotations from saints and theologians which will help towards a knowledge of the true Catholic tradition from the earliest times:—St. Cyprian, 3rd century:”Black should not be worn to mourn for our dead, for they are already robed in white.” (De Mortalitate c. 20.)

An Ancient Penitential, 9th century: “It is written that the soul of one who has received this rite (Extreme Unction) is as pure as the soul of a child that dies immediately after Baptism.” (Migne, 89, 416.)

St. Albert the Great, 13th century:”Extreme Unction leads to immediate glory because it takes away the remains of sin. Its chief purpose is the cleansing away of all those results of sin which hinder the passing of the soul to rest.” (IV. dist. 23.)

St. Thomas Aquinas, 13th century: “This sacrament (Extreme Unction) prepares a man for immediate glory so that nothing may remain in him which could hinder the soul from receiving its reward of glory at its departure from the body.” (c.g. IV. 73.)

Peter Paludanus, 14th century: “A man is anointed for two reasons, first that he may fight unto final victory and second that conquering and purified he may enter into Heaven without any Purgatory.” (Sentences q. 4.)

Catechism of the Council of Trent, 16th century: “The Sacred Unction delivers the soul from the weakness and sickness of sin and from all the other remains of sin.” (II. 6. 14.)

Suarez, 17th century: “It is quite right to count the punishment due to sin as being part of the remains of sin. If this sacrament (Extreme Unction) is not wilfully hindered it takes away every evil which could prevent or postpone the entrance into glory.” (Disp. 41. I. 17.)

Peter Arcudios (a Greek theologian), 17th century: “Extreme Unction is called the oil of regeneration because the sick man departs as pure as if he were born anew, since by it are taken away the remains of sin.” (De Concordia V.)

Father Kern, a Jesuit theologian, writing in the year 1907, sums up the whole question in these words:-”Extreme Unction is the perfect healing of the soul with a view to its immediate entrance into glory. Since our most loving Lord instituted this sacrament in order that the faithful might be preserved not only from Hell but also from Purgatory it would not be kind to think that it only obtains its effects in rare cases. Such an opinion would attribute to Our Lord a line of action quite unsuited to His loving Heart. Who can believe that He gave us a medicine as the price of His precious blood in order to bestow perfect health to the soul of a dying person so that he may enter at once into Heaven and yet at the same time imparted so little power to this medicine that only a few chosen souls will go straight to Heaven and the rest cannot hope to be preserved from Purgatory even though they do their best to receive the sacrament worthily?”

THE GOOD THIEF

There is no doubt that Our Lord has the power of cancelling all our sins and all punishment due to them if we will let Him do so. “All power is given to Me on earth and in Heaven,” He said, just before He bestowed upon His Apostles the power to forgive sins in His Name. On Calvary the Good thief dying on his cross laden with sins turned to Jesus and said: “Lord, remember me when Thou comest .into Thy kingdom.” Jesus was waiting for that appeal. As swift as a flash of lightening came the response: “This day thou shalt be with Me in Paradise.” All the sinners of the world are represented by that thief. He was near to Christ crucified and so is every sinner who attends at Holy Mass. He was dying close to Christ and so is every dying sinner who receives the sacraments. The Good Thief did not apparently make a very fervent prayer, but he meant what he said: “Remember me, Lord.” Poor dying sinners cannot be expected to be very fervent; they are too busy suffering and dying, but at least they can say: “My Jesus, mercy.” Our Lord’s sufferings on the Cross are infinite in merit and are amply sufficient to take away all the sins of the world and all punishment due to them. Our Lord, then, can and will do this by means of the sacraments if the poor sinner will let Him do so.

Arcudios speaks of Extreme Unction as being a regeneration (a new birth), the complete purification of the soul. St. Thomas Aquinas makes the matter still clearer when he remarks: “. . . . so that nothing may remain which could hinder the soulfrom receiving its reward of glory at its departure from the body.” God in His kindness is eager to forgive the sinner. To obtain this mercy the sinner must, of course, repent of every sin that he has ever committed. This does not mean that he must remember all the sins that he has ever committed. God does not ask impossibilities. Nor does it mean that he must feel intense fervour such as the saints have felt. Again, God does not ask impossibilities of a poor sinner, but He does ask for confidence and humility. If a dying man receives the holy oils with contrition for all his sins there is no doubt that all his sins are wiped Out together with all punishment due to them, provided that he receives the sacrament of mercy with due preparation and humility.

The only difficulty in the way of God’s kindness might be in the sinner himself. Can he after a lifetime of sin really and sincerely possess a universal repentance for sin, distracted as he is by the fears, suffering and loneliness of death? Alone and unaided the sinner cannot do anything. Now God knows this very well and that is precisely why He has given us a special sacrament to meet the difficulty, the sacrament of Holy Oils (Extreme Unction). The Church teaches us that this sacrament “washes away the remains of sin, completes the expiation of sin, rouses the soul to a great confidence in God’s mercy, enables the sinner to resist the temptations of the devil more easily and even restores the health of the body if such be good for the soul” (Council of Trent). The true Christian tradition teaches that this sacrament is “the completion of penance,” as the Council of Trent calls it. All that is required on the part of the sinner is a willingness to accept it as such. “If a man takes medicine,” says the great Spanish theologian, Suarez, “he shows a desire to get rid of his sickness: in the same manner if a sinner desires Extreme Unction he also desires to get rid of his sins” (Disp. 12. I. 9).

The poor sufferer on his death bed may be capable of very little spiritual effort. Perhaps he can only gasp the prayer: “My Jesus, mercy,” or the words of the Good Thief: “Lord, remember me.” Jesus understands full well and by means of the sacrament of Holy Oils He comes to the rescue and completes the work of expiation and frees the soul “from all the remains of sin,” All that He asks is a good will on the part of the sinner, the good will of the Good Thief.

JUSTICE AND MERCY

Does it not seem too wonderful that a thief should go straight to Heaven? Does it not seem too wonderful that a lifetime of sin should be set straight by a few minutes of suffering and a gasping plea for mercy? What of God’s justice? Justice is indeed vindicated because the merits of Christ’s sufferings are infinite and they have been applied to this soul which accepted Christ’s sacraments added to his little meed of suffering. “Justice and mercy have kissed.” “The mercy of the Lord is above all His works.” What a triumph for the Blood of Christ that a poor sinner should enter Heaven immediately after death!. We must not be scandalized at God’s mercy. A mother would do as much for her dying child if she could. Our Lord Himself speaks in this sense: “If you, then, being evil know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father from Heaven give the good Spirit to them that ask Him.” The Holy Spirit, the Third Person of the Blessed Trinity, comes to the dying man and stirs up the good spirit of repentance in order to remove all obstacles to the Divine work of Christ’s Passion and thus the sacrament of Extreme Unction can have its full effects. Let us not, then, begrudge God the glory that comes from His Infinite Mercy.

It will now be useful to reply to some of the common objections that may be urged against what has been said so far; but before considering these questions the reader is asked to turn back to the quotations (pp. 4 and 5). Read again what has been said by saints and theologians of all ages concerning Extreme Unction in order to keep a clear picture in the mind of the genuine Catholic tradition. This will help considerably to estimate objections at their true value.

I HAVE ALWAYS UNDERSTOOD THAT ONLY GREAT SAINTS CAN HOPE TO ESCAPE PURGATORY. HOW DID THIS IDEA ARISE?

In the 16th century the Protestant. rebels against the Church began to teach that Masses and prayers for the dead are useless and that there is no Purgatory. To meet this cruel heresy Catholic preachers and writers began to speak strongly about Purgatory and its necessity. In the confusion of controversy the merciful effects of the sacrament of Extreme Unction were neglected and even forgotten. Men spoke much of God’s justice and less of His mercy. In order to show the necessity of Purgatory some began to maintain that very few would escape its cleansing flames. Some went so far as to deny that Extreme Unction could remove the temporal punishment due to sin. This kind of teaching had never been heard before the rise of Protestantism. About the same time there arose in the Church a school of writers and teachers called Jansenists, who showed great harshness towards sinners, and under the excuse of greater sanctity kept them away from the sacraments. The Church has long ago condemned this heresy, but its effects are still felt amongst Catholics, who too easily take a gloomy view of God’s mercy.

The result has been that some good people cannot believe their ears and are even shocked when they hear of God’s wonderful kindness to His children in such matters as the sacrament of Extreme Unction. They are suffering from the fogs of past heresies. For many long years the spirit of Jansenism kept good Catholics from frequent Communion and even from frequent Confession. There are still a certain number who fear Extreme Unction as though it were a sentence of death, whereas in reality it is God’s medicine to restore perfect health to the soul and (if God wills) to the body too.

IF EXTREME UNCTION CAN TAKE AWAY OUR PURGATORY, WHY DOES THE CHURCH INSIST SO MUCH ON MASSES FOR THE DEAD, EVEN FOR HOLY PERSONS?

The Church, like a good mother, is pathetically eager to have Requiem Masses for her dead children. She encourages this pious duty in every possible way and for all her children. She seems determined to heap favours upon them to make sure that all will be well when she hands her children over the chasm of death into the safe-keeping of God.

There are two very good reasons for these many Requiems. In the first place there is always a chance that in spite of the powerful graces of Extreme Unction and in spite of the graces that come from suffering, there may still be some malice of the will in the dying sinner, some venial sin, perhaps, of which he has not repented. In that case the poor soul would need to be purified in Purgatory, which is the hospital of the soul, Hence there would be urgent need of the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass.

In the second place let us suppose that the powerful grace of God and the loneliness and pain of dying has brought about a complete and sincere act of contrition; then the soul will go immediately to Heaven fortified by the sacraments. Yet the Church still insists on the Requiem Masses. She knows that the Sacrifice of the Mass will plead with God for the multitudes who die without priest or sacraments or who are neglected by their own relatives. This is shown by the fact that the prayers said by the priest during Mass are worded almost entirely to include ALL the souls of the faithful departed. What a joy it must be for those who are safe in Heaven to know that the Mass is being offered for their brethren in Purgatory! That is one aspect of the Communion of Saints. This perhaps explains the curious fact that the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass is more frequently offered on behalf of fervent Catholics and less frequently or not at all for those who need it most, the careless Catholics, the pagans, the heretics. It is God’s wonderful way of making the good come to the rescue of their less favoured brethren. This is a partial explanation of frequent Masses offered for a child of seven years of age who has died perhaps still unsullied by wilful sin.

Nevertheless this explanation is far from complete. There is another reason which concerns the spiritual good of the dead person; for after all he is the one chiefly concerned. Let us suppose that this child of seven years of age, still untouched by wilful sin, has gone immediately to Heaven in its Baptismal innocence. Is there still a good reason for offering the Holy Sacrifice for this child’s spiritual welfare? Yes, indeed; for the dying saint as well as the dying sinner can be helped not only by Masses that have been offered but also by those that will be offered. Even though a dying child of seven may still be free from sin he needs to be shielded from the attacks of Satan in his last moments. God in His goodness can help this dying child by means of the many Masses which are offered both before and after death. Does then our holy Mother the Church in her many requiems pray God to grant a happy death to those who are already dead? The answer will be discovered by a careful reading of the words of the Requiem Masses in the missal. Have you noticed that all the prayers in the Holy Sacrifice are offered that the dead “may escape punishment,” may “enter into glory,” may “escape the dangers of death and the snares of the Evil One,” may have “a favourable judgment,” may “enter into peace and rest,” may enjoy the company of the Blessed,” in other words the prayers. are for a happy death. Thus there is need” of the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass even in the case of those who go straight to Heaven by the help of the sacraments; for the Mass is the treasure house of the sacraments.

The Church surrounds the dying sinner with countless Masses said before and after his death. Time is nothing with God. Can He not, if He wishes, help a poor dying child now because of some future offering of the Mass? This curious disregard of time is often seen in spiritual affairs. For example, our love for Jesus NOW consoles His suffering Heart in the Garden of Agony long ago (as Pius XII tells us in his encyclical on Reparation).

Here is another example of this disregard of time: A man who has fallen into serious sin may win back the friendship of God by an act of perfect contrition on condition that he resolves to go to confession. He is making use of the grace of God by virtue of a future sacrament, at least in his intention.* Christ Himself dying on the Cross put aside the ordinary *Saltem In Voto (Trent). laws of time by atoning for the sins of the world, past, present and future. In the same way the Sacrifice of the Mass pleads with God to deliver us from all evils, “past, present and to come.” Hence the Masses to be offered in the future can benefit a saint or a sinner dying at the present moment and win for him the grace of a happy death.

There are therefore many good reasons which explain the motherly anxiety of the Church urging that many Masses should be offered for the dead even though they have been fortified with the sacraments.

I SHOULD LIKE TO ACCEPT THIS CONSOLING TEACHING ABOUT EXTREME UNCTION, BUT THERE ARE SO MANY STORIES ABOUT THE REVELATIONS OF HOLY PERSONS CONCERNING PURGATORY THAT I FEEL CONFUSED IN MIND

The answer to this difficulty is to be found in the writings of Pope Benedict XIV, who teaches us that we should reject any so-called vision or revelation which opposes the true Catholic tradition. He says that even saints can be mistaken in their revelations sometimes; he adds that a certain saint is said to have believed that she received a revelation telling her that our Blessed Lady was not free from original sin. This was in the middle ages, long before the definition of the doctrine of the Immaculate Conception, but it is an example of a saint being mistaken. The real test of truth is not the private revelations of holy people but the teachings of the Church. Pious writers are sometimes too fond of quoting these so-called revelations. Father Faber, in his valuable book, All for Jesus, devotes five pages to the revelations of a certain Sister Frances of Pampeluna, which give the impression that very few souls can escape Purgatory. There are a great number of such stories. They seem to have begun their appearance about the time of the Jansenist heresy, as though they were influenced by the ideas of the time. Before that time (says Father Cappello of the Gregorian University) the private revelations were in the opposite direction. One holy person believed that she had received a revelation to the effect that the majority of Catholics went straight to Heaven.

It would of course be unwise to despise all private revelations; for God in His goodness can and does speak to His saints in visions and revelations, but at the same time it is also true that the Evil One can transform himself into an angel of light and deceive even the elect. No one, therefore, ought to be upset if he hears stories about so-called revelations which contradict the agelong traditions of the Fathers. “Test the spirits and see whether they be of God,” says Holy Writ. Pope Benedict XIV warns us to be very cautious in this matter and to follow the guidance of the Church. We should rather listen to the teachings of Catholic tradition than to private revelations. It is true that the Church has in some cases approved of the visions of certain saints and has even established feasts to honour them. St. Bernadette and St. Margaret Mary are famous examples. Here the Church does all she can to encourage the devotion of the faithful, but she has never given her approval of those many “revelations” concerning the number of those who go to Purgatory and the length of their purgatory and so forth. It is far better to reject such stories as unreliable, even though they are related in books.

NEVERTHELESS I STILL FEEL THAT ONLY SAINTS CAN GO STRAIGHT TO HEAVEN, AND I AM NOT A SAINT

“Being a saint” is not the same thing as being without sin . A baptized person who is an idiot from birth is spoken of as one of God’s “innocents.” He is sinless but is probably not a “saint.” Nevertheless at death he will go straight to Heaven because he is sinless. Sanctity is something positive. In this sense a soul in Purgatory may possess greater sanctity than a sinless baby.

The whole question of your Purgatory turns upon your sinlessness at the hour of death, and your having made due satisfaction for sins of the past. If you have been freed (1) from all guilt of sin and (2) from all the debt of punishment at the hour of death, nothing can prevent your immediate “entrance into glory.”

Freedom from Sin : Our Lord will certainly give you this freedom if you are sincerely sorry for all your sins. He desires to take you to Himself at death without any Purgatory, and if you also desire that, all will be well. It must not be thought that this complete contrition is very difficult for those who practise it during life. Nor should it be forgotten that to mak e an act of contrition we need the grace of God. Every time you make an act of sorrow for all your sins you are preparing for the final act of sorrow on your deathbed. Every time you go to Confession you are making yourself more ready for that wonderful sacrament of Extreme Unction which the Church calls “completion of Penance.”

During the air-raids in the last war a Catholic woman in a bomb shelter was so terrified at the explosions in the streets round about that she suddenly dropped on to her knees and cried out fromthe bottom of her heart :”O my God, I am sorry for all the sins I have ever committed in the whole of my life.” A poor Protestant woman hearing this came beside her, knelt down and said timidly: “ME, too, God.” The approach of death had aroused in these two hearts an act of complete contrition. Similarly the fears and pains of the deathbed are a mercy from God inducing us to cry to Him in our helplessness: “ME, too, God.” This contrition can remove all obstacles to God’s mercy, which is poured into our souls by the sacraments, making us completely sinless. It was for this that Christ died. Such a work is not difficult for God.

Freedom from Punishment: Why should you not be freed from all punishment? Is that too difficult for God to accomplish? The crossesyou bear during life are a penance for sin. “The whole of a Christian life is an act of Penance completed by Extreme Unction,” says the Council of Trent. In God’s plan, therefore, temporal punishment should end with this life. Listen to the words of a saintly Benedictine priest who died in the 16th century: “No exercise can be more useful at the hour of death than to resign oneself absolutely to the Divine Will, humbly, lovingly and fully trusting in the mercy and goodness of God. This is certain: that anyone who goes forth from this world in a spirit of true and perfect resignation will fly immediately to the Kingdom of Heaven” (Blosius).

You might still object that God is so holy that even if you were to do penance for a hundred years you could not make proper reparation for sin. That is true, but remember that our little crosses united with Christ’s sufferings and penance are of infinite value, i.e., they are sufficient to make reparation for all the sins of the world. Therefore, take courage. It is not difficult to go straight to Heaven, for Christ has all power in Heaven and on earth. All that is needed is a good will and an unshakeable confidence in the Sacred Heart of Jesus, Who is waiting to welcome you into Heaven.

This aspect of Extreme Unction is not something new. As we have: shown, it was the ordinary tradition of the Church in the past, but. has been somewhat dimmed by the dust raised in the religious quarrels of the Protestant revolt and the Jansenist heresy. Now that these quarrels areburied in the past it is high time that God’s children should begin to have a nobler idea of God’s kindness. Teach others to think well of God’s mercy and then they will serve Him with greater joy rather than with craven fear. Instead of dreading Extreme Unction they will rejoice to receive this sacrament (1) because this sacrament brings peace to the mind and soul and pays the debt of temporal punishment if received in good dispositions and (2) because this sacrament of Extreme Unction is not a “death warrant,” to be put off as long as possible, but on the contrary is God’s medicine which often restores the health of the body.

No one would hesitate to call a doctor to a person dangerously ill for fear of alarming the patient. No one should hesitate to call a priest in time of sickness for he is God’s doctor bringing God’s healing oils. If you will read through the prayers said by the priest when he anoints the sick with these blessed oils you will find that there is no mention of death. All the prayers ask God to bring the sufferer back to health so that “he may have strength to take up his former duties, through Christ Our Lord. Amen.” (See the end of this book.)

And if God wishes to take the sufferer home to Heaven He will give him perfect health and freedom from all suffering in the next life. It is therefore cruel to put off calling the priest until the last moment with the terrible risk to the patient of dying without the sacraments and thus perhaps of suffering a long Purgatory.

Note: The custom of placing Mass cards instead of funeral wreaths upon the coffin is very pleasing in the eyes of God. Speaking of flowers at funerals, St. Augustine says: “Flowers are pleasing to the living but useless to the dead.” Hence the Church does not encourage the use of flowers in Catholic funerals except in the case of baptized infants. A Mass card is a token that the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass will be offered for the dead person. This honours God, consoles the Catholic relatives and helps the dead.

THE PRAYERS OF EXTREME UNCTION

After blessing the room and hearing the sick person’s confession, the priest extends his hand and prays that the powers of evil may be driven away through the prayers of the saints. He then anoints the sick person with the holy oil, saying at the same time these words:- “By this holy oil and His sweet mercy may the Lord forgive whatever sins thou hast committed by sight, (hearing), (speech), etc. Amen.”

After wiping away the oil with cotton wool he prays as follows:—Let us pray: “Lord God Who hast spoken by Thy apostle James, saying: Is any man sick among you? Let him call in the priests of the Church and let them pray over him, anointing him with oil in the name of the Lord, and the prayer of Faith shall save the sick man and the Lord will raise him up and if he be in sins they shall be forgiven him: cure, we beseech Thee, O our Redeemer, by the grace of the Holy Ghost, the ailments of this sick man; heal his wounds and forgive his sins: drive out from him all pains of body and mind and mercifully restore him to full health both inwardly and outwardly, that having recovered by the help of Thy mercy he may once more have strength to take up his former duties. Who with the Father and the Holy Ghost livest and reignest God, world without end. Amen.

“Look down, we beseech Thee, O Lord, upon Thy servant, N., failing from bodily weakness, and refresh the soul which Thou hast created, that being bettered by Thy chastisements he may feel himself saved by Thy healing. Through Christ our Lord. Amen.

“O holy Lord, Father almighty, eternal God, Who by shedding the grace of Thy blessing upon our failing bodies dost preserve by Thy manifold goodness the work of Thy hands; graciously draw near at the invocation of Thy name that having freed Thy servant from sickness and bestowed health upon him Thou mayest raise him up by Thy right hand, strengthen him by Thy might, defend him by Thy power and restore him to Thy holy Church with all desired prosperity. Through Christ our Lord. Amen.”

PRAYER FOR A HAPPY DEATH

Jesus, Mary and Joseph, I give you my heart and my soul. Jesus, Mary and Joseph, assist me in my last agony. Jesus, Mary and Joseph, may I breathe forth my soul in peace with you. Amen. (Seven years indulgence for each time recited.)

Nihil obstat:

WILLIAM M. COLLINS, D.D. Censor Dioc.

Imprimatur:

@ D. MANNIX, D.D., LL.D., Archiepiscopus Melbournensis

********

Eucharist Questions

REV. DR. L. RUMBLE, M.S.C

INDEX

1. IS YOUR BLESSED SACRAMENT STILL A BISCUIT OR A WAFER?

The Blessed Sacrament is the Living Eucharistic Christ and it contains no trace of the substance of bread. The accidental qualities of bread are there, but veiled beneath them the living substance of Christ’s Body and Blood, Soul and Divinity is present, the substance of bread having been converted into the body of Christ at the moment of consecration. We Catholics believe that this change does occur, ‘that it can occur, and that Christ can be in the Sacred Host that has the appearance of a cracker or a wafer. “It is not His body,” is the echo of the ages, the repetition of the Jewish complaint, “This is a hard saying; who can hear it?” John VI, 61. Here then is the boast of fallible human reason. “Christ cannot be in the Host.” “Who can hear it?” He alone who has a right idea of God, of His Truth and Majesty, has a correct estimate of a limited human intelligence. This doctrine is not for the proud. It is for the humble. And unless we become as little children, unless we know ourselves to be what we really are, it is not for us to believe this great mystery.

2. CHRIST BECOMES A PIECE OF BREAD

No. He does not become a piece of bread, nor does He become the appearance of bread. Christ remains Christ, and merely becomes present under the external signs of what was bread prior to the words of consecration. Christ has not been converted into bread, but the bread has been converted into the body of Christ, the external qualities of bread alone remaining. Reason has not a right idea of that against which it would protest. Even when it has a right idea of the doctrine, reason overlooks the fact that it is Almighty God who is the author of this wondrous gift. Arguing from their study of the universe, men urge that it is against the laws of nature, though no one has ever claimed that it is due to the laws of nature. We do not ask the laws of nature to do what they are not supposed to accomplish. In any case these men do not even know all the laws of nature, nor do they know that these laws can go only as far as they themselves desire that they should go. But they certainly cannot say that God is limited by the laws He Himself has established; and it is no created law of nature which is in operation here. It is God’s own immediate work.

3. YOUR DOCTRINE IS BELIEVED ONLY BY FOOLS

It is useless to assert that only fools would believe such a doctrine, and then say that the doctrine is foolish because only fools believe it. Men must prove that those who do believe are fools from other and independent evidence, or else prove the doctrine is wrong itself. As a matter of fact, the assertion that no intellectual man believes in dogma today is a dogma in itself for which those who propound it offer no reason save that they believe it. Few would be prepared to rank a Pasteur, a Manning or a Newman, a Sir Bertram Windle or a Chesterton, or a Martindale, a John Moody or a Kent Stone as fools. St. Thomas Aquinas, whilst treating of the Blessed Sacrament in his Summa Theologica, was so far from suggesting a blind belief that he proposes and solves over 280 possible difficulties which might occur to the human mind, many of them far more profound than any living adversary today could even conceive. He anticipated by 200 years the absurd arguments of the revolutionists of the so-called Reformation, which has turned out to be the world’s deformation.

4. WELL, I CAN’T BELIEVE YOUR DOCTRINE BECAUSE I CANNOT UNDERSTAND IT

If so, then to be logical, besides crying, “Away with the Eucharist,” we should also cry, “Away with the idea of a man being God. Away with Christianity; we do not comprehend it. Away with Hell; we have never seen it. Away with the human soul; we have never touched one. Away with matter and substance; they baffle us. Away with the universe. Away with God; and so on, from degree to degree, from despair to despair, even to the suicide of reason.” Perhaps your credulity leads you to swallow the notion that this world evolved out of an eternal nebula; that man is the product of organic evolution, etc. Let any man publish a theory and you, no doubt, would swallow it hook, line and sinker with whole-hearted adhesion, provided God be not mentioned. Offer to prove it, you reply, “No need. We believe it, it rings true.” Yet, mention God, offer to show the proofs of Christian doctrine-you will not even look at them. Truly, St. Paul was right in his prediction, “They will heap to themselves teachers, having itching ears: and will indeed turn away their hearing from the truth, but will be turned unto fables.” (2 Tim. IV 3–4.)

5. CAN CHRIST BE IN THE HOST?

Yes. Nor is finite human reason the criterion as to what God can or cannot do, when the truth proposed is not against reason, but simply above and beyond its capacity. We know that, if God tells us a truth which human reason could not discover by its own unaided powers, that truth is bound to seem extravagant. The presence of Christ under the appearances of bread is His work and the very soul and bond of the whole architecture of Catholic and Christian doctrine. Human reason could not invent it, nor can reason without revelation prove it. For if this doctrine were a work of reason it might be fully comprehensible to us, but it would be a natural philosophy, not a supernatural religion. Reason alone tells us that the Living Christ could be in the Host, did God so desire.

6. DO YOU BELIEVE THE CONSECRATED HOST TO BE THE BODY OF CHRIST BECAUSE OF ANY SIGNS IN THE HOST ITSELF?

We do not believe in Blessed Sacrament because we can realize or visualize the full truth. Even a priest could not distinguish a consecrated Host from an unconsecrated wafer unless he were told which of the two had been consecrated. The consecrated Host looks like bread, it tastes like bread, it nourishes like bread. There is no difference for priest and layman. At the altar the priest has no experience at all of a change. Yet, after consecration, there is no substance of bread remaining. The Body, Blood, Soul and Divinity of Christ are present. Human reason alone tells us three things:

(1) The God who created the universe with a mere act of His will is infinitely powerful, and not to be limited by the degrees of a created finite intelligence.

(2) God is Truth Itself, and could not possibly tell us a lie.

(3) The Gospels are true history. No documents have had such a thorough sifting. They have survived a deeper critical study, a more searching analysis than any other writings have had to undergo, and that not only by men of good will, but by the very enemies of Christianity.

These three things are clear to our human reason. Unless a man receives additional light from God he will be unable to proceed, to grasp the full significance of the truths contained in the Gospels. That additional light is given by the Church that gave the Bible to the world. As reason told us three things, reason and Faith combined also tell us three things:

(1) The historical Person described in the Gospel, and known as Jesus Christ, is Almighty God, with all divine attributes.

(2) This Christ taught the doctrine of the Blessed Sacrament as clearly as it is possible to state it.

(3) He also established an infallible Church, which guarantees to maintain the judgment of reason and Faith in accordance with God’s knowledge of this matter.

We, therefore, believe with absolute certainty that Christ is really present in the Sacred Host.

7. WHAT HAVE THE SCRIPTURES TO DO WITH YOUR BELIEF IN THE REAL PRESENCE?

They have very much to do with it. When we read through the Old Testament; when we see there how God treated with the Jews; when we study the account there given of the Tree of Life refreshing our first parents in Paradise; when we read of the bread and wine offered to God, and then given as food to the soldiers of Abraham by the High Priest Melchisedech; of the Paschal Lamb sacrificed to God and eaten by His chosen people; of the manna in the desert, prepared not by man but by angels; of the miraculous food in the strength of which Elias walked for forty days even to the Mountains of God; tears come into our eyes, our hearts ache, and a deep longing comes upon us, taking possession of our whole being. We wonder what great gift from God all these wonders prefigure and foretell. If God intended to give us merely ordinary bread, then He would be giving us less than He gave to the Jews, and it is impossible that the religion of Christ, for which the ancient religion was but a preparation, should not be more perfect; should not infinitely transcend the forerunner, even as Christ Himself infinitely transcended the last prophet of the Old Law, St. John the Baptist, who said, “I must decrease, and He must increase.” John III, 30. Then if the Jews had the tables of the law in their Tabernacle, surrounded by the visible glory of God, we may half-expect to have the very author of the law in our Tabernacle, the glory of God veiled out of compassion because too great for man to see and live. If the Jews received a divine and very miraculous food to eat during their journey through the desert, we, too, may expect a divine and miraculous food to eat during our journey through the desert of this life-a food prepared not by angels but by Christ Our Lord, under some form within our reach. That form within our reach is fully spoken of in the sixth chapter of St. John in both the Protestant and Catholic versions of the New Testament.

8. DO YOU BELIEVE IN THE LITERAL INTERPRETATION OF THE SIXTH CHAPTER OF ST. JOHN?

Yes. There is no other possible interpretation than the literal interpretation. We agree with Luther who defended the literal interpretation against Zwingli, Carlstadt, and Oecolampadius, though with usual ill logic, he warred against the idea of the Mass. He confessed that he was tempted to deny the Real Presence in order “to give a great smack in the face of Popery,” but the Scriptures and all antiquity were too overwhelming in its favour. “I am caught,” he wrote, “I cannot escape, the text is too forcible.”

9. EXPLAIN THE SIXTH CHAPTER OF ST. JOHN

Jesus in the promise of the Eucharist points out the superiority of the bread which He is about to give them over the manna rained down from Heaven, saying, “And the bread that I will give, is My Flesh, for the life of the world.” John VI, 52. The Jews understood Christ to be speaking literally and not figuratively, for they say among themselves, “How can this man give us His Flesh to eat?” John VI, 53. If Christ were talking in a figure of speech, in a metaphor, it would have been His duty not only as the Son of God, but as a teacher, to correct the Jews and say to them, “You take a wrong meaning to My words. You think that I am referring to My Flesh-I know you are a civilized people and that you are not cannibals-I am only speaking of a souvenir, a symbol, a token. See that multitude going away from Me? They are leaving Me because they think I meant it. I came to save them, to win them. I want them. Do you think I would let them go like that if I did not mean it? If I could unsay it, do you not realize that I would call them back and explain? Ah, no. I meant it so much that you, too, must go, or accept it.” The Jews would have remained had they believed that He meant no more than a symbol or token. Christ knew that they would revolt at the thought of eating His very flesh, but He let them go with the idea which would become a fundamental doctrine of His Church. Why did He not correct these first Protectors of the Christian World?

10. WHAT DOES THE DOUBLE EXPLETIVE, “AMEN, AMEN” INDICATE?

It indicates importance. The double expletive of Hebrew when found, would in our tongue mean, Now listen, I am about to announce the most important point of this discourse.” Hence with emphasis does Christ say, “Amen, Amen, I say unto you; except you eat the Flesh of the Son of Man and drink His Blood you shall not have life in you.” John VI, 54. Instead of watering down His statement Christ drives home what He is proclaiming to His audience, “He that eateth My Flesh, and drinketh My Blood, hath everlasting life; and I will raise him up on the last day. For My Flesh is meat indeed, and My Blood is drink indeed. He that eateth My Flesh, and drinketh My Blood, abideth in Me, and I in Him.” John VI, and My Blood is drink indeed. He that eateth My Flesh, and drinketh My Blood, abideth in Me, and I in Him.” John VI, 57. Twelve times does Christ tell his audience that “He is the Bread come down from Heaven” and in four consecutive sentences Jesus uses the double phrase “to eat My Flesh and drink My Blood.” Hence His meaning is unmistakably clear. He confirms His power and authority, saying, “As the living Father hath sent Me, and I live by the Father so he that eateth Me, the same also shall live by Me.” 3 John V1, 58. But this doctrine of the Teacher staggered the stiff-necked Jews who began toquit Christ. “Many therefore of His disciples hearing it, said: “This saying is hard, and who can hear it?”‘ John VI, 61. “After this many of His disciples went back; and walked no more with Him.” John V1, 67.

11. CHRIST WAS ONLY TALKING IN THE FORM OF A METAPHOR

A metaphor, to eat one’s flesh meant for the Jews to abuse and calumniate a man, to destroy his character. Do you think that Jesus meant, “He that reviles Me has eternal life”?

12. BUT THE LAST WORDS OF CHRIST SAY, “IT IS THE SPIRIT THAT GIVES LIFE. THE FLESH PROFITETH NOTHING.” JOHN VI, 64

Christ is not speaking of His Body in those last words, but of you. You have not the true spirit of God in you, but you let your earthly and natural reason create foolish obstacles. You judge as the natural and animal man, who, according to St. Paul, does not perceive the things of God. Have true faith, and you will understand even though you do not fully comprehend this wonderful promise of Christ. But if you think that you have everything explained to the satisfaction of your human reason, God Himself will leave you without the truth. He has a strict right to our submission, body, soul, mind and will, and God has sufficiently proved the truth of the Doctrines He has taught by the mere fact of His having uttered them.

13. YOU SPEAK ABOUT THE PROMISE OF THE EUCHARIST. WHERE DOES ITS REALITY TAKE PLACE?

At the Last Supper Christ fulfilled what He had promised in the sixth chapter of St. John. “And while they were at supper, Jesus took bread, and blessed and broke: and gave to His disciples, and said: Take ye and eat. This is My Body. And taking the, chalice He gave thanks, and gave to them, saying: Drink ye all of this for this is My Blood of the New Testament which shall be shed for many unto remission of sins.” Mt. XXVI, 26–28. In these words Christ, therefore, literally fulfills His promise. This is My Body; this is My Blood-what words could be plainer? The Apostles made no mistake in understanding Christ.

14. HOW COULD THE APOSTLES UNDERSTAND CHRIST LITERALLY WHEN HE USES THE VERB “IS”? I HAVE READ THAT IN THE ARAMAIC LANGUAGE THERE IS NO VERB TO EXPRESS THE MEANING “TO REPRESENT,” “TO SIGNIFY.”

The Aramaic language was rich in vocabulary. Scholars deny that charge. Cardinal Wiseman many years ago proved conclusively that in the language spoken by Christ there are at least forty expressions which meant “to signify.”

15. DID THE APOSTLES TEACH JUST WHAT YOU ARE TEACHING?

The Apostles did not merely bless and distribute bread and wine, but they administered what they knew and believed to be the Body and Blood of Jesus Christ under the appearance of bread and wine. If they thought they were distributing merely a symbol or representation or reminder of the Savior’s flesh and blood, then the Catholic practice comes to smash. The Apostles proclaimed that they were giving the Body and Blood of the Savior at His express command. St. Paul in both the Protestant and Catholic text fully answers for the Apostles. St. Paul wrote (eight years after St. Matthew wrote his Gospel) a letter to the Christian converts at Corinth: 1 Cor. X, 16, “The chalice of benediction, which we bless, is it not the communion of the blood of Christ? And the bread, which we break, is it not the partaking of the body of the Lord?” 1 Cor. XI, 23–29, “For I have received of the Lord that which also I delivered unto you, that the Lord Jesus, the same night in which he was betrayed, took bread, And giving thanks, broke, and said: Take ye, and eat: this is my body, which shall be delivered for you: this do ye, as often as you shall drink, for the commemoration of me. For as often as you shall eat this bread, and drink the chalice, you shall shew the death of the Lord, until He come. Therefore whosoever shall eat this bread, or drink the chalice of the Lord unworthily, shall be guilty of the body and of the blood of the Lord. But let a man prove himself: and so let him eat of that bread, and drink of the chalice. For he that eateth and drinketh unworthily, eateth and drinketh judgment to himself, not discerning the body of the Lord.” Here then is fully stated the doctrine of the Apostles and the faith of the Infant Church in the Real Presence of Christ in the Holy Eucharist. Notice the words Guilty of the Body and of the Blood-how could a person be guilty, if he had merely eaten a little bread and drunk a little wine, as a picture or representation or reminder of the Last Supper? No one is guilty of homicide if he merely does violence to the picture or statue of a man without touching the man in person. St. Paul’s words are meaningless without the dogma of the Real Presence.

“Plain and simple reason,” says Cardinal Wiseman, “seems to tell us that the presence of Christ’s Body is necessary for an offence committed against it. A man cannot be “guilty of majesty,’ unless the majesty exists in the object against which his crime is committed. In like manner, an offender against the Blessed Eucharist cannot be described as guilty of Christ’s Body and Blood, if these be not in the Sacrament.”

16. WHAT DID THE EARLY PREACHERS BESIDES THE APOSTLES TEACH ABOUT THE LAST SUPPER?

St. Cyril of Jerusalem in the fourth century says: “As a life-giving Sacrament we possess the sacred Flesh of Christ and His Precious Blood under the appearance of bread and wine. What seems to be bread is not bread, but Christ’s body; what seems to be wine is not wine but Christ’s Blood.” You can get abundant testimony on this belief from many others of the Fathers of the primitive Church.

17 . DOES THE GREEK CHURCH BELIEVE IN THE REAL PRESENCE?

The Greek Church which seceded from the Catholic Church about 1,000 years ago, the present Russian Church, the schismatic Copts, Armenians, Syrians, Chaldeans and in fact all the Oriental sects, still hold fast to the teaching of the Infant Church in the Real Presence of the Body and Blood, Soul and Divinity of our Lord in the Holy Eucharist.

18. DID ALL CHRISTENDOM BELIEVE IN THE LITERAL UNDERSTANDING OF THE SAVIOUR’S WORDS?

Yes. Berengarius was the first to openly attack it in the year 1088, but he retracted before he died. In the sixteenth century it became the hobby of the day to give new and arbitrary interpretations to the Scriptures in accordance with one’s own private whim and fancy. The amount of religious and intellectual chaos brought about by this confusion is seen in the fact that within seventy-five years over 200 different meanings were given to the four simple words of Christ: “This is My Body.” At Ingolstadt in 1077 Christopher Rasperger wrote a whole book entitled, “Two Hundred Interpretations of the words “This is My Body.’” It shows how hard pressed the inventors of new sects were to explain away the real meaning of those four words, which were understood in just one sense for a thousand years and now are not understood by millions.

19. I STILL CANNOT BELIEVE IN YOUR LITERAL INTERPRETATION

Unless the words of Christ are taken in the literal sense and at their face value they become meaningless, incoher ent and worse than that, Christ would be, then, an arch-deceiver. For He certainly taught, allowed, encouraged, and stressed the literal interpretation of His words and the figurative interpretation of the Protestant mind has no basis of plausibility. You must remember that the Jews deserted Christ simply because He meant just what He said, “‘This is My Body.” Such a phrase involves a mystery, but you believe in the Incarnation and the Trinity, which are likewise mysteries but revealed truths far beyond our capacity fully to understand. We do not reject mysteries to the garbage can because we don’t understand them, but we believe them on the authority of the Revealer.

20. CHRIST ALSO SAID, “I AM THE DOOR. I AM THE VINE.”‘ IF YOU SAY BREAD IS HIS BODY THEN HE IS ALSO A DOOR AND ACTUALLY A GRAPEVINE

You resort to any excuse to deny the meaning of Christ. There is no parallel between those two cases. “I am the door,” can have a metaphorical sense. For Christ is like a door, since I go to Heaven through Him; He is like a vine, because all the sap of my spiritual life comes through Him. But the bread is in no way like His Body or His Flesh. Either it changed into His actual Body, or the expression “This is My Body” is nonsense. It is misery that God should have to force a Gift upon you, which you should accept with deep faith, gratitude, and love. But let us turn to St. Paul who knew and spoke with Christ. Have you never read his words, “Whosoever shall eat this bread, or drink the chalice of the Lord unworthily shall be guilty of the Body and of the Blood of the Lord.” Why, in the Catacombs, did the early Christians depict the Blessed Sacrament upon the very walls as a loaf of bread with the sign of a fish above it-the fish which is represented in the Greek language (ixthus) whose letters are the initials for, “Jesus Christ, Son of God, Saviour?” Why did St. Ignatius, in the second century, declare that the Docetae were false Christians, because they “do not receive the Eucharist, not admitting that it is the Flesh of Our Lord Jesus Christ which was tormented for us?” Why, in the fourth century, did St. Ambrose appeal to thc Power of Almighty God for this very remarkable change? “The Lord spoke,” he writes, “and the Heavens were made. See how powerful is the word of Christ. And if it has such power that things begin to be where there was nothing, how much more powerful when something already existing has to be changed. The Body of Christ was not there before consecration, but after consecration, I tell you that the Body of Christ is there.”

21. HOW IS CHRIST PRESENT IN THE BLESSED SACRAMENT?

The Fourth General Council of the Lateran, in 1215, defined that “the Body and Blood of Christ are truly contained in the Sacrament of the Altar by Transubstantiation.” Transubstantiation is a changing across from one substance to another. A transcontinental railroad will take a person from New York to San Francisco but it does not change New York into San Francisco. Take the word “transformation.” A carpenter can transform a log of wood into all kinds of furniture. He gives the wood another form or shape. In Transubstantiation it is a question not of another form or shape, but of another substance. Hydrogen and oxygen are two gaseous substances, but we know that they can be changed into the substance of water. So also, Transubstantiation changes the substance of bread into the Substance of the Body of Christ. When hydrogen and oxygen are changed into water they lose their previous form or gaseous appearance whereas the bread retains its previous appearance, the substance alone being changed. The word “Transubstantiation,” therefore, is used by the Catholic Church to show that the substance of bread, which was present before the consecration, has been changed into the Substance of Our Lord’s Body, although the appearance of bread still remains.

22. YOUR DOCTRINE OF TRANSUBSTANTIATION WAS “INVENTED” DURING THE LATERAN COUNCIL 1215

The Doctrine was always held in the Church, and in 1215 the Lateran Council gave not a new doctrine, but merely the exact word which correctly describes the original and revealed Doctrine of Christ. Not in 1215, but in the year 500 Faustus, Bishop of Rietz, wrote, “Before consecration the substance of bread and wine is present; after consecration, the Body of Christ and the Blood of Christ. Is it anything wonderful that He who could create with a word, should with a word change the things He has created?” The Doctrine, then, existed. But in the eleventh century Berengarius used very ambiguous language when speaking of the Blessed Sacrament which could have had very serious consequences, and in the thirteenth century, perceiving the actual growth of these evil consequences, the Lateran Council insisted upon Transubstantiation as the correct expression to be used.

The doctrine of transubstantiation is certainly contained in the words of St. Ambrose (340–397) when he declares: “Cannot, therefore, the words of Christ, who was able to make something out of nothing, change that which already exists into something which it was not before?. . . . What we effect (by Consecration) is the Body taken from the Virgin.”

St. Augustine (354–430) writes: “That which is seen on the table of the Lord is bread and wine; but this bread and this wine, when the word is added, becomes the Body and Blood of the Logos.”

St. Cyril writes: “As a life-giving Sacrament we possess the sacred Flesh of Christ and His Precious Blood under the appearance of bread and wine. What seems to be wine is not wine, but Christ’s Blood.”

St. Basil (331–379) prays in these words of his liturgy, “Make this bread into the Precious Body of our Lord and God and Redeemer Jesus Christ, and this chalice into the Blood of Our Lord and God and Savior Jesus Christ, which was shed for the life of the world.”

23. IF LUTHER BELIEVED IN THE REAL PRESENCE, THEN HOW DID HE EXPLAIN IT?

Luther always maintained the literal interpretation of the words: “This is My Body; This is My Blood.” In fact he said he was tempted to deny the Real Presence in order “to give a great smack in the face of Popery,” but the teaching of the Bible and all antiquity were too strong in its favor. He explained how Christ was present by using the word “consubstantiation” instead of transubstantiation. He held that the two substances of bread and of the Body were present at one and the same time. Since he admitted no changing of one substance into another then the logical explanation for his theory is the use of the sentence “Here is My Body or This contains My Body” instead of “This is My Body.” Luther’s explanation would place the Body of Christ “with,” “upon,” “alongside,” or “in” the substance of bread or wine. If Protestants believe in the Real Presence there is no other way of explaining the literal meaning of the four words, “This is My Body” than by Transubstantiation. Christ did not say “My Body is in or with this bread.” He said, “This is My Body.” Now it is certainly not His body according to appearances. It must, then be His body according to substance, or in other words, God changes the substance without altering the appearances of bread.

The Council of Lateran in 1215 condemned the Lutheran doctrine of consubstantiation, that the substance of bread and the Body of Christ exist together; the Zwinglian idea of a memorial supper; and the Calvinistic doctrine of a virtual or dynamic presence, whereby the efficacy of Christ’s Body and Blood is communicated from Heaven to those who are predestined to be saved.

24. ARE YOU NOT GUILTY OF CANNIBALISM?

No. Catholics do not believe that they are eating Christ’s human flesh in its natural form. There is a change of substance and nothing else in the Host. The appearance and qualities of bread are not changed at all. Christ gives us His Body in a Divine and supernatural way, not in a natural way, for His Presence is not natural but Sacramental. The Catholic Doctrine does not suppose such folly of eating Christ’s Body in a merely natural sense as we eat ordinary flesh.

25. Was the changing of water into wine at the wedding feast of Cana the same as transubstantiation? When Christ changed the water into wine it was nothing but a kind of transubstantiation. The multiplication of the five barley loaves and two fishes that fed five thousand men, women, and children is a miracle of the same kind as that of transubstantiation.

26. YOUR REAL PRESENCE IDEA IMPLIES A CONTRADICTION IN THAT THE SAME THING IS BOTH BREAD AND NOT BREAD AT THE SAME TIME

You misunderstand our doctrine for the doctrine of Luther. We teach transubstantiation and not consubstantiation. We teach that the substance of bread does not remain after the consecration. What remains are the accidents-the appearances, such as color, size, shape, taste, weight-in short, whatever is apparent to the senses.

27. THE FAMOUS BISHOP BARNES OF BIRMINGHAM PROCLAIMS THAT TRANSUBSTANTIATION WAS OUTMODED BY THE ADVANCE OF MODERN SCIENCE

At the time he once again showed the world how absurd he is the physicists were at work in their laboratories changing one chemical element into an altogether different one. They were exploding the theory of the old school of physics, namely, the laws of the conservation of matter and energy. Sir James Jeans in 1929 declared: “The two fundamental cornerstones of twentieth century physics, the conservation of matter and the conservation of energy, are both abolished.” Modern scientists have already produced one element from another, thereby, giving the lie to Bishop Barnes. If scientists today can effect a kind of transubstantiation of one element into another, who will be so wise and presumptuous like Bishop Barnes and deny that power to Almighty God? If Bishop Barnes still believes in the permanence and immutalibity of the chemical elements (which is now thoroughly disproved) and if he still holds that you can change the form and the appearances of the elements through various combinations, but you can never change them into distinct and immutable elements then we come back to the laws of nature to show that elements do change their nature. If Bishop Barnes ate nothing but bread and wine for a few days he certainly would have to admit that the bread and wine in his stomach was changed into his human flesh and blood by the laws of nature. If God can through the laws of nature change bread and wine into our own flesh and blood, then why all the unwillingness to accept His Promise of the Eucharist?

28. ARE THERE ANY SIGNS IN THE HOST PROVING THAT HE IS BODILY PRESENT?

NO. It is a mystery of faith. All external appearances remain as before consecration, but the substance of bread and the substance of wine are changed into the substance of our Lord’s Body and Blood. The reason why we believe is not in the Host as such, but in God. He has revealed this truth, and we believe because He must know and could not tell an untruth.

29. DID NOT THE JEWS THINK THAT THEY WERE ASKED TO EAT THE VERY BODY OF CHRIST? YET HE REFUTED THEM BY SAYING THAT HIS BODY WOULD ASCEND TO HEAVEN AND THAT THE FLESH PROFITS NOTHING. JN. VI., 63–64

When Christ promised that He would give His very Flesh to eat, the Jews protested because they imagined a natural and cannibalistic eating of Christ’s Body. Christ refuted this notion of the manner in which His Flesh was to be received by saying that He would ascend into Heaven, not leaving His Body in its human form upon earth. But He did not say that they were not to eat His actual Body. He would thus contradict Himself, for a little earlier He had said, “My Flesh is meat indeed and My Blood is drink indeed.” VI., 56. He meant, therefore, “You will not be asked to eat My Flesh in the horrible and natural way you think, for My Body as you see it with your eyes will be gone from this earth. Yet I shall leave My Flesh and Blood in another and supernatural way which your natural and carnal minds cannot understand. The carnal or fleshy judgment profits nothing. I ask you, therefore, to have faith in Me and to trust Me. It is the spirit of faith which will enable you to believe, not your natural judgment.” Then the Gospel goes on to say that many would not believe, and walked no more with Him; just as many today will not believe, and walk no more with the Catholic Church. According to the doctrine of the Catholic Church Christ’s Body is ascended into Heaven. But by its substance, independently of all the laws of space which affect substance through accidental qualities, this body is present in every consecrated Host.

30. WE PROTESTANTS BELIEVE THAT CHRIST’S BODY IS REALLY PRESENT IN THE EUCHARIST, BUT NOT BY TRANSUBSTANTIATION

The majority of Protestants believe that His Body is really absent. Those who do say that they believe in His real Presence yet deny transubstantiation, illogically admit an effect yet deny the only process by which it can truly occur. If there be no transubstantiation on conversion of the substance of bread into the substance of Christ’s Body, then the substance of bread remains after consecration, and it is bread and not the Body of Christ. People make a kind of bogey of transubstantiation as foolishly as a man would do somewhat similarly if he admitted a railway from New York to San Francisco, yet refused to admit that it could be called the transcontinental railway.

31. The Apostles’ Creed, the Athanasian, and the Nicene do not mention transubstantiation. There is no record of such a doctrine until 1564 when Pius IV. put it into his creed. Are we to believe the early Christians, or the doctrine of a thousand years later?

The doctrine is not in the three Creeds you mention. But they do not contain the whole of Christian doctrine. They are partial statements insisting upon certain doctrines against special errors of those times. It is true that Pius IV. included the doctrine in his profession of faith, but you are wrong when you say that there was no mention of the doctrine till then. In 1551, 13 years earlier, the Council of Trent taught the doctrine explicitly. In 1274, 290 years earlier, the 2nd Council of Lyons insisted upon the admission of transubstantiation by the Greeks as a condition of return to the Catholic Church. In 1215, 349 years earlier, the 4th Lateran Council consecrated the word transubstantiation as expressing correctly the Christian doctrine of Christ’s real presence by conversion of the substance of bread into the substance of His Body. In 1079, 500 years earlier, Berengarius declared in his retraction, “I acknowledge that the bread is substantially changed into the substance of Christ’s Body.” Everybody who possessed the true Christian faith, until this year, 1079, believed in the substantial change, and there was no need to insist upon the word, since no one denied the nature of the change. In the fourth century all the great Fathers and writers admitted that by consecration bread was changed into our Lord’s very Body. Ignatius, Bishop of Antioch, who died about 107 A.D., wrote, “Heretics abstain from the Eucharist because they do not confess the Eucharist to be that very Flesh of Jesus Christ which suffered for us.” And that doctrine is all that is expressed by transubstantiation. At the Last Supper Christ said, “This is My Body which is given for you.” Lk. XXII., 19. Now He either gave them His Body or He did not. But He gave them His Body, for we dare not say, “Lord although you say, “This is My Body,’ it is certainly not Your Body.” However it was not His Body according to appearances and visible qualities, and it could have been His Body only according to substance. Therefore, our Lord first thought this doctrine of substantial change.

32. THE ELEMENTS DO NOT CHANGE, FOR THERE IS NO CHEMICAL DIFFERENCE AFTER CONSECRATION

Which elements do not change? In every material thing there are two sets of elements quite distinct-substance and qualities. And no man has ever seen substance; he has seen qualities only. Thus I see the squareness of a block of iron, but it can become round, still remaining iron. I can feel its hardness, though it can become soft in the furnace, the substance being unchanged. If it be black, it can become red; if it be cold, it can become hot; if it be heavy, by great heat I can render it a vapor. The qualities, then, differ from the substance, or we could not change one without changing the other. And if we can change qualities without changing substance, God can certainly change substance without changing qualities. And chemical differences are dependent upon qualities. Granted the permanence of the same accidental qualities the same chemical reactions will be apparent. Father Faber, whilst yet a Protestant, well said, “I am worried about the Roman doctrine because, whatever may be said of the proofs for it, I do not see how any man can disprove it. If they say that the substance changes, but that all appearances remain the same, then they say that something changes of which no man has any experience and yet which reason must postulate as the reality underlying all appearances and separate from them.” When you say that the elements do not change their chemical properties, I simply reply that the elements of external qualities do not change their chemical properties, and that no Catholic has ever imagined that they do. But the substance underlying those external appearances certainly does change. The fact that qualities remain unaltered is a fact of experience; the fact that the substance changes is revealed by God, and cannot be known in any other way. Yet is it not more than sufficiently guaranteed when God says so?

33. WE HAVE ONLY THE WORD OF THE PRIEST FOR THE FACT

No Catholic priest would himself believe it were it not the doctrine of Christ. It would be the height of folly to believe it without solid evidence that Christ had taught it. God created substance and qualities, and we cannot deny to Him perfect control over them and ability to change them at His pleasure. And when Christ says, “This is My Body,” we have to accuse Him of falsehood or else admit that it is His Body not according to the senses, but according to the underlying substance which is imperceptible to the senses.

34. IS CHRIST’S BODY ANATOMICALLY AND PHYSIOLOGICALLY PRESENT?

Christ’s real Body is present. Anatomical structure and physiological modifications belong to qualities possessed by substance. After the consecration we have the substance of Christ’s Body present without any external manifestation of His anatomical or physiological appearances, and the qualities of bread remaining as the object of sense perception without any substance of bread. That substance of bread has been converted into the substance of Christ’s Body. And as substance is the basic reality, we rightly say that the Blessed Sacrament is the very Body of Christ.

Father Dalgairns explains your question in these words: “This then is what God has done to the Body of Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament. It has ceased to be extended, and all at once it is freed from the fetters which bound it to place. It is not so much that it is in many places at once, as that it is no longer under the ordinary laws of space at all. It pervades the Host like a spirit. It uses, indeed, the locality formerly occupied by the bread, in order to fix itself in a definite place, but it only comes into the domain of space at all indirectly through the species, as the soul only enters into its present relations with space through the body. Who will say that this involves contradiction, or that it is beyond the power of Omnipotence?”

35. WOULD CHRIST BE PRESENT IN A CRUMB OF THE HOST?

Yes. Christ is present, whole and entire, in every particle of the Sacred Host. The human soul is also confined to no part of the body, but is present in every part of the body. It is wrong to think that, by breaking the Host into several portions, the Body of Jesus would be broken, mangled or dissected.

36. CHRIST IS IN HEAVEN. HOW CAN YOU PUT HIM IN THE TABERNACLE?

No Catholic denies that Christ is continually present in Heaven. He is not so present in the Eucharist that He ceases to be present in Heaven. He is in Heaven according to His natural though glorified form. The same Christ is in the Eucharist substantially, but not in the same way as He is present in Heaven. Substance as such abstracts from limitations of place and space. Locality directly belongs to the qualities of bread which remain after consecration, and indirectly only to the substantial presence of Christ’s Body underlying those apparent qualities.

37. IS CHRIST’S BODY SUBJECT TO PROCESSES OF DIGESTION?

The substance of Christ’s Body is not subject to processes of digestion or to any chemical reactions. The qualities of bread, of course, behave in their normal way, undergoing a change as they are affected by digestion. Our Lord’s substantial presence ceases as these qualities cease to retain those characteristics proper to bread.

38. IF POISON WERE PRESENT BEFORE CONSECRATION WOULD IT BE SAFE TO CONSUME THE EUCHARIST?

No. People would be poisoned. The Church has never taught that poison could be converted into Christ’s Body, and in any case you are dealing with chemical activities proper to qualities, and not proper to substance as such. All such objections are based upon notions excluded by Catholic teaching. And it is of little use to refute what the Catholic Church does not teach.

39. IS NOT THE PRIEST WHO CAN ACCOMPLISH THIS THING AKIN TO THE MIRACLE MAN OF PRIMITIVE RELIGIONS?

No. The miracle-man claimed to perform his wonders by his own marvelous powers. The priest says that the power of Christ effects the change in the Eucharist, and that he himself is but an instrument employed by Christ, and taking a very secondary place. The miracle-man depended upon the superstition and credulity of the bystanders. The priest forbids superstition and credulity, and insists upon faith in God, a supernatural faith based upon rational foundations. The miracle-man attributed preternatural effects to natural causes, whether spiritual or material. The Catholic Church attributes supernatural effects (a vast difference!) to a supernatural cause. The miracle-man could never prove any direct commission from God. The Catholic Church can prove her direct commission from Him to the satisfaction of every intelligent man willing to inquire into her credentials with sincerity. The miracle-man tried to perform things wholly unbecoming to God, by means which have no resemblance to those relied upon by the Catholic Church, and for a purpose and end totally different.

40. I HEARD YOU SAY THAT CHRIST IS OFFERED IN THE EUCHARIST AS THE SACRIFICE OF THE NEW LAW

That is true. That offering of Christ in the Eucharist is known as the Mass, and the Mass is the Sacrifice of the New Law.

41. THERE IS ONLY ONE SACRIFICE FOR CHRISTIANS-THAT OF CALVARY

The Sacrifice of Calvary was a Sacrifice not only for Christians but for the whole human race from the moment of the first sin. But whilst the death of Christ upon the Cross was the one great absolute Sacrifice, the Mass is a true and relative Sacrifice applying to the souls of men the fruits of Calvary. Anyway the doctrine which denies that the Mass is the true Sacrifice in the Christian dispensation is simply anti-Scriptural.

42. HOW DO YOU PROVE THAT THE SACRIFICE OF THE MASS IS SCRIPTURAL?

By religion we honor God, and the chief and highest form of worship has ever been by the offering of sacrifice. Now God demanded continual sacrifices of various kinds from the very beginning of the human race until the coming of Christ, and it is not likely that the Christian and more perfect religion would lack a continual and regular offering of the highest act of religion. All the various sacrifices of the Jewish dispensation represented and prefigured the Sacrifice of Christ on Calvary, and derived all their value by anticipation from His death upon the Cross. And if the Jews had to honor God by regular sacrifices, so too, must Christians in the higher and more perfect New Law. But there is this difference. Whilst the Jewish sacrifices were anticipations of the Sacrifice of Christ on Calvary, the Mass is a recollection and constant application of that one great Sacrifice to the souls of men.

43. IT IS LITTLE USE YOUR TELLING US WHAT OUGHT TO BE, UNLESS YOU CAN PROVE IT AS A FACT FROM SCRIPTURE

I can do so. The Old Testament predicts that Christ will offer a true sacrifice to God in bread and wine-that He will use those elements. And this prediction is every bit as clear as the prediction that He will also offer Himself upon the Cross. Thus Gen. XIV., 18, tells us that Melchisedech, King of Salem, was a priest, and that he offered sacrifice under the form of bread and wine. Now Ps. 109 predicts most clearly that Christ will be a priest, according to the order of Melchisedech, i.e., offering a sacrifice under the forms of bread and wine. You may say that Christ fulfilled the prediction at the Last Supper, but that the rite was not to be continued. However, that admits that the rite was truly sacrificial-and the fact is that it has been continued in exactly the same sense. It was predicted that it would continue. After foretelling the rejection of the Jewish priesthood, the Prophet Malachy predicts a new sacrifice to be offered in every place. “From the rising of the sun even to the going down my name is great among the Gentiles: and in every place there is sacrifice and there is offered to my name a clean oblation.” Mal. 1, 11. The Sacrifice of Calvary took place in one place only. We must look for a sacrifice apart from Calvary, one offered in every place under the forms of bread and wine. The Mass is that Sacrifice.

44. WERE ALL THE CONDITIONS OF A SACRIFICE VERIFIED IN THE LAST SUPPER? AND ARE THEY STILL VERIFIED IN THE MASS?

Yes, to both questions. For a true Sacrifice we need a priest, an altar, a victim, and a covenant with God. Christ was truly the great High Priest, and He gave the power of priests to His Apostles, commissioning them to do repeatedly as He Himself had done in their presence. “Do this,” He said, “in commemoration of Me.” Luke XXII, 19. The power was to persevere in the Church, even as Malachy had predicted. As victim, Christ offered Himself at the Last Supper. Taking bread and wine He said, “This is My Body . . . This is My Blood . . . As often as you shall eat this bread and drink this chalice, you shall show the death of the Lord until He come.” 1 Cor. XI, 24–26. The separate forms of consecration represented the separation of His Body and Blood when He ratified the Sacrifice by His death on the Cross next day. The victim, then, is Christ under the appearances of bread and wine representatively separated. This does not interfere with the value of Calvary, for Christ’s real death occurred there, and without it this representative function would be useless. Continuously through the ages the Sacrifice of the Mass has been offered daily in the Catholic Church, and is today offered in every place from the rising of the sun even to its going down, as Malachy predicted.

As for the altar, years after the death of Christ, St. Paul said, “We have an altar whereof they have no power to eat who serve the tabernacle.” Heb. XIII., 10.

Finally, there is the covenant with God. “‘this chalice is the New Testament in My Blood,” said Christ. 1 Cor. XI., 25. It had legal documentary value in the sight of God. The Catholic Church alone fulfills Scripture in the Sacrifice of the Mass.

45. CHRIST’S BLOOD IS NOT SHED IN THE MASS, AND WITHOUT SHEDDING OF BLOOD THERE IS NO REMISSION

Christ offered Himself with the shedding of blood on Calvary. Without that shedding of blood there would be no remission of sin. Yet since the Mass is but an application of Calvary with its shedding of blood there is no real difficulty. There is a difficulty for one who denies the Sacrifice of the Mass, for without that there is no fulfillment of Malachy’s prophecy that there will be offered in every place a clean oblation, without shedding of blood, from the rising to the setting of the sun.

46. DID NOT POPE INNOCENT III. IN 1208 FIRST TEACH THE DOGMA THAT THE MASS IS A SACRIFICE?

No. He merely insisted upon the doctrine which had always been held by Christians that the Mass is a sacrifice in the true sense of the Gospel teachings. If the idea was not Catholic doctrine until 1208, why did St. Irenaeus in the year 180, over 1,000 years earlier, write that Christ commanded His disciples to offer sacrifice to God, not because God needed it but that they might become more pleasing to God? And he goes on to show that the continued offering of the Eucharistic Sacrifice is the fulfillment of the prophecy of Malachy which manifestly predicted that the Jewish people would cease to offer to God, and that a new and pure sacrifice would be offered to Him in every place by the Gentiles. Adv. Haer. IV., 17, 5. If Irenaeus, Bishop of Lyons, could write that in the second century, it is of little use to assert that Catholics did not believe the Mass to be a true Sacrifice until the year 1208.

47. CATHOLICS SPEAK OF THE MASS AS IF IT MEANT THE REAL DEATH OF CHRIST, AND CALCULATE ITS MATHEMATICAL VALUE!

No Catholic has ever believed that Christ is really slain in the Mass. They have never gone beyond the words of Scripture, “As often as you do this you shall show the death of the Lord until He come.” 1 Cor. XI, 26. Nor did any theologians attempt a mathematical calculation as to the efficacy of the Mass. They knew that mathematics could never express it. The theological value of the Mass is a perfectly legitimate question for any man to ask who seeks deeper knowledge of Christian doctrine.

48. ACCORDING TO CARDINAL VAUGHAN, CATHOLICS THINK THE MASS BETTER THAN CALVARY!

That sweeping statement is not justified by Cardinal Vaughan’s qualified doctrine. “So far as the practical effects upon the soul are concerned,” he writes, “the Holy Mass has in some senses the advantage over Calvary.” And he was quite right. No Catholic thinks that the Mass in itself is better than Calvary, for it is Calvary reapplied depending upon and deriving all its value from Calvary. “As often as you do this,” said Christ, “you shall show the death of the Lord until He come.” 1 Cor. XI, 26. And that death took place upon the Cross. Yet the Mass has this advantage that whilst the death of Christ upon the Cross occurred in one place only and before a few people, Calvary reapplied in the Mass can occur in many places and before multitudes.

49. CHRIST OFFERED THE LAST SUPPER IN THE EVENING. WHY DO YOU NOT HAVE MASS IN THE EVENING INSTEAD OF IN THE MORNING?

It is not essential that Mass should be offered in the evening, but simply that the Mass should be offered. Mass in the evening, of course, would be quite valid. The Church, making use of her God-given power to regulate all that pertains to disciplinary matters, has decreed that the Mass can be celebrated in the evening as well as in the morning.

50. JESUS GAVE HIMSELF UNDER THE FORMS OF BREAD AND WINE. YOU ARE NOT JUSTIFIED IN WITHHOLDING THE CUP FROM THE LAITY

The fact that the Catholic Church does so is sufficient proof that she is justified in doing so. However, let us view the theology of the matter. Jesus gave Himself under both kinds, yet He was completely present in either kind. He who receives either kind receives the whole Christ. In any case, Christ being risen dies no more. It is not possible now to separate Christ’s Body and Blood in actual fact. Wherever Christ is, there He is whole and entire. He is wholly under the appearance of bread and wholly under the appearances of wine. In receiving the Blessed Sacrament under the form of bread the communicant receives the Blood of Christ also. In receiving under the form of wine alone he would receive the Body also. There is no possibility of receiving the Body of Christ without the Blood of Christ.

51. WHY DOES THE CATHOLIC CHURCH GIVE COMMUNION UNDER ONE KIND ONLY?

For many grave reasons. This custom inculcates in a practical way that Christ is completely present under either kind. It excludes the heretical doctrine that it is absolutely necessary for Communion to partake of the chalice. It removes the danger of irreverence to the Precious Blood by upsetting or spilling it. It spares the recipients the danger of infection by their drinking from the same chalice. It enables a priest to celebrate Mass and distribute Communion without keeping the congregation an undue length of time, a reason which has particular force in the Catholic Church where hundreds go to Communion at early Masses. It secures uniformity of practice throughout the Church, for whilst flour is easily obtained for the purposes of bread, and easily kept, wine cannot be secured in sufficient quantity in many countries, above all in foreign missions. If our 20,000,000 Catholics in the United States went to Holy Communion tomorrow, imagine the wine bill the Church would have to pay should all receive under both forms. It is impossible in the Arctic Circle to keep wine. The priests caring for the Eskimos carry raisins with them in order to make sufficient wine out of them to celebrate Mass.

52. YOUR PRACTICE OF ONE FORM IS CONTRARY TO THE LUTHERAN DOCTRINE AND THE BIBLE

We are not going counter to the Bible. There is no difficulty about the sixth chapter of St. John which Martin Luther declared must be understood in the literal and not the figurative sense. Christ Who said: “Except you eat the Flesh of the Son of Man and drink His Blood, you shall not have life in you,” also said: “He that eateth this Bread shall live forever;” and Christ Who said: “He that eateth My Flesh and drinketh My Blood shall have everlasting life,” also said: “The Bread that I will give is My Flesh for the life of the world,” and finally, Christ Who said: “He that eateth My Flesh and drinketh My Blood, abideth in Me and I in him,” said also: “He that eateth this Bread shall live forever.” When Christ commanded the Apostles: “Drink ye all of it,” He was speaking not to the lay people, but to his priests, who when saying Mass always partake of Communion under both forms.

53. WHATEVER THE THEORY MAY BE, I OBJECT TO THE ANTI-CHRISTIAN PRACTICE

The practice is not anti-Christian. Reception under one kind only is quite sufficient for Holy Communion. Our Lord said simply, “If any man eat of this bread he shall live forever, for the bread that I will give is My Flesh for the life of the world.” Jn. VI., 52. In the early Church Communion was at times given to little children by giving them a few drops of the consecrated wine only. The martyrs would often take into the arena with them the Blessed Sacrament under the form of bread only, wrapped in linen, to give themselves Communion before death. The practice is quite in accordance with the doctrine of St. Paul, “Whosoever shall eat or drink unworthily shall be guilty of the Body and of the Blood of the Lord.” 1 Cor. XI., 27.

54. “EAT OR DRINK” IS NOT IN MY PROTESTANT BIBLE

It is not in the Authorized Version, but you will find it in the Revised Version. Protestant scholars admit that the substitution of “and” for “or” in the Authorized Version was an inexcusable mistranslation of the Greek for polemical purposes. Honesty will out some day.

55. SO THE PRIEST ALWAYS HAS THE WINE, BUT DOES NOT GIVE IT TO THE LAITY!

The priest does not always receive under both kinds. If for some reason he cannot celebrate Mass, yet desires to receive Holy Communion, he receives under the form of bread only, just as any other communicant. If he celebrates Mass, he must consecrate both kinds for the sake of the Sacrifice, the separate consecrations being necessary for the representation of Christ’s death by the shedding of His Blood on the Cross. Having consecrated under both kinds the priest must consume both kinds. But even in doing so, he receives no more than the laity, for both priest and lay communicant receive the complete Christ, and more than the complete Christ cannot be received. But your objection proceeds from a complete misunderstanding of the nature of the Eucharist. The idea of the officiating priest having a “drink of wine” which is denied to the laity does great injury to the reverence due to the Presence of Christ, and is utterly absurd. About an egg-cup full of wine is used in the celebration of the Mass, and in any case if a priest did merely want a drink of wine there is no need for him to vest himself elaborately and spend half an hour saying Mass in order to have it.

56. COULD A PRIEST BE IN MORTAL SIN YET GIVE THE TRUE BODY OF CHRIST?

A priest commits a grave sin of sacrilege if he celebrates Mass whilst he himself is in a state of mortal sin. But that would not render the consecration invalid. The words of consecration have their effect quite apart from the state of the celebrant’s soul. He consecrates in virtue of his priesthood, not in virtue of his being in a state of grace or of sin. It is his loss if he be not in God’s grace, but the communicant suffers no loss in receiving Communion from his hands. It is the priesthood of Christ in him that consecrates, and that is not less efficacious because a priest sins personally.

57. AT WHAT AGE CAN CHILDREN RECEIVE HOLY COMMUNION?

Any baptized child could receive Holy Communion with profit. The early Christians frequently gave Communion even to infants. However, the Church for wise reasons requires in her present discipline that children should have attained sufficient reason to be able, after due instruction, to know that the Blessed Sacrament differs from ordinary food, and that by receiving it they are receiving Christ.

58. HAS A CHILD OF SEVEN SUFFICIENT REASON?

As a rule, yes. The law of the Church to receive Holy Communion once a year obliges all Catholics who have come to the use of reason, and this begins to oblige from about the age of seven. The average child of seven certainly has enough sense to realize that the reception of the Holy Eucharist is a religious act. It can know who our Lord is, and the fact that He is present in the Blessed Sacrament. Such a child is quite capable of approaching with sincere faith and devotion.

59. DO CATHOLICS HAVE TO RECEIVE HOLY COMMUNION IN ORDER TO BE SAVED?

The reception of Holy Communion is not absolutely necessary for salvation, as the Council of Trent defined when it spoke about the custom of the Infant Church giving Communion to children immediately after Baptism and Confirmation. It is necessary in the sense that our Lord commands us to receive it; otherwise the words of Jn. VI., 54 and Lk. XXII., 19 would be meaningless. This Divine Command is observed in the Catholic Church today when she obliges her members under the pain of mortal sin to receive Communion during Easter time, as prescribed by the Fourth Council of Lateran in 1215.

60. THE PARENTS OF A JEW WHO BECAME A CONVERT TO YOUR CHURCH WORRIED ABOUT HIS FASTING BEFORE RECEIVING COMMUNION

Catholics abstain 3 hours from food and one hour from drink before they receive Communion, out of respect for the Sacrament of the Holy Eucharist. St. Augustine writes: “It has pleased the Holy Spirit that in honor of so great a Sacrament, the Body of the Lord should pass Christian lips before other food; for this reason that custom is observed throughout the whole world.” Tertullian mentions fasting before Communion and the Third Council of Carthage (397) ordered fasting before Communion, allowing but one exception and that was on Maundy Thursday, when Mass was celebrated in the evening to commemorate the Institution of the Eucharist. For the Catholics of today fasting is required, unless they are in danger of death or incurably ill over a month or obliged to consume the Blessed Sacrament at the time of a fire or profanation.

61. WHAT DO YOU CATHOLICS GET OUT OF GOING TO HOLY COMMUNION?

The principal effect out of Holy Communion is the spiritual union of the soul with Christ, as mentioned by St. John, VI., 57, 58, “He that eateth My Flesh, and drinketh My Blood, abideth in Me, and I in him. As the living Father hath sent Me, and I live by the Father; so he that eateth Me, the same also shall live by Me.” This union with Christ unites us in the “Mystical Body of Christ.” “For we, being many, are one bread, all that partake of One Bread.” 1 Cor. X, 17. The reception of this sacrament instituted by Christ increases in our soul sanctifying grace. The Council of Trent speaking on this point says, “No one conscious of mortal sin, how contrite soever he may seem to himself, ought to approach the sacred Eucharist without previous Sacramental Confession.” It makes us spiritually alive in order to receive it worthily and frees us from daily faults and preserves us from mortal sins.

62. WHY DO CATHOLICS GENUFLECT?

We genuflect or bend the knee when entering our seat in church or when crossing in front of the Blessed Sacrament as a mark of adoration to Jesus Christ, who is really and actually present in the tabernacle on the altar. Bending the knee is a natural sign of reverence as Lk., XXII., 41, remarks. “And he was withdrawn away from them a stone’s cast; and kneeling down he prayed.” Acts IX., 40, “And they all being put forth, Peter kneeling down prayed . . .” Phil. 11., 10, “That in the name of Jesus every knee should bow, of those that are in Heaven, on earth, and under the earth.”

63. WHAT DO YOU MEAN BY BENEDICTION SERVICE?

Benediction of the Blessed Sacrament is a devotion of public homage to the Real Presence of Christ in the Eucharist. It consists of singing of hymns of adoration before the Blessed Sacrament exposed in a vessel called the “Monstrance” or “Ostensorium” coming from the Latin word meaning a thing which shows. In the Ostensorium we are SHOWING Christ Sacramented to the people. Incense is placed in the thurible and it is waved three times in front of the Blessed Sacrament, as a symbol of the people’s prayer, “Let my prayer be directed as incense in Thy sight; the lifting up of my hands, as evening sacrifice.” Ps. CXL., 2. Two hymns composed by St. Thomas Aquinas are usually sung, “O Salutaris Hostia” and “Tantum Ergo.” After singing “Tantum Ergo,” the priest covers his shoulders with a humeral veil and then makes the sign of the cross (which constitutes the Benediction) over the adoring people. At the closing, Psalm CXVI. or “Holy God, we praise Thy name,” is sung.

64. “After mortal sin, is it allowed to make an act of perfect contrition and then receive Holy Communion without confession? Quoted from “Questions of Youth,” Kempf.

The erroneous opinion that this may be done in any case seems to be due to a misunderstanding or misapplication of the following truths:

1. Perfect contrition (including the desire of confession) forgives mortal sin at the time of the contrition, though the obligation of confessing the sin remains.

2. Holy Communion forgives venial sins, if there be at least imperfect contrition (attrition) for them; therefore contrition is among the acts recommended as preparation for the reception of Holy Communion.

3. There could be some cases in which Holy Communion may be received with perfect contrition only, without confession (see below).

B. Principles

1. If the intending communicant remembers a mortal sin which was omitted without his fault in a previous confession (in which he had sorrow for all grievous sins) that sin was forgiven and he is in the state of grace by confession. Therefore there is no obligation of confessing this sin before receiving Holy Communion, whether once or many times. There is, however, the obligation of confessing that sin in the next confession. (The question above usually does not refer to this case, but to the next.)

2. If the mortal sin was committed since the last confession,

(a) Even though perfect contrition forgives mortal sin at the time of contrition, one may not receive Holy Communion after mortal sin without first receiving the sacrament of Penance.

(b) The only exceptions occur when the following two conditions are both present simultaneously:

(1) No confessor is available, and

(2) there is urgent need of receiving Holy Communion (Canon Law, c. 856).

C. Application

1. A confessor is not available if

(a) there is no confessor in the place,

(b) nor can a confessor be reached elsewhere without serious inconvenience, depending on distance and time available.

The fact that the usual confessor is not available cannot be construed as absence of confessor in this connection.

2. Necessity of Holy Communion. This will be extremely rare in the case of youth.

(a) The following do not constitute cases of necessity:

(1) the desire to receive Holy Communion;

(2) the fact that one has been accustomed to receive daily;

(3) the fact that one has promised to receive Communion on that day;

(4) the fact that a whole class or group is now receiving;

(5) the desire to “avoid interrupting the nine First Fridays,” etc.

(b) The necessity of receiving Holy Communion would be present if it could not be omitted without serious scandal or defamation of character. About the only case in which this would happen to youth would be the case in which one is already at the altar rail before recalling the mortal sin. This is surely extremely rare. But if it does happen, the person should endeavor to make an act of perfect contrition, and then receive Holy Communion. He is not obliged to leave the altar rail without receiving (Davis, 111, 207–211.).

65. IS IT NOT BETTER TO RECEIVE HOLY COMMUNION RARELY, WITH DEVOTION, THAN FREQUENTLY, WITHOUT ANY DEVOTION?

While it is possible that such a question could be used in an effort to cover up reasons for infrequent Communion such as laziness, etc., this is surely rare. Usually it denotes some doubt or anxiety about the matter, as revealed by the varying forms of the question, e. g., “Would it be better to discontinue receiving daily when one feels that he is not receiving with enough devotion?”

A. PRINCIPLES

1. Catholic theology distinguishes effects of sacraments:

(a) ex opere operato, i.e., in virtue of the act performed, independently of the merits of the recipient or minister;

(b) ex opere operantis, i.e., because of the acts and dispositions of the recipient.

2. It is a matter of faith that the sacraments produce their effects ex opere operato in those who do not place an obstacle thereto (Counc. of Trent, Sess. VII, canons 5–8).

3. Note that

(a) the amount of grace conferred by a sacrament depends on the disposition of the recipient (Counc. of Trent, Sess. VI, can. 7.)

(b) This disposition of the recipient, however, is not the cause of the grace, but merely a condition of a richer outpouring of grace (Pohle-Preuss, VIII, 73,122–142).

B. APPLICATION TO HOLY COMMUNION

1. The effects of Holy Communion are:

(a) union of the soul with Christ by love;

(b) increase of sanctifying grace;

(c) blotting out venial sin and preservation from mortal sin by allaying concupiscence, and consequently Holy Communion is

(d) a pledge of our glory and everlasting happiness (Counc. of Trent, Sess. XIII, chap. 2; Eugene IV, Decree Pro

Armenis, a. d. 1439; see Pohle-Preuss, IX, 218–234).

2. These effects are produced ex opere operato in one receiving, if he places no obstacle. The only obstacle in the case of Holy Communion would be the absence of the state of grace (Counc. of Trent, Sess. XIII, chap. 7). N.B. Even the absence of a right intention in receiving would not prevent an increase of sanctifying grace, though grace would be received far less abundantly than by reception with a proper intention. Lack of proper intention could not be approved, since it would be a venial sin.

3. The effects of Holy Communion will be produced in still greater measure if the recipient is better disposed.

Therefore it is expedient that

(a) one be free from deliberate venial sin, and

(b) one make a preparation and thanksgiving at Holy Communion (demanded in any event by reverence to the

Sacrament) (Pius X, Decree on Frequent Communion, Dec. 20, 1905).

C. CONCERNING THE SPECIFIC QUESTION

1. The question is somewhat misleading. It implies that there is choice only between infrequent Communion with devotion, and frequent Communion without any devotion. This will hardly be the case.

2. The term “devotion” is not at all clear. There is great danger that one interpret devotion entirely as feeling or emotion. It may be true that communicating infrequently one experiences more feeling of devotion. But this does not prove that the absence of such feeling is the absence of devotion; for feeling, however useful, is not essential. 3. One who deprives himself of frequent Communion in order to receive with greater “devotion” is actually preferring to miss the effects of Holy Communion ex opere operato many times, in order to gain the doubtful advantage of receiving the effects only once, though perhaps in greater measure. This is to be deplored.

4. It could be said that one Holy Communion is about the best preparation we can make for another Holy Communion.

One is better disposed by the graces of the sacrament than by one’s personal efforts, though the latter are also desirable. 5. The best effects are obtained by

(a) receiving often,

(b) with as much reverence, love, etc., as one can evoke by earnest effort.

6. SO LONG AS THIS EARNEST EFFORT IS PRESENT, ONE NEED NOT BE DISTURBED BY ANY LACK OF FEELING OF DEVOTION. 66. WHY DON’T I GET BETTER EVEN AFTER FREQUENT COMMUNION?

A. Obviously, if one meant by “frequent” Communion only that he has increased the number slightly, the answer would be that:

1. One has not really received frequently, and

2. Consequently any failure to improve is no argument against frequent Holy Communion.

B. Some of the effects of Holy Communion cannot be perceived or measured. Thus

1. The degree of union with Christ;

2. Increase of sanctifying grace;

3. The blotting out of venial sin.

Therefore we cannot say “I don’t get better” in regard to these.

C. The statement “I don’t get better,” however, usually refers to apparent absence of progress in avoiding sins and practicing virtues. Two considerations apply here:

1. Progress can be considered not only absolutely, but also relatively. Although one may not commit fewer venial sins after Holy Communion, yet actually one may be committing fewer in proportion to the number and violence of temptations. In other words: How do we know that we would not be much worse without frequent Communion? 2. If there is actually no improvement,

(a) the fault cannot lie in the sacrament;

(b) the fault must lie in the recipient.

D. Obstacles to improvement on the part of the recipient.

The individual may have been led into one of two errors:

1. The stressing of the minimum requirements for Holy Communion (state of grace and right intention) may have created the erroneous impression that other dispositions are of little consequence. But it would be a mistake to consider

“not absolutely necessary” the equivalent of “not desirable or recommended.”

2. The encouragement to frequent reception of Holy Communion may have left the erroneous impression that Holy

Communion is an end in itself, i. e., that with the reception everything is accomplished. But the sacraments, including the

Holy Eucharist, are not ends in themselves; they are “the principal means of sanctification and salvation” (Canon Law, c.

731).

1. If there is no improvement, desirable dispositions may be lacking

(a) Desirable dispositions are:

(1) freedom from venial sin. Pius X: “It is most expedient that those who communicate frequently or daily should be free from venial sins” (Decree on Frequent Communion, Dec. 20, 1905, art. 3).

(2) proper preparation and thanksgiving. Pius X: “Whereas the sacraments of the New Law, though they may take effect ex opere operato, nevertheless produce a greater effect in proportion as the dispositions of the recipient are better, therefore, care is to be taken that Holy Communion be preceded by serious preparation, and followed by a suitable thanksgiving, according to each one’s strength, circumstances, and duties” (Same Decree, art. 4).

(b) Regarding preparation and thanksgiving:

(1) A purely passive behavior is not sufficient, as is evident from the condemnation by Innocent XI (A. D. 1687) of an opinion of the Quietist M. de Molinos;

(2) Active procedure is wanted.

(a) Preparation should consist of acts of ardent desire, humility, love, etc.

(b) Thanksgiving should consist of adoration, thanksgiving, surrender, petitions for self and others (Tanquerey, pp.

147–150).

2. If there is no improvement, it may be because one fails to use the graces received.

(a) Holy Communion does not make one a saint without his own personal effort. Not he becomes holy who receives much grace, but he who uses that grace (i. e., actual grace).

(b) This effort must consist in:

(1) anticipating and avoiding the unnecessary occasions of sin;

(2) resisting temptation when it occurs.

It will be extremely useful to concentrate on faults and sins to be avoided, in the preparation and thanksgiving at Holy

Communion. But it is not enough simply to resolve that we will do something. We ought to discuss in the presence of Jesus how we may accomplish it. We know the situations in which we fail; we should know when and why we fail. A definite plan to cover the circumstances, made in the presence of Jesus and with His grace, will undoubtedly help to overcome our failings.

The sacrament gives grace, and the oftener we receive and the better our dispositions, the more grace we receive. If we actually use that grace “it is impossible but that daily communicants should gradually emancipate themselves even from venial sins, and from all affection thereto” (Pius X, Decree on Frequent Communion, art. 3).

67. CAN HOLY COMMUNION REALLY BE RECEIVED FOR OTHERS?

Many questions in varying form have as common element the point stated here. It is to the credit of youth that, in spite of frequent use of the expression “offering Holy Communion for others,” it finds difficulty understanding how this can be.

FOR TO “OFFER UP HOLY COMMUNION FOR ANOTHER PERSON” IS, STRICTLY SPEAKING, IMPOSSIBLE

A. The effects of Holy Communion (see Q. II) can be received only by the one actually receiving Holy Communion, and cannot be transferred to others.

St. Thomas, speaking of Penance, says: “A person cannot receive a sacrament for somebody else, because in a sacrament grace is given to the one who receives it and not to another” (Summ. Theol., Suppl. q. 13, art. 2, ad 2). Of Holy Communion he says specifically: “No help can accrue to a person from the fact that another, or even several others, receive the body of Our Lord” (111, q. 79, art. 7, ad 3). Again, commenting on Chapter 6 of St. John’s Gospel, he says: “It follows, therefore, that the laity who receive Holy Communion for the souls in Purgatory err” (Sup. Joan., chap.

6, lect. 6, n. 7).

(Of course the fruits of the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass can be applied to others.) .

B. In receiving Holy Communion, the faithful perform other good works: prayer, etc. Can these be applied to others?

Distinguish: (1) Merit; (2) Satisfaction; (3) Impetration. (For details see outline: Value of Prayers and Good Works, etc.) 1. The merit of good works cannot be applied to others.

2. The satisfactory value of good works can be offered for others. Receiving Holy Communion may involve a certain amount of self-denial or penance, such as fasting, arising early, walking a great distance, praying in spite of distractions, and the like. The value of these as satisfaction may be applied to others, e. g., to the Poor Souls.

3. The impetratory value of prayers can benefit others, i. e., one can and should pray for others at Holy Communion.

“It is generally held that the prayers of petition made in the presence of the Eucharistic Lord are more readily heard by

God” (Pohle-Preuss Dogmatic Theology, IX, p. 231, 6 edit., St. Louis Herder, 1931.)

(On the whole question see Orate Fratres, IX [1935], 512–515. )

Note: No contrary argument can be drawn from the fact that “Spiritual Bouquets” list “Holy Communions” among the things one promises to do for another. For theological truth cannot be deduced from any custom, no matter how widespread. On the contrary, custom should follow theological truth and express it correctly. Therefore instead of “Holy Communions” it would be better to print “Special Prayers at Holy Communion” or something similar.

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Eucharistic Meditations

BY ST. PETER JULIAN EYMARD

INDEX

JESUS, MODEL OF POVERTY Beati pauperes spiritu.

Blessed are the poor in spirit. (Matthew v, 3.)

THE spirit, virtue, and life of Jesus are a spirit, virtue, and life of poverty, and of an absolute and perpetual poverty. The Eternal Word adopted it at Bethlehem on His becoming Man, He took what was most humiliating about poverty, the abode of beasts and what was most difficult about it, the stable, the manger, the straw, the cold, the night. He was born far from the homes of men, who offered Him no assistance in His need, in order to be poorer still, the Word made flesh willed to be born during a journey and refused hospitality on account of the poverty of His Parents.

He then spent a portion of His childhood in Egypt, a foreign land hostile to the Jews, so that His parents might be still poorer and more forsaken if that could be. At Nazareth He spent thirty years in the practice of poverty. His home was poor; to be convinced of this, it is enough to see the poverty of that home at Loreto. His furniture was poor; He had only what was strictly necessary, and that was very plain, the kind poor people use; Our Lady’s wooden dish, still preserved at Loreto, is a good proof of it. His clothes were poor; His tunic, which we may see at Argenteuil, was of common wool; His swaddling clothes were of coarse cloth. His food was that of the poor; it was the fruit of the labour of a poor carpenter, who could earn only the necessaries of life.

Jesus wanted to appear poor in all He did. He considered Himself the poorest of all, and always took the last place. He honoured and respected everybody, just as the poor do. He was silent and listened humbly to the instructions in the synagogue. He never made a show of wisdom or of extraordinary knowledge, but lived the life common to those of His rank. He lived like a poor man and went along unnoticed and forgotten like one.

In everything He did and procured for Himself, He sought what was poorest. See Him during His apostolic life. He kept on wearing working clothes and continued living like the poor. He knelt on the bare ground for prayer. He ate barley bread, the bread of the poor. He lived on charity. He travelled like the poor and, like them, experienced hunger and thirst without being able to satisfy it as He pleased. His poverty made Him contemptible in the eyes of the rich and the great; in spite of that He did not hesitate to tell them: Vae vobis divitibus”Woe to you, O ye rich men of the earth!”

He chose disciples poor like Himself, and forbade them to have two coats, or provisions for the future, or money, or a staff wherewith to defend themselves.

He died forsaken and stripped even of His poor garments. He was buried in a borrowed shroud and laid in a sepulchre offered by the charity of friends.

Even after His Resurrection He appeared to His Apostles in the trappings of poverty.

Lastly, in the Most Blessed Sacrament His love of poverty leads Him to veil the glory of His divinity and the splendour of His glorified humanity. He deprives Himself therein of all freedom and of exterior action, as well as of all ownership in order to have nothing He can call His own. In a way, He is in the Eucharist as in His Mother’s womb, wrapped up in the sacred species and hidden beneath them, awaiting from the charity of man the matter of His Sacrament and the articles required for worship. Such is the poverty of Jesus: He has loved it and made it His inseparable companion.

Why did Jesus Christ choose this constant state of poverty?

In the first place, because as a child of Adam He had adopted the state of our exiled nature, which had been stripped of it’s rights over inferior creatures; in the second place, because He wanted to sanctify by His poverty all the acts of poverty to be performed in His Church. He became poor in order that through His not caring about earthly possessions He might detach us from them and impart to us the riches of Heaven. He became poor so that poverty, which is our condition our penance, and our means of reparation, might through Him, becomes honourable, desirable and lovable. He remains poor to show us and prove us His love. He remains poor in the Sacrament, in spite of His glorified state, in order always to be our living and visible mode.

And thus poverty, which in itself is not likable, since it is a punishment and a privation, becomes noble and full of charm through Jesus Christ, Who adopted it as His form of life, based His Gospel upon it, and made it the first of the Beatitudes and His divine heiress.

It is holy through Jesus since it was His great virtue, and since it repairs God’s glory, destroyed by original sin and our own personal sins. It gives rise to the virtue of penance by the privations, which it entails. It furnishes a natural occasion for the practice of patience, which is quite indispensable for the completing and perfecting of our undertakings. It sustains humility, which it feeds with the humiliations that are its unfailing companions. It supposes that one has enough meekness and strength of character to face a long siege of suffering; for suffering without consolation of friendly assistance usually follows upon it. It must be meek, for one does not give anything to an insolent beggar. It must be full of deference and respect towards all those who give it help. It must be grateful, for that is its power. It must pray, for that is its life

And what glory poverty gives to God!

No matter what happens, poverty is content with its condition because it comes from God. It offers as homage to God everything that makes up its condition. It is grateful for trials as well as for good fortune. It adores God in all things and prefers Him to any condition. Its wealth is in the holy will of God. It places itself in the hands of His paternal providence whether this is manifested through mercy, or kindness, or even justice. Jacta super Dominum curam tuam, et ipse te enutriet.”Cast thy care upon the Lord, and He shall sustain thee.” Those that are poor supernaturally are God’s property.

Oh! How enrapturing is the poverty, which makes us love God above all else! Christian poverty is beautiful, but more beautiful still religious poverty, which honours God by giving up everything and abandoning itself in all things to His goodness. The love of pleasure ruined man; poverty rehabilitates him and restores him to happiness. But above all how admirable is the poverty of Jesus in the Most Blessed Sacrament where He deprives Himself of all glory, of all freedom, of every kind of natural good, and where He depends on the charity of man and is at his mercy! That is true love!

Accordingly, all those who wish to be saints must love poverty, and to become a great saint, one must both love poverty and live in the state of poverty. Perfection or sanctity consists in our always preferring to have less than more, in simplifying our life by cutting down the number of its pleasures, in pauperising ourselves for the love of Our Lord, in imitating His poverty and in making it the law of our interior and exterior life, the form of the life of Jesus in us.

III

Let us consider the spiritual poverty of Jesus Christ; it is the crown and the life of the virtue of poverty.

We are ignorant; consequently we ought to keep quiet and listen. Our Lord, Who knew all things since He was the Word or Intellect of the Father, was silent the greater part of His life, as if He had been totally uninformed .How difficult it is to persuade ourselves we should have that kind of poverty! We are full of spiritual vanity!

Jesus was endowed with all the virtues to the highest degree, and He declared that of Himself He had nothing. We have really nothing worth while in our heart. In the presence of God we are dry and barren like a stone or a beast of burden. Our heart does not know what to say to God; it can produce nothing but thorns and thistles. Is that anything to be proud of? It is a poor soil that can grow only weeds.

Our Lord’s power for good was limitless; He nevertheless relied for everything on the power of His Father. We are powerless for good. Our poverty is still more destitute in that than in anything else; for we have done a great deal of evil and very little good, and to make matters worse, we have spoiled with imperfection what little good we have done

Such is the poverty of our soul. We must make a virtue of it. But to do this, we must go to our Lord through this state of poverty and perform acts of it like the child that is weak, ignorant, clumsy, and spoils everything, but is nevertheless at peace with itself and happy near its mother. Its mother takes the place of everything; in like manner, let the poverty of Jesus be all our riches! A poor man is usually without resources, without learning, without power; nevertheless, he lives at peace in his condition. He is fond of his rags, since they entitle him to a share in the charities of the rich. If he has any sores, he takes pleasure in showing them; he earns his bread with them.

But is not our Lord more kind and tender than a mother? Is He not our sweet providence, our light, our all? Let us then serve Him in a spirit of poverty and in true humility of heart. Let us remain in the world without any protection; Jesus in the Sacrament has none, and neither have the poor. Who would not wonder at the interior and exterior poverty of Jesus, Mary, and Joseph?

A poor man has nothing; clings to nothing; can do nothing by himself, and knows he means nothing to others. If the opposite were the truth, he would be very rich; for the goods of the mind are much more valuable than the goods of the body, and there is more glory in our being able to give advice than to give a few pieces of silver.

Interior poverty understood in this sense, becomes a remedy for the three concupiscences within us. It attacks vanity, the desire to know always more, and the sensuality of the mind; we are convinced that we are lacking in mind, in heart, in energy, in constancy, and in strength. We shall practise poverty quite naturally and make it our condition. We shall want to depend on God for everything: on His light for our mind, on His grace for our will, on His love for our heart, on His Cross for our body.

But if we are to love this poverty, we must see it and love it in our Lord, Who is so poor in the Sacrament and is forever repeating to us: Sine Me nihil potestis facere.”Without Me, you can do nothing, you have nothing. I am your only wealth. Do not seek any other either in yourself or around you.”

IV

If we are bound to be poor by our state of life, what is the source of our sins against it? And if we are not in the religious life, what is the source of the antipathy we experience against being poor out of love?

The first source of it is vanity. We want to have beautiful things among our personal belongings. We pick out what is best and precious, and dazzling, under the pretext that things last longer. It would be better to consult Our Lord and the spirit of poverty; one act of this virtue would be more profitable to us than all that would-be economy.

Sensuality also leads us to transgress poverty by the extreme care we take of ourselves. What expensive measures we resort to against the slightest indisposition! Ah! Many of us are more afraid of poverty than of humility or modesty or any other virtue.

We must therefore take to poverty resolutely if we want to resemble our Lord. Let each one of us, according to his condition, aim at having fewer and less expensive things. Let every thing that we buy or receive be a tribute to the holy poverty of our Master Jesus Christ.

CHRISTMAS AND THE EUCHARIST Parvulus natus est nobis

A child is born to us. (Isaias ix 6.)

CHRISTMAS is a lovely feast. We always greet it with joy. Our love gives it a new life, and the Eucharist is its continuation. Bethlehem and the Cenacle are inseparably. linked together; they complete each other. Let us study the relations that exist between the two.

I

THE Eucharist was sown at Bethlehem. What is the Eucharist but “the wheat of the elect” and “the living bread”? Now, wheat must be sown. It must fall into the soil, and spring up, and ripen, and be harvested, and be ground before it can be made into good bread.

When He was born on the straw of the stable, the Word was preparing His Eucharist, which He considered the complement of all His other mysteries. He was coming to be united to man. During His life He would establish with man a union of grace, a union of examples and of merit; but only in the Eucharist would He consummate the most perfect union of which man is capable here below. If we want to understand the divine plan, we must not lose sight of the divine idea, of the purpose our Lord had in mind: a union of grace through the mysteries of His life and death; a physical and personal union through the Eucharist. Both unions were to prepare the consummation of union in glory.

Just as a traveller never loses sight of the goal of his journey and directs every step towards it, so throughout His whole life our Lord secretly prepared the Eucharist and brought it ever nearer.

This heavenly wheat was as it were sown at Bethlehem the “House of bread.” See the wheat on the straw. Trodden down and crushed, this straw represents poor humanity. Of itself it is barren. But Jesus will lift it into position in Himself, will restore it to life, and will make it fruitful. Nisi granum frumenti cadens in terram”Unless the grain of wheat falling into the ground . . .”

This divine grain has been sown. The tears of Jesus are the moisture that will make it grow into beautiful wheat. Bethlehem is built on a hill facing Jerusalem. When this ear of wheat has ripened, it shall lean towards Calvary where it shall be ground and shall be set on the fire of suffering to become a living bread.

Kings will come to eat of it and find it delicious: Praebebit delicias regibus . “It shall yield dainties to kings.” It is fit for the royal nuptials of the Lamb: Currunt Magi ad regales nuptias. The Wise Men hasten . . . to the marriage supper of the King.” The Wise Men at that supper represented the kingly and self-possessed souls who today feed on this Bread of the Sacrament .

The relations between our Saviour’s birth at Bethlehem and the Eucharist considered as Sacrament exist also between our Saviour’s birth and the Eucharist considered as Sacrifice.

It was truly a lambkin that was born at Bethlehem. Jesus was born like a lamb in a stable, and like a lamb knew no one but His mother. He was already offering Himself for the sacrifice; it was His first cry: Hostiam et oblationem noluisti: corpus autem aptasti mihi.”Father, Thou no longer desirest the sacrifices and oblations of the Law, but a body hast Thou given Me. Here I am.” Jesus needed that body in order to be immolated; He offered it to His Father. This little Lamb was to grow up close to its Mother; in forty days she would learn the secret of its immolation. She would feed it with her pure and virginal milk, and would preserve it for the day of sacrifice. This characteristic of victim was so evident in our Lord that when Saint John the Baptist saw Him in the early days of His public life, he had no other name for Him than that of “Lamb of God.” Ecce Agnus Dei, ecce qui tollit peccatum mundi.”Behold the Lamb of God, behold Him who taketh away the sin of the world.”

The sacrifice begun at Bethlehem is consummated on the altar at Holy Mass. Oh! How touching is the Midnight Mass in the Christian world! We greet it long beforehand and are always glad to see it come around again What is it that gives to our feast of Christmas its charm and that pours joy into our carols and rapture into our hearts, if not that on the altar Jesus is really born again, although in a different state? Do not our carols and our homages go straight to His very Person? The object of our festive celebration as of our love present. We really go to Bethlehem and we find there, not a memory, not a picture, but the divine Infant Himself.

And see how the Eucharist began at Bethlehem. He was even then the Emmanuel, “God with us,” Who was come to dwell among His people. On the first Christmas Day He began to live in our midst; the Eucharist perpetuates His presence. At Bethlehem, the Word was made flesh; in the Sacrament He is made bread in order to give us His flesh without stirring any feeling of repugnance in us.

At Bethlehem He also began practising the virtues of His sacramental state.

He concealed His divinity in order to familiarise man with God. He veiled His divine glory as a first step to the veiling of His humanity. He bound His power in the weakness of a child’s body; later He would bind it beneath the Sacred species. He was poor; He stripped Himself of every possession; He, the Creator and Sovereign Master of all things. The stable was not His own; charity let Him have the use of it. He lived with His Mother on the offerings of the shepherds and the gifts of the Magi; later in the Eucharist, He would ask man for a shelter for Himself, the matter for His Sacrament, vestments for His priest and His altar. This is how Bethlehem heralds the Eucharist.

We even find there the inauguration of Eucharistic worship in its chief form, adoration.

Mary and Joseph were the first adorers of the Word Incarnate. They believed firmly; their faith was their virtue: Beata, quae credidisti.”Blessed are thou that hast believed” They adored Him by the virtue of their faith.

The shepherds and the Magi also adored Him in union with Mary and Joseph.

Mary was entirely devoted to the service of Her Son. She was all intent on His service, anticipating His least wishes to satisfy them. The shepherds offered their plain and simple presents, and the Magi their magnificent gifts. They adored Him by the homage of their gifts.

The Eucharist also is the meeting-place for persons of all conditions; it is the centre of the Catholic world. It is the object of that twofold worship of adoration: the interior adoration of faith and love; the exterior adoration through the magnificence of gifts, of churches, and of the thrones on which the divine Host will be posed.

II

The birth of our Lord suggests another thought to me. The angels announced the Saviour to the shepherds in these words: Natus est vobis hodie Salvator.”This day is born to you a Saviour.” A new era was beginning. Adam’s work was about to be overthrown and replaced by a work of divine restoration. There are two Adams, each one the father of a great people: the first Adam,”of the earth, earthly,” de terra terrenus, father of the degenerated world; and the second Adam, “from heaven, heavenly, “de coelo coelestis, father of the regenerated world.

The second was come to build what the first had destroyed. Note that this restoration is carried out here below only through the Eucharist. The capital point about Adam’s fault, as also the main argument of the diabolical temptation was contained in these words, “You shall be as gods,” and in the feeling of pride they aroused in Adam.

“You shall become like to God!” Alas! They became like to the beasts! Well, our Lord came not only to “take up Satan’s promises and repeat them to us, but to fulfil them Satan was caught in his own snares. Yes, we shall become like to God by eating of His Flesh and Blood,

“You shall not die.” In Communion we receive an unfailing pledge of immortality. “He that eateth My flesh, and drinketh My Blood, hath everlasting” eternal life. We lose our temporal life. But it is not a life worthy of the name; it is only a halt on the journey to true life.

“You shall become like to God.” Marrying into a family of higher social rank changes one’s condition; by marrying a king, a commoner becomes queen, Our Lord shares His divinity with us by communicating Himself to us. We become His flesh and His blood. We receive something of the Creator’s divine and heavenly kingship. Human nature was intimately united to the Godhead through the hypostatic union; so does Communion elevate us to union with God and make us partakers of his nature. A less perfect food is transformed into us, but we are transformed into our Lord, Who absorbs us. We become members of God. And in heaven our glory shall be in proportion to our transformation into Jesus Christ through a frequent partaking of His adorable Body.

“You shall know all things.” All, that is evil, yes; all that is good, by no means. Where, to His Apostles after having given them Communion: “I will not now call you servants; . . . but My friends: because all things what soever I have heard of My Father, I have made knownto you.” Knowledge is imparted to us in the Eucharist by God Himself, Who constitutes Himself our special and personal teacher. Et erunt omnes docibiles Dei.” Andthey shall all be taught of God.” He nolonger sends us prophets; He is Himself our teacher. “You shall know all things,” for His is divine Knowledge itself, uncreated and infinite.

That is how the Eucharist completes the restoration begun in the Crib. Make merry therefore on this beautiful day, on which the sun of the Eucharist is rising. Let your gratitude never separate the Crib from the altar, the Word made flesh from the God-Man made bread of life in the Most Blessed Sacrament.

THE MONTH OF THE BLESSED SACRAMENT Mensis iste, vobis principium mensium.

This month shall be to you the beginning of months. (Exodus xii. 2.)

A great number of devout persons consecrate the Month of June in honour of the Sacred Heart of Jesus. For this reason it is called the month of the Sacred Heart.

We wish to consecrate it to the Most Blessed Sacrament, and I think that the name of the month of the Blessed Sacrament is more justified than the other.

Both feasts, that of the Sacred Heart and that of the Blessed Sacrament, usually fall during this month; but the latter is the more solemn and of a superior rite. It is also much more ancient in the Church and should be dearer to us.

It is a very good thing to honour the Sacred Heart as the seat of the infinite love of Jesus Christ; but Eucharistic souls should honour it in the Most Blessed Sacrament. For where is the Heart of Jesus truly and substantially living if not in the Eucharist and in heaven?

Many persons honour the Sacred Heart on pictures and make these representations the object of their devotion. This kind of worship is good: but it is only relative. We ought to go beyond the image to the reality. In the Blessed Sacrament this Heart is living and beating for us. Let then this living and pulsating Heart be the centre of our life. Let us learn to honour the Sacred Heart in the Eucharist. Let us never separate the Sacred Heart from the Eucharist.

In the course of the year the entire thirty days of several months are consecrated to special devotions. For example, there is the month of Mary, which is nothing other than a feast of thirty days in honour of the Most Blessed Virgin. During that month we honour all her virtues and all the mysteries of her life; and we never fail to receive some new favour or other. There is also the month of Saint Joseph. A special month will soon be dedicated to the fostering of every important devotion. So much the better! It is an excellent thing of great consequence to Catholic piety.

For we have the time in a month to cover the entire object of the devotion, to consider, it from every angle, and to acquire a correct and thorough knowledge of it. By making daily and appropriate meditations and by centering our acts, virtues, and prayers on the same object for a whole month, we soon get a true and solid devotion to the mystery we are honouring. When everything is focused on one thought, such a thought is powerful and exhaustive.

Our devotion must be strong and valid, and must tend to a single object. Why do not a greater number of devout persons attain noteworthy sanctity? Because they have no unity in their piety. They have not enough food to provide for the nourishment and growth of their spirit of piety. They do not know how to draw up for themselves a set of truths to live by.

You are aware what excellent results a mission produces in a parish which had hitherto remained deaf to the pressing exhortations and the heroic example of its pastor. The reason is that a mission is nothing other than an uninterrupted succession of exercises. It makes use of all the means capable of touching the heart, striking the imagination and forcing one to serious reflection. A mission is a torrent of grace formed by a gathering together of all the means of salvation. Is it surprising that it triumphs over the most hardened hearts?

When all our thoughts and exercises of piety are brought together and concentrated on a single object, they lead us to the highest virtue and overthrow every obstacle.

Let us then have a devotion that is concentrated and continuous. It is said that to correct a bad habit or an ingrained vice, we must first be vigilant and fight against ourselves for some time before starting a movement of progress toward the opposite virtue. Once this initial start is given; we move ahead with giant strides.

The same holds good for the subject in which we are presently interested. It will take us some time before we succeed in loving with a strong and enlightened love the Most Blessed Sacrament, the mother and queen of all other devotions and the sunlight of piety. Devotion to Mary is good and excellent, but it must tend and be related to devotion to the Eucharist, just as Mary herself tends and is wholly related to Jesus Christ. Scripture fittingly compares her to the moon, which receives all its light from the sun and reflects it back to the sun

Well, since the month of Mary effects so many conversions, produces so much good in souls, and obtains so many graces of every kind, what will not the month of the Most Blessed Sacrament do, since you are asked to honour the virtues, the sacrifices, and the very Person of Jesus Eucharistic? If you know how to direct your readings, aspirations, and virtues to the Eucharist, you shall have won some great victory over yourself by the end of the month. Your love shall have grown; and your grace will be more powerful

Our Lord has said that he who eats His Flesh and drinks His Blood shall have life in him. What will it be if you supplement your sacramental Communion by a continuous communion of thirty days to His love, His virtues, His holiness; and His life in the Most Blessed Sacrament?

That is what we mean by unity in piety. Without it you can have good thoughts, but you will not have a real principle of life. A passing rainstorm merely skims over the soil, but a fine, persistent rain soaks into the earth and makes fertile. The thought, of the Eucharist, fostered consistently for a whole month, will become a rich fountainhead that will make your virtues thrive, a divine force that will make you advance rapidly on the road to holiness. Basing our stand on pure reason and natural philosophy, we can assure you that if you train your mind for one month on the same subject, you will have acquired the habit of it.

Do not fear lest concentration on a single thought narrow your outlook. The Eucharist contains all the mysteries and all the virtues; it offers you the means of making them live anew and of considering them in action in their living exponent, present before you. This greatly facilitates meditation. For you see Jesus Christ in the Eucharist; you see His sacramental garment; you know through your very senses that He is there. The Host speaks to you; it rivets your attention; it presents our Lord to your senses.

May this month then be a month of happiness for you, during which you can live in close intimacy with Jesus. You know His conversation is never boresome. Non habet amaritudinem conversatio Illius.”His conversation hath no bitterness. “May He make you take a giant stride toward sanctity!

HOW should you spend this month in order to derive real profit from it?

You must in the first place have some book on the Blessed Sacrament and read a little of it every day. Do not be afraid of exhausting the subject matter; the depths of the love of Jesus are unfathomable. Jesus is the same in the Eucharist as in heaven; He is ever beautiful, ever new, ever infinite. You need not, fear lest this Infinite source should run dry; Jesus has so many graces, so much glory to give us!

Take a book, therefore, that treats of the Eucharist. I am fully aware that books do not make a saint, and that on the contrary it is saints that make good books. For this reason I recommend books only as a means to instruct you and awaken thoughts in you, which you are to develop and use as food for meditation.

Take for example the fourth book of’the Imitation of Christ. It is so beautiful! It must certainly have been an angel that composed it!

Take the Visits to the Blessed Sacrament, by Saint Alphonsus de Ligouri. When this book was first published, it revolutionised piety. It has produced and continues every day to produce the most abundant fruits of salvation.

There are so many others to choose from. Pick one out that pleases you. Drop your other devotions during this month; you will loose nothing by plunging wholly into the sun.

Pay more frequent and longer visits to Blessed Sacrament.

Receive Communion with greater fervour.

Practise some virtue that is related to the state of Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament: silence, or His meekness, especially His life of prayer in His Father, and His self-abasement.

Make some special sacrifice for the Blessed Sacrament. Have some fresh flower to offer Him every day. He deigns to let us draw near His adorable Person to present our offering to Him. Indeed, the great ones of earth are not so easy to approach. Let us not reject his favour of His love and our right as children of the family.

I sum up what I said: To spend this month well you must practise a Eucharistic virtue and do some reading on the Blessed Sacrament. That is more necessary than you think. With a book, you will have new ideas. Without a book, you will fall into spiritual dryness, saying the same things over and over again. . . . . . ut jumentum. (“I am become as a beast before Thee.”) The book alone is nothing; but if you draw it close to your heart, you will give it life. Holy Writ itself must be read with the heart; if it is read without faith or love, it will be a source of ruin for us just as it hardens the heart of certain unbelievers who read it every day.

Perhaps you will say: “I do not like books because I do not find in them everything my soul is seeking for. They do not satisfy me.” It is fortunate they do not. It would be a great pity if books were to constitute our whole prayer and be exhaustive of all we have to say; we would become mere talking machines. Our Saviour will not let books satisfy us altogether in prayer. We must earn His grace by our own labour, at the sweat of our brow. Never will the life of a saint, be he the greatest in the Church, entirely suit you. And why? Because you are not that saint; because you have a personal grace adapted to your nature; because you possess a personality of your own which you cannot completely ignore.

Read, therefore, but expect the full fruit of your reading only from your own meditation.

“I would indeed make my adoration, or a visit, but I cannot come to the church during the day.” Do not let that stop you. Our Lord sees as far as your home; He listens to you from His tabernacle. He can see us from heaven; why could He not see us from the Sacred Host? Adore Him from where you are; you will make a good adoration of love, and our Lord will understand your desire.

It would indeed be unfortunate if we could be in touch with Jesus Eucharistic only in His churches. The light of the sun envelops and illumines us even when we do not stand directly beneath its rays. In the same way, from His Host our Lord will find the means to send some rays of His love into your home to bring you warmth and strength, There are currents in the supernatural order as in the natural. Do you not at times feel unexpectedly recollected and transported with love? The reason is you have come upon a beneficent ray, a current of grace. Have confidence in these currents, in these relations that can be had with Jesus, even from a distance. It would be a sad thing were Jesus to receive adorations from us only when we come to visit Him in church. No, no! He sees everywhere, He blesses everywhere, He unites Himself everywhere to those who want to communicate with Him. Adore Him therefore from everywhere; turn in spirit toward His tabernacles.

Let your thoughts, therefore, be for Him during this month! Let your virtues and your love remain in this divine centre, and this month will be one of blessings and graces.

THE EUCHARISTIC VOCATION

“If Christians continue abandoning Jesus Christ in His temple, will not the Heavenly Father withdraw from them His Beloved Son, Whom they thus despise? Has He not already so withdrawn Him from many kings and peoples, now bewailing their lot sitting in the very shadow of death? To ward off this greatest of all calamities, let faithful souls aris e and unite! Let them become adorers in spirit and in truth of Jesus Christ in the Most Blessed Sacrament! Let them form a guard of honour around the Sovereign of Kings. And a devoted court around the God of love.

—St Peter Julian Eymard.

Imprimi Potest:

ARTHUR J ALPHONSE PELLETIER, S.S.S.,

Nihil Obstat:

ARTHUR J. SCANLAN, S.T.D.,

Imprimatur:

@ PATRICK CARDINAL HAYES Archbishop of New York,

Imprimatur:

+ DANIEL MANNIX, D.D., Archiepiscopus Melbournensis.

October 27, 1944

********

Eugene De Mazenod

FOUNDER OF THE OBLATES OF MARY IMMACULATE

BY PHILIP ROONEY

INDEX

I

Missionary of Provence

It was a moment of decision. A very few hours earlier, on the morning of 21st December, 1811, Eugene de Mazenod had been ordained a priest, at Amiens. And now the Bishop of Amiens had offered the newly ordained priest the post of Vicar General of the diocese. It was an appointment which carried with it the promise of episcopal succession.

To Eugene de Mazenod, then in his twenty-ninth year, the proffered appointment gave the promise of fruitful years of priestly service at a moment when the Church, so lately emerged from the darkness and terror of life in France under the Revolution, faced the problems and uncertainties of existence under the rule of the Emperor Napoleon.

It was, too, an appointment which promised the young Father de Mazenod a dignity of rank and place in keeping with the centuries old traditions of his family in the service of France. But to Eugene de Mazenod his duty seemed elsewhere, his life’s work of a different kind. He returned to his native Provence, to the city of Aix.

For just under 300 years the family of de Mazenod had put their roots deep in the soil of Provence. As long since as 1529 a de Mazenod had established himself at Marseilles and had laid the foundations of a family fortune in the pharmaceutical trade. By the mid-eighteenth century a de Mazenod had become one of the leading notabilities in the legal profession in Marseilles. 1n 1789, that year in which the storming of the Bastille had thrown open the flood gates of revolution in France, the father of the nine-years-old Eugene, Charles Antoine de Mazenod, was Chief Justice of the High Courts at Aix and, by right of office and of election, one of the Nobility of Provence and a delegate to the Estates-General, the Parliament of France.

It was Charles de Mazenod’s very brilliance as a lawyer which brought the family’s fortune to destruction in the storms of violence out of which came Revolution. When, in 1789, King Louis XVI summoned for the first time in 175 years the Nobility and Clergy and Commons, the three Estates or groups which comprised the French Parliament, and decreed that the Commons should have as many delegates as the Nobility and Clergy together, the Provincial Assembly of Provence at once protested. Hitherto each Estate had had an equal voting strength; any change, protested the Provençals, would be a violation of the Constitution of Provence solemnly guaranteed when the province was annexed to the Crown of France under Louis XI.

To the lawyer de Mazenod was assigned the task of arguing the Provencal case before the King. He pleaded his cause with so great a measure of success that he earned the furious enmity of Mirabeau, that strange man of genius and of violence, about whom gathered the turbulent forces of revolt in Marseilles and throughout the Midi. No man could stand against the fury which it was in Mirabeau’s power to unleash by the flamboyant fevour of his oratory and the sheer magnetism of his personality. Against Charles de Mazenod that fury was unleashed in all its terrifying violence; by a hairsbreadth the spokesman of the Provincial Assembly escaped the death which had overtaken four of his colleagues at the hands of Mirabeau’s followers. He fled into exile.

For the child, Eugene de Mazenod, there began then those years of exile during which -as is so often the way of exiles-he put down his roots spiritually into the soil of that homeland from which he had been physically driven. In Nice, in Turin, in Venice, in Palermo, he grew to young manhood, remembering Provence. In exile he attained out of the piety of adolescence to a faith and fervour which were to be the twin keystones of his spiritual life.

VOCATION

He was in his twentyfirst year when, with Napoleon’s election as First Consul for life, it became possible for him to return to Aix. The city of Aix to which he came home was a city on which the years of turmoil and revolution had laid a blighting shadow. Napoleon’s reconstruction-of the country’s civil institutions had restored the Church, but in Aix the returned exile found the church in which he had been baptised a shattered ruin and the parishes of the city without priests to replace those done to death or banished into exile. Spiritually, the city was a desert, the faith of its people dead or dying. And side by side with spiritual poverty went material hunger and destitution which appalled the sensitive mind of the young de Mazenod. The Aix he had known and treasured in memory during his years of exile had been warm and bright with the ease and elegance of wealthy family life. Now the reality was of a poverty of soul and body that cried out for aid. To Eugene de Mazenod there seemed here to his hand a cause more urgent and compelling than the task of restoring the ruined fortunes of his family. He had found his vocation.

In the October of 1808 he entered the seminary of St. Sulpice, in Paris. In the December of 1811 he was ordained a priest at Amiens. And within the year he had returned for a second time to Aix. In the decision to return was the foreshadowing of his life’s work.

In the pattern of Eugene de Mazenod’s life story that deliberate return to the Midi, to the Provence out of which his family had come, has its illuminating significance. “If grace would make a saint of him,” said the Abbe Bremond, “it would in the strict sense of the word make him a Provençal saint.” That southland of France, sun-warmed, yet with its own rock-ribbed ruggedness, gives its sons a warm humanity, a quick sensitivity, a vivid imagination, a ready tongue. In the young priest, returning to a homeland spiritually and materially impoverished, these qualities of the true Provengal were allied to a tireless drive and dynamic energy, to a rock-firm purpose which would carry him forward against all opposition in any cause to which he had dedicated himself.

The cause which transmitted the warmth of his Provençal nature into a flame of purpose in those spring and summer days of 1812 was the cause of the forgotten men of the Midi, of the workers, artisans, servants, slum-dwellers and beggars of Aix; the cause of the common people whose common bond was a starvation of soul and body.

Because he was himself a Provençal, Eugene de Mazenod instinctively sensed one of the greatest stumbling blocks which lay across the path to spiritual regeneration of the common people of Aix. This instinctive understanding went back, perhaps, to Lenten days shortly after he had first returned from exile.

During those Lenten days Eugene de Mazenod was one of the congregation which crowded a church in Aix to hear a famous preacher. Renowed for his oratory, the preacher chose such themes as the story of the creation, of the deluge, of the plagues of Egypt, subjects which moved the imagination of his almost wholly aristocratic audience without unduly stirring its conscience. ,

The grandeur of the preacher’s themes was matched by his language. He was an orator in the grand style. He spoke with an elegance and grace and colour which charmed his listeners whose common language was French, whose pride was in their familiarity with the classic poets and romantic novelists of France. He spoke in French of outstanding clarity and accent. But to the ordinary people of Aix, to the little shopkeepers and tradesmen and artisans and labourers and servants, he did not speak at all; for their native tongue was Provençal, and of French they knew no more than a stray word, an occasional mispronounced phrase.

“Here are people in dire need of the word of God, and the Gospel is not preached to them in a language they understand,” the youthful de Mazenod told himself, moved to a full-hearted indignation by this deprivation of a people whose fate seemed always destined to be spiritual and material starvation. “One day I shall fill this need.”

HIS FIRST SERMON

And now the time had come to redeem that promise. In the Lent of 1813, eager to put his plans to the test, but as yet unsure of his capabilities, he began a series of Lenten talks at the church of the Madeleine, in the heart of a working-class parish, to a congregation of housemaids, washerwomen, domestic servants, porters, unskilled workers from the kitchens, the stables, the warehousesand the warehouse yards. His opening words foreshadowed his life’s mission:

“During this holy period of Lent there will be many talks for the rich. Are there to be none for the poor? The Gospel must be taught to all men, and in a fashion easily understood. The poor are precious members of the Christian family and cannot be abandoned. The poor of Christ, all you whom misery disheartens, my brothers, my dear brothers, my esteemed brothers, listen to me. You are the children of God, the brothers of Jesus Christ, the co-heirs of His eternal kingdom . . .”

So began his first sermon, spoken in the Mother tongue of those who listened to him-in Provençal, the language of the congregation which crowded the vast church in the six o‘clock half-light of that Lenten morning.

And the crowds did not dwindle or fall away after that first morning of heart-warming discovery by a people who had found their pastor-as that pastor had found his people. The poor of Aix had found a pastor who spoke a language they understood, not merely the rich, vivid language of the tongue which was their dearest heritage and proudest badge of individuality-but also a language of the heart which spoke to them in love and charity and without patronage or condescension.

MISSION TO THE POOR

Success brings its own problems, and the great problem which the success of those Lenten lectures of 1813 brought to the young priest was that of meeting the demands of the many who were eager to share the joy of those who had crowded to hear him preach those first sermons.

Ragged, often hungry, poor in soul and body, they thronged to the Missions he preached. But in a city and its hinterland where five out of every ten citizens had fallen away from the Sacraments and had ceased to hear Mass; where children grew to young manhood and young womanhood without making their First Communion; where so few priests laboured amongst so many, that thousands had not the opportunity of even speaking to a priest from one year’s end to the next: the single-handed work of one preacher was not enough. More was wanted.

To Father Eugene de Mazenod-a realist whose sense of realism always expressed itself in seeing not the magnitude of the obstacle but the straightforward methods which would help to overcome that obstacle-what was needed was plain enough: if more Missions were to be preached, then he would need more helpers to work with him in the preaching of them.

When he obtained the permission of his episcopal superiors to find helpers to assist him in the preaching of Missions, Eugene de Mazenod had no immediate plan or intention of founding a new religious society, bound by vows of poverty, chastity and obedience. He looked first for companions to share in his work; and out of that original intention came the grouping together in community life of those priests who were to become known as “The Missioners of Provence.”

FATHER MISSIONERS OF PROVENCE

The Curé of Arles, Father Tempier, was his first helper and associate; their first community house-an old Carmelite convent, shabby and gone to seed, within a stone’s throw of the graceful and elegant town house of the de Mazenods in which Father Eugene had been born.

Indeed, there is something almost comically grandiloquent about the use of so dignified a term as “community house” for the shabby, one-time convent of the Carmelites to which Father de Mazenod and Father Tempier came to live. Part of the old building served as a lodging house of the cheaper sort; and the portion reserved to the use of the two priests was no more than a single large room.

It was a room of such stark and pitiless poverty that, in some odd way, it somehow conveys in description less a picture of the bare, austere simplicity of deliberate asceticism than the unrelieved outline of desperate and utterly comfortless destitution and want. A smouldering fire in a yawning fireplace belched smoke back from faulty chimneys until all the room was filled by a sooty fog that turned brightest day into the perpetual twilight of a fox’s den. For a table the two priests made do with a plank supported by two barrels; but in later years, when Eugene de Mazenod recalled that makeshift table, it was to remember with characteristic cheerfulness that from it they “used to eat with relish the small share of food that fell to each one.”

As for Father Tempier, when he recalls that room of their early beginnings, it was to remember with brisk satisfaction that the two first tenants of the room did not long have it to themselves. Within a month-in the February of 1816-they were joined there by Fathers Mye, Deblieu and Icard. And now, a team of five priests strong, they were ready to start their apostolic work.

For their first combined missionary operation, they chose the town of Grans. It was a market town of some 1,500 inhabitants, and the pattern of its spiritual life-or lack of spiritual life-was one which the “Missioners of Provence” were to see repeated again and again throughout the Midi.

Of its fifteen-hundred people, scarcely a score had fulfilled their Easter duties. So few of the parishioners ever bothered to cross the threshold of the parish church to pray, to confess or to assist at Sunday Mass, that episcopal decision to close the church for lack of use seemed unlikely to be long delayed. The town was a centre of spiritual paralysis; to revive it, spiritually, was a task to appal the imagination of any but the most dedicated of men.

Yet it was the very magnitude of the task which seems to have spurred Father de Mazenod and his companions to efforts straining human strength and endurance to the very limits-and beyond.

Again, as in Aix, the church was thronged, but not only for sermon and lecture. Almost from the very first day of the Mission, lines and queues of men and women began to form about the confessionals. Virtually all the penitents were working people; great numbers of them worked from dawn to dusk and so would not be free to join the queues until late evening, when crowds would already have gathered, or in the hour after the first of the morning Masses when, again, the crowds would be so great that many would have to leave for work before their turn came.

Here was the kind of difficulty which Eugene de Mazenod, down through the years, was to deal with in a fashion so forthright and decisive that once he had acted, people scarcely remembered that there ever had been a problem to solve.

At three o‘clock in the morning each one of the confessionals in the church at Grans was occupied by a confessor. During twenty out of the four and twenty hours that followed, confessors remained at their posts. There were Masses and sermons and lectures; there were visitations to the sick; and all through the day penitents came in long unending lines. And this pattern was repeated day after day, week after week, for the full month of that Mission in Grans.

That year of 1816 was a year of beginnings. Two further Missions were preached that year. In the half-dozen years that followed, four and twenty Missions were preached. Missions were preached in Arles and Marseilles and Aix, cities with which Father de Mazenod and some of his associates had strong connections; but for the most part, the Missioners of Provence laboured in the rural districts and in the country towns, areas in which their work was amongst the poor and the peasants. And everywhere the pattern of work which was established at Grans was repeated; so, too, was the pattern of reward which showed itself, in varying degree, in crowded churches and beseiged confessionals.

A LIFE OF HARDSHIP

It was a life of hardship. The hardship was not merely a matter of rough living and poor lodging, as when, at Rognac during the bitter days of a winter long memorable for its harshness, the Missioners, Fathers Tempier and Mye, were given, through either the poverty or the inhospitality of their hosts, only a pile of straw to sleep upon and fare so frugal that their Superior was moved to alarmed comment. It was the hardship of ceaseless, unrelenting toil; and even though new labourers joined the little band, the task of preaching, of confessing, of visiting, for month-long after month-long spell imposed crushing burdens on the willing backs of the Missioners of Provence.

In that life of labour-a life sweetened by the unmistakable signs of a reawakening faith amongst the people of the Midi-Father de Mazenod played a leader’s part. His was not merely the leadership of dynamic action, although his sheer activity set a standard that spurred his colleagues to unremitting effort. He undertook personally the direction of almost every one of the Missions during those early fruitful years. His leadership created, too, an inspiring model for those to whom the preaching of a Mission was a new thing.

THE BORN ORATOR

He was a born orator, whose gift of oratory was fired and forged and tempered in the ardent flame of his belief that he had found the Divine purpose in his life-the bringing of the Gospel to the poor.

All his gifts and talents seemed to be shaping themselves towards that end. When he spoke to a congregation of Provençqal peasantry he seemed to put himself unhesitatingly and directly in communication with his listeners, speaking face to face, as it were, with each individual man and woman, making the message that was for all a message charged with significance for each single soul.

They came, these people of the poor, to the churches of the Midi to hear a great preacher. He was a great preacher, but with a greatness that owed nothing to the fashions and conventions of the oratory of his time. He did more than speak the dialect that was their own, he spoke it with the vividness and colour and fire of one to whom this tongue was, as it was to every one of them, a warm and living tongue.

There was much, too, of their own quicksilver temperament in the style and manner of a preacher whose sermons had the light and shade, the swift interplay of mood, of thundering sternness and sunny persuasiveness that were warp and woof of the Provençal character.

Sermon after sermon he preached, never from prepared and remembered texts or from notes, but always spontaneously, improvising with a fluent and easy grace that allowed no barrier to stand between him and his listeners. Hearing and watching him, his fellow workers found a model and learned something, but not all, of the gift that won men back to God.

THE INNER LIFE

Something but not all; for the power of preaching sermons and the talent for directing Missions were no more than the outward signs of the inner life which made Eugene de Mazenod the “fisher of men” he had become. “It was not upon his natural gifts that Father de Mazenod relied to convert souls,” says his latest biographer, “but rather upon the strength of prayer and penance. Though he slept but five hours a night, he rigorously kept the days of fasting and abstinence even when the Mission took place in Lent.”

He himself showed his full awareness of the gifts that were truly needed by the preacher and missioner who would bring the Gospel to men when, at the very outset of their missionary work, he talked with Father Tempier.

“If it were only a matter of preaching well or badly the word of God,” he said, “to run about the countryside without going to the trouble of making ourselves interior men, really apostolic men, I think it would not be too difficult to replace you. But, do you believe thatI want that rubbish?”

He wanted more, very much more from his co-workers than willingness, however eager, to follow the routine and humdrum life of preaching in town after town, very much more than the uncomplaining acceptance of the grinding labour of pulpit and confessional. In the words of Father Tempier, he wanted men “ready to follow in the footprints of the Apostles, to work for the salvation of souls without expecting any other reward on earth but pain and fatigue.”

Such men he sought, and many such he found. But a further step forward on his path of purpose was not made until the autumn of 1818. In the August of that year occurred an event which made him reconsider the composition and standing of his group of helpers: he was offered the gift of a house in the Upper Alps, at Notre Dame de Laus.

All through the early days of their work together, the group of priests who became known as “The Missioners of Provence,” returned after each season of work in the Mission field to the old Carmelite convent, where Fathers de Mazenod and Tempier relished those frugal meals, eaten from makeshift table of rough planks in a sulphurous fog of smoke.

Here they rested and recuperated after the weeks of grinding toil that each Mission entailed. Here they lived a community life; here they prayed, studied, officiated in the convent chapel, devoted regular hours to recollection and meditation.

They lived in community in that one-time community home of the Carmelites; but they themselves were not a community united by any vows. Unity of ideals, the influence of Father de Mazenod, who became their Superior by common consent; mutual charity; a simple agreement; these were the only bonds that bound the Missioners of Provence.

A COMMUNITY RULE

And now, with the house of Notre Dame de Laus ready to become a community house, Father de Mazenod and his helpers prepared for that step which they had long pondered and meditated and prayed for. The Superior was called upon to formulate a rule, a code of laws by which the community should live.

So it was done. In the October of that year, Father de Mazenod placed before his fellow workers the Rules and Constitution which were to transform the group of Mission workers and preachers into a religious Congregation in the fullest sense.

Not all of the priests who had joined with Father de Mazenod for the primary purpose of preaching the Gospel to the poor of Provence were convinced of the wisdom or the desirability of making their simple federation of Missioners a new religious society, fully and duly constituted and demanding by its rules and vows a far greater and more definite engagement than had been entailed by the simple agreement which had hitherto bound the band of preachers. But when, in the closing days of 1818, the little community met to deliberate and vote upon the Constitution which would bind the future Missioners of Provence, all but two of the ten priests and scholastic brothers consecrated themselves to God by perpetual oblation.

II

MISSIONARY OF MARY IMMACULATE

Yet another half-dozen years were to pass before Eugene de Mazenod took the next great step forward in the progress of the work which had begun so humbly and unostentatiously in that stark, poverty-marked room in the old house of the Carmelites.

Time and again he had pondered the possibility of seeking for the new Society, its work and Rules and Constitution, the solemn approval and approbation of the Holy See. At first a prudent realisation of the many difficulties involved in such a formal application made him put off the final decision. But by the winter of 1825 he had become convinced that the seal of Papal Approbation must now be sought if the Society he had founded was to achieve stability and strength. The first days of November saw him on his way to Rome.

VISIT TO ROME

Out of the formal journal of his days in Rome which he later wrote, but even more warmly in the letters which he sent by almost every post to Father Tempier, comes a vivid picture of those momentous days in the history of the Society-and an even more vivid picture of the founder of the Society.

Not many days in Rome were to pass before he discovered how very right he had been in thinking that the task of obtaining Papal approbation for the Society would be a lengthy and difficult one, calling for unlimited patience and pertinacity in enduring the delays and postponements and refusals that are an inevitable part of the delicate process of considering pleas and passing judgment on them. ,

“I called on Cardinal de Gregorio,” he wrote, “and presented letters from Turin which recommended me to him in glowing terms; he received me in a most friendly way, invited me to dinner and was exceedingly courteous. But he assured me he. does not believe that the Pope would grant us a formal approbation.”

Here was disappointment indeed; but neither then nor later was there the least hint of complaint or regret in Father de Mazenod’s letters. In that very letter he is content to state the Cardinal’s adverse opinion; and then he goes briskly and cheerfully on to detail the steps he is taking to turn temporary defeat into lasting victory. The Cardinal Vicar is visited, and a promise extracted to have the case of the Missioners of Provence specially mentioned to the Holy Father. Friendly relations are established with the Secretary of Propaganda. The Master of the Chamber has to be reminded to arrange the all-important audience with the Pope. And in the midst of all this ceaseless activity, Father de Mazenod summons up sufficient sardonic humour to welcome the rigorous Black Fasts of Quarter Tense in Rome, since fasting makes it possible for him to dine on a morsel of fish and half a lemon, and so avoid allowing his hosts to realise his typically French opinion of Roman cooking, the Roman use of “the detestable oil which people from Provence find it absolutely impossible to stomach.”

A CRITICAL DAY

For a little while it seemed that all his ceaseless and exhausting activities were not bringing Father de Mazenod closer to his goal. Five days before Christmas he woke one morning to realise that this day was the last day of the year for audiences. Something would have to be done quickly if his visit to Rome were not to be extended indefinitely. And something was done. Let Father de Mazenod himself tell us what it was:

“One fine day I made up my mind. Having borrowed the doyen’s carriage, I arrived at the Vatican, in full dress. The first person I met-a minor prelate-advised me not to wait; it would be quite impossible for me to see His Holiness that day; a whole flock of Cardinals would arrive, and Ministers and goodness knows who else; it would be better to put off my visit to the beginning of the New Year.

“As he withdrew, Monsignor Barberini arrived and I explained my position to him and reproached him for having put me in a difficulty by his forgetfulness. Somewhat embarrassed by my gentle rebuke, .but admitting its justice, he invited me to enter the salon. Having the status of both a prelate and a gentleman, I forthwith went into the room next to the Pope’s office, the room where Cardinals, Bishops, other prelates and Ministers wait their turn for audience.

“I was in good heart that day, although I was fasting. Mgr. the Secretary of Briefs was the first to be called, but I was not dismayed by his huge purple bag. Nor by the satchel, equally well filled, of Cardinal Pacca, Prefect of the Congregation of Bishops and Regulars. Alas! I thought, some day it may be our turn to be shut up in that satchel.

“Each of these spent an hour with the Pope. The Bishop Almoner, who distributes the Pope’s charities, and the priest who is Master of the Sacred Palace had appointments for that day, but the interviews were short.

“Who would be called next? The Father General of the Dominicans-the poor man was ravenously hungry-would have wagered it would be his turn. But not at all! I was called. You know how dignified I am? Well, I maintained my dignity till I got to the door, but I dropped it then, and did not assume it again till I came out.

“The Pope received me in his small bedroom. He was seated on a couch, and before him was a desk on which he leaned. On entering, I made the first genuflexion, as is the custom; but between the door and the place where he sat, there was not room to make a second one. So, all at once, I was kneeling before him . . .”

With that vividly evocative and warm-hearted introduction to the story of his first audience with Pope Leo XII, Father de Mazenod goes on, in high delight, to tell Father Tempier how far from the pessimistic forecasts of his advisers, who saw little hope of the Sovereign Pontiff granting his request, was the kindness and courtesy which the Pope showed to him in an audience which was extended to last nearer a full hour than the allotted time of half an hour.

THE POPE’S REACTION

He tells of the Pope’s interest in his account of the founding of the Missioners of Provence and of their work during the years past. Then, with joy, he tells of the Pope’s reaction to his request for formal approval of the Rules and Constitution of the Society. He writes:

“It almost seemed as if he wanted to apologize for not granting by a stroke of the pen what I knew well could only be given after lengthy formalities were complete.

““You know,” he said, addressing me all the time in the third person, “you know the customs of the Holy See. The procedure today is the same as was followed a hundred years ago. The Secretary of the Congregation will make a report to me on this matter. I shall appoint a Cardinal to examine it; he will report to the Congregation; each Cardinal will give his vote . . . “

“Lest I should forget the name of the Secretary he had mentioned, he was kind enough to get me a sheet of paper, and he gave me a pen and dictated;

““Call on the Archpriest, tell him you come from me, and that he is to make his report on Friday.””

This was success beyond Father de Mazenod’s most optimistic dreams. But it was only a beginning. The project had been set in motion, but there was much yet to do before the seal of Papal approbation would be finally set upon the Rules and Constitution of the Society.

The winter of 1825 was to give way to the spring of 1826, Christmas to Lent, Lent to Easter, and Whitsuntide to be no more than days away before Father de Mazenod had completed, single-handed, the tremendous task of piloting the project through the maze of protocol and legal formality designed to save final decision from any chance of error.

From Cardinal Major Penitentiary to Cardinals of Congregation, from Archpriest to Auditor, he went, discussing, planning, interviewing, preparing voluminous replies to multitudinous questions. There were days when even the weather of a Roman Spring seemed to conspire against him, striking down with illness a Cardinal whose attendance was vital to the investigations ordered by the Pope. There were days when all progress was held up because some major domo or house servant could not be bothered to attend to the instructions of this plain priest from Provence in his shabby soutane and mended boots.

But Father de Mazenod did not allow himself to be discouraged, disappointed or deflected from his purpose. He had sources of patience and of strength.

“I spent last night before the Blessed Sacrament,” he wrote to Father Tempier, “which remains exposed during the two nights of the Forty Hours devotion.”

CHEERFUL POVERTY

His cheerfulness during those tiring days was inexhaustible. He could, in his letters, find the humour to conjure up a wry smile at the poverty which added to the worries of delay.

“I did not dare approach Tarlonia for so small a sum as one hundred Roman crowns,” he wrote, “so I drew it from M. Curani. I shall ask my uncle to settle this.

“I used this money to pay my debts; I owed two months board and lodgings to the people with whom I stay. Clothes are my real worry. You should see how I try to make them last. I take advantage of the dry weather to wear out my old breeches; there are holes in them, here, there, and everywhere, but my soutane covers all. But, if it rained, I would have to gather up my soutane, and then my raggedness would be only too visible. If I hadn’t to appear so frequently before Cardinals, Iwould wear my old soutane all the time, for its wrinkles would be hidden by my coat.”

But in the end all the pains and penalties and poverty, all the exasperating delays of protocol, all the incivilities of stewards and servants were gloriously made good to him.

On February 15th the Cardinals of Congregation met in the palace of the Cardinal Prefect to complete their deliberations. That morning, in the Church of St. Mary in Campitelli, Father Eugene de Mazenod heard nine successive Masses. In the early evening came the decision of the Cardinals: the Rules of the Society had been unanimously approved. Three days later, Father de Mazenod wrote:

“My dear friend, my dear brothers: Yesterday evening, the 17th February, 1826, the Sovereign Pontiff, Leo XII, confirmed the decision of the Congregation of Cardinals, and gave specific approval to the Institute, the Rules and the Constitution of the Missionary Oblates of the Most Holy and Immaculate Virgin Mary.”

Even after the Papal approbation of the Society, and the choice by the Pope himself of the name by which the Society would henceforth be known, Eugene de Mazenod’s work in Rome was not ended. It was mid-May before all the necessary formalities were completed-formalities which entailed further rounds of calls and interviews, long periods in session with secretaries of Committees, periods of actual transcribing to save the cost of a professional copyist. It was more than half a year after his departure to Rome before Father de Mazenod was re-united with his brothers of the Oblates of Mary Immaculate.

III

MISSIONARY BISHOP

“Rome’s unhoped for approbation was a cause of intense joy for Father de Mazenod,” writes a recent biographer. “It sanctioned his most cherished and valued project. Through a series of circumstances, whose meaning he did not even suspect, he had to abandon the missionary career and enter another field of Apostolate.”

Abandon seems scarcely the apt word; for Eugene de Maz enod’s close ties with and abiding interest in the Society which he founded were to last till the end of his days. But in the six years following the Papal approbation it is true that a further dimension was added to his labours; his life’s work was woven in a pattern which found its ultimate form in his elevation to the Episcopacy.

The year of that elevation was 1832. Pope Gregory XVI was on the throne of St. Peter, and from him came the summons which brought the founder of the Oblates of Mary again to Rome. He was summoned to Rome so that the Holy Father might personally judge the fitness of the one who had been recommended as a suitable auxiliary Bishop of Marseilles.

The judgment was favourable. Nominated Titular Bishop of Icosie in North Africa by Pope Gregory, Eugene de Mazenod was consecrated in St. Sylvester’s Church in Rome on October 14th, 1832.

A DIFFICULT SITUATION

The manner of Monsignor de Mazenod’s elevation to the episcopacy was to have repercussions which threatened the very existence of the See. The new rulers who had come into power in France in 1830 had claimed the right to alter and redraw the boundaries of the French dioceses. In fact, a Concordat existed between France and the Holy See by which it was agreed that the candidates for bishoprics in France would be presented by the State. But there were special considerations attaching to the appointment of a Bishop to the See of Marseilles.

After the revolution of 1830 the municipal authorities appointed under the new regime claimed that the Bishop of Marseilles and his clergy had opposed the revolution and favoured the overthrown government. In retaliation they called for the suppression of the See of Marseilles and, indeed, a resolution to this effect was passed by the local District Council of Marseilles in 1831 and submitted to the central government in Paris. In these circumstances it was thought that there was little likelihood of the French Government looking favourably on the appointment as auxiliary Bishop of Marseilles of Eugene de Mazenod, a nephew of Monsignor Fortune de Mazenod, the Bishop so very much out of favour with the authorities.

So the need for secrecy arose. The choice of the North African territory of Icosie was made deliberately so that it could be claimed that Father de Mazenod was not raised to a French See in fiat defiance of the French Government. As a further precaution, the announcement of the consecration of the new Bishop was not made known for almost a year.

But none of this saved the new Bishop from envenomed attack. He was accused of having accepted a bishopric without the approval of the State. He was charged with being leader of a political group opposed to the Government. Charges were laid against him through diplomatic channels at the Vatican. But the Holy Father, having heard the Bishop’s defence, dismissed all the charges as unfounded. Once again Eugene de Mazenod returned from Rome, heart-warmed by the friendship and confidence of a Pope. Once again he could remind his brethren of the Society he had founded that: “The Oblates are the Pope’s men.”

With his elevation to the episcopate, the life story of Eugene de Mazenod becomes woven in a two-fold strand. He himself sets down in homely words his conception of a Bishop’s duties:

“In these days,” he wrote, “one rarely finds any true idea of what it is to be a bishop according to the teachings of our Faith and the institutions of our Divine Saviour. Nowadays a bishop is shut up in his study, writing out dispensations or answering letters. If he sometimes makes his appearance in a parish, it is because he alone can give Confirmation. If it were not for Confirmation he would hardly be seen among the people; and it might happen that during the whole course of an episcopal career not a soul had ever given an account of duty fulfilled or neglected to the representative sent by Jesus Christ to dwell in the midst of His people.”

A LONG EPISCOPATE

During the nine and twenty years of his episcopate, Monsignor de Mazenod did, indeed, dwell in the midst of his people of the See of Marseilles. He, who loved the quiet of the study and the library, now gave himself to the public life of his diocese. He was there in the churches of Marseilles at all the solemn functions of the Church. In the streets of Marseilles, and particularly in the poorer streets and alleyways, he became as familiar a sight in his comings and goings as any priest on the rounds of his parish duties. High on the fifth floor of some quayside tenement a child is dying, and through the winter night and the darkened streets the Bishop comes to baptize the child. Through lanes of hovels and cabins the Bishop makes his way to the bedside of an aged woman who has asked to receive the Last Sacraments from his hands. At Easter, in a busy parish to which a new pastor has yet to be appointed, the Bishop comes to undertake the distribution of Communion to the sick. During the many epidemics of cholera which swept 19th century Marseilles, Monsignor de Mazenod was to be found in hospital and fever ward, by the bedside of the dying. And when those about him implored him to husband his strength and to leave such active work to other and younger men, he had a ready answer

“I find my happiness in pastoral work. It is for this that I am a bishop, and not to write books, still less to pay court to the great, or to waste my time amongst the rich. It is true,” he added with a smile, “that this is not the way to become a Cardinal; but if one could become a saint, would it not be better still?”

And always Eugene de Mazenod remembered that early resolve of his that the poor amongst his people should have the Gospel preached to them in a language they could understand. He preached in all his pastoral visits to the city churches; at Confirmations he preached to the children and to their parents and god-parents; he preached each Monday in his own chapel, and in all churches where he said Mass or presided at religious functions. And when on visitation throughout the Midi he remembered that long-ago preacher of shining phrase and Parisian eloquence and preached his own sermons in Provençal.

The value of a bishop’s episcopate is not to be measured in figures and statistics, but it is a fact that illuminates Monsignor de Mazenod’s work for his people that in the years between 1823 and 1861, no fewer than twenty-two new parishes rose up in the diocese; twenty-six other churches, including the Cathedral itself, were reconstructed, enlarged or repaired. And towering over the waterfront and harbour of Marseilles there began in his episcopate the building of the Basilica of Notre Dame de la Garde.

THE FOREIGN MISSIONS

The spirit of Eugene de Mazenod was not to be confined within the limits of a diocese, devoted to that diocese though he was. Soon other work was opportunely offered to the man whose favourite boyhood reading had been the story of the Chinese missions.

During the summer of 1841 there came to Marseilles the Canadian Bishop, Monsignor Bourget, of Montreal. He had come to Europe to find missionaries to work in the vast mission fields of North America, amongst the Red Indian tribes in Canadian territory. By good fortune Monsignor Bourget’s search brought him to Bishop de Mazenod. The Canadian Bishop explained his need to the French Bishop.

“Missionaries to work amongst the Indian population?” Monsignor de Mazenod said. “But the foreign missions were not in our plans; and besides, I have so few priests whom I could send as Missionaries . . .”

“And I have so many, both white and Indian, who are poor and destitute in soul and body; so many crying out to hear the word of God . . .”

It was the appeal which Eugene de Mazenod had never been able to resist. Once again, as in those days amidst the poor of Aix a quarter of a century before, the call had come to him from the forgotten men of the world; and once again he remembered his long-ago resolution to bring the Gospel to the poor.

That day he put Bishop Bourget’s request before his Oblates. Of the forty-five members of the congregation every one volunteered. But six only were chosen. They embarked at Le Havre on 22nd October, a contingent of four Fathers and two Brothers. It was the beginning of long years of fruitful work in the prairies and wildernesses of Canada.

IV

MISSIONARY TO THE WORLD

The work which began in that October of 1841 with such few numbers soon began to assume larger proportions. Four years later, in 1845, the Bishop of St. Boniface offered the Oblates a territory as large as Europe. Without hesitation Eugene de Mazenod accepted the enormous task of finding Missionaries for that territory.

ALASKA

“I cannot permit of any hold up,” he declared and that firm declaration was the signal for the beginning of the Oblates” epic work in this new land. Slowly at first, and then more quickly as new helpers joined their ranks, the Oblates spread across the prairies, moved onward to the dreary wastes of the Hudson Bay territory, established themselves amongst the Eskimo. By the August of 1859, Father Grollier had reached the Arctic circle at Fort Good Hope, and had gone on to the mouth of the Mackenzie River to become, in the words of Pius IX, one of the first of the “Martyrs of Cold.” Sioux, Cris, Blackfeet and many other tribes had come to know the missionaries whom they called the Oblate Black Robes and the Oblate Bishops whose name amongst the tribes was Great Chiefs of Prayer. The work done by these sons of de Mazenod is, perhaps, aptly summed up by a traveller who visited the western territories in the eighteen-nineties, fifty years after that first band of missionaries had sailed from Le Havre.

“The prairies are left behind, and the fastnesses of the mountains are entered. The Canadian Pacific cars thunder through the passes twice a day; but ten years ago they had been trodden by the feet of no white men with one exception. As the train winds through the magnificent valley of the Frazer, here and there on mountain tops, may be seen, black against the sky, a rude cross which marks an Indian burying ground. At each stage of the journey, from the Atlantic to the Pacific, the Church Universal is seen justifying its title by its adaptability to the nature and needs of each varying community. She observes precisely the same ritual, framed in identical language, for a little band of Blackfeet Indians, kneeling in a log but in the Far West, as she uses for a French congregation in the Basilica at Quebec, or for the Irish immigrants who worship in Toronto Cathedral.”

From that success the Oblates of Mary Immaculate, the Missioners of Provence who became missionaries of the world, can claim, under God, their full share of credit. And the Canadian work of the sons of de Mazenod set a pattern for their labours across the world.

SRI LANKA

The work of the Oblates in Ceylon began with an appeal from the Coadjutor Bishop in Jaffna to Monsignor de Mazenod, asking the founder of the Oblates to send missionaries to help in the work of converting a population of more than one and a half million pagans and of ministering to the 100,000 Catholics on the island. That appeal was at once answered. The first Oblates went to Ceylon in 1847. Today there are almost three hundred Oblates (including a Cardinal) working in Sri Lanka (Ceylon).

“I would like to be able to supply missionaries for the whole world,” the Bishop of Marseilles cried constantly, and so far as it was in his power and the power of his Oblates, he endeavoured to answer every request for missionaries that came to him.

SOUTH AFRICA

Scarcely had his group of missionaries sailed for Ceylon when there was yet another request. This time it came from the Prefect of Propaganda, Cardinal Barnabo, and asked for priests to work in the mission field of South Africa. “How could we refuse that which came from the legitimate voice of the Pope?” Eugene de Mazenod wrote in his diary on receiving that request. And once again he made decisive answer to the request. In the autumn of 1851 Monsignor Allard, consecrated in Marseilles, embarked with three Fathers and a Brother for the port of Natal.

And so the territories, marked by an Oblate Cross, spread across the map of the world. Before the Founder died in 1861, his sons were to be found, to quote Father Cooke, “on the shores of the great Atlantic, amidst the snow-clad pine forests and dismal prairies of the Hudson Bay territory, near the shores of the Polar Sea, amongst the vastnesses of the Rocky Mountains, on the coast of the Pacific, on the plains of Texas, amidst the burning sands of South Africa, on that fairest of the islands of the Indian Ocean, Ceylon. To all these points in Asia, Africa and America did de Mazenod live to see his labours of the Oblates of Mary Immaculate extended.”

ENGLAND, IRELAND, SCOTLAND

The Oblates went to preach their missions in the towns and cities of England and Scotland and Ireland. Typical of their history is the story of their coming to Dublin. In 1857 an Oblate of Mary Immaculate, preaching a mission in Dublin, had sought permission of the Archbishop to commence pastoral work in the Archdiocese. He was granted permission to work in the district of Inchicore. Here more than a thousand families of railway workers lived. Those who had not grown careless of their religious observances heard Mass and confessed and communicated in neighbouring parishes, for they had no church of their own. To them came the Oblate missioner.

AUSTRALIA

In 1845, Bishop Brady of Perth called on the Oblate Founder and asked for missioners for Western Australia. Reluctantly he had to refuse. It was to be fifty years before the Oblates came to Australia, this time at the request of Bishop Gibney of Perth. They came to Fremantle to care for the local people and to open an Industrial School for boys. In 1926, they took over the parish of Sorrento, Victoria. Gradually they spread their pastoral care in parish and mission work throughout Victoria and the other States.

Answering the call of the Bishops for Catholic Education they opened three Colleges through Australia and an Oblate Education Centre in Sydney. To ensure the continuation of their work a House of Studies was opened in Mulgrave, Victoria.

The Oblates have contributed much to the care of the Italian Migrant population especially in Western Australia. Italian speaking or Italian born Oblates have worked among the local population for many years.

In recent years the Oblates have spread to New Zealand and more recently to Indonesia where they work in Jakarta and Central Java.

LAST DAYS

That story of the Oblates, of “the Pope’s men” going out to the ends of the earth, brought comfort to the last hours of the Founder. One day, during his last illness, a letter came from one of the foreign missions of the Order. Told of the letter, he asked if it was a letter that called for his guidance on spiritual matters or on matters of organisation. Told that it was a letter concerned solely with the routine organisation of the missioners, he said that this, now, was a matter which had passed into the hands of others who would carry on the work he had begun. The work of organising and directing his missionaries in the far corners of the world was no longer his concern:

“My only business now,” he said, “is to prepare for a good death.”

Death came to him on the 21st day of May in 1861. As his long, fruitful life of constant prayer and unceasing effort came to its close, he could look with pride on the transformation of a handful of dedicated men labouring in the towns and villages of the Midi into a mighty battalion in the Church’s apostolic army. His Oblates of Mary Immaculate were being faithful to the chosen motto of their Founder: “To preach the Gospel to the poor, He hath sent me.”

HIS WORK TODAY

At the death of the Founder in 1861, his Oblate Congregation numbered just about 500 members. One hundred years later the official total of membership shows an impressive muster of almost 7,000 members spread through 44 countries and pursuing the Ministry of the Gospel in more than 70 differing languages.

The tiny mustard seed planted in the poverty of Aix in January, 1816, has grown to a large Institute in the Church of God-an Institute that knows no boundary or frontier and extends, literally, from Pole to Pole. The legacy of Eugene de Mazenod is large for his sons have, under Providence, been chosen to “inherit the earth” for their portion and the Church, for her part, has shown its approval by proclaiming him, “Blessed”.

Nihil Obstat: BERNARD O”CONNOR, Diocesan Censor

Imprimatur:

@ T. F. LITTLE,

Archbishop of Melbourne

********

Everybody’s Going Steady

BY REV. RAYMOND WAHL

INDEX

ANYONE brash enough to write a pamphlet on “going steady” runs a risk of complete frustration.

In the first place, hundreds of boys and girls who should read it, won’t. They will grimace at the title on the cover and snort, “Ha, some more of that pious prattle.”

In the second place, most of those who do read it will finish with this brilliant and deadly observation: “Not bad- some good ideas in it after all. I”11 have to give Ed and Carol a copy; they really need it. But right now I”d better call Sue to see if she can go to the show with me tonight.”

Young people today aren’t too enthused about pamphlets that tell them not to go steady. And why should they be?

Why, for instance, should Tom and Sue be interested? You know them, don’t you? Tom and Sue are both good Catholic kids, going into their final year in school. Maybe they’re in your class.

TOM . . .

Tom is tall, not a bad athlete, a smooth dancer, does okay in his studies, and comes from a good family. What more could a girl want out, of life?

. . . AND SUE

And Sue is about 5ft. 5in., brunette, nice looking, loves to dance, play tennis, and can have a good time just sitting around at home or talking to a fellow over a coke. She’s just a good all-round girl. Where could a fellow find someone nicer?

Tom and Sue have both dated others before. Tom was wild over a redhead last year, and Sue has dated most of the athletes from her brother’s school.

But somehow, as soon as Tom and Sue met and had their first date, they knew this was different. They danced every piece together that night. The juke box played “Stardust” over and over again and even now, fourteen months later, they still both feel good whenever they hear “our song.” Sue could hardly go to sleep that night, and Tom put an extra wave in his hair the next morning before he rushed off to school.

SO MUCH FUN

That’s how it all began. Since then they have had so much fun together. Sue would cheer Tom on as he struggled out on the football field or she would clap whenever he kicked a goal for the school, and then after the game they’d go out and drink a coke, and he would tell her all about it, and she would sit there, proud, listening intently to her hero. Gee, it was nice for a fellow to have a girl like her.

And the dances, they had never been like this before-the Term Dance, the Easter Carnival, and the School Ball. Tom wore a white jacket and black trousers, and Sue looked like an angel in white net, with a baby pink rose corsage pinned over her heart. The whole night was like a dream come true and when Tom said good night, anal brushed his lips against hers, they knew that even heaven couldn’t be nicer than this. This was it, this was the real thing-they’re going steady.

“BREAK IT UP”

And now somebody comes along and says, “Okay, break it up. You shouldn’t go steady ,you’re missing half the fun of high school days. Go out with a different fellow or girl.”

“Are they crazy? We should break up, just when we’re having a good time? No Sir, Sue and I are going steady and it’s fine with me.”

Okay, that’s their side of the picture, and to them it looks good. Now let’s give the author a chance and see what he has to say. Briefly, it’s this: going steady, for fellows and girls in school,—is poor psychology, unwise, and dangerous. Now don’t throw the pamphlet away. Let me explain.

PSYCHOLOGICALLY POOR

Going steady is poor psychology. When boys and girls are in grade school, the “gang” is everything. A fellow doesn’t think much of himself, but of the kids down the street, or “East Side Mob.” Girls have their “circles” too, but don’t call them by such vulgar names.

But when they get into their teens they rapidly forget about the gang, become more conscious of their own selves; in fact, they become too self-conscious. The young fellow notices that he is an individual, a person. He begins to worry about himself, feel ill at ease when in crowds-, notices that he is too tall and lanky or short and fat, his teeth are poor or complexion bad. He is never really sure of himself when with others. And don’t say that only he is this way. Notice how awkward and clumsy the rest of “the boys” are.

The teen age is the age of personal insecurity, of inner worrying about oneself; the teenager withdraws into himself, is afraid to say much, never knows just how to act, and so he withdraws into his own little shell, like a clam. But even a clam must be brought out of its shell before it can be of any use to anybody.

A SOCIAL BEING

To develop properly into a sane, real man or woman, the boy or girl must come out of himself or herself, and learn to be social. He or she must learn how to act in an easy, friendly manner with all sorts of people. They must learn to be kind to people who like or dislike them, to be at ease with all types, to be able to talk intelligently on many different topics, to forget their own personal troubles, worries, jealousies and angers, by getting interested in others.

The best way to do this is to mix freely with all boys and girls, not to withdraw from the “hard, cruel world” with one friend, but to meet socially and friendly with all. That is good teen-age psychology.

The usual “steadies” fail to do this. They withdraw from their friends; they date, dance, talk to one person, or about only one person. They are satisfied with each other, make no effort to get out and develop socially just at the stage of life when they need most of all to do so. Their other friends see that they want to be alone and so they leave them alone.

CONVENIENT

The more exclusive the two are, the sooner they run out of ideas to exchange, the sooner they take each other for granted. Tom doesn’t have to call Sue three weeks early to arrange a dance. He knows she will be waiting. He can visit her in overalls with unbrushed teeth; she will be there. She doesn’t bother sparking up for Tom any more. She has him “hooked.” No longer must she be at her charming best to secure a date for the dance. She knows she has one with her steady.

How convenient!

True, it is convenient for her; it takes away all worry about a date, but it also takes away the thrill, the excitement, the wonder, of going with a new fellow, which every normal girl should experience often. How flattered Tom would feel if he knew he was being kept around “for convenience sake.”

A DEEP RUT

And so the two go off by themselves, like a tired old married couple, two of a kind in dirty T-shirts and overalls, away from the lively circle of young people, from all the varied friends and” activities that could help them to grow up nor- mally, away by themselves to deepen their own rut.

Soon the thrill of the first dances fades away and Sue imagines that Tom is looking for someone else. She becomes jealous, angry, snobbish with the girl who is trying to cut in. Old girl friends suffer when Sue loses her temper. She hounds out Tom, pouts when out with him, becomes little, catty, and mean. Tom becomes tired and disgusted with her, begins to realize how foolish he has been, how much fun he has missed with the boys, how little he and Sue had in common, and wonders what he ever saw in her in the first place. Let’s hope they break up soon so they can begin to lead normal lives with the crowd again.

Let me finish this first reason for not going steady by asking you to think of a boy you know, say a school boy, who has just brokenup after two years of going steady. Did you ever see a poorer fish out of water? He doesn’t know how to act with anyone else. He has so few friends, he’s shy in the crowd, he’s lost with other girls, he’s in a daze because, he never grew up socially the way he should have in high school. Pity the poor fish!

PRE-ENGAGEMENT PERIOD

Tom and Sue are unwise to go steady so young.

Going steady should be the period in life reserved for the six months before engagement. During that time they get to know more about the one boy or girl they have chosen from the dozens of prospects whom they dated in their young lives. They should have gone with tall and short boys, blondes and brunettes, jovial and serious ones; and from all these they pick an ideal one who is the combination of all that was best in each one of their dates. They have been around-in the best sense of the word-and they know what they want in a husband or wife. Then they go steady for six months with this one, are engaged if they still think this is the one, and finally they get married.

PRESENTLY IMPRACTICAL

That’s the way it should be; so how foolish are the young people in school who go steady. In the first place, they can’t usually be married for at least four or five years. Like it or not, it takes money, education, maturity, and real love to marry today,, not infatuation alone. If you asked me if you should go steady with someone, I would first ask you if you two could get married within a year. If you can’t, because you are too young, or he has no job that pays enough to support a wife and family, or one of you wants to go to study for a few years, don’t go steady.

In the second place, the “steadies” haven’t gone with enough different company to make a sensible choice. Did you ever buy a tie in a store where you had only one necktie to choose from? Of course not! Remember that marriage is important for your temporal and eternal happiness. A wrong choice of partner can give you a hell in, this world and almost certainly in the next. It’s wise to ponder that choice carefully, with plenty of possibilities from which to choose.

MORALLY DANGEROUS

Lastly, and most important, going steady is dangerous for young people.

Let’s look at Tom and Sue again. Remember that night when Tom gently kissed Sue for the first time? That kiss was sacred, a sign of real friendship and affection for both of them, as pure as a mother’s loving kiss for her baby. Would to God it could always stay that way!

But neither of them is a wooden Indian; both are made of flesh and blood; both suffer from original sin; both have passions. The next time they date, that kiss will be repeated. It won’t be long before some of that first thrill wears off, so they kiss a little more ardently to recapture it.

When first they danced together, both were a little stiff. Now Sue can fit snugly into Tom’s enveloping arm. Sue wore a very modest net dress that first formal. Now it is a little less decent.

ENTER SIN

Tom is a little more possessive to show that she is his girl. No longer do they drive straight home after the dance. A brief stop “to talk” in the park, a chat in the car in front of her house becomes the usual routine on the date.

The kisses are oftener, more prolonged, and almost before they realize it the brief sign of affection with less reserve can so easily develop into necking and the protective arm around her can slip into petting. Sin slyly enters in to become a third party to this exclusive couple.

OBJECTION

By now, the reader is objecting strongly, “We’re going steady and we never committed sin together.”

And I agree and say, “Of course, I didn’t mean you, but if you are a man or woman of flesh and blood and you continue to go steady while still at school, I have my doubts about how long you will stay out of sin. One thing just naturally leads to another, until it’s too late. And remember, you don’t have to go all the way to commit serious sin. just that one good-night kiss could be a serious sin if you take impure pleasure from it. But even if your good-night kisses aren’t sinful in themselves, they may cause you to commit sins of thought or desire by yourselves days later. On the date you two just had a little innocent fun together; later, when all alone in your room, you might feel a desire to repeat that fun, and wish you had gone just a little further for the thrill of it. When these thoughts start coming, watch out!

SOFT AND WEAK

“Another thing, going steady may lead one to yield .to temptation to personal sins weeks later. The one who is soft and mushy when on a date, even though he commits no serious sin then, is going to find himself soft and weak in repelling temptations when they come to him while alone. And if he falls, “steady dating will be part of the cause. A person has just one moral life; weaken it by softness, by going as far as possible without committing sin when out with the steady, and you may find yourself too weak when temptation to personal sin comes later.

“And don’t forget, you may not have committed sin, but how about your date? You are both different. You may be showing him affection. He may be taking pleasure that will send his soul to hell. If you really love him, would you want to be the cause of his eternal damnation? You may be, if you continue to go steady.”

COURTSHIP AND MARRIAGE

Some day, patient reader, you will probably be married and raising a family.

To do that well, to have a happy married life, you shall need God’s help. You can be assured of that if you live your courtship days in the pure, clear way that God wants. To help you to do this, I say, don’t go steady in high school. If your boy friend or best girl is to be the one, going out with others will only develop your appreciation for him or her. Dating Mary will prove to you that Sue is the one. If he or she is not to be the one, don’t go steady with him or her. Break it up before it hurts you both, socially now, spiritually forever.

Even after all these arguments against going steady while at school, some of the readers still won’t be convince d. They are wrong, of course, but they will never admit it and will persist in dating their little Sue and only her. So for them, and for the many who are rightly going steady for a few months before engagement, may I offer the following simple rules to keep their dating on the high, decent level where it should be.

PROPER ATTITUDE

First of all, have the right attitude of mind.

As Tom shines his shoes or Sue combs her hair before going out, they should each have the determination in the back of their heads that they are going to walk back into the house through the front door just as pure, clean, and modest as they were when they walked out several hours before. Their date is going to be an evening of real friendship, of enjoyable companionship, of a lotof good clean fun and excitement, not a sickening, passionate destruction of all one’s ideals in a darkened theatre or a parked car somewhere. Both should be more concerned and determined about the question., “How can we keep our dating days pure?” rather than, “How far can I go without committing sin?” As an old song once said, “Accentuate the positive” (I want to be pure) and “Eliminate the negative” (when is necking wrong?).

Tom, as he picks up Sue, is determined to treat her as he would want his own sister to be treated, to respect her as Christ respected His Mother, to be more concerned about protecting her soul than he would be about protecting her body if a thief tried to injure her while they were out together. And Sue realizes that the girl is the one “who sets the tone for the whole evening. If she wears a low-cut dress, clings tightly to Tom like a vine on the darkened dance floor, asks to be taken for a ride around the park and snuggles up to the driver, leaving enough room in the front seat for three other people to get in, she knows what to expect before leaving Tom that evening! Whereas, if she dresses, dances, talks decently and keeps the evening lively, Tom will fall into line and things will work out very well. It’s a dumb girl who can’t handle a “fast fellow.”

And just before they meet each other, their last preparation is not a jerking at a tie or arranging of a rebellious curl, but a thoughtful Hail Mary to the Mother of all young people that they will live up to her ideals for them on this date. Now they’re all set to go out.

THE RIGHT PERSON

Next, the second rule, watch the person with whom you go steady. Be choosey before having a first date with someone; be increasingly more wary the longer you two go together.

Tom seemed like such a good Catholic fellow when he and Sue started dating. But now since they have been going steady for several months, he is getting too familiar. Tom wants to hold hands all through the show, to “park” every time they date. He can see nothing wrong in a few affectionate touches, and Sue is getting worried about him.

She should!

She lightly protests his advances, but he, with the same old line that hundreds before him have used, argues: “Aren’t we going steady any more? The least you can do is let me kiss you. Don’t be a prude; everybody’s doing it,” and Tom pouts like a child and says Sue doesn’t like him trying to play on her sympathy so she will give in.

The fool! If Sue really likes him, she will put her foot down right now and draw a halt to this. She likes him so much that she won’t be responsible for his going to hell. However, if she weakens and gives in to him, one kiss will lead naturally to another, several encourage him to greater liberties, and almost before they realize it, serious sin has slipped into their date life.

WHAT TO DO

What is to be done? Tom and Sue should talk this over right now. They must agree to stop committing the sin at once. If either refuses, and persists in taking these liberties which are themselves sins, or always lead to sin, then the two of them have become occasions of serious sin for each other. In that case they are then bound under pain of mortal sin not even to date each other. Tom knows that if he dates Sue tonight, he will almost certainly commit serious sin with her. Knowing that, he may not even date her. If he does, he commits a mortal sin by just going out with her for he deliberately places himself in the proximate occasion of serious sin.

You know, when we go to confession , we can’t look Christ honestly in the face, tell Him we are sorry for this sin, and yet persist in dating the fellow or girl who was the cause of it. Don’t try to be a hypocrite with Christ. You say you don’t want to sin again; then you must give up the occasion of sin.

FOR PROTECTION

One good way of protecting themselves during the date is for Tom and Sue to have their evening planned before they go out. If they know just where they are going and what they will do, most likely they will do just that. Some people go out and park in the car because they are so intellectually deficient that they don’t have the brains to think of anything better to do.

Another thing, always double-date, and with a good clean couple who will set the right example for you. Sin hates company, and rarely bothers to go along with a crowd. Never double with those whose morals are lower than yours.

PICKING THE PLACE

And thirdly, watch the places where you go. The best couple can go wrong in a dim-lit night-club with loud music and couples playing around them. Even a wooden Indian could sin, in some theatres. Be very careful of the type of movie that you go to. There is so much good entertainment in the world, why bother with trash?

And lastly, stick to cokes and fruit drinks when on a date.They will never cause you to lower the barriers as a “spot” might, nor will they give you the false courage to sin together that three beers might give.

YOUR BEST FRIEND

You know, when Christ was on this earth, He loved young people. He worked His first miracle at Cana for a fellow and girl in love.

Today, He is just as much interested in you and your date as He was in them. Invite Him often into your social life and keep Him there by frequent confession and Communion.-for young people that means weekly.

If Tom and Sue are going to go out together frequently, why not make confession a regular stop on that Saturday night date? Why not a Sunday morning date for Mass and Communion together.

Let Christ go out on every date with you, and He will certainly do His part in seeing that you come back home with Him still in your pure heart.

Nihil Obstat:

BERNARD O”CONNOR, Diocesan Censor

Imprimatur:

@ DANIEL MANNIX,

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis. 3rd. June, 1963

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Everyone Must Pour Himself Into Another Soul

BY FRANK DUFF

INDEX

I am going to write about your destiny and about your idealism and about the sort of spirituality you should have. It is essential that I do so, because the Legion is Our Lady’s spirit come to life in people. Only in the measure that such takes place and that we realize it and act in accordance with the idea, are we going to get anywhere. If we merely esteem ourselves to be an organization, no matter how good or useful an organization, and leave that other thing out, it is the old proverbial case of the body without the soul.

In the Handbook, there are a few phrases which I would venture to commend to your close attention. Your eyes have strayed over them many times and perhaps there is the danger that things which we have looked at a great number of times may fail to attract our close attention.

SEEK AND TALK TO EVERY SOUL

One phrase is a quotation from a great writer and it is something to this effect: Everyone, if he would survive, must pour himself into anothersoul.”“ Another phrase, also a quotation. is: “We will be called upon to give an account of every soul in thewhole world.” A statement like that could easily be taken by us as representing a sort of poetic exaggeration. How could we be held accountable for souls that we know nothing about and will never touch? Another phrase is a heading to one of the sections of the Handbook and perhaps it is the most important of all. It is the little heading: “Seek out and talk to every soul.” Seek out and talk to every soul! Why? Chiefly because Our Lord’s command to the Church is to reach out to every creature, and as units of the Church we must play our part in realizing His commands.

Also there is another reason which is less important but at the same time has its great weight; it is the very necessity of the case. Today, every heart is a seething pot; every man is a problem which, if left to itself, will fester and corrupt others. It used to be supposed that all was well if our people were attending Mass and going in a reasonable fashion to the Sacraments. It also would be contended in certain places that all was well and that the Faith was firmly held even if people were inattentive both to the Mass and the Sacraments. It used to be said: Even if there is neglect, it is a surface transaction; underneath, the Faith is there and can be relied upon

Those soft, soothing, reassuring phrases have proved to be unreal. In modern times we have seen the great historic Catholic nations crumble away into non-practice, unbelief and Communism. And at the present moment, the world, as we look out over it, affords a dismal contemplation.

You, here in America*, are very privileged in one way. You have not experienced the worst horrors of war and devastation. Over in the other lands they have had that awful experience. They have seen their cities wiped out. They have seen hunger and displacement and misery untellable. And in those older nations a very different spirit prevails from that which fills you. You are full of optimism. You see the menace of the future, but you are not afraid of it. Over there, I repeat, everybody looks out over his world with fear, and there is no man, really, who faces up to the situation with any sort of confidence. You are very fortunate to have that buoyant spirit. But I ask you not to allow it to deceive you too much. Try to look out over the world in, perhaps, a less optimistic vein than that which you have, In particular you must be realistic in regard to the religious position. It is really bad. It would be fatal to relax into a false comfort. Let us analyze things a little.

In many of the older countries we are face to face with the phenomenon of Catholic children abandoning the practice of the Faith immediately after they leave school, and that in countries where religious education is at a high level. It is said that in many such cases fifty per cent of the children abandon practice as soon as they leave school. Imagine that result of all the care and thought and money which has been poured into the education of the young!

A recent authentic case is that of a boys” secondary school, where an entire class abandoned the practice of religion on leaving school. One entire class without exception!

“THERE MIGHT BE SOMETHING INIT”

If that is the case with the young people fresh from the sources of knowledge, let us draw a line from that to the more hardened adults and try to imagine what the position is. A distinguished priest, a very balanced man, speaking about his own country which he has traversed from end to end and in a manner which brought him into touch with the minds of the Catholic people, has said that the valuation of their religion held by a large portion of the Catholic population was no higher than that “there might be something in it” His estimate was that this was true of half of the people. That would amount to it that they were practicing the Faith on a sort of insurance principle, instead of in terms of fiery conviction. They feel that there might be something in it! Therefore it is better to be on the safe side! Could faith reduce itself to a level lower than that? Practice on that level is precarious in the extreme. It only requires a slight jolt to knock one off from practice. Such people are only driftwood, a liability, and of course completely non* This address was given during the visit the author made to the U.S.A. to receive the Pius XII Marian Award. converting. Put in the middle of opportunities of the most lively description, those people are found to be a purely negative proposition so far as the Church is concerned and in fact worse than negative because they cannot but be giving great scandal to the non-Catholics around them who are far- seeing enough to realize the situation.

I fear that we must go even further than this and suggest that the very badge of a Catholic in the world today is that he is reluctant to help another person in point of religion. That is a thought which afflicts one, because in saying it one has stated the very opposite of the Christian idea. A great French writer has defined a Christian as one to whom God has confided the care of his fellow-man. And here we find ourselves looking out over our people and having sorrowfully to admit that the great bulk of them are not prepared to help another person in regard to the things that matter- in regard to Faith.

A DISMAL LITTLE LITANY

That would be catastrophic. But I am satisfied that things are so. And I feel that you must realize it fully, if you are to be stimulated towards that program which we are discussing. Therefore I ask of you to pardon me if I inflict a dismal little litany upon you.

A distinguished lady over in my own city, a lady who was in her ninety-sixth year, stated to a Catholic friend some little time before her death that we Catholics were the strangest of folk, that in her whole lifetime not a Catholic had ever attempted to convert her.

Last year a few of us were indulging in a cycling trip. We came into a village in the North of Ireland composed of two- thirds Protestants and one-third Catholics. The relations between the two sections are kindly. We were told that in the one and only pub which the place boasts of, the Protestants had started asking questions about Catholicism. It was obvious that those questions were based upon a desire to know. We asked: “Are they getting the answers?” No! No Catholic was prepared to give an answer. I am not saying that this arose from indifference. I am only giving you the facts.

When our two envoys went out last year to Brazil, they traveled on a great liner carrying about nine hundred persons. Those two Legionaries were the only people aboard that liner who did anything for the cause of religion during the journey. They worked as we would expect our members to work. Nobody else did. During their rounds, they got down among the crew and they encountered two good Catholics, one of them a Scot and the other an Irishman. Those men told them that during their voyages a constant barrage of questions and difficulties poured in on them from the other members of the crew. They were asked: “.Do you try to help them?” Answer: “We do not feel ourselves equipped to do so.” No help!

We sent Sister Twomey out to South America the other day by the Alcantara. During that voyage, she again was the only person on board that ship who worked for the Faith. She spoke to a large number of people-many of them Protestants-and made a certain amount of headway with each of them. What that will turn into we do not know, but that is not the question. She endeavored to do something because she was a Legionary. One episode I put before you as significant. She had been dealing with a young Protestant who was definitely interested. He went on shore to visit Lisbon. With him was a Catholic lady from the ship. She was a good person; she had gone to Mass on board. They visited a Church and he asked her a question whichwas part of his seeking for information. The lady’s answer was of the briefest. She just cut him off with the word “No.” It answered his question, but it certainly finished off the discussion.

There was a recent case where a Legionary approached a Protestant lady and asked her whether she had ever thought of becoming a Catholic. The reply was: “I have been waiting sixteen years for somebody to ask me that,” and she was readily brought into the Church.

In another case, a Protestant lady working with a well- educated Catholic girl began to talk about her own sorrows. She said that in these trials which appeared to be so great to her, her own Church had no message for her and no help to give her, and that in these circumstances she had resolved to go to Mass daily. She said: “I have the belief that that will help me.” You will realize that what she was really saying was: “Bring me into the Church.” What did the Catholic girl do? She said, “Oh!” That was her contribution! What a terrible tragedy! Fortunately, the story came on to us, and we have been able to take up the threads. That case is sad, but it is typical.

At a recent inaugural meeting of the Patricians, at the interval somebody pointed out a girl and explained that she was not a Catholic. One of the Legionaries went to her and gently asked her how she had been attracted to the meeting. Her answer was: “I have been knocking around with this set for a long time and I just came with them!”

The question was asked: “Does that mean you have any sort of interest in Catholicism?” “Yes.” “Have you ever thought of becoming a Catholic?” “Yes.” “Would you be willing to become one?” “Yes.” But nobody had ever asked her.

Unfortunately, I could go on with that litany indefinitely. Indeed it would be hard to find an example to the contrary, that is, where the ordinary Catholic will assert himself to help another in the matter of religion. So I have to repeat my sad little definition that a Catholic is one who is unprepared to help his fellow-man in point of religion.

THE CENTRAL IDEA: PERSONAL CONTACT

I now sum up by suggesting that no Catholic should be accounted safe unless you have some evidence that real faith reigns in his heart, and you should not take things for granted. You should not assume the existence of an efficient working faith until you have reason to believe that it is there.

But how are you to find out what is in their hearts? This transports me back to my initial quotations. We must get in touch with every person. We must talk to people about themselves. We must induce them to discuss religion, and this applies to those outside the Church as well as those inside the Church; and of course the plight of those outside is much more grievous than the plight of those inside.

That program means personal contact, the contact of one soul with another. That is why I stressed that little heading: “Seek out and talkto every soul.” Talking is the main idea, and it is the thing which we dodge most. We will, do everything except go and talk to people about religion. I honestly believe that mass contact-contact with people in bulk-is only useful if the primary contact, the personal contact, is there as well. In relation to that personal contact, the mass contact (such as realized through the press, the radio, etc.), is secondary, holding much the same position as the plumage does to the bird. The plumage is only living and only has real meaning when it is growing out of the bird. Divorced from the bird, well, it is a decoration for certain purposes. Similarly, if that personal contact-which is the central Christian idea-is not there, then be very doubtful about the feathers, even though they be beautiful.

FAITH AND OUR LADY

Suppose we set ourselves to such a project; that we resolve to go out to reach people and to try to give them a little of our own conviction, there are certain requirements which we must fulfill if we want to be used by God with effectiveness. Obviously we must have faith. That is the basic Christian requirement. Faith itself must not be a vague thing. It is not enough to say: I believe in God and the Catholic Church, while hardly knowing what the Catholic Church stands for. We must have a modest understanding of Christian doctrine, and we must, as part of that, have Our Lady. When I say “have her” I mean “properly understand her.” We must understand her not merely in her role of obtaining favors, because that is the least part of her function. We must understand her as Mother of Divine Grace, as Mother of our Souls, as Mediatrix of all Graces. In other words, Catholics who want to accomplish anything should understand Our Lady in the way you Legionaries do. Your action is spurred by that idea of Our Lady and rendered confident and strong by it, not merely in the psychological sense but in the fact that fullness of appreciation of her has opened you fully to her maternal influence. She is able to establish a union with you and that union is a comprehensive union. It is not merely that she bestows graces upon you, but that she acts through you. In other words, she is your Mother and she pours life into you-the life which is her Son. Then she does not merely fill you, but she reaches out through you. Through those who offer themselves to her she exercises her maternal function towards all men.

That is important when we begin to think in terms of that program which contemplates the whole world, which aspires to get in touch with every member of the human race and to pour the great treasure of faith into that person’s heart. You won’t do-you can’t even attempt to do it-you won’t even think of it-unless you are in union with Our Lady

WITHOUT MARY, JESUS IS NOT GIVEN

That idea of Our Lady is not an exalted one. It is elemental, it is Christian. If we do not understand Our Lady in that way, we do not understand her properly. We are diminishing her, we are belittling her. We are placing her in the category of the saints. It is no praise of Our Lady to declare that she can obtain absolutely anything from God that she asks for. That is not praise of her, because every saint can do that. Every saint lives in (“sod. Every saint seeks according to God’s will. Every saint is automatically granted what he wants. Therefore to talk about Our Lady in that vein is not to praise her and it is not to understand her. If you do not understand Our Lady, you do not understand Christianity, because Christianity puts her in a most extraordinary position. It is true that she is redeemed by her Son like every one of us is, and it is true that she is completely dependent on Him. But when you have said those things, you have then to go on to the fact that she has been assigned a most amazing position, a position unique and unlike any other, and primary. She was the means of introducing the Lord into the world. Without her He would not have come. We would not have Him. And that law which initiated things continues as the Christian Law to-day. Without her He is not given; without her there is no grace, not even the small graces. And what of the big graces, the great converting graces? If you do not bring her into your life, you are beating the air. You may put forth prodigious exertions, but in the end you will be left with practically empty hands.

FAITH AND THE MYSTICAL BODY

In the second place, that faith of yours must contain the notion of the Mystical Body. That doctrine of the Mystical Body is rudimentary in every sense of the word. It was taught to the primitive Christians as basic. Read the Epistles of St. Paul, and you see the extent to which that doctrine was fundamental. The analogous image used by Our Lord Himself was that of the Mystical Vine, which was the same idea again; the branches and the trunk, the members and the head-all one, living it is true out of the virtue of the trunk in one case, the head in the other case, but truly united to the source of life, and meant to be the carriers of that life. Therefore that doctrine cannot be as many of our people think it to be, inaccessible. If it is central in Christianity, it must be understandable to the people. “In Christ,” the phrase which occurs so often in St. Paul, is not a figure of speech. “Mystical” does not mean unreal, as most people seem to think it does. The Mystical Body is just as real as Our Lord Himself. The connection of the Head with the members is real and perfect, more intense than any of the connections in the purely natural order, more intense than the union, for instance, of my hand with my arm. That is real enough, but the union of the Mystical Body is still more intense.

If the idea of the Mystical Body is not grasped to some extent I fear it means that the Church is not understood; that it is only being regarded as a worldly society. True, it is a visible society, one with its rulers and members and laws, a very exalted society which is divinely guaranteed to teach the truth. Nevertheless, to regard it only as a society would be but a shadow of the reality. The Church is far more than that. In plain language the Church may be said to be Christ and to carry on the life of Christ. He is in the Church as life inhabits the body, not as people live in a house. The members of the Church are His members; really part of Him; His means of expression; His instruments. The Church is beyond comparison and proportion with all other societies and institutions. It is in a different order altogether. St. Thomas Aquinas declared that the Mystical Body was the central dogma of Christianity, but definitely it is a sealed book to the majority of Catholics. Imagine the central doctrine missing! It would be somewhat in the same category as a person without a skeleton.

The Mystical Body began when the Second Divine Person came among us to live our life. He took flesh in the Virgin’s womb and was born as a baby; and the body that He took on was God’s instrument. The Second Divine Person carried out His mission through it, and although that Person, Jesus Christ, was God. He conformed to the limitations of that body.

He ate and He slept. He conveyed His thoughts by speaking, and if He was addressing a crowd of people He would have to raise His voice. As a Babe He was carried and He was put to bed. His life was saved by His Beloved Mother and St. Joseph. In His babyhood, He did not talk because it would not be natural for a baby to talk. If He wanted to go some place, He walked, that is, if He did not ride on a donkey’s back; and if He wanted to cross the Lake of Genesareth, a ferryboat was summoned. He was hungry and He was tired. He was grieved and He wept. He went to people; He consoled them; He taught them; He touched them and He healed them. And such was His humanity that in the end people were able to kill and bury Him.

WE CONTINUE CHRIST”S MISSION

You know that that did not end things but indeed only began them. Even our own death only begins a new phase, a new existence. When seed is planted and dies, it brings forth fruit one-hundredfold. And similarly with the case of Our Lord Himself. His Life on earth was not something existing for that time alone. It was intended to be followed by a new and bigger life, a more influential life, a new body. He saved men and added them on to His own body like additional cells on a growing body. A new-born child weighs about seven or eight pounds I understand, but it grows up into an adult of about twenty times or more that weight. In some similar way Our Lord added to His original body all these new cells, the baptized, ourselves. And that new body, which is the Mystical Body, lives like the original one, almost as if Our Lord had continued growing after His death. As a very distinguished Nuncio recently declared to us, we are His mouth, His eyes. His ears, His hands, His feet; and He has no other. We are His means of action. If we give ourselves to Him, He can carry on His mission in our days. That new career of His is more important than His original life on earth (that is, if one could say that anything in the life of Our Lord is more important than anything else in it!). in as much as it was the last for which the first was made. That first living of His on earth was intended for the second living. That first existence of His was confined to His own country. The frontiers of Judea bounded it and we do not hear of Him speaking any other language but His native Aramaic. Then came the Resurrection and Pentecost, and the frontiers of Judea were obliterated. Christ in His Mystical Body put His feet upon the pathways of the earth and went out to carry on what He had been doing before, this time speaking in all tongues, going to all peoples, but carrying on His mission much as He did in His earthly career.

If the Mystical Body lends itself to Him to a reasonable extent (and it can withhold that co-operation just as it can give it) Our Lord is enabled to do the same things that He did of old. He can go about seeking people, helping them in every way and above all teaching them the rules of eternal life. Through us He can act in the fullness of His power. There is no limit in regard to what may happen.

That does not mean that through each one He puts forth His full power; that He speaks infallibly, or that He works miracles. Though He could do it, and sometimes He does. His action is governed by His own will. It takes forms that we ourselves may not understand, but it is not limited. Through the Pope, for instance, He speaks infallibly, and through saints He works miracles, and He could do these things through any person if the situation demanded it. But what is certain is that in His way He does reach out even through the weakest of us and is enabled to accomplish His plan.

“GREATER THINGS THAN THESE SHALL YE DO”

You will remember an extraordinary phrase He once used to His disciples when He was among them. Referring to His miracles, He said: “Greater things than these will ye do “: in other words, greater even than the wonders that the Lord had been accomplishing before their eyes; greater things even than those would be accomplished through them in the future. That is an overwhelming statement which should bring before us in a compelling way the fact that He truly lives in the Mystical Body and by it exerts Himself and carries on His mission and operates the fullness of His power.

Especially must that Mystical Body, which is the carrier of Christ and His means of expressing Himself, go to those who are outside the Church with the aim of adding them on to it. That approach is, as I said in my pathetic litany, unfortunately not being made. It is an awful idea that we can prevent the Lord from doing all those things that He wants to do to mankind. It is just as if His actual body was sick or injured; He would have been held back. By reason of the general inactivity of Catholics, the position has come that the vast majority of the world’s population is not even being approached. Absolutely no approach is being made to Mohammedanism, although in Africa it is growing twice as fast as the Church. The Jews are not being approached. You may say that Protestantism, which nominally possesses three hundred millions, is not being approached. The Buddhists, the Hindus. are hardly being approached and the ordinary pagans are only being approached in a very partial fashion.

Whole great populations, the former Catholic nations that have fallen away into unbelief, are not being approached. Legionaries setting about their visitation in those great irreligious areas, report that they have not discovered a home which within the memory of man had been visited on a religious errand. That means that Our Lord is practically debarred from those places by that law of His which we have been considering. I suppose that if we were driven to arithmetic, we would have to say that fifteen hundred million people in the world to-day are not being approached by Catholics.

To the extent of our own poor power, we must try to reverse this position. We must realize our responsibility in the light of the doctrine of the Mystical Body which means that the Lord depends on us. We must be active. We must lend ourselves to the Lord and His Mother in faith and in conscious practice of that doctrine. We must act with the deliberate intention of giving Him to people. We must open our mouths and talk in the belief that He will in His own fashion utilize those poor words of ours as the bearers of His message of salvation. We should play a part in the Lord’s command that the Church must reach out to every person.

READY TO BE USED BY CHRIST

Our Legion service must be no business of four hours a week: for the Legion, as has so often been said, is only a school-time. We go to that school for a few hours every week, not for the sake of the school but for the sake of the other hours. If people went to school and never used outside what they learned in school, the school would have been a waste of time. Similarly we go to school in the Legion for the purpose of learning our Catholic duty and of learning the basic Catholic doctrines upon which that duty rests. After that we must try to see that every minute of our lives is full of the spirit of readiness to be used by Our Lord, full of what we would call an act of offering of ourselves to Him and a willingness to avail of the opportunities which beset our path in number. There they are like the sands upon the seashore and we do not even see them. We must stir up our vision in faith and we must look on every person who crosses our path as Our Lord Himself would look upon the people who met Him. If we do not put ourselves into that positive frame of mind, we will be found limiting His action.

I have said that Our Lord, while He was on earth, conformed to the limitations of His body. Now we must not impose those limitations. We must submit ourselves to Him in the responsive way that His physical body did. It is true, as we have seen, that now and then His body, so to speak, surrendered to nature. He was tired and He could go no further, and His feelings overcame Him. But that was momentary. Immediately the faithful instrument, His humanity, revived and went on with its work, if you read the pages of the New Testament, you see the unalterable devotion of His life. It would be impossible to imagine a greater degree of devotion. We know that never for one second did His devotion flag; that every moment was full of that urgent eagerness, that ardor to do His Father’s will, that hunger for souls. We must, I was going to say, reflect that utter devotedness, but the expression is inadequate. Because it is not a case of reflection. His love is in us, for we are part of Him. So rather we must radiate His solicitous love for mankind, if we let ourselves be the medium for that radiation, He will put forth His power and achieve His plan.

POWER MUST GO OUT FROM US

You will remember the story in Scripture where the woman pressing to get near Him managed to touch the hem of His garment. Forthwith as He says Himself, power went out from Him. No less will happen if we try to realize our destiny in Him. Then power will go out from us no matter how weak we are. We are his up-to-date garment of flesh. For all our poverty and misery and sinfulness, He is eager to use us. Indeed He is constrained to use us, because the Head has need of the members; and you are members who humbly place themselves at His disposal.

Now, that is your program. How are you to reach out to the whole world? First of all reach out to your own little world, the world which revolves immediately around you. You have in this great metropolis* an image of the whole wide world. Here in your own city you have all the races of the earth, all the problems without exception. Yet it is not as big as the world, and in a real sense it would be possible for you to get into some sort of touch with every person in the area. It might not be a very intense touch, but you can establish a touch. You can go to people. You may not be able to convert anybody, but that is not the problem. The Lord did not say: Convert everybody, because conversion is His gift. But He did say: Go to everybody. When we have fulfilled the command of going to every person, then what is going to happen?

I would petition you to take this idea seriously. You are a goodly host as it is and you have a happy and good spirit * This talk was given in New York. in you. It would be a terrible thing if you were to limit that by not realizing the use that you are to put it to. You must lift up your eyes, look out to the ultimate horizons of your own world here, and think in terms of every soul. Think in terms of the multitude of Jews that you have in this city, the multitude of non-Catholics, the multitude of terrible, seething problems, the Catholic souls that are sick and sorry and making no use of their lives. Do not let your heart fail when you contemplate that spiritual chaos, but think in terms of the doctrine that I have been trying to put before you. Remember that though you are a little flock, He who is mighty is not merely in the midst of you, but is living in you and wants to realize through you His eternal mission. If you open your mouth, the words of eternal wisdom will be uttered by Him through you in His fashion. If you walk and go to people, it is He whom you are carrying to those people. It will not be your feebleness which will be at work, but His might- So that when you do these things for a little while, fruitlessly it might seem, suddenly the desert flowers and conversions begin to pour in.

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Exposition On The Sixth Penitential Psalm

PSALM 129

SAINT JOHN FISHER

INDEX

1 A gradual canticle.

Out of the depths I have cried to thee, O Lord:

2 Lord, hear my voice.

Let thy ears be attentive to the voice of my supplication.

3 If thou, O Lord, wilt mark iniquities: Lord, who shall stand it.

4 For with thee there is merciful forgiveness: and by reason of thy law, I have waited for thee, O Lord. My soul hath relied on his word:

5 my soul hath hoped in the Lord.

6 From the morning watch even until night, let Israel hope in the Lord.

7 Because with the Lord there is mercy: and with him plentiful redemption.

8 And he shall redeem Israel from all his iniquities.

Every sinner who breaks the commandment of God goes away from him and draws backward into many great, perilously deep dangers, falling more and more toward the horrible pit of hell. Holy Scripture has shown this figuratively in the story of the prophet Jonah, describing the certain degrees and orders of his descent when he broke the commandment of God. We shall here mark and note seven points in that order, as they are shown: first Jonah, by breaking God’s commandment, turned himself away and fled from the face of God; secondly, he went to a town named Joppa near the sea, where he hired a ship convenient to pass over on his journey; thirdly, he entered the ship, or, as scripture says, came down into it and, in spite of being warned by the sudden rising of a great, violent storm, would not return to land; fourthly, he went down into the hollow, lowest places of the ship and there slept soundly; fifthly, he was cast out from this place into the surging sea; sixthly, he was devoured and swallowed down into the lowest part of a great whale’s belly; and lastly, if he had not remembered almighty God shortly in these tribulations and been saved by his help, he could not have escaped being digested in the great fish’s belly and voided out from it like dung, and so slipping down to the bottom of the great sea. These seven degrees of Jonah’s fall from God by the breaking of his commandment signify to us the diverse falls of the sinner, who goes lower and lower from one degree to another into the diverse perils of the depths. It does not matter for our purpose at this time that Jonah in Holy Scripture signifies Christ, for one and the same thing by a different consideration may be taken figuratively for two contraries. Sometimes in Holy Scripture the lion signifies Christ, as in the Apocalypse, vicit leo de tribu Iuda, and sometimes it signifies the devil, as in the epistle of Saint Peter, tanquam leo rugiens circuit (Rev 5:5, 1 Pet 5:8). What can be more contrary than God and the devil? Seeing that one thing may betoken Christ and the devil, why may not Jonah sometimes signify Christ and sometimes the sinner?

But let us proceed in what we have begun. We shall mark and consider how the degrees of Jonah’s fall from God correspond to and signify the degrees of the sinner’s descent from God by sin. The first degree of going into sin is the consent of the mind, with prior deliberation about something forbidden by God’s law. For a plainer declaration, this will be an example: here is a young man still chaste in his body, to whom the remembrance of a fair woman comes to mind; he does not withstand it but eagerly thinks on her beauty and sets his mind to have his fleshly lust of her; at last he consents to have to do with her if he can find opportunity and leisure. This consent of the mind is deadly sin, even if he should never have his purpose indeed. Jesus Christ our Savior says in the Gospel, qui viderit mulierem ad concupiscendum eam, iam moechatus est eam in corde suo, he who beholds a woman and consents in his mind to have his lust of her if he can, the sin is committed in his heart, and by that consent alone he commits a deadly sin (Mt 5:28). If he died then without any penance, he would be damned forever. But those cogitations that come suddenly into the mind, no matter how unclean, provided we do not consent to them but oppose them as much as we can, are no deadly sins and oftentimes no venial sins, and we shall have great profit by striving against them, not consenting at any time. ‘Whoever sets his mind on a worldly creature or pleasure more than on God turns himself away from his maker. He follows after and obeys that worldly thing contrary to God’s law, which is called the unlawful consent of the mind. He flees from God as Jonah did when he fled, disobeyed, and would not go as commanded to the great city of Nineveh. It is written of him thus: Almighty God said to Jonah, rise and go to the great city of Nineveh, preach and tell them that their malice and sinful living have come to my knowledge. Then Jonah rose, disobeyed that commandment, and fled from the face of our Lord. Thus, you perceive how manifestly the first fall into sin, which is consent, corresponds to the first fall of Jonah.

The second degree of the sinner’s fall is his being occupied and actively searching for time and opportunity to fulfill his purpose in deed. For at such time as the sinner busies himself with how and by what means he can accomplish the sin to which he consented before, he falls down one degree deeper, and his sin is more grievous than it was by consenting alone. In so doing he heaps sin upon sin and makes the first spot of it blacker, fouler than it was in the sight of God. Truly, it is a general rule that when a deadly sin is once purposed by consent of our mind, whatever we do to accomplish it is also deadly sin. An example: perhaps you have decreed with yourself to use your body (if you conveniently can) in sensual lust and pleasure with a certain woman, and you go about and labor by many means to fulfill it in deed-by wanton words, wanton looks, gallant apparel of your body, frequent gifts, or any other means. Whatever you do in full purpose of it, no matter how little, even if it is but the lifting of a straw, is always deadly sin. This second degree of the sinner’s fall is shown figuratively by the second act of Jonah, his going to Joppa, a town near the sea, and there hiring a ship so that he might flee Judas-like from the face of our Lord God. Of his so doing Scripture speaks in these words: et descendit in Ioppen; et invenit navem euntem in Tharsis, et dedit naulum eius, Jonah went down to Joppa, there found a ship going toward the country of Tarshish, and hired it (Jonah i:3). The third degree of the sinner’s fall is the fulfilling of his purpose that he has been intending so long to accomplish. Consent is evil; the active means to fulfill his purpose is worse; and the accomplishment of the sin in deed is worst of all. This is for three reasons: first, for the long continuance; secondly, for the greater lust and pleasure had in the offense; and thirdly, for the great harm that comes to both soul and body. A man who does a trespass against almighty God and lies long in it offends more grievously than if, as soon as he is fallen by sin, he will rise again. For a person is less blameworthy if he refrains shortly after consenting than if he continues a long time and at last fulfills his purpose. The immoderate lust and pleasure of the body is made more grievous by fulfilling it in deed than by thought or consent alone. For when the mind is set on bodily pleasure, the soul is thereby sorely vexed; when both body and soul consent, the sin is great; but when at last the accomplishment of the sin is exercised in deed, then this is much more grievous. For only the soul was made foul by thought and consent, but both body and soul become corrupt by the deed, and many times two bodies, as by the sin of fornication. This third degree is shown figuratively by the third act of Jonah, for as the sinner first finds means and then does the deed, so Jonah first found the way and means to hire the ship and after entered into it; or as Scripture says, et descendit in eam, he came down into the ship (1:3). And just as many times a person who has grievously offended is struck quickly with the abomination of his sin, yet will not refrain depite that divine warning, even so, as soon as Jonah had entered into the ship, a great tempest arose on the sea, yet he would not return to land.

The fourth degree in the fall of the sinner is the custom of it: the more a sinner accustoms himself to sin, the more grievous, the deeper is his descent toward the pit of hell.

Although he does not perceive it, he sinks little by little into the filthy pleasure of it, just as a horse, the softer the mire or clay he wallows in, the more easily he lies and the more deeply he imprints his form in it, but when he tries to rise again, the softness of the clay will not allow him to take a hold by which he might be assisted. The custom of nature is much like this, for naturally we must use meat and drink for hunger and thirst and use other things in the same way we have been well accustomed to. This fourth degree is more grievous in the sight of God than one deed or the doing of a sin once. Perhaps one offense, trespass, or fall may be excused because a man in himself is so frail. For it is said, humanum est cadere, the property of man is to fall; sed pergere in lapsum et perseverare diabolicum est, but to lie long and continue in sin is appropriate to the devil.* When the devil has enticed any person to this point of continuance, he has then brought him into a sad, sound sleep, from which he can scarcely awake for any calling or noise. This degree of the sinner’s fall is represented by the fourth act of Jonah: instead of returning to land when he perceived a great tempest coming, he went down into the lowest parts of the ship and there slept heavily. Scripture *A variation on the proverb”to err is human,” errare humanum est: perseverare diabolicum. declares it, saying, descendit in interiora navis et dormiebat soporegravi, Jonah descended into the low parts of the ship and there slept soundly (1:5). Likewise, when the sinner comes into the custom of sin, he goes down and in manner sleeps in it.

The fifth degree in the fall of the sinner is when he rejoices and boasts of the sin he committed, where rightly he should be ashamed and fear the penalty of the law ordained for open sinners. Such persons are beyond both fear and shame. Many times in common taverns they speak openly to others of the like disposition about their ignominious and shameful offenses, making great boast, about how wickedly they have done with that woman and that one, perhaps slandering someone they never touched. Thus they make open vaunt of themselves so that others will honor and praise their wickedness. To these may be applied the saying of the prophet Hosea, profunde peccaverunt, they sin deeply (Hos 9: 9). So deeply our Savior compares these slanderous declarations of their wickedness to the fall of one who slips down to the bottom of the sea, utilius est illi si lapis molaris imponatur circa collum eius et proiiciatur in mare, it would be better and more profitable for this sinner if a millstone were hung about his neck and he were so cast into the sea than for him to show his sin openly by boasting and bragging (Lk 17:2). The fifth act of Jonah corresponds to this degree when he was cast into the sea and drowned in the waters. Likewise, these great abominable sinners who boast of their ungraciousness are utterly drowned in sin, overwhelmed with the manifold floods of it.

The sixth degree is when the sinner will defend his error and find fault with virtue. Such sinners have used, accustomed themselves to, and made their boast of vicious living for so long that it seems to them no sin, and by all the means that can be found, they labor and scheme to cause all others to think as they do. O great and deadly profundity of sin! When a man is fallen to this degree, he despises and utterly forsakes all wholesome warnings by which he could be brought again into the right way of good life. Sapiens says, impius, cum in profundum malorum venerit, contempnit, when the sinner is fallen into the depth of sin, then he despises all wholesome remedies and correction for the amendment of his sinful living (Prov 18:3). He would have every person live as he does and will not allow the life of wicked folks to be reproved and spoken against or the grievous wounds of his soul to be touched in any way. The sinner of this sort is entirely in the possession and power of the devil. Saint John shows that our adversary the devil goes about searching whom he may devour, but now I fear he does not need to do so, for his purpose is in a way already fulfilled. He has devoured and swallowed many into the lowest part of his belly. This sixth degree is well shown by the sixth act of Jonah, when the great, mighty whale devoured and swallowed him down into the vile, lowest part of his carcass. Likewise, these obstinate and abominable sinners are utterly devoured and swallowed down by our great enemy the devil.

The seventh degree is to despair of the great mercy of God, which is the deepest, most perilous of all others, just next to the horrible pit of hell. If any creature has fallen so deep that he despairs, it will be very hard for him to rise again. Saint Chrysostom says, desperatio non finit peccatorem post lapsum exurgere, despair will not let a man, when he is fallen down, rise again. It is like a deep pit whose mouth is stopped up with a great stone, so that nothing can get out unless the stone is removed. The covering of this deep pit of desperation cannot be taken away without strong, steadfast hope in the great mercy of almighty God. We have spoken so much in the previous psalms about this superabundant mercy that if there were not a great plenty of Scriptures one after another in every place, praising and exalting this great mercy, I would be afraid no more could be spoken of it.

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Facts For Freethinkers

BY HEINRICH SCHUNCK

TRANSLATED BY ISABEL MCHUGH

INDEX

PART I

THE UNIVERSE DEMANDS A GOD

Free thinking is good but right thinking is better.

There is a God! It is not just I who say that to you. The whole Universe says it if you will but hear its voice. Just listen now, and if you are really a freethinker, that is, free from bias and prejudice, you must surely allow yourself to be convinced by the following facts.

There is no masterpiece without a master, and from the work we know the master as the tree is known by its fruit.

The existence of a statue presupposes the existence of a sculptor. Here is a watch. There must, therefore, be a clever watchmaker somewhere, who has fashioned it. Before us is a dainty meal; that means that a good cook has been here, who prepared it. These things are self-evident.

Since we find, then, that a watch, an engine, a motor, a vase, or any other object points to the existence of an artist or an artisan, who has made it, how much more does that most wonderful thing which we call the world demand the existence of a Creator.

Aristotle, one of the greatest minds of antiquity, recognized this very clearly. “When one considers the earth, the sea, and the heavens,” he said, “how can one doubt that there is a great God, and that all these things are His works?”

What a stupendous triumph of power, wisdom, and supreme intelligence the universe is! If we only try, however ineffectively, to contemplate its wonders, we are inevitably forced to conclude that behind it all there must be an infinitely wise and powerful Creator.

First let us consider the earth. It is nearly 93 million miles from the sun and moves round it through space at a rate of 181 miles each second; that is, over 66,000 miles an hour. No aeroplane or motor will ever approach this speed-record!

Now think of the sun. It is more than a million times bigger than our earth and by its gravitational attraction keeps in their orbits all the planets and their satellites, even Neptune, whose average distance from it is 2,793 millions of miles. It is the source of all power and motion throughout the earth and all the solar system.

But that is not all! Let us imagine that we are on the sun and that we feel inclined to make a trip to the nearest fixed star. If we had an express train travelling at the rate of sixty miles an hour we should still need more than 45 million years for our journey of some 24 billion miles.

There are yet other stars which are a hundred times farther away from the sun than that one; and there are, we must remember, billions of stars. Our great modern telescopes can detect millions of nebulae, each of which is an isolated “universe” containing as many stars as all those that we can see.

We must remember that the so-called fixed stars are not really fixed but move far more rapidly through space than does our little earth. But they are so far from the earth that ordinary observation does not suffice to detect their motion, which is, however, at the rate of several miles per second. Contemplating them one must think of the mighty Intelligence which has flung these billions of fiery bodies into space and has ordained the laws of motion according to which they move with unceasing mathematical regularity.

Yes, the universe is an appalling theme, which beggars the imagination. But it compels us to think of the infinitely wise Architect its Creator, whom we call God. “The heavens shew forth the glory of God, and the firmament declareth the work of His hands” (Psalm XVIII, 1.).

THE LESSON OF OUR OWN BODIES

Here again we are met with wonders of creative power and wisdom.

I bear within my body a number of little power-stations or chemical factories which work away without my own volition. They are: my digestive system, my breathing apparatus, my blood-system. Normally, they all work unerringly and unceasingly day and night without my even troubling to think about them. Each minutest part is assigned its definite work, and each part is designed to work in perfect harmony with the whole.

I have eyes which work better than the best photographic apparatus. Each is a little camera, fitted with a lens and a sensitive plate (the retina). Here an endless succession of pictures is received and focused, causing chemical changes which the optic nerve detects and reports to the brain.

My ears are the most marvellous little harps, each fitted with some 6,000 strings the longest of which measures a fiftieth of an inch and the shortest a five-hundredth of an inch in length. These little harps are so finely tuned that they can pick up sounds and noises in seven different scales.

I have a heart, that is to say, a powerful suction and pressure pump which makes 100,000 strokes each day and sends all my blood through every part of my body hundreds of times a day. Each of the millions of cells of which my body is composed takes unerringly from this journeying blood just the nourishment which it needs, no more and no less. And all this work goes on so quietly that only the beating of my heart reminds me of its ceaseless labour.

Involuntarily we must ask ourselves whether indeed the greatest and richest man in the world, having at his disposal the most skilled men of his day, could command the production of one tiniest item so wonderful as the things which every child takes into the world from the hands of its Creator.

We think ourselves very wise and clever because we have invented the aeroplane, the camera, or the violin. But we quite forget that in all these inventions we have only thought out and copied what the great Creator and Thinker first thought out and made. All inventions, wonderful as they admittedly are, are yet merely close copies of something in Nature and can never surpass Nature. No flying “ace” will ever fly as safely and unerringly as a bird. No violin will ever sound so sweetly as the nightingale. Photography, even, is the exact copying of nature.

The greater the work, the greater the artist. We must, therefore, conclude that the Creator of these masterpieces must be a very great Master indeed.

WHAT OF THE OBJECTORS?

First comes the common or garden atheist. He does not believe in God, he says. Who, then, has designed and created the Universe and all that it contains? Listen and marvel!

(1) He says that what men call God is nothing more than the result of the interplay of matter and energy. What, then, becomes of that first axiom of philosophy, namely, that nothing can give what it has not first got? How can lifeless, mindless matter call into being life and mind ? If life did not first exist in a higher, eternal, and essential Being, how could it ever have come to us?

(2) Then there is the Evolution Theory. Evolution is all very well, but it brings you back to exactly the same point—that you must have in the beginning something to evolve, something, moreover, in which the urge towards development is innate. In other words, Evolution definitely demands a Creator. Lamarck, one of the originators of the Transformation Theory, himself recognized this very clearly. “People imagine Nature is God,” he said. “That is rather odd-confusing the watch with the watchmaker!”

Darwin was of precisely the same mind. “I have never been an atheist,” he said, “I have never denied the existence of God. The theory of evolution is perfectly compatible with belief in God.” Or, as that great biologist, the late Fr. Erich Wasmann, S. J., put it: “One must not speak of “creation or evolution,” for nothing can evolve before it is created. A wheel cannot turn before it exists. One must say rather “creation and evolution”; creation first, then evolution.”

(3) The Chance Theory. There are actually those who say that the universe and all its perfectly harmonised wonders came into existence through mere inexplicable chance. This is certainly a little too much! To the atheist who thinks in this way I would say: “Get a sack of sand and throw it into a barrel. Stir it up energetically and then see what you will draw out-beautiful pictures, vases, flower-pots, even a violin, perhaps? Or throw the letters of the alphabet into the air so that they fall down on paper, on which they will sort themselves into an up-to-date news-sheet with reports from the whole wide world.” Quite as intelligent a possibility as the “chance” school of belief, or rather, of unbelief! So enough of this particular nonsense.

“If you travel from end to end of the earth you can find towns with or without walls, with or without houses, with or without laws, even with or without money. But a people without prayer, a people without divine worship, a people without God, has never yet been found anywhere.” Thus spoke Plutarch of old; and we of today, with all our immeasurably wider knowledge of tribes and peoples, must admit the same age-old truth. All peoples, in all times and in all lands, have believed in a God.

Yet one hears this sort of drivel from the atheistical school: “Yes, quite so. People have believed in God because they found that it served them to do so.” The history of the ages tells us a very different tale. People have ever had to deny themselves and overcome their passions when they confessed God. For believing, countless numbers in every age have been persecuted cruelly and have lost all, even life itself. No. Let us be candid. The real reason for this persistent belief in God is that there exist genuine, compelling, undeniable reasons for believing in God. As the freethinker, Berthelot, put it, “Mankind has always had the feeling that behind the True, the Good, and the Beautiful, a Supreme Being stands, who is in Himself the living Embodiment of the Ideal. And this Being is God.”

SCIENCE DEMANDS A GOD

Sound reason and philosophy assure us that there is a God. But what of Science? When I say “Science” I refer to the collective opinion and belief of those genuinely learned persons who in their lifetime were members of recognized Universities or Schools of Science-prominent scholars and discoverers in the fields of astronomy, electricity, biology, and so on. What have they to say in the matter? Let us see.

Especially in our days, when Science means everything, it is at least interesting to hear their opinion. If it is found to be on the side of belief, then those freethinkers who deny God are rather to be suspected of being, to say the least of it, on the wrong track, if not, indeed, of being the victims of serious mental aberrations. For mental experts are of the opinion that disbelief in what obviously exists is a recognized symptom of mental derangement.

Let us, therefore, see what these men of learning have got to say.

TELLING FIGURES

The well-known scholar, Dr. Dennart of Godesberg, himself a believing Protestant, published in 1908 a paper entitled “The Religion of Scientists.” This symposium was the outcome of his researches into the religious beliefs of the 300 greatest scientific geniuses and scholars of the last three centuries. In 38 out of the 300 cases he could ascertain nothing, for no testimony had been left behind or preserved, but of the remaining 262 persons, 242 were definitely believers and only 20 unbelieving or indifferent in their attitude towards religion. The proportion was, therefore, 92 to 8.

Is not this comparison of numbers rather a crushing indictment of Unbelief?

But perhaps you will say that this proportion has been gradually changing, that the really modern man of science knows “better”? Not at all. The figures for the last century show exactly the same results. Out of 136 nineteenth century men of learning whose religious beliefs were examined, 124 were found to be believers and only 12 unbelievers. Again a proportion of 92 to 8.

Are not these telling figures? But we shall examine the facts more closely.

MODERN SCIENTISTS

N. Copernicus (1473–1543), a doctor who later became a priest and who died as Canon of Frauenburg, was the first to publish definite calculations, accompanied by a chart, concerning the revolution of the earth and other planets round the sun. This epoch-making work he dedicated to Pope Paul III. The traveller of today may read on his tomb in Frauenburg the epitaph which he himself composed: “I ask not the grace granted to Peter, nor that given to Paul; I only ask the favour Thou didst show the thief on the cross.”

Kepler (d. 1630) wrote: “Oh, my God and my Creator, I thank Thee for all the rapture and delight which I have been permitted to find in contemplating the omnipotence of Thy works!” And Linnaeus said once, “The eternal and infinite God has been very near to me. I have not seen His Face, but the mere reflection of His Countenance has filled me with awe and wonder!”

Herschel, one of the greatest astronomers of all ages, said, “The more Science progresses the more the omnipotence of God is proved, and so the initiated render in the Temple of Science their meed of praise to the Almighty God.”

Volta (1745–1827), to whom we are to a great extent indebted for the discovery of electricity and its wonders, made the following well-known confession of faith: “I am ready to declare that I have at all times held and will always hold the holy Catholic Faith as the only true and infallible one.”

Ampere (1775–1836), one of the greatest scientific men of his century, said, “Faith and Science go essentially hand in hand.” And, as he lay dying, the watchers by his bedside marvelled that in the midst of his pain his eyes glowed with supernatural rapture and joyful expectation. Someone offered to read him the “Imitation of Christ,” but that was not necessary-he knew it by heart.

Clerk Maxwell (d. 1879), the Cambridge professor, and the only scientist of his period whose theories regarding electrical phenomena have stood the test of time, likewise died a most saintly Christian death. “My Lord and my God,” he prayed, “I do not ask for life or death, but only for the grace to live and die Thy faithful servant.”

Backhuys Roozeboom, for many years, until his death in 1906, Professor of Chemistry at Amsterdam, used to refer to the wonders of natural science as “revelations of the sublime thoughts of the Creator.” And his colleague, Fresenius, likewise a man of deeply reverential spirit, whose works have been translated even into Chinese, left behind a like testimony of religious faith.

J. B. Dumas (d. 1884), the great French physicist, realized profoundly that all the complicated laws of physical science have their origin in the Divine Wisdom, and to illustrate this fact he used to quote those words of Holy Scripture, “The Lord God . . . hath meted out the heavens with a span, comprehended the dust of the earth in a measure, and weighed the mountains in scales and the hills in a balance.” “These words were written thousands of years ago,” he commented, “but the modern physicist is being daily more and more struck with their meaning and truth.”

Karl Gauss, called by the eminent Laplace “the greatest mathematician in Europe,” was a man of profoundly religious outlook. “What would we mortals be,” he cried, “without our hope for a better future, without our hope of Eternal Life!”

The brilliant Charles Young was also a deeply religious man; in fact, he originally intended to be a missionary. The great astronomer, Heis of Cologne, was a most devout Catholic, particularly noted for his life-long devotion to the Rosary. And yet another distinguished astronomer, Francis Perry, who engaged in many scientific expeditions at the instance of the British Government, was a Jesuit Father.

A list of such touching and sincere confessions of faith might be added to indefinitely if one were to quote the testimonies of the many other great scientists, such as Newton, Reaumur, Faraday, Jussieu, Buffon, Fraunhofer, Fresnel, Fizeau, and Lavoisier, who were also great believers.

But we shall now turn to the three great seers of the nineteenth century, namely, Darwin, Bernard, and Pasteur.

Darwin stated definitely, as we have already seen, “I have never been an atheist; I have never denied God.” Bernard said on his death-bed, “I die in the Catholic Faith which my mother taught me.” And Pasteur declared, “Because I have thought and studied so much my faith is like the faith of a Breton peasant. If I had thought and studied more I would doubtless have the faith of a Breton peasant’s wife.”

NO CONTRADICTION EXISTS

The great Lord Lister,(1) discoverer of the antiseptic principle, and one of the greatest scientists of his age, wrote: “I have no hesitation in saying that in my opinion there is no antagonism between the religion of Jesus Christ and any fact scientifically established.”

1 N.B.-The testimony of Lord Lister has been inserted by the translator.-I. McH.

Sir George Stokes,(2) one-time President of the Royal Society, and Lucasian Professor of Mathematics at Cambridge for over fifty years, when asked whether there was any contradiction between Science and the Christian Religion, wrote : “As to the statements that “recent scientific research has shown the Bible and Religion to be untrue,” the answer I should give is simply that the statement is altogether untrue. I know of no sound conclusions of science that are opposed to the Christian Religion.”

Henri Fabre, the incomparable naturalist, on being asked whether he believed in God, replied characteristically, “I cannot say that I believe in God, because I see Him. Every century brings its freaks and whims, and I, for my part, consider atheism a whim-the fashionable malady of our day. But as for myself-one could about as easily pull off my skin as take from me my Catholic Faith.”

Arnold Foerster, another great authority on entomology, was likewise a most devout Catholic. Professor Van Beneden of Louvain used to say that he found the light and help of the Faith necessary .to enable him to understand the wonders of the animal world.

Laennec (inventor of the stethoscope) has often been called the greatest of medical scientists. He lived and died a faithful son of the Catholic Church in thought, word, and deed. It has been said of him that in his researches into the wonders of the human organism he found constant food for meditation on the Divine Wisdom. And the great biologist, Cuvier, who has been styled “the modern Aristotle,” said, “the study of Nature leads to God.”

At the funeral oration of the great physicist and mathematician, Le Verrier, an eminent fellow-scientist said of him that his profound studies of the universe and the firmament had deepened and confirmed his faith in God. And Gladstone, (3) one of the pioneers of optical science, used to organize and deliver lectures and readings to combat the then growing fallacy, that a contradiction exists between science and religion.

EMINENT UNBELIEVERS

But the unbelieving men of learning-what of them?

In the first place, are they really so very numerous? We have already seen the proportion-8 in 100-certainly not an overwhelming number. And, if it is a question of weight and worth of opinion, surely the testimonies of Kepler, Newton, and Pasteur are at least as valuable as are those of Comte and Berthelot.

Secondly, are they genuine atheists? For unfortunately, or rather, fortunately, just when one thinks one has found one’s arch-atheist, he makes a complete right-about and leaves his party in the lurch. The most apparently irreconcilable of them have done this.

Voltaire, for instance, violent enemy though he was to what he was pleased to call the superstition of Christianity, yet retained belief in God, as many pages of his writings bear witness.

One May morning in 1774, when he was eighty-one years old, he witnessed the glories of the sunrise from one of the heights around Verney. He uncovered his head: he fell on his knees. “I believe” he cried, “I believe in Thee.” Dieu Puissant! Je crois!

Mézeray, (4) too, returned to the Faith before life’s close. “Mézeray on his death-bed is more believing than Mézeray in his days of health,” he said.

And these words of Renan, the high-priest of modern agnosticism, spoken shortly before his death, tell their own tale of sorrow and repentance. They are indeed heart-piercing. “Oh, God of my youth!” he prayed, “I have always cherished the

2 N.B.-The testimony of Sir George Stokes has been inserted by the translator.-I. McH.

3 John Hall Gladstone, F.R.S. (1827–1902), will always be remembered for his collaboration with Sir D. Brewster in the early days of spectroscopy. He studied chiefly the relation of chemistry to optics, was lecturer to many learned institutions, and held important consultative posts under government.

4 Mézeray, an historian patronised by Cardinal Richelieu; becoming a political hack-writer, he drew a good many pensions. Later on, so Voltaire asserts, he lost them all through telling what he thought was the truth. hope of returning to Thee -and perhaps I shall yet return, humble and subdued. Ah, how I would beat my breast if I could hear Thy Voice once more-that Voice which used to make me tremble so. Oh, God of my youth! Perhaps Thou wilt yet be the God of my deathbed, too!”

Arthur Schopenhauer, the well-known atheist of the past century, as he lay dying called again and again on the God whom he had denied all his life. “For in suffering,” he said, “it is impossible to do without God.” The prominent Dutch freemason and atheist who founded the rationalist paper, Morgenrote, renounced on his death-bed all that he had said and written in favour of godlessness. And Berthelot, towards the end of his life, sadly admitted: “In a life without faith in God too many doubts and speculations keep arising-in my case bringing that unrest and sadness of heart which has never left me all my life.” One might continue such a catalogue indefinitely. Every day the list grows longer of men and women who call themselves atheists and stoutly preach the creed of godlessness, but who, as they approach death’s door, humbly retrace their steps and turn to the God to whom they have so long denied allegiance.

For godlessness is all too easy in life, but crushing in the hour of death.

ATHEISM AND SELF

But were the atheistical men of learning quite disinterested in their denial of God, where it was a question of worldly distinction or eminence? Consider, for instance, whether or not it was of material advantage to Renan and Berthelot to be distinguished as agnostics.

And then, where the weaknesses of the flesh are concerned, how many atheists must admit with Bouguer, (5): I was a denier of God because I was an evil liver. My unbelief was a malady of the heart, not of the mind.” What Bruyère said on this point is also illuminating. “I should like to find one simple, chaste, and temperate man who wants to contest the existence of God. He would certainly be a very impartial person. But such impartial people simply do not exist.”

Finally, let us remember that though atheists are certainly well qualified to pass judgment in matters pertaining to their branch of learning, they may not have studied religion quite so deeply. This was certainly the case with an eminent French atheist of the old school, who, when asked why he was an atheist, gave the brilliant reply: “Because I do not believe in God!”

In contrast to this take the testimony of Cauchi, king of mathematicians in his day. “I am a Christian,” he wrote in the introduction to his works. “That is, I believe in the Godhead of Christ in company with most of the learned men of all times. And, like the majority of them, I am a Catholic; but this not merely because my parents were Catholics, but because I have convinced myself by a thorough examination of the facts, that the Catholic religion is the only true one.”

As we know by now, many of the greatest geniuses.of the race have given like testimony. They found for themselves ample proof of the existence of God. And shall our puny minds be more difficult to satisfy than were these great and searching intellects? That would be rather strange.

CONSCIENCE DEMANDS A GOD

The Universe demands a God. From the starry heavens to the tiniest blade of grass, all things created speak the praise of God, the Creator. Science, too, demands a God. What now of the psychological and moral world? Yes, this world also, this wonderful world within us, tells us that God lives. For Conscience demands a God.

Every normal being recognizes in his own consciousness a law which commands good and forbids evil. Even if nobody sees or knows of his misdeeds he yet feels covered with shame on account of them. He experiences a highly unpleasant sensation when he has done wrong-feels in some indefinable way that he has hurt or offended someone, even when no fellow-mortal is in the least concerned or injured by his act. He has, in short, a feeling of anxiety and guilt, a feeling that there is something to be made good, a feeling that justice has been injured. Is not that so? Is not that your own experience?

5 Bouguer: an 18th-century explorer and mathematician, associated with La Condamine and others in the determination of the earth’s curvature.

Mark well that when someone else does evil your feelings are altogether different. You are not ashamed if your neighbour has drunk too much, nor have you a sense of guilt when someone else commits a murder. Therefore it is patent that this inward voice concerns itself only with what you do, whether good or evil. Is that not so?

What, then, does this prove? It proves that there is Someone whose voice makes itself felt in your inmost being and whose law you feel in your heart-and that this Someone is not yourself.

In the first place, there is that sense of shame. Now, nobody can feel ashamed before a thing, but only before a person. Then there is that feeling of having hurt somebody. This feeling is quite correct. Someone has been hurt, someone has been offended. Thus it follows that the inward voice of which you are aware is the voice of a person, for one cannot offend things. Besides, there is that sense of guilt. But guilt towards whom? Again, one cannot feel guilty towards things nor towards oneself. Therefore, there must be some Person to whom we are answerable for our works. And it is in relation to this Person that we feel oppressed with a sense of guilt and misery in wrong-doing.

NO FELLOW-MORTAL

Therefore, it is obvious that the Voice of Conscience is the voice of another person, and this other person can be no fellow-mortal. Human beings cannot command and coerce us as this Voice does. We can, in a certain sense, ignore or observe human laws as we will, but no living mortal can ignore or escape from the Voice of his own conscience. Human laws have been made by human beings and can, therefore, be repealed by human beings. But no living mortal can rescind or annul this law of our inmost being.

If the Person whose voice speaks in our conscience and whose law commands us so imperiously, is no human being, nor yet an angel, then he can only be God Himself. For only the God who created us could make such demands, covering as they do the whole of our existence. Only a God, who called us into life, can make these laws from which no mortal has ever been able to claim exemption, and which bind us rather as expressing the voice, the will, the law of a Supreme Being, than because of their, or our, relation to human society. Our Conscience, therefore, proves that God lives and rules.

Just as the wonderful world about us demands a God, so too does the equally wonderful world within us. The scent of the tiniest flower breathes forth the power of the Creator just as convincingly as does the mightiest wonder of the starry heavens. So also, the smallest breath of peace which gladdens our conscience when we do a kind act proves as surely the existence of God as does the feeling of misery which as inevitably follows the most momentary fall from grace. The scorching, consuming pangs of Cain’s conscience and the great serene peace of Abel’s, tell with equal eloquence that God lives. For His is the Voice of Conscience.

MAN WITHOUT THE DIVINE LAW

But let us for argument’s sake try to imagine for a moment that there is no God, no Voice in our Conscience. Then all the great men and women of all times, who followed, shall we say, their finer instincts, and not their own desires and fleshly passions, must have been misguided creatures. All the great, noble minds of the race were merely victims of illusion. And the slaves of the senses, the worshippers of Mammon, the tempters and despoilers of youth, the cowards and the traitors-all these wretched people were the really wise and enlightened members of the human family!

If, indeed, it is not God who speaks in our conscience, then conscience itself is nothing better than a wretched instrument of torture which pursues and persecutes those who follow their lower instincts. If it is not God who guides us through the Voice of Conscience, then the Voice of Conscience loses its meaning, and the so-called immutable moral laws are nothing more than mere arrangements of expediency, which humanity has instinctively evolved for its own preservation.

Without conscience moral values cease to exist. Good and evil stand on the same footing. Unselfish service becomes foolishness; self-sacrificing love, a mere softness; devotion to one’s neighbour, just a fad; all faithfulness, mere stupidity; purity of heart, a habit or convention. Then the chaste virgin soul is no more beautiful than the soul of the libertine.

CONCLUSION

Reason recoils before this picture of the human race without God, without the Divine law of Conscience. If God did not reign in the human conscience humanity would be long since bankrupt of virtue and justice, vice and vulgarity would reign supreme, and all ideals would be shattered. But there is a Law of Conscience, a Divine law planted immutably in the soul of man, and this Law is the reason and source of all virtue. As Renan so truly put it: “The virtue of the human race is the best final proof of the existence of God.”

Reason, then, proves to us that there is a God who is the Creator of the world and the Lawgiver of Mankind, the Father of his children and the Preserver of the race of men. He is the final judge who will right all wrongs, avenge all injustice, and render to everyone according to his works.

What a reasonable, happy, and comforting outlook; how different from the barren desert of thought in which the Atheist lives. Only those whose consciences are utterly spoiled by the spirit of Untruth can still dare to doubt.

Listen to the voice, to the cry, of your Conscience:

“THERE IS A GOD!”

APPENDIX

BY REV. P. DE TERNANT

There is an excellent little work by Fr. Kneller, S.J.,

“Christianity and the Leaders of Modern Science,” which goes steadily through the history of science in the nineteenth century alone, and shows what an enormous number of real scientific discoverers believed in God, and said that in studying the facts of nature they were worshipping the Creator. This work has been translated into English, and is full of quotations from their speeches and writings. The following names will be of special interest to English readers:

Humphrey Davy, Brewster, Faraday, Lord Kelvin; Dalton, founder of the chemical theory of atoms; Buckland, Lyell, Murchison, Conybeare, and Sedgwick, geologists of the first rank; Owen, perhaps the equal of Cuvier in comparative anatomy, and first director of our own Natural History Museum; Lord Rayleigh, chemist, discoverer of the gas argon in the atmosphere; Rankine and Joule, well-known in connection with engines. This may look like a mere list of names, but it is impossible to compress into the space here available the substantial portion of scientific history that they represent. Some of these will be recognized by anyone as having achieved universal fame. There are many others. One cannot comment here on the still longer list of continental names, largely Catholic ones. The subject can be pursued in Fr. Kneller’s book, and also in the following:- Catholic Churchmen in Science,” J. J. Walsh, two series; “Religious Belief of Scientists,” A. Tebrum; various works by the late Professor Windle; all of which, if still in print, can be procured to order. One might take the opportunity of reminding readers that the. . . . pamphlets are only intended as introductions, and the information they contain is nothing more than a pointer in the direction of more extended study.

To return to the scientists; Fr. Kneller has some striking passages concerning the religious belief of Sir Charles Bell (died 1842), one of the founders of nerve physiology, but he does not mention Sir James Paget, the great Victorian surgeon and pathologist, who was largely responsible for raising the medical profession from something rather disreputable to its present high position. His incessant activity as a lecturer and as an organiser of medical education and administration forms part of the real history of the nineteenth century. The lofty moral tone that pervaded his whole life was the direct outcome of his religious conviction. Here are just three extracts, out of many, from “The Memoirs and Letters of Sir James Paget, 1901.”

In April, 1837, as a lonely student in Paris, he wrote to his fiancee:

“Among all the blessings of this life I can indeed thank God for you.” The marriage was a happy one. In 1880 he wrote:-”Forty-four years since we were engaged! May God grant us peace to the end, and then order all things mercifully for us, that our end may be according to His will.” During his last illness, in 1899, he roused himself once a week at 6.30 in the morning to receive the Church of England Communion from one of his sons, who was a clergyman; and just before his death he received it from another son who was a bishop.

The greatest public event of his life was his presidency of the International Medical Congress, 1881. In the presence of the Prince of Wales (later King Edward VII), the Crown Prince Frederick of Germany, Cardinal Manning, the Archbishop of York, and over 3,000 medical delegates of all nations, he wound up his inaugural speech in these words :

“Let us resolve, then, to devote ourselves to the whole science, art, and charity of medicine. Let this resolve be to us as a vow of brotherhood; and may God help us in our work.”

Sir James Clark Ross, discoverer of the North Magnetic Pole, and leader of the celebrated “Erebus and Terror” Expedition to the Antarctic, 1839, wrote in his narrative that some of the dreadful dangers through which he passed wer e “sufficient to fill the stoutest heart, that was not supported by trust in Him who controls all events, with dismay . . . Each of us secured our hold, waiting the issue with resignation to the will of Him who alone could preserve us.”

And the following anecdote may be new to many English readers. Telford, the famous engineer, who constructed the suspension-bridge over the Menai Strait, was in a great state of anxiety when the time came to raise the first chain into position. He could hardly keep still, and disappeared from the scene. When the chain was safely in position his friends ran to congratulate him, and found him on his knees giving thanks to God.

Thus we see that the study of this world does not necessarily lead us away from the other. Rather, natural science is calculated to rouse in us the spirit expressed in the beautiful memorial in Kew church to Sir J. D. Hooker, for many years director of Kew Gardens, whose advice on medicinal and economic botany has been of incalculable value to the Empire and to the world:

THE WORKS OF THE LORD ARE GREAT

SOUGHT OUT OF ALL THAT HAVE PLEASURE THEREIN

In Captain Scott’s last letters, found with his body between the South Pole and his base, we read:-”The Great God has called me. But take comfort in that I die in peace with the world and myself-not afraid.” and his Diary concludes: “We shall stick it out to the end, but we are getting weaker, of course, and the end cannot be far. It seems a pity, but I do not think I can write more:

R. SCOTT

LAST ENTRY:”FOR GOD’S SAKE LOOK AFTER OUR PEOPLE.”

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Family Life Today

MOST REV. J. W. GLEESON, D. D

INDEX

A PERSONAL NOTE

Fathers and mothers of the present and future-I am writing these pages in the hope that they may be of help to you in your family life. They are an attempt to point out evils and to suggest the remedies which are an application of Christian principles. If you can discuss these ideas with others, you will gain greater value from them. Further, you may thus be able to take part in the very worthwhile task of promoting Christian family life.

THE FAMILY

The family is the basic unit of society. It is essential that this fact should be known and remembered by legislators, educators, and especially by parents. Christ sanctified the family, and the Church has always regarded it as one of her sacred duties to protect family life and to promote the spiritual and temporal welfare of the family. It is in and through family life that most people will save their souls. Therefore, we should appreciate the importance of the family and of those dings that protect the family. We should also know just how menacing is anything that threatens the stability, the unity, the happiness and the complete development of family life.

IS ANYTHING WRONG?

Only those who are completely blind to modern trends will be unaware of the fact that vicious attacks from within and without are being made upon the family in these days. The future offers no immediate sign of a change in this. Rather does the position seem to grow worse from day to day with the increasing influence of materialism and naturalism and the concomitant decline in the practice of religion, particularly outside the Catholic Church.

I. WITHIN THE HOME

Let us get it clear that a home is not just a building of so many squares. A home is a place-a centre of life is perhaps a better description-in which the mutual love of husband and wife radiate to each other and also to those children who are begotten through loving union. Unless this union of the husband and wife is based on love, respect and discipline, there are positive dangers to all those who live in that house with insecurity, unhappiness, even hatred, as the consequences.

With the mention of dangers to the family our minds usually turn immediately to such things as comics and films. I think you will agree, however, after more serious reflection, that the most insidious dangers can come from within the home itself. Unless in the home there is mutual love and respect based on the love of God and trust in His Providence, the greatest danger of all is striking at the heart of the family and of the children.

RELIGION IN THE HOME

Religion must be a vital force in family life-something to be lived by all its members. If religion is regarded merely as a nuisance on Sunday mornings, or only as a subject for children at school, there can be no true religious life in the home. Have you ever thought of the consequences of this?

Perhaps we are inclined to think that delinquent or troublesome children only come from poor and neglected homes-from the sub-standard dwellings that form the slum areas of big cities-the houses with broken windows and rickety doors and furniture-the houses where filth lies undisturbed and where dirty and shabbily clothed children are subjected to obvious immoral companionship and environment. From these houses we more or less take it for granted that there will be troublesome children coming forth

- children who lack love and respect-respect for others, respect for the law. We are usually, though not always, correct in this judgement.

Unfortunately, however, with the decline of religion in public life, we have adopted an attitude of mind in which we think that, provided all the material needs of the children are satisfied, everything else is satisfactory for sound home life and training of children. Experience teaches us almost the opposite. True love and respect, not financial standing, are the essential qualities of a good home.

SAD EXAMPLE

Let us consider a few examples from real life which have come to my notice.

The first was a case of over-indulgent parents. Their girl had been given a very expensive church schooling. When she reached the age of eighteen years, she received a car for her own personal use and was allowed to go wherever she liked. Her parents, though nominally Christian, were, in fact, pagans, but good, “nice” people. The daughter, in spite of her respectable parents, on leaving school was soon in constant trouble with the law because of her immoral life and association with criminals. In other words, according to the common statement, “She had let her family down.” But had she? They did not lift her up. They supplied everything on the material level, but nothing on the spiritual level. Now she is living solely on that material level on which, though admittedly in a more “respectable” manner, her parents have lived.

Another is the case of a Catholic girl who always went to a convent school. Three months after she left school she dropped the practice of her religion. On investigation, it was found that there was absolutely no religious life whatsoever in her home. The parents did not attend Mass. In their home there were no private or family prayers, no reverence for God, no religious pictures; there was a picture of nudes in the front room. The girl afterwards lived with a married man and said, “I hate my parents.” Yes-she hated the parents who gave her a Catholic schooling and all that went with it, but who did not give her a love of spiritual things; they did not give her a love of God and a respect for the laws of God and man.

TWO EXAMPLES

These two examples happen to concern girls, but boys are concerned just as much, if not more. I could quote more examples but these two suffice to illustrate how important it is for parents to be aware of their obligation to supply more than the material needs of their children. In other words, the home must provide a real and vigorous religious life, supported by the mutual love, respect, sympathy and understanding of parents and children. Sometimes this parental concern comes too late. When one of the girls to whom I referred had reached the age of eighteen years and had disgraced her parents, the father wanted to whip her. If perhaps he had used his discipline with love and respect when she was younger there would have been no occasion for severity later. But this particular father had been too indulgent all along. He had let the child do what she liked. When she satisfied her whims as a young woman, he did not appreciate it. But that was the way he had trained her.

THE ATTITUDE OF PARENTS

This is what happens. Babies can be so cute, interesting and entertaining. But when they get about three or four the situation changes. Let’s take just one example: Dad is trying to read the paper and is interrupted by a stream of questions: “Why does the light burn, Daddy?” and “where does the electricity come from, Daddy?” and many other problems that confront the developing mind of the growing child. Dad gets tired of it, loses his patience and yells, “Oh! go and play.” Perhaps money for sweets is given as a bribe. It is interesting to note in passing, how frequently children are reprimanded for being impatient while their parents are constantly displaying impatience in their presence.

Where there is a persistent attitude of no give and take, no consideration for the child’s queries and difficulties, there is this result: when the child finds it has some real need or has a real question, it will not go to Dad or Mum because “They don’t understand me. They don’t want to answer questions.” In such cases, it is clear that those early years of the child’s life, with the wonderful opportunity which they offer between the child and the parent, are being wasted, because Dad or Mum or both are too selfish.

So you see, we need to remember this: those early years from babyhood are the times for building up that attitude of confidence and respect which is so essential in the problems later on. Take, for example, the child who asks, “Daddy, where do babies come from?,” and he hears, “Oh! Go and ask your mother.” The child asks his mother, and the mother says, “Oh! The storks bring them.” The child knows it is not being told the truth because Dad wouldn’t have behaved the way he did, and Mum wouldn’t have looked so embarrassed if she were speaking honestly. Then comes a day when the child wants to know further information of this nature and it will ask a little playmate down the street who knows all the answers and is very proud to tell everybody else about it. Once this situation has arisen the parents have forfeited the privilege of giving this most intimate and important knowledge to their children, because the child has lost confidence in them.

HELPS FOR THE PARENTS

That is why the proper attitude of confidence must be built up from the earliest years. If it is not, there is a serious danger coming into the family. Of course, sometimes parents haven’t the faintest idea of the way they should answer their children’s questions. Parents must equip themselves with the knowledge and methods required to explain and meet the various needs of their children, particularly in the matter of questions about sex. There are many books, both good and bad, on this matter. Some good ones are: You Are Her Mother and He’s Your Son (small pamphlets available from Catholic bookshops and the Advocate Office. Christopher’s Talks to Catholic Parents, by David Greenstock (Burns, Oates), is also very helpful. Worthy of special mention here for adolescents are the books: Youth Looks Ahead (A Guide for Catholic Girls), by Sr. Winefride, and The Years Between (A Guide for Catholic Boys), by P. F. Dorian, both published by the Polding Press, Brisbane.) But never think that you will solve all the problems by giving your child a book. It is rather a question of building up, giving as much and only as much, knowledge as the child needs and can understand at the particular age it has reached. Your dealing with your child will be a revelation of your whole appreciation of the dignity and sacredness of life, of your own attitude towards sex. These will be revealed because your own attitude to your child is yourself, your whole life, and that is what you reveal when you answer your children’s questions. Besides using books, there are other ways of equipping yourselves-school parents’ study groups, Christian Family Groups, Cana Conferences and also pre-Cana Courses before marriage. You well know all the trouble people take to fit themselves to earn their living. It is reasonable to ask, “Do you go to at least an equivalent amount of trouble to fit yourselves for the most worthy dignity of being a father, or of being a mother?” Sometimes the answer must be “No.”

AUTHORITY AND DISCIPLINE

Because of the need of proper discipline in the home, authority must be used, but used wisely. Sometimes the discipline in a home is harsh. In these homes it is not, “Do this because it is a reasonable and good thing to do it,” but “Do this because I say so, and don’t dare to ask why.” Such an attitude can build up a spirit of rebellion among the children. There will, of course, be times when Dad or Mum must lay down the law. Also it is wise for both Dad and Mum to agree on the required rules and remedies before taking any action. On no account should they disagree over this in the presence of the children. Once children know that they can play one parent off against the other, their authority is seriously weakened. While the use of authority presents difficulties in dealing with young children, it can present tremendous difficulties in the case of adolescents. The adolescent is not inclined to rely on others and has not yet gained sufficient insight to be capable of understanding the necessity and right of authority. He may reveal this in various ways, he may seem to be ashamed of his parents because they are out of date; he wants to rebel against all authorized and traditional authority; he wants to show that he is no longer a baby; he may rebel against parents who continually nag that he is not progressing satisfactorily in school work; he, and probably more frequently she, is antagonized by coercion in what they think are trivials.

YOUTH CAN CO-OPERATE

In solving the various problems, it is necessary to work with adolescents and not against them. To let them see that there are reasons for things in both individual and general cases. The adolescents in families can be assisted to make their own rules and to see that they are kept.

It is amazing what results can be achieved in this way, particularly in such matters as the performing of duties at home, the number of evening outings per week, spending and saving, etc.

Do not mistake me, however, by thinking that there is no place for direct parental authority. It is essential that this must exist and be exercised, but exercised in a reasonable and sensible fashion. In the Encyclical on the Christian Education of Youth by Pope Pius XI we read: “Parents and all who would take their place in the work of education should be careful to make the right use of the authority given to them by God. This authority is not given for their own advantage, but for the proper upbringing of their children in a holy and filial “fear of God, the beginning of wisdom” on which foundation alone all respect for authority can rest securely.”

Sometimes, parents make the mistake of appealing to the perfection which they exercised when they were young, e.g., “When we were young, we were not allowed to do that,” or simply, “We always obeyed our parents when we were young.” Bad memories are probably the only excuses which can be offered to prevent such statements being lies. Sooner or later, the children will find out, perhaps from your own lips, that this perfection did not exist.

In obtaining the obedience of adolescents, it is well to remember that the principal incentive to voluntary action is found in the motive or reason for things. It is not sufficient that the motive be really one of value or importance, it must be one that really appeals to the particular individual. We need also to remember that supernatural motives, which are of the greatest worth in themselves, may not appear so at first sight. Further, we must lead up to supernatural motives by the use of natural motives offered by the interests and desires of the youth. Hence, the need to know the interests and desires of the specific boy or girl. This can only be obtained where there is intimate contact, as in the home or in the school. Careful observation can give this knowledge. All this is difficult, but it is very worthwhile. For unless we can reach the adolescent in his intimate interests and desires we cannot move him. But if we have achieved some insight into them, we can really inspire youth. And he, who can inspire, holds youth in the hollow of his hand.

We must recognize the need for intelligent, prudent and co-ordinated discipline in every home. If it does not exist, respect for authority in the home and outside of it will be destroyed.

THE ADOLESCENT

Because of the special difficulties that many parents experience with their adolescent children, I think it is profitable to devote some attention to this particular age group.

With the onset of adolescence comes a period that is essentially one of trouble and of problems for the individual. Accordingly, it is usually a period of unrest and uncertainty. The reliability of things and of persons vanishes, not because these persons or things have become different, but because the adolescent’s relations towards them have changed. This change of relations is due to the change in the individual himself, or rather, to the consciousness or awareness he has of himself. The happy unconsciousness of his early childhood is lost for ever. Within himself and in his personality, there are rapid changes going on. To him the world and the people in it present an ever-changing aspect.

Nobody can ever hope to understand the adolescent mind and even less to influence it somewhat, unless he is fully aware of the fact that uncertainty is the very basic feature of this age.

Yet we frequently meet with adults who judge the growing generation with impatience or even with harshness. They have left their own youth behind them, and distance lends enchantment to many things. They have forgotten that the frivolity, the heedlessness and the simple efforts towards adjusting themselves, which they now find so irritating in the adolescent, were equally galling to their elders when they were young.

THE MAIN PROBLEM

This brings me to the fact that we need to remember each individual who is growing up, and must not place all adolescents in one and the same mould.

The central phenomenon and the real problem of adolescence is the formation of the definite self. All other features and factors, such as sexual growth and awareness, are aspects of this one central process. One can never hope to attain a real understanding of the adolescent mind unless one fully acknowledges the central and fundamental importance of this process of formation and consolidation of self. This process is revealed in uncertainty, which becomes the very characteristic of adolescence.

The dawning consciousness that he is becoming a distinct person makes the adolescent feel that he ought to be able to rely on himself, that he ought to be independent in his decisions, that he ought to become fully responsible for his actions. From this arises the longing for independence, a tendency for self-assurance, the unwillingness to listen to advice and the repugnance of blind obedience. In simpler and less dignified language, we see arise in these young people the “don’t fence me in” attitude.

Little children in the average good home develop an unquestioning confidence in their parents. With adolescents, this attitude vanishes quickly and so it is important that the infantile attitudes of parents be replaced by ones adequate to the individual stages of development. This replacement often fails to take place on the part of the parents because they do not understand what is happening with their child. They do not notice, or very often, they do not want to know, that their child is no longer the little, helpless and implicitly trusting being he was but a few months before. They are shocked or disappointed to see the charming traits of childhood disappear.

WHAT PARENTS CAN DO

Instead of adjusting themselves to the new situation, instead of trying to understand this new personality of their child, parents often reproach him for things for which he should not be held responsible. Sometimes they try to treat him as if he were still a little child.

This is a most unhappy and dangerous situation. Parents should try to observe and follow carefully the gradual changes in their child and adjust their attitude and their measures to them. They should avoid all behaviour which undermines the original trusting love of the child. Their neglect in these matters may have no immediate effect, but impressions keep on rankling in some secret place in the child’s mind and they become influential the very moment problems arise within the child-problems which make confidence difficult, obedience loathsome, tenderness repulsive. Parents should be happy to be able to help their children to grow up, to be able to depend upon and to be able to control themselves.

THE ADOLESCENT NEEDS HELP

Because of his uncertainty, the adolescent may not know what is really wrong with himself, or why he needs help, and even if he has some vague idea of these things, he frequently does not know how to express it because all his experiences are new and different. With the slowly growing consciousness of being a distinct person, having to live his own life, the adolescent mind develops a natural reluctance to disclose itself. What makes the parents, who have been accustomed to the open-mindedness of the child, call the adolescent reticent, secret and impenetrable is, in truth, the first manifestation of a normal and even necessary quality of an adult mind. One may give to this quality the name of discretion, meaning the right discernment of things to be told and things to be withheld. The adolescent, because of his essential uncertainty, does not as yet know how to steer a middle course. Accordingly, he may be very outspoken one day and become utterly reticent the next. For this reason, it is well to make use of every opportunity he offers of getting to know him and his problems better. It will never do with adolescents to put them off, because we can never be sure that tomorrow they will be as willing to confide and to listen as they are today.

UNCERTAINTIES

This state of uncertainty to which I have referred is at the bottom of what is so often alluded to as the fickleness of the adolescents. They are fickle, no doubt; their interests change rapidly; they form friendships that do not last; they get enthusiastic about things that bore them soon afterwards; they are meek today and stubborn tomorrow, willing to work for a short spell and soon disgusted with everything concerned with work; they may be friendly, considerate and then cross, egotistic, impossible to approach. All these things and many similar things are true. But all the changes made, all the difficulties caused by them, all the trouble at school and at home, are but external signs of the inner uncertainty.

If you add to all this the question of the end of school days, the selection of the kind of work that they want, the new problems of work and environment, you can see that those who are responsible for adolescents are faced with a situation in which they must give tremendous help and never-ending sympathy and understanding.

It is well to mention here that much of the modern increased understanding of youth and of its problems fails to benefit the adolescent as it should because the one force, that can protect him and counteract the very dangers to which he is exposed, is invoked but very little and, in some quarters, it is not invoked at all. I mean the force of supernatural religion. It is a regrettable fact that much of the literature on adolescence is frankly naturalistic and materialistic. We must keep in mind the fact that in our Catholic Faith and in the sacramental helps supplied by it, we have the answer to our needs.

RELIGION IN THE HOME

Here again right attitudes are very important. In the home there must be respect for God, there must be prayer, must be talk about God and what God wants, and His goodness and His kindness, His Providence. Threats about God’s punishments should not be necessary. God should be presented to the children as a loving Father, exemplified to the children in their own loving father and mother.

Religious practices will present problems in the home. Let us consider, e.g., the Rosary. This is long and tiring for little children, and if they get into an awful row because they wriggle a little or if they giggle occasionally, they will start to dislike the Rosary. The same can happen if children are lined up for Confession and Communion on every possible occasion without their first being given the opportunity of deciding to receive the Sacraments of their own accord. This may particularly apply in the families of very devout parents. Perhaps later on the children will say, “I’m sick of religion. I’m finished with it.”

Again, a danger is coming into the lives of these children from within the family itself not from neglect of religion, but from a mistaken attitude on the part of parents in the religious life of their children.

WITHIN THE HOME -A SUMMING UP

In the above pages you can see my reasons for stressing that the greatest dangers that can come to young people are frequently the dangers from within their own family. But, if the family is firmly grounded in the love of God, relying on His Providence, and the other points to which I have referred are remembered, it doesn’t matter so much about the other dangers with which I shall now deal. The children will have the right approach and will be equipped and strengthened by their Faith and their family to face them.

II. OUTSIDE THE HOME

In the next pages we shall consider some outside influences which can present dangers to children and the family.

SCHOOLS

In the light of the sacrifices made by Australian parents for their Catholic schools, I do not think there is any need for me to stress here the importance of the Catholic school. But it is true that people sometimes think they have done everything when they have sent their child to a Catholic school or that they need do nothing to train a child before sending it to a Catholic school. Some children come to school without knowing even how to make the Sign of the Cross. This is a serious matter. If this happens to be your attitude, you are not fulfilling your part as a parent, because, remember this: The parents are the first and primary teachers of the children. Anybody else is in a secondary capacity. Teachers are in loco parentis, acting on your behalf, and therefore, they must co-operate with you and you must co-operate with them, because they’re working for you. Your duty to educate your child begins when it is born and continues until it becomes an adult. The teacher’s task directly affects only the years and times of school. If that were remembered, schools would do more because their teaching would be backed by the home training and could continue from it. In addition many school-parent difficulties would disappear. Once people know their duties and responsibilities most problems that arise in school life would cease to exist or be easily solved by parents and teachers having a clam and reasonable talk about them.

COMPANIONS

Friends are very important for children as well as for adults. Most parents are very particular about the kind of food their children eat. On this point, I may mention just in passing that some parents are not as careful as they ought to be about their children’s breakfasts. The number of children who come to school without any breakfast, except for a plate of cereals and some sweets, is amazing and disturbing. These children are not in a position to be obedient or to work hard in school. Sometimes, their other meals are also not of the type that will nourish them sufficiently and keep sickness away. However, we must grant that most parents are very careful about their children’s food. Yet sometimes they are not sufficiently careful about the companions with whom their children play. On this score, I think it well to remember that the children will pick their own playmates, but they should get into the habit of picking them with Dad’s and Mum’s help. Remember that there are some children who can be a definite menace to the morals and the whole outlook of your children. Sometimes children, even before they have started school, will come home and astound you by the vocabulary they have acquired. They have usually learned it from companions. If they can learn words, they can learn bad habits as well. Parents should be absolutely sure about the regular companions of their children. Where there are several good children together, others will not have quite so much influence. Remember! If you have built up the confidence of your children, they’ll come home and tell you everything that is going on. That information will solve many a problem and save much worry.

Investigations, conducted some years ago in an Australian city, revealed some really serious acts of immorality among quite young children. While the parks and dead-end streets were the most common places, some of these actually took place in the backyards of their own homes while mother was away or else inside thinking everything was all right. Frequently the mother did not know who were in the backyard with her children.

You must be sure that you know the companions of your children, whether they are very small or in their teens. On the other hand, your vigilance must not display distrust of them. I think it is a question once again of having developed the atmosphere of confidence with your children in their early years.

BOY-GIRL RELATIONSHIPS

This question of companions raises the further one of relationships between boys and girls. Parents and teachers of the adolescent are aware of the words spoken by Pope Pius XI to “remove occasions of evil and provide occasions for good in recreation and social intercourse.” However, there is reason to fear that sometimes the attempts to remove occasions of evil are often directed mainly, if not exclusively, in keeping a person away from bad companions. The other sex is in consequence, represented as a kind of enemy. Thus it happens that what is demanded with the best of intentions may prove inadequate for the preservation of that important virtue-chastity.

The attempt to preserve the chastity of youth by keeping them apart from persons of the other sex fails to obtain the desired result for a number of reasons. Segregation may in fact stimulate the imagination and cause more difficulties because of dangers from the same sex and also from movies, reading and other forms of entertainment. In the designs of an all-wise Providence, boys and girls drift apart in the years before adolescence but during adolescence naturally seek each other again. I think it is well to remember that it is God’s plan that they should be interested in one another and enjoy each other’s company. Normal contact between boys and girls on a social plane actually can provide enormous aids to purity. Respect and reverence for one another can grow and be inspired in these circumstances. On the other hand, if the other sex is regarded as an enemy, this falsehood creates new difficulties of its own. The people who try to create this attitude will also use terms which are incorrect and which ought to be abandoned, e.g., to speak of “impure parts of the body.” We know that every part of our body is made by God and therefore sacred to Him, but not impure. Instruction on this matter is a total fallacy if it does not make clear the essential fact that it is only the misuse of the body which is sinful. Because of wrong attitudes during adolescence, it is astounding to discover the number of married adults who cannot rid themselves of the feeling that the use of marriage is wrong. It is well to recall the opening words of the Encyclical on Christian Marriage by Pope Pius XI: “How great the dignity of chaste wedlock.” Parents themselves ought to acquire and also try to develop in their children the right attitude towards sex and discard the method of introducing fear of the other sex. Let them concentrate on a positive training of self-control in allowable and desirable social contacts.

PARTIES AND DRINK

On this question, I would like to refer to the topics of parties, drink and dress. Following on the lines of the materialistic psychology so common nowadays many parents have adopted the mistaken view that you must let young people do what they like and how they like. They are inclining more and more not to take their recreation and fun with their growing children. A drift away from entertainment in the home is another feature of this.

I think I have made it clear that it is important for young boys and girls to mix together at social functions. At these functions, however, it seems most desirable that Mum and Dad or other elders should be present, not as icebergs, but as the seniors, very happy to see the young people enjoying themselves. If this is done the excesses that occur at some parties in the way of playing love games with the lights out or going away from the party in unsupervised pairs will be avoided. Another modern craze, at the moment, is for young people to take alcoholic drink at parties and also before dances. Does it not seem staggering to you that adolescents should need the artificial stimulus of intoxicating drink so that they can enjoy themselves? Once young people, particularly girls, take drink, their natural reserve and modesty is broken down, and more serious consequences can easily follow. I think it would be a wonderful thing if young people would keep their Confirmation pledge or take a pledge when they are leaving school until they are twenty-one or, better still, until they are twenty-five. Parents should be happy to see their children become members of the Pioneer Total Abstinence Association of the Sacred Heart, not because drink in itself is an evil thing but so that they can make the sacrifice in reparation to God the Father for sins committed through drink. At the same time they will avoid many pitfalls for themselves.

MODESTY IN DRESS

A few brief lines on the question of dress. Through modesty in dress, the important virtue of chastity is promoted and protected. Dress should be an aid to good appearance and be in keeping with the particular social event. However, aided and abetted by materialistic and naturalistic philosophies, the designers of dress have adopted what might be called the “bare as you dare” policy. The designers completely ignore the question of original sin. They also completely forget the psychological and physiological difference between men and women. Rather perhaps than forgetting it, they are deliberately acting upon it, in the service of the Devil. Would that mothers would explain to their daughters the difference in the way men and women react to sex stimulation. Girls should realize that the average man cannot but experience difficulty in the control of thoughts and desires if the more intimate parts of their bodies are displayed, over-suggested, or over-emphasized before him. So too the growing girls should know that a boy is affected, e.g., by necking and petting, in a very different way from herself. This knowledge can enable a girl to avoid being an occasion of sin for the boy, and instead, to be a positive help to his virtue and her own. Likewise, the fathers should make this difference clear to boys who will then have a closer watch over themselves because of the knowledge that the girl may not realize the seriousness of intimate situations.

Catholic women have a great heritage of dignity from the Blessed Mother of God herself. I think it can be said, without any exaggeration, that Catholic women do not prize that heritage as they should and that many are following the train of pagan standards. I speak with feeling on this matter because I know for a definite fact that many of the adolescents now leaving school appreciate the importance of Christian modesty in dress. In carrying out their ideals they are hampered and discouraged by the example of their mothers and the attitude of their fathers. There is no one who can inspire them to higher ideals than their own mothers and it is a great tragedy if mothers fail them in this important matter.

LITERATURE

I have just read an article by a Catholic woman, which finished up with this sentence, “if the hand that rocks the cradle rules the world, surely it can rule the comics out.” That statement was worthy of serious consideration. In our daily and weekly papers you can find in one section an article condemning comics and the kind of lurid drawings and the lack of dress so noticeable in them. Yet even on the same page or on a page further over you will find far worse things among the advertisements or news reports and feature articles. There is all that inconsistency in our daily papers. In addition, you have the special journals and magazines for men and women. Some of them are worthwhile, but many of them contain very second-rate material. Practically all of them are materialistic in outlook. That is a well-known fact, and yet these publications are found in homes, and in Catholic homes. Are people prepared to realize that this literature can be a danger to their children’s outlook and attitude? That is the point I want to stress.

Attitudes are formed through reading, and constant reading of trashy romantic journals and comics cannot fail to sap the high ideals of young people. A single reading may not affect a person’s life and ideals but with continual reading you soon have people agreeing with the ideas and thinking that they are the fashionable and desirable things to do. The result is that when young people are placed in somewhat similar situations these are the solutions and attitudes that come to them. Are we sufficiently convinced that many of these attitudes are a positive danger to the morals and the sane Christian outlook and lives of our young people?

FILMS, RADIO, TV

There is a great number of people who send or agree to let their children go to the pictures every Saturday afternoon irrespective of the type and quality of the programme. This may be a gentle riddance from the selfish point of view of the parents, who convince themselves that the children will be all right. It is worth asking if, even from the physical point of view, it is a good thing for the children to be shut up in the pictures all Saturday afternoon, especially after they’ve been in school all the week? Another danger arises from traditions of behaviour that grow up in some theatres. For example, I have reliable evidence that, in some theatres, the behaviour of quite young boys and girls sitting in the darkened stalls was absolutely immoral. No doubt the absence of any form of suitable supervision by parents or theatre officials was partly responsible for this. So much for the physical and companionship aspects of picturegoing. In addition, there are the ideas that are put before the children. Through these, series of attitudes are built up as a result of going frequently to the pictures. If people would wake up and use their common sense they would pick the picture shows that are worth seeing. Also, they would use their heads while they are there. In turn, this would affect box-office returns and then encourage the production of the better type of picture. To help people in selecting and judging films, there are some very fine publications being produced by the Catholic Youth Movements. They can help in developing an intelligent attitude towards films, using them when they are good, and avoiding them when they are harmful.

Similar remarks apply to the use of television and radio. Selection of programmes should be made with both parents and children co-operating in the task. Once again it is essential to work with the children in protecting their own welfare.

SUPPORT FOR APOSTLES

I do hope that these pages have not appeared like a long, dull sermon damning all modern pleasures. We are living in the twentieth century and we are to be the apostles of the Christian Family in it. I am concerned about the matters mentioned in this pamphlet because, when you get an overall picture of the young people of a State, not just Johnny, Mary and Tommy, Joan and Brian, who form this particular good family, you can see the result of pagan influences at work; you can see the changes that are taking place. In Catholic Action groups are young people who study these problems and you can see how concerned they are. You see how much they realize the force of public opinion, and how helpless they feel in the face of it .They do what they can, but often they complain that if they had the support of their elders in a lot of these matters they could do far more about them. It is a task for all grown-up people and particularly for parents to back up these young people who try to do what is right, to enlighten those who are not sure what is right and to strengthen those who are too weak to do what is right.

THE HOME MUST BE CATHOLIC

Let us remember that, if the homes are really Catholic, the young people growing up in them will have the strength they need to face up to the various problems that arise from the force of public opinion and the mode of life that others lead around them.

It is the parents’ privilege to be the first teachers, to be the chosen ones in whom their children can place an all-embracing love and confidence. When the children reach adolescence, the worthy Catholic parents can be the sure refuge during those years of uncertainty when the personalities are being formed and consolidated. In spite of all the apparent faults and failures, the love, confidence and understanding of the parents will help them to triumph.

In overcoming the many modern dangers to children and the family there will be anxieties and disappointments in plenty. Is the effort worthwhile? A hundred times—yes. To quote the words of St. John Chrysostom in the early centuries: “What could be more important than to train the minds of childhood and to shape the habits of the young? In truth, far greater than any painter, far more excellent than any sculptor or any other artist ranks, in my esteem, the teacher, who moulds the character of youth.” And who can be a greater teacher than the parent? Let not parents be discouraged, let them go to Christ as Pope Pius XII said in his Encyclical on Christian Worship: “Let married people go in their crowds (to Communion) so that from the food they receive at the Sacred Table they may derive the power to train their children to be like Jesus Christ and to love Him.” Let them go to Mary for example and consolation, to her who saw the Son of God, made Man, advance in age and grace and wisdom under her guidance. To the Holy Ghost Who is the Spirit of Truth, let them turn for enlightenment and courage to carry out their noble work.

If parents do this, they will have homes which will be bulwarks against all attacks, homes which will be centres of Catholic life and work and worship.

Nihil Obstat:

Bernard O’Connor, Diocesan Censor.

Imprimatur:

@Daniel Mannix,

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis.

11/11/1963

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Family Prayers And Mixed Marriages

BY REV. KEVIN BYRNE

INDEX

I AM addressing myself in this pamphlet to any non-Catholic who is married to a Catholic. If you happen to belong to the gentle sex, I feel sure that you will not be upset when I refer to you as a man. You will be kind and patient enough to make the necessary changes in your own mind, whereas the unadaptable male resents being referred to as ‘she.’ I know that you are a good man, because otherwise your wife would not consider it an honour to have married you, but she does, no matter what she may pretend. I also know that you are a good Christian, because if you were not, your wife would not have troubled to give you this pamphlet on family prayers-the pagans of this country do not pray. However, even though you believe in the necessity of prayer, and the power of prayer, this business of family prayers may seem a bit too much of a good thing-and, of course, you are of a different religion from the rest of the family, which makes it rather difficult to pray together.

Well, let us take the two questions in the order in which they have appeared. Why should we have family prayers? We know that we must pray privately, as individuals, but why must we pray as a family? We can find the answer by just thinking a little about why we must pray privately. We accept the duty, but why? When we have our reasons, we shall easily see that the same sort of reasons can be given for saying family prayers.

NATURAL INSTINCT

Prayer is a thing which comes naturally to the soul of mankind. Since Christ came, we have been able to pray far more perfectly than ever before, because He taught us how to pray, and He gave us the Our Father as the model for all time. But before He came, men prayed, and in countries where our Lord has never been preached, men pray. Prayer, like God’s commandments, is written in the heart of man. He must have the help of God before he can pray, but God has put instincts and ideas in his mind which incline him towards prayer. If he follows these instincts, and develops these ideas and accepts God’s help, he will pray even if he has not yet been made a full member of God’s family by Baptism. One of our great instincts is gratitude. When a kind old lady gives a boy ten shillings, he is expected to say ‘Thank you.’ We all ought to be grateful for things which are done for us. Much bad blood is caused because of ingratitude. ‘I shouldn’t have minded,’ we are told, ‘if he had only shown that he appreciated my generosity.’ To say ‘Thank you’ is, indeed, the least we can do, but everybody expects that minimum as the automatic response to a kind action.

It is natural for us to be grateful. It is also natural for us to respect those who are cleverer than ourselves, or stronger, or more important, or even-although we stoutly deny it-those who are richer. A small boy is rapt in heroworship of his big brother with his rifle, and his immense greatcoat and his iron-shod boots. We naturally revere the queen, and, at least in principle, we respect the Government. We admire those who can quote volumes of poetry without taking thought or breath. We collect the autographs of famous footballers, actors, xylophone players and all the rest of them. We try to be superior, but we do admire excellence in other people, in whatever things they excel. We respect and have reverence for it, because it is natural to us.

We feel this reverence and respect particularly for our parents. They gave us life ; they listened undismayed to our infant screams, and suffered our childish faults in moderate silence ; they educated us, with some help from the State ; they fed us ; they clothed us ; they even loved us. In return, there waxes and grows in every man a mysterious feeling of awe, respect, reverence and love for his parents. One of the worst things we can say about anyone is that he neglects his parents, or is cruel to them; and the greatest punishment he can receive is to be treated in the same way by his own children because it is unnatural for children not to reverence their parents. If we follow our instincts, we must fulfil our duties to them.

Another basic urge of mankind is to ask for things. We are not usually patient enough to sit down and wait for good things to come to us-and, of course, if we were to do so, they wouldn’t come. We must either ask for what we want, or work for it ; then, when we have worked, we ask it as our due. It is sometimes possible to, acquire things by just taking them without asking, but, by and large, this is frowned on by the common consent of the whole human race. They call it stealing. And although we do not really mind certain people taking things from us, we always like to be asked. Sometimes this is just our vanity or our pique, but usually it is because we realize instinctively that it is the right thing between humans to ask for what we want.

To ask for things makes us realize that we are ourselves lacking in some respects (which keeps us from being proud and independent) ; it gives due honour to someone else as the owner of things which we do not possess ; it safeguards the natural rights of private property ; it offers security to those who are weak ; and, of course, it always gives the other a chance to refuse, thus bringing home to us that we are not in the privileged position of modern children who have only to ask, in order to receive, even if it makes them sick.

We shall not always receive what we ask for from men, but we know that if we do not ask we certainly shall not receive. Asking is natural to us. That is why, when we want to show how clever and almost humanly intelligent our dog is, we train him to beg, even at the expense of the poor animal’s dignity. It is a very human thing to ask for favours although we do not express ourselves by flopping backward on the ground with our front paws in the air.

If, however, at any time we have gone against any of the natural instincts we have been describing, and have done what everyone realizes is wrong, we feel bound to apologize. If we have hurt someone, we hasten to do what we can to make amends. To say that we are sorry is necessary to our peace of mind ; it is unnatural not to do so. Quarrels of years can be healed by an .apology. Once we express regret for having treated others unjustly, a great cloud is lifted. We may still owe them a large sum of money, but when once we have promised to pay it back, and especially when we have begun to do so, our offence is forgiven. When we have completely paid our debt, and satisfied every claim, it is forgotten.

Here, then, we have four great instincts which are deeply implanted in our hearts-gratitude for favours, reverence for those who are in some way greater than ourselves, petition for things we need, and reparation for what we have done wrong. There are many other inclinations which are natural to us, but we take these four as an example.

PRIVATE PRAYER IS NATURAL

If we now go on to think of God, and our relations to Him, we shall be led by these inclinations to pray. God has given us everything. There is no need to write a list of our presents from Him because it includes everything good which we value. There is nothing good which does not come from God, because all things were made by Him. There is much evil in the world, but a great deal of it is brought about by sin. We sin when we abuse our free-will to act in defiance of God’s commandments. We have only ourselves to blame if we bring evil on ourselves by sin.

Some things, like sickness or poverty, are often not caused by sin, or not by the sins of those who suffer from them, but they form part of the natural hazards of life, like bunkers on a golf-course. God has put them there in order to test us, but if we use them as God intended, even these physical evils will bring us good in this world, or in the next.

Everything good, then, is from God. He showers favours on us, and He keeps us from misfortunes, so that we are compelled to be grateful to Him, to say ‘Thank you’ to Him. We are grateful to all those who do us good, from our open-handed neighbours to those who send us food from abroad. It would be monstrous to make exceptions where God is concerned and to let Him be the only one in the world whom we refuse to thank. We tell God of our gratitude and full appreciation of His goodness. This is one form of prayer.

Of course, there are other ways. God is All-Perfect, He is excellent in every respect, so excellent that there is no limit to His Perfections, and we call Him Infinite-limitless-in all that is good. Therefore we must respect Him, and revere Him, because it is natural for us to do so, and this respect and reverence which we owe to God is called Adoration. It is a special sort of reverence which is given to God alone and to nobody else, because no one else can be compared to God.

Adoration, then, is another way of prayer. And when we think of God’s adorable nature, and how He is so perfect in every way, self-sufficient, all-powerful, never-failing, we become conscious of how weak and feeble we are. We are quite helpless. We have no hold on life ; just a little water or fire is enough to kill us. We are subject to disease and poverty. Frequently we are placed in positions where no human being can help us or can even understand the depths of our troubles. We feel urged to ask His help. A child asks his parents, because he knows that they will help if they can ; and a man asks his friends, because he can be sure of sympathy, even if they have nothing else to offer. But God can always help, and God is full of sympathy and love, because He made us, and is both father and mother to us. We ask God’s help, and this also is a prayer.

Sometimes, however, we cannot ask, because we are wretched in the knowledge that we have offended this good God. We know that He is good, and that His commandments are wise and just, and for our well-being, yet we have sinned. We must apologize, although that is too weak a word to express what we mean by making up for sin. Mere apology is not sufficient, if we have gravely injured somebody. We must also make reparation, or give compensation, in some way. But our sins have gravely injured God, in the sense that they are an enormity in His sight, and a frightful affront to Him who has been all-good to us. Therefore, in order to make reparation for our sins, we must pray, we must sacrifice, we must make amends to the best of our ability. All these ways of prayer, adoration, thanksgiving, asking favours and pardon for sin, are common to the whole of mankind-even to those who do not yet know Christianity, and all men who live good lives according to their own lights know it is only right for them to pray in these ways. We must all pray privately.

Indeed, if we were to think a little further on the same lines, we should discover that the State should also pray ; that the State should offer public prayers for the same reason that we should offer private prayers-because the State, like ourselves, was made by God, and in gratitude, in sorrow, in petition, the State should humbly adore Him. But to discuss it further might be wearisome and so, having merely mentioned the fact, we pass on to something which interests you more-your own family.

BUT WHAT ABOUT THE FAMILY?

Your family is part of you, it is an extension of your own personality. You and your family are inextricably bound together into one unit. Society is made up of families, not of individuals. The State is not like a giant ant-heap, with millions of lonely citizens rushing in and out of its citadel with huge burdens on their backs, and no thoughts in their heads but to increase productivity or perish. The State is composed of thousands of families, just as the body is composed of thousands of cells ; and God made the family.

Only within the loving shelter of a family can a child be adequately educated in body and soul. God intended the human race to continue, and if it were not for the natural institution of marriage-that permanent union of man and wife in mutual love and fidelity-the human race could not remain, because the children could not survive without it. The family was made by God. Therefore the family also should, under its own roof, openly adore God, thank Him for His benefits, beg Him to continue His protection, and ask His pardon for all the sins, great or small, which have been committed by the members of that family.

Admittedly, if all the family are fulfilling their religious duties, if they say their individual prayers, if God is spoken of with due honour in the family circle, and there are reminders of God and heavenly things in the form of religious books and pictures and statues, we cannot say that the family is not religious. But can a family give God perfect honour and glory, if its members do not pray together, when there is very little to prevent them ? No ; such a family is not doing enough. God has brought them together in every possible way-they live within the same walls, they eat at the same table, they meet the same friends ; they share their recreation, their family jokes, their happiness, and they give each other mutual consolation in sorrow. All the family receive the same favours from God, it is to Him they owe these communal and public benefits. They ought to recognize these benefits, communally and publicly. They should have family prayers.

We are quite certain of this. You personally should pray, because God made you. The State should pray, because God made it, and your family should pray because God also, in His goodness, made your family, and lent those children to you that you might keep them and guard them for Him. People are beginning to realize this more and more.

THE FILM STARS’ FAMILY PRAYERS

When a priest speaks of family prayers, you expect it ; when an ordinary working man says it, you perhaps take more notice ; but even film stars are saying it now. We know what is frequently found among film stars-polygamy, materialism, and unbelievably high charges for their valueless time-but I assure you that many of them are now keenly interested in the spread of the old Christian custom of family prayers. There is a weekly radio programme in the U.S.A. called ‘Family Theatre,’ contributed to by the most famous script writers in country-True Boardman and Charles Tazewell are now engaged in preparing their own half-hour-and this programme is for the spread of family prayers and that alone. None of the writers and none of the actors are paid for their work, they get nothing out of it although they receive God’s blessing, and reckon that as the highest possible salary.

As for the actors themselves-their names read like a ‘Hit Parade.’ Bing Crosby, Loretta Young, Don Ameche, Charles Boyer, Joe E. Brown, Joan Leslie, Dick Haymes, Lionel Barrymore, Maureen O’Hara, Charles Bickford, Irene Dunne, Jeanne Crain, Dennis Day, Fibber McGee, Barry Fitzgerald, Ruth Hussey, William Gargan, Frank McHugh, Pat O’Brien, Gregory Peck, Maureen O’Sullivan and James Stewart are among the ever-growing number who have signed individual unremunerated contracts to join in this programme. This is the agreement they have signed :—‘To offer our American families the most necessary and fundamental protection against the dangers of our age, and for the purpose of bringing down on our country the special blessing of Almighty God, I am willing to help realize the proposed radio plan (now in action) of popularizing the practice of daily Family Prayers.’

These men and women are among the most highly-paid members of a rich and great nation, they live in luxurious surroundings, they are subject to every form of material temptation, yet in spite of it-perhaps because of it-they are ready to turn to God with their families and offer themselves to Him in family prayer. Their example is indeed inspiring to all men and women in this modern age, when the opinion is held and openly expressed that only cranks pray, and only fanatics would have family prayers. We begin to realize that in a properly ordered society, one that is running smoothly, in peace, on the lines of the Ten Commandments, with Christ as the Captain and the Helmsman, the normal man will pray, and he will pray with his family, and only cranks and fanatics will dare to attack such an obviously right and patently necessary institution as Family Prayer.

YOUR FAMILY MATTERS MOST

Think of your own family, now that you have read so far-your own Christian family. It has always been the custom for a Christian family to pray together. There is nothing new in the suggestion. It is not a modern stunt. It is part of the Christian tradition. When Christianity languishes, this decay is marked, and even hastened by the absence of prayer in the home. If Christianity is flourishing, or if it is to flourish in a family, the family must pay God its debt of prayer.

Your family is Christian. Christ has joined you and your wife in the sacrament of matrimony, and through this sacrament Christ gives you the graces to remain ever faithful to each other amidst an ‘adulterous generation.’ Christ gives you the help to live together in harmony, despite the frequent difficulties of your state. Christ has given you children who are also the children of God by Baptism ; and Christ has given you the glad duty of bringing up your children as Christians, in the fullest sense of the word.

A Christian should be another Christ, one who is fired with a deep and passionate love of God our Father, one completely devoted to God, one who shows this love by his self-sacrificing generosity to his neighbours. If you are to lead your children to complete Christian maturity, then give their souls the food of family prayers. In family prayers they will receive impressions which will never be erased, and they will learn by wonderful experience that their parents love God, and that when they tell their children to love God, they really mean it because they themselves practise it. Christ already reigns over your family, because you have all admitted Him as King over your inmost hearts. Do not allow Him to remain a hidden king, dwelling in obscurity, but give Him public honour in your family. Invite Him, by family prayers, to reign over every activity and to be always with you. Then, when the hour of darkness comes, and death or misfortune brings grief and sadness to your home, you will find an assured refuge in the pity and strength and love which flow from the Sacred Heart of Jesus Christ, whom you have so trustfully asked to protect you.

You know that the world is full of the sorrows of separation. The Communists hate the family, because it will not worship the State, and so it is their avowed aim to break it up. A man must do what he is told, even if it is wrong, if it is against all that he holds dear, if it is against his wishes and inclinations and abilities. His beloved family is the weapon used against himself. He will be refused rations for them. He will be directed to labour in distant parts. He will be imprisoned, and they will starve. His wife will be arrested. His children will be sent away to anti-God cattleshed schools, where they will be made to forget that they were ever blessed with parents. All these are threats, but they have been put into practice almost as often as they have been insinuated, and the world groans with the grief of stricken families. It may be that if you will begin family prayers now, if you will kneel down before the youngest child goes to bed, and pray together, you will turn away God’s anger from the world, and bring the hearts of wicked men back to God, before it is too late to save your own family.

The crisis is growing. It is a struggle between the Christian State, composed of Christian families, and the Communist State, with no families, but only herds. In a year or two we may be engulfed, as many other countries before us. The tide must turn, because God is not mocked. God will not tolerate the continuous swelling of pride and hatred against all that is good. But this does not mean that we shall be saved. Only God knows when He will say ‘Enough,’ and it may be when it is too late for you, when you are dead, and your family scattered, and your home deserted. Do all that is possible now, while there is yet time, and if God in His mercy will save our country from ruin and death, pray for the other families, who have no hope but in God, whose love you can enkindle by your own.

The difficulty still remains, that you are of a different religion from your wife and family. This is a great pity. You may not think so. You may never have felt it. In that case, there can be no objection to family prayers, except that Catholic prayers and practices are frequently strange to you-but if you look at the prayers I have suggested, I think you will find that they come very easily, and that you can therefore begin family prayers as soon as you like. If, on the other hand, you have begun to sense some feeling of tragedy in being divided from your wife in your worship of God-the thing that matters most in the world-then surely you will be impelled even more to pray as a family. If ‘the prayer of a just man availeth much,’ then the united prayers of a just man and his family will be of even greater value in the sight of God. He will be touched by your prayers, and will give you consolation in a way best known to Him.

An unfortunate thing about mixed marriages, as you will agree, is that often the children are far less religious than they would have been if their parents had married partners of their own religion. The parents cannot go to church together, and the children are starved of religion in the home. They are brought up spiritually cross-eyed, looking two ways at their two parents, and they think that, since their father and mother are united in everything else, but divided in religion, then religion cannot be of much importance, and they discard it as soon as they can. That will be a danger in your home, but you can go some way to prevent it by family prayers. Show them that Christianity is vitally important, and that you both prize it as your greatest possession-the pearl of the Gospel. And if you cannot yet, in conscience, worship in the Catholic Church with your wife and family, at least give them your whole-hearted parental support by kneeling with them in prayer to Jesus Christ, whom you love and adore, and whom you wish always to obey.

SUGGESTED PRAYERS

I recommend to you these following prayers. You will find very little that is strange to you, and nothing, I fancy, that you cannot accept. There are many such prayers in Catholic prayer books. If you would prefer to use others, then by all means do so. After the prayers you will find a few notes of explanation or comment on each one. I have omitted many of our customary and specifically Catholic prayers, so as not to impose too great demands on your forbearance. If you find any minor difficulties, then argue them out with your wife, but do not let them prevent you from accepting the principle that a Christian family should pray together every evening to our Blessed Lord Jesus Christ, our Saviour and our Lover, our Lord and our God.

1. Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be Thy name ; Thy kingdom come ; Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven ; give us this day our daily bread ; and forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive them that trespass against us ; and lead us not into temptation ; but deliver us from evil. Amen.

2. Hail; Mary, full of grace ; the Lord is with thee ; blessed art thou amongst women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, now, and at the hour of our death. Amen.

3. Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Ghost ; as it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be, world without end. Amen.

4. I believe in God, the Father Almighty, Creator of heaven and earth ; and in Jesus Christ, His only Son, our Lord who was conceived by the Holy Ghost, born of the Virgin Mary ; suffered under Pontius Pilate, was crucified, dead and buried ; He descended into hell ; the third day He rose again from the dead; ascended into heaven ; sitteth at the right hand of God the Father Almighty ; from thence He shall come to judge the living and the dead. I believe in the Holy Ghost, the Holy Catholic Church, the Communion of Saints, the forgiveness of sins, the resurrection of the body, and life everlasting. Amen.

5. My God, I believe in Thee, and all Thy Church doth teach, because Thou hast said it, and Thy word is true.

6. My God, I hope in Thee, for grace and for glory, because of Thy promises, Thy mercy and Thy power.

7. My God, because Thou art so good, I love Thee with all my heart, and for Thy sake I love my neighbour as myself.

8. O my God, I firmly believe that Thou art here and perfectly seest me, and that Thou art looking at all my actions, all my thoughts, and the most secret motions of my heart. Thou watchest over me with a wonderful love, every moment giving favours and keeping me from evil. Blessed be Thy Holy Name, and may all creation bless Thy sweet goodness, for the benefits which I have ever received from Thee, and particularly this day. Never allow me to be so wicked as to be ungrateful for all Thou hast done for me, or to offend Thee in return for Thy many blessings.

9. O my good God, I hate and detest all the sins which I have committed against Thee during my life, and especially the sins of this day, because Thou art so good, and sin displeases Thee. I love Thee with my whole heart, and make a firm resolution, by the help of Thy holy grace, never more to offend Thee. I promise not to do the things which may lead me into sin. Have mercy on me, O God, have mercy on me, and pardon me, because I am a wicked sinner. In the name of Thy beloved Son Jesus, I humbly beg of Thee to wash my soul with His Precious Blood, so that my sins may be entirely forgiven.

10. May Almighty God have mercy on us, and forgive us our sins, and bring us to life everlasting. Amen.

11. May the Almighty and Merciful Lord give us pardon, absolution, and remission of all our sins. Amen.

12. Receive, O Lord, my entire liberty, my memory, my understanding and my will. Take me, and all that I have and all that I am. Thou hast given me all, but now I give all things back to Thee, that Thy holy Will may be done. Give me only Thy love and Thy grace : these are sufficient for me, with them I shall be happy, and shall have no more to ask. Amen.

13. May the most just, the most high and the most holy Will of God be done in all things. May it be adored, praised and glorified by all creatures, now and for ever. Amen.

14. Dearest Jesus, teach us to be generous, teach us to serve Thee as Thou deservest, to give and not to count the cost, to fight and not to heed the wounds, to toil and not to seek for rest, to labour and not to ask for any reward, save knowing that we do Thy holy Will. Amen.

15. O God, we are Thy children, and we beg Thee to hear our prayers.

16. O Almighty and Everlasting God, the eternal salvation of all who believe in Thee, the helper of all who trust in Thee, and the peace and comfort of all who love Thee and serve Thee, we pray that Thou wilt heal all those who are sick, and restore them to health, if it is Thy holy Will. We pray for our family, for all our relations and friends, for all who have been good to us, for all who are in need, for all those who are in sorrow and distress, for all poor sinners, for those who are dying, and for those who have died with some sins still on their souls. Dear God, bless each one of us, and help us to live always in Thy love and friendship.

Only in God find thy quiet, my soul :

From Him cometh my hope.

Only He is my rock and my salvation;

My stronghold : I shall not be moved.

In God is my salvation and my glory :

The rock of my strength and my refuge is in God.

Trust ye in Him at all times, O people :

Pour out your hearts before Him :

God is a refuge to us.

Only in God find thy quiet, my soul :

From Him cometh my hope.

17. Visit, we beseech Thee, O Lord, this house and family, and drive far from it all snares of the enemy; let Thy holy angels dwell here, who may keep us in peace, and let Thy blessing be always upon us, through our Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.

18. O Lord Jesus Christ, Saviour of the world, save our family.

19. Mary, Mother of God, be a Mother to our family, and pray for us.

20. Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Ghost ; as it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be, world without end. Amen.

NOTES ON THE PRAYERS

1. It is usual for Catholics to begin and end all prayers with the sign of the Cross. It has been the universal Christian custom since the earliest centuries. I have not written it down here, in case you are unaccustomed to it. I have begun with the Our Father. This prayer needs no introduction to you. You know that it is the Lord’s Prayer, the one given to the Apostles by Christ when they asked Him, ‘ Lord, teach us to pray ‘. Non-Catholics add : ‘For thine is the kingdom and the power and the glory.’ These words are true, of course, but they were not said by our Lord in the Our Father. They had strayed into the text of some faulty manuscripts, which were used in their translation of the Our Father. We do not add them to the words of Christ.

2. I could not possibly leave out the Hail Mary from prayers for a Christian family. Christ’s own family would be incomplete without His Mother. The Hail Mary is the English translation of that beautiful Latin prayer, the Ave Maria, which so many composers have set to music. The first half of the Hail Mary is made of words taken directly from Scripture (the first chapter of St Luke), and so are inspired by God Himself. They were said by the angel Gabriel and by St Elizabeth, our Blessed Lady’s cousin. The second half of the prayer is a sort of commentary on these words, first given official introduction by the Church about four centuries ago. In it we ask the Mother of God, in her holiness, to pray for us and help us, now at this moment, and at the hour of our death, which is the one which will decide our eternal happiness or our eternal misery.

3. The Glory be to the Father is obviously in praise of God, the Blessed Trinity.

4. The ‘I believe’ is called the Apostles’ Creed because it comes to us from Apostolic times. You are quite familiar with it. It contains the fundamental truths of the Faith. All Christians are familiar with it. There is discussion, in some circles, as to what exactly it means, because one cannot be absolutely sure of the meaning of a written word. It cannot stand up and explain itself. But that is what the Church is for-to teach us, as Christ said. When in doubt, ask the teaching Church, and listen to what she says, because she speaks with the voice of Christ : ‘He who heareth you, heareth Me ‘.

5. ‘There remain Faith, Hope and Charity, these three ‘, says St Paul. They are the three great virtues which link us with God. That is why we often make acts of Faith, Hope and Charity. These three prayers are those learned by all our school-children.

We believe in all that God teaches us, because He would not deceive us, and He cannot be making a mistake. We accept with our mind and intellect everything He says as true, on His authority alone, and for no other reason. We accept Christianity as being absolutely true, so that we should lay down our lives rather than cease to believe in, or even doubt, anything which the Church teaches us. That is Faith-a willing acceptance of the truth which comes from God. Unless we were absolutely certain, by Faith, of the truths taught by the Church, we should be fools to practise such a difficult religion.

6. Hope is another virtue. We believe that God is offering us heaven and the means to get there,’ and that He is Good, Merciful and All-powerful. Because we accept this as the truth, by Faith, we go on to trust in Him, or to hope in Him. We are ready to do our part by living a good life, because we have such a firm hope and confidence in Him that He will do as He has promised, and bring us to the glory of heaven, by giving us His grace and help in this life.

7. This is the Act of Charity, or Love. ‘The greatest of these is Charity.’ The important thing about it is to love God (Christ Himself tells us this), and the second great commandment of Christianity is dependent on it-to love our neighbour. We must love our neighbour ‘for Thy sake,’ for the love of God, and for no other reason. If we love God perfectly, then we shall love our neighbour perfectly, and help him in every way. There can be no true love of man without the love of God. We may ‘do good’ to our neighbour, without loving God, but we cannot love him in the true Christian sense of the word, which means that we see Jesus Christ in him, and try to treat him as we should treat Christ Himself.

All these Acts of Faith, Hope and Charity were written by St Leonard of Port Maurice.

8, 9, 10. Need no explanation.

11. ‘Absolution’ means being absolved or loosed from the chains and captivity of sin. ‘Remission’ is forgiveness.

12. The grace which we ask from God is the essence of the Christian life. Grace is that gift of God which pours into our soul the new life which Christ came to bring. Grace is a sharing in the life of God, as much as we are capable of it. St Peter says that we are made ‘participators in the Divine Nature ‘. By grace our soul is elevated, illuminated and transformed, so that we become children of God, children of Light. If we die in the state of grace, we shall be eternally happy. Grace, given to us by Baptism and the other sacraments, helps us to live like Christ, and to triumph over our many sins and weaknesses. Only sin can deprive us of grace. It is our greatest ambition to live always in a state of grace, as children of God, in His love and friendship. Christ died to win grace for us, and all grace comes through His Life and Passion and Death, through the medium of prayer and the sacraments. We pray that we may always remain in the state of grace. If we lose grace by sin, we pray that our souls may be brought to life again through the merits of Christ’s Precious Blood.

13. This prayer, and the ones before and after it, were all written by St Ignatius of Loyola. They are concerned with the words of Christ, ‘ Thy Will be done on earth, as it is in heaven. Father, not My Will, but Thy Will be done.’

14. This asks for the true spirit of Christianity-the spirit of self-sacrifice, the desire to live our whole life for the honour and glory of God. ‘All things whatsoever you do, in word or in work, do them all in the name of Jesus Christ,’ says the Apostle. A Christian should not be content to plod along in the negative way of the Ten Commandments alone, because the New Law of Christ is a law of love, which urges us not merely to avoid what is forbidden but to make positive efforts to offer ourselves to God with a real and burning affection. The Charity of Christ, the love of Christ for us, impels us to spend ourselves tirelessly in His service, and to return love for love.

15. We pray for all our many needs.

16. This is an extract from the Psalms (Psalm 66, verses 6–9). The Old Testament is equally as precious to us as the New, because it is equally the word of God. The Psalms have always been dear to Christians, because they offer every sentiment of the human heart to the loving gaze of God our Father.

17. Angels are frequently mentioned in the Holy Scriptures, as the messengers of God, and the guides and guardians of His people.

18, 19, 20. Need no comment.

All these prayers may be said by the family together, with appropriate pauses, or they may be said by the head of the family, with the rest making the responses.

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Famous Shrines of Our Lady 1

ROME: OUR LADY OF THE WAYSIDE

MONSIGNOR J. T. MCMAHON, M.A., PH.D

INDEX

Mary is the gateway to Heaven: there is no other entrance. The saints took Mary as their Mother, but each saint developed devotion to her in an individual and personal way. Devotion to Our Lady of the Wayside today is due to St. Ignatius Loyola. When St. Ignatius first came to Rome, in 1523, he saw the picture of Our Lady of the Wayside and there and then began his lifelong devotion to Our Lady under this title. He loved it intensely; in fact his destiny, and that of the Society of Jesus which he founded, seemed in some mysterious way to be connected with the picture. Fourteen years later, when with his companions he again returned to Rome, the saint led his followers beneath the picture he so loved, and before it the foundation members of the Society of Jesus prayed to Our Lady of the Wayside, seeking her aid, counsel, and consolation.

During many years after his ordination St. Ignatius celebrated his daily Mass at the altar of the picture he loved so well. On the completion of the first home of his newly-founded Order in Rome, such was the affection the saint bore this picture, that he resolved, if possible, to secure this picture for his church. He who cared so little for the things of earth had to do violence to himself to go and beg for this valuable picture. The picture was housed in a parochial church, which looked upon Our Lady of the Wayside as its most valued possession. The boldness of the request aroused the indignation of the parish priest, who refused to part with an object so venerated by his people. However, the wish of St. Ignatius seemed to have won the approval of Heaven, for suddenly and quite unexpectedly the parish priest, Don Pietro Codacio, changed his mind and consented to give the picture to the newly-formed Society, and not only the picture, but with it the Church in which it hung. Furthermore, he offered himself as a candidate to the newly-founded Order of St. Ignatius, was received into the Society, becoming the first Italian on its rolls. In recognition of his generous gift to the Society he was given the title “Founder” by St. Ignatius.

THE FIRST JESUIT CHURCH IN ROME

The sanction and consent of Pope Paul III was obtained, also the approval of the Astalli family, who had built the church, and the Jesuits had their first public church in Rome—the sanctuary of the Madonna della Strada. Since then a tender devotion to the Madonna della Strada has been cherished by the members of the Society of Jesus. In the beginning of the Society, St. Francis Xavier prayed daily before this shrine, also Peter Faber, the first companions of St. Ignatius. At a later time came Fathers and Brothers to consecrate themselves at the feet of their beloved Queen, who had inspired them to join, the blessed Company of her Divine Son.

The promotion of devotion to Our Lady under the title of Madonna della Strada became a labour of untiring love amongst the first Fathers of the Society of Jesus. Her sanctuary became one of the most popular in Rome. So numerous were the people coming to her shrine, that soon the church notwithstanding many additions, was too small. The erection of a new church was necessary, but St. Ignatius in his prudence considered the Society too poor and .that the time had not yet come to face such a financial burden.

THE CHURCH OF THE GESU

Cardinal Alexander Farnese was to be the builder of this longed-for church, for through his aid, the Gesu was built on the site of the old church. It began in 1568, took eight years to build, and then Our Lady of the Wayside was enthroned. Today in the beautiful side-chapel of the left transept hangs the picture of the Madonna della Strada. In this chapel the

Month of May devotion was begun by Father Muzzarelli, and since then it has spread throughout the Catholic world. In this chapel also the congregation of the “Bona Mors” had its cradle.

THE LOVED SHRINE

The chapel of the Madonna of the Wayside is closely connected with the first Jesuits. Before it prayed Stanislaus, Aloysius, and Berchmans-those chosen souls who from the sinlessness and devotion of their young lives were destined to become the models of youth through ages yet unborn. At the feet of Our Lady of the Wayside Jesuit missionaries knelt in farewell prayer before they went forth along the distant and difficult way of bringing the glad tidings of the Gospel to the ends of the earth.

The Gesu was resplendent with lights, with a shaft beaming on the silver statue of St. Ignatius, who seems about to walk upwards out of his shrine towards Heaven. I knelt at the altar of Our Lady of the Wayside, and there surrounded by the scenes of her life in glorious frescoes, I asked many things for my friends and parishioners. I went across to the world centre of the Sacred Heart Messenger and its Apostleship of Prayer to kneel among a small group who keep vigil all day at the shrine. My favourite Jesuit saint, Francis Xavier, beckoned me for a long, farewell chat.

ST. IGNATIUS’ ROOM

Next door is one of the Jesuit Scholasticates in Rome, and a young man took me through the corridor with its wonderful frescoes of the life of St. Ignatius. Then up a few steps and he opened the actual door that led to the saint’s room, the room in which he died. There were the cupboards he used and the simple furniture of sheer utility. The atmosphere of absolute retirement from the things of the world still pervades that little room. One sensed the drastic selfdiscipline of this man of iron will. The ceiling and panelling, blackened with the years, still roofs this cradle of the Jesuit Order. A window to the left is venerated, for from there the saint looked up to the starry heavens and made his meditations. But modern buildings now cut off the view of the skies. In a glass case is a model, made accurately of the saint from his dead body. He is small, thin, with large deep brown eyes, a sallow skin, a little black goatee, small hands, and big boots. On his feast day they open the glass doors and vest him in a rich chasuble, making him live again among them. The bed of St. Francis Borgia lines the wall. The robes of a Jesuit Cardinal, together with the belt of wire rings which he wore for penance are other indications of the Ignatian rule of self-discipline. The death-masks of several Jesuit saints were in the little chapel to preach to their brethren that life is short and that eternity alone is worth living for. What a helpful place to pray is this room sanctified by St. Ignatius, hallowed by so many relics of his spiritual sons, and now the home of the Real Presence! No wonder every Jesuit hopes that one day he will have the good fortune of kneeling in that holy room from which such a stream of spirituality has flowed throughout the years. I asked the saintly Founder to bless the apostolate of Youth which his sons were engaged upon in Australia, and to shield their past pupils from the disease of materialism.

LAY-BROTHERS AT PRAYER

As I prayed the lay-brothers came for their evening prayer. Old men stooped with years of work, middle-aged brothers, and young men learning from these old warriors that work is their price to pay for the glories that surround them in that little chapel.

On another day I visited the Curia which directs the Jesuit Order scattered throughout the world. The ProcuratorGeneral was gracious in his welcome. The chapel was so inviting, so perfect, so devotional that it was hard to leave. There the members of the Jesuit headquarters seek guidance, inspiration, and light to direct, as an army headquarters does, its sons on the front line of the conquest of men for Christ.

ST. IGNATIUS’ LOVE OF MARY

Devotion to Our Lady of the Wayside inspired the missionary spirit and saintly life of St. Ignatius Loyola, the Father of the Society of Jesus. Like all the founders of religious orders, he was remarkable for devotion to our Blessed Mother. In those weary hours when Ignatius the soldier lay a wounded prisoner, the thoughts of God were inseparably entwined with the thoughts of God’s own tender Mother. It was before Our Lady’s shrine at Montserrat, in the first fervour of his conversion, when renouncing earthly warfare for the chivalry of the Cross, that he unbuckled his sword, and, placing it on her altar, vowed eternal fealty to Mary and to her Divine Son. It was on the Feast of her Assumption, before her image in the Church of Montmartre, Paris, surrounded by his companions, that Ignatius made his first religious vows. And it was, once again, kneeling before her altar in the Basilica of St. Paul Outside the Walls that his last solemn vows were pronounced. The image of Our Blessed Lady Ignatius ever bore upon his heart, and he died with his eyes lovingly fixed upon it.

During all the years Ignatius spent in Rome, his favourite shrine was the Madonna della Strada and in her power and intercession he developed an implicit trust.

Let St. Ignatius, the soldier saint, active, ardent, indefatigable, always meditating enterprises, battles, and campaigns to spread the greater glory of God, lead us to the Madonna of the Wayside and share with us his love of Our Lady of that title. We shall get the feel of this historical picture through this man of discipline, this soldier ever on the march, this man who could steel himself to send St. Francis Xavier away from his side, even though he loved his companionship and needed his help. The soldier saint had emptied himself of self and to his spiritual sons he has bequeathed the same soldierly obedience and strict discipline.

MARY CALLS FOR ACTION

We can readily see why the picture of the Madonna della Strada captured the imagination of the soldier-saint. For many years the picture was on the walls of a house in a side street of Rome, exposed to weather and open to the jibes of the soured passer-by. It was a constant challenge to all who saw it. Its message was spoken in the open market-place. Those who saw it on their way could invite the Madonna to accompany them. Its shrine was no cloistered shelter, but right on the cobbled street along which man wearily went his pilgrim’s way of life in rain and shine. Its appeal was for activity, confident in the Madonna’s power and will to help.

An appeal to the saint who wrote a prayer or fostered a devotion will help us to say the prayer better and to enter into the spirit of the devotion. St. Francis of Assisi in his heroic renunciation of his fine feathers to don the coarse garments of the peasant farmhand, shows by his life all he meant by his prayer: “My God and my all!” The life of St. Bernard is lived again in his prayer, the “Memorare.” St. Ignatius Loyola puts the soldierly call to action in every line of his prayer of selfoffering: “Accept, O Lord, my total liberty. Accept my memory, my intellect, and my will.” The “Anima Christi” is full of the eager aspirations of the soldier saint. This prayer leaves nothing out.

HISTORICAL AIDS TO PRAYER

Similarly, historical associations help us to say a prayer better and to enter into the spirit of a devotion more intimately. The “Salve Regina” has meant much more to me since I learned that the crews of Columbus’s ships sang the “Salve Regina” when nothing but sea rewarded them for their perilous journey. And then, one evening, they saw land ahead and a light moving, the first thing seen on the American continent by European eyes. “And after this our exile, show unto us”- as sung with grateful hearts by the sailors of Columbus-sends its echoes charged with a new hope across the seas of time. Uncertain and anxious, Ignatius the soldier walked the streets of Rome, worrying out what he should and could do with his life and with his companions. In those moods, the lot of every pilgrim, and’ of every active soldier, he went daily to the picture of the Madonna della Strada to point out the way for him.

THE ANCIENT PICTURE

The picture of Our Lady of the Wayside, believed to be the work of an unknown artist in the fifth century, is one of the earliest pictures remaining of the Mother of God. It was a fresco painted on the walls of a house whose foundations dated back to the days of Imperial Rome. It most likely was one of the earliest public recognitions of Mary when the Church emerged from the catacombs. It lays claim, therefore, to be one of the oldest pictures of the Blessed Mother in existence. It is a link between the Church of the Catacombs and that of the Basilicas. For centuries the picture looked down upon one of the streets of Rome and the wayfarers venerated this little wayside shrine. The artist paints Our Lady with the Holy Child. in her arms. The Child is carrying a closed book in His left hand and raises His right hand in blessing.

The extraordinary reverence in which the picture was held in Rome inspired a member of the noble family of Astalli to build a church in its honour in the twelfth century. Hither a portion of the wall on which the picture was painted was transferred, and the church itself became known as that of Our Lady of the Wayside, “Madonna della Strada.” This church was one of the first into which St. Ignatius Loyola entered when he arrived in Rome. From that day, until his death, the saint loved to pray before this venerated image of the Mother of God, and frequently said his daily Mass on the altar of Our Lady of the Wayside.

A MUCH LOVED ROMAN SHRINE

His love of the picture and his desire to possess it for his infant Society urged him to boldly ask for it. I have already told you how that request was answered in an extraordinary way, so that his Society became the owners, not only of the picture, but of the church, also.

The devotion of the Roman people to their Madonna della Strada increased and the church became too small to accommodate them. Once again Our Lady of the Wayside showed her gratitude for the love and respect of St. Ignatius and his sons, by inspiring Cardinal Alexander Farnese to build the long-wished-for church of the Gesu on the site of the older shrine. From that year, 1568, to this, shrines of Our Lady of the Wayside have been multiplied throughout the world, and in each of them she has been generous with her favours.

In the Jesuit church of St. Mary’s, North Sydney, there is a beautiful shrine of Our Lady of the Wayside. In the dim light from the stained glass windows of this Australian shrine the picture of Our Lady of the Wayside is of unforgettable beauty.

THE PICTURE CROWNED

The picture of Our Lady of the Wayside was one of the first to be crowned by the Pope, in recognition of the great things done through her intercession. Towards the end of the eighteenth century the shrine was rifled of its treasures by the sacrilegious robbers then in possession of Rome. But Mary’s loving children soon repaired these ravages, and on the third centenary of its removal from St. Mary’s to the new church of the Gesu it was again solemnly crowned in the name of the Holy Father by Cardinal Howard. During the epidemic of cholera in 1837 Pope Gregory XVI, accompanied by the Roman Curia, went in solemn procession to the shrine to implore Our Lady’s protection against the pestilence, the Pope afterwards celebrating Mass in the Gesu. When the epidemic ceased, the Roman Senate presented the Jesuits with a golden chalice in gratitude for their zeal and charity in ministering to those stricken with the disease. At the same time some of the noblest families in Rome made an offering of six magnificent bronze candlesticks to the altar of St. Ignatius.

DEVOTION TO OUR LADY OF THE WAYSIDE

St. Ignatius, the soldier-saint, is eager to be on the march-he is a man of action and wants to get going. Daily he kneels before the picture, seeking his marching orders. Let us often invite St. Ignatius to kneel with us before the picture of the Madonna della Strada and keep her image before us along the wayside of life’s journey. The guide book the Divine Child holds in His hand is closed. We may not read it, but “He knoweth my way.” (Job xxiii, 10.) Only step by step will He disclose it to us, for He would have us walk by faith and not by sight. The Child gives His blessing to the travellers who walk in faith.

WALK BY FAITH NOT BY SIGHT

There were many difficulties on the way of the soldier-saint. There will be many for us. But Our Lady of the Wayside never leaves her travellers unprotected: “I will show thee the path of wisdom: I will lead thee by the paths of equity.”

For those who pass eagerly and joyfully along life’s way, caring nothing for the difficulties, “the path of the Just goeth forward as a shining light.” It is lit up by the presence of the Child and His Mother, and “will increase even unto perfect day,” when we shall see Our Lady of the Wayside with her Child face to face, and only then will we recognize from what dangers they have shielded us. “Without the Way there is no going.” (Imitation of Christ, iii, 56.)

As long as we keep close to Mary and her Divine Child, we are on the right road and will gain the heavenly city.

THE MASS OF MADONNA DELLA STRADA

In 1890 Pope Leo XIII instituted the Feast of Our Lady of the Wayside on June 2, with a special Mass and Office granted to the Society of Jesus. Since then the feast day has been changed to May 24. In Australia and New Zealand the feast is celebrated on October 16 to avoid clashing with the Feast of Our Lady Help of Christians, the Patroness of Australia and New Zealand.

THE INTROIT

In me is all the grace of the way and the truth. In me is all the hope of life and of virtue. Blessed are they that are unspotted in the way, and walk in the law of the Lord. (Eccl., 24.)

THE COLLECT

O Lord, Jesus Christ, Who art the Way, the Truth, and the Life, through the intercession of the Blessed Virgin Mary, Thy Mother, mercifully grant that, running in the way of Thy commandments, we may in the end attain to life everlasting.

THE EPISTLE

I will show thee the way of wisdom. I will lead thee by the paths of equity: which, when thou shalt have entered, thy steps shall not be straightened, and when thou runnest thou shalt not meet a stumbling block. Take fast hold of instruction; let her not go; keep her, for she is thy life. Be not delighted in the paths of the wicked, nor let the way of evil men please thee. Flee from it: pass not by it; turn aside and leave it. But the path of the just goeth forward as a shining light and will increase even unto perfect day. (Prov. 4.)

THE GRADUAL

Come over to me all ye that desire me, and ye shall be fulfilled with my generations. For my spirit is sweet above honey, and my inheritance above honeycomb. Alleluia. (Eccl., 24.) Blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb. Alleluia. (Luke, I.)

THE SECRET

Do Thou, O Lord, mercifully regard this offering, and by the intercession of the Blessed Virgin Mary, grant that sinners may come back from their evil way, and the just be confirmed in Thy way and Thy truth, through the same Christ Our Lord. Amen.

THE COMMUNION

God hath girded me with strength, and set my way immaculate. (Ps. 17.)

THE POST COMMUNION

Grant, we beseech Thee, Almighty and Merciful God, that we, refreshed by these Thy gifts, may by the intercession of the Blessed Virgin Mary, walk in the path of justice, and so happily attain to the glory of heaven, through Christ Our Lord. Amen.

RULES FOR TRAVELLERS ON THE WAY

There are so many difficulties on the way, so many enticing by-ways, and so many temptations to laze and loiter on the way that we must have constant recourse to Our Lady of the Way. She will hear and heed us provided we are wise travellers and obey the rules of going her way. The passport to travel in Mary’s company is a cross. Without this no traveller can be accepted for the journey. “Whosoever doth not carry his cross and come after Me cannot be My disciple.” (St. Luke xiv, 27.)

Very little luggage is allowed “for we brought nothing into this world, and certainly we can carry nothing out.” (I Tim. vi, 7.) The traveller is advised to lay aside “every weight”-anything that could hinder him and prevent him from running on the way. (Heb. xii, 1.) Children are especially welcome, for “of such is the Kingdom of Heaven,” and “unless you become as little children you shall not enter.” “Whosoever is a little one, let him come to me.” (Prov. ix, 4.)

Four directions of Our Lady of the Wayside must be followed, or she cannot accompany us on our way.

1. Obedience-”Whatsoever He shall say to you, do ye.” (Words of Our Lady at Cana.)

2. Fidelity and Constancy-”Go not aside, neither to the right hand nor to the left. Thy ears shall hear the words of one admonishing thee behind thy back. This is the way; walk ye in it.” (Isaias xxx, 21.)

3. Copy the Model-”Looking on Jesus, Who endured the Cross.” (Heb. xii, 2.)

4. Devotion to Our Lady-”Come over to me all ye that desire me.” (Gradual.)

And the final resolution which each traveller must make, and strive to keep. “In the streets and the broadways I will seek Him Whom my soul loveth.” (Cant. iii, 2. )

NOVENA TO OUR LADY OF THE WAYSIDE

Say the official prayer of the Church, the Collect of the Mass of Our Lady of the Way, celebrated on May 24 by the Society of Jesus throughout the world, and on October 16 in Australia and New Zealand to avoid clashing with the Feast of Our Lady Help of Christians. “O Lord, Jesus Christ, Thou Who art the Way, the Truth, and the Life; grant graciously that by the intercession of Blessed Mary, Thy Virgin Mother, we, running in the way of Thy commandments, may attain to life-everlasting, Who livest and reignest, one God, world without end. Amen.”

God hath girded me with strength and set my way immaculate.

Our Lady of the Wayside, pray for us and guide us.

Then add three times-Pater, Ave, and Gloria, in Mary’s honour.

THE ROSARY OF THE SEVEN JOURNEYS OF OUR LADY

The Rosary consists of seven septets, or groups of seven, each one Our Father, seven Hail Marys and one Glory be to the Father, finishing with Hail, Holy Queen, etc.

The Gospels tell us particularly of the seven journeys of Our Lady. When we set out on any journey, then, however short, even to our daily work, let us accompany Our Lady, reciting one or more decades of her journeys, saluting her on the wayside. She is the Patroness of Travellers; many churches are dedicated to Our Lady of the Highway.

The First Journey of Our Lady was the VISITATION. “Mary, rising up in those days, went into the hill country with haste into a city of Juda and she entered into the house of Zachary and saluted Elizabeth . . . and Mary remained with Elizabeth about three months and returned to her own home.” Great was Our Lady’s exultant holy joy as she went swiftly, as on wings of gladness, through the high, lonely hill country. Tradition says that so beautiful was Our Lady in her youth and graceful modesty that the villagers could not be satisfied with seeing her and St. Joseph passing, but ran on and climbed the hills that they may see her again and watch her out of sight. The angels had special care of her in the high and craggy mountain ways.

It was a long journey-about eighty miles each way. It occupied the greater part of a week. The humble Virgin was accompanied on this errand of charity by her spouse, St. Joseph, whose duty finished at the door of Zachary. He went, away, returning again to take the Holy Virgin back to her own house, after she had heard Zachary blessing God in that great canticle .of the Benedictus, the . special prayer of travellers, to “direct our feet in the way of peace.”

The Second Journey of Our Lady was the NATIVITY: And Joseph went up from Galilee out of the City of Nazareth into Judea, to the City of David which is called Bethlehem, to be enrolled with Mary his espoused wife who was with child, “and she brought forth her first born son . . . and laid Him in a manger because there was no room for them in the inn.”

Another long journey, actually the same distance as the first, but Our Lady did not complain, notwithstanding the state she was in. She cheerfully obeyed the laws of the land which ordained that a census be taken; she saw therein the most Holy Will of God. The hardships and annoyances of such a journey were patiently borne by Our Lady and St. Joseph. Even when refused accommodation they did not complain, but in the greatest humility and in the most holy poverty retired to a stable where the Saviour of the world was born.

The Third Journey of Our Lady is the PRESENTATION IN THE TEMPLE. After the, days of her Purification, according to the law of Moses, were accomplished, they carried Him to Jerusalem to present Him to the Lord. And when His parents brought in the Child Jesus to do for Him according to the custom of the law, Simeon took him into his arms and blessed God and sang the hymn “Nunc Dimittis.” Our Lady brought with her on this journey the offering of the poor which was two turtle doves or two young pigeons.

The Fourth Journey of Our Lady is the FLIGHT INTO EGYPT. Joseph arose and took the Child and His mother by night and retired into Egypt. They remained there until the death of Herod. Again he arose and took the Child and His mother and came into the land of Israel, retiring into the quarters of Galilee, and coming he dwelt in a city called Nazareth.

This was indeed a long journey for Our Lady, upwards of three hundred miles and mostly through desert country. There is a beautiful story relating to this journey. In the south of Palestine when Our Lady was looking for water in that wilderness, a young robber led them to an oasis. He was afterwards the good thief on the cross. At Matarich near Shepherd’s Hotel outside Cairo, is a well which is pointed out as the scene of the abode of the Holy Family during the sojourn in Egypt.

The Fifth Journey of Our Lady is the FINDING IN THE TEMPLE. When the Child Jesus was twelve years old, His parents going up into Jerusalem according to the custom of the feast and having fulfilled the days when they returned, the Child Jesus remained in Jerusalem, and His parents knew it not, and thinking that He was in the company, they came a day’s journey . . . and not finding Him they returned to Jerusalem seeking Him, and after three days they found Him in the Temple and He went down with them and came to Nazareth and was subject to them and His Mother kept all these words in her heart.

This was an anxious journey for Our Lady. The women travelled in one group, the men in another; the Boy Jesus at that age, twelve years, could be with either group and so occurred the mystery of His disappearance. But Mary was entirely submissive to the Holy Will of God.

The Sixth Journey of Our Lady is the MARRIAGE FEAST OF CANA. There was a marriage in Cana of Galilee and the Mother of Jesus was there, and Jesus also was invited and His disciples to the marriage. The wine having failed they appealed to Our Lady. She besought her Divine Son to work a miracle before His time, and she told the waiters: “Whatsoever He shall say to you do ye.” He changed the water into wine at His Mother’s request; this beginning of miracles did Jesus in Cana of Galilee. Always keep the company of Our Lady in your social activities.

The Seventh Journey of Our Lady is to CALVARY. Having followed her Divine Son in His Passion, there stood by the Cross of Jesus, His Mother. When Jesus had seen His Mother and the disciple standing whom He loved, He saith to His Mother, “Woman, behold thy son.” And after that He saith to the disciple, “Behold thy Mother” and from that hour the disciple took her to his own.

This last journey of Our Lady is the climax in the sacrifice of her Divine Son which she had already made at the Incarnation.

So you finish with the “Hail, Holy Queen” in which you ask Our Lady to be with you in every journey through life, and after your exile in this world to give you Jesus her Divine Son forever.

OUTDOOR SHRINES TO OUR LADY

In Hilaire Belloc’s book, The Path to Rome, which describes the author’s walk from Toul, in France, to Rome, in fulfilment of a vow to Our Lady, is given a description of the wayside shrines which he saw on his journey, indicative of the Catholicity of the countries through which he walked. In France, Switzerland, Austria, and Italy, peasants, as they travel the roads, pause at the shrines to salute the crucifix and pray to Our Lady. In Australia, whose first name was “Australia del Espiritu Santo” (Land of the Holy Spirit) there is an inherited shyness, an English characteristic, about any parade of one’s faith or piety. The open simplicity and complete lack of self-consciousness of a French or Italian peasant praying aloud, and addressing the Madonna in the intimate words of a friendly conversation, is a form of childishness to the English race, something that just is not done. Australia is slowly breaking with that tradition and more pageantry, processions, and colourful ceremonial is growing in our midst. But we have not built many wayside shrines yet. We are afraid of ridicule, or that the shrines may be decorated with empty beer bottles by some midnight party. There is that danger, but that is easily remedied. The flow of migrants from Europe will, in time, leaven the public expression of our faith, and in due course wayside shrines will appear in our bushland.

HER IMAGE ON OUR CARS

In the meantime we may honour Our Lady of the Wayside by fixing her image on our motor cars and bikes, so that she may accompany us on our way. Let us follow the example of the Apostles by asking Our Lady’s blessing before we go out on any errand or journey. Mary always gives more than we ask and this is therefore a practice of great graces.

To remind ourselves that Australia is under the patronage of Our Lady, we should carry with us always the Rosary beads, and, as we travel through our bushland glory and scenic beauty, we should caress her beads and whisper a decade of the Rosary in her honour.

CARRY HER ROSARY BEADS

Driving a car, bus or truck we can have the little one-decade Rosary beads on a finger and say the beads as we drive. The Rosary beads and the practice of passing them through our fingers at odd moments of the day, will call Our Lady of the Wayside to our side as a travelling companion. That practice will make both the Australian city and countryside her wayside shrine. When we go hiking through the bushland in groups or alone, let us quietly make the whole bushland Mary’s shrine through reciting her Rosary.

St. Ignatius Loyola asks for a culture of the imagination to get the most profit from his spiritual exercises. He calls for action as a soldier should. He won extraordinary power over men through his creative imagination. His leadership attracted outstanding men such as St. Francis Borgia, who saw in his way of acting the master of the spiritual life. Let St. Ignatius be our guide as we pray to our Lady of the Wayside to be our companion on the road of life, to enliven our faith, to inspire our hope, and to kindle our love.

PRAYER ANAL PENANCE

On earth, as in heaven, Our Lady still stays close to her devoted client, St. Ignatius. His mortal remains rest and are venerated in a chapel next to the chapel of Madonna della Strada. Even in death the saintly son has not left his Mother’s side, that Blessed Mother-Our Lady of the Wayside-who so wonderfully led him along the road that ends in heaven.

Our Lady of the Wayside will do the same for us. She is constant. She does not change. Prayer and penance pleased her in the sixteenth century. At Fatima, in the twentieth century, her expressed desire was still the same-Prayer and Penance. We have only to ask her, and to slip our hand confidingly into hers. Love and sacrifice bind us to her ever more closely.

Earthly mothers, anxious that their little ones should not stray, place gentle reins around their shoulders, so that they may walk the more safely. Our Lady of the Wayside, tenderest of mothers, attaches us to her by the sweet bonds of Prayer and Penance. She will walk beside us on our way constantly obtaining graces for us from her Divine Son, so that we may at last be with them both in heaven.

Let us then say to Our Lady of the Way:

Mother, Mother, I am coming home, Home to Jesus and to thee;

But my country’s hills are far away, And its lights 1 cannot see.

Mother, hearken as I pray,

Meet me, on my homeward way; Meet me, O Mother mine, today, Meet me, dear Lady of the way. Often-times my skies are clouded, I can see no sun nor star.

And the road is rough and narrow, And the end seems very far.

Lest perchance my feet should stray, Meet me, Mother on my way.

Meet me, O Mother mine, today, Meet me, dear Lady of the way. 1 must cross the burning desert, 1 shall thirst, O Mother mine; Fill thy vessel at the fountain Of thy Son’s Sweet Heart Divine; Lest 1 faint upon the way,

Tender Mother, stoop, 1 pray: Give my soul to drink today.

Do not wait until tomorrow,

For I need thee here and now; Wait not till I come to meet thee- Rather, Mother, meet me thou. Oh! in all 1 do or say,

Come and meet me on my way, Mother Mary, every day.

Nihil Obstat:

W. M. COLLINS,

Censor Dioc.

Imprimatur:

@ D. MANNIX,

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis. 14th September, 1953.

Dear Lady of the wayside

Let thy lights be always gleaming, As through all the darksome ages For the pilgrim they have glowed,

Till they lead us o’er the desert

To the haven of our dreaming,

To thy home, O Mother Mary!

At the ending of the road.

-Brian O’Higgins.

********

Famous Shrines of Our Lady 2

LOURDES: “I AM THE IMMACULATE CONCEPTION”

BY MONSIGNOR JOHN T. MCMAHON, M.A., PH.D. (AUTHOR OF PRAY THE MASS.)

INDEX

MY PERSONAL PILGRIMAGE

So much has been written about Lourdes that it is superfluous to add anything except my own personal reactions. Lourdes is nobler in conception, lovelier in situation, and more spiritual in its atmosphere than I had anticipated. Our Lady has drawn from the hearts of her children the world over a stream of generosity that has built her Basilica in majestic proportions.

In 1858 this was an area for swine-herds; and now two magnificent churches stand -one atop the other-clinging to the rocky shoulders of the Pyrenees, while at the base of this foundation of rock rests the flickering grotto. The lower church is the Church of the Rosary and in front of this is Rosary Square, where the crowds assemble at night, and in the afternoons the sick and the maimed are drawn up. Two winding stairways of stone branch from Rosary Square to the entrance of the Basilica, whose spire soars over the scene. Within the Basilica are the chapels of the fifteen mysteries of the Rosary and the magnificent high altar and spacious sanctuary. From the balcony you look down on Rosary Square, and beyond to the distant Calvary group towards which the torch-light procession goes each evening, along the treeshaded boulevard. From this vantage point you see the Gave River racing by, the well laid out gardens, the shrubs, the trees, and the green, green lawns. The sun is shining and there is a mountain crispness in the air. It is a beautiful setting. The country all round is mountainous, rewarding the energetic with wonderful panoramas. A mountain mist keeps the flowers in bloom, the shrubs healthy, and the lawns evergreen. There is a peace and restfulness in this lovely spot. .

Lourdes is more spiritual in its atmosphere than I had hoped for. One hears the criticism of commercialism in its booths, but my own experience was that the booths have none of the high-powered salesmanship of the modern mart. All the goods for sale at Lourdes have the prices on them. You wander in and out of the open shops, and no one tries to sell you anything.

Prayer is in the air of this incredible place. It walks the streets of Lourdes audible and unashamed. The moment you leave your hotel room you take the beads in your hand and tell them in Mary’s honour. Whether you march in procession or pray in chorus, or better still, kneel in the after-sundown dusk at the Grotto, you feel that Mary is helping you to pray. Faith is not easy to describe. Faith does not lend itself to words-even in a shrine like Lourdes, where Faith is the prime reason for the very existence of the place and is in the air of the Pyrenees you breathe.

A Change of Heart

No one goes to Lourdes without experiencing a change of heart. That is the daily miracle of Lourdes, the unseen and unrecorded one of the deepening of the spiritual life of hundreds of thousands each year. In this machine age of scientific wonders such as television machines, disease-killing drugs, and atomic energy, many tend to doubt the unseen changes which occur within the hearts of the pilgrims. The little girls who accompanied Bernadette that first day to gather kindling wood near the grotto would not believe because they did not see. “When the others came back with their sticks, Bernadette asked them if they had seen anything. They said no. They thought it was all nonsense and said she was a silly girl and had made it up.” Abbe J. Belleney wrote about the apparitions in the simplest form, a form that Bernadette herself, who had trouble reading and writing, could have understood:

‘”Suddenly she heard a rushing sound like a great wind. She looked up at the tall rock above her, and then fell down on her knees, for there in a hole in the rock stood the most lovely lady she had ever seen. A bright light shone all round her, and she was dressed in white with a long blue sash. A rosary hung over her arm, and golden roses were at her feet.”

The beautiful lady wished that crowds would come to Lourdes, and what a wonderfuI response the people of all nations have given to that wish! Once there, she takes each one by the hand, and mother-like, leads them to the feet of her Divine Son. In short, we go to Jesus through Mary, and it is her divine mission to help us with the reassuring touch of her hand in ours. All through the days I spent at Lourdes I felt that purpose working within me. Saying my Mass at the Grotto, assisting at the blessing of the sick, marching in the torchlight processions, making the Way of the Cross, and during visits to the Blessed Sacrament I felt Mary by my side helping me to pray; and that was the experience of so many of my companions.

The Crutches of the Cured

The Grotto is constantly tugging at one’s elbow to return again and again every day you spend at Lourdes. The weatherbeaten crutches and evil trusses hang in the rain and sun over the entrance to the cave where the statue stands, where the candles burn, and the people from the ends of the earth, many on stretchers, pass. These symbols are left by the cured. They represent only a small percentage of the pilgrims, but they remain the very harbingers of hope.

It is difficult for a mechanised people to comprehend how the pitiable sick can summon up the look in their faces, the look that says: “Now, at last, I will be made whole.” Ever since February 11, 1858, when the Mother of God lifted the thin veil which hides her constant nearness to all mankind and revealed herself to Bernadette Soubirous, the poor, uneducated girl of fourteen, at the grotto of Massabieille, near the Gave River, the little carts with their burden of sick have been wheeled from the pools to the Grotto.

Beneath the rock of Massabieille the Grotto glitters in the light of its thousand candles. Beyond the iron grille is the statue of the Virgin, standing in the hollowed rock where Bernadette once saw the glowing vision of the lady in white, the Immaculate Conception. In front of the iron grille are the stretchers, and on them are laid the patient sick. From 2.30 each afternoon they come from the baths to the Grotto and back to the Rosary Square for the solemn blessing of the sick.

The Song of Bernadette

The resignation of these sufferers preaches a sermon that goes direct to one’s heart. Speak to them and learn how cheerful they are, confident that Mary will do what is best for them, remembering her words to Bernadette that she may not restore health and happiness here, but promises a big reward hereafter. That is the gift of Lourdes to the sick pilgrims. They return home happier and better, even though not necessarily cured. In their hearts is the Song of Bernadette, the song of resignation, a song that each of us must learn to sing; and the miracle that never fails at Lourdes is that all the sick who come, return to their homes singing that song.

The Prayer of Pain

The sick who come to Lourdes learn best the secrets given to Bernadette. Those secrets were demands made on her by Our Lady. From the apparitions to her death Bernadette practised those secrets, her prayer was the prayer of pain. We do not use the prayer of pain, sorrow, worry and humiliation enough. Why waste such precious pleading? In the Garden, being in agony, He prayed the longer. And His greatest prayer was made as He hung upon the Cross on Calvary.

The prayer of pain is a devotion, a spending of oneself, a giving of self, a spiritual bargaining. The smugness of just being good is broken when one sets out for a cause outside oneself. Our faith grows within the more it is shared outside. Hoard it and it decreases. A prayer of pain offered for sinners, said in reparation for sin, goes direct to the heart of Christ, Who led the way for us when He prayed from the Cross: “Father, forgive them for they know not what they do.”

The Blessing of the Sick

Earth holds no more poignant hour than the blessing of the sick every afternoon at Lourdes. The stretchers with their precious sick are wheeled away from the Grotto on to Rosary Square, where they are arranged row on row. The procession of the Blessed Sacrament leaves the Grotto. I walked beside the Bishop of Lourdes, who carried the Monstrance, for it was Rosary Sunday. We came slowly to the accompaniment of hymns and the Rosary to the Square now crowded with the cases from the hospital wards. I looked at their pale, drawn faces, and lips busy with prayers, and all of them showed a great serenity. One of the marshals came bustling up to even up the line of stretchers. Then a young French priest took his place at the microphone for the time had come for the solemn litany. The Square was filled, a sea of white faces and hatless heads reached to the River Gave. The priest began his dramatic invocations by lifting his arms and holding them out like a cross.

“Holy Virgin, heal our sick,” he cried in a voice full of emotion.

“Holy Virgin, heal our sick,” the crowd responded with a cry like the rolling of waves.

“Holy Virgin,” intoned the priest, “hear our prayers.”

The voice of the crowd thundered back in echo.

“Jesus, Master, that I may see.” “Jesus, Master, that I may speak.” “Jesus, Master, that I may hear.” “Jesus, Master, that I may walk.”

The voice of the crowd caught the dramatic quality in the priest’s ejaculations and roared them back. Here and there people held out their arms. Some of the sick half raised themselves on their stretchers. The atmosphere was tense with expectancy.

The Bishop slowly raised the Sacred Host to bless each one of the stretcher cases. I could see the eyes of the afflicted look up at the Monstrance as of old the sick looked up into His Face. What faith, what confidence, what hope shines in those pale, wan faces! A mother took her epileptic boy in her arms: his tongue was hanging out, his limbs were twitching, his expression was horrifying, but in the mother’s eyes shone a love for this deformed son of her womb, and as the tears streamed down her cheeks, her lips muttered her words that the child of her heart might be cured. She held the wriggling boy until he almost touched the Monstrance, as if mindful of that suffering woman of old who assured herself that she would be cured were she only to touch the hem of His garment. The emotion of the moment swept over the people, and tears flowed freely. I was strong and healthy that day, but the mood caught at my throat and sent a tremor along my spine. Suddenly I wanted to cry. If a strong, healthy man could be carried away, what must be the effect on sick and suffering people in all their weakness?

Jesus of Nazareth Passes By

Thus for a few hours Jesus of Nazareth passed through the lines of little carts. We all felt His presence as if a breath from heaven, intangible, powerful, irresistible swept over us. We accepted the reality of the unseen, and our hope in Him grew. As I walked beside the Bishop of Lourdes bearing Our Blessed Lord to the sick, the strength of Job’s faith was mine for those precious moments, and Job’s words: “I believe that my Redeemer liveth,” were echoing in my soul. Many priests lying in their stretchers were so overcome by His Presence by their beds of pain that they just clasped their hands, lowered their eye-lids, and let their tears speak to Him. If anywhere faith can be sublimated to vision it must happen in Rosary Square, Lourdes, during the blessing of the sick.

The atmosphere of tense expectancy owes much to the dramatic quality of the French announcers during the litany of the sick. One moment electrified me. The priest with arms uplifted, said to us:

“My brethren, let us lift our arms in prayer.”

A forest of arms was raised in the most moving expression of prayer that I have ever seen.

I thanked His Lordship for the privilege of holding the cope during those memorable hours, but I did not want to leave the sick who had done so much for me, moving me deeper than any sermon has ever done. I followed the carts to the hospital served by Sisters and voluntary workers during the summer months. On arrival an English titled lady welcomed me and conducted me through the wards. There were pitiable sights there to remind me to count my blessings, and to thank God for the gift of normal health as one of my chief blessings. But should His testing and purifying hand fall on me in sickness I shall try to recall the resignation and submission to His Holy Will so evident on the serene and happy faces of the sick at Lourdes.

The Cold Baths

From the hospital I went to the pools. I left the sunny warm air and went into the bathroom. A cold and forbidding sunken bath, leaden in colour, was full of water that did not look clean. A statue of Our Lady on a niche over the bath assured me. I stripped and stood hesitating on the wet flagstones, and stepped down into icy water. I did the three immersions with the prescribed invocations and came up the steps to where my clothes hung. Still dripping, I put on my clothes with fears of a nasty chill. For a moment my clothes felt damp and uncomfortable, but by the time I had my shoes laced I was as warm as toast. I asked the priests who were with me how they felt and it was the same with them. The very sick are lowered into the baths. Patients with all kinds of skin diseases use the same water. There is not a towel in the whole establishment, so on go your clothes over your wet body, and Our Lady suspends the usual reaction from such imprudence, for no one contracts a cold.

The Torch-Light Procession

At eight-thirty in a windless evening we assembled for the torch-light procession. The long-stemmed torches with their artistic shades are bought at the booths and, falling in, you march behind your banners. Down the wide boulevard the procession moves singing the Lourdes “Ave, Ave.” with jubilation. The saying of the Rosary comes easy, distractions are few, and devotion is welling up in the hearts of all. The procession turns at the Calvary group and returns by the other boulevard to Rosary Square. Here the Lourdes officials direct the pilgrims to figure march around the Square. On another evening I stood on the balcony outside the Basilica and viewed this magnificent spectacle. It was like a carnival parade of glow-worms with their lamps ablate, for you can only see the torches moving, the holders are hidden in the darkness. Our torchlight procession on Rosary Sunday was a special one, for when our pilgrims had all entered the Square, on went the light which picked out the lines of the Basilica, and mounted the tall, slender spire to illuminate the statue of Our Lady in a warm glow of light. Our hearts were full, and when the Creed was intoned in Latin it was indeed an act of faith, a glorious finish to an evening spent with Our Lady. Usually the torchlight procession brings the day to a finish, but not for us. We gathered in the upper Basilica at 11 P.M. for a Holy Hour, then Solemn High Mass at midnight. During the High Mass we priests who were not on ceremonies said Mass in one of the chapels of the Mysteries of the Rosary. A fussy sacristan ordered us about, and gave us a chalice with only one particle for whoever served the Mass; no one else may receive Holy Communion at the private Masses.

Praying the Mass at the Grotto

Mass at midnight is always a devotional experience. I enjoyed saying that Mass in the Chapel of the Annunciation. But the next morning when I was privileged to say Mass on the simple altar of the Grotto I was deeply impressed.

I often picture the scene at Ephesus when St. John the Evangelist, its first Bishop, said Mass in the presence of Mary. Both of them had stood beneath the Cross on Calvary, and from the Cross came the all-revealing light which showed them, what we can only see in a dim light, the merit of this wonderful gift of the Holy Mass. No Mass that has ever been said by a human priest could have been as acceptable as that offered by St. John and Our Blessed Mother at Ephesus.

The thick, votive candles spluttering in the morning breeze. the noise of dripping candle-grease, the echo of my voice coming back from the natural sounding board of the rocky cave, and the statue of Our Lady looking down from her niche, all added to the background of this wonderful experience. I felt that Our Lady was present at my Mass that morning, praying it for me, and before I began the opening psalm I invited St. John the Evangelist to help me to say it well. There were no distractions that blessed morning, and at her name I lifted my heart in exultation and gratitude as I bowed my head in reverence.

So too at the list of the Saints in the Canon I paused at the mention of St. John the Evangelist to greet him and thank him for his presence by my side at the altar. During my thanksgiving I asked Our Lady of Lourdes, as my special request, that I might become less unworthy to invite her each morning to pray the Mass with me throughout the years that remain of my priesthood. That was also the favour and blessing I asked for all my friends that morning at the Memento for the Living. With my hands joined and head bowed I recalled by name the many I wished to mention then, and for them, and for the others whose names I omitted, I prayed for a deeper love of the Holy Mass, and that Mary would accompany them to Mass, kneel beside them, and keep them busy during this most precious half-hour on earth.

At my farewell visit to the Grotto as I kissed the rock at Our Lady’s feet, and moved slowly behind the little altar, my prayer was a petition for faith, and more faith in the mystery of the Mass. Following that simple, pious custom of the peasants of Massabieille in kissing the rock hallowed by the feet of Our Lady, I asked her to grant me as a souvenir of Lourdes that I should try to recapture the intention and rekindle the zeal which I experienced in the Mass I said at her Grotto, and that she should grant a like blessing to my friends and to my parishioners.

The Way of the Cross

The layout of the Stations of the Cross at Lourdes is the work of a true artist. I think he must have begun with the 14th, and worked backwards. A mighty cleavage in the rocky, steep shoulder of the mountain which rises sheer behind the Basilica gave the artist a wonderful opportunity to create a living tableau of the laying of the Body in the Sepulchre. The life-sized figures carrying the Body of the dead Christ are just about to enter the cleft cave. Mary and John and the faithful women follow. The tomb is hewn out of the solid rock, and gives a most realistic picture of the burial.

The fourteen groups are gifts from national pilgrimages. They are life-sized bronze figures, and the artist has set them in positions that create a sense of activity.

At ten o’clock in a morning of bright sunshine we began the Way of the Cross. As our pilgrimage was so large it was decided to do the Stations in groups. A priest was assigned to each group. As one group moved off from each station another arrived. The result was to give an echo-like effect to our prayers and hymns. The prayers and the verse of the Stabat Mater which we had finished came to us like an echo as the other group took our place.

The Stations are placed on either side of the narrow, cobble-stone path which winds its way up the steep shoulders of outspurs of the Pyrenees. The sun was hot, the going uneven, and the loose stones were uncomfortable as one knelt for the prayers. The ‘Stations were tableaux vivants of the fourteen episodes on the way from Pilate’s court to the tomb. The figures are life-like and aid one’s mental picture of what happened on Good Friday. The effort of the climb and the rough going created a mood in sympathy with the Passion. The climbing and the kneeling were unpleasant that hot fore-noon, and we felt it was a penitential way for all, especially for the old.

But I must confess that my meditation brought me closer to Jesus and Mary one moonlight night when I climbed that path alone. All the street noises were hushed and nothing broke the stillness of the night except the chimes from the Basilica tower singing the Lourdes “Ave, Ave.” The higher I climbed the nearer and clearer was the “Ave,” and its message blended fruitfully with my meditations on Mary’s part in the Passion of her Divine Son. That is one reason why I must return to Lourdes. I want to walk again the Way of the Cross up the sides of a mountain, to walk alone in the silence of the night with only one voice to break into my meditations, the “Ave” of Lourdes.

Up, ever up, we slowly made our thoughtful Way of the Cross until, at the 12th Station one of the pilgrim priests celebrated Mass, and I preached on Mary’s share in that Via Dolorosa. Here are the ideas I proposed to the pilgrims brought there by the Irish Dominicans, and gathered round that altar in the glorious sunshine of an October morning.

The Mother of the Irish

We yield to no one in our love and devotion to Mary: she is, and always will be, the Mary of the Gael, the Mother of the Irish. In our ancient tongue she is linked with God in all our salutations. We say Dia is Haire Dhuit, and I have heard my grandparents always add to the invocation: “Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Ghost,” the words “and to Mary the Mother of God.” So in our history, in our tradition, and in our language, the devotion to Mary has always been the devotion of filial children to a loving Mother. So Our Lady of Lourdes must be very happy looking down upon us here this morning. Here we are children of Mary, children of the Gael, come from afar to do her honour. We have made sacrifices in coming, but we are glad to do so if it will bring us nearer to Mary.

Ephesus, the City of Mary

I want you to go back with your imagination to a scene in the city of Mary, the city of Ephesus. That is the city where the Evangelist took Mary when he went there as its first Bishop. When Our Lord looking down from the Cross, said to John: “Behold thy Mother,” the gospel tells us that John from that moment took her to his own. He brought her to Ephesus where she lived with him while he was Bishop of that See. And oh! what a scene that was each time St. John said Mass assisted by Mary, the Mother of God!

Mary Never Forgets

Mary never forgets, and in gratitude for the hospitality which she received from that city of Ephesus, she is now about to confer on that same city the signal honour of declaring to the world that she is the Mother of God, her greatest, her grandest, her unique title. The year is 431 and the Bishops of the Catholic world are assembled at Ephesus to debate whether Mary was in truth the Mother of God, and not merely the Mother of Christ made Man. The people of Ephesus are excited, and late one evening there comes from the council chamber the news, that the Bishops have decided to proclaim to the world as a dogma of our faith, that Mary is truly and really the Mother of God, So they rush from their homes, and light torches, and as the Bishops leave the council chamber they escort them to their houses, filling the streets of Ephesus with their jubilant cry of “Mary, Mother of God.” That must have been a wonderful scene, and we will recall it each time in our processions while we are here in Lourdes singing the Lourdes “Ave,” tha’ long ago at Ephesus that cry, that jubilant, grateful cry, of “Mary the Mother of God” filled that city.

Mary never forgets. She remembers all that the children of the Gael have suffered in her name and for her sake, and if we cling to the faith of our fathers today, it is because of Mary’s protection. She recalls the family Rosaries said in stealth behind closed doors during the long night of the penal days when the priest was hunted and the Mass was stopped, but in the fingers of old and young were Mary’s beads recalling to them that Mary was still in her high heaven protecting the children that she loved.

Our Inheritance from St. Patrick

Now come with me to another scene. This time it is in Rome. It is the same year 43I. and a young bishop kneels at the feet of the Pope, Pope Celestine, to receive from the Pope his commission to bring the good tidings of the Gospel to a pagan people across the seas. And as Celestine puts his hands upon the head of the young bishop he must have spoken to him about this new dogma of the Mother of God and told him to teach that dogma to the people among whom he was to bring the good tidings of the faith.”Bring to them a love of Mary,” spoke the Pope to the young bishop, “give them a devotion to Mary as the Mother of God.” How well that young bishop did that you can answer for yourselves by looking in upon yourselves while here in Lourdes and realise the feeling of being close to Mary in this holy spot.

That young bishop was our own St. Patrick, and if we, children of the Gael, are devoted to Mary, it is our inheritance from his teachings to our forefathers many centuries ago. There is no sacrifice great enough, or big enough, that we children of Mary are not prepared and willing to make for her sake, and for her honour, and so we have come to this holy place of Lourdes, and we are going to make a greater sacrifice still for we are going to cross three countries until at last we arrive at Fatima again to do her honour.

The Sorrows of Thy Mother

We have made the Way of the Cross and let us always remember that admonition: “Forget not the sorrows of thy Mother.” To go frequently to Mary in her sorrows is to draw closer and dearer to her. We have walked in meditation along the Way of the Cross in this inspiring setting, up the steep sides of the Pyrenees. The way has been steep, it has been difficult. The life-size figures of each Station have aroused us, and our imagination has painted the scene more vividly than ever before. In each of those Stations Mary has a part, but she comes vividly before us at the 4th, when she meets her Divine Son, sees the depth of His Sorrow, feels the intensity of His sufferings, and she stands there before Him helpless, unable to do a thing to alleviate that suffering. He looks at her, the only creature who has no part in His condemnation, and seeing her suffering, His own sorrows become more painful.

Mary Walks the Irish Roads

While here at the 12th Station she stands beneath the Cross, the sword of Simeon pushed in to its very hilt, the Mother of the Man of Sorrows has verily become the Woman of Dolours. And who of any race, or of any time have followed closer to Mary along the Via Dolorosa, than our Irish mothers? Mary has ever walked the Way of the Cross along the roads of Ireland. Over the cobblestones of sorrow and sadness she has trod with them who have known so much suffering, so much grief at parting, so much hunger and want, for her sake. No wonder Mary loves the Irish mother, no wonder the Irish mother loves Mary. And you, Irish mothers, who year by year, send your sons and daughters out from your homes into the foreign missions, how dear you are to her who freely and willingly gave up her own Son for the sake of others.

And now, here at the 12th Station, she stands by His Cross to see Him die. That gift of the mothers of Ireland towards the spread of our faith outside her own shores has brought the greatest blessing upon the people of Ireland. Mary accepts your sons for the priesthood and the teaching orders of brothers, and your daughters for all the religious communities of women as a precious gift to her Son; and so out from their own kith and kin they sail, but they leave behind them a fragrant memory of sacrifice made for the love of Mary.

A Gift from Irish Mothers

What a noble part those sons and daughters are playing in the vineyard of the Lord today! The missionary spirit of the Irish flourishes today as it did in the days when Irish monks took the countries of Europe in their stride. That was a golden age, it is no less golden today. The very name of Ireland overseas is linked with missionary zeal and activity. May that zeal flourish, for the extraordinary thing about the gift of faith is that the more you share it, the more you give it away, the more it grows within you. And all the sacrifices that the people of Ireland are making for the missions, and what sacrifices they are, everybody knows, not only in money, but in the gift of their sons and daughters, that is the greatest crown that Ireland can wear. Hers is a great spiritual kingdom upon which the sun never sets. You may fly across the world in a ‘plane, and every place you touch down you will find Irish priests, Irish Brothers, and Irish nuns engaged in every work for the alleviation of the suffering of man, for the care of the children, the homeless, the foundling, the orphans, the lepers, the sick, the abandoned, all for the greater glory of God and for the honour of Mary their Mother.

That is our proudest boast, and that, my dear Irish mothers, is your contribution when you give your greatest gift, greater than your money, greater than your prayers, the gift of your sons and daughters to the missions. No wonder Our Lady of Lourdes is smiling down this morning upon us, her Irish children, her Irish pilgrims, come from that land that loves her to bear that love to her here at Lourdes and later at Fatima. God bless you all !

The Welcoming Madonna

Within the Rosary Chapel there is a fresco of Our Lady on the arch over the main altar. It depicts Our Lady with arms outstretched, her blue cloak in her hands as if about to enfold each of her children in a maternal embrace, her face radiating a welcome, and her eyes tender with love. Immediately she becomes to me the Madonna of Welcome. I took many pilgrims to look up at her, and to feel the warmth of that Mother’s smile. It is a picture which I hope to carry with me down the years. If an inspired artist can arouse such warmth in a pilgrim’s heart by just looking on that creation of his, what will be the effect when we look up into that face in the hereafter, and see in it a welcome that will fill our souls wit h happiness! What a rich thought to sustain us in our striving against that strong inclination to evil which we inherited from Adam’s sin! On the last morning at Lourdes I knelt for a time looking at the Madonna of Welcome, sad at the thought of leaving Lourdes and going away from that reassuring smile. She seemed to smile more sweetly as a group of us bade her goodbye, and we felt that the Madonna of Welcome can also be a comfort, and a strength when one must go.

The Definition of the Dogma

“I am the Immaculate Conception,” Our Lady herself declared at Lourdes in 1858, just four years after the definition of the Dogma of the Immaculate Conception on December 8, 1854. The words spoken by Mary at Lourdes were strange words indeed for the peasant child, Bernadette, who could hardly have known the dogma defined four years earlier. Surely Mary must have used those words: “I am the Immaculate Conception,” in gratitude for the definition of the dogma. She might have said: “I am the Virgin Mary; I am the Queen of Heaven; I am the Mother of God”; she might have used any of the titles in the unending litany of her graces. But, if she was to express the innermost truth, her real worth before God, she could only say: “I am the Immaculate Conception; I am His ideal of created holiness; I am His perfect one; I am the sinless one.”

Let us recapture a glimpse of the scene in St. Peter’s, Rome, on Friday, December 8, 1854. The Bishops of the world were assembled to discuss the ten volumes of reports sent to Rome from all the Catholic Bishops. For four days of five hours these reports were presented for discussion, with the result that a unanimous decision approved of the dogma. A special week of prayer prepared for the great day. The relics of Rome were ex-posed for the veneration of Bishops, priests, and people. A day of strict fast was observed on the Thursday. It rained all that week in Rome, but the morning of the 8th dawned crisp and clear. The procession formed in the Sistine Chapel. Two hundred mitred prelates marched. Penitentiaries of St. Peter’s, the Swiss Guard, the noble Guard, surrounded the Pope borne on his chair of state through the cheering crowds.

Pope Pius IX Weeps

When the Pope intoned the “Gloria in Excelsis,” a ray of winter sun shot through the lofty dome of St. Peter’s to encircle his head like a halo. Everyone remarked it, for this holy man, Pius IX, had a deep personal devotion to Mary Immaculate. This was the only shaft of sunlight in a week of incessant rain.

As Pope Pius IX walked to the platform, after the Gospel was read in Latin and Greek, to perform his most solemn act, the definition and promulgation of a new dogma, the whole vast assembly arose in hushed expectancy. In charged silence the crowd listened to the fine, clear voice of the Pope reading the Bull: Ineffabilis Deus-”The Ineffable God.” The clear voice began to falter, betraying his emotion, and when he came to the words declaram us (“we now declare”) the voice was silent, and in its place came the sobbing of that grand old man, now fully conscious of the signal honour granted to him to proclaim, in the presence of the Bishops of the world, urbi et orbi (to Rome and to the world), the dogma of the Immaculate Conception of Mary. Many a tear dimmed the eyes of the assembled Bishops at the sight of that strong roan, Pius IX, moved to tears. Recovering himself, on he read, and at its finish the cannons from Fort St. Angelo boomed through St. Peter’s, and the bells of Rome began to peal. Everyone took a holiday to view the illuminated city, and next day the Bishops met the Holy Father, and from him received a gold medal commemorating the event, and a print of the Immaculate Conception. The medal was struck from gold given by the Irish miners on the Ballarat goldfields in Australia. The diocese of Perth, Western Australia, was one of the first to be dedicated to the Immaculate Conception, and its Cathedral was among the earliest to honour Our Lady under that title.

The eye-witness report of the scene in St. Peter’s on December 8, 1854, was taken from Archbishop Dixon of Armagh, who was present that day.

To the Sinless One

Like those born in the salt mines of Russia. who never see the light of day, people who live in the grimy atmosphere of sin are unable to appreciate sinlessness.

Lady Butler, better known as the painter of the “Roll-Call,” records an incident in the West of Ireland. She had been watching a poor woman driving home a small flock of sheep, and remarked how beautiful they were. And indeed, the sheep in that part recall the bright-fleeced animals of Homer. “Yes,” was the unexpected reply, “and they are without sin.”

In that age when men prayed and lived close to God, painters had a supernatural insight. The Madonnas of the Middle Ages are prayers spoken on canvas by men who believed. Twenty-five times one of them tried and tried to put on canvas his conception of the woman without stain, the Immaculate Miracle. His creation exists, the Immaculate Conception by Murillo, Seville’s boast, painted, as they vow, “with milk and roses.”

God Could Do It: He Did It

Sin is defilement, sin is hostility to God, and whatever might touch the Woman predestined to be the Mother of Godmade-Man, it could not be sin. St. Augustine says that the honour of the Lord forbade it. The Lord saved her body from the curse of Eve, why not her soul from the sin of Adam? Well had the monk of Canterbury argued a century and a half before the dogma: “God could do it: He ought to do it: He did it.”

Mary Immaculate stands alone, separated from the purest and the holiest by a privileged redemption; “preserved” from sin, and not merely cleansed from it. She is our “solitary boast,” the only merely human being who has escaped the defilement that runs in our blood. And as an invalid child in a city slum finds all the beauty of life concentrated in one pure and fragrant lily on the window sill, so in a world where the soilure of sin meets us on every side, we turn with relief to the Woman all fair who alone remains to us from our uprooted paradise.

For Mary we have no words to match her peerless glory. Only the spotless angels of God can appraise the miracle of her sinlessness-if even they.

Gratitude for Mary Immaculate

All of us, unless blinded by sin, can feel a thrill of delight in the thought of her, the Immaculate. Surely we can never thank God enough for the Immaculate Conception, for all there is in her of light and grace and glory-for all that raises our hearts and fills us with the hope of better things.

And for our youth, what confidence springs from the thought of the sinless one who is their loving Mother! The practice of invoking her each morning and night with the three Hail Marys in honour of and gratitude for the Immaculate Conception, is a sure defence against the weakness of the flesh, the corruption of the world, and the wiles of the devil. Let us priests, parents, and teachers help the child to form this practice, adding after each Hail Mary, the ejaculation: “O Mary, by thy pure and Immaculate Conception, make my body pure and my soul holy.”

“For all high thoughts thou bringst to mind,

We love thee; love thee better yet

For all that taint on human kind

Thy brightness helps us to forget.”

Nihil Obstat:

W. M. COLLINS, D.D., PHD

Imprimatur:

@ Daniel Mannix,

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis, 11/6/53

********

Fashionable Sin

A MODERN DISCUSSION OF AN UNPOPULAR SUBJECT

BY DANIEL A. LORD, S.J

INDEX

OVER the marquee of the motion-picture theatre blazed the name of the current success, “Charming Sin.” On a daily newspaper’s delivery wagons ran a screaming notice: “The Diary of Peggy Halpin Jones, the Mistress of a Hundred Hearts, starts on Tuesday.” A sedate magazine on the news-stand listed as its leading article, “Has Biology Destroyed Our Concept of Sin?” The best-seller of the month, running furiously through edition after edition, was a morbid defence of sex-perversion. A group of businessmen about to close a big deal met the frightened “But is it quite honest?” with an affronted “What the hell has that got to do with big business?”

Constructive as our age is, magnificent as are its achievements in skyscraper, farm machinery, factory efficiency, air control, time to come will remember it as the age that tried might and main to destroy the idea of sin.

SIN A LA MODE

When a robber baron of medieval days went out, war club in hand, to wage war on the defenceless young son of his recently-dead rival, he sacked the towns, pillaged the farms, raped peasant women and strung up peasant men, and returned to his castle knowing himself to be a blackguard and a villain whose hands were red and whose soul was black with sin, and who, because he was the enemy of God and man, would eventually burn in hell for his sins.

But your modern robber baron steals and cheats on a magnificent scale, bribes judges and tricks justice in the process, is ruthless towards weak competitors, turns his inner office into a seraglio, and then hires some psychologist to tell him that he is a superman following his atavistic instincts, and a philosopher to assure him that since there is no God he may make his own commandments and conveniently break them when he chooses.

When a woman of other days betrayed her husband, she admitted herself to be an adulteress. An impure woman might shrink from the brutal names hurled at her, but she admitted their sad truth. Now, a Carl Van Vechten heroine thinks no more of a week-end of adultery than she does of a weekend of golf; and, far from betraying her husband, she is probably acting with his consent and co-operation. As for the impure woman, she is rapidly being abolished in favour of the girl who lives up to the impulses of her artistic and emotional nature.

Men have always sinned, just as men have always known the horrors of cancer and the plague. It has been left for our age to develop religions that deny both the fact of sin and the fact of cancer, and to expand philosophies which find no more harm in sinning than they do in sneezing.

SIN IN SILK

Added to this, sin has been tricked out in the silks and jewels of the musical revue (exquisite in colour and filthy in thought; lovely in line and beastly in lines) and in the scintillating cleverness of smart farce and cynical novel.

Women are paid well nowadays for betraying their purity, paid in the yard-high letters on billboards and in the rapid succession of wealthy marriages made no longer in heaven, but in Paris, Reno, and across the Mexican border. If honesty is the best policy, many a millionaire who gives sage advice, with his tongue in his cheek, to boys’ clubs has not been able to see it.

University students sit in rapt attention under professors who teach them the need of a new morality (which will begin with a repeal of the Ten Commandments), the biological necessity of what was once called sin, and the obsoleteness of Christian morals.

“PUNY MAN”

It is a little difficult, perhaps, to talk about sin to a group of neo-pagans who know almost nothing about God. If there is no God to command, there are naturally no Commandments. If there is no one to reward or punish, it is silly to talk of eternal sanctions. George Eliot, in a simpler age, felt that sin was punished right here in this life, but experience does not always keep step with the theory. Even the natural law which man finds in his heart, forbidding him to sin and commanding him to do good, is argued out of existence by our modern pagans. For, not content with denying God, they are denying the plainest facts about man himself for example, the instinct that, even in the savage, clearly recognizes some things as unmistakably wrong and forbidden.

Still, we may begin our study of modern attitudes towards sin with the sceptic who likes to meet us, as he thinks, on our own grounds. He turns against the Christian his belief in an omnipotent God. His argument is clever and specious, and runs this way:

“My friend,” he begins, “your concept of sin is—forgive me for saying it—disproved by your own beliefs. There’s your omnipotent God and here’s His tiny, puny creature, man. Why, what possible harm can so small a being as man do? God is important; man is trivial. God is great; man is insignificant. My puny actions in no way affect the course of the ages. God is utterly beyond my reach and the reach of my most terrible crimes.

“Suppose,” he argues on, “as I walk my garden paths some morning, a worm wriggles up from the damp sod and spits at me. Does it harm me? Of course not. There’s no proportion between myself and the worm. Beside me the worm is simply too insignificant for consideration.

“So, by your own concept of the greatness of God, sin becomes a trifle. It is nothing but a tiny man spitting at your great God. It is a lapdog snapping at a tolerant lion. It is a child shaking its feeble fist in the direction of a giant.”

BUT IS HE PUNY?

The argument begins and ends with the assumption that man, like the worm, is really unimportant. But is he? Let’s suppose that the man walking in his garden goes back and wrathfully grinds the obnoxious worm into the mud. That is the end of the worm. Its mangled body makes richer the loam in which the grass is rooted, but the worm’s whole existence ended under the grinding heel of the man.

Man, however, is a very different sort of being. When the heel of death grinds his body to dust, his soul goes on with the immortality that shall last as long as God is God. Nothing that is immortal can be regarded as unimportant or trivial.

More than that. When the worm spits (if worms spit) or the dog snaps, each does the thing that blind instinct forces it to do. Neither dog nor worm is master of its fate. An unpleasant hostile odour, and the dog must of necessity bark. An impulse received from outside, and the worm must without hesitation react. Man knows himself to be different, very different from that.

God gave him a power which every man recognizes as his, the power of free choice. He has liberty. He may do this or that, choose to act wisely or to play the fool, to strike his friend and kiss his enemy, to do the world signal service or to play havoc among men and women. He has a free will that makes possible the most astonishing alternative: He, in spite of his perishable body and limited brain, may stand in the presence of the Almighty Who created him and hold high debate: “Shall I serve You, God, or shall I defy You? Shall I work with You or shall I join Your enemies in relentless warfare?” And God Himself will not force him to a decision.

Far from being trivial and unimportant, man is so important that God asks him for free service and will accept no other. And in the face of God’s request man may reply: “Yes, I shall be proud to serve You; that would be an honour,” or he may lift his fist, shake it in the face of his Creator, and carry war to the very gates of heaven.

FREE SERVICE

This is not the end of his importance. When God created the earth, He turned over to man, His dearlybeloved son, a large share in its management. Man might, if he proved faithful, manage it well; he had it in his power utterly to mismanage it. By good deeds he carried on the affairs of the earth splendidly; by sin he upset the moral universe. And when sin entered in, the sin which just now was termed slight and trivial, the earth was rocked to its depths.

For men have murdered and the red of blood has written wretched chapters in human history. Men have stolen, and wars broke out, armies gathered, nations fell upon each other, cities smoked in black ruins. Men have lusted and along their paths lay broken bodies, disease-marked children, ruined homes, rotted lives.

God forced the worm and the dog to do His work blindly and like slaves. God put it in man’s power to serve and save His world or defile and spoil it. By sin man chooses to send God’s earth, as far as he possibly can, crashing to destruction. Sin is unimportant? It is the most terrible power loosed on the world.

Man is unimportant? With God’s graciously given help, man is able to scale heaven, to become the companion of angels and the brother of saints. Yet, with all this within easy reach, he is still capable of turning his back on God and happiness and running down the path of sin. With his mind infinite in its longings, limitless in its capacities, he still may choose the degrading thought, the low desire, the trifling pettiness that makes up most evil. Though he might of free choice find himself among the disciples of Christ the Saviour working for the salvation of humanity, he may deliberately league himself with evil and throw the weight of his powers against God and against mankind.

Man is unimportant? His powers and capacities are so unlimited for good or evil that they frighten the person who looks at them in the light of their consequences.

SO COMMON

The very frequency of sin, however, its commonness in the world, is used as an argument by this same group. Surely, they urge, nothing that is as recurrent as sin can be very terrible. Frequency destroys horror. Commonness makes things seem less bad. And the commonness of sin robs it of its terror.

There are some things that commonness does not affect in that way. It does not take the terror from death or cancer or leprosy. On the contrary, it makes them seem more terrible. And sin is in that same class.

Nothing, surely, is as common as death. Sixty thousand people, we are told, die each day. But the fact that 60,000 people are dying is small consolation to the young husband who stands at the death-bed of his bride. The long line marching into eternity does not reassure the criminal as the executioner lays his hands on the death switch.

When a mountain erupts and buries a city’s population under molten lava, when an ocean liner sinks with all lives lost, when a hurricane suddenly turns happy homes into grim and silent tombs, or fire sweeps through a hospital, death, just because it is frequent and common, seems far more terrible.

If one cancer is terrible, a hospital filled with cancer patients is a place of horror. One solitary leper by the roadside is an object of abhorrence; a leper colony is our earthly symbol of hell.

And so it is with sin. Sin, by the sad perversity of mankind, is frequent, repeated, almost common, but that fact makes it just the more terrible. When gangs invade a city, and murder, rape, and arson run the streets, even the careless citizen has a taste of the ugliness of sin. When vice infests certain districts, honest men shun those dark lanes because of the very commonness of sin. The slums are places of horror, not because of poverty; poverty was present in Bethlehem’s stable and was a beautiful thing. They are terrible because vice is common there, crimes are frequent, sin is unashamed.

The drunkard in the gutter, the prostitute sodden with vice, the thief stained with repeated crime speak graphically of what commonness and frequency of sin can do to a human body and soul. And if we could see the debased souls and degraded minds of secret sinners, we would find them like those of drunkard and prostitute.

To pass over lightly the horror of sin and its sad consequences simply because sin is common is like telling a sailor in a shipwreck that he need not worry because 2000 others will drown with him, or consoling a man just pronounced leprous with the fact that he will find a crowded leper colony in Molokai, or reassuring a damned soul with the thought that he will meet plenty of company in hell.

SWEET SIN

Few of these moderns, however, care to argue from the Christian viewpoint. They know they cannot do so, and maintain their position. So they deliberately fly in the face of Christian morality and set the whole moral world topsy-turvy. Sin is a joy; sin is the road to happiness; sin is a proud thing; there is no such thing as sin, for sin and virtue, vice and goodness are different words for the same experience.

Sin is joy? Keats, when he sang sweet sin, never dreamed how far that theory would be carried in our modern pagan age. He had not seen the elaborate intricacies of art and music that would encrust modern vice. He had not been permitted to sit in a modern theatre, through whose stage door passed the “most beautiful girls in the world,” and, as a cynical Broadway critic added, “the world’s filthiest stories and jokes.” In his time vice was still supposed to be in exile; it had not forsaken the hovel for the high-class hotel, the low tavern for the cabaret, the company of outcasts for the society of the fashionable.

Oscar Wilde was the man who popularized to a dying Victorian world the idea that sin was a joy. To him a thing was delightful because it was forbidden. “Think,” he once wrote, “how much pleasanter is the life of a woman; how many more things are forbidden her.” So, under his brilliant leadership, though his followers are slow to acknowledge their master, the worship of sin as the joy-giver is recommended. Sin was pleasure; sin was happiness; sin was joy. Christianity had blighted with its sense of sin the freedom and happiness of pagan lives. Christ, the pale Galilean, as Swinburne put it, had blighted the world, which grew grey with His breath.

SIN AS A CULT

So the strange pagan trick is repeated, and man’s most debasing sins are turned into objects of worship. Once more pagan lust becomes the glowing Venus; drunkenness is Bacchus crowned with vine leaves; Mercury is the god of theft and lies. Live for love; find experience where you can; worship success however gained; join the gay party, the fast life; you are young only once; purity is for prudes; only the weak are contemptible. Such are the cries echoing through the modern world and luring the youth of today as they were lured, in other pagan days, into temple groves loud with laughter and dark with sin.

We are almost fortunate that the brilliant prophet of the modern cult of sin was sad Oscar Wilde. His life speaks, more loudly than any argument, of the frightful futility of the theories he preached. Brilliant Oscar Wilde, seated among his adoring friends and arguing with startling epigram that sin is joy, that depravity and perversion are natural, that immoral black is moral white, that the happy man wears his vice like the sunflower on his coat! Sad Oscar Wilde, hounded from society for practising what he preached, and writing from prison his “De Profundis,” the tortured cry of an agonizing soul! Poor Oscar Wilde, lying on his death-bed, deserted like the Prodigal by those who had fed on his cleverness, watched by his Catholic friend, physically rotting away from the effects of “sweet sin,” clinging to his friend’s hand and begging for the favour (granted him by the merciful God he had cynically flouted) of the Catholic sacraments. Wretched Oscar Wilde, high priest and evangelist of the cult of vice, dying, not as men die, but exploding, so that even the nurses and the doctor fled the room, and every article in the sick chamber had to be committed to the flames!

Sin a joy? Stand at the death-bed of Oscar Wilde, if you are brave enough, and let him tell you, not with the glib and glittering wit of health, but with the gasping, broken truths of death.

If sin is joy, then inevitably the conclusion follows that the sinners are the joyously happy. You will search long for the happy sinner.

DEATH-BEDS

Some day someone is going to write a book called “Death Comes to Famous Sinners.” It will be, even if the author never mentions the sins, a penetrating study of sin as the road to happiness. For, after all, we know the worth of things most clearly when we see them in the low light that burns in our death chamber. Then we see them from two viewpoints, from that of the effect they have had upon the whole of our lives, and that of the effect that will follow us after we have died.

There will be some startling scenes in that book. Nero will be there, pleading with a contemptuous slave for the death thrust, not so much because he feared the living mob of outraged Romans surging up to annihilate him, but because he saw the dim, shadowy faces of Christian men smiling at him through the torturing flames, and of Christian girls rushing to the jaws of lions in preference to his perfumed gardens. The ghosts of his sins were crying out for blood.

Voltaire will find his place in the book, Voltaire gibbering pitifully and asking for the priest and the absolution of the Church which he spent his life in calling “the infamous thing.”

Elizabeth of England will be there, her soul in a red mist of Catholic blood and her treasury overflowing with confiscated Catholic wealth, as she staggers from bed, paints and dresses, and simpers in a mad effort to trick inexorable death as she had tricked her pliant courtiers.

Louis XV, after a long career of dainty vice, a life in which he had been taught sin by men bent on keeping the king of France enslaved to lust, so that they might keep France enslaved to themselves, will rise before the reader’s eyes to stagger from his bed and beg on trembling knees for the Blessed Sacrament he had not received for decades.

Madame Du Barry, screaming at the foot of the guillotine, will preach an eloquent sermon on the unhappiness to which her life of sin has brought her.

The book will find place for Cleopatra holding the welcome asp against her breast as well as for the latest Broadway butterfly found with an empty poison bottle in her lifeless hand. It will give the story of Judas, prototype of all sinners, swinging to and fro in the storm of Good Friday. And it will not omit the supposedly successful business man found dead with a smoking revolver beside him.

ONE-SIDED FOOLS

No one is fool enough to deny that sin brings with it momentary thrills, frequent financial coups, a titillation of the senses, sometimes years of comfort and luxury. By shutting one’s eyes to all save these advantages, one can find swift and temporarily enveloping joy. The drunkard, if one comes to that, gets exaltation out of his drink and fancies himself a king among men, if he cares to forget the headaches and heartaches that inevitably must follow.

The drug addict lives for a few hours in a world of astonishing delight, only to wake in a drab world of misery with the unendurable hunger of habit gnawing at his nerves. The roué finds fierce delight in his casual loves, but he is obliged to shut his eyes to the beastliness of his conduct, the sad ruins of womanhood he leaves along his way, his betrayal of the high powers of manhood and of the beauty that nature gave those who were meant to be the mothers of our race. The swindling financier may smile as his yacht steams out to sea, but not if he dares to remember the widows whose fortunes he tricked into his pocket and the modest homes of middle-aged workmen that crashed forever when he pulled the wobbly props from under his quite legal but wholly immoral enterprise.

The sinner is the most one-sided and blear-eyed person in the world. He can find joy in sin only by refusing to face life wholly and honestly. He must shut his eyes to consequences, focus all his attention on the sin that occupies him, blot out all else, or, even on the crest of his sinful delight, he is miserable. The drunkard must forget the consequences to his body, to his family, to his position in life, if he is to find even passing joy in his debauch.

The lustful must refuse to regard his treachery to innocence, his waste of God-given powers, his betrayal of unborn children, that cosmic crime against the future of the race and the goodness of womankind. The dishonest financier must remember only what he will buy in luxury and ease with his stolen money; he must clap his hands over his ears, so that he cannot hear the sobs of the poor and the cries of those his treachery has made wretched.

In other words, the sinner can only be part of a man. He must substitute for the whole of life only his sinful part of it. He must close his life to everything but his vice and what he hopes to wring from it, or he is doomed to misery.

GHOSTS

When Macbeth saw at every feast the ghost of the murdered Banquo, he was merely the poet’s symbol of sinners who, try as they will, cannot shut out from their consciousness the consequences of their sins. Sooner or later their sins rise to haunt them. Mankind has always known that for a fact, and pagan literature, quite as much as Christian, is filled with the story of supposedly dead sins living on to rise and taunt the sinner. The Furies of the old Greek mythology were only the sins of a man following madly after and tearing him with savage tooth and nail.

Of course, sin brings its nervous thrill and its moment of fascinating pleasure. No one denies that. But, as it does so, it destroys the possibility of peace, sows the seeds of inescapable remorse, sets strange ghosts walking the dark corridors of the mind, and lies in wait for the day when it will flash, before the sinner, consequences of his sin which he refused to consider when he found in it his moments or his years of joy.

There is no group of people in the world so much to be pitied as the devotees of sin. You find them everywhere today, rushing from pleasure to pleasure, making of joy a life’s labour, slaving for a few moments’ gaiety, not because they enjoy these cloying sensations and these joys that stale before they are tasted, but because their rush, rush, rush is the only possible escape from boredom, remorse, consequence, memory. Name one famous beauty who went in for a career of sin and did not come to the end of her life disillusioned, world-weary, burnt-out, showing the tragedy of an empty heart and a withered soul.

THE ONLY SIN

We have to remember that when our modern pagan talks of the joys of sin, he means only one sort of sin, sins of the flesh. He knows, without any need of argument, that murder and dishonesty and lies and slander are horrible in themselves and horrible in their consequences. But when he argues in favour of sin, when he tells you, as Maeterlinck does, that if we could look into the eyes of a child and the eyes of a prostitute, we would find their souls equally stainless, we may be fairly sure of his motives. The motive of Maeterlinck was concretely Georgette Leblanc, with whom he chose to live unmarried. The motive of most of our moderns who write glorifying the joys of sin is simply the desire to live by their philosophies.

But God and nature have seen to it that this sin should not await its punishment in eternity. The easily-read story of divorce and infidelity, the unhappiness that reeks in our modern pagan literature, quite as much as the sad little idiot children in our foundling homes and the death-beds like Oscar Wilde’s, are answer enough for those who call this sin a joy.

But, says Anatole France, sin is a proud thing. In the revolt of the angels we have heroism at its height, the proud defiance of a creature towards his tyrannical Creator, a brave war of independence in which the subjects rose against their despot to free the world from the arbitrary dominance of God. This is the type of all sin, for sin is simply man’s proud gesture of defiance against tyranny. The sinner is the greatest of heroes.

Altogether aside from the fact that sin is usually degrading and contemptible—as it is whether we consider murder or the telling of a dirty story, theft, or the gossip of a scandalous tongue, a vile thought or the robbing of a child of its faith in God—there is nothing about it to be proud of.

The angels in Anatole France’s revolt, let us say, had received everything they possessed from the God on Whom they waged war. He was not merely their King and Creator; He was, in a way, their Father, the Author of their being and the source of their benefits. The intellect with which they planned the campaign He had modelled on His omniscience. The will that bound them fast in their rebellion was free because He had made it free. The arms they bore in the war on heaven were fashioned from materials He had lent them. They could not move one fraction of an inch in their wild charge against His throne unless His hand sustained them and His power co-operated with their movements.

So they were more than rebels; they were, at least in desire, parricides. They were sons who, having received their very existence from their father, secured with his resources the deadly weapons they meant to use in taking life. They were soldiers who have been given freedom, high rank, arms, and then turned them all against their country.

Proud? If this were a proud thing, the ungrateful son who drives a dagger into his father’s heart is a model for youth, and Benedict Arnold, traitor to his country, is the first of Americans.

TRAITOR

Proud? A certain man found a very dear and considerate Friend. Of all mankind, this Friend had chosen him to share His secrets and the brave plans of His life. Together they walked and talked and looked forward to the splendid things they would do for the good of mankind. To the man his Friend entrusted His purse, together with His secret dreams. He let him know His secret hiding-place, a garden where He went for prayer. But bit by bit the man grew weary of his Friend. His moral talk annoyed him. His plans were not up to his ambitious expectations. The Friend was more concerned with the poor and some stupid, invisible kingdom, than with the immediate problems of making money and getting rid of the Romans. There was too much morality and too little money about the whole business. In the end the man turned on his Friend, drove a nice piece of business, and sold Him for a fair price.

If the rebelling angels were proud and splendid beings, then Judas was the noblest of the Apostles and a patron saint that humanity should imitate. He, too, took up arms against his Master; he turned on his trusting Friend; he made subtle but deadly war on his Benefactor. Such is every sinner that ever uses his God-given intellect and will, his divinely-shaped hands and lips, to betray the cause of God.

BRANDED

The only thing that keeps sin from seeming terrifying beyond all else is the fact that it cannot at first be recognized in the sinner. Man knows that today he can sin and tonight shake the hand of his friend without his friend’s suspecting the change in his soul. If the filthy thought in the mind found its concomitant in a filthiness in the face; if, when one scarred one’s soul with slander, one scarred one’s cheek with a jagged cut; if the leprosy of sin infecting the soul spread to the body in white, dry scales, men would regard sin with very different eyes.

Fortunately, the adulteress is not obliged always to wear the scarlet letter. The thief is not branded on the hand with his crime. The lustful need not go through life hiding under carefully combed locks the word “Impure” written in red letters across the forehead.

But in the end sin does mark even bodies. There are the obvious cases out of the gutter, from which decent men and women shrink in involuntary horror. There are the modernly common cases of those who once were beautiful, but whose burnt-out, weary eyes have looked too long and too lovingly on sin, and whose faces are frozen into unreal smiles that are ugly masks of uglier souls. There are the hard, bitter mouths of the gossips; the pleasure-hungry, too-bright, animal eyes of the lecherous; the sleek bodies, fresh from the hands of the experts of Fifth Avenue and Bond Street, which you will search in vain for any worth of soul—men and women who seem less kindly than cats, less unselfish than dogs, beautiful but hard, warm of flesh and cold of sympathy, perfect bodies that shelter dead, repulsive souls, lovely figures sheathing twisted, warped, selfish, conceited little spirits. And the modern world of theatre, fashionable hotel, ocean resort, and smart shop is filled with them, equally well-groomed, equally inhuman. God made them; but sin unmade them hopelessly.

IN DISGUISE

Generally it is possible to disguise sin from the eyes of mankind. Hypocrisy is simply mankind’s oblique compliment to virtue. If one cannot be good, one can at least wear the garments of goodness. One will not make the effort to be virtuous, but one will make the effort to seem to be virtuous. So the liar lies to cover his lies. The adulterer hides his treachery under the shadow of carefully-planned secrecy. The clever crook spends unstinted brain power to cover his dishonesty and build up a reputation for scrupulous integrity. Sinners go through life praying the only prayer they know, that mankind will never find them out, that while they live like devils they may pass for saints.

In this very attitude of mind is another proof that even the unbeliever knows that sin does matter. The pagan sinner is eager to hide his sin. Watch him in ordinary life. He writes a vile book, but protests that his own life is stainless. She plays in a vile revue, but hastens to cover her latest moral prevarication with a swift divorce and an easy but socially acceptable marriage. He and she preach a philosophy of free love, but practise, for the world to see, a life of almost Christian decorum.

Only the hopelessly depraved admit their depravity, and even they disguise their vice under the brave trappings of virtue. Is the modern young emancipated lady going a wild and furious pace? Ah, she hastens to assure us, she is simply being honest with herself and waging war on hypocrisy. She never says, “I’m impure”; she says, “I have the courage to live my own life.” Impurity is vice; but courage is a virtue. She admits the virtue and disdains to refer to the vice.

The gangster would slay you for suggesting that he is a murderer or a thug. He is simply a brave man defying the law and making just war on unjust society. He likes to think of himself as the descendant of the fearless buccaneers. He may, he assures us, be a bit careless about human lives, but he sticks to his pals. He may not have a high regard for other people’s property, but he is kind to his mother. He may take his enemies for a “ride,” but he takes the orphans on a yearly outing.

Not one, not even the known criminal, wants to acknowledge sin, and there is no mental terror comparable to the fear that one’s secret sins will some day find one out.

TALKING DOWN THE MOUNTAINS

Call a man a liar, and you have used fighting words. Accuse a woman of slandering her friends, and you have equivalently accused her of stabbing them in the back. Sins of the flesh still make a man feel so close to the sty and the kennel that he commits them in the darkness and by stealth. Even the clean light of day must not be allowed to look upon them. Lust and light Shakespeare said wisely, are deadly enemies. No young man but would die rather than let his mother see the foul pictures and obscene drama that he allows to play within the secrecy of his mind. No crooked banker but fights with all his power to preserve his reputation for honest dealing.

In other words, all the talk of modern philosophy and literature has not really affected the deep human consciousness of sin and its malice. It is a hurling of anathemas at the mountains, a drying-up of the sea with long-winded discussions. Whatever the clever may say, the sane know sin for what it is; and even when they embrace it, they dread it and hate it.

BIOLOGICAL NECESSITY

There is just one more argument raised by the modern pagans against the fact of sin. “We are not free,” they argue. “We are animals, and, like the rest of the animal world, red in tooth and claw. The murderer, like the lion, must slay. The thief, like the jackal, is by nature dishonest. The lustful are so by the same uncontrollable instincts that incite the chimpanzee.”

However clever and convincing that may sound in the laboratory or classroom, it is poor theory to offer to a man weighed down with the consciousness of guilt. The murderer, as he tries vainly to wash the blood from his hands, or the destroyer of innocence, alone with his remorse, would find that poor consolation. On the contrary, the terrible lash that sin cracks over the sinner is the knowledge that he need not have fallen. There may be moments of insanity or blind passion, when reason abdicates and animal instincts usurp. The insane act by animals’ instincts with no more guilt than animals. But the sinner knows clearly that before the sin he weighed and measured it. He could at any moment have said no, and the decision would have stood against any external pounding. He knows that the one impelling motive was his desire for the object of his sin, and he chose it deliberately, either blinding himself to the consequences, or accepting the consequences as unimportant compared with the satisfaction he would find in his sin.

And though the same murderer may sit blandly in court, while his lawyer throws up the smoke-screen of inherited impulses, of temporary insanity and moral blind spots, in the silence of his cell he faces his crime and knows that he deliberately fathered it. No soft consolation that a ridiculous science may offer to the murderer will ever for a moment make him face his soul and say an honest, “Not guilty.” Nor will it make the roué, who carefully hunted down his unwilling victim be able to wash his soul with a consoling, “I was urged on by a blind, uncontrollable, biological impulse.” Against this absurd scientific sob-stuff the voice of conscience speaks out an unanswerable “Guilty.” Science may try to explain away sin; the sinner knows quite well why and how it entered his life.

So, despite the modern world’s feverish attempt to argue away the facts of sin, and, by calling vice by other names, making it smell as sweet as virtue, the grim facts remain. Men sin. Sin is terrible in itself and in its consequences. Every man knows that. And the sinner knows it clearest of all.

********

Father Damien

(LEPER APOSTLE OF MOLOKAI)

INDEX

CHAPTER I

CHILDHOOD

In the little Belgian village of Tremaloo near the town of Malignes, seven miles from the historic city of Louvain, there dwelt a humble family of the farmer class named De Veuster. These worthy people, thrifty, hard-working yeomen stock, lived the quiet simple life of the country, working incessantly from sunrise to sunset, hard manual labour of the fields, tilling, sowing, reaping, with very little intermission or distraction save their evening rest round their comfortable fireside with a rare, occasional visit to the neighbouring city of Louvain.

Francois and Catherine De Veuster at this time were the happy parents of five children, and on 3rd January, 1840, a sixth child was born and was called Joseph, after Our Lady’s Spouse.

From babyhood Joseph seemed drawn mysteriously to holy things and once at the age of four, being missed from his home on a busy pattern day in the village, was sought in vain by his distraught parents. He was found at length in the little church rapt in meditation at the foot of the altar, a lonely figure kneeling in the flickering rays of the little red lamp. It would seem as if he already felt that gentle call, which was to grow ever louder and more insistent, until it led him on in obedient and willing response to the shore of that living death on the Grey Island of Molokai. His natural instinct for religion was ever fostered by the devout example of his parents, especially of his mother.

Each evening, when the toil of the day was over, the family assembled in the farm-house kitchen, where the wood-fire crackled on the wide hearth and the copper utensils winked and shone in the dancing firelight. Then the mother took down the great volume of the lives of the saints printed in old Flemish and read the stirring episodes of those heroes and martyrs. These tales so powerfully impressed Joseph and his brothers that they even tried to imitate their glorious achievements by wandering off into the woods to become hermits with provisions enough to last about a day. Here they were traced by their anxious relatives at nightfall and brought back tired and cold but with their missionary zeal no whit diminished. As Joseph grew older he showed intense love and spiritual understanding of the virtue of self-denial and mortification. This he practised in secret and went so far as to lie by night on a plank which he laid over his bed, secreting it by day, until his mother happening to discover it, forbade the practice.

Though quite a natural boy, he always seemed a little apart from his companions, liking to reflect and to listen to that inward voice ever vocal within his soul. He was extremely sensitive as all such rare natures are, and shrank under the slightest word of reproof; but at the same time of a most happy disposition and engaging manner, with a winning smile that disarmed all unfriendliness. This sunny nature was to be one of his greatest helps when faced with the most terrible conditions in the material and spiritual sphere that ever human being encountered. He loved to follow the flocks to pasture and was frequently to be seen in company with the shepherds, earning thereby the endearing appellation of “The Little Shepherd.”

His love of animals and sympathy for his neighbour in trouble are shown in a moving little episode in which we see him keeping an allnight vigil over a poor woman’s sick cow- her sole support and which was on the point of death. When morning dawned the animal was definitely on the road to recovery.

His love for study seemed to indicate that he was not meant for agricultural pursuits. His parents therefore decided to send him to college at Braine-le-Comte, with a view to a commercial career; there being no idea as yet that he would develop a religious vocation as his brother Auguste had done.

CHAPTER II

THE PASSING YEARS

At Braine-le-Comte he followed his studies with the greatest zeal. A mission there held by the Redemptorist Fathers sowed the seed of his future vocation in no uncertain manner, or rather forced the growth of that seed which was within him from his earliest years. In a letter to his parents shortly after this he hints of his vocation. His sister Pauline had already entered religion, and Auguste had become a novice in the Picpus Fathers. He asked therefore for their consent, and having obtained it, he entered the same Order, the Congregation of the Sacred Hearts of Jesus and Mary. His education not being sufficient to qualify him as a candidate for the priesthood, he had to be content with becoming first a lay-brother, but by dint of hard work and study he was soon admitted to the ranks of ecclesiastical students. He chose as his name in religion that of Damien, after the saint-physician who, with his brother, Cosmas, had suffered martyrdom; a well-chosen name surely for him, who was later to spend his life curing not only the spiritual but the terrible physical ills of his poor suffering leper children. He spent his novitiate in Paris, a zealous, holy novice practising mortification and self-denial on every occasion, a fit preparation for that life of sublime achievement awaiting him though all unconscious of the future. These voluntary hardships of mortification never affected his health, being of the most robust constitution and bodily strength. The foundation of his future work was built up here in long prayerful commune with God, in arduous application to work and detail, in perseverance and intense, prolonged effort, developing a naturally strong character into a force and power, which was to fit him for the colossal task before him-the great act of martyrdom. This is not accomplished in a day or a year, but is the slow and steady growth, the outcome of a long period of daily and incessant self-immolation.

CHAPTER III

DAMIEN SETS SAIL

But Damien’s great desire was for the missionary life. This goal he never lost sight of since he joined what was primarily a missionary Congregation. He had long taken the great missionary saint, Francis Xavier, as his special patron, and endeavoured to model his life on the “Apostle of the Indies.” In 1825 Pope Leo XII had placed the conversion of the Sandwich Islands under the care of the Picpus Fathers, and missionaries were despatched there from time to time. His brother, Pamphile, now ordained, was among the number selected to sail, but within a few weeks of his departure he fell a victim to typhus fever. This was Damien’s opportunity.

He offered himself in his brother’s place, and though still in Minor Orders, his superiors acceded to his proposal, an d Damien sailed in The Cross after a week’s retreat and a brief visit of leave-taking to his home at Tremaloo.

The party, which included five fathers, met in Paris and proceeded to the port of Bremerhaven where their sailing vessel was ready for departure. In Paris before leaving he had his photograph taken; it represents him with a strong face of intense earnestness, clear steady gaze, the face of an Aloysius, telling of latent powers of strength and endurance and burning zeal. A slight shortsightedness had lately compelled him to wear spectacles, which are noticeable in the picture.

Damien set sail on the Feast of All Saints, 1st November, 1863, bidding farewell forever to home and parents and country. After five months of rough sailing in the South Seas with terrific storms which threatened to wreck their vessel they rounded Cape Horn and ploughed through the Pacific (which on this occasion belied its name) and came to anchor in Honolulu, the capital of the Sandwich Islands, on the Feast of Damien’s patron, St. Joseph, 19th March, 1864.

CHAPTER IV

THE HAWAIIAN ISLANDS

This group of islands (also known as the Hawaiian) were discovered in 1778 by Captain Cook, and even at this time idolatry and human sacrifice were largely practised, though the Picpus Fathers had been sending missionaries periodically for forty years. They were lucky, however, in the fact that the native king was favourable to them, and welcomed their arrival; nevertheless a colossal task awaited Damien and his companions.

The islands were also covered with volcanoes, some very active with frequent eruptions covering the ground with lava and making travel, which was mostly on foot, no easy matter.

Before taking up his duties Damien must complete his studies at the Island College and receive ordination. This took place at Whitsun following his arrival in the Honolulu Cathedral by Bishop Maigret, who was henceforth to be his firm friend as well as superior. Next day he celebrated his first Mass. We can well imagine the feelings of Damien on this, the greatest occasion of his life, this, the consummation of all his lifelong hopes and earliest desires-the signal acceptance by God of the complete dedication of his life. At this, his first Mass, he communicated to a large number of natives lately steeped in paganism, assembled to testify their belief in the One True God and the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass. What feelings of awe and fervour must have filled his heart at that sublime moment when he held between his hands the Body of Christ brought down to earth in obedience to the Words of Consecration.

English being the language spoken in the Islands, he took up its study, and with his usual thoroughness mastered it quickly and spoke it constantly in later years. He was ordered first to the Island of Hawaii to the district of Puna, comprising some eight villages where Christianity was very little known, having been without a priest for several years.

His first work was to construct a church. His heart went out at once to his people, whom he described as “Gentle, pleasant-mannered, exceedingly tender-hearted, they are most hospitable and will deprive themselves of necessities to supply your every want if you ask a night’s shelter of them.” From the very first he loved these, his pagan children, and in spite of hardship and exile, strangeness of scenes and surroundings he was happy.

Shortly after this Damien took over a much larger parish at Kohala, which took thirty days to cover. Here he built two additional churches, mostly with his own hands. His great bodily strength and manual training stood him here in good stead. The lazy natives were ever in astonishment at his stupendous feats of strength and energy; they considered it a miracle when they saw him carrying huge beams of wood uphill which three or four of them together could not lift. The bells for his church not having arrived from home as promised, he used a horn to summon his flock to service. The churches were usually made of timber and the worshippers seated on mats instead of chairs or benches.

For about eight years he laboured at Kohala, and then in one of his letters home an ominous note is struck. The beautiful blue of sea and sky, the smiling face of lavish nature hid a hideous poison that lurked in its midst-the scourge of leprosy.

“Leprosy,” he writes, “is beginning to be very prevalent here. It is very rarely cured and very dangerous, being highly contagious.”

CHAPTER V

THE SCOURGE OF LEPROSY

Unclean! Unclean! With what horror has this despairing cry of the leper filled humanity down through the centuries! Nor is the cry silent even today.

Leprosy, that loathsome and deadly plague for which no cure has even yet been discovered, is as old as man himself. Its beginnings are lost in antiquity; but authorities agree that it originated in the Valley of the Nile, and mention is made in the sixteenth century before Christ, in the Ebers Papyrus, of the scourge sweeping through the country. From there it spread to Italy and was carried by the Romans, in their invasion of the other European countries to France, Spain, and finally to England, where, in the time of the Crusades, it spread to such an extent that it is said that half the population was stricken with the disease, and there were lepers in the Church, in the State, and even on the throne. By the fourteenth century it had almost disappeared, helped, no doubt, by the terrible Black Death that swept over Europe carrying off almost half of the population.

Leprosy became epidemic in the Hawaiian Islands about the beginning of the nineteenth century, and in 1865 had reached such proportions that an Act was passed to segregate the lepers. A settlement was chosen in one of the smaller islands of the group-viz., Molokai, an island seven or eight miles wide and about thirty-eight in length. The island was by nature admirably adapted for the purpose, being cut in two by enormous cliffs and mountains of volcanic origin. To this island the lepers were shipped from Honolulu, and it was a heartrending sight to see these poor creatures being torn by force from their homes and relatives and friends to banishment and certain death in this abode of misery and despair at Molokai.

CHAPTER VI

“I WILL GO TO MOLOKAI”

Damien had frequently witnessed the heartrending scene of the departure of these unfortunate creatures doomed to exile in the living death at Molokai. In the words of an eyewitness, “These miserable beings, with a dazed look of lingering death in their fearful countenances, were soon disposed on the deck of a small outward-bound craft, and then in a few moments that intervened between the casting off of the shore line and her making for the mouth of the harbour, the pitiful wail of men, women and children was renewed. Those on the shore wringing their hands and tears coursing down their ashen cheeks. Those on the departing vessel brooding for a time as in dull agony, but anon an unearthly cry rang over the tranquil sea. It was their long farewell.”

Damien, pondering on their fate, his heart torn with sympathy and longing to help them, reflected on what their life in the lazaretto must well be.

Faith must die from their despairing hearts with no priest resident or regularly visiting the island. Physically and morally they were sunk in the very depths of degradation and abject misery; some of those his own dear converts whom he had himself washed in the saving waters of Baptism to lapse Once more into utter darkness.

He knew no rest, no comfort until the desired opportunity arose to come to their aid. This chance was not long delayed. In May, 1873, on the dedication of a new church by Bishop Maigret at which several missionaries were assembled, his Lordship spoke with sadness of Molokai and the fate of the poor lepers where Government restrictions made it almost impossible to send a visiting priest. This discourse struck on the listening ears of Damien as the answer to his fervent secret prayer. Here was his chance then, and coming forward he offered himself with simple directness to his Bishop:

“Monseigneur,” he said, “if you will he kind enough to allow it, I will go to Molokai and labour for the poor lepers whose wretched state of bodily and spiritual misfortune has often made my heart bleed within me.”

This declaration, this voluntary offering, which sounded so simple, what did it mean? What but a self-imposed death sentence; self-condemnation to a living death of fifteen years duration, cut off from his own kindred, surrounded by unimaginable horrors, shortly to be in the grip of that same dread implacable disease that made the inhabitants of the grey island shunned by humanity. . He would be one of those forever, he in that sense would be also an outcast. The Bishop, though somewhat taken by surprise, knew enough of Damien’s steadfast character to recognise that this was no rash impulse, no wild offer made on the spur of the moment; glancing at Damien’s eager face lit up by enthusiasm, but, in whose quiet and steady gaze the light of calm, undaunted purpose shone he accepted God’s volunteer for front-line service.

Taking hurried departure for Honolulu, where a boat was leaving that very day with its sad contingent for Molokai, Damien and his Bishop got on board just before it sailed. So quickly had the whole matter been decided that Damien embarked without time to say good-bye to his friends or to collect his clothes and personal belongings. Empty-handed indeed he might be of material things, but oh! how full of spiritual gilts!-the offering of himself soul, body, health, and happiness at the feet of the Good Samaritan whose example he would humbly follow.

As the steamer reached Molokai the wretched inhabitants came trooping down to the shore to greet the new arrivals. Damien beheld his new parishioners, unkempt, dirty, ragged, in various stages of the disease, maimed and limbless some of them. The Bishop, having presented to them their new pastor, and with a final benediction and affectionate farewell to Damien returned to Honolulu.

CHAPTER VII

AT THE FOOT OF CALVARY

Damien was left alone. He had put his foot upon the Calvary of his own choosing, he must climb as Christ did the Via Dolorosa to Golgotha’s heights; there was no turning back and he would not if he could. But that does not mean that there was no sense of horror, no heart-sinking to almost panic in his soul as the boat faded into the distance and he was left alone-doomed forever in this living graveyard at Molokai. He would not be human otherwise, and Damien was very human and in the prime of his glorious youth and vigorous manhood (he was now thirty-three). These feelings we can but dimly guess. He stood thus utterly alone, unaided, with no worldly possessions but the clothes that covered him, his hurried departure having prevented him from securing even a change of linen. Around him the tropical night is falling rapidly, he must seek some shelter.

Approaching some of the wretched huts, which served as dwellings for the most acute cases, he found from the terrible condition of filth and squalor, the nauseating stench that emanated from them, that shelter there would not be possible. Night in the open under the clear canopy of heaven would be immensely preferable. Looking about him for some kindly bush or tree beneath whose friendly branches he might pass the night, he caught sight of a large pandanus tree. Here he encamped for the night under a sky of sapphire blue, dotted with a million stars. What his thoughts, his feelings, his prayers were as he lay or knelt during the long watches of the night are known alone to his God with whom he held commune, we can but touch reverently on the threshold of such hallowed ground, it would be sacrilege to go further.

Let us take a brief glance around the Grey Island that is to be Damien’s home. The island, the smallest of the group, is cut in two by enormous precipices running north and south. At the foot of these lies a stretch of land forming a peninsula completely cut off by the towering cliffs from the rest of the island. This was the site chosen for the leper settlements of Kalawao and Kalaupapa. Well named “the Grey Island,” the light of the sun never penetrated the rocky heights that reared above it, while below the sea roared and foamed, flooding in winter-time the flat plain that held the wretched hovels of the lepers. The soil was barren and rocky covered with lava formations from a volcano on the island. The lepers (about 800 in number) were housed in dilapidated huts that offered little protection from the weather. They were made of branches of trees covered with grass and leaves. In these the worst and most helpless cases herded together, the less afflicted preferring to lie about in the open in the shelter of a wall, or rocky slope.

The condition of these wretched specimens of humanity was truly deplorable, clothed in rags, filthy, emaciated, in every stage of the dread disease they lay about, many of them waiting for death; some whose very limbs had been eaten away crawled on all fours like animals. The better cases in whom the malady was less advanced sometimes came to the aid of those in extremis; but oftener they were engaged in amusing themselves as best they might by gambling, and drinking a home-brewed intoxicant made from a native plant called “Ki.”

Work there was none; for agriculture, their only resource, was impossible owing to the untillable nature of the soil, and there was no one to organise or instruct them in building, carpentry, or other employment, nor raw materials for such. The Government did almost nothing for them, but shipped them there in their hundreds, gave them a few head of cattle and a very small quota of provisions and told them to shift for themselves for the rest.

Such were the conditions when Damien came to the Island. Mismanagement and neglect by the authorities, the conditions of the Island and of the lepers themselves constituted a state of affairs of indescribable horror. Starvation, lawlessness, and misery prevailed, the dying neglected and left to die untended, while the others ate up all the food provided by the Government and dosed themselves with “Ki,” which drove them mad until the place became a veritable hell of unimaginable horror.

Such was the doomed island when the gentle Damien came to its sinister shores. Such was the task he had voluntarily undertaken in this living graveyard-the task of reform bodily and spiritual of these human derelicts, and if we contrast this picture (no whit exaggerated) with the one he left behind him sixteen years later when his beloved children laid his body beneath that same pandanus tree with lonely, breaking hearts, we must only pause and with awe acknowledge that God has truly worked a miracle through his servant, Damien.

CHAPTER VIII

DAMIEN BUILDS

Whether Damien came to the island in the first instance with his mind made up to remain permanently is not known; but what is quite certain is that after a short time spent there and seeing the plight of its wretched inhabitants he resolved definitely and finally to be one of them to the end. As he says of himself later: “I made myself a leper among the lepers to gain all for Jesus Christ.” Coming primarily as a priest for the eternal salvation of his leper flock, Damien realised that, if he hoped to reach their souls he must start on the lower plane of their material needs. As we have seen, he was eminently practical, possessing a large amount of that very necessary quality in priest or layman-common-sense. This he made haste to apply. The first work to be undertaken was the matter of a water supply. The filthy condition of the people was largely due to lack of water, the only supply available being some miles away, and the lepers being mostly incapable of fetching it from such a distance. Having discovered a spring of constant fresh water not far from Kalawao, he applied to the Government for a supply of water pipes, and with the help of a party of the able-bodied lepers the pipes were laid. This made a wonderful improvement in conditions, as the cleansing of their rags could be effected, and by degrees bathing and washing became a daily routine. He next turned his attention to housing conditions. The recent storms and high tides having swept away their wretched huts, the whole community lay in the open on mats of grass and leaves, which greatly aggravated their condition.

Damien again made application to the Government for timber and other building materials. Soon he and willing helpers, roused to activity by his inspiring example and wonderful energy, were hard at work building and constructing strong wooden dwellings-the labourers” cottages of the settlement. In a few years hundreds of these were dotted over the peninsula, brightening the dreary landscape with their brightly-painted fronts. What a miracle of material progress in such a little time!

He next tackled the authorities on—the food question. Hitherto the supplies had, been totally inadequate, and fresh milk, so necessary to the extreme cases, was entirely lacking. The supply under his continued demands became better and more regular, until finally each person was provisioned with a regular weekly ration of meat, milk, and poi (a species of native arrowroot).

Their interest in life was reawakened, and with it a love of order and beauty. They took delight in the adornment of their houses and gardens, some of which were a pleasure to behold.

He next turned his attention to clothing. The few garments provided annually to each leper were totally insufficient and generally developed into raggedness in a short time, leaving them exposed to cold and wet, which added to their misery.

Damien, by collecting stores of clothing from charitable friends and interested benefactors accumulated the wherewithal to open clothing stores in the few villages now established.

He then persuaded the authorities to grant an annual allowance to each leper for the purchase of their apparel. This, besides ensuring a better-clothed community, had the additional important effect of restoring their lost self-respect. Thus was Damien establishing a revival of civilisation among these poor benighted creatures. His next work was that of hospital accommodation. Hitherto the conditions for the treatment of the sick (or rather the extreme cases-for almost all were sick) were deplorable. There was no hospital in any way worthy of the name; no bandages, medicines, or medical supplies of any kind to alleviate the condition of the poor sufferers. The only substitute was an old disused shelter merely used to house the dying in their last hours. Into this they were carried in the last stages of the disease and left there to die almost unattended.

We can imagine what horrors Damien encountered in his endeavours to tend the sick, to lessen their sufferings, and help them to die. With his usual energy and resourcefulness he succeeded after a considerable time in establishing a regular dispensary where a doctor was daily in attendance. Meanwhile all he could do was to go about himself, with one or two helpers, and dress the sores of the more helpless cases- washing, bathing and nursing, often carrying out his ministrations during the long watches of the night. This, in addition to farming, building and carpentry during the day. Often, indeed, his bed never saw him at all, as with a hot bath and a light meal he began another day. He spent much of his day at carpentry, making all the doors and window frames of the houses as well as all the coffins used on the island.

Up to this the poor lepers, as they died, were thrown into the earth, often coffinless, only a foot or two below the surface, where the wild dogs often disinterred them, causing acute danger to the general health of the inhabitants. During his sixteen years residence Damien is said to have made with his own hands 1000 coffins, and to have buried 1600 lepers.

This live-wire activity of his was not long in effecting a marked improvement in general conditions. He was then able to direct his attention to the building of a church. He collected some helpers from the abler-bodied men, who inspired by his enthusiasm became willing co-operators. He had soon a church established in both Kalawao and Kalaupapa, so that he was able to say in 1874: “These ten years I have been on the mission I have built a church or chapel every year.”

His keenest sympathies were called forth by the leper children, the boys and girls of the island who wandered about neglected and uncared for, many of them orphans and homeless. He formed the plan of establishing schools and orphanages for these poor waifs and strays, and in five or six years after his landing he had the joy of seeing his hopes fulfilled. He had succeeded in making two homes, one for girls and one for boys, and open-air classes for those children, who were able to reside with their parents. He was himself their teacher, and this was, indeed, a labour of love, for he was a passionate lover of children. To his poor orphans especially he was both an earthly and spiritual father. Their interests and their care were ever in his mind, and he could be constantly seen on his daily rounds surrounded by a group of these little ones or in the evening playing tag and ball and other games with them. Then he was at his best and happiest, then his laugh rang loudest. Even on his death-bed the fate of these, his little leper-children, was his only cause of worry and uneasiness. “What will become of my poor leper boys and girls when I am gone,” he asked anxiously.

CHAPTER IX

DAMIEN’S REFORMS

There was tough work, too, for Damien in another direction in reforming bad habits, abuses and lawlessness that existed on the island.

The worst evil and the source of most of the other vices was that of drink. The natives, as we have said, concocted a vile intoxicant made from a mountain plant called Ki, under the influence of which they became like lunatics and devils and ran around wild, committing every kind of excess. Gambling, impurity and every other evil could be traced to this source. Damien resolved therefore to attack this illicit distillation at its source and stamp it out. This was no easy matter, as the owners of these illicit stills refused to give them up. However, by dint of fines and the help of the law, where persuasion was of no effect, Damien succeeded in getting them handed over, but not without incurring many bitter enmities, all of which was to have its repercussion in the evil charges some of them brought against the saintly priest after his death.

His report to the authorities in 1886 describe the conditions he had to cope with since his arrival:

“Another source of immorality was intemperance. There grows along the sides of the mountains a plant that the natives call Ki, whose root when fermented and distilled yields a highly intoxicating liquor which, owing to the crude and imperfect distilling process, is unfit for drinking. The distilling of this liquor was being carried on to a horrible extent when I arrived, and its consequences can be more easily imagined than described on paper. Under its influence the natives would abandon all decency and run about naked and acting as though mad . . .

“The Agent and I went around, and at last, by threats and persuasion got the natives to give up their stills.”

When first Damien came to the Island the non-Catholics outnumbered the Catholics, but by his colossal energy and superhuman activity before his death the Catholics formed two-thirds of the population and their church-funds and property were considerable. Damien was a watchful shepherd, whodid not hesitate at “lifting the lazy ones on with his stick.”

It is said that on Sunday morning as he ascended the pulpit he cast his searching glance over the congregation, marked the absent ones missing from their accustomed places, and Monday morning saw him early at their huts enquiring the reason of their absence and nothing but illness would he take as excuse. Nor was his work confined to the Settlements alone, but extended for a considerable time to the whole island.

Climbing the narrow trail across the mountain he organised various parishes all over Molokai, and built several churches for the people. His zeal in the cause of the faith was unbounded-it extended to all to whom he considered he owed a duty; it was probably this fierce ardour that earned him later, in the opinion of Rev. Dr. Hyde, the description of ““bigoted and intolerant.”

If striving ceaselessly to convert the lepers to the Catholic faith and winning them to religion by every means in his power-if this was being “bigoted and intolerant” he must plead guilty to the charge. But if he meant that Damien ever refused secretly or openly to come to the help of any poor leper because he was a non-Catholic, the charge was utterly false.

In the beginning his help and energy extended to all lepers of every religion, but as the settlement developed under better Government-control his activities gradually limited themselves to the members of his own faith.

CHAPTER X

DAMIEN’S APOSTOLATE

Added to his other difficulties were many in his own spiritual affairs, among others his difficulty in finding a priest to whom he might confess. For this purpose shortly after landing he went to Honolulu, but on his return he was notified by the Government that the stringency of the leper-laws forbade his visiting the other islands again under penalty of arrest. Thus cut off from intercourse with his Bishop and other priests his difficulty forced him on one occasion to have recourse to a striking and unusual method of confession.

The Bishop was making one of his periodical visitations of the islands and as the steamer approached Molokai he requested to be put ashore to enable Father Damien to make his Confession. This the captain refused, saying that it was contrary to the Government’s orders. Instead, they cast anchor close to the shore, and signalling to the priest to approach by boat to the ship’s side, the Bishop stood by the rail of the steamer, while Father Damien made his Confession in French, kneeling in the boat, separated from his confessor by a strip of water.

What a striking picture this conjures up in our minds -the steamer anchored in the tropical waters of the Pacific, brilliant blue of sea and sky, the Bishop leaning over the ship’s side, his hand raised in absolution, the little boat far below where knelt the priest-penitent reciting his sins aloud in all simplicity and humility. Surely a striking and unforgettable scene and typical of Damien, who never allowed any difficulty to come between him and a definite duty.

Thus Damien went with ceaseless activity from one reform to another, piling up a monument of work for himself, but with the satisfaction of seeing most of his projects materialising and his community emerging into a happy and ordered state of life. The Grey Island, the Doomed Island, could be called so no longer, despair was banished and a large measure of contentment arid happiness reigned instead-in the words of a visitor: “The faces one sees are nearly always happy faces.”

Writing about this time he says:

“I am happy to say that my labours here, which seemed almost vain at the beginning have, thanks to a kind Providence, been greatly crowned with success.”

But the horrors his work brought him in contact with took all the sublime charity of Damien to hear. “Many a time,” he said, “in fulfilling my priestly duty at their domiciles, I have been compelled to run outside.—. . One day at a Sunday Mass, I found myself so stifled that I thought I must leave the altar to breathe a little of the outer air.”

Later he adopted the use of tobacco, the smell of which helped to modify other offensive odours.

“Now my sense of smell does not cause me so much inconvenience, and I enter the huts of the lepers without difficulty. Sometimes, indeed, I still feel some repugnance when I have to hear the confessions of those near their end. Often, also, I scarce know how to administer Extreme Unction.”

His great zeal for souls and Catholicity was infectious and, led by his striking example, the results among his leper flock were most encouraging. Whenever the little church at Kalawao was open there was always to be seen a poor leper kneeling in adoration, in fact, the church was never empty. He kept up the ceremonial as best he could, using a set of golden altar-vessels-a gift from France, and was helped in the other church decoration and equipment by the nuns at Honolulu.

He also founded a confraternity called the Guild of Perpetual Adoration, whose rules included prayers for the world outside their stricken island. What a perfect interpretation of the doctrine of the Communion of Saints.

Processions of the Blessed Sacrament were also held on the principal feasts, these appealing powerfully to the natives, and causing them the greatest joy in their participation. Every leper, that could possibly do so, took part in these. Dressed in their best, the little leper children strewed petals from their flower-baskets on the path of the Blessed Sacrament borne by their beloved pastor. Men and women, old and young, the strong, the weak, marched reverent and happy singing hymns, and bearing banners, some crippled and almost limbless crawling bravely on all fours bringing up the rear.

Sick calls also, where Father Damien carried Holy Viaticum to the dying, were carried out with procession and lighted candles as in Catholic countries. Much joy and consolation filled the heart of Damien on these occasions.

Writing it 1874 he tells of the death of one of his flock. “His death was extremely edifying. Longing for heaven, he was constantly repeating thewords of St. Paul: “I long to be dissolved and to be with Christ.” When I came with the Holy Viaticum to his bedside, his faith and love shone forth unmistakably on his countenance. He is buried under the great Cross I have erected in the middle of our new cemetery. With him lie nearly two hundred other lepers, who have died Catholics this last year and a half.”

These consolations alone made his life on the island bearable. The bond of their common faith made a link that relieved his otherwise intolerableloneliness, for during the first five or six years” residence every other inhabitant of the settlement was a native. Often the feeling of utter loneliness was so overwhelming that he confessed “without the Blessed Sacrament a position like mine would notbe tolerable.”

The same Divine source of consolation he ever pointed out to his poor afflicted lepers in their otherwise hopeless misery and despair. “Go to Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament,” he said, “He will not fail you. He alone will receive and com- fortyou and help you to bear your affliction. He will even turn your sorrow into joy.”

CHAPTER XI

DAMIEN-THE MAN

Thus we have touched on Father Damien’s work as a priest and pastor, the Apostle bringing light and hope to the abandoned leper sunk in utter darkness and despair. We have seen him, alone and unaided, facing hopeless odds, achieving the impossible. Where there was paganism and depravity, by his sublime courage and influence he brought hope, resignation and happiness.

Instead of stones he gave these poor outcasts spiritual bread, relieving their misery by the consolation of religion and the hope of heaven. By the example of his burning zeal and loving sympathy he won over the poor leper to God, taught him a love and kindliness to his afflicted brother and a respect for the dead. This was Damien’s perfected priestly duty, for he was above all a missionary by vocation and desire from his childhood days. We have seen him, too, as a pioneer in more material things. He worked no less a miracle on the material plane in order to facilitate his sublime object on the supernatural one, for the souls of these poor afflicted ones must be reached by first alleviating their woes and improving their worldly condition, though never losing sight of the fact that it was as a Catholic Missionary he had come among them, primarily and before all-to win them to God. He was therefore a slave in their bodily service, their nurse, their doctor, the builder, the carpenter, the farm labourer, the coffin-maker; the versatile and many-sided genius who evolved order out of chaos, cleanliness, self-respect and happiness out of abject misery, a well-ordered community in pretty villages with churches, hospitals, and orphan-houses-and all accomplished practically single-handed.

But there is yet another aspect of this marvellous leper-priest which it is worth while to examine -Damien the man. For saints, as we are sometimes inclined to forget, are also men and women of flesh and blood as we ourselves, subject to the same weaknesses and human frailties. To think that Damien never flinched from the horrors he encountered, never shrank in spirit from the future and its dread possibilities is to contemplate an impossible and scarcely human individual, Damien was none of these things. He was an exemplary priest, a perfect missionary, but he was a very human character withal. He was no visionary or contemplative, no St. Francis or St. Theresa, no high philosopher or metaphysician, or learned doctor of the Church as St. Ambrose or St. Thomas Aquinas, but a plain, simple man, whose theological and philosophical studies were perforce cut short by the exigency of missionary demands. He was not an ascetic except in so far as he had to deny himself all in the pursuance of his overmastering desire- the salvation of the leper. He was accused of many faults, and even vices later, by Rev. Dr. Hyde and others; but these were all refuted by an overwhelming balance of evidence as being the lying reports of venomous enemies whom every great reformer makes in the course of his reform. These enemies he unwillingly made among the Government whom he had to fight continually to force them to concede justice and humanity to his poor leper flock. Others he made among the abandoned, lawless elements of the community whose power he broke in vice and drinking. These were forced to yield to his rule, but implacable enmity later inspired them to repeat the foulest lying tales of the saintly Damien, tales that none but the prejudiced, envious mind of a Hyde would dream of entertaining. He was also accused of being dirty, intolerant and bigoted. It may be true that he was somewhat careless of his appearance. A, visitor to the island describes him: “His dress was worn and faded, his hair tumbled like a schoolboy’s, his hands stained and hardened by toil. But the glow of health was in his face, the buoyancy of youth in his manner, while his ringing laugh, his ready sympathy and his inspiring magnetism told of one who in any sphere might do a noble work.”

His ““intolerance and bigotry” as we have said above, can be dismissed as the Protestant inability to distinguish between Catholic missionary zeal and those undesirable qualities so entirely alien to Damien’s real character.

His was a heart capable of the greatest love and devotion, which he poured out lavishly on his beloved leper children. He was their willing and devoted slave even to death. He was at the same time possessed of great power and influence over them, and though loved devotedly was also not a little feared, though more with the fear of dutiful children to a loving father. The erring ones often came up against his moral superiority and had to bend before it. He was of a happy and cheerful nature, his laugh rang out frequent and spontaneous. His temper was quick and sometimes betrayed him into saying somewhat unkind things; but a little later the episode would apparently be forgotten and he would speak as if the whole matter had passed from his mind. He had a most lively sense of humour and could well enjoy a joke even against himself. He was also accused of being autocratic and high-handed and hard to get on with. To be quite impartial there would seem to be some truth in this statement. From time to time a priest was sent to the settlement to help him; but they generally parted after a time having experienced a measure of failure to get on with one another. Possibly Damien felt that he, who had constructed all from its crudest foundations, understood the work and the problem as no one else could, and insisted on his way of handling it. This may have earned him the title of “high-handed” and “stubborn.”

All these points but emphasise his humanness, his natural limitations; but the consideration and acknowledgment of these slight frailties only serve to throw into relief the height to which his holiness soared-that lofty summit that leaves our poor dimmed vision strained in the effort of contemplation. But before he yet reaches that sublime peak his soul and body must pass through the darkest depths of agony and affliction, wringing from him the tragic declaration: “I make myself a leper among lepers to gain all for Jesus Christ.”

CHAPTER XII

THE WAY OF THE CROSS

From the beginning of his work among the lepers Father Damien had always faced the probability, if not certainty, of becoming himself a leper; but up to ten years after his coming to Molokai there was no definite sign of the disease having attacked him. Some accounts relate to his having suspicions that the malady was lurking in his system for many years before any unmistakable evidence was apparent. Under the circumstances the wonder is that it did not attack him long before, for he had been in the closest contact with the disease in the most advanced stages from the time he arrived in Hawaii in 1864. However, it was not until 1884 that there was any certainty about the matter. One Sunday about this time he climbed the pulpit to address his leper congregation. Listening attentively to their beloved pastor, they heard him use the words:

“We lepers. . . . .” This simple phrase conveyed the tidings of the dread reality to his fellow-sufferers; He was now their beloved apostle more than ever, one of them in the very fullest sense. . How suspicion became certainty to Damien is related in one of his letters to his brother Pamphile, and also to his dear friend, Brother Joseph, who tended him in his last illness. He tells of one day when he had taken a long and tiring walk and returning home decided to refresh himself with a hot foot-bath. He plunged his feet into the steaming water-but felt no heat, no sensation. Damien was too experienced in the symptoms of leprosy not to recognise what this meant, for one of the surest signs of the disease is the loss of sensation in any part.

On another occasion, when shaving, some of the scalding water flowed over his bare feet and he felt nothing. The dread conviction was thus borne in upon him-he was a leper. He was at this time but forty-four years of age, of splendid physique, active, otherwise healthy and full of vigour. In the course of his duties he never seemed to worry about the danger of infection, though exercising great care in the early days of his ministration. However, as is, perhaps, only natural, familiarity with the disease tended to a gradual relaxing of precautions.

This was probably unconscious or else, he found, that undue care hampered him in his work. It seems he did relax his precautions and lived the same unrestricted mode of life as the lepers, taking part in their customs and social habits, often on his rounds having to share their meals and even their beds, besides constantly dressing their ulcers, hearing their confessions and administering Extreme Unction. He seemed to have no fear or undue anxiety of contracting the disease; once when asked if he was not afraid of becoming infected he replied: “If Providence sees fit to afflict me, while I am working among the lepers, whether I am worthy or not 1 shall gaina crown of thorns.”

Yielding to the urgent advice of those interested, Damien tried many treatments and socalled cures. The “Goto” treat- ment from Japan was being much used at the time as a means of alleviating, if not curing, the disease. Damien followed the treatment in a Honolulu hospital for some time; but he was restless to return to his work, and we find him back again after a brief space in Molokai. Shortly before he had written to his Bishop: “. . . . . Leprosy has attacked me. There are signs of it on my left cheek and ear, and my eyebrows are beginning to fall. I shall be soon quite disfigured. As I have no doubt of the real character of the malady, I remain calm, resigned, and very happy in the midst of my people.”

Very shortly it was no longer a secret that Damien was a leper. The news went out from the Island and spread like wildfire across the world. Letters, gifts, and alms-offerings of every kind came pouring in to Father Damien for his own relief and the help and comfort of his leper flock. His name was in every mouth. Protestants and Catholics alike applauded him and exalted his sacrifice-the eyes of the world were turned to Molokai. His own people were among the last to hear of it, as his mother being aged and ill Damien feared to break the news to her. It was from a Belgian newspaper the dread fate of her beloved son came to her as she lay dying. “Well then,” was her only response, “we shall go to heaven together.”

Towards the end of 1888, not many months before Damien’s death, he was visite d by the English artist, Edward Clifford, a staunch Protestant. He made a lengthy visit to the island spending his whole days with Father Damien accompanying him on all his journeys around the settlement, dining with him, and chatting together in the evening as they sat on the verandah of Damien’s little villa-presbytery, and gazed over the purple-blue sea with a tropical moon casting its silver path across the waters.

Then Damien would tell him of the wondrous story of his work upon the island and thus their friendship ripened end grew. Clifford spent Christmas at Molokai, throwing his heart into all Damien’s Christmas plans and festivities. There was a beautiful Christmas Mass, with Clifford joining in the Adeste Fideles, and in the evening magic lantern pictures of the Life of Our Lord which delighted the lepers.

Before leaving the island Clifford made a sketch of Father Damien, a sad testimony to the ravages the disease had made in his one-time splendid manhood. It shows little of his former grace and good looks except the curly hair and the smiling mouth. The rest was sadly disfigured, hands and face covered with ulcers, ears terribly enlarged, nose deformed and the bridge collapsed-a travesty of his old vivid and attractive countenance.

About the beginning of the New Year the Franciscan Sisters arrived to take over charge of the female orphanage. The change was not to be effected until after Damien’s death, which was not now far off. Each day saw him growing visibly weaker and less equal to his duties. But the spirit of Damien could not easily be conquered, he was determined to die in harness. He kept up his usual routine as much as possible, saying his Mass daily until near the end, when his hands became so ulcerous that he could no longer do so. This was a terrible deprivation to him, but he accepted it as he accepted all the rest as the Holy Will of God.

Writing to his people about this time he says:

“I am quite happy and contented and though seriously ill all I desire is the accomplishment of the Holy Will of God. I am still able, though not without some difficulty, to stand every day at the altar, where I do not forget any of you. Do you in return pray for me, who am being drawn gently towards the grave. May God strengthen me and give me the grace of perseverance and of a happy death.”

CHAPTER XIII

THE ULTIMATE SACRIFICE

He kept up bravely until the middle of March, but towards the end of the month he took to his bed. This in Damien meant the end. But he remained steady and calm, preparing spiritually and temporally for his approaching death, giving minute instructions about business matters and handing over his various charges.

For a long time he had been worried about his poor leper children. “Who will look after my leper boys and girls when I am gone?” he would ask. That was now arranged for by the arrival of the Franciscan Sisters and his mind was at rest. “The work of the lepers is assured,” he said, “I am no longer necessary to them so I am ready to go up yonder.”

On 28th March he made his general confession to his confrere, Father Wendelin, who said to him: “Leave me your mantle like Elias, when you depart, that I may inherit your great heart,” and Father Damien’s reply showed that even in his last hours his sense of humour and merriment did not desert him: “But what would you do with it, mon pere? It is full of leprosy.”

The nuns, too, after much pleading, were admitted to his bedside (he was extremely careful lest they should risk infection) and received his last blessing. Though almost incapable of speech he managed to whisper: “Take-care-of—my- boys.” Then having received their promise to do so, he lay back happy and satisfied. He seemed to rejoice at the thought of his membership of his religious Order and would murmur joyfully: “How sweet it is to die a child of the Sacred Heart of Jesus and Mary.” He had a happy conviction that he would be in heaven for Easter. “The Good God is calling me to celebrate Easter with Himself. May God be blessed for it.”

On 2nd April he received Extreme Unction, but he lingered on until Holy Week. On the Monday (15th April, 1899), the end came peacefully. With a smile on his lips, as quietly as a child dropping to sleep, Damien died. The long struggle was over, his great heart was still, that gigantic spirit, that mighty fire quenched at last. The long struggle was over; humble of birth-an obscure Belgian priest-yet at his life’s close the eyes of the whole world were turned upon him. He died a hero and a saint.

The bell tolled its sad tidings across the Island and sorrow and gloom settled down on his poor flock. Who could ever take his place in their loving, grateful hearts? He was their oldest friend, to him they owed, after God, all that they were; had he not even given them their hope of heaven? Others there were at hand ready and anxious to carry on the work of Damien, devoted souls all, but he was their beloved first friend and deliverer, who had willingly shared their lives and their fate to the ultimate service-who had laid down his life for his leper children.

They bore him to his rest on their willing shoulders in sad procession -the nuns, his leper flock, his orphan boys and girls, with breaking hearts and tear-dimmed eyes. They laid him beneath the shade of the spreading pandanus tree, adjoining the church enclosure, that same tree, whose friendly branches were his nightly shelter for many weeks on his first coming to his leper home. This was his own choice. A simple monument marks the spot, on one side are the words, “Father Damien,” on the other the inscription:

SACRED TO THE MEMORY OF REV. FR. DAMIEN DE VEUSTER: DIED A MARTYR TO HIS CHARITY FOR THE AFFLICTED LEPERS

APRIL 15TH, 1889.

At Kalaupapa there is a nobler monument, a Celtic cross on the road now called “Damien Road.” On the foot of this is written:

“The greatest proof of love man can give is to give his life for his friends.”

So passed the gentle Damien, leper-apostle, priest, saint and martyr. He embraced the forlorn cause of his leper brother and found heaven on the way. He came to Molokai, to a den of horror and misery untold, he came impulsively, he saw clearly, he conquered nobly, gloriously.

If Molokai today is a model of leper-settlements to the whole world, if, instead of hideous suffering, depravity, misery, and despair there is ordered cleanliness, care, and-yes, even happiness; if the lepers there have become a prayerful people, leading a life of comfort, holiness and civilised well-being it is almost entirely the work of Damien. Others there may be who completed the work, that he made possible; but to Damien must be given the credit of the veritable miracle that was worked during the sixteen years he laboured there.

Vile tongues have not been wanting to defame his memory and depreciate his work, notably his Protestant contemporary, Rev. Dr. Hyde, who wrote vile accusations in the Sydney press a year after his death. This so outraged the feeling of Robert Louis Stevenson, who was personally acquainted with Damien and his work that he sprang to his defence in that well-known tract:A Reply to the Ret.’ Dr. Hyde, that buried that gentleman for ever in a grave of obloquy of his own making.

For forty-seven years has Damien slept among his leper children.

But his dear lepers must sorrowfully part with the body of their revered apostle, for it was decided to transfer the remains to his native soil. On the anniversary of his death (15th April, 1936), the American transport ship, Republic, took charge of the cherished casket, and brought their precious burden to San Francisco en route for Antwerp, which was reached on 3rd May, 1936. There it was met by 100,000 people, headed by King Leopold III himself and the Cardinal Archbishop of Belgium.

The body found its final resting place in the crypt of the Church of the Sacred Hearts at Louvain, a few miles from his own birthplace, where the grave was lined with earth and flowers from his former grave in his beloved Molokai. There were sorrowful hearts among his leper children in Molokai-an empty grave, but he will have an eternal resting place in their grateful loving hearts.

STEVENSON’S VINDICATION OF FATHER DAMIEN

R. L. Stevenson’s famous letter to the Reverend Dr. Hyde, the occasion of which is fully explained in the extracts given below, is regarded by admirers of Stevenson as a magnificent explosion of decent and virile indignation.

FROM ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON”S OPEN LETTER ON FATHER DAMIEN TO THE REVEREND DR. HYDE OF HONOLULU

Sydney, February 25, 1890.

Sir,—It may probably occur to you that we have met and visited and conversed; on my side, with interest. You may remember that you have done me several courtesies, for which I was prepared to be grateful. But there are duties which come before gratitude, and offences which justly divide friends, far more acquaintances. Your letter to the Reverend H. B. Gage is a document which, in my sight, if you had filled me with bread when I was starving, if you had sat up to nurse my father when he lay adying, would yet absolve me from the bonds of gratitude. . . . . .

If I have at all learned the trade of using words to convey truth and to arouse emotion, you have at last furnished me with a subject. For it is in the interest of all mankind and the cause of public decency in every quarter of the world, not only that Damien should be righted, but that you and your letter should be displayed at length, in their true colours, to the public eye.

THE REVEREND DR. HYDE”S LETTER

(Published in the Sydney “Presbyterian,” October 26, 1889)

Honolulu, August 2, 1889. Rev. H. B. Gage,

Dear Brother, -In answer to your inquiries about Father Damien, I can only reply that we who knew the man are surprised at the extravagant newspaper laudations, as if he was a most saintly philanthropist. The simple truth is, he was a coarse, dirty man, headstrong and bigoted. He was not sent to Molokai, but went there without orders; did not stay at the leper settlement (before he became one himself), but circulated freely over the whole island (less than half the island is devoted to the lepers), and he came often to Honolulu. He had no hand in the reforms and improvements inaugurated, which were the work of our Board of Health, as occasion required and means were provided. He was not a pure man in his relations with women, and the leprosy of which he died should be attributed to his vices and carelessness. Others have done much for the lepers, our own ministers, the government physicians, and so forth, but never with the Catholic idea of meriting eternal life.

Yours etc.,

C. M. HYDE

THE LETTER ANALYSED

DAMIEN was coarse.

It is very possible. You make us sorry for the lepers who had only a coarse old peasant for their friend and father. But you, who were so refined, why were you not there, to cheer them with the lights of culture? Or may I remind you that we have some reason to doubt if John the Baptist were genteel; and in the case of Peter, on whose career you doubtless dwell approvingly in the pulpit, no doubt at all he was a “coarse, headstrong” fisherman! Yet even in our Protestant Bibles Peter is called Saint.

Damien was dirty.

He was. Think of the poor lepers annoyed with this dirty comrade! But the clean Dr. Hyde was at his food in a fine house.

Damien was headstrong.

I believe you are right again; and I thank God for his strong head and heart.

Damien was bigoted.

I am not fond of bigots myself, because they are not fond of me. But what is meant by bigotry, that we should regard it as a blemish in a priest? Damien believed his own religion with the simplicity of a peasant or a child; as I would I could suppose that you do. . . . Damien was not sent to Molokai, but went there without orders.

Is this a misreading? or do you really mean the words for blame? I have heard Christ, in the pulpits of our Church, held up for imitation on the ground that His sacrifice was voluntary. Does Dr. Hyde think otherwise?

Damien was not a pure man in his relations with women, etc.

This scandal, when I read it in your letter, was not new to me. I had heard it once before; and I must tell you how. There came to Samoa a man from Honolulu; he, in a public-house on the beach, volunteered the statement that Damien had “contracted the disease from having connection with the female lepers”; and I find a joy in telling you how the report was welcomed in a public-house. A man sprang to his feet; I am not at liberty to give his name, but from what I heard I doubt if you would care to have himto dinner in Beretania Street. “You miserable little ______” (here is a word I dare not print, it would so shock your ears). “You miserable little . . .” he cried, “if the story were a thousand times true, can’t you see you are a million times a lower for daring to repeat it?” I wish it could be told of you that when the report reached you in your house, perhaps after family worship, you had found in your soul enough holy anger to receive it with the same expressions; ay, even with that one which I dare not print; it would not need to have been blotted away, like Uncle Toby’s oath, by the tears of the recording angel; it would have been counted to you for your brightest righteousness. But you have deliberately chosen the part of the man from Honolulu, and you have played it with improvements of your own. The man from Honolulu- miserable, leering creature-communicated the tale to a rude knot of beach-combing drinkers in a public-house, where (I will so far agree with your temperance opinions) man is not always at his noblest; and the man from Honolulu had himself been drinking-drinking, we may charitably fancy, to excess. It was to your “Dear Brother, the Reverend H. B. Gage,” that you chose to communicate the sickening story; and the blue ribbon which adorns your portly bosom forbids me to allow you the extenuating plea that you were drunk when it was done. . . . .

But I fear you scarce appreciate how you appear to your fellow-men; and to bring it home to you, I will suppose your story to be true. I will suppose-and God forgive me for supposing it-that Damien faltered and stumbled in his narrow path of duty; I will suppose that, in the horror of his isolation, perhaps in the fever of incipient disease, he, who was doing so much more than he had sworn, failed in the letter of his priestly oath-he, who was so much a better man than either you or me, who did what we have never dreamed of daring-he too tasted of our common frailty. “0, Iago, the pity of it!” The least tender should be moved to tears; the most incredulous to prayer. And all that you could do was to pen your letter to the Reverend H. B. Gage!

Is it growing at all clear to you what a picture you have drawn of your own heart? I will try yet once again to make it clearer. You had a father: suppose this tale were about him, and some informant brought it to you, proof in hand:

I am not making too high an estimate of your emotional nature when I suppose you would regret the circumstance? that you would feel the tale of frailty the more keenly since it shamed the author of your days? and that the last thing you would do would be to publish it in the religious press? Well, the man who tried to do what Damien did, is my father, and the father of the man in the Apia bar, and the father of all who love goodness; and he was your father too, if God had given you grace to see it.

STATEMENT by

MRS. ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON to

Ave Maria Press

As to the “Open Letter to Dr. Hyde,” nothing can make me believe that Louis ever regretted the subject -matter of that piece of writing. To me, up to his last hours, he spoke always in the same strain. His admiration for the work and character of “that saint, that martyr,” as he invariably called Father Damien, remained unchanged; and any mention of the cowardly attack on the dead man’s memory brought a flush of anger into his face and a fire to his eye that were unmistakable. . . . . . .

Nihil obstat:

W. M COLLIN5, Censor Deputatus

Imprimatur:

@ D. MANNIX

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis

********

Father Faber

BY WILFRID WOOLLEN, M.A

INDEX

FREDERICK WILLIAM FABER was descended from a Huguenot family that took refuge in England in consequence of the revocation of the Edict of Nantes in 1685. His grandfather was incumbent of Calverley, Yorkshire, and in the vicarage there he was born on June 28th, 1814.

FAMILY AND EDUCATION

Frederick was the seventh child in a family of eight, but the early deaths of his three immediate seniors caused a considerable difference in age between his elder brothers and himself, and gave him something of the position of an only son. ‘Frederick must surely prosper,’ said a relative of the family, ‘for he is the child of his mother’s prayers.’ Looking back upon his boyhood, he himself said that he was a most spoiled child. His mother, it is true, clung to the youngest of her sons with an especial affection, but both of his parents took prudent care to cherish the promise which early revealed itself.

Many of the characteristics which stamped his personality in later years were apparent in childhood- the joyousness of his nature, his candour and openness, the gaiety of his conversation, his reliance upon himself.

A schoolboy adventure told by his brother is worth relating to illustrate his eloquence as a boy. He was once caught by a farmer and his wife when trespassing on their premises with some of his youthful comrades. The farmer seemed disposed to proceed to extremities, when Frederick undertook the defence of the party; and the good wife soon interposed in their behalf, saying to her husband in the dialect of the country: “Ye mun let them gan, maister, the young gentleman has sic a pratty tongue.” “This faculty,’ he adds, ‘certainly never diminished in after times.’

Soon after Frederick’s birth his father was appointed secretary to the Bishop of Durham, and the family removed in consequence to Bishop Auckland. Here his imagination was stimulated, and his poetic temperament fed, by the beautiful natural surroundings of his home and by the scenes of feudal splendour at that time still to be witnessed in the ancient city of Durham, a legacy to the episcopal see from Catholic days. Still more powerful, however, was the striking effect which the scenery and romantic associations of the Lake Country made upon him when he was sent to school at Kirkby Stephen in Westmorland.

Amid the beauties of mountain, lake, and forest in which he passed his first, free, happy, school-days, his love of Nature, already ardent, became a passion. A few years afterwards he wrote:

Nature hath been my mother: all her moods

On the grey mountain or the sullen floods

Have charmed my soul.

Inevitably he became, as he grew into manhood, an enthusiast for the poetry of Wordsworth, who said of him that he had more than any other man known to him a sympathy with Nature like his own.

In 1825 Frederick Faber passed from Kirkby Stephen to Shrewsbury School, which he shortly afterwards left for Harrow. Among his contemporaries there was Manning, the future Cardinal.

His mother died when he was fifteen, and a few years later he lost his father. To one of his affectionate temperament early orphanhood was a sad trial, but he was fortunate in possessing an admirable guardian in his eldest brother.

In 1833 Faber went into residence at Banjo College, Oxford. ‘His prepossessing appearance, and remarkable talent,’ says Father Bowden, his biographer, ‘together with conversational gifts of a very high order, made him a general favourite, and he soon laid the foundation of several lasting friendships.’ Something of a dilettante perhaps in his university days, Faber did not strike his contemporaries as likely to develop into the power which he afterwards became. He studied, wrote poetry and articles, spoke eloquently at the University Debating Society (afterwards known as the Union), and gathered round him a circle of men to whom, as to himself, religion was the first consideration.

Faber had gone up to Oxford just before Keble’s Assize Sermon had launched forward the High Church Movement, and the ‘Tracts for the Times’ had started on their momentous career. In spite of the evangelical opinions which he had inherited and which had been strengthened at Harrow, he attended Newman’s famous sermons at St. Mary’s Church, but it was some time before he became a wholehearted ‘Newmanite.’

At the end of 1834 Faber was elected a scholar of University College. In 1836 he took his degree; but his second class was a great disappointment to him, and it was followed by another when he was unsuccessful in gaining a fellowship. No doubt his comparative failure must be attributed partly to his numerous activities, but ill-health, which was to dog his footsteps all through life, must also share the responsibility. However, his success in winning the Newdigate Prize, with a poem on the Knights of St John, was a compensation, and in the January of the following year he obtained his fellowship. This enabled him to carry out his intention of entering the ministry of the Church of England.

‘I have now but one wish,’ he writes to a friend, ‘to employ my whole life in doing the little good to Christ and His Church which my dear Master has rendered me capable of doing in my generation.’ He little dreamt in what way this aspiration was to be fulfilled.

LAKE DISTRICT AND FOREIGN TRAVEL

The Long Vacation of 1837 found Faber with a few pupils at Ambleside, in his beloved Lake Country. There he met Wordsworth, with whom he used to take long rambles among the mountains. In August he received the Anglican diaconate in the Cathedral Church of St Wilfrid’s, Ripon, full orders being conferred on May 26th, 1839, the Feast of St Philip Neri, a day that was to mean much to him in later years.

During a short tour which he made in the summer of 1839 in Belgium and the Rhineland he frequented the Catholic churches, but was somewhat scandalized by their lack of artistic taste and by the apparent careless irreverence of priests and people. Making due allowance for any truth there might have been in his criticisms, it is evident that his insular and Protestant prejudices were still strong. Still, he thus became familiar with Catholic devotions, and while abroad he learnt to say the Breviary.

In the summer of 1840, Faber took up a tutorship at Ambleside. There he also resumed the parochial work which he had begun upon his ordination and continued during the intervening summers. His pastoral zeal in what had been a greatly neglected parish, and his success in preaching, more than doubled the attendance at church. In the autumn of the same year the fruits of his talent for poetry appeared in a volume of verse, The Cherwell Water-Lily and other Poems, which attracted considerable attention.

At the end of February, 1841, tutor and pupil started on an extensive tour on the Continent. Faber hoped by travelling both to improve his health, which he had impaired by overwork, and to make a practical study of how Anglicanism stood with regard to the rest of Christendom. They proceeded as far as Constantinople, where Faber fell ill.

The journal which he kept of his travels and a work based upon it which he published in the following year, called Sights and Thoughts in Foreign Churches and among Foreign Peoples, reveal how far forward the current of the Oxford Movement had carried him since his previous tour abroad, two years before. Now, he is unable to conceal either his admiration for the outward manifestations of Catholicism wherever he met with them, or his growing dissatisfaction with Anglicanism. No wonder that Henry Crabb Robinson, the diarist, who as Wordsworth’s guest at Rydal Mount during the winter of 1842–3 had much theological discussion with Faber, wrote of him as ‘a flaming zealot for the new doctrines’ and ‘a sad fanatic.’

ANGLICAN MINISTRY

An important decision in Faber’s life was made when he decided at the end of 1842 to accept the College living of Elton, in Huntingdonshire. He had been hesitating for some time, held back by his love for poetry, the writing of which he felt he ought now to sacrifice for pastoral work.

When he acquainted Wordsworth with his intention, he received the reply: ‘I do not say you are wrong; but England loses a poet.’ ‘Oh, pray for me,’ he wrote to a friend, ‘that, buried in that village, I may endeavour to live an apostolical life in church, parsonage, and cottages. God being my helper, I solemnly purpose to do so.’ His zeal was to have its reward and in no long time, for in less than three years he was to seek admittance into the one Household of Faith.

Faber considered that the best preparation for his new duties would be the study of Catholic pastoral methods abroad, and especially in Rome. Dr Wiseman, then Coadjutor Bishop of the Central District of England, with whom Faber had been in correspondence through his Foreign Churches, gave him letters of introduction to two distinguished Roman residents, Cardinal Acton and Dr Grant.

Leaving England with a former pupil in April, 1843, he travelled across France to Marseilles, and thence through Genoa, Siena, and Pisa to Rome. At Savona he was deeply affected by the epitaph on Chiabrera’s tomb, written by himself:

Friend, in life I sought comfort

On Mount Parnassus;

Do thou, better advised, seek it on CALVARY!

Faber, taking this admonition as a sermon to himself, resolved to consecrate his poetic powers directly to the service of religion, an intention which, as a hymn-wright, he was nobly to fulfil.

Rome was his goal and Rome, as he afterwards admitted, was completely to change his outlook. At Pisa he notes: ‘Unaffectedly aloof from the city, in a calm meadow, the great tower leaning like a telescope pointed towards Rome.’ Winding up a long letter to his brother, he writes: ‘From the lip of the crater of Baccano I saw the dome of St Peter’s: I have crossed the Ponte Molle, where Constantine vanquished Maxentius, and established Christianity, and by moonlight I have prayed at the Tomb of the Apostles, almost alone in the metropolitan church of the whole world. To describe my feelings is impossible.’

At the Chiesa Nuova of St Philip Neri, to whom he now first began to feel an attraction, Faber saw the room in which the Saint used to say Mass. Alluding to this visit a few years later, he said: ‘How little did I, a Protestant stranger in that room years ago, dream I should ever be of the Saint’s family, or that the Oratorian father who shewed it me should in a few years be appointed by the Pope the novice-master of the English Oratorians.’

Faber engaged in much amicable discussion of the Anglican situation with the Catholic clergy he met in Rome. Cardinal Acton arranged for him, without his knowledge, a private audience with the Pope (Gregory XVI). Dr Baggs, Rector of the English College, acting as interpreter, they had a long conversation.

‘You must not mislead yourself,’ said the Pope, ‘in wishing for unity, yet waiting for your Church to move. Think of the salvation of your own soul.’ When Faber explained that he feared self-will and individual judging, the Pope replied: ‘You are all individuals in the English Church, you have only external communion, and the accident of being all under the Queen. You know this: you know all doctrines are taught amongst you anyhow. You have good wishes, may God strengthen them! You must think for yourself and for your soul.’ The Holy Father blessed him, and Faber, deeply moved by the aged Pontiff’s earnest and affectionate demeanour, took his leave almost in tears.

Faber’s few weeks in Rome urged him perceptibly forward towards the Catholic Church. The unique associations that the Eternal City held with the Christianity of every age, and the piety he had witnessed there, worked upon his feelings, the arguments of the Roman theologians upon his intellect. On two occasions during his stay in Rome he was on the point of being received into the Church, and actually took his hat to go to the English College to make his submission, but was each time diverted from his purpose by some trifling circumstance.

His biographer tells us that his anxiety about his position was the cause of physical injuries from which he suffered during the remainder of his life. Having prayed at the shrine of St Aloysius on his feast-day, he left the church overcome with emotion, and he afterwards said that he saw then that he must within three years either be a Catholic or lose his mind.

A letter written by Faber to his friend, the Rev. J. B. Morris (afterwards of the Society of Jesus), while on his way back to England at the end of September, shows how he is continually revolving in his mind the difficulties of his situation. Is he in the One Church? If not, of what good are his efforts?

‘You have had it put before you,’ he says to himself, speaking of the Catholic Church, ‘look at her catholicity, unity, sanctity, fruitful missions, clear miracles, wonderful saints, ancient things! In one age, while we groaned under dryness and irreverence, were vouchsafed to her Saints Philip Neri, Charles Borromeo, Francis Borgia, Francis Xavier, Francis de Sales, Ignatius, Felix of Cantalice, Aloysius, Camillus of Lellis! You pray in vain, because you have not really humbled yourself before the Church so revealed to you; you confess in vain, you communicate in vain; all are shadows.- So thoughts rush upon me. If in happy times I say, amore amoris Tui mundo moriar, qui amore amoris mei dignatus es in Cruce mori *- then comes the chilling question, Why are you not in the communion where he was who said that, and lived upon it?’

As yet these thoughts are not quite convictions, but he realizes how much more Catholic-minded he has become in the last few months. ‘I have been much altered,’ he says in another letter, ‘since I came abroad this time; but I am very, very, very Roman. I have learnt an immense deal, both inwardly and outwardly; and I hope it will lead to something more than feelings.’

Faber was so very near to entering the Church at this time that it may seem strange, at any rate to those who have not been through a similar experience, that he delayed any longer. But he was fearful of making a mistake, and in those early days, before the stream of conversions had begun to flow, the change of religion for an Anglican clergyman was more of a leap in the dark than it has since become.

Moreover, and this was the strongest factor in the case, delay was strongly counselled by Newman, his director, who was adopting the same policy. Writing to Newman from Berne on this subject, he says: ‘I hope the end of it all with all of us will be the being led into all truth, and that we may be patient during the dismal meanwhile which is before some of us.’

Once back in England, Faber started work in his parish al Elton. He was anxious to pursue his activities there, as he said, ‘in a spirit of St Philip and St Alphonso.’ There was ample scope for his enthusiasm: the parish had been neglected by a nonresident rector, and intemperance and vice were rampant. Faber quickly endeared himself to his flock, and although he met with opposition, before long succeeded in effecting a remarkable reform.

His methods were unconventional. He taught confession and encouraged Sunday games, both unheard-of enormities in the Protestant England of those days. He himself lived a most ascetic life. ‘Luxury was banished from his house,’ says Roundell Palmer, afterwards, Earl of Selborne, who visited him several times at Elton, ‘his expenditure upon his church and people (assisted by very generous help from others) was large; upon himself it was nothing. That he was in all financial respects prudent, I cannot affirm, but he carried into his work a spirit of love and ardent zeal not unlike that of the founders of religious orders in ancient times.’ His spiritual life was certainly largely based upon that of the great Catholic masters, but through lack of guidance his austerities probably exceeded the bounds of prudence.

An undertaking destined to have an important development was the formation among the young men of the parish of a kind of community which met at the rectory every night at twelve o’clock for spiritual exercises.

A letter written after Faber’s conversion by the Rev. A. P. Stanley, afterwards Dean of Westminster, gives interesting glimpses of the social side of his work at Elton. ‘It seems that Faber had devoted himself solely to the parish, and with the great energy of his character and fascination of his manners, had produced an effect on the people which I should think was really very extraordinary . . He had lived on terms of great familiarity with them, having the young men, etc., constantly to dine with him, and read with him in his own drawing-room, and having pulled down all the divisions in the Rectory grounds, so as to turn it into a kind of park, and throw it open to the whole parish to walk in, so that on Sunday evenings there used to be promenades of one hundred or three hundred people, the poorer classes, and he walking about from group to group and talking to them. And thus, whilst the old people liked him for his kindness, there had grown up a “young Elton” which quite adored him, and most of which (about sixteen) have gone over with him, and when Claughton [Faber’s successor] came there he found these young farmer boys talking of “the Church of St Peter, out of which there is no salvation.” ‘

CONVERSION

Faber’s wholehearted plunge into parochial activities failed to bring relief to a mind tortured by doubts. ‘There was many and many an hour,’ he afterwards wrote, ‘of bitter and of earnest prayer . . . as to whether I should become a Catholic, many a kissing of the feet of the Crucifix, and imploring Jesus to let me stay in the English Church, if it could be His Will, and many a heartfelt prayer that I might not draw back when His Will should be made known.’

* May I die to the world for the love of Thy love, who for the love of my love hast deigned to die on the Cross (St Francis of Assisi).

‘I seem to grow more Roman daily,’ he wrote to Newman in 1844, ‘and almost to write from out the bosom of the Roman Church instead of from where I am. I suppose I am not going on as I ought to do, for our system seems more and more to enervate me, and I sometimes get a glimpse of a state of mind which would view my position as a parish priest as that of a man telling a lie to people.’

The influence of Newman was still keeping him back. Newman, like many other Anglicans since his time, was waiting for something to happen that would make the way clear. He had yet to learn that the self-satisfied serenity of the Established Church was not to be easily disturbed.

Moreover, the increasing success of Faber’s pastoral labours created a further complication for him. ‘The actual face of the village,’ he wrote, ‘is changed obviously to worldly eyes, in sobriety and nocturnal quiet:- I really cannot without anguish confront the idea of throwing this up, and leaving these souls to- I know not what.’

Meanwhile fresh trouble was in store for him. An outspoken life of St Wilfrid which he had written for a Tractarian series of English Saints’ Lives raised a storm about his head. Such passages as the following, which was only one of many, seemed rank Popery to ordinary Protestants, and was more than even the majority of advanced Tractarians could swallow.

‘He [Wilfrid] saw that the one thing to do was to go to Rome, and learn under the shadow of St Peter’s chair the more perfect way. To look Romeward is a Catholic instinct, seemingly implanted in us for the safety of the faith.’

In the midst of much mortification caused by friends and opponents alike there came a piece of consolation from an unexpected quarter: Dr Wareing, Vicar-Apostolic of the Eastern District, sent him a letter of condolence. In return Faber wrote: ‘God grant that self-will may not accelerate, nor self-interest retard, any change He may beckon me to. I am far too great a sinner to be plainly told His Will, yet I trust your lordship will acknowledge that even in my position, I am within reach of grace enough to find the right way, if I do not from self-seeking hold back when light is given.’

The conversion of Newman and of several other friends of Faber in the autumn of 1845 made a great impression upon him He increased his penances and his prayers for guidance. The thought Of his flock’s dependence on him still weighed with him, until at length he grasped the truth that the salvation of his own soul must be his first consideration.

There was another difficulty. His conversion would leave him with no prospect of being able to repay a considerable sum of money which he had borrowed on entering his living. There seemed to be a moral obligation to remain where he was until he had paid his debts. But soon he came to realize the rightfulness of ignoring this obstacle to his joining the One, True Church. The decision only just made, there came the generous offer of a friend, who himself had no leanings towards the Catholic Church, to liquidate the debt, with the stipulation that no mention of the matter should ever be made between them.

The last painful struggle now ensued, the upshot of which was a resolve to go to Northampton to make his submission to Bishop Wareing. The dramatic finale to his Anglican ministrations is best told in Father Bowden’s words. On Sunday, November 16th, 1845, at the evening service, after a few preliminary words, he told his people that the doctrines he had taught them, though true, were not those of the Church of England; that, as far as the Church of England had a voice, she had disavowed them, and that consequently he could not remain in her communion, but must go where truth was to be found. Then he hastily descended the pulpit stairs, threw off his surplice, which he left upon the ground, and made his way as quickly as possible through the vestry to the rectory.

For a few moments the congregation remained in blank astonishment, and then, while the majority turned slowly homewards, some of the parishioners, among whom were the churchwardens, followed him to the rectory, and implored him to reconsider his decision. He might preach whatever doctrine he pleased, they said, and they would never question it, if he would only remain with them: but finding him immovable, they took a sorrowful farewell and left him.

‘So much was he worn by anxiety and illness, and so keenly did he feel the separation from his place and people, that he feared to fail in the accomplishment of the sacrifice, and extorted a promise from those about him, that they would take him, if necessary by force, on the following morning to be received.’

On a little piece of paper which he afterwards kept, he scribbled this prayer: ‘O my dear Jesus, accept this intense misery for my sins, and bless my dear mourning people. Elton Rectory, November 16, 1845. Amen, Amen.’

Early on the next day Faber left Elton. He was accompanied by T. F. Knox, then a Cambridge undergraduate, afterwards an Oratorian, his two servants and a lay-helper. Four others left on the same day to join him, and later seven more followed. ‘The party had hoped to escape notice by starting early, but the parishioners were on the lookout, and as they drove through the village every window was thrown open, and the poor people waved their handkerchiefs, and sobbed out, “God bless you, Mr Faber, wherever you go.”‘

That day was a sorrowful one for Elton, but joyous for Faber and his companions, for in the evening they had the happiness of being received into the Catholic Church by Bishop Wareing. Next morning followed their first Communion and the sacrament of Confirmation, in which Faber took the name of Wilfrid.

It is interesting to notice how St Wilfrid had been connected with his life. He was baptized at St Wilfrid’s Church, Calverley. He was made a deacon of the Church of England at St Wilfrid’s Cathedral, Ripon. From his garden at Elton he could see the spire of the church at Oundle, where St Wilfrid died. At Elton, too, he wrote St Wilfrid’s life. Now, aided by St Wilfrid’s example and prayers, he had at last found his true home in the bosom of the Catholic and Roman Church.

Two days after his reception Faber wrote: ‘A new light seems to be shed on everything, and more especially on my past position- a light so clear as to surprise me; and though I am homeless and unsettled, and as to worldly prospects considerably bewildered, yet there is such a repose of conscience as more than compensates for the intense and fiery struggle which began on the Tuesday and only ended on the Monday morning following.’

THE BROTHERS OF THE WILL OF GOD

Faber immediately began to consider how best he could serve the Church, to enter which he had sacrificed everything. An offer of Bishop Wareing to ordain him priest at once, he declined out of humility He decided to settle for the present at Birmingham, where a number of recent converts had taken up their abode and where he found it possible to gather round him the members, about eight in number, of his little brotherhood that had followed him from Elton. His plan, which had the full approval of the ecclesiastical authorities, was to give the brothers a training which would enable them to be of use to the clergy in their parochial duties; choir-brothers, destined for the priesthood, were also to be received.

Financial difficulties having threatened to put an early end to the enterprise, Faber decided to go and seek aid in person from a friend in Italy. The solution came, however, through the offer of Mr Hutchinson, his travelling companion, to join the community and devote to it resources of his own. When in Rome the converts were received by the Pope, who was reminded that his blessings bestowed on Faber three years before had not been without effect. When His Holiness ‘learnt what was the annual value of the living which Faber had given up, he seemed a good deal impressed, and, slapping him on the shoulder, said, “Ah! that was a fine patrimony!” ‘

Back in Birmingham, Faber soon gave his community a more ordered shape. They were now known as Brothers of the Will of God, or Wilfridians, from one of their Patrons. Faber himself took the name of Brother Wilfrid. The brothers spent their time in prayer and study; it was thought that the time was not yet ripe for much external occupation. ‘Perhaps it was because we were still in the first fervour of our conversion,’ wrote Brother Antony (Hutchinson), ‘but certainly in those early days we seemed to live almost in the companionship of the Saints and the Madonna.’

The Wilfridians naturally came in for a good deal of criticism, particularly from hereditary Catholics, who were narrowly watching the proceedings of the converts. That Brother Wilfrid, a layman and a Catholic of only a few months’ standing, should have charge of a community, some of whom were preparing for the priesthood, was a sufficiently anomalous situation. He himself was as much aware of it as anybody, yet he had been placed there by the Bishop, who had expressed his confidence in him and had told him to hold on in spite of misunderstandings

The community’s stay at Birmingham was to be of short duration. In the summer of 1846 Brother Wilfrid received from Lord Shrewsbury the munificent offer of Cotton Hall, Staffordshire, as a monastery. This proposal, after careful consideration, he decided to accept, and accordingly the community moved to its beautiful new home early in September.

One of their first undertakings at Cotton was the building of a church, from designs by Pugin. This was dedicated to St Wilfrid, and on his day (October 12th) the foundation-stone was blessed by Bishop Walsh. At the same time Brother Wilfrid and two other brothers received the tonsure and the four minor orders. At the end of a ten days’ retreat which followed, Brother Wilfrid’s health broke down so seriously that he was given the last sacraments. Shortly afterwards, through the mercy of God, he made a satisfactory recovery and was directing his community as usual.

For a few months the brothers found their missionary work hampered through having no priest in the community. The difficulty was soon to be happily overcome through the ordination of Brother Wilfrid, who was raised to the priesthood by Bishop Wiseman at Oscott on Holy Saturday, April 3rd, 1847. On his return to Cotton on the same day, the people of the place met him and dragged his carriage themselves in triumphal procession to the house.

Father Faber was now in sole charge of the mission of Cotton. Under his direction the visitation was begun of every house in his extensive parish. Many Protestants were induced to come to the chapel, and in the summer his congregation had grown to such proportions that he had to preach outside in a yard near the house or under the beech trees in the garden.

Conversions were numerous: in less than four months after his ordination Father Faber had received about 150 people into the Church. The success of his labours naturally aroused considerable opposition, but in a short time only one Protestant family was left in the parish.

THE WILFRIDIANS JOIN THE ORATORY

Hitherto the Brothers of the Will of God, as a newly-founded Institute, had not been under vows. Towards the end of 1847 it was thought that they were sufficiently well established for the priest-members, Father Faber and Father Antony Hutchinson, to make their vows to Bishop Wiseman, who was then Administrator of the London District. It happened that at this time Father Newman was returning to England as Superior of the Oratory of St Philip Neri. One day when Father Faber was at meditation, and, as he said, when nothing was further from his thoughts, he felt an interior call to join the Oratory. The matter was discussed with the choir-brothers, who on hearing of his experience expressed their acquiescence.

No sooner was the decision made than the two Wilfridian priests were summoned to London to Bishop Wiseman, who was expecting to receive their vows. The Bishop, on being informed of their new plans, ‘solemnly approved of the whole as coming from God, and being His adorable Will.’

The step was a great sacrifice for Father Faber. Not only was he, the founder and Superior of an Institute, to become a mere novice, but he understood that he was never to return to St Wilfrid’s, a place which had already become endeared to him on account of its natural beauty and the wonderful success of his labours. On February 14th, 1848, the second anniversary of the day on which he had drawn up the Wilfridian rule, he and his community were solemnly admitted into the Congregation of the Oratory.

‘Father Superior has now left us,’ he wrote, ‘all in our Philippine habits with turndown collars, like so many good boys brought in after dinner Since my admission I seem to have lost all attachment to everything but obedience; I could dance and sing all day, because I am so joyous; I hardly know what to do with myself for very happiness.’

Father Faber’s novitiate was a busy one. Having spent a short time at Maryvale, the Oratorian house, he was, after all, allowed to go back to St Wilfrid’s. He preached in a number of the London chapels during Lent, and in consequence of his various labours he fell ill. While at Scarborough, where he was sent to recuperate, he wrote the first two of his hymns, Mother of Mercy! and Jesus! my Lord, my God, my All! Towards the end of July he was dispensed from the rest of his novitiate and was himself made novice- master.

In October, 1848, the Oratorians, who now numbered more than forty, seemed to be outgrowing their home at Maryvale. Accordingly they decided to move to St Wilfrid’s, which was larger and more attractive. Here they found all round them a Catholic atmosphere unusual at that time anywhere in England.

It was in the autumn of this year that there came to a head a controversy, which had been going on for some time, concerning a series of Lives of the Saints which Father Faber had been editing. These Lives were merely translations of authorized foreign works. No attempt had been made to adapt them in any way, Father Faber believing that the publication in their entirety of what were classical works of piety in Catholic countries would best supply the need of English-speaking Catholics for devotional biographies of the saints, particularly of the more modern ones.

The project met with a mixed reception. Many welcomed the series, but it lad been opposed from the first,’ says Father Bowden, ‘by persons who considered the publication of such Lives injudicious, as being both unsuited to the condition of English Catholics, and likely to disgust and repel Protestants.’

When Father Faber entered the Oratory, the question arose as to whether the work should be continued as an Oratorian enterprise. Father Newman consulted the Bishop (Dr Ullathorne) on the matter, and he advised that the Lives should be issued in a different form. As this was regarded as an expression of disapproval, the series was suspended.

‘Letters were received by Father Faber from all quarters,’ says his biographer, ‘lamenting the suspension, and expressing the hope that it was but temporary. Many instances thus came to light of the good which the Lives had done, one person, to take a single instance, declaring that they had saved him from apostasy.’ Bishop Ullathorne publicly made it known that the Lives were not suppressed by the intervention of authority, as many had concluded, and expressed his own regret at their cessation. These considerations prompted the Oratorian Fathers to resume the series early in January, 1849.

THE ORATORY IN LONDON

As by their rule Oratories can only be established in towns, Father Newman about this time moved a portion of the community to Birmingham, where he decided to make a permanent settlement. Dr Wiseman urged him to transfer the Oratory to London. Father Newman, however, suggested instead that another house of the Congregation should be started in the metropolis. The proposal having met with cordial acceptance, premises in King William Street, Strand, were acquired as a temporary home. They consisted of two houses, with a large one-storied building at the back, the upper room of which was decided on as a chapel. The site is now occupied by the Charing Cross Hospital.

Father Faber was put in charge of the new enterprise, and the last and greatest stage of his career- his London apostolate- was reached when he and several members of the St Wilfrid’s community arrived at their new and almost unfurnished abode on April 28th, 1849.

By dint of hard work the chapel was got ready for opening on May 31st. Dr Wiseman assisted pontifically and preached. The establishment of the Oratorians in London was particularly welcome to him as St Philip’s friends were his; he himself was a brother of the Little Oratory, and he had made a promise to St Philip that he would do his best to introduce the Oratory into England, a pledge which he had been able to fulfil by guiding Newman’s vocation into the congregation.

The methods of the Oratorians aroused much comment, even from Catholics. The marks of the Penal Laws were still upon Catholics in England. By tradition retiring, many of the hereditary English Catholics disliked the prominence into which the Oratorians and their friends brought the whole Catholic body. Moreover, the new devotions the Oratorians introduced from abroad, their popular hymns, and their style of preaching presented Catholic piety at an angle which some were too insular to appreciate. While the soundness of the religion of these descendants of the martyrs was never in question, it was not always proof against a certain narrowness of outlook.

It must be borne in mind that in 1849 the Catholic Church in England was still a long way from the position of comparative importance and influence that it holds today. In the whole of London at that time there were only 42 churches and 84 priests. The churches themselves presented a very different appearance; we should have considered them very scantily equipped. The metropolis could boast of only one statue of Our Lady.

The coming of Father Faber to London struck a new note in the English Catholic world. Disregarding traditional caution, he set to work with untrammelled optimism on the lines he had learnt from St Philip. At once his efforts were rewarded with success, and the increased fervour of the faithful and a fruitful crop of conversions effectively silenced criticisms.

Protestant London became seriously alarmed at the Popish invasion, anti-Oratorian hostility reaching its climax at the end of 1850, during the agitation arising from the re-establishment of the Hierarchy in England. ‘All over the walls,’ wrote Father Faber, ‘you see “Down with the Oratorians,” “Beware of the Oratorians,” “Don’t go to the Oratory,” “Banishment to the Oratorians,” and in Leicester Square a triple placard of singular truthfulness, “No Popery! Down with the Oratorians! No religion at all!”‘

Meanwhile the Oratorians continued unperturbed their many good works, in which Father Faber took more than his share. In the autumn of 1849 he and two other Fathers assisted during an outbreak of cholera among some Irish hoppickers in Kent, at the instance of the Protestant rector of the parish, who was a year later received into the Church.

The great Confraternity of the Precious Blood was formally inaugurated on the first Sunday of July, 1850. During the same year Father Newman gave before a distinguished congregation in the Oratory Chapel his lectures on The Difficulties of Anglicans, which resulted in many conversions.

As Oratorian communities are autonomous, and as the London Oratory had been from the beginning an obvious success, it was soon thought that the time had come to make of it a separate foundation. Accordingly the London body was released from its obedience to Father Newman, and on St Wilfrid’s Day, 1850, Father Faber was elected Superior, an office which he continued to hold, by re-election every three years, until his death.

In the autumn of 1851, the state of his health having rendered a complete change and rest advisable, Father Faber resolved to carry out a plan he had long cherished of visiting the Holy Land. Unfortunately, he was too ill to proceed beyond Malta. While there he was mistaken for his uncle, the Rev. G. S. Faber, a noted protagonist of Protestantism. ‘A certain Canon Psaila,’ he wrote, ‘has written an answer to my uncle’s Difficulties of Romanism in 780 pages: a copy is coming to me to read! I am said to have written the Difficulties in old times, and priests cry over me, and say, Che grazia!’

On their return journey Father Faber and his companions passed through Rome, where they were granted an audience by Pope Pius IX. The Holy Father,’ says Father Bowden, ‘received them most graciously, and asked Father Faber what privileges he would like to have. “Nothing for myself alone, Beatissimo Padre,” was his answer, “but whatever Your Holiness pleases to give to my Congregation.” On his presenting a petition for a daily Plenary Indulgence for the Church of the Oratory, the Pope said, “This must go to the Congregation of Rites.” “Ah! Holy Father,” answered Father Faber, “you can do it yourself if you will”; upon which the Pope laughed and signed the paper.’

In September, 1852, Father Faber paid his first visit to Ireland. Everywhere he received an enthusiastic welcome. He preached twice at the Jesuit Church; Gardiner Street, Dublin, during a Triduum which was being celebrated in honour of the Beatification of Father Peter Claver, of the Society of Jesus.

An incident which occurred in the Advent of the same year exemplifies his particular regard for the Irish people. Father Faber and some of the other Fathers were giving a mission at their schools in the slums of Holborn. The majority of the Catholics of the neighbourhood were Catholics only in name. ‘It was difficult,’ says Father Bowden, ‘to move souls which had been so long hardened by neglect, but at length Father Faber, at the end of an impassioned sermon, which was but coldly listened to, exclaimed: “How can I touch your hearts? I have prayed to Jesus; I have prayed to Mary; whom shall I pray to next? I will pray to you, my dear Irish children, to have mercy on your own souls.” These words, and the sight of Father Faber kneeling before them, had a wonderful effect; the whole congregation fell on their knees, and for some minutes nothing was heard but their sobs and prayers.’

THE MOVE TO BROMPTON

An important undertaking was begun in the spring of 1853, when work was started on a new and permanent home for the community at Brompton, which was at that time practically a country suburb of London. A house was erected and a temporary church, the Fathers agreeing with Father Newman that ‘a house will build a church, but a church will never build a house.’ They moved to their new quarters in March, 1854, and the church was opened later in the same month. There, in spite of the scantiness of the Catholic population in the neighbourhood, the exercises and devotions soon became well frequented, the success of the services being largely due to Father Faber’s careful superintendence of very detail.

At the Oratory Father Faber lived a most retired life; on the rare occasions on which he left its precincts, it was generally either to spend a few days at St Mary’s, Sydenham, the country-house of the community, where he would continue his literary labours, or to pay a visit to one of the schools in the Fathers’ charge. There he was always certain of an enthusiastic welcome. Children, indeed, were always attracted to him; with him, as with St Philip, fondness for children was a marked characteristic.

As time went on, the scope of Father Faber’s work increased. His correspondence became very large, his books stimulating numerous requests for spiritual assistance, which was always ungrudgingly given, and from 1856 he acted as novice-master as well as Superior. In addition to the cares which these offices entailed, he laboured under the burden of ever-present financial anxiety, which was responsible for many of the numerous illnesses from which he suffered for the last few years of his life. Yet even when almost crushed under a load of severe pain, he would patiently continue his work of writing, directing, and preaching.

Sometimes sudden collapse would terminate his activities for a time. One such blow fell on the occasion of a visit to Ireland in the summer of 1855, when on reaching Dublin he became seriously ill. He was moved to Bray, where his health began to improve, but it was some weeks before he could return home. His physician then told him that he had before him a long period of great suffering. ‘Well! it is something to know the worst,’ he wrote: ‘I can’t get well except through excruciating torture. It may come soon, it may be delayed for months. . . . At present I am a little excited, and I may mope a little afterwards. But, as far as my will goes, I am quite ready for the suffering, and don’t doubt it is an immense love which makes God think it worth His while to take so much pains with me.’

PREACHER AND WRITER

Father Faber’s exceptional gifts as a preacher are best described in the words of his friend and contemporary,

Cardinal Manning:

‘He had a facility and flexibility of mind and voice, a vividness of apprehension and of imagination, a beauty of conception and of expression- a beauty that is to the eye and to the ear, with a brightness of confidence, as of a man who lived in the light and peace of God, and a longing desire to make others possess the happiness he enjoyed. . . .

Father Faber’s preaching was not a discourse elaborately worked out and delivered with a sensible or conscious effort but the overflow of a mind perpetually fed from its own inward sources, and pouring with an exuberance of which we have known no example.’

If Father Faber had concentrated the whole of his energies on the foundation of the London Oratory and his apostolate there, he would have left an enduring monument of his greatness. Yet within the narrow compass of eighteen years of Catholic life he found time, amid the distraction of urgent cares, to compose the hymns and spiritual works which, more than all else, have made his name familiar to the whole Church as a great servant of God. His hymns are sung by English-speaking Christian congregations, both Catholic and Protestant, throughout the world. Such hymns as Jesus! my Lord, my God, my All!- Mother of Mercy!- O purest of creatures!- Oh turn to

Jesus, Mother! turn- Faith of our Fathers!- O Paradise! O Paradise!- to mention only half-a-dozen out of 150—have for most of us the same familiar ring as our best-known prayers. Their apt poetical expression of a warm personal devotion is sufficient to explain their popularity.

Father Faber’s first work of importance as a Catholic, All for Jesus, appeared in July, 1853. A rapid writer, he wrote the whole in about six weeks. But it must be remembered that he often worked at it sixteen hours a day and that he made sedulous preparations for his works for a long time beforehand. He was an assiduous reader (and not of theological books alone- he is said to have asked for Dombey while on his death-bed) and an ardent collector of books bearing on the subjects of his studies; these were the nucleus of the noble library of the London Oratory. All for Jesus, or, the Easy Ways of Divine Love was an attempt, so its author explains in the preface, to assist people living in the world to sanctify themselves in their ordinary vocations, by putting before them things which, while being attractive as devotions, tend to raise their fervour and quicken their love and increase their happiness in practical religion and its duties. ‘The name of his first book,’ said Cardinal Manning, ‘is like a note in music; in all his writings, in all his teachings, there is the same strain throughout- All for Jesus.’

Its success was immediate. Four editions were issued in about nine months. It circulated far beyond the shores of these islands, and versions appeared in French, German, Flemish, Italian, and Polish. Of all Father Faber’s books it has always made the greatest appeal.

The secret of the popularity of All for Jesus and his other works lies in the almost unique combination of qualities which they exhibit. Here we find the results of his wide reading in dogmatic and ascetic theology woven into an harmonious pattern by means of an original and graceful literary style. What strikes the modem reader most is the freshness of Father Faber’s writing; it does not ‘date.’ If here and there we meet what might be called an extravagance, we must remember Cardinal Newman’s reply to a Protestant critic of Father Faber: ‘He was a poet.’ Between 1853 and 1860 Father Faber wrote and published eight substantial volumes on the spiritual life, a remarkable feat considering the number and variety of his ordinary occupations.

Growth in Holiness, or, the Progress of the Spiritual Life (1854) is concerned with those souls who are engaged in

‘patient perseverance in the humbling practices of solid virtue.’

The object of The Blessed Sacrament, or, the Works and Ways of God (1855) was to ‘popularize certain portions of the science of theology, in the same way as handbooks and manuals have popularized astronomy, geology, and other physical sciences.’

The Creator and the Creature (1856), Father Faber tells us, ‘stands to the author’s other works in the relation of source and origin.’ Love is the motive of God in creation, as it should be the mainspring of the activities of His creatures. Here, indeed, we have the gist of Father Faber’s message. He insists on the necessity of a ‘personal love of the Creator, a religion which is simply a service of love, a love which brings us within the suck of that gulf of the

Divine Beauty which is our holiness here as it is our happiness hereafter.’

Father Faber planned a series of works on the Passion, only one of which he was destined to complete- The Foot of the Cross, or, the Sorrows of Mary. This was published before the Lent of 1858. Early in the following year appeared his Spiritual Conferences, a work which is said to be typical of the sermons he was accustomed to preach. In The Precious Blood, or, the Price of our Salvation (1860) Father Faber expounds the dogma of our redemption through the Blood of Jesus, dwells on its implications and proceeds to the devotion to the Precious Blood, which he regarded as a kind of development of the devotion to the Sacred Heart. The accomplishment of a work dealing with a favourite devotion of his must have been a source of especial satisfaction to Father Faber, as no doubt it was to the members of the Confraternity of the Precious Blood, for whom it was written and to whom it was dedicated. In the Advent of 1860 appeared Bethlehem. This was Father Faber’s last great work, as was fitting for a book which he used to say he wrote to please himself, the rest having been written to please others.

LAST DAYS

Up to the end of 1861 Father Faber had been so far successful in his struggle with ill-health that he had been able to carry on his normal occupations with fair regularity. From this time onwards, however, encroaching disease compelled him practically to renounce both the pen and the pulpit.

On Passion Sunday, 1863, he preached his last sermon of all, on Our Blessed Lord Bowing His Head upon the Cross. On April 26th, the Feast of the Patronage of St Joseph and the anniversary of the foundation of the Oratory in London, he said Mass for the last time.

Cardinal Wiseman paid him a visit of farewell on July 14th, and later in the day sent him a letter in the course of which he said: ‘I cannot but think how consoled and fortified you must feel, by your having, from the moment of your joining the Church, so entirely devoted your time and abilities to the particular and almost exclusive work of promoting and extending in it the spirit of holiness and true piety. And your exertions have been eminently blest not only in England but in every country, as the Holy Father himself declared to me.’

In spite of excessive suffering he maintained his keen interest in all the affairs of his religious family. The doctors gave no hope of a cure. Early in September he became worse. On the evening of the 25th it became evident to the sorrowing Fathers that their beloved Superior was dying. Informed of his state, he fervently repeated his favourite ejaculation, ‘God be praised!’ Shortly after seven the next morning peacefully came the end. Father Bowden tells us that as he knelt before the Father’s death-bed, it seemed the realization of the picture which he himself had drawn *:

‘Only serve Jesus out of love, and while your eyes are yet unclosed, before the whiteness of death is yet settled upon your face, or those around you are sure that that last gentle breathing was indeed your last, what an unspeakable surprise will you have had at the judgment-seat of your dearest Love, while the songs of heaven are breaking on your ears, and the glory of God is dawning on your eyes, to fade away no more for ever!’

*All for Jesus, ch. ii.

‘For this was the end of a life,’ adds Father Bowden, ‘which from the first to last had been religious. In early childhood the things of God had been his joy; as he grew up he sought painfully and anxiously the truth as it is in Christ, and then had given up all to find it. Every letter tells that it was his engrossing thought, every line of poetry bears the mark of heavenly aspiration; the golden words wherein his work will be still continued, and the sweet music of his hymns of praise, speak in language which cannot be mistaken the singleness of purpose with which he sought the interests of Jesus, and the chivalrous ardour with which he promoted the Church’s cause. To this he devoted talents, energy, and health, only caring to labour where the Will of God had placed him, and thus, when he came to die, his history might have been written in the simple words—he served Jesus out of love.’

A crowded church for solemn vespers of the dead on September 29th and for the high Mass of requiem next day bore witness to the widespread and intense sorrow felt at the much-loved Father’s early death. Numbers followed the funeral procession on foot the many miles to St Mary’s, Sydenham, where he was laid to rest in the little cemetery at the foot of the cross of its consecration.

EPILOGUE

SINCE this pamphlet was first published, Father Faber, by Ronald Chapman (London, Burns & Oates, 1961), has appeared. The life by Father John Bowden has long been out of print, and in any case it was written so soon after Faber’s death that much had to be left unsaid that no offence might be given to those still living. It is all past history now and Ronald Chapman was given access to the private letters and papers in the archives of the London and Birmingham Oratories. And while the rest of Father Faber’s works are out of print in this country, Messrs. Burns & Oates have recently brought out new editions of Growth in Holiness and of The Creator and the Creature, both with introductions by Ronald Chapman.

In 1951 the London County Council, using the compulsory powers it possesses, acquired the Congregation’s country house, St Mary’s, Sydenham Hill, referred to in the pamphlet, for a housing estate. This necessitated the removal of the bodies of the Fathers and Brothers of the Congregation who had all, up to this date, been buried in the private cemetery in the grounds of St Mary’s.

The rest of the bodies were transferred to a plot acquired by the community in the Gunnersbury cemetery, but, with the permission of the ecclesiastical and civil authorities, Father Faber’s body was reinterred in the Oratory church, before the altar of St Wilfrid, his patron. His resting place is marked by a grey marble slab in the floor of St Wilfrid’s chapel with the inscription:

HOC LAPIDE TEGUNTUR OSSA PRAEPOSITI PRIMI CONGREGATIONIS HUIUS ORATORII LONDINIENSIS FREDERICI GULIELMI FABER OBIIT VI KAL OCTOBR A S MDCCCLXIII AETis SUAE XLIX POST HABITUM S PHILIPPI INDUTUM XV R I P

- ‘this stone covers the remains of the first Provost of this London Congregation of the Oratory, Frederick William Faber. He died on the 26th September, 1863, the forty-ninth year of his age and the fifteenth after putting on the habit of St Philip. R.I.P.’

But of Father Faber, as of Sir Christopher Wren, one might well have written up in the London Oratory church: ‘Si monumentum requiris, circumspice’- ‘If you seek his monument, look around.’

V. J. M

Father Therry-100 Years On

INDEX

IMPRIMATUR:

© JUSTIN D. SIMONDS,

Archiepiscopus Melburnensis. 5th June, 1964.

Nihil Obstat:

BERNARD O’CONNOR, Diocesan Censor.

July 10, 1964

THE CONVICT CART

Through the streets of Cork in 1818 there rumbled a wagon load of convicts. Bound for Botany Bay, the twenty or thirty prisoners were in irons on their way to the docks. A young priest stopped the driver and learnt of their destination. On the spur of the moment he ran into a neighbouring bookshop, bought a bundle of prayer books and threw them into the cart, vowing to follow his countrymen to the ends of the earth, if needed, to save their souls.

In retrospect, that handful of books was the scattering of his first seeds of Catholicism in Australia, for the young priest was John Joseph Therry, secretary to Bishop Murphy of Cork. Such an act was typical of the warm-hearted and impulsive young man ordained only three years earlier. Born in the City of Cork in 1790, he was able to enjoy the luxury of a private tutor with his brothers, James and Stephen and his sister, Jane Anne, during his early years. As a seminarian at St. Patrick’s College, Carlow, he seems to have been a thorough if not brilliant student.

His family was hit by financial losses in those years. “The course of my college studies was interrupted at an early stage by family embarrassment,” he wrote in 1819. At his own request he was ordained prematurely by the Archbishop of Dublin in 1815. Even before Father O’Flynn had sailed on his ill-fated mission to New South Wales, Father Therry had seriously considered volunteering for that mission field. But now three years had gone by, and he had not made a move.

BOUND FOR BOTANY BAY

The impression caused by the sight of the convicts in Cork and the furore aroused by Father O’Flynn’s deportation were still fresh in his mind when an explicit invitation came from the Bishop of Mauritius and New Holland, Dr. Edward Slater. He accepted cheerfully, despite doubts of his own worth. A portrait of this year, 1819, reveals his features. “Of middle size in build, his countenance is at once fine and manly . . . in manner he is dignified and commanding. There is nothing of show or vanity about him.” Father Therry would need all these qualities for the work ahead.

His Bishop was sorry to lose such a fine secretary. Yet, besides his blessing, he gave practical help in the shape of vestments, books and money.

With Government sanction this time, to prevent a repetition of the O’Flynn incident, Father Therry sailed from Cork in the convict ship “Janus” on December 5th, 1819. With him sailed a fellow volunteer in Father Philip Connolly. They landed in Sydney nearly five months later.

SYDNEY TOWN

The news of their arrival spread like wildfire. Without Mass and the Sacraments now for nearly two years, the Catholic stalwarts, such as William Davis, James Dempsey and Michael Dwyer, vied with each other in offering hospitality to the new priests. Father Therry’s first Mass on Australian soil was on May 8th, an auspicious day for one who would be as militant as St. Michael in defending the faith.

They got to work quickly. A public meeting in June adopted a resolution to build a permanent church in Sydney town. It met with an enthusiastic reception in Catholic circles, and with financial support in most of the Protestant community.

There was little time for the priests to find their land legs. Missionary work had heaped up to chaotic proportions in the two years since Father O’Flynn’s arrest. There were Baptisms by the score, marriages to be blessed, instruction classes to be organized, and, most difficult of all, centres to be set up for the celebration of Mass.

GOVERNOR MACQUARIE

Although an officially accredited chaplain on a token salary of £100 a year, Father Therry soon ran foul of Governor Macquarie. The autocratic highlander had brought some semblance of order to the colony after the chaos of the rum traffic, but in laying down impossible conditions for the Catholic chaplains in celebrating Masses and Marriages, he had overstepped his authority. Father Therry could not and did not abide by them. Flying in the face of the Governor’s restrictions, he did celebrate Mass on other days besides Sundays and holidays; he did make converts, and he did not always give a month’s notice for prospective marriages.

But it was the religious education laws that Father Therry openly, and at times violently flouted. Macquarie had instructed him in 1820, “that you do not interfere with the religious education of orphans in the Government charitable institutions of this colony, they are to be instructed in the faith and doctrine of the Church of England.”

A Catholic sailor’s case was typical. He had begged Father Therry to baptize his child, dying in the public orphanage. Refused admission, the priest scaled the walls, baptized the child, and was surrounded by a swarm of Catholic children.

“Oh, Father Therry, we are Catholics, help us.” For nearly 20 years, Father Therry was to do battle for such souls in a war of wits against red tape that was lined with hostility.

CLERICAL FRICTION

A clash of personalities soon developed between the two pioneering priests. Father Connolly, easy going and compliant, must have found it hard to bear with his vigorous and outspoken colleague. It was decided that Father Therry should transfer to Van Diemen’s Land. Providence decreed otherwise. After ten days at sea, a southerly buster forced the ship to return to port. When it sailed again in 1821 it was Father Connolly who was aboard, leaving Father Therry the more extensive mission of New South Wales.

ST. MARY’S CATHEDRAL

Left alone on the mainland, Father Therry turned to his great dream. He had to build a Church on a scale that would match the startling growth of Sydney town. No petty wooden structure, no temporary chapel for him. Optimism was to be his architect and hope his builder. When influential Catholics, such as James Meehan, baulked at its size, Father Therry turned to Macquarie. Luckily the old Scot too had seen the vision splendid, and encouraged him in his project. The site was chosen. A more undesirable plot would have been hard to find, whether by design or accident, but it turned out to be the pick of Sydney sites in later years. James Meehan, the Catholic Deputy Surveyor, was the man who picked the site.

Help came from unexpected quarters. Had it not been for the interest and generosity of the more prosperous Protestant citizens, St. Mary’s would never have been started, let alone completed. John Campbell, the non-Catholic Provost Marshal, for example, not only headed a subscription list with £20 but acted as Treasurer of the Church appeal among Protestants. Many Catholics, in their poverty, could give only gifts in kind. Mr. John Ready agreed to give “a cow in calf as a subscription,” we read. Francis Greenway, the famous emancipist architect, was, it appears from a letter to Father Therry, responsible for the plans.

WEEDS IN THE WALLS

Governor Macquarie himself laid the foundation stone. The Governor wiped the trowel with his own handkerchief saying, “You must know, Mr. Therry, that, although I never laid the first stone of a Catholic church before, I am a very old Mason, and I shall keep this trowel as long as I live.” This genuine goodwill the Governor crowned with a gift of £21, but within the year he was to leave his office under the cloud of the Bigge report and under the needling of the “pure merino” squatters.

Even on board ship for England he did not forget Father Therry. He promised, on arrival, to win support for St. Mary’s from Earl Bathurst. Like Father Therry, Macquarie had been short on diplomacy but strong on principle. With him, at least, Father Therry knew where he stood, for the old soldier was a straight-shooter.

Work on the great church soon stopped. Weeds began to grow in the foundations and walls of St. Mary’s. When the Government refused to help, the Catholic pundits were very vocal. He had gone out of his depth; he had delusions of grandeur; his Bishop should step in.

With the clouds of failure gathering ominously, Father Therry proffered his resignation to Bishop Slater in Mauritius. Encouraged by fatherly advice “not to quit his chosen vineyard,” he did not think again of leaving his mission until his death.

FRIEND OF CONVICTS

It was easy to acquire the tag of “convict” in the early nineteenth century. This was particularly true in Catholic Ireland. The average farmer, working on poor soil for an absent landlord, would find an embargo placed on most goods he tried to sell. Blighted potato crops added to his poverty. He was expected to pay tithes to an Established Church he did not believe in, and then swallow the injustice of having no Catholic member to plead his cause in Parliament. And, all the time, there hung over his head the threat of eviction. Such penal laws led to a nation of either crushed men or “convicts.”

It was to these men in New South Wales, above all, that Father Therry’s care extended. His missionary activity among the convicts became a legend in the colony. The following incident is typical of his zeal. A message had reached him on a bush mission that a convict was dying in Sydney. A flooded river barred his path so that no horse born could ever make it. He called to the other bank “to help him cross in the Name of God and a departing soul.” A stone was thrown across tied to the end of a rope which he tied around his waist.

Willing hands dragged him through the flood to the other bank, where without changing his clothing he mounted a borrowed horse and brought the Sacraments to the dying man in the nick of time.

“I have heard that every day his gig was ready at the door to start for wheresoever he was required,” Dean Kenny tells us, with a seventy-mile trip taken as a matter of course.

SOCIAL JUSTICE

We cannot whitewash the character of all the convicts. Even to the most desperate cases, Father Therry was always God’s minister. He was, above all, a shepherd, and only secondarily interested in penal reform.

More than once he had to race the clock or the hangman to plead for a pardon or to bring the Sacraments. An outline is drawn for us in the Centennial Magazine of 1888.

At the back of the George Street prison the condemned man stood on the scaffold, awaiting his doom. Father Therry was convinced of the man’s innocence and ran to Sir Thomas Brisbane. The gloomy group waited, till the law at last was about to take its course. Just then Father Therry was seen issuing from the gate of Government House waving his hat and holding up the reprieve.

Other cases were not so dramatic. A letter, abridged, from Sydney Gaol in 1826 speaks for itself.

“Reverend,

Sir, Wee Poor unfortunate Men under the sentence of death is very anxous for you. I Saml Cliff that is under Sentence of death Concerning the Murder of the Black Native I am resolved to embrace the Roman C

Faith As soon as you Come to Me.”

Of the inhuman Transportation system and outmoded Penal Code, Father Therry was well aware. He had to be content, under pressure of work, with the direct apostolate to souls, with an occasional plea for the mitigation of sentences, and leave to later priests, such as Bishop Willson and Dr. Ullathorne, measures for direct social action and official penal reform.

GOVERNOR BRISBANE’S HELP

There was a time of comparative peace for the church under Governor Brisbane. Not only did he give £200 to swell St. Mary’s funds, but he seconded Father Therry’s plea for more priests to be sent to Australia from England. Two Catholic schools were up and Father Therry had others in mind. It was, however, the calm before the storm.

GOVERNOR DARLING’S ATTITUDE

The new Governor, Governor Darling, arrived in 1825. Then out of the blue came the Church Lands Charter. By it, the Church of England was to receive one-seventh of the lands in each county of the colony. Nearly half a million acres went to the Established Church, setting up “clergy reserves” similar to those in Upper Canada of the time.

Now the official screws tightened. A bigoted triumvirate in Governor Darling, Colonial Secretary McLeay and Archdeacon Scott, almost ruined the early inter-Church harmony. They drew a tighter ring around all Orphanages and public institutions in an endeavour to keep Father Therry out. To add to the tension, his letter to the Gazette, in which he stated his intention to establish a Catholic cemetery and a Catholic Education Fund, was printed incorrectly. It was misconstrued to read as an insult to the Established clergy. As a result, his meagre salary was suspended, and he was deprived of his official status as Catholic chaplain.

HELL BARS THE WAY

Father Therry’s next twelve years as a minister of religion were unrecognized and unpaid by the Government. He was doing the work of seven chaplains without a penny allowance, while Arch-deacon Scott was receiving a thumping £,2,000 a year in a chair-ride chaplaincy. Prison gates and hospital doors were slammed in the priest’s face, yet he went on. He was not the man to let anyone stand between a departing soul and the Sacraments.

The stories of this period are legion. On one occasion a guard’s bayonet blocked his way to the hospital. Father Therry brushed the bayonet aside.

“I come not in the name of the Governor but in the Name of God.”

When another hospital guard refused him entry, he demanded to speak to the assistant surgeon. There was just enough time for the priest to enter and hear the patient’s confession before the guard returned to tell him that his request had been refused!

Public opinion, Protestant as much as Catholic, was mounting in his favour. The injustice to a dedicated clergyman was all too clear. Redress was so long in coming that another man would have abandoned the field, but fortunately for the history of the Australian Church, Father Therry was made of sterner stuff.

A FRESHER CLIMATE

With Catholic Emancipation in 1829, a fresh breeze blew throughout the English-speaking world. Its effects were soon felt in the colony. Catholics could at last fill positions of authority. Roger Therry came out first as Commissioner of The Court of Requests; then John Hubert Plunkett, the Solicitor General of the Colony, followed. Both were to prove pillars of the Church in the colony. In the new Governor, Sir Richard Bourke, too, Catholics were to find one who would at last give them a “fair go”

Then again the load on Father Therry’s shoulders was eased a little with the arrival of three more priests. Unfortunately his independent character estranged him from two of them, but the third, Father John McEnroe, was to remain his life-long friend.

THE BENEDICTINE PERIOD

Most of the spadework was already done when a new era—the Benedictine era—began. Its forerunner was the newly-appointed Vicar General, Father Ullathorne. His immediate task was to smooth out the crisis that had arisen with the Governor over the ownership of St. Mary’s land. Father Therry had neglected to obtain title deeds. This task Father Ullathorne completed in a masterly way, being a born diplomat. The Benedictine’s task was one of consolidation. His first impressions of Father Therry were not favourable, but later he was to change his opinion. He wrote of Father Therry as “a truly religious man who rests neither day nor night.” But the youthful Vicar General often forgot, especially in moments of success, that he was reaping where another man had sown.

No one had a greater hold on Father Therry than the new Benedictine Bishop, John Bede Polding. From his arrival in 1831 he handled the rather thorny missioner with an admirable blend of kindness and severity. His transparent goodness won Father Therry’s heart. It was a winning move to grant Father Therry, from church funds, a salary equivalent to the government salary for chaplains.

In the meantime Father Therry was appointed parish priest of Campbelltown. It says much for the gigantic humility of the man that he threw himself into his new task with enthusiasm. As Archbishop Eris O’Brien, in his monumental “Life of Archpriest J. J. Therry,” comments, “The one-time priest of the parish of New South Wales was made parish priest of a little country district.” In 1838 he was sent to Van Diemen’s Land.

FATHER THERRY’S FAMILY

What of Father Therry’s family ties? When he left his native Ireland, it would seem that he cut them all asunder. Not really. When his good parents struck bad times, Father Therry sent them money he could ill-afford in the early years. A nun writing to him from Cork in 1826 complains that “your silence occasions your family much uneasiness.” They could not guess at the extent of his labours.

His father died in 1827 and his mother in 1833. On the day after hearing the news he wrote, “I can no longer cherish the fond hope I had for many years of seeing once more my native land, as the principal inducement I had to visit it no longer exists; my dearest Mother is no more. Requiescat in pace.” The silent strength and heartfelt feeling are apparent. In his last will and testament his brothers and sister were to receive during life £ 100 per annum each.

A MAN OF GOD

All observers, both friendly and unfriendly, agree on his genuine piety. We can build a composite picture from various testimonies. “He was truly religious, never omitting to say Mass daily even in difficult circumstances. He said the Rosary in public every evening, gathering as many people as he could.” Or again, “he sat with his breviary in the right hand, and his left in and out of his pocket for alms.” He was the “most faultless human character” a Protestant clergyman had ever met. “I was baptized by Father Therry,” was the highest boast of pioneer Catholics for years, and the people had already canonized him in their minds. “Had he not been a holy priest,” Archbishop O’Brien concludes, “his work would not have been so blessed by Divine assistance.” He moved and breathed in an atmosphere of prayer, as the Irish monks of old.

There was a lot of clay, however, in the idol’s feet, for no man is perfect. Some future Devil’s Advocate could well make capital out of Father Therry’s obstinacy, his reluctance to hand over the title deeds of Church land, his tendency to cut corners off Canon Law, and his obsession in later years with financial investments. Over all his faults though, was the cloak of all-embracing charity.

“To make enquiries into the character of this man I would go to the house of mourning and to the public hospitals. I would ask the widow and the orphan where they found friendship and charity.” This contemporary character sketch of Father Therry could well out-live all his documented faults.

TROUBLES IN TASMANIA

In Van Diemen’s Land, Father Therry had to fight all the old battles on new soil. The exhausting trips to the bush, the clash with gaol and orphanage authorities over rights of conscience, the bickering with fellow clergy—all these he had known in his Sydney days. As Vicar General for a short time, he had a free hand and turned it to erecting St. Joseph’s Church in Hobart. In a year or two, however, Van Diemen’s Land was to become a separate diocese with a new Bishop, Robert Willson.

Bishop Willson and Father Therry were the two parties in a dispute that threatened to put a crack in the foundations of the Church in Australia. It was as serious as that, and as complex. To try to put it as simply as follows is a risk, but space compels it.

On arrival Bishop Willson, quite justly, asked for the title deeds of St. Joseph’s Church and lands. Father Therry, quite justly, requested that the Bishop take over the debts from himself and the trustees. Neither would yield. Both characters were cut from the same flint rock. Even though the final decision, as well as public opinion, was on Father Therry’s side, it is not the prettiest page in his life. For once his greatness of soul deserted him.

His priestly duties were restricted. A fellow priest remembers how Father Therry, not permitted to celebrate Mass, would kneel at Mass, morning after morning, in a hidden corner of St. Joseph’s Church he had built, and how the smaller children would flock to kneel by the old pioneer priest whom they had learnt to love. After two years of this, he was transferred to Melbourne.

FINAL YEARS

Time had taken its toll. An oil painting of Father Therry done towards the end of his life shows the changes time had worked. The weatherbeaten features, etched and lined from long hours in the saddle or the gig, had taken on the rugged look of an outcrop of granite. The manly mouth, always firm, had become under stress firmer still. Yet there is not a trace of bitterness in that countenance. The eyes are serene and benign as of one who possessed his soul patience. It is hard to recognize the young priest who had chased the convict wagon over the cobblestones of Cork some forty-five years before, but he had kept his promise to follow them to the ends of the earth to save their souls.

After a brief stay in Melbourne as parish priest, Father Therry acted as a “freelance missionary” in New South Wales. Then came his final appointment as parish priest of Balmain. There could be no twilight retirement for such an apostolic man.

Under his prayer and guidance, St. Augustine’s was a living parish. For a priest in his seventieth year, his official programme was more than a full one: programme Rev. J. J. Therry, Arch-Priest. On Sundays Mass at 9.00 and 11.00 with instruction at each. Catechetical instruction at 3.00. Evening services with Benediction and Sermon at 7.00. On weekdays Mass at 7.00. Rosary every evening at 7.00 and on Friday with Benediction. Confessions are heard on Friday and Saturday evenings and Sunday mornings and whenever persons present themselves.”

His name lived on in Balmain. His former altar-boys would delight, in later years, narrating how they had provoked the good-natured old lion to a growl or even to a cuff in the ear for tardiness in changing the book, or for some misdemeanour in the sacristy; or again how they had regularly received a payment of sixpence a week from parish funds. Carrying laundry baskets for old women in public, keeping an open account at the storekeeper’s for all the district’s poor, surrounded by a troop of swarming children in the main street—these were the “lasting graffiti” chalked on the walls of memory in the Balmain parish concerning their homely hero.

In the evening of his life Father Therry was raised to the dignity of an Arch-Priest. Again it speaks volumes for his simplicity that he was delighted, almost as a schoolboy, with this recognition of his life’s work. In gratitude he gave £2,000 to Archbishop Polding for St. Mary’s. Twelve months after his death, his beloved Cathedral was to be reduced to ashes by fire.

DEATH OF FATHER THERRY

The Cathedral of Our Lady, Help of Christians, had been his life’s inspiration. Our Lady’s feast on May 24th had been instituted in the year of his ordination in 1815. This title, at his suggestion, had been chosen first as that of the colony’s Mother Church, and later, again at his suggestion, as the Patronal title of Australasia. Both he and Archdeacon McEnroe used the title frequently. It symbolized his whole life—Mary defending and extending the rights of the Church in history because this mission had been confided to her at the foot of the Cross: Mary, Help of the Christian Church.

Now it was May 24th, 1864. He would honour the Mother of the Church by founding a branch of the Guild of St. Mary and St. Joseph at Balmain. Then “I will die content,” he remarked. He remained at the Guild meeting until 10 o’clock that night, when he retired to bed.

About midnight he woke suddenly to find that the burden of his years had caught up with him at last. He complained of the cold. “Send for Arch-deacon McEnroe,” he said, “tell him that I am 73 years old.” Before his friend could come, and while the bystanders recited the prayers for the dying, John Joseph Therry gave up his soul to God.

FATHER THERRY’S LEGACY

He was buried in the old Sydney cemetery with the entire city in mourning. In 1901 his remains were removed to the crypt of the new St. Mary’s. A memorial, in the shape of the Altar in Our Lady’s Chapel, had already been erected by Archbishop Vaughan, but Archbishop O’Brien has reminded us that a greater memorial is the Australian Church itself.

This we cannot measure in bricks and mortar or in statistics, however impressive. The Church in any country carries the indelible impress of its pioneer’s character for centuries. Our outspoken Catholic press, our laymen keenly aware of Catholic action, our taste for fine churches, a respected Catholic nucleus on academic staffs, and above all an influential voice in demanding Christian principles and justice in social life, especially in education, are all part of the legacy left us by Father Therry.

In a more express way his name is perpetuated in Australia. The Therry Society is keeping its twenty-first year in 1964. It is fitting that such celebrations, by coincidence, should be in Father Therry’s Centenary Year.

When George Walton and his associates found inspiration for founding their Catholic Dramatic Society in Father Therry’s name, they must have been looking even beyond the Irish dramatic instinct and flair for impression in Father Therry’s character. Could it have been his vision, his vigour, his zeal? or his touch of genius in being able to present vital truths so limpidly to as wide an audience as possible? or was it just the plain humanity of the man they admired? At all events, the title was well chosen, and Father Therry would be more than content to lend his name to such a dedicated and artistic group in the Church here.

AN ESTIMATE

The infant Church in Australia was something of a child prodigy. While the ancient Church in England was still reticent behind the manor gates of country Catholics at the start of the nineteenth century, and while the older Church in Italy and France was fighting to survive against the secular wing of Liberalism, the new Catholics here were blithely erecting a fine Cathedral and their own schools, waiting to welcome their first Bishop, and holding public meetings that vigorously denounced any shadow of discrimination against them. On the whole, with notable exceptions, they were well received into the community.

This phenomenal rate of growth to a respected stature, if not to maturity, cannot be ascribed simply to Father Therry’s endeavours. It may have been due partly to the unformed shape of religious and social affairs in the colony.

Under the southern cross Father Therry had found no unchanging laws of social tradition that had ruled the older world. As a consequence, there had been no time for any Established Church to put down its roots, despite copious government irrigation, and this more liberal atmosphere had allowed the Catholic Church to develop openly, with a far-reaching influence on every aspect of social and intellectual life. Father Therry, it was though, who first sensed a change of wind. An appeal to the democratic instinct of governor and people, not to statutes, always followed upon any restrictive attempts on the Church.

Catholic history and Australian history, as a result, did not proceed along different paths but merged. So we find Caroline Chisholm’s work for migrant girls took on a more Christian form than that of the contemporary humanitarians in England; it was not as revolutionaries but as defenders of social justice that Catholic leaders in Lalor and Rafaello took up arms at Bakery Hill; it was Cardinal Moran the striking seamen and wharf labourers cheered as they marched in Sydney in 1890. The coming of Federation, the formation of the Commonwealth Bank and the Australian Labour Party found Catholic leaders to the fore.

Despite this, studies in recent years have pointed the finger at Father Therry and his successors. Most criticism runs along these lines . . . The early settlers isolated themselves in “Catholic ghettos,” under the thumb of the Irish clergy, where they adopted a hostile attitude to others—now aggressive, now defensive—while they nourished their faith on a saccharine diet of sentimental practices, and not on solid liturgy. Let us look at historical facts.

We have just seen how educated Catholic laymen, on their own initiative, rubbed shoulders with everyone in a pluralistic society. If at times unwanted friction did occur, they never for a moment withdrew from the thoroughfare of public affairs. To label them as isolationists, or to see a chip on their shoulders, is both unfair and unjustified. Reflect, for a moment, on Europe of the time.

The charge has been levelled at Father Therry and at his fellow Irish clergy, again, that they marred the purity of Catholic worship at an early stage in this country by introducing a multiplicity of devotions. Again history speaks. If anything looms large out of the early years, it is the towering monolithic structure of the Faith they established here. There was no trace of splintering or fragmentation in that solid rock of Catholic doctrine and devotion. Let us look at it in the light of those times, if we wish to be fair.

The liturgy Father Therry loved. The Mass was his life. His sermon notes abound in Scripture quotations. Even the most liturgically-minded parish priest of today would be envious to know that Father Therry regularly held the Holy Week Ceremonies in all solemnity, Tenebrae included, to overflow congregations, and that at the children’s Mass congregational singing was a feature. No liturgical purist, on reading of Father Therry’s well-integrated Marian devotion—with the Rosary to the fore—can forget that our pioneers were being no less orthodox than the first Christians who waited for the Church’s development “in prayer with Mary, the mother of Jesus,” the Mother of the Church (Acts I, 14).

If today too the Church in Australia has a better public-image in a less emotional climate—with more dialogue and less polemic—then let us spare a thought, at least, for Father Therry and those with him who cleared the air. That an Australian clergy, native-born and native-trained, should eventually have brought a new spirit to the Church in this country was not only understandable but desirable. But the smoother, centralized efficiency of today should not blind us to the rough-hewn, apostolic foundations of yesterday. “Had there never been a priest here,” Governor Brisbane wrote grudgingly of our pioneer “perhaps the Roman Catholic worship might have dwindled away.”

A FINAL WORD

Let Archbishop Polding have the final word on Father Therry. “He has made a good name with the Government; he has raised a zeal among the people; he has pioneered, roughly it is true, but still effectually.”—So effectually, that his work prospers today, a century after his death.

PRAYER FOR THE CONVERSION OF AUSTRALIA

O God, Who has appointed Mary, Help of Christians; St. Francis Xavier, and St. Teresa of the Infant Jesus Patrons of Australia, grant that, through their intercession, our brethren outside the Church may receive the light of faith, so that Australia may become one in faith under one shepherd, through Christ our Lord. Amen.

Mary, Help of Christians, pray for us.

St. Francis Xavier, pray for us.

St. Teresa of the Infant Jesus, pray for us.

********

Fatima And Five Saturdays

HEED A MOTHER’S REQUEST. REAP THE REWARD OF A MOTHER’S PROMISE

BY REV. F. P. O’SHEA, C.SS.R

INDEX

PREFACE BY REV. W. FREAN, C.SS.R

Our Blessed Lady said to Lucy at Fatima, “I promise to help at the hour of death with the graces needed for salvation, whoever, on the First Saturday of Five Consecutive Months, shall confess and receive Holy Communion, recite Five Decades of the Rosary, and keep me company for fifteen minutes while meditating on the Mysteries of the Rosary with the intention of making reparation to me.”

Father O”Shea wants to h elp all those who are desirous of complying with this request of our dear Mother, Mary-and this, of course, should mean-every good Catholic.

Though his little book opens with a short account of the marvels which have caused the eyes of the world to turn with wonder and with hope to the mountain village of Fatima, its one object is to help you to make the Five Saturdays as Our Lady wants you to make them. Use it and you will find Father O”Shea’s method easy, practical and fruitful.

THIS little book is written to spread the Message of Fatima, to help you to make your First Five Saturdays well. No doubt you know well the story of Fatima. On Saturday, May 13th., 1917, a beautiful Lady appeared to three little children, Lucia, Francisco, and Jacinta, in Portugal, at a place known as the Cova da Iria, about 60 miles north of Lisbon, and asked them to come to the same place on the 13th of each month until October, when She would tell them who She was. The Lady then told them to say the Rosary well.

The news of this apparition spread through Fatima but many of the villagers did not believe their story and the children suffered much because of this unbelief. Nevertheless many of the people accompanied the little shepherds on the first Saturday of June when the Lady again appeared.

On the 13thof July the Lady appeared again, and at Lucy’s request that She should work a miracle, promised a great miracle on the 13th of October. During this apparition the Lady foretold the end of the War. Then She warned them: “I come to ask the consecration of Russia to my Immaculate Heart and the Communion of Reparation on the first Saturdays. If they heed my requests, Russia will be converted and there will be peace. If not, she will spread her errors throughout the world, causing wars and persecutions of the Church. The good will be martyred, the Holy Father will have much to suffer, various nations will be wiped out.”

The secular press, dominated by a godless and revolutionary government, began a violent persecution of the children by stirring up a campaign of slander and contempt against them.

When 15,000 Catholics gathered at the Cova on August 15th they were filled with anger and disappointment to find that the children had been kidnapped by the anticlerical mayor of Ourem.

On the 13th of September, 30,000 people gathered at the Cova and the Lady again appeared to the three children. Many of the people saw a luminous globe coming from the East. A chance visitor to Fatima, the Vice-Consul of the United States, was able to photograph an extraordinary phenomenon. What appeared to be snowflakes or rose petals fell from the sky in great quantities, disappearing before they reached the earth,

On the 13th of October, despite heavy and incessant rain, an enormous crowd of over 70,000 people assembled from all parts of Portugal and from other parts of Europe. When the Lady appeared Lucy asked; “Who are you, and what do you seek?” The Lady replied: “I am the Lady of the Rosary and I have come to warn the faithful to amend their lives and to repent of their sins. They must cease to offend Our Lord Who is already so much offended. They are to say the Rosary!”

Then in the presence of that vast crowd Our Lady worked the great miracle that She had promised in July. It is thus described by eyewitnesses: “The sun began to tremble, shook and turned giddily on itself like a wheel of fire, casting great beams of light in all directions. The beams were in turn, green, red, blue, violet etc., and held the crowd breathless. It stopped and then began again, and yet again. Next the sun left its place in the heavens and falling from side to side, plunged zig-zagging upon the crowd below, sending out intense heat, and giving the impression of the end of the world as foretold in the Gospels. When it seemed that collision with the earth was inevitable the sun stopped its fall and climbed back to its place. To add to the amazement of the crowd their sodden clothing suddenly became dry and warm just as though it had not been saturated with the torrential rain of the preceding twenty four hours.”

The evidence of this great miracle is irrefutable. Thousands of people of all classes witnessed the event-unbelievers and sceptics were convinced, The anticlerical newspaper, “O Seculo,” changed its antagonistic and sceptical attitude overnight. The usual theory of mass-hypnotism could not explain the phenomenon since reliable witnesses many miles away, saw the event. The only answer that the enemies of the Church have is to shut their eyes to the facts and say in effect, “It could not happen, miracles cannot happen, therefore it did not happen,”

The real significance of Fatima is this. Our Lady appeared to a world that is fast becoming corrupt and Godless, a world in which Satan, using the forces of atheistic Communism, is striving to turn men from Christ to Antichrist, to drag men’s souls to hell. Mary’s purpose is to make men turn back to God and His Church, to make them lead good lives by making reparation for sin, by prayer and penance. Mary, herself, gave men the means to do this in the remarkable words recorded by Lucy. It was during one of the apparitions in which She had showed the children a terrible vision of hell.

“You have just seen hell,” said the Mother of God, “where will end the souls of poor sinners. To save them the Lord wishes to establish in the world the devotion to My Immaculate Heart. If what I tell you is done, many souls shall be saved and there will be peace.

“The war will end; but if men do not cease to offend the Lord, not much time will elapse before another and more terrible one will commence: It will occur during the next Pontificate. When a night illuminated by an unknown light is seen, know that it is the signal which God gives you that the castigation of the world for its many transgressions is at hand, through war, famine, and persecutions of the Church and the Holy Father. To prevent this I ask the consecration of the world to My Immaculate Heart, and Communion of Reparation on the First Saturday of each month.

“If My requests are heard, Russia will be converted and there will be peace.

Otherwise great errors will be spread throughout the world, giving rise to wars and persecutions of the Church: The good will suffer martyrdom, and the Holy Father will have to suffer much; different nations will be destroyed; but in the end, My Immaculate Heart will triumph.

“The Holy Father will consecrate Russia to me. It will be converted, and an era of peace will be conceded to humanity.”

It is 37 years since these events took place and still the message of Fatima is for the most part, unheeded. Much good has been done, but much has been left undone. Dear reader make it your business to spread devotion to the Immaculate Heart of Mary: Make the Five First Saturdays fervently yourself: If you have already made them, make them again for those tepid Catholics who, not realizing the terrible alternative, have not the generosity to heed Our Lady’s requests.

You can be an Apostle of Our Lady by spreading the message of Fatima. Give this little book to your friends; ask them to use it and make the Five First Saturdays properly.

HOW TO MAKE THE FIVE FIRST SATURDAYS

What must we do to make the Five First Saturdays? Our Lady Herself tells us in those words recorded for us by Lucy. “My child, behold My Heart surrounded with the thorns which ungrateful men place therein at every moment, by their blasphemies and ingratitude. You, at least, try to console me and tell them that I promise to help at the hour of death with the graces needed for salvation, whoever, on the First Saturday of Five consecutive months, shall confess and receive Holy Communion, recite five decades of the Rosary and keep me company for fifteen minutes while meditating on the mysteries of the Rosary, with the intention of making reparation to me.”

Therefore, to make the Five First Saturdays we must, on the First Saturday of five consecutive months:-.

1. Go to Confession and Communion.

2. Say five decades of the Rosary.

3. Keep Mary company for 15 minutes whilst meditating on the mysteries of the Rosary.

4. Do all this with the intention of making reparation to Our Lady.

NOTE: The confession may be made within a week, before or after, the Communion. Your First Friday confession would suffice.

YOUR FIRST SATURDAY ROSARY

The Rosary of five decades may be said at any time of the day. You may say the decades one at a time. For example, you might say one decade in the morning, another at lunch time, another after supper and the remaining two before you go to bed,

“In saying the Rosary it is well for us to remember that the meditation on the mysteries is an essential part of it. For the meditations on the various mysteries (see pages 5–9) which deal with the First Saturday meditation.”

It has become customary to say after each decade, after the “Glory be to the Father etc.,” the short prayer prescribed by Our Lady at Fatima,”O My Jesus, forgive us our sins, save us from the fire of hell, bring all souls to heaven, especially those most in need of Thy mercy.”

When you have said the five decades say the “Hail Holy Queen” for the grace to persevere in a good life until death. Then “Pray for us O Holy Mother of God, that we may be made worthy of the promises of Christ.” Then say, “Let us pray, O God Whose only Begotten Son, by His life, death, and resurrection hath purchased for us the rewards of eternal life, grant, we beseech Thee, that meditating on the mysteries of the most holy Rosary of the Blessed Virgin Mary, we may imitate what they contain and obtain what they promise, through the same Christ Our Lord. Amen.”

YOUR FIRST SATURDAY MEDITATION

“Keep me company for fifteen minutes while meditating on the mysteries of the Rosary.” (Our Lady of Fatima)

The First Saturday Meditation of fifteen minutes may be made any time during the day. You may meditate on one mystery or on all the mysteries. To hear a sermon on the mysteries of the Rosary would suffice for your meditation.

It is permissible to combine your Rosary and meditation. To do this you could say your Rosary as usual and after each decade spend three minutes in prayerfully thinking over some mystery or mysteries of the Rosary.

THE NECESSITY OF MEDITATION

“With desolation is all the land made desolate, because there is none that considereth in the heart,” says the Holy Ghost. That is the cause of all the unhappiness in the world today. People do not give themselves time to think upon the things of eternity, upon the things of God, upon death and judgment, heaven and hell.

Meditation (or thinking about our salvation) in some form or another is necessary for everyone who wishes to save his soul. A person who does not meditate is like one who goes on a journey without light or strength. Resolve then to put aside a few minutes every day to read some good religious book and think about the great work of your salvation. Then you will learn how to know and love and serve God in this life and to see and enjoy Him forever in Heaven. What is a practical method of meditation? St. Alphonsus, the Doctor of Prayer, gives us a simple method of meditation.

1. Ask God to help you to make your meditation well, saying a short prayer to the Holy Ghost.

2. Remember that you are always in the presence of God. He is with you now as you pray, knowing your most secret thoughts and actions.

3. Make the preparatory acts:

“My God, I believe that Thou art truly present to me, I should now be in hell on account of my sins. Do not send me to hell for there I could not love Thee. Mary, my Mother help me to make this meditation well.”

4. Read about the mysteries of the Rosary upon which you are going to meditate. When you have read it once, read it again more slowly until you have absorbed its meaning, or until some point appeals to you: Then ask yourself the following questions:

(a) What have I read?

(b) What lesson is contained in this mystery? What virtues are practised by Our Divine Saviour? By Our Blessed Lady?

(c) What have I done in the past in this matter? What must I do for the future?

Then, thinking upon what you have read, make acts of Faith, Hope, Love, Contrition, Humility, and Resignation to the Will of God. When you have made these acts, renew your resolution to practise the virtue upon which you have been meditating. For example I will make many pacts of love during the day. “Mary help me to keep this resolution.” You will find that meditation will not be a burden, but a source of charm and pleasure, a means of making your life holy and very happy.

MEDITATIONS ON THE MYSTERIES OF THE ROSARY

FIRST MEDITATION. THE ANNUNCIATION

“In the sixth month, the angel Gabriel was sent from God into a city of Galilee, called Nazareth, to a virgin espoused to a man whose name was Joseph, of the house of David; and the virgin’s name was Mary.

“And the angel being come in, said unto her: “Fear not Mary, for thou hast found grace with God. Behold thou shalt conceive in thy womb and shalt bring forth a Son and thou shalt call His name Jesus. He shall be great and shall be called the Son of the Most High. And the Lord God shall give unto Him the throne of David His father: and He shall reign in the house of Jacob forever. And of His kingdom there shall be no end.”

“And Mary said to the angel: “How shall this be done, because I know not man?” And the angel answering said to her: “The Holy Ghost shall come upon thee and the power of the Most High shall over-shadow thee. And therefore also the Holy Which shall be born of thee shall be called the San of God.” And Mary said: “Behold the handmaid of the Lord: be it done to me according to thy word.””

HOW TO MEDITATE ON THIS MYSTERY AND THOSE THAT FOLLOW SAY THE INTRODUCTORY PRAYERS AS ON PAGE 3

Read the passage on the Annunciation as above. When you have read it once read it again more slowly. Then ask yourself the following questions:

What have I read? I have read of God’s love for men, and for me personally. To save my soul from the terrible effects of sin He left His starry Heaven and became a child on earth-became one of us-that He might take our sins upon Himself by a life of most bitter suffering, and by a terrible death on the Cross. I must try to realize the tremendous importance of the Incarnation. God became man, because He loved me.

WHAT IS THE LESSON CONTAINED IN THIS MYSTERY?

In this mystery we see God’s great love for men, and Mary’s love for God and men. Our Blessed Lady loved God so much that she merited to become His Mother, to co-operate with Her Son in the Redemption of mankind. I must learn to love God as Mary loved Him-especially by resolving never to sin again, by avoiding the dangers of sin.

WHAT HAVE I DONE IN THE PAST?

I have so often sinned against the love of God by my venial sins. Perhaps I have even driven Him from my heart by mortal sin. I have certainly been cold in my love for Jesus Christ Why has loved me so much.

WHAT MUST I DO IN THE FUTURE?

I will grow more and more to love God each day. I will never again offend Him by sin. I will tell Him frequently during the day that I love Him: “Lord Thou knowest all things-Thou knowest that I love Thee.”

THEN MAKE THE FOLLOWING ACTS OF

Faith : My Jesus I believe that You became man out of love for me. I believe all that the Holy Church believes and teaches because You have said it and Your word is true, I believe Lord, help Thou my unbelief.

Hope: Sacred Heart of Jesus I place my trust in Thee.

Love: My Jesus because of my sins You became man, You were born in a cold stable at Bethlehem and suffered all the days of Your life. My Jesus I love Thee.

Humility: For my sake dear Jesus You became despised and the most abject of men. Jesus meek and humble of heart, make my heart like unto Thine.

Resignation to the Will of God: For love of me my Jesus You were resigned to the Will of God even to death. Teach me O Lord to do Thy Will for Thou art my God. Lord, always Thy Will be done.

(Repeat these little aspirations over and over-they are very pleasing to Our Lord, being as it were, darts of love that wound the Heart of Christ with wounds of love.)

When you have made these acts renew your resolution and ask Our Blessed Lady to help you to be faithful to it. Let your resolution be small but make sure you keep it. For example, during the day I will frequently tell God that I love Him: “My God I love You.” Ask Jesus and Mary to help you to keep your resolution: “Jesus and Mary help me to keep this resolution.”

Next say the “Hail Holy Queen” for the grace to lead a good life and to be always faithful in loving and serving God.

SECOND MEDITATION. THE VISITATION

“And Mary rising up in those days, went into the hill country with haste into a city of Juda. And she entered into the house of Zachary and saluted Elizabeth. And it came to pass that when Elizabeth heard the salutation of Mary, the Infant leaped in her womb. And Elizabeth was filled with the Holy Ghost. And she cried out with a loud voice and said: “Blessed art thou among women and blessed is the fruit of thy womb. And whence is this to me that the mother of my Lord should come to me? For behold as soon as the voice of thy salutation sounded in my ears the infant in my womb leaped for joy. And blessed art thou that hast believed because the things shall be accomplished that were spoken to thee by the Lord.”

“And Mary said: “My soul doth magnify the Lord. And my spirit h ath rejoiced in God my Saviour. Because he hath regarded the humility of His handmaid: for behold from henceforth all generations shall call me blessed. Because He that is mighty hath done great things to me: and holy is His Name.””

Fruitful Reflections: Humility, Charity, Devotion to Mary.

THIRD MEDITATIONS. THE NATIVITY

“It came to pass that in those days there went out a decree from Caesar Augustus that the whole world should be enrolled. And all went to be enrolled, everyone into his own city. And Joseph also went up from Galilee, out of the city of Nazareth, into Judea, to the city of David, which is called Bethlehem: because he was of the house and family of David, to be enrolled with Mary his espoused wife, who was with child, And it came to pass that when they were there, her days were accomplished that she should be delivered. And she brought forth her first-born son and wrapped Him up in swaddling clothes and laid Him in a manger: because there was no room for them in the inn.

“And there were in the same country shepherds watching and keeping the night -watches over their flock. And behold, an angel of the Lord stood by them and the brightness of God shone around about them: and they feared with great fear.

“And the angel said to them: “Fear not: for, behold I bring you good tidings of great joy that shall be to all the people: For this day is born to you a Saviour, Who is Christ the Lord, in the city of David, And this shall be a sign unto you. You shall find the Infant wrapped in swaddling clothes and laid in a manger.”

“And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly army, praising God and saying: “Glory to God in the highest: and on earth peace to men of goodwill.””

“And it came to pass, after the angels departed from them into heaven, the shepherds said to one to another: “Let us go over to Bethlehem and let us see this word that is come to pass, which the Lord hath showed to us.” And they came with haste: and they found Mary and Joseph, and the Infant lying in the manger.””

Fruitful Reflections: Faith, Love of God, Obedience, Horror of sin.

Fourth Meditation. The Presentation of the Child Jesus in the Temple. “After the days of the Purification, according to the law of Moses were accomplished they carried Him to Jerusalem, to present Him to the Lord. And behold there was a man in Jerusalem named Simeon: and this man was just and devout, waiting for the consolation of Israel. And the Holy Ghost was in him. And he received an answer from the holy Ghost, that he should not see death before he had seen the Christ of the Lord. And he came by the Spirit into the temple. And when His parents brought in the Child Jesus, to do for Him according to the custom of the law, he also took Him into His arms end blessed God and said: “Now thou dost dismiss thy servant, O Lord, according to thy word in peace: Because my eyes have seen thy salvation, which thou hast prepared before the face of all peoples: a light to the revelation of the gentiles and the glory of thy people Israel.” And His father and mother were wondering at those things which were spoken concerning Him.”

Fruitful Reflections: Obedience to authority, The Will of God, Happiness in suffering,

FIFTH MEDITATION. THE FINDING OF THE CHILD JESUS IN THE TEMPLE

“And His parents went every year to Jerusalem, at the solemn day of the pasch. And when He was twelve years old, they going up into Jerusalem, according to the custom of the feast and having fulfilled the days, when they returned, the Child Jesus remained in Jerusalem. And His parents knew it not. And thinking He was in the company they came a day’s journey and sought Him among their kinsfolk and acquaintances. And not finding Him they returned to Jerusalem seeking Him.

“And it came to pass that after three days, they found Him in the temple, sitting in the midst of doctors, hearing them and asking them questions. And all that heard Him were astonished at His wisdom and His answers.

“And seeing Him they wondered. And His Mother said to Him: “Son why hast Thou done so to us? Behold thy father and I have sought Thee sorrowing?” And He said to them: “How is it that you sought Me? Did you not know that I must be about My Father’s business?”

“And they understood not the word that He spoke unto them. And He went down with them and came to Nazareth and was subject to them. And His Mother kept all these words in her heart. And Jesus advanced in wisdom and age and grace with God and man.”

Fruitful Reflections. Obedience to parents and those in authority, Zeal for the salvation of souls, Following one’s vo- cation, Love of parents, Love of one’s children,

THE SORROWFUL MYSTERIES

FIRST MEDITATION. THE AGONY OF OUR LORD IN THE GARDEN

“It was night. Then Jesus came with them into a country -place which is called Gethsemani. And He said to His disciples: “Sit you here, till I go yonder and pray.” And He taketh Peter and James and John with Him; and He began to fear and to be heavy. Then He said to them: “My soul is sorrowful even unto death. Stay you here and watch with Me.” And going a little further, He fell upon His face saying: “My Father, if it be possible, let this chalice pass from Me. Nevertheless, not as I will but as Thou wilt.” And He cometh to His disciples and findeth them asleep. And He said to Peter: “What? Could you not watch one hour with Me? Watch ye: and pray that ye enter not into temptation. The spirit indeed is willing but the flesh weak.”

“Again He went and prayed saying: “My Father, if this chalice may not pass away, but I must drink it, thy will be done.” And there appeared to Him an angel from heaven, strengthening Him. And being in an agony, He prayed the longer. And His sweat became as drops of blood, trickling down upon the ground.”

Fruitful Reflection. Necessity of prayer in temptation. The malice of sin. Doing the will of God.

SECOND MEDITATION. THE SCOURGING AT THE PILLAR

“And Pilate calling together the chief priests, and the magistrates and the people, said to them: “You have presented unto me this Man, as one that perverteth the people, and behold I having examined Him before you find no cause in this Man in those things wherein you accuse Him. No, neither Herod. For I sent you to him, and behold nothing worthy of death has been done by Him. I will chastise Him therefore and release Him.”

“The Holy Shroud of Turin shows that the whole Body of Our Divine Saviour, front and back, was scourged with a whip made of flexible thongs to which were attached metal balls. The Face, Hands and Feet were the only parts spared.

“We read that strong men sometimes died under a Roman scourging and we can easily understand why Pilate should have hoped to move the rabble to pity when he led Christ out on to the balcony after the scourging and cried out, “Behold the Man!” “

Fruitful Reflections-. Love of the Suffering Christ, Hatred for sin, Reparation for sin, Penance.

THIRD MEDITATION. THE CROWNING WITH THORNS

“And the soldiers of the governor taking Jesus, led Him away into the court of the palace and they call together unto Him the whole band. And stripping Him, they put a scarlet cloak about Him. And plaiting a crown of thorns, they put it upon His Head, and a reed in His right hand. And they came to Him, and bowing the knee before Him, they mocked Him. And they began to salute Him saying: “Hail, King of the Jews.” And they struck Him with their hands. And, spitting upon Him, they took the reed, and they smoteHim with the reed on the Head.”

Fruitful Reflections: Avoid evil desires, Think kindly of others, Hatred of vanity.

FOURTH MEDITATION. JESUS CARRIES HIS CROSS

“And after they had mocked Him, they took off the cloak from Him and put on Him His own garments, and led Him away to crucify Him. And bearing His own cross He went forth to that place which is called Calvary. And going out they found a man of Cyrene named Simon. Him they forced to take up His cross. And they laid the cross on him to carry after Jesus.

“And there followed Him a great multi tude of people and of women who bewailed and lamented Him, But Jesus turning to them said: “Daughters of Jerusalem, weep not over Me but weep for yourselves, and for your children. . . . for if in the green wood they do these things, what shall be done in the dry?””

Fruitful Reflections: Compassion for Our Divine Saviour, Penance, Bearing our own trials patiently, Helping others, The punishment for sin.

FIFTH MEDITATION. THE CRUCIFIXION

“And they bring Him to the place Golgotha. There they crucified Him, And with Him they crucified two thieves, the one on His right hand and the other on His left. and Jesus in the midst. And the Scripture was fulfilled which said: “And with the wicked Hewas reputed,”

“And Jesus said: “Father forgive them, for they know not what they do.”

“Now they stood by the cross of Jesus, His Mother. When Jesus therefore had seen His Mother and the disciple stand- ing, whom He loved, He said to His Mother: “Woman, behold thy son.” After that He said to the disciple: “Behold thy Mother.” And from that hour the disciple took her to his own.

“And it was almost the sixth hour; and there was darkness over all the earth until the ninth hour. And the sun was dar- kened. And about the ninth hour Jesus cried out with a loud voice, saying: “My God, My God, why hast Thou foresaken Me?”

“Afterwards Jesus, knowing that all things were now accomplished, that the scripture might be fulfilled, said, “I thirst.”

“Now there was a vessel set there full of vinegar. And immediately one of them running, took a sponge and filled it with vinegar and put it on a reed and gave Him to drink. Jesus therefore, when He had taken the vinegar, said, “It is consummated.” And Jesus again crying with a loud voice, said, “Father, into Thy hands I commend My Spirit.” And bowing His Head, He gave up the Ghost.

“And behold the veil of the temple was rent in two from the top even to the bottom, and the earth quaked; and the rocks were rent.”

Fruitful Reflections: Love of God, Love of Mary, Love of neighbour, Forgiving our enemies, Thinking of death:

THE GLORIOUS MYSTERIES

FIRST MEDITATION. THE RESURRECTION OF OUR LORD

“But He rising early the first day of the week, appeared first to Mary Magdalen. But Mary st ood at the sepulchre without, weeping. Now as she was weeping, she stooped down, and looked into the sepulchre. And she saw two angels in white, sitting one at the head and one at the feet, where the Body of Jesus had been laid. They say to her, “Woman, why weepest thou?” She said to them, “Because they have taken away my Lord, and I know not where they have laid Him,” When she had thus said, she turned herself back, and saw Jesus standing and she knew not that it was Jesus. Jesus said to her, “Woman, why weepest thou? Whom seekest thou?” She, thinking that it was the gardener said to Him, “Sir, if thou hast taken Him hence, tell me where thou has laid Him., and I will take Him away.” Jesus saith to her, “Mary.” She turning saith to Him, “Rabboni” ( Master) . Jesus saith to her: “Do not touch Me, for I am not yet ascended to My Father: but go to My brethren and say to them: “I ascend to My Father and to your Father, to My God and your God.””

Fruitful Reflections: Personal love for Jesus, Never lose Jesus by sin, The thought of our resurrection, Faith, Devotion to our guardian angel.

SECOND MEDITATION. THE ASCENSION

“He led them out as far as Bethania, and lifting up His hands He blessed them. And it came to pass, whilst He blessed them and while they looked on, He departed from them, and He was raised up, and was carried up to heaven. And a cloud received Him out of their sight. And the Lord Jesus was taken up to heaven, and sitteth at the right hand of God.

“And while they were beholding Him going up to h eaven, behold two men stood by them in white garments, who also said, “Ye men of Galilee, why stand you looking up to heaven? This Jesus Who is taken up from you into heaven, shall so come as you have seen Him going into heaven.”“

Fruitful Reflections: Prayer, Work and pray, Zeal for the salvation of souls, Hope.

THIRD MEDITATION. THE DESCENT OF THE HOLY GHOST

“And when the days of the Pentecost were accomplished they were all together in one place, and suddenly there came a sound from heaven as of a mighty wind coming; and it filled the whole house where they were sitting. And there appeared to them parted tongues, as it were of fire, and it sat upon every one of them. And they were all filled with the Holy Ghost, and they began to speak with divers tongues, according as the Holy Ghost gave them to speak.

“And when this was noised abroad, the multitude came together and were confounded in mind, because that every man heard them speak in his own tongue. But Peter, standing up with the eleven, lifted up his voice and spoke to them. They themselves that received his word were baptized: and there were added in that day about three thousand souls,”

Fruitful Reflections: Faith, Love of the Church, Obedience to the Holy Father, Propagation of the Faith.

FOURTH MEDITATION. THE ASSUMPTION OF OUR LADY INTO HEAVEN

“The prophet Elias was carried to heaven in a fiery chariot, which according to interpreters was no other than a group of angels who bore him off from the earth. “But to conduct thee to Heaven, O Mother of God,” says the Abbot Rupert, “a fiery chariot was not enough; the whole court of Heaven headed by its King, thy Son, went forth to meet thee.” “On first meeting her, Jesus said, “Arise, make haste, my love, my dove, my beautiful one, and come, for winter is now past,”

“Behold Mary already enters that blessed country. But on her entrance the citizens of Heaven, seeing her so beautiful and glorious ask the angels without the gates, as Origen supposes it, with united voices of exultation: “Who is this that cometh up from the desert, flowing with delights, leaning upon her Beloved?”

“Then all the angels and saints begin to bless and praise her; singing with far more reason than the Hebrews did to Ju—dith: “Thou art the glory of Jerusalem; thou art the joy of Israel; thou art the honour of our people.”“ (St. Alphonsus

Liguori.)

Fruitful Reflections: The grace of a happy death and a glorious resurrection, Honouring Our Lady, The joys of heaven.

FIFTH MEDITATION. THE CROWNING OF OUR LADY QUEEN OF HEAVEN

“All the saints then in Paradise welcomed Holy Mary on her entrance into heaven and saluted her as their Queen. All the holy Virgins, all the holy Confessors, the Martyrs, the Apostles and Prophets, the holy Patriarchs, and Adam and Eve. Who can ever form an idea of the affection with which her dear spouse St. Joseph came to salute her? All the angels then came to salute her; and she, the great Queen, thanked all for the assistance they had given her on earth, and more especially she thanked the Archangel Gabriel, who was the happy ambassador, the bearer of all her glories, when he came to announce to her that she was the chosen Mother of God.

The humble and holy Virgin then kneeling adored the Divine Majesty, and all absorbed in the consciousness of her own nothingness, thanked God for all the graces bestowed upon her by His pure Goodness, and especially for having made her the Mother of the Eternal Word. And then let him who can, imagine with what love the Most Holy Trinity blessed her! Let him imagine the welcome given to His Daughter by the Eternal Father; to His Mother by the Son; to His Spouse by the Holy Ghost. The Father crowned her by imparting His power to her; the Son His Wisdom; the Holy Ghost, His love. And the three Divine Persons, placing her throne at the right of that of Jesus, declared her Sovereign of Heaven and earth; and commanded the angels and all creatures to acknowledge her as their Queen, and as such to serve and obey her.” (St. Alphonsus Liguori.)

Fruitful Reflections: Love of Our Blessed Mother, Imitation of her virtues, Devotion to her, The joys of heaven, Confidence in the power and mercy of Mary.

Remember to do all with the intention of making reparation to the Immaculate Heart of Mary.

Imprimi Potest:

R. O”CONNELL, C.SS.R., Prov. Superior.

Nihil Obstat:

W. M. COLLINS, Diocesan Censor.

Imprimatur:

@ D. MANNIX,

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis.

4th July, 1955

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Feast of The Epiphany And of The Three Holy Kings

REV. ALBAN BUTLER

INDEX

JANUARY 6

EPIPHANY, which in the original Greek signifies appearance or manifestation, as St. Austin observes,1 is a festival principally solemnised in honour of the discovery Jesus Christ made of himself to the Magi, or wise men; who, soon after his birth, by a particular inspiration of Almighty God, came to adore him and bring him presents. Two other manifestations of Our Lord are jointly commemorated on this day in the office of the church: that at his baptism, when the Holy Ghost descended on him in the visible form of a dove, and a voice from heaven was heard at the same time: “This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased.”2 The third manifestation was that of his divine power at the performance of his first miracle, the changing of water into wine, at the marriage at Cana,3 “by which he manifested his glory, and his disciples believed in him.” Upon so many accounts ought this festival to challenge a more than ordinary regard and veneration; but from none more than us Gentiles, who, in the persons of the wise men, our first-fruits and forerunners, were on this day called to the faith and worship of the true God.

The call of the Gentiles had been foretold for many ages before in the clearest terms. David and Isaias abound with predictions of this import; the like is found in the other prophets; but their completion was a mercy reserved for the times of the Messiah. It was to him, who was also the consubstantial Son of God, that the eternal Father had made the promise of all “nations for his inheritance”;4 who being born the spiritual king of the whole world, for the salvation of “all men,”5 would therefore manifest his coming both to those that “were near, and those that were afar off,”6 that is, both to Jew and Gentile. Upon his birth, angels7 were dispatched ambassadors to the Jews, in the persons of the poor shepherds, and a star was the divine messenger on this important errand to the Gentiles of the East; conformably to Balaam’s prophecy,8 who foretold the coming of the Messias by that sign.

The summons of th e Gentiles to Bethlehem to pay homage to the world’s Redeemer was obeyed by several whom the Scripture mentions under the name and title of <Magi>, or wise men; but is silent as to their number. The general opinion, supported by the authority of St. Leo, Caesarius, Bede, and others, declares for three. However, the number was small, comparatively to those many others that saw that star, no less than the wise men, but paid no regard to this voice of heaven: admiring, no doubt, its uncommon brightness, but culpably ignorant of the divine call it, or hardening their hearts against its salutary impressions, overcome by their passions, and the dictates of self-love. In like manner do Christians, from the same cause, turn a deaf ear to the voice of the divine grace in their souls, and harden their hearts against it in such numbers, that, notwithstanding their call, their graces, and the mysteries wrought in their favour, it is to be feared that even among <them> many “are called, but few are chosen.” It was the case with the Jews, “with the most of whom,” St. Paul says, “God was not well pleased.”9

The wise men being come, by the guidance of the star, into Jerusalem, or near it, it there disappears: whereupon they reasonably suppose they are come to their journey’s end, and upon the point of being blessed with the sight of the new-born king: that, on their entering the royal city, they shall in every street and corner hear the acclamations of a happy people, and learn with ease the way to the royal palace, made famous to all posterity by the birth of their king and Saviour. But to their great surprise there appears not the least sign of any such solemnity. The court and city go quietly on in seeking their pleasure and profit! and in this unexpected juncture what shall these weary travellers do? Were they governed by human prudence, this disappointment is enough to make them abandon their design, and retreat as privately as they can to screen their reputation, and avoid the raillery of the populace, as well as to prevent the resentment of the most zealous of tyrants, already infamous for blood. But true virtue makes trials the matter and occasion of its most glorious triumphs. Seeming to be forsaken by God, on their being deprived of extraordinary, they have recourse to the ordinary means of information. Steady in the resolution of following the divine call, and fearless of danger, they inquire in the city with equal confidence and humility, and pursue their inquiry in the very court of Herod himself: “Where is he that is born king of the Jews? “ And does not their conduct teach us, under all difficulties of the spiritual kind, to have recourse to those God has appointed to be our spiritual guides, for their advice and direction? To “obey and be subject to them,”10 that so God may lead us to himself, as he guided the wise men to Bethlehem by the directions of the priests of the Jewish church.

The whole nation of the Jews, on account of Jacob’s and Danial’s prophecies, were then in the highest expectation of the Messiah’s appearance among them; the place of whose birth having been also foretold, the wise men, by the interposition of Herod’s authority, quickly learned, from the unanimous voice of the Sanhedrim, or great council of the Jews, that Bethlehem was the place which was to be honoured with his birth, as having been pointed out by the prophet Micheas11 several ages before. How sweet and adorable is the conduct of divine providence! He teaches saints his will by the mouths of impious ministers, and furnishes Gentiles with the means of admonishing and confounding the blindness of the Jews. But graces are lost on carnal and hardened souls. Herod had then reigned upwards of thirty years; a monster of cruelty, ambition, craft, and dissimulation; old age and sickness had at that time exasperated his jealous mind in an unusual manner. He dreaded nothing so much as the appearance of the Messiah, whom the generality then expected under the notion of a temporal prince, and whom he could consider in no other light than that of a rival and pretender to his crown; so no wonder that he was startled at the news of his birth. All Jerusalem, likewise, instead of rejoicing at such happy tidings, were alarmed and disturbed together with him. We abhor their baseness; but do not we, at a distance from courts, betray several symptoms of the baneful influence of human respects running counter to our duty? Likewise in Herod we see how extravagantly blind and foolish ambition is. The divine infant came not to deprive Herod of his earthly kingdom, but to offer him one that is eternal; and to teach him a holy contempt of all worldly pomp and grandeur. Again, how senseless and extravagant a folly was it to form designs against those of God himself! who confounds the wisdom of the world, baffles the vain projects of men, and laughs their policy to scorn. Are there no Herods nowadays? Persons who are enemies to the spiritual kingdom of Christ in their hearts?

The tyrant, to ward off the blow he seemed threatened with, has recourse to his usual arts of craft and dissimulation. He pretends a no less ardent desire of paying homage to the new-born king, and covers his impious design of taking away his life under the specious pretext of going himself in person to adore him. Wherefore, after particular examination about the time when the wise men first saw this star, and a strict charge to come back and inform him where the child was to be found, he dismissed them to the place determined by the chief priests and scribes. Herod was then near his death; but as a man lives, such does he usually die. The near prospect of eternity seldom operates in so salutary a manner on habitual sinners as to produce in them a true and sincere change of heart.

The wise men readily complied with the voice of the Sanhedrim, notwithstanding the little encouragement these Jewish leaders afford them from their own example to persist in their search; for not one single priest or scribe is disposed to bear them company in seeking after, and paying due homage to, their own king. The truths and maxims of religion depend not on the morals of those that preach them; they spring from a higher source-the wisdom and veracity of God himself. When, therefore, a message comes undoubtedly from God, the misdemeanours of him that immediately conveys it to us can be no just plea or excuse for our failing to comply with it. As, on the other side, an exact and ready compliance will then be a better proof of our faith and confidence in God, and so much the more recommend us to his special conduct and protection, as it did the wise men. For no sooner had they left Jerusalem, but, to encourage their faith and zeal, and to direct their travels, God was pleased to show them the star again, which they had seen in the East, and which continued to go before them till it conducted them to the very place where they were to see and adore their God and Saviour. Here its ceasing to advance, and probably sinking lower in the air, tells them in its mute language: “Here shall you find the new-born king.” The holy men, with an unshaken and steady faith, and in transports of spiritual joy, entered the poor cottage, rendered more glorious by this birth than the most sumptuous stately palace in the universe, and finding the child with his mother, they prostrate themselves, they adore him, they pour forth their souls in his presence in the deepest sentiments of praise, thanksgiving, and a total sacrifice of themselves. So far from being shocked at the poverty of the place, and at his unkingly appearance, their faith rises and gathers strength on the sight of obstacles which, humanly speaking, should extinguish it. It captivates their understanding; it penetrates these curtains of poverty, infancy, weakness, and abjection; it casts them on their faces, as unworthy to look up to this star, this God of Jacob; they confess him under this disguise to be the only and eternal God: they own the excess of his goodness in becoming man, and the excess of human misery which requires for its relief so great a humiliation of the Lord of glory. St.Leo thus extols their faith and devotion: “When a star had conducted them to adore Jesus they did not find him commanding devils, or raising the dead, or restoring sight to the blind, or speech to the dumb, or employed in any divine actions; but a silent babe, under the care of a solicitous mother, giving no sign of power, but exhibiting a miracle of humility.”

The Magi, pursuant to the custom of the eastern nations, where the persons of great princes are not to be approached without presents, present to Jesus, as a token of homage, the richest produce their countries afforded, gold, frankincense, and myrrh- gold, as an acknowledgment of his regal power; incense, as a confession of his Godhead; and myrrh, as a testimony that he was become man for the redemption of the world.

The holy kings being about to return home, God, who saw the hypocrisy and malicious designs of Herod, by a particular intimation diverted them from their purpose of carrying back word to Jerusalem where the child was to be found. So, tocomplete their fidelity and grace, they returned not to Herod’s court; but, leaving their hearts with their infant Saviour, took another road back into their own country. In like manner, if we would persevere in the possession of the graces bestowed on us, we must resolve from this day to hold no correspondence with a sinful world, the irreconcilable enemy to Jesus Christ; but to take a way that lies a distance from it, I mean that which is marked out to us by the saving maxims of the gospel. And pursuing this with an unshaken confidence in his grace and merits, we shall safely arrive at our heavenly country.

It has never been questioned but that the holy Magi spent the rest of their lives in the fervent service of God. The ancient author of the imperfect comment on St. Matthew, among the works of St. Chrysostom, says they were afterwards baptized in Persia by St. Thomas the apostle, and became themselves preachers of the gospel. Their bodies were said to have been translated to Constantinople under the first Christian emperors. From thence they were conveyed to Milan, where the place in which they were deposited is still shown in the Dominicans’ church of that city. The emperor Frederick Barbarossa having taken Milan, caused them to be translated to Cologne in Germany, in the twelfth century.

NOTES

1 St. Aug. Serm. 203, ol. 64, de div.

2 Matt. iii. 17.

3 Jo. ii. II.

4 Ps. ii. 8.

5 I Tim. ii. 4.

6 Eph. ii. 17.

7 Luke ii. 10, 11.

8 Num. xxiv. 17.

9 I Cor. x. 5.

10 Heb. xiii. 17.

11 Ch. v. 2.

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First Commandment

ADORATION AND PRAYER

REV. CLEMENT CROCK

INDEX

I. ADORATION

“I am the Lord, thy God. Thou shalt not have strange gods before Me” (Exod., xx. 2–3).

As we approach the lovely feast of Christmas, we are always filled with thoughts of the tender and loving Christ-Child, born in the lowly stable of Bethlehem. We behold Jesus, who was God from all eternity, take to Himself the form of a helpless Babe, and choose a crib for His cradle. What creature can fathom God’s humility! And yet, just because Jesus came as a mere Babe, there are some who only remember Him as a Babe; who look upon Jesus as a helpless creature that will harm no one. Others again view God as an old decrepit man, advanced in years, who is more or less indifferent as to our deeds and actions. The great danger of these two conceptions of God is this: they belittle the power and dignity of God, and remove all fear and respect for Him and His Commandments.

But let us not forget that this Christ-Child is also He whom the three Kings from the far East came to adore. As recorded in the Gospel (Epiphany), “they came to adore Him.” Let us not forget that this same Jesus is the God who created Heaven and earth and all the creatures that inhabit the earth. He is the same God who watched over His chosen people from whom the Redeemer was to arise; the same God who, amidst thunder and lightning, gave the Ten Commandments of the Decalogue. Recognizing God, therefore, as we do, we must also respect His Commandments, which were given to us in a most impressive manner.

When God delivered to Moses the Ten Commandments on Mt. Sinai, He inscribed them on two tables of stone. The one contained three, the other seven Commandments. The first group comprises our duties towards God, the other our duties towards ourselves and our neighbor.

It is true, these Commandments originally came into being with the creation of the world. They are based upon the natural law and conscience. Every individual man, since the creation of the world, at birth was endowed with a conscience, which acted like a monitor, admonishing him what is right and what is wrong. But for generations the chosen people of God wandered in captivity in Egypt. The Egyptians practised a false worship, adoring idols or false gods. Some of the Jews, too, had become tainted with this false worship. Now, Jehovah was delivering the Jews from bondage, leading them safely through the Red Sea. But before they were to enter the Promised Land, God reconfirmed amidst thunder and lightning the original Commandments by giving them in concrete form upon the two tables of stone, beginning with the allimportant words: “I am the Lord, thy God. Thou shalt not have strange gods before Me.” We shall begin the consideration of this Commandment today.

(O Jesus, assist us with Thy grace!)

Of all the duties in life, the most important is our duty to our God. This duty obliges us, first and foremost, to recognize only one God of heaven and earth. God demands of us that we render to Him, and to Him alone, that homage we owe to the Supreme Being, who is our Lord and Master. This homage we call adoration.

Definition.—To adore God, then, is to render Him supreme worship; to acknowledge Him as our sovereign Lord and Master. The high respect we pay to our parents, superiors, temporal rulers, heroes in battles, or the Saints of God, etc., is different from adoration. This high esteem, this particular respect, we call veneration. These we venerate, but God alone we adore. And this adoration we give to God, can be of two kinds, interior adoration and exterior adoration.

Interior Adoration.—Interiorly we adore God when we pay Him homage from the bottom of our hearts. We may do this without pronouncing a single word. We find this frequently amongst our faithful, while attending the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass, or after a devout reception of Holy Communion. They may forget all about their prayer book and all other surroundings, but their minds are fixed in admiration upon God, upon the altar, or the Holy Eucharist buried in their bosoms. In their minds, they admire their God, adore Him, and thank Him. This is one of the best and highest acts of worship we can offer to God. This is true interior adoration.

Exterior Adoration.—Exteriorly we adore God, when we join to the homage of our hearts words or an attitude of the body which expresses outwardly the respect and love we feel for God from within. This can be done by vocal prayers, folding our hands, making the sign of the Cross, raising the hands towards Heaven, genuflecting our knee, and all the other ceremonies of the Church. All these are examples of exterior worship of God.

The Two Combined.—The ordinary way is to combine the two, adoring God both interiorly and exteriorly at the same time- for example, by vocal acts of faith, hope and charity. By faith we subject our minds to the truths revealed by God; by hope we put all our trust in the infallibility of His promises; by charity we love Him with our whole heart, with an undivided love.

Another beautiful example of exterior and interior worship combined we find in the Three Kings from the East, who came to Our Lord in the stable of Bethlehem. Guided by the star and enlightened by faith, they recognized in Jesus the King who was to rule, the God who was to be adored, and the God-Man who was in after time to suffer and to die. This is the meaning of the gifts they offered at His feet. Gold they offered in acknowledgment of Christ’s royalty or kingship, the frankincense in recognition of His divinity, and myrrh (used in former centuries to embalm bodies) to betoken His suffering humanity.

Objection.—But here we are confronted with an apparent difficulty. So many of our non-Catholic friends tell us that we make too much over ceremonial worship, exterior worship, and not enough over interior worship. All that God demands of us, they say, is that we adore Him “in spirit and in truth,” quoting Scripture for their stand. Some go so far as to reject allexternal worship. This is the attitude of the Quakers, Amish, etc., who believe in “silent worship”—no ministers, no ceremonial services.

Answer.—Our answer is, that God demands of us both exterior as well as interior devotion. Exterior worship is a natural consequence of interior worship. The one postulates the other. Our body belongs to God as well as our soul. Hence, if our soul is obliged to adore God “in spirit,” why should not in like manner the body adore God “in truth”—that is, outwardly or in fact? If our body is to suffer the pains, or enjoy the rewards, with the soul in the next world, why should the body not also participate in the duties of humble dependence and of sacrifice that are imposed upon the soul?

Yes, it is but natural that the sentiments that agitate our soul, such as love or hatred, joy or pain, hope or fear, despair or confidence, all instinctively manifest themselves outwardly. Unconsciously they show themselves even unwillingly on our features, in our gestures, in our bearing, in our whole exterior. How then could the faith, the hope and the charity or love with which our hearts are filled, remain pent up in our souls without any exterior manifestation whatsoever? No, it is impossible that the sentiments we feel towards God should not show themselves by exterior acts. Why did the Three Kings from the East expose themselves to so many hardships and travel through foreign lands in quest for the ChristChild? Was it not for the sake of manifesting both externally and internally their sincere devotion and homage to their God and Saviour?

All other creatures give outward homage to God. Whether animate or inanimate, the lilies of the fields, the fish in the waters, creatures of earth, birds in the air, the sun, moon; and the stars in the heavens, all render homage to the grandeur of God, in so far as they are able. Why then should our bodies be the only exception? Even though we be unwilfully distracted in our public prayers, or find it hard to pray with inward devotion when coming to church, yet our external acts of prayer, our coming to divine services, are in themselves acts pleasing to God.

An old monk, we are told, always had a hard time to keep awake, much less to pray with devotion, when he was called early every morning to attend divine services. Upon entering the church, his prayer was somewhat as follows: “Well, good morning, Lord; here is your old “sleepy head” again. I will try my best to keep awake and pray as best I can. But if I cannot pray, I will be able to give you atleast as much honor as these lifeless statues that grace your temple.” The external adoration of this monk was, in itself, an act pleasing to God.

On the other hand, a man may feign external worship to the exclusion of all internal worship. He can join religious services in a church, hold pious conversations, and yet not be a God-fearing man. He may do all this out of pure human respect, for gain or other ulterior motives. Such a kind of exterior worship is of no value, but a mere detestable hypocrisy. Such people may be compared with the Pharisees, whom Our Lord compared to whited sepulchres. Outwardly they appear to men beautiful, but inwardly, they are filled with dead men’s bones (Matt., xxiii. 27).

Necessity of External Worship.—However, since human society is so constituted, being interdependent creatures as we are, we claim that external worship of God with internal worship has become a necessity. You see, we are not individual beings, entirely independent of one another. We are, as it were, a spoke in the human wheel of society. As such, we are obliged to edify and encourage one another. But how can this be done without an exterior worship, without vocal prayer and public ceremonies?

Without fear of contradiction, I go even further and say: interior worship cannot even exist without showing itself exteriorly. Interior devotion must have a form, a body, which animates and preserves it. Ivy, left to itself, will spread aimlessly over the ground. But give it a support, and it will climb ever upward, until it has reached the zenith of its support. The same may be said of our interior devotions. They must be supported by outward acts of worship. Hence, as long as the world has existed, we find some form of external worship, some sacrifice offered to God, by all nations and peoples.

This explains those great feasts, divine services, and other pious exercises constantly practised by the Church. Abolish all exterior worship, and public prayer from home and church, abolish the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass and the Sacraments, close the churches, over throw the altars, and soon you will no longer have any idea of God, religion, and the duties it imposes. God would be forgotten or disowned, and atheism, irreligion and immorality would reign supreme.

Our only conclusion, therefore, must be this: it is not sufficient to honor God only in spirit, as some may contend, but we must also do so in word and in deed. The body must be united with the soul in paying to God the homage due Him. This is the real meaning of the First Commandment of God:”I am the Lord thy God, thou shalt not have strange gods before Me.”

Interior adoration, then, consists in acts of faith, hope, and love; exterior adoration in the external acts of our holy religion. We must, therefore, accept all that God has revealed. We must love Him above all else, and all else for the love of God. We must place our sincere hope and confidence in Him. We must pray to God, whether to adore Him, to ask for favors, or to thank Him for benefits received. We must unite our will to God’s will, and say in all things: “O Lord, Thy will be done.” We must unite our heart’s prayer with that of our lips when we pray: “Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Ghost, as it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shallbe, world without end.” Amen.

II. PRAYER IN GENERAL: ITS NECESSITY

“With desolation is all the land made desolate, because there is none that thinketh in his heart” (Jer., xii. ii). During the last few years, my friends, we have heard much about the “New Deal,” that was about due for suffering humanity. Such a new deal in the spiritual life has long since been overdue for many of our day. We are passing through an unusual period of human history, during which, perhaps more than ever before, the spirits of sensuality, avarice, and pride have taken possession of mankind. People are urged on to a life of unbridled indulgence in the pleasures of the senses, to a mad pursuit of money and of wealth. Spurred on by a sense of pride, they are obsessed with an exaggerated idea of self-importance. Many are eager to lord it over others, while they themselves reject all subordination to lawfully constituted authority. The consequence of such unnatural conditions is the growing spirit of religious indifference, a dense ignorance in matters spiritual, a forgetfulness of God and His Commandments, a disregard for man’s eternal welfare. In a word, people seem to be so immersed in things of earth that they no longer feel the need of seeking, as the Apostle Paul bids us, “the things that are above” (Col., iii. i). They have cast overboard the very First Commandment of the Decalogue, which tells us:”I am the Lord, thy God. Thou shalt not have strange gods before Me.” Truly, the words of the Prophet Jeremias are again verified: “With desolation is all the land made desolate, because there is none that thinketh in his heart” (Jer., xii. ii). In other words, as seen in our last discourse, we have ceased to worship God interiorly and exteriorly. This combined worship of heart and lips may be summed up under the one word, prayer. Prayer, then, and its necessity shall claim our attention today.

(O Jesus, assist us with Thy grace!)

Definition.—Prayer, as we understand it, is the lifting up of our hearts and minds to God, to adore Him, to thank Him for favors received, and to ask Him for favors we are still in need of. “By prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, let your petitions be made known to God,” says St. Paul (Phil., iv. 16). Prayer, then, is the directing of our thoughts and affections heavenward, because, when we pray, we forget the things of this world, our temporal affairs, our cares and our pleasures, and raise our minds and hearts to God. In prayer we occupy ourselves principally with God and our salvation. In fact, prayer always has a twofold purpose: (a) first, to offer to God the homage, respect, love and gratitude demanded of us by the First Commandment; and (b) to tell Him our needs, whether necessary for soul or body, for this life, or the life to come.

Kinds of Prayer.—There are two kinds of prayer, mental and vocal, corresponding to interior and exterior worship of God. Mental prayer is the prayer of the heart; vocal prayer the prayer of heart and lips combined. In mental prayer our soul alone communes with God; in vocal prayer we express by word of mouth the thoughts and sentiments with which our soul is filled.

Mental prayer cannot be too highly recommended. It is by this form of prayer that we learn to know God and to know ourselves. At the same time, we must not neglect vocal prayer, because, as we saw in our preceding discourse, our body as well as the soul must do homage to God. Also, as we are social beings, mutual edification often requires vocal prayer.

Teresa Neumann agrees with other spiritual writers who discourage many complicated vocal prayers. There is only one prayer that Christ taught us, and that is the “Our Father” or “Lord’s Prayer.” The “Hail Mary” we have also from God indirectly, through the mouth of the Angel Gabriel and St. Elizabeth. The “Apostles” Creed” we received from the twelve Apostles. Besides our Mass Prayers, the acts of faith, hope, love, and contrition, there are but few other prayers that are approved or directly recommended by the Church.

Then we have what are called ejaculatory prayers. Highly recommended, these are short but most effective aspirations of the mind and heart to God. Such are for example, the following: “My Lord and my God!” “O sweetest Heart of Jesus, I implore, that I may love Thee more and more.” “Jesus, meek and humble of Heart, make my heart like unto Thine.” “Sweetest Heart of Jesus, be my love. Sweet Heart of Mary, be my salvation,” and many others. Each one of these just mentioned is very highly indulgenced, as often as repeated. All the masters of the spiritual life advise us to practise this form of prayer often; especially, if our occupation does not allow longer prayers. We read, for example, in the life of St. Francis of Assisi, that for weeks he would say no other prayer but the beautiful words: “My God and my all!”

Necessity of Prayer.—But the question arises: is prayer really necessary for salvation? The answer is, positively yes. Prayer is absolutely necessary for salvation, and this for three reasons: (1) be cause the honor of God demands it; (2) because of the need we have of grace through prayer; (3) because of the formal command of Jesus Christ.

(1) For the Honor o f God.- God, as we admit, is the Creator, Lord, and Master of us all. Both faith and reason tell us that He created man for His own glory, in order to have adorers in spirit and in truth. It is, therefore, the solemn duty of every rational creature to render homage to God, to express to Him our respect, love and gratitude. This we do through prayer. Hence, to neglect prayer on account of indifference or ill-will, is a violation of the First Commandment and a criminal impiety. Such people who neglect prayer are worse than the pagans, who, at least, in all sincerity adore their idols, invoke their aid, and offer sacrifice to them.

(2) Grace through Prayer.—Secondly, we said, prayer is necessary for salvation, because of the grace of God we stand in need of. “Without Me you can do nothing,” says Jesus (John, xv. 5). Again, He says: “Ask and you shall receive, seek and you shall find, knock and it shall be opened to you” (Luke, xi. 9). Therefore, to obtain this grace prayer is absolutely necessary. Through His Sacred Passion and Death Christ, as it were, laid up a vast spiritual bank account from which we all must draw. Prayer and the Sacraments are the means by which we apply these merits to ourselves. For this reason St. Augustine calls prayer the key to heaven.

But some will say: “Why pray, when God in His infinite wisdom knows all our wants and needs?” To such I would respond: “Why do parents expect children to come to them and ask for things parents know they need?” Parents know the needs of their little ones, still, did you ever notice how the hearts of parents grow tender and concede to the wishes of pleading children much more readily than otherwise? In like manner, God undoubtedly knows our needs and our wishes before we make them known to Him. But He has a right to require us to ask for them. Hence, St. Paul admonishes us with these words: “Be nothing solicitous; but in every thing, by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, let your petitions be made known to God” (Phil., iv, 6).

(3) God Commands It.—Thirdly, we must pray, because Our Divine Saviour Himself has given the express command to pray. Nothing is more formal in Holy Scripture. “Watch and pray,” says St. Mark (xiii. 33). St. Luke (xviii. i) tells us “we must always pray.” St. Paul exclaims: “Pray night and day. Pray without ceasing” (I Thess., v. 17, xi. 10). There is no question here of mere counsel, but a rigorous precept: we must. It is a duty as important as to love God, or to render justice to our fellow-man.

Furthermore, this precept of prayer applies to everyone, to rich and poor, to the learned and unlearned, to sinner and Saint alike. Our Divine Saviour gave us the example. Although not obliged to pray for Himself, still, to impress upon us more strongly the obligation of prayer, He passed entire nights in prayer. “And He passed the entire night in the prayer of God,” says St. Luke (vi. 12).

But When Should We Pray?—As soon as we awake in the morning, we should consecrate the day to God with the words, “All for the love of God,” or some similar phrase. At home, we should pray mornings and evenings, before and after meals. And these prayers should be made family prayers. All should participate, while one of the family leads. This was a universal custom for years, and is practised extensively even today.

But how many parents today neglect to say their daily prayers together with their children! How many say them at all? There are some families in every parish who say the Rosary every evening with father or mother leading. Others say the Litany of the Blessed Virgin and other prayers. But I am sure that by far the majority say them privately, and not a few omit them entirely. And why? Because their parents did not accustom their children to this pious and beautiful practice from childhood. Remember, this union of family prayers offers a holy violence to Heaven, and, where practised, infallibly draws down God’s blessings upon that home and family. This Jesus has promised when He said: “Where there are two or three gathered together in My name, there am I in the midst of them” (Matt., xviii. 20).

But no matter how busy we might be, there is no excuse for omitting our morning and evening prayers entirely. If we cannot say long ones, we can at least find time to say a few short ones. Say them “on the run,” if necessary. Father McGrath, a priest from the West; tells the following story. He was instructing a group of Indians in our holy religion, and preparing them for Confirmation. Amongst them was one old Indian who could not remember anything, not even the Lord’s Prayer. When Bishop Conaty arrived for Confirmation, the case of this old Indian was referred to His Excellency. The good Bishop called for the old gentleman and asked him as follows:

“Father tells me you find it hard to study. Do you say any prayers?”

The reply was: “Yes. When I get up in the morning I look up towards the heavens and say: “Good morning, God!”” “Very well. Do you say any night prayer too?” queried the Bishop. “Yes,” replied the old Indian, “when I wrap myself up in the blanket for the night, I look up at the stars and say: “Good night, God!” “

Although brief, yet this old Indian did not neglect his morning and night prayers. He was confirmed by his Bishop. Then, besides our morning and night prayers and our prayers before and after meals, we are advised to pray often during the day. We all meet with trials and difficulties quite frequently during our lives. When such occasions arise that irritate us, it is just as easy to say “All for the love of God,” as it is to fly into a rage and console ourselves with a long litany of cursewords. Here St. Paul admonishes us, saying: “Pray without ceasing.” That is, we should perform our daily actions for the love of God and in a spirit of penance. For, by making our good intention in the morning, all our actions during the day will be meritorious. Hence, in all our thoughts, words and deeds, we should have no other motive than to please God and to do His holy will in all things. This is “praying without ceasing.”

If such be our motives in all things, then we can ask God in our prayers for temporal favors as well as spiritual favors. We can ask Him to bless our families and give us health, to bless our crops and our business, to ask, in short, for everything that may be conducive to our happiness here as well as hereafter. Such prayers are most certainly heard. Only, in asking for temporal favors, we must do so with an entire resignation to God’s holy will and for a good purpose. For, it is certain that if we should ask for health or wealth only to make bad use of them, God, who reads our innermost hearts and knows our most secret intentions, would not hear such prayers.

This, then, is our duty towards God through prayer. It may be vocal or it may be mental; it may be for things temporal or things eternal. But pray we must. It is a command from on high, upon which our salvation depends. And before peace and prosperity will again return to a stricken world, people must once more fall upon their knees and learn how to pray. For, says the prophet: “With desolation is all the land made desolate, because there is none that thinketh in his heart” (Jer., xii. ii). Amen.

III. THE POWER OF PRAYER

“Amen, amen, I say to you; if you ask the Father any thing in My name, He will give it to you” (John, xvi.23). From the fourteenth to the sixteenth chapter in the Gospel according to St. John, we find recorded the parting words of

Jesus, shortly before His Passion. Jesus had taken His Last Supper with His be loved Apostles. He now arose to deliver His sad farewell discourse. A few hours more, and He was to leave them, so that His crowning work of Redemption by His sacred Passion and death might be consummated.

Like a dying father who feels his death approaching, Jesus addresses His little flock of Christians in a most touching manner. He opens His final discourse with these words: “Let not your hearts be troubled.” He then tells them, that for His sake much suffering was in store for them also. But to guide them safely through life’s struggles, He had left them His Commandments and His Sacraments. If further help should still be needed, they are but to ask and it shall be given. “If you shall ask anything in My name, that I will do.” And later He declares: “Amen, amen, I say to you; if you ask the Father anything in My name, He will give it to you” (John, xvi. 23).

My friends, at that solemn moment, just before His death, Jesus explains to us the power of prayer. As a last legacy, He gives us prayer as the conquering power in attaining our eternal salvation. For, everyone can pray; hence, everyone can be saved. Prayer, then, is also one way we honor God according to the First Commandment of the Decalogue. In our last discourse we spoke on prayer, its nature, its form (mental and vocal), and its necessity. Today we shall consider briefly the power and efficacy of prayer.

(O Jesus, assist us with Thy grace!)

Prayer is, so to speak, the ordinary channel through which our Lord communicates to us His graces and comes to our aid, as He promised before His death. It is the bridge that spans the infinite chasm between heaven and earth. It is the ladder of the Patriarch Jacob, which reaches from earth to Heaven, upon which the Angels ascend and descend. They ascend in order to carry our sincere prayers to the throne of God, as the Archangel Raphael said to the pious Tobias : “When thou didst pray with tears, I offered thy prayers to the Lord” (Tob., xii.). It is the ladder on which the Angels descend in order to bring to us the blessings of God. For this reason the great Doctor of the Church, St. Augustine, calls prayer “the key to Heaven, because in fact it not only opens to us the treasures of divine grace, but also, by means of this grace, makes possible our entrance into Heaven.” Yes, “what weapons are to the soldier,” exclaims St. Eligius, “prayer is to the Christian.”

Prayer is faith, hope, and love in action. For Jesus tells us: “Ask and you shall receive; seek and you shall find; knock and it shall be opened to you” (Matt., vii. 7). By so doing, we shall receive light for our minds, comfort for our hearts, and strength for our wills. For God alone is the source of light, the Father of consolation, and the Lord of strength; and prayer is the means by which these graces and powers are communicated to us.

Light.—By prayer we receive light for our minds. When we are in the quiet sanctuary of prayer, we are far removed from the distractions of the world. There God sheds over our minds the shining rays of grace and the warming embers of His love. He dispels the darkness of sin and ignorance, disperses the clouds of passion and prejudice, enlightens our minds to holy faith, and makes known to us the hidden things of God. There we measure the shortness of time and the length of eternity. There we peer into the “depths and the riches of the wisdom and mercy of God.” There we feel the majesty and greatness of God. There we realize the littleness and nothingness of man. And if we see aught of good in man, it is because Jesus has already enriched him by His graces and love.

It is through prayer that we see how fleeting and paltry are the vanities and pleasures of this world. We see the hideousness of sin, stripped of its allurements and naked in its deformity. We see through prayer how good and meritorious are virtue and holiness; how beautiful the ways of the Lord and justice. It is through prayer that we realize that we have no lasting city here. It is then that, like St. John, we get a glimpse of the Heavenly Jerusalem, faintly seeing “how great and precious are the promises, and how grand the inheritance which has been given us.”

Comfort.—Secondly, in raising our hearts and minds to God in prayer, we obtain comfort in return. “Nothing is sweeter or more cheering than a fervent prayer,” says St. Bernard. Our hearts are set aglow with devotion, and our minds are dilated with joy and happiness, because we are now kneeling before the God of consolation, whose spirit, like the sun, warms while it enlightens.

Our hearts are then quiet from the distractions of the world. We see people eagerly strive for earthly comforts and pleasures. But how small and trivial they seem when calmly weighed in the scale of the sanctuary! The sufferings and trials we must endure seem short and momentary when measured in the light of eternity. There our hearts are comforted by those solacing words of the Lord Jesus: “Peace be to you.” For it is as easy for Our Lord, in answer to prayer, to heal the wounds of our hearts and calm our turbulent passions as it was for Him to cure the leper, and to say to the winds and the waves: “Peace, be still!” If our hearts sigh to the Lord: “Out of the depths have I cried to thee, O Lord,” then will the Lord Jesus stretch forth His hand to help us as he did to Peter, and we shall then triumphantly walk with Jesus over the turbulent waters which threaten to engulf us.

Strength.—Thirdly, when we commune thus with our God in prayer, dear friends, we also gain strength for our wills. Our moral courage is then strengthened. We find it easy to resist sin and dissipate ignorance. For we have fortified ourselves with the armor of Christ. And if He is with us, who can withstand us? Like St. Paul, “we can do all things in Him who strengtheneth us.” Like the Apostles, who prayed during ten days for the coming of the Holy Spirit, we too can goforth from the chamber of prayer, “rejoicing that we are accounted worthy to suffer reproach for the name of Jesus.”

In one way, our salvation depends entirely on God. For He tells us: “Without Me you can do nothing.” But viewed from another angle, our salvation depends entirely on ourselves. For, God’s grace alone, although in itself infinitely powerful, cannot save us. We are rational and free beings, and God will not save us against our wills. In this light must we understand St. Augustine, when he says:”Work as though everything depended upon you; and pray as though every thing depended upon God.” Therefore, to be saved, we must sincerely desire it. But to have this sincere desire, is to will it; and to will it, is to devote ourselves to the work of our salvation. But in our unaided endeavors we will find the task too hard. Then we must resort to prayer, and cry out with St. Paul: “I can do all things in Him who strengtheneth me.” And the more earnest and persistent our prayers, the more powerful will be His help. And His help, added to our earnest endeavors, will enable us to secure our heavenly ambition. For”prayer,” says St. Augustine,”is a capital drawing interest.”

Prayer, then, becomes for the true Christian a breastplate of might to protect us in the good fight against evil and sin. By prayer we are trained as good athletes to run the race after virtue and holiness. For, says St. Chrysostom,”prayer is to man what the root is to the tree, and the foundation to a building.”

This light, comfort, and strength which we obtain through prayer, my dear brethren, constitute our joy. For true joy is to love the Father and know His Son, “in whom are all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge,” consolation and strength. Our joy, then, will be to keep the Commandments, and thereby blot out the handwriting of sin that is against us. Our joy will be to live piously in Christ, by patiently suffering our sorrows and trials. Our joy will be to live holily and to practise virtue. All this through the power of prayer.For, says Christ: “Ask and you shall receive, that your joy may be full.” And again: “If you know how to give good things to those you love, how much more will the Father, who gives good things to those who ask!” And St. John says: “Whatsoever we ask, we receive, because we keep the Commandments and do those things that are pleasing in His sight.”

In the lives of the Saints we see striking proofs of God’s mercy and love, and the faithful fulfillment of His promises through prayer. Josue prays, and God stops the sun in his course. Moses prays, and God opens a passage through the Red Sea. Elias prays, and fire descends from Heaven. The Ninivites pray, and they are spared from the enemy. The Apostles, the Martyrs, the Confessors, the Virgins pray, and they raise the dead to life, heal the sick, and work the most astonishing miracles. They face the rage of tyrants, and undergo with courage and serenity the most cruel deaths. They openly profess their faith, and preserve themselves pure and undefiled amidst temptations of the world and the snares of Satan.

Conclusion.—In conclusion, therefore, let us not lose confidence in the power of prayer. If at times our prayers are not answered, let us examine ourselves, whether we prayed with attention, whether we prayed with true humility, whether we prayed with devotion, confidence and perseverance. If these conditions are fulfilled, and still our prayers are not answered, then we should not be discouraged. Our prayers are surely heard; but let us acknowledge then that what we prayed for was not conducive to our eternal welfare. But rest assured that our prayers are not in vain. For, instead of what we petitioned for, other favors will be granted that we need more than the ones prayed for.

Realizing this, we should continu e to pray for ourselves and for one another. “Pray for one another, that you may be saved,” says St. James (v. 16). Parents should pray for their children, and children for their parents. We should pray for our spiritual and temporal superiors, who stand much in need of prayer in these critical times. Finally, we should pray for our own spiritual and temporal needs. Yes, “pray without ceasing,” cries out St. Paul. For we have Christ’s own promise: “If you ask the Father anything in My name, He will give it to you” (John, xvi. 23). Amen.

Nihil Obstat:

Arthur J. SCANLAN S.T.D., Censor Liborum

Imprimatur:

Patrick Cardinal Hayes,

Archbishop of New York New York, September 28, 1935

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First Steps To Faith

BY DONALD DRAYTON CHRISTIE

INDEX

Why do millions of people, some very ordinary, others outstanding, believe so firmly in the Catholic Church? What makes men and women devote their whole lives in missions or monasteries to their Church’s service? Above all, what is it that leads them to accept so happily a teaching which may seem to you quite unbelievable, childish, even wrong?- and makes them, moreover, ready to obey rules and regulations affecting their private lives in ways that appear unreasonable and unnecessary ?

These are questions that may well perplex a normally intelligent and adult person. If you ask a Catholic who is well informed, he will tell you that the answer is: By Faith.

Not unnaturally you will wonder what he means by this. To one who is outside the Church, so brief an answer will be insufficient. You will need some explanation if you are to understand all that it implies. When a Catholic speaks of “ Faith “ he means something quite definite. He does not mean “trust,” which is the common meaning of the word, as when we say: “I have complete faith in my doctor.” Nor does he mean “belief” as when we say: “I believe in life after death because it seems reasonable- but of course I may be wrong.”

THE GIFT OF GRACE

Faith, to a Catholic, is what enables him to believe without doubting truths that cannot be reached through human reason, experience, or experiment. It is rather like the knowledge a blind man has of the visible world. He has to accept the fact that people can tell the shape of distant things without touching them, from what others tell him. For him, sight is outside his natural powers. But he has no doubt that it exists: it is a truth he accepts by an act of human faith in the authority of his fellow men.

Similarly, if there is a reality beyond the reach of all human experience, any certain knowledge which we can have of it must come from outside the natural world. The Catholic is convinced, for reasons to be explained below, that this does happen. His knowledge- and it is knowledge, not guess-work- of truths beyond the reach of his senses is given him by God through “supernatural grace.” The word “grace” here means a freely given gift; and “supernatural” implies something that is beyond, but not contrary to, the natural order of things as we know them.

But like any other gift, supernatural grace can be accepted or rejected, just as the blind man can accept or reject what others tell him about the wonders of sight. You may think that this is begging the question. “You may object that it means nothing to you whena Catholic says the firmness of his faith is due to the gift of this “supernatural grace.” The very existence of a supernatural order of things may well appear at the best no more than a vague possibility. This is understandable. But if the Catholic happens to be right, if there does exist a reality beyond that reached by our senses, and if God really does give people the “grace” to know about it, obviously this gift must be given first, before we can believe. The blind man could not know what others saw until he had been told.

At this moment you may honestly doubt whether we can be sure of any truth that cannot be known through human reason. God, however, can still kindle within you, as His free gift, that first spark which, provided you do not extinguish it deliberately, will eventually develop into the steady flame of faith. And if He does, what then? Will your mind be flooded with sudden light, banishing doubt and dissolving all difficulties? Probably not. This can happen- it has happened—but it is certainly not usual, and must not be expected. In all probability the first effect will be no more than a vague feeling of dissatisfaction with one’s present state of mind; an urge to know more about the purpose of one’s existence. “I do not admit what you say about supernatural grace,” you may say, “but if it does exist, then naturally I should like to be sure that it will be given to me. But how can this happen if I don’t believe in it?”

THE NEED FOR A RESPONSE

The answer to this is simple: If you have a genuine desire to know more about the Catholic Church it is a sign that grace is already working. But, like a seed planted in a garden which needs help from the soil if it is to flower, so too, onc e the first seed of Faith has been planted through grace, cooperation is essential if it is to develop and bear fruit. If, in spite of inward prompting you are disinclined to make an effort to go further, you will prevent its action from becoming effective. A gift does not fulfil its purpose by being given, but by being received.

A man may turn from the teaching of the Church because he shrinks from the consequences of being convinced, like one who prefers to remain snugly in bed although the smell of smoke warns him that his house may be on fire. The risks may be real enough: there may be the danger of losing one’s job, or the affection of a dear one; an inheritance might be lost, or theories publicly uttered by word or writing may have to be retracted. Some favourite sin or human indulgence may have to be abandoned or fought against, or a connection with a charitable organization opposed to Catholic teaching broken off. Or a man may be so stubbornly satisfied with his own opinions that he is determined not to change a lifelong habit of judging what is true and good by the light of his own limited experience and uncertain reasoning—like a man who insists on driving in the wrong direction rather than admit he has wrongly read his map.

We should not hesitate to condemn the folly of the man who risked being burnt to death rather than leave the momentary comfort of his bed to face the cold of a winter night in order to save his life : but we all too often forget that temporary inconvenience now is a small price to pay for eternal life. If, however, you are genuinely determined to seek truth, and, if you find it, to take the consequences, you can rest assured that whatever difficulties you may have to face, the grace of faith will make things easier than they may at first appear. The conviction that you have found truth will dwarf those obstacles which to the eyes of doubt seemed giants.

THE CONVICTION OF TRUTH

How are you to obtain that conviction? How, you may ask, can you be sure that what the Church teaches is the truth ? To discover the answer to these questions your active cooperation will be needed. It is no good passively waiting to see if faith will come”. A room with heavy curtains drawn across the windows will remain dark in spite of sunshine outside. If someone within takes the trouble to draw the curtains apart a little, not only will he see the light outside, but its rays will fall on him, and he will share its brightness. But though the light falls on him automatically, it could not have done so had he not done something first to let it in.

Similarly, before the final Act of Faith can be made, something must be done. The mind must be prepared to receive the truth, and to recognize it as truth by a free act of will. This can only happen if the intelligence is convinced through careful enquiry into the teaching of the Church, and into the reasons for her claim to be the only authority appointed by God to teach what we must know and do, and to provide the help we need, that we may be sure of fulfilling the purpose of our existence.

By a “free act of will” is meant our willing consent to cooperate with the grace God may give to help us. Our readiness to do this may be prompted through varied circumstances. Although possibly very ordinary in themselves, these are in reality put in our path providentially, in order to arouse our interest and turn our will in the right direction. Our final consent must be given freely, for God does not force us to accept His aid; but, by giving us encouragement at an opportune moment in our life, He helps us take the all important initial step. We might be put on the right path by the chance overhearing of a remark or reading of a book—this pamphlet for example. We might be influenced through contact with some saintly person; through being the fortunate witness of a cure at Lourdes ; through the conversion of one whom we love, or whose intellectual ability and integrity we admire; or perhaps (as often happens) through an increasing disgust with a life of self-indulgence, grown empty and frustrated.

Cases vary greatly, and rarely is there only one external influence. Few converts can say exactly what it was that set them on the right path, and what influences kept them on it. But whatever these external influences may have been, their effect is to dispose the enquirer to open his mind to the grace offered, and profit from it.

INTELLECTUAL HUMILITY

To do this a spirit of intellectual humility will have to be acquired. This does not mean denying the intelligence with which one has been endowed. That would not be true humility. If a man has a vast knowledge of medicine, astronomy or science, for example, it would not be humility to deny this fact. There is no virtue in belittling our talents. The humility required consists in realizing that any talents we may have are- as indeed they are commonly called—“gifts,” given us freely to use as best we can. We are truly humble of mind when, whatever these gifts may be, we readily admit our dependence for them on our Creator, recognizing they have limitations, and that they can be lost.

All our human knowledge is dependent upon limited experience, and is only a small part of the whole of truth. Much that our senses tell us is inaccurate and illusory. Matter appears solid, and we may be forgiven if we are convinced it is. But the physicist knows that matter is almost entirely space. Again, to the eye the television screen appears to present a complete picture, but the expert knows that this is made by a tiny light that sprays the screen with one single spot so quickly that the illusion of a picture is complete.

The deeper we delve into the nature of the natural world the more we find that things differ greatly in reality from what their appearance leads us to suppose. On examination, the little knowledge we imagine we do possess is found unreliable ; and knowing this we shall be more ready to recognize that any conclusion we draw may well be faulty or misleading. When at last we do attain real Faith, it will be found that our personal experience, and such facts as through human means we have been able to ascertain, will fall naturally into their true perspective within the wider view of truth made available to us through the Church, like the pieces of a jig-saw puzzle which seem so meaningless at first, but which prove, one by one, to have their place as the whole picture begins to appear.

It is clearly impossible for a single individual to look into every problem himself. In our quest for knowledge we are all more or less dependent upon the work and studies of others—on the historian, the traveller, the scientist and the philosopher. But each can find the answers to his own personal and particular problems, and make certain that, as far as human reason is concerned, the teachings of the Church are based on rational foundations. Having found that the most awkward-looking pieces of our jig-saw fit, we shall not be acting against reason if we accept the obvious conclusion that the others will eventually fit as well.

FAITH NOT CONTRARY TO REASON

For Faith must not be contrary to reason, which is an essential element of our human nature. We are intelligent beings, each with an individual personality, and not, like the lower forms of life, intended to be the slaves of instinct or blind chemical reaction. What does in practice appear reasonable to different individuals will depend upon the learning, experience and upbringing of each one. What is accepted as “common sense” to some may appear an almost insurmountable obstacle to others. If you, in your enquiries, feel that you have some problem which makes the acceptance of the teaching of the Catholic Church impossible, it will be well to give this point especially careful examination. You can be sure that every difficulty you are likely to meet has been raised and thrashed out already. It would be hard to believe that the many learned and intelligent men who have lived as Catholics could be ignorant of the difficulties that have been raised about their faith. That they have continued to support the Church- some even with their blood—is evidence that they at least were satisfied that the Church is fully able to hold its own in any argument, and to answer any doubt.

Nearly every problem raised today by individual sceptics or by systems of belief opposed to the Church, has been carefully studied and answered in the past. Scientific discoveries, which at first sight may seem to oppose Catholic teaching, by the time they have filtered through as “modern” ideas to the man in the street, will long since have been thoroughly sifted and put in their true perspective, and the relationship between the knowledge of the physical world discovered through science and the spiritual truths of the Church’s teaching made clear. But, however imposing the list of sincere Catholic scientists, historians and philosophers may be, individual difficulties are bound to arise. The faith of someone whom we recognize as our superior in intellect and learning may influence, but not necessarily convince us. For one who values freedom of thought the main problem might be expressedthus: “I could agree with some of the teaching of the Church- where I can see a reason for it. But I can’t possibly believe something just because I”m told to, especially if, to me, it seems untrue and even wrong.”

This is the very natural reaction of one who has always thought as prompted by his own personal opinions. He is prepared to accept someone else’s teaching only if, to him, it seems to agree with his own preconceived ideas. In such cases the final judgement must always suffer the weakness and uncertainty of being based on the limited evidence of his own narrow experience; and few of us are willing to admit, or even consider, how narrow our personal experience is bound to be. It is especially in this matter of religion, which cannot be proved by physical demonstration, and which touches our private lives so closely, that people are inclined to resort most frequently to personal opinions. To accept something as true merely because the Church teaches it appears to demand a credulity or simple mindedness that does little honour to their powers as rational beings. This is very far from being the case.

THE AUTHORITY OF THE CHURCH

When a Catholic makes an Act of Faith in the teaching of the Church he does so only after rational investigation has shownthat the Church has indeed the authority to teach in God’s name. Because it has this authority, he knows that when the Church tells him that something is certain, he can believe without doubting, on the authority of God Himself. Whatever authority human beings may have, they are liable to error. Yet we consider it reasonable to accept without question the opinion of experts in their own field of learning; and we do not feel that we insult our own reason by doing homage in this way to their superior knowledge. The reliability of the Church, on the other hand, is guaranteed by its divine Founder’s promise that it would teach mankind the truth. Once one is convinced of this, to accept its teaching becomes a supremely rational act. Nothing could be more reasonable than paying willing homage to God by submitting our reason to the authority of a Teacher guaranteed by Him who is Truth itself.

Even if we had never heard of the Church, our reason alone might lead us to suspect that God would in some way or other make known His wishes for us. We should think a housewife very unreasonable if she were to sack her maidservant for not fulfilling her duties if no instructions had been given and no implements provided for carrying out the work required. Nor should we think much of a school where the pupils were put into a classroom and there abandoned, to prepare for manhood on their own, as best they might.

Had the Creator put us into the world and then abandoned us to our fate, His gift to us of free will and the ability to reason would reflect neither purpose nor intelligence. Yet, throughout the whole physical universe, from the vast galaxies of stars down to the intricate structure of the most microscopic living creature we see reflected an intelligent purpose that we cannot conceive as having been absent when He created man.

That you are reading this pamphlet is evidence of your natural yearning for truth and your inborn desire to make the most of your life. Like all living creatures, we are naturally curious. But the animal is curious only about those things in contact with its senses—what it feels, scents, sees or hears. Man possesses a superior curiosity. He wants to know about idea, about truths that are beyond the senses; he wants to know what is good and how to attain it. Were there no sure guide available it would mean that man alone had been created with needs that could not be satisfied, and endowed with intellectual gifts to no purpose.

CONSCIENCE ALONE IS NOT ENOUGH

Experience teaches us that conscience on its own is not enough. Partly through inherited and outside evil influences, partly through our own fault, our ideas of right and wrong are often warped. Our need for guidance is obvious from the fact that even those who honestly obey the dictates of conscience act very differently from one another. We know, too, that there are many who hesitate to act according to conscience because they are uncertain whether the sacrifices and control it would impose are really worth while.

The Catholic, however, claims that he knows the purpose of life and possesses an infallible guide for his conscience in essential matters, not because he is wiser or cleverer than other men, but because he has access to the teaching of the Church, which he knows, on God’s assurance, is the only authority on earth that cannot err in such matters of faith and morals. But he does not, if he is a thinking man, accept this authority blindly. His faith is based on the conviction that the claims of his Church can be proved by reason. Even the born Catholic, brought up to accept his religion as a matter of course, is required, when he reaches the age of reason, to learn the grounds on which it is based.

Sentiment or natural inclination are not sufficient cause for deciding whether or not to accept the Church’s authority. Such feelings are liable to change. Faith must be based on a more solid foundation, not subject to the vagaries of every passing mood. Thus it is only when you set out to examine these claims in the cold light of reason that you will be making that use of your intelligence which, as a rational being, you are bound to do. Not until you have done so will you be able to make an act of faith intellectually satisfactory and capable of withstanding the test of time.

Since the Church is meant for all, it is not surprising to find that its claims are supported by facts easily obtained and easily understood. The majority of us have no time for prolonged study. Few of us are competent historians, and fewer still can follow the intricacies of philosophical arguments. It is not necessary to attempt the impossible task of working out everything for oneself A patient assures himself, before submitting to an operation, that the surgeon he chooses has proved his ability, but he does not examine in detail every step of his training and every case he has handled. In the same way, when we make a rational investigation into the grounds for an act of faith in the teaching of the Church, the essential task before us is to examine the reliability of its authority as a divinely-appointed teacher.

We should quite rightly conclude that it could not possibly possess such authority if what it taught was so lacking in the essential qualities of truth as to prove its claim unacceptable. We must start, therefore, by making sure that what the Church teaches can be shown to possess all those qualities that are essential to the nature of truth. If any of these qualities are absent, then we can be sure that we are on the wrong path. But if all the elements of truth are present then its claim to teach with an authority acceptable to reason will clearly merit the most careful consideration we can give. Fortunately it is not difficult to make certain that the teaching of the Catholic Church has all the elements of Truth itself.

THE CHURCH’S TEACHING FITS THE FACTS

In the first place, if the teaching of the Church is true it must be able to answer the questions “Why am I here?” and “What must I do about it?” If it cannot do this it will be no more than a theory, having no direct bearing on our lives, and no personal appeal to us as individuals. If it be true the teaching of the Church must fit known facts. No one can be expected to accept as true something which shows every sign of being false.

Its teaching must be consistent. It must be the same at all times and in all places, and hang together as one complete whole. Truth cannot change from place to place or age to age. It must, moreover, where its own beginning in time is concerned, fit the facts of history. And to be acceptable to each one of us it must be equally acceptable to all mankind, regardless of varied circumstances, age, intelligence or race. Every normal man or woman, of whatever gifts or disposition, must be able to grasp its essential truths and profit from the way of life it proposes. Finally, but by no means least in importance, it must work in practice.

All these conditions can be found to exist. A very brief summary cannot deal at length with every point, but it can show that the teaching of the Church does possess all the qualities that Truth demands. When this is clear, it follows that it must therefore be worth our while at least to make as thorough an examination of it as circumstances permit.

Catholic teaching is, in fact, an intelligent explanation of the mystery of life. If this were not so it could not be accepted as such by a very large number of extremely intelligent and honest men and women of different race and upbringing, of wide and varied talents, in every branch of science and learning. Should anyone doubt this, he need only examine some of the works by Catholic authors on the shelves of a Catholic bookshop, or in the catalogues it supplies. It will be found that there is no branch of science or philosophy in which they do not show the most profound scholarship and ability. Yet, for all this, the genius of Catholic teaching lies in the fact that its essentials can easily be understood by men and women, and children too, who have no special intellectual training or gifts. Since it is intended for everyone, it could not be otherwise!

SCIENTIFIC TRUTH ACCEPTED

Catholic teaching is not opposed to known facts. Contrary to the accusations of those who have not troubled to make sure of their facts, the teaching of the Church is not opposed to science. Scientific truth- when it really is truth,- cannot be opposed to the whole Truth of which it forms a part, and from which the Church draws its own teaching. There are far too many scientists alive to-day who are devout Catholics to leave room for doubt on this point. True science does not affect the doctrines of the Church. Our degree of progress in the knowledge of the mechanism of the material universe does not alter the truths of the Church’s religious teaching, which is concerned with why God created man, not with the method He used; and with the destiny of man, not the physical structure of his body or the chemistry of life.

The teaching of the Church does not change with every passing era. Catholicism is often accused of clinging too rigidly to its ancient doctrines, as if this were a fault. In the Christian world outside the Church theories rise and fall; in some bodies, as in the Church of England, many different and opposed points of view exist side by side. If the Church changed its teaching to suit the opinions of the moment, it would show itself to be no more than the mouthpiece of men. God’s truth cannot alter: and of all the teaching authorities in the world, only the Catholic Church can claim for its doctrines this essential quality.

What does happen is that the Church—like any other living organism- grows and develops in a growing and developing world. Its basic doctrines are more fully explained in the course of time; their relationship with new-found hitherto unknown natural laws is stated. The logical conclusions and consequences of its fundamental truths are developed. These fundamental truths, which the Church teaches as certain, are to be found in the original “deposit” of faith given by its Founder to the Apostles, and passed on to later ages in the writings and traditions of the Church. Everything else, its theology (which is the explanation of the truth and not the truth itself), its discipline, its organization, are all based on this deposit. It does not teach new truths, but it does from time to time clarify its position when queries about its original teaching makes this advisable. Only its organization and discipline, in so far as this is of purely human origin, may alter to suit changing circumstances. Much that seems new to the outsider is simply the Church’s answer to some fresh theory or discovery which had not previously called for a statement from the Church.

It is worthy of note that as far as most non-Catholic theories proposed by Protestant bodies are concerned, nearly all their “modern” ideas were already thought of and answered in the first few centuries of the Christian era. The difficulties of modern man with regard to religious truth do not differ in essentials from those of past ages.

If the teaching of the Catholic Church is true, it must be suited to the needs of people in every age and of every race. That it fulfills this condition is evident from facts easily checked by anyone interested. There are today sincere, devout and orthodox Catholics in all parts of the world, all holding equally the one same faith. Orientals, Africans, Europeans—all find in Catholicism the same intellectual, moral and spiritual satisfaction. Because of differing temperaments, the outward expression of their common faith may vary. Just as human respect is shown in varied ways—by bowing, clapping hands, or silence, so the Faith may be clothed in pomp or austerity, in flamboyant expansiveness or in quiet restraint. This is a matter for human individual taste and local tradition: but the faith thus variously expressed is the same. Ask an educated Catholic in any part of the world what he believes, and he will have the same story to tell.

Because the simple and the learned, the African, Oriental and Westerner, all find what they need in its teaching, we are forced to conclude that Catholicism cannot be the product of one special type of human mind, suited only to such minds. It is only a teaching expressing truth to the whole human race that can correspond to the natural instinctive yearnings of us all.

The Church’s claim to be the divinely appointed authority founded by Christ to carry on His work and teaching fits the facts of history. We are all inclined to accept as true events of the past as presented to us by the history books we have read. Few stop to wonder on how sound a foundation, on what real evidence, the facts they present are based. We accept without question stories about personalities of past ages which are in reality often far less well based on solid evidence than the story of the beginnings of the Catholic Church. The enormous mass of literature on the subject, the vast amount of scholarship and learning and unremitting research that so many capable men in this and former centuries have employed, all show without question that no single character has had to stand up to such searching enquiry as that made about Jesus Christ. No other documents that have come down to us from the past have been examined with such minute care as those that make up the New Testament. No historical record has had its authenticity and accuracy so exhaustively tested to discover whether it shows signs of later or less reliable authorship than claimed.

Recent archaeological discoveries and modern methods of research have greatly strengthened the case for the truth and dependability of the New Testament books—discoveries made and conclusions drawn by men, by no means always Catholics, who have employed their scholarship solely in the interests of truth.

THE FAITH WORKS OUT IN PRACTICE

Finally, the way of life proposed by the Church does work out in practice. No one will deny that there are deeply religious and morally good men and women in every religion, and many who have no professed faith. This is because we all share the light of conscience, and natural reason can give to any religion some part of truth. There are other ways of going from London to York than by taking the train: but they will mean depending on our own resources, and we shall be more likely to go astray, take longer, arrive in less good trim, and possibly never arrive at all.

But this picture of a train, like all such comparisons, is far from perfect: it must not make you imagine that once in the Catholic Church you have nothing left to do. The Church does not guarantee to take all its members to heaven, just because they are members. But it does guarantee to show the way and provide the means. Only in the Catholic Church do we find the frequent occurrence of heroic virtue among persons of widely differing gifts and temperament. Scholars and peasants, kings and beggars, old and young- all have been numbered among its saints.

It is the common experience of people in the Church, including those who at one time lived in disbelief or evil ways, that if honestly and conscientiously put to the test it really does “work.” A realization of this—perhaps in many cases subconscious—accounts for the hesitation of those who, standing on the threshold, still hesitate, reluctant to give up some personal weakness or an easy way of life. But those who do pluck up the necessary courage find, to their surprise, that to do so is not only easier than they had imagined, but their happiness is greatly increased, whatever sacrifices they are called upon to make.

Considered impartially, with an open mind, these facts must compel the honest enquirer to admit that the teaching of the Church has all the qualities required of truth. It follows that if it is truth you seek, the teaching of the Catholic Church merits careful and thorough investigation. That so many men of good will, and Christians too, remain outside the Church is due largely to ignorance, and to the prejudice that such ignorance inspires.

For ignorance about the Church is widespread. Yet the necessary information is available to all, easy to obtain and freely given. It does not matter whether you are a member of any other Christian organization or religion, or have had no previous religious experience at all: for anyone who turns enquiringly to the Catholic Church there is no difficulty of faith to which he will be unable to find the solution. From the Church in which all are welcome, none will be turned away.

We have covered here no more than the first steps that lead towards making that Act of Faith which is the inward consent of the mind to the teaching of the Church. Before you can give that final assent, there may be much ground to cover. You will want proof that the teaching of the Catholic Church is indeed guaranteed by God; that it was founded by Christ; that Christ promised it the authority it claims; that Christ Himself was truly God made Man, Whose promises we can depend upon. Doubts about certain doctrines may puzzle you and make you hesitate; queries about the Church’s moral law and practical discipline will need explaining and justifying.

There are innumerable books on all these points, ranging from learned works in many volumes to simple pamphlets like this, so that everyone, whatever his need or interest may readily obtain the information he seeks. And there is always the Catholic priest, trained to answer problems, general or personal, to whom you or anyone may turn, without expense and without obligation, either for a complete course in Catholic teaching or for the answer to a single question.

THE CHURCH WELCOMES ENQUIRIES

In any enquiry you may make, you need have no fear that you will be “caught” against your wishes. The Church welcomes enquiries, and has no desire to act in any way that would keep them away. It certainly will not press anyone who does not freely and willingly accept its teaching. Indeed, it cannot do so, since one of its doctrines is that Faith must be rational and freely given, and the convert must be fully instructed and aware of what he is doing before he can be received into its membership. But it spares no pains to make this as easy as possible, and will patiently and sympathetically help you through all your perplexities and problems in the hope that, in God’s good time, the first seed of grace may grow into a lively and well-founded faith.

And if in time, perhaps not without pause or set-back, this should happen, you will gradually become aware of a new outlook on life, a new peace and security of mind; you will find you understand what Christ meant when He said that the members of His Kingdom must become as little children, so that they may, not blindly, yet still “as through a mirror darkly,” glimpse the unity of Truth beyond man’s piece-meal science- the boundless Realm not limited by space, the Eternity unfettered from the chain of time: and, with Faith made sound by reason, freely accept God’s grace to say “Credo”, I believe.

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Five Figures of The Faith

BY FRANK MURPHY

INDEX

THE PRIEST

ST. VINCENT DE PAUL

It is the dawn of the seventeenth Century and it is Marseilles!

Picture, then, the quayside; the blue waters of the Mediterranean lapping at the steps and rocking gently the boats.

There is bustle at the quay, for a ship is about to sail. A little ship, it is true, for it goes but a day’s journey; but sti11, it is a ship, and it goes a-sailing, so there is bustle. A young Gascon steps down the cobbles, talking volubly with a chance friend, whom he has persuaded to accompany him to Narbonne, across the water.

The friend, it happens, is a priest. We see that from his black cassock. Rather worn it is, and, as the young Gascon thinks, in places a trifle shabby. Timid, too, of the sea he is, but so fair it is this day that he makes the journey.

Vincent, for that is the young priest’s name, would soon have done with reverie as the shore receded into the haze. He would say his prayers and talk to the sailors and listen to the prattle of his Gascon companion. A calm crossing, and Narbonne should be made in good time.

But now a new interest arises-a ship coming up a-port. Too far distant at first to distinguish, but gradually to the eyes of the watchers it breaks into a trio of brigantine. Interest changes to anxiety, for they are of a foreign figure. And then, a sudden chill-Turkish pirates, and three to one. There are sharp orders, a running to and fro, feverish preparation for battle. The few weapons are handed out; there is hurried confession in the face of death. The ship is boarded. “Ruffians, worse than tigers,” as Vincent tells us, swarm the deck. The crew put up a gallant fight. The captain kills one of the pirate chiefs, and is himself cut into “a hundred pieces.” Others are killed, all the rest wounded, Vincent included. For them the slave market, and so, with wounds roughly bandaged, they are carried off to Barbary.

There they are sold. They are led through the streets of Tunis to the market-place. Merchants open the mouths and look at the teeth, prod the ribs, and make the captives walk, trot and run, carry loads and wrestle.

Vincent de Paul is sold. A succession of masters-one an old alchemist, for whom Vincent stokes furnaces; another a renegade from the Faith.

Finally, Vincent escapes in a skiff, carrying with him a memory of irons that not only cut into the flesh, but which leave a festering mark upon a man’s soul.

Vincent finds himself again in France, in a poor lodging under the shadow of a Hospital. He visits the sick, ministering to their spiritual and bodily needs, and holding the dying in his arms. Obscurely he lives, yet his virtue cannot remain hidden. Hard by the hospital are the terraced gardens round the palace of the former Queen Margot, who strives to live down the scandals of her past. But she maintains a court, and into its brilliance Vincent is introduced as chaplain by her secretary. Here is all the fastidious splendour of costume. Vincent must have thought of the rags upon his poor. Here, too, the glitter of jewels—not a far contrast to the ulcers of the leg iron. Luxury for lap-dogs, perfume in plenty for poodles, and blue-birds in gilt cages! Could Vincent forget the lashing of backs and the stench of prisons? Strange company for St. Vincent de Paul, you might say. But it has its lessons. He makes a vow to devote his life to the poor, and we find him shortly with a few villagers for a flock.

But he is recalled. Again that contrast which marks his life. Not to the court once more, but to the mansion of Philip de Gondi, General of the Galleys. Vincent’s work is to care, mainly, for the education of the young de Gondis. Madame de Gondi herself, renowned for her beauty, her elegance and her wit, who shines among the stars of the fashionable firmament, seeks for the spiritual direction of the saintly tutor.

But Vincent flees. He steals quietly to the town of Chatillon. A dreadful spot! No priest worthy of the name to minister to its people; filthy, unhealthy, its houses fallen into ruin, an asylum and lurking place for the robber and the footpad. Passion and outrage stalk the streets. To it Vincent and a companion give example of a regular life, according to the laws of God. The Sacraments are administered, the village church restored, the gospel preached, and in less than a year chaos gives way to order.

In his pastoral work at Chatillon, Vincent reflects upon what might be done further afield. We find him again with the de Gondi, but with a purpose. To Madame de Gondi he tells his ambition. She agrees to assist him. Confraternities, associations, must be established, that assistance be given to the needy. Bodies and souls must be fed.

The confraternities are established, of women at first. Madame de Gondi and other women of wealth, wives of merchants and of soldiers, ladies of court and servant girls walk the sewers of Paris, kneel by the pallets of the sick poor, feed the hungry, scrub the floors. Silver plate is sold that the hungry might eat, and that running sores be stemmed. Carriages are abandoned that rough straw give way to a decent sick-bed. Confraternities of men are set up also; homes for the aged, where they may rest, and workshops for the young, where they may learn a trade. In underground cellars, in leaking attics, in dark alleys moves Vincent de Paul, and where he is not there are his confraternities -himself again. He finds his way into the hospitals. Disease rages; filthy, obstructed sewers propagate infection. No wonder men sicken. But where are they taken? We have a description.

“Tumbled-down, tottering beds, dirty bed clothes riddled with holes, sticky with spittle and slobber, harder than sailcloth from dirt and dust; broken pots that were never scoured; the timber infested with bugs; foul, cast-off dressings strewn in all directions, oozing out on the floor. The wounded, pregnant women, and those who had just been delivered, small-pox cases, and those afflicted with scurvy were all heaped together, close to the Mortuary chamber and dissecting-room, Beds intended to hold two contained six, piled together, attacked by fearful and various diseases, which they communicated to each other.”

In these ghastly scenes is Vincent, planning for his poor.

He thought much about the hospitals, but he had still another thought, a memory. He remembered that de Gondi was General of the Galleys, and so, in the deep, underground cellars, green-coated with slime, he visits his fellow-beings, chained in their living tombs. He washes their sores and brushes off the vermin. He sees the scars upon the heads of those who have tried to end their earthly misery by dashing out their poor brains against the stones. He sees the rats and the spiders running and crawling over these ghosts of human beings.

Vincent goes to de Gondi. Vincent is authorised to take what means he thinks fit to improve the lot of the unhappy convicts. He acquires a special home for them wherein he can not only look after them, but raise, educate and transform them. “No more lost souls in the next world,” he says, “or miserable ones in this.” At last, by Royal assent, he is given jurisdiction over the convicts not only of Paris, but of the whole kingdom. His convicts! He goes to the galleys.

No space here to tell of the horrors of the galley-slaves, or of Vincent’s care for them. You must read it for yourself. The number of priests who wish to help Vincent in his work leads to the realisation of another of his dreams-the foundation of a community. A few at first, then numbers, until their small house is inadequate. The old leper hospital of St. Lazarus, which shelters lepers no longer, is offered them. In 1632 Vincent takes possession. Hence, his missionaries are known as Lazarists. Saint Lazare becomes famous overnight. Crowds flock to it. The centre of Vincent’s work, it hums with activity. It holds assistance to the poor, counsel for the troubled, retreat for the weary, conferences for the clergy, and Christianity for the world. Twenty five houses of the new institute are founded in Vincent’s lifetime. Additions are made to Saint Lazare, which, though plundered by the Revolution, remain, though turned by the whirligig of irony into convict cells.

His congregation of men set up, Vincent founds a congregation of women-the famous Daughters of Charity, they of the quaint cornette. The sick are soothed by kindly hands; into orphanages and schools the Daughters of Charity gather the little children. Much work done, but for Vincent not enough. What of children stifled at birth, thrown from the window, flung to the rats, or deformed into monstrosities, that they might earn a horrible livelihood for their torturers!

A foundling hospital then! It is established. But, how to get the children! If they are called foundlings, it is Vincent who does the finding. Slipping out by night from Saint Lazare into the dark streets of Paris, that figure, familiar to the lurking cut-throat and garrotter by the unusual, large cloak which it wears, makes its way along the narrow pavements and crooked alleys. Quarter after quarter he searches, picking up from the rubbish heap and the dunghill, from the gutter and the sewer the newborn, gasping its small breath in the fetid air. Back to Saint Lazare he goes, the folds of his great cloak wrapped warmly about him, back to the watchers who wait to take from his arms the struggling wisps of humanity and fan into life the faint flicker that remains.

Back to a few hours of sleep for the weary body of St. Vincent de Paul. Sleep he has need of, but it is little rest. He suffers torture in his limbs, racked by continuous activity. Age creeps on, hand in hand with suffering, but he works to the last. At his poor desk, on his knees in prayer, thumbing his worn breviary, this is his respite. And so, on the 27th of September 1660, sitting in his chair, a crucifix at his lips, quietly he dies.

Saint Lazare is his tomb. About it Paris, grief-stricken, mourns the loss of the Father of the Poor. It becomes a place of pilgrimage, where strong men come to pray. Yet by that odd irony, which we see again today, the resting place of him who has earned his rest by a life for the people, is shaken by the Revolution. Twice is Saint Lazare plundered by the mob; the blood of its priests spilt upon its stones. History repeats itself. They shout, “Liberty!” and rage against the Truth, which alone can make men free, they yell, “Equality!” and fetter those who have lived in the conviction that men are equal. They cry, “Fraternity!” and trample the confraternities of St. Vincent de Paul.

But their cries are but cries, and cries are lost in the wind.

A saint-endures, for sanctity is of God. Nothing else stands!

THE LAYMEN

THE BROTHERS VRAU

If there is any romance in industry, much of it is in the story of the brothers Vrau. But, because you may not have heard of them, refreshing though their story is, here before you are a few bare facts. Their life is a romance-if romance means some wonderful tale, passing the experience of our matter-of-fact business probabilities-and as a romance I will give it.

Once upon a time, though not so very long ago, there lived two brothers and their names were Vrau. They were not brothers in blood, but brothers in law, and they worked and managed a textile factory of some eleven hundred employees at Lille, on the northern border of France. Their story is wonderful because, though they ran their business successfully and were taken up with the busy details of daily industrial life, they operated their workrooms, in their multitudinous activities, on strictly Christian lines, giving to the world a famous example of Catholic social principles in action. Especially did they demonstrate how wealth is to be used in regard to the poor.

Now, there are two very important principles taught definitely by the Catholic Church. The first, with which most of us are familiar, is that property is a right. But is it a right that has been so abused as to bring the world to the sorry plight we see to-day? The Church teaches another principle, equally definitely, and this is not so well known, or hardly understood or practised, and this principle balances, so to speak, and offsets the first. It is this-that a human being, because he is a human being, has a right to live in a Condition that will maintain his full humanity, and every man is bound to see to it that his fellowman is enabled to live in a state fitting the dignity which the Church demands for him.

And this principle, I say, is hardly recognised in our day.

If it were, the heathen practice of usury and other hideous tricks of finance would not have got a footing in our civilised communities, and we would not be seeking solutions and looking for corners around which to turn.

But to the story of the brothers Vrau. Philibert Vrau, the elder of the two, was the son of a thread manufacturer at Lille, and he was born in 1829. Camille Feron, who afterwards took the name of Vrau, was born two years later. Philibert’s early life was a troubled one. Though a man of unusual gifts and full of wide, human interests, his mental and moral training had been deficient. His very sincerity, his desire for mental satisfaction, led him astray. He became a rationalist, followed unsound philosophy, experimented excitedly with spiritism. Yet he was not satisfied. Finally, at the age of twenty-five, he returned to the Faith, his appreciation of its truth awakened and given new life by his experience of error. He thought of the priesthood, buthis father’s advancing years necessitated his taking over the burden of the steadily-growing business.

The firm of Vrau had been manufacturing thread since 1816. It had a large number of workpeople, and when Philibert stepped into the factory his sense of justice, honesty and charity was applied. We who know the teaching of Leo XIII on labour conditions, and see many of his principles put, nowadays, into practice, are shocked at the economic conditions of those times; but little could be done then, save what alleviation kind-hearted employers could manage to give.

But Philibert, though he was but one of a few such men, was a man of great qualities, and now, moreover, he saw the splendour of the Faith in clear vision. He longed to bring its influence into the lives of the thousands teeming in those industrial towns of the North. Since the beginning of the century these towns, clustered about the coalmines, had made remarkable progress. But with the population crowding into the towns came the social problem. Long hours, small wages, child labour, horrible conditions of existence-all these met the eye of Philibert Vrau.

Under his guidance the House of Vrau had become esteemed. He had improved the processes of manufacture; business was thriving. But with one thing he was not satisfied-the condition of his workpeople. And then help came to him in the person of his friend, Camille Feron. Camille had taken out his degree of literature at Douai, near Lille, and had gone to Paris to study medicine. After nine years he returned to his native town and began to practise. From the first he succeeded. His worth was recognised and promise of an honourable career lay ahead of him. He married Philibert”s sister, and a new link was forged between the two friends a link, however, that suggested another one.

Philibert’s ever-increasing business was becoming too much for him. He appealed to Camille to give up his practice and throw in his lot with the House of Vrau. It seemed a sacrifice to Camille but, characteristically, he agreed. He took part in the management of the firm. To the zeal and enterprise of Philibert” he joined his own. In 1870 Philibert’s father died, and Camille took his place as one of the principals. The Vrau brothers had begun.

Like Philibert, Camille had a strong sense of justice and charity, and, looking out upon the factory and. its eleven hundred employees, and beyond it to the thousands in that industrial town, and seeing their miserable, sordid lot, he wondered what could be done to better their condition. He recognised that, even on the business side, mere subordinates can never give the degree of efficiency of which human nature is capable. Alert, interested employees remove a great obstacle to industrial efficiency. Moreover, the latent faculties and possibilities of every human being are given opportunity for development.

And Camille knew, as Leo XIII later put it to the French workers, that it was heathenism which attempted to solve the social problem “by depriving the weaker portion of humanity of its rights, by crushing its aspirations, by paralysing its intellectual and moral faculties, and by reducing it to a state of absolute impotence!” Moreover, as Leo added, “it was slavery.” Camille was determined to be Christian.

But the Vrau factory was set amid the swarming masses of a great town. Camille saw, and Philibert saw, that one thing was necessary as a first step organisation. Camille addressed employers and urged them to unite for the good of their workpeople. Philibert had, as far back as 1866, founded an organisation of men who realised the importance of religious principle from the social point of view. Other organisations sprang up. When, in 1885, Leo XIII expressed satisfaction at the work done and urged further progress, there was founded the Corporation of St. Nicholas. This was a federation of the textile factories. It looked to the moral and material welfare of the industry; it brought employer and employee together, and brought about a spirit of charity and community of interest. It led to a savings bank for the employees, paying 4 per cent on deposits. It originated a co-operative purchasing society, and also a society for mutual help and sick-pensions, maternity, invalid and old-age funds, and provision for funeral expenses. Further, the Society of St. Nicholas secured for married workers a sum proportionate to the term of their service in the factory. Philibert’s foundations grew apace. He travelled about setting up committees, and after him flourished workers” clubs, local pilgrimages,works for newspapers, schools, colleges and boys” clubs; works for the defence of religion. He arranged a congress of these committees-a centre of Catholic Action-which studied all manner of Catholic life: faith and prayer, lectures, journalism, social and charitable works for the defence of religion.

Camille appealed to the employers of the district, urging them to form an organisation to study the relations between capital and labour. He issued a Declaration of the Northern Employers, which was a profession of faith and a programme stating the religious, social and economic principles on which industrial peace and harmony must rest. A meeting of the employers accepted the declaration, and a three days” course of spiritual exercises was held, at which the director insisted on the duties of a Christian employer towards his workpeople. Leo XIII approved wholeheartedly of the association, and urged the setting up of similar works.

The Catholic Congresses of the North in 1885–1886 suggested the formation of mixed and craft unions, each with its own purpose, but ultimately directed to the improvement of factory life. Retreats for workers were instituted, and in 1888 eight hundred men made the spiritual exercises. A league was formed for keeping up the work. As Camille said: “The Church is our strength; we work in its shadow. We must give back Jesus Christ to the worker.”

As was done in the House of Vrau itself, a community of nuns was installed to look after the interests of the womenfolk, and their work was widely appreciated. There was a little chapel and the workers could attend daily Mass if they wished. The pious practices customary among Catholics were observed. Everything was done for morality and comfort. In short, the House of Vrau, a large and successful industry, was a model Catholic community.

With all this interest in the workingman, it was not forgotten that the employer himself must be attended to. So Camille established a school for higher industrial studies, attached to the University, where the future leaders of industry should be trained. Employers were to be fitted for leadership. Said Camille: “A young man, when he leaves this school, must be a trained man; a man who can speak, write, form sound judgments; one who knows all that his state requires him to know in science, in business, in the world of industry; a citizen, too, knowing his country in its history and resources; a man who has learned to love his fellow-men and is trained to serve them; an employer, skilled in the technical details of his industry, but not less in, the direction of men, through his intellectual and moral superiority. Above all, he must be a great Christian, knowing his religion, honouring it in his life, defending it by his activities, spreading it by his example in everyvirtue.”

In 1891 Camille was elected president of the Association of the Employers of the North. A noteworthy conference was one at which Camille dealt with the wage contract and just demands of the workers. He insisted on a living wage. Moreover, he insisted on other demands, which, in his factory, were satisfied by co-operative associations. This assistance he said, was not given as charity, but as a right. His ideas were opposed as being too radical. A split threatened. Finally, it was decided to lay the proposals before the Pope. His Holiness approved. And so the work went on.

But other works also the brothers Vrau accomplished, and they were many. Philibert was active in the promotion of Eucharistic Congresses. He fought for the defence of the Church in those very difficult days. He took control of newspapers, he established schools, he founded a University. He equipped clubs and hostels for the resident students. Camille attended to the medical faculty. This, perhaps, an outstanding achievement-all due to the faith, initiative and organising power behind the name of Vrau.

Everything Catholic interested them, which is to say, everything human. They never wearied of inspiring, advising and encouraging. Working always with the approval of their Bishop, wherever there was work to be done, there were the brothers Vrau.

We cannot cover here the vast field of their labours. This indication must suffice. But they worked to the end. In 1905 death came to Philibert, and two years later for the great soul of Camille,

“The layman,” says Cardinal Newman, “is the measure of the Church,” and if you want to know how the Church measures the brothers Vrau, learn one thing more about them: Already the canonical process for their beatification, a step towards canonisation, has been opened.

These men, who lived in our time, who went among the poor and the destitute; men who were captains of industry, keen and successful; strong men of ability, men taken up with the fussy details of factory life, spinning thread and selling it; men who earned wealth, but men who saw the many-splendoured thing that is the Catholic Church, and who followed her command and used their goods for the benefit of their less fortunate fellows!

THE BISHOP

EMMANUEL BARON VON KETTELER

This is a brief sketch of William Emmanuel Baron von Ketteler, Bishop of Mainz, Germany, from 1850 to 1877, and illustrious as the pioneer of modern Christian social reform. His memory is cherished, half a century after his death, for a life spent in the interests of the workingman, so that the Catholics in Germany were stirred, into vigorous action on the social question, and. when, in 1870, the German centre was formed, the promotion of the Catholic programme was the central plank in its platform.

The modern Catholic social movement, which began about the middle of the last century, is not a new thing in the Catholic Church. It is but the manifestation of that divine power which the Church has of affecting profoundly and even of transforming the individual and society. It is as old as the Church itself. But different times are met by different methods, and the rise of modern industry calls for special action to combat its evils. The response of the Church to the needs of the time is one of those exciting romances of which her history is full.

It began in Germany. There, as elsewhere, the ugly blight of industrial capitalism in its greed and narrow selfishness had spread over the lives of the people. Mere wage-slavery was the lot of the workingman. But there was bound to be an awakening, and it came.

But with the awakening came conflict. Agitators sprang up before the people, and theories were offered on every hand for the solution of the problem. The Communist manifesto was published, grim even in its grotesque history and philosophy. Everywhere the new theories were hotly debated, and into the thick of the conflict came von Ketteler.

It. was in 1848, when the fight raged furiously, that Ketteler trumpeted a call that rose above the din and brought all men”s eyes upon him. At this time, pastor of a country parish, life was already showing the path he was to tread. While yet a lawyer, which profession he followed before his priesthood, he had said that his deal in life was to be placed in a position in which he could work for the moral and social good of the people. And now a priest, his dream was being realised. When drought, famine and typhoid settled on the land it is impossible to estimate how much of his own and of his relatives’ money Ketteler spent while the famine lasted. Wagons of corn, bread and potatoes arrived at regular intervals, and no one but the pastor knew who paid the bills!

And now, in 1848, the social and political tempest that raged and threatened even the foundations of society drew the good pastor from the seclusion of his parish and set him in the midst of the turmoil. He could not remain a spectator in such a struggle. He gave his services to the people, and was elected to the National Assembly at Frankfort. But, he said, “only religious motives induced me to take the step.” Hardly had he taken his seat when the streets of the city were soaked in the blood of revolution. Two of the deputies were set upon and murdered. At the graveside Ketteler preached the funeral oration. He preached a sermon which cut to the marrow. On the same day he made his first speech in the Assembly. A new voice was heard in the land, and men stood and listened.

Two weeks later the first of the now famous Catholic Congresses met in Mainz, the mass meeting of which has become historic in the history of the Catholic Church and the history of Catholic social reform work. Ketteler spoke these words: “Allow me to suggest a task for the immediate future-the task of religion in regard to industrial conditions. The most difficult question, which no legislation, no form of government has been able to solve, is the social question. The difficulty, the vastness, the urgency of this question fills me with the greatest joy. It is not, indeed, the distress, the wretchedness of my brothers that affords me this joy, but the fact that it must now become evident which Church bears within it the power of divine truth. The world will see that to the Catholic Church is reserved the definite solution of the social question, for the State, with all its legislative machinery, has not the power to solve it. . . .”

And Ketteler brought the Congress to a dramatic close. At the end there was a banquet, and there were many toasts. Ketteler rose and called for cheers. They were cheers for the poor. “I do not ask you to empty a glass of wine to the health of the poor: I invite you to work with your heart and hand for the welfare of the poor, to stand by poverty with a helping hand.” And the cheers, which thundered at that speech, started an echo that rang round the Catholic world and beyond it. And men hear it to this day.

On Ketteler’s return to Frankfort he was invited to preach a series of sermons at the Cathedral of Mainz. He preached six momentous sermons on the “Great Social Questions of the Day.” They caused a stir. They were discussed in the taverns. “To Ketteler belongs the undying honour,” said a famous sociologist, “of having met the manifesto of the Communists with a programme of Christian sociology that stands unsurpassed to this day!”

Said Ketteler in his first sermon: “We cannot speak of our time, much less understand it, without coming back upon our social conditions. One may attach ever so much importance to political questions, but the real difficulty of our situation does not lie in them. Even with the best form of government we have not work, we have not clothing, we have not bread and shelter for our poor. Whilst the leaders and seducers of the people aim only at getting hold of the reins of government, the poor people themselves hope for a betterment of their material lot. The masses still believe in the promises of their leaders; believe that a new form of government will free them from their present misery. But when once they see that neither liberty of the press, not the right of association, not popular assemblies, nor clever turns of speech, nor popular sovereignty are able to feed the hungry, to clothe the naked, to comfort the sorrowful, to nurse the sick, they will wreak vengeance on their seducers, and, in despair, stretch out their hands to other anchors of rescue.”

The sermons showed Ketteler to be master of his subject. They were the voice of a prophet. And to the prophet came honour. In March, 1850, Pope Pius IX appointed him Bishop of Mainz.

One can hardly imagine, much less write it down, the joy of the people at the news. Ketteler retired to prepare for his consecration by a good retreat. The people prepared to welcome him with all possible acclaim. He wished to enter his Cathedral quietly and without demonstration. But his modesty was denied. He was taken on board a steamer, with flags. It set off down the Rhine and the banks thronged with a joyous crowd. Bands played, salutes were fired and Protestant princes came out to welcome him. Mainz itself was dressed for a holiday. It gave glad welcome to this successor of St. Boniface, and in the night a torchlight parade to show its joy.

As we would expect, Bishop Ketteler set about his episcopal duties with characteristic thoroughness. It is not the purpose here to treat of his zeal for the purely spiritual welfare of his flock. That was his first care, and it was done well. But to his social programme he gave renewed energy.

We come now to the year 1869, and that year is the real birth of the Social Reform Movement. In that year there was a conference of Catholic Bishops at Fulda. To the conference Ketteler submitted a paper. It is interesting for us in our times of some sort of protective legislation for the workingman to learn what he suggested. He has a heading, which he calls “Legal Protection for the Workman.” Here are some of the points:

1. Prohibition of child labour in factories.

2. Limitation of working hours for lads employed in factories, in the interest of their corporal and intellectual welfare.

3. Separation of the sexes in the work shops.

4. Closing of unsanitary workshops.

5. Legal regulation of working days.

6. Sunday rest.

7. Obligation of caring for workmen, who, through no fault of their own, are temporarily or forever incapacitated for work

8. A law protecting and favouring cooperative associations of workmen.

9. Appointment by the State of factory inspectors.

The result of Fulda was immediate. There was appointed in each diocese a commission to enquire into the condition of the working classes. A joint report was to be drawn up and presented to the Bishops at the next conference. And the fact that the Catholic clergy of Germany have taken such a prominent part in social reform during the last forty years, and that there are so many able political economists among them, is due to the splendid initiative of the Bishop of Mainz at that historic conference at Fulda.

The whole burden of Ketteler’s teaching was that the remedy for our social ill is with the Catholic Church. That truth is more apparent today. He sounded that note insistently. But he did more. He gave from pulpit, from platform and in the press the principles which should govern men if their community is to prosper. He showed that in Christianity alone the workingman has hope. He showed that the Church had raised the worker from a state of despised slavery, in which she found him, to a dignity which is fast slipping from him, away from her care. She offers him the solicitude and organisation which she gave to the guilds of the Middle Ages. And the revival of the guild idea, shaped to modern conditions, taught Ketteler, is the solution for the future. And this, remember, he said before our modern trade unions, which are something like the Church’s idea, but which fall far short. She offers the worker security. “Whoever works for another,” said Ketteler, “and is forced to do so all his life, has a moral right to demand security for a permanent livelihood. Why should the toiler alone have to go to his work, day after day, haunted by the thought: “I do not know whether to-morrow I shall still have the wages on which my existence and the existence of my wife and children depend.” The wealthy capitalist finds protection a hundredfold in his capital, but the workingman must have no protection. Hence, the fierce abuse so persistently heaped on the trade guilds. I am far from pretending,” added Ketteler, “that the guild system had no weak points. Abuse crept in, but the system itself rested on a right principle, which should have been retained. The future of unionism belongs to Christianity. The ancient Christian corporations have been dissolved and a new building is to replace them. But this is only a wretched hut, built, on sand.”

Bishop Ketteler turned his attention to Socialism and Communism, and showed the falsity of doctrines merely material. He looked upon Socialism as an experiment, a logical outcrop from Liberalism, which makes the State supreme, marriage a civil contract and material gain the end of man. “If Liberalism were true,” he said, “I would be a Socialist. But it is not true.” And the experiment must fail.

“Christ proclaimed those very doctrines,” said the Bishop, “which men, who have turned their backs upon Him and derided Him, are now passing off as their own invention; “but He not only preached them He practised them in His life and showed us the way to make them part and parcel of our lives.” And how Catholics of Germany and surrounding countries put Christian teaching into practice shows us that Ketteler’s words were not thin air. Men have built in an incredible way upon the foundations which he laid. The fifty-eight great Catholic organisations in Germany devoted to social study are astonishing, even though the political power of the present moment has scattered much of it for the time being.

Thus there were Kolping societies, technical or vocational schools with a priest as spiritual father to them. There were 1770 societies, 280 of which had houses, providing 17,000 beds for lodgers and travellers. To the latter wer e given supper, bed and breakfast gratis. There were 600 libraries, 300 reading-rooms, choral, musical and dramatic sections. The Kolping instructors were workmen who took a practical and personal interest in each pupil. During the long unemployment crisis the Kolping societies were active in providing recreation, education and training for unemployed members. Employment exchanges were set up and recognised by the Government.

Again, there was the Catholic Labour League. Its members were workers of all ages, and it had a political character. One of its features was the secretariat for giving legal and other information to workers on pensions, insurance, compensation, and hundreds of other matters related to social legislation. There were four federations, one of which, the Cologne, numbered 200,000 members.

The Peasants” Union had to do with the land, and was an instrument of protection against the passing of rural property to the banks and money lenders. This Catholic work was so successful that Bismarck tried to suppress it. It protected the farmers, it promoted cooperative societies, it ran a paper, it gave free legal advice, it arranged credit, buying and selling, insurance and had an arbitration court to save costly litigation.

And, not least, was the Peo ple’s League. In 1924 it had close on 600,000 members. It had a social programme, a central bureau, at which were employed thirty-five men, nine of whom were scientific and literary collaborators, some being ecclesiastics and doctors in theology, others laymen and doctors in political economy. There was a printing house with a press, and a library of 70,000 books on social science and apologetics. There were lectures on practical sociology, special courses for artisans, workmen, businessmen, agriculturalists, schoolmasters, etc. And, in the German centre, “the Catholics of Germany possessed,” as Goyau remarks, “thanks to Ketteler, a social doctrine and a social platform.” This party it was that took the lead in social legislation, until its disappearance under the present regime.

This is how it worked. In 1877 the Centre came forward with a Labour Protection Bill. It was the first Bill of the kind ever placed on the table of the Reichstag, and in scope it was identical with Ketteler’s programme. The debate showed how far advanced was Ketteler and the programme he advocated. The Bill was objected to as being “a chapter from some medieval chronicle.” The Secretary of State wanted to know where, in a rational factory law, a place could be found for rest on Sunday, and Bismarck, the Chancellor, thought that all this business about the workingman’s health and factory inspectors would not solve anything, but would only hinder Germany in the race for the world’s markets.

And the comic press of Germany made the Bill a matter for satire.

The Bill was not passed then, but the Centre was determined. Not for nothing had it learned from Ketteler, and fifteen years later, after change upon change of government, Ketteler’s ideas received the sanction of law.

Like work has been done in France, Belgium, Switzerland and also in England. A notable work is the Malines Union, which is called “The International Union for Social Studies,” and which includes in its members the most distinguished Catholic scholars in the social and economic sphere. It issues a code of social principles which summarises and brings up to date the conclusions and recommendations of the best Catholic authorities in contemporary social problems.

All these things are achievement, and for them the world, Catholic and nonCatholic, should hold Bishop Ketteler’s name in benediction.

Yet men are asking for guidance. They confess that they are lost. They are faced with the bitter truth that they are no longer able to follow the path of their own choosing. They are crying for a way out, and it is becoming more and more evident that the way out is the way back.

It is a hard medicine to swallow, and men are slow to take it. So they waste time in futile talk. But their councils, their conferences, their conversation and their leagues have to realise sooner or later and the sooner they realise it the better-that Christ’s coming was no idle advent. Christ’s words are not platitude. The Church is no museum of past things. There is a living Voice, speaking with authority, and the world will have to listen. The situation must be faced. It has to be realised.

There is no other way.

THE POPE LEO XIII

On the seventh of February, 1878, Pope Pius IX. died in the Vatican, and the whole world paused in its affairs and turned to watch Rome. “For now,” men said, “something is going to happen.” Storm had gathered over the See of Peter. In the darkness of the night the remains of the late Pontiff were carried to their resting place outside the walls of the city. The enemies of the Church saw in the secret, midnight procession a symbol. They shouted after the few, sad carriages and pelted them with stones. “Here,” they cried, “is an end of the Popes. The Cardinals cannot be allowed to elect another. The Government will take possession of the Vatican. . . . The lamp has flickered into darkness; it shall never be relit.” And, indeed, if you know the history of the closing years of the gentle Pius IX, darkness had settled on the waters. The Bark of Peter seemed hidden in the storm.

Our grandfathers remember the time.

Europe seethed with revolution. Italy herself was tossed with passionate political conflict. Religious and anti-clerical hatred gathered forces against the Papacy. The Papal States, territory which the Popes had governed over a thousand years, from the days of Pepin and Charlemagne, were invaded and the Pope driven into the garden of the Vatican. Hardly a Pontiff so gentle as Pius IX; hardly a Pontiff who withstood such storms. And, in the midst of it, he died.

And now it was thought that something unusual would take place. The Quirinal, wherein the last four Popes had been elected, was in the hands of the “Revolution.’ It was expected that it would now seize the Vatican itself. But the usual thing occurred. Another successor to St. Peter sat in the ancient Chair. He took the name of Leo XIII. and, if men looked for a symbol, well, here was one: the motto of the new Pontiff was “Lumen in Coelo”-light in the heavens. On his ancient family escutcheon there shone a bright, solitary star. And that star, in our dark days of political and economic ill, is the one guiding light.

Pope Leo XIII., whose family name was Pecci, was born on the 2nd of March, 1810, at the small town of Carpineto, an eagle’s nest of a place, pitched high above the Valley of Latium, between two gigantic rocks. His parents were of the nobility, and if there be any who still read the books of Lord Lytton they may be interested to learn-as may be the lovers of Wagner that the young Joachim Pecci was a descendant, through his mother, of the celebrated Cola di Rienzi, the Last of the Tribunes. Significant this for Rienzi is called the friend of the people.

Bred on that lofty mountain-crest, he would have about him through life, we would expect, ever the air of the hills man lean, straight, broad of shoulder, bright and piercing of eye. There, in the hill country he acquired that alert vigour which characterised him not only mentally, but bodily, so that the intimates of his household said of him, even in his late years, “The Pope always runs.”

His early education was in the hands of the Jesuits. His career was brilliant. From the first, a keen relish for classic literature distinguished him, likewise a happy gift of composition. He wrote prose and verse, carrying off the first honours in Latin and Greek, and shaping that style which was afterwards to earn for him the reputation of being one of the first Latinists of the time. Yet he was not one-sided. His masters saw to that. His intellect was developed, as well as his imagination. To his honours in the classics he added first prizes for physics, chemistry and mathematics. And even greater success followed him into philosophy and theology.

Nor was his life all study. His disposition was lively. He sharpened His pen at epigrams and charades. He spent his holidays in his native hills, hunting and fowling.

The time arrived when the young student entered upon his studies for the priesthood. He entered an academy for ecclesiastics who were destined for a diplomatic or administrative career under the Pontifical Government. In the year 1837 he was ordained priest.

The brilliant career of the young Monsignor had set him apart as a promising administrator, and almost immediately he was appointed Governor of Benevento. Here he gave an example of practical government. His province was but 46 miles in extent, but it was important enough for Talleyrand to have desired it, and to have been installed there as prince by Napoleon during the Emperor’s temporary possession of the States of the Pope.

After the withdrawal of the French, government was well-nigh impossible. Secret societies, smugglers and brigands abounded, terrorising the countryside, taxing the towns, blackmailing the rich, plundering widely. Face to face with these well-organised bands of desperate men came Monsignor Pecci.

He succeeded. His pontifical troops made a sudden and concerted attack upon the strongholds of the outlaws, and the people were overjoyed to see one morning the most dreaded chief of all led in chains through the streets.

Strict justice was done. Brigandage and smuggling disappeared, agriculture flourished, taxation was lessened, roads were built, order and security restored. The third year of the young prelate’s rule saw a transformed State.

So successful was he at Benevento that he was transferred to Perugia. There he was equally successful. And shortly, at the age of thirty-three, he was appointed Papal Nuncio at the Court of Brussels.

His stay at Brussels must be passed over quickly. Sufficient to say that he was appreciated as a statesman and as a churchman. But one incident stands out with peculiar interest to English-speaking people-the visit of the future Pope to England. Leo I., the King of the Belgians, a shrewd judge of men, estimated the Archbishop highly and made of him a close friend and adviser. It is interesting, too, to learn that that fascinating figure, the Baron Stockmar, who managed so adroitly the back-stage movements of royalty, also prized Archbishop Pecci. We may be sure that the King’s niece, Victoria of England, was frequently discussed. Eventually, warmly recommended by the King, the Nuncio visited England and was received there by the Queen and her Consort with a special welcome, due to the friend of her uncle, Leopold. In England, the Archbishop stayed a month. Next he returned to Rome, whither he was recalled; thence to be sent once more to Perugia; this time as its Bishop.

Here was another field of work-the care of the pastor, rather than the official duties of the diplomat. And at Perugia he spent thirty years. It was a long time, but it was not the secluded labour that you may imagine. It was an eventful, anxious rule; a swift moving drama of tragedy. For Pius IX had succeeded Gregory XVI, and through the troubled reign of Pius there was Perugia and its Bishop set in the path of the invader. The freebooters of Garibaldi swept down from the north, taking Perugia in their sweep; committing all manner of massacre, sacrilege and outrage; and this but one of the cares on the shoulders of the Bishop. Perugia was a storm centre, and his hands were full. Nevertheless, he found opportunity between the struggles to give his attention to that social study which afterwards, as Pope, distinguished him. He founded savings banks for the people, stores for their grain against the lean times, night schools for artisans, and reinstituted those Monti di Pieta, in glorious imitations of which are familiar to Australian people.

And here at Perugia came the honour of the Cardinalate.

Meanwhile, Pius lX, from the throne of Peter, saw, one by one, the States of the Church invaded and annexed. In 1860 he was left but one small province and the ancient Papal city of Rome. In 1870 that, too, was taken. The Papal Palace of the Quirinal was appropriated; the Vatican alone left as a precarious refuge for the helpless Pontiff. There he retreated and made protest, and, protesting, he died.

Almost immediately the Conclave was held. The Cardinal Bishop of Perugia was given the Fisherman’s Ring. Leo XIII commenced his reign.

It was a troubled world that Leo looked out upon. The spirit of revolution was in the air. The working classes, fretting under inhuman and slave conditions of the new industrial era, were restless. It is no wonder. The authority of governments was either set at naught or seemed inept. The ancient framework of Christianity, as men saw it, was decayed and tottering.

Leo lost no time. He set about writing his first Encyclical-his letter to the world. It is significant, thoughtful and to the point. He diagnoses the world’s sickness, and everyone, be he Catholic or Protestant, has here something to think about if he is interested in preserving Christianity in Europe.

“From the very beginning of Our Pontificate we have before our eyes the sad spectacle of the evils which assail mankind from every side. There is a widespread subversion of the cardinal truths, on which the very foundations of human society repose. There is a wicked disposition of men’s minds, which is impatient of all lawful power. There is a perpetual ferment of dissension, begetting internal strife, cruel and bloody wars. There is a contempt of the laws of morality and justice; an insatiable yearning for the transitory goods of earth, carried to the insane pitch of causing many unhappy persons to lay violent hands on themselves. There is an inconsiderate administration, a squandering, an upsetting of the public property and revenues, and there is the brazen impudence of men, who, when they deceive their fellows most, make them believe that they are the promoters of patriotism, of liberty, of right of every kind. There is, in fine, a pestilential virus, which creeps into the vital organs and members of human society, which allows them no rest, and which forebodes for the social order new revolutions ending in calamitous results!”

Good words these, which apply even more so to our own day.

And what is the cause? Simply this. The Pope continues: “Men have despised and rejected the holy and august authority of the Church, which, in the name of God, is placed over the human race and is the avenger and protector of all legitimate authority.”

That is not Papal platitude. It is the assertion of the truth that the history of civilisation is the history of the Church; a truth to which even the Rationalist and the Protestant give testimony. But, at least, everybody, whatever he or she may think of the Catholic Church, cannot but admit that it does represent an immense moral force. Therefore, what the Pope has to say is worthy of attention. If he claims a remedy, it is worth knowing the prescription.

Yet it is an astonishing thing that men who have eyes to see, men who are sincerely interested in the condition of the people, do not take the trouble to find out what suggestion the Church offers-that Church which knows mankind so well and has achieved such giant things for humanity throughout its long life. Yet of all men the Pope is most expert; of all men he ought to know. For, remember, he is the inheritor of the experience of two thousand years. For two thousand years a Pope has sat upon the Throne of Peter, looking out upon the world. He holds the helm which has steered our civilisation through its long, stormy history. And, surely, since he has brought mankind, as even Protestants testify, from the dark lands of paganism, through stress and shoal, to the better society that we know, surely his experience is of value.

Surely his logs, surely his charts are worth inspection.

Especially if they can be had for the negligible sum of twopence.

Now, if I may digress, to give point to what I write, let me put up as an illustration, Benedict XV., the Pope of the war years. He appealed for peace and was ignored. He addressed a Letter to the heads of the belligerent peoples. In that Letter he laid down bases for a just and lasting peace. Again he was ignored. Then, in the course of time, when the treaty of peace was drawn up by the nations, he was not only ignored another time, but was actually debarred from the proceedings. With the exception of the League of Nations, which was an attempt at arbitration, not one of the Pope’s Christian principles was incorporated. So followed the unrest and distrust, of post-war years to our own day. Now we see men, forced to learn by their own bitter experience, suggesting the principles which the Pope of twenty years ago suggested as solutions of the difficulty-the condonation of war debts, the reduction of armaments, and others. Of the Pope”s practical insistence on the abolition of compulsory military service we hear hardly a word. For they have no authority to effect these things. So they build their guns again and bolster up their artificial frontiers, and are afraid.

Now, in regard to Leo XIII, he is not less helpful upon social problems, and they are not less acute.

Particularly, Pope Leo XIII is the Pope of the workingman. His most famous Encyclical is on the “Condition of Labour.” That Letter has become known, among those who have made an adequate study of social writings, as the Magna Charta of the workingman. It is the workingman’s text-book, and he should carry it in his pocket. He should have it by heart. Yet in the perplexities, industrial and economic, of the day, while the thoughtful workman and social reformer screws his courage to the reading of newspaper leaders and all manner of bewildering handbooks, and still more bewildering pamphlets, the little Letter of Leo, with its penetrating intelligence and welcome lucidity, is hardly read. And men say, with incredible ignorance: What does the Church offer the workingiman?

At the time when Leo XIII wrote his famous Letter upon the “Condition of Labour” in 1891, many things, accepted now as ideal, were regarded as revolutionary. The new economic conditions had divided society into two classes. “The first,” to quote the present Holy Father, commenting on Leo’s Letter, “small in numbers, enjoyed practically all the comforts, so plentifully supplied by modern invention; the second class, comprising the immense multitude of workingmen, was made up of those who, oppressed by dire poverty, struggled in vain to escape from the straits which encompassed them.

“This state of things,” continues Pope Pius, “was quite satisfactory to the wealthy! On the other hand, the working classes, victims of these harsh conditions, submitted to them with extreme reluctance!”

At last, Leo XIII, “urged,” as he said, “by the responsibility of the Apostolic Office,” startled the Christian world with the Voice of Christ.

And his Letter, as the Protestant, W. T. Stead, remarks, “for many a long day will serve as a text for the social reformer.”

Now, here is some of the Encyclical: “It has come to pass,” says the Pope at the outset, “that workingmen have been given over, isolated and defenceless, to the callousness of employers and the greed of unrestrained competition. The evil has been increased by rapacious usury, which, though more than once condemned by the Church, is, nevertheless, under a different form, but with the same guilt, still practised by avaricious and grasping men. And to this must be added the custom of working by contract, and the concentration of so many branches of trade in the hands of a few individuals so that a small number of very rich men have been able to lay upon the masses of the poor a yoke little better than slavery itself.”

That is not beating about the bush.

Then the Pope discusses the suggested remedy of the Socialists, who offer to solve the problem by transferring private property to the State. “But,” says Leo, “the proposals are so clearly futile, for all practical purposes, that, if they were carried out, the workingman would be the first to suffer. Moreover, they are emphatically unjust.” Pope Leo defends private ownership, which may seem to some a paradox, since the Socialists are correct in saying that in private ownership is set that iniquitous power which deprives the workingman of a decent, comfortable livelihood. But the Pope rightly points out that the iniquity of private ownership lies not in the use, but in the abuse, of it; an abuse which the Church has consistently condemned, but which has sprung up and got its stranglehold on society only since society has shaken off her authority.

But the right use of property, the Pope says, is the workingman’s protection. It is the natural right of man. It gives security to the individual, to the family, to the State.

Leo goes on to stress that capital and labour are mutually indispensable, but that the Church is necessary to preserve harmony by reminding each class of its duties to the other, especially the duty of justice. Thus, she teaches the workman “to carry out honestly and well all equitable arrangements freely made; never to injure capital . . . never to employ violence . . . never to engage in disorder.” On the other hand, he says: “The rich must religiously refrain from cutting down the workingman’s earnings, either by fraud, or force, or usurious dealing, and with the more reason because the poor man is weak and unprotected!”

And many things the Pope treats—the family, as the original and important unit of society; the State, its rights, its duties and its limitations; its obligations towards the worker; the definite obligation of using surplus wealth for the benefit of one’s fellows; the evils of excessive taxation; workmen’s associations or trade unions; strikes, their causes and effects.

In condemning competition, free and unrestrained, the thing falsely echoed among men as the soul of trade, he touches the spot.

And he suggests that in the guild idea, blessed by the Church, lies the remedy.

And he shows how through history, as Cobbett, the Protestant, says, the Church “provided, and provided amply, for all the wants of the poor and the distressed!”

But the most important part of the Letter is that upon the just wage and hours of work. “The first concern of all,” it runs, “is to save the poor workers from the cruelty of grasping speculators, who use human beings as mere instruments for making money. It is neither justice or humanity so to grind men down with excessive labour as to stupify their minds and wear out their bodies.” Pope Leo makes suggestions for hours, proportionate to the kind of work engaged in; lays down rules for the employment of women and children, and stresses the need for proper rest and recreation.

Then, as to wages, this is very important today.

We are told,” says the Pope, “that wages are fixed by free consent, and, therefore, the employer, when he pays what was agreed upon, has done his part and is not called upon for anything further. The only way, it is said, in which injustice could happen would be if the master refused to pay the whole of the wages, or the workman would not complete the work undertaken.

“But this mode of reasoning is by no means convincing . . . for there are important considerations which it leaves out of view altogether. To labour is to exert oneself for the sake of procuring what is necessary for the purposes of life, and, most of all, for self preservation. . . . Therefore, a man’s labour has two notes or characters. First of all, it is personal, for the exertion of individual power belongs to the individual who puts it forth, employing this power for that personal profit for which it is given.

“Secondly, a man’s labour is necessary, for without the results of labour a man cannot live. Now, if we were to consider labour merely so far as it is personal, doubtless it would be within the workman’s right to accept any rate of wages whatever, for, in the same way as he is free to work or not, so he is free to accept a small remuneration or even none at all. But this,” says the Pope firmly, “is a mere abstract supposition; the labour of the workingman is not only a personal attribute, but it is necessary, and this makes all the difference. The preservation of life is the bounden duty of each and all, and to fail therein is a crime. It follows that each one has a right to procure what is required in order to live, and, the poor can procure it in no other way than by work and wages.

“Let it be granted then,” continues Leo, “that, as a rule, workman and employer should make free agreements, and, in particular, should freely agree as to wages. Nevertheless, there is a dictate more imperious and more ancient than any bargain between man and man-that the remuneration must be enough to support the wage-earner in reasonable and frugal comfort.” That, I might add, includes sufficiency for a wife and family. “Now,” says the Pope, “if, through necessity or fear of a worse evil, the workman accepts conditions because an employer or contractor will give him no better, he is the victim of force and injustice.”

And, though conditions are better now than when those words were written, there is still urgent need for them to be made a basis of legislation.

And so the Letter runs on. “If a workman’s wages be sufficient to enable him to maintain himself, his wife and his children in reasonable comfort, he will not find it difficult, if he is a sensible man, to study economy, and he will not fail to put by a little property.” The consequence of this, the Pope maintains, is that property will become more equitably divided, the gulf between vast wealth and deep poverty will be filled, and a true patriotic spirit will dwell in a community to whom their fatherland is something more than a name.

The assistance of the Church, says the final paragraph, will never be wanting, and for its pastors there is a careful word that each will throw himself into the conflict with “all the energy of his mind and all the strength of his endurance”; by every means to “strive for the good of the people.”

All this that men “be persuaded that the primary thing needful is to return to real Christianity, in the absence of which all the plans and devices of the wisest will be of little avail.”

Truly, poor humanity, particularly oppressed humanity, has no greater friend than the ceaseless watcher in the watch-tower of the world. The Pope’s day is long. He rises early. The Sacrifice of the Mass begins his working day, and there is no harder worker than he. Till the close of the day he is busy with affairs of heaven and earth, with his Ambassadors, his secretaries, his Bishops and his people from every small corner of the world. And at night, when the busy day is done and the Papal household retires to rest, when the windows of the Vatican are darkened, one by one, the light shines in the private study of the Pope, where he watches and prays, thinks and writes for the welfare of the world.

We have his Letters, his Encyclicals, the fruits of his labour. Just as St. Peter before him sent his epistles, or Letters, from that very same city, exhorting and blessing the flock under his care, so his successor still writes, still exhorts, still blesses. And the burden of his writing is ever the same:

“There is no other name under heaven given to men, wherewith we must be saved, save the name of Our Lord Jesus Christ.” “ Neither is there salvation in any other.”

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Five Pre-Marriage Instructions

ON THE CATHOLIC RELIGION

BY REV. DR. RUMBLE, M.S.C

INDEX

FOREWORD

By His Eminence the Cardinal Archbishop of Sydney.

Because the requests came from so many Priests with such insistence, Rev. Dr. Rumble undertook to prepare a series of Pre-marriage Instructions that would conform to the mind of the Fathers of the Fourth Plenary Council of Australia and New Zealand.

Dr. Rumble was particularly well equipped to perform this task. Besides knowing with precision the teachings of the Catholic Church, he, as few others, knows the distorted versions that many erroneously believe to be the teachings of the Church. Not only can he explain simply and clearly what the Church really teaches, but he can teach it so as to render it interesting and intelligible to anyone who is willing to listen.

This booklet that he has prepared may be employed as a guide by Priests who wish to profit by Dr. Rumble’s unique experience.

They will find in it sufficient matter to enable them to fulfil the requirements of the Decrees of the Plenary Council: to instruct without wearying, to interest without satiating and, please God, to engender the determination in their hearers to know love and serve God as God Himself desires.

Sydney, 22nd June, 1946. N. T. CARDINAL GILROY, Archbishop of Sydney.

INTRODUCTION

When a non-Catholic desires to marry a Catholic, but does not desire to become a Catholic himself, the Catholic Church requires, as a condition for the granting of a dispensation for such a marriage, that he receives at least five instructions about the Catholic religion.

The reason for this law is, not that the non-Catholic may be induced to alter his convictions, but that he may understand what the Catholic is expected to believe and do in the practising of her own religion.

The visits to a priest by such a non-Catholic are deeply appreciated, and his personal convictions are fully respected.

His visits are deeply appreciated, for he comes in deference to the law of a Church whose religious authority he does not acknowledge, as an act of generosity towards the Catholic party who does profess the Catholic Faith. His personal convictions are fully respected, for the Catholic Church herself insists that every man is obliged to be true to his own conscience.

At the same time, it is very much to the advantage of the non-Catholic to receive these instructions.

For its own sake, it is good to have some knowledge of the most widespread religion in the world, and of a Church which is the oldest existing institution in Christendom. Additional knowledge is always a good thing to have.

Again, the non-Catholic who loves a Catholic girl, wants above all to make her future happy. To understand the religion which means so much to her will contribute greatly to this, for the knowledge of her beliefs makes it possible to avoid even unconsciously wounding her feelings in matters of the highest importance to her, and the realization of her religious obligations in practice prepares for her fulfilment of duties which might otherwise seem unnecessarily irksome and inconvenient to one whose ways are not the same.

And these five visits are surely a small price to pay to enable the Church to grant a dispensation for a marriage in which one hopes to find a life-long happiness for himself even as he hopes to bring that same blessing into the life of another.

Let us, then, turn to the first basic teachings of the Catholic religion.

INSTRUCTION ONE

EXISTENCE OF GOD

The Catholic Church teaches that the existence of God is known to us both by reason and by revelation. When we pick up a book we know that blind chance did not arrange the words and the chapters. It had a human author. Moreover, on reading it, we find out a good deal about the author. An evil book reflects an evil mind; a good book reflects a good mind.

So, by reading the book of nature, we learn that there is a God, and much about Him.

But we are not left merely to our own study of the universe and to our own conclusions.

By revelation God tells us, “I am the Lord thy God”; and gives as the greatest commandment, “Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart and soul and mind and strength.”

God alone exists in His own right. All else has a “borrowed existence,” dependent upon Him. Our life is not our own, to do with it as we please. He who made us owns us, and has the right to lay down the conditions according to which we must use the life He gave us. That principle is of supreme importance in the Catholic religion. Our first duty is obedience to the Will of God.

THE HOLY TRINITY

However, God did not content Himself merely with revealing to us His existence and supreme claims upon us as our Creator. Admitting us to a still closer friendship and intimacy with Himself, He has told us by revelation of His own personal interior life, giving us the doctrine of the Holy Trinity.

The word “Trinity” means “Tri-Unity,” and it is used to express the doctrine that, in the unity of one God there are three Divine Persons, the Father, the Son and the Holy Ghost.

So Christ Himself, Who came to teach us about God, commanded that we should be baptized in the “name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost.”

This doctrine is a mystery, for although we understand what a human nature and a human person are, we do not fully understand nature and personality as they are in God, nor how the three Divine Persons can share one and the same Divine Nature.

But the doctrine is not a contradiction. It is above reason, but not against reason. We do not say that there is only one Divine Nature, yet three Divine Natures. Nor do we say that there is only one Person, yet three Persons. We would contradict ourselves if we spoke like that. What we do say is that in God there is one Divine Nature, yet three Persons. It is mysterious; but it is not a contradiction. And we know the fact only by revelation.

MAN

When we turn to man, we say that man is one of God’s creatures, consisting of a body and of a soul, the soul being made to the image and likeness of God in so far as it is an immortal spirit endowed with intelligence and freewill.

Being immortal, a man must live on after death, whether he likes it or not; being intelligent and free, his future and eternal destiny depends upon his own choice.

If we wish to attain eternal happiness with God in heaven, our choice must be to know God, to love Him, because we know Him, and to serve Him because we love Him.

But, having freewill, we are able, though we have not the moral right, to repudiate these duties to God, and make wreckage of our eternal destiny.

So the question Christ put to us all can never lose its force: “What does it profit a man, if he gain the whole world and suffer the loss of his soul?”-Matt. 16: 26.

RELIGION

Our relationship with God finds particular expression in the practice of religion.

Religion is a form of justice which impels us to render to God, both privately as individuals and publicly as social beings, the worship and acknowledgement we owe to Him.

As a form of justice, religion is concerned with what is right, not with what is merely pleasant or useful.

Catholics, therefore, look upon religion not as something optional, or as a kind of pastime, amusement or luxury, but as a duty. They do not practise it when they feel like it and neglect it when they do not. God is still God, whatever our variable feelings may be. And so long as we have the health and strength, we fulfil our religious duties to God according to the laws of the Catholic religion because it is right to do so.

This sense of duty and obligation where religion is concerned may seem strange to non-Catholics who have been brought up differently, but allowance must be made for the fact that it is the Catholic conviction.

THE BIBLE

According to the Catholic Church, part of our knowledge of God’s revelation is contained in the Bible. And all that the Bible does contain is the very Word of God, and infallibly true.

Since, therefore, the Catholic Church believes in the truth of the Bible, she could not, on her own principles, teach any doctrine opposed to the Bible. She is obliged to make sure that all her teachings and practices are in accordance with it, and not in any way opposed to it.

But she does not hold that the whole of God’s revelation is contained in the Bible; nor that the Bible alone, privately interpreted by each reader, is a safe and sufficient guide for Christians.

The Bible does not pretend to contain all that Christ taught. Thus St. John tells us: “There are many other things which Jesus did which, if they were written every one, the world itself, I think, would not be able to contain the books that should be written.”-Jn. 21: 25.

Christ taught His apostles by word of mouth, and sent them to teach all nations all things whatsoever He had made known to them. He sent them to teach others as He had taught them. He never directly ordered a line of Scripture to be written, nor insisted on the distribution of Bibles.

The teachings of Christ and of the apostles which are not written in the New Testament have been handed down to us under Divine protection in Christian Tradition.

But the Bible is not only incomplete as a source of Christian doctrine. It is not safe as a guide interpreted for himself by each reader. Private interpretation has, in practice, led to hundreds of conflicting sects. God could never have intended that method, for had He done so, He would have led all sincere readers to the same truth.

Catholics, therefore, hold that, whilst Scripture and Tradition are the remote sources of Christian doctrine, the immediate guide for Christians is the teaching authority of the Catholic Church. She sets out clearly for us the teaching contained in Scripture and Tradition; and by adhering to all that their Church believes and teaches Catholics of all nations are united in one and the same religion, free from all error and uncertainty.

SIN

Since religion teaches us that we must serve God, it necessarily forbids the violation of God’s Will by sin. Just as a man who violates the law of the land is a criminal in the eyes of the State, so sin is a crime against the

Law of God. And it can be defined as any wilful thought, word, deed or omission contrary to the Will of God. In the Bible God gives us the great basic principles of the moral law in the Ten Commandments, which are as follow:

1. I am the Lord Thy God. Thou shall not have strange gods before Me; (nor shall you make graven images to worship them).

2. Thou shall not take the name of the Lord Thy God in vain.

3. Remember, Thou keepest holy the Sabbath day.

4. Honour thy father and thy mother.

5. Thou shall not kill.

6. Thou shall not commit adultery.

7. Thou shall not steal.

8. Thou shall not bear false witness against thy neighbour.

9. Thou shall not covet thy neighbour’s wife.

10. Thou shall not covet thy neighbour’s goods.

NOTE -Protestants number their Commandments differently from this Catholic list, making two Commandments out of words which Catholics regard as all belonging to the First Commandment. As a result the Catholic Second Commandment becomes the Protestant Third Commandment, the change continuing until finally the Catholic Ninth and Tenth Commandments are united by Protestants into one single Tenth Commandment. Naturally we hold that the Catholic division is more in accordance with the Commandments as intended by God.

By the violation of any of these Commandments sin is committed; and the sin may be either mortal or venial, just as crimes against State laws may be either capital or penal.

Mortal sins are those which are so grave that God’s love and friendship are forfeited, together with the life of divine grace within our souls. So we are told that “the wages of sin is death, but the grace of God life everlasting in Christ Jesus.”-Rom. 6: 23.

The guilt of mortal sin requires the violation of God’s law in a serious matter; clear knowledge of what we are doing; and the deliberate consent of the will to the evil thought, word or deed.

Venial sins are sins in which one or other of the above conditions are not present. They are sins, but of less gravity than mortal sin, not putting us beyond the pale of friendship, but still carrying with them their just penalties

We are obliged before God to repent of all sins we have ever committed. Christianity begins with the message: “Do penance, repent, for the Kingdom of God is at hand,” “Repent, and be baptized.”

Sorrow for sin should be second nature to us, and all should know the Act of Contrition. A brief form of this Act would be: “O my God! I am heartily sorry for having offended You, because You are all good. And I firmly resolve, by the help of Your grace, not to offend You again. Amen:”

MAN’S DESTINY

On earth, man is in a state of probation. Death puts an end to it. Immediately after death man’s soul is judged, and the soul must account to God for the good and evil accomplishedduring life. So Scripture tells us: “It is appointed unto man once to die, and after that the judgement.”-Heb. 9: 27.

As a result of that judgement, Catholics know that if the soul is QUITE UNFIT for Heaven it will go to Hell; if NOT QUITE FIT for Heaven it will go to Purgatory until it is fit; if QUITE FIT for Heaven it will be admitted at once to its eternal happiness.

The idea of Hell is not popular nowadays. But it is both treason to God and treachery to man to deny its existence.

Christ would not have died on Calvary to save us from a Hell which He knew to be non-existent.

He would have been the last in the world to attempt to frighten men with threats of a fate which He knew to be impossible. Yet He said, “I will show you whom you shall fear. Fear, all you, Him who, after He has killed, has power to cast into Hell.”-Lk. 12: 5. And He tells us that the sentence upon the wicked at the last day will be: “Depart from Me, all you cursed, into everlasting fire prepared for the devil and his angels.”-Matt. 25: 41.

Purgatory is a temporary state in which souls who have died in the grace of God, but have not expiated their sins in this life, are purified by suffering and thus fitted for the Vision of God in Heaven.

In Scripture we are told that “nothing defiled” can enter Heaven.-Apoc. (Rev.) 21: 27. Christ speaks of sins forgiven “neither in this world nor in the world to come.”-Matt. 12: 32. And, again, of souls not released from prison until they have paid “the last farthing.”-Matt. 5: 26. St. Paul speaks ofthose who will be saved, “but so as by fire.”- I Cor. 3: 15. And the Old Testament tells us that it is “a holy and wholesome thought to pray for the dead that they may be loosed from their sins.”-II Mach. 12: 46. It is of no use to pray for souls in Hell. There is no need to pray for those in Heaven. Prayer for the dead presupposes Purgatory.

Heaven is the eternal state of happiness we must strive at all costs to attain in the end. Christ declares that “the just will enter into everlasting life.”-Matt. 25: 46. He bids us “be glad and rejoice, for your reward is very great in Heaven.”-Lk. 6: 23. Those who attain to Heaven will see and possess God in perfect and uninterrupted love. And this will mean eternal Light and Peace and Happiness.

With these convictions, Catholics realize that the most important thing in life is to heed the advice of Christ, and before all else, to “seek first the Kingdom of God, and His justice.”

INSTRUCTION TWO

In our last Instruction we saw the Catholic doctrine about God and man, about religion as the bond between them, and about the Bible as a source of religious knowledge.

We also considered sin as the one thing that can come between God and us, forfeiting Heaven altogether if it be mortal sin and we die without repenting of it; detaining us in Purgatory if, having repented of it, we die without having expiated it during this life.

But if Heaven is possible for us at all, it is due to the work of Jesus Christ, to the consideration of whom we must now turn.

THE DIVINITY OF CHRIST

Holy Scripture teaches us that God, Who in past ages spoke to men by the prophets, has now spoken to us “by His Son, whom He has appointed heir of all things, by whom, also, He made the world.”-Heb. 1: 1.

The Catholic Church teaches that the Son of God existed as the Second Person of the Most Holy Trinity from eternity. At a given point in time, some nearly 2,000 years ago, that Son of God, whilst still retaining His participation in the Divine Nature, took to Himself a human nature, being born into this world of the Blessed Virgin Mary.

In that human nature He lived, suffered and died, and triumphed over death by His resurrection, for our salvation.

At His incarnation, the Son of God took the name of Jesus, which means Saviour; and Christ, which means the anointed or consecrated one.

In Jesus Christ, therefore, there is one Divine Person and two natures, the one Divine, the other human. And we believe Jesus Christ to be true God and true man.

Thus, as one and the same Person, Jesus could speak now in virtue of His uncreated Divine Nature, as when He said: “I and the Father are one.” (Jn. 10: 30); now in virtue of His created human nature, as when He said: “The Father is greater than I” (Jn. 14: 28).

If Jesus Christ is the Eternal Son of God, we owe Him absolute allegiance and obedience. If He has issued certain instructions to men and imposed certain obligations upon us, and if He is to be our eternal judge, as Scripture declares, then surely we must try to find out and to fulfil what He commands.

And one of the very first things He demands is that we hear and obey the Church He established to continue His work in this world.

THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH

That Christ intended and established the Church is clear from a study of the Gospels.

He Himself described His mission in the words, “I must preach the Kingdom of God, for therefore am I sent.”—Lk. 4: 43.

That Kingdom He identifies with His Church. For when He said, “I will build My Church,” He at once told St.

Peter, “and I will give to you the keys of the kingdom.”-Matt. 16: 18.

Christ, therefore, came with the intention of establishing a kingdom called the Church in this world. That Church will be a visible organization. “A city set on a mountain cannot be hid.”-Matt. 5: 14. To be officials in that Church, Christ chose the twelve apostles (Lk. 6: 13), and sent them with His own mission

(Jn. 20: 21) to teach (Matt. 28: 20) to rule (Matt. 18: 17–18) and to sanctify the faithful (Jn. 15: 16). As the headof this Church on earth He appoints St. Peter. “You are Peter, and upon this rock I will build My

Church.”-Matt. 16: 18.

He declares that He Himself will protect His Church “all days till the end of the world.”-Matt. 28: 20. And He gives that Church His own authority, saying, “He who hears you, hears Me” (Lk. 10: 16); and, again, “If a man will not hear the Church, let him be as the heathen.”-Matt. 18: 17.

But Christ not only took great care in establishing His Church. He made sure that it would have certain signs, marks or notes, by which it could easily be recognized as true, to the exclusion of all other religious bodies. Those outstanding signs are four. The true Church will be One, Holy, Catholic and Apostolic. The true Church must be One. Christ said,”I will build My Church,” not My “Churches.” He said that there would be “one fold under one shepherd.” (Jn. 10: 16). The true Church, then, must be one united body or having the same faith, worship, and organization throughout the world.

The true Churchmust be a Holy Church. Christ came to sanctify men. “For them do I sanctify Myself,” He said,

“that they also may be sanctified in truth.” (Jn. 17: 19). And for that same work He sent His Church. The true Church will be holy in her Founder, Jesus Christ; in her teachings and worship; in the Christian virtue of all who put her teachings into practice; and in her devotion to works of, charity to all human beings in need. There is no guarantee that all who profess to belong to the true Church will put her teachings into practice. Knowing the weakness of human nature, Christ Himself predicted, “It must needs be that scandals will come.” and He compared His Church to a net

“holding good and bad fish.” But bad fish do not mean a bad net. The Church is Holy, and cannot inspire anything but holiness. The bad fish are those who do not live up to her teachings, not those who do.

The true Church must be Catholic, i.e., universal. Christ established His Church for “all nations,” not for any particular nation only. Remaining one and the same Church, it will be adapted to all times, all places, all types of people.

Finally, the true Church will be Apostolic. Christ promised that He would protect His Church “all days” from its commencement till the end of the world. The true Church, therefore, will reach right back through history to the

Apostles themselves, upon whom Christ built His Church in the first place. It must have been in the world all days since then, be here now, and continue till the end of time.

THE CATHOLIC CHURCH

Catholics are absolutely convinced that theirs is this one true Church. The Catholic Church alone manifests that unity, holiness, universality and apostolic continuity which Christ intended.

As we go back through history, looking for the Church Christ personally established, we find that all other Churches disappear at various times subsequent to Christ, except the Catholic Church. Of all other Churches the names of the human founders are known. If Christ did not establish the Catholic Church no one can say who did.

Believing their Church to be the one true Church, Catholics acknowledge its Divine authority. The spirit of obedience to the laws of their Church is, therefore, a characteristic of all good Catholics. And, after all, the very essence of genuine religion must be obedience. We went from God by disobedience ; the road back must be by obedience; and if religion is to get us back to God, its very essence must be obedience.

But authority in the Catholic Church has no other purpose than the good of souls, every teaching and law being directed towards the promotion of true charity under its double aspect-the love of God and of one’s neighbour for the love of God.

THE CHURCH INFALLIBLE

If Christ established one permanent Church to which we should all belong, it must always be possible to belong to it without fear of being led astray in matters of faith and morals.

Christ could not command us to hear and obey the Church if His Church itself were a guide liable to be mistaken!

Moreover, He said, “I will build My Church, and the gates of hell will not prevail against it.”-Matt. 16: 18. Were the Church not infallible, the forces of evil and error could, and would have prevailed against it.

We believe, therefore, that Christ made the Catholic Church safe for Christians, guaranteeing its infallibility.

THE POPE

The supreme head of the Catholic Church on earth is the Pope. In the name of Christ, and as successor of St. Peter, he is the supreme Bishop over the whole Christian Church throughout the world.

The authority derived from Christ, the Invisible Head of the Church, must be centred in the visible head appointed as His representative in the Church on earth.

That Christ did appoint a visible head on earth is again clear from the Gospels.

He certainly spoke to St. Peter as He spoke to no other amongst the Apostles. St. Matthew records the words of Christ to him, “You are Peter, and upon this rock I will build My Church and I will give to you the keys of the Kingdom of Heaven.”-Matt. 16: 18–19. That the other Apostles would look to Peter as the one in whom authority was centred is clear from the words of Christ recorded by St. Luke. “Do you (singular),” He said to Peter, “being once converted, confirm your (singular) brethren.”-Lk. 22: 32. And that to St. Peter the whole flock in general was committed is evident from Our Lord’s words to him, as recorded by St. John, “Feed My lambs; feed My sheep.”-Jn. 21. 15–17.

St. Peter, then, was appointed as visible head of the Church to act in the name of Christ and with the authority of Christ; and as the one true Church had to last till the end of the world with the same constitution as that which Christ personally gave it, the office entrusted to St. Peter must also continue till the end of time. Otherwise the Church would not remain the one particular society Christ founded, true to His intentions.

Now the only one in the world today who could possibly succeed to the office of St. Peter, and the only one who claims to do so, is the Pope. For St. Peter established his headquarters in Rome and died there in the year 67 A.D., under the Emperor Nero.

Either his office in the Church has lapsed (which is impossible), or the Pope, by lawful succession in St. Peter’s office, is today the visible head of Christ’s Church, exercising the duties and possessing the guarantees bestowed upon St. Peter himself.

All Catholics believe, therefore, that the Pope, as Bishop of Rome, is the supreme head of the visible Church on earth.

PAPAL INFALLIBILITY

We have already seen the Catholic doctrine that the Church of Christ must be infallible. But if the Church be infallible, so, too, must be the Pope as supreme head of the Church.

For if the Pope could officially teach a wrong doctrine, that would make acceptance of error a condition of communion with him, and therefore with the Catholic Church of which he is the head But Christ could never allow the Pope to commit the whole Church to error.

Therefore it is Catholic doctrine that the infallibility as well as the authority of the Church finds its last court of appeal in the Pope as visible head of the Church.

But the Pope is infallible only as head of the Church. That is, he is infallible not as a private individual, but only in virtue of his office; and then only when he defines a doctrine of faith or morals to be held as an Article of Faith by all Catholics throughout the world.

EXCLUSIVE CLAIMS

From all that we have seen, it is evident that Catholics cannot accept the idea that one religion is as good as another. They sincerely believe that the Catholic Church is the one true Church, and that all other Churches separated from her are mistaken. They credit people who belong to other Churches with good faith. They do not judge them, but leave that to God. They themselves, however, feel bound in conscience to maintain the truth of the Catholic Church to the exclusion of the claims of all others.

Christ Himself did not believe that one religion is as good as another. If that were true, the Jewish religion was all right as it was, and there was no need to preach another Law, saying, “He who believes not shall be condemned.”- Mk. 16: 16. Nor can many Churches, teaching contradictory doctrines, all be equally true Churches.

Consistently with their conviction that the Catholic Church is the one true Church, Catholics are not free in conscience to attend the religious services of other Churches. [Though since the reforms of Vatican II, Catholics are now permitted to attend other services for sufficiently serious reasons, including authentic ecumenical outreach, and providing there is absolutely no compromising of the Catholic’s duty to practise his own religion and to maintain the Catholic’s belief that Christ founded only one true Church. Such participation is in no way to be seen as sanctioning any non-Catholic belief.]

This is in no way due to lack of courtesy, respect, or love for the persons of non-Catholics. It is due simply and solely to what Catholics believe to be their loyalty to Christ. They may not sanction by their active participation any forms of religion differing from, or separated from the Church Christ Himself established and commissioned to continue His work in this world.

I may love a non-Catholic friend very, very dearly. But, although he is my friend, his religion is not my religion. And if he is my friend, he would not want me to violate my conscience for his sake, even as I would not want him to violate his conscience for my sake.

It is not being narrowminded to limit one’s conduct to the dictates of one’s conscience. People who are “broad- minded” at the expense of conscience, who are prepared to do what they believe to be wrong whenever expediency suggests it, far from deserving admiration, deserve only contempt.

And the Catholic refusal to take part in non-Catholic religious services is the only position consistent in one who is convinced of the truth of the Catholic Church, and who cannot believe that one religion is as good as another.

Good non-Catholics who realize this refrain from asking Catholics to attend non-Catholic religious services, sparing them the embarrassment of having to refuse, and not allowing this fact to interfere in the least with their mutual friendship and love.

INSTRUCTION THREE

COMMANDMENTS OF THE CHURCH

In our last talk we saw how, according to Catholic teaching, God sent His Son in the Person of Jesus Christ to give a Divine Revelation to mankind, and how Jesus sent His Church to continue teaching that Revelation to all nations until the end of time.

Now we Catholics look upon the Church as our spiritual mother, to whom we owe all that is due to a mother; love for all that she has been to us; respect for her advice; and obedience to her commands.

And since we believe that the Catholic Church has, not a merely human authority, but a divine authority, we know that in obeying the Church we are obeying the Will of Christ. For, to His Church Christ said, “Whatsoever you bind on earth will be bound also in Heaven”; and, “If a man will not hear the Church, let him be as the heathen.”-Matt. 18: 17–18.

Using her God-given authority, the Church has made many laws to preserve, directly or indirectly, the spiritual welfare of Catholics. She has laws forbidding the reading of books which could poison the mind against Christian standards of belief and moral conduct, against cremation and membership of secret societies. [Cremation is now permitted, provided that there is no risk of implying that the person so cremated does not believe in the resurrection of the dead.] Her laws insist upon the education of Catholic children in Catholic schools where such schools are available.

But there are six outstanding laws dealing with our positive religious duties, laws commonly known as the six Precepts of the Church. And these are as follows:

1. To hear Mass on Sundays and Holy Days of obligation.

2. To fast and abstain on the days appointed.

3. To confess our sins at least once a year.

4. To receive Holy Communion during the Easter period.

5. To contribute to the support of our pastors.

6. To observe the laws of the Church regarding marriage.

Let us, then, consider each of these precepts briefly in turn.

FIRST PRECEPT

TO HEAR MASS ON SUNDAYS AND HOLY DAYS OF OBLIGATION

Catholics are obliged to assist at Mass on Sundays and the prescribed Holy Days under pain of mortal sin, unless they are hindered by serious difficulties such as ill-health, or too great a distance from a Church. This does not mean that Catholics are terrorized into going to Mass. It is true that they do not want to commit mortal sin. But in reality it is their own sense of justice that takes them to Mass.

If they pay the baker each week or month for the bread with which they nourish life, they realize how much more they are obliged to make due return to God for the life thus nourished.

God Himself, Who gave the Ten Commandments in their right order of importance, devoted the first three to duties to Himself, bidding us to “remember,” above all, our duties of weekly worship on the Sabbath Day, which for Christians is Sunday.

So God, as it were, presents His account every week, an account which must be honoured. And this acknowledgement of our indebtedness to Him is a matter of honesty and justice. Catholics do not wish to be dishonest and unjust. When, therefore, the Church tells them that their main religious duty is assistance at the Sacrifice of the Mass on Sundays and Holy Days of obligation, they let nothing interfere with their resolution to be present on those days.

A non-Catholic husband should be delighted to see his Catholic wife faithful to her religious duties. A Catholic who is true to God and to conscience in these matters is likely to be trustworthy in all other aspects of life. But what reliance can be placed on one who is not even true to God and to conscience in the greatest of all obligations?

It can be noted here that the Holy Days of Obligation, in addition to Sundays, are:

1. Feast of the Nativity (Christmas Day).

2. Feast of the Circumcision (January 1).

3. Feast of the Ascension (Variable).

4. Feast of the Assumption of Mary (August 15).

5. All Saints’ Day (November 1).

These Holy Days have been appointed by the Church to recall to our minds the greater mysteries of our religion, and the virtues of the Mother of Christ, together with the example of the Saints.

SECOND PRECEPT

TO FAST AND ABSTAIN ON THE DAYS APPOINTED

The Second Precept obliges us to fast and abstain on the days appointed. This Precept is a definite application of the teaching of the New Testament. When the Pharisees complained that the disciples of Christ did not fast, He replied that they did not whilst He was with them, but that they would do so when He had gone from them. (Mk. 2: 18). St. Paul wrote to the Corinthians, “Let us exhibit ourselves as servants of God, in patience, in fastings.” (II Cor., 6: 5). Fasting is part of the Christian Law, and the Catholic Church appoints certain times when we are obliged to observe it.

Fasting limits the amount of food we may take. Abstinence forbids the eating of meat.

On some days we are bound to fast, but not to abstain from meat. On other days we are bound to abstain from meat, but not to fast. On yet other days we are bound both to fast and to abstain from meat.

Only those between the ages of 21 [that is, those who are adults,] and 60 are bound to observe the Law of Fasting. The Law of Abstinence binds all over the age of 7. In ill-health, of course, a dispensation from these laws may be obtained from the Church.

When days of fasting or of abstinence approach they are always announced to the people at Mass on the preceding Sunday, except in the case of the regular Friday abstinence from meat, of which all Catholics are aware, and to which they cannot fail to advert.

Fasting and abstinence are forms of selfdenial, in accordance with Christ’s words to His disciples: “If any man will come after Me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross, and follow Me.”-Matt. 16: 24.

Abstinence from meat on Fridays is particularly intended as a tribute to the death of Christ on Calvary because of our sins. On the day He gave up His life for us in such dreadful suffering, Catholics give up the pleasure of taking meat; and no Christian surely could blame this act of grateful remembrance of all that we owe to the death of Christ.

THIRD PRECEPT

TO CONFESS OUR SINS AT LEAST ONCE A YEAR

The third Precept of the Catholic Church obliges all Catholics to go to Confession at least once a year, under pain of grave sin. The Church insists that it is an additional and serious offence against God to go longer than a year without recovering His grace and friendship by a good confession.

But this law establishes only the outside limit. Good Catholics go to confession much more frequently, some monthly, others even weekly, though they may have only venial faults to tell.

Good Catholic parents are at peace in regard to their children when they see those children faithful to their regular confessions. They know the immense influence for good which regular confession has upon their lives. It is when children begin to grow careless and to neglect confession that parents feel that they have reason for anxiety and worry.

FOURTH PRECEPT

TO RECEIVE HOLY COMMUNION DURING THE EASTER PERIOD

Catholics are obliged, under pain of mortal sin, to receive Holy Communion at least once a year; during the Easter period, i.e., between Ash Wednesday and Trinity Sunday.

This again is only the outside limit beyond which Catholics may not delay their reception of Holy Communion.

Good Catholics go much more frequently, monthly, weekly, or even daily.

FIFTH PRECEPT

TO CONTRIBUTE TO THE SUPPORT OF OUR PASTORS

Catholics are obliged in conscience to contribute according to their means towards the support of their religion. As the Catholic Church teaches both the love of God and the love of one’s neighbour, she is obliged both to promote the fitting worship of God and to undertake social and charitable work in this world

Our religion, therefore, demands the building of churches and the support of priests to care for the spiritual welfare of souls; schools and teachers for the education of children; works of charity for orphans, the sick, and the aged; and missionary activities both at home and abroad.

The support of these good works is a duty of charity and justice binding upon Catholics according to their ability. And good Catholics regard the support of their religion as one of the ordinary expenses of their daily living just as other expenses for the upkeep of the household.

When all Catholics in a parish do their share, the burden is not great upon each. And, after all, priests and nuns give their very lives to the cause of Christ and the good of souls. The laity, if not called upon to give their lives, are obliged at least to give something of the earnings their lives make possible. The same faith that inspired the priests and nuns to consecrate their lives to the work of God inspires the Catholic laity to contribute towards that same work.

Of course, those who cannot give are not expected to give; and no one is expected to give beyond his means. One thing is certain. Generosity to God brings a great blessing.

SIXTH PRECEPT

TO OBSERVE THE LAWS OF THE CHURCH REGARDING MARRIAGE

Finally, Catholics are obliged to observe the laws of the Church regarding marriage.

According to the Catholic Church and the teaching of the New Testament, marriage is not only a civil contract, but is also a Sacrament of the Christian religion. We shall consider the true nature of marriage more fully later.

Here it will be enough to say that, since marriage is a Christian Sacrament, it is part of the Catholic religion just as the other Sacraments, and the Church has the duty to regulate the marriages of her members.

The State has but the right to legislate for the civil effects of marriage in the interests of social order.

The laws of the Catholic Church declare that Catholics may not marry relatives within certain degrees of bloodrelationship.

They may not marry those not of their own religion, unless the Bishop, for reasons he thinks sufficiently serious, grants a dispensation from the normal law to enable the mixed-marriage to take place.

Thirdly, no Catholic can contract a valid marriage except in the presence of an authorized Catholic priest and two witnesses. And the Catholic ceremony must be the only ceremony to take place.

The Church must know which of her members have contracted marriage, and which have not. When any of her members contracts a marriage, she must have a record of the fact, and the necessary documents to prove it. Again, she has the obligation to see that Christian conditions are observed in the reception of this Holy Sacrament of Matrimony. And since marriage is a Sacrament of their religion, it is only at the hands of their own Church that Catholics may receive this, as the other Sacraments also.

These laws are binding upon all Catholics. The Church does not make laws in these matters for non-Catholics. If two non-Catholics marry, either in their own Church or in the Registry Office, the Catholic Church recognizes their marriage as quite valid.

But a Catholic, whether marrying a Catholic or a non-Catholic, is obliged in conscience to observe the laws of the Catholic religion.

A non-Catholic, brought up to view things differently from Catholics, may find it difficult to understand the reason for such strict laws. But, if he wishes to marry a Catholic, knowing that such law exist, he should be the first to insist that the marriage takes place according to the requirements of the Catholic Church.

He himself wishes to contract a true and valid marriage both in the sight of God and of his fellow men. And he surely wants his wife to feel bound in conscience to him as he to her. Apart from the sense of duty to him, he wants her to be happy and contented within the marriage he offers her.

Knowing, therefore, that she will not feel that she is indeed entering upon a true and valid marriage unless she marries according to the rites of the Catholic religion, he will wisely insist that the marriage must take place according to those rites.

It is not against his principles to be married in such a way. It is against her principles to be married in any other way. Wisdom itself dictates that marriage to a Catholic should take place according to Catholic rites.

Other conditions applying to marriage we shall see when dealing with the Sacrament of Matrimony itself. Here we have considered merely the Precept of the Church obliging Catholics to observe the laws of their religion relating to the celebration of marriage.

Such, then, are the Six Precepts of the Church, regulating the practical religious duties of Catholics. The knowledge of these duties by the non-Catholic party to a mixed-marriage cannot but be a great help towards mutual understanding and happiness in such a marriage.

INSTRUCTION FOUR

THE SACRAMENTS

In our previous talks we have considered what might be called the Catholic way of living. Now let us turn to

Catholic ways of worship.

Man is not a disembodied spirit. He consists of a body and a soul. A religion adapted to his twofold nature will therefore be both spiritual, yet manifest in visible rites and ceremonies.

In the Incarnation itself the invisible and eternal Son of God, by means of His visible humanity, put Himself within the reach of the sense-limitations of man. And before leaving this world He established a visible Church with a visible priesthood and visible means for our sanctification. He instituted the Sacraments as visible rites both to signify and to give grace to men.

SEVEN SACRAMENTS

Christ instituted seven Sacraments. In the natural order, individual life goes through a cycle of a) birth, b) growth, c) nourishment, d) reaction against illnesses, and e) termination by death. But man is not only an individual. He is a social being, living in f) domestic society or the family, and in a g) social order under civic authority.

These same seven features are provided for by the seven Sacraments, in the spiritual and supernatural life Christ came to give.

1. BAPTISM pours the very life of grace into the soul.

2. CONFIRMATION strengthens that life as growth brings its added responsibilities.

3. THE EUCHARIST is the regular nourishment of that life.

4. PENANCE (or CONFESSION) destroys the moral disease of sin.

5. EXTREME UNCTION (or LAST ANOINTING or SACRAMENT of the SICK) consoles and gives courage when death takes us from this world.

6. MATRIMONY sanctifies marital relationships, blending the love of man and wife with Christ’s Own perfect love.

7. HOLY ORDERS gives the priesthood of Christ, that He may continue His work in the Church as an ordered society uniting His members with Him and with one another.

So the seven Sacraments embrace the whole of life. And these seven have existed from the very beginning of the Christian religion.

1) BAPTISM

Baptism is the first of the Sacraments. It cleanses us from original sin, makes us Christians, children of God, and heirs to the Kingdom of Heaven.

When our first parents fell into sin they forfeited both for themselves and for their children throughout the ages the grace of God.

All human beings, therefore, apart from Christ and His Mother Mary, have inherited a deprivation of Divine Grace. In other words, they are born in a state of original sin, children of a guilty race.

Now Christ our Saviour came to repair the work of our first parents, and to restore the life of grace to our souls.

This life is given us in our baptismal re-birth, and it is quite distinct from the merely natural life obtained by birth from our earthly parents.

Baptism is, therefore, necessary for the very salvation of our souls. Christ said clearly: “Unless one be born again of water and the holy Ghost, he cannot enter the Kingdom of God”-Jn. 3: 5.

2) CONFIRMATION

Confirmation is a Sacrament by which we receive a special communication of the Holy Ghost to make us strong and perfect Christians, loyal in all things to Jesus Christ.

Speaking of those already baptized, Scripture tells us that the Apostles then “laid their hands upon them and they received the Holy Ghost.”-Acts 8: 17.

3A) THE HOLY EUCHARIST

The Holy Eucharist is a Sacrament which contains the Body and Blood, with the Soul and Divinity of Our Lord

Jesus Christ under the appearance of bread and wine.

That Jesus left Himself really present in such a way is one of the most clearly revealed doctrines in Sacred

Scripture.

Twelve months before He died He promised in the most explicit terms that He would make the gift of Himself under the form of bread. “The bread that I will give,” He said, “is My flesh for the life of the world.” When the Jews objected He insisted that He meant what He said. “Amen, amen, I say to you, except you eat the flesh of the Son of

Man and drink His blood you shall not have life in you.”-Jn. 6: 52–54.

When actually instituting this Sacrament at the Last Supper He said, “This is My body . . . This is My blood.”—Matt. 26: 26–28.

And St. Paul declares that “Whosoever shall eat this bread, or drink the chalice unworthily, shall be guilty of the body and of the blood of the Lord.”-I. Cor. 11: 27.

The Catholic Church has ever held and taught, therefore, just what the Bible says. And for this reason, whenever they enter the Church, Catholics genuflect, or kneel towards the tabernacle on the Altar where the Blessed Sacrament is reserved. For they know that they are entering into the very Presence of Christ.

3B) THE SACRIFICE OF THE MASS

In the very first Book of the Old Testament (Genesis 14: 8) we read that Abraham met Melchisedech, a Priest of the Most High God, who offered sacrifice in bread and wine.

Half way through the Old Testament we meet with David’s prediction of Christ, “The Lord has sworn, and He will not repent: You are a priest forever according to the order of Melchisedech.”-Ps. 109 (110): 4.

At the end of the Old Testament the last of the prophets, Malachy, tells us that the priesthood of the Jews is to be abolished in favour of a new priesthood and sacrifice. “I have no pleasure in you, says the Lord of Hosts: and I will not receive a gift of your hand. For from the rising of the sun even to the going down My name is great among the gentiles; and in every place there is sacrifice, and there is offered to My name a clean oblation; for My name is great among the gentiles, says the Lord of Hosts.”-Mal. 1: 10–11.

Jesus Christ, therefore, is our High Priest, according to the order of Melchisedech. Together with the sacrifice of Himself on the Cross, He must offer a sacrifice in bread and wine, a sacrifice to be offered in every place continuously among the gentiles to whom He turned after the rejection of the Jews.

The night before He offered Himself in the one perfect all-sufficient Sacrifice of the Cross, therefore, Jesus gave Himself in the Blessed Sacrament in order to have that Sacrifice continued in the Church; and He declared that His priests were to do just what He had done, telling them that as often as they should do so they would show forth the death of the Lord until His Second Coming in majesty and glory to judge the world.-I Cor. 11: 24–26.

On the Cross, then, He offered His perfect humanity for us in sacrifice. In the Mass we present that same offering, making it our own, only under the veils of the Holy Eucharist.

3C) HOLY COMMUNION

By an extravagance of love, Jesus, having offered Himself for us in the Sacrifice of the Mass, offers Himself to us in the Sacrament of Holy Communion.

So the Holy Eucharist is both Sacrifice and Sacrament. There a Gift is offered to God in the name of men, and that Gift is Christ as our Victim on the Altar. Then a Gift is offered to men in the name of God, and that Gift is again Christ-in Holy Communion.

For the reception of Holy Communion Catholics know that they must be in a state of grace, i.e., free from the guilt of mortal sin since their last good confession; and also that, in a spirit of reverence for Our Lord, they must be fasting from any food or drink from the previous midnight. (The fast is now only one hour from food or drink, and water is permitted at any time.)

4) THE SACRAMENT OF PENANCE

Since Jesus Christ is our only Saviour and principal Mediator, there can be no forgiveness of sins except through

His death on the Cross.

But we have already seen that original sin is destroyed by the Sacrament of Baptism. Through Baptism, therefore, the redeeming work of Christ is applied to souls.

Yet if Baptism is necessary to destroy the original sin we did not personally commit, how much more necessary will be a Sacrament for sins we do actually commit after Baptism!

Christ therefore provided another Sacrament for the forgiveness of actual sins-the Sacrament of Penance or

Confession.

By this Sacrament sins are forgiven by a duly authorized Catholic priest.

God alone, of course, can forgive sin. But God can certainly delegate His power to selected men who would act in

His name. And this He did.

The New Testament tells us that Christ breathed upon His Apostles and said: “Receive, you all, the Holy Ghost; whose sins you shall forgive, they are forgiven them; and whose sins you shall retain, they are retained.”-Jn. 20: 23. St. Paul, therefore, said clearly, “God, Who has reconciled us to Himself by Christ, has given to us the ministry of reconciliation.”-II Cor. 5: 19.

We must remember that a Christian is not merely an isolated individual. He is a member of the Church. And whenever he sins he not only offends God, he harms his own soul and does injury to the Church of which he is a member.

All three, therefore, enter into his reconciliation. He humbles himself by contrition; confesses his sins to a priest as a representative of the Church; and through that priest is granted absolution by God.

Many Protestant writers today regret the loss of the Confessional. They point to its perfect adaptation to human psychology; how it keeps men aware of their responsibility to God; how it secures the reparation of wrongs; and the force it is for social good. But for Catholics, of course, the fact that Christ instituted this Sacrament leaves no choice but to accept and make use of it.

Every priest who hears a confession is bound by the Seal of Confession. Under no circumstances can he reveal or make any use of knowledge he obtains in the confessional. And every Catholic knows that what he says in Confession in order to obtain forgiveness of his sins will at once be dismissed from his mind by the priest as if it had never been said.

The conditions for every good confession, of course, are that the penitent is truly sorry for his sins; that he is determined to try to avoid such sins in the future; and that he is prepared to make any necessary reparation of harm that he may have done to others.

5) EXTREME UNCTION (THE SACRAMENT OF THE SICK)

Extreme Unction is the Sacrament which, through anointing with oil and prayers offered by the priest, gives health and strength to the souls, and sometimes to the body, when in danger of death from sickness.

That Extreme Unction is of divine institution follows from the words of St. James: “Is any man sick among you? Let him call in the priests of the Church, and let them pray over him, anointing him with oil in the name of the Lord; and the prayer of faith will save the sick man, and the Lord shall raise him up; and, if he be in sins, they shall be forgiven him.”-James 5: 14–15.

6) HOLY ORDERS

Holy Orders is the Sacrament by which bishops, priests, and other ministers of the Church are ordained, receiving the power and grace to perform their sacred duties.

God has always made use of human agencies for the purposes of religion. He established a special priesthood in the Old Law. And the Gospels show that Christ established a new priesthood for the Christian religion.

He chose some men rather than others-the twelve Apostles.-Lk. 6: 13. He gave them His own priestly mission. “As the Father has sent Me,” He said, “I also send you.”-Jn. 20: 21.

They were to teach all nations.-Matt. 28: 19. They were to do so with His authority. “He who hears you, hears Me.”-Lk. 10: 16.

They were to baptize their converts.-Matt. 28:19. They were to forgive sins.-Jn. 20: 23. They were to offer sacrifice. “Do this in commemoration of Me,” Christ said to them at the Last Supper, adding, “As often as you do it you will showthe death of the Lord until He come.”-I Cor. 11: 26.

By these special powers given to specially chosen men Christ created a new priesthood to continue His work till the end of time.

Catholics entertain the greatest respect for this priesthood of Christ and regard all who have received it by ordination with the deepest reverence.

They address a priest as “Father” because a priest does all for the spiritual life of the soul that ordinary parents do for the natural life of their children.

It is the priest who gives the spiritual life of grace to souls at the baptismal font; and he can say with St. Paul, “In Christ Jesus I have begotten you.”-I Cor. 4: 15. It is the priest who teaches and advises those brought forth to life in Christ by their baptismal re-birth. He forgives their sins, nourishes them with the bread of life in Holy Communion; and he is with them when they go from this world at death, soothing their last hours, and preparing them for their journey from this world to God.

For all these reasons, the office of those called to the priesthood is held in the deepest respect by Catholics.

7) MARRIAGE

Now there is but one Sacrament more, that of Matrimony; but as this Sacrament particularly concerns yourself, we shall reserve it for our next talk when we shall be able to deal with it as fully as the subject requires.

INSTRUCTION FIVE

THE SACRAMENT OF MATRIMONY

God Himself established marriage, that human beings might co-operate with Him in the creation of children, and take His place as visible agents of His paternal Love.

The very word matrimony is built up from two Latin words, “matris” and “munus,” meaning the duty of motherhood.

And the union between husband and wife is in order that the wife may have the duties and the privileges of a mother in her own household, she and her husband bringing up the children God sends them to love and serve Him.

Sin, however, has only too often resulted in the degradation of marriage from the high level intended by God. Disordered passion frequently usurps the place of genuine love, and selfishness undermines the sense of duty.

Christ, therefore, determined to purify marriage. He condemned its degradation, lifted the natural contract to the lofty dignity of a Christian Sacrament and attached to it those graces which would counteract the tendencies of fallen human nature.

CHRISTIAN MARRIAGE

Marriage, according to the teaching of the Catholic Church, is a Christian Sacrament in the reception of which a man and a woman, who are lawfully free to do so, enter into a life-long union as husband and wife, for the sake of children, companionship and mutual edification in the service of God.

Let us consider each element in that description of Christian marriage.

1. A CHRISTIAN SACRAMENT

In his Epistle to the Ephesians, St. Paul sets before us the union between Christ and His Church as the model of what the union between husband and wife should be. And he concludes by saying that marriage “is a great sacrament; but I speak in Christ and in the Church.”-Eph. 5: 32.

As a Sacrament, Christian marriage sanctifies the love of husband and wife for each other, by blending it with the very Love of Christ for them both. It gives them the grace to bear with the trials of their state, for no one can escape all temporal anxieties, difficulties and sufferings. And it inspires both husband and wife to educate their children in thoroughly Christian ideals.

To receive this Sacrament worthily, God’s law requires that both parties must be in a state of grace; and Catholics are taught that their marriage should always be preceded by confession and Holy Communion.

2. LAWFULLY FREE

In our consideration of the Commandments of the Church we saw that, since marriage is a Christian Sacrament, it is subject to the laws of the Church. We saw, too, that no Catholic can contract a valid marriage except in the presence of an authorized Catholic priest and two witnesses.

But attention must also be paid to the impediments to marriage. Catholics are forbidden to marry relatives within the third degree of blood-relationship; a divorced person whose previous partner is still living; or a person who is not a Catholic. Since it concerns yourself, we shall come back to this last case in a few moments.

3. A LIFE-LONG UNION

Death alone dissolves the bond of Christian marriage. No human power can do so. Christ said definitely, “What

God has joined toget her, let no man put asunder.”-Matt. 19: 6.

The Christian religion excludes divorce and remarriage. Marriage is contracted until death comes to one or other of the parties.

This absolute prohibition of divorce and re-marriage prevents thoughtless marriages and easy separations. It protects women, so unequal to man in the contract by reason of her maternal duties and need of support. It safeguards the welfare of the children who need and have a right to the care of their own proper parents. And it benefits society itself by the stability of family life.

State laws permitting divorce and re-marriage are here in conflict with the teaching of Christ, Who said,

“Whosoever shall put away his wife and marry another, commits adultery.”-Mk. 10:11. And Catholics have to hold that no reasons of expediency can justify such a violation of the law of God.

4. HUSBAND AND WIFE

Speaking of marriage, Christ said, “They shall be two in one flesh. Therefore now they are not two, but one flesh.”-Mk. 10: 8.

The wife’s relinquishing of her own name to take that of her husband is intended to express the merging of their lives. And each party grants to the other the right to those bodily functions ordained to the pro-creation of children, provided the marital act is fulfilled in a normal and natural way and not degraded by contraceptive abuses.

In the exercise of these rights, however, happiness in marriage depends to a very great extent upon gentleness, the manner of approach, and mutual consideration. Without reverence for so intimate a union and unselfish love of each other, the psychological reactions can be most harmful, particularly to the wife.

5. FOR THE SAKE OF CHILDREN

The primary purpose of marriage is the pro-creation of children. God has implanted in human beings two great appetites, the one for food to preserve individual life; the other for sex-relations to preserve the life of the race. The pleasure attached to the indulgence of these appetites is secondary to their purpose.

So, in the Old Testament, Tobias prayed befo re his marriage, “O Lord, You know that not for fleshly lust do I take Sara to wife, but only for the love of posterity in which Your name may be blest.”-Tob. 8: 9.

Note 1-Contraceptive birth-control is, therefore, gravely sinful. Husband and wife have the right to marital relations, provided they take no measures to prevent God’s natural laws from attaining their end.

If, however, nature itself makes the conception of a child impossible at the time such relations are contemplated, husband and wife are quite free to make use of their privileges. But in all such relations they must be prepared to accept the child, should conception result.

Both the natural moral law and God’s positive laws demand this. Contraceptive birth-control is not wrong merely because the Catholic Church forbids it. The Church forbids it because it is wrong. She simply has not the power to say that it is not sinful. Gen. 38:10, tells us that Onan was guilty of contraceptive birthcontrol, and adds, “therefore the Lord slew him because hedid a detestable thing.”

If married people wish to limit the number of their children, the only lawful way is by self-restraint, abstaining from marital relations by mutual consent, either until another child is welcome, or at least during those times when conception is likely to occur. Such continence is possible with the grace of God, and prudent avoidance of provocation.

This law may seem irksome; but there is no state in life which is one of unmitigated pleasure and self-indulgence. And certainly no earthly benefits are sufficient compensation for the loss of God’s grace. One who sincerely loves, wills the good of the other; and such a one would rather forego a personal satisfaction than inflict the evil of serious sin on the soul of the one loved.

Note 2-There is scarcely need to add that, once a child has been conceived, it has the full right to life proper to any other human being. Abortion is murder; and the Catholic Church forbids this crime under pain of excommunication. Any action with the intention of terminating pregnancy is mortally sinful.

Note 3-Such children as God sends must be brought up in the love and service of God.

Parents are obliged to provide for their children’s bodily needs; give them a truly Catholic education, sending them to Catholic schools; teach them their religion, and see that they fulfil their duties of piety and prayer; and they are obliged always to set their children a good example of Christian virtue in every way.

6. MUTUAL COMPANIONSHIP AND EDIFICATION

Husband and wife should adapt themselves to each other in a spirit of selfsacrifice, bearing with each other’s faults, faithful in their respective duties, and rivals as to which will best serve God.

As marriage gives to each of the parties an absolutely exclusive right to the other’s love, any alienation of affection is gravely sinful. Neither husband nor wife is free in conscience to bestow attention upon, or accept attentions from, any third party. Mutual fidelity is a serious obligation before God, binding those who have entered upon the sacred contract of matrimony.

Such, then, is Christian marriage as a Sacrament of the Catholic religion. As a state in life, marriage has both its consolations and its difficulties; but if it be undertaken by the parties with genuine love for one another blended with truly religious motives, success, happiness and the blessing of God may be lawfully expected.

But this reference to religious motives leads to the question of mixed marriages.

MIXED MARRIAGES

The Catholic Church forbids mixed marriages for many and wise reasons, which have but to be stated to be approved by every right-thinking person.

1. Marriage is a Sacrament, and the Church would naturally prefer that both parties desiring to receive it at her hands should be Catholics, prepared for this great grace in the Catholic way, by confession and Holy Communion

2. For their own sakes, husband and wife should be one in all things. A chasm between them on the vital subject of religion, to say the least, does not make for perfect sympathy, unity and happiness.

3. The inability of the non-Catholic to appreciate Catholic moral principles relating to marriage can easily give rise to a conflict of conscience in regard to marital duties, with consequent distress above all to the Catholic party.

4. Always there is the danger that the neglect of all Catholic religious duties by the non-Catholic will lead the Catholic party and the children, also, to indifference towards religion, or even to driftage from it altogether. The ideal is certainly that father, mother, and children should all be fervent in the practice of the same religious duties.

However, for good reasons, a dispensation may be obtained for a mixed marriage, provided certain conditions are observed which are intended, as far as possible, to lessen the obvious disadvantages of such a marriage.

CONDITIONS FOR A MIXED MARRIAGE

The Church does not feel free in conscience to grant a dispensation for a mixed marriage unless the non-Catholic party has had the Catholic religion sufficiently explained to him to enable him to understand the religious obligations of the Catholic party, and unless the following promises are given in writing:

PROMISES TO BE SIGNED BEFORE THE MARRIAGE

A. To be signed by both parties :

We, the undersigned, hereby, each of us, solemnly promise and engage that all the children, of both sexes, who may be born of our marriage shall be baptized in the Catholic Church, and shall be carefully brought up in the knowledge and practice of the Catholic religion.

B. To be signed by the non-Catholic party:

I, the undersigned, do hereby solemnly promise and engage that I will not interfere with the religious belief of. . . . .. . . . . my future. . . . .. . . . . ; and that I will allow. . . . .. . . . . full and perfect liberty to fulfil all. . . . . duties as a member of the Catholic religion.

If these promises are required in writing, it is due merely to the great sense of responsibility of the Church in this matter. All serious contracts demand permanent records. The very law of the land demands both signatures for the marriage itself. And these promises are as important as the marriage itself. And if one intends to carry out any important provisions in a serious contract, he should not mind putting his signature to them, even as to the contract itself.

The promise that all the children will be Catholics may, at first sight, appear to be unfair. In fact, it is scarcely possible for a non-Catholic to understand it from the non-Catholic point of view. The only way to appreciate the position is to try to see it as the Catholic is bound to do. For the Catholic cannot hold that one religion is as good as another. He or she believes that the Catholic religion is indeed the one true religion.

With such a conviction, no Cat holic can say, “I’ll have the true religion, but my children won’t”; or, “God will be worshipped by me in the way He commands, but not by my children.” God Himself could not authorize that, and the Catholic Church has no power to dispense Catholics from the obligation of bringing up all their children as Catholics. She can but declare that obligation to the parties concerned, and urge its fulfilment.

CELEBRATION OF MIXED MARRIAGES

The normal law of the Catholic Church declares that mixed marriages may not take place in the Church, but must be celebrated elsewhere, as in the vestry or sacristy, or in the presbytery. For, even though the Church grants a dispensation, the fact remains that she disapproves of them, a disapproval she wishes Catholics never to forget.

The Church cannot be expected to treat mixed marriages as the normal rule, or to make as much of them as in the case where both parties are her own. No lack of courtesy is intended towards the non-Catholic party by this restriction of privileges, any more than a lack of courtesy is intended towards a non-member of a club who is granted limited privileges only, when brought as a guest by one enjoying full membership.

Each Bishop is empowered to dispense from this restriction in the celebration of mixed marriages within his own diocese, should he think conditions warrant such a dispensation. But, unless the Bishop dispenses from it, the normal law of the Church must be observed. The marriage itself, of course, is not affected by the place of its celebration. A mixed marriage, celebrated before an authorized Catholic priest and two witnesses, is as true and valid a marriage in the eyes of the Catholic Church, and of everybody else, as a marriage between two Catholics.

* * * * *

Such, then, is Christian marriage; and with this we conclude our review of Catholic doctrine. In the end, nothing is so dear to the heart of a true Catholic as his or her religion. In so far as the Faith is respected, and the Catholic party is true to it, God’s blessing can be expected upon a marriage, and happiness within. And surely it is with the desire of that blessing and that happiness that you enter upon your own marriage.

* * * * * * * *

For God And Spain

THE TRUTH ABOUT THE SPANISH WAR

BY AODH DE BLACAM

INDEX

FOREWORD

SPEAKING by radio from Castel Gandolfo on September 14th, 1936, Our Holy Father the Pope told the people of Spain and the whole world how the heart of the Vicar of Christ grieves in the grief of Spain and glories in the glory of those who have suffered there for God.

His Holiness, in words of such eloquence as seemed to come from the very soul of the Church, blessed those “who have taken upon them the difficult and dangerous task of restoring the law of God and the rights of conscience,” and counselled them to do all things in charity and without wrath; the Holy Father blessed also the wilful ones who are also his children but have turned their hands to dreadful acts, pleading with them to return to the ways of brotherhood with their nation and peace with all men.

In the essay that follows, the writer has tried to set forth the solid historical truth of the outbreak and of the purposes of the Insurgents. He has tried not to labour the awful wrongs done by the revolutionaries, whose works provoked the Rising, and, by giving only a brief summary of the proven atrocities against God and civilisation, has understated the immensity of the wrongs done.

This moderation, and refraining from stress on the magnitude of the terror, is in harmony, the writer hopes, with the Church’s mind, as shown us by the Holy Father, wishing for peace only less than for justice and Christian order. The facts given can all be attested by evidence, though it is true that they have been largely suppressed by most of the newspapers of the English-using world, owing to influences, political, spiritual or opportunist which one does not care to specify here and now.

Let all who read, read with awe and not with anger, praying for the victory of the good cause and for mercy and reconciliation among the people of noble Spain. Let all remember that Spain is fighting for the cause of all Christendom when its soldiers strive to hold back the atheistic materialism of Moscow, and the church-burning, culture-destroying fury. For the freedom of our Faith, and for the life of our own grave, Christian civilisation, the parties of the Right and their soldiers are waging the Last Crusade.

FEAST OF THE EXALTATION OF THE CROSS, 1936.

I. -CIVIL WAR BEGINS

ONE EVENING in July when folk came in from the hayfields to tea, the wireless news said:”A Spanish

Statesman, Calvo Sotelo, has been found murdered in Madrid.”

That was the first dread news to warn us that the long tension in Spain was to break in a terrific social war. Fuller tidings next day told how Calvo Sotelo, one of the principal leaders of the Conservative groups in the Cortes, or

Parliament, had been arrested at his home by Government agents, and then had been murdered. On the same night, the dwelling of Gil Robles, the principal leader of the Conservative groups, also had been visited in like manner, but he had been absent-he had flown and escaped.

At the funeral, Gil Robles appeared. He charged the Government with responsibility for the death of Calvo Sotelo and for the series of outrages that had led up to that crime. Those for whom he spoke, he said, after long and patient effort to co-operate with the Government in maintaining constitutional rule, found themselves baffled. The

Government itself had destroyed constitutional ways.

Two days later, on July 17, Gil Robles had fled for his life from the terror-stricken capital. News came that the army in Morocco had renounced its allegiance to the Madrid Government. Throughout Spain, army garrisons rose in like manner. There was, in brief, a general military revolt, headed by General Franco, who was in charge of the chief body of the Spanish army, then stationed in Morocco.

Hideous turmoil followed which we must contemplate before we go on to see how the war developed and then examine the causes of the conflict in detail.

II.-THE TERROR OF JULY

The agricultural regions welcomed the insurgent armies and their cause, and so more than half Spain at once was lost to Madrid.

Most of the navy, much of the air force, and parts of some garrisons, however, remained loyal to the Madrid

Government. So did a great part of the populace in the great industrial cities, particularly Barcelona, that big rich, revolutionary centre, capital of the self-governing region of Catalonia.

The Government served out arms to the social revolutionary organisations, which include trade unions, and a Red militia thus sprung into being in a day. This militia was hurled upon the insurgent garrisons in Madrid, Barcelona and other places where the insurgents had not prevailed. The garrisons fell in these two cities, but held in others, such as

Toledo.

In effect, the Government had armed the mob. Let us understand what the organisations were, to which the arms were served out. They were, as we have said, revolutionary trade unions. Some of the unions are Socialistic, some

Bolshevistic, but two of the most important, known as the F.A.I. and C.N.T. go even further than Russia-they are

Anarchist. There is in Spain a big group of revolutionaries which follow the doctrine of Bakhunin, who said that the

State and all other institutions of authority ought to be destroyed. Factories, villages, men, all should be a law to themselves. Morality no longer would exist. The Anarchists and Communists held Barcelona and other places, and yielded only a formal allegiance to Madrid. They have seized their own anarchic power and are leagued together only for the destruction of religion and order.

Such are the trade unions that the Nationalists intend to suppress. In action, they are the mob armed. Awful scenes of revolutionary violence followed the rise of these destructive forces where they prevailed. Murder and massacre, sacrilege and arson, were seen on the greatest scale of Western history. Now, mark this: the chief fury of the Red hosts was wreaked on the Church: the Church was seized upon as the enemy, and bishops and priests who failed to escape into hiding were slaughtered.

Barcelona is the most hideous example of this outburst of hatred for holy things. There, the insurgent garrison was in a hopeless position from the outset; for it was in unfriendly country by reason of the Catalan racial feeling. It was small, and weak and gave up the fight in a few hours. Forthwith, however, the victorious Reds poured through the city of which they were the undisputed masters, travelling in vehicles that bore the emblems of their Union, the C.N.T. and

F.A.I., and. they burnt every Catholic church in that vast city save two.

One of Europe’s most ancient and splendid historic shrines was but one among the scores of churches that were reduced, in a few hours, to smoking ruins.

The number of priests murdered in this festival of hate was 400 in Barcelona alone. A striking example of the savagery was this: the coffins of nuns were dug up and opened, and the bodies of the long dead holy women were put on show in the streets with hideous results. Dead Carmelite monks were exposed in the same manner along the outer wall of the church.

What happened in Barcelona was on a bigger scale than elsewhere; but not more horrible. Five bishops were murdered at the outset-those of Barbasto, Siguenza, Jaen, Segovia and Lerida. At the town of Deimiel, thirty-one

Passionists were slain; two Franciscan communities were put to death, and eighteen Christian brothers. Elsewhere a community of St. John of God Brothers (men engaged in the humblest and most unselfish of social works) was massacred, and in another place eighty Augustinian were put to death. Outrages against nuns were many, and too horrible to relate. The complete tale of slaughter of these unresisting religious is known only to Heaven. In the weeks that followed, in the ruthless civil war, it became the rule on each side to shoot the officers of surrendering parties. The Reds, we are told by Mr. L. T. Fleming of the Irish Times, who visited the battlefields of

Aragon under their protection, shot all priests with the officers.

Dreadful sacrilege was wrought on the Divine Presence of the altar. Libraries were destroyed, together with priceless works of art, for no reason save hatred of their Catholic associations.

Such was the Red terror, wherever the Madrid Government prevailed. Mass could not be said in the Capital, or in

Barcelona, or in any place remaining in Red control.

III.-THE COURSE OF THE WAR

From the start, General Franco was master of Morocco, where the main body of the regular Spanish army was stationed. At home, General Mola, at Burgos, was quickly master of the North of Spain, save for the Basque provinces, which were temporarily neutral, pending a settlement of their local demands and the coast-line. Hosts of young volunteers of the Falange Espanola, a Fascist league, joined his standard at Burgos. In the South, General

Queipo de Llano mastered Andalucia. The insurgent air force overcame the navy and Franco was able to bring over thousands of regular troops and plentiful war material. With these he won a sea base at Huelva and advanced on

Badajoz on the Portuguese border, taking it after a big struggle-the first big victory of the war. Soon the insurgents held a line, with a railway behind it, running in a great curve across Spain: Huelva-BadajozSalamanca-Valladolid-Burgos and, after the second big victory of the war, Irún. All behind this line, save some isolated strongholds, became Insurgent country, with friendly Portugal behind it. From it, they pressed forward on

Madrid from the West. In the ensuing struggle, their advance was steady everywhere save where Catalonia’s Red forces held a line against them in the north-east.

Franco met Mola at Burgos. There, after Mass at the historic cathedral, they prayed together at the tomb of the Cid

Campeador, the hero who from Burgos began the liberation of Christian Spain long ago. A military Government was set up, with General Cabanallas at its head, and Gil Robles came to Burgos from his refuge in Portugal to announce his support of what was done.

At Seville, on the feast of the Assumption, Cardinal Ilundain blessed the old red-and-gold flag of Spain, and

General Queipo de Llano unfurled it. The mayor of the city said that the tricolour flag of the Republic never had been more than a party emblem, but the historic national flag would symbolise the well-being of all.

In contrast to this course by the patriots, the Madrid Government resigned after the fall of Irún, and a new

Government, openly Communistic, was formed by Senor Largo Caballero, founder of Communist Youth-one of the organisations which took a main part in the destruction of churches. At the same time (the beginning of September)

President Azalia welcomed the Russian Ambassador and exchanged assurances of fraternity between Madrid and

Moscow.

Thus, whatever the merits of the case at the beginning, when confused statements were made about the ideas governing each side, the war quickly became defined as one between Nationalism and Catholicism on one side, and

Bolshevism and Atheism on the other.

Wherever the Insurgents have prevailed-and they were masters of three-quarters of Spain by the first week of

September-the Crucifix is restored to the schools. Everywhere that Madrid rules, the schools are under an atheist whom Largo Caballero has made his Minister of Public Instruction.

IV.-THE HISTROICAL CAUSES

We will consider now how this war between Communism and Christian civilisation came about; and for this we must notice the main heads of Spanish history and the events which forced the conflict to take the form of war.

(a) Past History.-In the age when the Protestant Reformation broke up the unity of Christendom, Spain was the principal champion of the historic Catholic order. At that time, her national spirit, raised high by the patriot monarchs Ferdinand and Isabella, was united to a grand religious fervour. Her mariners sought out America and her monks went with them to found those great new Christian nations which now occupy South America; the track of those builders of civilisation is seen on the American map up to San Francisco and Santa Fe. At that same time, the Spanish fleet in the Mediterranean were guarding Europe from the hosts of Islam, while scholars and saints and mystics abounded in her universities and monasteries, and the Jesuits were sending out those missions to the East which won hundreds of thousands of souls. For a century, Spain was the power-house of the Catholic world, and her mighty works were done by men who poured out blood and wealth and zeal and life in the selfless spirit of sacrifice. Save the vast Irish missions to the Continent in the Dark Ages, no such other vast outpouring of Christian service ever has been seen.

This prodigious spending of energy exhausted Spain (as Ireland of old was exhausted); for Nature has made Spain poor, and such works could not be maintained from her resources for ever. So Spain sank into a rest that lasted for more than two centuries, while other parts of Europe were gathering worldly power and wealth. She was backward, materially speaking, when her national spirit began to revive in the last century. The land lacked irrigation to make it fruitful, and easy-going aristocrats allowed their people to toil along in the old-fashioned ways not fitted for the stress of this age. Commerce and industry flourished in one region-Catalonia, with the great Mediterranean port of Barcelona as its capital, the Belfast of Spain. In Catalonia, a separate dialect is spoken, and social revolutionary ideas are allied to a semi-national feeling.

(b) The Monarchy Falls.-The revival of Spanish energy in the last half century took two forms. There were men like the great national teacher, Menendez y Pelayo, who cried to the nation to build a new greatness on its noble Christian tradition. There were others, like the noted Blasco Ibafiez, who directed the reviving energy to destruction. These wanted to throw down monarchy and Church and the Christian family and to build a new, Godless State.

In 1923, the agitation by anarchists and others of the destructive side led to the murder of the Cardinal Archbishop of Saragossa. In the wild disorder of the time, General Primo de Rivera, with King Alfonso’s approval, formed a Military Directory, and Parliament was suspended.

The Directory lasted eight years. During that time, the land had peace. Primo de Rivera, a devout Christian gentleman, set about reforms that were wholly admirable. He began by purging the Services of idlers; he overhauled the national finances, and made the administration efficient. He enforced moral reforms that cleaned the cities. He set about big material works, such as the building of railways into regions that still were poor through isolation, and the harnessing of water-power. Grand exhibitions were held at Seville and Barcelona, which displayed the nation’s resources. Trans-Atlantic flights were organised which showed the new Spain’s power. Spain made more material progress in his time than in any modern period, and he has been described as the greatest Spanish statesman since Ferdinand and Isabella. Unhappily, this noble and gentle statesman failed to complete his work, as he intended, by the establishment of a popular constitution. He was frustrated by a group of shiftless aristocrats who were unwilling to make the sacrifices that he demanded in order to put an end to agrarian grievances.

The King is blamed for supporting them. Primo de Rivera was not a man of Mussolini’s overbearing kind, and he failed to assert his will. He had not raised an army of young political enthusiasts like the Fascisti of Italy. He advised, was overborne, and gave way. He offended the King and was dismissed-very ungratefully- to die of overwork and disappointment, in 1930. He was buried in the Carmelite habit. His fall was the tragedy of splendid intentions broken by too kindly a nature.

There is ample proof that the Directory was popular, but what Primo de Rivera won was lost by his successor, General Berenguer, a soldier picked by the King, good-natured, but lacking ability as well as strength. The ruling powers sank into inertia, but not so the revolutionary forces.

In August, 1930, the Republicans, Socialists, Communists and other opposition groups met at San Sebastian and pledged themselves to a mutual truce while they worked unitedly for the overthrow of the monarchy. This was the first appearance of what is called now a United Front. The King blundered and called in the most inflexible of conservative politicians. In April, 1931, local elections were called and the politicians of the San Sabastian Pact triumphed in all the cities.

Now, mark this: that 22,000 seats were held by Royalists and less than 6,000 were taken by Republicans. Furthermore, these 6,000 seats represented parties which had nothing in common save enmity to the Crown. However, since these seats were almost all in the cities, the election amounted to a sweeping urban revolution. There was uproar in Madrid and the King fled.

The Republic was proclaimed by the urban minority.

(c) How the Republic Fared.-A Provisional Government was set up with a Liberal politician, Alcala Zamora, as Prime Minister. The leading figures, all members of the Pact, included men as diverse as Lerroux, a Liberal; Largo Caballero, a revolutionary Socialist; and Manuel Azafia, a bitter anti-Catholic, who became Prime Minister when Zamora became President.

This mixed group-most of whom were Freemasons-enacted Liberal and Socialistic measures, confiscated the wealth of the Church, secularised education, and suppressed that Order which has done most for Spanish glory in the past, and in recent times had done enormous works of education that the State itself neglected, the Society of Jesus. An effort was made to socialise the land.

A Government which was erected on hate, was divided within itself, and assailed traditions and faith dear as life to Catholics, naturally failed to bring peace. In contrast to the Directory, the Republic saw strikes, riots, suppression of newspapers, internments, almost ceaselessly. In 1932, there was a military revolt by General Sanjurjo, which failed, and a few months later a revolt by Communists and Anarchists. Then, in April, 1933, elections were held again, the first to be held on a true Republican base.

What happened? The parties of the Right won 217 seats; the Centre, 162, and the Left only 93.

The Right represented Catholics, Agrarians and some Monarchists; the Centre the Liberals and Moderate Republicans. The Liberal leader, Lerroux, now replaced the destructive Azaila as Premier, with Gil Robles, the principal Catholic statesman of the Right supporting him. This was a Coalition Government reflecting the true state of Spanish opinion.

(d) The Rise of Gil Robles.-Who was this Gil Robles, who now first appears in our story? He is one of the ablest and wisest democratic statesmen of Europe.

The son of a noted Catholic scholar, he devoted his energies first to Catholic Action. He travelled the world, mastered political science, and strove through the great Catholic daily paper El Debate to inspire his nation with the ideals of Catholic social reform-the only principles which correct the wrongs of Capitalism without going over to the errors of Communism.

Politics called him against his wish, but he quickly showed himself the greatest parliamentarian of the Republic. He offended the strong monarchists by announcing that he would work for reform within the Republic, and would not raise the issue of the monarchy. Possibly, like most Spaniards not of revolutionary bent, he loves the tradition of the Crown; but he said that Spain was divided on that issue, and that what she needed was peace and Christian reform. C.E.D.A., the Confederation of Right Parties, made Gil Robles their chief, with Religion, Family, Fatherland, Social Order as their watchwords. He became Minister of War under Lerroux and set about the reconstruction of the armed forces, while one of his colleagues, under his masterly direction, drew up a thorough scheme for agrarian reform, under which small Ownership was to be multiplied, and farmers were to be lifted from depression by a sweeping correction of the prices of farm produce. For Gil Robles, agriculture is the main industry of Spain, on the prosperity of which the welfare of all others must be made to rest.

Gil Robles did not approve of the dictatorial system, though he had held a post under the Directory. Unlike Primo de Rivera, therefore, he gained the enthusiastic support of young men. He toured Spain by aeroplane, expounding his policy of Christian democratic reform, and the great cities welcomed him with enormous meetings. At Valencia he addressed what is said to have been the biggest political meeting ever held in Spain, and none were more in evidence than the young Catholic manhood of the South, even in that city which had been the anti-Christian Blasco Ibafiez’ native place.

The uprise of Gil Robles dismayed the powers of the Left. He was securing modifications of anti-clerical measures, and he was winning approval for a programme of reform, not revolution. This meant good-bye to their destructive aims if it could not be checked: so they rose in arms.

That was in October, 1934. The Catalan revolutionaries proclaimed Catalonia independent, there was an upheaval in Madrid and elsewhere, but chiefly in Asturias, where the miners were infected by the most violent ideas of Bolshevism. A hideous civil war raged, with several of the signatories of the Pact of San Sebastian siding against the Government of Lerroux, himself a signatory. The allies had split.

Observe that the revolt was made against a duly elected majority Government. It was a deliberate effort of a defeated minority to gain its end at any ruthless cost.

The true character of Bolshevism was shown in the anti-religious fury of the rebels. Many priests were killed in Oviedo. At Turón, not far distant, a community of De La Salle Brothers, with a Passionist priest, was martyred.

The Government of Lerroux prevailed after a fortnight’s hard fighting. In the crisis, Madrid was paralysed, but organised Catholic youth, followers of Gil Robles, turned out and did the city’s scavenging and distributed newspapers. Victory was a victory for the Right.

(e) The Right is betrayed.-It was obvious, when peace returned, that Gil Robles was the hope of Spain. In Parliament, however, he was not strong enough to prevail against the intrigues of enemies of the Faith. Lerroux was old and weak, he fell, and President Zamora sought to get a Government formed by one statesman after another out of the Centre parties. None was strong enough, yet still the President failed to invite the man who had proved his fitness.

The latter months of 1935 were filled with crisis. A Fascist movement called the Spanish Phalanx sprang up, and young enthusiasts, led by Primo de Rivera’s son, Don Jose, began to work for action as in Italy. Conservative leaders of military type came to Gil Robles and begged him to call out the army and seize power.

It is probable that most of the nation would have welcomed this action. The moment was favourable: the prestige of Gil Robles was at its height and the Left was lately defeated in arms. However, Gil Robles refused. It was at this time-the last months of 1935-that he made the tour we have mentioned, and it was at the prodigious and wildly enthusiastic meeting at Valencia that he publicly refused to take power by unconstitutional means.

We are asked [he said] to carry out a coup d‘état. We will not: I will not forget my duty, nor will the Army forget its duty to proper authority. A coup d’état is for a defeated minority (he referred to the Communistic attempt of the year before) and not for a party that has the nation with it. We will take power when the time comes, from the hands of the nation. In the words of Cisneros: These are our powers, these are our army-the people of Spain!

Yet still Zamora refused to invite the leader of the biggest single party in Parliament to form a Government. The accepted rules of parliamentary democracy were observed, with Quixotic honour, by the leader of the Right; they were broken by the President of the Republic, under pressure from the Left, fear of the Left.

When all else failed, and terrorism was breaking loose, the President suspended the Cortes. Democracy was baffled by the boasted Democrat!

Then came the elections of February, 1936, fought in the midst of fresh violence, simply and solely because the Right was to be denied what was its due.

(f) The Fatal Election.-The Allies of the Pact of 1930 came together again on the elections’ eve and fought the election as the United Front. The Crown was gone, but Christian conservation (if we may use the phrase) remained. Socialists, Communists, Anarchists hated the prospect of a Catholic recovery more than they hated one another.

The Right was less strongly united. The Fascists had been offended by the refusal of Gil Robles to seize power, and by his rebuke to their methods. The monarchists were lukewarm because he had refused to stand for a restoration. These two groups, the Fascists, a growing number, and the monarchists, a considerable and influential body, stood aloof, convinced that the trickery which had baffled Gil Robles in parliament made support of his methods futile. A minority had carried out the revolution in 1931 and was baffling peaceful action effectually ever since. They abstained from the polls.

Nevertheless, the party led by Gil Robles did so well that it alone of all parties came back stronger after the election. By all the rules of parliamentary democracy this in itself was a national vote of confidence in the Catholic democrat.

The combined parties of the Right polled about a quarter of a million more votes than the parties of the Left. Thus, a majority of the nation was proved to be on the side of Gil Robles. When we add the disappointed abstentionists of the Right, it is clear that the majority was great. The left polled its maximum, and its maximum was smaller than the minimum of the Right. Mark that.

However, the majority of seats, owing to unevenness in the constituencies, was taken by the Left. With the larger part of the nation against it, the United Front was able to form a strong Government. This was done. Casares Quiroga, one of the old Pact politicians, became premier; and the resolution of this minority to carry its extreme purposes was shown by the deposition of Zamora in favour of an out-and-out Left politician; Azafia, as President.

Thus a Left Government won power on a minority vote, and showed at once that it was determined to pursue as extreme a policy as if it had been authorised by the mass of the nation.

V. -THE OUTBREAK

A minority Government may be legitimate, and it is the duty of the nation to obey it in all lawful measures. However, it is bound morally to rule with moderation, to maintain even justice and not to enact measures that are repugnant to the impotent majority.

The Government of Casares Quiroga was technically legitimate, but who will say that it remained legitimate when it threw aside its obligations? It was, in truth, the creature of its own extremists. The well-known tactics of Bolshevism are to get power into the hands of the Left and then to devour the Left. Weak men who, as Liberals or moderate Socialists, ally themselves with Communists, or seek toleration for Bolshevism; make themselves tools of a movement which scoffs at majority rule and democracy, and uses them merely as a mask.

This was made clear by Largo Caballero, soon after the erection of the Popular Front Government. He said that the purpose of his friends was to transform the existing regime into a Soviet Republic, but that the moment was not ripe. The democratic Republic would be allowed to operate for a time, but the proletariat would put it aside and set up its own dictatorship. “We will choose our own time, but the present does not quite suit us.” Six months later, Largo Caballero achieved his end-became Premier of a Government in the hands of Communism.

That the new Government was heading in this direction was known well to friend and foe. It is the tactics of Bolshevism, once a weak Left Government has been got into power and the Right thus silenced, to make Government by democratic means come to a full stop by means of strikes and disorders. Power can be seized by the revolutionary intriguers at this stage.

Quickly these tactics were revealed. Strikes, strikes, strikes, were the order of the day. Agitators went through the industrially-paralyzed centres, stirring up the mob to violence. Between February and July, in five months of government by the Left minority, these horrible streams of outrages poured over the land

There were 341 strikes, many of them “general strikes” on a big scale; 411 churches were attacked, and 160 of them were gutted with fire; 43 newspaper offices were raided, and 10 of them destroyed; many churches were closed by revolutionary mayors, and 69 Catholic centres were destroyed.

In these proceedings no fewer than 1,556 persons lost their lives, many of them clergy.

Read that catalogue of horror; read, too, how Catholic schools and convents were set on fire, and furniture and statues thrown into the street, and how protection was steadily refused to church property. It all happened in five months-supposed to be months of democratic rule.

In Parliament, Calvo Sotelo and Gil Robles stood up and read the list of outrages, demanding that the Government afford adequate protection. They were denied their demand. The parties of the Right were mocked. They were taunted with responsibility for deeds done by desperate men, the Fascists who struck back at the terrorists, although (as we have seen) the Right in Parliament had not collaborated with Fascism and had striven to prevent a break-away into that last course of desperation.

The ally of Gil Robles, the high-minded conservative leader Calvo Sotelo-he was an experienced statesman who had been Minister for Finance under Primo de Rivera’s fruitful rule, and represented the College of Advocates- complained in Parliament that the Government was refusing him adequate protection from the raging terror. The guards on his house had been changed for strangers, in whom he had no trust. “We’ll have your own life!” cried a member of the Left. Calvo Sotelo quoted the words of a Saint: “You may take my life, but my honour is my own.” He was refused the protection that he demanded.

A member of the State forces had been shot by some unknown hand. Within a few hours of his vain appeal for protection, Calvo Sotelo was taken from his house and murdered, as a reprisal. The men who arrested him were Government servants. He was murdered on the infamous principle that all defenders of the Right were public enemies.

On the same night, the house of Gil Robles was visited, presumably by the same murder gang. He was absent, and so escaped. He attended the funeral and denounced the Government under whose aegis his illustrious colleague had been slain. Bitterly spoke of the baffling of his own efforts to sustain orderly constitutional rule. The Government had shown itself no Government, but a protector of violence.

Then he fled a marked man whose life was not safe in the capital city of the country that he served.

Calvo Sotelo was murdered on July 14. The rule of law was at an end. On July 19, the soldiers struck to quell anarchy by war.

VI.-ISSUES AT STAKE: THE LEFT

A succession of stop-gap Governments at Madrid yielded to one by Senor Giral, who held power till Irún fell early in September.

Giral’s Government included no Communists, and it was Largo Caballero the Communist who declared by radio that defenders of Madrid were defending democracy: he used the mask of democracy even when he was the master of the situation. It was the Communistic union of which he was head, and the Communist Youth that he founded, which were carrying out the destruction of churches and maintaining the Red terror at that very time. While Giral was premier, the Red terror could be represented as loyal measures to defend the State, a plea by which foreigners were led to believe that the revolt was a rebellion against legitimacy.

When, however, Irún fell in September and the victory of the Insurgents seemed near, Giral’s Government broke up, and Largo Caballero formed what he had been planning so long, an out-and-out Marxist Government. The outer world was not allowed to know whether the stop-gap politicians of Giral’s type broke in panic or were coerced. It was enough that they went, and a Government of undisguised Red revolution was established.

The programme of Largo Caballero’s Government was plain from the men with which he staffed it, even if it were not known by his character and declarations. When he put an atheist in charge of education, he showed his intention to go as far as farthest Russia towards the extinction of Christian order, morality and belief.

It was at the same time that M. Rosenberg, the Russian Ambassador, arrived in Madrid with greetings to President Azaila and was assured by Azafia that Madrid stood for Moscow’s principles.

The victory of Madrid, therefore, would involve what has happened in Russia, the destruction of organised Christianity. Churches would be closed everywhere in Spain as they are closed already in Catalonia and wherever else the Reds prevail. This, for Christians, is immeasurably the greatest issue at stake. Beside this contemplated spiritual desolation, the material results of Marxism are small; yet, in themselves, how horrible! The whole land of Spain would be nationalised. Instead of their lot being eased, as a Right victory promises, the peasants would see themselves as a class wiped out altogether and State farms worked by servile labour would be established. This would mean the end of rural joys, rural virtues, rural family life.

Christian marriage and family life would end, as in Russia and the name of God would be forbidden in the schools.

Industries would be mechanised, and nationalised on the Russian mass model, so that the small, independent craftsman and shopkeeper would go; and the town population would be made servile.

These changes would be brought about by the dictatorship of the proletariat; that is, by the ruthless command of men who have no respect for religion, culture, tradition-for any of the spiritual things that sweeten even mortal life. Art and letters would go the way of the sublime treasures that were destroyed in the three terrors, the terror of 1934, the terror of the peace, and the terror of the war.

Non-productive classes, as Marxists choose to regard all save the proletariat, would be impoverished or killed off, as in Russia, where a million people were shot down, largely by Chinese mercenaries. We need not defend the too great inequality of classes to see that the levelling of all society to one class must entail immeasurable cruelty, with true gain to none.

VII. -ISSUES AT STAKE: THE RIGHT

We turn to the cause of the Right. It is, first and foremost, the salvation of Spain from Russia’s plight. Immediately after the beginning of the Rising, General Franco cried to the world that he had risen to save Western civilisation in Spain. It is plain that nothing save drastic action could have checked the headlong progress of the Red movement; and, whether Franco acted in the best of ways, or whether he is perfectly sincere-some writers meanly allege that he only wants power-it is a truth beyond yea or nay that Western civilisation will perish if he fails.

Victory will mean that the Church will be restored, and that anarchistic agitation will be put down. The rule of authority in some form or another, will be restored.

In what form?-it will be asked. Here we come to a highly important matter, on which it is necessary to be clear and firm. We say first that any form of Government that will secure the freedom of worship to the Catholic population and the safety of life and property, will be better than what Spain has endured in the last five years. A pure military Government which achieved these good ends would be so far good. So would a Fascist Government. Yet few of us would favour either of those forms, at any rate for more than an emergency period, and it is natural that our sympathy with the Insurgent Generals will be greater if it can be shown that they intend more than to rescue Spain from Bolshevism-that is, if they propose a lasting reform.

Now, the first heartening fact is that Gil Robles, after escaping from Madrid and getting to safety in Portugal, went into the liberated part of Spain and made his way to Burgos, where the military Government sits. There he announced his adhesion to the Insurgent cause, “nuestro movimiento salvador,” to quote his own words to the present writer.

The methods were not his-his methods had been tried and had failed-but he stood now with the soldiers. At Seville his friend the great Catholic poet Jose Maria Peman, served the insurgent cause under General Quiepo de Llano.

What is good enough for Spain’s greatest democratic statesman and greatest Catholic writer, ought to be good enough to secure the approval of outside observers. The Generals have satisfied these men that they stand for what they have stood for-the regeneration of Spain. If the Insurgents win, Gil Robles probably will be called upon to form a civil Government under the Army’s protection, like Dr. Salazar in Portugal, and then he will be enabled to carry out the social reforms, drawn in the light of the Encyclicals, which were frustrated under the old regime.

VIII. -THE WAR DESCRIBED

Let none doubt that the revolt is popular. An Irishman at the Insurgent headquarters writes: “I am beholding the world’s greatest racial and religious resurrection, ignored, misrepresented by correspondents whose countries do not want another great Catholic Power to rise.”

Here are some passages from an account of the Crusading spirit of the Insurgents, from the Osservatore Romano, the Vatican newspaper as translated by The Standard:

“Amidst these horrible scenes of blood and fire, destruction and ruin, it is well to turn our eyes to the splendid reawakening of the religious spirit of the true Spanish people, a reawakening so splendid that it has astonished even the Catholics themselves by its vigour.

“While in some parts churches and convents are being razed, in others the crowds may be seen begging pardon of God and praying for victory for the good. While on one side priests and religious are being massacred, on the other their hands are kissed in public as a sign of respect and veneration. While some die cursing God, others go to death with the glorious cry on their lips; Long live Christ, long life Spain.’

“We have unquestionable evidence of this new growth of the Catholic spirit in Spain in the present crisis. It consists of authentic actual facts, which have taken place here and there in both the districts where the faith had been preserved in all its strength and those others where it had been suffocated by the Communist propaganda. This is proof that the reawakening is general.

“A father of seven, going to enlist, said:”It frightens me to think that these seven children may be deprived of their father; but it would be much more terrible that they should be deprived of their catechism.’” He fell shortly afterwards, bravely fighting against the Reds. Another workman, a widower with four children, shut up his small shop and entrusted his children to the neighbours that he might go to fight.

“Four brothers, the sons of a widow, decided to go to the front to take part in the war against the Reds. As they did not wish to leave their mother completely derelict, one of them consented to remain at home with her. However, when the good woman heard that one of the sons was to remain with her, she angrily told him that she would refuse to give him food if he dared to remain at home while his brothers were fighting for the Faith.

“Correspondents in Pamplona write: What a wonderful sight these youths are. How joyous they are. It is a pleasure to see them with the Sacred Heart badge on their breasts. Some of them wear the Brown Scapular or Child of Mary medals. One night twenty priests were kept busy hearing confessions in the soldiers’ quarters. Many made their confessions on the sidewalks or under the trees in the public squares, kneeling down in public to receive absolution. All this is, as it were, a strong injection of faith into the army, which stood in need of it. When the men go to enlist they sing songs such as this: ‘Weep not mother, weep not that I take up arms. The body is of no value, that which has value is the soul.’ In Salamanca the whole population has recourse to God. An indescribable enthusiasm has been manifested there. The churches are full. Even boys between the ages of 10 and 16 offer themselves as volunteers.’

“A commandant who received some medals of the Sacred Heart for his troops expressed pleasure at the gift, and said that he prayed much that they would do their best at the front. But, he added, the non-combatants must help with their prayers, for prayer not only comforts the soul, but it strengthens the body.’

“From Cadiz we hear that there is a consoling religious reaction,”Long live Christ the King,” is heard shouted in the streets, in the very city where formerly so many blasphemies were heard, and God’s name was so often insulted and profaned. The ringing of the Angelus has been introduced, and it is an edifying sight to see the soldiers halt, even in the streets, to recite the prayer in which the civilians also join. On the day when this practice was introduced, the general reminded the soldiers that it was a salutation addressed to the Blessed Virgin. He recalled the history of its institution, and he himself recited it with the soldiers. Many of those present were moved to tears.

“In Seville the populace and the soldiers show their respect and veneration for the priests not only in the churches but in the streets also. The number of those who frequent the Sacrament is remarkable.

“At Murcia a professor was assassinated in the church of Tribaldos because he had always been an ardent defender of the Catholic cause. This is how one of his brothers communicated the news to another brother: Mother and sisterin-law have borne this great sorrow with a truly admirable fortitude. Don’t you worry. We are prepared to suffer whatever God may send us, for it is an honour for the family to have a martyr, and that is what our brother is, having bravely defended the cause of Christ all his life.’

“At Badajoz as soon as the insurgents entered the city the churches were immediately filled to offer thanks to God for delivery from the tyranny and from extermination.”

The foregoing examples are but a few leaves from the book of Spain’s new Crusade. How grand was that moment when the Insurgent forces, having captured Valladolid after the Red terror had sacked the churches, had Mass said in the public place, with military honours, for the assembled city! How happily did 100,000 people of Saragossa march in procession when a Red aeroplane dropped on the shrine of Our Lady of the Pillar bombs that failed to explode, and one of Spain’s most treasured relics, the miraculous image of Our Lady was saved!

IX. -WHAT IS FASCISM?

It may be said here that all this religious fervour is fine, but that outside sympathisers cannot approve of the political intentions of the Nationalist Generals. They may liberate religion (which is the great thing, after all), but they announce that they will set up a lasting military Government and will suppress trade unions and Parliamentary rule. They are what the Communists call Fascists. How can this be squared with liberty?

We must define Fascism. This system began in Italy in 1922, and its inventor, Mussolini, truly said that it was not for export-that it belonged peculiarly to the Italian people in their present time of national exaltation.

Three things exist in Italy which are bulked as Fascism: (i) the dictatorship of one of the most popular national leaders of history (as we must describe him in truth, whether we approve of him or not); (ii) Fascism, or the control of the State by an armed political party; and (iii) the corporative economic system, by which the industries of the nation are conducted by guilds of men and masters instead of by State industry as under Socialism, or by big financiers opposed by trade unions as in pure Capitalistic countries.

Now, any of these three things could exist separately. In Portugal, the corporative system exists; but not Fascism. It is Portugal that the Spanish leaders have cited as their model.

In point of fact, therefore, the Spanish movement is not Fascist. Among the parties of the Right who have united under the Patriot flag, the Fascists are but one group-a very heroic group let us add, which has poured out its young blood for the nation.

The Spanish “salvation”-to employ a term which Gil Robles has used in a letter to the present writer-is largely inspired by the splendid recovery of Portugal in recent years. Like Spain, Portugal was exhausted three hundred years ago and recovered in our own days. Following half a century of struggle and revolution, and the fall of the monarchy, a Catholic soldier, General Carmona, set up a military Government with national approval in 1926. After two years, he called in a philosopher-statesman, the almost monastic scholar, Dr. Oliveira Salazar, to act as reconstructor of the State. Poor, a lover of his village and true son of the rural culture, Salazar set out to multiply small owners and to base the State on freemen. He organised the industries on the “corporative” system, but avoided the Italian method which makes them part of the political system. He set up a popular legislature, with half its representation professional.

Above all, he made religion and patriotism; order and peace, his principles. He took Catholic philosophy for his guide and the Social Encyclicals for his texts.

Under the protection of the military chief of State, this new Portuguese Constitution has worked wonderfully well. Prosperity has returned to the land. Privilege has been suppressed. The health of the nation is reflected in a spiritual revival which the Cardinal Patriarch of Lisbon described in 1936 as “a miracle.”

That is the example of what authority can do, when directed by Catholic idealism and principle. The example of Portugal may be denounced as “Fascism “ by unscrupulous enemies; but no honest man can say that it is ignoble, or that it is an attack on true liberty.

The mind which thinks that there can be no liberty save where the English Parliamentary system is maintained is easily misled by the cry of “Fascism,” but it makes two vital blunders: (i) the English system is held by such sound English democrats as the late G. K. Chesterton to be undemocratic, since it leaves power in the hands of a Presscontrolling oligarchy and goes with an order that allows only 7 per cent of the nation to own property; and (ii) the Communists are themselves contemptuous of Parliament, so that their victory over the “Fascists” will not save it.

Mark this: that these Latin nations have been leaders of civilisation in the past and when they devise a new system, it is likely at least to deserve study by thoughtful outsiders. The Portuguese system, let it be repeated, is a free, enlightened system that does away with class war, that evil thing for which countries nearer home have not yet found a cure.

X. -SOME CHARGES ANSWERED

It is not our purpose to pin our absolute approval on the ideals or the methods of the insurgents; for it is for Spaniards to find their own solution for their own problem. Our purpose is simply to vindicate the Insurgent cause from the charges made against it (i) that it is a mere outbreak of military tyranny; (ii) that it means that Catholicism is repressive, and (iii) that the Red cause is a just cause, or the Red outrages things provoked.

We will answer some points on which defenders of the Red lay great stress.

(i) General Franco brought Moorish troops into Europe, to make war on white men.-This is a sad truth. Franco struck with the weapon at his hand, the professional army of the State, which includes Moors and legionaries. None can be glad that Spain, like France and Britain, has used dusky troops in Europe. Four points must be noted: (a) whereas the mob armed by the Reds looted and massacred non-combatants, no such charge is made against Franco’s troops-they bore themselves as true disciplined soldiers. Regular troops under professional command are far less dangerous to non-combatants than hastily-enrolled, unseasoned volunteers, who so easily lose their heads under fire. (b) The actual part taken by the Moors and legionaries is much less than the hostile Press has pretended. The bulk of the army is native Spanish. (c) To the Flag there flocked hosts of enthusiastic youths and elders who have been trained during the progress of the war and are being used increasingly. (d) Complaints against disciplined Moors, even if they took a bigger part than they have taken, ought to die on the lips of Communists, seeing that the Russian Bolsheviks used Chinese mercenaries to do their work of terrorism and to perform the massacres of thousands of Russian Christians.

(ii) Franco’s men shot their prisoners after victory, and especially at Badajoz killed many hundreds.-This also is deplorably true. Both sides in this hideous civil war have shot their prisoners. The Reds began it, by slaughtering all fighting men who surrendered. The huge executions at Badajoz were a terrible military reprisal, done, it may be added, when a city was captured in which the Reds had massacred priests, crucifying some of them. The act of reprisal was a fearful punishment, and it is recalled how many of the prisoners to be executed asked for priests, whom only the victors could supply, and happily went to God in penitence, with absolution -the happiest fate that could befall men whose hands had been dipped in innocent blood. Further, the executions were done only after trial, and only persons proved to have shared in the outrages were put to death.

The ruthlessness of the Spanish war is not new. In former wars of liberation, the same awful extremes were seen, as when the Cid Campeador wrought a terrible punishment on Valentia, and the gentle Queen Isabella of Castile on the violent rebels of her day. Spain’s mixture of blood since the Arab and Moor invasions has left a heritage of extremism that shocks us. Franco’s vengeance has been commensurate with the terror that it punishes and seeks to prevent from recurrence. If we found our priests crucified, would we be less wrathful, less stern than he? Let us pray, however, that mercy will temper the victory of the Right, and let our influence be used with the victors to be moderate and so to lift Spain from its present bloody misery. If we lend moral support to the cause of the Right, we have a right to be heard in pleading for mercy; but not if we justify or palliate the Red terror.

(iii) The Church in Spain was corrupt, rich, sluggish, tyrraneous.-Suppose this to be true, is it a way to reform a Church to burn it and abolish moral law? However, the charge is false. When the Church in Spain has given hundreds of martyrs to God in a few weeks-when its bishops, priests, nuns and pious laity have suffered cheerfully and unflinchingly for the name of Christ in such hosts-who dares deny the Church admiration and reverence? The Spanish Church is a Church of martyrs, sublime in this age of indifference.

As to its riches, its parochial clergy were amongst the poorest in Europe; and its treasures were confiscated two years ago. The Orders that suffered most were those that were pouring forth energy and learning and piety on works of education, as when the magnificent Jesuit Institute, that trained poor boys to be engineers and craftsmen-and was the premier technical institute of all Spain-was destroyed in the name of the Republic.

(iv) Spain has the highest proportion of illiteracy in Europe.-This is a charge against the old regime and against the Republic which allowed Church schools to be destroyed and suppressed the teaching Orders; not against the reformers now in arms. Further, it is a charge that involves a lot of misunderstanding. A man able to read, who reads shoddy and lying newspapers, is not really better educated than an illiterate who has a fine traditional culture around him. While Spain had many illiterates, it also has a lofty national culture. Its newspapers are the best in Europe, and are written by scholars. In Spain, an ill-educated man soon finds himself among his betters. The Catholic philosophy is accessible to all, which is not the case in the babel of some nations.

(v) The Church and the old regime did nothing to end the landlord system under which Spanish farmers suffered.- The Spanish landlord system was totally unlike what we understand by landlordism. It was sluggish, and needed reform, but Gil Robles, the principal leader of the Right, was the one statesman who set out to reform it. There is no hope of reform in the Left; for the efforts to socialise the land actually drove much of it out of cultivation.

Furthermore, the old regime and its faults are things of the past. Franco and Gil Robles are not defenders of the old regime. They are champions of a new, reformed regime. The faults of the past are not chargeable to them. The people of rural Spain rallied to the Insurgent cause, showing that they themselves regard the Patriots as deliverers.

(vi) The Insurgents intend to suppress trade unions.-They may suppress the revolutionary unions which have carried out the Marxist programme of violence. These unions have nothing in common with the unions that we know. The alleged intention to suppress unions can apply only to the Anarchist and Communist bodies, as the Christian unions are supporting the Patriot cause. With guilds of masters and men formed on the Portuguese model, unions for class war would be absurd.

(vii) The Insurgents want to restore the Monarchy, with which it is admitted that so much fault can be found.-The monarchy is for the Spanish people to restore if they so choose; that is, if they believe that this institution, associated with the past glories of Spain, still has merit in it. There is no intention to restore Alfonso XIII, whose mistakes and, doubtless, faults did much harm; but his son Don Juan would make a clean fresh start if the nation recalled him.

However, the Patriot Generals have affirmed that they are not fighting for the monarchy. Their head, General Cabanellas, is a life-long Republican. When Don Juan offered to serve the cause at Burgos, his offer was declined, and he was told that the question of the monarchy must be left to the decision of the nation when freedom and order have been re-established. Here we have another parallel to Portugal, where there are divided opinions as to whether the national recovery should be put under a restored monarchy, and the rulers of new Portugal have replied that the issue must be left until reconstruction is complete and a free national decision can be taken.

Late in September, one Insurgent leader was reported in the Roman Press to have said that the monarchy would be recalled in the end, at the people’s demand, as a means to unite the regional groups, to which local powers would be given. If Spain wants its King, hail to him!

XI.-WHAT IS OUR PART?

We have proved our case. We have shown that the chivalry of Spain struck when arms only could avail. The sublime heroism of the Alcazar does not come from men with a selfish cause. Spain rises to save her Faith and her freedom, and when she wins she will lead in the grand revival of Catholic civilisation, now, please God, at hand.

For us, who are not Spaniards, but who are fellow-Christians and citizens of a common civilisation, remembering that all Christian countries are rightly provinces of one grand Catholic commonwealth, what happens in Spain is of vital brotherly consequence. We are not called upon to defend all that is done by those with whom we sympathise, and the form of Government for which they are striving is their own concern; but it is our duty to understand their case and to defend them from slander. We must share their anxiety that, under some form, Christian order shall be restored.

To this end, we cannot give material aid, although we do not forget how Spain sent us ships and armies and gave colleges to educate our priests and leading laymen in our own dark hour. We can give, however, spiritual and intellectual aid; in the first place by our prayers, as our prelates direct and exhort us, and secondly by combating the false charges laid against our brother Catholics, now suffering or in arms, also by giving wise counsel and keeping our own house in order as an example and strength to our neighbour.

Were we to stand neutral or indifferent, when this Last Crusade is being fought, we would deserve to go down to history as a shameless generation, helping by our silence and consent the new Crucifixion. Hear, then, the words of Rome:

“In the parts of Spain where the Red Terror reigns triumphant [says the Osservatore Romano] thousands of martyrs die for Christ, just as in the early ages of the Church. Many other heroic acts of the Christians show that after twenty centuries the Faith has the same invincible strength, even though the persecutors have become ever more ferocious. The time will come when they, too, will be forced to exclaim: ‘Thou has conquered, O Galilean.’”

APPENDIX

His HOLINESS the Pope, from his summer residence, Castelgandolfo Monday, 14th September, 1936, broadcast to the world a striking address which he delivered to 500 Spanish refugees, including Bishops and Priests and Nuns. From the Holy Father’s moving address we give the following extracts:

“The tragic happenings in Spain speak to Europe and the whole world and proclaim once more to what extent the foundations of all order, of all culture, of all civilisation are being menaced. This menace, it must be added, is all the more serious, more persistent, and more active by reason of a profound ignorance and a disclaiming of the Truth -by reason of the truly satanic hatred against God and against humanity, redeemed by Him, in all that concerns Religion and the Catholic Church.

“This point has been so often admitted and, as We just observed, openly confessed that it is superfluous for Us to speak on the matter further when the events of Spain have spoken with such an appalling eloquence. It is opportune and even necessary, and for Us a duty, to warn all against the insidiousness with which the heralds of the forces of perversion are seeking to find some common ground for a possible approach and collaboration on. the part of Catholics, and this on the basis of a distinction between ideology and application between ideas and action between the economic and moral orders.

“This insidiousness is dangerous in the extreme, and its purpose is purely and simply to deceive and disarm Europe and the world in favour of an unfailing programme of hate, perversion and destruction, by which they are being threatened. Another truth is that, with this renewed revelation and open confession of hate for religion and the Catholic Church, so obvious in Spain, a further lesson is being offered to Europe and the world, a lesson precious and highly salutary for all who do not care to close their eyes and grope in the dark.

“Now, at last, it is certain and obvious from the very confession of these forces of perversion which are threatening everything and everybody that the one real obstacle in their way is Christian teaching and the consistent practice of Christian living, as these are taught and enjoyed by the Catholic religion and the Catholic Church.

“Wherever and with whatever means, insidious or violent and according to circumstances, and with whatever fictitious and insincere distinctions between the Catholic Church and religious politics, difficulties, obstacles and barriers are placed in the way of the full development of the position and influence of the Catholic religion and the Catholic Church, with its Divine mandate and authority, precisely to that extent there is aided and abetted the pernicious action of the forces of perversion.

“This is not the first time that We have set forth these very grave considerations, and have recommended them to all, particularly to those in positions of responsibility In this matter there is no testimony more authoritative than yours, because you, in your person and in what you hold most dear, your Fatherland, have experienced the evil disaster which is threatening us all.

“It has recently been asserted that the Catholic Church and the Catholic religion have shown themselves unprepared and ineffective in the face of such evil disasters, and the example of Spain, and not merely Spain, has been urged in proof of this. Very much to the point in this matter is a reflection of Alexander Manzoni: ‘There is no need to have recourse to examples to justify the Church; it is enough to look at Her teaching.’

“The observation is no less obvious than solid and profound. We want a society in which there is a genuinely free and untrammelled opportunity for the teachings which the Church and the Catholic Religion unfailingly inculcate with the force of law and essential direction, willed by God as a norm for individual conduct and dignity, for private, public, professional and social justice and for the sanctity of the family, teachings on the origin and exercise of authority in other spheres, on human brotherhood lifted to a Divine level, in Christ and His Mystical Body, the Church, on the dignity of labour as a Divine undertaking of redemption, looking to an assured reward, teachings on the obligations of mutual charity, of which the sole rule and criterion is the good, and the needs of our neighbour, as these are felt and measured in love, which can have no bounds, as it is like the love to which God Himself has a right.

“We want a society in which there is full and undisputed influence and authority of His teachings and those other principles, theoretical and practical, organically related to these teachings, and we ask how and by what means can the Church and the Catholic Religion make a greater and better contribution to the real well-being, whether of the individual or the family or society? Certainly a heavy and formidable responsibility lies on all those who, by reason of and in proportion to the character of their office, fail to oppose to these great evils every remedy and barrier that is possible.

“We know only too well that there are many other grave obstacles in the various fields of public, private, collective, and individual life which are opposed to the full efficacy and efficiency, influence and action, of the Catholic religion and Catholic Church. We must, however, content Ourselves with the indications We have just set forth in order not to delay any further that Fatherly and Apostolic Benediction which you have come to ask of the Common Father at the Throne of the Vicar of Christ. The benediction, beloved sons, which you are asking to receive, and which your Father is longing to bestow, a benediction which you have more than merited. We have willed and so disposed our choice to greet far and wide your brothers suffering in exile who have wanted but in vain to be with you this day.

“There is a disposition of Divine Providence which has willed you to be in many places, scattered far and wide, so that you, who bear the mark of the tragic events which have afflicted you in your dear Spain and Our Spain, may bear personal testimony of the heroic attachments to the Faith of your Fathers, to the Faith which by hundreds and thousands has added Confessors and Martyrs to the already glorious Martyrology of the Church.

“And this, We learn, with inexplicable consolation, which has been the occasion for an intensive and devout renewal and wide awakening of Christian life, particularly among the good, simple people of Spain, and which heralds the dawn and beginning of fairer days for the whole of Spain. To all this, good and faithful people, to all this dear and noble Spain which has suffered so much, We direct Our Benediction, with the desire that it may reach them, and to them, no less, Our daily prayers go out and will continue to go out, until peace finally returns.

Our Benediction, above any political or mundane consideration, goes out, in a special manner, to all those who have assumed the difficult and dangerous task of defending and restoring the rights and honour of God and religion, to save the rights and dignity of conscience, the condition and most sound base of all human and civil well-being. Their task, We have said, is both difficult and dangerous, for it is only too easy for the daily ardour and difficulty of defence to go to lengths which are not fully warranted, and further intentions, less pure and selfish interests and mere party feelings, may easily enter to cloud and change the morality and responsibility of what is being done.

“Our fatherly heart can never forget, and in this moment more than ever it must recall, with the most sincere and fatherly gratitude, all those who with purity of intention and unselfish motives have sought to intervene in the interests of humanity, and Our gratitude is not diminished even though we have had to realise the failure of their noble efforts.

“And what of the others? What is to be said of all those others who are also, and never ceased to be, Our sons, in spite of the deeds and persecutions so odious and so cruel to persons and things to Us so dear and sacred. What of those who, as far as distance permitted, have not even spared Our Person, and who with expressions and gesture so highly offensive have treated Us not as sons with a father, but as soldiers with an enemy who is particularly hated.

“We have, beloved sons, Divine precepts and examples which may seem too difficult for poor and unaided human nature to obey and imitate, but which are in reality, with Divine grace, beautiful and attractive to the Christian soul and to your souls, beloved sons, so that We cannot for one moment doubt what is left for Us to do-to love them, and to love them with a special love born of mercy and compassion.

“We love and think we can do nothing else than pray for them-to pray that the serene vision of truth will illuminate their minds and will reopen their hearts to the desire in fraternal love for the real common good. We pray that they may return to The Father, who awaits them with longing and will make a joyous festival of their return.

“We pray that they may be one with us when shortly-of this we have full confidence in Almighty God-the rainbow of peace will shine forth in the clear sky of Spain, sending the news of peace to the whole of your great and splendid country, of a peace, let Us add, serene in fixture, consoling all sorrows, repairing all harm, contenting every just and wise aspiration, which is compatible with the common good, and heralding a future of order and tranquility, of prosperity with honour.”

Nihil Obstat:

Carolus Doyle, S.J.

Censor Theol. Deput.

Imprimi Potest:

@ EDUARDUS,

Archiep. Dublinen.,

Hiberniae Primas.

DUBLINI, die 3 Octobris, 1936.

For Your Protestant Friend

THE CATHOLIC POINT OF VIEW

INDEX

BY T.V. FLEMING. S.J

“Good evening, Peggy! We seem to meet pretty often on the way home from the office these times. What about coming to the dance next week?”

“Thanks for the invitation, Bill, but somehow I don’t feel keen on going.”

“So you’ve turned me down again. I suppose it’s on account of our difference of religion-because you’re a Catholic and I”m a Protestant.”

“To be candid, Bill, that is the reason. As marriage between us is out of the question, I think it is better we should not have any dates.”

WHY NOT MIXED MARRIAGES?

“Why should marriage be “out of the question”? Haven’t plenty of mixed marriages proved happy and successful?” “Some have, but the odds are heavily against it-twelve to one according to a certain Catholic Bishop who has had much experience of how they work out.”

“Why shouldn’t our marriage be the happy one?”

“It might-but the risk is too great. It wouldn’t be fair to you, Bill, to let you marry me. My conscience would make too many demands on you, and you would feel it unfair to have to give in to me all along the line. To begin with, the wedding would have to be in a Catholic Church. Then all the children would have to be brought up Catholics. They would join me in their night prayers, in going to Mass on Sundays, in the abstinence or other penance on Fridays, and so on. You would feel a kind of stranger in the family, and in the long run it might get you down.”

“In other words, you want me to become a Catholic to marry you?”

“Certainly not! To become a Catholic without being convinced that Catholicism is the true religion would be mere hypocrisy. If you were to become a Catholic for that reason I should lose all respect for you.”

IS ONE RELIGION AS GOOD AS ANOTHER?

“There’s “the rub.” I am not convinced of the need to change my religion. We are each serving God in our own way, like two travellers going by different roads to the same destination. The Protestant religion appeals more to me, since I have been born a Protestant. If you were born a Protestant, you would feel just the same.”

“Sorry, Bill, to have to disagree with you. God requires that we serve Him in the way that He wills- not in any other way, no matter how much it may appeal to us. So, even if I had been born a Protestant, with my present knowledge of the claims of the Catholic Church, I should feel bound in conscience to become a Catholic.”

“Perhaps, you don’t know our Church sufficiently well to appreciate it?”

“Of course, I don’t know your religion as well as you do, but there are many Protestant ministers who have known their religion very thoroughly, and yet have become Catholics-several hundreds since the time of the conversion of Cardinal Newman.”

“To balance all that, Catholic priests have become Protestants.”

“It is true that some priests have left the Church-mainly because they refused to live up to the high moral standard required for the Catholic priesthood. (I”m talking about the demand for celibacy.) Among these men you certainly will not find such sincere seekers after truth as you will find in the long line of eminent converts to the Catholic Church-for instance, Cardinals Newman and Manning, Monsignor Ronald Knox (who has re-translated the Bible into English), and many others who formerly were prominent Protestant clergymen. You should read Monsignor John O”Brien’s work, “The Road to Damascus,” which gives short biographies of well-known recent converts.”

BAD POPES

“All the same, Peggy, haven’t there been many bad Catholics-even bad Popes?”

“There are at present over 450 million Catholics in the world in 1957. [There are over 1100 million in 2005] In such a big number it is inevitable that there should be some failures, as the Church is composed of human beings, not of angels. Our Lord Himself has said: “It must needs be that scandals come, but woe to him through whom scandal comes”.” (See Matthew 18:7)

“But what about those bad Popes?”

“Well, even among Christ’s chosen Apostles one turned traitor. Peter, their leader, perjured himself by swearing that he knew not his Master. All the others forsook Christ and fled at the first approach of danger. These failures, however, were fully atoned for by loyalty at other times. So, too, Catholic failures are more than counter-balanced by hundreds of millions of good Catholics. Besides, of the more than 260 Popes relatively few have been bad, whereas a lot of them have been saints.”

INFALLIBLE OR IMPECCABLE?

“How could there have been bad Popes at all, if the Popes are supposed to be infallible?”

“I am afraid, Bill, you are mixing up infallibility and impeccability. These are two very different ideas. To be impeccable means that one can’t sin. To be infallible means that one can’t make a mistake in what one knows (or teaches). The Pope, being human, is able to sin like the rest of men. But, when he speaks as the representative of Our Lord, officially teaching the whole Church, he cannot teach what is false. There have been Popes who led bad lives, but they did not lose their infallibility (when teaching) on that account. They were infallible, but not impeccable. A school-master may be a bad man at home, yet a good teacher in class. Likewise, certain Popes taught truth officially, even though they did evil at other times.

“That’s all very well, Peggy, in the case of an ordinary teacher, but how can the Pope be truly the representative of

Christ if he leads a bad life?”

“Let’s take an example. When the Governor-General of Australia signs Parliamentary bills officially we accept them as binding in law, that is, having the Queen’s authority behind them. Even if the Governor-General led a bad life (which he doesn’t), his official signature would still be authoritative. Similarly, even if the Pope were a bad man (which has rarely happened, and never in recent times) this would not deprive him of his authority to speak infallibly in the name of Christ.”

WHY NOT IMPECCABLE?

“If Christ made the Pope infallible, why did He not make him impeccable also?”

“Because infallibility is necessary for the survival of the Church, whereas impeccability is not. If the Pope were officially to teach false doctrine, the Church would no longer be the true Church which Christ fo unded. In this case “the gates of hell” would have prevailed against it, which would falsify Christ’s promise. So, for the sake of the Church, the Pope is preserved from error, even though personally he may be undeserving of his high office. Impeccability, on the other hand, is not necessary for the handing on of truth, as Christ Himself made clear when He said: “On the chair of Moses sit the scribes and Pharisees. All things therefore whatsoever they say to you, do all you; but according to their works doall you not”.” (See Matthew 23:2–3)

IS INFALLIBILITY DANGEROUS?

“Even still, Peggy, I find it difficult to accept this idea of an infallible Pope. It seems to give too much power to one man. Suppose the Pope were to run amuck and start teaching all kinds of infallible doctrines, what would you do?”

“There is no need to be afraid of that, Bill, the Pope seldom exercises his power of making infallible definitions. There has been about a hundred years between the last two definite cases-the Immaculate Conception in 1854 and the Assumption of Our Lady in 1950. Besides, he exercises his power very prudently-only after consulting the Catholic Bishops throughout the world.”

“Perhaps, however, some future Pope might abuse his power?”

“You don’t seem to understand, Bill, that the Pope’s infallibility is limited to very special cases. He can only make infallible pronouncements under very strict conditions, namely, when defining (or explaining) doctrines of faith and morals which have been revealed by God before the death of the last Apostle (or other doctrines logically connected with these). Further, he must make clear his intention of binding the whole Church to believe these doctrines.”

“In spite of all that, didn’t two Popes wrongly condemn Galileo on a religious question connected with the explanation of the Bible?”

“Yes, the two Popes erred on that occasion, but their condemnation of Galileo did not fulfil the conditions required for their verdict to be regarded as an infallible pronouncement. Of course we do not believe that the Pope is necessarily infallible in everything that he says. The quality of infallibility is had only when there are present the conditions I have already mentioned.”

NEW DOGMAS?

“But haven’t Popes infallibly taught new dogmas, which were completely unknown in the primitive Church “before the death of the last Apostle”, for example, the Immaculate Conception of Mary?”

“It is true that this doctrine is not mentioned explicitly in the Bible, but the Bible does tell us that Mary was “full of grace”, (Luke 1:28) or “highly favoured”. What were these favours which Mary received from God? Pope Pius IX infallibly answered this question by including among them Mary’s Immaculate Conception. So this doctrine is not completely new in the Church, because it has been implicitly in the Gospel from the very beginning. The same holds true of the dogma of the Assumption of Our Lady.”

“All the same, the introduction of all these infallible doctrines makes the Catholic Church today very different from the primitive Church, doesn’t it?”

“Great minds think alike, Bill. Cardinal Newman before his conversion had a similar idea. But after several years of study of early Christian writings, he came to the conclusion that the primitive Church bears the same relationship to the modern Catholic Church as a child does to a man. There has been growth and development in the Church without change of identity. Doctrines, which at first were known vaguely, are now known more clearly, together with various logical consequences flowing from them.”

PRIVATE REVELATIONS

“With Cardinal Newman I concede that point, and if your Church kept to what is in the Bible-at least, implicitly-I should not mind so much. But haven’t you also got to believe a lot of new revelations made at Lourdes, Fatima, and so on? How can intelligent people be so credulous?”

“The Pope could not define infallibly the truth of these private revelations. One reason is that they have happened after the death of the last Apostle. Hence a Catholic is not bound to believe them as of divine faith. However, if there is sufficient reason for accepting them, Catholics believe them with human faith. Actually, the Church examines these private revelations very carefully-often over periods of many years-before the faithful are allowed to believe in them. Most of them are rejected as due to illusion. But sometimes there is good reason to believe that they are true, especially when they are accompanied by miraculous cures of diseases.”

MIRACLES

“I don’t wish to disturb your simple faith, Peggy, but hasn’t science explained that miracles are due to auto-suggestion, such as is found among Indian fakirs and others?”

“No, science has explained nothing of the sort. Recently- in 1956-ten eminent doctors of the British Medical Association after two years” special study were forced to admit that certain cures at Lourdes could not be explained by existing scientific knowledge. Indian fakirs do very extraordinary things by the power of mind over matter, but they cannot cure cancer instantaneously (as has been done at Lourdes)-if they could they would be in big demand everywhere.”

“How can you rule out the possibility that at some future date science may produce cures as wonderful as those at

Lourdes?”

“Even if science were to produce a drug which could instantaneously cure cancer, this would not detract from events at

Lourdes in which cancer is cured without any such drug. For Catholics the wonders at Lourdes and elsewhere fulfil the prophecy of Christ that “signs (or wonders) will follow them that believe.” (See Mark 16:17) That is to say, the true

Church of Christ, taken as a whole, will never lack the production of miracles-sufficiently conspicuous for the whole world to see or hear of them.”

THE ACID TEST FOR THE TRUE CHURCH

“I know that the Catholic Church claims to be the true Church, but there are other Churches also claiming to be true Churches. In all these Churches there are learned men who cannot agree which Church is right, how then can ordinary folk like ourselves solve the problem?”

“Our Lord foresaw this difficulty, so He gave an easy test by w hich all unbiased seekers after truth-whether learned or unlearned-could recognize His Church. The test, which He gave, is unity of religious belief.”

“But, Peggy, since all sincere Christians try to follow the teaching and example of Our Lord, aren’t we all one in spirit-both Catholics and Protestants?”

“Yes, there is at least some kind of vague unity between us, but this is not the perfect unity which Christ was thinking of when, at the Last Supper, He prayed to the Father that His followers might be “perfectly one, so that the world may know that You have sent Me.” (See John 17:21) Our Lord intended His followers to have such striking religious unity among themselves that even “the world”-those outside His Church-could easily recognize it.”

“But, can’t Christianity as a whole be easily distinguished from other religions-Islam, Buddhism, etc.?”

“Let’s keep to the point, Bill. We are talking about the internal unity of the true religion. Anyone can see that the Christian Churches, taken as a whole, have not that perfect unity which Christ intended should be a sign of the true Church. On the contrary their disunion among themselves is so striking that it is the scandal of Christendom, and one of the biggest obstacles to the spread of the Christian faith, as many sincere Protestants admit. When we try to convert nonChristians, they tell us: “If you Christians cannot agree among yourselves, how can you expect us to agree with you?” “

“All the same, are not Anglicans, Methodists, Presbyterians, and others, one among themselves-just as Catholics are?”

“No, these Churches uphold the right of private judgement, and consequently have many differences of opinion. As there is no central teaching authority, there is no guarantee of unity of doctrine. For instance, in the Anglican Church Bishop Barnes denied the divinity of Christ, while others held it. Hence the Lambeth Conference was forced to admit that one can’t speak of the doctrine of the Church of England but only of doctrine in the Church of England.”

ARE CATHOLICS REALLY ONE?

“Are there no differences of opinion in the Catholic Church, too?”

“Yes, Bill, Catholics hold different opinions on matters which have not been taught authoritatively by the Church, but on essential religious doctrines they have perfect religious unity. Indeed, Catholic unity has been so evident that the enemies of our Church have never been able to attack it. Instead, they try to throw it at us a reproach, saying that we cannot think for ourselves. There is also our unity of government under the Pope, as shown by constant newspaper reports of pilgrimages to the Holy Father from all over the Christian world-even from distant Australia. So, again when our enemies wish to be unkind to us, since they can’t deny our unity, they call us “papists”-thereby grudgingly admitting our striking unity of government.”

DOES OBLIGATION EXPLAIN CATHOLIC UNITY?

“Cannot Catholic unity be explained by the fact that Catholics are forced to believe the same thing, unlike Protestants who are allowed freedom of belief?”

“The very fact that the Catholic Church imposed an obligation to believe is another proof that it is the only true Church.”

“I”m afraid, Peggy, I don’t follow your reasoning.”

“Let me explain this point fully, because it is important. Our Lord before His Ascension said to His disciples: “Preach the gospel to every creature. He that believes not shall be condemned.” (See Mark 16:15–16) When Christ put this duty of preaching on His Apostles, He evidently put a corresponding duty on their listeners to accept the explanation of the gospel which they preached. We cannot imagine Our Saviour’s meaning to have been: “You must preach the gospel to all, but people need not listen to you. They can believe anything that their private judgement suggests to them.” That would have been unworthy of Christ. He also makes His meaning clear by adding: “He that believes not shall be condemned.” He did not say: “Go and write a Bible, and let them make what they can out of it.” No, He founded a teaching Church to which all must listen under penalty of eternal condemnation. He thus gave His Church authority to teach in His name, and to impose an obligation on all to believe this teaching. Since the Catholic Church alone claims this authority to teach in Christ’s name, it alonecan be the Church which Christ founded.”

WAS TEACHING AUTHORITY GIVEN ONLY TO THE APOSTLES?

“I agree, Peggy, that Christ gave His Apostles authority to teach in His name, just as He gave them power to work miracles in His name. But, since the Catholic clergy today have not inherited the miraculous powers of the Apostles, why should they have inherited the teaching authority of the Apostles?”

“The power of working miracles was a personal gift given to preachers of the gospel in early times. It is nowhere stated in the gospel that this gift was to last till the end of the world. Miracles were necessary at first to guarantee that the teaching of Christianity had God’s approval, and was therefore true. But, nowadays, the striking unity of hundreds of millions of Catholics of all nations, races and classes, is in itself a continual psychological miracle which is sufficient to identify the true Church.”

“I agree that the gift of miracles was for Apostolic times, but so was the teaching authority of the Church- you have not disproved the latter.”

“I was just coming to that, Bill.”

“Sorry, Peggy! Keep going!”

“Before Our Lord ascended into heaven, He gave His last solemn instructions to His Apostles: “As the Father has sent Me, I also send you . . . Going, therefore, teach all nations . . . all things whatsoever I have commanded you . . . And, behold, I am withyou all days even to the end of the world.” (See John 20:21 and Matthew 28:19–20) On this occasion Christ clearly sent the Apostles with authority to teach in His name, and this authority was not a mere personal gift intended only for the lifetime of each, as is evident from the words: “Behold I am with you (that is, in your teaching) all days even to the end of the world.” As the Apostles would not live till the end of the world, it is clear that Our Lord is here speaking to them not as individuals but as a Church, which would exist for all time. So, Christ gave His Church authority to teach infallibly until the end of the world. As I have already said, the Catholic Church alone claims this teaching authority, hence it alone must be the true Church to which all must belong. “He that believes not shall be condemned.” “(See Mark 16:16)

ARE ALL PROTESTANTS DAMNED?

“Is that why your Church holds that all Protestants are damned?”

“Our Church holds nothing of the kind. We interpret Christ’s words as a general law obliging all to enter the Catholic Church. A general law, however, may admit of exceptions, and Our Lord made an exception against the general law of membership of His Church, when He said: “If any one love me, he will keep my word, and my Father will love him, and we will come to him and make our abode with him.” (See John 14:23) This means that sincere love of God with a firm determination to keep His commandments will entitle “any one” (Catholic or Protestant) to God’s friendship. Therefore, a Protestant who is sincerely convinced that his Church is the true Church can be saved; just as a man who drives away in another’s car-thinking it is his own-is saved from sin by his good faith. But, as soon as the latter recognizes that he is in the wrong car, he is bound to give it up; similarly, when a Protestant recognizes that he is in the wrong Church, he is bound to leave it.”

IS GOOD FAITH SUFFICIENT?

“All that’s necessary then is to love God and keep the commandments-one need not belong to any Church.” “Not so fast, Bill. Sincere love of God includes a general desire to do whatever God wants. But God wants every one to enter the Catholic Church. Sincere love of God therefore includes the desire to become a Catholic. One may be unconscious of this obligation, through no fault of one’s own. So, if one is in good faith, one can be saved without being a member of the Catholic Church.”

“I suppose I”m in good faith, anyway.”

“Be careful, Bill. As Monsignor Knox has said: “To-be-in-good-faith is a defective verb. . . . It has no first person singular.” So, you can’t say that you are in good faith, because this would be equivalent to saying: “I know my Church is wrong, but I belong to it believing (in good faith) that it is right.””

“NO SALVATION OUTSIDE THE CHURCH”

“I”m afraid, Peggy, I find this whole explanation rather unsatisfactory. Catholics at one time say that those outside the Church can be saved by sincere love of Christ, and at other times they say the opposite: “Outside the Church no salvation.” No matter how they try to wriggle out of it, these two statements seem to me to be contradictory.”

“I have already explained that a general law may admit of exceptions, and that these exceptions do not involve any contradiction. I have also shown that Protestants, who sincerely love Our Lord, have a desire to do all He wants. Therefore, they desire (at least, unconsciously) to enter the Catholic Church. On this account they are not completely cut off from the Church, as are those who are determined not to becomeCatholics under any circumstances. So, “Protestants in good faith” are those who would readily become Catholics, if they knew that God wanted them to do so. This gives them “a link with the Church”, as Pius XII has said. In other words, they are “on the way” to the Catholic Church. They already have, as it were, “one foot inside the door”, so that to them does not apply the statement: “(Completely) outside the Church no salvation.””

FREEDOM OF THOUGHT

“You seem to know all the answers, Peggy, but do you n ot find that your infallible Church takes away all freedom of thought in religious matters?”

“Not at all. The number of infallible doctrines is relatively small, and outside these there is a very wide range of matters for free discussion. Besides, since we believe that infallible doctrines are guaranteed true by God, we are quite logical in accepting them, because God cannot err. So, to complain that God’s revelation (through the Church) curtails one’s freedom of thought would be as foolish as to say that knowledge of the multiplication table destroys one’s liberty to believe otherwise.”

WHY NOT GO STRAIGHT TO THE BIBLE?

“Why bother about this business of infallibility? Why not go straight to the Bible which is written so simply that anyone can understand it? Isn’t the inspired word of God better than any Pope or priest?”

“The Bible is not so easy to understand as you think. It is often difficult to know whether certain texts should be taken literally or metaphorically. One must also interpret each text so that it does not contradict other parts of the Bible. To do this, one must know all those other parts. Remember, Bill,St. Peter has warned us that certain things in the Bible are “hard to understand, which the unlearned have wrested to their destruction, as they have other Scriptures.” (See 2 Peter 3:16). Christ foresaw this difficulty, so He gave the Church authority toteach the true meaning of the Bible.”

IS THE CHURCH TOTALITARIAN?

“Because the Catholic Church claims so much authority, a lot of people say that it is a totalitarian institution.” “Such people don’t know what they are talking about. A totalitarian government-such as now [1957] exists in Soviet

Russia and Communist China, or North Korea, or North Vietnam, -is one in which all activities are subordinate to the State. In such a regime there can be no true freedom of religion, so in Soviet Russia and Communist China only puppet Churches are allowed. Totalitarianism also destroys freedom in politics, in trade unions and in private enterprise. The Catholic Church stands for all these freedoms, so that it is a calumny to say that she is totalitarian.”

THE BOGEY OF CONFESSION

“All the same, aren’t Catholics priest -ridden, since they are forced to tell all their misdeeds in confession. That must be a pretty awful experience.”

“Catholics are not priest-ridden. In confession (or Penance, or Reconciliation, as it is sometimes called) they tell their sins to God whom the priest represents. The priest cannot use this knowledge in the slightest way. Catholics go to confession because Christ gave the Church the power of forgiving sins when He said to His Apostles: “Whose sins you shall forgive they are forgiven.” (See John 20:23). Neither do Catholics feel that confession is “an awful experience.” On the contrary, they find it a useful check-up on their service of God, and a big help towards leading a better life. This is shown by the fact that so many go so frequently to confession-many of them every week-even though they are obliged to go only once a year. Catholics fulfil their religious duties freely and willingly. You must not imagine, Bill, that the Church is always “shaking the big stick” at us.”

WHY ARE PROTESTANTS WEDDINGS TABOO?

“Catholics may be free in some things, Peggy, but they aren’t as free as Protestants are. For example, in this year of Our Lord 1957, we Protestants are quite free to go to the weddings of our Catholic friends, but Catholics are not free to return the courtesy by coming to our Protestant services. I don’t wish to be unpleasant, but that kind of thing seems to me to be discourteous and bigoted.”

“We Catholics do not avoid Protestant wedding s in order to be discourteous. On the contrary, we naturally find it painful to have to refuse invitations from our Protestant friends on these occasions. Protestants find it hard to understand our attitude in this matter, because their religious outlook is so different to ours. Many Protestants believe that one Church is as good as another, so they do not go against their conscience when coming to our services. With us Catholics it is totally different. We believe that Christ founded one Church-the Catholic Church-and that He has forbidden us to show any approval to other Churches which have broken away from His Church. “He that will not hear the Church,” said Christ, “let him be to you as the heathen.” (See Matthew 18:17) Conscience leaves us no choice in this matter-we must obey Christ rather than please our friends.”

THE SPIRIT OF THE GOOD SAMARITAN

“I don’t see, Peggy, how this attitude fits in with Christ’s teaching in the parable of the Good Samaritan, in which He urges us to be friendly with those who differ from us in religion.”

“I”m glad you brought up this point, Bill, because it will help to clear up a frequent source of misunderstanding. When Our Lord said one must love one’s neighbour as oneself, by “neighbour” He meant people of all religions. So, one must wish well to all, and help them as far as one reasonably can. But this universal love must not contradict other teachings of Christ. It must not lead us to show approval of religious systems which we believe to be false. Briefly, we love Protestants, but we hate their errors as a revolt against Christ’s Church. On this point, we are uncompromising, but not “bigoted”-because bigotry is an ugly word which means the rejection of other people’s opinions without reason. We, on the contrary, have good reasons for rejecting Protestantism, as I have already explained.”

THE INQUISITION

“But, doesn’t the Catholic Church persecute those of other religions when it is able to do so-as in the case of the

Spanish Inquisition?”

“To discuss the Inquisition intelligently one must have a sense of history. Those were cruel times, when Catholics were also tortured-by rack and thumbscrew-in the Tower of London, under the Protestant government of England. English civil law at that time was likewise very harsh judged by modern standards. For example, stealing a handkerchief was punishable by death. Similarly, the Spanish Inquisition was cruel in its methods because it was medieval-not because it was Catholic. Those days are now gone for ever. The Catholic Church does not force one to believe, because such belief would be mere hypocrisy. One’s choice of one’s religion is a matter between God and oneself.”

DOES THE CHURCH COME BETWEEN THE CATHOLIC AND GOD?

“That’s all very well in theory, but in practice don’t you find that your infallible Church-which insists on dictating to you what you must believe-comes between yourself and God?”

“Not in the slightest. On the contrary, it puts us in contact with God, because we hear His voice through the teaching Church just as you hear a friend speaking through a telephone. Christ intended it to be so, when He said to His disciples whom He was training to spread His Church: “He that hears you, hears Me”.” (See Luke 10:16)

THE ONE MEDIATOR

“I thought that you Catholics looked on the Mother of Christ as a kind of mediator between yourselves and Him.” “When we speak of Mary as Mediator-or more correctly Mediatrix-we mean that Mary can pray for us to her Son, and because she is His mother her prayers are always heard. For instance, at her wish Jesus worked His first miracle at Cana, even before His appointed time had come. (See John Chapter 2) Besides, if we can pray for each other, why shouldn’t Mary be able to pray for us, too, and much more effectively? This doctrine is not against St. Paul’s teaching about “the One Mediator, the Man Christ Jesus”, (See 1 Timothy 2:5) because Christ is the one Mediator who alone redeemed the whole world-his mother included. Thus, Christ alone is Mediator in the full sense of the word, in a class all by Himself.”

THE MOTHER OF GOD

“How can you call Mary “the Mother of God”, since God existed before Mary was born?”

“This can be explained simply as follows. When a child is conceived, the mother helps to prepare the body, while God creates the soul. Even still she is rightly called the mother of the whole child. For example, if John is born of Julia, we say that Julia is “the mother of John”, that is, the mother of the person who is John. We do not call her “the mother of John’s body”. Somewhat similarly, because Mary helped to form the human nature of Christ, she is the mother of the Person Who is Christ, that is, Mother of God-since Christ is God.”

WHY STATUES?

“I agree that we should honour Mary as Mother of Christ, but why go to the extreme of praying to statues of her?

Doesn’t the Bible forbid us to make graven images?”

“The Bible forbids us “to make graven images . . . and to adore them”, (See Exodus 20:4&5) it does not forbid images for other purposes. On the contrary, God told Moses to make two images of angels on the sides of the Ark of the

Covenant. (See Exodus 25:18) So, Catholics have statues of Mary to honour her and keep alive her memory. They do not pray to these statues, but before them. The statue itself is honoured merely in so far as it represents Mary, just as a soldier honours a flag which represents his country. Of course, any honour we show to Mary is a delicate compliment to her Son, for Whose sake alone we honour her.”

“BELIEVE IN THE LORD JESUS”

“The Protestant attitude to religion is much simpler: “Believe in the Lord Jesus, and you will be saved”. (Acts 16:31) “No one comes to the Father but by Me.” (John 14:6) Don’t these texts prove that we can go to Christ without belonging to any Church?”

“No! To “believe in the Lord Jesus means to believe sincerely all His teaching. It is only by this means that we can come to the Father. His teaching includes the need of belonging to the Church which He founded: “You are Peter and upon this rock Iwill build my Church . . . He that will not hear the Church let him be to you as the heathen . . . “(See Matthew 16:18 and 18:17) Elsewhere, also, Christ has clearly said that He wants those “other sheep outside the fold” to belong to “the one fold and the one shepherd”. (See John 10:16) During His lifetime on earth, Christ Himself was the Good Shepherd. Before His Ascension He gave this office to St. Peter, when He said: “Feed my lambs. . . . Feed my sheep”. (See John 21:15–17) Peter was thus made the representative of the Good Shepherd, that is, the first Vicar of Christ-in other words, the first Pope. The present Pope now holds the same position as Peter held, and the Catholic Church is “the one fold” to which Christ wills all to belong-including yourself,Bill.”

HOW TO BECOME A CATHOLIC

“You know, I think you’ve solved all my difficulties against your Church, Peggy.”

“If you want any further information, you should go to a Catholic Presbytery and ask to see one of the priests. He would be very glad to hel p you in any way.”

“I think I should prefer to go to yourself. But, here we are at the end of our journey. You certainly have given me a lot to think about. Indeed, I”m already beginning to think that our marriage might not be out of the question after all. So, what about that dance next week?”

“Let’s wait and see how that thinking of yours ends up. Goodbye, Bill!”

“Au revoir, Peggy!”

********

Forbidden And Suspect Societies

BY REV. LAWRENCE L. MCREAVY J.C.D., M.A

INDEX

NONE likes to be told to ‘Keep Off’ this, or ‘Keep Out’ of that, except when the reason for the ban is either obvious or made clear by an added explanation. Every time, therefore, that the Church authorities declare such-and-such an organization or society to be forbidden, or warn us to keep out of it, our first and most natural instinct is to ask why. It is not a bad instinct, as long as it is coupled with a readiness to obey lawful authority, because it was God who gave us our reasoning faculty, and it isour ‘reasonable service’ that He wants.1 The object of this pamphlet is to satisfy this reasonable demand, by explaining what kinds of society the Church has banned, or declared dangerous, and why she has done so.

SOME PRINCIPLES

God made man sociallyinclined. It is part of man’s nature, and therefore one of his natural rights, to club together with his fellows for his and their mutual benefit. The Church has always respected this right, as indeed she must; for she has no warrant to restrict man’s natural rights, except in the measure necessary to the attainment of the end which God set her to achieve. But that far her warrant certainly runs. She was instituted by Christ as the one complete, self-sufficient, and necessary society in the spiritual order, with a divine commission to bind and to loose, to teach and to guide, in a word, to organize and direct the social and personal life of her members in the manner best calculated to bring them to their eternal salvation. For that is the final end to which everything in life was designed by God to serve as a means, and to which, in consequence, everything, human freedom included, must be subordinated.

This is true even of the State. The State is the one supreme, complete, and necessary society in the temporal order, with a divine commission to co-ordinate the activity of its members for their common temporal welfare. But since man’s temporal good is subordinate to his eternal good, it follows that the State, though independent in its own sphere, must shape its policy ultimately with an eye to the same goal as the Church.

Whenever, therefore, there is danger that men may be led away from this goal, by imprudent use of their freedom to form lesser societies within the framework of the Church or the State, it is the duty of the Church, and, within its own sphere, of the State also, to restrain them by warnings, and, if need be, by prohibitions and penalties. In the final issue, of course, every man still retains his basic freedom of will. He is not forced to go to Heaven. He remains free to take the road that leads to Hell. But God wants the road to be signposted by the public authority, and even to be declared officially closed.

We should be grateful for such sign-posts and notices, even when we cannot see the reason for them, for the Church sees further than we do. She has the benefit not only of her collective human wisdom and age-long experience, but also of the guidance and supporting authority of the Holy Spirit. Not all her decisions carry with them the guarantee of infallibility, but all have behind them the assurance of her Master: ‘ He that heareth you, heareth Me.”2 In following her, we shall at least not go astray.

THE LAW OF THE CHURCH

The general law of the Church regarding membership of lesser societies within the Church or State is summarized in two canons of the Code of Canon Law.

1.’ The faithful are deserving of praise, if they join associations erected, or at least commended by the Church; but they must beware of associations which are secret, condemned, seditious, or suspect, or which seek to evade the legitimate vigilance of the Church.’-Canon 684.

2. ‘Those who give their names to the Masonic sect, or to other associations of the same kind, which plot against the Church or legitimate civil powers, incur by that very fact an excommunication which is reserved, in the simple manner, to the Holy See.’-Canon 2335.

1 Romans xii. 1. 2. Luke x. 16.

THE APPLICATION OF THE LAW

The law distinguishes between societies according to their particular character; but the terms used, ‘secret, condemned, seditious, suspect, evasive,’ are not mutually exclusive, for a given society may well deserve to be branded by several of these epithets. It will therefore help to a better understanding of the law if we distinguish between societies according rather to the manner and degree in which the Church condemns or stigmatizes them. Considered from this point of view, they fall into three main categories: first, societies banned under pain of sin and excommunication; secondly, those banned under pain of sin, but not of excommunication; and thirdly, those which are merely declared to be suspect, and therefore deserving of the special vigilance of local ecclesiastical authorities.

I. SOCIETIES BANNED UNDER PAIN OF SIN AND EXCOMMUNICATION

The archetype, or principal example, of a society banned under pain of sin and excommunication is the Masonic sect, or society of Freemasons.1 This society derives, in its modern form, from the Grand Lodge of England, founded in London in 1717. From its very inception, it has always been a secret society, binding its members to keep certain of its activities secret even from legitimate public authority, and, as such, it first came under the ban of the Church in 1738.2 As a matter of historical fact, it has consistently used its secrecy to enable it to conduct an underground campaign against the Church, or the legitimate civil government. This is particularly true of Masonry in its common continental form, as evolved under the aegis of the Grand Orient Lodge of France. It is less evidently true of the Masonry associated with the English Grand Lodge, which has traditionally maintained a close relationship with members of the Royal family and of the Established Church. But the condemnation passed by the Holy See is not based exclusively on the fact of subversive plotting, and is therefore not conditional on the proof of such plotting. The Church objects primarily to the secrecy which prevents her from exercising her legitimate function of vigilance, and so makes it possible for lodges to organize subversive movements under cover, as they certainly have done, and not infrequently. Moreover, as steward of the divinely revealed and supernatural religion of Christ, which all men are commanded by God to embrace, she objects to the naturalistic philosophy of life which has always been characteristic of Masonry in all its forms, and to its consequent indifferentism in regard to religious creeds.

It is idle to quote the cultural and philanthropic activities in which the Masonic lodges of this or that country may seem to the outside observer to be principally engaged. Culture and philanthropy are not the final objects of human existence, and their pursuit cannot compensate for a radically false view of life. Nor is it relevant to instance the fact that English Masonry recognizes the ‘Great Architect of the Universe,’ and actually broke with the Grand Orient, when the latter ceased to do so. A vague Deism is no substitute for the one true religion of Christ, which all men are bound bydivine law to profess and practise. ‘He that is not with Me, is against Me,’ said Our Lord: ‘and he that gathereth not with Me, scattereth.’ 3

It is clear from the wording of Canon 2335, quoted above, that the prohibition under pain of excommunication applies not only to Masonry, but to any other societies ‘of the same kind,’ which plot against the Church or State. Some of these similar societies have already been expressly designated by the Holy See, for example, the Italian sect of Caybonari,4 and the Irish or American sect of Fenians.5 Others incur the excommunication by being affiliated to Masonic lodges, as are, or were, many of the earlier societies founded for the promotion of cremation. For the rest, we must decide according to the facts, whether or not they fulfil the conditions indicated in the canon; and since it is a penal law, we are justified in interpreting these conditions in their exact and narrow sense.

Two conditions are required in order that a society may be said to be ‘of the same kind’ as Masonry, and therefore

1 Cf. Freemasonry, by Rev. Humphrey J. T. Johnson,. . . . , H.316.

2 Clement XII, Apostolic Letter, In Eminenti, 28 April, 1738. The condemnation was renewed by Benedict XIV, in

1761; by Leo XII, in 1821; by Gregory XVI, in 1832; by Pius IX, in 1846 1849, 1854, 1864; and at great length by Leo XIII, in his encyclical, Humanum Genus, of 20 April, 1884.

3. Matthew xii. 30.

4 Condemned under censure by decree of the Holy Office, 13 September, 1821.

5 Condemned under censure by decree of the Holy Office, 12 January, 1870. to incur the same excommunication. First, it must be really a secret society, for clandestinity has always been a principal characteristic of Masonry and a primary reason for its condemnation; and secondly, it must plot or scheme in some way to overthrow or undermine the authority of the Catholic Church, or of the legitimate civil government. It need not make a secret of its opposition to the Church or civil power, nor keep its scheming under cover, nor exact an oath of secrecy from its members; but at least it must bind them to keep secret such things as its constitutions or leaders may require, and to refuse to divulge them even at the lawful demand of the ecclesiastical or civil authority. If either of these conditions is not fulfilled, for example, if a society imposes secrecy on its members, but does not scheme against legitimate authority, or if it schemes, but without binding its members to secrecy, it may, as we shall see, be condemned, but its members will not incur the excommunication of Canon 2335.1

Communism provides a practical example of the application of this principle. The Communist Party is a prohibited organization which the Church forbids her subjects, under pain of grave sin, either to join or support; and those who go so far as to profess its materialist and anti-Christian doctrines, unquestionably incur excommunication by reason of their apostasy from the Faith.2 But the party, as such, cannot be classed as a society of the Masonic type, because, although it plots against both Church and State, it is not, properly speaking, a secret society. It may well be that it has inner cells which are secret societies in the canonical sense of the words; if so, the members of such cells certainly incur the excommunication of Canon 2335. But the party, as such, cannot be classed as secret, for it has publicly known leaders, public meetings, and a public programme, nor does it appear to bind the ordinary party member to secrecy, merely on the ground that he is a member. Hence the ordinary party member does not, by the mere fact of joining, incur the excommunication levelled against societies of the Masonic type.3

An excommunication is a censure by which a subject of the Church is excluded from the communion of the faithful and deprived of the ordinary rights which the faithful enjoy. It is a medicinal penalty which is meant to cure obstinate offenders, and can therefore be incurred only by those who are guilty subjectively, as well as objectively, of the crime specified in the law; moreover, it will be readily lifted by the Church, as soon as they repent of their sin and show their readiness to repair it. To incur the excommunication attached to societies of the Masonic type, therefore, a person must be fully aware of the true character of the society which he is joining, or in which he decides to stay, and must realize that his action is forbidden under penalty. If he does not realize this, or if he leaves the society as soon as he can, after becoming aware of it, he may indeed be regarded by the external courts of the Church as being under censure, until he proves the contrary, but he will not have incurred it in the court of conscience, or in the eyes of God.

The excommunication is a reserved censure, which means that a person who has incurred it, cannot be absolved from it except by a confessor specially empowered to do so. Moreover, he will normally be required, first of all, to resign from the society and cease consorting with its members, and to surrender any books, manuscripts, or signs connected with the society which may be in his possession.

II. SOCIETIES BANNED UNDER PAIN OF SIN ONLY

Since excommunication is a drastic penalty, it is normally reserved for extreme cases. More commonly, therefore, when the Church wants to ban a society, she limits herself to a simple prohibition. It is objectively gravely sinful for any subject of the Church to ignore such a prohibition, and if his sin is public and he remains obdurate, he will normally be denied access to the sacraments ; but in this case his exclusion is due simply to his patent unworthiness, and ceases with it.

1 They may however incur excommunication on some other ground. Thus, by a recent decree of the Sacred Congregation of the Council, 29 June, 1950, anyone who plots against legitimate ecclesiastical authorities, or strives in any way to overthrow their power, or participates directly or indirectly in such an attempt, incurs excommunication, reserved in the special manner to the Holy See.

2.Decree of the Holy Office, 1 July, 1949.

3 This appears to be the conclusion reached by the Holy Office, for it would not otherwise have declared membership of the party to be forbidden merely under pain of sin.

This simple form of prohibition attaches, first, to all societies which, while they do not plot against Church or State, seek, nevertheless, to withdraw themselves from the legitimate vigilance of the Church, by requiring their members to maintain secrecy concerning their leaders, constitutions, or activities, even in face of a legitimate demand of the Church to be informed on such matter.1

Secondly, it attaches to all societies which, even though they maintain no secrecy of the type described, are nevertheless of a seditious character, inasmuch as they seek to attain their ends, laudable or otherwise, by methods which are subversive or disruptive of public order. For, though it is not necessarily a crime to seek to change an existing form of government, even of legitimate government, it may only be done by means which respect the principle of authority; ‘for there is no power but from God, and those that are, are ordained of God; therefore, he that resisteth the power, resisteth the ordinance of God.’ 2

Thirdly, there are a number of societies which have been expressly banned by name, though without canonical penalty, either because they are secret or seditious, or because they involve some other danger to faith or morals. Among those which have been prohibited over the last sixty years, the following are the principal examples.

1. Certain Societies for promoting the Union of Christendom

In a letter of 16 September, 1864, the Holy Office required the English Bishops to instruct the faithful not to join an interdenominational society, which had been founded in London,in 1857, ‘for promoting the union of Christendom,’ or any others like it. The reason given was that the society was based on a completely false conception of the Church, as consisting of three branches, the Roman, the Greek, and the Anglican, each with an equal right to call itself the true Church of Christ; and that to join or support such a society was bound to foster religious indifferentism. On more than one recent occasion the Holy Office has ordered the above ruling to be observed by Catholics, and to be applied even to meetings and conferences called by non-Catholics for the same purpose.3

2. The Independent Order of Good Templars

This society was condemned in a reply of the Holy Office, dated 9 August, 1893. No reason was given, but since the reply expressly declined to answer a question whether the society were subject to the Masonic excommunication, and was content simply to declare it forbidden, it would appear that, in the official view, its secrecy was not coupled with subversive plotting.

3. The Odd-Fellows, Sons of Temperance, and Knights of Pythias

These three bodies were simultaneously condemned in an instruction of the Holy Office to the Apostolic Delegate in the U.S.A., 20 August, 1894, according to which the faithful were to be warned not to become, or remain, members of these societies, under pain of being denied access to the sacraments. No reason was given in the instruction, but it is a known fact that all these societies impose an unlawful measure of secrecy on their members, and that they profess and practise a naturalistic form of religious worship. The condemnation4 must be taken to apply equally to the Rebekahs, and to the Pythian Sisters, which are affiliated female versions of the Odd-Fellows and Knights of Pythias respectively.

1 Cf. Canon 684; also a decree of the Holy Office, 10 May, 1884. This condemnation does not apply to those Catholic societies which, while keeping certain things secret from non-members, do not attempt to resist the legitimate inquiries of the Church authorities.

2. Romans xiii. 1–2. 3 Cf. replies dated 4 July, 1919, and 8 July, 1927. The Church is, of course, anxious for Christian unity, and Benedict XV, 25 February, 1916, approved the observance of the Church Unity Octave, held annually from 18 to 25 January; but she cannot approve a movement based on the denial of her claim to be the one true Church. Unity can only come by the return of the dissident bodies to the one fold, under the one shepherd. 4 We are informed that the American Order of Odd Fellows, against which, presumably, the condemnation was primarily directed, broke away from the Manchester Unity branch of the Order in the early nineteenth century, for ritualistic reasons which do not apply to this and other branches of the Order in England. These latter cannot therefore be said to be directly affected, unless the local Ordinary should rule otherwise.

4. Spiritualist Societies

In a reply dated 27 April, 1917, the Holy Office declared it unlawful to assist, with or without a ‘medium,’ at any spiritualistic communications or manifestations whatsoever, even such as may appear to be blameless or pious, whether by asking questions of the souls or spirits, or listening to the answers, or merely looking on, even with a tacit or express protestation that one does not want to have anything to do with evil spirits. It follows that no Catholic may join, or participate in a spiritualist society, even for purely scientific reasons.

5. Theosophic Societies

These were condemned by a decree of the Holy Office, 18 July, 1919, in which it was declared ‘that theosophic doctrines, as they are nowadays called, are incompatible with Catholic doctrine, and that it is therefore unlawful to join theosophic societies, to take part in their meetings, or to read their books, periodicals, journals, or writings.’ Theosophy is a pantheistic philosophy of life, oriental in origin, which was modernized by Madame Blavatsky, founder of the Theosophical Society in New York, in 1875, and popularized by her disciple, Mrs Besant. As evidence of its incompatibility, with Catholic doctrine, it is sufficient to point out that it denies the existence of a personal God, and personal immortality.

6. The Friends of Israel Society

This organization was abolished and prohibited by decree of the Holy Office, 25 March, 1928. It had been founded with the laudable intention of promoting the conversion of the Jews, and numbered among its members and supporters, not only many priests, but even some Bishops and Cardinals. The Holy Office paid tribute, in the decree, to its laudable intentions, and took occasion to reprobate ‘that spirit of hatred against the once chosen people of God, which is called antisemitism.’ Nevertheless, it found it necessary to suppress the society because it had eventually ‘ adopted a manner of acting and speaking which is quite contrary to the spirit of the Church. ‘

7. The Communist Party

Membership of the Communist Party was forbidden under pain of grave sin by a decree of the Holy Office, 1 July, 1949. As we have already remarked, it may not be a secret society in the normal sense of the term, but it is certainly subversive. Moreover, even though it may pretend to leave its members free to practise their religion, it indoctrinates them with a materialist and anti-Christian philosophy. This philosophy itself had, of course, long been condemned, and as the above decree points out, to adopt it is an act of apostasy, which, if it be deliberate, automatically involves excommunication.

III. SOCIETIES DECLARED SUSPECT OR DESERVING OF CAUTION The principal threat to the purity of the Catholic faith, in modern times, does not so much arise from the open attack of its declared enemies, as from the general atmosphere of religious indifferentism in which most Catholics have to pass their daily lives. All societies which are impregnated with this atmosphere may be said to be, in greater or less degree suspect.

In the sixteenth century, when the unity of western Christendom was disrupted by that wave of heresy and schism which is so inappropriately called the Reformation, the sects which broke away from the Catholic Church had at least this much in common with Catholics, that they believed religious truth to be knowable and were convinced that they alone possessed it in its purity and entirety. Splinter groups, like the Elizabethan establishment in this country, and the Church of Calvin at Geneva, began by believing that every other Christian body save themselves was gravely and sinfully wrong, and ought to be suppressed by law. It took quite a while before they came to realize the intrinsic absurdity of their claim, but when eventually they began to yield to the logic of faith, reason, and history, unwilling still to admit that they had erred in leaving the one really historic Catholic Church, they fell back on the bland assumption that everyone alike was out of step, that Christ’s prayer and promise had failed, and that no individual Church had a unique claim to be that one true Church which He Himself had declared would never fail. Hence, for their primitive ideal of converting all others to their way of thinking, they substituted a practical policy of pooling their respective contributions in a union of churches, and ironing out their differences by the simple process of agreeing to ignore them. This latitudinarian attitude in theology, which became almost universal among the non-Catholic sects in the nineteenth century, eventually filtered down to the man in the street in the form of religious indifferentism; so that, nowadays, few non-Catholics attach any great importance to what a man believes, as long as his behaviour is not socially objectionable. Indeed, the only dogma that is any longer acceptable to the majority, whether or not they profess to be Christians, is that there should be no dogmatizing about religious truth, and that Christianity is best conceived as a rather superior code of ethics.

It is in this atmosphere that most Catholics have to live nowadays. They cannot hope to escape it altogether while they remain in the world, because it permeates everywhere, not only in the press, radio, theatre and cinema, but also through every relationship and association, industrial, professional, cultural, and recreational, which brings Catholics into contact with non-Catholics. The Church neither hopes nor seeks to shield the faithful from all occasions in which they are exposed to this atmosphere, poisonous though it be to orthodoxy; but she would be failing in her duty if she did not strive to seclude them at least from those occasions in which the danger is most real and imminent. In actual fact, the danger is most real, because most effectively concealed, precisely in those societies which set themselves to promote good conduct or good works among their members, but yet do so independently of the faith, sacraments, and moral authority of the one true Church, founded by Christ, who alone is ‘the way, the truth, and the life.1” Precisely because they profess a noble ideal, the unwary Catholic is less likely to suspect any danger to his faith in joining them, and the danger is thereby increased. It is, of course, possible for a man to imbibe religious indifferentism in his trade union, or golf club; but he is far more likely to do so in an ethical or philanthropic society. It is, therefore, more particularly in regard to associations of this kind that the Church nowadays summons the Bishops to exercise their pastoral vigilance.

The two most publicized examples in recent times have been the warnings issued in regard to the Y.M.C.A. and the Rotary Clubs.

1. The Young Men’s Christian Association

In a circular letter dated 5 November, 1920, the Holy Office called the attention of the Bishops to the fact that some modern non-Catholic associations involve a danger to faith, especially to that of Catholic youth; because, although their declared purpose is simply to cultivate the character and habits of youth by good training, they make a religion of this culture, and base it on complete freedom of thought, unhampered by any denominational creed or affiliation. Young Catholics who join such associations are brought thereby into contact with men who communicate to them their own fluctuating and questioning attitude to religious truths, and substitute for their traditional faith a vague and undefined form of religion which is certainly not that of Christ. They profess. to be guides in good living, but in fact they foster religious indifferentism.

‘Among these associations,’ the letter continues, ‘it will suffice to mention one which is, as it were , the parent of many others, being extremely widespread (especially owing to its valuable relief service during the War), and backed by immense resources, namely, the Young Men’s Christian Association, or Y.M.C.A. It has the undiscerning support, not only of well-meaning non-Catholics, who think it salutary to all, or at least harmful to none, but also of some easy-going Catholics who are blind to its true nature. It proclaims its sincere love of youth, as though it had nothing more at heart than to serve their bodily and mental welfare; but at the same time it weakens their faith, under the pretext of purifying it and giving them a better knowledge of the true life “above every church and independently of any religious creed.”’

The letter concludes, therefore, by calling upon Bishops everywhere ‘ to guard young people carefully from the contagion of such societies, to provide and foster Catholic societies, and to agree among themselves, in regional meetings, on measures suitable to meet the situation.

2. Rotary Clubs

The Church’s attitude to Rotary is inspired by similar motives. Rotary is neither a secret nor a subversive 1 john xiv. 6. association. Its object is to unite together men representative of the various professions in their locality, to set before them a code of private and professional conduct, to gather them for a weekly luncheon rounded off with an informative talk, and to organize their corporate activity for social and philanthropic purposes. All this seems innocent enough to the undiscerning eye, and yet the Holy Office, in a decree of 22 December, 1950, thought it necessary to forbid clerics to be members of Rotary Clubs, or to assist at their meetings, and called the attention of the faithful to Canon 684, which, as we have seen, bids them beware of associations which are secret, condemned, seditious, suspect, or evasive of the legitimate vigilance of the Church.1

Since Rotary is neither secret, nor seditious, and has never yet been formally condemned by the Church, the implication is clearly that it is in some way suspect and deserving of caution. And we can easily guess the reason for the Church’s suspicion. By presenting itself as a guide to good living, in complete independence of any denominational creed or moral authority, Rotary encourages the all too common view that man is his own sufficient guide in interpreting the moral law, that any creed will do, and that no particular religion is obligatory. In other words, like the Y.M.C.A., and other such cultural and philanthropic associations, it tends to beguile the unwary Catholic into moral naturalism and religious indifferentism. Moreover, it would appear that in some countries it has become infected by Masonic and anti-clerical elements.

The extent to which the official suspicion is warranted in any particular area, is clearly a question of fact which can only be judged in the light of local circumstances, and which the Holy Office therefore leaves the Bishops to decide locally. Bishops who find that, in their particular area, the suspicion is well founded, are expected to take appropriate measures, even to the extent of forbidding their lay subjects to be members of the local Rotary Clubs. On the other hand, Bishops who are satisfied that the danger is not great locally, or that adequate safeguards have already been provided, may remain silent. Unless, therefore, the danger is real and obvious, or scandal is likely to be caused, laymen can safely and conscientiously await the guidance of their own pastors in regard to their attitude to Rotary.

It should hardly be necessary to add that there is room for caution, not only in regard to those societies which have been the object of an express and official warning, but in regard to any association which involves a real danger to faith or morals. Catholics cannot hermetically seal themselves off from contact with non-Catholics, nor should they seek to do so; but they are expected to use prudence in preserving the precious treasure of their faith, to be alert to the many dangers inevitable to life in the largely pagan world of today, and not to expose themselves to such hazards rashly or unnecessarily. He that would sup with the devil, should use a long spoon, says the proverb. The Church issues warnings only when she feels that real dangers are being overlooked: she expects us to notice and avoid the obvious ones. Moreover, even though a given individual may feel strong enough in his faith and firm enough in his moral principles to withstand the danger involved in membership of this or that society or group, it does not follow that he is always justified in becoming or remaining a member. If the society is condemned, he may neither join nor remain in it; for ‘laws made to guard against a general danger continue to bind, even though, in a particular case, the danger does not arise.’ 2 And even when it is a case of a society that is merely suspect, he should bear in mind that, by becoming or remaining a member of it, he may lead weaker brethren into a danger which they cannot withstand. God requires us to use our freedom, not merely with prudence, but also with charity.

1 According to an unsigned, but obviously authoritative article in the semi-official Vatican newspaper, Osservatore Romano, 27 January, 1951, the prohibition affecting clerics applies only to meetings which are exclusive to Rotarian members and deal with Rotarian affairs, and does not therefore prevent clerics from attending meetings which are open to non-members, and are called for purposes compatible with priestly activity.

2 Canon 21 of the Code of Canon Law.

********

Forever And Forever

BY DANIEL LORD, S.J

INDEX

ORDINARILY, Glen Murray admitted he was something of a marathon sleeper-claimed a world’s championship or two, in fact. “When I turn in at night,” he often bragged to his friends at the club, “I pull up the covers, flash out the bed light, bury my left ear in the pillow-”

“Always the left ear?” his friends would inquire in mock skepticism.

“Always the left ear,” he would reply emphatically. “And the next thing I know, the alarm clock is doing its little solo, and I lean out of bed and choke it between my powerful thumb and forefinger. In other words, I”11 challenge any three sleepers to outsleep me at any time, any place, anyhow.”

“Any time?” again queried his friends.

“Well, any time except-two or three times a year. Then something goes screwy, and I lose the combination that opens the good old gates of sleep.”

EXCEPT

“Perhaps the Sand Men’s Local number thirteen has had a walk-out.”

“Maybe. Perhaps old man Morpheus was taking a night off himself. Whatever is wrong, I go to bed feeling tired enough to sleep around the clock. I perform the full routine, including digging in with the good old left ear, and then, for some unknown reason, the goddess of sleep gives me a frosty eye. In fact, she must be out on a private date of her own, for all my most adroit wooing doesn’t get a nod from her, much less forty winks. I roll and toss”

“We know,” his friends agreed, unsympathetically. “We all go through it.”

“Of course,” was Murray’s impatient retort. “Most people do. The point I am making is that with me it is altogether out of the ordinary.”

ONE OF THOSE NIGHTS

“Clearly,” Murray muttered, as he flashed on the bed light and looked at the alarm clock near his bed “this is going to be one of the out-of-theordinary nights.”

The quietly ticking clock indicated three-thirty, its hands forming an accusing right triangle, the legs of which slowly and rheumatically dragged themselves apart.

Murray glared at the clock indignantly. He had been in bed a good hour and a half and the magic formula for sleep simply escaped him. He had counted sheep and included a few black ones, until he felt he could never again look a lamb chop in the face. He had counted up to a thousand, counted in the approved rhythmic monotony and he felt fresh enough to start another thousand, and make fair headway toward a possible million.

Yet there was every reason why he should be dead tired. In the shaded light of his bed lamp he looked about the disordered room—his dress clothes folded neatly on a chair, his soiled dress skirt a white splotch on the rug near his dresser, gloves and a stick across another chair, and, on the table, near the lamp—Her Husband.

He reached out and picked up the gardenia, which lay within easy grasp of his fingers. Ah! Perhaps that was why he had not beenable to sleep, though you’d think a lot of tossing might precede that important decision, not follow it. For she was usually like a wave of peace to his soul, a fragrant garden in which he walked, drinking in the sedative that is beauty.

Though neither had put it into words, both knew that he had made his decision that very night.

“I saw Phil in the Plaza grill this noon,” he said, though he was sure that would not interest her.

“His divorce was not likely to keep him long in mourning. I”m sure he was much more relieved even than I was, and that’s saying a lot.”

“He looked well.” “Doesn’t he always?”

DECISIONS

Murray agreed that he did. In fact, Phil looked, if anything, too charming and attractive. Phyllis caught his thought, a flattering trick she had, and put it into words.

“Yes,” she said, “Phil always looked so well that I knew I couldn’t trust him. He looked well to too many women. I preferred a man who would rather look well to me alone. Anyway, our names” (she threw the whole matter off with her delightful laughter), “Phil and Phyllis, were too awful. We sounded like a small-time dancing act. It was just as well that we parted before our relations became something for the police to settle.”

But Murray knew, as she talked, that he was settling something vastly important to him. He had been sure he loved her when she was still Phil Seward’s wife. He knew he loved her now. The divorce was six months old, and the slight gossip that eddied up around it had settled down. He had gone to her, first, out of a blend of love and pity and admiration for her gameness under what was, to say the least, an annoying publicity.

A CHOICE

He had gone out with her because she fascinated him as no other woman in his experience had ever done. And his mounting love was now a thing which he recognised as past his control. In fact, he had known it for weeks. He admitted it to himself tonight (again he looked at the clock); last night, of course, he meant. It was now glasses in a toast to midnight, and, later, when, at her apartment, he kissed her good-night.

Why he had not, there and then, asked her to marry him made him feel a bit curious. He thought he had been held back by any number of reasons. First of all, he felt that she deserved something better than a “Will you?” muttered in a hushed voice, under a dim light, outside the elevator of her apartment house. She might, he felt, contrast it sharply with what must have been Phil Seward’s polished, almost poetic, proposal. You only had to know Phil slightly to be sure his proposal would have been a masterpiece.

WHY NOT?

Besides (he confessed it now as the hands of the clock showed a quarter to four), there was something else. A religious scruple, confound the fool thing! One would think that, after six years away from the Church, marriage with a divorced woman one was lucky enough to love would be just another hurdle to takein one’s stride. But it wasn’t quite.

“Oh, well-”

He flicked off the light once more, and with a firm gesture tucked his left ear again into the pillow.

“Tomorrow’s Friday, and the first,” he groaned. “All the piled-up work of the end of the week and the first of the month! It’s likely I”11 not see Phyllis in any case until Saturday evening.

“And, if I don’t get sleep-one, two, three, four, five, six, seven . . .”

He counted a hundred, a second hundred, a fifth and sixth hundred.

IT CAN’T GO ON

Then, once more, sheep, like figures in a slow-motion picture, hurdled the fence with a floating, unreal grace, and then, as if the projector had suddenly broken, seemed to pause in mid-air, floating, like fleecy, if decidedly substantial, clouds.

He cursed softly. “Here, here!” he muttered. “This can’t go on forever.”

The beat of his measured counting suddenly, and without his noticing it, transferred itself to that lovely word of vowels and mutes and liquids that had concluded his last exclamation.

“Forever, forever, forever,” he began to chant in the back of his brain, his lips slightly smiling at the silly things one does and says under the influence of a sleepless dawn.

“Forever and forever,” he thought, sharply conscious that he was not one millimeter closer to sleep. “Forever and forever.”

Wasn’t that the name of a play? Surely, at least, one syrupy song had been called that. It was something for the crooners to drool over. Beautiful word, though! Beautiful phrase! The very essence of a lover’s oath! He smiled into the dawn.

“I shall love you, Phyllis, forever and forever.”

A PROMISE

A large promise. Probably Phil had assured her of just that, and his forever has proved to be a matter of months. “Let’s see,” he mused. “If we start to measure my “forever and forever,” why, I”m thirty-six. She is at least thirty-two.

First love lasts, I suppose, somewhere between two years and five. Then, if you are lucky, congenial companionship succeeds. That lasts until . . . death cuts into the heart of forever, snaps it into clipped little syllables . . .” Wide awake in the dark, his brain suddenly snapped back to a long forgotten memory.

“And, then” (his brain continued to form words not of his own choosing), “and then forever and forever really begins.”

FLEETING FOREVER

He flung himself restlessly on his right side.

“Sounds like a phrase out of a high school retreat,” he muttered, and set himself determinedly to sleep, thereby banishing beyond recall whatever of slumber had hovered by his bedside.

“Forever and forever,” his brain went on clicking, without his volition, “but not with Phyllis. I”11 promise her that, and, sweet sophisticate that she is, she will accept my promise as if it meant what it said. Butwe’ll both know—know the fickleness and fleetingness of our passion, know the transitory companionship that is love, know the sagging of companionship into boredom, know the inevitability of its end in death, and, then forever and forever and forever.”

THE PROBLEM

Now he was fully aroused. His naturally keen mind, a mind that had trained itself to crack open a problem and pull out each last rich fragment of nut-meat it contained, doggedly and almost avidly seized this word. With knitted eyebrows, he proceeded to break the word open. “Forever.” A queer word. Could a man fathom it? He was a lawyer. Even as a young and aggressive prosecutor, he had sent criminals up for life. He knew what life imprisonment could mean, going on hopelessly, “from now on,” and if you were friendless and not lucky enough to be valuable to some gang, without prospects of a reprieve. That was forever.

No. He shook his head, repudiating the explanation. Some day a merciful figure that slipped past turnkeys and wardens, defyingthe high walls and endlessly barred doors of the prison, would open the lifer’s cell. That was not forever. Death ended life imprisonment.

UNTIL RELEASE

He remembered, for the first time in five years or more, the old lawyer with whom he had first been associated. He remembered noting with pity the twisting of his hands through arthritis and the slow knotting of his whole body into a tortured skein of agony. When last he had called to see the old fellow before his death, he had touched his hand in friendship, and the lawyer on the bed wailed in an anguish that was hardly human.

They had later rested him, he heard, on an air cushion, and the breath of wind across him played on those tortured nerves like the harsh hands of some vandal mercilessly grabbing at a harp.

“No cure,” said the physician, who walked with him into the corridor on the occasion of his last visit. “He is going to suffer this forever.”

Again Murray shook his head. No, that was not forever. The pain that knotted his nerves into hard centres of agony would some day grasp his throat for a last throttling that might be singularly merciful, and all would be over.

Murray smiled grimly as he saw how the word “forever” cracked wide the narrow limits of a deadly disease, and went searching out for limitless time and space.

FAR, FAR BACK

Now, thoroughly aroused at the fascination of the simple word which had been, first, the rhythmic measure of his sleeplessness, and the poetic promise of his love, his active reasoning joined hands with his imagination to slip far out into time.

In quick retrospect he saw the universe evolving from gas and stardust, from molten masses of whirling fire, to sun and planets and earth in mighty solar systems, till gas grew cool and crusts formed, and vegetation in watery depths were nibbled by fish that rose to the surface, took clumsily to wing, and in time bore their offspring in some lush, incredible jungle, where, later, skyscrapers towered above man at his work and play.

Yet, somewhere, sometime, by whatever first impulse you will, all this had to begin. It had not always been. It was not something that had always existed. Though the measure of its slow unfolding was not a measure of minutes, but of uncounted ages; Murray’s mind could still go back to chaos and a beginning. Even that was not forever.

AND FORWARD

So he pushed ahead. America would fall as Babylon and Egypt and the ancient cities of Nineveh and Troy and Carthage had fallen. Slowly, but inevitably, the sun itself would cool. He could imagine the earth dwellers of some distant day shivering to their deaths between fields of ice. The resistless unwinding of the world’s cycle would go on, until, like some ancient clock, suns ceased to whirl, the wheels that were the earths and planets and moons would grow rusty, weary, and halt in their revolution, moons would fall heavily through space, and chaos reign once more.

It might be after more years than he could write in zeros on the sides of the Rockies, but when it came, and after it came, the end of all this familiar universe, the winding, up of this world that shelters man, that would still not be forever.

AN OLD COMPARISON

Somewhere out of his memory Murray recalled a comparison. Who had used it? By an effort of his memory he associated it with a serious face, white, atop a black cassock. But the name of the man was gone, as most things connected with his outgrown faith were gone. This problem of forever, he recalled rather hurriedly, was not one of faith. It was the problem of a man, too tired to sleep, who let his brain course down a tricky problem, the finding of whose answer might leave him free to sleep.

Ah, yes, the comparison!

“Suppose” (he could almost hear the priest’s words) “a ball of solid steel, vast as the earth, hanging in space by some chain that fastened it to a ring of Saturn. Suppose, each thousand years, a humming bird brushes with his wings against the ball.

He returns, this little fluff of vibrant feather, each millennium, until the ball of steel, once vast as the earth, is worn down to a tiny fragment of steel that, with a last sweep of his wing, he flings out into chaos. Suppose, with each succeeding thousand years, the humming bird brushes the chain, link by link, until, from earth up to Saturn, each burnished link has been blown in dust far into space.

How long before that humming bird, weary from his task, would finally see the earth-large ball, the steel chain that hung from Saturn, reduced to the fine grey dust to which his recurring wing had brushed it? How long? And still, that is not forever.”

BEYOND COUNT

He smiled into the darkness with wide-open eyes, knowing that the problem, defying any figures known to mathematics, still eluded the boundaries of his imagination. He had still not reached forever. It was absurd. It was intriguing. It was a problem too big for human solution.

Yet, when next he met Phyllis, he would swear to love her forever and forever, and promise himself with her a life endlessly blissful.

WASTED SLEEP

The gaunt, slightly rheumatic minute hand of his clock pointed warningly toward the hour. Fou r o‘clock. And he must be up at seven to face a piled desk that waited for him at his office.

Silly to let his sleep be stolen by the very word he had used as a rhythm to induce his sleep. Silly to become engrossed with a word as impersonal as infinity, as unrelated to himself as . . .

Almost like the stroke of a small mallet against his forehead, he felt an idea strike him sharply. It struck him with real impact, like a physical blow. Impersonal? Unrelated? Was it, this strange haunting word? The idea brought him bolt upright in bed. He reached out again for the light and then pulled back his hand almost convulsively.

If immortality, that dream of all philosophers, that promise of all faiths and creeds, that recurrent craving of all men and women, of all nations and ages, were true . . .

THE REAL “HE.”

If he, as his forgotten (no, not forgotten, but long sloughed off, buried, hidden) religion taught—if he was halfcorrupting flesh and half-enduring spirit . . .

If, when his body dropped to dust, as, cynically, he recalled it must and would; if then the real he of will and reasoning and personality went on forever . . .

He shuddered.

A curious blend of imagination and reasoning forced him to see himself suddenly imprisoned in that word “forever.” It was as if he saw the consonants as so many bars, the vowels as small prison portholes, and himself caught in the dungeon of a word. He felt about him bars he could not shake nor bend nor split, portholes through which all torturing squeezing failed to force his imprisoned soul.

He was, as he saw it, caught in that prison-house of forever.

CAUGHT

Now, looking forward, he saw a hideous, terrifying, nightmarish possibility: The world crashing into chaos, the stars falling headlong back into a sea of gas, the towering cities of earth melting, as the universe is poured back into the seething cauldron of primaeval fire—and yet he, he the man, he Glen Murray, still living, still existing, still imprisoned in that cellhouse made up of the consonants and vowels of the word “forever.” . . .

He saw the humming bird, with the triumphant final flick of his wing, brushing into dust the last steel atom, to which, through incredible ages, he had slowly worn the steel ball and its links, and then fluttering back from Saturn’s outer ring down in fulfilment of a final destiny. Yet he, Glen Murray, still somewhere, living, knowing, groping, captured in that terrifying prison that was forever!

LAUGHTER

In the darkness he laughed aloud. Strange how the small hours and sleeplessness league together to make a man’s nerves wince at strange sounds, tremble as a shadow moves across a drawn blind, and scamper about in the frightened recesses of memory at the sleepy repetition of a word like “forever.”

It was humiliating.

One felt so sure in cool unbelief, leaning firmly on the massive pillars of one’s doubt, and then fe lt hot rushes of ancient faith that set knees to trembling and memory to pulling out hobgoblins that danced before one’s eyes!

Why (he laughed), even the figures of speech were, in the early dawn, a twisted fantasy of shadowy pillars and hot breaths and hobgoblins and the ghosts of a creed deader than Banquo. When once he was married to Phyllis . . .

HER ANSWER

The phantom of her laughter seemed to float reassuringly to him across the darkness, that faintly ironic laughter with which she warded off life. Life, she pretended gaily, was such a joke. It was a jest that one was wise to play on others before others got a chance to play it on oneself. A bad or unsuccessful first marriage, he had sometimes suspected, twists laughter into mockery, as it twists love into cynical acceptance of passion. But Phyllis had survived because she had continued to laugh cleanly.

Phyllis would certainly be ashamed of him if she could see him now. (The clock had drawn its hands together again at twenty minutes past four, almost like the hands of an amateur diver poised for the plunge.) She would laugh at him for lying long after four in the morning cracking his head over the ridiculous problem, “How long is forever?”

She would answer that with a smile.

“As long as we love each other,” he could almost hear her say. “That long will be our forever. Beyond that, who cares?”

WHILE LOVE ENDURES

Of course! Who cared? They’d love each other passionately for a year or so, find each other excellent comrades for half a decade, drift on the tides of their personal selfishness, down individual ways, but still good friends, tolerant and kindly, maturing and growing old among their devoted associates and the sweet amenities of life. That would go on for twenty years, thirty, forty . . .

While the humming bird beat his wings against a steel ball and wore down a chain, and made no dent, no slight impression on forever.

Suppose (oh, confound that word “suppose”), suppose that immortality had something to it. After all, all men had believed in it. All faiths guaranteed it. Much apparently sound philosophy claimed to prove it.

THE CERTAINTY OF DOUBT

Murray shook his head as if to throw off the doubt of his doubt.

“No, it’s too late for all that to be disorganising my mind and my life now. My doubts are too certain. I have no need to question them. When I die, I die dead, end my story at the finis called the grave. That has all been clear to me. Why, now, do I find myself flirting with the preposterous idea called “forever”?”

Knife-sharp, his mind, whetted to almost a clairvoyant keenness, cut and stabbed into the future. He laid the years with Phyllis end to end and eyed with alarming contempt their pitiful fewness. Then he seemed to stand looking at himself, as if he were outside of himself and could see himself, Glen Murray, held captive in that fantastic prison called “forever.”

“STILL I AM.”

“The mountains crumble; I still am. The world is dust; I still exist. The universe clatters to chaos; I live on. Uncounted, uncountable eras drift, cloudlike, across the vastness of space; I have not ceased to be.

Immortal . . . deathless . . . forever. Suppose all this were true. Suppose-a gambler’s risk-that all this were my destiny. Measuring this against the decade of my probable happiness with Phyllis . . .

“Happiness?”

SUDDEN SWEAT

In the darkness he felt sudden sweat on his forehead. He hardly knew why his hands were hot, or that he licked his lips furtively with his tongue. He was afraid, afraid as a man might be who, in the darkness, faces his coming disgrace, sees his crime, hidden until now, discovered and blazoned to the world, and watches the doors of the prison opening to swallow what remains of his life.

No. That was not what caused the sweat, the trembling he could not control. Here was no question of what remains of life, of a dozen years, or two score or a hundred. It was the horrible supposition that there might be a life eternal, a life which continued after death, a life that went on—Forever.

Suppose . . .

GAMBLER’S CHOICE

Who was the gambler now? The man who staked infinity, the endless reach of ages, forever, against the hours in Phyllis” arms, years spent in walking, talking, eating, sleeping at her side? What pitiful odds he, the gambler, was taking for his risk! If, by some terrible fact, these brief years ahead were really the time when one prepared for forever, if, while one lived here and now, one determined whether the forever should be in a prison cell, the cell of one’s endless, but solitary, confinement, where no turnkey, Death, entered to unbolt the doorand say, “The grave is your open way to freedom,” where no final clutch of agony caught the gasping windpipe and stilled the agony of arthritis-twisted limbs; or whether . . .

Ah, there was a second whether-whether forever was to be the high sheltering walls of one’s eternal garden of delight . . .

He flung the idea away as he had long since relegated to the same oblivion of fairyland the heavens and hells of whatever age or race.

CAN ALL BE WRONG?

Yet, even as he flung the idea aside, he realised that he was flinging, not his own idea, but the idea of a thousand races and uncounted years and untold generations, who clung with all their strength of mind and will to a forever that would be blissful or miserable, depending on the way in which they had spent the present now. And he could hear their voices clearly answer his contempt of immortality with a calm, “Can all mankind be wrong?”

He was one against the world, he and his generation, persuading themselves of what even they found difficult to believe, that the moment of passion was beyond price, that doubt and disbelief were the highest certainties, that the great gambler was he who grasped a certain second and let go his chance to win a priceless eternity.

TO STAKE ALL

No. That was absurd. Memory of many seconds of passion told him with nausea that they could not be priceless, as they surely had not been painless. How could doubt, the rejecter of the truth, be certainty itself?

And the gambler was the man who risked the coin in hand for the future coins he might win by staking the present. He was choosing Phyllis and tearing up his gambler’s chance that, supposing there was a forever, he should, by staking his hours and days of passion and companionship, win . . .

Almost he felt as if he had been given agambler’s hunch, the hunch to play his coin, the prospects of an immediate happiness, in order to win forever and forever. If he played his coin upon Phyllis (he drew back from the crudeness of the phrase; then plunged his mind relentlessly into it), if he played his coin upon Phyllis and lost, and there was a forever, a forever in which he would sit, imprisoned, with no releasing jailer; sick, with no merciful death; a failure, with no chance to retrieve lost fortunes—forever sick of himself, sick of his failure, tormented as failures are tormented, and knowing that not next year, nor after a million years, nor after a hundred billion, nor after the sun’s fire had cooled to a cold ash, and the last planet was sifted in fine dust vaguely through barren space, would it end for him or for his memory and his bitterness.

The hands of the clock, in a miniature yawn, were stretched wide. It was a quarter to five.

Glen Murray pushed back the covers that seemed to burn him, drive his feet into bedroom slippers, flung himself across the room, pulled out a sheet of paper, wrote briefly, sealed the envelope and jammed a stamp haphazardly on the corner.

AT DAWN

The priest in the down-town church was vesting for Mass in the shabby little sacristy, but he stopped when a welldressed man entered.

“Certainly,” he replied to a question. “Kneel down right here.”

The man talked rapidly, and with a clear knowledge of how he came and why. He ended his confession with a new sin. At least, he evidently thought it was a sin, and it was surely new to the priest.

“And I accuse myself of being a gambler who preferred what he thought was a small, sure thing to what he fancied was a magnificent, overwhelming, astounding risk.”

“That,” said the priest, puzzled, “was surely no sin.”

“It was to me,” the stranger replied.

So the priest shifted to more familiar grounds.

“Why did you come back?” he asked.

“Because,” said the man, “of forever.”

“I beg your pardon.”

The priest was now completely puzzled.

But the penitent offered no explanation. So the priest pushed on.

FOR FOREVER

“Can you break with the woman?”

The man laughed. And there was irony in his voice.

“Father, I feel sure that I am simply the first of a waiting line where she is concerned.”

Again the priest, who was a simple soul, decided it was better to let it rest.

“Do you promise,” he asked in routine fashion, “to the best of your ability, to avoid sin and live a good life?” “That,” replied the man, still talking part plain fact and part queer muddle-”that I can and do promise forever and for forever.”

********

Friend of Mine

ROBERT NASH, S.J

INDEX

All His life long Jesus Christ had been trying to make men know Him. Shortly before the end He rode in triumph into Jerusalem. The streets and the archways re-echoed with cheering, for the people had formed themselves into a procession, and were shouting themselves hoarse. “Hosanna! Hosanna to the Son of David! Blessed is He that cometh in the name of the Lord.” They thronged close about the Prophet and waved palm branches and spread their garments on the ground for Him to walk on. Today His enemies are filled with impotent rage. They are out of the picture; the whole world is gone after Him.

JESUS UNKNOWN

So slow had the Master been about making a beginning of the foundation of His Kingdom that even His disciples had chafed at the delay. But this day marks a welcome change. Today the crowds are acclaiming Him King and He does not prevent them. On the contrary, He declares that if they were silent, the very stones of the street would cry cut. Today, then, He sets Himself at the head of His people to lead them to victory. Hated Rome shall lie in the dust before His triumphant advance, and once more Jerusalem will be able to lift her head high and take pride of place before the nations of the world as capital of Christ’s Kingdom. Wherefore, Hosanna to the Son of David! Blessed is He that cometh in the name of the Lord!

Thus pleasingly did they muse as they walked along. But presently the picture was rudely jolted out of focus. A short distance outside the city Christ halts, and they turn around to look in His direction. They are suddenly surprised, suddenly apprehensive. For they see that while every face about Him is radiant with happiness, tears dim the eyes of Jesus. Hope surges high in every other breast, but the Heart of Christ is weighed down with sorrow. For, though this morning they are all ac-claiming Him their King, He knows that in a few days they will yell like wild beasts for His blood. Today it is “Hosanna!,” on Friday it will be “Crucify Him.” In spite of all their enthusiasm they do not know Him, these thoughtless multitudes around Him. And Jesus wept on Palm Sunday, His day of triumph, because Jerusalem “did not know the day of her visitation.”

But it was not only the rabble who failed to know Christ. On the following Thursday night He has His own twelve all to Himself, at the Last Supper. Though it is a festive gathering, the same sad complaint forces itself to His lips. These twelve are His closest friends; for three years they have been near Him; side by side they have worked and prayed and slept and eaten and drank and spoken intimately together, and now, after it all, even they do not know Him. Their ideas about Him and His Kingdom and His mission are all distorted. He is sorely disappointed that they are so slow of heart. “So long a time have I been with you, and you have not known Me!” His own twelve! And lifting up His eyes to the Father, He prays for them: “ . . . that they may know Thee, the one true God, and Jesus Christ Whom Thou hast sent.”

* * *

A man was kneeling in prayer in a dark cave. In his countenance there shone a brilliant light; it was the reflection of the burning love for Christ that was glowing in that man’s heart. Through a life of prayer and sacrifice this man had come to know Christ intimately, and the knowledgehad transformed him. He had turned his back on a soldier’s career because Christ had worked and died for souls, and he wanted to do the same. Christ was poor; this man had given away his last coin and was now living on alms. Christ prayed and fasted; since he came here to this cave he, too, has fasted and prayed. But with all this his love is not yet satisfied. A great prayer forms itself in the heart of that great man, and springs to his lips: “Lord, that I may know Thee more clearly still, in order that I may love Thee more dearly and follow Thee more nearly.”

MANRESA

And Ignatius Loyola came out of Manresa to tell the world what he had found in that cave. There he had come to know Christ, and so stunned was he at the discovery that he could know no rest. That knowledge brought him love for Christ, and the fire of personal love for Jesus of Nazareth drove him out into the world obsessed with a craving to share his secret with others. The knowledge and love of Jesus Christ had so revolutionised his whole outlook, he now saw so clearly the foolhardiness of all else, that the indifference of the world to Christ and the utter blindness to His love made him yearn to spend himself unreservedly on the task of teaching to men this Christ Whom he had found. So he gathered a band of followers around him into whom he fused his own passionate devotion to Christ and His cause, and then he scattered them to the four corners of the earth, giving them one only command: “Go and set the whole world on fire with the love of Jesus Christ.”

That is what happened to Ignatius Loyola when once he came to know Christ. Our object in these pages is to look upon one trait of the infinitely beautiful character of that same Christ. Even this may help to a deeper knowledge of Him, and it is not possible to know Him and withhold one’s love and one’s eagerness to imitate Him.

There is a whole world of difference between knowing Christ and knowing about Christ. If a man is interested, let us say, in some branch of science, he may know much about an eminent scientist who lives at the antipodes. He knows all the facts of the man’s life-where he was born, what studies he has pursued, the countries he has visited, the books he has written, the chain of circumstances that led him to settle down in a distant country. But the man himself he does not know until he meets him face to face.

Now it is the intensest yearning of Jesus to make men know Him in this intimate way. He is ever trying to make contact with them, and to let them understand that when He tells them His Sacred Heart is on fire with love for them He is not using the language of metaphor, but is stating the simple truth.

THE KEY TO CHRIST

Love is, perhaps, the trait of Our Lord’s character that first impresses itself upon our minds as soon as we begin to know Him. This is to be expected, for proofs of that love crowd into every page, one might almost say into every line, of the Gospel story. There He holds up for us to look at, a Heart throbbing with a love which is the very embodiment of sincerity. So astonishingly genuine is His love; so solid and unshaken and unchanged does it stand in face of the assaults of treachery and falsehood; so completely does it efface the memory of the cowardice, the pettiness, the selfishness, the crimes even, of the sinner who falls down on his knees and asks to be forgiven; so exultant is it when men at last begin to get a small glimpse of its reality, and so keenly disappointed when they will not believe in it; so eager is it to make every allowance and to discover every excuse: in a word, so immeasurably beyond the ambit of our small minds to fathom, or our halting speech to utter, is this wonderful thing. the love of Christ for men, that the saints—they who best “learned Christ”-have made language yield up all her treasures of eloquence in the effort to tell us about it. And with what result? Why, only to lay down their pens and confess that they despair of the task. Only to proclaim that that love is a luminary so bright that it stands out apart, quite on its own, dwarfing all human love, or, rather, taking into itself everything there is in human love of beauty and of truth, and excluding every taint of the selfishness by which human love is often marred. The fact is that there is no finding of words adequately to expose the treasures of love for men that are contained in Christ’s Sacred Heart. Prayer opens wide the door of that treasure-house; the earnest seeker knocks and is given admission; he looks around in astonishment, and gradually two truths break in on his mind.

The first of these is that God is love. St. John learned that when he leaned close to Christ’s Heart at the Last Supper. When, later, he wanted to sum up all God’s attributes-His eternity, His justice, His awful sanctity, His infinite perfection-he chose love as being the best epitome of them all. “God is love,” and the soul of prayer makes that its first discovery. But even more astonishing still is the second truth. All this wealth of love of God is waiting to be poured out on each individual who finds his way to this treasurehouse. “Yea, I have loved thee with an everlasting love.” “He loved me,” writes St. Paul, “and He delivered Himself up for me.”

FORGIVENESS

Certain it is that this fire of Our Lord’s love shines out most brilliantly when it gathers into itself the sorrowful heart of the prodigal, and makes him realise that its flames have completely burned up every trace and every memory of his sin. The soul then understands that Our Lord fulfils, as no one ever did, as no one ever shall, that fine definition of a friend-a man who knows everything about me, and loves me just the same. The welcome back springs spontaneously from the Sacred Heart. There is no censure, no complaint, no aloofness, no formality. It is no time for formality when the welcoming Christ is overflowing with joy that His child is be-ginning at last to understand the utter truth of His love. And it is just at this moment, too, when the sinner stands be-fore this forgiving Christ, stands and looks at his own selfishness and his meanness, that he best appreciates Our Lord’s generosity in forgetting all about it. Of course, he is forgiven; he knows quite well he is. But he has deliberately hurt a Friend, and the remembrance of his ingratitude and the pain he has caused burns into his brain and brings to his eyes tears of sweet repentance. In the light of his sin he understands better than ever before how much Christ loves him. The very sincerity of the welcome back serves only to bring, hot from the heart, acts of sorrow and protestations that he is fixed in his determination to efface the past by a life of utter loyalty to that Friend in future. This is how this extraordinary Lover of men takes the sinner’s load of crimes from his shoulders, and from it welds, all the stronger and closer, the golden chain binding the sinner’s heart to the Sacred Heart. Christ will make of even his very sins, stepping-stones to higher things.

Saint Peter learned this, and the story of his schooling is a drama in three acts.

THREE CHAPTERS

Peter and the others are seated with the Master it the Last Supper. Our Lord is sad tonight, and, to these friends of His, “His own,” He reveals part of the cause of His sadness. For the last time, He knows it, He is in the midst of His own whom He loves so well. He is longing to make them understand Him, to give them at least some insight into the affection He has for them. Above all, He wants them to be loyal to Him. He wants to be able to lean on them for support during this terrifying Passion that is about to break in on Him to-night. But they are going to fail Him, and He knows it. He looks around the table sadly, looks from Peter to John, from John to Andrew, and so round about the entire group. Quite quietly, quite deliberately, He stretches out both hands in a comprehensive gesture, and, including the whole twelve, He tells them: “All you shall be scandalised in Me this night. One of you will even betray Me. . . . The hand of the traitor is with Me on the table.”

For a moment they are struck dumb with horror and surprise. Scandalised in Him! Ashamed of Him! Traitors! Never would that be said of them, His very own, chosen out of the whole world. The Master must surely be mistaken. They can trust them-selves that much at least, that they know they love Him and are ready to follow Him even to suffering and to death. Especially is Peter’s generous heart chilled at the suggestion. “Lord,” he says, when at length he finds his speech, though still his voice is hoarse under the strong emotion, “Lord, I will never be scandalised in Thee. The other eleven? Well, they, perhaps. But Peter? Lord, depend on Peter! Even though all should be scandalised, yet not I.” He means it, indeed, but the Lord knew Peter. “Peter,” He tells him, “the cock will not crow till thou deny Me three times.” This is piling agony upon agony and Peter cannot believe. It is not possible. And he spoke the more vehemently: “Lord, I am ready to go with Thee to prison and to death. Even though I should die together with Thee, I will never deny Thee.” And in like manner spoke all His disciples.

DANGER!

A few hours elapse and the scene changes to the barrack-yard outside the palace of Caiphas. Our Lord has been arrested down in Gethsemane and dragged through the street, and now He is inside, standing His trial before Annas. The night is cold, and out here in the yard the soldiers gather round the fire to discuss the latest happenings. They have secured this Man Christ at last. For a long time He has been a source of trouble to the authorities, but to-night will seal His fate. What chance has He between the cunning Annas and the unscrupulous Caiphas? Indeed, truth to tell, on other occasions He had made away and nobody seemed able to tell how. But tonight they have made sure of His capture. Where so many others had failed they have succeeded, and they hope their masters will not forget that for them. Al-though, when all was said and done, the night’s work had been a simple enough task. There had been practically no resistance, for the Man’s friends had scampered away at the first sign of danger. One of them, indeed, had made some show of defence. In a sudden flare of zeal and anger he had drawn a sword, but presently the flare had died down again, and he, too, had deserted his Master and had run off with the others.

In this strain the conversation continues -the men sitting there with their hands spread out towards the grateful blaze of the fire, and regaling themselves at intervals with a draught from the bottles dangling from their belts. And, of all the people in the world, seated there, right in the midst of these soldiers, is Simon Peter-his face white with fear, his heart in his breast frozen with terror lest they notice him. What they are saying is true indeed. He it was who had drawn that sword and afterwards had run away when he saw the Master a Prisoner. He had retraced his steps, however, and, sorrowful and ashamed of his cowardice, he had succeeded in gaining admission to this courtyard, whence he might follow Jesus afar off and see the end. But now misery is eating into his very soul. What a fool he has been! Better never to have come back! Why did he not remain in safety with the others! Instead, in his impetuous way, he has rushed into the jaws of danger. He has had the foolhardiness to come into this place where he can do nothing at all to help the Master, and where every moment he is incurring the risk of being himself suspected and imprisoned. He must watch his chance and make good his escape before it is too late.

THE LINK BROKEN

His thoughts are rudely interrupted. Clear and loud above the coarse mutterings of the men rings out the shrill note of a girl’s voice. “Why,” she cries, “here is the very man you are talking about. Here is the friend of your Christ who drew his sword down in the garden.” And she points an accusing finger in the direction of the apostle. For one agonising moment fear for himself and love for his Master have a fierce struggle in Peter’s heart. He stands still, with head bent, undecided, quite taken by surprise. But already they are gathering around him and scrutinising his features more closely in the glare of the firelight. He must save himself at all costs. “It’s a lie,” he mutters. “I do not know Whom you are talking about! I never met the Man in my life.”

But they are not to be put off so easily. “A lie!” they repeat mockingly. “No, friend of Christ, if there is a lie it is on your side. Why, even your very accent betrays you that you are a Galilean. And did we not see you in the garden with Him?” Peter dare not gainsay these arguments, and so he has recourse to cursing and swearing. Three several times he declares he knows nothing of this Christ of theirs, and then, cloaking his fear under show of indignation, he rushes from the fireplace and his accusers, determined to get away at once before there is any more trouble. Hisses of contempt follow him, and the men hurl after him their threats and their scoffs. And Peter, still cursing and swearing that he knows not the Man, hurries from them in feigned rage, and makes straight for the gate of the courtyard.

“THE LORD TURNING.”

He has about two-thirds of the way covered between the fire and the gate when all at once he stops dead and stands staring blankly before him like a man changed into a block of marble. What has happened to mesmerise him like this? At the farther end of the yard there is a balcony leading from the house of Annas to the house of Caiphas, and, just at that very moment, Our Lord is being led across. For a few seconds only, their eyes met-the eyes of Jesus and the eyes of Peter. “And the Lord, turning, locked at Peter.” There is a whole world of pathos in the evangelist’s simple words. That look of Christ seemed to choke Peter’s heart with sorrow. Light shone down from those eyes of Christ and penetrated into the deep places of Peter’s soul. It was like the flash of lightning that dazzles one in the midst of a black night.

In an instant the flash was over, but it had lasted long enough to show the whole horrible truth to Peter. He had betrayed his Friend! He, Peter, who had been so loud in his protestations of loyalty only a few hours ago! Peter, who had left all things to follow Christ! Peter, for whom Our Lord had prayed especially that his faith might not fail! Peter, who was to con-firm his brethren, to be their prop and their model! Peter, to whom had been made that promise that he should be lifted up to the high eminence of head of Christ’s Church! Peter had betrayed Christ! All Christ’s lovable ways stand out in his memory more lovable than ever now in the light of Peter’s fall-His patience, His thoughtfulness, His unfailing courtesy, His unselfishness. And Peter had betrayed Him! Not once either, but many times! And not by a simple denial, but with cursing and swearing that he never knew Him! And till because of the accusation of a whimpering servant-girl! The remorse of it! Such a Friend betrayed! And by such an apostle! And for such a reason! Echoes start suddenly in the mars tortured brain. “Even though all should deny Thee. “I am ready to go with Thee to prison and to death. “I will never be scandalised . . .”And the Lord turning, looked at Peter. And Peter remembered the word which the Lord had spoken: “Before the cock crow, thou wilt deny Me three times.” And going out he wept bitterly.”

The clouds of the Passion have rolled away. It is early morning. Peter and the others have been out in their little smack all night fishing the waters of the lake. It has been a wearisome night of labour, casting their nets and hauling them up again, and they are very tired.

ABSOLUTION

As they draw near, in the first grey streaks of dawn, the figure of a Man is just discernible standing on the seashore. They take no notice of Him at first, pre-occupied as they are, tugging at the oars, and eager to reach home and secure their much-needed food and rest. But that Figure on the shore has attracted the attention of John. He peers intently out over the side of the boat, and then, reassured, he bends down and whispers into Peter’s ear. “That disciple, therefore, whom Jesus loved, said to Peter: “It is the Lord.”” Peter’s heart gives a bound of joy. Nets, boat, tackle, the labours of the night, his weariness and hunger- straightaway all these fall from his mind. One thought only obsesses him-Jesus is there, standing on the shore, and Peter must get to Him. The boat is too slow. Indeed, they have not far to go, but Peter’s impetuous love cannot be held in check. “Peter, therefore, when he heard that it was the Lord, girt his coat about him and cast himself into the sea” to come to Jesus.

Then follows a scene so lovely that any words used to reproduce it must seem almost a desecration. The rays of the morning sun just beginning to peep out of the east; the majestic Figure of the Christ, standing there on the white sand at the edge of the water; the little waves stealing in and breaking only a small distance away from His sandalled feet; and, on his knees before Him, Peter, his clothes dripping with the water of the lake, slipping his great rough seaman’s hands into the white hands of Christ, and stammering out his profession of love with all the simplicity of a little child. There is no embarrassment in Peter. He knows Jesus too well. Of course, everything is all right; the old loving relations are fully restored. Not only does Our Lord forgive, but Peter is quite sure that He will receive him in such a way that nobody looking on would suspect that He even knew about that terrible triple denial on Thursday night.

“THOU KNOWEST ALL.”

But himself? Ah, he had inflicted a smarting wound on the Heart of a Friend

Who never had an equal. And a great sorrow and a great love and a big resolve to undo the past surge up in Peter’s heart as he kneels here and grasps firmly the hands of the Master. And, once again, “the Lord turning, looks at Peter.” “Simon, son of John, lovest thou Me?” Peter looks up, and this time he gazes steadily into the eyes of Christ. “Yes, Lord, I do love Thee, indeed.” A second time the same question: “Simon, son of John, lovest thou Me?” And a second time the same avowal. “Love Thee, Lord? Why, of course I love Thee.” Still a third time: “Simon, son of John, lovest thou Me?” And Peter is grieved. Is it possible that the Master doubts his love, seeing that He questions him thus three several times? More vehemently he declares it now. “Lord, dost Thou wish me to reassure Thee of my love? Lord, Thou knowest all things. Thou knowest that I love Thee.” A triple declaration of love to blot out for ever his triple denial, and the repentant Peter is lifted from his feet and raised to the highest pinnacle of greatness and honour that the loving Christ can find. “Feed My lambs; feed My sheep.” The first Vicar of Christ on earth is Peter, who denied Him, but repented of his sin. Such is the love of Christ.

Peter never knew Our Lord so well as when he had caused Him pain. He knew Christ best in the infinitely tactful, infinitely gentle, infinitely forgiving, infinitely loving welcome back given him that morning on the seashore. He had found Jesus Christ to be a friend-a Man Who knew everything about him and loved him just the same. He looked up into the eyes of Christ, and it was good to know that he was trusted still. And the Face of Christ is radiant, for He has found a man who is beginning to understand the sincerity of His love. The light in Christ’s Face blots out for Peter the brilliance of the morning sun, and he looks up wistfully and reads there the story of a love so great that words are only poor, feeble instruments to express it, a friendship so utterly genuine that no treachery or falsehood can alter it.

A FESTERING SORE

Among the twelve at the supper-table that night, a man was sitting in whose heart a secret was festering like a horrible sore. Judas Iscariot was a sensible, hard-headed man of the world who had found Christ and His ideals to be a disappointment. Everything had looked so promising two years ago. Christ’s name was on everybody’s lips then, and the crowds followed Him everywhere. Judas, too, had begun to take an interest in the Man. People were saying that He had come to found a kingdom, to restore the splendour of the ancient Jews. There was no denying that the Man had a wonderful power -there was power in His words to draw the multitudes; in His touch there was power, for with his own eyes Judas had seen lepers cleansed by that touch, sight restored, even the dead raised to life. Then He had the majestic bearing befitting a King. Perhaps there was truth in the reports that were current about Him, and, if so, Judas would want to be on the Man’s side, for he loved power dearly,and he worshipped money for the power it put into men’s hands.

So Judas had become more and more interested in this Man, Jesus of Nazareth, and more favourably disposed to listen to His teaching. Accordingly, he had been vastly pleased that morning two years ago when Jesus had singled him out of the multitude to be His special disciple. The scene was still fresh in his memory. Jesus had spent a day by the shore of Lake Genesareth, and from every side the crowds had gathered and thronged about Him. They brought to Him all that were sick, those possessed by devils, lunatics, palsied. And He, laying His hands upon them, cured them all. “Power went out from Him,” the evangelist was to write later-that power coveted by Judas, who was scanning every movement of Christ. That night Jesus went up the mountainside alone to pray-it was often His custom at the end of a day-and next morning the multitudes gathered again. And Christ, standing there before them on the brow of the hill, looked out over them, indicating clearly that He had some special concern this morning. Twelve men are called aside from the crowd; one by one, in His quiet, deliberate way, He selects them Himself, mentioning each one by name and assigning to each his place near Him. Henceforth, these areto be “His own.” Presently they sit down, Jesus and the twelve, and with the multitude facing Him and His twelve, Jesus opens His mouth and begins to teach. And amongst the twelve names called that day was that of Judas Iscariot.

For a while he had sat th ere by the Master’s side, proud that he had been chosen so, and fully conscious that the eyes of many were fixed upon him with a holy envy. But all at once his complacency receives a shock. Jesus is speaking to the crowds, and what is this Judas hears? “Blessed are the poor in spirit. . . . Woe to you that are rich!” The words jar harshly on the ears of Judas. He had dreamed of a wealthy kingdom in which he would wield power, but here is the Founder of the Kingdom advocating poverty and denouncing riches as a snare and a danger-trap. Already his fears are awakened that there is something wrong.

DISILLUSIONED!

Throughout the two years all Christ’s teaching has been consistent with this sermon on the Mount. Consistently He has told His followers to expect and to love poverty and suffering; to despise what the world values most highly, and to look for their reward, not in this world, which is only a passing show, but to “lay up treasure in heaven where neither rust nor moth can consume nor thieves break through and steal.” Gradually it becomes more and more clear to Judas that he has made a mistake. And lately there has been even a more serious development, for Christ has lashed with merciless rigour the Pharisees and the Scribes-the very men who hold the power! He has pursued them with relentless logic, and has unmasked their hypocrisy before all the people. Of course, they are enraged, and everybody knows they are only seeking an excuse to put Him to death. Yes, Judas made the mistake of his life when he took up with this Man. Jesus of Nazareth. But is the mistake irretrievable? He is indeed on the losing side for the moment, but a skilful and swift move can save him still-perhaps.

Dare he take that move? For at first he is horrified by the mere suggestion, and he rejects it. But, for all that, it comes back again another day, and this time it seems not quite so horrible after all. Judas looks at the idea, and, in a hazy kind of way, begins remotely to think out ways and means. Perhaps the thing is just feasible. Anyhow, the facts are that Judas wants money very badly; that for two whole years he has followed about after Jesus, Who is now clearly proved a visionary, and for his pains he has been told to love poverty and insult! He has had enough of such unsavoury doctrine. On the other hand, there are the Chief Priests, the Pharisees and the Scribes, the men with money, influence, and power. And these are Christ’s implacable enemies. No doubt about it, if they could discover a man willing to hand over this Jesus to them, they would pay him handsomely. Was it not a chance for Judas, who knew every move of the Master? An opportunity of recompensing himself for the disappointments and losses of the past two years?

PLAYING WITH FIRE

But conscience? Well, what of conscience? Judas has sense enough to know that there are times when a man has to brush aside these petty conscientious scruples. Besides, he remembers that before this attempts had been made to effect the capture, but Jesus had passed through His enemies in some unaccountable fashion. It is quite possible that the same is going to happen this time, too, but not until Judas has had his money! Anyhow, there can be no great harm in approaching the Chief Priests and finding out what their offer would be. Not that he is going to clinch a bargain with them! He will just throw out a leading question to give them a hint of what is passing in his mind, and see how far they would be willing to go.

That decision once taken, the remaining chapters in Judas” story follow in rapid succession. That night, under cover of darkness, the wretched man slips down the street and knocks at the door of the Chief Priest’s house. It is opened, and Judas is admitted to the chamber where Annas and Caiphas and the other great men are holding council. It is the interminable question-how are they going to silence for ever this fearless Christ, Who is destroying their prestige with the people? They are frankly surprised to see Judas, a known disciple of the Man they hate. What can Judas want with them, and at this hour? He has no time for apologies or introductions, for he has been driven in here by a restless hankering for something, anything almost, other than Christ. Christ is not enough for Judas; Christ is a disappointment to Judas; what can Judas get instead of Christ? That is his quest tonight. “What will you give me,” he blurts out, “and I will betray Him?”

They are taken aback. This was more than they had hope d for in their wildest dreams. Is there any mistaking Judas” meaning? They observe him shrewdly, and the lips twitching with nervous excitement and the eyes glowing with greed reassure them. In such a place and at such a time. “Him” can only mean Jesus, but that hallowed name is stifled in the throat of the traitor apostle.

TREACHERY

Sure of their ground now, and recovered somewhat from the first shock of surprise, it is only with an effort that they succeed in controlling their delight. Why, if Judas can guarantee his side of the bargain, they are willing to go to almost any price. But they are not going to say so all at once, for they are careful Jews, and if they can have the capture effected at a low figure, why pay more than they need? What would Judas say to thirty pieces of silver? That was quite a fair sum. He would recall that it was the price laid down in their book of Exodus as the price to be paid to a master if his slave was injured. And Judas, dazzled by the glitter of the silver, sweeps the coins into his wallet and signs the promise that he will hand Christ over to them. “And from that time he sought opportunity to betray Him in the absence of the multitude.”

That is the horrible secret that is raging in the miserable man’s breast as he sit s tonight at table with Jesus and the other eleven. Ever since he struck that fatal bargain he has been ill at ease in this company. And now, as Jesus, in His quiet, deliberate way, begins to speak to them, His words strike the ears of Judas like a thunderbolt. “All of you will be scandal- ised in Me this night. . . . The hand of him that will betray Me is with Me on the table. . . . The Son of Man indeed goeth . . . , but woe to that man by whom the Son of Man will be betrayed. It were better for him if thatman had not been born.”

“IS IT I, LORD?”

It is a warning for Judas from the merciful Christ. But by this time sin has eaten its way deep into the soul of the wretched man, and he refuses to yield. Christ he has tried in the balance and found wanting. He prefers his bag of silver and the good graces of the men with power. Very soon he will be finished for ever with this company of dreamers, but even with them he must be tactful and diplomatic to the end. He will face Christ and brazen out His ominous warning. What does he care? And so, when deep concern lines the faces of these true lovers of Christ, the traitor, too, feigns alarm. Christ, it seems, knows the secret of Judas” heart. What of that, then? And, with an insolence that is incredible, he looks up into the eyes of the Master. “A traitor, Lord? It is not I, is it?” And he points his index finger towards his breast. A mighty grace has been offered and rejected, and the Heart of Christ is crushed with sorrow and pain. He will not force this wayward man; He never does. Judas will have his way. Christ, having tried in vain to save Judas from his sin, makes sure now to shield at least his reputation with the others. “Judas, what thou dost, do quickly.” The eleven were accustomed to orders like this being given to Judas, for he carried the purse and was the trusted apostle. Frequently the Master would have some special commission for Judas to execute. Accordingly, they thought no more about him when he left the supper room and went out into the darkness, bent, they believed, on some errand of mercy undertaken at the bidding of Jesus. The traitor’s good name with the others is still intact. That much at least Christ’s love has made sure, even if He has failed to save him from his sin.

IT WAS NIGHT

“Judas, therefore . . . went out. And it was night.” Darkness fell down upon the soul of the apostle, and he hastened recklessly to destruction. We find him next with a cohort of soldiers drawing near the garden of Gethsemane. With nervous tread he walks along, a little ahead of the rest. There is an undefined fear clutching at his heart-the warning note of conscience-which all his self-assurances and specious reasonings have not succeeded in reducing to silence. How can he draw back now, even if he wanted to? Poor Judas! But even yet, even now, on the very edge of the precipice, will that Christ he has rejected make a final effort to arouse his sorrow and win back his love once more? Christ has been kneeling in prayer under the olive trees, but on the approach of the soldiers and their leader He rises from His knees and goes forward to meet them. By now the traitor has become quite callous. Conscience is a delicate instrument, easily blunted. Let the Christ save Himself if He will and as best He may. Judas has made his bargain and he is going to stand by it. “Judas, therefore, gave them a sign, saying: “Whomsoever I shall kiss, the same is He. Hold Him fast. Lead Him away carefully: “And he brushes aside the branches of the trees with both hands and emerges into the moonlight. Yes, there is the Man standing erect before him, the Man Who loved Judas, and loves Judas still, but to Judas the Man is a disappointment. “And he kissed Him.” Is there any hope left for Judas? For, if there is still even a shadow of a chance of saving him, this loving Christ will seize upon it. Will not Judas pause and think?

From his place there in the embrace of Judas Jesus looks steadily into the traitor’s eyes. Such a look does He give him as will afterwards break the heart of Peter. Peter’s sin was a sin of weakness. Judas was more calculating. He had sat down and reckoned up the profits and losses, and had calmly and deliberately decided that the contract was worth while. Once more Christ will plead and warn, but He will not compel. Love must be won, not forced. “Friend, whereunto art thou come? Judas, dost thou betray the Son of Man with a kiss?” “And he kissed Him.” Again Jesus has verified in Himself that definition of a Friend-a Man Who knows all about another and loves him just the same. As He looks straight into the traitor’s heart, every single incident, from the first dallying with the temptation to this terrifying consummation, is spread out before His eyes like the pages of an open book. And, even in the face of all this treachery and ingratitude. Christ loves Judas still; Christ pleads with Judas to think and repent even still, but Judas will not be won. “And he kissed Him.”

SWEET SIN

There is a sweetness about sin, as there is a sweetness about poison. That sweetness Judas had tasted. He had handled his money. He had ingratiated himself, parasite-like, into the favour of the men with power and influence. No doubt about it, they would remember it for him that they owed Christ’s arrest to his co-operation and plans. He had felt the importance of his position at the head of a troop of soldiers who awaited his orders. That was all, that much made up the sweetness of sin for Judas Iscariot. What a miserable pittance for which to betray Christ! The bewitching of trifles! But the worst was not yet. Who tastes the sweetness of poison must surely pay a bitter penalty, and who takes sin into his heart holds an asp close to his breast. This, too, Judas discovered. No sooner is his crime completed and he has stowed the unresisting Christ into the hands of His enemies, than Judas is torn with remorse. Back he rushes to the Chief Priests with the coins in his hands. “I have sinned,” he cries, in a voice hoarse with despair. “I have sinned in betraying innocent blood!” They smile upon him condescendingly. He has done his work very well. The bargain had been made and kept. They had paid the price settled upon, and Judas had secured their Victim. Indeed, he has been a useful tool in their hands, but now he is of use no longer. “Innocent blood! Why, Judas, that is your own affair. Look you to it then.” Why did he not foresee all this misery? Why did he not heed Christ’s warnings, repeated so lovingly and so insistently? He had dreamed of wealth, but now he has flung away even the thirty pieces of silver, for they were burning like coals of fire in his hands. He had fondly imagined that the betrayal would open the way to power, but these great men have just turned sneeringly from him. He is stunned at last into realising that sin is a huge deception. A hatred seizes upon him, hatred for all men and hatred for himself. He must get away, anywhere, provided he be left alone. And as he rushes out, he knows not where and cares not, a vision rises up once more before his tortured brain-the Face of Jesus of Nazareth: Jesus, Who had said He was ready to forgive the repentant sinner not once merely, not seven times merely, but till seventy times seven times. Jesus, Who had poured words of merciful forgiveness into the ear of Mary Magdalene, and had made her the inseparable companion of His Immaculate Mother. Jesus, Who had lifted up the woman taken in adultery and saved her from her enemies. Jesus, Who had sat with publicans and sinners, Who had been accused of being their Friend, and had admitted the truth of the accusation. Jesus, Who had looked so compassionately at Judas himself tonight and had spoken His warnings with so much gentleness and tact-the Face of that Jesus haunts his brain now, but still Judas resists. “My sin is greater than that I should hope for pardon.”

DESPAIR

Blindly he hastens away to the lonely valley of Hinnon, trying to shut out the vision of that merciful Christ from his mind. The blackness of despair envelops him and blocks out every ray of hope. To the end Christ is a disappointment to Judas. To the end he refuses to believe in Christ’s mercy. To the end he cannot be convinced that Christ could know everything about him and love him just the same. “My sin is greater than that I should hope for pardon. My case is exceptional!” Despair ties the hands of an omnipotent Lover. With his worldly ambitions dashed to the ground, and with a sin which he persuades himself is too great to be pardoned, what is there left to live for? Better finish once and for all with this life of disappointments! Jesus will hang on the cross tomorrow and pray for His murderers. Judas will hang from the tree tonight and refuse to believe in His love and His readiness to forgive.

So ended the story of Judas Iscariot. Mistakes crowd into every chapter, but the fatal mistake, the mistake that was quite irremediable, was not Judas” love of money or even the horrible act of betrayal. The saddest mistake of all was Judas” refusal to believe that Christ could be such a Friend, that He could still love Judas, and still want Judas, in spite of all. One remedy could have saved Judas, as it saved Peter; one only remedy there was, but it was an infallible one. A humble confession of his sin and a cry for mercy would instantly have restored all the old loving relations between Christ and the traitor. But that cry and that confession never rose from the lips of Judas. He refused to believe that Christ could be such a Friend. To Judas, Christ was a disappointment, and, to the infinitely forgiving, infinitely loving Jesus of Nazareth, Judas Iscariot was a disappointment, too.

—There’s a wideness in God’s mercy

Like the wideness of the sea;

There’s a kindness in His justice

Which is more than clemency.

There is no place where earth’s sorrows Are more felt than up in Heaven: There’s no place where earth’s failings Have such kind judgment given.

For the love of God is broader Than the measures of man’s mind, And the Heart of the Eternal Is most wonderfully kind.

But we make His love too narrow By false limits of our own,

And we magnify His strictness With a zeal He will not own.

If our love were but more simple, We should take Him at His word; And our lives would be all sunshine In the sweetness of Our Lord. -Father Faber.

Nihil Obstat:

F. Moynihan,

Censor Theol. Deputatus.

Imprimatur:

@ D. Mannix,

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis.

********

Friends of The Cross

ST. LOUIS MARIE DE MONTFORT

INDEX

PREFACE

St. Louis MarySt. Louis Mary1716), author of this “Letter,” is widely known through his treatise on “The True Devotion to the Blessed Virgin Mary” and its abridgment “The Secret of Mary.” Well has he merited the title of “Apostle of Mary” and deservedly he is called “Tutor of the Legion of Mary.” Addressing the many pilgrims at the canonization of St. De Montfort, July 1947, the Holy Father calls him “the guide who leads you to Mary and from Mary to Jesus.” Speaking of St. Louis” “Prayer for Missionaries,” Father Faber says:

“Since the Apostolical Epistles, it would be hard to find words that burn so marvelously.” He has founded two religious congregations: the priests and the brothers of the Company of Mary (Montfort Fathers) and the Daughters of Wisdom. To his sons and daughters he has left a rich heritage of doctrinal writings.

In this “Letter” St. Louis manifests his passionate love for the Cross and pours forth the noble sentiments of his ardent soul. Like St. Paul, he is “determined to know nothing. . . . except Jesus Christ, and Him crucified” (1 Cor. 2–2); “indeed a stumbling block to the Jews and foolishness to the Gentiles, but to those who are called. . the Wisdom of God” (1 Cor 1–23, 24).

While giving missions in the city of Nantes in 1708, this eloquent preacher of the Cross and devout slave of Jesus in Mary formed, from the most fervent souls among his audiences, an association of “The Friends of the Cross.” This fraternity or association was established .in the localities evangelized by the holy Missionary to fight against the many disorders and vices of the times and to make reparation for the outrages perpetrated against the Sacred Heart of Jesus. Each time he visited these places he exhorted the members to persevere in their first fervor. Alas! Suddenly he was forbidden to preach to them. Through intrigues, machinations and calumny his arch enemies, the Jansenists, prevailed to have their redoubtable adversary silenced.

During the summer of 1714 Father De Montfort stopped at Rennes. Here, too, with diabolical hate and fury, the Jansenists succeeded in having the saintly Missionary silenced. Welcoming this added humiliation-for his heaviest cross was to be without a cross-he took refuge at his alma mater, the Jesuit College at Rennes, where he was warmly received. Here he buried himself in an eight day retreat meditating on the mystery of Calvary. From an incessant heart-to-heart talk with the Man of Sorrows and His Blessed Mother he received a new light and a more ardent love for the Crucified Savior.

On the last day of the retreat St. Louis, always eager to lead the faithful souls on the Royal Road of the Cross, desired to communicate to his fervent followers the fruits of his sublime meditation and poured forth the burning sentiments of his apostolic soul in the following “Letter.”

In this epistle he gives us a holy doctrine which he preached and lived all his life thus imitating his Divine Master, Jesus Christ. It is believed that as a seminarian he wrote those two wonderful poems: “The Strength of Patience” (39 stanzas) and the “Triumph of the Cross” (31 stanzas) in which we find the elements contained in this “Letter.” As a young priest he wrote his first book, “Love of Eternal Wisdom,” and in its beautiful fourteenth chapter, “The Triumph of Eternal Wisdomin the Cross and by the Cross,” is demonstrated the author’s great love for the Folly of the Cross. In his allocution on St. De Montfort, quoted above, the Holy Father said: “Being crucified himself he has a perfect right to speak with authority on Christ Crucified. . . . He gives a sketch of his own life when drawing up a plan of life in his “Letter to the Friends of the Cross”” (Cf. “Letter,” No. 4, 2).

When this “Letter” appeared St. Louis had already written the “Secret of Mary” and most probably had fi nished its lucid development “True Devotion to the Blessed Virgin Mary” to which this “Letter” is very closely related and is, as it were, the development and completion of the saintly author’s “plan of forming a true client of Mary and a true disciple ofJesus Christ” (True Devotion No. 111).

Although written more than two centuries ago to fight against the evils and vices of those days this “Letter” retains all its usefulness and freshness. It wages a holy war on the evils, vices, pagan materialism and secularism of the present day. St. Louis gives us a panacea for all these ills: Christian mortification, prayer and a total consecration of ourselves to the Immaculate Heart of Mary. In a strong staccato tone he tells us “to suffer, to weep, to fast, to pray, to hide ourselves, to humiliate ourselves, to impoverish ourselves, to mortify ourselves. He who has not the spirit of Christ, which is the spirit of the Cross, does not belong to Him, but they who belong to Him have crucified their flesh and their concupiscenccs.”

Is this not the message Our Lady of Fatima gave to the world- penance, mortification, sacrifice, prayer and consecration to her Immaculate Heart-in 1917. Is it not Our Blessed Mother who guided and inspired her faithful Apostle to write it!

Thus imbued with a burning love for Christ Crucified, a love born of humiliation, suffering, persecution and contempt, like his Divine Master, St. Louis gives us, at the close of his “Letter,” some wise, prudent rules that teach us how to suffer and bear our crosses patiently, willingly and joyfully in the footsteps of Our Lord and Crucified Savior. Thus convinced of the necessity of the Cross, stimulated by the happy effects it produces in our souls, and guided by these same rules laid down by St. Louis De Montfort we will more readily renounce Satan, the world and the flesh; we will more patiently bear our trials, crosses and tribulations and we will more carefully heed Christ’s admonition: “If any one wishes to come after Me let him deny himself, and take up his cross daily and follow Me” (Luke: 8–23).

The Editor

INTRODUCTION

Dear Friends of the Cross:

1. Since the divine Cross keeps me hidden and prevents me from speaking, I cannot, and do not even wish to express to you by word of mouth the feelings of my heart on the divine excellence and practices of your Association in the adorable Cross of Jesus Christ.

However, on this last day of my retreat, I come out, as it were, from the sweet retirement of my interior, to trace upon paper a few little arrows from the Cross with which to pierce your noble hearts. God grant that I could point them with the blood of my veins and not with the ink of my pen. Even if blood were required, mine, alas!, would be unworthy. May the spirit of the living God, then, be the life, vigor and tenor of this letter. May His unction be my ink, His divine Cross my pen and your hearts my paper.

PART I

EXCELLENCE OF THE ASSOCIATION OF THE FRIENDS OF THE CROSS

1. -Grandeur of the Name, Friends of the Cross

2. Friends of the Cross, you are a group of crusaders united to fight against the world, not like those religious, men and women, who leave the world for fear of being overcome, but like brave, intrepid warriors on the battlefront, refusing to retreat or even to yield an inch. Be brave. Fight with all your might.

Bind yourselves together in that strong union of heart and mind which is far superior, far more terrifying to the world and hell! than the armed forces of a well-organized kingdom are to its enemies. Demons are united for your destruction, but you, be united for their overthrow; the avaricious are united to barter and hoard up gold and silver, combine your efforts in the pursuit of the eternal treasures hidden in the Cross; reprobates unite to make merry, but you, be united to suffer.

3. You call yourselves “Friends of the Cross.” What a wonderful name! I must admit that it charms and fascinates me. It is brighter than the sun, higher than the heavens, more imposing and resplendent than any title given to king or emperor. It is the great name of Christ Himself, true God and true Man at one and the same time. It is the unmistakable title of a Christian.

4. Its splendor dazzles me but the weight of it frightens me. For this title implies that you have taken upon yourselves difficult and inescapable obligations, which are summed up in the words of the Holy Ghost: “A chosen generation,a kingly priesthood, a holy nation, a purchased people” (1 Peter 2, 9).

A Friend of the Cross is one chosen by God from among ten thousand who have reason and sense for their only guide. He is truly divine, raised above reason and thoroughly opposed to the things of sense, for he lives in the light of true faith and burns with love for the Cross.

A Friend of the Cross is a mighty king, a hero who triumphs over the devil, the world and the flesh and their threefold concupiscence. He overthrows the pride ofSatan by his love for humiliation, he triumphs over the world’s greed by his love for poverty and he restrains the sensuality of the flesh by his love for suffering.

A Friend of the Cross is a holy man, separated from visible things. His heart is lifted high above all that is frail and perishable; “his conversation is in heaven” (Phil. 3, 20); he journeys here below like a stranger and pilgrim. He keeps his heart free from the world, looks upon it with an unconcerned glance of his left eye and disdainfully tramples it under foot.

A Friend of the Cross is a trophy which the crucified Christ won on Calvary, in union with His Blessed Mother. He is another Benoni (Gen. 35, 18) or Benjamin, a son of sorrow, a son of the right hand. Conceived in the sorrowful heart of Christ, he comes into this world through the gash in the Savior’s right side and is all empurpled in His blood. True to this heritage, he breathes forth only crosses and blood, death to the world, the flesh and sin and hides himself here below with Jesus Christ in God (Col. 3, 3).

Thus, a perfect Friend of the Cross is a true Christ-bearer, or rather another Christ, so much so that he can say with truth: “I live, now not I, but Christ liveth in me” (Gal. 2, 20).

5. My dear Friends of the Cross, does every act of yours justify what the eminent name you bear implies? Or at least are you, with the grace of God, in the shadow of Calvary’s Cross and of Our Lady of Pity, really eager and truly striving to attain this goal? Is the way you follow the one that leads to this goal? Is it the true way of life, the narrow way, the thorn-strewn way to Calvary? Or are you unconsciously traveling the world’s broad road, the road to perdition? Do you realize that there is a highroad which to all appearances is straight and safe for man to travel, but which in reality leads to death?

6. Do you really know the voice of God and grace from the voice of the world and human nature? Do you distinctly hear the voice of God, our kind Father, pronouncing His three-fold curse upon every one who follows the world in its concupiscence: “Woe, woe, woe to the inhabitants of the earth” (Apoc. 8, 13) and then appealing to you with outstretched arms: “Be separated, My chosen people (Is. 48,20; 52,11; Jer. 50,8; 51,6), beloved Friends of the Cross of My Son, be separated from those worldlings, for they are accursed by My Majesty, repudiated by My Son (John 17,9) and condemned by My Holy Spirit (John 16,8–12). Do not sit in their chair of pestilence; take no part in their gatherings; do not even step along their highways (Ps. 1,1). Hurry away from this great and infamous Babylon (Is. 48,20; Jer. 51,6); hearken only to the voice of My Beloved Son; follow only in His footprints; for He is the One I have given to be your Way, Truth, Life (John 14,6) and Model: hear yeHim” (Matt. 17,5; Luke 9,35; Mark 9,6; 2 Pet. 1,17).

Is your ear attentive to the pleadings of the lovable and crossburdened Jesus, “Come, follow Me; he that followeth Me walketh not in darkness (John 8,12); have confidence, I have conquered the world” (John 16, 33)?

Il-The Two Groups

A-THE FOLLOWERS OF CHRIST AND THE FOLLOWERS OF THE WORLD

7. Dear Brethren, these are the two groups that appear before you each day, the followers of Christ and the followers of the world.

Our loving Savior’s group is to the right, scaling a narrow path made all the narrower by the world’s corruption. Our kind Master is in the lead, barefooted, thorn-crowned, robed in His blood and weighted with a heavy cross. There is only a handful of people who follow Him, but they are the bravest of the brave. His gentle voice is not heard above the tumult of the world, or men do not have the courage to follow Him in poverty, suffering, humiliation and in the other crosses His servants must bear all the days of their life.

B -THE OPPOSING SPIRIT OF THE GROUPS

8. To the left is the world’s group, the devil’s in fact, which is far superior in number, and seemingly far more colorful and splendid in array. Fashionable folk are all in a hurry to enlist, the highways are overcrowded, although they are broad and ever broadening with the crowds that flow through in a torrent. These roads are strewn with flowers, bordered with all kinds of amusements and attractions, and paved with gold and silver (Matt. 7,13–14).

9. To the right, the little flock that follows Jesus can speak only of tears, penance, prayer and contempt for worldly things. Sobbing in their grief, they can be heard repeating: “Let suffer, let us weep, let us fast, let us pray, let us hide, let us humble ourselves, let us be poor, let us mortify ourselves, for he who has not the spirit of Christ, the spirit of the Cross, is none of Christ’s. Those who are Christ’s have crucified their flesh with its concupiscence. We must be conformed to the image of Jesus Christ or else be damned!” “Be brave,” they keep saying to each other, “be brave, for if God is for us, in us and leading us, who dare be against us? The One Who is dwelling within us is stronger than the one who is in the world; no servant is above his master; one moment of light tribulation worketh an eternal weight of glory; there are fewer elect than man may think; only the brave and daring take heaven by storm; the crown is given only to those who strive lawfully according to the Gospel, not according to the fashion of the world. Let us put all our strength into the fight, and run very fast to reach the goal and win the crown.” Friends of the Cross spur each other on with such divine words.

10. Worldlings, on the contrary, rouse one another to persist in their unscrupulous depravity. “Enjoy life, peace and pleasure,” they shout, “Enjoy life, peace and pleasure. Let us eat, let us drink, let us sing, let us dance, let us play. God is good, He did not make us to damn us; God does not forbid us to enjoy ourselves; we shall not be damned for that; away with scruples; we shall not die.” And so they continue.

C -LOVING APPEAL OF JESUS

11. Dear Brethren, remember that our beloved Jesus has His eyes upon you at this moment, addressing you individually: “See how almost everybody leaves Me practically alone on the royal road of the Cross. Blind idolworshipers sneer at My Cross and brand it folly. Obstinate Jews are scandalized at the sight of it as at some monstrosity (1 Cor. 1,23). Heretics tear it down and break it to pieces out of sheer contempt. But one thing I cannot say without My eyes filling with tears and My heart being pierced with grief is that the very children I nourished in My bosom and trained in My school, the very members I quickened with My spirit have turned against Me, forsaken Me and joined the ranks of the enemies of My Cross (Is. 1,2; Phil. 3,18). Would you also leave Me? (John 6,68). Would you also forsake me and flee from My Cross, like the worldlings, who are acting as so many Anti-Christs? (1 John 2,12). Would you subscribe to the standards of the day (Rom. 12,2), despise the poverty of My Cross and go in quest of riches; shun the sufferings connected with My Cross, to run after pleasure; spurn the humiliations that must be borne with My Cross, and pursue worldly honors? There are many who pretend that they are friends of Mine and love Me but in reality they hate Me because they have no love for My Cross. I have many friends of My table, but few indeed of My Cross.” (Imitation of Jesus Christ, Book 2, Chap. 11.)

12. In answer to the gracious invitation which Jesus extends, let us rise above ourselves. Let us not, like Eve, listen to the insidious suggestion of sense. Let us look up to the unique Author and Finisher of our faith, Jesus crucified (Heb. 12,2). Let us fly from the corrupting concupiscence and enticements of a corrupt world (2 Pet. 1,4). Let us love Jesus in the right way, standing by Him through the heaviest of crosses. Let us meditate seriously on these remarkable words of our beloved Master which sum upthe Christian life in its perfection: “If any man will come after Me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross, and follow Me” (Matt. 16,24).

PART II

PRACTICES OF CHRISTIAN PERFECTION The DivineMaster’s Program

13. Christian perfection consists:

1. in willing to become a saint: “If any man will come after Me”;

2. in selfdenial: “Let him deny himself”;

3. in suffering: “Let him take up his cross”;

4. in doing: “Let him follow Me.”

14. If anyone, not many a one, shows that the elect who are willing to be made conformable to the crucified Christ by carrying their cross are few in number. It would cause us to faint away from grief to learn how surprisingly small is their number.

It is so small that among ten thousand people there is scarcely one to be found, as was revealed to several Saints, among whom St. Simon Stylita, referred to by the holy Abbot Nilus, followed by St. Basil, St. Ephrem and others. So small, indeed, that if God willed to gather them together, He would have to cry out as he did of yore through the voice of a prophet: “Come ye together one by one” (Is. 27,12), one from this province and one from that kingdom.*

I -THE DESIRE TO BECOME A SAINT?

15. If anyone wills: if a person has a real and definite determination and is prompted not by natural feelings, habit, self-love, personal interest or human respect but by an all-masterful grace of the Holy Ghost which is not communicated indiscriminately: “it is not given to all men to understand this mystery” (Matt. 13,11). In fact, only a privileged number of men receive this practical knowledge of the mystery of the Cross. For that man who climbs up to Calvary and lets himself be nailed on the Cross with Jesus in the heart of his own country must be a brave man, a hero, a resolute man, one who is lifted up in God, who treats as muck both the world and hell, as well as his very body and his own will. He must be resolved to relinquish all things, to undertake anything and to suffer everything for Jesus.

Understand this, dear Friends of the Cross, should there be anyone among you who has not this firm resolve, he is just limping along on one foot, flying with one wing, and undeserving of your company, since he is not worthy to be called a Friend of the Cross, forwe must love the Cross as Jesus Christ loved it “with a great heart and a willing mind” (2 Mach. 1,3). That kind of half-hearted will is enough to spoil the whole flock, like a sheep with the scurvy. If any such one has slipped into your fold through the contaminated door of the world, then in the name of the crucified Christ, drive him out as you would a wolf from your sheepfold.

16. “If anyone will come after Me”: for I have humbled Myself and reduced Myself to mere nothingness in such a way that I made Myself a worm rather than a man: “I am a worm and no man” (Ps. 21,7). After Me: for if I came into the world, it was only to espouse the Cross: “Behold I am come” (Ps. 39,8; Heb. 10,7–9); to set the cross in My heart of hearts: “In the midst of my heart” (Ps. 39,9); to love it from the days of my youth: “I have loved it from my youth” (Wisdom 8,2); only to long for it all the days of my life: “how straitened I am” (Luke 12,50); only to bear it with a joy I preferred even to the joys and delights that heaven and earth could offer: “Who, having joy set before him, endured the cross” (Heb. 12,2); and, finally, not to be satisfied until I had expired in its divine embrace.

IL-SELF-DENIAL

17. Therefore, if anyone wants to come after Me, annihilated and crucified, he must glory as I did only in the poverty, humiliation and suffering of My Cross: “let him deny himself” (Matt. 16,24).

Far be from the Company of the Friends of the Cross those who pride themselves in suffering, the worldly-wise, elated geniuses and self-conceited individuals who are stubborn and puffed-up with their lights and talents. Far be they from us, those endless talkers who make plenty of noise but bring forth no other fruit than vainglory.

Far from us those high-browed devotees everywhere displaying the selfsufficient pride of Lucifer: “I am not like the rest!I” (Luke 18,11). Far be from us those who must always justify themselves when blamed, resist when attacked and exalt themselves when humbled.

Be careful not to admit into your fellowship those frail, sensitive persons who are afraid of the slightest pin-prick, who sob and sigh when faced with the lightest suffering, who have never experienced a hair-shirt, a discipline or any other penitential instrument, and who, with their fashionable devotions, mingle the most artful delicacy and the most refined lack of mortification.

* St. De Montfort here speaks of that small group of saintly souls who carry their cross more perfectly. He does not, however, exclude from salvation that vast multitude of less perfect Christians which the mercy of God wills to save.

III -SUFFERING

18. Let him take up his cross, the one that is his. Let this man or this woman, rarely to be found and worth more than the entire world (Prov. 31,10–31), take up with joy, fervently clasp in his arms and bravely set upon his shoulders this cross that is his own and not that of another; his own cross, the one that My Wisdom designed for him in every detail of number, weight and measurement; his own cross whose four dimensions, its length, breadth, thickness and height (Eph. 3,18), I very accurately gauged with My own hands; his own cross which all out of love for him I carved from a section of the very Cross I bore on Calvary; his cross, the grandest of all the gifts I have for My chosen ones on earth; his cross, made up in its thickness of temporal loss, humiliation, disdain, sorrow, illness and spiritual trial which My Providence will not fail to supply him with every day of his life; his cross, made up in its length of a definite period of days or months when he will have to bear with slander or be helplessly stretched out on a bed of pain, or forced to beg, or else a prey to temptation, dryness, desolation and many another mental anguish; his cross, made up in its breadth of hard and bitter situations stirred up for him by his relatives, friends or servants; his cross, finally, made up in its depth of secret sufferings which I will have him endure nor will I allow him any comfort from created beings, for by My order they will turn from him too and even join Me in making him suffer.

19. Let him carry it, and not drag it, not shoulder it off, not lighten it, nor hide it. Let him hold it high in hand, without impatience or peevishness, without voluntary complaint or grumbling, without dividing or softening, without shame or human respect.

Let him place it on his forehead and say with St. Paul: “God forbid that I should glory save in the Cross of Our Lord Jesus Christ” (Gal. 6,14).

Let him carry it on his shoulders, after the example of Jesus Christ, and make it his weapon to victory and the scepter of his empire (Is. 9,16).

Let him root it in his heart and there change it into a fiery bush, burning day and night with the pure love of God, without being consumed.

20. The cross: it is the cross he must carry for there is nothing more necessary, more useful, more agreeable and more glorious than suffering for Jesus Christ.

21. All of you are sinners and there is not a single one who is not deserving of hell; I myself deserve it the most. These sins of ours must be punished either here or hereafter. If they are punished in this world, they will not be punished in the world to come.

If we agree to God’s punishing here below, this punishment will be dictated by love. For mercy, which holds sway in this world, will mete out the punishment, and not strict justice. This punishment will be light and momentary, blended with merit and sweetness and followed up with reward both in time and eternity.

22. But if the punishment due to our sins is held over for the next world, then God’s avenging justice, which means fire and blood, will see to the punishing. What horrible punishment! How incomprehensible, how unspeakable! “Who knoweth the power of thy anger?” (Ps. 89,11). Punishment devoid of mercy (James 2,13), pity, mitigation or merit; without limit and without end. Yes, without end! That mortal sin of a moment that you committed, that deliberate evil thought which now escapes your memory, the word that is gone with the wind, that act of such short duration against God’s law-they shall all be punished for an eternity, punished with the devils of hell, as long as God is God! The God of vengeance will have no pity on your torments or your sobs and tears, violent enough to cleave the rocks. Suffering and still more suffering, without merit, without mercy and without end!

23. Do we think of this, my dear Brothers and Sisters, when we have some trial to undergo here below? Blessed indeed are we who have the privilege of exchanging an eternal and fruitless penalty for a temporary and meritorious suffering, just by patiently carrying our cross. What debts we still have to pay! How many sins we have committed which, despite a sincere confession and heartfelt contrition, will have to be atoned for in Purgatory for many a century, simply because in this world we were satisfied with a few insignificant penances! Let us settle our debts with good grace here below in cheerfully bearing our crosses, for in the world to come everything must be expiated, even the idle word (Matt. 12,36) and even to the last farthing. If we could lay hands on the devil’s death-register in which he has noted down all our sins and the penalty to be paid, what a heavy debit we would find and how joyfully we would suffer many years here on earth rather than a single day in the world to come.

24. Do you not flatter yourselves, Friends of the Cross, that you are, or that you want to be, the friends of God? Be firmly resolved then to drink of the chalice which you must necessarily drink if you wish to enjoy the friendship of God. “They drank the chalice of the Lord and became the friends of God” (Common of Apostles, Lesson 7). The beloved Benjamin had the chalice while his brothers had only the wheat (Gen. 44,1–4). The disciple whom Jesus preferred had his Master’s heart, went up with Him to Calvary and drank of the chalice. “Can you drink my chalice?” (Matt 20,22). To desire God’s glory is good, indeed, but to desire it and pray for it without being resolved to suffer all things is mere folly and senseless asking. “You know not what you ask (Matt. 20,2 2) . . . you must undergo much suffering” (Acts 14,21): you must, it is necessary, it is indispensable!

We can enter the kingdom of heaven only at the price of many crosses and tribulations.

25.You take pride in being God’s children and you do well; but you should also rejoice in the lashes your good Father has given you and in those He still means to give you; for He scourges every one of His children (Prov. 3,11; Heb. 13,5–6; Apoc. 3,19). If you are not of the household of His beloved sons, then-how unfortunate! what a calamity!-you are, as St. Augustine says, listed with the reprobate. Augustine also says: “The one that does not mourn like a stranger and wayfarer in this world cannot rejoice in the world to come as a citizen of heaven” (Sermon 31, 5 and 6). If God the Father does not send you worth-while crosses from time to time, that is because He no longer cares for you and is angry at you. He considers you a stranger, an outsider undeserving of His hospitality, or an unlawful child who has no rightto share in his father’s estate and no title to his father’s supervision and discipline.

26. Friends of the Cross, disciples of a crucified God, the mystery of the Cross is a mystery unknown to the Gentiles, repudiated by the Jews and spurned by both heretics and bad Catholics, yet it is the great mystery which you must learn to practice at the school of Jesus Christ and which you can learn only at His School. You would look in vain for any philosopher who taught it in the Academies of ancient times; you would ask in vain either the senses or reason to throw any light on it, for Jesus alone, through His triumphant grace, is able to teach you this mystery and make you relish it.

Become proficient, therefore, in this super-eminent branch of learning under such a skillful Master. Having this knowledge, you will be possessed of all other branches of learning, for it surpassingly comprises them all. The Cross is our natural as well as our supernatural philosophy. It is our divine and mysterious theology. It ía our philosopherstone which, by dint of patience, is able to transmute the grossest of metals into precious ones, the sharpest pain into delight, poverty into wealth and the deepest humiliation into glory. He amongst you who knows how to carry his cross, though he know not A from B, towers above all others in learning.

Listen to the great St. Paul, after his return from the third heaven, where he was initiated into mysteries which even the Angels had not learned. He proclaims that he knows nothing and wants to know nothing but Jesus Christ crucified (1 Cor. 2,2). You can rejoice, then, if you happen to be a poor man without any schooling or a poor woman deprived of intellectual attainments, for if you know how to suffer with joy you are far more learned than a doctor of the Sorbonne who is unable to suffer as you do.

27. You are members of Jesus Christ (1 Cor. 6,15; 12,27; Eph. 5,30). What an honor! But, also, what need for suffering this entails! When the Head is crowned with thorns should the members be wearing a laurel of roses? When the Head is jeered at and covered with mud from Calvary’s road should its members be enthroned and sprayed with perfume? When the Head has no pillow on which to rest, should its members be reclining on soft feathers? What an unheard of monster such a one would be! No, no, dear companions of the Cross, make no mistake. The Christians you see around you, fashionably attired, super-sensitive, excessively haughty and sedate, are neither true disciples nor true members of the crucified Jesus. To think otherwise would be an insult to your thorn-crowned Head and His Gospel truth.

My God! How many would-be Christians there are who imagine they are members of the Savior when in reality they are His most insidious persecutors, for while blessing themselves with the sign of the Cross, they crucify Him in their hearts.

If you are led by the spirit of Jesus and are living the same life with Him, your thorn-crowned Head, then you must look forward to nothing but thorns, nails and lashes, in a word, to nothing but a cross.

A real disciple needs to be treated as his Master was, a member as its Head. And if the Head should offer you, as He offered St. Catherine of Siena, the choice between a crown of thorns and a crown of roses, do as she did and grasp the crown of thorns, fastening it tightly to your brow in the likeness of Jesus.

28. You are aware of the fact that you are living temples of the Holy Spirit (1 Cor. 6,19) and that, like living stones (1 Pet. 2,5), you are to be placed by the God of love in the heavenly Jerusalem He is building. You must expect then to be shaped, cut and chiseled under the hammer of the Cross, otherwise you would remain unpolished stone, of no value at all, to be disregarded and cast aside. Do not cause the hammer to recoil when it strikes you. Yield to the chisel that is carving you and the hand that is shaping you. It may be that this skillful and loving Architect wants to make you a cornerstone in His eternal edifice, one of His most faithful portraits in the heavenly kingdom. So let Him see to it. He loves you, He really loves you; He knows what He is doing, He has experience. Love is behind every one of His telling strokes; nor will a single stroke miscarry unless your impatience deflects it.

29. At times the Holy Spirit compares the cross to a winnowing that clears the good grain from the chaff and dust (Matt. 3,13; Luke 3,17). Like grain in the winnowing, then, let yourself be shaken up and tossed about without resistance, for the Father of the household is winnowing you and will soon have you in His harvest. He also likens the cross to a fire whose intense heat burns rust off iron. God is a devouring fire (Deut. 4,24; 9,3; Heb. 13,29) dwelling in our souls through His Cross, purifying them yet not consuming them, exemplified in the past in a burning bush (Ex. 3,2–3). He likens it at times to the crucible of a forge where gold is refined (Prov. 17,3; Eccli. 2,5) and dross vanishes in smoke, but, in the processing, the precious metal must be tried by fire while the baser constituents go up in smoke and flame. So, too, in the crucible of tribulation and temptation, true Friends of the Cross are purified by their constancy in suffering while the enemies of the Cross vanish in smoke by their impatience and murmurings.

30. Behold, dear Friends of the Cross, before you a great cloud of witnesses (Heb. 12,1–2) who silently testify that what I assert is the truth. For instance, consider Abel, a righteous man, who was slain by his own brother; then Abraham, a righteous man, who journeyed on the earth like a wanderer; Lot, a righteous man, who was driven from his own country; Jacob, a righteous man, who was persecuted by his own brother; Tobias, a righteous man, who was stricken with blindness; Job, a righteous man, who was pauperized, humiliated and covered with sores from the crown of his head to the soles of his feet.

31. Consider the countless Apostles and Martyrs who were bathed in their own blood; the countless Virgins and Confessors who were pauperized, humiliated, exiled and cast aside. Like St. Paul they fervently proclaim: Behold our beloved Jesus, “Author and Finisher of the faith” (Heb. 12,2) we put in Him and in His Cross; it was necessary for Him to suffer and so to enter through the Cross into His glory (Luke 24,26).

There at the side of Jesus consider Mary, who had never known either original or actual sin, yet whose tender, Immaculate Heart was pierced with a sharp sword even to its very depths. If I had time to dwell on the Passion of Jesus and Mary, I could prove that our sufferings are naught compared to theirs.

32. Who, then, would dare claim exemption from the cross? Who would refuse to rush to the very place where he knows he will find a cross awaiting him? Who would refuse to borrow the words of the martyr, St. Ignatius: “Let fire and gallows, wild beasts and all the torments of the devil assail me, so that I may rejoice in the possession of Jesus Christ.”

33. If you have not the patience to suffer and the generosity to bear your cross like the chosen ones of God, then you will have to trudge under its weight, grumbling and fretting like reprobates; like the two animals that dragged the Ark of the Covenant, lowing as they went (1 Kings 6,12); like Simon the Cyrenaean who unwillingly put his hand to the very Cross of Christ (Matt. 27,32; Mark 15,21), complaining while he carried it. You will be like the impenitent thief who from the summit of his cross plunged headlong into the depths of the abyss.

No, the cursed earth on which we live cannot give us happiness. We can see none too clearly in this benighted land. We are never perfectly calm on this troubled sea. . We are never without warfare in a world of temptation and battlefields. We cannot escape scratches on a thorn-covered earth. Both elect and reprobate must bear their cross here, either willingly or unwillingly. Remember these words:

“Three crosses stand on Calvary’s height

One must be chosen, so choose aright; Like a saint you must suffer, or a penitent thief,

Or like a reprobate, in endless grief.”

This means that if you will not suffer gladly as Jesus did, or patiently like the penitent thief, then you must suffer despite yourself like the impenitent thief. You will have to drain the bitterest chalice even to the dregs, and with no hope of relief through grace.

You will have to bear the entire weight of your cross, and without the powerful help of Jesus Christ. Then, too, you will have that awful weight to bear which the devil will add to your cross, by means of the impatience the cross will cause you. After sharing the impenitent thief’s unhappiness here on earth, you will meet him again in the fires of hell.

34. But if you suffer as you should, your cross will be a sweet yoke (Matt. 11,30), for Christ will share it with you. Your soul will be borne on it as on a pair of wings to the portals of Heaven. It will be the mast on your ship guiding you happily and easily to the harbor of salvation.

Carry your cross with patience: a cross patiently borne will be your light in spiritual darkness, for he knows naught who knows not how to suffer (Eccli. 34,9).

Carry your cross with joy and you will be inflamed with divine love, for only in suffering can we dwell in the pure love of Christ.

Roses are only gathered from among thorns. As wood is fuel for the fire, so too is the Cross the only fuel for God’s love. Remember that saying we read in the “Following of Christ”: “Inasmuch as you do violence to yourself,” suffering patiently, “insofar do you advance” in divine love (Bk. 1, Chap. 15,11). Do not expect anything great from those fastidious, slothful souls who refuse the Cross when it approaches and who do not go in search of any, when discretion allows. What are they but untilled soil, which can produce only thorns because it has not been turned up, harrowed and furrowed by a judicious laborer. They are like stagnant water which is unfit for either washing or drinking.

Carry your cross joyfully and none of your enemies will be able to resist its conquering strength (Luke 21,15), while you yourself will enjoy its relish beyond compare. Yes, indeed, Brethren, remember that the real Paradise here on earth is to be found in suffering for Jesus, Ask the saints. They will tell you that they never tasted a banquet so delicious to the soul than when undergoing the severest torments. St. Ignatius the Martyr said: “Let all the torments of the devil come upon me!” “Either suffering or death!,” said St. Theresa, and St. Magdalen de Pazzi: “Not death but suffering!” “May I suffer and be despised for Thy sake,” said Blessed John of the Cross. In reading the lives of the saints we find many others speaking in the self-same terms.

Dear Brethren, believe the Word of God, for the Holy Spirit says: The Cross affords all kinds of joy to anyone without exception who suffers cheerfully for God, (Jas. 1,2). The joy that springs from the cross is keener than the joy which a poor person would experience if over-laden with an abundance of riches, than the joy of a peasant who is made ruler of his country, than the joy of a commander-in-chief over the victories he has won, than the joy of a prisoner released from his fetters. In conclusion, let us picture the greatest joys to be found here below: the joy of a crucified person who knows how to suffer not only equals them but even surpasses them all.

35. Be glad, therefore, and rejoice when God favors you with one of His choicest crosses, for without realizing it you are being blessed with the greatest gift that Heaven has, the greatest gift of God. Yes, the cross is God’s greatest gift. If you could only understand this, you would have Masses said, you would make novenas at the tombs of the saints; you would undertake long pilgrimages, as did the saints, to obtain this divine gift from Heaven.

36. The world claims it is madness on your part, degrading and stupid, rash and reckless. Let the world, in its blindness, say what it likes. This blindness which is responsible for a merely human and distorted view of the cross is a source of glory for us. For every time they provide us with crosses by mocking and persecuting us, they are simply offering us jewels, setting us upon a throne and crowning us with laurels.

37. What I say is but little. Take all the wealth and honors and scepters and brilliant diadems of monarchs and princes, says St. John Chrysostom, they are all insignificant compared with the glory of the Cross; it is greater even than the glory of the Apostles and the Sacred Writers. Enlightened by the Holy Spirit, this saintly man goes as far as to say: “If I were given the preference, I would gladly leave Heaven to suffer for the God of Heaven. I would prefer the darkness of a dungeon to the thrones of the highest heaven and the heaviest of crosses to the glory of the Seraphim. Suffering for me is of greater value than the gift of miracles, the power to command the infernal spirits, to master the physical universe, to stop the sun in its course and to raise the dead to life. Peter and Paul are more glorious in the shackles of a dungeon than in being lifted to the third heaven and presented with the keys to Paradise.”

38.In fact, was it not the Cross that gave Jesus Christ “a name which is above all names; that in the name of Jesus every knee should bow of those that are in heaven, on earth and under the earth” (Phil. 2,9–10). The glory of the one who knows how to suffer is so great that the radiance of his splendor rejoices heaven, angels and men and even the God of Heaven. If the saints in Heaven could still wish for something they would want to return to earth so as to have the privilege of bearing a cross.

39. If the cross is covered with such glory on earth, how magnificent it must be in Heaven. Who could ever understand and tell the eternal weight of glory we are given when, even for a single instant, we bear a cross as a cross should be borne (2 Cor. 4,17). Who could ever collate the glory that will be given in Heaven for the crosses and sufferings we carried for a year, perhaps even for a lifetime.

40. Evidently, my dear Friends of the Cross, heaven is preparing something grand for you, as you are told by a great Saint, since the Holy Ghost has united you so intimately to an object which the whole world so carefully avoids. Evidently, God wishes to make of you as many saints as you are Friends of the Cross, if you are faithful to your calling and dutifully carry your cross as Jesus Christ has carried His.

IV -IN CHRIST-LIKE FASHION

41. But mere suffering is not enough. For even the devil and the world have their martyrs. We must suffer and bear our crosses in the footsteps of Jesus. Let him follow Me: this means that we must bear our crosses as Jesus bore His. To help you do this, I suggest the following rules:

V FOURTEEN RULES TO FOLLOW IN CARRYING ONE”S CROSS

42. First. Do not, deliberately and through your own fault, procure crosses for yourself. You must not do evil in order to bring about good. You should never try to bring discredit upon yourself by doing things improperly, unless you have a special inspiration from on high. Strive rather to imitate Jesus Christ, who did all things well (Mark 7,37), not out of self-love or vainglory, but to please God and to win over His fellow-men. Even though you do the best you can in the performance of your duty, you will still have to contend with contradiction, persecution and contempt which Divine Providence will send you against your will and without your choice.

43. Second. Should your neighbor be scandalized, although without reason, at any action of yours which in itself is neither good nor bad, then, for the sake of charity, refrain from it, to avoid the scandal of the weak. This heroic act of charity will be of much greater worth than the thing you were doing or intended to do.

If, however, you are doing some beneficial or necessary thing for others and were unreasonably disapproved by a hypocrite or prejudiced person, then refer the matter to a prudent adviser, letting him judge of its expedience and necessity. Should his decision be favorable, you have only to continue and let these others talk, provided they take no means to prevent you. Under such circumstances, you have Our Lord’s answer to His disciples when they informed Him that Scribes andPharisees were scandalized at His words and deeds: “Let them alone; they are blind.” (Matt. 15,14).

44. Third. Certain holy and distinguished persons have been asking for and seeking, or even, by eccentricities, bringing upon themselves, crosses, disdain and humiliation. Let us simply adore and admire the extraordinary workings of the Holy Spirit in these souls. Let us humble ourselves in the presence of this sublime virtue, without making any attempt to reach such heights, for compared with these racing eagles and roaring lions we are simply fledglings and cubs.

45. Fourth. You can nevertheless and even should ask for the wisdom of the Cross, that sapid, experimental knowledge of the truth, which, in the light of faith, shows us the deepest mysteries, among others the mystery of the Cross. But this can be had only by dint of hard toil, profound humiliation and fervent prayer. If you need that perfect spirit (Ps. 50,14) which enables us to bear the heaviest crosses with courage-that sweet, kindly spirit (Luke 11,13) which enables us to relish in the higher part of the soul things that are bitter and repulsive-that wholesome, upright spirit (Ps. 50,12) which seeks God and God alone-that all-embracing knowledge of the Cross- briefly that infinite treasure which gives the soul that knows how to make good use of it a share in the friendship of God (Wisdom 7,14), ask for this wisdom, ask for it constantly, fervently, without hesitation or fear of not obtaining it. You will certainly obtain it and then see clearly, in the light of your own experience, how it is possible to desire, seek and relish the Cross.

46. Fifth. If, inadvertently, you blunder into a cross, or even if you do so through your own fault, forthwith humble yourselves interiorly under the mighty hand of God (1 Pet. 5,6), but do not worry over it. You might say to yourself: “Lord, there is another trick of my trade.” If the mistake you made was sinful, accept the humiliation you suffer as punishment. But if it was not sinful, then humbly accept it in expiation of your pride. Often, actually very often, God allows His greatest servants, those who are far advanced in grace, to make the most humiliating mistakes. This humbles them in their own eyes and in the eyes of their fellow men. It prevents them from seeing and taking pride in the graces God bestows on them or in the good deeds they do, so that, as the Holy Ghost declares: “no flesh should glory in the sight of God” (1 Cor. 1,29).

47. Sixth. Be fully persuaded that through the sin of Adam and through our own actual sins everything within ourselves is vitiated, not only the senses of the body but even the powers of the soul. So much so that as soon as the mind, thus vitiated, takes delight in poring over some gift received from God, then the gift itself, or the act or the grace is tarnished and vitiated and God no longer favors it with His divine regard. Since looks and thoughts of the human mind can spoil man’s best actions and God’s choicest gifts, what about the acts which proceed from man’s own will and which are more corrupt than the acts of the mind?

So we need not wonder, when God hides His own within the shadow of His countenance (Ps. 30,21), that they may not be defiled by the regards of their fellow men or by their own self-consciousness. What does not this jealous God allow and do to keep them hidden! How often He humiliates them! Into how many faults He permits them to fall! How often He allows them to be tempted as St. Paul was tempted (2 Cor. 12,7)! In what a state of uncertainty, perplexity and darkness He leaves them! How wonderful God is in His saints, and in the means He takes to lead them to humility and holiness!

48. Seventh. Be careful not to imitate proud self-centered zealots. Do not think that your crosses are tremendous, that they are tests of your fidelity to God and tokens of God’s extraordinary love for you. This gesture has its source in spiritual pride. It is a snare quite subtle and beguiling but full of venom. You ought to acknowledge, first, that you are so proud and sensitive that you magnify straws into rafters, scratches into deep wounds, rats into elephants, a meaningless word, a mere nothing, in truth, into an outrageous, treasonable insult. Second, you should acknowledge that the crosses God sends you are really and truly loving punishments for your sins, and not special marks of God’s benevolence. Third, you must admit that He is infinitely lenient when He sends you some cross or humiliation, in comparison with the number and atrocity of your sins. For these sins should be considered in the light of the holiness of a God Whom you have offended and Who can tolerate nothing that is defiled; in the light of a God dying and weighted down with sorrow at the sight of your sins; in the light of an everlasting hell which you have deserved a thousand times, perhaps a hundred thousand times. Fourth, you should admit that the patience you put into suffering is more tinged than you think with natural human motives. You have only to note your little self-indulgences, your skillful seeking for sympathy, these confidences you so naturally make to friends or perhaps to your spiritual director, your quick, clever excuses, the murmurings or rather the detractions so neatly worded, so charitably spoken against those who have injured you, the exquisite delight you take in dwelling on your misfortunes and that belief so characteristic of Lucifer, that you are somebody (Acts 8,9), and so forth. Why I should never finish if I were to point out all the ways and by-ways human nature takes, even in its sufferings.

49. Eighth. Take advantage of your sufferings and more so of the small ones than of the great. God considers not so much what we suffer as how we suffer. To suffer much, yet badly, is to suffer like reprobates. To suffer much, even bravely, but for a wicked cause, is to suffer as a martyr of the devil. To suffer much or little for the sake of God is to suffer like saints.

If it be right to say that we can choose our crosses, this is particularly true of the little and obscure ones as compared with the huge, conspicuous ones, for proud human nature would likely ask and seek for the huge, conspicuous crosses even to the point of preferring them and embracing them. But to choose small, unnoticeable crosses and to carry them cheerfully requires the power of a special grace and unshakeable fidelity to God. Do then as the storekeeper does with his merchandise: make a profit on every article; suffer not the loss of the tiniest fragment of the true Cross. It may be only the sting of a fly or the point of a pin that annoys you, it may be the little eccentricities of a neighbor, some unintentional slight, the insignificant loss of a penny, some little restlessness of soul, a slight physical weakness, a light pain in your limbs. Make a profit on every article as the grocer does, and you will soon become wealthy in God, as the grocer does in money, by adding penny to penny in his till. When you meet with the least contradiction, simply say: “Blessed be God! My God I thank you.” Then treasure up in the till of God’s memory the cross which has just given you a profit. Think no more of it, except to say: “Many thanks!” or, “Be merciful!”

50. Ninth. The love you are told to have for the Cross is not sensible love, for this would be impossible to human nature.

It is important to note the three kinds of love: sensible love, rational love and love that is faithful “and supreme; in other words, the love that springs from the lower part of man, the flesh; the love that springs from the superior part, his reason; and the love that springs from the supreme part of man, from the summit of his soul, which is the intellect enlightened by faith.

51. God does not ask you to love the Cross with the will of the flesh. Since the flesh is the subject of evil and corruption, all that proceeds from it is evil and it cannot, of itself, submit to the will of God and His crucifying law. It was this aspect of His human nature which Our Lord referred to when He cried out, in the Garden of Olives: “Father, . . . not My will but Thine be done.” (Luke 22,42). If the lower powers of Our Lord’s human nature, though holy, could not love the Cross without interruption, then, with still greater reason, will our human nature, which is very much vitiated, repel it. At times, like many of the saints, we too may experience a feeling of even sensible joy in our sufferings, but that joy does not come from the flesh though it is in the flesh. It flows from our superior powers, so completely filled with the divine joy of the Holy Ghost, that it spreads to our lower powers. Thus a person who is undergoing the most unbearable torture is able to say: “My heart and my flesh have rejoiced in the living God” (Ps. 83,3).

52. There is another love for the Cross which I call rational, since it springs from the higher part of man, his reason. This love is wholly spiritual. Since it arises from the knowledge of the happiness there is in suffering for God, it can be and really is perceived by the soul. It also gives the soul inward strength and joy. Though this rational and perceptible joy is beneficial, even very beneficial, it is not an indispensable part of joyous, divine suffering.

53. This is why there is another love, which the masters of the spiritual life call the love of the summit and highest point of the soul and which the philosophers call the love of the intellect. When we possess this love, even though we experience no sensible joy or rational pleasure, we love and relish, in the light of pure faith, the cross we must bear, even though the lower part of our nature may often be in a state of warfare and alarm and may moan and groan, weep and sigh for relief; and thus we repeat with Jesus Christ: “Father . . . not My will but Thine be done” (Luke 22,42), or with the Blessed Virgin: “Behold the handmaid of the Lord, be it done to me according to Thy word” (Luke 1,38).

It is with one of these two higher loves that we should accept and love our cross.

54. Tenth. Be resolved then, dear Friends of the Cross, to suffer every kind of cross without excepting or choosing any: all poverty, all injustice, all temporal loss, all illness, all humiliation, all contradiction, all calumny, all spiritual dryness, all desolation, all interior and exterior trials. Keep saying: “My heart is ready, O God, my heart isready” (Ps. 56,8). Be ready to be forsaken by men and angels and, seemingly, by God Himself. Be ready to be persecuted; envied, betrayed, calumniated, discredited and forsaken by everyone. Be ready to undergo hunger, thirst, poverty, nakedness, exile, imprisonment, the gallows and all kinds of torture, even though you are innocent of everything with which you may be charged. What if you were cast out of your own home like Job and Saint Elizabeth of Hungary; thrown, like this saint, into the mire; or dragged upon a manure pile like Job, malodorous and covered with ulcers, without anyone to bandage your wounds, without a morsel of bread, never refused to a horse or a dog? Add to these dreadful misfortunes all the temptations with which God allows the devil to prey upon you, without pouring into your soul the least feeling of consolation.

Firmly believe that this is the summit of divine glory and real happiness for a true, perfect Friend of the Cross. 55. Eleven. For proper suffering, form the pious habit of considering four things:

First, the Eye of God. God is like a great king, who from the height of a tower observes with satisfaction his soldier in the midst of the battle and praises his valor. What is it on earth that attracts God’s attention? Kings and emperors on their thrones? He often looks at them with nothing but contempt. Brilliant victories of a nation’s armies, precious stones, any such things that are great in the sight of men? “What is great to men is an abomination before God” (Luke 16,15). What then does God look upon with pleasure and delight? What is He asking the Angels about, and even the devils? It is about the man who is fighting for Him against riches, against the world, hell and himself, the man who is cheerfully carrying his cross. Hast thou not seen upon earth that great wonder which the heavens consider with admiration? said the Lord to Satan; “hast thou considered My servant Job” (Job 2,3) who is suffering for Me?

56. Second, the Hand of God, Every disorder in nature, from the greatest to the smallest, is the work of His almighty Hand. The Hand that devastates an army of a hundred thousand (2 Kings 19,35) will make a leaf drop from a tree and a hair fall from your head (Luke 2 1,18). The Hand that was laid so heavily upon Job is particularly light when it touches you with some little trial. This Hand fashions day and night, sun and darkness, good and evil. God permits the sin which provokes you; He is not the cause of its malice, although He does allow the act.

If anyone, then, treats you as Semei treated King David (2 Kings 16,5–11), loading you with insults and casting stones at you, say to yourself: “I must not mind; I must not take revenge for this is an ordinance of God. I know that I have deserved every abuse and it is only right that God punish me. Desist, my hands, and strike not; desist, my tongue, and speak not; the person who injures me by word or deed is an ambassador, mercifully sent by God to punish me as His love alone knows how. Let us not incur His justice by assuming His right to vengeance. Let us not despise His mercy by resisting the affectionate strokes of His lash, lest, for His vengeance, He should remand us to the rigorous justice of eternity.”

Consider how God bears you up with one Hand, of infinite power and wisdom, while with the other He chastises you. With the one He deals out death, while with the other He dispenses life. He humbles you and raises you up. With both arms, He reaches sweetly and mightily (Wisdom 8,1) from the beginning of your life to its end. Sweetly: by not allowing you to be tempted or afflicted beyond your strength. Mightily: by favoring you with a powerful grace, proportioned to the vehemence and duration of your temptation or affliction. Mightily:-and the spirit of His holy Church bears witness-”He is your stay on the brink of a precipice, your guide along a misleading road, your shade in the scorching heat, your raiment in the pouring rain or the biting cold. He is your conveyance when you are utterly exhausted, your help in adversity, your staff on the slippery way. He is your port of refuge when, in the throes of a tempest, you are threatened with ruin and shipwreck.”

57. Third, consider the Wounds and Sorrows of our crucified Jesus. Hear what He Himself has to say:”All ye that pass along the thorny and crucifying way I had to follow, look and see. Look with the eyes of your body; look with the eye of contemplation, and see if your poverty, nakedness, disgrace, sorrow, desolation are like unto Mine. Behold Me, innocent as I am, then will you complain, you who are guilty” (Lam. 1,12).

The Holy Ghost tells us, by the mouth of the Apostles, that we should keep our eyes on Jesus Crucified (Gal. 3,1) and arm ourselves with this thought of Him (1 Pet. 4,1) which is our most powerful and most penetrating weapon against all our enemies. When you are assailed by poverty, disrepute, sorrow, temptation or any other cross, arm yourselves with this shield, this breastplate, this helmet, this two-edged sword (Eph. 6,12–18), that is, with the thought of Jesus crucified. There is the solution to your every problem, the means you have to vanquish all your enemies.

58. Fourth, lift up your eyes, behold the beautiful crown that awaits you in Heaven if you carry your cross as you should. That was the reward which kept patriarchs and prophets strong in faith under persecution. It gave heart to the Apostles and martyrs in their labors and torments. Patriarchs used to say as Moses had said: “We would rather be afflicted with the people of God,” so as to enjoy eternal happiness with Him, “than to have the pleasure of sin for a afflicted with the people of God,” so as to enjoy eternal happiness with Him, “than to have the pleasure of sin for a 26). The prophets repeated David’s words: “We suffer great persecutions on account of the reward” (Ps. 63,8; 118,112). The Apostles and martyrs voiced the sentiments of St. Paul: “We are, as it were, men appointed to death: we are made a spectacle to the world, and to angels, and to men,” by our sufferings “being made the offscouring of the world,” (1 Cor. 4,9–13), “by reason of the exceeding and eternal weight of glory, which this momentary and light tribulation worketh in us” (2 Cor. 4,17).

Let us see and listen to the angels right above us: “Be careful not to forfeit the crown that is set aside for you if you bravely bear the cross that is given you. If you do not bear it well, someone will bear it in your stead and will take your crown. All the saints warn us: fight courageously, suffer patiently and you will be given an everlasting kingdom.” Let us hear Jesus: “To him only will I give My reward who shall suffer and overcome through patience” (Apoc. 2,6; 11,17; 3,5; 21,7).

Let us lower our eyes and see the place we deserve, the place that awaits us in hell in the company of the wicked thief and the reprobate, if we go through suffering as they did, resentful and bent on revenge. Let us exclaim after St. Augustine; “Burn. O Lord, cut, carve, divide in this world, in punishment for my sins, provided Thou pardon them in eternity.”

59. Twelfth. Never murmur or deliberately complain about any created thing that God may use to afflict you. It is important to note the three kinds of complaints that may arise when misfortune assails you. The first is natural and involuntary. This happens when the human body moans and groans, sobs and sighs and weeps. If, as I said, the higher point of the soul submits to the will of God, there is no sin. The second is rational. Such is the case when we complain and disclose our hardship to some superior or physician who is able to remedy it. This complaint may be an imperfection, if too eagerly made, but it is no sin. The third is sinful. This happens when a person complains of others either to rid himself of the suffering they cause him, or to take revenge. Or else when he wilfully complains about the sorrow he must bear and shows signs of grief and impatience.

60. Thirteenth. Whenever you are given a cross, be sure to embrace it with humility and gratitude. If God, in His infinite goodness, favors you with a cross of some importance, be sure to thank him in a special way and have others join you in thanking him. Do as that poor woman did who, through an unjust lawsuit, lost everything she owned. She immediately offered the last few pennies she had, to have a Mass said in thanksgiving to Almighty God for the good fortune that had come to her.

61. Fourteenth. If you wish to be worthy of the best crosses, those that are not of your choice, then, with the help of a prudent director, take on some that are voluntary.

Suppose you have a piece of furniture that you do not need but prize. Give it to some poor person, and say to yourself: “Why should I have things I do not need, when Jesus is destitute?”

Do you dislike certain kinds of food, the practice of some particular virtue, or some offensive odor? Taste this food, practice this virtue, endure this odor, conquer yourself.

Is your affection for some person or thing too ardent and tender? Keep away, deprive yourself, break away from things that appeal to you.

Have you that natural tendency to see and be seen, to be doing things or going some place? Mind your eyes and hold your tongue, stop right where you are and keep to yourself.

Do you feel a natural aversion to some person or thing? Rise above self by keeping near them.

62. If you are truly Friends of the Cross, then, without your knowing it, love, which is always ingenious, will discover thousands of little crosses to enrich you. Then you need not fear self-conceit which often accompanies the patient endurance of conspicuous crosses and since you have been faithful in a few things, the Lord will keep His promise and set you over many things (Matt. 25,21,23): over many graces He will grant you; over many crosses He will send you; over much glory He will prepare for you. . . . .

Imprimi Potest:

S. Laurentii ad Separim die 3a Maii, 1950.

A. JOSSELIN, S.M.M.,

Superior General.

Nihil Obstat:

MARTINUS J. HEALY, S.T.D.,

Censor Librorum.

Imprimatur:

@ THOMAS EDMUNDUS MOLLOY, S.T.D.,

Episcopus Brooklyniensis.

Brooklynii, XX mensis Octobris 1950.

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Friendship

ST. FRANCIS DE SALES

INDEX

Among the passions, love holds first place: It is the king of the heart’s movements and it con verts everything to it, rendering the one who loves similar to the one loved. [Osee 9:10]. Be very careful, therefore, Dear reader, not to have any evil love, because you will in turn quickly become evil yourself.

Friendship is the most dangerous of all love. Why? Because other loves can exist without communication, exchange, closeness. But friendship is completely founded upon communication and exchange and cannot exist in practice without sharing in the qualities and defects of the friend loved.

Not all love is friendship:

First of all, because one can love without being loved. It may then be love, but not friendship. For friendship is mutual, reciprocal, and if it is not reciprocated, it is not friendship.

Secondly, because it is not enough that it be reciprocal; it is also essential that those who love each other recognize their mutual love. If they are unaware of it, it is not friendship.

Thirdly, because in friendship there must exist some kind of exchange or communication, for such is the foundation of friendship.

Friendship differs according to the different kinds of communication, and the communications differ according to the variety of goods exchanged. If these are false goods, then the friendship is false. Honey gathered from the best flowers is the best. So too, the better the goods exchanged, the better the friendship. It is said that the honey of Heraclea, gathered from aconite, which is very abundant in that region, renders mad those who eat it. So too, friendship founded on the exchange of false and vicious goods is itself completely false and vicious.

The exchange of carnal delights ought not to be called friendship in human relations any more than it would be called such in donkeys or horses. If marriage implied only this kind of exchange, it would no longer deserve to be called friendship. In addition to this there must be a communication of life, of work, of feelings, and finally an indissoluble fidelity. With these dimensions the friendship of marriage is a true and holy friendship.

Friendship founded on the exchange of sensual pleasures is gross and unworthy of the name of friendship, and so too is that based on vain and frivolous qualities, since these also depend on the senses.

I call sensual pleasures those which are attached directly and principally to the five senses: the pleasure of seeing beauty, of hearing a sweet voice, of touching pleasant things . . .

I term frivolous qualities those capacities, innate or acquired, which superficial people call “virtues” or “perfections.” Just listen to young people; they do not hesitate to conclude that a person has great qualities simply because he dances well, dresses well, sings well, chats pleasantly, has a fine appearance or is skilled in all kinds of games. Do not charlatans consider the biggest clowns to be the most accomplished people in their group?

Since all this relates only to the level of the senses, we can qualify as sensual those friendships based on such. They really deserve to be called amusements rather than friendships. Such are ordinarily the friendships among young people, stopping as they often do at such things as moustaches, hair, glances, clothing, attractiveness, small talk.—friendships worthy of that age whose virtue is still only downy and whose judgment is just in the bud: friendships which are but fleeting, melting like snow in the sun.

FLIRTATIONS

When these frivolous friendships are practiced between persons of different sex-without intention of marriage- we call them passing fancies or flirtations. Being only abortive births or appearances of friendship, they are unable- by reason of their futility and their imperfection-to bear either the name of friendship or that of love. However, they preoccupy hearts, which are as it were entangled, “intertwined,” by vain and foolish affections founded upon those frivolous communications and those meager amusements that we have just mentioned.

And even though it may not be the primary intention of those who give themselves to them—because then they would no longer be flirtations but manifest impurities-these stupid loves usually end up by sinking into very ugly carnal pleasures.

Sometimes several years go by without those who are attacked by this folly doing anything which is directly contrary to bodily chastity; they are content with taking pleasure in these desires, these wishes, these sighs and other such nonsense, and this upon various pretenses.

What, then, are they seeking who yield to these vain pastimes? Some have no other design than to satiate their need to love and be loved. They do not truly choose their friends, and when they encounter someone attractive, they are guided solely by their preference and their instinct, without carefully examining the heart and conduct of those they find attractive. They become entangled in nets from which they have great difficulty escaping.

Some others yield to vanity and think it is no small glory to bind many hearts by love. Therefore, they act for such glory, setting their trap and spinning their web in beautiful, exalted and extraordinary places.

Finally, others are driven simultaneously by their amorous inclination and by their vanity. Since their heart is prone to love, they intend to derive some advantage from it.

All these friendships are evil, foolish and illusory:

1) Evil because they end up in sin of the flesh and because they steal the love- and consequently the heart-from God and from the husband, the wife, to whom it is owed;

2) Foolish because they have neither foundation nor reason;

3) Illusory because they bring neither profit nor happiness nor satisfaction.

On the contrary, they cause a waste of time and compromise honor without bringing any satisfaction other than the torment of seeking and hoping, without knowing exactly what they are seeking and hoping for! Those unfortunate people who succumb to this think that there is always “something more” to be desired in the protestations of love from others, without, however, knowing what this “something more” is. Their desire is therefore endless and it keeps mistrust, jealousy and unrest alive in their hearts.

St. Gregory of Nazianzus wrote this marvelous paragraph on the subject of frivolous women (it can be applied to men just as well):

O woman, your beauty belongs to your husband; if it is for other men, like a net spread over a flock of birds, what will become of it? You are pleased by someone because he finds you beautiful. You will return him glance for glance. Smiles and careless little words of love follow. At the beginning they are on the sly. Familiarities come next, and finally open flirtations.—I prefer not to say what will happen next . . . I shall say, however, that all this is not without danger!

You have a game here in which the one who plans to capture gets captured. As soon as our hearts see a soul inflamed with love for them, they are presently inflamed with love for it. You think you can stop at any time. In this you are greatly mistaken. Love’s fire is more ardent and more penetrating than you imagine. You think you have received only a spark and are totally astonished to discover that in an instant your whole heart is inflamed, your resolutions are reduced to cinders and your reputation is in smoke.

Who pities a snake charmer bitten by a snake that he hoped to train? [Ecclus. 12:13]. Senseless ones! Did you think you could charm love and manipulate it according to your taste? You only wanted to play with it, but it has bitten you cruelly. Do you know what people will do? They will mock and laugh at you because you relied on a false assurance and put inside your heart a dangerous serpent which has made you lose both your soul and your honour.

Is there any blindness greater than that which leads us to wager the best part of our soul on such frivolous pledges? Yes, Dear reader, I say the best part, because God wants us only for our soul, and the soul only for the will, and the will only for love.

We are already all too poor in love. By that I mean that we must have a great deal of it in order to love God as He ought to be loved; and yet, totally poor as we are, we waste it on frivolities as if we had too much of it! This great God who created, preserved and redeemed us has the right to all our love and all our gratitude, and He will demand an accounting of our foolish expenses. If we are to be judged for every useless word, how much more severely will we be judged for all these useless, improper, foolish and pernicious friendships?

It is said that the walnut tree does immense harm to the field in which it is planted. Because of its size it absorbs all the nutrients from the earth, leaving insufficient nourishment for other plants. Because its foliage is so dense, it gives too much shadow to the surrounding cultivation. Finally, its fruits (walnuts) attract many passersby, who thereby tread the soil all around it, ruining whatever is growing there.

These petty loves cause the same harm to the soul:

On the one hand, they so monopolize it that it has no more strength for the good;

On the other hand, they drag it through so many conversations, amusements and frivolities that they leave it no time for useful activities; Finally, they attract so many distractions, temptations and suspicions to it that it is completely trampled and ruined. In brief, along with the love of God, these follies kill even the fear of displeasing Him. They agitate the mind and tarnish the reputation. In a word, they are the amusement of the world but the pestilence of hearts.

TRUE FRIENDSHIPS

Love your neighbor, Dear reader, with a great, charitable love, but befriend only those with whom you can be mutually supportive in virtue. The higher the virtues that you put into these relationships, the more perfect will your friendship be.

If your mutual exchanges deal with knowledge, your friendship is certainly very laudable; it will be even better if they deal with the moral virtues such as prudence, discretion, strength, justice [cf. Wis. 3:7–8; Prov.8:14]; but if they pertain to charity, the love of God, Christian perfection, then this friendship is truly precious and excellent: excellent because it comes from God, excellent because it tends toward God, excellent because its bond is God, excellent because it will endure eternally in God. Oh, how good it is to be loved on earth the way one is loved in Heaven, and to learn to cherish each other in this world as we shall do eternally in the other!

I am not speaking of the simple love of charity which is due to all; I am speaking of spiritual friendship by which two or more only one soul. With what excellent reason they can say: “How good and how pleasant it is for brethren to dwell together in unity.” [Ps. 132(133):1]. It seems to me that all other friendships are but phantoms in comparison with this one, and their bonds are iron chains in comparison with this great bond of Divine love, which is pure gold. God, moreover, will eternally bless such friendships.

Do not form any other kind of friendship. I am speaking here only of those friendships which you form yourself, because you must neither abandon nor despise those which nature or your previous obligations require you to cultivate: relatives, allies, benefactors, neighbors . . .

You will perhaps be told not to have any particular friendship, because it preoccupies the heart, distracts the mind and causes jealousy. They are mistaken who say this. Because they have read in the writings of the Saints that this kind of friendship is harmful for religious, they think that it is also harmful for people living in the midst of the world. I must, therefore, make some clarifications for you on this matter.

In a well-regulated monastery, perfection in the love of God is the common goal, that toward which all are supposed to tend; it is not necessary, therefore, to speak of it with a particular friend, lest by seeking in particular what ought to be sought in common, one pass from particulars to preferences and divisions.

But for those who live in the midst of the world and yet strive for true virtue, it is necessary to ally themselves to one another by a holy and sacred friendship through which they stimulate, assist and encourage each other toward good.

Those who walk on level ground do not need to hold hands, but those who climb steep and slippery roads need to hold on to each other in order to progress more securely.

Religious have no need of particular friendships, but those living in the world need them as a mutual strength and aid in the many difficult passages that have to be crossed.

Not everyone in the world aspires to the same goal; not all have the same spirit; it is therefore sometimes necessary to step aside and form friendships according to where one is heading. Assuredly, these are instances of preference, but of a holy preference which makes no division except that which is necessary; that is, between good and evil, sheep and goats, bees and hornets.

Since the Gospel says it [John 13:23], no one will deny that Our Lord manifested a particular friendship for St. John, Lazarus, Mary Magdalen. It is known that St. Peter loved St. Mark and St. Petronilla tenderly; St. Paul loved Timothy and Thecla; St. Gregory of Nazianzus speaks on many occasions of his friendship with St. Basil: “it seemed,” he said, “that we had but one soul, one ambition, that of practicing virtue and of making all our projects tend toward Heaven.” St. Ambrose loved St. Monica for her exceptional virtues, and she cherished him as an angel of the Lord.

But I am wrong to make you waste your time on such self-evident things: Friendship is a virtue, and the greatest saints have had friends without harm to their advancement along the road of perfection. Perfection does not consist in abstaining from friendships, but in having only those that are good and holy.

FRIENDSHIPS: TRUE AND FALSE

This is an important warning, Dear reader. Honey from Heraclea, though very poisonous, greatly resembles honey which is very healthy for us. Obviously, there is great danger in mistaking one for the other, or of eating them together. The healthy one does not neutralize the poisonous one. Since Satan often tricks those who love, we must be on our guard not to make a mistake relative to friendship. This is especially true for friendships with the opposite sex.

One may begin with love altogether virtuous. But if one is not very prudent, flirtatious love can get mixed in it, then sensual love, and finally carnal love. Yes, this danger exists even in spiritual love, even though this love is not so easily deluded because its purity brings to light, in a more evident fashion, impurities which might otherwise slip past it. For this reason, when Satan tries to corrupt this love, he does it more insidiously, almost insensibly.

Worldly friendship is distinguished from holy and virtuous friendship in the same way that poisonous honey is distinguished from good honey. It is said that poisonous honey is sweeter because of the aconite from which it comes. So too, worldly friendship shows itself in its use of sugary, passionate words, in praise for beauty, grace and sensual qualities. Holy friendship, on the other hand, shows itself in its use of simple and frank language; it praises only virtue and the grace of God, its unique foundation.

Poisonous honey causes dizziness. False friend-ship causes a spiritual dizziness of the mind in which one staggers along the road of chastity and God’s love. It increases by immodest looks, sensual caresses, sighs, reproaches, an affected walk, gallantries and other familiarities. Such are sure warnings of an approaching ruin to chastity. Holy friendship, on the contrary, is simple and modest; its manifestations are pure and frank; it only sighs for Heaven, and its only complaint is that God is not loved enough.

Just as poisoned honey blurs the sight, worldly friendship blurs judgment, in that those involved in it actually believe they are doing good when they are doing something wrong; they imagine that their pretexts and explanations are truly valid. They fear the light and are content to remain in the dark. Holy friendship is just the opposite. It is clearsighted, has nothing to hide and is happy to be seen by others in the full light of day.

Finally, Heraclean honey, though at first sweet, leaves a bitter taste in the mouth. So too with false friendships. They always change into indecent conversations and carnal demands. In case of rejection, they result in injuries, calumnies, deceptions, sadness, jealousies, often ending in violence. Chaste friendship is always honorable, courteous, kind; it tends only toward a union of spirits, a union that is ever more pure and more perfect, the living image of the friendship which is practiced in Heaven.

The peacock spreads his feathers and struts about so as to excite watching peahens. It is the same when a man who has no intention of lawful marriage parades himself about, wears attractive clothing and comes to whisper in a woman’s ear. His only intention is to incite her to evil. A woman of honor will refuse to listen to the peacock’s cry, woman’s ear. His only intention is to incite her to evil. A woman of honor will refuse to listen to the peacock’s cry, 6]. If she does listen, it augurs poorly for her heart’s future.

If young persons do not wish to be surprised by their parents, spouse or confessor when employing certain words, caresses or glances, this testifies that these acts are contrary to honor and conscience.

REMEDIES FOR EVIL FRIENDSHIPS

You will no doubt ask me the remedy for these impure loves.

As soon as you sense the attack, however light it may be, be careful not to compromise with the enemy in any way.

Do not say: “I shall listen to him but not yield to him; I shall lend him my ear but refuse my heart.” No! Quickly turn away from him, toward theSaviour’s Cross, and make it your rampart and your protection.

For the love of God, Dear reader, be unyielding on this point! The heart and the ear talk to one another, and so it is as impossible to keep words of love heard in the ear from descending to the heart as it is to stop a flooding torrent. Therefore, take care to close your ears to the music of these foolish words, or your heart will be quickly contaminated by them. Listen to no proposition, under any pretext whatever; only thus will there be no need to fear being uncivil.

Remember that you have given your heart to God. Once offered to Him, it would be a sacrilege to take away a single fiber. Rather, offer it to Him anew and, like a deer in its covert, call upon God. He will come to your assistance, and His love will take yours under its protection, enabling you to live solely for Him.

If you are already caught in the nets of these poor loves, it will be very difficult to extricate yourself. Place yourself in the presence of God and acknowledge your great misery, your weakness, your futility. With the greatest effort your heart is capable of, detest these loves that you have entered into. Renounce the promises made or received, and resolve with a great and absolute will no more to take part in these games and deeds of love.

I hope that you will be able to distance yourself from the object of this false love, because, once bitten by love, one will hardly be cured so long as the person who has suffered the same attack remains close. Distance is a great help for lessening the torments and the ardors of both sadness and love.

St. Ambrose recounts how, after a long voyage, a young man returned completely cured of his past follies. He was so transformed that when he met the woman he had loved, he did not recognize her. “What?” she asked him. “You do not know me? I am the same” “Yes,” he replied, “but I am no longer the same!” Absence had sufficed to bring about this happy transformation. St. Augustine admitted that in order to lessen his sadness at the death of a very dear friend, he left the city in which his friend had died and returned to Carthage.

What can one do who is unable to get this distance? He must absolutely cut off all one-on-one conversations, all secret meetings, all glances and smiles-in short, all that is likely to feed this evil flame. And if he must speak to his accomplice, let this be only to inform him, briefly and very firmly, of the eternal separation he has sworn. I say forcefully to all those who have fallen into this trap: cut it short; have done with it; break it off! Do not untie the knots; cut them so as to render them useless. You must be unsparing when it is a question of a love which is so contrary to the love of God.

Perhaps you fear that, once the chains of this enslavement are broken, there will still linger some marks on your heart. That will not be, Dear reader. If you hate the evil as much as it deserves, you will not experience any sentiment other than a great repulsion for these loves and for anything associated with them. As for the person himself, the only affection will be that of a very pure charity for the love of God.

But if your repentance is imperfect and some evil inclinations still linger, retire to the solitude of your soul and renounce them with all your strength. Often repeat the resolutions you have made; read holy books more assiduously; go to Confession and Communion more often; confide humbly in your spiritual director, or, lacking one, in some prudent and trustworthy person. Be assured that God will free you from your passion if you are faithful to this advice.

Perhaps you will suggest that it is ungrateful to break off a friendship so ruthlessly. If this is ingratitude, Dear reader, what a blessed ingratitude. For it renders you so pleasing to God! But be assured that this is in no way ingratitude because, by breaking your own bonds, you break those of your friend as well, since you hold them in common. Even though he may perhaps suffer at the moment, he will soon recognize his blessedness and give thanks to God with you.

MORE ADVICE ON FRIENDSHIPS

Friendship demands a great communication between friends; this is the first condition for its birth and its continuance. It often happens that with the exchange of friendship, other exchanges slip unnoticed from one heart to another. The greater the esteem between friends, the greater is their openness of heart and the sharing of feelings or impressions, good or bad.

The bees of Hirable, which make that honey about which I have already spoken, only want to make honey. Nonetheless, while gathering, they inadvertently take in the poisonous properties of the aconite upon which they do their gathering. The ancients used to say: “Be good money. changers and good minters”; i.e., do not receive false money with the good, nor coarse gold with fine gold; separate what is precious from what is mediocre. [Cf. Jer. 15:19]. And know that no one exists who does not have some imperfection

Why, then, should we inadvertently receive our friend’s imperfections and defects along with his friendship? We ought to love him, certainly, in spite of his imperfection. But, since true friendship Supposes the sharing of the good and not the bad, we ought neither to love nor to accept his imperfections. It is the same for those who pan for gold in the riverbed. They allow the sand to pass through, rejecting it in order to carry off only gold. Those who share a good friendship ought to reject the sand of imperfections and not permit it to penetrate their soul.

St. Gregory of Nazianzus tells how St. Basil’s friends loved and admired him so much that they imitated him in everything, including his exterior eccentricities. They copied his slow speech, his distracted air, and even the shape of his beard and his manner of walking! Do we not know of husbands, wives, children and friends who love and esteem each other so much that through imitation or a giving in, they ultimately acquire the same defects?

This ought not to happen. Everyone has enough to handle with his own faults without taking on those of others as well! Not only is this not required of friendship, but friendship actually obliges us to help each other to be freed of every imperfection. We must, therefore, patiently and gently bear with our friend’s imperfections, but not encourage them, much less adopt them.

I am speaking only of imperfections, because if there is a question of sin we must neither encourage nor tolerate. It is the mark of a feeble and warped friendship to see a friend perishing without helping him, or to watch him suffer from an abscess without attempting to lance it with a reprimand that would save him.

True and vibrant friendship cannot subsist in sin. Just as it is said that the salamander extinguishes the fire it lies on, so sin ruins the friendship in which it is lodged. If it is only a passing sin, a friendly warning will dispel it. If, however, it stops there and remains, friendship will perish immediately, for it lives only on true virtue.

How much less, then, should we commit sin for the sake of friendship! The friend who urges us to sin and thus wishes our ruin becomes an enemy, no longer deserving of our friendship: one of the surest marks of the falseness of a friendship is that it is bestowed upon a vicious person. If the one we love is vicious, then our friendship can only be vicious, because, since its foundation is not true virtue, it is necessarily based on some frivolous or sensual quality.

I add that the agreements made between merchants for a temporal profit are only a caricature of friendship. They are made only through love of gain and not through love of persons.

Here then, Dear reader, are two quotes from Holy Scripture which will help you advance with safety along the way of the Christian life. One is from Ecclesiasticus: “He who fears God shall likewise have good friendship” [Ecclus. 6:17]; the other is from St. James:.” .—know you not that the friendship of this world is the enemy of God?” [Jas. 4:4].

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FOREWORD

By way of Foreword to this third (and to the best of my knowledge, for want of any more material, the last) series of Words of Encouragement,I would quote, as typical of the spirit of Father Considine’s direction, this passage from one of his letters My advice regarding your whole spiritual life now would be-less of self-examination and even of selfreproach, more, of direct looking to God, and constant acts of thanksgiving to Him. Never forget that love is not only the best way of uniting ourselves with God, but also the best form of expiation for our past sins and negligences. The surest and easiest method of obtaining sorrow for our transgressions is to fix our glance on Our Lord and understand how loving and lovable He is in Himself and how much He has done and suffered for us. Turn your eyes away from yourself, even for self-condemnation, as much as you can. Of course, sorrow for the past is good, but not to dwell upon, but to lead us further on to know and love better Him whom we have offended.” “He guided me much,” wrote Cardinal Vaughan of Father Considine, “in the work of intercourse with God, and in generosity and liberty of spirit.”

The very great appreciation shown throughout the whole English-speaking world for Words of Encouragement and More Words of Encouragement, and their translation into foreign languages, is surely an eloquent testimony to the permanent power of the simple teaching of this holy priest in liberating from vain fears, stimulating to generosity; and leading to more direct intercourse with God, those who put themselves, humbly and simply, under his guidance.

May these Further Words of Encouragement fulfil the same high function to the greater glory of God! F.C.D.

Further Words of Encouragement

BY REV. D. CONSIDINE, S. J

INDEX

GENTLENESS

IF I were asked what was the characteristic virtue of Our Lord during His Life and Passion, I should venture to suggest the virtue of gentleness.

Not a want of proper spirit. There are some who, from mere disinclination to exert themselves, would rather give way than quarrel; with others it is a matter of politeness. Real gentleness is only possible when there is a good deal of strength. It is a holding of oneself back, with a great reserve of power. An orator, a poet, or painter just moves us in proportion as we feel that there is a great deal more at the back than he might have given us had he chosen. It is a point of weakness to come to the end of our tether.

Our Lord’s gentleness was always the same in all circumstances. God-Made-Man: should we ever have thought of gentleness as the special characteristic of His life?

If we want to draw near to God, it will not be by sublime thoughts, nor by outward power, but by the force of gentleness. How very few are really gentle! They are placid, or languid, or they, have no strong views; but that kind of gentleness doesn’t command much respect. But if you meet one who is never cruel, never exacting-this means wonderful mortifications wonderful unselfishness. Our part in life towards others is mercy. A really gentle person never passes a harsh judgement, looks upon all gently, makes allowances and excuses for all. The compassion of Jesus was so infinite, His attitude so different from ours. If we could only find ourselves listening to Him as He related one of His parables, and then on a sudden be transported to an ordinary drawing-room, what a difference should we notice in the tone of the conversation: He looked so differently on the world, If we want to serve God with any perfection, we must be gentle. Certain defects are more abhorrent to God than others, and one is the want of charity. Defective charity is very common, and if we will keep up a grudge, so long we cannot draw near to God. It is a question of point of view, how we look at things. Whatever happens, I must be gentle: gentle in thoughts, in words, in deeds. Some people always take the gentle side, some always the hard. Are we “hanging judges” or “lenient judges”? Let us test ourselves. Why don’t we be honest, and desire to be better? Take this small matter, and see if we can’t become noticeable for our gentleness. If our thoughts are gentle, our words will be so too. At the close of a day let us ask ourselves, has my judgement of others been kind and merciful? Am I always ready to pass judgement and condemn others either in public or private matters? What is my habitual attitude of mind?

We have not gentle thoughts even of God: we are unfair in our judgement of God. Instead, of thinking of God as the most loving and tender Father, we think of Him as unfair to us. “I am discontented with God, I think He behaves better to others than to me. I don’t understand why I am not inundated with consolations.” I don’t put it into words, but that is really my thought of God.

Gentleness means patience. An ungentle person is always cocksure someone is to blame. A mistress may have to correct her servant, but there must be gentleness even in a severe correction.

When Our Lord enters your breast in Holy Communion, what characteristic does He wish to find? . . . If you wish to share in His infinite power of winning others, do so by making yourself as gentle as ever you can.

DIFFIDENCE

The only reason we are not saints is because we don’t give God the facility for making us so. We say, “I should consider it presumption on my part to want to love God any better than I do.” He wants us all to be saints. There is no such thing as an incurable disease of the soul. Ask to be healed, but ask wholeheartedly, and believing in God’s desire to cure you. If you don’t believe He will help you fully, He won’t help you fully.

You and I could do immensely better than we do, if only we had more faith and hope. There were such stores of grace waiting for us, and we never put out~ our hands to take them. God would have us be as impatient as possible to get the better of our faults. Can we believe that God will turn aside and take no notice of us when we cry out to Him to help us to be better? If I do want to get near to God, I can. It is possible to be humble; to be generous, to be courageous, to be mortified, to have a great love for His Sacred Heart and His Holy Mother. It is true that God does love me. If God brings that home to you, take that one thing, and work on that.

God does not distribute His graces to all alike: each one of us has a different personality and we show our own affection to one another in different ways. So with God. He does not expect the same signs of affection from each of us. But He wants me to love Him and serve Him, according to the nature He has given me: in my way, aided by His grace.

WANT OF MAGNANIMITY

Narrowness of conscience, over-sensitiveness with God, want of expansiveness, want of practical belief in His love: these are the faults of God’s friends. To be always thinking of God’s judgements, and that He is coming down upon me- is this a disposition befitting a child of God? How can we do much if we are always thinking of God as a hard master, letting us out as it were on a ticket of leave? You make it impossible to do heroic things for God when you have such unworthy thoughts of Him: and then comes the feeling, my service is not acceptable; God is behaving badly towards me.

Our hearts are the size of a gooseberry, where God is concerned. We want a big heart, which. He is only too ready to give.

But there is something that stops us. If you don’t get rid of this big stone in the way, you’ll never get far forward. Don’t think anything hopeless: there is no spiritual disease without a remedy. We sometimes expect too much of ourselves-sometimes too little. We are apt to lose heart on looking back to our former efforts and the resolutions we made. This desolation pf mind belongs to persons who expect too much. What God likes us to say is that we are very grateful that we have made a step in advance; He will then take us up and plant us a mile further on. Some, if they have not done everything, think they have done nothing. Checking the tongue, checking conceit-don’t let us ever tire of thanking God for helping us in what seem small matters.

Remember, too, that time is of no consequence; intensity is what matters. In one second we can make an act of contrition better than if we have been six weeks about it. Anything encouraging in the spiritual life is an immense help. Many might be heroic if they would only believe God is calling them to higher things. As long as we feel that we are going to get better, we do get better.

SELF-EXAMINATION

It is very difficult to hit the correct mean between too much and too little. There are persons who lead their lives in a happy-go-lucky sort of way they object to what they call a rule of thumb, or to anything introducing order. “Don’t pester us,” they say, “with all your spiritual meditations and nostrums, teaching us to be always watching, like children sowing seeds and digging them up to see how they are going on.

In others there is too great a tendency to introspection, and there is a danger of becoming too fond of investigation.

It is a great thing to have elasticity in our spiritual life-a liberty of spirit.

It. is not a good thing not to see God’s finger in little providences. In one way there are no such things as sacred and profane. The Holy Ghost does speak directly to souls more than they think. Our spiritual life is advancing even when we are not concerned with spiritual things at all. It is not a good thing to divide up one’s life, so much time for God, so much for the world; we should bring God into everything. . . . A saint doesn’t differ from a sinner by having a hundred ways of praying; one thought will occupy a saint a very long time. . . . God can give us inspirations in a ballroom: people get such inspirations in most unlikely places. I don’t mean to depreciate our use of means-only to encourage you. We can’t believe too much in God’s following us everywhere. Let’s get help always; some people seem to fancy we can only have certain times of audience with God.

For scrupulous persons it is not good to be always poking about in the gutter of their souls; to them I say the less you think the better. But for ordinary people, it is a good thing to have a general notion of our spiritual countenance. It is not good to be in a fog. Am I humble? I don’t know. Have I uncharitable thoughts? I don’t know. These matters belong to the interior operations of grace. Really spiritual people have very just and right notions about themselves, though with a tendency tofind fault with themselves, and sometimes they’ll say they were guilty when they were not. They are honestly humble.

DISTRACTIONS IN PRAYER

Are they wrong? Is there any sin in them?

Generally, they are due to physical causes, or to cares and bothers for which they who suffer from them are not responsible. Is God so unfair as to expect us to keep our thoughts fixed on Him when He does not give us the power? He looks at our hearts, and when a person comes, wishing to please Him, He makes little account of our imperfections. If I really love Him, what does He care? It is a waste of time to bewail things in which there is no sin. Our minds are human instruments, and follow the same laws, in things human or divine. Try and see what the things are that so absorb us: If you find these distractions run along the same lines, go into them, examine them. Why cannot I keep my mind off that subject? that person? that grievance? Pluck on to the root. Having found the cause, take it in hand. If we had only one-tenth of the prudence in spiritual things that we have in temporal, how differently we should act! But there is no use in getting flurried about it. We must be prepared to feel very foolish, and to trip time after time. Don’t let us be shocked at ourselves; we are very wretched creatures, but when God holds the lamp to our faults and imperfections, He means us to correct them. When God tells us to remedy a thing, we can remedy it.

The troubles of life are another occasion of distractions. Our Lord says: Don’t be worried about tomorrow. All worry is needless-is wrong. Feeling that we are very broken reeds to depend on, we get worried. If only we understood better that not a hair of our head falls without our Father knowing it. Not a toothache, not an attack of neuralgia, not a hard word said to us without our Father permitting it. We think that on our doing our best everything depends. We must do our best, but it is not on us that it all depends.St. Ignatius was so confident of God’s government of the world that even if the Society he had so laboured to establish had been swept away, he said it would not take him more than a quarter of an hour to get over it.

THE AGONY IN THE GARDEN

All meditations should have a bearing on our practice. The Passion of Our Lord is incomparably the most effective part of His life. The Agony in the Garden covers our troubles of mind as distinct from physical suffering. Very often suffering is worse in the anticipation than in reality. . . . Not a day of our lives ought to pass without Our Lord’s Passion helping us. When things go badly with us, uncertainty of the future, ingratitude, headaches, there is no method so quick to increase our love as at once to unite our pain with His. . . . Observe that Our Lord makes no change in His habits; though He knows that Judas will betray Him there, He goes, as His wont, to the Garden of Gethsemane. Learn from that not to run away from trials and troubles. Cast away one cross, you will find a heavier.

“He began to pray.” Feeling the near approach of His Passion, He betakes Himself to extra prayer: not a variety of prayers, only: “Let this Chalice pass from Me.” He was really human. The thought of the dreadful sorrow coming on Him absorbed Him. “And being in an agony, He prayed the more earnestly.” If we could be more in earnest, it would be a great blessing. If a matter touches us nearly, we can think of nothing else. Therefore, if any trouble threatens us, prayer is an excellent preparation. Go to God as soon as you are dreading anything, and pray as Our Lord did with His whole heart and soul-with tears of blood. We wonder God doesn’t give us things we have asked for for twenty years. Have we really asked for them? And with real importunate prayer?

The difficulty of bringing His human will to accept the suffering He saw before Him almost shattered His mortal frame. The early Christians tore this passage out of the Gospels for fear of the Jews being scandalized. But what a practical help it is to us. If you tiptoe through life, and avoid all that is bitter and hard, and beg to be saved from trial, maybe you’ll never understand what Our Lord’s Agony in the Garden was.

THOUGHTS ON HELL

God, if He had chosen, could have given us Heaven without our having worked for it. Meriting Heaven is an extra happiness-and the best for us. . . . If we behave badly, we deserve punishment. If we are to have freewill, it follows that while we can elect to love God, we can also refuse to do so.

Whatis Hell? The banishment from God’s company.

The pain of sense is the most likely to affect us, and frighten us away from sin. “Fire” is taken as the greatest form of pain. . . . A great help to us to have the motive of fear. How many things we keep away from because they bring us bodily discomfort! What thanks we owe to God for providing us with such a motive for avoiding sin!

We should be careful of the delusion that we are so confirmed in grace that the thought of hell is not necessary for us . . . The pain of loss should be a far greater deterrent than the pain of sense. Once we have parted from our body, the attractions of the world don’t exist. As a special key is made for the wards of a special lock, in a much truer sense does the soul belong to God. . . . He has given us a thirst He alone can satisfy.

Perfect health, absolute liberty, unbounded riches-these things are not enough: only God can fill the soul. Here we get distractions, but when once we quit this world, the craving for God is only short of infinite because we are finite creatures.

If it were possible to take the pains of hell into Heaven, and have God, they would be a laughing matter.

The contradiction in the soul in hell-a craving for God, and yet-it would be a greater suffering to carry into Heaven one unforgiven mortal sin than to stay in the depths of hell. The drawing to God-and the repulsion from Him! How can any soul remain in enmity with God! how can they cast themselves away! Nothing happens all at once. If I love a person one moment, I don’t hate him the next. St. Teresa said if she hadn’t corrected a certain venial fault she would have ended by falling into hell.

Don’t be timorous in conscience; God does not wish us to fall. He is infinitely merciful to sins of frailty-the sins we should fear most greatly are deliberate, coldblooded sins: sins which perhaps in the beginning don’t seem very much, but which we take~ to our hearts, and which vitiate our spiritual life. Sins too that make us critical, cynical, ready to judge others, to indulge in hard thoughts of God and our neighbour.

Ask to be allowed to help to save souls from rejecting God who loves them so much.

THE DUTY AND PRIVILEGE OF THANKSGIVING

In the epistles of St. Paul, the Apostle uses so many words connected with thanks. Even the Pharisee gives thanks he is not as others are. The duty appears to have been very present to the mind of the Jews.

“Always giving thanks-in everything.” How far is this a true description of our own state of mind? What is implied in the thought of gratitude? To acknowledge an obligation. Every breath ought to acknowledge it. God has drawn us out of nothing, and all we are is due to God’s action, not only in the past but in the present. That I exist at all is a matter of thanksgiving. If that thought is deep in our hearts, it will put us into an attitude that is not common. All God’s attributes, His power, His justice, His purity-and this grain of dust! It makes me have the proper idea of myself. It would, if carried out, make sin impossible. When we resist God’s will, it is because we think we have some rights of our own. We could not, if we had, the deep conviction of our own nothingness, and of the all-greatness of God:

It is a sort of condition of nearness to God that we should always realize our position as creatures. Every moment we are receiving back from God the gift of life. We can’t exist for five minutes of ourselves. No instalment of life from five minutes to five minutes: we receive it every moment. What folly and wickedness on the part of a creature to be setting himself up against God, when every moment of his life is a fresh gift from Him. The recognition of His omnipotence and our insignificance is a prelude to great graces in prayer.

What are we to thank God for?

Those high in God’s favour are full of thankfulness for what others pass by. It would be good to pass many days in thanking God for coming to our aid and saving us from losing our temper. Gratitude is the first thing that should come to our mind, in the ordinary events of life. At night to run over the events of the day, and thank God for all that has happened to us: the graces He has given us, the dangers He has saved us from, would help us to understand His Providence. If we thanked God for a hundred years that we have been allowed to go to Holy Communion once,we shouldn’t come within a thousand miles of the limits of the gratitude we owe Him. Have you ever thought that God has kept you alive for that Holy Communion you received today, and that it was a particular, personal gift from Our Lord? Supposing He sent an angel to say He wished to pass the day in your house? He does more; He comes into your breast. God doesn’t love some one less because He loves some one else also. His dealings with us are essentially personal. The fact of the sun warming one person doesn’t make it warm another less.

Now about the little things. A good test of your spiritual life is if you find satisfaction in thanking God. He is in your heart, and moving you to it. How personal His love is, and how He craves for our love! When the lepers went away, He felt it when only one came back to give thanks. He called attention at the Pharisee’s feast to all Mary Magdalene had done for Him; there you see Our Lord. Do we thank Him only for things put down in our prayer-books, forgetting the little things He has given us all day long-good weather-something we wanted. Our Lord is so human, so interested in so many other things than merely our duties. If you love a person, the smallest want of attention hurts you. A person in the street hustles you-it doesn’t matter-but a friend!

CHRIST AND HIS APOSTLES

Let us meditate a little on the sort of companionship to which Our Lord called His Apostles: a sort we should try to reproduce in our lives. We are all called to spread His love, whatever our vocation in life may be. There is apostolic work for all. It is said of St. Teresa that thousands of souls were granted to her prayers.

There was an astonishing intimacy between Our Lord and His Apostles. He lived with them, slept by their side, and there is the sweet tradition of how in the cold nights, He would get up and go round among them, drawing their rough covetings over them, lest they should be chilled. He did not stand on His dignity with them, and they spoke to Him as children to a father. Some of them even abused this privilege. St. Peter took upon himself, as we know, to lecture Our Lord, andOur Lord rebuked him for his worldly advice, saying, “Get thee behind Me, Satan,”* etc. He reproved them for * Matt. XVI. 23, their faults, but His rebukes never left a sting. We are so apt to go away when we have committed a fault, hurt and wounded. It is dreadfully wrong to waste time so. Nothing pleases Him like confidence. Whenever you feel inclined to doubt His love, and think the whole thing hopeless, remember, this discouragement is not of God, but either of your poor doubting self, or of the devil. No matter how trusting our thoughts of Him may be, they will always fall short of the truth.

And the truth is that Our Lord loves each of us with such intensity that He would go through all His Passion again now if that were needed to secure our happiness in Heaven. In the face of His love every difficulty crumbles to pieces. He craves for our love. A mother’s love is nothing compared to His. And this not before we have offended Him, but at this very present moment:

“Not as though we had loved God, but because He hath fir st loved us, and sent His Son to be a propitiation for our sins.”** But-no-we cannot believe it. The fear of not being forgiven goes along with sin. Judas refused to believe Our Lord could be so good as to forgive him.

Even if we do not actually despair, we often behave in a very foolish, wicked way. We allow the first effect of our sins to be an estrangement between us and God. We must hide ourselves from Him. Even of lesser sins we build up a barrier shutting us off from Him.

We have, too often, such a fine opinion of ourselves that when we fall we think the very angels must be amazed that such a wonderful, unheard-of thing has happened. We throw up our hands in horror, or go into a corner and sulk, or feel we cannot approach God till we have done some great penance. That was not the way of the saints, who being humble were not astonished at their failings. They made an act of sorrow and were just the same with Our Lord as they had been before. They were ashamed and sorry, but not surprised.

Our Lord forgives most easily, and does not want us to stay away from Him because of our sins. To think He would withhold graces from us because of what we have done in the past is absurd. We mustn’t cry over spilt milk, or make ourselves too unhappy over past sins or faults or mistakes. As a rule it is not a good thing to think too much over the wrong we have done. After a good act of contrition and confession, as a rule, think no more about it. Don’t let us sit down by the wayside and weep, but let us arise and go forward with our Friend.

BEING USED BY GOD

Be persuaded that God is willing to use us, in spite of our unworthiness, for His work. Such a feeling is opposed to a worldly, dismal view of life. The Spirit of God is one of life, and hope, and freedom. St. Peter of Alcantara was once in conversation with a Spanish nobleman on the troubles of the time. “Things look very bad indeed,” said the nobleman: “what will become of the world?” St. Peter answered, “ Well now, I have a plan of my own for reforming the world. I am going to begin to reform myself; and you do the same, and there will be two reformed.” St. Francis Xavier was told, “It’s not the least use your trying to do anything with those people.” He paid no attention, simply set to work, and there was soon a wonderful change. The character of sanctity is hopefulness. God is more than able to cope with any evil. We must offer ourselves to God, and He will use us. There were very few Apostles, with all the world arrayed against them; but they had God with them, and they won their fight. No matter how much of worthlessness there is in us. Our Lord says, “My child, give Me your heart. I don’t ask you to conquer that habit; you can’t-but put your will in My hands, and everything will comeright.” St. Teresa wanting to make one of her foundations, was speaking of it to a friend who took a discouraging view. “Sixpence and Teresa won t go far,” said the Saint, “but sixpence and Teresa and Almighty God will go very far.” Our spiritual life ought to have plenty of hopefulness, that He’ll use even us for great things.

God is love-is joy-is absolute freedom. Compare the free, noble, generous, courageous life of one who hopes great things from God with the cramped life, full of doubt, full of misgiving, of one who is forever deploring his faults, as if God wouldn’t forgive him. It isn’t falling that matters, it’s remaining on the road; wasting time, and making it more difficult to go on farther. The sort of life we ought to lead is being sorry for our inevitable faults, but having an absolute, trust in God. If He is all-powerful, why need I trouble about difficulties? Whenever you feel inclined to lose heart and say **I John IV.10 it’s no good, all this is not meant for me, I am too bad, too weak, etc.- that is not the Spirit of God speaking to you. But whenever your heart is lifted, and you feel there is such a thing as loving God, and feeling happy in the thought that God loves you-that is God within you. Somehow it is growing in my mind that God is wonderfully good to me; that He helps me not only in, Holy Communion, but all through the day, and somehow the idea of working for Our Lord, and with Our Lord, is becoming a reality-well, you have mounted to a higher plane, a different spiritual world. You are beginning to realize that what induced God to create the world was love, and what He wants of us is to be united to Him, and to work out our salvation loving Him. Loving Our Lord is the shortest and best way of becoming saints, doing all just to please Him. St. Paul lays such stress in his epistles on being thankful to God. His gratitude was unceasing. St. Paul had been a persecutor, assisting at the stoning of St. Stephen, on his way to persecute the Christians at Damascus-true; but you and I have just as much reason to be thankful to God. When we remember that every moment we live God re-creates us; when we remember He is putting every moment in our hand that priceless gift of life, it is not much to say, My God I thank Thee. In most talk, how rare to find any one speaking in praise of our long-suffering Lord! Think of it-His own creatures finding fault with Him. Why doesn’t He give me more graces? Why not my heart’s desire? And then we’ are surprised we don’t go forward as we ought. What thankless, mean, ungrateful creatures we are! Everyone brings forward accusations of woe against God. I wish I were only speaking of His enemies: alas! it is of you, and me, I speak. Fault-finding with God- thinking He is very hard to you-wondering why He hasn’t given you this or that grace. “God doesn’t care for thanks”-a great mistake. He is greedy of thanks. Do you remember His healing the ten lepers, and nine went away, only thinking of enjoying their new happiness? Only one came back, a Samaritan. Isn’t it a lifelike representation of what goes on in the world? “And,” Jesus said, “were there not ten cleansed? and where are the nine?”* Instead of being filled with gratitude at what He gives us, we go back to our old system of finding fault. “Oh yes, Father, He did that for me, but what of this other? “ Is that grateful? and lovable? To be grateful is a sign of a fine and noble nature. If you do high-minded people a very small service, how grateful they are. Never was there any one so sensitive to kindness or to gratitude as Our Lord. If you want to get a big grace, begin by thanking God over and over again for the small details of life; for another day in which to serve Him, for all His evidences of love during the day, etc. If you have done only a small thing for some friend, and he is deeply grateful for it, how it touches your heart.

Try to touch the Sacred Heart, and go on thanking Him, during the day for Holy Communion. Whatever happens, let me remember that one supreme gift He gave me this morning. That disposition of thankfulness gives us a confidence in Him that is a great help. It brings us very near to love. The more grateful you are, the more you love. It is also a great practice of humility, it reminds us we have all from Him. So I strongly recommend great gratitude for the small matters of daily life. If you are constantly thanking God for what He has done for you, you won’t be tempted to find fault with Him. It delivers us from the disposition to find fault, and enables us to make some return to God for His love.

OUR USE OF CIRCUMSTANCE

Everything God has made is good, and this profusion is spread that we should see what helps us to serve Him, and put away from us what would be an obstacle. It is given us to choose from. But men say, Does this please me? Yes: and they throw themselves upon it without control or restraint, and through their fault it becomes an occasion of temptation. He gives us free will that we may choose. One test He means us to apply: does this help me to love and serve Him? If not, I must thrust it away. Such and such a friendship—inclination- tendency- are these occasions of loving God less or more?

“I am so hedged in, it is impossible for me to be a saint.” Has God abdicated His Empire? You have never had a temptation, met a single person, had a single difficulty, He has not known of. In every part of His universe, and in every man’s heart, God resides. Nothing happens that God does not permit to happen. When we complain, we either deny that God is acting at all, or that He is acting wisely. Have you the idea that there is some short cut to Heaven, which you know of, and God does not? There is no need to go into the desert to become a saint. The greatest possible delusion is to think * Luke xvii. 17. that sanctity depends on circumstances. You have a better chance of being a saint as a. man or woman in the world than as a Carmelite, if you are where God wants you to be. Be satisfied with your present life, and lead it to the full. Be content with things as they are, and make the best of them.

RELIGION

Religion ought to be one’s whole life and one’s whole day. Life is not something which, when started, goes on by itself: we are being as it were re-created every moment. True religion consists in always thinking of God; and morning and night prayers and. the Sacraments once a month, or even once a week, is a warped and miserable presentment of it. What God claims of us is that we should love Him all day long. “Pray always”-not only at fixed times. God is residing in the very centre of my heart, and doesn’t want words, but continual service.

“He is a buckler to them that hope in Him.”* What does He mean? We are entirely dependent on God. He is always with us. . . . The service of God consists in always putting ourselves in relation with God. But I must eat and drink and work; there are social duties I must perform; how can I think of God all the day long? By doing whatever we do in reference to Him. Worldly people succeed so well in forgetting God, that the thought of God is a shock. They go out of their way to forget Him.

The thought of God puts human respect out of our heart. If we remember Him we do not mind much what our fellowcreatures think and say of us. No matter what they say, no one can do us any harm without God’s permission. Our religion mustn’t be a thing tacked on to our lives. Not a hair of our head falls without God’s permission: if then we hope in God, He will be to us a buckler and a protection.

Take an ordinary Catholic’s hope in God. He finds himself in spiritual difficulties. “I find it very hard to overcome a dislike. All very well talking, I can’t get on with so-andso. What’s the good of religion if I can’t, try as I will, get over this dislike?” Does “hope” mean that? God doesn’t ask us to do things that are too difficult. Is it at all likely He would require of us what we can’t do? Hope means we believe, and if we try to do what we can do, He will come to our help. Jesus says,” My yoke is easy, and My burden is light.” Who is likely to be right, God, or God’s enemies?

LOVING GOD

What does Our Lord tell us is the first and greatest commandment? “Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart and all thy mind and all thy strength.” He is so full of it, He can’t say enough about it. And then we affect to doubt that He intends it for us! You are utterly wrong in your conception of Catholic life. To do that which God invites you to do can’t be presumption. What I mean by invitation is this. You desire to love God. The mere wish comes from God alone. He alone is capable of putting that into your mind, it keeps coming into our mind. Would God be so cruel as to hold before us something so good for us to have and yet never give it? Hecouldn’t, and Hedoesn’t, do it. He goes on putting the desire to love Him into our hearts, and then, when we have persevered in loving and asking, He grants us what we asked for, and a hundred times more. What seemed above our ken once, somehow isn’t above it now, and the thought of doing something for God appeals to us, and we do what we had never thought to do. There is no contradiction between having a real love of God and yet having humiliating imperfections, vanity, jealousy, etc., and certain things about which we find it very difficult to conquer ourselves.

Perhaps you’ve been angry with Our Lord that He didn’t help you to overcome some fault. Don’t imagine you don’t love Our Lord, because joined with undoubted holiness, there are certain little faults which humble you. God’s own hand alone can light the spark of true love in your heart: Look, you say, how conceited I am, how selfish I am, etc. If He says, do love Me more, these things won’t stand in the way. Nothing will stand between you if only, you will let Him have His way. If you want to kill the invitation, take narrow views that you can’t hope for this or that great grace. Listen to God. What facts have I to go upon in saying this? That supreme one, that you wish to love God. Time is of no importance to God; in a moment He can transform your heart.

* 2 Kings xxii. 31.

Our Lord once asked a sa int to make a certain sacrifice. He said, I can’t. My will is stronger than myself. And Our Lord said, I’ll give you greater strength; and the saint made the sacrifice. Put your faith in Him.

Don’t make Him hold His hand. When God asks us to look Him in the face and ask Him for favours, and we look down on the ground and say: “Not for me,” that does not please Him at all.

HOLY JOY

In the spiritual life, the more our hearts are fixed on God, the less importance we attach to external things. We are not distressed because we go about less well dressed than others, or have fewer amusements. So the real remedy for the difficulties of life is a share in the light of God, and we are not disturbed then at the lack of worldly joy, because God gives us a real joy to the soul, which is a very much higher arid of a more transporting character and more powerful than any human joy at all. It has such power to absorb the soul. If we haven’t it, it is not that God doesn’t want to give it us; it is our own fault, and comes from our adopting low, unworthy views of life. God is willing to pour into our souls part of His own gladness, and He is the source of all happiness; wherever He is, is joy. Goodness naturally leads to joy. It would be a trump card in the devil’s hand if it were otherwise. He would like you to believe if you want joy, you must go to him for it-a lie. All joy comes from God-what did He promise to His followers? Peace, and peace is a more tranquil form of joy. He warned them of hardships, but He promised peace. In these restless times, peace is hardly appreciated. “Don’t come to Me,” Our Lord says,” merely for money, or purely material things, but come to Me for unchanging peace of soul.” Whether we are rich or poor, whether the world smiles or jars on us, whether we are in good or bad health, nothing of all this will touch our peace. Never give way to that false persuasion that the service of God means pain and difficulty: we never serve Him so well as in joy. Ask Him to make the tide rise high in your soul and you will overcome yourself more easily, and have an antidote to every pain and trouble that can touch you.

RESENTMENT

Take a very bad case. A person has been behaving atrociously to me. I think in this case I have a right to be angry, and to say it is impossible to love him. My dear child, is there anyone to whom you have behaved badly? . . “Oh no, I am very amiable and kind to every one.” I am not speaking of that. Is there not Some One to whom you have behaved badly? Some One who has done you extraordinary favours? Who shows you the most tender, unceasing love, and yet whom you have continually wounded and pained, not, I hope, by grave sins, but at least by constant lesser offences? Some One who has forgiven you again and again? Is it credible that you are still committing faults against such a One? . . . Has that person who has behaved badly to you behaved one millionth part as badly as you have to God? When you have repaid to Him what you owe, go and wreak your vengeance on the person who has wronged you. . . . . . When His goodness is requited by unfailing generosity on our part, we may begin to complain of the conduct of others. No one can be so mean to me as I am towards God. I endure unwillingly what He sends me; I complain to others, even to Himself, of how hardly I am used. Thoughts such as these put us in our proper place and blow out the fire of resentment in our hearts.

PAST, PRESENT, AND FUTURE

Some people seem to have one eye on the past and one on the future: and none on the present. God doesn’t give us grace for the past, nor for the future; and if you choose to worry about it now, God won’t give you the grace you lost in the past. Don’t be saying, Oh, I could be very good now, if I hadn’t done this or that in the past. The moment we are sorry, God forgives us. There has been a bad sin of temper. If a habit, the habit remains, and it requires a greater effort than if you had never given way; but God will give you a special grace. What a pity to trouble about the future! Try and console people of this habit of mind. “Ah,” they will say, “but what about six months hence?” Don’t trouble about what is going to happen further on. Before tomorrow comes, God doesn’t give you tomorrow’s grace. Let’s do our best in the present. The saint lives neither in the past nor in the future, but tries to be always at God’s beck. Don’t trouble about whether you can keep your temper tomorrow. One reason why God doesn’t let us know when we are going to die is that our thoughts may not be fixed on the future. The power of concentration, in itself a great gift, means fixing our attention on what is before us. The future is in God’s hands, and we are afraid He’ll fail us! What simpletons we are to think we can do better for our future than to do at the present moment what God wants us to do!

“Think of God as goodness”; have a good opinion of God. Always think of God as incapable of doing a hard, unkind, cruel thing. To think of God as taking an advantage of you, as not being likely to help you in difficulties, is a folly and an injustice. The more you love a person, the more sensitive you are to his opinion. So with Our Lord. He doesn’t like us to consider Him mean, or tothink we have set our hearts on some spiritual thing He isn’t ready to give us. If we have that high opinion of God, everything is possible to us.

A MAN WITHOUT GUILE

This was the praise Our Lord bestowed upon Nathanael.* When Our Lord praises He picks out a quality that specially pleases Him. We hear, and naturally covet it; we should like Him to find the same quality in us, that He might praise us too.

To be guileless is not to play a part: not to want to over-reach others; not to get the better of another by deceit: of all this Our Lord does not approve. Neither is it foolishness; it is not to be stupid. There is no fold in it-nothing up our sleeve.

Nathanael’s character was open: all his cards on the table. Quite open and plain: you could read his mind like looking in at an open window: no duplicity, no “two folds.” How early we begin to teach children not to be simple! With most of us we are playing a part on the stage of life. To find a person absolutely transparent is very rare.

Simple with regard to God. It would seem so foolish to be otherwise. He sees even the very beginning of our thoughts. Yet how silly we are in that matter! Which of us doesn’t find out that he has been practising deceit with God? If we would only tell God the truth about ourselves, without excuses!

And if we are not honest with God, how much less likely to be honest with others! The prodigal made such a simple confession: no attempt to justify himself: the whole truth.

Simplicity in meditation-no grand thoughts. Take for your model the simple prayer of the poor publican-”God be merciful to me a sinner.” It is much better to take one thought and stick to it. Look at the Divine simplicity in the Agony in the Garden. The fault generally in prayer is the want of simplicity.

Try then to be simple with God. Tell Him we find things hard; we are very sorry it is hard, but so it is. In this way we are at home with God. It seems to me that God treats us in the same way we treat Him. If we will talk to Him in a, very far-off ceremonious fashion, well, He treats us in the same way.

Simplicity with our neighbour. Very often our object is only to let people see a bit of us. If there is anything we are ashamed of, we take very good care no one knows anything about it. The world’s maxim is, only let that which is to your advantage be known. Bismarck scored valuable successes by simply telling the truth. No one believed him. It gives us a delicious sensation of fresh air when we come upon a really simple person. Generally; at the bottom of a want of simplicity, is pride. The holier people are, the more natural and unaffected they are. Might we not make some improvement in ourselves, and be more truthful?

Now about ourselves. We must be simple and straightforward with ourselves. If we want to be drugged and dosed with flattery, to be told we are so much better than others, etc. etc., we can get any amount of it. If we are told home-truths, we are lost in astonishment. We create an opinion of ourselves, and then expect others to support it. It isn’t that any of us want to play the hypocrite and impostor with God and ourselves. But it is not an easy thing in practice not to be afraid to say to ourselves, I ought to be thoroughly ashamed of myself. We are accused of heartlessness, and we sat, Oh, I know what my own motives are. Well, do you-at any rate give the benefit to others.

It is well worth our while to be thoroughly honest with God. It is much easier to pray. The one thing He asks of us is to * John I. 47 say we have done wrong -shockingly wrong. When we make excuses for ourselves,’ He doesn’t like it-if we want peace of soul, simplicity with ourselves is the way to get it. We can go on deluding ourselves if we like. Ask for this grace of simplicity at the cradle of the Holy Child.

HIGH STANDARDS

We must keep our standards high. When ships are preparing for a voyage, with what care everything is examined, to see that all is correct, compasses true, etc. We must do the same with our own souls. What is our sense of sin? Especially, how do we look at small sins? The world is continually pulling down our standard. No one willingly admits he is in the wrong, or has done anything dishonourable, so the spirit of the world leads him to try and excuse it, and show it is not dishonourable.

The world drinks down iniquity like water. It is of such consequence to have a proper judgement of things. The fumes of gas are very unpleasant, but one gets accustomed to them, and it is only when we get into the fresh air that we find out in what an atmosphere we have been living. Living in the world, we get, a little perverted by the low ideas of those with whom we live.

“Venial” sins-sins “more easily pardoned “-are of quite a different class to mortal sins. But if we have the proper sense of sin, we ought to shrink from, and be dreadfully sorry if we give way to, smaller sins. The world says, “Why make yourself unhappy about trifles? He makes his life miserable-nearly off his head if he thinks he has done something wrong.” It is very happy for us if this kind of talk has no effect on us. The world often takes as a scruple what is not a scruple at all. Let us try and get our standard right, and get that judgement of sin which God has. It is very little matter what the world says, if God says something different. The world is not our judge; it will be judged itself. Are they small matters? Who is to decide?

Letus try and attune our minds to God’s mind.

HOPE AND HOLINESS

If I were asked for the best sign in someone I did not know very intimately, of how far he would go in the spiritual life, and how great things he would do for God, I think I would find out how far he possessed the virtue of Hope. And by Hope I mean the practical conviction that God is not only very good, but very good to me.

What holds us back in the spiritual life is want of hope, want of confidence. Every one could become a saint, if he would only believe that God wants to make him one. The wonder is that, people being as good as they are, they are not a great deal better. And the reason of it is, their want of Hope. We are so shockingly inconsistent. We believe that, morning after morning, God gives us His own Body and Blood in the Holy Eucharist, and that, later in the day, when we go and ask a small grace of Him, He won’t give it! Could anything be more absurd and illogical?

If you want to know what point you have attained to in the spiritual life, see what you hope for. Is it a little grace, or immense graces? If you say, God has been wonderfully good to me, and I hope to get so far as to endure this humiliation for His sake, or to overcome my horrible temper; so that in place of my friends calling me a spitfire they may think I have become an angel, you have real hope, and you are very near to God. Why ask Him little things? He would more willingly give you what is magnificent than what is paltry. The difference between a saint and an ordinary person is, the saint has such much bigger ideas of God. If you say, I have misspent my life for so many years, and now it is too late, and I can do nothing for God- don’t you see that you are misconceiving His power and His infinite love? We have such disrespectful and unworthy views of God. We call Him Our Father, and then treat Him as a stranger or a foe. In this ruck so many of us crawl on slowly, and when we hear this doctrine, we say, It isn’t meant for the likes of us.

A saint and another person commit the same fault. The sinner draws away, and keeps aloof: the saint is very sorry, but goes on just as before; he makes no difference. It is too late, people say, why didn’t I begin fifty years ago? Time is nothing to God. Does the father tell the prodigal son to go into penal servitude for six years, and then perhaps he’ll receive him back again? He takes him into his house at once, puts the best robe on him, and feasts him. Widen your thoughts of God, He never ceases to love you.

THE SPIRIT OF SELF-DENIAL

We can’t live a day without it. Mortification is, I know, an unpleasant subject. “If you want to serve God, mortify yourself.” It is perhaps a mistake to put that too forward. A recruiting sergeant puts the pleasant things forward to attract his recruits.

But fix your eyes on Our Lord. How He loves us-and the good He has done us! We don’t want to be cold-Our Lord didn’t like being cold-He didn’t like being buffeted. The more we love Him, the more we shall want to be like Him and live as He did. I want to do as Our Lord wants me to do. And that, today: the day given me. I am not going to wait for a cruel letter, or a slap in the face, or the illness of my best friend to practise resignation, or I may be exceedingly good once in five years, and I want to be good every five minutes. This was St. Alphonsus Ligouri’s answer when he was asked the way to perfection: “Be happy and contented; be satisfied with what you have, and where you are.” Be pleasant and meek and energetic, and let others see that religion makes people very easy to live with.

Do not be afraid you cannot be near to God if you are living a very ordinary life. When the question of the canonization of St. Ignatius arose, one of these who had known him said, “Canonize Ignatius! you might as well canonize three-quarters of the clergy-I never saw anything particular about him.” . . . Fix your eyes on Jesus and Mary; you will begin afar off, but persevere, and you will draw nearer and nearer every day.

THE GOLDEN MAXIM

It is only by loving one another that we can bring home to each other what the love of God is.

********

Garment of Grace

INDEX

WHY DO WE WEAR THE SCAPULAR?

If you wear Mary’s Brown Scapular, you should be introduced to St. Simon Stock. You may already know him from his picture (along with Our Lady’s) on your Scapular. Actually, St. Simon is an old friend, for it was to him that Our Blessed Mother gave the Scapular promise in 1251, saying, “Whosoever dies wearing this Scapular shall not suffer eternal fire.”

One of the great mysteries of our time is that the majority of Catholics either ignore, or have entirely forgotten this Heavenly promise of the Blessed Virgin Mary. Our Lady further says: “Wear the Scapular devoutly and perseveringly. It is My garment. To be clothed in it means you are continually thinking of Me, and I in turn, am always thinking of you and helping you to secure eternal life.”

Blessed Claude de La Colombiere, the renowned Jesuit and spiritual director of St. Margaret Mary, gives a point which is enlightening. He said, “Because all the forms of our love for the Blessed Virgin and all its various modes of expression cannot be equally pleasing to Her, and therefore do not assist us in the same degree to reach Heaven, I say, without a moment’s hesitation, that the BROWN SCAPULAR IS THE MOST FAVORED OF ALL!” He also adds, “No devotion has been confirmed by more numerous authentic miracles than the Brown Scapular.”

OLD TESTAMENT HISTORY

Devotion to Our Lady of Mount Carmel (the Madonna of the Scapular) goes back far before the time of St. Simon Stock—even before the time of Our Blessed Lord; it goes back all the way to the 8th century B.C. It was then that the great prophet Elias ascended the holy mountain of Carmel in Palestine, and began there a long tradition of contemplative life and prayer. It is amazing to realize that centuries before Christ was born, Holy Elias and his followers had mystically dedicated themselves to God’s Mother-to-come, Mary, Queen of Mount Carmel. Nearly three thousand years later, that tradition of prayer, contemplation, and devotion to Mary continues to live and prevail in the Catholic Church.

In the fullness of time, God became the GodMan, Jesus. We know of Our Lord’s life, death, resurrection and ascension from the four Gospels of the New Testament, and we know that Jesus bequeathed to the world the Holy Catholic Church to teach, to govern, and to sanctify in His Name.

On the Feast of Pentecost, the birthday of the Church, the spiritual descendants of Elias and his followers came down from Mount Carmel. Fittingly, they were the first that day to accept the message of Christianity and to be baptized by the Apostles. When, at last, they were presented to Our Lady, and heard the sweet words from Her lips, they were overcome with a sense of majesty and sanctity which they never forgot. Returning to their holy mountain, they erected the first chapel ever built in honor ofthe Blessed Virgin Mary. From that time, devotion to God’s Mother was handed down by the hermits on Mount Carmel as a treasured spiritual legacy.

OUR LADY APPEARS TO ST. SIMON

In the year 1241, the Baron de Grey of England was returning from the Crusades in Palestine: he brought back with him a group of religious from the holy mountain of Carmel. Upon arrival, the baron generously presented the monks with a manor house in the town of Aylesford. Ten years later, in the very place, there occurred the now famous apparition of Our Lady to St. Simon Stock. As the Holy Virgin handed St. Simon the brown woolen Scapular She spoke these words: “This shall be the privilege for you and all Carmelites, that anyone dying in this habit shall not suffer eternal fire.” In time, the Church extended this magnificent privilege to all the laity who are willing to be invested in the Brown Scapular of the Carmelites, and who perpetually wear it.

Many Catholics are invested in the Brown Scapular at the time of their First Holy Communion; in the case of converts the vesting concurs with their Profession of Faith. When a person is enrolled in the Confraternity of the Brown Scapular and vested in that tiny habit of brown wool, the priest says to him: “Receive this blessed Scapular and ask the most holy Virgin that, by Her merits, it may be worn with no stain of sin and may protect you from all harm and bring you into everlasting life.” The following true stories will give a brief idea of how Our Blessed Mother keeps Her promise.

MIRACLE OF GRACE

A priest relates how one day in a town near Chicago he was called to the bedside of a man who had been away from the Sacraments for many years. “The man did not want to see me: he would not talk. Then I asked him to look at the little Scapular I was holding. “Will you wear this if I put it on you? I ask nothing more.” He agreed to wear it, and within the hour he wanted to go to confession and make his peace with God. This did not surprise me, because for over 700 years Our Lady has been working in this way through Her Scapular.”

On the very day that Our Lady gave the Scapular to St. Simon Stock, he was hurriedly called by Lord Peter of Linton: “Come quickly, Father, my brother is dying in despair!” St. Simon Stock left at once for the bedside of the dying man. Upon arrival he placed his large Scapular over the man, asking Our Blessed Mother to keep Her promise. Immediately the man repented, and died in the grace and friendship of God. That night the dead man appeared to his brother and said, I have been saved through the most powerful Queen and the habit of that man as a shield.”

St. Alphonsus tells us: “Modern heretics make a mock ery of wearing the Scapular. They decry it as so much trifling nonsense.” Yet we know that many of the Popes have approved and recommended it. It is remarkable that just 25 years after the Scapular Vision, Blessed Pope Gregory X was buried wearing the Scapular. When his tomb was opened 600 years after his death, his Scapular was found intact.

Two great founders of Religious Orders, St. Alphonsus, of the Redemptorists and St.John Bosco of the Salesians had a very special devotion to Our Lady of Mount Carmel and both wore Her Brown Scapular. When they died, each was buried in his priestly vestments and Scapular. Many years later, their graves were opened, the bodies and sacred vestments in which they were buried were decayed-dust! BUT THE BROWN SCAPULAR WHICH EACH WAS WEARING WAS PERFECTLY INTACT. The Scapular of St. Alphonsus is on exhibit in his Monastery in Rome.

PROTECTION AGAINST THE DEVIL

You will understand why the devil works against those who promote the Scapular when you hear the story of Venerable Francis Ypes. One day his Scapular fell off. As he replaced it, the devil howled, “Take off the habit which snatches so many souls from us!” Then and there Francis made the devil admit that there are three things which the demons are most afraid of: the Holy Name of Jesus, the Holy Name of Mary, and the Holy Scapular of Carmel. To that list we could add: the Holy Rosary.

The great St. Peter Cl aver was another of God’s heroes who used the Scapular to good advantage. Every month a shipment of 1000 slaves would arrive at Cartegena, Colombia, South America. St. Peter used to insure the salvation of his converts. First, he organized catechists to give them instructions. Then, he saw to it that they were baptized and clothed with the Scapular. Some ecclesiastics accused the Saint of indiscreet zeal, but St. Peter was confident that Mary would watch over each of his more than 300,000 converts!

OUR LADY PROTECTS A MISSIONARY

One day in 1944, a Carmelite missionary in the Holy Land was called to an internment camp in order to give the Last Rites. The Arab bus driver made the priest get off the bus four miles from the camp because the road was dangerously muddy. After two miles, the missionary found his feet sinking deeper and deeper into the mire. Trying to get solid footing, he slipped into a muddy pool. Sinking to his death in this desolate place, he thought of Our Lady and Her Scapular. He kissed his great Scapular—for he was wearing the full habit—and looked toward the holy mountain of Carmel, the birthplace of devotion to God’s Mother. He cried out, “Holy Mother of Carmel! Help me! Save me!” A moment later, he found himself on solid ground. Laterhe said, “I know I was saved by the Blessed Virgin through Her Brown Scapular. My shoes were lost in the mud, and I was covered with it, but I walked the remaining two miles praising Mary.”

SAVED FROM THE SEA

Another Scapular story that bears repeating took place in 1845. In the late summer of that year, the English ship, “King of the Ocean” found itself in the middle of a wild hurricane. As wind and sea mercilessly lashed the ship, a Protestant minister, together with his wife and children and other passengers, struggled to the deck to pray for mercy and forgiveness, as the end seemed at hand. Among the crew was a young Irishman, John McAuliffe. On seeing the urgency of the situation, the youth opened his shirt, took off his Scapular, and, making the Sign of the Cross with it over the raging waves, tossed it into the ocean. At that very moment, the wind calmed. Only one more wave washed the deck, bringing with it the Scapular which came to rest at the boy’s feet. All the while the minister (a Mr. Fisher) had been carefully observing McAuliffe’s actions and the miraculous effect of those actions. Upon questioning the young man, they were told about the Holy Virgin and Her Scapular. Mr. Fisher and his family were so impressed that they were determined to enter the Catholic Church as soon as possible, and thereby enjoy the same protection of Our Lady’s Scapular.

A HOME SAVED FROM FIRE

Nearer our own times, in May of 1957, a Carmelite priest in Germany published the unusual story of how the Scapular saved a home from fire. An entire row of homes had caught fire in Westboden, Germany. The pious inhabitants of a 2-family home, seeing the fire, immediately fastened a Scapular to the main door of the house. Sparks flew over it and around it, but the house remained unharmed. Within 5 hours, 22 homes had been reduced to ashes. The one structure which stood undamaged amidst the destruction was that which had the Scapular attached to its door. The hundreds of people who came to see the place Our Lady had saved are eye-witnesses to the power of the Scapular and the intercession of the Blessed Virgin Mary.

A TRAIN ACCIDENT

One of the most extraordinary of all Scapular incidents took place right here in the United States. It happened around the turn of the century in the town of Ashtabula, Ohio, that a man was cut in two by a train; he was wearing the Scapular. Instead of dying instantly, as is usual, he remained alive AND CONSCIOUS for 45 minutes—just enough time until a priest could arrive to administer the Last Sacraments. These, and other such incidents, tell us that Our Blessed Mother will take personal care of us in the hour of our death. So great and powerful a Mother is Mary that She will never fail to keep the Scapular contract, i.e., to see that we die in God’s grace

A PRIEST’S LIFE IS SAVED

Still another Scapular miracle concerns a French priest who had gone on pilgrimage. On the way to say Mass, he remembered that he had forgotten his Scapular. He knew he would be late if he went back to retrieve it, but he could not envision offering Mass at Our Lady’s altar without Her Scapular. Later, as he was offering the Holy Sacrifice, a young man approached the altar, pulled out a gun, and shot the priest in the back. To the amazement of all, the priest continued to say the prayers of the Mass as though nothing had occurred. It was at first presumed that the bullet had miraculously missed its target. However, upon examination, the bullet was found ADHERING TO THE LITTLE BROWN SCAPULAR which the priest had so obstinately refused to be without.

CONVERSIONS

We should even give the Scapular to non-Catholics for Our Lady will bring conversions to those who will wear it and say one Hail Mary each day, as the following true story will show. An old man was rushed to the St. Simon Stock Hospital in New York City, unconscious and dying. The nurse, seeing the Brown Scapular on the patient, called the priest. As the prayers were being said for the dying man, he became conscious and spoke up: “Father, I am not a Catholic.” “Then why are you wearing the Brown Scapular?” asked the priest. “I promised my friends to wear it,” the patient explained, “and say one Hail Mary a day.” “You are dying,” the priest told him. “Do you want to become a Catholic?” “All my life I wanted to be one,” the dying man replied. He was baptized, received the Last Rites, and died in peace. Our Lady took another soul under Her mantle through Her Scapular!

A CALL TO FERVOR

In October of 1952, an Air Force officer in Texas wrote the following: “Six months ago, shortly after I started wearing the Scapular, I experienced a remarkable change in my life. Almost at once, I started going to Mass every day. After a short time, I started going to receive Holy Communion daily. I kept Lent with a fervor that I had never experienced before. I was introduced to the practice of meditation, and found myself making feeble attempts on the way to perfection. I have been trying to live with God. I credit Mary’s Scapular.”

NECESSITY OF WEARING THE SCAPULAR

During the Spanish civil war in the 1930”s, seven Communists were sentenced to death because of their crimes. A Carmelite priest tried to prepare the men for death; they refused. As a last resort, he brought the men cigarettes, food and wine, assuring them that he would not talk religion. In a short while, they were all friendly, so he asked them for one small favor: “Will you permit me to place a Scapular on each of you?” Six agreed; one refused. Soon all Scapular wearers went to confession. The seventh continued to refuse. Only to please them, he put on a Scapular, he would do nothing more. Morning came, and as the moment of execution drew near, the seventh man made it clear that he was not going to ask for the priest. Although wearing the Scapular, he was determined to go to his death an enemy of God. Finally, the command was given, the firing squad did its deadly work, and seven lifeless bodies lay sprawled in the dust. Mysteriously, a Scapular was found approximately 50 paces from the bodies. Six men died WITH Mary’s Scapular; the seventh died WITHOUT the Scapular. Blessed Claude gives us the solution to the mystery of the missing Scapular: “You ask, “What if I desire to die in my sins?” I answer, “Then you will die in your sins, BUT YOU WILL NOT DIE IN YOUR SCAPULAR.” “ Blessed Claude tells the story of a man who tried to drown himself three times. He was rescued against his will. At last he realized that he was wearing his Scapular. Determined to take his life, he tore the Scapular from his neck and leaped into the water. Without Mary’s protective garment he accomplished his wish, and died in his sins.

FURTHER MIRACLES

A Jesuit missionary in Guatamala tells an incident of Our Lady’s Scapular protection. In November of 1955 a plane carrying 27 passengers crashed. All died except one young lady. When this girl saw that the plane was going down, she took hold of her Scapular, and called on Mary for help. She suffered burns, her clothing was reduced to ashes, but her Scapular was not touched by the flames.

In the same year of 1955, a similar miracle occurred in the Midwest. A 3rd-grader stopped in a gasoline station to put air in his bicycle tires, and at that very moment an explosion occurred. The boy’s clothing was burned off, but his Brown Scapular remained unaffected: a symbol of Mary’s protection. Today, although he still bears a few scars from the explosion, this young man has special reason to remember the Blessed Mother’s protection in time of danger.

The story below is true. It was originally published in a German periodical under the title of “Seine Mutter Meine Mutter” by a.m. Weigl and translated by Anna C. Pertsch. It is reprinted with the kind courtesy and permission of Fatima Findings in Baltimore, Md., a publication of the Reparation Society of the Immaculate Heart of Mary.

THE SCAPULAR THAT SAVED TWO LIVES

My batallion was a member of the Irene Brigade. We were just about to advance. After we passed Eindhofen, our trucks and tanks went through Uden. In the evening we encamped on an old farm near Nijmegen. Behind the house there was an old wooden pump surrounded by bricks. This offered a fine opportunity for a soldier to wash away the sweat and dust of hours of fighting. You can well imagine that we made good use of this opportunity. I was one of the group and so I tossed my jacket on the ground and hung my Scapular on the pump while I washed.

HORRIFYING NEWS

An hour later we received orders to proceed about a mile and a half further and to occupy a trench there. We were looking forward to being able to get a peaceful night’s sleep in that trench.

I was about to lie down and was unbuttoning my collar when to my horror I realized that I no longer had my Scapular. It had been a gift from my mother. I had had it with me all during the war and now that we were approaching the lion’s den was I to be deprived of it?

To go fetch it was unthinkable, so I tried not to think about it any more and to go to sleep. I pitched and tossed from my left side to my right, but I couldn’t get to sleep.

All around me, my buddies were sleeping like logs even though from time to time shells fell dangerously close. Finally I was overcome by the desire to get my Scapular back and I crept out among my sleeping companions. It wasn’t so easy to get past the sentry but I managed to do it and ran back the way we had come. It was pitch dark, but nevertheless I had good luck and in a short time I was back on the farm and at the pump. My hands glided searchingly all over the pump but the Scapular was gone. I was just about to strike a match when there was the sound of a dreadful explosion. What was I to do? Was that the sign of an enemy attack? As fast as I could I ran back to our trench. Maybe I could do something for my buddies there.

A VERY CLOSE CALL

Near the trench I saw the engineers busily at work hurriedly removing piles of dirt and barbed wire. At the very spot where my companions had been sleeping there yawned a gigantic shell-hole. Before they had vacated this trench the enemy had placed a time-bomb in it and it had exploded during my absence. Nobody survived the explosion. If I had not set out to fetch my Scapular, I would have been buried under that rubble too.

“THOUGHT YOU WERE THERE!”

On the following morning I went to the field kitchen and met a buddy there. He looked at me with astonishment. “I thought you were in that trench!”

“And I thought you were buried there!”

My friend continued, “I was lying in the trench, but before I went to sleep I went looking for you. But I couldn’t find you. The corporal saw me hunting around and asked me what I wanted. When I told him what I was doing there he said, “Be sensible! Instead go to that inn nearby and get me a bottle of water.” And while I was on this errand, the explosion occurred.”

HANDED ME MY SCAPULAR

“Well, I escaped it by a hair’s breadth too,” I replied. “But why on earth were you looking for me so late at night?” “To give you this,” he replied, and handed me my Scapular which he had taken from the old pump.

A SHIELD IN TIME OF BATTLE

Mr. Sisto Mosco of North Providence, Rhode Island, is a veteran of World War II, who survived, unscathed, the invasion of Normandy, and, later, the 7th Fleet War with the Japanese Fleet, the taking of Iwo Jima and Okinawa, and other bloody battles in the South Pacific. Sisto affirms that his miraculous escape is another perfect example of the powerful protection of Our Blessed Mother of Mount Carmel, through Her Brown Scapular.

“I was on the battleship the U.S.S. Nevada as chaplain’s yeoman during W. W. II in the Pacific. (I always wore my Scapular because I was brought up close to the Church, and I kept it on me all through the war.) The ship was loaded with dynamite. A suicide plane hit the deck, real close to where I was positioned. The blast blew open the bolted steel doors of the compartment. I alone was left uninjured after the explosion. The rest were all dead or seriously mangled. I was the only one untouched and I attribute it to the wearing of my Scapular.”

Mr. Mosco later received a commendation from the Admiral of the fleet for bravery, but in his heart he firmly believes that the credit goes to Our Lady, the Virgin most powerful, who works such wonders through Her Habit of Salvation.

VATICAN APPROVAL

In wearing the Scapular at all times we make silent petition for the Blessed Mother’s continual assistance. We share in all the prayers and good works of the Carmelite Scapular Confraternity throughout the world. Pope Pius XII often spoke of the Scapular. On the 700th anniversary of the appearance of Our Lady to St. Simon Stock, Pope Pius XII referred to the Scapular as”the Sign of Consecration to the Immaculate Heart of Mary.” The Scapular also represents the sweet yoke of Jesus Christ which Mary helps us to bear. And finally, the Pope continued, the Scapular marks us as one of Mary’s chosen children, and becomes for us (as the Germans call it) a “Garment of Grace.” Blessed Claude tells us, “Of all the pious practices which have inspired the faithful to honor the Mother of God, there is none so sure as that of the Scapular. No other devotion has been confirmed by so many and such extraordinary miracles.”

As we mentioned above, during the Scapular Anniversary celebration in Rome in 1951, Pope Pius XII told a very large audience to wear the Brown Scapular as a sign of consecration to the Immaculate Heart of Mary. Our Lady asked for this consecration in the last apparition at Fatima, when She appeared as Our Lady of Mount Carmel, holding the Brown Scapular out to the whole world. It was Her last moving appeal to souls to wear Her Scapular as a sign of consecration to Her Immaculate Heart.

A BRIEF SUMMARY

The Scapular is a habit -Our Lady’s habit. The Scapular must be worn over the shoulders in such a manner that one part hangs in front of the body and the other in back. Worn in any other way, it carries no indulgence or promise. It is not necessary to wear the Scapular next to the skin. Many Catholics may not know it is the wish of the Holy Father, the Pope, that the Scapular Medal should not be worn in place of the Cloth Scapular without sufficient reason. Mary cannot be pleased with anyone who substitutes the medal out of vanity, or out of fear of making open profession of faith. Such persons run the risk of not receiving the Promise. The medal has never been noted for any of the miraculous preservations attributed to the Brown Cloth Scapular.

May a non-Catholic wear the BROWN SCAPULAR? Yes, and in so doing, a non- Catholic will receive many graces and blessings with this special sign of devotion to the Mother of God. Although baptized Catholics are the only ones who can be officially enrolled in the Confraternity and share in the special Scapular privileges, non-Catholics are warmly encouraged to avail themselves of this special way of honoring Jesus” Mother. By wearing the Scapular, we are dedicated to Our Blessed Mother in a special way and have a strong claim upon Her protection and intercession.

IN CONCLUSION

Q. What is the Scapular?

A. The Scapular is a small replica of the religious habit consisting of two pieces of wool connected by ribbons and worn under one’s clothes so that one piece hangs in front and the other in back. Along with the Rosary and the

Miraculous Medal, the Scapular is one of the chief Marian sacramentals.

Q. And what is a sacramental?

A. A sacramental is anything set apart or blessed by the Church to excite good thoughts and to increase devotion, and through these movements of the heart, to remit venial sin.

Q. Is it the sacramental itself that gives grace?

A. No, it is not the sacramental itself that gives grace, but the devotion, the love of God, or sorrow for sin that it inspires. In using the sacramentals, the more devotion we have, the more grace we receive.

Q. What is the difference between sacraments and sacramentals?

A. The difference between the sacraments and the sacramentals is: 1st, the sacraments were instituted by Jesus

Christ and the sacramentals were instituted by the Church; 2nd, the sacraments give grace of themselves when we place no obstacle in the way; the sacramentals excite in us pious dispositions, by means of which we may obtain grace.

Q. What are some of the other sacramentals besides the Scapular?

A. The sign of the Cross is the chief sacramental used in the Church, besides which we have holy water, blessed candles, ashes, palms, crucifixes, and images of the Blessed Virgin and of the saints, the Rosary, and Miraculous Medal.

Q. Why do we call it a Scapular?

A. The word “Scapular” comes from the Latin word “scapulae” meaning “shoulders.” The Scapular is actually a miniature form of a monk’s habit by the same name which is a sleeveless outer garment falling from the shoulders to the feet.

Q. Why do we wear the Scapular?

A. We wear the Scapular to indicate that we place ourselves under the special protection of the Blessed Virgin. We can tell to what army or nation a soldier belongs by the uniform he wears; so we can consider the Scapular as the particular uniform of those who desire to serve the Blessed Virgin in some special manner.

Q. May a non-Catholic wear the Scapular?

A. By all means—non-Catholics may wear the Scapular, and by so doing, will draw down upon their souls much actual grace from Heaven. Our Lady, as a good Mother will bring conversions to those who honor Her by wearing Her Scapular.

Q. Must the Scapular be blessed before wearing it?

A. The first Scapular to be worn must be blessed and imposed by a Priest using the formula contained in the Roman ritual for reception into the Confraternity of the Scapular.

Q. What are the words used by the priest when enrolling a person in the Brown Scapular?

A. The words used by the priest when enrolling a person in the Confraternity of the Scapular are as follows:

“Receive this blessed habit; praying the most holy Virgin, that by Her merits thou mayest wear it without stain; and that She may guard thee from all evil and bring thee to life everlasting. R. Amen.

By the power granted me, I admit thee to the participation of all the spiritual good works, which through the gracious help of Jesus Christ are performed by the religious of Mount Carmel. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. R. Amen.

May the Creator of Heaven and earth, Almighty God, bless thee; Who hath deigned to unite thee to the confraternity of the Blessed Virgin Mary of Mount Carmel. We beseech Her, in the hour of thy death, to crush the head of the old serpent; so that thou mayest in the end win the everlasting palm and crown of the heavenly inheritance. Through Christ Our Lord. R. Amen.”

Q. Would there be a sin if one ceased to wear the Scapular after having received it?

A. No, it would not be a sin, but by so doing, one would lose all the benefits promised. If, having ceased to wear the Scapular, even for several years, one should decide to wear it once again, no new ceremony of imposition is necessary.

Q. After having received the initial Scapular from a priest do subsequent Scapulars need to be blessed? A. No, subsequent Scapulars need not be blessed as the blessing and imposition are attached to the wearer for life.

Q. What should be done with the Scapular when it is worn out?

A. The Scapular, being a sacred object, when it becomes worn out must be either buried or burned. It should not be disposed of in the regular garbage.

Q. What is the Sabbatine Privilege?

A. The Sabbatine Privilege consists essentially in the early liberation from Purgatory through the special intercession of Mary, which She graciously exercises in favor of Her devoted servants . . . on the day consecrated to Her, Saturday.

Q. What are the requirements to make oneself eligible for the Sabbatine Privilege?

A. There are three conditions for the gaining of the Sabbatine Privilege. They are:

(1) We must WEAR THE SCAPULAR.

(2) OBSERVE CHASTITY according to our state in life.

(3) RECITE THE LITTLE OFFICE OF OUR BLESSED MOTHER (The Rosary or some other pious work can be substituted for the Office of Our Lady. The faculty to sanction this change was granted to ALL CONFESSORS by Pope Leo XIII in the Decree of the Congregation of Indulgences in June of 1901).

The Promise of Our Lady

Our Lady Herself has said, “Take this Scapular. Whosoever dies wearing it shall not suffer eternal fire. It shall be a sign of salvation, a protection in danger, and a pledge of peace.”

Holy Virgin of Mount Carmel, Our Lady of the Scapular, pray for us!

RECOMMENDATION TO ONE”S GUARDIAN ANGEL FOR A HAPPY HOUR OF DEATH BY ST. CHARLES BORROMEO

My good Angel: I know not when or how I shall die. It is possible I may be carried off suddenly, and that before my last sigh I may be deprived of all intelligence. Yet how many things I would wish to say to God on the threshold of eternity. In the full freedom of my will today, I come to charge you to speak for me at that fearful moment. You will say to Him, then, O my good Angel:

That I wish to die in the Roman Catholic Apostolic Church in which all the saints since Jesus Christ have died, and out of which there is no salvation.

That I ask the grace of sharing in the infinite merits of my Redeemer and that I desire to die in pressing to my lips the cross that was bathed in His Blood!

That I detest my sins because they displease Him, and that I pardon through love of Him all my enemies as I wish myself to be pardoned.

That I die willingly because He orders it and that I throw myself with confidence into His adorable Heart awaiting all His Mercy.

That in my inexpressible desire to go to Heaven I am disposed to suffer everything it may please His sovereign Justice to inflict on me.

That I love Him before all things, above all things and for His own sake; that I wish and hope to love Him with the Elect, His Angels and the Blessed Mother during all Eternity.

Do not refuse, O my Angel, to be my interpreter with God, and to protest to Him that these are my sentiments and my will. Amen.

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Gethsemane

BY FR. PICHON S.J

INDEX

THE TRUE LESSONS FOR US OF THE SUFFERINGS OF OUR LORD IN THE GARDEN OF OLIVES

Let us consider the Passion of Our Lord, His supreme Passion, which took place in the Garden of Olives. There He endured a Passion of the Heart, of Love spurned, rejected, betrayed. All the tortures that He endured after that-the outrages, the brutality of which He was the object when He was delivered over to the executioners- all of that was little compared to what He suffered in Gethsemane.

It seems that Our Lord willed to pass through all the phases of suffering. Through His martyrdom, He willed to take to Himself all the sharpest elements in suffering, and thus in some mystic way to alleviate our sufferings. The soul experiences, in suffering, three bitter griefs, swords that pierce the heart through and through. We feel that we suffer alone; that our sufferings are valueless, without merit; and finally, that they are, in some way, culpable. These are the three martyrdoms that render our sufferings doubly painful.

First, it seems to us that we suffer alone. “If only I could know that I do not suffer alone.” “I feel myself so isolated in my anguish.” “It seems to me that I am the only one to taste such bitterness.” “Alas, my sorrow must not spring from a good source.”

The enemy of our soul, jealous of the glory we render to God through suffering, tries to render it insupportable to us by making us believe that our sufferings are sterile, that we suffer without merit. It is this aspect that causes us to feel our pain so intensely that it throws us into a profound bitterness, a kind of despair. “If I knew that through these pangs I were purchasing at least one soul, I should bless my anguish. I should be content to suffer. But what breaks my heart is that I can perceive no fruit to be gathered from my trials. They appear to be sterile.”

There is a third pain, even more bitter than the two preceding ones. Not only do we believe ourselves to be suffering alone and without merit, but it appears to us that, instead of meriting, we are actually offending God.

Our sufferings appear to have resulted from our defects and are, therefore, culpable.

There arises within our hearts an accumulation of things that trouble our peace, our security as God’s dear children.

But we never suffer alone. Our sufferings are never sterile. Above all, our sufferings are never culpable.

I do not want to exaggerate. Is it that in our sufferings we may not offend God by a lack of resignation, of patience, or by some other venial faults of that kind, arising from the very excess of our pain? I claim that there is very much less of this than is commonly thought. It may even be that we lose some merits, but how far does the indubitable gain compensate for the loss? How many good persons cover themselves with reproaches, distressing themselves unduly, over having felt a certain repugnance to their trials?

Oh, how I love these words of a saint: “The cross never appears in a life without leaving there some good.” He did not say, “The cross, well-accepted, carried joyously by a generous heart.” No, every cross leaves benign traces in a life, even-and I shall go so far as to say, above all-a cross meagerly, miserably accepted.

Our Lord, who gives individual care to each soul, says to Himself: “From every possible consideration, this soul is about to acquire more merits, make more progress, glorify Me more, if I send him this trial. It will be profitable to him. “The hour, then, for suffering has arrived. It is the hour of salvation.

Let us ask of the Holy Spirit that we may fully understand this page-admirable, sublime, incomparable-in which He Himself dictates all the passages. Wonderful page, capable of furnishing a balm for all wounds, a remedy and a consolation for all who suffer! I admit that before I came to understand this, suffering was, for me, a mystery.

Jesus then went toward the Garden of Olives. On the way He felt Himself invaded by a profound, heartbreaking sadness which enveloped His whole being. It was a sadness that all His courage could not throw off and that wrested from Him this plaint: “My soul is sorrowful unto death.” This was not a vain expression, a rhetorical exaggeration.

How strangely did I once misunderstand this scene! I should have imagined that, like the first martyrs, He would have gone into the midst of tortures singing, that He would have been joyous in the midst of His trials, of His incredible sufferings!

Our Lord did not sing. He was not overwhelmed with joy. He was not full of happiness. On the contrary, He was overcome with sadness to the point that His terrible agony wrested from Him this cry: “My soul is sorrowful unto death, even to die of grief.”

Ah, when I behold the martyrs throw themselves, singing, upon the instruments of torture, kissing the instruments of their death; when I see them call their executioners, their benefactors, and express gratitude to those who persecute them, I can see clearly what they suffered in their bodies, but I do not see what they suffered in their souls. Their souls were in perfect serenity. Their souls already tasted heaven through anticipation. Their interior joy rendered them insensible to their physical torments.

The martyrs endured torture in their bodies. Jesus, King of Martyrs, willed to be martyrs in His soul. My divine King did not sing in going to His martyrdom. His Heart was stricken. His soul was sad, sad unto death.

Oh, my soul, why then reproach me for my sorrow? Why are you so severe toward me? Why do you demand that I suffer with joy, when God permits suffering to invade me, to overwhelm me? Our Lord endured sorrow before I did, and more than I ever have, or ever shall, yet His sufferings were good, meritorious. Ah, then, in my grief I can present myself to Jesus, kneel beside Him in Gethsemane, unite my pain to that of His Heart. No, I am not alone when I suffer with overwhelming sorrow. Jesus suffers with me.

The Holy Spirit emphasises another detail: Our Lord commenced to be afraid. How is that? Our Lord afraid? Of what? Of His bitter chalice, of His Passion, of His cross, of the will of His Father? It was necessary that He drain His chalice to the last drop, yet He was afraid.

Do I still dare to believe that a generous soul must never quail before suffering? Do I believe that we must always look upon it with joy? Go out to meet it? Oh, my soul, why do you reproach me for my fears, my apprehensions? Even when I tremble before trials, even when the sight of the cross fills me with fear, I can still present myself at Gethsemane, can kneel beside Jesus and offer my sufferings to God for His glory and my salvation. His Divine Son suffered even as I do. How good was Our Lord in revealing to us the merits hidden even in sufferings that appear to us as paltry, unimportant!

But the Holy Spirit reveals to us a third suffering of Jesus, even more astonishing. Our Lord began to fear and to be troubled. “Troubled”? Is not trouble the emotion of a soul that is not entirely sure of itself, which is no longer master of itself? Is it not the emotion of a soul that is disturbed, disquieted? That no longer possesses itself in peace? A generous soul permits itself to be troubled? Should it not rather await, with a collected and firm mind, whatever the will of God provides? Oh, my soul, why reproach me for being troubled? Why represent it as a moral defection? Jesus was even more troubled than I.

Yes, even when I am worried, troubled, I can go to Gethsemane. I can prostrate myself at the side of Jesus and offer my troubles to God. He will accept them. I suffer, then, as did my divine Model.

A note even more surprising is added to this score: Our Lord commenced to experience repugnance. He began to fear and to be heavy. Repugnance? Is not that the point at which we commence to abandon everything? Does not aversion amount to repulsion, and that to a high degree? Repugnance, and of what? Of His Passion. Of all that was mast holy in the will of His Father. His repugnance was so profound that He was almost overcome by it. He could hardly control Himself.

Oh, my soul, why reproach me for my repugnances? Jesus suffered from repugnance of His sufferings before I did, and more than I ever have. You will that I love suffering? Jesus did not love it. He did not feel any attraction for suffering. On the contrary, it inspired him with fear, with sorrow, with repugnance. In the midst of my own repugnances of all kinds, I can still prostrate myself at Gethsemane and offer to God those pains that devour my heart it was thus that His Divine Son suffered.

The Gospel says then that He commenced to fear. Fear? Is not that a cowardly sentiment, small, miserable, despicable? Is not that the sentiment of a soul which feels itself to be weakening, which sees its courage evaporating? Fear? Is not that the feeling of a soul that asks itself a second later if it can still hold out, still consent to suffer?

Our Lord was fearful, and of what? Of what was to Him most sacred and most holy: He feared His mission, His vocation of redemption.

Oh, my soul, why do you reproach me for being fearful? Jesus was fearful before ever I was, and even more than I, yet He is my model in suffering.

Even, then, in the midst of my fears, even while I feel myself to be so poor, so weak, in my discouragements, in my despairs, I can go to Gethsemane. I can kneel by the side of Jesus and offer my sufferings to God, who will receive them favourably for they resemble the sufferings of His Son.

To suffer generously, I once believed, was to suffer with a courage that never winces. I thought it meant to go to meet suffering, to hold out my arms to it. Now I understand that we can suffer just as generously, yet suffer with sorrow, fear, worry, repugnance, that we can suffer miserably.

When, in the midst of suffering, we feel our heart to be resigned, generous, it is to be feared that self-love is taking its toll. But to suffer without realizing that one is suffering well, to suffer with all the sorrow and discouragement which lead one to believe that all merit is lost, that we are even offending God with our lack of generosity, this is to suffer without any consolation. This is pure suffering. When a soul is conscious of its generosity, can testify that it is fully resigned to the will of God, its sorrows are softened. But to suffer in such an interior confusion that no lustre issues from the suffering, when one fears one’s pains are sterile-ah, that is suffering par excellence. It is that of Our Lord in the Garden of Olives.

Let us accompany Our Lord further in the Passion of His Heart, and we shall find more precious lessons. When Our Lord arrived in the Garden of Olives, He knew that His agony was about to begin, and He took with Him three apostles, Peter, James, and John, the identical three who had accompanied Him to Thabor. He did not wish to be alone in His sorrow. He longed to have near Him hearts that would sympathise and console Him. He was begging, wordlessly, for a little consolation. “Watch ye, therefore, and pray with Me.” I have encountered critics who declare that in order to merit, we should refuse all aid, all consolation. They forbid the seeking of a little support, a little spiritual comfort, lest all merit be lost.

Was not Our Lord a martyr to grief? Yet He sought consolation. It is true that Our Lord’s attempt was a failure. He came to His disciples and found them sleeping. He returned to His prayer, then came a second time to seek a little consolation from His apostles, whom, only an hour before, He had called His “friends.” I have, therefore, the right to go to a friend in whom I can confide, or to a superior, that I might find some comfort in his sympathy, his counsel. I have the right to seek out my spiritual director. He will have precious words to offer me, words of life that will help me. I have the privilege of seeking to open my heart to those who have the right to console, to aid me. This does not mean that I lose the merit of suffering.

Our Lord fell to His knees; He began to pray. A strange prayer! Do I hear it aright? “My Father, if it be possible, remove this chalice from Me!”

But, oh, my good Master, this chalice is the will of Your Father! This chalice, if You drain it, means our salvation. You came into the world to drink this chalice; it is Your vocation. And You refuse it? You ask that it be withdrawn from Your lips? “Father, if it be possible, remove this chalice from Me!” Our Lord is the model of all generosity. Yet, in spite of this, His poor human Heart refused to suffer.

Oh, my soul, why do you afflict me? Why do you reproach me because at the foot of the tabernacle I, too, have said, “Lord, if it be possible, remove this trial from me; let this suffering be softened. If it be possible, let the designs of Your providence be changed. If it be possible, remove this cup from my lips.”

It is true that Our Lord added: “Not My will, but Thine be done.” But after having made this act of resignation, He seemed to retract it and to begin again His former prayer: “Father, if it be possible, remove this chalice from Me.” And for two whole hours He was hard pressed to say: “Thy will be done.”

My dear friends, you, too, have sometimes come to the foot of the altar to protest to the Lord that you accept a certain trial. An hour later, you are surprised to find yourself saying: “My God, if it be possible, remove this cup from me.” There were within the Heart of Jesus identical motions of acceptance and refusal, of resignation and repugnance. Our Lord had His interior conflicts. We can well have our own.

The last prayer of Jesus, that which terminated these alternations of resignation and acceptance, was, “Father, not My will, but Thine be done.”

Do you grasp the full significance of these words? I do not know in all the Gospel any words so human, that so bring Our Lord down to our own stature. Do you grasp their full meaning?

Our Lord did not say, “Father, I will what You will. My will is Your will.” No, just the contrary was their significance. “Father, do not ask Me to will what You will. Everything within Me is repugnant to suffering.

This is all that I can bring Myself to say, ‘Our two wills are not in accord, but since one must be sacrificed, let it be Mine-let Your will be done, not Mine.”‘

How good of Our Lord to make of Himself a model for our weakness to copy, and to give us, in His Person, so many motives for encouragement, making it easy for us to imitate Him. He repeats the same lessons over and over, bringing them down to our measure. He permits us to read within His Heart so many lessons of the very essence of divine wisdom, of charity.

Thus it seems to me that I can present myself to Your will, Oh my God, and say in the simplicity of my heart, “My God, our two wills are not in accord, but carry out Your will. Close Your ears to my groans, to my complaints, to my reproaches.”

Our Lord, after this prayer, after this resistance to suffering, felt His strength failing. He fell, His face to the earth. A bloody sweat poured from His Body, running down to the earth. He fell in an agony.

There are severe, austere directors, who say to a poor soul, “What? You think that your health is injured by your moral sufferings? You have became ill? Why, you lack moral strength, energy, generosity. Had you been more resigned to God’s will your health would have held up.” Did Our Lord act so? Is it that He was not generous? He, the model of all generosity? He finally became exhausted, threw Himself down upon the earth, sweated blood through all the pores of His sacred Body. If He experienced such weakness, so can I.

An angel came from heaven to comfort, to sustain Him. When God sends an angel to comfort me-an understanding friend, a confessor-I reproach myself for having accepted consolation, for not having rejected the aid of an angel. I believe myself to have lost all merit through having accepted such consolation. Did Our Lord refuse the angel’s aid? Was it by chance that the angel was sent from Paradise? Did Jesus refuse the help sent Him from His Father? Does perfection consist in refusing the help that comes to us from God? When He sends us an angel, let us know how to profit from the encounter.

Doubtless, there remains a certain balance to observe. But Our Lord has furnished us with the example. “My God, when You send Your angel to me, I shall accept his help. I shall rejoice in his consolations.”

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Go To Joseph!

INDEX

“GO TO JOSEPH!” HAS LONG BEEN A DIRECTIVE OF SAINTS AND POPES, YET HOW MANY OF US DO GO TO JOSEPH? NEXT TO OUR BLESSED MOTHER, THERE IS NO GREATER SAINT BUT, SAD TO SAY, TOO OFTEN WE IGNORE HIM—THIS, IN SPITE OF THE FACT THAT THE CHURCH HAS DEDICATED THE MONTH OF MARCH TO HIM, HAS ESTABLISHED SEVERAL FEASTS IN HIS HONOR, AND HAS PROCLAIMED HIM PATRON OF THE CHURCH, OF THE FAMILY, OF THE WORKER, AND OF THE DYING.

Which of us, therefore, does not need his help? Which of us can afford to ignore him in the difficulties and problems of our lives and at the time of our deaths?

Perhaps we take St. Joseph so much for granted because we rarely stop to think about him and so we do not know him and do not appreciate him. A little thoughtful reading of the Gospels and a little knowledge of the life of his times reveal many things about St. Joseph.

We know that Joseph was a carpenter, a working man, but he was also of the royal lineage of David. Among his ancestors were Abraham and David. If the kingdom of Jerusalem had been established in favor of the Jewish race, Joseph could have been a noble but the descendants of David had become a conquered people, the Jewish throne was destroyed, and so Joseph lost his right to royalty with all of its power, wealth and prestige. Still, God chose him—above all men—to be the Foster-Father of His Divine Son, the King of Kings; to be, after Mary, an effective instrument in the work of the redemption.

Since the all-wise God predestined Joseph to be the head of the Holy Family and the protector of Jesus and Mary, it is beyond question that God must have given him extraordinary graces to be worthy of such a marvelous privilege. In fact, the Gospel speaks of Joseph as “a just man,” i.e., a holy man, a man of outstanding goodness.

Query: Is the example which we give to our family and to others—our speech, our actions and our works—such that we can readily be recognized as “good” Catholics?

Joseph’s role as a common workman and his residence in a small, insignificant village were natural aspects of a hidden, humble life. Humble must have been his unsuccessful seeking of shelter at Bethlehem for the birth of the Holy Infant; and humble, too, must have been his inability to furnish anything but a pair of turtle doves for the offering at the presentation of the Divine Babe at the Temple.

Query: Are we content with our lot in life? Do we refrain from trying to keep-up or out-do “the Joneses?”Do we quietly work in parochial endeavors and apostolic efforts or must we always be in the limelight?

JOSEPH’S obedience to the Will of God is clearly manifested in his quick response to the Angel’s messages to leave Bethlehem and go into the foreign land of Egypt; and later, to leave Egypt and return, not to Bethlehem, but to Nazareth. Joseph’s obedience to the law of his Faith is evidenced in his fulfilling its precepts for the circumcision of the Child, for the presentation of the Holy Infant at the Temple, and for bringing the 12-year-old Jesus to the Temple, according to Jewish custom. And Joseph’s obedience to lawful civil authority is shown in the journey which he and Mary undertook from Nazareth to Bethlehem—this, regardless of the difficulties and the inconvenience that they could have avoided by staying at Nazareth.

Query: Are we truly obedient to the commandments of God and the laws of His Church or do we set forth our own little arguments as excuses for disobeying? Do we obey lawful civil authority?

Though Joseph could not understand how Mary, a professed virgin, could be with child, still he left the anguish of his dilemma up to God. And then when he had almost decided that he must follow the laws of his religion and must “put her away privately,” God solved his problem by sending an angel to tell Joseph not to be concerned for “that which is conceived in her is of the Holy Spirit.”

Query: How deep is our trust in God’s loving providence? Do we turn to Him in sincere, constant prayer for enlightenment and assistance in the problems which confront us? Do we seek solutions based on the teachings of Christ and His Church?

St. Joseph accepted his role as head of the Holy Family, not only in providing for the needs of Jesus and Mary and protecting them through the dangerous flight into Egypt, but also in seeing to it that the “Child advanced in wisdom and in grace.”

According to Jewish law, the father was the first and the official teacher of his children. Just as soon as a child learned to speak, the good Jewish father began his religious instructions. So, the devout Joseph must have taught Jesus the fundamental texts of the Scriptures, as well as the Commandments. He must also have helped the Child memorize psalms for special occasions and prayed along with Him.

Query: Am I a truly Catholic parent? Do I provide not only for the material comfort of my children but also—and with great vigilance—attend to my responsibility in seeing to it that they learn about God and the true doctrines of His Church so that they, too, may “advance in wisdom and grace”?

THE JOURNEY from Nazareth to Bethlehem at a time when Mary expected delivery of the God-child, must have been very difficult and the deep disappointment at being turned away from the inn and other places of shelter must have been heart-breaking to Joseph. The subsequent flight into Egypt and certainly the loss of the Holy Child in Jerusalem must have been frightful trials to Joseph—times requiring great faith and patience, times to pray, to do the best that he could under the circumstances, and to trust in God for deliverance.

Query: How do we react to the anxieties, struggles and sufferings of our daily lives? Do we complain or do we accept them patiently, do the best that we can about them, and turn to God for assistance, according to His Will?

Through the ministry of His angels, God specifically directed and assisted St. Joseph in many of his difficulties. The Gospels relate that an angel appeared to Joseph, relieving him of his anxiety about Mary’s pregnancy; later an angel warned him about the dangers to the life of the Holy Infant; and still later, an angel advised him to take the Child and His mother back into the land of Israel.

Query: Do we recognize the existence of the angels given to us by God to be our special allies against Satan and his cohorts? Among these are the great archangels, Michael, Gabriel and Raphael, as well as our Guardian Angels who are especially assigned to personally protect and assist each one of us. Do we turn to the angels often in prayer?

Joseph spent his adult life serving Jesus and Mary in joy and in sorrow, to the best of his ability. At his death he had the great privilege and consolation of dying in their presence.

Query: Do we live “sin the presence of Jesus and Mary”—in sickness and in health, in sadness and in joy—in a life which will bring us a holy, peaceful death in Their presence and that of St. Joseph?

Throughout the centuries people from all walks in life have revered St. Joseph, sought his help, and received innumerable favors through his intercession. Some were sinners, some were saints, some were popes.

Among the saints was St. Theresa of Avila. This remarkable saint—proclaimed Doctor of the Church by Pope Paul VI on September 27, 1970—attributed the cure of a serious illness to St. Joseph and when she entered the Carmelite Order, she did all that she could to honor him and to foster devotion to him. She wrote many beautiful tributes to him, dedicated 15 of her foundations to him, and ordered that his statue be placed above the doors of her convents.

AMONG the popes especially devoted to St. Joseph was Pius IX. On December 8, 1870 he declared St. Joseph patron of the Universal Church and urged all bishops to spread devotion to the saint. He often spoke of St. Joseph as, after our Blessed Mother, the hope of the Church.

“If Mary and Joseph,” he often said, “find again the place that they never should have lost in men’s hearts, the whole world will be saved. Go to Joseph! Have confidence in him, for his protection as the patron of the Church is most powerful.

CONSECRATION TO ST. JOSEPH

BELOVED Saint Joseph, adopt me as your child, take care of my salvation, watch over me day and night, preserve me from the occasion of sin, obtain for me purity of soul and body! Through your intercession with Jesus grant me a spirit of sacrifice, of humility and self-denial, a great love for Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament, and a tender love for Mary, my Mother.

Saint Joseph, be with me living, be with me dying, and obtain for me a favorable judgment from Jesus, my merciful Savior.

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Our Lady of Good Counsel Pray For Us

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God

REV. FRANCIS J. RIPLEY

INDEX

I BELIEVE IN GOD

How do you think of God? I do not mean of God made Man, Jesus Christ, Our Lord. It is easy enough to think of Him. I mean of God as God, existing for all eternity before He created anything. The great masters, whose works fill the world’s art galleries, seem to have thought of God the Father as an old man with a beard, up in the sky, where the wind always seems strong enough to blow the beard about. You might think of God like that. Or you might think of His eternity like time doing a two-way stretch- going backwards and forwards through ages and ages yet never beginning and never ending. You might think of God as being so big that He not only fills all the space He has created but has no limits of any sort.

The truth is that we just cannot imagine God. Our little minds are imperfect and limited; God is perfect and unlimited. So we cannot comprehend Him for the same reason that we cannot put a ton of coal into a hundredweight bag.

HOW WE KNOW GOD

As Catholics we are bound to believe that God, our Creator and Lord, can be known with certainty by the natural light of reason from created things. I am not going to give you here the proofs that there is a God. Fr Redmond has done that magnificently elsewhere.* I just want to help you to know a little more about God, because the more you know Him the more you will love Him.

The Book of Wisdom tells us that “by the greatness of the beauty and of the creature, the creator of them can be seen” (Wis. 13:5). St Paul said there can be no excuse for those who live like atheists: since the world began, God’s invisible attributes, for example His eternal power and divinity, have been plainly discernible through things which He has made and which everybody sees and knows, so men who live godless and evil lives are without the rag of an excuse (cf Rom. 1:20). The pagans had not the revelation God gave the Jews, but by their conduct they showed that God had written His law in their hearts (Rom. 2:15).

From this we gather that, without any supernatural revelation, the essentials of the law of the Old Testament are known to heathens. There is a law in their hearts—and that means that there is a supreme Lawgiver. It is so easy for men to know of God’s existence from the things about them that some people, amongst them even Catholic theologians, have mistakenly concluded that the idea of God is inborn and not acquired from experience.

In the oath which the Church requires people in certain positions to take against the heresy of Modernism** there is a statement that God’s existence can formally be proved through reason by means of the principle of causality.

What do we mean by the principle of causality? This simple statement: What begins to be has a cause. That is the starting point of St Thomas” arguments for God’s existence. They begin with first principles of reason; they proceed from certain facts, e.g. that nothing within the experience of man can be the cause of itself; they follow the accepted laws of reasoning; therefore, the conclusions are absolutely true. You would be justified in rejecting them only if you could prove that what is called a first principle is not such at all, or what is said to be a fact is not a fact, or if there is some breach of the laws of logic.

It would be against the Church’s teaching to argue that our knowledge of God comes, not from natural reason, but from a primitive revelation by God which has been handed down by tradition.

Agnostics and sceptics maintain that God cannot be known or His existence proved with certainty. Some of them say

*The Existence of God, by Rev. R. P. Redmond D.D. (listed on this site)

** “The synthesis of all heresies” which destroyed many basic Catholic doctrines by trying to reconcile them with modern scientific thought and contending that they are merely products of the subconscious, developed under the stimulus of religious sense. It was condemned by St Pius X. they believe in a Supreme Being, but they “just do not know”. There are too many degrees of these fashionable errors to describe here. The Church condemns them because they are diametrically opposed to the truth of Scripture, tradition and reason.

Can there be a convinced atheist? Yes, because we are members of a fallen race and it is always possible to yield to temptation. In theory and in his own mind a person may succeed in convincing himself that there is no God- but, note this, that does not excuse him. The Church has always taught that a man cannot really believe, without blame, that there is no God because, as St Paul taught, the proofs of God’s existence are too obvious and elementary.

In a book called The Faith, History and Practice of the Church of England (an official correspondence course) Canon Eaton wrote this: “Let us be quite clear at once that we cannot prove the existence of God; and it is no part of the duty of those who teach the Christian Faith to prove- in the strict sense of the word- the existence of God” (p.25). That is heresy. It follows the teaching of Immanuel Kant, the German philosopher who died in 1804 after he had decisively influenced Protestant theology to reject the rational foundation of religion, in favour of the idea that religious truths must be received not by reason but by feeling which demands God.

This has an important practical consequence. Clare Booth Luce explains it. When we are trying to explain our Faith to a Protestant she says we must remember:

“First, that where religion is concerned the average non-Catholic seldom uses his mind. Second, that the heart is the main organ with which he approaches questions of Faith. Third, that in order to make the non-Catholic bring his mind to bear on religious truth, the Catholic has not to use both mind and heart . . . To him (the non-Catholic) what feels right is right. What appeals to his emotions as true is true. His religion has become a throb in his breast, a lump in his throat, a twinge of his conscience, a hunger of his spirit, but a vacuumin his head”. (Bringing Souls to Christ, pp.21–22.)

“I believe in God”, we say in the Apostles” Creed. Theologians discuss whether one and the same person can at the same time have knowledge and faith in God’s existence. St Bonaventure and St Albert the Great taught that he can; St Thomas Aquinas disagreed with them. But he did teach that the same person at the same time can know God naturally as the originator of the natural order but believe in Him supernaturally as the originator of the supernatural order. What is of Faith is that God’s existence is not only something we know by reason but is also something we believe with supernatural faith. St Paul taught that without faith it is impossible to please God and that before we approach Him we must have faith in two things—“that He is; and that He is a rewarder to them that seek Him” (Heb. 11:6).

We do not know God in this world immediately, directly, without analysis or reasoning (apart from a special revelation); we know Him only through the medium of what He has created. St Paul said that God dwells in”light inaccessible; whom no one hath seen nor can see” (1 Tim. 6:16). Moreover, when we think of God we can only do so by means of our natural ideas. We know that what is created must bear the stamp of the Maker. So we look around and see what God has made. “Nobody can give what he has not got”, we say, “therefore, if I see any perfections in creatures I know God must have those perfections. In creatures they are limited; in God they have no limit.” On the other hand, if I find any blemishes in created things, I say: “That cannot be in God because He is infinite perfection.’ For example, there can be no limits in God and no parts.” We must never forget that the gap between our human ideas and God is not only great, it cannot be measured; it is infinite. “Say we much as we will, of what needs to be said our words come short; be this the sum of all our saying, He is in all things. To what end is all our boasting? He, the Almighty, is high above all that He has made; He, the Lord, is terrible and great beyond compare, and His power is wonderful. Glorify Him as best you may, glory is still lacking, such is the marvel of His greatness; praise Him and extol Him as you will, He is beyond all praising; summon all your strength the better to exalt His name, untiring still, and you shall not reach your goal. Who can tell us what He is from sight seen of Him? Who can magnify His eternal being? Much more lies beyond our ken; only the fringe of creation meets our view; and of all things the Lord is maker” (Ecclus. 43:29–36).

We can never fully understand God: “How incomprehensible are His judgments, and how unsearchable His ways” (Rom. 11:33). Only God knows God fully; for the infinite Being can be fully known only by an infinite intellect. Nevertheless, such knowledge as we have of God from what He has revealed and what we discover in His creation is true. God really possesses the perfections we say He has, even though we know Him only from comparison with created things. Our ideas of Him are infinitely less than the reality, but they are true. The blessed in heaven know God immediately, directly and supernaturally, but not fully. There is a boundless abyss between God and creation; even our Blessed Lady is a creature and, therefore, as Queen of Heaven she cannot fully comprehend the Godhead. She and the Saints do not have to reason about God as we do, but their ideas of Him are limited.

GOD’S NAME

If we cannot adequately comprehend the nature of God, we cannot find a perfect name for It. That is why the Fathers of theChurch called Him “inexpressible”. When the Bible seems to give names to God they apply primarily to Him as He is seen to be doing things. So, if it is describing God’s relation to the world, it might call Him “The Strong”, “The Powerful”, “The Lord”, “The Judge”. When it thinks rather in terms of God’s perfections in His own Being it names Him “The Mighty One”, “The Highest”, “The Holy”.

But God has one real name—Jahweh. It is the name He gave Himself when He spoke to Moses from the burning bush: “I am who am” (Exod. 3:14). It means “HE IS”. Our Lord claimed this title when He said: “Before Abraham came to be, I AM” (John 8:58). But He taught us to address God by that term of love, “Our Father”.

That does not mean that when we contemplate God we should not think of Him as what He is, absolute Being or subsisting Being Itself. He is the reason for His existence; He cannot owe it to anything else. Existence tells us that a thing is, while nature tells us what a thing is. Creatures may or may not exist; God must exist; He cannot not exist. Creatures can have existence; God is existence. His nature commands existence; it is such that He must exist. You cannot separate God and His existence; He and His existence are identical. All other things exist because they receive existence. In many cases we know that from our own experience. It is not so with God. He does not receive existence, because He is existence. In Himself is the reason why He exists. He is BEING, perfect, limitless, infinite, subsistent Being. The philosophers had a Latin term for Him: Ipsum Esse Subsistens. This distinguishes Him fundamentally from all creatures. At the same time, it is the root from which we rightly come to think about all the other perfections of the Godhead.

Let us think now about the attributes of God. We read about His absolute perfection, His infinity, His simplicity, His oneness, His truth, His goodness, His changelessness, His eternity, His immensity, and so on. Can we discover much about them?

Attributes are properties. As we have seen, we can only think of God by comparing Him with creatures St Paul says we know only in part (1 Cor. 13:9). All our concepts are inadequate. Using this imperfect way of thinking, we see these properties as belonging to God’s Being. Really they are His Being, all of them, and they are identical with one another. It is an imperfection to be made of parts. In the words of St Augustine: “What God has, that He is”. Yet, as we shall see, Holy Scripture vouches for many attributes in God; the distinction between them is not only in our minds. God is the primary author of the Bible; if He tells us that He has these attributes we must believe Him. He is Good, He is Love, and so on. These attributes are not just words all meaning the same thing. As St Thomas Aquinas wrote:”If all names applied to God mean the same, we cannot properly say “Good God” or the like, and yet it is written, “O most mighty, great and powerful, the Lord of Hosts is thy name” (Jer. 32:18). These names spoken of God do not all mean the same. ., they indicate the divine substance, but in an imperfect way . . . they have diverse meanings. Although the names applied to God mean one thing, they mean that one thing under many and different aspects; therefore they do not all mean exactly the same.”

GOD IS PERFECT

God is absolutely perfect. What do we mean by perfection? Think of yourself: you are perfect if you lack nothing which you, a human being, should possess. There is a standard by which your perfection is judged. Your perfection is relative to it. In contrast to this is absolute perfection which unites in itself every possible perfection and excludes every possible deficiency. Our Lord said, “Your heavenly Father is perfect” (Matt. 5:48). The Bible tells us that God is entirely self-sufficient and independent of all other substances; therefore He is perfect. So, “Who hath known the mind of the Lord? Or who hath been His counsellor? Or who hath first given to Him, and recompense shall be made to him? For of Him, and by Him, and in Him areall things” (Rom. 11 :34–35).Also, that He possesses all perfections: “He is all” (Ecclus. 43:29 . . . Is. 40:13). Christian writers through the ages base God’s absolute perfection on the infinite fullness of His being. St Thomas says that, as the first Cause of all created things, He virtually contains in Himself all their perfection: He includes in Himself every being and every perfection.

God is actually infinite in every perfection. The infinite has no end nor bound. There is nothing which can limit or bound perfect being. So, to quote St Gregory of Nyssa, God is “in every way without limit”. “Of His wisdom there is no measure; of His greatness there is no end” (Ps. 146:5; 144:3).

GOD IS INDIVISIBLE

God is absolutely simple. Simplicity here has a technical meaning-that which is not made of parts, composed, or divisible. God is a pure Spirit; He has no body nor a composition of body and spirit. The Old Testament speaks of God in a human way, as if He had a body, but it asserts that He is the supreme Ruler over matter (Is. 40:18). The New Testament asserts simply, “God is a spirit” (John 4:24), and “The Lord is a spirit” (2 Cor. 3:17).

The Nicene Creed teaches that there is only one God. It is a basic doctrine of the Old Testament and the New, repeated so often that it is necessary to quote only a few of the more obvious texts:

“The Lord He is God in heaven above, and in the earth beneath, and there is no other” (Deut. 4:39).

“Hear, O Israel, the Lord our God is one Lord” (Deut. 6:4).

“There is no other God but Thou” (Wis. 12:13).

“Jesus answered him: The first commandment of all is, Hear, O Israel; the Lord thy God is one God” (Mk. 12:29).

“There is no God but one” (1 Cor. 8:4).

“One God and Father of all, who is above all, and through all, and in us all” (Eph. 4:6).

“There is one God” (1 Tim. 2:5).

GOD IS TRUTH

God’s Being is Truth in the sense that He alone, being the sole infinite Being, corresponds to the idea of God. “The Lord is the true God” (Jer. 10:10). Our Lord’s definition of eternal life was that “they may know Thee, the only true God, and Jesus Christ, whom Thou hast sent” (cf. 1 Thess. 1:9) (In. 17:3).

God’s power of knowledge is infinite. This is another aspect of His truth. In Him there is infinitely perfect agreement between thought and things. He knows His own divine being; in that way He knows all created things in their origin. He who knows (God) is identical with what He knows (God) and with the act of knowing (God). So there can be no error in Him; He can neither deceive nor be deceived.

“Of His wisdom there is no end” (Ps. 146:5).

“He knoweth the secrets of the heart” (Ps. 43:22).

“The Lord knoweth the thoughts of men” (Ps. 93:11).

You will remember the beautiful passage from the beginning of the 138th Psalm:

“Lord, Thou searchest me and knowest me; Thou knowest me when I sit down and when I rise up. Thou discernest my thoughts from afar; when I walk and when I lie down Thou dost behold and Thou givest heed to all my ways. When a word is not yet on my tongue, behold, O Lord, Thou knowest all. From behind and from before Thou dost understand me, and Thou layest Thy hand upon me. Thy knowledge is too wonderful and sublime for me: I cannot grasp it” (vv. 1–6).

The whole psalm is a beautiful meditation on God’s knowledge, omnipresence and power.

Truth includes veracity, that is, agreementof what one says with what is in one’s mind. The Holy Spirit thought it necessary to emphasize that God cannot be responsible for untruth. Our Lord told the Jews: “He that sent me is true: and the things I have heard from Him, these same I speak to the world” (In. 8:26). To Titus St Paul wrote of “God who lieth not” (1:2). “It is impossible for God to lie”, says the author of the Epistle to the Hebrews (Heb. 6:18).

Another aspect of truth is fidelity. We are all only too familiar with the person who has high ideals but fails to live up to them or whose actions are not in accordance with his fine protestations. Faithfulness means agreement of action with speech. In God it is absolutely perfect. “The Lord is faithful in all His works” (Ps. 144:13). If we play God false, St Paul says, “He continueth faithful” because He cannot deny His own nature (2 Tim. 2:13). Our Lord, God incarnate, claimed the same fidelity: “Heaven and earth shall pass away, but My words shall not pass away” (Matt 24:35),”Heaven” meaning simply the firmament.

GOD IS GOODNESS

God is absolute Goodness in Himself and in relation to others. He is all good, the origin of all created things and all created goodness. As is the case with all the attributes we are considering, there is an unbridgeable, infinite gap between created goodness and God. His Being, and only His, is goodness without limit: “None is good but God alone” (Lk. 18:9). The goodness of creatures is given to them by the Creator: “Every creature of God is good” (1 Tim. 4:4). When we think of God knowing His own goodness, which is Himself, and loving it, we see how the Fathers came to write so often of the infinite bliss of God as He enjoys the possession of Himself.

Holiness is moral goodness or goodness of behaviour. It seems impudent to speak of this in connection with God, for He is not merely holy (as an adjective), but holiness (as a substance). His will is the ultimate standard, the final criterion, of all behaviour. He is intrinsically, by His very Being, incapable of wrongdoing. “God is faithful and without any iniquity” (Deut. 32:4) (cf Pss. 5:5; 76:14; 70:22; 77:41, etc.).

We may even think of God’s kindness. He has overwhelmed all His creation with countless proofs of kindness. By creating things He enables them to share in His goodness; He proves His goodness, too, by preserving what He has made, governing everything by His providence, redeeming those who would otherwise have been lost for ever and going to endless lengths, even dying in torment, to make men holy. Our Lord emphasized all this so often in His instructions. Remember His words in the Sermon on the Mount:

“Behold the birds of the air, for they neither sow, nor do they reap, nor gather into barns; and your heavenly Father feedeth them. Are not you of much more value than they?” . . . (Matt. 6: 26 If.).

“The Lord is faithful in all His words and holy in all His works. The Lord lifteth up all that fall; and setteth up all that are cast down. The eyes of all hope in Thee, O Lord; and Thou givest them meat in due season. Thou openest Thy hand; and fillest with blessing every living creature” . . . (Ps. 144:13 if.).

“God so loved the world as to give His only begotten Son” (John 3:16).

“He that spared not His own Son but delivered Him up for us all, how hath He not also, with Him, given us all things?” (Rom. 8:32).

What can we say about God’s Beauty beyond the fact that it is absolute? He is not just beautiful: He is Beauty. It is so excelling that it encompasses and immeasurably surpasses all other beauty. St Thomas maintained that beauty included three conditions: (1) Integrity or perfection; (2) Proportion or harmony; (3) Brightness or clarity. It is not difficult to see that God is each of them to an infinite degree. Having written of the fire, the wind, the nimble air, the wheeling stars, the tempestuous waves, the sun and the moon, the Wise Man asks: “What of Him who is master of them all; what excellence must be His, the author of all beauty?” (Wis. 13:1–3). Beauty is described as God’s escort and His clothing (Pss. 95:6; 103:1).

GOD IS UNCHANGEABLE

God is absolutely unchangeable. Change means going from one condition to another. That God cannot do this is stated in the original Nicene Creed (A.D. 325), which condemns those who allege that “the Son of God is mutable or subject to change”. Holy Scripture is very clear: “The Father of lights, with whom there is no change nor shadow of alteration” (Jas. 1:17). “Thou shalt abide and all things shall grow old like a garment. Like raiment Thou changest them and They are changed; but Thou art the same and Thy years have no end” (Ps. 101:27–28). (Cf also Mal. 3:6; Heb. 6:17; Is. 46:10; Ps. 32:11.)

Does not God change when, for example, He creates? No. Change implies having something you had not before or losing something you had. A teacher does not lose or gain anything in his nature by giving a lesson; so God neither loses nor gains when He creates. He cannot because, as we have seen, He is infinite Being, incapable of division, of losing or gaining anything. Creation is not a new activity for God. When the universe, wonderful as it is, comes into existence, God does not receive a new perfection. He cannot; He is already absolute Perfection. He simply enters on a new realization of His Will’s eternal resolve. The decree of creation is in fact identical with God’s nature (there are no parts in God), eternal as His Nature is eternal, free as His Will is free, unchangeable as His Being is unchangeable. The same applies to God hearing our prayer and any other appearance of change in Him. God is changelessly whatever He is in any respect. As St Augustine said: ““The Being” is a name which means unchangeableness. For whatever changes ceases to be what it was and begins to be what it was not. The “True Being,” the “Genuine Being,” is possessed only by Him who does not change”.

GOD IS SPACELESS

Nowwe come to consider two of God’s attributes which will help us to understand His nature more clearly—His immensity and His eternity. It will be easier to take immensity first. At once you think of space- and immensity is spacelessness. We are bound to believe that God is immensely or absolute spaceless. We find it in the Athanasian Creed of the 5th or 6th century: “The Father has immensity, the Son has immensity, and the Holy Spirit has immensity. The Father is eternal, the Son is eternal, and the Holy Spirit is eternal. Nevertheless, there are not three eternal beings nor three beings having immensity, but one”.

“If Heaven and the heaven of heavens cannot contain Thee, how much less this house”, prayed Solomon (3 Kings 8:27). “There is only one God who encompasses everything, while He alone cannot be encompassed”, wrote Hermas in the second century.

How is God immense? The thought of your soul’s presence in your body may help. It has no parts; wherever it operates—in your ear or your toe- it is wholly present. So God is whole and entire wherever He is. Really space has nothing to do with immensity. We may imagine God in His creation, but He has no limits. Wherever He is, say in the most inconceivably small point, He is whole and entire, just as if there were no point at all. Of course, He is everywhere present in created space, as the writer of the 138th Psalm so vividly describes and St Paul preached: “God is not far from every one of us; for in Him we live and move and are” (Acts 17:27). He is present by His power, by His knowledge, and by His Being. In all things, even created spiritual beings (angels, devils, and human souls), He is present in His Being, whole and entire.

GOD IS ETERNAL

Apply these same ideas to eternity. Just as you will understand God’s immensity best by stripping it of space, so you will understand His eternity best by stripping it of time. Time has nothing to do with it. God is eternal. The Psalmist tells us He had neither beginning nor end: “Before the mountains were made or the earth and the world were formed; from eternity to eternity thou art God” (Ps. 89:2). But having no beginning nor end is not the essence of eternity. Boethius, who died in 524, gave the classical definition: Aeternitas est interminabilis vitae tota simul et perfecta possessio, Eternity is the perfect possession of unending life all at once. The important words are tota simul, all at once. They mean that God does not have life bit by bit as we do. It is all His in one act. When I began writing this booklet I had not the life that I have now; nor have I now the life I had then. Everything created has life in bits; but in God there are no parts. So He has His life all at once, as an infinitely perfect unchangeable now, with no succession or duration, no past or future, no movement or interruption, no beginning or end. Eternity is not made up of time. That God lives in this constant undivided now is implied in two famous places in Scripture: “Thou art my Son; this day have I begotten Thee” (Ps. 2:7); and Our Lord’s “Before Abraham came to be, I am” (Jn.8:58). St Peter told his new converts never to forget that time is not the same with God as it is with us—to Him a day may be a thousand years and a thousand years only a day (2 Pet. 3:8). St Augustine, for whom eternity was always “the great thought”, wrote: “The eternity of God is His essence itself, which has nothing changeable in it. In it there is nothing past, as if it were no longer, nothing future, as if it had not yet been. In it ther e is only “is” -that is, the present”. (Cf also Rom. 11:33; Ps. 138:6.)

GOD’S KNOWLEDGE AND WILL

God is a living God,said the Vatican Council, following Holy Writ. “In God, life and being are not two different things, but being and life are one and the same”, wrote St Augustine. Knowing and willing are the most perfect forms of life; so we must think a little now about God’s knowledge and His will.

His knowledge is infinite; He is “the Lord of all knowledge” whose wisdom is without measure (1 Kings 2:3; Ps. 146: 5). God has made us who know; therefore He must have knowledge- but whatever God has, He is . . . So He is Knowledge and there is nothing which can limit His knowledge. The indescribable order and purposefulness of the universe demand a Creator of highest intelligence.

When God knows He does not pass from not knowing something to knowing it as we do. He does not know successively, by passing from premises to conclusion or from one thing to another. He knows everything in one single indivisible act. He is Himself knowledge. He completely encompasses His infinite knowledge and in that way fully comprehends Himself, so St Paul could write: “The Spirit searcheth all things, the deep things of God” (1 Cor. 2:10).

It is far beyond the scope of a small booklet like this t o treat exhaustively of God’s knowledge. All I can hope to do is to outline the Church’s teaching. Thus, it is of faith that God knows all that is merely possible (cf Est. 14:14; 1 Cor. 2:10), all real things in the past, the present and the future (cf Ps. 146:4; Ps. 49:11; Job 28:24 if;Ecclus.1:2if; Matt:26if;10:29if; Acts. 15:8; Ps. 7:10; 1 Par. 28:9; Ps. 68:6; Ps. 138:1–6; 3 Kings 8:39), and He also foresees with infallible certainty all the things which angels and men will do freely in the future (cf Ps. 138:3if; John 6:65).

The fact that God knows in advance does not take away our freedom. Here is what St Augustine wrote: “As you through your remembrance do not oblige that which is past to have occurred, so God, through His foreknowledge, does not compel that which shall be in the future to happen”.

It is commonly believed that with infallible certainty God knows the things we might choose to do but might have done under other circumstances. There is an example of this in Our Lord’s words to Corozain and Bethsaida (Matt. 11:21).

The books which have been written about God’s Will fill many libraries. Here are the general principles. The divine will is infinite, the final foundation of all the order in creation and the supreme standard of morality.”Whatsoever the Lord pleases, He does in heaven and on earth, in the sea and in all the deeps” (Ps. 134:6). When He spoke to us during His earthly life He told us to pray: “Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven” (Matt. 6:10).

GOD’S LOVE

God’s affections correspond to His infinite nature. The basic one is love, which is identical with His being: “God is charity” (1 John 4:8). Because of His absolute holiness God hates sin, but there can be in Him no enmity towards the person of the sinner (cf Ps. 5:7; Wis. 11:25). In religious literature other affections are attributed to God- sadness, hope, longing, anger, etc.- but we must understand them as merely human analogous terms, the writers doing their best to describe God with the limited language at their disposal. Anger, for example, cannot be a passion in God like human anger but it is used to express, as we see it, either His hatred of sin, His aversion from (not enmity towards) a sinner, His justice seen as punishing offenders or the results of that justice. Thus sinners are called “children of wrath”, men liable to divine punishment (Eph. 2:3; 1 Thess. 5:9; Rom. 9:22).

Because He is Goodness without limit God is, of His very nature, bound to love first of all Himself. He is the final reason and cause of all He has made: “The Lord hath made all things for Himself” (Prov. 16:4). Freely He brought all creatures into existence; He loves them all in Himself: “Thou lovest all things that are, and hatest none of those things which Thou hast made” (Wis. 11:25). God does not love His creatures because they are good; His love is the cause of their goodness: “In this is charity; not as though we had loved God but because He hath first loved us” (1 John 4:10). Within God love is always infinite but its effect varies according to the lovableness of the creature concerned.

The major question of the relationship of God’s will to evil has been dealt with very fully elsewhere.* All I can say here is that God cannot of Himself desire physical evil for the evil’s sake or as an aim, but He does will physical, natural and punitive evils for the sake of the good which, in His infinite wisdom, He knows will come from them (cf Wis. 1:13 if; Ecclus. 11:14; 39:35; Amos 3:6). God cannot will moral evil, that is sin, in itself or as a means to an end; He permits it because He respects the free will He has given to men and because He has the wisdom and power to draw good out of all evil (cf Ps. 5:5; Ecclus.15:15ff; Gen. 50:20). The hardening of a man in evil, spoken of in Scripture, is a punishment, the withdrawal of grace (cf Exod. 4:21; Rom. 9:18).

GOD IS ALMIGHTY

God is almighty, the Lord of the heavens and of the earth. Practically all the creeds profess their belief in His allpowerfulness. Holy Writ stresses it continuously; it is one of the divine attributes most frequently mentioned. In fact, God is given a special name, El,the Strong One. “I acknowledge that Thou canst do everything and that no purpose can be withholden from Thee”, confessed Job (Job 42:2). Nothing is impossible for God (cfMatt. 19:26; 3:9; Luke 1:37). God’s power is identical with His nature, therefore He cannot do what would be contradictory to His nature. For example, He cannot change, lie, make something that has happened not to happen, or realize what is contradictory in itself (a square circle). There are many possible world orders which God might have made, but He freely chose one from amongst those known to His infinite wisdom. He has, of course, created the best possible world order- His supernatural kingdom. Our present earthly life is a condition for the realization of the perfect life. It is a probation which enables us to attain the perfect life. Suppose this probationary period did not exist, a heaven into which we had been put irrespective of our free wills would not be the best possible world. To live for ever in God’s presence because by His grace we have merited it by using our free will rightly, is more perfect than to possess such a life without having merited it.

God’s dominion is supreme; all creatures must acknowledge it.

In practice that means religion -accepting God’s revelation, keeping His commandments and worshipping Him as well as we can. We must have a reverential fear of God (Jer. 5:22; 10:10); believe that He will keep His promises faithfully (Gen. 17:1 if; 35:llif; Num. 11:23), and trust Him (1 Kings 14:6; Ps. 145:5). Remember how the mother of the Machabees proclaimed her belief in God’s power as she encouraged her youngest son to suffer death rather than give up his faith (2 Mach. 7:28). Our Lord in Gethsemane appealed to the omnipotence of His Father: “Father, all things are possible to thee” (Mk. 14:36; cf Rom. 9:19; Eph. 1:5–13; 3:2).

GOD IS JUSTNESS

God is infinitely just. He is infinite Justness. He rewards good and punishes evil according to merit; He wills that all the requirements of the moral order He has established be fulfilled. He is the ultimate criterion of all justice. We must believe that when God freely created the world He was bound by His infinite wisdom and goodness to give to His creatures all they need to achieve their purpose.

Nowadays there is a tendency to think of punishment only as a means of improving people or of warning them. God’s punishment of sinners is to bring about just retribution for the insult sin offers to Him and the disturbance of the moral order He has set up. On the other hand, it would be wrong to believe that God owes it to His justice never to forgive sin until full atonement has been made. Remember that there is no authority above God; He owes nothing to any other being; He has absolute right to forgive the sins of the repentant sinner, even without any atonement.

*The Problem of Evil, by Rev. M. C. D”Arcy S.J., which the reader is advised to study. (listed on this site.)

GOD IS MERCY

God is infinitely merciful. Mercy may be defined as the property by which God shows His kindness towards men in their sorrows and afflictions and especially towards repentant sinners. Every page of the Scriptures and many prayers of the Church’s liturgy express belief in God’s mercy. In fact, no attribute is more in evidence. Its manifestation reaches a climax in His coming amongst us as man to suffer and die that we might live with Him for ever. The Jews regarded their history as a chain of God’s blessings and favours, proofs of His mercy. They spoke of it as being immeasurably great (e.g. Ps. 50:3), all-embracing (Ps. 144:9), inexhaustible (Ps. 29:6), a free gift (Exod. 33:19), and enduring for ever (1 Par. 16:34; Is. 54:10; Pss. 117; 135). It embraces all men, the just, the suffering, the oppressed, and particularly repentant sinners. In the Gospels Our Lord’s parables, His teaching, His works, and the sacrifice of Himself, are all eloquent testimony of God’s boundless mercy. When He designates God as “the Father of mercies” (2 Cor. 1:3) and as “rich in mercy” (Eph. 2:4), St Paul sums up all the Old Testament had to say about this attribute.

Mercy and justice are wonderfully bound together in God. All His ways “are mercy and truth” (Ps. 24:10). Why does God give us natural and supernatural favours? Because of His love and mercy. He not only rewards and punishes but rewards merit beyond its deserts (Matt. 19:29—a hundredfold) and punishes less than is deserved. St Thomas wrote: “Even in the damnation of the reprobate mercy is seen, which, though it does not totally remit, yet somehow alleviates in punishing short of what is deserved. In the justification of sinners justice is seen, when God remits sins on account of love, although it is He Himself who has mercifully infused that love. So we read of Magdalen: “Many sins are forgiven her because she hath loved much” (Lk. 7:47). Still, even when God forgives, He shows His justice because He demands from the sinner repentance and atonement. The perfect identity of mercy and justice in God finds its climax in Our Lord’s death: “God so loved the world as to give His only begotten Son; that whosoever believeth in Him may not perish, but may have life everlasting . . . Christ Jesus, whom God hath proposed to be a propitiation, through faith in His blood, to the showing of His justice for the remission of former sins, through the forbearance of God, for the showing of His justice in this time; that He himself may be just” (Jn. 3:16; Rom. 3:25).

In the mercy of God we see not only His infinite love and good ness, but also His power and majesty: “Thou hast mercy on all because Thou canst do all things” (Wis. 11:24). The Church which prays, “O God, whose mercy is beyond telling and whose goodness is an infinite treasure”, also prays, “O God, who displayest Thy almighty power chiefly by showing mercy and forbearance”.

Holy Writ reminds us that if we wish to enjoy God’s mercy we must seek it (Deut. 4:29, 31), continue to serve God humbly in time of trouble (Judith 8:1 6ff.), be docile in accepting His punishments (Ecclus. 18:13 if; Prov. 3:11 if.; Ps. 118:73), learn His will, repent of evil and amend our lives (Ps. 50:3, 19; Prov. 28:13; Ecclus. 17:20). Above all, we ought to pray for mercy.

“Withhold not Thy mercies from me, O Lord; may Thy grace and Thy faithfulness guard me always; hear me, O Lord, for Thy mercy is kind; look upon me according to the bounteousness of Thy pity; let Thy mercy be at hand to comfort me; let Thy tender mercies come to me; it is not for our justification that we present our prayers before Thy face, but for the multitude of Thy tender mercies” (Ps. 39:12, 68:17, 118:76; Dan. 9:18).

All that I have written about God emphasizes how utterly wrong is the widespread modern tendency to think of Him as Something rather than as Someone. Elsewhere I have tried to explain how God is not one but three Persons.* If we try to think of Him as infinite personal life, who not only has perfections but is every perfection without limit, and who not only has supreme power over us but loves us with limitless, merciful love far in excess of whatever the human mind can imagine, we shall have little difficulty in falling down in adoration before Him. We must worship Him not primarily for what He has done for us but for what He is in Himself. If, with Francis Thompson, we can pray:

O world invisible, we view thee,

O world intangible, we touch thee,

O world unknowable, we know thee,

Inapprehensible, we clutch thee, we should not forget the parallel picture painted in words the poet attributes to God—My child, give me thy heart!

For I have loved thee with a love

No mortal heart can show;

A love so deep, my saints in heaven

Its depths can never know.

(ADELAIDE PROCTER: Give Me Thy Heart)

*The Blessed Trinity and the Life of the Soul. (listed on this site)

********

God And Evil

JOHN CLAVERHOUSE

INDEX

GOD AND NATURE

We had spent a pleasant day in the hills -my friend Martin and I-and discussed every topic under the sun from sporting results to spiritual realities. He brought me home, at last, to his own house, and we sat out on his verandah in the summer evening. For a time we were silent, both, I think, enjoying the quiet beauty of the hour as we watched the sun sink behind the woods. Then he knocked out his pipe, and turned to me.

“You know, John,” he said, “I”ve heard you argue very co nvincingly about the existence of God-and I”11 admit you have reason on your side. But for a lot of “infidels” like me, the question isn’t whether God exists, but what sort of a Being He is. I know your Christian answer-you say, “He’s good, just, and loving.” Very well, but all I can say is, I see precious little sign of these qualities you attribute to Him in the world around us.”

“You don’t agree with Traherne,” I said-and quoted: ““His goodness is manifest in making and quoted: “His goodness is manifest in making that beauty so delightful and its varieties so profitable, the air to breathe in, the sea for moisture, the earth for fertility, the heavens for influences, the sun for productions, the stars and trees for innumerable uses . . .”

“A lot of hooey,” he answered bluntly. “I agree with Richard Jefferies, who says there is nothing human in nature. Man can wrest a living from it, but it will let him perish from cold or hunger. The sun is merciless to the victim who is dying of thirst in an open boat or in the desert. We are the prey of animals, of one another, of poisons, of diseases- and it would make no difference, so far as our earth is concerned, if we were blotted out in this very hour. The stars would move on and the earth with them, in their appointed courses.

“You say that nature is beautiful- I say that the beauty that exists is often short-lived, and has been bought by ages of waste and destruction in the process of development. And it exists side by side with hideous horror and pain, human pain, animal pain. If your God exists, He must be more like Shiva the Destroyer, whom India worships, than the benevolent Being of Christian dreams. If He were good and almighty, He could have prevented evil; so it seems He is either not almighty-as some modern philosophers hold-or simply indifferent to our moral codes and values.”

“Well, Martin,” I said, “I think you’ve put up a solid case for me to answer. In the first place, no Christian apologist who knows his business will pretend to give a complete solution to the mystery of evil. But what I will say to begin with, is that your solution of an “immoralist” God is untenable. Whatever the answer may be-and there are hints and fragments which suggest a real answer beyond our present reach-that is just impossible.”

“So you say. But what’s wrong with it?”

THE MORAL INSTINCT

“The first thing that’s wrong is your own sense of justice. Why should you regard evil as a “problem” at all, if you are part of a universe in which good and evil are on the same footing? Why should you be indignant about the suffering of the innocent, and the wasting of beauty, and the cruelty and injustice of men?”

“I see your point,” said Martin. “Certainly we do seem to have the idea that the world we live in ought to he good-that eviland waste are disorderly, not part of an ideal system of order. But isn’t that accounted for very simply by the herdinstinct which man has, and which he has developed through ages of education?”

“Sorry, old boy,” I said, “but it won’t work. We have insti ncts for food, sex, parental affection, and so on, that we can all recognise . . and also a herd instinct, and an instinct for selfpreservation. But the moral sense doesn’t work in the least like any of these when it makes judgments of value. As we know of it in our own lives, it stands towards instincts as a player to a piano- urging, but not coercing us-to use one impulse or to restrain another. It can’t, then, be just another note on the piano. It doesn’t always work in the direction of “self-preservation”-or why do we admire and glory selfsacrifice, as we all do, Christians and pagans, when it’s for a cause that we believe to biz worthy? And it doesn’t always work for our own herd-else why are we able to see that unrestrained patriotism can be immoral when it is exerted at the expense of humanity?”

“Well, I suppose the life of the race is what the moral instinct really serves.”

“Yes,” I replied, “but not unconditionally. We recognise a different value in ways of life for mankind-we want to have them”saved” in a different sense from being simply able to feed as well and live as long and as comfortably as possible. We want them to have truth and beauty in their living.”

“But in all this you are describing man’s moral ideas as they have emerged after ages of education in human social convention,” said Martin.

“I don’t think you get me,” I answered. “Of course, everyone has to learn the human way of living and thinking from parents and teachers, and so on; but you can’t work on something that isn’t there-and if there was no moral sense in man to begin with, there could be no moral culture.

“I believe a psycho-analyst once claimed that the “moral experience” had come from a prehistoric man who had killed his father; but if killing his father made him feel guilty, he already had a sense of values. If a sheep or calf or cat killed its father, it wouldn’t have a moral experience about it.”

“REAL” MORALITY AND DIVINE GOODNESS

“Very well, then,” said Martin. “I”11 grant that we have a moral sense, which tells us that good is according to the world order, and evil contrary to it. But the only trouble is that different peoples have quite different ideas about what good and evil are-just as they have different clothes and customs. So how can all this chaos of different codes point towards a Real Morality, or a God who cares for justice?”

“You make too much of the difference, think. All the human moralities agree in the general approval of such things as courage, gratitude, loyalty, and self-restraint. But even if you look at the differences, they testify to the existence of a real standard of value. We say “thin moral idea is an advance on that one.” don’t we? Well, how do we measure them? Obviously. by a “Real Right” which is independent of what people think; a right which is more nearly approached by one code than by another.”

“You made a point there, certainly, and how do you sum up the situation?”

“I conclude thus: that there is in man a valuing sense which is the basis of his moral judgements; that this sense cannot be regarded at a mere animal instinct or an expression of personal will, or a matter of human custom. We cannot think about the world at all without using it constantly, and it tells us that the good and just things ought to be, and that evil and injustice are corrosive blots on the face of the universe, a disturbance of the World Order. If we talk about life in any other way it simply doesn’t make sense.

“If we are not to despair of thought entirely, then, we must admit that this rule of thought corresponds to reality- and it cannot do so if the Power behind reality is evil, or indifferent as between good and evil.”

“In fact, my Shiva is a false god?”

“Yes-in spite of all the sin and evil of the world, God is good.”

THE CASE FOR DUALISM

The afterglow of the sunset was fading, and it began to grow chilly. “What about adjourning to my study?” said Martin. “Martha will have lit the fire by now-and I”ve got some sherry I”d like you to taste. I”ve got warmed up to this business about evil, andI want to get some more points cleared up while we’re on it.”

I assented warmly, and we made our way to a pleasant room, well lined with books, with a glowing fire in the grate. Martin’s big setter, Bruce, got up to offer us a dignified welcome, but quietly settled again when he had been patted on the head. The cat, on the opposite side of the hearth, stretched her claws and yawned, but paid no further attention to us. Martin filled two glasses from a decanter, and invited me to draw my chair up closer to the fire. There was a low table between us on which he placed the wine, so that he could reach it without interrupting our conversation. We sipped-I indicated appreciation-and Martin took up the tale.

“Look here,” he said, “isn’t it conceivable that the ol d Persian idea might be right-that there are two Gods, one good and one bad?”

“I think you’ll find,” I replied, “that the objection to that view is about the same as that against your Shiva-god without morals.”

“How d‘you mean?”

“Well, your two Divine Powers are both in-dependent and everlasting, each equal to the other. One stands for love, the other for hatred; one for justice, the other for injustice, and so on. One is a maker, the other a destroyer. To begin with, it’s difficult to see how either could achieve any creative act, since it would immediately be cancelled by the other. However, letting that pass, let’s return to your own outlook. Have you any doubt about which side you ought to be on?”

“The good God’s, of course.”

“You’re sure it’s not just a matter of personal taste; that every man ought to be on the good side? That the other is wrong?

“Certainly, it’s wrong by definition-since it’s the side of the bad.”

“But don’t you see, Martin, that when you say that, you’re setting up the old standard of value again, a rule which one of your two great spirits conforms to, the other, not? That means that they are both subject to a Higher Law: the law of the Power that made this standard . . . and that Power is good. You can have a rebel angel, or a rebel man, but not a rebel God equal to the good God.”

ALL-POWER AND EVIL

“Very well, then,” said Martin. “I”11 give you that point, too, and we’ll go on to the next. It’s all very well saying that you can’t have an immoral God, or two Gods; but it seems equally absurd to me to suppose an Almighty good God who has created a world full of evil and sin . . . yet that’s how it is, isn’t it?”

“I think the best way I can answer you is to ask you to look rather more closely at the mean ing of two terms you have used- “evil” and “almighty.”

““Evil” isn’t a positive thing, you know-and by that I don’t mean it isn’t real; but that it depends on the goodness it spoils. It means, in the physical order, a deficiency of some sort due to wrong relationship, or to some necessary element of good being lacking. You say “So-andso has an ugly nose.” What do you mean? That its shape, or colour, or size, makes it out of the right order in relation to his face? It is too red, for instance. This strong redness is not bad as a colour; in a flower, or a fruit, it might appear charming, but not in a nose.

Similar reflections might be made if it is thick, or long, or turned up.

“Again, when you say a man is hungry, or starving, you mean his body is suffering from not having something it needs. The hunger exists in virtue of the good body which it ravages. And so you can go on. Sickness happens when germs get into what is, for them, the right place, but for us, the wrong one-or when growth takes place where it shouldn’t or doesn’t where it should-or in cases where some gland secretes too little or too much-or, finally, when your material structure comes up against something in its environment which interferes with its well-being. The germ considered as a living organism, is good, the function of growth is good in itself, glands and their secretions are essential to your bodily well-being, so is the external world of matter. Evil is parasitic on these good things; it arises through the relationship between them; and can have no existence apart from them.”

“Yes, I get that.”

“Well, now; what do you mean by “Almighty” when you’re speaking of God?”

“That He can do anything, of course.”

“Such as making a round-square or a free slave?”

“No-not that.”

“And why not?”

“Those aren’t things to be made-they’re just nonentities-combinations of word which have no meaning . . . it’s not a limitation of God’s power to say that nonsense is nonsense, and that putting “God can” in front of it leaves it still nonsense . . .”

“Well, then, what about miracles-like making an axe-head swim, like in the Old Testament-or removing a mountain, or curing a man instantly?”

“I”m not saying I believe in miracles, but I suppose that’s not the same, is it?. These things are not impossible in themselves, in the same way as nonsense. God could uphold the iron by His power, so that the law of gravitation did not work on it; and he could telescope the process of a cure into an instant, or create new tissues of flesh and bone if wanted. And if a mancan lift and set down a stone, I don’t see why God couldn’t lift and set down a hill-if He chose. I doubt if He would-but that’s an-other thing entirely. . . .”

MAN AND THE WORLD OF NATURE

“All right, then-we’ve got our minds clear, now, about these two points of Almightiness and evil. Let’s see how they affect the created world. God has chosen to create a number of conscious beings who have to live together and communicate with one another; for this to hap-pen they must be able to distinguish each other-that is, they must know themselves from inside and perceive others outside themselves. Now for this to happen, all those who live together must live in a “neutral field”-an external world which provides them with the means of communicating with each other.”

“You mean, if they acted directly on each other, they couldn’t be sure of the difference between their own minds and other people’s?”

“That’s it. Now, with us this field is the world of matter. If, as we Christians hold, there’s an angelic society, they have a quite different kind of field, no doubt; but it fulfils the same function. And when I say it’s “neutral” I mean that we can all use it, but none of us can control it entirely. You can see why. If any one of us had complete power to control the “field,” the rest would have no power over it at all-his full freedom of action would leave none for the rest. This means that the material world if we’re all to live together in it, must have a fixed nature subject to Law.”

“Yes, I think I see that all right.”

“Now, let’s see the result of that. In a material world under law, you can’t have all the states of matter equally agreeable to our minds sad bodies. Fire has a certain nature, which makes it comfortably warm for us here in this room. But that same nature would make it very uncomfortable for us if we went too near it, and would destroy our bodily tissues. In the same way, water can refresh, scald, freeze, or drown; the sun gives life-and death; earth provides food and buries its victims in a landslide. Food and medicine may become deadly if misused. Wood, iron, and explosives are capable of being employed to make weapons for man’s wars, or to serve his peaceful well-being. Again, the arrangement of matter can’t be equally favourable everyone at every moment. A hill means easy walking for down-travellers; weary miles for those moving up. A river is a high-way to one man, an obstacle to another. In other words, a world of constant “natural laws” is necessarily a world where well-being is variable and pain is possible-and, when the creatures dwelling in it have freedom of action of any kind, this means that there will be pain.”

* * *

THE EFFECTS OF FREEDOM

“Very well,” said Martin. “You’ve made your case, I think, so far. “The creation of limited free beings who are to live in company with each other seems to involve the creation, also, of a fixed “field” subject to law, in which they can operate, and from the interaction of these two, pain arises. Right?”

“Right.”

“But I still feel you fail to account for the enormous extent of waste, suffering and misery in the n e e in which both animals and innocent human beings are involved, as well as the guilty. How could a good God allow things to come to such a pass?”

He filled my glass again, and we both sipped meditatively for a time.

“Well,” I answered, “again I must warn you that when all that can be said has been said, the mystery will remain, though the burden of it may be lightened by clearer understanding.

But to begin with, let’s see how far this mass of misery and suffering is connected with human free-will. A virtuous, perfectly social humanity dwelling under our conditions, would still, of course, be subject to the variations of the “field of matter” in which we operate, and open, therefore, to the possibility of pain. But I think you will realise that, as things are, man, not nature, is man’s worst enemy.

“God made man free, and man, as a whole, fails to live up to the law of which all men are aware in some fashion or another. Yet men seek “the good”-for in the moral field as in the material, evil is parasitic-it appears when some particular good is pursued at the cost of the larger good-the general code of right conduct. A man wants power, or pleasure, or security, or easy social relationships, or money-all good things-and he sweeps aside the moral obstacles which stand in his way. In the course of doing so, he also misuses the “field of nature” and injures his fellow men. His misdeeds are like stones thrown in a pool, producing widening rings of evil before their effect is exhausted, both in his own life and in the lives of others. The world in which we live inherits the consequence of accumulated misconduct of this sort-as well as of righteous deeds and lives on the other side-and the innocent are, of course, involved in them. They inherit diseases, due to vice, bad traditions, perverted moral ideas; they are involved in poverty and social degradation, and in the disasters of war, with the famine, pestilence and insecurity that follow in its train. The evils are not their work, but they are the work ultimately of the free humanity to which they belong. God has placed men in a world which contains what is required for their essential well-being-if they are miserable, and injustice prevails, they have no right to ;hake their fists at Him.”

“I don’t follow you there. God made man’s free nature-if it hadn’t been for that there wouldn’t have been all this mess.”

“No-but what would there have been? A world of automata, following the laws of their being mechanically, lifted without any moral effort of their own from earthly to heavenly happiness. Do you think that a “virtue” of this sort is worth comparing for an instant to that which is open to man as the result of God’s gift of freedom-a freedom which enables him to choose to serve his Divine Father, to pursue wisdom and justice, and offer his willing sacrifice to love? He couldn’t possibly do all this without the alternative being open, you know, and the struggle a real one. There might be palms and crowns, but there couldn’t be the victory.”

IS SUFFERING VALUABLE?

“That’s certainly true-but the price is jolly high, you know.”

“It seems to be high, because we’re on the spot where the fight is going on and the rest is out of sight. But there’s another aspect of suffering -especially the suffering of the good. I remember once a friend I had who said-as you did earlier this evening-that he couldn’t believe a good God would allow the innocent to suffer. A bit later on he said that “no one was really understanding or sympathetic who hadn’t suffered. I expect you’ve known virtuous folks who had just that defect. . . . they lived too smoothly. Healthful, useful, nice lives, reasonably prosperous and secure . . . but contrast them with the real saints, who’ve fought with beasts and devils and gone through sweat, blood and tears . . . Suffering makes real men and women.

The true servants of God -even those out-side Christianity-have recognised that if you ore to grow in perfection-that is, in the highest humanity-you must not only learn to endure suffering with fortitude, but you must “Embrace the Cross” as a positive good. I”m not going to pretend that the ordinary Christian gets within “cooee” of this achievement-”grinning hard and bearing it” is about as far as I can reach-and sometimes farther. But you’ve no right to leave out the judgments of these people, who have the highest experience of loving and suffering-or to reject their attitude as “neurotic perversion.” You might just as well reject the higher artistic perceptions of a great poet, or painter, or musician, or the intellectual perceptions of a philosopher, because you don’t happen to share them. It’s significant that it’s not those who serve God best, but those who serve Him only moderately or less than moderately, who make most protest about the “injustice” of the sufferings of the innocent.

“But,” said Martin, “undeserved pain—and deserved pain for that matter-often lead men to lose all faith in

God.”

“That is true,” I said. “It’s especially the ease with those who’ve believed in God vaguely as a benevolent Being, and perhaps even carried out their formal Christian duties, but without ever grasping His reality and demands in a vital way. Suffering experienced-or the sight of horrors endured by others-is a challenge which shatters their illusions, and obliges them to make a real choice of accepting or refusing the Cross. In the same way, it brings the worldly or wicked man “up against” the realities he has ignored or defied. He may accept the chance of amendment-or rebel finally, bitterly and without repentance. By the way, I think in many cases where you talk about “loss of Faith” through suffering, what’s happened isn’t so much a positive loss at that point, but the shock of revelation of a shrine already empty. . . . and that isn’t always a bad thing, ultimately. Knowing something of the truth about one’s self is a first step to Wisdom.” * * *

CHILDREN”S PAIN

“Well, there are still three cases of human evil I want to raise-first, the suffering of children; secondly, the horror of madness and mental deficiency; and finally, the people whose social and moral environment make their perversion inevitable.”

“I must admit,” I said, “that if there’s one thing that haunts me, it’s stories of young chil dren who are lost and perish in the bush, or who are starved to death or have dreadful things done to them by wild animals or evil men, or who suffer horrid disfigurement or pain from diseases. It all seems somorally meaningless. I can’t see, however, how you could have our “free-will” world without the possibility of these crimes; and the misfortunes, again, are inevitable consequences of human nature and its limitation in a world which is under the rule of natural law. Don’t tell me that’s not enough, because I know it isn’t. All I can appeal to is the Christian belief that all innocent suffering has value in atonement for sin, in virtue of the same “solidarity” which makes innocents liable to suffer because of the sins of others-for instance, the children of Germany today. My Faith tells me that these little ones will have their tears dried and will gain added bliss, in eternity, from the knowledge that their guiltless suffering has been worthwhile from the standpoint of God’s Plan. For the rest, I can only adore the mysteries of God’s Providence.

DEFECTIVES AND MADMEN

“Again, I can’t suggest why God should let some human beings be born defective or freaks, any more than why others should die unborn or in infancy. In some cases, the defect may be the fruit of others” sins-in others, there’s no evidence of that. However, there’s this to be said: that the congenital defective can’t fall into sin, because he has no mental freedom, while he can go to Paradise and is certainly destined for a happy eternity. As for lunatics, though they’re not pleasant folk for sane people to see or associate with, they aren’t usually unhappy-at least according to Jung. They are frequently “artists who mistake their own creations for reality”-and who are far happier in the world of illusions than they would be other-wise. Where this is not so, the reason is in most cases due to personal fault in the sufferer’s past life. Sometimes the state of insanity is due to a merciful “invasion” from the subconscious where conscious life has become unbearable . . .

“NEVER HAD A CHANCE”

“And so I come to your people who’ve “never had a chance,” who are “born to a life of crime” or corrupted in early youth. It’s a frightful evil, of course, that human beings should be in such degraded circumstances-but we should not imagine their condition worse than it is. I remember reading a passage in a book by the Anglican clergyman, Fr. Dolling, about the underworld of Portsmouth. He speaks of these vicious and criminal slum people as being comparatively innocent in a spiritual sense-there was little deliberate malice, because little moral consciousness about what “decent people” call sin. The boys regarded stealing, the girls sexual promiscuity, as normal ways of supporting life. “The Soul unquickened, the body alone is depraved, and therefore the highest part is still capable of the most beautiful development.” Another writer, Mr. Masterman, points out that folk of this sort have, however, a moral code of their own, in which loyalty, generosity, and mutual selfsacrificing, all play a prominent part . . . I can’t help wondering whether Christ’s words about harlots and publicans going into Heaven may not apply to their case, as compared to that of a lot of selfish, materialminded “good citizens” who are regarded as highly respectable! It’s worth remembering, anyway, that from my Christian standpoint the particular evil of sin is due to malice-and that no amount of irresponsible crime or immorality is to be compared with a wilful defiance of the known moral law of God.”

THE PAIN OF ANIMALS

At this point, Martha came in with a light supper, which we ate with relish, finishing up with coffee and liqueurs. I looked at the clock, but Martin (who was pouringsome milk into a saucer for the cat) protested that I mustn’t think of going yet.

“Feeding this sleek and petted animal,” he said, “reminds me of one more objection to Providence you’ve not dealt with yet; the suffering of beasts. I mean, you can link up suffering with sin in the case of man; and, at worst, you can postulate compensation in a future life. But these creatures don’t sin; they haven’t any future life, according to you- and yet they suffer horribly from each other and from man today and, if what the palaeoptologists say is correct, “nature red in tooth and claw” was going on for many ages before the first men came into existence. Where’s the justice in that, John, my lad?”

“Well, Martin,” I said, “you’ve brought up what a rather eminent Chris tian philosopher, E. I. Watkin, calls “perhaps the greatest, because the most insoluble, difficulty against a Divine Providence.” You see, the trouble is that reason and revelation tell us something about man’s suffering in relation to God’s intentions, so that we can get some understanding about it; but when we come to the pain in the animal kingdom, we are completely in the dark, and all that we say is speculation.”

WHY CRUELTY IS WRONG

“Yes,” he said, “I can see the difficulty there. But I suggest that it might clear the ground a bit if we got an idea of what “animal pain” really involves. I mean, human pain contains so many other elements besides the actually physical experience from one moment to another , . . and a lot of these elements aren’t there, of course, with the animals.”

“That’s true,” I answered, patting Bruce’s head as I did so. (The dog had come over beside me, and was on terms of dignified friendship with me by now.) “There’s no man who hates callousness or cruelty to animals more than I do. It has a bad effect upon the human beings who indulge in it-in a number of ways-by hardening their attitude to the pain of others generally, and by helping, in some cases, to minister to psychological perversions of a very sinister type indeed. For the rest, man has, 1 believe, been given full power over the animal world by God-but it’s a power which should be used intelligently, with a sense of responsibility towards the Creator; not with stupid recklessness and violence. You can “sin against Nature” in this sense, in dealing not only with animals, but with the earth generally in a selfish and ruthless way, without regard to laws. Those who do so often suffer the consequences, as Americans and Australians are doing, in such evils as soil-erosion- which certainly can’t be held to be the “work of Providence” any more than the results of this war.

SENTIMENTAL FALLACIES

“But, admitting all that about human cruelty and recklessness, I think if we want to talk sensibly about animal pain we’ve got to set aside a lot of false emotion about it, which arises from projecting our human consciousness into creatures which have nothing of the kind.”

“You mean,” said Martin, “the sort of statement like, “how would you like a great big giant to put you in a tiny little cage?”-or “don’t you think old horses deserve consideration after years of unselfish service to man?” “

“That’s “it,” I said. “Of course, this kind of thing has its uses in training children to habits of kindness-it has its place there, like legends and fairy-tales which convey a moral. But the trouble is that so many grown-ups, and really intelligent men-like Galsworthy, for instance- sob over wounded birds as if they were wounded flying children, and regard killing old horses as something like killing old-age pensioners. And to hear them on caged animals or birds in a zoo, you’d think the creatures suffered all the despair of innocent human prisoners in penal servitude for life.”

“And, of course,” said Martin, “a lot of them also disregard the distinction between the levels of animal consciousness; they seem to imagine that a crustacean suffers in the same fashion as a dog would, and “can’t bear the idea” of boiling lobsters alive. . . .

ANIMAL AND HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS

“Yes,” I answered. “But even with the highest animals, the absence of human consciousness which gathers up impressions and sensations, puts them together and draws conclusions from them, means that they get let off all the worst things of human pain . . .

“For instance?” said Martin.

“Well, suppose I”ve had toothache all night, I haven’t just suffered the successive throb of pain from one instant to another. There’s the past experience of pain which remains with me, piling up; there’s the dread of the future, “won’t this ever stop?” There’s the knowledge of the hateful necessity of going to the dentist and having it out with the “needle” or having that ghastly drill . . . There’s the apprehension—“Good Lord, I hope it’s not pyorrhea . . . But an animal has none of this except the passing throb of pain from one instant to the next. It doesn’t recognise or suffer the whole process at all, and it certainly doesn’t reflect about it.

“Apply this, now, to the other matters we raised-the caged bird, the old horse, and the rest. The caged bird feels the moments of restriction when it tries its wings; it feels the momentary spasm of fear when the cat is near. But it doesn’t “long for the woodlands” in the homesick fashion of an imprisoned child. It has which Mr. Galsworthy is suffering himself, and attributing to it. Again, an old horse may be physically incapable, and in physical pain-but he’s as incapable of feeling his master’s ingratitude as he was formerly of the “unselfish service” attributed to him by his enthusiastic admirers. He hasn’t any “self” in our sense, to be “selfish” or “unselfish” with.”

“So that a great deal of animal suffering is really human illusion?”

“Yes-we tend to deceive ourselves-inevitably, in view of the limitations of our thinking, and the peculiar character of our own experience. Even the descriptive words we utter about Nature convey to us a human meaning which fosters the illusion. Plants and animals “prey on one another”—and we think of cruel human exploiters and killers; we speak of the “ruthlessness” of the tropical forest; a tree killed by a parasite is a “victim,” and the process is a “tragedy” . . . But all this is just bluffing ourselves with metaphors.”

THE WORK OF SATAN

“I allow you all that,” said Martin, “but there remains the fact that animals do suffer, sometimes acutely, after their fashion, and, as I said, they apparently did so ages before men existed-so that the fall of man can’t have anything to do with it, as St. Paul seems to think when he spoke of all creatures groaning and travailing, in need of redemption. Anyhow, they can’t be “redeemed” or paid for their pain, because they haven’t any souls.”

“Don’t be too sure,” I said, “about human sin and animal pain having nothing to do with each other. Have you eve r read C. S. Lewis? He sets forth a rather striking theory that the hideous ferocity and waste and suffering which we see in nature-what we call “savagery” and “ruthlessness” in the struggles of the lower world-are an earlier phase of the same disaster which fell upon man in Eden. As you know, we Christians ascribe man’s fall to the operation of a mightier fallen being-the great created spirit, or angel, who became Satan, by using his own freedom to detach himself from the service of his Creator. Now, Lewis suggests that Satan-who is described by Our Lord as “The Prince of this World”-really had some sort of “Guardian” office connected with our own planet-an office which he used after his revolt to “poison the wells,” and pervert and thwart the harmonious development of its life. Hence the evolutionary growth by means of struggle, and at heavy cost, with which we are familiar. He suggests, too, that the “job” originally given to man-on which he fell down-may have been to use his intelligence in the “uplifting” of the animal world as God had “uplifted” him by the gift of the supernatural life. Man still does the work in a partial, imperfect way when he enobles certain types of animals, notably horses and dogs, in the course of adapting them to his service. Of course, all this is just speculation, but it seems to me to have the merit of giving a certain fundamental ethical significance to the whole cosmic process, as a battle between God and His adversary at different levels.”

“But,” said Martin, “aren’t you getting back to the dualGod idea that you refuted?”

“Not at all,” I answered. “Satan isn’t another God-he’s a creature existing in virtue of the Divine Power which upholds his being. And if you ask why he’s allowed to operate, I must again remind you of what I said about the highest good which God wants of His creatures; a good which involves victorious achievement, and therefore the possibility of future and disaster. Satan, having refused God, and damned himself, is used by God-against his will- in theservice of the Divine Plan as the head of the opposing forces to be overcome.”

“So you believe that the struggle of evolution through the “survival of the fittest”-with all the waste and pain involved-is a moral process?”

“Not when you look at it from the physical and material plane, which is all that concerns the natural scientist. But I suggest that behind that process the other struggle has been at work throughout, and that its full meaning emerges with the appearance of man, the link between material “nature” and the world of free spirits. I”m afraid that’s all I can suggest about animal pain, such as it is. It remains a profound mystery. but I do insist that animals generally live in pleasure, rather than pain, on their own level-in spite of all the talk about “Nature red in tooth and claw.””

THE MASS OF PAIN

“Still, when all your “apologia” is done, the mass of pain, human and animal, remains terrifyingly huge,” said my friend.

“I”m rather glad you said that, Martin,” I replied. “because it gives me a chance to clear up a point which ought to be cleared up. We talk loosely about “the sum of pain” as if it were a single great load. But here again, language conveys a false impression. I have pain A, you have pain B; Bruce, here, if you like, has pain C. But if you say that the total pain in the room is A plus B plus C, you are creating an imaginary composite; for no one is suffering that pain. When we have reached the limit of pain suffered by the highest being-something pretty awful, I grant you-we have all the “sum” there can be. The addition of sufferers doesn’t add to the suffering.”

“Well,” said Martin, “you seem to have covered the ground very fairly from your viewpoint, and though, as you say, the mystery of evil still remains, one begins to perceive the indications of a solution “behind the horizon.””

GOD ON THE CROSS

“There’s one more thing I want to say,” I replied. “So far, though I”ve spoken through. out as a Christian, I”ve not used any argument which couldn’t be employed by a man who had never heard of Christ’s Divinity. But the “mystery of evil” is immensely lightened when we see it in the light of another mystery whose contemplation has been the consolation of suffering men for some two thousand years. I said, a minute ago that no one bore the sum of the world’s pain; but I must correct that statement now. For we believe that God, Who created this world in which there is so much evil, devised a manner in which He Himself might endure the whole weight of its sorrows. In His Divine Nature, He could not suffer-since evil of all kinds is grounded in limitation, which makes the privation of good possible. But He assumed a Human Nature in the Person of the Son, the Word-entering, as Man, the creation marred by Satan’s malice in order that He might redeem it. In answer to the infidels” challenge when he points to the miseries of mankind and rails, “Where is now thy God?” we can point, not to a remote throne of Power, but to the agonising, derelict victim of Calvary “The iron of His world-ruling law was driven “By the strong doom of His world-ruling Will, “Through His own Body upon the eternal Cross “Of His Creative Sacrifice in Heaven;

“And dark as death, on His death-conquering brow,

The whole world’s thorns were woven to make His Crown.”

THE LIGHT OF CHRIST

“I submit, then, that where the Deist, “without dogma,” breaks down, and the philosophic Theist falters in dismay, the man of Christian Faith can face the full truth of evil undismayed, and lift up his heart to the Saviour, the chief Victim and Victor in the fight against sin and pain. I won’t argue with you tonight about the Christian doctrines of original sin and the atonement-though we might have a session on that subject later. But you spoke of a solution “behind the horizon.” It is there, all-right-and we can see the glow of it against the clouds in our world of shadows and images. It is the Light of Christ.”

We both remained lost in thought for a while, and then I rose to go. “What about one for the road?” said Martin. He filled our two glasses a last time; we drank one another’s health, and so parted.

Nihil obstat:

F. MOYNIHAN, Censor Deputatus.

Imprimatur:

@ DANIEL MANNIX,

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis.

********

God In The World

JAMES KELLY

INDEX

W HILE Jim McCarthy was in bed with his broken leg W the Canon got into the habit of calling in to see him a couple of times a week, and the two became great friends. One day when the Canon walked into the bedroom he found Jim reading. The boy looked particularly pleased when he saw who his visitor was.

“Canon,” he said, “I’ve come up against a difficulty in this novel I’m reading. Could you help me out?” “I’ll do what I can for you, though I’m very far from being infallible,” said that Canon.

Jim showed him the book he was reading. “This author is talking about a man who was on the point of becoming a

Catholic. He says the Church attracted him because it offered an easy path in which no fighting would be needed.’ In the end, however, he didn’t enter the Church because, according to this writer, he saw that submitting to the power of Pope and bishops amounted to giving up personal responsibility ‘for the sake of selfish freedom from personal danger.’ By that he means, I suppose, that we Catholics let other people do our religious thinking for us because we’re too scared to risk doing it ourselves. How could I answer that?”

“That’s a common enough objection to the Church.” said the Canon. It takes different forms. I remember one time a man told me that all Catholics had sold their souls to the Pope. He had hold of the same wrong idea of what Catholic obedience means as your novelist friend. But you should be able to answer him yourself. You’re a Catholic. Do you find it so easy to live your religion that no fighting is needed?”

CATHOLICS ARE SHEEP?

“I certainly don’t,” said Jim, “I sometimes wish I did ! But look Canon, when this man talks about fighting, he doesn’t exactly mean struggling to keep straight and lead a decent life. He’s trying to say that we close our eyes and take another man’s word for what’s right and wrong, for what to believe and what not to believe. He implies that when we follow the instructions of the Pope or the bishops we are behaving like sheep.”

“That’s his meaning all right,” the Canon admitted, “but as I said, he doesn’t rightly understand what obedience means for a Catholic. You see, there are two kinds of obedience. There’s the weak, servile, sneaking sort that he is talking about. You’ve seen that kind of obedience yourself in some of the lads at school and I’m sure you haven’t liked it.”

“Do you mean the sort of fellow who is always playing up to the masters?”

“Exactly,” said the Canon. “He wants praise and protection and he sacrifices his self-respect to get them. He’s a toady. Your novelist is saying that a Catholic obedience to the Church authorities is of that kind, and therefore he concludes that Catholics are afraid of responsibility and want to have all their decisions made for them.”

“When you put it that way, it certainly sounds a pretty ridiculous suggestion.”

“I’m glad you agree. You see, obedience isn’t necessarily servile, and in fact it never should be. It isn’t physical force that makes us obey the Church, but the force of our own convictions. Of course it’s true that no matter how strong our convictions are, we wouldn’t be able to live up to them if the grace of Christ didn’t help us. Christ tells us that without His help we can do nothing in the Christian life. With that grace at work in us we freely choose to obey because we know that it is God’s will we should. Not every fellow keeps the rules in school because he wants to stand well with the authorities, or because he’s afraid of being caught and punished. The best type of lad will make himself keep a rule by a cold, deliberate act of his own will. That’s true obedience-to will to obey.”‘

“We are always being told that’s the way we should treat the rules,” said Jim, “but it isn’t easy. I may as well admit that pretty often I just fall in with what the rest of the fellows are doing.”

“I know it isn’t easy,” said the Canon. “It takes a strong character and independence of will to do the hard thing we know is our duty, especially if our friends are taking the easy way out, and laugh at us as oddities for being different from them.”

“It looks as if we’ve turned the tables on this fellow,” said Jim with satisfaction, snapping his book closed. “He maintained that when we submitted to authority in the Church we were behaving like a herd of weak-minded sheep. We’ve proved that it’s just the opposite, that we make a clear decision based on reason.”

BLIND OBEDIENCE

“Not so fast.” The Canon smiled and settled himself better into his chair. “Now that we have raised this matter of authority and obedience, we had better thresh it out to the bitter end. Isn’t it a fact that on the most important problems in our lives we have our minds made up for us by the Pope? When the Pope defines a dogma or makes a law on some religious matter, we have to fall into line with what he says whether we like it or not. Haven’t we blindly to accept his word, no matter what our reason may tell us to the contrary? And when we do give in to him are we not behaving like sheep?”

Jim was bewildered for a moment to find the Canon playing Devil’s Advocate with such skill. “That’s hardly a fair way of putting it,” he protested. “For one thing, the Church never asks us to believe anything that’s not true, much less selfcontradictory or absurd. We may not be able to see for ourselves that a particular teaching is true, but at least we’re always certain that it can’t be proven false. And it isn’t true that our obedience is blind. We believe the Pope because we know that he is infallible. God won’t let him teach false doctrine. It’s really God that we believe, speaking through the Pope, and it’s the most reasonable thing in the world to take God’s word for the truth of something, even though we can’t see it for ourselves.”

Jim was rather pleased with himself for having his answer so pat, but the Canon hadn’t finished with him yet. He changed his ground a little.

WE THINK FOR OURSELVES

“Answer me this one,” he said. “Isn’t it unreasonable to claim_ that God, who gave each man a reason and a will to direct his own life with, would set up a man to whose decisions all other men would have to bow? If God set up the Pope to do our thinking for us, why did He give us minds of our own at all?’

“Well, it’s only in some things that the Pope is infallible. Most things we have to think out for ourselves.”

The Canon pounced. “Your right to say that the Pope’s infallibility is limited to certain matters. You’re wrong to say that we have to think out most things for ourselves. In a very true sense we have to think out everything for ourselves.”

“But Canon, suppose our opinion is different from what the Pope has defined. Suppose we can’t see by our reason that he is right. I’m sure that has happened. If a man thinks a thing out for himself and comes to a conclusion contrary to that of the Pope-what is he to do?

“A man in that position has to choose one of two paths.” The Canon was speaking carefully and weighing his words. “He may submit, or it may happen that he leaves the Church. If he submits. he has to hold tight to his faith in the Pope’s infallibility, and decide that his reasoning must be mistaken somewhere, even though he can’t see where; for if the Pope is right he must be wrong. That is a fearful trial for any man and a fearful power that the Church has, Jim. She can go inside a man’s mind and oblige him to think in his own person according to her directions. If any human authority tried to exercise a power like that on men’s minds it would be violation. But it is God who speaks through the Church. We may argue with men, but when it is God we are dealing with we can only humble our minds and believe.”

The Canon had spoken with great intensity, and now he sat for a few moments in silence. Then he took up the conversation again. “One thing we can be sure of. If God does send a trial like that He also sends the grace to take a man through it in decency and honour. He won’t ask anybody to be dishonest or to cheat himself or to be a coward in the face of difficulties.”

“Now that is exactly the point of objection in this novel.” said Jim. “This writer thought that submission to power like the Pope’s couldn’t be anything but unmanly.”

‘You have it there all right,” replied the Canon. “But when Jesus Christ gave that power to St. Peter and his successors He knew all about what was in man. He couldn’t and He wouldn’t have set up a power that by its very nature would destroy the freedom which God himself gave man to mark him off from the animals. When a person raises objections against the Church’s power over our minds and hearts he’s really afraid to trust Our Lord. He’s saying in effect that Christ didn’t know what he was doing.”

APOSTATES

“Well, that’s that disposed of,” said Jim, “but what about the man who thinks he can’t stay in the Church? Suppose a man decides that what the Church teaches just can’t be true, and so he gives up his belief and leaves. What about him?”

“You’re certainly setting up the hard ones for me today, Jim. But let’s remind ourselves of the facts. Can the Church teach what is untrue?”

“I think the Catechism answer would be useful here,” said Jim, “ The Church cannot err when it teaches doctrines of faith and morale to be held by all the faithful.’”

“I’m glad to see that your courses in apologetics and social science and all the rest of it haven’t driven the Catechism out of your head yet. Well, then, the Church cannot be teaching an untruth on some matter in regard to which she binds us with all her authority.”

“But,’ persisted Jim, ‘could a Catholic not be mistaken and think, for instance, that some teaching of the Church was contradicted be science. When non-Catholics disagree with us we normally assume that they are in good faith. Could a Catholic not argue himself into the same position by mistaken reasoning?”

“It does sometimes happen,” replied the Canon, “that a man thinks his reason forces him to leave the Church. Tragedies like that are almost unknown in our country, thank God, but not quite so rare on the Continent or in England or America.

“Our religion is true, its truth is guaranteed by God Himself, and therefore no other truth can conflict with it, and no true reasoning can lead us to reject it. Your difficulty is that you think it might be possible for a man to lose the Faith, either because his reasoning is based on false information or because through his information is true, he draws the wrong conclusions from it, but through no fault of his own, through a mistake for which he is not to blame.”

“That is the point I was trying to make all right,” Jim answered.

“The short answer is that it is not possible. Any man who loses the Faith is to blame for it himself. You’ll see why I say that if you think of what the Faith is. It is a grace given us by God to enable us to believe what He has revealed. It is the most important grace that God gives to men, because without it, as St. Paul says, ‘it is impossible to please God.’ God does not simply give us Faith and leave us on our own to make the best we can of it. He gives each man whatever help he needs to keep his Faith, and if anybody loses it, it can only be because he has refused to accept this help from God. That doesn’t mean that it’s easy, or that a good Catholic should never have any difficulties. I would go so far as to say that difficulties about the Faith might be a trial sent directly from God to test a man and thereby make him holier. As Cardinal Newman said, a thousand difficulties don’t make one doubt, and it’s only a doubt or an outright denial that is a sin against Faith.”

“Well, Canon, what is the best way to deal with these difficulties against Faith?”

“What’s the best way to deal with any temptation?”

“I suppose we should pray for strength to get the better of it.”

“Of course we should. And if a man’s prayer is humble and sincere, God will give him that grace. Often a teaching of the Church gives a man difficulty, not because he has genuine intellectual objections to it, but because the books he reads or the people he associates with have gradually implanted the notion in his head that it is ‘unenlightened’ or out of date. His real difficulty is not intellectual at all, but moral, the moral difficulty of pride. Arguments won’t cure that, at least not permanently. But if he gets down on his knees and says ‘Lord, have mercy on me, a sinner,’ and means it, then he sees himself as he really is, opens up his mind to the possibility that he is mistaken, and so puts himself in the right disposition to accept God’s help. If on the contrary he insists that he will stand on his own feet and demands that God’s arrangements must conform to his notions of what is proper, he is refusing help from God and he will fall. He allows his thinking to be blinded by pride and to do that is to act against his conscience. I can easily imagine that such a man would not be aware that he was acting against his conscience, but that very lack of awareness is due to his neglect of humble prayer. It is his fault, and a very serious sin. He has sinned against the light, against the promptings of the Holy Ghost, and no sin is more strongly condemned by Our Lord than that.

“It has happened too, several times over the past centuries, that new scientific discoveries seemed to some people to make belief in Christianity impossible. But always it has turned out, either that there was no real contradiction, or that as time went on and science progressed, the first statements of the discovery had to be modified, so that the contradiction disappeared. It has also happened that the efforts to settle conflicts between science and religion has given to the Church a better understanding of her own beliefs and theories that in earlier days would have been considered hostile to Catholic truth, are seen to be really in harmony with it.”

“Well, suppose we take the case of this man who has brought himself to believe that Catholicism is false. What is he to do?”

“It would be wrong for such a man,” replied the Canon, “to pretend that he still believes in the Church. He has already sinned through neglecting God’s grace. But if he kept up the pretence of being a Catholic that would be hypocrisy, and he would be acting against his conscience a second time. If he really believes that the Church is false, then he must leave the Church.”

“I say,” said Jim, “that’s a pretty grim sentence-to say that a man must follow his conscience even if it takes him outside the Church.”

“In the last analysis, Jim, a man has no other guide. The Church insists that no man obey her unless he thinks that’s the right thing to do. And of course you see how this affirmation of a man’s duty to follow his conscience shows once again how false it is to say that Catholics are forbidden to think for themselves. ‘

“I must say,” said Jim, that as far as I can see most Catholics don’t do an awful lot of thinking about whether their religion is right or not. They just take it for granted that what they learned in the Catechism or what the priest tells them is true.”

SENT BY CHRIST

“In that they are no different from most people of other religions, or of no religion at all. But whereas non-Catholics take their religious opinions from men who are as liable to be mistaken as themselves, the Catholic knows that his teachers are doing the same job as the Apostles, and have the same powers. Our Lord told the apostles that whoever listened to them was listening to Him, and the same thing is true today of the Pope and bishops. and of the priests and lay teachers who work under them. The ordinary Catholic who believes without question what the priest tells him about his religion is believing Christ. Its true that an individual priest or bishop might be mistaken, but the infallible Church will soon step in and make the matter clear.

“That a striking idea,” said Jim. “It certainly sobers me up when the notion drives home that when I hear Canon McGurk preaching at second Mass on Sunday, it’s really in Our Lord’s person he’s speaking.”

Canon McGurk became very serious. “It is a sobering thought for me too.” he said. “Any man who preaches the Gospel is continually seeing the great and terrible truths he affirms rising up in judgment on himself. But there’s no escaping the fact that that is how it is. The bishop sent me here to preach the Gospel, and it was the Pope who sent the bishop and the Pope and all the bishops can trace their authority back, one generation sending another, to the day when Christ said to St. Peter and the other apostles, who were the first Pope and the first bishops, ‘Going therefore teach ye all nations . . . teaching them to observe all things whatsoever I have commanded you. And behold I am with you all days, even to the end of the world.”

The Canon drew breath, and there was silence for a few moments while the old man and the boy turned over their private thoughts. Jim was the first to speak.

When you come to think of it,” he said, “unless Our Lord had stayed on earth Himself he couldn’t have spread the Gospel except by giving some men authority to teach in His name and to pass on their authority to others after them. If he had just left it to chance, his message would have got mixed up with all kinds of exaggerated stories in no time. Even the Gospels by themselves aren’t enough, because different men understand them in altogether different ways.”

The Canon nodded with satisfaction. “Christ came on earth to earn us a right to heaven and to teach us how to get there. The truths he had to teach were so important that he said “He that believeth not shall be condemned, meaning, of course, ‘he that disbelieves through his own fault.’ Christ brought many truths that men could never have found out for themselves, God had to tell them. And we could never know them or have certain faith in them unless He sent messengers to us to tell us, and unless we had assurance that the messengers were really from Him. If you read the Acts of the Apostles you’ll find accounts of sermons that St. Peter or some of the others preached, always very simple. They went something like this. ‘Jesus Christ was the Son of God, sent to save the people from their sins. But you, his people, turned your backs on him, and in the end you killed him. Then God raised him from the dead and set him at his right hand in glory in heaven. We are witnesses to all that. Have faith and repent and be baptized so that you may have a place in his kingdom.’

Jim was very struck by this. “And you were sent to us to bring us the same message. We know that we can believe you because the Church sent you, and Christ promised the Church that he would always be with her. It’s certainly a great help to know that when you tell us such-and-such a thing is a sin.’ or ‘You ought to do this rather than that,’ it might as well be Our Lord himself who is speaking. If we could remember that all the time I don’t suppose anybody would ever sin.”

OBEDIENCE HELPS US

“Ah, I’m afraid there would still be men sinning Jim. Look at Judas. Look at St. Peter himself. They sinned right in the face of Christ. But it surely is a great help, and help we badly need to know that when the Church commands or forbids, it is the Word of God Himself that commands or forbids. But notice that generally it’s not the fact that a thing is forbidden that makes it wrong. It is really the other way round. It’s because a thing is a sin that it’s forbidden. Murder and stealing are not sins because Christ through the Church, says we mustn’t do them, but we’re forbidden to do them because they’re wrong in themselves. However when a man is faced with a strong temptation to do wrong, it’s a greater help to him to think that this wrong act will hurt Jesus who is his friend, then that it will break some sort of abstract moral law. Some pagan philosophers worked out pretty well what was right and wrong for men, but a philosopher never converted so much as the street as he lived in. We need certain commands, given with authority, and it’s the Church that has that.”

MORE TROUBLE

A worried look crossed Jim’s face when he saw the stage their discussion had got to.

“Canon,” he said, “here we are praising the Church for being able to give us sure and unmistakable knowledge of what

God’s law is. Are we not leaving ourselves open to the old objection all over again? I mean, could a non-Catholic not argue that the Church attracts men because she lays down the law so firmly, and gives them a comfortable assurance of where they stand, with no effort needed on their part?”

“If a man is assured he’s on the road to Hell, it will hardly make him comfortable, Jim. It is of course true that peace of mind and the settling of doubts is an attraction for men. Our Lord meant it to be. That doesn’t mean that Catholics have no effort to make, as you well know. For one thing, every Catholic is expected to have whatever reasonable understanding of the Church’s teaching is appropriate to his education, and the getting of that knowledge can demand great effort and searching of soul.”

Jim was apparently satisfied with this final explanation of the Church’s right to obedience, but having once got the Canon in good talking form he was anxious to keep him going. So he came up quickly with another problem.

ALL RELIGIONS ARE THE SAME

“‘Look Canon,” he said, “you know that there are very many Protestants living in this area. I get about with some of them pretty regularly, and sometimes we get into arguments about religion. They are always saying that one religion is as good as another. ‘Let each one live according to his own beliefs,’ they say, ‘and not interfere with his neighbours.’ Now what’s the proper answer to make to that?

“You know yourself Jim that it is not true that one religion is as good as another. Our Lord came on earth to redeem us and to found a Church in which we could get a share in his Redemption. If any religion at all is as good as the one He founded, then it looks as if He wasted his time founding a Church.”

“I know that Canon,” said Jim, “but you have to admit that even people who have never heard of the Church can be saved sometimes. so it doesn’t seem to matter what we believe or do we are honestly convinced that we are right.”

WHAT IS THE CHURCH?

The Canon scratched his jaw thoughtfully. “I’m trying to decide what would be the best place to start explaining. Maybe this will do. We’ve been throwing this word ‘Church’ about a good deal-’the Catholic Church,’ ‘one church is as good as another,’ and so on. It’s about time we settled exactly what a church is, so that we’ll be able to see better what’s to be gained by belonging to the one true Church rather than to some other organization that only thinks it’s a Church. What would you say that the Church is?

“That’s hard to answer,” said Jim, rather taken aback by the unexpectedly simple question.’ I mean, I know what the Church is of course, but it’s hard to put it into words.

“You quoted a catechism answer for me a while ago,” prompted the Canon. “Can you not remember what the catechism says about the church?”

“Oh,” Jim exclaimed, “I have it now. ‘THE CHURCH IS THE VISIBLE SOCIETY FOUNDED BY CHRIST HIMSELF, TO CONTINUE ON EARTH HIS WORK OF TEACHING, RULING AND SANCTIFYING MEN FOR THEIR ETERNAL SALVATION.’

THE CHURCH’S PURPOSE

“Good man,” said the Canon. “Now let’s take that answer and see what we can make of it. Remember that we’re trying to find out what it is that makes the true Church better than any other, despite the fact that men can be saved who apparently have never had anything to do with the true Church. Now what did the answer say is the purpose of the Church? What did Our Lord set up a Church for at all?”

“The Church is to carry on Our Lord’s work by teaching the truths that He taught, by laying down the laws of conduct that He made, and by making men holy. And the purpose of all that is that men may save their souls.”

“Very well put,” commended the Canon. “Now take first of all the teaching of the truths that Christ taught. He taught them to enable men to save their souls, and the Church teaches them for the same reason. But it’s only the true teaching of Christ that will help men to save their souls, and not some mistaken notion of what He taught. And it’s only in the true Church that you get the whole of Christ’s true teaching. Other Churches may have more or less of it, but because the Catholic Church is infallible she has kept it all, and has kept it pure. It isn’t impossible for heretics to be saved, since if their heresy isn’t their own fault God won’t hold them accountable for it. But they miss a great deal of the help that Our Lord intended men to get from the truths He taught.”

“And I suppose that the same thing is true about the laws that Our Lord laid down for us,” Jim broke in. “If a man breaks Christ’s law unknowingly, he’s not to blame. But through the Church, Catholics get a proper knowledge of his laws and that means we have a great help towards salvation that other people miss.”

“Precisely. And you’ll see better just how that is so if you recall what I said a while back about the r easons why God makes laws commanding us to do this or forbidding us to do that. Things aren’t made right or wrong, I said, by the fact that they are commanded or forbidden. It’s the other way round. A thing is good and necessary and therefore God commands us to do it. Another thing is harmful and therefore He forbids it. So by following the Church’s laws we do what is good for us and avoid what would do us harm. Non-Catholics may do what is evil in the belief that it is good, and they won’t be guilty of any crime in God’s eyes. But just the same the evil that they do is real, and it harms them. It makes them less like what God wants all men to be.”

Jim nodded his assent.

“In the same way when the Church orders us to do something, for instance to assist at Mass on Sundays or to go to Confessions and Communion at least once a year. it is because doing that will make us more like God wants us to be.

HOLY COMMUNION

To be more like what God wants man to be, is to be holier, and the sacraments are the great means of making men holy. Here’s another thing too. For us, trying to be holy means trying to imitate Our Lord, trying to want the things He wants, to reject what He rejects. That is to say we try to unite our wills to His. It is Holy Communion above all else that does that for us. Remember what Christ said : ‘He who eats my flesh and drinks my blood lives continually in me and I in him . . . He who eats me will live, in his turn, because of me.’ Holy Communion unites us to Christ so closely that it is his Spirit which is the principle of the supernatural life in us. It gives us the help we need to follow Christ’s will rather than our own. No matter how well-intentioned non-Catholics are, they haven’t got that help towards godliness.

IT’S EASIER IN THE CHURCH

Jim thought it was time they had a little summing-up. He said “So all that we’ve been saying amounts to this: the true Church, which is the Catholic Church, is better than any other, because Our Lord equipped it with all the tools it needs to do a Church’s job, that is, to make men holy so that they may get to Heaven. Other so-called churches are working with defective equipment, so as a rule they do their work rather badly, if at all. It’s much easier to be saved in the true Church than in any other.”

The Canon pursed his lips. “It’s easier to be saved in the Church’ He was clearly doubtful. “You see, there’s so much truth in that statement that I can’t really disagree with it, and yet by itself it could be misleading. It doesn’t say enough. If we are going to understand properly the part of the Church in men’s salvation, we’ll have to work out first of all what exactly being saved means. What about a question-time on salvation?

BEING SAVED

Jim nodded his agreement.

“Well, an easy question to start with. What are we saved from?”

“We’re saved from hell-and from the devil and from sin.” “Good. And what are we saved for?” “For heaven, to be happy in heaven for ever.”

“Good again. And whom are we saved by?”

“By Our Lord, when he died for us.”

“Perfect. And how did it come about that we needed to be saved at all?”

“Well, Adam sinned and his sin was passed on to all his descendants, so that no men could enter heaven when they died.

Then Our Lord became man and his death on the Cross wiped out Adam’s sin and opened Heaven for us. Being saved means getting a share in the merits and forgiveness of sins that Christ won for us on the Cross. Christ alone could save us because He was both God and man.”

“Hold on a minute,” the Canon interrupted. “How is it that Christ was able to wipe out Adam’s sin and all our sins? They weren’t His sins. If you do something in school that deserves punishment, will the master beat some other fellow instead of you, if another fellow offers himself?”

“No,” Jim replied, “No, I shouldn’t think so. Not if he knows that the other fellow had nothing whatever to do with the mischief I was at.”

“And yet,” persisted the Canon, “God allows his Son to suffer for our sins and accepts his sufferings in satisfaction for our sins, and so makes friends with us again. Is that not the same as if the master in school beat the boy beside you for your misdeeds?”

ADAM’S SIN

Jim thought he saw a way of explaining the difficulty.

“It’s not a matter of the personal sins of an individual,” he suggested, “it’s Original sin, Adam’s first sin. He represented all men, and so his sin was passed on to all of us. In the same way Our Lord became man so that He could represent all men on the Cross. The merits that He won on the Cross could be passed on to all men in just the same way as the guilt of Adam’s sin could be passed on to us all.”

OUR SINS

I’ll let that pass for the moment, as far as Original Sin is concerned,” the Canon conceded. “Remember that the exact way Adam’s sin and Christ’s merits passed to us is a mystery. We don’t fully understand it. But what about Actual Sins, the sins for which you and I are personally responsible? Christ could wipe out Original Sin because it was the sin of the human race as a whole, and He was the representative of the race. He was truly man, and therefore could represent men. But there are other sins that He also wiped out on the Cross. personal sins. yours and mine. How could He represent you and me as individuals, when He wasn’t you or I?”

BAPTISM

This time Jim saw no way out.

“That’s a mystery too,” he offered, not very hopefully.

‘You’re right, the Canon congratulated him, and when all is said and done, a mystery it will remain. We don’t know how it is that Christ can share His merits with us, but the fact is that He does so. We know, because He has told us. And the fact that He does so means that in this respect God treats you and me and all other Christians as though we were Christ.

Why does God do so? Here we come to the very heart of this mystery. Because in fact we are Christ, we are “members” of His Body. It was Baptism that made us “members” of Christ. In one of his letters St. Paul says “We too, all of us, have been baptised into a single body” (I Cor, 12 :13), and the Lord Himself said “Unless a man is born again of water and the Holy Ghost, (that is, unless he is baptised), he cannot enter the Kingdom of God.” ( John 3 :5). The reason he cannot enter the Kingdom of God is that he hasn’t got the necessary share of Christ’s merits by baptism. Baptism enables us to get forgiveness for all our sins. It, itself, washes away whatever sin is on the soul when it is received, and it enables us to get absolution in Confession for sins we may commit afterwards. It is the gateway to all the Sacraments.”

“I want to make sure now that I’ve picked up what you’ve been saying, Canon, before we go any further. This is the way I understand it. Because of Original Sin, and also because of our own personal sins, none of us on our own can ever get to heaven. We need to be saved from our sins and the only person that can save us is Jesus Christ, As the notice-board of the Baptist church down the road says ‘There is no other name under Heaven whereby we may be saved.’ He saves us by giving us a share in the merits He won on the Cross, and that share comes to us only through baptism, by which we are made members of his Church.” He stopped and gave the Canon an inquiring look, to sec if he had any comment to make.

“Perfectly correct, Jim. I’ll just add a word or two to that. It is the firm teaching of the vast majority of Catholic theologians that no unbaptized person, no matter how good his life, will enter heaven, unless by some special and extraordinary act of God’s grace. You see Heaven is not a reward that any man at all can earn by leading a good life. Heaven is a reward that God gives to his children who are brothers of Jesus Christ, made members of Christ’s Body, the Church, by baptism, and who lead a good life by the help of his grace. Heaven is a supernatural reward, and the only way we can get in contact with the supernatural is through the Church, by baptism. Besides the baptism of water of course, we have the baptism of blood that joins an unbaptized martyr to the Church in death, or the baptism of desire which can take a convert under instruction to heaven, even though he dies before he is actually baptized. The essential thing is that by baptism in some form a man gets a share of the supernatural life which Christ communicates to his Church, and by which alone he can live the life of the blessed in heaven, seeing and knowing God as He is in Himself.

The good pagan who through no fault of his own dies in ignorance of the faith, is not of course punished in any way for what he could not help. His good life earns him the great reward of a happy life in Limbo for ever.

Now, Jim my boy, I think it’s time we started to draw the loose ends of our argument together, because I’ll soon have to be going. Do you remember what it was that started us off on this talk about the nature of salvation?”

Jim thought for a moment. “Oh yes. It was when I said that it was easier to be saved in the Church than outside it, because in the Church we are helped to become holy by true doctrines, good laws, and by the Mass and the sacraments. You suggested it wasn’t enough to say that it was easier to be saved in the Church and you started to explain by asking what salvation meant.”

The Canon assented, and gathered himself for a final driving home of his point. “Now do you see why it’s not enough to content yourself with the statement that it is easier to be saved in the Church? If we said no more than that we’d be leaving out the fact that no salvation at all comes to any man except through the Church. The Church is an indispensable part of God’s plan for our salvation.”

Jim caught sight of the novel he had been reading when the Canon came in. It reminded him how the whole talk had started. Pointing it out to the Canon he remarked : “We’ve come a long way since this fellow started us off. ‘Catholics are just sheep, running away from responsibility, afraid to think.’ Wasn’t that what he said?”

“Yes, and we answered him by pointing out that in obeying the Church and accepting what she teaches us about religion, it’s not to men we’re giving in, but to Christ, to God, and we can surely trust ourselves to Him. And we showed that in fact the Church’s authority doesn’t do violence to any man’s conscience. No man may accept the Church’s authority unless his conscience tells him to do so. After that we went on to talk about what makes the Church superior to other religions. Could you put into two sentences for me now what that superiority rests on?”

“It rests on God, because all that the Church does is done by His power. I suppose that puts it in one sentence. God may give grace to individuals who belong to other religions, but that grace comes to them through the Church, not through their own religions.”

GOD IN THE WORLD

“Hold on to that truth Jim, and never forget it. That’s what I want you to take away from this talk and to keep. What the Church does, as Church, Jesus Christ does. Whether she teaches or makes laws or says Mass or administers the sacraments, she does it by His power and in order to carry on His work. She doesn’t exist for herself, but only for Him. Whenever we make contact with the Church we make contact with Jesus Christ. It’s she who gives us Christ. And remember too that she never gives Christ to us better than when she gives us His Cross.” “What do you mean, Canon?” Jim asked.

“You’ll find Jim that there are things in the Church, though not of the essence of the Church that you won’t like. You may dislike an individual priest. It may even be that a priest does you injury. You may do something that justly earns you a rebuke, and you won’t like taking it. So long as the Church is on earth she is full of imperfections and they pain us, just as our own imperfections cause pain to others. Never let the imperfections and the pain blind you to what the Church is in her inmost nature. She is Christ working in the world, and Christ must always carry His Cross.

There’s a verse of an Irish poem I read a long time ago. and I don’t think it would do any harm to remember it:

‘Gabh do laimh,

Gan tabhairt gutha ar fhear ghraid; Ce dheanadh feat gat-la de,

Leig don Chorp bhios ina lamb.’

You might translate it like this :

‘Go to Communion

Without finding fault with the man in orders Though he should do you every evil Yield to the Body in his hand.’

Don’t take that to mean that you must give in to a priest on every matter. But let it remind you that behind all the externals of the Church there is Jesus Christ, God in the world, and to reach him we must accept the externals.

GOLDEN WORDS

And now that I have given you one quotation, I’ll cap it with another, and then I’ll take my leave of you. It’s from a book that was written fifteen hundred years ago by St. John Chrysostom. ‘Chrysostom’ means ‘golden mouthed,’ and he was so called because of the eloquence of his speech. Here then is the advice that St. John of the Golden Mouth gave about the Church :

Do not separate yourself from the Church! No power is as powerful as she. The Church is your hope; the Church is your salvation; the Church is your refuge. She is higher than heaven and bigger than earth. She never ages, and her vitality is eternal.’

The Canon picked up his hat and prepared to leave. “I’ll slip out quietly,” he remarked. If your mother heard me she’d want to be making tea. I’ll drop in again in a day or two to see how you are getting on.”

Then he was gone, and in a moment Jim heard the noise of the outside door closing. The Canon had apparently been successful in evading Mrs. McAuley’s tea-pot.

********

God Stares You In The Eye

REV. J. MCKEE B.A

INDEX

INTRODUCTION

An atheist, the dictionary tells us, is a man who does not believe that God exists, but I suspect that atheists usually fall into one of two classes . . . either they are not convinced that there is a God (which makes them agnostic, not atheist), or they are manifesting in a curious, indirect way a belief in God’s goodness, but, as they cannot reconcile that goodness with human tragedies, they conclude that there cannot be a God. In a true sense, belief in God’s goodness has, for these people, eclipsed belief in his reality. It is not, however, this second category to whom this pamphlet is mainly directed; they must find help elsewhere to see that God and grief can co-exist. It is meant rather for the agnostic, the man who does not know.

There are countless highly-intelligent agnostics, as there are countless agnostics of little education and intelligence; it is, however, the intelligent ones who get into print, and the result is that the Word ‗agnostic’ carries for some a quite unmerited air of intellectual distinction. It is well to remember here, then, that there is no intellectual distinction attached to agnosticism as such:. In plain fact, ‗agnostic’ and ‗ignoramus’ are no more than the Greek and Latin words for the same thing. They both mean a person whodoes not know, who is ignorant of something, though ‗agnostic’ has the added drawback of implying ignorance as to one of the fundamental truths of existence: that a Creator exists.

YOUR WITNESS

But is there any evidence that God exists? Any proof? That question leads us to the argument from design. On June 17, 1967, this very question of God’s existence was debated in the television programme Your Witness (BBC 1), and an important admission was made by Professor A. J. Ayer of Oxford, who argued against belief in God. The argument from design, he said, was the strongest argument for God’s existence, and he conceded teleological processes in the universe (evidence of creative planning), though he said that he could see no over-all design. That is, he could not refuse to admit the evidence of area planning all around us, but, as the master design escaped him, he rejected the evidence! The evidence was made to take second place to the incredible assumption that the overall design of the whole universe must be apparent to us . . . but let us look at the argument from design of which he spoke with respect.

THE WATCH

It is the line of reasoning which holds that, just as the ingenious mechanism of a watch convinces us that there must have been a watchmaker, so the ‗engineering’ of the universe compels belief in a Master-designer. In its ‗watch form,’ the argument is linked in Britain with the name of Archdeacon William Paley who popularized it in The Evidences of Christianity (1794). It was used in countless manuals, e.g. in Turton’s The Truth of Christianity which referred to ‗the wellknown watch argument of Paley,’ but its real author was Voltaire. ‗If a clock proves the existence of a clock-maker,’ Voltaire said, ‗and the world does not prove the existence of a supreme architect, I consent to be called . . . a fool.’ It was the same Voltaire who, faced with the suggestion that there was no intelligent pattern in the universe, cried out: ‗Sceptical as I am, I declare such to be evident madness.’ Here he was making the reasonable leap (at which Professor Ayer baulked) from design visible under every nose to a general plan. In this he was at one with David Hume who wrote in his Natural History of Religion: ‗The whole frame of nature bespeaks an intelligent Author; and no rational inquirer can, after serious reflection, suspend his belief for a moment with regard to the primary principles of genuine Theism.’

SHAW AND DARWIN

I have mentioned Professor Ayer’s tribute since many people had assumed the ‗watch argument’ to be worthless, discredited. A ‗climate of opinion’ had risen. ‗Surely science has disposed of that argument?’ people would say, and, when pressed, they would ask blankly, ‗Well, hasn’t it?’ or they would murmur something vague about Darwin. George Bernard Shaw, in his introduction to Back to Methusaleh, wrote of the wistful way in which many last century eyed atheism. . . . ‗But atheism did not account for Paley’s watch. Atheism accounted for nothing; and it was the business of science to account for everything that was plainly accountable . . . if only some genius, whilst admitting Paley’s facts, could knock the brains out of Paley by the discovery of a method whereby watches could happen without watchmakers, that genius was assured of such a welcome from the thought of his day as no natural philosopher had ever enjoyed before.’

‗The time being ripe, the genius appeared; and his name was Charles Darwin.’

Darwin himself wrote: ‗the old argument from design in Nature as given by Paley, which formerly seeme d so conclusive, fails, now that the law of Natural Selection has been discovered.’ And countless people agreed, failing to detect the sleight-ofhand. ‗Only Samuel Butler,’ Shaw wrote, ‗on whom Darwin had acted homeopathically, reacted against him furiously . . . declaring with penetrating accuracy that Darwin had ―banished mind from the universe‖ . . . Nobody would listen to him. . . . ‘ ‗Paley was buried fathoms deep with his watch, now fully accounted for without any divine artificer at all.’

NATURAL SELECTION

That was last century. But the watch has been dug up and .has found to be still ticking healthily. The doctrine of Natural Selection, with its axioms of the survival of the fittest and the gradual accumulation of favourable variations, has been recognized as giving an explanation of the survival of some species but of the arrival of none. Alfred Noyes wrote, in The Unknown God: ‗The attention of the man who reads The Origin of Species is absorbed by masterly and perfectly accurate descriptions of the possible ways in which birds or insects acquired their protective colouring, through the ―survival of the fittest.‖ He forgets to notice that ―natural selection‖ cannot begin to work until you already have a range from which the selection is to be made. . . . Well might Darwin, in The Descent of Man, write those words which both his enemies and his friends have forgotten to read : ―This grand sequence of events the mind refuses to accept as the result of blind chance. The understanding revolts from sucha conclusion.‖ ‗

Unfortunately it was not only Darwin’s enemies and friends who forgot to read those words. Darwin forgot at times too, as his judgment on Paley’s argument has shown. Shaw commented: ‗We completely overlooked the difference between the modification of species by adaptation to their environment and the appearance of new species. . . . We took a perverse pleasure in arguing, without the least suspicion that we were reducing ourselves to absurdity, that all the books in the British Museum library might have been written word for word as they stand on the shelves if no human being had ever been conscious, just as the trees stand in the forest doing wonderful things without consciousness.’ In other words, Natural Selection describes development to a limited extent, but explains nothing; which is why a young physicist, in the Your Witness programme, said emphatically, ‗Science gives only descriptions, not explanations.’

Darwin’s theory of natural selection had soon run into serious trouble and not only from theologians but also from scientists, since, as G. K. Chesterton wrote in The Catholic Church and Conversion, speaking of evolutionary theory in its rawest form, ‗If evolution destroys anything, it does not destroy religion but rationalism,’ which echoes Samuel Butler’s cry about banishing mind from the universe. The Church, Chesterton said, ‗knows there are many other evolutionary theories besides the Darwinian theory, and that the latter is quite likely to be eliminated by later science. It does not, in the conventional phrase, accept the conclusions of science, for the simple reason that science has not concluded.’ Indeed, science had not, and Sir James Gray, Professor Emeritus of Zoology at Cambridge, reviewing a book on natural selection in 1954, foretold rightly that there might be some heart-searching, and there certainly would be much discussion, when the centenary of The Origin of Species came round.

NeoDarwinianism, we are now told by scientists, is guilty of an essential ‗triviality.’ ‗It does not and cannot . . . explain the really important events of evolution.’ ‗A living organism,’ wrote John Davy in The Observer for February 8, 1970, ‗can function because a coherent pattern is imposed on the parts of which it consists-the organs are subservient to the organism, the tissues serve the organs, the cells serve the tissues, proteins and other substances serve the cells.’ But who traced the pattern and imposed it? ‗This,’ Davy commented, ‗recalls a very old argument which was used to demonstrate the need for a Divine Designer. You can investigate the cogwheels of a watch in inexhaustive detail, and produce learned theses on the metallurgy of mainsprings, without explaining the most important feature of a watch, which is that its parts are assembled in a coherent pattern which allows the wearer to tell the time. . . . The ultimate source of a watch’s organisation is the mind of its designer. The biologists’ problem . . . is to find a ―designer‖, or a hierarchy of ―designers‖ in the cell, the liver, the organism (there is no desire to introduce a supernatural Designer . . . ).’ Once again, the biologists are trying to solve a problem by moving it one back. Even if they locate some sort of control-centre in this or that area of the body, the problemis still to be resolved: who located it and traced the total design? ‗There is no desire to introduce a supernatural Designer . . . ‘ is gently said. The design, all admit, is intelligent . . . then so must be the designer. Is ‗no desire’ a euphemism for ‗blind refusal’?

Atheism, then, accounts for nothing: Natural Selection accounts for some variations and survivals, but we have still the overwhelming evidence of design in the universe to account for- and it is so vast and so intricate that it could no mor e have happened by chance than, as Shaw suggested, the miles of books in the British Museum could have written themselves.

DESIGN FOR LIVING

The progress of science, far from discrediting Paley’s watch, reveals more and more of the incredible complexity and brilliance of the designs all around us. Around us? Inside us! In October of 1957, Mr T. E. Goldup, addressing the Institution of Electrical Engineers of London, of which society he was president, pointed out some of the complexity of design. Within our heads, he said, we have a brain consisting of some 10,000 million cells—about 13 times the world electronic industry’s production of valves in 1956. ‗Among its countless other functions, our brain includes the equivalent of a compatible black-and-white and colour television system, a sound recording and reproducing system, and an ability to recognize complex patterns which outstrip any practical mechanical or electronic equipment.’

‗If it were possible to construct a machine able to perform the same functions as the human brain, it would have to be largely electronic; if we brought together all the necessary component parts and could then in some miraculous way solve the vast problem of connecting them together, we should still be faced with the fact that even with the most reliable modern components, several hundreds would be faulty at any given moment.’

Can a man accept that a watch could come into existence without a watchmaker, or a television set without an electronic engineer? Then what conclusion are we driven to when we look at the vastly more brilliant designs for which no human being traced the blueprint? It is almost sixty years since J. Bell Pettigrew published his monumental work Design in Nature and it is still of interest today. Writing, for example, of the Intelligence of Bees (Vol. 2, p. 919), he deals with the bees’ ‗knowledge’ of the principles of solid geometry as shown in their building of that multi-hexagon, the honeycomb: ‗It is a curious mathematical problem at which precise angle the three planes which compose the bottom of a cell ought to meet, in order to make the greatest possible saving, or the least expense of material and labour. This is one of the problems which belongs to the higher parts of mathematics. The ingenious Maclaurin has determined precisely the angle required, and he found, by the most exact mensuration the subject would admit, that it is the very angle in which the three planes at the bottom of the cell of (the double) honeycomb do actually meet.’

THE MATHEMATICIAN?

Yet no one imagines that the bee performs mathematical calculations. The solution to the mathematical problems had to be built-in, together with the eye, the wing and the sting . . . just as a man must design, build and ‗feed’ a computer before it can do its tricks.

The mention of mathematics calls to mind a nonsensical statement which Dr John Robinson, then Bishop of Woolwich, made in‗Our Image of God must Go’ (The Observer, March 17, 1963). ‗Professor Bondi,’ he said, ‗commenting in the B.B.C. television programme, The Cosmologists, on Sir James Jeans’s assertion that ―God is a great mathematician,‖ stated quite correctly that what he should have said is that ―Mathematics is God.‖ Reality, in other words, can finally be reduced to mathematical formulae.’ But ‗Mathematics is God’ is meaningless, since mathematics is a system of reasoning, not a person. Nor is it exact to speak of God as a great mathematician since the word has for us the _connotation of one who, with pencil and paper, has to work laboriously to discover truth. It would be truer to say that God, in his construction of the universe, manifested the knowledge which we can only reach, in part, by mathematical reasoning. Every-where he has illustrated his ideas!

Alfred Noyes once wrote, ‗under the scrutiny of the more philosophical science of our own day, ―matter‖ itself is dissolving into the realm of ideas, and . . . ideas appertain to a Mind.’ This is the mind which instilled the principles of solid geometry into the bee; which installed the radar set of the bat, emitting and decoding two hundred squeaks a second as it closes on its prey, squeaks which last less than athousandth of a second. (Those who have read Leonard Dubkin’s The White Lady will know how efficient that radar is, for he tells of a bat which flew repeatedly through the blades of an electric fan which was running at 800 revolutions per minute- allowing the fan to have three blades, then, in effect, forty blades slice past any given point each second!) So we come back to Voltaire who stated in his Philosophical Dictionary that ‗Either the stars themselves are great geometricians, or the eternal Geometer has arranged them.’ He suggested, too, that we should prove the existence of God by opening our eyes. That is exactly what I propose to do in the second part of this pamphlet. God, we shall see, stares us in the eye.

THE ORGAN OF SIGHT . . . AND THE ORGANIZER

The Encyclopaedia Britannica states bluntly: ‗In all vertebrates, including man, the eye is built according to the plan of a camera.’ Bravely said—the eye is built according to a plan! This is a far-cry from the language of Natural Selection and it brings to mind what Professor W. Macneile Dixon wrote in The Human Situation after pushing aside ‗the term evolution as but a mask for our ignorance. ‖Take the eye alone,’ he wrote. ‗The germ (cell) contains the ability, among other odds and ends, to produce a retinal surface sensitive to light, which can distinguish between vibrations of 450 million millions a second, which give the sensation red, and 750 million millions a second, which give the sensation of violet.’

‗How did it come about that the eye responds exactly to a certain series of wave lengths among an immense series, picks out these waves from a multitude of others? . . . if you can satisfy yourself that these accomplishments, these endless varieties of behaviour to meet unforeseen contingencies arose out of haphazard collections of atoms in a white-hot gas, at a temperature of a million degrees, out of an incandescent maelstrom of darting electric flashes, if you are satisfied that any evolution theory can on this basis, juggling with genes, account for life and mind, I quit the field in your favour. . . . For my part I am struck dumb.’

He went on: ‗If you propose to account for the eye, for example, the need for it, its value must be considered. To suppose it an accidental variation is sheer absurdity. For it appeared not in one line of evolution alone. As Bergson pointed out, the cuttlefish and the vertebrates, creatures not related to each other, both developed eyes on their own account in wholly different ways, and from different parts of the organism. Each was its own architect: each had the same end in view, but they took different routes to that end. Some fish provided themselves with a bi-focal arrangement, for sight not only in water, but in air. The eye of the bird is adapted both tonear and far vision. The butterfly’s eye contains five thousand lenses and fifty thousand nerves. These various eyes were means to certain definite ends, the very obvious end in each case that the creature might have the advantage of vision, and that advantage of a kind specially suited to its own way of life. Except by reference to the purpose or use of these eyes you can say nothing sensible or intelligible about them. . . . There are in the optic nerve half a million fibres, and some millions of cells in the retina. They work in concert.’ Perhaps the eye should be to us a source of deeper wonder than thestars.’

It was considerations of this kind which made Bernard Shaw cry out, ‗When a man tells you that you are a product of Circumstantial Selection solely . . . you can only tell him out of the depths of your inner conviction that he is a fool and a liar.’

The Designer stares you, then, in the eye, and perhaps stares at you unnervingly. Darwin confessed that there was a time when the thought of the eye made him cold all over. Shutting his eyes adjusted the thermostat! But that is too easy; we have to look at God, in the eye.

LENSES

The eye, the Encyclopaedia Britannica, declared, is built according to the plan of a camera. The reader may find the comparisonbetween camera and eye made in the Encyclopaedia or elsewhere. He will learn of the lens, of the eye’s choroid (equivalent to the black, non-reflecting paint inside the camera), of the iris, and so on. Here we may take these facts as common knowledge. What we are concerned with is to throw light on the less well-known complexities which cry for belief in a Designer.

We have a lens at the front of each eye, and we have seen that an insect has a bank of thousands of lenses in its eye. Easily accepted . . . until we open (say) Arthur Cox’s A System of Optical Design, expecting to find plates and drawings, only to find to our dismay that we are faced with page after page of complicated mathematics. In the editorial of The Amateur Photographer for August 16, 1961, we read this: ‗The electronic computer comes into the picture (of lens design) because of the enormous number of calculations entering into the design of a lens. . . . In working out one well-known lens, a team of 25 full-time mathematicians, with everything short of an electronic computer to help them, had to work continuously for eight months.’

I have read, too, that when the designer of the Cooke lens (H. D. Taylor) had completed his work, he papered all the walls of his office, from floor to ceiling, with the pages of calculations that he had had to make. He would not have taken kindly to the idea of a lens as a ‗random variation’ ! The eye? . . . Darwin spoke of the ‗living optical instrument’ which is ‗as superior to one of glass, as the works of the creator are to those of man.’

SENSITIVITY

And now some remarks about the sensitivity of the eye to light, and the receptor system which makes it so sensitive. If you buy a camera which has an expensive ‗fast’ lens, with apertures ranging from f/1.4, its widest, down to f/22, its smallest, you can boast of an instrument which has an exposure range, in varying light, of 250:1. The range of films will extend this adaptability about eight times, and thus your camera will cope with a range of 2000:1, leaving aside the wonders which modern developers can work. The two lenses, however, with which you arrived complete at birth, have a range of 10,000,000,000:1, which can handle anything from high noon in Texas down to match-light in the coal-cellar in December. You have deep reason to be grateful- as has the bee when it looks through the thousands of its hexagonal lenses at the hexagons which it has constructed so brilliantly in its honeycomb.

THE RETINA

In the camera, the lens focusses the picture on to the film which is light-sensitive. In the eye, the part of the film is played by the retina, the innermost lining of the eye, which is only a fraction of a millimetre thick and yet so complicated that S. L. Polyak was able to devote 448 pages of text to it in his work The Retina. As an article by John Davy in The Observer colour supplement (December 7, 1969) noted: ‗Far from being a passive photographic plate, the retina is a very respectable little brain on its own account.’ It is, indeed, so complex that a perusal of Hugh Dayson’s The Physiology of the Eye reveals that this fantastic tissue is composed of anything up to 150 million rods and about 7 million cones, and these are so minute that the light-microscope shows the rod to be only a two-millionth part ofa metre thick. ‗The anatomy of the eye,’ Davy wrote in the article quoted, ‗makes the most complex camera look foolishly primitive’—and yet what ingenuity has gone into the planning of the Contarex or Hasselblad!

The rods and cones are the light-receptors which send the photo-electric signals up the half-million fibres of the optic nerve to the brain, which has then to interpret the upside-down picture, see it in colour and perspective. The cones are much less sensitive to light than are the rods, but they have the distinction of being colour-sensitive whereas the rods can deal only in black-and-white. Thus the cones are used in brighter light conditions, leaving the rods to do all the work when the light fails. That is why, as dusk falls, your colour vision packs in. Red is the first casualty, with green following on its heels, and then blue- which explains why, as you walk along a country lane at dusk, the Midland Red bus will seem to you to have been dyed grey, in spite of the fact that the hedges still remain green.

SYSTEM WITHIN SYSTEM

It is obvious from this, then, that the power of the,eye to adjust to changing light conditions is not just a matter of the iris of the eye widening or narrowing (as does the iris diaphragm in a camera) though the iris will play its part. (Watch the cat as it comes out of the coal-cellar into bright light and you will see the rapid contraction of the pupil as it adjusts.) The machinery of the eye is far more complex, as if one had a camera which automatically switched from one type of film to another as the light fluctuated. Hugh Dayson speaks not only of the rod and cone mechanisms in the retina- a fraction of a millimetre thick and they detect ten layers in it!- but in fact of five distinct mechanisms to be found in the cones. Leaving aside such complexity-within-complexity of delicate design, we may mention that the cones are thickest round the fovea, the centre pit in the retina (about 1 mm. across) and appear under a powerful microscope as a mosaic of hexagons. G. L. Johnson in Photography in Colours mentions that throughout the retina we have a yellow colour-filter built in, and is convinced that this serves exactly the same purpose as the cameraman’s yellow filter, bringing out white clouds against blue skies. As there are no blood-vessels at the fovea where they would detract from the most acute perception, the Designer has compensated by installing there the macula or ‗yellow spot.’ Perhaps you have never heard before of the fovea with its cluster of cones without rods (cones which are unsuited to failing light), but you have always acted as if you knew. In poor light, you have not looked at print straight on, but have relegated the fovea and its ‗cones by unconsciously looking at the book sideways.

CONCLUSION

God stares us, then, in the eye. It is a miracle of delicate and intricate design, so ‗complete’ that, if a speck of dirt invades its territory, it automatically waters to wash away the dirt, and manufactures lysozyme, a disinfectant, in the water to counteract infection. As design speaks of de-signer, every eye is in a true sense the eye of God; his image is on every retina, and we see all things through the eyes of God. And it is the eye of reason, not faith or superstition, which sees this. But step back now from this study of the eye, which is, after all, only one tiny part of the human organism, and remember that every section of the body- ear, brain, heart, etc.- is equally eloquent of planning. All these are organs, parts which work in concert for the purposes of the Whole Man, and intricate organs spell organization and organization demands an Organizer. Apart from this, design after design surrounds you, not only in the world of animals and plants but even in the realm of what we used to think was inert matter. Now we know that even a grain of sand is charged and harnessed, with its own solar system of neutrons anddlectrons and its own important balance of power. Our child-hood catechism said, ‗God is everywhere.’ ‗Everywhere, everywhere!’ echoes science, finding in all material things the mark of the Designer as one finds the mason’s mark on the stones of an old cathedral.

Near the end of the 17th century, a brooch of gold and enamel, some two inches long,with a carved boar’s snout, was dug up at Athelney. It is preserved now in the Ashmolean museum in Oxford, and it bears the inscription ‗Aelfred mec hect gewyrcan’ (‗Alfred had me made’). Yes, it was made for Alfred who broke the Danes in the 9th century and it glories in its designer. There is no such inscription on you, or your eye. And yet, as we have seen, it is there for all to read . . . ‗God made me.’ You are his masterpiece, and, like all masterpieces, precious to the Mind or Heart that conceived it. At some time in your life, you may have strayed into a woodcarver’s shop (in the Tyrol, perhaps?) and come upon a piece of perfection that you felt you had to buy, only to be told firmly, ‗That is not for sale.’ His masterpiece—he could not bear to part with it! Nor will God part with you, if you will have him.

********

God, Truth, And Thirteen

(A CONVERSION STORY)

BY SISTER MARY GWEN, S.M.S.M

INDEX

The two parts of this booklet were originally given as talks during the Catholic Hour, Station 3AW, Melbourne.

PART 1

I have been asked to tell you the story of my conversion. I would rather tell you of the love of Mary, our Mother, which followed and surrounded me for more than half a century, until it led me, four and a half years ago, into the Catholic Church; and into the Congregation of the Missionary Sisters of the Society of Mary, a Congregation where now I bear her name.

Come with me, for a moment, to nineteenth century London, to one of those tall, narrow, large-roomed houses near the banks of the Thames; a Victorian home of massive furniture and four-poster beds, of countless ornaments and innumerable draperies; a home where generosity, sacrifice and service were daily made vivid realities; for my father gave all his spare moments and moneys to the poor of South London, and my mother to her household duties added the care of two invalids, my youngest brother and my aunt; above all to a home which, steeped in the Protestant and Low Church Anglican tradition, was filled in all honesty of conviction with a deep aversion for anything and every thing to do with the name Catholic.

The story began when I was one! Of course I only learnt it later. My eldest brother, then a school boy of thirteen years, brought consternation into the home by announcing his desire to become a Catholic. Needless to say the answer he got was NO. He must wait. Wait until he was twenty-one. He was not yet of age to know. Time might, and probably would, change his mind. But my brother was not of the kind that changes his mind. He resolved to wait. The school boy friend who had taken him to a Catholic Church was banned the home. In silence, but with steady will, my brother kept to his decision.

Six years passed. The consternation of earlier years seemed likely to turn to tragedy. It was my brother’ s intention now not only to become a Catholic at twenty-one, but also to marry one! But tragedy was averted. No rift occurred to mar that happy home; for there, complete surrender to God’s Will in every tiny detail of life, reigned supreme. With the wisdom of parents whose love for God and their children overrules all prejudices, the young Irish Catholic girl was made a welcome visitor. Sunday after Sunday found her in her place at that family dinner table. Religious differences were set aside.

One morning, after such a visit, my mother thought it time to tell me, her seven-year-old daughter, that my brother was going to marry this girl, that she was a Catholic and that he would become one. I had just finished a piece of dictation, for my mother taught me at home every morning. I had never heard the word Catholic before. I put down my pencil, I remember it was blue! And said, “Mummy, what is a Catholic?” My mother waited, thinking. She in her turn, put down her sewing. Then very seriously and quietly she said: “My darling, Catholics worship the Virgin Mary in place of God.”

Catholics worship the Virgin Mary in place of God. So she really thought. Nine words. That’s all. But words never forgotten. It was one of those moments that mould the future of one’s life. Brought up to put God first in everything, no matter what the cost, even at the age of seven, horror filled my heart. So that’s what Catholics were! They put someone in the place of God. They were idolaters! I knew. My mother taught me Bible stories. I knew what happened to idolaters. I knew about the Israelites and the golden calf. I knew what happened to people who disobeyed God’s laws. I put my books away and went into the garden. What would happen to my brother? Would fire fall from heaven? Would plague strike him? Would one of the cracks in that dry lawn open and swallow him? And I prayed. God, never let me be a Catholic!

Some years later as a teen-ager in company with my school fellows we sat for a public examination in a large Convent School. There were hundreds of girls present. At the end of that week the Nuns said that we had been good girls, we could go in and see their Chapel. The girls all went in, hundreds of them. But one stayed outside, because she was not going into a place where the Virgin Mary was worshipped in place of God! Those words of eight years ago still stood out like beacon lights.

In that home, aversion for everything Catholic was only exceeded by mistrust and dislike of Nuns. My father said he never passed a Nun on the same pavement. He always crossed over the road. As his offices were next to a large Convent I used to think he must cross the road many times a day! For those Nuns were constantly out ministering to the sick and the poor. It was a peep gained one day through an open door in the high brick wall of that very Convent that helped my sister, years later, towards the Church. For through that door she saw grass and flowers and a Nun playing with school children. That glimpse of beauty and happiness made her think that Nuns perhaps were not really quite so bad after all! So God uses the little things of life.

The day came when my brother was received into the Church. I was not allowed to know anything of it at the time. It was more than 40 years later before I knew of myfather’s words that day. All he said to his son was “Well my boy, if you must be a Catholic, all I say is-BE A GOOD ONE.”

The years sped on. Many waters flowed under the bridge of life. I passed from school to the London University, graduating in science, and then to the science staff of a London secondary school. More vital still I passed from Low Church Anglican to zeal for and complete conviction of the doctrines of High Church Anglicanism. I was proud to call myself an Anglo-Catholic and pleased to point out that this was not the Roman species! It took forty years for me to learn how true this was!

Meanwhile God stepped in again. This time with the desire to be a missionary. Long years before as a little child I had seen African students out walking one day, I had startled my mother whispering to her the great secret that one day I would marry an African! Perhaps that was the birth of a missionary vocation! Soon there came the dawn of a religious vocation. For two years the missionary and Sister ideas strove for precedence. Then came a breakdown and doctors’ orders for the rest of life-country quiet and rest! But in the time of illness the problem drew to solution. Perhaps it was possible to be both Sister and missionary. Yes, even in the Anglican Church I found such double vocation existed. That did not call to a life of quiet and rest. Well, if God calls He always gives the grace and strength to fulfil. So, trusting in His strength, I entered an Anglican religious Missionary Order in England. Within a year I was out in India, and in time I was one of a small Anglican Community in the British Solomon Islands.

Meanwhile in England changes had occurred. The sister who had seen the little children through the Convent door was now a Catholic. There were Catholic nephews and nieces too from my brother’s family in India. Four years later, at 72 years, my mother was also received into the Church. She no longer thought that Catholics worship the Virgin Mary in place of God. The one-time seven-year-old girl now a missionary sister in the Solomons alone remained outside the Church.

The interests of a large girls’ school in the Islands occupied our thoughts and interests for many years. The creation of an education suited to the needs of native girls, agriculture, baby care, handcrafts, filled the days. Then came war and a year in the bush hiding from the Japs. Evacuation to the New Hebrides followed and, when peace came, a visit to England. One event stood out that year. It was 1946. With as far-reaching consequences as my mother’s remark years before. I went with my sister to a Catholic Retreat. As I look back now I know this was the turning point. God spoke then and I had a sense that there lay Truth, but I was not conscious of this. His time was not yet. When the time came He would lead into all Truth as He had promised.

My sister praying earnestly for my conversion told me later that she had thrown me into the arms of St. Therese of Lisieux and received complete assurance that I should come in. However when I left England again for that wee Pacific Island-you can walk all round it in 20 minutes-she wondered how it could ever be. But no matter if one lives on a pin prick in the middle of the Pacific, all times and places are known to God. And the Hound of Heaven was hot upon the trail.

It happened one evening. An unforgettable date, May 17, 1949. A launch dropped the mail ashore just at 6 P.M. when it was supper time. I threw my letters through a window of my leaf house on to the bed and went to supervise the filling of children’s plates with piles of hot yams. It was God’s planning. There was no time to think of those letters until all those brown children were asleep under their mosquito nets, and only the lap of the waves on the shore broke the silence of the tropical night.

I went to my room. A leaf house of sage palm thatch. A sandy floor. A bed. On it lay three air-mail letters. The first my sister’s. The second my superior’s, Mother Margaret. She was away in England. The third from a convert friend of my sister’s. In it lay a little card. All it said was that my name would be remembered at Mass at the Convent where I had made that Retreat in England. Remembered at Mass. There. Prayers there, for me. By the priest. At Mass. And God spoke. I knew. I cried out,”Oh Lord, I can’t stand against that.” Can’t stand against prayers for me at Mass. Then I realized what I had said. “Stand against.” Yes; that is what I was doing. Like St. Paul, standing against Christ. Against Truth. I did know where Truth lay. In those brief seconds the quest of life was ended. I knew. There is only one Home of Truth and that lay in the Church from which I had turned away for half a century. Oh, the mercy of God!

“I fled Him down the nights and down the days,

I fled Him down the arches of the years,

I fled Him down the labyrinthine ways of my own mind,

Yet

Those strong Feet followed, followed after.”

What next? This was but a beginning. There was no one there with whom I could share my secret. For six months I locked it up with God. Then Mother Margaret returned from England where she had stayed much with my sister. No word during the year and a half in which she had been away between us about the Catholic Church. Yet, separated all that time by 12,000 miles of land and water, God had been guiding us both towards the same goal. We talked together her first evening. Our minds turned to the Catholic Faith. She said, “You know, I think it is the true Church.” And there in that same leaf hut that had seen those letters opened six months before I put out my hand on hers and said, “Yes, I know it is, and I am going to it.” We had worked together for 27 years as Anglican Sisters. Together we found the Faith. Unknown to each other God had led us both the same path.

Not long after that we saw His Lordship, Bishop Aubin of the Society of Mary, Vicar Apostolic of the South Solomons. He had been our friend for many years. We knew the Fathers also, of the same Society. During the next six months God guided each Sister in our little Anglican Community, white and brown, and in the end it was all 13 of us who asked for instruction together in the Catholic Church in the South Solomons.

There we were lovingly welcomed and cared for by the Catholic Sisters of the Congregation of the Missionary Sisters of the Society of Mary. At once I saw in them the realization of all my aspirations through the years. Here was a Congregation, Sisters and Missionaries, working throughout many Island groups of the South West Pacific. Schools, Nurseries, Hospitals, Clinics, Parishes, Leprosaria. Each day unfolded to me something more of their Mission Field and of the Home training Bases in Europe, America, New Zealand and Australia. What vast and varied experience must be theirs. Moreover they were themselves a little United Nations. There on that one Mission Station were Sisters from several countries of the British Commonwealth of Nations, as well as Sisters from America, France, Germany, Yugoslavia (as it then was) and Italy. Here they were wearing the same habit, teaching the same Faith, sharing the ups and downs, joys and privations of missionary life. I thought of Our Lord’s words: “That they all may be one.” Here lay the answer to the world’s diversions and divisions . . .”One Lord, One Faith, One Baptism.”

But more than all their diversity of works and nationalities was their union in Mary. They were Missionary Sisters of the Society ofMary. Of Mary. Yes, I had learnt now. Long ago was the day when I had heard, “They worship the Virgin Mary in place of God.” Now I understood. “They found the Child with Mary His Mother.” So it would always be. In love for the Mother was enshrined the truth of the Incarnation of Her Son. To take from Her was to take from Him. Devotion to Her was to give glory to Him. God gave Jesus to us through His Mother. As Maurice Zundel has written:

“She is not the Source, but the Channel through which Jesus flows to us. She is not wisdom, but the Seat of Wisdom. She is not life, but the enclosed garden in which the river of life springs up. In Mary as in the Church, it is Jesus we meet.”

For one who had for so many years turned her back on the Mother of God in mistaken superstition and prejudice, what more fitting reparation and privilege than to dedicate the rest of life’s scanty days, if God so willed, in her Society? But half a century had gone by. Was a noviciate possible? With God all things are possible. So by the mercy and grace of God, six months after my reception into the Church, which took place on the 25th anniversary of my Anglican profession, I was allowed to enter the Australian noviciate, at Queen of the Missions Convent, Wahroonga, Sydney, of these same Missionary Sisters of the Society of Mary with whom I had lived in the Solomons.

And again by His mercy and grace and the care of His Mother, He led me through to my Profession last year [1955]. And now with hundreds of other Missionary Sisters of the Society of Mary, brown and white, Asiatic and Pacific Islander, European, American, British, I bear the name of Mary and render to her the loving homage of the years when I mistakenly thought that to love Mary was to take love from the Son. I see now that Mary effaces herself in Jesus; and because he who humbles himself shall be exalted, we hail her Mother of God, Queen of the Missions, Immaculate Queen of Heaven.

PART 2

“WHAT COLOUR IS GOD”

This short talk begins with a word picture -a true one. It is evening on a tiny Island in the Pacific. The full moon has risen above the line of low hills of the adjacent Island. The shore and Mission Station are bathed in the soft serenity of the tropical moonlight. Every detail of the scene is clear. It is a girls’ School. It is the evening hour of relaxation after the business of the day. A day spent in learning to do many things, and all things, well for God. Lessons in the class rooms? Yes. But also out in the school gardens where working in teams the girls learn to grow their own food, using the best methods of agricultural science; in the nursery for motherless babies; in the dispensary; in the kitchen; in preparing and weaving the leaves for mats, baskets and beds. It has been a day full of interests and work for all, Sisters and children.

Look now at the moonlit scene along the seashore. Here is a group of children piling high the sand in strenuous efforts to reproduce the miniature sand-tray models of the South Solomon Islands they had made that afternoon in School. Now Guadalcanal is already five feet high and San Cristobal and Malaita are rising rapidly.

Up there on the grass, youngsters, who still have energy left after three hours of hoeing and digging in the garden, are dancing. In two lines, with rhythmic beat of the feet and graceful movement of the arms, they move backwards and forwards while their little friends, squatting at the side, croon the words of the native song.

Under the banyan tree two elder girls are finishing a basket, left unfinished when duty called them to help their younger schoolfellows in the dispensary. Near by a group of four sit facing one another, each intently bent on perfecting the art of juggling with the ball-like seeds of the calophyllum tree. With rhythm and clapping they keep several balls in the air at one time, and also pass them deftly to one another.

A white Sister walks up and down a path in company with a native Sister and an older girl. They are discussing the plans for tomorrow’s work in the garden. Down on the shore apart from the others another white Sister is seated on a log by the side of a little girl. {This Sister later entered the Carmelite Order. At the time all the Community were still Anglicans.} The waves lap a few yards from their feet. Those two sit silently for the most part, silent in the silence of friendship and understanding, though the small figure is but nine years old.

Behind them a dim light burns in a leaf hut. There, under the supervision of a native Sister, several girls are tidying away the bottles, spoons and tins of milk after feeding the line of motherless babies who now hang contentedly in their small hammocks, south Indian fashion. Nine years ago that little girl on the shore had hung, a motherless babe of three days old, in such a hammock, on this very island, her frail little life tenderly nursed by the Sister now sitting at her side.

War had separated them, but they are together again. The child remains silent, and the Sister wonders what is passing under that closely curling hair. Then, suddenly a brown arm is laid beside her own white one, and a little voice says: “You are white . . . I . . . I am only brown.” “Only brown.” A tone of despising is detected by the sensitive ear of the Sister. A prayer went darting to heaven for guidance, then Sister said: “Oh, but that is lovely. Jesus was not a white Man, Jesus was more like you, brown, like so-andso”-and she mentioned the name of a fair Polynesian girl in the school. There was silence again. Then: “Was He?” “Oh, yes,” said Sister, and she went on to refer to the pale brown Figure on the Crucifix which the Sisters had had specially carved for their Solomon Island children.

Silence fell again. The waves crept nearer. Then suddenly, like an arrow from a bow, came the question: “THEN, WHAT COLOUR IS GOD?” What Colour is God? The question of a nine-year-old Melanesian child. Quickly the Sister realized that here was a crisis. Here was the problem that had somehow occupied that small brown curly head for weeks. Here was the reason for the long silences. She waited, praying earnestly. Some of us would perhaps have been disconcerted. After a moment or two the Sister spoke. With heavenly inspiration the words came: “God is Light. Light is made up of all colours. God is the Father of all men andof all colours.” It was a poetic answer: streaked with science and theology. It brought contentment to the child at her side. A small brown hand slipped inside a white one.

* * * *

“What colour is God?” Is not this the cry of the human soul down through the ages; the cry to know what God is like, the half conscious cry of many; the half ashamed cry of some. It was for this Christ came. To show men the Fatherhood of God. The Brotherhood of man. To show us the path to the goal. To give us the answer to the question.

And where did Christ leave that answer? Is it written across the skies for all to read at their ease, as a plane lays the letters in a smoke trail? Is it proclaimed by angels’ trumpets from across ocean to ocean, from hill to hill? Will God give a separate revelation to each single soul? No. That precious answer will be entrusted to men. Man might take the message to his fellow man.

Two thousand years ago the Feet of Christ tramped the lanes and paths of Galilee taking to men the message of love and mercy. Today God waits, waits for our feet to walk the icy waters, to tramp the muddy jungles, to plod the thronged pavements of our crowded cities.

Two thousand years ago the Voice of Christ spoke words of teaching and of comfort to the children, men and women of Galilee. Today God waits, waits for our voices to proclaim that teaching and bring comfort to our fellow man.

Two thousand years ago the Hands of Christ touched the sick and diseased, bringing to them relief and cure. Today God waits, waits for our hands to tend the sick, care for the young, succour the aged. Yes, Christ left man to carry His message to our fellow men. And if our feet go not; if our voices are dumb; if our hands do not His work of mercy, then the message is not taken. God waits and waits in vain. The hungry sheep are not fed, the ignorant are not taught. The sick lie unwashed and unkept.

Maybe Christ waits for you. Here is the greatest adventure of all time. Here is the greatest Call under the greatest Leader. A Call to be the Feet, the Voice, the Hands of Christ to fellowmen.

Will the way be easy? Do we look for ease?

In the dark hours of 1940 when England stood alone with the Commonwealth of Nations against the forces of evil, God gave our nations a human leader who did not promise an easy road or victory but called his countrymen to “Blood and Sweat and Tears.” In response to that call men and women left their homes and their offices, their work and their play, their leisure and their pleasure, and counting not the cost were ready to lay down their lives for the cause.

Today Christ calls. Will we give Him less? To carry His message of love and mercy He may ask us to walk the path of Calvary with Him. Will we share His loneliness on a Pacific Island? Will we be one with Him in His thirst in the torrid heat? Will we be weary in travel with Him as He lay in a boat, asleep? Will we be misunderstood by our relatives and friends, as He was? Are we ready to be thought even a fool by them? Was He not called Beelzebub? The world cries out for Christ today. Though it be to blood and sweat and tears, will we go?

Christ said go! Go to all nations! Go to the ends of the earth. For what? To teach. To baptize. To bring Christ into the lives and customs of those who know Him not. To add the star of another tribe or place to the diadem of Christ. To put another jewel into Our Lady’s Crown. To bring Christ into the heathen culture and material indifferentism of the world today.

Schools, hospitals, clinics, social welfare, are all items of missionary work. They are necessary. They have their place. They demand from the missionary of today, talents, trades, knowledge, efficiency. We have often to be Jack-of-all-trades and masters of several. And through all this the fundamental call of Christ to bring the message of the loving Fatherhood of God to all men, for “He is the Father of all men of all colours,” shines out unflinchingly, strong, clear.

The need is urgent. Maybe the time is short. Around the Isles of the Pacific curl the waves of atheistic materialism, inter-racial antagonisms, national complexes, new ideologies, the problems of a primitive people in contact with the twentieth (and twenty-first) century, and the broken witness of a divided so-called Christianity.

When giant waves threaten to engulf our coasts we rush to the place of conflict, men, money, machines. Out there in the Pacific, against these other ugly waves of today the Church needs to rush to the conflict men and women, priests, sisters, brothers, and active lay-folk, more and more of them; money for the work, money for the workers; and machines, especially the one machine of God-prayer.

There lies a stupendous task. Who is sufficient? Our sufficiency is of God. He ever uses the weak things of the world to confound the strong. Two thousand years ago He left His work in the hands of twelve fishermen. About one hundred years ago, [around 1840] the Holy Father put those Isles of the Pacific into the care of the Fathers of the Society of Mary. A little thing to a small band of men. The Fathers and Missionary Sisters of that Society of Mary have carried that message from Island group to Island group. Other Congregations now join the work. The mustard seed has grown. The peoples of many Islands now nest in the tree of Mother Church. With the tree grows also the needs. The need for the machine of prayer. The need for the feet and voices, and hands of men and women to minister to fellow men. Twelve men with burning faith turned the world upside down. Will the Church today do less? What do we need? A sense of right values. A burning faith. A dauntless zeal. All that is born of God overcomes the world. This is the victory that overcomes the world, our Faith.

Christ calls. Will your feet go for His? Will your voice speak for His? Will your hands serve for His?

Our Lady, Mother of Christians, Queen of the Missions, looks down on the world as long ago she looked at these empty wine pots in Cana. She looks down on Islands and villages, on schools, and hospitals, on parishes and churches. And often she must say: See there, they have no Sister, see here, they have no priest. They have no Brother. And perhaps some of you as you think on these things will hear her saying as she said to those servants in Cana:

“Whatever He says to you, do it.”

********

God’s Doorkeeper

SAINT CONRAD OF PARZHAM, CAPUCHIN LAYBROTHER

BY FATHER ALOYSIUS, O.M.CAP

INDEX

NOTE

The facts related in this short sketch are taken chiefly from the most interesting account, “Blessed Conrad of Parzham,” by the Vice-Postulator of the Cause, Father Joseph Anthony, O.M.Cap. (translated by Father Andrew Neufield, O.M.Cap). This competent biographer can claim unique authority and had intimate acquaintance with the details of the story. Indeed, our only reason for compiling this outline of the life of the Saint is to secure a wider circulation, and to bring this simple, but beautiful, career of sanctity to the knowledge of people who might not have an opportunity of perusing the larger volume. It may, too, help to awaken an interest that will lead to a demand for a worthier and more complete biography. We have also consulted the scholarly treatise by Father Dunstan, O.S.F.C. (Greyfriars, Oxford), and articles in periodicals, in particular, the Father Mathew Record, the Capuchin Annual and the Franciscan Annals.

In conformity with the decrees of Urban VIII., and other Roman Pontiffs, the author declares that no authority, other than purely human authority or tradition, is claimed for any incidents, favours or miracles alluded to, except those authenticated by the Holy See in the processes of Beatification and Canonisation

TIME vindicates justice and righteousness. But it is difficult to understand how the verdict of time given age after age-the wisdom of God manifested so clearly at every epoch of history, can still be ignored, and how the world of men will yet persist in pursuing the ways of injustice and folly. Christ was condemned to die between criminals; the world had triumphed, it seemed! Christ rose from the. dead and the religion which, it was thought, had died with Him, and which counted only a paltry following of ignorant men, carne forth with Him from the tomb. For a season, concealed in private houses, or buried in the catacombs, Christianity at length emerged from its hiding places, to preach in majestic Basilica and imperial court, the wisdom of God and the victory of the Crucified Christ. The forces of hell and the rulers of darkness are curbed for a while-but only for a while. They advance again to war against the Lord and His Christ; heresy, persecution, torture, prison, death combine to break the spirit of Christ’s disciples and to undo the achievements of His Church. It is in vain. He promised that the “gates of hell would not prevail against her,” (Matt. xvi., 18) and He said that “He would be with her all days, even to the end of time” (Matt. xxviii., 20). We see history repeating itself in every age; the victory of Easter Morn and Pentecost Sunday renewed again and again. And, today, after nineteen centuries, the standards of the world float defiantly, and men deny in their lives, if not always so loudly in their words, the claims of the Crucified. “I am the Way, the Truth and the Life” (John xiv., 6); the way is too narrow, the truth is too unpractical, the life is too constrained for the modern world-meekness and gentleness, self-denial and humility will get you nowhere. So, the old struggle goes on-the strife between paganism and Christianity, and paganism persists in asserting itself as shamelessly and brazenly as ever. Wicked men spend their lives deceiving their fellowmen, and designing men rise to power on dishonest professions of humanitarianism, only to die despised, and to be forgotten before their bones have decayed in the grave. But God’s word cannot fail; and, so, the Church, the standard-bearer of Christ, remains impregnable and triumphant. From the little City of the Vatican the voice of Pius proclaims the Gospel of his Crucified King, extols humility, poverty, self-denial and charity! There are men who listen to that teaching and who have the courage to translate it into their lives. Many of them never cross the confines of their native town; some of them are not known outside the narrow region of the field they till, or the factory in which they toil; others live their lives in the cloister, and their deeds are hidden from the observation of the world. Men may not recognise their usefulness; they have not failed, for they have realised the purpose of God in creating them, and in His eyes their lives are beautiful. Some of them are heroes and God will have the triumph of their virtues known that He may be glorified, and that the magnificent mission of His Church may justify itself before those who would deny her and deride her.

In recent times, we have had the Cure of Ars -St. John Mary Vianney, St. Therese of the Child Jesus, and the uneducated peasant child-St. Bernadette of Lourdes. Now it is the humble Capuchin Lay-brother, the Doorkeeper of the Friary of Altotting, in Bavaria. “How timely for our age is the edifying example of this pious, magnanimous lay-brother, the humble, lovable Brother Conrad of Parzham, who renounced all material possessions to devote himself to a life of self-denial in the austere garb of a Capuchin. What a contrast to worldly men! What an edifying subject for imitation!” (Pius XI., Aug. 15, 1928).

THE SAINT”S CHILDHOOD

Saint Conrad was born in Parzham, a small townland in Southern Bavaria. The valley of the Rott, extending along both sides of the River Rott, a tributary of the Inn, consists of rich land and yields abundant crops. It is divided up amongst an industrious farming community. The inhabitants are of good physique, and, generally, tall of stature and of light complexion. They are an honest, kindly people,, and are very much attached to their ancient customs and traditions. The little hamlet of Parzham occupies an eminence, and right on the top is the Venushof, a farm house with some one hundred acres of land, which was formerly the property of a Peter Venus, to whom it owed its name. Barbara, a daughter of the proprietor of the farm married George Birndorfer, a miller in the neighbouring village of Bayerbach, and, so, the Venushof passed into the possession of the Birndorfers. Bartholomew Birndorfer, the eldest son of this marriage, and Gertrude Niedmayer, were the parents of the future saint.

Bartholomew Birndorfer and his young wife endured severe hardship in the early days of their married life. Napoleon’s armies had beaten the Austrians at Eggmühl, and part of the defeated army, retreating through the valley of the Rott, was hotly pursued by the French troops. Many of the inhabitants abandoned their homes and fled before, the ruthless soldiery, and large areas were left tenantless and desolate. The Birndorfers remained on their farm, but it cost them a severe struggle and many sacrifices to eke out a meagre existence for themselves and the little family that was beginning to grow up around them. They accepted their lot with courage and trust in Providence.

In the year 1816, an exceptionally wet spring, with fierce gales and cloudbursts, was followed by an inclement harvest season and a severe winter, with the result that 1817 saw famine and distress widespread amongst the people. Happily, in 1818 there came a good supply of grain, and the anxiety of the peasants was relieved; hope and peace again lighted up their lives and gave promise of comfort and contentment. And, at the Venushof, there was an event which seemed a harbinger of happier days. Of the children already born of the marriage, they had lost two, chiefly through their inability to provide sufficient wholesome nourishment. Now, God sends them a little baby boy, and with him brighter prospects of happy days for the homestead. He was the ninth child, and was born on the 22nd December, 1818. The parents welcomed the little visitor with gladness and gratitude, and looked on him as a precious Christmas gift from a kind God. The Birndorfers were fervent Catholics whose first thought for the children with whom God blessed them was their souls” welfare, and no time was lost in securing the priceless grace of regeneration for their child. He was baptized on the day of his birth, and was called John Evangelist, after the beloved Disciple.

“The first school bench of the child,” it has been said, “is the arm of its mother, and the child’s first priedieu is its mother’s knee.” God bestowed on little John Birndorfer the inestimable blessing of an ideal Catholic home. “There is no family in the district as pious, modest and peaceful” was the verdict of an old man who worked for the Birndorfers for many years. Prayer, Christian doctrine and charity made this home an admirable nursery of solid virtue and intelligent piety. The parents gathered their children around them every, evening for family prayers. The Rosary of Mary was said in common, and during Holy Week the fifteen mysteries were recited daily. Religious reading and devout preparation for the reception of the Sacraments were regular features of this model family. Then the Venushof was noted for its hospitality, and the poor were treated with kindness, and even reverence. In the cold wintry months, it was a rare night that some tired traveller did not enjoy the shelter and warmth of the farm house, and generous provision of food. It would, we think, be difficult to apportion the share of that lesson of charity in the formation of the Christ-like character of the future disciple of the Poor Man of Assisi.

For the firstsix years, John’s teacher was his pious mother. In later years he will say that she was “his first novice master.” She taught him his first prayer anti she sowed deep in his child heart the seeds of faith and virtue. At the age of six he was sent to a school at Weng, a village about a halfhour’s walk from Parzham. The little fellow was industrious and intelligent. His conduct, too, was pious and blameless. In his presence, no one dared utter an unseemly word or a rude joke: “Here comes Johnny Birndorfer” was the signal to the company to be on its best behaviour. We have not found the record of the date of the child’s First Communion, but we may assume that the happy event took place in his seventh year, as early Communion was the practice at that period in the diocese of Passau.

Even in his tender years, John manifested an affectionate love for the Mother of God. On his way to school, on the road between Parzham and Weng, he recited the Rosary, and the boy, who, later in life, will be spoken of as “the Apostle of Mary,” persuaded several of his young school companions to join with him in telling Mary’s beads. After school hours the lad helped about the farm-drawing water, caring the cattle, running on messages, and doing various little jobs for his parents, or for his elder sisters and brothers.

HIS EARLY MANHOOD

Before many years his help on the farm will be more needed. He was fourteen and had only just left school when death claimed his beloved mother, and less than two years later his father died.

Themystery of the Cross fills a large part in the life of the follower of Christ: “No one is nearer to the Crucified King,” someone has said, “than the friend He crucifies in His mercy.” God had blessed the home of the Birndorfers at Parzham with everything that goes to build up happiness and holiness. In their early days of struggle the parents had experienced want and anxiety, and they had the sorrow of seeing two little darlings snatched from their arms by the angel of death. But those days were long since passed, and now there reigned peace, union, affection and holiness in that beautiful earthly paradise. The children knew nothing of worry or suffering. The Crucifix was there, the honoured standard of their faith, but its lessons were a far-off thing; the sufferings of the God-Man were the revelation of His love, but they asked no sacrifice from them except the voluntary acts of self-denial, which they were taught to offer up to Christ Crucified. Their love for God was now tried in the crucible of sorrow and their trust in God was put to the test. If there was one lesson that the children of the Venushof had been taught, it was confidence in a kind providence. And they met this crisis in their lives in a truly Christian spirit and with the conviction that God would never abandon them.

They were now called on to divide the care and cultivation of the farm between them. But their first step was to pay a tribute of reverence to the memory of their parents. They erected a monument over the grave and inscribed on it in verse the expression of their profound thankfulness.

John took the place of a farmhand on the land. His early training in a thoroughly Catholic home had fitted him for the battle of life; and we find him already understanding the secret of the sanctification of work-a lesson which his life will leave as a heritage of wisdom and holiness to men in every age and in every sphere of toil. He found time-he made time for prayer and other religious practices; he did not neglect his duty. He realised the worth of work, and consecrated and ennobled his labours through the abiding consciousness of God’s presence, and the use of ejaculatory prayer. He always carried his Rosary beads with him, and would say a decade between duties. He put up with a good deal of banter from his friends, and the other farm hands laughed at his piety. The young man’s only answer was to persevere; his grit and determination soon silenced the taunts and evoked admiration. Parents held him up for an example to their boys, and would encourage them to pray like Johnny Birndorfer. In the winter months work was not so continuous and did not begin at so early an hour, and this afforded John an opportunity for additional exercises of piety. When at all possible he assisted at daily Mass. To hear week-day Mass meant rising early and taking a long journey, and, perhaps, braving storm or snow or drenching rain, or wading through swollen streams. Witnesses tell that John was wont to stay in his place until he believed that everyone else had left the Church; then he would go right up to the altar, and, kneeling on the step, remained a long time in devout prayer before the Tabernacle. His favourite saints were, after Our Lady, St. Joseph, St. Francis of Assisi, and St. Conrad of Piacenza. At 18 years of age he chose Saint Aloysius as his patron and guardian, and throughout his life he had a very particular devotion to the Angelic Patron of Youth.

In the autumn of 1838 the Tercentenary of the Pilgrim Church of St. Anne, at Ering, was celebrated with a parish mission, which proved an epoch-making event in the district. Owing to the cruel conditions that had fettered religious liberty in Bavaria for over half a century, it had been impossible to hold a parish mission until now. Religious Orders had been expelled, pilgrimages and other manifestations of Catholic enthusiasm had been discouraged. It is scarcely surprising, then, that the mission should arouse intense interest, and the records of the parish tell us that as many as 5000 persons received the Sacraments during the eight days of the spiritual exercises, and, so vast were the attendances, that it was found necessary to have sermons preached in the open air. John Birndorfer was present at all the exercises, although the journey demanded asix hours” walk. He was then in his twentieth year, and there is no doubt that this mission very decidedly influenced the development of the spiritual life of the young man. He made a general Confession of his whole life, we are told, and his sister bore witness that there was a marked change in his conduct from that time. He was more reserved and thoughtful; he fasted more rigorously, and in other ways added to his practices of penance. But, whilst he grew more severe with himself, it was remarked that he became more gentle with others, and kind, especially to the poor. He joined the sodalities and took a very real part in all the Catholic activities of his parish. There was at the time a deplorable prevalence of drinking and unbecoming pastimes on Sundays amongst the young men. John was by no means a dour fellow, but he could find no time for conduct that was unchristian. He attended two Masses on Sundays. If there was not an early Mass at Weng, he would walk four miles to Griesbach, and then assist at late Mass in his parish. In the afternoon he might walk to his favourite little wooden chapel in the forest at Lugenz, where he could pray in quiet before the images of the Suffering Saviour and the Holy Mother. Sometimes he visited the shrines at Kronberg and Marianhilf, as well as the famous shrine of Our Lady at Altotting. Another noted place of pilgrimage was Aigen, and it was here that John met Father Dullinger, the pastor of Aigen. His thoughts had been turning in the direction of the priesthood, or the monastic state. He needed someone to advise him, and in Father Dullinger he happily found one who was a skilled guide of souls, and John readily recognised in him a God-sent director.

Aigen was twenty miles from Parzham. For close on ten years John made that journey every eight days, or, at least, once in the fortnight. Rising at 1 A.M., he reached the church at Aigen in time for 6A.M. Mass. Often he was at the church before 4 A.M., and waited on his knees on the doorstep until the church was opened. He made his Confession, heard Mass and received Holy Communion, and then again covered the twenty long miles home without breaking his fast. He had already joined several confraternities, and he took an active part in religious organisations. In 1842 he made his profession in the Third Order of St. Francis. In the Rule of the Third Order he found a very helpful means of sanctifying his labours on the farm and regulating his relations with his fellowmen. It was not enough; he felt that God wanted more from him, and he was not happy in the world. For some reason which we cannot determine, his application to a seminary for the priesthood, or a monastic institute, was, we are told, refused, or, at least, was not encouraged. For the time being he had to content himself with an endeavour to realise the ideals of St. Francis in the ranks of the Tertiaries. But the marriage of his elder brother and his sisters forced a decision as to his future. He was expected to take over the management of the farm. It was a tempting prospect. He would have no difficulty in making a very comfortable livelihood, and yet could find ample opportunity for his devotions! No; he had other plans. With the approval of his spiritual director, Father Dullinger, he sought admission to the Capuchin Order at Altotting, and he was accepted as a lay-brother postulant. He disposed of all his worldly belongings; part of his possessions he gave to the poor, and the other portion he assigned to the extension of the parish cemetery at Weng. Foolish man, thought many a friend and neighbour! He was thirty-one years of age; he had a good knowledge of farming and could make an excellent member of the farming community. And, then, could he not, as a practical and zealous Catholic layman, prove a tower of strength to his priest and fellow-Catholics in the parish? He parts with all those opportunities to hide himself away in the cloister for which he had no training, and, perhaps, little aptitude! John knew his own mind. He was familiar with the Gospel parableof the rich man: “Fool is he that layeth up treasures for himself and is not rich towards God” (Luke, xii.). And he chose a form of life in which he would not own the clothes he wore, would eat the bread of charity, and would take his rest upon a rude bed in a bare, unfurnished cell. What mattered it for a few years here? Better to have God’s friendship and to have treasures in heaven!

He gathered his brothers and sisters together in a room at the Venushof and spoke a parting word. That word of wise counsel and Godly guidance remained with them; a treasured memory and a helpful lesson through their lives.

THE CAPUCHIN LAY-BROTHER

Three-quarters of a century of persecution had disorganised the religious Orders in Bavaria. But a saintly Capuchin, Father Gabriel Engl, of Tyrol, who was sent to Bavaria in 1834, succeeded in restoring the glory of the Bavarian Province, which had been founded by the great St. Lawrence of Brindisi. And, this Father Gabriel, whose fame for saintliness of life, discernment of character and zeal for religious discipline, is still held in benediction, lived to see John Birndorfer a Religious of the Province. The Postulant was appointed to act as assistant to the Brother Porter of the monastery at Altotting. To a relative at that period he excuses himself for his delay in writing because “the day is arranged for work and prayer, hence, there is little time for anything else.” “My associates,” he says, “are very good, and we dwell together entirely in peace. . . . At first I found it hard to live together, with so many others, for I was shy . . . It took me a long time to remember all the names, which, as porter, I had to know, for people ask sometimes for one Father, sometimes for another.” He grew very much attached to his new home, for even before he had any thought of living there, he had made pilgrimages to the shrine of Our Lady of Altotting, and from his boyhood days he had the tenderest affection for the Blessed Mother of God.

He had renounced all family ties and earthly possessions; he found rich compensation in dwelling so close to the miraculous image of Mary. And now, he is to suffer the first big trial of his religious life; he must sacrifice even this spiritual attachment on the altar of holy obedience. He was transferred to the house at Burghausen, and his chief duty was to nurse a sick Father. “I must now leave the holy shrine of Altotting,” he writes on 25thMay, 1851, “and I cannot conceal the fact that I find it hard to leave this holy place to which so many thousands come to visit Our Blessed Mother. . . . Obedience calls me to Burghausen. . . . Pray much for me that I may be a true son of St. Francis and live and die as such.” After some months the invalid priest was removed to Altotting but his nurse was not to accompany him. Instead, John Birndorfer was sent to the lay novitiate house at Laufen, where, on the 17th September, 1851-Feast of the Sacred Stigmata of St. Francis-he received the habit of a Capuchin Novice. He will, henceforth, be known as Brother Conrad- Conrad, the name under which he will be reverenced and invoked by millions of Christians throughout the world in years to come.

Brother Conrad was made assistant to the Brother Gardener. A novice must give up his own will and his spirit of submission and unquestioning obedience is repeatedly put to the test. And Brother Conrad needed all his strength of character and habit of virtue to support him in thus yielding prompt compliance in little things as well as in matters of greater moment. Of a naturally sensitive disposition, he felt very keenly the corrections and reproofs which were administered to him frequently; often they were undeserved, but, doubtless, they were meant to ground him in humility and fortitude. He was scrupulously exact in the fulfilment of any task entrusted to him. Smiling and affable, you would never suspect that he found the life of a novice trying, if he had not himself admitted it. He did not spare himself in the world; his days were spent in hard toil and he imposed severe penances on himself. But in the world he was his own master; in religion he was expected to minister to others and to be the servant of all.

On the Feast of St. Francis, 4th October, 1852, Brother Conrad had the happiness of making profession as a son of St. Francis of Assisi. According to custom, the novice prepared for the momentous day by retreat. Perhaps we can find no better indication of the spirit in which he took the eventful step that bound him to a life of labour and sacrifice for God, than the resolutions which he penned during the days of the spiritual exercises. He headed the memo.: “Resolutions taken with great deliberation and full confidence in the assistance of Jesus andMary to help me to keep them.” These are the resolutions:

1. Presence of God: “I will strive earnestly to form the habit of always placing myself in the presence of God and of often asking myself: “Would I do this or that if my confessor or superior were observing me, and especially in the presence of God and my Angel Guardian.””

2. Bearing the Cross: “I will often ask myself when crosses and pain come to me: “Brother Conrad, why are you here?””

3. Protection of the Cloister: “I will, as much as possible, avoid going out of the monastery, unless charity to my neighbour or obedience or health require it, or for some other good reason.”

4. Fraternal Charity: “I will earnestly strive to cultivate brotherly love. . . . .I will patiently bear with the faults, defects and weaknesses of others, and, as far as I can, I will throw the mantle of charity over them whenever I am obliged to report them to one who has the power to correct them.”

5. Silence: “I will observe silence as much as possible. I will be sparing of words in conversation, and so avoid many faults and may be able to converse better with God.”

6. Frugality: “At table I will place myself in the presence of God. . . . I will deny myself dishes that I would relish particularly, and will practise mortifications that are least noticeable. Outside of meal time I will take no food unless commanded by holy obedience.”

7. Punctuality: “If not otherwise prevented, I will go to the choir immediately when the signal is given.”

8. Chastity: “As much as possible I will avoid association with persons of the other sex, unless obedience compels me.”

9. Obedience: “I will practise obedience exactly and punctually, and will endeavour to conquer my own will in all things.”

10. .Fidelity to Rule: “I will try to be faithful, even in small matters. . . . I will never depart from the holy Rule, even by a hair’s breadth.”

11. Devotion to the Mother of God: ““I will ever strive to cultivate a tender devotion to the Blessed Virgin and will endeavour to imitate her virtues.”

THE DOORKEEPER AT ALTOTTING

A short time after his profession, Brother Conrad was again transferred to Altotting, and was appointed to the office of Doorkeeper, or Porter, of the Friary. Some of the older religious shook their wise heads; the Superiors, they feared, had made a mistake, and were ill-advised to confide such an important task to one who had been only a few years in religion. The Doorkeeper at Altotting demanded a well-trained religious man. Altotting was the Mecca of pilgrims from every part of Germany, and from distant lands. The little Chapel of Our Lady is one of the most famous shrines in Europe and has been styled the “Lourdes of Bavaria.” To the Capuchins of St. Anne’s was entrusted the spiritual care of the pilgrims, and people of every age, condition in life, and of various nationalities would be callers at the Friary door. An inexperienced and tactless porter could do a world of harm. Piety without commonsense might turn sinners and timid people from religion, instead of drawing them under its influence. But Brother Conrad was a man of strong character and of mature mind, and he proved equal to the charge, and justified the judgment of his Superiors. For over forty long years he was to occupy the post, and would relinquish it only to answer the call of God to his eternal home.

The office of the Doorkeeper was not always a pleasant post. He had abandoned the world to escape the society of men and to live a life of retirement. Now, he is brought into contact with the world from early morning until late at night! It is God’s will; God wants him to do it, and nothing else counts with Brother Conrad. Others serve God by preaching or teaching, or in social service and works of charity, in splendid deeds that glorify God. The hidden, humble lodge or cell of the Porter will be Brother Conrad’s cloister, his pulpit and his mission field.

His day began when he rose for the midnight Office. After 1 A.M. he might rest until 3 A.M. Before his seventieth year he more often satisfied himself with two or three hours before midnight, and after the Office he remained on vigil, in the crypt of the church, in prayer for the deceased brethren. At 3.30 A.M. it was time to open the Church of St. Anne and prepare the vestry for the Masses. He left the monastery at 4.45 A.M., and up the little hill and across the Piazza he went to Our Lady’s Chapel, where, for over forty years, he served Mass daily at 5 A.M.

After the evening meal at 7 P.M., he retired to pray, and at 8 o‘clock in winter and 9 o‘clock in summer he locked the monastery and church doors, and then continued his prayers.

Always at the service of his Superiors and the summons of the bell, his duties demanded unwearying patience and unlimited charity. His assistant Porter, Brother Gilbert, stated, on oath, that he never saw Brother Conrad disturbed or angry when answering the calls; and no one could remember hearing an unkind or cross word from his lips. His patience was often sorely tried. On one occasion a bad-tempered tramp asked for food, and Brother Conrad brought him a bowl of hot soup. But the soup did not meet with the approval of the epicurean beggar, who flung the bowl away, breaking it into pieces, and spilling the scalding soup on poor Brother Conrad’s bare feet. Nothing ruffled, the Brother quietly remarked: “I fear you don’t like this soup; I must try if I can get something else for you.” And straightway he fetched another dish for the tramp.

The shrine of Our Lady at Altotting attracts immense concourses of pilgrims and the average number of Confessions and Holy Communions would not be short of 300,000 annually. We can easily understand that the poor Doorkeeper had little leisure from his office; his labours were exacting and continuous. To poor and rich, to great and little, to the aged and the young, the Friary Porter was the same-even-tempered and amiable-willing to render any service in his power. He gave the material food to the hungry and he spoke the word of truth and comfort, as well, to many a disturbed and distressed soul. To his wise counsel many owed a new outlook and a closer acquaintance with the values of life and the designs of a loving Providence.

If Brother Conrad was a saint, we must not imagine that he succeeded in pleasing everyone. Indeed, far from it, often he seemed to satisfy nobody. His Superior rebuked him-it may be that he did it to keep him humble and to afford him opportunities of developing the heroic mould in which his life was forming. The callers at the door were unreasonable. He had to meet all kinds of people-stupid people, as well as intelligent persons, “cracked” people and pious fools; persons who considered themselves superior; clean people and dirty people; persons hard of hearing, or difficult to understand, and talkative people; Bishops and clergy, professional men and tradesmen. Yes; the Doorkeeper of the monastery had a busy time-as many as 200 to 300 calls to the door some days! And such was Brother Conrad’s life for 41 years. It was a monotonous life, you would say; a continuous drag, a tiresome, uninteresting existence, surely! But, it was filled with acts of love of God and kindness for his fellowmen. He lived a life lit up with an intense faith that was all but vision; a life of unwavering trust in God; a life of ardent and consuming charity. He was a saint, and every day and every hour of the day, he was adding new adornments to his crown and raising himself to a degree nearer to heaven. His conduct was characterised by the persevering perfection with which he accomplished the duties of his office, and the thoroughness with which he performed even the most trivial tasks. But the fire of love, that, hidden within his heart like incense upon living coals, sent up the fragrance of his prayers and actions to heaven, was not so apparent to men; it was seen by God.

“The fingers ply: the eyes may see

Only the glancing needle which they hold; And all my life is blossoming inwardly, And every breath is like a litany,

While through each labour like a thread of gold Is woven the sweet consciousness of Thee.”

-(S. Coolidge.)

He was God’s Doorkeeper. God’s presence surrounded him at every step; everything and everyone spoke to him of God. His sweet and meek and humble demeanour, too, spoke of God to everyone. And in this he certainly had caught the spirit of his Seraphic Father, who sang, with all creatures, a canticle of praise of the Creator, because deep clown in his heart he heard the voice of creation proclaiming the goodness of the Creator and the tender solicitude of Our Father in heaven for all His children here below. “Franciscanism is synonymous with the happiness which comes of peace and grace, with the practice of Christian virtues, even amidst the difficulties derived from suffering, that inevitable heritage of the race of man. . . . It is the equivalent of the purification of the soul, and, day by day, of closer approach to God in every department of human activity; in prayer, study, charity and apostolic zeal.” [Archbishop Giovanni Cicognani, in foreword to trans. “Message of S. Francis” (Gemelli-Hughes.)]

THE CROSS WAS HIS BOOK

Brother Conrad was a saint, it is true. But he was human, and to live as a saint he had to struggle against the same external opposition and interior weaknesses and evil tendencies with which other human beings are confronted. He would have grown weary of his trying life; his patience would have given way before the many severe tests to which his office subjected him, if he had not understood the power of grace and the comfort of prayer. He seemed to accept blame as lightly as praise; he never complained or murmured when he was rebuked; he did not assert his rights when he might have considered that he was treated unfairly; he appeared to be imperturbable-was it because he had no feeling? On the contrary, he was of a highly sensitive nature and at times he felt cut to the very heart. But he knew that he could not do God’s will and suffer no hardship. To do God’s will was his one desire. To suffer for his Crucified Master, was not that his calling? “The Cross is my book,” he wrote. “One glance at it teaches me how I should conduct myself in every circumstance. From it I learn patience and humility. It not only teaches me to bear my crosses with resignation, but renders them sweet and light to me.” It was his book, and he knew how to read it. He would kneel before the Crucifix in his cell and study every wound of his loving Redeemer, think over the words that Jesus spoke from the pulpit on Calvary, and, weeping over the sufferings of his Master, he would utter cries of love for his Crucified Lover. Every day he made the Way of the Cross and his thoughts on the stages of the Via Dolorosa were the lessons that he applied to his own daily pilgrimage of life.

“The Cross is my book!” The devotion of the holy Brother to the mystery of the sufferings and death of Our Saviour is manifest in every line of his life. It was the open secret of the even level of cheerful and smiling servitude to duty through the long monotonous days of over forty years at his post at Altotting. For many years his health was very indifferent; even in the novitiate it gave cause for anxiety. In answer to enquiries from home, he confessed that he was “not at all well.” “During Advent I had twice to take to my bed for several days. But, I soon recovered. Then I had to be bled. . . . Pray that God may give me good health, if such is His Will.” And, referring to his later years, the house physician stated: “How the little, stooped Brother, constantly growing weaker, could discharge his duties with untiring kindness; with astonishing patience and with incredible perseverance! I have known him to be summoned to the door as many as 200 times in the day, yet he would invariably greet the caller with a pleasant smile. . . . Considering his great weakness, the heavy demands of his office, and his bodily affliction (for many years he suffered from asthma), I am forced to the conclusion that he was a silent hero in the cloister and a shining light among his brethren.” Writing to one whom he considered favoured by God and to whom he spoke in confidence, with a view to mutual encouragement in the love of God, and labour for God’s glory, he says: “I cannot write at length, because at night I am in no condition to write, being mostly indisposed, and during the day I have no time. My life consists chiefly in loving and suffering, in admiring and adoring the unspeakable love of God to us poor creatures. I am always most intimately united with my loving God. Even amidst my many duties, I am intimately united with Him. I speak to Him confidentially, as a child with its father. . . . The means which I employ to exercise myself in humility and meekness is no other than the Cross. . . . Sickness can teach us much, if we are only disposed to learn.” And, in a postscript to one of his letters, he writes: “My health is as usual. Though I suffer constantly, I am, nevertheless, able to perform my duties.”

Indeed, we might adopt as a literal description of the life of Brother Conrad the reference of Father Agostino Gemelli, O.F.M., to the heritage of devotion to the Passion of Christ, which passed from the Stigmatisé of La Verna to every true Franciscan. “To awake and let one’s eyes rest on the Crucifix, to let the memory sink into one’s soul, to convince oneself that a day well spent must be one in which one has nailed his own will to that of God, which is inflexible like a cross; to cast one’s eyes once more on the Crucifix in the evening, and consider whether we have learned its lesson; to fall asleep with the Crucifix resting on one’s heart, in the hope that the sleep of death will begin in the presence of that One and only Friend Who is not afraid to descend with us into the tomb. And, like St. Francis after his experience at La Verna, so, too, the Franciscan after a trial continues once more to pray, love, work and sing-the more his heart bleeds the louder does he sing.” (Il Franciscanesimo-Translat. Hughes.)

HIS DEVOTION TO THE EUCHARIST

The God of the Eucharist was the Same Who suffered and died for him; and in the Eucharist and the Holy Mass he had the living memorial of the passion and death of Jesus. No wonder that he could not conceal his burning love for the Tabernacle and the Holy Sacrifice. It was apparent to all who knew him. Under the stairs in the Friary was a small chamber-it could not be called a room. There was just sufficient space for one person to kneel. The Friars called it the “St. Alexius Cell” because there was a representation of St. Alexius-the Roman saint, who dwelt for 17 years, unrecognised, in a room under the stairs in his parents” house. To satisfy the devotion of Brother Conrad, his Superior had a small window made, which enabled the devout Doorkeeper to have a view of the Tabernacle. This was St. Conrad’s favourite retreat when he had a moment to spare. On his knees, and. with eyes fixed on the Tabernacle, he would pour out his love for His loving Lord Who dwelt in that little prison of love-and he repeated over and over again ejaculations of faith, adoration and love. To this quiet corner he would retire every morning, for preparation for Communion and for thanksgiving. There he would make a short visit to salute his Master on his way to take up duty in the morning, and at night before going off duty for his few hours” rest. Here is a prayer he made for his own use: “I have come to spend a few moments with Thee, O Jesus, and in spirit I prostrate myself in the dust before Thy holy Tabernacle to adore Thee, my Lord and my God, in deepest humility. One more day has come to its close, dear Jesus; another day which brings me nearer to the grave, and my beloved heavenly home. Once more, O Jesus, my heart longs for Thee, the true Bread of Life, which contains all sweetness and relish.” The people often remarked the intense devotion of the Brother when serving Mass in the Chapel of Our Lady, or when receiving Holy Communion. His attachment to the Holy Mass was the explanation of his reverence for priests. Whenever he opened the Friary door for a priest, he was immediately on his knees to kiss the anointed hands and ask a blessing.

THE APOSTLE OF MARY

Even in his child years he manifested an exceptional devotion to God’s Holy Mother. We have already seen that as a child Apostle of Mary, he persuaded many of his little companions to adopt his own practice of saying the beads on the way to school. When he had reached the years of early manhood, he took long journeys to visit the shrines of the Blessed Virgin at Kronberg, Marianhilf, Altotting and other places of pilgrimage. And during the forty years of his occupation as Doorkeeper at Altotting, he never seemed happier than when he could kneel before the altar in the holy chapel, or before the image of the Mother of God in the Friary Church of St. Anne. As he knelt at the altar, rapt in prayer, “glowing balls of fire seemed to proceed from his lips and rise to the miraculous image of Our Lady. This happened several times.” Such is the testimony of a Redemptorist religious, who was an eyewitness. Others stated that they noticed the same phenomenon. Arid amongst his clientele of the poor and the children at the monastery door he carried out a veritable apostleship of devotion to the Mother of God. For the Immaculate Virgin he had a truly child-like affection. Was he not her Doorkeeper? He opened the Friary door for many a pilgrim to her shrine, but to how many hearts did his warm words of love unlock the treasures of devotion to Mary?

As long as his health permitted, in his free hour off duty every day he would walk to the Chapel of Our Lady and kneel, absorbed in prayer, before her image. One favourite devotion of Brother Conrad was the little beads, or Crown of the Immaculate Conception-a distinctly Capuchin devotion. You would notice the tiny beads nearly always round his finger. Today that finger remains intact, still preserved as a relic, although the body of the saint has crumbled to dust. He also loved the Little Office of the Blessed Virgin, and her Rosary and the Litany. His zeal in seizing every opportunity of winning others-especially the children-to practices of piety towards his Immaculate Patroness, earned for him the title of “Apostle of Mary.”

DUTY WAS HIS FIRST PIETY

A man of prayer, who clearly loved to be close to the Tabernacle, where he could hold conversation with his living God, and whose tenderest affections were stirred when he knelt before the altar of Mary and gazed upon the image of the Immaculate Mother of Jesus, yet Brother Conrad did not allow his devotions to interfere with his duty. For him, duty was the first piety, because he understood what too often is sadly misunderstood: that religion is not divorced from labour, but, rather, ennobles and beautifies it and enriches it. Brother Giles-one of St. Francis” earliest companions-used to say that if a Religious were engaged in conversation with the angels and his Superior called, it would be his duty to break off the conversation and obey the call of his Superior. And so it was with Brother Conrad. Even if he were absorbed in prayer in the chapel and the door-bell rang, at once he would rise from his knees and answer the bell. The summons of the bell for him was the call of God.

FATHER OF THE POOR

The poor had a kind friend in Brother Conrad. Never did a hungry mouth beg for bread in vain. He did not know how to refuse, and his was no grudging giving; rather did it seem as if the beggar conferred a boon on him, so beaming was the smile which accompanied his gift. His brother visited him at Altotting sometimes to ask his advice about family affairs. “He received me most cordially,” the brother tells us, “but he never allowed my presence to interfere with his duties as porter, especially not in the case of the poor, to whom, he told me at Altotting, he would gladly have given everything. “Never worry about what you give to the poor,” Brother Conrad used to say, “it will all come back again.”” The Brother Cook was not always satisfied to take this counsel literally; he would hide the victuals, knowing that Brother Conrad took all he could lay his hands on for his poor, and even sought to secure for them the pick and the best of all. If he thought that there was not likely to be much left after the meal, he would carefully guard his own portion, and, after the meal, would bear it off to some poor caller at the door. They called him the “Father of the Poor.” Since his death, as many as 3000 petitions have been laid at his tomb in a week. He has shown himself as bounteous in his favours and as rich in his spiritual gifts as he was in his material alms in life; and he has proved himself particularly lavish in his gifts of comfort and fortitude to those who seek his help to sanctify their lives in humble conditions, and to bear the cross of daily life.

THE FRIEND OF THE CHILDREN

Children instinctively recognise a true follower of Christ. Christ was their Friend; He bade their elders to suffer the little ones to come to Him. And the children of Altotting all seemed to know Brother Conrad-he was their friend and they had no doubt about it. He loved them affectionately and was interested in everything that concerned them. Indeed, even when 70 years had whitened the head of Brother Conrad, the old man still retained the heart of a child. He never seemed so happy and so much at his ease as when he conversed with his little friends. Many of his little clients, who, in after years, followed a call to the priesthood or the cloister, thanked the influence of the gentle and humble manner of their dear Brother Conrad for the fascination of religion in their young lives. Kneeling at the saint’s tomb, they beg him still to be their guide and guardian angel in the work of God to which he inspired them to devote their lives.

Before bestowing a gift on the little ones-whether it was a portion of food to a poor child or a picture or some object of piety, Brother Conrad would always have a word to say to them about their prayers or their conduct, and he generally invited them to kneel with him before the image of the Blessed Mother and devoutly say a Hail Mary.

The children were always glad to have an excuse to meet the Brother, and you would often see a cluster of them around him and eagerly listening to him. They sometimes played pranks on the good Brother. People said that Brother Conrad was a saint; they would test his patience. They would call at the door and ask for some Father who was not at home; it was Brother Conrad they wanted to meet, and the trick succeeded. He knew their ways and, indeed it was not difficult to see through the little game.But he would just smilingly say: “You cannot see the Father now for he is not at home.” “But, Brother?” and they would have him in a conversation, and it would be all smiles and laughs (and really, perhaps, they quite forgot the existence of the priest whose name filled the gap for them). At other times, they would ring the bell, and then they would hide around the corner to watch and see how the Brother would look when he found he had been tricked. But he would not let them know that he had the remotest suspicion of the doings of the little criminals! He saw innocence and purity and love in the faces and the hearts of those little friends of Christ and how could he be angry?

THE CALL TO GOD”S DOOR

Forty-one years at his post of duty! One morning, it was the 18th April, 1894, with the help of a staff, he dragged himself to Our Lady’s Chapel and served the 5 o‘clock Mass as usual. About 9 o‘clock he went to Brother Deodatus” cell and asked him to take his place at the door for a while as he was not feeling well. After Vespers he sought the Superior: “Father Guardian,” he said, “I can carry on no longer.” “You had better lie down in the “Mother of God” cell” (the cell on the corridor near the door was known by this title amongst the Friars, from an image of the Mother of God that hung in it); “You have always been devoted to her, Brother,” said the Superior.

Brother Conrad was overjoyed; no favour would he have longed for more than to be allowed to rest in the cell of the Holy Mother. “He handed over to others the keys of the monastery at Altotting,” said the Procurator-General in his address to the Holy Father, “to receive from God, only three days later, the keys of paradise.” Three days later he received the Last Sacraments. In the evening, when the religious were at prayer, the Friary bell rang twice. “No one has gone to the door,” thought the dying man, and he rose to answer the bell. A young Brother happened to be passing the door of the cell and was just in time to come to his assistance as the old man collapsed. Gently he laid him on the bed and then summoned the community. The prayers for the dying were said, and as the Angelus bell ceased ringing, the soul of the saint was summoned to the eternal mansions. The golden door had opened to receive the humble DOORKEEPER of the Capuchin Friary! ““Well done, good and faithful servant-because thou wast faithful in little things . . . enter into the joy of the Lord.” (Matt. xxv., 21.)

HIS GLORIFICATION

Before the image of the Holy Mother, in the chapel where he had so often prayed, they laid the body of the dead saint. It was 21st April, 1894. The news spread quickly and the people-particularly the little children-hastened to come to venerate the remains of their cherished friend. Yes, the people had no doubt that he was a saint. They prayed to him and many were the favours they ascribed to the efficacy of his intercession with God. Miracles, it was said, were being wrought in response to prayer to him, and soon widespread devotion to the servant of God and confidence in his power, attracted pilgrims to his tomb from all over Bavaria and from distant places. The post bag was laden with letters, and from the post-stamps it was evident that the name of Brother Conrad had travelled across the ocean. As many as 3000 petitions were often received within a week to be laid on the tomb of the holy man.

The Bishop of Passau was anxious that a larger church should be built in Altotting for the accommodation of the pilgrims, and their number had considerably increased in consequence of the added attraction of the fame of the saintly Capuchin Brother. Father Joseph Anthony was entrusted with the task of carrying out the wishes of the Bishop, but he was at once confronted with the difficulty of providing the funds. One dayin his perplexity he knelt at Brother Conrad’s tomb: “If you are a saint,” he prayed, “help me. I need urgently, at this moment, 1000 marks-I need them today.” That same afternoon a ring at the Friary door, and the Superior is called to an unexpected visitor! What was his mission? Simply to tell the Father that he had placed 1000 marks in the bank to be disposed of as he required. The astonished Superior then turned again with confidence to Brother Conrad and promised that if he would help him to build the new church, he would labour for the promotion of the cause of his canonisation. The church-one of the largest in Germany-begun in 1908, was dedicated in 1912. It has since been raised to the dignity of a Basilica. Father Joseph Anthony did not fail to keep his promise.

The decree testifying to the practice of the virtues in a heroic degree was read and confirmed by his Holiness Pope Pius XI. on the Feast of the Assumption, 15th August, 1928. An excerpt from the decree will point the lesson of the life and the mission of the servant of God: “To counteract the incessant pursuit of the esteem, honour and attractions of the world by people of every condition, nothing can be more helpful than the example of persons who, though of distinguished family, despise worldly joys and the delights of family life, choose a hard and austere form of life, and, by a life of poverty and humility, show what we must do, what avoid, if the love of God is to dwell in our hearts and make us truly pleasing and acceptable to God . . . Among such men of recent times Brother Conrad of Parzham stands forth as a shining example, as a strong rebuke to the licentiousness of our soft, selfconceited age.”

In the months of February, April and June, 1930, sessions were held for the examination of the miracles submitted. Two miracles were accepted as authentic. One was the cure of a little child of four years, who, owing to a fall, suffered such distortions of the bones that she could not stand. The father of the child promised Brother Conrad that if his little girl were cured he would pay a visit to Altotting and pray at his tomb. Scarcely was the promise spoken when the child rose from the floor and walked over to the amazed father. The other was the cure of a widow who had suffered from a most painful wound in her foot, and whose case had been pronounced incurable by physicians. Through the intercession of Brother Conrad, the wound was healed and she suffered no further pain. Brother Conrad was beatified by Pope Pius XI. on 15th June, 1930. And, on Pentecost Sunday, 20th June, 1934, the Supreme Pontiff, Pope Pius X1., solemnly proclaimed Brother Conrad a saint. “In the garden of the church,” said the Holy Father in his canonisation sermon, “the white flowers of modesty, the purple flowers of martyrdom and the fruit-bearing trees of eminent men are not wanting. But by their side grow, also, tender and diffident, the violets with their sweet fragrance; to these Brother Conrad, whom we have crowned today with the crown of holiness, certainly belonged. He, if anyone, had responded to the inspirations of the Holy Ghost, and he could say of himself with perfect truth: “I am always doing what will please Him.”“ The sermon concluded with a prayer for faithfulness in little things; because purity, modesty and Christian charity are the ways and means to achieve Christian perfection. “A saint has been given to us,” said the Vicar of Christ, concluding his address, “and a new intercessor.”

On one who never coveted honours or titles, the Church of God has conferred the highest honour in her giving. An humble lay Brother of the Order of the Poor Man of Assisi is honoured today as no earthly prince or intellectual giant is honoured. The praise of Conrad of Parzham is on the lips of millions of men of every nation on earth. It is the answer of the venerable Church of Christ to the world today, as it was her answer, and the answer of Christ nineteen centuries ago: “Jesus Christ yesterday, and today, and the same forever.” (Heb. xiii., 8.) It is the triumph of the Eternal Wisdom and the Victory of the Cross.

Saint Conrad did no brilliant deeds. So simple and unobtrusive was his life that few of those who lived with him realised that they lived so close to a saint. They say he foretold things that happened years afterwards but, then, it was only years after, when the words of the humble Brother came true-it was only then that people wondered. The beauty of his life was not visible exteriorly, because it was principally in the interior spirit, in the pure intention, and in the generous disposition that accompanied his labours that their holiness consisted. His actions were very ordinary; his position afforded him little opportunity to do anything out of the ordinary. But it is in this, as it has been remarked, that Saint Conrad reminds the world of a truth which it does not sufficiently grasp-the dignity of human nature; the truth that human nature is great in itself and by itself. Created by the Eternal Maker of all things, purchased by the infinite love of the Divine Redeemer, human nature does not find its greatness in the things which it employs, but in the wisdom with which it employs them and in the purpose to which it directs them and the love with which it enriches them. The saints had the wisdom of God and guided their lives by its dictates. The wisdom of the world is foolishness before God and that Divine Wisdom which was Christ’s, He gives to His little ones. “I confess to Thee, O God, Father Almighty, because Thou hast hidden these things from the wise and prudent, and hast revealed them to little ones.” And, so, tender youth and fragile maidens, beggars and unlettered men, as well as men of learning and wealth, are chosen for the honours of God’s Kingdom, whilst the great ones of this world are forgotten. We cannot conclude this short sketch of Saint Conrad more fittingly than in the words of his Holiness Pope Pius XI.-the representative on earth of Christ the God-Man and the Redeemer of the world: “Brother Conrad really left things worthwhile-a fairly rich paternal estate, extensive possessions, an enviable, and, perhaps, actually much-envied position, in his native place. He left all to retire into the seclusion of the cloister, into the humble family of the Capuchins, entering therein as a simple lay-Brother, to become the monastery porter. . . . The venerable Brother was ever punctual, uniformly self-possessed and faithful to his duty-a shining example of prudence and patience, of eminent love of neighbour and willingness to serve others. All this, when faithfully observed throughout life, is in itself sufficient to make a saint and a hero.” God’s Doorkeeper, by his example of life, points to us the way of faithful service of God in our sphere of life; the way that, at the end of our pilgrimage, will open for us the golden gates of the home of Our Father Who is in heaven.

Nihil obstat:

J. DONOVAN, Censor Deputatus.

Imprimatur:

@ D. MANNIX,

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis,

********

Gossiping

BY DANIEL A. LORD, S.J

INDEX

WHAT GOSSIPS, MALE AND FEMALE, DO TO THE WORLD

DICK voiced the feelings of the entire group graphically, if slangily:

“Oh, boy! I never saw the good old moon strut her stuff better.”

“That,” commented Sue, his twin, with sisterly irony, “is what I call poetry.”

The father and the mother of the Bradley twins found their comfortable porch chairs and sank into them contentedly before they deigned a second glance at the moon. The dinner had been exceptional, a sort of celebration to honour the first day of father’s precious two weeks of vacation, and, with middle-aged instinct for ease, they found that even a moon was more beautiful when viewed from a deep wicker chair.

But Father Hall, with that unageing youth of his, stood between the beloved twins, hands clasped behind his back. It was one of his rare dinners out, a concession to his long friendship with the Bradleys, who spent summer after summer in his parish at Lakeside.

From the edge of the veranda he looked at the shimmering highway of light that stretched across the lake towards the black line of hills on the horizon, where the moon was suspended like a steel war-shield which some giant had polished and hung up against the dark velvet of the sky.

“Yes,” agreed the father of the twins. “It’s beautiful.”

And he promptly spoiled it all by striking a match, the yellow flame of which competed exasperatingly with the calm, cool light of the moon.

THE TRIBUTE OF SILENCE

“It’s too beautiful to talk about,” sighed Sue.

“Most beautiful things are like that,” agreed Father Hall. “Like what?” asked his host, the end of his cigar glowing like a tiny, miniature rival moon.

Father Hall looked back over his shoulder.

“Oh, I”m just re-airing an old theory,” he apologized. “Things that are deeply beautiful inevitably hold us silent. We realize the inadequacy of words to describe them; so we pay them the sensible tribute of saying nothing.” “You mean just beautiful scenery ?” Dick asked.

“I mean beautiful anything-mountains or moons or oceans or great, unselfish loves or tremendous sacrifices or devoted friendships or paintings or buildings or music-anything really beautiful or great.”

Father Hall walked back to the comfortable chair which by unspoken consent had been left for him. Sue sat down on the top step, her head resting back against a pillar, while the moon ran long silver fingers through her bright hair. Dick fumbled for a cigarette and sat down opposite his twin. All were caught in the silent loveliness of the night unconsciously verifying Father Hall’s pet theory.

THE FAMILY DEBATE

But it was their host who rudely broke the spell.

“Evidently that bridge gang of yours,” he said emphatically to his wife, “didn’t have anything beautiful this afternoon to keep them silent,”

“They had your wife,” she answered sweetly.

“They must be used to her,” he went on. “At any rate, even the beauty of my wifewasn’t making them live up to Father

Hall’s theory.”

He turned towards the priest.

“1 came up the walk from my car this afternoon and found two tables of “em here on the veranda. Two tables, eight women, count “em. And if the Stock Exchange during the panic makes more noise, you may feed me a day’s supply of ticker tape. My stars, what chatter!”

“I suppose, my dear,” his wife retorted with suspicious mildness, “that when eight men get together they sit and pretend they are deaf and dumb?”

“Do they need to pretend they are dumb?” was Sue’s helpful contribution.

“Look out, young lady,” shot back her father. “People have said you resemble your dad.” Then, towards his wife, “Of course men talk. They talk a lot. But they talk sense, and one at a time, not in chorus. Conversation with them is interchange, not interruption, and much less interference.”

“Hop to it, dad,” cheered his son.

“Don’t mind them, Father,” Sue cried to Father Hall. “My mother and father really love each other, but when they start debating men versus women, it’s something to write the sporting editors about.”

But Mr. Bradley was not to be turned aside.

“And if it weren’t for their friends, what would women talk about? Now, men talk sport and business and shows and- and-”

“Man, the perfect.” jeered his wife.

GOSSIPS BOTH

“Well,” said Father Hall, deliberately egging them on, you must admit that women do seem to get a world of entertainment out of pulling an absent sister’s reputation limb from limb.”

“A man leaps to the defence of a man,” commented his hostess sadly.

“You bet he does,” her husband retorted proudly. “We men stick together.”

But Father Hall was not finished.

“Women get almost as much fun out of it as-as men do raking over a choice scrapheap of gossip.”

“Traitor!” shouted his host, while his family roared at the hit.

“Well,” said Mrs. Bradley, in a gesture of public confession, “I must admit we women are far from perfect. Bob here was pretty much right about this afternoon. We played some bridge, but there were two of the ladies who-well, when they come, an afternoon is a few hands of bridge completely surrounded by gossip. And what they can do to a reputation would fill a tabloid. Why, oh, why, are so many good women such awful cats?”

“From the tongues of good women, O Lord, deliver us,” prayed Father Hall earnestly.

“Since we’re being honest,” her husband supplemented, “I”11 admit that men aren’t much better. We love our scandal, too, and a crowd of men will claw the reputation of everyone they know, from the president of the corporation to the girl at the switchboard. And when they haven’t got facts to tell, they use their imagination.”

TABLOID STUFF

“Commonest fault in the world,” agreed Father Hall.

“But why?” demanded Dick.

“Even at school,” Sue contributed, “nice girls, girls who really are awfully decent about other things, won’t hesitate to say the most terrible things about other girls, things that leave the girls” reputations in rags.”

“When you mentioned the tabloids a minute ago,” Father Hall said, “I couldn’t help but see a connection. Why do the mass of the people eat them up? If one of their editors suddenly decided that after a certain issue he’d print only pleasant things about people, the heroic acts they’d performed, the happy marriages they’d made, the temptations they’d successfully resisted, he’d be sure that within a month he could file for bankruptcy.”

“So he goes on printing the scandals, fills the first page with murders, and the diary of the fair adulteress, and the story of the supposedly respectable banker’s secret sins, and the fact that an ungrateful daughter kicked her father out of his home-and counts on running circulation up to a million.”

“It’s the same instinct, apparently, that makes the average man or woman get a bigger thrill out of hearing scandal about an absolute stranger than good about a dear friend.”

“And that’s the same instinct that makes one hundred thousand people go mad when one pugilist socks another in the jaw and lays him cold,” said Dick.

His cigarette end made a parabola of light as he shot it out on to the lawn.

“It seems to be a sort of blood lust,” he went on. “Tell a crowd of fellows that some chap saved a blind beggar from an onrushing express train, and they yawn and say, “Yeh? And then what?” But just hint off-hand, “So-and-So got into a heck of a mess last night,” and you have a hypnotized audience before you start your next sentence.”

MEAN TONGUES, MEAN MINDS

“It’s a mean sort of spirit, isn’t it?” Sue put in. “I always feel low and contemptible after I”ve helped pull some girl to pieces.”

“And you have every reason to feel that way,” Father Hall agreed frankly. “Gossip is a sop to one of the meanest of human instincts, the instinct to pull down anyone who rises ever so slightly above us. A tramp sees a brilliantly lighted window in the home of a successful lawyer, so he heaves a brick through it. A painter whose pictures have been rejected by the hanging committee slits with a knife the canvas of a successful artist. The actor whose bad work loses him a role sits in the audience and hisses the successful actor who fills his place. And the average man and woman take refuge from their own failures and shortcomings by tearing to pieces anyone who has surpassed them.”

Mr. Bradley knitted his brows.

“Not quite clear,” he admitted. “Just what do you mean?”

Father Hall explained.

“Every one of us is just selfish enough to hate to see anyone rise above him. We all like to feel we are the best, that no one beats us in anything. Besides, we want to be the centre of attraction and the receiving end for whatever bouquets are being handed round. That is a perfectly natural longing and the basis of much fine ambition.”

“But it is also the basis of very much uncharitable talk, scandal, and gossip. We see someone brilliantly outshining us. Our immediate instinct is to dim the lustre of his achievements. And gossip will do just that. A singer finds her rival unmistakably winning the public favour; critics know at first hearing which has the better voice, so the singer tells about the time her rival broke down completely and was laughed off the stage. A business man sees his neighbour pass him on the road to success, so he tells about the secret scandal which shows that, though that neighbour is a success, at heart he is a rogue and deeply unhappy.”

“Two women hear another consistently called an angel, though no one thinks of calling them that. How they gloat over the shocking story in which she trails her wings in the dust and spatters mud on her angelic robe!”

“Whenever anyone rises above the level of the mob, the mob reaches up to pull him down. If the mob cannot reach him, it can at least smirch his success and find unsavoury satisfaction in his unhappiness or his sins. Someone has the great gift of winning friendship, while another chap is left alone; the latter finds strange consolation in planting the seeds of distrust in the breasts of the other man’s friends.”

“Whenever a man stands on a pedestal surrounded by admirers, the vandals and the failures shoulder their way through the crowd to point insistently at his clay feet.”

ENVY, MOTHER OF GOSSIP

Mr. Bradley nodded understandingly.

“That’s the reason,” he said, “that the higher the rank of the person, the choicer the piece of scandal and the more the people feast upon it. Jack, the ditch-digger, gets drunk, and nobody cares a snap. Jackson, the senator, takes a little too much, and gossip is on him like a pack of hounds. Equivalently, everyone is saying, “Look! He seemed so great and successful. But really, with all his prominence, he does things thatI wouldn’t do. I”m better than he is, after all.”

“It looks rather like a sop to envy,” Mrs. Bradley agreed. “Then that’s why,” commented Sue, “pretty girls are the one the other girls talk worst about.”

“And really prominent men at college,” Dick chimed in.

“And married couples who seem to have made a success of their marriage,” added their mother.

“It’s the herd instinct to drag down the leader,” Father Hall went on. “We get to dislike him just because he is so continuously successful. The ancient Athenians had nothing against one of their greatest benefactors except the fact that everyone kept calling him “the Just”, so they promptly proved he wasn’t so great by driving him out of the republic.”

“We all have that sad instinct. Some man is great, and with deep delight we suddenly discover his weaknesses or defects and rush about telling them. It’s as much as to say, “You see? He’s just as human and just as weak as we are.” Some woman is wonderfully beautiful. Her dimmer rivals exult if they can say, “Yes, beautiful; but she’s not as virtuous as I am.” Some chap is making more money than I am, but I”11 whisper that I know of his secret unhappiness. Some man is making a national name; but if you’ll listen, I”11 tell you about the scandal that marred his youth.”

“You see, it is often difficult to reach the leaders with real physical attack. It is always possible to reach them with scandalous gossip. I cannot strike that successful lawyer next door without the police taking a hand. But I can blight his character. Pulling the hair of that beauty in our block, after whom the boys are running, is not being done by ladies. Tearing her reputation to pieces and hinting darkly at why she is so popular with the boys is done by a million ladies, young and old.”

SEEKING THE SPOTLIGHT

“So gossip whirls around the heads of the successful, the beautiful, the popular, the prominent, just because the mob dislikes them and resents their success. And what is true of the nationally great is equally true of the leaders in any group of society.”

“Early in life,” the priest went on, “I found out that I was quickest and most anxious to gossip about people who competed with me and beat me. I was magnanimous to those I could beat. I was deeply critical of those who beat me. I was tolerant and kindly towards people who were plainly beneath me. I was merciless towards those who dared pass me in any sort of race. In other words, my gossip was invariably an admission of inferiority on my part. Envy was its legitimate mother.”

“Perhaps I”m saying much the same thing,” Mrs. Bradley ventured, “but I”ve noticed that women often enough gossip just because gossip gets them the spotlight. When books or plays or current events are being discussed, the conversation is general, and one needs brains to take a leading part in it. But when a piece of gossip is being retailed, the spotlight goes straight to the speaker, and she is the centre of a hushed and attentive audience. Gossip, so to speak, tells itself. It needs neither brains nor cleverness to make it interesting.”

BRILLIANT PEOPLE DON’T

“I”ve watched a woman who has been a little out of the general conversation grow restless,” she went on. “No one has been paying any attention to her. She has no ideas to contribute to the talk about intellectual subjects. But there is a moment’s lull, and then, with a jump, she has gained the focal point of attention with “Did you hear about Mrs. So-andSo’s affair with her young doctor?” Others have been too much noticed; she has been neglected; but just as the conversation is getting completely out of her reach, she pulls the whole company her way with a choice bit of scandal. Gossip gets her the spotlight.”

Father Hall nodded.

“Quite right,” he agreed. “For just that reason really brilliant people do not need to gossip. They have subjects to talk of that are worth listening to. They have fresh ideas to contribute to any conversation. They are given attention no matter what they have to say. They are leaders, with no one to pull down, and hence they can afford to be generous.”

“A really great man is usually generous in his attitudes towards lesser men. An exceptional beauty does not need to build up her reputation by deriding the charms of mediocre women. A saint has no necessity for calling into question the goodness of ordinary men. The brilliant, fluent conversationalist or the really well-informed man or woman does not have to pull attention to himself or herself by resorting to scandal or gossip. They command the spotlight; they do not steal it. Gossip, whatever way you look at it, is an admission of inferiority.”

Out on the lake the putput of an outboard motor broke the evening’s calm silence. But the group on the porch, though they watched the black shadow cut across the silver highway of the moon, were not disposed to drop the subject they had been discussing.

SERIOUSLY SINFUL

“What astonishes me,” Father Hall resumed, “is the perfectly calm, blissful way in which people go along sinning terribly by uncharity and gossip with never a thought ofthe seriousness of what they do.”

“Oh” Mrs. Bradley said apologetically, “it’s just thoughtlessness.”

“That isn’t much of an excuse when terrible harm is done.”

“Rather not,” Mrs. Bradley agreed. “If an engineer thoughtlessly runs an express train into an open switch when the signals are all set against him—”

“Or a chap absentmindedly throws a lighted cigarette into a tank of gasoline—”

“Please! Please!” protested Mrs. Bradley, waving her hands.

“A truck driver the other day ran down a little boy,” Sue went on, disregarding the protests. “When he told the bystanders that he wasn’t watching the street, they almost mobbed him.”

“The only thing we can say for thoughtlessness,” Father Hall summarized, “is that it saves many people from being actually guilty of what in itself is serious sin.”

“That sounds bad,” said Mr. Bradley. “Are gossip and uncharity frequently serious sin?”

“Any person who knowingly reveals the secret serious sin of another to persons who have no right to know is guilty of mortal sin.”

“That’s not altogether clear,” Dick said.

“We can clear it up with two or three cases,” the priest exclaimed. “A group of women sit down to a bridge table—”

“Oh,” cried Mrs. Bradley, “why pick on the poor women?”

“We’re just beating them to it,” her husband retorted.

“One of the players,” Father Hall continued, “the night before was looking out of her bedroom window when the daughter of her nearest neighbour was carried into the house drunk to the point of complete unconsciousness. I suppose I might have said “intoxicated,” but “drunk” is precisely what I mean. Now, no one knows of the girl’s serious lapse except this one midnight watcher. But as soon as the bridge players are seated, the woman pushes away the cards, and, with all the unction of her littlegossipy soul, she begins: “Last night I saw that young daughter of Mrs. Nextdoor carried into her house dead drunk. As she says those words she commits a mortal sin. She has told the unknown serious sin of another to a group of people who have no right toknow it.”

“A group of men sit down to lunch—”

“Well, thank goodness,” Mrs. Bradley interrupted, “the men are getting theirs, too.”

SECRET SINS

“The conversation turns to a well-known business man of their acquaintance. One of the men has recently stumbled upon a scandalous affair in the private life of this acquaintance, an affair which thus far has been hushed up. But the discoverer entertains the group at lunch with a circumstantial recital of the scandal. He has committed a mortal sin.”

Dick looked up in protest.

“Do you mean to say, Father, that we can never talk about anyone’s serious sins without sinning seriously ourselves?” Father Hall smiled.

“You missed something. You didn’t notice that I insisted on secret sins and sins that the person to whom they are told has no right to know. You may, for example, discuss as much as your common sense and good taste allow the crimes that figure in the headlines. The senator who is caught stealing or taking bribes is as much a legitimate subject for conversation as the latest hammer slayer. The notorious village atheist or the comic village drunkard can hardly regard their sins as secret; nor need we.”

“Or, suppose we all see the young lady we were talking about carried in dead drunk. To us the occurrence is no t a secret, and we may, among ourselves, talk about it, though it is certainly kinder and better not to do so. And if the young lady is known throughout the neighbourhood to make a practice of such homecoming, though we alone saw that particular offence,it would not be a serious sin to tell about it.”

“Public sins, notorious sins, sins that everyone in a community knows have been committed, may be talked of without sin.”

THE RIGHT PERSON

“And remember, too, that I said, “told to a person who has no right to know.” Let’s suppose that I alone know that a certain banker is a thief. I did not, of course, learn this as a professional secret. My partner tells me he is going to turn over his money to this banker; I have a perfect right to warn him by disclosingwhat I know of the man’s crookedness.”

“Instead of telling her bridge partners, the midnight watcher feels that the mother of the girl should know of her daughter’s delinquency. Though she may not be very welcome, she certainly has done no wrong in telling a mother what she has a perfect right to know about her daughter’s conduct.”

“A sweet girl is trustingly marrying a chap whom you, Dick, know to be morally, though secretly, rotten. You would do a fine thing if you let the girl know what later on, when she found it out for herself, would wreck her life. You would do, probably, thewiser thing if you told her father or mother.”

“In the same way, though we all hate tale -bearers, there are times, at school, for instance, when we have the positive obligation of telling secret sins of others. We stumble on serious breaches of moral conduct among the students that are doing the school real harm. We must tell the proper authorities. That is not tale-bearing. Still less is it gossip. It is simply saving the school and other students from grave harm.”

Mrs. Bradley laughed quietly.

“Forgive me,” she said, “but I was just thinking how few gossips would get any fun out of reporting that sort of thing to the proper authorities. There’s no snap or thrill in telling people who ought to know. That’s not sport. That is helping someone, preventing further evil, and has nothing whatsoever to do with the viewpoint of your thoroughgoing gossip. It’s the savage instinct to kill, not the desire to help, that drives the scandalmonger on.”

Dick’s logical mind had been turning all this over.

“You’ve been talking only about serious sins,” he said. “It seems to me that a chap can sometimes tell things which aren’t serious, but which do more harm to a reputation than if he repeated a major crime.”

“Quite correct,” said Father Hall. “If the person concerned in the story is one whose reputation could be blasted by telling things about him that are not seriously sinful, that might easily be a mortal sin. Tippling isn’t a mortal sin. Yet if, for example, one told that a priest was a secret tippler, though never really drunk, it might blast his reputation, and be mortal sin for the one who told it. If one told that a banker was gambling (and didn’t add that it was with trifling sums of his own money), the case might be the same. It would all depend on how his efficiency was impaired and his reputation injured. So, too, even a breath of scandal about the name of a woman might ruin her reputation, result in her coming marriage being prevented, and end by spoiling her life. Circumstances, here as elsewhere, alter cases.”

PLAIN MURDER

Mr. Bradley lighted a fresh cigar; in his interest he had pitched a half-finished one out into the darkness. “Philosophically speaking—” he began.

“Why, dad!” teased his daughter.

“—what is it that makes gossip so serious a sin?”

“Fundamentally, it is a form of murder. Cold and deliberately a knife is driven into a reputation. Ruthlessly a character is slain. A fair name is ruined in the eyes of others. And in the eyes of mankind, as in the eyes of God, everyone has the same right to his reputation and fair name that he has to his life. Gossip is a sort of spiritual murder.” “At every word a reputation dies,” quoted Mrs. Bradley.

“That’s a horrible way of looking at it,” Sue said.

“But Father Hall is right,” her father answered.

Dick broke the momentary silence.

“I don’t want to seem to be defending gossip,” he said, “but I can’t see where you’ve made any allowance for the fact that a person may be telling the strict truth. I can understand how, if a fellow lies about a chap, it’s pretty serious. But, after all, truth is truth—”

“But there are truths which may not be told,” Father Hall interrupted, “all sorts of them. The priest hears them in confession; the business man in secret conferences; the doctor and lawyer hear them in their office conferences. And I may not use even truth to slay the most precious natural thing a man possesses next to life itself, his reputation.”

“Of course, if what one tells is a lie, we call that calumny, and it is an even more serious sin. For, bad as it is to tell secret sins that really have been committed, it is unspeakable to tell as true sins of which the person is innocent. But whether the story of the sin be true or false, it slays a character, and that is serious always.”

A LOST GIRL

They were silent once more, and it was Sue who picked up the threads they had momentarily dropped. “As you’ve been talking,” she said, “I”ve been thinking of the harm I”ve seen gossip do. A new girl came to school in my junior year. She was a sweet girl, and everyone liked her from the start. I never saw a girl who attracted me more. Though from the very start she made friends easily and gracefully, we all noticed a certain shyness about her. She seemed at times almost afraid of us. Both faculty and girls noticed a hurt look that would sometimes come into her eyes, just as if she distrusted the whole world. But it wasn’t two months before she had almost completely lost her shyness and reserve, and one hardly ever noticed the hurt look. We accepted her gladly and made her our friend.”

“Just abo ut Thanksgiving time a visitor came, one of those terribly talkative girls from a small town. I saw her as she met our new classmate in the hall, and saw, too, the look of fear come into the girl’s eyes once more.”

“I didn’t see the visitor again, but by nightfall there were little groups with heads together everywhere in the school. She had rushed right off from meeting the girl, assembled her friends in the school, and told them, with circumstantial detail, a piece of gossip about our new friend. Oh, it was just some yarn about a scrape, followed by dismissal from her old school. By the time it reached me, one would have thought our poor girl had lost her friends and had been forced to leave her home because of it. And to this day I don’t believe a third of it was true.”

SAD, BUT FREQUENT

“Well, overnight the frank welcome of the girls turned to distrust. The newcomer was looking for a change and saw it at once. She couldn’t very well miss the growing suspicion in the girls” attitude, and the way they turned to look after her as she passed. I tried to get her to talk to me, to let her see that I didn’t believe the story. But within a week she had gone; and when she left I saw in her eyes the same hurt, frightened look, only intensified and deepened. One gossip retailing a single unfortunate scrape, and this girl’s chance of remaking herself was completely ruined.”

“Sad, but quite, quite frequent.”

“Indeed it is,” Mrs. Bradley agreed. “I remember so well the young couple who came to live near us shortly af ter we were married. I never had seen a happier pair. She had an instinct for home-making, and he was evidently making his way in the business world. Then, one afternoon, just after lunch, she came to see me, almost staggering into my arms. She wasn’t crying, but her whole body was trembling as if she were chilled to the bone.”

“I made her sit down, and with my arms still about her, I listened to the story. Poor child! She had to talk to someone. A gossip had come in to see her, and, with a fine pretence of friendship, had told her, almost before she knew what she was listening to, of a sordid love affair that had almost ruined her husband’s bachelor days. I tried to point out that he had pulled himself from the mess, made himself a new life, found her love, and that he was surely making her happy. The poor girl went away holding her chin bravely in the air, but I knew things could never be the same. They weren’t. I sat helpless while I watched their beautiful married life going to pieces on the rocks that gossip had cruelly thrown before them.”

“Oh, we all know cases like that,” Mr. Bradley said. “Some chap, in a youthful impulse to make a little easy money, borrows from his employer’s cash register with every intention of repaying it. He is caught, though, before he can repay, his story becomes the common property of his community, and, as soon as he can, he pays back and leaves that part of the country. (You remember how Sidney Porter, our O. Henry, ran away from the blight of a scandal like that.) This chap makes up his mind from that moment to live with scrupulous honesty. He does so, makes a name for himself in a new part of the country, and is on the threshold of success. Then the gossip comes, the story of his youthful slip is repeated, his reputation is blasted overnight, and the future which he has been patiently building up is snatched from his hands.”

A BLIGHTED CAREER

Though Father Hall was silent, through his mind were parading the hundreds of similar instances he had met- women with characters smirched, homes falling to ruin, men refused positions or advancement, love cooling, hatred developing, all because of some gossip’s wagging tongue.

But Mr. Bradley was continuing.

“Maybe you’ve never heard me tell this incident, though it has hurt me as much as anything I”ve ever come in contact with. About ten years ago I met and became interested in a young business man. He was clever, upright, and a comer. I felt a sort of personal responsibility for him, and suggested his joining our downtown luncheon club. He was delighted. So I got him in. In return for this he used to take me into his confidence about his prospects and about the girl he was going to marry as soon as he got his next rise.”

“It happened that our club was having a lot of trouble in securing competent cloak-room girls. So, as the members only came in for an hour or so at lunch time, we fired the girls, installed a locker-room, and gave every man his own locker and key.”

“Then in rapid succession five or six members reported losses from their lockers. Money disappeared, gloves, a brief- case, even an overcoat and a set of golf clubs. Of course we had to put a stop to that. So we hired a detective and set our trap. Two or three lockers were left open, the detective was hidden in another. Complete secrecy was imposed upon the club’s officers.”

“My young friend was out of town and had not heard of the thefts. So, on his return, he strolled into the locker room, hung up his things, and, as he turned from his own locker, noticed that in the open locker beside his was a most unusuallooking briefcase.”

“He had been planning to buy a new case, and this one attracted him as precisely the sort he’d want to get. So he leaned over, picked it up out of the open locker (a foolish but perfectly natural thing to do), and as he stood with the bag in his hand out popped the detective, like one in the last act of a mystery play, and said, “Come with me.”

“The house committee came dashing in at once, and when they found my young friend looking terribly sheepish and startled, with the detective’s heavy hand on his shoulder, they laughed, listened to his perfectly simple explanation, and asked him to forget the unpleasant episode.

GOSSIP NEVER DIES

“That should have ended the matter, but it didn’t. One of the house committee told the story as a good joke. The club gossips got hold of it (with a bow to Mrs. Bradley, I must admit there are plenty of them), and rolled it over on their tongues. In no time at all the story was taking its swift and crescendo course. “Is it true that Dave So-and-So was caught taking things out of lockers?” “You’ve heard, of course, that Dave So-andSo was caught robbing lockers.” “They hushed it up pretty carefully, but everybody knows that Dave So-andSo is the locker thief.”

“The gossip was carried home to the wives of the members. The wives passed it around the bridge tables.”

All the original details were now transmuted, and the story, with more or less ornamentation, was simply that Dave was a thief. The only one who didn’t seem to hear it was Dave himself, blissfully going on his honest, straightforward way.”

“Finally, the club officials realized that they had to take some action to stop the spreading gos sip. A letter was sent to every club member explaining how the story started, and asking for silence or truth. That was only fuel to the flames. “Ah- ha!” said the gossips, with their usual incredible logic. “If they have gone to the trouble of denying it, there must be something to the story.”

“Of course, a thoughtful friend brought the news to his sweetheart, and, luckily for him, if she was that sort of girl, she broke their engagement. His employers heard of it. He gave them the explanation, but with an appalling, paralysing sense of helplessness. At first they stuck nobly by him, but finally they called him in and told him that, though, of course, they didn’t believe the yarn, the forest fire of gossip that had spread around him was so intense that it was simply ruining his efficiency. They offered him a post in another town; but, with proper pride, he turned it down.”

“Then he came brokenheartedly to me. What could he do? How could he fight it?”

“Well, what is there to do when treacherous gossips are stabbing in the dark? I advised him to leave, even though leaving seemed to put the seal of truth on the accusation. He did so. Innocent though he was, he left position, friends, home, everything, and went to start life anew in a distant city. Thank God, the fire of gossip did not leap the intervening distance to scorch him.”

“I never heard that before,” said Dick. “You never told it when I was around.”

“Perhaps it hurt me too badly,” his father replied.

“The terrible part of it is,” Mrs. Bradley said, “that once a story is started nothing seems to be able to stop it. All the denials in the world have no effect. Explanations seem lame and foolish. For twenty people who listen eagerly to the gossip, not one listens to the truth about the story. A hundred gaily repeat the scandalous story, while not one takes the trouble to repeat the facts that knock the scandal on the head. There’s simply no other way of stopping it. It keeps sweeping on and on and on, just as long as there are people to tell it and people to listen.”

A SLANDERED PRIEST

“A priest meets so many of the victims of gossip,” Father Hall said. “I remember a story that was prevented from becoming tragic only by the most startling courage of a priest friend of mine in a small town. Deliberately a group of bigots set out to ruin his reputation. In dark corners, secretly, without the possibility of his finding out where the stories originated, they whispered their scandalous lies about him. Almost before he knew what was going on, the flames burst out on all sides.”

“The poor man had spent his life for his people. Sud denly he was an outcast. A few loyal friends stuck to him, but the town as a whole drew back, shuddering piously as he walked down the street. At that point the story becomes one of astounding courage, for he determined to fight it out. He got the names of his accusers, met them one by one, dared them to their faces, beat scandal with truth, threw open his whole life for anyone to read, and carried the fight into the camp of his enemies. Ultimately he won; but with victory in his grasp, he staggered away from his people and his town a broken, crushed man, ready to die. Even in his triumphant vindication, gossip had killed him physically.”

“Do you all remember Ring Lardner’s wonderful story, “Haircut?” asked Sue.

They all did.

“That did me a lot of good,” she continued. “Whenever I find myself listening to gossip or whenever I feel tempted to repeat it, I think of that unspeakable travelling salesman taking down the names of shopkeepers as his train sped through little towns, and then writing them anonymous letters suggesting that their wives were not faithful. A great joke to him, and sheer tragedy to his victims. That wouldn’t make a bad definition of gossip: A joke for the listeners; tragedy for the victim.”

“We read a Spanish play in school last year,” Dick put in. “Queer name, but I”11 never forget the plot. Right along the line of what we’re talking about. A young fellow and a lovely young married woman were just good friends. Nothing whatever of evil between them. Then gossip started to whirl about them. It grew and grew, though they knew nothing about it. Finally, it burst above their innocent heads. They found themselves pointed out as lovers. At first they were startled and terrified and indignant. They were guiltless; they had never thought of love as possible. And then, the playwright goes on, the gossip threw them into each other’s arms. Gossip made them think of the sin of which they were not guilty. The craving for mutual protection against the world that had slandered them made them become what that gossip had called them.”

“Oh,” Father Hall cried almost impatiently, “we could go on indefinitely. Gossip causes terrible, innumerable tragedies. “Your niece doesn’t like you, does she? You know, she said to me the other day . . . “ and relatives are at daggers” points. “Is your husband’s stenographer a blonde? I thought it was he that I saw with a sweet-looking little blonde at luncheon the other day,” and suspicion is sown between a hitherto happy couple.”

“The terrible little whispering campaigns of gossip! The setting of friends against friends! The suggestion of suspicions that never, never die! The tragedies that begin with “Now, if you weren’t my friend, I wouldn’t tell you, but he said about you . . .” and “She seems such a lovely girl, but I heard that she . . .” or “He’s a nice young fellow now, but when he was a young man. .”

STABBED IN THE BACK

“And it’s so utterly cowardly! There’s no real chance to defend oneself. One can’t strike back. It’s like fighting ghosts and shadows, and snipers who shoot from safe hiding places. The assassin who stabs in the back takes some slight physical risk. The gossip takes none. His victim is absent, unable to defend himself, helpless against the poison that drops from venomed tongues.”

“He may never know what really happened, why some dear friend suddenly turned against him, why he read unaccountable suspicion in the eyes of acquaintances. And all the while his betrayer works in darkness, at a safe distance, without the possibility of his victim’s striking back. It’s a coward’s game no matter who plays it.”

Mrs. Bradley shook her head protestingly.

“Why do you keep saying “he” and “him”? Women suffer more from gossip than men, and perhaps (now I”m making a confession to Mr. Bradley) women are the worse gossips. You’d think that women would stick together defensively, wouldn’t you? But they don’t. How they love to pull another woman down! How they drag her secret sins into the light! There’s nothing so cruel as a woman to a woman! Cats? Isn’t “tigers” a better name?”

“I”m afraid,” Dick said quietly, “that boys are pretty cruel to women, too. Perhaps you don’t know how boys love to brag about their conquests. Why, when they get together, it’s how many girls they’ve kissed, and how many scalps they’ve dangled at their belts, and how they tricked the girls, and how easily the girls fell for it. Kissing and telling is just plain rotten gossip, but I”m afraid, with a lot of fellows, it’s much like a sportsman with his trophies. But it’s tough on the girls.”

“Yes, it is cruel,” Father Hall agreed. “For the sake of a boast or a laugh thousands will blast another’s character. The boy who boasts of his conquest of some poor, silly girlwho foolishly trusted him is betraying her twice. He’s a cold, cruel, unspeakable cad.”

“But the man or woman who uses gossip simply to win a laugh is almost equally cruel. You and I have met people with rapier-like tongues. They flash a brilliant story and run it through a quivering reputation. They drive a caustic comment up to its hilt into a soul. They strike sparks of wit, and with them kindle flames that burn down happy, peaceful homes. Like the most brutal of the old pirates, they cut a throat amid roars of laughter. They slay with a ribald jest on their lips.”

“And usually,” said Sue, “there is so little foundation to gossip.”

“It starts as a rumour,” Mrs. Bradley agreed, “and ends as a fact. It starts with a “perhaps,” and finishes with an “absolutely.” In three repetitions it has ceased to be vague suspicion and has become authenticated history.”

WHO ARE WE TO JUDGE?

“And if you track it down,” Mr. Bradley added, “it’s generally a story that somebody heard from somebody who got it from somebody else. You remember the old song, “A friend of mine told a friend of mine that a friend of his told him.”

“Or,” suggested Dick, “it’s like shaking the hand that shook the hand that shook the hand of John L. Sullivan.”

“Most gossip,” Father Hall agreed, “is like ghost stories, or the legends of sea serpents. It’s third-hand or fourth-hand stuff, seldom anything that anyone in the companyhas actually seen.”

“Sounds almost funny put that way,” said Dick.

Father Hall’s voice was almost grim.

“That doesn’t keep the results from being terrible. Doubts and distrusts are scattered, never, never to be forgotten. Enmities, dislikes, suspicions grow up between dear friends. Lives are blighted, careers nipped in the bud. No one but God news the terrible fruitage of the uncharity, gossip and slander sown so carelessly, so heedlessly.”

All were silent for a moment, and when Father Hall spoke again, his voice had dropped two full tones, though it had gained in passionate intensity.

“And who are we to sit in judgement on any man’s conduct? Who are we to say why someone has done a thing that seems all wrong to us? What do we know of human motives? How do we know the thousand temptations resisted before that soul finally fell under the terrible pressure of repeated attacks?”

“We see a man, as he passes a fruit stand, stealthily pick up an orange. In our hearts we despise him for his petty theft. How do we know that he has walked the streets for days looking for work, that his pockets are empty, and that he is going home, despair in his soul, to a little child craving a fruit?”

“Silly example, but all life is much like that. What do any of us know of the fight the human soul makes before it yields to sin? Some Catholic woman marries after a divorce. We condemn her ruthlessly. Of course, she has sinned; she has done something forbidden by Christ Himself. But we had better not throw the first stone. Perhaps she struggled for years before finally she yielded.”

“I AM AFRAID TO GOSSIP”

“In my desk at this moment is a letter from a woman planning such a second marriage. There is stark tragedy in that letter. A lady bred, she has struggled for three years to make a go of her life. She was pitifully hungry for food when she wrote me the letter. She is facing an operation, and hasn’t a penny. A man, not a Catholic, is offering her what he thinks is marriage, and with it love, a home, money, protection, all that she craves. I know she should be strong enough to resist, and I know that God gives her the grace. But I am thanking God that I have not her temptations to fight. She is wrong, but who am I, in my sheltered life, to lay a bitter, gossipy tongue upon her?”

“ I am afraid to gossip. I am afraid that the sins at which I hold up my hands in horror may seem light in the eyes of Christ compared to my own sins. I am afraid to think what I might have done had I been faced. with the same temptations that have been met by the souls on whom I am prompted to look contemptuously. Perhaps in God’s sight I am more guilty than they. No saint, that’s sure, ever had an uncharitable word for any man or woman. The saints were too busy with the defects they found in themselves to give anything but tender pity and understanding to the sinners whom Christ had deigned to lift mercifully from the gutter. If the pure Christ had nothing but pity for sinners, I have small right to pull them to pieces or whip them with a contemptuous tongue.”

Father Hall’s voice had grown more and more intense. At the close it was almost like an impassioned whisper that died off into silence. But Mr. Bradley spoke.

TOO BUSY FOR SMALL STUFF

“Quite true,” he said, “and a viewpoint I”m afraid I never thought of. I don’t gossip- at least, not much-because I think that gossip is for small, unoccupied minds. Men of big affairs are too busy to gossip.”

It was Dick who once more protested.

“There’s just one difficulty, Father. Aren’t we ever going to talk about people? Must we always be talking about stocks and plays and sports and books? After all, people are the most interesting things in the world, and we’ve just got to talk about them.”

Father Hall stood up.

“Dick,” he said, “God and mankind are the only two things in the world worth talking about. Nothing, not the most beautiful mountain range nor the most wonderful piece of art, has any significance except in so far as it refers either to God orman or both. So by all means talk about people. Talk all you can about them. But talk beautifully of them. That’s all we ask.”

“Search out their splendid heroisms and talk of them. Tell of their unselfishness, their generosity, their idealism. Find the big things they have done in art and literature, in social life, in their secret souls. Drag those things into the light.”

“With mankind hungry for nobler things, why should we spend time only with men’s sins and women’s frailties? There’s all the wide range of man’s aspirations and achievements, all the loveliness of woman’s virtues for you to talk about.”

Father Hall suddenly lifted up his hand towards the moon.

“Let’s take the moon for the symbol of the man or woman who talks beautifully of mankind. Everything that the moon touches is more beautiful because of its touch. The moonbeams turn filth into silver, dark things into light. The moon smiles gently on lovers, benignly on old age, approvingly on youth. Everything it touches it beautifies. Everyone on whom its beams rest is better for its contact.”

“Far-fetched? I don’t think so. The man with the lovely mind finds beauty in everything, touches the filth of humanity and covers it with silver, turns darkness into light. He is interested in everything human, gentle to everything human, understanding and sympathetic always.

“But,” and he turned quickly, “my analogy is limping badly. There is so much that is fine and noble and beautiful in the world that I pray God I may never waste time on things that are low and ugly and sinful. I pray that I may see the best, know the best, and love to talk about the best. Let all of us leave gossip for small minds and uncharity for mean minds. For us only the best and finest that is in humanity.”

Nihil Obstat:

EDWARD FENNESSY, Diocesan Censor

Imprimatur:

@ DANIEL MANNIX,

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis 23rd September, 1959

********

Grow Up And Marry

INTERVIEW WITH RAPHAEL C. MCCARTHY, S.J. BY DANIEL A. LORD, S.J

INDEX

“The chief reason why marriages fail is the fact that people just don’t grow up.” Father Raphael C. McCarthy was talking. One of the most eminent psychologists in the United States, he got his doctorate in psychology from the University of London just 25 years ago in 1925. He had previously taken a course in medicine at St. Louis University. Since then he has been head of the Department of Psychology at St. Louis University and President of Marquette University in Milwaukee and is now director of the School of Nursing at St. Louis University.

We had asked him to explain why so many modern marriages go on the rocks. We wanted him to talk less as a priest than as a psychologist. We wanted him to explain less out of his experience in counselling the hundreds of young couples who have come to him, than from a study of those psychological problems which seem to make modern marriage hesitate, trip, and fall.

HAPPINESS AND SALVATION

“I am glad you want me to talk about marriage;” he said. “Certainly the whole subject of marriage is of the greatest interest to the majority of people. It should be. It was intended that most people should marry, and most people do marry.

“Happiness in marriage is often a very sure way to save one’s soul. Married people can so easily help each other to reach not only happiness, but God. So a happy marriage is a wonderful blessing. An unhappy marriage is a terrible affliction. Indeed a man and a woman may make a great success in other fields and find their success empty and uninspiring if they have to return every night to a home in which there is no peace and little understanding. One’s own home life is more important than any words can explain.

“Since we are today so interested in the State, we ought to realize that the State itself depends upon happy homes. You can’t have a solid, firm, vigorous nation unless you have pure, happy, peaceful homes in that nation.

“So any attempt that can possibly be made to bring about success in marriage is entirely on the right line. That is why the Church has been so extremely solicitous about marriage and why it safeguards marriage in every way that it can.”

Father McCarthy smiled his extremely attractive smile.

“Perhaps,” he said, “it always comes as a surprise-perhaps even with something of scandal-that a priest should set himself up as an authority on marriage. By what right does he advise about marriage? What in the world does he know about the whole matter?

OBJECTIVE VIEWPOINT

“These are questions that we might as well face frankly before I go on with this interview. I personally think that the priest has every right to advise on marriage. Indeed looking at marriage calmly and coolly-as he can, because he is not hampered by a subjective viewpoint-I think he can see it more clearly than can almost anyone else in the world.

“A doctor, you know, does not have to sample all his drugs in order effectively to prescribe. Certainly he does not have to have all the illnesses himself in order to know how to cure those illnesses.

“So a priest can talk about marriage without himself ever having been married and can give advice to married people about a career which he has never entered. First of all, he has years of training before he is ordained a priest. In my particular case, I had a thorough study of psychology after I became a priest. Then, through experience, a priest comes to know hundreds of couples before and after they are married. He listens to their stories and learns from them a great many practical problems and solutions beyond those which anyone could find in books of moral theology.

MARRIAGE TODAY

“Certainly,” he said, smiling again, “a mature priest ought to know a great deal more about marriage than do the youngsters who rush into it with no training and no experience whatsoever.

“So I find myself talking without any embarrassment to couples who come to me for advice on marriage. I have tried to forestall the difficulties that might arise. I have tried to show them in advance what the difficulties would be; for when a person knows the difficulty, the difficulty is already largely overcome.”

Father McCarthy took a more comfortable position and continued reflectively.

“The truth about marriage today is not particularly pleasant. It has fallen into deplorable conditions. Anyone who reads or keeps his eyes open knows that there are uncounted broken homes and that these arise out of the terrible bitterness that people find in marriage and the disillusionment that often follows the honeymoon.

“Now none of these conditions,” he said, lifting a warning hand, “flow from the nature of marriage itself. They are the consequences of sheer thoughtlessness on the part of those who contract marriage. They are the failures of those who play a game and refuse to live up to the rules that govern it.

GIVE AND TAKE

“Marriage is, as anyone can see, an extremely intimate affair. It makes so many demands upon the persons involved that only when the partners are temperamentally adjusted to one another is the marriage likely to be a success. If you stop to think of it, there is no other relationship in modern life that is so really close as the relationship in marriage. As a consequence beyond all other relationships it needs adjustment on the part of both the man and the woman.

“Remember: A marriage does not create character defects; it simply reveals them. It does not make people adaptable or in-adaptable. It merely gives them an opportunity to show whether or not they are capable of adapting their disposition and characters and natures. Marriage is unthinkable without constant give and take. It demands a supreme tolerance. It survives only if there is constant forgiveness. Certainly there is the need constantly to be forgiven.

“So naturally any wise man advises a couple before marriage to study one another very carefully. Is there a willingness to play the game of give and take? Is she able to check impulsiveness and thoughtlessness? Has he a high sense of duty and obligation? Or does either do things just for the fun of it?

A CHANGE FOR THE BETTER

“There are some natures that fit well together. There are some natures that despite a surface physical appeal naturally irritate each other. Marriage does not, I repeat, create dispositions: it merely reveals them. Yet young people look upon this revelation of character as if it were a complete change of character. “I”m so disillusioned,” you will hear them say. “The person I loved changed so much after we were married.” That is perfectly ridiculous. What happened after marriage was merely that the man or the woman displayed a disposition or a character which he or she had always had. Or-worse-after the hoodwink of romance had fallen from his eyes, the man (or the woman) suddenly saw his partner as she really was and not as wishful love had painted her. “The plain truth is that marriages, if they are to succeed, demand one kind of change-a change for the better. The marriage is a success if the person can say, “The one I married has changed so much that he is a vastly more attractive person than he was when I married him.” And even here the verdict is probably not correct; for all that has happened has been that he has manifested virtues and characteristics which have made him seem more loveable and attractive. The qualities were probably always there.” Father McCarthy looked up quickly.

SUCCESS AND FAILURE

“But I imagine that what you want to know is: What qualities make for success and what qualities make for failure? I can very easily give you the first reason for failure.

“People just do not grow up. One of the parties in the marriage remains emotionally immature. He or she goes on playing a child’s game in a state of life that demands the emotions and feelings of an adult. He wants to go on being a child when he should have the ability to assume responsibilities and to face the realties of life. Children do not marry. They couldn’t make a success of marriage. Adults who remain juvenile and adolescent, foredoom their own marriage to failure.

“It is easy to understand what we mean by maturity. It simply indicates a condition of complete development. Legally a person is mature when he has reached his full growth.

“There are several kinds of maturity. The first and simplest is physical maturity. This means that a person has reached his full physical stature. Time takes care of this without a great deal of co-operation on the part of the individual. The individual can of course violate the laws of his physical nature-eat badly, dissipate his energies, fail to get the necessary sleep, or live in unwholesome surroundings. But given even half a chance, the ordinary man and woman reach physical maturity without a great deal of effort or thoughtful planning.

“Then there is intellectual maturity. This means that the person has developed opinions. He holds these opinions with some degree of firmness. His opinions begin to have value.

“He can make a correct judgement. He has the ability to manage his own affairs.”

Father McCarthy looked very thoughtful.

EMOTIONAL MATURITY

“Now physical and intellectual maturity-each of these characteristics taken singly or both together-by no means guarantees emotional maturity. It is quite possible-and it often happens-that a man is six feet two, weighs 210 pounds, displays considerable intellectual ability, and yet reacts to his own personal problems exactly as a child reacts. He flies into sudden rages. He is easily hurt. He is impulsive and acts without thinking. He seems to have a distinct lack of self-control.

“I should be exaggerating if I said that only the rare individual attains emotional maturity.

“But I must say regretfully that an appalling number never really grow up as far as their emotions are concerned.”

Naturally this interested us very much, so we asked Father McCarthy to continue and explain for us exactly what this emotional maturity implies. When is a person emotionally grown up? What makes an adult act like a child?

Father McCarthy proceeded to discuss all most willingly.

DEGREES OF RESPONSE

“A person has reached emotional maturity when he has developed the ability to manage his own emotional responses. Small difficulties do not throw him into gloom and pessimism. Small problems which would utterly perplex a child do not make him lose his peace of mind. Sudden situations do not long disturb him. He can handle emergencies with calmness and dispatch.

“Perhaps one of the clearest signs of emotional maturity in a person is his realization that there are degrees of emotional responses. Most of the time these responses should be partial. A child goes all out over every emotional experience. He stubs his toe, and he bursts into tears. He is frightened, and he falls into a complete panic. He is angry, so he breaks whatever happens to be in his hands.

“An adult is quite different. He does not waste a tremendous emotional response on some relatively trifling affair. He can feel fear without going into a complete panic. He can know the surge of anger and yet not burst into an uncontrollable rage. He can meet a new situation and be puzzled by it and yet not feel that the world has come to an end. He can be thwarted or disappointed and not burst into heartbreaking tears.

THE ADOLESCENT

“Anyone who knows youngsters knows that there are definite signs of adolescence. The adolescent is very sensitive-indeed over-sensitive-to what other people think. He is afraid of his own decisions and prefers not to make decisions On the other hand when adults or others offer him an opinion, he regards it with suspicion and fear. He often has a kind of stubborn sulkiness and is full of quick moods which raise him to heights and drop him to depths. The tantrum characterizes the spoiled child. The quick release of emotional expressions, screams or shouts or tears or giggles, are all part of the years of immaturity.

“Now certainly an uncontrolled person, an immature person, is not likely to make a successful marriage. On the contrary the fact a person is not grown up is the very first reason for his being sure that he cannot make a good marriage. Marriage is an adventure that is meant for adults. It is a success between people who have mature, developed, or controlled characteristics.

“People must realize that success in marriage, happiness after the wedding, is not an accident. It is a positive achievement worked out by two people. It is a union of two mature personalities, each of which has a full development and each of which must manifest discipline and self-control. If there is a lack of development and a lack of control, there is much fault, and the consequences are jar ,and conflict, and rub, and irritation, and annoyance. The marriage is not likely to be a success if the people behave with the emotional instability that characterizes children and adolescents.”

SELFISHNESS

Father McCarthy paused for a minute, as if searching for exactly what he wanted to say.

“All this may still be a little vague,” he said. “So let’s take the two outstanding emotional instabilities. Let’s see those big offenders. Let’s look at those signs of emotional immaturity that are most likely to wreck a modern marriage.”

We settled back, prepared to listen intently for what we regarded as the heart of our interview.

“The great, common, outstanding manifestation that a man has not grown up or that a woman is still a child is plain selfishness.

“When you stop to think of it, the very first lesson that every person has to learn is the lesson of unselfishness. Of course it is difficult to learn. Of course we spend a lifetime practising unselfishness. But for a successful marriage unselfishness is absolutely essential. A child is by nature selfish. That is as it must be. All his interests are centred in himself. In the words of the old song, he wants what he wants when he wants it. The world outside of him appeals to him not at all except in so far as it ministers to his self-satisfaction. The child never gives a thought to the comfort or convenience of others. He is quite untroubled by their problems or their pains.

“Nature has arranged it that way, and adults accept this fact. We are moved by the child’s helplessness. The very fact that he cannot take care of himself invites the rest of us to serve him willingly.

CHILDISH TRICKS

“But even the infant is a human being. He soon learns that people are waiting on him. He learns that by little tricks he can impose upon them. When he is in pain or hungry or when he wishes to have his position changed, he instinctively cries. He finds out that when he cries adults rush to his assistance. He does not as yet know the connection between his tears and the immediate service that he gets. He knows only that when he cries he gets service, and he soon learns that tears are an easy way to browbeat his elders into dancing attention upon him. So when he is uncomfortable, he cries; and almost immediately the adults make him comfortable. This is quite too simple, so he repeats the process. He cries when he wants something. He cries when he is hungry or in pain. But he cries when he just wants attention. Sometimes we think that he cries merely because he notices that the adults are peaceful and contented and he has found the perfect way to disturb this peace.

PARENTS’ FAILURE

“Now this way of meeting an emergency and getting what one wants is fine for children. We accept it in them. It is after all the child’s only weapon and his one effective appeal.

“Naturally however this can’t go on. The child can’t continue to cry all his life. He can’t constantly think of himself and never of others. He has to realize that the comfort and convenience of those around him must also be considered.

“So a child in a well-regulated family is soon taught to control his tears. He is trained to subordinate his desires to the rights and conveniences of others. He learn to fit his life into the family pattern. He is taught that he cannot always have his own way in a house where there are many other people in addition to himself. Certainly all the services of the household cannot be placed at his disposal.

“Naturally the child does not want to give up his easy tears and his swift way of exercising power over others. Yet he has to relinquish these weapons. Hence it is the job of the parents to teach him consideration for others and the beginnings of unselfishness.

“Many parents fail their children badly in this regard. They accede to the child’s unreasonable demands, and the child soon finds that his parents actually reward his annoying or irritating conduct. He cries long and loud, and he gets what he wants. He stiffens, holds his breath, and gets red in the face until the frightened mother yields, picks him up, holds him against her breast, walks the floor with him, and gives him the attention that he wanted. So the next time he desires something, he lets out another healthy bellow. The next time he has some ungratified whim, he proceeds to frighten his young mother once more almost to death.

INTELLIGENT PARENTS

“In the same way a child will fly into a rage when he meets with some opposition. He will fling himself down on the floor, beat the rug with his heels, and yell and scream at the top of his lungs. Instead of being punished for this, he finds his doting and badly instructed parent immediately giving in and granting him whatever he wished. He is being rewarded for his badness and is being given favours in return for a display of emotional fireworks. What the parents have done is encourage his selfish conduct. They have built up in him a conviction that if he misbehaves long enough he can get anything that he wants.

“On the other hand wise parents teach their children to conquer their selfishness. Wise parents early set about to break selfish habits. They do not immediately rush to the child who cries. They do not tolerate displays of selfish rage. They do not encourage the child in his manifestation of bad disposition. Almost at once they start to correct selfish habits, hard as these are to break. For they know that the whole question of peaceful living or of constant conflict with others depends upon the way that the child is taught self-conquest and self-discipline.

“The easiest and earliest possible thing is to develop a selfish attitude. Any careless parent can achieve this for a child. Any careless parent can encourage a child in his egocentric attitude. But what a handicap this is to the child’s success in life, to the happiness of his marriage, and to the whole question of peaceful living.

PAINFUL LEARNING

“Let’s take the case of the spoiled baby who becomes the petted child. He won’t always be surrounded by the slavish attention of his parents. Soon in a new atmosphere he must meet new companions. These other youngsters are not going to give in to his whims. They are utterly unimpressed by his tears. His rages they find merely funny or annoying. So when the normal processes by which he used to get what he wanted now fail him, he reacts in intense irritation. He strikes out at his companions, struggles against them, insists on his selfish whims, and in most instances loses. He finds he does not make friends. Children do not like him. Yet he continues to struggle. His emotional outbursts worked with his parents; he believes he will make them work with his new companions.

“What his selfishness has done has been to plunge him into an endless struggle. He has not learned the principle of give and take: If he expects consideration for himself, he has to show consideration for others. He has to make reasonable sacrifices of himself if he is to live at peace with others. Ultimately any advantage for himself depends on his winning friends, making them like him, manifesting a degree of concern for their interests, and wanting to make them happy.

“As you can see, the principles of unselfishness cannot be taught in six easy lessons. They are learned often painfully. But sad and unhappy is the adult who has never learned them at all.

“Now let’s take the case of the child who has never learned to subordinate his will to the common good. He always sets his rights above the legitimate rights of others. He may come from a very good home and yet be emotionally untrained. He may be physically and mentally highly developed and yet be utterly spoiled.

“When children of this type come to marry, they carry into marriage a handicap that is almost impossible to overcome. Marriage is a co-operative concern, a fifty-fifty partnership. It is a venture that involves equal rights and equal duties. The obligations and privileges must be made to harmonize for the purpose of attaining a common goal. One person cannot do all the taking and the other all the giving. One cannot make all the concessions and the other none of the concessions.

THE OTHER’S GOOD

“And yet there are thousands of marriages that are doomed to unhappiness. They are made by men and women who live entirely for themselves, judge their partner in marriage on one sole basis: “How far does he (or she) contribute to my personal happiness? How far is he (or she) willing to set aside his (or her) own desires in order to satisfy my personal whims?”

“Oh of course love is essential for successful marriage. But love implies altruism, the strong and effective desire to make someone else happy. Love demands a willingness to seek first the good of the other. It is not love at all unless it is willing to make sacrifices-and make them frequently.

“Now selfishness these days does not take the form of wife-beating. Selfishness is not always so obvious as nagging. Sometimes it is not crude or blatant. It does not need to be. The small stone in the shoe can cause pain and do damage. The great irritations in married life may be few. But the constant pain of small irritations, the necessity to live with a person who is constantly, even though moderately, selfish-this is what wrecks marriages. Strangely enough a thoroughly selfish person may be not notably selfish in business. He may show little signs of selfishness with the people that he meets just for a brief time. Sometimes very selfish people will, in their desire to impress others, manifest outside their own homes a remarkable unselfishness of attitude.

THE MAN OBSERVES . .

“But let a person live lo ng with another person; let them feel the release which comes through the intimacy of marriage, and all the circumstances are there to manifest the selfishness which is the heart of their nature.

“So a prudent young man will slowly and carefully study the lady whom he intends to make his partner in marriage. He will watch to see how she acts with others. Much more important to observe is her conduct with her relatives than with strangers. Many a person is extremely pleasant to strangers and yet in his selfishness is hideously unpleasant to those of his own blood.”

THE GIRL OBSERVES . .

Father McCarthy was speaking now with great emphasis.

“I strongly advise girls to be very slow about picking out the young men they want to marry. A girl ought to watch for every sign of selfishness. She ought to watch especially for those small signs that are the real give-away. “For instance . . . If he stays in his car when he comes to call for her and summons her by honking his horn, that is a selfish gesture. If she finds that he is constantly hinting how irresistible he is to women, and if he boasts of the number of women who have fallen for him, he is crassly conceited and hence a crassly selfish young man. She should beware of him if any criticism makes him sulky and if he resents her not responding always and immediately to his suggestions. He is selfish if he is annoyed when she asks some small favour for her family, some small consideration to be shown the things that her mother or father likes done around the house. She might even watch to see whether he takes the most comfortable chair in the living room. Does he always insist on doing what he wants to do whether or not she likes it? For example, do they always spend the evening at the kind of entertainment that he enjoys? Does he push aside with no consideration whatsoever the type of amusement she likes?

THE LITTLE IRRITATIONS

“Anyone can see that these signs of selfishness are really very trivial. They are no more trivial however than the symptoms of a disease; they are the symptoms of that selfishness which makes marriage unhappy and often intolerable.

“Don’t think for a moment that selfishness is merely a male vice. Girls have their own special forms of selfishness, and they are many.

“So since many marriages are spoiled by the selfishness of the wife, the prospective husband should carefully watch the girl for signs of this thoughtless selfishness. Many a woman, as we well know, takes it for granted that her husband should manifest a great deal of thoughtfulness for her. He should be generous with his gifts. He should show every consideration for her every wish. Quite right. But what is to be said for the woman who accepts these gifts without gratitude, who takes her husband’s virtues for granted, who acts as if his courtesies were entirely her due?

“Often enough the husband turns out to be the quite forgotten man.

“Husbands often manifest a magnificent loyalty and unselfishness in many cases. They are kind in word and generous in conduct. But that unselfishness will not continue after the husband finds that he is getting very little in return from his wife or from his children, whom his wife has trained to regard their father as a perpetual Santa Claus.

CHECKING . . . COURTSHIP AND MARRIAGE

“Therefore I advise any young man to make a careful study of the girl he wants to marry and a keen analysis of her character. Is she cheerful? Has she a happy disposition? Is she considerate and thoughtful when she deals with others? Does she see the good in other people, or does she see only-and always-their mistakes and blemishes? If he is generous, does he find her taking advantage of his generosity? Is she willing on occasions to do things his way and to accede to his wishes and desires? When there is something that he wants to do or when he expresses a particular wish, does she turn on him and charge him with selfishness? Indeed is she always charging other people with selfishness?

“Important as it is for people to check each other’s qualities before marriage, such checking should not stop with marriage. The wise married couple will constantly check themselves. They have to find out how far they are developing either personal selfishness or selflessness. Are they manifesting after marriage habits of real childishness?

THE SPOILED CHILD

“All this care is particularly important in the matter of any only child. An only child has twenty per cent. less chance of being happy in marriage than has one who has brothers and sisters. You see, an only child runs a real danger of being spoiled, and any spoiled child becomes an adult who is hard to get along with.

“But-and for obvious reasons-if a young man has had too many sisters, he may turn out to be a less satisfactory husband. A large family of sisters is likely to spoil the only boy. He may get into the habit of expecting to be waited on; indeed he may grow very impatient with his onewife’s failure to take care of all the details of his comfort which formerly had been handled by a bevy of sisters.

“But coming back to the only child . . . I am only stressing the obvious when I say that an only child is likely to have a very exaggerated idea of his own importance. He sees himself as the centre of life in his home. He has had the undivided attention of his father and mother. This he takes for granted; in fact he expects it, and later on he may come to demand it.”

DEPENDENCE

Father McCarthy now made a transition which, we could see, was inspired by what he had been talking about. “That subject of an only child brings me to the second manifestation of emotional immaturity. There is that holdover from childhood by which a person retains a childish dependence upon his parents.

“In the normal process of development a person’s feelings should be widely distributed. An infant concentrates on his mother, and this is perfectly natural. Even when he grows a little older, he sets her apart and regards her with a very special love.

“But this quite intelligible love of childhood cannot remain focussed on one person. It should reach out as the child grows older, toward playmates, associates, other members of the family. Yet you will find cases where the love does remain fixed upon the mother. The child is encouraged to love her and her alone. He finds that life is very comfortable if he is constantly in her company. So the child, who was meant to include in his affection a number of people, reserves his affection for his mother, the sole object of his devotion.

“A child of this type grown to physical maturity is very likely to make an unsuccessful marriage. He cannot switch his love from his mother to his wife. Even after marriage he clings to his mother. During the days when he is planning for marriage, he is thinking of his mother rather than of the girl he intends to marry.

“Putting it flatly and frankly, I should say that such a young man or such a young girl simply has not grown up. “Often enough it is the mothers who are to blame for this situation. They seize avidly upon the love of their children. Especially will this happen in cases where the mother has lost her husband or where the husband does not show the affection that the wife would like to have. Then the mother turns to the child and clings to him or her with passionate intensity. She builds a wall around the child, making him the object of abnormal solicitude.

MOTHER IMAGE

“Needless to say, this is extremely harmful for any child. It makes him oversensitive. His mother never criticizes him, so he is furious when others criticize him-or he is hurt or crushed. She has never seen any fault in him, and consequently she has never given him any of that discipline which is necessary for self-control and for any type of successful marriage.

“The mother’s constant attention has developed in the child an exalted sense of his own importance. He loves his mother because she has been so good to him. He is afraid that no one else could ever be so good to him, so he withholds his love from others. Then when he grows to manhood, that love which nature had meant him to transfer to or at least share with his wife remains concentrated upon his mother.

“Many children of this type never marry at all. The boy will continue to wait for some ideal woman who never comes along. For he constantly compares all women with his mother, and he never finds a woman who matches the qualities he has known in her.

“Many boys of this type marry women older than themselves. You will notice that the woman that such a man eventually picks out is very much like his own mother. His wife is never quite a wife; she is rather like a mother image.

“Toward his wife a man of this type will feel that reverent attitude which he felt toward his mother; such reverence is a very different thing from the love which he should feel for his wife.

COMPARING

“Constantly in his own mind and often in outward speech he compares his wife with his mother, contrasting their cooking, their housekeeping, their ways of dressing, their friends. You see, the mother-in-law problem can become a very acute one. It can have a real basis in the bad training of a child.

“Now the tragedy of all this is that his comparison of his wife and his mother is usually not based on truth. He has an ideal picture of the doting woman who lavished her affection upon him; he compares his wife, not with a real woman, but with the dream woman who made life so luxurious for him.

“After he is married, he seems to forget that he married a young woman of his own age; he regrets that he did not marry someone of the maturity and full development of his mother. So he fails to give his wife time and opportunity to become the experienced cook and housekeeper that his mother was as long as he had known her. He finds that his wife is losing glamour in his eyes simply because she is not in everything that she does or says or thinks an exact duplicate of his mother.”

Father McCarthy raised his hand to ward off a possible objection.

EXCESSIVE LOVE

“Please do not think that I am in any way belittling family affection. Any child is lucky to have a happy home environment. But that home should not be allowed to interfere with the happiness of the home that he establishes after his marriage. The beautiful thing which is his love for his mother should not degenerate into a stupid dependence and a romantic idealization, which make the realities of married life intolerable.

“A mother often hates to see her baby grow up. She resents the friendships which he establishes with strangers. She tries to prevent the boy from turning in affection toward other people. In fact she seems to find it almost impossible gracefully to step aside or even in a limited degree to share her son with the normal friends he should be making.

“This excessive love of a mother so handicaps the child that only with great difficulty does he become adult.

“In the same way a person who has been too sheltered from temptation and from life’s difficulties may turn out to be a very unsatisfactory husband or wife. He has never learned to stand on his own feet. He has not been taught to make a decision and then to take the consequences that follow oncethe decision has been made. A mother’s brooding love has kept temptation far from him. It has shielded him in every trial. It has forestalled his decisions; it has made decisions for him.

UNNATURAL PROTECTION

“Of course I can understand why mothers want to protect their children. Naturally they want to shelter them against the problems of childhood. But there may be in this maternal attitude a deep parental selfishness. We have all known parents who actually develop situations to keep a child with them or dependent upon them. They have made the child unfit to face life. What they have done by this is create disgruntled old bachelors and sour “old maids”, who should have married had they not been so carefully sheltered in their parental home that they were unable to leave the nest and make lives of their own.

“Parents of this type discourage friendships. They ridicule the suitor who comes to the house or scoff at the girl in whom the son is interested. They indicate very clearly that friends are not wanted; and when friends do come to the house, they are soon made to feel that they are not welcome. These parents cut down the normal social life of their children and insist that the children should be entirely satisfied with the company of their mother and father. Often the mother will provide a social life which is so very satisfactory that it eliminates the desire for any other social life. Ultimately it stunts the child’s ability to deal with people or to enter the normal life that an adult should lead.

“Of course such procedure is rank injustice. It is a stupid thwarting of children, especially of adolescent children, by keeping them completely dependent.

“This type of child is likely to remain a dependent child all his life. Children who have been spoiled in this way never become adults emotionally.

GUIDANCE TOWARD ADULTHOOD

“All their life they remain stunted and thwarted, and in marriage they are likely to be sad and often misunderstood failures.

“Undoubtedly parents must and should protect their children. But in childhood and later in adolescence the children should be given plenty of opportunity to decide for themselves. They should be encouraged to choose their own clothes, to select their own friends and amusements. They should be cut away from regimentation and taught early to act like adults.

“Otherwise they are without preparation catapulted into those conditions of life which surround adulthood. They are plunged into a marriage for which they are utterly unfitted. They are doomed to unhappiness.

ADOLESCENCE VERSUS ADULTHOOD

“Adolescence might be defined as that period during which a child is made over into an adult. This means that the period should be characterized by definite traits. An adolescent should have a wide interest in young people. He should fall in love easily-and perhaps often. There is no particular reason why the boy or the girl during the period of adolescence between fourteen and seventeen should be interested in any one particular person for any length of time. He is supposed to have a variety of friends and to like them all with considerable intensity.

“But later on, when he or she reaches maturity, the boy or the girl, now a young man or a young woman, is expected to concentrate on one person. He or she is to fall seriously in love, settle down, feel satisfied, and marry.

“It is the characteristic of the younger adolescent boy that he is interested in girls as girls and not in any particular girl. In the same way the adolescent girl is interested in boys as boys and not in some particular boy.

“But there is something extremely unwholesome in this attitude if it continues into adult years. The adult has not become emotionally mature if he finds himself incapable of concentrating on one person. There are men and women who find that one person does not satisfy or exhaust their powers of affection. They continue an adolescent interest in a great many people. They fall in love easily and frequently. They are simply adolescents no matter what their years,”

INTERDEPENDENCE

Again Father McCarthy switched his subject slightly.

“Inside of marriage the question of interdependence is important. When I talked about parents” training their children to a degree of independence, I meant it very seriously. But it is not abnormal that a woman should be somewhat more dependent than a man. Only recently have women been thrown into competitive life. Even this has not meant that they have reached a degree of independence that characterizes and should characterize a man.

“But a really depend ent man makes a bad husband. He is a trial to himself and a disappointment to his wife. He goes around consulting anyone who will listen to him or will show any willingness to give him advice. His wife finds that he is influenced by the last opinion that he has heard. He seems almost incapable of taking an objective viewpoint and making an objective decision.

“This emotional lack makes it very difficult for him to manage successfully the matters that will arise in his married life.

DOMINANCE

“Women of the clinging-vine type are not always objectionable. In fact they might be quite charming. But in these days when two people marry, they should be regarded as equals. They should learn to share their problems and divide their labours. I should suggest for instance that it is the wise policy for the man to handle the business matters and for the women to administer the home.

“But if one of the partners is going to be dominant, that dominant one should be the man. Statistics show that the homes in which the woman is dominant are only forty-seven per cent happy. Homes where the man is the dominant element are sixty per cent. happy. But for real happiness there should be a partnership and no particular dominance of either the husband or the wife. A marriage of this last type is likely to be eighty per cent. successful and happy.

“So the best advice that I could possibly give to those who are about to be married is the advice to grow up first. This means the elimination of major selfishness on the part of both the men and the women. It means the careful avoidance of either a man or a woman who shows by his or her conduct an unwholesome dependence upon a mother.”

********

Growing Old

THOMAS RUDD, M.D., M.R.C.P

INDEX

FOREWORD

Darling, I am growing old, Silver threads among the gold, But my darling you will be Always young and fair to me.

I WAS REMINDED of these lines of a well-known song very popular in days gone by, when I received the script of the new pamphlet by Dr Thomas Rudd entitled Growing Old. The problem which he examines so carefully will bring home to us that in many cases old people are not the darlings of the community.

The writer says “the case of the frail and unwanted elderly person capable of being managed at home, but for whom the community has no real use, is surely one of the great moral problems of the day.”

We are well aware of the devoted work done by our religious Congregations, whose members are dedicated to the care of the aged. We have seen their work at close hand and realize what happiness they bring into the lives of old people of any race or creed. Whether old people are received into Homes or visited individually, the care given to them is inspired by the charity of Christ.

Every season of life, like the seasons of the year, has its beauty, and the autumn and winter of our days on earth have their own attraction. Dr Rudd lays stress on this fact and, by reminding his readers of the normality of old age, suggests various ways in which true Christian neighbourliness can be shown to those who, having borne the burden and heats of the years, are now moving towards life’s close.

We think that all who read this pamphlet will be convinced of the importance of the problem of the care of our old people and will consider in what way a real personal contribution may be made to provide the remedy. There are countless lonely old folk who would appreciate the personal service of those who, for the love of God, would visit them and minister to their needs. The scope for such admirable work is well indicated by the author and we hope and pray that many will read what Dr Rudd has written, and be moved, not merely to pity the lot of those who spend old age alone, needy and unbefriended, but also to that true brotherly charity to which Our Lord referred when He said: “Believe me, when you did it to one of the least of my brethren here, you did it to me” (Mt. 26 : 40).

WILLIAM Archbishop of Westminster

I

THE NORMALITY OF AGEING

WE SHALL, of course, all of us grow old: subject that is to the hazards of life and limb which all of us face daily. Few of us look to be cut off in our prime. Should we not then expect old age to be regarded as a natural stage of life, as normal to the individual as childhood, adolescence or maturity? In point of fact, we seldom look upon old age in such a way. The fixation of the school-leaving age and, at the other end of life, the age for retirement on pension, seems to have given rise to a false division of life into stages, of which the first is looked upon merely as the preparation for wage-earning, and the last as a sort of “post-script”, a period of uselessness and marking time while waiting for death. This attitude goes, of course, against traditional philosophy and is certainly contrary to the teaching of the Christian religion. It is no doubt part of what we have inherited from the age of materialism, in which for more than 200 years we have been living.

Old age, therefore, we can, and must, accept as a normal and (for many people) a necessary stage in life, one which, like the other stages of life, has its own characteristics, its opportunities, hazards and temptations, which are peculiar to itself: and like the other stages in life, its own particular contribution to make to the life of the community. In other words, old age can be said to have its own “work”. This will be discussed later: it is enough to say here that, while the “work” of old age is obviously very different from the “work” of childhood or maturity, it is nonetheless valid and of equal significance, not only to the individual but to the entire community.

Reaching retirement age should not, of course, mean that a man or a woman must necessarily stop working. Those with the necessary physical strength should, in any justly-run community, be allowed to continue their normal employment, or be free to seek some alternative occupation. The decision between retirement or continued work should be a personal one, ideally to be solved by the inclinations of the individual, who should be equally free either to go on working or to take his leisure. Nonetheless, by the time the normal age of retirement has been reached, a man’s life should be dominated by values different from those which have ruled him during the years of maturity. The desire for power and to “get on”, the instinct to accumulate material things, these have served their day, and the man who wishes to work into his old age should beware not to be ruled by values whose validity he has outgrown. Better values for him now are pride of workmanship, the giving of devoted service to his occupation and the teaching of his craft and its ethical values, in however humble the sphere, to the rising generation.

Nowadays, far more people than formerly have an opportunity of living into post-retirement years. For this we can thank scientific progress which has so improved the hygienic conditions of life and led to such advances in preventive medicine and treatment that men and women enter their sixties not only more often than they used to, but with greater health and physical resistance. Thanks also to social legislation, state and industrial pension schemes have made it possible for many people to choose retirement and to live thereafter with some degree of security. Such a change in social conditions must be expected to have its disadvantages, and it is these which are apt to dominate the picture which we draw for ourselves, of old age in the modern world. There are, undoubtedly, many people who have been rescued by modern medical science from premature death due to pneumonia or epidemic disease, but who in post-retirement years fall victim either to a slow deterioration of mind or body, or who are visited by some sudden “stroke” which leads to paralysis and a prolonged terminal illness. These types of illness place a severe strain on younger people, often members of the sufferer’s family who have to provide the home care that is necessary. A similar strain falls on the hospital and state-welfare services which have either to help, or sometimes to assume full responsibility for the sick person’s care for the rest of his life. It is undoubtedly true that such illness in old age is, in a way, a burden just as the care of children during school age can be considered a burden on their parents. To look upon the matter entirely from this viewpoint would be, however, to assess the situation quite wrongly. The problems of old age are, in fact, the price we are paying for our own chances of happy and healthy survival into old age. To evade them would be to evade our normal moral responsibilities. This can, with fairness, be put more strongly, and it is no exaggeration to say that we have no right, as individuals, to benefit from longer years of life if we are unwilling to take some share of responsibility for the care of other people in their old age.

II

THE CHRISTIAN LOOKS UPON OLD AGE

THE PICTURE that the modern social worker sees of old age is a very varied one. He sees human nature at its most glorious, the spirit soaring above its trials and enforced sacrifices, in dedication to God. On the other hand, he also sees it at its most degraded, in its filth, its despair and its meanness. In between these two extremes is a whole gradation of different approaches: some predominantly good, others predominantly bad, but generally very mixed. Next door to the old woman, actively striving despite repeated failure to serve God according to her lights, is the old man whose only concern is his next meal. All are in need of help, bodily, mental or spiritual. Not all of them will agree that they need any help, least of all in the spiritual sphere. Poverty, ill health and loneliness cry out loudest for relief, .though there are many who express their sense of need forGod’s forgiveness. This seems usually for unspecified-and not very obvious falls from grace, and is a welcome sign, indicating as it no doubt does what Fr Riccardo Lombardi S.J. calls “the minimum expression of indispensable faith” on which ultimate salvation may depend. On the material side, the social worker will find many needs, for medical and nursing help, for domestic assistance, for company by day and by night and for adequate housing either in private dwellings or in some form of community home. For only too many, loneliness colours all their material needs. The old who are alone nearly all their lives feel neglected, rejected and lacking in all significance. When family relationships are concerned, once again a varying picture is seen. As many as 30 per cent. of persons of pensionable age have no near relations in any younger age-group; some have devoted children living at a great distance, some a single son or daughter unable to help in a really effective way, while others may have children who are frankly neglectful and lacking all sense of personal responsibility for their old parents. Time after time, the worker is almost overwhelmed by the size of the problem and the absolute inadequacy of all the statutory and voluntary means available even to touch the fringe of the matter.

When it is suggested that the Welfare State is inadequate to deal with the problem, no criticism is implied. Much indeed has been done to mitigate the hardship of the aged. The population at risk and in potential need is unfortunately about one-tenth of the total national population and any organised plan to cover the entire need would involve the employment of so many people that the country’s economy would be disrupted. Clearly the National Health and Welfare Services must be maintained, and whenever possible expanded. Equally clearly, the magnificent work of the many voluntary organisations prominent in the social world today must be encouraged and supported in every way possible. Everything cannot, however, be left to their efforts. We cannot, in fact, contract out of our moral responsibilities for our fellow-citizens, whether they are members of our family or not. In Great Britain today we have still managed to retain within the family a sense of cohesion and mutual responsibility, and this in spite of the serious social strains resulting from small families, difficult housing conditions and the movements of population, especially the migration of younger workers to new industrial sites. Even in family relationships, there are signs that all is not well, and that the next twenty years may show a great deterioration of family devotion towards their elders. The problem is, however, a wider one than that of family cohesion, and those who have no aged relatives themselves are by no means unconcerned in the moral values involved. As a nation, we must ask ourselves, not only the question: “have I a duty to support my parents?” but, also “am I my brother’s keeper?” The answer to this question will be considered later. Meanwhile it can be stated that the uncertainty which so many older people today feel about their position in the community and the lack of real regard which they find paid to them, is undermining not only their health and happiness, but also the psychological health of the generation who will be the next to draw their old age pensions. It is probably no exaggeration to say that many people in their fifties are consumed by a secret, perhaps unrecognised, fear that they too will be rejected in the time of their own old age, and that this fear colours their whole approach to growing old, both in themselves and others. The fact that they cannot bear to think of their own future, makes them even more intolerant of the reality of old age in their family and acquaintances. This is, in itself, a source of great unhappiness in the community. It remains true that old age is for many of us an unwelcome, undiscovered country. Nevertheless, many travellers have found their way through it in safety and have unearthed precious treasures which remain for others to find also. The passage is clearly a time of risk, as indeed is every other stage in life. No one thinks of approaching manhood without some preparation through formal or informal education, and that preparation should include a knowledge of the risks involved and how to meet them. Surely the same should apply to entry into old age. How many people, in fact, give serious attention to this matter? Perhaps they are held back by excessive preoccupation with the material aspects of life: whether that be so, or not, too few people seem to be facing up to their old age, its problems, the renunciations likely to be demanded of them, and the lessons they may have to learn. Rather, they banish the whole subject from their consciousness, until the hard reality of the years is suddenly upon them and they find themselves in battle, entirely without armour.

III

SOCIAL RESPONSIBILITY AND MODERN PROBLEMS

THE SOCIAL CONDITIONS surrounding the elderly, for which we as a nation are collectively responsible, are serious and difficult to solve. We are faced with a mass of need, greatly outweighing the facilities available to deal with it. Many of us are familiar with the problems of the hospitals for the elderly sick and the mentally ill, and the difficulties in securing admission thereto. We know of the long waiting lists for admission to Residential Homes provided by Local Authorities and voluntary housing societies. We may also know of the great shortage of workers, not only in the spheres of nursing, but also of medical technicians, radiographers, physiotherapists and occupational therapists and that such shortages are cramping the efficiency of hospitals as well as the residential homes. What we don’t often realise is that there are in hospitals, both for the elderly chronic sick and for the mentally afflicted, many old people whose medical conditions do not warrant their continued stay there as in-patients, but who cannot be discharged home because they have no homes to which they could return, or relatives able or willing to care for them. This situation has to be viewed against a background of full employment, where there is every attraction to women, married and single, to leave their homes and earn big wages, where much industrial output is concerned with such luxury goods as cigarettes, cosmetics, wireless and television, catering for the rising standards of living enjoyed by the Western World. Behind this is a level of taxation as high as wage-earners will tolerate without demanding that each fresh increase shall be balanced by rising wages so that their personal living standards shall be untouched. The opportunity for women to earn good wages in industry, with fixed hours and minimal demands on the personality is, at first glance, an extremely attractive one, and is a major obstacle to old people being managed at home in times of frailty and also to their being returned home from hospital when treatment has been completed.

The case of the frail and unwanted elderly person, capable of being managed at home, but for whom the community has no real use, is surely one of the grave moral problems of the day. The misery caused to countless lonely old people through this attitude of rejection, has already been mentioned. Legions of these “unwanted” spend endless months in chronic sick and mental hospitals because they have nowhere else to go. The dislocation of the hospital services arising from having to retain such patients in overcrowded wards, and the consequent delays in admitting cases of urgency for whom the hospitals have a duty to perform, is only one side of the problem. Clearly, it should be possible to discharge such recovered frail patients, either to their own homes, to those of charitable people or to specially designed premises for the communal care of those who are physically or mentally feeble-if only Christian charity, expressing itself in personal service and money, were available. Meanwhile, the unfortunates whom we are now considering are a submerged section of the community, whose interests, nay, whose physical and mental health, are being sacrificed by the young and the healthy. In such a connection, the term “sacrifice” is not too strong to use, as the victims could well be relieved, though only at the cost of some personal inconvenience to the remainder of society. Not unnaturally, we find the mentally sick undesirable companions, and prefer, in our own interests, as well as in theirs, that they should be segregated. Granting this, can we still feel as Christians that we have the right to be neglectful of their best interests as to be careless about the overcrowding and dinginess of the surroundings which are the lot of so many mental patients, to the distress of doctors, nurses and hospital committees who are powerless to remedy the situation? When nearly half the hospital beds in the country are occupied by cases of mental disease or mental deficiency, enormous expenditure would be required to upgrade this part of the hospital service to the level of general or children’s hospitals. Are we, as Christians, willing to face this problem: are we, in other words, willing to pay more in taxes, or to surrender some the benefits we enjoy from the National Health Service, so that the old and mentally sick shall have a fairer share? Are we, above all, prepared personally to shoulder some of the burden by working among the aged and the mentally afflicted, encouraging our sons and daughters to do the same? The present mature generation is rightly preoccupied by thoughts of old age and will find no real peace of mind until it has solved its moral problem. For it knows, consciously or subconsciously, that its comforts are enjoyed at the expense of the older generation. In mythological terms, the community is sacrificing itself to itself, and is haunted by the thought that before long the position may well be reversed, and that today’s priest may be the victim of tomorrow. It is a modern repetition of the lifehistory of the Priest of Diana at Nemi, referred to by Macaulay “the priest who slewthe slayer, and shall himself be slain” (1).

And at the back of the scene stands the figure of the Suffering Servant, crying out: “Is it nothing to you, all ye that pass by?” (2), and Our Lord Himself, saying: “Inasmuch as ye did it not to one of the least of these, ye did it not unto Me.” (3).

(1) T. B. Macaulay: “The Battle of the Lake Regillus.”

(2) Lamentations 1:13.

(3) St Matthew 25:45

IV

HOW TO SERVE

IN A FIELD so wide, and where there is the greatest need in every part, opportunities for Christian service should not be hard to find. No one is too young or too old, too poor or too rich, or too busy to be able to do something, for the one thing required in the giver is Christian Charity.

In the home, where Charity should begin, many opportunities can be found. Families that have room enough, but who would not normally receive paying guests, can take a homeless old person, otherwise forced to remain in hospital, as has so often been arranged under the successful “boarding-out” schemes of the Councils of Social Service of Exeter and Ply- mouth. The fact that fair payment is taken for services rendered does not destroy the value of the action. Every member of the family can give his spare time as well as money, denying himself part of his leisure or some minor luxury, towards the many charitable efforts made for the aged, in the form of clubs, pensioners” societies, leagues of Hospital Friends, as well as those made by the big voluntary societies such as the Red Cross-St John organisation, the W.V.S. or the various Old People’s Welfare Committees which act as local co-ordinators of local efforts. Personal service is needed as badly as. money, and many services, such as visiting the elderly in their homes and the supply of “Meals on Wheels” fall short of what is needed because of the lack of volunteers. Visitors may indeed be found to make brief calls on old people, to take a few flowers, make a few bright remarks and then pass on. How much more valuable (but how much more costing to the giver is a prolonged stay of perhaps three hours with a dull, querulous old woman, in a stuffy, dingy house, while the daughter, otherwise as house-bound as her aged mother, is released for a visit to friends or to the cinema. To deliver mobile meals twice weekly may be an interesting piece of social work to a leisured woman-but two hot meals weekly are a poor contribution to the proper nutrition of an aged couple trying to maintain their home life. To deliver the meals not twice, but five times, weekly, surrendering much of one’s personal liberty in doing so, comes nearer to the example of the saints. There are many devout Christians unable to go to church because they have no one to take them by car or wheeled chair. Here is an opportunity for the young. Holy Communion given by the priest at home doesn’t fill the gap in the heart of the devout Catholic who longs once more to join in offering up Mass in his parish church before he dies.

The professional worker is in a special and privileged posi tion, however humble his or her role may be. “Professional excellence” in their vocation is, of course, demanded by the Church of its members, as part of their service to God: work with the aged and the mentally sick calls for, over and above this, a constant display of holy charity which must be particularly acceptable to Our Lord. Professional excellence demands not only hard work, but study of the problems with which we are face to face, so that we shall attack them in the best way. Charity, if it is to be continually forthcoming, in all the trying circumstances associated with the care of the old, needs constant prayer. Professional workers, whether they be doctors, nurses, or attendants in old people’s homes, to say nothing of those who render faithful service to old people, such as “Home Helps”, are rightly reticent about the religious faith that animates them. True charity is, however, a thing that cannot be hidden, and old people, even when mentally feeble, soon come to learn the well-spring of the kindness shown to them by those who care for them. This, in itself, may turn the thoughts of someone, grown careless, to the faith which he learned as a child. Many a lapsed Catholic, in hospital during a terminal illness, has been brought back to his religion by the devotion of a Catholic nurse, while many other practising Catholics at their death owed their receiving Extreme Unction to the vigilance and devotion of a nurse.

With the increasing needs of the aged and mentally ill, an enormous field has been opened up to the Religious Communities at a time when, as if by the finger of God, their services to needy children are in decreasing demand. In spite of a shortage of vocations, it is still the religious orders which have the untiring devotion, as well as the personnel, that this kind of work demands. And when this effort, comprised of work supported by prayer, is turned in greater force even than at present upon these problems, who can tell what stream of fresh vocations will appear, rivalling those of the glorious early days of the Fransciscan Order and be Jesuits? Even today one can see the great works of St Vincent de Paul reappearing among the followers of Don Orione, the Sons of Divine Providence.

All these are external works of mercy, capable of being done only by those who are active in body or specially trained. Not any less in value are the works of prayer, and these can be offered by those who can serve in no other way, even by the aged themselves who, even though bedfast, can still play this, their small human part, in the work of Divine Redemption. Denied all forms of external activity, they can still pray, and a task of the magnitude of this can flourish only with much prayer. Doctors, nurses, and indeed all concerned, need constant prayerful support. Those who cannot serve themselves can pray that others may find their vocations, either inside or outside the religious orders. Especially can they pray for those whose lives are as yet undirected, or for those who have lost their way in life, having the leisure but no idea how to use it, that such may find themselves in serving the needy. Finally, they can pray for others who are old, that among the deprivations that old age brings, they too may offer their sufferings in union with the sufferings of Our Lord in His Sacred Passion.

V

LEARNING TO GROW UP

BUT TO BE ABLE to pray for others, as a major work of old age, needs hard work in earlier years. It also requires a complete reorientation of our lives, not only of the attitudes we have taken up in our mature years, but also in regard to those which are accepted by the world as proper and normal to old age itself. We are well aware that we live in an age of materialism. What we do not always realise is how much we are unconsciously influenced by the values of the world in which we live, even when we consciously vigorously reject them. It is customary for the more liberal writers on old age to stress the psychological needs of old people, their rights to security, to freedom of choice within the bounds of what is practically possible, and their need of respect of their personality. All this is true and very necessary; but we have need to take care not to overstress these values. Childhood also has its rights, especially the right of security in material and emotional spheres: but a child brought up to consider only its rights and none of its responsibilities and duties will grow into a bad man. Much the same is true of old age and modern attitudes are unfortunately teaching old people to over-emphasize their rights and to exert political pressure to secure them, careless of the effect on the national prosperity. Preoccupation with one’s rights is both disastrous psychologically and wrong religiously. Post-retirement happiness is an aim which we may validly seek for ourselves and for others. It can, however, only be attained if, together with the reasonable satisfaction of basic psychological needs, the subject has a well-developed sense of responsibility as a member of the community of which he is one of the elder brethren, and a mind well-adapted to the changed environment which comes with age.

Adaptation is a slow business and we cannot therefore start too young. It must certainly be begun during our fifties. Recent American sociological studies have shown that happiness after retirement depends largely on pre-retirement attitudes. The same principle undoubtedly holds in the wider field of ageing. Those who look forward to their old age, being unperturbed by the knowledge that loneliness, loss of health or the faculties of vision and hearing and some degree of loss of worldly status are more or less inevitable, are likely to grow old gracefully. Those who shut their minds to the possibility of such things happening to themselves will age badly and grow yearly more narrow and resentful. It is on such people that the tragedy of senile dementia most heavily falls. Physical failure may be inevitable, though even here, a philosophic mind in a body free from excesses (especially the excess of food, which is perhaps the greatest hazard known to the western world today)-what the ancients described as “mens sana in corpore sano-is likely to come off best. The mind is the dominant factor and the best prescription for healthy old age is surely a mind devoted to God. The physical capacity of our present Pontiff is a wonderful example of this. Those who best know the lives of the saints of the Church are unable to recall the life of a saint ending in senile dementia as known to psychiatrists.

The work of old age is the adaptation to a changed environment, devised by a loving God for the perfection of a soul. Part of this work is the learning of lessons which have somehow not been learned earlier, as well as certain lessons which are peculiar to old age. The ability to renounce things, previously felt to be vital to life, is an important feature. Sometimes this renunciation is forced upon us by the conditions of life, and the demands of our fellow-men; at other times, it is imposed on us by God, who presents us, as it were, with a “fait accompli”, and leaves it for us to learn the lessons of the new situation. These renunciations all take the form of “little deaths” which are essential if the personality is to mature. This is what St John of the Cross means when he writes

I live, but no true life I know,

And living thus expectantly

I die, because I do not die.

To approach old age in this way puts the whole matter into perspective-and we see it three-dimensionally, as a thing consistent with the will of God, and no longer as a caricature of humanity, to which the Eternal Power is sublimely indifferent. In other words, it enables us to reorientate towards senility in ourselves and others, in those who have ceased to originate either thought or action and who live on a purely vegetative plane, often with remarkable sweetness to those who care for them. No one this side of eternity can tell what proceeds within these brains, but one is forcibly reminded once again of St John of the Cross,

Now guard I no flock, nor have I now other office.

For now my exercise is in loving alone.

Old age undoubtedly has its glorious achievements and triumphs. To see them, you have to know where to look. They are often triumphs of sacrifice, in many cases as willingly given as the sacrifice of youth in some great national cause. In many ways, old age is a martyrdom, one likely to be, for many of us, the fulfilment of the prayer we say each Sunday, in the Mass, “for some part and fellowship with Thy holy apostles and martyrs.” But the only earthly crown we shall gain is a crown of thorns. For in the words of the old Latin hymn Si vis vere gloriari,

Dost thou truly seek renown,

Christ His glory sharing?

Would’st thou win the heavenly crown,

Victor’s meed declaring? Tread the path the Saviour trod. Look upon the Crown of God, See what He is wearing.

THE SONS OF DIVINE PROVIDENCE (FOLLOWERS OF DON ORIONE)

DON LOUIS ORIONE (1872–1940), saluted at his death Father of the Poor by the late Pope Pius XII, lived literally the command of the Gospel “Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with thy whole heart, with thy whole soul and thy neighbour as thyself,” and he believed that Christian love could conquer the world.

It is only eighteen years since Don Orione died and yet his memory is as fresh as ever, and his Congregation, whose members are called the Sons of Divine Providence mentioned in the foregoing text, is scattered all over the world serving the human rejects.

The task of the Sons of Divine Providence in gathering the dregs of society is to invest them with the importance of souls, to re-fit them into society as useful members, and profitably so in the light of God’s economy.

The Sons of Divine Providence, priests and lay brothers, helped by a parallel family of women, are engaged in manifold activities: Schools, Orphanages, Boys” Towns, Parish Churches, Boys” Clubs, Technical Colleges, Day and Boarding Schools, Houses for Abandoned Children, for Cripples and War Wounded Boys, for Blind Children, for Mental Cases, for the Sick and Aged, Hostels for Workers. . . .

Their present work in Great Britain is to care for the Aged, for whom they have opened two houses, one of which is well established in Streatham and the other at Hampton Wick.

To enable the aged to spend their remaining days secure in the knowledge that they will be cared for to the end, houses for the Aged Sick must be built.

********

Handing On The Faith

BY REV. FR. T. WHITE

INDEX

When Our Lord told His apostles “Go teach all nations” it must have seemed a formidable assignment. “What can we twelve do?” could well have been their reaction. There they were surrounded by paganism, centred in the powerful Roman empire, and themselves belonging to a people who had largely rejected Christ and even brought about His crucifixion. Such a death added as well the stigma of a condemned criminal to their leader.

Humanly speaking, it was not only a formidable but an impossible assignment. Only the grace of God could make it possible, and only the grace of God could give the apostles the necessary strength and courage, and make their efforts fruitful. The result was that they did preach the Gospel at the cost of great suffering and adversity, knowing that their efforts were to be the instrument God would use for the conversion of others.

What they did we, as members of the same Church to which the Apostles belonged, can also do -according to our state in life, our sphere of influence, our capabilities. Those words of Christ “Go teach all nations” were also addressed to us.

Because of the Sacrament of Confirmation our souls are stamped with the character of a witness to Jesus Christ. What Pentecost was to the Apostles, Confirmation is to the individualCatholic. In ordinary life, a child’s main work is to grow and learn-it is the adult who is expected to hold responsibility, earn money to keep a family, take over the care of the home. Confirmation is the Sacrament of maturity in the supernatural life of grace-that life which was begun at Baptism is strengthened and complemented at Confirmation. At Confirmation we become adult Christians and as such we are, or should be, witnesses for Christ to others. In short, Confirmation stamps us as apostles. It gives us the grace to be apostolic. That means that in God’s plan every confirmed Catholic is supposed to be doing something about spreading the True Faith.

In Australia at present three-quarters of the people do not belong to the True Faith. More than half of them seldom or never go to any church at all. Recent extensive Gallup polls have shown that 61 % of Australians do not go to any church. Most Catholics are aware of this but comparatively few of them do anything about it. Why? Critics will say they have not enough zeal to make the effort.

I don’t think that is true. Far more often the reason is lack of “know how.”

Our Australian Catholics are outstanding in the Catholic world for their generosity towards the foreign Missions. They delight to read of the growth and development of the Missions in Africa and Asia. They are overjoyed when they see a new face at the altar-rails in their own parish church. This is a real Christian joy in the knowledge that someone else has received the priceless gift of the Faith.

I do not agree that our Catholics are wanting in zeal. But I am convinced that they need to learn the “know-how” of helping others to find the True Faith.

This little booklet gives seven practical suggestions which, if taken seriously by every sincere Catholic, will bring the priceless treasure of the True Faith every year to many thousands of those to whom religion means little or nothing today.

WAYS AND MEANS TO HELP A NON-CATHOLIC FRIEND

1. SAY A DAILY PRAYER FOR THE CONVERSION OF A NON-CATHOLIC FRIEND

Faith is a gift of God. No one can earn or merit this gift of faith, as St. Paul says in his letter to the Ephesians, 2, 8: “Yes, it was grace that saved you, with faith for its instrument; it did not come from yourselves, it was God’s gift, not fromany action of yours, or there would be room for pride.” Our Lord also expressed the same thought when He said: “Nobody can come to me without being attracted towards Me by the Father Who sent me.” (John 6, 44.)

Any ordinary man is capable of learning the fundamental truths of religion, of knowing that God exists and that He has given a revelation to man. But in order to perceive the vital force and the sheer reality of the truths God has revealed, in order to believe in them in such a way that they have aprofound influence on one’s life, a special help from God is required.

Hence the necessity of prayer for the gift of faith. Prayer is not just “the nice thing to do” or “the nice -sounding bit of advice to give.” Prayer is absolutely essential. Any priest who has had experience of convert work will tell you just how true it is. Often he has come across people who have no objection to Catholic teachings after they have been explained to them. But in their own words they “just can’t bring themselves to believe.”

Cardinal Newman sums it up as follows: “Faith is not a mere conviction in reason; it is a firm assent, it is a clear certainty, greater than any other certainty; and this is wrought in the mind by the grace of God, and by it alone. Here is the difference between other exercises of reason and arguments for the truth of religion. It requires no act of faith to assent to the truth that two and two make four; we cannot help assenting to it, and hence there is no merit in assenting to it. But there is merit in believing that the Church is from God; for, though there are abundant reasons to prove it to us, yet we can, without any absurdity, quarrel with the conclusion; we may complain that it is not clearer, we may suspend our assent, we may doubt about it, ifwe will; and grace alone can turn a bad will into a good one.” (Discourses to Mixed Congregations, on Faith and Doubt, No. 11.)

There should be no need to stress further the importance of prayer. We should pray daily for the gift of faith for others. Perhaps the following prayer will be helpful:

PRAYER FOR THE CONVERSION OF MY PARISH

Sacred Heart of Jesus, burning with love for men, grant that by my prayers, words and example, I may help to bring all men to know, love and serve You.

In Your love and mercy bestow the priceless gift of Faith on all those of my own parish who still remain outside the One True Church.

Holy Mary, Mother of God, teach me to be an apostle of your Son.

PRAYER AND ALSO WORK

St. Thomas More died for his faith during the Reformation in England. His biographies recall a motto which was the inspiration of his life. He wrote it on the walls of his prison cell while awaiting execution. It said: “The things we pray for, Lord, give us strength to work for.” St. Vincent de Paul expressed the same thought when he said, “We should pray as if everything depends on our prayers, and then work as if everything depends on our work.” These are simply expressions of the great truth that Our Lord works through the members of His Church, and, in His plan of Redemption, wants us to be instrumental in bringing Him into the lives of others.

2. OFFER TO TAKE A NON-CATHOLIC FRIEND ON A TOUR OF YOUR CHURCH

As you enter the church show him the Holy Water and bless yourself with it. Tell him that this water has been blessed by the priest, who has prayed for God’s blessing on those who use it. Water is a symbol of cleansing. Our use of it as we enter the church is an expression of our desire to be internally pure and clean in God’s House. Show your friend how to bless himself with the Holy Water. It also reminds the Catholic that he was Baptized in water and the Holy Spirit.

When you enter the church the altar and tabernacle should be the first to attract your friend’s attention. Tell him that we believe Christ is really present in the tabernacle. If he asks why you believe this you will be able to say a few words about the story of the Last Supper. Try not to say too much; just a few words about each thing, leaving him time to have a good look and ask questions. When you pass in front of the altar genuflect and tell your friend that you do this as an act of worship of God Who is really present there. Ask him if he would like to genuflect and show him how. Draw his attention to the sanctuary lamp and tell him that it is kept alight always while the consecrated Host is there. If for some reason the consecrated Host were taken away (e.g., while the church is being repaired) this lamp would be extinguished. The lamp is a token of homage to Our Lord, and when people see it alight they know that the consecrated Host is reserved in the tabernacle. The Veiling over the tabernacle indicates that Christ, our “Commander-inChief” is truly present in his “tent” (that’s what the word “tabernacle” means).

Why are there candles on the altar? They originated in the Catacombs simply to give light but are now used as a symbol of Christ Who is “the light of the world.” Usually two are lighted for Mass on ordinary week-days and six on Sundays and big feast days called Solemnities. Four are used on Feast-days.

The crucifix above the altar reminds us of the identity of the Mass and the sacrifice of Calvary. The crucifix reminds us too of Christ’s sufferings for us. You can fill the story of His sufferings and death in more details while showing your friend the Stations of the Cross. Take him from station to station as you tell him the story.

Show him the Statues. Tell him something about the saints they represent. This will give you an opportunity for a few words about the true meaning of devotion to Our Lady and the saints. The saints are our brothers and sisters in Christ and are now with God in heaven. Maybe there will be flowers or shrine candles in front of a statue. Catholics put flowers or candles before statues just as your non-Catholic friend would keep and show respect for a picture or photograph of a dear friend. The saints are our friends. We as Catholics like to remember the good lives they lived and to ask them to pray for us. (A book such as “The Externals of the Catholic Church” by Mgr. Sullivan will tell you a lot more about all these things but a few words will be sufficient for the purposes of helping your friend.)

Your friend will be particularly curious about the Confession Boxes. Show him inside one and tell him just how a Catholic goes to Confession. He may ask you why you go to Confession. You will be able to tell him that you go to Confession because you want to have your sins forgiven.

Invite your friend to join you for a short silent prayer before you leave or, if he prefers, just to sit and wait for a moment while you say a short prayer. Let your prayer be (e.g. a Hail Mary) for his conversion. As you leave, you may be able to get him some little pamphlet from the pamphlet rack. Assure him that he will be welcome to drop in for a quiet prayer any time. Then the time is ripe to suggest the next step. Tell him that he would be welcome to come to Mass with you if he would like to.

3. OFFER TO TAKE HIM TO MASS

Ask a non-Catholic friend if he would like to come to Mass with you some day. It will be necessary to assure him that he is quite welcome and that he will be quite free just to sit and watch and listen if he wishes. Nowadays many nonCatholics like to say that they are “going along to Mass just as observers.”

If he decides that he would like to go to Mass with you, arrange a time and place to meet him. He is going to be very shy about it and will imagine that everyone is looking at him, so stick close to him all the time. If it can be arranged, a week-day when everything is quieter would be better for a first attempt. However, this may often be impossible. Get him a copy of the A. . . . . booklet, “How to Follow the Mass,” in advance if you can. A Missal is a bit too complicated for a beginning. Assure him that he may just sit and watch right throughout if he wishes, but he will probably prefer to kneel and sit and stand as you do. Point out just the main parts. You will only confuse him if you try to be too detailed. Everything up to the Offertory is preparation for the real sacrifice. Then draw his attention to the Offertory, The Consecration, The Communion.

It is wise to remind him that he may not receive Holy Communion since he is not a Catholic. Assure him that he will be able to follow it a bit better each time he goes to Mass, and encourage him to read through his copy of “How to Follow the Mass” before he goes again. Later offer him some other pamphlet such as “What Is He Doing at the Altar” or “What theMass Means.”

He may wonder why the priest wears all “those elaborate robes.” One simple explanation is that the Mass is the most solemn occasion in all the world for Catholics. Naturally then the priest, who takes the leading part, gets specially dressed up for it. The vestments were originally robes worn by people for solemn occasions in the early centuries of Christianity. They have been retained with slight modification for the priest and his assistants at Mass.

He is almost sure to ask you why the priest says the prayers in Latin. There are some good reasons for having Latin. The main one is that it gives us a common language for the Catholic Church in the various countries of the world. Certainly it would be easier for a beginner if there were no Latin, but once we have made the effort to follow it with our Missals we will feel quite at home at Mass any place in the world.

“What is the little bell for at Mass?” Every non -Catholic wants to know this the first time he goes. It enables everyone, especially in a big crowded church, to follow the Mass with the priest more easily. In the earlier centuries of Christianity the big bells in the church were rung at the consecration. In this way the people of all that district who could not go to Mass were reminded to turn their thoughts to God at the moment of the consecration. Sometimes this is still done, but usually it is only “the little bell” that is used.

4. OFFER TO INTRODUCE YOUR NON-CATHOLIC FRIEND TO A PRIEST

A very good Catholic lady once said to me,”Father, I have a non-Catholic neighbour who seems a bit interested in our

Faith; I”d like you to meet him.” “Certainly,” I said, “you name the time and place.”

“Well, I thought it might be an idea to invite him to dinner one night if you could come too.” We made a night and I went along. The dinner would do justice to a king. I met her non-Catholic neighbour. We had a pleasant evening talking, mainly about photography, but it led to other meetings and more serious topics. That man is an exceptionally fine Catholic today.

It is not necessary, or even practical in most cases, to go to such extraordinary trouble to introduce a non-Catholic to a priest, but an introduction of some kind is often an important milestone in a nonCatholic’s search for religious truth. The fact of knowing a priest personally and feeling that he is someone who will be willing and able to give helpful advice is a big thing.

I remember another occasion when one of the Children of Mary in my parish rang the presbytery door quite unexpectedly and said, “Father, this is so and so,” introducing one of her non-Catholic girl friends. “She has never spoken to a priest; she would liketo meet you.” I had half an hour to spare so I talked to the young lady about her work and her home and her family. She had no particular questions and no intention whatever of being a Catholic, just wanted “to see what a priest was like.” I have no reason to believe that she even became a Catholic; but I happened to hear two years later that she did a great deal to stem the tide of her father’s anger when another member of the family married a Catholic girl in the Catholic Church.

All this is by way of example to show that it is a good thing to provide an opportunity for a non-Catholic to meet a priest whenever possible. A great many non-Catholics have never met a priest and would be quite frightened by the thought of doing so. Often their only contact with the Church is a lay Catholic whom they know socially or as a work partner or a neighbour. Some of them may want to see a priest for a particular reason; others, like the Child of Mary’s girl friend I mentioned, may be just curious “to see what a priest is like.” Whatever the reason, every Catholic should be ready and willing to arrange a meeting when he can.

Normally it would not be advisable to go to as much trouble as the good lady who put on a big dinner for us; every priest’s time is limited; he would not be able to attend such a meeting very often. On the other hand, it is wise whenever possible to make some sort of appointment with the priest in advance so that he will be ready and expecting you. It is not very wise just to bring your non-Catholic friend along to the presbytery at any old time. Father may be up to his eyes in half a dozen things, instructions, meetings, parish committees or such like. The non-Catholic will be disheartened if Father is not there, or is too busy to talk to him. So get it lined up in advance, and if your friend has some special query or problem that he is going to talk about let Father know so that he will be ready for it. Be sure to go along with him and introduce him. Don’t just tell him the appointment has been made because the most difficult thing for the non-Catholic will be that first meeting. He will need you right there with him.

5. OFFER TO TAKE HIM TO A DAY OF ENQUIRY

In many places in Australia the members of the Legion of Mary organize what they call Days of Enquiry for nonCatholics who wish to know more about the Catholic Faith. They are usually held on a Sunday morning and afternoon at a Convent or Monastery. A priest gives some talks on Catholic teaching and allows time for questions. He takes the nonCatholic on a conducted tour of the Chapel. Sometimes there is a Mass which is explained by one priest while being celebrated by another. There are priests and nuns and many members of the Legion of Mary present to talk to the nonCatholics and make them welcome. Everyone is entertained to meals.

The purpose of these Days of Enquiry is to give non-Catholics an opportunity to meet Catholics and get to know them, to realize that Catholics are genuinely anxious to let others know about their faith, and to share it. Non-Catholics who attend one of these Days of Enquiry go away feeling that they have seen something of the charity of Christ in the Catholics who made them welcome that day. They do not necessarily learn a great deal but that does not matter at this stage. The first thing is to help them to be friendly with Catholics and to see what kind of people Catholics are. A nonCatholic is not placing himself under an obligation of any kind by going along to one of these Days of Enquiry. It will be important to assure your friend of that. There is no charge whatever. He will be made very welcome. Most non-Catholics would be too shy to go on their own, but it is a matter of experience that there are many who are delighted to go if a Catholic friend invites them and goes along with them. The Catholic who takes along a non-Catholic will be made welcome for the whole day and will share in everything that goes on. By ringing the Legion of Mary headquarters in any city in Australia you will get complete details of dates and places and times of Days of Enquiry.

If you know a few days in advance that you will be going with a non-Catholic friend it would be helpful to let the Legion of Mary know: This gives them an idea of how many to expect. However, if you have no time to let them know, you will still be just as welcome.

Untold good for souls would be done if every Catholic made an effort to bring someone to one of these gatherings. It is something that any Catholic could do if he made the effort.

6. OFFER TO TAKE HIM TO A COURSE OF TALKS AT A PARISH ENQUIRY CLASS

There are Parish Enquiry Classes in at least a few parishes in each of the big cities in Australia. These classes are simply a series of well planned weekly talks given by the parish priest or his assistant on the teachings of the Catholic Church. The location and starting time of the talks and the subjects to be explained each week are published on printed programmes which are distributed to the Catholics in the parish. Sometimes they are advertised in the local paper. It will not require any very heroic effort to find out the location, time, etc., of the nearest Parish Enquiry Class to your home. We realize that there are at present far too few of these classes, but more about that later.

Once you know where there is a Parish Enquiry Class start looking around for some non-Catholic who would be prepared to attend the weekly talks with you. You must be prepared to go along with your non-Catholic friend. It is very little use telling him that the classes are on and that he will be welcome. He will be too shy to go on his own. You must take him along, get there a few minutes before starting time and introduce yourself and your friend to the priest who is going to give the talks.

You will have to make it very clear to any non-Catholic that these classes are not just for people who have made up their minds to become Catholics. No one is going to assume that he intends to be a Catholic just because he attends the talks. He is there because he wants to learn the truth about the Catholic Church. He is not putting himself under any obligation whatever: Whether he decides later to become a Catholic or not is a matter between himself and God. No one is going to put any pressure at all on him. That seems so obvious to you that you may wonder why there is any need even to mention it. We know from hundreds of cases that many non-Catholics believe that they will be forced into the Catholic Church whether they like it or not “if the priest once gets his hands on you.” A real effort must be made to dispel this strange misunderstanding. Lay Catholics can do it even better than priests because non-Catholics will often believe a lay person whom they know as a friend when they would not trust the priest of whom they are so suspicious.

It is good to have one of the printed programmes when inviting a friend to the talks. Give it to him personally with a few words of explanation. Come with him to the class every week. He will probably ask you many questions he is too shy to ask the priest. Ifyou don’t know the answers ask his questions for him next week. You will learn a lot yourself. It is a remarkable thing that the more you try to help your friend the more you will help yourself too. As the weekly talks progress the non-Catholics will want someone to show them around the church, or take them to Mass. You will be an obvious choice as a guide and helper for the friend you have brought this far. Later, with God’s grace, he may express a wish to become a Catholic. He will want you to be his god-parent.

We have said that we feel Enquiry Classes are far too few. This is very true. However, it is encouraging to see that they are on the increase. Good Catholic lay people can do more than they think to multiply them. Nearly every priest realizes the great value of such classes in his work for souls but the majority of priests are so overwhelmed with work that they never get around to the practicalities of organizing them. “Will anyone come to them?” they wonder. “Will my parishioners make an effort to bring non-Catholics along? Maybe after I have spent a lot of time preparing for it no one will turn up. What will I do with the ones who miss out on some of the talks? How do I fit in someone who wants to start half way through? How many talks will I put into the whole series? How can I best divide the whole of Catholic teachings into a series of simple talks? Should I follow the Catechism or give each one a copy of some book? What is the most suitable book? etc etc.,.” With all these doubts and queries many priests never manage to get their Enquiry Class started although they would love to have a good Enquiry Class in the parish. Such a priest will welcome a practical offer of help from a good parishioner. The Australian . . . Inc. has a comprehensive set of pamphlets on the faith for use in the classes.

Some good Catholic parishioners should attend the talks to act as hosts and hostesses to the non-Catholics. This leaves the priest more free to concentrate on giving the talks. People who miss a talk can get a printed summary of it the next week and talk about it with one of the hosts or hostesses.

In addition to this ready-to-use programme of talks the busy priest will need your help as a good parishioner to prepare some suitable meeting room or small hall for the classes. The starting point is to fix a date for the first talk. Father will remind the parishioners about it every Sunday for the previous five or six Sundays. The handbook will give him a list to remind him of what to say each Sunday. Once all the Catholics of the parish know about the time and place of the first talk they will be given printed copies of the programme and will begin inviting their non-Catholic friends. The members of the Legion of Mary will take them on visitation and all the members of the sodalities will make a special effort to find someone who is prepared to come. Young people who have non-Catholic boy-friends or girl-friends will invite them to come and listen. It has been our experience that after the second or third series of talks the whole parish becomes much more interested in conversion work, and the annual number of converts in the parish increases very considerably.

The Class will be of very special value to the parishioners because now they will have something definite to which they can invite their nonCatholic friends without making any extra demands on Father’s time. Father himself will find that he has much more time to spare for his many other duties because now he has far less private instruction to do even though he is baptizing many more converts each year. Of course each one who decides to become a Catholic will need at least a couple of private talks with him before the day for baptism is arranged, but most of the necessary instruction will have been already done in the Class.

Any good Catholic who feels that he ought to be doing more to share his faith with others should think these points over carefully and talk about them with one of the priests in his parish.

7. TELL NON-CATHOLIC FRIENDS ABOUT THE . . . PAMPHLETS

There is no doubt that you will meet non-Catholics who are a bit interested in the Catholic faith but, for one reason or another are not willing to meet a priest personally, either at a presbytery or a Day of Enquiry, or in a Parish Enquiry Class. Many years ago the late Archbishop Mannix set up the Australian . . . to give Catholics and nonCatholics information on various aspects of the faith.

Be sure you know what Catholic information is available and be always ready to talk about it when an opportunity arises. Anywhere people congregate religious topics sooner or later come up for discussion. In a country like Australia, where three out of every four people are non-Catholics, you are sure to find yourself in one of these discussions sooner or later. Those who know that you are a Catholic will ask you questions. It is quite likely that you will not be able to give a short simple answer on the spur of the moment. By all means know as much as you can about your religion and answer questions whenever you can. But there are a lot of questions to which no one can give a short simple answer. Often the answer depends on a complexity of basic principles which the questioner does not understand and which cannot possibly be explained in a few minutes.

This, however, is no reason for trying to sidestep the whole issue. Every Catholic can at least say “Would you like me to take you to someone who will go into it for you?” or “I know where you can write for pamphlets which will answer that quite fully for you.”

Remember first of all what not to do. Don’t refuse to discuss religion. Dozens of sincere non -Catholics have written to us to ask what is the reason why Catholics so often refuse to talk about their religion. I remember one good man who put it this way: “Are Catholics forbidden to talk about their religion, I worked with Catholics for five years” he said, “and often tried to ask them the questions you have answered for me, but they always changed the subject and talked about football.” I am not suggesting that all Catholics do that but it is a pity that any Catholic does it.

It is equally important not to try to bluff your way out of a question you cannot answer. People do that because they are too proud to admit that they do not know the answer. The average person can easily see through the evasion and bluff and is not at all impressed. It is far better to be truly humble about it and admit the limits of your knowledge. Then show a genuine readiness to do what you can to find an answer for the questioner. If he is not willing to meet a priest he may welcome some information from ACTS pamphlets.

You will be surer of your ground if you have one of the pamphlets explaining the Catholic Faith to offer him. You may get copies of the pamphlets from The Australian. . . . (The address is on the inside front cover of this pamphlet)

GENERAL SUGGESTIONS FOR APPROACHING NON-CATHOLICS

The only way to learn to do a job is to start doing it. That is true of the task of the apostle. Too often we hear the cry “Why doesn’t someone give us a lead” or “Tell me what I can do to convert Australia and I am ready to do it.” The only real way to become an apostle is to start being an apostle in one’s own immediate circle. Gather all the hints, the suggestions and the advice of others that you can, by all means, but find your own method. Fit yourself into the task and discover for yourselves what is the best approach you can make, taking into consideration your own temperament and that of your friends.

Suppose you were told by an unquestioned authority that you must convert five people within the next twelve months. How would you go about it? A wise man once said that, when faced with a problem, we should first divide it into its component parts. Let us try it out on this one:

WHO?

Your field for possible converts are the non-Catholics you know.

Ask yourself how many of them are likely to be interested. Many of them are clearly indifferent. A few, a very few, may even be hostile. Very well, your apostolate to those two groups will be that of example and prayer. You have narrowed the field down now to those whom you judge likely to be interested. Take as a principle that you will give everyone a chance to be interested and that you will give everyone who is interested a chance to know more.

Recently a good Catholic said: “In all the years I have been a Catholi c I never fully realized my duty to spread the Faith. I work with four non-Catholics. I decided to tell them all about our Parish Enquiry Class. One of them, I thought, was completely indifferent. But when I talked to them, it was this one who came.”

HOW?

How can you interest people in the Faith? Here again you must learn to do the job in your own way. Ask the converts whom you know personally what first interested them in the Faith. Ask them what especially attracted them. Ask what were their main difficulties in accepting the Faith. It may help you to read what converts have written, for example, the three books of the series “The Road to Damascus,” in which a number of well-known converts have told the story of their conversion. “This City of Peace” gives a number of conversion stories by Australian converts.

Now, consider the non-Catholics you know. Ask yourself where they are most likely to feel the need of the helps which the Catholic Faith can give. They do feel the need even if they do not realize it. For example, we find non-Catholics listen with the closest attention to the Catholic teaching on marriage and the Family. True, they find many difficulties here. But they also find a powerful attraction in the Catholic teaching on the grace of the Sacrament-the idea of God as a continuing partner of the marriage. The point is that every married couple without exception, feels the need of something more than a mere civil contract to help them to make a success of their married life. The Catholic Church is alone, now, in giving definite and unwavering teaching on this matter, and the Catholic Church is alone in assuring them, incessantly, of the help of God.

Think over your conversations with non-Catholic friends. Where have they shown themselves to feel a need? For one it is Marriage, another Charity, another the Social question, another the problem of sickness or death. Now gather together your conclusions. You have decided on the people you are going to approach. You have formed some idea of the points which are most likely to interest them. So we come to Part Three.

WHEN?

The difficulty most people feel is this. How can I mention the Catholic Faith without seeming to be “dragging it in” or “thrusting it down people’s throats?” Now, there is a real danger here which must not be overlooked. G. K. Chesterton said that when he was approaching the Faith, every setback was caused by some over-enthusiastic Catholic who tried to push him forward. So, don’t push. But this does not mean do nothing. It means speak when it is tactful to speak.

Let us have an obvious example. Somebody is in trouble. There is sickness in the family or someone has died. Tell them you will say a prayer for them. Tell them that you will say a prayer for the person who has died. This will never be resented. On the contrary it is just at such moments that people are most appreciative of sympathy. Prayer for the dead especially is something which only the Church has. Here again a need is given fulfilment by the Faith. Do not be afraid of using the name of God in your conversation.

Speak as a Catholic, simply, in a quite matter of fact manner and with good humour. Sometimes people say: “You know, Father, I was working with him for ten years and he never knew I was a Catholic until one day . . .” Surely there is something missing here. Surely, in ten years, a conversation must have touched on some subject on which a Catholic could speak as a Catholic.

There are two indispensable conditions in every apostolate. You must show what the Faith means in your life and you must pray. Most people will judge the Catholic Faith by what they see of it in your life. It may be unfair, but it is natural and, after all, Our Lord says: “By their fruits you shall know them.” So, first of all, be a good Catholic.

Secondly pray. Pray every day for the conversion of your parish. Pray for the conversion of individuals known to you. Say the Family Rosary. Get up and go to morning Mass. Pray for opportunities to be an apostle and God will provide them in abundance.

Nihil Obstat :

BERNARD O”CONNOR, Diocesan Censor.

Imprimatur:

@ JUSTIN D. SIMONDS, Archiepiscopus Melburnensis 31st December, 1963

********

Happiness In The Home

BY THE VERY REV. DAVID BARRY P.P. , S.T.L

INDEX

CHAPTER I

WHAT IS DOMESTIC HAPPINESS?

THE CATECHISM tells us that many a marriage proves unhappy because the husband and wife enter into it from unworthy motives and with guilty consciences. I have always thought that it would be well to add to this answer another reason that is often at the root of domestic discord or unhappiness, namely, that the husband and wife do not make sufficient allowance for the faults and imperfections of each other.

Furthermore, family happiness, as well as the happiness of the individual, is sometimes sacrificed or not appreciated, for the reason that people do not realise what are the elements or what is the source of true happiness. Happiness, here or hereafter is what everyone is looking for and many fail to attain it; because they mistake the goal they are aiming at or miss the way to it.

Thus, the head of the family, even when active and anxious to secure the well-being, in essential matters, of those dependent on him, occasionally neglects the things that, though little in themselves, are vital to happiness as distinct from a kind of passive content, the outcome of a desire to make the best of things. A bread-winner will toil all day to secure good support and education for his children; still, when he comes home at night the stiffness or severity of his attitude may freeze the affection of his children or, at any rate, suppress such evidence of it as would help to promote cheerfulness and diffuse happiness all round.

Happiness, like perfection, may be said largely to consist in trifles, and yet happiness, any more than perfection, is no trifle. It is a pity that those who are irreproachable, as far as the main virtues of domestic life are concerned, so often, through thoughtlessness, fail in the petty ones. In other words, those who supply the power to work the household machinery sometimes by an unfortunate attitude in small things throw grit into it, when they might just as easily smooth and ease its motion with the oil of affability and a sweet or accommodating temper.

Well, the first false notion that it is necessary to remove is that there is no possibility of having true happiness in a household unless it is plentifully or adequately endowed withthis world’s goods. In theory almost everyone would be prepared to admit that comfortable circumstances do not always bring true happiness and that they are not necessary for it. But as in so many other cases, practice is here very often little guided by theory. For many who know in their hearts that happiness of any degree or kind does not consist in wealth, act and order their lives as if a competence or a superfluity were the one and only road to personal or family happiness. And it is no wonder that such persons, if they succeed in providing liberally for the needs of their dependents, think that they have amply discharged their duty in their regard.

That is to say, they think that a money contribution is enough to make towards domestic happiness, and that it would be unreasonable to ask them for any personal service in addition. The inordinate pursuit of wealth has dried up the springs of their own affections; and, judging others by themselves, they believe that their hearts and minds are so shallow and impoverished that money will fully satisfy them.

Whereas those who have not succeeded in raising the family fortunes out of the coil of difficulties, realising their failure in this respect, often make a fairly happy home by the geniality and kindness of their manner, which are taken by some as a more striking or convincing proof of affection than the bestowal of very substantial advantages. It is the same with the world at large; a pleasant address will sometimes carry one farther than a heart of gold concealed by a rude and unprepossessing demeanour. Indeed, the most beautiful and engaging traits of human character are evidenced and get scope in the sacrifices that fathers and mothers in poor circumstances often make for their children.

In the second place, it is to be noted that happiness does not consist in the fact that illness or delicacy is a stranger to the family circle. Good health is a great blessing from Almighty God; but ill-health, made an occasion of Christian patience and resignation, is a still greater blessing. Illness or delicacy borne with the conviction that whom the Lord loves He chastises is a great grace for the individual visited with it, and will take him up many a rung of the heavenly ladder.

Moreover, nothing is better calculated to evoke exquisite and refined feelings of affection and sympathy from the rest of the family than to see one of their number bearing his suffering in patience, and perhaps making light of them, in order to save them pain. Sickness is robbed of its sting and even the prospect of death of its venom, by the devoted care and forgetfulness of self shown towards an invalid by the female members of the family, as well as by the less delicate and refined, though no less deep and keen, affection of its male members. An invalid in a house-even a fractious one- is often a kind of guardian angel keeping the members of the family together, inducing them to work for the common good, and acting as a focus for their thoughts and affections.

In the third place, it may be well to emphasise the truth that domestic happiness is quite separable from and independent of popularity or social position. Some people cannot see this, and consider that the height of happiness for themselves and for their families is conditional on social success or advancement. They think, unless they are in the public eye, and play their part on the public stage before an audience-great or small-that they can have no satisfaction or contentment with their lot.

This very often explains the heart-breaking efforts to get public positions to which no emolument is attached. An undignified and mean scramble for salaried posts can be very easily explained by the solid advantages attaching to them. But as for others, the craze for vulgar display or ostentation is responsible for the fevered pursuit of them. It is true, though, that the individual concerned do not always covet or court public attention or appreciation for themselves; because they simply wish that the sun of public notice and favour would be reflected from themselves on their families.

Now happiness, whether for an individual or for his family, based on being in the limelight is very fleeting or insecure and unsubstantial. The more self-sufficing a family is, the easier it is for them to retain or secure happiness. And the bigger the circle from which they draw the materials of their happiness, the more likely are their lines of communication to be interrupted.

So that happiness dependent on the verdict of the public at large or of one’s neighbours is purely superficial having no roots but in their fickle favour. Whereas, on the contrary, it is by an ordinance of Almighty God Himself that the members of a family are required to contribute to one another’s enjoyment. A person can get deeper and calmer pleasure and contentment in the hearts of his own family than in either the tepid or the boisterous embraces of a public body or a public meeting.

And it often happens that the fewer ties a man has with outsiders the stronger and the closer are the ties that bind him to his own. For although goodness and love are not self-centred, but naturally spread their fragrant odour and gracious influence in all directions, still, there is a real danger that one who is over-anxious to shower his care and attentions on the public, may not be able to concentrate enough of them on those who have the first claim to them.

It is not then either riches, or health or popularity that makes a family truly happy. A life full of troubles and disappointments may, nevertheless, be a signally happy one for a family, if it brings them nearer to God, and strengthens and sanctifies the bonds that unite them; just as there is generally, more real happiness for the individual in some humble capacity than is got from the glittering prizes of life.

Coming now to the question of what domestic happiness does consist in, I think it is fair to say that, though it is not identical with peace, peace is the foundation of it, and that there can be no genuine happiness without peace. For the fruit of happiness, like the fruit of justice, is sown in peace.

CHAPTER II

PEACE AND CONTENTMENT IN THE HOME

“WITH three things my spirit is pleased, which are approved before God and men The concord of brethren, and the love of neighbours, and man and wife that agree together” (Ecclesiasticus xxv,1,2). Looking at the matter from a merely temporal or worldly point of view, there are few greater blessings that God can confer on us than peace.

Now if peace in the human heart be real, and not a mere counterfeit, it must rest on one’s consciousness of being in the grace and favour of God. Accordingly, in its character of a composite benefit, covering the two aspects-spiritual and temporal-of our lives, we are naturally prepared to find that peace occupies a foremost place in the gifts which we are expected by God and the Church to pray for and secure for ourselves. Nor are we mistaken.

For on the first Christmas morning the primary significance of Our Blessed Lord’s coming, namely, to give glory to God was closely linked by the angels with its significance as a foreshadowing and introducing a reign of peace to men. “Glory to God in the highest; and on earth peace to men of good will.” And this benefit from Christ’s coming is natural for “God is not the God of dissension but of peace,” and His peace passes all understanding. And peace was Our Lord’s Easter gift to His disciples on the evening of His Resurrection.

In the Canon of the Mass -the most solemn part of it-peace is asked for repeatedly in so many words. Again, in the Missal a special Mass is appointed in order that we may beg peace the more effectually from Almighty God; and this Mass is one of three ordered to be said during the great devotion to the Blessed Sacrament of the Forty Hours” Adoration.

Finally, when our dear ones leave us, one of the prayers put into our mouths by the Church for them is that they may rest in peace.” The peace of God is over all the face of the earth”; and if our deceased friends are in peace, it is because they are happy in the enjoyment of God. Better is a dry morsel with joy, than a house full of victims with strife.”

Now it is only the peace of Christ -that peace which the world cannot give-that can bestow either true rejoicing in the hearts of individuals or true happiness in the home to which they belong. One who knows that he is in the state of sin and an enemy of God can have no peace or ease of mind but what is forced and fictitious. The wicked man flees when no man pursues. And any cheerfulness he affects is hollow and insincere, merely a thin covering over the fear of God’s judgment-perhaps to come soon and sudden.

So the well-meant efforts of a person conscious of a grievous sin to promote happiness in the family circle, cannot be as hearty or as sustained as if the joy and cheerfulness that come from the peace of Christ were in his heart.

The Pope in proclaiming the Jubilee of 1933–34declared that the aim of it was the peace of souls, “but with that peace one can also hope for peace in every field.”

Besides sin, there are other enemies of domestic peace in the shape of a short or morose temper, a sharp unguarded tongue, and an inclination to form too high a standard for others and to expect too much from them. How to attack and overcome these enemies of peace and happiness we shall see in later chapters.

But although peace is the root of domestic happiness, taken by itself apart from the fruit and flowers that it tends to produce, it is not identical with happiness. To attain this we must approach still more closely to the pattern laid down for us by the Holy Family at Nazareth. For the crown of peace is unity, harmony and cheerfulness. The family should dwell together not merely in peace but in unity. It was unity and not merely peace that was characteristic of the home at Nazareth. And it was not only peace, but unity, that Our Blessed Lord wished to mark the intercourse of His followers: “Now I beseech you, brethren, by the Name of Our Lord Jesus Christ, that . . . you be perfect in the same mind, and in the same judgment.”

CHAPTER III

UNITY AND HARMONY IN THE HOME

NOW THE unity that should distinguish a Christian family is unity both of mind and of heart in the members of it. And if they have this, their happiness is in substance independent of external conditions and circumstances, and is comparatively little at the mercy of these or of what the world outside the home says, or does, or thinks.

So far as having unity of heart is concerned, this simply means that the natural love existing between those who compose the family is to be regulated, purified and ennobled by the love of God. Consequently, unity in the matter of affection does not mean, in the dealings of the father or mother with the children, that all their whims and vagaries will be gratified. It does not mean overlooking their faults or indulging their wayward impulses. Nor does it mean providing them with what may satisfy or please them for the moment, irrespective of whether this will be for their advantage in the long run.

On the contrary, the bonds of enlightened Christian affection constrain parents to take long views in regard to the prospects of their children. They must even at the cost of a temporary interruption of the smooth current of domestic joy and harmony, train them in the virtues, supernatural and natural that will make them holy, and as successful as may be God’s Will in the walk of life to which He calls them. In other words, the unity that ought to permeate the family relations, and enable them to bear stress and strain, must not be a matter of vague sentiment, or the unruly issue of passion. It must be guided by reason and faith, and inspired by natural love and charity.

There must be unity of mind and judgment in the Christian family. From this it follows at once and as a minimum that all its members must have the same spiritual outlook. Accordingly there is not much prospect of peace or happiness in a mixed marriage. Apart altogether from the danger of the Catholic becoming a pervert, or at any rate becoming cold or indifferent; and, apart from the difficulties so likely to arise about the training of the children, there can be no happiness, for there can be no unity or sympathy or harmony between the couple, when the point of view they take on the subject of religion, the most important of all matters, is different.

Instead of there being any real concord or any genuine family spirit, the most that can be expected is a sort of neutrality, and a state of constant watchfulness on the part of the pair lest either may by word or act wound the deepest and tenderest sensibilities of the other. No real happiness can be built on such an artificial and insecure foundation.

In temporal matters of importance to the family the more the parents and children share the same viewpoint, the less heat and friction are generated when their likes and dislikes are brought into contact or conflict.

On the other hand, the policy of having a family with a dead level of views and sympathies is thoroughly unsound, and may result in practice in producing a dead level of inferiority. In some households a very determined, though wellmeant, attempt is made to silence if not suppress, the characteristic view of individuals, so that the members, though many, have only one mind, that of the predominant partner. If the theory of unity is carried too far in this way, it is fatal not only to originality but to all genuine harmony or happiness.

In matters of worldly importance that concern the family as a whole, when all reasonable views are heard and weighed; if there is a divergence between them, and no accommodation is possible it is the voice of the husband or father that must prevail: because the husband is the head of the wife, as Christ is head of the Church. And his decision must be accepted, not only in a spirit of sullen submission, but with cheerfulness and readiness, as the voice of God’s representative. The maxim of St. Augustine is a good working one to guide the making of domestic plans, and the conduct of domestic discussions:”In things that are necessary-unity; in things that are doubtful-freedom: in all things-love.”

There is one matter especially which is of great consequence to the children, and in which it might happen that parents would go beyond the limits of their rights or duties in an attempt to mould with a somewhat rough or arbitrary or cunning hand the dispositions or intentions of their children, according to a pattern approved by themselves. This matter is the vocation or calling in life that a child is to follow. Any intrusion of authority here or any high-handed methods are likely to be not only destructive of peace and unity in the home, but they may be ruinous to the child’s future happiness, and a serious handicap to him in working out his salvation.

According to the last Synod of Maynooth, “while parents should be consulted about the marriages of their children, neither parents nor family combines should be allowed to defeat the natural and reasonable rights of the young.”

1n discussions on the future of their children the role of a parent is that of a prudent conscientious adviser and helper, according to his lights and capacity. To act the part of a master, not to say a tyrant, is a complete misuse of parental power, and a usurpation of authority in a domain where Almighty God has allowed liberty. And in this matter constant nagging and importunity to stimulate or stifle the likes or dislikes of a son or daughter are just as bad as violent overbearing measures that can be brought into play only occasionally.

When the question of the vote for women was a live issue, one of the objections made to giving it, was .that in casting it, or in taking part in the activities usually connected with casting it, they would neglect their household work and duties. It used to be pointed out also that, if a husband and wife took different or opposing sides in local or national politics, they would bring their differences in the hustings or in the political arena into the family circle, to the prejudice of harmony and happiness there. However, at any rate in our own country, neither of these dismal forecasts has been realised. For the political emancipation of Irish women has not made them forget the warning of St. Paul thatthey ought “to be discreet, chaste, sober, having a care of the house, gentle, obedient to their husband, that the word of God be not blasphemed.”

If housewives try to imitate even afar off the “valiant” woman of Scripture, they will not have much time to devote to external occupations; but there is no doubt that they will do a great deal to secure unity and harmony in their homes. “Who shall find a valiant woman? Far and from the uttermost coasts is the price of her. The heart of her husband trusteth in her, and he shall have no need of spoils. She will render him good and not evil, all the days of her life.

She hath sought wool and flax, and hath wrought by the counsel of her hands. She is like the merchant’s ship, she bringeth her bread from afar. And she hath risen in the night, and given a prey to her household, and victuals to her maidens. She hath considered a field, and bought it: with the fruit of her hands she hath planted a vineyard . . . She hath tasted and seen that her traffic is good: her lamp shall not be put out in the night. She hath put out her hand to strong things, and her fingers have taken hold of the spindle. She hath opened her hand to the needy, and stretched out her hands to the poor. She shall not fear for her house in the cold of snow: for all her domestics are clothed with double garments . . . Her husband is honourable in the gates, when he sitteth among the senators of the land . . . Strength and beauty are her clothing, and she shall laugh in the latter day” (Proverbs xxxi, 10–25).CHAPTER IV

SOME HINDRANCES TO HAPPINESS

ALTHOUGH MAN is intended by Nature for society, some people are very far from being social or sociable in their habits or dispositions. This defect, next to the commission of a gross or habitual sin such as drunkenness, tends to make a person rather a misfit for domestic life, and requires constant watchfulness on his part if his uncongenial temper is not to cloud the brightness and cheerfulness of the home.

An over-reserved or a morose disposition is sometimes the result of sheer selfishness. The person afflicted with it wants to go his own way and to keep absorbed in what concerns himself; and in the process he is indifferent to the pain or distress his coldness or selfishness may cause to others. According to the practice if not the theory, of such people everyone is for himself, and no one is his brother’s keeper. And any hint to the contrary is met with a surly answer, if it is met with one at all.

In the ease of others, their unsociable disposition or manner is not the rank growth of selfishness, but is simply due to the fact that they do not see or realise the rights of those with whom they come into contact. They take for granted that their view-point is shared by others, and that what they like, or what they think is good for themselves, is for the general good. They would not wilfully hurt the feelings of the members of their families; but they forget that these probably have personal tastes and needs quite different from their own.

People with such a character -natural or acquired-that they do not recognise or allow for the independent personality of those they meet, are not likely to be a great success when they play the lone hand. But unless and until they correct this very unwelcome trait of character, they are quite out of place as heads or responsible members of a family. A somewhat similar result may be traced to fussiness or undue solicitude on the part of a husband or a wife to save the other partner from business or domestic worries. The husband or the wife sometimes takes on almost the entire management of both the internal and external affairs of the family. Controlling the detailed working of the whole menage in this way- however good the motive may be-reduces the standing of the other person to a cipher, or a rubber stamp, as the phrase is at present. If one of a couple is relieved of all trouble and responsibility, he or she is by that very fact robbed of independence, and deprived of a powerful incentive to promote the “well-being of the family.

Even apart from a more or less sour or sullen demeanour, if one member of a household assumes habitually an attitude of gloom or depression, this tends to chill and damp down the enthusiasm of the others for the common good or common happiness. Whereas the seeds of affection, sociability and happiness are likely to develop rapidly in a sunny atmosphere.

A short and peevish or even a touchy temper is also a great blemish of character, particularly from a community point of view. It not only upsets the person’s own peace of mind and equilibrium of judgment, but it upsets the household as often as it is given vent and even oftener; for one can never he sure that it will not flare up for little or no cause. Exhibitions of such a temper detract from or completely neutralize a great deal of kindness or benevolence in the minds of those who have seen them or suffered from them. If a person could confine the seething or conflagration of ill temper to his own breast, it would injure himself alone. But an ill-regulated tongue often goes with an ill-regulated temper. And many a word, the sudden and unexpected outcome of bad temper, rankles in the mind of the person to whom it is addressed, and sows there the bitter seeds of hatred or hostility. Bad tempers act on each other like acid on acid. And anger often arises in one person responsive to anger in another like one beast calling defiance to another.

The incompatibility of character that sometimes exists between people who marry is so great that they are kindred spirits, only in as far as each of them is cranky and angular in disposition. However, none of these failings or defects that I have outlined is insuperable, or unlikely to yield to treatment. For with a good will and the grace of God the most unpromising material can be moulded into a temperament admirably adapted to forward domestic welfare and domestic happiness. Some of the means towards this end I propose to enumerate in the two following chapters.

CHAPTER V

SUPERNATURAL HELPS

The SUPERNATURAL HELPS to enable husband and wife to regulate their mutual relations, and their relations with their children, that are most neglected are, I think, the actual graces issuing from the Sacrament of Matrimony. So I may call attention to these in, the first place.

All Catholics, when they are being married, know that they receive a Sacrament on that occasion. Many, too, realise as well as know that it then gives them an increase of sanctifying grace. But there are many who do not realise, though, no doubt, they have a vague theoretical knowledge of this, that its effects are not confined to the day of the marriage; and that it gives them actual graces calculated to help them every day and hour while the marriage state lasts.

These graces assist the pair, in spite of trials and difficulties, to establish and maintain the status of husband and wife, respectively, as the law of reason and the law of God requires. They also guide their relations towards any children God may have blest them with, and help them to bring up these in trust for Almighty God and as dutiful children of His. These graces not merely enable the couple to bear the worries and disappointments incident to married life with patience, good will and perhaps, good humour. They actually remove as well or lessen the obstacles in the path they have to tread together, by giving the husband light to see his own failings, and strength to overcome them, and by giving the wife light and strength to see and correct hers.

But the actual graces in question accruing in profusion all during life from the Sacrament do not come of themselves, and uninvited, to smooth away the troubles of the married state. In this department of the Christian life, as in every other people who wish to have graces to avoid evil and do good must ask for them. And this is the least we may do, seeing that Our Blessed Lord suffered and died to merit these graces for us. Prayers directed to tap the reservoirs of Sacramental grace have a twofold efficacy; because they not only obtain grace from this source, but they also open up other channels of grace from the mere fact of being prayers of petition acceptable to Almighty God.

It goes without saying that the frequent reception of Holy Communion and Penance, so necessary for personal sanctity, is a great aid in leading a good happy family life. For, as we have seen already, sin and genuine happiness cannot coexist. Moreover, the greater degree of personal sanctity reached by the individual members of the family, the greater will be their charity in thought, word and deed. And the more charitable they are, the more ready will each be to help the others and to sacrifice himself for them, at least to the extent of shedding the corners and angularities of his own character, and to the extent of bearing cheerfully “with their crotchets and singularities. “Charity is patient, is kind. . . . . . beareth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things.”

Finally, I wish to emphasise imitation of, and devotion to, the Holy Family as a great supernatural aid to family bliss, and to family success from the only point of view that matters in the long run.

The husband or father, then, ought to try to copy the sanctity of St. Joseph. We are told in Holy Scripture that St. Joseph was a “just man.” Well, the head of the household ought to be just and fair to everyone, and especially to his own, in thought, word and deed. He should also endeavour to possess himself of the spirit of industry and zeal for work evidenced to thelife of Our Blessed Lord’s foster-father. The slight or slur attaching to labour and toil as the fruit of Adam’s disobedience was removed by St. Joseph. The fact that Our Blessed Lord Himself was supported by his work dignifies and ennobles labour, and ought to be an incentive to every head of a family to work for those dependent on him. And he should endeavour worthily to represent the authority and the interests of Almighty God in the home.

The wife or mother must walk as far as she can in the footsteps of Our Blessed Lady, try to copy her close and constant union with God-her inner life of prayer-and to practise, in addition, the domestic virtues that were the ornaments of her external life.

Our Blessed Lady filled in a pre-eminent degree the roles of Mary and Martha, the sisters of Lazarus, and the friends of the Holy Family. For she never suffered her life of uninterrupted communion with God to interfere with the discharge of her domestic duties. “She hath looked well to the paths of her house, and hath not eaten her bread idle.” So the wife or mother in a Christian home ought to excel in the domestic arts; but she must not allow her devotion to them to stand in the way of the service she owes to Almighty God, or prevent her from living her life close toHim. “Favour is deceitful, and beauty is vain: the woman that feareth the Lord she shall be praised.” No matter how secular or menial her work may be in itself, she can make it a rung in the ladder of perfection by keeping herself always in the presence of God, and by offering up in His honour whatever she is doing. “Whether you eat or drink, or whatever else you do, do all for the glory of God.”

The children, in order to contribute their own share to the happiness of the home, must imitate the obedience of the Divine Child; and, like Him, as they grow in age, they ought to grow in wisdom and grace before God and men. “Honour thy father and thy mother, that thou mayest be longlived upon the land which the Lord thy God will give thee.” Wayward children are as great a cross to their parents as dutiful biddable ones are a blessing.

Moreover, it is not only the members of a family in their individual capacities that should try to imitate the members of the Holy Family. Each family as a unit or a body must be devout to them, and put itself under their protection. There ought to be pictures of the Sacred Heart and of the Holy Family in all houses; the Rosary should be said before them every night; and each member of the household should make it a point of honour to attend, while the junior members ought to be called to a strict account if they absent themselves without cause. There can be no blessing or true happiness in a Catholic family where the Rosary is habitually neglected. For this is simply to neglect or ignore the patronage and protection of the Holy Family.

Furthermore, saying the Rosary at a fixed hour has the secondary advantage of bringing all under the domestic roof at a reasonable hour and exposes the conduct of those who may be unwarrantably absent to wholesome comment, or wellmerited correction.

Our Irish families by some attraction or, rather, by some gift of God’s grace, have found in the recitation of the holy Rosary, as family prayer, something congenial to all their religious thoughts and feelings. This is doubtless one of the reasons why they are living centres of religion and morality, and why we may hope that they will always in the future be true to this high character.

CHAPTER VI

SOME NATURAL HELPS

A NATURAL AID TO PEACE, contentment and happiness that a Catholic husband and wife have is the knowledge that the bond between them will endure till death. If one of them is convinced that he or she has made a mistake and has met an uncongenial partner, the knowledge that there is no way out of the distasteful position is naturally an encouragement to hope and strive to accommodate himself or herself to it, and to make the best of things.

Whereas in other communions that allow divorce on more or less easy terms, people who think that their choice has been an unhappy one may be tempted to make mountains out of molehills, in order to have an excuse for availing of the loophole of escape from a tie that is irksome or trying, if not galling.

With Catholics, on the other hand, common sense, not to speak of Christian charity and forbearance, brings home the lesson that what cannot be cured must be endured, that there is matter for consolation in the fact that fruition seldom realises anticipation, and that the world of realities is very different from the world of ideals or romance.

Experience, too, comes to the relief of those who have their disappointments in the married state; because it shows that trials endured at the hands of the other partner are big or small or quite insignificant in proportion as one is prepared to scrutinise them closely, to be more or less indifferent to them, or to ignore them completely. The severity of an insult or an injury largely depends on the temper and temperament of the person subjected to it. With a good will and a pliable disposition we get reconciled to most things in time. Married people ought to school themselves to see and appreciate every element of good in the actions and conduct of their partners. We are all expected to take as favourable a view as possible of others. And this obligation has much greater force and is much more urgent when there is question of a person’s life-partner, with whom he or she is or should be bound in such intimate ties of sympathy and love.

But even in face of actions that are annoying or provoking and that have no mitigation to take the sting out of them or in face of a habitually perverse disposition, it will help towards leniency of judgment and calmness of bearing, to remember that no one is perfect, and that the number of people approaching perfection is very small. Some are exacting by nature and are inclined to set a very high standard for others. And intolerant, unreasonable people of this kind, if they want to have happiness of a sort, should call their pride to their aid, form the high ideal for themselves, and condescendingly acknowledge that others cannot be as they are; that is, if they are not willing to practise Christian patience and forbearance.

Again, the words of the marriage service ought never to be far from the minds of husbands and wives that have to put up with neglect or ill-treatment, or the little troubles which in the aggregate mean so much; especially if they are inclined to rebel or be resentful. It is not merely on the marriage day when they repeat the words of the service, but during life, when soreness and disappointments are in danger of rankling in the heart, and poisoning springs of affection and good will necessary to happiness, that the parties should realise that the compact between them is that each should “have and hold” the other “for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, till death do us part.”

“ Live joyfully with the wife whom thou lovest, all the days of thy unsteady life, which are given to thee under the sun, all the time of thy vanity: for this is thy portion in life, and in thy labour wherewith thou labourest under the sun.”

(Ecclesiasticus ix, 9).

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Have We Kept The Faith To Ourselves

FRANK DUFF

INDEX

It was once said that the world suddenly wakened up in consternation to find itself Arian, this being the heresy, which denied the divinity of Christ. Today we could apply the same figure of speech and say that we are shocked that among Lay societies the Legion of Mary finds itself ploughing a rather lonely furrow in seeking conversions to the Catholic faith. Are we to assume that this turning away from conversion amounts to a tacit acknowledgement that one religion is as good as another? If so, it would truly be a conglomerate heresy, that it would include every heresy from the beginning.

If a Catholic thus degrades the Church in his thought, it means that he has dethroned all our venerable doctrines: the Mass, the Eucharist, the Sacraments, Mary. These are reduced to an equivalent to the codes and Practices of the other religions. We have our system which saves us! Others have their systems which saves them, and which perhaps suit them better! It is but a short step from that to thinking that none of them matter very much at all. History tells us what then happens. Indifference, non-practice and complete loss of faith succeed each other in inevitable sequence. Already many have set their feet on that downward flight of stairs.

So it is with mixed feelings that the Legion of Mary finds itself a principle exponent of the correct position: which is that only the Catholic Church contains the fullness of truth and that all other religions are either false or only partially true.

This is not to say that the Legion, while holding the proper point of view, is wholeheartedly applying it. That is far from being the case. You see what has emerged from examination into our three priorities: conversion, preservation, comforting. We have to admit that in actual practice they have been reversed. Legion energies, which could convert multitudes, have been dissipated on unnecessary and even silly things. And this in a world which has abandoned the moral law and where civilisation itself is in peril.

Last year a large host of legionaries engaged in the peregrinatio. Many countries took part and many places were the scene of their venturesome activities. It would be accurate to say that nowhere did they find any notion of converting. They gave themselves to it. Invariably the local legionaries joined in with great heart. They were willing, they proved themselves competent but they had not previously thought of that work. Evidently there is a failure in leadership. But the fact that we can point to the cause does not rectify this quasi denial of the Church.

INSTEAD OF A GREAT WALL, A WORLD OPEN TO US

One would think from this abandonment of our mission that an iron wall stood in the way of converting. This is not the case. The world is now more ripe for converting than ever before. The special reason for this is the development of the means of communication which has, so to speak, presented a visible weighing up of all the religions against each other. I think it would now be admitted that the whole world has more or less consciously concluded that the only one which emerges as a rational proposition is the Catholic Church. This Judgement will assume greater substance according as education advances and as the other religions progressively disintegrate.

In this connection I have previously told you the story of Japan. I do not repeat the startling details. I have to content myself with saying that when in the 1930’s that nation realised the futility of it existing religions and then faced up to the filling of the vacuum. It unhesitatingly chose Catholicism. Coming from a traditional enemy, this step represented a dramatic testimonial.

Later on in the 1950’s, Communist China, feeling that it had to stage some religion, contemptuously pushed its native religions to one side and assigned Catholicism to the role of the Church of China. But, alas it wished to make it a creature of its own, a state Church- which spoiled everything.

I think that things have progressed to this stage that if any enlightened and unbiased country were to be seeking a religion for its people, it would have to decide on Catholicism. It might not thereby be acknowledging it as a Divine revelation but only as the holiest and wisest and most beneficial code in the world. But I comment that the latter is just what we would expect the true religion to comprise. I cannot see how any other choice could be made if the best is really being sought.

All the others palpably represent human devising and human folly in varying degrees.

And what I have said of the nation holds equally for the individual. The Church today is the city set on the hill so that all see it. Everyone in his heart acknowledges it as somehow different, in a classification of its own. Speak to anyone in the world and you will find in him that strange recognition of the uniqueness of the Church. This is not to say that he believes in it or accepts it or likes it. There are things which stand in the way of that. Firstly, he is not having the Church fully and correctly explained to him. Secondly, the world, the flesh and the devil tell him that the Church is a “hard saying,” too hard for human nature. But supposing we do make an approach to him, what happens? I have been listening to the reports made by many of the peregrini returned from their various fields which are typical, one can claim, of the whole world. It has been a religious experience, like a bringing up to date of the Acts of the Apostles, a turning of print into persons and voices. By reason of the wealth of material the peregrini had to be limited to a single episode each. I cannot give you even that much. I can offer only a few gleanings. But at least these will show what is there waiting for the apostle:

1. “I have no religion but I am interested in what you have to say”

2. From the manageress of a brothel: “I would wish to be a Catholic but how can I, considering my profession?”

3. “None of us here bother about Churches anymore”

4. “I have never heard people talk like you”

5. “You have told us things we never heard before, and everybody should hear them”

6. “You have given us much to think about and personally I feel there is something in it”

7. “If you were here for another week you would have me in your Church”

8. “You have revived the idea of Christ which has been dead in me for 60 years”

9. “I do not believe, but I would like to talk with your priest”

10. “I have to postpone my promise to be baptised. I have two friends who are almost ready to be baptised along with me” that comes from one who had been professing atheism.

11. “I would like to continue this talk. I am beginning to believe”

12. “You propose your religion very nicely. I am grateful to you for not preaching at me”

13. “I am 62 years here and you are the first Catholics who have ever visited me”

14. “I have had to send my children to the Protestant school so that they would learn about God” 15. “I have been contacted by every religion under the sun. this is the first time by Catholics” 16. A Jew said: “I am grieved that I will never see you again. You have taught me much. You have given me courage to face the future which looks so frightful to us Jews”

17. “Today for the first time in my life I entered a Church. Now you stop me and talk to me about that religion. I am overwhelmingly impressed”

18. “All my life I have wanted to be a Catholic. You are the first who has ever invited me to be one” 19. “I am an atheist but I would like to bring my boyfriend to listen to your religion”

You see, a welcome awaits. No trouble anywhere, even in the officially atheistic lands. Good done in every case. Misconceptions corrected. People stirred up. Some advance into belief in almost every case. No resentment to the Catholic approach- just the opposite. All this proceeding from a short peregrinatio and a brief contact with each individual. What could not be accomplished if the local legionaries were attending to this work all the time? And is it not manifest what the possibilities would be if the entire Church were mobilised to the task. I add that the most sickening impression which I have gained from all my listening to those accounts is the frequency of the phrase: “You are the first persons who have ever asked me to become a Catholic.” That the ordinary Catholic could be so dead towards the Church and his neighbour is almost inconceivable. But there is the fact.

Not only is the world prepared to listen but you see how strangely receptive is its attitude. This endorses the Legion doctrine that Jesus and Mary are not only helping us on but are likewise operating in the souls of those we go to. These are never combative; they are grateful. They accept what we say. They want to hear more. They regard it as a compliment that we want them in the Church.

EXTERIOR HARDNESS MAY HIDE INNER YEARNING

In a way all those persons are a little like children compared to you. They are spiritually immature. In their hearts they are longing for the things you are able to give them. They react surprisingly to your interest and affection because most people do not receive any real interest from others. If you show a deep interest, it has strange effects. This holds even where the surface is unpromising. Many display a hard exterior who are inwardly soft.

A number of our recent contacts has proved this. A nobleman who had presented the air of an iron bigot wrote a letter of congratulations to his daughter when she was received into the Church. Subsequently he questioned her on articles of the Faith and then declared his wish to be a Catholic.

Another nobleman asked casually by a Catholic friend if he had ever thought of the Church, replied that of late he had been turning it over in his mind. And two others in current letters to the press show how little their nominal Protestantism means to them.

Other non-Catholics suffering from acute worry have eagerly accepted the medal of Our Lady of Mental Peace and have obtained that peace.

It is remarkable what small acts on our part can be made the instruments of Providence. A legionary said to a Protestant with whom he had been touch for a long time: “Apparently you are never going to make the sign of the cross which is the acknowledged symbol of our Redemption.” The other made no reply but at their next meeting very solemnly made that Sign and added: “You made a point there. You set me thinking. I want you to shepherd me in.”

Others to whom you address our little formula: By any chance did the thought of being a Catholic ever occur to you?”-return the answer: “Yes, I have always wished to be one.” When you inquire why they had never done anything about it, the invariable reply is that you are the first who had ever proposed it to them.

INCORRECT ATTITUDE OF SOME CATHOLICS

From that universal responsiveness it would seem justified reasoning that millions are similarly waiting for the first word of invitation. But the invitation is not being given because of that strange Catholic reluctance to speak about the Faith. Whence proceeds that silence? It is not found in persons of other religions. It is noteworthy that legionaries do not suffer from it and yet they are just typical Catholics in all save their Legion membership. Evidently motives have been supplied to them which overcome the natural hesitancy.

It is not as if difficult questions will be put. In practice nothing will be asked which the normal Catholic cannot answer, remembering of course that it is humanly impossible to explain purely supernatural things, such as the Blessed Trinity or the Eucharist. It is only necessary for us to state our belief. No sane person will expect us to explain how it is.

These are days when perversity seems to be the prevailing atmosphere. Too many among us are bent on depreciating the Church and proving that non-Catholics are all right where they are. I know of many cases where really interested non-Catholics sought information about the Church and were put off by the Catholics to whom they applied. What are we to think of such Catholics? Bodily they may be in the Church but their spirit is elsewhere.

Ingenious phrases have been coined to the effect that Catholics should not obtrude their beliefs on others: Religion is too personal and sacred a matter to interfere with! It is indelicate to tamper with another soul!-and so on with that destructive litany.

Perhaps the idea which would weigh most with a Catholic would be that just as he would not like a Protestant trying to convert him, similarly he should respect the others feelings. But the circumstances are totally different. It is our conviction that the Lord has through the Church taught absolute truth which we must live by and pass on to others. That has no analogy with the case of the ordinary non-Catholic whom we encounter. They have little that could be called a faith. Most of them regard their religion as permitting them to believe what they like and to do what they like. They do not attach any certainty to doctrines. They are ready to modify these according as they get new ideas or come under new influences. They court those influences and they would be willing to be affected by Catholicism if it offered itself to them.

With regard to the suggestion that it would trespass on the liberty of a person to propose Catholicism to him, is it to be inferred that Our Lords command to preach and Gospel to every creature was an infringement on human rights? And why make an exception of religion in these days when freedom to express ones views is made a first principle and every subject under the sun is openly discussed.

OUR SILENCE IS MISUNDERSTOOD

I sum up by saying that whatever the motive which keeps Catholics from presenting their Faith to others, it is going to be misinterpreted in ways that we would not like. For example:

“Catholics are very limited in their knowledge of their religion. They are incapable of explaining it. They run like a redshank if they think you are going to ask a question about it.”

OR:

“Those Catholics are the strangest people. They appear to have a belief in their religion but they are determined to keep it to themselves. They never invite anyone into it. They never talk about it to others. If you ask one of them a question, he closes up like an oyster. You would think it was a secret society.

OR:

“Of course the reason why the Catholics never propose their Church to us is that they do not want us in it. They cannot forgive us for the ill-treatment which our ancestors gave them. They do not forget or forgive. Not much Christianity about that! We are not our ancestors.”

OR:

The Catholics here regard themselves as socially superior to us. In the main we are the working people. That is why they do not ask us to join them.”

OR:

“Catholics say they do not believe in the colour bar. Why then do they never ask us Negroes to be Catholics? Of course their reason is racial.”

Would we be satisfied with any of those hurtful explanations of our silence? You know that we would be dismayed and humiliated to the depths of our nature by them. But really what else are people to think in regard to our determined silence?

Our Catholic Faith is a jewel of great price, the answer to the puzzle of the world, the key to eternal life, the only true consolation in this vale of tears. It should be our over-mastering instinct to explain its treasures. But no. For one reason or another we do not open our mouths. It is the one subject we do not talk about.

When our Lord instructed His disciples to go to every individual in the whole world with His Gospel, it must have seemed beyond human attainment. For the world to them ranked as large as the whole universe does to us. Yet those disciples did not retort with a litany of excuses. Neither have you when these great enterprises have been proposed to you. You have shown the readiness to travel to the ends of the earth to obey the divine command.

HISTORICAL ROOTS OF THE PROBLEM

But in regard to most of the problem there is no need to go travelling. Because it is all around us. In particular I discuss the Protestantism of Europe. Macaulay points out that none of the nations which left the Church at the time of the Reformation have ever returned. One reason for this is that we have not attempted to bring them back. In their case there are other circumstances than those of pure religion which buttress up their position. These have been political and social considerations which reached their heights in Great Britain and Ireland where the Catholics were reduced to levels below which they could not go.

All that built up a massive barrier and the years of political equality have not worn it away. We have tried to behave towards them in a Christian manner, but rooted in them is the idea that the Church wishes them ill and that our good behaviour is only a subterfuge.

In regard to Ireland they used to say that Home Rule would mean Rome Rule and that political power would be used to crush them out of existence. This has not happened but in their hearts they still feel that we would like to do it, and that in propitious circumstances we would do it.

Centuries of propaganda have represented the Church as essentially cruel and intolerant. With a uniformity which did not apply to doctrine, every Protestant was taught about the Inquisition, the Massacre of St Bartholomew’s Day, the Revocation of the Edict of Nantes, and other alleged ill-treatments by Catholicism, without a word as to the other side of the picture.

All that preserves sufficient grip to hurt their relations with us and in particular to interfere with our efforts at conversion. They do not think that our wish to convert them springs from a genuine faith in Catholicism but that it is only a way of getting rid of Protestantism as a problem.

Protestants may grant to the ordinary Catholics a correct intention but will nevertheless be convinced that the higher government of the Church has malign intentions in regard to them and would not refrain from persecution if it got the chance. This is not the case. In modern ages the mind of the Church has completely clarified itself in regard to its relation with other religions. It is recognised that it would be wrong to persecute another for his religious opinions. That is now peremptorily enshrined in Catholic legislation, so that never again in any circumstances could the Church be found indulging in it.

An overpowering testimony to the foregoing is provided from an unexpected quarter, none other than Winston Churchill. The occasion was an address to the Dutch Parliament at the Hague. Coming from such a man in such a position, the judgement is too weighty to be disregarded. He said: “Since the estrangement between Protestants and Catholics in the XVI and XVII centuries, there has arisen at least one important new fact that everyone should keep in mind. The Church of Rome has ranged itself on the side of those who defend the rights and dignity of the individual as well as the cause of personal liberty all over the world.”

To that new and important fact of Winston Churchill’s I would add an old one. In the Middle Ages the State had assumed such power over the Church as almost to deprive it of liberty of action. It used this control to implicate the Church in acts of misconduct of its own, but Protestants have always given the entire blame to the Church. Such was the servitude to which the Church was reduced that the historians say that events like the Reformation and the French Revolution, which looked like disasters to the Church, were in reality blessings in disguise. They relieved the Church from State domination and enabled it to be itself.

PERSECUTION BY REFORMED CHURCHES

Another fact, to which in their own interest we must ever so gently call the attention of Protestants, is that they themselves have cut no creditable figure in the matter of persecution. They persecuted as heartily as ever the Church did. But what makes their position more grave is that they did it inconsistently. They had proclaimed that religious persecution was intrinsically evil, and nevertheless they went on to practice it. Secondly, they taught their peoples that persecution was exclusively a Catholic sin, creating a feeling against the Catholic Church which still survives.

The magazine “Time,” what cannot be accused of partiality towards the Church, has the following comment: “Like the Church of England, wherever the major Reformation Churches flourished they followed the Catholic pattern of State-Church partnership and were just as savagely relentless as the Roman Church in persecuting religious minorities.”

Lest “Time” be not regarded as convincing enough, I quote Protestant historians of the first rank:

“Persecution is the deadly original sin of the Reformed Churches which cools every honest man’s zeal in their cause in proportion as his reading becomes more extensive.”

That is from Hallam’s Constitutional History, a work of first importance.

In his work “Lollardry of the Reformation,” Gardner observes: “The theory that Protestantism was more tolerant than Romanism will not bear investigation.”

In recent years much clamour has been caused by the allegation that Pope Pius XII did not defend the Jews sufficiently. I think that the final judgement would show the Papacy as having risen above all other authorities in their historical behaviour towards the Jews. At this moment the Jews are oppressed with the feeling that every mans hand is against them but I do not think that they need have any fear in regard to the Papacy or the Catholic Church.

CATHOLIC CHURCH’S FACE NOW SET AGAINST PERSECUTION

Now a final word on this subject of persecution.

When the Church of the Middle Ages failed in that regard it was due to the applying to religion of the idea, which is correct in the secular sphere, that punishment for our misdeeds is an aid towards good conduct. So pressure was mistakenly put on the heretic in order to restore him to the way of salvation.

But all that belongs to the past. It is impossible to imagine the Church as ever again persecuting or permitting its members to persecute. Furthermore, I claim that the Church succeeds in imprinting on the mind of the individual Catholic a detestation of the very idea of persecution. Included would be any from of pressure minor to persecution. To the Catholic mind it would be abominable to bring people into the Church by inducement or false pretences or by any improper means. The very notion would be odious to us of receiving into the Church anyone who did not believe in it.

The setting out of the true circumstances in regard to past persecution tactics is necessary lest Catholics be driven into a purely defensive position while allowing Protestants to retain their self-satisfied attitude. That ground cleared, let us now return to the Catholic duty of approaching every soul.

Our approach must be based on love and show it. We must exhibit gentleness, simplicity, interest and the other things which denote love. Never must our tone be that of trying to conquer others. We are offering the Faith to them because we love them and wish to give them the greatest gift we know

THE TEST IS THE GENUINENESS OF OUR LOVE

St. John the Evangelist tired people by repeating that the final test of religion was love. It is questionable if it can be communicated other than through that channel. It is the case that religious knowledge can be imparted by persons without either faith or love but it is to be doubted if it carries with it the spark of authentic religion. Therefore from the first moment we must speak words which proclaim us as friend and not foe. The reflex to that will be friendliness. The handbook asks the question: “Can we love to order?”

That is can we dispense genuine love to people whom we meet for the first time and who may even be unpleasant to us? It answers affirmatively, explaining that God is in us; God is Love, and by His very nature He has to shine through us if there be a certain transparency in us. That is if our motive is pure; if we want to pass on the faith that is in us; and if self is not too assertive. Almost automatically we can suppress self by making an act of union with Jesus and Mary. Thinking of them, we project their lustrous personality.

People are somehow conscious of this and show themselves strangely responsive. How often have we heard legionaries report that their offering of the Miraculous Medal produced an immediate and visible change in people. That effect is due to the thought and reliance on Mary for which the medal stands.

Electricity has its laws. You turn it on and you turn it off and it accomplishes your purposes. But the laws of grace are infinitely more certain. Even defects in our handling do not interrupt the flow of grace.

It is abundantly evident from the success which has been attending your efforts that you possess the holy art of displaying your faith advantageously. For everyone listens and it is certain that your message remains on in their minds.

As a deliberate operation the Legion must plan towards the addressing to each person outside the Church of an invitation to come in. Put that way, it seems a fantastic proposition. But treat it as a parochial problem and where is the impossibility, that is if the Legion is there. Very often the Legion is not there and this proposes the question why?

If a parish cannot or will not produce a branch of the Legion, it puts that place into a dubious category. Likewise it means that no attempt to convert is going to be made there. I think it can be claimed that if the Legion exists in a place, then simple planning can ensure that everyone outside the Church will be spoken to. Nothing can exempt us from doing this. An item of that litany of false excuses has it that the desire to enter the Church must proceed exclusively from the person concerned. That would eliminate the idea of apostleship altogether. But apostleship is not our idea; it is a requirement of God’s. It is His insistence that we help each other in every way and above all in the spiritual order. You will recall the classical phrase of Ozanam, expressive of the Doctrine of the Mystical Body, that according to the laws which govern the spiritual life the attraction of one soul is needed to elevate another. The capital exemplification of this is that Our Lord in a total manner committed to His disciples the original diffusion of the Gospel. The Church inherits this task. It can only perform it through its members. The Council has proclaimed that every Catholic must be apostolic and this allocates to each one a share in the evangelising of the world. So let each one repeat to himself the Mount Olivet commandment and reflect that it is really addressed to him.

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Have You A God?

WHAT IS HE LIKE?

MARTIN J. SCOTT, S.J

INDEX

My dear sir. if you don’t believe in God, give me your reason for it,

Oh, these are lots of reasons. Don’t bother me. If you believe, all right, but let’s not argue about it. All right, if you want it that way. But say, just what do you understand by the word God?

The same as everybody else. But let’s not go into that.

Very well. Only I’ve been wondering how a man of your learning and experience can hold the views you do about

God.

Is that so? Well, let me tell you that I wonder how a man of your sense in ordinary matters can hold on to the worn-out notions of the past.

That’s a crusher, but it does not meet the issue. Now, frankly, will you tell me what you mean by the term God? Well by the word GOD, as ordinarily used, people understand the power, whatever it is, that is responsible for the existence of the world.

Capital! I knew if we got down to brass tacks we’d get somewhere. The trouble with most discussions is that neither party has a clear notion of what the other party means. That’s why a clear definition of terms is the basic of a light understanding.

Well, now that you know what I mean by the term GOD. What’s next?

When you say you believe in God as the power responsible for the universe, what is the nature of that power? That, no one can tell, except that It’s not a personal being,

If not personal, what may it be?

It may be some unknowable force, or perhaps chance, or matter of some kind.

Now we’re getting somewhere. You say, to begin with, that the power is unknowable. Let’s see. You understand, of course, that we may know a good deal about a certain thing without knowing all about it. Edison knew a great deal about electricity, for instance, from its effects, even though he did not know all about it. But he knew enough to enable him to benefit the world by his knowledge of it. In the same way, we may not know all about this power, but from its manifestations, we may know a good deal about it.

You mean we may speculate about it, in which case my guess is as good as yours, and my theory is that we can know nothing definite about it.

On the contrary, if you are willing to listen, and are open to conviction, I am certain that I can show you that we may know certain very definite things about the Power which is responsible for this world of ours.

Which things, for instance?

Well, to begin with the most important, it can be shown definitely that this Power is a person.

Oh, you may as well stop right there. You don’t mean to say that the great scientists who deny that there is a personal

God are wrong?

Until Pasteur demonstrated the contrary, great scientists were wrong about spontaneous generation, which was something in their own line. And why shouldn’t they be wrong about what is not in their own line? Some of the scientists, who have never given serious thought to the study of religion, make positive statements about it which would discredit them if they spoke in the same way about other things in their special sphere. Because a man is a great surgeon, it does not follow that his judgement on art or architecture is to be accepted. So let’s look into this matter reasonably, and judge it, not by someone’s say-so, but by sound reasoning.

All right, go ahead, let’s see what you have up your sleeve.

First, I’m going to show that the Power which is responsible for the existence of the world is a person. I hope you won’t think I’m butting in if I ask you just what you mean by a person?

I’m glad you’ve asked me that, for it shows that you agree to what I said about defining terms. By the word person is meant an intelligent being. For instance, you would not call a very clever dog a person, but you would call a child of six a person.

Do you deny that a dog has intelligence?

I certainly do. A dog has instinct, given by its Maker to direct it unerringly for its own destiny. Along its own line, it may be superior to man, but its line never varies except when man teaches or directs it. No animal has ever naturally varied its procedure. Some other time we’ll go into this matter more deeply.

Very well. By a person you mean an intelligent being. Now show me that this Power we’re considering IS an intelligent being.

There are various way of knowing what a thing is. Sometimes we know what a thing is by observation, as for instances a mountain, a river, a house. Other things we know by their effects, as for instance, the power of dynamite or the genius of a composer or artist. To look at Shakespeare, no one could know that he was one of the greatest dramatists of all time, but on reading Hamlet or Macbeth, it would be at once evident he was one of the greatest geniuses the world has known. So with regard to Edison. No one merely beholding him would know what an inventive wizard he was. But his works reveal his marvelous mind, which itself is not perceptible by the senses.

In the same way, by the works of the Power which is responsible for the existence of the universe, we may know that it is an intelligent being, that is, a person.

I’m interested. Would you mind developing this point a little further?

1 shall be only too glad to do so. Doubtless you will admit that design requires a designer, and that the universe manifests marvellous design. A designer must be an intelligent being. Hence we conclude that the Power which produced the universe is an intelligent being, that is, a person.

Couldn’t CHANCE account for the universe? Very many distinguished thinkers believe that all we behold could be brought about by CHANCE.

That’s a fair question, and the answer is that, since chance is a blind force, it could not design anything. In order to produce a designed something, it is necessary first of all to have a notion or idea of the thing to be designed. This thing does not yet exist, hence it must be in the mind of the designer in order to work toward its production. This requires the selection and adaptation of various things to a definite end not perceptible by the senses. It follows that no merely material substance can deal with what is at the time non-existent, namely, the end in view which directs the designer to the accomplishment of his purpose.

Chance, being a blind force, cannot select, adapt and combine various things to form a definite something, nor can anything purely material do so. Hence it is evident that neither chance nor sole matter can conceive and bring into effect a design. It remains that the designer must be a thing possessed of something more than matter, and we call this something the soul or mind or intelligence. And since an intelligent being is a person, we know that the designer of the universe is a person. This person we call God.

Say, old man, I’ve got to hand it to you. You have certainly got me on your hook. But maybe it’s because I’m not up in these matters that you win out. Perhaps if I were a lawyer I’d be able to wriggle off the hook.

Fine- I’m glad you referred to the law, because one of the strongest reasons for believing in a personal God is drawn from the nature of law.

Let’s hear it, if you don’t mind.

The reasoning runs thus: Law supposes a lawgiver. The universe is under law, therefore under a lawgiver. A lawgiver is an intelligent being, hence a person, whom we call God.

What do you mean by the universe being under law?

It you had studied physics or chemistry or astronomy, you would know that everything in the visible universe is under law. Newton declared that the regularity of the firmament proclaimed an intelligent Maker. In point of fact, law so dominates nature that some people assert that a miracle is impossible, since it would be a violation of natural law. This point we shall discuss on another occasion. I mention it here to show that law governs the universe.

Well, couldn’t chance explain all that?

Absolutely not. Could you, for instance, explain the exact schedules of railway trains by chance? The regularity of a railway is as nothing compared to the regularity of the firmament. Millions of celestial bodies, each many times larger than the earth, are moving through space at terrific speed, each in its own prescribed course, and in perfect harmony.

Are we sure of all that?

Perfectly sure. As an instance, let me give you a single fact.

Everyday at high noon, when the sun crosses the meridian, a ball drops from a contrivance at the Naval Observatory at Washington. This gives the official time to the United States daily. Other parts of the country regulate their clocks by this timepiece which receives its time from the world-clock.

Why do you call it the world-clock?

Because that’s what the sun is, a timepiece which gives the exact hour of the day. And the world-clock not only never loses a second, but moreover never needs to be wound up or regulated. The finest watch or clock made by man is a clumsy contrivance compared to the world-clock. Now, you cannot imagine that a fine watch made by a man is the result of chance, can you?

No. certainly not.

In a watch there are many parts which have to be nicely adjusted to an intricate plan. Only an intelligent being is capable of such a process. Those who affirm that chance or anything else, except intelligence, could effect the nice adjustment that regulates the firmament, would have to believe that chance, or some form of mere matter, could select and adjust the mechanism of a clock.

I must admit that the arguments from design and law compel me to give serious thought to the existence of a personal God. But to admit that this person is God in the sense that Christians hold is another matter. It’s one thing to believe in a personal God, but quite another thing to believe in your idea of God.

Just what do you mean by my idea of God?

You, or at least Christians believe that God it a perfect being, good, just, all powerful and all-knowing. Facts, however, prove the contrary, and you can’t argue against facts.

Right you are, provided of course that your facts are as you state them. Suppose we take up your main objections and see what they are worth. Let’s begin with the beginning. Your first objection is that God is not a perfect being. Shall I proceed?

By all means.

You admit, of course, that something caused this marvelously designed and regulated world. This something was either the first cause of all things or not. If it was not the first cause it was produced by some prior cause. This prior cause in turn was produced by a still prior cause, or it was not. We can thus keep going back and back until eventually we come to a cause which was not produced by a prior cause, This We call the First Cause, Do you follow my argument so far?

Quite readily.

Now this First Cause, since nothing existed before It, was Itself uncaused. How to explain Its existence? It existed always. For if It did not exist always, nothing would ever have existed. Unless something never had a beginning, nothing would ever come into being. We cannot understand how something never had a beginning, but reason obliges us to admit the fact that something never had a beginning, for as I have said already, unless something existed always, nothing would ever have existed.

I see, and I don’t see. It seems so strange that something never had a beginning and yet, as you say, unless there was something that never had a beginning, how could anything ever have come into being?

This shows the limitation of human reason. We can by our reason see the necessity of something, without being able to understand how the matter can be explained. After all, we should not be surprised that the finite cannot understand the Infinite.

Why do you specify the Infinite?

Because the First Cause, God, is necessarily Infinite.

I’m at sea here. How can anything be infinite? Infinite means without limits or bounds. I don’t see how anything can exist without definite limits.

You are quite right with regard to everything created, but the First Cause was not created. Since there was nothing prior to the First Cause, there was no one or no thing to limit It. Furthermore, since everything that exists or may possibly exist must come directly or indirectly from the First Cause, it follows that It possesses everything without any limit whatever.

But you have said that the First Cause is not matter. How then can It possess everything possible?

There are two ways of possessing a thing, actually or eminently. For instance, Shakespeare possessed the drama of Hamlet eminently before it was actually produced. In like manner, Wagner possessed the opera Parsifal eminently before it was actually composed. So the First Cause, since everything owes its origin to It, possesses eminently everything conceivable or possible.

You say that everything owes its origin to the First Cause. Does that not make It the cause of evil?

This is an important matter and frequently misunderstood, so let me explain it carefully. Evil is of two kinds: (a) Moral evil, which relates to human morality or conduct; (b) Physical evil, which includes the various things which harm man, such as bodily pain, deformity, natural calamities, etc.

Moral evil has its source in the will of man, who uses this noble faculty against the will of its Giver. God, instead of being the cause of moral evil, solemnly forbids it. Conscience, which is the voice of the Creator commanding man to do good and avoid evil, is evidence that the author of human nature is not the cause of evil. It will thus be seen that evil has its source in the rebellious will of man.

Free will is one of the greatest human endowments. But if it is abused, it gives rise to the various crimes and injustices which plague the world. The Author of nature permits free will to have its way, otherwise it would not be free; but although He permits evil, He threatens dire chastisement to those who commit it.

If God permits evil, is He not responsible for it?

No. The Creator made man free, but holds him responsible for the use of his freedom. God could prevent all evil if He stopped a man every time he planned to do wrong; but in thus interfering, He would make of man an automaton, acting not by his own, but by another’s will.

Of all visible creation, man alone has free will. Animals are governed by iron instinct which never varies; matter is governed by physical and chemical laws; the firmament is governed by celestial mechanics. All visible creation except man is like a train on rails, going in one line only. Man, however, may go anywhere and in any direction.

It is for the Creator to decide whether or not to give man free will with all its responsibilities; and He has decided to give it. All creation serves Him necessarily, man alone may serve Him freely. It is this gift of free will that makes man the crown of visible creation.

I see your point, which is, that if the Creator wished to have any of His creatures serve Him of their own accord, He had to endow them with free will. But how do you explain that One Who is perfect creates a being who, He knows, will abuse the gift of freedom bestowed on him?

The answer is another question. Why does a father give his son an education which the son may abuse to his own detriment? The education is a good thing in itself, and no sensible person would choose to be deprived of it because it had possibilities of evil.

You leave out an important item. The father does not know that his son will abuse his education; but if, as you say’ God is infinitely perfect, He knows all things, and consequently knows that the gift of freedom will be abused by some of those who receive it.

The answer is that God would not be infinitely perfect if He were not free to act as He chose. In giving man free will, moreover, He also gives him every inducement to use it aright. If, despite the good gift and the helps to use it aright, man chooses to use it against the Giver, he has himself to blame for the consequences. Man’s most cherished endowments are intelligence and free will. Intelligence, however, would be of little significance if it could not be used at the will of its possessor.

We know that the Creator is absolutely perfect, that is, absolutely good, and yet He created a being endowed with possibilities of evil. This is called the mystery of evil. Since, however, the Creator is infinitely wise, we must conclude that He has the best of reasons for His procedure.

What about physical evil such as deformities of body, disasters of nature, earthquakes, volcanoes, etc. which are not man’s doing?

All those things are the result of physical or chemical laws which the Creator established in the beginning, and with which He does not ordinarily interfere. A volcanic eruption, for instance, is a sort of safety valve for the internal fires of the earth. It is good in itself, but if people are in its vicinity, it is a calamity for them. The same holds for earthquakes, tornadoes, storms at sea, etc., all of which are the proper effect of nature’s invariable laws.

What about human suffering, deformities, disease and the various ills of mankind?

Sometimes these are the result, directly or indirectly, of man’s neglect or abuse. When, however, they occur without the person’s fault, as for instance, when one is born blind or deformed, it is a case in which we have to realize that He Who has the power and wisdom to create the universe, has also the Wisdom to govern it. Of this we may be sure, that when the final reckoning is made, we shall see that no human being has been unjustly treated by the Lord of Creation. When the design is fully displayed it will show the goodness of its Author.

Your conclusion is, accordingly, that an infinitely perfect being must be wise as well as good, and that if we do not understand His ways, it is our duty to bow our heads in reverent submission to His dispensations?

Yes, it comes to that. That is the meaning of faith. If God explained all His ways to us, we should see such goodness and justice in them that there would be little merit in faith. But as is, we sacrifice our noblest faculty, our judgment, by trusting absolutely to His wisdom and rectitude.

That is pretty hard at times, and I must say that one reason why I have been an atheist is the amount of misery and suffering I have beheld in the world, and the fact that injustice is rampant.

And where, do you think, comes your sense of justice which cries out against the suffering and injustice which shock you?

Why, it comes from my very nature. Something within me feels outraged at some of the things I behold.

Which means that your sense of justice, since it is natural, comes from the Author of nature. And do you suppose that He Who gave you that sense of justice has less justice than you?

Really, that is a view of the matter that I never considered.

No one can give what he does not possess either actually or potentially. You may turn on a water-tap, but it will give no water unless there is water in the reservoir with which it is connected. And that water will be of the same quality as that at the source. Since every endowment of man comes from the source of human nature, it follows that whatever of justice man may have, the Author of human nature has much more, infinitely more.

I’m surprised I never adverted to that fact.

Whenever you are tempted to doubt the goodness and justice of the Creator, reflect that it was He Who gave us our mothers. No one who has experienced the goodness and devotion of a mother can doubt the goodness of Him Who endowed mothers with that tender and loving nature.

I’m beginning to see the truth of those words of the Bible: The fool hath said in his heart there is no God. (Ps xiii, 1)

You might add those other words of the Bible: The way of a fool is right, in his own eyes. (Prove xii, 15).

And now that we are on this subject, I’d like to give you a little further evidence for belief in God as a Personal Being.

I’m only too glad to go into the matter farther, for I know that some of my friends will give it to me hot and heavy when they know that I am no longer at atheist.

The proof I now offer for the existence of a personal God is based on the fact that a judge must be an intelligent being, a person. A law supposes not only a lawgiver, but also agencies for the enforcement of the law. No legislator is indifferent to the observance of the laws he enacts. Unless a law has sanction, it will be violated with impunity.

I’m afraid I’ll have to interrupt you. Just what is meant by sanction?

Sanction means the power to enforce law. That is why a penalty is always attached to the breaking of a law, and a tribunal established for passing judgment on the accused. The judge in such cases must hear the evidence, weigh it, decide on the innocence or guilt of the accused, and mete out just punishment to the guilty. Only an intelligent being can perform these various functions.

Now, conscience is the law of the Creator, commanding man to do what is right and refrain from what is wrong. This law is written on the heart of every human being who has attained the use of reason.

Pardon me, but I have been under the impression that there are various tribes and groups of people who seem to have an altogether different view of morality from ours. This would seem to indicate that conscience is not a natural, but an acquired attribute.

While there may be different codes of morality among various persons, due to circumstances, every human being knows that he should do some things and refrain from others. The fact that conscience pertains to man wherever he exists means that it is part of his nature, and hence from the Author of nature. The law of nature supposes a judge who will render to every man according to his observance or violation of it. The Maker of man alone is qualified to judge a man’s conscience, since only the Maker knows it.

I suppose that is why a man cannot get away from his conscience no matter how hard he tries, because he cannot get away from himself or from the Author of his nature.

You are beginning to moralize, I see. That’s a good sign. Shall I pass on to another proof of the existence of God, or have you had enough?

Please go on. That last proof is just what I want for a lawyer friend of mine. I’m sure it will appeal to his type of mind.

You know, different people are impressed by different argument. A proof that will convince one person may not affect another at all. That is why it’s a good thing to have various ways of demonstrating the same truth.

Well, let’s have another.

The proof I am now offering is based on the fact that mankind everywhere and at all times has worshipped in one form or another a personal Power above, who influenced its destiny. It is true that at one time it was thought that certain benighted tribes, in out of the way places, had no religious worship. This fake notion was due to their timidity and suspicion of strangers. Later, when the missionaries and others had gained their confidence, they revealed their various religious rites and practices.

Yes, I’ve read of those practices you refer to, and 10ften wondered who taught them their religious worship.

That’s the very point I am approaching. Nobody taught them. It was a prompting of nature, a religious instinct. It manifested itself sometimes in very crude forms, but was, nevertheless, their way of acknowledging a personal Power above, to whom they owed reverence and submission. Unless they believed in a personal deity, worship would be meaningless. The fact that mankind everywhere and at all times has worshipped a personal deity means that such worship is inbred in human nature, and consequently belief in a personal God has its source in human nature, and is therefore true.

If you will pardon an interruption, may I question the universality of worship? Are there not many persons, atheists, for example, who do not worship a personal deity?

At various times and owing to various circumstances, certain individuals and groups spring up who deny a personal God. These are the exceptions that prove the rule. Unless the generality of mankind believed in a personal God, atheists would not be conspicuous. Furthermore, most atheists in unguarded moments give evidence of belief in a personal God.

The great attraction of atheism is that it makes its adherents a law to themselves. This is apt to bias their judgment and make them over-ready to accept specious arguments in favour of their views. Atheism is more or less an academic state of mind, super-induced by cruel or unpleasant personal experience of one kind or another. Some atheists are such because, although sincere, they regard one side only of the question, closing their eyes to whatever opposes their views, but welcoming every specious pretext that favours them.

You must admit, however, that many very intelligent men have embraced atheism.

Yes, and you yourself are an example. But, as you have admitted, the proofs for a personal God are so convincing that, ordinarily, one who considers the matter from both sides and is open to conviction, must see that atheism does not rest on a sound logical foundation.

There are various other reasons also which account for atheists, among which are: intellectual pride, the spectacle of suffering, injustice and other human casualties; some just grievance which has embittered one’s life, etc., etc. Atheism, however, being somewhat negative, a denial of a personal ruler of the world, offers no solution for any of the problems of life. Instead, it deprives man of the greatest solace and strength in the hour of affliction which comes sooner or later to every mortal.

How would you answer an atheist who is such because he cannot reconcile the idea of a good God with the prevailing suffering and injustice among mankind?

The first thing to insist on is the fact that the Creator, because He is the First Cause and source of every perfection, is by His very nature absolutely perfect. This means that He is goodness itself. In the light of this truth we must conclude that whatever happens is caused or permitted for a wise and beneficent purpose, even though we may not know what this purpose is.

If a child saw its father, whose kindness of heart was beyond question, do something which seemed to be harsh, the child would spontaneously say that what was done was right. And if someone objected, the child would say: “You don’t know my father; if you did, you’d know that he would not do anything unkind.” In the same way, knowing that God is goodness itself, we must infer that whatever He causes or permits is dictated by goodness, even though we are unable to understand it. The wisest man that ever lived is less able to understand God and His ways than a child at its mother’s breast is able to understand its mother.

Nevertheless man is a reasonable being and is justified in drawing obvious conclusions from facts.

That is true if man has all the data to judge by. But man has only the data of time, and lacks that of eternity, which is essential in passing judgment on the Ruler of time and eternity. Perhaps this may be made clear by an example.

General Robert E. Lee, of the Confederate Army, was known as the kindest of men. Yet, at the Battle of Gettysburg, he ordered regiment after regiment to charge against cannon and bayonet, thus to face almost certain disability or death. Regarded apart from its purpose, such an act was doubtless that of a monster of cruelty; but to one who understands the end Lee had in view, the act was one of heroic patriotism, aimed at preserving the life of the nation. No one who understood the circumstances under which Lee acted would think of accusing him of cruelty. So, no one would ever accuse God of cruelty if all the data were at hand for judging His dispensations.

I grant that anyone who acknowledges that God is infinitely perfect, and goodness itself, would refrain from passing adverse judgment on His dispensations; but as a matter of fact, people who accuse Providence do not believe in a benevolent deity.

And that is why it is necessary first of all to convince such a person that the First Cause of the Universe is necessarily infinite in everything, in knowledge, in wisdom, in power and in goodness. No reasonable person can logically deny that the Origin of everything in the universe must possess every conceivable virtue and quality in the highest degree. On that truth as a basis rests the fact that God is infinitely wise, infinitely powerful and infinitely good. Such a Being is to be reverenced and trusted. It is faith in God, as the good and wise Ruler of time and eternity, that justifies the trust His followers put in Him, and enables them to bear resignedly and cheerfully the vicissitudes of life.

Religion is not an opiate to render man numb to the trials of life, but rather a vital force which gives him an incentive to do and endure cheerfully whatever things duty may entail. Life is probation and the grave is not the goal. True religion, based on belief in a personal God, guides and supports the wayfarer of time to the portals of a blissful eternity. The Son of God became Man in order that the children of men may become the children of God. “To as many as received Him, He gave them power to be made the sons of God.” (Saint John i,12).

The main reason why the world is in such dreadful confusion and in such a state of brutality today is that mankind in considerable numbers has turned its back on God. Communism and other godless doctrines have reduced to slavery nations that hoped to find in these false systems a panacea for human ills.

Atheism may shoot a denial of God to the four corners of the world, but it has never brought and never will bring comfort and strength to a broken heart or a blighted life. Faith in a personal God has cheered the oppressed, comforted the suffering, sustained the victim of injustice and given courage and strength to millions of men and women to face the battle of life and win a glorious eternal victory.

Nihil Obstat :

RECCAREDUS FLEMING,

Censor Theol. Deput.

Imprimi Potest :

@ Ioannes Carolus,

Archiep. Dublinen.,

Hiberniae Primas. Dublini, die 9 Dec., anno 1944.

********

Have You A Soul? 1

BY DANIEL A. LORD S.J

INDEX

“I”ve just had a horrible thought.”

Bradley pêre from his vantage point before the large fireplace surveyed the group of his intimates, confident that his sentence would create a sensation.

Sue Bradley, one of the twins, giggled disrespectfully. She loved to see her father dramatise himself. No man could resist the temptation to self-dramatisation when he stood with a real log fire behind him and the right sympathetic audience in front of him, and, tonight, the audience was both right and sympathetic.

There was Mrs. Bradley, who had, through the years, cultivated a charming receptivity to her husband’s conversation. There was Dick, the other twin, who sat with his back against the huge lounge and let himself be pleasantly hypnotised b y the snap of the log fire. There were the McDermotts and the Fosters, who, peacefully relaxed, sat sipping their afterdinner coffee; these were old friends, who dined with the Bradleys almost every second month, friends with whom conversation was pleasant and the interchange of experiences both casual and intimate.

And in a deep corner of the lounge, his face restfully turned toward the fire, was Father Hall, who had come to town for a week’s negotiations with his publisher.

HORRIBLE THOUGHT

“Yes,” said the senior Bradley, for he saw that his line had fallen on alert ears, and he was quite willing to repeat it,

“I”ve had a horrible thought.”

“My darling,” his wife cried, in mock sympathy, “do say an ejaculation.”

“Wrong guess,” he said, swaying on his heels in approved master-of-the-house fashion. (A pity, mused Sue, that he isn’t wearing tails; he could put his hands under them and flop them after the fashion of an English duke in a Broadway comedy of manners.) “in fact, horrible as the thought is, it borders on the devotional.”

“That’s your field, Father Hall.” Kevin McDermott, who looked like a matured tennis champion and was a tobacco broker, laughed. “Tell Father Hall your horrible thought,” he said to Mr. Bradley, in mock patronising tones.

The rest of the group clamoured to hear it, and Mr. Bradley accepted this as proof that he was playing his scene well.

NOT AT ALL SURE

“Well,” he explained “all my life I”ve been trying to save my soul. And it just occurred to me that I”m really not sure that Ihave a. . . . .. . . . . .”

“Darling!” cried his wife, in quick protest. “You’re one of the biggest-souled men in theworld.”

He bowed elaborately.

“Trust my wife to say just the right thing,” he said, with an all inclusive gesture. “But-if I may be permitted an aphorism-to flatter my disposition is not to appeal to my brain. And I”m darned if I know whether or not I”ve a soul.”

Evan Foster waved a coffee spoon in the direction of Father Hall.

“You’re just wasting your time exhorting this doubting brother to guard against the loss of his soul.”

NOT DOUBTS

“Hey,” protested Mr. Bradley, “don’t get me wrong! I don’t doubt that I have a soul; in fact, I”m convinced that Ihave one. What I meant was this: If anybody stopped me in the street and said, “Look here, old man, how do you go about proving that you have a soul?,” I”d be as dumb as a turtle. Of course, I have a soul. And Father Hall has convinced me that I ought to save the doggone thing.”

“Better not tie that adjective to your soul,” cautioned Sheila Foster. “Sounds too much like-”

Her husband raised a warning hand. “You may skip telling us what it sounds like, honey,” he said. “We all got it.” Mrs. Bradley stepped into the situation with her usual firmness.

“Doesn’t the Bible prove that we have a soul?” she asked. “Didn’t Our Lord tell us to save our souls? Didn’t He die so that we wouldn’t lose them? That’s enough to satisfy me.”

VICIOUS CIRCLE

Her husband fixed her with a stern, reproving eye.

“There you go, arguing in a vicious circle.”

“Darling,” she protested, “the circles in which I move are delightful and not in the least bit vicious.” “This one is vicious,” retorted her husband. “You use the Bible to prove that you have a soul by declaring that the Bible tells you that you ought to save your soul. A equals B because B clearly equals A.”

“I don’t get it,” said Mrs. Bradley, emphatically.

“We do,” cried Sue, who had exchanged a quick glance with her twin.

“What’s more,” added Dick, “dad’s absolutely right. I”11 bet that if anybody asked me to prove that I have a soul, I”d start stuttering like a telegraph key. And so”- he cast a sweeping glance of accusation about the group around the fireplace- “would the rest of you.”

JUST ACCEPT IT

“I didn’t know that you had to prove that you have a soul” Alma McDermott was verypuzzled. “I just accepted the fact. Why should you want to prove it?”

“Because,” explained Bradley, “so darn many people think they have no soul. At least, they say that they haven’t one.” He turned abruptly to Father Hall. “Materialists is what they call them, isn’t it, Father?”

The priest nodded. “Correct. Russia and Red Mexico and large sections of what we call civilised nations and many a professor of psychology-all of them think that a soul is as out of fashion as a banshee and just as fictitious.”

“Oh,” inserted Sheila Foster, who tried hard to live up to the Irish in her name and her blood, “I believe in banshees. I had an old aunt who.-”

“Don’t get started on banshees,” commanded her husband. He looked at the group in appeal. “If she starts telling you about that aunt that used to take tea with the good little people and was on intimate terms with a leprechaun- . . . she’d never let us get back to talking about souls.”

CONFUSION COMPOUNDED

Kevin McDermott stirred his coffee thoughtfully.

“I had that same thought about souls some years ago. I suddenly realised that if anybody backed me into a corner and told me that I had to prove that I had a soul, or else, I”d be obliged to accept the or else.

I looked up some books on the subject. ““Lord, what a muddle they threw me into! The Catholic books seemed the worst to me. They all started off, not by proving to me that I had a soul, but by proving to me that the fellows who said I didn’t have a soul were all cuckoo. And by the time I was half finished reading about the things that these non-Catholics hold and don’t hold, I was the guy that was cuckoo.”

His voice was so despairful that they all laughed in sympathy.

“What a lot of junk I waded through!” he said, ruefully. “It seems that one set of people say that I haven’t any soul at all and another set say that I”m nothing but a soul.”

“My big, husky man, nothing but a ghostly soul?” his wife almost shrieked. “How horrible!”

ALL KINDS OF SOULS

“A lot of “em seemed to think that there was no such thing as an individual soul, but that the world was full of one big soul that flowed through our brains as water flows through faucets.”

“Explaining water on the brain?” wise cracked Evan Foster. The rest of the group groaned him into silence. “Some said that thought was merely a nerve vibration,” Kevin continued, “and some said thought was a manifestation of a world soul. Some said we thought only about words and not about universal ideas. I was dizzy when I”d finished reading the books, and I”11 be darned if I ever reached the point where an author proved that I do have a soul. Of course, I quit. So when our host begins wondering whether or not he has a soul, I”m in the same boat.”

The group lapsed into a moment’s silence. It really did seem silly to think that while they were, like all good Catholics, busy trying to save their souls, in the face of the thousands of people who claimed that there were no such things as souls, they couldn’t even prove that they had one.

Was thereany logical proof? Or did they simply have to take God’s word for the soul’s existence?

Mr. Bradley walked across the room and sat down in an easy chair. He was the stage manager; he had set the stage for the act that he hoped would follow. He was the actor who had rung up the curtain with a mighty good speech and who was now content to let someone else take centre stage. He was, above all else, the puzzled Catholic who had been made to realise that he was ignorant about a subject that worried him and left him decidedly troubled. Well, he had tossed the problem into the hands of his good friend, Father Hall. Let the priest, who sat pleasantly relaxed, the light of the fire brightly playing across one half of his keen, alert face, solve the problem.

NOT SURPRISED

Father Hall held a match to the large bowl of his pipe. He was among friends who understood his after-dinner preference for his pipe and his disdain of the host’s expensive cigars. Father pulled the smoke into his mouth, appreciatively; then he flicked out the flame of the match.

“Well,” he began, “I’m not surprised.”

“Not surprised at what?” demanded Kevin McDermott.

“Not surprised that no one in this crowd of educated Catholics could—in a pinch prove that he has a soul. Of course, one of these days Dick and Sue will be studying in their Catholic-college psychology class the proofs for the existence of the soul. But I”m sometimes amazed when I realise how many people there are who get callouses on their knees, saving souls whose existence they accept on faith, and how many there are who have never even stopped to wonder whether they could prove from reason that they have a soul to save. It’s one of the startling phenomena of Catholic thinking or shall we call it Catholic lack of thinking?”

Everyone in the group stirred uncomfortably, even though Father Hall’s voice was entirely without bitterness or resentment. Their guilty consciences were prodding them.

CAN IT BE PROVED?

“Can it be proved from reason that we have a soul?” put in Alma McDermott, timidly.

“Certainly it can be proved. Why the Bible is built up around the fact of a human soul. Genesis recounts the story of God’s breathing into the newly-formed body of man “a living soul,” thus making him in the image of his Maker; the Gospels end with the stories of Christ’s sending the Apostles into the whole world to save souls and to bring them into the eternal kingdom of heaven, where, while the bodies lay sleeping in the earth, the souls would be endlessly happy-’this day . . . with me in Paradise.” From beginning to end the Bible accepts the soul as the second great reality. The first reality is God. The second is the human soul.

“But that’s only the beginning; or, rather, to put itmore accurately, it’s a mere confirmation of something that men would know and understand about themselves even if there were no Bible. You see, human history is certainly clear on at least this one point: that the vast majority of all men of all times have believed that they have something that is beyond and above and independent of-to some extent-the body.

SEPARATED BY DEATH

“The fact of death was and is inescapable. And even the primitives, the Egyptians and the Assyrians and the prehistoric men and the American Indians, laid their dead in some kind of grave. But though the bodies were dead and though everyone had learned from grim and often unpleasant experience how swiftly bodies decayed and became once more part of the earth, none of these people thought that with burial came the end of their dear relatives and friends. Somewhere in another world these dead continued to exist, somewhere where they could eat the food that was placed an their graves or could hunt and talk or could enjoy some sort of paradise or be punished in some sort of hell.

“The dead bodies were there, rotting; that was obvious. But something that was not the body was judged in the moments that followed death, judged because it was the more important part of a man, the part that had been responsible for his goodness or his badness.

VARIOUS NAMES

“Perhaps not all of these people called this something a soul. But all of them, from the cave men to the pagans of modern Jamaica, who “capture” the souls of their dead in little boxes as they escape from the dead bodies-all men were convinced that there was something in a man that was not his body, something that was superior to his body and was so independent of his body that after the body was dead that something went on living a life that was even more complete than the life it had lived while it was incased in the body. In fact, that something was so tremendously important that it was punished or rewarded according as the man lived a bad or a good life.

“Evidently this something was the thing that made man.

“So, you see, belief in souls is an historic tradition. The Bible is meaningless unless souls do exist. But so is human history and human selfanalysis.”

THEY MADE OTHER MISTAKES, SO -

Mr. Bradley shook his head.

“Oh, we’ve given up believing in so many things in which people always used to believe-fairies and ghosts and the sun’s moving round the earth. . . . That argument doesn’t impress me too much.”

Father Hall nodded in partial agreement.

The fact that a great many people agree on a thing doesn’t necessarily prove that the thing is right, unless-” He paused deliberately and dramatically. That caught their attention, and he pierced the attention with a gesture of his forefinger; “unless their reasons for agreeing on it are compelling, satisfactory reasons.”

They all seemed very full of thought. Even Dick and Sue puckered their young brows in an effort at serious reasoning.

Father Hall let them think.

“Then you believe,” interjected Mrs. Bradley, at last unable to stand the too-protracted silence, “that in the case of the soul the reasons were satisfactory?”

CLEAR OBSERVATION

“Perfect!” replied Father Hall. “You see, long before there were laboratories, men did quite a bit of observing. Sometimes I”m inclined to think that men did more observing along some lines before the invention of microscopes than men have done since that time. But don’t say that I said so.”

“We’ll tell all our friends the first chance we get,” cried Sue. “You’re just an old fogey that doesn’t believe in science.”

“Doesn’t believe in all scientists,” corrected the priest. “Science is wonderful. But often scientists are men who know so much about one thing that they are absolutely blind to everything else.”

He drew in on his pipe and slowly exhaled a ghostlike cloud of smoke.

DIFFERENT FROM ANIMALS

“Well, it didn’t take a heap of acute observing to make men-even very primitive men-realise that they were more than a little different from the animals around them. The tiger might be far more powerful physically than men were, but men had something inside themselves, some cleverness, some mastery of skill, that let them outwit the tiger that could knock them cold with a biff of its paw. Men could build traps. They might be afraid to meet a gorilla in the jungles, but they would have hooted at the suggestion that some gorilla was sitting down in a cave and drawing pictures of men on the wall. Men drew pictures of gorillas; by no stretch of fancy could they imagine gorillas drawing pictures of men.

“They found they had within themselves the power to learn to do almost anything that they saw th e animals do. But the animals learned nothing from them. Men were not so swift as was the deer, but men could outwit and kill the deer. The elephant could crush a man with his trunk or his forefoot, but a man could dominate an elephant and force him into slavery. The bird’s nest was a masterpiece of adaptation, but men learned to build houses and temples and palaces that were not only highly serviceable but extraordinarily beautiful. And if anyone had suggested to a primitive tribe that it should invite an ape to sit as a fellow counsellor, or train a dog to act as court physician, or have a chimpanzee as troubadour of the tribe or a beaver as the official architect, men of that tribe would have laughed boisterous, savage laughter.

“Animals, they knew, were different from men. Everyone knew that they were different. They lacked something that man had. And that something lifted man so high above the entire kingdom of animals -strong, fleet, beautiful, clever though those animals were-that between a man and an animal there was no possibility of equality.

NOT THEIR BODIES

“Now these men were shrewd enough to realise that this superiority was not in their bodies. The deer could outrace any man. The elephant could outwork him. Unarmed, he dared not meet the lion or the gorilla. His hair was not so beautiful as was the plumage of the bird of paradise. His skin could not resist heat and cold and the darts of an enemy as could the skin of a hippo. No; it was not man’s body that made him different. Then what was it?

“Well, they argued quite logically- or so it seems to me-that if it wasn’t their bodies that made the difference, it was something beyond their bodies, something that they possessed in addition to their bodies, something the animals didn’t have. They called it their soul, or they gave it some other name. But whatever they called it, it was the thing that made them men and, making them men, made them masters.

“All you and I have to do is watch a man and an animal tackle any problem or meet in any sort of co mpetition in which the man can use his full manhood and his complete abilities, and we are very much inclined to think that these old ancestors of ours were pretty smart.

WHAT A DIFFERENCE!

“In fact, I never read that some materialistic scientist is working to prove that there is no essential difference between a man and a monkey without thinking, “My friend, I”11 really be impressed when I hear that a monkey has set out to prove conclusively that there is no difference between a monkey and a man.” Our interest in monkeys is so different from the monkeys” lack of interest in us that that in itself is almost enough to prove that we are superior to monkeys.”“

Bradley, their host, was waiting to object.

“Of course, animals and men are different,” he said. “Man’s brain is more complicated than that of an animal. We’re different, we human beings, because our structure is more elaborate. A monkey is more elaborate than a clam. An ape is more elaborate than an ant. And we are more elaborate than any of the animals. Doesn’t that elaborateness explain our superiority? Why drag in a metaphysical thing like a soul?”

A PRINCIPLE

“Dear! dear!” sighed Father Hall. “You say metaphysical as if it were a nasty word. You’ve been reading the wisecracking unbelievers, my lad. They don’t like the word metaphysical. But metaphysical is just a term that we apply to those things that we can’t touch or see. Liberty is something that nobody ever saw. It’s metaphysical; but, believe me, it’s a mighty important thing. Principles are metaphysical. Do you know what we mean here by a principle?”

They didn’t answer immediately. It sounded like a trick question. Mr. Bradley took the lead.

“Evidently we’re not supposed to know. So just go ahead and explain.”

EXAMPLES

Father Hall pulled on his pipe.

“Well, let’s fumble around for some examples,” he said, looking just a little embarrassed. “I really should have been given some time to get all this in order,” he continued. “After all, when a man hasn’t studied psycho logy for almost twenty years .

“No apologies,” cried Sue.

“And no alibis,” jibed Dick.

“My pals!” The priest groaned and threw up his hands in mock despair.

“Some examples,” prompted Mrs. Bradley.

“Well, let’s say that a crowd of people, strangers to one another, are sitting in a railroad station. All of a sudden a number of things go wrong. A woman faints. A locomotive throttle refuses to budge. A man sitting on a bench grabs his forehead and enthusiastically starts to scribble on a piece of paper. Two men wax hot in argument; one hits the other, while a third man runs up and collars the first two.”

“Sounds like the last reel of a mystery movie,” murmured Sue.

YOU WATCH

“Now you are sitting in the station; you know no one there. You are simply watching. As the woman faints, a man runs up to her, pulls a stethoscope out of his pocket and expertly uses it, gives her something to drink, deftly manipulates her muscles, and presto! the woman is revived. What do you conclude about the man?”

“Why, obviously he’s a doctor,” cried Alma McDermott.

“All right; let’s continue. When word comes that the locomotive throttle is stuck, a man jumps up, climbs into the cab, monkeys with a few gadgets, and lo! the throttle works. He is . . .”

“-an engineer,” supplied Sheila Foster.

“Let me continue,” interposed Sue. “The man who runs up to the men that are arguing is a detective-”

“Correct. And if another man appears on the scene and offers to get them released.”

“He’s a lawyer.”

“If he isn’t a prominent politician with a drag at the city hall.” Evan Foster was highly ironic.

JUDGED BY RESULTS

“In other words,” said Father Hall, “we don’t know enough about what this last chap did or how he did it to be able to tell what he is. But in the other cases you knew precisely what each man was from watching-”

“-what he did.” Mrs. Bradley filled in the blank with an air of embarrassment. It seemed so simple, so simple.

“Correct. But note: You did not see the doctors medical knowledge; you just saw the man practising medicine. You did not see the engineer’s mechanical ability; you simply saw the man successfully monkeying with a machine. And monkeying is a verypoor word there. For all the possible monkeying that a monkey could do wouldn’t get the machine fixed. The policeman made an arrest, but he couldn’t show you or the fighting pair his authority. And nobody could see the lawyer’s legal knowledge or the politician’s “pull.” You didn’t have to see those things. You saw what we call an effect, something done. You knew what was the cause of that effect, and that cause was the knowledge, skill, special ability of each man-which is roughly what we mean by a principle. Get it?”

HOW ABOUT THE WRITER?

They all nodded.

“Now let’s do a little looking at the way in which some other things work.”

“Hey!” interrupted the male twin. “What about the chap who grabbed his head and started to write?” “Oh, then you walked over and picked up the paper that he had thrown away.”

“Dick being nosey as usual,” said Sue.

“And it was a scrap of lovely poetry, clearly original.”

“From the moment he grabbed his forehead,” Dick muttered, “I knew he was a poet.” And to Father Hall, “Sorry for the interruption. What are we looking at now?”

BODIES

“Just a group or cluster of bodies, various kinds of them. In the visible world we have a wide range to pick from, haven’t we? Everything from pebbles to philosophers, from geraniums to germs to gems, from orchids to oysters, from crystals to butterflies-”

“Oh,” cried Sue, “what happened to our alliteration?”

“Sorry,” Father Hall corrected himself, “from crystals to crypts and crustaceans.”

“Excellent!” applauded the twins.

“Now let’s choose a few from this varied range of bodies and make a picture.

“A rock lies under a wide-reaching tree on the side of a hill; near it sheep are feeding, while on the rock sits a shepherd watching his sheep, counting the profits he’ll make when the ewes have lambed and out of the joy of his heart singing a song of his own contriving.”

PASTORAL

“What-ho! Watteau!” was Kevin McDermott’s contribution.

“So, whether they were assembled by a pastoral painter or by our imagination, we have in one spot a rock, a tree, sheep, and a shepherd. Each of these things is quite obviously very different from all the others. The rock lies there, slowly corroded by the passing storms and the heat of the sun. It is, as we say, inanimate. The sheep browse about; they feed on the grass, which is turned by the power of their digestion into flesh and bone and the curling wool upon their backs; they will breed lambs that will be reproductions of themselves, complete in all details; and if these sheep have some accident or other, a little care and nursing will make it possible for their health to be restored.

“Over them hangs the beautiful tree. Its roots reach far down into t he soil, and the chemical elements that it pulls out of the earth are incorporated into its growing branches. It drops acorns to the ground, and these acorns are capable of becoming other frees. An axe may damage its bark, but if the damage is not too great, the wound will heal and the tree will continue to thrive.

SHEEP AND SHEPHERD

“Yet the sheep have things which the tree doesn’t have. The sheep recognise their master when he calls. They have a thousand instincts that they exercise without training or experience of any sort. They move about under the impulse of cold and heat and hunger and the desire for water. They follow their master with the fidelity of Mary’s famous lamb.

“Finally, we come to the man. He’s a poet at heart, a maker of songs. He se es the sheep as a means for making money, and for that reason he has decided to breed them. He sits in the shade and thinks of profit, of God, of the sheep he’ll have ten years from now (sheep that have no present existence), of love and beauty, the while he creates a new song out of the sounds that he’s heard around him.”

ENTER THE CAT

While Father Hall was talking, a sleek Persian cat wandered into the living room. The cat moved towards Mrs. Bradley, and, with a spring, was in her lap and curled, purring, on her knee.

“Why bother,” the priest said, suddenly, “with imaginary pictures? Everyone, please look at Mrs. Bradley.”

“Easy assignment,” said her husband, gallantly.

“How nice!” she murmured. “I”m either Exhibit “A,” laboratory experiment number 26, or the centre of the stage.”

“You are a charming proof for the existence of the soul,” said the priest. He looked around at the guests. “There is the beautiful chair in which Mrs. Bradley is sitting; there is the corsage of roses that she is wearing; there is the purring cat on her knee; and there is our hostess herself.

“That comes close to being a fair summary of the visible world:

“The inanimate world . . . the chair.

“The vegetable world . . . the roses.

“The animal world . . . the cat.

“The world of human beings . . . our hostess herself.”

They laughingly applauded the picture, and Mrs. Bradley looked immensely pleased.

NINETY-EIGHT CENTS WORTH

Father Hall continued.

“Now, as far as the chemical elements that go to make up the human parts of our two pictures-the shepherd on the hillside and the hostess in the midst of her guests -there is not a great deal of difference. You remember the old chemical analysis of a man, don’t you? The fat in his body would make half a dozen bars of soap, the sulphur would furnish heads for a box of matches, the chalk would whitewash a chicken coop, the iron would make a tenpenny nail. I think the total value of my body, chemically speaking, is about ninetyeight cents.”

“Horrible!” murmured Sheila Foster.

“Yes; if that were all there was to it, it would be horrible. And, according to the men who deny that man has a soul, that is all, and it is horrible.”

NOT THE SAME

The priest held up his hand emphatically. “But all you have to do is study the various kinds of objects, and you’ll see that they are not the same and that chemistry cannot explain the whole of man. The rock is explained by inorganic chemistry. Rocks are acted upon; they do not act. There is no principle in them to make them act. Dirt may pile on a rock and make it larger, but the rock does not feed on that earth. If a rock is cracked or smashed, it stays broken. And by no stretch of the imagination can you conceive of a little chip of a rock taking root and growing into another large rock. Nor can you conceive of the rock’s giving birth to a litter of little stones while it itself remains unchanged.

ALIVE

“Now let’s glance at the tree under which the sheep are pasturing. That tree does things that the rock cannot possibly do. We say that it falls within the field of organic chemistry. The tree grows by taking into itself chemicals that it makes part of itself. It has the power of healing its own wounds, if those wounds are not fatal-as when some lover carves a heart and initials in its side or an automobile crashes into it and destroys branches and bark. And, finally, the tree drops seeds that are capable of becoming like the tree from which they fell.

“What is true of the rock is true of the chair in which our hostess sits. And what is true of the tree was true of our hostess’s roses until they were picked from their bush.

“Now let’s take a look at the sheep. The grass that they eat, they make part of themselves. A cut they receive from a barbed-wire fence is healed by the quick action of their own blood. And in time they will be nuzzling the little lambs that they have developed inside their bodies.

“And, again, what is true of the sheep is true of the cat.

INSTINCT

“Did you notice that cat enter the room, move towards the fire, single out his mistress-though she is wearing a new dress that he perhaps never saw before-and go where he knew he’d be petted and played with? Did you ever see a cat stalk a mouse? or hunt a bird? or protect its newborn kittens? or do any of the thousand other things that we call instinctive? Did you ever see an ant build its city? an oriole build its nest? a duck find its way from the north to the far south? a dog sniff his master and fawn upon him? a bear go into his hole for the winter?

“Now we maintain that these things that a tree does, but that a stone cannot do, show that the tree is alive and the stone dead. There is a life principle in the tree which makes the tree capable of actions that a stone could never perform. We see that cats and sheep have instincts that no tree or plant possesses. Hence there is some principle in animals which makes them different from vegetation. We watch effects, and we see that those in the animal are so different from those in vegetation that we conclude that the cause must be different. We recognise the doctor’s medical knowledge by watching him act. We recognise the life principle in a tree by observing the effects in that tree. When we watch a dog in action, we know that a dog differs from a tree. And in each case we come to know the cause from the effects we see. Remember that a principle really means a source, a cause, a beginning. Clear?”

EASY TO SEE, BUT -,

They all seemed to take a deep breath. Father Hall laughed with them. The thing was fundamentally simple, the sort of thing one recognised just by looking at it. It was not easy to make easy things seem easier. Anybody looking at a lizard knew it was different from a rosebush, just as a cow surely was different from the moon over which it jumped, and Jack’s dog different from the beanstalk that Jack climbed.

Father Hall wondered whether he had made it clear that chemically these apparently different things were not vastly different. Yet what they did was so different that some essential principle in each of them must make them different-the rosebush different from the rock, the lizard very different from the rosebush it used for its sunny promenades. “May I go on?” he asked, at last.

They nodded.

WE COME TO MAN

“Now, looking at the shepherd on the rock more pleasantly, at Mrs. Bradley here, we find that both of them are capable of things that we never even vaguely associate with an animal, much less with a rock, a rose, or an oak tree.”

“Correct.” Mr. Bradley nod ded in agreement. “Do you know of a rock or a rose that ever threw a dish at its husband’s guiltless head?”

“How vulgar!” protested his wife. “Anyhow, if I had, I can assure you that the head would not have been guiltless.”

“Keep family squabbles out of this,” ordered McDermott, with authority. Imagine any wife throwing plates at a hus- band’s head and not hitting somebody else.”

“Never mind them, Father,” said Mrs. Bradley. “Tell me what I do that makes me so different.”

“Not merely so different, Mrs. Bradley, but so different from rocks, roses, and the kitten in your lap. The things you do are really very much the same as the things other human beings do.

ALL AND MORE

“You have, first of all, the essential chemicals of the mineral kingdom.

“You have the power of growth and healing and producing offspring like yourself, all of which is characteristic of the animal kingdom and the vegetable kingdom.

“You have instincts that are like the instincts of the dog and the cat.

“But everything that you have beyond that is different.

“For you are capable of thinking.”

“I”m glad you saved it by the word capable,” said Mr. Bradley.

You have free will,” continued Father Hall. “You find in your soul a divine discontent. And you are by nature a creator.

You want to create things, to fashion things, to be an artist, a builder -of anything from a knitted sweater to a great novel, from a glass of jelly to an aeroplane, from a suit to a symphony, from a miniature to a house of which you will be mistress.

“And these things make you very, very different from any mere animal that pastures in the fields or walks the roads or haunts the jungles of the earth.

THE SOMETHING MORE

“And because even the simplest and most primitive men have realised their ability to do these things and have recognised in themselves divine discontent and the desire to improve on earth, they have always known they were different. That is why they were so sure their body, which is akin to that of the animal, was not all. That is why they knew they had some principle which produced the effects we call thinking, willing, improving, creating. That is why men were so sure they had a soul.”

Suddenly, Kevin McDermott began to talk and the conversation became general. Kevin spoke of the Egyptian hieroglyphics he had seen in the Smithsonian, particularly the little soul of a man being weighed in a balance-scale by the god of the dead. His wife supplemented this by recalling that she had heard somewhere that the Greeks thought the soul was locatedin the brain, “living there in a kind of advanced penthouse,” she suggested. Evan Foster recalled out of some faint memory of his Latin studies that soul and spirit were the same word, and that spirit originally meant wind. And Dick added that “anima,” also a Latin word for soul, originally meant breeze.

SOUL AND BREATH

“That’s not too difficult to explain,” said Father Hall. “The Greeks and the Romans both knew that at the moment of death the principle by which the body thought, willed, was discontent, and capable of creation departed. Its departure was precisely what made the body dead, and hence different from a living body. They noticed that at the very end there was a final sigh, a sort of last breath, like the passing of a wind from the mouth of the dying man. That, they thought, might be the soul departing. So they used to signify soul by both “spiritus” and “anima,” a natural enough mistake, but a rather beautiful one. At least, it indicates very clearly that these early people were sure that something in them was beyond and different from the body.”

“But, of course, they were wrong,” was Kevin McDermott’s comment. “And since they were wrong about the thing that makes man different, isn’t it possible that they were wrong about man’s being different at all?”

Father Hall shook his head.

“They knew from what Man did that he must have something that distinguishes him from other creatures that have bodies not much unlike his own. Some principle . . .”

WHAT MAKES IT WORK?

Little Mrs. McDermott sighed wistfully.

“That principle you talk about . . . it’s not clear to me.”

They could feel Father Hall rummaging around in his mind for some comparison. The quick light that flashed in his eyes told them that he had found it. They sat waiting.

“A number of years ago the magician, Hermann the Great, had a marvellous clock. It was made of transparent glass with a brass pivot in the centre. Around the edges of the face were figures that ran like the figures of any clock, from one to twelve. Hermann would take a minute hand and stick it on the pivot. Then the audience was asked to mention any date in history; let’s say someone mentioned October 17, 1833. Hermann spun the minute hand, and when it stopped, it pointed to the number that corresponded to the day of the week on which that date had fallen.

“Now anyone watching that clock knew very clearly that the glass and brass couldn’t make a calculation like that. I saw the clock at close range and could see nothing that might point to an explanation of how it worked. Yet it demanded that someone do a fairly complicated bit of calendar research. Then it was someone with a mind that had to stop that hand at the right number. Who? What?”

TOO SIMPLE

“Well, the trick didn’t hold its place on Hermann’s programme very long, because it really was too simple. Off stage there was an assistant who had the necessary information and charts before him. He also had a series of electrical connections, one attached to each of the numbers. A person in the audience shouted out a date. As Hermann placed the minute hand on the pivot, the assistant consulted the proper chart and found the correct day of the week. Hermann spun the hand. The assistant touched the connection that shot electricity into the correct number, and by the power of electromagnetism the hand was stopped dead on the correct number.”

“How ridiculously simple!” exclaimed Mrs. Foster.

“Yes; isn’t it? But the audience saw only the glass-and-brass clock. They had to argue to a principle that they could not see, a principle which did two things: From a given date it calculated the day on which that date fell, and it exercised some force that stopped the clock.”

IT NEEDED A PRINCIPLE

“Don’t look at me. when you say that stopped-theclock stuff,” thundered the host.

“We’ll ignore that outburst” said Father Hall, mildly. “The audience knew that glass and brass can’t reason, calculate, or will. So there had to be some principle-even though they didn’t know what it was-that thought and willed. Simple, but no more simple than the reasoning process that taught men that chemical elements, however complicated, don’t think or will, and that there must be some principle capable of performing these extremely difficult processes.”

“Then,” said Mr. Bradley, feeling he had started all this and should come into the picture seriously, “all men, looking at their own bodies and comparing them with the non-thinking stone, the non-feeling tree, the non-rational animal, argued that they themselves must surely have a principle that thought and willed, was not part of their body, and lived even after their body had died. Correct?”

“Correct,” agreed Father Hall.

“Interesting, but that still doesn’t prove anything, does it? There may be other explanations.

THE PROCESS CALLED THINKING

“Just a minute,” said Father Hall. “Let’s look at this process called thinking.”

“This is going to be a novel experience for my wife,” gibed Evan Foster.

“Darling,” retorted his wife, “as long as there’s a powerful mind like yours in the family, I can feel free to devote myself to the sole business of being beautiful.”

“Modest little thing, isn’t she?” demanded Mr. Foster of the company in general.

“Go on with your thinking processes,” urged Mrs. Bradley, and Father Hall resumed.

A WRITER AT WORK

“Let’s say that a writer is sitting at his desk, deep in the process of creating a book. Now, creating is hardly the correct word, for creating means making something out of nothing-”

“Whereas too many writers make nothing out of something,” broke in Kevin McDermott, who evidently didn’t like some of the modern writers.

“No; that’s not what I was going to say,” continued Father Hall. “A writer doesn’t make something out of nothing, but he does make something out of a good many other somethings. You see, writing a book is a most elaborate process. The author draws on his memory; he uses some of his own experiences; he refers to books he has read and observes the actions of people in various localities; he puts together words the meanings of which he has learned in a thousand different ways. And when he is finished, this one man has built out of a thousand different sources a unit which is his book.

“That’s a pretty elaborate process. We can reduce it to something that looks simpler, but really isn’t. Will somebody here give me a sentence?”

WANTED: A SENTENCE

They all thought elaborately. You could almost hear the wheels going round.

Mr. Bradley walked over to the table and picked up the evening newspaper. He turned to the editorial page. “How’s this?” he demanded, and read aloud: ““Man’s liberty is so much the white light of his life, the greatest gift of

God, that we feel like crying aloud, ‘let’s fight for it!’”

They all applauded the oratorical way in which he had read it.

“Dad ought to run for Congress,” whispered Sue, audibly.

“Senate or nothing,” retorted her twin.

“Excellent,” cried the priest. And with that remarkable memory that he sometimes displayed, he repeated the sentence verbatim.

““Man’s liberty is so much the white light of his life, the greatest gift of God, that we feel like crying aloud, “Let’s fight for it!”“

They all meditated on the sentence quickly.

“Now,” said the priest, “the human brain is not unlike an intricate filing case. Into the various sections a man slips the experiences of his life, sounds, colours, nouns, verbs, pains, pleasures, motor reflexes that he has developed through practice. Part of his brain is working while he is talking, another part when he walks. The brain is so compartmented that injury to it often results in queer twists. One small sector of the brain is hurt, and suddenly the man can’t distinguish colours, or he loses thepower to recall nouns.”

“Like Alice in the mysterious woods,” interposed Sue. “She couldn’t even remember the noun tree. Remember?” “Sh-sh!” hissed her twin, and she “sh-shed.”

PIGEONHOLES

“Really, the brain is like a desk full of pigeonholes, and the more the specialists come to know about the brain, the better are they able to localise in definite sections definite types of memories, experiences, factual data, and the like. “Now, let’s go back to our author for a minute. Let’s say that he is sitting before a desk that has pigeonholes. His filing cabinets are along the wall. He keeps notebooks in which he jots down names, descriptions, bits of unusual conversations that he means to use in his book. He goes to work on that book. Let’s watch him: He pulls some notes out of a cubbyhole; he roots around until he gets precisely what he wants out of a file; he thumbs through his notebooks in search of data; he goes to his library and jerks a quotation out of a book.

“Then he, the one person, puts all this together and makes the one, unified, coherent, logical book, a book so uniquely his own that, by observing its style, we know precisely who wrote it.

QUITE A PROCESS

“Now, let’s take that sentence again. It’s really an excellent one. To put that sen tence together, the man who wrote it and we who understood it had to pull a deal of things out of our minds.

“First, we pulled some nouns: man, liberty, light, life, gift, God, and so on.

“Then from another part of our brain we jerked the colour white and our experience with light.

“From our auditory memory, our memory of sounds, we pulled the idea of crying aloud.

“We have never seen God, but we pulled out a concept of Him.

“And, finally, we issued a call to battle, to do something about it, to get the good old will in operation: “Let’s fight for it!””

PACKED

“Why,” cried Sheila Foster, “I hadn’t any idea that sentence had so much in it.”

“Trust me to find a good one, just the right one in fact,” boasted her host.

Father Hall looked at them with a sharply questioning glance.

“Our author was the only one who corn-piled all the data in his book. All right. Who compiled all the data we’ve just checked over in that one sentence?”

“Why, the writer of the editorial of course. And you and I.” Mrs. Bradley sounded just a little impatient. “Which part of the author? Which part of you? From various parts of your brain; from various emotional experiences something pulled together into a single sentence the most varied ideas, concepts, brain phantasms. Who? What?” “Still a little foggy,” said Mrs. McDermott, wrinkling her brow.

WORDS INTO MESSAGES

“Let’s take another comparison,” said the priest. “You’ve seen teletype machines in telegraph offices. Over the wire comes a message. It is printed out word by word. It rolls out of the machine and into a basket. But it becomes a message only when someone picks it up and reads it, putting the words together to make a completed piece of news.

“All right. The words are lying around up there in your brain; phantasms, we call them. What power in you puts these phantasms together into a message? What power takes out of the different compartments of your brain experiences, colours, sounds, words, and so on, and unites them into one logical, intelligible message?

“We call that power the soul. And unless you grant the existence of the soul, it is simply impossible to explain how the author of that sentence managed to convey sense, and it is impossible to explain the fact that we can listen to or read separate words and unite them into a single, clear sentence.

“But if we have a soul that acts like the author who pul ls out of the filing cabinet of his brain memories, experiences, impressions, words, pictures, then everything is simple. The soul is the power by which we think. It is the principle of unity that pulls all our scattered experiences together into intelligible thoughts. It is the real author of our books and our sentences. It is the source of our intelligent thinking.”

CHEMICAL BRAIN

“Hey!” demanded Evan Foster. “Why couldn’t it be the brain that does the thinking?”

“Why couldn’t the filing cabinet put the novel together without any help from the novelist?”

“Tain’t the same. The brain is alive. The filing cabinet is dead, inanimate.”

“Our brain is still essentially a composite of chemicals. More than that; the various parts of the brain are very much parts -that is, they are separated one from another. There has to be some power, some faculty that pulls together into one spot, one sentence, one idea, one judgment or message that lies in these various parts. The author is the power that pulls the parts from his filing cabinets and makes his unified book. The soul is the power that unifies what lies in our brain, which is our most elaborate but widelyextended filing case.”

“I suppose that’s why while we say, “my heart beats” and “my feet dance,” we say simply, “I think,”” suggested Mr.

Bradley.

“Correct.”

“But we say, “I dance,” too,” corrected Dick.

“Quite right,” said the priest. “Thinking is particularly applied to the soul, to the essential someone that is I. We don’t say, “my brain thinks.” But because the soul in man is not only the principle of his thought processes, but the principle of all hisvital activities, the source of his natural life, we simply say, “I dance” or “I walk” and even “I sleep,” though we know it is primarily our feet that dance and walk and our body that sleeps.”

*******

Have You A Soul? 2

PART 2: A SERMON

BY REV DANIEL A. LORD S.J

INDEX

“For what does it profit a man, if he gain the whole world, and suffer the loss of his own soul? Or what exchange shall a man give for his soul?” (Matthew 16:26)

Father Hall had mounted the familiar and venerable pulpit in his small but up-lifting Parish Church. He had just declaimed this stirring passage from the Gospel of Saint Matthew and quoted the Divine Saviour’s words.

He went on: “My dearly beloved people, not long ago, I was at a small dinner party with a mixed group of Catholics, when, as it does, the conversation turned to matters that had something to do with religion. It was a devout Catholic who put an interesting dilemma to the group.

HORRIBLE THOUGHT

“He said, “I”ve had a horrible thought.” Yes? “I”m darned if I know whether or not I”ve a soul.” “He went on, “Now. I don’t doubt that I have a soul; in fact, I”m convinced that I have one. What I meant was this:

If anybody stopped me in the street and said, “Look here, o ld man, how do you go about proving that you have a soul?” I”d be as dumb as a turtle.”

“What about you, my dear friends? Would you be in the same situation?

“Oh, but you might say “Doesn’t the Bible prove that we have a soul?” “Didn’t Our Lord tell us to save our souls? Didn’t He die so that we wouldn’t lose them? That’s enough to satisfy me.”

“That’s all very good, but, sadly it is hardly enough to satisfy the enquiring mind of a genuine truth-seeker amongst the men in the street, now, is it? Because it involves us in a vicious circle. We believe something mentioned in the Bible and we prove that this something is real by quoting the Bible. No we need something more.

“You might reply, “I just accept the fact. Why should you want to prove it?”

“As one of the others present pointed out the answer to that question, “Because, so darn many people think they have no soul. At least, they say that they haven’t one. Materialists is what they call them.”

“At that point in the discussion the group lapsed into a moment’s silence. It really did seem silly to think that while they were, like all good Catholics, busy trying to save their souls, in the face of the thousands of people who claimed that there were no such things as souls, they couldn’t even prove that they had one.

“Was there any logical proof? Or did they simply have to take God’s word for the soul’s existence?

“Let me share some of the discussion that followed.

“I began by saying, “Well, I’m not surprised.”

“Not surprised that no one in this crowd of educated Catholics could—in a pinch prove that he has a soul. Of course, one of these days the young people here will be studying in their Catholic-college psychology class the proofs for the existence of the soul. But I”m sometimes amazed when I realise how many people there are who get callouses on their knees, saving souls whose existence they accept on faith, and how many there are who have never even stopped to wonder whether they could prove from reason that they have a soul to save. It’s one of the startling phenomena of Catholic thinking or shall we call it Catholic lack of thinking?”

CAN IT BE PROVED?

“Can it be proved from reason that we have a soul?”

“Certainly it can be proved. Why the Bible is built up around the fact of a human soul. Genesis recounts the story of God’s breathing into the newly formed body of man “a living soul”, thus making him in the image of his Maker; the Gospels end with the stories of Christ’s sending the Apostles into the whole world to save souls and to bring them into the eternal kingdom of heaven, where, while the bodies lay sleeping in the earth, the souls would be endlessly happy—‘this day you will be with me in Paradise”. From beginning to end the Bible accepts the soul as the second great reality. The first reality is God. The second is the human soul.

“But that’s only the beginning; or, rather, to put it more accurately, it’s a mere confirmation of something that me n would know and understand about themselves even if there were no Bible. You see, human history is certainly clear on at least this one point: that the vast majority of all men of all times have believed that they have something that is beyond and above and independent of- to some extent- the body.

SEPARATED BY DEATH

“The fact of death was and is inescapable. And even the primitives, the Egyptians and the Assyrians and the prehistoric men and the American Indians, laid their dead in some kind of grave. But though the bodies were dead and though everyone had learned from grim and often unpleasant experience how swiftly bodies decayed and became once more part of the earth, none of these people thought that with burial came the end of their dear relatives and friends. Somewhere in another world these dead continued to exist, somewhere where they could eat the food that was placed on their graves or could hunt and talk or could enjoy some sort of paradise or be punished in some sort of hell.

“The dead bodies were there, rotting; that was obvious. But something that was not the body was judged in the moments that followed death, judged because it was the more important part of a man, the part that had been responsible for his goodness or his badness.

VARIOUS NAMES

“Perhaps not all of these people called this something a soul. But all of them, from the cave men to the pagans of modern Jamaica, who “capture” the souls of their dead in little boxes as they escape from the dead bodies—all men were convinced that there was something in a man that was not his body, something that was superior to his body and was so independent of his body that after the body was dead that something went on living a life that was even more complete than the life it had lived while it was incased in the body. In fact, that something was so tremendously important that it was punished or rewarded according as the man lived a bad or a good life.

“Evidently this something was the thing that made man.

“So, you see, belief in souls is an historic tradition. The Bible is meaningless unless souls do exist. But so is human history and human selfanalysis.”

THEY MADE OTHER MISTAKES, SO -

“Now to this line of thinking I was immediately confronted with someone objecting, “Oh, we’ve given up believing in so many things in which people always used to believe—fairies and ghosts and the sun’s moving round the earth. . . . That argument doesn’t impress me too much.”

“And I must admit that I nodded in partial agreement.

“But I had to point out, “The fact that a great many people agree on a thing doesn’t necessarily prove that the thing is right, unless—please note this- unless their reasons for agreeing on it are compelling, satisfactory reasons.”

“In the case of the “soul” the reasons are satisfactory!”

CLEAR OBSERVATION

“Perfectly so! You see, long before there were laboratories, men did quite a bit of observing. Sometimes I”m inclined to think that men did more observing along some lines before the invention of microscopes than men have done since that time. Our God is a God of Science AND of Revelation. So like all good Catholics, I believe in science, but I don’t believe in all scientists.

“Science is wonderful. But often scientists are men who know so much about one thing that they are absolutely blind to everything else.”

DIFFERENT FROM ANIMALS

“Well, it didn’t take a heap of acute observing to make men—even very primitive men—realise that they were more than a little different from the animals around them. The tiger might be far more powerful physically than men were, but men had something inside themselves, some cleverness, some mastery of skill, that let them outwit the tiger that could knock them cold with a biff of its paw. Men could build traps. They might be afraid to meet a gorilla in the jungles, but they would have hooted at the suggestion that some gorilla was sitting down in a cave and drawing pictures of men on the wall. Men drew pictures of gorillas; by no stretch of fancy could they imagine gorillas drawing pictures of men.

“They found they had within themselves the power to learn to do almost anything that they saw the animals do. But the animals learned nothing from them. Men were not so swift as was the deer, but men could outwit and kill the deer. The elephant could crush a man with his trunk or his forefoot, but a man could dominate an elephant and force him into slavery. The bird’s nest was a masterpiece of adaptation, but men learned to build houses and temples and palaces that were not only highly serviceable but extraordinarily beautiful. And if anyone had suggested to a primitive tribe that it should invite an ape to sit as a fellow counsellor, or train a dog to act as court physician, or have a chimpanzee as troubadour of the tribe or a beaver as the official architect, men of that tribe would have laughed boisterous, savage laughter.

“Animals, they knew, were different from men. Everyone knew that they were different. They lacked something that man had. And that something lifted man so high above the entire kingdom of animals—strong, fleet, beautiful, clever though those animals were—that between a man and an animal there was no possibility of equality.

NOT THEIR BODIES

“Now these men were shrewd enough to realise that this superiority was not in their bodies. The deer could outrace any man. The elephant could outwork him. Unarmed, he dared not meet the lion or the gorilla. His hair was not so beautiful as was the plumage of the bird of paradise. His skin could not resist heat and cold and the darts of an enemy as could the skin of a hippo. No; it was not man’s body that made him different. Then what was it?

“Well, they argued quite logically—or so it seems to me—that if it wasn’t their bodies that made the difference, it was something beyond their bodies, something that they possessed in addition to their bodies, something the animals didn’t have. They called it their soul, or they gave it some other name. But whatever they called it, it was the thing that made them men and, making them men, made them masters.

“All you and I have to do is watch a man and an animal tackle any problem or meet in any sort of competition in which the man can use his full manhood and his complete abilities, and we are very much inclined to think that these old ancestors of ours were pretty smart.

WHAT A DIFFERENCE!

“In fact, I never read that some materialistic scientist is working to prove that there is no essential difference between a man and a monkey without thinking, “My friend, I”11 really be impressed when I hear that a monkey has set out to prove conclusively that there is no difference between a monkey and a man”. Our interest in monkeys is so different from the monkeys” lack of interest in us that that in itself is almost enough to prove that we are superior to monkeys.”

“Now to all this there was very quickly an immediate and obvious objection.

“It is said. “Of course, animals and men are different. Man’s brain is more complicated than that of an animal. We’re different, we human beings, because our structure is more elaborate. A monkey is more elaborate than a clam. An ape is more elaborate than an ant. And we are more elaborate than any of the animals. Doesn’t that elaborateness explain our superiority? Why drag in a metaphysical thing like a soul?”

A PRINCIPLE

“What is to be said of this? Firstly let me clear some ground. Don’t say metaphysical as if it were a nasty word. If so, you’ve been reading the wisecracking unbelievers too much. They don’t like the word metaphysical. But metaphysical is just a term that we apply to those things that we can’t touch or see. Liberty is something that nobody ever saw. It’s metaphysical; but, believe me, it’s a mighty important thing. Principles are metaphysical. Do you know what we mean here by a principle?

EXAMPLES

“Well let’s take up some examples to illustrate what I mean as I did in the discussion.

“Well, let’s say that a crowd of people, strangers to one another, are sitting in a railroad station. All of a sudden a number of things go wrong. A woman faints. A locomotive throttle refuses to budge. A man sitting on a bench grabs his forehead and enthusiastically starts to scribble on a piece of paper. Two men wax hot in argument; one hits the other, while a third man runs up and collars the first two.

YOU WATCH

“Now you are sitting in the station; you know no one there. You are simply watching. As the woman faints, a man runs up to her, pulls a stethoscope out of his pocket and expertly uses it, gives her something to drink, deftly manipulates her muscles, and presto! the woman is revived. What do you conclude about the man?”

“Why, obviously he’s a doctor,” so you’ll say, and you’ll be right!

“All right; let’s continue. When word comes that the locomotive throttle is stuck, a man jumps up, climbs into the cab, monkeys with a few gadgets, and lo! the throttle works. He is, clearly, an engineer.

“Let me continue. The man who runs up to the men that are arguing is a detective or off-duty police officer.

“And if another man appears on the scene and offers to get the two of them released then you could conclude that he is a lawyer if he isn’t a prominent but corrupt politician with a drag at the city hall.

JUDGED BY RESULTS

“In other words, we don’t know enough about what this last chap did or how he did it to be able to tell what he is. But in the other cases you knew precisely what each man was from watching- note this—what he did. It really is quite simple, so very simple.

“This is correct. It really is simple. But note: You did not see the doctor’s m edical knowledge; you just saw the man practising medicine. You did not see the engineer’s mechanical ability; you simply saw the man successfully monkeying with a machine. And monkeying is a very poor word there. For all the possible monkeying that a monkey could do wouldn’t get the machine fixed. The policeman made an arrest, but he couldn’t show you or the fighting pair his authority. And nobody could see the lawyer’s legal knowledge or the politician’s “pull”. You didn’t have to see those things. You saw what we call an effect, something done. You knew what was the cause of that effect, and that cause was the knowledge, skill, special ability of each man—which is roughly what we mean by a principle. Get it?

HOW ABOUT THE WRITER?

“What about the man who had been scribbling on the piece of paper? Suppose he threw it away in frustration and then you walked over and picked up the paper that he had thrown away. And it was a scrap of lovely poetry, clearly original. Then you would say, “I know he is a poet.”

“So we can see that by examining effects we can begin to see causes. By examining effects we acknowledge the world of Principles. We, and our primitive ancestors, have been examining various bodies and have concluded that a living human body has something extra, another principle or cause which helps to explain the difference effects that being a human involves.”

“So now we are looking at what?

BODIES

“Just a group or cluster of bodies, various kinds of them. In the visible world we have a wide range to pick from, haven’t we? Everything from pebbles to philosophers, from geraniums to germs to gems, from orchids to oysters, from crystals to butterflies and crypts and crustaceans.”

“Now let’s choose a few from this varied range of bodies and make a picture.

“A rock lies under a wide-reaching tree on the side of a hill; near it sheep are feeding, while on the rock sits a shepherd watching his sheep, counting the profits he’ll make when the ewes have lambed and out of the joy of his heart singing a song of his own contriving.

PASTORAL

“So, whether they were assembled by a pastoral painter or by our imagination, we have in one spot a rock, a tree, some sheep, and a shepherd. Each of these things is quite obviously very different from all the others. The rock lies there, slowly corroded by the passing storms and the heat of the sun. It is, as we say, inanimate. The sheep browse about; they feed on the grass, which is turned by the power of their digestion into flesh and bone and the curling wool upon their backs; they will breed lambs that will be reproductions of themselves, complete in all details; and if these sheep have some accident or other, a little care and nursing will make it possible for their health to be restored.

“Over them hangs the beautiful tree. Its roots reach far down into the soil, and the chemical elements that it pulls out of the earth are incorporated into its growing branches. It drops acorns to the ground, and these acorns are capable of becoming other trees. An axe may damage its bark, but if the damage is not too great, the wound will heal and the tree will continue to thrive.

SHEEP AND SHEPHERD

“Yet the sheep have things which the tree doesn’t have. The sheep recognise their master when he calls. They have a thousand instincts that they exercise without training or experience of any sort. They move about under the impulse of cold and heat and hunger and the desire for water. They follow their master with the fidelity of Mary’s famous lamb.

“Finally, we come to the man. He’s a poet at heart, a maker of songs. He sees the sheep as a means for making money, and for that reason he has decided to breed them. He sits in the shade and thinks of profit, of God, of the sheep he’ll have ten years from now (sheep that have no present existence), of love and beauty, the while he creates a new song out of the sounds that he’s heard around him.

THE CAT

“Or imagine a sleek Persian cat wandering into a living room. The cat moves towards the venerable old lady of the house sitting in her rocking chair, a rose corsage in her blouse, freshly picked from the garden, and, with a spring, the cat is in her lap and curls, purring, on her knee.

“Here you have a charming proof for the existence of the soul. There is the beautiful chair i n which she is sitting; there is the corsage of roses that she is wearing; there is the purring cat on her knee; and there is the lady herself.

“That comes close to being a fair summary of the visible world:

“The inanimate world. . . . . the chair.

“The vegetable world. . . . . the roses.

“The animal world. . . . . the cat.

“The world of human beings. . . . . the lady herself.

NINETY-EIGHT CENTS WORTH

“Now, as far as the chemical elements that go to make up the human parts of our two pictures—the shepherd on the hillside and the lady and her cat- there is not a great deal of difference. You remember the old chemical analysis of a man, don’t you? The fat in his body would make half a dozen bars of soap, the sulphur would furnish heads for a box of matches, the chalk would whitewash a chicken coop, the iron would make a “ten-penny nail”. I think the total value of my body, chemically speaking, is about ninetyeight cents in a 1940”s grocery store.

“Horrible? Yes; if that were all there was to it, it would be horrible. And, according to the men who deny that man has a soul, that is all, and it is horrible.

NOT THE SAME

“But all you have to do is study the various kinds of objects, and you’ll see that they are not the same and that chemistry cannot explain the whole of man. The rock is explained by inorganic chemistry. Rocks are acted upon; they do not act. There is no principle in them to make them act. Dirt may pile on a rock and make it larger, but the rock does not feed on that earth. If a rock is cracked or smashed, it stays broken. And by no stretch of the imagination can you conceive of a little chip of a rock taking root and growing into another large rock. Nor can you conceive of the rock’s giving birth to a litter of little stones while it itself remains unchanged.

ALIVE

“Now let’s glance at the tree under which the sheep are pasturing. That tree does things that the rock cannot possibly do. We say that it falls within the field of organic chemistry. The tree grows by taking into itself chemicals that it makes part of itself. It has the power of healing its own wounds, if those wounds are not fatal- as when some lover carves a heart and initials in its side or an automobile crashes into it and destroys branches and bark. And, finally, the tree drops seeds that are capable of becoming like the tree from which they fell.

“What is true of the rock is true of the chair in which the little lady is sitting. And what is true of the tree was true of her roses until they were picked from their bush.

“Now let’s take a look at the sheep. The grass that they eat, they make part of themselves. A cut they receive from a barbed-wire fence is healed by the quick action of their own blood. And in time they will be nuzzling the little lambs that they have developed inside their bodies.

“And, again, what is true of the sheep is true of the cat.

INSTINCT

“Did you notice with your mind’s eye that the cat entered the room, moved towards the fire, singled out his mistress—though she is wearing a new dress that he perhaps never saw before—and go where he knew he’d be petted and played with? Did you ever see a cat stalk a mouse? or hunt a bird? or protect its newborn kittens? or do any of the thousand other things that we call instinctive? Did you ever see an ant build its city? an oriole build its nest? a duck find its way from the north to the far south? a dog sniff his master and fawn upon him? a bear go into his hole for the winter?

“Now we maintain that these things that a tree does, but that a stone cannot do, show that the tree is alive and the stone dead. There is a life principle in the tree which makes the tree capable of actions that a stone could never perform. We see that cats and sheep have instincts that no tree or plant possesses. Hence there is some principle in animals which makes them different from vegetation. We watch effects, and we see that those in the animal are so different from those in vegetation that we conclude that the cause must be different. We recognise thedoctor’s medical knowledge by watching him act. We recognise the life principle in a tree by observing the effects in that tree. When we watch a dog in action, we know that a dog differs from a tree. And in each case we come to know the cause from the effects we see. Remember that a principle really means a source, a cause, a beginning. Clear?

EASY TO SEE, BUT -,

“The thing is fundamentally simple, the sort of thing one recognised just by looking at it. It is not easy to make easy things seem easier. Anybody looking at a lizard knows it is different from a rosebush, just as a cow surely is different from the moon over which it jumped, and Jack’s dog different from the beanstalk that Jack climbed.

“Surely I have made it clear that chemically these apparen tly different things were not vastly different. Yet what they did was so different that some essential principle in each of them must make them different- the rosebush different from the rock, the lizard very different from the rosebush it used for its sunny promenades.

WE COME TO MAN

“Now, looking at the shepherd on the rock more pleasantly, at the lady with her cat, we find that both of them are capable of things that we never even vaguely associate with an animal, much less with a rock, a rose, or an oak tree.

“Do you know of a rock or a rose that ever threw a dish at its husband’s head if he had said something inappropriate?

“Now can you tell me what humans, you humans, us humans, do that makes them so different?

“And not merely so different, but so different from rocks, roses, and the kittens which might purr in your lap. The things you do are really very much the same as the things other human beings do.

ALL AND MORE

“You have, first of all, the essential chemicals of the mineral kingdom.

“You have the power of growth and healing and producing offspring like yourself, all of which is characteristic of the animal kingdom and the vegetable kingdom.

“You have instincts that are like the instincts of the dog and the cat.

“But everything that you have beyond that is different.

“For you are capable of thinking.

“You have free will. You find inside yourself, or in your soul, a divine discontent. And you are by nature a creator.

You want to create things, to fashion things, to be an artist, a builder—of anything from a knitted sweater to a great novel, from a glass of jelly to an aeroplane, from a suit to a symphony, from a miniature to a house of which you will be mistress or master.

“And these things make you very, very different from any mere animal that pastures in the fields or walks the roads or haunts the jungles of the earth.

THE SOMETHING MORE

“And because even the simplest and most primitive men have realised their ability to do these things and have recognised in themselves divine discontent and the desire to improve on earth, they have always known they were different. That is why they were so sure their body, which is akin to that of the animal, was not all. That is why they knew they had some principle which produced the effects we call thinking, willing, improving, creating. That is why men were so sure they had a soul.

“We could speak here of the Egyptian hieroglyphics we can see in the Smithsonia n, particularly the little soul of a man being weighed in a balance-scale by the god of the dead. We can recall that we have heard that the Greeks thought the soul was located in the brain, “living there in a kind of advanced penthouse.” Our Latin studies show us that soul and spirit were the same word, and that spirit originally meant wind. “Anima,” also a Latin word for soul, originally meant breeze.

SOUL AND BREATH

“This is not too difficult to explain. The Greeks and the Romans both knew that at the moment of death the principle by which the body thought, willed, was discontent, and capable of creation departed. Its departure was precisely what made the body dead, and hence different from a living body. They noticed that at the very end there was a final sigh, a sort of last breath, like the passing of a wind from the mouth of the dying man. That, they thought, might be the soul departing. So they used to signify soul by both “spiritus” and “anima”, a natural enough mistake, but a rather beautiful one. At least, it indicates very clearly that these early people were sure that something in them was beyond and different from the body.

“But, of course, they were wrong about that, since the soul is not equivalent to our mere breath. But they knew from what Man did that he must have something that distinguishes him from other creatures that have bodies not much unlike his own. Some principle in fact. Something we Christians call the Soul.

WHAT MAKES IT WORK?

“That principle we talk about may not yet be clear to you. So let us examine it further.

“A number of years ago the magician, Hermann the Great, had a marvellous clock. It was made of transparent glass with a brass pivot in the centre. Around the edges of the face were figures that ran like the figures of any clock, from one to twelve. Hermann would take a minute hand and stick it on the pivot. Then the audience was asked to mention any date in history; let’s say someone mentioned October 17, 1833. Hermann spun the minute hand, and when it stopped, it pointed to the number that corresponded to the day of the week on which that date had fallen.

“Now anyone watching that clock knew very clearly that the glass and brass couldn’t make a calculation like that. I saw the clock at close range and could see nothing that might point to an explanation of how it worked. Yet it demanded that someone do a fairly complicated bit of calendar research. Then it was someone with a mind that had to stop that hand at the right number. Who? What?

TOO SIMPLE

“Well, the trick didn’t hold its place on Hermann’s programme very long, because it really was too simple. Off stage there was an assistant who had the necessary information and charts before him. He also had a series of electrical connections, one attached to each of the numbers. A person in the audience shouted out a date. As Hermann placed the minute hand on the pivot, the assistant consulted the proper chart and found the correct day of the week. Hermann spun the hand. The assistant touched the connection that shot electricity into the correct number, and by the power of electromagnetism the hand was stopped dead on the correct number.”

“Well might you say, “How ridiculously simple!”

“Yes; isn’t it? But the audience saw only the glass-and-brass clock. They had to argue to a principle that they could not see, a principle which did two things: From a given date it calculated the day on which that date fell, and it exercised some force that stopped the clock.”

IT NEEDED A PRINCIPLE

“The audience knew that glass and brass can’t reason, calculate, or will. So there had to be some principle—even though they didn’t know what it was—that thought and willed. Simple, but no more simple than the reasoning process that taught men that chemical elements, however complicated, don’t think or will, and that there must be some principle capable of performing these extremely difficult processes.

“Then, all men, looking at their own bodies and comparing them with the non -thinking stone, the non-feeling tree, the non-rational animal, argued that they themselves must surely have a principle that thought and willed, was not part of their body, and lived even after their body had died. Correct?

“But now you might be tempted to say, “Interesting, but that still doesn’t prove anything, does it? There may be other explanations.”

THE PROCESS CALLED THINKING

“But just a minute. Let’s look at this process called thinking.

A WRITER AT WORK

“Let’s say that a writer is sitting at his desk, deep in the process of creating a book. Now, creating is hardly the correct word, for creating means making something out of nothing- whereas too many writers make nothing out of something. I”m having a little joke here.

“A writer doesn’t make something out of nothing, but he does make s omething out of a good many other somethings. You see, writing a book is a most elaborate process. The author draws on his memory; he uses some of his own experiences; he refers to books he has read and observes the actions of people in various localities; he puts together words the meanings of which he has learned in a thousand different ways. And when he is finished, this one man has built out of a thousand different sources a unit which is his book.

“That’s a pretty elaborate process. We can reduce it to something that looks simpler, but really isn’t.

WANTED: A SENTENCE

“Let’s take a “simple” sentence, from an editorial:

“Man’s liberty is so much the white light of his life, the greatest gift of God, that we feel like crying aloud, ‘let’s fight for it!” and so we should.”

“Now, the human brain is not unlike an intricate filing case. Into the various sections a man slips the experiences of his life, sounds, colours, nouns, verbs, pains, pleasures, motor reflexes that he has developed through practice. Part of his brain is working while he is talking, another part when he walks. The brain is so compartmented that injury to it often results in queer twists. One small sector of the brain is hurt, and suddenly the man can’t distinguish colours, or he loses the power to recall nouns. Like Alice in the mysterious woods. She couldn’t even remember the noun tree.

PIGEONHOLES

“Really, the brain is like a desk full of pigeonholes, and the more the specialists come to know about the brain, the better are they able to localise in definite sections definite types of memories, experiences, factual data, and the like.

“Now, let’s go back to our author for a minute. Let’s say that he is sitting before a desk that has pigeonholes. His filing cabinets are along the wall. He keeps notebooks in which he jots down names, descriptions, bits of unusual conversations that he means to use in his book. He goes to work on that book. Let’s watch him: He pulls some notes out of a cubbyhole; he roots around until he gets precisely what he wants out of a file; he thumbs through his notebooks in search of data; he goes to his library and jerks a quotation out of a book.

“Then he, the one person, puts all this together and makes the one, unified, coherent, logical book, a book so uniquely his own that, by observing its style, we know precisely who wrote it.

QUITE A PROCESS

“Now, let’s take that sentence again. It’s really an excellent one. To put that sentence together, the man who wrote it and we who understood it had to pull a deal of things out of our minds.

“First, we pulled some nouns: man, liberty, light, life, gift, God, and so on.

“Then from another part of our brain we jerked the colour white and our experience with light.

“From our auditory memory, our memory of sounds, we pulled the idea of crying aloud.

“We have never seen God, but we pulled out a concept of Him.

“And, finally, we issued a call to battle, to do something about it, to get the good old will in operation: “Let’s fight for it!” Remember?

PACKED

“Our author was the only one who compiled all the data in his book. All right. Who compiled all the data we’ve just checked over in that one sentence?

“Why, the writer of the editorial of course. And you and I, the listeners.

“But which part of the author? Which part of you? From various parts of your brain; from various emotional experiences something pulled together into a single sentence the most varied ideas, concepts, brain phantasms. Who? What?

“Are you still a little foggy? Here is a clue. The unifying principle is called the soul.

WORDS INTO MESSAGES

“Let’s take another comparison. You’ve seen teletype machines in telegraph offices. Over the wire comes a message. It is printed out word by word. It rolls out of the machine and into a basket. But it becomes a message only when someone picks it up and reads it, putting the words together to make a completed piece of news.

“All right. The words are lying around up there in your brain; phantasms, we call them. Wha t power in you puts these phantasms together into a message? What power takes out of the different compartments of your brain experiences, colours, sounds, words, and so on, and unites them into one logical, intelligible message?

“We call that power the soul. And unless you grant the existence of the soul, it is simply impossible to explain how the author of that sentence managed to convey sense, and it is impossible to explain the fact that we can listen to or read separate words and unite them into a single, clear sentence.

“But if we have a soul that acts like the author who pulls out of the filing cabinet of his brain memories, experiences, impressions, words, pictures, then everything is simple. The soul is the power by which we think. It is the principle of unity that pulls all our scattered experiences together into intelligible thoughts. It is the real author of our books and our sentences. It is the source of our intelligent thinking.

CHEMICAL BRAIN

“But hey! you will soon find yourself asking, why couldn’t it be the brain that does the thinking? “I will answer: “Why couldn’t the filing cabinet put the novel together without any help from the novelist?” “You’ll then reply: “No. that’s not the same. The brain is alive. The filing cabinet is dead, inanimate.” “Ah, but our brain is still essentially a composite of chemicals, “dead,” inanimate chemicals. More than that; the various parts of the brain are very much parts—that is, they are separated one from another. There has to be some power, some faculty that pulls together into one spot, one sentence, one idea, one judgment or message that lies in these various parts. The author is the power that pulls the parts from his filing cabinets and makes his unified book. The soul is the power that unifies what lies in our brain, which is our most elaborate but widely-extended filing case.

“I suppose that’s why while we say, “my heart beats” and “my feet dance”, we say simply, “I think”. “But while we can say, “I dance”, thinking is particularly applied to the soul, to the essential someone that is I. We don’t say, “my brain thinks”. But because the soul in man is not only the principle of his thought processes, but the principle of all his vital activities, the source ofhis natural life, we simply say, “I dance” or “I walk” and even “I sleep”, though we know it is primarily our feet that dance and walk and our body that sleeps.

“In other words, “I” am my soul. “I” tell my feet to dance . . . And I dance! “I” tell my feet to walk . . . And I walk! “I” decide to go to bed to sleep . . . And I sleep!

A NEW PROOF

“Notice that I mentioned deciding to go to bed. This raises the whole subject of our Wills. The fact that we have a will is another proof that we have a soul. “Thinking” is one proof for the existence of the soul, the unifying principle another, and “choosing” is yet another.

“I have given you all a lot to think about and you might need a little time to digest it all.

THE SOUL NOT A “FUNCTION OF MATTER”

“So, what ground is there, in reason, for believing that the soul is anything but a “function of matter,” or that it survives death?

“Scientists tell us that our mental processes are all conditioned by the motions of atoms in our brains: we all know that the action of what we call our “immaterial” part is strictly dependent upon the state of our bodies. All our thinking is based on sense-perceptions which we gain through the body: and our state of mind depends largely on the state of our health, our physical habits, age, and so on. Accidental changes in physical structure, may transform a sane man into a melancholic, a victim of sex-mania or a criminal lunatic. Our mind grows with our body, works through our body, and ceases to work when it sleeps; it is affected by its ills and old age. Why shouldn’t we believe, then, that it is a “function of matter” which perishes when the material body dies?”

“This is the case of the pure materialist—that what we call “mental phenomena” are simply due to a lot of chemical changes. Of course, nobody in their senses is going to deny the observed facts which prove that the mind gains its impressions and expresses itself through the body, so that physical defects often involve defects of impression and expression. If a pianois out of tune, or has dumb notes, I can’t play a Beethoven Sonata decently on it, however great a musician I am: but that doesn’t prove that the music is “a function of the piano” and that there isn’t any musician. And if the piano was closed, or smashed, or burnt, the player would still be alive, wouldn’t he? And he might find other means of uttering his melodies, even if he had no piano?

“So, the body is the instrument, the soul the player, so to speak. Do I really need to drag in the notion of a governing, immaterial soul?

PURE MATERIALISM REFUTES ITSELF

“Yes indeed. Let’s suppose that we are just matter, as some suggest, and our thoughts are just chemical processes in the brain. I believe that the world is round: a planet moving round the sun. You, on the contrary, are an unenlightened person, like the late President Kruger, of the Transvaal. You believe it’s flat, with the sky set over it like a soup-tureen. One of those beliefs is true and the other false—you agree?

“But let’s look a bit closer. What do those mental phenomena, those “beliefs” amount to? I have a chemical process in my brain which has produced one—you have a process which has produced the other. In what way, then, is one “truer” than the other? All you can say, as a materialist is that both exist as thought-processes.

“On the premises of materialism, I don’t see how you can even say that the “thought -processes” exist and mean anything; because that judgment itself is just a chemical product of your brain, and there’s no meaning in calling it “true” or “false.” And, in the final analysis, you can’t use any process of reasoning, or establish any fact whatever.

“Even the words “I have reason to suppose” has no meaning. In fact, the proposition that the mind is simply a material product refutes itself.

“It reminds me of a story I once read in a book about an artist-lunatic who wanted to paint the universe. When he finished his picture, he saw it wasn’t complete—you see, he was still outside the picture himself. So then, he painted himself in. But then, there was the “self” outside still distinct from the image in the picture and so the problem of finishing the picture could never be solved. In the same way, if we describe ourselves as “material beings” we give no account of our own belief or knowledge that this is true. We can’t be the matter and also the knowing that we are the matter.

“Now, if I can’t know my mind as matter, how can I know it as mind? When I think of myself, aren’t I making another “self” like our lunatic artist?

“No we are not. When the thinking subject is once admitted as something different from a mere chemical process, truth and reason have a real meaning: you can think thoughts and form judgments about either the material world or yourself. The mind is conscious and self-conscious, which means that it can double back and think of itself; and all the while it is aware that it is both the thinking subject and the object thought of- it isn’t just “painting a picture.” Incidentally, the fact that the mind can do this is another reason for believing that it is nonmaterial. “That is to say, no material action that we know has any resemblance to this action of the mind. A knife doesn’t cut itself, an eye doesn’t look at itself, a mouth doesn’t eat itself.

“ENERGY PATTERNED INTO WORLDS.”

“Thus, we seem to have got to the point of knowing definitely that mind isn’t just a by-product of matter. But couldn’t, some say, they be just different aspects of the same phenomenon—some stuff which isn’t either mental or material?

“A lot of scientists have got the notion that the distinction between mind and matter is what they call “departmental thinking.” They run together, it is said. Nature is “energy patterned into worlds,” and it includes purpose, working itself up into organic life and then into conscious, thinking life.

“But in that case, the lowest matter must be spiritual as well as material; because the original “stuff” of the universe must contain the mind which becomes manifest later. Such a position is untenable.

“You can’t have that, you know. The word “energy” that is here used is pinched from the material world—and applied to a quite different kind of activity- and the difference is quietly ignored. The idea of unconscious “power” and “energy” having purpose and aim is a lot of nonsense; and it’s only made plausible by slipping in words which suggest an Agent- a real mind—behind the scene. To call “mind” and “matter” the same thing is to use words which haven’t any real meaning. A real egg you can eat, and my thoughts about an egg remain as different as ever. And don’t chuck the word “evolution” at me, either—because it’s just another magic word which explains nothing at all. If you say matter and material energy engender life and mind in the course of a long and complicated process, it is like saying that if you leave a top hat standing around long enough its “purposive activity” will produce a rabbit—without the aid of a magician! Only one thing is apparent to me: that some people are desperately anxious to dispense with the magician somehow, even if they have to invent the weirdest fancies to do it! All this is an attempt to escape from the necessity of admitting the existence of God.

“Yes—the habit of “Theophobia” is pretty deeply-rooted in the thought of a number of our scientific thinkers but it’s not the sort of “Fear of God” which is the beginning of wisdom!

“Can you now see that mind and matter must be distinct?

LOOKING AT A PICTURE

“I just want to emphasise again that every attempt to translate the processes of thought into terms of mere matter makes nonsense. Consider the painter of a modernist picture, and a number of spectators looking at it. There’s the picture—an arrangement of colour on canvas. There’s the subject (say, a village street). Both these are undoubtedly material. Then there’s the thought of the artist as he originally conceived it—and as it grew in the course of the painting. Then there are the thoughts of the spectators- of whom three don’t understand it, one thinks it’s something else, one has a vague idea, and one has an understanding somewhere near the artist’s. How can all this be conveyed in terms either of a materialistic philosophy or one which regards mind and matter as one? All these thoughts are real, yet none of them affect the artist, or the picture by way of material modification. Are we to make one material object of the picture and all the thoughts about it- with their various accuracies and inaccuracies? Of course not.

“Consider how the human mind works. It can think of itself and it can also think of anything else in nature; it draws “universal ideas” from the world of matter, and thereby attains to knowledge of the world of reality and the laws that govern it. It can devise signs to preserve the records of the past: it can throw itself ahead to contemplate future possibilities. It can deal in forms which could never materialize—mental abstractions, mathematical symbols, and so forth.

THE CANDLE FLAME

“But, even if the mind is immaterial, as we have now established, need we suppose it to be undying? After all, it is born with the body and lives with it, gathering sense impressions as the raw material for it to work upon. Isn’t it, in effect, “extinguished like a candle flame, when the candle is worn down”?

“But once again, we’re comparing the action of the mind with something material to which it has no real resemblance. A candle flame is exactly what we showed that the mind wasn’t—the effect of a chemical process, which can continue only as long as there are suitable materials to be consumed—or transformed.”

A QUESTION OF IDENTITY

“At this point we’ve seen that the mind enables us, so to speak, to stand outside ourselves as spectators. Now I want you to look at this faculty a bit more closely. I think of myself, and I throw myself back into the past. I remember how I used to play alone in the spare-room at home, the first lessons I had from my mother: country holidays and school life as a boy: the friendships and troubles of adolescence: my life at University- sunny afternoons on the sports-fields; my army days and difficulties; my return after overseas service—life in the big city and then in the country, past happy days. I go into my room and turn over some old photographs- a family group: a boy in a sailor suit- that’s me. Again, a dishevelled looking youth with glasses and untidy hair—me again.

“Well—you may verily ask what is this, “Me”? I”ve changed my body—every cell of it- many times since the first “me” I remember, peeping over the table to look at a silver sphinx ornament on a fruit dish. My character has changed, too, and a lot of my opinions and tastes. But there’s something that hasn’t changed—a unity that has persisted through all this flow of physical changes and mental developments, linking them together. So, you see, I”m not just a “coagula”—a bundle of changing sensations and experiences. They dissolve, I remain the same.

GROWTH AND DECAY

“But, so it seems, your mind DOES grow—and is liable to decay, if you live to be old, before the end. “Yet think more carefully. What do we mean by “growth” and “decay” when we talk of the mind? Again, we’re using terms derived from the material world. The child’s mind “grows” not because it becomes bigger like its body, but because it gathers understanding and knowledge of itself and the world, and learns how to express itself through the body, and the instrument it uses is improving all the time. On the contrary, the old person’s mind “decays” because the instruments it uses are no longer working so well. The brain’s fatigue weakens attention—the sense perceptions grow weaker, the association between events is confused, and sometimes strange phantasmagoria of the brain stampede the processes of thought. That’s what we mean by “thinking badly” . . . The thinking subject is either there, or not there; we can’t think of it growing or decaying in the sense that the body does. And—this is the point- it can’t die after the fashion of the body, either.

HOW COULD THE SOUL DIE?

“The death of the body takes place when the material law of dissolution operates upon it. First, the physical organism no longer functions as a single entity; then it begins to fall apart and undergo transformation. Now this “breaking up” can’t happen to the mind, because there’s no material to be broken. We can’t suppose that it depends for its existence on the body, without making it a quality of the body or a “function of matter”—which, I think we agreed, leads us into absurdity. How, then, could it perish?

“Could it be annihilated?

“The first answer to that is that Nature does not know such a thing as “annihilation.” If you extinguish a candle flame, the elements composing it change their form, but they are still somewhere in the atmosphere. A burnt paper has become ash- a dead body enters, by degrees, into the substance of the earth, of plants, of other animal bodies as the time passes. The universe moves and changes- but nothing is utterly lost. What reason is there for making an exception of the human spirit? What could cause this “annihilation”? God could do it—couldn’t He?

“Theoretically, of course, He has the power to do so, but it is difficult to see what reason could lead Him to reverse the creative act in this particular case—and destroy mind after making it naturally immortal. If you have formed any clear idea of God—“the strength and stay of all creation,” and the ground of its ordered movement, irrational caprice of this kind will seem inconceivable in Him. And in any case, if anyone is a Theist, there are plenty of other reasons for believing in the immortality of the soul. I know, my good people, that you are more than Theists. You are devout Catholics. But it is useful to examine these subjects from the perspectives of those of your work-mates who do not have the faith.

CAN MINDS MERGE?

“So let’s admit that human reason can establish that the immaterial spirit survives the body. If I recall rightly, even J. B. S. Haldane, infidel as he is, is inclined to think that that is not improbable. Only he seems to think that the mind will lose its limitations and be merged in an “infinite mind” or something of the sort, which he suspects to exist behind Nature.

“This reminds me of Sir Edwin Arnold’s rhapsody about the Buddhist Nirvana- “The dewdrop slips into the shining sea.” As a poetical image, of course, Arnold’s line is very charming—but it doesn’t add much to our knowledge of the soul’s destiny. We know that material drops can slip into a great ocean—but the merging of immaterial minds into a great mind is another question entirely.

“First of all—what do we mean by “mind”? We have used it, up till now, pretty freely to describe thinking persons—ourselves and others. We speak of our mind or our reason instead of the thinking self, just as we speak of our will when we mean the self which wills and chooses or the imagination when we mean the self that imagines. But we have no right to solidify these abstractions as though they could exist unattached of their own accord. There is no such thing as a mind which is not the mind of a person- the “thinking” can’t just rush off on its own like a genie out of a bottle. Still less can it combine with a multitude of other thinkings to form a composite “infinite mind.” All that’s just false imagery, which we derive from material things like the sea or clouds, which have parts. If the spiritual being that thinks is wiped out as a person, then his mind is wiped out. If the mind is undying by nature, then the thinking person is also undying.

“But Christians, and all theists, believe in an Infinite Mind—“In whom we live and move and have our being.” “We believe in Infinite Wisdom, Will, Power, Truth, Goodness and Love—but all these attributes reside in the Infinite Being of a Personal God. All things live “within” in the sense of being held in existence by His creative power—but not in the sense that their being or not being adds or subtracts anything from His reality. My thinking self, my mind, is God-created: it is not part of God. God does not grow, or change, with the growth and changing of the universe.

“Finally, my dearly beloved brethren, now that we can see with what solid evidence human reason can bring forward as to the existence of the soul ,let us now conclude by soberly answering the question poised by Our Lord: “For what does it profit a man, if he gain the whole world, and suffer the loss of his own soul? Or what exchange shall a man give for his soul?” (Matthew 16:26)”

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Have You Religion In Your Heart?

ST. JOHN MARY VIANNEY

INDEX

Alas, my dear brethren, what have we become even since our conversion? Instead of going always forward and increasing in holiness, what laziness and what indifference we display! God cannot endure this perpetual inconstancy with which we pass from virtue to vice and from vice to virtue. Tell me, my children, is not this the very pattern of the way you live? Are your poor lives anything other than a succession of good deeds and bad deeds? Is it not true that you go to Confession and the very next day you fall again-or perhaps the very same day?. . . . How can this be, unless the religion you have is unreal, a religion of habit, a religion of long-standing custom, and not a religion rooted in the heart? Carry on, my friend; you are only a waverer! Carry on, my poor man; in everything you do, you are just a hypocrite and nothing else! God has not the first place in your heart; that is reserved for the world and the devil. How many people there are, my dear children, who seem to love God in real earnest for a little while and then abandon Him! What do you find, then, so hard and so unpleasant in the service of God that it has repelled you so strangely and caused you to change over to the side of the world? Yet at the time when God showed you the state of your soul, you actually wept for it and realised how much you had been mistaken in your lives. If you have persevered so little, the reason for this misfortune is that the devil must have been greatly grieved to have lost you because he has done so much to get you back. He hopes now to keep you altogether. How many apostates there are, indeed, who have renounced their religion and who are Christians in name only!

But, you will say to me, how can we know that we have religion in our hearts, this religion which is consistent? My dear brethren, this is how: listen well and you will understand if you have religion as God wants you to have it in order to lead you to Heaven. If a person has true virtue, nothing whatever can change him; he is like a rock in the midst of a tempestuous sea. If anyone scorns you, or calumniates you, if someone mocks at you or calls you a hypocrite or a sanctimonious fraud, none of this will have the least effect upon your peace of soul. You will love him just as much as you loved him when he was saying good things about you. You will not fail to do him a good turn and to help him, even if he speaks badly of your assistance. You will say your prayers, go to Confession, to Holy Communion, you will go to Mass, all according to your general custom.

To help you to understand this better, I will give you an example. It is related that in a certain parish there was a young man who was a model of virtue. He went to Mass almost every day and to Holy Communion often. It happened that another was jealous of the esteem in which this young man was held, and one day, when they were both in the company of a neighbour, who possessed a lovely gold snuffbox, the jealous one took it from its owner’s pocket and placed it, unobserved, in the pocket of the young man. After he had done this, without pretending anything, he asked to see the snuffbox. The owner expected to find it in his pocket and was astonished when he discovered that it was missing. No one was allowed to leave the room until everyone had been searched, and the snuffbox was found, of course, on the young man who was a model of goodness. Naturally, everyone immediately called him a thief and attacked his religious professions, denouncing him as a hypocrite and a sanctimonious fraud. He could not defend himself, since the box had been found in his pocket. He said nothing. He suffered it all as something which had come from the hand of God. When he was walking along the street, when he was coming from the church, or from Mass or Holy Communion, everyone who saw him jeered at him and called him a hypocrite, a fraud, a thief. This went on for quite a long time, but in spite of it, he continued with all of his religious exercises, his Confessions, his Communions, and all of his prayers, just as if everyone were treating him with the utmost respect. After some years, the man who had been the cause of it all fell ill. To those who were with him he confessed that he had been the origin of all the evil things which had been said about this young man, who was a saint, and that through jealousy of him, so that he might destroy his good name, he himself had put the snuffbox in the young man’s pocket.

There, my brethren, is a religion which is true, which has taken root in the soul. Tell me, if all of those poor Christians who make profession of religion were subjected to such trials, would they imitate this young man? Ah, my dear brethren, what murmurings there would be, what bitternesses, what thoughts of revenge, of slander, of calumny, even perhaps of going to law. . . . They would storm against religion; they would scorn and jeer at it and say nothing but ill of it; they would not be able to say their prayers any more; they would not be able to go to Mass; they would not know what more to do or to say to justify themselves; they would collect every item of harm that this or that person had done, tell it to others, repeat it to everyone who knew them in order to make them out as liars and calumniators. What is the reason for this conduct, my dear brethren? Surely it is that our religion is only one of whim, of longstanding habit and routine, and, if we were to put it more forcefully, because we are hypocrites who serve God just as long as everything is going according to our wishes. Alas, my dear brethren, all of these virtues which we observe in a great many apparent Christians are but like the flowers of spring, which one gust of hot wind can wither.

LOST WORKS

How is it, my dear brethren, that so few Christians behave with one end only in view-to please God? Here is the reason, pure and simple. It is just that the vast majority of Christians are enveloped in the most shocking ignorance, so that, humanly speaking, they really do the very best they can.

The result is that if you were to compare their intentions with those of pagans, you would not find any difference. Ah, dear Lord, how many good works are lost for Heaven! Others who are a little better informed are interested only in the esteem of their fellow men, and they try to dissemble as much as they can: their exterior seems good, while interiorly they are filled with duplicity and evil.

Yes, my dear brethren, we shall see at the Judgment that the largest section of Christians practiced a religion of whim or caprice only-that is to say, the greatest number of them practiced their religion merely from motives of routine, and very few sought God alone in what they did.

WE ARE WRETCHED CREATURES

We cannot dwell upon the conduct of the Jews, my dear people, without being struck with amazement. These very people had waited for God for four thousand years, they had prayed much because of the great desire they had to receive Him, and yet when He came, He could not find a single person to give Him the poorest lodging. The allpowerful God was obliged to make His dwelling with the animals.

And yet, my dear people, I find in the conduct of the Jews, criminal as it was, not a subject for explanations, but a theme for the condemnation of the conduct of the majority of Christians. We can see that the Jews had formed an idea of their Redeemer which did not conform with the state of austerity in which He appeared. It seemed as if they could not persuade themselves that this could indeed be He who was to be their Saviour; St. Paul tells us very clearly that if the Jews had recognised Him as God, they would never have put Him to death. There is, then, some small excuse for the Jews. But what excuse can we make, my dear brethren, for the coldness and the contempt which we show towards Jesus Christ? Oh, yes, we do indeed truly believe that Jesus Christ came upon earth, that He provided the most convincing proofs of His divinity. Hence the reason for our hope. We rejoice, and we have good reason to recognise Jesus Christ as our God, our Saviour, and our Model. Here is the foundation of our faith. But, tell me, with all this, what homage do we really pay Him? Do we do more for Him than if we did not believe all this? Tell me, dear brethren, does our conduct correspond at all to our beliefs? We are wretched creatures.

We are even more blameworthy than the Jews.

ROUTINE FOLLOWERS

Ah, dear lord, what blindness! oh, ugly sin of hypocrisy which leads souls to hell with actions which, if they had been performed from genuine motives, would have brought them to Heaven! Unfortunately, such a large body of Christians do not know themselves and do not even try to know themselves. They follow routines and habits, and they do not want to see reason. They are blind, and they move along in their blindness. If a priest wants to tell them about the state they are in, they do not listen, and if they go through the pretence of listening, they will do nothing at all about what they are told.

This state, my dear people, is the most unhappy state that anyone can possibly imagine, and it is perhaps the most dangerous one as well.

THE WORLD IS EVERYTHING AND GOD IS NOTHING!

If people would do for god what they do for the world, my dear people, what a great number of Christians would go to Heaven! But if you, dear children, had to pass three or four hours praying in a church, as you pass them at a dance or in a cabaret, how heavily the time would press upon you! If you had to go to a great many different places in order to hear a sermon, as you go for your pastimes or to satisfy your avarice and greed, what pretexts there would be, and how many detours would be taken to avoid going at all. But nothing is too much trouble when done for the world. What is more, people are not afraid of losing either God or their souls or Heaven. With what good reason did Jesus Christ, my dear people, say that the children of this world are more zealous in serving their master, the world, than the children of light are in serving theirs, who is God. To our shame, we must admit that people fear neither expense, nor even going into debt, when it is a matter of satisfying their pleasures, but if some poor person asks them for help, they have nothing at all. This is true of so many: they have everything for the world and nothing at all for God because to them, the world is everything and God is nothing.

FOLLOW ONE MASTER ONLY

What a sad life does he lead who wants both to please the world and to serve God! It is a great mistake to make, my friends. Apart from the fact that you are going to be unhappy all the time, you can never attain the stage at which you will be able to please the world and please God. It is as impossible a feat as trying to put an end to eternity. Take the advice that I am going to give you now and you will be less unhappy: give yourselves wholly to God or else wholly to the world. Do not look for and do not serve more than one master, and once you have chosen the one you are going to follow, do not leave him. You surely remember what Jesus Christ said to you in the Gospel: you cannot serve God and Mammon; that is to say, you cannot follow the world and the pleasures of the world and Jesus Christ with His Cross. Of course you would be quite willing to follow God just so far and the world just so far! Let me put it even more clearly: you would like it if your conscience, if your heart, would allow you to go to the altar in the morning and the dance in the evening; to spend part of the day in church and the remainder in the cabarets or other places of amusement; to talk of God at one moment and the next to tell obscene stories or utter calumnies about your neighbour; to do a good turn for your next-door neighbour on one occasion and on some other to do him harm; in other words, to do good and speak well when you are with good people and to do wrong when you are in bad company.

WE ARE EXTRAORDINARILY BLIND

We must certainly be extraordinarily blind because when all is said and done, there is not a single person who could say that he is ready to appear before Jesus Christ.

Yet in spite of the fact that we are quite aware of this, here is still not one among us who will take a single step nearer to God. Dear Lord, how blind the sinner is! How pitiable is his lot! My dear children, let us not live like fools any longer, for at the moment when we least expect it, Jesus Christ will knock at our door. How happy then will be the person who has not been waiting until that very moment to prepare himself for Him.

That is what I wish you to be.

NOT LIKE THE OTHERS

I am not like the others! That, my dear brethren, is the usual tone of false virtue and the attitude of those proud people who, always quite satisfied with themselves, are at all times ready to censure and to criticise the conduct of others. That, too, is the attitude of the rich, who look upon the poor as if they were of a different race or nature from them and who behave towards them accordingly.

Let us go one better, my dear brethren, and admit that it is the attitude of most of the world. There are very few people, even in the lowliest conditions, who do not have a good opinion of themselves. They regard themselves as far superior to their equals, and their detestable pride urges them to believe that they are indeed worth a great deal more than most other people. From this I conclude that pride is the source of all the vices and the cause of all the evils which have occurred, and which are still to come, in the course of the centuries. We carry our blindness so far that often we even glorify ourselves on account of things which really ought to cover us with confusion. Some derive a great deal of pride because they believe that they have more intelligence than others; others because they have a few more inches of land or some money, when in fact they should be in dread of the formidable account which God will demand of them one day. Oh, my dear brethren, if only some of them felt the need to say the prayer that St. Augustine addressed to God: “My God, teach me to know myself for what I am and I shall have no need of anything else to cover me with confusion and scorn for myself.”

We could say that this sin is found everywhere, that it accompanies man in what he does and says. It is like a kind of seasoning or flavouring which can be tasted in every portion of a dish. Listen to me for a moment and you can see this for yourselves. Our Lord gives us an example in the Gospel when He tells us of the Pharisee who went up into the temple to pray and, standing up where all could see him, said in a loud voice: “O God, I give thee thanks that I am not as the rest of men steeped in sin. I spend my life doing good and pleasing you.”

Herein consists the very nature of the proud man: instead of thanking God for condescending to make use of him for a good purpose and for giving him grace, he looks upon whatever good he does as something which comes from himself, not from God. Let us go into a few details and you will see that there are hardly any exceptions to this general sin of pride. The old and the young, the rich and the poor, all suffer from it. Each and everyone congratulates himself and flatters himself because of what he is or of what he does—or rather because of what he is not and what he does not. Everyone applauds himself and loves also to be applauded. Everyone rushes to solicit the praises of the rest of the world, and everyone strives to draw them to himself. In this way are the lives of the great majority of people passed.

The door by which pride enters with the greatest ease and strength is the door of wealth. Just as soon as someone improves his possessions and his sources of wealth, you will observe him change his mode of life. He will act as Jesus Christ told us the Pharisees liked to act: these people love to be called master and to have people saluting them. They like the first places. They begin to appear in better clothes. They leave behind their air of simplicity. If you salute them, they will, with difficulty, nod to you without raising their hats.

Walking with their heads in the air, they will study to find the finest words for everything, though quite often they do not even know the meaning of the words, and they love to repeat them. In order to show that his wealth has been increased, this man will make your head swim with stories of the legacies he is going to receive. Others are preoccupied with their labours to become highly esteemed and praised. If one of them has succeeded in some undertaking, he will rush to make it known as widely as possible so that his would-be wisdom and cleverness may be spread far and wide. If another has said something which has gained approval or interest, he will deafen everyone he knows with repetition of it, until they are bored to death and make fun of him. If such vain and boastful people do any travelling at all, you will hear them exaggerating a hundred times all that they said and did to such an extent that you feel sorry for the people who have to listen to them. They think that they appear very brilliant, though people are scoffing at them in secret. No one can stop them from talking about themselves: one well known braggart convinced himself that people believed everything he said!. . . .

Observe a person of some standing scrutinising the work of someone else. He will find a hundred faults with it and will say: “Ah, what can you expect? He does not know any better!”

But since the proud person never depreciates the merit of someone else without increasing his own importance, he will hurry on then to speak of some work which he has done, which SO-and-So has considered so well executed that he has talked about it to many others.

Take a young woman who has a shapely figure or who, at any rate, thinks she has.

You see her walking along, picking her steps, full of affectation, with a pride which seems colossal enough to reach the clouds! If she has plenty of clothes, she will leave her wardrobe open so that they can be seen. People take pride in their animals and in their households. They take pride in knowing how to go to Confession properly, in saying their prayers, in behaving modestly and decorously in the church. A mother takes pride from her children. You will hear a landowner whose fields are in better condition than those of his neighbours criticising these and applauding his own superior knowledge. Or it may be a young man with a watch, or perhaps only the chain, and a couple of coins in his pocket, and you will hear him saying, “I did not know that it was so late,” so that people will see him looking at the watch or will know that he has one. You may observe a man gambling; he may have but two coins to spare, but he will have all he possesses in his hand, and sometimes even what is not his. Or indeed, he will even pretend that he has more than he really has. How many people even borrow, either money or clothes, just to go to places of gambling or other kinds of pleasure.

No, my dear brethren, there is nothing that is quite as ridiculous or stupid as to be forever talking about what we have or what we do. Just listen to the father of a family when his children are of an age to get married; in all the places and gatherings where he is to be found you will hear him saying: “I have so many thousand francs ready; my business will give me so many thousands, etc.”

But if later he is asked for a few coppers for the poor, he has nothing.

If a tailor or a dressmaker has made a success of a coat or a frock and someone seeing the wearer pass says, “That looks very well. I wonder who made it?” they will make very sure to observe: “Oh, I made that.”

Why? So that everyone may know how skilful they are.

But if the garment had not been such a success, they would, of course, take good care to say nothing, for fear of being humiliated.

And I will add this to what I have just said. This sin is even more to be feared in people who put on a good show of piety and religion.

THE EVIL TONGUES

There are some who, through envy, for that is what it amounts to, belittle and slander others, especially those in the same business or profession as their own, in order to draw business to themselves. They will say such evil things as “their merchandise is worthless” or “they cheat”; that they have nothing at home and that it would be impossible to give goods away at such a price; that there have been many complaints about these goods; that they will give no value or wear or whatever it is, or even that it is short weight, or not the right length, and so on. A workman will say that another man is not a good worker, that he is always changing his job, that people are not satisfied with him, or that he does no work, that he only puts in his time, or perhaps that he does not know how to work.

“What I was telling you there,” they will then add, “it would be better to say nothing about it. He might lose by it, you know.”

“Is that so?” you answer.” It would have been better if you yourself had said nothing. That would have been the thing to do.”

A farmer will observe that his neighbour’s property is doing better than his own. This makes him very angry so he will speak evil of him. There are others who slander their neighbours from motives of vengeance. If you do or say something to help someone, even through reasons of duty or of charity, they will then look for opportunities to decry you, to think up things which will harm you, in order to revenge themselves. If their neighbour is well spoken of, they will be very annoyed and will tell you: “He is just like everyone else. He has his own faults. He has done this, he has said that. You didn’t know that? Ah, that is because you have never had anything to do with him.”

A great many people slander others because of pride. They think that by depreciating others they will increase their own worth. They want to make the most of their own alleged good qualities. Everything they say and do will be good, and everything that others say and do will be wrong.

But the great bulk of malicious talk is done by people who are simply irresponsible, who have an itch to chatter about others without feeling any need to discover whether what they are saying is true or false. They just have to talk. Yet, although these latter are less guilty than the others-that is to say, than those who slander and backbite through hatred or envy or revenge-yet they are not free from sin. Whatever the motive that prompts them, they should not sully the reputation of their neighbour.

It is my belief that the sin of scandal-mongering includes all that is most evil and wicked. Yes, my dear brethren, this sin includes the poison of all the vices-the meanness of vanity, the venom of jealousy, the bitterness of anger, the malice of hatred, and the flightiness and irresponsibility so unworthy of a Christian. . . . Is it not, in fact, scandalmongering which sows almost all discord and disunity, which breaks up friendships and hinders enemies from reconciling their quarrels, which disturbs the peace of homes, which turns brother against brother, husband against wife, daughter-in-law against mother-in-law and son-in-law against father-in-law? How many united households have been turned upside down by one evil tongue, so that their members could not bear to see or to speak to one another? And one malicious tongue, belonging to a neighbour, man or woman, can be the cause of all this misery. . . .

Yes, my dear brethren, the evil tongue of one scandalmonger poisons all the virtues and engenders all the vices. It is from that malicious tongue that a stain is spread so many times through a whole family, a stain which passes from fathers to children, from one generation to the next, and which perhaps is never effaced. The malicious tongue will follow the dead into the grave; it will disturb the remains of these unfortunates by making live again the faults which were buried with them in that resting place. What a foul crime, my dear brethren! Would you not be filled with fiery indignation if you were to see some vindictive wretch rounding upon a corpse and tearing it into a thousand pieces?

Such a sight would make you cry out in horror and compassion. And yet the crime of continuing to talk of the faults of the dead is much greater. A great many people habitually speak of someone who has died something after this fashion:

“Ah, he did very well in his time! He was a seasoned drinker.

He was as cute as a fox. He was no better than he should have been.”

But perhaps, my friend, you are mistaken, and although everything may have been exactly as you have said, perhaps he is already in Heaven, perhaps God has pardoned him. But, in the meantime, where is your charity?

A PUBLIC PLAGUE

As you know my dear brethren, we are bound as fellow creatures to have human sympathy and feelings for one another. Yet one envious person would like, if he possibly could, to destroy everything good and profitable belonging to his neighbour. You know, too, that as Christians we must have boundless charity for our fellow men. But the envious person is far removed indeed from such virtues. He would be happy to see his fellow man ruin himself. Every mark of God’s generosity towards his neighbour is like a knife thrust that pierces his heart and causes him to die in secret. Since we are all members of the same Body of which Jesus Christ is the Head, we should so strive that unity, charity, love, and zeal can be seen in one and all. To make us all happy, we should rejoice, as St. Paul tells, in the happiness of our fellow men and mourn with those who have cares or troubles. But, very far from experiencing such feelings, the envious are forever uttering scandals and calumnies against their neighbours. It appears to them that in this way they can do something to assuage and sweeten their vexation.

But, unfortunately, we have not said all that can be said about envy. This is the deadly vice which hurls kings and emperors from their thrones. Why do you think, my dear brethren, that among these kings, these emperors, these men who occupy the first places in the world of men, some are driven out of their places of privilege, some are poisoned, others are stabbed? It is simply because someone wants to rule in their place. It is not the food, nor the drink, nor the habitations that the authors of such crimes want. Not at all. They are consumed with envy.

Take another example. Here is a merchant who wants to have all the business for himself and to leave nothing at all for anyone else. If someone leaves his store to go elsewhere, he will do his best to say all the evil he can, either about the rival businessman himself or else about the quality of what he sells. He will take all possible means to ruin his rival’s reputation, saying that the other’s goods are not of the same quality as his own or that the other man gives short weight. You will notice, too, than an envious man like this has a diabolical trick to add to all this: “It would not do,” he will tell you, “for you to say this to anyone else; it might do harm and that would upset me very much. I am only telling you because I would not like to see you being cheated.”

A workman may discover that someone else is now going to work in a house where previously he was always employed. This angers him greatly, and he will do everything in his power to run down this “interloper” so that he will not be employed there after all.

Look at the father of a family and see how angry he becomes if his next-door neighbour prospers more than he or if the neighbour’s land produces more. Look at a mother: she would like it if people spoke well of no children except hers. If anyone praises the children of some other family to her and does not say something good of hers, she will reply, “They are not perfect,” and she will become quite upset. How foolish you are, poor mother! The praise given to others will take nothing from your children.

Just look at the jealousy of a husband in respect of his wife or of a wife in respect of her husband. Notice how they inquire into everything the other does and says, how they observe everyone to whom the other speaks, every house into which the other enters. If one notices the other speaking to someone, there will be accusations of all sorts of wrongdoing, even though the whole episode may have been completely innocent.

This is surely a cursed sin which puts a barrier between brothers and sisters, too. The very moment that a father or a mother gives more to one member of the family than the others, you will see the birth of this jealous hatred against the parent or against the favoured brother or sister-a hatred which may last for years, and sometimes even for a lifetime. There are children who keep a watchful eye upon their parents just to insure that they will not give any sort of gift or privilege to one member of the family. If this should occur in spite of them, there is nothing bad enough that they will not say.

We can see that this sin makes its first appearance among children. You will notice the petty jealousies they will feel against one another if they observe any preferences on the part of the parents. A young man would like to be the only one considered to have intelligence, or learning, or a good character. A girl would like to be the only one who is loved, the only one well dressed, the only one sought after; if others are more popular than she, you will see her fretting and upsetting herself, even weeping, perhaps, instead of thanking God for being neglected by creatures so that she may be attached to Him alone. What a blind passion envy is, my dear brethren! Who could hope to understand it?

Unfortunately, this vice can be noted even among those in whom it should never be encountered -that is to say, among those who profess to practice their religion. They will take note of how many times such a person remains to go to Confession or of how So-and-So kneels or sits when she is saying her prayers.

They will talk of these things and criticise the people concerned, for they think that such prayers or good works are done only so that they may be seen, or in other words, that they are purely an affectation. You may tire yourself out telling them that their neighbour’s actions concern him alone. They are irritated and offended if the conduct of others is thought to be superior to their own.

You will see this even among the poor. If some kindly person gives a little bit extra to one of them, they will make sure to speak ill of him to their benefactor in the hope of preventing him from benefiting on any further occasion.

Dear Lord, what a detestable vice this is! It attacks all that is good, spiritual as well as temporal.

We have already said that this vice indicates a mean and petty spirit. That is so true that no one will admit to feeling envy, or at least no one wants to believe that he has been attacked by it. People will employ a hundred and one devices to conceal their envy from others. If someone speaks well of another in our presence, we keep silence: we are upset and annoyed. If we must say something, we do so in the coldest and most unenthusiastic fashion. No, my dear children, there is not a particle of charity in the envious heart. St. Paul has told us that we must rejoice in the good which befalls our neighbour.

Joy, my dear brethren, is what Christian charity should inspire in us for one another. But the sentiments of the envious are vastly different.

I do not believe that there is a more ugly and dangerous sin than envy because it is hidden and is often covered by the attractive mantle of virtue or of friendship. Let us go further and compare it to a lion which we thought was muzzled, to a serpent covered by a handful of leaves which will bite us without our noticing it. Envy is a public plague which spares no one.

We are leading ourselves to Hell without realising it.

But how are we then to cure ourselves of this vice if we do not think we are guilty of it? I am quite certain that of the thousands of envious souls honestly examining their consciences, there would not be one ready to believe himself belonging to that company. It is the least recognised of sins.

Some people are so profoundly ignorant that they do not recognise a quarter of their ordinary sins. And since the sin of envy is more difficult to know, it is not surprising that so few confess it and correct it. Because they are not guilty of the big public sins committed by coarse and brutalised people, they think that the sins of envy are only little defects in charity, when, in fact, for the most part, these are serious and deadly sins which they are harbouring and tending in their hearts, often without fully recognising them.

“But,” you may be thinking in your own minds, “if I really recognised them, I would do my best to correct them.”

If you want to be able to recognise them, my dear brethren, you must ask the Holy Ghost for His light. He alone will give you this grace. No one could, with impunity, point out these sins to you; you would not wish to agree nor to accept them; you would always find something which would convince you that you had made no mistake in thinking and acting in the way you did. Do you know yet what will help to make you know the state of your soul and to uncover this evil sin hidden in the secret recesses of your heart? It is humility. Just as pride will hide it from you, so will humility reveal it to you.

********

Healing

BY EDWARD K. TAYLOR C.M.S

INDEX

IT is the evil genius of heresy to distort the Christian truth by exaggerating or minimizing one or other of its aspects. The Church in all ages must counteract this by showing truth in its true proportions and full beauty. Today much error is being broadcast about so-called Divine Healing, Faith Healing and Spirit Healing. It is necessary, therefore, to make known the Church’s attitude to suffering and sickness and the nature of her ministry to the sick, so that the true picture may by comparison reveal the distortions of the counterfeit.

SUFFERING IS VALUABLE

Christ invites us to suffer.

Suffering and disease are the consequences of Original Sin and will be with us until the final coming of Christ, when wounded Nature will be healed and the just enter into the glory and painless happiness of Heaven. The Christian must strive to cure sickness and relieve pain, but having done so must be reconciled to them and, by accepting them willingly, turn them to profit. By His Passion and death Christ turned them to good effect, paid the price of sin and redeemed the human race. Those who are redeemed are called upon to co-operate in the work of Redemption by applying to their souls the merits of Christ’s Passion. They do this by reception of the sacraments, prayer and good works, but also by uniting their sufferings with those of Christ and offering them with His in reparation for their own sins and the sins of the world. The whole Church is the Body of Christ and must suffer, for it is not right that there should bea body at ease beneath a head crowned with thorns. Our Lord said, “If any man will come after me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross and follow me” (Matthew 16:24).

Since we are all members of the Body of Christ we benefit all parts of it by benefiting ourselves. Suffering then is valuable and the sick exercise a vital apostolate which invigorates the whole Church. Christian charity demands that all possible should be done to heal them and relieve their pains, but they are to be encouraged to bear their sufferings cheerfully for Christ’s sake. Indeed, it is more perfect to embrace suffering than to fly from it.

Christ’s Mission is Spiritual. Our Lord is concerned only indirectly with bodily needs. He died to bring grace to souls, not health to bodies. The Christian must exercise the corporal works of mercy chiefly because they are acts of charity and enable those who benefit from them to serve God better for the salvation of their souls.

Christ did not come to be a miracle-worker. The sacraments and sacramentals of His Church are not medicine, nor His priests “medicine-men”. Any healing done in the name of Christ is only incidental to the work of saving souls.

CHRIST AND THE APOSTLES HEALED

The miracles of healing by Christ and the Apostles are part of the fabric of the New Testament. Their chief purpose was to prove Christ’s claims and the authority given by Him to His Apostles and disciples, and they were not to be part of their normal priestly ministry.

CHRIST HEALED

The public mission of Our Blessed Lord is thus summarized in a formula which we find twice in St Matthew (4:23 and 9:35):

“And Jesus went about all Galilee, teaching in their synagogues, and preaching the gospel of the Kingdom and healing all manner of sickness and infirmity among the people.”

His miracles were unique, not merely in their effects but in the manner they were achieved and their number. He raised the dead to life and cured organic diseases. He did this in the sight of multitudes as well as privately, and with the minimum of effort, usually with a single command. As for their numbers, we need only quote this astonishing text:

“And when the sun was down, all they that had any sick with divers diseases brought them to him. But he, laying his hands on every one of them, healed them” (Luke 4:40).

But He did not work miracles for their own sake. He would have preferred faith without wonders to arouse it. He said, with disappointment, “Unless you see signs and wonders, you believe not” (John 4:45), and, “An evil and adulterous generation seeks a sign” (Matthew 12:39).

THE APOSTLES HEALED

When Our Lord, before His death and resurrection, sent the Apostles on a mission, He gave them power over “all manner of infirmities,” and told them to “heal the sick, raise the dead, cleanse the lepers” (Matthew 10:1, 8). St Mark tells us that they used oil in their miraculous healing: “And they cast out many devils, and anointed with oil many that were sick, and healed them” (Mark 6:13). After His resurrection He gave them His final commission to go forth as His Apostles with this promise:

“And these signs shall follow them that believe. In my name they shall cast out devils, they shall speak with new tongues, they shall take up serpents, and if they shall drink any deadly thing it shall not hurt them; they shall lay their hands on the sick and they shall recover” (Mark 16:17–19).

In fact, we learn from the Acts of the Apostles that they did these things (2:4, 9:33, 36–40, 16:18, 28:5, 8, etc.). Peter was the first to work a miracle of healing in the name of Jesus (3:6), and later worked so many such miracles that the people considered his very shadow falling on the sick would cure them (Acts 5:15).

MIRACLES WERE ‘SIGNS’

No doubt Christ worked many of these cures “because He had compassion on the multitude”. But He indicated that He chiefly performed them as “signs” that He was the Messiah promised of old and ultimately to elicit faith in His divinity. He pointed in particular to His resurrection as a sign of His authority (John 2:19–21, Matthew 26:61), and said to unbelievers, “Though you will not believe me, believe the works” (John 10:38). When John the Baptist sent his disciples to Him seeking reassurance that He was the Saviour, He replied:

“Go and relate to John what you have heard and seen. The blind see, the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead rise again, the poor have the gospel preached to them” (Matthew 11:4, 5). He applies to Himself words used by the prophet Isaiah of the coming Saviour. (see Isaiah 61:1–2, and Luke 4: 18–21)

For the Apostles, also, healing was the sign that they spoke and acted with the authority of God and in the name of Jesus Christ. In His final commission He said, “These signs shall follow them that believe.” (See Mark 16:17)

HEALING A SPECIAL GIFT

Healing was one of the “charisms”, extraordinary gifts given to individuals for the benefit of the whole Christian community. They were necessary to encourage the faith of Christians and win converts in the first years of the Church’s life when she was so small and the opposition of the pagan and Jewish world so fierce.

St Paul insists they are not necessary for every disciple and are relatively unimportant compared with the allimportant virtues, especially Charity. Not every disciple has a “charism”, he tells the Corinthians (1 Corinthians 12): nor does anyone have them all. “Are all of us apostles?” he asks, “all prophets, all teachers? Have all miraculous powers, or gifts of healing? Can all speak with tongues, can all interpret?” None of these are necessary. “I will tell you what is,” he says, in effect, and in the famous thirteenth chapter sings the praises of Charity, the love of God and the neighbour.

Not all exercised the gift of healing, nor did all benefit from it. Suffering was not wiped out in the Christian community in apostolic times. The Revelations of St John tell us that Christians suffered terribly in the first century. There was sickness among the elect. Epaphroditus, for instance, companion of St Paul in many missions, suffered serious illness (Philippians 2:26), and St Paul himself all his life suffered from the weakness which he calls his “thorn in the flesh”, and bore many other sufferings in which he gloried (2 Corinthians 12:5–10).

CHRIST HEALS THROUGH HIS CHURCH

The arm of Our Blessed Lord is not shortened since He went to Heaven. He carries on His ministry through His Body, the Church. He stretches forth His hands particularly through His earthly priest, who, in the words of St John Chysostom, “lends Christ his tongue and gives Him the use of his hands.” But Christ acts also through all the members of the Church. As Father Gerard Manley Hopkins says, the Christian

Acts in God’s eyes what in God’s eye s he is

Christ—for Christ plays in ten thousand places,

Lovely in limbs and lovely in eyes not His. (Sonnet 34)

Christ still heals. Perhaps He works even more miracles today through His Mystical Body the Church than He worked through His physical body when on earth. But apart from miracles He is constantly bringing spiritual and physical refreshment to suffering souls through His sacraments and sacramentals.

MIRACLES

Not every priest can claim the charism of healing, any more than those of apostolic times could. But the gift is still given. Christ on isolated and particular occasions still heals miraculously through His saints. Only a few of the saints of each generation are canonized, only a selection of their deeds are recorded and only the two major miracles submitted during their “cause” of canonization are scrutinized and accepted officially by the Church. Many more wonders happen than are chronicled. Miracles, though comparatively rare, are part of the ordinary life of the Church, and, like themiracles of Christ, are given as “signs” of the holiness of a person and the things for which he stands.

Miracles are of two kinds, broadly speaking. There are cures of organic diseases which in their effects and the manner in which they were achieved are quite outside the known laws of medicine. There are cures, particularly of functional diseases, which can be brought about by treatment but which in these particular cases, either because of the speed or completeness of recovery or the apparent inadequacy of the methods employed, are seen by the believer to be miraculous.

The cure of John Traynor at Lourdes in 1923 is an example of the former. As a result of multiple war-wounds, he suffered from epilepsy, paralysis of the right arm due to severed nerves, atrophy of the shoulder and pectoral muscles, was without feeling in his legs and without control of his functions. His skull had been trepanned and the opening covered with a metal plate. He was restored instantaneously to perfect health and for twenty years worked as a coalmerchant in Liverpool, himself lifting sacks of coal even though the nerves of the axilla which actuate the muscles of the arm remained severed. He died of a hernia in 1943.

The Medical Bureau and Medical Commission of Lourdes examine all alleged cures. They will only consider cases of grave organic lesion. They look for five characteristics which mark miraculous cures. The patient had no curative treatment immediately before the cure; it was instantaneous; there was no period of convalescence; it occurred in an unusual manner; the functions of the body were restored even when the organ responsible for them was biologically incapable of performing them. So rigorously are these tests applied and hearsay rejected that on an average only one such cure a year is officially attested. All concerned know that more occur.

Cures of functional diseases and diseases of the mind, not even considered by the Medical Bureau but accepted as miraculous in the common opinion of wise men, occur more frequently at Lourdes and other places of pilgrimage. But the working of miracles is not restricted to places of pilgrimage. Miracles, although rare, happen in all parts of the Church, on the testimony of discreet and sensible men, both medical and lay.

The Church, however, has a ministry of healing other than the miraculous, through the administration of the sacrament of Extreme Unction and her many blessings for the sick.

EXTREME UNCTION (SACRAMENT OF THE SICK)

Sacred Scripture thus describes this sacrament:

“Is any man sick among you? Let him bring in the priests of the church, and let them pray over him, anointing him with oil in the name of the Lord. And the prayer of faith shall save the sick man, and the Lord shall raise him up. And if he be in sins, theyshall be forgiven him” (James 5:14, 15).

Here is implied the whole of the Church’s teaching on this sacrament—that it is instituted by Jesus Christ, for the benefit of the seriously sick, administered by the priest, who prays in the name of the Church and anoints with sacred oil, with the threefold effect of remitting sins, cheering and strengthening the soul and restoring the sick man to bodily health, if God sees this to be for his spiritual benefit.

SACRAMENT OF THE SICK—CHRIST HEALS THROUGH HIS CHURCH

The first end of this sacrament is to forgive sins and restore supernatural strength to the soul to help it to bear its suffering cheerfully and face death with equanimity. The recovering of bodily health is secondary and conditional, sometimes accompanying the primary effect. With sins are removed such consequences of sin as spiritual debility, indifference, depression and worry, and the strengthening grace of the sacrament brings hope and confidence in the goodness of God, so that the soul is calmed and the body in consequence becomes relaxed and better able to recuperate. The recovery, if any, is not miraculous, although it is the result of supernatural graces. Nor is it “faith healing”. Recovery is not the result of self-induced confidence, nor is it the inevitable consequence of the rite. In fact this is, in the words of the Council of Trent, “Sacramentum exeuntium,” the sacrament of the departing. It is the crowning of the Christian life. But all priests of long pastoral experience will testify that some physical improvement is to be expected after it and full recovery is not infrequent. Since grace here works on nature, it is wrong to postpone administration of the sacrament until the patient is almost at his last breath and incapable of recuperation.

The primary purpose of this sacrament is to give grace to the soul, but the Church intends also to bring strength to the body through it, as is clear from the prayers which she says in connection with it. The Bishop prays thus over the sacred Oil for the sick in the Mass of the Oils of Holy Thursday:

Send forth from Heaven, we pray You, O God, Your Holy Spirit into this rich Oil, which You have deigned to produce from the green wood for the restoring of mind and body—through Your blessing may all anointed with this Heavenly medicine be protected in mind and body, all mental and physical pain, weakness and sickness, being removed . . .

BLESSINGS OF THE SICK

The prayers in the Roman Ritual for the various blessings of the sick indicate the Church’s inten tion of healing the body as well as the soul. The words said over a sick child are typical of many similar blessings:

Stretch forth Your hand therefore over this Your servant deprived of health at such a tender age. Let health be given back to him. May he live out his full span of years, and may he never cease to give You loyal and grateful service all the days of his life. Amen.

There are many sacramentals for the sick (that is, prayers, actions or objects specially blessed by the Church, administered in a way resembling a sacrament), with prayers for the restoration of full health. Bread, wine, oil, water, are blessed to be used by the sick with the invocation of saints whose names have been traditionally associated with the curing of particular ills. The blessing of St Blaise for the throat is a good example. Two candles are sprinkled with Holy Water and the priest prays God to bless them:

So that all who shall be touched on the neck with them may be freed from all disease of the throat, by the merits of Christ’s Passion, and in health and good cheer may give thanks to You in Your Church and praise Your name, which is blessed for ever.

The two candles are placed scissor-wise to the neck by the priest as he says:

Through the intercession of St Blaise, bishop and martyr, may God free you from all disease of the throat, and from all other evil; in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.

All Catholics know that there is no guarantee of cure in each case and are encouraged to bear their sufferings patiently if it is not God’s will that they should be cured. But undoubtedly many are comforted and not a few cured by such blessings.

CATHOLIC NURSING

The Church has always regarded the care of the sick as a noble vocation, and holy people have dedicated themselves to it from earliest times. In the early Middle Ages, and particularly during the Crusades, religious Orders of both men and women were founded for this purpose. Throughout the West, Hotels-Dieu, or Guest-Houses of God, were established in which religious lived according to rule, with vows of chastity, poverty, obedience and service of the sick, and whose “guests” were invalids of all kinds. These Orders and their successors have something unique to contribute to the practice of medicine, even in these days of National Health Service.

CATHOLIC NURSING—CHRIST HEALS THROUGH HIS CHURCH

There can be no doubt that the Catholic doctor and nurse, whether religious or secular, bring a spirit of dedication and kindness to their service of the sick derived from the grace of the sacraments. Many who are not Christians prefer Catholic hospitals because of the cheerful and kindly service of the nurses, particularly nuns, and the air of refinement which religion brings to the wards. An atmosphere is a vital factor in nursing. This is particularly true for Catholic patients with deep faith. The sight of the crucifix and statue of Our Lady, the knowledge that a priest is available to bless them, hear their confession, bring Holy Communion and administer the sacrament of Extreme Unction, are sources of great comfort. Doctors of all religious beliefs, and of none, know as a fact of experience that “the comforts of religion” have a marked effect upon the emotions and contribute much to the recovery of health. Through faith the patient loses his self-centredness, shakes off his sense of guilt and banishes morbid fears. Peace of mind and a sense of security under God’s protection develop hope and the conviction of having an important part to play in life and stimulate the will to live, which is a vital factor in the recovering of full health.

SPIRITUAL HEALING

There are many false ideas taught and dangerous practices employed in the name of religion in attempts to cure the sick by other than medical means. “Spiritual Healing” is a term popularly used to cover them all. The different types of Spiritual Healing may be described under the three headings of Divine Healing, Faith Healing, and Spirit Healing. It is difficult to define what the proponents of these theories mean by their terms, because their explanations, whether written or spoken, are vague and various. A rough and brief outline of the dominant ideas of each will be attempted.

DIVINE HEALING

Divine Healing is the term used in the Protestant Churches (chiefly the Anglican) for the attempt to cure the sick through “healing services” in church with the sick present, or through the prayers of groups in private, or the “laying on of hands” and “unction” by a minister in the sick-room or hospital. Although the sixteenth century Protestants neglected and even scorned the Sacrament of Extreme Unction, recent Protestants imitate it more and more. The report of the Archbishop of Canterbury’s Commission in 1958, entitled “The Church’s Ministry of Healing,” gives suitable forms for services of healing in which debt to the Catholic ritual of Extreme Unction is obvious. But there are two fundamental differences. First, it is clear that these are rites for bodily healing primarily; secondly, that they suggest that the faith of the patient and his will to be cured are dominant factors. The report says: “Every effort, by resort to Scripture and by reference to the divine commission of the Church, should be made to evoke firm faith in the patient that the ministry of healing is valid and effective and part of the substance of the gospel.” The Commission recommends that doctors and the minister of religion present should co-operate, showing the same confidence. The emphasis hence is on strong “suggestion”. One is led to the conclusion that this is a respectable form of “Faith Healing”, of which we must now speak.

FAITH HEALING

The philosophy of Faith Healing is based on the conviction that mind can dominate matter, that a sick person can overcome his illness so long as his faith is sufficiently strong. It is not always clear what faith is meant the patient’s faith in God, his faith in the healer, or his faith in his own spiritual powers of recuperation. Normally all these are implied.

Faith Healing is practised in its extreme and most dangerous form by the Christian Scientists, a sect founded by Mary Baker Eddy in 1875. This sect denies the reality of matter and says pain is a figment of the imagination; that Christianity was founded to give mankind perfect physical and mental health; that Christ was the great Healer and intended all His followers to have powers of healing; that medicine is of little use; that suffering is the fault of the sufferer, for he can conquer it through faith. This strikes at the profession of medicine as well as at the Faith. It causes delay in seeking medical attention, suppression of symptoms and consequent new physical disorders. (Cf. What is Christian Science?, by Dr. L. Rumble M.S.C.)

SPIRIT HEALING

This is the most pernicious of all the errors connected with this subject. Socalled “spiritual healers” are in fact spiritualists who claim to be mediums and agents on earth of great doctors of the past who now, in the spirit-world, have even greater knowledge and skill in medicine. Meetings like spiritualist seances are held with all the mumbojumbo and trickery of Spiritualism. The healers also have sessions of “contact healing” in which they interview patients and lay their hands on them, claiming to receive strength and inspiration from the spirit-guides. They practise also “absent-healing”—by correspondence!

This is open to all the dangers of Spiritualism. It is completely divorced from the Church founded by Christ and the doctrines He committed to its care. It is a mixture of charlatanism, credulity and emotionalism, and is the enemy of true religion and true medicine.

JUDGEMENT ON ‘SPIRITUAL HEALING’

There are three fallacies beneath all these ideas on healing. First is the presumption that all illness is against the will of God and wholly evil. In fact, suffering and disease are now a necessary part of man’s fallen state and are occasions of grace for him and a more valuable way of making reparation for his sins.

Second is the idea that the faith of the sufferer, stimulated by any form of “suggestion” (religious “suggestion” being particularly powerful), is the prime if not the only factor in bringing about a cure. The Catholic Church teaches that it is the direct action of God in answer to prayer which brings about a supernatural cure, if this be His will.

Third is the belief that healing is part of the normal ministry of the individual Christian priest, and even layman, and may be exercised in the name of Christ without any reference to His Church. In fact healing is a “charism” given only to individuals on rare occasions.

HARMFUL EFFECTS

Such beliefs and practices have harmful effects both in religion and medicine. False notions are taught, in the name of the Christian religion, which make a mockery of true religion, by teaching error and raising false hopes. Great harm is often done to the individual. He is in danger of losing his faith if, as often happens, after his hopes of cure have been raised high by religious fervour, there is either no result or a mere remission brought about by emotional excitement. This is particularly true in the case of Faith Healing when the sufferers are told that if there is no cure it is their own fault because their faith is too weak.

The harmful medical effects on the patient are manifold. The British Medical Association in 1956 published a report on “Divine Healing and Co-operation between Doctors and Clergy,” made by a special commission at the request of the Archbishop of Canterbury’s Commission on Divine Healing. The report lists these harmful effects of so-called Divine Healing, Faith Healing and Spirit Healing.

Often pain is relieved by emotional experiences and auto-suggestion without the root of the disease being affected. Pain is a most important guide to the doctor in making his diagnosis. It is a principle of medical practice not to alleviate pain until a firm diagnosis has been made. To destroy symptoms by suggestion caused by laying on of hands, prayers and ceremonies arousing religious enthusiasm, without curing the disease, is doing the patient a grave disservice.

Raising false hopes of a cure may cause a patient to delay taking normal treatment. Indeed, Christian Scientists on principle discourage any resort to medical aid. Absence of immediate cure and, much more so, a relapse after a remission or temporary absence of symptoms, may cause deep depression. Excessive fervour, particularly in public healing-services, may destroy the emotional balance of the patient and even lead to a physical or mental breakdown. Meetings of a revivalist nature may destroy mental balance permanently, cause hallucinations and consequent extreme depressions.

The harmful effects to medicine in general are even more serious. The recognition of the right of “spiritual healers” to enter hospitals would create two different authorities both seeking to cure bodily ills. The “spiritual healer’s” suggestions might easily be in direct opposition to the advice of doctors and medical staff. Quietness of mind and body are normally essential to recuperation. Often these healers seek to arouse fervour. Far different are the ministrations of a Catholic priest who quietly administers the sacraments of the Church and, while praying for good health and encouraging the patient to have hope and confidence, seeks to make him resigned to suffer patiently, if such be the will of God.

GOOD EFFECTS

It cannot be denied that good effects may follow from these dangerous beliefs and practices. God does reward faith wherever He finds it. Also good effects follow naturally from strong suggestion and auto-suggestion. Morale is built up and the will to recover intensified. Many diseases of the body, particularly those caused by anxiety, can be cured by relieving anxiety. Psycho-somatic diseases, in which the physical condition is caused by mental illness or unrest, can be cured by Spiritual Healing as by other forms of psychological treatment. What the mind can cause the mind can cure. As for people suffering from the less serious nervous complaints, it is not surprising that they should have temporary and sometimes even permanent relief from religious experiences, particularly if they are of an emotional kind. But the harmful effects on the whole far outweigh the benefits.

FALSE CLAIMS

Claims of remarkable cures are made by those practising the different forms of Spiritual Healing. It is astonishing to the Catholic, used to the stringent demands made by the Church in her examination of alleged miracles, how meagre is the case-history and unscientific the presentation of the medical evidence in connection with these claims, even when they are made in print by reputable men.

There can be no doubt that suggestion, particularly when it is supported by prayers and religious practices and backed by faith, will calm the mind, build up morale and enable the body to recuperate naturally. But claims of cures are to be treated with great caution.

The British Medical Association’s report says that most claims of cures of organic diseases by Spiritual Healing alone are false for one or other of six reasons:

1. There was a mistake in diagnosis. A psychological condition with physical effects was diagnosed and treated as organic, or vice versa.

Thus, a case diagnosed and treated as epilepsy was in fact hysteria, and an improvement caused by a profound religious experience removed the physical symptoms.

2. There was a mistake in prognosis, or the foretelling of the future course of the disease. It may resolve itself naturally but unexpectedly under normal treatment.

3. There was alleviation of the symptoms without cure. Religious excitement, enthusiasm, hypnotic suggestion, may remove pain and give the stimulus for diseased organs to function; but when the stimulus dies down the pain returns, and probably damage has been done to the diseased organs.

4. There was a remission. The symptoms disappeared naturally for a time though the diseased condition remained. Often the claimed “miracle” receives great publicity, the relapse none.

5. There was a spontaneous natural cure. Such inexplicable recoveries occasionally happen under normal circumstances.

6. There was continued treatment. The cure was due to normal treatment, but the credulous patient attributed it to faith-healing practices carried on at the same time.

The report concludes: “When all these possibilities are considered it leaves little room for miraculous cures of organic disease by methods of spiritual healing” (op. cit., p. 13).

( Footnote: One is led to conclude that the committee did not sufficiently study the miracles of Lourdes. It shows a certain indecision in commenting on them in passing. However, it does refer to them in this context as events “which cannot be explained.”)

CONCLUSION

In this as in all things the Church maintains the balance between the extremes of scepticism on the one hand and credulity on the other. She teaches that sickness and pain are evil consequences of Original Sin, but that in His Passion and death Christ has ennobled them and calls upon all Christians to unite their sufferings to His in reparation for the sins of the world.

She teaches that Christ worked miracles of healing as proof of His divinity and continues to do so through the members of His Church, although no one can claim this power as part of his office. But, apart from miracles, He brings grace and comfort to the souls and health to the bodies of the sick through the sacraments and sacramentals and the charity of Christian doctors and nurses.

The laws of Nature are the will of God and we must not expect Him to be constantly suspending them; yet we may trustfully ask Him for health in sickness, knowing that He will give it if it be for the good of our souls. But we must be resigned to suffer and we gain great merit if we desire suffering for His sake.

We must be doubtful of all claims of miracles whilst admitting the possibility of them, expect Nature to run her normal course yet realize that the influence of the supernatural upon it is part of God’s plan. The supernatural touches the natural at all points.

The angels keep their ancient places;

Turn but a stone, and start a wing!

“Tis ye, “tis your estranged faces,

That miss the manysplendour’d thing.

But (when so sad thou canst not sadder) Cry;—and upon thy so sore loss

Shall shine the traffic of Jacob’s ladder Pitched betwixt Heaven and Charing Cross.

Yea, in the night, my Soul, my daughter, Cry,—clinging Heaven by the hems; And lo, Christ walking on the water, Not of Gennesareth, but Thames!

Heart of Jesus

SOURCE OF ALL CONSOLATION

BEING SELECTED PASSAGES FROM BOOK III OF THE IMITATION OF THE SACRED HEART, BY FATHER ARNOLD, S.J.

THAT THE MOST SACRED HEART OF JESUS TEACHES US IN AFFLICTION TO HAVE RECOURSE TO PRAYER

1. THE VOICE OF JESUS. -My child, when I had entered the garden of the Olives, when the earth was silent all around, behold, there rushed and pressed upon Me, on the one hand, all the sins of the world; on the other, the frightful tortures of My Passion; and with such violence did they crowd upon My Heart that although It is the strength of them that are weak It began to fear to grow weary, sad, disconsolate.

But when I beheld distinctly that, by the great sufferings taken upon Me with so much love, and offered up with so great a mercy for the salvation of all men, not a few would refuse to be saved, and would, by a wilful hardheartedness, misuse them for their deeper destruction, and return Me at last nothing except the blackest ingratitude- then My child, My Heart, growing faint with anguish, forced Me to exclaim: My soul is sorrowful, even unto death

However, having withdrawn from My disciples and advanced a little, kneeling down, I prayed. Meanwhile, by the struggle between the superior and inferior part of My Heart, My sorrows increasing to such a degree that My sweat became as drops of blood trickling down upon the ground, I fell upon My face, and being in an agony I prayed the longer.

And as My agony, on account of that inward struggle, continued, I persevered in prayer: Father, if Thou wilt, remove this chalice from Me, yet; not My will but Thine be done. Yea, My Father, Thy will be done!

Then, sent from heaven, an angel appeared-not to take away the chalice of My Passion, which My Father willed Me wholly to drain, but to strengthen Me; that when joy was sent before Me without My Passion, despising the shame, I might voluntarily endure the cross.

Reflect, My child, how painful a struggle My Heart underwent that night: a struggle the like whereof is not found: a struggle on the result of which hung the salvation of the world.

My Heart fought, labouring, wrestling, resisting even unto blood and overcome; but it conquered in prayer.

2. Behold, My child, behold a source of varied consolation for thee: My Heart, struggling with death, and praying: fighting by love; triumphing by love.

For lo! to what extent I felt the hardship of My sufferings, to what an extent I tasted their bitterness! And all this, My child, to teach, to relieve, to encourage thee.

Be not, then, cast down, nor wonder when you feel a repugnance to suffering. For if My Heart, although holy and perfect, felt Its pains to such a degree, what wonder if your heart feels them likewise?

But never shall you experience, never shall you feel, so much as My Heart felt. Were you to endure at once in your heart whatever you shall have to suffer during your whole life, it would be no more than a little drop of the chalice which My Heart drained in the garden.

Whatever may be the reluctance which you experience in yourself, follow My example; yield not to nature opposing, but go counter thereto.

To this end, in every difficulty, in every anguish, hasten you without delay to prayer.

3. If, when you are troubled, you have recourse to prayer, distress will ever prove gainful to thee. By prayer, you shall either be delivered from it with merit, or you shall be helped to endure it for your good.

Come then, My child, and with knees bent, or with your heart at least humbly prostrate, pray you like Myself; pray that, if it be the divine will, the cup of your affliction may pass away; yet not so that yours, but the divine will be done.

Pray, if this chalice may not pass away, that you obtain grace to be resigned, to submit yourself to drink it.

Be of good cheer, My child; under no circumstances shall you ever have afflictions which will require you to struggle as much, in order to be resigned, as I had. You shall never have a contest which will cause you a bloody sweat.

Whatsoever difficulty you may have, exert yourself, wrestle, fight with yourself, to overcome your feeling. Struggle again and again, pray, and pray the longer, until you have rendered your heart conformed to the divine will, and pre-pared it, in spite of nature, to follow Me through every hardship which may be sent it from above.

4. It is a great misfortune for you, child, that you are wont to have recourse to prayer rather slowly, and first to try human skill; that you suffer the unwearied enemy of your salvation, and the ill-regulated propensity of nature, to obtain too great a sway over your heart.

Hearken not to the suggestions of the devil, or of any passion whatsoever. For, by false reasonings, they seek to deceive, to injure you. Forbidding yourself all reasoning, all intercourse with them, come you forthwith to My Heart; here is your counsel, here you help, here you comfort.

Even had an Angel visibly to be sent down from heaven, you should not be left without consoling aid, if you pray, as it behoves you.

And if, despite your pious efforts, you continue to feel an opposition within yourself, be not on that account dejected. Provided you will go resigned to the divine will, this repugnance felt, indeed, but not willed, so far from doing you harm, shall, on the contrary, if you struggle against it, be of the greatest advantage to you.

It is the characteristic of an heroic disciple of My Heart, to pray and endeavour with all his strength to overcome himself completely in those things from which nature shrinks as well as in those to which it is prone.

5. When you pray in affliction, child, you ought so to pray, that you are willing to be resigned-whether you obtain relief, or, in its stead, receive something else, which is better for you because more conformable to the divine will: or whether you taste sweetness, or experience bitterness.

For that prayer is not the best, in which the greatest consolations are felt; since what is sweet is not always useful, nor is that which is bitter always hurtful. Nay, more, in man’s present state, sweetness is wont to do harm, bitterness to be advantageous.

That is the best prayer from which you go with greater humility and greater charity and feel so disposed that in order to do the good pleasure of God, you are willing to go against whatever is pleasing to nature, and to embrace what-ever is displeasing thereto.

How pitiful a sight before God and angels and men, to see persons who daily pray long and much, go thence, and carry nothing away with them but faults of negligence and abuse of grace, or a more delicate pride and self-love; having in nowise become better inclined towards their duties, nor abler to bear the defects of their neighbour, nor to curb their own inclinations.

You, My son, do you pray better, as taught by My example. Pray and overcome nature; pray and resign and conform yourself to the divine good pleasure.

These arduous efforts shall not long be needed. Yet a little while, and you shall no longer prepare yourself for tribulations, nor encourage yourself in them; but you shall sing glad and glorious triumphs with the Saints, who all have come out of great tribulation, and who now, in their reward, are enraptured by the unbroken excess of rejoicings, and exult for evermore.

6. THE VOICE OF THE DISCIPLE.-Thanks be to You, most compassionate Jesus true comforter of all that are in trouble; thanks to You, for that You console me so disinterestedly and so gently, amid all the repugnance I am wont to feel in regard to sufferings; and for that, at so great a cost to Yourself, you did open for me a source of remedies in every affliction.

O sweet Jesus, my love and my every good! I beg and implore you, bestow upon me the grace always and everywhere to repose with You in the divine will, and to continue thus with You for ever.

HOW FROM THE EXAMPLE OF THE MOST SACRED HEART OF JESUS WE SHOULD IEARN TO ENDURE BODILY AILMENTS AND PAINS

1. THE VOICE OF JESUS -My child, after the scourging, while My whole body was dripping with blood, behold the soldiers led Me into the courtyard of the governor’s residence and there gathered together the whole band. And plaiting a crown of thorns, they placed the same cruelly upon my head; and a reed in my right hand. And they came one by one, and bending the knee before Me, they mocked Me; and rising, they took the reed and struck My head with the same, so that the points of the thorns, driven in ever deeper, pierced My head on every side.

Now, My child, My suffering had come to an unutterable excess; and even to My latest sigh, as long as the crown remained, were they to go on with ever-increasing violence.

Behold, I dragged Myself, My limbs worn, My joints bruised, all My senses sickly, weary, and, through the excess of pain, hardly under My control.

From the sole of the foot, even to the top of My head. there was in Me no soundness, neither within nor without.

My child you will never more perfectly understand these torments of My Passion than when you shall suffer similar ones; when you feel your body writhing with pain, and your soul undone by afflictions.

When man is despoiled of fortune, reputation, or other external possessions, it is hard, indeed and distressing to nature; but it is much harder and much more distressful to be tortured by the pains of bodily ailments.

For in these outward things, by greatness of soul, with the aid of grace, a person can raise himself so far as either to forget or not to heed the cause and effect of his troubles; but in bodily ailments, he cannot avoid feeling that which he feels, and whatsoever he may do, always and everywhere he has his aching self with him.

However, if sickness is the greater pain, it procures also greater advantages for him that suffers rightly.

Wherefore child, let it be your chief care to endure the same with a heart well-disposed, and to follow therein, as much as you can the dispositions of My Heart.

3. And first, when you feel any indisposition, accept it as a dispensation of the love of My Heart, and say, at least interiorly; Blessed be the Lord, because He has visited His servant! And although you feel that you do so only with difficulty, do not neglect it; for you will thereby more easily overcome reluctant nature, and gain the more merit.

Next, resign yourself to the divine will in the best manner you are able, and renew this holy resignation as frequently as possible, being assured that you shall derive the greatest strength and comfort.

Afterwards, unite your sufferings with Mine, and this by repeated acts, for various ends, which your need, advantage, or even your piety may suggest.

By this divine union, which overflows with the junction of grace, your afflictions will be soothed, and will become for you lighter and sweeter.

Lastly, to help you to persevere and to possess your soul in peace constantly withdraw as far as possible, your attention, and even your thoughts from the causes of your sufferings and from the sufferings themselves; direct your mind to My example and the unconquerable patience of the Saints; and think how boundless, how sweet a reward you shall obtain in heaven, unless you lose it by voluntary impatience.

4. Meanwhile, My child, since you need much grace, and can of yourself do nothing profitable, according to your strength persist in prayer especially in short and fervent aspirations, addressing Me in these or similar terms: Behold, Lord, he whom You did love even to death is sick . . . Lord, grant me patience. Give me resignation. . . . Grant me to be united with you unto the end.

And if your infirmity increases, you will exhibit a conduct most worthy of a disciple of My Heart if you do actually offer to Me your body, as a living victim, and accept death at the time and in the manner which may be most pleasing to Me.

Know, my child, that whatsoever you may do to the contrary, you shall occasionally be inclined to dejection of spirits.

Remember that this is the effect of sickly and languishing nature, whereby you should not at all be made uneasy. Only take care you do not yield to it, or indulge it of your own accord. For by giving scope and indulgence to the same, you would both increase your sufferings and render your heart itself ill-disposed.

If at any time your suffering and anguish should bring you so far as to be hardly able to use the powers of your soul with consciousness, remain you quietly in My arms; neither do you endeavour, with violence or anxiety, to excite within you any acts or affections, but be satisfied with remaining calmly resigned to Me.

Blessed is he that in sickness adhered perseveringly to the saving will of My Father. For so long as he is united to the divine good pleasure, he reposes upon My heart, and all is safe.

My child, do not be despondent in mind, nor feel distressed on account of the greatness or the length of your sufferings; remember that several of the Saints dragged out a life amidst the pains of sickness, and thereby sanctified themselves because they were resigned; and reflect that however great and lasting your pain may be, it is as nothing compared to the unmeasured and ever-enduring joy whereby your patience shall be rewarded in heaven.

Call to mind that My torments and My martyrdom lasted as long as My life; and remember that I endured all this willingly for love of you. By these things you shall be much assisted to bear with constancy your afflictions for love of Me.

5. Show not yourself voluntarily peevish or impatient toward them that take care of you. Your illness will often make them appear to you careless or neglectful.

So often that it is needful or useful, you may freely make known with humility and charity whatsoever you think is necessary or advantageous for you. But, meanwhile, you should feel so disposed that, whether your desire be granted or refused, you will continue calm and resigned.

Patiently bear, as not the least portion of your illness, whatsoever you may have to endure from them that have care of you. For under the disagreeable circumstances wherein you are placed this may have great merit.

6. Beware, my child, lest, under pretence of infirmity, you indulge the flesh. Herein do many err, who by sickness are not only not made better, but rather worse, becoming lovers of the body and slaves of their passions.

Give to the body what is due to the body; but neither in good nor in ill health, neither in life nor in death, minister food to the inordinate propensities of the flesh; which, as in health so also in sickness, are dangerous, and therefore to be mortified.

In a spirit of mortification, submit to whatever unpleasant remedies may be prescribed. This mortification is the more precious, and a proof of purer love for Me, as it is irksome and further removed from natural inclination.

7. Whilst you are sick, child, do not trouble yourself with desires of attending to your office or employment, of labouring for yourself or others, or performing work of piety or, in fine, of doing other good things which are incompatible with your infirmity.

Such things serve for nothing but to cause you useless affliction, to disquiet you to no good purpose, and to displease Me.

Those things I do not now require of you. My child; what I ask for the present is, that you suffer a good heart and be resigned to the divine will,

Do now what I desire of you, and leave all the rest to My providence, that knows how to order everything rightly without you.

8. Look to it, My child, that when sick you be not anxious to follow your own guidance. For it is especially at this time that, being blinded, you would blindly lead yourself into some precipice.

Harken religiously to your superiors, and suffer yourself to be directed by Me through them. Honour the physician for the need you have of him, and obey him in simplicity of heart.

Do not harm yourself, through negligence or carelessness, whilst you are sick; but use remedies in reasonable manner, praying God, from whom is all healing, that, if it be for your good, He may deign to heal you.

Having done so, how serious soever the disease may be believe that it is something advantageous for you, since, it is the divine will.

Come, My child, be willingly a martyr to suffering for My love, who, through every excess of pains, became the chief of all martyrs.

Have patience, O child of My Heart; have patience! behold, still a little while, and your grief shall be turned into joy; and I Myself who for love of you was crowned with thorns-I will crown you with honour and glory.

9. THE VOICE OF THE DISCIPLE.-Blessed are You, O Lord, Who did visit Your servant, that in time You might mercifully prepare me for eternity

I suffer much, Lord Jesus; You know it. Assist me with Your grace; strengthen me with Your love. If you will that my pain be lasting, increase Your grace, increase my patience.

THAT JESUS CRUCIFIED, BY PRAYING FOR HIS EXECUTIONERS, MANIFESTS THE INFINITE GOODNESS OF HIS HEART TOWARD SINNERS; AND THAT, BY GRIEVOUS SIN, THESE CRUCIFY HIM ANEW

1. THE VOICE OF JESUS. -My child, behold, at last we have come to Golgotha, to Mount Calvary. They lay down the cross forthwith, they push forward and hurry on everything.

And when they were now ready, raising a shout, they cruelly fastened Me to the cross driving in the nails with violent and repeated strokes, which the valley below re-echoed to the sky, each one of which pierced the Heart of My Mother, there present.

Thus, child, did they pierce My hands and My feet; they counted all My bones, which by the stretching of My body, could be seen distinctly.

Then could you behold the cross ruthlessly raised, and Myself hanging between heaven and earth; whilst the Blood flowed from every wound, washing the earth, and crying to heaven for the salvation of man.

And, to increase My torments, they raised on crosses two thieves, one at My right hand and one at My left, so that I was hanging between them.

But, behold, so soon as I was elevated on the cross, darkness overspread the whole earth. The sun and the moon together in mourning hid their light, and wrapped the world in doleful grief.

The people stood looking on. They that passed by, shaking their heads, blasphemed Me. But they that stood around mocked Me; in like manner also the chiefs of the priests, with the Scribes and elders, insulted Me by derisive gestures The soldiers, too, jeered at Me, and, adding insults, they offered Me vinegar. All, in fine, sated Me with reproaches.

And, amidst all this, what was I doing, child? What My Heart? Father, I exclaimed, unfolding My Heart-Father, forgive them; they know not what they do; they know not how enormous is the crime which they are committing.

2. The Angels wept at this spectacle; all nature recoiled with horror, amazed at so great a wickedness of men, awestruck at the marvellous goodness of My Heart.

You alone, wicked sinner, remain unmoved while the universe trembles; you, while heaven and earth are terrorstricken, renew the tortures of My Passion.

Behold, by sinning again, you give a new cause for My death; you perpetrate afresh that for which I was nailed to the cross, that for which I died.

Nay, more, since by My grace, and by your own experience you know Me better, and are bound to requite Me with greater gratitude and a more tender love, if you do again deliver Me up by sin, you have a greater sin than they that crucified Me; you super-add to the painfulness of My wounds; you pierce My Heart, not when It is dead, but while It is living; by your cruelty, as far as in you lies, you slay Me, the Author of life, the Judge of your everlasting destiny.

3. O most wretched of men! does naught of all this move your heart? More wicked than Judas the betrayer, you say to your vile passions: What will ye give to me, and I will deliver Him to you?

And, placed between the passions which allure you, and Myself Who forbid you, you exclaim: Not this One, but Barrabas

And when your conscience cries out against you: What, then, shall I do with Jesus? you shout, by your actions: Let Him be crucified! let Him be crucified!

And-oh fearful crime!-wishing to gratify your desires, with Pilate you give Me up to be scoffed at, to be scourged, to be crucified

Is this, O man-is this the return you make to Me, Who created you, Who redeemed you, Who preserved you? Have all My favours, so great and so numerous, come to this, that for all these things you make again a mockery of Me, and nail Me to the cross?

4. Oh, if you did realise how frightful an evil you are committing when you sin in this manner, how could you venture to do it? how can you have the hardihood?

Do you desire to know how great an evil grievous sin is? Consider how, in order to atone for it, I, the only Son of God, did give-not the world, not heaven, not mankind, not the Angels-but My own Self, the Lord of heaven and earth, of men and Angels, so as to pour out My Blood, and lay down My very life, amid torments surpassing all understanding.

Do you wish to know this still more clearly? Reflect, with a living faith, how sin renders all the torments of My Passion useless, and renews the same, in most cruel manner, for your greater condemnation.

Assuredly, the malice of sin is nowhere seen more evidently than in My Passion; neither could the enormity of sin have ever been known so clearly, if I had not died for it upon the cross.

Weep, then, sinner-weep for yourself, and over your future lot; for if in the green wood, if in Me, the sins of others do produce such an effect, what will your own sins, so great and so numerous, do in the dry wood, in you?

If the Angels when they yielded to pride, were not spared, but were dealt with according to justice, how much greater punishments, do you think does that man deserve who tramples upon the Son of God, even after he has crucified Him?

Be not deceived, be not over-confident, because you are not punished on the spot: for now I endure: in time I give way to mercy, because for the exercise of justice I have an eternity.

If you so will, you can fill up the measures of the sins which are tolerated in you. I will not take away your free will. I desire from men no service extorted by necessity.

Behold, from the treasury of My Heart I have poured out upon you abundant grace; if you will co-operate efficaciously, I will give thee an incomparable reward; if, on the contrary, you will not, look you to it; you shall bear the consequences.

But lo! I am still your Saviour, still your Father, ready to receive you in My arms; but afterwards you shall find Me a just judge and Retributor.

Have pity on your soul, while it is yet time; and do not render yourself for ever unhappy, by misusing that passion whereby you can secure for yourself everlasting bliss.

5. Come, oh, come to the cross; here the kindness of your Saviour is made manifest; here the greatness of _My fatherly affection shines forth; here My Wounds do not only move to sorrow and penitence, but, likewise offer both pardon and grace; here the voice of My Blood, with a loud cry, makes intercession for you; here, finally My Heart burns with desire for your eternal salvation.

Contemplate, gaze upon Me, the Son of God, nailed to the cross, and dying for sin; and you will detest the same with your whole heart, and turn again to serve Me with fervour; even as the crowd of those that were present on Calvary, and beheld this spectacle, returned striking their breasts.

If you are tempted to sin again, fly to the cross; and, looking upon Me hanging theron, say to yourself: Behold, the Son of God dies upon a cross to save me: shall I crucify Him anew, in order to damn myself? Should I do this, can there be in hell punishments enough to punish, according to its deserts, so great an iniquity?

In every contest with the devil, you can contend with him in no more advantageous place than beneath the cross; for here was he despoiled of his sway and strength; here you shall easily triumph over him.

6. And you, my child, did you understand what I say? Did you fully comprehend what horrible things the sinner does against Me, when he sins grievously? Can you behold unmoved all this? are you not willing to use your every effort to hinder such things?

See how important a matter it is to prevent sin, since, by so doing, you hinder Me from being again overwhelmed with reproaches, from being again torn to pieces by scourges, from being again crucified, at least in desire, by the sinner.

Wherefore, should you prevent only one sin, you would do something greater and better than if you should preserve your country from destruction.

Can you love Me, and not care to turn away so great an evil from Me? If love does not inflame you, let compassion at least move you to take care that I be not again subjected to insults so great and manifold.

You make profession of being a disciple of My Heart; of you, therefore, I ask, of you I desire with My innermost Heart, that, by yourself and by others, whomsoever you can induce thereto, you strive, as much as you can, always and everywhere to prevent sin, and to make amends to Me by the fidelity of thy love for the cruel ingratitude of sinners.

7. THE VOICE OF THE DISCIPLE.-But I also, Lord Jesus, am a sinful person. I am not worthy, I confess it to thee, to be called a disciple of Thy Heart.

O most benign and sweet Jesus I humbly implore You, grant me grace to make amends, for the great wrongs I have done You, and to love You, during the remainder of my life, with the more fervour and tenderness, the kinder and sweeter You have been to me.

HOW GREAT A TENDERNESS OF HEART JESUS MANIFESTED TOWARDS US WHEN HE GAVE US HIS OWN MOTHER AS OUR MOTHER

1. THE VOICE OF JESUS. -Behold, My child, there stood beneath the cross the Virgin Mary, My Mother, whom neither affliction of heart, nor the insults of the crowd, nor the cruelty of the executioners, nor the danger of death could part from Me.

For she was prepared in her heart either to die in My presence, or to be present while I was dying. There also stood the disciple who, by the innocence of his life, was most endeared to Me, and who, at the last Supper reposing upon My Breast, was inflamed with the love of My Heart.

When I saw My Virgin Mother and the virgin disciple, whom My Heart loved, looking upon My Mother, I said: Woman, behold thy son. Then to the disciple, as to one representing all mankind: Behold thy Mother, and from that hour the disciple took her as a mother.

2. Behold, then, My child, when men were incessantly heaping new and more cruel torments upon Me, when the malice of the human heart most overflowed, then, more than ever, overflowed the love of My Heart.

When about to expire and to go away into My kingdom, I did not wish to leave My disciples orphans, but, in My love, I resolved to give them a mother, the best of all mothers, My own Mother herself.

Nay, more, on account of the eminent dignity of My Mother, and My perfect love for her, it was becoming that I should manifest every solicitude and every care for her, that I should provide for her the honour and love which were and are her due.

For this it was befitting that, always and everywhere, I and she being known together, should also be loved together.

And, indeed, even from the beginning of the world, when God promised Me as a Saviour to man groaning beneath the tyranny of the infernal serpent, He promised also My Mother.

This divine promise, so full of all consolation, was spread among the whole posterity of the first man, and ever continued to be cherished with a religious reverence. For although it was obscured among the nations, it was preserved always unchanged among the people of God; and from time to time it was renewed through the Prophets and unfolded the more clearly, the more nearly the fulness of time was at hand when God would send His own Son to be born of the Virgin Mary.

Wherefore, My child, those whom from eternity, in the counsels of His mercy, God had joined together, whom He had promised together, them also were men expecting, for them together they were longing. For often as they did exclaim with a sign to My Father in heaven: Drop down dew, ye heavens, from above, and let the clouds rain down the just! so often they sighed for My future Mother: Let the earth be opened, and bud forth the Saviour!

3. When at length I came into the world as the Saviour, behold, I was seen with My Virgin Mother! From the time I possessed a created Heart, this Heart was inseparably united to the Heart of My Mother.

I ever honoured and loved the Virgin in a manner worthy of her as My Mother; and she in return honoured and loved Me not only as her Son, but also worshipped and cherished Me as her God.

There is no created being upon earth, nor in heaven, that has honoured and loved Me, that has worshipped and cherished Me, as much as My Virgin Mother. She, by herself, she alone, by her worship and love, has incomparably surpassed and excelled all the Saints and Angels together.

Nor is there anywhere a heart which is so much united, so acceptable to My Heart, as in the heart of My Virgin Mother.

And should not I honour, should not I love, such a Mother? and should not I wish to see her honoured and loved always and everywhere? It is thus My Heart is known.

4. Verily, verily, I say, wheresoever the Gospel shall be preached in the whole world it will be said, that My Mother has done these things for Me, and that I have been subject to her. Nay, even to the end of time, wheresoever I shall be worshipped and loved as a Saviour, there also shall Mary be honoured and loved as a Mother.

Moreover, in whatsoever place My religion shall exist, it will ennoble the mind of man and elevate the condition of woman.

For whence, think you, has there arisen in the mind of everyone of the faithful so great an esteem for innocence, and so humane a feeling for woman, except from My most pure and august Virgin Mother

Uncivilised barbarism made woman a slave of misery civilised infidelity, made her an idol of the passions; error in religion, an instrument of deceit; the true religion alone made her truly free and truly estimable, preserves her free and worthy of honour, by ever proposing to her as a model the Virgin Mother of God.

5. Behold, then, My child, behold your Mother, who adopted you beneath the cross while she was suffering with Me. You shall honour her all the days of your life, remembering what, together with Me, she suffered for you. Acknowledge the greatness of the gift which, when dying, My Heart bequeathed to you by giving you such a Mother. What is there better that It could have given to you? Behold, in all the world there is nothing dearer to My Heart, nothing sweeter for you than this best of mothers!

For her maternal heart overflows with an extraordinary compassion, love and solicitude; nor can she forget to cherish the children whom, amidst such sorrows, she received from Me when I was expiring.

Her heart, modelled after Mine, is open to all under the sweetest of apellations-the Heart of a Mother; so that all they that have recourse to it are easily admitted, kindly received, and introduced by her to My Heart.

Through the Virgin Mary I came to men, through her also must men come to Me.

Whatsoever graces, therefore, you desire to obtain from Me, entrust it to Mary; that My Mother and your Mother may appeal to My Heart in your favour, and prove that she is a Mother.

She will certainly be heard for the veneration due to her; for it is not becoming that I turn away My face from My Mother, or refuse her anything. A mother’s rights which she possessed and exercised upon earth, she has not lost in heaven, where she reigns with Me, the Queen of Angels and of all the Saints.

If any one come to Me through My Virgin Mother, he shall not be cast off, but he shall be admitted even into My Heart, and he shall learn by experience how great is the height and depth and the breadth of the power which My Mother possesses over My Heart.

6. As I by nature have God as My Father, and Mary as My Mother, so also, My child, if, by adoption, you desire to have God as your Father, you must have Mary as your Mother.

And if you are desirous to find Mary your Mother, show yourself a son; do not sadden her Heart by grieving My Heart through sin; for accursed is he that angers his mother.

But a twofold curse, a twofold woe, to them that venture to destroy or to diminish the honour and love due to My Mother! for as the praises, so are also the sneers, aimed at My Mother, flung back at Me, her Son.

Therefore, also, shall her enemies be infamous; yea, whosoever shall sin against her shall hurt his own soul. But they that make her known, by duly honouring and loving her, shall have life everlasting.

Do not think that Mary is merely equal to the Saints and Angels, or even that she is the first among them, for she forms an order above all the rest of creatures; so that, far surpassing all the Saints and the heavenly Spirits, she beholds none above her except Myself, with the Father and the Holy Ghost.

Therefore, she must be honoured with a special worship and an affection all her own. Love and honour her, child, as much as you are able you can not offend by excess, so long as you do not honour and love her as a divinity.

Above all, learn of Mary to follow My Heart perfectly; for she kept all My words and all My examples, meditating on them in her heart; and thus she attained to the teaching of My Heart, whose life and virtues and sentiments she showed forth and expressed to perfection in herself.

Blessed shall you be, My child, if you do so venerate Mv Virgin Mother. Through her you shall find the way to holiness to the interior lift easy and pleasant; through her you shall obtain mercy and grace and comfort, and everything else that is necessary or useful to thee; through her, finally, you shall be and continue with Me.

To her, therefore, have recourse under all circumstances, at all times. What can you fear? You are a son, she is a mother. Why should you hesitate? Behold, no one goes to her in vain; all receive, through her the world salvation, the captive redemption, the sinner, hope, the just, glory, the Angels, joy.

8. THE VOICE OF THE DISCIPLE-O Jesus, my Saviour-God! You give me Your own Mother as a Mother! Who has ever heard anything like this? You alone, O Lord, could draw such a gift from the treasury of Your Heart and bestow the same upon us sinners.

Thanks to You, most loving Jesus! Eternal thanks to You for so great a gift, so kindly bestowed upon me most unworthy.

So long as this heart of mine shall be capable of loving, I will love you, O Mother of Jesus and my Mother! Yea, it will burn to influence all hearts with the same fire of love, that we may all begin upon earth to love you, for the sake of Jesus, and Jesus for His own dear sake; that thus we may deserve to be made blissful in heaven, and continue to love and to cherish throughout joyous and endless years.

THE HEART OF JESUS, AFTER HIS DEATH OPENED FOR LOVE OF US, IS THE REFUGE AND SOLACE OF ALL

1.-THE VOICE OF THE DISCIPLE. See Jesus dying upon the cross! O spectacle! O God, behold Thy Son! O Mary, behold thy Jesus! O Angels, look on, and weep!

* * * * * *

2. But, behold, one of the soldiers, with a spear opened His Side, and immediately there issued forth Blood and

Water. New miracle of love! Manifold mystery!

The Heart of Jesus is opened that thence may be formed His only one, His perfect one, His Virgin Spouse, the Holy

Church.

Blood and water issued forth; Blood that redeems, Water that cleanses souls. The Water flows, that by the laver of

Baptism men may be born again into the Church; the Blood flows, that by the fruit of His Heart, the most Holy

Sacrament, they may be perfected in the Church.

Jesus willed that His Heart should be opened, to show us that, even after the end of His life, He does by no means cease to cherish us; and to convince us that, even after His death, His Heart is burning with love for us. Finally, He willed that It should be opened, that we might possess in His Heart a permanent place of refuge, solace, everything necessary and useful.

He willed that His Heart should not merely be wounded, but that It should be opened, and continue open, that there might ever be access, that the door might ever remain unclosed, through which he that enters in shall be saved, and shall go in and go out and find the pastures of life ever-lasting.

3. Behold, then, through the opening of the side, the innermost of His Heart is seen; that great mystery of love is revealed, the designs of the Mercy of our God are unclosed, whereby He visited us, He the Orient from on high. Jesus willed to retain for ever the visible wound of His Heart, whence the invisible wound of His love is made to appear, that It may not be only the place of refuge for mortals, but likewise the paradise of the blessed. Hence, it is, that, from this fountain of the Saviour, men upon earth draw with joy the living waters of all gifts and graces; and the Angels and Saints in heaven obtain with exultation ever-flowing streams of admiration and praise, and thanksgiving, and never-ending love.

4. O my souls! lift up your eyes to Jesus; see your own Beloved; view that Heart wounded by love, opened by love. Behold, the opened Breast displays the affections of His Heart; the wound proves to what an extent that Heart cherishes you.

The whole appearance shows that Jesus, your Beloved above all, is truly meek and humble of Heart. The Heart of your Jesus, behold, is open; It is opened that you may draw near and enter therein; that to Him you may give and deliver up your heart.

5. Behold the unfathomable abyss of goodness; who shall measure the same? who shall comprehend its depth and breadth? Neither man nor Angel shall ever comprehend its bounds.

Who among the unfortunate can dread to approach the Heart of Him, Who died for love of the wretched; yea, who even keeps His Heart open, that to all may be given a free entrance.

Gaze upon the Heart of Jesus, Who died for you; and His evident love, stronger than death, more vigorous than life, all sweetness, will expel fear, will remove distrust, will cast aside faint-heartedness, will arouse faith, will strengthen hope, will enkindle love-and you will go to immerse yourself in this ocean of goodness. If ever you become forgetful of the love of Jesus, or doubt His affection, turn yourself to Him, and hearken; His wounded Heart will cry out how He loves, how much He cherishes; and will cry out again that you should love in return, that you should requite his affection.

If you are straitened, if you are troubled, hasten, run to this foundation of every grace, to this gushing spring of all consolation.

If your unfaithfulness frighten you, let your confidence and courage be cheered on by the tokens of benignity of the

Heart of Jesus, His head bowed down, His arms out-stretched, His breast glowing with love for you. In every peril, in every difficulty, throw yourself confidingly upon the Heart of Jesus; cast your anxieties upon

Him, because He has a care of you.

And if you have done any good action, if you have gained any merit, hide it safely in the Heart of Jesus, that this

Sacred Heart may sanctify the same by Its virtue, may keep it from the thief, vain-glory, and from the moth, self-love; and may guard it for the day of final retribution.

Nihil Obstat:

JOSEPH P. NEWTH, C.C., Censor Theol. Depot.

Imprimi Potest:

@ IOANNES CAROLUS,

Archiep. Dublinen., Hiberniae Primas,. Dublini, die 27 Februarii, anno 1957

********

Heaven

BY REV D F MACDAID, D.D., PH.D

INDEX

The English word “heaven” signifies the blue expanse of sky surrounding the earth, in which the sun, moon, and stars seem to be placed. In this sense it often takes the plural form “heavens.” In Christian use it signifies, besides, the final abode of blessed souls, or the state of final happiness.

The existence of a place and state of happiness, promised to those who depart from this world in the state of grace, is abundantly clear from numerous texts of Sacred Scripture. It is variously spoken of by our Lord as the kingdom of heaven, the kingdom of God,the kingdom of the Father, the Father’s house, etc. By St. Paul it is called paradise, the city of the living God, the heavenly Jerusalem, an incorruptible crown etc; by St. Peter, a never-fading crown of glory. This kingdom is possessed by the poor in spirit and by those who suffer persecution for justice sake; there the clean of heart shall see God,there also the just will be as the angels, who always see the face of the Father Who is in heaven.” At the Last Judgment, before the whole world, Christ will solemnly say to the just: “Come, ye blessed of My Father, possess you the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world”; and these will go into life everlasting.

The location of heaven is not known with certainty. The church has never defined anything on the subject, for Revelation tells us nothing definite concerning it: for us it is more important to know how to win heaven than to learn its whereabouts. This uncertainty has given rise to different opinions. Some think that since the possession of God is the source of the happiness of the blessed, as God is everywhere, so heaven is everywhere. The defenders of this view eliminate from heaven the restrictions and obstacles which space and distance, as we know them on this earth, oppose to freedom and communication, so that the blessed, while they move through the universe, everywhere remain united with one another, with the angels, and with the Sacred Humanity of Christ.

The more common opinion among theologians, however regards heaven as a special place outside this earth, where the blessed and the angels usually dwell, even though they may at will go about through the universe. The various names by which heaven is called, many of which are given above, seem to indicate a special place Besides, it seems more in conformity with the happy state of the blessed that they should have place specially prepared by God for them; more particularly as the bodies of the just will enter heaven after the General Resurrection. For in heaven God will have special pleasures for the body, of a, refined and elevated kind unknown, or little known to us in this world.

From the foregoing it appears how groundless is the assertion made by a writer in a London paper some years ago that the Catholic doctrine of heaven is based on the ancient belief in geocentricism, and should perish with the proved falsity of an obsolete cosmic theory. The doctrine of the existence of, Haven, as we have seen, is founded on God’s word, made clear especially in the New Testament; it should not be confused with speculations about the position of heaven in which the medieval Scholastics, who accepted the geocentric theory, were out to indulge.

The essential happiness of heaven consists in possessing God, that is, in knowing God in Himself, and in the love and enjoyment consequent on this knowledge, This is called the essence of eternal happiness for the reason that only the possession of God is capable of rendering man perfectly happy. Moreover, in God man has every good he may desire. Besides the possession of God, the elect enjoy many other blessings (as we shall see later), yet these are so immensely inferior to God, and so incapable of satisfying the aspirations of the human soul, that by themselves they would not suffice for man’s eternal happiness. St. Augustine expresses this in a beautiful saying addressed to the Almighty: “ Thou hast made us for Thyself, and our heart shall not find rest until it rest in Thee.”

We have said that the happiness of heaven consists in knowing God as He is in Himself, clearly and distinctly. In this life we know something of God, not in Himself, but only in and through His creatures. As a result, our knowledge is very dim and imperfect. We form a vague idea of His beauty from the beauties of nature and of art; of His love, goodness, and mercy, from the tenderness, kindness, and forgiveness which we see in those human hearts that love us dearly; of His immensity and infirmity from the vast expanse of the sea or of the firmament. Yet we must admit that all these things are far from representing God as He is in Himself for He is infinitely superior to them all. We must remove from Him all the imperfections inherent in creatures. Again, much of our knowledge is purely negative; for example, we are not able to form to ourselves a proper concept of God’s infinitude: we merely think of Him as being “without limit” This process of knowledge by means of creatures is called abstractive, and analogical; it is vastly inferior to the knowledge of the blessed in heaven, which is called intuitive, because they know or see God in Himself.

It is a dogma of Faith, defined by Pope Benedict XII in 1336, that the blessed in heaven see God face to face. By the word “see,” we do not mean ocular vision, or the action of bodily sight: God, being a spirit, can no more be seen by the eye than the utmost thoughts of our fellowmen. The term, which is equivalent to “knowing clearly,” is transferred from the act of sight to the act of the mind, because of the clearness of knowledge in heaven, and because of a resemblance between the action of the mind and that of the eyes, the noblest and subtlest of the five senses. Similarly, the expression “face to face” is a metaphor used to express the intimacy and intuitiveness of the, knowledge of God which the blessed enjoy, taken from The fact that we know a person most familiarly and most dearly when we see him and converse with him face to face. It is hardly necessary to add that since God is a spirit we must exclude from Him a literal meaning of the word “face.” The intuitive knowledge of God which the blessed have is called the beatific vision, that is, the vision which renders them supremely happy.

That the blessed know God directly and immediately is a doctrine clearly taught in Holy Scripture. St. Paul says: “We see now through a mirror in a dark manner; but then face to face. Now I know in part; but then I shall know even as I am known,” that is, I shall know God in the same way as I am known by Him, directly and immediately. And St. John tells us: Dearly beloved, we are now the sons of God; and it hath not yet appeared what we shall be, We know that when He shall appear we shall be like to Him; because we shall see Him as He is”

As God subsists in three distinct Persons, the blessed see these Persons, and have a clear understanding of what We on earth call the mystery of the Blessed Trinity, which is indeed a mystery to us but to the blessed in heaven is an evident fact.

We said above that the happiness of heaven consists not merely in knowing God in Himself, but also in the love and enjoyment consequent on this knowledge. We speak of eternal happiness mostly as knowledge or vision, because the vision of God is the source of happiness from which the beatific love and joy flow. Hence in our consideration of heaven we are concerned principally with the vision. That the blessed love God is asserted by St. Paul “Charity (i.e., supernatural love) never falleth away.” So ecstatic and so rapturous is this love that the soul, while retaining its identity, becomes as it were Immersed in God; its will is in perfect conformity with His will; His desires inflame it with desire; it loves Him and is for ever loved by Him.

It is clear that the blessed experience for eternity an unspeak able joy in “he possession of God Whom they love so intensely, For He is the Supreme Good, in Whom they have every good which their souls may desire. Of this joy our Lord spoke- secondarily, at least, but in the fuller meaning of the words-in His farewell discourse to His Apostles after the Last Supper: “I will see you again, and your heart shall rejoice, and your joy no one shall take from you.”

The happiness of heaven, or the beatific vision, is supernatural, that is, it is altogether above the nature, the powers, and the claims of creatures, both of men and of angels. To see God in Himself is not within the power of the unaided human or angelic mind; neither is it in any way due to our nature or to that of the angels, but is purely a gratuitous gift of God granted out of sheer liberality and love.

For the clearer understanding of this doctrine it should be noted that the eternal happiness of man is of a twofold kind, natural and supernatural. Natural happiness is the happiness due to virtuous man in accordance with his nature and powers. We have seen that man is capable by his own powers of acquiring only an abstractive and analogical knowledge of God from the created world. Natural happiness consists, therefore, in a perfect knowledge of God of an analogical kind, based on the creatures amidst which the lot of the disembodied soul is cast, and more easily acquired than during the present life, with the natural love of God and joy in knowing Him consequently upon such knowledge. Man’s natural desire of everlasting happiness can be satisfied with such a knowledge and love, more than this is not due to him.

God, however, in His goodness, has elevated us to the supernatural happiness of the vision, and has given us in sanctifying grace a right thereto; consequently, the beatific vision is due to the soul which leaves this world adorned with grace. But in conferring sanctifying grace upon us God has given us something to which we have no claim. Supernatural happiness does not destroy the natural happiness due to us, but includes it and immeasurably surpasses it, To use a comparison, it is as if instead of paying a friend merely what you owe him, you present him with an amount a hundred thousand times greater. Man has no choice between natural and supernatural happiness if he loses the latter through his own fault he suffers eternal punishment.

That the beatific vision is supernatural with regard to both men and angels is a dogma of Faith resulting from the condemnation of the opposite error of the Beghards and Beguines by the Council of Vienne (in the South of France) in 1311; and from the condemnation by Pope Pius V in 1567 of a similar error of Baius. The Vatican Council, in 1870, teaches that God has elevated man to a supernatural destiny.

The Scriptural proof of the supernatural character of the vision is found in several passages of the New Testament. St. Paul says: “The grace of God, life everlasting.” Life everlasting is a grace, a free gift of God. In St. John we read “Behold what manner of charity the Father hath bestowed upon us, that we should be called, and should be the sons of God.”

Dearly beloved, we are now the sons of God, and it hath not yet appeared what we shall be. We know that when He shall appear, we shall be like to Him, because we shall see Him as He is.” From this text it is clear that God has adopted us as His children, by grace in this life, and by the vision, to which grace entitles us, in the next. St. Paul expressly tells us of out adoption: You have received the spirit of adoption of sons, whereby we cry: Abba (Father). For the Spirit Himself giveth testimony to our spirit that we are the sons of God. And if sons, heirs also heirs indeed of God, and joint heirs with Christ.” Now no creature, neither man nor angel, is by nature an adopted natural power of any creature to attain to such an exalted relation with his Creator. All creatures are of their very nature the servants of God, infinitely inferior to Him in essence, in rank, and in power, with no claim to the sublime dignity of sonship with Him, with the consequences which sonship entails-familiarity with Him, and a right to a share in His possessions (Which are God Himself). This consideration shows that the beatific vision is supernatural not only in regard to existing creatures, angels and men, but also in regard to all creatable beings.

Reason itself recognizes that it is altogether above the nature, the powers, and the claims of every created being to know God in Himself. The mode of knowing follows the mode of being, since knowing is the act of the subject which knows. An intelligent creature, therefore, knows God, a being of a higher order, according to the creature’s own mode of being. In the case of every creature this is infinitely inferior to God’s mode of being, for God is pure Existence, while every creature of its Very nature has only participated, finite existence. Therefore, no creature can by its own power know God as He is in Himself; consequently, it has no natural claim to such knowledge.

Since the blessed intellect can not by its own power see God in Himself, it requires a special help from Him for that purpose. This help is called by theologians “the light of glory.” In the Council of Vienne it was defined against the Beghards and Beguines that the soul needs the light of glory or the beatific vision. The help which God gives to the blessed intellect is called a “light” by a comparison with material light which is required for bodily vision. In order to see corporal things the eye needs light; in darkness nothing is visible to it. In the same way, the intellect of the blessed needs the light of glory to enable it to see or know God in Himself; otherwise it would be in a sort of darkness with regard to Him. This help is called the light “of glory,” because it is granted only to those who have attained to true glory, who are glorified by God Himself before all their fellow-citizens of heaven; and also because the light itself is the immediate cause of the glorification of the blessed. It should be noted that the light of glory is demanded not by the defect of light, or capability of being known, on the part of God, Who is light and in Whom there is no darkness, but by the defect of power to know Him- in Himself on the part of the created intellect.

The light of glory may, therefore, be described as “a per manent, supernatural aid infused by God into the blessed intellect, to enable it to receive the Divine Essence and elicit the beatific vision.” A few of these terms need explanation.

The light of glory is said to be “permanent”; its purpose makes clear why it must be so. The vision is eternal; at every moment it is above the natural power of the intellect; hence, throughout eternity the blessed soul requires for the vision the permanent aid of the light of glory, which, accordingly, adheres in the intellect as a supernatural habit.

We speak of the blessed “intellect” seeing or knowing God in Himself. The soul of the blessed knows God through its faculty or power of knowing which we call the intellect or mind.

By the phrase, “to receive the Divine Essence,” is expressed the difference between the mode of knowing God and ordinary, natural knowledge. Our ordinary knowledge is effected by the mind’s expressing or forming in itself a mental image of the object known. In everyday speech we refer to this image as an idea or “notion.” The correct and common opinion among theologians holds that the beatific vision is effected without any, image; because no image, being of necessity a created thing, cam represent the Uncreated One as He is in Himself. Hence, in the beatific vision the Divine Essence, God, is immediately present to the soul or mind of the elect.

We say, lastly, that the intellect “elicits the beatific vision.” By this we mean that the beatific vision is the act, not of God, as some wrongly thought, but of the blessed soul itself, elevated by the light of glory-the greatest act to which an intellectual being could be raised.

Theologians see a reference to the light of glory in the following passages of Holy Writ:

“With Thee is the fountain of life; and in Thy light we shall see light.”

“We shall see light, that is, Thee, Who art Light.” That the Royal Psalmist is here referring to heaven is deduced from what he says in the preceding verse of this psalm:

“They shall be inebriated with the plenty of Thy house; and Thou shalt make them drink of the torrent of Thy pleasure.”

In St. John’s description of heaven in the Apocalypse we read: “The city (heaven) hath no need of the sun, nor of the moon to shine in it. For the glory of God hath enlightened it, and the Lamb is the lamp thereof.” By the reference to he Lamb” is meant the glorified Humanity of Christ which is as a second light in heaven for the eternal enjoyment of the bodily eyes of the blessed after the General Resurrection.

The light of glory is unequal in different souls. As a result, some of the blessed see God more perfectly than others, and, in consequence, enjoy a greater degree of happiness. This teaching was assailed by Jovinian in the fourth century and by Luther in modern times. It was solemnly defined as an article of Faith by the Council of Florence in 1439 that in heaven there are various degrees of happiness corresponding to diversity of merits. The Council of Trent in 1547 condemned the error of the pseudo-Reformers which teaches that the just by their good works do not merit an increase of glory.”

The Catholic teaching is supported by various texts of Holy Scripture. Our Lord says: “In my Father’s house there are many mansions. That these words refer to the Church in heaven is clear from the continuation of our Lord’s discourse following the text quoted. The phrase, “many mansions,” implies a difference of some kind among the heavenly dwellers. What can be the foundation of this difference but varying degrees of happiness? St. Paul says; “Every man shall receive his own reward according to his own labour.” as “He who soweth sparingly shall also reap sparingly, and he who soweth in blessings shall also reap of blessings.” And again: “ One is the glory of the sun, another the glory of the moon, and another the glory of the stars. For star differeth from star in glory. So also is the resurrection of the dead.”

From St. Paul’s words it is clear that the different degrees of happiness correspond to different degrees of merit. Supernatural merit is measured according to sanctifying grace, which in turn is greater or less according to the perfection of the good works done by the soul during its earthly life. Therefore, every good work of ours performed in the state of grace merits for us an increase of the light of glory and a consequent increase of the beatific vision and of happiness for eternity.

There is no contradiction in the teaching that all the elect see God clearly and distinctly, but some more perfectly than others. In this life different intellects understand clearly the same truth, but with varying degrees of perfection. To take one example: there is scarcely a human being come to the use of reason that does not clearly understand the truth contained in this statement; “man has a body,” or “man is an animal.” Yet how different in intensity will be the knowledge of each mind to which that truth is presented! The child and the person of no education see little in it beyond what the mere words convey.

The man of experience sees a great deal more. The person versed in anatomy knows much of the structure of the human body and how it resembles that of the higher animals; he sees still more than the others. For the biologist this simple truth contains enough subject matter to fill several volumes dealing with the origin of life, the influence of heredity, cellular organization, the shape and function of various organs, and so on. We might continue to enlarge upon this theme, but it is already evident that universal clearness and varying intensity of knowledge are compatible with each other, because of the natural differences between minds. So in heaven, the clearness of knowledge which all the blessed enjoy does not exclude higher or lower degrees of vision according to the differences of the light of glory, which varies in proportion to the merits of each soul.

Yet every soul is perfectly satisfied with its own degree of happiness, for it sees that God has rewarded it according to its merits, and that a higher degree is not due to it. And it loves God too intensely to be dissatisfied with His most just decrees. For the same reasons, and also because of the great love the blessed have for one another, no soul is envious of those placed in a higher state. Each rejoices at the happiness of the others as brothers do even in this imperfect world.

Though there are varying degrees of vision in heaven yet none of the blessed comprehends God, because He is absolutely incomprehensible to every creature. The term “comprehend” has here a special meaning. It is not used in its ordinary sense of “understanding” or “knowing”; in that sense the blessed certainly do comprehend God in a most perfect manner. In a sense akin to that, all the blessed are called comprehensors to signify that they have attained to the possession of their Supreme Good. When we say that God is incomprehensible we mean that no creature is capable of knowing Him to the extent to which in Himself He is knowable, that is, to an infinite degree. For God is infinite in nature and perfections. He is, therefore, infinitely knowable. The mind that would comprehend Him would have to equal His knowableness—it would have to be infinite. No creature has an infinite mind: consequently, no creature can comprehend God, even when it is aided by the light of glory.

The incomprehensibility of God was defined as a dogma by the Fourth Council of the Lateran in 1215, and by the Vatican Council in 1870. It is taught in Holy Scripture: “The Lord of hosts is Thy name. Great in counsel, and incomprehensible in thought. St. Paul says: “O the depth of the riches of the wisdom and of the knowledge of God! How incomprehensible are His judgments, and how unsearchable His ways!”

Here, however, we must guard against a mistake into which our imagination might lead us. We said above that in this world our knowledge of God is founded on the creatures which exist round about us. Moreover, while we are in the body we need the co-operation of our imagination-a bodily faculty seated in the brain-for all our thoughts. As a consequence, We are liable to confuse our thoughts, or mental images, with the images of our imagination. When we learn that God is incomprehensible because He is infinite, our imagination represents God’s infinity and incomprehensibility as being like the wide expanse of the sky or of the ocean, only part of which we see at the same time, while the rest is hidden from us. From this we might conclude that the blessed in heaven see only a part of God, while the rest of Him is veiled from their mental gaze. This, however, our intellect, the faculty which discerns truth, would declare to be an error. For God is a simple Being, devoid of parts, existing wholly and entirely everywhere; neatly, the mind which sees Him at all sees Him whole and entire, it can not see Him with the infinite clearness with which He is knowable; therefore, it can not comprehend Him. To use again the example given above, the child or uneducated understands the whole of the Truth: “man is an animal” because he clearly understands each of the ideas which compose it, and sees how one idea fits into the other. No part of that truth is hidden from him: yet be does not understand it with all the clearness with which it is capable of being known; for example, he does not understand it as clearly as the biologist. If we suppose that the clearness of that truth to the biologist represents the infinite clearness of the knowableness of God, we can understand how clearness of vision does not include comprehension of its Object. God alone is capable of comprehending Himself.

Hitherto we have been considering what theologians call the primary object” of the beatific vision, namely, God, with all His perfections and the Trinity of Persons. We shall now consider briefly the secondary object of the vision, the creatures, actual and possible, which the blessed see in God.

God contains in Himself all creatures and all the perfections of creatures, not physically indeed but supereminently. He would not be God, an infinite, all-perfect Being, if outside of Him there were any perfection that He did not possess. Still, creatures and their perfections do not exist in Him physically, in the same way as, for example, a stone exists in a wall or a seed in a plant, but supereminently, that is, He possesses the pure perfections of creatures, such as knowledge, wisdom, goodness, in an infinite degree in His Essence, while their mixed perfections, like bodily nature, quantity, the power of seeing, are contained in His infinite power of producing these perfections in creatures. (These are called mixed perfections because they imply some imperfection. Bodily nature is a perfection but it implies restriction and divisibility, and is vastly inferior to “the nature of a spirit; sight, or sense-knowledge in general, is a perfection, but it is limited by matter and is inferior to intellect).

Hence, the blessed see in God the perfections of creatures; their pure perfections in His Essence, without the limitations which they have in creatures; their mixed perfections in His omnipotent power. The beauty which a sculptor imparts to a block of marble when he chisels it into a statue, he already possesses in super-eminent way in his intellect and imagination. If we could know the sculptor as intimately as the blessed know God, we should see in him the beauty which he communicates to the creature of his mind and brain. In a somewhat similar way, the soul which knows God face to face sees in Him, for example, the sun, because it knows His Power by which the sun was brought into existence and is still kept in existence, while it sees the brilliancy and beauty of the sun in Him as infinite spiritual brilliancy and beauty.

Besides the creatures which have been, or will be in the future, there are myriads of possible creatures which never have been and never will be, which, however, could exist if God desired to create them. The soul which sees God sees that it is in His power to create numerous possible creatures. But no created mind can see all possible beings in God: for this it would be necessary to comprehend His infinite power and perfections, which we have shown is impossible for any created intellect. The more perfectly a soul knows God by the light of glory, the more possible creatures it sees in Him.

We turn now to the question of the actual things-by which we mean things that ever have existed or will exist in the future-which are comprised in the secondary object of the vision. It may be stated as a general principle that the blessed see in God everything that they have a reasonable desire of knowing because they have a reasonable interest in it. For it is most consonant with a state of perfect happiness that God should make known to the blessed all that they have a reasonable interest in knowing.

Hence, they know clearly all the mysteries of our Faith. This is taught by St. Paul. They understand clearly how the two natures, Divine and human, are united in Christ; how Christ is present in the Holy Eucharist; how God creates out of nothing; how He keeps the world in existence; what grace is, how it works in the intellect and will of man, and how it is produced by the Sacraments; the abiding of the Holy Ghost in the Church and in the souls of the just; why God permits evil; predestination; and many other matters of which on earth we have only the faintest notion.

Since the blessed are a part of the universe and have a reasonable interest in this handiwork of God, each of them knows in God the genera and species of all created things in the spiritual as well as in the material world, the beautiful and harmonious arrangement of at least the principal parts of the entire world, and the laws that govern movement, life and development in the universe. The knowledge, artistic or scientific which the blessed acquired on earth and elevated, at least if they elevated it on earth by applying themselves to its acquirement through supernatural motives.

Each of the blessed sees the manifold influences that worked with Divine grace towards his eternal salvation. Such are, for example, his parents, his spiritual director, the sufferings he endured while in the body.

As citizens of heaven, the blessed know the thoughts and affections of one another.

As a member of human society while on earth, each blessed knows what pertains to the position he formerly held. A Pope knows the condition of the Church; a father the fortunes of his family; a pastor, the state of his spiritual flock. The blessed see their relations and friends who are still on earth or in purgatory, for death does not destroy the love they bore them, but purifies it and elevates it to a higher state in which the salvation of souls is the paramount consideration. They also know in God the prayers addressed to them by those dwell on earth, which they answer by interceding for their clients at the Throne of grace and mercy.

St. Thomas with St. Gregory thinks that the blessed know everything that takes place on earth; but since they are in perfect agreement with Divine justice, they are not saddened by the evils which they see, nor do They interfere in the affairs of the living except as the dispositions of God’s justice may require.

The blessed know all the foregoing actual things and only according to their super-eminent existence in God but also in their own natural existence, through the medium, however, of the Divine Nature. They may know created things also by infused knowledge, that is, by mental images of them implanted in their minds by God.

In addition to what is set forth above, the blessed may know other actual things, which vary in number according to the intensity of their knowledge of the primary object, God. But none of the blessed-if we except Christ in His human nature-knows all actual things, because none of them-except Christ Who is the judge of all-can be said to have an interest in every actual thing, in every thought of the human mind, and in every utterance of the human tongue. Our Lord tells us that no one but God knows when the General Judgment will take place: (that Day is hidden even from the angels.) Nor is the fact that the blessed do not know all actual things a hindrance to their perfect happiness, since, as we saw above, the knowledge of the primary object of the vision, God, is capable by itself of satisfying every desire of the human soul.

Throughout eternity there is no increase in the vision of God, the primary object, because, as we saw, the degree of clearness with which God is known is proportionate to the grace which adorns the soul at the moment of its separation from the body, which after death cannot be increased. But the blessed may grow in knowledge of created things. Eventually the Day of Judgment will become known to them, since they will themselves be present at the Judgment. St. Paul teaches that through the Church the angels learned certain details concerning the Incarnation which before were unknown to them. The blessed may advance in knowledge by their own experience and observation; they may learn, also, from those who enjoy a higher degree of vision, but the knowledge thus communicated will not be so excellent or so clear in the learner as in the teacher. Such increase may continue until the Day of Judgment, but not beyond it, for then all things will be consumated; and in the final state of creatures following the Judgement, St. Thomas thinks it possible that all the blessed will know all actual things, not in God, but by illumination from the soul of Christ, which since the beginning of its existence has known all actual things.

There remain a few other questions concerning heaven, the exigencies of space compel us to treat very briefly.

The happiness of the blessed is eternal. This is a dogma of our Faith defined by Benedict XII in 1336; and professed by the Church from her earliest days in the Apostles” Creed: “I believe . . . in life everlasting.” It is clearly taught in Sacred Scripture, as is evident from many of the names by which heaven is called, especially from the name, “life ever-lasting.” Reason itself recognizes the truth of this teaching for the perfect happiness of an immortal soul must of necessity be eternal.

The blessed are physically incapable of committing sin, even venial sin. It is inconceivable that a soul which sees God face to face and loves Him ardently, could for a moment offend Him by preferring any created good to Him Who is the Supreme Good, which is the essence of mortal sin; or by an undue attachment to any created thing, which is the essence of venial sin. The blessed can not do otherwise than love God; they are free only to show their love of Him by choosing one good action rather than another. If in this world we are capable of sinning, it is because we do not realize with sufficient clearness the infinite lovableness of God.

Besides the essential happiness of heaven which consists in the vision of God, the elect enjoy many other blessings, which constitute what is called “accidental happiness.” They rejoice in the company of Christ, the Blessed Virgin Mary, the angels and the saints, and in the reunion with those whom they loved on earth. The arrival of every new soul in heaven brings an increase of joy. They rejoice when they behold the good results of their work for souls still continuing on earth. The prayers that are addressed to them, and the celebrations which the Church holds in their honour, also add to their accidental glory. The union of the soul with the glorified body after the General Resurrection will be a new cause of joy. This body, being in some way spiritualized, will not be subject to the needs, the sufferings, or the passions which belong to the animal body during its earthly career. The sight of the new heavens and the new earth, which earth and the heavens are changed and beautified after the Judgment, will also enhance their enjoyment. To the objects of accidental happiness belong all those created things actual and possible which the blessed know. The character imprinted on their souls by the Sacraments of Baptism, Confirmation, or Holy Orders redounds to the glory of the elect. The doctors, martyrs, and virgins enjoy a special happiness from the aureolas or crowns which adorn their souls in heaven, The blessed are free from all suffering and sadness. “Death shall be no more, nor mourning, nor crying, nor morrow.”) They are not saddened even if any of those whom they loved on earth suffer eternal damnation, for they see that these most justly deserve their punishment, because they repelled the advances of friendship made by God and died in eternal enmity to Him. In this world even the closest friendships are not proof against all offence. Who has not heard of the bond of parental affection being shattered by the long-continued wickedness of unrepenting children? Or how should we regard even our dearest friend if he deliberately murdered our parents? For the blessed, the affections founded on mere carnal relationship or community of interests are of much less importance than those which have relationship with God as their motive. If a soul has put itself in a state of eternal hatred of Him by departing from this world in mortal sin, the blessed can no longer retain the least affection for it, and thus they are not saddened it its sufferings.

Under several of the above heads accidental happiness may increase until the Day of Judgment.

We make no attempt to describe the life led by the blessed, nor the boundless happiness which they enjoy: it is not in the power of mortal man to do so. The beatific vision is a mystery: no earthly mind can describe exactly the intimate manner in which God is present to the blessed soul, because we have in this world no example with which a comparison may be instituted. The happiness of heaven is supernatural: it is above everything that our mind can conceive or our imagination create. We are more helpless in trying to conceive or imagine it than a man blind from birth is in trying to imagine the beautiful landscape which we describe to him. It is indeed questionable if the heaven which we can imagine would arouse us to much effort for its attainment; because it would be a place of mere earthly pleasures of which we soon grow tired. The happiness of heaven, on the contrary, while it calls into activity to their fullest extent the highest powers and facilities of human nature, never tires nor satiates. It is ever new, ever entrancing. We can form only a very inadequate notion of it, more by saying what it is not than what it is. Let us imagine all the happy hours we have ever known in our mortal life—all those hours when we seemed to forget that we were still in a world where suffering and sadness are known, and we experienced, as we may have thought, a foretaste of heaven- let us imagine all those hours gathered into one perfect day of purest joy, and intensified a hundredfold: we have not yet the faintest notion of the eternal happiness in store for us. We may have stood on some Alpine peak on a summer’s day and felt our souls bowed in awe, our hearts suffused with rapture at the surpassing beauty of the panorama of snow-capped mountains, wooded valleys, and shimmering lakes, spread before us, wrapped in glorious sunshine. We thought, perhaps, that here we had an inkling of the beauty of heaven. Or we may have contemplated with delight the heavenly paintings of Fr. Angelico, the most heavenly-minded of the Christian painters, and thought that he has succeeded in depicting for us a gleam of the glory of our eternal home. But the words of St. Paul come back to us, the words of him who once was granted a vision of heaven:”Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither, hath it entered into the heart of man, what things God hath prepared for them that love Him.”

These considerations should encourage us during our earthly exile, and comfort us amidst our trials, in accordance with the beautiful sentiment of St. Francis of Assisi:

“Tanto è il ben che io aspetto Che ogni pena mi è diletto.” which we may translate as:

So great is the Good I hope to gain, It turns to joy my every pain.

Nihil Obstat:

MICHAEL CANONICUS CRONIN, S.T.D. Censor The01. Deput.

Imprimi Potest:

@ EDUARDUS,

Archiep. Dublinen.,

Hiberniae. Primes.

Dublini, die 21 Maii, anno. 1930.

********

Hell And Its Punishments

BY REV. T. ROCHE, C.SS.R

INDEX

Outside the Church at the present time the doctrine of hell is practically ignored. It is brushed aside as out of date, the relic of a bygone age. To speak of hell and its punishments is regarded, as Father Faber puts it: “A vulgar subject for vulgar people.” The prophet Isaias describes the so-called Christians of the present day, who believe only what pleases their fancy, in the following manner: “A people that will not hear the word of God. Who say to the seers: see not. And to them that behold- behold not for us those things that are right. Speak unto us pleasant things.” (Is. xxx, 10.) Speak to us of God’s goodness, of His love, of heaven, of anything in a word that is interesting and entertaining; but of sin, of God’s Justice, above all, of hell and its torments-not for us these things that are right-speak unto us pleasant things. And what shall we say of the modern “seers” who see not, and who, Sunday after Sunday, preach to their hearers “pleasant things”? The prophet Ezechiel cries out against all such: “Woe to them that sew cushions under every elbow, and make pillows for theheads of persons of every age.” (Ezech. xiii, 18.)

The Catholic Church alone proclaims the doctrine of hell and its punishments. The commission she has received from her Divine Founder is to convert the nations to the truth, not to adapt the truth to them. In the matter of faith and morals, her duty is to control the minds and the hearts of men, not to be controlled or influenced by them. “It is surely an unpardonable offence on the part of some modern preachers, often for the sake of notoriety, to waver and hesitate in fully declaring the truth of the eternal punishment of hell. In the face of the momentous interests at stake, such a mode of action is not charity but cruelty. For if so terrible a doom awaits the finally impenitent, the surest guarantee for escaping it hereafter, is not to forget it now. If the doctrine of eternal punishment be a revealed truth, it is treason to God and treachery to men to withhold or disguise it, or tamper with it, because we may choose to think it better to leave themin ignorance of what He has thought it better to reveal.” (Raupert, “Hell and Its Problems.”)

Our loving Saviour has revealed to us the punishments of hell in order to lead us more securely to heaven. We should serve God out of love and not through fear of punishment; for, as the Apostle says, we have not received the spirit of fear, the spirit of the slave, but the adoption of sons. At the same time, almost every page of the Scriptures proclaims the blessedness of those who fear God: “Beatus vir qui timet Dominum.” (Blessed is the man that feareth the Lord.) (Ps. iii.) God demands of us the homage of a fear that is holy, filial and reverential. The Christian attitude in this respect is perhaps best summed up in the words of the Imitation: “He that loves God with his whole heart neither fears death, nor punishment, nor judgment, nor hell; because perfect love gives secure access to God. But he that is yet delighted with sin, no wonder if he be afraid of death and judgment and hell. It is good, however, that if love as yet reclaim thee not from evil, at least the fear of hell restrain thee. But he that lays aside the fear of God will not be able to continue long in good, but will quickly fall into the snares of the devil.” (Imit., Ch. 25.) In a word, our religion is a religion of love, but it does not exclude a salutary fear.

THE EXISTENCE OF HELL

Voltaire, the French infidel, was once complimented by one of his disciples, who wrote to him: “I congratulate you that you have at last convinced me that there is no hell.” To which Voltaire replied: “Lucky young man to be so convinced. I wish I could convince myself that there is no hell.” Only those who deny the existence of God can deny the existence of hell. Even the pagans, following the light of reason alone, believed in a place of punishment for the wicked after death. The first page of the Catechism tells us: “There is but one God, Who rewards the good and punishes the wicked.” No one can read the Gospel without being struck by the frequency with which Christ Our Lord stressed the doctrine of hell and its torments. It will suffice for our purpose to give one or two examples of such passages. One of the most striking of these is the parable of the rich glutton and of the beggar Lazarus, who lay at his gate. “And it came to pass that the beggar died and was carried by the angels into Abraham’s bosom. And the rich wan also died; and he was buried in hell. And lifting up his eyes when he was in torments, he saw Abraham afar off and Lazarus in his bosom; and he cried” and said: Father Abraham, have mercy on me, and send Lazarus, that he may dip the tip of his finger in water to cool my tongue: for I am tormented in this flame. And Abraham said to him: “Son, remember that thou didst receive good things in thy lifetime, and likewise Lazarus evil things; but now he is comforted and thou art tormented. And besides all this, between us and you, there is fixed a great chaos: so that they who would pass from hence to you cannot, nor from thence come hither.” (Luke xvi., 22 seq.)

We are all familiar with the graphic descrip tion of the Last Judgment given in Our Lord’s own words: “And when the Son of Man shall come in His majesty, and all the angels with Him, then shall He sit on the throne of His majesty. And all nations shall be gathered together before Him; and He shall separate them one from another, as the shepherd separateth the sheep from the goats. And He shall set the sheep on His right hand, but the goats on His left. . . . Then He shall say to them also that shall be on His left hand: Depart from Me, ye cursed, into everlasting fire, which was prepared for the devil and his angels.” (Matt. xxv, 31 seq.)

But the most terrifying of all Our Lord’s warnings against hell is found in the ninth chapter of St. Mark: “And if thy hand scandalise thee, cut it off; it is better for thee to enter into life, maimed, than having two hands to go into hell, into unquenchable fire: where their worm dieth not, and the fire is not extinguished. And if thy foot scandalise thee, cut it off: it is better for thee to enter lame into life everlasting than having two feet to be cast into the hell of unquenchable fire: where their worm dieth not, and the fire is not extinguished. And if thy eye scandalise thee, pluck it out: it is better for thee with one eye to enter into the kingdom of God than having two eyes to be cast into the hell of fire: where their worm dieth not, and the fire is not extinguished. For everyone shall be salted with fire.” (Mark ix, 42 seq.) Our Lord’s meaning is clear: we must not count the cost; we must be ready to make any sacrifice in order to avoid sin, lead a good life, and so escape the unquenchable fire and the worm that dieth not. The same thought was expressed by Our Lord in other words: “For what doth it profit a man, if he gain the whole world, and suffer the loss of his own soul.” (Matt. xvi, 26.) The faith of Catholics in the existence of hell is thus expressed in the Athanasian Creed: “They that have done good shall go into life everlasting, and they that have done evil into everlasting fire.”

THE PUNISHMENTS OF HELL

FIRST-THE LOSS OF GOD

Although the generality of people imagine that the fire which torments the wicked is the greatest of the pains of hell, yet it is not so. By far the most excruciating torment of all, and by far the most intolerable, is the privation of the Beatific Vision, and the thought of being deprived of it for ever. Hence it is put first by Our Lord in the sentence to be pronounced at the Last Judgment: “Depart from Me.” In this life we cannot realise how the pain of loss constitutes the chief torment of hell, how, in fact, it makes hell to be hell. To understand it in some measure at least, we know that the soul was created for God, created to enjoy God, that God alone can fully satisfy its yearning for happiness. St. Augustine has said: “Our hearts are restless until they rest in Thee, 0 God.” Though it does not seem correct to say that the condemned soul at judgment will see God for a moment, yet some flash of light must pierce the darkened mind, revealing to it the infinite Beauty and Goodness of God. Then will the soul rush forward with an irresistible and overwhelming impulse towards that God for Whom it was created. Astronomers tell us that a meteor, by virtue of the law of gravity, rushes towards the earth at the rate of over thirty miles a second. In like manner, will the soul feel itself drawn impetuously to God with all the vehemence and energy of its nature. But who can describe the wild and fierce anguish of the sinner as he feels himself inexorably held back by an Omnipotent hand, pitilessly held down by the guilt of his sins. How he will struggle in an agony of suffocation, when he realises that between himself and God there is fixed a chasm which he can never pass, when the terrible words, “Depart from Me,” will re-echo in his soul for all eternity. Hell, then, essentially means the loss of God. The loss of God, said St. Augustine, is as great as God Himself.

ST. JOHN CHRYSOSTOM ON THE LOSS OF GOD

“Now I know that many tremble only at the fire of hell, but I affirm that the loss of the glory of heaven is a far greater punishment. And if it be not possible to exhibit it such in words, this is nothing marvellous. For neither do we know the blessedness of those good things that we should clearly perceive the misery of being deprived of them. No doubt the fire of hell is intolerable, yet, though one suppose a thousand hells of fire, he will utter nothing like what it will be, to be excluded from the glory of heaven, to be hated by Christ, to hear from His lips: “Depart from Me. . . . I know you not.” Yea, better surely to endure a thousand thunderbolts, than to see that face of mildness turning away from us, and that eye of peace not enduring to look on us.” (Homily XXIII on St. Matthew.)

SECOND -THE FIRE OF HELL

Although, as we have said, the loss of God is incomparably the greatest of the torments of hell, yet it was the pain of fire that Our Lord invariably stressed. Ardently desiring the salvation of all, He wished to inspire horror into the hearts of men, of the dreadful torments awaiting the wicked after death. He would, as St. Bernard says, save us from hell through hell itself. It was the love of the Sacred Heart that urged Him to this, so that a lively fear of the dread abyss of fire might be a powerful motive to avoid sin, to walk in the way of the Commandments, and so enter into the joys of heaven. This was the reason of the oft-repeated warning of the Gospel-of the unquenchable fire, the worm that dieth not, the outer darkness, the weeping and gnashing of teeth. How different the reaction of the modern world to the doctrine of the fire of hell! The following from a popular writer may be taken as the mentality of non-Catholics in this respect: “The whole conception is wicked, shocking and monstrous. Is it conceivable that Jesus could have taught such a doctrine?” It is evidently neither wicked nor shocking to contradict the plain and emphatic language of Our Saviour in the Gospels.

With regard to the nature of the fire of hell, it is certain that it is real, material, corporeal fire. This is the unanimous teaching of the Fathers and Doctors of the Church. The language of the Scriptures leaves no room whatever for figure or metaphor here. It is sufficient to recall the words of the sentence to be pronounced on the wicked: “Depart from Me into everlasting fire, which was prepared for the devil and his angels.” Here is a fire specially created, specially prepared-an external agent, outside of, and different from, its victim, and the cause of his sufferings. We need only add here what is said in the Apocalypse: “Whosoever was not found written in the book of life, was cast into the pool of fire (the pool burningwith fire and brimstone).” (Apoc. xx, 15.) If a Catholic refused to admit the reality of the fire of hell, holding that it was merely a metaphorical expression for some internal, mental anguish, he could not be accused of formal heresy, as the Church has not given any solemn definition on the question; but he would be certainly guilty of grave sin against the Faith. In April, 1890, the Sacred Penitentiary at Rome was asked whether a penitent who declared to his confessor, that, in his opinion, the term “hell fire” was only a metaphor to express the internal pains of the wicked, might be allowed to hold such an opinion, and be absolved. The answer was as follows: “Such penitents must be diligently instructed, and, if pertinacious, must not be absolved.”

Because the fire of hell is true material fire, we must not conclude that it is identical with the fire of this earth. Whatever points of resemblance there may be between them, there are certainly many differences. The one is prepared by God as the instrument of His Justice, the other comes from God as the Author of Nature. Unlike the fire of earth, the fire of hell burns but does not consume. The fire of this world acts on matter only, the fire of hell acts immediately on spirit-on the demons and on the souls of the reprobate now separated from their bodies.

We cannot understand how a material fire can act on, and cause suffering to, a purely spiritual being. We can only say with St. Augustine: “It will do so in strange but true ways-”miris sed verismodis.” This corporeal fire shall torment both men and demons for all that they are incorporeal. Christ hath spoken it-the fire which was prepared for the devil and his angels.” (“De Civitate Dei,” C.X.)

DEGREES OF SUFFERING IN THE FIRE OF HELL

Although all the reprobate shall be cast into the same fire, their torment shall not be the same or equal for all. Just as there are various degrees of happiness in heaven, in the same way the sufferings of the wicked in hell shall be proportioned to the guilt of each individual soul. This is not only in accordance with right reason and the Justice of God, but is also contained, at least implicitly, in Holy Scripture. Thus the Apostle writing to the Corinthians says: “We must all be manifested before the judgment seat of Christ that every one may receive the proper things of the body, according as he hath done, whether it be good or evil.” (2 Cor. v, 10.)

The authority of St. Augustine puts the mat ter beyond all controversy. “We cannot doubt that the sufferings of those who shall be excluded from God’s Kingdom are of diverse degrees, some being more severe than others: so that in eternity the various degrees of guilt are visited by varying degrees of torment. For it was not in vain that Our Lord said: “Woe to thee, Corozain! Woe to thee, Bethsaida.” For if in Tyre and Sidon had been wrought the mighty works that have been wrought in you, they would have done penance long ago, sitting in sackcloth and ashes. But it shall be more tolerable for Tyre and Sidon at the judgment than for you! (Lk. x, 13).” (Contra Donatistas, iv, 19.)

“The fire of hell,” says St. John Chrysostom, “is an intelligent fire, knowing how to distin guish between sinner and sinner, between the senses or faculties which were used as instruments of crime, following an exact proportion between the punishment and the degree of perversity which it punishes! It meets out punishment to each one in proportion to the offences, reserving the cruellest pains for the greater crimes and the more unpardonable faults. Then, indeed, will those have good reason to know how much they are deceived who pretend it is the same to be damned for a thousand sins as for one. For if a man is condemned to hell for two mortal sins, his punishment will be double that of a man condemned for one alone. And it will be increased three times, ten times, a hundred times, according to the number of sins for which he has been condemned.”

THIRD -THE WORM THAT DIETH NOT

This expression, as is obvious, must be understood in a metaphorical sense. This is the worm of conscience, the deep, unavailing despair, the agonising remorse that tortures the wicked in hell. “Were you created for this?” it will say. “Did you repeat your innocent prayers at your mother’s knee for this! You were a child of God, an heir of heaven, and yet you are in hell! (O fool that I have been-how easily I could have been saved! How easily I could have given up that sinful habit, that wretched companion! O, would that I could live my life over again! Would that an hour were given me in which to repent!” But, alas! Time is no more; out of hell there is no redemption. “If the tree fall to the south or to the north, in what place soever it shall fall, there shall it be.” (Eccles. xi, 3.) Then it is that the reprobate sinner, plunged into the depths of remorse and despair, will cry out to God to annihilate him; he will call upon death to come and put an end to his torments. All in vain; his cries of rage remain unanswered. There he must remain forever; no change, no respite, no relief, no death. “In those days, men shall seek death and shall not find it. And they shall desire to die, and death shall fly from them.” (Apoc. ix, 6.)

The weeping and gnashing of teeth of the lost in hell, especially because of their envy of the just in heaven, are described forus in the Book of Wisdom. “Saying within themselves, repenting and groaning for anguish of spirit: these are they whom we had sometime in derision and for a parable of reproach. We fools esteemed their life madness and their end without honour. Behold how they are numbered among the children of God, and their lot is among the saints. We wearied ourselves in the way of iniquity, but the way of the Lord we have not known. What hath pride profited us? Or what advantage hath the boasting of riches brought us? All these things are passed away like a shadow, but we are consumed in our wickedness. Such things as these the sinners said in hell.” (Ch. v, 3 seq.)

The Apostle St. Paul had before him the thought of hell -where their worm dieth not and the fire is not extinguished-when he wrote to the Hebrews: “It is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the living God” (x, 31), and when he warned the Philippians: “Work out your salvation with fear and trembling.” (ii, 12.)

Fourth -The Eternity of Hell The torments of hell are eternal. This truth of our Faith is set forth in the Athanasian Creed: “They that have done good things shall go into life everlasting, and they that have done evil things into everlasting fire.” The words of Our Lord are unmistakable: “The chaff He will burn with unquenchable fire.” “Depart from Me into everlasting fire.” Can we understand what is meant by the eternity of hell? No-it is entirely beyond our comprehension. Scientists have measured the extent of the earth, the depth of the sea, the dimensions and distances of the stars, but no measure can be found for eternity. No measure can reach the boundary of eternity, because no boundary exists. “0 Eternity,” exclaims St. Augustine, “what art thou?” “Say what you will of it and you have never said enough. Say that it includes as many millions of years as there are stars in the firmament, grains of sand on the seashore, leaves in the trees, drops of water in the ocean, you will never have said enough.” And why? Because no time, no matter how long, can have any proportion to eternity. Add millions of years to it and it will not become greater; take away millions of years from it, and it will not grow less. A sinner condemned to hell a thousand years ago can say: “I have now been buried in hell a thousand years”; but he cannot say: “Now I have one hour less to suffer.” Eternity remains just as long as it was when he first entered hell.

All that one can say to express the duration of eternity is summed up in the words: forever -never. When will the ecstatic delights of heaven come to an end? Never. When will the fire of hell cease to torment the reprobate? Never. For how long will the ineffable joys of heaven last? Forever. How long will the wicked have to remain in the terrible abyss of hell? Forever. If they had but the faintest glimmer of hope that even after countless ages an end would come to their torments, hell would be converted into Purgatory.

THE INTENSITY OF THE PAINS OF HELL

The intensity of the pains of hell, and especially of the fire of hell, is indicated by the manner in which they are described in Sacred Scripture. For example: “The chaff He will burn with unquenchable fire.” (Lk. iii, 17.) “There shall be weeping and gnashing of teeth.” (Matt. viii, 12.) “He shall cast them into the furnace of fire. Whosoever was not found written in the book of life was cast into the pool of fire

The pool of fire-the pool burning with fire and brimstone.” (Apoc. xx, 9.15.)

ST. TERESA’S DESCRIPTION OF HELL

In the life of St. Teresa written by herself she relates the unique experience she had of the intensity of the pains of hell. “I was one day in prayer when I found myself plunged apparently into hell. It was but a moment but it seems to me impossible that I should ever forget it. The entrance seemed to be by a long, narrow pass, like a furnace, very low, dark and close. At the end was a hollow place in the wall, and in that I saw myself confined. There is no exaggeration in what I am saying. I felt a fire in my soul. I cannot see how it is possible to describe it. My bodily sufferings were unendurable. I have undergone most painful sufferings in this life, and, as the physicians say, the greatest that can be borne, yet all these were as nothing compared to what I felt there, especially when I saw that there would be no intermission nor any end to them. If I said that the soul is being continually torn from the body, it would be nothing- for that implies the destruction of life by the hand of another; but here it is the soul itself that is tearing itself to pieces. I cannot describe the inward fire or that despair, surpassing all torments and all pain. I did not see who it was who tormented me, but I felt myself on fire and torn to pieces, as it seemed to me; and I repeat it, this inward fire and despair are the greatest torments of hell. Our Lord made me really feel those torments, and that anguish of spirit, just as if I had been suffering them in the body there. I have listened to people speaking of these things, and I have at other times dwelt on the various torments of hell. I have read of the diverse tortures, and how the devils tear the flesh with red-hot pincers. But all is as nothing before this; it is a wholly different matter. In short, the one is a reality, the other a picture; and all burning here in this life is as nothing compared with the fire that is there.” (Ch. 32, p. a 298.)

HELL -A REVELATION OF GOD’S LOVE AND MERCY

It may be asked, how are we to reconcile the awful punishments of hell with the love and mercy of God? In order to understand this difficulty, we must remember that no one can ever be lost by surprise or trapped in his ignorance. It is mortal sin alone that incurs the punishments of hell. Mortal sin is the fuel of the fire of hell. Now, a bad act must have three conditions to be mortally sinful. First, there must be a serious breach of the moral law, in order that the sin may be mortal. Secondly, there must be full advertance to the grave malice of the act; so that if one were half-asleep, or drowsy, or not in full possession of his faculties, the sin would not be mortal. Thirdly, there must be full and free consent. This consent must be perfect, so that a man must wish to choose the wrong quite deliberately. Now, since God gives abundant helps to all to walk in the path of the commandments, whoever incurs the guilt of mortal sin must lay the blame entirely at his own door. Among these helps not the least is the revelation of the torments of hell. Father Faber writes: “I do not think that if we kept in view the perfections of God, we should venture to believe, unless the Church taught us, that there was in creation such a place as hell. When it has been revealed to us, we can perceive not only its reasonableness, but also how admirably it is in keeping with God’s mercy. While we shudder at the vision of hell, it makes us nestle closer to Him in love. But to us who have grace given to us, and yet have the power of resisting it, who are right now but can at any moment go wrong-who can doubt that hell is a pure mercy, a solemn passage in God’s pathetic eloquence, pleading with us to save our souls and to go to Him in heaven. There is no class of Christians to whom hell is not an assistance. The conversion of a sinner is never complete without the fear of hell. Otherwise the work cannot be depended upon. It has a flaw in its origin and the seed of decay in its root. It is unstable and insecure. It is shortlived and unpersevering, like the seed in Our Saviour’s parable which fell upon a rock, sprang up for a season and then withered away. Hell teaches us God, when we are too gross to learn Him otherwise. It lights up the depth of sin’s malignity, that we may look down, and tremble and grow wise. Its fires turn to water and quench the fiery darts of the tempter. They rage around us, so that we dare not rise up from prayer. They follow us like the manytongued pursuing flames of a burning prairie, and drive us swiftly on, and out of breath, along the path of God’s commandments. The false delicacy of modern times in keeping back the scaring images of hell, is a formidable danger to the sanctity as well as to the faith of men.” (“The Creator and the Creature.”)

In his book, “Hell and Its Problems,” Raupert, to the same effect, writes: “It is certainly not the love of God that restrains even refined and cultivated people from the indulgence of their passions, and from entering upon crooked and forbidden paths in the various relationships of life. What does restrain them is the sense and fear of punishment- in the form of dishonour and loss of social prestige in the temporal order, and of dimly discerned perhaps, but nevertheless conceivably serious consequences in the spiritual order. It cannot be accidental, surely, that Holy Scripture contains far more warnings of hell than promises of heaven. He who searches the hearts and reigns knows what truth is best calculated to stay and direct the weak and frail mind of man. I feel confident that when the secret history of each saved soul comes hereafter to be revealed, it will be found “that the fear of hell has saved more souls than the promises of heaven. Although fear is not the highest motive to virtue, it is the most common nevertheless, and in the critical moments of life the most powerful one beyond doubt.”

THE GREAT GATE OF HELL

On one occasion Our Lord warned His Apostles, saying: “Fear ye not them that kill the body and are not able to kill the soul; but ratherfear him that can destroy both body and soul in hell.” (Matt. x, 28.) God has placed on the shore of eternity two great lights to guide us on our path through life: the red light of hell, as a warning and a deterrent, and the green light of heaven, to give us hope and encouragement. We should, therefore, fear God, and fear hell, which is for all of us a dread possibility. “We should tremble,” says St. Alphonsus, “at the thought of being lost, and tremble not so much at the thought of hell, as of sin, which alone can send us there.” But there is one sin which we must avoid above and beyond all others, if we are to escape hell. When we study the black catalogue of sins we find one that stands out blacker and deeper than all the rest; one that can boast of more victims than any other. Where other vices destroy their hundreds, this destroys its thousands. It is the sin that God hates with a special hatred, the sin that wrung from His lips the cry of sorrow: “It repenteth me that I have made man on the earth”; the sin that brought down from heaven fire and brimstone, that reduced to ashes the wicked cities of the plain; the sin of which St. Alphonsus says, that, in his deliberate opinion, more men and women are eternally lost through sins of the flesh, not only than through any other sin taken singly, but than through all other sins put together. “I hesitate not to affirm,” says the holy Doctor, “that all those who are lost are lost on account of sins of impurity, or, at all events, are not lost without them.” This, then, is the wide gate through which the vast majority of sinners enter into hell. Our Lord said to His disciples: “Enter ye in at the narrow gate; for wide is the gate and broad is the way that leadeth to destruction and many there are who go in thereat.” (Matt. vii, 13.)

CONCLUSION

Objections are sometimes raised by non-Catholics to the doctrine of hell and its punishments-God is good, they say, and He is too merciful to condemn anyone to an eternity in the fire of hell. But God is not only good, He is also infinitely just. The answer of St. Augustine to all objections against the fire of hell and the eternity of hell, is: “Christ hath spoken it.” God has said it, and His word is true. Moreover, God does not send any soul to hell. Men cast themselves into hell. The Scripture testifies to the truth of this; as, for example: “What things a man shall sow, those also shall he reap.” (Gal. vi, S.) And again: “Before man is life and death, good and evil, that which he shall choose, shall be given him.” (Ecclus. xv, 18.) Before man is heaven and hell, that which he shall choose shall be given him.

When we lean over the edge of the abyss, and peer down into the fiery depths of hell, we realise how immeasurably wicked mortal sin must be, since for one such sin, God will cast the soul into everlasting flames. We ought to see a new meaning also in the words of our Saviour: “For what doth it profit a man if he gain the whole world, and suffer the loss of his own soul?” Let us, therefore, keep ever in mind the advice given to us by the Redemptorist Fathers during their missions and retreats:

Remember,

Dear Christian:

You have but one soul to save, One God to love and to serve, One eternity to expect. Death will soon come, Judgment will follow, And then

Heaven or Hell for ever. Therefore,

O Child of Jesus and Mary, Avoid Sin

And all dangerous Occasions of Sin, Pray without ceasing,

Go frequently to Confession and Holy Communion.

Never omit the Rosary every day.

Because, as St. Alphonsus assures us: “No one can be lost who perseveres in devotion to our Blessed Lady.”

Nihil obstat:

F. MOYNIHAN,

Censor Deputatus.

Imprimatur:

@ D. MANNIX,

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis. 1945

********

Hell Questions

DR. RUMBLE, M.S.C

INDEX

All around us today we hear nonCatholics declaring that, “There is no Hell,” “Hell is a myth,” “Intellectual progress has abolished Hell.” Prof. G. H. Betts, of the Northwestern University in his book “The Belief of 700 Ministers,” shows in his tabulations of replies received from 500 ministers and 200 Protestant theological schools, in 20 denominations that 13 per cent were uncertain of Hell’s existence, and 34 per cent disbelieved or denied the existence of Hell. As a conclusion to his findings he says, “No denomination except perhaps the Lutherans has any right to demand that fixed creeds shall be taught their young.”

The following questions and statements to a radio preacher are samples of what the so-called Reformation has done for the modern mind:

1. I DON’T LIKE HELL

Who does likeHell? The fact that you don’t like Hell doesn’t prove that it is all humbug. Diderot, a rationalist, set down in his notes a little selfinterrogation, “If you abuse your reason, my soul, you will not only be unhappy in this life, but still more unhappy in Hell.”

“And who told you that there is a Hell?”

“Well, even if it be doubtful, you had better live as if there were one.”

“What if I am sure there is no Hell?”

“I defy you to prove it.”

Voltaire replied in the same strain to a friend who wrote to him, “I believe that I have at last found certainty that no Hell exists at all.”

“Lucky man,” wrote back Voltaire, “I am very far yet from that.”

Still, many people choose not to believe in Hell, and in order to pat themselves on the back to give themselves confidence they assert no one really believes that ancient doctrine of priestcraft. There are 431,000,000 members of the Catholic Church who believe that ancient but still modern doctrine.

2. WHAT DO YOU MEAN BY HELL?

Though the modernized man jokes about Hell, scoffs at it, doubts and denies it, Hell is the eternal lot of misery awaiting those who die in a state of grave sin and at enmity with God. Before the general resurrection, the soul alone experiences this misery; after the resurrection, the body will be reunited with that soul and will share in the misery, being tormented by created elements even as the person forsook God during life for the enjoyment of created things. The chief misery will be the sense of having lost happiness of the Vision of God; the other will be the torment of fire.

3. IF YOU BELIEVE IN HELL, YOU BELIEVE THAT IT IS NECESSARY FOR OTHERS, BUT NOT FOR YOURSELVES

No Catholic believes that anyone necessarily goes to Hell. No man need go there at all. But if a man separates himself from God by sin and dies in a state of mortal or grave sin, he has fixed his state forever and will go to Hell; and this is truth which every Catholic admits as applicable to himself as well as to all other human beings.

4. CATHOLICS CANNOT GENUINELY BELIEVE IN HELL

Catholics genuinely believe in the existence of Hell. I believe in it and I have not the most attenuated shadow of a doubt as to the existence of Hell. Nor has any other practical Catholic in this world. Pope, Cardinals, Bishops, priests and laymen all have this same faith, and sincerely.

5. NO SANE INTELLECT COULD ASSIMILATE SO HORRIBLE A DOCTRINE

Sane reason does not demand unbelief. Human intelligence cannot fully comprehend the mystery of eternal suffering, but that does not alter the fact that Hell exists, even as our not fully comprehending the medium of wireless transmission does not alter the fact that some such medium does exist. And if the thought of Hell is horrible, the thought that there is no Hell is still more horrible. Grave sin against the Creator is a more horrible thing than the Hell to which it leads. And that a creature could mock its Creator with impunity is more horrible than the punishment such conduct deserves.

6. CATHOLICS MUST HATE THE DOCTRINE OF HELL

They do not hate the doctrine of Hell, for they love the truth as revealed by God. Then, too, this doctrine is the vindication of God’s justice, and it is not possible to hate the doctrine that God is justice itself. Catholics dislike the state of Hell of course; and hate the thought of anyone going there. But the doctrine they gladly accept.

7. NO WONDER CATHOLICS LIVE BY FEAR, WHILST PROTESTANTS HAVE SUCH CHILDLIKE LOVE AND TRUST IN GOD

What do you mean by “fear”? Do you mean servile, cringing fear, or that filial reverent fear which Scripture declares to be the beginning of wisdom? And what do you mean by “childlike love and trust”? Do you mean the repeating of the formula, “Believe in Christ and be saved,” and then going on with all kinds of things which God forbids? With hosts of Protestants, “childlike love and trust are matters of vague sentiment and self-persuasion, due to ignorance even of God’s just demands and revealed doctrines. As, for example, when Protestant clergymen say to their people, “There is not really a Hell. No one can tell me that there is really a Hell.” Why do they preach about Heaven and have they been really informed about Heaven? And, although God does tell us that there is a Hell, their poor people clutch at the thought fathered by their wish and regard it as childlike love and trust to deny what God has revealed. Finally, remember that real filial and reverent fear of God, such as is instilled into Catholics, in no way excludes genuine love of God and trust in Him. These are the true wisdom to which filial fear leads.

8. I ADMIRE CATHOLICISM BUT I COULD NEVER SINCERELY BELIEVE IN HELL

You could, if you had the faith which Catholics possess, namely, that the Catholic Church, which teaches this doctrine, has the commission, protection and authority of God, in matters of religion and moral conduct, to teach, guide, and rule the souls of men.

9. COULD ONE BECOME A CATHOLIC WITHOUT BELIEVING IN HELL?

No. But you really make an impossible supposition. He who refuses to believe in any one authoritative teaching of Christianity could not possibly have perfect faith in any others. He might have immense confidence in his own opinion as to their truth. But that is not Christian faith. He believes the other doctrines, because he likes them, and refuses to believe this because he does not approve of it. That is not Christian faith. Faith accepts a thing as true on the authority of another.

If I have faith in Christ, I believe that He knows the truth and would not tell a lie. Whatever He says I accept- whether I fully comprehend it or not because refusal to accept accuses Him of ignorance or want of veracity or want of authority. Deny any one thing Christ teaches and you deny faith in His knowledge and authority to teach. That motive having gone overboard, what do you accept?

You accept, not by faith in Christ or in His Church, but through confidence in your own powers of discernment. That might do, if you wish to be a disciple of yourself but it will not do as a qualification to be a disciple of Christ and of the Catholic Church. It is all or nothing. If a man has Catholic faith, he accepts the teaching of the Catholic Church. If he will not accept her teaching, he has not received the gift of Catholic faith, and cannot become a Catholic until he does so.

10. WHAT IS THE NATURE OF HELL?

Hell is a state of eternal misery. Death in Hell would be a great mercy, only there is no death. There is but suffering, and an unending suffering in Hell. It is a departure from all that is good, holy, and beautiful. The misery of the privation of God is in proportion to the joy of the possession of God. The lost soul goes to remorse, suffering, and despair. There will be the remorse of eternal remembrance; not repentance, but consuming regret and degradation, regret that he should have to suffer thus; the degradation of his identification with sin. He is not so much in the act of sin as in the state of sin. Sin is, as it were, humanized in him. And consciousness of sin will come into its own. First sins bring fear and remorse to the timorous, shy, and pure conscience of a child. But men grow out of their conscience, and live it down. But what if the child conscience could knock at the heart of the grown man? And what if conscience were revived, and a man could get rid of neither his sins nor his conscience for all eternity? We can at least conceive of a mental Hell based on such a consideration.

But there is also a physical Hell of fire. There is a fire of Hell. It is not fire as we know it, for it is worse. Fire as we know it was but the nearest thing Christ could find to describe the sense-pains of Hell. And the soul will go to this remorse and suffering in utter despair. Our future is attractive so long as there is hope of some sort. If hope goes, there is only the despair of suicide. Only in Hell there is no suicide. “I am lost forever,” is the conclusive cry of a soul, made for happiness, yet never to attain it.

11. IT IS SIMPLY IMPOSSIBLE. IT CANNOT BE

Me must believe in such a Hell or give up being Christians. If there is an up, there must be a down; if there is a right, there must be a left; if there is reward, there must be punishment; if there is a Heaven, there must be a Hell. If we reject Hell, we reject the authority of God reject the redemption and the cross; and, indeed, the whole majestic edifice of Christian faith, the source of life and true civilization, the one divine religion in this world today.

12. WHAT EVIDENCE HAVE YOU THAT SUCH A HELL EXISTS?

The very best. The God who made us tells us that He also has made a Hell. There is a Hell in which both the bodies and the souls of the lost will be afflicted. Thus the gentle Christ Himself warns us, “It is expedient for thee that one of thy members should perish rather than that thy whole body go into Hell.” Matt. V, 30. Remember that all shall rise some day, the good and bad alike, the body sharing in the fate of the soul. “All that are in the graves shall hear the voice of the Son of God. And they that have done good things shall come forth unto the resurrection of life; but they that have done evil unto the resurrection of judgment.” Jn. V., 29. Those who are lost will go to everlasting fire. Christ called it “Unquenchable fire.” Mk. IX., 44. He tells us of the grim sentence, “Depart from me you cursed into everlasting fire which was prepared for the devil and his angels.” Matt. XXV., 41. Such a solemn utterance of the judicial sentence demands the literal sense. Judges do not speak in metaphors at such moments. “Let him be hanged- but of course only metaphorically.” And it will be conscious suffering. Our Lord says, “Their worm dieth not, and the fire is not extinguished.” Mk. IX., 43. And again, “There shall be weeping and gnashing of teeth.” Matt. XIII., 50. Continued conscious suffering is the fate of the lost. And reason demands such fate. When a man sins gravely, he chooses between God and a thing forbidden by God. He cannot have both, and he prefers to renounce God rather than the created good. If he dies without repentance his will is still alienated from God. He would do the same thing again if he got the chance. And as long as these dispositions last, he must do without God and happiness. These dispositions lasting forever once this probationary life is over, so will the penalty.

13. I HAVE READ MY BIBLE TWICE FROM COVER TO COVER AND I FIND NOTHING ABOUT YOUR HORRIBLE DOCTRINE

When you read your Bible you must have read with the pretense of a seeing blind man. Open your Bible and examine this abundant testimony: Psalms X, 7, XVII, 6, XX, 10, CXIV, 3; Judith XVI, 20–21; Job XX, 18, 22, 26, XXI 13; Wisdom XVI 16–19; Ecclesiasticus VII 19, XVI 7, XXI 10; Isaias V 4, XXVI 11 XXXIII 11–12 XLVII 14, LXV 5, LXVI 24; Jeremias XV 14; Baruch IV 35; Ezekiel XV 6–7, XX 47; Matthew III 10, 12, V 22, 29, VII 19, X28, XI 23, XIII 20, 42, 50, XVIII 8–9, XXIII 33, XXV 41; Mark IX 42, 43, 44, 45, 46, 47, 48; Luke III 9, 17, X 15, XII 5, XVI 22; John XV 6; lI Peter III 7; Apocalypse XVII 16, XIX 20, XX 9, 14, 15, XXI 8.

14. MY REASON ABSOLUTELY REJECTS THE IDEA OF AN ETERNAL HELL

Your reason may not be able to comprehend the full import of the doctrine. But reason cannot refuse to acknowledge a fact revealed by God. Reason itself says that God must know, and that He could not reveal falsehood. And reason itself should tell you that your intelligence is given you that you may obey and serve God, not to enable you to set yourself up as His judge.

15. BUT IF I WERE GOD, I WOULD NEVER HAVE MADE A HELL

If God were you, then, He might not have made a Hell. But God is not you. He is God. What you would do is no indication of what God must necessarily do. Even if you look round the world you do see, there are hundreds of things which do not meet with your approval. Yet God has permitted them. And if you are so far out in the world you do see, what certainty have you that your ideas of what the next world should be like have any more value?

16. THIS THREAT OF HELL DEFEATS ITS OWN OBJECT

The warning that there is a Hell does not defeat its own object amongst those with a right idea of the truth that it does exist, yet that it is a mystery the full understanding of which is reserved to God. Human attempts to picture Hell are symbolical, and give no adequate ideas of the reality. Nor is anyone asked to concentrate though upon his own imagined and very often false estimates of what Hell is like. We know that a state of very great and eternal misery is a fact, and a possibility for us. And a man is a fool if he does not think of the fact that persistent rejection of God merits eternal rejection by God.

17. WHY PREACH THIS HELL BUSINESS?

Why do you preach, “Jesus Saves,” “Put on Jesus,” “Believe on Jesus.” From what does He save except from Hell? Wouldn’t Jesus Christ, in whose crucifixion you believe, be a fool to have come down from Heaven only to go up upon the cross to die such a horrible death? The crucifixion is all nonsense if there be no Hell, from which we are to be saved. Certainly if there be no Hell from which we are to be saved, men could not go there, and we would all eventually get to Heaven, whether He died or not.

18. THE HEBREW WORD HELL “SHEOL” HAS NO OTHER MEANING THAN THE GRAVE

In Hebrew “sheol” has a very wide significance, and can refer to any state of being less than Heaven. It can mean grave, underworld, kingdom of the dead, state of the eternally lost, etc. The correct sense must be discerned from the context. This is often the case with Hebrew, which is a language with a very limited vocabulary having single words with many separate meanings rather than separate words for almost every shade of thought. The context rules out any possibility of Hell being no more than the grave. Christ speaks of a fate for men which involves “unquenchable fire,” where remorse does not die, and the fire is not extinguished. No one but a fool could call Our Lord’s words a suitable description of the grave. The grave is the receptacle of lifeless bodies. Jesus also declares that the Hell with which He threatens the wicked is that “prepared for the devil and his angels.” The devil never had a body, nor was he buried in a grave. Nor can the words “everlasting fire” constitute a reference to the grave. Hell is everlasting, and will be experienced by the lost as a curse and a blight upon their unending existence.

19. HAS NOT THEWORD “EVERLASTING” BEEN MISTRANSLATED?

It has not. When Christ said that the wicked will go into “everlasting punishment,” the Greek word used is exactly the same as that used to describe “everlasting” happiness and the “everlasting” God. Efforts to put limits to the duration of Hell would put limits to the duration of Heaven, and even to the very existence of God. As long as God is God, Hell will be Hell, with all its miseries.

20. CAN REASON ACCEPT THE IDEA THAT THE SAINTS, WHO SHOULD GIVE US GOOD EXAMPLE, FIND PART OF THEIR PLEASURE IN SEEING THE TORTURES OF THE DAMMED?

No. The exact condition of the Saints in Heaven is a mystery to us whilst still in this life. But if you study their own lives on earth, their heroic virtues will afford you all the good example you could wish. Meantime, the sufferings of the lost, as sufferings, do not contribute to their happiness. The positive aspect of God’s justice maintained does so.

21. DO YOU MAINTAIN THAT THERE IS A REAL FIRE IN HELL?

Yes. The fire of Hell is a real and created fire, physical but not material, which will affect even the bodies of men who die at enmity with God. I grant that it will differ in various characteristics from natural fire as we know it. Christ chose the word fire as being that element best known to us which produces results most similar to the effects of the fire of Hell. Yet fire as we know it depends upon combustion. The fire of Hell will not depend upon being constantly fed with fuel, but upon God’s will, the principle of all existing things. If God can will that fire should exist with the aid of fuel to which He gave its properties, He certainly can produce and conserve fire by simply willing it, and without the aid of created fuel. Thus He manifested to Moses a bush in flames yet unconsumed.

And if that fire were not real, it would be absurd to speak of consigning men to it. Christ’s solemn utterance of a judicial sentence demands the literal sense. Judges do not speak in metaphors at such moments, saying, “Let him be hanged, but, of course, only metaphorically.”

22. WHAT IS THE NATURE OF THIS FIRE IN HELL?

The nature of the fire which will torment the lost is not of very great importance. Nor can difficulties concerning its nature prove the doctrine of Hell wrong. That we have difficulties proves no more than that we have them, and that is not in the least surprising when another world is being discussed on a basis of ideas drawn from this world. I grant that, although the fire of Hell is real, it must differ in nature from earthly fire as we know it, and that in many ways. The fire of Hell is a created reality, which Christ made known to us by choosing that element which in our experience produces results most similar to the effects of the fire of Hell.

23. IF THE SOUL ALONE IS SENT TO HELL AFTER DEATH, COULD SUCH A “REAL FIRE” ROAST THAT SOUL?

It is evidentthat it afflicts the devil, who is a purely spiritual being. “Everlasting fire,” said Christ, “which was prepared for the devil and his angels.” He was obviously referring to a real agent of suffering distinct from the devil and his angels. Of course, a spiritual being cannot be roasted as one roasts a chicken. But there is nothing to prevent a spiritual being from experiencing mental apprehension and actual physical pain by a created environment restricting its activities and restraining it from attaining to the possession of the happiness for which it was made. Whatever the explanation, however, the fact stands God has told us that there is a Hell. It is no argument against Hell to say, “I do not understand it.” The only possible argument would be the proof that God never did reveal the doctrine. That proof no man will ever be able to produce.

24. HEB. II, 14, TELLS US THAT THE DEVIL IS TO BE DESTROYED. WHO THEN WILL KEEP THE FIRE OF HELL GOING?

The text means that Christ will destroy the power of the devil over the souls of the redeemed. Satan will never be personally destroyed. And in any case he does not keep the fire of Hell going. If Satan had anything to do with it, that fire would have been destroyed long ago. He has never enjoyed it. However, the torments of Hell are dependent upon the will of God.

25. WILL THIS FIRE ALSO AFFLICT THE BODIES OF THE LOST?

After the general resurrection, yes. Christ has said, “All that are in the grave shall hear the voice of the Son of God. And they that have done good things shall come forth into the resurrection of life; but they that have done evil, unto the resurrection of judgment.” (Jn. V., 28–29.) So all shall rise, good and bad alike, men’s bodies sharing in the fate of the soul. And in Mt. V., 29, Christ says, grimly, not jokingly, “It is expedient for thee that one of thy members should perish rather than that thy whole body be cast into Hell.” The whole man, body and soul, will either be saved, to experience the happiness of the glorified and risen Christ, or lost, to experience the miseries of Hell. Some people have the happy little habit of believing in Heaven because they like it, and denying Hell because they don’t like it. But the Catholic Church teaches what Christ taught, because Christ taught it. The uncomfortable parts of Christ’s teachings are not untrue because uncomfortable.

26. HOW MANY SOULS ARE LOST ACCORDING TO THE CATHOLIC CHURCH?

Various theologians have expressed various opinions. But these are merely private opinions. The Catholic Church has no official teaching on the subject, nor has any definite information been revealed to men by God. The one thing certain is that men can be saved and men can be lost, and that unrepented mortal sin is the deciding factor. That is enough for all practical purposes. Yet some of the Scriptural texts show us that the number of the saved, though great, is small in comparison with the lost. Mt. 20, 16, “Many are called, but few chosen.” Mt. 7, 13–14, “Wide is the gate and broad is the way that leadeth to destruction, and many there are who go in thereat. How narrow is the gate and straight is the way that leadeth to Life; and few there are that find it.” Lu. 13, 24. “Strive to enter by the narrow gate; for many, I say to you, shall seek to enter, and shall not be able.” 1 C., 9, 24–25, “Know you not that they that run in the race, all run indeed, but one receiveth the prize? So run that you may obtain. And everyone that striveth for the mastery refraineth himself from all things; and they indeed that they may receive a corruptible crown, but we an incorruptible one.”

27. YOUR CHURCH WILL HAVE INCREASING DIFFICULTY IN GETTING INTELLIGENT MEN TO BELIEVE IN HELL

The stream of converts from the ranks of intelligent men is sufficient answer to that suggestion. If you think the Catholic Church is the Church of the superstitious and ignorant, then examine this partial list of the many brilliant minds in the literary field alone, who have become converts to the Catholic Church:

Paul Claudel, Sheila Kay-Smith, David Goldstein, Sigrid Undset, G. K. Chesterton, Compton Mackkenzie, Alfred Noyes, Joyce Kilmer, F. Marion Crawford, Giovanni Papini, Johannes Jorgensen, Maurice Baring, Theodore Maynard, Ronald Knox, Sir Bertram Windle, Shane Leslie, Max Pemberton, John L. Stoddard, Aubrey de Vere, Robert Hugh Benson, Coventry Patmore, “Artemus Ward,” Joel Chandler Harris, Michael Williams, Rose Hawthorne, “John Ayscough,” Henry Harland, C. C. Martindale, Robert H. Lord, Cecil Chesterton, Selden P. Delany, Charles Warren Stoddard, Isabel Clarke, Wilfred Meynell, Enid Dennis, John Moody, Owen Dudley, Kent Stone, etc., etc.

In one category of 3,000 American converts 372 were Protestant ministers, 115 doctors, 126 lawyers, 45 former members of Congress, 12 governors of states, 180 Army and Navy Officers, and 206 authors, musicians and persons of cultural prominence. There figures were taken from “Our Sunday Visitor.”

28. HOW CAN YOU RECONCILE HELL WITH GOD’S LOVE, JUSTICE AND MERCY?

If I could not, that would but prove something wrong with my own ideas on the subject. For it is certain that God is loving, just, and merciful; and He has revealed that there is a Hell. So the ideas cannot be repugnant. However God’s love, justice, and mercy demand that there be a Hell. His love demands a Hell, for the more He loves the more He must hate sin. To the man who says that God loves too much to send a man to Hell, I simply reply that He sends no man there; men go there. And God has loved too much not to let them go there if they scorn, reject, and throw God’s love back in His face. Again, His justice demands that if a man dies rejecting an infinite goodness he should endure a penalty of a neverending nature. If there were no eternal punishment, a man could cry to God, “You say, “Thou shalt not.” I say, “I shall.” Do Your worst. You cannot punish me forever. What care I for Your commandments or for Your- self! You must either make me happy in the end, or annihilate me, when I shall have escaped Your power.” It is impossible for the drama of iniquity to end like that. That would not be justice. And as for God’s mercy, already it is a mercy that man has the thought of Hell as an emergency brake to stop his headlong rush into vice. The truth that there is a Hell has mercifully saved many a soul from a life of blasphemy and sin, and still more often from death in a state of sin. And remember that God’s mercy is offered to every man over and over again during life. Mercy is asked for, not forced upon people. Some men who are loudest in their protests against God’s injustice would be the first to complain if God forced anything upon them, even his mercy. But men cannot have God’s mercy and reject it at one and the same time.

29. TRY AS I MAY, I CANNOT RECONCILE THE IDEA WITH GOD’S MERCY

You can safely leave that problem to God. All your speculations now will not alter conditions then. God knows best, and you can be sure that whatever He disposes will be in keeping with all His attributes, and in accordance with a far nobler and higher estimate of God than any you can form in this life. And remember that mercy is not foolishness. As a matter of fact, God offers His mercy over and over again to every soul during life. This soul cannot persevere in rejecting it, and have it. A man who leans upon God’s mercy to deny the danger, and denies the danger in order to offend God still more, is but making a mockery of God’s most precious attribute. Do you want God to forget that He is God, and plead forever with a creature that despises and rejects Him? Is it possible for the drama of iniquity to end like that? And if sin has turned purity into filth, humility into pride, hope into despair, and love into hate, what would such a soul do in the presence of God? Hell is the only fit place for it.

30. BUT CHRIST WHO CAME AS THE REVELATION OF GOD, WAS SO KIND AND GENTLE!

That intensifies the force of the arguments for Hell. Only a grim reality could have forced Him to speak as He did. He taught Heaven and Hell equally. You cannot have Heaven because you like it and reject a Hell taught by the same authority because you do not like it. Think of His passion and death. If there were no Hell to save us from; if we all had to go to Heaven whether He were crucified or not, then His sufferings and death were foolish. Men wish to abolish Hell. There is but one way to do so. Let each man abolish his own Hell by repenting of his sins and endeavoring to serve God.

31. YOU MAKE CHRIST CRUEL

I do not. Due punishment for not doing as Christ commands is justice, not cruelty. Parents know that it is not cruelty to inflict reasonable and deserved punishment upon children who are rebellious. And God has more right to your obedience than any parents to the obedience of their children. It is a blameworthy weakness in parents if they allow their children to do just as they please with no fear of the consequences. And God is not so foolish as to give serious laws to His rational creatures on the understanding that nothing will happen if they break them. But there is no need to endure the extreme penalty. Keep the laws and you will keep safe.

32. YOUR HELL IS FULL OF NON-CATHOLICS, WHO COMMIT GRAVE SIN AND DO NOT KNOW HOW TO MAKE AN ACT OF PERFECT CONTRITION

We do not know how far they understand the gravity of sin. As for the act of contrition, you are leaving out the greatest factor of all-God’s grace. In a flash God can enlighten the mind and move the will to a purely interior act of contrition of which the onlookers know nothing. And God alone knows how many are thus saved.

33. IF YOU BELIEVE IN CHRISTIANITY YOU MUST BELIEVE THAT THERE ARE INFINITELY MORE PEOPLE IN HELL THAN IN HEAVEN

I have not to believe that, and I do not believe it. Yet I believe in Christianity. Why should you, a non-Christian, prescribe for me what I have to believe? You might at least leave that to Christians.

34. ARE JUDAS AND ADAM IN HELL?

It has never been revealed that any particular soul is in Hell. Christ said of Judas, “Better for him had he never been born.” Matt. XXVI, 24. That does not look too hopeful in his case, for no matter what a man has to endure, if he attains eternal happiness in the end, much better for him to have been born. However, even of Judas, no man has absolute certainty. The question can be solved only by God. It is practically certain that Adam is in Heaven, and not in Hell. Thus Scripture says, “Wisdom preserved him that was formed by God, the father of the world . . . and brought him out of his sin.” Wisd. X, 1–2. Adam was the type of the second Adam, Christ, and it is to be expected that Christ, the second Adam, would see to it that the first Adam was fully liberated from Satan. The Greek Church from very ancient times, has celebrated the feast of Adam and Eve.

35. WHY DOES THE CHURCH OFFER US HELL WHEN WE HAVE HELL ON EARTH?

The Church offers Hell to no one. She does all she can to prevent people from going there. Meantime Hell is not in this life. Those in Hell are irrevocably lost, and no one is irrevocably lost while still in this life. Until his very last breath every man has the opportunity offered him to save his soul. Nor are the ills and sufferings of this life Hell. They are often a very good medicine, curing us of over-attachment to this earthly life. Again, Christ our Lord endured more bitter sufferings during life than others are called upon to endure, and in no way could He be regarded as experiencing contact with Hell.

36. WHERE IS HELL?

It is a state of suffering awaiting men after death, if they fail to depart this life in the grace and friendship of God. Information concerning its locality has not been revealed in terms of longitude and latitude, even could such terms avail. God has revealed that there is a Hell, but not where it is. And the latter information is immaterial, nor can any argument be based upon its absence. If the cables reported an earthquake at Potosi, your ignorance of the locality of Potosi would not disprove the earthquake. Our not knowing where Hell is makes no difference whatever to Hell. God has told us that it is a reality and that a man is a fool who does not fulfill the conditions necessary to avoid it.

37. MODERN PROGRESSIVE SCIENTIFIC THEOLOGY HAS NO TIME FOR HELL

The idea that there is no Hell is neither progressive nor scientific. It is not progressive, for it is not progress to leave people ignorant of a chasm yawning beneath their feet. If to take the truth from people and leave them in error be progress, then only could you call this progress. Nor is it scientific. There is not a jot of evidence that there is no eternal Hell, whilst God says that there is one. The men who deny Hell go by their feelings, shutting their eyes to facts. No scientist does that. I feel that there ought not to be a cancer. But there is a cancer.

38. MANY PRETEND TO BELIEVE AND ARE HYPOCRITES

Very few would pretend to believe in Hell. An immense number pretend to themselves that they do not believe, and they do so in order to carry on as tranquilly as possible in evil conduct. Those who want to suppress Hell are not characterized by a real desire to defend the honor of God, to be more scrupulous in the observance of His laws, and to be more faithful in the fulfillment of their duties.

39. BELIEVERS’ LIVES MUST BE OVERSHADOWED BY STUPENDOUS HORROR!

There is no reason why that should be at all. They have only to repent of their sins sincerely and resolve to avoid grave violations of conscience, which alone can lead to Hell. It is the man who does those things which God strictly forbids who has reason to be overshadowed, and even he by the horror of his conduct chiefly, and secondarily, by the prospect of the fate such conduct deserves.

40. WHERE THIS TERRIBLE DOGMA DOES NOT EMBITTER HAPPINESS, IT DESTROYS CHARACTER

That is a gratuitous assertion. I believe in Hell. Since it exists I would much rather know than not know. And the knowledge does not embitter my happiness. As for my corrupt character, you at least have not sufficient evidence to judge me on that point.

41. IF I COULD ROB PEOPLE OF THEIR FAITH IN HELL I SHOULD NOT FEEL ANY REGRET

That is because you do not understand the Christian religion, nor the nature of the eternal moral law. Hell exists, and since it does exist, it is treason to the God of truth and treachery to man to try to blind men to the fact.

42. TREACHERY TO MAN! ARE YOU PLEASED TO KNOW THAT THERE IS A HELL?

Since there is one, I am glad to know it. I do not want to think that there is not a Hell if there is one. And I am glad that there is a Hell. I am glad that the state has penalties attached to the breaking of its laws. If there were no such penalties, its laws would fail to preserve the peace and well-being of the community as they should. In the same way I am glad that God has a deterring penalty attached to the violation of His Commandments.

43. IS YOUR DESIRE OF HELL FOR YOUR FELLOWMEN DUE TO YOUR HUMANITARIAN SENTIMENT OR TO THE EFFETE DOCTRINE OF YOUR INFALLIBLE CHURCH?

I do not desire Hell for my fellowmen. I desire to save them from it. A truly humanitarian sentiment makes me glad that evil conduct is not a matter of indifference. It would be a dreadful thing if all men thought that they could sin with impunity. Your talk of an effete doctrine of an infallible Church is absurd.

44. 1 AM HUMAN, AND I CAN’T BELIEVE IN A BURNING HELL, ABOVE ALL FOR SOULS CHRIST CAME TO REDEEM

I cannot believe that Christ came to redeem people if there be no Hell from which to redeem them. But beware of your imagination. If you imagine a Hell which is in any way opposed to the justice and love of God, that is not the Hell you are asked to believe in at all. God is just, merciful, and truthful. He says that there is a Hell, and you are asked to believe in the Hell which He knows to exist, not in any vague speculation of your own as to its nature. Hell is as much a mystery of faith as is grace, and you are asked to believe in the fact of Hell because God knows the truth and could not tell an untruth. You are not asked to comprehend fully its nature, and your inability to believe in the Hell you imagine does not mean that you are unable to believe in the Hell which God created for “the devil and his angels.”

45. HOW COULD A MOTHER BE HAPPY IN HEAVEN WITH HER CHILD IN HELL?

She could not were her view of things limited by her present inadequate ideas. But with an unclouded view of what really constitutes goodness and of what really constitutes evil, she will have very different estimates in Heaven which will render happiness not only possible but a fact. Let us try to grasp it. Hell being a fact, our lack of understanding makes no difference. And in any case, Christ loved the child more than did the mother herself, yet He is happy in Heaven. So there must be some way out. You see, we cannot interpret Heaven in terms of this life. Here we are natural beings, our natural love directly awakened by our fellow beings. But in Heaven God Himself will be the direct object of our love. We shall love God, what God loves, and as God loves. All other beings will be loved in God. Thus Christ said concerning the difference of human love in Heaven that marriage shall not exist, but that men will be “as the angels of God in Heaven.” Matt. XXII., 30. Merely natural love will change to supernatural love in and through God, and people will be lovable insofar as they resemble God. If a son dies unrepentant, having identified himself with wickedness, then he will be the opposite of God. The mother will experience an absolute necessity to love God who is pure, just, holy, and truth itself. And she will find complete happiness in doing so. Her natural love for her son gives way to a supernatural love for him if he is pure, just, holy and truthful. But it gives way to her love for God if her child is impure, unjust, wicked and essentially a liar, as is the father of lies himself. Her transfer to Heaven has changed her reasons for loving her son, and if he dies in such evil dispositions she has no supernatural reason to love him.

All her happiness is in God, and that happiness cannot be disturbed. This may sound difficult. It must. For we are trying to explain conditions of Heaven by ideas drawn from our earthly experience, ideas which do not go far enough. The explanation gives a solution as far as the limited mind of man can go. And if it astonishes human reason, we should be more astonished still if our limited powers could fully grasp the matter.

46. IS ANY PERSON SO BAD AS TO DESERVE ETERNAL PUNISHMENT?

Yes. The man who deliberately and finally despises and rejects the Infinite Love of God deserves to be deprived of it forever.

47. SURELY HE DID SOME VIRTUOUS ACTIONS. ARE THEY TO BE OF NO AVAIL?

They would have counted for very much, had the man wished. But if he subsequently commits mortal sin and dies without repenting of it he forfeits any benefits of previous virtue. Refraining from adultery on Friday is no excuse for the commission of murder on Saturday.

48. YOU DAMN PEOPLE WHOSE WILLS ARE SO WEAK THAT THEY CANNOT AVOID SIN

None but deliberately willed and unrepented mortal sin meets with eternal punishment. If inherent weakness is so great as to destroy real responsibility, God would not accuse man of mortal sin. But such is not the case with the normal man. The normal man is able to refuse consent of the will to evil inclinations and suggestions. Some people are only too ready to call their own cowardice inherent weakness. They could have refused to sin, and afterwards fell back on the lame excuse of “weak moments.”

49. HOWEVER BAD PEOPLE MAY BE, I THINK IT IS AGAINST THE RIGHT IDEAS OF GOD TO SPEAK OF HIS PUNISHING ANYONE FOREVER

Then what are you going to do with Satan? He is a creature of God even as we. Is he going to reform? Will he ever come out of the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels? No. And granting the fact that God is punishing one of His creatures like that, responsible human souls can certainly meet with the same fate. I do not like the thought of anyone suffering in Hell any more than you do. But that will not make me deny the existence of Hell. Hundreds of it things we do not like are facts.

50. THAT ANY HUMAN BEING SHOULD BE SENT TO SUCH A HELL OF MISERY AS YOU HAVE DESCRIBED SEEMS TO ME A MONSTROUS INJUSTICE

Far from its being an injustice, justice demands a Hell. All law has a sanction, and, to be efficacious, the sanction must be proportionate to the malice of the criminal. “No sanction, no law, “ is an axiom. It is absurd to say, “You must do this,” if you have to reply to the query, “What if I do not, what will happen?” by weakly saying, “Oh, nothing!” Justice is a principle. Human justice demands sanctions. Flaunt the law; deliberately take somebody’s life, and the due penalty is incurred. But if human justice fails to apprehend a criminal, God will not fail to balance the scales of justice. Then, too, many crimes against the law of God, and against conscience, are outside human jurisdiction. But God is not mocked. And serious, unrepented sin will meet with the irrevocable penalty of an eternal living death. The soul, immortal of its very nature, cannot but survive; and it will live on forever either as the friend of God or at enmity with God. But consider the position. God manifests His serious laws. If there be no eternal retribution, a soul can cry to Him, “Oh, I know You can punish me for a time, but even You will be obliged to pardon me, to make me happy in the end. There’s no eternal punishment. Then let it all come. I care nothing for Your laws, nor shall I ever repent of having flung down the gauntlet to You. Do Your worst. I”m going to do as I like and pay no attention to any of Your rights over me.” I simply ask, would justice be satisfied if God had to pardon such a creature of His own making? The compulsory pardon of sucha creature would be to lie at the thing’s feet, insulted and trampled upon forever. No. Justice demands eternal retribution for those who knowingly and deliberately flout God’s laws and choose not to repent of having done so.

51. I STILL MAINTAIN THAT IT IS UNJUST TO BE PUNISHED ETERNALLY FOR A SIN WHICH OCCUPIED BUT A FEW MOMENTS

In our own world lifesentences are given for crimes of perhaps two minutes” duration; and no one calls it unjust. The punishment is not proportionate to the time a sin takes, but to its gravity, malice and sheer wickedness.

52. WHERE IS THIS ENORMOUS GRAVITY IN EATING MEAT ON FRIDAY, WHICH THE CATHOLIC CHURCH REGARDS AS A MORTAL SIN? HELL FOR SUCH A TRIFLE IS OUTRAGEOUS

The soul would not be punished simply for the eating of meat on Friday. It would be punished for violating a grave law of the Catholic Church. The grave law forbidding meat on Fridays takes its significance, not from the thing forbidden, but from the divine authority behind the law, and a deliberate defiance of the authority of God, certainly a mortal sin. It is a case of radical obedience or disobedience. The law is that one cannot have a given pleasure and the friendship of God. If one says, “Well, I prefer this particular pleasure to the friendship of God,” takes the pleasure, and dies without repenting, God can only say, “You can’t reject my friendship and have it.” Christ said to the Church, “Whatever you bind on earth shall be bound in Heaven.” Mt. XVIII, 18. Now, the Church binds Catholics under pain of mortal sin not to eat meat on Friday. Christ gave up His life in frightful suffering on that day, and the Church commands Catholics, as an act of grateful remembrance and in a spirit of obedience, to give up the pleasure of taking meat. And as Christ saidof His Church, “He that hears you hears Me, and he that despises you despises Me.” Lk. X, 16. Catholics know that to despise the authority of their Church in this matter is to despise Christ. You see, you have not understood the real character of the sin. To despise and reject Christ is to despise and reject an infinite good. Infinite punishment is proportionate.

53. DO YOU MEAN TO SAY THAT EVEN SIXTY YEARS OF SIN WOULD NOT BE EXPIATED BY TEN TIMES SIXTY YEARS OF SUFFERING AND MISERY?

If a man renounced his sins, repudiated his evil dispositions, and turned to God in repentant love, much less might suffice to wipe out his debts. All depends upon the intensity with which he loves God at the moment of death. A very great love of God can fully expiate past sins. Thus Christ said, “Many sins are forgiven her because she has loved much.” Lk. VII, 47. And it is a fact that God has often been most tenaciously loved by those who at one time offended him most. But if a man dies in a state of grave and unrepented mortal sin, ten times sixty years would certainly not suffice to wipe out his debt to God. He died without renouncing his evil dispositions. His time of probation is over. He dies identified with sin. He neither can, nor does he wish to change. Did he get the chance, he would commit the same sins again. His malice is a persevering debt never expiated, but concurrently renewed in the midst of his suffering. A life of sixty years in sin, taken by itself, could be expiated, provided it had been repudiated, and the will were not persevering in malicious opposition to God. But if a man has never retracted his evil will, the debt can never be wiped out. It’s not a question of past sinful actions over and done with. It’s a question of an ever-present disposition of malice irreconcilable with God.

54. HAPPILY, FOR ALL YOUR TALK OF A SUFFICIENT SANCTION, OUR PRESENT EMOTIONS ARE TOO STRONG TO BE INFLUENCED BY HAZY THOUGHTS OF THE NEXT LIFE

As thousands of people resist strong emotional attractions precisely because of their convictions concerning the next life, your statement is untrue. Our emotions are not too strong to allow us to be influenced by thoughts of the next life. I grant that many people refuse to think and ponder over the reality of the next life and deliberately allow their emotions to sway and even usurp the place of reason-not, however, happily.

55. YOUR DRY LOGIC OF JUST SANCTIONS LEAVES ME UNIMPRESSED. GOD IS A GOD OF GOODNESS, LOVE, AND MERCY

God’s very goodness and love demand Hell for the wicked, and mercy cannot be invoked on behalf of one who deliberately rejects it. Part of God’s goodness is His very justice. His perfections are in perfect harmony and cannot contradict each other. In fact, a denial of Hell is a denial of God’s goodness and holiness. Were He less holy, Hell might not be eternal. But the holier God is, the greater His aversion to sin. His infinite love also demands Hell for those who reject it. Love and hatred go together. If we are indifferent to a thing, we do not resent its destruction. But the more one loves good, the more one resents the evil which would destroy the good. The divine spirit of love is the everlasting reward of the holy yet the undying hatred which will forever enkindle the flames of Hell. It is not so difficult to understand. When the white light of the sun falls upon an object which absorbs the light, it appears white. If it reflects some of the light, it appears colored. So, when the love of God bestows being upon a rational creature, if the will absorbs all to itself and reflects none of that love to the honor and glory of God, the soul renders itself black in God’s sight, and His hatred is the result of His very love. “If I exist at all,” the soul could say, “it is because of God’s love. I cannot saywhy His love wished me to exist, but I can say why He hates me.” Let us remember, too, that the love of God prompted the incarnation of His only-begotten Son, the greatest act of love yet; and if sin was bad enough to warrant the incarnation and death of the Son of God, it is bad enough to warrant Hell for those who despise the means offered for their redemption.

56. BUT I CANNOT BRING MYSELF TO BELIEVE THAT A GOD OF LOVE WOULD CONDEMN A SOUL TO EVERLASTING SUFFERING

In a way you are quite right, but not in the way you think. A God of love supposes a God who does love, and that supposes an object loved. If a soul is the object of God’s love, that soul will not be condemned to Hell. But God is good, and loves what is good. Loving what is good, He must hate what is evil. He, therefore, hates the moral evil called sin. That is why He forbids sin. If, then, a soul identifies itself with sin, it identifies itself with the object of God’s hatred. There is no God of love for that soul whilst, and insofar as, it clings to its evil dispositions. If a soul dies without disassociating itself from evil by repentance, it will go to Hell. But it is not sent there by a God of love; it is rejected by the God of justice. You seem to think that a God of love must love everything, whether good or evil. That is not true. God is a God of love in the sense that He must love all that is good. If I am good, He is a God of love to me. If I am evil, I forfeit any claim to His love. As long as we identify ourselves with that moral goodness which God can love, He is a God of love to us, and we cannot be lost. In that sense, the God of love never condemns a soul to everlasting punishment. But the evil soul who forfeits God’s love will certainly meet with that fate.

57. DON’T YOU THINK THAT CRUELTY IS THE MOST HATEFUL VICE?

It is not the most hateful vice, but it is thoroughly evil and a form of savage brutality. However, the doctrine of Hell does not justify in any way the attributing of cruelty to God.

58. HE WHO SENTENCES EVEN THE VILEST CREATURE TO ETERNAL TORTURE IS MORE CRUEL THAN THE MOST CRUEL OF MEN

Cruelty is the infliction of punishment upon the innocent or beyond due measure upon the guilty. God is not cruel. He is just. When you mention cruelty, you unconsciously make appeal to the sentiment of human pity. Now, we pity involuntary evils. We pity the one who suffers involuntarily. We pity criminals who repent and try to make good. We pity them even before they repent if we feel that there is yet hope that they may do so. But we do not pity the man who hardens himself in his evil intentions-won’t repent, but tells us that he is going on with his malicious practices, no matter what we say. A mother who does not know how to punish does not know how to pity her child. Weakness leads to impunity. And remember that God sends no one to Hell. Men go there. God does not want them to go there, otherwise His warning us that there is a Hell would be absurd.

59. ONE WHO BELIEVES IN HELL CANNOT UNDERSTAND THE HORRIBLE NATURE OF THE VICE OF CRUELTY, NOT FEARING TO CAST A REFLECTION ON GOD

I believe in the existence of Hell. I am not in the least likely to regard that doctrine as implying cruelty in God, nor do I think I have a lower estimate of the horrible nature of cruelty than you. The God I serve abominates it, and will punish willful and serious and unrepented cruelty to one’s fellows by Hell forever. Even you don’t hate it that much.

60. GOD SHOULD SET A GOOD EXAMPLE TO MEN

He does so. Your complaint is that He manifests too great a love for the good and too great a corresponding hatred of evil. You want Him to sanction evil, and tell men that He doesn’t mind so very much if they do sin.

61. IT IS AN OUTRAGE ON CHRISTIAN SYMPATHY TO ALL WHO REALIZE WHAT HELL REALLY IS

What Hell really is, will never be realized by human intelligence in this life. The fact that there is a Hell is known because God has revealed its existence. And is it an outrage on Christian sympathy to think that God’s strict rights will be vindicated? If a man has any Christian sympathy, it goes out to Christ above all, dying in great suffering upon the cross precisely to save men of good will from the eternal punishment of Hell- and he does not sympathize with those who blaspheme and despise Christ, and fling back into God’s face this love-offering of His own Son. No man can deliberately reject God’s love and have it.

62. YOU TALK OF INJUSTICE, BUT YOU SEEM TO HAVE FORGOTTEN THE MERCY OF GOD

I have not forgotten the mercy of God. But you have forgotten that mercy is begged for, not forced upon people against their will. God will mercifully pardon anything, on sincere repentance; nothing without it. There is room for pardon, but not for impunity.

63. BUT HOW COULD A MERCIFUL GOD SEND ANYONE TO HELL?

God sends no one to Hell. Fools go there. God warns us against Hell very seriously. If He wished us to go there, the last thing He would do would be to warn us against it.

But none of these difficulties can avail against the fact. As surely as good and evil exist in this world, so do their counterparts in eternity-Heaven and Hell. And, above all, since God has said that there is a Hell, there is no use in urging our ideas as to whether there should be one or not. It is better to give our attention to the living of a life which cannot end in Hell. As Fr. Rickaby has pointed out, “There is only one way to abolish Hell; abolish your own by a good life.”

64. WOULD IT NOT BE BETTER NOT TO CREATE, THAN TO PUNISH SOME SOUL FOREVER IN HELL?

Even did that seem better to us, our little ideas are not in the measure of all that is truly wise. Creation is a fact. Hell is a fact. That souls can be lost is a fact. If we find it hard to reconcile these facts with our human ideas, we can only conclude that our ideas must be limited and inadequate, and that God’s infinite wisdom must perceive more aspects than those to which we advert. God has, in fact, revealed this truth in the words, “My thoughts are not your thoughts,nor your ways My ways.” We are too prone to concentrate on individual details and lose sight of the whole scheme. God has not to choose between creating this or that individual, but He made a race of beings propagating its kind. And He saw that the general good far outweighed the individual losses. After all, if my great-grandfather lost his soul, that would be his own fault. There was no need for him to do so. But if he had not been allowed to exist, my grandfather, my father, and myself would not have had the opportunity of saving our souls. There is no reason why I should be deprived of eternal happiness (if I attain it) because my great-grandfather chose to throw away his eternal happiness (if he did). A complete solution of the difficulty, of course, cannot be given. Man’s powers of comprehension are very limited. But reason can at least show that objections proposed by reason are not valid, and it can also show that wild conclusions and denials go far beyond any of the evidence that can be advanced in their favor.

65. THE FUTURE HAS NO REAL BEARING ON MORALITY, AND IF ANYTHING, WOULD HAVE A BAD INFLUENCE, MAKING MEN COWARDS

Since there is a future life, it has a lot to do with morality. Man is endowed with reason and is bound to exercise foresight. The future as such, whether here or hereafter, is a reasonable motive for present conduct. I refrain from eating certain foods now, because reason tells me that future indigestion will result. That is reasonable conduct. I try to refrain from morally wrong conduct because it is wrong; offends God; is a personal disgrace; and will wreck my whole future existence if I persist in it, dying without repentance. All these motives are good. If the nobler motives fail to impress me in a given temptation, the thought of hell at least will tend to stop me.

You will say, “So you are afraid of hell?” I reply, “Of course I am!” Knowing that hell is a reality, any sane man will live so as to avoid going there. It is not cowardice, but ordinary prudence. If a man leaps for his life off a railway line as an express train tears past the spot where he was standing, you would not go up to him, tap him on the shoulder, and say, “You coward, you jumped for your life through sheer fear of that train!” God gave us our reason that we might use it for our well-being, and it is quite reasonable to weigh both advantages and penalties attached to moral law.

Nor is this influence probably to the bad. The knowledge that retribution will follow violations of the moral law makes that law a real law. Could we say that all the penalties attached to the laws of the State are to the bad? Thousands of temptations to crime are resisted by citizens because of the thought of the future penalties. Nor does it matter much whether the penalty be future by a few weeks and in this life, or by some years, and in the next life. The principle is the same.

66. HAS NOT RATIONALISM MADE HAVOC OF CHRISTIANITY, REDUCING THE BIBLE TO A MYTH, AND QUENCHING THE FIRES OF HELL BY HUMANITARIAN PRINCIPLES?

It has not made havoc of Christianity. It is making havoc of Protestantism. But Protestantism is not really Christianity. The Catholic Church alone is the true representative of Christianity, and she is not affected by rationalism. The Bible is as authentic as ever, and humanitarianism has not affected the fires of hell, even as it had nothing to do with their creation. As has been well said, the only way to abolish hell is to abolish one’s own by leading a good life, and serving God.

67. HOW DOES PROTESTANTISM IN GENERAL DISOBEY CHRIST?

In general it says that Scripture is a sufficient guide to salvation, although Scripture says that it is not; it denies the authority of the Church established by Christ it has no sacrifice of the Mass; it does not believe in confession; it denies Christian teaching on marriage; it rejects Purgatory, and very often its advocates refuse to believe in hell. But I could go on almost forever. Meantime, if you give me any doctrine taught by one Protestant Church, I will produce another Protestant Church which denies it, save perhaps the one doctrine that there is a God of some sort.

A RIGHT PERSPECTIVE

I have been dealing with isolated aspects of this whole question of hell, proposed as difficulties. But their very isolation destroys perspective. Firstly, it is a mistake to think that eternal things can be measured by ideas proper to finite men; and, secondly, it is a mistake to concentrate on individual attributes of God, such as His mercy, to the exclusion of all other attributes. As Leibuity, the nonCatholic philosopher, has remarked, “We know next to nothing of God’s ways, and to wish to measure His wisdom and goodness with our finite ideas is absurd temerity.” And our separation of God’s attributes is not justified for purposes of objection. We must take all in their general connection, balancing one with another, and seeing each as the reason of the others. God is not just, and also good, and also merciful. He is justice, goodness, mercy. In the supreme unity of God these are one. It is the feebleness of our intelligence which suggests separation in these divine attributes. If hell, then, is demanded by God’s justice, it is demanded by His goodness and mercy also. And if a soul is lost, it is allowed to lose itself both by God’s justice and mercy.

Difficulties are bound to arise for us. But objections against the doctrine of hell are not justified; for he who objects supposes the doctrine of hell to be false. And that gives the lie to God, who has revealed hell to be a fact.

CONCLUSION

There is a hell. The idea of eternal suffering may not appeal. It does not appeal to me. Yet hell is a fact, nevertheless. A terrible doom awaits the finally impenitent, and it is well to remember it. And the thought of hell should at least teach us the gravity of sin. Fire gives light. Let the fire of hell give us this light. And let it harden our endurance that we may face any trial and difficulty rather than sin. “Here cut, here burn,” cried St. Augustine, “but spare me in eternity.” This life is the time of our probation, and death is the end of hope for him who dies radically opposed to God. “If it were justice alone,” writes Lacordaire, “which has prepared the abyss, there would have been a remedy. But it is love also, and this it is which takes away all hope. When we are condemned by justice, we may have recourse to love; but when we are condemned by love, to whom shall we have recourse? Such is the lot of the damned. They have tried love too far. It is life or death; and when there is question of the love of a God, it is eternal life, or eternal death.”

These are the thoughts which lend weight, indeed, to Our Lord’s words, “What shall it profit a man if he gain the whole world and lose his soul?” For loss of one’s soul means hell, and for all etemity. This is not a thought with which we may trifle. It is basic in Christianity, and alone explains the passionate desire to save souls so evident in the apostles of Christ throughout the ages. And the salvation of our own souls is equally a matter of urgent necessity. Sin must be renounced, and God must be served. “Man with his free will,” says Fr. Rickaby, “may in this life defy God; but it will not be forever. God deals with man fairly, never asking back what He has not first given to man. Nay, God deals with man mercifully, allowing, even entreating, him to take back false moves. But any one false move, in downright defiance of God, may be the last move of the game. God may foreclose the mortgage of life at any moment, and it is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the living God. Your will strongly bent in opposition to His! The outcome of such a conflict and collision with an Almighty Being is beyond the power of reason to calculate.

Augustine Joseph Roth, a former Baptist minister, tells the story of his conversion in booklet, “Out of the Wilder- ness,” Sunday Visitor, in answer to critics:

Among the many letters I received from former friends in the Protestant ministry, after it became known that I was to be received into the Catholic Church, was one from Dr. Wallace Sharpe, an instructor of a seminary that I had attended. I do not question the sincerity that prompted my preceptor to write me; however, there is one part of his letter that cannot go unchallenged. If Dr. Sharpe is sincere, he is absolutely ignorant of what he writes, and I sincerely hope that this article will enlighten him for the future. I quote part of his letter:

“You have not been fair with yourself in this matter. Instead of going to impartial sources for information, you went to a Catholic priest, and instead of an impartial informant you found a fox only too willing to praise the beauty of his own tail. I dare say that had you gone to other men of intelligence, not necessarily Baptists, you would have met so very different a story, that you could not, conscientiously, become a Catholic. The entire student body agrees on this.”

I believe that I was a fairly intelligent non-Catholic of the kind my former professor has reference to; and had any Protestant come to me to learn something about the Catholic Church, I would have given him the so-called intelligent argument. Somewhere I had read “The Awful Disclosures of Maria Monk.” Elsewhere I had read “Thirty Years in Hell,” by one who repudiated his book before he died; and at another time I wasted good time on a volume entitled “Crimes Against the Jesuits.” Fortified with this abundant supply of knowledge of the Catholic Church, I set out to warn the unsuspecting of the dangers of Catholicism. I had personally purchased and distributed no less than a hundred copies of Maria Monk and perhaps as many of the others. Whenever I was asked anything about the Catholic Church, I tipped back on my heels and swelled up like a pouter pigeon, for I considered myself a living encyclopedia and the source of all information about the Catholics. At the end of my discourse, I gave the inquirer a copy of one of these books, and strutted off like a peacock, honestly believing that I had accomplished something worth while.

For years I followed this method of dealing intelligently in regards to the Catholic Church, and regardless of my sincerity, I am sure that I turned back many an honest seeker of the Truth. It is impossible to estimate the number of Protestant ministers, using this same method of intelligently instructing others concerning the Catholic Church, and who are keeping others from the joy of the true Faith.

THEIR SINCERITY IS NOT QUESTIONED

The sincerity of these men does not help matters one iota. I have often heard these words: “Oh, well, they are sincere;” and I cannot find it in myself to condone such sincerity any more than I can condone the sincerity of the thief who steals the savings of the widow and orphan. My own brother, a well-known Baptist minister, will have nothing whatever to do with me since I became a Catholic, claiming, as he does, that I have disgraced the family. My own sister, a prominent business woman of New York, will not so much as answer a letter, charging me, as she does, with bringing shame on her by becoming a Catholic. Sincere? No doubt; but a sincerity bred of bigotry and hatred is not to be respected. A man may be quite sincere, and yet be quite wrong, just as wrong as I was in taking to heart the sinful lies of the infamous “Maria Monk”-and just as wrong, as I shall attempt to prove in this pamphlet, as my former professor is in believing that non-Catholic men and women of intelligence, are sure to speak ill of the Catholic Church.

Nor does it necessarily follow that because the faculty and the entire student body agree in what Dr. Sharpe says, that it must be so. I agree that the majority rules, but I do not agree that the majority is always right. Let me give one illustration in this respect. Yonder in prison is Barabbas; here stands Christ. Now which shall it be: Thief, murderer, inciter of riots, or, Jesus the Saviour of Men, the Prince of Peace? The majority cry “release Barabbas and crucify Christ.” The voice of the rabble, the majority, carried that day, but, who today will admit that the majority was right? In your own student body there are Methodists who think you are wrong; there are Presbyterians who think you are both wrong; there are Campbellites who think the three of you are wrong. You cannot agree among yourselves on hardly one point of Christian doctrine, but you are all united in one thing, that I am wrong because I became a Catholic.

FAIR-MINDED MINISTERS AGREE

You claim that I should have gone to non-Catholics for my information about Catholics but, the Rev. J. B. Hemmeon, a Methodist minister, does not agree with you, for he says:

“It is a strange and lamentable fact that not one Protestant in ten thousand knows the truth about the teaching and practice of the Catholic Church. Many do not know there was any other Christian Church from the first or second century until the “Reformation,” or for about one thousand four hundred years. And they believe that there was then, virtually, a new Revelation.

“When a person of common sense wishes to obtain information about anything, whether political, religious, scientific, or it matters not what it may be, he goes to headquarters for authentic information-never to those who seek to destroy, or who are the enemies of that which he wishes to study. Not one Protestant in thousands ever seeks information concerning the Catholic Church from Catholic sources. The history from the Apostles to the fifteenth century is not taught in any Protestant seminary, nor anywhere else amongst Protestants, as far as I know. Nor is it possessed by Protestants . . . I studied theology, passed my examinations for the Methodist Church, and knew absolutely nothing of Christianity, or whether there was any, during this period. When I awoke to the fact of my dense ignorance, I felt resentment; and I confess I do to this day.”

Nor is Dr. Hemmeon alone in his opinion. Says Dr. Washington Gladden, a Congregationalist of Columbus, Ohio:

“Among non-Catholics, even men of education are woefully ignorant of the Catholic Church.”

And Dr. Nightengale, a Methodist, in his, “Religions of All Nations,” has this to say:

“In scarcely a single instance has a case concerning them (Catholics) been fairly stated; the channels of history, not grossly corrupted.”

But it is not my wish to show you how many men of intelligence among the non-Catholic clergy, disagree with you. I wish to show you and those who share your opinion, that non-Catholics of intelligence, have been most outspoken in their praise of the Catholic Church, and that Protestant ministers and well-known laymen, have been most outspoken in voicing their disapproval of the Protestant Church. Let us hear what informed non-Catholics have to say.

WELL-INFORMED MINISTERS SPEAK OUT

Rev. A. M. Courtney, a Methodist, of Chillicothe, Ohio: “If I could destroy the Catholic Church tomorrow as easily as I could turn over my hand I should not do so, for it has a great mission to perform and it performs it as the Protestant Church could not do. It finds a place for every person, be he the religious enthusiast, the worker for mercy, the distributor of charity, or the recluse. It places these persons where they may do the most good, and that the Protestant Church does not do. Its writers and theologians, Thomas Aquinas, for instance, are the font of inspiration to all Christianity and its organization is the most perfect in existence. The Protestant Church owes all that is best in it to the Catholic Church.”

Rev. T. B. Thompson, Congregationalist minister of Chicago, Ill.:

“To contemplate her history is to admire her. Reformations, wars, empires, and kingdoms have been arrayed against her. After all these centuries she stands so strong and so firmly rooted in the lives of millions that she commands our highest respect. As an institution she is the most splendid the world has ever seen. Governments have risen and gone to the grave of nations since her advent. Peoples of every tongue have worshipped at her altars . . . The Roman Catholic Church has stood solid for law and order . . . When she speaks, legislators, statesmen, politicians, and governments stop to listen, often to obey. In the realm of worship her ministry has been of the highest . . . her cathedrals are the shrines of all pilgrims.”

Rev. James Benninger, a Methodist of Wilkes-Barre, Pa.:

“The reason the Catholic Church succeeds, in spite of our misgivings, is because she is true to the central fact of revelation. She makes the death of Jesus the center of her devotion, around that point she organizes all her activities. When you see a company of Catholic people on the way to church, you can be assured of this: they are not going for the sake of fine music; they are not going to hear an eloquent dissertation on “Dr. Jekyl or Mr. Hyde.” They are going to that place of worship to attend Mass. What is the celebration of the Mass? It is what we call the celebration of the Lord’s Supper. That fact is kept prominently before the mind of every Catholic. What is the first thing you see as you approach the Catholic Church? A cross. What is the first thing you see as you enter that church? A cross. What is the first thing you see a Catholic do as he seats himself in that church? Make the sign of a cross. What is the last thing held before the eyes of a dying Catholic? A cross. He comes into the Church in childhood imbued with the death of Jesus; he goes out of the world thinking of the death of Jesus.”

Rev. Madison C. Peters, a Baptist minister of New York, N. Y.:

“Catholics teach us a lesson of constant attendance upon public worship. Protestants go when the weather is just to their liking. Who has not heard early on Sunday mornings the tramp, tramp, of people, with a hard week’s work behind them, while we are asleep, hastening to the Catholic Church, with prayer book in hand? . . . Our religion is too much talk. We have too many women’s meetings and not enough Sisters of Charity.”

Rev. J. S. Thompson, Independent Church, Los Angeles, Cal.:

“The providential purpose of the Roman Church is unity and continuity. The Catholic Church is the grandest organization in the world. It has a place of consecrated duty for all types or groups of mind. The poor, the common, and the rich meet together in that Church, as children of the same common Father. The poor, hard-working man and woman are found in that Church. It is an ancient Church. It was the ancient Church before the birth of Protestantism. It has cohesion and unity and continuity. The very fact of its great age is proof of its providential purpose. It traces its descent to the founder of our common Christianity. The gates of Hades have not been able to destroy it. It stands today a victor over the opposition of centuries. It is the strongest religious force in Christendom.”

Rev. Dr. T. Moffatt, a Congregationalist of Newark, N. J.:

“What do I admire in the Catholic Church? There are seven things which the Protestant Church might imitate and which I admire in the Catholic Church, and they are these: First, emphasis of the sanctity of the marriage vow; second, the pomp and dignity and parade of the Church; third, the central unifying authority of the Church; fourth, the tone of conviction; fifth, femininity, as exemplified in the honor paid the Blessed Virgin Mary; sixth, purgatory; and lastly, confession.”

Rev. B. P. Dimmick, a Methodist, of Columbus, Ohio:

“For centuries the Roman Church was the only organized representation of Christianity in the world. During all this time she stood as a bulwark of defense against all foes that assaulted our holy Christianity. But for her, the Church of God would have perished from off the earth. During all the centuries of darkness and heathenism in the world, this Church preserved the essentials of the doctrines of Christianity. We have the fundamentals of Christian doctrine, such as belief in One True God and His Son, Jesus Christ, our Blessed Lord. A Church that has given the world the example of so many holy saints as the Roman Church has made a contribution to the uplift of the race that is incalculable.”

Rev. N. Schuyler, Protestant Episcopal, of Trenton, N. J.:

“Roman Catholicism lays great stress upon the performance of outward acts, while Protestantism affects to make light of such things. In this attitude I am firmly convinced that Roman Catholicism is right and Protestantism wholly wrong. A genuine religion must manifest itself in some outward way.”

NON-CATHOLIC LAYMEN ALSO SPEAK FAIRLY

So far I have quoted only non-Catholic ministers. The list is not exhausted by far, but space will not permit more here. However, there are others who have been no less outspoken and among these are:

The Late Senator (Mark) Hanna:

“There is a crisis coming which will have to be met and the sooner the better. There is no place in this country for anarchy and treason. In this connection I once said that in the day of trouble the United States must look to the Supreme Court and to the Roman Catholic Church. I will go further now and say that I believe the best friend and protector the people and the flag shall have in its hour of trial will be the Roman Church, always conservative and fair and loyal. This is the power that shall save us.”

John D. Rockefeller, writing in “World’s Work,” says:

“I fully appreciate the splendid service done by others in the field, but I have seen the organization of the Roman Catholic Church secure better results with a given sum of money than any other church organizations are accustomed to secure from the same expenditures.”

The Hon. Stanley Matthews of the Superior Court of Cincinnati, O.:

“I will say that from the study which I have made, as time and opportunity have given me, of the doctrinal basis of the Roman Catholic Church, I am bound to say that it is not an ignorant superstitution, but a scheme of well-conducted logic, which he is a bold man who says he can easily answer. Give them one proposition, concede to them one single premise and the whole of their faith follows most legitimately and logically.”

The Hon. W. E. Gladstone:

The Catholic Church has marched for more than fifteen hundred years at the head of human civilization; and has harnessed to her chariot, as the horses of a triumphal car, the chief intellectual and material forces of the world.”

Nathaniel Hawthorne:

“I have always envied the Catholics in that sweet, sacred Virgin Mother who stands between them and the Diety; intercepting somewhat of His awful splendor, but permitting His love to stream on the worshipper more intelligibly to human comprehension through the medium of a woman’s tenderness.”

Oliver Wendell Holmes:

“So far as I have observed persons nearing the end of life, the Roman Catholics understand the business of dying better than Protestants. I have seen a good many Roman Catholics on their deathbeds and it always appeared to me that they accept the inevitable with composure which showed that their belief, whether or not the best to live by, was a better one to die by than most of the harder ones that have replaced it.”

The great metaphysician, Heine, in his “Confessions,” says:

“I know too well my own intellectual caliber not to be aware that, with my most furious onslaughts, I could inflict but little injury on such a Colossus as the Church of St. Peter. Many a new recruit will break his head against its walls. As a thinker, a metaphysician, I was always forced to pay the homage of my admiration to the logical consistency of the doctrines of the Roman Catholic Church.”

Even Renan, writing from Rome in 1849, says:

“I came to this country singularly prejudiced against the religion of the south. I had in my mind set phrases as to this sensual, unwholesome, and subtle worship. To me Rome was the perversion of the religious instinct. I intended to ridicule freely the permanental ingenuity of the Church of Christ and of the superstitious of this land. Well, my friend, the Madonna has conquered me.

Imprimatur

@ Joannes Gregorius Murray, Archiepiscopus Sancti Pauli.

********

Hell Questions And Answers

BY VERY REV. FRANCIS J. RIPLEY

SUPERIOR OF THE CATHOLIC MISSIONARY SOCIETY

INDEX

DO ROMAN CATHOLICS BELIEVE IN THE MERCY OF GOD?

Yes. We believe most firmly all that Scripture tells us about God’s kindness towards man in his sorrows and afflictions and especially towards repentant sinners. With the Jews we pray to God as “merciful and gracious, patient and of much compassion, and true” (Ex. 34: 6). We believe that God’s mercy is immeasurably great (Ps. 50 : 3), all-embracing (Ps. 144 : 9); inexhaustible (Ps. 29 : 6); freely given (Ex. 33 : 19) and endless. One of the outstanding features of the life of Christ, who was God, was His mercy. Towards repentant sinners, mourners, the sick, the suffering and the needy He was unfailingly kind, sympathetic and compassionate.

YET DO YOU NOT BELIEVE THAT THIS MERCIFUL GOD CONDEMNS SINNERS TO AN ENDLESS HELL?

That is not strictly speaking correct. What we do believe is that those who die in a state of mortal sin of which they have not repented are separated from God forever in hell.

WHAT DO YOU MEAN BY MORTAL SIN?

All sin is the breaking of the moral law. For a sin to be mortal certain conditions must be fulfilled. They are that the transgression must be (1) in a serious matter; (2) committed with the knowledge that what we do is seriously wrong and (3) with full deliberation and consent on the part of the will. If one or more of these three conditions is missing there is no mortal sin. You cannot commit mortal sin by accident; therefore, you cannot go to hell by accident.

DOES GOD GIVE EVERY MAN ENOUGH HELP TO SAVE HIS SOUL?

Yes. “God our Saviour. . . . will have all men to be saved” (1 Tim. 2 : 4). “The Lord. . . . dealeth patiently for your sake, not willing that any should perish, but that all should return to penance” (2 Pet. 3 : 9). He does not entirely withdraw his grace even from blinded and hardened sinners. The Bible is full of admonitions to sinners to repent; these presuppose that repentance is always possible with the help of God’s grace : “I desire not the death of the wicked, but that the wicked turn from his way and live” (Ezech. 33 : 11).

WHAT DOES “HELL” MEAN?

The place and state in which the devils and such human beings as die in enmity with God suffer torment for ever.

IS HELL A PLACE?

Yes; that has always been taken for granted by the Church though it has never been defined as of faith. It is the most natural inference from the texts of Scripture.

WHERE IS HELL?

We do not know; God has never revealed that to us.

IS A CATHOLIC BOUND TO BELIEVE IN HELL?

Yes. The Athanasian Creed (5th or 6th century) professes that “it is necessary for salvation to believe that those who have done evil will go into everlasting fire. This is the Catholic faith. Everyone must believe it, firmly and steadfastly; otherwise, he cannot be saved.” The fourth Lateran Council, 1215, states : “Christ will reward all according to their works. . . . the wicked will receive a perpetual punishment with the devil.” Pope Innocent IV stated in 1254: “If anyone dies unrepentant in the state of mortal sin he will undoubtedly be tormented for ever in the fires of an everlasting hell.” From the second Council of Lyons in 1274 we have : “The souls of those who die in mortal sin go down to hell.” Pope Benedict XII declared in 1336: “According to God’s general ordinance, the souls of those who die in personal grievous sin descend immediately into hell, where they will be tormented by the pains of hell.” Earlier Pope Innocent III had written to the Archbishop of Arles in 1301: “The punishment for original sin is the loss of the vision of God; but the punishment for actual sin is the torment of an everlasting hell.”

DID JESUS CHRIST SAY WE MUST BELIEVE IN HELL?

Yes, clearly and many times : “Depart from me, you cursed, into everlasting fire, which was prepared for the devil and his angels” (Matt. 25:41). “Depart from me all ye workers of iniquity. There shall be weeping and gnashing of teeth, when you shall see Abraham and Isaac and Jacob and all the prophets, in the Kingdom of God; and you yourselves thrust out” (Luke 13:27–28). “It is better for thee to go into life maimed or lame than, having two hands or two feet, to be cast into everlasting fire” (Matt. 18 : 8). “Fear him that can destroy both soul and body in hell” (Matt. 10 : 28). Many other texts could be quoted.

IS IT NOT STRANGE THAT ST PAUL NEVER MENTIONS HELL?

He does. He says the fate of the unredeemed is to be “death” (Rom. 6 : 21–23). The encounter with God’s wrath will bring “tribulation and anguish” (Rom 2 : 5,9). “Who shall suffer eternal punishment in destruction” (2 Thess. 1 : 9). “The unjust shall not possess the Kingdom of God” (1 Cor. 6 : 9; Gal. 5 : 19–21).

WILL HELL LAST FOR EVER?

Yes; read again the texts already quoted. Jesus Christ says also : “The worm dieth not, and the fire is not extinguished” (Mark 9 : 47). St Jude refers to: “Those to whom the storm of darkness is reserved for ever” (Jude 13). St John says : “The smoke of their torments shall ascend up for ever and ever” (Apoc. 14 : 11).

MAY NOT THE WORD TRANSLATED AS “ETERNAL,” “EVERLASTING” AND “FOR EVER” HAVE OTHER MEANINGS, FOR EXAMPLE, “AGE LONG”?

Yes, but Jesus Christ contrasts eternal punishment with eternal life. Nobody doubts that heaven is going to be eternal; why then doubt it about hell? Christ says the fire will never be extinguished; the worm will never die. He said it would have been better if Judas had not been born. Nothing He said suggests that we should qualify His references to eternal fire.

DID NOT ST PETER SAY (ACTS 3 : 21) THAT ALL THINGS WOULD BE RESTORED?

Yes; but before the Judgment and not after it. He was referring to what would happen on earth, not to hell.

DOES NOT THE WORD TRANSLATED AS “HELL” MEAN SIMPLY THE GRAVE?

Sometimes yes, but not in the texts we have quoted to prove the existence of hell.

DOES NOT ST JOHN’S GOSPEL CONTRADICT THE OTHERS ABOUT HELL?

No. St John always pictured men’s future destiny in terms of eternal life or eternal loss (John 3 : 3,15; 6 : 40,55,59; 12 : 25,48,50; and 20 : 31).

DID NOT EARLY CHRISTIAN WRITERS BELIEVE THAT HELL WOULD END?

Yes, a few did following Origen (185–255). But Origen was condemned at a Synod of Constantinople in 553. Apart from these few the Fathers unanimously believed that the eternity of hell is clearly taught in the New Testament.

WHAT ARE THE PAINS OF HELL LIKE?

They are two-fold, the pain of loss and the pain of sense.

WHAT IS THE PAIN OF LOSS?

It means being deprived of the direct vision of God. It is the most bitter torment of hell.

IS NOT THE PAIN OF LOSS A MERELY NEGATIVE THING; WHAT ONE HAS NOT ENJOYED ONE WILL NOT MISS?

That is not so. The pain of loss is very positive. Anguish is caused by the frustration and emptiness of souls that were created to enjoy the direct vision of God, by their knowing that the God on whom they depend is an enemy for ever, by their remorse at having themselves forfeited the greatest blessings, by their inability to satisfy nature’s innate craving for happiness, by their consciousness that God is infinitely happy and that they are powerless against Him.

WHAT IS THE PAIN OF SENSE?

It includes all the other torments of hell except the pain of loss.

UNTIL THE FINAL RESURRECTION ONLY SOULS ARE IN HELL; BUT SOULS HAVE NO SENSES; SO HOW CAN THEY SUFFER THE PAIN OF SENSE?

The term “pain of sense” does not mean merely punishment inflicted on the bodily senses; it is certain that the souls in hell suffer from real, created, physical fire.

DID NOT SOME OF THE FATHERS OF THE CHURCH REGARD THIS FIRE AS ONLY FIGURATIVE?

Yes. only a few, among them Origen and St Ambrose, but tradition is overwhelmingly against them. The New Testament describes the punishment of hell as fire no less than thirty times. St Peter and St Jude compare it with the fire of Sodom, which was very real. No Catholic could deny that the fire of hell is real without sinning seriously against faith; it would not however be formal heresy because it is not a defined dogma.

WHAT IS THE MAIN DIFFERENCE BETWEEN THE PAIN OF LOSS AND THE PAIN OF SENSE?

The former is the absence of something, the latter the presence of something.

YOU SAY THE FIRE IN HELL IS REAL, CREATED AND PHYSICAL. PLEASE EXPLAIN THIS FURTHER

Christ, God Himself, used the word ‘fire’ to describe the torment of hell. Fire, then, must be that element best known to us which produces results most like the fire of hell. There are obvious differences. The fire we know depends on combustion; the fire of hell does not depend on being constantly fed with fuel. It depends solely on God’s will. God showed Moses a bush which, although it was in flames, was not consumed. Hell fire does not give light, for hell is described as darkness. It is capable of afflicting spirits, wherever they are and tormenting the damned unequally according to their sins.

IS IT POSSIBLE TO EXPLAIN FULLY THE NATURE OF HELL FIRE?

No, because we have to use the ideas and words with which we are familiar here to describe a world of which we have no experience. Christ used the word ‘fire’: therefore we know it is the nearest analogy. Sentimentality has pushed modern discussion of hell fire to such lengths of aversion as to make it almost non-existent. But so ancient and so universal is the teaching of the theologians that it would be extremely temerarious to deny its reality. There is real fire in hell by which the devils and souls of the damned are punished until men’s bodies finally rise. Then the bodies of the damned also suffer punishment by fire. This fire works supernaturally. As an instrument of God’s justice its effects are entirely beyond the natural powers of fire. We must not think of burning devils or separated souls. We just do not know how fire punishes them. St Thomas Aquinas conjectured that the action of hell fire was mainly one of hemming in and limiting the activities of the proudest creatures of the universe.

IS NOT THE WORD “FIRE” JUST A METAPHOR FOR THE PAIN OF LOSS?

No; it is a pain inflicted by an external agent by God’s will.

DID GOD CREATE THIS FIRE SPECIALLY FOR HELL?

We do not know. It is not necessary that He should have done so.

IF GOD EXISTS HE IS LOVE; HELL SPELLS HATRED: ARE NOT THESE TWO CONTRADICTORY?

Yes, God is love. He loves all men. In His love He gave us freedom to reject Him. If we do that what can we expect but the opposite of love? God damns only those who deliberately choose hatred and evil instead of love and goodness.

YET THIS LOVING GOD COULD PREVENT OUR CHOOSING HATRED AND EVIL; IF HE IS ALL-POWERFUL AS WELL AS ALL-LOVING SHOULD HE NOT DO THAT?

Yes, God is all-powerful; He is all-wise, too. He chose to make us free. He could have done otherwise. Our freedom does not limit Him in any way. God is not beaten by the man who rejects Him. It is not for the creature to say that the Creator should have done this or should have done that.

HOW CAN AN INFINITELY GOOD GOD INSIST ON KEEPING HIS CREATURES IMPRISONED IN AN ABYSS OF FIRE FOREVER? IS HE NEVER SATISFIED? WOULD IT NOT BE BETTER TO ANNIHILATE THEM?

It would not. If you demand the annihilation of sinners you demand that God reverse His plans; you want Him to stultify His own work and admit that He is powerless.

GOD IS MERCIFUL; WHY DOES HE NOT FORGIVE THE DEVILS AND THE DAMNED?

Because they do not want mercy; they want hell because they have decided they do not want God. There is no alternative. When God offered them mercy they rejected it and chose evil instead.

SURELY AFTER THE EXPERIENCE OF HELL SINNERS WOULD REPENT AND WANT GOD?

They would not; they have chosen evil deliberately. What you suggest is hardly true repentance, which is a loving choice of God, not something which is forced on one by the experience of pain.

DOES NOT THE BIBLE SAY (HEB. 2 : 14) THAT THE DEVIL WILL BE DESTROYED?

The Bible says no such thing. Your text teaches that the Redeemer will destroy Satan’s power over the redeemed, not Satan himself.

IS NOT ALL THIS TALK ABOUT HELL QUITE UNREASONABLE?

It is not. Reasonable men accept what God tells them. There are few things He has told them as clearly as the existence and eternity of hell.

HOW COULD A PARENT BE HAPPY KNOWING HIS CHILD IS IN HELL?

Love that is natural during life becomes supernatural after death. Supernatural love of God is incompatible with love of evil. The child in hell has freely chosen evil. The parent sees him now in the light of the justice of God.

WHAT ABOUT ALL THE GOOD THAT THE DAMNED MUST HAVE DONE IN THEIR LIVES ALONG WITH THE EVIL?

They themselves deliberately cancelled it out; they turned against it. That is what mortal sin is-the free, deliberate choice of grave evil in preference to God.

IF GOD’S LOVE FOR MEN IS SO GREAT THAT HE DIED FOR THEM, SURELY IT IS GREAT ENOUGH TO FORGIVE ALWAYS?

Precisely; God’s love has no limits. It is Himself. But He cannot forgive those who will not be forgiven. A grave sinner is one who rejects God’s forgiveness. His love of goodness is without limit; His hatred of evil is therefore in due proportion. Sin is evil; God only sends men to hell when they choose to go there by freely rejecting His love.

IS IT JUST THAT A MOMENTARY SIN SHOULD BE PUNISHED TIMELESSLY?

Quite just; the time it takes to do grave wrong is beside the point. What matters is the wrong done, that it is gravely evil and done freely.

SURELY THERE COMES A TIME WHEN ENOUGH SATISFACTION HAS BEEN PAID?

No; not if the sin is mortal. It is a complete rejection of infinite good. If a sinner knew that after a time God was bound to remove him from torment he would be in a position to threaten God, saying, as it were, “God, do your worst; I may go to hell for a million years but you are bound to have me in the end for a timeless eternity.” To think of hell in relation to time is quite wrong. There is no time in hell.

SURELY INFINITE MERCY CANNOT ALLOW SUCH AN UNMERCIFUL THING AS HELL?

On the contrary, hell is most merciful. Even though it exists God need not have revealed it to us. Knowledge of hell has prevented very many sins and their dreadful consequences for individuals and human society.

HOW CAN CHRIST BE SO CRUEL AS TO DAMN SOULS FOR EVER? HE WAS ALWAYS SO GENTLE TO SINNERS,

Precisely; He was gentle to repentant sinners. He still is. Yet this same gentle Christ said such very strong things about hell. We should take all the more notice of them therefore. Justice and reasonable punishment are not cruelty. Hell is just and reasonable. God has made serious laws for our well-being; He has told us the penalty for breaking them. He helps us by His grace at every moment to keep them. Who is to blame if we disobey?

WHAT PERCENTAGE OF MEN GOES TO HELL?

We do not know; God has never told us.

IS JUDAS IN HELL?

It seems that he is because Christ said of him : “Better for him that he had never been born”; but we do not know for certain.

IS ADAM IN HELL?

It seems not; almost certainly he is in heaven. Scripture says: “God brought him out of his sin” (Wis. 10 : 2). The Greek Church keeps Adam’s feast.

GOD IS EVERYWHERE; IF HELL EXISTS GOD MUST BE IN HELL: BUT THAT IS IMPOSSIBLE. SO TELL ME DO YOU STILL BELIEVE IN HELL?

I do; God is present in hell as He is present everywhere else by His being, His knowledge and His power.

IF GOD IS IN HELL, IT CEASES TO BE HELL; HIS PRESENCE MUST ALEVIATE THE PAINS OF THE DAMNED; THEREFORE IS NOT ALL YOU HAVE BEEN SAYING SO FAR CONTRADICTED?

No; God’s, presence in hell is merely physical. The fact that two people are in the same room does not mean that they have anything in common.

DO YOU BELIEVE THAT A GOOD AND LOVING FATHER WISHES TO TORMENT HIS CHILDREN FOR EVER?

I do not. If God wanted to do that He would not have become man to save us from hell. A child can turn against its father; the damned in hell have turned against God. They have refused His mercy.

IS NOT THAT MERCY WITHOUT LIMIT? COULD NOT GOD HAVE PREVENTED SOULS REFUSING IT? WHY DOES HE NOT DO SO?

Yes, God’s mercy is without limit. Absolutely speaking God could force His creatures to accept His mercy. But in order to do that He would have to take away their free will. That would mean, at the behest of evil, repudiating His own plan for mankind. He would be subjecting Himself to evil. Wilful sinners would triumph in the end. It is not mercy to allow men to think that evil will not have due retribution.

DOES NOT THE DOCTRINE OF HELL MAKE GOD LIKE THE MAN WHO SENDS A SHIPLOAD OF PEOPLE OUT TO SEA KNOWING THAT SOME OF THEM WILL CERTAINTLY BE LOST?

No; your comparison is faulty. You should add that the owner of the ship saw that it was seaworthy, made the first journey himself, put on board a captain who could not make a mistake, gave everybody strict instructions as to what to do and promised to be with them at all times to help them do it, and kept his promise.

YOU WILL ADMIT THAT GOD IS NOT BOUND TO CREATE CERTAIN SOULS; IF HE KNEW THEY WOULD BE DAMNED WHY DOES HE CREATE THEM?

We have already proved that hell is a fact. It is part of the plan of an infinitely wise, good and powerful God. Therefore it must be the best for His purposes. Who are we to dictate to Him? If we find it hard to reconcile certain facts we must blame our limited knowledge not God’s infinite wisdom. God saw the whole plan. He permits evil only for the sake of good.

BUT HOW CAN THERE BE GOOD IN CREATING SOMEBODY WHO IS GOING TO BE DAMNED?

The very fact of his damnation means that he is a terrible witness of the justice of God. Suppose God refrained from creating those He knew would reject all He has done to help them save their souls, He would be subjecting Himself to evil. Moreover, He would also be preventing the existence of their descendants, amongst whom might be great saints. Are we to presume that all the ancestors of all the saints saved their souls? You are asking God to regulate His plans according to what He foresees would be Satan’s success. That is surely unreasonable.

DO ALL MORTAL SINS DESERVE HELL?

Yes; they are essentially the complete turning away from goodness and the acceptance of evil. Anything less than that is not mortal sin.

Is it just that a man who dies without repenting after committing his first mortal sin should go to hell for ever whereas another person escapes hell by a death-bed repentance after a life of serious sin?

It is just. God is justice. He cannot be unjust. Remember that nobody goes to hell unless he deliberately and knowingly chooses grave evil in preference to God; he thereby rejects infinite love. Both the persons in your question were offered enough grace to save their souls; one rejected it, the other accepted it. Nobody but the sinner is to blame if he dies in mortal sin. God has surely given us enough warnings.

DO YOU NOT FIND IT HARD TO BELIEVE THAT JUST ONE MORTAL SIN MEANS DAMNATION FOR EVER?

No; because I am taught it by an infallible Church. Apart from that, I can see that this life is our time of trial. We come to the end of it having chosen deliberately good or evil. It seems perfectly reasonable that if we have made such a choice we should abide by it. If a man rejects God he chooses separation from God, and that is the essence of hell.

MUST THERE ALWAYS BE FREEDOM, DELIBERATION AND ENOUGH KNOWLEDGE TO COMMIT THE KIND OF SIN FOR WHICH ONE CAN GO TO HELL?

Yes-full deliberation and sufficient knowledge. If, for example, an insane man kills another, he would not go to hell for it.

DO YOU DENY THAT THE R.C. RELIGON IS BASED LARGELY ON FEAR?

Yes, I do. It is based on faith, hope and charity; nevertheless the Bible insists that “The fear of God is all wisdom” (Ecclus. 19 : 18). The fear of God is the fear of sons; it is a dread of offending the God who is worthy of all love, a fear of being separated from Him by sin.

ARE NOT R.C. CHURCHES FILLED MANY TIMES EVERY SUNDAY BECAUSE THE PRIESTS ARE CAREFUL TO “KEEP THE HELL-FIRES BURNING”?

I hope not. I hope our people attend Mass because they love the Mass. We have an old saying : “It is the Mass that matters.” At least they go from a sense of duty. But I would not blame unduly those who go to church because of a wholesome fear of hell. It is better to go for that motive than not to go at all. It ill becomes those who never go to church to blame those who do.

WOULD NOT R.C. PRIESTS BE WISER TO FOLLOW THE EXAMPLE OF CHRIST AND LEAD MEN BY LOVE RATHER THAN FORCE THEM BY THE FEAR OF HELL?

Every priest is urged to follow Christ’s example. Every priest indeed believes that in virtue of his mission and his orders he is another Christ. But in the ‘Sermon on the Mount’ Christ mentioned hell half a dozen times. What Christ taught about hell the Church teaches about hell and only that. The Church does not add to the teaching of Christ nor take away from it. It is my experience that sermons on hell are quite rare in our churches, perhaps too infrequent.

WOULD NOT THE R.C. CHURCH BE MORE POPULAR AND MAKE MORE CONVERTS BY TEACHING THE LOVE OF GOD MORE THAN THE FEAR OF HELL?

To say yes or no to that would be pointless. For twenty centuries the R.C. Church has taught just what her Founder Christ taught. She does not court popularity in any way opposed to Christ’s teaching. She teaches what He taught about love-”It is the first and the greatest Commandment”-and about hell. Christ, the greatest of lovers, emphasised the fact of hell firmly and frequently. Do you suggest that His Church ought to do less? The Catholic Church tries to love good and hate evil as God does. His love of good is infinite; so is His hatred of evil. They must be. God loves all men with infinite love : He wills all men to be saved. But some men return His love unwanted. It is only through His love that they exist at all. God is love and goodness; He cares infinitely for all His creatures longing for each one to achieve its purpose and hating proportionately all that opposes that purpose. The due reward of good is heaven; the due reward of evil is hell. God’s infinite love of good postulates infinite hatred of evil. Heaven is the counterpart in eternity of good in time; hell is the counterpart in eternity of evil in time.

COULD NOT THE R.C. CHURCH’S INSISTENCE ON HELL BE DUE TO WRONG TRANSLATION OF THE BIBLE?

No. The word hell is not a faulty translation. Modern usage restricts it to the meaning we have given it in these pages.

IS NOT DEATH SUFFICIENT PUNISHMENT FOR SIN AS THE BIBLE SAYS “THE WAGES OF SIN IS DEATH”?

Christ did not think so. He revealed many things about the lot of the damned. “Death,” in your quotation, is better understood as referring to spiritual death.

DO ALL THE DAMNED SUFFER EQUALLY?

No. “God will render to every man according to his works” (Matt. 16 : 27).

MAY I BE A CATHOLIC IF I BELIEVE IN HELL BUT A HELL THAT WILL NOT LAST FOR EVER?

No, you may not. The Church has defined, as we have seen, that hell is eternal. We can never understand the eternity of hell but we accept it humbly on God’s authority. There can be no conflict between hell, its nature or its eternity and the infinite attributes of God.

WOULD IT NOT BE MORE SENSIBLE TO BELIEVE THAT INSTEAD OF INSISTING ON ETERNITY OF PUNISHMENT FOR SINNERS GOD IS SATISFIED WITH A TOKEN SATISFACTION?

You are mixed up. Only those souls go to hell who die unrepentant, having rejected the grace of repentance. God has given them sufficient grace to save their souls; maybe it was the grace of repentance; always it was the grace to overcome temptation to sin: “God is faithful and will not suffer you to be tempted beyond that which you are able but will with temptation make issue that you may be able to bear it.” (1 Cor. 10 : 13) Through adequate contrition and confession the sinner’s soul is washed in Christ’s Precious Blood. On the other hand the unrepentant sinner has insisted on rebelling in a grave matter against the order God has willed for His creation. His will thwarts God’s will : if God’s order for creation is to be restored the sinner’s will must be thwarted in the same measure as he has contravened the order established by God. That contravening of the sinner’s will is punishment. It must follow sin as a shadow. It is sin’s counterpoise; intrinsic necessity demands it to restore the balance of righteousness. Just retribution is simply the maintenance of order. It is also the vindication of the glory of the God who has been wronged by sin, and a manifestation of His holiness.

Do you maintain that sin hurts God and that He has, so to speak, to “get His own back”?

No; God cannot be hurt. He can be offended and deprived of the honour due to Him. God has only one motive in punishing and that is His own infinite holiness.

ARE THERE DEVILS IN HELL WITH PITCHFORKS AND OTHER NASTY INSTRUMENTS OF CRUELTY?

There are certainly devils in hell, but the use of such instruments is the result of letting the imagination run riot. Nevertheless, the devils can afflict the damned. Their very nearness is one of the horrors of hell. They, being fallen angels, are mightier than the damned humans. The latter by yielding to the devils’ temptations have chosen them as masters in place of God for ever. They are doomed to everlasting submission to the masters they have chosen.

ARE THERE TIME AND CHANGE IN HELL?

No. “Time shall be no longer” (Apoc. 10: 6). The damned, like the saved, have come to their final state of changelessness.

MAY WE PRAY THAT THE DAMNED WILL SUFFER A MITIGATION OF THEIR TORMENT?

No. St Thomas Aquinas wrote: “The damned in hell are outside the bond of charity, by which the works of the living extend to the dead; they have actually come to the terminus of their life, receiving the ultimate requital for what they deserve, even as the saints, who are in their final home.”

It seems that in creating hell and damning souls God has done what is eternally useless. Do you not agree that according to the R.C. Church He is keeping in being an eternal evil and admitting His own failure?

No. Hell is not useless. Many people have been deterred from sin because God has told us about it. The saints in heaven must rejoice because they have been saved from hell. It is surely not evil that everyone should be rewarded according to his works. It is surely not evil that men should have free will and decide their own eternal destiny. Hell is not evil in itself. God remains infinite though some men reject Him. Hell is the logical outcome of God’s plan. If His plan were frustrated and thwarted, if He had been forced to change it, He would have failed. We must believe that His plan is the best for the purpose He had in view. God would be defeated if souls could go to heaven even though they did not love Him perfectly, if He were forced after a time to release them from hell. Those damned in hell glorify God in His justice which simply withholds His favour from those who refuse to acknowledge it.

IS HELL A MYSTERY?

Yes. It is concerned with infinite realities and a finite mind cannot comprehend the infinite. But please do not think of hell and damnation without thinking of all that God has done to save the souls of men whom He has created. “Greater love than this, no man hath, that a man lay down his life for his friends” (John 15: 13).

********

Hell! Why Talk About It?

FR. M. J. HUBER, C.S.S.R

INDEX

[A Plain talk on a vital subject for all. Read and reflect on it several times]

ONE EVENING last summer I was travelling towards the city of Melbourne along a very dangerous highway. The highway lived up to its reputation that evening by claiming three people in death. I saw the wreckage of the car that had side-swiped a semi-trailer. It was top down in a narrow but deep ditch.

“Anybody in there?” I said to a ma n who was poking the beam of a torch through the wreckage. “No. Nobody in there.”

“Anybody hurt?”

“They took two into Melbourne in a police car and there’s three dead ones there in the ambulance.” Nobody used any words just then, because, I suppose, all of us felt the same way: dryness in the mouth, tightness across the chest and shoulders; helplessness in general; and forgetfulness of all things outside that little circle where death had claimed three lives so quickly.

When such things happen our reactions are always the same. We are stunned, stupefied, speechless. Then we begin to talk; say the same things over and over until the shock begins to wear off.

But there is something much worse than fatal traffic accidents, something more horrible than plane crashes and hospital fires, and something more terrible than unexpected death in the night; something that can truly be called the greatest and saddest misfortune of all; it is that any human beings should go to hell where they will suffer horrible punishments forever and ever and ever and ever.

And can you name any three persons on whose face you ever saw the effect of shock because of the thought of even one soul going to hell? Have you ever experienced any emotional disturbance because you thought of a soul in hell forever?

Maybe it is because we have never seen hell; maybe it is because we have never seen a soul go to hell; maybe it is because we do not think enough about hell.

It is true that nobody ever went to hell because he thought about heaven. But many people have gone to heaven because they thought about hell. And it is just us true that many people are on the road to hell right now because they refuse to think about hell.

For some years a sort of silent agreement has been growing and spreading among otherwise sensible people, even among Catholics, that you must not make mention of the fact that there is such a place as hell; that if you do, personally, believe in a place of eternal punishment for those who die in unforgiven mortal sin you must not speak of it even to those who, like you, believe in hell. It’s not being done. In fact, this practice of frowning upon an open declaration of a belief in hell has been so generally accepted that any priest who is so far behind the times as to preach a rousing sermon on the eternal punishments of hell, runs the risk of being swept out of his pulpit by a wave of indignation. To put it mildly, he faces the possibility of never being the people’s choice as a preacher.

But the fact remains that human beings on their way through the world need the thought of hell to help them get to heaven, they need to be reminded of the existence of a place of eternal punishment so that they will remember that there is a place of eternal reward

Business men need hell in business to keep business honest; married people need hell in their homes to help them live a family life that is true to the law of God; young couples need hell in their company keeping to help them keep it straight and clean; the criminal needs hell beneath his feet to show him the way back to God; and you, even you need hell on the table before you, if it will keep you from eating a piece of meat on a day when it is forbidden. All the world needs hell and the thought of it to bring it back to a sense of sin.

For the world has lost its sense of sin and is playing a child’s game of living in a world of make-believe. And that is the worst sin in the world to-day; the sin of hypocricy; the sin of pretending that things are not what they are. People used to commit sin and admit that it was sin; now they commit sin and pretend that it isn’t sin; that everything is all right. That, in great part, is due to the fact that they learned to pretend there is no hell.

Would a man commit mortal sin and continue to live in that condition week after week, for months, if he really believed in hell? But if he succeeded in convincing himself that for him there is no hell, because he will not die suddenly and unexpectedly, that he will repent and obtain forgiveness for his sin before he dies, what is he doing but pretending that for him there is no hell?

Our Lord has told us very plainly that there is a hell and that in hell the devils and all members of the human race who die in mortal sin will suffer eternal punishments. On the day of general judgment, He tells us, the judge will say to the wicked,

“DEPART FROM ME ACCURSED ONES, INTO THE EVERLASTING FIRE WHICH WAS PREPARED FOR THE DEVIL AND HISANGELS.”

All denying of hell and all the pretending that there is no hell will never change the meaning nor destroy the truth of that statement.

Any man who chooses mortal sin and by mortal sin rejects God and His friendship and fully gives himself over to something less than God (which is done in the commission of every mortal sin), and keeps on making that choice until the last moment of life has passed, will keep on making that choice for all eternity. For after death the will cannot change or make another choice. The time for choosing has passed. Forever that man will continue to reject God and God must respect that choice as He respected man’s free will during life. God will give that man just what he wanted; an eternity of punishment in hell.

The punishment of hell will last forever because only in the fact that it lasts forever can hell be the punishment deserved by the man who dies in unforgiven mortal sin. Mortal sin is an offence against God Who is infinite and the offence is measured against the one who is offended; and if mortal sin is therefore infinite or without measure in its guilt then the only way in which punishment without measure can be administered to the creature who is guilty of such an offence is to make the punishment last forever.

The damned in hell realise that they have lost God forever. This realisation, which is called the pain of loss, is the most terrible of punishments of hell.

The damned in hell suffer also what is called the pain of sense. This pain is inflicted upon them by the fire of hell. The damned in hell suffer this pain not only in their souls, but after the day of resurrection and judgment this punishment of fire will be extended to their bodies.

There, in sketchy outline, you have the fundamental doctrine about hell and its punishments. It does not make delightful reading, even in cold theological language. Certainly it does not fill the mind with happy, carefree thoughts. If we really think it over seriously it makes us, to say the least, a bit uncomfortable. I suppose that is why people who want to be comfortable, even in the sins they commit, begin to deny hell, or pretend there is no hell, or simply refuse to think about hell in one way or another.

God in His heaven is well aware of the fact that men have lost their sense of sin; that they have lost the sense of hell; that they are pretending there is no hell. Isn’t it true that He permitted the Blessed Virgin to appear to the children of Fatima and show them hell open at their feet? And the Mother of God said to the children:

“YOU SEE HELL WHERE THE SOULS OF POOR SINNERS GO.”

It was not for the children’s sake that she showed them hell. She told them they were going to heaven. It was a warning to the world to stop committing sin and to stop pretending there is no hell.

We could conclude these reflections right here by saying, “Let’s think more about hell” But there is an important thought to be added, it is good to let the thought of hell help us fulfill our destiny, but our destiny is to love God. We need hell to keep us from sin, not only because sin means punishment but because sin is an assertion of self, and a denial of love of God. We need hell to help us keep the commandments, but we must remember that the greatest commandment is this:

“THOU SHALT LOVE THE LORD THY GOD, WITH THY WHOLE HEART AND WITH ALL THY STRENGTH.”

It is a beautiful thing to let the thought of hell drive us out into the desert so that we are far from all things that can tempt to sin; but the sacrifice is not complete unless above that offering we place ourselves and our heart with all its love.

Yes, it is good to say to ourselves often, “There is a hell,” and to think about the terrible punishments of hell. but let us always begin and conclude our meditation on that place of eternal punishment by saying:

“ALL 1S VANITY, EXCEPT TO LOVE GOD AND TO GIVE YOURSELF TO HIM.”

*******

Hilaire Belloc

HIS LIFE AND LEGACY

BY KARL G. SCHMUDE

INDEX

“This is the faith that I have held and hold,

And this is that in which I mean to die.”

- Hilaire Belloc, “Ballade to Our Lady of Czestochowa.”

FOREWORD

“The other day, in a curiously moving country church at West Grinstead, we laid to rest, not without the tears of memory, an old and tired man. It was a funeral of circumstance; the Mass was Pontifical, the habits of many religious Orders graced the sanctuary, and schoolboys’ voices lent an intolerable beauty to the Dies Irae. But in essence it was a country affair; some of Hilaire Belloc’s friends had met to see his body lowered into the grave—there, in Sussex earth; there, beside the wife he had so long mourned; there, with the house he had lived in for forty years, till it became ‘like a bear’s fur’ to him, only a few miles away. Today, as if humouring that other side of him, which loved stateliness and the just proportion of well-ordered things, we gather with muffled footfalls among the echoing vaults of a great cathedral—we, lesser men, who have lived so long under the shadow of his championship, to remind ourselves what it is we have lost, and to do him honour.”

In such words did Mgr. Ronald Knox inaugurate his tribute to Hilaire Belloc, in the panegyric he preached at Westminster Cathedral on 5th August, 1953. The visible life of a great and formidable figure had ended, but Mgr. Knox stressed the invisible grandeur of immortality.

For those living a quarter of a century after Belloc’s death, that immortality has yet to acquire any visible or earthly dimension. Belloc has declined in favour, not only among the general reading public which accorded him fame in his lifetime, but even in the Catholic community which he did so much to shape and strengthen. His life and writings have drifted into the coves of historical memory, and even the commemorative activities in 1970, on the occasion of the centenary of his birth, did little to resurrect his name.

To a large degree the fading of Belloc’s influence is not difficult to explain. He has experienced the customary eclipse of all authors immediately after their death, and, indeed, unless a writer had happened to be concerned prematurely with a matter that subsequently seized widespread attention—as, for example, George Orwell was with the dimensions of totalitarianism—he is unlikely to escape this trough of posthumous neglect. In Belloc’s case, his reputation has also suffered severely from the tides of social and religious change. The world he inhabited was centred upon Europe, the faith he proclaimed was centred upon France. It is in different directions that the eyes of our present generation are turned; within a non-European frame of reference that the destinies of our time are chiefly being played out.

1

Belloc was, avowedly and profoundly, a European. In H. G. Wells’s curt epigram, he appeared to have been born all over Europe. Certainly his ancestry was a rich and unusual amalgam of French, English and Irish influences. He was born in France on 27th July, 1870; his father was a French barrister and his mother an Englishwoman who figured in the early suffragette movement; his paternal grandfather had married the daughter of an Irish Colonel who was in the service of the French Crown. When Belloc was fairly young, the family moved to England, where his formal education took place. He was enrolled in 1880 at the Oratory School at Edgbaston near Birmingham—which still bore the stamp of its celebrated founder, Cardinal Newman—and he graduated in 1887 with high distinction. Thence-forward, he spent most of his life in England—undergoing naturalization in 1902—although his love of Europe and his passion for travel took him at frequent intervals to the Continent.

But Belloc was not merely a citizen of Europe: he was above all a citizen of Christendom, of a Europe shaped in the crucible of the Catholic faith. In An Open Letter on the Decay of Faith (1906), he gave expression to this citizenship:

“I desire you to remember that we are Europe; we are a great people. The faith is not an accident among us, nor an imposition, nor a garment; it is bone of our bone and flesh of our flesh: it is a philosophy made by and making ourselves. We have adorned, explained, enlarged it; we have given it visible form. This is the service we Europeans have done to God. In return He has made us Christians.”

For the Catholic people, the twenty-fifth anniversary of Belloc’s death is a particularly opportune moment to review his life and achievement. There is now an imperative need for the clarifying vision of a great Catholic mind; the spiritual penetration of a deep and authentic faith; the divine wisdom of an integrated Christian humanism. To an eminent degree, Hilaire Belloc continues to fulfil the dimensions and demands of such a vocation.

Most insistently at this time does he serve to bring the Catholic consciousness face-to-face with its past. There has emerged in recent years a profound tendency to discount the historical character and continuity of Catholicism, and to promote a compulsive spirit of escape from the Catholic past; in particular the period immediately pre-conciliar, as if this period were too benighted to qualify as part of salvation history. The origins of this tendency will not detain us here, but its influence has created in many cases a psychological barrier to any balanced understanding of the Catholic tradition. It has resulted in a sudden loss of meaning and of identity, which will only be overcome by an effort of imaginative sympathy for the people we have historically been.

“More than any other man,” declared Frank Sheed, “Belloc made the English-speaking Catholic world in which all of us live.” (Tablet, London, 25th July, 1953). He it was who challenged the social climate under which Catholics suffered, and who inspired them with a new confidence in the power and grandeur of their faith. He it was who, by means of a vital scholarship and vision, elevated and enhanced the intellectual standing of that faith. To look again at the person and mind of Belloc is to catch a glimpse of the Catholic tradition under challenge. It is to give us a salutary insight into our recent past and a vivid conception of our historical experience.

No doubt it is now difficult to evoke the memory of siege and encirclement that marked English-speaking Catholics of an earlier generation—and to appreciate the enthusiasm of relief and thanksgiving with which they welcomed Belloc, not only in England but also in countries as distant as Australia. My father, A. J. Schmude, was an early member of the Campion Society in the 1930’s, and he always recalled with spontaneous gratitude the sense of excitement and resolution which Belloc’s writings inspired among Australian Campions. As the late Frank Murphy testified:

“It is sober fact that the lively growth of Catholic Action, or the Lay Apostolate, in Australia goes back to the meetings of the Campion Society in Melbourne, in the early thirties, when young Catholic men, to meet the secularist challenge of their day wrestled with its problems in groups formed of their own initiative and which were adult education at its best . . . They read widely and they read Belloc. Not every Campion worshipped the man, but those who did made their voices heard, taking on something of his power. There is no doubt of his influence.” (Advocate, Melbourne, 18th August, 1955).

Here stood a man who could not be disregarded; whose personality and prophetic insight could not be ignored or dismissed. In a social atmosphere of supposedly greater tolerance, it is, perhaps, complacently easy to regard Belloc’s style of championship as sharply unappealing and even harmful. Yet this would be to read history backwards and to apply to another age our own more yielding standards of judgement: it would be to assume that Belloc’s importance for the Catholic people was only intellectual, and to neglect the enormous psychological benefit of his arrival. As the late Christopher Hollis observed:

“It is true that we have now moved into an ecumenical age in which it is the fashion to speak with all courtesy of those who differ from us and and in which we can with confidence look for fair-mindedness from them in return. All that is to be welcomed, but, if we feel inclined to criticize Belloc for not writing in that manner, it is necessary to remember what was the confidently Protestant English mentality of Victorian times, what was the language in which it was then the fashion to speak of Catholic beliefs, and we may then understand how it was perhaps necessary to challenge that world with a gesture of bravado in order to break down its self-confidence. If the modern Catholic writers can write to an audience from which they can confidently expect to receive fair play and can address it in moderate terms, it is largely because Belloc in his time breached for them the wall through which they can enter as perfect gentlemen and without a ruffle to the parting of their hair.” (Foreword to Hilaire Belloc’s Prefaces, Chicago, 1971).

In many decisive ways, Belloc remains to this day a powerful exemplar of mainstream Catholicism—a towering testimony to the kind of historical people we are, and the kind of tradition to which we are heir. His way of being Catholic—the incarnational way, radical and traditional, firm and forgiving, confident and humble, realistic and hopeful, obedient and free—stands as the central and compelling model of a faithful servant.

Yet the attraction of Belloc has never been restricted to Catholics. Many of his own friends did not share his religious beliefs—among them, the diplomat and author, Duff Cooper, who said: “Belloc is one of my greatest friends, but there is very little we agree about.” Again, his work has not been of interest merely to fellow-Catholics: it has tended to have immediate appeal to the young regardless of their religious background. The English social critic, Bernard Levin, who is of Jewish descent, warmly remembers his adolescent impressions of Belloc and of Chesterton. He recalls how “enthralled, stirred and delighted” he was by their writings, which were “immediately intelligible to a schoolboy,” for they “spoke of rebellion, and non-conformity, and romanticism. . . .” Belloc and Chesterton, continues Levin, “battled for their creed in fair weather and foul and command one’s respect alike by their skill and valour in the battle and the gay certainty of their convictions.” (Spectator, London, 5th December, 1958).

Apart from his ardent and romantic side, Belloc also possessed a native scepticism. “By my nature,” he once confided to a friend, “I am all sceptical and sensual—so much so as hardly to understand how others believe unseen things or do violence to their inclinations.” (Letters, London, 1958). Temperamentally, as Robert Speaight pointed out, Belloc was a child, not of the Age of Faith, but of the Age of Reason; he himself was tempted by the questionings of the 18th century Enlightenment. The total rejection of the Christian claim by a sceptic was a mood he always understood. It was, finally, the only serious challenge one which the naturally devout may be apt to discount, but which, for most people, has always been the supreme temptation; epitomized for ever in Christ’s own desperate cry from the Cross to the God Who had forsaken him. As Christopher Hollis noted of Belloc:

“Increasingly as he grew older, he came to see that whether we survive or not life was essentially about death. The question of what happens at death was the one question of real importance. He had no inborn sense of survival. The world around him bore in itself all too few marks that it was the entrance hall to a truer reality beyond itself. He was quite open to the sceptical fear that nothing was true at all.” (Catholic Herald, London, 24th July, 1970).

In his writings, Belloc addressed again and again this greatest of challenges. In 1938, he produced a short book, The Question and the Answer, which was a lucid presentation of the Catholic answer to the central question of human existence,

“What am I?”

2

It is not necessary to accept Belloc wholly or uncritically in order to appreciate and honour his principal achievements; just as it is not necessary, or even desirable, to favour a total return to a vanished Catholic past in order to appreciate and recover its permanent traditions.

Belloc was a forthright and uncompromising man whose outlook and style are now decidedly out of fashion. At the age of four, in a letter to his sister, the authoress Marie Belloc Lowndes, he wrote: “I have a drum but I’m not allowed to beat in the house, only in the garden or out in the road.” In adult life he was indeed to beat it “out in the road”—loudly and commandingly. The literary critic, Desmond MacCarthy, likened Belloc’s arrival to an express train tearing through a quiet country station. “Old newspapers, paper bags and dust would be whirled frantically into the air and sucked along with the train for a few seconds. Then he would be gone and everything would settle into its habitual quiet.”

Belloc’s temperament was essentially military. In 1891, while still a French citizen, he served in the French Artillery at Toul—an experience that both reflected and reinforced his combative leanings. He cherished a life-long affection for the French Army, and was critically shocked by its ignominious collapse in 1940. He enjoyed writing on battles and wars, and during World War I was the chief military writer for the general public; producing a weekly column as well as several books, and setting forth his philosophy of history to an audience that would never have been reached by his more systematic historical studies.

This background of military interest and propensity did not cease to be important even when Belloc left the army and entered Oxford University in 1892. Although he achieved a brilliant academic record, receiving a Brackenbury History Scholarship and taking First Class Honours in History in 1895, he found himself in an embattled environment. He failed to gain election to a Fellowship—a frustration that was always to gnaw at him, for he believed that such a post would have assured the financial security of his family, and provided the leisure and liberty with which to write the kind of books he really desired.

Belloc never forgot Oxford—in later years he would describe it as “a shrine, a memory, a tomb and a poignant possessing grief” (Letters 1958)—and he always attributed his rebuff to anti-Catholic prejudice at the University. Whatever the reason, it is unlikely in any case that Belloc would actually have been happy there: his native restlessness and trenchant style would not have been at home in the comparatively passive and permissive atmosphere of academic life.

The outcome of his failure to gain a Fellowship was a growing sense of alienation from the English society of his adoption. Belloc was not only a Catholic in a predominately Protestant culture, but a French European among English people provincial in outlook and largely unaware of the wider traditions of Western culture. Thus a pugnacity of approach that was originally physical became also intellectual and social, and thereafter Belloc never departed from his attitude of fundamental opposition to the kind of society into which England had evolved.

He knew that such an attitude would never be easy to sustain. One must, he realized, be prepared “to perform the task and take wounds and loss as necessary parts of the struggle” (Letters, 1958). For his part he was propelled by a profound sense of duty and necessity, an unquenchable passion to proclaim the truth, whatever the cost.

His years at Oxford had strengthened his resolve to play a part in English public life, and in 1906 he stood for Parliament as a Liberal candidate. Warned that his religion was a serious handicap, he rose to address a packed audience at his first public meeting, and began as follows:

“Gentlemen, I am a Catholic. As far as possible, I go to Mass every day. This [taking a rosary out of his pocket] is a rosary. As far as possible, I kneel down and tell these beads every day. If you reject me on account of my religion, I shall thank God that He has spared me the indignity of being your representative.”

Initial astonishment was followed by thunderous applause. Belloc was subsequently elected and served for almost five years. By temperament and upbringing he was a political radical of the Birmingham school for his ancestry was English as well as French—and he believed deeply in the values of social freedom and reform. He also developed a lifelong distrust and dislike of the wealthy classes, and his egalitarian spirit could never abide the aristocratic domination of society. He held passionately to the necessity and value of the French Revolution, but he maintained that it was not the French side of his inheritance that nurtured this opposition to the rich. As he told the former editor of the London Tablet, Douglas Woodruff, on one occasion:

“People think it was my French blood—because I have written about the French Revolution—that has made me against the rich, but it isn’t—it is my Irish blood! A Frenchman’s instinct when he sees someone rich and powerful is to want to join him. But the Irishman more strongly wants to fight him.” (Spode House Review, Staffordshire, August 1972).

Belloc’s experience of Parliament embittered him. He was affronted by the unashamed collusion and corruption that he saw, and distressed by the dwindling regard for common democratic liberties. He could not accept that, in political life, conviction is often tempered by compromise, and assertiveness by manoeuvre. When he left in 1910, he exclaimed acidly: “Perhaps they did not bribe me heavily enough, but in any case I am relieved to be quit of the dirtiest company it has ever been my misfortune to keep.”

3

Belloc’s most direct attack on the spurious state of modern parliamentary politics was a book he wrote with G. K. Chesterton’s brother, Cecil, called The Party System (1911). This work alleged collusion between the two Front Benches in Parliament, so that genuine democratic representation and debate on matters of principle were no longer possible. Of more lasting importance, however, is his study of The Servile State (1912), a magisterial interpretation of political and social history.

George Orwell judged this book to be prophetic, believing that it foretold “with remarkable insight the kind of things that have been happening from about 1930 onwards.” (“Second Thoughts on James Burnham,” Collected Essays, 1961),

Belloc’s essential thesis was that our society is tending towards the condition of slavery which once characterized its social relations, and that the basis of the new slavery is a legal status involving compulsory labour. The present advantage of political freedom would not check this development, since it in turn depends on an economic freedom that results from the wide distribution of property ownership. Since capitalism centralizes ownership in the hands of the few, thereby condemning the mass of citizens to insecurity and insufficiency, it is of its nature unstable. The apparent alternative is socialism, but Belloc contended that this was not a solution to capitalism but rather its logical completion. The real solution was distributism, which would preserve social liberty by the restoration of private (and in general, family) ownership and power; re-establishing property as an institution normally integral to citizenship.

More than sixty years have elapsed since Belloc enunciated his thesis of the Servile State, and the trend of events has amply justified his vision. Like all prophecies, the thesis itself is inexact in certain details; for example, it did not allow for the prodigious growth of bureaucratic control, since it assumed that social servility would be imposed by the capitalists, not by the State. Nonetheless, its central proposition—that social freedom is dependent on the decentralization of power and the existence of widespread ownership—is gaining increased acceptance, and has found expression in such works as Small Is Beautiful (1973), a highly popular endorsement of distributist philosophy by the now-late E. F. Schumacher.

Schumacher was an economist, a convert to Catholicism, who argued that technology should be adapted to the size and human needs of a given community, and that developing nations in particular should use technological products appropriate to their labour-intensive but impoverished circumstances. In addressing the problems of a technologized world and affirming the need for smaller devices and more manageable and personalized organizations, Schumacher has countered the false impression that distributism necessarily involves a pastoral economy. This assumption was widely current in Belloc’s time, and it must be admitted that his ideas were not applied sufficiently to the pressing contemporary problems of large-scale industry.

Belloc’s social thought was far-reaching in its influence, most notably in Australia where it carried a profound appeal for the Irish-Australian working-class radicalism that was energized in the 1930’s by the publication of the Catholic Worker. Launched in Melbourne by a group of men nurtured by the Campion Society, this monthly paper used Belloc’s analysis of the Servile State to explain the social condition of the times, and its first statement of principles was tersely Bellocian in flavour. The statement began: “We Fight.”

Of special interest to the Australian people has been the operation of minimum wage laws and compulsory arbitration, for these were listed by Belloc as among the signs of the Servile State. In a penetrating review of Belloc’s thesis, Fr. James Murtagh pointed out that the Australian Arbitration system is not intrinsically servile; it has not involved the worker in compulsory labour on capitalist terms, but has exercised compulsion over the employer as well as the worker. He continues:

“The attempt to establish the rule of law in industrial relations by means of wage laws, trade union bargaining, arbitration and conciliation is in line with Christian social teaching and is the only approach to rebuilding social institutions in the atomized capitalist state. The only way the worker can acquire property when he has not lost the sense and desire for it—is by means of a just wage. The only way the worker can regain status in society is through the trade union . . . Finally, arbitration and conciliation between trade unions and employers’ associations have not only greatly mitigated the evils of capitalism, but could be the first stage on the road back to the ‘guild’ principle in the form of joint industrial councils. And the restoration of the guild is an essential, element in Belloc’s sociological writings.” (“The Servile State—Forty Years After,” Twentieth Century, Spring 1953).

The thesis of the Servile State was not an isolated segment of Belloc’s thought. His mind was a remarkably integrated one, and he drew his sociology from the study of history, whose insights he applied to the broad problem of restoring a Christian humanist society.

The separation of England from Christendom at the time of the Reformation had given rise to the Whig version of history, which was essentially Protestant in its interpretation, and neglectful of the historical importance of the Catholic Church and the immense antiquity of the European tradition. Such a viewpoint affected the whole of English society and stood in the way of its return to the fullness of faith. It. was Belloc’s singular achievement—and his solitary destiny—to confront this social atmosphere and settled habit of thought that was hostile to Catholicism, and to change it.

His influence was always social rather than individual; collective rather than personal in its effects. Belloc did not convert a single mind here and there. Rather did he exercise, in Mgr. Ronald Knox’s phrase, “a kind of hydraulic pressure on the thought of his age.” He made it impossible thereafter to disregard the historical significance of the Catholic Church or to scorn the values of the Catholic tradition. In the present-day context, where practices deeply offensive to the Christian conscience (like abortion) are now receiving legal sanction, Belloc’s approach and style afford an important insight into the dynamics of popular social change. His success shows that it is not necessary, or even possible, to change the attitude of a whole society; only to change, by intellectual, social and political pressure, the respectable limits of behaviour that are supervised by the major opinion-formers (in particular the mass media).

Belloc’s special historical interest was the Reformation, and he wrote variously on it—from narrative studies, like How the Reformation Happened (1928), to historical biographies, such as those of Wolsey and Cranmer. But he also undertook to write the whole history of England so that at every period the Whig bias might be corrected. Between 1925 and 1931 he published four volumes of a History of England, covering the period until 1612; and in 1934, a one-volume Shorter History of England. He had earlier produced a concluding volume to John Lingard’s history, from 1689 to 1910. Only the years from 1612 to 1689 are nowhere treated in detail, but on this period he wrote biographies of Charles I, Oliver Cromwell, Charles II, James II, and Milton.

From the renowned French historian, Michelet (1798–1874), Belloc had learnt that “history should be a resurrection of the flesh.” To read Belloc’s historical writings is indeed to feel the past come alive; to taste the full savour of another time; to be made aware of the continuity and creative promise of tradition. Illustrative of this is his rousing conclusion on the fall of the monarchy in France:

“So perished the French monarchy. Its dim origins stretched out and lost themselves in Rome; it had already learnt to speak and recognized its own nature when the vaults of the Thermae echoed heavily to the slow footsteps of the Merovingian kings. Look up that vast valley of dead men crowned, and you may see the gigantic figure of Charlemagne, his brows level and his long white beard tangled like an undergrowth, having in his left hand the globe and his right the hilt of an unconquerable sword. There also are the short, strong horseman of the Robertian house, half-hidden by their leather shields, and their sons before them growing in vestment and majesty, and taking on the pomp of the Middle Ages; Louis VII, all covered with iron; Philip the Conqueror; Louis IX, who alone is surrounded with light: they stand in a widening interminable procession, this great crowd of kings; they loose their armour, they take their ermine on, they are accompanied by their captains and their marshals; at last, in their attitude and in their magnificence they sum up in themselves the pride and the achievement of the French nation.” (Danton: a study, 1899).

Belloc’s chief study at Oxford had been English history, and he was keen to write an historical analysis of the roots of the Protestant Reformation in England. Yet his publisher insisted that, as he was half-French, his first historical works should be on two figures of the French Revolution, Danton and Robespierre. This had the effect of identifying Belloc in English eyes as basically French in his outlook and expertise, and in a sense as the apologist for a reign of terror, which at that time was the characteristic English historical judgement on the French Revolution. Certainly his experience at Oxford had shown him that this verdict was deficient. Belloc believed that, since the English Revolution had been made by the rich, the English found it hard to grasp the French Revolution, which had been made by the people. Thus, even in writing on this subject, he found himself in conflict with dominant opinion.

4

Although combative by temperament, Belloc nevertheless suffered intensely from the strain of combat, and he regretted that the life of struggle and conflict to which he felt conscientiously called, prevented his sharing the harmony and strength of common ways of thought. “We are perpetually thrust into minorities,” he lamented, “and the world almost begins to talk a strange language.” (The Path to Rome, London, 1902).

Above all in the matter of religion did Belloc feel an intolerable sense of isolation. “I am abominably alone,” he confessed in a letter to a friend. “I feel sometimes like a sentry at night.” Yet he never shrank from the necessity to bear witness, not only in the sense of moral commitment, but also through a life of faithful conviction and prayerful devotion. In a letter to Mgr. Knox in 1923, he described the consequences of accepting such a vocation:

“Those who bear witness do so at a vast and enduring cost.

It is an act of unique value and of proportionate excellence and pain . . . It is a confirmation of the Faith in others and in all, at the expense of one’s own self. It is the most real, enduring, and endless of the sacrifices. It is militant, expects nothing, and is paid at last in coin corresponding to its permanence of effect and magnitude of service. . . . If emotion or rhetoric could determine the Divinity of Our Lord I should find it in The Agony and especially in the ‘Eli, Eli.’ That is the true note of the affair, and without it there is no witness. At least, so I think. It is a march in the night.” (Letters, 1958).

Not only professional and social strain but personal tragedy intensified Belloc’s sense of isolation and loneliness. In 1896 he married Elodie Hogan, whom he had loved at first sight when he met her in London six years before. Their union was blessed with five children—three sons and two daughters. Unlike Belloc himself, who possessed a tough constitution, Elodie’s health was always uncertain. In 1914 she died suddenly, and from the shock of her loss he never finally recovered. Her room was closed and never again used during Belloc’s lifetime; and as he passed it on his way to bed, he would pause outside and trace upon the door the sign of the Cross. In later years, he was inclined to slip away from the enclosures of work and sit quietly in his wife’s room; consoled yet saddened by the beauty of a life prematurely curtained. There he would remember—and there pray.

In 1918 Belloc’s eldest son, Louis, was killed in action on a bombing raid over Germany; and in 1941 his youngest son, Peter, died on active service in Scotland with the Royal Marines. Never for very long did Belloc escape the stabbing reminders of human mortality. His whole life, with its succession of disappointments and bereavements, was a battle, not only for the values—both natural and supernatural—of a cherished tradition, but even for survival itself. He was throughout a driven man, with a young family to raise and support and a hostile mental climate to combat and change.

Through every crisis it was his religious faith that ultimately preserved him. To Belloc, Catholicism was reality: “its whole point,” he once declared, “is the facing of reality.” (World Conflict, London,. . . . 1953). Some years after his wife’s passing, he wrote to a friend who was aggrieved by the death of her father:

“The advantage of the Faith in this principal trial of human life is that the Faith is Reality, and that through it all falls into a right perspective. That is not a consolation—mere consolation is a drug and to be despised—it is the strength of truth. We know how important life is (and no one knows that outside the Faith) but we also know that we are immortal and that those we love are immortal, and that the necessary condition, before eternity, is loss and change, and that we can regard them in the light of their final revelation and of reunion with what we love. I do not say this because I would make less the enormity of these blows. I know them as well as anyone and I reeled under them. But with the Faith they can be borne: they take on their right value. They are not final.” (Letters, 1958).

5

It might be imagined that Belloc was a morose and joyless man, totally subdued by the sad anxieties of a difficult life. Certainly he felt his burdens profoundly, as he testified in 1914 (soon after the death of his wife) in a letter to a friend who had lost his father:

“The business of human life turns, as I have heard that battles turn, not to tragedy but to agony towards the end. It has ultimate strains. And it is our business to lay ourselves against these strains with all our manhood. We are not allowed to break contact. Things of this kind must be endured, not passively, but with a sort of forward resistance . . . We suffer alone nearly always. We all die alone.” (Letters, 1958).

Yet this was only one side of Belloc; it did not exhaust the depths of his personality. He was endowed with a rich capacity for humour and enjoyment—a love of creation and a zest for life’s gifts, both spiritual and temporal. At their very first meeting, Chesterton had noticed this exuberance of spirit in his friend, and realized that it underlay his remarkable energy and courage.

Belloc bore a lifelong devotion to the land, and in adolescence had entertained thoughts of becoming a farmer. He had a keen sense of place, especially of rural landscapes, and he was alive to the intimate relationship between landscape and psychological experience. His book, The Four Men (1912), explored this relationship with great sensitivity, using the journey of four men through the Sussex countryside as the occasion for revealing the manifold aspects of his own nature. The four men (Belloc himself, a poet, a sailor and a philosopher) are, indeed, aspects of the author himself.

It was fitting that this pilgrimage (and The Four Men naturally invites comparison with Belloc’s other great pilgrimage, The Path to Rome, 1902) should have taken place in Sussex. At the age of seven his family had moved there from London. When he married in 1896, he established his own family in the same county, in a large house called “Kings Land.” It was to remain his home until his death almost half a century later, and he grew to cherish it: “it has my soul in it,” he told a friend.

Despite his trials and tragedies, Belloc never lost hold of what he called “the great lifebuoy of humour.” He not only produced works of humour—for example, the famous comic narrative poem, The Modern Traveller (1898), as well as a shelf of satirical novels—but his whole nature was threaded with a sense of fun and fellowship. Unquestionably, Belloc qualifies as a great “character,” a man whose individuality was strong and unself-conscious.

His grandson, the Benedictine Father, Philip Jebb, has provided a fascinating glimpse of the character of Belloc:

“He was always generous, and one felt that the habit of giving things to all and sundry had been deep-set in him all his life, even though it was coupled with a fine and violent strain of language and gesture when the Enemy was in sight—and there were plenty of enemies. A great day when he drove off with his blackthorn the platoon of soldiers who had started in the summer of 1940 to put up a barbed wire entanglement at the end of the vegetable garden beyond the Troll’s Hut without first asking permission! And woe betide anyone (usually some unwary French-Canadian soldier from camp in the woods around Knepp Castle) if he was found sitting in Elodie Belloc’s pew in the church at West Grinstead: he would get a sharp rap over the legs as he was driven forth with that ever-present blackthorn. Then would come the creaks and groans as he settled into his place and followed the Mass in an immense Roman missal (which must once have had its place on an altar), muttering the response half under his breath in those Tridentine days when only Dutch Modernists would have dreamt of a dialogue Mass.” (“Hilaire Belloc as a Grandfather,” Downside Review, October 1970).

His behaviour in church was often amusing—and, for some, no doubt embarrassing. In his own parish at West Grinstead, Sussex, he would periodically interrupt the priest reading out the notices by asking him in a loud voice which Sunday after Pentecost it happened to be. He was scrupulous about any debts he might have incurred, and on one occasion during Mass in Rouen Cathedral, he whispered piercingly to his friend, J. B. Morton (the famous humorist, “Beachcomber”): “I owe you fifty centimes on those last drinks.”

Despite his tenacious faith and thrusting confidence, however, Belloc had a deeply restless spirit. At frequent intervals he felt the need for an activity that would provide both challenge and repose; at once reflect the insecurity of human life and relieve its immediate stresses. At such times he would turn to the sea. For years he owned a thirty-foot cutter called the “Nona,” in which he undertook many expeditions, at times crossing to France, at times sailing round a number of English capes. It was the latter kind of trip that he used as a framework for his book, The Cruise of the “Nona” (1925); for sailing along the English coast stimulated him to reminiscence and reflection on a range of subjects—history, literature, politics, religion, philosophy and controversy.

Belloc thought that the cruising of a boat is akin to the adventure of a human soul in a larger way: undertaken with purpose yet subject to innumerable diversions; aided by unforeseen blessings and opportunities yet troubled by terrible anxieties. Abroad on the sea provides the full model and symbol of human life, and thus the suitable setting for the chance thoughts of one human being; “for it is in the hours when he is alone at the helm, steering his boat along the shores, that a man broods most upon the past, and most deeply considers the nature of things.” (Cruise of the “Nona,” London, 1925).

6

The English poet, Sir John Squire, once remarked that “the man who attempts to survey the writings of Belloc will think he is undertaking to write the literary history of a small nation.”

Without doubt Belloc’s literary output was both prodigious and versatile. He produced more than one hundred and fifty books as well as countless periodical articles. In a four-year period at the summit of his creative powers, 1906–1909, he published an historical biography; four volumes of essays (which had previously appeared in various journals); two satirical novels; two books of travel and topography; one volume of verse; and four pamphlets. Such diversity is astonishing, and it gives substance to Max Beerbohm’s comment that Belloc “wasn’t merely a man of genius; he was a man of many geniuses.” Though concentrated as a man, he was dispersed as a writer, and this has told against his reputation, since an age of specialism like our own finds it hard to admit mastery in more than one sphere.

Undeniably, Belloc ranks among the princes of modern English prose writers. He had a command of form and style, a sense of colour and rhythm, a feeling for the right word, and a flow of language resonant with the accents of speech. His prose is granite-like in its strength and simplicity. The literary critic, A. G. MacDonnell, once compared Belloc’s writing to a symphonic movement:

“The flute, the artillery trumpet, the lovely cadences of the violin, the angry clash of the cymbal and the thunder of the organ, all are contained in that magic pen. And the knowledge of a lifetime, in Whistler’s immortal phrase, is poured out through this great and unorthodox orchestra of prose.”

Numberless passages illustrate the beauty of Belloc’s writing, but a particularly memorable sample can be found in The Path to Rome, (1902) the book that is still, perhaps, most readily associated with Belloc’s name:

“I have waited for the dawn a hundred times, attended by that mournful, colourless spirit which haunts the last hours of darkness; and influenced especially by the great timeless apathy that hangs round the first uncertain promise of increasing light. For there is an hour before daylight when men die, and when there is nothing above the soul or around it, when even the stars fail. And this long and dreadful expectation I had thought to be worst when one was alone at sea in a small boat without wind; drifting beyond one’s harbour in the ebb of the outer channel tide, and sogging back at the first flow on the broad, confused movement of a sea without any waves. In such lonely mornings I have watched the Owers light turning, and I have counted up my gulf of time, and wondered that moments could be so stretched out in the clueless mind. I have prayed for the morning or for a little draught of wind, and this I have thought, I say, the extreme of absorption into emptiness and longing.”

In The Path to Rome, Belloc recounted his experiences and moods during a long pilgrimage on foot from Toul to Rome, culminating in his arrival at St. Peter’s for High Mass on the Feast of Sts. Peter and Paul. Throughout the years, the book has been read and revered, and the very title has become a commonplace in the vocabulary of Catholic conversion. Sir Arnold Lunn, who always attested that it was Belloc’s influence which first set his own feet on “the path to Rome,” believed that the fading of memory in old age was not without its consolations: it made the re-reading of The Path to Rome an agreeable necessity every year!

The book itself escapes easy classification. It is a chronicle of moods and of memories, a celebration of the author’s deepest citizenship, which was above all religious, but also cultural; Catholic, but also European. When the author first saw the Alps, he was moved to express the faith that had inspired his pilgrimage:

“From the height of Weissenstein I saw, as it were, my religion . . . the great peaks made communion between that homing creeping part of me which loves vineyards and dances and a slow movement among pastures, and that other part which is only properly at home in Heaven . . . These, the great Alps, seen thus, link one in some way to one’s immortality.”

The Path to Rome brought back to English literature a realization of the cultural heritage of Europe. Belloc’s great gift of visual imagery and his sense of the presence of the past enabled him to evoke the Western tradition in a most powerful and picturesque way. In his mind, the spiritual and the cultural were intimately intertwined, and the cultural history of Europe had about it a spiritual power of resurgence. It is the quality of Western Europe, he observed in one essay, “ever to transform itself but never to die.” (“Jose Maria de Heredia,” First and Last, London, 1911). Its cultural energies were quickened by religious faith, and Belloc was always moved when this process gave rise to the plenitude of a Catholic culture.

At one stage on his journey, he passed through a village in Switzerland. He saw all the people pouring into the church and begin to sing psalms. The spectacle was a sudden sign of a religiously united culture and a poignant reminder of the Europe that now lay divided:

“At this [sight] I was very much surprised, not having been used at any time of my life to the unanimous devotion of an entire population, but having always thought of the Faith as something fighting odds . . . My whole mind was taken up and transfigured by this collective act, and I saw for a moment the Catholic Church quite plain, and I remembered Europe and the centuries.”

This deep sense of affinity with the European past was not widely evident among English-speaking people in Belloc’s time. The Whig view of history prevented any positive grasp of cultural continuity, for it ignored the contribution of the Catholic Church. Belloc was always astounded at the extent and depth of ignorance that prevailed concerning the Church. As Robert Speaight observed:

“Here [Belloc] would say, was the thing which had determined the destiny of Europe; the thing recognized, even when it was hated, by every educated man or woman on the continent; the thing which had to be taken into account in deciding any large issue of politics or morals. And yet it was persistently ignored by the finest intelligences of the country he had made his own . . . So long as he had breath in his body he would try to explain to people what it meant to belong to a living, teaching and continuing Church.” (The Month, London, September 1953).

7

Belloc’s conception of the Catholic Church was Roman in emphasis, just as his approach to religion itself was sacramental and institutional. In a book of reflections on North Africa, Esto Perpetua (1906), he relates the story of the French commander who wanted to engrave the number of his regiment on a slab of mountain rock, only to find that a Roman officer had recorded the presence of his soldiers long before. Belloc’s sense of the European past was shaped and sharpened, by his love of Rome in its pre-Christian as well as Christian phase. He was ever conscious of what he termed “that tenacious chain of antiquity,” and he saw the Church very much as the heir of pagan Rome; an institution which had absorbed the values and traditions of classical culture and carried on the universal mission of the Roman Empire at a new and more exalted level.

Religion was never vague or abstract to Belloc: it was concrete and cultural. He was possessed of a strong sacramental sense and he recognized the immense importance of institutional support and stimulation in the matter of religious faith. He was not by nature a devout or spiritually impulsive person, nor was he an instinctive moralizer. His make-up was philosophical and cultural, formed by a logical mind and a broad social experience. His attention was focused, not chiefly upon commitment but upon faithfulness; not primarily upon morality but upon the hard core of belief and doctrine which gives morality its foundation and validity. He was intellectually convinced of the truth of Catholicism, but he realized, in company with most ordinary people, that he could not rely on the emotional experience of faith to sustain him. As he admitted on one occasion:

“I have no spiritual experience myself: or so little that I cannot weigh it. But I know and see that the Church is the salvation of mankind, and of the family and of the individual: politically and socially and in the private character it is all. Therefore to have played one’s part in the establishment and maintenance of it, especially in the difficult outposts—is much more than duty done: it is glory and the unrecognized beginning of beatitude.” (Letters, 1958).

The greatest saints and mystics enjoyed the experience of God without any aid from the senses. But, said Belloc,

“I cannot boast myself to be of such a kind, and on my own poor level it is landscape, the sea, human love, music, and the rest, that help to make me understand: and in their absence I am very empty indeed.” (Many Cities, 1928).

As a Catholic advocate, Belloc covered a vast and varied field. His output included not only history and culture, but also politics and sociology, for he understood the wide impact of religious belief on human affairs. His most significant works, like Europe and the Faith (1920) and Survivals and New Arrivals (1929), unfold certain key ideas—such as the means by which Catholicism conquered the mind and heart of pagan antiquity and became the vitalizing root of Western civilization; the fact that this extension of the Incarnation in time was the result of a Church—a body, not merely a belief, an institution, not only a faith; the realization that the dismemberment of the Church and the dissolution of a Catholic people would bring about the repaganization of society and a new night of despair.

Belloc has been charged with identifying the Church too completely with Europe and with the Latin genius that developed but did not create the Faith. There is little doubt that he did indeed minimize the Jewish contribution to Christianity and the importance of the Faith outside Europe (in the Middle East and elsewhere). In these respects he was bound by the intellectual limitations of his time; but, more importantly, his overriding aim was to correct the neglect of a central force in Western culture—the Catholic Church—and thus his work partakes of the achievements and oversights of the pioneer. Yet there remains no doubt that Belloc’s precursory efforts secured a more sympathetic reception for the stylistically tamer if more finely balanced treatises of Catholic historians like Christopher Dawson. As Mr. T. M. Butler has written in an Australian tribute to Belloc:

“He was in many ways a litigant in history, contending as an advocate against the biased contentions of the Whig theory of history. Out of the clamour of Belloc versus Whig has emerged much that has assisted later historians in their more scientific and more objective historical judgements.” (Catholic Worker, Melbourne, July 1970).

Belloc was always aware that apologetics was not a mere matter of extolling the historical triumphs of the Church. It was, pre-eminently, the challenge of demonstrating the Church’s divine capacity to answer the critical questions of human existence. As he asked in Survivals and New Arrivals (1929):

“Does [man] only mature, grow old and die, or is that process but part of a larger destiny? Have his actions permanent or only ephemeral consequences to himself? Are awful unseen powers to which he devotes gratitude, worship and fear, imaginations of his or real? Are his dead no longer in being? Is he responsible to a final Judge?”

Such questions are fundamental—and Belloc proposed the Church as the only authentic answer to them. What is the Catholic Church, he asked in a noble and oft-quoted open letter to W. R. Inge, the Dean of St. Paul’s Cathedral in London:

“It is that which replies, co-ordinates, establishes. It is that within which is right order; outside, the puerilities and the despairs. It is the possession of perspective in the survey of the world. It is a grasp upon reality. Here alone is promise, and here alone a foundation.” (Essays of a Catholic, London, 1931).

8

Few tasks are more difficult than to reanimate departed fame, and in Belloc’s case the difficulty is intensified by the kind of writing in which he engaged. His prime purpose was to teach—to form people’s minds and often also to change them; and thus it is not easy to separate his gifts from his views, or to give a precise estimate of his life and legacy. The literary critic, Frank Swinnerton, has predicted that a century will pass before Belloc’s gifts are fully realized and acknowledged; and then “his genius will shine like the jewel it is.” (Georgian Literary Scene, revised ed., London, 1969).

The resurgence of Belloc’s reputation would seem to rest chiefly on a revival of sympathetic interest in historic Catholicism, and in the Western civilization that has so far formed its most complete expression. To these causes Belloc gave himself unstintingly, knowing all the time that public judgement was as likely to scorn his efforts as it did those of the French poet and political activist, Paul Deroulede (1846–1914). Belloc may well have discerned the parallel with himself when he wrote:

“Deroulede hammered away all his life at the expense of ceaseless insult and contempt, paying for the preservation of his honour the heavy price of an unbroken isolation, and dying without seeing any apparent fruit of his effort.” (The Cruise of the “Nona,” 1925).

Not only did Belloc pursue his apostolate without public acclaim, but he knew that such work kept him from engaging seriously in a form of writing which might well have clinched his literary reputation—namely, poetry. He wrote mainly in prose because that was the appropriate weapon for combat, but he never lost his yearning to be remembered by posterity as a poet. His first published works were verse, most notably The Bad Child’s Book of Beasts (1896) and More Beasts (for Worse Children) (1897), comic verse which has enchanted a great many nurseries since its publication; and he produced at different times a modicum of verse, both light and serious, culminating in a long and painstakingly composed work, The Heroic Poem in Praise of Wine (1932). But the bugle-call to apostolic action sounded unceasingly for Belloc, and he could never linger long in what he called in one poem, “my rightful garden.”

Belloc built his life round the necessity to affirm truths that are important, “even those which seem, to others, at their first statement mere nonsense”; for he believed that “reality will in time confirm your effort.” (Cruise of the “Nona,” 1925). He himself shouldered a heavy sense of failure—and yet he never gave up. He was a man of immense character and courage, particularly of that rare kind—intellectual courage. Indeed, in large measure, his vocation was that of an intellectual martyr; and no martyr ultimately fails. In the memory of Douglas Woodruff, “the final impression is one of great integrity, of a man who never wrote anything that he did not believe . . . He was a true man through and through.” (The Month, London, July 1970).

The greatness of Belloc may still be measured by those who read his prose or verse and gain access to a luminous mind and a kindling character. He himself framed his own epitaph in verse:

“He does not die that can bequeath

Some influence to the land he knows.”

(The Four Men, 1912).

The influence of Belloc may still be felt—in a steady deepening of fidelity or a sudden rush of realism; in a summoning of courage or a call to courtesy. It may still be active in a renewed capacity to live with disappointment and the terrible ache of loneliness; in a surge of passionate anger against manifest evil; or in a willingness to stand alone for what is right in face of antagonism and unpopularity.

The spirit of Belloc may still be captured in the thunder of a voice swift to bear witness, and the silence of a heart sworn to sacrifice; in the strength of a self-confident stride, and in the humility of a face lowered in prayer.

It is no shallow spirit or insignificant influence—and it is no small legacy.

********

Holy Water

BY REV. HERM. FISCHER, S.V.D

[Authorised Translation from the German by Isabel Garahan]

INDEX

INTRODUCTION

ONE day a pious brother, advanced in years, entered my study and said: “Father, I wish you would write something about holy water. It is such a good, simple medicine for body and soul; and so many people do not know this.”

To this pious suggestion the present little book is due. Since that day I frequently found myself thinking of this “good, simple medicine for soul and body,” and finally I conveyed my thoughts into writing. In this way the seed was sown. God grant it may bear fruit.

The subject then is “Holy Water,” and its virtue. I hope the reader is not afraid of holy water; but if he is, then this little work has fallen into the right hands. At the same time it is intended for everybody. In more exact terms the subject matter is as follows: how the divine Power and the blessings of the Church are imparted by holy water; its preparation and its uses, the purposes it serves-all these can be helpful to the zealous, no less than to the indifferent Catholic. For the pious brother was right when he said: “Many do not know how good this simple medicine is.”

1.-GOD”S POWER

DOUBTLESS you are acquainted with the miracle of mercy which Jesus performed at the pool of Bethsaida. In one of the five porches to the pool lay a sick man who suffered from the palsy during thirty-eight years. For a long time he had waited in vain to be healed by the moving water. At certain times the water became agitated and whoever then first descended into it was healed of his infirmity.

The blind, the lame, the consumptive recovered their health in this water. But the palsied man had never succeeded in entering it at the right time.

One day the Saviour was passing through the porches in which a great crowd of sufferers were assembled. One of the poorest of these sad figures was the palsied man, and the heart of the divine Friend of men was filled with compassion for him. Jesus said to him: “Will you be made whole?” Ah, which one of these poor sufferers did not desire to be healed! The sick man looked up sadly at the kind Friend who putthe question to him. He replied: “Sir, I have no man, when the water is troubled, to put me into the pond. For, whilst I am coming, another is going down before me.”

In the pitiful complaint can be heard the silent request: “Will you help me, good Master? In all the years of my suffering no one has shown me so much sympathy. Help me and guide me down into the water.”

But Jesus did not need to wait until the water moved; He did not need to help the sick man to the miraculous pond. In an earnest, sublime voice He spoke: “ Take up thy bed and walk.” And St. John, an eyewitness, relates: “Immediately the man was made whole: and he took up his bed and walked.” What happiness it was for this man to be perfectly well again after such a long illness! But when laterJesus met him again, He said to him: “Thou art made whole: sin no more, lest some worst thing happen to thee.”

This beautiful story of the Gospel contains much food for wholesome thought. Let us first consider the means by which God sends us His aid. From this miracle which our Saviour worked we see that God can help man in all his needs directly, without employing any means. He requires no medicines to heal the body, no Sacraments to save the soul. The omnipotent words of Jesus restored strength and activity to the man’s palsied body and at the same time healed his soul.

But God seldom helps us so directly, so miraculously as in this case; usually He offers us His aid, in an ordinary way, through the mediation of His consecrated servants, the priests, and through the mediation of grace; that is the Sacraments, the Sacramentals and prayers. We have a beautiful example of such divine aid in the healing water of the pool of Bethsaida. The water was stirred by a mysterious power, and then it possessed the virtue of healing all infirmities. How did this happen? Whence did it derive this wonderful power to heal? St. John tells us: “An angel of the Lord descended at certain times into the pond; and the water was moved. And he that went down first to the pond, after the motion of the water, was made whole.” Thus, an angel was sent by God to bless the water. Through the angel God’s power was imparted to the water which thus became an instrument of divine aid.

We can easily understand how all the sick in Palestine sought this miraculous water, how they crowded to the pond and had themselves carried down, how they longed for the water to move and with what zeal each tried to be the first to descend into the water to be healed by its power.

How good it would be for so many sick people, if there were such miraculous water today which would effect a certain cure of every illness! But the pond of Bethsaida was destroyed completely by the repeated devastations of Jerusalem. It was only in the year 1888 that its original site with the seven porches was discovered by chance; the site was exactly as it is described in the Gospel. But it no longer contains miraculous water, and the sick are no longer healed there as was the case formerly.

But, thank God, there is another holy water, one which is nearer to us and which possesses even greater healing power, I mean the holy water of the Catholic Church. The miraculous water at Bethsaida was only to be found in one place in the world and it possessed the power of healing at certain times only. Its effects were confined to healing the body, and that only in the case of the few who were fortunate in descending into the pond when the water was moved by the angel. But the water which God also causes to be blessed and given the power of imparting grace, through His messenger, the priest, is to be found in every Catholic church: it can be taken thence to the home, and in this way we have it with its virtue by us always. It retains its power to heal and helps not only the body, but protects and helps yet more our souls, in life and in death, for time and. eternity. Now, the aim of this little book is to give an account of this precious holy water. But first we shall consider a little the power to bless which has been bestowed on the Catholic Church which offers us this holy water in God’s Name.

11.-THE POWER OF THE CHURCH

DURING HIS LIFE on earth the Saviour sent forth His apostles and disciples “ and gave them power and authority over all devils, and to cure diseases.” The disciples returned from their first mission, filled with joy, and said: “ Lord, the devils also are subject to us in Thy Name.” But Jesus answered them: “ Behold, I have given you power to tread upon serpents and scorpions, and upon all the power of the enemy and nothing shall hurt you . . . But in the same hour Jesus rejoiced in the Holy Ghost, and said: “ I confess to Thee, O Father, Lord of Heaven and earth, because Thou hast hidden these things from the wise and prudent and hast revealed them to the little ones. Yea, Father, for so it hath seemed good in Thy sight” (Luke X).

Thus the Saviour, while He was still on earth, allowed His disciples to share, to some extent, in His divine power of bestowing grace. But when He took leave of the world He gave them His full power to save and to heal: “As the Father has sent Me, so I send you.”

This is the great divine authorisation of the Catholic priesthood. Our Lord’s work as Redeemer is to be continued in the world, and to this end His priests are endowed with the power which the Redeemer Himself received from His Father. Even as Jesus healed, the Catholic priest shall and can heal, save and bless. In the Name of Jesus, the priest shall and can break the power of evil spirits, that they may not harm us. He shall and can place us under the protection and blessing of God in all places and in all conditions of life. The Catholic church has received from her divine Founder the power, through her servants, the priests, of penetrating the whole human existence with divine inspiration and grace. We have the surest foundation for believing this.

The apostles and their immediate successors and assistants, by numerous miracles, soon revealed that God was with them, that through them He bestowed His blessing on men of good will. In the days of the miracle of Pentecost it was clear that Peter shared His divine Master’s power of healing. In the Acts of the Apostles we are told that Peter met a cripple at the Golden gate who asked him foran alms. Peter said to him: “Silver and gold have I none, but what I have, I give thee: In the Name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, arise, and walk.” And, taking him by the right hand, he lifted him up and forthwith his feet and soles received strength. And he leaping up, stood, and walked, and went in with them into the temple.” (Act III).

A few pages farther on we find, in the same book, frequent instances of such miracles, the apostles being mediators of the divine aid and divine grace: “By the hands of the apostles were many signs and wonders wrought among the people. . . . They brought forth the sick into the streets, and laid them on beds and couches that, when Peter came, his shadow, at the least, might overshadow any of them, and they might be delivered of their infirmities. And there came also together to Jerusalem a multitude out of the neighbouring cities, bringing sick persons, and such as were troubled with unclean spirits; who were all healed.” (Acts V). And the following particular instance is related of St. Paul, the great apostle of the Gentiles: “And God wrought by the hand of Paul more than common miracles. So that there were even brought from his body to the sick, handkerchiefs and aprons, and the diseases departed from them, and the wicked spirits went out of them” (Acts xix). Thus we see that even the shadow, handkerchiefs and aprons of the apostles were mediators of divine assistance.

But it was not the actual vocation of the apostles and their successors, the Catholic priests, to perform miracles and heal the human body. They were called rather to save souls, to make men holy, to bring them nearer to God and unite them to Him for all Eternity. This distinction is very important.

The astonishing visible miracles which they worked were and should be no more than the divine testimony and sign of the much greater supernatural power of healing souls with which the servants of Christ are endowed. In what does this supernatural power consist? They offer the most holy sacrifice, and renew by this unbloody sacrifice, the redemption of the world by Christ at Golgotha. Infinite grace comes from the sacrifice on the altar where the Catholic priest in intercession elevates the immaculate Lamb of God. By administering the seven Sacraments he introduces souls into a wonderful world of grace. By holy Baptism man is born again, a child of God; the Sacrament of Confirmation seals his affiliation with God; the most Blessed Eucharist is his daily bread; the Sacrament of Penance renews or strengthens his affiliation with God; Marriage consecrates the family of God’s children; by Extreme Unction they are blessed at the hour of death; by Holy Orders the children of God are raised to be administrators of the means of sanctification instituted by the Son of God. How wonderful are the gifts which the Catholic Church is empowered to bestow, through her priests!

Yet her power of imparting grace is not here exhausted. Between the principal stations of our life which are sanctified by the Sacraments numerous small, but none the less important concerns enter our lives daily, hourly, which can not well dispense with God’s blessing. For these concerns the Catholic Church offers us her sacramentals, that is, exorcisms, consecrations, blessings, through which all that is harmful, especially the influence of the evil spirits, is warded off from us, and all that may help us rendered good and beneficial. To this end the Church uses the power bestowed upon her by Christ and follows the example He gave when He laid His hands on the little children and blessed them; when, looking up to Heaven, He blessed the loaves and fishes for the hungry multitudes. In the same way the Catholic Church blesses mothers and children, food and drink, dwellings, clothing, pasture and corn, domestic animals, barns, stables, workshops, machines and innumerable other things. She consecrates her churches and all that is intended for God’s service; she consecrates cemeteries and blesses the graves of our dear ones, oil, candles, herbs, palms, crucifixes, rosaries, scapulars, medals, and especially holy water for the manifold, pious use of body and soul.

The Catholic Church possesses enormous power of imparting grace; she surrounds her faithful children with innumerable spiritual helps and the divine protection. If but few receive these abundant graces, the cause lies in the want of a lively faith-a want from which our time suffers so much. That which was said of the inhabitants of Nazareth is only too true today: “Because of their little faith Jesus did not work many miracles.” Thus, because many are weak, cold and ungenerous in their faith, God cannot expend on them his supernatural graces, even through His priests. We read in the Gospel that the Saviour has always demanded a lively faith as a condition for His miraculous aid. The best prayer of petition is a lively, childlike faith.

Therefore let us increase our faith by making frequent acts of faith and by a life of strong faith. Let us look upon all the things of religion with believing eyes, and let us use them with pious zeal and a holy desire for divine aid. In this way also we should look upon holy water which is the source of abundant graces.

111.-THE SACRED SOURCE

IN THE OLD TESTAMENT we read that God sent Moses to lead the chosen people: “ Take in thy hand the rod and strike the rock and water shall come out of it, that the people may drink.” And Moses did as the Lord commanded him. A fresh source sprang up and gave forth abundant water with which the thirsty multitude were refreshed.

Now, in the new Covenant the Catholic Church holds the place of Moses. She has received the command to lead the chosen people of the kingdom of Jesus Christ and to open to them the source of grace-in the words of St. Paul, Jesus Christ Himself-is Prayer. By prayer the Church performs her work of redeeming souls; for it is extremely efficacious; of her prayer may be said, in the words of Our Saviour: “Ask and you shall receive!” By her powerful prayer also the Church sanctions holy water.

Holy water is composed of two elements, water and salt. Very beautiful are the prayers, and deeply significant the ceremonies with which the priest converts both into a mediation of divine grace; the evil spirits are exorcised so that the water may be efficacious in warding off their evil influence; and it is consecrated so that it may become a mediator of divine grace.

The priest, wearing a purple stole, blesses the holy water in the following manner:

Our help in the Name of the Lord, Who made heaven and earth.

[The Priest exorcises the salt].

I exorcise thee, creature of salt, by the living @God, by the true@God, by the holy@God, by that God who ordered thee to be put by Eliseus the prophet into the water, that the barrenness of the water might be healed; that thou mayest become exorcised salt for the salvation of those that believe; and that thou mayest be for the healing of soul and body to all those receiving thee, and that there may be banished from the place in which thou hast been sprinkled every kind of hallucination and wickedness, or wile of devilish deceit, and every unclean spirit, adjured in the name of Him who will come to judge the living and the dead, and the world by fire. Amen.

LET US PRAY

O Almighty and eternal God, we humbly implore Thine infinite mercy, that this creature of salt which Thou hast bestowed for the use of mankind may be blessed@and sanctified@through Thy mercy, that it may make for health of mind and body to all who partake of it; and that what ever is touched or sprinkled with it may be freed from all uncleanness, and from the assaults of the evil spirit. Through Our Lord Jesus Christ Thy Son, who liveth and reigneth with Thee for ever and ever. Amen.

[He then exorcises the water.]

I exorcise thee, creature of water, in the Name of God @the Father Almighty, and in the name of Jesus@Christ His Son our Lord, and in the power of the Holy@Spirit, that thou mayest be made exorcised water for the banishment of every power of the enemy, and that thou mayest be able to uproot and cast out that enemy himself, together with his rebel angels: by the power of the same Jesus Christ Our Lord, Who will come to judge the living and the dead, and the world by fire. Amen.

LET US PRAY

O God, who for the salvation of mankind has appointed water to be the foundation of Thy greatest Sacraments, graciously hear our prayers, and fill this element, which has in manifold ways been purified, with Thy power and blessing@ so that this creature of Thine, for use in Thy mysteries, may be endowed with divine grace to drive away devils and to cast out diseases; that whatever in the houses or possessions of the faithful may be sprinkled by this water may be freed from everything unclean and delivered from what is hurtful. Let no spirit of pestilence or baleful breath abide therein; let all the snares of the enemy who lieth in wait be driven forth; and let everything that threatens the safety or peace of the dwellers therein be banished by the sprinkling of this water; so that the health which they seek by calling upon Thy holy Name may be guarded from all assault. Through Our Lord. . . . .

[The Priest puts blessed salt thrice into the water crosswise, Saying:]

Let salt and water mingle together in the name of the Father@ and of the Son@, and of the Holy@Ghost. Amen. The Lord be with you.

And with thy spirit.

LET US PRAY

O God, the giver of invincible strength, and King of irresistible power, ever wonderful in triumph, who holdest in check the power of the enemy, who overcomest the fury of raging enemies, who by Thy might gainest the victory over all their guile; we humbly pray and beseech Thee, O Lord, to look upon this Thy creation of salt and water, to bless it in Thy mercy and hallow it with the dew of Thy loving kindness: that wherever it be sprinkled and Thy holy Name shall be invoked in prayer, every assault of the unclean spirit may be baffled, all fear of the venomous serpent cast out, and the presence of the Holy Spirit everywhere vouchsafed to us who entreat Thy mercy. Through Our Lord . . . in the unity of the same Holy Ghost. . . .

These are the sublime prayers and ceremonies with which the Priest in obedience to the holy Church blesses the holy water for the pious use of the faithful.

IV. -THE PROFOUND AND BEAUTIFUL SIGNIFICANCE OF HOLY WATER. THE SAVIOUR taught by means of parables and similes in order to render the divine truths clearer and more easily understood by His audience. He used the same method of teaching in the institution of His means of grace which in their outward signs are mainly symbolic of the effects which they produce in the soul. Thus the washing in Baptism is symbolic of cleansing the soul of original sin; the anointing with Chrism at Confirmation is symbolic of fortifying the soul to fight for the Faith; the bread under the form of which the Blessed Eucharist is received is a symbol of food for the soul, and so on. In the same way holy water is a beautiful, profound symbol of its significance and its effects on body and soul.

Pure water is clear and transparent. In it the heavens are reflected, the light of the sun, and the light of the stars. Similarly our souls should radiate purity that in them may be clearly reflected the heavens of faith, the sun of divine charity, and the starlight of the Christian virtues.

Water cleanses and purifies. Holy water reminds us that our souls have been washed and made pure by the water of holy Baptism, and thereby we have been received into the community of the children of God. Every time we sign our foreheads with holy water, we are reminded of our holy baptismal vows and of the obligation then undertaken, to keep our souls pure. So too holy water is a constant exhortation to purge our hearts from sin by penance and reparation. For this reason pious Christians when taking holy water, pray: “Thou shalt sprinkle me with hyssop, O Lord, and I shall be cleansed; Thou shalt wash me, and I shall be made whiter than snow.”

Water quenches our thirst and refreshes us, it revives and fructifies the earth, falling from the heavens as rain or dew, Holy water is a symbol of the dew of divine grace which refreshes our souls and fructifies our work, so that it becomes a service of God.

Water cools the hot air and extinguishes fire. Holy water should remind us that we must cool the ardour of our passions and extinguish the fire of inordinate desires.

The salt which is mixed with the water during the blessing bears a threefold symbolic meaning. In the first place, salt preserves from corruption. Our souls should be preserved from the corruption of sin, especially grievous sin and kept fresh and pure throughout our lives as children of God. Again, salt has always been regarded as a symbol of wisdom. But Christian wisdom leads to a wholesome fear of God and thence to a love of God. Finally, salt imparts an agreeable taste to food to which it is added; and so, too, virtue makes our souls pleasing to God.

Finally, let us consider the many signs of the cross which the priest makes over the elements when blessing the holy water and mixing the salt with it; and how we ourselves make the sign of the cross when we take holy water The meaning of this is that all the graces and helps which we receive from God have been merited for us by the sacrifice made by Jesus Christ on the Cross and flow to us from this source.

From all this we see how inspiring holy water is. It is true that only the Catholic who is imbued with holy faith can understand these truths and receive the grace that is derived from its use. Only the believing Catholic can have a right understanding of the beneficial operation of holy water on body and soul.

V.-EFFECTS OF HOLY WATER

IF WE would know the effects of using holy water and its advantages, we need only to read the prayers said by the priest during the blessing, according to which we are offered the following helps:

1. Protection against the evil spirit, the devil. We cannot fail to be impressed by the urgent supplication of the Church, during the blessing of holy water, for protection from the infernal enemy, from his cunning and wickedness. This petition recurs in each of the five prayers. For the Catholic Church is deeply convinced that Satan brought on man sin and its sad consequences, and that he never ceases to harm him when he can. As he once made use of the fruit of the tree in Paradise to rob our first parents of God’s friendship, he continues to use for our destruction the creatures intended for our use. Therefore the Church, by exorcising, prays to God that the devil and his evil influence may give way before holy water and everything with which it is sprinkled.

How terrible is the power of Satan we see from the accounts given in the Gospel of the possessed who were liberated by the Saviour or his apostles. St. Paul warns us: “The devil goeth about like a roaring lion, seeking whom he may devour. Whom resist ye, strong in faith.” Among the many means of resisting the devil, holy water holds a very special place, since it has been specially blessed that it may break the power and wickedness of Satan. Later, in an account of St. Teresa, we shall learn something of the extraordinary power which holy water has against the snares of the devil.

2. Protection from Storms and the Damage caused by them. When holy water is being blessed, the Church prays God that wherever holy water is sprinkled, disaster caused by storms may be warded off.

3. Well-being of the Body. The Church prays that holy water may protect us from illness, especially infectious diseases.

4. Holy water brings us help and grace for the sanctification of our souls. This is the first aim of all supernatural means of grace. When we sprinkle ourselves devoutly with holy water, the merits of the precious Blood of Jesus are applied to our souls.

5. Pardon for Venial Sins and the remittance of the temporal punishment due to sin are obtained when we use holy water devoutly and make an act of contrition. This is true in the case of all sacramentals. But there is scarcely any one which we can use for this purpose so easily and conveniently or so frequently as holy water. How many graces we can obtain for our souls, and what an easy way of going through our Purgatory here on earth by frequent devout use of this means of grace!

6. By using holy water we obtain the assistance of the Holy Ghost, for the Church prays that through the power of holy water, the Holy Ghost may be always present by us. The evil spirit will be expelled; but the divine Spirit, will enter our hearts and our dwellings when we sanctify them by using holy water.

7. Finally, by holy water consolation and mitigation of punishment can be obtained for the holy souls. We know this from the beautiful ceremonies observed by the Church at the burial of her children. The body, coffin and grave are sprinkled with holy water. The body being blessed, shall rest in consecrated ground; and by God’s mercy the soul shall be given consolation and mitigation in Purgatory. “As the flowers, withered by the heat of the sun, are refreshed by the gentle shower of rain, so too Heaven’s flowers burning in Purgatory, are refreshed by holy water.”-(St. Theodatus).

It is through the power of the prayers of the Church that holy water possesses the effects enumerated above. Prayer, above all the prayer of the Church, can obtain the divine assistance even for one utterly undeserving. Therefore holy water will not be used in vain even in the case of one who is in the state of mortal sin. It can always bring him predisposing grace to return to God’s friendship, protection of the body and other assistance. But its power is far greater when used by those in the state of grace and applied with devout intention. The words spoken by the Redeemer when the apostles desired peace may be applied to the Church’s blessing: “And when you come into the house, salute it, saying, “Peace be to this house!” And if that house be worthy, your peace shall come upon it” (Matt. xx). Similarly when holy water is used devoutly, the numerous blessings pronounced by the Church at the blessing of the holy water, will be received by the children of God, by Catholics, who are in the state of sanctifying grace.

The blessings obtained from a devout use of holy water are indeed manifold. But how should it be applied? Again, we should imitate the example of the holy Church.

VI. -THE EXAMPLE OF THE CHURCH

THE USE of holy water in the Catholic Church is a time-honoured custom. In the first centuries it was usual to sprinkle the faithful with holy water. St. Chrysostom relates that the faithful used to take holy water to their houses and keep it throughout the year.

And the ecclesiastical writers of the fourth century make mention of a basin or other receptacle containing holy water which stood at the entrance of the churches for the use of the faithful. Since that time more and more numerous accounts have been given of the manifold, devout use of holy water. And so it has remained to the present day.

When you enter the house of God, the Church invites you to take holy water from the font which is placed at the door. You take it and make the sign of the holy cross.

This is to remind you to approach the throne of the Most High with purified soul.

At solemn High Mass on Sundays, you notice that the priest, before beginning the holy sacrifice, first sprinkles the congregation with holy water, the following verse being sung: “Thou shalt sprinkle me with hyssop, O Lord, and I shall be cleansed; Thou shalt wash me, and I shall be made whiter than snow.” In Paschal time the following is sung: “ I see water flowing from the right side of the temple, Alleluia; and all to whom that water came were saved, and they shall say: “Alleluia, Alleluia!”” By this blessing the Church desires to prepare her children and make them worthy to assist in a becoming and meritorious manner at the most holy sacrifice of the New Covenant. In some places this ceremony of sprinkling the faithful with holy water takes place before every holy Mass and, moreover, at evening devotions.

The care of the holy Church for her children extends even beyond death. We have already mentioned that at the burial service the coffin and the grave are sprinkled with holy water. The Church desires that her children shall rest in holy ground. Therefore cemeteries are consecrated. In many churchyards holy water fonts stand by the graves, which are sprinkled by the relatives, especially on Sundays. By this beautiful custom the Church reminds us that underneath rests the body of one who through Baptism was born again and that, notwithstanding decay and death, it will rise again to everlasting life and glorification. At the same time we are exhorted to remember the soul that has departed, and to comfort and help it in Purgatory by the sacramental of holy water. Like all the sacramentals, holy water has the power of imparting graces; we can apply these graces to the souls in Purgatory.

Again, if one of her children is sick, the Church sends the priest to him with Sacrament, prayer and consolation. As soon as the priest enters the sick room, he sprinkles the patient, those present, and the room with holy water, while he saysthe following beautiful prayer: “ . . . Almighty Father, Eternal God, vouchsafe to send Thy holy Angel from Heaven to guard, cherish, protect, visit, and defend all that dwell in this house.”

The Church uses holy water very frequently in the numerous blessings and consecrations undertaken by her. The ritual (Handbook of Ecclesiastical Ceremonies) contains a supplement of over a hundred different consecrations and blessings. In almost every case, holy water is applied. After the sign of the cross, holy water is used by the Church more frequently than any other sacramental.

But the Church not alone uses it frequently, but she desires the faithful to do likewise. Therefore she gives the priest unlimited power to bless holy water for the use of the faithful. In many churches it is blessed every Sunday. Further, the Church allows, nay, wishes that Catholics should take holy water to their homes and keep it for private use. In this way the Christian family is enabled to experience the operation of holy water in their souls as often as desired.

Is this observed in your home?

VII. -IMITATION OF OUR HOLY MOTHER, THE CHURCH

THE CATHOLIC CHURCH IS your spiritual mother. Through the Sacrament of holy Baptism she has given you new birth; she nourishes your soul with the Word of God, Christian doctrine, the Sacraments and numerous other means of grace; she leads you with sure hand along the path of life, remains faithfully by you in every situation that occurs, helping you and comforting you at death, and after death she is solicitous for your eternal happiness. Therefore you should cling loyally to this Mother whose prudent judgment and example should be more to you than the superficial talk of Catholics who call themselves “modern,” but who are cold and lacking in fervour in their faith. Sentire cum ecclesia, feel with the Church, judge and act in the spirit of the Church. This is the mark of the true Catholic. In this way, too, you should look upon holy water. The Catholic who regards it with contempt, who is ashamed to use it, who would not wish to be caught with a holy water font in his home, is wanting either in Catholic understanding or in the true Catholic spirit.

In all the things of religion, such as the use of holy water, hold firmly to the golden rule: I will imitate my mother, the Catholic Church.

Then see to it that you always have holy water in your home. This should be a principal concern of the Christian mother, who in the sanctuary of the family holds, as it were, the office of priestess. Have holy water fonts in all the bedrooms and in the living room of your family. Set the good example yourself by frequently making the sign of the cross with holy water. Encourage others in your home to do the same.

Teach your children always to take holy water before going to sleep, and to sprinkle their beds with a few drops; also to bless themselves with it when they rise in the morning and before going to school. Bless your children yourself with holy water, especially your youngest child when you have attended to him in the morning; sprinkle it on his little cot and his clothing, and from time to time place a little in his bath.

When anyone is ill it is essential to have holy water by the bedside. The patient should be encouraged often to bless himself with it. Bless his medicine with it also. One day Blessed Anna Catherine Emmerich when suffering from fever was given a glass of fresh water. Brentano, who rendered her this service, touched the rim of the glass with holy water. As soon as the patient’s lips touched the glass, she felt refreshed and exclaimed: “This is wine-from the garden of the Church.” In her suffering condition this holy woman felt great alleviation in the use of holy water and in the priest’s blessing. In the following chapter you will learn the opinion which St. Teresa held of holy water and its healing power.

From time to time, and at least once a year, you should sprinkle all the rooms in the house with holy water, using a palm branch for the purpose; also cellar, storeroom and granary. Similarly with workshops, stables and barns, machines and cowsheds, garden and fields. Do not think this is a desecration. As we are permitted to pray for all these material things, so too we may invoke God’s protection on them through the sacramentals of the Church. Nor need you have any scruple in putting holy water in the food of sick animals. The Church has herself instituted formulae for blessing with holy water, our food and drink, animals-their food and stables; fields (to protect them from all kinds of noxious insects); machines, telegraph apparatus, railways, wells, furnaces, tile works, and so on. The whole creation is intended for man’s use, to serve his welfare, corporal and spiritual, temporal and eternal. And to this end the Church pronounces her blessing given in God’s Name.

As has been said above, blessing with holy water may be applied to the souls in Purgatory. The Church herself gives us the example which we should follow. It can be done by sprinkling a few drops of holy water with the pious intention of alleviating and refreshing the suffering souls. An easy way of showing that we are thinking of our dear ones and of helping them!

VIII. -HOW ST. TERESA VALUED HOLY WATER

If you wish to inquire the value of some precious jewel or gold ornament, you do not ask the next best man in the street, a hawker or the baker’s boy. You take it to an expert, a jeweller or a goldsmith. Similarly you do not go to ignorant or indifferent Catholics, to the scoffer or the recreant, to inquire the value of the things of religion. In this case, also, you have to go to experts. Where are these to be found? They are God’s saints. These have a true, expert knowledge and large experience of things appertaining to religion. They possess supernatural knowledge, minds rendered keen by faith and a delicate sense of the things of God. These can give us a true idea of the value of holy water, and many have given testimony to its efficacy.

Space does not allow mention of all these here, but we shall give that of St. Teresa, one of the greatest women saints of all times, one in whom were combined perfection in virtue and an extraordinary keenness of intellect and wisdom.

One of St. Teresa’s companions in religion, the reverend Sister Anna of Jesus, relates the following: “Our holy mother (Teresa) never permitted us to travel without holy water. Seeing on several occasions that we had forgotten to take some with us, she had two little gourd bottles fastened to our girdles. It almost always happened that we had to bring one or other to be replenished from hers, while she would remark: “ You do not know how refreshing it feels to be sprinkled with holy water. What an advantage to be able to apply to ourselves so easily the Sacred Blood of Jesus Christ!” Each time that we prayed during the journey we had to take holy water.” (Letters of St. Teresa).

Regarding the power of holy water over Satan, St. Tere sa relates the following from her own experience: “ One time while I was in the oratory, the devil appeared in a horrible shape on my left. While he was speaking to me I noticed his horrible mouth. A large flame of fire, very bright and without shadow, surrounded his body. In a terrible voice he told me I had escaped from his hands, but he would obtain possession of me again. I was terribly afraid, and I made the sign of the cross as well as I could. Then he disappeared, but came back twice. I did not know what to do until at last it occurred to me to sprinkle holy water towards the spot where he stood. He disappeared and did not return.”

On another occasion, during an illness, she was again tormented by the devil, this time in the form of a negro. She relates: “The worst was the restlessness of mind I felt which was so intense that I could not recover peace in any way. I did not wish the sisters to notice what was happening lest they should be frightened, and so I did not venture to ask for holy water. I have often experienced that nothing was so effective as holy water for driving away evil spirits finally. They flee before the cross, but return again. Therefore the power of holy water must indeed be great. I have myself felt an extraordinary consolation when I have used it. It is certain that I have felt a great joy and inner peace which I cannot describe, a joy with which my soul was quite refreshed. This is not merely an effect of the imagination, nor a rare occurrence. I have experienced it frequently and paid special attention to it. On these occasions I feel like one who, suffering intense thirst, takes a glass of water and is quite refreshed. From this we can see how important everything instituted by the Church is; it comforts me to see the great power which her blessing imparts to water, so great is the difference between blessed and unblessed water. As the evil spirit continued to torment me, I told the sisters at length that I should like some holy water, only they must not laugh at me. They brought it and sprinkled me with it, but in vain. Then I sprinkled it in the direction of the hideous black figure and he disappeared immediately.

The saint wrote to her brother who was tormented by great fear that she attributed his suffering to the evil spirit, and she advised him as follows: Always have holy water near you; for there is nothing the devil fears more than this. I have found this remedy of great service to me in many cases when I was tortured, not only by fear, but in other ways. I am telling this to you alone. But unless the holy water reaches him he will not flee; therefore you must sprinkle it around.”

Her brother, asking her to enlighten him further, she wrote back: “I have no other foundation for what I have said regarding the power of holy water except my own experience. I have discussed the matter with learned men and met with no disagreement. For us it is enough that, as they said, the Church sanctions the use of holy water.”

This is the opinion of a true expert concerning the value of holy water and its power. This testimony of the great enlightened saint has its true foundation in the example of the holy Church. St. Teresa merely states what the Catholic Church teaches in her prayers and practice. The Church was St. Teresa’s guide; it should also be ours. We should regard with her eyes all ecclesiastical means of grace, and hence also the sacramentals, which include holy water; we should treasure them with her judgment and love them as she loved them. How happy is the Catholic who always feels that he is a child of the Church, always looking on her as his mother, always in harmony with her views! He will always be preserved from error, doubt and restlessness, and will share abundantly in the graces imparted by the Church.

Let us be even such good and happy children of the Catholic Church. Let us prove this by frequent, devout use of holy water. Once again, let our watchword be: “ I will imitate my mother-the Catholic Church.”

Nihil Obstat:

Carolus Doyle,

Censor Theol. Deput.

Imprimi potest: @ EDUARDUS, Archiep. Dublinen. Hiberniae Primas

DUBLINI, die 6 Septembris, 1933. ********

Home Life

BEING A QUIET TALK TO PARENTS AND CHILDREN WITH SOME ADVICE TO YOUNG PEOPLE CONTEMPLATING MARRIAGE

BY A VINCENTIAN FATHER.

(WITH PERMISSION OF THE SUPERIOR.)

INDEX

“Rejoice not in ungodly children, if they be multiplied neither be delighted in them, if the fear of God be not with them.

Trust not to their life, and respect not their labours. For, better is one that feareth God than a thousand ungodly children. By onethat is wise a country shall be inhabited, the tribe of the ungodly shall become desolate.” (Ecclesiasticus xvi., 1–5.)

INTRODUCTION

THE man who would claim to be satisfied with the present trend of religion in the lives of our people in Australia must either have low standards in that matter., or he must be an incurable optimist. Most, if not all, of the leaders of Catholic thought are gravely perturbed, both with regard to the ever-growing laxity of belief in any definite dogmatic system of Faith and with regard to the consequent decline in moral standards. I say”consequent” decline, because to talk about being moral without being religious is either to expect very little from a person proclaiming to be moral, or to exalt purely natural virtue to the detriment of supernatural virtue. The truth is that Christ Our Lord taught a very definite dogmatic code, and demanded a very definite supernatural moral observance in consequence. With Him, definite beliefs and moral conduct, inspired by grace and observed in co-operation with grace, thus raising it to the supernatural, go hand in hand. Mere natural virtue is not meritorious for heaven.

Now, our country is fast drifting from these standards in both belief and practice. Our people are fast reverting to a more or less educated paganism. Much of the blame for this must fall on the secular system of education under which we live. Of that there can be no doubt. We have had fifty years of experience of it now, and the man who would say that the children of today have anything like the religious faith or the standards of moral conduct that children had fifty years ago would be simply shutting his eyes to plain facts.

The godless system of education is much to blame; but, in ultimate analysis, it will be found that the real blame lies at the door of each generation of parents that has come along since that fatal time in the history of our country, when socalled statesmanship fastened this millstone of secular education round the necks of our people. There can be little doubt that many non-Catholics who hailed that Public Instruction Act with delight, because they saw in it a blow at the Catholic Church, never dreamed of the ill-effects it would have on their own adherents. At that time, people outside the Catholic Church did go to their own religious services in goodly numbers, they did read their Bible, and they did teach their children a definite religion. Today, the attendance at their churches represents only a fraction of their numbers, and the children, in the greater number of cases, learn very, very little about religion in the homes or elsewhere. These will be the parents of the next generation, and any right-minded Catholic shudders to think what will be the state of religion amongst us in another quarter of a century. The ideas that prevail very generally about marriage, divorce, and other delicate matters have entirely destroyed, in the minds of many, the sacramental character of the union between husband and wife. It is all a terrible prospect.

A great observer of modern tendencies in England wrote some years ago: “The careless and even irreligious homes of today are responsible for the falling away from the practice of religiousduties.” It is only too true, and even we Catholics who have so much to be thankful for in the fidelity of our people, have had sad experience of it. It follows as a matter of course that where parents are neglectful, their children will follow, and it is not only religion that suffers, but the whole social fabric is shaken. The family is the foundation of all social order, stability and progress. The home is the first training ground. The man who learns, at the knee of a prudent and holy mother, the lessons of modesty and truth will not usually be likely to employ eloquence, literature, art, etc., in the service of the devil. It is in the family that great saints and great men are formed; examine the lives of such as history records, and you will usually find that they were all blessed with good mothers. It is men such as these that are the bulwarks of social order, so that the saying of the great Leo XIII. is seen to have all the force of truth:”The well-being of individuals and of the community depends chiefly on the family and the home.” It is there the future man and woman are formed, and, if they are to be real Christians in after life, they must spend their earlier years under the elevating and perfecting influence of a holy Catholic home.

Where, then, are we to look for salvation, under God, in the sad tendencies of our day and country? The answer is -we must look to the hearts of good fathers and good mothers. It is parents who can be the regenerators of society, and, in this matter, the call for good Catholic mothers is the most urgent. It may be truly said that the destiny of Australia, as to faith and morals, is in the hands of the present and future mothers.

The duty, therefore, lies heavily on Catholics to keep, first of all before themselves, and then before others, the sacred character of Matrimony. They must ever remember and proclaim the ideals of Christian parenthood-of the dignity of fatherhood, expressed in the same terms as the fatherhood of God; of the glory of motherhood, elevated in Our Lady’s maternity to its pristine glory before the fall of Eve. They must ever remember and proclaim that marriage is a Sacrament, not a mere civil contract-Sacrament by which husband and wife enter into a soul union, similar to the mystical union between Christ and His Church. They must ever remember and proclaim that Christ has made the Christian father the representative of Himself, the Christian mother the representative of her who was chosen from eternity to be the Mother of the Eternal Son of God, and the Christian child a holy and sacred thing-the hope of the Church and of society, the type of everyone that wishes to go to Heaven-for none shall enter there unless they become as”little children.” They must, in this way, create an atmosphere in which mothers are regarded as privileged persons. In short, there unquestionably lies before Catholics the task of promoting once again the ideals of Christian marriage and home life, in the midst of a world that has lost these ideals. A return to the simple, innocent home life of other days will do more to restore religion and morality to our Australian people than all the legislation in the world. The children of today are running wildly after exciting pleasure. They look on home as merely a place in which to eat and sleep-as for their amusements, they seek them away from home, often in very dangerous, even sinful, circumstances, and, in so doing, they are neglecting the real gold of domestic joys for the worthless alloy of worldly excitement. “Back to theHome!”-that must be our slogan.

Let us, therefore, proceed to consider what is necessary in order that this much-to-be-desired state of things may be secured.

I. -THE MODEL HOME OF NAZARETH MUST EVER BE BEFORE OUR EYES. What a home that was! Joseph, Mary, Jesus! The chaste foster-father, the virgin Mother, and the God-man! Perfect Son, perfect Mother, perfect foster-father, else he would not have been chosen. All three were united in the bonds of perfect love-parents, loving one another and their Child; Child, loving with both Divine and human love the parents- full, selfimposed submission of Child to parents, and full authority of parents over Child: “He went down with them, and came to Nazareth, and was subject to them.”

No other home can ever equal this; but this must be ever before us as the model, and parents must strive to reach as near the model as human frailty will permit.

What, after all, is it that makes a real home? Is it a magnificent house, beautiful gardens, rich food, clothing and furniture, every means of enjoyment-even of luxury? Far from it. These things do certainly contribute to exterior attractiveness, but it is not they that really make the home. Even amidst luxurious comforts, and in spite of the most extensive equipment, the true home atmosphere may be painfully absent. On the other hand, the home may be poor, the furniture plain and only what is essential, the food and clothing ordinary, and yet there may be happiness there, for which earth has few rivals. The Holy Home of Nazareth was poor, but the very joy of Heaven was there.

The fact is that what makes the real home is loving care, sweetness of disposition, genial kindness, mutual understanding and sympathy, tolerance of one another’s failings. It is all a question of the right attitude of mind and heart of all the inmates towards each other, regulating all mutual intercourse, and their having a power to transfigure the environment, and invest it with a beauty and magic which, of itself, it does not possess. In such a home parents and children love to be with one another, poor though their surroundings be, because their hearts are in tune. How often one sees the contrary in richer homes! The members of the family have no pleasure in one another, because the bond of love is not there.

The nearer the home approaches to that of Nazareth, the more perfect it is as a home. To ensure this there must be certain relations between husband and wife, between parents and children, and between the children themselves. These relations arise only when each one does what duty demands. Let us examine in detail.

11.-THE DUTIES OF PARENTS

Before going on to discuss these, it is necessary to lay down the fundamental principle that the very essence of Christian marriage is sacrifice. The very wedding ceremony is a declaration of the sacrifice of individual liberty, and the surrendering of sacred rights to one another. Conjugal life, to be Christian at all, must rest on self-denial in order to rise to devotedness, because human beings devote themselves to others only in the measure that they renounce themselves. Hence, even before married persons are blessed with children, occasions for self-renunciation will arise. Once children come, the need for such a spirit is increased. In the light of this, what are the duties of husband and wife between themselves?

(A) .-HUSBANDS AND WIVES

Scripture, which is God’s Word, says: “Husbands, love your wives, as Christ also loved the Church and delivered Himself up for it,” and “Wives, be subject to your husbands, as it behooveth in the Lord.” Observe the note of sacrifice in each case-the husband must have for his model in loving his wife the love Christ had for His Church; but Christ delivered Himself up, out of that great love of His-He sacrificed Himself. Even so must the husband sacrifice himself, that he may ever be faithful to the wife of his choice, and may labour to support her: The love he bears her will be ever the motive power for this sacrifice, and we must always remember that, when we speak of love in this connection, we mean that queen of all the virtues-supernatural love, transforming mere natural love into the sublime. The wife, on her part, must be subject to her husband, and this means sacrifice. This, however, does not mean a servile subjection, as in the older, rougher days of the world, but simply a recognition of the Divine plan that man is the head of the family. By giving this submission in the Christian sense, the wife will naturally gain a gentle sway over her husband, so that, while he reigns as king, she reigns as queen. The husband will see in his partner a consecrated and sanctified being belonging to God, and, hence, his relations with her will always reveal esteem, reserve, modesty, gentleness, considerateness-all springing from Christian love. All this will the true woman win, if she is submissive in the sense indicated, and if she ever remembers that the keynote of the life of married woman is devotedness, which, animated by faith and sustained by courage, will enable her to rise to the heights of heroism. All true Catholic mothers are veritable heroines.

This fundamental spirit of self-sacrifice will find a call for its expression in the forbearance that married life will inevitably demand. Before marriage, it is often true that each saw in the other a paragon of excellence. When they begin to live together, the usual story is one of disillusionment to some extent at least. The mind that seemed so bright before is not quite so bright as it seemed, the heart is not quite so tender, the character reveals unexpected roughnesses. Here is need for forbearance on the part of each towards the other.

Cares and anxieties arise, sometimes poverty comes, not rarely sickness rears its ugly head. Tempers become frayed, and there is constant need for mutual forbearance.

It is in these circumstances that the need is felt of that grace which the Sacrament of Matrimony gives, and, when Catholics seek ever more grace in their religious observances, they become strong to bear with one another; they strive to be always meek and indulgent towards each other, readily yielding to one another where no principle is involved; they strive to minimise and make allowance for each other’s defects; they eschew fault-finding; they fix their gaze on the good points of one another, rather than on their defects. As a consequence, they gradually conceive a greater, and yet greater, esteem for each other, without which no love can stand the strain of the years-an esteem that arises from the conviction that each one really meant to practise self-sacrifice when they took one another”for worse” as well as”forbetter.” So much for husband and wife-now for

(B) .—PARENTS TOWARDS CHILDREN

No marriage is complete without children. Sometimes God denies them to married people who long intensely for them. It is through no fault of their own that they are childless, and, if they are truly Catholic, they strive by increased love to make up to one another for the disappointment each must feel. It is especially as age advances that they feel their deprivation, and, like the true Catholics that they are, they seek to grow nearer to God and dearer to one another in Him.

Usually; however, God does bless parents with children, and happy indeed are those parents who welcome each little stranger as it comes along, glad to see their little world peopled by those who will carry on their name. Children are the gift of God. As Scripture says:”The inheritance of the Lord are children.” He wants them for His kingdom hereafter, and those parents that obediently do His Will He blesses in many ways. Experience constantly proves that the largest families are the happiest, and the parents of such are the most contented.

True, each little arrival means mo re pain and toil, but God’s grace is there to sweeten all, and the affection of each child has a character all its own. Moreover, the bond of union between husband and wife grows all the stronger, if they, with brave Catholic spirit, fight their difficulties and win their victories together. Each child furnishes a new object in life, it spurs to industry and frugality in temporal concerns, and to greater earnestness in spiritual matters. In every way each child is a blessing from God.

Presupposing, then, that, as true Catholics, the married couple welcomes all the children God sends, let us see what are the duties of parents towards their offspring.

There are some general principles to be enunciated before one descends to details.

First of all, then, let it be taken for certain that no family can be really happy unless children are brought up “in the fear and admonition of the Lord.” Religion is the very basis of true family life. It refines, elevates and ennobles human life and character. A father drops the sceptre from his hands when he drops religion in belief or in practice. Much more so does the mother fall from her pedestal, on which she should be enthroned as queen, if she grows careless where religion is concerned. The religious mother is the angel of the family; she is the”valiant woman” of the Bible,”whose praise is from the uttermost coasts.” Her power over both her husband and her children is immeasurable, because she stands for all those qualities that command influence over others-viz., love, tenderness, devotion, mercy, sacrifice.

On the other hand, the woman without religion is a poor support for husband or child-she is but a frail and broken reed. Mothers there are who think they do enough for their families when they provide them with food, clothing, lodging, and care in sickness-they allow their children to mix with whom they choose-they send them to godless schools because of some imaginary temporal advantage: as a result, these children grow up with little faith-they know not the refining, chastening influence of religious practice, and they often have but little respect for home or parents, looking on home as a place of restraint from which they long to be free, and which they desert as soon as opportunity comes. Home for them has not the divine spirit and sacred charm it should have. As for themselves, they have little sense of responsibility because they have no moral balance, no divine law to guide them, and hence they are creatures of mere impulse, or of passion, or of slavish imitation of others, be the example good or bad. A home without religion is not a home at all. The second general principle emphasises the need in which the soul of a child stands of cultivation and guidance, and it is in the home this must begin-yes, and not only begin, but be continued even when school and church are called in to do their share in the training of the child. The home is the place where the first and most lasting impressions are made, and where are acquired many of the principles and habits that will endure through life. In modern family life there is need of more attention to home education. The complexities of modern life have destroyed to a great extent the sweet simplicity of home. The unrest of the world outside has invaded the peaceful sanctuary of the family, and brought in the contentions, the discussions, and the alarms of that world.

Nothing will restore the home to its pristine purity but the ideal of home enshrined in the teachings of the Catholic Church-viz., parental authority, filial obedience, and family discipline. The father, or mother, who fails in this home training of the children will come under that scathing denunciation of St. Peter:”If anyone hath not care of his own household, he has denied the Faith, and is worse than an infidel.”

It hardly needs saying that Catholic parents should give saints’ names to their children at baptism, or that children should be baptized as soon as ever it is possible. Furthermore, god-parents must remember that they assume a serious responsibility with regard to the children for whom they stand.

With these two cardinal principles, we will now proceed to see what Scripture has to say concerning the principal duties of parents towards their offspring.

(I) Watch over them and care for them :-”Beware of thy own children, and take heed of them of thy household.”

(2) Instruct them :-”Lay up these my words in your hearts and minds. Teach your children, that they may meditate on them.”

(3) Correct them :-”The rod and reproof give wisdom; but the child, that is left to his own will, bringeth his mother to shame.”

(4) Bring them up in the fear of the Lord, and in obedience to His laws :-”You, fathers, provoke not your children to anger, but bring them up in the discipline and correction of the Lord.”

In those four texts you have a practical summary of what our duty demands. It might seem strange that I do not add any texts bidding you always pray for them to your last breath, and always give them good example; but, is it necessary to do this? You are bidden to be watchful, to see that they do right and avoid wrong; you are bidden to instruct them in what is right and wrong you are bidden to correct them, if they do wrong; you are bidden in general tobring them up in God’s fear, so as to do right and avoid wrong.

Now, what parent that loves the children can fail to see that he, or she, is evidently bound to pray for them that all this vigilance, instruction and correction may be effectual? Again, what parent is there that does not see that to instruct and correct children while at the same time doing wrong himself is to destroy the value of his words? Yes, watch, instruct, correct, pray for, and give good example to your children.

I might end with that, but let me say a word about what may be called the”foolish fondness” of many parents, which in reality is not real fondness at all. Twenty-five years of teaching experience gave us plenty of opportunity to observe instances of the harm done by this. Some parents pamper their children; they yield to their every whim, they cross them in nothing, they shrink from correcting them, and they become annoyed if the teachers in school correct them. This is not real love at all, and the day usually comes when such spoiled children prove a cross to their parents, and sometimes they even blame them bitterly for having neglected them.

You must not leave all the ugly work of correction to the school and the church. Both these places can do much, but, if there is no proper discipline in the home, much of the good done in those two places will be spoiled. Besides, you must remember that it is on you God imposes the duty of training your children for Him-the school is only your helper.

To make more detailed all that has been said under this heading, I will present the case again in another way, following the teaching of a great instructor of youth. He says that, in a true Catholic home, there should be found four things-viz., Order, Industry, Vigilance and Piety.

(I) Order.-Some parents allow children to go as they please. They are untidy, unpunctual, their speech is flabby, often full of “slang,” etc., and older ones are allowed to come and go as they wish, keeping late hours at night. That is a poor training. Home happiness can be sadly interfered with in that way. How unlike such a home must be to the Holy Home of Nazareth!

(2) Industry.-In a real home there ought to be no laziness, either on the part of parents or children. The house and all around it should be kept clean and tidy, even though it be a poor home, and the children should be obliged to do their share, according to their age and ability, not for some reward the parents might give, but because it is pleasing to God. Teach them that-viz., to obey because it is God’s Will. Work is good for everyone, and to keep children well occupied is the secret of their present happiness and of their future proud memories of home, as well as a training that will save them from much danger in after life. Lazy homes are a poor imitation of the industrious Home of Nazareth.

(3) Vigilance.-Parents must be ever on the watch to correct wrong tendencies in their children, and this watchfulness should begin even in the infant days of a child. The youngest infant soon begins to show its disposition, and it is a great mistake to put off correction till the child is older, on the plea that it is only an infant. Parents cannot too soon make it clear who is in authority, and they can, and should, begin to manifest that even to an infant. It will be much easier to assert authority over an older child, and even over a grown young man or woman, if the lesson of the authority of parents is clear from the beginning. They must watch, too, to remove danger from their children. They should know where the children go, who are their companions, how they spend their recreation, what they read, etc. Indeed, if you really want to know your child’s disposition, watch him when he is at his games. There is no place where the bully, the cheat, the selfish child reveals himself more than when amongst companions of his own age. They must watch, too, to see that children say their prayers, go to Mass and the Sacraments, etc. School prayers can never take the place of prayers said by the side of the parents, and with them. Finally, they must seize every opportunity to study the dispositions of their children, and not be surprised if they detect evil tendencies. It is a mistake for a parent to believe that”all his geese are swans.”

All this is true, while the children are young and until the time comes for them to leave school to go to work. During those school days parents have great need to be watchful both over themselves and their children, lest, out of false fondness, they cripple the efforts of the teachers. It is no uncommon thing, in schools, for children to become critical of their teachers, and develop a spirit that is wanting in reverence. Parents must ever remember that these teachers hold the place of themselves during the hours children are under their care, and Catholic parents can never be grateful enough that there are men and women who sacrifice all to care for the children of others. Some children constantly bring home complaints, and parents always side openly with them in these differences with their teachers. We do not say that teachers never make mistakes. They do, and some complaints are justified, but a parent is unwise who lets his child see that he has to condemn the actions of a teacher. He should see the Superior privately, and, if he voices his complaint in a reasonable way, he will usually get full satisfaction. To weaken the authority of a teacher in the child’s eyes is to stultify the parent’s own efforts for the good of his child.

So much for school days. When these are over, the parent’s vigilance should become all the greater. The young people are now going out into a world of danger, and the parent must watch even more carefully now over the company, the reading, the employment of leisure hours, and the practice of religious duties.

Young girls especially will require careful supervision at this age. It will be well to note the ideas these young people give out in the course of conversation in the home. A wise parent will draw them out, giving them an opportunity to express their views. There is no other way of arriving at an estimate of the young mind. This becomes all the more urgent when the growing boys and girls begin to mingle with the other sex. At this stage it falls principally to the parent to give prudent advice on sex matters; but, it must be prudent advice. Not every parent is capable of this, and it would be well to consult the priest. Catholics are fortunate in having the confessional, and, if parents see that their children are regular at confession, they will be saved from anxiety in this matter. This is where the value of parish sodalities, such as the Sacred Heart Sodality, comes in, keeping the young people regularly at the Sacraments.

Parents should be especially decided about company-keeping. They should show a very firm front, if there is question of non-Catholic association of any kind; but, whether the company be Catholic or non-Catholic, they should instil into the minds of their boys the highest respect for woman-kind, teaching them to treat every girl as they would demand that their own sisters be treated. On their girls they should impress a deep sense of the dignity of womanhood, as sisters of the Blessed Virgin.

When one of the children has reached the stage of being engaged to be married, parents should endeavour to shield him, or her, from danger, and warn against any familiarities in the absence of parents which would not be allowed if parents were present. Both girls and boys must be taught, but girls particularly so, that they must always be modest in their relations with the person to whom they are engaged, so as to secure that they in turn will be treated by that person with respect and reverence.

To help in all this, parents should encourage the young people to bring their friends to the home, and they should not allow, without vigorous protest, any lonely walks, joy rides, or company-keeping in general in lonely places. The home should ever be made attractive, so that the young people will be glad to spend their time there, and not seek for their company and enjoyment elsewhere.

Finally, parents should teach their grown-up children the sacred idea of marriage, showing them that it is a divine vocation every sense of the word.

To sum up this question of vigilance, with its concomitant of correction-it all amounts to this:-The parents must assert their authority even from the infant days of their children, and having secured it, they must never let it go at any stage of life; otherwise, their children will become too independent, going their own way, and that is what lies at the root of most of the evils of today. That is why home life has lost so much of its sacred character, and has departed so far from the ideals of the Holy Home of Nazareth.

(4) Piety-This concludes the list of qualities which, in the mind of a great teacher, should be found in every true home-Order, Industry, Vigilance and Piety.

Just here comes in the element of example. Parents must themselves be good, practical Catholics. They must pray in the morning and evening themselves; they must be regular at Mass and the Sacraments. As for prayer, it would be advisable that at least the night prayers, but, if not all these prayers, certainly the Rosary, should be said in common. How can a parent reasonably expect his children to be pious Catholics if they never see their parents at prayer, if they see them on occasions miss Mass without a good reason, if they seldom see them at the altar rails? See to it, you parents,. that the children say their prayers regularly; make them say their grace before and after meals; in every way foster the spirit of piety. Have the crucifix and Catholic emblems (pictures or statues) in at least the living rooms of the home; always keep holy water in the house. In every possible way, make the life of the home Catholic, without being unduly exacting, so that to live a Catholic life becomes as ordinary a part of daily routine as eating, sleeping, etc.

Here again the question of reading comes in. We have said that parents should not allow in their homes any reading that could be dangerous. For this reason they must keep a close eye on the papers and books the children bring into the house: but this is not enough. Young people will read in these days. See to it, then, that you bring a Catholic paper into the house every week. Read it yourselves, discuss it at table, etc., so as to gently lead the children to become interested in it. Bring also good Catholic books into the house-books of a nature to excite their interest. As for lighter reading, it would be unreasonable to expect that there would be none of this. In fact, with most young people, this will be their principal reading, at any rate till they reach a more serious, thoughtful age in life. It were, of course, to be desired that there wer e less of it, and more of serious reading, but we must take young people as we find them. Now, there is very grave danger in much of the light literature of today. All sorts of wrong ideas, both of faith and moral practice, are to be found skilfully and insidiously put forward by, the modern novelist and essayist. The average parent cannot be expected to read through all the books his children want to read, nor can he be expected to know what authors are safe and what are not. That would require study for which he has not time. Consequently, Catholic parents should gratefully make use of Catholic libraries, making their children become members of them, so that the works of fiction that come into the home may be safe and healthy. Some parishes have their own library also; here is another safe source on which to draw.

There, now, is a very comprehensive study of the duties of parents to their children. If they faithfully perform them, there is every hope that their homes will be homes of peace, like that of Nazareth. There will be no disunion in the home; the parents will be united with one another and with their children; the children will be devoted and obedient to their parents, and affectionate with each other. They will look up to father and mother as the most wonderful people in the world for them; they will be gentle, kind, forbearing with their brothers and sisters. The little differences that will inevitably arise will not be kept up. Tempers will be controlled. As a help to this, the rule given by a celebrated Bishop is not out of place-viz.,”Teach children to be polite to brothers and sisters as though they werestrangers”

Now, all this will require great tact and patience on the part of parents. It will require that they be constantly selfrestrained themselves, never quarrelling, never bullying, never speaking an unkindly or unseemly word. Especially must they hold themselves in firm control when correction becomes necessary-correction which, in the case of younger children, may demand actual punishment. It is a safe rule never to correct in anger.

Finally, all this requires the grace of God. Call, then, the Divine Master to preside over your homes. Frequently invoke the aid of Mary and Joseph for guidance, so that you may make your home like that of Nazareth. As the Sacred Heart Sodality is such a feature of our parish life in many parishes, let every one of you see that your home is consecrated to the Sacred Heart.

Before concluding this long section of advice to parents, let us give here some few practical counsels, which long years of teaching experience have shown us to be of great importance in the bringing up of the young.

CONCLUDING PRACTICAL ADVICE

(I) Never give hasty or ill-considered commands; once having commanded after deliberation, insist on obedience. (2) Never threaten unless you are in a position to carry out your threat should necessity arise.

(3) Let there be no divided authority between parents. It is fatal for one parent to go against the other in such a way as that the children know of the division.

(4) Let there be no divided authority between the parents and the school teachers. Settle any differences privately be tween yourselves and the teachers, but do not let the children know.

(5) Never punish in anger, and, if you must punish, let there be due proportion between the fault and. the punishment.

To punish as much for the breaking of a cup as for telling a lie is out of all proportion.

(6) Don’t let foolish fondness lead you to give in to every whim of a child. If you give in once to coaxing, you will find it harder to refuse next time. Remember that, in later years, well-disciplined children will bless their parents for having checked them, whilst, on the other hand, pampered children will only blame parents for their weakness. (7) Show no favouritism to one child over the other. Envy and jealousy can ruin the happiness of homes. Be just to all, and you may be as firm as you like.

(8) Finally, never stand in the way of a child’s vocation. This is further referred to at the end of this pamphlet. Now we proceed to the question of the children and their relations with parents and with one another.

III.-THE DUTIES OF CHILDREN

(A) .-TOWARDS THEIR PARENTS

The law respecting children and their relations with those who bore them is as old as man himself. It is the Natural Law, written at first on the hearts of men, later promulgated by God through Moses and written on the second of the Tables of Stone, finally confirmed by Jesus Christ, our Saviour. We find it in the old familiar Fourth Commandment: “Honour thy father and thy mother!” That word “honour” embraces all-love, respect, obedience, support in life and death, and help even beyond the grave, if help be necessary.

We are all children. With many of us our parents are long since dead, but our duty towards them does not end till we ourselves die. They may yet be lingering in purgatorial pain, and it is our duty all through our lives to pray for them. Scripture tells us:”It is a holy and a wholesome thought to pray for the dead, that they may be loosed from their sins.” If this is true of the dead in general, as, of course, it is, how much more so is it with regard to those to whom we owe our being, under God? Let us, then, never forget them in our prayers. Above all, let us use the Mass, in which Jesus Christ Himself prays with us for them. If we can, let us have Masses said for their intention, and, if we cannot do that, let us hear all the Masses we can.

Many children still have their parents with them, and of these, many still live under the parental roof, whilst others have left home, either as single men or women to work their way in the world, or as married people with homes of their own. There is a common, almost a universal, notion that, when once one has reached the age of 21, the authority of parents ceases. This is quite a mistake. As a matter of fact, there is no age limit in the matter. Our Lord did not cease His voluntary subjection when He reached the age of 21. Parents have responsibility for their children while ever life lasts for those parents. True, they cannot exercise that authority in the same way, or to the same extent, over grown-up children as they could over younger ones; but they are always bound to give them good example and to pray for them. They are also always bound to give prudent advice, and, consequently, there is always a duty for children, no matter what their age, to respect that advice.

Sacred Scripture abounds in instructions for children. We select here but a few directions, but they really cover all. Thus we read:- “My son, hear the instruction of thy father, and forsake not the law of thy mother, that grace may be added to thy head.”

“Hearken to thy father that begot thee, and despise not thy mother when she is old.”

“Honour thy father, and forget not the groanings of thy mother. Remember that thou hadst not been born but through them, and make a return to them, as they have done for thee.”

“He that feareth the Lord honoureth his parents,and will serve them as his masters, that brought him into the world.”

“Children, obey thy parents in the Lord; for this is just.”

An examination of those texts will supply all that is needed for the guidance of children. Under the influence of true Christian love they must always “obey the Lord” those who”brought them into the world,” and without whom, under God, they “would not have been born.” For,”this is just.” It is eminently just that obedience, yes and love and honour too, be given to them. It is not only that through them life has been given to children, but they have done much, and suffered much, in the spirit of sacrifice, to feed, clothe, succour in sickness, and educate their offspring, so that justice, demands that these children”make a return to them” for all their gifts and sufferings.

Furthermore, it is essential that heed be given to their advice: “Hear the instruction of thy father, and forsake not the law of thy mother-hearken to thy father that begot thee, and despise not thy mother.” To this is added the telling words: “When she is old.” Children should always be guided by the prudent advice of their parents, and it is important to note that, even when they are old, their advice is of much worth. Indeed, it can be said that, until, through age they sometimes pass into a second childhood, simply because they are old, their advice in matters of conduct is all the more valuable. They may not have had the same advantages in education in their day as children have in our times, but it is a sad mistake to dismiss them as being “out of date,” “behind the times,” and knowing nothing of modern conditions. Moral conduct and true religious belief never grow out of date, and these parents of ours have been taught in the stern school of the world’s experience. They know where dangers lie for the young, perhaps from their own sad experience, and they burn with a loving desire to shield their children from them. In God’s name, young people, do not be carried away by the false spirit of independence which has seized upon so many of your companions today. This is the cause of most of the evils we see around us. Many parents of the present generation were not dutiful children to their own parents, and now they do not receive respect and obedience from their own children. Scripture tells us:”He that honoureth his father shall have joy in his own children,” and the reverse is too sadly true-viz., that he who did not honour his parents will receive little joy when he himself is a parent.

I return for a moment to aged parents, and especially to the dear old mothers. When one sees a frail, wrinkled, whiteheaded, old Catholic mother, who gave all the best of her life to the rearing of-a goodly-sized family for God, one feels inclined to bow down in reverence, and it is often very saddening—to see the worn old face bedewed with tears because some child of hers has not continued to tread the safe path on which the good mother in earlier days set the infant footsteps. The old mother is ever turning towards the wanderer with one eye, and towards God with the other, uttering ever some such prayer as is contained in the following simple lines:—“Child of my heart! If you only knew,—How, in childhood’s days, I watched over you, How, silent I stole to your bedside each night, And prayed that God would guide you aright.

“Child of my heart! As the days passed along—Your life and mine were all joy and song. Your life was twined about by my love, And your love for me was heaven above.

“Child of my heart! Those days are passed For, days so sweet were too good to last. The world to your mind seemed fairer than home, And, so, memory and I are left all alone.

“Child of my heart! How many the years,

Since you bade me “Good-bye” mid sorrow and tears! How many the years! “Tis a score or more,

Since you left me alone at the old home door.—“Child of my heart! Since that terrible day.

How oft to your bedside I silently stray,—And pray that your steps may turn homeward some day, And joy will be mine ere I pass away!—“Child of my heart! 1t will not be long

Ere my voice and my prayer shall be silent and gone: But, while they are with me, God grant it to me That both may be offered and calling for thee.”

Children, children, be you young or old, give of your best, your very best, always to the father and mother to whom you owe so much.

(B).-TOWARDS ONE ANOTHER

We often see the beautiful text of Scripture: “How good and pleasing a thing it is for brethren to dwell together in union!” It is constantly applied to religious communities; but has it not also a special reference to the members of a family?

We have pointed out that parents should teach their children to be patient with one another, and, if small quarrels arise, to cultivate the spirit of forgiveness. We have said, further, they should teach them to overlook one another’s faults, to be kind to each other in word and act, to overcome selfishness, and be thoughtful for one another.

Now, in urging them to teach these things, the corresponding obligation lies on the children to learn these lessons and put them into practice.

If only children would do this, how much happier life at home would be today! The fact is that there has been a sad falling off in these matters, with the result that, in many cases, there is little or no real home life at all, as it used to be.

Circumstances helped much in other days. There were few attractions outside of the home, especially at nighttime. There were no picture shows, affording cheap entertainment, and it was but seldom that people could afford the means to go to the theatre. Money was not so plentiful as it afterwards became, till the present depression gave a setback to things. There were fewer avenues for employment for girls, and the wages given to boys and young men were much less than agitation afterwards made them.

The result was that young people were more or less forced to make their enjoyment in the home. What more beautiful picture than to see the younger children of those days enjoying some innocent game in the presence of their parents, when their school work for the next day was done? What more beautiful picture than to see the older children, who had passed from school life, reading some healthy book, or discussing some question with the parents, or engaged in an innocent game of cards, etc.? Later on, the Rosary was said in common, all had their supper, and the younger ones went early to rest, whilst even the older ones were glad to retire before the late hours.

Sometimes an outing of some kind was promised for some approaching evening, or some friends were invited to the home for a social evening. It was not often, and, consequently, all looked forward to the joyous occasion, deriving much pleasure from the anticipation of it and preparation for it. The night came and all enjoyed the simple, innocent pleasure afforded. For weeks afterwards there was new joy in recalling the incidents or in planning for a repetition.

Those were halcyon days, and the members of a family grew up together, sharing one another’s joys and sorrows; they learned to love one another intensely, and the success of one was the joy of all:

“They grew in beauty side by side,

They filled one home with glee.”

How sadly different we often find things in the homes of today! Children are all the time hankering to get out into the streets or to some show; they look on home as a place of restraint-a place in which they remain only long enough to eat and sleep, and-shall I add? to growl. It is sad to see young people who can be like distilled sunshine amongst acquaintances and friends, and yet”like bears with sore heads” in their own homes.

“We have greetings for the stranger,

And smiles for the sometime guest;

But for our own the bitter tone,

Though we love our own the best.”

We certainly should reserve our best for those of our own home; but this is a digression. We said that children today often look on home only as a place of restraint, and they are ever looking to the outside world for excitement. Home seems too dull for them. They have no appreciation of the simple, beautiful joys of loving intercourse with their parents, their brothers and sisters; and they have not this appreciation because they are misled by the wild, exciting joys of the outside world. They hear their companions, talking of the “good time” they had last night at this show or that, with such and such companions, etc.,—and there is often a clash of the risky or sinful in what is spoken about. They themselves had to stay at home, and they had a dull time. Why? Because they had never learned the real joy of true family intercourse. Mind, it is often the parents who are to blame for this, because they do nothing to make home happy and attractive. The father may be often out of temper and quarrelsome; the mother may be often fretful and complaining, blocking the children in every innocent amusement. You hear the eternal cry: “Tommy, don’t do that!” And when Tommy answers: “Please, Mum, I didn’t do it,” the answer is: “Well, don’t do it again!” Parents can’t expect children to be like grown-up people. They must make a noise, they must be making fun or doing mischievous things, and parents should learn to be children with their children, while, of course, always keeping things within bounds.

Oh! if only all our homes were real homes, what a difference it would make! Children would love to be most of their time at home; they would not be always wanting to be out of doors; and thus they would be saved from many of the temptations that lead them into bad ways, which gradually become bad habits, leading in the end to sorrow for the parents, and oftentimes to disgrace for the family,

Boys and girls, do try to live your lives principally in the home. Do try to bring back the simple joys of home life and you will be doing more for the future good of Australia than all the politicians and all the laws they send out from Parliament House. Be happy with your own brothers and sisters. Let there be no quarrelling, no fault-finding,—and, if little disputes do arise, don’t keep them up. Be kind to one another. Be thoughtful and unselfish, looking out for ways to give joy to the others. Above all, look up to your parents as the greatest man and woman in the world for you. Learn the joy of helping your mother in her endless household work. There is no joy like that of giving joy, and the child that gladdens its mother will know a deeper happiness in a word of praise from father or mother than the most exciting pleasure outside in the world can give. Be devout Catholics always, ever faithful to prayer, Mass, and the Sacraments, even if, perhaps, father or mother—is careless. If you continue in the home the religious training you received in the school and the church, you will one day have the happiness of seeing your father return to his religious duties. Perhaps father is not a Catholic at all. If you always pray for him, and always give him the example of what a Catholic boy or girl really means, you may one day have the unspeakable happiness of seeing him become a Catholic. We can speak from experience of this. We knew a home dear to us where the father was not a Catholic, and can assure you that amongst the happiest days life has ever given to the children of that home was the day when their father was at last received into the Church.

It is here that your parish sodality comes in. It may be the Sacred Heart Sodality, the Holy Name Sodality, or the Sodality of the Holy Family. It matters not which. If you are a faithful member of it, it will keep you regularly to your monthly Confession and Communion. That is what it is for; you may go to Communion as often as you like-indeed, the oftener the better-but always let one of those Communions be with all the other young men or young women of the parish; The example will help your parents and others.

If you cling to this, you cannot help becoming more patient and more kind in the home. You will be an enemy of all that could disturb the peace of the home-you will be an enemy to all uncharitable talk or action, in short, you will be happy yourselves and you will make the other members of the family happy, and home will be really a home, even if it be poor, as was the Holy Home of Nazareth.

In conclusion, let us make one special appeal to you. It is this: if, on reading this, you find you are out of harmony with your parents, or with one of your brothers and sisters, go to them and be reconciled at once. Restore peace, and then cultivate peace by every means in your power.

We suggest here a little prayer that may be helpful:

“Dear Lord, Who didst live home life with Joseph and Mary at Nazareth, giving thus to the world the model of the perfect home, be pleased to bless our home, and the homes of all the Catholic people of this parish.

“Fill the hearts of all the parents with deep, true love for one another and for all their children. Fill the hearts of all the children with deep, true love for their parents and for each other. Remove all differences, reconcile those who are at variance, so that peace may reign in every home.

“Make both parents and children patient in all their trials. Make them look with kindly eye on one another’s faults. Make them kind, unselfish, thoughtful for each other. Above all, dear Lord, remove from the hearts of all the children that spirit of false independence which leads so many to slight the wise advice of those over them. Make them obedient at all times, and fill their hearts with respect and love for their father and mother and for one another.

“Deign also, dear Lord, to extend this blessing to every home, Catholic or otherwise, in our country. Give us back the simple, happy home life of other days, and thus save our country from the spiritual ruin to which it is hastening. Amen.

IV. -ADVICE TO YOUNG PEOPLE CONTEMPLATING MARRIAGE. All that has been said serves to bring into bold relief the beautiful ideas of the Catholic Church regarding home life. It is not out of place, therefore, to say a few words at the end of this pamphlet to young people who are not yet married, but who one day will be, and who are, perhaps, at this moment contemplating taking that important step.

The first point -the one on which all the rest depends is that young people should conceive a very high idea of their own dignity, and that of a person of the opposite sex. Every human being is created by God, and endowed with very lofty prerogatives. Scripture says of man:”Thou hast made him a little less than the angels; Thou hast crowned him with glory and honour”; indeed, God has made us to His own”image and likeness.” Every human being was redeemed by Jesus Christ, the Second Person of the Blessed Trinity made man. Hear the Scriptures again:”You were not redeemed with corruptible things, as gold and silver, but with the Precious Blood of Christ, as of a Lamb unspotted and undefiled.” Every human being should be baptized, and, if it is, then in Baptism it was sanctified by the Holy Ghost. Once again Scripture speaks:”Know you not that you are the temple of God, and that the spirit of God dwelleth in you?” And what adds to this in the case of us Catholics is that we are so often united with Christ in the Blessed Eucharist, so that He actually dwells in us and we in Him: “He that eateth My flesh and drinketh My blood abideth in Me and 1 in him.”

Finally, every human being was destined by God to be a bright spirit in His heavenly home, and if that design is frustrated in some cases it is entirely the fault of the individual. St. John says to us:”Dearly beloved, we are now the sons of God, and it hath not yet appeared what we shall be.-We know that, when He shall appear, we shall be like to Him, because we shall see Him as He is.”

What a wonderful dignity, therefore, resides in a human being! If we always remembered that, how differently we would act! Young men, and young women, should always be mindful of that in their relations with one another, respecting each their own dignity, which they share with all the human race. Added to this, the young man should remember that God has ordained that man should be the head of the family. If, then, he is keeping company with a girl with a view to matrimony, it is his duty, during that preparatory time, to act always towards her in such a way as will give her valid reason to hope that he will be a fitting head of their future home. He should always hold her in reverence, never seeking any undue familiarity, and protecting her, even against herself, should she at times be weak. The young woman, too, should remember that she is, in one sense, a sister of the Blessed Virgin, while, in another sense, she shares with all the human race in being a child of hers by adoption, and by the special gift of Christ from the Cross.

During that dangerous time of courtship, when Human Nature is so liable to be stirred, the young man should adopt it as a rule to always treat his future partner as he would demand that any other young man would treat his own sister; the young woman should ever be mindful of her dignity as sister of Mary, and by her own modesty and reserve, help the young man to treat her with that reverence she has a right to demand. Both young people should make the matter of their proposed marriage a subject of constant prayer. They should, moreover, take their parents into their confidence and seek guidance from them. The courtship should never be conducted in lonely places, but in the homes of their parents, and there should be no familiarities which they would be ashamed for those parents to see.

We know that many young people of today will shrug their shoulders and smile a cynical smile as they read this, while the thought will be in their minds, even if it is not expressed:”Old fashioned! Out of date! Not done in these times!”

Well, the fact that you do not agree, young friend, does not alter the wisdom of the advice. It is a very good thing to be old-fashioned in some matters, and you can believe us when we say that if you observe these recommendations, you will have reason to bless your obedience some day; whereas, if you neglect it, the time will come when you will bitterly regret your false independence. Holy marriages are not built on ungoverned conduct before marriage.

In all this, I have naturally been taking it for granted that the young people keeping company are both Catholics. Here again, I can see, in fancy, many young people giving that contemptuous shrug of the shoulders, smiling that would-be superior cynical smile, and uttering those scathing words:”Out of date!” The young mind of today is saturated by the foolish drivel that is to be found in the popular novel, and is represented in so many scenes of the cinema-viz., that somewhere in all the world there awaits each one his soul’s mate, quite irrespective of differences of Religion, or of incompatibility in other ways. A pretty mess this nonsense has made of many marriages in modern times! The Divorce Courts are working overtime, and there are countless unhappy marriages that are never brought into the light of publicity, all because young people will not be guided in this matter by their parents and others interested in their welfare.

It is inevitable that young people of different Religions will meet one another in a country like ours, where so much division exists; but a young Catholic who is wise will take care not to let the affections be entangled in the beginning, and thus will easily avoid the snares into which others fall. Fulness of union can never be where there is disunion about the vital matter of life-viz., Religion.

If, however, Catholic young people will persist in going their own way, and, in consequence, find themselves caught in the toils, it is well for them to be reminded of what the Church demands in this matter. She will not allow the marriage to be celebrated before a priest, unless the promises she requires are given, as she ordains. These promises are:- (I) “That the nonCatholic party will not interfere with the Catholic party in the practice of his, or her, Religion.” This promise must be signed by the non-Catholic party. (2)”That all children of the marriage must be brought up in the Catholic Faith.” This promise must be signed by both parties. (3)”That the Catholic party will use all possible means to lead the nonCatholic party to see the truth of the Catholic Faith.” This promise need not usually be signed-a verbal undertaking is enough.

Seeing that this is so, it is hard to understand how it is that, in many of these cases, the Catholic never says one word to the other about these matters until they come to make arrangements about the marriage. Sometimes the priest has to tell these facts, and there are unpleasant scenes, giving very bad promise of what the result will be when once the parties are joined together.

Another thing that is often not mentioned between the young people is that, if the marriage is to be a mixed one, it cannot take place before the altar, and the nuptial blessing cannot be given.

Should the non-Catholic party prove obstinate, and the Catholic party be so weak as to yield to the pressure of the other and of the relatives and friends, the Church will not allow a priest to officiate. Then follows marriage outside the Church, and, as sure as the sun shines, there will come a day, perhaps not far distant, when the Catholic will know tortures of conscience, and the happiness of family life will be shattered.

The Church is opposed to mixed marriages; consequently, a young Catholic should be extremely careful when choosing a partner for the holy union of marriage. If young people had been guided by parents and others in this matter in the past, we should not have the sad leakage from the Church which we have had, and the religious outlook for Australia would be much brighter than it is.

We bid you, then, think well before marriage on the dignity and responsibility of Matrimony and its sacred purpose, both of which will serve to impress on you the heavy responsibility you take upon yourselves in entering in the married state. Dismiss once and for all the notion that marriage is all a beautiful romance. The nonsense of the modern novelist about”being happy ever after” does not often stand the test of life. Marriage is a solemn, life-long obligation, founded on the spirit of mutual sacrifice, and, therefore, even common prudence would demand that young people should ponder well and long on the suitability of their partner; they should pray much for guidance, and they should be only too grateful to parents, and to others interested in them, for their advice, which is the result of long years of knowledge of life.

A final word to young men and to parents:—To young men:-There is nothing more common in these days of depression than to hear people say: “What a fool I was!” They look back on other days when money came easily to them, and they see that, if they had been in any way careful, they could have a fairly solid sum of money behind them today, whereas they have nothing. When they examine where the money has gone, they find that one channel through which it flowed was the entertainment of girls whom they never had any intention to marry. It was the fashion of young men to have what they called a “good time,” and they allowed themselves to be carried away by the talk and the doings of companions. Now they see that they were foolish, even in a worldly sense. As for the spiritual point of view, they now have many regrets. Yes, they were doubly foolish. That silly philandering has led them nowhere. Girls were only too ready to take all they could get from their “boy friend.” It is to be hoped the young people of these days will learn the lesson. Young men should find their companionship amongst young men, and their amusement in healthy, manly sport. It is time enough to begin the other thing when they are in a position to be serious about it, and intend to be serious. “Old-fashioned” again? Yes! But many of the old fashions were sensible.

To parents :-Don’t be selfish with regard to your children, when they are at an age to marry and want to do so. Many a father and mother who married early place all sorts of obstacles in the way of their children when it comes to settling their own lives. Then again, some children feel called by God to devote themselves to Him, as Nuns, Brothers or Priests. Sometimes Catholic parents oppose every obstacle they can. They fear to lose their children, forgetting two things-viz., (I) that they did not hesitate to leave their own parents when they wanted to marry, and (2) that the children that go to Religious life are the ones least lost to their parents. The other children marry, and, though that does not mean that they lose their love for their parents, it does mean that they divide their interest more than do children who go into Religion. The latter have for the rest of life only two interests-viz., God and their family, whereas the former have three-viz., God, the family from which they came, and the family that they form. It is a terribly serious thing to interfere with a child who has a vocation to Religion, and a Catholic parent who does so must fear the Judgment very much. As for the other children who do not feel called in that way, their vocation is to marry, and bring up a family of their own for God. Here again, the needless obstacles that some parents place in the way often cause much unhappiness, and sometimes drive children into going their own way and marrying in spite of the parents. Selfishness lies at the root of such an action, and parents should beware of it.

CONCLUSION

You who read this little pamphlet, do try to realise that the writer has only one object-viz., to try to do what little he can do to help to the formation of really genuine home-life amongst our people. That is the only road to real happiness in life for the individual, to social and moral stability for our country, and to an increase in the number of happy, glorified souls in Heaven, which is the eternal perfection of all that is embraced in the meaning of that short, but beautiful, word- Home.

Cum Permissu Superiorum:

Nihil obstat:

J. DONOVAN,

Censor Theol, Deputatus.

Imprimatur:

@ D. Mannix,

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis. 1933

********

How Atheism Kills Freedom

BY D. G. M. JACKSON, M.A

INDEX

A DISCUSSION OF THE FOUNDATIONS OF FREEDOM, AND HOW THEY ARE TO BE DEFENDED.

ATHEIST PROPAGANDA AND FREEDOM

A SHORT time ago, the Melbourne press gave headlines to a sensation which had been caused in England by a certain Mrs. Knight. This lady, the wife of a university man from Australia, had been giving some talks under the auspices of the B.B.C., in which she advocated that children should be taught that the existence of God was very much open to doubt: “Some people no more believe in Him than in Santa Claus.” She suggested, too, that the Bible, both Old Testament and New, should be handled, for cultural purposes, simply as a body of myth, like the classical legends of Greece and Rome: and that Jesus of Nazareth should be treated simply as a human preacher, His claims to superhuman power being dismissed as mere fantasy, along with His miracles and Resurrection. It seems that this lady recognizes that some acquaintance with Christian Theism is part of the essential equipment of an educated person, in view of the historical importance of this system of thought in the development of Western civilization. It is to be regarded, however, one gathers, simply as a “museum piece,” which is no more “alive” than the elaborate religious system of the ancient Egyptians for the civilized modern person of today.

It is not my design on this occasion to examine Mrs. Knight’s views about God and Christianity in any detail. I will only say that her gibe about Santa Claus suggests that she has never seriously considered the problem of Theism at all. Has she, for instance, reckoned with the difficulty, which Professor Haldane himself has admitted, of accounting for human thought itself in terms of materialistic naturalism? For the rest, it is far easier to wave the Gospels away airily as largely “myth” than to account, in a scientific manner, for the marvels related in them, soberly, by writers who undoubtedly derived their material from eyewitnesses, and produced their work at a time when large numbers who had seen and known the Nazarene were still alive. That the Resurrection was the heart of the Christian message of the first disciples is certain- and their whole character and conduct is inconsistent with the view that they were consciously fraudulent, or the victims of hallucination: while the authorities who opposed them found it impossible to produce the kind of evidence which would certainly have been available to refute their claim, if it had been the falsity that infidels assume. It simply isn’t good enough to declare “it can’t have happened because science says the dead don’t rise.” Science has nothing to say about a world beyond the natural order which is its proper field. If the evidence makes it clear that a marvel has occurred, all that the honest scientist can say is simply:”From the standpoint of our human knowledge, this cannot be accounted for.” And nothing is added to our understanding of what occurred early one Sunday morning in the reign of the Roman Emperor Tiberias, during the administration of the Procurator, Pontius Pilate, in Palestine, by comparisons with pagan myths or legends, which make no pretence whatever to factual historicity.

THE B.B.C. AND ATHEIST RIGHTS

That is all, then, that I propose to say at present about this lady’s superior nonsense concerning Christian “myth” and mystery. I’ll pass on to deal with a matter which seems to me of far greater importance- namely, whether a free democratic government is right in allowing views of this kind to be given widespread publicity on a national radio network like the B.B.C. It appears that their expression caused an explosion of Christian indignation, in which all religious bodies were united: and that the press condemned the offensive broadcasts very heartily. One can well believe, indeed, that many who are themselves indifferent or irreligious would find the idea of systematically “indoctrinating” the young in crude disbelief a highly repugnant one, and would regard the dissemination of a propaganda like that of Mrs. Knight socially demoralising. The B.B.C., however, refused to yield to the protest by imposing a ban on the lady’s broadcasts, though it was ready to provide ample “air-space” for those who sought to refute her- notably the Archbishop of Canterbury. Its resolution in this case, indeed, is in contrast with its eager spirit of “appeasement” not only before, when it hastened to apologize for the perfectly true casual reflection of a Catholic Bishop (whose script had been passed) which happened to offend certain leading personages in the Six Counties of Northern Ireland still under British rule.

The principle on which the B.B.C. apparently bases its conduct is one very generally assumed in the modern world—namely, that “religious freedom” requires that the public authority should not merely treat the adherents of existing religious bodies on the same footing, but should hold an equal balance between theism and atheism, regarding the propaganda for both sides in this fundamental dispute as “indifferent” from the standpoint of the common well-being which it is its business to defend. “You may not like Mrs. Knight’s views,” these people will say in effect: “but if you truly believe in freedom, you will be prepared- like Voltaire- to fight for her right to publicize them, no less than for that of the Christian leaders to refute them.”

Expressed in this fashion, the claim sounds very plausible: and those who oppose it would appear to be either narrow-minded reactionaries, or the victims of an emotionalism which cannot be allowed to influence the policies of responsible statesmanship, if democratic liberties are to be preserved. I should like to suggest, however, that a closer scrutiny reveals it to be based on a principle which no Christian believer can accept if he thinks clearly, and which the whole experience of the modern world reveals to be false, and fatal to the liberties and civilized values we have inherited.

My case is that these values are inseparably linked with the idea of Divine Authority and Divine Law, to which all human communities are subject: that the basic notion of the dignity and freedom of the individual has come down to us from ancestors who believed man to be sacred, because made in the “Image of God,” and destined to an immortal life: and that when these beliefs cease to be held by those who rule the State, or by the people in whose name they govern, there is a gradual “devaluation of man” leading to a drift towards inhumanity, collective servitude and barbarism. If this is true, I think you will agree, it is the duty of the State to regard the active campaigners against Christian theism, not as the maintainers of a view which has no relevance from its standpoint, but as people who are socially dangerous, because their propaganda tends to weaken the moral foundations of ordered freedom.

LIBERALISM AND CHRISTIAN THEISM

At first glance, it might appear that the ideas of”liberty, equality and fraternity,” as they are familiar to us in modern history, are far from being fruits of the Christian spirit. They were inscribed upon the standards of the French Revolution, which declared war upon the Altar as well as the Sacred Throne,whose occupant reigned “by the grace of God.” The men who handed them down, first to the American fathers, and then to the radicals of France and the rest of Europe, were, many of them, unbelievers and enemies of religion: and almost all were bitter critics of the existing established Churches, both Catholic and Protestant. Men like Diderot dreamed of the emancipation of man from the “reign of God” no less than from the government of Priests and Kings. He was to have no “moral policeman” in Heaven, but was to accept only the clear dictates of his own reason. It is to be noticed, however, that, whether these men were atheists, or believed—like Rousseau and Jefferson—in some kind of “Supreme Being,” they based their attack on the socalled “Christian persons and institutions of their time very largely on the ground that they outraged certain “moral standards” and ideals which they assumed to be absolute.

The “King by Right Divine” governed wrong: His “Justice” had nothing to do with real justice, which should deal with men according to their humanity and social value, not according to arbitrary and artificial distinction of blood. The authorities ground down the poor and treated them as serfs, pitilessly sweating labour and taxes out of them: whereas it was their duty to give them liberty, and to design a State which would promote their wellbeing. The doctrine of the Church—they asserted- was full of corrupt superstition, and its teaching, and the conduct of its clergy, denied the sublime doctrine of the Galilean, of Whom they professed to be followers. They were rich and proud- He had been poor and humble: they imposed their authority as allies of a Government organized to serve the rich and great: He had denounced the oppressors of His time, including the priests, and had been murdered for doing it. Jesus had been compassionate- they were without pity: He had been upright- they were hypocrites: He had been heroic- they were contemptible.

It must be obvious a very large proportion of this criticism was conducted by the use of weapons taken straight out of the Christian armoury, even when those using it were infidels. They taunted Christians with not being loyal to their faith: they constituted themselves as champions of the social values of the Founder of that Faith, even when they rejected Church creeds with contempt.

But above all, they asserted the dignity of Man. The people, said Rousseau, must be regarded as the only true sovereign. Every man was entitled to “life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness,” said the American Fathers. States must be designed according to the law of “Right Reason” in order to satisfy the requirements of the common man: the laws must be framed in conformity with his true nature, so that his virtue might be developed and the danger of corruption might be diminished. Slavery was outrageous because it meant treating him as a chattel or instrument, and not a person: the lives of women, “the weaker sex,” and children, must be the object of special protection, their oppression was especially outrageous to humane sentiment. It was increasingly demanded that all men should have opportunities to acquire culture, as well as wealth: and then that these should be equalized, so that the distinctions between men should be based on their real qualities rather than their accidental advantages of birth.

Man’s pursuit of Truth must be free, like his pursuit of happiness. He must be free to inquire as well as free to worship as he would: and liberty of self-expression must be assured as well as sound information, through a free press.

MAN’S IMMORTAL VALUE

It was long before the children of the liberal secularists set themselves to inquire into the basis of the exaltation of man. Their Christian ancestors, to be sure, had believed that God had established a radical distinction between man and the lower animals, by making each human being a “Divine Image” with a Living Soul. He had shown His special love, again, by the Incarnation of the Divine World, Who had “become Flesh,” and thereby glorified the Flesh. In the words of the old American battle hymn, the glory of Christ’s Person had “transfigured you and me.” Man was by nature immortal- so that the least human being would outlive the mightiest of human earthly communities, which had no real value except in terms of their service to the life of the individual and his true happiness, here and hereafter. He was given a reason capable of grasping Truth, so that he might use it in the service of Truth, according to the measure of his might. He had power to distinguish right from wrong, so that he might do right. It was wicked to maltreat or murder human beings, because they were a sort of lesser divinities, not mere animals—they could be slain only by God’s authority vested in lawful magistrates, for serious offences involving moral responsibility.

This had been the belief of Christian ages about human beings—even though the practice of Christian communities had seldom come anywhere near realizing its implications. They had, however, been exposed to a constant running fire of criticism from saints and reformers, and the Christian conscience had gradually made its mark on social institutions, here and there. Where it had failed to do so, there continued to be a tension: the ghost of the Christian ideal haunting the nominally Christian societies which were organized without regard to it.

That ideal had operated powerfully, in the end, for the destruction of the “old order”: but it could not continue, indefinitely, to inspire the social action of men who had ceased to believe that the human person was in any real sense sacred: who no longer regarded human Reason as a spiritual faculty enabling men to grasp Reality and Truth: and who looked upon ethical values as rooted in subjective human feeling, and not in the Law of God.

HOW ATHEISM DEVALUES MAN

So far, we have passed from the discussion of the anti-God propaganda of Mrs. Knight in some B.B.C. broadcasts, to the question whether a democratic authority ought to regard the principle of “religious liberty” as including “liberty for antireligious propaganda.” It has been suggested that to attack Christian theism is to attack the concept of humanity and humane values upon which the free democratic system is founded. It has been shown, too, that the founding fathers of modern Western “democracy,” even when they proclaimed themselves enemies of the Throne and Altar, based their revolutionary protest upon a conception of human dignity and equality, and a notion of Real Justice, Truth and Reason, which they had received from Christian ancestors, as part of a system of thought which holds that human persons were sacred, because they were immortal souls made in the Divine Image.

The liberal humanitarianism of the last century was, in fact, a hybrid: or, if you like, an intermediate stage on the road towards a fuller phase of social secularism. Its radical reformers, even when, as in Europe, they were largely antiChristian, were living on the capital of a Christian ethic, to which they in reality appealed under colour of “social humanitarianism,” and their very faith in Reason was based on the notion of man as a spiritual being capable of grasping truth. As time went on, however, secularist criticism, based on new scientific theories, weakened the spiritual foundations of this unstable compromise, at the very moment when the applied sciences were transforming the Western world, and creating new problems of power and of “mechanised life.”

“What is man?” cried David long ago: and he proceeded to say that God had made him a little lower than the angels. In the age after Darwin, however, scientific popularisors who proclaimed the “hypothesis of God” to be unnecessary, declared him to be a being a little higher than the apes, and the result of a natural process of struggle whose meaning was obscure- if, indeed, it had any meaning. To be sure, it was flattering to human pride to be really “on top of the world”—captain of one’s soul, master of things, maker of values: and the last shadows of the Christian idea to disappear was the idea of Progress.

MARXIAN AND RACIALIST THEORIES OF PROGRESS

Man was ascending: he was the spearhead of a “purposive process” even if its origins were irrational and its end doubtful. He was destined to find fulfilment, said Marx, in a new world order, in which social-economic harmony would at last be achieved, and the wars, oppressions, miseries and drugging spiritual illusions of the previous ages would dissolve into the Communist peace which was the final goal of history. The task of the intelligent man of the present era was to place himself in the revolutionary van of this movement of destiny and to aid in the process of “moulding man” to the shape of the new order- the elements resisting the process must be forced to move on, else ploughed under. There was no moral meaning in life, except in terms of this social process: the individual person had no significance, except as a contributor towards it in one way or another.

Other thinkers and politicians conceived the “struggle for existence” in somewhat different terms, and formed different conclusions about the next phase of universal history. A number of German, French and Anglo-Saxon thinkers on evolutionary lines contributed to the notion, which gained especial popularity in Germany, of a Higher Race emerging from the ruck of humanity, in order to fulfil its destiny in creating a new world. The idea that the heroic pioneers of this process had a duty to humanity at large was dismissed as mere superstition: the rest of men were divided into those who could be received as partners in mastery, slave-races whose destiny was to serve their lords, and human vermin who must be “liquidated’ because their blood and traditions made them natural enemies of the real progress of mankind. For the Racists, “religious myths” were of value if they could be revised so as to conform with the requirements of the “Blood and Soil” cult: but the notion that man was sacred or precious as man was a corrupting error; and the value of even higher human beings depended—as with the Marxists—upon their “usefulness” in contributing to the collective achievement, and their complete self-abandonment in the service of the hive. The old idea of “justice” towards individuals was meaningless, being based on the myth of a “Higher Law”—humanity was simply weakness, since it involved sparing anti-social types and treating inferiors as equals and was opposed to the “hardness” needed for conquest in the cosmic struggle.

Here, then, we have two alternative “designs for social living” which have been applied to large bodies of men in our own time, in which the consequences of the rejection of a Divine Order, and the acceptance of “man-made” values are only worked out. In both of them, the individual human personality is “devalued” to the utmost, and the liberties and rights of the citizens depends completely upon the arbitary will of those who govern, who regard no law as superior to the fulfilment of their plan. The assertion ofcollective man’s absolute mastery attains its utmost heights in the complete absorption of the insignificant individualman’s life, into the disciplined and directed life of the hive.

MAN AS THE RAW MATERIAL OF PLANNING

The social code of the Communist States has been denounced frequently for its massive disregard for humane considerations. The accounts of “correction-camps” and “forced labour camps” given by refugees have startled the free world, and, with these, we have heard of “brain-washings,” mass-liquidations and deportations; as well as the carefully worked out designs whereby the social services, the Trade Unions, and other structures originally designed for the benefit of the “under-dog” have been transformed into chains for his enslavement. It is well that we should realize, however, that the humane principles invoked by the free world in its condemnation of these detestable things are entirely invalid in terms of the thought of those who administer the planned Socialism of the Soviet Union and its satellites. For purposes of propaganda, they continue to talk in conventionally humane terms when denouncing their opponents, or appealing to the emotions of plain men who still think along the lines of traditional ethics: but when they are analysing social situations at home in Marx-Leninist terms, their speech betrays their real thought only too well. Listen to this, from the Czech Prime Minister, Zapotocky, in a statement on the Party’s attitude to medical care for sick workers.

“Not even the doctors,” he complains, “have a proper appreciation of our production. Widespread are the philanthropic, liberal and incorrect views that the main thing is to help and support the individual. What kind of a socialist point of view is that, comrades?” The sick worker, you see, is worth nothing in himself—the one thing to be considered is the effect that the cessation of his toil may have on the production process. His treatment must be regulated, therefore, according to his importance in that process. His restoration to full health does not matter, so long as he can be restored enough to carry on at a minimum of cost, and with the minimum of interruption. Again, the idea that a man’s individual subscription to unemployment and sickness relief, justly entitle him to benefit according to a certain standard is swept aside as “out of date.” The use of the sums subscribed is to be decided by those who administer them, simply with a view to providing an incentive to work, and in the light of the results of work done. These small examples will, I think, serve to illustrate how the idea of personal insignificance and rightlessness is carried into every detail of the Communist system, in which the implications of the secular-atheist view of man are fully realized.

THE LOGIC OF SOCIAL SECULARISM

You may say: I admit that secularist States have done these horrible deeds: but, after all, so-called Christians States have a horrid record of inhumanity behind them, too: they have practiced slavery and oppression, they have committed mass-inhumanities: and they have sometimes used religion itself as an excuse for these things. All this is, of course, perfectly true- but, as I have already pointed out, Christian Theism provided standards in whose light these evils could be criticized, and moral incentives for reform. A true Christian might accept a bad system like slavery as unavoidable, and even uphold it as such: but he could not believe that it was right to treat men as mere chattels or instruments, even if he was a slave-owner: and, in a community governed on Christian principle, there was a natural tendency for the servile class to collect customary “rights” based on their human personalities—to marriage, family life, a certain degree of independent ownership and immunity from arbitrary power. The more thoroughly Christian it was, the more the personalist pattern would prevail, as the underlying faith in the sacredness of man made itself felt in action.

With secularism, the opposite law prevails—the more fully its concept of man is realized, the more the individual becomes “raw material” to be used or fashioned in accordance with the requirements of some collective plan for production, or social experiment, or material conquest.

The reason is, that once we consider man to be no more than a planetary being, the highest of the mammals, talk of his “dignity” and “fundamental rights” is merely a fantastic misuse of words. Personally, he cannot possibly be made to amount to more than a brief moment in an immense process: if he has an importance, it depends on his place in the activity of the community which has a larger, longer planetary life. The “Higher Law” is nothing but a subjective human fantasy, which the enlightened Planners will not allow to interfere with their designs for collective wealth and power. As for the reign of Reason: of what worth are the speculations upon the meaning of existence of an animal-inevolution? The idea that his mind bears a sort of divine ray in the sensory world, to penetrate its real meaning, is clearly a hangover from the age of Theism. Man’s reality and value are reduced to his biological organism—which means that it is consistent to treat him as other organisms are treated, in relation to the aim of the particular collective group to which he is attached. What should that aim be? It isn’t possible to say, in a world from which moral absolutes and final causes have been banished, so that nothing remains but what people in power happen to want at the moment.

A SOCIAL PROBLEM AND TWO SOLUTIONS

“In this world,” says one of John Dewey’s clever disciples, “ends as well as means must be held subject to review as events continually develop.” You have a social order in which the process of mechanization is going ahead rapidly, and large scale industry tends to concentrate the control of power and wealth in a few hands, while reducing the multitude to dependence and destroying the traditional pattern of their lives. How are you going to deal with this situation?

The Christian thinker believes that man is sacred, and that the first aim of society is to help him to live virtuously according to the laws of his nature, which require that he should enjoy a certain degree of personal independence as well as material well-being. He would say: The problem is one of redesigning your industrial system so that those who work it can exercise a pressure of human choice in their vocation and enjoy a stable and healthy family life with security. We must work against developments which make common men helpless subjects of the arbitrary power of the handful of controllers and machine managers. It would appear that this requires a modification in the system of large-scale industry so that it may conform to these basic human requirements.

The logical secularist will approach the question very differently. He will say “large -scale industry obviously represents the latest phase in the human process, and we must accept its actuality. The task is to adapt the workers to the new situation by furnishing them with a degree of material well-being and amenities and moulding them to a system of thoughts and values which will be serviceable to the collective processes of production. They must give up their old ways of living, and their former aspirations towards independence. They must learn to collaborate in a disciplined way with the skilled men at the top, and accept their directives: and they must lift their eyes towards a new age-vision of larger production, and more mechanization since this is the way the stream of life is running.

In a work, actualism, here and now, is the only thing that counts. Man is a self-compulsive bundle of 126 instincts, whose end is his becoming. The answer to the problem of growing servitude is to produce “conditioned” types to meet the demands for slaves: the answer to maladjustments is to tailor the square peg to fit a round hole, and scrap it if it will not. There are no real “values” to consider, only the will-to-power of the planners: the task of Science is to find how the “design for living” can be arranged so that their machines will go on smoothly.

The conclusion seems irresistible—that there can be no “democratic institutions” or liberties or rights for the common man unless the human person is accepted, as somehow really sacred: and, if God is denied, there is no way in which he can be sanctified, so as to be immune from servitude and “conditioning” at the will of tyrants equipped with the latest devices of science.

III. NO GOD, NO FREEDOM

We have seen, now, that the secularist idea of man as an animal-in-evolution, a bundle of complexes related to a planetary process which has no meaning but what man himself plans to give it, leads inevitably to the “devaluation” of the individual person, and the destruction of the notion of civil liberties and personal rights. The “master of things” and maker of new values ends up harnessed, in servile fashion, to the instruments of his own power and production, under the absolute power of planners whose task is to direct the experimental further processes of collective living and social organization, in order to achieve ends determined by themselves. It has been shown that the “totalitarian” systems of our time, which the free world condemns as degrading, inhuman and the like, are the logical result of the atheist principles professed by those who exercise power in the regions where they prevail: and that, as belief in God fades, with the vision of man as His Image and the subject of His Law, the idea of liberty, equality, justice and Reason, in whose name the former revolts against the old regime were raised, must perish also.

THE OBLITERATION OF TRUTH

The grim picture of a fullyequipped “world-order” designed by men who had succeeded in banishing the idea of God and the Soul, and had worked out a scheme for breeding humans artificially—thus eliminating family relations and loyalties—was painted before the war by Aldous Huxley in his Brave New World. Forecasts of an even more grotesque and terrifying type, based on the observation of present-day trends, have been made by Orwell and others in recent times. It is no use pretending that these prophetic warnings are mere fantasy, when we can see the developing seeds whose horrid flowering they picture. To take a single example, the Orwellian method of “obliterating truth” by systematically destroying the memory of inconvenient facts, and inventing and composing official fictions in place of them, is being practised today in the Soviet Union. Its science, art, history, information services and education are all under the reign of an officially imposed system of “truth” designed to serve the purposes of “the system”—a truth which can be arbitrarily revised with every change in the “party line” and with every new development in the struggle for power at the top. Lavrenti Beria, having fallen from office and been mysteriously obliterated, a new account of his life appears, in which he “features” as a tainted villain from the beginning: his name is removed from dictionaries and information-files, so that it may be forgotten officially; the former chief of police becomes a nonentity. The drama of Communist trials, with the mass-propaganda accompanying them, is intended for the same purpose- to provide a fully-fashioned and detailed official fiction to stand in place of the truth about their victims, and stamp it thoroughly into the mind of the common man.

POWER UNGOVERNED BY REASON

In our own society, the obliteration of inconvenient fact is not carried out so deliberately: but the memory of certain truths can be gradually destroyed, so far as the common man is concerned, by simply ceasing to pass them on. Modern secular education has gone far towards promoting a new illiteracy about religion: the transmission of the classical culture of the Western world is no longer of principal importance to the designers of cultural curricula even at the university level. Theobject of the new education is to make man “at home” in the present world and to equip him for a career in it. The teacher has no subject-matter which even pretends to deal systematically with the elementary and universal issues of human destiny: and if the graduate of the modern school knows whatever wisdom mankind has come to about the nature and purpose of the world, it is only by accident and by hearsay. There is, therefore, a cultural vacuum: and this vacuum is producing a progressive disorder in the development and use of material knowledge. Reason no longer controls man’s desires to make them conform with a higher law: it has become “the instrument by which his instinctive impulses seek their satisfaction,” to use the phrase of a celebrated psychologist. The power which science places in his hands is, therefore, ungoverned. He devises instruments which can obliterate vast cities at a blow, and breeds germs which can wipe out whole populations: he has invented methods of psychological oppression which can destroy resistance by capturing and dominating the very citadel of the personality. And the impulse towards greater power which has led to the acquisition of these deadly kinds of power engenders a horrid itch to make use of them. What can restrain this terrible impulse? Little- it would seem- except fear and the remainder of a humane moral scruple derived from the habits of thought of the past- when men had not learned from John Dewey that “the business of mortals” was to discover man’s “organic powers and propensities,” and not to speculate upon an ultimate standard of right and wrong.

Is it surprising, really, that among the great “backroom boys” of the secular institutions of research, who have dedicated their lives to the applied sciences, there have developed perversions of sympathetic thought towards the enemies of freedom, which make this class a constant object of anxiety to the ruler of the democratic world? Why should they have a “social conscience” about defending democratic values? How can they avoid being drawn towards a world in which the scientific planners and experts are treated as superior beings, and in which their vast experiments are hampered by no outworn prejudices about human rights and social ethics? Why should they allow traditional notions about “loyalty” to America, or Britain, or France to prevent them from giving aid to the men who govern that world in order that they may be able to carry on and extend their bold designs, and be secured against the interference of those who stand for the outworn humanities of yesterday?

WHO ARE THE FIGHTERS FOR FREEDOM?

If we wish to know the truth about the foundations of liberty, it is instructive to look at the scene “behind the iron curtain,” and to notice from what quarters resistance has come to the claim of the planners to “play god” with the lives of plain men and women. I do not think there has been a single case in which a modern man of science has suffered martyrdom for the cause of freedom- or even of scientific truth. The scientists have been content to bow to policetyranny, and to fulfil the tasks given to them for the purposes of Communist power-policy. A rather better fight has been put up by some of the politicians, and the politically-minded classes who have followed their lead. The secular socialists, however, have been bludgeoned or seduced for the most part, into submission or collaboration, when they have not fled: the liberals of the earlier vintage of secular revolution have made a wretched showing as fighters for the freedom about which they used to talk so eloquently. The men who have been seen standing up to the tyrants, and who have provided the cause of freedom with new martyrs and confessors, have not been the inheritors of the liberal faith of Rousseau or the enlightened progressive humanitarianism of the nineteenth century. They raised a standard of resistance which was very much older- which had been displayed before Caiphas and Pilate, Nero and Diocletian, long before it was raised in face of the brutal servants of Stalin and Mao-Tse-tung and the rest of the godless Communist juntas. The Galilean and His Apostles had not appealed to “the rights of man” in standing up to the ancient authorities of the pagan and Jewish world. They had simply declared to these men that there was a law of God above their laws, and that their power was valid only if it was exercised in accordance with that law, from which it was itself derived. Long before anyone had even dreamed of the exercise of popular sovereignty through elected assemblies, or begun to talk about civil liberties for all, these men had the foundations of true freedom by proclaiming authority to be a Divine stewardship, and subject to the moral restrictions imposed by its purpose. This was the protection and welfare of the common man, who must be enabled to live according to his nature, to worship the true God in the right way, and carry out the virtuous activities required for the salvation of his soul. Thus the moral limitation of the power of men over other men which is necessary to the existence of liberty was asserted, as a fundamental principle of the universal order of Divine Justice, by men who were little concerned with material wellbeing, but very much with what they called”the reign of God.” In the same way, they brought to light, as a byproduct of their Faith, the notion that the purpose of Government must be the service of God and the people, and that the earthly status of rulers gave them no spiritual privilege which distinguished them from the least of their subjects in the sight of their Divine Overlord.

CHRISTIAN RADICALISM

The attitude of God towards the hierarchies of earthly power, had been shown, Christians held, by the incarnation of His Divine Son in poverty and life as a village craftsman; by Christ’s choice of poor peasants and fishermen as the friends and disciples who were to continue the work, and by His positive precepts—dramatically acted out- in regard to the relations between masters and servants in the new Christian order. These truths might be obscured, but they could never wholly be forgotten while the Christian virtues were accepted as the foundation of men’s thinking: the servitude of a man’s earthly station did not prevent him from being a “king of men” in the real order of the spirit: indeed, since every man was God’s image, and Christ’s own brother, every man must be, in some sort “a king” even here below.

And a radical shadow from the world of real values fell upon the world of earthly conventions whenever the priests and people sang the Magnificat.

He hath put down the mighty from their seat, and exalted the humble, He hath filled the hungry with good things, and sent the rich away empty.

Yes, the first Christians were an obedient and submissive lot so long as the demands of Caesar did not outrage their principles: but the masters of Rome were not wrong in their judgment that their system was incompatible with the existing order, and must undermine and transform it once it grew strong; and the new atheist Caesars of Communism are no less discerning in realizing that they cannot master and mould the minds and souls of their people, and build their new, closed, collectivist order, so long as a large multitude continues to believe that there is a Divine Law to which they owe a higher service- an unalterable law founded in the nature of things; and governing the whole of life and human relations—a law which cannot be refashioned according to the latest requirements of the social planners. It is over this that the irrepressible conflict has been joined, because it is here that the foundation of human freedom is really laid.

“The ideals which we regard as typically Western,” says Christopher Dawson—“the supremacy of law, the recognition of the moral rights of the individual and the duty of society towards the poor and the oppressed—are not the invention of modern democracy. They are ultimately products of the Christian tradition and find their only true justification in Christian principles.”

From the time of the medieval charters, and the feudal contracts establishing authority on a basis of mutual responsibilities under God’s Law, to the days of the American Declaration in which the essential equality and just liberties of man are derived from their Creator’s endowment, the rights of man and those of God have been seen as two sides of the same coin. You cannot deny the Divine Name on one side without devaluing the human image on the other.

DEMOCRACY MUST BE “PRO -GOD”

And so, at the end, we come back to Mrs. Knight, and the question of what ought to be done about her and her sort

- whose influence is rampant in educational institutions, in political life, and in every class of society at the present time. There is no question of a State “persecution” of militant infidels, of course—leaving aside the whole question of principle, repressive activity, even against false and anti-social opinions as such, is more likely to create sympathy for them than otherwise, especially when those who stand for them are adept at making use of popular slogans to serve their purposes. This does not mean, however, that the democratic State ought to stand neutral as between Christian theism- upon which the moral foundations of its liberties rest- and those who attack the Faith openly, or seek to undermine it in one fashion or another. Clearly, such people have no claim, any more than traitors or immoralists, to a share in the facilities of a national organ of publicity like the B.B.C., and wherever the responsible authorities can exercise control or influence, whether direct or indirect, it should be used resolutely, though with due discretion, so as to strengthen and aid the forces in favour of faith in God and in the spiritual worth and dignity of man. In the sphere of education, again, true “justice” does not mean neutrality as between Christianity and Secularism—far less, giving secularism a privileged status by wiping religion off the curriculum. It requires that the policy of aiding and strengthening religion should be observed over the whole field of cultural activity, as a matter of duty to the common good. As for the propaganda of atheism, it should be tolerated only as vice is tolerated, within limits defined by a balance between the public danger of the thing itself and the danger involved in the expansion of State power required to repress it, with the social consequences entailed in such action.

The Divine Reality cannot be ignored or treated as an irrelevant thing for the purposes of public policy, without bringing about social consequences of a dire and destructive kind affecting the whole of life and civilization. It is high time for the free nations to face up to this truth, before their freedoms crumble further under the regime of false “neutralism” which gives full scope to the enemy within.

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How The Church In England Became Protestant

CHAPTER I

The Church of England was cut off from communion with the rest of the Catholic Church presided over by the Pope.

THE Church in England till the schism had never been a national Church in the sense that she was cut off from communion with the rest of the Christian Church presided over by the Pope. She was a component part of the universal Church known as the Catholic Church, of which the Bishop of Rome was the supreme ruler and teacher of truth. This was the secret of her strength, as it was of every other local Church in communion with the Apostolic See. This is why she was able to resist the oppressive action of the State which had so often threatened her rights and liberties ; for in her struggles she could always count upon the aid of her head the Bishop of Rome. From the days, however, that the Church in England ceased to form part of that vast organization we speak of as the Catholic Church, she was absorbed by the State, and became merely a State department. To the present day, so complete is the dependence of the Church on the State that she may not legislate in any matter of importance except with the sanction of the Crown. And be it noted that this condition of things is so completely acquiesced in by the bishops and clergy of the State Church that no such thing is ever heard of as a joint act of protest on the part of the clergy and bishops of the said Church against the action of the State.

Let us then briefly refer to the events which brought about the separation of England from the Apostolic See. Henry had been married to Queen Catherine of Aragon, niece of the Emperor Charles V, since the year 1509. In the year 1527 he began to take steps to endeavour to prove that his marriage was null and void, as he had determined to marry Anne Boleyn, one of Queen Catherine’s ladies-in-waiting. To secure this object he nominated Thomas Cranmer for the Pope to appoint to the vacant Archbishopric of Canterbury-an appointment the Pope would never have made had he been better acquainted with the private life and religious principles of that unworthy member of the English clergy.

By a preconceived arrangement with the King, Cranmer, on being appointed archbishop, lost no time in petitioning him to allow of an official examination being made into the matrimonial cause. This was to be followed by a final sentence favourable to a divorce. In his reply the King answered, “Because ye be under us by God’s calling and ours, the most powerful minister of our spiritual jurisdiction within this our realm, we will not refuse your humble request to make an end in our said great cause of matrimony.”1 On May 23; 1533, Cranmer declared the marriage between Henry and Queen Catherine null and void, and on the 28th he further pronounced the marriage with Anne Boleyn to have been valid. It had been celebrated on January 25 by the King’s chaplain, Dr. Roland Lee, who was assured by Henry that the Pope had granted the Bull of Divorce.2 On July 11 the Pope excommunicated the King and declared the newly contracted marriage null and void.

How loyal a Catholic the King had shown himself to be before he set his heart upon marrying Anne Boleyn, may be judged from the letter he addressed to Pope Leo X, who on February 13, 1513, was elected to fill the See of Peter. On September 28 of this same year the King writes as follows : “We pray the most High God that even as He and no other has given your Holiness as an excellent helmsman to the tempest-tossed bark of His Church, so He may long preserve you whom we acknowledge and revere and venerate as the most true Vicar of Jesus Christ here upon earth and pastor of the universal Church. As soon as the storms of the present wars will permit, we shall send our ambassador in our name, who will do due obedience to your Holiness, and will promise you every service which as a devoted and most obedient son of your Holiness and of the Holy See we shall be able to render.”1

1 Collier, II, Rec.p. 157.

2 Stowe 561, Archceologia, XVIII, 81.

In 1521 the King sent John Clerke, Bishop of Bath and Wells, to convey to the Pope the work which he had written on the Seven Sacraments : it was a refutation of the teaching of Protestantism as set forth by Martin Luther, an apostate friar. The King’s ambassador made a public and official declaration of his sovereign’s loyalty to the Pope in full Consistory in presence of the cardinals and the ambassadors of the other Catholic nations. He spoke of England’s devotion to the Holy See in the following terms : “ Let others speak of other nations but unquestionably of my Britain-my England as in more recent times she has been called . . . as in the worship of God and the Christian faith and due obedience to the Roman Church she has never yielded to Spain nor to France, nor to Germany, nor to Italy, nor to any other less distant country, nor to Rome herself-so is it true that no nation is more opposed to this monster [Luther] and to the heresies born of him.”2

In recognition of the King’s services in the interests of the Church, Pope Leo X conferred on him the title of “Defender of the Faith.” “As we have by this title honoured you,” wrote the Pope; “we likewise command all Christians that they name your Majesty by this title, and that in their writing to your Majesty immediately after the word King they add ‘Defender of the Faith.’ 3

The persecution by the King of the English clergy began with the opening of the year 1531, and in the first instance was probably commenced with the object of frightening the Pope into compliance with the King’s wishes. On January 6 Henry charged the clergy with having incurred the penalties of the law known as “praemunire,” seeing that they had submitted them-selves to the jurisdiction of Cardinal Wolsey in his capacity of the Pope’s Legate on the occasion of his having examined into the marriage cause. It is difficult to credit the King with such meanness as was involved in this act ; for it was at the King’s own request that the Cardinal had been made the Pope’s Legate in England, and the licence to hold this position had been granted him under the great seal.

In consequence of this alleged breaking of the law, the clergy of the Convocation of Canterbury were fined 100,000 (about 1,000,000 of our modern money), payable in five yearly instalments, and the Convocation of York was called upon to pay something over 18,000. Not satisfied with levying these fines, the King insisted upon the clergy acknowledging him as “Protector and Supreme Head of the English Church.” Finding that the clergy would not consent to assign this title to him, he sent word that after the word “head” the words “after Christ” should be added. But in the end the King had to be satisfied with the title being modified as follows : “We acknowledge His Majesty to be the special Protector, single and supreme Lord and, as far as the law of Christ allows, even supreme Head.”

The example of the Convocation of Canterbury was followed by that of York. Cardinal Wolsey being dead, there remained only Tunstall (Bishop of Durham) and Kite (Bishop of Carlisle) to represent the latter Con-vocation. The Bishop of Durham, before he would agree to accept the title the King asked to have as-signed to him, wrote on behalf of his Convocation to know what sense would be given to the said title. The King, in his reply, bids the clergy understand that his rights were not to be understood as interfering with the supreme authority of the Pope, but that his title as head of the English Church referred to his position as feudal lord over the clergy in things temporal.1

1 In Vatican transcripts of Marini in Brit. Museum, vol. xxxvii, p. 1.

2 Oratio Jo. Clerk apud Rom. Pontif. in preface to Assertio Sept. Sacrament (2nd edit. 1688).

3 Rymer, XIII. 757

1532. February 24-just six months before his death-Archbishop Warham drew up a formal declaration with reference to the action he had taken as regards Church legislation, and stated therein that he never meant to confer on the King anything derogatory to the rights of the Roman pontiff or the Apostolic See.2 t His example encouraged for the time being his fellow-bishops to stand firm in their allegiance to the Pope, and when, on April io, Parliament, before adjourning, was induced by the King to pass an act to deprive the Pope of the customary offering of the “annates” (the first year’s income on benefices), “all the bishops opposed it,” writes Chapuys, the Spanish ambassador to Charles V. He adds the sad item of information that “the lords, who were about thirty, consented, except the Earl of Arundell, so that the majority were for the King.”3

In their first reply to Henry’s proposals, they had said : “ As to the royal assent being required to authorize the laws made by them and their predecessors, the King must know from his learning and wisdom they could not submit the execution of their charges and duties to his royal assent.” In their second reply they had said “that the prelates of the Church had spiritual jurisdiction to rule and govern in faith and morals ; that they had authority to make rules and laws tending to that purpose. . . . The authority proceeded immediately from God, and from no power or consent of the prince.” It is sad to have to record that the presence of the members of the King’s council, who had instructions to assist at their deliberations, so completely overawed the bishops that they agreed to a resolution which laid it down “that no legislation by the clergy should be valid without the King’s consent and his permission for its execution.” A commission of thirty-two persons, all selected by the King-of whom sixteen should be laymen-were to consider whether there were ecclesiastical laws and ordinances which should be repealed.4

A series of articles against the Pope was introduced into Parliament/in March, 1534, among which were the following : Bishops were no longer to be appointed by the Pope ; Peter’s Pence and all other contributions of England to the Pope for the general administration of the Catholic Church were to be discontinued ; licences were to be asked for from the archbishop, and not from the Pope ; it was to be accounted treason to make any laws for the Church in England without the consent of the King the archbishops were to address themselves to the King in chancery, instead of to the Pope. An Act was passed incorporating the language contained in the declaration of 1532, known as the “submission of the clergy.” The King’s headship over the Church in England was set forth, no mention being made of the qualifying words with which the clergy in convocation (1532) had accepted it-”so far as the law of Christ allows.”

November 3. Parliament reassembled for some six weeks,5 and passed the statute of the King’s supremacy, of which we will give the following extract : “ Be it enacted by the authority of this present parliament that the King our sovereign lord, his heirs and successors, Kings of this realm, shall be taken, accepted and reputed the only supreme head on earth of the Church of England called Ecclesia Anglicans, and shall have and enjoy annexed and united to the imperial crown of this realm, as well the title and style thereof as all honours, dignities, pre-eminences, jurisdictions, etc., to the said dignity of supreme head of the same Church belonging . . . and shall have full power and authority from time to time to visit, reprove . . . and amend all such errors, heresies, etc., whatsoever they be, which by any manner, spiritual authority or jurisdiction, may be lawfully reformed, repressed, etc., any usage, custom, foreign law, foreign authority, prescription or any thing or things to the contrary hereof notwithstanding.”1

1 Wilkins, III, 762 ; Collier, II, 63 (1st ed.).

2 Wilkins, In, 746. Collier II, 63 (Ist ed.).

3 Cal. State Papers, Henry VIII.

4 Stubbs’s Appendix, p. 927.

5 Stubbs’s Appendix, IV, p. 110.

In the House of Lords, out of twenty-one bishops only four were present, of whom one was Archbishop Cranmer. It seems certain that they were so cowed and disheartened that, though they would not co-operate by their vote in passing the Supremacy Bill, they had not the courage to take an active part in endeavouring to have it thrown out. The Lower House of Convocation was ordered by the King to declare whether there was anything to be found in Scripture to show that “ the Bishop of Rome had greater jurisdiction in the realms of England than any other bishop.” By this cunning device Henry foresaw that he would obtain the reply he desired ; for of course there could be no reference in the Old or New Testament to the Bishop of Rome or to the realms of England. It is probable, however, that the reply of the bishops was misunderstood by the majority of the people in England, who in consequence will have had less difficulty in taking the oath of supremacy.

It is sad to have to relate that this oath was taken by all the bishops of England with the exception of John Fisher, Bishop of Rochester, who, rather than consent to do so, laid down his life on the scaffold. So far as a declaration of a majority of votes in both Houses of Parliament, and the oath as taken by her bishops, could be said to represent correctly the mind of the people as a nation, England was now in schism. She was then for the first time since the introduction of Christianity to her shores out of communion with the Apostolic See. “Then,” as Bishop Gore, late of Oxford, has truly put it, “the Church of England began to possess a separate and independent existence.”

CHAPTER II

How the Church of England, which had been ‘made schismatical under Henry VIII, became Protestant in the reign of Edward VI. Action of the English people in defence of the Old Faith,

HENRY VIII died January 28, 1547, and was succeeded on the throne by his only son, Edward VI, a mere boy of nine years old, who was little more than a tool in the hands of Archbishop Cranmer, Somerset the Protector, and the other leaders of the so-called Reformation. Though he separated the Church in England from the Apostolic See, Henry did not intro-duce into her creed doctrines or church services at variance with those of the Catholic Church. “The Church of England,” writes Dr. Short, Anglican Bishop of St. Asaph (1847), “ first ceased to be a member of the Church of Rome during the reign of Henry VIII, but it could scarcely be called Protestant till that of Edward VI. . . . During the short reign of Edward VI it became entirely Protestant, and in point of doctrine assumed its present form.”2 Suffice it to say that it was in the reign of this youthful King that the work of Protestantizing England commenced in earnest. The Mass was abolished, and the Book of Common Prayer was first introduced in the year 1547. The acceptance of certain articles of belief known as the Thirty-nine Articles-of which not a few are opposed to the teaching of the Catholic Church-was made obligatory on all who wished to be ministers of the Church in England.

It may well be doubted whether the so-called Church of England would ever have taken root in England had it not been for the aid of the bands of German heretics who were invited over to help on the work of crying down and slandering the doctrines and practices of the Catholic Church. Martin Bucer, an apostate priest, writing from London, August 14, 1549, to Albert Hardenberg, states that there were “from six to eight hundred Germans “at that time assisting him to propagate the new religion.1

1 Gee and Hardy, Doc. Illust. of Engl. Church History, p. 243. 2 Hist. of Church of England, p. 593.

John a Lasco, also an apostate priest, had under him a congregation composed of foreigners in the very heart of London, Dutch, German and Netherlander Protestants, all of whom, mainly through Bishop Hooper’s influence, were naturalized on July 24, 1550. Italian and French Protestants had each a meeting house, and there were others at Glastonbury composed of French and Walloons ; and bands of fanatics had found their way to Sandwich, Ipswich and Bristol. Need it be added that all these foreign Protestants gave their aid to every measure that had for its object the overthrow of the Catholic religion? No doubt the faith of many Englishmen was corrupted by these preachers who were sent from town to town and from village to village to ridicule and misrepresent the doctrines and practices of the Catholic Church. Bishops and priests who were not known as supporters of the new religion were not licensed to preach, and thus the heretics had it all their own way in most places.

Meanwhile the greater part of the people showed their unwillingness to give up the old religion by their refusal to assist at the services of the new Church that was being started ; and it is stated expressly in the preamble of the Act passed by Parliament in 1552 “for the due coming to Common Prayer,” that “a great number of people in diverse parts of the realm do wilfully and damnably refuse to come to their parish churches.”2

“When Hugh Latimer, first Anglican Bishop of Worcester, preached the Lent sermons in 1549 at St. Margaret’s, Westminster, his language was so coarse and abusive against the Catholic religion that those present who maintained it cried out in condemnation ; but this foul-mouthed preacher reiterated his slanders in language still more coarse and with energy still more furious. There was a free fight consequently ; heads were bruised and pews and glass broken. The riot was only quelled by some pikemen”3

Hooper, first Anglican Bishop of Gloucester, bears evidence to the love of Englishmen for the old religion, its doctrines and its practices, when he writes in one of his letters as follows : “ The impious Mass, the most shameful celibacy of the clergy, the invocation of saints, auricular confession, superstitions, abstinence from meats, and purgatory were never before held by the people in greater esteem than at the present moment.”4

When the insurgents of Devonshire (1549) had risen in arms in defence of the old faith they declared in their petition, “We will not receive the new service, because it is but like a Christmas game, but we will have our old service of Matins, Mass, Evensong and Procession in Latin as it was before.”5 In this same year we find Sir William Paget, a shrewd statesman of his day, writing as follows : “ The use of the old religion [Catholic] is forbidden, the use of the new [Anglican] is not printed in the stomachs of eleven of twelve parts of the realm.”6

There is nothing more touching than to read the records of the determined attempts of our English fore-fathers to save the old faith. No less than eleven of the southern counties rose in defence of the old religion. From the western and midland counties the insurrection spread to the East, and in Wiltshire three serious outbreaks of popular indignation could only be sup-pressed by a wholesale slaughter. Oxfordshire, Devon-shire and Norfolk lost large numbers in defence of their faith. “Ab Ulmis” writes as follows : “The Oxford-shire papists are at last reduced to order, many of them having been apprehended and some gibbeted and their heads fastened to the walls.”7 “Whilst life and limb remained they [Catholics] fought with a fury and intrepidity which drew from Lord Grey the observation that he had never seen the like in any of his foreign wars. The overthrow was total ; where they fought they fell, and a few were left alive to tell to others the tale of their disastrous fortune.”1

1 Lee, King Ed. VI, 121.

2 Gairdner, Hist. Engl. Church, p. 303

3 Lee, King Ed. VI, 112.

4 Hooper to Henry Bullinger, Jan. 27, prob. 1548.

5 Strype, Cranmer, vol. 11, p. 826, ed. 1812.

6 Froude, vol. v, p. 121.

7 Original Letters, p. 391.

CHAPTER III

The brief return of the Church of England to communion with the Church of Rome.

QUEEN MARY, a fervent Catholic, succeeded her brother as sovereign of England on July 6, 1553, and her first thoughts were directed to the reconciliation of England to the See of Rome.

This happy event took place on St. Andrew’s Day, 1554. In the House of Lords a petition for reunion with the Church of Rome was read by the Lord Chancellor, the Bishop of Winchester, to Queen Mary and her husband, King Philip of Spain.

The words of the petition ran as follows :

“We, the Lords Spiritual and Temporal and the Commons assembled in this present Parliament, representing the whole body of the realm of England, . . . do declare ourselves very sorry and repentant of the schism and disobedience committed in this realm and dominions aforesaid, . . . offering ourselves . . . to do that shall lie in us for repealing of the laws and ordinances [against the supremacy of the See of Rome], and desire that we may obtain from the Apostolic See . . . absolution and release from all danger of such censures and sentences as we may have fallen into . . . and as children repentant be received into the bosom and unity of Christ’s Church. . . .”2

Cardinal Pole, the Papal Legate, then rose from his chair and pronounced the formal absolution ; while the King and Queen and all present fell on their knees. “ Our Lord Jesus Christ,” said the Cardinal, “ which with His most precious blood hath redeemed and washed us from all our sins and iniquities . . . absolve you ; and we, by apostolic authority given unto us (by our most holy Lord Pope Julius III, his vicegerent on earth), do absolve and deliver you . . from all heresy and schism . . . and also we do restore you again, unto the unity of our Mother the Holy Church. . . . in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost.”3

This absolution being pronounced, both Houses of Parliament answered aloud, ‘ Amen, amen.’ Then rising up many of them were seen to embrace and congratulate with one another, with tears in their eyes for joy of so happy a deliverance.”4

We may feel sure that none will have rejoiced more on that happy day than the English episcopate, who, excepting a few, were at heart sincere Catholics, though through fear of death they had taken the oath in which the King was accepted as the head of the Church of England.

Dr. Scott, Bishop of Chester, one of those who had been induced to take the oath of supremacy to King Henry, has left on record his testimony to the grief with which he and his fellow-bishops looked back to their fall, and atoned for it as far as they could by re-signing their sees rather than again disgrace themselves by taking the said oath on the accession to the throne of Queen Elizabeth.

“It is alleged,” he said, speaking from his seat in the House of Lords, “ that there was a Provincial

Council or Assembly of bishops and clergy of this realm of England [in 1534] by which the authority of the Bishop of Rome was abolished and disannulled, which some inculcate against us as a matter of much weight and authority, whereas in very deed it was to be taken for small authority or none. For firstly, we know that particular or provincial councils can make no determination against the universal Church of Christ. Secondly, of learned men that were doers then, so many as be dead, before they died were penitent and cried, ‘God’s mercy!’ for that act, and those that do live, as your Lordships know, have openly revoked the same and acknowledged their error.”1

1 Memoirs of the House of Russell, vol. 1, pp. 367–8.

2 Dodd, III, p. 550; Foxe, III, p. 90 ed. 1684.

3 Foxe, iii, go.

4 Dodd, Tierney, II p. 62.

Let me conclude these few lines on the last days of Catholic England by quoting the decree of the bishops of England, in their synod, held in the year 1556, not long before the death of Queen Mary, Cardinal Pole, Archbishop of Canterbury, being at the time Papal Legate. “ We lay down,” so the decree runs, “ that the holy Apostolic See and the Roman Pontiff hold the primacy over the whole world, and that the Roman Pontiff in his own person is the successor of the Blessed Peter, the Prince of the apostles, and is the true Vicar of Christ, the head of the Church, and the father and instructor of all Christians ; and that to him, in the person of the Blessed Peter, was granted by the Lord Jesus Christ the full power of feeding, ruling and directing the whole Church, as is also contained in the acts of the oecumenical councils and in the sacred canons.” 2

This then was the profession of faith of the bishops of England of those days when no longer under fear of death.

CHAPTER IV

How the Church of England was definitely separated from the Catholic Church-Action of the Catholic Clergy.

No doubt the less educated classes of non-Catholics in England are much impressed by the fact that the bishops and clergymen of the Church of England are in possession of the many magnificent cathedrals and parish churches which date back so many centuries. “They consequently take for granted that the Church which possesses them at the present day is the Church that built them in olden days. A moment’s reflection, however, ought to show the thoughtful reader that this is not so, and that the fact of the Church of England being in possession of the cathedrals and old parish churches in England does not in the least go to prove that she is in lawful possession of the same. Suppose I were bid by a tyrannical king or queen to take violent possession of somebody’s house or property or revenues, and, moreover, were to call myself by his family name or title, would this make me the lawful possessor of the goods thus seized? and would his descendants recognize my descendants as representing his ancestry? Certainly not, you would reply.

Turn, then, to the pages of history, and read how the bishops of old England were driven from their sees by Queen Elizabeth, and how she appointed men to fill them who rejected the faith which till that period had been held by the people of England. The last Catholic bishop of the sixteenth century was Thomas Goldwell, Bishop of St. Asaph, who died in exile on April 3, 1585, and since the English schism none but Anglican bishops have occupied our Catholic Sees. But let history tell its sad story. from the commencement of the reign of Queen Elizabeth.

1558. November 17, Queen Mary died, and was succeeded by her sister Elizabeth, who was crowned Queen of England on January 15, 1559. When, shortly before her death, Queen Mary had sent to ask her whether she was true to the Catholic faith, she replied by “ praying God that the earth might swallow her up alive if she were not a true Roman Catholic.”3

1 Strvpe, Annals, III, 204 sq.

2 Wilkins, IV, 125.

3 H. Clifford, Life of Duchess of Feria, Lingard, History of England, vol. v, p. 258.

The sincerity of Elizabeth may well be questioned when we see with what zeal she proceeded to undo the work that had been effected during her sister’s short reign.

It would be too long for the space at our disposal to give a detailed account of the struggle of the Catholics of England headed by their bishops to resist the Bill which was to make the Queen the head of the Church in England. The members returned to sit in this memorable session of 1559 were by no means men who represented the real feelings of Englishmen of those times. The envoy of Mantua, Schifanoya, has left some important particulars, recently brought to light, bearing upon the condition of religion at the accession of Elizabeth to the throne ; and he may well be sup-posed to have had opportunities to arrive at accurate. information. “ Although,” he writes (p. 53), “ the Protestants increase in numbers, they are not so powerful as the Catholics, who comprise all the chief personages of the kingdom with great power in their counties and many followers ; the greater part of the common people out of London in several provinces are much attached to the Roman Catholic religion.” “ The Mass is said in all the churches, the Host being elevated as usual in the presence of numerous congregations who show much devotion. . . . All the clergy are united, though some will perhaps change their minds.”1

But the system under which the elections were carried out was most ill-suited to produce a Parliament which was to declare by its votes whether the people of England wished their Church to be again cut off from the See of Rome. We know that the Crown sent to the voters the names of five persons from whom one was to be elected, and to the sheriffs who had the right to elect a member of Parliament three names were likewise forwarded. It was obligatory on them to choose one of the three. Of course by thus packing Parliament with anti-Catholic members, the Queen and her counsellors obtained what they wanted. It has been left on record by a contemporary writer that of the two hundred members returned to represent the nation at the opening of Parliament under Queen Elizabeth, only ten were known to be loyal to the old religion.2

In the House of Lords the majority of the peers were still Catholics, but the fear of incurring the displeasure of their new sovereign seems to have powerfully influenced their votes. “The Lords temporal,” we are told by the aforesaid writer, had nothing to say on any point. Though they confessed that they admired the wisdom and learning of the bishops, yet they always dissented from them, their reason being no other than this-that the Queen, so they understood, wished otherwise.”3 The Archbishop of Canterbury was dead, but all the Catholic bishops, headed by the Archbishop of York, voted against the Bill which was to abolish once more the Pope’s authority in England. “ By forsaking the See of Rome,” exclaimed the Archbishop, as if foreseeing the future history of the Church of England, “ we hazard ourselves to be overwhelmed in the waves of schism, of sects and divisions.” But in the end the Crown was victorious. By a packed party in the “ beardless Parliament and a majority of one voice in the House of Lords, from which by threats and cajolery she (Elizabeth) had caused the chief Catholic nobles to absent themselves, against the unanimous decision of the bishops and the expressed wishes of Convocation, she substituted the Anglican establishment for the Catholic Church.4

In January of 1559 the Queen caused to be re-enacted by Parliament the oath of supremacy which Mary had repealed. It was to be taken by “ all and every bishop and all and every ecclesiastical person and other ecclesiastical officer and minister, of what estate, dignity, pre-eminence or degree soever he or they may or shall be, and all and every temporal officer and judge, justice, mayor and other lay or temporal officer and minister, and every person having your Majesty’s fee or wages within this realm, or any of your Highness’s dominions.” The oath is as follows : “ I, A.B., do utterly testify and declare in my conscience that the Queen’s Highness is the only supreme governor of this realm, and of all other her Majesty’s dominions and countries as well in spiritual or ecclesiastical things or causes as temporal, and that no foreign prince, person, state or potentate has or ought to have any jurisdiction, power, superiority, pre-eminence or authority, ecclesiastical or spiritual, within this realm ; and therefore I do utterly renounce, forsake all foreign jurisdiction, powers, superiorities and authorities. . . . So help me, God, and by the contents of this book [the Gospels].”1

1 State Papers, Fenetian Calendar, p. 28.

2 Sanders, De Schismate, Lewis’s trans., p. 254.

3 Sanders to Card. Moroni, MS., Vatican Archives, arm. 64, vol. XXVIII, p. 2J9.

4 Simpson’s Life of Campion, p. 5.

Once more England was in schism; but this time the bishops of England were not to be intimidated. They had learnt by sad experience how dangerous a thing it was to temporize in hopes of appeasing an unscrupulous sovereign. Hence of all the bishops only Kitchen of Llandaff and Stanley of Sodor and Man could be induced to take the oath just referred to.

Shortly after, an “Act for the Uniformity of Common Prayer and Service in the Church and Administration of the Sacraments “ was passed. In force of this Act the Catholic service known as the Mass was once more abolished ; and with some slight modifications the Communion Service as drawn up in 1552,t in the Book of Common Prayer, was henceforward to be used throughout England.

Of the twenty-seven bishoprics of England, ten became vacant by the death of those who held them before Elizabeth commenced the work of rooting up the old religion. The following is the list of these ten vacant sees : Canterbury, Rochester, Bristol, Salisbury, Chichester, Hereford, Oxford, Gloucester, Bangor and Norwich. Fifteen of the seventeen bishops then living were deposed by the Queen before December 29, 1559, and men who would accept the new religion were appointed in their place (as also to the aforesaid vacant sees)-Kitchen of Llandaff and Thomas Stanley of Sodor and Man alone retaining their sees, being willing to conform.

The names of the Catholic bishops deposed by Elizabeth are as follows : Nicolas Heath, Archbishop of York ; Cuthbert Tunstall, Bishop of Durham ; Edmund Bonner, Bishop of London ; John White, Bishop of Winchester ; Richard Tate, Bishop of Worcester ; James Turberville, Bishop of Exeter ; Thomas Watson, Bishop of Lincoln ; David Pole, Bishop of Peterborough ; Gilbert Bourn, Bishop of Bath and Wells ; Ralph Bayne, Bishop of Coventry and Lichfield ; Thomas Thirlby, Bishop of Ely ; Cuthbert Scott, Bishop of Chester ; Henry Morgan, Bishop of St. David’s ; Thomas Goldwell, Bishop of St. Asaph ; Owen Oglethorpe, Bishop of Carlisle. We are told that some of these bishops were kept in strict confinement, others were prisoners at large, and others went abroad, namely, the Bishops of Chester, Worcester and St. Asaph.2

Historical evidence goes to show that the clergy of England followed the example of their bishops, and as a body refused to accept the new religion. Jewel, the Anglican Bishop of Salisbury, in a letter to Peter Martyr, an apostate friar, wrote as follows, August 1, 1559: “ Now that religion is everywhere changed, the Mass-priests [Catholic priests] absent themselves altogether from public worship, as if it were the greatest impiety to have anything in common with the people of God [Anglicans].”3 Strype, the well-known historian of those days, tells us that “ the popish priests, that is the majority of them, utterly refuse to assist “ [at the Anglican services.]4 Lawrence Vaux, the last warden of the Collegiate Church of Manchester (November 2, 1566), bears evidence to the horror with which the Catholic clergy looked upon the services prescribed in the Book of Common Prayer. “ There is,” he says, “ not one of the old bishops or godly priests of God that will be present at the schismatic .or damnable communion now used ; for the which cause they have lost their livings. “Some be in corporal prison, some in exile, and like good pastors be ready to suffer death . . . and, thanks be to God, a number not only of the clergy but as well the temporality [laymen] . . . do follow their bishops constantly, and will in no wise come to the schismatical service.”1

1 Gee and Hardy, Documents, p. 449. f First edition published 1549.

2^1.c. ; cf. Zurich Letters, 1st series, n. 33 and 35.

3 1.c. n. 16.

4 Annals, c. xi. ; cf. Wood, Fasti Oxon. A.D. 1562.

In the visitation of the province of York in August and September, 1559, out of ninety clergymen summoned to take the Oath of Supremacy only twenty-one came and took it.2 In the province of Canterbury the dean and canons of Winchester Cathedral, the warden and fellows of the college and the master of St. Cross all refused the oath.3 Out of 8,911 parishes and 9,400 beneficed clergymen only 806 subscribed.4 Archbishop Parker had instructions “not to push any one to extremities on account of his oath” ;5 and the presence of Catholic priests who had been ordained before the accession of Queen Elizabeth was largely connived at by the Government as being so numerous. It was only gradually that they were removed to make way for men who were willing to conform to the requirements of the new Church.

Thomas Lever, writing July 10, 1560, says, “Many of our parishes have no clergymen, and some dioceses are without a bishop, and out of the very small number who administer the sacraments throughout this great country there is hardly one in a hundred who is both able and willing to preach the word of God.” The Anglican Bishop Jewel writing to Peter Martyr, November 6, 1560, says, “We are only wanting in preachers, and of these there is a great and alarming scarcity. The schools also are entirely neglected.”6

The vast majority of the clergy ‘of England were as loyal to the old religion as were the bishops. They would not be severed from the Apostolic See by renouncing their allegiance to the Pope in spiritual matters ; nor would they accept the Thirty-nine Articles of the Anglican Church or use the Book of Common Prayer. They were consequently dismissed from their respective parishes, and their places filled as far as possible with men willing to conform to the requirements of the Church henceforth to be known as the “Church of England.” Some went to live in foreign countries, many are known to have found employment as chaplains to Catholic noblemen and country gentlemen, to whose children in many cases they acted as tutors. Another and a still larger portion of the clergy quietly withdrew of their own accord to their homes. The policy of the Government was to leave them unmolested, and to trust to death gradually to remove them.

It must, however, be admitted that a certain number of the clergy fell away from the old religion and con-formed, at least outwardly, to the new order of things -some because they had not the courage to sacrifice their worldly interests to those of God ; others in con-forming excused themselves with the hope that matters would eventually right themselves, as had happened after the death of Edward VI. They fondly hoped that Elizabeth, once firmly settled on the throne, would cease to persecute the upholders of the faith of her forefathers.

Meanwhile many were the parishes without any one to attend to the spiritual wants of the people, for as yet the number of ministers of the new Church was not sufficient to replace the Catholic priests. Hence Hallam says that “for several years it was the common practice to appoint laymen, usually mechanics, to read the service in the vacant churches.” It seems certain that in not a few cases laymen were suffered to act as clergy. This abuse had reached such a pitch that in 1571 Grindal, Archbishop of Canterbury, laid it down that we do enjoin and straightly command that from henceforward no parish clerk, nor any other person not being ordained at least for a deacon, shall presume to solemnize matrimony, or to minister the sacrament of baptism, or to deliver to the communicants the Lord’s cup at the celebration of the holy communion.”7

1 See Rambler, December, 1857.

2 S.P.O. Dom. Eliz. vol. x.

3 S.P.O. Dom. June 30, 1559.

4 S.P.O. Dom. Eliz. vol. cv1, n. 7 ; and Camden, Eliz. 1, 32.

5 Strype, Parker, p. 125.

6 Zurich Letters, 1st series, n. 35.

7 Grindal’s Injunctions.

What was the mind of the educated classes as re-presented by the universities of Oxford and Cambridge may be gathered from reliable writers of those days. Anthony Wood assures us that “ in the beginning of the reign of Elizabeth the University of Oxford was so empty after the Roman Catholics had left it upon the alteration of religion that there was very seldom a sermon preached in the University Church called St. Mary.”1

“There was not then “(1564), writes the same author, “one in that society [of Merton College] that could or would preach any public sermon in the College turn ; such was the scarcity of theologists, not only in that house, but generally throughout the University [of Oxford].”2

The heads of the colleges which compose the University of Oxford, on being called upon to acknowledge the Queen as supreme governor of the Church in England in place of the Pope, refused to do so, and were at once removed from their respective posts. They deserve to have their names handed down to posterity : Marshall, Dean of Christchurch ; Reynolds, Warden of Merton ; Coveney, President of Magdalen ; Cheadsey, President of Corpus Christi ; Wright, Master of Balliol ; Hodgson, Provost of Queen’s ; Hernshaw, Rector of Lincoln ; Hythurst, President of Trinity ; Belsire, President of St. John’s ; Marshall, Principal of St. Alban’s Hall ; Holland, Warden of All Souls ; and Drysale, Master of University College. Most of these sufferers for the old faith retired to Gloucester Hall, where, with many others who refused to embrace the new religion, they were allowed to remain unmolested, at least for some few years. . Many fellows and members of the university followed the example of the heads of their respective colleges, and were consequently called upon to resign their offices ; those who refused to do so were ejected.

Referring to Catholics in the University of Oxford who were conspicuous for their loyalty to the old religion, Wood tells us that twenty-two persons of note [in 1560] were ejected out of New College or left their places ; seven out of St. John’s ; and a great number out of St. Mary Magdalen, Lincoln and Trinity.3

In Exeter College as late as 1578 there were not above four Protestants out of eighty, “all the rest were secret or open Roman affectionaries. These chiefly came from the West, where popery greatly prevailed, and the gentry were bred up in that religion.”4

We can well believe that there was a great scarcity of able men to be found in Oxford now that the services of Catholics were to be dispensed with, for Bishop jewel had only a few months before written to the Queen (May 22, 1559) the following account of Catholicity in that university : “ Our universities are in a most lamentable condition ; there are not above two in Oxford of our [Church of England] sentiments.”5

Parker, .to whom Elizabeth had given the Arch-bishopric of Canterbury, confirms jewel’s opinion as to the Catholic spirit of the universities. He assures the Queen that there were not “two men able or willing to read the Lady Margaret lecture,” when they had cleared the universities of their ablest men, who were loyal Catholics.

The University of Oxford seems to have upheld the cause of the old religion from the first days of the persecution in the days of Edward VI, for we find already in the year 1550 one of Bullinger’s friends writing to him that “Oxford abounds with those beasts the Romanists,”6 and that “the Oxford men were still pertinaciously sticking in the mud of popery”7 Strype tells us^1 that “the universities were so addicted to popery that for some years few educated in them were ordained.”

1 Athen. Oxon. vol. 1, p. 161, ed. 1721.

2 1c. P.429.

3 Antiq. Oxon. 283 ; cf. 284, 285.

4 Strype, Annals, II, 639.

5 Jewel to Bullinger in Bibl. Tigurina, p. 134.

6 “Ab Ulmis,” p. 464.

7 1.c. p. 291.

The reader should be now in a position to judge for himself of the love of Englishmen for the religion of their forefathers in days gone by. In the case of the vast majority it is correct to say that they did not abandon the old faith, but it was with violence wrenched from their grasp ; and “for three or four generations their descendants preserved the perfume of Rome,” as Cotton quaintly puts it.

Meanwhile England with each year sank deeper into Protestantism, and, as a nation, has continued to be Protestant to the present day.

1 Life of Grindal, p. 50.

How To Act Towards Invalidly Married Catholics

DONALD F. MILLER, C.SS.R

INDEX

Some guiding principles for those who face the too common problem of an invalid marriage in the circle of their family or friends.

ONE of the most common and difficult moral problems that must be faced by Catholics today is that concerning the right attitude to be taken toward Catholics who have publicly renounced the grace of God by entering an invalid marriage. Sometimes parents have to face the problem when a son or daughter takes this fateful step. Other relatives, friends, neighbours, business associates, fellow parishioners, not infrequently run into the same thing. All want an answer to questions like these:”How should we act toward a relative or friend who has chosen to live publicly in a state of sin? Must we avoid them? May we keep up some contact with them? May we or should we help them in any way?”

The problem is so common in this divorce-ridden world of ours, that it needs to be thrashed out as thoroughly as possible. When that is done, it will be seen that some rules can be set down that are very definite and seriously binding in conscience, while other principles must be asserted that leave much to the honest judgment of the individual Catholic in a set of particular circumstances.

This important study will deal, therefore, first, with the difficulties surrounding this touchy problem; second, with certain principles that can be set down; third, with a few practical recommendations.

Let it be noted carefully that we are speaking, not of divorced and remarried persons in general, but of informed Catholics who attempt marriage after a divorce, or with a divorced but validly married person. The principles set down will apply in some measure to Catholics who marry outside the Church, but who could be rightly married before a priest. In this case, however, it is far easier for the sinner to return to the grace of God by having the marriage rectified in the Church, and Catholic friends and relatives will ordinarily concentrate on achieving that end. The difficult cases are those in which a Catholic insists on living as if married to a person with whom there can be no valid marriage in the eyes of God and of His Church. What attitude is to be taken toward such Catholics?

I. THE DIFFICULTIES

ALL the difficulties connected with deciding on a right mode of conduct toward such as these arise from the fact that two different kinds of obligation must be weighed carefully against each other.

A. On the one hand, there is the obligation of not giving scandal by any manifestation or appearance of approval of the invalid marriage.

Scandal is defined as any wrong words, actions, even omissions, that may incite or assist or facilitate or contribute to the sins of others. Note two things in this definition: 1) that it is a wrong or evil word, action or. omission contributing to the sin of another, that carries the stigma of scandal; good or virtuous actions, which someone might twist into their own purposes of evil, are not sins of scandal; 2) that practically any sort of help or encouragement given to another in his sins would involve scandal if it resulted from the bad actions, words or omissions.

In the case of those who commit the great public sin of entering an invalid marriage, and who continue to live in the habitual sins of an invalid marriage, it is entirely sinful to give, before, at, or after the so-called marriage, any sign of approval of the sins. That would be like saying:”I think you are doing the right thing, despite Christ’s clear statement that he who puts away his wife and marries another is guilty of adultery. I accept your marriage, even though I know God cannot accept it, and Christ cannot accept, and the Church cannot accept it.” It is easy to see how such words from a relative or friend, or actions easily interpreted as meaning the same thing, will contribute to and make easier the continuation of the sins of one invalidly married.

There is another reason for the fact that any approval of a Catholic’s bad marriage constitutes scandal. It makes it easier for person not yet married to yield to the temptation, if it arises, of entering a similar sinful and invalid marriage. No one can possibly doubt that the frequency with which this moral tragedy overtakes Catholics today is due in large measure to the fact that many Catholics do in some way give their blessing and approval to such invalid marriages. One can realistically imagine many a Catholic who has fallen in love with a divorced person saying to himself (or herself) :”So-and-so is a Catholic and he married after a divorce, or married a divorced person. He’s getting along fine. All his friends and relatives have accepted his marriage as if it were as good as any other. It won’t be so bad if I do the same thing.”

The danger of such scandal prompted the apostles, in the inspired words of the New Testament, and even Our Lord Himself, to make some stern statements in regard to the treatment of those who publicly renounced Christ and His doctrine. Thus, St. Paul, in 2 Thessalonians, 3/6:”We charge you, brethren, in the name of Our Lord, Jesus Christ, to withdraw yourselves from every brother who lives irregularly, and not according to the teaching received from us.” Again in 3/13 of the same letter,”If anyone does not obey our word by this letter, note that man and do not associate with him, that he may be put to shame. Yet do not regard him as an enemy, but admonish him as a brother.” And St. John, in his second epistle, filled as it is with repetitions of his familiar theme of the necessity of fraternal charity, still has this to say:”Anyone who advances and does not abide in the doctrine of Christ, has not God. . . . If anyone comes to you and does not bring this doctrine, do not receive him into the house, or say to him welcome. For he who says to him welcome, is a sharer in his evil works.”

Our Lord Himself has equally severe words, to be understood always in the light of His great hatred of scandal. Of the offender who, after repeated correction, will not hear the Church, he says,”Let him be to thee as the heathen and the publican.” (Matt. 18/17).

Thus the case for not giving scandal by any sort of approval of the sins of an invalidly married Catholic, must be made very strong. Of course the greatest scandal, and the first scandal, is given by the Catholic who enters the invalid marriage, and thereby sets an evil example that others may follow. It must be the desire and the duty of other Catholics not to increase that scandal by taking sides with the sinner through any show of approval for his sins.

B. On the other hand, this urgent and clear obligation must be weighed against the duty of charity toward sinners. It is an essential part of Catholic teaching that God wants no sinner, not even the greatest, to be lost; that there is hope for every sinner until death has actually sealed his fate forever; that it is the duty of every Catholic to desire, to pray for, and, in so far as he has the power, to work for the conversion of sinners, especially of those to whom he is bound in some way.

The difficulty is to exercise this charity in such a way as to eliminate any real scandal. When it is remembered that scandal is given only when some kind of approval is expressed or manifested for the sin of entering an invalid marriage, certain guiding principles can be set down. But there are always two extremes to be avoided.

The first is that of erroneously making the danger of scandal a reason for cutting off every form of charity to the sinner and thus practically slamming the door against his return to the grace of God. This is sometimes motivated more by selfishness and resentment than by any real spiritual desire to avoid scandal. Thus, a Catholic family, naturally feeling that it has been deeply disgraced by the defection of one of its members who has entered an invalid marriage, might be merely expressing its personal resentment in withholding all signs of charity toward that person. Thus they may so embitter the one fallen, and the illicit partner who may be more or less ignorant of the evil of the marriage, that even if both became free to marry validly, or able in some other way to escape their sinful state, they would not do so.

THE other extreme is to make charity a cloak for so complete and warm-hearted an acceptance of the invalidly married couple that it amounts to approval of the evil itself, encourages them to be content in their sins, and encourages others to commit the same grave sins. All charity toward public sinners of any kind must be inspired and marked by the desire to help them escape from their sins. It is no longer charity, but rather the most terrible form of unkindness, to encourage a person to be satisfied with his sins.

It is obvious, then, from this interplay of various considerations and obligations toward the invalidly married, that the solution of individual cases is not always easily decided upon. To help toward such solutions the following principles are laid down.

II. PRINCIPLES

1. Before a Catholic enters an invalid marriage toward which he seems to be tending, every reasonable effort should be made by relatives and friends to dissuade him (or her) from taking this step.

The obligation mentioned here begins as soon as a Catholic with whom a relative or friend has some influence is seen to be going steady with a person who cannot be married before God. Right here is where many Catholics are guilty of grave sin. Not only do they not warn a close relative or friend against the rising danger of an invalid marriage, but they even promote and encourage regular dates between a couple that cannot validly marry. It is the same kind of grave scandal as to approve or encourage the invalid marriage in which it can so easily result. Few divorced Catholics have not at times been victims of diabolic advice from friends that they should find”a pal (of the opposite sex) and go out and have a good time.” Catholics should not even invite to their homes or their parties other Catholics who they know will be acccompanied by a steady date whom they cannot validly marry.

Besides avoiding such scandal, good Catholics—parents, brothers and sisters, good friends—of one who has started company-keeping with a person who cannot be validly married, will marshal every argument and every bit of influence they possess to save the one whom they love from the great danger in which he has placed himself.

2. It is a mortal sin of scandal for any Catholic to express or show approval of an attempted but invalid marriage of a Catholic.

Certainly this is true of direct words of approval. For one Catholic to say to another who is about to marry a divorced person, or after a divorce,”Even if the Church refuses to accept your marriage, I do,” or, “It’s too bad the Church doesn’t get up to date and recognize marriages like yours,” or, “I don’t blame you for this marriage; you’re in love and that’s all that matters,” is direct approval, direct scandal, clearly mortal sin.

But one can show approval of an invalid marriage without putting it into direct words. Here many Catholics infected with secularism or the world’s un-Christian outlook on things, often fail seriously. The truth is that to take any part in the preparations for and the ceremony and celebration of the invalid marriage of a Catholic is a show of approval and therefore serious scandal. This holds for parents and all members of the immediate family of the one attempting the marriage, as well as for friends.

Thus it would be seriously wrong for Catholics to attend”showers,” engagement parties, pre-wedding dinners for Catholics about to attempt an invalid marriage.

It would be seriously wrong to send wedding presents or congratulatory cards to such persons.

It would be seriously wrong to attend the wedding ceremony, either as a member of the wedding party or as a mere guest, or to go to the breakfast or banquet served after the wedding.

It would be seriously wrong to help the invalidly marrying Catholic to find, rent, buy or furnish living quarters to be used after the wedding.

It would be seriously wrong to offer hospitality, assistance or facilities for the honeymoon of the invalidly married Catholic.

All these actions can be readily recognized as the equivalent of saying to the Catholic who is, according to the words of Christ, entering publicly into a life of sin,”I don’t see anything wrong with what you are doing. May you be most happy in your sins.”

3. After a Catholic has entered and settled down in an invalid marriage, loyal Catholics may not give direct or indirect approval of the situation, but they should be guided by true and sincere charity in the attitude they take toward the person.

The first and most necessary object of all fraternal charity is to help one’s neighbours reach heaven. Scandal is the greatest sin against charity precisely because it means turning a person away from heaven. When the scandal of showing approval of the public sins of another has been diligently avoided, there still remains the duty of doing anything within one’s power to win the person away from his sins and back to the road to heaven.

Thus it must not be thought that in all cases of invalidly married relatives or friends, Catholics should completely ostracize and avoid them. St. Paul, in one of the admonitions quoted above, commands Christians not to look upon sinners as enemies, but rather to admonish them as brothers. There must be a desire for the conversion and salvation of the one gone astray; and prudent means must be used to express and fulfill the desire.

However, circumstances differ so widely in this matter that it is difficult to lay down universal rules. The individual Catholic must himself weigh his obligation not to give scandal against his obligation of charity toward the sinner and make the best decision he can with the help of God’s grace. At the same time, a few sample solutions of the problem may be given. a. Sometimes charity itself will suggest that a most effective way of”admonishing the sinner” (to use St. Paul’s phrase) is to sever all social relations with him (or her). This is true especially in cases where family ties have been strong; where the one entering the invalid marriage had obviously expected family and friends to be just as kind and affectionate after the invalid marriage as before; where it is prudently judged by the family and friends that the rupture of social relations will bring home to the outcast the evil of his state and the desire to escape it. b. Sometimes charity to others than the invalidly married person requires an almost complete break with that person. In a family of many children, in which the oldest married outside the Church (or even in the case of a cousin or uncle or aunt doing the same thing), the mother and father might prudently decide that the surest, and possibly only adequate, way of impressing on the growing and teen-aged children the evil of a bad marriage is to sever relations with the one who chose such a”marriage.” In these cases, too, there is usually a good effect on the latter, in that the sadness of his (or her) spiritual state will be more clearly recognized. c. Sometimes, and here we may say most often, the right program to adopt is that of keeping up a limited contact with the one who has severed himself from the sacraments of the Church, with at least the hope that in due time the person will be willing to accept solid spiritual advice.

We say limited contact, because there always remains the obligation of avoiding any manifest approval of the bad marriage. Thus the family or friends of an invalidly married couple may not invite the latter to occupy a guest room in their house just as any truly married couple might be invited to do. They should not spend vacations with them, thus publicly supporting their pretence of being validly married in the eyes of God.

But apart from such things, a certain amount of social contact may be kept up so long as there is a flicker of hope of being able to help the person spiritually in the end. In such contacts, the friend or relative will use opportunities to urge the invalidly married Catholic to pray daily, to attend Mass, at least on Sundays, to read spiritual books that may eventually provide the motives for a break with sin. It should be remembered that nagging, that is, using every opportunity to berate, condemn and scold the person, will never accomplish much, except perhaps to stiffen him in the rejection of grace.

III. PRACTICAL RECOMMENDATIONS

Catholics should be aware that this problem is one on which they are bound to be misunderstood and misinterpreted by many non-Catholics. They will be accused, even when they do what their consciences dictate, of adopting a”holier-than-thou” attitude, of being intolerant and bigoted and hypocritical, of proudly sitting in judgment on sinners.

None of these charges will be justified, and none should be worried about, if they keep clearly in mind their own spiritual objectives. They want to prevent sin, and that is why they must not give the scandal of showing any approval of what Christ (not they) called a sinful and invalid marriage. They want to save sinners, and that is why they do what they think best to bring about the conversion of anyone who has publicly renounced Christ’s teaching about marriage.

Three recommendations are offered to Catholics who face the problem of dealing with invalidly married Catholics.

1. Be humble. Remember your own sins, which Christ has forgiven. Be mindful that you, too, might have severed yourself publicly from Christ’s Church, except for His grace. Suppress personal resentment and anger based on a feeling that you have been disgraced by the action of one dear to you. Think often of this: If you had been a truer and a better loved one or friend, you might have prevented the tragedy that occurred.

2. Explain your position simply and clearly to the invalidly married relative or friend, and to others who have a right and a need to know. When you have charted your course according to the principles set down in this article, let it be known, and with it your sole desire to help the wanderer back into the fold of Christ.

3. In doubt, lean to the side of kindness. Let there be no room in your heart for personal bitterness, the least tinge of contempt for any sinner, the slightest pretext of making a final judgment. Give no scandal of approval of a bad marriage, but in all other things let kindness reveal your desire for the salvation of one who has turned away from Christ and His sacraments for the love of a human being. Never stop praying for that soul, never stop hoping for its salvation; never stop looking for an opportunity to help it back to the fold of Christ.

********

How To Be A Real Father

INDEX

A REAL FATHER, WHEN ALL IS SAID AND DONE, IS A SELF UNMADE MAN

His goal in life is to attain the status of a nobody.

The achievement at which he aims is to be no longer needed.

His usefulness is complete when he has become, to all appearances, useless.

His work, then, is done-and done superbly well.

All this may seem odd, but it isn’t odd at all.

Everybody who is at the head of anything ought to be able to agree with it, and to say,”That’s the story of my life.” And a father, after all, is at the head of the most fundamentally important thing on earth. The family. George Washington could count his job finished when the nation he fathered was ready to go on without him. It’s that way with a father. When the family can do just fine without him, he has made the grade. He has risen to the highest height of fatherhood.

He is ready to join the eternal Father, and be congratulated for having made himself utterly unimportant. That is the importance of fatherhood, to become less and less important until one is not important at all. There is really nothing new in this. It has been perceived by all truly great men.

They were greatest when they had made themselves least.

Christ said it:”The last shall be first.” St. John the Baptist realized it: “I must decrease, Christ must increase.”

SAINT MAKER

It is the essence of the lives of all the saints. And a saint is what a father should be, so that his children will see how t o be saints too.

That’s what fatherhood is for-to make saints.

The father, everybody says, is the head of the family.

But St. Paul puts that leadership in proper perspective.

A husband, says Paul, is to love his wife as Christ loved the Church, delivering Himself up for it.

What goes for the wife goes, of course, for the children.

A father is to love his family as Christ loved the Church.

He’s the family head, all right, as Christ is head of the Church-but that means he’s to serve the family as Christ served the Church.

He is to be, in other words, a saint.

The father, of course, starts somewhere down the ladder of sanctity, and climbs up.

It takes time. But he”s got a head start.

He gets his start through baptism and the other sacraments, and especially through the marriage sacrament.

His wife confers that on him, and he confers it on her.

He doesn’t “get married”-and neither does she.

He and she marry.

It’s not something passive; it’s something active.

When the bridegroom and the bride walk down the aisle, they are a couple of priests approaching the altar to consecrate each other.

A priest at the altar says,”This is My Body,” and Christ is present in the sacrament of Communion.

A bridegroom and a bride say,”I take thee,” and Christ is present in the sacrament of marriage.

A LIFE OF PRAYER

Then the husband and the wife walk out of the church to see each other through life to eternal life -to people heaven with themselves, and in most cases with children.

Their life together is to be a prayer-a sacrament; a sacramental way of life, as a priest’s life is a sacramental way.

Their union of souls is a prayer, and their union of bodies is a prayer too.

They rise into very high prayer when they bring forth a child for God, and rear it for God.

They give God a great gift, as He gives them a great gift. And they give their child the gift of existence and of eternal destiny with God.

Their child is a birthday present to itself, to themselves, and to God.

The father is the person who watches over all these treasures through the years.

He watches for God-and God helps him watch.

If he walks the floor with baby, he is walking the floor for God.

God loves baby boundlessly more than he does-boundlessly more even than its mother does.

And God has all eternity in which to thank the father for watching over their baby-God’s baby, father’s baby, mother’s baby.

God will do that. God won’t forget the sleepless hours, the going to work and coming home, the do-it-yourselfing to provide what the mother and children need, the sacrificing to feed and clothe and educate the little ones.

God won’t forget one bit of it-not any more than He forgets what the Virgin Mary and St. Joseph did for His onlybegotten Son.

He’ll never forget the man who stands in His place in a home, exercising His Fatherhood over one or more of His children.

Especially He won’t forget the father who, understanding the paradox and the mystery of fatherhood, works to make himself less and less until at last he is nothing-at which point he is really something.

There was a little girl-oh, well, she’s my daughter-who thought her father could do practically anything, as if he were nearly almighty like God.

She burst into tears and went stomping into the house from the back-yard once because her father wouldn’t catch a robin in his hands for her to play with.

She didn’t understand that it wasn’t a case of wouldn’t but a case of couldn’t.

Her father tried to explain, but failed. After all, wasn’t he her father? And can’t fathers do anything they set their minds to?

So, stomping into the house she went, to tell her mother that her father wouldn’t even catch a little old robin for her.

The little girl is a Sister now. She knows now that there are lots of things a father can’t do. And she no longer needs her father as she did in her catch-me-a-robin days.

THEY DECREASE

Her father and mother have brought her to the point where they are no longer necessary to her. Nice to have, yes -but not necessary.

They are decreased, Christ has increased.

There was a little boy-oh, well, he’s our son-who was annoyed because his father wouldn’t reach up and pluck the moon out of the sky and give it to him.

He didn’t understand that it wasn’t a matter of wouldn’t, but a matter of couldn’t.

He thought his father was holding out on him.

Now he’s living in the sacrament of marriage, and he has sons of his own, and his father is no longer as indispensable as before. Nice to have, yes-but not necessary, as he once was.

Father is decreasing, Christ is increasing.

That, then, is what a father is-a man growing greater and greater by making himself smaller and smaller. How, specifically, does he go about it?

What do marriage and fatherhood do to him?

And what does he do with his marriage? The two things go together; they interact.

If a man is basically sound-and most men are-marriage makes him humble and realistic and dedicated. It transforms, little by little, his male egoism and his pride in his own strength into humility and dependence on God.

It begins this process when he sits waiting, helpless, as his wife goes through childbirth. It begins it also through the gentle but persistent influence of his beloved.

Marriage, too, washes away gradually the vanities and trivialities of young malehood.

A husband-father slowly turns his interest from himself to those who look to him for protection.

Where he could not be overcome by strength, but would fight strength with his own strength, he is powerless to resist the appeal of helplessnes.

A baby can do to him what a squad of policemen couldn’t.

From demanding to be served, he turns to wanting to serve. And in serving he grows in spiritual stature and real manliness.

He sees first, naturally enough, the material needs that must be met.

ON TIPTOE

Someone has said that St. Thomas Aquinas saw the father of a man forever standing on tiptoe, trying to peer into the future in order to provide for those for whom he is responsible.

He is a bread-winner. As we say, he brings home the bacon.

Shelter, food, clothing for his family-this is his first concern; for these he will labour and plan and sweat and endure humiliations-and even fight.

Seldom does he stop to realize how approvingly God looks down upon his strivings and his sacrifices for God’s little ones. But God does.

Standing on tiptoe, the father tries to put something away for the time of need. There is a vivid expression for this-he makes himself”insurance-poor.”

The truth is, of course, that he is trying to make his family insurance-secure.

Standing beside the cradle-on tiptoe-he looks ahead to the baby’s college years, and its early years of marriage.

He thinks, too, of the unpredictability of life. He may fall ill, he may be injured, he may die. He sets up safeguards as well as he is able.

He recognizes, too, that the years are short; soon enough he and his wife will reach advanced years. He wants savings, he wants modest investments, he wants a pension.

He stands on tiptoe and plans and plans.

“Sometimes there is a failure of understanding between him and his wife.

Perhaps she looks more to the present and does not realize his feel for the future.

They may disagree because she wants furniture and he wants insurance or money at interest or a business of his own or a sound investment.

She wants better clothing for the children while he is thinking about their education, and about a nest-egg for them when they are ready to go into the world.

Here the father must be patient, wise, good-humoured but reasonably firm. And he must try to communicate something of his vision to his wife and the older children.

The needs she sees are real, as are the needs he sees.

THE BEST BALANCE

He must strive for the best possible balance, and for amicable agreement on what that balance is. Sometimes he must yield, recognizing that the joy she receives from a set of drapes or a new rug is more important at the moment than another deposit in the savings account.

It is all a matter of proportion; and the husband-father must strive for correct proportion -not mathematically correct, but reasonably so.

As he matures, the good father perceives needs beyond those of the material sort-and sees that these other needs are even more important.

Prayer, for instance.

His life is in the hands of God. So is his safety, and the safety of his home and family, and the stability of the civilization in which he works.

Very likely the father begins by becoming personally more and more prayerful; but soon he seeks to draw his children into his prayerfulness.

He sees that he has a responsibility for their spiritual care as well as for their material needs.

He begins deepening his awareness of God, and his knowledge of the things of God, because he wants to impart them to his little ones.

NEW ADMIRATION

All this time, the husband, almost always, grows more admirable and lovable in the eves of his wife. Nothing attracts the normal woman more than goodness, character, dependability, and the things that grow out of real goodness-courtesy, consideration, understanding, and above all, tenderness.

It is a rare woman who does not respond to tenderness as a flower to the sun; who is not made singingly happy by strength united with gentleness in her husband.

After all, he is hers; she wants to be proud of him, to look up to him, to admire him, to know that others are touched and impressed by his qualities.

The father who turns to prayer and to the sources of grace in the sacraments discovers-especially if he does it while his children are still young-that he is loved and respected and imitated, and that his home life grows happier.

He finds that there is no need for shouting or striking or severe discipline.

A child, like a wife, responds to goodness and kindness. And kindness and goodness, once begun in a home, are passed along through the generations, with incalculable benefit to the world.

A father, then, is a bringer-home of bacon. But he is also an educator, a religious inspirer, a theologian who must know and teach about God and the things of God.

He is a diplomat, too-a kind of statesman who negotiates for peace and harmony in the world of the home.

He is so many things that a listing would grow tedious.

But, above all, the father is an example.

It is impossible to exaggerate how impressionable young people are. Their eyes and ears and sensitivities are wide open.

Their attitude towards sex, for instance, will be profoundly affected by what they perceive and sense in their father and mother.

If they live in an atmosphere of purity of speech and attitude and behaviour, purity will be a shiningly attractive thing to them.

If they see a tenderness amounting to reverence between their father and mother, at least half the battle for their own success in marriage will have been won, hands down.

A daughter whose father is considerate of her mother will seek a considerate husband for herself when the times comes. She will not be drawn to one who is crude, boastful, overbearing, thoughtless, even cruel.

A son whose father treats his mother with chivalry will treat his wife so, almost invariably, and will have therefore a happy marriage.

GIVE AND TAKE

These things go down the generations.

A father and mother who are kind to their own parents, and patient with them as they grow dependent with age, will al. most certainly receive kindness from their own children in their own advancing years.

The good father, then, is a man who rules by serving, and through service creates a splendid world not only for his wife and his little ones, but for himself too.

He does not, for instance, arbitrarily decide that his son shall be a doctor or lawyer or plumber or engineer or electrician or farmer or whatever.

In prayer and in patient observation, he studies his boys. What he wants for them is whatever God made them for- whatever their abilities and talents and inclinations suggest as most suitable for them.

It is so, too, with his daughters. He does not push them into occupations or careers, nor try to choose their husbands for them.

What he does do is to create, as far as it is within his power, conditions in which they will come under the best influences, and meet the most desirable people-desirable not for wealth or position, but for character and virtue.

The wise father will set before his children the various possibilities for the future, urging that all the possibilities be considered.

Yes, it may be that his son would make an excellent politician or statesman or businessmen or industrialists or agriculturists or carpenter or whatever.

But the wise father does not leave out of consideration what is called the religious life. The Religious life is brought into consideration along with the other vocations and avocations.

What the wise father wants is what is best for his sons and daughters-not what might cater to his pride or his ambition.

From the first toddling steps his little ones take, the wise father begins to help them grow away from dependence on him, and toward self-determination, although always under God.

He does not cling to them or make them instruments of his self-esteem; and if his wife shows a tendency to apronstring them, he acts diplomatically and gradually to correct it.

THE SUBLIME MODEL

The father will pause sometimes to consider St. Joseph.

There is a sublime model of father-hood on earth.

There is a silent sermon on fatherhood which is greater and more inspiring than any words.

Joseph was chosen by God to stand in God’s place toward God-made-man.

God, to put the matter strikingly, gave His fatherhood over Himself into the hands of Joseph.

Joseph was father of Christ in all but physical generation. His dedication to Mary and Jesus was total and totally unselfish.

He is the ever-lasting reminder of the fact that fatherhood is a lifelong affair; that it consists of immeasurably more than physical generation.

God, in effect, said to Joseph:”I am coming to earth and to humanity through a Virgin, and I am placing her and Myself in your hands, to be fed, sheltered, clothed, protected from harm, given security and love and courtesy. I am going to look to you to train my hands, to be my companion, to warn Me away from dangers, to watch over Me as I grow from infancy to boyhood, and from boyhood to adolescence and young manhood. I will even ask you questions about Myself as God, and in My humanity I will depend upon you for wise and true answers.”

SIMPLE TASK

In some ways, Joseph’s task was simple-as are the tasks of all fathers-although always more or less demanding. First came the physical needs of the Holy Family.

To meet those needs, Joseph had prepared himself.

He was a worker-a skilled worker-an artisan and a mechanic, a man who could turn his hand to the making of useful things, and the repairing of broken things.

Joseph was a little capitalist, too; doubtless he owned his tiny workshop and the tools of his trade. And he must have saved some money.

He was a manager-at the very least, he had one helper, one”employee,” Christ, who must be directed and taught and supervised. There was at least that much management-labour relations involved.

Joseph must have kept some records-about what jobs had been agreed upon, which had been done, which had been paid for. And to some extent, he certainly bargained about his wages; he set prices for his services, and collected his pay.

He got up in the morning and went to work like any father.

But as any father worthy of the name must be, Joseph was much more than a provider of material goods.

He was “a man on tiptoe,” a man peering into the future, a man guarding against dangers to his family, a man turning to God for guidance in the perplexities of life.

He was humble, patient, courteous, considerate, quick to love and praise, slow to blame and condemn.

When it seemed that Mary was improperly with child, Joseph did not utter a word of judgement or reproach.

He sat down and thought about the problem in all kindness, and concluded that since be could not, in fidelity to his own vow of virginity, marry one who appeared to have betrayed the same vow, he must quietly step out of the picture. But he kept an open mind and sought guidance in prayer.

The guidance was given to him.

When the Christ Child was in danger, Joseph turned again to God with confidence. And in a dream he was warned to flee into Egypt.

God’s providence for fathers does not often take the form of warnings in dreams. But the providence is there; God in his Fatherhood has a special tenderness for fathers, and hears their prayers.

Indeed, this is the foremost need of a family-the prayers of the father; for those are the prayers that most affect the whole life of the family, not only by bringing God’s blessing, but by making a man the kind of father whose example and influence make the family all that it ought to be.

MANY ASSISTANTS

In the business of being a father today, a man has a thousand helpers whose assistance, if it is accepted, make his task easier.

He has his pastor and his parish and his school. He has the community. He has doctors and nurses and hospitals and clinics. He has newspapers and radio and TV to keep him informed of needs and dangers and of ways of meeting them.

He has government watching over the common good. He has the police and the firemen guarding against lawlessness and disaster. He has the corner drug store, the merchant who provides pure and healthful foods.

Here again, the list could grow tedious. It is enough to say that a father should notice how much help is “at hand, and be grateful for it, and turn to it when needful.

When he is at a loss for what to do in a perplexity or an emergency, there are all kinds of skilled helpers and counsellors.

The father is by no means alone.

It could honestly be said that he is surrounded by a vast conspiracy of kindness to assist him in rearing for the future the kind of young men and women the world needs.

The conspiracy is human-and it is divine too.

No one need be afraid of being a father, or of not being able to be a good father. All that is needed is the will to be all that a father ought to be, and the humility to accept the help that is everywhere.

That done, the man can proceed to make of himself the kind of parent whose children and grandchildren will rise up and call him blessed.

This is the whole matter of marriage and fatherhood goes back, of course, to finding the right girl.

In this connection. the theologian Frank Sheed has remarked, humorously and practically, that marriages are made in Heaven-but matches aren’t.

In one sense, that’s true. In a deeper sense, it’s not a complete statement of the case.

Probably there are thousands of women who could be”the right girl” for a man . . . and visa versa.

And, of course, the choice of partners is largely a human decision, whereas, once the choice is made, the fact enters the picture that marriage is a divine institution and a sacrament.

But God’s providence is in the picture, too, all along.

Providence has a great deal to do with putting people where they are. It has a great deal to do with who mets whom, and in what circumstances.

It certainly has something very important to do with the mysterious attraction of two persons which causes them to want each other for life; to feel that they can make each other happy and cannot be happy without each other.

There is an inexplicable exclusiveness about this matter. This young man wants this young woman for his wife, and no other; and this young woman wants this young man and no other.

So it is, at least, where young men and young women are free to choose for themselves.

There is truth in the poems and the novels and the dramas which have for their central theme this unbreakability of the love of two persons for each other-a love which will consider no substitutes, and is heartbroken if anything interferes.

A GREAT VOCATION

But there is a still deeper aspect.

Marriage is a vocation-a way of life-a means of going to God; and it should no more be chosen without prayer than should the priesthood or the Brotherhood or the Sisterhood . . . or single life in the world.

Like other prayers, prayers for the finding of the right vocation are heard and answered. And if the vocation is marriage, prayers for the right partner are answered also.

Thus marriage, even in its earliest beginnings in dating and courtship, is holy. And why not, seeing that it is all concerned with partnering God in the creation of new immortal beings-with the peopling of earth and Heaven?

Heaven, it would seem, has a hand in matches as well as in marriages.

And there are beginnings before this beginning.

One of the duties of parents is so to rear their boys and girls that they will be good husbands and wives if marriage is their calling.

Included is the duty of parents to pray that their sons and daughters find the right partners when the time comes.

Thus happiness in marriage has roots that go far back-although even the sons and daughters of unhappy and unpraying marriages can, through their own prayers and dedication, create happy marriages for themselves.

They can start a dynasty of happiness if it has not been started for them by their own forebears.

Very well, then; we come to the young man and the young woman who have discovered that they love each other and want to marry.

These are golden days for them-and it is well that it is so. They are young, and life is wonderful, and in each other they find a strange joy.

Good. But amid their rejoicing and their romance, they should occasionally have some deep thoughts.

The boy should ponder the fact that he is about to become not only the head of a family, but the head of a tribe of families.

In all likelihood, he will some day be a grandfather, even while he is living. Maybe even a great grandfather.

His tribe will increase. For no one knows how many years or centuries or aeons after his death, his descendants will be multiplying and spreading through the nation and perhaps across the world.

THE FUTURE

The future of mankind will be profoundly affected by what he and his bride make of their marriage. If they rear their children well, in the love of God and fellowmen-if they educate them and form their characters rightlyhuman history will be influenced for great good. If not, humanity “s tomorrows will be hurt.

That is how important fatherhood and motherhood are.

The effects of good parenthood, furthermore, do not end on earth. They reach into eternity.

The father and mother of the child Mary could not know that their baby would one day be asked to bring God incarnate into the world for the redemption of mankind, and would reply,”Be it done unto me according to Thy word.”

Mary “s parents, like the rest of us, simply accepted their vocation of marriage, lived up to it gloriously, and left the outcome in the hands of God.

No father knows what destiny awaits his sons and daughters. But one thing he can know-and one thing he should deeply realize: each child sent to him has a work to do which is important in the divine plan.

It is his task, and his wife’s, to see that the youngsters are ready for whatever their destiny may be.

Some descendant of yours-or mine-may land upon, and explore, some distant planet, and sow the seeds of some tremendous new civilization.

Or some other descendant may lead a simple, hidden life which through God’s grace is even more influential for the future of the race.

What, then, is the essence of the mystery of being a good father?

TRUST IN GOD

The essence can be capsuled in three words: Trust in God.

Or in the nine words of Mary, which surely expressed also the central motivation of the life of St. Joseph:”Be it done unto me according to Thy word. “

A father is not thinking straight if he attempts to rear his children by his own unaided power.

The children come to him because he has cooperated with God in their creation.

They are his children, but God’s also.

He and God must work hand in hand in their rearing. And this is the secret of fully successful fatherhood. The father should not ask,”What do I want for my children?” He should ask, “What does God want? Why did God send them to me and not to somebody else? What counsel does God have to give me in bringing them to manhood and womanhood?”

A father should insist in prayer that God have a hand in everything he does for his children.

If his boy or girl asks a question, he should try to answer it as God would answer it if put to Him directly.

After all, it is put to God indirectly, because the father is exercising God’s fatherhood, as did Joseph toward Christ.

A father should be as considerate and courteous toward his children as he would be toward the most respected and exalted person in the community.

More-he should be as courteous and considerate as he would be toward Christ.

He must never punish in anger, nor should strive to act as St. Joseph would act. even in cold calculation. He has no right to punish at all unless he punishes in love.

This means that he first gets the whole story; he tries to understand; he puts himself in the child’s place and comprehends the child’s childlikeness and inexperience and impetuosity.

He reminds himself that the child is God’s as well as his.

Often he looks at his children and thinks about the fact that they are images and likenesses of their Creator. God gave them minds and wills of their own .

Truth will attract their minds. Goodness will attract their wills.

That is the father’s job-and of course the mother’s-to fill the lives of the children with the attractions of goodness and truth.

Yes, youngsters must be warned away from sin. They must know the do-nots.

Here, however, a cautionary note is needed. Sin should not be confused with human preferences. Sin is what is against God’s directives for our happiness. Sin is not what annoys adults.

Maybe the noise and the energy of children make you nervous. All right; ask them to soft-pedal it a bit. But don’t invent a lot of sins for them. There are plenty of real sins without that.

Yes-youngsters must be warned of sin; but it is still more important to attract them to virtue.

They should be attracted to virtue, first through seeing virtue in their parents; and then also, of course, by being taught virtue through gentle explanation.

Few fathers realize the tremendous effect upon children of virtue in themselves.

Men tend to think that the chief influence in the home is the mother. She is tremendously important-but nothing so deeply affects a child as goodness in the father, because the father, for the child is the great strong person who holds up the universe.

When the child sees such strength united with patience, tenderness, kindness, understanding, thoughtfulness and helpfulness, the youngster, even though subconsciously, is profoundly moved.

Children love their mother; but they nearly worship their father if he is what a father ought to be.

Their love for a good father is a love filled with a kind of awe.

It is the sort of love that a saint has for God-it is love and trust and yet it is also an awareness of majesty and power.

MIRROR OF LOVE

Children, then, are especially drawn toward God when they are drawn toward their father. And this is natural enoughalthough it is also supernatural-because the father is the embodiment in his home of the Fatherhood of God.

The father, therefore, must mirror God as accurately as possible.

Let him remember always that God’s first approach to man is not the approach of fear, but the approach of loving man and of wanting to be loved in return.

The first thing God did toward man, after creating him, was to place him in a paradise.

He provided everything for man’s happiness, for his joy, for his comfort. He was lavish in meeting all man’s needs.

There was food and warmth and security in paradise; and beauty for eye and ear; and everything to delight man so that his days and nights were things of joy and cheer.

Only when man rejected God was there trouble.

What happened was that man refused to trust God.

Man believed the tempter who said that God was lying in saying that there was one thing man must not do.

God said that if man did that thing, he would die. The tempter said that if man did it, man would be a god. And man embraced the lie of the tempter, and spurned the truth of God.

But children will not think that their father, who gives them home and food and clothing and jollity, is a liar.

If he approaches them with love, they will respond to love.

Punishment should be his last thought, not his first. And he should never resort to it unless it is dictated by love as being necessary.

The father should emulate God in approaching God’s children and his by making of the home a little paradise for them, and making of himself a mirror of God’s goodness toward them.

If he schemes for their happiness they will embrace virtue.

GOOD BOOKS

One of the effective ways of showing virtue to children is through good books. A father should read to them, should help them to learn to read, and within his financial means should see to it that they have the right things to read.

If he cannot afford books, he can go along with the youngsters to the library as he goes with them to the zoo and the circus and the parks.

What books he can afford, he should give, because an owned book influences a child more than a borrowed book does.

It is not unqualifiedly true that a child will be what the child reads, but there is considerable truth in it.

A child will be what he reads and sees and hears and feels-plus what in him is unique because he is a person in his own right; a being who will never be duplicated.

It is a father’s business to surround his youngsters with everything possible that is good for them, as God surrounded man with good things in paradise.

The father who does that will have few problems with his children, assuming that his judgment about what is good for them is a right judgment.

Forming that right judgment is part of his obligation as a father. And that means that he forms himself rightly-he lives up to himself as an image of God, as a partner with God in fatherhood, and as a brother of Christ in virtuous manliness.

SELF-UNMADE MAN

To go back to the beginning, the good father is the self-unmade man.

He is one who is striving to make himself unneeded.

He is working to rear boys and girls into the fullness of good manhood and womanhood in which they can go about their Father’s business without his supervision.

His work as a father is done, in one sense, when he can close his front door and turn back into a house empty of little ones because the little ones are now following their own destinies.

Of course they will be back, in all likelihood-back for visits to make the house jump with the shouts and scamperings of grandchildren.

But by that time, father’s job is largely done; his work now is to be a good grandfather-which is another story.

In another sense, though, the task of the father is never finished until the end of time.

Even after his youngsters have departed to go with God toward their own destinies, he watches over them in prayer.

Sometimes, too, he gently counsels them and he is a happy man if he has been the kind of father to whom they return seeking advice and companionship because he is a grand and lovable person.

Maybe the final test of successful fatherhood is the attitude of the sons-in-law and daughters-in-law. If they like being around their father-in-law, it is time to strike a medal and pin it on him.

And they will like being around him if he has risen, through the years, to the challenge, the privilege and the rollicking joy of being what a father can be in cooperation with the Father of all-if in short, he has succeeded in making himself great by making himself ever smaller in service to his wife and children.

When Father has contrived to make himself nothing, he is then really something. When he is a nobody, he is emphatically a somebody-and the generations will rise up and call him blessed.

Nihil Obstat:

BERNARD O”CONNOR, Diocesan Censor.

Imprimatur:

@ JUSTIN D. SIMONDS, Archbishop of Melbourne. 30th April, 1965.

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How To Be Good Parents

DONALD F. MILLER, C.SS.R

INDEX

Here are the principles, with some of the practical applications, that all parents must know and observe if they are to rejoice in the children whom God entrusts to their care.

It is not easy to be good parents today. One may go farther and say that it is never “easy” to be such, because parenthood begets very serious obligations, and fallen human nature rather instinctively rebels against being obliged to anything. Today it is especially difficult to be good parents because so many persons who have brought children into the world have taken the easy way out and evaded the obligations that parenthood imposed upon them.

It is good, therefore, to review the principles that underlie the obligations of parents toward their children, and to point out some of the practical applications that must be made of the principles by fathers and mothers. The fourth commandment of God reads: “Honour thy father and thy mother.” Implicit in this command, which is directed primarily to children, is the law that parents must rightly fulfill their obligations toward their children. To fulfill those obligations, parents must know them and ponder on them often.

Since there is so much abdication of parental responsibility today, with the result that patterns of wrong conduct are widely followed in the world, it is important that individual parents not only read the following principles and explanations for themselves, but that they get together with other Christian and Catholic parents and set up patterns of conduct that will oppose the fashions and standards followed by parents who don’t know or don’t care to know how rightly to exercise their parental authority. Groups of parents, therefore, should study and talk about these principles together, and encourage one another to put them into practice.

PRINCIPLE I

The authority of parents is a delegation of the authority of God, transmitted to them by the very fact of their becoming parents, through which they are to direct their children first, toward heaven, and second, toward a useful and happy life in this world.

God cooperates with parents in bringing children into the world, but God does the major part. He creates an immortal human soul for every child and has supreme authority over that soul. This authority He delegates to the parents for the proper upbringing of the child.

Therefore the authority of parents over their children must be exercised with definite ends in view, and with a clear knowledge of the proper means to those ends.

The first end is always the salvation of the child’s soul. The secondary end is the living of a good and useful and happy life on earth.

The means are threefold: 1) a knowledge of God, attained through faith and reason, and of all that God has revealed to man; 2) observance of God’s laws, as made known through the teachings of Christ and His Church; 3) the use of prayer and the sacramental system Christ established as the means of growing in positive grace.

Leading a child toward its proper goals, through the right means, will require personal instruction, correction of faults, discipline of the will, and, at times, reasonable punishment.

PRINCIPLE II

The authority of parents will never be effective in directing a child properly unless it be exercised against the background of manifest love.

God never commands human beings without at the same time showing His love for them. Indeed, all the commands of God are in some way expressions of His love. It was this love that inspired Him to go so far as to die for mankind.

Since the authority of parents is a delegation of the authority of God, its exercise must be accompanied by the same kind of love that God has shown to all His children. This love must be manifest so that the children will see that the same parents who command them love them whole-heartedly.

The love of parents is made manifest only through sacrifice, respect for the human nature of their children, companionship and a deep interest in the studies, the work, the play and the progress of their children. It does not injure the children by coddling them; it does not stunt them by unreasonable severity in its demands and punishments. It makes the children constantly aware that the parents want their happiness, both eternal and temporal, even when discipline and correction and punishment are required.

PRINCIPLE III

The authority of parents will rarely be effectively exercised unless it is backed up by their good example.

In all moral and spiritual matters, the example of parents should be the first teacher of their children; explanations, commands, prohibitions, corrections are of little lasting value unless the good example is there.

Thus parents who rarely receive the sacraments, who are guilty of frequent profanity and even obscenity in speech, who often quarrel with each other, will accomplish little or nothing by commanding their children to do otherwise than they do. The children may obey for a while, at least when they are very young; but almost inevitably and eventually the children will follow the example of their parents and not their commands.

PRINCIPLE IV

The authority of parents must be exercised with full recognition of the differences of treatment required by the differences of temperament, sex and age in their children.

Every child born into the world is a distinct human personality, with its own particular disposition and temperament, with the special characteristics of its sex, and with a need for different kinds of treatment as it advances more and more toward maturity.

Basic to the needs of all children, however, is that they be trained to respect the authority of their parents from their earliest years. Parents who let their children have their own way throughout childhood will never win them to obedience in later years. It is hopeless to try to direct a child toward good and to rescue it from evil by beginning to exercise authority only when the child is advancing into its teens.

At the same time each child must be looked upon as an individual boy or girl, and is subject to growth and development requiring changes of approach on the part of parents as the child advances toward greater and greater maturity.

Thus the father will be on guard against trying to deal with his daughter in the same manner as he directs his sons; and the mother will beware of trying to mould a son’s character according to the same pattern as that of a daughter.

Thus both parents will study to learn the individual temperaments of their children and to direct them accordingly. They will come to realize that a moody child needs encouragement and the building up of self-confidence; an extrovert child needs discipline, order and frequent correction; a child with a tendency to want to dominate others needs praise and at the same time humility; a lazy or phlegmatic child needs frequent prods administered with patience and understanding. Despite all this no child can get along without respect for parental authority instilled at the earliest age.

As the child grows into its teens, the authority of parents gradually expresses itself more often in suggestions, directives and even wishes rather than in sharp commands. This will work out only if the children have always been trained to respect the authority of their parents and to recognize their love. Too many parents make the mistake of commanding a fifteen-year-old to do things in the same manner as they would a five-year-old child.

PRINCIPLE V

The authority of father and mother must be mutually exercised, each contributing what is most natural to their particular role.

The mutual exercise of parental authority means that neither one will abdicate authority, nor delegate to the other the making of all decisions concerning the direction, correction and punishment of the children. Fathers, in particular, do great harm to their children (and, incidentally, to their wives) who, in all problems and questions that arise concerning the children, say to them: “Let your mother decide.”

Each parent has something to contribute toward the proper development of a child. By the design of nature, a father leans toward justice and severity; the mother toward mercy and leniency. Both these shadings of authority are needed for the rounded development of the child. Children need to see the father and mother working together, complementing each other, in bringing them up. Above all, it is important that they never be given grounds for “playing” their father and mother against each other.

Therefore the father must permit his masculine sense of justice to be tempered at times by the mother’s leaning toward mercy; the mother must want her feminine leniency to be bolstered by the father’s instinct toward strictness. Yet decisions must appear to the children as coming from both parents, the one always supporting and upholding the other when the decision has been mutually made.

PRINCIPLE VI

The authority of Christian parents must be exercised with full recognition of the fact that false, dangerous and bad standards of conduct are approved or tolerated by many parents in the world today, and that Christian parents must band together to reject and resist all such standards.

The grave mistake of many Christian parents is to let themselves be swayed by customs, practices and permissions that are indulged by children who have parents “who don’t care,” or who are guided by wrong principles. They cannot resist the plaintive appeal of children: “Other parents allow these things; why shouldn’t they be allowed to me?”

Children, even in their teens, cannot be expected to make the distinction between the good and the bad, the dangerous and the harmless, in the customs that are prevalent around them. Indeed, they of all human beings are most apt to call upon the false principle that what is widely done is rightly done. At the same time, widespread experience proves that children want to be guided; they want to be told by their parents what they should do and not do.

Therefore parents are bound to use their own knowledge and experience, their own faith and principle, to guide and direct their children toward what is good and away from what is bad, no matter what the popular modes of juvenile conduct may be. And because the weight of false principle and bad example is so great, they need to get together with other parents like themselves, and to establish norms and rules that all will observe together. The effect will be that no child of Catholic parents will be able to say:

“You are the only parents in the world who ask or demand such-and-such ofme.”

A number of clear examples of the contradiction between what is popular or widely permitted and what is right can be set down. Under each heading below the wrong principle or practice will be set down followed by the right.

1. Recreation outside the home.

Wrong: Parents need not be concerned about the circumstances in which their children seek recreation outside the home.

Right: Parents are bound to know and pass judgment on 1) where their children (including teen-agers) go for recreation; 2) with whom they go; 3) how long they will be away from home. In a rightly run home, definite rules regarding these three points will be laid down and enforced for the children from their earliest years to their late teens.

2. Recreation in the home.

Wrong: Parents are justified in discouraging gatherings or parties of their children with their friends in their own home. If on occasion such parties are permitted, the parents need not be bothered with supervising or chaperoning them in any way.

Right: Parents have an obligation to welcome the friends of their children into their home for informal or formal gatherings, because this is the only adequate way in which they can get to know the kind of company their children keep. Further, they are obliged (this word should be unnecessary: it were better said, “they should desire”) to chaperone and take part in such gatherings, and enforce definite rules concerning modesty, decency and propriety at all times. “Crashing” should be prohibited, and break-up times agreed upon and observed.

3. Company-keeping

Wrong: T here is no harm, and perhaps some good, in permitting a youngster in the eighth grade or in the three early years of high school, to keep steady company, that is regularly to have “dates” exclusively with a certain individual.

Right: Steady company-keeping is lawful only when marriage is considered possible and desirable within a reasonable period of time, which may be estimated at about a year. There are two reasons for this. The first and most important is that steady company-keeping without prospect of marriage within a reasonable time practically always leads in due course to sins of impurity. The second reason is that no child can acquire a worthwhile high school education if it is distracted from its studies by an immature love-affair.

On this principle parents are bound to prohibit steady company-keeping to their children at least until the latter part of their senior year in high school. Even then it may be permitted only if the teen-ager is willing, with the seriously considered advice of parents, to face the prospect of marriage shortly after the completion of high school. If a high school senior seriously plans on going to college or university, the parents should inform him (or her) that steady company-keeping in high school represents a decision to give up all thought of college or university, and that they (the parents) will enforce that decision.

4. Sex-instruction

Wrong: Parents may trust that their children will learn all they need to know about sex from their teachers, their companions, and from books and magazines.

Right: Parents have the primary responsibility for seeing to it that their children are not only properly informed on matters of sex, but prepared to meet the problems that will arise in this matter.

On no point in the upbringing of children, is it more important today that Christian and Catholic parents inform and train their children properly than in the matter of sex. On no point should they be more aware of the false principles their children may learn from companions and bad reading than here. For the task involved they should prepare themselves by well-directed Catholic reading and study, and by discussions with other responsible Catholic parents.

There are many other topics on which a false or dangerous principle for parents might be set down, and true norms succinctly stated. Some such topics are 1) the use of the family car; 2) money and allowances for children; 3) the use of alcohol; 4) the taking of jobs by children and the disposition of the income from such jobs; 5) proper attitudes toward school authorities, and toward the pastor and the parish church. Serious thinking about these matters, and discussions from other parents, against the background of the principles set down above, will reveal to them what sort of program will be to the best eternal and temporal interests of their children.

Imprimi Potest:

John N. McCormick, C.SS.R. Provincial, St. Louis Province, Redemptorist Fathers

May 18, 1959

Imprimatur:

St. Louis, May 22, 1959 @ Joseph E. Ritter

Archbishop of St. Louis

********

If you are angry, let it be without sin. The sun must not go down on your wrath; do not give the devil a chance to work on you.

Eph 5:26–27

How To Control Your Anger

DONALD F. MILLER, C.SS.R

INDEX

INTRODUCTION

Long before a child has gone to school and learned to read and write, he has learned much about anger. No doubt he has seen parents displaying anger toward each other and to other adults. At times this adult anger has been directed toward the child himself. The young child has seen expressions of anger among his playmates. Most likely he has also demonstrated his childhood ability to become very angry in certain situations.

A newly ordained priest will have to spend only a short time in the confessional before he realizes how universal a problem anger really is. Brothers and sisters confess angrily fighting with one another. Husbands and wives release feelings of anger toward the person they should love the most. Beyond the family there are displays of anger throughout the community and in the business world. Neighbours can’t get along. Employers are angered by their workers. Employees become upset with their employers.

Anger is one of the biggest problems in daily living. It harms not only the angry person himself but it inflicts pain on many others as well. There are few vices that are more widespread yet are so readily excused and defended. People can think of a hundred reasons to get angry and hundreds more to justify the anger they have shown.

Anger crops up everywhere. Husband and wife find themselves expressing impatience and anger toward each other. Parents react angrily toward their children and brothers and sisters toward one another. Anger then reaches outside the home to include relatives, neighbours, and fellow-workers.

Just as a person grows in size and image, so too does one’s anger grow. An angry little boy grows up to find himself with a man-sized anger. Anger never remains at the same level. It grows. Unchecked, anger can begin to rule a person completely.

From the start it should be noted that there is an important distinction to be made between feelings of anger and sins of anger. Every human being in the world, except perhaps the rare few who are so temperamentally pliable and unassertive that they want peace at all costs, will at some time feel impatient with others or be tempted to a bitter or angry retort or be carried away by interior feelings of resentment toward someone. Such feelings are not sinful if they are kept from appearing in one’s external conduct in any way or from becoming a deliberate desire that the other person be hurt in some way as a result of one’s anger. To avoid sins of anger takes a great deal of self-discipline and the help of God’s grace.

The sin of anger is chiefly a sin of expression; a person manifests ill will toward another person. It can be momentary or it can last a lifetime. It could even be a sin if the anger were not expressed but just remained a firm desire.

There is a sharp distinction to be made between the sin of anger and reasonable, forceful attempts to correct others who are subject to one’s authority. Recall the proper anger of Christ as he made a whip and chased the moneychangers out of the temple turning over their stands and tables (See Jn 2:13–17). Remember also the strong words of Jesus when Peter was showing his pride and his ignorance as Jesus spoke of his own death. (See Mk 9:33 where Jesus says, “Get behind me, Satan.”)

Anger is actually defined as the disordered desire to correct or punish someone. It may be disordered because the correction or punishment administered is clearly motivated by passion or fury. It could also be wrong if the methods used (mental cruelty, cursing, physical abuse, violence, etc.) are sinful in themselves and capable of doing more harm than good. The duty of correcting others is carried out only when reason, not passion, motivates the action. The words and actions used must be designed to help and not hurt the person being corrected.

Once these initial distinctions have been made about the problem of anger, several forms of anger can be noted. They include thoughts, words, and actions. Most of them are slight faults. Even in anger, people do not often intend to seriously hurt the one who has provoked them. Yet there are cases where the anger is either so intense or so prolonged that it can be quite a serious matter.

The fact that many of these faults of anger are not serious should not lessen the desire to overcome them. If these simple faults go unchecked, they are sure to grow and could lead to serious sins. It is offences like these that destroy the peace and harmony of the home, that strain relationships with relatives, that disrupt the smooth runnings of a business, and that divide the local community.

The following pages will consider various ways in which anger is expressed and the remedies to be applied. Self-examination questions are provided. Let these become the means by which you will resolve to conquer your own personal tendencies to anger.

1. ANGRY WORDS

The most common form of anger is that of harsh, loud, strident, intemperate words. Question yourself as to whether you may be guilty in any of the following things:

1. Do I find myself raising my voice to anything from a shout to a scream when I feel upset or unnerved by something that is said or done to hurt my feelings?

2. Do I catch myself saying harsh and bitter things without pausing to think of the meaning of what I am saying, then afterward regretting what I said? “I hate you.” “I wish I were dead.” “I wish you had never been born.”

3. Do I use profanity or vulgar and obscene words when I am angry, obviously wanting to shock and hurt those who cross me?

4. Do I make accusations against others that I know I have no right to make when I feel resentful against them?

There is only one remedy for the intemperate language one is tempted to use in anger. That remedy is silence. One has to learn the art of saying nothing at all when one knows that anything said will hurt another in some way. A mother tempted to anger against her children should train herself to keep silence for 30 seconds when she feels on the verge of screaming at them, and in that time she should say a little prayer for patience. Then she may give orders and correct the children, and she will do so reasonably and effectively.

2. SARCASTIC WORDS

Anger does not always take the form of loud and violent language. Sometimes it speaks quietly, but its quiet is that of a knife cutting into the very heart of another. Sarcasm is the weapon that anger often uses in these cases. See whether you have used it.

1. Do I speak with scornful exaggeration of the virtues of my wife or husband or children when I am angry at one of them? “Of course you know it all.” “Of course you can do no wrong.” “Of course you’re perfect and never commit a fault.”

2. Do I refer sarcastically to what other people have and what I might have if I were not tied down to this home when my anger boils over? “What a fool I was for not marrying somebody else!” “Other wives (or husbands) have something to say in their own homes; but I’m just a servant without getting paid for it.”

3. Do I belittle the actions of another person whose efforts are better than mine? His success has made me angry and so I must strike back and cut down his achievements. “That’s a good job but with all those years of experience you should be able to do better than that.” “You think that’s good. If I had your talents I’d really be able to go places.”

Sarcasm is very often motivated by pride. Someone is better than we are and we are angered to see them get ahead of us. In our anger we attempt to cut them down and build ourselves up. To avoid sarcasm we need humility and honesty. We must accept ourselves as we are and not become angered by those who are better.

3. VIOLENT ACTIONS

The tendency of unrestrained anger is to hurt the person who has aroused the anger. In some people the tendency has been so little restrained that it seeks to hurt not only by words but by actions. Violence is one of the worst forms that anger can take and may, if serious injury is attempted or done to another, constitute a serious sin. Search your soul for this weakness.

1. When angry at my children, do I strike them in a fury of passion that reveals a willingness to hurt them severely?

2. Have I ever used cruel and inhuman instruments of punishment in my anger, which could easily do serious or lasting damage?

3. Have I ever left marks—bruises, cuts, disfigurements—on another as a result of attacking that person in my anger?

4. Do I throw things, kick things, break things, in giving way to my anger, thus destroying valuable property besides trying to hurt the person who aroused my anger?

A person who permits anger to be displayed in the form of violent actions against another person reveals himself as a person with very little self-control. For a violent person to change he must adopt a rigorous program of self-discipline. He will have to use all his strength to keep himself under control rather than allowing this force to be turned against another person in an angry display of violent action.

4. QUARRELLING

Anger leads not only to sudden and momentary outbursts of harsh and cutting language and violent deeds; it is also responsible for protracted quarrels. We mean quarrels, not in the sense of fistfights or physical encounters, but in the sense of angry altercations that may go on for long periods of time. Husbands and wives as well as brothers and sisters may find them-selves addicted to quarrelling. This can also be a problem at work, in school, or wherever people gather to talk. Here are some questions to ask yourselves.

1. If somebody states that I am wrong in holding a certain opinion, do I argue long and loud, less concerned with truth than with browbeating the one who disagrees with me?

2. If I am gently (or even harshly) corrected for something I have done or said, do I go into a tantrum of self-defence and accusation against the one who corrected me, until we are both shouting about the faults we dislike in each other?

3. Do I start quarrels by saying things that I know are certain to arouse the ire of another, with the result that we usually end up in a torrent of counter-charges?

Common sense, combined with just a bit of fraternal charity, should enable one to avoid quarrelling. Common sense reveals that angry quarrelling is about the most useless thing we can engage in. A good, honest, intellectual discussion with some-one is profitable, even though it grows warm at times. Quarrelling always centres around personalities, and its arguments are inspired by passion and pride rather than reason. It never convinces anybody of anything, and only leaves lingering bitterness in its wake. Charity demands that a person try to say nothing that will aggravate another, and that, if unwittingly he has said something that has that effect, he withdraw from the argument immediately. It takes two to quarrel; one is enough to stop a quarrel.

5. NAGGING

Anger can explode, and anger can simmer and sputter for days or weeks, even sometimes for years. The nagger is the person whose anger takes the form of constant complaining, repeated statements of his (or her) grievances, ever-recurring expressions of spite and resentment. The chronic complainer, the person who is never satisfied, would also fit into this category. When nagging and complaining enter into a household, peace and comfort fly out the window. Some people do not know that they are naggers, but they will know it if they honestly answer these questions.

1. Do I have one particular grievance (e.g., against my husband, that “he does not make enough money,” or against my wife, that “she spends too much money”) to which I give expression in petulant or accusing language at least once every day?

2. Whenever the least bit of difference, an argument, or misunderstanding arises do I find that I inevitably bring up a long past fault or mistake of the other, which I have mentioned at least a thousand times before?

3. Do I find that I rarely go through one full day without complaining to my wife (or husband) about something that I don’t like in her (or him)?

Nagging is one of the infallible signs of self-pity and a lack of that wholesome generosity of spirit that alone makes full forgiveness of the shortcomings of another possible. Naggers defend themselves on the ground that anybody would complain who had to bear the terrible things inflicted on them by another. They are right in that anybody with as small and pinched a spirit as theirs, and as great a devotion to their own superiority, would always find some-thing to complain about. To get out of that class of small souls, the nagger needs to learn the spirit of humility, gratitude, and forgiveness.

6. POUTING

Anger can express itself through silence. The silence that anger sometimes adopts as an offensive weapon is not to be confused with the silence that should be employed to keep oneself from violent expressions of anger. A person who is often tempted to hasty and intemperate speech can cure that defect only by learning to be silent when the fury of anger is upon him.

Angry silence takes the form of pouting. It is a silence that bristles, that charges an atmosphere with tension. It is usually a prolonged silence that refuses to take part even in the most trivial conversation. Introspective, sensitive, and moody persons find themselves especially tempted to show their anger in this way, as the following questions will reveal.

1. I have been hurt or angered by someone. I know that harsh words would be an ineffective response. Do I therefore show my anger by withdrawing into a shell and refusing to say anything for a period of time?

2. Have I at times lapsed into an aggrieved silence over some fancied injury, only to find out afterward that the one who provoked my anger was utterly unaware of what it was that upset me?

3. When angry at someone, do I make him (or her) feel it by showing absolutely no interest in anything, not even in things that are ordinarily my favourite topics or activities?

4. If accused of pouting, do I adopt an attitude of woebegone sadness, and answer every attempt to shake me out of it with “I don’t care” or “Just leave me alone”?

There is little hope that the “pouter” will overcome his bad habit unless he faces the fact that his temperament inclines him to take offence where none is intended and then, hopeless of making others repent in any other way, to lapse into an unmistakably aggrieved or angry silence. Such persons can remain free from the fault of angry silence only when they learn to make allowances both for the shortcomings of others and for their own touchy sensitiveness.

7. IRRITABILITY

Irritability is the flaw of character whereby people permit themselves to be unpleasant, curt, and illmannered with others for no other reason than that they do not happen to be feeling just right. Irritability manifests itself when nothing has been said or done that could possibly be taken as an offence. When a person is in an irritable mood, it is impossible to say anything to him that will not occasion grumbling and unkindness.

Everyone is exposed to the irritability of others from time to time, and every such experience should make one more determined not to permit this fault to appear in one’s own conduct. Ask yourself these questions and see if you show signs of irritability.

1. When someone asks you an innocent question, is your response unnecessarily sharp, mean, or critical of the questioner?

2. As a parent, an employer, or a person in authority do you speak harshly to those for whom you are responsible, even when they are doing everything correctly?

3. When a little mistake is made or when a person somehow bothers or disturbs you in some small matter, do you respond in a way that is totally out of proportion to the action that has taken place? Irritable people make many smooth excuses for their weakness. Some say that it is due to their nerves, which are in bad shape. Others attribute it to high blood pressure or low blood pressure or insomnia or indigestion. Still others say that their unpleasantness with those around them is due to the fact that they have so many worries and responsibilities that they cannot be expected to show a consideration toward the feelings of other people.

All such excuses are just that—excuses. Irritability signifies a lack of personal control and an inability to subject one’s feelings to the demands of charity. There is no reason for a person to display signs of irritability. Like any other form of anger, it must be brought under control and not allowed to grow. So, stop making excuses.

One who is often cross and unpleasant with others for no apparent reason needs to come face to face with the fact that he is thinking too much of himself. The irritable person forgets that the other person has feelings, too, and does not like to be shouted at or abused for no reason at all.

8. TAKING REVENGE

With some people, anger expresses itself in attempts to take revenge on the one who occasioned it. There is a wide variety of ways in which this may be done, from attempts to do grave bodily harm to the person, to scheming attempts to make the person suffer some form of retribution. Many will find themselves subject to seeking revenge in one of the following forms, some of which can be serious sins.

1. If someone angers me, do I seek revenge by running that person down in my conversation with others, revealing his secret faults, perhaps even exaggerating them and lying about them?

2. After a quarrel with my spouse do I speak uncharitably about him (or her) to my children or my own blood relatives?

3. Do I try to alienate the friends of someone with whom I am angry, by making that person appear to be unworthy of their friendship or trust?

4. Do I attempt to take revenge on my spouse when I have been angered, by refusing to fulfill the duties of marriage or to carry on with my essential tasks?

5. Do I try to take revenge on a person who, I think, has injured me, by spoiling his chances for advancement or recognition?

One who invariably seeks to take revenge against another has an exaggerated or wrong sense of justice, and no regard for Christian charity at all. Christ dramatically insisted not only that his followers are not to strike back at those who injure them but that when they are struck on one cheek, they should turn and offer the other (See Mt 5:38–39). This was one of his forceful ways of saying that revenge is sinful. So, develop true Christian charity.

9. HATRED

Hatred is the final, fixed, and spiritually fatal outcome of undisciplined anger. Hatred is persevering bad will. It is the deliberate crystallizing of one’s anger into a state of total dislike. Hatred is not to be confused with involuntary dislike or antipathy for a certain person. Everybody experiences this feeling at times but it is not sinful when it is successfully concealed.

Hatred is not involuntary. It is a will act whereby one, both internally and externally, surrenders to acts of enmity toward another. These questions reveal the presence of hatred in a person.

1. Do I find myself deliberately fostering the desire to hurt, or to see hurt seriously, the one who has injured me?

2. Do I deliberately rejoice in the serious misfortunes that befall my enemy, and wish they would be multiplied? Do I even want him to be condemned to hell?

3. When I pray, do I deliberately try to exclude my enemy in my prayers which I know I am bound to say for all men? Worse, do I ask God to send great problems and misfortunes into the life of this person?

4. Do I show my hatred by refusing even to say hello to my enemy, either when we meet alone or in the presence of others? Does this go on for a considerable period of time?

One who has fallen into hatred of another must be made mindful of the fact that deliberately to hate a fellow human being is similar to hating God who is present within that person. He is inviting God’s condemnation on himself. Every time he says the Our Father, he asks God to forgive his trespasses as he forgives others. He asks God’s pardon only in the measure he is willing to forgive those who have wronged him. No matter how great the injury or injustice received, the offending person still must be forgiven. The remedy for overcoming hatred is to pray the Lord’s Prayer and really mean it.

CONCLUSION

It should now be clear that anger can be expressed in many forms. It can be spoken in angry or sarcastic words. Nagging or quarrelling are especially divisive forms of anger. It can be expressed in a mood like irritability or in the silence of pouting. It can also be physically demonstrated through violent actions. Revenge and hatred are often the most extreme forms of anger.

To allow oneself to exhibit any of these forms of anger is bad. It is a sign of a flaw in one’s character and personality. More devastating than the effects on the person himself are the evil effects that anger can have on other people. Anger destroys harmony in the home. It can endanger peace in a neighbourhood, a city, country, or even in the world. Angry people cause problems wherever they go—on the job, in a meeting, or at a party.

Anger is also a stumbling block on the road to Christian perfection. For some people it is just a small obstacle. For others it is a major stumbling block. Either way a person must work diligently each day and in every human situation to remedy this great problem of anger. With hard work and the ever-present assistance of God’s grace, this problem can be remedied. Unnecessary and unreasonable anger can be stopped.

Imprimi Potest:

Edmund T. Langton, C.SS.R. Provincial, St. Louis Province Redemptorist Fathers

Imprimatur:

© John N. Wurm

Vicar General,

Archdiocese of St. Louis

*************************************************************

How To Control Your Passions

BY LOUIS G. MILLER, C.SS.R

INDEX

Perhaps you know a man who is given to uncontrollable fits of anger. Under ordinary circumstances, he may be the best fellow in the world, generous to a fault, and a hard worker in every good cause. But given the occasion for one of his displays of temper, all his good qualities fly out the window. He speaks with a different voice; he acts rashly and imprudently, sometimes even attempting physical violence. Or he seethes in silence like a volcano on the point of exploding.

Friends and relatives who happen to be present cower before his rage, or are ill-at-ease in the face of his dangerous silence. From an intelligent human being, he is transformed into something less than human, whose actions are totally unpredictable.

Again, there is the man who drinks too much. A million jokes have flourished and grown stale about drunks, but millions can testify that it is no joke to have to live with or depend upon an alcoholic. As in the former case, such a man becomes something less than human. You may laugh at his antics one moment, but the next he may blindly run you down with his car.

These are classic cases of what happens when a human passion gets out of control. Selfish and blind in themselves, the passions badly need direction. Without direction and left to choose its own course, a passion can easily become like an insane driver at the wheel of a high-powered automobile, proceeding at breakneck speed, making casualties of whatever decencies of life happen to be in his path.

We might compare a human being, with his faculties and passions and emotions and senses, to a houseful of servants, under the employment of a good master, and administered by the master’s steward or overseer.

God, of course, is the master of the house. But God acts for the most part through a steward, corresponding to the faculty of intelligence, enlightened by faith, with which man has been gifted. Under the control of and subject to the steward are a host of lesser servants, constituting the feelings and emotions and passions which go into the make-up of every human being.

Now in a household where many servants are employed, discipline is essential if the affairs of the home are to run smoothly. If the maid and the butler and the cook begin to put on airs, to make their own schedule, and to issue commands to their overseer and their employer, one of two things happens. Either they are corrected and sternly put in their proper place; or else there arises a state of anarchy and chaos in the household which, if it continues long enough, brings everything to wreck and ruin.

REASON MUST CONTROL

Just in the same way our passions and emotions are meant to be under the control of our reason, and our reason and intelligence under the control of God. If one of the passions gets out of line, it is the duty of the thinking faculty, operating through the power of the will aided by grace, to put it in its proper place. Otherwise the lesser servant, who in his own sphere has fulfilled a very necessary function, now that he has gotten out of hand, proceeds to turn everything upside down, bringing the human personality to the verge of disaster.

It cannot be too strongly stressed that the passions and feelings and emotions in themselves are good and worthwhile servants. It is when they are allowed to get out of line that they are capable of evil. And of course the greatest evil of all results when the steward or overseer, the human intelligence, rebels against the master of the house, God. In this instance we have the sin of pride.

To sum up, in a well-ordered household, the lesser servants follow perfectly the orders of their overseer, and the overseer takes his orders gratefully and gracefully from the master. In a well-ordered human personality, the emotions and passions submit always to reason, and reason in turn submits to God. It is this attitude and this state of affairs that we characterize by the phrase, self-control.

THE CAPITAL SINS

Now in achieving this self-control there are many areas and aspects of human conduct which might be considered. We have chosen to discuss the matter from the standpoint of the capital sins. Each of these is a focal point, and represents a localized area of the general defense line. If each of these sectors is properly defended, we are well on the way to exercising perfect self-control.

It should be noted that in selecting this line of approach, we are extending the meaning of the word passion beyond its strict philosophical sense. We feel justified in this because popularly the word is used with a wide variety of meaning. Pride, for instance, is not a passion in the strict sense, yet we speak of a person as being “passionately proud.” The word has come to have a meaning of excess, of going beyond reasonable limits. And self-control, with which we are concerned in these pages, consists primarily in avoiding excess of any kind.

One other point may be mentioned here before we get to the heart of our discussion. Every human being, according to his temperament, has an inclination to one particular kind of excess more than any other. One person, for instance, may by nature be quick-tempered. Another has to deal with strong temptations to sensuality, while another finds his special difficulty in avoiding vanity and idle boasting.

To this special tendency, whatever it may be, spiritual writers have given the name of predominant fault. An important part of the business of achieving perfect selfcontrol consists in ascertaining and admitting one’s predominant fault. Once a person has done this, his efforts will be concentrated, and he stands a much better chance of success against the enemy in his own heart.

For example, it would be quite futile to make a general resolution such as this: “I will be perfect in every way.” It is very practical, on the other hand, to particularize the promise: “I resolve not to get angry with my wife in the morning when she burns the toast.” Not everything in the following pages applies to everybody in just the same way. Our purpose is to offer you a means of looking objectively at the facts, and then making proper individual application, and lastly to suggest some methods by which you may hope for some measure of success in the life-long battle with yourself.

GLUTTONY

We begin with gluttony, which may be described specifically as an animal sin, and we end with pride, which is the excess, or sin, and the only sin, which could be committed by spiritual beings such as the angels. Between these two extremes we touch on lust, envy, covetousness, anger and sloth.

The word gluttony has a much wider connotation than we ordinarily ascribe to it. If you call a man a glutton, you usually mean that he is in the habit of stuffing himself with food to the point where he can scarcely stagger away from the table. This is, indeed, one form of excess, and a very gross manifestation at that. Yet, while we have many people who doubtless eat far more than is good for them, at least our civilization does not condone, as did the ancient Romans, the custom of having in the home a room called the vomitorium, the function of which is sufficiently described by the word itself.

In this matter of gluttony, which means any kind of excess in eating or drinking, let us establish the fact first of all that there is and can be nothing wrong or sinful with the pleasure of eating and drinking in itself. Almighty God created us in such a way that if we are to preserve life in the body, we must properly nourish the body with food and drink. In order that we may be drawn to take this nourishment when and as we need it, God attached a feeling of satisfaction to the act of eating and drinking. It is a perfectly normal thing that a man should look with pleasure upon a T-bone steak, done to his taste, and that, when he has consumed it, along with whatever trimmings he may regard as suitable, he should feel a healthy sense of well-being.

This is an important point which at first sight seems so obvious as scarcely to need comment. Yet there have been and there are those who contradict it. Long ago a sect called the Manicheans in all seriousness taught that the T-bone steak (or their equivalent for it in the fifth century) was evil and sinful in itself, since it was a part of physical matter, and all physical matter had its origin from the devil.

And we have our modern Manicheans who hold the same thing in regard to wine or any alcoholic beverage. There are in fact certain sects which, it almost appears, take this to be the chief and most necessary commandment: “Thou shalt never under any circumstances drink anything in any way alcoholic.”

EXCESSIVE DRINKING

What has happened, of course, to produce this attitude is that many people do drink to excess. There are undoubtedly some who should not drink at all, because they have learned by bitter experience that it is impossible for them to exercise any kind of restraint or moderation. For such as these, according to the old saying, one drink is too many, and ten drinks are not enough, and the only ultimate solution of their problem is total abstinence.

But to condemn the drinking of alcoholic beverages always and everywhere because of the excesses of some is an illogical and dangerous procedure. It is even to cast a reproach at the Founder of Christianity Himself, for it is quite clear from the gospel accounts of our Lord’s life that He blessed wine, and partook of it at the last supper with His apostles.

That there should be a million or more alcoholics in our country is a tragedy, but they will not be reclaimed merely by declaring alcohol an evil thing in itself. Surely we learned that during our disastrous experiment with national prohibition during the twenties.

What is called for, in reality, is self-control, and self-control in this matter of drinking means in simple language knowing when to stop, and in some cases, having sense enough not even to begin.

For the confirmed alcoholic, let him take a long look at himself and realize what a heavy burden he inflicts on those who have to try to live with him or do business with him. Let him attack his problem with the confidence that, difficult as his reclamation may be, it can be effected just as it has been effected in the case of many others, by the persevering use of the means at his disposal. For a Catholic this will entail frequent reception of the sacraments, with the powerful graces which they bring. For all it will mean unremitting recourse to prayer, for prayer is a necessary condition of God’s continuing help, and for the confirmed alcoholic, the help of God is absolutely essential. Those with a strong inclination to alcoholism can derive much assistance also from membership in the Catholic Total Abstinence Union, or the non-sectarian Alcoholics Anonymous. Both of these organizations have accomplished wonders in leading men out of the tragic depths into which they had sunk.

MODERATION IN DRINKING

But apart from the special danger of alcoholism, and the drastic remedies which its cure requires, common sense and the common moral law call for moderation at all times and under all circumstances in drinking. The man who, although not ordinarily an excessive drinker, feels that he owes it to himself and to the world to get thoroughly inebriated on New Year’s eve manifests a flaw in his character, and the fact that there are five million like him does not make him any the less a fool.

Intoxication, at least partial, can conceivably happen by accident, as in the case of Noah long ago, who failed to assess properly the strength of the new grapes. But after it happens repeatedly, it becomes a more or less planned accident, and in such a case surely more than an ordinary resolution is called for if there is to be no suspicion of hypocrisy. The line indeed is thinly drawn between moderation and excess in this matter of drinking. For many it represents the most difficult and dangerous area of conduct. The final word might therefore be: control means caution!

EATING TOO MUCH

Stuffing oneself with food to the point of nausea, and drunkenness: these are the gross manifestations of gluttony, as we understand it here. But there are other and more insidious manifestations of the vice which should likewise be considered.

There is, for instance, an attitude of mind which might be characterized as epicureanism. The genuine epicure is not so gross as to overeat; he realizes well enough that this would be to take the edge off his enjoyment and defeat his purpose altogether. Nevertheless, he makes eating and drinking the end-all and be-all of his existence.

He gives exaggerated attention to the quality of the food, he eats; his whole life centers around the preparation and consumption of fine and exotic viands. Nothing upsets him so much as to be deprived of certain dishes upon which he dotes, or to have his carefully thought out plan for a fine meal disrupted. To act thus denotes lack of self-control because it is to allow one department of life, and an inferior one at that, to assume an importance out of all proportion to its real significance.

We might note, however, that epicureanism in this sense is quite different from the healthy pride that a good housewife takes in preparing a fine dinner. To the housewife, the dinner is a means to an end: keeping her family healthy and contented. To the epicure, the food is an end in itself.

Constant munching between meals can certainly partake of the vice of gluttony; after all one can eat to excess over a twenty-four hour period as well as during an hour at the dinner table.

Indeed, as munchers in all our waking hours and consumers of infinite quantities of candy, nuts and sweets of various kinds, it may be that, far more than we realize, we Americans will have to answer for our excess. I am not suggesting to my readers that they go on a perpetual black fast, or eat only what is necessary to sustain life. Eat well; enjoy your food; lunch between meals (except on fast days) if you feel hungry. But in all of this have an eye for moderation. Your physical health will be more sound, and your soul will be healthier too.

The laws of fast and abstinence imposed by the Catholic church on her members are designed as a check and balance on the human tendency to overindulge the enjoyment of eating and drinking. By obeying these laws intelligently, by additional prudent self-denial, one gains and keeps the mastery over an important area of human conduct.

LUST

Whereas gluttony concerns over-indulgence in food and drink, the capital sin of lust has to do with the second fundamental human instinct, namely, the drive and urge to hand down human life and thus propagate the human race through the use of sex.

Here again, the word has suffered somewhat by usage. Lust, as popularly understood, refers only to impure desires, whereas this is only one manifestation of lack of self-control in this very vital battle for the human soul.

The sex urge or drive, as created by Almighty God, cannot, it is obvious, be considered evil or sinful in itself. Used by human creatures according to God’s plan, sex, and the pleasure attached to its use, have God’s full blessing upon them. With Adam and Eve, our first parents, there was, indeed, and could be no revolt on the part of sex against God’s plan.

It was only after their disobedience to the command of God that human nature was, as it were, turned upside down. Sex, while remaining holy in itself, showed a strong inclination to overthrow the rule of reason and blindly chart its own course, without reference to laws or rules of any kind. This is St. Paul’s “law in my body fighting against the law in my mind.” Every human being experiences that conflict, and to achieve perfect self-control in this field is to be well on the road to perfection.

SEX AND MARRIAGE

By perfect self-control, we mean one thing for those who are married, and another for the unmarried. For the unmarried the right order of things requires that not in any way, whether alone or with someone else, whether by touch or by merely nursing in the mind thoughts of sex, may the passion connected with sex be deliberately aroused. The point needs emphasizing, because people sometimes try to rationalize and justify an opposite course of conduct. Thus, for instance, a young man and woman keeping company may try to argue that expressing their affection for each other, even though their caresses are warm and prolonged, cannot be very wrong. Yet in their consciences they must realize full well that such actions carry with them in the very nature of things an increasing indulgence of the sexpassion. Thus they indicate a serious lack of self-control which must rightly be called a mortal sin.

For those who are married, it is to be taken for granted that the use of sex within their marriage is not only a legitimate but even a holy thing. But human intelligence, in accordance with the wishes of God, suggests certain measures of self-control in marriage. We need not detail these measures; it will be sufficient to say that they are dictated by such motives of mutual consideration and tenderness between husband and wife as will occur to all men and women of good will.

Most certainly the vice of lust is served by those husbands and wives who misuse their marriage privileges by the practice of contraception. We have said that the use of sex is meant to be governed by the faculty of intelligence, and the reasoning faculty is meant to be under the control of God. Both the human reason and the God who created human reason testify to the unlawfulness of contraception. To break God’s law in this matter is to give over the control of sex to the blind faculty itself; to use sex for the sake of sex, thrusting aside God’s fundamental purpose in creating the faculty. This is a fundamental perversion, and indicates a gross lack of proper self-discipline and self-control.

It goes without saying, of course, that self-control in marriage precludes any slight est shadow of infidelity to one’s married partner. To practice perfect selfcontrol by unsullied fidelity in the face of life’s temptation brings with it a special happiness and a special crown for any married couple.

For anyone to exercise continued self-control in the field of purity, where the most powerful of human passions must be kept within proper bounds, a three point program has traditionally been suggested.

AIDS TO PURITY

In the first place, it is necessary to avoid, as far as possible, the occasions which in their very nature are likely to stimulate the sex passion. Such an occasion would be, for instance, the reading of extremely realistic books, or attending “sexy” movies, or, for young people keeping company, to allow such situations to arise as would make it extremely difficult to exercise proper self-control.

The second means of preserving purity is continued prayer, and prayer especially in the time of temptation. Only by continual prayer can we obtain the grace that we need from day to day. Only by prayer in temptation can the temptation be duly repelled. With prayer must be joined a sincere effort to sidetrack the impure thought and fix the mind on some other innocent subject. In these temptations he is wise who plays the part of a coward, running away from his enemy.

Last but not least, Catholics have at their finger-tips in this battle the power and strength which flow from frequent Holy Communion. Indeed, there seems to be a most special grace which the sacrament brings for this purpose. Not many years ago a religious poll at Notre Dame University asked this question of the students: “What profit do you feel you have derived from daily Communion?” In a surprising number of instances, the answer was somewhat the following: “When I came to Notre Dame, I had a very bad habit of impurity. Then I began going to Communion every day and to confession as often as necessary. Inside of six months what 1 thought was impossible had happened: I had broken completely with my bad habit.”

For some, perhaps for many, frequent and sincere reception of Holy Communion may be an essential condition of their establishing self control in this field.

COVETOUSNESS AND ENVY

We have stated that gluttony and lust represent the abuse of natural instincts that in themselves are good. There is a third instinct which has been planted in the human heart by the Creator, namely, the natural impulse of man to own his own home, to work for a living, to possess a share of the material goods of the world. Throughout the centuries this basic instinct has been crushed and thwarted at various times by tyrants and overlords and economic barons. But it remains basic, and history has sufficiently attested that those who attempt to crush it are in the end themselves crushed by the blind, unreasoning violence of revolution.

But once we have established the instinct to own property as good in itself, we must again face the unfortunate fact that it can be abused, in which case one of two capital sins will be in evidence, covetousness or envy.

To be covetous is to desire material possessions as an end in themselves, to aspire to riches for the sake of riches, to fix the eye on a neighbor’s possessions and to be consumed with the inordinate ambition to make them one’s own. The natural law and the tenth commandment of God both stand against this tendency of human nature: “Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor’s goods.” The vice of envy is similar to covetousness. It is sadness over the good fortune of another because that good fortune stands in the way of something that one desires for oneself. A person can be sad, not only because another person is richer than himself, but also because another holds some job, or enjoys popularity, or is possessed of some great talent, that he desires for himself.

That these vices are common to human beings needs no proof. In every department of life, for example, we find traces of envy. The high school girl who fails in her aspiration to be cheer-leader, the boy whose lack of talent keeps him off the football team, the matron who must resign herself to a low rung on the social ladder, the man who sees a younger rival win a desired promotion-all these are guilty of envy if they permit their disappointment to make them bitter and unkind, and to induce them to scheme against the persons who have got ahead of them.

The process is similar in regard to covetousness. It is easy to deceive oneself into translating the axiom, “A person is bound by the natural law to make a living,” into the principle that gives covetousness full reign. A person must try to become richer and richer.” One can cultivate an inordinate desire for money either for the sake of itself, or for the sake of the luxuries it can buy, or for the sake of the sense of power it gives, but it all amounts to the same vice of covetousness. In the world of today it is a vice that is hard to avoid for the reason that it has been given a place of honor in a large part of society. The rules of this half-pagan part of society demand that the young couple in moderate circumstances make it their ambition to climb ever higher and higher on the social and economic ladder; that the rich man be dissatisfied without ever richer and richer investments; that nobody ever permits himself voluntarily to become poorer as time goes on. Those who succumb to the mode lose all contentment in the ordinary pleasures of life. Even when their material prosperity increases, they find that covetousness has a boundless appetite and is never satisfied, but is always asking for more.

The bank clerk who embezzles and the cop who takes hush-money and the butcher who weighs his hand with the meat are all examples of covetousness, and it is safe to say that the way was prepared for their breaking of the seventh commandment by their previous breaking of the tenth. In the climate of covetousness and envy, all sorts of ugly weeds grow. “There is not a more wicked thing than to love money,” the wise man of Holy Scripture writes, “for such a one setteth even his own soul to sale.”

It is very obvious, therefore, that the instinct for acquiring possessions must be brought under the rule of reason and faith. This can be done only by one who has cultivated a deep convictionthat a man’s first purpose in life is to save his soul for heaven, and that material things are to be used as means to that end, never to be permitted to stand in the way of attaining it. Christ put it simply when He said: “Seek first the kingdom of God and His justice, and all other things needful will be granted to you.”

Joined with the remembrance of one’s first purpose in life must be an humble submission to God’s will. In the distribution of talents and of the material goods of life, God’s wisdom and His will play an important role. It is His general will that all men share adequately in the good things of earth, and He has imposed His laws of justice and charity on mankind that all may work together to bring this about. But in particular instances He permits inequalities, injustices, even persecution to befall some men, while He allows others, sometimes even the wicked, to prosper beyond all bounds. To avoid covetousness and envy, one must see God’s permissive will in these things, which is ruled by His wisdom and His love. It must always be remembered that, while God permits some individuals to become rich in material goods, this is by no means necessarily a sign of His favor. In the Calvinist theology, material prosperity and respectability and sanctity were regarded as almost synonymous, and in some quarters are so considered today. In reality, however, the exact opposite may be closer to the truth, in view of what Our Lord said about the dangers of riches.

Right convictions about thesethings flourish in the human heart only to the extent in which it is watered by God’s grace. The normal way to receive that grace is through continued prayer and the frequent reception of the sacraments of penance and Holy Communion. He who does not remain close to God will find himself gradually becoming more and more attached to the things of the world, and that means more a victim of the vices of covetousness and envy.

ANGER

Like most other vices, anger is the abuse of something that in itself is good. St. Thomas Aquinas defines it as an inordinate desire to correct, punish and hurt others. Sometimes it is necessary to correct and punish those who are subject to one’s authority, and in so doing to hurt them, but for their own good and for the good of others. Anger is the inordinate desire to do these things: inordinate either because one’s motive is bad, or the means used are wrong, or because one is in no position to administer correction and punishment.

Thus, for example, one person may lash out in fiery language against another occasioned by some slight incident, not in order to correct or help the person, but solely in order to hurt that person for the sake of taking revenge. This is the common form that anger takes: one person tells another off in order to take revenge by hurting him.

Or one who has the obligation of correcting and punishing others becomes guilty of the sin of anger through the manner in which he carries out this task. Fathers and mothers sin when they use profanity in correcting their children; when they inflict punishment far beyond reasonable limits; when they shout at their children at the top of their voices and thereby attempt to make them quiver with fear.

Or anger may be a form of defense mechanism, as when a person who has been guilty of serious faults or sins blasts out against others in an attempt to distract attention from his own misdemeanors.

For some who are of a choleric temperament, the tendency to become violently angry when they are crossed or thwarted will have to be fought against throughout their lives. But every victory they win in this regard helps to harness the strong forces within their hearts so that, thus disciplined, they may accomplish great things. Every great leader of men had first to conquer himself before he could successfully rule others.

With most people, however, it is not a tendency to violent anger so much as the small and petty manifestations of this unlovely vice that are in need of curbing and control. There is the tendency in most people to express impatience over the small faults of those around them; to say harsh and rude things to those who, they think, have slighted or injured them in some small way; to become peevish and to bear grudges in an effort to “get back at somebody.”

QUARRELING

Anger, and especially violent anger, breeds a family of offspring even more ugly and misshapen than their parent. Senseless quarreling follows close upon anger. Who is there who has not had the misfortune of witnessing such quarreling, perhaps between two erstwhile friends? There are mutual recriminations, ugly accusations, all drawn largely from thin air. The past is raked over for half-forgotten and presumably long forgiven lapses. Voices rise to a high pitch, but the participants seem totally oblivious of the spectacle they are presenting. Harsh words lead naturally to unpleasant epithets and cursing and even attempted physical violence. The worst case of all is that in which such quarrels take place between a husband and wife in the presence of their children. Here, to the sin of anger, is added the sin of scandal.

HOW TO CONTROL ANGER

The passion of anger is most difficult to bring under perfect control, particularly for those who are predisposed to it by temperament. But while “on the one hand there should be no concession to discouragement at repeated setbacks, on the other there must be unremitting effort to reach the ideal of self-mastery. This self-mastery means silence in moments of provocation; it means postponement of action when one is emotionally upset. Such conquests will be impossible unless a person accustoms himself to saying a prayer for patience in his temptations.

SLOTH

While anger tends to violence, sloth, the next vice to be considered, tends in an opposite direction, toward inaction, neglect of duty, omission. St. Thomas defines sloth as a sluggishness of soul that neglects to undertake good and even necessary spiritual actions. By spiritual actions is here meant any action that is a part of one’s duty, or an important means of salvation, even though it be concerned primarily with material things. Thus the father of a family who does not bestir himself to get a job and to support his family is failing in his duty through sloth. The person who stays in his comfortable bed all through Sunday morning instead of going to Mass is guilty of a mortal sin through sloth. The habitual sinner who neglects daily prayer and the frequent reception of the sacraments, the ordinary spiritual means through which sins can be overcome, remains a sinner through sloth. Too often the end product of sloth is a decided distaste for spiritual things, together with a downward gravitation toward unlawful satisfaction of the lower nature. It is easy to be sensual, and sloth always inclines to the easy things of life.

Lukewarmness in matters of religion is an especially damaging form of sloth. It is significant that in the entire New Testament there are no more terrible words than those addressed by God to the soul who, in the Apocalypse, is pictured as the victim of this spiritual malady: “I would that thou wert cold or hot, but because thou art lukewarm, and neither cold nor hot, I will begin to vomit thee out of my mouth because thou sayest, “I am rich and have grown wealthy and have need of nothing,” and dost not know that thou art the wretched and miserable and poor and naked one.”

Lukewarmness in spiritual matters in the very nature of things leads the soul into the sin against hope that goes by the name of presumption. To be infected with presumption is to suppose that God will take special steps to save my soul, when I am far from putting forth the necessary effort to correspond with His grace and to observe His laws.

Presumption is common among Americans today and, unfortunately, not rare among Catholics. It is typified in the case of the so-called nominal Catholic. Quite frequently he misses Mass on Sunday for some trivial reason, and, to avoid responsibility or- self-denial, he practices contraception in his married life. When he receives the sacraments once or twice a year, it is largely a token gesture. Yet with all this he quiets the occasional twinges of his conscience by promising himself: “Before I die, which will be a long time from now, I”11 straighten out my affairs with God.”

Since God has given fair warning of the unexpectedness with which death may come to any man, it is rash in the extreme to gamble on the future. God is not bound to help us unless we indicate a sincere desire to help ourselves; to think and act otherwise is to indicate a fatal sloth in His service. Nor need it be considered surprising if this same sloth, having made a man presumptuous throughout life, on his deathbed plunges him into the opposite sin of despair at the thought of the little he has done for God, before Whom he is about to be judged.

THE BATTLE AGAINST SLOTH

For all men in general, and for the phlegmatic by temperament in particular, a battle must constantly be waged against the tendency to forget the spiritual goals of life and to neglect spiritual duties. An irreducible minimum of religious practices must be set up as a schedule and adhered to unfailingly, despite all the objections raised by slothful human nature.

PRIDE

“While all vices flee from God,” writes the philosopher Boethius, “pride withstands Him to His face.” Herein may be seen the great evil of this first and last of the capital sins. It is to be found, in some form, in every sin by which a man offends God.

Like all vices, pride is an excess or abuse of something that is good. In every human being there is a strong desire, one may call it a passion, to be esteemed, to be honored, to be recognized at his true worth, to protect his good name. That this is not evil in itself is evident from the fact that detraction, slander, destroying the good name of another, are among the grave sins forbidden by the natural law. Pride is the vice whereby a man considers himself in some respects or in all respects as greater than God, and whereby he desires to be esteemed and honored and served by others far beyond his just merits.

Pride is to be found in every deliberate sin, because sin means making a choice of something that God has forbidden, in which choice a man is implicitly deciding that he knows better than God what is good for him, or that he may replace God’s authority with his own. Those who disobey one of the ten commandments, or act contrary to the clear teachings of Christ, or refuse to submit to a command of Christ’s Church, are in effect making themselves superior to God. That is the pride that caused the fall of the angels, brought about the sin of Adam and Eve in Paradise, and nailed Jesus Christ to His cross.

In a lesser form, pride appears among human beings as vanity, in which case it means an inordinate love of one’s gifts of body or mind, and an exaggerated desire for the admiration and acclaim of others. In a school-girl, this may appear as putting on airs; in the adolescent (even of mature years), as idle boasting; in the budding artist, as exaggerated sensitiveness; in the old, as stubbornness of opinion; in the newly rich, as ostentation; in misguided parents, as “mumism;” in those who exercise authority, as arrogance; in society folk, as patronizing superciliousness; in the talented, as self-conceit.

THE CURE FOR PRIDE

All such faults represent lack of self-control; there is no one who will not recognize in them a source of annoyance to others and, if he be honest, grounds for self-reproach and obstacles to be overcome on the road to heaven. Humility is the only real antidote for pride. St. Augustine expressed a deep spiritual and psychological truth when he stated that the first step toward perfection is humility, that the second step is humility, and that the third and last step is humility. Humility means recognizing and acting upon the full truth concerning one’s relationship to God and to other human beings. In respect to God the humble man remembers that he is a dependent creature, bound to submit to every expression of God’s will and, without God’s grace, capable of nothing but evil. In respect to his fellow human beings, the humble man seeks for no honors that are not his due, and for all the honor that he does receive he gives the thanks and glory to God.

Temptations to pride and vanity continue to arise throughout life; so also must continue the effort to learn and practice true humility. In fact, one short answer can be given to the important problem: “How to control your passions.” You control your passions by cultivating that humility which recognizes the good in your passions and utilizes it, the bad in your passions and suppresses it, the express will of God for your passions and follows it, the goal of victory over your unruly passions (which is heaven) and wins it.

Imprimi Potest:

John N. MxCormick, C.SS.R. Provincial, St. Louis province, Redemptorist fathers

July 18, 1957

Imprimatur:

@ Joseph E. Ritter,

Archbishop of St. Louis July 23, 1957

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How To Have A Happy Death

F. M. LEE, C.SS.R

INDEX

YOUR DEATH

Don’t turn the page.

Don’t run away because of those two words up there. You are only running into its arms. We all are. There was one man who stayed and looked at death, listened to all it had to say, and, for the rest of his life, he never feared it again. Would you like that? Never to fear death again? Well, here is the way it happened for him.

Once upon a time, there was a beautiful queen. Her name was Isabella, and she was ever surrounded by brave, adoring courtiers. Beloved above all to this Queen was a handsome, young nobleman, whose name was Borgia. Francis Borgia. He loved his queen purely and deeply. He had laid his sword at her feet, and he hoped for long and happy years of honor and high position at her brilliant court.

But the queen died, as queens will, and she died very young, as some queens won’t. The sad and broken Francis Borgia accompanied her funeral cortege in the long journey across the hot Spanish countryside to the city of Granada. Finally, they arrived at the palace, and a ponderous, legal-looking individual came out and declared that the casket must be opened to make sure it was really the queen inside.

Now, this was all before the days of our modern, clever embalming. And so, when the casket was opened, there was simply sheer horror. The stench, the pockmarked, decaying face, the sight of the milling vermin, struck the young courtiers like a nauseating flood. They groaned, they fled.

All except one. Francis Borgia stayed. There were sudden tears in his eyes, but they were not for the queen. They were the kind of tears that St. Paul must have shed as he rode out to persecute the Christians, and being suddenly struck from his horse by the Almighty, lay, crying there in the dust, a blinded man. But now, Francis is speaking to his queen for the last time.

“Oh Lady, you can take every hope that I ever had for honour and glory and put it beside you in that casket. I see now how death hovers like a shadow over all earthly beauty, mocking it, waiting to turn it into dust again. Farewell, my poor queen, I go to serve a Master Who can never die!”

And he went out to become one of the greatest Saints that God ever had. All because he had the courage to stand and look death full in the face. Let us.

After all, you know that the trees are already growing on the hillside, the trees that will someday cradle you against eternity. That not too pleasant picture- your own coffin. And yet, your pall-bearers are alive today, my friend. The machinery to carry you out of the land of the living is already in motion. Your own heartbeat of this very moment promises you there must be a last heartbeat some day. It cannot just go on. Your dear heart is your guarantee of death.

Shall we grow military for a moment, and plan our little campaign with death? Not against death, for we can never be victors there. We shall die. The curse of death is on us, and even the Son of God felt that curse of death on His cross. But plan our campaign we will, and the first line across our blueprint is bold and definite. It is this. Death will come.

Look at your watch for one minute. Do it. During that minute, about two thousand people died. At each second, another one stood before his God to hear the eternal decision, the final judgment on his life. All day, all night, they suddenly appear before Him, like endless millions of leaves, slipping quietly to the ground in the autumn of the year.

Up the polished marble steps goes Death, past the armed guards goes Death, to lay its cold irrevocable hand upon the most important shoulder in the world. And never has it been known to ask, “How ready—how rich- how old are you?”

We find ourselves uncomfortably remembering the beautiful, glossy-leafed, fig tree that our Lord one morning cursed until it shriveled before the eyes of the apostles. Uncomfortable, not because He cursed it, but because He cursed it for its barrenness, whereas no fig- tree in all Palestine was bearing fruit just then. It was not the season for fruit. Why curse a tree for barrenness in the early spring, when it was supposed to be barren? Why, except to warn us, who put off our complete conversion to God until the autumn of our lives—until we think it is time to turn to God. And find that our shriveled souls, cursed for unproductiveness, cannot turn in their clay sockets.

So we shall die. And the thought of it strikes us with the force of a feather landing on a pink cloud.

We have seen an hourglass. The glass with just enough opening for a grain of sand to pass through at its waspwaist. The bottom and top are closed off, and exactly enough sand is put into the top as will take an hour to pass through the opening. When the hour is over, all the sand is on the bottom. It is no accident. That is all the sand there was.

And down a highway in Queensland, at seventy and eighty miles an hour, two automobiles are recklessly closing up the distance between each other. Four young people in each car, four young drunk people, and the sands of their lives are running out fast. Their clothes and their consciences are badly dishevelled, and in three minutes they will stand before their Creator and give an account of their lives. Meanwhile, we shall be using acetylene torches to separate their poor bodies from the tangle of steel and glass. Death must have seemed so far away as they began that ride. The papers called it an accident. There was no accident. That was all the life they had been given, and it ran out.

If we could only get that picture clearly. The hourglass of our own lives. What is left in the top? How much? Three hours? The papers may call it an accident, but that was all the life that you had. Perhaps you will never get to a confessional again. Never to be absolved again. A blood clot, a stroke, a speeding car- God will get to you no matter where you are. Neither He nor you will add a grain of life. It was all settled before you were born, and it has been running through all these years. Have you an hour left? How many people live in mortal sin?

No longer are we drawing bold lines in our blueprint for the campaign with death. Very shaky lines, for death has all the advantage here. It can strike from behind. Forty thousand people will die tomorrow morning, and twenty-five thousand will not even see death coming. They will be as young as you, younger; as healthy as you, healthier; richer, poorer than you, and suddenly their brain will be paralyzed in death and they will be dragged before the judgment seat of God to answer for it all. What if you are standing there with them? You could be, you know.

They are sitting in their homes tonight, quite alive.

Perhaps in a bad marriage.

Waiting for Easter. They will clean up then. Confession faithfully once a year with the whole year’s load of sin.

By two o‘clock tomorrow afternoon, their bodies will be waiting for identification at some morgue or other. Tonight, they expect death exactly as much as you do. Death is for hospitals and battlefields, and for the old.

Christ died for us, loves us, and yet, because He must judge us, He was almost pleading when He said, “I will come to you like a thief in the night.” As though: “If there is anyone you don’t want Me to find you with, if there is any place, any home, any car wherein you don’t want me to discover you, stay out of it! I promise you that I shall come as a thief! No sound, unexpected, unseen. When do you least expect me, married man, when do you least want me? Single man? Woman? I have warned you. Don’t gamble that I lie!”

If Adam and Eve had not committed their sin, we would not be thinking of death this way. There would be no death to think of. God never meant our souls and bodies to be torn apart in a last agony. Soul and body were meant to be one, as they are in you today. And so we are terrified at the thought of this unnatural separation. No friends return to tell us about another life, all is surrounded with mystery, darkness, fear.

And yet, our own personal, eventual heaven or hell is not a thing suddenly thrust upon us the day we die. There is really no mystery about itat all. If a man keeps crying out to God throughout his life, “I will not have you,” then his fate will have the simplicity of an echo on the day he dies. God crying back, “And I will not have you!” Nobody builds for hell and lives in heaven; no one builds for heaven and finds himself in hell. On the very promise of the Almighty: “Man shall go into the house of his eternity.” Just as you build it today. So the sinner arranges two hells for himself. One on this earth, a mental hell, where he lives without peace of mind; one in eternity, where he lives without peace of mind or body. A two-time loser.

A priest raced through Melbourne in his car, pulled up at a hospital, and rushed for the bedside of his dying uncle. He was carrying the Blessed Sacrament, theholy oils. He came into a little vestibule, next to his uncle’s room, and then, strangely enough, sat there for five hours until the man died. You see, his uncle had been living with a divorced woman for twelve years, and the woman was in the sickroom, and violently refused to let the priest enter. Long ago, that man had made his choice, and on this day, he would have to stay with it. The priest had brought his God as far as God would go, and now He waited, ten feet away. Waited for the man to die.

There isa line in the Scriptures, “I swear, as I am your God, I am not mocked.”

THERE IS A LINE IN THE SCRIPTURES, “IT IS A TERRIBLE THING TO FALL INTO THE HANDS OF THE LIVING GOD!”

We watch human life, and it becomes a grim thought that these human beings shall die as they have lived. The thought can take practically all the comfort out of lying in bed on a Sunday morning, instead of going to Mass. And the bed can seem like a veritable nest of spikes when we realize the compounded guilt of keeping the children away from the altar, away from the railing. The brooding fear of what it might be like this Sunday morning, to fall into the hands of the living God, maliciously defied, deliberately angered.

And what of the person who has surrendered to some secret sin? He has made a contract with impurity, and death may break into the contract at any minute. All the while, his hope for heaven is just a mockery, a vague waiting for a vague someone who will decide for him whether he wants heaven or hell. In the heart of every sin there is a dark core of unhappiness and its name is death. The soul, dead in sin, and the body ever in jeopardy what if death had been waiting there, what if the last grain of sand had run out, and he had died as he was living?

These are the houses we build, and God has promised us that man shall go into the house of his eternity. As he built it. And the poor soul, who lives down all the years of her life with a concealed sin on her soul. (If only she knew the sheer happiness, the sense of humility, the desire to help ever so kindly, that wells up in the heart of any priest to whom she says, there in the confessional, “Father, 1 held something back years ago. Please help me.”) Carrying the dead lumber in her heart, knowing only unhappy years now, and an eternity of payment when death shall find her out. Go, dear soul, go to any priest. By the grace of God, go today!

And sometimes, in the abandon of his reaping, death strikes at those who choose to ignore the responsibility that God has woven into the act of human love. They choose to ignore the child, choose an engineered sterility, or when mechanisms fail, choose murder.

The lady stopped the missionary after the last Mass. He had never seen anyone so broken, so despairing, so fearful.

“Oh, Father, what shall I do? My husband and I have prevented children these twenty years. This morning, Father, he was dead. Beside me. Dead. Oh, what can we do?”

Would it have done her and her husband any good to have looked upon the decaying face of Isabella, the queen? I doubt it. They would have simply come to know what death looked like. The courtiers, who fled from the casket of their queen, knew what death looked like. They knew, and they tore it out of their memories as they stumbled back to a life of pleasure. Knowing is not enough, so God said, “Remember, remember thy last end, and then, thou shalt never sin.” That is why you find a skull, a death’s head, somewhere in the portrait of the old saints. They were always remembering what death could do to them. They could not stop its invasion of their body, but their whole life was geared to make sure that death would never touch their soul.

Human love is blind. (In much the same order, so is chemical attraction.) One man had about five minutes to live, and the priest begged him to renounce the unlawful wife who stood at his death-bed. But the gentleman rose up in his bed to cry out, “I”11 not tell her to go, I”11 tell her that I love her and will love her in hell.” And the life blood came pouring out of his mouth. Dead.

In hell he would love her! In hell he would hate and curse her for all eternity as the cause of his own endless agony. There is no love in hell. The peace of mind that you have never known in your bad marriage will not be waiting for you in hell.Aren’t you human enough to want happiness and peace somewhere along the line? Dreamer, you haven’t it today, and you have made sure you will never have it throughout the eternities.

But perhaps you have grown used to sin. Are you glad, at last? You may find another nugget of comfort in knowing that, quite often, a bad conscience does not trouble folks, even on their deathbed. You can kill off your conscience. One man did, and as he was dying, Cardinal Bellarmine leaned over him to suggest an act of contrition. The man looked up at him.

“Father, what is contrition?” He had five minutes in which to tell God that he was sorry for a lifetime of sin, and he did not even remember what sorrow meant.

As a missionary, one often enough meets people who are quite pleasant and blithe about living in sin. It is the nearest, known thing to the peace and beauty of a sepulchre. Christ acidly called it, “clean without, whitewashed, and the corruptionof bones within.” One, the prince of the fallen angels, hopes they stay pleasant and blithe. he will never bother them, even on a deathbed. Why should he? They are in his pocket, and there is no struggle. Why take the case to court and argue further? He has the deed, signed, sealed, and delivered. Don’t envy them.

For, there is a sentence in holy Scripture that holds what is about the most dangerous, final, shocking truth that has to do with us creatures of God. It is this: “Seek the Lord, while He may yet be found.” While He may yet be found. So there can come a day when He can’t be found. So there are people walking about the streets of our cities, and they are already condemned to hell. They will step from this life into hell forever. Their last chance, their last grace, was turned down, and God will never bother them again. There is a peaceful death for you.

Because you have cared enough to follow these thoughts upon your death, this reading can be all the grace you will ever need. It may be your last, but it is enough, if it will lead you quickly to the confessional, or at least, for this moment, to kneel and make a fervent act of contrition. Start the road back. . . . . . Do that, remembering that on one of these todays, you will look for the first time into the eyes of Jesus Christ.

Bravely look now, and say your act of sorrow deeply, lovingly, to Him.

Mercy is marvellous.

Perhaps, on the other hand, you are the one who has made plans for your deathbed. You will come back then. You will give up sin only when you no longer have the strength to commit it. You will snap your fingers, and God will come running. And the poor fool of a God, who demands that we intend to give up sin, will listen anxiously while you admit your transgressions, while you throw him the dregs of your life, and the sop of amendment forced on you by physical sickness.

Have you ever been really ill? So in pain that you cried to die? There lies such a one now, and his mind is growing dim. The pain quiets a bit, and a new anguish arises as he wonders who will take care of his broken wife and children. He wants to rise and protect them, but the sickness has taken the last ounce of his strength. He has never tried to conquer his flesh, and now he has fallen again and again. He is half crazed at the thought of the eternal hell before him. The terrible thing called despair is rising in the depths of his being. He is sick, heart-broken, his will weakened, and now- suddenly he is going to rise up and make a good confession of his whole life, his every bad action all those years; his strength will miraculously return, his mind will clear. . . . It won’t. He spent a lifetime putting a different kind of machinery into motion, and now it moves heartlessly on to his destruction.

MERCY IS MARVELLOUS, AND HE MADE A MOCKERY OF IT, AND HIS FATE ALREADY LIES ACROSS THE SCRIPTURES, “I SWEAR, AS I AM YOUR GOD, I AM NOT MOCKED!” AND THIS IS MOCKERY

Oh, your priest will run to the bedside with everything the Church has. And your priest will come home to sit in his room, and stare awhile at the wall, and wonder- what kind of sorrow was that- what kind of amendment was that—what kind of consciousness was that?

A few days later, the priest will bury that man in consecrated ground, and perhaps wonder where God has really buried his soul.

Too cruel? Oh no. St. Jerome is there to remind us that in all the Scriptures, only one man ever came back to God at the end of his life- the good thief. Just one. One, so we would not despair. But only one, lest we are thinking of trying it ourselves.

But ask the One, Who hung next to the good thief, and poured out His mercy that afternoon.

“Yes, the good thief. He came up out of a childhood of poverty and fear, he came to Me out of his years of ignorance and oppression. He came toMe at the end of the chase. I gave him one chance, and he took it.”

“And you?” So many years, so many chances, so much mercy.

All the Christian world turns to its God on the cross. Look up confidently, for This is the One Who forgave His murderers.

All of us.

TIME IS FOR ETERNITY

THE YOUNG virgins have formed a group, now, in the Roman arena. Except for their clothing, they are very much like the senior high school girls, who are shining up that graduation ring every conscious and every unconscious moment, with happy eyes set on the great day in June. But there are no rings, and there will not be any great day in June for the young virgins here in the arena. They were quietly living along their Christian lives, when suddenly time ran out—time for living their Christian faith ran out. Now they have to die for it. Their faith is no different than the faith of the young high school girls in your parish, but now these young Roman girls must die for it.

Thousands of eyes will watch them die. The people are already there, sitting forward rather eagerly, actually human beings, who have come out to see other, cornered human beings.

And the animals, the other animals, the ones they keep in the cages around the arena enclosure, are watching, too. Starved for two weeks now, but soon they can sink their jaws into this delicate, living human. flesh, and the little girls will be quite defenseless against the tearing, drooling jaws. God help them quickly be unconscious.

Of course, they do not have to die. If they just take a bit of incense, and burn it before that marble god, and deny the name of the Jesus who died fifteen years ago over in Jerusalem, they will be as free as birds.

Rosalia is among the virgins. Rosalia, so made for youth and life and love. Maybe God will have some strong Roman soldier die for her. Or, maybe it is lawful to burn a little incense, because her father just did. Her father has gone over to the pagans. And see, the young girl on the edge of the group, she is leaving them, she is accepting the incense . . . she is burning it before the god of marble. Surely, now. Surely, now, it is all right to go along and burn a little incense. Except . . . that this is HER eternal happiness waiting out there on the arena sands, and there never can be anyone to walk out there and bring it back to her. Eternal happiness is out THERE, Rosalia, so walk out . . . look up at your Christ . . . He knows the fears, the human tears walking, walking. ., youth and life and love are sweet, Rosalia, but just keep walking . . . Oh, Christ, take her quickly. Eternal youth, eternal life, eternal love.

New Year’s eve. Old Year’s s twilight

We get to try it again.

Or did we try it at all last year? What was it? Incense before which gods? Time ran out on that one Friday, time for just passively being a Catholic ran out, and you had to take a stand on denying yourself meat at that banquet. You ate the meat, you, the strong man, and the little girls in the Roman arena turned themselves into torn, bloody meat for Christ. We, the living, get to try it again. We get a new year, in which to live our faith. The little girls had to die for it. It is the same faith. We are the underlings.

Eastman, the creator of the Kodak empire, sat in his penthouse, atop the Chicago skyscraper. His left hand rested on a series of buttons, electrical buzzers that could demand and produce from the outside world anything and everything to delight the heart of man. But Eastman’s left hand was very cold, and Eastman was very dead, and Eastman’s right hand held all the story, his own revolver. Before he took his life, he wrote a little note, a curt little autobiography, a piteous paraphrasing of something Christ had said. The note ran: “I have had everything that life has to offer. Life has no more to offer, so I want no more life.”

CHRIST HAD SAID, “FOR WHAT DOTH IT PROFIT A MAN, IF HE GAIN THE WHOLE WORLD, AND SUFFER THE LOSS OF HIS OWN SOUL? OR WHAT EXCHANGE SHALL A MAN GIVE FOR HIS SOUL?”

In the twilight of the Old Year, we think of trying it again. And we gaze up from this reading to find Christ there, in the shadows. Christ with His scales, to weigh the conduct of our life against His indestructible words, “What doth it profit?” Wherein is the profit, to lie awake at night, hoping not to die before dawn, to die in one’s sins? Wherein is the profit to have throttled off conscience, so that, in a blind bravado, we do not care if we die before the dawn? How went the exchange, when we traded out our peace of mind? How went the bargain, when we traded out our soul? Who, then, owns that soul tonight? And would that one take its place in hell? Who would? Who can?

If only you could really die away into nothingness. Then, it might be a trifling thing to hide behind the veils of marriage and turn love into a deliberately unfruitful lust. If only the children did not have to go on forever, if only they were not immortal, then it might be a trifling thing for triflers to deny them the poor, short span of human life. If only it were a trifling thing to walk today without peace of mind, and to lie down tonight, condemned forever. If only you did not have to go on forever. If you did not have to be alive somewhere a million years from tonight, and still go on paying, paying, paying. . . . .

For a sin that could have been forgiven in two minutes in the quiet of a confessional and a burst of burning sorrow. Here, in the last shadows of the Old Year’s twilight, let me study my profit.

So many things seem profitable, so many promise happiness. Throughout the day, we seem to drive on from one little gain to another. A bit more comfort realized. A taste sated, a thirst. Some work passed off to another. A compliment attained and laved in. A thousand little creature things, burning up our time and talent and energy, promising us happiness. Taking up all our day, and all our days, until they have all our life, and yet none of them seems to mention any happiness for the day after we die. They never talk about that. Only God can. Only God can dare mention the day after we die. Only God can talk about the sheer profit of eternal happiness. All the way back to the catechism, then. Know Me, love Me, and serve Me, and I shall so drown you in love and happiness for all eternity that you shall forget the tiny inch of time, the tiny inch of suffering on earth, when you won these endless centuries of bliss.

Here in the quiet, before the world gets at me again, and fools me again, let me plan my happiness. I was born to be happy, and only sin can make me sad. Only sin is sad. Sin is the only sorrow, because it, alone, cannot be turned into joy. Poverty and sickness and heartbreak and bereavement and loneliness are sorrows, but they all can be turned into joy. For Christ and Mary were all those things, poor and lonely, heart-broken and bereaved, and I, so poor and sick and ungifted upon the human scene, can have the quiet happiness of Christ and Mary, if only I do not tear God and His peace out of my heart.

But how about February, and March, and the time to come? Will I still feel this way? Will I still be working at this kind of happiness? I work all year so I can take two weeks off for vacation, and now I am asking myself if I will work at my faith a couple more years so I can take eternity off.

Another thing that worries me. Everybody in hell wanted to go to heaven. Nobody wants to go to hell. Just what happened? Maybe they thought that some priest or nun or mother or angel was standing behind them, and would take care of all that for them. Nobody is worrying about me tonight. Nobody . . . Nobody. And the people in hell wanted to go to heaven just as I do. They just didn’t do anything about it. They wanted something else more than heaven, and it turned out to be hell.

The train was an hour out of Melbourne. The litter, human and otherwise, of long travel, lay strewn about the lounge car. We had formed a little tete-a-tete group in one corner of the car. To while away the time, we agreed that each should suggest what he thought the best mental attitude for the next twenty-four hours, if we knew that an atom bomb would destroy us all at the end of that time. Our discussion never got beyond the young man who led off. With a self-assured, sophisticated smile, he flattened us all by this solution:

“I”11 worry about tomorrow when it comes.”

At first blush, and last blush, a quite insane answer. Here, we had agreed that we were all to be bombed out of existence the next day, and still, our young hold-out planned to play in the clay of this world till it blew up in his face.

But are we less foolish? Who promised that poor sensual side of us even twenty-four hours, and yet, perhaps we still put off the conquering of temptations till some tomorrow. When will we face the fact that heaven is not a gift, but a reward for DOING something? God had to test us someway, and He decided to leave it up to our body, as to whether the soul would go to hell or not. Cry as we will about being weak, that will not change the facts. There is a test going on. We all want to go to heaven, but we will end up wherever the body drags us to, the heights of heaven, or the rocks of hell.

And who promised that selfish side of us twenty-four hours in which to grow unselfish? Nobody will ever need a prayer more than the selfish. Nobody. Their design for living is “me first.” The grammar is bad, but the tragedy is fa- tally worse. Their Poisonous attitude reaches out into every action, every decision. Always Planning ahead to have everything come out their way. Always wringing out the last drop of satisfaction from every situation. Their lives are a living denial of, a perpetual challenge to the most basic platform of Christ’s doctrine, Christ’s blueprint for ever getting to heaven, namely, taking up the cross and denying oneself. How well and how long such a one had better sit in the Old Year twilight, and swear to himself that he shall become selfish for his soul, even as he had been selfish for his body, for his will, for his way. It is a task for giants, or for a weakling with God at his arm.

Of course, there is no tomorrow. There is just a series of todays. On one of those todays, you die.

It is late now. The New Year will soon break from out the shadows. The young virgins, the millionaire Eastman, the lad on the train, have all told their stories. And someday your story will be told. In a few years, death will have claimed most of us who read these lines, and people will begin to forget how we looked, how we talked, how we laughed. The inevitable wall will rise up between the living and the dead, between the living and you, the dead. Your wife, your husband, your children must begin calculating how to live without you. They loved you, indeed, but you are out of their plans now. The story never changes. Your own last will, the laws of your state, will take away every penny you had. And you worked all your life for that. Just what did you save for yourself? For YOU?

When it is all over, and the seasons have laughed and wept and sported about the fields above your grave for many a year, what if someone could come upon that last cradle of your body, find that casket, and reach in to take up the handful of dust that was you? Will you care? Will you laugh, as you look over God’s shoulder, and then be swept away into the delightful social calendar of the courts of heaven? Will you care about dust when you have God? Or shall it be a cruelly valuable handful of dust? And will you look up a moment from the infinite torture of hell, to know that a flurry of wind has just caught up and spun to the four corners of the earth the priceless handful of dust, once your body? Gone, into nothingness, and you must go on, paying for that, for all eternity. How was the gain? How the profit?

Oh man, look long into the twilight shadows, until you see gazing back at you the burnt, shocked, hopeless eyes of someone who once lived exactly as you are living tonight, of someone in hell, who gambled on a tomorrow, and lost. Ask him what he would give for five minutes back on earth. Ask him what he would do. You have the five minutes. Remember, you could have spent them on your knees. You could have thanked God for letting you live long enough to be making the greatest act of sorrow in your life. It could mean eternal happiness, no matter what has happened in the past. Five minutes. Remember, you are responsible for them. You will know it eternally.

If, tonight, with all authority, you could find your way into hell, and tell some poor damned soul that he is to be freed in fifty years, he might well cry out: “Fifty years! If your message is true, I don’t care if it is fifty-million years. So long as this will end. Do you know the very hell of hell? It is to be without a reason for counting the days and years. There is no calendar in hell. It just goes on. But now I shall count again! Fifty years, and then eternity will be just beginning!”

But no such messenger will ever find his way into hell. They can all forget how to count. No wonder that the terrible word ““eternity”“ has sent legions of the most brilliant, gifted minds and personalities into monastic cells, despising as dirt whatever the world had to offer, and fearfully readying their souls and accounts for the crack of doom.

And now the New Year is trembling at the threshold. Fifty years! Will you count them as a Catholic, walking out in the New Year to your obligations, to your duties, to your prayer and kindness and love? Will you take your place with the lion-hearted young girls, those other Christians in the Roman arena, who believed as you do tonight, and went out to die for it? And at the end, eternity will just be beginning!

You have the greatest gift in the world tonight- you are alive. Perhaps you can write “failure” behind everything you ever tried. Perhaps you are alone in some rented room and nobody knows or cares whether you go on living or not. Maybe the Catholic solution to some problem in your single or married life seems to have beaten you down into the dust, and you crawl and choke and weep and hate the falseness of your position. Or maybe, from your sickbed, life seems a foul, obscene, pitiless joke.

But you are alive tonight, and you can still have it all! Eternal youth, eternal life, eternal love! God made you for it. Reach for it. It is all that anyone will ever need, and you can still have it all. Walk out and clasp it with fingers of steel, and never let it go!

And a Happy New Year! Millions of them, eternally yours!

ST. JOSEPH, PATRON OF A HAPPY DEATH, PRAY FOR US

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Nihil Obstat: V. Rev. J. CULLEN C.SS.R.,

Prov. Sup. Imprimatur: NORMAN T. GILROY, D.D., Archbishop of Sydney.

How To Know The One True Church

BY REV. W. FREAN, C.SS.R

INDEX

For the past five years my duty as Army Chaplain in World War II has given me the opportunity of dealing with many converts to the Church. Before the war I had met many others in the course of fourteen years of Missions to the people. My experience with enquirers on matters of faith has revealed that converts seek the security of clear proofs on various points. Especially they seek convincing proofs:

That the Church which Christ founded is the Catholic Church and that all men should be members of that One True Church.

To give such proofs-simple, clear, and compelling beyond reasonable doubt-to every earnest enquirer is the object of this little book.

My hope is that, by God’s grace, Catholics who read these words may be strengthened in the Faith which they possess and that seekers after the truth from outside may be led by them into the One True Fold.

BROAD OR BLANK-MINDED?

We maybe quite sure that if Christ is God and that if He did found a Church to teach all mankind, then that Church would possess proofs of this kind as her testimonials and she would not only be certain herself of her position, but her members too would have that same infallible certainty.

“Thou art Peter (Rock) and upon this rock I will build my Church. And the gates of Hell shall not prevail against it” (Matt. XVI; 18).

“Beware of false prophets, who come to you in the clothing of sheep. But inwardly they are ravening wolves. . . . By their fruits you shall know them” (Matt. VII; 15, 16).

Here are two pronouncements of Jesus Christ. Both may be taken in a prophetic sense. They are both fulfilled at the present day.

On the one hand we see the Church which Christ founded on the Rock of Peter working in every nation and sending out her missionaries to the utmost parts of the world-”going teach all nations” (Matt. XXVIII; 19).

On the other hand, there are literally hundreds of warring sects, all professing to teach the doctrines of Christ, yet all at variance with each other.

So great has the confusion become that, outside the Catholic Church, men say: “One religion is as good as another,” or “It does not matter what we believe.” The man who says this often gives himself a pat on the back and adds that he is very broad-minded. What he really means, G. K. Chesterton tells us, is that he is blank-minded. One religion is as good as another to him, for the simple reason that he knows little or nothing about any of them. To say that one religion is as good as another is saying that the false prophet is as good as the true prophet. But Christ warns us that the false prophet is as dangerous to his flock as the ravening wolf is to the sheep-fold.

In the midst of this blank-mindedness and confusion one Church stands forth in relief and makes the bold claim: “I am the One True Church.”

This stand taken by the Catholic Church is sometimes attributed to a spirit of narrow intolerance. But it is, at least in a negative way, one of the proofs of her divine origin. We would see that this is so if we should ever hear the Church say: “I do not know whether I am right or whether the others are, but you may take my doctrine or leave it, for I do no know whether it is true or not.” In such an event she would prove one thing: that she was not the True Church.

For Christ said to His Apostles: “Going, therefore, teach ye all nations . . . Teaching them to observe all things whatsoever I have commanded you” (Matt. XXVIII; 19, 20.);

“He that believeth and is baptised shall be saved; he that believeth note shall be condemned” (Mark XVI; 16.).

On the above supposition, she would be teaching doctrines which, as Christ said, were to be believed under pain of eternal damnation, and yet she herself would not know whether they were true or false.

The man who begins to think, and so ceases to be “blank-minded,” will at once see the absurdity to which this leads. Christ, however has sent His Church to teach all nations and has obliged all men, under pain of eternal damnation, to believe what she teaches. Further, He knew well that she would be surrounded by false prophets. We should expect, therefore, that He would not leave her in doubt about her doctrines or about her own identity. We should expect, too, that He would place on her forehead some clear marks, and that He would give her, as His representative on earth, credentials compelling in their clarity not only to the learned, but also to the “man in the street”

The Gospel was meant, not for the learned only, but for every man, according to the command of Christ: “Preach the gospel to every creature” (Mark [XVI; 15).

Such, in fact, is the certainty that the Catholic Church has about herself. Such, too, is the certainty that the individual catholic has about his Faith; and it is this certainty that distinguishes Catholics from the members of every other religion today.

THE PROOFS

The Catholic Church, then, calls on all men to look into her face, to see that she speaks the truth and to see impressed on her forehead those great characters which distinguish her from every counterfeit or imitation.

UNITY

The first of’ those marks is her unity.

Unity is essential to any church that wishes to be acknowledged as the One True Church. The leaders of non-Catholic sects are constantly longing for it and expressing their desire for its ultimate attainment. On the other hand, I have frequently heard unbelievers referring in a scoffing way to the divisions among what they term “the churches.” So great is this yearning for unity that, some years ago, many representatives of Protestant sects met at Lausanne in Switzerland to devise some method of achieving it. There was no representative of the Catholic Church present, not because she did not desire the unity of Christendom, but because she knew well that, no matter how good their intentions, all their efforts were vain; that the only means of reaching or preserving unity was the one appointed by Christ himself. They must come back again to the Rock of Peter, which they abandoned.

Christ himself prayed for this unity in His Church as a sign of His and her divine mission in the world. Praying over His Apostles to His Heavenly Father at the Last Supper, He said: “And not for them only do I pray, but for them also who through their word shall believe in Me. That they may be one, as Thou, Father, in Me, and I in Thee; that they also may be one in us, that the world may believe that Thou hast sent Me” (Jn. XVII; 20, 21).

Our reason tells us that the unity for which Christ prayed is of necessity a mark of Christ’s Church. If, for example, a church is found to have taught one doctrine in the 16th century and the opposite in the 20th, she must either have been a false prophet then or she is so now; still more so if her official representatives are at one and the same time preaching doctrines which are the direct opposites of each other. In such a state of affairs, how can men be expected to sit at her feet to learn of her and consider themselves bound to hear and believe when the teacher herself is so confused.

Unity is, therefore, necessary if the people are to have confidence in their teacher. Let us search for it, first, among the religious bodies outside the Catholic Church. What do we find among the various sects? Nothing but confusion and discord!

This confusion is the direct result of the fundamental teaching of the Father of Protestantism, Martin Luther. He protested against the authority of the Catholic Church, hence the name, “protestant.” He proclaimed also the principle of private interpretation of the Bible. He said, in effect: “We will not be dictated to by any authority on earth. The Bible alone shall be our rule of faith.” Now the Bible is, indeed, the inspired word of God, but that fact does not make the Scripture any easier to be understood. The Bible is, perhaps, the most difficult book in the world to interpret. In the first place, to interpret it correctly on one’s own private authority, it is necessary to have an intimate knowledge of several foreign languages, viz.: Hebrew, Greek, Aramaic, and Latin.

If a priest, after completing his ordinary course of studies, wishes to become a Doctor of Philosophy, of Canon Law, or of Theology, two years of extra study may suffice. But to become a Doctor of Sacred Scripture requires at least six years of extra study. This gives us some idea of what a difficult study that of Sacred Scripture is.

But, after Luther’s promulgation of his new maxim, every ignoramus who could barely read was told that he was entitled to take up the Bible and put his own interpretation on the Sacred Text. With what result? In a few short years, outside the Catholic Church, there were nearly as many opinions as there were individuals. Thus, over a hundred different interpretations were counted of the simple words “This is My Body,” which, up to that time, throughout Christendom, had had but one interpretation. One man took his Bible and said: “This text means so and so.” Another said: “I differ from you, and feel myself inspired to start a church of my own.” A third said: “I do not agree with either of you, so I am going to found another church,” and so the confusion spread. Among the latest fanatics who, “unlearned and unstable,” to use the words of St. Peter, still feel themselves inspired to “wrest the Scriptures to their own destruction” (II Peter III; 16) are the selfstyled “Jehovah’s Witnesses.” So the Protestant sects grew in number, until today they number about five hundred. Among this number each differs from the other on some point, which is considered so far essential to the sect itself as to render unity impossible. And then, in spite of their principle of private interpretation, they persecuted and abused each other, for each wished to constitute itself an infallible authority. Still worse, even in these individual sects anything but unity prevails. In the Church of England, for example, a High Churchman may preach doctrines in the morning, and from that same pulpit in the evening a Low Churchman may preach to the same congregation telling them that the things they were told in practice in the morning are blasphemous idolatry.

Dr Frederick Joseph Kinsman, formally Bishop of Delaware, has been called the Newman of the United States. He was at one time Professor of History to the ecclesiastical students of the Episcopalian Church. But he was chosen, because of his learning and piety, to occupy the See of Delaware. As Bishop, he had to visit his Diocese and to examine the candidates for confirmation. In one parish of his Diocese, where a High Church minister was installed, the children gave him answers almost identical with those a Catholic child would give, regarding the Mass, the veneration of, Saints and sacred images. In another part of his Diocese, where Low Church sentiments prevailed, he was told that these same things were blasphemous idolatry. He tells us that these sudden changes of the spiritual barometer from torrid to frigid zones were too much for him. He resigned his Bishopric and later came over to the Catholic Church, when he wrote his well-known book “Salve Mater.”

After having viewed this picture of confusion, let us come to the Catholic Church. There, thank God, we find a different picture; we find that unity for which Christ prayed. You may question the little children who have just been prepared for their First Holy Communion, or the learned theologians who have spent their lives delving deeply into the mysteries of the Faith, about any of the great Christian truths, e.g. the Trinity, the Incarnation, the Holy Mass, Confession and pardon of sin, devotion to the Blessed Virgin Mary and the Saints, prayer for the dead, etc. All give the same answer. Among all there is unity of doctrine.

Or again, question the Catholics of the various nations in matters of doctrine. Begin with the nations of Europe: England, Ireland, Scotland; France, Spain, Germany, Italy, Poland, etc; go to the West to the Americas; to the East: to China, Japan, the Philippine Islands; come here in the South to Australia. All give the same answer; among all there is unity of doctrine. Further, the unity of the Church is continued through space and continued through time. Thus, as a matter of fact, we are presented with the second and third great characters that distinguish the true church from every counterfeit.

CATHOLICITY

Unity continuing through space is Catholicity. The word “catholic” means universal. Any church claiming to be the True Church must be universal, for, in the Apostles Creed, the Creed common to all Christians, we say “I believe in the Holy Catholic Church.”

Moreover Christ said to His Apostles: “Going teach ye all nations” (Matt. XXVIII; 19), “Go ye into the whole world and preach the gospel to every creature” (Mark XVI; 15). From these words it is clear that the church which Christ commissioned must embrace all nations and teach all nations.

Again, let us first search for such a church among the non-Catholic sects. All the Protestant churches are confined to some nation or race. The Anglican Church, as its very name implies, is national, not international. It is, in a word, English. The Lutheran Church is German. You may find Lutherans in Australia, but they are mostly of German descent. Presbyterians are, almost without exception, Scotch. But there is one church that is international and universal, and which has given Christianity to every nation, the Catholic Church. There are between three and four hundred million Catholics, scattered throughout the globe, of every nation and race under the sun. They differ in colour, in language, in national outlook-but they are one and united in Faith. This marvellous unity has triumphed over differences of nationality and the passions of men. Surely this unity can be due to nothing less than Divine Providence, for we know how hard it is to preserve unity even in a small society composed of a handful of men. We know, too, that all who have broken away from the Catholic Church have had on them at once the curse of Babel.

I may fittingly conclude this point with an extract from “How to Look For the True Church,” by John S. Vaughan, D.D.:

“Our Lord commanded His disciples in a word, His Church to go and teach, or, as the original has it, to make disciples of all nations.’Teach ye all nations.’ What church most truly carries out this command? Who has been teaching the world from the beginning? What church was it that converted and made ‘disciples’ of England itself and won her from paganism? What church converted Ireland, Scotland, France, Italy, Germany, Belgium, Norway, Sweden, Spain, and Portugal? Was it our neighbour the Anglican Church? Was it any of the Protestant churches? It was no other than the Catholic Church.

“If a Protestant race or nation or country exist to-day, it is one converted origin-ally from paganism to Catholicity. The question may well be put: Has the Protestant Church, whether Anglican, Lutheran, or any other, carried out the command to teach all nations? If not, it is simply not the Church addressed by Christ. Has it, since its rise in the 16th century, converted as much as one country, or one nation, from paganism to Protestantism? If it has not, then how can it be the Church of Christ, for the Church is especially charged with this duty, entrusted with this office. On the other hand, if it has converted even as much as one nation from infidelity, I should very much like to know which it is” (“How to Look For the True Church,” by John S. Vaughan, D.D.)

As a matter of fact, history records, as Bishop Vaughan states, that every nation of Europe was converted to Christianity by missionaries sent out under the authority of the Pope. England itself was converted by St. Augustine and his monks, sent there by Pope Gregory. The last nation converted, as a nation, to Christianity is the Philippine Islands, which was converted by Catholic monks from Spain.

APOSTOLICITY

As was said above, this unity of the Church continues through time, as well as space, and so the Church has another great distinguishing character. She is apostolic. It is self-evident that any church which claims to be the True Church of Christ must be able to trace her origin back through the long centuries to the Apostles, and through them to Christ, her Founder.

Let us again look outside and seek the origin of the Protestant churches which surround us. The name of not a single one of them was even heard of before the 16th century. The Anglican Church came into existence in 1532. Henry VIII became its founder when he forced through Parliament the Act of Supremacy. The world knows the sordid matter of his divorce and why he threw off the yoke of Rome. “And yet this monstrous tyrant and scandalous adulterer,” writes Fr. Coppens, S.J., “is supposed by many simple folk to have been the chosen instrument of Providence for separating the English Church from dependence on the one pastor of the one fold. When Henry VIII died in 1547,” continues Fr. Coppens, “the faith of the English people was still the same that it had been for nearly a thousand years, ever since St. Austin, with his monks, had brought it to them from Rome.” He adds: “Those who take it for granted that our English ancestors deliberately left the Catholic Church on account of its corruptions, are very much mistaken. The people were driven into the Reformation by fines, imprisonment, terrorism, the rack, the scaffold, and foreign soldiers. Under the long reign of Elizabeth,” he continues, “priests who said Mass in secret and ministered to the faithful were hunted like wolves and, when found, they were hanged, disembowelled while still alive, and their limbs exposed in public places. The faithful who harboured them or who assisted at Holy Mass were imprisoned and tortured to make them betray their friends. By such persecutions, continued under several reigns, Protestantism was gradually propagated among the English people. Once separated from Rome, private judgment gradually divided the nation into countless sects.” (“The Protestant Reformation,” by Rev. Charles Coppens, S.J.)

If Hitler had been able to continue his persecutions of the Church in Germany for half a century, we should rightly have feared for the future of German Catholicity, though his persecutions were mild compared with those of Elizabeth. Yet such, the facts of history tell us, is the way in which England was robbed of the Catholic Faith, and how the Protestant Established Church took its place.

To mention the origin of a few of the other Protestant sects: the Baptists were founded in 1639 by Roger Williams; the Presbyterians in 1560 by John Knox; the Methodists in 1739 by John Wesley. Similarly, we could put dates and places to the origin of every sect if we were to take the trouble to go through the long list of four to five hundred that have since sprung into existence.

The Catholic Church alone can trace back her history to her origin at the time of the Apostles and through them to Christ Himself.

If we wish to find the beginnings of the True Church, we must go back to where Christ Himself established her; that is, on the Rock of Peter. Christ addressed St. Peter in these words: “I say to thee that thou art Peter (Rock) and on this rock I will build my church, and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it, and I will give to thee the keys of the Kingdom of Heaven” (Matt. XVI; 18, 19). To find the Church of Christ, then, we must seek for the Rock of Peter, on which it is built, and we arrive there, over a long, unbroken road-the line of the Popes, which ends with Pius and begins with Peter. History records that St. Peter went to Rome. Whiston, a Protestant, in his Memoirs, remarks that the presence of St. Peter in Rome is fact so sound historically that: “It is a shame for any Protestant to have to confess that any Protestant ever denied it.”

History also records the names of St. Peter’s immediate successors in the See of Rome-S.S. Linus, Cletus, and Clement, and so on with the unbroken line of 262 Popes.

This argument was used by St. Augustine (died A.D. 430) against an heretical sect of his own time, the Donatists. Pointing to the Unbroken line of Popes back to St. Peter, he appealed to these heretics to return to the centre of unity in the well-known words: “Come back to us brethren, if you wish to be engrafted in the True Vine. It grieves us to see you cut off from it. Count the Bishops in the See of Peter, and mark in this list of Fathers how one succeeded the other. There is the Rock, against which the proud gates of hell do not prevail.” And again he adds: “What binds me to the Catholic Church is the continuous line of bishops in the See of Rome down to the present Pope.”

If St. Augustine could use this argument with great force in the 4th century, with how much more power can we not use it in the 20th century? If the world endures for another 20 centuries, Catholics will still be able to point to the unbroken line of Popes in the See of Peter. For, as St. Augustine says: “There is the rock against which the proud gates of hell do not prevail.”

The words of Macaulay, the non-Catholic historian, may well be quoted here: “There is not, and there never was on this earth, a work of human policy so well deserving of examination as the Roman Catholic Church. The history of that Church joins together the two great ages of human civilisation. No other institution is left standing which carries the mind back to the times when the smoke of sacrifice rose from the Pantheon and when camelopards and tigers bounded in the Flavian amphitheatre.

“The proudest royal houses are but of yesterday, when compared with the line of the Supreme Pontiffs. That line we trace back in an unbroken series, from the Pope who crowned Napoleon in the 19th century to the Pope who crowned Pepin in the 8th, and far beyond the time of Pepin the august dynasty extends, till it is lost in the twilight of fable.

“The Catholic Church is still sending forth as zealous as those who landed in Kent with Augustine, and still confronting hostile kings with the same spirit with which she confronted Attila.

“Nor do we see any sign which indicates that the term of her long dominion is approaching. She saw the commencement of all the governments and of all the ecclesiastical establishments that now exist in the world; and we feel no assurance that she is not destined to see the end of them all.

“She was great and respected before the Saxon set foot on Britain, before the Frank had passed the Rhine, when Grecian eloquence still flourished in Antioch, when idols were still worshipped in the temple of Mecca.

“And she may still exist in undiminished vigour when some traveller from New Zealand shall, in the midst of a vast solitude, take his stand on a broken arch of London Bridge to sketch, the ruins of St. Paul’s.”

- (Essay on Von Ranke’s History of the Popes.)

Not only must the True Church be able to trace her existence back through the ages of history, but she must be able to trace back her doctrines as well; for, as I said previously, if at any time of her long history it can be proved that she taught doctrines contrary to what she teaches now, she is at once stamped as a false prophet.

Once more let us take a glance outside and see what extraordinary changes have taken place in the nonCatholic sects. I think we may safely assert that all these began with basing their belief on the Bible as the inspired and infallible Word of God. But now we hear many of their official leaders, whilst retaining their places of eminence in their churches, publicly teaching that the Gospel miracles are fables, and denying such basic doctrines of Christianity as reward and punishment in a future life.

Dean Inge (formerly Dean of St. Paul’s) writes: “The Gospel miracles have become, or perhaps they always were, symbols, myths, poetry; but symbols which are recognised as having only symbolic truth are no longer helpful” (“Fall of the Idols,” by Dean Inge). The Dean might have added, if he were in a logical frame of mind, that since they are myths and are related as facts, the Gospels themselves may now be looked upon as a tissue of lies, and hence also “no longer helpful.”

The Angus case, a few years ago, received wide publicity in Australia. For weeks the Sydney dailies placarded it forth in heavy type headlines. Dr. Angus was professor of Sacred Scripture and Theology at St. Andrew’s College, University of Sydney and, as such, was entrusted with the education of candidates for the ministry in the Presbyterian and other associated churches. In his writings, Dr. Angus refers to Christ as a mere man, who was ignorant of many things and subject to the superstitions and erroneous scientific ideas of the backward age in which He lived. With Dr. Angus, too, the gospel miracles are myth and fable. Some of the authorities in His own church became genuinely alarmed, as Dr. Angus held such a key position in the church. The question came up for debate before the Presbyterian General Assembly of N.S.W. In the voting which followed a resolution in favour of Dr. Angus was carried by 174 votes to 83, showing that more than two-thirds of those official representatives of the Presbyterian Church held similar views, or at least thought it quite permissible for Presbyterian Ministers to hold and publicly teach such things.

No wonder that confusion prevails. No wonder that Christian Faith in many is dying or almost dead. No wonder that the pews of their churches are so empty, for the teachers themselves have undermined the very foundations of Christianity, Well may we add: No wonder that Christ warned us to beware of false prophets, who come in the clothing of sheep, but who are as dangerous to the spiritual life of the people as the ravening wolf is dangerous to the life of the sheep. The founders of Protestantism, Luther, Calvin, and Knox, would certainly not recognise their doctrines in the teachings of these official expounders of Protestantism today.

Let us return again to a scene that gives us more joy and hope. We come back to the Catholic Church and there we find the same doctrines taught today as were taught, by the Christian Church of the first five centuries, the Church of he Catacombs and of the Apostles.

How are we to know this? History faithfully records it. Just as we have preserved in our libraries the works of many profane writers who lived 2,000 years ago, so too, we have the writings of the great Greek and Latin scholars of the early Christian centuries.

Prominent among these Fathers, Doctors, and Ecclesiastical writers of the first three centuries are St. Ignatius, St. Irenaeus, St. Clement, Papias, Origen, and Tertullian; of the fourth and fifth centuries St. Ambrose, St. Jerome, St. Augustine, St. Basil, St. Gregory, St. John Chrysostom-to mention only a few by way of example. If we study their works, what do we find? The same doctrines are there taught as are taught by the Catholic Church today, viz., devotion to the See of St. Peter at Rome as the central authority of Christendom; beautiful homilies on the Mass and the priestly dignity as those of St. Chrysostom; exhortations to prayer for the dead, tracts on the Sacrament of Penance and the forgiveness of sins as those of St Augustine; works showing forth the dignity of the Blessed Virgin Mary and exhortations to devotion to her, as those of St. Basil, etc.

This identity of worship in the early Christian Church and the Catholic Church of to-day was demonstrated in a remarkable way by the great religious revival which took place in England during the last century and which is known as the Oxford Movement. Its leader, one of Oxford’s most brilliant scholars, was John Henry Newman, who afterwards became Cardinal Newman. He was, when the movement began, a member of the Church of England, and his idea of the Catholic Church was that she was anti-Christ. A series of sermons were preached by him to this effect.

However, he and his collaborators at the Oxford University wished to revive a spirit of fervour within the Anglican Church, and they thought that the best way to do this was to draw on the fervour of early Christianity. They chose as their slogan: “Back to the Fathers.” They took the works of the early Fathers down from their library shelves and studied them carefully. What was the result? They soon saw that the doctrines of the early church could not be reconciled with those of the Anglican Church, or any other Protestant body; but that, on the other hand, they were identical with those of the Catholic Church. Their efforts led to this result: that within 10 years over 200 Anglican clergymen and ten thousand laymen renounced Protestantism and asked to be received into the Catholic Church. That great trend towards Catholicity has continued in England, without interruption, ever since. Among the converts are famous men of every rank and calling. To mention only a few, such prominent names come to mind as those of Robert Hugh Benson, son of the Archbishop of Canterbury; Phillip Gibbs, G. K. Chesterton, Fr. Ronald Knox, Fr. Martindale, Arnold Lunn. Rev. Fr. H. A. Johnston, S.J., in his pamphlet “Religion Without Authority,” writes: “During the twenty-five years of the reign of the late King George V, 250,000 converts, including more than 300 Anglican clergymen, were received into the Catholic Church in England and Wales.”

Those who thus come into the Catholic Church are, for the most part, the cream of Protestantism. From the worldly point of view most of them have nothing to gain and often much to lose. They made the change because in the Catholic Church they found continuity of doctrine in all ages-a proof to them that she is the One True Church.

HOLINESS

The last great character on the forehead of the True Church distinguishing her from every other is holiness. It is self-evident that the True Church should be holy, because she was sent into the world to make men holy.

She ought to be holy in her founder, in her doctrines, and in her members.

We may well ask: Do the churches founded at the time of the Reformation possess that mark of holiness in their founders?

John L. Stoddard, an agnostic who was converted to the Catholic Faith, whilst still searching for truth, made a study of the character of Luther, who is acknowledged by all as the Father of Protestantism. This is his summing up of Luther’s character: “What then, had I found at the end of my investigation of the history of Luther? Unquestionably a man of remarkable energy and great ability-qualities which he had used, however, not to reform and unify Christ’s Church, but to assail, insult, and rend it; and, furthermore, a man whose record shows a grossly animal nature, immoral conduct, the assertion that a man is wholly unable to resist sensual temptations, broken vows to God, a dangerous doctrine of salvation, without regard to moral life, a violent reckless style of preaching, which produced terrible results to human life and property, a condoning of bigamy in order to retain a Prince in Protestantism, an astounding amount of vile and vituperative language, fierce intolerance of criticism, domineering arrogance in his treatment and translation of the Bible, scurrilous abuse of priests, the Pope, and the Holy Mass, a belief in witchcraft and the advocacy of burning witches, and a direct incitement to burn and plunder Jewish houses, property, and synagogues. What the results of Luther’s revolutionary system in general has been, remains to be considered; but at this point I asked myself : What is there in this man’s personality, character, or moral code, which of itself would induce me to espouse his doctrine? To this, I could only answer: Nothing” (“Rebuilding a Lost Faith,” by John L. Stoddard).

Dr. Frederick Joseph Kinsman, while still Professor of History in a Protestant Ecclesiastical College, wrote in his notes: “The Reformers were for the most part unattractive characters, most of them detestable. In England we had a succession of unlovely leaders. Henry VIII was a brute, Cranmer a poltroon, the Privy Council of Edward VI unscrupulous thieves, Elizabeth an accomplished liar. The only heroic characters were some of the martyrs for the Old Faith like Bishop—Fisher and Sir Thomas More.” (“Salve Mater,” by F. J. Kinsman).

The Catholic Church alone can make the historical claim that Jesus Christ is her Founder, as has already been shown.

The True Church must be holy in her teachings. Again the Catholic Church rings true to the high standard of perfection demanded. No matter what fashions of moral corruption have prevailed, she has never pandered to human passions in her teaching, but has always stood, often almost alone in the midst of a corrupt world, for the highest and purest morality. The fact that some of her children, even among those occupying high offices, have proved false to this, is no more an argument against her essential sanctity than the wickedness of Judas the Apostle is an argument against the sanctity of Christ Himself.

The holiness of the Church in her members does not mean that all Catholics are actually good. Christ compares His Church to a field of wheat in which grow both cockle and wheat, and to a net in which there are good and bad fish. We sadly admit that, as a result of man’s free will, with which God will not interfere, there are Catholics who abuse the great graces at their disposal, as did Judas, who was one of the chosen twelve.

Those who leave the Catholic Church do not depart for the purpose of seeking a deeper spiritual life. Some do so through ignorance or carelessness, and others do so because they find difficulty in living up to the standard required. This is notoriously the case with clergymen who have left her. “When the Pope weeds his garden,” said a certain Protestant divine, “I wish he would not throw the weeds over our fence.”

The mark of holiness consists, as the Catechism says, in the great number of the faithful, who have been eminent for holiness in all ages, i.e., the great number of saints—who in all ages have practised virtue, not in an ordinary, but in an heroic degree, and on whose holiness God has placed His own seal by the working of miracles.

The Prayer Book of the Church of England contains a long catalogue of saints. But, strange as it may seem, they are all Catholic saints, including Popes like St. Gregory, to whom England owes her Christianity. Since the Reformation, not a single name has been added to that catalogue.

On the other hand, the Catholic Church has constantly gone on adding to her list of canonised saints. I have heard it said: “There are few saints in our days, and no miracles, or at any rate very few.” I would like to challenge that statement and to be so bold as to say that, perhaps, there was never a time in the history of the Church when God raised up more saints and worked more miracles than during the past century. Let us look at the facts.

Pius XI, the late, Pope, canonised quite a long list of saints, several of whom lived in comparatively recent times, e.g., St. John Bosco, St. John Vianney, St. Madeleine Sophie Barat, St. Therese of the Infant Jesus.

Now, it should be known that the canonisation of a saint, ordinarily, requires at least four miracles. Two are demanded for the beatification and two for the canonisation. These miracles must be proved beyond all shadow of doubt, as due not to any natural cause, but to the intercession of the servant of God. “The cautiousness of the Holy See in accepting these miracles is proverbial,” writes Mgr. P. E. Hallett. “The witnesses will be usually physicians or surgeons, and, if possible, specialists in the disease alleged to have been cured. They have to testify that a complete cure has taken place and that it cannot be explained by natural laws.” He continues: “As an example, we may give one of the miracles accepted for the beatification in 1908 of St. Gabriel of Our Lady of Sorrows, who was canonised in 1920. The cure occurred in 1892. Maria Mazzarella, a girl of 17, appeared to be dying of tuberculosis, being covered all over the body with abscesses and looking like a corpse. The third day of the novena she was not expected to live for the night, but in the morning she arose, put on her clothes, and came down stairs perfectly cured” (“Canonisation,” by Mgr. P. E. Hallett, B.A.).

We may take St. Therese, the Little Flower, as the best example of a saint of our own time, because she has two sisters still living in France in the same convent in which she reached the summit of perfection. She is called the “Little Flower” because she names the autobiography which she wrote in obedience to her superior: “The Story of the Springtime of a Little White Flower.”

When she was only fifteen years of age, she obtained a special dispensation to enter the Carmelite convent, though still so young. She lived there for nine brief years, dying at the tender age of 24. Her one aim in life was to love God for those who loved Him not -to become, as she herself said, “A victim of Divine Love”-to praise Him for those who blasphemed Him, to pray for those who would not pray for themselves.

The wise man of the world, seeing this beautiful and gifted child entering behind those convent walls, never to come forth again on this side of the grave, would say, aft many have said: “It is a crime to let such things take place; the poor child is burying herself in a living tomb. These convent walls should be pulled down.” But St. Therese did not think so and, what is still more important, God did not think so.

When our little Saint was lying on her death bed, one of her sisters in religion said to her: “Sister Therese, will you look down on us from Heaven?” “I will not only look down,” she answered, “but I will come down.” “There can be no rest for me till the end of the world,” she wrote, “till the angel shall have said: ‘Time is no more.’ Then I will take my rest, then I will be able to rejoice, because the number of the elect will be complete.” “When I am dead,” she said, “I will let fail from Heaven a shower of roses.”

Scarcely had her pure soul left her body when the “Shower of Roses” she had promised began to fall in every part of the world, in the form of wonderful favours, granted through her prayers. In many cases these favours were most astounding miracles. The reports of many of these began to come into Rome. The Holy Father, Pope Pius XI, had them subjected to a careful examination. The result was that, contrary to the usual slow procedure of the Apostolic See in such matters, she was soon beautified, and in 1925 she was canonised, while four of her sisters were still living. Pius XI, one of the greatest of the Popes and also one of the greatest statesmen of his time, went further still. He made that little child the patron of all the Foreign Missions throughout the world, and he himself proclaimed her his “Guiding Star.”

Such is an example of one of those saints’ that the Catholic Church has never ceased to produce, and which she never will cease to produce till the end of the world. “By their fruits you shall know them” (Matt, VII; 16).

No other religious body can make any claim such as this.

I have made the bold statement that, perhaps, there were never more miracles worked in any age of the Church than during the past century. Christ foresaw that many false prophets would arise, not only of Protestantism, but of Communism, Nazism, etc., “to seduce (if it were (possible) even the elect” (Matt. XXIV; 24). And so He would make the position of His Church correspondingly clear.

I have already given examples of modern saints, for the canonisation of each of whom miracles were necessary.

Over and above these we have the miracles worked at the Church’s great shrines, which we may consider as God’s own seal on the holiness of His Church. Chief among these modern shrines is that of Our Lady of Lourdes, at the foot of the Pyrenees in France. Its history is well-known, for up to the outbreak of the present war, the pilgrims numbered over one million annually. The shrine first came into existence in 1858, when Christ’s Blessed Mother appeared to a little girl named Bernadette Soubirous. There were eighteen visions in all. During one of these visions Bernadette, at Our Lady’s request, made with her hand a small hole in the sand, at the foot of the rock, and the miraculous water began, for the first time, to flow in the grotto. The first miracle worked there was the cure of a blind man of Lourdes, to whose eyes the water was applied. Since that time the cures have been numbered in thousands. Over four thousand certified miracles are on record for the first fifty years of the Shrine’s existence. Now, a first class miracle is one which can be accounted for only by direct divine intervention and which it is not possible to ascribe to any natural force.

In evidence of what I have stated, let me quote the authority of one who is not a Catholic and who is one of our best known English writers, namely, John Oxenham. He tells us what he thought of Lourdes before he went there and also what he thought of it after he had visited it and examined, in person, the testimonies of the cures.

“And now, once again,” he writes, “what is Lourdes? How came it? What does it stand for in the life of the world? In common, I suppose, with most outsiders, knowing nothing whatever about it, I have always attached to it a large note of interrogation. I have ascribed its cures to something akin to faith healing, understandable enough in cases of nervous and allied diseases, but as to anything more, I have had my distinct reserves, not to say my very decided doubts.

“After what I have seen and heard and read on the spot, I am bound to say that there is more, and that more is quite beyond my understanding, or I think, that of any man.

“For, that cures unattainable by medical science and quite inexplicable in their nature, have taken place here, and are still taking place, is fact as soundly attested as the landing of William the Conqueror or the birth of Queen Victoria . . .

“Every medical man who comes to Lourdes can examine the records that have been accepted as cures, unaccountable by any human knowledge-restorations of sight, sound and speech; healing of tuberculosis in all its direst forms; of Pott’s disease (a spinal trouble); of hideous cases of lupus and cancer and incurable running sores; and even of broken bones suddenly rejoined; of the instantaneous and absolute disappearance of morbid matter, and the instant supply of all the elements necessary to complete and permanent restoration.

“Every year over a thousand doctors from every part of the world come to the bureau to study these wonders of healing . . . and they have, however reluctant, to acknowledge it all beyond their understanding.

“I, the writer of this, am a Protestant. In this matter of Lourdes I have been a doubter, simply because I really knew nothing about it. But, having seen it all with my own eyes, and sensed it all with my own heart, I am brought up against the tremendous and overwhelming fact and import of it. The cures rest upon the testimony of the greatest surgeons and physicians-testimony in many cases given unwillingly” (“The Wonder of Lourdes,” by John Oxenham):

Here, then is the testimony of a well-known Protestant writer. Most non-Catholics, as he says, who have heard of Lourdes but have never taken the trouble to examine the facts, are of the same opinion as he was before his visit. They “attach to it a large note of interrogation.” They have their “distinct reserves” and “very decided doubts.” But if, like him, they examined the facts, they too, would be compelled to acknowledge that the miracles of Lourdes are “facts as soundly attested as the landing of William the Conqueror or the birth of Queen Victoria.”

If you heard a man say he did not believe that William the Conqueror or Queen Victoria had ever existed, because he had never seen them, you would think he was acting against the clear testimony of well-proved evidence and, therefore, foolishly and unreasonably. The same applies to a man who, presented with the compelling evidence, still doubts the miracles of Lourdes. For these miracles are facts which, as Oxenham says, rest on testimony quite as sound as that for other accepted historical events.

These miracles, then, are plain facts, the records of which anyone may examine at his will.

Since Christ came on earth and established His Church, I challenge any man to find even one miracle of a similar kind outside the Catholic Church. I have sought for such a one in vain.

The reason of this is that miracles are God’s own hallmark, God’s own seal. False prophets may show “signs and wonders,” but not a real miracle in the sense defined.

Miracles have, from the beginning of Christianity, been used by God as His seal on true doctrine. Thus Christ appealed to His miracles: “Go and relate to John what you have heard and seen. The blind see, the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead rise again . . . and blessed is he that shall not be scandalised in me” (Matt. XI; 5, 6).

After healing the blind man He said to the Jews: “If I do not the works of My Father, believe Me not. But if I do, though you will not believe Me, believe the works: that you may know and believe that the Father is in Me and I in the Father” (John X; 37, 38).

And the blind man himself, after his cure, rebuked the Jews in these words: “Why herein is a wonderful thing, that you know not from whence He is, and He hath opened my eyes” (John IX; 30).

St. Peter, a short time after Pentecost, converted many by healing the man who had been lame from his birth. “For all men glorified what had been done in that which had come to pass. For the man was above forty years old, in whom that miraculous cure had been wrought” (Acts IV; 21, 22).

We ask, again, then, why do these miracles occur at Lourdes? Let us not avoid the issue, for there is only one answer. These miracles are worked for the same reason as the miracles related in the Gospels and the Acts of the Apostles were worked. As the Gospel miracles were intended by God to prove the truth of the teachings of Christ, so these are worked to prove the truth of the teachings of His Church. They are worked because Christ knew that His Church would be surrounded by false prophets and by enemies. They are worked in order that the members of the Church may have absolute certainty of the truth of doctrines proposed by the Church for their belief, and that they may have certainty that the Church which proposes them is not a human institution, but divine, with God’s seal upon her.

The Miracles of Lourdes are certainly His Seal on the value of the Catholic doctrine of Devotion to Mary, the Virgin Mother of Christ, and the Catholic doctrine of the Immaculate Conception. For the miracles are worked at the shrine of and through devotion to, Mary Immaculate.

Again, the Miracles of Lourdes are God’s seal on the truth of another great central Catholic doctrine, that of the Real Presence of Jesus Christ in the Sacred Host consecrated during the Mass. For it is a well-known fact that many of the miracles are worked, not when the sick are placed in the waters, but the moment they are blessed by the priest with the Sacred Host, during the procession of the Blessed Sacrament, God does not and cannot give His witness to a lie. Hence then, we have the great marks or characters that show forth clearly the True Church of Jesus Christ, in the midst of all counterfeits and imitations. She stands forth in such contrast and relief that she appears in the world as something quite distinct from all others, like the sun in the midst of the other heavenly bodies.

She is one and united; she belongs to all mankind; she comes to us from Christ and His Apostles; she brings forth in every age great saints of heroic sanctity and virtue; and God finally seals her as His own by the working of miracles.

This is why Catholics are so sure of their Faith, whilst around them others are “blown about by every wind of doctrine”; and this is why so many thousands seeking the light and led by the grace of God, find certainty and peace in her fold. Further, when they find her, they are prepared, if necessary, to sacrifice everything else in order to possess the treasures she has to give them-like the man in the Gospel, who sold all he had to buy the field and possess the pearl of great price hidden therein.

In this book I set out to prove that the Catholic Church is the One True Church, founded by Jesus Christ. That object, I trust, has been achieved.

For any fair-minded enquirer, the proofs that have been given should be conclusive.

One last thought I will put before my readers. It is this:

JESUS CHRIST DESIRES THAT ALL MEN SHOULD BE MEMBERS OF THE ONE TRUE CHURCH

The schisms and divisions that exist today are none of the Lord’s doing. They have been brought about by the passions of men. He desires, on the contrary, that all men should be united in one Church. He never spoke of many churches-or “the churches”-but only of one-”the church” (Matt. 18, 17). He promised only one-”I will build My church” (Matt. 16, 18). He established only one Church in which He would give to men the fullness of His graces that they might attain to salvation. “And I say to thee: That thou are Peter, and upon this rock I will build My Church. And I will give to thee the keys of the kingdom of heaven. And whatsoever thou shalt bind upon earth it shall be bound also in heaven, and whatsoever thou shalt loose upon earth, it shalt be loosed also in heaven” (Matt. 16, 18, 19).

On the contrary, Our Lord gave a solemn warning, regarding anyone who would not hear the Church: “Let him be to thee as the heathen and the publican” (Matt. XVIII; 17). Hence, no one who remains outside this Church through his own fault can be saved.

Therefore Our Lord prayed most intensely in the last hours of His mortal life: “Father that they may be one . . . as we also are one” (John XVII; 22). That all should become members of this one Church is the constant object of Our Redeemer’s desires. “Other sheep I have that are not of this fold; them also I must bring, and they shall hear my voice; and there shall be One Fold and One Shepherd” (John X; 16).

St. Paul, the divinely appointed Apostle of the nations, repeated in his day Our Lord’s desire that there be no dissensions and schisms: “I beseech you, brethren, to mark them who make dissensions and offences contrary to the doctrine you have learned and avoid them. For they that are such, serve not Christ Our Lord” (Rom. XVI; 17).

He spoke clearly to all. “God our Saviour will have all men to be saved, and to come to a knowledge of the truth” (1 Tim. II; 3, 5), and that surely, in the Catholic Church, the only Christian Church then in existence.

For, as he affirmed, there “is one God and Father of all”-”one Lord, one Mediator, Christ Jesus”-so he insisted there was one Church, “The Church which is the Body of Christ” (Eph. I; 22).

Therefore, the mention of division in the Church was so abhorrent to St. Paul that he cried out: “Is Christ then divided? Was Paul crucified for you?” (1 Cor. I; 13). He pleaded earnestly: “I beseech you, brethren, by the name of Our Lord Jesus Christ, that you all speak the same thing and that there be no schisms among you; but that you be perfect in the same mind and in the same judgment” (1 Cor. I; 10).

Beyond any shadow of doubt, then, Jesus Christ desires that all men should be members of the One True Church.

His desire is that all men find salvation and sanctity, security and peace, as members of the One True, Holy, Catholic and Apostolic Church.

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How To Pray At All Times

ST. ALPHONSUS DE LIGUORI

INDEX

This beautiful little work was first published in 1753. It is therefore one of the earliest works of St. Alphonsus. The Saint entitled it: “A method of conversing continually and lovingly with God;” and to the title he added a note to say that it had been translated from the French, but that he had “ augmented it with holy thoughts, affections and practices.” It was surely the Saint’s humility that made him thus minimise his part in the composition of the book, for as a matter of fact he entirely recast the little French treatise and made it all his own. His biographer, Father Berthe, could write of it: “In this golden little book are to be found the most familiar thoughts of the holy author.” (Life Vol. I. P. 575).

It will be easily seen that the treatise has a twofold message. St. Alphonsus, like the Divine Redeemer before him, always puts the thought of God’s justice, and the fear of punishment, before those who are obstinate in sin. But, following again the Redeemer’s example, the saintly Doctor preaches in burning words the truth that every soul wishing to serve God may go to Him with perfect, unwavering confidence. To such souls God shows infinite tenderness and love. This message of confidence to men of goodwill, is the first lesson which the Saint teaches, with convincing force, in the following pages. The second lesson is deduced from the first : those who wish to serve God should speak to Him frequently, confidingly, lovingly.

Be it remembered that this treatise is from the pen of a Doctor of the Church : every sentence of it bears the impress of his authority. A new translation of it is now given to the public in the hope that it will continue its mission of mercy, and lead men, in ever increasing numbers, to speak frequently and lovingly to God.

T.A.M., C.SS.R. Mt. St. Alphonsus, Mayfield, N.S.W.

HOW TO PRAY AT ALL TIMES

“ Watch ye, therefore, praying at all times, that you may be accounted worthy to escape all these things that are to come, and to stand before the Son of Man.”-St. Luke (21–34).

CHAPTER I

GOD WISHES US TO SPEAK TO HIM WITH CONFIDENCE AND FAMILIARITY

What is man that Thou shouldst magnify him: or why dost Thou set Thy Heart upon him? (Job, 7–17). Such was the astonished cry of Job when he considered the marvellous condescension of God in loving man and in longing to be loved by him. Hence, it is a mistake to think that great confidence and familiarity in treating with God is a want of reverence towards His infinite Majesty. You should, indeed, devout reader, worship Him in all humility and prostrate yourself before Him ; especially when you call to mind the ingratitude and sin of which, in the past, you may have been guilty. Yet this should not hinder you from treating Him with the most tender confidence and love. He is infinite majesty ; but, at the same time, He is infinite love and goodness. In God you possess the most exalted and supreme Lord; but also a Friend who loves you with the greatest possible love. He is not offended-on the contrary He is pleased-when you treat Him with that confidence, freedom and tenderness with which a child treats its mother. Hear how He invites us to go to Him and even promises to welcome us with His caresses: You shall be carried at the breasts and upon the knees they shall caress you. As one whom the mother caressseth, so will I comfort you (Isa., 66–12). As a mother delights to place her child upon her knees, there to feed or fondle it : so is our merciful God pleased to treat souls whom He loves, who have given themselves wholly to Him, and placed all their hopes in His goodness.

Bear well in mind that you have neither friend, nor brother, nor father, nor mother, nor spouse, nor lover, who loves you more than God. Divine grace is that great treasure whereby we, vile creatures and poor servants, become the dear friends of our Creator Himself : For she is an infinite treasure to men, which they that use become the friends of God (Wis., 7–14). In order to fill our hearts with confidence, He emptied Himself, as St. Paul says (Phil., 2–7), abasing Himself to our level and conversing familiarly with us: He conversed with men (Bar. 3–38). He went so far as to become an infant, to become poor, to die publicly on a cross; He went so far as to hide Himself under the appearance of bread in order to become our constant Companion and to unite Himself intimately to us: He that eateth My Flesh and drinketh My Blood abideth in Me and I in him (John, 6–57). In a word, He loves you as though He had no one else to love but you alone. You, too, should love Him alone, and all others for His sake. Of Him you may say, and, indeed, you should say: My Beloved to me and I to Him (Cant., 2–16). My God has given Himself all to me, and I give myself all to Him; He has chosen me for His beloved, and I choose Him, of all others, for my only love: My Beloved is white and ruddy, chosen out of thousands (Cant., 5–10).

Say, then, to him, often:

O my Lord! wherefore dost Thou love me thus? What good thing dost Thou see in me? Hast Thou forgotten the injuries I have done Thee? But since Thou hast treated me so lovingly, and, instead of casting me into hell, hast granted me so many favours, whom can I desire to love from this day forward but Thee, my God, my all? Ah, most gracious God, if in time past I have offended Thee, it is not so much the punishment I have deserved that now grieves me, as the displeasure I have given Thee, who art worthy of infinite love. But Thou knowest not how to despise a heart that repents and humbles itself: A contrite and humble heart, O God, Thou wilt not despise (Ps. 50–19). Ah, now, indeed, neither in this life nor in the other do I desire any but Thee alone: What have I in heaven? and besides Thee what do I desire upon earth! Thou art the God of my heart, and the God that is my portion forever (Ps. 72–25). Thou alone art and shalt be forever the only Lord of my heart, of my will; Thou my only good, my heaven, my hope, my love, my all: “ The God of my heart, and the God that is my portion forever.”

The more to strengthen your confidence in God, often call to mind His loving treatment of you, and the gracious means He has used to help you to overcome your faults and to detach you from the things of this world, in order to draw you to His holy love. Fear, therefore, to have too little confidence in treating with God, now that you are determined to love Him and to please Him by every means in your power. The mercy which He has shown you is a most sure pledge of His love for you. God is displeased with a want of confidence on the part of souls who sincerely love Him, and whom He loves. If, then, you desire to please His merciful Heart, converse with Him henceforward with the greatest possible confidence and tenderness.

I have graven thee in My hands; thy walls are always before My eyes (Isa., 49–16). In these words, God says to you in effect: Beloved soul, why are you timid or distrustful? I have written you in My hands so as never to forget to do you good. Are you afraid of your enemies? Know that the care of your defence is always before Me, so that I cannot lose sight of it. This is the thought which made David rejoice, as he cried out to God: Thou hast crowned us as with a shield of Thy good will (Ps. 5–13). Who, Lord, can ever harm us if Thou dost surround us with Thy goodness and love?

Let the thought of the gift of our Divine Lord be the greatest motive of your hope: God so loved the world as to give His only-begotten Son (John, 3–16). How can we ever fear, as the Apostle asks, that God would refuse us any good gift, seeing that He has deigned to give us His own Son? He delivered Him up for us all; how hath He not also, with Him, given us all things? (Rom., 8–32).

My delights are to be with the children of men (Prov., 8–31). If one may so express it-the paradise of God is the heart of man. Does God love you? Love Him in return. His delights are to be with you; let yours be to be with Him-to pass all your lifetime with Him, in whose company you hope to spend a blissful eternity. Accustom yourself to speak to Him alone, familiarly, with confidence and love, as to the dearest friend you have, the Friend who loves you most.

CHAPTER II

IT IS EASY AND AGREEABLE TO CONVERSE WITH GOD

If, as has been already said, it is a great mistake to speak to God with diffidence-to appear before Him as a timid slave, trembling with alarm before his prince -it would be a still greater mistake to think that conversing with God is wearisome and unpleasant. No-on the contrary her conversation hath no bitterness nor her company any tediousness (Wis., 8–16). Ask those souls who love Him with a true love, and they will tell you that in the sorrows of their life their sweetest and truest consolation is to converse lovingly with God.

Now, you are not required to apply your mind so constantly to prayer as to forget your ordinary work and recreation. “Praying always” means that, without neglecting your ordinary occupations, you treat God as you treat the friends who love you and whom you love. God is ever near you, even within you: In Him we live and move and have our being (Acts 18–28). He who would speak to God has no door to open; God is pleased when you speak to Him without reserve. Tell Him of your business, your plans, your griefs, your fears-of all that concerns you. Above all, do so (as I have already said) with confidence and entire freedom. For God is not wont to speak to the soul which does not speak to Him; in fact, being unaccustomed to speak to God, the soul would scarcely understand Him when He spoke. This is what the Lord complains of, in these words: Our sister is little: what shall we do to our sister in the day when she is to be spoken to? (Cant., 8–8). Our sister is but a child in My love; what shall we do to speak to her if she under-stands not? It is the will of God that we remember His surpassing power and His rigorous justice if we despise His grace; but, on the contrary, He wishes that we should treat Him as a most affectionate friend if we love Him, and that we should speak to Him confidingly and without restraint.

It is true that God ought to be worshipped always with the greatest reverence; however, when He deigns to make you feel His presence and when He makes known His desire that you should speak to Him as to the Friend who loves you better than any other friend, then you should open your heart to Him with the greatest liberty and confidence. She preventeth them that covet her, so that she first showeth herself unto them (Wisdom, 6–16). If you only desire His love, He will take the first step, without waiting for you to come to Him, and He will present Himself to you with all the graces and remedies of which you stand in need. He only waits for you to speak to Him, to show that He is near you, ready to hear and to comfort you: And His ears are unto our prayers (Ps. 33–16).

By reason of His immensity, God is present everywhere; but there are two places where He dwells in a particular manner. One is in the highest heavens, where He is present by that glory which He communicates to the blessed; the other is on earth-within the humble soul that loves Him: His name is holy who dwelleth in the high and holy place, and with a contrite and humble spirit (Isa., 57–15). * Our God, then, dwells in the heights of heaven, and yet He does not disdain to occupy Himself with His servants day and night in their homes or in their monastic cells. There He bestows on them His divine consolations, the least one of which surpasses all the delights that the world offers, and which He alone does not desire who has never tasted their sweetness: Oh, taste and see that the Lord is sweet (Ps. 33–9).

Friends in the world have generally certain days on which they meet and converse; on other days they are apart; but between God and you, if you wish, there need never be one hour of separation: Thou shalt rest, and thy sleep shall be sweet: the Lord will be at thy side (Prov. 3–24).

You may sleep, but God will place Himself at your side and watch over you continually: I will rest with Him and He will be a comfort in my cares and grief (Cfr. Wis. 8–9,16). When you take your rest He does not leave your bedside. He remains there, always thinking of you, that when you awake in the night He may speak to you by His inspirations, and receive from you in return some act of love, of oblation, of thanksgiving. Thus, He desires to continue even in the hours of the night His sweet and gracious converse with you. Sometimes also He will speak to you while you sleep, and make you hear His voice, so that in waking you may put in practice what He has spoken: I will speak to Him in a dream (Num. 12–6).

He is there also in the morning, to hear from you some word of affection, of confidence; to be the depository of your first thoughts, and of all the actions which you promise to perform that day to please Him; of all the griefs, too, which you offer to endure willingly for His glory and love. But as He fails not to present Himself to you at the moment of your waking, do not fail, on your part to give Him immediately a look of love, and to rejoice when your God announces to you

*Elsewhere St. Alphonsus has of course written on the third special dwelling of God with men -the sacramental presence of our Lord in the holy Eucharist. In fact in the earlier editions of the saint’s works the present treatise was always published with the Visits to the Blessed Sacrament. the glad tidings that He is not far from you (as once He may have been by reason of your sins); but that He loves you, and would be beloved by you; and at that same moment He gives you the gracious precept, Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with thy whole heart (Deut., 6–5).

CHAPTER III

ON WHAT, AND HOW, WE SHOULD CONVERSE WITH GOD

I. IN GENERAL

Never, then, forget His sweet presence, as do the greater part of men. Speak to Him as often as you can, for He does not grow weary of this nor disdain it, as do the lords of the earth. If you love Him, you will not be at a loss what to say to Him. Tell Him all that occurs to you about yourself and your affairs, as you would tell it to a dear friend. Do not look upon Him as a haughty monarch who will converse only with the great and on great matters. He, your God, is pleased to lower Himself to you, and to hear you communicate to Him your smallest and most ordinary concerns. He loves you as much-He has as much care for you-as if He had no one else to think of but you. He is as completely devoted to your interests as though the only end of His providence was to help you, of His almighty power to aid you, of His mercy and goodness to take pity on you, to do you good and to win by His kindness your confidence and love. Manifest to Him, then, freely your whole state of mind and pray to Him to enlighten you that you may perfectly accomplish His holy will. Let all your desires and aims be directed to learn His good pleasure and to do what is agreeable to His divine Heart: Commit thy way to the Lord; and desire of Him to direct thy ways and that all thy counsels may abide in Him (Ps. 36–5 and Tob. 4–20).

Say not: Why disclose all my wants to God, since He already sees and knows them better than I do? Yes, He knows them; but He acts as if He did not know the needs about which you do not speak to Him and for which you do not seek His aid. Our Saviour knew that Lazarus was dead, and yet He acted as if He did not know until Magdalen told Him of it; it was then that He comforted her by bringing her brother back to life.

2. PRAY IN YOUR TRIALS

When you are afflicted with sickness, persecution, temptation, or any other trouble, turn at once to God and ask His help. It is enough for you to lay your affliction before Him-to go to Him and say: Behold, O Lord, for I am in distress (Lam. 1–20). He will not fail to comfort you, or at least to give you strength to suffer the trial with patience, and in this case it will prove a greater good than if He had freed you altogether from it. Tell Him of all the things that make you fear, or make you .sad, and say to Him: My God, in Thee are all my hopes. I offer this cross to Thee. I resign myself to Thy will. Take pity on me and either deliver me from my trial or give me strength to endure it. He will remember immediately the promise which He made in the Gospel, of consoling and comforting all those who have recourse to Him in tribulation: Come to Me all you that labour and are burdened and I will refresh you (Mat. II-28).

He will not be displeased if you seek comfort from your friends in the hour of trial; but He wishes you to have recourse principally to Him. At least, therefore, when you have had recourse to creatures and they have not been able to console your heart, go to your Creator and say to Him: Lord, men have only words; they cannot afford me consolation. I no longer desire to be consoled by them. Thou alone art my hope; Thou alone my only love. By Thee alone do I desire to be comforted and the consolation I ask for is to do on this occasion what is most pleasing to Thee. Behold, I am ready to endure this trial for the whole of my life, and for all eternity, if such be Thy will. Only help me.

Do not be afraid of offending Him if you sometimes gently complain, saying: Why, Lord, has Thou retired afar off? (Ps. 9–1). Lord, Thou knowest that I love Thee, and that I desire nothing but Thy love. Have pity on me and help me. Do not abandon me.

If desolation should continue for a long time and grievously afflict you, unite your voice to the voice of your afflicted Jesus and say: My God, my God, why hast Thou forsaken me? (Mat. 28–46). Let the thought humble you that having offended God you do not deserve His consolations. At the same time, remember that He permits every thing for your good, and do not lose confidence: All things work together unto good to them that love God (Rom. 8–28). Say with courage, even when you feel most troubled and disconsolate: The Lord is my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear? (Ps. 26–1). Lord, Thou wilt guide me, Thou wilt save me; In Thee do I trust. In Thee, O Lord, have I hoped; let me never be confounded (Ecclus 2–11). Reflect that God loves you more than you can love yourself. Why, then, should you be afraid? David brought comfort to his heart saying: The Lord is careful for me (Ps. 39–18). Let such be your sentiments, too, when you pray; and speak in this manner to God: Lord, I cast myself into Thy arms; and I desire to think only of loving and pleasing Thee. Behold me ready to do what Thou askest of me. Thou dost not only will my good, but Thou art “careful” for it. To Thee, then, I leave the care of my salvation. In Thee I rest, and will rest for evermore, since Thou wiliest that in Thee I should place all my hopes: In peace, in the self-same I will sleep and I will rest; for Thou, O Lord, singularly hast settled me in hope (Ps. 4–9).

Think of the Lord in goodness (Wis. I-I). In these words the inspired writer exhorts us to have more confidence in the divine mercy than dread of the divine justice. For ,God is incomparably more inclined to bestow favours upon us than to chastise us, as St. James says: Mercy exalteth itself above judgment (2–13). For this reason, St. Peter exhorts us in all our fears-whether for our temporal or eternal interests-to abandon ourselves entirely to the goodness of God, who has the interests of our salvation at heart: Casting all your care upon Him, for He hath care of you (I Pet. 5–7). The royal prophet, David, has the same message of hope when he gives to God the beautiful title of our God and the God who is willing to save us: Our God is the God of salvation (Ps. 39–18). This means, as Bellarmine explains it, that it is the will of God, not to condemn, but to save all. He threatens with His displeasure those who despise Him; but He promises mercy to those who fear Him: in the words of the canticle of our Blessed Lady: His mercy is from generation to generation to them that fear Him

I place before you, devout reader, all these passages from the sacred scriptures, so that if you are ever troubled by the doubt as to whether you will be saved or no-whether you are of the number of the predestined or no-you may take courage at the thought that you know from God’s Word that He desires to save you, if only you are resolved to serve and love Him as He asks of you.

3. PRAY IN YOUR JOYS

When you receive some pleasant news, do not act like some unfaithful and thankless souls who have recourse to God in time of trouble, but forget and forsake Him when things go well with them. Show Him the fidelity that you would show to a sincere friend who rejoices in your happiness. Go at once and tell Him of your joy, and praise Him and give Him thanks, acknowledging your good fortune as a gift from His hands. Rejoice in the fact that you owe your happiness to Him, and place all your joy and comfort in Him: I will rejoice in the Lord (Hab. 3–18), and I will joy in God my Jesus (Ps. 12–6). Say to Him: My Jesus, I bless, and will ever bless Thee, for granting me so many favours, when I deserved at Thy hands not favours, but chastisements for the affronts I have offered Thee. Say to him, with the sacred Spouse: All fruits, the new and the old, my Beloved, I have kept for Thee (Cant. 7–13).,’ Lord, I give Thee thanks; I keep in memory Thy many acts of kindness, past and present, to render Thee praise and glory for them forever.

But if you love your God, you ought to rejoice more in His blessedness than in your own. He who has a dear friend sometimes takes more delight in that friend’s good fortune than if it had been his own. Comfort yourself, then, in the knowledge that God is infinitely happy. Often say to him: My beloved Lord, I rejoice more in Thy blessedness than in any happiness of my own, for I love Thee more than I love myself.

4. PRAY AFTER A FAULT

Another mark of confidence highly pleasing to our most loving God is this: that when you have committed any fault, you are not ashamed to go at once to Him and seek His pardon. Consider that God is so willing to pardon sinners that He laments their perdition, when they depart far from Him and live dead to His grace. Therefore, does he lovingly call them, saying: Why will you die, O house of Israel? Return ye, and live (Ezek. 18–31). He promises to receive a soul that has forsaken Him, if only it returns to His arms: Turn to Me . . . and I will turn to you (Zach. 1–3). Would that sinners only knew how mercifully our Saviour awaits them in order to pardon them: The Lord waiteth that He may have mercy upon you (Isa. 30–18). Would that sinners realised the desire on the part of God, not, indeed, to chastise them, but to see them converted and to embrace and press them to His Heart: As I live, saith the Lord God, I desire not the death of the wicked, but that the wicked turn from his way and live (Ezek. 33–11). He has even still more consoling words: Come and accuse Me, saith the Lord; if your sins be as scarlet, they shall be made as white as snow (Is. 1–18). In other words, He says: Sinners, repent of having offended Me and then come to Me. If I do not pardon you, accuse Me of being unfaithful to My promises; but, no, I will keep My word. If you come to Me and repent, though your soul be dyed deep crimson with crime, by My grace it shall be made white as snow. Almighty God promises even to forget the sinner’s wrong-doing if only he repents: I will not remember all his iniquities (Ezek. 18–22). As soon, then, as you fall into any fault, raise your eyes to God, make an act of love, and humbly confessing your fault, place unwavering confidence in God, saying to Him: Lord, behold, he whom Thou lovest is sick (John 11–3). The heart which Thou lovest is sick-is wounded. Heal my soul, for I have sinned against Thee (Ps. 40–5). Thou seekest penitent sinners Behold one at Thy feet, seeking Thee. The evil is committed-what must I do? Thou wilt not have me lose confidence; even after the sin which I have committed, Thou desirest my good, and I again love thee. Yes, my God I love Thee with all my heart. I am sorry for my sin, and will never more offend Thee. Thou art a God, sweet, and mild, and plenteous in mercy (Ps. 85–5); pardon me. Let me hear from Thee what Thou didst say to Magdalen: Thy sins are forgiven thee (Luke 7–48); and give me strength for the future to be faithful to Thee.

Then, in order not to be discouraged, cast your eyes upon Jesus Christ crucified; offer to the Eternal Father his merits, and confidently hope for pardon; since to pardon you he spared not his own Son. Say to him with confidence: Look on the face of thy Christ (Ps. 83–10); my God, have regard to Thy Son who has died for me and for His sake grant me pardon.

Attend, especially, devout soul, to what is commonly taught by masters of the spiritual life, who recommend you to have recourse immediately to God after you have fallen, although you should repeat the fall a hundred times in the day. Having done this, do not be disturbed. If you remain discouraged and troubled because of the fault committed, you will scarcely speak to God; your confidence will grow less your desire to love God will grow cold and you will make little or no advance in the way of the Lord. On the other hand, by having immediate recourse to God, asking His pardon and promising amendment for the future, your very faults will help you to advance in divine love. Between friends who sincerely love one another it sometimes happens that when one offends the other and then humbles himself and asks pardon, their friendship becomes stronger than ever. Do you act in like manner with regard to God: let your faults only strengthen the bonds of love which unite you to Him.

5. PRAY IN YOUR DOUBTS

Whenever you are in doubt about anything -whether it regards yourself or others-act like good friends do who always consult one another in their difficulties. Show the same mark of confidence to God; consult Him; ask Him to enlighten you, that you may decide on what is most pleasing to Him: Put Thou words in my mouth and strengthen the resolution in my heart (Jud. 9–18). Lord, make known to me what Thou wouldst have me do, to answer, and I will obey Thee: Speak, Lord, for Thy servant heareth (i Kings 3–10).

6. PRAY FOR YOUR NEIGHBOUR

Recommend to God with confidence not only your own needs but also the needs of others. How pleasing to Him it will be if you sometimes forget yourself and speak to Him of His own glory, of the miseries of others, especially those who mourn in sorrow; of the souls in purgatory, His spouses, who long to behold Him in Heaven; and of poor sinners who live deprived of His grace. Pray to Him for sinners thus:

Lord, Thou art all goodness and worthy of an infinite love: how, then, canst Thou endure in the world so many souls on whom Thou hast lavished Thy favours, and who yet have no desire to know Thee, who have no desire to love Thee, who even offend and despise Thee? Ah, my most amiable God, make Thyself known-make Thyself loved. Hallowed be Thy name, Thy kingdom come. May Thy name be adored and loved by all men. May Thy love reign in all hearts. Do not let me depart from Thee without granting me some grace for the unhappy souls for whom I pray.

7. SPEAK TO GOD OF HEAVEN. It is said that souls who in this life have but little longing for heaven are punished in purgatory with a peculiar pain, called the pain of languor. This surely is only just; because to have but little longing for heaven is to set little value on the happiness of that eternal kingdom which our Lord opened to us by His death. Remember, then, frequently to think of, and long for heaven. Say to God that your life seems an endless span, so great is your desire to go to Him, to see Him face to face, and to love Him. Long to be set free from your exile, from this world of sin, from the danger of losing divine grace, that you may arrive at that land of love where your heart will be given wholly to God. Say to Him over and over again: Lord, as long as I live on this earth I am in danger of forsaking Thee and of losing Thy love. When shall I leave this life, wherein I am forever offending Thee? When shall I go to love Thee with all my soul and unite myself to Thee without any danger of losing Thee again?

St. Teresa was ever sighing for heaven in this manner. She used to rejoice when she heard the clock strike, because another hour of life and of the danger of losing God, had passed. She so earnestly desired to die that she might see God, that she was dying with the desire to die. This was the subject of the loving poem which she composed: “I die because I do not die.”

CHAPTER IV

HOW GOD ANSWERS THE SOUL

In a word, if you wish to please the loving Heart of God, endeavour to speak to Him as often as you can, and with the fullest confidence that He will answer and speak to you in return. When you withdraw yourself from conversation with creatures to speak to God alone, He will not speak in a voice that strikes the ear, but in a voice that reaches the heart: I will lead her into the wilderness and I will speak to her heart (Osee, 2–14). He will speak by inspiration, by interior light, by manifestations of His goodness, by a tenderness which touches the heart, by assurance of pardon, by a feeling of peace, by the hope of heaven, by intimate happiness, by the sweetness of His grace, by loving and tender embraces of the soul-in a word, He will speak in a voice easily understood by those whom He loves and who have given their hearts to Him.

CHAPTER V

THE PRACTICE OF PRAYING CONSTANTLY

To conclude this treatise, I will recall briefly what has been said in the preceding pages, and I will suggest a practice by which you may render all your daily actions pleasing to God.

When you awake in the morning, let your first thought be to raise up your mind to God, to offer to His honour whatever you may have to do or suffer during the day, and to beseech Him to assist you with His holy grace. Then perform your other morning devotions, making acts of love and of gratitude, and praying and resolving to spend the day as if it were to be the last of your life.

Father Saint-Jure recommends you to make a compact every morning with God, that every time you make a certain sign, such as placing your hand upon your heart, or raising your eyes to heaven or to the crucifix, or the like, you intend thereby to make an act of love, of desire to see God loved by all, of oblation of yourself, and other acts of the same kind. When you have made these acts, place your soul in the wound of the side of Jesus and under the mantle of Mary, and beg of the Eternal Father, for the love of Jesus and Mary, to protect you during the day. Then, before all things else, be sure to make your meditation, or mental prayer, at least for half an hour. Meditate especially on the sufferings and contempt which Jesus endured in His Passion. This is the subject dearest to fervent souls, and the one best calculated to set hearts aflame with divine love. If you desire to make progress in the spiritual life there are three devotions which must be particularly dear to you: Devotion to the Passion of our Lord, to the Most Blessed Sacrament and to the Blessed Virgin Mary. In all your meditations repeat again and again acts of contrition, of the love of God and of oblation of yourself. The venerable Father Charles Caraffa, founder of the Congregation of Pious Workers, says that one fervent act of love made thus in the morning is sufficient to maintain the soul in fervour throughout the whole day.

Perform your more important acts of devotion with great care, such as going to confession, receiving Holy Communion, reciting the divine office, and other similar duties. Whenever you are going to begin some external occupation, like study or work, or the duty of your state in life, do not forget to offer it to God, praying His assistance to enable you to perform it well. Afterwards follow the example of St. Catharine of Siena and retire often to the cell of your heart in order to unite yourself to God. In a word, whatever you do, do it with God and for Him. When you leave your room, or go out of the house-and when you return-say a Hail Mary, and thus recommend yourself to the Blessed Virgin. At your meals, whether you find them pleasant to your taste, or not to your liking, offer all to God. On rising from table, say, as grace, some little prayer like this: Lord, how good Thou art to one who has offended Thee! During the day give some time to spiritual reading; and make a visit to the Blessed Sacrament and to our Lady. In the evening say the Rosary, examine your conscience, make acts of faith, hope, charity and contrition; promise to serve God more fervently and to receive the holy sacraments during life and at death, and form the intention of gaining all the indulgences within your power. When you go tp bed, reflect that you have deserved to lie in the fire of hell; then, with a crucifix in your arms, compose yourself to sleep, saying: In peace, in the self-same I will sleep and I will rest (Ps. 4–9).

(Here, in passing, I would remind the reader of indulgences which are attached to various acts of devotion; and also I would remind him of the desirability of renewing each morning the intention of gaining all the indulgences possible during the day. For reciting the acts of faith, hope and charity there is an indulgence of seven years and seven quarantines each day. If they are recited daily for a month, a plenary indulgence may be gained on the condition of going to confession and Communion and of praying for the intentions of the Church; this indulgence may be applied to the souls in purgatory or to oneself at the hour of death.

In like manner, form the intention of gaining also all the indulgences granted for saying the Rosary on beads properly blessed, the Angelus three times a day, the Litany of our Blessed Lady, the Salve Regina, the Ave Maria, and the Gloria Patri; for saying, “ Blessed be the holy and Immaculate Conception of the most Blessed Virgin Mary, Mother of God “; as also for saying, “ Blessed and praised every moment be the most holy and divine Sacrament “; for reciting the prayer Anima Christi, etc.; for bowing the head at the Gloria Patri and at the most holy names of Jesus and Mary; as also for hearing Mass; for making half an hour’s mental prayer-for this there is a partial indulgence, and also, if the meditation is made daily, a plenary indulgence on the usual conditions of confession, Communion and praying for the intentions of the Church; for genuflecting before the Blessed Sacrament *; for kissing the cross.)

In order to keep yourself recollected and united to God as far as the imperfections of human nature permit. endeavour, by means of what you see and hear, to raise your mind to God and to recall the things of eternity, For instance, when you see running water, reflect that your life is rushing on in like manner and taking you nearer to death. When you see a lamp going out for want of oil, reflect that thus your life will one day flicker out and be extinguished. When you see graves or the bodies of the dead, think of what will happen to yourself one day. When you see worldly people rejoicing in their wealth or distinction, have pity on their folly, and say to yourself: For me God is sufficient: Some trust in chariots, some in horses, but we in the name of the Lord (Ps. 19–8). Let them glory if they wish in vanity. Be it mine to glory only in the grace of God and in His holy love. When you see monuments erected to the dead, or take part in the funeral ceremonies of the great ones of this world, ask yourself the question: If their souls are lost, what will all this pomp avail them? When you look out over the ocean and see it now calm and tranquil and now lashed to fury by the winds, consider the difference there is between a soul in sin and a soul in the state of grace. When you see a tree that is withered, reflect on the fact that a

*The recent edition of the Raccolta, No. 1I6a, quotes this indulgence in these terms: “Any exterior act of reverence when passing a Church or Chapel where the Blessed Sacrament is reserved,” 100 days T.Q. For kissing the cross, the new Raccolta gives no indulgence. soul without God is fit for nothing but to be cast into the fire. If you ever happen to see one who has been guilty of some great crime, trembling with shame and fear in the presence of his judge, or his father, or of his Bishop, consider what the terror of the sinner will be in the presence of Jesus Christ, his judge. When thunder crashes through the . heavens, and you grow alarmed, reflect how those miserable souls that are damned tremble as they hear continually in hell the thunders of the divine wrath. If you ever see one who has been condemned to suffer a painful death, and who says, “ Is there, then, no longer any means of my escaping death?” consider what will be the despair of a soul when it is condemned to hell, as it says: “ Is there, then, no longer any means of escaping from eternal ruin?”

When you behold beautiful scenes in the country or along the sea coast, or when you look at flowers or fruit, and are pleased by the sight or the perfume, say: For me God has created these lovely things in this world, that I may love Him. What delights has He not prepared for me in heaven? Seeing fair plains and beautiful hills, St. Teresa used to say that they reproached her with her ingratitude to God. The Abbot de Rance, founder of La Trappe, declared that the beauty of creation around him obliged him to love God. St. Augustine had the same thought: “ The heavens and the earth and all Thy works cry out to me to love Thee.” There is a story told of a certain holy man, that in passing through the fields he would strike with a little stick the flowers and plants which he found on his way, saying, “ Be silent; do not reproach me any longer for my ingratitude to God. I have understood you; be silent; say no more.” When St. Mary Magdalene of Pazzi held in her hand any beautiful fruit or flower, she used to feel herself glowing with divine love, saying to herself, “ Behold, my God has thought from eternity of creating this fruit, this flower, in order to give it to me as a token of the love which He bears towards me.”

When you see rivers or streams, reflect that as their waters run towards the sea, and never remain still, so ought you ever tend towards God, who is your only good. When you happen to be in some vehicle drawn by horses’ say: “See what labour these innocent animals go through for my service; and how much pains do I myself take in order to serve and please my God?” When you see a little dog, which for a miserable morsel of bread is faithful to its master, reflect how much greater reason you have to be faithful to God, who has created and preserved you, and heaps upon you so many blessings. When you hear the birds sing, say: “Hearken, O my soul, to the praise which these little creatures are giving to their Creator; and what are you doing?” Then do you also praise him with acts of love. On the other hand, when you hear the cock crow, recall to your memory that there once was a time when you also, like Peter, denied your God; and renew your tears and your contrition. If you see the house or the locality in which you fell into some sin, turn to God and say in your heart: The sins of my youth and my ignorance; remember not, O Lord (Ps. 24–7).

When you see valleys fertilised by waters that descend on them from the heights of the mountains, consider that grace in a similar manner leaves those who are proud, to flow into hearts that are humble. When you see a church beautifully adorned, consider the beauty of a soul in grace, which is truly the temple of God. When you look upon the sea, consider the greatness and immensity of God. When you see fire, or candles lighted on the altar say: “For how many years ought I to have been burning in hell? But since Thou, O Lord, has not yet condemned me to that place of woe, grant that my heart may now burn with Thy holy love, even as this fuel or these candles.” When you behold the heavens and the stars, say with St. Andrew of Avellino: “My feet will one day tread upon those stars.”

Recall also frequently the mysteries of our Saviour’s love; and when you see straw or a manger or a rocky cave, remember the Infant Jesus and the stable at Bethlehem. When, you see a hammer, or a saw, or a plane, or an axe, recall how Jesus laboured like any ordinary young working man in the cottage at Nazareth. If you see cords, thorns, nails, or beams of wood, think of the sorrows and death of the Most Holy Redeemer. When St. Francis of Assisi happened to see a lamb he shed tears, as he exclaimed: “My Lord like a lamb was led to die for me.” When you look at an altar, a chalice, or a chasuble, recall to mind the great love which Jesus has shown us in giving Himself to us in the Sacrament of the Holy Eucharist.

Following the example of St. Teresa, often offer yourself to God during the day, and say: “ Behold me, O Lord, ready to do what Thou wilt. Make known to me Thy holy will; I am eager to do all that Thou askest of me.”

As the hours go by, make repeated acts of divine love, for-to quote St. Teresa again-these acts of love are the fuel by which divine love is kept burning within the heart. One day, when the Venerable Sister Seraphine of Capri happened to see the convent mule, the thought occurred to her that the poor animal could not love God. She expressed her compassion in these words: “Poor brute you can neither know nor love God.” Then a wonderful thing happened-tears welled into the animal’s eyes and forthwith began to flow abundantly. Do you imitate the saintly sister’s example. When you see, creatures incapable of knowing or loving God, use the intelligence that He has given you to repeat many acts of love.

If anything painful or disagreeable happens to you, immediately offer to God what you have to suffer, and unite your will to His. Accustom yourself to repeat in every trial: It is the will of God; it is my will also. Acts of resignation are the acts of love dearest to the Heart of God.

When you have to arrive at some decision, or to give some important advice, ask God’s help before you do so. Repeat as often as you reasonably can during the day: Incline unto mine aid, O God, as St. Rose of Lima was accustomed to do. To obtain this help of God turn frequently to the crucifix or to the picture of our Blessed Lady (which, of course, you will have in your room) and do not fail to invoke frequently the names of Jesus and Mary, especially in time of temptation. God, being infinitely kind, has the greatest desire to communicate His graces to us. The Venerable Father Alphonsus Alvarez saw our Lord, on one occasion, with His hands filled with graces, going about seeking souls to whom He might dispense them. But He will have us ask Him for them: Ask and you shall receive; otherwise He will withdraw His hands. He will, on the contrary, stretch them out to us and willingly open them to us if we invoke Him. Who ever had recourse to God, asks Ecclesiasticus, and God despised him by refusing to hear him? Who hath called upon Him, and He despised him? (2–11). David declares that God shows not only mercy, but great mercy, to those who invoke Him: For Thou, O Lord, art sweet and mild; and plenteous in mercy to all that call upon Thee (Ps. 85–5).

How good and kind God is to those who lovingly seek Him! The Lord is good to the soul that seeks Him (Lam. 3–25). He is found even by those who do not seek Him: I was found by them that did not seek Me (Rom. 10-I2); with far greater willingness He will anticipate those who seek Him in order to serve and love Him.

I conclude with a thought from St. Teresa. It is this: The souls of the just should do on earth, through a spirit of love, what the Blessed do in heaven. In heaven the saints occupy themselves only with God; all their thoughts are for His glory; all their pleasure is to love Him. Do you act in the same way. During your life on earth let God be your only happiness, the only object of your affections, the only end of all your actions and desires, until you arrive at that eternal Kingdom, where your love will be consummated and made perfect, and your desires will be completely fulfilled and satisfied.

APPENDIX

METHOD OF MENTAL PRAYER OR MEDITATION ACCORDING TO ST. ALPHONSUS

I. PREPARATION.

A recollected life and regular Spiritual Reading are the best remote preparation.

For the immediate preparation, make three short but fervent acts

(I) An Act of Adoration of God present to the soul.

Example: O my God, I believe Thou art really here present; I bow down and adore Thee. Thou art so good, I am so sinful; Thou art so great, I am only nothingness; etc.

(2) An Act of Sorrow for Sin:

Example: O my God, I am heartily sorry for all my sins of thought, word, deed, and omission, and by the help of Thy holy grace I will never sin again.

(3) A Petition for Light and Strength:

Example: O my God, give me light to see Thy holy Will, give me grace to do Thy Will. O .Wisdom of the Sacred

Heart of Jesus, direct me in all my ways. O Love of the Sacred Heart, consume me in Thy fire.

Add a Hail Mary to the Blessed Virgin and an ejaculation to St. Joseph, your Patron Saints and Angel Guardian.

II. BODY OF THE PRAYER

Use the mind in thinking on some subject as much as is necessary in order to pray fervently. But do not imagine that very much is necessary in order to pray. Do not wait for a great fire to burn up in your soul, but cherish any little spark you may feel.

To help your mind, read a text of Scripture or a short Meditation out of a book. St. Teresa used a book in her Meditations for seventeen years.

Meditate for a few minutes on any thought that has struck you; that is, think for a short time on what it means, what lessons it teaches you, and ask yourself: What have I done about this hitherto? What shall I now do? But remember, you think only in order that you may pray.

The great benefit of Mental Prayer consists less in meditation or thinking than in acts, prayers and resolutions, which are the fruits of Meditation. The thinking is the needle which draws after it the golden thread of acts, prayers and resolutions. The thread is more important than the needle. The chief part of the time of Meditation should, then, be spent in making

1. Acts and Affections.

Examples. -Acts of Humility: “My God, I am nothing in Thy sight.” Act of Thanksgiving: “My God, I thank Thee for Thy goodness.” Act of Love: “ My God, I love Thee with my whole heart. I wish to please Thee in all things. I will only what Thou wiliest. I love Thee because Thou art infinitely good. Do with me and mine all that pleases Thee, because it is Thy will.” Acts of love and of contrition are golden chains binding us to God. St. Thomas says: “ Every act of love merits eternal life.” Make then many simple but fervent acts of love and sorrow.

2. Prayers of Petition.

In mental prayer, it is extremely useful, and, perhaps better than all else, to make many earnest petitions for the graces you want. Always ask, above all, for (a) the perfect forgiveness of all past sin; (b) the perfect love of God; and (c) the grace of a holy death. “At first,” said Father Paul Segneri, S.J., “I used to employ my time of prayer in reflections and affections, but God opened my eyes, and then I gave myself to petitions, and if I have any good, it comes from this practice.”

3. Resolutions.

“The progress of a soul,” says St. Teresa, “ does not consist in thinking much of God, but in loving Him, and this love is gained by resolving to do much for Him.” Make one practical resolution that you mean to keep during the day.

III. CONCLUSION

Three short fervent acts:

(1) Thank God for the light He has given you.

(2) Renew your resolution to abstain from some fault or to do some good thing, during the day. (3) Ask the Eternal Father, for the love of Jesus and Mary, to help you to keep it. At the end of meditation, always pray for poor sinners and for the souls in Purgatory.

N.B.-The acts and prayers of petition should occupy the most of the time. Thus, in a half-hour’s prayer, give three minutes to the preparation: think for five minutes and then pray.

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How To Talk To God

FROM THE WRITINGS OF ST. ALPHONSUS LIGUORI, ADAPTED BY D. MACKINNON, C.SS.R

INDEX

This pamphlet, in the simple and clear, but ardent and soul-stirring words of a great Saint, is intended to show everyone how to speak intimately with their God.

Job was amazed.

When he realized how God had dedicated Himself to helping man- how He had demonstrated that His heart’s one interest was to love man and to be loved by man, the holy old saint cried out tremblingly, “What is man that you make so much of him? Why do you pay him any heed”?

God is infinite majesty. At the same time He is infinite goodness and love. He is the greatest personage you will ever know. But He loves you with the greatest love possible. He is not annoyed when you confide in Him.

NO GREATER LOVE

Think of it! There is no friend or brother, no father or mother, no spouse or lover, who loves you more than God. By the incalculable gift of Divine Grace the most miserable creatures can become intimate friends of God. God emptied Himself, annihilated Himself as it were, to increase our confidence. He humbled Himself to the extent of becoming a man so that He could talk with men.

He became an infant. He lived in poverty and died in public on a criminal’s cross. He went even further-He hid Himself under the appearances of bread that He might be our constant companion. “He that eats My flesh and drinks My blood lives continually in Me and I in him.”

MEET HIM HALFWAY

God loves you as though you were His only love. You must know no other love but Him. You must be able to say of Him in all truth “My beloved is mine and I am His.” God has given Himself entirely to me. I give myself completely to Him. He has made me His beloved. I want Him more than anything else in the world.

Ask Him often, “Lord, why do You love me so? What good do You see in me? Have You forgotten the wrongs I did you”?

“You have been so good to me. You could have sent me to hell. Instead You made me Your favorite. I am resolved for the future to love only You. If I have wronged You in the past, my God and my All, it is not the punishment I deserve that tortures me now, but the hurt that it caused You. You are worthy of an infinite love.”

PICTURE IT

By way of strengthening your confidence in God, think often of His love for you. Try to visualize the pains He took to save you from your own mistakes and your attachments to worldly pursuits because He wanted to draw you to Himself. And now that you have made up your mind to love and to please God with all the strength you have, be on your guard against too little confidence in Him. The mercy He has shown you is the surest pledge of the love He bears you.

He is displeased with a want of trust in the souls that love Him. If you want to please Him, talk to Him-from today on-with the greatest confidence and tenderness you can express.

HIS BEST PROOF

Above all, think of the gift God has given you in Jesus Christ to enliven your confidence. Remember, God so loved the world that he gave His only begotten Son.

“How can we fear,” pleads the Apostle, “that God will refuse us anything when He has seen fit to deliver up His own Son for us all. Must not that gift be accompanied by the grant of all other blessings?”

It is a grave mistake to be restrained before God-to come to Him as a fearful and confused slave would stumble into the presence of his prince. But it would be a greater mistake to think that talking with God is something sad and bitter. It is not. His conversation is not bitter nor His company tedious. Ask a soul who really loves God. He will tell you that he has no greater relief for the sorrows of life than in conversing lovingly with God.

It does not require your mind’s continual application. You need not become oblivious to your work and your recreation. Rather you must act towards God as you act on occasion towards those whom you love and by whom you are loved.

Your God is ever near you. He is even within you. In Him we live and move and have our being. There is no barrier to stop those who want to talk to Him. He wants you to treat Him with confidence-to tell Him of your work, your plans, your griefs, your fears-of all that concerns you. Above all, do so trustingly with an open heart.

OTHERWISE

God is not likely to speak to a soul that doesn’t speak to Him. If we despise His grace, God will make Himself known as the Lord of power and might, while if we love Him, He will treat us as our most affectionate friend. That is why He wants us to speak to Him often and without restraint.

It is a fact that God deserves the greatest reverence. But if He favors you by making you feel His presence and letting you know His desire to have you speak to Him as to One that loves you above all else, then express your feelings towards Him with freedom and confidence.

TOGETHER

God is immense. He can be found everywhere. But there are two places that He makes His home in a special way. One is in the heights of heaven where His glory unites Him with the blessed. The other is on earth in the soul that loves Him. He dwells also among chastened and humbled souls. God’s home is in heaven. But He does not consider it beneath Him to come day and night to the hillside cave or the lonely room of His servant to give those divine consolations which surpass the pleasures of the world. Only the man that has not known them fails to want them. Taste and see that the Lord is sweet.

DAYLIGHT PROGRAM

God is with you in the early morning to hear some word of affection and confidence from you, to be the first recipient of your thoughts and of all your actions which you promise to perform that day to please Him- and even of the sorrows which you offer to endure for His glory and love. And if God is with you without fail each morning in this first waking moment, you must not be negligent in giving Him a look of love in return.

Don’t be like the majority of men who forget Him. Speak to Him as often as you can. The Rulers of the earth would grow weary of you. God does not. And if you love Him, you will not be lost for something to say to Him.

Tell Him everything that affects you and your affairs as you would an intimate friend. Don’t think of Him as a haughty aristocrat who will speak only with important people on important subjects. God takes pleasure in abasing Himself to talk to us. He enjoys the tale of our tiniest trouble. He loves you and cares for you as though He had nothing else on His mind.

Don’t say: “Why tell God all my needs? He knows them already, better than I.” He does know them. But He acts as if He didn’t. Our Lord knew quite well that Lazarus was dead, but He acted as if He didn’t until Mary told Him. It was then that He comforted her by bringing her brother back to life.

TROUBLES

When you are tried by sickness or temptation, persecutions or any other sorrow, go to Him at once to ask His helping hand. It is enough for you to tell Him the trial you are enduring. “Take note of my anguish, O Lord.”

Tell God all the fears and worry that torment you. “My God,” you should say, “all my hopes are in You. I offer you this trial. I resign myself to your will. Take pity on me-deliver me from it or rather give me the strength to bear it.”

Don’t fret that God will be offended if you occasionally complain, “Why have You retired afar off, Lord? You know that I love You and want nothing but to love You. For love’s sake, help me. Do not leave me abandoned.”

If desolation lasts so long that it becomes overbearing, unite your voice to that of Jesus dying in agony on the cross.

“My God, my God, why have You forsaken me?” Still, this trial should serve only to humble you further, remembering that the man who has offended God deserves no consolations. And your confidence should be increased by the realization that God does all things and permits all things for your good. All things work together unto good.

Even when you feel utterly abandoned, have the courage to say, “The Lord is my light and my salvation, whom shall I fear? Lord, You have to enlighten me. You have to save me. I trust You. 1 have hoped in You, O Lord, let me never be put to shame.”

Knowing that there is no one who put his confidence in God and was lost, you will find peace. For no one has hoped in the Lord and been confounded.

“Think of the Lord in goodness,” the Wise Man pleads. “Instead of dreading divine justice, put more confidence in divine mercy.” “Mercy exalts itself above judgment” adds St. James, “God is immeasurably more inclined to favor than to punish.” And St. Peter feels that whether our cares are spiritual or merely temporal, our duty lies in abandoning ourselves to divine goodness, which after all, takes the greatest pains with our welfare. “Cast all your anxiety upon Him,” he says, “because He takes care of you.”

The idea lends a beautiful meaning to the title David gave our Lord when he said, “Our God is the God of salvation.”-a text St. Robert Bellarmine explains as meaning that the action which properly singles out God as our God, is that instead of condemning, He wants to save all men. If he does threaten those who disregard Him, He constantly promises mercy to those who fear Him. Didn’t our Blessed Mother sing in her Magnificat, “He has mercy on those who fear Him”?

AFTER A FAULT

Another mark of confidence most especially pleasing to your most loving God is for you to fall at His feet at once and beg His pardon when you commit a fault. Remember that He is so inclined to forgive sinners that He pleads with them, “Why must you choose death, O House of Israel? Come back and live.”

If sinners but knew the loving mercy with which The Lord waits so that He may have mercy on them. If sinners only knew the desire God has, not to chastise them, but to see them converted. He wants to embrace them, to press them to His heart. “As I am the living God,” says the Lord, “I desire not the death of the wicked but that they be converted and live. . . . Come and accuse Me,” says the Lord; “If your sins be as scarlet, they shall be made as white as snow.”

In a word, God has declared that when a soul repents all his transgressions shall be forgiven.

So, as soon as you fall into any fault, raise your eyes to God, make an act of love and with a humble confession of your fault, hope confidently for God’s pardon. Tell Him, “Lord, he whom You love is sick. The heart You love is sick and full of sores. Heal my soul for I have sinned against You.”

CHRIST’S CRY

And just so that you do not lose heart, take a careful look at Jesus Christ on the Cross. If you offer the eternal Father His merits, you can hope for pardon with certainty. It was to bring pardon to you that He spared not even His own Son. Tell Him, “My God, look at Your Son, dead for my sake. For the love of that Son, forgive me.”

Devout soul, put great store in the unanimous counsels of the masters of the spiritual life. Though you have been unfaithful to God a hundred times in a day, run to Him immediately each time and ask Him for peace immediately. Otherwise you will remain downcast and disturbed at your fault. Your trust in Him will fail. Your desire to love Him will grow cold. You will not be able to go forward in the way of the Lord. On the other hand, by having immediate recourse to God’s forgiveness and by promising amendment, your very faults will serve to advance you further in divine love.

And have trust enough to recommend not only your own needs, but those of others, too. How pleasing it is to God that sometimes you forget your own interests to speak with Him about the spread of His glory or about the troubles of others or about poor sinners living deprived of His grace- or about the souls of His suffering spouses in purgatory. HEAVEN-HIGH HOPE

There is said to be a special penalty in purgatory, the pain of languour, for souls who showed little longing for heaven in this life. This is only right. Not caring much about getting to heaven, is setting little value on an eternal kingdom purchased for us by the death of our Redeemer.

Long frequently for heaven, devout soul. Tell God that it seems like a thousand years to wait before you can see Him and love Him face to face. Build up a great desire to leave this land of banishment, this scene of sinning, with its danger of losing God’s grace, to come to a land where you can love Him with all your strength. Tell Him often, “Lord, as long as I live on this earth, I will be in danger of losing Your love. When can I leave this life in which I am always offending You? When will I be able to love You with my whole soul and unite myself to You without danger of losing You anymore?”

St. Teresa thought constantly in these terms. The striking of a clock was a real joy for her. It meant that another hour of life and the danger of losing God was past. Her desire to die in order to see God was so great that she was actually dying with this desire. “I die because I do not die,” was how she phrased it in her beautiful Canticle.

It comes down to this: If you want to please the loving heart of God, try to speak to Him as often as you can. Speak to Him with complete confidence. He will not refuse you an answer in return. True, He does not speak to you in a voice that your ears can hear. But your heart will be able to pick out His voice- when you leave creature conversations to talk to Him alone. “I will lead her out into the wilderness and I will speak to her heart.”

MORNING MEMO

By way of a practical summary, I do not want to omit the suggestion of a devout practice that will make all the actions of your day pleasing to God.

As you get up in the morning, let your first thought be to offer all that you will do or suffer that day to God’s glory, and to ask the help of His grace. Then make the other Christian acts: of thanksgiving and love, of prayer- and of the resolution to live that day as though it were the last of your life.

Father Saint Jure recommends that you make a contract with our Lord in the morning that every time you make a certain sign during the day, for example raising your eyes to heaven or to the crucifix or placing your hand on your heart, your intention will be to make it an act of love, or of desiring to see God loved, or of offering yourself to God.

When you have made these acts place your soul in the side of Jesus and under the mantle of Mary. Ask the Eternal Father for the love of Jesus and Mary to protect you during the day.

Immediately afterwards, before you do anything else, meditate for a few moments on the sorrow and shame that Jesus Christ felt upon the cross.

In the course of this meditation make repeated acts of contrition and love of God and of self oblation. Father Charles Caraffa, the venerable founder of the Pious Worker Priests, said that one such fervent act of love of God made in the morning is enough to keep the soul fervent throughout the entire day.

Afterwards, besides your special acts of devotion such as Confession and Communion, don’t forget, when you start some other kind of work, be it study or work or whatever it may be, to offer it to God. Ask His help to do it perfectly. Don’t forget the practice of St. Catherine of Siena of withdrawing frequently into the cell of your heart and uniting yourself with God.

In short, whatever you do, do it with and for God.

If you enter or leave the house or your room, always recommend yourself to the divine Mother by saying a Hail Mary. Say your grace before and after meals. Don’t forget to do some spiritual reading during the day and to visit the Blessed Sacrament and the Most Blessed Virgin Mary. Say your Rosary each day at night. Examine your conscience and recite the Christian acts of Faith, Hope, Charity, Contrition, and Amendment. Make the resolution to receive the Holy Sacraments during your life and at the hour of your death and to gain all the indulgences that you can. When you retire to bed remember that you really deserve to be lying down in the flames of hell. Grasp your crucifix as you fall asleep and say, “As soon as I lie down I fall peacefully asleep in the arms of my God.”

Make the intention of gaining all the indulgences you can each day, e.g. those granted for saying a blessed rosary, for reciting the Angelus three times a day, for saying the Litany of our Lady or the Hail Holy Queen, the Hail Mary, and the Glory be to the Father, for saying the ejaculations, “Blessed be the holy and immaculate and most pure conception of the Blessed Virgin Mary” and “Praised now and forever be the Most Holy Sacrament,” for reciting the prayer Soul of Christ, for bowing your head at the Glory be to the Father and at the names of Jesus and Mary, for hearing Mass.

Keep yourself recollected and united to God as much as you can in this life. Try on all occasions to raise your mind to God and fix your eyes on eternity.

If you see an elaborate funeral or pass a beautifully kept cemetery tell yourself, “If these souls are damned, what good does all this pomp do them?” Consider the difference between a soul in grace and a soul deprived of grace when you see the sea tranquil or stormy. When you see a withered tree, remember that a soul without God is good for nothing but to be cast into the fire. If you’re afraid during a storm, think how the damned tremble at the sound of the continual thunder of divine wrath. If you see someone condemned to a painful death crying out, “Is there no way for me to escape this death?” Think of the despair of a condemned soul in hell saying, “Is there then no way to escape eternal ruin?”

The sight of rivers or brooks should remind you that if the water you see in them is ceaselessly running to the ocean, you should ever be hastening to God Who is your only good. When you see a horse- drawn wagon, tell yourself, “What labor these innocent animals go through for my service! But how many pains do I take to serve and please my God?” when you see the gratitude a dog shows its master for a tiny piece of bread, think how much more reason you have to be faithful to God Who has created you, preserved you and provided for you-heaped His blessings on you. When you hear the song of birds, cry out, “Listen, my soul, to the praises these little animals give to their creator. And what are you doing? Praise Him with acts of love.”

When you look at a valley, remember that its fertility is due to the waters that run down from the mountain and that in the same way graces pour down from heaven on humble souls, and pass by the proud. When you see a beautiful church, remind yourself of the beauty of a soul in grace because it is a temple of God. When you look at the sea, remind yourself of the immensity and the greatness of God. When you see a fire or candles burning on the altar, tell yourself, “How many years should I have been burning in hell? But you have not sent me there, O Lord.”

Frequently offer yourself to God during the day. St. Teresa used to insist that acts of love are the wood that keep alive the fire in our soul. Say, as she did so often, “Here I am Lord. Do with me what You please. Tell me Your will so that I can do it. I want to do everything you want.”

If you fall into any fault, humble yourself at once and with an act of fervent love, try to rise again. When something adverse happens, offer your pain to God at once, uniting yourself to His holy will.

Become accustomed to repeating in any kind of adversity the little ejaculation, “Thus God wills; thus I will too.” Acts of resignation are the acts of love most precious and acceptable to the heart of God.

When you have to make any decision or give any important counsel, commend yourself to God first. Then weigh the matter and give your opinion. Turn frequently to the image of the crucified or of our Lady that you have put in your room for this purpose. Never forget, especially in time of temptation, to invoke the names of Jesus and Mary. For God is infinite goodness. His whole desire is to communicate His grace to us.

The Venerable Father Alvarez once saw our Lord, His hands filled with graces, searching for someone to give them to. But He wants us to ask Him for them. Ask and you shall receive. Otherwise, though He will gladly open them to those who ask, He will draw His hands back. “Who has called upon the Lord,” asks Ecclesiasticus, “and been despised?” While David writes that He shows not only mercy, but superabundant mercy to those who call on Him. “You are sweet and mild and full of mercy, O Lord, toward those who call upon You.”

The Lord is good to the souls that seek Him! If He lets Himself be found even by those who do not seek Him, how much more willing is He, to let Himself be found by those who do seek Him, and seek Him precisely to serve Him and love Him?

“On this earth,” St. Teresa tells us, “Holy souls have to conform themselves by love to what the souls of the blessed do in heaven.” The saints in heaven busy themselves only with God. They have no thought or enjoyment save in His glory and love. Let it be the same with you.

May God be your one happiness on this earth. May He be the only object of your affections, the only reason for all your actions and desires until you come to the eternal kingdom where your love will be completely perfected and consummated, and your desires perfectly fulfilled and satisfied.

Long live Jesus our Love-and Mary our hope!

Imprimi Potest:

John N. McCormick, C.SS.R. Provincial. St. Louis Province, Redemptorist Fathers

July 8, 1958

Imprimatur:

St. Louis, July 11, 1958 @ Joseph E. Ritter

Archbishop of St. Louis

********

Humility

THIRTY SHORT MEDITATIONS

BY RICHARD F. CLARKE, S.J

INDEX

PREFACE

As Lent is a time for humbling ourselves, it is above all a time for meditating on humility. The following pages, which present under some of its various aspects this primary and most necessary virtue, are based in great measure on the beautiful little treatise issued by Our Holy Father Pope Leo XIII on this subject. These meditations will leave the reader who uses them from the beginning of Lent free to turn, during Passion Week and Holy Week, to the Sacred Passion of Jesus Christ.

I THE IMPORTANCE OF HUMILITY

1. Humility is not only important to the welfare of our souls, but it is absolutely necessary in order to obtain grace from Almighty God. He resists the proud, and gives grace to the humble. Pride is an insuperable bar to the entrance of grace into the soul, and as we can do nothing good in the sight of God without the assistance of His grace, we must have at least some degree of humility before we can do anything pleasing to Him. In proportion to our humility will be the grace given us, and the supernatural virtue to which we shall attain. The first thing I must do if I wish to please God more is to humble myself more.

2. Humility is not only necessary to the obtaining of grace, but without it we are the enemies of God. He resists the proud; that is, they have God fighting against them, and regarding them as His enemies. How awful a thing to have God for our adversary. It was this that rendered the devils forever accursed. It was the humility of their subjection that in one moment confirmed the holy Angels in the love of God, in perfect happiness to all eternity. If I wish God to fight for me, not against me, the first condition is humility.

3. Humility is a necessary condition of entrance into the Kingdom of Heaven. “Unless you become as little children,” says our Divine Lord, “you cannot enter into the Kingdom of God.” He loves the humble, and no one who has in his heart the spirit of humility need have any fear of death and judgment. 0 my God, am I really humble? Is there not still in me, alas! a spirit of pride hateful to Thee? Drive out from me all pride and fill me with true humility, that I may be fit for Thee and fit for Heaven.

2 THE OBLIGATION OF HUMILITY

1. Every Christian as such is under an obligation to follow in the sacred footsteps of Jesus Christ, and to make His Life the model of his own. In the life of the Son of God on earth, the most wonderful feature is its humility. That the omnipotent God should so humble Himself as to take the form of the lowest of the rational creatures that He has made is an almost incredible marvel. The condescension, the lowering of Himself that is involved in it, altogether passes our power of comprehension. He could not have stooped so low unless He had been God. Thus His humility becomes the characteristic feature of the Incarnation, and in proportion as we lower ourselves we imitate Jesus upon earth.

2. Our Lord is not satisfied with teaching us by His example; He also gives a positive command. “Learn of Me for I am meek and humble of heart.” Out of all the virtues He came to teach us, He selects His humility as that to the practice of which He binds us, by which we are to become like to Him. How indifferent, how disobedient I have shown myself to our Lord’s command. Can I say that I have learnt the lesson of meekness and humbleness of heart?

3. We are also bound to practise humility as children of the Catholic Church. Humility and submission is the very essence of her teaching. Subjection to God, subjection to all lawful authority, subjection of will and intellect to the dogmas of Faith. He who is not content with subjection cannot be a really good Catholic, and no one can love subjection without humility. Examine your own heart, whether you rejoice in being subject for Christ’s sake.

3 The Foundation of Humility

1. No one can review his past life without finding therein motives enough and to spare for humbling himself before Almighty God. “We have sinned, we have committed iniquity, we have done wickedly, we have revolted; to us belongeth shame and confusion of face” (Dan. 9: 5, 7). If ever we are inclined to think much of ourselves, we have only to look back on our past years; on the deliberate sins against charity, against truthfulness, against purity; on the pride, the selfishness, the self-will, the neglect of God that have stained our lives.

2. Besides the actual sins, how many infidelities to grace! God has been so liberal with His graces, and I have been so negligent in availing myself of them. How many I might have earned if I had been faithful and had not wilfully turned aside from what God asked of me to follow my own will and pleasure. What cause for humiliation of myself! If others who have perhaps lived and died in sin had had my graces, would they not have made a far better use of them than I have? To me, O God, shame and confusion of face! I must throw myself on Thy mercy and humbly beg forgiveness. 3. When, moreover, I look at what I now am; I find fresh cause for humbling myself. I might have been a saint if I had been more faithful, and now I am one of the vilest of sinners. My soul in the sight of God is disfigured by sin, as a body is by the ulcers and sores that spoil its natural beauty and comeliness. I abound with faults innumerable; I am unworthy to appear in the presence of God. “0 hide Thy face from my sins, blot out all my iniquities!”

4 THE DEEPER FOUNDATIONS OF HUMILITY

1. The consciousness of past sin will not of itself give us the perfection of humility. It necessarily fixes the eye of the soul upon ourselves and our own doings, whereas perfect humility means the annihilation of self. We have a deeper and more solid foundation for this virtue in our own nothingness, and the absence of any sort of good save that which God has given us. Every gift of nature is simply a free gift from Him. All that is from ourselves is the marring and injuring of what we have received; the misuse of talents, money, position, influence. What folly, then, to pride ourselves on what belongs to God.

2. We are still mere nothing and less than nothing, as regards supernatural gifts. Our natural gifts are put into our hands, they remain with us and are in some sense ours; but a supernatural gift requires a fresh giving immediately from the hand of God each time that it is given us. We cannot begin any supernatural work without His preventing grace; we cannot move a step in it without fresh grace to carry on; we cannot bring it to a successful issue without the grace necessary to complete it. Do I realise, as I ought this nothingness of my own, and the absolute and continual dependence upon God for each thought or act pleasing to Him?

3. If this is so, how can I be anything but humble? To pride myself on what God does in me would be ridiculous; to pride myself on what I can do of myself would be to pride myself on all that mars and spoils the work of God. “What hast thou that thou hast not received?” asks St Paul. Yes, 0 Lord, I have only one thing that I have not received, and that is my vileness, misery, sin. Can I boast of these?

5 WHAT HUMILITY IS NOT

We are inclined sometimes to aim at a false humility, and so to be hindered in our attainment of true humility. We must be on our guard against errors in this.

I. Humility does not consist in shutting our eyes to the talents, ability, graces, and accomplishments that we possess. To do so is to refuse to acknowledge the good gifts that God had given us. If we have skill in music, in conversation, in painting, in languages, it is no humility to deny the fact. We ought to thank God for His goodness in bestowing upon us this talent. What is contrary to humility is to take the credit to ourselves, and to plume ourselves on what we have received from God.

2. Humility does not consist in self-depreciation and in running ourselves down before others. This is often a cloak for pride. Sometimes its object is to obtain from others the praise we deny to ourselves; sometimes it is a marked expression of discontent. The continual song: “What a poor worm am!” is very much opposed to the spirit of the Catholic Church, and to the cheerfulness that every Christian ought to show in his words.

3. Nor does humility consist in, or even admit of discouragement. If we are discouraged, it generally means that we think more about our own success than about the glory of God. It means that we are not perfectly resigned; it means that our pride is wounded and our self-will thwarted, or that we have worldly motives in what we do, and seek honour from men and not from God. True humility is willing to fail in its projects if God so wills it. Examine yourself on these particulars, and see whether yours is true or false humility.

6 WHAT HUMILITY IS

1. Humility is a realisation of our own nothingness before Almighty God. It is defined by St Bernard as the virtue by which a man becomes vile in his own eyes through a thorough knowledge of himself; and by St Thomas as a virtue by which a man, considering his own defects, keeps himself in the lowest place according to his degree. Think over these definitions, and examine yourself whether you are humble as judged by them.

2. But it is not enough to be conscious of our own vileness, or to esteem ourselves as nothing. We must acquiesce in, and be satisfied with our own nothingness. Humility is not perfect until self is so obliterated that we are willing to be esteemed according to our deserts. When we can honestly say that what we look to in all our thoughts, words and actions is not our own advantage and interest, but simply the honour of God, quite independently of what will further our own profit, then we may begin to thank God that we are in the way of humility.

3. If this is really the case, we shall not only esteem ourselves as vile, but we shall desire to be treated accordingly. We shall not shrink from being humbled in the eyes of men, but shall court humiliation, as it will be a satisfaction to us to be treated as we deserve. This is hard for human nature, but it is possible for all with the grace of God. It will not come at once, but we may hope to reach it some day. Have I attained it? Do I desire it? Do I even accept humiliations, or do I chafe under them and resent them?

7 AIDS TO HUMILITY

1. In order to foster in ourselves a spirit of humility, we must not only look back, but look forward. When we appear before our Lord to be judged, what reason we shall have for shame and for dismay! How can I who am so full of sin venture to face Him who sees through every disguise, and recognises the true nature of every action? How can I meet Him who has witnessed deeds of evil hidden from the eyes of men, and wicked and uncharitable thoughts indulged in secret? When I think of that day I must needs be humble.

2. Nothing will then be such a cause of shame to me as my pride. Nothing will so turn away the face of my Judge from me in anger. If God abhors the proud, how can I look forward to that day without trembling? St Teresa said that when she had the privilege of seeing our Blessed Lord in a vision, the prevailing thought in her mind was what a terrible thing it would be if He were to be angry with her. He will be angry with me, then, unless I learn more humility. 0 my God, make me humble at any cost!

3. What will be the punishment of pride? The fire of Hell, which was prepared for the devil and his angels simply and solely because of their pride. None will endure such misery as the proud; not the gluttonous, or the impure, or the covetous, except so far as their other vices fostered pride in them. 0 my God, if nothing else will make me humble, grant that the thought of the lowest Hell, reserved for the proud, may conquer in me that hateful vice of pride.

8 THE ATTAINMENT OF HUMILITY

Humility does not spring up in our souls of its own accord. On the contrary, every child of Adam has a deep root of pride within his soul. It is only by a long and painful process that the generality of mankind can attain humility. We cannot expect to become humble unless we fulfil the necessary conditions.

1. We must make many acts of humility before we can attain any proficiency in the virtue, and these must consist not merely in protesting to Almighty God that we are vile and worthless in His sight, and in humbling ourselves before Him by reason of our many sins, but in acts of humility practised towards others, by being very gentle towards those who provoke us, by bearing contradictions with patience, by accepting disappointments with patience and rebuffs without complaint. All this is a gradual process, and we must not expect proficiency in humility until we have practised long these means of attaining it.

2. We must pray for humility. No gift of God can be won without prayer, and humility least of all, because it is so opposed to the natural bent of our nature, and can never be had without a special grace from God. Prayer, moreover, is an acknowledgement of our dependence on God, and humility consists in nothing else than a recognition of this dependence and an acquiescence in it. Pray, then, for humility.

3. It is not much use praying for humility unless we also pray for the means that are to implant it in our souls. We must ask God from our hearts not to spare us if He sees that we shall not become humble without suffering. We must leave ourselves in His hands, saying only: “Omy God, make me humble at any cost!”

9 HUMILITY IN CONVERSATION

I. Our Lord tells us that by our words we shall be justified and by our words we shall be condemned, and from our words can be clearly seen whether we are humble or proud. The proud man always wants to take the lead in the conversation, and to lay down the law for the benefit of the rest. The humble man is content to be in the background. The proud man is vexed if he is not listened to; the humble man is ready to accept such disregard with peaceful resignation, as a humiliation which he welcomes from the hand of God. Do I on these points exhibit marks of pride or of humility? 2. There is, moreover, in the conversation of the proud an undercurrent of self-praise. They talk chiefly about themselves and what they have said and done, and in a tone of boastfulness more or less thinly veiled. The humble seem to forget themselves; they considerwhat is interesting to those to whom they talk, and they do this because for God’s sake they seek to please others rather than themselves. Try and cultivate this humility in conversation. It will make you loved by God and by men.

3. We perceive the contrast between humility and pride most clearly when some rebuff is given. See the meekness of the one and the indignation of the other; the patience of the one, and the eagerness of the other to assert himself and prove himself in the right. In this respect we shall do well to contemplate the perfect humility of the Holy Mother of God at the marriage-feast at Cana. In answer to the apparent rebuke that she received from her Son, she uttered not a word of self-justification, but an instruction to the servants to be exact in their obedience to Jesus.

I0 HUMILITY AND CRITICISM

1. The spirit of criticism is very dangerous to humility. He who criticises puts himself above the person or the action criticised, and becomes the self-constituted judge. He looks down on it, and this even though he gives it his patronising approval. All this is at variance with the spirit of humility. Our attitude to the actions of others should be to try to praise and admire as from below, or if we cannot do this, to abstain from speaking if we can, or to make excuses for those who are obviously in fault.

2. Unjust and bitter criticism is one of the marks of inveterate pride. The devil is the accuser of the brethren. Much that he urges against them is true, but this is no excuse. Much is false, and in this those who criticise rashly and uncharitably are sure to imitate their model. They fall unconsciously into false and rash judgements; and even where they were quite certain that they were right, they nevertheless often do serious wrong to those whom they criticise. If they were more humble, they would have a clearer and truer view of characters and actions of those around them.

3. Yet how general is this habit of criticism I Many who are reputed good Catholics run down their neighbours with a freedom which shows how little they have imbibed of the spirit of the Church and of her saints. A saint is always most gentle in his judgements and words, and seeks to imitate his Master, when He said to the poor woman trembling at His feet: “Neither do I condemn thee.” Ask yourself whether you are free from fault in this respect, and promise amendment.

11 HUMILITY AND CURIOSITY

1. Curiosity at first sight does not seem to have any direct bearing on humility, but in point of fact it is very injurious to it. Those who pry into matters which do not concern them, will find this eagerness after unnecessary information very injurious to their humility. It is opposed to the quiet, peaceful temper of one who does his own work without concerning himself with that of others; it leads to criticism, the habit of rash judgment, and a dissatisfaction with what goes on around us. It makes the mind dissipated and unsettled, and fosters a sort of unhealthy activity outside our own sphere of duty. 2. Curiosity does not mean that we should not be eager for knowledge, but not for knowledge that does not directly or indirectly help forward the work that God has given us to do. What are the affairs of our neighbours to us? We say, perhaps, that it will increase our influence to know them. It certainly will not increase our influence for good. It may puff us up with an idea of our own importance, and make us fancy that others admire us for it; but to know too much is not only most dangerous to our humility, but it alienates others from us, and makes them fear and dislike us. 3. Curiosity is one of the effects of pride. In Eve it was the immediate effect of her sin of pride. Before she had indulged a rebellious thought against God, she had no wish for knowledge that God had forbidden. It is often the stepping-stone from pride to other sins: to evil-speaking, to luxury, to greediness, to lying; and above all, to the weakening of faith and hope. Examine yourself whether you indulge in this dangerous habit of curiosity.

12 HUMILITY AND IMPULSIVE ACTION

1. Actions done on impulse and without reflection proceed from nature, not from grace. A generous nature acts from generous impulses; a selfish nature from the ever-present impulses to provide for the interests of self. But such actions do not obtain grace from God or deserve a reward in Heaven. They mark the direction of the stream, but do not assist it on its way. Ask yourself: Do I in general act from impulse? And in what direction does impulse carry me? 2. What has impulsive action to do with humility? A good deal! It always has pride at its root, like most other faults. The humble man avoids it with the greatest care. For impulsive action springs from self and fails to recognise our dependence upon God, and dependence upon God is of the essence of humility. Even though my impulses may be good, yet I must never allow myself to act merely from impulse, but must try and raise my heart to God, and so supernaturalism even those actions in which there is no time for careful deliberation.

3. How dangerous is impulse! How often 1 have had occasion bitterly to regret actions done on the impulse of the moment! I knew I had better wait before speaking or acting, but I was not willing to resist the desire to gratify my impulsive nature. I was not held back by the secret consciousness that what I was doing was sinful, imperfect, ill-judged. How many imprudent words, how many foolish actions, how many actual sins have proceeded from my forgetting or refusing to acknowledge my continual dependence upon God!

13 HUMILITY IN OUR ESTIMATE OF OURSELVES

1. There is no better test of humility than the opinion we form about others as compared with ourselves. If we had to make a list of the virtuous, in what position should we place ourselves? A man who is really humble will place himself not only last but least, with a great interval between himself and the rest of mankind. St Dominic used to place himself in spirit beneath the feet of the very demons, as being far worse than they. St Paul declared himself the very worst of sinners. Can I honestly speak of myself thus? And do I regard myself as the worst of all men in the sight of God? 2. What should be the ground of this humility? We must not attempt impossibilities. I ought not to think myself worst of all unless I really am so. It may be that I cannot truthfully say that I am in the habit of committing mortal sins. How, then, can I be worse than the notorious sinner? Yet when I think of all the graces God has given me, I must confess that if He had given them to those who sin most deeply, they would be far better than I am. My only superiority is in greater graces. Humble yourself at the thought of all the graces you have received, and of your frequent failures to co-operate with them. 3. Even if we had never sinned, this would not free us from the obligation of putting ourselves below all and beneath all. Our exemption would be no credit to ourselves, it would simply be a fresh gift of God, which ought to make us more vividly conscious of our vileness and nothingness in His sight. We must always be as nothing in His sight, but sin makes us worse than nothing, a blot upon creation, inferior to the dumb creatures that have never sinned.

14 THE PATIENCE OF HUMILITY

1. The humble are always patient, and these two virtues are most intimately connected with each other. He who forms a low estimate of himself is convinced that it is well for him to suffer, to be contradicted, to wait for others, to be thwarted in his projects, to have to bear with the ill-temper of others and the unkindness of others. All this he regards as his due, and takes it accordingly. Am I thus patient and ready to submit to disagreeables?

2. On the other hand, impatience is one of the surest signs of hidden pride. If we detect ourselves giving away to impatience and getting “put out” when we cannot get our own way and carry all before us, we may put it down as certain that we are still very deficient in the virtue of humility. Even physical impatience (except when it arises from weakness and ill-health) is a mark of pride. It shows that we have not learned perfectly the lesson of submission. Alas! how impatient I am, in spite of long years of striving after virtue. How deeply rooted pride must be in me! How can I get rid of this most detestable of vices!

3. To school ourselves in patience is one of the best means of acquiring humility. Every day a hundred occasions present themselves when we can, if we choose, check the rising spirit of impatience. We wait at a friend’s door, or while walking are kept back by persons who come in our way; or some sound annoys us, or others take our turn or place. All these are splendid opportunities of acquiring humility by schooling ourselves to patient endurance.

15 THE SWEETNESS OF HUMILITY

1. The humble are always pleasant to deal with, and pleasant in their conversation. They always try to consult the wishes of the person with whom they have to deal. They conduct themselves as his inferior. They forget themselves and their own interests, and so are able to enter into his wishes and see things as he himself sees them. They are ready to give way to him and they have a high esteem for his opinion, and their words and behaviour show this. Ask yourselves if these are your characteristics.

2. The humble show a special sweetness towards those to whom they are naturally disinclined, and whom they are tempted to regard with repugnance and aversion. Instead of turning their back on such and having nothing to do with them, they recognise in this natural aversion a sign of pride against which they must struggle and which has to be overcome. They remember that in themselves there are defects, far greater than those which they dislike in others, and remembering this, they not only put up with the disagreeable qualities of others, but determine, with a sort of Divine generosity, for this reason to show the greater kindness to them.

3. This is always the conduct of the saints. We admire their self-conquest in tenderly nursing those affected with loathsome diseases, in kissing their sores, etc., but we should admire still more their gentleness to those who insult them, their sweetness and charity to the coarse and rude and brutal. This is the way to win sinners to Christ. This is the way to attain solid peace and joy of heart. It is the charity of Christ overcoming self that makes the humble always contented and happy.

16 THE BEAUTY OF HUMILITY

1. Humility is not only sweet and pleasant to others; it is beautiful in itself. It is the primary means of attaining a likeness to God; since His image in us cannot be perfect as long as there is present in our hearts any vestige of pride. But when humility shall have driven out the opposing vice, then we become indeed like to God. We share the Divine beauty and are the object of the admiration of the holy Angels, and even of God Himself, who then speaks to the soul in the words of the Divine Lover in theCanticles: “Thou art all fair, my beloved, and there is no spot in thee.”

2. Humility is also beautiful because it is the root whence all other virtues spring. We may say of it that it has in itself the combined beauty of all. If we find a man humble, we know that he must needs be patient, charitable, unselfish, generous, obedient, and we cannot help admiring and loving him. May not my deficiency in these virtues be due to my lack of humility? 0 my God, plant firmly in my heart this most indispensable and most attractive virtue!

3. Nothing will so quickly render us conformed to the Divine beauty of the Son of God as humility. “Learn of Me, for I am meek and humble of heart.” If we desire to draw men to us and to attract them, to be efficient in moving their hearts and influencing them for good, we must first learn this lesson of humility from Him whose Soul was beautiful beyond that of all the sons of men, because none had humility like His.

17 HUMILITY UNDER TRIALS

1. When God lays His heavy hand upon us, we have an excellent opportunity of exercising the virtue of humility, and of making great progress in it. There is nothing like a good knockdown blow for teaching us our own nothingness, and for schooling us in submission to God. If we take the chastisement well and do not allow ourselves to rebel against the will of God, but rather make it an occasion for humbling ourselves the more in His sight, we shall acquire more grace from God and advance more in perfection in a day than in months of prosperity and spiritual consolation. How do I bear the trials God sends-well, or ill?

2. When the time of darkness is upon us and the gloom seems almost intolerable, there is no harm in praying for release from our misery or that God may avert some threatened blow, but the petition must always be accompanied by an act of humility: “Not my will, but Thine be done!” If we are patient, God will certainly send us speedy relief; just when we least expect it, peace will be restored to our souls.

3. Those trials are intended by God to cleanse our souls, and to root up the pride that still lurks unnoticed by us. The best prayer for us to offer under them, and indeed at all times and at all seasons, is to cry out to God: Humble me, 0 God, and I shall be humbled. Burn out of me now in this life all that displeases Thee, that I may not have to endure the burning of the life to come! Happy those who in all trouble can offer this prayer!

18 HUMILIATION

1. Humiliation is a very painful thing, and our pride shrinks from it. Yet it is a necessary step to humility. We must be humbled in order that we may be humble. We must learn not to shun dishonour if we are to learn not to crave honour from men. When some slight is shown us, when we are passed over or put down, or judged unfairly, we have an excellent opportunity of advancing in humility by accepting with patience and resignation the contempt and dishonour, and not attempting to defend ourselves or assert our rights and our claim to be treated with consideration and respect. 2. When we commit some fault which causes others to think less of us, we should be full of sorrow at the thought of having offended God, and given disedification to our neighbour, but we must not seek to shun the just contempt we have deserved, or allow ourselves to be miserable at the thought of being despised. On the contrary, we must be content to be esteemed according to our merits, and must thank God for teaching us this lesson, and giving us a greater insight into ourselves.

3. It is a sure sign of pride if we seek to shirk the consequences of our fault as Saul did when he begged Samuel still to honour him before the ancients of Israel (1 Kings 15: 30). Such conduct only brings fresh humiliations. God, who resists the proud, always brings down those who refuse to humble themselves. The devils who would not willingly bow the knee before Christ made Man, were forced to do so. So God sooner or later will force all the proud, willingly or unwillingly, to bow before Him.

19 THE PRESERVATION OF HUMILITY

1. When God gives us consolation and peace of soul we are in danger of losing our sense of dependence and our humility, unless we bear in mind: (1) That all this happiness is a gift of God which He may at any moment take from us, and that if He does but turn His face from us, our joy will be turned to sorrow and heaviness. (2) That we live continually on the edge of a precipice, and without a humble reliance upon God we shall be sure to fall over it. (3) That prayer to God is necessary to keep us humble and to keep us from attributing to ourselves His good gifts.

2. However great may be the graces given us, and however high the degree of virtue we may attain, we are never safe unless we remember that we have in ourselves an inextinguishable fount of sin and weakness, of concupiscence and rebellion against God, otherwise our very graces may prove our ruin. We must cry out to God each morning as St Philip did: “Beware of me, 0 my God, this day, lest I betray Thee.” Guard me against myself and the traitor within my heart that makes me so often unfaithful to Thee. Heal my soul, which abounds with what is displeasing to Thee. 3. Those who have great natural talents are in especial danger unless they cultivate this constant dependence upon God. Their very ability is in danger to them, and makes them plume themselves on what they are able to effect. So did Nabuchodonosor, and God took from him for a time his reason, until he recognised his own nothingness. Beware of priding yourself on anything you do, lest God take away the talent which has been the cause of so great an evil.

20 CERTAIN TEMPTATIONS AGAINST HUMILITY

1. It is not easy to be humble when we are praised and flattered. Our self-love sucks in with eagerness the words of compliment. We think they must be partly true, or at least we are tempted to exult in the high opinion that others profess of us. Such occasions are very perilous to humility. We should do well to think of Herod when the people listened to his oration, and shouted out: “It is the voice of a god and not of a man.” We read that because he took the glory to himself instead of giving it to God, he was smitten down by the Angel of the Lord and died miserably. (Acts 12.) 2. Yet we cannot help being pleased when others speak kindly of us, and we ought to be pleased when our superiors commend us. But we must observe certain precautions. (1) We must take care to rejoice rather in the kindness of others than in their praise. (2) We must strive and forget ourselves, and raise our hearts to God, and offer Him our success. (3) We must make an act of humility at the thought that if those who praise us saw us as God sees us, they would despise, not honour us.

3. If we find that we are puffed up by praise, this is a fresh proof of our imperfection. The saints disliked and dreaded praise, and when they were blamed unjustly, thanked God and took it as a mark of His love and favour. Father Lancicius, used to consider unjust reproaches as pure gains because they had no drawback of self-reproach or regret. Which do I accept most gladly, undue praise or undeserved blame?

21 HUMILITY UNDER CORRECTION

1. To have to recognise defects in ourselves is always painful to human nature. We should like to think ourselves perfect, or at any rate free from any very serious faults. But in spite of all our efforts, the fact of our many imperfections and blemishes thrusts itself upon us, and the difference between the man of good-will and lover of self is that the one turns himself with all his energy to cure his defects, and the other seeks to palliate them and excuse them, and hide them as best he can from himself and others.

2. One of the best means of getting rid of our faults is to be told of them by others. Here again another signal difference is seen between the proud man and the humble. The one is grateful for the correction, and turns at once to avail himself of it; the other resents it, and is more inclined to think how he can revenge himself on his reprover than how he can remedy his own defect. Judged by this test, am I among the proud or the humble? Is my first impulse when reproved vexation and anger, or sorrow and a wish to amend?

3. There is a closer test still. The proud sometimes avail themselves of reproof and correct their faults by reason of it. But they seek to conceal from their reprover the fact that they are following his counsel; they will not acknowledge that they are being guided by him. But those who are truly humble rejoice in letting others see that they are adopting their advice in submitting themselves to reproof with gratitude as coming from God and as a favour bestowed on them. Can I stand this test?

22 HUMILITY IN SUCCESS

I. When St Peter and his companions had, at this word of Jesus, cast their nets and enclosed the miraculous draught of fishes, St Peter’s first impulse was to throw himself at Jesus’ feet and humbly cry, “Depart from me, for I am a sinful man, 0 Lord!” Success, instead of puffing him up, made him recognise his own sinfulness and unworthiness of the favours that God had done him. This should be the effect of success on us: to humble ourselves and declare ourselves unworthy of such benefits as God has bestowed upon us.

2. Yet success is meant to encourage us. We cannot help being conscious of having done well and given satisfaction, and it would be foolish and ungrateful to ignore the fact. But our spirit must be that of St Bernard, who did not deny the marvels that God had wrought through him, but expressed his astonishment that God could make use of such an instrument. So we should regard it as a fresh proof of God’s power and love, that He should work the marvels of His grace through us. 3. Thus to humble ourselves amid the approvaland applause of others is no easy task. It is very possible to cry out, “Not unto us, 0 Lord, but to Thy Name be the praise,” and all the time to be puffed up with pride. The real test is whether we pray at such moments, “Humble me, 0 Lord, and teach me my own nothingness, and make me continually depend on Thee, and in my heart attribute to Thee all the glory and to myself nothing.” Such a prayer, if it comes from our heart, is a certain safeguard for our humility.

23 HUMILITY UNDER FAILURES

1. It may seem comparatively easy to be humble when we fail and are disappointed, but in point of fact it is a very difficult task. Failures wound our pride, and wounded pride is wont to resent the smart. Either anger, rage, or a desire for revenge on those who have caused our failure supervenes, or else we are utterly cast down and dispirited, and ready to give up all further effort. Ask yourself how failures affect you.

2. Yet even when they are not borne altogether as they should be, failures are very useful to the soul. Under their influence we can scarcely keep from having a lower opinion of ourselves, and learning the necessary lesson of endurance of what we dislike. It yields, almost without any co-operation on our part, the peaceable fruit of justice to those that are exercised thereby (Hebrews 12 :11). Though failure may bring out evil tendencies which are more powerful to us, and of which we cannot help being conscious, yet the unconscious pride that success engenders is far more dangerous to the soul. Thank God, then, for your failures.

3. What would be our spirit under failure or apparent failure? (I) We must not be cast down or dispirited, but begin again cheerily. (2) We must beware of blaming others who have caused or contributed to it. (3) We must attribute it to our own defects, or to the just judgment of God punishing our sins in the past. (4) We must thank God for it, offer it up to Him, and beg that it may make us more humble. (5) We must remember that for those who love God there is no failure. All is success under the guise of failure, for to those who love God all things work together for good.

24 CONSCIOUSNESS OF HUMILITY

How are we to know whether we are humble?

1. If we think that we are humble, we may be quite sure that we are not really humble at all. There is no more certain sign of pride than not to be aware of its existence in ourselves. What Saint ever lived who did not acknowledge and lament his pride and self-love? A Saint who should believe himself to be thoroughly humble would be no Saint at all. How far do I recognise in myself an ever-running sore of pride, making me foul and unsightly before God, who hates the proud and gives grace only to the humble?

2. If I find that I take with patience and good humour disparaging remarks, attacks, and contradictions from others, it is a good sign, but not a certain sign that I am humble. Pride that apes humility often renders man proof against what others think. He wraps himself in his cloak of pride, and looks down on their opinion of him. Nor is indifference to the praise and honour of those around a certain sign, for this too may come from pride and a spirit of contempt. 3. But if any one (1) recognises himself as full of pride; (2) dislikes the idea of being honoured and praised; (3) desires humiliations and prays for them; (4) thinks himself to deserve the worst of everything and the lowest place, then he may hope that he has begun to walk the road which in the end may through God’s grace produce in him the virtue of humility. Examine yourself on these points, thank God for any signs of progress, and lament over still remaining defects.

25 HUMILITY IN PRAYER

1. We are all anxious that God should hear and grant our prayers. He is always ready to do so. The obstacles are always on our side, and one of the chief of these is a want of humility. If God resists the proud, He is not likely to hear their prayers; hence one of the first requisites of success in my prayers is that I should humble myself before God. Then, and not till then, will my prayer reach the ears of the Most High. “The prayer of him that humbleth himself pierces the clouds.”

2. One of the most dangerous forms of pride is a contempt for others, and one that we may be very prone to without realising its ruinous effects upon our prayers. When the self-complacent Pharisee thanked God that he was not like the poor publican, he probably was quite unconscious that his prayer was offensive to God. Pride blinded him. So it often blinds us; and we little think, when in prayer we secretly congratulate ourselves on being free from certain faults which we see in our neighbours, that all the while we are displeasing God by thus harshly judging others.

3. How are we to be humble in prayer? By dwelling on our own miseries, and the good points which we see in those around, or which we should see if it were not that our own pride makes us blind to their superiority to us, and the fact that the graces God has liberally bestowed on us make our ingratitude and our want of correspondence to them all the more culpable.

26 MODELS OF HUMILITY: JESUS CHRIST

1. When we compare the humility of Jesus Christ with that which is possible to ourselves, it seems as though the virtue in us does not deserve the name, for He who was omnipotent God lowered Himself to become the lowliest of men. Such an act of humility was an infinite abasement of Himself, and had an infinite value in the sight of God. The Divine Word submitted to the obliteration of all His glory and majesty when He became man. This was humility indeed! But what is our humility? Simply placing ourselves in a position which more nearly approaches that which we deserve to occupy. When I humble myself, I simply divest myself of the false position of seeming to have any virtue or dignity or claim to honour of my own.

2. Even when He had lowered Himself to the nature of man, He was not satisfied, but He must needs seek out every kind of contempt and insult. He was regarded as a madman, as possessed with a devil, as a wine-bibber, as an impostor, as a leader of sedition, as a fool, as a criminal, as a blasphemer. All this He took upon Himself of His own accord, and deemed an honour. Is it not strange that I should shrink from sharing what the Son of God chose as the fitting treatment of His Human Nature?

3. He did more than this. He so identified Himself with human sin that He is said by the Apostle to have been made sin for us, and by this means He was able to find a fresh motive for humbling Himself as being laden with sin in the sight of His Heavenly Father. If He, the spotless Lamb, thus sought out motives of humiliation, how is it that I, on the contrary, seem to avoid all that humbles me?

27 MODELS OF HUMILITY: THE BLESSED VIRGIN

1. No one of all the children of Adam ever approached the Blessed Virgin Mary in humility. What had she to make her humble? No sin or imperfection for which to humble herself before God. Yet the greatest of sinners never humbled himself as did Mary. How was this? It was because no one save she ever recognised her own nothingness in God’s sight. This is the surest basis for humility. It is because we do not recognise our utter insignificance and the absence of any good in us save what is the gift of God, that we are so wanting in humility.

2. Thus it was that, because Mary had a right to the highest place, she always sought the lowest. This is the law that everywhere prevails. Those who deserve the lowest place seek the highest, and those who deserve the highest seek the lowest. It is the enemies of God who do not like to come down. His friends recognise the lowest place as the place most suitable for them. Am I in this respect one of God’s friends or one of His enemies?

3.Mary’s humility was also the result of her desire to be like to her Divine Son in all things. When she saw Him stoop from the highest Heaven to earth, she longed to stoop to the very dust. She placed herself in spirit beneath the feet of all, and would have placed herself lower still if it had been possible. For what humiliation could even Mary endure that was in any way comparable to that of her Son? If Mary, then, is my Queen and Mother, I will seek to imitate her in this. If the Immaculate Mother of God loved to humble herself, how much more should I, who am but a miserable worm of earth?

28 MODELS OF HUMILITY: THE SAINTS

1. Some Saints excelled in one virtue, some in another, but all were pre-eminent in humility. The heroes of the Church of God, whether under the Old or the New Dispensation, were marked off from the heroes of paganism by their humility. Thus Abraham described himself as dust and ashes. Job, in the presence of God, expressed his abhorrence of himself. David, when visited by the hand of God, thanks Him for having humbled him. Daniel declares that to him belongs shame and confusion of face. If, even without the example of Jesus and Mary before them, these Saints were so humble, what ought you to be!

2. The Saints of the New Testament are still more conspicuous for their humility. St Paul believed and declared himself to be the chief of sinners. St Bernard expressed his astonishment that God should work miracles by the hands of one so vile as he. St Dominic, before entering a city, used to pray that he might not bring down judgements upon it for his sins. St Philip Neri used to invent ingenious methods of drawing down ridicule upon himself. St Francis Borgia, when someone by accident spat in his face, merely remarked that he could not have found a more suitable place to spit upon. Compare the humility of these Saints with your pride, and humble yourself before God.

3. The Saints were not exaggerated in their sentiments. They said with truth that if God had given to the greatest of sinners the graces given to them, they might perhaps have been far holier than they. Think of the graces given you. How often you have abused and rejected them! If the Saints could lament over graces lost, how ought you to humble yourself for your ingratitude.

29 THE FRUIT OF HUMILITY

1. There is nothing that gives such a solid peace as humility. At the beginning it is difficult, and we smart under the wounds that our pride has to suffer, before it can be destroyed in us; but a holy perseverance in the practice of humility will spread over the soul such a sweet and calm tranquillity, that even in this life the soul begins to taste the joys of the heavenly paradise. Troubles, disappointments, unkindness, injustice, insults, do not disturb the quiet happiness of one who is really humble, and he appreciates continually the truth of our Lord’s words: “Learn of Me, for I am meek and humble ofheart, and you shall find rest to your souls. . . . For My yoke is easy, and My burden is light.”

2. Humility is also the best possible safeguard against the attacks of the devil. The humble man can say as our Lord did: “The prince of this world cometh, and hath nothing in Me.” Or as St Martin said when dying: “Why art thou here, 0 evil one? No malice wilt thou find in me.” Nor has the devil any chance of success in tempting the humble. Their continual disposition is one of dependence on God, and therefore no temptation has power to lead them astray. 3. Humility is also the root whence all the other virtues spring. A humble man is always charitable, for he never thinks of himself, but always of doing something for God. For the same reason he is full of zeal; he is prudent, for he always relies on God, never on himself; he is a man of prayer, because he looks to God for everything; he is pure in heart, because he never in anything desires to please himself, but always to please God. Are these points of humility to be found in me?

30 HUMILITY IN HEAVEN

1. Is there any place for humility among the Saints in Heaven? Or is it, like faith and hope, a virtue limited to this valley of tears? It might seem that in Heaven there are no motives for humility, no sins, no imperfections, no defects of any kind for which to humble ourselves. Yet only in Heaven will our humility be perfected, for only in Heaven shall we have a thorough knowledge of God and a thorough knowledge of ourselves. This knowledge will make us recognise even more than ever our own nothingness and God’s infinite perfections. Our recognition of this will make us forget ourselves as we never can do on earth, so that God will be all in all to us.

2. Will this appreciation of our own nothingness be painful? No, it will be a source of eternal joy. For then we shall be able to rejoice in God; our happiness will be unclouded by any interfering thought of self. Our admiration of His perfect beauty will absorb all our faculties. Our absolute dependence on Him will be the truest independence, it will make us conformed to the image of the Son of God, the chief glory in whose Sacred Humanity will be the result of its dependence on His Divine Nature.

3. Hence in Heaven the Angels and Saints are represented as casting down their crowns before the throne of God, as falling on their faces and crying continually, “Holy, Holy, Holy, Lord God of hosts.” If the highest dignity and chiefest joy of the Saints is to be prostrate before the throne of God, we can never humble ourselves enough on earth, since those acts of humility will make our life like the life of Heaven, and will fill us with a joy which will be a foretaste of the joy of the redeemed.

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I Am Afraid

BY. DR. J. CATARINICH

INDEX

We are told in the Bible narrative that our first parents were placed in the Garden of Paradise, where they were very happy. Adam was ordered to dress and keep the garden. The only restriction imposed on Adam and Eve was the prohibition from eating the forbidden fruit, and they were informed that if they did so they would surely die. There are several conclusions which we can draw from these statements. In a state of continual happiness one would necessarily be free from pain, worry and fear, and it was evidently the desire of the Almighty that man would in some degree merit both earthly and heavenly happiness. To retain the happiness already given him two things were necessary on the part of man; firstly obedience, and secondly work. Work, therefore, is an essential part of the happiness for which our soul hungers. Man’s time is not to be spent in idleness, but in doing those things pleasing to God. From the account given us it follows that tranquility of soul depends upon obedience to the will of Almighty God and the rational use of the talents given us. It is unnecessary for us to be delving into modern psychological explanations of the principles of pleasure and pain. God Himself laid down what constitutes happiness in His dealings with our first parents, and it was their disobedience which brought misery and death into the world. Until that disobedience took place neither of them knew what fear was, but immediately the fatal act was done they were afraid and tried to hide themselves. From then on fear became a part of man’s nature. At the bottom of his heart every man experiences fear and in many cases his whole attitude towards life depends almost entirely upon his mode of reaction to it.

Consideration of the conditions under which the primitive races still live seems to show us that when Adam was driven out of the Garden of Paradise he was deprived of the supernatural knowledge he possessed, and he and his descendants were compelled to acquire laboriously the new knowledge of how to produce those foodstuffs necessary to keep them alive. . By the sweat of his brow Adam had to obtain his daily bread. Care and worry became the lot of mankind. The beasts no longer recognised his domination and fear of all kinds took possession of him. Not the least of these fears was the ever-present one of death, which man knew was part of the punishment of Adam’s disobedience. Dangerous situations constantly arose, and it is not difficult for us to imagine how man eventually began to react to the many threats to his security. Fear of all kinds can be met by any one of three reactions: (1) The threatened individual may run away from the danger; (2) he may lie still, hiding himself, hoping that the danger will pass; (3) he may face up to it. As man familiarised himself gradually with the threats to his peace of mind he became more capable of dealing with them and experience has shown him that facing up to fear is the best method of dealing with it. With this method man has made much material progress, and it can help also in the spiritual progress of all of us. Fear, therefore, has its compensations, and it can lead us to higher and better things. It is here pointed out that fear of offending God is quite a different matter from a craven fear of God Himself.

We can have at the same time an awe-inspired reverence towards Almighty God and His perfections without abjectly fearing Him.

FEAR IN EARLY LIFE

The new-born child shows signs of fear if it feels its support being suddenly removed from under it. Fear is thus instinctive; it is born with the child and it leads to an immediate physical reaction. We know quite well that the baby has had no previous experience which would en-gender fear. Yet, fear is shown at once when its security is threatened. From the very beginning fear is going to influence the child’s life and a very great measure of responsibility for its healthy upbringing is thrust upon its parents, because its whole life pattern is formed in its first few years and that pattern is woven to a large extent by the influence of the parents. The child’s brain at birth may be regarded as a clean sheet of paper upon which the parents write with indelible ink. Every happening in the world about it imprints itself on the child’s brain, and the manner in which the child reacts and gradually adapts itself to its environment forms the ground-work upon which its future personality will be built. Unless these foundations are of a desirable kind fear and unhappiness may become the lot of the little one. To the young child the parents appear to be omnipotent, because they provide him so readily with all his needs and give him the protection which he seeks, and when they fail in any way the child’s inherent faith in them is shaken and fear enters his mind.

You have often heard it said that problem children have problem parents. This statement is in many cases perfectly true. Bitterness and intolerance between parents have a searing influence on the young child. Quarrelling, emotional storms, and broken homes cause confusion in the child’s mind and lead to loss of his sense of security. Children brought up in such an atmosphere readily develop fears of every kind.

On the other hand, timidity in a child is quite natural, but it can be increased only too readily by the parents overprotecting and coddling their offspring. It is unwise to prevent the little ones from meeting the mischievous next door youngsters and new and unexpected experiences for them should be encouraged rather than avoided. Fears are to be allayed by reassurance and the child should be induced to face up to anything that appears to be of a terrifying nature. By this means the child soon recognises he is in a position to overcome the apparent threat and becomes confident of his ability to control the adverse situation. The self-confident child will have no difficulty in facing life’s problems at a later period.

The young child delights in acquiring new information and absorbs myths and fairy tales so readily that they become part of his world of actuality, and as his vocabulary increases, he too begins to indulge in flights of imagination. The romancing of children is a normal process and must be distinguished very sharply from deliberate lying. The first lie told by a child is evidence that the parents have failed in some way, because it is always the result of fear and in the great majority of cases the fear is of punishment. Lying is no part of a child’s nature, and his natural artless simplicity is the characteristic which so captures our affection for him. Why, then, does he lie?

I am very much against the modern idea, although it is being outmoded very rapidly, that children should not be restrained or punished in any way. The sense of justice in a child is very quickly developed. He inherits the tendency to disobey, just as we did, from our first parents, and that tendency should be checked, as soon as the child is capable of understanding why disobedience is always followed by some penalty. The punishment given must not be of a severe kind and it must not be accompanied with an angry outburst on the part of the parent, who must also forget immediately the naughtiness of the child. Praise for a child when warranted should never be withheld. Intentional lying is the result of unjust or over-severe punishment, and it is due to the child’s fear of his parent. It might be said in passing that shutting a child in a dark cupboard for punishment may have a disastrous effect on his mental integrity.

Parents should show affection for their children without favouritism. It is common enough for parents quite unthinkingly to shower their love on the latest addition to the family to the exclusion of an older one. Jealousy results, and the displaced child may give way to stealing or other wayward conduct which is really intended to bring himself under notice.

Happy the child who has been reared in a truly Catholic home because fear will not enter into his relationships with his Creator, provided his upbringing has been planned on sound lines. When he reaches the age of reason such a child will have no difficulty in adding obedience to God to the obedience to his parents, which by now is part of his nature. He has already learned the simple truths of his religion, he has been taught to love God, Who made him, and he has gained some appreciation of the crucifixion and his childish affection has been poured out in his love of Christ’s Mother.

At this stage let us consider just how much the boy is capable of assessing the religious doctrines he has been absorbing, and in doing this we must be careful to make every endeavour to see things as the boy sees them, and not as our more mature adult judgment presents them to us. The whole teaching of the Church is founded on the first article of the Apostles’ Creed, “I believe in God.” That is a statement founded on cold intellectual assent. From the very fact that I am here existing in this world, from the design I see about me, from philosophical arguments and proofs if I wish to probe further, I come to the conclusion that man’s existence is not meaningless and that a supremely intelligent and powerful cause brought life to this planet. In other words, I believe in the existence of the Creator. That belief is the foundation of my religion, and, quite apart from the revelation which God has made to man, my knowledge of Him and of His attributes follows from the rational use of my intellect.

It is accepted that the child reaches the age of reason somewhere about the age of seven years. From a medico-legal viewpoint a child of this age does not possess sufficient judgment and reasoning power to be held to be legally responsible for his actions, and if his intellect developed no further he would probably remain always incapable of maintaining himself as an independent member of the community, In order to stand on his own feet as a fully responsible individual, a man must possess an intellectual capacity which is the equivalent of that possessed by a normal child, ten to eleven years of age. In other words, the faculty of reasoning is not fully developed within a short period, and the child’s religious beliefs are founded mainly upon emotion, and upon his reliance that his parents and those in authority will guide him aright. It would be foolish of us to expect the little lad of seven to deduce the existence of God from his own intellectual powers. An important duty which, if carried out without due thought, may be fraught with grave consequences is thus imposed on those who have the guidance and training of the child. This duty is the teaching of the truths of the Catholic religion in such a way that the child’s expanding intellect can grasp them fully. The purpose of his existence is now to be made plain to him and he is taught to know, love and serve God so that he will ensure his eternal happiness. Fear should form no part of this education.

Provided he has been given a sense of security in his home relationships, the young boy has no fear of his parents; on the contrary, he loves and looks up to them as patterns of what he would like to become. So, too, with his heavenly Father, Who at this stage is frequently regarded as some kind of super-parent. The boy should be taught to approach Him with all the confidence he does to his earthly parents, and it is not difficult to get him to see how reasonable it is to love and obey One Who has been so good to him. On the other hand, the child’s mind is still too immature to grasp the logical necessity of eternal punishment for those who mortally offend the Creator. Further, his conception of what constitutes grave sin is still very defective, and he tends to exaggerate the seriousness of his simple peccadillos. It seems to me that mortal sin must be a rarity in children until long after they have gained the use of reason, so that any undue emphasis on punishment is not called for. If a youngster of seven gets it into his head that he may go to hell if he steals an apple, there is something seriously wrong in the method of his instruction, because in such a case the child’s conception of God must be that He is an unjust and tyrannical Being who delights in the chastisement of offences of a minor kind. It is quite natural for such children to become fearful and apprehensive in later years. The early know-ledge of God should be concerned with Him as the Creator, infinitely loving and infinitely merciful. Nothing is more disastrous to the spiritual and mental well-being of children than the endeavour to frighten them into a compliance with the Will of God.

A prolific cause of fear is the completely unsuitable instruction sometimes given in preparing children for the first Confession and Communion, as a result of which some of them go to these Sacraments in fear and trembling. Surely, if ever we sought for evidence of Christ’s love for us, it would be found in His institution of these channels of grace which will undoubtedly lead us to heaven if we make use of them, and with what gratitude and thanksgiving should we seize the opportunities offered us ‘through the generous love of the Saviour for men. Yet thoughtless instruction of the young with admonitions and dire threats of what is entailed in making bad Confessions and Communions is sometimes given without regard to possible consequences and without any consciousness that the child may be quite incapable of evaluating just what a bad Confession or Communion consists of. Indeed, this very problem sometimes torments the minds of adults. We may be quite certain that it was furthest from Our Lord’s intention that we should be fearful of approaching Him for mercy or of participating in His Divine banquet. The child therefore should be taught that in kneeling in Confession at the feet of the priest he is approaching the Minister of Christ Himself, and that he is there to forgive him, provided he is sorry for any offence he may have committed in disobeying the commands of the good God. He should be told that Christ is never angry; on the contrary, He is greatly pleased when people tell Him they are sorry for their offences, that He Himself said so repeatedly, and that He forgave the greatest of sinners when He looked into their hearts and saw there, sorrow and a wish to please Him. The basis of these early instructions should be the desire to love Christ, to be pleasing in His sight, and to remain in this state. “Suffer the little ones to come to Me,” said the gentle Saviour, and He rebuked the Apostles for putting obstacles in the way of their approach to Him. “Christopher Robin saying his prayers” is not the poem of a Catholic. Yet, I am sure that Christ smiled when it was written. Listen also to this statement of the Redeemer: “Unless you eat My flesh and drink My blood you shall not have life in you.” Yet, who of living men is fit to do so? In spite of that, we are warned that we must go to the table of the Master. It is His infinite love for us that invites us. Infinite love means for us absolute freedom from fear. So must I instruct my child and teach him to ask Mary to take him by the hand and lead him lovingly to Her Son. Further, I must advise him that he must endeavour to be as good as possible in the eyes of God so that he may be worthy in some degree to receive a gift of which the angels are envious. The rest we can leave, because with increasing age the child’s judgment and reasoning power begin to mature, and as he absorbs the principles of his religion he will come to see, at least in part, the enormity of serious sin and the justice of severe punishment for those who remain obstinate enemies of Divine Providence.

During the years preceding adolescence, there is little cause for worry, and if the boy has been prepared carefully to face future spiritual demands, it is not likely that difficulties will arise. These years are still ones of questioning and habit formation, and wise guidance by the parents is all that is required. Over-strict discipline is to be avoided, and the boy should be encouraged to match against others his skill in sport and outdoor exercises. A healthy existence should be aimed at, and he is a wise parent who interests himself in all of his boy’s activities. The habit of attending Mass and the Sacraments should be by now an accepted part of the boy’s spiritual life and so woven into his very being that it forms an important element in his character formation. On the other hand, a too severe discipline enforced rigidly in every direction may lead to disaster. How many young people who have been reared in a puritanical home environment drop out of their later life all consideration of their relationships with God. Their fears continually played upon by their elders have led them finally to reject God, Who appears to them to be so tyrannical and so ready to threaten them with eternal misery.

FEAR IN ADOLESCENCE

During the period of adolescence the young boy or girl gradually changes into an adult person. It is usually accepted that, because this is the time of life at which the sexual activities begin, the attainment of manhood is due to this new development. Actually, such is not the case, because adult stature and activity can be reached without any development whatever of the sex functions. Nevertheless, the awakening of functions hither-to dormant does exercise an enormous influence on the whole remaining life of the individual and raises for him immediate problems, doubts and difficulties. In addition to this, many other difficulties arise, in many cases so vivid and fraught with fear that they are avoided and the individual so acting remains at the childish level of judgment throughout the whole of his life.

Adolescence is the most important period of life, because three great decisions must now be made. Life is taking on a different tinge. The period of questioning and of acceptance of the views of others is passing rapidly, and the youth is beginning to form his own opinions and to mould his conduct accordingly. His future is heavy with responsibility and depends in a large degree on the answers he gives to these questions which are now arising in his mind. The questions concern his religion, his vocation in life and his attitude towards the opposite sex.

This is an age in which every effort is being made to mould youth by means of some form of “ism.” Most of these “isms” are either indifferent to morals or atheistic in their foundations. In the present form of society it is impossible for youth to avoid the impact and the influence of current opinions and beliefs. He himself is beginning to question the truth of much which he has hitherto accepted, and the danger is that having little or no experience with which to test anything presented to him he may very easily come to wrong conclusions. In doing so, although he does not recognise the fact, his emotional outlook, rather than considered judgment will determine his line of conduct. Such being the case, it is easy to see how fear of any kind may be a predominating factor in his decisions. Again, one reverts to the enormous influence the early years of life exert on this and succeeding periods.

Everyone is familiar with the devastating effect intense emotion may have on a person’s conduct. We are all aware of what happens when panic takes possession of a crowd. A cry of “fire” in a large building will in a very short period choke up the exits with a struggling mass of human beings who, if they were capable of unemotional thinking, would calmly walk out of danger. But a much smaller degree of emotion also has its effects, and worry of any sort may be sufficient to obstruct and confuse the working of the intellect. What is frequently not understood is that fear, hidden deep in the memory and not apparent to the individual may have a similar effect. Fears of this kind may have had their origin in early life, and they readily link themselves to any set of circumstances which tend to revive these early memories. Hence it is that youth’s conception of God may be coloured to such a degree by early unfortunate impressions that rational and coldly intellectual conclusions become impossible. Added to this, the problem of pain and suffering, one of the things which now tend to disturb his peace of mind, seems to present an insuperable obstacle to one already prejudiced by a foolish conception of God founded on illogical, ill-advised and sometimes wrongful teachings concerning Him. Thus it is that when parental control is lessened and finally removed, it is not uncommon for young people to drop all religious practices and to disavow any belief in the existence of the Creator. This profession of atheism is entirely superficial, because no man can escape or evade what is printed on his heart. All men civilised or uncivilised know in their hearts that God exists, but when fear predominates it is not unusual for men to run away in the hope that the one problem which demands full attention may be ignored or forgotten. Refuge may be sought in some current theory, usually put forward as having a scientific basis and accepted by the young fellow because of his in-capacity to review in a critical way the assertions of people who have no hesitation in usurping the place of God Almighty in His relationship to the universe.

With the advent of the sexual manifestations which characterise this period, many worries and problems may disturb the young man, and to understand these difficulties some little knowledge of these manifestations is necessary. The Popes have laid it down that it is the duty of parents so to instruct their children at puberty that they will be fully prepared to meet these difficulties. The necessity of such instruction has become urgent because of the increasing paganism of the population and its indifference to spiritual matters. It should be given plainly and reverently, otherwise it is not unlikely that fears and scruples may arise and be a source of continued worry. Outside the Catholic Church the virtue of purity has lost much of its spiritual nature, and where it is advocated, the main stress seems to be laid on the necessity of avoiding possible disease and not on the wisdom of endeavouring to please God, promiscuity being almost accepted as inevitable.

Puberty brings with it the knowledge that one now possesses sexual feelings. Emphasis must be laid on the fact that these feelings have a purpose and that they have been implanted in man’s nature by God Himself in order to ensure the propagation of the human race. The young man must know that there is nothing to be feared spiritually from the knowledge he has now acquired. Sexual feelings, like all other emotions, must be controlled until such time as the purpose for which they were given us can be put into operation, that is until after marriage. These feelings arise at the same time as the beginning of the production in the body of the sexual elements necessary for conception to take place. In the male the seed as it is formed is stored within the body in reservoirs which from time to time automatically empty themselves. This recurring action is beyond control; it usually occurs during sleep and it is in no way sinful. On the other hand, any action by an unmarried person deliberately intended to cause the sexual elements to be discharged from the body is gravely sinful. So too are impure thoughts deliberately encouraged and sought after for the pleasure they can arouse. Here let it be emphasised strongly that any thought of any kind can enter the consciousness unbidden and without any foreknowledge on the part of the person concerned. In our bodies there are many organs of whose existence we are not aware, although they are doing an extraordinary amount of work for which they were designed. If anything goes wrong with the efficiency of such an organ we may become quite conscious of its existence because of pain or some other symptom of disorder. Some organs can be affected by mental processes, a great fright, for example, may cause the heart to beat more rapidly and so forcefully that we can feel it thumping. At a still higher level of sensitive reaction thought itself may activate an organ which is quiescent. This occurs when impure thoughts activate the reproductive organs. It can be seen therefore that these latter organs can be stimulated and sexual feelings can be aroused in either of two ways, one without and the other because of an act of the will.

Young people should be instructed to make a sharp distinction between what occurs independently of volition and what occurs by deliberate action. The inability to make this distinction is sometimes the cause of spiritual unrest, because of the fear that sin has been committed when guilt has really not been incurred. The awareness of sexual feeling, the knowledge of an impure thought in the mind do not constitute sin. Whether or not a person commits sin in such temptations, for temptations they are, depends on the way in which he handles the situation presented to him, and the mere fact that an impure thought cannot be banished immediately does not mean failure to resist, on the contrary, a long battle against temptation surely increases the individual’s merit in the sight of God Almighty.

There are, however, people whose judgment in these matters is gravely affected by the intrusion of fear. These are the people who, with many others, suffer from scruples. Queerly enough it is the good people who become scrupulous; they are anxious to do God’s Will, but seem unable to discriminate between what is morally indifferent and what is morally forbidden, or they may be obsessed with the idea that they have failed in some way to meet the obligations imposed on them by their religion.

SCRUPLES

Scruples may be developed in regard to the practice of any part of our religious duties. Mostly they occur because of a meticulous effort on the part of an individual under the influence of fear to confess guilt, but they are frequently found in relation to the reception of the Eucharist, the precepts of the Church, or the interpretation of one’s conduct generally. Scruples are purely personal in their development, and are a product of the mind. Such individuals are quite capable of seeing the apparent foolishness of other people who have allowed themselves to be overwhelmed by difficulties which have been exaggerated beyond all reason, but they are unable to form a like judgment of their own condition. They are lacking in insight as well as being influenced by their fears. We have already noted the effect of panic in submerging rational thought. In the scrupulous individual the want of insight and the effect of fear cloud the conscience, which becomes incapable of clear-cut decision, so that the viewpoint put forward is in every case a distorted one, and it is not difficult to see how sometimes scrupulous persons become almost panic-stricken. The condition is really one of mild mental disorder. In an advanced state it is known as foliede-doute, a condition in which decision becomes almost impossible. Attention may also be drawn to an allied mental state in which feelings of compulsion occur and in which otherwise normal people are, as it were, forced to think or do things which they recognise are absurd. Fear of dirt, fear of high places, fear of open spaces, fear of disease may all cause intense anxiety and lead to obsessional ideas and acts. A common phobia is fear of dirt, and patients under its influence may spend hours endeavouring to wash themselves free of contamination. Scrupulous persons seem to have a like compulsion. No amount of washing satisfies the one that he is clean. No amount of confession satisfies the other that his soul has been washed clean of guilt. Home life and duties cannot be carried on by the former, spiritual life and duties become almost impossible with the latter. Just as there are many people who suffer from scruples, so there are many suffering from phobias.

In the development of scruples two aspects of fear play their part. We have already seen how teaching along unsuitable lines may lay the foundations of future trouble, but fear is also the basis of what is spoken of as “the inferiority feeling.” This feeling of inferiority usually occurs in the “shut-in” type of mentality and becomes especially evident at the period of adolescence. The natural reaction to this feeling is the desire to excel. This is not always possible, and this type of individual then falls back on his own personality, the importance of which he tends to exaggerate and over-emphasise. We find in such people overweening ambition and undue sensitiveness, so that everyone must be careful not to give them offence, and in them scruples may have something in their composition in the nature of spiritual pride. It is as if the individual were asserting that his condition was of an outstanding and unusual kind, so unique that no spiritual advisor has been capable of fully understanding it. The special circumstances of his case are not given adequate consideration, and the careful evaluation of details is lacking, so that frequent change of confessor has become necessary, all to no effect. Hence, the attitude becomes one of obstinacy. No matter what advice is given, it is not accepted. The desire to do absolutely the right thing being impossible of achievement, the individual remains in a state of spiritual paralysis. He excuses his in-action because of the enormous issues involved, but the real reason of it is that he is in the grip of a fear complex.

A scrupulous person can overcome his difficulties provided he is prepared to examine them carefully in the light of what has been said above. In the first instance, he must disabuse his mind of the idea that his is a delicate conscience. It is not, it is a confused conscience, and it cannot function in a normal way because of fear and lack of insight, and it is thus indecisive and vague in its comprehension of what is right and what is wrong. He must realise that the state of spiritual inaction is not pleasing to God, judging by the parable of the servant with one talent who failed to add to it. It must there-fore be replaced by activity. Further, ;t is not possible to run away, because there will be no end to the running and there is no alternative to facing up to his difficulties if he really intends to overcome them. He must accept it that in his own case he is not capable of assessing guilt, and for that reason he must place himself unreservedly in the hands of one confessor and allow him to direct his spiritual life. The preoccupation with himself should be replaced by interest in the welfare of others and his attention fixed on the command to love thy neighbour as thyself. Confession is to be followed by Communion without fail, and no qualms of conscience are to be permitted to interfere with this all-important duty. Advice from his confessor is to be regarded as a command issued by the representative of Christ, and any failure to accept it looked upon as a lack of confidence in Christ Himself, Who indeed made things so easy for the worst of sinners. All that he himself is required to do is to carry on his spiritual activities in the way he would do if there were no scruples to hinder him. He will find that each time he faces up and does something contrary to his inclination, by so much it will be easier to do so again. At the same time, he must be prepared for a long and arduous journey on the road back to a normal conception of what his religion demands of him, and he should ever keep before his mind that as finite beings no one of us is free from imperfection; only one creature was, and she was none other than the Mother of God.

VOCATION

Concerning the decision with regard to the employment of the talents given him by God, which the young fellow is called upon to make, he should be allowed to determine his own future without interference and advice should be offered only when a patently unfortunate choice is being made or when irresolution demands it. Much of his future happiness will depend upon the wisdom of his choice, and if his future is to be assured, his employment should be one which excites his interest and absorbs his energy. Forcing young people into vocations for which they are utterly unsuited is to invite a neurotic breakdown, a by no means uncommon result of the fear and insecurity engendered by feelings of incapacity and inferiority. Foolish, therefore, is the parent who endeavours to thwart the call to a religious vocation; but quite apart from this, what answer can such a parent give Christ if he puts obstacles in the way of his child accepting the exhortation to follow Him?

MY RELIGION CAUSES ME FEAR

Modern writers on psychology, when they come to deal with religion, trace its development by means of purely theoretical speculations, one which is that it was founded originally on fear. It is alleged that early man being surrounded by all kinds of terrifying happenings and impressed particularly by the tremendous forces of Nature, as shown in the crashing thunder and awe-inspiring lightning flashes, conceived the idea that there must be supernatural beings who exerted a benign or malignant influence on his own existence. Prayer and sacrifice then became the methods either of placating or of seeking favours from these gods, who are merely a product of man’s imagination. Other explanations are given for man’s belief in God, but this one is considered because it is brought forward as a reason for the assertion that religion with this alleged basis of fear can have none but a baneful effect on man’s mentality. Religion, however, forms part of man’s very being, and belief in a Supreme Being is universal; even the races lowest in the scale of civilisation supplicate the All-powerful God. If the effects of this common belief were of a devastating nature it would, of course, show itself as a frequent cause of neurosis and insanity, but the cold fact is that religion considered from this angle has been relegated far into the background of accepted causations. Where religion does appear to form an integral part of mental disorder, on close examination it will be found that it has only coloured the form the aberration takes. Thus, when persons become very depressed, things vital in importance to them occupy their attention to the exclusion of everything else, and, if delusions occur, they will almost certainly be determined by those things in normal life to which attention was directed most frequently. For ‘example, the melancholic patient may be wholly concerned with alleged financial losses where none actually exist, and it would be quite wrong to say that these imaginary losses were the cause of his breakdown. The statements of a patient that he has lost the respect and affection of all near to him, that he is suffering from some vile disease, that his death will occur within twenty-four hours, or that he is the most wicked sinner in the world, are merely expressions of the patient’s disordered personality, and not causes of it. In a minor proportion Of cases of mental aberration it can be expected that religion, when it is of vital importance in the life of the patient, will necessarily,” occupy a primary place in his thoughts. It can also be expected that he will deal illogically with his religious ideas just as he does with those of any other subject that engages his attention. In passing, it might be stated that there is no such entity as “religious mania,” but in conditions of excitement patients sometimes claim to be some exalted personage, even God Himself.

From the foregoing statements we come to the conclusion that no one should fear that his religious beliefs will possibly cause him injury. We are further strengthened in this opinion when we find that the incidence of mental disorder amongst persons following a religious vocation is well below the general average.

Apart from the type of scrupulous individual, whose worry is that his confession is not satisfactory, there are numbers of people who fear the confessional and who make this an excuse for neglecting the Sacraments and the practice of their religion. Admittedly, it is not easy to kneel in humility before a fellow-being and confess one’s faults, and a degree of moral courage is required to do so. This moral courage is sometimes lacking in persons who are attracted to the Church, but allow Confession to remain a stumbling block to their conversion to the Faith. It should not be to anyone who realises fully the mercy of God, and it is well for us that Christ established this Sacrament through which we can obtain so readily the pardon of our faults and the tranquillity of soul which follows absolution. St. John informs us we are the sons of God (a proud claim indeed, and an indication of our worth in the sight of the Almighty), so that when we sin we actually revolt against a loving Father, Who wishes us to gain heaven through the merits which follow our obedience to Him. The revolt is against God, and it is God alone Who can forgive us. It is this fact which we as sinners must always keep in mind. When we go to Confession we actually kneel at the feet of Christ Himself, and we know that no one ever does so in vain. The representative of Christ listens to the confession of our faults, he assesses our guilt, he admonishes or advises us, he allots us some minor penance, and in the name of his Master he remits our sins. It is thus easy to see why oral Confession is necessary. It is useless for anyone who is sick to expect a doctor to cure him without any information regarding his symptoms being given to the medical practitioner. The doctor’s advice and treatment depend on the nature of the ailment, which he diagnoses from the statements made to him and from any examination of the patient which he deems necessary. Similarly in spiritual ailments, the priest advises and prescribes for the sinner after listening to his failings as described by himself. The information given the confessor is secret, and the priest cannot divulge it under any circumstances whatever, even if his life will be forfeited by his refusal to do so, and, in any case, we can be almost certain that the confession is forgotten by the priest within a few seconds; so many sinners kneel before him that one can easily imagine that no lasting impression is made on his memory by any one individual. Further, the vilest of sins can be told to the priest without any fear of any later recognition of them being evidenced by him. One of the charges laid against Christ was that he consorted with publicans and sinners, and the accusation was quite true, because they were the people who approached Christ with the utmost confidence. The sick woman said to herself that if she could touch the hem of His garment she would be healed, and it is with confidence such as this that we should go to Confession. Further, we should ever remember that Penance is a Sacrament,’ and even when no grave sin worries us, the graces given by the Sacrament are such that we should seek them often. In addition, the confession of some sin of one’s past life is an act of humility and an expression of sorrow which must be pleasing to God.

The mention of sorrow raises another point, because there are people who imagine that in order to obtain pardon for sins it is necessary to experience the emotion of sorrow, otherwise the confession cannot be of much value. This view is quite wrong, although there are people who do experience a deep emotional sorrow following the contemplation of their ingratitude to an infinitely good God. We see such in the case of St. Peter, who wept bitterly whenever he thought of his denial of Christ. But an emotional sorrow is by no means necessary. No prayer could possibly improve on that taught us by the Saviour, and in His prayer we say “forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive them who trespass against us.” Again, Christ tells us, “Ask and you shall receive.” Petitions of this nature are surely not founded on emotions, but in making them we are recognising God’s infinite goodness, His love for us as His children, and our complete dependence on Him. If one, therefore, makes a sincere acknowledgment of his faults, is determined to amend his ways and asks pardon from God, he may be sure that such contrition is perfect in its nature. The thief on the cross says humbly, “Lord, remember me when Thou comest into Thy Kingdom,” and he is immediately given the astonishing answer: “This day thou shalt be with Me in Paradise.” Sincerity, therefore, rather than the emotional reaction of sorrow is what is required of us whenever we ask God to forgive us our trespasses.

Judging by what sometimes happens when mental disorder occurs in people who are past middle age, there are some who imagine they have committed “the unpardonable sin” and who must live in a state of almost constant terror. The idea becomes an obsession, and its acceptance is apparently dependant on a feeling of hypocrisy and fear. It is amazing how wide the field is in which the unpardonable sin may be found. Sometimes it is a mere peccadillo, at other times it is some sexual fault of early life, or a sin which has been confessed at some time imperfectly or in a halting fashion, because of the person’s difficulty in expressing himself. It has already been pointed out that one’s conception of the malignity of sin is not static. As we make progress in grasping the essentials of faith, we see with increasing clearness how great an offence mortal sin is, but no matter how far we advance, we can never really get a full intellectual grasp of the height and depth of the wickedness of our disobedience to the infinite God. Our regret for past offences need never lessen, but things which belong to the dead past must not displace those of the immediate present. It is far more important for us to live this day well rather than in passing our time in morbid introspection and worry over the past. It is probable that anything in the nature of despair is more hurtful to us in the sight of Christ than any other failing, because when we despair we question the efficacy of the Sacrifice which He made for us. If, therefore, anyone desires the friendship of Christ, by that very fact he is incapable of committing unpardonable sin, and by practising the virtue of Hope, with its implicit confidence in the goodness of God and in the merits obtained for us by the passion and death of Christ, his fears will gradually lessen and finally disappear.

And here a word may be added to point out to the reader the value of Confession from the point of view of mental health. Worry of any kind which is kept locked up in the depths of consciousness has a slowly baneful effect, which shows itself eventually in a state of acute anxiety. If, however, we share our troubles by discussing them with others, much of their seeming gravity lessens, and we can then face them with greater courage. For two thousand years the Catholic Church has been listening to the spiritual worries of her children, and in Confession has given them peace and consolation. A great French psychologist and psychiatrist in one of his books remarked that “regular Confession might have been instituted by some mental specialists of genius as the best means of treating the victim of obsession. Confession acts on all these states of despondency like a healing balm to pacify trouble and quicken dying hopes” (this psychologist was not a Catholic). The mental specialist who introduced Confession was Christ, Who, in instituting the Sacrament of Penance to wash away sins, gives to the penitent sinner serenity and peace of mind beyond understanding. Thus it is that certain kinds of anxiety found in mental disturbances are almost unknown amongst Catholics who practise regular Confession.

THE FEAR OF HELL

Those who really fear hell have little reason for doing so. It is those who brush hell aside as an impossibility who need to think anxiously about their spiritual state. We possess a moral nature, which is shown in’ everything affecting: our lives, our civilisation being built upon the inevitability of punishment following upon acts which are detrimental to the public good. If all such punishment were abolished evil would become triumphant and rampant. As it is, we frequently wonder why the wicked prosper in this world while the just suffer, it being natural for us to expect that people who pay little regard to moral principles should be punished. Yet, such does not happen in this life. Looking around them at the wretched existence which many have to endure, some people become resentful towards the Creator, and even deny His existence on the pretext that a beneficent God would not permit the pain and suffering so evident throughout the world. For the same reason eternal punishment is unthinkable. Well, if God does not exist, we need not worry about hell, but if He does, it would be supreme foolishness on our part to lay down just what God should or should not do. It is not for us to question the Providence of God, and we cannot know His ultimate purpose in permitting the evil which exists in this world. Quite apart from this, it is easy to see that much of the misery of the world is man-made. The fact that hell exists has been revealed to us, and Christ has warned us of the sentence which will be imposed on the wicked in the day of Judgment, but had it not have been so, we ourselves would have reasoned into existence some kind of punishment in the next life for those who die at enmity with God. We know that disobedience to His Commands is the worst of all evils, and we recognise that the more wilful that disobedience is the more punishment it deserves.

Now, the fear of hell does not mean we should fear God. It is a good thing for us to keep before our minds the inevitable result of unrepented grievous sin and to regulate our conduct accordingly, but we have no warrant whatever for thinking that God in any way could be unjust in His judgment. If anyone goes to hell, he goes there of his own volition and because of his deliberate defiance of his Maker, but we know little about hell and nothing about the number of people who go there. Hell was created to punish spirits who did not possess bodies, and It is difficult to form any opinion regarding the nature of their punishment, beyond the fact that the loss of the beatific vision which was once theirs, must cause them eternal misery. It is very foolish of any one to allow an uneasy mind to affect his relationships with God. We should remember that neither pain nor sorrow is necessarily evil; and both may be turned to spiritual advantage if they are accepted willingly and offered to God in reparation for our failings, so that on this ground alone we can never say that suffering is meaningless. The greatest misfortune that can befall us is serious sin. Admittedly it is not the easiest thing in the world to keep ourselves in a state of grace, but it is the easiest thing in the world to regain the friendship of God if, unfortunately, we have deliberately rejected it. No matter how low we have fallen, once we say with sincerity to the Almighty, “I regret what I have done and will not do it again,” the gates of heaven are immediately opened to us. We cannot fear One Who is so generous to us, and our attitude should be one of tremendous gratitude to the loving Saviour Who made things so easy for us. The fear of hell has its value in so far as it drives home to us very vividly the danger in which we put ourselves whenever we offend God seriously, and it turns our thoughts to the necessity of seeking His forgiveness. Fortunately for us we know that through the merits of Christ it is impossible for us to exhaust the plenitude of God’s mercy, and we can have the certitude that the restoration of His friendship will not be denied us. We recognise, therefore, the existence of hell without any fear and without lessening in the slightest degree our admiration and Iove of God’s solicitude and goodness towards us.

FEAR OF DEATH

We all fear death; even those who allege death ends all things do not face its approach with equanimity. For the origin of this fear we again go back to the Garden of Paradise and the sentence of death imposed on Adam as a result of his disobedience. The fear of death became part of the very being of our first parents, and it has descended to all mankind. Instead of being translated to heaven (after a period of trial), we now must pass through the portals of death and immediately face the judgment seat of Christ. Fear is inherent in this situation because death holds for us unknown terrors, and, in addition, we are naturally fearful of what comes after it. However, we pass out of the world in much the same way as we entered it, that is, without knowledge of what is happening. Death usually follows a period of great weariness, and a gradual withdrawal of contact with the world, and it seems to be in no way a painful process; so that from a physical viewpoint it is not to be feared. But death is also uncertain, and we should pray to be delivered from an end which is sudden and unprovided for. Fear of death may be compared with the fear of hell, because both of them impress upon us the tremendous necessity of ever retaining the friendship of God. If we do this, then death can have no terror for us. Further, in the Sacrament of Extreme Unction the dying find courage, confidence and peace, and please God it will be our own good fortune to be so strengthened and purified by its reception that death will become to us merely the passage to a higher life and eternal happiness.

CONCLUSIONS

We are sometimes gibed at by those who assert that religion is the opium of the people. These advocates of materialism are well aware that those whose hopes are centred in eternity are not greatly attracted by the things of this world, and will not accept a conception of morality which is completely at variance with what God has ordained. The allegedly scientific materialist tells us we are merely super-animals, and at the same time he is foolish enough to believe that this super-animal will shed his animal characteristics and deny himself in much the same way as he dies when he defers to God’s commands. From what is happening around us we can see how false such an assumption is. But if we disregard worldly things, religion does become a kind of opium, for opium is a most valuable medicament and, like it, religion in its own sphere heals our spiritual ulcers, obliterates fear and gives us moral health. It teaches us to approach Christ with the utmost confidence. When, on the Sea of Galilee, a great storm threatened the lives of the Apostles, Our Lord slept soundly in the midst of the danger, and when, in their terror they awakened Him, and begged Him to save them, they were reproached for their lack of faith in Him, but even so, the Saviour removed their fears by commanding the obedience of the elements. Here we have the prescription of the Divine Physician designed to cure fear. Deep and abiding faith in God obliterates all fear. How frequently from the lips of Christ we hear that saying: “Thy faith hath made thee whole.” Implicit trust in Him will allay our fears and blot out our sorrows. For us, then, religion should be a constant source of joy and consolation, and if it becomes one of fear we have ourselves to blame. Nothing in the narrative of the Gospels gives us any cause for thinking that Christ’s attitude to us is one to make us afraid. On the contrary, He tells us very distinctly that He came to save sinners and to bring back wanderers from His flock. If we are fearful, then we are lacking in faith.

If we look back now at the consideration we have given to fear of various kinds we come to the conclusion that, apart from those fears which have a beneficial effect on conduct, fear of any kind should not be allowed in any way to interfere with the performance of our religious duties. Any such fears are illogical, groundless and even the result of confusion of thought. The religion of the Catholic should be to him a source of such never-ending satisfaction and joy that fear should never be part of it. We are here in this world to gain the merit of eternal happiness, which surpasses all understanding, and our religion provides us with the means of obtaining that immense reward which God’s love has prepared for us. From the time we enter into the life of this world until the time when we will be called upon to leave it, provision has been made for us by Christ Himself by means of the Sacraments to render easy our passage through this period of trial. We must have faith, complete, utter and abiding faith in Him. We believe Him to be the Son of God, and if our belief is firm, intense and impervious to the shallow but alluring arguments of His enemies, we are laying with certainty the foundations of our eternal happiness. The world calls and holds out to us the fictitious but evanescent joys which the gratification of our emotions gives, but our real happiness here should consist in an increasing knowledge and love of the infinitely good God. Every thought, every act of our lives can lead us ever nearer to Him. Work was enjoined on Adam and was necessary for his happiness and pleasing to God, and that which earns us our daily bread can be a continuous prayer to Him if we so desire. As for our usual prayers, if they be sincere, they have a stabilising effect in our approach to the Almighty, and fear cannot enter into them. Our prayers are made up from praise, love, thanksgiving and perfect faith, and to gain for us the inner peace we seek they should be simple and direct, like those of children. Children seemingly visualise the Holy Family much more vividly than adults, and talk to the Divine Infant and His Mother with a frankness that is to be envied by their elders. If we try to talk to Christ in a like manner fear will not enter into our relationships with Him. We become fearful because we lack confidence and sometimes because we do not understand. “Fear not” was the salutation of the angel to Mary and to the shepherds. Here is an exhortation from heaven, and it is the way in which we should approach the majesty of God. For we are of infinite worth, having within us the breath of God Himself, and having been redeemed by the precious blood of His Divine Son. Truly we are sons of God and heirs to His Kingdom.

SUMMARY

Fear is part of our nature. It is a consequence of the disobedience of our first parents.

Fear arises from any threat to our physical or spiritual security.

It can be met in three ways-by running away, by immobility, or by facing up to it.

Facing up to fear is the best method of dealing with it.

The opposite of fear is faith. If we courageously meet any spiritual fear armed with complete faith in the goodness and mercy of God, that fear will be vanquished.

Such fears as the fear of death and the fear of hell are of positive value, because they bring to mind the necessity of ever remaining in the grace of God. Should we sin, an Act of Perfect Contrition will in a moment restore to us the friendship of God. Fear, therefore, should never be allowed to enter our hearts and paralyse our religious activities.

Nihil Obstat:

W. M. COLLINS, D.D., PHD

Imprimatur:

@ Daniel Mannix,

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis, 10/9/48

********

I Am The Lord Thy God

BY REV. GERALD C. TREACY, S.J

INDEX

I

THE COMMANDMENTS

T HE commandments are God’s Law. The observance of God’s Law means man’s happiness here and hereafter. Most people think of the commandments in terms of hereafter. The fact is they are the only means of happiness here. God made man to be happy and showed him how to be happy by giving him the commandments. When the world was made up of only two people it was a happy world. But they spoiled it. They broke God’s rule of happiness, His commandments. It has been an unhappy world ever since. For men have followed the folly of the first man and woman and have tried to make a happy world by ignoring God’s Law. The result has been failure. God’s Law is a plan for human living, a way for human happiness. So God’s Law is worth knowing and worth keeping.

The commandments were first given to Moses for the Jewish People. In their century-old history they were happy when they kept them, unhappy when they violated them. When our blessed Lord came to earth He proclaimed the commandments and made their meaning clear. His Church, which is His Living Voice and His Living Self, continues to proclaim them and explain them. There are ten commandments. Their message is love of God and love of fellow man. Love means action. If you love Me keep My commandments. Love means life, true life, a share in God’s Life. If any man love Me, My Father will love him, and we will come to him, and dwell with him. We only really live when God lives in us. St. Paul expressed it: “I no longer live alone; God lives in me.” Our Saviour made it clear that we cannot live alone. Life without love is death. And there is no true love without the love of God as beginning, middle and end. When a man says:

“I love my fellow man. I do not have to love God,” he is fooling himself. For he only loves himself and serves himself in whatever he does for his fellow man. Christ did not say, “in as much as you love your fellow man because he is your fellow man, you love Me.” But the first thing He declared was: Keep My commandments. And the first of all is: Love God. This is the first and greatest commandment.

The commandments come to us from God. God gave them to Moses on Mount Sinai and said to him: Give these to My people. They were placed in the ark which was called the Ark of the Covenant. Covenant means agreement. It was just as if God said: “Agree to keep My Law and I will agree to keep you.” In the long years of the history of the Jewish people from the time of Moses to the days of Christ, they failed God many times. The story of their failure is in that part of the Bible called the Old Testament. It is the history of the people of God up to the time of the coming of our Lord. The great points of the Old Testament are summed up in man’s failure and God’s forgiveness. These two facts run through it like a cloud of darkness and a burst of sunlight.

GOD’S LAW FOR EVERYONE

The commandments were given to the Jewish people to be observed and preserved. Their vocation was to keep the light of God’s Law burning in the darkness of a pagan world. They were chosen by God to do this. Here is what happened. God first chose one nation to be the guardians of His Law. From that one nation His Divine Son was to be born of a virgin. This was promised by God in a prophecy uttered long before the first Christmas. When He came there is one thing that He made clear. The commandments were for all men. And what He made clear His Church has proclaimed through the centuries;God’s Law for everyone.

But suppose a man never heard of God’s Law, or of Moses, or our Saviour, or His infallible Church. Could he know the commandments? Yes, he could. Not as clearly as we know them but clearly enough to save his soul which is the main job in life for every man to do. The first thing he can know is that THERE IS A GOD. How? This is how. By using his head. By doing a little thinking. Any man who thinks enough to ask himself a few questions can reach the conclusion that THERE IS A GOD. What are these questions? They are briefly these-who am I, what am I, why am I? What is life given me for? Where am I going?All these questions bob up in everyone’s head at some time in the course of life and very often during life. What is it all about? This popular expression really knocks at the door of every human heart. And a man who tries sincerely to answer it will find God. He will not find everything about God that God has told about Himself in Revelation but he will find God the Beginner of all things. For the man using his head will say: “I had a beginning. The man before me had a beginning, too. That means there must have been a first man. How did he begin? He had no parents for he was the first man. Everything I see about me had to have a beginning.”

If there are millions and millions of blades of grass there must have been a first blade. If there are millions and millions of towering trees there must have been a first tree. There must have been a first of everything. As that is so then there must be Someone, all-powerful, all-complete, self-existing, independent, from whom all things come. That is common sense. That Someone is God. He not only is. He must be.

Conan Doyle puts it this way: “Show me a picture without an artist, show me a statue without a sculptor, show me music without a musician, then you may begin to talk to me about a universe without a universe Maker, call Him by what name you will.” And Chesterton expressed the same truth in saying: “I felt it in my bones, first, that this world does not explain itself. It may be a miracle with a supernatural explanation. It may be a conjuring trick with a natural explanation. But the explanation of the conjuring trick, if it is to satisfy me, will have to be better than the natural explanation I have heard. The thing is magic true or false. Second-I came to feel that magic must have a meaning and meaning must have Someone to mean it. There was something personal in the world as in a work of art. Whatever it meant it meant violently. Third-I thought the purpose beautiful in its old design in spite of its defects. All this I felt and the age gave me no encouragement to feel it, and all this time I had not given thought to Christian teaching.”

II

GOD SPOKE TO MOSES

“THERE is a God” is a conclusion of common sense. But God in His mercy did not leave it to common sense. He de—clared Himself. He revealed Himself. In all reverence it may be truly said He broadcast Himself. After creating the universe, He created man. And after creating man, He spoke to man: And they heard the voice of the Lord God as they walked in Paradise in the afternoon air (Genesis c. 3). Not only did He speak to Adam and Eve but He spoke to other men who were in the world of the first centuries until the time of Moses. Shepherding the flock of Jethro, his father-inlaw, Moses brought the sheep into the desert and came to the mountain of God. It was called Mount Horeb. This is what happened there: “And the Lord appeared to him in a flame of fire out of the midst of a bush. And he saw that the bush was on fire and was not burnt. And Moses said: “I will go and see this great sight, why the bush is not burnt.” And when the Lord saw that he went forward to see, He called to him out of the midst of the bush, and said: Moses, Moses. And he answered: “Here I am.” And He said: Come not nigh hither, put off the shoes from thy feet, for the place whereon thou standest is holy ground. And He said: I am the God of thy father, the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, the God of Jacob.Moses hid his face for he dared not look at God” (Exodus, Chap. 3).

Then the day came when God spoke to Moses and made known His Law by th e Ten Commandments. “In the third month of the departure of Israel out of the land of Egypt, on this day they came into the wilderness of Sinai. . . . And Moses went up to God. . . . And the Lord said to him: Lo now will I come to thee in the darkness of a cloud that the people may hear Me speaking to thee and may believe thee forever. . . . Sanctify them today and tomorrow and let them wash their garments. And let them be ready against the third day; for on the third day the Lord will come down in the sight of all the people upon Mount Sinai. .

And now the third day was come and the morning appeared; and behold thunders began to be heard and lightning to flash, and a very thick cloud to cover the mount, and the noise of the trumpet sounded exceeding loud, and the people that were in the camp feared. . . . And all Mount Sinai was filled with smoke because the Lord was come down upon it in fire, and the smoke arose from it as from a furnace; and all the Mount was terrible. . . . And the Lord spoke these words: I am the Lord thy God, who brought thee out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of bondage. Thou shalt not have strange gods before Me” (Exodus, Chaps. 19, 20). So then in order the Ten Commandments were given. And not only the commandments but other laws of life and conduct were prescribed by God and given to Moses for his people. Time passed and a day came when God gave the commandments written in stone. “And the Lord when He had ended these words on Mount Sinai gave to Moses two stone tables of testimony written with the finger of God. . . . And Moses returned from the Mount carrying the two tables of the testimony in his hand, written on both sides. And made by the work of God; the writing also of God was graven in the tables” (Exodus, Chaps. 31, 32). Then what happened? “The people seeing that Moses delayed to come down from the Mount, gathering together against Aaron said: Arise, make us gods that may go before us, for as to this Moses the man that brought us out of the land of Egypt, we know not what has befallen him. . . . And Aaron said to them: Take the golden earrings from the ears of your wives, and your sons and daughters and bring them to me” (Exodus, Chap. 32). “When Moses came in sight of the camp he saw the golden calf and the Israelites adoring it. In anger he threw the tables out of his hand and broke them at the foot of the mountain. He took the golden calf and burnt it and beat it to powder. He put the powder in water and gave to the children of Israel to drink” (Exodus, Chap. 32). In time the people repented of their idolatry and God forgave them. Once again the commandments were given. And the Lord said to Moses write thee these words by which I have made a covenant both with thee and with Israel. And he was there with the Lord forty days and forty nights; he neither ate bread nor drank water; and he wrote upon the tables the ten words of the covenant. And when Moses came down from the Mount all aglow from his conversation with the Lord. . . . And he said to the people: These are the things the Lord commanded to be done” (Exodus, Chaps. 34, 35).

This is the story of the commandments. The first is: I am the Lord thy God who brought thee out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of bondage. Thou shalt not have strange gods before Me. Thou shalt not adore them nor serve them.

III

GOD ONLY IS ADORED

W HAT does the First Commandment mean? It means that we must show our love for God by worship. Worship means honoring God in the highest possible way. We give honor to men and women whom we consider worthy of honor. As Americans for example we consider George Washington, the Father of our country, worthy of the highest honor. So we name our national capital, Washington. We raise statues to him everywhere. We observe his birthday as a national holiday. We treasure all his writings and his speeches. Yet we do not worship him. For he is a man and no one but God deserves worship in the real meaning of the word. As Catholics we honor the saints and Mary the Queen of saints. But we do not worship them. We give to Mary a very special honor, higher than any given to any saint or all the saints. For she is God’s Mother. As He honored her in the highest way, we do the same. She is the masterpiece of the Great Artist. She is unique. She is immaculate from the first moment of her conception. She is then the most perfectof God’s creatures. She holds a place apart in the honor roll of God and men. But we do not worship Mary. Nor do we worship the saints.

GOD THE SUPREME BEING

There is only One worthy of worship in the strict sense. That One is God. For when we worship we acknowledge God as The Supreme Being. This worship is adoration. Only God is adored. That is what the First Commandment means. All we are and all we have are His. For He is Creator. He gave life and being to every tiny blade of grass and every living thing and person.

Once there was no life but God’s Life. Infinitely and eternally happy, God alone was in the splendor of heaven. “In the beginning was the Word and the Word was with God and the Word was God. The same was in the beginning with God. All things were made by Him and without Him was made nothing that was made. In Him was life and the life was the light of men. And the light shone in darkness and the darkness did not comprehend it.” This is the way St. John tells us that God is the Supreme Being, the Beginning of beginnings, the First and the Last, the Alpha and Omega. So we worship God, we adore God and Him alone. This is the “why” of the First Commandment.

We express our honor to God by worship. As soon as we use that word we think about prayers and devotions and other acts of piety. Or maybe we think of a solemn procession at Forty Hours” Devotion, or the sacred functions of a Eucharistic Congress. All this truly is worship or the expression of our honor to God. But all this means action. And before we have action we must have thought. We must think before we do, if we are to do right. God expects this of us, for He expects us to know what we are doing, and why we are doing it. So before I express my worship and so honor God, I must believe in Him. That is Faith. And without Faith no one can please God, according to St. Paul.

FAITH

Faith means accepting the word of another. If I am sick and consult a doctor and he tells me, after an examination, to follow a definite plan of living, I do so if I have any sense. And why do I? Because I take his word as someone who knows the laws of health. He may explain a great deal to me or he may say nothing. The fact is when I consult him I really say by my action:

“I believe in you. In your knowledge and abi lity. I will do as you say for you know and I do not know.” We are all taking each other’s words constantly. Human life functions on human faith. If we stopped to prove for ourselves everything in human life, we would stop human life. Every time I pay a bill or send a bill I make an act of human faith. Every time I get into a train or a bus or an auto I make an act of human faith in the men who built these machines or the men who run them. It is safe to say that all my actions from morning until evening with few exceptions are acts of human faith. I am taking the word of someone all the time.

IV

FAITH THAT IS DIVINE

F AITH that is divine or supernatural then is taking the Word of God. And when I take the Word and live up to it I worship God as He commands me to worship Him. St. Paul calls Faith-the evidence of things unseen. For as soon as I think of God I know I enter an unseen world. And He, knowing that, came out of the world and gave His message, which we call Revelation. We know He did this right at the beginning of life when there were only two people in the world. We know He did this to the prophets and patriarchs of the Old Law. He talked to men. He gave them His Law and His Truth. Until a day came when “The Word was made flesh and dwelt among us.” God became man to show man His Real Word. And He who was, and is The Word of God, became the Son of Mary to reveal All Truth. God did not want man to honor Him with any haphazard kind of worship. He came to tell man what to do. He gave His Word and told man to take it. In scene after scene of His human life we find our Lord stressing the meaning of Faith and the need of Faith.

First things first. Faith is THE FIRST THING. I believe what God has revealed because He is God revealing. I take His Word on His authority. I take it all and not part of it. I take it in its mysteries as well as in its clearest statements. Our Lord said: “If you love Me, keep My commandments.” That is a clear statement. Our Lord also said: “The Father and I are One.” That is a mystery. My Faith tells me both are true because God spoke them. The fact that He spoke them is all I have to know. It is enough, it is everything.

This is not easy because it is not natural. It is easy and natural to say: “I believe everything I understand.” It is supernatural to say: “I believe everything God has said including things I do not understand.” I understand that He has said them. That is enough. Take a few instances from our Lord’s life and watch Him teach the lesson of Faith. The Roman centurioncame to Him and begged Him to cure his servant. Our Lord said: “I will come down and cure him.” The soldier protested. There was no need of that. He was not worthy for Christ to come under his roof. “Say but the word and the man will be cured.” That was FAITH. The man saw the unseen power that was Christ’s, not with his eyes but with his mind and heart. That power could break through space and time. The servant was cured. And Christ said: “Amen I say to you I have not seen such great faith in Israel.” This centurion believed and so did his household. After that he honored God by his worship. But the first thing was faith. If he had not believed he could not have worshiped.

FAITH IS A GIFT

When God asks for our Faith He says to us: “Will you take My Word no matter how strange it may sound? Will you stand by that Word even though common sense and the whole world of sense appear to contradict it? When our Lord first promised the Blessed Sacrament He gave the people and His apostles a great test of Faith. He had given them abundance of bread to eat one day, taking a few loaves and multiplying them for several thousand people. They thought it wonderful. They did not know how it was done. But they saw with their eyes that it was done. So they said: “We will make Him our king.” He refused their earthly kingship. But the next day He said to them: “I am the Living Bread that has come down from heaven. Unless you eat this Bread you will not have life in you. This Bread is My Body and Blood.” What a statement! They answered: “This is a hard saying and who can believe it?” His reply was to repeat with emphasis the truth that He would give Himself to be the food of every soul. Many walked no more with Him. For Faith is free. God does not compel it. He gives it and we take it or leave it. God does not argue with us. Why should He? He is God. He calls for the homage of our Faith. Simon Peter gave the answer of Faith when on this occasion He said speaking for his fellow apostles: “You ask us if we, too, will go away as so many are doing. To whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life. And we have believed and we have known that You are the Christ, the Son of God.” That is Faith. That is fulfilling the First Commandment. That is worshiping God.

Faith is a precious gift and we should thank God for it every day of our lives. It can become weak. It can go stale. It can be lost. Judas once had it. Nearly all Europe once had it. So it can be lost. If we think of it as a bright flame we know that it is for us to keep it bright and glowing. We do this by prayer and the sacraments. Neglect of prayer and sacramental life means dimming that sacred flame. It may mean putting it out. That is the tragedy of lost Faith. Because I am free, I may put out that flame. But I cannot relight it. Only God can do that. There is not any power of mind and brain that can enable a man to know God by Faith. Nor can any man by his own effort find Faith once he has lost it.

V

REAL FAITH LEADS TO HOPE

I F Faith is real it leads to Hope. God has not only told us things that we can know by Faith. He has promised us things. Things in this life and the Big Thing which is Eternal Life. We worship Him by Hope when we trust these promises. Believing and trusting lead us to action. Action is Love. By loving God we mean acting out our lives in doing His Will, loving Him before everything else, loving Him above everyone else, for His own sweet sake. This is Charity. “So we have these three, Faith, Hope, Charity, but the greatest of these is Charity.” This is what St. Paul called Religion. It means all the powers of body and soul worshiping God as The Supreme Being. It means not only saying things but doing things. “Why call you Me, Lord, and do not the things that I say?” Religion means life. Not only life inside a church but outside a church. Not only on Sunday but on every day. It means God in everything and everything for God.

As God is entitled to our worship, and He alone, it is easy to see that we sin if we give honor to false gods. False gods are not only the gods of paganism, gold or wood or stone carved into images. Money is a false god if it is looked upon as the important thing of life. Anything is a false god that usurps God’s place. Money has been the false god of the ages. You can find its worshipers at all times and in all places. And today Science is taking a place alongside Money as a modern false god. The true scientist does not place science above God. For he knows that science like everything else comes from God. But a great many who write or talk in the name of science give the impression that science is the god of the modern world. Nationalism is a false god for it makes the nation or the State supreme and the individual nothing but a cog in the State machine. Racism is a false god for it idolizes the race and forgets that all races stem from two individuals who were created by God. Science, Nationalism and Racism are the big false gods of the modern world.

It is a striking fact that if men will not obey the First Commandment and honor God as He should be honored, they will worship a false god of one kind or another. Modern man laughs at the idolatry of the ignorant pagan and forgets that when he places science or State or race before God, he, too, is an idolater.

SINS AGAINST FAITH

As Faith, Hope, Charity and Religion are virtues in the soul by which we give God the honor due Him, it is plain that if we fail in these virtues we sin against the First Commandment. Remember we fulfill the First Commandment when we worship God by believing what He has revealed on the authority of His Word. That is Faith. We worship Him by Hope when, relying on His goodness and His promises, we confidently expect to attain Eternal Life and the means necessary to attain it. We worship Him by Charity when we love Him above all things for His own sake and observe His Law. We worship Him by the virtue of Religion when we honor and adore Him as The Supreme Being.

What is a sin against Faith? Like every sin it may be in thought, word or deed. If a thought comes to my mind that the Church is not infallible or the Pope is not infallible or any other teaching that I hold as a Catholic may be wrong, and I dwell on it, and do not reason and pray, until finally I say in my mind:

“I do not believe this or that any more,” I commit a sin of thought against Faith. Of course this does not mean I shall never have difficulties about Faith, that I shall never be tempted against Faith. “A thousand difficulties do not make one doubt,” said Cardinal Newman. Just as a thousand temptations do not make one sin. The first rule in every temptation is: PRAY. “Lord I believe, help Thou my unbelief.” It is consoling to remember that the greatest saints have suffered temptations against Faith. They conquered them by prayer. God gives everyone the grace to do the same.

It is plain, too, that I sin against Faith if I deliberately declare I am not a Catholic or as a Catholic openly repudiate any teaching of the Church. It is one thing to conceal the fact that I am a Catholic when I may or may not declare myself. I say nothing about it. For I am not obliged to state my Catholic belief on all occasions. But it is a much different thing to openly deny the fact when I am challenged. That is a sin against Faith. “Have a reason for the Faith that is in you,” were St. Paul’s words to the Catholics of his day. The more we know our Faith, the more we grow to love it and gladly profess it, even though we suffer in doing it. St. Thomas More, Lord Chancellor of England under Henry VIII, keenest of legal minds in the Europe of his day, knew his Faith and loved it. He died for one principle of that Faith. He died for the principle that the Pope is supreme in matters of Faith and morals. Was that easy? Not at all. For it was a principle very much clouded at the time. Today every Catholic in the world knows clearly that the Pope’s supremacy is the real test of Catholic belief. Not so in the sixteenth century. For more than a hundred years all Christendom had been debating it, the England of More’s day was at odds over it. “To his own family as a whole probably, to his wife certainly, to nearly all his friends and to the mass of Englishmen of his time, his position was not heroic but absurd. He was utterly alone. He had no support from without.” This is Belloc’s picture of the man who saw his Faith so clearly and loved it so intensely that he gave his life rather than deny what he believed. That is the Faith of a hero. So the Church proclaims him saint and martyr.

It is a sin against Faith to declare that all religions are the same or that one is as good as another. So for a Catholic to join in services of any other religion is to proclaim by his action this falsehood. When a Catholic declares in the words of the creed- I believe in the one, holy, apostolic Church-he means any and every other religion is false. One is true. For it comes from God. All others are false for they come from men. History proves that. The gospels prove that. Common sense proves that.

To join any sec ret society forbidden by the Church is a sin against Faith. To say: “I may become a member of the Masonic Order for business or social reasons, and still be a Catholic” is to live a lie. For Freemasonry is a religion and a false religion. To join the Communist Party because it may be in a position to secure a man some help is to deny the Faith. For the Communist Party is at war with the Catholic Church and every Church, is an enemy of God and the very idea of God, working to blot out the teachings of God from every human heart.

SINS AGAINST HOPE

As by Faith I believe God’s Word, so by Hope I trust in His promises. I sin against the virtue of Hope in two ways, by presumption and despair. If I bank on God’s promises and do nothing for myself I am presuming. God helps those who help themselves. God cannot do otherwise for He has created us free. To be free means to have power to do or not to do, to do this in preference to that. So if instead of fighting passion and sin and the occasions of sin, I do nothing but say: “God will be merciful,” I sin by presumption. Good will is what God looks for. “If you have a wishbone where your backbone should be, wish for peace. If you have a backbone where your backbone should be, then fight for peace,” so read a recruiting poster in Canada during the last World War. In the battle for heaven and the war against sin wish is not a weapon. But willis. Centuries ago St. Augustine remarked: “God who created us without our consent will not save us without our consent.”

SIN OF DESPAIR

Despair is the opposite of presumption. It is complete lack of trust in God’s mercy. “The mercy of God is above all His works,” so sang David the poet-king. He knew what he was saying for he had sinned and sinned terribly and God had forgiven him. The man who despairs, forgets that wonderful line. He forgets all of God’s mercies coloring the pages of the Old Testament, forgiving constantly His “stiff-necked people” as Moses and God Himself called them. He forgets the teachings of the gentle Christ gleaming out of the pages of the New Testament, the Gospels that tell His Life. He forgets that no matter how awful his sin, how low his fall, the Hand of God is strong enough to lift him up, the Sacred Heart ever longing to forgive. He forgets that our Saviour said: “I have come to call not the just but sinners.” He forgets the story of Magdalene and Peter and the robber who with a simple heart-throb beating in contrition-~ linked with the prayer- Remember me-really “stole Paradise.” He follows Judas who instead of declaring his contrition to God, proclaimed his remorse to men. What God did for Peter He would have done for Judas. But Judas would not have God. He sold Him for silver. He could have bought Him back but only for gold, the gold of contrition. Remorse means only sentiment, natural emotion and is the pathway to despair. Contrition is supernatural will-power and is the road to Heaven.

VI

“BUT THE GREATEST OF THESE IS CHARITY”

B ESIDES Faith and Hope, we worship God by Charity. One day in the busy days of our Lord’s life on earth a doctor of the law in an attempt to pose a difficult question said to Him:

“Good Master, which is the great commandment of the Law?” Jesus said to him: “Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with thy whole heart and with thy whole mind and with thy whole soul. This is the greatest and the first commandment. And the second is like to this: Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself.” This is Charity. And these two commandments are the greatest because they practically contain all the others. Charity then is love of God above all things for His own sake. It is supernatural because it is above (super) any natural power of mind or heart or soul.

It is based on motives of Faith. I cannot have Charity unless I believe in God and believe what God has said. And it cannot be in my soul without grace. When a great many people think about Charity they imagine themselves feeling sympathy for someone and helping someone in distress. Ordinarily they think of the Good Samaritan. But they do not think enough about him. For they picture him as a man that helped his neighbor who was in distress while two others who should have known better passed him by. They forget that the Good Samaritan helped his neighbor not merely because suffering appealed to his human sympathy but mainly because the man who had been beaten up by bandits was the image of God, the child of God. Human sympathy is good. Charity is better. For Charity is human sympathy lifted up to a higher plane. Charity begins with God. God is infinitely good and perfect and worthy of all love. God is good to us and has proved and is always proving His love for us. God wishes and commands us to love Him. Everything we have, we have from God. Everything we are, is because of God. Are not these reasons for beginning with God? The child learning the catechism is puzzled when told that God should be loved for His own sake. But the child is not puzzled if he is told God is to be loved for His own sake because He is so good. So good that everything anyone has, is given him by God.

THE MEANING OF SANCTITY

The more I know about God the more I will love Him. We marvel at the language of the saints when they speak about

God. Well we must remember they have learned much from prayer, reading and meditation. They are specialists in the love of God. We are amateurs. That is the difference. The saints grew in divine grace until they possessed it in the highest degree. What does that mean? It means they were willing to lose the dearest things in life and even life itself rather than commit a mortal sin. That was their first step in sanctity. Then they grew stronger in God’s love until they had a fixed purpose to surrender all that was precious in life rather than be guilty of a venial sin. Their ambition, however, to love God was not satisfied by this hatred and horror of mortal and venial sin. Their love for God growing under the inspiration of grace led them to desire to work and suffer for God not because they feared the consequences of sin or yearned for the rewards of heaven but simply and solely because they said to themselves: “We want to be like the dear Saviour who labored and suffered so much for us.” St. Ignatius in calling his companions to the battle for sanctity said: “Worldlings love and seek after honors, reputation, fame. So you who follow Christ must seek the opposites. You must yearn to labor as He labored, to suffer as He suffered, to become fools for Christ in the judgment of the world that pronounced Him a fool. Your life ambition must be to imitate and resemble in some way the Lord Jesus Christ and to imitate and follow Him, seeing He is the true Way that leads men to life.” That is what sanctity means. That is loving God above all things. That is the First Commandment fulfilled to perfection.

Charity then means first love of God and then love of neigh bor. Love of neighbor proves love for God. “How can a man say he loves God whom he has not seen, whenhe does not love his neighbor whom he sees?” This is the challenge of St. James. When I speak of loving a person I mean that I am ready to do good to that person. For real love means action and service.

How clear this is from the constant teaching of our Lord. Summing up all that teaching when the shadow of death was upon Him, He said: “As the Father hath loved Me I also have loved you. Abide in My love. If you keep My Commandments you will abide in My love; as I also have kept My Father’s commandments and abide in His love. This is My commandment that you love one another as I have loved you. Greater love than this no man hath, that a man lay down his life for his friends. You are My friends if you do the things that I command you.”

CHARITY IN ACTION

It was the charity of the first Christians more than anything else that impressed the pagan world. For the pagan world knew hatred. It loved little. But the small group that was the early Church lived charity. Its life was its strongest message. The pagan world hated the alien and the stranger. The Christian community made no distinction between Jew, Greek, Roman or barbarian. That is the meaning of the First Commandment. All men are God’s children, all are made in His image, all are redeemed by the Precious Blood of Christ. So we are commanded to love our neighbor even as ourselves. It is what is called The Golden Rule. “As you would that men should do to you, do you also to them in like manner.” We do this in obedience to God’s command, to please God and because God loves all men. Loving people who are good to us is not charity. “If you love them that love you what thanks are to you? For sinners also love those that love them.” The test of charity is in loving people who do not appeal to us. It is easy to serve agreeable characters. It is charity to serve disagreeable characters. Step into any home for the aged conducted by the Little Sisters of the Poor. There you will find what love of neighbor means better than anything written in books or preached from pulpits. For there you will see in consecrated lives the law of charity in action. As we are commanded to love all men so is there order in the command. It may be expressed thus:

Parents, family, friends, others. And we must not forget our country. That is patriotism. It is taught by Christ who loved His nation and His people. It does not mean nationalism. For nationalism means a disordered love of country. It means loving my own nation and hating others. That is neither patriotism nor charity. When we do good to others, that is love them in God’s Name we serve God and show our love for God. In fact Christ takes the place of the person we serve. “Lord when did we see Thee hungry and feed Thee; thirsty and gave Thee to drink? And when did we see Thee a stranger and took Thee in? Or naked and covered Thee? Or when did we see Thee sick or in prison and came to Thee? And the King answering shall say to them: “Amen I say to you, as long as you did it to one of these My least brethren you did it to Me.”

We have the great charter of charity in the corporal and spiritual works of mercy. The corporal works of mercy are: To feed the hungry, give drink to the thirsty, clothe the naked, harbor the stranger, visit the sick and the prisoner and bury the dead. The spiritual works of mercy are: To instruct the ignorant, counsel the doubting, admonish sinners, bear wrongs patiently, forgive injuries, comfort the sorrowful and pray for the living and the dead. The Charter of Charity is the code of Christ’s kingdom. If we want to know whether or not we are followers of Christ the King we have only to look at the code of the kingdom.

“What the soul is to the body, what the root is to the tree, What the sun to all creation, to the soul is charity. First and greatest of commandments, piety’s beginning, end.

All the Law and all the prophets on the Law of Love depend.”

SINS AGAINST CHARITY

What is a sin against charity? If we reflect a moment we shall see that every sin is a sin against charity. This is why. Every sin either weakens or destroys the bond of love between God and the individual. If it is a serious sin it destroys God’s grace in the soul. If it is a venial sin it weakens the love that I have for God. But when I speak of sins against charity I particularly mean those sins that stand out as special outrages against the Lord of Love. Hatred is the opposite of love. And the spirit of hate is the contradiction of the spirit of charity. The hatred of person against person, nation against nation destroys the spirit of charity “which is in our hearts by the Holy Ghost who is given to us.” Our Lord speaks especially against hatred even of enemies. And when hatred leads to refusal to forgive then we are warned that God our Judge will measure out to us as we measure out to others. People say at times that they cannot forgive. What they mean is they find it hard to forget. We are not commanded to forget injuries but to forgive them. An injury may linger long in the memory. There is no sin in that. But when it speaks out in revenge there is sin. “Vengeance is Mine,” God says. Moreover the person who harbors unforgiveness in his heart calls on God to condemn him every time he prays the Our Father. For he asks God notto forgive him. “Forgive us our sins as we forgive those who have sinned against us.” That is self- indictment if we are unforgiving.

It is a sin against Charity to ruin or besmirch the character or reputation of another. The rash judgment, the hasty illadvised and destructive criticism, the snap-opinion are all sins against Charity. “Show me the man that does not offend in speech and I call him a perfect man,” says St. James. It is so easy to see the mote in another’s eye and miss the beam in our own. It is so easy to dilate on the faults of others and so hard to acknowledge our own. No one has a right to broadcast sins or faults even though these are true. Among the sins called Capital are enumerated envy and jealousy. They are called capital because they are the heads under which a number of sins follow. And from them a number of sins stem. If I find myself extremely critical of another I may tell myself I am surely jealous or envious of another. Of what use to spread the news of the sin, fault, or weakness of another? It does not stop the sin or save the sinner. This was the great sin of the Pharisee. It hardened the Pharisee’s heart into the greater sin of hypocrisy. If the Pharisee had come into the life of our Lord to learn His teaching he would have learned and have been happy. But he came to criticize. He saw the good deed done on the Sabbath day and was envious and jealous of the Great Doer. Envy, jealousy, hypocrisy led him to the murder of the Son of God and the destruction of his own soul.

FULFILLING THE FIRST COMMANDMENT

We worship God then, by Faith, Hope and Charity and so fulfill the First Commandment. As St. Paul told the Catholics of Corinth: “If I speak with the tongues of men and angels and have not charity I am become as sounding brass or a tinkling cymbal. And if I should have Prophecy and know all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I should have all faith so that I could remove mountains, and have not charity I am nothing. And if I should distribute all my goods to feed the poor and if I should deliver my body to be burned, and have not charity it profits me nothing. Charity is patient, is kind; charity envies not, deals not perversely, is not puffed up. Is not ambitious, seeks not her own, is not provoked to anger, thinks no evil. Rejoices not in iniquity but rejoices with the truth. Bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. . . . And now there remain faith, hope and charity, these three, but the greatest of these is charity” (1 Cor., Chap. 13).

VII

RELIGION

RELIGION is a virtue whereby we offer to God outward and public acts of faith, hope and love. St. James expresses it by saying: “Be ye doers of the Word and not merely hearers deceiving your own selves.” For religion means life. Nor is it difficult to decide whether a man is religious or not. For God has placed the test. The test is to worship God as He wants to be worshiped. Religion means that. It means showing publicly what I believe. Public worship and prayer and sacrifice are the proofs I give that I believe in God, that I hope in God and rely on His promises, that I love God above everyone and everything. From the days of Moses to the days of Christ, God directed the public worship of His people. Christ came and established His Church and commissioned that Church to do as He did. That means to teach, to legislate, to sanctify. And so the Church tells me how God wants to be worshiped. The Church makes laws governing public prayer and worship. And the highest form of prayer is sacrifice for it is the prayer that acknowledges God’s supreme dominion over man. And we, unlike the people of the Old Law, have the true and perfect sacrifice. In the Third Commandment we learn about that.

Is public worship the complete fulfillment of the First Commandment? Yes and no. Yes, if my life squares with my public prayer. No, if I do not live as I pray. Common sense shows me that but much more our Lord’s teaching makes it clear. What was the big sin of the Pharisee? Just this, that he made public prayer substitute for real religion which means life. He cheated and lied, he was heartless and cruel to his fellow man and then he went up to the Temple where everyone could see him and took part in the public service of religion. It was not prayer as Christ told him. It was an insult to God. It was hypocrisy. There is no value in public prayer unless it is backed up by right living. Unless I put love into my home, honesty into my private life, no amount of public prayer will make me pleasing to God.

IDOLATRY AND SUPERSTITION

How do we sin against the virtue of Religion? By idolatry and superstition. Idolatry is paying divine honor to a creature. Time and time again in the history of the Jewish people we find the practice of idolatry. Paganism past and present has been darkened by idolatry. Read the modern mission magazines or the Old Testament and you will find the same story. Man will adore God or he will make gods of his own and adore them. Probably onehalf of the world’s population today is guilty of idolatry.

Idolatry then is all direct worship of false gods and all direct worship of idols. In the story of mankind idolatry probably began in this way. A great man or a group of great men did noble service for the tribe or clan. After death they were honored as heroes. This honor grew with the passing of time, with legend and myth gathering around their names until the honor given was divine. They became the gods of the tribe. Statues or images were made of departed heroes as worthy memorials. After a while divine power was attributed to these statues or images. We might call this the evolution of idolatry or how it came about.

STATUES AND IMAGES

This does not mean that God forbids all honor to statues and images. In the Old Law, God sanctioned the honor due to the figures of the angels that were placed in the Tabernacle over the Ark: “Thou shalt make also two cherubims of beaten gold on the two sides of the oracle” (Exodus, xxv. 18). God commanded Moses to set up a brazen serpent that whoever might look on it would be cured if bitten by the poisonous serpents; “And the Lord said to him: Make a brazen serpent, and set it up for a sign; whosoever being struck shall look on it, shall live. Moses therefore made a brazen serpent, and set it up for a sign, and when they that were bitten looked upon it, they were healed” (Numbers, xxi. 8). The brazen serpent was the sign chosen by God to show His mercy. Moreover it was a figure of the Saviour who was to be, as our Lord pointed out to the people of His day: “And as Moses lifted up the serpent in the desert so must the Son of Man be lifted up. That whosoever believeth in Him may not perish but may have life everlasting” (St. John iii. 14, 15). And so when we pass from the old religion which was but the preparation for the true religion established by our Saviour, we know that statues and pictures and images are in use among all members of Christ’s Church. They are not honored for themselves but for what they represent. The same is true of the veneration of relics. And God from time to time shows His approval by performing miracles to confirm the rightness of the practice. Is it not strange that people who wish to deprecate these practices treasure the pictures of their own loved ones? Is it not remarkable that men will carp at religious veneration of images, statues, pictures and relics and yet the world over will venerate the tomb of the Unknown Soldier? Any material thing may become sacred as the water or the dirt that our Lord used at times when He wrought a miracle. It is the same with the medal that has the blessing of the Church upon it. For the blessing of the Church is the blessing of God. A medal may be made of valuable or cheap metal. That makes no difference. By the blessing of the Church it is made sacred.

So we may call a medal a sacramental of the Church in as much as it is made sacred by the blessing of the Church. It is a reminder too of what we believe. A medal of the Immaculate Conception brings vividly to my mind that I believe our Lady was conceived immaculate. It is not merely the wearing of a medal that is an act of Religion. It is wearing a medal and living the message of the medal and so honoring God, His Blessed Mother or the saints that is an act of Religion. The same is true of pictures and statues. We honor them to show respect to the persons they represent. This truth is brought out very clearly in the act of consecration to our Lady of the Miraculous Medal. In this prayer we say: “May this medal be for each one of us a sure sign of thy affection for us and a constant reminder of our duties toward thee. Ever while wearing it may we be blessed by thy loving protection and preserved in the graceof thy Son.”

VIII

SUPERSTITION

T HE word superstition means placing above (super-above) or giving a thing a position it has no right to hold. To believe in charms, spells, omens, dreams, chain prayers-all this is superstition. Magic, witchcraft, spiritism, fortune telling, seriously indulged in, fall under the heading of superstition. Superstition has its roots in two human motives, the motive of fear and the motive of curiosity. It is wrong to imagine that only ignorant people are prone to superstition. It is right to conclude that irreligious people are superstitious. It is also true to say that people who at heart are religious but who have not a sufficient knowledge of their religion are inclined to superstition.

SPIRITISM

Spiritism which was rampant after the last war and which today claims many adherents is probably the most widespread of all superstitions. This practice is an endeavor to communicate with the souls of the dead. It takes many forms. Books without number have been written about it. Claims innumerable have been made in its favor. The outstanding fact however is this. Nothing has been proved to show that any one has talked with a soul that has left this life. Verbal or written messages have come through at different spiritualistic meetings, but the identity of the messenger has never been proved. So much for the claims of spiritism. But do not some wonderful things occur at a spiritualistic seance? They most assuredly do. It is both unfair and senseless to deny this. How then explain these happenings? There are three explanations. Trickery is one explanation. Many dishonest mediums have been exposed who for years admitted that they had duped the followers of the cult. Another explanation is that there are psychic forces or powers possessed by certain individuals that enable them to do things that the ordinary person cannot do. We do not know all there is to know about the workings of the human mind. We probably never shall. As we do not know all the powers hidden in the stone, or the soil or the blade of grass. We have only recently discovered the cosmic ray and we do not know what it is except that it is a great force hidden in nature. We know the great power of electricity and we do not know what it is. And so for the undoubted psychic powers that at times reveal themselves in a spiritualistic medium. The last explanation of clearly proven spiritualistic happenings is this. The devil is capable of possessing a medium and using the medium as an instrument for his own purpose. His own purpose is to dishonor God. A false religion does this. So it may be surely said that in some of the results of spiritualistic meetings the devil has had a hand.

Father Charles De Heredia, S.J., a student of spiritism for many years gives this rule for interpreting spiritualistic phenomena: “First look for fraud, then for the tricks of the magician and finally for Satan.” As a matter of fact Father De Heredia duplicated many a marvel of spiritism by his clever and magician methods. When we speak of the magician today we do not mean what the Bible means. For by a magician we mean an entertainer who amuses by sleight-of-hand or card tricks. But the magician in the biblical sense means one who performs marvels by the aid of Satan. As the book of Exodus states in the time of Moses:

“And the Lord said to Moses and Aaron: When Pharaoh shall say to you: Show signs, thou shalt say to Aaron: Take thy rod and cast it down before Pharaoh and it shall be turned into a serpent. . . . And Aaron took the rod before Pharaoh and it was turned into a serpent. And Pharaoh called the wise men and the magicians and they also by Egyptian enchantments and certain secrets did in like manner. And they every one cast down their rods and they were turned into serpents; but Aaron’s rod devoured their rods” (Exodus, vii. 18–12). What Aaron had done with the help of God the magicians of Egypt did with the help of Satan. That is magic.

WITCHCRAFT

Witchcraft means invoking the devil for evil purposes and generally to work injury. The witch of Endor whose story is told in the first book of Kings called up the spirit of Samuel to King Saul (1 Kings xxviii. 7). This is witchcraft as the Bible describesit. In Shakespeare’s “Macbeth” we have the three witches enter upon the scene to work upon the ambition of their victim and so lead him to his doom.

ASTROLOGY

Astrology is the art of foretelling life’s future by studying the stars. Belief in omens means judging of the future by things of mere chance, as the flight or the song of birds or the lines in the hand. Belief in dreams explains itself.

The catalogue of superstition is a long one. It is a tale of human fear, curiosity, hope. On its darkest pages I read how low man can fall as he wanders farther and farther away from God. Gripped by this sin he sinks not to the level of the brute but lower than the brute. Making unto himself false gods he is a pitiful figure. The truly Catholic mind abhors superstition in any and every form. For the truly Catholic mind is conscious of God’s presence in all the ways of life, knowing with David:

The Lord is my shepherd, and I shall want nothing. He hath set me in a place of pasture. He hath brought me up on the watersof refreshment; He hath converted my soul. He hath led me on the paths of justice for His own Name’s sake. For though I should walk in the midst of the shadow of death I will fear no evils for Thou art with me. . . . And Thy mercy will follow me all the days of my life.

To sum up. The honor we pay to God stands alone. It is adoration in the strict meaning of the word. For it is the acknowledgement of God as the Supreme Being. It is His right and He commands it. He commands it through the gentle whisper of the voice of conscience. He commands it amid the thunders of Sinai. He commands it by the clear teaching of His Beloved Son who placed His Church upon earth to repeat, teach and explain His Command. Faith, hope, charity, religion-this is man’s complete answer to that command. And in that answer faithfully given man finds his happiness in life upon earth and secures his eternal destiny in heaven “where eye hath not seen nor ear heard nor hath it entered into the heart of man to conceive the ineffable bliss that God hath prepared for those who love Him.”

Imprimi Potest:

JAMES P. SWEENEY, S.J.,

Nihil Obstat:

ARTHUR J. Scanlan, S.T.D., Censor Librorum. Provincia1, Maryland-New York.

Imprimatur:

@ FRANCIS J. Spellman, D.D., Archbishop of New York.

New York, December 14, 1939.

********

I Can Read Anything!

ALL RIGHT-THEN READ THIS

BY DANIEL A. LORD S.J

INDEX

WITH the deft skill of a magician covering a trick rabbit -or let’s say, with the nonchalance of a tramp placing his foot on a stray but conspicuous half-dollar-Dick slipped a magazine over the book on the sun-porch table.

Quite as nonchalantly, and with equal cleverness, Father Hall picked up the magazine, looked at it with elaborate inattention, and then laid it aside to pick up the book. Dick, meanwhile, was deep in a wicker chair, busily snapping, extinguishing and snapping again his cigarette lighter. Dick patently was not quite at ease.

Father Hall flipped the pages of the book, pausing momentarily on certain paragraphs that arrested his eye. Then, without looking up, he asked guilelessly:

“Did one of your friends forget and leave this book here?”

Dick slowly lighted a cigarette.

“I”m reading it myself,” he answered honestly.

“Oh!” was Father Hall’s only comment as he turned a few more pages. “The author certainly knew his asterisks, didn’t he? And I never saw more of those wicked little successions of periods ending paragraphs and interrupting chapters.”

SPICY STUFF

Dick was silent; so Father Hall flipped the pages.

He must have read very rapidly or else turned the pages with scarcely more than a glance at the paragraphs. Once or twice he seemed to read more slowly, and Dick looked up at him nervously and furtively.

Finally, after a painful silence that seemed to Dick endless, the priest closed the book and held it gingerly between thumb and forefinger.

Dick squirmed uneasily but said nothing. In silence Father Hall sought another chair, sat down, and gingerly laid the book on the floor beside him.

“That book, Dick,” he commented, quizzically, “is what I may be pardoned for calling “hot stuff.””

Dick glanced away resentfully.

“Well,” he said, “it isn’t exactly Sunday-school pap, but it’s modern and brilliant and smart, and everybody is talking about it and reading it.”

“I”m not reading it,” Father Hall said, mildly.

NOTHING HURTS ME

“Besides,” Dick went on, “I can read anything. Nothing hurts me.”

““Nothing hurts me,”” mused Father Hall, “as Socrates might have said when he drank the hemlock.” The door giving upon the sun porch opened, and Sue, Dick’s eighteen-year-old twin, stood smiling at them. But her smile faded at sight of the two solemn figures in the wicker chairs.

“What’s the matter?” she demanded. “Somebody dead, or have stocks fallen again?”

Dick smoked silently, but Father Hall held up the book.

“Dick and I are talking literature,” he said. “By the way, Sue, did you read this?”

Sue looked momentarily embarrassed, but then she lifted her head just a little defiantly.

“Yes, I read it. Everyone is reading it. One is just out of the conversation if one hasn’t read it.”

“I see,” said Father Hall.

“Of course you’re shocked, Father,” she hurried on. “But please don’t worry about Dick and me. I can read anything, and so can he. Nothing hurts me.”

Father Hall smiled.

“As Cleopatra might have remarked when she laid the asp against her breast.”

TABOO SUBJECT

He put the book on the floor beside him once more.

“Have you a few minutes?” he asked. “I d like it a lot if you and Dick would tell me about books. Probably I”m an old fogey. Probably I don’t get your attitude. I frankly don’t think that I can read everything. I know that all sorts of books would hurt me. But you’ve got a point of view, and I”d like to get it. May I?”

Nobody that knew Father Hall could possibly doubt either his broadminded tolerance of youth or his love for the Bradley twins. Least of all could the twins themselves doubt either fact. There was nothing they’d hesitate to talk over with Father Hall, who had known them from their cradles, and there was no opinion which they sincerely held that he had ever failed to understand.

But, for some reason, they had lately been shy about telling him of their reading. What one twin read the other read, too. Recently, they had been browsing far afield through a variety of new and popular books,. fiction, biography, some poetry, and a bit of history. And, though they knew the books they read were much talked of, by some tacit agreement they had kept several of these books out of their recent conversations with the friendly priest.

They knew him to be a voracious and discriminating reader. His taste was famously good, and his own novels had a literary flavour about them that made them a joy to every genuine lover of style.

Now they were unexpectedly called upon to explain their attitude toward reading and to defend their glib “I can read anything.” They hesitated, naturally. One thing gave them confidence-the assurance that any fair defence would meet with the priest’s honest approval and sympathetic understanding.

MODERN ALWAYS

Sue curled herself up in the corner of the lounge and pulled her slippered feet under her.

“Let the man do the talking,” she volunteered.

Dick glared, threw his cigarette away, lighted another in an evident attempt to gain time to gather his forces, and then leaned forward.

“I know you don’t get our point of view,” he began defensively.

“No?” asked Father Hall, just a little hurt. “I”ve got it on other things, and I”11 try this time, too.”

Sue flared up. “Of course you will. Dick, stop being personal and absurd, and state our case.”

“Sorry.” Dick was really penitent. “I know you always get us. I was just clumsy and heavy-handed. Well, let’s put it this way: We live In a very modern world, a world that is alive and rapidly changing. One has to know that world, and books are one important means of knowing it. Clever modern books are the record of our times, and we owe it to ourselves to keep abreast of that record.”

“Right,” seconded Sue. “And the record is certainly brilliant, clever, and powerfully amusing.”

“Dick said something like that before you came in,” Father Hall said, nodding. “I suppose it is a record even if sometimes it is a sad one and often a lying one. Go on.”

“Oh, yes, I know,” Dick agreed. “A lot of it is junk; some is off-colour and a great deal isn’t true. But I only read for the story, just for the pure enjoyment.”

Father Hall raised his eyebrows slightly and thoughtfully picked up the book.

“Mightn’t it be wiser to say just “enjoyment” without the adjective,” he asked, quietly.

Dick was momentarily embarrassed, but hurried on.

MEET THE WORLD

“All right,” he said. “We’ll drop the pure. Still I”m not sure that a lot of it is as impure as it is supposed to be. It’s life, and we have a right and duty to know life. We can’t very well all shut ourselves up in nice, safe monasteries utterly ignor- ant of the world in its pleasant and unpleasant aspects. I”ve no way of learning about . . . well let’s say, about pirates, except from books. Books introduce me to South Sea Islanders and French guardsmen and Italian brigands, to jockeys and bankers and pugilists and sailors and steelworkers and hoboes and-. .”

“Atheists, scoffers at religion and decency, prostitutes and adulterers,” Father Hall suggested helpfully. “Well, all right; them, too,” Dick shot back. “But they are part of life, aren’t they? Sue and I are just babies if we can’t face the fact that unpleasant people exist.”

“It’s one thing to have them exist and another to admit them into our minds, there to parade their indecencies, to defend with clever tongues their ribaldries, to mock our faith and flout our God,” said Father Hall.

“That isn’t what Dick means,” Sue protested. “He means that part of the charm and power of modern literature is that it faces life frankly and honestly. If there are unpleasant people, it isn’t afraid to introduce them. It isn’t ashamed of the facts. And why should anyone be afraid of frankness and honesty? Anything else is just mid-Victorian.”

POOR VICTORIANS

“That is a terrible thing to say,” smiled Father Hall. “It’s rather terrible to remember how little those Victorians knew about life. Dickens, for example, and his utter ignorance of the poor; Thackeray and Browning, Newman and Manning, Gladstone,George Eliot, Darwin, the actor Booth and Chinese Gordon, Don Bosco and the Cure d”Ars. Poor Victorians! How ignorant they were of life, and how pitifully timid!”

“Don’t overwhelm us,” Sue cried protest ingly.

But Dick was not to be stopped.

“Oh, you know what I mean. I love honesty. We of the younger generation all do. And it’s honest to face and see life even in literature.”

“Besides,” Sue added, “to the pure all things are pure.”

Father Hall sat up suddenly.

“Even when the author has a dirty mind and means to write a dirty story? My dear, please don’t say that. It’s like saying,

“To the well there is no such fact in the world as sickness”; or, “To thewise there is no such thing as stupidity and folly”; or, “To thesinless Christ there was no such fact as serious sin.”

“But, Father,” Dick went on, “books have no real effect on one’s life. We read a book and promptly forget it. It’s just the fun of the story that holds us or the enjoyment of someone’s cleverness. Books have no real connection with our lives. They slide over the surface of our minds and have noeffect on what we do or think.”

“Dick’s right,” Sue agreed. “I”m sure I never did a thing or thought a thing just because I happened to read it in a book.”

NOBODY BELIEVES ADVERTISEMENTS

“What a fearful blow that is to national advertisers,” Father Hall sighed. “Those poor chaps (I almost said saps) have been labouring under the foolish delusion that people will buy autos and cigarettes and face powders and soaps and socks because they’ve read the advertisements in the magazines. And it seems that what we read has no effect on us whatsoever”

“Not fair,” Dick protested. “I mean that just because Ihappened to read “Macbeth” I don’t promptly go out and murder somebody.”

“And I,” chimed in Sue, “don’t run away with somebody’s perfectly good husband just because I happened to read . . . er . . . er . . .”

Father Hall held up his hand.

“Never mind, Sue. You don’t need to tell me what you’ve been reading. But before we get away from that point, Dick, let me remind you that after “Macbeth” you wouldn’t commit murder because Shakespeare has brilliantly proved the terrible consequences of a crime like that. But suppose that he had set out to prove that murder was quite justified under certain conditions; and suppose that later in your life those conditions were realised in your case. What then?”

“And Sue, if the book you happen to be talking about is a clever defence of a young lady’s running away with somebody’s husband, I”m not at all sure that some of its readers won’t later think this quite the correct thing to do. Yes, and do it. I”ve known cases where they have. But I”m interrupting again. Tell me: Would you read a book that you knew was against your faith and feel surethat it would not hurt you?”

TWO SIDES

Dick and Sue interchanged a swift look. They clearly had read such books. Father Hall graciously and tactfully ignored their tell-tale glance.

“Well-” , Sue hesitated.

“I would,” Dick replied honestly. “I feel it is only fair to see both sides of a question. Besides, I know my faith well enough to defend it against any book.”

“Clever boy,” said Father Hall, though not a trace of irony was in his voice.

Sue leaped to her twin’s defence.

“I must admit that I”ve read books against the Church. But they seemed plain silly to me. Often I didn’t understand them at all

“Thank God for that,” interjected the priest.

“Sometimes I didn’t know the answers to the difficulties; but I just made an act of faith, and I know they didn’t hurt me.”

“I pray God,” said Father Hall, looking very serious, “that they didn’t. Sometimes one isn’t sure and can’t be sure until long years after.”

“Anyhow,” Dick shot out, still intent on his own defence, “the stuff is smart, fascinating, attractive, and-”

“Therefore just that much more perilous,” Father Hall added.

The twins stopped. Father Hall looked up from his pipe, which he had been tamping with a practised little finger.

“Is that all?” he asked.

“That about states the case as I see it,” Dick answered.

“Then, if I may summarise,” the priest said, “the case goes like this: One must either keep up with the latest and best books or just be out of touch with one’s times; these authors are brilliant and most entertaining and one reads them only for entertainment and because of their delightful style; a knowledge of life is something that every honest man and woman should have and must have, and that knowledge can be gained from books; these books are honest and face life squarely; books never have any real effect on life or conduct or belief, but pass over the surface of the mind; since to the pure all things are pure, a dirty book does not harm a pure-minded person; and since you are well-instructed Catholics, you are sure you have at your finger-tips the answers to attacks on your faith, though you feel it your duty to see both sides of the question even there. Have I put the case correctly?”

“Absolutely,,” the twins agreed, beaming.

“Then may I talk?”

“We want you to,” they chorused.

A NEW SLANT ON BOOKS

Father Hall settled back in his chair. He had refilled his pipe and paused long enough to blow a great cloud of smoke into the air.

“It was left for this generation,” he began, “to discover the astounding fact that books have no effect on life or conduct. Every other age in history was sure that books were one of the really powerful forces that drive ideas into the very soul of mankind, foment revolutions, fire national conflagrations, start new religions, corrupt human hearts, sweep kings off their thrones, and set men on the way to heaven or to hell.”

“Oh!” ejaculated Sue, wide-eyed.

“But nowadays the younger generation has discovered that all this is poppycock. Books have no effect on men or nations.”

“Frankly, this is just a little hard to square with history. We see Aristophanes laughing Grecian abuses out of existence. We see Cervantes, with “Don Quixote,” driving the lance into a decadent chivalry. “Uncle Tom’s Cabin” fanned the flames of national hatred so high that Lincoln could say to its author: “So this is the little lady who started this big war.” We see Dickens furiously writing, his novels in the confident expectation that they would wipe out the abuses of brutal boarding schools and of poorhouses andchancery courts. Charles Reade, with “Hard Cash,” dynamited the private insane asylums of England, and Sinclair’s “The Jungle” caused our Senate to order an investigation and clean-up of the packing industry.

“Men have somehow felt that books do matter. Without “Science and Health” how far would Christian Science have gone? Without “The Intimate Story of a Soul” we might never have heard of the Little Flower. I rather fancy that “The Following of Christ” has had some slight effect on mankind for good and few would say that the “Decameron hasn’t polluted at least one human mind. And don’t you think that history gives rather an important place to books like the Bible, the Koran, the Vedas?”

“But-” , Dick began to interrupt.

HISTORY PROVES

“Not quite through yet, Dick,” Father Hall objected. “If books have no effect on lives, then I”ve badly misread history. As I remember it, about every great movement since the invention of the printing press has been swept along on a tide of books.

“Luther preached. But he accomplished the largest part of his work when he learned to use the relatively new printing press to flood all Germany with his translations, his tracts, his pamphlets and books. Men read and were, by his powerful German, his coarse wit, his ruthless invective, swept away, out of the Church of their fathers into the Church he had founded.

“Voltaire inundated France with his writ ings. His books and pamphlets assailed the nobility and attacked the Church so ruthlessly and viciously that the Revolution was inevitable. Rousseau and the Encyclopaedists followed his lead and wrote, wrote, wrote. Men read, believed, grew furious with wrath, built the guillotine decapitated the king of France, and drove the Church into bloody exile.

“For thr ee centuries and more English Protestants believed the most absurd nonsense about the Church simply because history had been written that way. The books painted the Church as a horrible monster which had enslaved England, put chains on free English minds, and retarded the progress of the kingdom.

“All the while, ignored and unknown, were the facts that these books carefully forgot to mention: that England’s best—loved heroes were all Catholic-Arthur, Alfred, Edward the Confessor, Richard the Lionhearted, Henry V., Chaucer, the Cabots; that Catholics, under a Cardinal’s lead, had won the basic Magna Charta; that every great Anglican cathedral had been built by Catholic hands for Catholic worship; that English law and government were Catholic in origin and essentials; that English universities were the creation of the hated Popes, that Catholic mediaeval England was the true Merrie England.

LIES AND CAESAR

“Books had built up a perfect hedge of lies around the honest facts of history. Then Scott, with his books, began to show Catholic England and Scotland as the brave, gay, chivalrous lands they were, and the Oxford Movement began. And we know quite well what part was played in that movement by the books of those pioneering converts.”

“Interesting enoug h, Julius Caesar, long before printing or modern publicity departments were dreamed of, wrote his Commentaries to make himself popular in Rome. Sounds incredible, doesn’t it, after the way you wrestled with the Gallic War in high school? But it’s true, and he succeeded.

“Milton wrote pamphlets to fight and overthrow what he thought the tyranny of the existing government. The Italian revolution of the last century was heralded and accompanied by a perfect army of books. Why, without books-”

“Yes,” interrupted Dick, “but that is all rather ancient history. In modern times—”

NOWADAYS

“Human nature hasn’t changed essentially in the past twenty years, Dick. But let’s take a look at our times. “I dare say not a dozen people still living remember listening to the lectures of Darwin and Huxley. But their books have carried thousands of our contemporaries into their theories. Karl Marx seems to have been rather a retiring chap; it was his book, “Capital; read and re-read, that upset whole nations of Europe, established powerful political parties in every civilised nation, and erected on the ruins of the Czarist throne a nation of Soviets.

“George Bernard Shaw emphatically refuses to come to America and lecture. He doesn’t need to. His books (not his presented but his published plays and his prefaces) are working far more powerfully and extensively than he possibly could.

“Where does all this talk about a “new morality” originate; all this ferment over free love and divorce and sex freedom and companionate marriage? From the books of Ibsen, Havelock, Ellis, and Ellen Key, and latterly from those of Ben Lindsey, Bertrand Russell and, among the ordinary people, from the stories of the incredible Elinor Glyn. For one person who has ever heard these people lecture a thousand have read and been influenced by their books.”

“Who is ever going to estimate the harm done by a book like that of Maria Monk? Because of her lies, thousands of people shrink from the sight of a nun. How was the terrible anti-Catholic campaign carried on? Through books, pamphlets, magazines, reaching and affecting whole sections of the country.”

BOOKS AND BELIEF

“But, Father,” protested Dick, “anyone who would believe that sort of stuff is just too ignorant to be considered. We’re not in that class, surely.”

“Wait a minute,” Father Hall retorted, “Except for Maria Monk, Elinor Glyn, and the anti-Catholic bigotry stuff, practically all the rest is making its appeal to the cultured and educated. But let’s take your own class, the educated group to which you belong.

“You’re not too young to have heard of the systematic attack on religion called Modernism. Modernism set out to blast the whole ground from under faith, destroy the supernatural, and reduce to the level of folklore all religious belief; it meant to take God out of religion and to substitute on His altars humanity. In no time Modernism had wrecked whole sections of the Protestant Churches and turned them from faiths into social agencies.

“And books were the most powerful force of Modernism. Renan and Loisy and Harnack and Tyrrell wrote, were read, and people became Modernists without knowing it.”

“Fraser’s “The Golden Bough” and James” “The Will to Believe” tore down the faith of thousands. The published attacks on the Bible seared the faith of other thousands. Many of these attacks have died a speedy death as newly-discovered documents and monuments proved them stupid and worthless, but the original books go on with their devastating work.

“And the doubts and difficulties of the modernistic pioneers poured down to the ordinary people through the novels of people like Mrs. Humphrey Ward and Sinclair Lewis, through the pseudo-historical stuff of Dorm Byrne and Elmer Davis and the pernicious pages of the Sunday supplements.

“No one will ever know how many people gave up their faith in Christ after reading Renan or Strauss, or how many gave up orthodox Christianity after reading one of the imitators of Loisy, or decided the Bible was largely myth after a few hours with Harnack and his group. And believe me, these authors knew this would happen and meant it to happen.

BULLETS V. BOOKS

“Surely you’ve heard the word “propaganda.” Propaganda is just clever advertising, largely through literature. During the late war each nation employed large groups of men to write glorious things about the home country and terrible things about the enemy. And the people of each nation read and believed. Literature was as deadly a weapon as any long-range gun, and one of the big battles of the war was fought between the writers of the nations.

“So, to break the morale of the German troops, D”Annunzio adopted a much more subtle weapon than bombs or starvation. He flew over the enemy’s lines and dropped pamphlets among the soldiers, pamphlets that hit at their courage, stressed the power of the forces leagued against them, stirred them up against their leaders, and made them feel that their cause was hopeless and already lost. No wonder the German commanders feared him more than any Allied ace coming in the latest of battle “planes”.”

“Nations are so deeply experienced in the power of a single book that some of the militari stic nations immediately banned “All Quiet on the Western Front.” They know the effect that book might easily have on the soldiers under arms and the citizens who pay for those arms”

PERSONALLY

“But it seems to me,” Dick objected, “that most of the books you’ve talked about affect nations rather than individuals. And most of them concern faith, not morals. We are talking chiefly about indecent books, as we call them, and their effect upon individuals.”

“We’re talking about the general proposi tion you laid down, that books have no effect on life; and at least half these authors deal with morals, not faith. However, it’s much easier to handle your objection. After all, nations are made up of individuals. The nation has no beliefs and no movements except those that its citizens give it. So, wherever I have said nations, you can, if you wish, substitute individuals.”

“But let’s look at these books against morals. A brilliant editor in one of our mid -western cities fell away from the Church, married after his divorce, and died suddenly without priest or Sacraments. In a gathering shortly before his death he said: “Yes, I”ve been living rather wildly; and, do you know, my start on the down grade began when an older man lent me the unexpurgated edition of “The Arabian Nights”?”

“I”m going to talk a lot more about this subject later. But just let me ask you what effect you think the rotten Roman novels had on the men and women who read them? They laughed, they approved, and we have history to show what they didby way of imitation.”

“The Renaissance novels were simply an attempt to put back into popular circula tion the rediscovered vices of pagan days. They succeeded admirably. One group of French novels has become a very byword for schools of sin, and one writer’s name has been definitely and for all time fastened to the sin on which his book riveted attention.”

“Every nation has had its undercurrent of filthy literature that never reached the public market. But it did reach the public morals, to sadden humanity and spoil lives.

FROM IMMORAL HEROES

“And all this popular jargon, these catch-phrases of modern immorality, are taken right out of the heart of popular sellers. “Morality is just a matter of individual conscience,” says the modern young lady to me, and I know that she caught the phrase from the lips of a dozen heroes and heroines of books she’s been reading.

““A pure woman and a chaste woman are not necessarily the same”; “There is no such thing as pure an d impure; the only standard of goodness is happiness”; “A pure woman may be one who follows her inclinations and gives herself freely outside of marriage”; “Virtue is a sign of weakness, not of strength.” These are all catch-phrases that I”ve heard again and again in talking with people. Where did they get them? From books. Why, they’re the theses of a dozen popular novels this minute, and are taken for granted in another score.

“People learn new principles of immorality and new defences from the lips of their favourite heroes and heroines and from the pens of antimoral authors.”

“I don’t take my morals or my beliefs or anything else from the mouth of any character in a book,” protested Dick fiercely.

“And I certainly don’t think that I do,” Sue agreed.

“No?” said Father Hall. “Then I”m afraid you’re very different from the rest of us. I know very well that I do. About twothirds of my opinions and ideas I got straight out of books. And they weren’t always the right opinions to have.

DUELLING A LA DUMAS

“When I was a little chap, I happened to have the run of a neighbour’s library. He wasn’t a Catholic, but he was a real booklover, and his library was a youngster’s paradise. Early in my browsing I discovered Dumas. No one had told me that his books,except “The Count of Monte Cristo, were on the Index; so I read voraciously.”

“The Index!” snorted Dick. “Why in the world should Dumas be on the Index?”

“Precisely what I asked,” Father Hall agreed. “Well, I went to college and finally reached senior year, still feeling that way. Then in ethics class our professor announced the thesis: “Duelling is a form of murder and is forbidden by the natural law.” I flared into a fury. It was nothing of the sort; it was brave, fine, and often absolutely essential. One had a right to defend his honour. A man who did not was a coward. For two days the professor and I had it hot and heavy, and finally it dawned on me I hadn’t a leg to stand on. So I withdrew ignominiously but resentfully.

“Then I sat me down to think why duelling had always seemed so splendid a thing to me. In a flash I had it. I had fallen in love with D”Artagnan and the Three Musketeers. I had seen them, because of an inadvertent flick of an enemy’s cloak, draw their rapiers and have at him. I had watched them drive back the Cardinal’s men and spit them on swords. And what- ever my beloved heroes did was right and must be right. Unconsciously, I had drunk in a belief in duelling by watching a fictional character fight his duels.”

“Oh,” protested Sue, “but duelling is so out of fashion!”

“Quite right.”

Father Hall got up, walked across the room, ran his finger over the titles on the bookshelf, and turned with a book in his hand.

TWO CRIMES

““Justice,” by Galsworthy,” he read, and then looked up. “Either of you read it?”

“I did,” answered Sue.

“Like it?” asked Father Hall.

Sue hesitated a moment and then spoke the truth.

“I loved it. Of course, the title is ironical. He meant it to be called”Injustice.” Those two poor people caught in that ter—rible web . . . I never felt sorrier for any one in my life than for them.”

Father Hall replaced the book and walked back to his chair.

“It’s quite a while since I read it,” he said, “so I may be a little inaccurate. Correct me if I tell the story wrong. “A young woman is badly treated by a brute of a husband. A young chap falls in love with her, justified, of course, by the fact that her husband is such a scoundrel. They plan to run away from her home. Unfortunately the young man has no money. So he steals it from a trusting employer and runs away with the married woman. They are caught, and he is sent to jail. So this poor chap, for the unimportant crimes of adultery and theft- though perhaps I should say for the delightful virtues of free love and communal property-is cruelly, callously, villainously sent to gaol in a travesty of justice.”

“Oh,” said Sue, in a rather small voice, “I never thought of it that way.”

“Precisely,” Father Hall agreed. “It never occurred to you that the author had made you, through an appeal to your emotions, forgive and condone two terrible sins and condemn the State for punishing them. But, Sue, what you saw were an attractive hero and an abused heroine. Between them and their happiness lay the Sixth and the Seventh Commandments and the laws of a nation. But you loved the hero and the heroine, and in your eagerness for their happiness the abstract question of law and duty and principle seemed mighty unimportant. You thought only of the people and forgot all about the laws that safeguard personal property and the future of the human race.

“That is just where a skilfully-written novel or play is so powerful. It puts into the mouth of a charming person a philosophy of life. The philosophy may be bad; the morality may be awful. But they come warm and appealing from the lips of a man or a woman who wins our hearts. Then the characters begin to live by those principles, and in our sympathy for the persons we forget the morality involved. They could do anything and we would forgive them. Sin doesn’t seem sin when It is committed by charming people. We start by loving the sinners and end by denying that what they do is sin.

“That seems terribly exaggerated,” Dick said.

MURDER CONDONED

“Yes? Perhaps you remember a bestseller in which the subordinate hero deliberately puts his father to death to save him from further suffering. Incidentally, this chap has been living with a girl to whom he is not married, justifying their union on the grounds of their love. In another book of about the same period the hero stabs his sleeping mistress because he fears she may fall into a life of shame.”

“Now, both those characters were so at tractive and their arguments were so warm and appealing that scarcely a person turned from the books without wondering if the two cold-blooded murders were not quite justified. As for the fact that both of the men were living in frank sin, I never heard a reader comment on that.”

“That was precisely what the authors meant to be the effect on their readers, and it was.”

“I remember one of those books,” Sue agreed, “and I”11 admit that I wondered at the time about the justice of that murder.”

“Yes, it was cleverly and subtly done. But what about the books that are not meant to be subtle, but are direct and brutal attacks on faith and morality? Do you mean to tell me you don’t think they affect people?”

“Why-” , hesitated Dick.

DUMB OR HARDBOILED

“If they don’t,” Father Hall went on, “one of these things is true (you’ll have to forgive me if I”m brutal): Either you are cleverer and better informed than the author; you are too calloused to be affected (hardboiled, if you prefer); or you are too stupid and dull to know what the author is talking about or to take in his arguments.”

“That is cruel,” Sue pouted.

“But absolutely true. I”d hate to say I was so clever and well informed that I could answer all difficulties raised against my faith or moral code. Trained as I am through my priestly education. I know I couldn’t. Hardly a month passes without some new difficulty for which, at the time, I have no answer. Some day an answer is found and the difficulty disappears, as all of them do; but, at the time, I can meet the difficulty only with an act of faith.”

“But what happens to a person who has no special training? The writer who presents the difficulties puts them forward with a cocky assurance staggering to one who is not acquainted with the fate of all difficulties against faith. The reader answers the difficulties either with a blind act of faith or with the troubles of a disturbed mind. In either case he has faced a difficulty to which he sees no answer, and an unanswered difficulty can develop into a real peril to faith.”

I KNOW THE ANSWER

“Believe me, every priest meets in the course of a year a dozen young people who were sure they could answer all the difficulties they might meet, but who speedily “read themselves out of the Church.” The most brilliant young chap in the college I attended read himself out of his faith within one year after he finished school. The tragedy of it is that most of the things he thought to be difficulties have crumbled and been swept away by time. He is still a rudderless unbeliever.”

“You remember the sensation caused a few years ago by Will Durant’s “Story of Philosophy.” What the general public did not know was that Will Durant, thoroughgoing agnostic though he is, was a Catholic college graduate. Systematically, though for a long time unconsciously, he read away his faith. No doubt, he was quite sure at the beginning that he knew the answer to every difficulty that could arise. Wasn’t he a man with a Catholic college training? Yet, within a matter of months, he was tortured by doubts, then stripped of belief, and finally was left utterly without faith in anything supernatural.”

“But mustn’t we see the two sides to every question?” Dick demanded.

“The Catholic Church is extraordinarily fair to both sides of any question. When a student of Catholic philosophy or theology studies any controverted point, he sees all the important objections raised against it. He gives the objectors full right to state their difficulties and complete their case.”

“But I”ve noticed, Dick, that most of those who talk loudly about seeing the two sides of a question usually are willing to look at only one-the side against their faith. They begin quite sure that they will look up the Catholic side, but I seldom find them doing it. On the contrary, again and again they let the first difficulty floor them. They begin by saying they must hear two sides; they end by hearing only one.”

CLEVER ADVERSARIES

“Catholic books on any important subject will give you both sides of the question with admirable frankness. Antireligious books give you only the difficulties, and, knowingly or unknowingly, when they do try to state the Catholic position, they state it unfairly and falsely.

“Has it occurred to you that, when you read books of this sort, you pit your minds, as y et not fully matured or trained, against the trained, clever, brilliant minds of men skilled in their lines and adept in their methods?”

“And when they are utterly unscrupulous, as, let us say, Joseph McCabe is, and will twist any bit of history to make a case, and pile yarn on yarn to construct a proof, and use fable for fact and supposition for solid argument, what chance has the average reader against them? He is fighting men who don’t fight fairly, and we wisely decline to meet an unfair fighter.”

“Yet, I know one popular publishing firm that floods the country with booklets, and it no more hesitates about its methods than a common gangster. It is just a gang of literary pirates, scuttling the ship of faith, flying a Jolly Roger, willing to use any sort of weapon, false history, twisted fact, plain lies, to beat down faith and break down morality. What a fool any man is who puts his mind in the power of ruthless brigands like that, who hate the faith and Christian morality so intensely that they stop atnothing if only they can thrust a poisoned dagger home!”

THE FLAG OF SHAME

Father Hall had let his voice rise slightly, for his hatred of this lawless trifling with truth was deep and intense. Now he leaned back in his chair more calm.

“It is perfectly true,” he went on, “that people may become so hardened that books concerned with sex immorality leave them largely unaffected. Men may get inoculated with poison to such an extent that they can take fair quantities of it without dying. But their immunity is in itself a sign there is something wrong with them.

“So there are sin -soaked people in the world (they are a sad, sad group) on whom all the filthiest stories seem to have no effect. They have seen everything terrible and heard everything vile, and theyhave lost, in consequence, man’s precious gift of shame. Without a flicker of embarrassment they listen to the dirtiest story and repeat unblushingly one to match it. We know there are such people, but who of us wants to be classed with them?”

“There are certain things that should, in the course of nature, cause any normal person a blush or at least a feeling of shame. That is simply nature’s danger signal, its red flag of warning. There is nothing surely very fine about admitting that one has grown so hardened that all sense of shame and decent reticence has slipped away.”

“Please, Father,” protested Sue, “we’re not as callous as that. At least, I hope not.”

ASTONISHING IGNORANCE

“Then you are wrong in saying that nothing harms you, unless . . . well, unless I”m going to be forced to call you dumb. You’re not. Yet there are readers so thickheaded that they never really know what the author means. He may be hammering away at their faith. He may be presenting the vilest things before their so-called imaginations. They read blissfully on as unharmed as if they were turning the pages of a seed catalogue.”

“Of course, that sort of people are saved by an astonishing ignorance. They read terrible books and yawn unintelligently. They go through a devastating book against faith or morals, and the arguments fall back from their concrete, reinforced concrete, minds. Nothing bothers them any more than it would bother a baby or an idiot.”

“Ouch!” cried Dick. “Have a heart! We’re not quite in that class.”

“No,” Father Hall agreed, “I will compliment you by thinking that you’re not. But if you really understand some of the things that are appearing in popular books today, and still insist they don’t hurt you. . . .”

“Well, quite recently, a girl I know read one of the late popular novels. It’s a sad thing, the story of unnatural, sinful love between women.”

Father Hall intercepted another quick look between the twins. They had recognised the book even from his very sketchy description. Perhaps they had read it. He hoped not.

“This girl has always had one of the sweetest, freshest minds I have ever known -a mind that Our Lady must love. Throughout her life her greatest ideal has been an aunt a gracious, stately woman, fine in character and noble in conduct. The girl lived in the hope of being like this elder woman.

“Well, she read this book, learned for the first time of this unnatural love, and began a sad introspection. Suddenly, she seemed to see this lovely ideal she had built up around her aunt as a manifestation of something terribly wrong. Worried, she came to me with her trouble. That devilish book had been able to take a sweet, pure mind and fill it full of wretched questions about something that was the splendid ideal of her life.”

“You see, it’s just sheer nonsense to say, “To the pure all things are pure.” There are filthy things in the world and every honest man and woman knows they are filthy. All the arguing of seven shrewd sophists won’t make them clean.”

HOW TO TREAT THE ROTTER?

“Dick, what do you do when a fellow in your company tells a rotten story?”

“If I don’t know him very well, I walk away. If he’s somebody I know, I tell him to shut his face.” “Why don’t you blissfully fold your hands and say, “I don’t see anything wrong in that story; I”ve got a pure mind”?” “I see,” said Dick, subdued.

“And just because you happen to think that Sue has a sweet, clean mind, do you let that sort of filthy stuff be told in her presence? Logically, if “to the pure all things are pure,” it wouldn’t do her any harm. But you don’t act on that silly prin—ciple when some rotter starts to wag his dirty tongue.”

“Does it make you feel just a little hot under the collar when somebody makes slurring remarks about your faith?”

“Rather,” said Dick, warmly.

“Then, why is it that any sort of story or any sort of attack put between the covers of a two-fifty book is quite all right? Michael Arlen, of more or less unhappy memory (he had a brief vogue, thank heaven!), or the foulminded author of “The Arabian Nights” is privileged to write anything. Joseph Mccabe and Haldeman-Julius may sneer at and lie about your beautiful faith-provided they do it at a comfortable profit.”

“It isn’t logical. If a dirty story or an attack on your faith is something you resent in conversation, why do you think it quite all right to swallow it in a book?”

LIKE UNCLEAN THOUGHTS

“But let’s go a step farther. If an impure thought or a doubt against fa ith enters your mind, what have you been taught to do?”

“Say a little prayer and try to banish it,” Sue answered promptly.

“Then why does a Catholic feel free to admit such a thought just because it comes from the smudged and dirty or cynically ignorant pages of a book? Dirt is dirt whether it is written by Boccaccio or James Joyce or Cabell, and all the smug hypocrisy in the world will never make it anything but dirt. And a sneer at faith is just as much a sneer when it comes from a page as from a smelly soap-box orator.

“We turn from a dirty picture or tear it up. We refuse the doubt entrance to our souls. Yet we admit into our minds people who spatter our purity with filth and who spit upon our crucifix.”

“Nothing hurts you? Why, the sort of book we are talking about was meant to hurt you. Deliberately, it sets itself to foul your mind, to make you love sin, to kill your faith in God, to breed in your soul treachery to your faith. And the men who write this sort are clever as the devil and quite as filled with hatred against your soul. You play with their books and you play with the most virulent poison. Only the grace of God in miraculous quantities will keep them from slaying your soul as I have seen them slay the souls of scores.”

DISHONEST

“Then, Father, you don’t think these are justified by their frankness and honesty?” asked Dick.

“I”m not so decidedly sure of their honesty,” said Father Hall. “These sex-saturated books are certainly not honest, and are certainly badly out of line with the facts. They make sex the centre of all, source of all happiness, the dominating principle of all lives. They are as untruthful and misleading as is any form of exclusive concentration-concentration on sickness or money or pleasure or anything else.”

These sex-mad heroines and sex-dominated heroes are just abnormalities and are as far from wholesome human life as abnormalities always are.”

“But I don’t find anything very honest in books which deliberately ignore the great facts and experiences of life. A man who pretends that God isn’t necessary is just intellectually dishonest. He shuts his eyes to the facts and then says they aren’t there. A man who contradicts the whole experience of humankind regarding sin and its consequences, who argues himself out of conscience and morality and common decency, who laughs at good women as if they were contemptible, and lauds bad women as if they were splendid creatures, is not being honest. He’s as Intellectually crooked as the old sophists proving that two and two made five, and that no arrow shot from a bow could ever reach its target. It isn’t honest to put forth a philosophy that would turn men into beasts, as Bertrand Russell does, or to advocate immoral theories in a book and then live personally like a Puritan, as George Bernard Shaw does.”

SEEING DEATH

“And I”ve noticed these very honest authors shifting their positions a dozen times in a lifetime, and each time declaring they have the only and absolute truth. They haven’t honesty enough ever to mention the fact that they have gone back on themselves and changed their first principles. Each time they are infallible, but, dishonestly, they never admit that they know they were wrong.”

“But what about knowing life?” Dick urged.

“What sort of life, Dick?” Father Hall asked. “Fm not sure that in most cases it is life at all. I think it is death, the death of the soul by mortal sin. It is the death of purity and innocence, and it is the death of faith and loyalty to Christ. It is the slaying of souls, the killing or deadening of the very finest and best instincts of our nature. Knowing life, I”m afraid that it’s often the fetid breath of vampires upon our throats.”

“There are all sorts of things in life that we deliberately shun. We do not invite lepers into our parlours. We segregate contagious diseases. We know that some things must be known by doctors of which we are blissfully ignorant. We are content that the sins of mankind be poured into the ears of a priest. We do not envy him that side of the confessional.”

READ THE BEST

“So with literature. There are certain things that do not belong in decent litera ture. They are subjects for the specialist-the doctor, the priest, the sociologist. We are better off without knowing them, just as our life is richer if we are spared personal contact with gangsters and prostitutes. You’ll notice, by the way, that most of these characters you meet in the literature that “shows you life” are the failures, outcasts, the sad and horrible wrecks, either in body or soul, of the world. They are not those who make life richer, but those who rob life of its richness.”

They were silent for a moment Then Sue spoke up.

“It’s going to be hard not to keep up with the times.”

Father Hall knitted his brow.

“Why give it up? I don’t remember saying that that was necessary,” he said. “Did I advocate your being out of date or intellectually passé? I”ve always felt it my duty to be decently well read and well informed. I try to keep abreast of most modem thoughtand events. Yet I do it without touching anything that is smutty and few things that are against my faith.”

“There is so much worthwhile stuff published that I don’t have a chance to read the junk and the filth. I”m behind in my reading all the time, try as I may to keep abreast. Yet, I never knowingly admit a suggestive book to my library, and where I read things that are antiCatholic, I do it because I have a duty to know in order to refute.”

“You see, we all have only a limited amount of time that we c an give to reading. In consequence, we all have to pick and choose most carefully. So why should I read all the best sellers unless there is something of real value in them? Most popular books are forgotten twelve months after they are published. And most anti-Catholic books are out of date before they are half a year off the press.”

“I read, love reading, fill every leisure moment with it, and yet I can stay away very comfortably from the kind of thing we are discussing. I”ve read the outstanding new books of the past years as I keep adding to my reading knowledge of the classics. I haven’t time to bother with sex nonsense, with trash, or with books that soil my mind and slander my faith.”

Father Hall leaned down and picked up the offending book.

BONFIRE

“This book,” he said, “is the product of a filthy mind determined to spread its filth. I happen to know that the author lives as he writes-in frank immorality. He would love nothing better than to spoil your young, pure minds. He envies you the innocence he himself has lost. He hates the Church because it coolly, logically, courageously brands his sin with its real name and threatens him with the wrath of God and the ultimate rejection by all decent-minded men, So he comes to you with his false smile and his brilliant cleverness, bent on ruining you if he can. Please, for your own souls” sake, shut the doors of your mind in his face and send him back to his filth, where he belongs.”

Mrs. Bradley came out on the sun porch and found it empty. Then she looked out over the lawn and started.

There in the centre of the lawn, around a bare flower bed waiting for the soon-to-be spring planting, stood Father Hall and the twins.

“Great stars!” she said to herself. “Either I”m mad or they are. Fancy three almost grown-up people standing solemnly warming their hands at a tiny little bonfire like that.”

Nihil Obstat:

F. Moynihan

Censor Deputatus

Imprimatur

@ D. Mannix

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis

********

I Can Take It Or Leave It Alone

DANIEL A. LORD, S. J

INDEX

DRINK AND YOUNG PEOPLE

THE convention of Catholic young people was drawing to an end. It had been a splendid manifestation of the fine spirit, the real leadership, the Catholic-mindedness, and the outstanding abilities of our young people; and we were feeling very proud of them. In fact, they were feeling just a little proud of themselves.

Then from the floor somebody tossed a bomb.

No; not a bomb made of explosive chemicals that would have blown up and killed a few dozen of the delegates. That might even have seemed a relatively minor explosion-if you’ll pardon the irony. The bomb was phrased in words, and it was packed with unexpected dynamite. To the mere onlooker, the bystander, the bomb seemed innocent enough. All that the speaker from the floor proposed was this:

“I move that this convention go on record as favouring total abstinence for young people during their years in school.”

That was all; just as guileless as that.

Bang! Bang!

Only the thing exploded with a bang that brought the reporters rushing back to the hall; that lifted twenty, thirty, forty young people to their feet in a wild demand for a chance to talk; that split the convention with a division as wide as the Grand Canyon; that sent fists waving in the air; that made young men grow red in the face as they shouted their arguments; that made the older members of the assembly sit back in sheer amazement.

When the chairman finally banged the gavel and asked for a vote on the resolution, the assembly voted it down in a roar of disapproval. There were some strong voices that cried out in favour of total abstinence, but they were simply overwhelmed in the tidal wave of opposition, the roar of those who saw no slightest reason why young men and young women should be asked to give up drinking hard liquor.

The next day the papers made a grand spread of it: “Catholic Young People Approve Drink; Reject Total Abstinence.” And throughout the rest of the meeting those who had led the fight in favour of drink rubbed their hands in triumph and smiled complacent smiles.

REJECTED

That was in the year 1930. The scene was Chicago; the representative Catholic young people numbered twenty-two hundred and came from the best schools in the entire nation.

I am writing this booklet in the frank first person, as Father Lord. It was not my first experience with young people and the question of drink. Two years before, in 1928, the first Students’ Spiritual Leadership Convention had brought up the subject of total abstinence from intoxicating liquors merely as one resolution slipped into the midst of a number of others. It was passed by the assembled delegates simply because they could not reject that resolution without rejecting resolutions of loyalty to the Pope, of good citizenship, of devotion to the Blessed Sacrament, and to spread Catholic truth.

But once the voting was over, a committee of young men and young women called on me.

“That resolution on drink,” they said, “destroyed the sincerity of our whole convention. We have no intention of keeping it. We voted it in simply because it was sandwiched in with the rest. That’s too bad, and for us it took the edge off the whole convention and its work.”

PROHIBITION PREJUDICE

In 1929 the young people, this time a convention of young men, after a hot fight rejected a similar resolution overwhelmingly. That by the way was in the painful days of national prohibition. The Catholic papers back in 1928 were hammering at the ridiculous eighteenth amendment; Al Smith was running for President on a platform that implicitly promised to wipe that silly law off our books; young people thought they were proving their manhood or womanhood and their independence by defying the stupid amendment and following the lead of their elders, who were sinking temperance-by-legislation into a sea of bootleg and “rotgut.”

In 1932 the students’ resolution not to drink intoxicating liquor during their school years (and that meant all the way through college) came up again and was again overwhelmingly beaten. In 1934 the delegates trimmed the resolution down to a point where they went on record in favour of temperance in drinking, which was as emphatic a resolution as if they had commended the Ten Commandments, agreed not to kick their mothers in the teeth, and promised that under no circumstances would they blow up banks, drop baby brother head down on cement sidewalks, or send time bombs to objectionable neighbours. Temperance is simply the virtue by which we do not use things to commit mortal sin. But then it seemed some advance that the young people thought liquor should not be used for sinful purposes.

NO DRINKS ON DATES

In 1934, too, the students determined not to drink in mixed company or on dates. If that promise had been kept, it would have been a pretty ample and exciting forward step. But I am sorry to say that the phrase if . . . kept is the whole kink in the sentence.

In 1936, after discussing liquor and admitting that it was doing a lot of harm to young people, that high school students were drinking more than was good for them, and that social events were often spoiled by the presence of liquor, the young people tabled all resolutions about drink, and for once I spoke out my mind. I waited until they had voted, for I wanted no resolution passed merely because of what I might think about it. But when the voting was all over and they had rejected everything that might have obliged them to refrain from drinking, I told them I hoped to meet some day a crowd of young people brave enough to face the liquor situation as it actually exists and strong enough to make up their minds to do something about it.

BIG CHANGE

Well, years have elapsed, as years will, and apparently I’ve met that group I was hoping for. In the spring of 1939 we sent to students all over the country a questionnaire in which we asked them whether they thought drinking among young people was becoming better or worse. Overwhelmingly they answered that it was becoming worse, and much worse.

We asked them whether they thought something should be done about young people’s drinking. And they answered with a vigorous yes.

Then they went on to suggest a lot of things that they thought could be done. Most of the things were part of the good old national sport of buck passing, but just the same the answers showed clearly that the young men and young women of the year 1939 don’t think that drinking is a matter of asserting their independence, of defying a silly law called prohibition, of proving their loyalty to Al Smith, of moving along with the crowd. They are just as much worried about drink and its consequences as we oldsters are.

NO EMOTION, PLEASE

Hence this booklet. Hence this facing of a subject about which nobody really wants to talk. And hence my conviction that a lot of young people will read perhaps this far and then decline to read any farther.

But let me assure them that I have no intention of playing on their emotions. This is no pamphlet successor to “Ten Nights in a Bar room.” I shall hold up no horrible examples as tear-jerkers. I shall not turn on the delirium tremens or parade the pink elephants. But I should be happy if you, young reader, and you who may have the responsibility for young leaders, would be willing to let me discuss dispassionately and objectively the question of young people and drink.

If after our discussion you disagree. may I ask you to let me know why? I have the highest esteem for honest opinion. If you agree, how about doing something definite? That definite something is the only solution. If drinking is an evil, then only young people can solve it for themselves. Is it an evil? And if it is, will they have the courage, the intestinal fortitude to do something about it?

PICTURES IN INDIGO

I think that I am not painting a picture out of my own darksome, dank, dyspeptic imagination when I say that a lot of people think the whole drink situation these days is pretty bad. Quite a few shake their heads pessimistically and say, “If the advocates of drink wanted to bring back prohibition, they’d do just the things they are doing.”

Reputable liquor manufacturers are running advertisements to prove that their hands are clean of the abuses that surround the selling of liquor. They don’t approve, they pledge the nation, of selling liquor to minors. They think that a man should not take money that is needed for baby’s shoes and spend it on another pint. They think that dives, dark and smelly, are not the best meeting places for the nation’s womanhood and manhood. All of which is simply another way of saying that these abuses of drink are pretty widespread and that the liquor distillers are worried about them. The Brewers’ Institute, a national organisation, has taken the same prophylactic stand. They don’t want liquor abused. They don’t want drink made a menace to young people. They dislike the old-time saloon. They are afraid of what will happen if widespread drunkenness continues, if it is a common sight to see young people staggering out of taverns, if women habitually sit in lounge cars of swank streamliners and drink all the way from Chicago to California, if drink becomes the most important form of recreation in America.

FRIGHTENED?

It isn’t the professional prohibitionist or the W.C.T.U.-er who is frightened by what liquor is doing; it’s the man who is engaged in honestly making and honourably distributing liquor. Watch the changes in the character of beer and whisky advertisements, and you’ll see how true that is: Drink Is a Luxury, Not a Necessity. It Can Be Used; It Must Not Use the User. And if it is sold to minors and habitual drunkards, the law must and should enter in and call a stop.

All of which is interesting, but it does not impress me. I’m interested rather in what young people tell me about drink.

They tell me that the taverns are holes-in-the-wall that smell for the most part to high heaven. The taverns are kept deliberately dark with a suggestive kind of low light, as if the things going on were not to be exposed to the clean daylight or the bright frankness of honest electric light. The young people tell me that roadhouses are usually dumps, or worse; that the entertainment is vile; that drunkenness there is the general rule; that immorality is encouraged.

(By the way, the G-men became interested in this problem recently and sent one of their smartest men across the country to investigate. His trip is chronicled in a book that was reviewed in the news magazines during the early spring of 1939. He said, among other things, that the number of professional prostitutes in the country was growing, and that they were recruited in largest numbers from the dine-dance-and-drink roadhouses and taverns of the country. Those are now the places where most young women fall into lives of professional and habitual sin.)

SALOONS ARE OUT!

On one thing everyone, whether he favoured the drinking of liquor or opposed it, seemed to agree in those remote pre- prohibition days: The saloon must go. When the Democratic Party promised to repeal the eighteenth amendment, the framers of that platform plank were careful to promise that the saloon would not return.

Well, the saloon came back all right; the leopard had not changed its spots, even if it had changed its name. The saloon became the tavern and the roadhouse, but the bar, the brass rail, the white-coated bar-tender, even the sawdust and the free lunch came rolling right back. But there were marked differences, and none of them good. In those ancient pre-prohibition days any woman who went into a saloon was invading an exclusively masculine empire. She was an intruder; she didn’t belong. Or if she did belong, the saloon made no pretence to being respectable, and the woman laid no claims to being other than what everybody thought her. Saloons sometimes had a ladies’ or family entrance. But ladies-ladies in name at least-furtively sneaked in, hoping that nobody would see them, and sat far, far back in little private compartments, where they would not be recognised for who-or what-they were.

WOMEN TAKE OVER

I don’t need to tell the present generation that the saloon-turned-tavern is a hangout for the female “barfly.” One of Chicago’s biggest and finest hotels opened a bar for men only. Men asked for it. They were sick of having half-tight women hanging around, getting in the way of masculine drinking and masculine sociability. The bar lasted exactly one week. At the end of that time both the hotel and the men patrons gave up any attempt to keep women out; the women came in droves and defied anyone to eject them.

Following the women into the saloon-taverns came the young people, whom an honest bartender in pre-prohibition days would have pitched feet first out of his saloon on to the softest adjacent sidewalk.

I need not point out either that the presence of women and of young people in the saloon-tavern in no slightest way improved the atmosphere or the standard. Quite the contrary. The blues stories went on, only now there were slightly tipsy or drunken women there to giggle. Men’s passions were aroused by hard drink; there were women close at hand to make temptation easy.

I need not indicate that under modern drinking conditions the problem of the man who drinks and the drunken man has widened to include the problem of the woman who drinks and the drunken woman. And the adolescents of today stagger and hiccough and go blind at an age when the adolescents formerly were content with milk-shakes and strawberry sodas.

DRINK SPOILS PARTIES

I am told by young people that they have a lot of trouble at their social affairs with the young man who arrives slightly obfuscated and who brings drink along or insists on buying it; that getting drunk at private parties is by no means the unusual thing; that young women go home in cars driven by young men who are so far gone that only a long-developed driving instinct and St. Christopher keep the car from curling around a lamp-post-though not always out of the path of ‘buses and trucks and trains; that young women “pass out” on dates and wake up to find their virginity gone; that under the influence of drink young couples find themselves becoming maudlinly amorous, dangerously passionate; that some schools have had to forbid all dances and parties under school auspices- which had formerly been allowed and encouraged-because of abuses at those functions.

HOTEL EVIDENCE

Hotel managers have shown me beautiful parlours that had been wrecked by crowds of young people-mirrors broken, tables stained beyond hope of revarnishing, roses cut out of rugs for a joke. They have told me that the management has learned to remove all breakable objects when young people of a certain high school or college level come to their hotels for a party. “But,” said one manager to me, “I’ll show you what they can do.”

He showed me the beautiful marble top of a fireplace split right down the centre by a drunken crowd of young people. This was, I may add, in one of the country’s finest and most expensive hotels.

“Nowadays,” another manager told me, “we demand a deposit for breakage. Then when the gang is gone, we count up the cost of the wreckage and take the expenses out of the deposit.”

I’m not making this up. This is plain factual report from the hotels. Realism, if you like that word. But it speaks louder than I ever could on the whole subject of young people and drink.

PLAIN DISGUSTING

I’ve yet to meet a person who thought in sober moments that a drunken man was other than disgusting. The only time a drunken man seems amusing is when he is surrounded by people a little more drunk or just a little less drunk than himself. Then any silly thing he does, like putting on a ‘woman’s hat (certainly a most excruciating thing, a joke de luxe), seems terribly, terribly funny to his associates. But to sober people-that is, to the people whose intellectual judgment has not dropped down to the level of that of befuddled morons, he seems only a pitiable sight, only an object of distaste.

As for a drunken woman, notably a drunken young woman-Well what does she look like to you? I sat not so long ago at the lunch counter of a railroad station. In reeled a drunken young man and young woman dressed in expensive evening clothes, obviously blessed (or cursed) with money, clearly from what we call the upper stratum of society. They sat unsteadily on stools at the counter, drinking black coffee. They were maudlinly affectionate. Their speech was thick. Their gestures were unsteady and uncertain. She spilled coffee down the front of her beautiful frock. He tried to wipe it off and fell off the stool in the process.

The man behind the counter laughed just once, a sharp, ironic, bitter laugh, a laugh so filled with contempt and disdain that it burned my ears. As for the rest of us- Well we could not keep our eyes off them. I saw heads draw together and lips curl as people made nasty comments. I left my breakfast unfinished and walked out into the fresh morning air.

The drunken young man was bad enough. The drunken young woman was something to make the angels weep. If angels can weep, I am sure they were weeping at that ugly, ignoble spectacle.

It is true that some men like women to drink, men who feel that a woman’s drinking makes their own drunkenness seem less shameful. But I have never known a decent man who wasn’t sick at the sight of a woman staggering from drink. I have never known a man who didn’t feel that the whole human race was lowered in the person of a drunken woman.

ITS COST IS HIGH

Drinking, I am told by young people, is extremely expensive. I’ve noticed the price of drinks on the menus myself, and I confess that I don’t see how most young people can afford to drink-at least drinks that have a basis of something besides fusel oil and raw alcohol. A good highball commands the same price as an evening at a first-run motion-picture theatre. A round of drinks for two couples costs more than a seat at a good play. You could buy a bestselling novel for the price paid for mixed drinks for four people.

The Government, hoping to control liquor drinking by making it expensive, slapped tremendous taxes on liquor in all forms. All that the Government has succeeded in doing apparently is to raise the price without lowering the quantity of consumption.

But I know young married couples who, horribly enough, can’t “afford” to have a baby because their liquor bills are so high. I know young men who are broke all the week but still manage to save enough to spend a Saturday evening in a tavern, drinking expensive drinks with some crowd of young people. It is the only recreation these people have. Their sole form of entertainment consists in pouring questionable mixtures down their young throats and into their young brains.

FANATIC?

Now, I hope I am not a fanatic. The statements I have made are really not my own; they are merely a repetition of what honest young people have told me. They echo the things I have seen with the most objective eyes. For I think I have a fairly sane attitude towards liquor. As I understand it, the following things are unquestionably true:

In themselves alcoholic drinks are neither good nor bad. Neither, to take instances from the two extremes, are apples or opium, prunes or morphine good or bad. Use is what determines the goodness or badness of all these things. A man can become deliberately sick on green apples or take opium for the thrill of the thing. But apples may do him a deal of good on the principle that an apple a day keeps the doctor busy with patients other than oneself. Or opium may be an important drug in the hands of a skilled physician.

And drink . . .

DRINK AT HOME

Well, there are highly civilised families that make drink a part of the family menu. A cocktail is served to the entire family before dinner. There is wine with the proper course. In summer mint juleps will follow a hot tennis game and precede the evening meal. And I know fine families in which the children, even the little children, are early initiated into civilised drinking. They start by eating the ice out of the julep glass. They are given a little sip of their parents’ cocktail. On festive occasions they even get their little glass of sweet wine or beer.

In some nations-wholesome nations- wine is considered to belong on the table with the rest of the normal food. Some countries find in beer their normal beverage, with coffee a sort of feast-day event. I know how surprised I was to discover that in Italy wine was drunk with meals but that when a man and a woman went out to celebrate they sat in a little cafe, preferably on the sidewalk, and drank tiny cups of coffee.

Now, if young people drink at home, I, for one, have little worry about them. When a young man or a young woman declines to take the pledge because beer or wine is served with the family meals, he or she is quite sensible. And he is not likely to develop into a heavy drinker. (It is a great mistake, however, to suppose that among the nations that drink at meals there are no drunkards. That is a hoary fable known to be entirely incorrect.) As a rule, however, home drinking is safe drinking. People who drink with the family and around the family table are not likely to drink too much. And certainly, under those circumstances there is not the slightest danger of temptation following drink.

ST. PAUL

St. Paul’s often-quoted advice to his beloved young Bishop was to “use a little wine for thy stomach’s sake.” Poor St. Paul would have been dumbfounded if he had known that his advice would be used as an excuse for men to drink their heads off and their stomachs out of all natural proportions. Clearly, he did not think wine in itself an evil, any more than the dear Lord did when He changed water into the mild, gentle wine that added an extra element of gaiety to the wedding feast of the poor bridal couple at Cana. But St. Paul shrewdly suggested that wine was something of a medicine. And he was smart enough to thrust into the proper place the important adjective little.

THE FOLLY OF PROHIBITION

I am not fool enough to believe that drinking will ever be controlled by laws. We are still groaning from the effects of that mighty fiasco called prohibition. Liquor was forbidden, so it became exciting. People collected liquor where formerly they collected stamps or old brass. Liquor became romantic, something to be bought on the sly, to be delivered through an outsidethe-law arrangement, to be consumed in secrecy, and to be lifted in toasts of damnation to frustrated lawmakers.

The effects of the era of temperance-by-repression were obvious. Women started to drink hard liquor where formerly they had sipped muscatel wine. Youngsters started toting flasks just to prove what lawbreakers and general “hellers” they were. Girls started to sample the fruit of a new kind of forbidden tree. And the gangsters and the racketeers hired squads of bookkeepers to figure out their profits.

Of course, we were promised that when prohibition was repealed people would become very, very sane about it all. They haven’t. I can find scarcely any objective observer, whatever his attitude on the subject of drink, who doesn’t maintain that more people are drinking more liquor today than during the days of prohibition. The young people did not give up liquor just because it became legal and they could drink without defying the law. And evidently women had developed a taste for drink that lingered on. Muscatel seemed pretty weak and sissy to a taste accustomed to shots of Scotch or bourbon.

SELF-REGULATION

The only way in which a nation learns to use liquor correctly is by education of the individuals. England has stern closing laws; these cut down the opportunity for drink, but do not have much effect on drunkenness. New York requires that food be served with drink, a natural and highly commendable custom. But it’s positively grotesque to see the food that is ostentatiously placed, not for the use of customers, but for the watchful eyes of the police-the bowls of dusty pretzels on each table, the dishes of potato chips, the standardised lunch on the bars, a lunch that only a slightly drunk person would dare to tackle.

Self-regulation is the way to handle drink. One’s own attitude toward liquor is what will in the long run determine its use or its scandalous abuse. I know that. And that is why I am writing as I do. Accuse me of being a fanatic, but do it only on the grounds that I am fanatical in my desire to see young people get all the best and only the best out of life and in my hatred of seeing liquor do to them what I now see it doing to so alarmingly many.

There are, however, just a few facts about alcoholic drinks that nobody has ever denied.

At present drinks are, as I’ve merely noted before, extremely expensive. When they are not expensive, they are probably very bad and dangerous. Cheap liquor is raw, green, unaged liquor. It may have been bottled without Government inspection. It may actually be rank poison.

ALCOHOL

Alcohol taken in small quantities does give an apparent stimulation to a person’s perceptions. For a brief time he seems to see more clearly, be more alert. His wit is sometimes more responsive. He is there with the snappy “comeback.”

Beyond that point though, he is not nearly so alert. For alcohol is a narcotic. It puts people to sleep. In ancient days it was given to men who were about to be crucified, so that their initial pains would not be so intense. It makes the reactions sluggish. It makes the eyes less perceptive. A man driving an automobile after he has been drinking finds that he does not make the instinctive driving gestures so quickly as he does when he is absolutely sober. That is why so many accidents are caused by slightly intoxicated drivers. They try to do the things they do when sober-slip a car out of gear, bear down on the brake, catch the hand brake-and they do these things perceptibly slowly. The result? Where in a sober state they would have stopped or controlled the car and avoided an accident, with even a little drinking they have been slower by seconds, just enough to cause the delay necessary for an accident.

SLEEP-PRODUCING

So now State and city police give drivers drink tests, not drunk tests. A man may be quite capable of walking a chalk line after he’s had two or three drinks, but those drinks have slowed up his reflexes.

He is driving as if he were somewhat under the influence of chloroform. He is partially asleep. His eyes do not gauge distance accurately. His ears are not so keen to catch sound; his brain is not keen to co-ordinate it.

Drink puts a man slightly to sleep. That is just another way of saying that his efficiency is notably lowered.

That is why factory managers are afraid to have drinking men around machinery. Their reactions are slowed down. They get in the way of machines. After even a drink or two they are more likely to hurt themselves and, by misjudging the movement of the machines, to cause hurt to others.

So the bigger and more important the company, the more likely it is not to want drinking men working for it. It objects to having people supposedly on the job when they are really partly asleep, slightly doped. Their brains are not quick. Their hands are likely to fumble. They make mistakes.

But any young man knows just from the effect on his own feet what a deadening, doping effect follows from even a little more than enough liquor.

Another thing that is well known is that a drinking man has a much lowered chance of coming successfully through an operation. Physicians always find out about their patients drinking habits. If those habits are bad, the chances of a successful operation are decidedly less. If the patient is a drinker, the chances are that pneumonia will hit him much harder and his recovery will be more doubtful.

THE TERRIBLE HABIT

Everyone knows, of course, that alcoholic drinks are habit-forming. When a man takes a drink of water, he drinks until his thirst is satisfied; then he has finished. That is true of all the so-called soft drinks.

One drinks for the pleasure of the taste or for the quenching of thirst. When that has been taken care of, one is content and does not want any more.

The exact opposite is true of alcoholic drinks. They do not satisfy; they create a demand for more. A man drinks an alcoholic drink to quench his thirst, and he is surprised to find after a short time that he is .thirstier than he was before. He takes several drinks, and, far from having his thirst quenched and his taste satiated, he wants to go on and on.

So, after a night of drinking, men wake up with a most terrific thirst. After a lifetime of drinking, a man has a developed thirst that cries constantly to be satisfied. Kipling put that into a famous phrase when he talked of the road to Mandalay as a spot where “a man can raise a thirst.”

Now, I’ve heard that thirst explained by chemists and physiologists in this way: In the cells of our body there is a certain amount of fluid, which is absolutely necessary for our health and our normal living. When a man is dehydrated, when the fluid is dried up, he is a sick man. After enough water or fluid has been dried up, he is doomed to die. Men can get along without food much longer than they can without drink, simply because that fluid is essential for health, for life. Modern medicine advises the drinking of a lot of water and much fruit juice, which contain a great deal of water.

THIRST-CREATING

Now, alcohol is deceptive. It looks like a fluid, but, the chemists explained to me, it doesn’t act like a fluid. While it passes the palate with a liquid flow and a pleasant taste (if properly mixed with other elements), it does not pass into the cells to take the place of the fluid needed there.

So when a man drinks water, his thirst is diminished. When he drinks alcohol in any form, he has the brief sensation of quenched thirst, but shortly after that his thirst grows more intense, for the alcohol has actually served to dehydrate him. It has dried up the needed fluid in his cells. As a consequence, when a man is a heavy drinker, he is thirsty all the time. His cells are constantly dry, and every drink he takes dries them up a little more. So, after a time he has to drink constantly, or he is miserable. He discovers that what was once a pleasurable sensation has now become a slave necessity. He has to drink, and then to drink more to overcome the drying out caused by the first drink, and then more and more, until the habit is physiologically tied to him. Drunkards are not cured by any mere strength of will. They are physically sick people. They have acquired a habit that is based on an artificial physical need. Curing them is a long and laborious process, one that is torture to themselves and that demands infinite patience on the part of the medical men who treat them.

And-what is more important-habits of drinking are established early in life. Few, if any, men who start to drink at, say, the age of forty, ever become habitual drunkards. But if a young man has the habit of drink before he is twenty, the chances of his ever recovering are terrifyingly slight.

All this, however, is commonplace, and so well-known that it merely has to be mentioned here for the sake of a certain completeness.

DRINK AND SEX

The connection between drinking and sexual immorality is something else that is well-known and yet extremely important to look at in any discussion of young people and drink.

From time immemorial men have put drink and sex sins into adjacent categories. People go out “to get drunk and raise hell.” Men have always been fully aware of two important things:

First, that if they drank sufficiently, their sexual passions would inevitably be excited.

Second, that if they could get any woman to drink with them, her resistance to their persuasions would be decidedly lowered.

Often men make themselves drunk because under the influence of drink they sin more boldly and more lustily. They persuade women to become drunk because they know that even slightly drunken women are relatively easy victims.

Now, it is perfectly silly to say that all drinkers are lustful men or that all women who drink are going to be ruined. But the ancient tradition of lust among drinking men has been terribly perpetuated in our modern times. Thousands of young men who have gone out with young women and have drunk a little too much have found their passions slipping beyond control and themselves utterly careless about consequences. Thousands of young women have drunk along with the young men, have felt their moral sense of right and wrong sinking in most surprising fashion, have found themselves becoming amorous and yielding, and have awakened from their semi-stupor to find their virginity gone and themselves facing a ruined future.

TEMPTATIONS GROW STRONG

Please don’t, kindly reader, think that I am drawing on an emotional imagination. This is just plain, cold, hard, bitter fact, the experience of thousands of young people of our day and age.

So it is that today young unmarried couples go out on a party and get drunk. From that point on their sense of decency largely disappears. They are careless about consequences. The law for them vanishes in fumes of drink. They do things of which in their sober moments they would be ghastly ashamed. They go to hell with a silly laugh because they hardly know what they do.

That’s why high school crowds drink. Under the influence of drink love-making of an evil sort becomes easy: The boy is passionate; the girl is yielding. When they come out from under the effects of the narcotic-that is what liquor really is -they look back upon the experiences that have changed horribly the whole course of their life.

When in the old days the temperance lecturers pointed out that drinking and prostitution went hand in hand, they knew what they were talking about. Now, that supposedly decent young men and women have started to drink extensively together the passionate consequences hit right into their own experiences.

FOLLY’S ALLY

Now, God knows that young people have enough problems to face in the normal temptations that surround youth. Why should they increase these problems with the temptations that arise from drinking together? A young man feels enough passionate urges within himself; he shouldn’t want to excite these urges through drink. A young woman has to have all the strength in the world to resist the insistence of modern temptations. Why should she want to do things that would make her moral standards looser, that would make her an easier victim for some unscrupulous or aroused male?

Seduction has no more powerful ally than drink.

Passion has no more powerful stimulant than drink.

Virtue has no more deadly enemy than drink.

Rotters and the corrupters of innocence have always known this. They have unscrupulously used their knowledge to increase the number of their victims. It was more or less left to our modern times-to our shame-to bring the deadly passionate effects of drinking into the supposedly better society from which are to come the mothers and the fathers of the future.

I am only sorry that the hesitance one feels in the face of cold print keeps me from saying what I really think and know about all this. Only a priest or a doctor could tell young men and women the lifelong consequences that have followed the taking of one drink too many. Each story is a new tragedy. Each story is as old as the alliance between drink and passion.

FUTURE PARENTS

Naturally, anyone who is interested in young people sees them as they really are, the mothers and fathers of the future.

I do not need to go into any details of the horrible thing it is to have a drunken father. Literature and human history have repeated that ghastly story too often. I never see a young man contracting the habit of drink without thinking of his future as a husband. I wonder how many nights his wife will sit up waiting for his hesitant, faltering step on the porch or in the hallway. I wonder how soon it will be before his children will become aware that they have a drunkard for a father. I shudder a little as I realise that some of those children may be conceived in moments of drunken passion or stupor. I think of the jobs he will lose, the professional success he will never attain, the money he will squander, the tears and agony he will cause because early in life he contracted the habit of drink.

“Oh,” say you, my fine lad, “that won’t happen to me. I can take it or leave it alone.”

Forgive my ironic laughter.

There never was a drunkard in the making who didn’t use exactly that same chestnut-and seem to believe it. Worse: there never was a drunkard staggering through life who didn’t believe that he could stop drinking any time he made up his mind to do so. And all the while the habit was fastening welded chains on him, creating a physical condition with which medical skill would have to struggle, often in vain.

AND MOTHERS?

As for a drunken mother, that is a picture and a possibility we should prefer not to consider. Unfortunately, if young women’s drinking continues at its present rate, that possibility will become a terrifying and appalling reality, I should prefer to let you draw your own picture of the children of a mother who is given even occasionally to drink. I would rather not look with you into her home, or into the hearts of her children as they realise their mother’s secret or open vice.

“But,” I hear you protest, rapidly, “this is certainly the extreme case. Why does he drag out this tremolo stop and get us all emotionally excited over something that won’t remotely happen to us?”

It is happening to thousands. It isn’t the child of the slums these days who has the drunken mother; it’s very likely the child in the country-club house, in the apartment on Park Avenue. It’s not the illiterate woman who is the tippler; it’s the woman with the college degree and the background that should mean culture and social grace.

But even if you, my good young friends, are not remotely connected with such a possibility, such a possibility exists for others. And because it does, I wanted to present it. Later on I shall come back to it once more.

THE OLD PLEDGE

In the days that happily preceded prohibition there was a custom universal among American Catholics that deserves a nod of recognition. When children were confirmed, they all stood, raised their right hands, and took a solemn pledge to abstain from all intoxicating liquors, including beer, cider, and wine, until they reached the age of twenty-one. That pledge was taken for granted exactly in the same way that vaccination was. In fact, I think it was a sort of spiritual vaccination.

The origins of that pledge go back to the days of the great Father Mathew. (You’ll find statues of him all over Ireland.)

FATHER MATHEW

The crusade of Father Mathew and the work he did for Ireland are truly grand. He arrived at priesthood in the early section of the nineteenth century, to find that drink was the national curse of Ireland. Why this was so is not difficult to understand. Ireland had gone through three hundred years of the most frightful persecution. Sorrow was the lot of the island, and men fled from their sorrows to drink. The “creature” made them forget, at least for a time, the wrongs they were suffering, the poverty that had been blanketed upon them.

In addition, England had made intellectual life difficult by refusing the Irish higher education, except at the cost of their Faith, and had snatched most forms of recreation from the grip of the despised Irish peasant. Drink took the place of other forms of recreation. It briefly awoke the imagination and supplied for the lack of the denied education.

But Father Mathew made war on drink in Ireland. He saw the effect it had on the men. He saw the sorrows it brought to their wives and mothers and children. He counted up the money squandered, the talents wasted. He was shocked that, whatever the excuse, Ireland should be branded with the accusation of drunkenness. He waged his crusade. Hundreds of thousands took the pledge. And when they came to the new land, America, they brought their pledge with them; the pledge at confirmation became the custom of the Church in America.

Father Mathew saw the ravages of drink in his beloved country. For him there was no solution but the complete elimination of drink. He did not meet the evil by appealing for temperance. He wanted total abstinence. That was the only way the horrors of drunkenness and of drink could be killed. Hence his crusade. Hence the pledge.

IRELAND TODAY

The pledge lapsed in Ireland shortly after his death, and to some extent drink came back into its evil own. But today Ireland has another great crusade, and temperance pioneers by the hundreds of thousands take the pledge of total abstinence, many of them for life. You see them everywhere in Ireland, with the little lapel pin that marks them as pioneers. The vast majority of the young priests have taken this pledge to abstain from intoxicating liquor, and have taken it for life. And the effect on the youth of Ireland has been tremendous.

No half measures there. Drink was an evil. They would strike that evil the powerful blow of an Irishman and a fighter.

Now I am not going directly to ask young Catholics to take any pledge. I took one in my day. My associates did. Not one of us drank. No party we attended ever had the slightest smell of liquor in any form. I know we didn’t need it. Yet, from what I know of young people today, I, even though I am no lover of the days that are passed, know that we had a great deal more fun at a great deal less expense than today’s young people are having. That, however, is beside the point.

THE CASE

Let me state my case, and you can draw your own conclusion.

First of all, it is my contention that young people with anything north of their necklines do not need drink to make possible a good time.

Drink is a social element in some cases; I freely admit that. When people find one another somewhat dull and conversation languishes, when they are physically too tired or creaky to do the energetic things they did as youngsters, then drink may supply a social need. It’s a pickup for brains tired from a long day’s and a long life’s work. It makes conversation sound clever though in reality in may be very dull. It puts a brief and fictitious life into older people’s dancing. It stimulates a gaiety to which the oldsters have lost their natural right. I can see the place of liquor, of drink, in the parties of somewhat dull older people.

But young people don’t need any artificial stimulant for their social life, not if they are even slightly awake and remotely alive. They love to be together and have a quick flow of conversation and a spontaneous crackling of wit. They dance without growing tired. The party just starts for them about the time when the oldsters are sinking into exhaustion. They are quite as full of pep on lemonade or root beer as their fathers and mothers would be on two strong highballs each. They don’t have to build their inner fires; they have to bank them. They don’t need something to make them want to get up and sing and dance and take exercise and run the shoes off their feet. They simply don’t need alcoholic stimulant.

FOR A GOOD TIME

I know this: A crowd of young people have a great deal more fun without drink than they have with it. Without drink they are their own natural, unaffected, robust, vigorous selves. With it they are slightly self-conscious, probably trying to act older than they are, at the very time when they should be delighted to act their age. They become maudlin and sentimental or silly and sticky. Drink is not oil on their wheels; it’s wet asphalt into which the party bogs down.

There’s this to consider: Really to enjoy a good time, a person needs the full use of his faculties. He should be keen, alive, awake, seeing and hearing everything that goes on, knowing every move, hearing every joke, joining in with every burst of song and laughter. When a young man gets a few drinks in him, he becomes soggy or dull, amorous or belligerent. He starts breaking up the party by wanting to make love to some girl or to fight some boy. He grows stupid and sleepy and silly and annoying. And unless the rest are in the same state, they want to toss him out on his ear.

Besides, when he’s under the influence of liquor, how does he know he’s having a good time? He’s not quite all there. He doesn’t catch the jokes. He misses what’s going on. He’s slightly sleepy. He’s very much doped. The party swirls around him in a hazy blur. He’s there, but not quite all there. He’s in the crowd, but he’s almost “all in.”

NOT NEEDED

For the life of me I can’t see how a man or a woman under the influence of the narcotic that is alcohol can think he or she is having as good a time as has the person who has the full use of his senses.

Nobody has ever enjoyed life more than I have, I honestly believe. And I’ve never needed the inner glow called alcohol to make that good time possible.

Why should you need it, you who are young and full of life, with keen senses that need no stimulant and resent a drug?

I repeat: The best times that young people ever have are completely without intoxicants. I know. My own experience tells me that. What young people admit in their moments of real honesty tells me that. And your experience bears me out.

ARE YOU LEADERS?

But there is another angle on all this, and I think a fine young Catholic will see it clearly. Drink is doing a world of harm today. Everybody admits that. Young people are loudest in confessing the facts. All right, then; someone has to make a start toward correcting that evil. Prohibition failed. Any attempt to establish laws to outlaw drink will simply meet the fate of that last bitter experiment.

What can be done?

It all boils down to the same old thing- the example of a few brave, fine individuals.

I honestly believe that most Catholic young people are temperate. They know that they don’t need drink for their good times. They don’t go around to taverns expecting to find in that dank, dreary, smelly atmosphere a good time. They are not the drunkards of the future.

So really drink means little to their young lives, thank God. They can take it or leave it alone. Then why not, for the sake of the weak, leave it alone? If the example of young Catholics drinking lemonade in a crowd that is becoming slightly fuzzy with inferior Scotch and soda would be valuable-and surely it would-why not give that example? If we could prove to the young world that alcohol merely gets in the way of young people in their effort to have a good time, wouldn’t that be a valuable demonstration? Why should we refuse the relatively easy sacrifice needed to be totally abstemious in a world where young people are rushing crazily to taverns and night clubs and roadhouses and are fogging their young brains with bad liquor and endangering their whole future for the sake of a few drinks that may bring on a habit destructive of life itself?

SETTING THE STANDARD

Catholic young people and, in general, all good, decent young people, live surrounded by boys and girls that are imperiled in body and soul by drink. Drinking temperately won’t impress these endangered youths. If you drink at all, then they have the only justification they want to drink their silly heads off. But if they know that any sizeable body of young people don’t drink, they’ll stop and think. If they know that these fine young people don’t drink, not because of any law or any compulsion placed on them by others, but because they think they don’t need it and are sure that it might do them harm, the weaker ones might get the strength to follow that example.

A crowd of young people go out for an evening; one of them has the frank courage to order soft drinks. Inevitably that has an effect on the others. If he’s a fine young man, a leader in every way, that effect is marked and lasting. If she’s a fine young girl, the mere fact that she refuses hard liquor may give other girls in the crowd courage to do the same. I’ve known young men and young women who had just that courage. I know that the effect they had was magnificent.

Liquor among young people is a terrible evil today. It’s silly to pretend that it isn’t. It will do the whole future terrible harm. If we oldsters start preaching, you youngsters will grow irritated, and a lot of the hot young rebels will take that as their cue to show to us that nobody is going to boss them around. If the evils result in legislation-as they stand a good show of doing-young people will start kicking the law around again.

Anyhow, young people admit that they can handle their own affairs. Here’s an affair they’ll be smart to handle, and handle swiftly and adequately.

So what happens to the present generation depends upon the present generation. Someone has to start being strong. Someone has to give up the distinctly unimportant and very expensive luxury that is drink. Some one has to prove that young people don’t need drink in order to have a good time. Someone has to show that he is keenly aware of the perils of drink to people of his age. Who better than Catholics, who have all the grace and strength that are theirs plus their admitted responsibility to set a good example to others?

SCANDAL

There’s another angle on this that I cannot fail to notice. We Catholics, rightly or wrongly, are thought of as having the habit of drinking to excess. “The good old Catholic vice of drunkenness,” someone sneeringly called it. Well, Protestantism has regarded drinking as a horrible sin. Protestants have pointed the finger of scorn at drunken Catholics; because of the single drunken Catholic they happened to know, they have turned away from all of us. Their viewpoint is unfair. But we are not likely to impress them with the glory of truth and the beauty of our faith if they see us indulging to excess in drink or even drinking just for the good time we think we get out of it.

St. Paul said that if the fact that he ate meat was cause of scandal to anyone he would not eat meat. If we have anything of his apostolic spirit, we will realise that, false though the inferences may be, the drinking of some Catholics keeps some very good and sincere Protestants from even considering the claims of the Church. We can do our little part to eliminate that barrier in their way to the full truth.

A NOBLE MOTIVE

But it was the really great Father Reiner, of Loyola University, in Chicago, who thought of a motive for abstaining from drink that, it seems to me, should touch every young Catholic’s heart. He merely pointed to the figure of Christ on the Cross and recalled that moment when He cried out, “I thirst.”

We know what that cry meant. We know that on the Cross Christ suffered for every type of sin. If thirst racked His tortured body, it was because of the awful sins of drunkenness that have marked the sordid progress of drink through man’s history.

The crimes of drunkenness and the crimes that follow because of drunkenness caused the awful thirst of Christ upon Calvary. The cry of the incurable drunkard was in His sacred throat. The torture of body cells sucked dry, a torture that follows drunkenness, was His. And He suffered new and acute agony because He was carrying in His own sacred person the multiplied sins that are the results of drink.

YOUTH’S RESPONSE

We owe Christ, Father Reiner quietly said, reparation for that awful moment of His agony. How can we best repay that debt? The answer is obvious-by giving up the dangerous and totally unnecessary indulgence in drink. We make our abstinence a glorious sacrifice offered to the thirsting Christ. Our renunciation eases the agony of His thirst even as He looked from Calvary down through the ages and saw the multiplied crimes associated with drunkenness. He saw the splendid young Catholic man and woman giving up drink for His sake, and the horror of that divine thirst was lessened.

Father Reiner’s plea had its effect. Hundreds, perhaps thousands, of young men, agreed to make that relatively easy offering to the dying Christ. They held their act of renunciation to the lips of the thirsting Saviour, knowing how gratifying it would be to His parched throat. They could not permit themselves to be responsible for Christ’s cry, a cry brought on by sins of drinking. They did their important bit to ease the thirst of their beloved master.

The increase of drunkenness in this country is a mounting peril. The perils that drink holds are frightening even youth itself.

Temperance is not enough. We need heroic steps. Youth boasts that it is naturally heroic.

Can youth in this most important case be as heroic as the importance of the issue demands?

I believe that youth can. But it is the thirsting Christ who waits for their response.

Nihil obstat:

J. DONOVAN,

Censor Deputatus.

Imprimatur:

@ D. MANNIX,

Archiep. Melbournensis

I Can’t Copythat Family!

FRANCIS L. FILAS, S. J

INDEX

YOU can see them doing it. They’re shaking their heads, politely saying “no.” That seems to be their reply to what Pope Leo XIII wrote in 1892.

The Holy Father said:

“A benign Providence established the Holy Family in order that all Christians in whatever walk of life . . . might have a reason and an incentive to practise every virtue provided they fix their gaze on the Holy Family.”

But these people-good, fervent Christians, no doubt-still can’t believe the truth of the Pope’s words. All Christians in whatever walk of life are to imitate the Holy Family? It would be too good to be true. Anyway, it’s impossible-so they claim.

And it’s regrettable they speak that way. By such an attitude they are closing the door on one of the most precious treasures God has given us to help us reach a life where holiness and happiness and peace go hand in hand.

I”ve often wondered at this reluctance to accept the Holy Family as an ideal. Even Catholics who profess high standards in their family life have made statements about it that cannot square with the truth. Somewhere there exist misunderstandings about the imitability of the Holy Family. What are they? Suppose we list some of them.

Almost certainly, the list will be headed by this: “Joseph and Mary lived in a virginal marriage. Therefore, they cannot serve as models for husbands and wives who use their marriage rights in the Sacrament of Matrimony.”

Another form of the same misunderstanding: “If we happen to have a large family given us by God, how can we look on Mary as a model mother, since she had only one Child?”- and as a mother of eleven was quoted humorously as saying- “and He was God, and I”ve got my eleven all full of the devil!”

A third: “Jesus could not commit sin. Mary and Joseph did not commit sin. How can such a trio be a model for a sinner like me?”

And a fourth: “God chose Mary and Joseph for so special a vocation that He protected them with a providential care far surpassing what we ordinary mortals get. Mary and Joseph knew in advance that everything would come out all right in the end.”

Let’s answer the last objection first.

We also know that everything will come out all right in the end, if we’re willing to place our trust in God’s word. Such faith in His providence tells us that God’s ways are unsearchable and that we are not able to understand all His decisions, but nonetheless all of them are allperfect. The knowledge that God’s providence exists does not take suffering out of our lives. We still have to put our trust in the loving care of our heavenly Father, knowing that what He does is for the best, even though we cannot grasp how it is for the best.

Exactly the same held true for Joseph and Mary. To think that they lived in some sort of fairy castle, free from discouragement and doubt and suffering, simply does not fit the facts. God did not reveal to them at each moment what the next would bring.

In reading the Gospel story of the Incarnation, we cannot escape the force of what it implies: Jesus, Mary, and Joseph were accepted as ordinary people by their neighbours. This acceptance explains to a great extent how the secret of the Incarnation was kept so well. To all outward appearances, they must have been very ordinary people.

Mary did not know she was to be the Mother of God until the Angel Gabriel came to ask her consent. Moreover, Joseph was unaware of the identity of Mary’s unborn child until he was informed in a dream that the child was the Saviour Himself. Up to the time of each of these “annunciations” Mary and Joseph had no hint that God was to use their humble co-operation when He would take on Himself the flesh of mankind.

All this adds up to another conclusion. A special providence of God brought Joseph and Mary together to prepare for their future roles, but at the time God left them in ignorance of what their future would contain.

All their lives God led them by the path of faith, from beginning to end. When Mary visited Elizabeth, her cousin, she was greeted with the words, “Blessed is she who has believed, because the things promised her by the Lord shall be accomplished.” In the case of the just man, St. Joseph, it is but logical to recall Holy Scripture’s phrase, “My just man lives by faith.”

You may reasonably object: “Didn’t Mary and Joseph know the prophecies of old, that when the Saviour would come He would suffer and die and thus enter into His glory?” Yes, they knew the prophecies, but they did not know precisely when or how the prophecies would be fulfilled. Even after they were initiated into the mystery of the Incarnation, they still were ignorant of God’s exact plan.

When the Infant Jesus was presented in the Temple, Simeon prophesied that a sword of sorrow would pierce the heart of Mary. He did not mention the time. Herod sought to kill the Child. That might have been the end, for all that Joseph and Mary could say. The twelve-year-old Boy was lost in the Temple. Perhaps this was the time for His enemies and the powers of darkness to seize Him? Even during the long years of the Hidden Life there was no knowing when the placid monotony of that existence would be brought to an abrupt close. After the Public Life began, Mary could realize it was only a question of time until the sword of sorrow would come.

It is not mere fanciful conjecture to say that Mary and Joseph were kept in ignorance of the plans of the Redemption. Our Lord’s words (when His parents found Him in the Temple) are proof enough of the truth: “How is it that you sought me?Did you not know that I must be about my Father’s business?” St. Luke adds: “And they did not understand the word that He spoke tothem.”

“Well!” you say, “that makes them a little more human. They had trials after all, worse trials than I have. But they were sinless. I am not . . .”

Sinlessness did not make them any less human. In our own day sin is often pictured as something attractive. The virtuous person is supposed to be the one who has lost all the “joy of life”—sin lets one taste forbidden fruit- sin gives you the thrill of really living

But nothing is said of bitterness and remorse, the frustrated “biting away” of one’s conscience. Nothing is said of the sinner’s impulse to flee his sense of guilt, his fear of being alone with himself with time to realize fully how wrong he has been.

On the other hand, we must admit that some virtuous persons- and by no means all- have personalities that are not very attractive. Perhaps their virtue is marred by imperfections in charity, making them less likeable neighbours. Naturally, in such a case the kinks in their personality might be attributed to the fact that they are observing God’s law. But the blame should be put where it is deserved. The reasons for being a human porcupine do not lie in being good. They arise from other faults, from selfishness, perhaps from a narrow pride that limits one’s spiritual horizon.

What of the supposedly attractive personality of the sinner? Again, the source of his attractiveness should be correctly identified: not sin-which can only be ugly in its lying, its self-centredness, its greed-but rather talents of likeableness which would be all the more enhanced if their possessor would reinforce them with the solid truthfulness of virtue.

The strongest cause of discouragement in imitating the Holy Family is probably this idea that goodness and attractiveness cannot go hand in hand. The Gospels imply that Jesus, Mary, and Joseph were accepted by their neighbours as ordinary people. That can only mean they had the normal traits of a good neighbour. The story of the Public Life reveals the tremendous magnetism Jesus exercised over people of all ages and in all walks of life-children and oldsters, men and women of every rank. Someone has said that the acid test of our Lord’s lovableness was the fact that the children wanted to come to Him. No child wants to play with a gruff elder.

Perhaps the humanness of the Holy Family is not appreciated because we are twenty centuries removed from their time. We cannot easily realize how much their living conditions were like our own. True, in details their food, clothing, and shelter were those of Orientals in a land and an era far in the past. But the picture grows lifelike when we think of the holiest Three sitting cross-legged around a low, table on the beaten mud floor of their home. They are dressed quite simply, because they live in a semi-tropical climate. The mother has a head veil, the father and the boy wear a sort of turban, flowing down to protect their necks from the sun.

For garments, they wear an innermost “sindon,” a sort of long shirt stretching to the knees. Over this is the tunic, ankle-length with slit skirt for facility in walking. A band of cloth at the waist gives the garment pleasing lines, and its appearance is helped even more by the striped reds and browns that are favourite colours.

Joseph wears a two-forked beard. Both Joseph and the boy Jesus have two long locks of hair, ringlets framing their faces on each side, to agree with the contemporary custom. Mary’s hair is made up in tresses.

They are eating their evening meal as we observe them. No silverware, not even wooden spoons are on the table. With their fingers they delicately sample the boiled mutton with its pottage seasoned with mint. Joseph hands Jesus and Mary cucumbers or pomegranates or clusters of raisins-all favourite dishes. They have two beverages available, goats” milk and wine, kept in goatskin “bottles”-actually, sewed skins-from which the drinks are poured.

Their house looks so poorly furnished, but for the times it represents the living quarters of a middle-class village artisan. Of stone block, with the outer room extending back into the hill as a cave, it is low, perhaps windowless, getting its light through the open doorway or from the flickering lamp whose wick rests in a saucer of olive oil. There is little furniture to be seen, except for the gaily-coloured mats folded along the wall. These will later be spread on the floor as night approaches, for beds as we know them are not the custom here.

The Three are barefoot, because they are at home. Their sandals are placed side by side at the doorway, ready for use outside the house . . .

What a picture to our Western eyes of the twentieth century! Yet this is the picture we get of the Holy Family, if we look at them as citizens of a Palestinian hamlet almost two thousand years ago. These were the customs of their times. The Gospels intimate how closely they followed those customs.

But one of the original objections to the imitability of the Holy Family still remains. How can Joseph and Mary be models for the Christian married couple who make use of their married rights according to the holy family vocation God has given them? How can the virginal marriage of Joseph and Mary be an ideal for Christian marriages in which the virtue of chastity is practised in a different way?

I think, by way of introduction, that we should first be certain we understand what is meant by copying a model or an ideal. No person is the same as any other. The same ideals can motivate them, but because of different personalities, different circumstances in their lives, and different vocations, they simply cannot practise an imitation that is reduced to aping a model in every detail.

In other words, no one can imitate anyone else exactly. All that can be done is to applyto one’s own particular life the motivation and the actions of one’s ideal. If application can be made, then an exemplar truly exists. If application cannot be made, then you have chosen for yourself an impossible model.

In the case of Joseph and Mary these same principles hold true. The special vocation of these two was that they should prepare for the coming of the Saviour into the world, and that they should rear Him to His manhood within the bonds and the love of a family life. It was also part of their vocation that their marriage was to be virginal. God Almighty chose to be born of a virgin mother in order that it would be easier for us to accept His divinity as Jesus Christ. It would have been much more difficult to make an act of faith in thegodhead of Jesus if He had had a natural human father. Mary’s body was reserved for Jesus.

Nonetheless, God Almighty also chose to be born of a virgin wife, to follow His own law that children should be conceived and born within wedlock. In this special case of the Holy Family, Jesus was to come into the world as the third member of a divinely constituted family in order that His reputation would be protected, but equally that He might be given the love, the protection, and the rearing that only family life can give to the child.

What is essential in every marriage is the spiritual oneness that must exist between husband and wife. They give themselves to each other in a union of wills, and this is called the marriage contract, whereby each belongs to each other in a community of life.

Joseph and Mary belonged to each other in marriage, too. Possessing marriage rights, although not using them because of their particular vocation, they thus became models for both the married and the virginal state. In each case, it is their love of God and their divinely founded love for each other that we respect and reverence.

For modern Christian couples who reverence God’s plan, who see in sex God’s plan to continue the human race and people heaven, who see in sex the symbolism of their love for each other, the virginal marriage of Joseph and Mary still remains as an example. After all, the proper use of sex within marriage takes on its full meaning only when it is animated by the spiritual oneness that should exist in every marriage. Love means giving, love means self-sacrifice, love means wishing well for the beloved. This spirit of love existed in the highest degree in the marriage of Joseph and Mary, and that is why the husband and wife of today can take these two as their ideals, and can imitate their spiritual oneness as the source of the happiness and security God intended should exist in every marriage.

At the beginning of this pamphlet I was telling you about the letter of Pope Leo XIII concerning the Holy Family. There could be no better conclusion than to select certain passages of the Pope’s heartfelt words, to show how what we have said here has been no more than an echo of the desire of holy Mother Church-that all of us, in every walk of life, in every age, might take Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, the Holy Family, as our particular guides. Suppose we emphasize the Pope’s words each time he mentions this universal leadership of the Holy Family.

“When God in His mercy decided to carry out the work of man’s redemption . . . He arranged to perform His task in such a way that in its beginnings it might show forth to the world the august spectacle of a divinely founded family. In this all men were to behold the perfect examplar of domestic society as well as of all virtue and holiness. . . . .

We cannot doubt that all the glories of domestic life, taking their origin in mutual charity, saintly character, and the exercise of piety, were without exception manifested in a superlative degree by the Holy Family as a pattern for all other families to imitate.

To this very end, a benign Providence had established the Holy Family in order that all Christians in whatever walk of life or situation might have a reason and an incentive to practise every virtue, provided they would fix their gaze on the Holy Family.

In Joseph, heads of the household are blessed with the unsurpassed model of fatherly watchfulness and care.

In the holy Virgin Mother of God, mothers possess an extraordinary ideal of love, modesty, submission, and perfect loyalty.

In Jesus, who was “subject to them,” children have before them the divine picture of obedience to admire, venerate, and copy . . .

Nothing in fact can be conceived more helpful or effective for Christian families than the example of the Holy Family, embracing as it does the perfection and fulfilment of all domestic virtues.

When thus invoked, may Jesus, Mary, and Joseph take their place in the family circle as its propitious patrons.

May they foster charity, mould character, and encourage the practice of virtue through imitation of their example.

By sweetening the burdens of this life which everywhere encompass us, may they render them more easy for us to bear . . .

Given at Rome at St. Peter’s under the seal of the Fisherman, June 14, 1892, the 15th year of Our Pontificate.”

LEO XIII

You can’t copy that family? What do you think? Try it and see. God be with you.

Nihil Obstat:

W. M. COLLINS, Diocesan Censor.

Imprimatur:

@ D. MANNIX,

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis.

********

I Could Not Stay . . . What I Was!

BY MRS ELEANOR EMMERSON

INDEX

FOREWORD

The factors which help a nonCatholic to find the true Faith are always many and varied. Mrs. Emmerson’s story is a typical example of how, under the grace of God, the sincere searcher can be helped step by step along the road to Faith by the variety of efforts that are being made by Australian Catholics to share their priceless gift of Faith with others. At one stage it is a chance meeting with a Catholic schoolgirl who lives her Faith; later it is the example of a sincere young Catholic couple; then a Catholic advertisement in a secular magazine, or a Catholic radio programme; finally the parish praesidium of the Legion of Mary bringing her into contact with the local priest. At every stage, she is impressed and encouraged, not by arguments, but by the living example of Catholics” charity and confidence in prayer.

Mrs. Emmerson tells the story of her conversion with a simplicity and humility that makes it a joy to read and an inspiration to the reader. Her search was a long and prayerful one. From our small share in it at the Catholic Enquiry Centre while she studied our course of lessons we have a file of more than fifty pages of personal correspondence closing with the good news that she and her husband and children had been received into the Church.

There are, in 1962, still more than 8,000,000 Australians who live without the Gift of Faith. Many of them are searching as Mrs. Emmerson searched. It is the highest form of charity to help them to find the True Faith. This simple and sincere story will encourage many to keep on searching. I am confident, too, that it will encourage many Catholics to be more sympathetic towards the problems of non-Catholics and to make a greater effort to share their Faith with those around them.

THOMAS A. WHITE Director, Catholic Enquiry Centre,

“I COULD NOT STAY WHAT I WAS”! BY ELEANOR EMMERSON

THERE have been hundreds of conversion stories written and no doubt, anyone who may read this has read at least a half a dozen of its kind and better, before now.

In spite of this, I feel I should write my story. Perhaps someday, someone might have similar difficulties, and God may wish to help that person through my experience.

My chief reason, however, is to say Thank You-Thank You first of all and most humbly to my Lord Jesus and His Blessed Mother, and then to the many good Catholics who have helped me find the peace I know today.

It is difficult to say when I first became impressed by the Catholic way of life. I had noticed the quiet ladylike behaviour of the Convent school girls, the seriousness with which young Catholics approached courtship, and the quiet faith Catholics showed in their whole attitude to life-and most especially in their troubled times.

I must admit that, in spite of all this, I had no desire to become a Catholic. I considered that the complicated Catholic services were a far cry from the teaching of the Carpenter of Nazareth-and I wasn’t the kind of person to blindly obey, as I believed Catholics did. I wanted to be able to ask questions and have them answered.

AN ADVERTISEMENT

It was just this inquisitiveness of mine that caused me to take a definite step towards the Catholic religion, although I did not realize that I was doing that at the time. An advertisement in an English magazine offered to explain the Catholic religion-FREE! I couldn’t resist it!

When the English Enquiry Centre put me in contact with the Australian Enquiry Centre, I began to hesitate. They promised that all enquiries would be confidential and that no representative of theirs would call. I doubted that they would keep their word (such was the distrust I had been taught to have of Catholics-especially Catholic priests) but my inquisitiveness overruled my caution and I began to receive their course of lessons. (Of course, they DID keep their word!)

FIRST LESSONS

The first lessons were certainly not what I had expected. My previous thoughts had been that the Catholic Church was the “Church of the Pope.” These lessons made me realize that Catholics put Jesus at the head of their church as do all sincere Christians. The Pope is the earthly head of the Catholic Church and he claims to be nothing more than this.

The first two lessons urged me to pray-they suggested the prayers I should use and because I had not prayed for years-I used their prayers.

When the lessons began to explain the Catholic attitude to the Bible-I began to be genuinely impressed. The Catholic Church can undoubtedly trace itself right back to the time Our Lord said to St. Peter-”On this rock, I will build my Church.” (N.B. He did not say Churches, see Matthew 16:18.) This same St. Peter was the first Pope, and the Catholic Church can trace her line of Popes from that time. Every Christian Church (and there are about 500, I believe) accepts the Bible as the God-inspired writings-but the Catholic Church was the only one in existence at the time these writings were sorted out from the uninspired writings-every Church that accepts the Bible as inspired accepts it on the authority of the Catholic Church. I had also been taught that Catholics were not allowed to read the Bible-this of course is not true-far from not being allowed to read the Bible-Catholics are encouraged to do so.

I have always prided myself in being fair, so in my next letter to Father White, director of the Enquiry Centre, I admitted that the Catholic Church was the one-and only-Church started by Jesus. I hastened to add, however, that I had no intention of becoming a Catholic.

Father White replied that there was no need for me to make any quick decisions, but if I truly believed that Jesus had built a Church, and that that Church was the Catholic Church, then I had a duty to God to become a member of His Church.

A good many people claim that the Catholic Church has erred. Either I had to accept the fact that Christ had not enough power to sustain His Own Church against error-that man had to do that for Him (I didn’t dare think which of the many founders of religions had actually corrected the error!), or else I had to become a Catholic.

It was nearly two years before I made my decision.

GROWING INTEREST

From that time, my study of the Catholic religion was of necessity a serious one. I could no longer have that detached interest in what Catholics believe-I had to discover what I should believe.

As is natural, I looked for extra sources of learning than the Enquiry Centre. Among these I discovered two radio programmes-a broadcast of the Novena and Father Cronin’s “Catholic Session.”

This was when my husband first took an interest in religion-any religion. We began to look forward to these programmes-we began to say: “Don’t these programmes give you a good feeling to start the week?”

I started to pray more earnestly. Whenever I was too worried to sleep (which was often at that time) I would say the Hail Mary over and over again. Father Cronin spoke on his Catholic Session about the Miraculous Medal. My husband and I started wearing them.

I waited anxiously for each week’s lesson from the Enquiry Centre. My objections were answered one by one. Everything about the Catholic religion had a reason-most of it could be backed up from my own Bible, or from the commonest of common sense.

I had accepted the fact that the Catholic Church was the One True Church-but I still thought that I, personally, could never become a Catholic. I studied the causes of the Reformation. True-there were many unworthy Catholics at that time (even among the clergy), but the doctrine of the Church remained the same as it had been since Jesus had taught it to the twelve Apostles. I sought out and read anti-Catholic literature. Most of it was so obviously inaccurate as to be quite stupid. None of it stood up to close investigation.

I received my final lesson from the Enquiry Centre and I replied to the final questionnaire. I told Father White exactly how I felt-how one day I was sure I should be a Catholic; how the next day I was full of doubts again. I expected him to send a very forceful reply-I rather hoped he would-I wanted someone to give me that extra push-someone who would make that final decision for me.

Of course, he didn’t do that. He urged me to keep on praying and assured me that God would answer my prayers. Catholics have such a strong faithin God that they have no need to “sales-talk” anyone into a decision.

They claim that the gift of Faith is a gift of God. They will explain their religion to you, answer your questions, pray for you-but the gift of Faith they leave to God to give-and you to accept.

CONTACT WITH CATHOLICS

All of this time, my husband and I had been wearing the Miraculous Medal at various intervals. Someone from the local Church had seen it, supposed that I was a Catholic, told the priest who sent two ladies from the Legion of Mary to visit me.

We have become used to people coming into our home trying to convert us to their own personal beliefs but these ladies were quite different. They didn’t preach-instead they answered my questions, told me to send for them if ever I needed help, talked about their own families and in general offered me their friendship and promised to call and see me again soon.

I decided to go up and see the local Church for myself-I looked around very carefully so that no one would see me- then slipped inside. I wanted to see what a Catholic Church looked like, and I admit that the last thing I thought about doing was praying, but in the atmosphere of that Church I had to go down on my knees.

I mentioned this feeling to the ladies from the Legion of Mary when next they came. They told me that it was the Real Presence of Christ that gave that atmosphere. They explained that the Real Presence was the reason Catholics cross themselves with Holy Water, and genuflect on entering and leaving the Church. It is also the reason why Catholics so often slip into the Church through the day to say a little prayer.

I had, of course, studied and accepted the Catholic teaching on this, but I was quite unprepared to feel the atmosphere. This incident taught me that the Catholic faith, is not merely a form of worship, although I believed Catholics practised the correct form of worship. The Catholic Faith is Christ Himself, and through Holy Communion, every practising Catholic is a part of the living body of Christ. Now I realized where Catholics gain their strength.

DIFFICULTIES ARISE

I also knew that I should become a Catholic, and believe me it was an uncomfortable feeling. There were rules that I must obey as a Catholic that were completely opposite to my own personal desires.

The Church to which I belonged at that time taught that as long as you love Jesus, you cannot go wrong-yet here was I-accepting the Catholic teaching that birth prevention was morally wrong-and at the same time feeling that it was equally wrong to have more children than I could manage.

This problem bothered me for months. I wished that I could forget all about the Catholic religion-but I knew that if I did, I would be turning my back on Jesus and could no longer even claim that I loved Him.

Still the Catholics did no more than assure me of their prayers. Their complete faith in prayer is something that has to be seen to be believed. One Legion of Mary lady asked me if I was praying, and when I said yes, asked: “But, have you prayed to Our Lady?” I came straight home and wrote all my muddled thoughts and problems down and sent it to the Novena of Our Lady of Perpetual Succour at the Redemptorist Fathers” Monastery in Mayfield, N.S.W.

I spoke to no one on the subject over the next fortnight, but my thinking completely changed. I recognized my children as gifts from God and for the first time I thanked Him for those gifts. I realized that the methods of birth prevention that we were using were a direct insult to God. It was like saying: “Yes, God, I will accept Your gifts, but I will not accept Your assurance that You will care for us, even as the lilies of the field. I will not trust You to know how many children we should have, and I will not trust You to care for us, and those children that You give us.”

I began to look around at the Catholic families that I knew-both the large and the small. Many were not rich but all had the necessities of love, adequate clothing, food, dwelling and education.

A week later, my husband and I went to a “Day of Enquiry.” Up till this time, I had always thought that-if I became a Catholic-I would be the only one in the family. However, that night when we were discussing the day, my husband said: “Eleanor, do you really want to be a Catholic?”

“Yes, I do.”

“So do I,” he said.

Our Lady had answered my petition in a very wonderful way.

Now at last I could contact the local priest and ask to be given instructions in the Catholic Faith. It took me a full day to pluck up the courage.

When Father called, my courage went floating out of the window again, but it did not take long for us all to feel at ease with each other. Father spoke about Jesus as if it were the most natural thing in the world to do. One of the first things I noticed about a priest (and this applies to them all) is, that-in spite of the fact that they are so very easy to talk to-I have never felt half as much respect for any other minister of religion. (I do have the greatest of admiration for the sincerity of some non-Catholic ministers). You can speak to a priest as a friend and a few minutes later kneel before him and beg him to forgive you your sins without feeling embarrassed on either occasion. It sounds impossible but the Sacrament of Holy Orders does make all that difference. Naturally, as they, and we, are only human, there will be occasions when we find ourselves unable to like the man who is a priest-but we can always respect the priest.

I WENT TO THE PRIEST

Then followed months of weekly instructions. There was no “back to school” atmosphere-it was just a series of friendly helpful talks. We always felt free to say: “But, Father, I don’t understand that,” or even in some cases: “But, Father, I can’t believe that.” No amount of explaining was too much trouble.

FINAL STEP: RECEPTION

Then came the time for our reception into the Church. To my husband and me it was something for which we longed. Already we had been trying to live the life of a Catholic without the help of the Sacraments and were much happier for it. Now we were to receive the graces of the Sacraments.

Our reception consisted of three things. We knelt at the altar rail and with our right hand on the Gospels we made a short and simple declaration of faith, then followed our (Conditional) Baptism and for the first time we received the Sacrament of Penance. (There had been considerable uncertainty if we had ever been correctly baptized, or even baptized at all, when we were children which is why we were “conditionally” baptized into the church and then went on to ensure all our sins were removed by the Sacrament of Penance or Reconciliation.)

Before I started to study the Catholic religion, I had a lot of strange ideas about Confession. (Incidentally, Christ’s command that we confess to a priest can be read in any Bible. See John 20:22–23, and 2 Cor 5:18) For instance I thought it consisted entirely of telling the priest your sins-which was good for humility but not much else. Confession means so very much more than this. Firstly you have to be really sorry and intend to make an effort not to sin again. If you are not sorry and do not intend to try to avoid sin, then you might as well stay at home. Once in the Confessional the priest blesses you then follows the actual confession of your sins-usually the priest has a little talk to you about your difficulties and gives some advice. Then he gives absolution while you are saying a prayer telling God how very sorry you are for your sins. After you leave the Confessional you say the prayer that the priest has given you as a penance. There is, of course, no money involved. We are certainly not asked to pay 3d per sin as a non-Catholic asked me after I had made my first confession.

There is a great deal more to be learnt about Confession, but I mention these points only to show that confession is sincere and of the most wonderful value to the soul of the penitent.

When I made my first confession-I had to admit to many wasted and wicked years. I wanted to forget them altogether and although my confessor was very kind and very helpful-my confession was like an infection that had to be lanced-it was essential to the healing but at the. time it did hurt.

I didn’t sleep that night. I didn’t feel forgiven. I thought over my confession again and again. I was sorry, oh, how very sorry for all of my sins. My husband said: “Doesn’t it feel wonderful to have made your confession and have a really fresh start again?” To my husband, I said: “Yes,” but to God I prayed: “What is the matter with me, why don’t I feel any better, why don’t I have that walking on air feeling that every other convert has-surely I have not spent two years making the wrong decision?”

FIRST COMMUNION

Arrangements had been made for us to be confirmed the following Sunday night so I had to take my first Holy Communion on Sunday Morning. Oh, how I meant it when I said: “Lord, I am not worthy!” I had never felt more guilty in all my life!

As I walked to the altar rail, I had to force myself to forget my own problems and think of Jesus. It was only after Jesus, really and truly present in the bread-came to me that I knew I had made the right decision after all.

I don’t know what caused the difficulty with my first confession. Perhaps God was teaching me that it isn’t always possible to feel “good,” but it is essential to keep persevering. Perhaps it was to show me that I could never be really free unless I became a living part of Him as in Communion. Perhaps it was just a reaction to nervousness. I know that since I have been able to overcome this nervousness, I have found confession a really great comfort. Each time it is as if the vision of Christ that I have blurred up with my sins has been cleared once more. Holy Communion becomes an even greater source of comfort and strength every time I am privileged to take it.

GOD FOUNDED THIS CHURCH

Before I became a Catholic, I believed that as long as you love Jesus, you cannot go wrong. I haven’t altered my belief in that respect. However, now I realize that to love Jesus-I must also love, support and be a member of the Church He founded (in preference to loving one founded by a man however sincere he might have been). I must love and trust His Mother-I must try to the best of my ability and with the help of the grace He Himself gives, to obey the rules of good moral behaviour and the rules of His Church.

CONVICTION, NOT FEAR

I am not blindly obedient-Catholics are given every help and encouragement to learn about every aspect of their religion. I understand why the various Church rules exist, and I obey or try to obey as a child obeys a loving and understanding father. The Catholic services, now that I understand them, are simple yet dignified and inspiring.

I am not ruled by fear of Hell or Purgatory. (Incidentally, I am not asked to pay my way out of either of these places as non-Catholic friends warned me that I would have to do.) I believe that they exist, but I do not fear them as much as I fear hurting and insulting Jesus. He has suffered so much for us already, and I know that every time I do the wrong thing-He suffers even more.

I pray particularly every day for those, who have come to the stage of knowing that the Catholic Faith is the One True Faith and yet are unwilling or unable to accept. I know how hard the practice of the Catholic religion is to someone on the outside looking in-and as a Convert I do not always find it easy to live by. I also know that this sense of peace and freedom that I have, is worth a hundred times more effort than I am asked to put into it. All that Jesus asks is that we try- that no matter how many times and how badly we fail-we tell Him we are sorry, and we get up and we try again. He understands-oh, how much He understands.

There are many and varied paths that lead to the Catholic faith-My husband and I travelled completely different ways, so much so, that for most of the time we did not even realize we were headed for the same decision, but we both agree, as does every other convert, that it was the wisest and happiest decision we have ever made.

********

I Don’t Like Lent

BY DANIEL A. LORD, S.J

INDEX

THEY wandered leisurely out of the dining room and took their places around the logs that burned on the large livingroom hearth. A maid appeared, bearing a tray loaded with coffee cups and the essentials for the brewing of coffee, and with a tall brandy bottle and the necessary small glasses. The guests had found comfortable chairs and dropped into them with the realization that the chairs were very, very comfortable indeed before the Bradleys” open fire.

Most of the guests took coffee. Their host filled a small glass with brandy until another drop would have meant an overflow, and then lifted it appreciatively in the direction of Father Hall.

“Better have a brandy,” he suggested. “Lent starts Wednesday.”

The priest looked up with a quizzical smile.

“Thanks, I prefer the coffee. But what’s Lent got to do with brandy? Don’t you remember the old saw: “Thank God for the Council of Trent that legislated about food but not about drink?”

“I HATE LENT”

They all laughed. But Grace Melville, young and charming, and only a few years older than the Bradley twins (both out for the evening), glowered into the fire.

“I don’t like Lent,” she said, quite savagely. They all looked at her for a moment, and then the priest heard them sigh in unison.

“Thanks for the honesty,” said Mrs. Bradley. “Since we’re playing truth, I hate Lent.”

“Never liked it until I got beyond the age when it has to be observed,” old Mrs. Harrison agreed, in her high, but emphatic voice. “Now I love it. I love to see you young people groaning about it. I love to have my little snack between meals and my meat three times a day, white you pick the bones out of herring and grow ravenous about ten o‘clock in the evening.”

NOT BOUND

“Not being a Catholic, I don’t much mind it,” smiled Dr. Allenby, nodding companionably to youngish Shirley Green, who was of his same lack of faith.

“Lucky dog,” growled their host.

For a moment Father Hall felt personally responsible for Lent. He had the sudden impression that they all thought he had started the business of the fortyday fast. Really, he assured himself rapidly, he hadn’t. It was one of those things that he had inherited from the pretty early days of Christianity.

NOT GUILTY

“Honestly,” he said, “I”m not responsible for Lent.”

His hostess looked properly embarrassed. He had phoned from the library, where he had spent the day grubbing up some local colour he needed for the novel he was writing, and she had begged him to join them at dinner. Though he was all set to motor back to his Lakeside parish and had called up only to get some first-hand information on the beloved twins, Dick and Sue, he had thought for a moment and then consented. And now she saw him being pushed into a corner by the thoughtless remarks of herself and her friends.

“Oh, no,” she said hurriedly. “We know you’d never have thought up anything so disagreeable as Lent” The priest assumed a very solemn look.

“And maybe that’s just where you are wrong. Maybe if I had the doing of it, I”d have put in two Lents a year, one in winter for the good of your souls, and one in summer for the good of your bodies. The fact is, I thoroughly approve of Lent. I think it’s a noble institution.”

SURVIVAL

“Really now!” exclaimed Dr. Allenby. As pro fessor of history in State University, he was always interested in the recurrence of these mediaeval ideas among his Catholic acquaintances.

He thought them distinctly interesting.

“I don’t see in any case,” went on the priest, “what you are worrying about. Do any of you really fast?”

“Well,” Bradley coughed, “I give up cigars.”

“Which certainly puts the rest of the family in a penitential mood,” his wife added.

I”m a hard-working man,” Bradley said, apologising, “and I need my food.”

“Hard-working!” scoffed his wife. “While you’re out on the golf-links making important contacts, who does the work in your office? That poor little secretary of yours, Nell Sullivan. And I”11 bet she fasts, too.”

NATURAL FASTS

“As far as I can make out,” the priest said, looking at Grace Melville, who had started all this, “practically every girl I”ve heard of fasts all the year round-except for the nibbles between meals. I”11 wager that Miss Melville here, or your own secretary, eats a slice of toast and tosses off a cup of coffee for breakfast, lunches on a nourishing lettuce sandwich or a shrimp salad, and eats at most one meal a day. That is, I”m told by competent authorities the ordinary diet of the modern young lady.”

Dr. Allenby nodded in agreement

“I wish the young ladies who came to my morning classes looking pale and haggard would once in a while eat a decent breakfast.”

MEDIEVAL

“That’s quite a different thing.” Shirley Green took up the cudgels. “Lent always seems to me so-well, so medieval. Isn’t that what you think?” Dr. Allenby nodded. The young lady was intelligent. He wished she were in his history class. She seemed to readhis mind. “It makes me think of the ancient days when it wasn’t quite holy to take a bath, and when men went off into the desert, and spent the rest of their lives on top of a stone column. It’s not, well, it’s not modern.”

“Modern or not,” repeated Grace, “I don’t like Lent. I”m embarrassed if I go to a movie. I feel that I shouldn’t play bridge. If the dessert in good, I have an instinct that I ought to give it up. It’s a most uncomfortable time.”

GIVE IT UP

“Honestly, Father,” asked Mrs. Bradley in all sincerity, “don’t you think that the Church will give up Lent one of these days?”

They all looked at the priest with real interest. Most of the group knew him little. As he was a priest, the non-Catholics among them rather expected him to rise indignantly and cry out, “The Church never changes!” They looked forward a little shrinkingly to some sort of “scene.” Instead, Father Hall gazed thoughtfully into the fire and answered with some hesitation.

“The Church may at that. Of course, it can. And on occasion it has done so. It abolished Lent for the Spaniards, to thank them for their successful crusades against the Mohammedans. The Bishop of Louisville, after the floods there, cancelled Lent with a stroke of his pen; the people could eat meat even on Friday. Lent’s not a matter of faith or morals. I suppose it’s really dearest to the heart of the Church because it recalls the forty days” fast of Christ. “After all,” the Church argues, “if Christ, who was without sin, fasted completely from food for forty days, we who are sinners should be willing to give a pale and incomplete imitation of His perfect fast by observing Lent!”

JUST SENTIMENT DR. ALLENBY LOOKED AT MISS GREEN WITH A FLASH OF UNDERSTANDING. “OH,” SAID MISS GREEN, CATCHING HIS MEANING, “IF LENT IS JUST A MATTER OF SENTIMENT-”

“One really,” agreed the professor, “mustn’t argue with sentiment.”

And they sat back to their coffee, the argument completed.

“I”m awfully dumb,” said Grace, glad that she could round off the discussion she had started by picking on a harmless point, “but it’s just dawning on me that our Lent lasts forty days because of Christ’s forty-days” fast. It is a lovely sentiment.”

But now Father Hall was alert.

UNLESS

“Sentiment!” Oh, the forty days are selected as a matter of sentiment. But fasting has nothing to do with sentiment, believe me. Christ was no sentimentalist. The Church remembers what He said with flat emphasis. “Unless you do pen- ance you shall all likewise perish.” The choice was clear: Do penance or be eternally lost.

“Now, the fact is that most people need some one else to force them to do difficult things. Children have to be dragooned into eating spinach. Did you ever see a nurse forcing a strong man to take medicine that he disliked? And a trainer has to run along with a pugilist in training to be sure that his charge doesn’t stop his roadwork and start picking daisies in the first cool spot.

““Do penance!” cried Christ. “I don’t want to,” says man. “Or perish,” said Christ. “Well, one of those days I”11 get around to it,” says the man. So the Church wisely steps in and says, “All right, children; just to simplify the whole thing, you do penance for forty days during Lent, and that will cover a largesection of your responsibility. Let’s all together, the whole world of us Christian men and women, get this business of penance done and off our minds.” Simple?”

WHY PENANCE?

Shirley Green shook her head.

“Frankly, it’s not. Why should we do penance? I see no purpose in that at all. Sounds sort of Hindufakirish.” “It’s connected,” explained Dr. Allenby, in an aside that was, of course, loud enough for the entire group, “with the other medieval concept of sin.”

Father Hall shook his head.

“Oh, no, doctor. With the universal concept of sin. Sin is a crime against God, and crime must be punished. Sin is an insult to our heavenly Father, and you have to amend an insult with an apology. Sin is an act by which the will turns from its Creator to a creature,and that will has to be straightened out, put back into its right direction.”

Shirley’s young and wrinkleless brow grew deliberately furrowed.

“But penance-”

NATURAL

“Penance,” said the priest, “Is simply a matter of readjustment. Says the criminal, the sinner: “My sin is going to be justly punished either in this world or in hell or purgatory. But I wonder if God would not be more likely to forgive me my crime if I punished myself just to prove that I”m sorry and admit I rate punishment.” So he does penance as a proof that he is sorry and to forestall God’s punishment. “I”ve insulted my Father,” says the sinner. “I”11 prove that I”m feeling deeply apologetic by doing something hard for Him.”

“So he does something hard, a penance. “By sin,” reasons the sinner, “I turned my will away from God and grabbed this creature. All right. To prove that I know I made a mistake, I”11 turn away from this creature-food, drink, a good time, the theatre, candy-and turn deliberately to God. God will see that I am trying to get my will straight in line once more.” That’s all it is, this penance. Sounds very logical to me.”

IF SIN EXISTS

“Logical, of course,” said Dr. Allenby, “if you accept the assumption that there is such a thing as sin.” “An assumption,” smiled Father Hall, “that the world finds very difficult to escape. We won’t go into that right now, but penance is so natural that when a man is sorry for a crime, he will give himself up to the punishment of the law; when a man has offended a friend, he goes out of his way to do something hard for him; when a man finds his will leading him into evil paths, he takes stern will exercises to force that will back into right lines. Just a matter of common sense, that’s all.”

Dr. Allenby was a little piqued. He brushed his face with an immaculate linen handkerchief before he said, in the most elaborately off-hand way:

LOVE MATTERS

“Of course, if your God is so tremendous and infinite, and we as His creatures are so small and insignificant, I really don’t see what difference our giving up of things like candy or coffee or cigars or a night at the movies can possibly make to Him.”

Mrs. Bradley admitted in her heart that, as the professor put it, the idea of giving up an ice-cream soda for an infinite God looked just a little absurd.

“Your difficulty,” replied the priest, “is, of course, based on the supposition that God is not our Loving Father who is enormously interested in His children. What is little when love is concerned? I”ve seen a mother bursting with love when a child brought her the most ridiculous mess of paper and chalk with the proud “I made this to give to you, mother.” I recall seeing a father, who is not so terribly far from us, wearing in his buttonhole a withered dandelion. You see, his baby daughter picked it for him and toddled over and put it into his lapel. I think he preferred that to a gardenia. Wouldn’t you, my good and blushing friend?”

And, truth to tell, the whole group could see that the red in Pere Bradley’s cheek was not due to the sudden warmth of the hearth logs.

SACRIFICE

“You must remember, professor,” Father Hall continued, “that one of the sweetest ways in which we can show our love for a person is with gifts. We always say, “It isn’t the value of the gift; it’s the spirit of the giver that matters.” That’s why trifles wrapped round with love are much more precious than tiaras or mink coats given lovelessly.

“The giving of a gift to God is all we mean by sacrifice. In the Old Law the Jews gave Him cattle and b read and wine. We Catholics give Him His divine Son in the Mass. But we want to give Him something that we would personally like for ourselves. So we sacrifice cigars or wine or candy or the movies. We say, “0 God, I”11 give them up just to show that I do love You.” And the harder we find it to give them up, the more precious they will be to our Father.

“It’s perfectly true that God is made no hap pier by our giving Him a chocolate malted milk or a stick of chewing gum or a highball. God isn’t likely to find use for any of those things. But it means a lot that we, His children, want to give Him the things we fain would hug to our own selfish hearts. We give Him what we somehow very much want.

“We don’t say, “Dear God, during Lent for Your sake I am going to give up anchovies for breakfast.” Anchovies for breakfast would give us a pretty bad thirst all through the day. Instead, we say, “I”m going to give You these cigars, which are pretty necessary to my happiness, or this cold drink in the afternoon, which has come to be rather essential to me.” We give it to God precisely because it would make us happy to have it ourselves.”

MANICHEANS

The professor was unimpressed and unconvinced.

“There is,” he said, “a certain strain of the Manichean about even the best of Catholics.

Don’t be offended, Father; but it astonishes me to see how heresies triumph even over the Church that condemns them.”

Old Mrs. Harrison roused herself indignantly. “I wish,” she sniffed, with the privilege of the old to insult the younger, “that professors wouldn’t be pedants. Why must they drag in long and technical terms?” She faced the professor, her feathers ruffled.”What kind of a strain is that?”

“Manichean,” smiled Dr. Allenby. “They were a group of heretical Christians who thought that everything you could see or taste or feel was bad. In fact, the devil made all the visible world, God made only the spiritual world. So the good Christian must despise everything he could see or taste or feel. A good dinner was essentially evil. A beautiful landscape was positively naughty. Good music was wicked. And the higher the saint, the more he went around, like the monkeys in the famous monkey trio, holding his ears, shutting his eyes, clapping a hand down over his mouth. A good Christian gave up everything pleasant. And you see, that’s just what is back of Lent. The world is pleasant. Therefore, it must be wicked. Because it is wicked, let’s give it up, at least for Lent.”

BUNCHED

“The Puritans must have been Manicheans,” suggested Grace Melville.

“They were,” agreed Dr. Allenby. “It was wicked to be happy. It was a sin to have a good time.” “Well,” boomed Bradley, waving his brandy meditatively back and forth in front of his nostrils, “that explains those infernal old Prohibi tionists. May their ghosts never walk!”

“And it explains people like the Hindu fakirs,” supplemented Shirley Green, “and Buddhist monks and those greasy old fathers of the desert who never took a bath and lived on bean soup and black bread dipped in water. They disliked the world because it was beautiful. Isn’t it sad that they thought the devil responsible for all the beautiful things of the world?”

TOO SIMPLE

They all looked properly distressed. All except Father Hall, who laughed aloud.

“Of all the easy things in the world, and the false ones, I know nothing compared to linking together Hindu fakirs and

Prohibitionists and saints and Puritans and fathers of the desert all in one sentence.”

“But they belong there,” cried the professor almost angrily. “They all hated the world because it was beautiful. They were all convinced that the visible world, the things that delight the eyes and ears and palate, were of the devil and essentially bad.”

“Not the saints and fathers of the desert,” said the priest.

“Well, didn’t they go around preaching penance? Didn’t they have Lents of seventy days instead of forty? Didn’t they get excited and scared out of their wits when they saw people having a good time? Look at Savanarola.” “A great man, but not a saint,” interrupted the priest.

“They were beauty haters. And their spirit still rules over your Christian Lent.”

Dr. Allenby was quite angry, and he said that in no mere conversational tone.

Mrs. Bradley gathered herself to spring conversationally into the ring and separate the two contestants. But she was not as quick as the priest. To her relief, though, his voice was pleasantly calm and his manner totally unruffled.

BEAUTY LOVERS

“Again, I say, not Catholic saints, not fathers of the desert. The precise point missed by people who failed to understand the saints in this: Saints, perhaps more than other men in the world, understood beauty. They were the great lovers of beauty. They thought the world was all so marvellous that only God deserved to have it for His own.”

“Bosh!” said Dr. Allenby, rudely. And then he had the good grace to laugh at himself. “Sorry, Father. I”ve been terribly rude. But really, I haven’t your gift of playing with words. I”m not a Jesuit.”

“Neither am I,” said Father Hall, “and believe me, I”m not playing with words at all. I”m playing with hard facts back of a human phenomenon. I”m talking about the very thing that makes the Christian ascetic-whether a hermit in the desert or a shopgirl giving up a strawberry sundae at noon, or a nun keeping silence from twelve to three o‘clock on Good Friday, or a business man refusing to put salt in his soup, though a dash of salt would vastly improve it- different from all the others you talked about. To the Christian, the world is too, too beautiful. It isn’t evil. It’s lovely. That is why one has to be careful what one does with it.”

A WORTHY GIFT

“I don’t understand you at all,” said Shirley Green.

“Too deep for me, and I”m supposed to be a Catholic,” chimed in Grace Melville, feeling that the priest was talking just a little like the ghost of Chesterton.

He saw he had to explain.

“In the first place, remember that a Christian does not merely renounce unless the thing is wrong or a matter of sin. He renounces in the sense of giving to God. Now, nobody would insult a friend by giving him something that he thought was evil or ugly or that he himself didn’t like. A lover doesn’t walk up to his ladylove and say, “Of course, I know this is a bunch of milkweed, and nettles; but because the horrible bouquet is so hideous, I am giving it to you.” That’s not a gift or a sacrifice; that’s an insult. A man doesn’t say to his friend: “Here, you take this steak I ordered. The darn thing is tainted and, anyhow, I don’t like steak.” “Here’s my dog. It’s got a vicious temper; I suspect it’s infected with rabies, and it will probably bite you and the children; but please accept it with my compliments.”

“So the Christian wouldn’t offer Go d the sacrifice of something which he regarded as ugly or vicious or worthless or belonging to the devil. No; the Christian ascetic renounces because he realises that the world is so glorious that only God can rightly wear its jewels upon His hand; only God can rightly enjoy the world’s great music; only God who painted the great landscapes of earth can properly appreciate them.”

TOO LOVELY

“Frankly,” said Grace, recurring once more to that unpleasant word, “I can’t but feel that it is a little daft.” “To want to give the God you love the loveliest things in the world? That is what a man wants to do to the woman he loves. That is what a mother does for her child. But we are not through; no, not quite yet. There’s another aspect.” They all sat looking at the priest intently. He was being very casual about it all, but very emphatic. “The Christian who gives up the beautiful thing is likely to be proving conclusively that he entertains the highest appreciation for them and the keenest knowledge both of the things and of himself.”

“That,” said Dr. Allenby, with a touch of irony, “is undoubtedly an amazing statement.”

PANEGYRIC

“Then let me paraphrase the process that lies back of Christian penance and renunciation. Says the saint: “0 Lord, if anything, you made the world too beautiful. It is too compellingly sweet. It is too filled with beautiful music and lovely landscapes and charming people and the sound of laughter and the glittering of jewels and strength and grace and power. Friendship is almost too sweet. Music is too enthralling. Jewels are too fascinating. Wealth is too powerful. Eloquence is too persuasive. Food is so varied and delicious that I find myself inclined to be a glutton. There is too much of warmth and fire in wine,”

“He sums up the world in a kind of ecstatic panegyric.

BUT MEN

“Then he turns to history, and he sees clearly that, because the world is so glorious and beautiful, men have made it their god. They have found the world so lovely that they did not need, they thought, to go the step further and find its Creator. Worse, they became so enraptured with it that they committed all sorts of crimes in order to claim it for themselves. They murdered the man who stood between them and the jewel that fascinated them. They lusted after the woman whose face and figure enthralled them. They robbed others, grew frightfully selfish, clung to perishable and destructive objects out of their complete absorption in the visible world.

“The trouble with the world was not that it was ugly, but that it was so terribly beautiful and so overwhelmingly fascinating that it made men forget everything else and sell their souls and their honour and time and eternity to possess even some small portion of it.

UNTRUSTWORTHY

“Logically, the Christian went the next step. He said to himself: “I wonder how far I can trust myself with this beautiful world? Am I sure that I won’t become greedy and selfish, too? Will I some day be willing to steep my hands in blood or my body in lust to get possession of one of those lovely things? Am I trustworthy enough to be let loose in this glorious treasure house that God has made?”

“Being shrewdly honest about himself, his answer was no. He distrusted himself, first be cause he had seen stronger men and women than himself go astray, misled by the beauty that fills the world, and made weak by the compelling attraction of God’s beautiful creatures; and then because he feels he is personally neither strong nor trustworthy. He is a little like a child turned loose in a candy shop, apt to gorge himself to violent sickness. He is somewhat like a man with an inclination to kleptomania left alone in an unguarded jewellery shop. He is a chap with sticky fingers suddenly back of the cashier’s window. He isn’t sure of himself. He knows the world is gloriously beautiful. But he is afraid that he is pitifully weak.

“Perhaps the only thing in God’s creation that the saint really condemns is himself. Certainly his attitude is that he is the one weak thing in all God’s glorious world. It is consequently his business to see that he learns to master himself.

SCHOOLING ONESELF

“So he schools himself not to gorge, by giving up even legitimate sweets. He masters his inclination to steal, by refusing to accept even what he is allowed to touch. He makes himself trustworthy, by learning to restrain his hands and steel his will. He gives up and renounces, he fasts and does penance, not in a spirit of contempt of God’s creation, but in a spirit of self-distrust.

“Personally, I can’t but feel he is a fairly wise and logical person. He is paying a tremendous complimen t to the world God has made; and he is training his will so that the beauty of the world, which has misled so many, won’t ever make of him a murderer, a thief, an adulterer, a man of dishonesty or greed or lust.”

Father Hall paused. Then he smiled and spread his hands in a kind of embarrassed gesture.

“That’s all. But don’t you think that makes the saint very much different from any of the other so-called ascetics of the world.”

INTERRUPTION

Mrs. Harrison roused herself again.

“What’s this,” she demanded, “got to do with Lent? I”m no father of the desert.”

“You’re a dear grandmother, and we’re so glad that you are in our living room,” smiled Mrs. Bradley. But the old lady declined to be flattered.

“We start on Lent and then we go to Manicheans and we end up being fathers of the desert. I wish people nowadays could carry on a conversation without straying over the whole inhabited earth. What’s the connection?”

SELF-TRAINING

“Tell her, Father,” said Bradley, taking a penultimate sip of his brandy.

“Only this, Mrs. Harrison, that during Lent we imitate the saints just a little. We train ourselves to give up the good things of the world just to prove that we can. Good things have a way of mastering us. Good living and good food and good drink, riches and comfort and amusements, have a way of making men slaves. God meant us to enjoy them. He never meant them to be a substitute for Himself. Nor did He mean them to make us so weakly greedy that we would do anything, even commit sin, rather than be without them.

“ Lent comes, and we give up some of our good food, some of our good times, some of our leisure and recreation, just to prove that we can be trusted. We master them for a few brief weeks so that they may not master us for life. We give up voluntarily so that we may not be held slaves. We lay aside deliberately, so that we may resume those lovely gifts of God, not because we are slaves of habit, but of our own free will. We give up our glass of brandy so that drink may never hold us captive. We give up the theatre so that we may not be slaves of a good time. We abstain from food, not merely because we want to prove that we are masters even of what we eat and drink, but because we want to test our wills.

“If we can’t give up a steak, are we sure we could give up some powerful temptation? If we can’t conquer our appetite for a big luncheon, could we be trusted to conquer our appetite for some forbidden person? If we can’t get along without an egg for breakfast, are we sure we could hold back our hand from a jewel which we could take and no one be the wiser? Lent is a time when we prove ourselves trustworthy. More than that; if Lent is well carried through, it is a time when we make ourselves trustworthy.

JUST FOR GOD?

“Do you see the connection, Mrs. Harrison?”

But Mrs. Harrison’s rumble in her throat may have been an indication of assent or a sign that she had long since ceased to regard the whole business as of any importance.

Miss Green was off on another tack.

“Then ultimately this whole matter of Lenten observance is for the sake of God. We want to give God something; is that it? We are keen to prove to Him that we are sufficiently trustworthy to be left as night-watchmen, so to speak, in His treasure house. Wewon’t steal-see? We have taught ourselves not even to take our salary. We won’t gorge ourselves. Watch, I can say no when I”m passed a chicken sandwich, even though it’s twenty-four hours since my last meal. It’s all a matter of impressing God.”

Grace Melville secretly admired Shirley Green. She was known to be a young woman who was making a name for herself in the advertising world. She was a graduate of a swank Eastern college, and already was earning more than many a bank’s first vice-president; and she had a suave scepticism about her that amused Grace. Sometimes Grace told herself that as a Catholic she ought to resent Shirley’s acid comments, Perversely, she found herself silently and secretly cheering them on.

ANOTHER LIFE

Father Hall felt that he had missed something. He really thought that he had been stressing the good that renunciation did to a man’s character and will. Evidently he hadn’t. He tried a new angle.

“Did you ever hear of the supernatural life?”

“No,” replied Shirley and Dr. Allenby.

“Yes,” simultaneously replied the rest.

“I”m sure you have,” said Father Hall, “though the words may sound unfamiliar.” He paused, groping for new words. “Besides a body, we have a soul, that lives an existence of its own, and is destined for an eternal existence beyond this life.”

“A sort of astral body?” Shirley was now frankly mocking. She had caught the admiration in Grace’s eyes.

“No; nothing like it.” The priest looked through her and she knew he was just a little bored and a trifle disgusted with her flippancy. She had the grace to feel ashamed.

“Sorry, I was being smart,” she apologised. “Yes, I understand what you mean by the life of the soul.”

TWO DIETS

“Well, we Catholics are tremendously impressed with the importance of the supernatural life. We believe that it is given to us in baptism, and that it can be developed, trained, matured, lost, regained, deepened; that it can be sickened and restored to health; that it can be extremely weak and powerfully vigorous. It is analogous in a remarkable degree to the life of the body.

“Now, one of the big instrumentalities of modern medicine in its care of the body is diet.”

“And fasting.” Mrs. Bradley was on sure ground. “Do you know, there’s a doctor here in town that all the women are mad about. He starts them off by letting them eat practically nothing for three days. And it does the most incredible things to their complexions. And before he gets through, what he has done to their figure,-”

FASTING FOR BEAUTY

“Made “em look like skeletons wrapped in loose parchment,” growled her husband.

Mrs. Harrison emerged again.

“When I was a little girl, it was a disgrace to look like your family couldn’t afford to keep you. When I was married, I weighed one hundred and fortyfive pounds, and padded all over for fear my young man would think me skinny. I don’t know what’s come over the women, thinking that men are going to fall in love with a skeleton in chiffon.” She submerged.

“Sounds like an old Turkish empress, doesn’t she?” whispered Grace, They all nodded wordlessly.

“You were saying?” prompted Mrs. Bradley. “For a minute I was afraid Mrs. Harrison was going to make it impossible for me to make a case for dieting,” said the priest.

“Eat what you like and when you like,” murmured the old lady. “I weigh one hundred and eighty, and if it wasn’t for an occasional attack of indigestion and this infernal foot of mine . . .”

They sat silently, until they felt she had slipped across the threshold of consciousness.

“Behold!” said the priest, with the slightest gesture of his hand in the old lady’s direction. “Overweight, indigestion, gout, and sleepiness. Good argument for dieting, don’t you think?”

They shook understanding heads.

OVER-EATING

“It has often been a wonder to me,” Father Hall continued, “how some of our ancestors lived. Did you ever see Hogarth’s picture of the Lord Mayor of London’s dinner? Every guest with a whole chicken, a round of beef, a leg of lamb, a suet pudding, a loaf of bread, and a gallon jug of ale. No wonder our ancestors developed their incredible equators, their paunches that overflowed straight from their chins to their knees, their gout, their high blood pressure, their apoplexy, their rheumatism, their sudden deaths.

“Your modern doctor insists on diet, fasting, watchfulness regarding rich food, much more than he insists on medicines or even on exercise. A man who is a drunkard is physically ill. A glutton is heading for a stroke. A woman who plunges into rich food is playing hob with her figure and her health. Red meats may be eaten with moderation. The old breakfasts, where a man sat down to two pounds of cold roast beef, a ring of sausages, a loaf of black bread, and two quarts of beer, would be regarded today as little less poisonous than arsenic on toast.

BODY AND SOUL

“And, as Mrs. Bradley suggested, all sorts of cures now begin with complete fasts. All sorts of diets banish meats and sweets altogether.

“That’s why, many years ago, Mr. Dooley recorded a famous argument between Father Kelly and Doc Grogan, both of Archy Road.

““Lent is good for the soul,” said Father Kelly.

““Lent is good for the body,” said old Doc. Grogan.

“And they were both right.”

The entire roomful laughed, and Mrs. Harrison laughed a little uncertainly, not having heard the discussion, but being aroused by the laughter it evoked.

“It’s odd,” said Father Hall, meditatively, “how modern medicine has only caught up with what the Church has long commanded and commended. I wonder, considered merely as a practice of health, if the Lenten fast, with its cutting down of meat, its eliminating of one heavy meal and consequent rest to the digestive tract, its paring off of sweets and tobacco and liquor, isn’t exactly what many a doctor would order as an excellent thing for a modern man or woman.”

“He might at that,” said Mr. Bradley, suddenly pulling his hand back as it had started to reach out for the brandy bottle.

But Father Hall was not urging an argument; he was merely thinking aloud.

FAST SOULS

“That, however, is not the point. Our souls get fatty, no doubt of it. They tend to get lazy, and easy-going and well fed. Any sort of self-indulgence is bad for the character. Virtues grow slack with easy ways of life. A pampered body usually houses a slack soul. A body grown fat, because it is richly dined and warmly wined, is likely to drag along with it a soul that has little of virtue and less of heroism.

“A man certainly grows spiritually stronger as he masters his appetites, wh atever they are. If he always reaches out his hand for whatever pleases his eye or stimulates his palate, he finds his will getting flabby and inert. A completely masterful man is a man who can say to himself and to all his faculties, “Do” or “Don’t” or “Stop” or “Continue” and be sure of immediate obedience.

OR LEAVE IT ALONE

“Remember always that giving up food in Lent is almost a sort of symbol. Food is not the important thing, either the taking or the leaving of it. But the ability to take it or leave it, that’s important. The grit required to push aside a tempting dish may be the test of one’s strength of soul. The power to drive one’s body ahead when it is annoyingly insistent on food is a test of strength of will.”

Mr. Bradley grinned.

“I”ve never heard a fellow brag about drink (that he could take it or leave it alone) whoever left it alone. He could take it, all right, But when he started bragging about being able to leave it alone, it was a ten-toone shot that he couldn’t leave it alone any more.”

He picked up the bottle and walked with it across the room, laying it down with an emphatic thud in the centre of the table. He turned and eyed his friends sternly.

“I call your attention to the fact that I made no boasts. But I trust that actions speak louder than words.”

And they all applauded him and cheered in mock encouragement.

SYMBOL

“If food is only a symbol,” Mrs. Bradley asked, “is that why the Church has excused most people from fasting during

Lent?”

Father Hall hesitated.

“The Church is convinced,” he said at last, “that we live in difficult times. We are not the robust race that once pioneered through a tough, hard world. We are not used to cold houses and meals taken when we could get them. We are more nervous; doing more brain work in the main and exposed to the peculiar illness of civilisation. That is why the Church is quite lenient about its dispensations. It does not want any of its laws to be a burden or cause a man physical harm.”

“I”m rather inclined to agree with you,” said Dr. Allenby, in a sudden change of front, “that a certain amount of actual dieting, fasting, and abstaining would do us all a lot of good. I could wish that the Church would not get too lenient.”

TOO LENIENT

“I only wish that the Church could be half as effective in making its followers fast and abstain as the beauty specialists are when they deal with our ladies. I”d hate to put one of my penitents on the diet thousands of women are taking to keep their weight under one hundred and thirty.”

“And what we’ll give up to keep our complexions clear!” agreed Mrs. Bradley.

“Let’s hope the Church doesn’t get too lenient.” Dr. Allenby persisted in being the full -fledged convert. Father Hall restrained any look of surprise. If the professor was won over by the logic of Lent. . . .

“I was thinking,” said their host once more, “of the diets and abstinences that athletes go through when they are in training.”

TRAINING

Father Hall nodded.

“I”ve often used that as an argument with young men,” he said. “I”ve pointed out how, before a fight, fighters eat nothing for twentyfour hours. And we are fighting with the powers of darkness for the eternal crown. I”ve reminded them how football players in training give up smoking and sweets and pork and certain starches.I”ve shown them the connection between correct dieting and winning Olympic championships. And we, in the words of St. Paul, run for a great prize.

“We are spiritual athletes. Our Lent is a time of spiritual training. Our Lenten diet is our spiritual training table. We’ve a hard contest ahead. We’ve bold and aggressive and well-trained adversaries to conquer. We have to be in training. We must be careful that we are not fat and flabby and full of rich food and debilitating drink.”

HOW IT STARTED

“But I thought you said that food was just a symbol?” Shirley Green could not resist a last mild jibe. “And so I did. I suppose the Church chose food because, at the time when Lent was established, really good Catholics had not much else to give up. They could not go to the pagan theatres, anyhow; they either did not exist or were filthy and places of frank sin. The parties of the Christians were more likely to be religious Love Feasts (the lovely Agapes) than dances or bridges. Luxuries were for the rich, and luxuries had not at that time been placed within easy reach of everyone. A child who had a peach or a ripe fig was tasting a delicacy comparable to a modern two-pound box of candy. But food was universal, naturally. And food could be curtailed. Food, therefore, became the accepted symbol and passed into Church law. Anyhow, abstinence from food was hallowed by the ancient practice of holy men of all religions, and was blessed by the example of Christ’s fast.

THE SPIRIT

“It was, however, the spirit back of the renunciation that was really important. Men did not fast because it was a time of sorrow for sin. They were preparing by their voluntary penance for the terrible passion and death that Christ was to undergo during Holy Week. Their abstinence from food was a sort of reparation to Christ for His torturing thirst upon the Cross. They could not be glad when Christ was facing death. And they were offering something to God for the gift of His Son going to death for sinful men.

“Now that spirit must go on. Fasting has been more readily dispensed. The spirit of sor row for sin, of apology for insult, of giving to Him something precious or difficult, is in no way changed. So it is important that little children be taught voluntarily to give up their candy as a gift to God. Dancing feet must be quieted because Christ’s feet drag along the Way of the Cross.

“All of us, as spiritual athletes, must go into training for the well -being of our souls, strengthening our will against the struggles that every man must meet, growing vigorous in body and spirit for the race toward heaven. And we must make ourselves and prove ourselves spiritually trustworthy. The world is so beautiful and so seductive that we are wise to test for ourselves how far it has mastered us and how far we have mastered it.

“It is the spirit of Lent that matters.”

HARD THINGS

Mrs. Harrison heaved herself up heavily.

“Now, what are you all talking about?” she demanded.

“Lent,” replied her hostess. “Lent begins on Wednesday, and we were all discussing . . .”

The old lady forgot her former statement and made a face.

“I hate Lent,” she said.

Father Hall shrugged his shoulders as they all looked at him and laughed.

“Thus speaks the voice of nature,” he said. “But then how few things that are really good for us are easy to take-visits to the dentist, exercise, work, spinach, cold baths, early rising, practicing the piano. . . .”

And they let it go at that.

Nihil Obstat:

F. Moynihan,

Censor Deputatus.

Imprimatur:

@ D. Mannix,

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis.

********

I Met A Miracle

BY REV. PATRICK O’CONNOR,

INDEX

ON Friday morning, September 10th, 1937, 1 came face to face with a miracle. The meeting place was a bustling railway station in France. There was no mistaking the miracle, as with the weight and strength of sixteen stone of burly humanity it helped me to fight my way on to a crowded train.

The name of the miracle was John Traynor. I first beheld him as I came along the platform with my suitcase and saw him waiting to board the coach in which I hoped to ride. A powerfully built man, about five feet ten in height, with a strong, wholesome, ruddy face, dressed in a rather rumpled grey suit, carrying his travelling bag, he stood out from the surrounding crowd. Two of his little boys were with him, and eight or ten Irish and English pilgrims on their way home from Lourdes.

Now John Traynor was a miracle because, by all the laws of nature, he should not have been standing there, hefty and healthy. He should have been, if alive at all, paralysed, epileptic, a mass of sores, shrunken, with a shrivelled, useless right arm and a gaping hole in his skull. That is what he had been. That is the way medical skill had had to leave him, after making its best efforts. That is the way medical science had certified that he must remain. Only a miracle could cure him. . . . A miracle did.

I rode with him for about ten hours in the train that day, and when I said good-bye to him in Paris that evening, it was with the certainty that I could never forget him. He was a delightful character, this big Liverpool Irishman, with his manly faith and piety, lacking all trace of exaggeration in one direction or the other; unaffected and unassuming, yet obviously a fearless militant Catholic; with only a primary education but with a clear mind enriched by the faith and preserved by a great honesty of life. Not for his personality, however, am I bound to remember him but for his story, which he told me on our long journey that day. He told it simply, soberly, exactly, a narrative that it was a grace to hear and is a duty to recall.

VERIFIED

Afterwards I wrote it down and sent my version back to him for checking. Painstakingly, with the aid of Mr. John Murray, the old schoolmaster who had taught him as a boy in St. Patrick’s School, he went over the manuscript, correcting, filling in gaps, adding details. I had the files of the Liverpool newspapers searched to find the corroborative evidence of their reports. I obtained copies of newspaper photographs taken at the time of the miracle. I read the official report signed by six doctors, four English, one French and one Belgian, and issued by the Medical Bureau in Lourdes when more than three years had elapsed to allow for careful examination of all the evidence and to establish the permanence of the cure.

And now, here is the story of John Traynor.

* * * * *

John Traynor was born and reared in Liverpool. His Irish mother died when he was still quite young, but her faith, her devotion to Mass and Holy Communion and her trust in the Blessed Mother stayed with him as a memory and a fruitful example. “She was a daily communicant when few people were,” he told me.

IN THE FIRST WORLD WAR

The first world war broke out in 1914, and Jack Traynor was mobilized with the Royal Naval Reserve, to which he belonged. He was in the naval brigade that took part in the unsuccessful Antwerp expedition of October, 1914, and was in the last battalion to retreat. He was carrying one of his officers to safety, when he was hit on the head by shrapnel. He did not regain consciousness until five weeks later, when he woke up after an operation in a marine hospital in England. He recovered rapidly and went back into service. In 1915, lent to the 1st Dublin Fusiliers, as physical instructor, he was a member of the expeditionary force sent to Egypt and the Dardanelles.

On April 25th, 1915, he took part in the landing from the steamship River Clyde at Gallipoli. He was in charge of the first boat to leave the ship and was one of the few to reach the shore that day. From their positions in the steep banks above the beach the Turks raked the Clyde and the boats with deadly gunfire. The casualties were so heavy that the operation was suspended until nightfall. Meanwhile all the officers in the landing parties had been killed, and Traynor found himself in charge of about 100 men, who took cover in a shallow trench. A Catholic chaplain, Father Finn, was killed in the second boat, from which he fell. Traynor dragged him from under the barbed wire and later he and his comrades buried him on shore.

After dusk more officers and men landed, and the small force began to fight its way, with severe losses, up to the sand hills. For days the bitter fighting continued. Traynor took part, without injury, until May 8th, when he was hit by machinegun fire during a bayonet charge.

He seems to have been literally sprayed with bullets. He was wounded in the head and chest, while a bullet tore through the inner side of his upper right arm and lodged under the collar-bone.

Medical corps men brought him back, dazed and suffering, to the beach, and he was shipped to the base hospital at Alexandria, Egypt. Now began his long years as an invalid and as the patient of unsuccessful operations. A well-known English surgeon, Sir Frederick Treves, operated on him in Alexandria, in an attempt to sew together the severed nerves in the upper arm, which the bullet wound had left paralysed and useless. . The attempt failed, and so did another, made by another surgeon, on the hospital ship that brought Traynor from Alexandria to England. In September, 1915, in the Haslar naval hospital, England. a third operation was performed with the same object-and the same result.

While on the hospital ship Traynor suffered his first epileptic attack. These attacks became frequent.

INCURABLE

The surgeon-general of the navy now advised amputation of the paralysed arm, as there seemed to be no hope of ever joining the torn and shrunken nerves. Traynor would not consent. In November, 1916, another doctor tried to suture the nerves, bringing the number of unsuccessful operations up to four. By this time Traynor had been discharged from the service, first on 80 per cent pension, then on 100 per cent, as being permanently and completely disabled. He had to spend months in various hospitals as an epileptic patient. In April 1920, a doctor realized that the epilepsy was probably the result of the head wounds, and operated on the skull. Whether bits of shrapnel were found and removed is not known, but we do know that the operation left Traynor with an open hole about an inch wide in his skull. Through this opening the pulsations of the brain could be observed. A silver plate was inserted to shield the brain. The epileptic condition was no better after the operation. The fits were as frequent as three a day. Both legs were partly paralysed, and nearly every organ in Traynor’s body was impaired.

An ambulance brought him back to Liverpool, where he lived with his wife and children in a house in Grafton Street. “We were very poor,” he told me. The Ministry of Pensions supplied him with a wheel-chair; in this he would sit for hours outside the house. He had to be lifted from his bed into the chair and back again.

The year 1923-the eighth after he became a casualty in Gallipoli-found him leading this helpless existence. I have counted the names of ten doctors through whose hands he had passed up to then. The result of all their efforts and examinations was to prove that he was completely and incurably incapacitated. Unable to stand or walk, subject to frequent epileptic fits, with three open wounds, one of them in his head, without the power of feeling or movement in his torn and shrivelled right arm, he was indeed a human wreck. Somebody arranged to have him admitted to the Mossley Hill Hospital for Incurables on July 24th, 1923. But by that date Jack Traynor was to be in Lourdes.

What follows is his own narrative, as I wrote it down and as he checked it.

JOHN TRAYNOR’S NARRATIVE

I had always had a great devotion to our Blessed Lady, having acquired it from my mother especially. I felt now that if Our Lady’s shrine at Lourdes was in England, I would go there often. But it seemed to be a far-away place that I could never reach.

In the month of July, 1923, I was at home, helpless as usual, when a neighbour woman came into the house and spoke of an announcement that had been made in our parish. A Liverpool diocesan pilgrimage was being organized for Lourdes. It would cost thirteen pounds to go. A down payment of one pound would engage a place.

My wife was out in the yard and I called her in. I found afterwards that she had already heard about the pilgrimage, but had decided not to tell me, fearing that I’d want to go. I told her to go upstairs and get a certain box in which we kept a gold sovereign, which my brother had given me and which we were treasuring for some special emergency. She asked me what I wanted to do with it now. I said that I wanted to give it to Mrs. Cunningham, a neighbour, as a first payment on a ticket to Lourdes. My wife was very disturbed, but finally did as I told her, and the neighbour went off to make the booking for me.

A few days later, one of the priests in charge of the pilgrimage came to see me. He was upset at the thought of my going and wanted me to cancel my booking.

“You cannot make the trip,” he said. “You will die on the way and bring trouble and grief to everybody.”

My answer was that I had made my first payment, I had booked my place and I was going to Lourdes!

After much talking, he said, finally: “Well, you won’t be allowed to travel unless the doctor gives his approval. If you get a medical certificate, we’ll take you.” Clearly he seemed to think that it was impossible.

I thought that my doctor would approve of the trip, but he refused. We called in several doctors and every one of them said that it would be suicide. Later, when the Ministry of Pensions learned that I had gone to Lourdes, they protested very strongly.

The priest came again to visit me and flung himself across my bed, begging me to give up the idea. I would not-and finally succeeded in going without any medical certificate. To raise the twelve pounds, the balance due on my ticket, we sold some of our belongings and my wife pawned even her few bits of jewellery.

By this time it had got around Liverpool that this crippled and paralysed ex-serviceman wanted to go to Lourdes, and the papers began to write about it. I was the centre of more attention than I liked. Everybody, with the exception of my wife and one or two relatives, told me I was crazy.

DEPARTURE FOR LOURDES

The day for leaving Liverpool came. The pilgrims were to travel on two trains. It was a terrible task to prepare me. I hardly realized what the journey was, and I had nothing I could take with me, except the few shilling left over after we had paid for the ticket. My wife lifted me out of bed, and my brother Francis got me into my invalid chair. There I remained, while the others attended the 4 A.M. Mass at St. Malachy’s. Then, rushed and excited and hoping to avoid public notice, they raced me down through all the back streets of Liverpool to get me to the station.

At the station, there was a large crowd of pilgrims and their friends. Already my case was well known through the newspapers, and people began to fuss around us, making it still more difficult for me to get to the platform. I did reach it- just too late! The first train was about to leave. The priest-director came up to me in great agitation and said: “Traynor, you’re too late! We can’t get you on the train now. In Heaven’s name, take this as a sign that you are not to come. You will only die on the journey.”

I said: “Father, I have paid for my ticket to Lourdes and I’m going to Lourdes.”

He said:”You’ll die on the way.”

I said: “Then I’ll die in a good cause.”

There was another train, and I said that they could put me in the coal tender or anywhere they liked, as long as they put me on the train. By being obstinate about it, I won my point, was placed on the second train amid scenes of excitement and confusion, and began my journey to Lourdes.

In 1923 arrangements for taking care of the sick on the English pilgrimages to Lourdes were not by any means as good as they were later on. The experience was very trying.

I remember practically nothing of the journey, except seeing a number of sick people on stretchers beside me on platforms and docks, some of them bleeding, all of them suffering. I believe that I was very sick on the way. Three times they tried to take me off the train in France to bring me to a hospital, as I seemed to be dying. Each time there was no hospital where they stopped, and the only thing to do was to go on again, with me still on board.

AT LOURDES

We reached Lourdes on July 22nd, and I was transferred with the rest of the sick to the Asile hospital in the domain of the Grotto. I was in a terrible condition, as my wounds and sores had not been freshly bandaged since I left Liverpool.

Meanwhile a Protestant girl from Liverpool had come to the Continent on a holiday tour. She got tired of all the usual show places and happened to come to Lourdes. She was a trained nurse and, seeing all the sick, she offered her services to help in the Asile. Her parents in England, upset at her decision to stay as a volunteer worker in Lourdes, sent out her sister to keep her company. These two girls went down to see the Liverpool pilgrims. They remembered having seen me sitting in my wheel-chair outside my house at home and they volunteered to take care of me. I gladly accepted their kind offer, and they washed and dressed my sores and looked after me during my stay in Lourdes.

Ours was a large pilgrimage, comprising about 1200 people in all, including many priests, headed by the late Archbishop Keating of Liverpool. We spent six days in Lourdes. During that time I was desperately ill. I had several hemorrhages as well as epileptic fits. In fact, one woman took it upon herself to write to my wife, saying that there was no hope for me and that I’d be buried in Lourdes.

In spite of my condition, however, I succeeded in being bathed nine times in the water from the Grotto spring and I was taken to the different devotions in which the sick could join. On the morning of the second day I had a bad epileptic fit as I was being wheeled to the baths. Blood flowed from my mouth and the doctors were very much alarmed. As I came to, I could hear them saying: “Better take him back to the Asileat once.”

I protested, saying: “No, you won’t. I’ve come to be bathed and I’m not going back.”

“You’ll die in the bath,” they told me.

“Very well,” I said. “If I do, I’ll die in a good place.”

I put the brake on the wheel-chair by holding the wheel with my good hand, the left one, and the brancardiers (volunteer stretcher-bearers) had to give in. They took me into the bath and bathed me in the usual way. I never had an epileptic fit after that.

MEDICAL EXAMINATION

(On July 24th Drs. Azurdia, Finn and Marley, who had come with the pilgrimage, examined Traynor at Lourdes. Their signed statement is on record. It testifies that they found him to be suffering from:

1. Epilepsy (“We ourselves saw several attacks during his journey to Lourdes”);

2. Paralysis of the radial. median and ulnar nerves of the right arm;

3. Atrophy of the shoulder and pectoral muscles;

4. A trephine opening in the right parietal region of the skull; in this opening, about 2.5 cm., there is a metal plate for protection;

5. Absence of voluntary movement in the legs and loss co feeling;

6. Lack of bodily control.

We were to leave on the morning of July 27th. The afternoon of July 25th came and I seemed to be as bad as ever. Already preparations were being made for the return journey. A young Frenchman, Felix Douly, who used to come to the Asile selling rosaries and medals, came into our ward, and the last few shillings I had I spent on little religious souvenirs for my wife and children. Then it was time to get ready for the baths.

MIRACLE

I was wheeled down to wait my turn. There were many to be bathed and we all wanted to be finished before the afternoon procession of the Blessed Sacrament, which began at four o’clock. My turn came, and when I was in the bath, my paralysed legs became violently agitated. The brancardiers became alarmed once more, thinking that I was in another fit. I struggled to get on my feet, feeling that I could easily do so, and wondered why everybody seemed to be against me. When I was taken out of the bath, I cried from sheer weakness and exhaustion.

The brancardiers threw my clothes on hurriedly, put me back on the stretcher and rushed me down to the square in front of the Rosary Church to await the procession. Practically all the other sick were already lined up. I was the third last on the outside, to the right as you face the church.

The procession came winding its way back, as usual, to the church, and at the end walked the Archbishop of Rheims, carrying the Blessed Sacrament. He blessed the two ahead of me, came to me, made the sign of the cross with the monstrance and moved on to the next. He had just passed by when I realized that a great change had taken place in me. . My right arm, which had been dead since 1915, was violently agitated. I burst its bandages and blessed myself- for the first time in years.

I had no sudden pain that I can recall and certainly had no vision. I simply realized that something momentous had happened.

I attempted to rise from my stretcher, but the brancardiers were watching me. I suppose I had a bad name for my obstinacy. They held me down and a doctor or a nurse gave me a hypo. Apparently they thought that I was hysterical and about to create a scene. Immediately after the final Benediction they rushed me back to the Asile. I told them that I could walk, and proved it by taking seven steps. I was very tired and in pain. They put me back in bed and gave me another hypo after a while.

(Drs. Azurdia, Finn and Marley certify that they examined Traynor on his return to the Asile after the procession of the Blessed Sacrament. Apparently this was to see if he could really walk, as he claimed. “We find that he has recovered the voluntary use of his legs; the reflexes exist. There is intense venous congestion of both feet, which are very painful. The patient can walk with difficulty.”)

They had me in a small ward on the ground floor. As I was such a troublesome case, they stationed brancardiers in relays to watch me and keep me from doing anything foolish. Late that night they placed a brancardier on guard outside the door of the ward. There were two other sick men in the room, including one who was blind.

The effect of the hypos began to wear off during the night, but I had no full realization that I was cured. I was awake for most of the night. No lights were on.

MIRACLE MADE MANIFEST

The chimes in the basilica above the Rosary rang the hours and half-hours as usual through the night, playing the air of the Lourdes Ave Maria. Early in the morning I heard them ringing, and it seemed to me that I fell asleep at the beginning of the Ave. It could have been a matter of only a few seconds, but at the last stroke I opened my eyes and jumped out of bed. First, I knelt on the floor to finish the rosary I had been saying, then I dashed for the door, pushed aside the two brancardiers and ran out into the passage and the open air. Previously I had been watching the brancardiers and planning to evade them. I may say here that I had not walked since 1915 and my weight was down to eight stone.

Dr. Marley was outside the door. When he saw the man over whom he had been watching during the pilgrimage, and whose death he had expected, push two brancardiers aside and run out of the ward, he fell back in amazement. Out in the open now, I ran towards the Grotto, which is about two or three hundred yards from the Asile. This stretch of ground was gravelled then, not paved, and I was barefoot. I ran the whole way to the Grotto without getting the least mark or cut on my bare feet. The brancardiers were running after me but they could not catch up with me. When they reached the Grotto, there I was on my knees, still in my night clothes, praying to Our Lady and thanking her. All I knew was that I should thank her and the Grotto was the place to do it. The brancardiers stood back, afraid to touch me.

The news was beginning to spread, even though it was still early in the morning. After I had prayed for about twenty minutes, I got up surprised and not pleased to find a crowd of people gathered around, watching me. They drew aside to let me pass, as I walked back towards the Asile. At the far end of Rosary Square stands the statue of Our Lady crowned. My mother had always taught me that when you ask a favour from Our Lady or wish to show her some special veneration you should make a sacrifice. I had no money to offer, as I had spent my last few shillings on rosaries and medals for my wife and children, but kneeling there before the Blessed Mother, I made the only sacrifice I could think of. I resolved to give up cigarettes. All this time, while knowing that I had received a great favour from Our Lady, I had no clear recollection of all the illness that had gone before.

By now the hotels of Lourdes were emptying themselves, and a crowd of excited people had gathered in front of the Asile. I could not understand what they were doing there, as I went in to dress. I put my clothes on, in a hurry, but kept away from the bed, for fear those doctors and brancardiers would tackle me again and treat me as a sick man once more.

I went to the washroom to wash and shave. Other men were there before me. I bade them all good morning, but none of them answered me-they just looked at me in a scared way. I wondered why.

It was still pretty early in the morning when a priest, Father Gray, who knew nothing about my cure, entered the ward where I was and asked if anybody there could serve Mass. I answered that I would be glad to, and went off and served his Mass in the chapel of the Asile. It did not seem strange to me then that I could do this, after being unable to stand or walk for eight years.

I went in to breakfast in the dining-room of the Asile. The other men drew back, as if they were afraid of me. I could not grasp the situation nor could I understand why people were staring at me so hard. After breakfast, when I tried to walk out from the Asile, I found a large crowd outside. They made a rush for me, and I had to retreat, going into the little enclosure, feeling rather upset.

A Mr. Cunningham came out to talk to me. I could see that he found it hard to control his excitement.

He said: “Good morning, Jack. Are you feeling all right?”

“Yes, Mr. Cunningham,” I answered, “quite all right. Are you feeling all right?” Then I asked: “What are all those people doing outside?”

“They’re there, Jack, because they’re glad to see you.

“Well, it’s very nice of them and I’m glad to see them, but I wish they’d leave me alone.”

He told me that one of the priests on the pilgrimage-the one who had opposed my coming-was anxious to speak to me. He was in his hotel in the town, and the problem was how to get to him through the crowd. Finally somebody got an open, horse-drawn carriage into the enclosure in front of the Asile. Mr. Cunningham and I sat in the carriage, and the old French driver started off. But the horse had taken only a few paces when the crowd surged up against the carriage in such a way that the driver was afraid to go any further. We had to get out and go back to the Asile.

Finally, after appeals to the crowd, I got through in another carriage, which brought me up to the hotel where I found the priest. He, too, asked me if I was all right. I was quite surprised by the question. I told him that I felt quite well, thanks, and that I hoped he did, too. He broke down and began to cry.

That day was a nightmare of excitement and crowds. I was the centre of attraction for all the people in Lourdes, it seemed to me.

We left on the nine o’clock train next morning, July 27th. I found that a first-class compartment had been set aside for me. I protested against taking it but I had to give in.

(Early in the morning of July 27th the three doctors examined Traynor before the pilgrimage left Lourdes. Their statement says that:

1. He can walk perfectly;

2. He has recovered the use and function of his right arm;

3. He has recovered sensation in his legs;

4. The opening in his skull has diminished considerably. There have been no more epileptic crises.

When Traynor took off the last of his bandages on returning from the Grotto on the morning of July 26th, he found every one of his sores healed.)

The train went up through France, and I was still in a sort of daze. At one of the stops, the door of my compartment opened, and to my amazement I saw the red skull-cap of Archbishop Keating He came up into the compartment and I knelt to get his blessing. He raised me up, saying: “John, I think I should be getting your blessing.” I could not understand why he said that. Then he led me over, and we both sat down on the bed. Looking at me. he said:

“John, do you realize how ill you have been and that you have been miraculously cured by the Blessed Virgin?”

Then everything came back to me, the memory of my years of illness and the sufferings of the journey to Lourdes and how ill I had been in Lourdes itself. I began to cry, and the Archbishop began to cry, and we both sat there, crying like two children. After a little talk with him. I felt composed. Now I realized fully what had happened.

ARRIVING HOME

Meanwhile the news of the miracle had been telegraphed to the Liverpool papers, but my wife had not heard of it. Somebody on the train-Father Quinlan or Father McKinley-said to me that I should send her a wire. I did not care to make a fuss in a telegram, so I just sent her this message:”Am better-Jack.”

One of the priests in our parish, Father Dawber, got the news from the papers and rushed down to my wife, for fear the shock might be too great for her. By now the train was due to arrive shortly in Liverpool. He asked her if she had any news of me.

“I had a letter from a woman on the pilgrimage,” she answered, “and it upset me very much. It said that Jack was dying and would never leave Lourdes alive. But just today I had a telegram from himself saying that he is feeling better.”

She thought that I was only back to my ordinary state of bad health, having got over the danger I seemed to be in while in Lourdes.

“The train will be in shortly, Mrs. Traynor,” said Father Dawber, “and I think it would be nice to go down to meet it. But suppose you find Jack improved quite a bit, will you promise me that you won’t get upset?”

“To be sure, Father,” she answered. “I’ll promise. And I’ll be glad if I see him improved.”

“Suppose you see him walking, Mrs. Traynor?”

“Father, I’m afraid I’ll never see Jack walk. But anyhow you can rely on me.”

My wife went down to the station with her friend, Mrs. Reitdyk. It seemed as if all Liverpool had gathered there. The people had seen the news of the miracle in the evening papers and had come down to see me. There were extra police on duty to handle the crowd, while railway officials stood at the entrance to the platform to keep the people from rushing the train.

With difficulty my wife and her friend reached the platform gate, where she told the official that she was Mrs. Traynor and asked to be allowed through.

“Well,” replied the man, “all I can say is that Mr. Traynor must be a Mohammedan, because there are seventy or eighty Mrs. Traynors on the platform already!”

Anyhow he let them through, and they waited on the platform. Meanwhile the railway company had decided that the only safe thing was to stop the train outside the station. They did this, and then the Archbishop walked towards the crowd, now a huge one, and addressed it. He asked the people to be orderly, and asked them to promise that if they just saw Traynor walk down the platform, they would be satisfied and would disperse. They assured him that they would.

But when I did appear on the platform, there was a stampede. The police had to draw their batons to force a passage for my wife and myself to a taxi. My brother got a blow on the side of the head before he could fight his way into the taxi with me.

We drove home, and I cannot describe the joy of my wife and children.

PERMANENT CURE

I am in the coal and haulage business now. I have four lorries or trucks and about a dozen men working for me. I work with them. I lift sacks of coal weighing around 200 pounds with the best of them and I can do any other work that an ablebodied man can do. But officially I am still classified as 100 per cent disabled and permanently incapacitated!

I never accepted a penny from anybody at the time of my cure or after it. I came back from Lourdes penniless, except for my war pension. I have never permitted any money to come to my family in connection with my cure or the publicity that has followed it. Nevertheless, Our Lady has improved my temporal affairs, too, and, thanks be to God and to her, I am now comfortably situated, and my children are all well provided for. Three of them have been born since my cure, one a girl whom I have named Bernadette.

The two non-Catholic girls who looked after me when I came to Lourdes joined the Church as the result of my cure. Their family at home in Liverpool followed their example, and so did the Anglican minister of the church they had been attending. I know of another parson who would like to follow suit, only that he is a married man with a family. A large number of conversions in Liverpool have resulted from the miracle.

I go to Lourdes now every year and work as a brancardier there. I have gone twice and three times in one season.

FINAL MEDICAL REPORT

On July 7th, 1926, Traynor was examined again at Lourdes by Dr. Vallet, president of the Medical Bureau, together with five other doctors, Drs. Azurdia, Finn and Marley of Liverpool, who had examined him before and after his cure in 1923. Dr. Harrington of Preston and Dr. Moorkens of Antwerp They found no trace of epilepsy or paralysis. His right arm was completely free from atrophy. The pectoral and shoulder muscles were fully restored. His wrist worked normally and he could use his right hand. As often happens in Lourdes cures, he had a souvenir of the injuries from which he had been miraculously liberated. The right hand does not hang quite normally; it is slightly en griffe. The right forearm is barely 1.5 cm. less thick than the left. The only trace of the hole in his skull was the slight depression that could be felt in the bone.

The official report, issued by the MedicalBureau at Lourdes on October 2nd, 1926, declared that “this extraordinary cure is absolutely beyond and above the powers of nature.”

The most striking part of this multiple miracle is probably the instantaneous cure of the right arm. The nerves had been severed for eight years. Four surgical operations had revealed that they were truly severed and had failed to reunite them. More than mere suture would be necessary before the arm could feel and move again; the shrunken nerves would need to go through a long process of regeneration. A feat that expert surgery had failed four times to do and a process that requires months of gradual restoration were achieved instantaneously as the Blessed Sacrament was raised over John Traynor.

Another group of experts testified-though unconsciously-to the miracle. These were the doctors and officials of the War Pensions Ministry. These gentlemen, after years of examination, treatment and inspection, certified that John Traynor was incurable, and they showed the strength of their conviction by awarding him full disability pension for life. They have never revoked that decision.

EPILOGUE

As I was about to publish this account, news has come that John Traynor died on the eve of the feast of the Immaculate Conception, 1943. The cause of his death was hernia, in no way related to the illness and wounds of which he was cured in Lourdes. For more than twenty years he lived a vigorous life, every moment of which he owed to the miracle of July 1923. For more than twenty years he was a standing, stalwart testimony to the power of Almighty God and the efficacy of the intercession of Mary Immaculate. In his rugged person he presented a tangible argument with which unbelief could not wrestle without being overthrown. For some this miracle has brought the surrender which is a gain and a victory. Others-it has happened from the beginning and will happen to the end-have taken flight from the facts, in one direction or another.

Miracles such as the cure of John Traynor are, of course, rare, while they are real. They point the way not to a wideopen exit from all physical suffering but rather to the spiritual recoveries and triumphs that are certain to come from unhesitating faith and a childlike approach to Jesus Christ, through Mary, His Mother and ours.

OUR LADY OF LOURDES PRAY FOR US

********

I Must Obey The Church!

BY REV. DR. RUMBLE, M.S.C

INDEX

I write in a spirit of reparation and gratitude, At one time I was amongst those who entertained an unreasonable enmity towards the Catholic Church, an enmity which does little real harm to the Church, but which does cloud one’s vision of the city set upon the hill of the centuries. My one-time enmity demands reparation. And one who has gladly entered within the city’s gates cannot but be filled with a sense of deep gratitude to God. As one who abandoned Anglicanism over twenty years ago, I write chiefly for those who still lack the explicit and the authentic directions given by God to men through the Catholic Church; that Church which alone can tell men the things that are to their peace. Yet descriptions of that wonderful city of God, with which they have long been familiar, can never lose interest even for Catholic hearts, above all when those descriptions come from the lips of those who have known what it is to be without the faith I cannot, of course, describe the full appeal of Catholicism in so brief a booklet. But I take what is to me the most outstanding characteristic of Catholicism- the sense of law and order which prevails in the Church, and the spirit of obedience to be found amongst Catholics as among the members of no other religion.

I

WHO FOUNDED THE CATHOLIC CHURCH?

I remember having studied Ransome’s Short History of England during my schooldays, rather proud of “Bluff Old Hal’s” bout with the Catholic Church. We were told that the Pope had, until then, been head of the Church in England, and that Henry had won liberty for himself and for his people from Papal domination. To my schoolboy enthusiasm it had seemed a brave thing to have accomplished, and it awakened the loyal strains of “Britons never will be slaves” within my patriotic heart.

The ecclesiastical significance of the step never entered my head. The fact that England had been under obedience to the Pope was quite clear; but it was obvious that it ought never to have been so subject. As for the continuity of the Anglican Church, that theory would have robbed the whole proceeding of its chief glory. The splendid discontinuity was the thing that appealed. Henry VIII had grown tired of slavish subjection to Rome, and had built for his English subjects a new and independent Church, to be the splendid privilege of the British race. It differed from the religions of the benighted foreigners on the Continent, whether Catholic or Protestant; and I could never understand the disloyalty of both Catholics and Protestants in England who refused to accept the Royal Supremacy.

But my chief point here is the fact that historically we were clearly told the names of those who had inaugurated the new religious movements. Henry certainly was the founder of the Church of England; John Knox, in Scotland, countered by organising the Presbyterians; and each new phase of the religious variations could likewise be traced to some given individual. But the Catholic Church seemed to fade out of the picture and lose interest by the mere fact that it was not in contact with later English history. At most it seemed a lingering influence, to be noted and dismissed with relief with each crushed rebellion or conspiracy; or to be made an occasion of a vague gratitude to God that I was born of Protestant parents, when I read of its wretched subjects in such books as “Westward Ho.” Later on, however, the problem of the origin of the Catholic Church presented itself to me in a way which would admit of no shirking. Who was the founder of the Catholic Church? I had never been told. It was in the world, and seemed to have been in the world a mighty long time. But I had just taken this for granted as a fact, and a sad one at that, with a touch of the bogey thrown in. Certainly Christ had nothing to do with it. It was an anti-Christian institution of human, or even of diabolical, origin, and not for the descendants of Old England. But this boyish view could continue to exist only by refusal to think. The view is still met with among certain types of people with whom English sentiment as a form of snobbery has usurped the place of religion, or with those whose religion has been built upon obscure and mystical passages of Scripture wrapped around the Second Coming of Christ. George Tyrrell’s mother objected to his be- coming a Catholic because he would have to attend the same Church as the cook; whilst a Judge Rutherford, the selfconstituted witness of Jehovah, knows that every form of organised Christianity is simply due to the instigation of the devil. In these types an obsession renders any other point of view invisible. What of the man without such an obsession.

Since my ordination as a Priest I have frequently entered into discussion with various Protestant clergymen, met as fellow travellers on trains and boats. In response to my enquiry as to their views concerning the origin of the Catholic Church, I have met with surprising replies. Not one, of course, would admit that Christ personally established a society such as is the Catholic Church today, intending and actually prescribing its present constitution. One said that Jesus did not really intend to establish a new and distinct Church at all, and that St. Paul took it upon himself to rebel against the Synagogue and to organise Christians in a separate body, though with no notion of an institution such as the Catholic Church today. He found difficulty in explaining Our Lord’s prediction, “They shall deliver you up to councils, and in the Synagogues you shall be beaten.” Mk. xiii., 9. Separation from and opposition to the Synagogue was certainly in Our Lord’s mind then. Still greater difficulty did this clergyman find in attempting to justify his position as minister in a Church separated from the Jewish religion owing to the influence of St. Paul against the intentions of Christ.

But the majority of those with whom I have conversed on the subject have fallen back upon the magic word evolution. Christ taught moral principles only. St. Peter and St. Paul, who believed in Christ, persuaded others to do so also, regarding their converts as friends and brothers, equal in authority and standing to themselves. The Apostles never thought of legislating for their supposed subjects. Practical needs led later Christians to adopt a discipline and create Bishops, Priests, and Deacons for themselves. In fact, not until the 2nd century did anything like the present Catholic Church manifest itself. It is no use trying to prove that Christ intended to establish an organised society such as the Catholic Church when the early Christians simply knew nothing about it! “What were the ideas of the early Christians on the subject?” I asked one such clergyman. “Well,” he replied, “I think they were simply a group of pious Jews who believed in Christ, and that was all. Their only rule of faith was Scripture, each reader depending upon private guidance by the Holy Spirit. Certainly they had no set doctrines, no regulated worship, and no idea of organised Apostolic authority.”

Now, granted acceptance of the Gospels, it is most difficult to understand how men can really advance the theory that the Catholic Church as it is to-day was quite unexpected by Christ, even apart from the fact that He was God, with a clear knowledge of all future events. Such men also have their obsession that every-thing must be attributed to evolution. “Even the religious spirit of man,” they say, “is in constant evolution, and the present Catholic Church is the result of purely human and natural factors. By further evolution men will outgrow it, and arrive at better things.” So they insist upon interpreting all in the light of this their first principle. Yet what avails a preconceived theory against the facts? Things are not true because I would like them to be true. The theory that Christ could not have established such a Church as the Catholic Church today because it had to evolve, and the thought that the early Christians could not have known such a Church because evolution demands time, avail nothing against the fact, if it be a fact, that Christ did establish just such a Church, and that the early Christians were quite aware of it.

Catholics hold that God sent His only begotten Son into this world for the redemption of mankind, and that that Son established His Church, commissioning it to teach all nations. But was He the Author of the essential constitution which we find in the Catholic Church today? The evidence that He was is overwhelming. He called the work He came to establish a kingdom, and a kingdom means organised unity, not anarchy. To establish that kingdom was one of the cardinal points of His mission. “I must preach the Kingdom of God, for therefore am Isent.” Lk. iv., 43. That kingdom He identifies with His Church in this world. Thou art Peter, and upon this rock I will build my Church, and I will give to thee the keys of the kingdom.” Matt. xvi. . 18. Peter, the rock, was obviously a foundation in this world. In any case, when Our Lord compared His kingdom to a net holding good and bad fish, He was speaking of an earthly kingdom, and not of heaven, where no bad fish are to be found. Moreover, He prescribed its teaching, worship and authority He told His Apostles, “All things whatsoever I have heard of My Father I have made known to you.” Jn xv., 15. He commanded them, “Go, teach all nations . . . to observe all things whatsoever Ihave commanded you.” Matt. xxviii., 20. The essential rites of Baptism, forgiveness of sins, and of Eucharistic worship were clearly prescribed by Christ personally; and whatever the nature of their powers, the Apostles were evidently to be rulers. The power to bind and loose on earth can have no other implication; and this is confirmed by the very serious words, “He who despises you, despises Me; and he who despises Me, despises Him that sent Me.” Lk. x., 16. And, notwithstanding all theories to the contrary, the early Christians were quite aware of all this. “They were persevering in the doctrine of the Apostles, and in the breaking of bread, and in prayers.” Acts ii., 42. .

But the theory of the evolution of the Church led me to a deeper study of the early Christian Church than perhaps I might have undertaken had I not met these Protestant- clergymen. Most of them admitted that the Catholic Church existed with the essentials of its present organisation by the end of the 2nd century, the authority of the Bishops and Priests being evolved as a practical measure to cope with heresies and also in some degree in imitation of the organisation of the pagan Roman empire. Alas for the theory! A deep study of the early Christian writers of the second century, writers, who lived in different and far apart localities, and who could nothave known each others” works since they were contemporaries, shows that they were familiar with a Church rejoicing everywhere in the same doctrine, worship, and form of government. The same new idea could not start simultaneously in all sections of the Church at once. One has but to notice all the varying forms of teaching, worship and government which arose in different localities under the influence of Protestantism. And we know how the new ideas of one section led to violent opposition from other sections, the world of the 16th century seething with controversies, not only between Protestants and Catholics, but between Protestants themselves. But where were the controversies amongst the early Christians concerning the introduction of a newly usurped authority, and a newly imposed organisation within the Church? They were nonexistent. As a matter of fact, even the very earliest forms of the Apostles” Creed demanded an act of faith in the Church just as they demanded faith in God and in Christ. It would be ridiculous to ask a well-read man of the 2nd century to make an act of faith in the divine origin of the Church as it then stood if an obviously natural, human, and merely historical evolution were responsible for its being. It would have been so easy to prove the opposite. I do not say that the constitution of a society could not be changed within a space of 150 years. But such a change would be known to all, and no one would admit that the new condition was the original condition. If Ireland becomes a Republic, Irishmen will not be so foolish as to say that Queen Victoria gave them their republican constitution. Nor will they say so in 150 years time. But the whole process of reasoning adopted by these men is based upon supposition that Our Lord did not establish the Catholic Church as it is at present constituted. It is a mere supposition, based in turn upon nothing save a desire to avoid submission to that Church. They have not a sound historical argument to produce. They seem unconcerned that, in order to develop their theory, they must even ignore historical facts. They are undismayed by the dreadful consequence that they impute to St. Paul, and to the Bishops who were trained by the Apostles themselves, the gravest of sins-the deliberate perverting and distorting of the work of Christ for their own ends; and this by men, most of whom died as martyrs for the love of Christ. They care not that they attribute to the faithful of those early times a bland indifference to things that mattered enormously, and a folly which would submit to so fraudulent and dishonest an imposition as it grew and intensified step by step. I have pointed these things out to many a non-Catholic with whom I have discussed these matters. In many cases such discussions have led them to the faith. But in others they have failed.

A Priest can explain the faith, but he cannot give it. God reserves that to Himself. And very often a man who has a theory before he starts can see all that fits his theory, and be quite blind to the most obvious facts which militate against it.

Yet to the question as to who actually founded the Catholic Church as that Church is at present constituted, there is but one answer worth consideration.

Christ personally did so. He who denies this fact must either deny existence to the Catholic Church or must call the problem insoluble merely because he has buried his head in the sand, refusing to face the problem at all. But the Catholic Church cannot merely be taken as an existent fact and left at that. She did not just grow as did Topsy. She was established by Christ, given all the necessary information by Him, and sent to teach the nations with His authority vested in the Apostles and in their successors.

II

CONSTITUTIONAL AUTHORITY OF THE CHURCH

Every institution has some system of discipline and management. We cannot do without officials. Anyone who so much as starts a club will draw up a constitution of some sort, and assign to some individuals official duties. Even the Soviet, with its hatred of kings, emperors, presidents and rulers, has had to create its very officious officials. It is a fundamental law of any society, and the natural dictate of ordinary human prudence. And Christ, Wisdom itself, established a Church for men which was perfectly adjusted both to the spiritual welfare of humanity and to natural human propensities. In any case He would not want chaos. Somehow or other the faithful must be united in some order, those in control being endowed with the necessary authority by the Founder personally.

The supreme officials in the Catholic Church are the Bishops, and we say that they constitute the hierarchy. But the very word “hierarchy” means a sacred body of rulers, and once the sacred element enters into a question; feelings are apt to run high. Rulers in matters of religion seem so opposed to liberty of conscience, according to the notions of a world badly infected by Protestant principles. For the consecrated officials claim not only the right to dispense information to enquirers as to the route to heaven. They claim the right to issue orders to all who are subject to them, and also the power to fit their subjects spiritually for the heaven they wish to attain.

Outsiders, of course, regard the Catholic system as a system of despotism. I remember so well the idea prevalent amongst my own circle of pre-Catholic friends, an idea of priest-ridden Catholic countries, and the slavish subjection of the masses. All priests were born tyrants. I am a Catholic priest today, and I am sure many of my Protestant relatives and old-time Protestant friends would be surprised to learn that I do not belong to the Church-teaching, but merely to the Church-taught, and that the Bishops alone constitute the Church-teaching. The authority of the Church is vested in them, and delegated according to their discretion to simple Priests. It is true that I am separated from the laity by my ordination. I have the power to offer the sacrifice of the Mass, and the duty to explain Catholic doctrine; but all my activities as a Priest are subject to the authority and directions of the Bishops, who alone are rulers in the strict sense within the Kingdom of Christ. However, even this humble avowal will not pacify all.

The vast majority of non-Catholics will have nothing to do with priesthood or episcopacy. They say that such spiritual domination is not only not the will of Christ, but that it is directly opposed to His principles. There is no such thing as distinction between Priest and layman. If there be any spiritual power in the Church, it is given to every Christian. All alike must possess it, and it cannot be the prerogative of an ordained clergy. It is true that the Anglican Church, to which I belonged, has kept an outward semblance of Bishops and Priests, but apart from the recent HighChurch movement, ardent Protestant sentiment denied any real priestly power to Anglican ministers. They were not to be considered priests in the Catholic sense of this word. As late as 1925 the Anglican Bishop Knox wrote in the “National Review,” Sept. issue, p. 73: “The Pope refused to recognise our Anglican orders on the ground that our Church does not ordain Priests to offer the Sacrifice of the Mass. In spite of the attempts made by our Archbishops to conceal this defect, the Pope from his point of view was unquestionably right.” And the very Bishops, whatever their outward status, certainly lack authority in the Church. A Protestant-minded Bishop cannot control his Catholic-minded clergy. Some years ago I met a High-Church Anglican minister who confided to me that he said Mass every morning out of a Latin missal, and that he was, therefore, as Catholic as I was. I pointed out to him that his Bishop was quite opposed to such proceedings.

“Don’t you obey your Bishop?” I asked. “Oh, yes,” he replied, “I do-when he is right.”

But leaving the Anglican Church, which does retain an outward hierarchical semblance without possessing the priestly reality, what of the non-conformists? Amongst them we find a repudiation of Bishops altogether, and no pretence to a priesthood in the strict sense of the word. Many ministers go so far as to wear a Roman collar, but others disapprove even this distinction from the laity and insist upon a collar and tie. The more Protestant, the less priestly is the rule. And of course that means also the less authority. Years ago I remember the indignation of a good Congregationalist concerning the presumption of his minister. I was an Anglican at the time, and rather sympathetic. It appears that the minister in question was an ex-Catholic Priest who had violated the discipline of the Catholic Church, and had betaken himself, not happily, elsewhere. Unable to dig, and ashamed to beg, he became a Congregationalist, before passing to the Presbyterians. But, alas, he still spoke as one having authority, only to find himself waited upon by representatives of the congregation, who informed him that he must preach what they wanted, not what he thought best. He had believed that he could behave still as an authorised guide, but he had joined a Church where the sheep are the leaders and the shepherd must follow. The Catholic notion of the hierarchy is not acceptable to Protestants.

I have lately read a Seventh Day Adventist treatise, setting forth a widespread view of the Catholic posi tion. “The Priest of Rome,” it says, “presumes to fill the office Christ alone can occupy. The Papacy has tried to rob Christ of His continual mediation. Thus Rome destroys the very essence of Christianity. What a frightful tragedy is the attempt of the Roman Catholic Church to interpose its system of priestly mediation between man and his God! Direct communion with God through Christ, without the intervention of Pope or Priest-such is the true message of Protestantism.”

But do they know the true essence of Christianity? And what if the Christ they would worship insists upon Pope and Priests? Surely He has the right to decide upon the way in which they will come to Him, not they!

It is certain that, by terming His Church a Kingdom, Christ implied an organised society with ruling officials distinct from those to be ruled. And His actual selection of some men rather than others, upon whom He conferred His own mission and authority, leaves no possible doubt. “You have not chosen Me; I have chosen you.” “As the Father hath sent Me, I send you.” “He who hears you, hears Me.” “Whatever you bind on earth is bound also in Heaven.” The texts flow on, all converging to the one conclusion that Christ appointed certain rulers, endowing them with sacred and spiritual power to guide the faithful and minister to the worship of God. They were to have magisterial power to teach all nations; sanctifying power to baptise, forgive sin, offer the Sacrifice of the Mass, and, as St. Paul expresses it, to dispense the mysteries of God, disciplinary authority, demanding that their subjects observe all that Christ had commanded, and making further use of their legislative power according to the needs of the times. St. Paul wrote to the Hebrews, “Obey your prelates, and be subject to them.” He did not hesitate to excommunicate the scandalous Corinthian.

It is all in keeping with sound reason, and with what we already know of God’s ways. I would find it indeed hard to understand why God” should depart from His love of order where religion is concerned. In regulating the universe He has ordained a hierarchy of planetary and stellar systems all subject to law. All through nature we find secondary ruling causes adapted to particular and effectual control of other beings. And in the spiritual order we will find a reflection of God’s normal providence in the natural order. He is the same God whose touch we can recognise when we find Him using secondary agents for the instruction of men in the Gospel; for their direction and sanctification.

Then, too, man is a social being. Whilst the dignity of the individual demands that he must co-operate personally in the work of his salvation, it is also fitting that the race as a whole should co-operate in the service of God. By social organisation true progress comes in the natural order. Experience shows that men attain an end more successfully by such means. Societies are organised for the promotion of all kinds of objects, civil and religious. Why should the whole Church of Christ, ordained to the chief end of all, the salvation of souls, lack so useful a means? Will not souls be saved more surely by social co-operation, some men being endowed with power and authority? As a matter of fact, those Churches which have renounced an authoritative hierarchy have failed to keep the faith intact, and lack all real power to maintain Christian standards in moral matters. Yet, notwithstanding the success of the Catholic Church in holding her people, ever expanding without loss of unity, and in retaining standards of Christian virtue which other Churches see abandoned without daring to protest, few aspects of the Church are attacked as this hierarchical character of Catholicism.

The objection proceeds from misunderstanding and from wrong principles. Protestants do not understand the Catholic position. They seem to think that the hierarchy can decide as it pleases what is right and wrong. No such claim is made by the Church. The Church claims the right to explain God’s laws, and to make her own laws within the limits of the jurisdiction given her by Christ; and that means that she can make and impose no law which conflicts in any way with divine positive legislation, or with the principles of natural morality. Wrong principles contribute to the opposition. Protestants insist that each man’s own conscience must be his guide. No one must be told what to do by any hierarchy of Bishops. But such independence is against all the laws of moral behaviour. There must be absolute standards apart from our own personal judgment. For conscience is simply man’s intelligent judgment applied to moral matters, just as the same faculty is applied to mathematics or literature. And it is human to err. If a man’s judgment can be at fault where literary ideals are concerned, it can be at fault where moral ideals are in question. Conscience can be right or wrong. It is certainly wrong if it bids one do what the known law of God forbids. A right conscience is one perfectly adjusted to God’s laws. If a Protestant tells me that he has at least the ten commandments, I can but reply that even these commandments need interpreting every bit as much as civil law, and that, in the name of liberty of conscience, Protestants have come to the most contradictory conclusions in moral matters. Catholics at least have a consistent guide to help them to form their conscience correctly. God has given moral precepts which stand out as signposts along the track to heaven, but He has also given us an authoritative Church to explain and conduct us along that track.

I am quite certain that my own spiritual welfare and ultimate salvation is the more assured the more faithful I am to the directive precepts of the Catholic Church, whether in my private or social life. And that applies to every single Catholic. Christ instituted an authorised teaching and ruling body in the persons of the Bishops of the Catholic Church. Obedience to their authority is the outstanding characteristic of Catholics. It is the contrast between Catholicism and Protestantism. Even in Anglicanism, with its apparently hierarchical constitution, a secular parliament can forbid a prayer-book; and lay-representation can out-vote the shepherds of the flock.

Rebellion against the authority of the Catholic Church did not bring a blessing to the sects which departed from her principles and authority. Nor can it ever bring a blessing. Apparent benefits prove in the end to have been but apparent. If I have any hope of God’s blessing, I can expect it in proportion to my submission to the guidance of His Church in all religious matters, and even in temporal concerns where moral principles are involved. That is the conviction of every truly Catholic soul. For the Catholic Church is God’s authentic bureau on earth for the dispensing of religious truth to mankind, and her Bishops have been commissioned by Christ to regulate and to conduct to their eternal happiness the souls confided to her care. But if the Catholic Church claims the right to rule over her subjects, she also claims the power to sanctify them, preparing them for the Vision of God even as she conducts them towards that wonderful goal. And this is a still more arrogant usurpation of the prerogatives of Christ in the eyes of those outside the Church. It demands our consideration.

III

THE POWER TO SANCTIFY

Christ founded His Church to continue His work through the ages, the redemption and the sanctification of souls. The Church must not only teach the truth; she must destroy the sins of men in the confessional, and nourish their spiritual lives with the very Bread of Life in Holy Communion. The Catholic Priest, under the direction of the Bishop, is not only guide, but father. Catholics lovingly and reverently call him “Father,” to the horror of those brought up in alien religions. When I was out in the cold as a Protestant, the term jarred upon me as it does upon most nonCatholics. Yet the Priest is commissioned by Christ to fulfil all parental duties in the spiritual sphere. By his agency at the baptismal font the children of the Church acquire the very life of grace. He instructs and educates his flock, in the truths of religion; binds up their spiritual wounds; provides the food of their souls; and stands at their death-bed, seeing each soul safely off to God.

Such ideas are foreign to Protestants, owing to their strange upbringing. They do not even regard their ministers as agents of sanctification. They do not even regard their Church, as a rule, in the light of a really sanctifying power in this world. For them, such an association is useful for the regulation to some extent of worship, and for the exchange of views. I have heard more than one minister of modern evolutionary tendencies say that the Church has no purpose except to foster and develop the collective instinct of religion. Each one’s religious consciousness will thus evolve and progress more perfectly. But the Church has no direct power to sanctify souls by destroying sins and conferring grace; nor is it really necessary to join any Church at all in order to attain salvation. The work of sanctification must ever be God’s own personal and immediate work. It could not be delegated to men.

What would be my personal work? Believe! Have faith in Christ my Saviour!

I must admit-that, even before I became a Catholic, this always seemed to me vague. I had often noticed the Axiom, “Believe in Christ, and be saved” painted on tree-trunks and fences, whirling past the windows of trains in which I happened to be travelling. Precisely what it meant baffled me so much whenever I bestowed any thought upon it that I just gave up thinking about it at all. Was there nothing to be done? Was Christianity so indefinite? Could the repetition of a formula save anybody? Of course I knew that many people obtained some deep interior conviction on the subject, and that Christ personally meant very much to them. But if all the food in the world were piled up in front of a man, he would starve if he did no more than believe that it was there.

Then, too, the idea of “being saved” was puzzling. Was it possible for any man to say that he was already saved while still in this life? What was it like to be among “the” saved”? Yet again, some people have the intense conviction that they are bound to attain to salvation, and that there is no possibility of forfeiting their eternal happiness. This attitude of mind, or rather of religious sentiment, I found well illustrated by an incident which I heard some few years ago from the lips of a very holy, old Priest.

He was travelling to a distant place in order to give a retreat, and the only other occupant of the compartment was a fervent young lady of Protestant persuasions. She was impressed by the old Priest’s absorption in his Breviary, and when he had finished timidly spoke to him of the Christ she undoubtedly loved.

“And oh, sir,” she said, as she poured out her heart, “isn’t it lovely to be saved?”

“And are you saved?” asked the old Priest gently.

Why, yes!” she replied.

Then you are very fortunate,” the old Priest answered, “and I wish I were as certain as you. But I am not saved yet. Meantime, what did St. Paul mean when he said that he who thinks himself to stand must beware lest he fall; and why did he fear lest, having preached to others, he himself might become a castaway? He even spoke of those who were once illuminated, and who had tasted the heavenly gift and become partakers of the Holy Ghost, yet who had fallen away!”

Her only reply to this was the pathetic plea, “Oh, sir, don’t rob me of the lovely feeling I have!”

Unconsciously she fell back upon the basic foundation of her comfortable persuasion, religious sentiment, and where mere sentiment is concerned, self-deception is almost second nature to man. But it is not difficult to understand that people imbued with such ideas of immediate uplift to Christ will resent the intervention of any third party. Christ is the immediate object of their faith, and if nothing more is required save to believe in Him, if there is nothing more concrete to be done for sanctification and salvation, the Priest is certainly unnecessary.

Yet surely, in the end, it is for Christ to dictate the conditions of salvation, and He did not restrict Himself to the words, “He who believes shall be saved.” He established a Church which He identified with Himself in almost every possible way. When Saul persecuted members of the Church, He made the startling protest, “Saul, Saul, why persecutest thou Me?” That Church received identity of mission, doctrine and authority. What was the purpose of Christ? “The Son of Man is come to save that which was lost.” To the Church He said, “As the Father hath sent Me I send you-whose sins you forgive, they are forgiven.” And these words He said to her in the persons of His selected apostles. They were to continue His redemptive work.

St. Paul demanded that the early Christians should regard him as set apart for this purpose. “Let men esteem us as ministers of Christ and dispensers of the mysteries of God.” (I. Cor. iv., 1.) The Catholic Priesthood still dispenses sacred and mysterious gifts of God to men. Under the direction of the Bishops, they teach, rule, and sanctify souls. And in order to sanctify, they must have at their disposal a certain control of divine grace, the only means towards the attaining of a supernatural holiness. The Church does not exist merely in order to produce natural goodness and to stimulate humanitarian activities. She exists in order to produce supernatural virtue, and eternal salvation. She exists to destroy sin, and to infuse grace into the souls of her children.

It is absurd to quarrel with the Church for not smoothing out all individual and social troubles in this world, as if her mission were to establish an economic paradise on earth. The communist who objects to the Church on the score that she offers you “pie in the sky when you die” is more intelligible, for he at least has a more correct idea of her mission. She is there to prepare men for a supernatural, eternal, and unearthly destiny. And her work is to sanctify us now, through her sacraments and priestly directions, in order to secure our salvation and the glory of God.

I know well the host of objections which arise in the non-Catholic mind when it is suggested that Priests can forgive sins and confer grace. But these objections all arise from the false premises of Protestantism, or from a misconception of Catholic theology.

It is a false principle to say that Christ has paid the price for our redemption, that He has expiated our sins, and that nothing more is required. There is a difference between the paying of the price in general, and the application of it to individual souls. Christ has paid sufficiently and perfectly. But it does not follow that all men by that very fact participate in the benefits of Christ. He sent His Church to apply His merits, already acquired, to the souls of men. She continues His mediation and His redeeming work.

The very word, mediation, however, awakens the stock objection that Christ is the only mediator, an objection which derives its force solely from a misconception of Catholic teaching. “The Priest,” men say, “arrogantly usurps the place of Christ!” Did he do so, it would be unpardonable. But no Catholic has ever believed that he could do so. No Priest claims to exercise his power as being proper and natural to himself. He has a very secondary place. Christ is the principal source of all sanctity and grace, and He has the right to make use of human agents as instrumental means. The work is as much His as ever. My pen is utterly incapable of writing a letter by itself. I am the cause of the letter I write, and the fact that I am using a pen does not render me any the less the cause of my work. The human being who happens to be a Priest is utterly incapable of forgiving a sin as a merely human being. But as a Priest he is, the instrument of the Priesthood of Christ, has been incorporated in Christ by Christ in an altogether special way, and fulfils the will of Christ at the bidding of Christ. And far from coming between the soul and Christ, or hindering union with Christ, he removes and destroys the one obstacle to union with Christ by absolving the sins of his penitents, and urges access to Christ, making such access possible at the altar rails in the Catholic Church as it is possible in no other church. It is the thought that the Priest claims to act instead of Christ rather than on behalf of Christ that causes the difficulty in so many Protestant minds. And if we add the prejudiced caricature of Priests which is latent in some Protestant minds, the difficulty becomes formidable indeed. If I think that this man claims to possess in his own right the power to sanctify others, and I also think this man to be evil in himself, I am naturally puzzled as to how such a wicked specimen could give what he does not possess. If he be not merely the channel, but the source of grace, and he be evil, how can it be? I do not say that all Protestants believe Priests to be evil merely because they are Priests. But that is because 100 per cent. Protestantism is on the wane. Luther called all Priests agents of the devil. Judge Rutherford teaches the same today. , I certainly absorbed the tradition as a boy.

One of my own earliest and most unreasonable efforts at versification was based upon a vague and instinctive suspicion of the “Roman Priest.” I was but fourteen at the time, and had no personal knowledge of Priests. Protestant novels, and perhaps tendencies inherited from remote ancestors, prompted these lines:—There was a Priest,

A wretched beast,

Quite subject to the Pope;

He’d cast his spell,

And threaten hell,

But never would use soap.

I record the words in a deep spirit of contrition, and as a groundless and sinful calumny for which perhaps I have somewhat atoned by becoming a Priest myself. But what I would like noted is that in each line save the first I managed to embody a definite characteristic of the dread being I thought I was describing-every Priest is an object of contempt, cringing and subservient, given to magic, trading on fear, and a complete stranger to the Englishman’s morning tub! How difficult for one with such impressions to imagine a Priest as the sanctifier of souls! And, above all, when the Priest is imagined as the supplanter of Christ.

People who labour under such a delusion should awaken, not indignation, but an immense and surging compassion in every Catholic heart. But I have said that such an attitude towards things Catholic is dying rapidly.

But I must return to our principles. The Catholic Priest is not the source of grace, but the channel of grace. Were the Priest the source of grace, his personal worthiness or unworthiness would affect his ministry. But Christ is the source of grace, dispensed by His own Priesthood operating through those whom He has called to receive it within themselves. And the Priest operates, not instead of Christ, but on behalf of Christ, and in the name of Christ. St. Paul describes the priestly office in the Church as being “for the perfecting of the saints, for the work of the ministry, for the building up of the body of Christ, until we all meet in the unity of faith, and that henceforth we be no more children tossed to and fro, and carried about with every wind of doctrine.” (Eph. iv., 12–14). The Church must conduct to their eternal salvation the souls of men. Her Priests must teach, preserve from error, and sanctify those entrusted to their care. So great is the scope of the Catholic Church. No one can wilfully ignore it, or refuse to comply with its requirements, without definite spiritual loss, and the endangering of his salvation.

IV

THE THREE GUARANTEES

That I obey the Catholic Church supposes an immense confidence in the trustworthiness of that Church as my guide. Is that confidence justified? At one time, of course, I thought that the last thins to be reposed in the Catholic Church was trust. The Catholic religion was to me the symbol of all that was disloyal, antisocial and decadent. The first two of these three notions are almost inevitable amongst Protestants. The third is prevalent amongst those who are particularly blind, and who are characterised by an almost total lack of thought upon the subject. Looking back now, I am able to analyse with some degree of clarity my typically Protestant obsessions.

The impression of Catholic disloyalty was due to both the nature of Catholicism itself and to my own extraordinary confusion of religion with national patriotism. If a man is taught and becomes firmly convinced that loyalty to the king demands acceptance of the religion of the king, then he is bound to think those who reject the religion of the king to be disloyal. And then, too, it is a fact that Catholicism, as an international religion, cannot be subject to any individual earthly rulers. My ideas of the anti-social character of Catholicism arose from the fact that I attended as a boy a large city state school. Amongst the hundreds at that school, as far as I remember, there was but one boy who was known to be a Catholic. As a body we were all Protestants. Catholic boys would pass our school, and go on further to a school of their own. They were a class apart. However wrong my ideas on the subject, there was some reason behind the impression of the anti-social character of Catholicism. Catholics would associate neither with the irreligion of our State schools nor with the religion of our churches. Thai this was due to some wrong element in our schools and churches I did not then, of course, realise. That the Catholic Church was doomed to decay was an impression due solely to tradition, and to an obvious blindness to the continual growth and activity of the Church in all spheres, educational and charitable.

In this analysis I have been led to indicate three out standing characteristics of Catholicism. I call them the “Three Guarantees,” guarantees which Christ included in the very charter He gave to His Church. The Church established by Him was to be independent of every other earthly society; infallible in its guidance; and indestructible, quite unable to decay from within, or be suppressed from without. Let us take each of these three guarantees in turn.

The Catholic Church is a society independent of any other social organisation in this world. New South Wales is a State society, with its own State laws and governing body. But it is an integral part of the Commonwealth. It is not completely independent and self-sufficient. The United States of America is a complete and independent society. It needs, certainly, the help of other nations by trade relations; but it has its own proper constitution and regulates its own right to secure what it deems necessary to its well-being. The Catholic Church is a complete and independent society in this latter sense. It is independent of all other societies, subject in no way to their jurisdiction. Such independence appears chiefly in the character of .a society’s ruling power. Does the prince, governor or administrator owe allegiance to any other power? That is the end of real independence. Now the Catholic Church has defined that the Pope has supreme jurisdiction over the faithful. There can be no appeal to any authority higher than his. And in the matter of Church affairs, no civil authority has the right to define the limits within which she must confine her activities.

I am sure that it is not difficult to see how such claims cannot but arouse the indignation of ardent Protestants. Protestantism has always shown an immense respect for, and subservience to, civil authority. To them the Catholic claims seems outrageous. They denounce this independence. I have just read a Protestant booklet on the solution of the “Roman Question,” proving to the author’s satisfaction that the Pope is undoubtedly “The Beast,” lustful of power, because he refuses to be a subject of Italian civil authority, and has at last secured an acknowledged independence. At the time of my conversion to the Church,the “Ne Temere” dispute was in full swing in Australia. The whole trouble was simply that the Catholic Church here in Australia regarded her legislation concerning the Sacrament of Marriage as independent of and unaffected by any legislation to the contrary made by a civil parliament. In America, this Catholic claim to independence was made the stock argument against the candidature of Al. Smith for the presidency, and the charge that it was impossible for a Catholic to be loyal succeeded in defeating his cause.

And yet, this aspect of independence is one that most appeals to all who can think sanely on the question. A parliament consisting of Catholics, Protestants, Jews and complete unbelievers, which can prescribe the doctrines and services of Anglicanism, rejecting as unsuitable a prayer-book sanctioned by the Anglican Bishops, provokes smiles the world over. And such a state of affairs is the logical outcome of the denial of independence. Such a denial, too, is so opposed to the very concept of the true Church of Christ. How can that Church be subject to any civil power when no civil power had anything to do with its” origin? Christ certainly founded His Church independently of any civil power. He simply said, “All power is given to Me in heaven and on earth.” He did not even consult civil authority. He bade his apostles go and teach all nations. And far from accepting authority from earthly rulers, they were to ignore any legislation opposed to their mission.

The charge of disloyalty was bound to come. And Our Lord said clearly, “They shall deliver you up to councils- you shall stand before governors and kings for my sake.” Mk. xiii., 9. Catholics will be forced to cry at times, “We ought to obey God rather than man!” Acts v., 29. After all, since the purpose of the Church is to guide men to heaven, and no natural and human legislation can do that, her legislative power must be independent of human parliaments. Then, too, being universal, she cannot adapt herself to every whim and caprice of local human legislation. The Catholic Church, therefore, has the right given her by God to exist anywhere, and freely to fulfil her duties. She must be legally free, and any civil legislation opposed to her mission is simply invalid and not binding in conscience.

If this principle leads to the persecution of the Church, it is due to the false principle of her adversaries that all things are under the control of Caesar, and that there are no rights independent of civil power. Even religion must be but an aspect of patriotism, and the Church a branch of the civil service. It won’t do. I am a Catholic precisely because my religion has to do with God, and must be independent of any earthly allegiance. Yet I am not less patriotic than those who talk much of patriotism, but who know not how to distinguish between the things that belong to God and those to which Caesar may rightly lay claim.

If independence, however, was included in the charter of the Catholic Church as a thing to be guaranteed by Christ, so, too, was infallibility. This was simply a gift of God by which the Church, through the perpetual assistance of the Holy Spirit, is preserved from teaching error in matters of faith and morals. In other words, the true Church of Christ issues instructions of which it is quite certain. And Catholics naturally insist upon learning those instructions, and as decidedly refuse to follow guides who ignore or contradict them.

And if those instructions cannot be learned in State schools, and are violated in Protestant churches, Catholics sedulously keep away from both State schools and Protestant churches. In a Protestant environment, where Catholics are in the minority, the majority are almost bound to cry out, “Be sociable. Come with us!” Catholics cannot do so, and what I once believed to be the anti-social character of Catholicism is really the penalty of infallibility. Such a claim, of course, appeared to me in my Protestant days to be arrogant assumption; the death of free thought and human liberty; and anyway quite opposed to facts.

I did not know much about such things then. But I laboured under the idea that the Catholic Church simply conferred upon herself any prerogatives she wished-which would be arrogance. I had no knowledge of her humble admission that she had no power to give herself anything, and that all she had, she had to receive from Christ.

I did not see that all freedom implies restriction. No one can be free in all directions. If I am free from error I am “shackled” by truth. The conviction that the world is a globe takes away my freedom to believe it flat. My freedom from gaol means that I am content to submit to the restraint of civil law. The normal man does not want to be free to fall into error, or to go to gaol. But multitudes are not normal where religion is concerned. They denounce interference with their liberty to believe any absurd error in this matter. And as an infallible church takes away the freedom to think erroneously, they won’t have it. But this view did not occur to me in the days when I entertained the strange notion that Catholicism meant the death of free thought, a phrase which sounded a glorious vindication of human liberty, yet which really meant simply freedom from thinking at all where religion was concerned.

That infallibility was opposed to facts was a theory linked with my school-day history of Joan of Arc. The Catholic Church burned her as a witch and then turned right round and canonised her as a Saint. My “fact,” of course, was not a fact. The Church did not condemn Joan. A renegade Catholic Bishop, in the pay of the English, did so; but his action was not in accordance with, but a violation of the laws of the Church. Within the lifetime of Joan’s own mother, Pope Callixtus III had declared her mock trial null and void, and rehabilitated her reputation and orthodoxy. But our school histories did not tell us that.

If, however, at one time I felt rather appalled by the arrogant claim to infallibility, today I would be appalled did the true Church not make such a claim. A fine sort of a guide to our eternal destiny would have been given us by God if that guide had to admit that she was not sure of the way herself! As has been so often pointed out, the Church was endowed by Christ with the essential notes of unity, holiness, catholicity, and apostolicity. The One, Holy, Catholic, Apostolic Church is an expression familiar to all. Yet not one of these characteristics could persevere were not the Church infallible. Unity would soon go if the Church could teach erroneous doctrine; the sin of heresy would deprive her of her essential holiness as an institution; the separation of groups would destroy utterly the catholicity of—one single Church; and the self-same faith and authority derived from the Apostles would be lost. Anyway, Christ included the gift of infallibility in the charter of His Church. His promise that the gates of hell, or the forces of evil, would never prevail against His Church can only mean that His Church will last just such as He established it, ever retaining the faith He committed to her care. His promise of the perpetual presence of the Holy Spirit, and that He Himself would be with her “all days even till the end of the world” suppose also infallibility, or inability to teach a doctrine which is not identical with principles laid down by Himself. Above all it is inconceivable that Christ would send a church to teach all nations, putting an obligation upon all nations to be taught by her, and even making eternal salvation dependent upon one’s submission to His Church, saying, “He who does not believe will be condemned,” if that Church could possibly teach doctrines in conflict with His!

I turn to my last thought of days gone by, that the Catholic Church is but a decaying relic of medieval times. I was familiar with the view that she is a purely human organisation, bound to collapse in due time. But the facts are against this idea completely when one looks into them. The fact that she is still standing is proof enough that she is bound to last. Not of itself, of course. But when I consider her teachings, her difficult moral obligations, and the obstacles she has met and overcome, I am certain that no natural reasons can account for her vitality. She demands so much that human nature dislikes. I can find a reason for the perseverance of pagan religions, or for Mohammedanism, or for Protestantism. Man is naturally religious, and deprived of Catholicity, will have some form of religion. But in substitute religions most of the things difficult for human nature have been abolished. No religion on earth demands the consistent virtue, the humility, mortification and rigid duty to God imposed by Catholicism. But we have merely to turn to the Gospels to discover the secret. Christ’s promise of the perseverance of the Church to the end of the world is enough. Her vitality is not linked with any natural factors, nor even with the zeal, wisdom and virtue of her members, whether clerical or lay. It is based upon the divine protection promised by Christ.

Foolish in the extreme are the thoughts of those who imagine that the general disruptive forces of these times can threaten the existence of the Catholic Church. To doubt is to doubt the promises of Christ. And, anyway, the Catholic Church has been through worse times than those of to-day, and where empires and civil governments have crashed, she has ever survived with renewed vigour and vitality. The Catholic Church is still here, and with a glad heart I accept from that Church just the same instructions as she has been giving to humanity for the last 2,000 years-instructions the worth of which is guaranteed, if by nothing else, by the Saints of the centuries, who, though wayfarers like myself, have attained with certainty the heaven we all wish to see. And as there is no reason why the Christian of the 20th century should be dispensed from all that was necessary for the Christian of the 10th, but every reason why he should have to submit to exactly the same conditions of salvation, so in the 30th century, or the 300th century, should the world last so long, the Catholic Church will still be there, dispensing the same information and prescribing the same essential conditions to all who apply to her for that instruction and guidance they cannot safely do without. The Catholic Church is indestructible. She cannot fail.

Thus “The Three Guarantees,” Independence, In fallibility and Indestructibility, are stamped upon the charter of the Catholic Church, given her by the Christ, the Son of the Living God. And under her control, I am able to render to God the things that are God’s; I am preserved from all freedom to make vital mistakes; and I inherit a firm hope of that immortality in heaven which she alone reflects upon earth.

V

OBEYING THE CHURCH

After all that I have said about the establishing of the Catholic Church by Christ, the commission He gave to her, and the guarantees with which He endowed her, it should not be surprising to learn that wayfarers to eternity have an obligation to submit to her directions. If they are obliged to save their souls, they are also obliged to take the means with which God has provided them for this purpose.

It is necessary, then, that men should join the Catholic Church. Before I became a Catholic, I knew that the Church did make exclusive claims, though I did not see their force, and thought it most intolerant, with the consequent doctrine that outside the Catholic Church there is no salvation. Why should all Protestants be lost? I had no idea at that time of the true position. It is certain, of course, that Christ must insist upon our joining the true Church. His very command that we must “hear the Church” indicates a grave obligation. And if He says, “He who despises you, de- spises Me, and he who despises Me despises Him that sent Me,” we are forced to the conclusion that contempt of His Church is contempt of Almighty God. And His Church happens to be the Catholic Church. How could anyone knowingly and wilfully refusing to join the Catholic Church hope for salvation whilst continuing in such dispositions? Once a man has sufficiently perceived that the Catholic Church is indeed the true Church of Christ, he has no means of salvation apart from that Catholic Church. I know that in my own case now I would simply forfeit my hope of salvation did I leave her. My eternal welfare is bound up with my strict fidelity to her.

But what I failed to notice in my nonCatholic days was the sense of the words “knowingly and wilfully.” God will not blame a man for anything for which he is not responsible. If a man is faithful to his conscience and dies repenting of his sins, he at least dies with the will to do God’s Will, and if he does not demand reception into the Catholic Church, it can only be because he does not advert to the fact that such is God’s Will. In this case, God will take his will for the deed as far as adherence to the Catholic Church is concerned, and he will be judged on other factors. On the supposition that all is well in other directions, he will certainly be saved in spite of his not professing the Catholic faith. Yet the fact remains that the Catholic Church is a society necessary for the salvation of all those who have ever received the grace to discern the truth of her claims to be the divinely authorised guide of mankind in matters pertaining to religion.

Whether any given individual has attained to the required interior conviction necessary to render his separation from -the visible Church gravely sinful no man has the right to say. God alone can read the hearts of men. I know that I certainly have such a degree of conviction. But I cannot say that any single Protestant still outside the Church has actually attained to a similar conviction, and is guilty of grave sin by his refusal to submit to the Church.

I think it was R. H. Benson, himself a convert to the Church, who ventured to express an opinion concerning G. K. Chesterton. Chesterton had written much with a very Catholic tone prior to his conversion. Benson remarked once, “1 do not think Chesterton will ever become a Catholic.” Chesterton became a Catholic later, when he was conscious of his obligation. No one can safely judge as to the mental state of another. And Catholics are forbidden to judge concerning the responsibility of Protestants before God. Robert Hugh Benson, of course, had no desire to judge rashly concerning the possible moral guilt of Chesterton. He was interested in the problem of conversions, and was expressing his opinion that not always those who seem nearest to Catholicism are amongst those who are actually converted.

I suppose it seems paradoxical to say that some people are too close to Catholicism to be really near it. Yet in a way that is true. In my own experience with converts I have always found it much easier to instruct the man who bluntly declares himself to be a Protestant rather than the High-Church Anglican who has thought himself to be a Catholic, and boasts that he has little to change and still less to gain by becoming a Catholic in actual fact, submitting to the jurisdiction of the Pope. He is so wrapped up in external, similarities to Catholicism that he is far less likely .to advert to the obligation of submission to the true Church than the plain blunt Protestant. And from this point of view, though apparently closer, he is much farther removed from Catholic obedience.

Obedience is most essential. We went from God by disobedience. The only way back is to retrace our steps by obedience. And if religion is to get us back, the essential thing in the true religion must be obedience. And it is certainly the essential thing in the Catholic religion. Since the Church is a society with an organised hierarchical constitution, she must possess authority to rule her subjects. And the power to rule must include the power to ma ke laws, to judge concerning the observance of those laws, and to enforce those laws by suitable penalties. The civil State could not get on without a legislative body, a court of justice, and a penitentiary. And the Church is not less a selfcontained society than any national civil State.

I scarcely know of any other aspect of the Catholic Church which is so alien to the Protestant mind. Most Protestants are horrified by the authoritative manner of the Catholic Church. The idea that Catholics “have to do this” or are “forbidden to do that” is sufficient condemnation of the whole Catholic system for them. And the idea of an obligation of obedience to their own ministers scarcely ever enters their heads. It certainly did not enter my own.

At one time, many years ago now, I was attending an early Mass at a Catholic Church and going to a later service in an Anglican Church. The rector was a very good man, and told me that I “couldn’t do it.” .He gave as his reason that, whilst he did not mind much, those Catholics who might see me at Mass and later entering the Anglican Church would be most disedified. It would be a scandal which he could not permit. But his forbidding me to do it carried no weight at all. When, however, I saw things at last through Catholic eyes, the fact that the Catholic Church forbade my attendance at the Anglican service was a very different matter. For it is a fact that Christ gave His true Church the authority to make laws binding us in conscience, to judge concerning their observance, and to enforce their observance.

“Whatever you bind on earth is bound in heaven” gave her the right to legislate according to the neces sities of the times in which she exists. The basic constitution of civil society does not obviate the necessity of particular laws in particular circumstances. So, too, in the Church. If Protestantism arises in the 16th century, the Church can make laws to preserve her children from the contagion of Protestantism. If Communism asserts itself in the 20th century, she can forbid her subjects to have anything to do with Communism. And she has judicial power.

“Tell the Church, and if a man will not hear the Church, let him be as the heathen.” The Church has the right to judge. For legislative power is absurd without the power to decide practical cases. Imagine a State with legislative power only, yet with no courts for the administration of its laws!

Nor is it enough to be able to say, “You are innocent” or “You are guilty.” There must be coercive power, a power to prevent continuance in what has been judged to be wrong conduct.

I am not a Bishop in the Catholic Church. I have “no axe to grind” in maintaining these powers in the Church, for they are powers to which I have to submit, not powers which I am commissioned to exercise. I am not a “ruler” in the Church.-But I state the simple truth because it is the truth.

St. Paul was a Catholic Bishop. He knew what authority he had received from Christ, and he did not hesitate to use it. He legislated, judged, and punished.

He wrote to the Corinthians in his first Epistle, “What will you? Shall I come to you with a rod? Or in the spirit of meekness?” I. Cor. iv., 21. He gave them their choice between obedience and disobedience. But some of them took his threat of severity too lightly, and in his second Epistle he wrote, “Men say that I threaten in my epistles, but that my bodily presence is weak and contemptible. But what I am in my epistle when absent, that I will be when present. It is not wrong of me to insist upon powers which the Lord hath given us for your edification, and not for your destruction.” II. Cor. x., 8–11. In the same epistle he adds, “I tell those who sinned before, and all the rest, that if I come again, I will not spare” (xiii., 2). He excommunicated the incestuous Corinthian without a scruple. He ordered the Thessalonians, “If any man obey not our word by this epistle, note that man, and do not enter into his company, that he may be ashamed.” II. Thess. iii., 14. How unlike anything to be found in Protestantism it all is! And yet how Catholic!

Through the ages the Church has been conscious of this power. She is conscious of it today. I know that if, as a Priest, I rebel against the laws of the Church, I am quite liable to be brought before the ecclesiastical courts, and to be suspended or excommunicated. I know that the Church has the right to impose penances, which are but penalties, such as fasting, almsgiving, prayers, or pilgrimages. She has even the right to appeal to the civil power in Catholic countries to support and enforce her legislation, if her spiritual authority fails to do so. And if any Church be not conscious of such powers, I know that it forfeits all claim to its being the Church Christ established.

But a most practical conclusion follows. We Catholics owe obedience in thought, word and deed to the laws of the Catholic Church. She has not only the duty to teach and instruct us. She has the duty to rule and control our conduct. She has not only to tell us what to believe. She has the duty to tell us what to do. If she had not that authority it would be impossible for her to maintain unity and discipline. In his book, “The Things That Are Not Caesar’s,” Maritain, a layman, rightly says that the virtue of obedience extends not only to the express commands of the Church, but also to her counsels and advice. Taking lightly her recommendations in matters of education, prohibited books, and such kindred matters, even where explicit censures are not ignored, always implies a diminishing of faith and a fault of disobedience.” A filial spirit of obedience is essential in a good Catholic, based upon the conviction that whatever injures the Church injures Christ.

However acute the human opposition, the programme of Catholics in every department of life, even from the social standpoint, should be characterised by unqualified adhesion to every Catholic direction. This is not a matter for Priests and Religious only. It is a matter for every single member of the Catholic Church. We shall participate in all that Christ promised through the Church according to the degree of our submission to the Church. And we must submit to the laws of the Church, because they happen to be the laws of the Church, not basing our obedience to these laws upon our own approval of them, thinking ourselves free to disobey, when we think them perhaps unwise. That implies an act of confidence in our own judgment, but no faith in the Church. It is the Protestant, not the Catholic outlook.

If I obey, it must be not because the wisdom or prudence of ecclesiastical legislation appeals to me, but because of the authority of Christ, vested in His Church. Nor is the Church obliged to give me the reasons why she has thus legislated. Once she makesa law it binds me in virtue of obedience by the very fact that she has made it. “He who hears you hears Me” is the clear doctrine of Christ, and He has also said, “He who is not with Me is against Me.” The conclusion remains that he who is not with the Catholic Church is equally against Christ, unknowingly in the case of Protestants, but knowingly and guiltily in the case of those who profess the Catholic Faith.

For two thousand years the Catholic Church has been conducting souls to their eternal destiny. She knows every inch of the ground; and the Saints, who have most carefully followed her directions, are a living guarantee of her reliability. We Catholics accept her guidance in this twentieth century, but we must remember that she is the guide. Our safety and ultimate arrival at the destination we hope to reach depend upon our obedience to instructions. He who obeys the Church in all her precepts and recommendations will never be lost.

Nihil Obstat:

R. C. PEOPLES Censor Deputatus.

Imprimatur:

@ MICHAEL

Archiep. Sydneyensis. May 19, 1934.

********

I Use The Sign of The Cross

BAKEWELL MORRISON, S.J

INDEX

WE very literally “stand -up for” the Gospel at Mass. We “stand-up for” the Creed, too. We are making signs when we do these things. These are the little acts of worship which signify, which have a meaning. We talk with our whole body really. We talk without words often enough, talk by a frown or a smile. And best of all, we talk to and of God, to ourselves and to all the world, when we “make the Sign of the Cross”-even without words to go along with the sign.

In a mild sense we are doing part of a ritual dance, as Robert Hugh Benson noted so effectively in his Papers of a Pariah. Why not? David danced in worship before the Ark.

I use the Sign of the Cross. I make it to bless myself. To do this well I need often enough to refresh my mind by recalling aptly what I have always known, and what, maybe, I have grown too familiar with. I need to stimulate my will with the hope of things to come. I need to enkindle my charity so that, as I make the sacred sign, I really look closer at God and at my fellows, and grow spiritually toward them all. And so I can renew my knowledge of my Faith and its dogmas and history.

How, then, do we so frequently talk with one sign? Why do we bless ourselves with the Sign of the Cross? We really do it because there is something in our minds and hearts to which we wish to give expression with our hands, with our faces, with our bodies. We humans are that way. If we feel something, we show it; or, if we do not show it, we are somehow restraining ourselves, disciplining ourselves, “under wraps.”

Of course, we can render exterior acts meaningless by routine. But this dampening of our feelings, this admitting to our actions of the dullness of routine, ought really not be permitted ourselves when we make the Sign of the Cross. That blessing is too live an action. It involves too much feeling, too much thought, to be sunk into the lethargy or the apathy of a religious symbol allowed to decay. We just cannot afford to allow the supremely urgent Trinity to see us talk with a sign that is lifeless, to hear us talk without meaning in the Sign of the Cross.

Indeed, in blessing ourselves, we are really addressing the Trinity. The Trinity! Is there anything we do not owe the Trinity? God, our Father, Who created us; and God, the Son, Who redeemed us; and God, the Holy Spirit, Who sanctifies and energizes us!

WE CALL ON GOD

“In the name of . . .” we say. That is an invocation. We call up someone, that is an evocation. We call up the very God of all. Men invoke, they call upon; men evoke, they call out “spirits” when they do this; men tremble at their audacity. We Christians can hardly let this invocation, this calling on, this evocation, this calling up and calling out be a mere formality. In the dark and tremulous memories of men—so say anthropologists—the name is continually found standing in the sense of person. And St. Thomas Aquinas says it more happily, we think: “The cause which confers the fullness of spiritual strength is the holy Trinity. . . . We call on, we call up that cause when we say: “In the name of. . . .

Naming is serious business.We “name” a baby; and, forever after, that baby has become for us a definite, labelled person. Gangsters “put the finger on” another; they “name” him. And he is in for something indeed. And everyone knows how effective it is to remember the name of the one we address.

Catholic nations used to preface treaties “In the name of the Holy Trinity” to show their good faith and trembling hopes of peace under the name of God. Some Catholic nations, such as Ireland, still do. “In the name of . . : “ personalizes; it calls on the living and energizing person.

BE THOUGHTFUL HERE

We go on, then, “In the name of. . . .

Somehow we make contact with the person and the power of the one named. In this case, we make contact with the power of God, the Three-inOne “ . . . The Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.”

I am God’s creature, God’s child, God’s son and I go forward calling Him up with this evocation, at His command and under His direction, with His protection. I am Christ’s member and I go forth at this invocation to do in m way what He does stupendously in His. I am one who “in the Spirit” speaks and acts. I exercise and I work. Alone, I might never turn my thoughts or my actions to such mighty things as spiritual realities, such as my God, my Redeemer. Alone, I might be frightened too much, awed too thoroughly, silenced too utterly by the profundity of God, mysterious, the Three-in-One. I might even not want to think of this God, so real, so personal, so intimate, so actual.

But I am bidden to start everything “In the name of. . . .

And I do. I almost smother myself with the Sign of the Cross- that is, I bless myself so often-and I continually express myself “In the name” of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.” I sign my heart, my lips, my forehead, I sign the book. I sign others and I sign things. It ought not strain my imagination to wake to my mind’s eye the instances when I daily and routinely make the Sign of the Cross. And always “In the name of. . . .

THE TRINITY, THE CROSS AND GRACE

St.Paul spoke grandly and so often of the grace of God; and he has referred grace to the three divine Persons: “The Gift of the Father; the Life of Christ, Who was dead and rose; the Sanctification of the Spirit, Who is the efficiency and the presence of the three ineffable Persons. Yet all the acts of the Trinity are most mysteriously the acts of God.

It is true, of course, as theologians show us in their proper terminology, that God Himself teaches us in the Scriptures to speak of the three divine Persons according to “appropriation.” We are obliged to express ourselves inadequately because of our weakness of comprehension and the shallowness of our human thought and the emptiness of ourselves “as of ourselves.” There is the Son to reign by His death and in His life, which He communicates to us. There is the Holy Spirit to be in His Gift. Each is present in His own way: the Father, as Father and Creator: “God, the Father Almighty, Creator of heaven and earth”; the Son as Sovereign and Saviour: “and in Jesus Christ, His only Son, our Lord”; the Holy Spirit as making holy and energizing us: “And in the Holy Spirit, Lord and life-giving. . . .” Unto each just soul, where the whole Trinity dwells, each Person comes with his personal character.

The Father comes into our soul without being “sent”; and He comes as Father, making us His children. He has the su- preme initiative.

The Son comes; but He is “sent by the Father,” and He comes as the Word, Incarnate, making of us His mystical members, expanding His Mystical Body which is somehow the prolongation of His humanity.

The Holy Spirit comes there, sent by the Father and the Son. Of them He is the Love, the Gift, the Bond; and He comes as a personal Gift Who contains the Gift of the two other Persons, as the bond that attaches us to the Trinity.

The Father adopts us in adopting us to His Son. And the Son incorporates us into Himself in “breathing into us” the vivifying Spirit. Thus we grow and thus we are incorporated. Thus we can better see and understand what we mean and intend to express when “In the name of .” we make the Sign of the Cross.

Whatever our piety be, we cannot afford to overlook or minimize these dogmas of our God. “Trinity Sunday,” says Fr. Martindale, “can be regarded by us, if we like, more as a solemn commemoration of the dogma than directly of the Three Persons that are in God.” And he reminds us of the high utility of that dogma for us, “for we have no right to forget any of our dogmas, certainly not on the grounds that they are too high for us.”

The individual’s, that is, your prayer and mine, may unfortunately neglect the fundamental triune aspect of the Godhead. But the liturgy, the really “official” prayer of the Church does not. The Sign of the Cross is made again and again in the Holy Sacrifice and in the sacraments and in the Office or Breviary, which are all liturgical rites. The Sign of the Cross “epitomizes” the whole doctrine and efficacy of the redemption, wrought in the name of the blessed Trinity:

THE TEACHING OF THE CROSS

The cross -the Sign of the Cross-was a way, for the early Christians, of teaching about the Holy Trinity and of practice in the hallowed use of the Three-in-One. This sign decided right and wrong, it told and showed how to pray and worship, it was the usable token of all Christians that was carried in the heart. “God .so loved the world . . .” that He gave us the Cross! The Trinity-Father, Son, and Holy Spirit in multiplied mystery- was teaching by this sign, teaching while telling us in the words and acts of Christ the revealed and redeeming truth, the very beginnings of our salvation.

But before this sign could triumph, it had its bloody initiation. On that Cross, Christ was taunted while the soldiers divided His garments and drew lots for His unseamed tunic: “Save thyself, come down from the Cross!.” That the soldiers said. The bigwigs, who were really doing Him to death, they said to one another: “He saved others. Himself He cannot save. Let Christ, the King of Israel, come down from the Cross that we may see and believe.”

St. Paul found the folly of the Cross to be real. “I judged not myself to know anything among you, but Jesus Christ and Him crucified. . . . Unto the Jews indeed a stumbling block, and unto the Gentiles foolishness.” Paul had tried at Athens to be wise with the wise. He had tried to argue. He had proposed likeness or analogy to their own beliefs, their “super- stitions.” He had proposed the Resurrecion. And he failed.

But when he raised the Cross of Christ, as other Crusaders in their time were to learn, he won. The mystery of the Cross, the theology of the Cross, Christ on the Cross ! This fact was felt to be at the heart of the Church. It was telling. But it had to be etched in, to be loved in the heart of the Christian. It was so. thoroughly felt that later piety wrote such poignant prose-poetry as this ascribed to St. Andrew, the Apostle-and later patron of Scotland, for example, and of Russia-who was reported to have said just before his own martyrdom on the cross of his executioners: “Hail, Cross, which has been consecrated by the body of Christ. . . . Cross, long desired and dearly loved, unceasingly sought after, and now at last prepared for my soul which desires you, receive me and give me back to my Master, so that He may receive methrough thee who hath redeemed me through thee.”

And the faithful still can feel the tug at their hearts at this imagined elegy of a great lover of the Christ who gave the cross.

BLESSING OF A CROSS

The cross has its history as a sacramental in the Church. It is one of the many sacred signs of Christianity. It is one of those signs-lesser than the great seven signs, the sacraments of the Church-which are still signs of singular worth and power. These lesser signs, these sacramentals, these actions and things which the faithful love to observe, to do, to say, to use, while their hearts grow warm at their using, are healthy and very wise. They are fruitful little “industries” for bringing us a little closer to God and to His Church.

Hear how the Church expresses her thoughts when she solemnly blesses a cross in her ritual. “O God, Who has changed the gibbet of the cross, once for criminals in their punishments, to be for your redeemed the sign of salvation, grant your people to be well protected by its help as often as that people is rallied by its standard; let it serve as a plea for earnestness of hope; may it be a foundation of faith, a defence against all comers, a sound help to goodness. May this cross (which we, your Church’s ministers and sons are blessing) be victory against our foes, a safeguard for our towns, a guarantee for our lands, the sound protection and support for our homes so that through its might The Shepherd (of souls) may keep well his flock-this sign which for us, while the Lamb of God conquers, is changed (from being an ignominious thing) to be a sign of safety.”

THE CRUCIFIX

The Ritual speaks of the blessing of a new cross or crucifix. It is possible to be mildly confused over the word cross. The Catholic Dictionary tells us clearly enough that “A cross on which the figure of our Lord is painted, carved or otherwise represented” is a crucifix. And it adds that “whenever a cross is referred to in connection with the Catholic liturgy (e.g., an altar cross) a crucifix is to be understood.”

I BLESS MYSELF

We have been asking: “Why do we Christians so often and so obviously make the Sign of the Cross, and what is the dogma? And we are seeing something of the efficiency which the Church hopes we will introduce, or increase, in our own usuage. We might right now try making the Sign of the Cross on ourselves, first remembering the purifying and cleansing meaning of the salt which has been tinged into the holy water, at its blessing. We first dip our fingers in the blessed and blessingwater. Then we make the sign and say the words. Cardinal Newman has notable verses on the sign. “Whene’er across this sinful flesh of mine I draw the sacred sign, All good thoughts stir within me, and renew Their slumbering strength divine; Till there springs up a courage high and true to suffer and to do. And who shall say, but hateful spirits around, For their brief hour unbound, Shudder to see, and wail their overthrow? While on far heathen ground Some lonely saint hails the fresh odour, though Its source he cannot know” (Verses on Various Occasions, xxvii Oxford, 1832) .

OUR OWN USE

We can, as we all too well know, grow weary at our prayers. We can become suspicious of vain repetitions, as they may be dubbed. Yet Pius XII so strongly urges us to remember that “progress in the Christian life does not consist in the multiplicity and variety of prayers and exercises of piety, but rather in their helpfulness towards spiritual progress of the faithful and constant growth of the Church universal.”

So we may well try to make the simple Sign of the Cross be in a way the first of prayers, and have it spring into luxuriant meaning. Then with this tiny prayer of words and a sign we mightily increase in understanding and so grow in force of will. We do need right constantly to remember: “It is not he that says, “Lord, Lord!” But he that does the will of My Father !” And, if our wills are to be at one with God’s, our intellects are to be rich and well stored from God’s, knowing the faith and hope that is in us,and eager for God’s charity.

There must be no opposition between the action of God, Who pours forth His grace into the hearts of men so that the work of the Redemption may always abide and the tireless collaboration of man, who must not render vain the gift of God.

A CATECHISM ON THE SIGN OF THE CROSS

There is a catechism model of how the great Trinitarian doctrine is to be appreciated for its utmost utility. A saint, a doctor of the Church and a very simple man-St. Robert Bellarmine, S.J.-wrote a catechism for the children of the diocese of which he was Archbishop: “for the use of those who teach the catechism to children and to other simple people.” His biographer tells us that it would be difficult to name any other book, excepting the Bible and the Imitation of Christ, which went round the world so rapidly and became familiar to so many different races.

We can judge its usefulness by hearing what this holy man says in his catechism.

THE SIGN OF THE CROSS

“PUPIL: Please give me a brief account of the more important mysteries contained in the Creed. “TEACHER: There are two principal mysteries of our faith, and both are included in that sign which we call the Sign of the Cross. The first is the unity and trinity of God. The second is the Incarnation and Death of the Saviour. “PUPIL: What is meant by the unity and trinity of God?

“TEACHER: These are very deep truths and the explanation of them is a very slow process. For the time being, however, it will be enough to learn just the names, and a very little bit more. The unity of God means that besides all created things there is one thing that had no beginning. It has always been and it will always be. It has made all others things, and it supports them and governs them. It is the highest, noblest, most beautiful, most powerful, the absolute master of every thing; and this being is called God. There is just one God. There can be only one true Divinity, that is, one nature, one essence infinitely powerful, wise, good, and so forth. Nevertheless, this Divinity is found in three persons that are called the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. These three persons are just one God because they have the same Divinity, the same essence. As, for example, if three persons here on earth, named Peter, Paul, and John, had the same body and the same soul, they would remain three persons; because one would be Peter, and another Paul, and another John. Nevertheless, there would be just one man, not three men, there not being three bodies and three souls, but just one body and one soul. Such a state of affairs is not possible among men, because the being of men is little and finite, so it cannot be in many persons. But the being of God, the Divinity of God, is infinite. The same being, the same Divinity is found in the Father, in the Son, and in the Holy Spirit. There are, then, three persons because one is the Father, the second is the Son, and the third is the Holy Spirit, and there remains nevertheless just one God, because these persons have the same being, the same power, wisdom, goodness, and so forth.

“PUPIL: Now tell me what is meant by the Incarnation and Death of the Saviour.

“TEACHER: The second divine person, whom we have called the Son, besides his divine being, which he had before the world was created, indeed from all eternity,—this second person took for himself a human body and a human soul, that is, our whole human nature, in the womb of a most pure virgin. Thus he who was at first just God now began to be both God and man. After living among men for 33 years, during which time he taught the way of salvation and worked many miracles, at last he let himself be crucified, and on the Cross he died to make satisfaction to God for the sins of the whole world. After three days he rose from death to life, and after 40 days he ascended into heaven, as we say in the article of the Creed. That is what we mean by the Incarnation and Death of the Saviour.

“PUPIL: Why are these the principal mysteries of our faith?

“TEACHER: Because in the first is contained the first principle and last end of man; in the second we have the unique and most efficacious means of knowing that first principle and of arriving at that last end. And because by our belief in and confession of these two mysteries we are distinguished from all the false sects, from Turks, Jews, and heretics. And finally, because without believing and confessing these two mysteries, no one can be saved.

PUPIL: How are these two mysteries included in the Sign of the Cross?

“TEACHER: The Sign of the Cross is made saying: In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit; at the same time signing oneself in the form of a cross, putting the right hand to the forehead when one says: In the name of the Father, and then to the breast when one says: and of the Son, finally to the left and right shoulders when one says: and of the Holy Spirit. The words, in the Name, show the unity of God, because we say name and not names; and by name is meant the power, and the divine authority, which is one in all three persons. The words, of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, show the trinity of persons. Signing oneself in the form of a cross represents the Passion, and consequently the Incarnation, of the Son of God. Moving the hand from the left to the right, and not from the right to the left, means that by the Passion of Our Lord we are transferred from temporal to eternal things, from sin to grace, and from death to life.

“PUPIL: What is the effect of making the Sign of the Cross?

“TEACHER: First, it shows that we are Christians, that is, soldiers of our High Commander, Christ; because this sign is like a flag, or uniform which distinguishes the soldiers of Christ from all the enemies of Holy Church; from gentiles, Jews, Turks, and heretics. (He would now add: Communists.) Further, this sign is made to invoke the divine assistance in all our works. With it we summon the aid of the most Holy Trinity, through the Passion of the Saviour. Accordingly good Christians are accustomed to make the Sign of the Cross when they rise from bed, when they leave the house, when they sit at table to eat, when they are about to go to bed, and at the beginning of every action that they have to perform. Finally, this sign is made to arm oneself against every assault of the devil, because the devil is terrified by it, and flees from it, as of criminals when they encounter the sign of the police. Very often by means of this sign of the holy Cross man has escaped many evils, both spiritual and temporal, when he makes it with faith and confidence in the divine mercy and in the merits of Christ, our Lord.” Thus St. Robert Bellarmine taught.

HISTORY OF THE SIGN

We may note further points about this great sign of our salvation. It is well for us to know all we can about the Sign of the Cross. It has its history, and we know its grim initiation. There, where between heaven and earth, the God-Man hung on a cross, the redemption of mankind was having its last and most precious hour. Agonizingly fixed, Jesus Christ was firm in His stance. His arms were wide to receive and to embrace. His head was erect to mark the courage and leadership. He was giving us a sign-His sign-the Sign of the Cross.

Though His hands could not trace it for us, His whole being portrayed it for us. And so St. Paul could and did cry out: “O senseless Galatians, who hath bewitched you that you should not obey the truth; before whose eyes Jesus Christ hath been set forth, crucified among you?”

Crucified, all that He had said and all that He had done was finding its final portrayal in the sight of God and man, of angels. There the cross was rescued from being the most heart-breaking of the symbols of man. Thereafter it was to become in the hearts and minds of human beings the most strengthening and the most glorious of symbols, and the very initiation of all supernatural faith and hope and charity. Kings would glory in wearing the cross, and it would supplant the pagan tokens of fidelity, of advertisement; it would surmount the very eagles of Rome. It would be in this sign that men would conquer.

The earliest Christians had to feel their way and make their customs; and when the words and the acts of worship were not explicitly assigned by Our Lord and determined, as we see done in the “matter and form” of so many sacraments, the matter is left to the judgment of the Church. Art and even science combine to give us symbols, arbitrary but revealing when their secret is known. And so we find the Sign of the Cross in the Catacombs used as a symbol, where our “light-fleeing” fellows in the Faith taught with disguise the loved truths of their God.

The figure of the dolphin, curled around a trident, was such a disguise. This dolphin stood in their minds for the Cross of Christ, the tau- T -which is more evidently the sign of our redemption.

Archaeologists have uncovered for us one of the first recorded signs of the cross, a wicked, biting caricature, discovered on one of the Seven Hills of Rome, on the Palatine, and dated somewhere in the second century by the scientists. It is called a graffito. It is a marking, still visible, sketching on a stone, a roughly drawn crucified corpus with an ass’s head. Written beneath it is: “Alexamenos adores his god!” Under this scrawled taunt, Alexamenos, proud of his Faith, added his own scrawl: “Alexamenos is faithful.” He would not repudiate the Cross and he would make reparation in his heart and in his words for the insult to his Lord.

USE OF THE SIGN

The use of the Sign of the Cross grew, we are told, and its beginnings were not the big cross we use to bless ourselves but the little cross made with the thumb or with one finger-the cross with which we sign forehead and lips and heart when we “stand up for” the Gospel as it is about to be read. That was used early indeed and lovingly and everywhere it became a happy custom, quick to be received. The then sturdy African firebrand, Tertullian, was quick to point out the Christian habit of making the Sign of the Cross in the second century: “In all our travels and movements, in all our coming in and going out, in putting on our shoes, at the bath, at the table, in lighting our candles, in lying down, in sitting down, whatever employment occupieth us, we mark our foreheads with the Signof the Cross.”

Christians signed their beds. They signed their lips. And they developed their method of signing themselves with thumb or finger as the sign to confer a blessing on other objects and persons. They came quickly enough then to the Sign of the Cross that we now know so well, with hand open and all the fingers extended.

When a heresy about the person of Christ was rearing its ugly head, two fingers were used, the first and second (much as His Holiness is always shown with two fingers extruded when he blesses) to remind in heart and mind that Jesus Christ was possessed of two natures and two wills. Thus in every prayerful moment the soundly faithful were reminded to assert against the heretics, Eutyches and his monophysites, that the Second Person of the Trinity was God and Man, the GodMan, and, as the two used fingers noted (and but two were used), He had two natures and two wills. It was graphic teaching and wise pedagogy; and it was evidence of the way in which simple reminders, but constant ones, were so practically adopted to keep the heart and mind alert to the truth of Christ and alive with the love of the true Son of God. Our present day knowledge of salutary dogma may limp because we have somewhat deserted the meaning of the simpler pedagogy and practice of the earlier, more sign-minded Church.

MAKE THE SIGN PRAYERFULLY

Along around the year one thousand Aelfric, an Anglo-Saxon teacher of the Faith, as his name indicates, could scold and teach his congregation: “A man may wave about wonderfully with his hands without creating any blessing unless he make the Sign of the Cross. But if he do, the fiend will soon be frightened on account of the victorious token. With three fingers one must bless himself for the Holy Trinity.”

Our Lord had been challenged by the Pharisees: “Show us a sign from heaven.” He had indeed shown that sign. And His followers were constant in using it, making their knowledge a part of their actions and reinforcing their actions with the content of their knowledge. It was not lip-service they were giving but the service of the whole man as they began to embrace with the Sign of the Cross the whole person. The mystery of Christ and His cross was not to empty out the cross of Christ by meaningless rite and word; but to endorse, to refresh, to make live the very person of the Redeemer in the hearts of those who loved Him.

LEFT OR RIGHT

In the East, as is still the well-known custom, the bar of the Cross was made from right to left. That was the way.for very long in the West also. But the custom changed in the West.

In summary we can note that there is little doubt among the rubricists and lovers of the antiquities that long before the close of the middle ages the large Sign of the Cross, as we know it, was more commonly made in the West with the open hand and that the bar of the cross was traced from left to right.

A SAMPLE

There is a pleasant quotation from an old, old, English text that tells us .of the cross once more.

“And then ye bless you with,the sygne of the holy cross to chase away the fiend with all his deceytes. For, as

Chrysostome sayth, wherever the fiends see the sygne of the cross, they flye away dreading it as a staffe that they are beaten withal. And in thys blessing ye begin with youre hande at the heade downwarde and then to the lefte side and believe that our lord Jesu Christe came down from the head, that is from the Father into erthe by his holy Incarnation, and from the erthe into the left syde, that is hell, by his bitter Passion, and from thence into his Father’s right syde by his glorious Ascension.”

How very graphically the picture is painted for our imaginations. And were one to take a moment to study out the thought, the picture offers a rich suggestiveness. We are reminded, it is well to notice, of so much that the Church teaches

- of the Trinity, of course; of the fact that God became man, that He redeemed man, that He continues His work and promises all of heaven. If we make the sign intelligently, prayerfully, we would be reviewing our faith, renewing our hope, stimulating in a gentle fashion our charity.

THE WORDS WITH THE CROSS

Of course, just silently making the sign was notall of the Christian’s habit. Words were quickly fitted to the actions, or it can be that actions were fitted to the words. We are told that sometimes one was taught, as he traced the sign, to murmur, “The sign of Christ,” “The seal of the living God,” “In the name of Jesus.” Later on the words were varied further, “In the name of Jesus of Nazareth,” “In the name of the holy Trinity,” “Our help is in the name of the Lord.” This ejaculation we can verify as often as we notice how a priest, saying his office, in streetcar maybe as well as in Church before the Blessed Sacrament pauses, rests his book a moment and “blesses himself.” Then there is the cry: “O God, come to my assistance”; and finally we have the form which we recognize as fixed, “In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.” That last is found in the formula for baptism in Matthew’s gospel: “I baptize you. . . .” It is rich indeed, as we have noted from St. Robert Bellarmine’s catechism.

This Christian sign was already well known when Constantine’s legions saw it and, heartened, heeded it to victory. The cross indeed triumphed in the emancipation of the Church that was begun by Constantine and never really ceased, even to these latter days; just as it shall never cease “even to the end of the world.”

WATCH HOW

Today, then, let us stand and watch at the door of the church as Catholics come in. They dip their hands in the holy water stoop and sign themselves. They genuflect and go into a pew for a “visit” and a prayer. Let us study a bit what they do.

There is holy water used. (Take water and a pinch of salt and a blessing by the priest and we have holy water—itself no insignificant sacramental.) The great symbol of cleansing and the purification and preservation is used as one clears one’s mind of worldliness and confusion in order to reach out appealing to God, the Father of all faith and fatherhood. That symbol is traced as one washes and preserves-it’s salty-one’s heart and affections by touching the breast with the hallowed water and attempting a closer affection with the Son of God, author of all hope and ambition and holy love, and, finally, we signalize by the sign our hearty will to cooperate with the graces, of the Holy Spirit in actually exercising the acts of charity. (We put our shoulders to it). And thus we have made a first sketch of the whole of our Faith.

THE SIGN AND MARRIAGE

I recall how all this was phrased by one of a group of Catholic young men who were engaged in studying the Sacrament of Matrimony. He thus tells us of the meaning and the values of the Sign of the Cross to the Catholic who had the problem of his future marriage in mind and heart.

“This, the Sign of the Cross, is the sign post which has and will guide my study of marriage, as marriage should guide our whole lives. This is true because the Sign of the Cross, if understood properly and meditated correctly, is found to contain the crux of all the teachings of Holy Mother, the Church. This is more especially true right now for me of marriage because of the deep symbolism which exists between it, the Sign of the Cross, and the mystery of Christ’s espousal of the Church at His death on the Cross of Calvary. Therefore it is most fitting and proper that this, my study, begin with the Sign of the Cross, for in it we will find the basis and central theme of my study.

“ “In the name of the Father” Who, symbolized in holy water, preserves and purifies our faith and Who gives us the blessings of fatherhood in the holy state of Matrimony to fulfill our ~ natures and be spiritually fruitful, too; “ . . . and of the Son” in Whom lies our hope of a sanctified life and a holy marriage, in Whom rests our ambition to be holy and steadfast in the keeping of His laws, especially in regard to our future vocation, and from Whom we receive the knowledge and inspiration for a holy love, pure and enduring, towards Whom we may orient ourselves and engage ourselves to marry; “ . . . and of the Holy Ghost,” from Whom comes the grace to preserve us steadfast in keeping the laws of God, and to exercise ourselves in the wholesome and sanctified and sanctifying acts whereby we keep the laws of God for life and marriage, Amen.”

Thus spoke one of the young men. He was meditating well the Sign of the Cross.

THE SIGN AND THE SACRAMENTS

Consider now the use that is made of the Sign of the Cross in the administration of the sacraments. They are Christ’s institution. The Church delights in signing them and us while giving them.

The baby, brought to the Church with the question: “What do you seek from the Church of God?” gives answer by his sponsors: “Faith!” And the baby, still in Original Sin, is “stamped” for the first solemn time with the seal of the Lord’s cross: “Receive the Sign of the Cross on your forehead and in your heart. Have faith in the teachings of God, and live in such a way that from now on you may be enabled to be the temple of God.” Thus the Rite of Baptism begins.

And all through the childhood, the adolescence of this new Christian down to the very last gasping breath and death, it is the same. “The cross! The cross!”

In First Holy Communion the Host comes, held aloft to be beheld, “Ecce, Agnus Dei . . .” and then, to be presented to the innocent lips; and thecross is first formed by the priestly hands, as he recites: “May the Body of our Lord Jesus guard thy soul to eternal life.”

In Confirmation, the child is signed in the form of the cross: “I sign you with the Sign of the Cross and I confirm you with the chrism of salvation in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.”

On entering the confessional, the child-the penitent-is always greeted: “May the Lord be in thy heart and on thy lips . . .” and always signed with the Sign of the Cross to arm and steel and guide him in his acts of sacramental confession. And he is given his consoling and strengthening judicial release from sin: “I absolve thee . . . in the name of . . .” while the Sign of the Cross is made over him.

Married (or ordained) it is the Sign of the Cross that stands out so notably in the ritual. And, as we have said, in the last anointing-and so distinctly, too, at the last, gasp-it is the Sign of the Cross that is traced on those numbing members, on that expiring person’s body.

Even at the graveside the Sign of the Cross is multiplied. No Christian can, or would, want to miss it. No Christian but is fortified, comforted by this seemingly insignificant gesture, by this holy sign!

THE CROSS AND THE OFFICE

And the priest in his official Office which he prays daily is never far from the Sign of the Cross, as we have noted. He makes it no less than 16 times while reciting in choir his Office, that “work of God.”

THE CROSS AND THE MASS

And, of course, at Mass, from the Asperges, when we are bedewed in the form of the cross with the holy water, till the Last Gospel, when we “stand-up for it,” and sign the book, our heads, our lips, our hearts with this gracious and saving sign, there is no intermission by the priest of the numerous signings which the rubrics call for and so pointedly indicate as he progresses with the august Sacrifice. There is, it is true, only one big Sign of the Cross where the words: “In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit” accompany the sign. [But it is practically a separate study to note the thoughts and words which accompany the other Signs of the Cross which the priest makes while saying Mass. There are some forty-odd of them, the one big one with the Trinitarian words, the little ones on forehead, lips, the crosses over the sacred objects, the benediction. . . . ]

AUGUSTINE’S PRAYER

And so, true to our purpose, which is to help in using this good grace of God—the Sign of the Cross-by knowing more of it and of its inescapably connected dogmas, especially the dogma and the mystery of the Blessed Trinity, we suggest a final summation from the lips of another great lover of the cross, great saint and great teacher in the Church—St. Augustine. When he was finishing off his tremendous treatise on the Trinity, wherein he taught the doctrine with profoundness and sublimity, he tells us that he would complete his work, “better with a prayer than with an argument.” “O Lord, our God, we believe in Thee, The Father, The Son and The Holy Ghost. For the Truth would not say: “Go, baptize all nations in the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost” unless you were a Trinity. Nor would you, O Lord God, bid us be baptized in the name of him who is not the Lord God. Nor would the divine voice have said: “Hear, O Israel, The Lord thy God is One God,” unless you were not so a Trinity as to be One Lord God. And if you, O God, were yourself The Father, and were yourself The Son, your Word, Jesus Christ, and were yourself The Holy Ghost, your Gift, we should not read in the book of Truth: “God sent His Son”; nor would you, O Only-Begotten, say of the Holy Ghost: “Whom the Father will send in My Name”; and “Whom I will send to you from the Father.” Directing my purpose by this rule of faith, so far as I have been able, so far as you have made me to be able. I have sought you, and have desired to see with my understanding what I have believed; and I have argued and laboured much. O Lord, my God, my one hope, harken to me, lest through weariness I be unwilling to seek you, “But that I may always ardently seek your face.” Do you give me strength to seek, who has made me find you, and has given the hope of finding you more and more. My strength and my infirmity are in your sight: preserve the one and heal the other. My knowledge and my ignorance are in your sight; where you have opened to me, receive me as I enter; where you have closed, open to me as I knock. May I remember you, understand you, love you. Increase these things in me until you renew me wholly . . . O Lord, the One God, God The Trinity, whatever I have said in these books that is of yours, May they acknowledge who are yours, and if anything of my own, may it be pardoned, both by you and by those who are yours, Amen.”

Nihil Obstat

W. M. COLLINS Censor Deputatus

Imprimatur

@ D. MANNIX

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis 16th October, 1956

********

Imaginitis

ROBERT NASH, S.J

INDEX

The strange word on our title page will not be was found in a dictionary, I fear. It was coined some years ago, and it has now acquired a fairly definite and widely accepted meaning, though, for the purposes of this booklet, that meaning may be narrowed down very considerably.

We take “imaginitis” then, to be a disease of the mind which distorts the truth in one of two ways,- sometimes by over-emphasizing the difficulties of a given course of action, and sometimes by failing to lay sufficient stress on them.

Suppose you and I are walking together down the street and we drop in to see the dentist. The girl who answers our ring shows us into the waiting room where six or seven other patients have already foregathered. As we sit and watch them our attention is soon attracted by a man who is evidently on tenter-hooks. Each time the door opens he starts up nervously, expecting, it would seem, to have his name called for his interview in the next room. He looks at the secretary who summons each patient as though she was about to sound his death-knell.

When finally his name is announced he turns ashen-pale, throws down the magazine on the table, and follows the secretary with the air of a small boy being haled for punishment by an irate father. The fact is that the poor fellow has been suffering agony with several decaying teeth, and all along he has been deferring this visit because he has an exaggerated terror of the methods of the dentist. Meet him next week as we stand in the five o‘clock bus queue and ask him how he got on. Why he will tell you with a smile, it was not one quarter as bad as he anticipated. He was a fool not to have gone long ago. And why did he not go? Because he was a prey to- imaginitis.

So the first symptom of the disease is to exaggerate difficulties. Undoubtedly the difficulties do exist-no one is expected to set out for the dentist’s house in the same frame of mind as a man going for his summer holidays. But the panic is caused because the imagination paints the horrors in extravagant colours.

You have looked, I”m sure, through a pair of field-glasses at a distant object-a church spire or an old castle half a mile away. The effect of the glasses is to enlarge that object and make it appear to be quite beside you. Through these glasses you can actually read the inscription on the wall or you can discern the cross on top of the spire. Of course the object is in the same place all the time but if you were to be guided merely by what you see, you might believe that it had come close enough for you to raise your hand and touch it.

Now invert the glasses and look through the lower lens, This time the object seems to have shrunk to a sixth of its real size and to have withdrawn a very considerable distance. You know it has not shrunk or changed its position at all, but again you might easily imagine that it had.

One of the devil’s methods of deceiving a soul is to play tricks with the imagination. Sometimes he hands you the glasses and bids you examine your proposed course of action through them. This is his advice, for instance, whenever there is question of the positive performance of some act of virtue. He shows it to you surrounded with all sorts of difficulties. Many of these may be real indeed, but he tries to score against you by enlarging them out of all proportion. At other times, when he tempts you to do a sinful deed, he will show it to you through the glasses turned the other way. He will try to minimize its guilt, persuading you that venial sin is very trivial in the sight of God; and, if there be question of a mortal sin, that one more or less cannot matter much, seeing that it is already so common in any case.

That these are his tactics is borne out by experience. You have had a difference, let me suppose, with a neighbour of yours. Next Sunday at Mass your zealous parish priest chooses to preach, of all subjects, on charity. He points out that Our Lord not only forgave His enemies, but actually prayed for them as He hung on the cross and even tried to find an excuse for their crime. He reminds you that you yourself have sinned, perhaps grievously in the past, and that you have contracted an enormous debt of gratitude to Christ for His mercy in forgiving you. Surely, then, he concludes, it is not much to ask that you, in your turn, should readily forgive someone who has offended you? Yes, even though the other person is unjust, or thankless, or utterly forgetful of your past kindness.

As the priest puts it, it seems fair enough and you begin to play with the idea of patching up the quarrel. You will salute that neighbour as you pass down the churchyard after Mass today and, even though you know you are right, you will ask forgiveness-much more so if you were in the wrong-the next time you meet him alone. At this point enters the enemy. He presents you with the glasses and bids you look through them at what you are proposing to do. “You- going to “kow-tow” to so-andso! Have sense, man. Don’t you remember the bitter things he said about you, and the bitterly harsh remarks he made about your poor mother who is now in her grave? Keep him in his place, the insolent fellow. No one could possibly expect you to do anything else.”

Or Lent is coming, and, in a burst of generosity, you promise faithfully to go to Mass every morning, perhaps, also-as we hope-to receive Holy Communion. But such a promise is all very well when you sit on Shrove Tuesday night, at your pancakes, and tea. The story is very different at half-past six on a cold morning when the strident notes of your alarm clock first arouse you, and then nearly deafen you with their echo. “What an idiot you were to make that rash promise,” whispers the tempter. “Stay where you are on this freezing morning.” Once again he bids you take the glasses into your hands and for one moment to open your sleepy eyes and see the immense difficulties that accompany early rising. It’s too much to expect, so you turn over on the other side and hope the clock is not a repeater alarm.

Father N. has always been your friend and he knows well that you are ruining your health, bringing misery into the home, and, worst of all, committing sin, through excessive drinking. He urges you to take the pledge like a man and stick to it. You would be the happiest man in the country if you were free of this slavery-but you feel unable to brace yourself for the struggle. Too hard! You are examining the proposal under the glass that magnifies its difficulties.

Or you are persistently tempted against purity. You groan as you recognise all the depression and despondency that accompany this sin, and you are willing to admit that even these are not its most deadly results. For all that, there is a fearful fascination about it, and you go for years, it may be, dallying with occasions, because you exaggerate the difficulties, or believe the father of lies when he shows them to you-real indeed-but enlarged and over-emphasized out of all proportion. The truth probably is, that the effort necessary to conquer them would have cost you immeasurably less than the toll following on surrender.

So, in general, wherever there is question of something you want to do for love of God-whether the performance of an act of virtue, or the breaking off from an occasion of sin-you will find that the devil is partial to showing you your proposal as it appears through the glasses, magnified and exaggerated. Illustrations from daily life abound. You come to make a holy hour-he suggests, first, on your way to the church, that instead you should go to a picture, to drop in for tea to a friend. Beat him there and get as far as the church, and he will urge you to curtail the time-half an hour is long enough, or at any rate you can be satisfied with fifty minutes.

He will tempt you to omit or shorten your morning and night prayers-because fidelity to them is too much trouble. He will prompt you to waste your time when your employer’s back is turned, because you have to work too hard when he is on the prowl. He will try to draw you into useless or uncharitable gossip, to make you tell a deliberate lie in order to escape blame, to get you to take money that is not yours. Such temptations are the lot of many of us, and if we sit back and examine his line of attack, we shall find, I think, in many cases, that he relies on the deception we are discussing.

Prayers-you cannot be bothered saying them when you come home late; you are too tired. Drink-well unless you take drink, and treat your pals, and incidentally squander the money needed by your family, you will have rather a thin time. No one would blame you for telling that lie, would they? After all, you could not be expected to face the fury that would inevitably follow if you owned up. You detest that neighbour and haven’t you good reason! You cannot keep your lips sealed when his name comes up for discussion, because silence is too hard. Too hard-it all comes back to looking at your proposed action through the magnifying glasses, doesn’t it?

He employs the same tactics too, where there is a positive evil he wants you to commit. You know, and so does he, that a certain companion is sure to lead you into sin. Perhaps sad experience has proved this to you, and your confessor has rightly insisted on a firm resolve to shun that person’s company. Or there is some house you have been frequenting-that kitchen where you have sat for two hours, that typist’s office, that little cottage where lives all alone the young married woman whose husband is gone to England. Again you know, as well as you know your own name, that such a place is fraught with dangers. But you can’t stand clear of it; it has a fearful fascination for you, and the temptation seems to overpower you, to fling all your promises to the wind and. at least, go there. You may frame some specious excuse to give an appearance of justification to your going; you may vaguely assure yourself, and even pray, that you won’t commit sin. But the enemy laughs at such compromise. He has beaten you because you saw, at his bidding, the difficulty of avoiding the occasion-great indeed, it may be-but still exaggerated and magnified. It is a lie to assert that you could not refuse to go.

“God is faithful and will not permit you to be tempted beyond that which you are able to bear.” Closely allied with the temptation to frequent an occasion of sin is the inclination to lay false emphasis on the pleasures sin itself affords. One thinks that Judas was deceived in this way. Before he sinned, his imagination, distorted as it was, painted him a picture flattering to his pride and love of power. He would be the favourite in the eyes of the great men of Jerusalem. He wanted money badly, and they would give it. If Our Lord willed, He could easily escape, as Judas had seen Him do before. The wretched man kept looking at the satisfaction promised by the crime he contemplated, till it loomed larger and larger.

But swift on the heels of his sin comes the frightful remorse. He rushes back to the men in whose hands he had been a willing accomplice. With a voice hoarse with despair he declares, what every sinner must ultimately declare, that there is nothing in sin except shame, and disgust and self-contempt, the moment it is committed. The promised enjoyment was a mirage.

Judas” principal sin was despair, distrust of God’s mercy. This is one of the sins against the virtue of hope. Presumption is the other, and Satan here too, leads souls to sin by presenting them with an image of God’s mercy that is out of focus. The presumptuous man would like God to await his good pleasure. He blandly assures himself that God is too loving a Father to take him in his sins. He likes to forget about the sudden death of that public sinner, who was drowned or knocked down by a lorry. God must stand by accommodatingly till this man has had his full measure of sinful satisfaction; then, perhaps, he will turn and ask forgiveness, and he feels sure he will have time and opportunity to settle all his past before he dies.

Can words be found to stigmatize such insolence! The foolish man is in false security because he does not view his life and his sin with the unprejudiced eye. God is patient, it .is true, and abounding in mercy to the sinner who seeks forgiveness and does penance. But this conceited, complacent, self-satisfied creature who calmly expects the allpowerful Creator to accommodate Himself to his conditions, considers himself a man of sound common sense when in reality he is a raving lunatic; as such he must surely recognise himself if only he would not persist in viewing his conduct through glasses that give an exaggerated view of divine mercy. He never allows himself to realise the insufferable arrogance of a presumptuous trust in God’s mercy because he refused to look facts straight in the face. His whole attitude is out of joint.

We must not forget to insert a word too about the difficulties which are almost invariably placed before a man or woman who is keen on works of Catholic Action. It would seem that God’s work thrives on opposition. What is most astonishing is, perhaps, that this opposition will sometimes come from the very quarter where you expected, and considered you had every right to expect, warm support for your project or at least encouragement and approval. Of course there may be difficulties; we may even concede that there will sometimes be insuperable difficulties, in the way. But beyond question, too, often the difficulties exist only because they are set in the wrong perspective. If those who raise them would sincerely lay aside personal prejudice, or perhaps a. feeling of secret envy, and a determination to keep this bumptious organizer “in his place,” if they would refuse to be influenced by the thought that his zeal and initiative was a censure of their own apathy and laziness, and, instead of all this, would seek with open mind to discover if the scheme was going to promote God’s glory and help souls, how much solid good would be accomplished that, now remains undone! Undone, not because there were not willing workers, but because their ideas and ideals would not be even considered by those whose approval was essential. Or, if they were considered, it was through glasses in which the scheme was shown as bristling with difficulties, real difficulties probably, but exaggerated and overdrawn.

One of the principal efforts in the devil’s technique when he bids you see in this way, is to make you forget- the power of divine grace and its nearness to you in your difficulties. This is, so, whether you are trying to practise a virtue like silence about your neighbour’s faults or prompt rising for Mass; or whether you are fighting against a persistent occasion of sin; or whether you are an apostle doing your best to lead souls to Jesus and Mary. In all three there will undoubtedly be difficulties, but it is a fatal mistake to pretend to tackle them singlehanded. “I can do all things in Him Who strengthen me.”

Open up the gospel story for a few minutes. Here is the first appearance of Our divine Lord in His Public Life-at the marriage feast in Cana of Galilee. A serious difficulty arose. The wine ran short and apparently there was no solution except that on this their wedding-day, the newly-married pair were to be humiliated before all their friends. But you know that the difficulty seemed so great and the proposed solution was arrived at, only because they forgot to take into account the presence and the power of Jesus on the scene.

Turn on a few pages farther and read about the multitudes that followed after Our Lord out in the desert. They forgot everything except their craving to be with Him, listening to Him, watching Him, Who exercised such an unprecedented influence over them because He was God. For four days they followed Him like this, many of them for long distances. At last the disciples think well to suggest that they be sent away lest they starve from want of food. But Our Lord orders them all to be fed, just as they are, here in the wilderness! How fantastic the suggestion must seem- unless you remember that the apostles were not to imagine that its accomplishment rested merely with them. Andrew is abashed. “Unde nos” “Where could weget food for all these thousands, and in this desolate place!” Exactly. They couldn’t, but they were not alone in dealing with the problem.

Finally, you have the holy women going out to the tomb on the first Easter morning. They too had the vision of a difficulty that lay ahead. “Who will roll us back the stone?” On the previous Friday they had carefully noted where Jesus was buried and now they were hastening to the grave in order to anoint His sacred body and arrange it lovingly in its resting-place. But here was a real difficulty. The stone rolled over in front of the tomb was very large, too big for a few women to remove it. Their imagination seems to have played them false by summoning up an insuperable difficulty. Actually, when they reached the grave, they found the stone rolled away! All their worry was to no purpose after all! They forgot that Jesus and His power are never far off when a soul of goodwill is oppressed with difficulties.

So we might, I think, set down our first hint in order to arm ourselves when the enemy tries to overdraw the difficulties. “I can do all things in Him Who strengtheneth me.” “The man who is united to God,” says St. John of the Cross, “is feared by the devil as though he were God Himself!” It is possible to have an undue fear of the devil’s power. Yes, we must fear him for it is indeed most true that he has a terrifying strength, that he has been studying the weakness of human nature at close range for thousands of years, that he can deck out sin in very attractive garb and paint virtue as something drab and joyless and abounding in difficulties. But there are cases on record proving that this weak and vacillating nature of ours can rise to astonishing heights of nobility and sanctity when it leans for support on the never-failing grace of Our Lord.

For proof of this, you have only to pick up at random, the life of any saint. Recall for a moment the story of St. Francis Borgia. He was possessed of enormous wealth. As Duke of Gandia he wielded much influence in the affairs of state and commanded the respect of his sovereign and his people. But he renounced it all-his money, his power, and all prospect of advancing himself further in mens” eyes. Why? Because God called him to be a Jesuit. He used often to say afterwards that one quarter of an hour alone with God in the quiet and silence of his little room was worth all he had given up. Now he was of the same human nature as ourselves-like all the saints-and the contempt he had for what we value so highly and the complete victory he gained over his strong passions, are proof positive of the power of divine grace. Had he kept on looking only at the obstacles he would have seen the Jesuit life as too hard, too exacting, and the life of opulence and power as irresistibly attractive.

Unquestionably there was the real attraction of the world, and unquestionably the life he proposed to himself as a Jesuit would demand constant self-sacrifice. But Borgia remembered what we are making our first hint-the mighty power of grace to encourage his first steps and sustain him on the road, till the end of the journey.

What he used to say about the happiness of even a quarter of an hour with God in prayer gives us our second hint when we have to deal with the difficulties that tend to loom too large. That is-to be well persuaded that if there is a man or woman who finds a corner of heaven in this vale of tears it is, beyond question, the one who tries perseveringly to be generous inGod’s service. We know and believe that our struggles will be rewarded most abundantly when we see Him face to face in heaven. But it almost seems as if God’s loving desire to reward cannot wait till eternity. Even here He hastens to let the soul see and understand the blessed sweetness of sacrifice. Thus when a man is sorely pressed by temptation, to, say, impurity, or drink, he will have to put up a fight and take comfort in the truth that grace will not be refused him if he makes use of the proper means. When that struggle is over and he begins to breathe freely again, he will assuredly experience a marvellous joy in his soul if he can look back and see that he stood his ground.

To imagine that God’s service means nothing, only the constant denying of every legitimate amusement is to court discouragement. Self-denial there must be indeed, in the measure demanded by the designs of God on the soul, but if He asks for a sacrifice it is only to reward us even at the moment we make it. It is true too that the more one tastes and sees how sweet He is, the more insipid and meaningless grow many of the good things that satisfy for the moment the desires of our senses. The person who tries sincerely and consistently to prove his love for Christ by sacrifice has a happiness in the secret places of his own soul little suspected by those who fight shy of sacrifice because they see it only through glasses that magnify its difficulties.

We have still to talk about what the inverted lenses show, but before doing so let us set down a final hint about dealing with overdrawn difficulties. It is to train ourselves, as far as is possible, to live in the present and seize upon present opportunities. When St. Ignatius Loyola was living in the cave at Manresa he subjected himself to a regime of penance and prayer that might well terrify us. One day the devil approached and asked Ignatius how could he possibly expect to endure such an existence of utter discomfort and continuous prayer for thirty or forty years. Right enough the prospect was appalling. Long hours of vigil every night for thirty years. Each day, for thirty years, barely enough food to keep him alive. The isolation of this cave for a man naturally fond of society and notoriety, for thirty years. No, he never could endure it! Better turn back and have sense! But then he perceived the deception. Who could guarantee that he would have this life for thirty years, or even for thirty minutes! He could live it here and now at any rate, and confidently entrust future difficulties to God’s hands. This attitude of his provides our third hint when we are similarly tempted.

Moreover, when the time to fulfil our promise actually comes, we find quite often, that, like the man going to the dentist, “it was not quarter as bad as we anticipated.” Much of the difficulty of early rising, of going out in the cold to Mass, of forcing ourselves to work when opportunity was at hand to waste our employer’s time, was shorn of a great deal of the trouble we feared when we were actually face to face with the doing of what we promised.

So we have now collected three or four hints for dealing with our enemy when he tries to play tricks with our imagination by laying undue stress on difficulties. (1) Remember that he shows them to you enlarged and overdrawn. (2) Remember that when you tackle them you are not alone; divine grace is assured to you, sufficient to win through in every serious temptation. (3) Remember that there is undoubtedly a deep joy in victory over your enemy, far deeper than any sinful satisfaction. (4) Lastly, concentrate on the present moment and understand that often it happens that the actual doing of what you propose is going to be much easier than you anticipate.

If you but recognise that any given suggestion comes from the devil, you know that it stands condemned from the first. For he is your deadliest enemy, and you may rest assured that he never would advance anything that would make for your happiness, here or hereafter. Therefore, however specious appearances may be, if you see that he must be the author of any proposal you know, by that very fact, that you are to do the direct opposite. You are tempted to meet a sinful companion, let us say, or go into some sinful haunt. Now that idea is undoubtedly from the evil one. Any argument therefore which may be put forward in its favour is condemned in advance. The proposed course is intended to make you miserable, to rob you of your peace of soul-no matter how attractive it looks. It must be so, despite all appearances to the contrary, for it comes from him who hates you with all the violence of his nature and is determined to compass your ruin. Were this suggestion going to contribute even remotely to your well-being. Satan would take good care to ward it off from you. He will indeed coat the pill with sugar, hut a deadly poison lies hidden within. Every argument in its favour falls instantly to the ground once you see the origin of the evil suggestion.

On the other hand, recognise that a proposal comes from God’s grace, and, let it seem as hard as it may, the mere fact that I am sure He has prompted it makes it certain that it is for my well-being. If He asks sacrifice-and He does and will-it is not to make me miserable or try me unduly. It is to load with future blessings and even present delights, the soul that proves its love by deeds rather than by words.

What tricks does the enemy play with the inverted lenses? It will help to introduce the answer if we transfer ourselves for a moment in imagination to the waiting room of a local railway station. We have an hour to wait for the arrival of our train, and, as we sit here we happen to glance through the window. Outside, we observe a large furniture van drawing up at the entrance to the station. Two men open the door behind and between them they carry a huge coil of carpet. With this they proceed direct to our waiting room and apologise for disturbing us while they are spreading it on the floor. Next they return to the van and draw forth an enormous leather-embossed armchair. This too they bring into the room where we are standing, our curiosity not unnaturally aroused.

What is the meaning of all this! Well, they answer, if we look out the window again we will see a well-dressed gentleman heading for this station. He has one hour to wait for the train and, in order to be quite comfortable while waiting, he has ordered all these elaborate preparations to preceed him! You would exclaim that he was mad.

Yet the numbers who are very like him are to he counted by the million. For consider. You and I and every man and woman and child on the face of the earth are here in order to meet the train that is to take us to eternity. Our period of waiting is not even an hour when one remembers that time bears no sort of proportion to eternity. And, since our lot for eternity depends on how we spend this hour of waiting, you would surely conclude that our only concern will be to be ready when the train pulls in, and to have everything in perfect order for the journey. Any other course is sheer insanity.

Just as you smile at the idiotic conduct of the man disgorging all his baggage in the waiting-room, so does Satan laugh with fiendish delight when he succeeds in causing men to be preoccupied with the world about them to the neglect of due preparation for where they are going. How does he bring about this preoccupation? You find the answer by looking at life as it is lived today by the majority of mankind. What do we think of, even we Catholics, for the greater portion of our waking hours? We are absorbed in and ruled by trivialities. You cannot help overhearing a conversation between two girls behind you in the bus. Their chatter is all shout last night’s dance, or the latest film, or it consists of a lengthy account of some butterfly experience that is not worth the telling. What is the man beside you reading in his evening paper? The Pope has made an important pronouncement which occupies the front page, but your Catholic man is notinterested in that. Sport is his line, so he turns at once to the account of today’s race, or the forecast for tomorrow a big match or tonight’s boxing tournament.

Drop off your bus and step into a hotel or lounge bar. You’ll find all here thinking of eternity, won’t you? This inane existence consisting of silly chatter and cocktails and cigarettes goes on one day after another, one week after another, and all the time these poor people consider themselves perfectly sane. So does our friend at the railwaystation. Count up if you can the number of our cinemas and televisions and reckon how many thousands of our Catholic people have become enslaved by them. How many precious hours are squandered in this way?

For others the great preoccupation is the making of money. Life becomes a breathless rush-a rush to catch trains, to secure interviews or grant them, to discuss the situation with another businessman, phone-calls, telegrams, an endless stream of correspondence claim every moment and a man can scarcely allow himself breathing space to take his meals. He is obsessed with the desire to pile up money which he does not give himself time to enjoy!

At this point perhaps we should forestall a possible objection. You may want to say that in all this there is no sin. We are prepared to admit that that is at least a possibility. You may want to tell me that people must enjoy themselves, and that there does not seem to be any great harm in the forms of enjoyment we have been carping at. After all, you’ve seen priests at the cinema, you know that so-andso whom you meet regularly at a “dance,” is a daily communicant; this other chap, an inveterate card-player, is still a most loyal Sodalist of our Lady, and this other who is mad on sport, has done and is doing, magnificent organizing work in her Legion. So what’s the quarrel! Are we all expected to become priests or religious, or at least to scowl and frown upon the world’s innocent amusements?

No, there is no quarrel with dancing, or sport, or light reading, or cinema, or hiking, or card-playing, or racing, or boxing, in themselves. They have their place in life and they are meant to act like the drop of oil that keeps the engine running smoothly. This they do when they are used in moderation, as means to an end. We hasten to add that the tendency is to lessen such things rather than to multiply them, when one begins to see life as 0ur Lord sees it. But that is a further question. At the moment, the point is that for many of us amusement and “a good time” have assumed such gigantic proportions in our lives that we think of nothing else, speak of nothing else, we flit like bees from one round of exciting experiences to another. In such life there is no room for God, no serious remembrance of the purpose for which He placed us on this earth. We are pleasure-mad and all the time the train is fast approaching. It is the enemy’s plan to keep us preoccupied thus. The object of such preoccupation need not be, at least in the beginning, something that is evil in itself. It quite answers his purpose for the moment if it so fills our thoughts and hearts and so crushes itself into our every spare half-hour, that the thought of God and of eternity has no room. And this is where the inverted lenses help him. For when he manages to make a soul look through these, he shows to the soul the shrunken image of something that is inexpressibly important. Seen thus in miniature, eternity appears of little importance; forget it therefore and seize upon what is to hand. What a terrifying disillusionment must come after such a squandering of life! There has been time for business, time for gossip, time for uncharitable words and thoughts and actions, time for golf or swimming or pictures or cards or moneymaking. The time to get ready for eternity was crushed out. This happened to the rich man in Our Lord’s parable. He was eaten up with worldliness; eternity was forgotten or seen only in miniature. God called that man a fool, as you call our friend at the railway station. It is not uncommon for fools to fail to recognise their own folly. An inmate of a mental home will tell you that everyone around him is quite mad and that they all think he is like them!

It is often affirmed that this absorption in worldliness is not a sin. Suppose for the moment that this is true. The Catholic’s argument then resolves itself into some such form as this: “I owe everything to God. He created me and preserves me each moment in life. I was born in a Catholic land, of Catholic parents, receiving from God the inestimable blessing of the true faith. Had He decreed otherwise, I might have been born in the heart of China, a pagan. As life has gone on He has strengthened me with His sacraments. If ever I sinned mortally I owe it to His mercy alone that He gave me time to repent. Had He treated me with justice, I should at this moment be in hell, instead of being seated here reading this page. My debt of gratitude to such a munificent giver is beyond all reckoning. But I am not bothering about that. I intend to forget about Him and His claims upon me except in so far as such forgetfulness would endanger my own precious security hereafter. I am far too fond of myself to run the risk of going to hell, so I shall always step short of mortal sin. Worldliness weakens the bond of love between God and my soul, but I am not concerned about that bond of love. I am satisfied to view God’s love and the gifts with which He has loaded me through the lenses that show them as remote and little.”

That is the mentality of the Catholic who urges that, because a course of action is “not a sin,” that therefore it is open to no objection.

But, in point of fact, is it true, I wonder, that a life immersed in worldliness is so free from actual sin? One must suspect strongly that here too such a Catholic is minimising the meaning of sin and its gravity. Our present Holy Father has been telling us that one of the most terrifying evils of the day is the world’s loss of the sense of sin. From forgetfulness of God the transition is easily made to forgetfulness of His commandments, of His rights, of the sanctions with which He has guarded His laws. Listen to the loose-talk, or the unashamedly immoral talk, of this group at the streetcorner. Does the thought remotely cross their minds that God’s ear listens too, that that coarse joke or foul expression is an offence flung in the face of God? What are the reactions of the young fellow on waking up in the morning after a night of drunkenness or impurity, or both! Will he fall on his knees and beg God’s pardon! Will he thank God that he hasn’t died last night in his sins? Where is the thought of God in the mind of the person who steals, or runs up bills, or who has accumulated debts which he has not a notion of trying to pay off? Who thinks of the innocence robbed by the frightful sin of scandal, of the soul of anotherwhich was God’s property and has now, through the example and teaching and co-operation of the scandalgiver, been sold as a slave to Christ’s Enemy!

No, we don’t think of sin on those lines because we keep on viewing it in miniature. If you steal, the all-important aim must be not to get caught. If you sin against purity, don’t take any risk; make sure there won’t be any results that would compromise you. If you borrow money, or let your debts run on, keep clear of your creditors, or, better, cheat them if you can. If they bring you into court and you think that you can get away with it, do not hesitate to swear a false oath. We have to live, you know, and in these times every man is out for himself.

This ignoring of God’s rights, this complete disregard for the Ten Commandments grows out of worldliness. It is the product of a mentality that considers life a sheer waste of opportunity except in so far as it ministers to the craving for “a good time.” “0 ye sons of men, how long will you be dull of heart? Why do you love vanity and seek after lying?” (Psalms 4. 3).

One of the masterpieces from the pen of St. Bernard is entitled: About Consideration. It was written for Pope Eugenius, who had been amonk in the saint’s monastery before he was raised to this high dignity. In his new sphere Eugenius will find many a change. Constant calls on his time and a multitude of external affairs will claim diligent and unremitting attention. Hitherto, in the silence and seclusion of his monastery, he was able to live a most regular life of prayer and labour. That is finished for him, now that God’s Providence has called him to rule His Church as His Vicar one earth.

You might think that Bernard will urge his former disciple to spend his energy generously on these many external cares. After all these have been forced upon him by the Will of God, and, now that he is no longer bound by a religious rule, the great object to set before him must be the discharge of his duties. This Bernard is far from denying, but he stresses in the most emphatic language that for the perfection of his exterior works, it is imperative for the Pope to have regular periods during which he will retire to pray and to meditate on eternal things, be the calls on his time as numerous as they may.

Now if St. Bernard was convinced that even the Pope whose works after all might be considered by the unreflecting to be prayer in themselves, should yet be adamant in seeking retirement and seclusion and space to fill his mind with the thought of God and eternity, surely we can deduce a similar argument for ourselves. If our lives are steeped in worldliness and sin, much more imperative for us is consideration than it was for a man whose works were concerned directly with the furthering of God’s kingdom on earth. That is the only remedy we propose for dealing with the deceits caused by viewing life through lens that give a shrunken view. Violence may be necessary, probably will be necessary, to tear ourselves out of this environment and force ourselves to see the silliness and insincerity of the world we love, and the heinousness of offending God by sin.

We do not think, or else we think along wrong lines. The films do our thinking for us and determine for us what is to be our view of life. The sensational novel thinks for us and fools us into living in a dreamland of unreality. The socalled sensible man of the world, so like his prototype in the gospel, thinks for us or rather forces upon us his viewpoint and it does not occur to us to adopt any other-though, if we were not looking at it awry, we should see it was diametrically opposed to Our Lord’s. Men like St. Bernard who lived in solitude, come face to face with God and reality, and their words vibrate as they warn us of our folly.

For us too there has to be retirement for periods of regular prayer and prayerful thought. For us if possible, a regular enclosed retreat. For us it is imperative that we reaffirm for ourselves values that are eternal and abiding in a crazy world that is being shaken to its foundations because men’s thinking is all wrong.

If you want the correct image, in perfect focus, you must look on the object before you with the naked eye. This will show you things just as they are in reality, and this is how Jesus Christ would have you look at them and keep looking.

This gives a sane, balanced view of life here and hereafter, and a correct solution of the problems that meet you. We have been discussing imaginitis and the tricks it plays with us. Now for an illustration that will supply us with a truth to counteract the devil’s deceits. The truth is that we can attain to a very large measure of control over our imagination. We can get into a happy position where we are able to decide what thoughts we are going to admit and what thoughts to reject. I do not say that we shall secure complete control, but a little self-discipline, aided by the never-failing grace of God, will give us a very fair measure of this control. That is the truth, and here now is the illustration:

You are sitting on a summer evening reading at the open window of your front room. Presently the gate is pushed in and a gypsy woman appears. She has a basket of trinkets on her arm and she wants you to buy. You have no intention of stirring, interested as you are in your book, and in no way desirous to disturb yourself to get up and inspect the contents of thebasket. She holds up a necklace; you don’t want it, so she drops it and displays instead a photo frame. You are determined to take no notice, no matter how persistent or ingratiating she proves herself to be. Your determination is matched against hers and it is with difficulty you restrain yourself from buying something you don’t want, just to get rid of this troublesome interruption to your reading. But you know at the same time that you are in the superior position and there is no sort of compulsion on you to admit them or to buy.

Finally she gives up in despair. Twenty minutes later the gate is opened again and this time you see with delight an old friend who has been very ill for weeks and is having his first outing today. This time you forget all about your interesting book as you rush to the hall-door and down the steps to make your friend welcome. This is a pleasant surprise and you ply your visitor with questions about his health as you lead him back with you.

Thoughts present themselves before the imagination like different visitors at your front door.

With you rests the decision what to admit and what to reject. Evil thoughts, distorted views of life, may be very vivid and very persistent, but you have always the power to say “no.” Saying “no” ought not be difficult when you realise that what you see is the image through lenses that magnify or minimize. The mere fact that such thoughts persist in coming back and trying again does not by any means imply that you have consented to them. On the contrary, it argues, rather, that they have not secured the admission they seek.

In these times when, outside the Catholic Church, there is so much doubt and uncertainty and ignorance about even the fundamentals of religion, it will be worth while setting down, in these few final pages, an outline of what we believe as Catholics. We believe that nearly two thousand years ago, a child was born who was not merely in every sense a human being, but was also God, uniting in Himself the divine and the human nature. He taught a very specific doctrine and taught it with all the authority befitting Him as God. He proved to men that He was indeed God by exercising before their very eyes power such as only God could use. Thus it was beyond question that He raised men from the dead and drove forth evil spirits from possessed people. In particular, He threw down a challenge. He foretold that, in proof of His divinity, He would Himself rise from the dead. This He did, and the evidence in support of this miracle is incontrovertible.

Therefore, Jesus Christ is God as well as Man, and therefore He is to be obeyed even as God in heaven is obeyed. Now it was His Will and intention to propagate throughout the world, and throughout all ages, the very specific doctrine He preached. He told men that they were in this world in order to serve God and save their souls. And He taught in clearest terms what the conditions were upon which they would do so. He left them a wonderful gift, which we call divine grace, to enrich these souls with a new life, and to strengthen them wondrously in their struggles against the powers of evil. He gathered a group of apostles about Him. These He trained with special care. To these He entrusted the task of continuing to preach whatever He had taught them. He guaranteed to them immunity from error when they were authoritatively transmitting His doctrines to men. He commissioned them to go throughout the length and breadth of the world and spread everywhere the knowledge of Him and what He taught.

These men were the nucleus of the Catholic Church which since their day has extended its branches everywhere, like the huge oak that develops from the tiny acorn. If it be true that He is God, that He sent these men in this way and promised to preserve them from error; if it be true that the Catholic Church today inherits this teaching and this divine commission to preach and the divine guarantee against teaching error, what follows!

It follows that whatever that Church teaches me is presented to me just exactly as it is in itself. There is no deception possible. I am absolutely certain that here is truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. Therefore there is immense peace of mind for the Catholic for he realises that, in matters of the utmost importance concerning his conduct into a happy eternity, he has a most reliable and trustworthy guide. He will not always see why this guide orders him to do this or avoid that. He may not be able to understand the arguments which lead up to a decision about a hitherto unsettled question. But one solid assurance he does possess; he knows he cannot go wrong as long as he obeys.

His Church does not at all wish to cloak over her decisions with a veil of mystery. She welcomes discussion and investigation and she will readily be able to supply sound reasons for whatever she does or does not do. The Catholic Faith appeals powerfully to man’s reason. It does contain mysteries which the human intellect cannot fathom, but it shows too that mystery involves no contradiction. We believe, for instance, that there are Three Persons in one God, not because we understand how this can be, but because Jesus Christ has told us it is so. We believe that Our Lord is really present in the Blessed Eucharist, not because we see Him there, nor because we can claim any special individual revelation but because Jesus Christ says He is there.

Religion is thus not a matter of sentiment. Non-Catholics will sometimes tell us, well-meaningly, that ours is a beautiful faith. Unquestionably it is, but we do not adhere to it and hold ourselves ready to die in its defense merely because it is so lovely. This we do because it is true, its truth being divinely guaranteed. We are not Catholics merely because our fathers before us were Catholics. We are Catholics because everything taught us in the Catholic Church is eminently reasonable, because every Catholic dogma rests on sound arguments, because the Catholic Church alone has been commissioned to preach what Christ taught, because she has done so, and will continue to do so, till the end of the world. And for no power on earth or in hell will she tone down that doctrine or change one jot or tittle of it in order to make it more palatable to the world. This, the Catholic Church refuses to do for the simple reason that she is not free to do otherwise. It is as impossible for her to sanction, let us say, birth control or divorce, as it is for a mathematician to admit that two and two make five.

Surely we can see that her attitude is the only sane one. Given that she believes she has a divine commission to preach, that she is guaranteed immune from error, that Jesus Christ her Founder is God incarnate, what other course is open to her except to refuse all parley or surrender?

So she presents us with truth just exactly as it is. For the Catholic who sits back and takes the trouble to think, it must be a source of tremendous satisfaction to have all the assurance that such a Church can give him when she asks him to believe. It can only look with intense compassion on the truncated forms of Christianity found about him in which men have no authoritative teaching, and in which the vaunted freedom to pick and choose for oneself what to believe is fast leading to the inevitable chaos and disbelief in even the existence of God or the divinity of Christ. For many a non-Catholic it is a surprise to learn that we Catholics regard religion as reasonable, as appealing to the mind and intellect as well as to the heart and will. To many of them the thought never occurred that religion was anything more, or could be anything more, than a matter of sentiment, to be taken up or cast down according to the mood of the moment.

With the naked eye you see also how reasonable are the Ten Commandments. If you buy a new lawn mower, or a new radio, or a new typewriter, the man who sells it will usually present you with a book of rules and hints. These you will read and follow out carefully if you are wise, for, after all, the man who built the machine or put the wireless-set together ought to be the best judge as to how it should be treated. He claims to know how to get the most satisfactory results and you do not question his judgment. On the contrary, you value his advice and study your book of rules and hints gracefully and willingly.

The Ten Commandments, even on quite natural grounds, are framed by the Author of our nature with a view to running the human machine in the most effective manner. They are His book of directions, and, even if there were no life after death, man could devise no surer rules for even his temporary well-being on earth. Think what a revolution there would be in human affairs if even one of the Commandments was kept perfectly for a single year. Suppose that everyone observed the Seventh Commandment, what would happen? You could immediately cast aside all locks and keys. You need have no anxiety about where you leave your money. Shopkeepers need scarcely bother keeping accounts for they are assured that their customers are conscientious and will remember to pay. There would be no black-marketing, no overcharging, no attempt to pawn off inferior goods for more than their worth. What a wonderful sense of security must inevitably follow! And yet we have only sketched the state of things that would happen if even one of the Commandments was perfectly observed.

Suppose that even portion of the Eighth Commandment was kept in the same way. Suppose that every man always told the truth. The mind reels while it begins to think out the happy results that must follow. No distrust between us for we can believe unquestioningly whatever our neighbour tells us. No need of any courts of justice for if a man commits a crime he will readily admit his guilt. No need of witnesses or judge or jury. Isn’t it silly to look on the Com- mandments as being restrictions to one’s happiness and freedom? If you want to go from Dublin to Limerick you must follow the guidance of the signposts along the route. It is nonsense to say they hamper your liberty. Rather, do they keep you right. A fool may try to maintain that he would prefer to be free to wander where he wills, but anyone who has any sense knows that it is reasonable to follow the signposts if you want to get to Limerick. The Ten Commandments are just such signposts, stationed along the route that leads from earth to heaven. But, when you examine them with an open mind you see that they are even more; they constitute an invaluable book of rules for even man’s temporary happiness on earth, even if there were no heaven and no eternity to follow.

What is true of multitudes is true also of each individual. The more faithfully each man keeps the Commandments the more happy he will be. He will taste that peace of a good conscience, the peace of God which surpasses all understanding. Let him ignore the book of rules provided by the divine Architect Who fashioned the human machine, and he will experience at once the bitterness that must follow.

To see the Commandments in this light is to see them as they are in reality. Such an attitude is a sure antidote to imaginitis.

Throughout these few pages we have been mindful of St. Paul’s words that to give entire obedience to God is a service that is reasonable. It is not easy to be clear-visioned in a land of fog, and the world today is stumbling in the midst of fog and cloud and darkness. It is refreshing to climb, far out of the depression of the drab valley, up high into God’s holy hill, and there see life, its purpose, its difficulties, its temptations and their remedies, just as they are in themselves. It is heartening to recognise the reasonableness of the Catholic’s position, to understand that down in the valleys, in the rough and tumble of life even we Catholics may be led astray by false appearances. But up here, in the light of God’s countenance, one breathes in the bracing air of the supernatural.

On the mountain of Sinai God deigned to hold intimate converse with His faithful servant Moses. On the mountain of Thabor Our Lord showed Himself in His glory for a flashing moment to Peter, James, and John. On the mountain of Olivet He appeared after His Resurrection and, in the sight of His blessed Mother Mary, and the little group of His apostles, He ascended before them up into heaven.

But Moses had to come down from Sinai and lead his people across the desert into the land of promise. Peter, James, and John would love to build three tabernacles and remain on Thabor, but, they too must descend and toil for the salvation of the world. After the Ascension, angels appeared and asked the disciples why they kept standing on Olivet looking up to heaven; Jesus would come again, but meantime there was work for them to do. And when the Catholic climbs up into the high mountain, when he sees how soul-satisfying is his position as a follower of Christ in His one true Church, when he recognises the deceits and the insincerity of the flattery of the world, when he understands how wide of the mark are its standards of value, in a word, when he begins to draw near to God in prayer and see life as He sees it, he too would often wish to remain up here where there is such peace and such solid contentment of mind and heart.

But that may not be. “Why stand ye here?” For him too there is work to be done. He must share the good tidings with the others below. He must awaken men from their lethargy. Having seen and realised the truth himself, he must come down and walk amongst those who have lost their way and lead them to the light which he himself has discovered.”When once God takes possession of a soul,” says St. John of the Cross, “He does not long remain inactive.”

De licentia Superiorum Ordinis THOMAS BYRNE, S.J.,

Praep. Prov. Hib. .Soc. Jesu. Dublini, die 31 Maii, 1948.

Nihil Obstat:

JOANNES PINKMAN Censor Deputatus.

Imprimatur:

@ JACOBUS JOSEPH, Episcopus Ardacadensis. 16 Junii 1948

********

In Praise of Fathers

DANIEL A. LORD, S.J

INDEX

MAYBE the women are right when, shaking their heads, they say, “This is a man’s world.” But they have to admit that here in this America of ours practically all the credit goes to Mothers.

Now in no sense should I wish to withdraw one least jot or tittle of their credit. Mothers are a glorious race. We love them and rightly grow romantic about them.

But is that any reason that Dads shouldn’t get an occasional break?

If songs are any barometer of nation: emotions. our popular songs tell an amazing story. There are a thousand songs about Mothers. But who ever bothers to sing-much less to write-a song about Dad?

“Mammy!” bleats the blackface tenor, sinking on his knees to reach for his absent (and suddenly remembered) Mother. “I love the dear silver that shines in your hair,” carols the Irish tenor, and the entire nation, Irish and others, takes up the chorus of “Mother Machree.” Song writers are always threatening to speed back to a Mother in Kentucky, in Tennessee, in old New Hampshire, in the Florida Keys, in Dallas, in Bermuda, or in the oldladies” home. These bechorused Mothers, silver-haired and pink-cheeked, lean out from dream castles and old shanties in shanty town, from tumble-down huts and ivy-covered cottages.

LET’S SING A SONG OF DADS

But try as I would, out of my musical memory for Dads, I could rake only that ancient comic, “The Hat Me Father Wore,” and that masterpiece of mockery, “Everybody Works but Father.” I do recall a song of other days that still recurs at mellow moments; it pays Dad a sort of roundabout compliment by complimenting his taste in girls: “I”d like a girl, just like the girl that married dear old Dad.” But even there it’s Mother, not Father, who takes the bows.

Just to indicate the national difference in attitude, I suggest a simple comparison. We have on one hand the sweet sentimentality of Whistler’s idyllic painting “Mother,” and on the other the strident irony of Clarence Day’s essays and record- breaking comedy, “Life With Father,” There you have it in two frames: Mother, the centre of affectionate nostalgia; Dad, a nice old codger slightly on the funny side.

EVEN THEIR DAYS

When the commercial world-and you can lay a safe wager that it was the commercial world-first thought up Mother’s Day, it handed the American public what, in good American slang, is a natural. To load Mother with flowers, to send her candy and hose, to greet her with perfume was right to the national taste. Wasn’t it inevitable that Western Union should think up Mother’s Day Greeting Number 3679?

“Your hair is silver, Ma, today;

“And I”m the kid that turned it gray.”

So Mother’s Day was washed into the American calendar on a tidal wave of tearful emotion. The mails carried her boxes of candy; the “phone companies had a heavy run of long-distance calls for her. The whole spirit of Mother love bloomed like the flowers in the bonnet of her youth.

Inevitably, having hit the “jack pot” with Mother’s Day, the commercial world thought up Father’s Day. If the candy- makers did well with the first, why shouldn’t the cigar makers dump their products on the second? If once a year Mother was flooded with flowers, how about a day for the heart of Dad to be warmed with a blanket of ties and handkerchiefs?

Only it didn’t work that way. When is Father’s Day, anyhow? If the advertisers didn’t mark it carefully on their copy and thrust it under our noses, would we ever think of it or remember it? Mother’s Day sent the nation into a frenzy of phoning and wiring and ordering. On the day supposedly dedicated to them, Dads get hardly an extra postcard from their absent children.

“IMPROVING” THE SCRIPTURES

Some years ago, as I recall, a Broadway producer and a playwright combined forces to do a spectacular version of the parable of the prodigal son. If you know anything about the American stage of the last generation, you can guess that those who were responsible for this “spectacle” centred their main interest on the precise way that the son in that far-off land went about his assignment of living riotously. They gave a highly romanticised picture of prodigals wasting their substance-a practice which seems to differ little from one era of history to another.

But when they began to map out the scenes of the y oung man’s return from the feeding of swine and its human equivalents, they set themselves to improve on the Gospel. Being Americans, they just couldn’t conceive an American audience’s understanding why a prodigal son would return to a Father. That was against the finest traditions of our popular ballads. Sons running back to their Fathers? Ridiculous!

So with that highly eclectic attitude characteristic of dramatists, textual critics, and private interpreters of the Scriptures, they did a notable re-write. They sent the prodigal son home, not to a forgiving Father, but to a doting Mother. In fact, to keep the spirit entirely typical of our better national traditions, they made the Father a stern old parent who, upon his son’s return, flatly refused to give him houseroom-until, that is, the Mother pleaded the son’s cause in a most touching, tear-jerking scene. Even then the Father had a few stern words for the boy, who crouched against the protective maternal breast. I”m not absolutely sure of this, but I imagine that in the spirit of consistency the dramatists sent the Mother kitchenward to prepare the fatted calf for the banquet. What American prodigal would be properly re-established except over a meal home-cooked by his Mother?

Sounds ridiculous and, to us who love the story of the prodigal son, annoying and irritating. Broadway, with its fingers on the even-then-jittery pulse of the amusement world, felt that the Mother, not the Father, must have the centre of the stage. Father lapsed into his accustomed place as the mild menace in the backstage shadows.

MY BELATED TRIBUTE

Now this is a little booklet frankly in praise of Fathers. If my reader happens to be a Father, I present the booklet to him with a gesture of high regard and deep appreciation. If my reader should go from the reading of this booklet to say a grateful prayer for or a slightly abashed thank-you to his Father, I shall be fully repayed for my efforts.

Perhaps the very fact that I write this booklet indicates my advancing years. Either I have reached that period of late maturity, when we come to a deep understanding of the splendour of American Fathers, or I have relapsed into that age when Fathers are devotedly loved-the age of childhood-perhaps, alas! my second.

THE TWO PERIODS

For a little thought brings us all to the conclusion that during two periods of our lives we most clearly and happily appreciate the Fathers that Our Father in heaven gave us. The first period encompasses that early childhood when Dad is friend and giant protector and model and hero and beau ideal. The second is that time of life when we ourselves have grown old enough to evaluate life’s better gifts and have from the casualness and ingratitude of our own children been impelled to weep a bit over our disregard for our own Dad.

Certainly to the very young Dad is a grand person. Mother is sweet, but Dad is incredibly strong; Mother is gentle, but Dad is wise; Mother is an angel, but Dad is the nearest thing to a genius we’ll ever know.

During that very early period between the dawn of speech and the beginning of brashness, two attitudes may safely be expected of all young Americans: They will stoutly contest that their Mother is beautiful and a wonderful cook; they will vigorously assert in the face of all the neighbourhood youngsters that their Father can lick any Father or combination of Fathers in the block.

LET’S BRAG ABOUT DAD

Those are happy years for a Father when he knows that, whatever the discouraging facts of the case and the paucity of his personal attainments, he has in his young son a press agent of soaring imagination, a creator of fairy tales who has converted his Father into the invincible hero, a devout worshipper at the shrine of a paternal demigod.

Not long ago a cartoonist captioned a picture of a young son and his open-mouthed Father somewhat in this way: “Dad, the kids was all braggin” about their fathers; but I told “em you had a criminal record a mile long, and boy! oh, boy! did they ever shut their traps.”

A youngster, during that happy period of idolatry and ignorance, is certain that there is just nothing his Dad doesn’t know and absolutely nothing that he can’t do. In those days the boy or the girl runs to Dad for all conceivable information: why cows moo, and what makes grass green, and why ducks can fly and chicken’s can’t, and what’s the difference betweenmushrooms and toadstools, and if they aren’t guns then why do they call “em para-shoots? and “don’t you know more than all the teachers in all the schools in the world?”

For a time youngsters almost succeed in conferring on their Dads the omniscience and infallibility in which youngsters so ardently believe. Dads rise to the challenge with an answer for everything. Scientists might be slightly amazed. The experts on “Information, Please” might stupidly disagree. But when that youthful curly head bows in delighted acceptance of any and every answer that Dad offers, it is hard for a Father not to believe at least slightly in himself. Probably even a Delphic oracle would have ceased to quibble and would have become as infallible as a newspaper columnist if the questioner had been a boy or a girl turning on that look of trustful credulity and saying, “But you do know the answer to that, don’t you?”

DEFLATION

Sad is the day when Dad sees doubt rising in bright blue eyes and watches lips curving into a cruel “That’s not what teacher says.” Alas, that Dad’s solution of the mathematics problem should conflict so completely with the answer expected by the Sister in fourth grade. How tragic that Dad’s apodictic, if highly imaginative, statistics and explanations should have to be flung up alongside what some stupid textbook or some mere Ph.D. gives as the experiment-proved answer.

OMNIPOTENT

During that happy, trustful early period the child takes it for granted that Dad can do anything and everything. He made thatmechanical toy run, didn’t he? Well that’s just as amazing as if he had constructed the mechanical toy itself. He is fully conversant with all sorts of skillful games. He can teach the boy how to throw a curve and catch a fast pitch without ruining threefingers. He can make a wonderful kite; and though it may not fly, the fault is clearly the child’s, not the Father’s. He can make a top spin gracefully and demonstrate the proper knuckle grip for shooting marbles.

Dad can replace the wrenched arm on the roughhandled doll and put together again the broken parts of the doll’s house. He can not only read out of a fairytale book; he can, aided by a few bed sheets filched from Mother’s linen cupboard, construct a giant’s cave on a rainy afternoon. Let Santa bring a new game; Dad looks casually at some silly printing on the inside cover of the box, and he knows all about how the game is played.

There’s a glow that warms the hearts of Fathers as they overhear all argument being stopped by a confident son: “Well, my Dad says that’s the way he is, and my Dad knows what he’s talking about.” The child in those early years is rightfully amazed. For the Father unrolls before him the wonders which, simple as they seem to us in later years, are the complicated discoveries reached through long ages of human struggle: the use of wheel and knife and matches and chalk and letters and numbers, burning glass and mainsprings, athletic skills and accuracy of aim, bow and arrow, the simple trap, running water, gunpowder, theuse of steam and gas and electricity. How is the child to know that Dad himself didn’t invent all these things? He uses them with such skill and dexterity.

ADORING EYES

All in all that time is a glorious one for Fathers. The little son and daughter ask no more compelling joy than to sit in Father’s lap while he pulls out of memory’s files (and the far greater storehouse of imagination) stories he loved when he was their age.

They are content just to sit near him. They fall asleep more contentedly when they are clinging to his hand. Upon his return home at the end of the day’s work they greet him with an enthusiasm never vouchsafed a returning conqueror. They solemnly consider him a blend of Santa Claus, Edison, Alladin, the Grimm brothers, Mark Twain, and the minor prophets.

They bring him their broken fire engines and their first heart problems. They are blissfully happy if he consents to read to them. And they sit, silent adorers, as he creates with their building blocks marvels that would make any architectural school in the world shudder with distaste.

For a brief period he is not only Father and provider but high priest of the family hearth, genius beyond all compare, beneficient providence dispensing lollipops and wisdom, guardian angel and angel of just wrath against their enemies, almanac, “funny paper,” repository of the world’s choicest knowledge Olympian whose knees are a gentle acropolis.

TOO SWEET TO LAST

Regretfully we recall how short-lived is this period of Fatherly dominance. Soon the Father finds himself sinking into a neglect that amounts almost to oblivion. As a cheque writer his usefulness to his children endures. As the custodian of the keys of the car he is in demand. Otherwise . .

Might I suggest in a kind of parenthesis, that good natural reasons to encourage a Father to aim at a large family might be found right here? As one of his children grows from the age of adoring into that of bleakly neglecting, another child has just arrived. And when that second adorer has ascended to dull scepticism, a third is ready to take over. Birth control, as anyone can see, has done much to cut short that blissful period during which a Father dominates his children’s world.

All too soon does the period of change arrive when the worshipper at the paternal shrine becomes the swift transient who hardly pauses to wave or extend a greeting. And the Father sees the advent of that time with a sinking estimation of himself.

The boys and girls develop that all-engrossing busyness which is characteristic of youth. They have far more things to do than there are minutes in a week for their doing them. They recently heard Gene Krupa, so they spend all their free time practising the drums. They have begun a stamp collection (or any other sort of hobby) that requires concentrated attention. They are so busy playing ball or dolls or Indians or house or Lone Ranger or movie star that the return of Dad at the end of day is in the nature of a bothersome interruption.

DISILLUSION

Then they discover-first with annoyance, later with amazement, still later with something like disgust-that Dad is not the allover genius they had supposed. For new idols rise on their horizons, and they hold up Dad’s familiar but now shrinking figure for devastating comparisons.

Clearly he cannot play ball as Jo Di-Maggio does. That tune he picks out on the piano is pretty poor stuff compared to what Eddy Duchin coaxes out of a key-board. His best stories sound threadbare, and his wit is remarkably repetitious; Jack Benny or Bob Hope would refuse Dad’s repertoire houseroom in the script of a charity benefit. Even though last autumn he taught them the forward pass, this autumn they realise that he never was invited to a place in the backfield of the Chicago Bears. He has to answer no when they cruelly ask him whether he was ever chosen all-American. Once on a time he taught them to use boxing gloves; and even though he knelt down to box them, he could easily hold them out of range of his chin. Fine! But let’s see him climb into the ring and try that cream-puff stuff on the current welterweight champ.

So it comes to pass that they realise, and he realises that they realise, he is not the world’s greatest man.

THE DIRTY WORK

To Dad falls the unpleasant assignments. He must remind the children of duties they wanted to forget, of responsibilities they had carefully shoved back behind the closed doors of the cupboards of their minds, of homework not done, of errands not run for Mother, of toys and sports goods not put away, of household chores that they had hoped everyone would agree to overlook.

Dad’s voice takes on a note of menace. “I haven’t noticed you doing your home -work this week-end, have I? . What do you mean by getting wretchedly low marks like these? . . . Lookhere! Aren’t you going to be even half decent to your sister? . . . Is that any way for a girl of mine to treat her little brother? . . . I think that kid you brought into the yard Sunday is a little brat, and I don’t want to see you dragging him here again. . . . Unless you do the few simple things your Mother asks you to do, don’t expect any favours from me. . . . Don’t come to table with hands looking as if you’d put in the coal. . . . Are you sulking over your food?”

Poor Dad!

He comes to know Fatherhood as a mighty unpleasant job. It would be sweet and easy to act as a paying teller pouring out quarters and half dollars in a silver tine. It would be sweet to woo his children by admiring everything they do, financing their every caprice, applauding their every act, and repealing all law in order to be rewarded with their grateful smiles.

Instead he is forced into the position of Representative of the Law. He merits their frowns instead of their smiles. He has to put the brake on their fast-flying careers. He seems to be the party of the opposition. And since youthful whim is strong and new free will feels its first rebellious strength, he knows how furiously his children will resent all this.

SECOND PERIOD: CONTEMPT

Hard as Dad finds this period, he knows it is pleasant compared with the period that follows. Yet almost all American Fathers have to pass along that dreary, repellent way. He finds that he has become the object of his own children’s condescension-if not positive contempt.

Since he is probably a typical American Father, generous to his children and most eager for their future success, he has very likely given them an education considerably beyond what he himself had. He makes sure that they finish high school. Probably he sends them on to college. Maybe he has plans for professional careers for them. He lifts them higher and higher with infinite labour on his part.

Then from the heights on which he has laboriously and unselfishly placed them they look down upon him in mild amusement. ill-concealed pity, perhaps something close to contempt.

After all, they know so many things that he never learned. They have gone far ahead of the schooling he got. They will soon be professional men or the wives of professional men, while he-in the contemptuous English phrase-is in trade, working, perhaps, for someone else, just a wage-earner.

DAD’S OUT -OF-DATE

They soon come to think of Dad as an old fogey.

When they run across the stern Fathers who glower in the pages of English fiction, they nod their heads in recognition.

Yes; they have in their own home a Mr. Barrett of Wimpole Street. They listen to the windiness of Mr. Micawber, and they grin appreciatively. “Not unlike Dad,” they think, patronisingly.

No doubt about it, Dad is distinctly out-of-date. He tells jokes that are covered with moss and lichens. He is mystified when at the dinner table they use some current slang, and he tries to cap their colloquialisms with “wisecracks” right out of the happy “nineties. He can’t tell one swing band from another, though everyone “in the know” clearly spots this band as “smooth” and that one as “hot.”

When the son comes home with a new suit of carefully unmatched colours, the pants crying out their glad contrast to the coat, Father groans and mutters audibly. “Is the young fool colour-blind?” When the current craze in jewellery hangs about daughter’s neck, a string of old door keys, Dad, instead of recognising it as something right out of Hollywood, regards it as something right out of the madhouse.

He announces that Bill’s crew haircut reminds him of a Fuller brush. He de mands to know why in thunder daughter is eliminating her eyebrows. “Great heavens, girl! you look like a frightened Easter egg.” And all the while he fails to realise that her face is modelled on that of the latest star to rise in the screen heaven.

So as he utters these adult inanities and displays his complete ignorance of what is timely and fashionable, son and daughter exchange pitying but tolerant glances. Why must Dad be so Victorian? That was an amusing age, perhaps, quaint and primitive, but certainly no standard for those who live in a world of tomorrow.

DOWN FROM THEIR HEIGHTS

There is something like bitter irony in the fact that Dad gives his children opportunities and training he himself never had, lifts them-on his shoulders-above his level, and then is rewarded with the condescension of their downward glance. The son becomes a physician, while Father is manager of a drugstore. Daughter marries a lawyer who in a week earns more than her Father earns in a month. The children are “college bred”; the Father had to quit school when he was half-way through high school. So now he looks up to see them, on the heights he made possible, looking down upon “poor old Dad” and wondering why he never made more of a success of his life.

They can do things he never did, get into clubs he didn’t even attempt to crash, spend more on luxuries than he ever spent on necessities. Or, if they don’t actually surpass him-as is often the case-they have that arrogance which makes them sure that they could surpass him if they wanted to do it. So “dear old Dad” becomes the characterisation by which they patronise the Father who gave them all they have and made them what they are.

BUT IS HE OLD?

Take that adjective old for just a second. Strange that children never get over the conviction that their Father is something which just survived the Civil War. Though the years that separate Father from his children may be twenty-one or even less, though when the child is ten Dad is still in his early thirties, and when the children are in the twenties he is in the mellow forties of a man’s highest powers and strengths, they marvel how he manages to get around without the aid of crutches or a wheel chair steered by an attendant.

When eventually they reach that same age or that delightful period of life when we think of ourselves as “young men of fifty,” they grow ashamed of that earlier stupid miscalculation which makes infants regard any man of maturity as out of place everywhere except in an armchair before the fire.

SMALL SYMPATHY OR UNDERSTANDING

For those long, long years of their youth (and -let’s be frank-of their immaturity) children give their Fathers a pretty poor time of it.

The garrulousness of advancing years gets small understanding from chatty youth. The anecdotes that Dad loves to tell seem utterly meandering and pointless compared to the “wisecracks” by which they snap at a laugh. The speed-up of youth is impatient with the slowdown of age.

Dad finds himself by the judgment of his children condemned to a senility that his youthful arteries belie. At a time when his brain is really at its peak, he is in their eyes a fossil. He doesn’t always beat his son on the links; but that is because he can’t, like the son, get out to practice three afternoons a week-not to mention school holidays. Granted that he finds the rhumba a little intricate, he wistfully wishes that his daughter would let him show her a few of the tricky steps he used to execute when he was making the Castles jealous.

THE PERIOD THAT LASTS

Alas, that these periods of preoccupation, misunderstanding, pity, and contempt should occupy so many long, silly, regretted years!

For there arrives a time in the lives of all men and women born to human parents (a sweeping category) when Dad comes back into his own. This time he does not receive the unreasoning adoration of childhood. What his children give him, is a mature, sober, grateful tribute that bespeaks their realisation of what Dad has meant in their lives. They may be filled with deep contrition for the short shrift he got from them, the children he loved and deserved. They make a belated admission that Dad was one of the really grand people who influenced their lives, one of the really powerful forces that helped shape their maturity.

For many children this final period of truth and understanding comes too late. Often Dad has gone home to God by the time a sense of values has balanced the children’s appreciations. They are grown-up men and women when they acquire those values; and by that time Dad may have been-in the happy Scriptural phrase-gathered to his Fathers.

Perhaps this period comes when the son has himself become a Father and already feels upon his own shoulders the heavy burdens of Fatherhood. From his own experience with his children he grows to appreciate the grace his Father displayed. the strength and uncomplaining generosity that characterised him when he carried similar loads. Or from her experience in Motherhood the daughter comes to know that while to all parents is given joy in full measure, yet responsibility and loads are almost too heavy to be borne. So in delayed apology she smiles upon Dad, the gallant man who shouldered the weight of his Fatherhood in so happy, blithe, courageous a fashion.

WISE DAD

We know now from our own increasing understanding of human characters why he instantly disliked that young fellow we brought home, the fellow whom later on we recognised to be smooth as satin and rotten as Satan.

We know now why he grew furious when the possibility of our marrying that light-weight dawned upon him. When he had cried, angrily, “You’ll not marry that cream puff,” we had dismissed him as an antique trying to play a Victorian heavy.

When we see the circles under our own children’s eyes, we understand why he thought late hours bad for us during our adolescent years. He hated to see us robbed of sleep; even more he dreaded our being out when the werewolves of the cities stalk the highways, their jaws slavering for young flesh.

That recurrent stern look in his eye we now know to have been, not anger, but worry. If he set his jaw, the determination back of it was to protect us against ignorant folly, not to thwart us of joy. Sometimes he seemed stingy; but it was not easy for him to hold back the generous allowance that he knew might prove an easy way to buy sin.

When he insisted that we earn good marks, he was no ogre crouched above us, cracking a driver’s whip; he was a provident guardian of our future who hoped we’d drain each last ounce of opportunity, since only thus could we build our characters and shape our potentialities to meet and master the future.

CALM, FAR-SEEING EYES

His shrewd eyes saw through the fakes and pretences of the young smart alecks who first fascinated us and later showed themselves to be worthless parasites. We didn’t fool him with our flimsy pretexts and our glibly rehearsed excuses-even when he pretended to be fooled.

Oh, yes; he was too busy earning a living for us to worry his head much about the factors that distinguished Glen Miller from Benny Goodman. He was old enough to know that slang is merely a sign of sloppy conversation and a substitute for thought. His jokes grew stale as his life went more deeply into serious things-things like getting together enough money so that he could send us to college, or making sure that Mother and the kids had a grand vacation at the lakes, even if he had to stay on the job, vacationless.

DAD WAS A GREAT MAN

From the mounting years we look back at Dad and realize what a great man he really was. The fact that he was so often silent did not make him less a shaping influence on our characters. Yes; Mother held the house together. But could she have made it the lovely place it was if Dad had not been generous with his income? There never was a period when Mother quite lost the affection and love of her children; but never once did Dad begrudge this to her or resent the fact that the children turned from him to her, loving her with a frank affection while giving to him merely the perfunctory kiss, the attention that was hardly more than the wave of a thoughtless hand.

We begin to see Dad through Mother’s eyes. And that makes him grow immeasurably in stature. We know him as that incomparable man whom that supreme woman thought worthy out of all the male world to be her husband. Yes; he was the mate that our magnificent Mother had the good taste to love and cling to all the days of her married life.

AN UNNOTICED HERO

My own Mother died when I was in my early forties. My Father had died a few years before.

When my Mother went home to God, the most natural impulse I”ve ever known was that of wanting to write her biography. This I did in a fairly lengthy book I called simply, “My Mother.” Into it I wrote a story which I hoped would make my readers see in my Mother one of those lovely women who have been to their children their first love and their longest enthusiasm.

Inevitably my Father had to enter the book. He was very important to my Mother. Yet I presented him, as in retrospect he appeared to me, as an entirely secondary character illuminated almost entirely by the light my Mother cast upon him.

I gave him a full chapter. But it turned out to be a chapter in which I presented him from the aspect of what he had meant to my Mother, and what, as I thought, she had made of him.

As far as I could recall, when I came to think about him, I knew my Father rather slightly. He was, you see, the typical American Father: He left the house before we children were well awake, returned in the evening when the important things of the day were all over, sent us off for holidays that he never took time to share with us, and of a Sunday, in the days before he became a Catholic, was busy putting up the screens. fixing the furnace, cutting the lawns, or doing any of the thousand trifles that consume the holidays of a suburban householder.

THE MISTY FIGURE

I could recall easily that period when he had been vastly important in my life, the period when I, like most children, crawled onto his knee and coaxed from his willing memory the stories of his own boyhood. His power of narrative must have been vivid. For almost more clearly than I remembered him I could recall his home in New York; his minister Father, whom he always adored; the dog Rover, who became a mythological figure not unlike Paul Bunyan’s blue ox; and the beloved invalid brother, whom he had carried on his strong young shoulders through the snows to school.

That happy era was clear in my memory. After that my recollection of him grew confused and blurred. Out of this comes in high light his attitude toward my education and vocation.

When my Mother decided that I should have a college training, he must have tightened his belt an extra notch, worked a little harder, and made that luxury possible for me. My Mother selected old St. Ignatius, on Chicago’s west side.

One of his many non-Catholic friends sneered at the college she had chosen for me.

“Why in thunder do you let your boy go to that place? The only things they turn out there are priests and ballplayers.”

My Father knew nothing of Catholic education and less of that particular school. But he had high respect for the faultless character of my Mother’s taste. So his defence was a joke.

“Well,” he said, though he was still a non-Catholic, “if my son makes good at either, that won’t be such a bad life.”

HE STEPS ASIDE

When the hour struck for my decision to enter the Religious life, I went to him (he was a convert of just two years) with the news. Naturally, I was a little afraid of his reply. He had often talked happily of the possibility of his having grandchildren; of my carrying on the family name, of which he was mildly proud; of the happy years we would all share together, my family growing up near Mother and himself. My decision would be a blow, and I wondered rather callously but nonetheless curiously how he’d take it.

He took it with the same self-obliteration he showed all during his life. He wanted to know first what Mother thought. Then he asked quietly if I was sure it was what I wanted. Then he said, simply, “If that is what will make you happy, it’s the thing for you to do. By all means go ahead with it.”

Dear, self-effacing Dad!

MINOR CHARACTER?

Yet as I say, when I came to write my Mother’s story, my Father dwindled-or so I thought-into a very minor character. He was the man to whom I had given little thought, a careless gesture of casual love, with the result that about him I had only confused, blurred memories.

The book appeared, and immediately to my surprise I began to get the most amazing reactions.

People I”d never met wrote in and demanded to know why I didn’t write a life of my Father.

“We liked him tremendously,” they said. And often, “He made me think of my Dad.”

Strangers who had never met him wrote me that they wished they’d been numbered among his friends. Friends of his who stumbled across the book wrote me with a caressing affection of his virtues, his fine humanity, his gift for friendliness.

I was so surprised that I went back to the book to see what it was that I had written-without my knowing it. Writers, you know, often write under pressure of some inner impulse that they hardly realise exists. They are later puzzled to find what has, unsummoned and unrecognised, slipped out at the end of a pencil.

There I found him in the pages, misty, indistinct, blurred in outline, a poor piece of characterisation, yet the figure of a man who was not only my Dad but the thousands and thousands of unappreciated Fathers who have made possible the homes and lives of America’s lucky children.

From among the many who wrote me about my Father I can recall getting only one letter from a single young person. The writers were, in the main, people a little older than myself, people who had recognised in my rather careless sketch of my Father the Dads they had themselves known, loved a bit, neglected rather badly, and with years come to idealise and dream about.

I knew that they weren’t falling in love with my Father; they were seeing around him the outlines of their own Fathers.

AN UNSUNG HERO

I shall never be able to tell my Father’s story in detail or to carve his literary image in the round. Like the majority of American children, I never came to know my Father well enough for that. Yet from the vantage of the years I now know-like those others who read about him and wrote me because he reminded them of their own Fathers-a little of what he meant to me.

Was he in the end fully as important to me as my Mother was?

Was he, perhaps, in some ways more important to me?

Did his laborious life register itself upon my mind even while I was accepting it ungraciously as my due and complaining in my inner, selfish soul because he did not work harder and earn more?

Did the man who kissed me in the early morning and greeted me with late-evening cheerfulness that belied the tiring work of the day really grave deep in my character a mark that in later years was to make my own not-idle day seem by comparison absolutely leisurely?

Did the idealising that he gave my Mother affect me to the point where I idealised the other daughters of Mary?

Was it his generous love for his home that made me regard with affectionate eagerness all other homes as the centres from which comes all that is best and most lasting and genuine in our civilisation?

INGRATITUDE

I have hadmy moments of blushful shame that I took my Father’s gifts with so little of thankfulness. I have felt my face hot at the memory of the time I sold a story during my college years and bragged that my one yarn had brought me more than his weekly pay envelope contained. (I hit the “jackpot once in those ancient days; his pay envelope was as regular as the seasons.)

My Mother’s financial wizardry was something I could not fail to see; I was blind to the utter trustfulness that made by Father turn over to her his entire weekly salary. He taught me without words how one man can love one woman all the days of his devoted life; monogamy has always seemed to me sweet, simple, and natural. I regard the philanderer with contempt when I recall the oblivion into which my Father consigned all other women but the one he married.

Alas! the day was to come when he would be forced gently to defend my Mother against my youthful selfishness. He atoned for my constant social absences from the house by a complete acquiescence in whatever she might want to do.

MY OWN SUCCESSIVE STAGES

Yes; I went through those three early stages: the age of intense love and adoration; the age of growing aloofness; the age of condescending contempt. But during those teen years, attractive as they must often seem, cannot be rightly expected much wisdom or character discernment in children. I had to grow up, way, way up, before I could pay tribute to “Lucky George,” who willingly put aside his love of gambling rather than risk the family’s security. I had to see much more of life before I could realize the stainless loyalty that turned a husband into a tireless lover and a protective knight.

Exquisite manners do not have enough of the spectacular to blast themselves upon the attention of youth. Only when later I searched my memory and could find no trace of hasty word or unkind speech, no gesture that was not thoughtful, no conduct that could not have been displayed before the most critical guests, no least profanity or slightest vulgarity, no crudeness or roughness, only then did I appreciate the gentleman I was lucky enough to have had as my Father.

WHO’S CRITICISING NOW?

Youth constantly complains that age is bitterly critical, refuses to understand the younger generation, and simply will not make allowances. In a way that is true. We oldsters do find noisiness often unnecessary and bad manners usually stupid and the aggressive selfishness of youth frequently trying to peace and calm order.

But what about the critical attitude of youth towardage? What about young people’s smart-alecky contempt for the opinions which, however dated they may seem, have on their side the strength of experience? What about youth’s calm patronage of those to whom the young owe everything and have as yet paid nothing? How about youth’s unwillingness to take a few extra steps in order to accommodate age, to make a few allowances for life-long prejudices, to try a little to understand maturer viewpoints?

HIS JUDGMENT WAS RIGHT

Once, I recall, my Father was invited to be judge at the debate of the high school that was connected with my college. With all the calm arrogance of the college sophomore I was, I sat beside him during the debate. He needed, I took for granted, the judgment of my trained mind. As a favour to him I would plant myself near him to balance for him argument against argument, to interpret for him values in subject treatment and style of presentation.

My cheeks grow red as in memory I see myself leaning over after each speech and delivering for myFather’s benefit my learned opinion. I now humble myself before the man who took that opinion and marked his paper as I indicated. Up to the very end . . .

The last speaker in rebuttal was a brilliant lad. He had the gift (it may later have proved a curse) of fluent gab. He could make a statement sound like an argument, a “wisecrack” ring true as a statistic. So when he rose, he had, since he was the final speaker, all the arguments of his opponents on which to draw a bead. He peppered those arguments with buckshot. With satire and cynicism and ridicule he tore into all the preceding speeches. He gave a brilliant display of fireworks, and they dazzled my young eyes. I admired him as amazingly clever; I laughed at his witticisms; I applauded as he sailed against sound argument with the power of a stiletto tongue.

When he was banged down by the chairman’s gavel, I leaned over to my Father and said, in all my cocky assurance: “Wonderful! He demolished our kids, didn’t he?”

My Father lifted to me eyes clouded as I”d seldom seen them. Now I know that he hated to hurt me and yet knew he must. He didn’t want to disagree with my glib decision, but he saw through the clever faker.

“Whipped cream!” he said, using his favourite term of contempt for things beneath consideration. “A smart tongue and a clever wit that didn’t touch a single argument.”

I was indignant. In fact, I came close to fury. I felt acutely hurt. “How like the old codgers of his generation!” I thought. “Impressed with dull statistics and plodding facts and missing entirely the charm and brilliancy of a witty, clever, acidspewing mind!” I turned away in embarrassment. I was ashamed of my Dad.

God forgive me! I know my Father forgave me then and does today. For across the years I know how right his judgment was. He was too wise to be tricked by a fluent tongue and too mature to mistake wit for truth and acid for argument. But it took me long, long years to learn that much. And it has taken me longer years to apologise to God and to my Dad for the stupid vanity and misapprehensions of my youth.

NOT ALWAYS THUS

We have grown so accustomed to the lavish generosity, the devoted love and service of Fathers that we forget that Fathers have not always been this way toward their homes and children.

We might revert to pagan days or pagan lands. There was an age in Rome when the nurse laid the newborn baby in the arms of the Father while he decided whether or not the child had the right to live. We can see the Chinese Father of very recent date tossing out his girl baby to be picked up by slave dealers-if they found her before she died and the Hindu Fathers who bind their infant sons to baby girls in premature marriage.

The purple-in-the-face, table-pounding Father of English 1iterature is no creation of an author’s mind. He existed and ruled the house with an iron hand that did not trouble to wear a velvet glove while he was in the family circle.

Since God and nature made the Father the head of the family, the Father often found it easy enough to presume upon his right in most arbitrary fashion. To him went all the privileges and the delicacies. He was served while the rest waited. The children spoke when he nodded, were silent when he frowned. He was lord and master, and the others were his servants and his serfs.

But what a change came over Fathers when they learned to model themselves on Our Father Who is in heaven! What a difference in the parent who patterned himself on the great Creator of all life and the self-effacing, modest, retiring foster Father of Christ, Joseph of Nazareth!

MEET SOME SIMPLE FATHERS

I have enjoyed meeting in my travels American Fathers. I have talked at Father-Son dinners and watched fine Catholic Fathers glow with pride as they sat at the side of their youngmen sons. I”ve talked to waiters and taxi drivers and workmen about their sons, and I”ve seen their eyes light with pride and pleasure as they boasted of their children.

There was the waiter behind the oyster bar in New York, so proud that a son of his had entered the seminary the preceding autumn, so worried that the second lad, for all his opportunities, was making a failure of life.

There’s the waiter in the 44th Street district, with a son who finished Fordham (sent through college on the meagre salary and tips of his Dad) and a girl now secretary to an important business executive.

The taxi driver who drove me to the Penn Station talked-under my gentle prodding-of his children. He had a son who was a doctor in upper Manhattan and another son who had finished law and passed the State bar. One daughter was happily married “to a fine young dentist”; another was a teacher in the public-school system.

“Pretty good on a cabman’s income,” I said.

“Why not? What’s a Dad got to live for but his children?” he answered. “I”m proud they’re where they are. And they’ll never need to worry; I don’t expect a penny back from any of them.”

Or the young taxi driver who got to talking about his growing family.

“My oldest is sixteen, a mechanical genius, father. He’s learning to be an air-plane mechanic, and he’s good. . . . Two girls, both in school . . . and the wife and I are planning to send “em through college. A girl’s safe teaching in a classroom. I don’t like my girls bucking life in the big city.”

“I”m surprised,” I suggested, “that you don’t take the night shift. There’s more money in driving a taxi after six at night, isn’t there?”

“Sure there is. But miss the evenings with my kids? Not on your life! The youngest is nine, and he’s my pal. Believe me, I rush home the minute I get through. No stopping off at a bar. No wasting time I could spend with the kid. You ought to hear him when I come up the stairs. He raises the roof. What a reception! Isn’t easy shoving a cab all over town twelve hours a day. But Iforget all about it when I get home at night to the kids. And what kids!”

The great American Father!

LIKE UNTO GOD

No one can ever take from Mother all that she merits from us. But there are times when Dad seems very like the Almighty Father.

From him comes the gift of life. He is God’s associate creator. And how can we be grateful enough for the thousands and thousands of pure, fine Fathers who have passed on the gift of human life, sound and clean, to their splendid children?

Like God, he is the provider. Our homes are of his making. The food upon our table is of his providing. He has made possible that wonderful thing we know as our way of life. There is no one finer.

Like God, he gets little enough in return. Love from his children is perfunctory and often chilly. Gratitude from them is rare enough in his life. Yet, like God, he is not deterred by this from labour or love or planning. He gives without asking return. He works and is satisfied with the happiness that he provides his children.

May the Father in heaven bless these splendid Fathers on earth.

And may we, who owe them the love and loyalty of a lifetime, give them a little of gratitude during their lifetimes. May they find a place in our grateful prayers. May they know the warmth of our affection. May they realise that we are not unaware of their part in all that we are and do.

May we ask the gracious Father in heaven to be wonderfully generous to the splendid men who are our Catholic Fathers.

Nihil obstat:

FRANCISCUS MOYNIHAN, Censor Deputatus.

Imprimatur:

@ D. MANNIX,

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis.

********

In The Little Way of Saint Therese of Lisieux

INDEX

PREFACE

SAINT TERESA on being asked shortly before her death what was the “little way” she was so eager to teach others, replied:

“IT IS THE WAY OF SPIRITUAL CHILDHOOD, THE WAY OF TRUST AND ABSOLUTE SELFSURRENDER

I want to point out to souls the means that I have always found so completely successful, to tell them there is only one thing to do here below-to offer Our Lord the flowers of little sacrifices and win Him by our caresses. That is how I have won Him, and that is why I shall be made so welcome.”

The following extracts have been taken from the English translation of the Saint’s Autobiography (by kind permission of Father T. N. Taylor). They include in the Saint’s own words advice which she gave by letter and by counsel to those who sought her guidance.

It is hoped that the extracts may serve as signposts on the Little Way for those desirous of following the Saint therein and may lead them to a closer study of the Autobiography itself, in which the Little Way is so simply and attractively set forth.

SAINT TERESA AND THE HOLY SEE

. . there is a call to the Faithful of every nation, no matter what may be their age, sex, or state of life, to enter wholeheartedly into the little way which led Soeur Therese to the summit of heroic virtue . . .” (Allocution by Pope Benedict XV, Aug. 14th, 1921)

“Therefore do We desire earnestly that all the Faithful of Christ should render themselves worthy of partaking in the abundant profusion of graces resulting from the intercession of little Therese. But We desire much more earnestly that ALL THE FAITHFUL SHOULD STUDY HER IN ORDER TO COPY HER becoming children themselves, since otherwise they cannot, according to the oracle of the Master, arrive at the Kingdom of Heaven.

If the way of spiritual childhood became general, who does not see how easily would be realized the reformation of human society which We set ourselves to accomplish at the commencement of Our Pontificate, and more especially in the promulgation of this Jubilee? We, therefore, adopt as our own the prayer of the new Saint Teresa with which she ends her invaluable autobiography: O Jesus, We beseech Thee to cast Thy glance upon the vast number of little souls, and to choose in this world a legion of little victims worthy of Thy love.’ Amen.( Sermon of Pope Pius XI at Canonisation of Saint Teresa, May 17th, 1925.”)

LESSON OF ST. TERESA

‘May she teach everyone “the little royal road” of the spirit of childhood, which is the exact opposite of behaving childishly, of taking no initiative and of remaining sunk in misery! We invite all men of goodwill, particularly the humble and the humiliated, to meditate on this hopeful paradox.” ( Letter of Pope Paul VI to the Bishop of Bayeux and Lisieux, January 2nd, 1973)

THE SECRET OF SANCTITY

Jesus . . . O! I would so love Him! Love Him as He has never yet been loved. St Teresa of Lisieux

THE WAY OF PERFECTION

You ask me for a method of attaining perfection. I know of Love—and Love only! Our hearts are made for it alone. Sometimes I endeavour to find some other word for love; but in a land of exile words which have a beginning and an end are quite unable to render adequately the emotions of the soul, and so we must keep to the one simple word-Love.

THE WAY OF LOVE

How sweet is the way of Love! True, one may fall and be unfaithful to grace, but Love knows how to draw profit from everything, and quickly consumes whatever may be displeasing to Our Lord, leaving in the heart only a deep and humble peace.

But how shall I show my love, since love proves itself by deeds? I, the little one, will strew flowers, perfuming the Divine Throne with their fragrance. I will sing Love’s canticle in silvery tones. Thus will my short life be spent in Thy sight, O my Beloved! To strew flowers is the only means of proving my love, and these flowers will be each word and look, each little daily sacrifice. I wish to make profit out of the smallest actions and do them all for Love. For Love’s sake I wish to suffer and to rejoice: so shall I strew my flowers. Not one that I see but, singing all the while, I will scatter its petals before Thee. Should my roses be gathered from amid thorns, I will sing notwithstanding, and the longer and sharper the thorns, the sweeter will grow my song.

There is but one thing to be done here below: to love Jesus, and to save souls for Him that He may be more loved. We must not let slip the smallest opportunity of giving Him joy. We must refuse Him nothing. He is in such need of love.

DISINTERESTED LOVE

I do not desire the thrill of love which I can feel; if Jesus feels its thrill, then that is enough for me. It is so sweet to love Him, to make Him loved.

It would not disturb me if (supposing the impossible) God Himself did not see my good actions. I love Him so much, that I would like to give Him joy without His knowing who gave it. When He does know, He is, as it were, obliged to make a return.

Offer to God the sacrifice of never gathering any fruit off your tree. If it be His will that throughout your whole life you should feel a repugnance to suffering and humiliation-if He permits all the flowers of your desires and of your goodwill to fall to the ground without any fruit appearing, do not worry. At the hour of death, in the twinkling of an eye, He will cause rich fruits to ripen on the tree of your soul.

. . . It is for us to console Our Lord, and not for Him to be always consoling us. His Heart is so tender that if you cry He will dry your tears; but thereafter He will go away sad, since you did not suffer Him to repose tranquilly within you. Our Lord loves the glad of heart, the children that greet Him with a smile. When will you learn to hide your troubles from Him, or to tell Him gaily that you are happy to suffer for Him?

SPIRITUAL CHILDHOOD

Whosoever is a little one, let him come to Me. Prov. 9: 4.

SELF-SURRENDER

Jesus deigns to point out to me the only way which leads to Love’s divine furnace, and that way is self-surrender: it is the confidence of the little child who sleeps without fear in its father’s arms. Through the mouth of Solomon, the Holy Ghost has said: “ Whosoever is a little one, let him come unto Me,” and elsewhere the same Spirit of Love declares that “to him that is little, mercy is granted.” Wis. 6: 7. In His name, too, the Prophet Isaias reveals how on the last day the Lord “shall feed His flock like a shepherd: He shall gather together the lambs with His arm, and shall take them up into His bosom.” Isa. 40: 11.

And, as though all these proofs were insufficient, the ‘same Prophet, whose inspired gaze penetrated the depths of eternity, cried out: “Thus saith the Lord: You shall be carried at the breasts and upon the knees they shall caress you. As one whom the mother caresseth, so will I comfort you.” Isa. 66: 12, 23

If all weak and imperfect souls such as mine felt as I do, none would despair of reaching the summit of the mountain of .

Love, since Jesus does not look for deeds, but only for gratitude and self-surrender.

Now I have no further desire unless it be to love Jesus even unto folly! Love alone draws me. I wish for neither suffering nor death, yet both are precious to me, and I have long called upon them as the messengers of joy. Already I have suffered much; already it has seemed to me that my barque was nearing the Eternal Shore. From my earliest years I believed the Little Flower would be gathered in her springtime, but now the spirit of self-abandonment is my sole guide-I have no other compass. I am no longer able to ask eagerly for anything save the perfect accomplishment of God’s design on my soul.

I desire neither death nor life. Were Our Lord to offer me my choice, I would not choose. I only will what He wills, and I am pleased with whatever He does. I have no fear of the last struggle, or of any pain, however great, which my illness may bring. God has always been my help; He has led me by the hand since I was a child and I count on Him now. Even though suffering should reach its furthest limits I am certain He will never forsake me.

KEEPING LITTLE

How little known is the merciful love of the Heart of Jesus! It is true that to enjoy that treasure we must humble ourselves, must confess our nothingness . . . and here is where many a soul draws back.

It is possible to remain little even in the most responsible position, and besides is it not written, that at the last day “The Lord will arise and save the meek and lowly ones of the earth”? Cf. Ps. 75: 10

He does not say “to judge” but “to save!”

You do wrong to find fault, and to try to make everyone see things from your point of view. We desire to be as little children. Now, little children do not know what is best. Everything is right in their eyes. Let us imitate them.

When we keep little we recognize our own nothingness and expect everything from the goodness of God, exactly as a little child expects everything from its father. Nothing worries us, not even the amassing of spiritual riches.

Again, being as a little child with God means that we do not attribute to ourselves the virtues we may possess, in the belief that we are capable of something. It implies, on the contrary, our recognition of the fact that God places the treasure of virtue in the hand of His little child for him to use as he needs it, though all the while it is God’s treasure.

Finally, to keep little means not to lose courage at the sight of our faults. Little children often tumble, but they are too small to suffer grievous injury.

COURAGE

Do not let your weakness make you unhappy. When, in the morning, we feel no courage or strength for the practice of virtue, it is really a grace: it is the time to “lay the axe to the root of the trees,” Matt. 3:10 relying upon Jesus alone. If we fall, an act of love will set all right, and Jesus smiles. He helps us without seeming to do so; and the tears which sinners cause Him to shed are wiped away by our feeble love. Love can do all things. The most impossible tasks seem to it easy and sweet. You know well that Our Lord does not look so much at the greatness of our actions, or even at their difficulty, as at the love with which we do them. What, then, have we to fear?

TRUST IN THE JUSTICE OF GOD

. . . Though one must indeed be pure before appearing in the sight of the All-Holy God, still I know that He is infinitely just, and the very justice which terrifies so many souls is the source of all my confidence and joy. Justice is not only stern severity towards the guilty; it takes account of the good intention, and gives to virtue its reward. Indeed, I hope as much from the justice of God as from His mercy. “He is compassionate and merciful, long-suffering, and plenteous in mercy. For He knoweth our frame, He remembereth that we are dust. As a father hath compassion on his children, so hath the Lord compassion on them that fear Him.’” Ps. 102: 8, 13, 14.

THE BOUNDLESS LOVE OF THE SACRED HEART

If the greatest sinner on earth should repent at the moment of death, and draw his last breath in an act of love, neither the many graces he had abused, nor the many sins he had committed, would stand in his way. Our Lord would see nothing, count nothing, but the sinner’s last prayer, and without delay He would receive him into the arms of His mercy.

But to make Him thus blind and incapable of reckoning the number of our sins, we must approach Him through His Heart-on that side He is defenceless.

CONFIDENCE

With daring confidence, and reckless of self, I will remain there till death, my gaze fixed upon the Divine Sun. Nothing shall affright me, neither wind or rain; and should impenetrable clouds conceal from my eyes the Orb of Love, should it seem to me that beyond this life there is darkness only, this would be the hour of perfect joy, the hour in which to urge my confidence to its uttermost bounds, for knowing that beyond the dark clouds my Sun is still shining, I should never dare to change my place. . . . O Divine Sun, I am happy to feel myself so small and frail in Thy presence, and my heart is at peace.

We can never have too much confidence in our God who is so mighty and so merciful. As we hope in Him so shall we receive.

The Heart of Jesus is more grieved by the thousand little imperfections of His friends than by the faults, even grave, which His enemies commit. But His heart thrills with joy when He has to deal with all those who truly love, and who after each little fault come to fling themselves into His arms, imploring forgiveness.

Patience with Ourselves

It may be that at some future day my present state will appear to me full of defects, but nothing now surprises me. Nor does my utter helplessness distress me; I even glory in it, and expect each day to reveal some fresh imperfection. Indeed these lights on my own nothingness do me more good than lights on matters of faith.

The remembrance of my faults humbles me, and helps me never to rely upon my own strength, which is mere weakness. More than all, it speaks to me of mercy and of love. When a soul with childlike trust casts her faults into Love’s all-devouring furnace, how can they escape being utterly consumed?

I know that many saints have passed their lives in the practice of amazing penance for the sake of expiating their sins. But what of that? “In My Father’s house there are many mansions.” John 14: 2.

These are the words of Jesus, and therefore I follow the path He marks out for me; I try to be nowise concerned about myself, and to abandon unreservedly to Him the work He deigns to accomplish in my soul.

He reaches out His hand to us, the very moment He sees us fully convinced of our nothingness, and hears us cry out: “My foot stumbles Lord, but Thy mercy is my strength.”Ps. 93: 18. Should we attempt great things, however, even under pretext of zeal, He deserts us. So all we have to do is to humble ourselves, to bear with meekness our imperfections. Herein lies-for us -true holiness.

Do not think we can find love without suffering, for our nature remains and must be taken into account; but suffering puts great treasures within our reach. Indeed it is our very livelihood and so precious that Jesus came down upon earth on purpose to possess it. Of course, we should like to suffer generously and nobly; we should like never to fall. What an illusion! What does it matter if I fall at every moment! In that way I realize my weakness, and the gain is considerable. My God, Thou seest how little I am good for, away from Thy divine arms; and if Thou leavest me alone, well, it is because it pleases Thee to see me lie on the ground. Then why should I be troubled?

If you are willing to bear in peace the trial of not being pleased with yourself, you will be offering the Divine Master a home in your heart. It is true that you will suffer, because you will be like a stranger to your own house; but do not be afraid-the poorer you are, the more Jesus will love you. I know that He is better pleased to see you stumbling in the night upon a stony road, than walking in the full light o day upon a path carpeted with flowers, because these flowers might delay your advance.

PRAYER

For me, prayer is an uplifting of the heart, a glance towards Heaven, a cry of gratitude and of love in times of sorrow as well as of joy. It is somethirig noble, something super-natural, which expands the soul and unites it to God.

To secure a hearing there is no need to recite set prayers composed for the occasion. . . . I have not the courage to search through books for beautiful prayers; they are so numerous, that it would only make my head ache, and besides, each one is more lovely than the other. Unable either to say them all or to choose between them, I do as a child would do who cannot read-I say just what I want to say to God, quite simply and He never fails to understand.

THE APOSTOLATE OF PRAYER

Why does He deign to say: “Pray ye the Lord of the harvest that He send forth labourers”? Matt. 9: 38. It is because the delicacy of His love for us surpasses all understanding, that He wishes us to share in all He does. The Creator of the universe awaits the prayer of a poor little soul to save a multitude of other souls, ransomed, like her, at the price of His blood.

Our vocation is not to go forth and reap in our Father’s fields. Jesus does not say to us: “Look down and reap the harvest.” Our mission is even more sublime. “Lift up your eyes and see,” John 4: 35. He tells us, “see how in Heaven there are empty thrones. It is for you to fill them. . . . You are as Moses praying on the mountain so ask Me for labourers and they shall be sent. I only await a prayer, a sigh!”

Is not the apostleship of prayer-so to speak-higher than that of the spoken word? It is for us by prayer to train workers who will spread the glad tidings of the Gospel and who will save countless souls-the souls to whom we shall be the spiritual mothers. What then, have we to envy in the priests of the Lord?

HOLY COMMUNION

I suppose I ought to be distressed that I so often fall asleep during meditation and thanksgiving after Holy Communion, but I reflect that little children, asleep or awake, are equally dear to their parents; that to perform operations doctors put their patients to sleep; and finally, that “The Lord knoweth our frame. He remembereth that we are but dust.” Ps. 102: 14.

There is no time when I have less consolation-yet this is not to be wondered at, since it is not for my own satisfaction that I desire to receive Our Lord but solely to give Him pleasure.

Picturing my soul as a piece of waste ground, I beg of Our Lady to take away my imperfections, which are as heaps of rubbish, and to raise upon it a spacious pavilion worthy of Heaven, and beautify it with her own adornments. I next invite thither all the Angels and Saints to sing canticles of love, and it seems to me that Jesus is well pleased to find Himself welcomed with such magnificence, while I, too, share His joy. But this does not keep off distractions and drowsiness, and I often resolve to continue my thanksgiving throughout the day in amends for having made it so badly in choir.

You see, dear Mother, that my way is not the way of fear; I can always find means to be happy and to profit by my failings, and Our Lord Himself encourages me to do so.

DRYNESS IN PRAYER

When my state of spiritual aridity is such that not a single good thought will come, I repeat very slowly, the “Our Father” and the “Hail Mary,” which suffice to console me, and provide divine food for my soul.

When I am in this state of spiritual dryness, unable to pray, or to practise virtue, I look for little opportunities, for the smallest trifles, to give pleasure to Jesus; a smile or a kind word, for instance, when I would wish to be silent, or to show that I am bored. If no such occasion offer, I try at least to say over and over again that I love Him. This is not heard, and it keeps alive the fire in my heart. Even should the fire of love seem dead, I would still throw my tiny straws on the ashes, and I am confident it would light up again.

It is true I am not always faithful, but I never lose courage. I leave myself in the arms of Our Lord. He teaches me “to draw profit from everything, from the good and from the bad which He finds in me.” St John of the Cross. He teaches me to speculate in the bank of love, or rather it is He who speculates for me, without telling me how He does it-that is His affair, not mine. I have but to surrender myself wholly to Him, to do so without reserve, without even the satisfaction of knowing what it is all bringing to me. . . . For I am not the prodigal child, and Jesus need not trouble about a feast for me-I am always with Him. Cf. Luke 15: 31

SIMPLICITY

Their loss is gain who all forsake To find Thy love, O Jesu mine! For Thee my ointment jar I break, The perfume of my life is Thine. St Teresa of Lisieux

PRAYING FOR OTHERS

The days would be too short to ask in detail for the needs of each soul and I am afraid I might forget something important. Complicated methods are not for simple souls and, as I am one of these Our Lord Himself has inspired me with a very simple way of fulfilling my obligations.

One day, after Holy Communion, He made me understand these words of Solomon:

“Draw me: we will run after Thee to the odour of Thy ointments.” Cant. 1: 3. O my Jesus, there is no need then to say: In drawing me, draw also the souls that I love. The words “Draw me” suffice. When a soul has been captivated by the odour of Thy perfumes she cannot run alone; as a natural consequence of her attraction towards Thee, all those whom she loves are drawn in her train.

In asking to be drawn, we seek an intimate union with the object that has led our heart captive. If iron and fire were endowed with reason, and the iron could say, “ Draw me!” would this not prove its wish to be identified with the fire to the point of sharing its substance? Well, such is precisely my prayer. I ask Jesus to draw me into the fire of His Love, and to unite me so closely to Himself that He may live and act in me. I feel that the more the fire of love consumes my heart, the more frequently shall I cry, “Draw me!” and the more also will those souls who come in contact with mine run swiftly in the sweet odour of the Beloved.

DISTRACTIONS

As soon as I am aware of them, I pray for those people the thought of whom is diverting my attention, and in this way they reap benefits from my distractions. . . . I accept all for the love of God, even the wildest fancies that cross my mind.

MORTIFICATION

Far from resembling those heroic souls who from their childhood use fast and scourge and chain to discipline the flesh, I made my modifications consist simply in checking my self- will, keeping back an impatient answer, rendering a small service in a quiet way, and a hundred other similar things.

I have a longing for those heart-wounds, those pin-pricks which inflict so much pain. I know of no ecstasy to which I do not prefer sacrifice. There I find happiness, and there alone. The slender reed has no fear of being broken, for it is planted beside the waters of Love. When, therefore, it bends before the gale, it gathers strength in the refreshing stream, and longs for yet another storm to pass and sway its head. My very weakness makes me strong. No harm can come to me, since in whatever happens I see only the tender hand of Jesus. . . . Besides, no suffering is too big a price to pay for the glorious palm.

I endeavoured above all to practise little hidden acts of virtue, such as folding the mantles which the Sisters had forgotten and being on the altar to render them help. I had also a great attraction towards penance, although I was not allowed to satisfy the desire. Indeed the only mortification I was permitted was the overcoming of my self-love, which did me far more good than any bodily penance could have done.

God does not despise these hidden struggles with ourselves, so much richer in merit because they are unseen: “The patient man is better than the valiant, and he that ruleth his spirit than he that taketh cities.” Prov. 16: 32.

Through our little acts of charity, practised in the dark, as it were, we obtain the conversion of the heathen, help the missionaries, and gain for them plentiful alms, thus building both spiritual and material dwellings for our Eucharistic God.

HIDDEN SACRIFICES

(Two examples of the way in which St Teresa practised mortification).

For a long time my place at meditation was near a Sister who fidgeted incessantly, either with her rosary or with something else. Possibly I alone heard her because of my very sensitive ear, but I cannot tell you to what an extent I was tried by the irritating noise. There was a strong temptation to turn round and with one glance to silence the offender; yet in my heart I knew I ought to bear with her patiently, for the love of God first of all, and also to avoid causing her pain. I therefore remained quiet, but the effort cost me so much that sometimes I was bathed in perspiration, and my meditation consisted merely in the prayer of suffering. Finally, I sought a way of gaining peace, in my inmost heart at least, and so I tried to find pleasure in the disagreeable noise. Instead of vainly attempting not to hear it, I set myself to listen attentively as though it were delightful music, and my meditation-which was not the prayer of “quiet”-was passed in offering this music to Our Lord.

On another occasion when I was engaged in the laundry, the Sister opposite to me, who was washing handkerchiefs, kept splashing me continually with dirty water. My first impulse was to draw back and wipe my face in order to show her that I wanted her to be more careful. The next moment, however, I saw the folly of refusing treasures thus generously offered, and I carefully refrained from betraying any annoyance. On the contrary I made such efforts to welcome the shower of dirty water that at the end of half an hour I had taken quite a fancy to the novel kind of aspersion, and resolved to return as often as possible to the place where such precious treasures were freely bestowed.

THE OFFERING OF JOYS

It seems to me that if our sacrifices take Jesus captive, our joys make Him prisoner too. All that is needed to attain this is that, instead of giving ourselves over to selfish happiness, we offer to our Spouse the little joys He scatters in our path to charm our hearts and draw them towards Him.

VAIN FEARS ABOUT HOLY COMMUNION

. . You have grieved me greatly by abstaining from Holy Communion, because you have grieved Our Lord. The devil must be very cunning to deceive a soul in this way. . . . The treacherous creature knows quite well that when a soul is striving to belong wholly to God he cannot cause her to sin, so he merely tries to persuade her that she falls. This is a considerable gain, but not enough to satisfy his hatred, so he aims at something more, and tries to shut out Jesus from a tabernacle which Jesus covets. Unable to enter the sanctuary himself, he wishes that at least it remain empty and without its God. Alas! what will become of that poor little heart? When the devil has succeeded in keeping a soul from Holy Communion he has gained all his ends . . . while Jesus weeps! . . .

Remember that our sweet Jesus is there in the Tabernacle expressly for you and you alone. Remember that He burns with the desire to enter your heart. Do not listen to the enemy. Laugh him to scorn, and go without fear to receive Jesus, the God of peace and of love. . . .

I assure you I have found that this is the only means of ridding oneself of the devil. When he sees he is losing his time, he leaves us in peace.

In truth, it is impossible that a heart which can find rest only in contemplation of the Tabernacle-and yours is such, you tell me- could so far offend Our Lord as not to be able to receive Him. . . . What does offend Jesus, what wounds Him to the Heart, is want of confidence.

Pray that the best portion of your life may not be overshadowed by idle fears. We have only life’s brief moments to spend for the glory of God, and well does Satan know it. That is why he employs every ruse to make us consume them in useless labour. Dear sister, go often to Holy Communion, go very often-that is your one remedy.

THE NIGHT OF THE SOUL

“It is so sweet to serve God in the dark night and in the midst of trial. After all we have but this life in which to live by faith.” St Teresa of Lisieux

WALKING IN DARKNESS

I give thanks to Jesus for making me walk in darkness, and in the darkness I enjoy profound peace. Indeed, I consent to remain through all my religious life in the gloomy passage into which He has led me. I desire only that my darkness may obtain light for sinners. I am content, nay, full of joy, to be without all consolation. I should be ashamed if my love were like that of earthly brides who are ever looking for gifts from their bridegrooms, or seeking to catch the smile which fills them with delight.

Thërêse, the little Spouse of Jesus, loves Him for Himself. . . .

DESOLATION

When my heart, weary of the enveloping darkness, tries to find some rest and strength in the thought of an everlasting life to come, my anguish only increases. It seems to me that the darkness itself, borrowing the voice of the unbeliever, cries mockingly: “You dream of a land of light and fragrance, you believe that the Creator of these wonders will be for ever yours, you think to escape one day from the mists in which you now languish. Hope on! . . . Hope on! . . . Look forward to death! It will give you, not what you hope for, but a night darker still, the night of utter nothingness!

PERSEVERANCE IN FAITH

I have made more acts of faith during the past year than in all the rest of my life. Whenever my enemy provokes me to combat, I try to behave like a gallant soldier. Aware that a duel is an act of cowardice, I turn my back on the foe. without once looking him in the face; then hastening to my Saviour I tell Him that I am ready to shed my blood as a witness to my belief in Heaven. I tell Him that if He will deign to open it for eternity to poor unbelievers, I am content to sacrifice during my life all joyous thoughts of the Home that awaits me.

THE JOY OF SUFFERING

And so in spite of this trial which robs me all sense of enjoyment, I can still say: “ Thou hast given me O Lord, a delight in Thy doings.” Ps. 91: 5. For is there a greater joy than to suffer for Thy love, O my God? The more intense and more hidden the suffering the more dost Thou value it. And even if by an impossibility Thou should st not be aware of my affliction, I should be still happy to bear it, in the hope that by my tears I might prevent or atone for one sin against faith.

You may think that I am exaggerating the night of my soul. If one judged by the poems I have composed this year it might seem that I have been inundated with consolation, that I am a child for whom the veil of Faith is almost rent asunder. . . . But it is not a veil . . . it is a wall which reaches to the very heavens, shutting out the starry sky.

. . . And yet I have never experienced more fully the sweetness and mercy of Our Lord. He did not send this heavy cross when it would, I believe, have discouraged me, but chose a time when I was able to bear it. Now it does no more than deprive me of all natural satisfaction in my longing for Heaven.

It seems to me that nothing stands in the way of my going thither. I have no longer any great desires, beyond that of loving till I die of love.

CHARITY

Be zealous for the better gifts. And I show unto you a yet more excellent way.1 Cor. 12: 31.

THE VOCATION OF LOVE

Charity gave me the key to my vocation. I understood that since the Church is a body composed of different members, she could not lack the most necessary and most nobly endowed of all the bodily organs. I understood, therefore, that the Church has a heart-and a heart on fire with love. I saw, too, that love alone imparts life to all the members, so that should love ever fail, apostles would no longer preach the Gospel and martyrs would refuse to shed their blood. Finally, I realized that love includes every vocation, that love is all things, that love is eternal, reaching down through the ages and stretching to the uttermost limits of earth.

Beside myself with joy, I cried out: “Jesus, my Love, my vocation is found at last-my vocation is love!” I have found my place in the bosom of the Church, and this place, O My God, Thou hast Thyself given to me: in the heart of the Church; my Mother, I will be Love! . . . Thus shall I be all things and my dream will be fulfilled.

LOVING OUR NEIGHBOUR

“Greater love than this no man hath, that a man lay down his life for his friends.” John 15: 23. As I meditated on these divine words, I understood how imperfect was the love I bore my Sisters in religion, and that I did not love them as Our Lord does. Now I know that true charity consists in bearing all my neighbour’s defects, in not being surprised at mistakes, but in being edified at the smallest virtues.

. . . Should the devil bring before me the defects of a Sister, I hasten to look for her virtues and good motives. I call to mind that though I may have seen her fall once, she may have gained many victories over herself which in her humility she conceals, and also that what appears to be a fault may very well, owing to the good intention that prompted it, be an act of virtue.

. . . From all this I conclude that I ought to seek the companionship of those Sisters for whom I feel a natural aversion, and try to be their good Samaritan. It frequently needs only a word or a smile to impart fresh life to a despondent soul. Yet it is not merely in the hope of bringing consolation that I wish to be kind; if it were, I should soon be discouraged, for often well-intentioned words are totally misunderstood. Consequently, in order that I may lose neither time nor labour, I try to act solely to please Our Lord.

GIVE GENEROUSLY -SEEKING NO RETURN

“If any man take away thy coat, let go thy cloak also unto him.’” Matt. 5: 40.

It seems to me that to give up one’s cloak is to renounce every right, and look upon oneself as the servant, the slave of all. Divested of a cloak, however, it is easier to walk or run, so the Master adds: “ And whosoever will force thee one mile, go with him other two.” Matt. 5: 41. Hence it is not enough for me to give to the one who asks, I ought to anticipate the wish; I should show myself honoured by the request for service, and if anything set apart for my use be taken away I should appear glad to be rid of it.

“From him that would borrow of thee turn not away.” Matt. 5: 42 Neither should I be kind for the sake of being considered so, nor in the hope that the Sister will return the service, for once again it is written: “If you lend to them of whom you hope to receive, what thanks are to you? For sinners also lend to sinners for to receive as much. But you, do good and lend, hoping for nothing thereby, and your reward shall be great.” Luke 6: 34, 35.

Along this path it is but the first step that costs -even on earth the reward will be great.

O my Jesus! Thou dost never ask what is impossible; Thou knowest better than I how frail and imperfect I am; Thou knowest that I shall never love my Sisters as Thou hast loved them, unless Thou lovest them Thyself within me, my dearest Master. It is because Thou dost desire to grant me this grace, that Thou hast given a new Commandment, and dearly do I cherish it, since it proves to me that it is Thy Will to love in me all those Thou dost bid me love.

“GIVE US SOULS”

I would spread the Gospel in all parts of the earth, even to the farthest isles. I would be a missionary, but not for a few years only. Were it possible, I should wish to have been one from the world’s creation and to remain one till the end of time.

Give to us souls, dear Lord. . . . We thirst for souls -above all, for the souls of apostles and martyrs . . . that through them we may inflame all poor sinners with love of Thee.

The end cannot be reached without adopting the means, and since Our Lord had made me understand that it was through the cross He would give me souls, the more crosses I encountered the stronger became my attraction to suffering.

I am convinced that no remedies have the power to cure me, but I have made a covenant with God that they may be for the benefit of poor missionaries who have neither time nor means to take care of themselves.

(During an illness the Saint had been advised to take a short walk in the garden each day for a quarter of an hour. Seeing how this exhausted her, one of the Sisters urged her not to take it as it only tired her. “That is true,” she answered, “but do you know what gives me strength? I offer each step for some missionary, thinking that, somewhere far away, one of them is worn out by his apostolic labours, and to lessen his fatigue I offer mine to God.”)

“LOVE IS REPAID BY LOVE ALONE”

Motto of St Teresa of Lisieux, from St John of the Cross.

While thinking one day of those who offer themselves as victims to the Justice of God, and who turn aside the punishment due to sinners, taking it upon themselves, I felt such an offering to be both noble and generous. I was very far, nevertheless, from feeling myself drawn to make it, and from the depths of my heart I cried: “ O my Divine Master, shall Thy Justice alone find atoning victims? Has not Thy Merciful Love need of them also? On every side it is ignored and rejected . . . those hearts on which Thou wouldst lavish it turn to creatures and seek their happiness in the miserable satisfaction of a moment, rather than cast themselves into Thy arms-into the ecstatic fires of Thy infinite Love.

O my God, must that Love which is disdained lie hidden in Thy Heart? It seems to me that if Thou shouldst find souls offering themselves as a holocaust to Thy Love, Thou wouldst consume them rapidly and wouldst be pleased to set free those flames of infinite tenderness now imprisoned in Thy Heart. If Thy Justice which avenges itself upon earth must needs be satisfied, how much more must Thy Merciful Love desire to inflame souls, since “Thy Mercy reacheth even to the Heavens”! Cf. Ps. 35: 6

O Jesus, permit that I may be that happy victim -consume Thy holocaust with the fire of Divine Love! I am but a weak and helpless child, but my very weakness makes me dare to offer myself, O Jesus, as victim. . . . . . Forgive me, O Jesus, if I tell Thee that Thy Love reacheth even unto madness, and at the sight of such folly what wilt Thou but that my own heart should leap up to Thee? How could my trust know any bounds?

I know well that for Thy sake the Saints have made themselves foolish -being “eagles” they have done great things. Too little for such mighty deeds, my folly lies in the hope that Thy Love accepts me as a victim, and in my confidence that The Angels and Saints will help me to fly unto Thee with Thy own wings, O my Divine Eagle! As long as Thou willest I shall remain with my gaze fixed upon Thee, for I long to be fascinated by Thy divine eyes, I long to become Love’s prey. I am filled with the hope that one day Thou wilt swoop down upon me, and bearing me away to the source of all Love, wilt plunge me at last into its glowing abyss, that I may become for ever its happy victim.

THE CALL TO LITTLE SOULS

Why fear to offer yourself as a victim to God’s Merciful Love? If it were to His Divine Justice you might have reason to fear, but the Merciful Love will have pity on your weakness and will treat you with tenderest mercy.

You who love Jesus and long to be His little victim, do you not understand that the more weak and wretched we are, the better material do we make for His consuming and transfiguring fire? . . . The simple desire to be a victim suffices, but we must also consent to remain always poor and helpless, and here lies the difficulty: “Where shall we find one that is truly poor in spirit? We must seek him afar off,” says the author of the Imitation of Christ. He does not say that we must search among great souls, but “afar off”-that is to say, in abasement and in nothingness. Let us remain far from all that dazzles, loving our littleness, and content to have no joy. Then we shall be truly poor in spirit, and Jesus will come to seek us, however far off we may be, and transform us into flames of love . . .

O Jesus! would that I could tell all little souls of Thy ineffable condescension! If by any possibility Thou couldst find one weaker than mine, one which should abandon itself with perfect trust to Thy Infinite Mercy, I feel that Thou wouldst take delight in loading that soul with still greater favours. But whence these desires, O my Spouse, to make known the secrets of Thy Love? Is it not Thou alone who halt taught them to me and canst Thou not likewise reveal them to others? I know that Thou canst and I beseech Thee to do so. . . .

I BESEECH THEE TO CAST THY GLANCE UPON A VAST NUMBER OF LITTLE SOULS: I ENTREAT THEE TO CHOOSE IN THIS WORLD A LEGION OF LITTLE VICTIMS WORTHY OF THY LOVE. SOME PRAYERS OF SAINT TERESA

ACT OF OBLATION

(This Prayer was found after the death of Saint Teresa in the copy of the Gospels which she carried night and day close to her heart).

“OFFERING OF MYSELF AS A VICTIM TO GOD’S MERCIFUL LOVE”

O my God, O Most Blessed Trinity, I desire to love Thee and to make Thee loved -to labour for the glory of Thy Church by saving souls here upon earth and by delivering those suffering in Purgatory. I desire to fulfil perfectly Thy will, and to reach the degree of glory Thou hast prepared for me in Thy kingdom. In a word, I wish to be holy, but, knowing how helpless I am, I beseech Thee, my God, to be Thyself my holiness.

Since Thou hast loved me so much as to give me Thy Only-Begotten Son to be my Saviour and my Spouse, the infinite treasures of His merits are mine. I offer them gladly to Thee, and I beg to Thee to look on me through the eyes of Jesus, and in His Heart aflame with love.

Moreover, I offer Thee all the merits of the Saints in Heaven and on earth, together with their acts of love, and those of the holy Angels. Lastly, I offer Thee, O Blessed Trinity, the love and the merits of the Blessed Virgin, my dearest Mother-to her I commit this oblation, praying her to present it to Thee.

During the days of His life on earth her divine Son, my sweet Spouse, spoke these words: “ If you ask the Father anything in My Name, He will give it you.” John 16: 23

Therefore I am certain Thou wilt grant my prayer. O my God, I know that the more Thou wishest to bestow, the more Thou dost make us desire. In my heart I feel boundless desires, and I confidently beseech Thee to take possession of my soul. I cannot receive Thee in Holy Communion as often as I should wish; but art Thou not allpowerful? Abide in me as Thou dost in the tabernacle- never abandon Thy little victim. 1 long to console Thee for ungrateful sinners, and I implore Thee to take from me all liberty to cause Thee displeasure. If through weakness I should chance to fall, may a glance from Thine eyes straightway cleanse my soul, and consume all my imperfections-as fire transforms all things into itself.

I thank Thee, O my God, for all the graces Thou hast granted me, especially for having purified me in the crucible of suffering. At the day of judgement I shall gaze with joy upon Thee, carrying Thy sceptre of the cross. And since Thou hast deigned to give me this previous cross as my portion, I hope to be like unto Thee in Paradise, and to behold the sacred wounds of Thy Passion shine on my glorified body.

After earth’s exile I hope to possess Thee eternally, but I do not seek to lay up treasures in Heaven. I wish to labour for Thy love alone-with the sole aim of pleasing Thee, of consoling Thy Sacred Heart, and of saving souls who will love Thee through eternity.

When the evening of life comes, I shall stand before Thee with empty hands, because I do not ask Thee, my God, to take account of my works. All our good deeds are blemished in Thine eyes. I wish therefore to be robed with Thine own justice, and to receive from Thy love the everlasting gift of Thyself. I desire no other throne but Thee, O my Beloved!

In Thy sight time is naught -”one day is a thousand years.” Ps. 39: 4.

Thou canst in a single instant prepare me to appear before Thee.

In order that my life may be one act of perfect love, I offer myself as a holocaust to Thy Merciful Love, imploring

Thee to consume me unceasingly and to allow the floods of infinite tenderness gathered up in Thee to overflow into my soul, that so I may become a martyr of Thy love, O my God! May this martyrdom one day release me from my earthly prison, after having prepared me to appear before Thee, and may my soul take its flight-without delay-into the eternal embrace of Thy merciful Love!

O my Beloved, I desire at every beat of my heart to renew this oblation an infinite number of times, “till the shadows retire.” Cant. 4: 6. and everlastingly I can tell Thee my love face to face.

PRAYER TO THE HOLY CHILD

O little Jesus, my only treasure, I abandon myself to every one of Thine adorable whims. I seek no other joy than that of making Thee smile. Grant me the graces and the virtues of Thy holy childhood, so that on the day of my birth into Heaven the angels and saints may recognise in Thy little spouse: Therese of the Child Jesus.

PRAYER TO THE HOLY FACE

O adorable Face of Jesus, sole beauty which ravisheth my heart, vouchsafe to impress on my soul Thy divine likeness, so that it may not be possible for Thee to look at Thy spouse without beholding Thyself. O my Beloved, for love of Thee I am content not to see here on earth the sweetness of Thy glance, nor to feel the ineffable kiss of Thy sacred lips, but I beg of Thee to inflame me with Thy love, so that it may consume me quickly, and that soon Therese of the Holy Face may behold Thy glorious countenance in Heaven.

PRAYER TO OBTAIN HUMILITY

Extract from prayer for Humility written for a Novice

I implore Thee, dear Jesus, to send me a humiliation whensoever I try to set myself above others. Thou knowest my weakness. Each morning I resolve to be humble, and in the evening I recognise that I have often been guilty of pride. The sight of these faults tempts, me to discouragement; yet I know that discouragement is itself but a form of pride. I wish therefore, O my God, to build all my trust upon Thee. As Thou canst do all things, deign to implant in my soul this virtue which I desire, and to obtain it from Thy infinite mercy I will often say to Thee: “Jesus, meek and humble of heart, make my heart like unto Thine.”

A MORNING OFFERING

(The original manuscript is preserved at Carfin).

O my God! I offer Thee all my actions of this day for the intentions and for the glory of the Sacred Heart of Jesus. I desire to sanctify every beat of my heart, my every thought, my simplest works, by uniting them to its infinite merits; and I wish to make reparation for my sins by casting them into the furnace of its merciful love.

O my God! I ask of Thee for myself and for those whom I hold dear the grace to fulfil perfectly Thy holy will, to accept for love of Thee the joys and sorrows of this passing life, so that we may one day be united together in Heaven for all eternity. Amen.

PRAYER TO THE LITTLE FLOWER (FROM THE NOVENA TO SAINT TERESA)

O Saint Therese of the Child Jesus, who during thy short life on earth became a mirror of angelic purity, of love strong as death, and of whole-hearted abandonment to God, now that thou rejoicest in the reward of thy virtues cast a glance of pity on me as I leave all things in thy hands. Make my troubles thine own- speak a word for me to Our Lady Immaculate, whose flower of special love thou wert-to that Queen of Heaven “ who smiled on thee at the dawn of life.” Beg her as Queen of the Heart of Jesus to obtain for me by her powerful intercession the grace I yearn for so ardently at this moment, and that she join with it a blessing that may strengthen me during life, defend me at the hour of death, and lead me straight on to a happy eternity. Amen.

PRAYER

O God, who didst inflame with Thy spirit of love the soul of St. Teresa of the Child Jesus, grant that we also may love Thee, and may make Thee much loved. Amen.

********

Indulgences: What Are They?

LIGHT ON A MUCH MISUNDERSTOOD QUESTION

REV. JOHN A. O’BRIEN, PH.D

INDEX

Some time ago Professor L. M. Larson, the distinguished head of the department of history at the University of Illinois, called upon the writer and thus stated the object of his visit. “Father,” he said, “I am writing a history of England. I have encountered so many different and conflicting statements of historians as to the nature of an indulgence, that I have come to you, as a representative of the Catholic Church, to find out what an indulgence really is. I want to know the authentic teaching of the Catholic Church on this subject, so that I can present the doctrine truthfully and accurately to my readers, instead of merely repeating the confusing statements of second-hand authorities who have never understood what the Church really means by an indulgence.”

It is because many other writers have been less careful than Professor Larson, and have taken their idea of indulgences from the caricatures drawn by misinformed or prejudiced sources, that there prevail among our nonCatholic fellow-citizens to this very day many grotesque misconceptions as to the meaning of an indulgence. Many consider it a pardon of past sin, others regard it as a licence to commit future sin. Some think of it as an exemption from a law or duty which binds other Christians. In some histories it is depicted as a sort of magical lever that lifts a soul from Purgatory. (All of these ideas, as we shall see, are inaccurate.)

INDULGENCES FOR SALE?

Colouring all these notions is the idea that, whatever the kind of indulgence, it may be purchased at a stipulated price. They are all for sale, and the lust for money is at the root of the whole business. The term “indulgences” has thus come to stand in the minds of our separated brethren as the symbol of mercenary fraud and corruption in the Church of Rome. It is regarded as the match that kindled the flames of Luther’s revolt against the most repugnant elements of the superstition and humbuggery of the Roman system.

May I ask our dear non-Catholic reader to follow the example of Professor Larson, whose insistence upon going to the original sources to find the real facts in the case, has enabled him to achieve world eminence in his field. In so doing they will get an insight into the true meaning of an indulgence. They will then see that what they fight against is not the Catholic doctrine of indulgences. but the grotesque caricatures drawn either by the misinformed or by the Church’s antagonists.

I do not hesitate to say that if an indulgence were really the mercenary fraud commonly imagined by nonCatholics, I, too, would rebel against it with vehemence not less than theirs. It is only because I know the authentic teaching of the Church on this subject that I see in indulgences an incentive not to evil, but to deeds of virtue and holiness. Here again I would ask of our non-Catholic reader but one favour-an open mind.

In return, I give the assurance that instead of playing the role of an attorney, glossing over all the hostile evidence and playing up only that which is favourable, I shall essay the role of the historian, recording with impartial hand the abuses as well as the wholesome fruits of the practice of indulgences.

The Real Meaning

What is the real meaning of an indulgence? It is simply the remission of the temporal punishment due to sin, after the sin itself has been forgiven. The one phrase in the above definition that may not be entirely clear to our nonCatholic reader is “temporal punishment.” To understand that, one must first understand that, according to the Catholic Church, every sin, especially grievous sin, has attached to it a two-fold penalty-an eternal punishment to be undergone in the next world, and a temporal punishment, which is suffered either in this world, or in Purgatory, or partly in both.

The guilt, with its eternal punishment, is always forgiven in a good confession. The temporal punishment may or may not be remitted in confession, depending upon the quality of the contrition. If it is not remitted, it may be remitted: (1) through the propitiatory efficacy of deeds of penance and virtue; and (2) through the gaining of indulgences attached by the Church to certain works of charity and piety.

Basic, in this whole conception, is the idea that even after the eternal punishment attached to mortal sin, or venial sin, is remitted, there may still remain some temporal punishment. While this idea does not seem to be familiar at the present time to those outside the Catholic Church, it is nevertheless rooted in the Scriptures. Thus Moses, even though he was forgiven his transgressions by God, was nevertheless punished by not being permitted to enter the Promised Land, being allowed to view it only from the distance of Mt. Nebo.

TEMPORAL PUNISHMENT

David was forgiven for his double crime of murder and adultery, but was compelled to suffer a temporal punishment in the violent death of his son, Absalom (and Ammon) and the death by illness of Bathsheba’s child. “The Lord also has taken away your sin,” said the prophet Nathan, “nevertheless, because you have given occasion to the enemies of the Lord to blaspheme, for this thing the child that is born to you shall surely die.” (2 Sam 12:13–14) Here is a clear instance of a temporal punishment remaining after the eternal guilt has been remitted. To satisfy the requirement of God’s justice for such temporal punishment, and thereby to remit it, is the function of indulgences.

Let me endeavour to make still clearer to my dear non-Catholic readers the meaning of temporal punishment, so essential to the understanding of indulgences, by the following illustration. Suppose Tom Smith is guilty of stealing a hundred pounds from the home of his neighbour, John Brown. The culprit is arrested and the judge pronounces him guilty and sentences him to prison for a year by way of punishment.

While in prison Mr. Smith comes to realize the grievous injustice he inflicted upon his neighbour by his theft, and is thoroughly repentant. He writes to Mr. Brown, humbly asks his forgiveness and assures him that as soon as he earns a hundred pounds after he is outof prison, he will repay him. Touched by the evident sincerity of the prisoner’s contrition and purpose of amendment, Mr. Brown asks the governor to pardon him. Upon investigation, the governor finds that the prisoner has served four months of his sentence and has a record of good behaviour during this period. Because of this fact and because of the circumstances mentioned by Mr. Brown, the governor remits the remaining eight months of imprisonment and releases the prisoner on parole.

The sentence to servea year’s imprisonment may be said to represent the temporal punishment due to sin even after the sinner has repented and the formal guilt of the sin has been remitted. The remission of the remaining eight months of the sentence may be said to represent an indulgence. The illustration also serves to show the wholesome effect that the temporal punishment is likely to have upon the penitent sinner.

POWER TO GRANT INDULGENCES

Granting, then, the fact of a temporal punishment, what is the evidence that the Church possesses the power to remit it? This is to be found in the authority vested by Christ in His Church when He said to Peter: “I will give to you the keys of the kingdom of heaven. And whatsoever you shall bind upon earth, it shall be bound also in heaven: and whatsoever you shall loose on earth, it shall be loosed also in heaven” (Matt. 16: 19). From these words of Christ it is clear that no limit was placed upon the power of the Church to loose from any and all bonds of sin-from the temporal as well as from the eternal punishment. Indulgences constitute, therefore, a supplement to the Sacrament of Penance, removing every obstacle that separates the creature from the friendship of his God.

INDULGENCES ARE OF TWO KINDS: PARTIAL OR PLENARY. A PARTIAL INDULGENCE REMITS A PORTION OF THE TEMPORAL PUNISHMENT, WHILE A PLENARY ONE REMITS ALL OF IT

TRANSFER OF INDULGENCES

In addition to being applicable to the living, some indulgences are likewise applicable to the souls in Purgatory. To understand the possibility of such a transfer of indulgences, it is necessary first to understand these three teachings of Christ and of His Church:

(1) THE COMMUNION OF SAINTS

This means that the members of Christ’s Church, whether on earth, in hea ven, or in purgatory, are all members of Christ’s mystical body and are all capable of assisting one another by their prayers and good works. “We being many,” says St. Paul, “are one body in Christ, and every one members one of another” (Rom. 12: 5).

(2) THE PRINCIPLE OF VICARIOUS SATISFACTION

To every good action of the just man there is attached a twofold value: merit and satisfaction or atonement. Merit is personal and cannot be transferred. Satisfaction, however, can be applied to others. This truth St. Paul thus communicates to the Colossians: “Who now rejoice in my sufferings for you, and fill up those things that are wanting of the sufferings of Christ, in my flesh, for his body, which is the Church” (Colossians 1: 24). Moreover, all Christians admit that we have been redeemed through the propitiatory sufferings and death of Christ. This principle of vicarious atonement; lies, therefore, at the very heart of the Christian faith.

(3) THE SPIRITUAL TREASURY OF THE CHURCH

Since Christ suffered far more than was necessary to redeem us, and since there resulted from His death a fund of infinite satisfaction, it follows that there has been created a vast and inexhaustible treasury which the Church may draw upon in payment of temporal punishment. This spiritual treasury has been increased by the superabundant satisfaction of the Blessed Virgin and of the saints. “All the saints,” says St. Thomas, “intended that whatever they did or suffered for God’s sake should be profitable not only to themselves but to the whole Church” (Quodlib., Book II., question vii., article 16, by St. Thomas Aquinas).

The existence of an infinite treasury of merits in the Church was formally set forth by Pope Clement VI in 1343. “Upon the altar of the Cross,” says the Pope. “Christ shed of His blood not merely a drop, though this would have sufficed. by reason of the union with the Word, to redeem the whole human race, but a copious torrent-thereby laying up an infinite treasure for mankind. This treasure He neither wrapped up in a napkin nor hid in a field, but entrusted to Blessed Peter, the key-bearer, and his successors, that they might for just and reasonable causes distribute it to the faithful in full or in partial remission of the temporal punishment due to sin.” Hence-when Luther asserted that “the treasures of the Church from which the Pope grants indulgences are not the merits of Christ and the saints,” the statement was promptly condemned by Leo X.

For, without such a spiritual treasury for the Church to draw upon in payment of temporal punishment still due by her children, indulgences would be both ineffective and meaningless. It is part of the authority committed by Christ to Peter and his successors to specify to what extent, and under what conditions, the funds of this common treasury shall be made available to the individual members.

AN ANCIENT DOCTRINE

As the concept of a common spiritual treasury, consisting of the inexhaustible merits of Christ and the superabundant satisfaction of the saints, while essential to the understanding of indulgences, is unfamiliar to those outside the fold, it may be helpful to show how deeply imbedded in the Christian faith was this doctrine. centuries before the birth of Protestantism. Back in the thirteenth century, St. Thomas Aquinas bears witness to the universal belief of Christians in the existence of such a treasury and in its availability to remit temporal punishment.

“All this treasure,” says St. Thomas, “is at the dispensation of the chief rulers of the Church, in as much as Our Lord gave the Keys of the Church to Peter. When, then, the utility or necessity of the Church requires it, the chief ruler of the Church can draw from this infinite store of merits to communicate to any one who through charity is a member of the Church as much as he deems to be opportune, whether it be such as will suffice for the total remission of his punishment, or up to a certain portion of the whole; in such wise, namely, that the Passion of Christ (through Whom alone the merits of the others have efficacy) and the other saints may be imparted to him just as if he himself had suffered what was necessary for the remission of his sin-as happens when one person satisfies for another” (op. cit.).

These, then, are the three basic truths, the communion of saints, the principle of vicarious atonement, and the common treasury of the Church, upon which the doctrine of the applicability of indulgences to the souls of the faithful departed, as well as to others among the living, rests. The authority to grant indulgences, as has been indicated, flows from the power of the keys, the unlimited power of binding and of loosing, conferred by Christ upon St. Peter and his successors.

AN IMPORTANT DIFFERENCE

There is an important difference in the application of indulgences to the living and to the dead. The living are subjects of the Church’s immediate jurisdiction; the deceased are not. To the former she grants an indulgence as an exercise of her judiciary authority. To the latter she makes an indulgence available by way of suffrage. That is, she petitions God, under whose sole jurisdiction the deceased are, to accept the works of satisfaction, and in consideration thereof to mitigate the sufferings of the souls in purgatory.

Can we say, therefore, that an indulgence gained by the living for any individual in purgatory will be applied with infallible certainty to the particular soul? While we piously believe that the individual soul will be benefited to some degree, we cannot say with certainty that it will be applied in its entirety to that particular soul. That lies within the jurisdiction of Almighty God, and we rest content with the knowledge that the case is in the hands of a Father Who is both infinitely just and infinitely merciful.

It is well, too, to remember that there are some veils that cannot be penetrated this side of eternity. The effort to do so usually results in fine-spun speculations and subtleties, which do not carry conviction, and which are usually less satisfactory than the humble acknowledgement that we simply do not know. The answer to this question is one of the many, then, that we leave with content to the wisdom of our heavenly Father.

A GLOSSING OVER?

“Is not an indulgence,” queried a non-Catholic friend recently, “a mere glossing over of sin, a lazy man’s method of getting his punishment remitted instead of the normal time-honoured method of repentance and amendment? I do not see any need for indulgences,” he continued, “as long as Christ has pointed to repentance as the way back to His love and friendship. “Much is forgiven her because she has loved much. Go now and sin no more.” This was the burden of Christ’s message to mankind. It seems to me that indulgences are morally unwholesome because they lessen the need for such interior repentance and amendment.”

Such is the common view of our non-Catholic friends. It overlooks, however, an essential condition for the gaining of an indulgence. For the latter is not a glossing over of sin. It does not touch the guilt of sin in any way. In fact, an indulgence cannot be gained unless the guilt of mortal sin has been first removed by the Sacrament of Penance, of which true interior contrition and purpose of amendment are indispensable requisites. Therefore, an indulgence can be gained only by a person who is already in the friendship and love of God.

Instead of lessening the need for genuine repentance and amendment, indulgences emphasize their imperative necessity. For without such repentance there can be no indulgences, and no forgiveness of sin, either by the Church through the Sacrament of Penance or directly by God. No person or institution in the world insists more strongly upon the unescapable necessity of genuine and not feigned repentance for the obtaining of forgiveness of sin than the Catholic Church. The picture, then, of a man wallowing in the mire of sin and gaining an indulgence through the offering of an alms to spare himself the trouble of repentance and amendment does not reflect the teaching of the Catholic Church. It exists only in the imagination of our separated brethren, and is traceable to the widespread misrepresentation of the nature of an indulgence.

NO FORGIVENESS OF GUILT

Do not some writs of indulgence, however, especially in the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries, contain the expression “from guilt and punishment” (a culpa et a poena)? Does this not show that an indulgence was regarded as a pardon of sin ? It is true that this medieval formula was often used, though rarely by the Roman chancery. But it was never used in the sense ascribed to it by Protestant writers, as meaning the remission of the guilt of sin through an indulgence. Addressed to Catholics who understood the meaning of an indulgence, the formula always implied the previous remission of the guilt of sin through the Sacrament of Penance or Reconciliation.

In order that I may not appear to be asking our non-Catholic reader to accept this explanation on my authority, I shall cite the words of a contemporary of Luther. While I have before me the writings of over a dozen authors of the thirteenth, fourteenth, and fifteenth centuries explaining the writs of indulgences in the sense just mentioned, I shall quote but one, allowing him to speak for all. I choose John of Palts, for the threefold reason that he was authorized to preach the jubilee indulgence under Pope Alexander VII, because he was a fellow religious of Luther, and because his explanation is accepted as correct even by Brieger, one of the most hostile of all Protestant writers on the question of indulgences.

“Properly speaking,” writes Palts, “in virtue of an indulgence no one is ever absolved from punishment and guilt, but from punishment only. However, it is commonly said that during the jubilee one is absolved from both-a poena et culpa. And that saying is true, because a “jubilee is more than a mere indulgence; it includes authority to confess and absolve and together with this power to remit punishment by way of indulgence. In this way it includes the Sacrament: of Penance and together with it an indulgence properly so called. For the clearer understanding of the aforesaid, it must be noted that the term indulgence may be taken in one of two ways. In one way, in so far as it properly signifies the mere remission of punishment, and in this sense it does not imply the remission of guilt; and in another way, in as much as in a wider sense it stands for the jubilee, or for the letter including the jubilee, and then it extends itself to the remission of sin. And the reason is that usually when the Pope grants a jubilee, he does not concede a simple indulgence, but also the faculty of confessing and absolving from all sins. And in this way the guilt is taken away by the Sacrament of Penance, which there intervenes; while the punishment is cancelled by the indulgence, which is there granted” (Brieger, p. 88).

The alleged sale of indulgences, the numerous abuses which grew up around them, and their bearing upon the religious upheaval of the sixteenth century are questions which demand fuller treatment than is possible within the limits of this article. They, along with the historical origin of the practice of indulgences, are discussed in another pamphlet.

Suffice it to say here that the doctrine of indulgences, while perhaps not explicit in Holy Scripture, is at least implicit therein. It is likewise in accordance with reason. Far from being subversive of true repentance and purpose of amendment, it stimulates the arousal of these subjective dispositions by stressing their necessity for the gaining of an indulgence.

AN INCENTIVE TO VIRTUE

The official teaching of the Church on the subject is thus expressed by the Council of Trent: “Since,” says the Council, “the power of conferring indulgences was granted by Christ to the Church, and she has, even in the most ancient times, used this kind of power, delivered unto her of God; the Sacred Holy Synod teaches and enjoins that the use of Indulgences, for the Christian people most salutary and approved of by the authority of Sacred Councils, is to be retained in the Church; and it condemns, with anathema, those who either assert they are useless, or who deny that there is in the Church the power of granting them” (Sess. XXV).

It is to be noted how moderate and restrained is the official statement of the Church’s teaching. It simply affirms two truths, namely, that the Church has the power to grant indulgences, and that their use is salutary. Thus it is evident that the Church does not crowd them upon any of her children. If one will appraise the doctrine of indulgences, not as caricatured by her enemies but as actually taught by the Church, he will come, I think, to the two following conclusions:

(1) Indulgences constitute a powerful incentive to deeds of virtue, piety, and charity, quickening man in his love of God and in his service to his fellow man.

(2) Indulgences are a beautiful dispensation of Divine Providence emphasizing the social solidarity of our race and binding us all together as members of the mystical body of Christ by the golden ties of love and prayer.

We do not struggle as solitary, lonely wayfarers, climbing slowly up life’s rough mountain-side, with no one to cheer or help us when we falter on the way. We travel as pilgrims in a goodly company, and as soldier in a mighty army, with the hands of angels stretched down to help us when we stumble, with the prayers of the faithful pleading for us before the Throne of the Most High, and with the sacrifices and good deeds of our brothers-in-arms to hearten us when we weary on the way. The gaining of indulgences for one another is, therefore, but an integral part of that consoling doctrine of the communion of saints, the sweet reasonableness of which is so beautifully portrayed in the words of Tennyson:

“For what are men better than sheep or goats That nourish a blind life within the brain,

If knowing God they lift not hands of prayer Both for themselves and those who call them friends? For so the whole round earth is every way

Bound by gold chains about the feet of God.”

Nihil Obstat:

BERNARD O”CONNOR. Diocesan Censor.

Imprimatur:

@ DANIEL MANNIX,

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis. June 6th, 1960

Is Capital Punishment Evil?

BY EMMANUEL VALENZA

INDEX

The error of conceiving capital punishment as a moral evil is pervasive in the Catholic Church today. Arguments against the death penalty, as voiced by Catholics, have a common denominator, namely, the punishment is unchristian. The charge is most unusual because the Church perennially has defended the right of the State to put a criminal to death. In effect the current anti-capital punishment sentiment accuses the Church of uncharitable behaviour for two millennia because she has sanctioned the State’s right to “carry the sword,” as St. Paul puts it (Romans 13:4).

I say “in effect” because in most cases the Church’s traditional support of the death penalty is simply ignored. The abolitionists claim, for sundry reasons, that the punishment is uncharitable ―period.

In the following article, I will attempt to bring to evidence, by appealing to Scripture, tradition and reason, and stressing the insights of St. Thomas Aquinas and Immanuel Kant [while the Catholic Church has condemned Kant’s liberal system of philosophy, nevertheless, his quotes are important as they show remarkable support for capital punishment from one of the most influential apologists of liberalism], that capital punishment is a just and therefore charitable punishment because:

1. it respects man as an image of God;

2. it is a punishment which is proportionate to certain heinous crimes;

3. it has a purgatorial effect on the soul;

4. it protects the common good; and

5. it treats the criminal as a person, as an image of God.

The defense of the death penalty will be clustered around three arguments against capital punishment in vogue among Catholics. I will state the objections to the death penalty in the form of propositions. They should be recognizable to anyone even remotely acquainted with the subject of capital punishment.

Argument: Modern man’s rejection of capital punishment as morally wrong is indicative of his growing awareness of the dignity and value of human life. Those who support the death penalty, on the other hand, treat human life irreverently. If we are to revere life we must revere all life, including the life of the criminal.

Ironically, the death penalty is first sanctioned in Genesis 9:6, precisely because the act of murder violates man’s integrity as made in the image of God. Genesis 9:6 reads: “Whoever sheds the blood of man, by man shall his blood be shed; for in the image of God man was made.” The sacred writer warrants the death penalty ―not its abolishment ―on the basis that it is a sign of reverence for the life of the murdered man. Recognition of the dignity, value and preciousness of man demands that the murderer be put to death. Hand in hand with the recognition of the dignity and value of man is the conviction that only the punishment of death is commensurate with the crime. Conversely, the sacred writer implies that the failure to ratify capital punishment when a man is murdered bespeaks a lack of reverence for man as an image of God. The preciousness of the person, his dignity, his ontological value qua person ―which the murderer blatantly disregards ―is not esteemed unless the villain is put to death. That man is made in the image of God is a gift of priceless value. Genesis 9:6 warns us, albeit indirectly, that the worth of the gift is grossly underestimated when the murderer is allowed to live.

Apropos of society’s willingness to discard the death penalty, it is incontrovertible that such a desire cannot be adduced as indicative of an increased appreciation of the value of human life. On the contrary, the demand for the abolition of capital punishment is a sign of blindness, not appreciation; for the diabolical consequences of our irreverent attitude toward human life are myriad. Since the Roe vs. Wade decision, some twenty million babies have been murdered. Pornography in all its satanic forms permeates society. Suicide is a national plague. The many abuses in the realm of sex are omnipresent. Euthanasia is not without its proponents and practitioners. In light of this moral wasteland, the assertion that abolitionists witness to modern man’s recognition of the value of life is preposterous.

WHAT CONSTITUTES MAN AS AN IMAGE OF GOD?

Since Genesis 9:6 sanctions the death penalty on the grounds that man reflects God in a particular way, it is important to understand the nature of this reflection.

According to the traditional teaching of theologians, God is reflected in His creatures in the following ways: as a trace (vestigium), which is characteristic of all material entities; as an image (imago), which is characteristic of spiritual beings in their natural state; and as a likeness (similitudo), which is characteristic of spiritual beings in a supernatural state. For example, man’s body is a trace; his soul, lacking grace is a divine image; and his soul perfected by grace, is a divine likeness.

Man is an image of God because of the rational soul’s powers of intellect, will, and love. He is able to grasp truth. choose the good, and love all that is true, good, and beautiful. These three powers ―intellectual, volitional, and affective constitute man as an image of God. Divine likeness is achieved only in the state of grace, when “a partaker of the divine nature” (2 Peter 1:4).

Indeed, the soul is man’s crowning glory. So precious is our soul that it is worth the blood of the Son of God. We have been redeemed “ . . . not with perishable things, with silver or gold, but with the precious blood of Christ, as a lamb without blemish and without spot” (I Peter 1: 18–19).

HERETICS AND THE SOUL

Man is composed of body and soul. His material body is a trace of God; his soul, a spiritual substance is an image of God. If the murderer is rightly condemned for destroying the life of the body, all the more should the “murderer” of the soul be put to death. St. Thomas Aquinas argues in a similar vein when he answer the question: “Are heretics to be tolerated?” The Angelic Doctor writes:

On their side [the heretics’] is the sin whereby they have deserved, not only to be separated from the Church by excommunication but also to be banished from the world by death. For it is a much heavier offense to corrupt the faith, whereby the life of the soul is sustained, than to tamper with the coinage, which is an aid to temporal life. Hence if coiners, or other malefactors, are at once handed over by secular princes to die a just death, much more may heretics, immediately after they are convicted of heresy, be not only excommunicated, but also justly done to die. (Summa Theologica [here after ST], IIa IIae, q. 11, art. 3)

The person is not taken seriously as a spiritual creature, as a divine image, if heretics, who “corrupt the faith, whereby the life of the soul is sustained,” are not punished ―dare I say it? ―with excommunication. What greater crime is there than the spiritual harm caused by heretics? Yet these contumacious individuals are not even admonished. In fact, they are the putative heroes of the day. Instead of being extirpated they are held in high esteem for their perfidiousness.

The Church hierarchy stresses the dignity of the person in many of its official pronouncements. Fine. They point out that the main duty of public authorities is to protect the community and the common good. Great. But Church officials do not provide a good example when they permit nefarious Church members to cause unbridled scandal in their own domain. To avoid the charge of hypocrisy, the guardians of the Catholic Faith should be solicitous for the spiritual well-being of Catholics before expecting secular authorities to administer to the common good.

Argument: Capital punishment is morally wrong because barbarous acts―murder, treason, etc.―are punished with a barbarous act. The punishment is just as evil as the crime.

This objection would be cogent if the penalty of death were totally disproportionate to the crime. For example, condemning a person for stealing a candy bar. In this case the punishment of death is barbarous. But when the punishment is proportionate to the crime, then the former is quite just. With regard to murder, Immanuel Kant, in The Metaphysics of Morals, exposes the soft underbelly of the abolitionists’ objection:

If however, he has committed a murder, he must die. In this case, there is no substitute that will satisfy the requirements of legal justice. There is no sameness of kind between death and remaining alive even under the most miserable conditions, and consequently there is also no equality between the crime and the retribution unless the criminal is judicially condemned and put to death . . .

It may also be pointed out that no one has ever heard of anyone condemned to death on account of murder who complained that he was getting too much punishment and therefore was being treated unjustly; everyone would laugh in his face if he were to make such a statement. (translated as The Metaphysical Elements of Justice, New York: The Bobbs-Merrill Company, Inc., 1965, pp. 104, 106)

Moreover, the objection that capital punishment is an unjust act would be convincing if it referred to the act of the vigilante. Acts of vengeance by the private individual, for example, lynching, are indeed evil. But the objection is discredited once it is understood that the State has the right to use the death penalty.

CAPITAL PUNISHMENT AND THE STATE

The Church has acknowledged continuously the State’s authority to put a person to death. For example, St. Paul, after he points out that rulers act as God’s representatives in punishing the criminal, speaks of the Roman policy of capital punishment with approval:

Let everyone be subject to the higher authorities, for there exists no authority except from God, and those who exist have been appointed by God. Therefore he who resists the authority resists the ordinance of God and they that resist bring on themselves condemnation. For rulers are a terror not to the good work but to the evil. Dost thou wish, then, not to fear the authority? Do what is good and thou wilt have praise from it. For it is God’s minister to thee for good. But if thou dost what is evil, fear, for not without reason does it carry the sword. For it is God’s minister, an avenger to execute wrath on him who does evil. (Romans 13:1–4)

When the proper authority punishes ―an instance of forceful correction, according to Saint Thomas ―it is an act of justice. Needless to say, the act is good, too, since it is an act and perfection of virtue.

Examined from the point of view of the one punished, punishment is a physical evil; pondered from the side of the authority empowered to punish, however, punishment is a good.

PUNISHMENT: SUFFERING AS EXPIATORY OF EVIL

Socrates revolutionized ethical theory with the discovery that it is better to suffer injustice than to commit it. Evil, for Socrates, does not consist in inflicting pain on others (physical evil). He is concerned with moral evil. Callicles and Polis find this teaching absurd. They think injustice is bad because the individual exposes himself to punishment. Hence, according to them, to do evil and get away with it is a great good. For Socrates, on the other hand, this is the worst evil for man (Gorgias, 479d). Why? Because the person will carry the burden of the evil in his soul as long as he does not undergo the cleansing power of a just punishment (Gorgias, 477; 480). By submitting to justice, the person is released of the burden of injustice and he is much happier for doing so. This is the paradox of punishment (Gorgias, 473).

In order for this purification to take place, however, certain conditions must be met.

1. The criminal must freely submit to the punishment; and

2. the authorities must be willing to punish the offender.

St. Thomas Aquinas emphasizes the purgatorial power of punishment too. The Common Doctor avers that punishment orders guilt: retribution has as its object the maintenance or restoration of justice and order in the soul. For this reason he holds that punishment is an act of virtue (ST, IIa, q. 12, art. 2).

One popular argument against capital punishment also recommends that punishment be abolished altogether in favor of forgiveness. I will now consider this objection.

Argument: Did not Christ replace the law of lex taliones with the law of love? Would not it be more charitable to forgive the criminal than to punish him?

Christ did replace the law of retribution with His commandment of love. He urges Christians to relinquish their individual rights for the sake of charity:

You have heard that it was said ―’An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.’ But I say to you not to resist the evildoer; on the contrary, if someone strike thee on the right cheek, turn to him the other also . . . (Matt. 5:38–39)

However, these words of Christ, which are often cited by the abolitionists as supportive of their position regarding capital punishment, refer to the offended individual, not to the State. As Dietrich von Hildebrand has shown, only the injured person (or someone closely related to the person) can forgive the objective evil done to him or her. In other words, the formal object of human forgiveness is the objective evil for the person; the wrong inflicted on the individual. The pardon refers to the evil intention of the villain inasmuch as it has the negative importance of an objective evil for the person. Note, however, that this does not mean the moral disvalue of the criminal’s act is pardoned by the injured person; for only God (or His representatives on earth whom He has empowered to “bind and loose”) can forgive this aspect of the morally evil act.

Hence for Christians to suggest that the State should pardon the evildoer is to ask for something which is metaphysically impossible for the State to perform. The situation is akin to affirming that contradictory judgments can both be true: the words can be said but the judgment can never correspond to reality. Similarly, the State can make a declaration of forgiveness, but the act can never be exercised in reality.

THE STATE PROTECTS THE COMMON GOOD

The purpose of the State is to protect the community and the common good. Pope John XXIII defines “common good” in Pacem in Terris as follows: “The common good of all embraces the sum total of those conditions of social living whereby men are enabled to achieve their own integral perfection more fully and easily” (58).

And so the State has as its goal the perfection of persons, which in turn makes possible the perfect State. According to St. Thomas, the end of the State ―the perfect State ―is realized when men are living virtuous lives. Moreover, the virtuous life is lived by adhering to the dictates of the natural moral law; such adherence is a divine good insofar as it is a participation in the eternal law (ST, Ia IIae, q. 94, art. 2).

Hence inasmuch as the State guards the common good by sentencing a man to death, it is acting justly. As St. Thomas puts it:

The slaying of an evil-doer is lawful inasmuch as it is directed to the welfare of the whole community, and therefore appertains to him alone who has charge of the community. Now the care of the common good is entrusted to rulers having public authority; and therefore to them is it lawful to slay evil-doers, not to private individuals. (ST, IIa IIae, q. 64, art. 3)

THE LAW OF LEX TALIONES

Far from being unjust or uncharitable, the law of retribution assures the actualization of justice because the criminal is punished in accord with his or her crime. “All other standards,” Kant writes, “fluctuate back and forth, and because extraneous considerations are mixed with the, they cannot be compatible with the principle of pure and strict legal justice” (op. cit., p. 101).

Granted, there are criminal acts which cannot be punished “eye for an eye” Two such acts are bestiality and rape. When the law of retribution cannot be strictly applied, the villain should suffer “that which according to the spirit of the penal law ―even if not to the letter thereof ―is the same as what he has inflicted on others,” Kant rightly asserts (op. cit., p. 133).

In the Old Testament the law of retribution is sanctioned in Exodus 21:23–25, and in Lev. 24:17–21. In addition, the law proclaimed on Mount Sinai ratified the death penalty for the following crimes:

* murder (Ex. 21: 112,14);

* assaulting one’s mother or father (Ex. 21: 15); * kidnapping (Ex. 21: 16);

* cursing one’s mother or father (Ex. 21: 17); * housebreaking at night (Ex. 22: 1);

* and bestiality (Ex. 22: 18).

PUNISHMENT IS A MATTER OF JUSTICE

Punishment is a matter of justice: injustice ought to be punished. Retribution is due the criminal. To the degree that punishment gives the criminal what is due him, it is just; and insofar as it is just, it is also charitable. Thus, the primary question with regard to punishment should be: “Is the punishment just?” All other deliberations ―utilitarian, pedagogical, or deterrent ―are as Kant points out, “extraneous considerations.” There is a due relation between crime and punishment; the individual should be punished if and only if he has committed a crime. Kant explains:

Judicial punishment can never be used merely as a means to promote some other good for the criminal himself or for civil society, but instead it must in all cases be imposed on him only on the ground that he has committed a crime . . . He must first be found to be deserving of punishment before any consideration is given to the utility of this punishment for himself or for his fellow citizens. The law concerning punishment is a categorical imperative, and woe to him who rummages around the winding paths of a theory of happiness looking for some advantage to be gained by releasing the criminal from punishment or by reducing the amount of it. (op. cit., 100).

So seriously does Kant take the concept of due relation between crime and punishment ―and this is as it should be ―that he correctly asserts:

Even if a civil society were to dissolve itself by common agreement of all its members, (for example, if the people inhabiting an island decided to separate and disperse themselves around the world), the last murderer remaining in prison must first be executed, so that everyone will duly receive what his actions are worth. (op. cit., p. 102).

NO PUNISHMENT, NO PERSON

If the concept of due relation between crime and punishment is not considered, the question of justice is left out altogether. Once the question of justice is discarded, then the criminal is treated as something less than a person, an image of God. Instead of being treated as a person who is morally responsible for his actions, he becomes the object of experiments (“Let us see how he reacts in this environment”) deals (“If you supply us with information, your sentence will be reduced”), and ridicule (when used as a scapegoat). As C.S. Lewis observes in his essay, The Humanitarian Theory of Punishment:

Thus when we cease to consider what the criminal deserves and consider only what will cure him or deter others, we have tacitly removed him from the sphere of justice altogether; instead of a person, a subject of rights, we now have a mere object, a patient, a ‘case.’

Moreover, if curing the criminal or deterring others are the only considerations, then the doctrine of determinism is tacitly, if not explicitly, introduced. You see, criminals cannot be punished because man is not free; he is the product of circumstances; the plaything of experiences. What he wills he cannot help but will; for his character has been determined by irrational factors such as upbringing, social and economic conditions, psychological and biological considerations, and the like. Man does not determine his character; his character is the result of experiences and circumstances beyond his control.

The determinist cannot use words like “deplorable,” “wicked,” “shameful,” and “disgraceful” to describe heinous acts because these words make sense only if the criminal is free to choose between good and evil, and therefore is responsible for his actions. If the determinist recommends punishment it is to cure the offender, or to use him to deter others -sometimes both-but never as a means of retribution for criminal acts. Therefore the criminal is treated as something less than a person. And to consider the criminal in this manner is to remove him from the realm of justice altogether. Justice presupposes a person; an animal or an inanimate object can neither possess the perfection of justice nor be the object of it.

CAPITAL PUNISHMENT AND THE BISHOPS

The objections to capital punishment analyzed in this article were given an impetus by the “Statement on Capital Punishment” issued by the bishops in 1980. J. Brien Benestad, in his book The Pursuit of a Just Social Order (Ethics and Public Policy Centre, Washington, D.C., 1982), summarizes the arguments used by the bishops to annul the death penalty. He writes:

The bishops asserted that abolition of the death penalty would promote four Christian values. It would:

1. show that we can break the cycle of violence characteristic of modern society;

2. manifest belief in the dignity of all human beings, who have great worth because they are created in the image of God;

3. testify to the Judeo-Christian and Islamic belief that God is the Lord of life and strengthen the defense of all life, including that of the unborn, the aged, and the infirm; and

4. be most consonant with the teaching and example of Jesus Who practiced forgiveness (pp. 75–76).

Although the bishops concede that support of the death penalty is not incompatible with the teachings of Catholicism, they maintain ―and want Catholics to maintain ―that it is more appropriate as Catholics, more in keeping with the commands of Christ, to advocate abolition of the death penalty. Are not the bishops guilty of doublethink? They fail to realize that if their arguments against capital punishment are valid, then support of the death penalty is unjust, uncharitable, and unchristian. One thing is certain: When the bishops speak individually on the subject of capital punishment, they clearly assert that to uphold the death penalty is incompatible with the principles of the Catholic Faith.

The bishops’ failure to uphold the death penalty is yet another example of their propensity to reject the traditional teaching of the Church. Unfortunately, many Catholics follow their lead. Thus the ever-increasing phenomenon of considering both the Church itself and Catholics who defend her teaching, as unchristian.

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Is One Religion As Good As Another?

REV. JOHN A O’BRIEN, PH.D

INDEX

The prevalent viewpoint in the world today is that of religious indifferentism. Everyone has heard people say “One re- ligion is as good as another.” “It doesn’t matter much what a man believes as long as he does what is right.” It had its unconscious origin in the principle ushered into the world by Martin Luther in the sixteenth century-namely, the principle of the supremacy of private judgment in the interpretation of the Scriptures and as a guide in the religious life. Luther’s example became infectious. Soon Calvin, Zwinglius, Hus, and others proceeded to give their own divergent interpretation to Scriptural texts, and thus established creeds of their own. The process has continued down to the present day, until there are now several hundred conflicting sects destroying the last vestige of unity in the ranks of Protestantism.

It will be the aim of the writer to discuss the subject in a calm, impersonal manner, seeking to cast light and not heat upon it. While at times he may feel compelled by the laws of logic to dissent vigorously from the principles of indifferentism, he has nothing but sentiments of goodwill and affection for the indifferentist. Educated people understand that questions of this nature may be discussed in a frank, honest manner, with a complete absence of ill-will, and with nothing but sentiments of friendliness and affection. It is in this spirit that the writer undertakes the discussion of this question. He asks but one favour of the reader-to enter the discussion with an open mind.

Let us now examine the philosophy of religious indifferentism to see whether or not any rational person can be logically justified in holding it. We shall bring it to trial first before the bar of reason, and then before the tribunal of divine revelation.

OPPOSED TO LOGIC AND COMMON SENSE

In maintaining that one religion is as good as another, regardless of how much the various religions differ from one another, the indifferentist makes an assertion which is opposed to the very first principle of logic and common sense as well. It is a law of logic that contradictory statements cannot be true at the same time. If one statement is true, then all the statements which contradict it are false. Deny this principle of logic and you deny all possibility of correct human reasoning.

Thus, for example, a teacher holds before a class of fifteen pupils a sheet of white paper, asking each pupil to state the colour of the paper. He hears fifteen divergent answers. One says it is “blue”; another, “red”; another, “purple”; another, “yellow”; another, “green;” and so on down to the fifteenth pupil, who alone says it is “white.” Let us suppose that the teacher has so much affection for every member of his class, that he would tell them that they are all correct, rather than that they are all wrong save one. Suppose, then, that he were thus to address them after the fashion of the indifferentist: “Children, you are all equally correct. You who say it is purple, you who say it is red, you who say it is green, and all the rest of you are equally correct with the pupil who says it is white. Each one of you is correct, and no one of you is wrong.” While one might not be disposed to question the affection and large-heartedness of such a teacher, everyone would be compelled to question his sanity. In giving full rein to the impulses of the heart, he stifles all the dictates of reason and common sense. He is able to agree with these fifteen divergent answers simultaneously only at the cost of intellectual suicide.

Is it not passing strange how people will recognize the validity of this elementary principle of logic in all the practical concerns of their daily life, and then upon entering the domain of religion promptly proceed to throw it overboard? Yet that is precisely what the indifferentist does. He attempts the same impossible “mental gymnastics” as the teacher above described.

Do not the various denominations differ from one another . just as obviously and flagrantly as the pupils did in their answers? Thus, in answer to the question, “How many persons are there in God?” the Unitarian replies, “Only One,” while the Methodist answers, “Three, the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost.” Is it possible for any person to say in reply: “I agree with both of you. You are both correct?” Not without destroying all possibility of correct human reasoning.

DIFFERENCES IN DOCTRINE OF SECTS

This instance of difference in doctrine between the Methodist and the Unitarian can be paralleled on down the line among all the creeds. For each sect constitutes a distinct denomination only because it differs on some one or more important doctrines from all the other creeds. Thus, Baptists reject infant baptism as invalid, while Lutherans regard it as valid; Catholics believe that the Holy Eucharist contains the Body and Blood, Soul and Divinity of Our Saviour, while Presbyterians regard Holy Communion as merely a symbol or reminder of Christ.

These are the differences which our Holy Father, Pius XI, in his encyclical on “True Religious Unity,” on January 6. 1928, points out as frustrating all effort of PanChristians at attaining real unity. “Though what agreement,” he asks, “could men of opposed opinions become one and the same society of the faithful? How, for example, can they who affirm that sacred tradition is a true source of divine revelation and they who deny it become members of one Church? They who hold that an ecclesiastical authority formed of bishops, priests, and ministers is divinely constituted, and they who assert that little by little it has been introduced through conditions of time and events? They who adore Christ really present in the Most Holy Eucharist, by that wonderful change of bread and wine called transubstantiation, and they who say that the Body of Christ is present there only though the sign and the virtue of the sacrament; they who hold that in the Eucharist there is a sacrifice and a sacrament, and they who say that it is only a remembrance or commemoration of the sufferings of Our Lord? They who believe it good and useful to pray to the saints reigning with Christ, and above all to Mary, the Virgin Mother of Jesus, and they who pretend that such a form of worship is wrong because it draws from the honour due to Jesus Christ, “the one mediator of God and men.” (Cf. I Tim., ii, 5.)

“In su ch great differences of opinions we do not know how a road may be paved to the unity of the Church save alone through one teaching authority, one sole law of belief and one sole faith among Christians. Moreover, we know how easy is the path to neglect of religion, to indifferentism, and also to modernism, which holds the very same error, to wit: Dogmatic truth is not absolute but relative; it is proportionate to the different needs of times and places and to the various tendencies of the mind, since it isnot based upon an unchanging revelation, but to be accommodated to the life of men.”

CONSEQUENCES ARE FAR-REACHING

From these fundamental differences in doctrine there flow practical corollaries of far-reaching consequences. For if the Unitarian be right when he says Christ is a mere man, then the Anglican who esteems Him as divine and so adores Him becomes guilty of idolatry. By the same token, if the Anglican is right, then the Unitarian who denies His divinity, and refuses to worship Him as divine, but treats Him as a mere human, become guilty of blasphemy. In other words, the proposition of the indifferentist, that all creeds are equally good, means in its concrete significance that vice is as good as virtue, falsehood as good as truth, and idolatry as good as true worship. It means the obliteration of all objective criteria for the determination of truth and the negation of all human reason.

There may be some, however, who should say that the principle of the indifferentist that one religion is as good as another is valid if applied to the various denominations of Protestantism to the exclusion of Catholicism. Even this expedient will not avail. For while the principle of private judgment is basic among all Protestant sects, yet they differ from one another in the objective doctrines in which they profess to believe. Thus the pathetic complaint of Theodore Beza, one of the early reformers of the sixteenth century, is as true now as when he uttered it. “Our people,” he bewails, “are carried away by every wind of doctrine. If you know what their religion is today, you cannot tell what it may be tomorrow. In what single point are those churches which declared war against the Pope united among themselves? There is not one point which is not held by some of them as an article of the faith and by others rejected as an impiety.” (Epist. ad Aud. Dudit.)

CHRIST WAS NOT AN INDIFFERENTIST

Time was when Christians were willing to follow the example of their Divine Master and His apostles in braving torture and death itself rather than deny or even modify the tenets of their religious faith. For their refusal to deny Christ and offer incense to the idols of pagan Rome, thousands of Christians in the first three centuries were thrown into the Roman amphitheatre, to be torn limb from limb by the savage beasts of the arena, while thousands of others were coated with pitch and tar and burned alive to illumine at night the gladiatorial contests of the Romans.

For, still fresh in the minds of these early Christians was that memorable scene wherein Christ had set them the example of unswerving loyalty to the truths of a supernatural revelation at the cost of life itself. The dramatic scene was enacted before the high priest, Caiphas, in the crowded court room of the Jewish Sanhedrin, on the eve of His death. Caiphas, rising up from his seat, addressed Christ with the challenging words: “I adjure Thee by the living God, that Thou tell us if Thou be the Christ, the Son of God.” (Matt. xxvi, 63.)

Now, there was a law among the Jews that subjected to capital punishment the person who claimed divine honours. Christ knew full well that if He answered that question in the affirmative He was sealing His own death warrant. He knew also that if He would but deny His divinity the Jews would have no legal charge against Him, and He could escape the impending tragedy. In the face of this knowledge, without equivocation or evasion, but with rapier-like precision, the Master answered simply and clearly: “Thou hast said it.” And forthwith they led Him out to be crucified.

Hence Christ went to His death upon the ignominious cross rather than save His life by modifying in the slightest degree one single tenet of His teaching. That was the example which loomed up before the minds of the Christian world for centuries, prompting them to an unfaltering loyalty to His teachings, causing them to regard orthodoxy of faith as of supreme importance, and to preclude the acceptance of the viewpoint that it is a matter of comparative indifference as to whether one accepts, rejects, or modifies the teachings for which Christ died.

The procedure of Christ in refusing to soften or tone down His answer to the question of Caiphas to suit the prejudices of the Jewish Sanhedrin is typical of His manner of teaching during His entire public ministry. It is clear, therefore, that Christ Himself was no indifferentist.

INDIFFERENTISM IN THE LIGHT OF REVELATION

Let us inquire now if Christ imposed the same obligation upon His disciples and all those who would come to the knowledge of the faith through their teaching. In other words, did Christ command the apostles to teach His exact doctrine, and impose upon their hearers the obligation of accepting those doctrines taught by the apostles? If Christ issued this dual command, then religious indifferentism stands condemned before the tribunal of divine revelation.

Let us examine, therefore, the very words with which our divine Saviour establishes His Church and commissions the apostles to preach the gospel. To obviate many objections from our non-Catholic readers, the texts will be taken from the Protestant version of the Bible. These are the words of Christ to the apostles: “All authority hath been given unto Me in heaven and on earth. Go ye, therefore, and make disciples of all the nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost: teaching them to observe all things whatsoever I command you; and lo, I am with you always, even unto the end of the world.” (Matt. xxviiialways, even unto the end of the world.” (Matt. xxviii20.) “And He said unto them, Go ye into all the world, and preach the gospel to the whole creation. He that believeth and is baptized shall be saved; but he that disbelieveth shall be condemned.” (Mark xvi, 15, 16.)

From these words of Christ, a twofold obligation is evident. First, the apostles are commissioned to preach the gospel to all nations without exception. Christ came to save the souls of all mankind. He wanted His religion, therefore, to become the universal religion of the whole human race. If any race or even any individual would refuse to accept His religion, the aim and purpose of the divine revelation would to that extent be frustrated.

Secondly, Christ imposed upon the apostles the obligation of teaching the same identical doctrines which He had taught them: “Teaching them to observe all things whatsoever I command you.” In other words, the apostles were not to teach different doctrines in accordance with the divergent whims and fancies of each individual. On the contrary, they were charged to teach “all things whatsoever” Christ had delivered unto them. They were given no liberty to teach one doctrine and reject another. The entire Christian gospel hung together as one great organic whole. This they were to impart, without omission or addition, without change or mutilation, to the whole world.

Having established the fact that Christ charged His apostles to teach the same identical truths to all nations, the question may still remain in the minds of some as to whether Christ made the acceptance of the gospel message obligatory upon the hearers or left them free to accept, modify, or reject the same. It will become evident upon reflection, however, that Christ could not logically confer upon the apostles the moral power and authority of preaching the gospel to the multitudes without placing upon the latter the correlative duty of accepting it. For every right implies a corresponding duty on the part of another to respect that right. Hence the solemn delegation to the apostles of the moral power of teaching with authority would be meaningless and contradictory if Christ did not impose the corresponding obligation on the part of the hearers to receive the message thus conveyed.

BELIEF IN CHRIST’S TEACHINGS- A COMMAND

We shall not content ourselves, however, with this answer to the question-an answer clearly implied in Christ’s man- date to the apostles. For Christ Himself has put in explicit form the duty on the part of the hearers, which is implicit in His commission to the apostles. For, after His charge to the apostles, He clearly defines the duty of the auditors of the gospel message by adding immediately: “He that believeth and is baptized shall be saved; but he that disbelieveth shall be condemned.” From these clear words of Our Divine Master it is apparent that He gave to the auditors no more freedom to re- ject the teachings than He gave to the apostles to modify them. He had come upon earth to reveal these supernaturaltruths, and He made it as mandatory on the part of the listeners to accept the revelation as it was mandatory for the apostles to preach it. The exponent of the theory that it does not matter much what a man believes finds, therefore, that his theory is the direct opposite of the teaching of Christ on the necessity of believing the precise doctrines which He committed to the world though the teaching of the apostles. Not only does Christ insist upon the acceptance of His divinely revealed truths by every hearer, but He makes it the indispensable condition for eternal salvation.

Christ did not stop, however, with commissioning the apostles to teach His doctrines. To counteract any impression on the part of the apostles that they were not able correctly to present His truths, and to remove any misgivings that might be felt by the hearers on the ground that the apostles, being human and fallible, might unconsciously mislead them, the divine Master hastened to assure the apostles of His abiding presence and ceaseless assistance, saying: “And lo, I am with you always, even unto the end of the world.” (Matt. xxviii, 20.) “But the Comforter, even the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in My name, He shall teach you allthings, and bring to your remembrance all that I said unto you.” (John xiv, 26.) Hence, while the apostles of themselves were fallible, Christ gave them the assurance that in the mission of preaching His doctrines He would be with them all days, safeguarding them from error and stamping their teachings with the seal of His own divine approval. For, in the same manner as the Father had commissioned Him, so He authorized them, saying, “As the Father hath sent Me so I send you.”

CHRIST EMPHASIZED UNITY OF FAITH

Moreover, this same absolute oneness of faith and religion, implied in Christ’s commission to His apostles, is inferred with equal clearness from every reference which He makes to His Church. That Church He always speaks of as one, not as many. He speaks of it as one family, one fold, one city, one kingdom. He builds it upon one foundation, the rock, which is Peter. He appoints but one supreme pastor to feed His lambs and to guard His sheep; but one vicar to whom He gives the keys of the Kingdom of Heaven. He seems to have multiplied illustration upon illustration, and figure upon figure, in order to impress upon His apostles the absolute necessity of unity in the faith.

So insistent was Christ upon unity of faith that the gospels portray Him emphasizing this truth in season and out of season. Thus, on the very eve of His Passion, He made it the special object of His prayer: “Holy Father, keep them in Thy name which Thou hast given Me; that they may be one, even as We are.” (John xvii, 11.) To make it apparent that He intended this unity not only for His apostles but for all the countless multitudes who in the ages yet to come would believe in Him, Christ added the significant words: “Neither for these only (the apostles) do I pray, but for them also that believe in me through their word; that they may all be one.” (John xvii, 20.)

This dominant emphasis of Christ upon the necessity of unity of faith is re-echoed by the apostles in their teaching ministry. Faithfully, indeed, did they discharge the sacred mission entrusted to them. With steadfast loyalty to their Divine Master, they exemplified that unity in their own lives and counselled their followers to hold fast to that same unity of faith. Thus the indefatigable apostle of the Gentiles writes tothe Ephesians: “I, therefore, the prisoner in the Lord, beseech you to walk worthily of the calling wherewith you were called. . . . . There is one body and one Spirit, even as also ye were called in one hope of your calling; one Lord, one Faith, one baptism, one God and Father of all.” (Ephes. iv, 1–6.)

ST. PAUL CONDEMNS LACK OF UNITY

It is evident, therefore, that the great apostle of the Gentiles, in common with the other apostles, regarded a distortion or modification of any part of the divine revelation as deserving of the severest censures. Of the indifferentist who asserts that doctrinal differences are inconsequential, as all creeds are about equally good, St. Paul says in effect: “Let a man who preaches to you a doctrine different from the gospel delivered to you by Christ and the apostles, be shunned as a heretic, who would pervert your faith. Let him be regarded as a most insidious danger to your true faith, and if such a one after the first admonition still persists in his heresy, he is to be excommunicated from your midst.” These words may sound stern, but they are no more so than the words of the gentle Jesus: “He that believeth not, shall be condemned.”

SALVATION OUTSIDE THE TRUE FOLD?

The question may be asked, “Does the Catholic Church believe, then, that all persons who are not members of her fold will be condemned?” Here a distinction is necessary. There are members of the body of the Church, and members of the soul of the Church. Those are members of the body of the Church who formally profess her faith, are visibly united to her in public worship and in the reception of her sacraments. Those, on the other hand, who, through no culpable negligence of their own, do not know that the Church is the true Church, but who believe that they are members of the true Church and who live up to the lights of their own conscience, are said to be members of the soul of the Church. In contrast with these are those who are convinced of the truth of the Catholic Church, but who for some selfish reason fail to profess their faith in her. It is only of these latter, who remain out of the Church, in bad faith, until death, that the Church teaches that the words of Christ apply: “He that believeth not, shall be condemned.”

Of course, there rests upon every rational human being the obligation of seeking to find out the true Church. A matter which involves such far-reaching consequences demands the careful study and prudent investigation of everyone. Moreover, it is the view of the Church that every person who, with an open mind and without prejudice, investigates in a careful and impartial manner the evidence of her claims to be convinced of the truth of those claims. For the objective evidence she presents is simply overwhelming to the person who looks at it with an eye single to the facts. In the few cases where conviction does not occur, the result will be found to be traceable to subjective circumstances, such as latent antagonism and prejudice, which may be unconsciously present, as a consequence of having been taught from one’s early youth to regard the Church with hatred as an evil institution.

While salvation is possible for those who are only members of the soul of the Church, every effort should be made to win them to membership in the body of the Church as well. Why? Because such persons do not avail themselves of the great aids to salvation which Christ offers in His sacraments-especially Penance and Holy Communion. True, perfect contrition without the Sacrament of Penance will remit sin. But the fact, nevertheless, remains that these two great sacraments are powerful aids divinely established to facilitate the fulfilment of the Christian’s supreme task, the attainment of eternal salvation. To bring the beneficent ministry of these two great sacraments to the non-Catholic, and even to the person who may be said to be in the soul of the Church, constitutes the mainspring of Catholic missionary endeavour.

THE LIFE OF THE RELIGIOUS PARASITE

A final question remains. “How is it, then,” asks the person affected by the viewpoint of the indifferentist, “if mem- bership in the true religion is so essential for eternal salvation, and therefore presumably for right living, that there are persons who are not members of the Church of Christ, but are professed atheists, who yet lead good lives and are highly respected citizens?” The answer is to be found in the fact that such persons, living in a society permeated with Christian ideals, are profoundly influenced, consciously or unconsciously, by the moral standards and the code of ethics inspired by the teachings of Christ. It will usually be found, upon analysis, that every trait which commends them in the eyes of their fellow-citizens is traceable to the standards of conduct inculcated by the religion of Christ. They are good citizens, not because of their atheism, but in spite of it.

Suppose a boy were to take his sled to the top of a hill two blocks long, and then coast down. After he has reached the bottom of the hill his sled still continues to travel rapidly along the level ground. If a person standing a block beyond the bottom of the hill were to see the youngster gliding rapidly over the level ground and did not raise his eyes to perceive the hill in the background, he might hold the following soliloquy: “What a marvellous invention that must be! A sled that is drawn by no horse, nor propelled by a motor, that yet travels rapidly along on level ground!” The mystery would fade away, however, when once he raised his eyes to the hill in the offing. whence the sled derived its momentum and energy. Coasting along now on even ground, it is travelling on borrowed power. So it is with the irreligious person living in a society saturated with Christian ideals and standards. He is running on borrowed power; consciously or unconsciously he is influenced at every turn by the group standards, which are in the main the result of nineteen centuries of leavening by the Christian religion.

Such a person is essentially a moral parasite. As Balfour, in his Foundation’s of Belief, observes: “Biologists tell us of parasites which live, and can only live, in the bodies of animals more highly organized than they. . . . . . So it is with those persons who claim to show by their example that naturalism is practically consistent with the maintenance of ethical ideals with which naturalism has no natural affinity. Their spirit life is parasitic; it is sheltered by convictions which belong not to them, but to the society of which they form a part; it is nourished by processes in which they take no share. And when these convictions decay, and these processes come to an end, the alien life which they have maintained can scarce be expected to outlast them.”

DIFFICULTY OF RECLAIMING IRRELIGIOUS PERSONS

Furthermore, when a person without any religious belief falls from the path of rectitude, the task of reclaiming such an individual is immensely more difficult than in the case of his religious neighbour. Why? Because there are so comparatively few functional incentives that can be brought to bear upon his conscience. If the ten commandments be regarded as but temporary laws evolved out of the consciousness of the Semitic race, which have become obsolete, if God’s existence is questioned, and the fact of immortality is denied, what basis for the observance of the moral law remains? The individual knows that he can escape the penalty decreed by the civil law, as well as the social opprobrium which generally falls only upon the culprit so awkward as to be detected in his misdemeanour.

With the person of definite religious faith, however, the case is different. Here there is an abundance of supernatural incentives which spring directly from the Christian religion. Unlike the ones decreed by civil legislation, and which are dependent for their efficacy upon clumsy, fallible human agents for their enforcement, the sanctions of religion are applied with unerring certainty by the all-seeing eye of Almighty God. The religious-minded individual may be said to have, therefore, a policeman always with him in the form of his own conscience.

Hence a religious faith helps not only to restrain an individual from falling, but also to reclaim him if he has violated a moral law in spite of the protests of his own conscience. The true Christian may, under stress of temptation, fall into the worst vices of the pagan, and give the lie to his high profession. But no matter how low he may fall, he falls from a standard, and you may appeal to him. He has once climbed up the mount of God, and he knows that with God’s help he can again reach the summit. But if a man feels confident that every lapse is due merely to the evil of environment, a taint in the blood, or the impelling force of a stronger will, he will not answer your appeal to higher things. He calls evil good, and good evil.

Nihil Obstat:

W. M. COLLINS,

Censor Dioc.

Imprimatur:

@ D. MANNIX,

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis. November, 1953.

********

Is The Pope Infallible?

BY THE REV. H. B. LOUGHNAN, S.J

INDEX

PART I

THE NATURE OF INFALLIBILITY

IN this paper we treat of what is technically called the in: fallibility of the Pope. As another pamphlet of the Dogmatic Series treats of the infallibility of the Church, we can take as already sufficiently explained much that otherwise would have to be dwelt upon. Hence, when in order to clear the ground a few preliminary remarks are found necessary, we make them very briefly, as they will elsewhere have been more fully set forth.

INFALLIBILITY DISTINCT FROM INSPIRATION AND FROM REVELATION First, a word on the nature of infallibility. This gift is not to be confused with that of inspiration. We should be safe in saying that the essence of inspiration at least implies that man’s intellect and will are supernaturally moved by God to express what He wishes to be stated in His name. But infallibility, as we shall see, does not demand such an action on the part of God; and hence an ex cathedra definition cannot be said to be the Word of God in the same sense in which the Scriptures are so called: for God is not the author of what the Pope says; He only guarantees that the statement is true. Much less is an infallible pronouncement to be regarded as a new revelation made to the Pope. For revelation requires that the person to whom a revealed doctrine is manifested should not only be conscious of its truth, but should also be aware that it is God Who declares it to him.

INFALLIBILITY IS A SAFEGUARD

In what, then, does infallibility consist? It consists in a divine guarantee of assurance on the part of God that the Pope-in certain well-defined circumstances-will not teach error. This could be the case though God did not either reveal the truth to him or even give supernatural assistance to aid him in coming to a decision. We may indeed conjecture that God .does give special help, but that He should do so is not included in the notion of infallibility. We conceive of God standing by, as it were, and watching to see that the final decision is correct. He does not guarantee that an authoritative statement will be made whenever one would be useful, but merely that, if such a one is made, it will be true.

A rough analogy will illustrate what is meant by the promise of infallibility: -I am an accomplished mathematician, and I promise a pupil that he will not give a wrong .answer to a problem in arithmetic. I fulfil my agreement if, when the boy is at work, I stand over him and prevent him setting out the wrong answer; I may even let him go wrong at one or other point in his calculations and balance it by making another error elsewhere; I may tell him the answer, but I need not. All that is required is that the solution be correct. Note, therefore, two things: Firstly, if I stop him when I see him about to go wrong, I carry out my promise, even though he comes to no decision. Secondly, if the boy arrives at the right answer, though at fault in some of the steps which lead to it, I have even here been faithful to my word; for the answer is correct.

AN OBJECTION BASED ON A MISCONCEPTION OF THE NATURE OF INFALLIBILITY This preliminary exposition robs a common objection of its force. Our adversaries contend that in reality the Church does not claim infallibility, either for herself or for her Head. They appeal to certain disputes amongst orthodox Catholics, when feeling ran very high and much bitter controversy ensued. The classic example given is the marked difference between the theories adopted for reconciling free-will with the action of divine grace; each side defended its case with great acumen and sometimes with considerable bitterness. And it is urged that the Pope cannot claim to be infallible, since he gave no decision: instead, he adopted the tame middle course of imposing silence upon the contending parties; and, as a result, the controversy has been left undecided to this day.

The reply to this objection is obvious. The claim to be infallible does not imply that a decision will be given every time that it might seem fitting for us to have one; if it did include this implication, then it would follow that God is not infallible. Infallibility only means that, when a final and authoritative decision is given, such decision will be true; it is left to the prudent judgment of the Pope to decide whether or not the time is ripe for an infallible reply. In the historic case we have referred to, the Pope had in point of fact taken it upon himself to settle the disputed question, and was engaged in the laborious task of examining the debated doctrines when he died. His successors thought it wise not to refer to old quarrels; they have allowed the contending parties to continue their speculations upon this abstruse subject, always on the understanding that mutual charity be preserved. And we can honestly say that the fact of the debate never being closed has not been without good result; for it is the aim of every student of theology to grasp thoroughly the two conflicting views; and this has been no small stimulus in examining questions concerning the operations of grace.

INFALLIBILITY DISTINCT FROM INERRANCY

In the next place, infallibility is not synonymous with inerrancy; it does not mean that the Roman Pontiff is prevented by God from privately holding views which are unorthodox. Thus, if the Pope published a theological work, as did Benedict XIV, we do not believe that error is necessarily excluded. Such a book would contain merely the expression of private opinions; and though naturally paying more deference to them than to the views of other theologians, we should be under no obligation to receive them as true. For, as a child who knows his catechism would remark, the Pope in this case is not imposing upon the whole Church the duty of assenting to a particular doctrine of faith.

THE SPHERE OF INFALLIBILITY

We have next to state the ambit of infallibility. It extends as far as and no farther than the infallibility of the Church. That is to say, the question which the Pope decides must, in some way, affect the substance of Christ’s teaching. The Vatican Council is explicit on this point: “The Holy Spirit was not promised to Peter’s successors that by the aid of His revelation they might proclaim new teaching, but that by the aid of His assistance they might sacredly guard and faithfully expound the revelation or deposit of faith handed down through the Apostles.”

One naturally asks, what must be the connection between the doctrine taught infallibly and the original tradition. The connection must be one of three: First, the doctrine defined may be a truth formally and explicitly revealed-as, for example, that Christ Our Lord has a human and a divine nature; secondly, it may be a truth likewise formally revealed, but not in clear and precise terms-as, for instance that Jesus Christ has a human and divine will which are distinct from each other; this is part of the revelation that He is truly God and truly Man; and thirdly, it may be a truth which is logically deduced from, and is so closely bound up with what is formally revealed, that were it rejected, this body of revealed truth would be in danger.

We have limited the sphere in which the privilege of infallibility can be exercised. But at the same time we must ever lay great emphasis upon the fact that quite independently of his infallibility, the Pope can exercise his supreme authority and may decide whether a doctrine may or may not be taught, or he may condemn opinions and censure those who hold them. For without acting as an infallible guide, he may use the authority which belongs to him as the Head of the Church. Being the legitimate head of a society which is hierarchial, he has the right to enforce such decisions as he may deem fitting, and this not merely in external matters but also in those of conscience. We have a fairly close parallel in the relations of a parent towards his child: it may be very inadvisable that a boy in his early teens should hold some of the doctrines of evolution or of modern eugenics; his father is justified not only in forbidding him to read books favouring these views, but also in obliging him to reject these opinions. This the parent does without claiming that his judgments are infallibly correct. He is the teacher appointed by God to instruct the child, and has, therefore, the right to claim obedience.

From this we make an important deduction. When, even on matters of faith or morals, a decision is come to by the Pope and its acceptance is made binding upon the conscience of some individuals, we have not necessarily got an infallible pronouncement, since, as we have seen, he could act in this way from the mere fact that he holds a position similar to that held by a father in relation to his children, i.e., the Pope can claim obedience because appointed by God to teach. For a decision to be infallible, it is further required that the Pope exercise his privilege of infallible teacher; and when he does this he intimates clearly enough that this is his intention. Our reason for stressing this point is that it gives us a satisfactory answer to some of the strongest objections urged against the Catholic position.

PART II. PROOF OF OUR DOCTRINE

(A) THE VATICAN COUNCIL.-We now advance our proof for papal infallibility. For a Catholic who believes in the infallibility of the Church there is little difficulty, since the Vatican Council (1869–1870) has authoritatively taught the doctrine. “ . . . We teach and define that it is a divinely revealed dogma that the Roman Pontiff, when speaking ex cathedra-that is when exercising his office of pastor and teacher of all Christians and when employing his supreme apostolic authority-defines that a doctrine on faith and morals is to be held by the whole Church, then because of the assistance of God promised to him in the person of St. Peter, he enjoys that infallibility with which Our Divine Redeemer wished His Church to be furnished in defining a doctrine on faith or morals; and that, therefore, these definitions of the Roman Pontiff of themselves and not through the consent of the Church, are irreformable.”

(B) THE DOCTRINE FOUND IN TRADITION. -The objection that this doctrine is new and was not always believed in by the Church, is met by the Vatican Council itself. Before formulating its teaching, it is at great pains to show that from the very earliest times, the Church not only acted on the supposition that the primacy of the Roman See included the infallibility of the Pope, but that the Pope actually used his personal authority and received unquestioning obedience from the Councils. We find cited the following general synods of the Church: The Fourth Council of Constantinople (A.D. 869); here it is stated that the Apostolic See has never erred in its teaching, and as a reason for this the Council cites Our Divine Lord’s promise to St. Peter: “Thou art Peter, and upon this rock I will build My Church.” The Second Council of Lyons (1274); here the Greek Bishops assert: “If any questions arise concerning the faith, it is by his judgment (the Pope’s) that they are defined.” Finally, the Council of Florence (1438) states: “The Roman Pontiff is Christ’s true vicar, the Head of the whole Church, and the Father and teacher of all Christians; and by Our Lord Jesus Christ there was given to him, in the person of St. Peter, full power to feed and rule and govern the universal Church.” We may add one historic case where a general Council admitted in a very marked way that the Pope can make an infallible pronouncement independently of the Bishops assembled in Council. Pope St. Leo (440–461) sent to the Council of Chalcedon a masterful exposition of the doctrine of the Incarnation; he further enjoined the Council to accept this as an authoritative decision which they were to make their own and were to promulgate by incorporating in their acts. The Council not only accepted the position assumed by the Pope, they accepted his doctrine and went on to state that it was divinely guaranteed as true. They passed their vote by the acclamation: “Peter has spoken through Leo.” Several other instances could be quoted where a Pope dictated to a General Council what doctrine it was to define; in each case he met with no opposition on the ground that he was usurping authority that belonged to him only as a member of a Council, or on the ground that his decrees were infallible only when accepted and confirmed by such a body. Thus the Vatican Council taught no new doctrine when it defined the dogma of papal infallibility; it gave us in precise and explicit terms a doctrine which was always held by the Church.

The pretended aim of not a few Protestants and High Church Anglicans is to return to the doctrines of the early Church, wherein, they tell us, the powers now claimed for the Pope were unknown. But from the facts we have stated, it is clear that these religious bodies cannot claim to hold the pure teaching of the early Church, unless they can disprove our contention that from the earliest times this prerogative of the Pope was admitted. We assert that we have history on our side.

It may be of interest to note in conclusion that the Lutherans and Protestants who deny papal infallibility really claim for each individual far more than the Catholic Church claims for its Head. Luther denied the Catholic doctrine and put in its place the principle of “private interpretation of the Scripture.” He asserted that the Holy Ghost inspired each devout reader of the Scripture with the meaning of what he was reading. Luther thus substituted for one infallible teacher a host of infallible interpreters, each of them with far greater privileges than Catholics claim for the Pope-for every reader is not merely prevented from error, he is inspired as well!

(C) PROOF FROM SCRIPTURE. -Can we show from Our Divine Lord’s words in the New Testament that the promise of being an infallible teacher was made not only to St. Peter but also to his successors in the Apostolic See? Yes. Three passages are commonly adduced-St. Matthew xvi. 18, St. Luke xxii. 31–32, and St. John xxi. 15–17. The first gives us the proof which is most easily grasped. But in the meantime we turn to the 22nd chapter of St. Luke’s Gospel; verse 31 reads:

“And the Lord said: Simon, Simon, behold Satan hath desired to have you that he might sift you as wheat: but I have prayed for thee that thy faith fail not: and thou being once converted confirm thy brethren.” Now, it is clear that this prayer of Christ is not merely the expression of a conditional wish, such as we find in the account of the Agony in the Garden; there Our Lord prayed that the chalice might pass from Him, but on the condition that this was His Father’s will. In the passage we are considering, the whole context shows that there is, no such proviso intended: the prayer is nothing less than an explicit promise that Peter’s faith will not fail; that after his conversion (Our Lord hints at a fall) he would, because of this unerring faith, be the mainstay of his brethren. At least, then, this much is clear, that to St. Peter was given the promise of unerring faith which would make him an infallible teacher of the other Apostles. This interpretation of the passage is greatly strengthened by tradition; the text is one upon which the Fathers of the Church lay much stress when they are setting forth their arguments for their belief in the Pope’s right to teach with authority; for they make constant reference to Peter’s gift of infallible faith. We could, moreover, show that this passage in St. Luke also proves the second proposition, viz., that the promise of infallibility also extends to Peter’s successors. But this latter truth is more clearly seen from an examination of St. Matthew xvi. 18 : “Thou art Peter and upon this Rock I will build My Church and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it.” If the Church once teaches heresy and commands her children to entertain false notions about God, the divinity of Christ, the nature of the sacraments, etc., hell’ certainly wins a victory. Hence from the clause “the gates (or power) of hell shall not prevail against it,” we conclude that the Church is guaranteed against making any such mistakes.

We have now to show that this promise extends not only to the Church as a teaching body, but also to the Head of the Church. Let us again examine the passage: “Thou art Peter and upon this Rock I will build My Church and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it.” Does Our Lord here state any reason why the power of hell shall not gain a victory over the Church? Yes. The rock foundation is to account for the stability of the building; because of this foundation the superstructure will endure unimpaired by the assaults of the powers of darkness. Now, this foundation must endure as long as the Church itself, otherwise it cannot be the cause of the Church’s stability. Christ, therefore, is not restricting His promise to St. Peter, but is extending it to his successors. This is our ground for contending that the Pope, who is in St. Peter’s place, is heir to the promise made to the Prince of the Apostles.

FOUR OBJECTIONS AGAINST THIS INTERPRETATION

FIRST OBJECTION.-It is urged that when Our Lord says “upon this Rock,” He means “upon Myself,” in that He is the “corner stone” mentioned in the prophecies. But such an interpretation does open violence to the text. In the first place, from the context it is clear beyond all doubt that Our Lord is rewarding St. Peter for his superb confession of faith in the divinity of his Master. But the mere statement that Christ Our Lord is to be the Founder of His Church is no reward to St. Peter. Secondly, the Greek and the Latin words used in the passage are against this unnatural interpretation. There is intended a play upon the words “Petros” (netpos) and “Petra” (netpa): clearly the same individual is meant by each of these names. This is more clearly shown by the Aramaic, which Christ spoke; for here the word would be the same in both clauses-Kepha-and the sentence would sound like this

Thou art called Rock; and upon this Rock I will build My Church. Lastly, on the view which we are rejecting, Our Lord’s statement is peculiarly disconnected and obscure. He would say in effect: “Blessed art thou Simon Bar-Jona (Son of Jona), because flesh and blood hath not revealed it (My divinity) to thee, but My Father Who is in heaven. And I say to thee that thou art Peter (‘the Rock’) and upon Myself I will build My Church.” This last sentence is at least illogical; Our Lord is contrasting the blessing Peter has received from the Father in Heaven and that now about to be bestowed upon him; yet Our Lord bestows nothing!

SECOND OBJECTION. -The same answer applies to another forced interpretation, according to which the Rock on which Christ will build His Church, is the faith of Peter. It simply ignores the identity between Peter (Kepha) and the Rock (Kepha). Let us suppose that an officer named Head is being rewarded for gallant service and that the Field Marshal thus addresses him: “No ordinary man could have acted as you did, but only one endowed with conspicuous bravery. Thou art Head, and under this head I place the army.” Could it be urged seriously that the Marshal means that the officer’s bravery will be the mainstay of the army? Surely the play upon the words identifies Head with the man who is to be the leader of that army.

THIRD OBJECTION. -It is urged that, if we are consistent, we should also claim that the Pope is incapable of sinning, or at least must never sin. For, if hell is not to triumph over the Church, her holiness must be as certain as her infallibility. Therefore, if we base the Church’s infallibility upon that of the Pope, we ought in like manner state that the cause of her holiness is the sanctity of her Head. But we make no such claim and could not, in the face of history.

This difficulty rests upon the misleading parallel drawn between infallibility and holiness. Holiness is not communicable between man and man, except by prayer and good example; in itself the fact that a Pope is holy or wicked does not necessitate that the members of the Church are like him. But if a Pope teaches error and has authority to enforce it, then the faithful necessarily follow him in believing falsehood about God. Hence when we allege as one of the causes of the Church’s infallibility the divine assistance promised to its Head, we are not, in consequence, bound to say that the Church, if holy, must have a saint for its Pope. The sacraments and grace-not the moral qualities of the Roman Pontiff-are the main causes of the Church’s sanctity.

FOURTH OBJECTION. -Finally, an example is brought forward to show that Christ’s promise of victory to His Church is compatible with occasional lapses into error on the part of the Pope. A general sends an officer on an expedition against the enemy. He promises the officer that the hostile forces will not prevail against him. Does this imply that in no single engagement will the officer be worsted, or only that the campaign will finally be triumphant? This latter result suffices. In like manner, it is urged, Christ promises that because of Peter being the rock foundation of the Church, the powers of hell will not prevail against it. Why should this imply that hell will never gain a victory in that the Pope once teaches heresy? Is it not enough that the Church will finally triumph over error?

The analogy is misleading; the results of partial failure are not the same in the two cases. With the officer, a partial failure or temporary defeat does not spell total disaster; but it does spell total disaster in the second case; for if the Pope on one single occasion teaches heresy, how are we to be sure that he will not do so again? We are then in a position just as deplorable as that of the non-Catholic sects who have no ultimate authority to decide their controversies. Clearly we are playing with words if we contend that Christ’s promise merely means that at the Last Day there will be no error taught in the Church, while for centuries there have prevailed discord and contradictory doctrines and perverse views on matters as important as the nature of God, the Incarnation, the sacraments, the immortality of the soul, etc.

PART III

A.-POPE HONORIUS

We now mention an historic case which our adversaries never tire of quoting. It is alleged that one Pope in particular so egregiously erred in his authoritative teaching, that a General Council condemned him in the most open and vigorous language. From this the conclusion is drawn that papal infallibility is weighed in the balance and is found wanting; and secondly that the Council in condemning the Pope clearly showed that it did not admit the doctrine that he could not err. We refer to the case of Pope Honorius. Much ink has been spilt on this famous question. Here we can give only the most meagre outline of the facts: For the preceding half-century Our Lord’s sacred divinity in relation to His humanity had been warmly discussed. There arose in quick succession two heresies which were sharply opposed to each other. First, Nestorius (427) asserted that as, according to Catholic teaching, there were two natures in Christ-the human and the divine-there were also two persons-the one the Son of God, the other the son of man. He held that Christ Our Lord first existed as man and was, later, united to God by a union of affection and dignity; God dwelt in Him as in any other saint, but in a more perfect way, so that there was a complete harmony between the actions of this man and the Will of God. This could be expressed by saying that there was a unity of operation. This phrase, “unity of operation,” we must carefully bear in mind, as it played a conspicuous part in the controversy that followed.

This heresy was condemned by the General Council of Ephesus (431) and the unity of Christ’s person was affirmed in the clearest terms. About the year 441 Eutyches, a monk of Constantinople, while vigorously opposing the heresy of Nestorius, erred in the opposite extreme. He pressed for a union which made the two natures of Christ fuse into one, whereas he should have maintained, as was later defined by the Council of Chalcedon (451), that the two natures remained distinct. Thinkers now began to ask whether these two natures each retained its power of acting, and in particular whether Christ Our Lord had two distinct wills. They were faced by the fact that He could not sin, and they sought to explain it. Some said that Our Lord had no human will; others that He had such a faculty, but that its functions were held in suspense and that only the divine will acted in Him. The theory of both could be covered by the formula that in Christ there was only “one operation.” We see at once the ambiguity of this phrase; it may have three distinct meanings: (a) Christ had only one will, the divine; and therefore only one principle of volition. This is heresy. (b) In Our Lord only one of His wills acted, viz., the divine. That is also incorrect. (c) The human will acted in complete harmony with the divine-a perfectly orthodox assertion.

Now, at this time great efforts were being made to win back to orthodoxy the heretical sect which claimed that Our Lord had only one will. In the course of this attempt the expression “one operation” was used by certain theologians at Constantinople. Some thought the formula quite orthodox, and had hopes that the heretics would admit it, and so be reconciled with the Church. Sergius, the Patriarch of Constantinople was of this opinion. Others were suspicious of this use of words, and felt that a false construction could easily be put upon them. In point of fact, heretics of Alexandria, putting their own interpretation upon this phrase, agreed to the formula, and were re-admitted to the Church by Cyrus, Patriarch of that city. Disputes broke out afresh, and it seemed that the recent reconciliation of the heretics would be undone if there were more discussion upon the fittingness of the term “one operation.” Accordingly, instructions were issued by the local authorities forbidding either one or two operations to be spoken of. It was thought wiser to squash the controversy and wait for a more fitting time to decide the question.

Sergius of Constantinople now writes to Pope Honorius. The Patriarch relates how the heretics have accepted the formula “one operation”; how he himself is chary of the expression, because of its novelty, and had accordingly issued instructions to permit of no discussion upon the use of the term; he is much in doubt, and wants the Pope to clear up matters for him. (Whether or not Sergius was in good faith does not concern us here). The answer sent by Honorius are the famous letters upon which the opponents of papal infallibility lay such stress.

Two answers, or, rather, copies of them, are extant. Their main points are as follows: (i.) Sergius is quite right in closing the controversy by forbidding further discussion upon the appropriateness of the expressions “one operation” or “two operations.” (ii.) It is “quite silly” to quarrel over the question as to which of these formulae is the more correct; for in Christ Our Lord there are many operations; does not St. Paul tell us, “There are diversities of operations of the Spirit, but the same God who worketh all in all”? (1 Cor. xii. 6). Should we not, then, say that all these operations-prophecy, the gift of healing, the word of wisdom, etc.-are found in Christ, rather than limit them to one or two? (iii.). Let Sergius maintain that in Our Lord there are two natures, each complete and distinct, but that there is only one person who operates by means of them. This manner of expressing the truth is safe, and cannot be suspected of favouring either Nestorianism or Eutychianism. (iv.) “I myself profess there is one will in Our Lord Jesus Christ.” Thus states Honorius in one place. He would have been more careful in his choice of words had he foreseen how often this phrase was to have been cited against him in after times. But, as we shall see, the accusation made against him because of this sentence, is an unfair one.

The upshot of this answer caused trouble. Sergius drew up an exposition of doctrine which was later claimed to be based on the teaching of Honorius. This exposition, or “ecthesis,” as it was called, was published in the Emperor’s name: all his subjects are to confess there is one will in Our Lord, but are not to state whether there are one or two operations.

THE FIRST PHASE OF THE OBJECTION. -It is urged hat Honorius both held and taught heretical views; for he believed there is only one will in Our Lord-a doctrine which, later, was explicitly condemned by the Church; his words are cited as being clear and unambiguous: “I profess there is one will in Our Lord Jesus Christ.”

We reply that the context in which this sentence is found makes it practically beyond all doubt that Honorius was quite orthodox. For what did he mean by “one will”? Did he mean to exclude either the human or the divine will? No. He asserts that Christ had not what we call “the lower will of man,” or what St. Paul calls “the law of the members,” i.e., the ungoverned clamouring of the sensitive part of our nature for satisfaction. Honorius is showing how in Our Lord the impossibility of sinning and the possession of a perfect will are quite compatible-for there is only one, i.e., only one human will in Christ (whether his argument is convincing or not does not concern us here).

Others defend Honorius on different lines, e.g., they note that we have not got his original letter: that it was never produced: that the objectionable clause we have cited shows signs of having been interpolated. Be this as it may. We prefer to say that an unbiassed and careful examination of the letters, as they have come down to us, prevents us from asserting that Honorius ever stated that either the human or the divine will was not found in Christ. The sentence, “I profess one will in Our Lord Jesus Christ,” must be read in its context-and in its context it bears quite an orthodox meaning.

THE OBJECTION PRESSED FURTHER. -If all this is so clear, how came it about that the Sixth General Council and Pope Leo condemned Honorius? Had not these a better chance of judging him than we have, some thirteen centuries after the event? We answer the question by inquiring, “On what charges was Honorius condemned?” And we answer, “On the following: He concurred efficaciously in the spread of heresy, for he failed to oppose it with the truth: he expressly permitted the use of an ambiguous formula which the heretics employed in an incorrect sense: he asserted that the discussion on the relative propriety of the expression ‘one operation’ or ‘two operations,’ was futile and childish.” None of these various condemnatory sentences can be shown to mean that he was thought to have held one will or the “one operation” in the heretical sense. Hence his condemnation does not prove anything against the infallibility of the Pope.

We establish this position by citing briefly the words used by those who condemned him. (i.) After listening to the reading of several letters of Sergius and two of Honorius, the Council states: “We have found that these letters concur in one and the same impiety”; it then orders the writings to be burnt because they “are profane and dangerous.” No mention is made of Honorius’s doctrines; he is guilty of “concurring” in heresy, and we have seen how he did this. (ii.) The Council mentions Honorius as being one of those whom the devil uses, “finding them suitable instruments for carrying out his wishes.” Honorius is not a heretic; he is a useful, though unwitting, instrument. (iii.) To Pope Agatho the Emperor gives an account of the proceedings of the Council. He includes Honorius in a list of heretics who are condemned, put him in a class apart, as “the man who confirmed this heresy”-not, it must be noted, as a man who held heretical views. (iv.) Pope Leo, after the death of Agatho, writes to the Emperor and confirms the acts of the Council. He, too, condemns Honorius, but for a special reason, viz., “Because he did not attempt to sanctify this Apostolic Church by the teaching of the Apostolic tradition; but with base teaching permitted the unspotted faith to receive a blemish.” Thus Leo deliberately omits to approve of the Council having put Honorius’s name in the middle of a list of heretics, as though he was guilty in the same way in which they were. (v.) The same Pope Leo relates to the Bishops of Spain the decisions of this Sixth General Council, and again gives a list of those there anathematized as heretics; he includes Honorius, but states the ground of his condemnation, viz., “He did not extinguish, as the Apostolic authority should have done, the incipient flame of heretical doctrine, but nourished it by his negligence.” Thus, even supposing these two letters cited in (iv.) and (v.) are genuine-which is by no means certain-they do not prove that Pope Leo condemned Honorius for holding or teaching heresy.

BISHOP GORE URGES THE OBJECTION FROM ANOTHER STANDPOINT. -It is further objected that the Fathers of the General Council had no notion of papal infallibility; else how could they have branded a Pope as a heretic on the ground that he had taught false doctrine? Our answer is brief. It is already contained in what has been said before, viz., Honorius was not condemned for holding unorthodox views, but for failing in his duty to crush heresy, and for being, in consequence, largely responsible for the disasters that followed.*

THE OBJECTION ANSWERED ON ALL POINTS. -Now, let us give what is a final answer. Let us suppose which we do not for a moment grant-that it is proved to the hilt that Honorius really was a heretic, and, moreover, taught heresy. Would it follow that those who condemned him thereby avowed their disbelief in papal infallibility?

*We might add here, in mitigation of his offence, that he does not seem to have been clear on what the heretics meant by the phrase “one operation.” They used the formula to signify that in Christ there was only one active faculty of volition-either because there was only one will, or because one or other of Christ’s two wills did not function. Honorius took “one operation” to mean one kind of effect produced, and was consequently at a loss to see why men should quarrel over the limitation to be made in these kinds of effects. He accordingly dismissed the controversy as being merely a verbal discussion which should be “decided by grammarians.”

No, not unless Honorius as making an ex cathedra statement, and there is not the slightest ground for believing that he made such a pronouncement. For (i.), In no less than four places in his letters he rejects all idea of defining doctrine in favour of one side or the other: (a) “We must not wrest what they say into Church dogmas”; (b) “We must not define either one or two operations”; (c) “We leave the matter to grammarians”; (d) “We must not, defining, pronounce one or two operations.” (ii.) Secondly, he imposed no obligations upon the faithful to hold any of the doctrinal opinions expressed in his letter: the customary grave penalties for refusing to assent to the doctrine taught, receive no mention: he makes no reference to the use of Petrine authority nor to the traditional teaching of the Church. In other words, Honorius did not claim to be speaking with the mouth of Peter nor to be exercising that Apostle’s privilege of infallibility. Therefore, in face of all this it cannot be asserted that an ex cathedra statement was made, or that that Council thought that such a definition had been pronounced. Bishop Gore’s objection accordingly loses its force.

THE CASE OF HONORIUS IS ALL IN OUR FAVOUR. -But now that our adversaries have cited this condemnation pronounced by the Sixth General Council upon Honorius, they should themselves bear the consequences of their appeal to history. For the proceedings of this very Council furnish a flat denial to the statement that the doctrine of papal infallibility was unknown in the early Church. The reigning Pope, St. Agatho, wrote, through the Emperor, to the Fathers assembled in Council. And we stress very strongly the tone and contents of this letter, and still more the manner in which the instructions were received. The salient features of this long epistle are as follows: St. Agatho begins by making it clear beyond all doubt that he is about to state no mere personal opinion, but is declaring the faith of the Church. In this the nature of his letter differs toto coelo from that of Honorius’s letter to Sergius. Next he asserts that no successor of St. Peter had defiled the Petrine tradition by teaching error to the Church of God. Lastly, he imposes upon the Council the obligation of receiving the doctrine of two wills and two operations, as expounded by himself; the assembled Bishops were to accept his ruling at their peril. They had not, in this instance, the office of defining faith, but the duty of accepting it from the Pope, and of publishing it abroad to the world. They might, indeed, examine his arguments-as they did-and verify his citations from the Fathers; but they might not dissent from his final and authoritative decision upon a question which had so long vexed men’s minds.

Now what would be the answer of such a Council if it had not -as Bishop Gore asserts it had not-even a rudimentary idea of the doctrine of papal infallibility? Would it tamely and without protest admit the Pope’s right to dictate to a General Council of Bishops? If it disbelieved the right of Rome thus to take precedence of the See of Constantinople, would it not be at pains to reject this claim, even though it fully agreed with the doctrinal teaching concerning two wills and two operations in Christ Our Lord? But the Council made no such protest. It accepted not only the doctrine proposed to it, but also the principle so explicitly stated in the letter of Pope Agatho. For the Fathers address the Pope as one “standing upon the firm rock of the faith”; they “freely admit his true doctrine” expressed in his letter, and profess that it is “divinely prescribed by the supreme Head of the Apostles”; they relate that they have refuted the heretics by means of his teaching; and finally they ask him to confirm the acts of the Council because they have carried out his instructions and “have not changed a particle of the traditional teaching” he had expounded to them. Thus we have a full and whole-hearted acceptance of Agatho’s letter, and, therefore, a clear proof that the assembled Bishops acknowledged both that the Pope’s infallibility was independent of a General Council, and further that he had the right to dictate to a Council what doctrine it should define. Thus the history of the condemnation of Pope Honorius, far from showing that early Councils knew nothing of papal infallibility, really gives striking evidence to the contrary.

B. -GALILEO

Galileo Galilei has been disinterred, times without number, by the opponents of papal infallibility, and made to pronounce judgment against all such pretended claims. He has been portrayed as a martyr championing the cause of science against the Vatican obscurantists, as one tortured by the Inquisition, cast out of the Church’s pale, and refused Christian burial. For these and other mythical reasons we Catholics are expected to feel nervously uneasy when the name of Galileo is mentioned-much as though a skeleton was in danger of being dragged from the cupboard to cast a shadow upon our good name. Of these various accusations we are here concerned only with one, viz., that the sentence passed against Galileo and against the orthodoxy of his opinions is a glaring instance of science having proved that the infallible guide blundered.

THE STORY OF THE CASE. -The answer to this well-worn fable will become apparent from a brief statement of what occurred. Galileo lived from 1564 to 1642. In many branches of science he was justly famous, but here we are interested only in his then novel theory that the earth moved round the sun. This theory was first mooted by Copernicus, and found additional arguments in its favour from the discoveries which Galileo made with his telescope. (*It is undeniable that the arguments of Galileo for the heliocentric system were not by any means conclusive. He had not found evidence for what was later found to be true. Even Huxley who examined the case, states that the opponents of Galileo “had rather the best of it.” The medieval astronomer had merely put forward an hypothesis that squared very satisfactorily with the facts.)

In spite of all deficiency in his arguments Galileo asserted as indisputable the truth of his opinion. He wielded an able pen; and, as we shall see, this partly accounts for the treatment he received.

For four years he had been proclaiming his theory, convincing some, and finding others who detected the weak points in his argument. In 1615 the ecclesiastical authorities took alarm. Up to that time the letter of Holy Scripture was taken to express the final judgment in all matters, scientific and religious. On this principle it seemed that Scripture clearly taught the opposite of Galileo’s theory-for Scripture spoke of the sun staying its course at the prayer of Josue, and of the earth as being for ever immovable. How then, it was asked, could Galileo, in the face of this, assert that the earth went round the sun?

Hearing that he was in disfavour, Galileo, in 1615, presented himself at Rome, and was courteously received. But meantime the official machinery was set to work. The experts, or “qualifiers,” of the Inquisition were called upon to give their opinion on two propositions taught by Galileo: first, that the sun is the centre of the world and does not move from its place; and, secondly, that the earth is not the centre of the world and has a diurnal motion. The Qualifiers reported that the first statement was outright heresy, because in open contradiction to the explicit teaching of Scripture; and that the second statement was, at least, theologically, incorrect. Cardinal Bellarmine was instructed to inform Galileo of this decision, and to tell him that he must renounce these opinions and promise not to advocate them either by word or by writing. This Galileo promised to do, and so avoided further trouble.

This report of the experts of the Inquisition inspired a decree of the Congregation of the Index, which forbade the publication of works advocating the Copernican system, and which gave as its reason that it was open to heresy to declare that the sun did not move through the heavens.* On this point it is to be noted that Cardinal Bellarmine, the most influential member of the Sacred College, writes to one of Galileo’s ardent supporters:-”I say that if a real proof be found that the sun is fixed and does not revolve round the earth, but the earth round the sun, then it will be necessary, very cautiously, to proceed to the explanation of the passages in Scripture which appear to be contrary, and we should rather say that we have misunderstood these than pronounce that to be false which is demonstrated.” This admission is important in the light of after events.

Galileo paid no attention to his promise made to the Inquisition, and again loudly and constantly proclaimed his system true beyond all doubt. In 1624 he visited Rome again and was treated with lavish hospitality by the Pope; but he failed to secure the withdrawal of the decree against his works. In 1632 he employed a method of defence which was of rather questionable morality. He submitted to the Church authorities a work in which his view was treated all through as an hypothesis. The book was a dialogue between a Ptolemaist and two Copernicans, in which the Ptolemaist was completely routed. The censors gave leave for the work to be published. Having obtained this permission, Galileo now changed the setting of the work by advancing his view not as a theory but as a fact, and made the routed Ptolemaist closely resemble the reigning Pope, Urban VIII. This was published in 1632, and was

*We may note in passing that this decree seems to have been a clumsy compromise between the more conservative theologians and those who saw that perhaps it was not necessary to hold that every expression in Scripture was scientifically exact; for the decree allowed the Copernican system to be held as an hypothetical explanation of the movements of the heavens, provided this was not stated as a fact. Clearly, if the doctrine embodied formal heresy, no Church authority could tolerate its discussion, even as an hypothesis. rightly regarded by the officials at Rome as a direct challenge. Being cited before the Inquisition, he protested that since his former condemnation he had never held the views of Copernicus. This insincere declaration did not save him; he was condemned, as suspected of heresy, to incarceration at the pleasure of the tribunal, and to recite the seven penitential psalms once a week for three years.

The story of his torture and severe imprisonment is fiction. In no true sense was he a prisoner. His Protestant biographer, von Gebler, tells us “he spent altogether twenty two days in the buildings of the Holy Office, and even then not in a prison cell with barred windows, but in the handsome and commodious apartment of an official of the Inquisition.” He was then allowed to live with his friends, first at Rome, and later at Florence, in a delightful place amongst the suburbs. When he was dying he received a special blessing sent him by the Pope, and, so far from being refused Christian burial, he was interred in the church of Santa Croce at Florence.

THE OBJECTION RAISED. -Our adversaries take their stand upon the decree which was published by the Congregation of the Index when it first condemned Galileo’s theory. They assert that the question was one of faith, for a doctrine is condemned as heretical; and, moreover, that the Pope had full knowledge of the doings of the Congregation and sanctioned all its proceedings. Hence they conclude that there is here another instance of the infallible guide blundering, and this time being corrected by science.

COMMENT ON THE CASE. -We frankly admit that this decision against Galileo was most unfortunate, in that it asserted, an opinion to be heretical which was later allowed to be orthodox; its finding was reversed when, years later, a proof for the heliocentric system was submitted which was as cogent as Galileo’s was defective. The principle of biblical interpretation, upon which the decision was based, was a false one, although it was current at that time. It was thought, for instance, that Scripture must always speak in scientific terminology and with scientific accuracy, even when using the language which men ordinarily employ when conveying their ideas to one another; thus when it spoke of the sun rising or going to rest, it meant that the sun went through the two operations of rising and sinking. Whereas we now admit that the Scriptures, when describing what appears to our senses, may and do use the ordinary terms which we employ. For the sake of accuracy the Scripture is not obliged-any more than was Newton-to avoid using the expression “the sun rose,” or “the sun was stayed in its course through the heavens.”

THE OBJECTION ANSWERED. -Did the Pope err as an infallible teacher? Surely not, if he did not assume the role of such a teacher. It is simply misrepresenting history to say that anyone, even the Pope himself, thought an ex cathedra statement had been made. As a matter of fact, the Pope’s signature is not appended to any of the documents connected with Galileo’s condemnation, and even if the signature were appended, it would merely be a guarantee of the authenticity of the document-unless clear indication were given that much more was intended. And, further, though the Pope was present at some of the deliberations of the Cardinals, and was aware of what steps were being taken, that fact alone does not constitute the decisions arrived at infallible pronouncements. The same answer applies to the objection that a Papal Bull was issued accompanying a later edition of the list of books proscribed by the Index, amongst which books were included any that advocated the Copernican system. Such a Bull merely gives the list a guarantee that it is official.

CONFIRMATORY EVIDENCE FROM PROTESTANT WRITERS.-Fair-minded Protestant writers are as explicit on these points as any Catholic could be. Thus, for example, the astronomer Proctor writes: “The Catholic doctrine (of papal infallibility) is perfectly definite; and it is absolutely certain that the decision in regard to Galileo’s teaching, shown now to have been unsound, does not in the slightest degree affect the doctrine of infallibility as defined by the Vatican Council” (Knowledge, vol. ix, p. 274). And again, another Protestant, Karl von Gebler, in his work, Galileo and the Roman Curia, writes to the same effect: “We grant that the two Congregations of the Index and the Inquisition, with the two Popes who sanctioned and promulgated their decrees, were in error; but not one ever held that the decisions of the Roman Congregations were in themselves infallible, even when approved by the Pope, unless specially set forth by the Pope with all the conditions required for an ex cathedra definition.”

We note further that the action of Cardinal Bellarmine clearly shows that the answer of the Congregation was not intended to be final; for he admits that if science can show which at that time it could not do-that the earth moves round the sun, the principle then in use for interpreting Scripture will have to be carefully readjusted.

THE FATE OF KEPLER. -In conclusion, when we are taunted with the condemnation of Galileo, we may reply with a tu quoque argument. For Protestants as well as Catholics, held to the views of Galileo’s judges; e.g., Luther called Copernicus a fool, for turning astronomy upside down, and Melanchton and practically all Protestant professors strongly condemned the system as contrary to the teaching of the Bible. And more remarkable still, just thirty-seven years before Galileo got into trouble, the Protestant Theological Faculty of Tubingen condemned Kepler for teaching the identical scientific truth which Galileo favoured. The divines unanimously decided that Kepler’s book, Prodromos Disserationum Cosmographicarum, contained a deadly heresy, because it contradicted the teaching of the Bible in that passage where Josue commands the sun to stand still. Now, these divines held the doctrine of “private interpretation of Scripture”; are they not then in difficulties, when science has proved that on one occasion this interpretation was erroneous-and if on one occasion, why not on others? The condemnation of Kepler by the Protestants tells far more against them than does the condemnation of Galileo against us; for in the one case, science gives the lie direct to a fundamental principle of a whole religious system-the principle of private interpretation; while in the other case a defined dogma, that of papal infallibility, as in no way affected.

THE OBJECTION PRESSED FURTHER. -It is urged that the case of Galileo at least shows that the Church was itself mistaken in matters of faith; for it held a wrong canon of biblical criticism, viz., that the expressions in Scripture which describe physical phenomena are always scientifically exact. We answer that the Church never even considered this question-much less did she believe with the assurance of faith that this principle was correct; it was merely admitted by the majority of the theologians as a commonly accepted rule, and as yet no convincing reasons had been adduced for rejecting it. No one ever asserted that it was a doctrine of faith; as we have twice remarked, Bellarmine was prepared to give it up; and, moreover, other orthodox theologians explicitly rejected it, maintaining, in defence of Galileo, that “the Bible taught us how to go to heaven, not how the heavens go.”

PART IV

Obviously we cannot here catalogue and answer every objection made against our position. From what has been already stated, we summarise the chief points which must be borne in mind when we are examining the assertions of adversaries:

(i.) A definition is ex cathedra, or infallible, when it is a decision regarding faith or morals: when it is solemnly propagated by the Pope acting as teaching head of the Church when it is intended to bind the whole Church to acceptance, in such way that this acceptance is a condition of membership. Such decrees are irrevocable and irreformable.

(ii.) Infallibility and inspiration are quite distinct. A safeguard against error is not an inspiration of truth. Hence, it is utterly false to say that “the doctrine of papal infallibility gives us a perpetual organ for making new revelation.”

(iii.) Though a new dogma, e.g., that of the Immaculate Conception, is not a new revelation, yet such a dogma of the faith need not always have been present in the consciousness and explicit teaching of the Church. “He will bring all things to your minds, whatsoever I shall have said to you”-which implies that the whole of Christ’s teaching had not always to be before the minds of those who teach.

(iv.) Infallibility does not imply that we may not examine and discuss and verify ex cathedra pronouncements. It is a common taunt that Catholics must stifle all intellectual life if they must accept undoubtingly every such decree as final and irrevocable. The thousands of volumes written by Catholic theologians is surely sufficient answer to the charge of intellectual suicide. We do not doubt Euclid’s first principles, but we may build a system upon them.

(v.) Violent disputes have arisen within the Church, and have not been settled by an infallible pronouncement. This does not prove, as is at times contended, that the Church was unconscious that it possessed the power to frame such an answer. We surely hold God to be infallible; but if we judged Him by the principle underlying this objection, we should assert that He was unconscious of His own infallibility.

(vi.) We have evidence more than sufficient to show that the doctrine of papal infallibility was not invented by Rome. In the early part of this pamphlet we have cited cases where Eastern Councils have accepted, without a dissenting voice, the position of the Roman Pontiff, when he commanded them to accept his doctrine as being the authentic teaching of the Church. In our examination of the case of Pope Honorius, we found that the tables were turned upon our adversaries.

(vii.) When facts of early Church history are cited against us, they need to be carefully sifted. For the difficulty is generally due to the case being inaccurately stated. This refers in particular to the charge brought against the Popes Liberius and Vigilius, which we have not space to discuss here.

Nihil obstat:

MICHAEL CANONICUS CRONIN. S.T.D., Censor TheoI. Deput.

Imprimi Potest:

@ EDUARDUS,

Dublini, die 2° Martii, anno 1928. Archiep. Dublinen.

Hiberniae Primas.

********

It All Began In Ireland

FORMER ANGLICAN CLERGYMAN’S STORY

BY W. REGINALD TAYLOR

INDEX

I first saw the light of day on St. Peter’s Day, 1889, at Newcastle on Tyne, England. I first saw the light of truth in October, 1947, in Ireland. My early years were spent in the North of England, in the county of York. Of Methodist parentage, I have vivid memories of the large Sunday School under my father’s superintendency, and of accompanying him on his preaching excursions.

After education at Leeds and Harrogate, I served for over three years with a firm of Civil Engineers. All through boyhood days I had the urge to preach, and in my teens, as a lay preacher, I travelled many miles in the West Riding of Yorkshire, taking services in various chapels. It was only natural, therefore, that one day I should seek admission into the Wesleyan ministry.

Exams were duly passed, and after training at Didsbury College, Manchester, I was sent out to circuit work at the end of 1914. Ordination followed, strangely enough, at Newcastle on Tyne. My work was mostly in country districts, in different parts of England. During the first World War, in addition to ministerial duties, I was called upon to do agricultural work in the South of England.

The additional strain, for several months, affected my heart, and after a time I was obliged to take a year’s rest. During that time, I began to think out seriously my position. Somehow, I felt that Methodism did not satisfy me in many ways. My College Principal was one of the leading Modernists, and the movement was causing alarm throughout the Church. Little emphasis was placed on the Sacraments, and Holy Communion was infrequent. Some of the great Festivals of the Church passed almost unnoticed, and the great saints were seldom mentioned. The circuit system of Methodism allowed little concentration; and I failed to see the need for so many chapels, of different denominations all over the country.

Before returning to work after my year’s rest, a friend suggested a visit to the famous Buckfast (Benedictine) Abbey, in South Devon. There for a week I found a welcome, hospitality, and peace of soul. It was a wonderful experience to share in the worship of the community in the glorious Abbey Church, and to join with them at meals in the Refectory, seated next to the Lord Abbot, the late Dom Anscar Vonier. Each night, after a stroll with the Guest Master, I retired to the quiet of my cell. As I left the Abbey, however, I felt that the time had not yet come for a change.

It seemed that the Church of England might satisfy all my desires, and so I began to explore its possibilities. She was the National Church; her great historic Cathedrals and Churches (formerly belonging to the Catholic Church, until the socalled Reformation), made a strong appeal to me. I loved her beautiful and ordered services: I believed that her orders were valid, and that she was part of the one, true Catholic Church. Moreover, her comprehensiveness (as I found later, too much so), including Evangelical, Liberal, Central and Anglo-Catholic, made me feel that here I could find a true spiritual home where I might render better service to God.

At the end of 1925, I resigned my position as a Wesleyan Minister in Cornwall, and was received into the Church of England and confirmed by the then Bishop of Winchester (Dr. Woods) in his chapel at Farnham Castle. A year later, he ordained me deacon in the glorious Cathedral at Winchester, and priest the following year.

For ten years I enjoyed a happy ministry in the great centres of Portsmouth, Bournemouth and East London, with three years as Vicar of a country parish in the Midlands. After the first World War, I had the privilege of visiting, on holiday tours, the Passion Play of Oberammergau, the Holy Land and Lourdes. How much more would those visits have meant to me if I had been a Catholic. My one regret was that I was unable to visit Rome.

In 1936 there came an unexpected call to go out as a missionary, first to Southern Rhodesia, and then to South Africa. For ten years I travelled those vast distances, and came in touch with people of all types-white, coloured, Native and Indian. The work was hard and exacting, but full of interest. The biggest obstacles the missionary had to face were the colour question, and the multiplicity of religious sects, which bewildered the native. Everywhere in South Africa I found generous support, hospitality, and kindness.

At the end of 1946 I returned to England, to face the worst winter for forty years. Severe rationing was in force, and conditions were most difficult. After a short period as locum at a High Church in Plymouth, I left in the spring, for a visit to my friends and relations. The autumn of 1947 found me in Western Wales. Here a doctor recommended me to spend the winter in Ireland, with its milder climate and better conditions. Crossing over from Fishguard, I landed at Cork, and was soon riding from the Quay in a jaunting car, seeking accommodation. (This was my second visit to Ireland. In the summer of 1926 I had visited Dublin, Belfast and Northern Ireland. )

A comfortable home was soon found in a Catholic Guest House, where I received a warm welcome. For eight months I acted as locum in the Protestant. Church of Ireland, serving in the diocese of Cork. Everywhere I received kindness and friendship from Protestant and Catholic alike.

Soon after my arrival in Cork, my landlady suggested a visit to the celebrated Cistercian Monastery of Mount Melleray, sixty miles away, on a mountainside near Cappoquin in Co. Waterford. Here, I spent a memorable four days, and was tremendously impressed with all that I saw and heard. The peace and quietude, the busy life of the monks in church and school, in the monastery, and on the farm-a life of austerity, and labour. Yet, through it all, the monks looked happy and contented, for they had found a peace which the world could neither give nor take away. But, above all, the High Mass, and, particularly, their singing at Compline of the Salve Regina (Hail, Holy Queen) described by H. V. Morton as the “most beautiful of Catholic prayers,” thrilled me, and made me think seriously. Could it be possible that the Light of Truth was at last dawning in my rest-less soul? Perhaps the Queen of Heaven was to help in the ordering of my future. (This story will show that this was to be so.)

I returned to Cork to continue my clerical work, but with a determination to find out all I could about the Catholic Church. In my search for the truth, I was recommended to visit the Dominican Priory at Pope’s Quay. At the close of an interview with the Prior, his parting words were: “You must say a prayer to our Lady every day, and then make a great act of Faith.” The first, however imperfectly, was carried out daily, but alas, it was to take more than six years before the second was fulfilled.

Later, I visited the Capuchins at Holy Trinity, and was recommended to study the Penny Catechism, which I did very thoroughly.

During a week’s Mission to the men of Cork, I attended a service at Holy Trinity and could hardly obtain a seat, because it was so crowded. In that week, hardly a man was to be seen on the streets of the city while the Mission was on. One Sunday afternoon found me at a crowded service in St. Mary’s (Dominican) Church. It was a public Novena in honour of Our Lady of Lourdes. Remembering my brief visit to Lourdes, this interested me greatly. The preacher seemed to have a special message for me when he said: “All our prayers to Our Lady are answered, if not in our way, then in God’s way.” How often since then have I found that very true. Benediction completed a service which brought real peace to my soul.

It was good, too, to be in Ireland on St. Patrick’s Day. Everyone I met in the streets of Cork seemed to be wearing the dear little shamrock. Though still a Protestant, I found my way to Mass at the Church of St. Vincent de Paul, and offered there my prayers for Ireland, and especially for her unity, that one day Partition might be removed.

Another happy memory is the Feast of Corpus Christi, when thousands gathered in the main streets that Sunday afternoon, kneeling on the pavements, as the Sacred Host was carried in procession by the aged Bishop of Cork, His Lordship Bishop Coholan.

Later on, I visited Kerry, lovely Killarney, Tipperary, Cashel, Limerick, Clare, and Galway; and on through wild and beautiful Connemara. Never shall I forget the magnificent sunset behind the Twelve Pins as we motored to Clifden. It seemed almost as if Heaven itself were opening her gates to let us in.

And everywhere I went, it was the same story. Packed churches at Sunday Mass. Men, women, and children visiting the churches each day for prayer. As they passed the churches, men doffed their hats, and women crossed themselves, and the same thing happened when a funeral passed, with the addition of a prayer for the departed. When The Angelus bell rang, everybody paused to offer the salutation to Mary.

Everywhere too, I met with courtesy, kindness, and generous hospitality. As I saw these things, one thought predominated; these folk have something I have not got. What sustained them during these long years of persecution, when everyone’s hand seemed to be against them, when the priests said Mass at the risk of their lives, and their scattered congregations gathered at some lonely place among the rocks and mountains, and again during the years of cruel famine; and, later, through wars and revolutions. What has caused thousands of them to leave country, home, and friends, in the spirit of the great St. Patrick and go forth to other countries throughout the world as Missionaries (priests, monks, brothers, and nuns), so that Ireland is known today as the great Missionary country of the world? Surely only one thing is the answer. The Catholic Faith in all its fulness. These good people possess what this age lacks and needs, and as I met them, and looked at them, I felt very humbled and touched, glad that such a faith is still to be found in our sad and disillusioned world of today.

Another thing I noticed was the evidence, everywhere, of Ireland’s great love for Our Lady. It seemed as if during the next few years she would not let me as a Protestant forget her. As I walked those country lanes and roads of Ireland, someone seemed to say to me, “You will have to be a Catholic.” And so I began to read all that I could lay my hands on about the Catholic Church. Books that helped me most of all at this time, and also later on in my search for the truth, were Dr. Rumble’s Radio Replies, and the many booklets of the . . . , especially one entitled Pass It On. (I can never be too thankful for the help I received from these.) Others were the Lives of the saintly Cure D “Ars, St. Vincent de Paul, St. Francis of Assisi, Cardinal Newman, Pope Pius X, Cardinal Manning and the many Saints of Ireland. Conversion stories, as told in The Road to Damascus, those by Chesterton, Ronald Knox, E. F. Benson, Evelyn Waugh, J. L. Stoddard, F. W. Faber, Dr. Orchard, Douglas Hyde, Sheila Kaye-Smith and many more, too numerous to mention. Newman’s Apologia was studied, and the history of the Catholic Church. I was confronted with the fact that many converts have been so distinguished- great authors (men and women), eminent scientists, and men of letters. Barristers, ecclesiastics, many of the Jewish faith, statesmen, professors, businessmen; their name is legion. This caused me seriously to think: “There must be something in the Catholic religion to attract so many of different creeds, races and beliefs, wherein all may find a spiritual home at last.”

And now came the time for my departure to the West Indies, where I was expecting clerical work in the Bahamas. As the great liner left Cobh on that lovely June morning, bearing with her eighty Irish emigrants (including many nuns) I remained on deck, watching until the last bit of Ireland faded from view. Then, I turned away, with moistened eyes, for I was leaving behind me the land of my spiritual birth, where I had first seen the light of truth. In my cabin, I found that Our Lady surely had sent me as my companions, two good Irish Catholics, who said the Rosary together every day.

The first weekend was spent in New York. This was my second visit, and again I struck a heat wave. On the Sunday I was able to visit the glorious St. Patrick’s Cathedral and say a prayer for my spiritual welfare. On the Monday, we left for the Bahamas via Bermuda. Again, Our Lady took charge of me, and provided me on the ship with an excellent table companion, a Paulist Father (chaplain to the Catholic holidaymakers on board). To him I unburdened my soul, and found him most helpful. On arrival at Nassau (Bahamas) I heard that I had not been expected, and that the work I was hoping to do would be quite beyond my capacity, so that I was literally stranded in a strange but beautiful Island. Within two or three hours,Our Lady sent the Paulist Father to my hotel, with a message from the Prior of St. Augustine’s Benedictine Monastery that I was welcome to stay with them as long as I liked.

I remained on the island for three weeks, enjoying the kindness and hospitality of my new friends. At the end of that time, I heard of a steamer leaving for Jamaica, and as I had set my heart on work in the West Indies, felt a call to an Island which I knew was in desperate need of clergy. On arrival at Kingston (Jamaica’s capital) I was told that there were twenty-two Church of England parishes without a clergyman, so I found work at once. For over eighteen months I served as locum in a large city parish, then in the country, and for six months in a teeming slum parish, which was unable to pay me any return for my services. The conditions there were indescribable, with over-population, dire poverty, and as a result, much crime. The real Jamaican loves his Church and we had great crowds at most of our services. Unfortunately, the multiplicity of so many sects is very bewildering to the Jamaican. I received, during my stay in Jamaica, friendship, kindness, and sympathy from the Jesuit Fathers who are doing very fine work under such difficult conditions. Owing to the extreme heat, and a heart condition, I was ordered by the doctor to return to England as soon as possible.

On my return home, I worked for a time in a parish in Norfolk, eight miles from the Shrine of Our Lady of Walsingham. (Our Lady was determined that I should not forget her.) Then I decided to come to Australia.

In October, 1950, I landed in Australia (the land dedicated to Mary, Help of Christians). On the way out, I mingled on board with many Catholics returning from the Holy Year Pilgrimage to Rome. It was most inspiring to meet them and to hear of their wonderful experiences. Four months were spent in Perth. Here, and elsewhere throughout Australia, I rendered, as needed, regular service to my Church, as I moved from place to place.

One night in Fremantle I joined a large crowd entering the Catholic Church of the Oblate Fathers. It was the occasion of the visit of the statue of Our Lady of Fatima. It was a most impressive service, and a passionate appeal was made by the preacher, as he repeated the words of Our Lordto St. Peter, the first Pope: “Thou are Peter, and upon this Rock I will build my Church and the gates of Hell shall not prevail against it.” It seemed a message for me. Here, I thought, is the Church founded by Our Lord, which I must soon enter.

From Perth, a long train journey of nearly three days brought me to Adelaide. A few months later I moved on to Melbourne. In Melbourne I was often found in St. Francis” Church, under the care of the Blessed Sacrament Fathers. Crowds thronged the sacred edifice day and night, to worship Our Lord on the Altar. To me it was an amazing scene, and made a great impression. From Melbourne I sailed to Tasmania. Whilst there, I was fortunate to attend a Mission in the Catholic church at Launceston. The church, as usual, was crowded, and on the Sunday morning the preacher’s theme was “Peace of Soul,” which I sorely needed. During that weekend I often heard the Mission Hymn: “Mother of Christ, Star of the Sea, Pray for the wanderer, Pray for me.” It moved me deeply, for I was still the wanderer, and I prayed in the words of Newman’s hymn:

Lead kindly Light,

Amid the encircling gloom,

Lead Thou me on.

The night is dark, and I am far from home

Lead Thou me on.

Like Newman, when he wrote the hymn, I too, was feeling my way to my home, the Catholic Church, and the Mission at Launceston, together with the kindness of the Dean, greatly helped me on my way.

Returning to Melbourne, I went on to Sydney. Whilst there I was helping for some time at the famous Anglo-Catholic Centre ofChrist Church St. Lawrence. Near by was the Blessed Sacrament Fathers” new Church at Hay-market. Whenever I went there, I felt at once very much at home.

Then on to Queensland, for the benefit of the gentler winter in Brisbane. There I acted for a time as Anglican chaplain in the General Hospital, said to be the largest in the Southern Hemisphere. In the latter part of 1952 I went over to New Zealand for eleven months. In all my journeyings through that beautiful country, I found the Catholic church very vigorous, both in the North and South Islands. Particularly at Christchurch, Napier, Taupo and Rotorua (where I met the Mill Hill Fathers) I found a spiritual home. I also had the good fortune to spend a few days on a farm with a Catholic family in the Waikato, who recited the Rosary together, morning and evening. In this case it was very true that the family that prays together stays together, for it would be difficult to find a happier or more united home.

In October, 1953, I returned to make my home in Australia. In the month of November, acting on a friend’s advice, I found myself in Tamworth (New South Wales). Soon after my arrival, the visit of Father Peyton was announced. The hour of truth was now near at hand. That evening, I stood in the Tamworth Showground in the midst of 5,000 people gathered from all parts for a Rosary Crusade. The atmosphere was indescribable; and as I listened to Father Peyton’s simple but passionate appeal, someone (was it Our Lady?) seemed to say to me: “You have said a prayer to me every day. Is it not now time to make the great act of Faith?” It was a challenge I must accept, and as I did so, the truth seemed to dawn in all its fulness upon my soul. There is only one Church-the Catholic Church founded by Our Divine Lord on the Rock of Peter. It was now for me to enter that Church against which Our Lord said. “The gates of Hell shall not prevail.” Once within that Church, all doubts would disappear.

After an interview with the Administrator, who was willing to help me as much as possible, I found that I should have to wait until arrangements could be made for my entry into a monastery where I desired to be prepared for reception into the Church.

I occupied this time of waiting, by taking stock of my position. For over twenty-seven years I had been in orders in the Anglican Church-and they had been very happy years, and God in His goodness had granted me much success, both at home and abroad. I had particularly enjoyed preaching, but, of late, my enthusiasm had waned, and I had begun to feel that perhaps I was not preaching the truth. Moreover, I had serious doubts as to the validity of my orders. Pope Leo, after exhaustive investigation, and long conferences with the highest and most learned dignitaries and theologians of the Catholic Church, had pronounced Anglican orders to be invalid, also the later efforts of the saintly Cardinal Mercier to bring together more closely Canterbury and Rome were without avail. I realized, too, that Henry VIII by his rejection of the Pope’s supremacy, and his own appointment as supreme head of the Church in England, had indeed founded a new Church. The break with Rome was made more complete by his wanton destruction of churches, abbeys, and monasteries and the confiscation to his own uses of the Church’s rightful property. His execution of More and Fisher and his persecution of other faithful Catholics, only intensified his crimes. Later, Elizabeth, in her vigorous persecution of the Catholics (during whose reign many more Catholics were put to death, than were Protestants in Mary’s reign), closed the door to reunion with Rome. Also, the issue of the prayer book of 1662 (which is the authorized Anglican Prayer Book of today), abolished once and for all the Mass and the Reservation of the Blessed Sacrament. The churches were altered by the removal of the altars, and the statues of Our Lady and the Saints. Anyone carefully reading the Thirty-nine Articles (to which all Anglican clergy in England have to subscribe before ordination) can no longer doubt that the break with the Catholic Church was complete.

I was further faced with the fact that the very name Anglican (or Church of England) seemed to mark her off from all other Churches as the Church of a Nation. Though she has today her Church Assembly and convocations, yet she has to submit many of her new laws to Parliament for final approval, as witness the rejection by Parliament of the Revised Prayer Book in 1926–7. Many of her important appointments are made by the Prime Minister, who may not even be a member of the Church. Every bishop too, must pay homage to the reigning sovereign (this of course only applies to the Church in England).

The different titles assumed by the Church in various countries only intensifies the problem. There are the Church of Scotland, the Church of Wales, the Church of Ireland, the Church of England in Jamaica, the Church of the Province of South Africa, the Church of South India (where the experiments of union between the Anglican and Free Churches is to be tried and is already causing many clergy, who do not approve, to leave their church for the Catholic Church). here are also at least three schools of thought in the Anglican Church today: Evangelical, sometimes known as Low Church; Central, including Modernist or Moderate High Church; Anglo-Catholic, including the extreme section. As locum, I have served in all these sections, and at times have found it confusing when trying to adapt myself to all the different types of service in each church. In hardly any church could one be assured of a real Prayer Book service. I found the Church of Ireland the most consistent in her services, especially in the Holy Communion.

Again, there seemed no unity of belief.

Many of us were unsettled, some years ago, by the extreme Modernist views of the late Bishop Barnes, Dr. Major of Oxford, Dean Inge, and others. On one occasion a Unitarian Minister preached in Liverpool Cathedral; and during special services in the cause of Reunion in St. Paul’s Cathedral, London, lay preachers of different beliefs, including a woman, were allowed to preach.

The lack of Authority also caused me anxiety. Bishops preached different doctrines, and there seemed to be no common policy. What was tolerated in one diocese would not be allowed in another. During recent years the strange utterances and conduct of the Red Dean of Canterbury have caused consternation among loyal Anglicans, and yet the authorities are powerless to remove him. I was also surprised to find (especially in South Africa) that many of the bishops and clergy belonged to the Freemasons.

Another alarming feature seems to be the practice of cremation (once a pagan custom), which is growing in both Anglican and Free Churches.

Moreover, the many attacks during recent years on the Catholic Church (including our Holy Father the Pope) by Anglican Church dignitaries, both here, and in England, dismayed me, and I felt that I could no longer consistently remain within the Anglican fold.

I remembered also the multitude of other churches and sects throughout the world: Greek Orthodox, Old Catholic, Dutch Reformed, Moravian, and others too numerous to mention. I had made a study of many of them; Mohammedanism (including reading of the Koran), Christian Science, Spiritualism (including my attendance at many seances), Seventh Day Adventist, Salvation Army, etc. But what a sad spectacle these many sects make today. All of them were founded, not by Christ, but by mere man, and in one case by a woman. I realized that there can be no unity outside the Catholic Church. Our Lord’s prayer was “That they all may be one. The Catholic Church alone bears the marks of unity. And now the time had come for me to enter that Church. Early in 1954, I made my way to the Redemptorist Monastery, Mayfield, N.S.W., where my arrival had been awaited. Here I received a welcome, and found that Our Lady, too, was awaiting me. This is Our Lady’s Monastery indeed, where great crowds from Newcastle and miles around throng to her Novena every Saturday of the year gaining grace in abundance for every phase and trial of life. It was an amazing experience to see the church packed for the six sessions, and to notice the large numbers waiting for confession. It was inspiring, too, to join in the glorious hymns to Our Lord and His Blessed Mother, and to hear of some of the marvellous answers to prayers to Our Lady, often numbering over 2,000 a week.

During fourteen unforgettable days I was prepared for reception into the Church. The day before, I sent in my resignation to the Anglican Bishop of Newcastle, in whose diocese I was now staying. The next day (January 30, a redletter day in my life) I made my profession of faith, was baptized, and received into the Church. Later, I made my first confession, and words fail to describe the peace and happiness which then came into my soul. The following day (Sunday) I made my first Communion, and afterwards received the congratulations of many in the monastery who had now become my friends and who gave me many tokens of the great event. At the close of my last day in the monastery, I knelt down at the Shrine of Our Lady of Perpetual Succour and gave thanks to her, to whom I had prayed so long. Those prayers had been answered. I had made the great surrender, and was at last a member of the greatest family on earth. As I left the monastery I could not help saying in the words of Newman. “I have not sinned against the light.”

It was encouraging to hear that about this time, three other Anglican clergy were also received into the Church in Australia.

Most appropriately, a good Irish priest kindly took me to his presbytery in the country, until I could find a settled home. Whilst there, my happiness was completed when the good Bishop of Maitland (the late Dr. Gleeson) very kindly Confirmed me at a special Confirmation arranged for me in his Cathedral. In addition to the sponsor, only one or two others were present, but the service was mostimpressive. The bishop’s address, too, was very helpful at this important moment in my life. I took as my Confirmation name Francis, as I had for many years been devoted to St. Francis of Assisi.

I then asked Our Lady to help me in the finding of a home, until such time as my future might be settled. The task was appropriately given to the Legion of Mary, who soon found me .a comfortable Catholic home in Mayfield, where I stayed for some months.

Soon after my reception into the Church, I received many letters of congratulation-from priests and Catholic friends. Two which I value very highly from the Bishop of Southwark, Dr. Cowdrey) and Rev. Dr. Rumble, M.S.C. One priest wrote: “Thank God you had the courage to take the step at last.”

The question arises, why then all this delay? The light of truth dawned upon my soul in Ireland in October, 1947, and yet the great act of Faith was not made until January, 1954, in Australia.

It must be remembered that it is always harder for one who has spent over forty years in clerical life in two different churches. It meant the loss of clerical privileges, perhaps, too, the loss of many dear friends, and a break with the 01d associations. It meant relinquishing the joys of preaching, and teaching in the schools and pastoral work, to which I was much attached. All this had to be given up, and as my age and health would not permit me to be a priest or brother, the future seemed difficult and uncertain. Lack of courage was also doubtless a cause of the delay.

However, in the end, my conscience would not allow me to continue, for I felt that with my knowledge of the Catholic Faith I was incurring a great and awful risk by remaining outside the Church. So at last, thank God, I made the great surrender; and when I did, instead of being blamed for the long delay in making up my mind, I met with sympathy, kindness, and understanding from priests and nuns and laity alike.

And now what have I found since I entered the Church

(1) Security.

The Church has been likened to a ship. Once within her, there is security and safety amid all the storms of life. She is a home for all wanderers who cannot find rest outside her. Father Bede Jarrett, O.P. says: “She is the Church of all peoples, of all times, of all the ages of man. She is the Church for the children, the Church for the poor, the Church for the old, the Church for the young. For each, whatever his state, or age, or capacity, she has the way of good.” And, we may add, all nations find a home in her, and her Sacraments sustain the faithful from the cradle to the grave; and after death they are helped by the prayers of those on earth.

(2) Authority.

The teaching of the Church is the teaching of Christ, which has come down to us direct from Him. She speaks with one Voice through the reigning Pope, and not in many voices. It was quite a relief for me, after years of uncertainty of belief, and varieties of worship, to turn to a Church which offered me authority. In times of doubt I could always be assured of finding the truth.

(3) Unity.

The Catholic Church acknowledges One Head: (Christ’s representative on earth) Pope Pius XII, one of God’s greatest gifts to the Church. His saintliness, his great intellectual powers, his enormous capacity for work, his extreme simplicity of life, and his accessibility to all peoples, impressed me tremendously on entering the Church.

One Head, One Faith, and One Mass: Wherever one goes, into whatever country, and in whatever language, all Catholics hear the same Faith taught in the schools and preached in the Church; the same Sacrifice of the Mass in the one language (Latin) which can be followed by the faithful everywhere.

(4) Continuity.

“The gates of hell,” said Our Lord, “shall not prevail against her.” Wherever I have gone, in different parts of the world, it is the same story. Persecutions (since the earliest times), opposition, slander, wars, misrepresentation, communism, revolutions-in spite of them all, she still endures, because she is of God. When all else have passed away, Christ’s Church will still remain.

(5) Progress.

The progress of the Catholic Church everywhere is astounding. Churches, halls and presbyteries are being built in all countries. Catholic schools are turning out thousands of fine boys and girls, equipped in the best way for the future. Homes for the orphans, the aged, the deaf and dumb, and blind, for the retarded children, Moral Welfare Homes, hospitals, monasteries and convents: Missions at home and abroad. The many Orders of the Church, all doing the special work for which they were formed; the Catholic Press; the work for conversion (especially in England). All this astounded me when I came into the Church. Since then, I have seen something of the working of the St. Vincent de Paul Society, the Holy Name Society, the Legion of Mary, Children of Mary, and the countless Sodalities of the Church. I have seen too, the devoted service of men and women and children, week by week, for their churches. Devoted priests, monks, brothers and sisters, all working for nothing (including overtime), and never going on strike! What a lesson for the restless, discontented world of today. And this is going on year after year, all over the world, and is seldom mentioned in our newspapers. It all made a profound impression upon me, both before and after entering the Church. Our prayer daily must be that there may be more vocations for this great and glorious work. Ireland has contributed more than her share. It is time for others to contribute their full share as well.

I wisely left my future in the hands of the Blessed Virgin, praying that one day, if it be God’s will, I might find a home near the Franciscans where I could have time for rest, worship, and some kind of service. Meanwhile, I found I was able to be useful in giving talks on my conversion to schools, Catholic clubs, convent classes, Enquiry Days for Converts, the Legion of Mary, and to Church congregations after evening service, in N.S.W. and Queensland, and also by writing short articles for Catholic magazines.

In addition, I have had lots of quiet talks with Protestants on their usual objections to the Catholic Church, nearly all based on ignorance and prejudice-Why do Catholics worship the Virgin Mary? Why are Catholics not allowed to read the Bible? Does Peter’s Pence go to keep the Pope in luxury?

The infallibility of the Pope. Do Catholics pay their priests to have their sins forgiven? Why do they pray to images? Why pray for the dead? The meaning of Indulgences. The Mass in Latin, and so on. I have been able in most cases to open their eyes, and refute their arguments. In this way, the . . . , and Dr. Rumble’s Radio Replies are doing much to disseminate the real truth about the Church.

I have found that the prospective convert has to make the first move, the Church is not out to waylay those of other churches, but leaves the ever-open door, that the enquirer himself may enter therein.

At last, after much travelling and enquiry, I found at Michelmas, 1955, a home with the Fransciscan Fathers at Kedron, Brisbane. In a house in Gympie Road (now used as a Mass centre) I am able to have a room, and at the same time act as voluntary caretaker and sacristan and attend the daily Mass.

For the present I go to the Little Flower Church near the friary (a mile away) for other services. It is wonder ful how Our Lady has led me in answer to prayer these last eight years, and has placed me in one of her own churches, “Our Lady of the Angels.”

And as I look on this sad war-torn world, so full of materialism, unbelief, sin and communism, I am convinced that there can only be one cure for the ills of the world today, and that is a full and complete acceptance and practice of the Catholic faith by all, the world over. The Catholic Church seems to be the only body today that is combating the evils of the world, including, the greatest evil of our time, communism.

A writer has said, “It is in the power of God to lead me individually to Himself, by a path singled out from all eternity, that I alone shall take.”

I believe that God in His Wisdom led me along this path, and brought me at last into the fuller life which the Catholic Church alone can give.

If this story may, in the hands of God, be the means of leading only one soul along that path to the Church founded by His Son Jesus Christ, then it will not have been written in vain.

NihiI Obstat:

PERCY JONES, Diocesan Censor. Imprimatur:

@ D. MANNIX, Archiepiscopus Melbournensis. 12th October, 1958. ********

It Does Make A Difference . . . What I Believe

BY RICHARD GINDER

INDEX

Wean the baby on milk or gin.

Shine your shoes with black or tan polish.

Put new tires or retreads on your car.

It’s all the same!

Drink paregoric or ginger ale.

Eat bacon or limburger for breakfast.

Go to church or don’t go.

It doesn’t make any difference!

BUT that doesn’t make sense. Everybody knows that gin is far too strong for a baby- and tan polish on black shoes will make an awful mess- and you won’t ride as far on retreads as on new tyres. Everybody knows that a glass of paregoric would kill a horse-limburger is a little strong as a breakfast food- but so many people stop right there. They will say that whether or not you go to church -that is your own business, and it doesn’t make much difference in the long run. Which is so much nonsense.

God put us here. We are here for a purpose and we must find out what that purpose is.

We are in the driver’s seat, behind the wheel, and if we do not find out how to steer; what road to take- we are bound to crack up sooner or later.

We all know that there will be a life after death-an everlasting life. Wouldn’t we be foolish if we didn’t try to find out something about it? So many of us jump off at the deep end without having the least idea of what is in store for us.

If we want to take out a little insurance policy, we start looking around and reading advertisements. We call up the A.M.P. agent and compare his rates with the Prudential man’s.

If we decide on a new car, we think a long time before we decide on a Ford, or a Holden, or a Toyota.

Why, if we only want a new rug for the dining-room, we shop around and visit one store after another.

But when it comes to everlasting life,—that is when we close our eyes and hope for the best.

Suppose you should wake up some day and find yourself in hell! Not a very pleasant thought, but then not all truth is pleasant. I must have a tooth pulled soon. I don’t like the idea very much. But like it or not, it’s the truth; and unless I have that tooth out, my cheek will soon be as big as a ripe tomato.

Right now there are over 400,000,000 people who agree that there is a hell. Maybe you don’t-and maybe you’re wrong.

You see, there are some things we just have to face-even as I have to worry about that tooth. And you would get quite a jolt if you were to wake up on the other side of the grave to find that you had spent this life barking up the wrong tree-to find that you were one of those standing at the left of the Judge instead of the right. It’s possible, you know!

There is such a thing as a fool’s paradise. The people of Germany, for instance, lived there until one day they woke up and found the Allied legions marching down the main streets of Berlin. They had thought Germany could not lose. Until the last, they had thought their armies were unbeatable. They were surprised. And painfully! HOW can you be sure you won’t some day get a like uncomfortable surprise?

PERHAPS you already go to church. Perhaps you are a devout Christian. In that event, we take off our hat to you. You are to be congratulated-praised for your piety and devotion in an age gone pleasure-mad. If you can find time for God now, be sure that He will find time for you later; and if you own Him in this life, He will own you in the next.

Do you believe that yours is the right church? If you’re a Baptist, what reason have you for not being a Methodist? And if you’re a Methodist, why aren’t you a Presbyterian? Have you ever thought about that?-or are you one of those kind souls who say “It doesn’t make any difference what church you go to; we’re all headed for heaven, but by different paths”?

I wonder if Jesus Christ would agree. He came to earth and lived with us about thirty-three years. And He felt very strongly on some points. For instance, He told Nicodemus-”Unless a man be born again of water and the Holy Ghost, he cannot enter into the kingdom of God” (Jn. iii, 5). That’s pretty strong. It’s a case of either-or. No two ways about it. And at first all Christians read it just as it stood, and they had their children baptized as soon as possible. But how many Christians still believe in Baptism? Jesus did not change. Some of us must have. Then Baptism must be as necessary right now, as it was in Christ’s time-and some of us must be wrong.

FROM the Scriptures, it’s as plain as the nose on your face that Jesus was God. Just look at these texts:

FROM the Scriptures, it’s as plain as the nose on your face that Jesus was God. Just look at these texts:

21.22- 25.30; x, 30–37–38; xiv, 9.10.12; Romans: ix,5; Colossians: i, 13–20; Phillippians: ii, 5–11.

And still many, many Christians deny that Jesus was God. Now, He either was or He wasn’t, and someone must be wrong. And what a whale of a difference it makes! If He was God, then I believe that by doing His bidding, I can save my soul. If He was not God, then I’ll do just as well to sit home Sunday mornings and read the paper. I’d as soon do honour to the memory of Caesar or Napoleon as to Jesus Christ-that is, if He wasn’t God.

It is not right, then, to say that we are all going to heaven, but by different roads. Suppose four of us want to get to Sydney. One of us takes a southbound train-another drives due north; one starts westward on a bicycle-and one of us goes to the station, asks about the proper direction, buys his ticket, and gets there in the surest possible way.

There is a right way of doing things; and if Jesus Christ, the Second Person of the Blessed Trinity, came to earth that He might lead men back to God, then you may be sure that He mapped out the surest possible route, and told men all about it. He couldn’t do otherwise. He was God. And if the idea of four people starting off for Sydney in four different directions strikes us as queer, how must it seem to God, looking down on us struggling toward heaven-one believing that Baptism is as necessary to salvation as the battery to a car, another believing that it is about as necessary as the cigar-lighter; one believing that Jesus was God-another, that He was not; that there is a hell-that there is not; all this, after Jesus came to earth and told us just what was what about the whole thing.

No-there are Methodists and Presbyterians, Baptists and United Brethren, Episcopalians and Catholics, Mormons and Christian Scientists, and all kinds of people teaching all kinds of things.They can’t all be right. If they all agreed, they could all unite; but they are all different and, what’s worse, they all claim to have the truth.

If a man has any kind of a head on his shoulders, he’ll see that Jesus would want him to nose around and get hold of the right church-the best, the authorized, God’s own roadmap through life.

It is not enough to say- “My father’s church is good enough for me.” Suppose St. Paul had said that! Suppose the Romans, and the Ephesians, and the Corinthians had felt that way when the apostles first preached to them! It might be that one of our forefathers made a mistake- or let politics get in the way of his better judgment-or was forced against his will from one church to another.

No.-Each man must make the quest for himself.

Suppose, now, that you were commissioned-as Christ was-to spread the good news of the Gospel from one end of the earth to the other. How would you go about it?

WELL, you would work as long as you could, and then you would probably appoint a superintendent, to take over after you had died. You would show him just how you wanted things to run after your death. You would set up a regular organization, with power to let people in and keep crackpots out of your society. In any event, it would be a definitely organized Society, with one head, and various men beneath him, in charge, to see that things went properly, each in his own corner of the globe-just as men do today. In every great business enterprise there is some kind of manager at the head with power to hire and fire, with authority to give orders and have them obeyed. Under him there are heads of various departments and managers of various territories in which the business operates. Under these are clerks, salesmen, etc. And every small business has at least a head. You can’t run even a corner grocery store without a responsible head.

And that is just what Christ did. He appointed one man and gave him power to superintend the whole Church. This man was St. Peter:

“I say to thee: that thou art Peter; and upon this rock I will build my church, and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it” (Mt. xvi, 18.)

This superintendent was to have all the power he needed for his office. What good is the head of a house if he cannot say who is to come in and who to stay out of his house?

“And I will give to thee the keys of the kingdom of heaven. And whatsoever thou shalt bind upon earth, it shall be bound also in heaven: and whatsoever thou shalt loose on earth, it shall be loosed also in heaven” (Mt. xvi, 19.)

YOU can see, then, that Christ had one definite society in mind, and that one cannot become a member of that society just for the saying so.

I can call myself a member of the Y. M. C. A., or Rotary, or Apex, until I’m black in the face; but my saying so doesn’t do a bit of good. Until I have presented myself to the local secretary, and agreed to abide by the rules, and have been accepted, I’m just plain, ordinary Citizen John Doe.

Listen to this:

“If thy brother shall offend against thee, go, and rebuke him between thee and him alone. If he shall hear thee, thou shalt gain thy brother.”

“And if he will not hear thee, take with thee one or two more: that in the mouth of two or three witnesses every word may stand.”

“And if he will not hear them; tell the Church. And if he will not hear the Church, let him be to thee as the heathen and publican.”

“Amen I say to you, whatsoever you shall bind upon earth, shall be bound also in heaven: and whatsoever you shall loose upon earth, shall be loosed also in heaven” (Mt. xviii, 15–18).

WHOM did Christ mean by YOU in that last verse? He was speaking to the apostles-the governing body of His Church. He could not have meant everybody, for where everybody can bind and loose, .then there is no one left to be bound or loosed.

There must be a church-a definite organization-with power to admit and reject members: to consider unworthy brethren as “the heathen and the publican.” And there must be a governing body with power to bind and loose the members of that church.

NOW: what is to prevent the rejected of the Church-the one accounted a “heathen and a publican” by the faithful-what is to hinder him from starting up his own little church?-and running competition to the mother Church? It would be a grand way to get square! But see how foolish the idea is. Because there can be only one church with the authority of Christ-only one church with the power to bind and loose. How could there be two? For what the one bound, the other would loose and you would have contradictions and confusion instead of a straight road to heaven.

To speak of, say, myself starting up a new church is like speaking of starting a new government here in Australia. I could coin money and print banknotes; they might look like the genuine articles-they might feel all right-but they would be worthless all the same. There is one government with the authority to coin money-the federal government. And there is only one church with the authority of Christ.

BUT which is the Church with the authority of Christ? Right here and now-which is the Church founded by Jesus Christ?

THIS is an important question-the most important issue you have ever faced. This is a matter which involves eternity-your own everlasting soul. You must face it fearlessly, resolved to follow the result of your findings wherever they may lead you. The answer may be unexpected-it may be unpleasant-but remember: “What doth it profit a man if he gain the whole world, but suffer the loss of his own soul” (Mt. xvi, 26)?

You are resolved to follow Christ, whatever the cost. This little pamphlet, however you came by it, may well be the very Providence of God, intervening on your behalf.

The question of the true church is a matter of pure history. Just take any one church and follow it back to the time it received its charter from Christ; that is, you must find out whether St. Peter and the apostles were members of that church. If not, then you must find out what sect they did belong to. For their church is the Church of Christ, and the one you should belong to.

Very well. We’ll demonstrate this idea, choosing a sect at random.

Perhaps you are a Methodist. Who was the founder of Methodism? John Wesley, of course. But John Wesley was not born until 1703, so that Christ and His apostles never even heard of Methodism. They lived sixteen centuries before.

But what was John Wesley before he founded Methodism? He was an Anglican (Episcopalian, in the United States). So then Methodism was an offshoot of Anglicanism. But who founded the Anglican Church? Its head, since 1534, has been the King of England. It was in 1534 that an Act of Parliament declared the English sovereign “the only supreme head on earth of the Church of England” -which is the Anglican (Episcopalian) Church.

AND who had been “the only supreme head on earth” of the English Church before 1534? History says it was the Holy Father of Christendom, Clement VII, the Bishop of Rome, even as St. Peter had been Bishop of Rome. Clement VII, then, through the successive laying on of hands from the time of St. Peter, received his function as foundation stone of the Church, with its attendent power of binding and loosing its members.

And when Clement VII heard the news of King Henry VIII’s Act of Supremacy, he called together his bishops, the successors of the apostles, and sadly announced that, as the King of England would no longer listen to the Church, then the Church must regard him as a heathen and a publican. Henry was out of the fold, with no more power to head a church of his own, than I have to print postage-stamps.

And in some similar way each of the 250 and more Christian sects now operating throughout the world came into existence. Each one of them stemmed out from the Church of Rome or from some group that had stemmed out from the Roman Church.

CAN it be, then, that the church presided over by the Bishop of Rome is the true Church?

Well, the Bishops of Rome are the successors of St. Peter, who was the first Bishop of Rome and the Chief of the Apostles, whom the Lord commanded to feed, not only His lambs, but His sheep as well (Jn. xxi, 16–17). They inherit the power of binding and loosing, besides the special assistance of the Master-”Simon, Simon, behold Satan hath desired to have you, that he may sift you as wheat: But I have prayed for thee, that thy faith fail not: and thou being once converted,confirm thy brethren” (Lk. xxii, 31–2)

THE Bishops of Rome have carefully kept the heritage of truth, left by Jesus, from contamination. Under the guidance of the Holy Spirit (“Behold I am with you all days, even to the end of the world” Mt. xxviii, 20; see also Jn. xiv, 26; xvi, 13; Acts i, 8; Ps. cxliv, 13; Jn. xx, 21.3)-under this guidance, they have carefully examined all the teachings in the Church. Where they have discovered error, they have reproved it and, where necessary, dismissed those in error from the ranks of the faithful as they were forced to do, for instance, in the case of the King of England.

The Bishops of Rome have always presided over the Church of Christ. One bishop living in the early centuries of the Church, expressed the rallying cry of Christianity when he wrote-”Where Peter is, there is the Church.”

The Bishop of Rome still presides over the Church of Christ. Our Holy Father, the Pope, successor of St. Peter is vested with those original powers, given to the Chief of the Apostles.

Most probably there is a Catholic church near you, or if not near, then not many miles away. There must be. Christ commanded His disciples to preach the Gospel to all nations (Mt. xxviii, 18–20). Not just to England, or to Scotland, or to America. The Gospel is for everyone. Columbus, when he came to America, brought Catholic priests with him; there were no non-Catholic ministers then.

From Hudson Bay all the way down to Cape Horn-in China, in Africa, in Australia-everywhere, heroic men are going on with the preaching of the Gospel of Jesus Christ as He gave it to His apostles.

Look into your own heart. Think the thing through.

One lastword: pray, pray in this fashion: “God, that I may see the truth and have the strength to accept it!”—“God, grant that I may see the Catholic Church as you see it.”

IF I AM RIGHT THY GRACE IMPART STILL IN THAT RIGHT TO STAY. IF I AM WRONG, THEN GIVE ME HEART TO FIND A BETTER WAY

It’s Christ Or War

BY DANIEL A. LORD S.J

INDEX

“YOU were good to let us know you planned this trip to town,” said the girl, settling herself in a chair, and laying back her coat, which the head waiter arranged in becoming background.

“Of course,” said the young man, but not addressing the girl, “you must admit we were persistent. How many invitations do you usually get before you write one acceptance?”

“It depends.” replied the priest, “on who invites me.”

The young couple looked dramatically crestfallen.

“Just how far down on the scale does that put us?” the young man demanded.

“You’d be surprised to learn how high up you rate,” the priest retorted, smiling with genuine interest. “I can’t remember when I last accepted a luncheon engagement in town. My plans for town are always simple. I run up from Lakeside as fast as the express train or my own car will carry me. I transact my business at top speed. I drop into the bookshops for such new books as interest me. I snatch a bite of lunch wherever I think the service will be fastest, and I”m off before the clock in the steeple strikes one.”

Father Hall almost chanted the last line, and Helen Webb and Fred Osborne, who had been reading books of old songs themselves, recognized the phrase and chanted in return:

“Father, dear father, come home with us now!”

REUNION

“Only,” sighed Helen, “we really haven’t any homes, either of us, where we could entertain. Mine’s an efficiency apartment shared with two untidy women of letters.”

“And mine’s a hotel bedroom; only the bed disappears behind a door, where no one, except all the visitors, could possibly guess it’s hidden.”

“Dear, dear!” mocked the priest, catching their tone. “How you creators of literature starve and suffer for your art!”

They all laughed; and Helen, with sudden earnestness, said, “Just the same, it’s mighty good of you to take lunch with two benighted pagans like Fred and myself. We hardly dared to ask you. But we did hope you would accept:”

“And,” said Father Hall, “you see, I did.”

“In which case,” the young man commented, “I suggest an intensive study of the card and some adroit and experienced ordering.”

OF MANY THINGS

They buried themselves in the menu briefly, ordered with practised speed and no inter-consultation, and then, as the waiter disappeared, smiled at one another across the table set close to the wall in the quiet hotel dining room. It was well past the lunch hour; Father Hall’s appointments for the morning had fortunately made that necessary. So the luncheon guests were largely gone. and the orchestra had mercifully laid aside its bass viol and packed away its saxophones and violins, and the three friends faced one another in the happy consciousness that the food would be merely the civilized accompaniment of conversation.

“I saw your article in ‘The Manhattanite,’ “ said Father Hall, turning to the young man. “Very amusing. You have a nice sense of humour. I sound terribly patronizing don’t I? I mean you are clever without being satiric, and amusing without being cruel.”

“Nice of you,” Osborne replied gratefully.

“And no words of praise for me?” demanded the girl, with a hurt look.

“Emphatically, yes Consistently you become less Dorothy Parker and more Helen Webb, to my great joy and the real improvement of your verse.”

“Following your advice,” the girl replied.

“I have accepted the slightly indirect compliment,” said the priest, smiling. And then, “Well, what’s new or news?”

OUT OF A POCKET

“New farce opened last night. I forget the name. Slightly more vulgar and much more tiresome than any of its predecessors. The last novel by America’s only Nobel prize winner is terrible and a flop: should have been called ‘Potboiler’s End.’ Everyone is plunging in the market as if the crash had never pulverized us all. Wars and rumours of wars.”

The priest seemed to focus on the last comment.

“Wars? Yes. I hear that Lloyds of London are offering two to one on another European war inside eight months.” “I hope not,” said the girl fervently.

“Which makes me think!” the priest exclaimed, plunging his hand into his inside pocket, and drawing out envelopes, notebooks, a railroad clergy book, and half a dozen clippings. He selected one of the clippings and laid it on the table beside his cup. “The other day I ran across the most extraordinary thing in the records of the American Association for the Advancement of Science. Your comment about war made me think of it. Astonishing, really!”

He stroked out the wrinkles in the clipping and pored over it with fresh interest.

TWENTY-FOUR CENTURIES OF WAR

“Two exiled Russians, now professors here in America, made a graph of twenty-four hundred years of war. Typical Russian names. Let me read them: Petirim Alexandrovich Sorokin and Nikolai Nikolaivich Golovine; and typical Russian thoroughness.”

“Imagine plotting out twenty-four centuries of anything!” cried the girl.

“I should imagine,” Osborne suggested, “that twenty-four centuries would show a considerable fistful of wars:”

“Nine hundred and two,” replied the priest, “from the high point at the crest of Roman pre-Christian conquest, to zero, at the very moment when, significantly enough, the Prince of Peace was born, in a rapid rise during the barbaric invasions, until the year 1925. That is as far as our Russians went:”

“Bolshevists or Whites?” asked the young man.

“According to the account, they were imprisoned under the Czar for being radical and exiled by the soviet for being conservative. So you can classify them yourself.”

“We’ll let that ride, thank you,” said Helen, smilingly, and the priest looked again at his clipping.

“Now here’s the thing that astonished me. Could you guess what was the most peaceful period in history since the birth of Christ?”

The two young people looked thoughtful, puzzled, and completely at sea.

“I couldn’t, either,” hastened the priest. “This came as a complete surprise. The two professors studied wars on the basis of numbers actually engaged, the numbers engaged in proportion to the world population of the time, number of casualties, number of countries involved, disastrous effects. With zero for absolute peace, they found that the century of greatest world peace, with the percentage only 2.7, was the twelfth century of the Christian Era, from the years 1100 to 1200.”

“I shouldn’t have guessed it,” murmured Osborne.

“Nor I,” the young woman agreed.

“But immediately after that, as I recall,” continued Osborne, “the Crusades continued, didn’t they, and plunged Europe into anera of uninterrupted war?”

WAR RISES

“Correct in a way,” the priest said. “Here they are on the chart. Of course, I”ve always thought the Crusades were the most misunderstood wars of history, in spite of the fact that the name “Crusader” is now used for every splendid and disinterested fighter in whatever cause. I hate to think of Islam or Mohammedanism completely in control of Europe as it was for centuries in control of Greece; and it would have been but for the Crusades.

“However, they continued, and we find the percentage pushed up to 31.32. From that minute on, there is a slow rise until the Protestant Revolt.”

“You mean the Reformation?” corrected Helen mildly.

“Sorry. It’s a matter of a point of view. The percentage reached a new high during the religious wars and continued to rise, until, in the eighteenth century, it was 567.5.”

“Why. that is almost two hundred times what it was in the twelfth!” cried Osborne.

“Your mathematics are good. It is exactly two hundred and ten times as high. But now take a deep breath. We are coming to the first quarter of our highly civilized, politely refined, culturally correct, 20th century. Can you stand a shock?”

“We’ll try to bear up.”

OUR DISGRACE

“Remembering that zero is complete peace and 2.7 the twelfth century, the first quarter of our 20th century rises to

13,735.98!”

“My stars!” gasped the young man.

For answer, the hands of the young woman contracted as if the statement really hurt.

“It’s a bit of a blow,” the priest continued, “to realize,” and he made some rapid calculations on a menu card, “that our generation is actually five thousand and eighty-seven times as bloodthirsty and warlike as the men of the twelfth century and more than four hundred times as warlike as the knights of the Crusades, who have been regarded as the very symbols of professional warriors.”

WHEN, NOT IF

They ate in silence for a moment. Then, with a quick gesture, Osborne laid down his spoon.

“I”m afraid you’re taking away my appetite, Father. I just started to realize what the percentage of the next war will be.”

“If there is a next war,” Helen interpolated, trying to act as if she meant the doubt she expressed. “If!” snorted Osborne. “If!! You mean when. There is no if about it, unfortunately. All you have to do is look at the way the whole world is getting ready for it.

“I know,” she admitted. “H. G. Wells the other day predicted the world’s greatest war to be waged between the years 1940 and 1949.”

“And,” Osborne supplemented, “in this blessed spring of 1934, as Father just reminded us, Lloyds of London will bet you two to one that there will be a war in Europe inside of eight months.”

“AFTER LAST.”

“Did either of you,” asked the priest, “read General McArthur’s recent article called ‘The War After Last’?” They shook their heads. “He claims that the principles and practice of war have developed more since the last war of 1914 to 18, than they developed between the Spanish-American and the last one (the so-called Great War)-gas thrown with the accuracy of shells; aeroplanes with a cruising range of three thousand miles and a carrying capacity of five tons of high explosive; tanks moving, not as they did during the World War, at four miles an hour, but doing forty over broken ground; a modern rifle with the effectiveness of a World War rapid-fire gun; and one man equipped to have the fighting effectiveness of a former company. As for the death rays-”

“Frankly, Father,” Osborne expostulated, “I don’t believe in them.”

“Maybe not. Neither does General McArthur, apparently. Yet a man from the laboratories of one of our biggest electrical companies told me five years ago that the next war might be fought by radio, and that even then the death ray was perfected enough to wither to ashes a rat in a trap. “We expect some day, and that not too far off, to be able to reduce to ashes a battalion, sending the death ray by radio.” That was what he said. He may have been talking nonsense. Buthe seemed to mean it.”

UNDODGED

“Let’s get off the subject of war,” cried Helen, closing her eyes.

“My dear,” the young man replied, “I wish to high heaven we could. But with every nation armed to the teeth, with Russia and Japan waiting to see which will strike first, and Germany rattling the sword, and Poland, Italy and France mustering enormous standing armies, and more than half the world under dictators, who are always a prime cause for war, and China one vast battlefield, Cuba just recovering from civil war and Austria in the heart of it, what can we do except think about war?”

“Unless,” said Father Hall quietly, “we think a little about how it can be prevented.”

“If we only knew!” the young man groaned. “I don’t want to go to war. None of us want to. But how under heaven can we stop the mad rush?”

SELF-INTEREST

“Well, there are reasons of self-interest that might appeal.”

“Self-interest!” Osborne scoffed. “Every nation that’s fool enough to go to war is convinced that it will be the winner, that the other nations will suffer, but it will come out of the war with its self-interest glutted with new possessions, new power, new territories, and new revenues in the form of indemnities. Selfinterest! That’s what makes them so crazy to go to war!”

“Yet, in the long run, what it costs all of us! The last World War from 1914 to 18 cost $20,000 an hour for every hour since the birth of the Saviour.” This was Father Hall’s rejoinder.

“Not really!” Helen gasped.

“Do you wonder? The barrage that precedes one regiment’s going over the top costs more than the total endowment of Yale or Chicago University. But that’s not what costs most heavily. Where are our leaders in the world today? Why can it be said of our generation that it is an age of the mediocre? We haven’t a first-rate painter or composer or playwright; our political leaders, with rare exceptions, are fumblers; our giants of finance rushed us headlong into chaos. Where are the men who should be leading us? I heard a lecturer answer that question some weeks back: “They are lying dead in Europe under the rows of stone crosses.” It is always the best who go first to war, and it is the best who die, leaving without leaders the generation they should have led in every form of achievement.

SHADOWS

“Self-interest? I don’t know, but we might appeal to that. For if the last war cost the world what it did in money and men and culture, if everything in art and literature and commerce has to come to a dead stop until a war is won or lost, if the depression was spawned out of that World War as inevitably as deep shadows follow an explosion, what’s going to come out of the next war? There are men who predict a complete collapse of our civilization. There are prophets who foresee real dark ages. I personally don’t see how our present civilization can withstand another world war. Do you?”

They sat in thoughtful silence while the waiter prestidigitated their plates before them. But they were thinking far less of the food than of the tremendous question that Father Hall had raised.

ONCE UNITED

“How did this frightful state of affairs come about?” asked Helen at last. “What makes us, with all our culture and abilities and refinement, thousands of times more bloodthirsty than the men of the twelfth century?”

“Because,” said the priest, slowly, “during the twelfth century we came closest to having a perfectly united Christendom. And today the world is divided by hatreds, deep and long-fostered and so radical that they drive men almost against their wills into devastating wars.”

“I”m afraid that needs a lot of explanation,” said Osborne.

“Did you ever hear of the Holy Roman Empire?”

“Yes, I did. Voltaire has a joke about it somewhere. He says that it was a kind of government that existed during the Middle Ages and that it was called the Holy Roman Empire because it wasn’t holy and wasn’t Roman and wasn’t an empire.”

They all laughed.

That’s like Voltaire,” Father Hall nodded. “The only thing the matter with his comment was that he missed the whole point. Of course, it wasn’t really holy, for it was made up of ordinary men of affairs. It wasn’t Roman, because the emperor was a German. And it wasn’t a real empire, because there was too much fine personal and political independence in those days. But it was more than any of those things. It was an ideal. And men live and rise only by their ideals.”

“I don’t think we understand that,” Osborne confessed.

“Well, the Holy Roman Empire was the dream of a united mankind. It was a brave ideal (something like our ineffective League of Nations) of a unified Christendom dominated by two interrelated powers, the Pope for spiritual things, the emperor for civil matters. It was more a hope than a reality, but it was a hope that men and nations could sit around a council table in an empire that was Christian and talk over their affairs like brothers instead of like sworn and distrustful enemies.

“Of course, all of that was based upon the great Catholic concept of a humanity every member of which is the child of one great Father in heaven. The Church was the divine and the empire was the human working-out of the great Catholic dogma of the fatherhood of God and the brotherhood of man.

“And because those ideals were flourishing and strong, the war ratio sank to the all-time low of 2.7. An ideal of a united mankind, born again and ineffectively in our modern League of Nations, actually was for a time working and bringing results in world peace.

GREATEST OF CENTURIES

“That was, of course, a united world. One common culture dominated Europe. Out of that peaceful twelfth century was to blossom what has been called, and perhaps rightly, the Greatest of Centuries.”

“The thirteenth?” asked Helen, interested. The priest nodded his assent. “That thirteenth century, with its unified Gothic architecture springing up in the largest cities and the smallest towns, its unified art suddenly bringing into existence a Gothic anda Cimabue, its united literature flowering in the world’s greatest poet singing his unified song of three worlds united in a great Catholic concept-”

“Dante,” said the young man in recognition.

“-and the development of its democratic concepts of government, came as inevitably as autumn harvest after the warm, laborious summer, following the peace and unity of the twelfth century.

“Why, men even had the world’s only successful universal language. And an English student could transfer from Oxford and Cambridge to the University of Paris or Bologna, and step into his classroom to hear and understand a unified Scholastic Philosophy being explained in the universal Latin, and a lawyer from Madrid could plead his case in Rome or London or Paris or the free cities of Italy or Germany in the same world language.

UNITED WORLD

“Of course, the empire as an ideal was only the outward symbol of the close unity that was the unity of faith. Men knelt together at the same altar and received there the same sacraments. They looked forward in a common faith and hope to an eternity they must spend together. Over the individual standards of each nation was the unifying standard of the cross, and men saw that standard worked into even their national emblems. They had the same universal Fatherin-God, the Pope, and the same unifying canon law, which was identical in every country. And the one living Sacrifice was offered up by the same united priesthood with much the same ritual and language in every country of Christendom.

“There were robber barons and predatory knights and petty fights among handfuls of greedy lords over some parcel of land. But back of all that was a unity of thought and faith and ideal that bound them together in the concept we know as Christendom. And Christendom was bigger than any one nation as it rose superior to any one class or group.”

Inevitably Father Hall knew what the first question would be. And it came.

“Well, what happened to all that fine idealism? How did Christendom split itself into such warring unity as we know today?”

COLLAPSE

Father Hall looked at his questioner with a wry smile.

“That’s a long story and a sad one, with plenty of human selfishness in it,” he answered. “It began when corrupt

Mohammedan morals infiltrated into Europe and the Renaissance started to dominate European thought.” “I thought,” said Helen, surprised, “that the Renaissance was one of the grandest things that ever happened to mankind:”

“In many ways it was. Certainly it released once more the great flow of pagan thought and beauty that had for a time been welled up in monastic libraries. It was a great cultural reawakening. Art never reached again the heights it attained under the approving eyes of Renaissance Popes and princes and cardinals.

“But like so many other things, it sinned by excess. The rediscovery of pagan art and literature and philosophy brought all the thrill of the new and the clever, and in no time scholars were despising anything that was not pagan.

Cardinals were known to forbid the reading of the Gospels at table because the Latin was not Ciceronic. Pagan morals began to be practised. Clever men looked no longer to Christian Rome, but to pagan Athens for their culture, and preferred the snug little earth-hugging temples of effete gods to the great soaring cathedrals of the Eucharistic Christ. “Had not the hearts of men been turned from faith in heaven to interest in Olympus, and from a love of Catholic truth to a consuming enthusiasm for pagan literature, and from the worship of the Christian altar to the cultivation of pagan shrines, the Protestant Revolt, or, if you prefer, the Reformation, could never have occurred.

SPLITTING THE WORLD

“And when that came, Europe was hopelessly and forever split. Whatever you may think of the religious effects of Protestantism, its effects upon the unity of the Christian world were terrible beyond all describing. The unifying altar was smashed. The standard of the cross no longer was a rallying standard for the nations. Even Latin ceased to be the world tongue.

“It’s hard to describe the way that Europe was split along national lines by this terrible division into religions. A Scotchman looked with suspicion upon an Englishman, not merely because he was not Scotch, but because he worshipped God in an Anglican cathedral (recently Catholic) instead of a Presbyterian kirk [recently Catholic, like St Andrews]. A German crossed the borders into France to find a different people, estranged from him by tongue and creed. A Frenchmen passed into Switzerland and could not kneel in the Calvinistic chapel.

“Where, a century before, all Europe had knelt together at the sound of the Angelus or felt the same throb of devotion as the Host was lifted, the singing of the Angelus suddenly inspired hatred in the hearts of half of Europe, and the Host, once the placid sun looking down upon a united Christendom, became the centre about which stormed some of the most bitter wars. The Netherlands regarded Spain less as a national than as a religious enemy. Lutheran Scandinavia first carried its pikes in religious warfare against Catholic countries and then deliberately shut itself away, from fear of popish contamination. The Huguenots split France into civil war, as Calvinists split Switzerland.

NEVER AGAIN

“From the dawn of the Protestant Revolt to the present nations have grown more national, their viewpoint less and less that of mankind and of the world, because their faith and hope and worship have split them into suspicious, distrustful, deeply hating camps. Men could no longer sit round a council table and think of one another as brothers in a common human family, as sons of the same heavenly Father and mother, integrating units in the great family of nations that was Christendom. As I said before, whatever you may think of Protestantism as a creed, it split Europe into nations different in tongue and custom and worship and faith and philosophy and even hope of heaven. No wonder that from the rebellion of Luther until the abortive League of Nations we never so much as saw an attempt on the part of the nations to reunite the world.”

MAN AGAINST MAN

“You blame Protestantism for a great deal,” said Osborne thoughtfully.

“I don’t want to seem to exaggerate,” replied the priest. “And there have been many, many other forces of disunion. The world has since been torn apart on a thousand different lines. The growth of individualism, for example, is part of our problem of a divided world. During the eighteenth century the new philosophers, Voltaire and his group, cut away not merely nation from nation, but individuals from individuals. They denied God and thus destroyed any possibility of a family spirit among His children. They questioned the natural character of the State, and the united feeling of the people faded. Until, during the following century, Nietzsche and Ibsen positively cheered on as a hero and a superman that individual who made war on society itself, and who stood alone, isolated, solitary, independent, and rebellious, fighting for himself and by himself.

“In fact, we entered this 20thcentury persuaded that war was essential and one way to advance the race.”

SURVIVAL OF THE FITTEST

“Why, what do you mean by that?”

“Did you ever hear of the Darwinian theory, the Survival of the Fittest?”

“Of course.”

“Did it ever occur to you that it is not only a complete justification of war, but a positive call to battle? Supposing, of course, that it is true; which it i s not.”

Both Helen and Fred looked a little bewildered.

“Now, I”m not talking about evolution as such. That’s another story. I”m merely referring to Darwin’s explanation of how evolution came about, and few, if any, really reputable scientists hold with him nowadays. At any rate, he maintained that the race progressed through struggle. There was war between the species; and the fit survived, while the unfit went into the discard of palaeontology.

“That was a pleasant enough theory as long as it referred to dinosaurs. But when men took it up as a method of living, war, and terrible war, was inevitable. Before the Great World War we heard a great deal about cultures-not merely the German culture, but the Russian, French, English, Italian cultures. Men were wondering which of these cultures would survive, which had a right to continue. So, to find out, they fought the battle of those cultures in the fields of Flanders. We may say that, whoever was or was not responsible for the war, its battlefields were the experimental laboratory for the Darwinian theory of evolution. Men fought to see which nation had the right to survive and be dominant.

WAR OF CLASSES

“Marx, of course, applied that same theory to economics. Evolution along economic lines must be by struggle, a struggle of one class against another. With him the proletariat was the class that had the right to survive, but it could survive only after it had fought and crushed the capitalistic class, as the sabre-toothed tiger had fought and crushed the dinosaur. So the Soviet was born in blood and has been nurtured in a fierce struggle of class against class.”

“I thought,” objected Osborne, “that socialism was really a unifying force. It is the bringing together of nations into one great party called theThird International.”

“Not of nations, but of classes within the nations. If the Protestant Revolt split the world into warring nations, the Third International has split the nations into warring classes. The first split was like a great chasm in a mountainside; the second split was like the division into strata. But it was a division just the same.

CULTURES, NOT CULTURE

“In time to come the historian of our age will look back and say of us that we were an age without culture.” “Now, Father,” protested Helen, “that’s not really fair. Few nations have been as cultured-” “Just a minute, please,” said the priest, smiling. “We have culture almost too numerous to mention. But we have no unifying culture distinguishing our era. Put together at any table the ten leading thinkers of the world, and you will find them representing ten distinct lines of thought. They will agree in almost nothing. And if their theories were all up in the air, concerned with purely academic questions, it wouldn’t much matter whether they agreed or tore out one another’s hair. But they agree not even in the most fundamental matters of the meaning of life, the purpose of existence, whether there is a God, and of what sort, the meaning of right and wrong, the power of the State.”

WHAT OF SCIENCE?

“I think,” Osborne objected, “that though I”m a man of the pen-”

“Typewriter, darling. No one could read your scrawl.”

“-the typewriter,” he continued, with a bow to his gentle corrector, “I have to stick up for science. Ours is a scientific culture, and that, surely, will bind the world together, as aviation does or radio or rapid transit from continent to continent.”

Father Hall shook his head in disagreement.

“Sorry,” he said, “but science has created no united culture for us. If it has done anything, it has agreed only on objective facts, the contents of a test tube, the distance between the stars. But in its theories explaining those facts or in the theories it deduces from those facts, science is at odds with itself on everything. And God knows what horrible instruments of destruction science placed in our hands for the last war and is placing for the next. There is no unified scientific philosophy in the world today. But there is unlimited scientific machinery to destroy life and wipe out cities and increase to staggering proportions the killing power of man.”

A TORN WORLD

The transition of plates from the main course to dessert was effected rapidly. The three sat silent, thinking intensely.

“Ah,” Father Hall continued in a lower voice, paying little heed to the fruit ice that melted in the glass before him, “God pity our disunited, torn, dismembered world. Nation against nation, class against class, colour against colour, sect warring on sect. Systematically since Luther sliced half of Europe away from the unity that is Rome and that half sliced itself into a score of discordant creeds or lack of creeds, Europe has divided itself, until now the nations stand on tiptoe, agreeing in nothing, loving and holding nothing in common, suspicious, envious, isolated yet surrounded by sworn and open enemies, poised so that the flicker of a feather would precipitate them into world chaos.

ONE FORCE REMAINS

“Look at them: Shall we be surprised that Japan clamours for the sovereignty of the Pacific, its militarists in power, when it sees all Christian Europe ready to spring into what may be suicide? France surrounded by a circle of steel and cement, and groaning with an unbalanced budget that it never can balance so long as it carries its terrific armies and air force. Russia with the world’s largest standing army and an only temporarily delayed policy of stirring up all the labouring classes of all the nations into class revolution. Germany clamouring for the right to arm in vengeance for its unforgotten, unforgiven defeat. Suspicion in every eye and a hand itching for sword or machine gun or the controls of aerial bomb carriers. And nothing on which we can bring them together in a common brotherhood or a sense of kinship. Nothing, except-”

He paused, stirred a lump of sugar into his coffee and gazed into the distance with rapt expression.

“Except what?” gently prodded Helen.

“Except, Helen, the power that during the twelfth century welded men together to such unity and cohesion that the war ratio sank to an all-time low of 2.7. There is now, as there was then, only one world-wide culture, only one binding force for the nations; it is what Christ referred to as “one fold and one shepherd”.”

“The Catholic Church,” Helen stated rather than asked.

“Just that,” the priest answered.

He paused for a sip of coffee and then went off at a momentary tangent.

“The other day, through the mail, I received a poster sent out by Bruce Barton. Know him?”

“Oh,” replied Fred, casually, “I know who he is. Advertising man, essayist, publicist-”

“‘The Man That Nobody Knows,’” interjected Helen.

WITH OUTSTRETCHED ARMS

“Well, not exactly,” the priest said, laughingly. “But the author of the book. He’s much concerned, as we all are these days, about world peace. His poster was a picture of Christ extending His arms out over a war-torn world, pleading for peace and unity.

“The picture had its inspiring elements and its elements of surpr ise. Christ, heaven knows, has been permitted little enough place in the making of wars, or peace either, during the last fifty years of bloody history. Christ has had little place in the literature that has been the dynamite blowing modern Europe into fragments. He has had little enough to say to those men who shape the destinies of nations, and who today sit as despots in twothirds of the world’s capitals. It was pleasant to bring Christ back into public relationships, even in a poster.

RECKONING

“But how little to blame Christ was for the torn and shattered world over which His sad eyes were looking. He never meant that His Church should be a thousand dissonant sects, all saying different things at the top of their lungs and doing different things at the top of their bent. He no more intended national churches than He intended that men should try to bring together all religions by eliminating what is important and essential in all of them. He prayed that “they might all be one as You, Father, and I are one.”

“Luther and Henry VIII. and John Knox and Gustavus Adolphus and Voltaire and Rousseau and Darwin and Huxley and Kant and Karl Marx and Ibsen and Nietzsche and Shaw and Lenin and Hitler will be asked some day by that Christ, no longer gentle, but a just judge, by what right they tore the nations into warring elements.

CENTRE OF UNITY

“Yet the presence of Christ in that poster was significant. In Him and only in Him is the centre of a world unity that can bind together the nations in a greater thing than nationalism.”

“Don’t you like the word nationalism?” asked Helen, almost in surprise.

“Like it?” said the priest, “I hate it. A patriot is a man who loves his country. A nationalist is a man who hates all countries but his own. Nothing can be built on hate but more hate. Anything constructive can be built on love. And a man who loves his country loves other countries, as a man who loves his mother loves other mothers for the sake of the mother who is his own.”

“I see,” and Helen’s voice was convinced.

“But, as I was saying,” the priest continued, “this turning back hopefully to Christ as the centre of unity and the hope of peace is important, provided Christ has left for us a means of unity and a hope of peace. He has. He gave it to the world long ago. During the rising tide of war, when civilization went crashing down under the iron-clad feet and the iron-shod hoofs of Teutonic invaders and their horses, the Church kept the elements of civilization in her bosom and restored, through them and through its unifying faith, Europe to that pre-Reformation idealism. Christ constituted His Church to teach all nations, to bind men together in a loyalty to Him, to keep them at peace through the realization that they are all sons of God and all brothers of the Saviour.

ELEMENTS OF PEACE

“Those elements that made for peace in the twelfth century exist in the Church today. If they were accepted by individuals and the nations, war would be practically impossible. As a man thinks, so he acts. As he believes, so he lives. And as the nations think and act, so are they governed in their dealings with their fellow-nations.

“There is the magnificent doctrine of the Mystical Body, for example. Have you ever heard of it?”

“I”m afraid not,” was the answer.

“It’s too long to explain now and too difficult and too beautiful. But in substance it is the greatest possible argument for unity and peace. Christ taught, and St. Paul, following Him, taught, that every Christian becomes, through baptism, a part of the Mystical Body, of which Jesus Christ is the head and all Christians are members. It is a magnificent concept, this welding together in a single unity of all Christian mankind, whatever race or colour or class may divide. But its consequences are startling. How dare one Christian, a member of the Mystical Body of Christ, make war on another Christian? Doesn’t he see what he is doing? He is striking at someone closer than a brother. His sword stroke is almost a form of suicide. For he is striking at one who is morally identified with himself in the Mystical Body of Christ.

“More than that, what he does to a fellow-Christian he does to Christ. His sword thrust, his levelled machine gun, his zooming aeroplane, passes through and beyond the body of the man he has slain and strikes at the heart of the world’s Saviour.

“As long as you did it to one of these My least brethren, you did it to Me.” “Saul, why persecute you Me?” The blows of Saul had been levelled at the early Christians; they passed through them to strike at Christ Himself.

BROTHERHOOD

“Th ere is no unity offered to humanity like this. No unity that can give men this sense of oneness and the absolute necessity for peace.

“But looking beyond the Christian world to the world of the unbaptized, the Catholic Church points out the universal sonship of the human race. God is not merely a creator; He is an all-merciful and provident Father. He created yellow and black and red quite as well as white; and in the Christian theory of the brotherhood of men under the fatherhood of God all men stand together children in His gracious sight. War becomes a kind of fratricide. I cannot strike at the life of my brother.

“Perhaps there is no place in the world where men are so closely united, so levelled to the common denominator of a beloved humanity and lifted to the same heights of divine condescension, as before the altar of a Catholic Church. The moment that Christ in the Eucharist enters the human heart it achieves a dignity and an elevation, a union through joint companionship that has all the symbolism of the banquet from which men rise no longer enemies but brothers of the common table. At the Communion table all men sink to a common depth of humility and rise to a common height of companionship with Christ, the Captain and Leader.

WORLD UNITY

“But those outside the Catholic Church know almost nothing of the continued unity that is Catholic. A Catholic is never a stranger in another country. Something that rises above the limits of nationality greets him. The same Christ is on the altar. The same Mass is offered in his presence. The same style of architecture fashions his church. In the same mellow love, the Sacraments, identical with those he knew at home, are conferred upon him (often in the same mellow Latin). He kneels at the side of German, Frenchman, Spaniard, East African, Chinaman, Indian, in a common act of worship and a common impulse of faith and hope.

“No wonder that it is the Church and only the Church today that has a world viewpoint and a world philosophy of life. When the rulers of the world speak, they address one people of one class. When the Pope speaks, he speaks with a world voice, addressing all the nations and all the people.

“While philosophies speak with stridently discordant voices, within the Catholic Church the Scholastic Philosophy speaks in common-sense voice with perfect unity of principles and perfect logic of application. And that philosophy once more rises above national and class lines and is a rule of thought and mode of life for all the people.”

A DIFFERENT PEOPLE

“That’s all interesting,” said Osborne with a new respect, but a decided note of questioning. “But I must say it is a very different picture from what I have been shown of the effect of Catholicity on the world.”

“I”ve not the slightest doubt of that,” the priest answered. “But were you equally surprised to find out that the world was most at peace in the twelfth century, when the world was most Catholic?”

“Yes,” admitted the young man, “I was:”

“Then don’t be surprised if there are other things as much against what you have been told. No group and no organization has been so caricatured as the Church; and no lies have ever been uttered more maliciously or more ignorantly than those against the faith and its effects on the world.

“CHAOS OR THE CHURCH.”

“But I am telling you that, as I see life, the choice from this point on is the Church or chaos. You can choose the one you wish. Seventy-five years of intensive science that deliberately excluded God, of national rapacity and class warfare. have developed us to a point where we are thousands of times as bloodthirsty as we were in solidly Catholic days. Our cultures, far from uniting us into a humanity one in idealism and one in purpose, have divided us into hostile, warring, suspicious, greedy, self-centred nations and individuals. And in all these cultures there is no principle on which the individuals and the nations can unite.

“But given the God of the Catholic faith, His fatherhood is inevitable and our brotherhood an immediate consequence. Given the Christ who called Himself the vine of which we are the branches, we are welded into this mystical unity with Him, becoming, as He prayed we would be, one flock with one shepherd. And through the Church flows to our minds that satisfying, convincing, beautiful unity of thought which is faith and philosophy, while to our hearts flows that unifying flood of grace that welds us into an ever closer unity. Permitting the widest freedom of endeavour and search, the Church yet gives the individual a sense of unity with all other individuals which forever destroys isolation and antagonism. While loving the patriot, the Church reminds him that humanity comes far and away before country, and that he can only love his own country safely and surely when he joins to that love an understanding of the love for those of other nations.

ONE WORLD CULTURE

“There is only one world culture, and that is Catholic.

“There is only one road to unity of minds and hearts, and that is the road indicated by Christ, who alone is the way, the truth, and the life.

“We have tried the other cultures and wandered the other roads, until we find ourselves today on the brink of what will, if it comes, be a war beyond all precedent or prophecy, with chaos and ruin at its ending. Can’t we turn back to the organization which not only claims to be able to unite men, in which there is neither Jew nor Greek, black nor white, slave nor free, but which, at the height of its power, almost succeeded in crushing all war from the earth?” The waiter brought back the change from the cheque, and Osborne waved it away absently. They rose and, after

Helen had slipped on her coat, walked together to the hotel entrance. The shadows were long on the streets and the sun was far down, but none of them noticed the time.

“AS YOU AND I”

“If you’re coming soon to town again, may we have this pleasure once more?”

“How about your running down to Lakeside the next time?”

“We may at that,” Helen replied. “We’re terrible barnacles once we are fastened on anyone we like.” “Not making the slightest effort to shake either of you;” the priest replied. “Come soon:”

And he swung off, leaving them standing just a little dazed on the sidewalk.

“Sounds grand,” said Osborne at last.

“Almost too incredible,” she replied. “Back to the office?”

“No, I”m knocking off.”

“Wonder what he is thinking about the two of us,” Osborne puzzled.

“Don’t try to guess,” she said, wisely knowing that they could not.

Perhaps they would not have understood how pointedly at them was addressed the fragment of prayer he uttered as he strode down the twilight street:

“I pray that they may be one, as You, Father, and I are one”

* * * * *

Jesuit Pioneers

A PAGE OF AUSTRALIAN MISSION HISTORY 1848–1901

BY VERY REV. AUSTIN KELLY, S.J

INDEX

JESUIT PIONEERS

To the lover of the few “antiquities” we have in Australia a visit to the wine country near Adelaide is well worth while. There, in the midst of sweetly undulating fields and sun-kissed vineyards, are “remains” that tell a story of ,great deeds of forgotten heroes. Today the motorist, as he speeds northwards from the beautiful “garden city,” little dreams that where now the broad North Road stretches straight before him, some eighty years ago a lonely Jesuit Missionary urged on his faltering horse through trackless bush seeking for the Highland shepherd’s hut or, more rare, for the few rude farm-houses of the Austrian settlers. And yet, if he only knew it, these woods and hills and vineyards could tell a story, quite unknown to most Australians, but worthy of an undying record in our history. Hidden in their midst, the modest buildings of roughhewn stone built by the Jesuit Missionaries, and their own silent graves, remind us today of these men, who left home and Fatherland and sailed away into the great Southern Sea to lay the foundation of God’s Church in this “lovely morning land.”

It was in the month of May, that I drove from Adelaide to the old Jesuit College at Sevenhill-a drive of some ninety miles through the autumn-tinted vineyards; and it was then that I longed to let others share with me the thrill I felt on hearing of the labours of the men who had toiled for fifty-three years ministering to the scattered Catholic population and founding a diocese to hand over to others when the time was ripe.

And here fortune came to my aid. For treasured in the old library in Sevenhill, in the original German, are the letters and relations of the early missionaries; and these were being translated by one of the Fathers residing there today. A few extracts from these, chosen here and there, will reveal, far better than anything else, the noble story of self-sacrifice and zeal.

Father Peter Sinthern, S.J., an Austrian, writing on the occasion of the Centenary of the restoration of his Province, begins his Memoir of the Mission in Australia with words that we may well echo today:

“On the 8th December, 1848, the first Jesuit Missionaries, two Austrian Fathers, set foot on Australian soil; in 1901 the last Austrian Superior handed over the Mission to his Jesuit brethren of the Irish Province; and returned to his Austrian homeland. Today, when missionary activities have everywhere received such a mighty impetus, it is certainly fitting that these 53 years’ work of the Austrian Jesuit Mission should be known to a wider circle. They fill a page of glory in the mission history of Austria, and of the Austrian Province of the Society of Jesus.”

Father Sinthern recalls the circumstances which led to the foundation of the Austrian Jesuit Mission:

“Founded in 1836, the colony (of South Australia) ten years later was already in a position to export a considerable amount of grain. The discovery of the copper mines at Kapunda and Burra-Burra gave a strong stimulus towards its further development. Great efforts were made to entice townsfolk, tradesmen, and farmers to emigrate to the colony from Germany and from England. Among the newcomers were a number of German Protestant families, who settled in the neighbourhood of Tanunda and Angaston. The good news sent home by these induced other Germans to follow in their footsteps, and the resolution to emigrate was made more easily in the midst of the confusion of 1848, the year of revolutions.

“A well-to-do Catholic of Silesia, Franz Weikert, allowed himself to be persuaded to act as the leader of a group of emigrants. He sold his large farm in order to be able to pay the passage money for all the group, a matter of £1000: there were to be none but Catholics among the company of travellers . . . Weikert, who was a thoroughly practical Catholic, did not wish to find himself and those who shared his destiny, without a priest in his new home. To secure a priest he approached the Superior of the St. Ludwig-Mission-Verein in Bavaria, the Reverend Hofkaplan Muller, of Munich, who referred him to the Provincial of the Austrian Jesuits, and thus it was that the Austrian Jesuits secured their Australian Mission. The General of the” Jesuits approved of the Mission, but insisted on two conditions, that not one, but two, Fathers should go, and that, as far as possible, they should remain together in Australia. It was at Innsbruck that the Provincial communicated the decision of the General to the assembled Fathers, and then asked who was ready to go. There was silence for a minute, and then a young Viennese, Father Max Klinkowstrom, came forward and said, ‘Ecce ego, mitte me.’ (Here am I, send me.) And he was sent. Then a second announced his readiness to go, a young man, Father Aloysius Kranewitter, a Tyrolese, who at his first Mass had begged God to send him wherever the need of priests was greatest. He was the second one chosen for the Mission.”

Actually it was this Father Kranewitter who was to be the real founder of the Jesuit Mission in Australia; he was born near Stams in the Tyrol on the 4th April, 1817. The beauty and the majesty of the mountains that nurtured the lofty spirit of Andreas Hofer, did not fail to inspire the soul of young Kranewitter, for when he had completed his studies in the Gymnasium of Meran, he felt drawn to consecrate his life to a great ideal, and entered the Novitiate of the Society of Jesus at Gratz in 1836. Until his ordination in 1848 his course was the usual one followed by the Jesuit Scholastics; he studied the Classics and then Philosophy; he taught for five years in the College at Innsbruck and began his theological studies, being ordained before their completion. Fr. Sinthern has told us of the petition he made to God at his first Mass- that he might be sent wherever priests were needed most-and it was answered with a promptness that must have exceeded his wildest expectation. In that very year, 1848, amidst the turmoil of universal revolution, the Jesuits were expelled from the Austrian Empire. Many sought refuge and a field to work in, far away in the missions of the United States and Canada and of South America, while the rest were dispersed among the provinces of Europe. It was at this opportune moment that God’s Providence caused Fr. Muller’s request for priests to reach the Austrian Provincial, Father James Pierling. As we have seen, Frs. Klinkowstrom and Kranewitter responded promptly to his call for volunteers, and they joined Weikert’s party.

“ . . The good ship ‘Alfred,’ “ continues Father Sinthem, “took all the travelling companions on board at Hamburg on the 15th August, 1848, the Feast of the Assumption of Our Lady. On the next great feast of Mary, the Feast of the Immaculate Conception, the 8th December, at Adelaide, the first Austrian Missioner set foot for the first time on the Australian soil.”

Fortunately, Father Aloysius Kranewitter was a good letter-writer, and the story of the early days of the Mission is best told in the letters he wrote to his Provincial at home in Austria:

THE VOYAGE

Not only for the sake of the interesting matter they contain, but particularly because they throw some light on the man that was coming to Australia, it will be worth while to give some extracts from a letter dealing with the voyage. The letter is his first to his Provincial, written 10th June, 1849:

“The whole sea voyage comes back to me like an unpleasant dream, the remembrance of which brings little that is joyful, for nothing is more disagreeable than to be tossed for months on end on the wide desert sea, which one has already been gazing on to satiety. Certainly one learns from experience more than from a thousand books, but the study is painful . . . On the 15th August our ship left Hamburg harbour, and on the 19th we left the mouth of the Elbe. We were hardly floating on the waves of the sea before its almost magic power displayed itself. In about an hour nearly half the passengers were afflicted with sea-sickness. Our course lies by the Gulf Stream and the Trade Winds towards Rio de Janeiro, then we make for the Cape of Good Hope, and from there direct to Adelaide with the West Trade Winds, which always blow more strongly toward the South. The reckoning is about 90 to 100 days to Port Adelaide. On the 20th August, as we sailed past Heligoland, a Danish frigate, which lay at anchor off the south of the Elbe, caught sight of us. She at once set after us with full sail. But as she had seen us a little too late, and was stationed north of the island, though she exerted herself for an hour, she could not overtake us, and at 1 P.M. regretfully she turned back on her course.

“On the 23rd I had to baptize a child of Protestant parents; and the day before, after I had blessed it, a child was plunged into the depths of the stormy waves. At 12 o’clock that night I was called to the bedside of another child struggling with death. It was carried off with convulsions next day. The last day of our first month out, we had the misfortune to discover that in our cabin there were some who were practically nothing but Christian pagans. An historical discussion which occurred at table revealed the fact. One of our cabin mates declared that quite a number of historical assertions had as little truth in them as the Bible itself. This declaration naturally led to others, and it became quite plain that those unfortunate men had long suffered ship-wreck in matters of faith. On another occasion one of these gentlemen maintained that, were the Catholic religion logically consistent in all its teachings, real belief would not be found any more among its members; the Protestants were already taught in their schools to cast off all belief. I was ready to argue with him on this matter, after I had instructed him as to what faith and religion really was; we could not engage in any argument regarding religion unless that were clearly settled.

“The 2nd October was a Sunday, the Feast of the Guardian Angels. It was the first day on which we were able to preach on deck to our ship’s company, consisting of Catholics, Protestants, Jews and Christian heathens. After that, my companion, Father Max Klinkowstrom, preached every Sunday when the weather was fine and the sea calm, and he was always sympathetically listened to. I had time on my hands in abundance to cast my thoughts back to you and all my beloved friends at Innsbruck, to my homeland, and those dear to me there. Hardly a night passed that I did not dream that I was just as near to you as I really was far away, and with every minute was going farther away from you all. Still this was not home-sickness, nor regret, nor a longing to go back again; it was simply a painful feeling deep down in the soul.

“On the 11th October we stood before Rio’s lovely harbour. The finest art could not produce a more beautiful picture. On the right and on the left at its entrance rocky heights rise up, separated only by a narrow strait, the veritable pillars of the harbour fashioned by Nature itself. On each side, on three terraces strong forts frown, with 30 cannon on each terrace. Our three-master ran up the German flag and the favouring breeze soon brought her between two lines of forts. We were questioned as to who we were and where we came from. The German flag had not yet been seen in these waters; so we had to declare this also. Then a cannon from the left-hand fort announced our arrival . . . A general permission was given for us to land. Of course we availed ourselves of the opportunity. Four negroes rowed us ashore. Rio is a city of 190,000 inhabitants, of whom about two-thirds are blacks. These do all the hard labour, for it is considered a disgrace for a white man even to carry anything through the streets of Rio; you see blacks in swarms loaded like beasts of burden, and they sing a howling kind of alternating chant as they haul things along. It is a doleful sight. Our first trip was to a German hostel, and the first thing we asked for was fruit. They brought us oranges and Musa paradisiaca (Bananas. Translator’s note). These last were a novelty to us. They are round and long in shape, not unlike very long potatoes, about three to four inches in length, of a dark-yellow colour when ripe, with a skin about the thickness of the back of a knife, light and soft; the fruit is rather mealy, with little juice, but with a very pleasant flavour. It is quite a common fruit here.

“We had a pleasant surprise when we met the only German priest to be found in the whole of Brazil, who happened to be here at the time. He is called Reis, and comes from Vienna. He was formerly a Redemptorist, but of late years—he has been settled in the neighbourhood of Rio, about 10 miles from the city, and he comes, from time to time, to town for the confessions of the large number of German Catholics who live in Rio. He was very kind and obliging to us, and was able to give us reliable information about religious conditions here. We were not a little shocked by the picture he drew for us, and if he were not a priest we would not have believed half of what he told us. There is a general indifference and neglect in matters of religion, though there are four or five religious houses in the city, and the Italian Capuchins on a hill near the city are real men of God. He recommended a visit to these last, but it was too late to do so that evening, as we had to stay the night in the German hostel. Later in the day, however, we visited the Church of the Carmelites, where there were devotions in honour of St. Theresa. But little was the devotion we found there! When we entered the brightly-lit church, it, was like going into a cafe; people stood in groups engaged in open conversation, while loud music of a very inferior type resounded from the choir. Hardly anyone knelt, except some few, these mostly negroes, at the communion rail. The next morning, in nasty weather, we visited the Capuchin Fathers. Our route led up to a pretty hill, one of four in the city, on three of which are the homes of religious. The one to which we climbed rose in terraces, and I could see on it a small church with two towers, on the left of which was a large building like a monastery. I thought this must be where the Fathers lived whom we were going to visit, but the church was shut up, and all around I saw Brazilian soldiers. I was told I must go on further. Finally I found a second small church on the very top of the hill and a new building beside it; this was what I sought. I was received very kindly, and I had the great delight of saying Mass once more. The little Italian that I knew proved very useful to me in making myself understood by the Father Superior. His whole appearance was ‘one of kindliness, piety and mortification, and when I told him who we were he invited us to stay with him. Nothing could have been more welcome to us, and even yet, whenever I think of it, there comes vividly back to my memory, standing there on its hill, the little monastery and church where we were so courteously received. I shall never forget the kindness of these sons of St. Francis; only God in His charity can repay them for it. The Capuchin Fathers have a residence in Rio which they recruit with subjects from Italy. There are four priests and a lay brother there at present, distinguished by the poverty and simplicity everywhere found among the Franciscans, and most kind and obliging. My companion (Father Max) was suffering from a severe ear-ache and had to keep his bed. But the kindness of the Fathers made it possible for me to visit the city on several occasions.

The streets are very dirty; they have pavements at the side, but one is in constant danger of tripping on them, as they are so badly built and full of holes. The houses are all low-lying, only a few two stories high, so that with its large population the city is spread out over a large area. It has hardly any note-worthy buildings. There is a museum, but it is badly arranged, and has only a small collection. Near the entrance are two wire cages in which are kept Brazilian snakes of about 12 feet long; most of the Portuguese do not go any further than these, and they seem to take the greatest pleasure in teasing the poor beasts with little sticks. The way to and from the town always took me past that little church, so that I naturally was anxious to have a closer view of it. I found that it had once had a building attached to it at one side, and this had either been pulled down or fallen down in decay. The stones that lay round about showed that it had been a building with a broad pillared entrance. The church, of no great size to look at, had two little towers over the entrance, and over the door was a date, 1565, and a little above the date the word “Jesus.” You can imagine what I conjectured from this. And my conjectures were confirmed by what I learnt from the Capuchin Fathers.

It was the first and the last residence of the Society of Jesus in Rio, the church itself built perhaps by Father Anchieta. It was the most beautiful site that Blessed Anchieta could have chosen for a residence. Built on a terrace on the hillside, the building had one of the best positions in Rio; in front was a fine view of the beautiful harbour and the whole city, and behind was a fertile slope suitable for a nice garden. But now the church is closed-there are left now in Brazil only two establishments of the Jesuits, away in the interior, the nearest being S. Catarina, 40 miles from Rio. How gladly would I have flown there! But the time was too short; we had to be on board ship by next Sunday evening.

“It was the Sunday of the dedication of the church, the Feast of St. Theresa, and I was delighted to be able to say Mass still on that day, the best way in the circumstances of celebrating the dedication. That Sunday we had our last meal with the Fathers. My colleague was so much better that he was in a condition to continue the voyage. As the time for our departure approached, the good Fathers did not wish to let us go, and wanted us to stay longer with them; my colleague should first completely recover from his illness. We excused ourselves by saying that our destination was Australia; the Fathers undertook to get us berths on another ship, and even to pay for them! Surely the argument that we could not leave our own people unaided was sufficient to persuade us not to go away yet? This was a plea that had its attractiveness indeed. We could visit our brothers at S. Catarina, we could see Brazil with its primitive forests, we could recreate ourselves by a pleasant journey, we could stay for a time with people so worthy of a visit, and perhaps we could do quite an amount of good work among the many Germans to be found in Rio and elsewhere! But our call was further afield. We had quite a tender leave-taking, and the kind Fathers were moved to tears at our departure.”

On the Feast of the Immaculate Conception of Our Lady, the 8th December, 1848, Father Kranewitter and his companions landed at Port Adelaide.

“ALL NEW AND UNKNOWN TO US.”

“On the 4th December we heard the cry, ‘Land! Land!’ and could you describe the emotions in the hearts of all of us at the cry? It was Kangaroo Island that lay straight in front of us. On the 5th December we lay in the Outer Harbour of Adelaide; we had still to go up a narrow bight to reach Port Adelaide, the harbour of South Australia proper. This inlet of the sea follows a serpentine course inland for about two English miles and the water is very shallow. A good tide and wind are necessary to sail up it, and often a ship must lay in wait for eight days for a favourable chance. We reached Adelaide on the 8th December, having left Hamburg on the 15th August.

“Having more than enough of ship life, we seized the first opportunity of landing. We were fortunate enough to be able to do this in the afternoon. A launch lay alongside the ‘Alfred’ and its pilot agreed to bring the passengers to land at a reasonable price. At four o’clock Father Klinkowstrom and I, Mr. Weikert and three other of our company, stood on Australian soil; in front lay a broad stretch of deep sea and behind was a plain bounded by hills covered with green trees stretching right across in bow shape from side to side. The first thing we noted was the sand with its mussels and cockles, and then the plant life, all new and unknown to us. Not a shrub, plant nor tree like those at home, except perhaps the red stock-kith-flower that grew wild in the sand ridges.

“Adelaide is situated about two German miles inland, hackney-coaches ply constantly between the harbour and the city, and these brought us there by eight o’clock in the evening. It was only after much trouble that we found the ‘Catholic Chapel,’ and the residence of the Bishop, as well as that of the Right Reverend Dr. Backhaus.

CLARE VILLAGE

“Great was our joy to have reached the goal of our voyage, and it was a great consolation to us to have completed the journey on the Feast of the Immaculate Conception of the Blessed Virgin, and on the next day to be able to say Holy Mass again after such a long interruption. Weikert, a simple, honest- countryman, the father of eight children, and a fervent Christian, leased a piece of land about 60 miles north of Adelaide, near a little hamlet called Clare Village. Most of the inhabitants of the village are Irish Catholics, and they have built a small church, which the Bishop will consecrate soon. Since I, as far as the languages go, could help at the same time the German family of Weikert and the Irish Catholics, I decided to accompany him. The Bishop approved of the plan. He thanked Weikert for bringing us with him, and commissioned me to give especial attention to the German Catholics, who live scattered about the country. I was to visit them and often go the rounds of my district, and if at any place there was a good many living together he would secure me an altar stone and Mass vestments for them; up to the present, owing to the scarcity of priests who could take care of them, often, for a very long time they had had no opportunity of attending to their religious duties, and this put many of them in danger of losing their faith. I very gladly undertook this task and on the 14th December (1848) I set off with Weikert for Clare Village.

“It was midsummer, all the grass was dried up with the heat and the sun burnt fiercely, though the heat of it was tempered by a slight cool breeze. Even in our own Tyrol it is more fatiguing to travel on foot in the summer heat than it is here. The heat is not so oppressive, since it is freshened by a prevalent sea breeze, and heavy dew falls every night, although often for months on end there is not a drop of rain. On the 20th we arrived at Clare Village, and took up our residence in a perfectly new house which an Irish Catholic had built on a section of land a little off the road in a low-lying valley.

“As people speak here it is a ‘large house,’ though it is only one story high with five rooms and no windows. Though this dwelling seemed to us mean and narrow, it was the best in the neighbourhood, and its pretty setting, together with the pleasant mildness of the climate, made it quite a tolerable place to live. We found the church only half finished, and so I had to hold Divine Service on Sundays and Feast Days in the house of an Irishman. I could not start on my rounds as soon as I should have wished, for the winter rains came on too soon, and I had no horse at my disposal. I have now remedied that defect, and next week I hope, under the protection of the most Blessed Virgin after the Feast of her Assumption, which I intend to celebrate here, to begin my first mission journey. May the Holy Mother and our loving Father Ignatius secure blessings from heaven for the enterprise.”

FAILURE OF A GREAT SCHEME

Despite the courageous vein of this letter, we notice already that Weikert’s noble enterprise had ended in failure. True, Australia must be ever grateful to him for the splendid Catholics of Austrian stock that have since played such an important part in the Catholic life of South Australia, but his scheme, on which he had spent his small fortune, was to create a wholly Catholic settlement, with the farms of the Catholics lying about their church and, I suppose, on every farm one of those wayside shrines so dear to Austrian Catholics. He was to be bitterly disappointed. The party he had brought out scattered, and that explains why Fr. Kranewitter finds himself ministering to a widely dispersed flock from the house of an Irishman. Weikert, once a wealthy landowner, had to be content to lease land, and to struggle to make ends meet.

What was Father Kranewitter to do? He consulted the Bishop of Adelaide, Dr. Murphy, who arranged that Father Klinkowstrom should stay in Adelaide, but that Father Kranewitter should go north with Weikert and his family and share their home, making of it a centre from which he could sally forth to attend to the spiritual needs of the Catholics scattered thinly in the surrounding country. He became, indeed, a shepherd, who had to go in search of his flock. As he had no horse, nor money to buy one, he travelled on foot, seeking for his fellow-emigrants. He found many of them settled near Angaston and east of Gawler, some fifty miles from Clare Village.

“On the first Sunday of the month I pay a missionary visit to the German settlements. My congregation is as yet very small. I have found about forty Catholics, who live in the midst of bitter Protestants and hardly dare to profess their faith. However, a change for the better is apparent. Protestants are becoming more tolerant and the Catholics come regularly to Mass, wherever it is said, even from a distance of eight or ten miles.”

Father Kranewitter’s companion, Father Max Klinkowstrom, after but a few months’ labour among the Catholics in Adelaide, was compelled by ill-health to return to Europe.

“My companion, Father Max Klinkowstrom, remained in Adelaide to attend to the spiritual needs of the German Catholics in the city; he carried out this duty conscientiously until he was compelled to return to Europe. The climate of Australia was quite unsuitable for him, and the doctor in Adelaide, Dr. Bayer, a German, told him that the Australian sun played havoc with such as have trouble with the liver, that it was like poison for him, and that he must go back. Violent head pains and diarrhoea had nearly brought about his death already. On the 17th March, 1849, as an English ship sailed that day for London, he took ship back to Europe. God in His love so arranged matters that the news of his departure reached me at the same time that your letter to me arrived.”

Happily, Father Kranewitter was not left alone for very long, for in the month of April, 1849, two Jesuit Lay-brothers, Brothers Schreiner and Sadler, arrived in Australia to help him in his Mission.

A REVIEW OF THE MISSION

“I received your letter before Holy Mass, and at once recognized the handwriting of the address, but did not open it then. I, first seeing myself left so deserted in union with the Holy Sacrifice, united my will with that of the all-beneficent God. After Mass I opened the let-ter and what a surprise I had! I am not to be left alone; for your letter informed of the arrival in the near future of two helpers from Europe. Think with what delight I devoured the lines of your dear script full of fatherly affection. Was it not the merciful providence of God that brought together the sad departure of my dear companion and the consoling news of the near arrival of two others! How happy I was to see good Brothers Schreiner and Sadler arrive here in April, quite hale and hearty, just at the time that we needed hands for our work! We are building on to our house a hut which will serve as a sleeping-compartment for the two newcomers; they are now having plenty of hard work and much discomfort; but soon things will be better and their work will be richly rewarded: I have made a contract with Weikert to share with him for some years labour and attention to the property and profits, expenses and receipts. Our neighbour, who has a lease of the better part of the block of land on which we live is going back to Adelaide and has handed over to us his small house and his lease under very favourable terms. And so we have living accommodation which is sufficient for our means, though not attractive in appearance, and sufficient income to live on. For this year then we have two pieces of land for cultivation and so are quite safe financially. We intend to keep house with Weikert for two years, and meanwhile look round for an opportunity and then buy from the Government a fertile piece of land in a good position. If this plan is not unpleasing to God and has His blessing, I am quite sure that it will prosper. Unless I am much mistaken, in four years I should be in the position to send you the passage money for those who would be pleased to come to us, especially if you would send us some more helpers, for labour is very costly here. These should not look for easy conditions at first, and must be ready for hard work; but, as I said before, labour reaps a quick profit here.

“Make whatever arrangements seem best to you, and let us know of your intentions. With my heart full of gratitude I kiss your hands for sending me here, and for the help that you have sent me too. If it should please you to make any changes in our disposition, or send us anywhere else, we would gladly exert ourselves to obey the slightest indication of your wishes; if we should receive further helpers it would be an inexpressible consolation. Meanwhile, we act according to the first suggestions you gave us, making no change, which was to aim at securing a good piece of land with fertile soil, and to set our good brothers to cultivate it.

“You might think that this country is almost over-supplied with priests, seeing that a Bishop and ten priests have charge of a Catholic population of only about 4000 souls; but that is not so at all. South Australia is a colony in process of very fast development. The first settlers only came here about 10 years ago, and already the population has grown to 40,000. Every month ships come from England with immigrants, and every year from Germany, and of the immigrants a small number set themselves up in the city, while the greater number settle on the land.

If the growth in population continues I shall soon need priests for a college. Any helpers who are coming to us or intend to come in the future should bring with them, above all things, all that is needed for Sung Mass. We have a small church without a tabernacle or altar pictures, and, except for the set of Mass Vestments that I brought with me; there are hardly any serviceable ones to be got.

“I shall now tell you something about the financial side of our farming. All the soil is wonderfully fruitful here. The first year, without any help from manure, it produces a very fine crop of wheat. A section of land such as the immigrants usually buy or lease here is 100 acres, forming a square, so that each acre runs for 200 feet in both directions. The work of cultivating a piece of new land is certainly hard and constant, but the return is great; to take an example, a ton of potatoes costs £10, or 100 florins of English money, and a good acre gives a return of five to six tons, and often eight to nine. A ton of oaten hay is worth £5. Wheat is, at the least, always a profitable crop, good land giving 20 to 30 bushels (a bushel is equivalent to a tyrolese staar) per acre, and a bushel of wheat is sold for 3/- The climate is extremely mild, so that the keeping of cattle practically costs nothing, as they can be let run freely on the pasture lands during the whole of the year without the need of Stalls for shelter; you only ‘have to milk the cows Morning and evening in an enclosure of some kind. It is winter here now, but it is little different from a summer in the Tyrol. On the coldest day we have had there was some ice in the morning; but the sun soon made it melt. The winter here merely serves to provide the soil with moisture so that it may be in a condition to produce its various types of fruit. One finds practically no fruit growth here, but whatever one plants and cultivates gives a good crop, especially vines and Southern European fruit trees. No-one, then, will have a reason to regret tilling this soil. But whoever expects to find everything here already will be bitterly disappointed. Hence it is necessary to bring with one house and land implements, and seeds of all kinds.

“As regards the black natives living here, they are, in a word, just grown-up children. They are swarming at this moment all around our house with a number of scraggy-looking dogs; but as I can make nothing yet of their language, I am not in a position to announce the Gospel to them. They are very like our gipsy folk in Europe in appearance, and the only beggars in the country. I intend to write some more about them in my next letter, when I have got to know them better myself, and also after I have learnt more about them from the German Catholics whom I shall meet on my mission round. It is possible to send letters to Europe every month from Australia now, and there are prospects of a fast steamship service between Australia and Europe; I would make good use of this for sending letters.”

In one of these promised letters Fr. Kranewitter can report some spiritual progress and even begins to hope that South Australia may one day rival America in extensive Catholic settlements, but he still finds it hard to hold out much prospect of speedy success with the blacks.

NEW HOPES AND AMBITIONS

“Our little house, of split tree trunks bound together, with a roof of thatch, has only two rooms, but all the same we three live in it with a German doctor quite satisfactorily. We are living about half a mile from Clare in a delightful valley, quite alone, in peaceful isolation, Brothers Sadler and Schreiner are active at work on the farm, I see to the spiritual ministrations for all of us, and every first Sunday make a missionary visitation to the German settlements. My flock here is certainly a small one, but in the German villages I have already found more than fifty Catholics. The poor people are planted in the midst of Protestants of a fanatical and pietistic stamp, and hardly have the courage to proclaim themselves openly as Catholics. But already much of that has been changed. The Protestants do not dare to mock so constantly as they used to do at the Catholic Church, and a young man who through cowardice had allowed himself to be taken up by one of their congregations came back after my third visit to his good mother the Catholic Church. I find the good people most zealous in their attendance at Mass, and although many live two or three leagues from the house in which I say Mass, they are always most regular in attendance, and the delight that they always show at having their spiritual director once more with them, is always a rich reward for the tiring journey. I travel about 30 leagues to these people, and on the way I rarely meet a soul, and still more rarely a human habitation; and as one finds here instead of fresh springs and murmuring brooks, only now and then a tank of collected rain water, the heat of the sun and the thirst is very trying during one’s travels. . . .

“This so far is the scope of my missionary work. It is a small beginning, but in the course of time we may easily advance much further than that. This rests largely with my superiors and depends on the hidden designs of eternal Providence. The colony is in process of growth and the number of its mines are a guarantee of abiding prosperity. It is probable that the number of German Catholics will soon greatly increase, and what has been done in America may soon be accomplished in South Australia too; to say nothing of the aboriginals the conversion of whom will give work for us to do of no small magnitude. All the attempts made on them by the Protestants of the various sects have so far proved useless.

The conversion of our blacks will always remain a difficult and repulsive task here; for all the evil conditions that men found among the lowest tribes in America are to be found amongst these people. They have no fixed place of abode, but wander over the country in small groups, they are divided into many different tribes, they either have no chiefs or have little respect for them, they are not at all numerous, and yet every second hundred of them will have their own peculiar language; so little is the idea of a Supreme Being developed amongst them that you would hardly credit their ignorance. They are not of evil disposition, you would rather say that they are of a kindly nature; they are not a warlike race, and in general are devoid of any outstanding sign of real character. They shun work like lazy children and for a little bit of work they want ‘Plenty to eat’; but in spite of all this I believe that a missioner of the True Church would not work without profit among them.”

Inscrutable are the ways of Divine Providence. Reading these lines of the Jesuit Missioner eighty years after he penned them, we wish that his dream of a great and populous Catholic land had come true. But he had not reckoned with the greed and folly of men. The poor aboriginals are gone, and gone because unchristian men denied them the right to live and refused to them the civilizing message of Christian Truth. Gone also are the prosperous German villages because the call of the “accursed gold” lured the simple farmer from his vine-garlanded cottage to the reeking “diggings” of Victoria.

Bitter, indeed, are the thoughts of what might have been but for the folly and the greed of men.

TWO GREAT PLANS

The struggle for very existence which absorbed so much of the missionaries’ time, must have caused Father Kranewitter to chafe at the slow development of their spiritual work. Two plans he had at heart, with which he hoped to lay the foundations of an enduring apostolate; firstly, he wished to form a purely Catholic settlement with its church and school, and secondly, he longed to establish a College of the Society of Jesus. To realize both these projects he prayed and worked, and, thanks to his trust in God and his courage and foresight, realize them both he did, before he was recalled to Europe in 1856. He writes to his Provincial on 2nd May, 1850:

“I have just made my mission visitation of the German settlements for the first Sunday in April, after which I went on about 30 English miles to Adelaide to pay a visit to an old Catholic lady and her daughter who arrived in Australia about four months ago to strengthen their Faith, which had met with various strong trials; I got back on the second Sunday to the station where I always say Mass on that day. A few minutes before I began, a letter from overseas was handed to me, sent to my address by Dr. Backhaus. What a delightful surprise it was to receive a letter from Your Reverence! I opened the envelope-there were two enclosures-and in one of them two most valuable money bills. This was quite beyond my expectations. At once the thought flew to my mind-Is it the passage money? I did not read the letters then, but laid them quietly together, and first at the Mass that I was on the point of celebrating I availed myself of the opportunity of begging God to make me fully resigned to whatever the letter might bring me. After my devotions I could not wait long before opening the letter I was longing so much to read. You could not easily realize the effect that your beloved writing and your fatherly words had on me under the circumstances in which I was, still less could I put it in words. We send you our most heart-felt thanks for the generous gift of all that the letter contained. We shall consider it as a treasure entrusted to us, and make use of it in the very best way we can. As I was not more than 50 English miles from Adelaide, I decided to make the most of my opportunity and to return to Adelaide, to cash the draft, to have an interview with the Bishop, Dr. Murphy, and communicate the whole matter to him, and to find out from him in person what way I might act most in accordance with his wishes, so that I should be able to send you news at once about the matter. What an improvement has been made in our affairs in the course of a year Your Reverence will already have seen from my other letter. We are in such a fortunate condition that very soon we may hope to have a proper German Mission Station; what our hampered circumstances have so far made impossible, will certainly be a reality in the course of a year, if God so wills. Most of the German settlers that I visit at present on my rounds are to be found in a place which is very unprofitable to them, where they settled on their first arrival, owing to their ignorance of the condition of the land. All this can be remedied now .at one stroke. It is quite easy to secure land of a better quality under favourable conditions. A good piece of land can be rented by them in common, with right of purchase, and be settled with good practising German Catholics, and in this way we shall have our first independent settlement. I do not yet see clearly how it will all work out in detail, but I am quite certain that it will come. It would be better to choose a place at some distance from the city. All this will shortly be decided upon, and I shall not delay to send you news of the result. The Bishop quite approves of the plan, and will himself contribute to its realization. May we not hope that at this spot a fire may be kindled from which the torch of Christianity may be lit to spread the Truth to the Interior of this quite unknown part of the world? Were not our Fathers the first to penetrate into the inner heart of other parts of the earth? Would that I should be one of these missioners!”

SUCCESS

Writing on 29th January, 1851, he relates how he has been successful in the preliminary negotiations for the two projects he had so much at heart.

“About six miles from here, where the range of hills on which Clare lies, opens out on to a wide plain, there is to be found, clinging closely to the hills, a fine stretch of land, quite level and open, without trees or rocks, about a square mile in area. Without any further preparation the farmer could drive his plough into the soil at one end and run his furrow unhindered to the other. Two deep ditches which in winter carry the water from the hills away from the level ground bound the spot to south and north and conceal copious springs of fresh water, where they run from the recesses in the hill, and which are called “gullies.” Your Reverence will realize that I quickly made up my mind, and I had good reasons too. For over the whole wide stretch from here to Adelaide, to east and west, no better site was offered. The two springs are above all quite a triumph for a settlement in South Australia, where springs which give unfailing sweet water are rare indeed . . .

“A beginning has been made to secure a property, and a fine one at that, for our Society. . By a most fortunate chance, or, rather, by the kindly disposition of Divine Providence, it came about that one of the finest sections in the neighbourhood, a little way from the road, appeared on the horizon. . . . I met an agent, who told me of a piece of land that was good, and which could be leased for £2 per acre with right of purchase and £14 to £20 rent. These were the easiest conditions I have so far heard of; and so we went off together to see the place. He brought me to an allotment no more than two miles from here, a Section over which I had already walked with the deepest longings that one day we might call it our own. I had hardly the patience to walk around it from corner to corner, and hardly had we finished our walk than I blurted out: ‘I will take it.’ Delighted with my find I hurried home, almost at a trot, and there was waiting for me a letter full of kindness from your fatherly hand. Is it not remarkable that Your Reverence’s letters nearly always arrive at an important phase of our life in Australia? The dear companions, who with such courage and generosity have received their mission to far-off Australia, will now, if God so wills, find things better.”

Father Kranewitter, it is true, even early in his Mission work, experienced many disappointments and saw the promise of failure, nevertheless he planned and prayed with his eyes fixed on a glorious future. His letters home show him as a man of God and as a shrewd and prudent man of affairs; to his foresight we owe the founding of the German and Polish settlement at Sevenhill and the College and lands that gave stability to the Jesuit Mission and served as a spiritual centre from which radiated through the South the life-giving light of the Faith.

“As I told you before, we bought a piece of land on which to found a permanent station, and here again I must say that God in His loving Providence has blessed our plan and prospered it. . . . The Mission now owns 700 acres of land of which a part is overgrown with stout gum trees, while a part consists of rich soil suitable for tilling and pasture, but most of all for the planting of vines.

‘‘What a beautiful place for a college!” said a Protestant on a visit to us, rightly guessing, even though he was not a prophet, at the thoughts which we, however, had not yet openly expressed. The fine healthy position of the place beside a spring of water which one so rarely finds in Australia marks it off as especially appropriate for such a purpose and one could hardly undertake anything more profitable to the good cause in Australia than the opening of a college to train up men in the true Catholic spirit.

“But in these times when the hire of labour is so costly, since the discovery of gold mines, when one must give an ordinary labouring man £50 a year and his keep, and pay a bricklayer 14/- for a day’s work, building is not to be lightly undertaken. But, when in the second half of 1855, as we had expected, the price of labour became more moderate, we set our hands to the work in God’s Name, and started to build a house to satisfy our immediate pressing needs, and to accommodate a few pupils.”

Now that the opening of a Jesuit College was assured Fr. Kranewitter could pause to take a breath, and his superiors decided that it would be a breath of his native air. In October, 1852, there had joined Fr. Kranewitter one who was to become the best known and best loved priest in South Australia, Father Joseph Tappeiner. This heroic missionary at first, owing to his as yet imperfect knowledge of the English language, restricted his labours to the German population, while Father Kranewitter attended the distant stations and looked after the Irish Catholics in Clare, the Burra, Undalya and Saddleworth. From 1853 to 1855, Father Tappeiner visited regularly Tanunda, Adelaide and Bomburnie.

Father John Pallhuber arrived in the beginning of 1856. He was destined to do strenuous work as a missionary, for which he had been prepared by a seven years’ residence in, the Province of Maryland, U.S.A. His arrival made possible the recall of Fr. Kranewitter, who left Sevenhill on March 28th, 1856, to proceed to Austria for the completion of his theological studies and the making of his third year of probation. Of his recall Father Kranewitter writes:

“In November, 1855, my fellow-worker, Father Tappeiner, made his first mission journey 100 English miles to the north, and visited afterwards all the scattered Catholics of German speech south of here. At Christmas he stayed in Adelaide to assist in the work there. On his return he brought the news that my successor, Father Pallhuber, sent by our superiors, had arrived in Adelaide from North America. My orders were to return to Europe to complete my studies and prepare for my profession. On the 28th March on board an English ship I was carried out on to the high seas once more; we rounded Cape Horn, and under the loving protection of God reached London after a voyage of 100 days. At the beginning of August, 1856, I stood once more on thy native soil, which I had left eight years before.”

In 1859 Father Kranewitter returned to Australia, where he worked on the South Australian Mission until 1870, when he was sent to take care of the German Catholics in Melbourne. For ten years as a member of the Jesuit Community at St. Ignatius,’ Richmond, he discharged this duty faithfully, winning for himself universal esteem. The “History of the Society of Jesus in Australia” says of him:

“A model religious, cheerful, exact in all details of duty, of tender piety and gentle as a child, he was beloved by his penitents, who made it their mission to induce others to choose him as confessor. A wetting received during a visit which he paid to a, country district to say Mass and administer the Sacraments, brought on an illness which affected his lungs, and consumption caused his death in less than a year. He removed for change of air a few days before he died to Heidelberg, a village near Richmond. On the day of his death he asked by telegram to be relieved from the obligation of reciting the Divine Office. He also sent word that he felt much weaker, but thought there was no necessity for any Father to Visit him just then. As he grew worse he was urged to have another telegram sent, but he shook his head, saying, ‘God is good, He will take care of me.’ His trust in the Divine goodness was not in vain; for as soon as the first message reached Richmond, Father Mulhall determined to go at once to Heidelberg. He did so, and on entering the sick man’s room, the latter exclaimed: ‘Thanks be to God that you are here.’ A short time afterwards Father Kranewitter died. It was the 25th August, 1880.”

The College of St. Aloysius, Sevenhill, founded by Father Kranewitter, was therefore the first Jesuit College in Australia. For thirty years it struggled against difficulties of every kind, the great distance from any centre of population, the scattered nature of the Catholic stations and the lack of funds, until finally in 1886, when the colleges in other States were opened, it was closed. It became, what it is today, the Church and Residence of St. Aloysius.

We must not forget, however, that in spite of its chequered career, nearly 400 pupils had passed through its classes during these 30 years, and some of these achieved distinction in after life. One of the first pupils was Julian Tenison Woods, afterwards so well known as a priest and scholar.

For a time Sevenhill served as the Novitiate of the Society of Jesus, and in 1866 there came to St. Aloysius’ College to enter the Society, Thomas O’Brien, a native of Sydney, the first Australian to enrol under the banner of St. Ignatius. It is interesting to note that as Father Thomas O’Brien he was the last Rector of the old College when it closed its doors in 1886.

In the meantime, as year by year missioners arrived from Europe, the work of spreading the Gospel went forward steadily: from the rough stone fortress at Sevenhill the “White Horsemen of Christ,” as so many valiant knights, sallied forth bearing the Standard of the Cross, preaching, teaching, healing and by their selfless lives winning the love of the simple pioneers and kindling in their hearts the love of Christ. Churches and schools and stations they raise as they push farther and farther into the unknown, following in the wake of the intrepid settlers. I cannot name them all, but just a few to show how far-flung and how thorough was the work of these Jesuit Missioners: Mintaro, the musical Spanish of its name recalling the rapture of the muleteers as they drove their teams on to the mines at Burra-Burra; Tanunda with its glorious grapes; Wakefield; Kooringa of the mines; Bomburnie with its model German Village; Undalya and Farrell’s Flat; then far away to the north, Jamestown and Port Augusta.

A FLOURISHING CATHOLIC COUNTRYSIDE

Of this rapid spread of Catholicism Father Tappeiner tells in a few vivid lines in a letter to the homeland: “When the foundation was laid of the church at Min-taro there were only three Catholic families with their dependants in the place, now it is our strongest station. The whole district, especially towards the north, is dotted with the homes of practising Catholics so that the larger number of them find it necessary to assist at Mass outside the doors of the church.” At the end of the letter he adds:

“What I say of Mintaro is true, more or less, of the other stations, no church can hold all the faithful. Fifty or more are obliged to hear Mass at the church door.”

Among all the missioners the personality of Father John Pallhuber stands out as being that of a Xavier or an Anchieta. A scholar to whom the direction of the studies at the College at Sevenhill was entrusted, and who was the wonder of all for the breadth and versatility of his learning, theologian and classical scholar; and, as an Apostle, one who counted as naught toil and danger in the quest of souls.

From Sevenhill he writes:

“Every month I cover, at the very least, 1000 English miles.

“Here is the routine I follow: On Thursday morning I leave on horseback or by the waggon, taking with me everything I shall need on the journey, including a chalice and wine for Mass.

“I have two routes to choose from, one of which will secure me a night’s lodging once on my way, and the other perhaps three. Either way I must go through fields and scrub and even forests, some of them stretching for more than 20 English miles. As for water, there is scarcely a drop, and what there is, is foul or salty; at times I lodge at a shepherd’s hut, where I say Mass and baptize the children. Before my track was well-worn and familiar, I got lost sometimes, but, thanks be to God, I have always been fortunate enough to find my way again; not everyone has been so fortunate, for several have met disaster on this trail.

“On Friday evening, as a rule, I reach Kadina, a little town of two to three thousand inhabitants, about 60 miles from Sevenhill. Here for the last five years I have invariably lodged with the same family. As soon as I arrive I visit the sick and transact any business that awaits me; then on Saturday morning, at half past nine, I hear confessions and say Holy Mass, after which I visit the good folk and settle their little troubles. I then go to Port Wallaroo, six miles away to the west by a rough horse track; in this small place of some 3000 souls I first make known my arrival and arrange for the morrow, and in the evening make my way back to Kadina. At six o’clock on Sunday morning I ride or drive to Wallaroo, where I hear confessions and say Mass, give an instruction and baptize the children: at ten back as fast as I can to Kadina, where I do the same. I have something to eat at midday and at about two o’clock I set out for Moonta, another town of three or four thousand people, twelve miles to the south, where I go through the same round of work. At midday, according to the needs of the case, I return to Kadina or to Wallaroo. Then lest my normal work at Sevenhill should suffer, I must, sometimes on Monday evening, more usually on Tuesday, and in exceptional cases on Wednesday, set off on my return journey.”

It was only the tall gums and the laugh of the kookaburra that reminded me, as I stood waiting for the high-power car that was to whisk me back to the ugliness of modern life, that I was in Australia and in the twentieth century. Surely this old stone house, with its high gables and its dormer windows, its stone-flagged passages and its dungeon-like cellars, is a little bit of mediaeval Europe that has lost its way in the bush or has slept or wandered for centuries in the manner of the fables! And this old Gothic church, built by the hands of religious brethren, surely it has watched over the fortunes of some Austrian village and seen the centuries slip by, seen Crusaders ride past and heard the tocsin sound as armies, like the ages, rolled on! And I thought of the more than thirty heroes that sleep their last sleep in the vault beneath the old church, of Pallhuber the scholar, a peer of the grandest missionaries, of the beloved Tappeiner, of Rogalski of the Poles, whose little church I had seen abandoned at Hill River, its door ajar and still the glorious oil-painting of St. Stanislaus over the altar, sent it was from Poland to raise the hearts of the exiles; I thought of them all, how far away from home and friends and from their beloved Fatherland, they had dreamed a great dream of founding another great Catholic land, had prayed for strength in this same stone church, before this same tabernacle over which hung, as it hangs today, the great Madonna sent them by King Ludwig of Bavaria, and how strengthened to bear the heats and burdens of the day, they had gone forth, from their very door at which I stood, down that same straggling path, out into the bush.

Of such men and of such a work as they have done there can be no thought of failure.

There must we end the story of the pioneer Jesuit. The work he had so bravely begun prospered and became a centre of spiritual strength for South Australia, and who can measure the extent of the influence for good that the lives and labours of the Austrian Fathers who followed him, has had on the spiritual life of our beloved land? Strange to say, and, indeed, prophetic of the expansion of his work, rather Aloysius Kranewitter’s earthly remains lie, not with his brethren in the vault of the Old Church at Sevenhill, but he alone of these devoted men, is buried with his Irish and Australian brethren in the cemetery at Boroondara in Melbourne. From his place in Heaven he must contemplate with joy the celebration of the hundredth anniversary of his landing in Australia, and it will not be merely the massive buildings and wide grounds of the Jesuit colleges or the grandeur of the churches that will fill him with gratitude, but the number of souls that have found salvation and sanctification through the work of his Order. Fr. Kranewitter was a builder and an organizer, but a man of God first.

Nihil Obstat:

WILLIAM M. COLLINS, D.D. Censor Deputatus.

Imprimatur:

@ DANIEL MANNIX,

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis.

********

Jesus Living In The World-Today!

BY REV. WILFRED G. HURLEY, C.S.P

INDEX

St. John the Evangelist lay dying in exile. A few faithful followers knelt nearby in prayer. Back over the years, his thoughts flew. The three years of the ministry in Galilee pass before his eyes. Once more he hears the Master speak! Once more he lays his head on the Master’s breast at the Last Supper! Once more he stands beneath the Cross during those heart-rending three hours of the Crucifixion!

The dying Saint raised his head for the last time. The wan face of the Beloved Disciple, aglow with memories. Tears of happiness and joy coursed down his cheeks. “O my little children,” he cried. “Always remember this. God is Love!” It is a good thing to remember!

You stand beneath the stars and gaze up into the overwhelming glory and majesty of the universe. You consider the Eternal, Almighty, and Limitless Intelligence behind the functioning of this same universe. You consider your own insignificance, littleness and helplessness. You ask yourself haltingly how this Great God can be interested in you. There you stand. Facing the sorrows and unhappiness of life. Age relentlessly creeping on. Poverty always threatening. Sickness and suffering, never far distant. Death lying in wait. “Tested and tried, as it were, by fire.” You are very close to despair. And then you remember! God is Love!

And the wonder of wonders, God loves you!

Why? It is hard to understand! But He, Himself, has said, “I have loved you with an everlasting love.” And the real “Story of Mankind” is the story of God seeking the love of man. And down through the ages, God drawing closer to His people.

Thus with the Chosen People of Old. He feeds them with manna in the desert. He causes water to gush forth from the very rock to quench their thirst. He dwells among them in the “Ark of the Tabernacle.” And to re-mind them of that, over His “Mercy-seat” there stands a cloud by day, and a pillar of fire by night. But even this does not suffice!

With all the reminders of His presence how frequently and how foully they fell! Under the very shadow of the clouded mountain. With the thunders crashing over their heads. With the lightning flashing its forked death. They fell into the vilest sins and idolatry. To save men He must come nearer. If the New Law was to be the perfection of the Old. If God was to be true to His word, He must come closer still to His people. And so the cloud vanished. The pillar of fire disappeared. The Ark of the Tabernacle was destroyed. And “The Word was made flesh and dwelt among us.” “And we saw His glory, the glory as it were of the only Begotten of the Father.”

And how remain thus, ever visible with men? A merely historical Christ would be as far away from men as the God of the Deluge, or Sinai. And can we boast that we are of any stronger fiber than they? How, then, could He substitute a book for His presence? A book is no substitute for any being. And when this Being is God Himself, the very thought is folly.

Nearer to men He must be. Remaining with them. Dwelling among them forever. His presence a lasting memorial of His love. Veiled in such shadows that while they could have perfect faith, they be not overwhelmed with His infinite eternal glory. And how could He do this? Is such a thing possible?

Only in one way—the only possible way consistent with the dignity of the Most-High—the way His Divine ingenuity discovered for the most stupendous mystery He has wrought.

At the present time, knowing how God carried out His divine plans, it can be seen, in reading Holy Scripture, how Christ’s entire ministry was directed to this very end. It can be seen how He gently directed the minds of His followers towards its fulfillment. It can be seen how He prepared their intellects to receive it. From the miracle of Cana, through the miracle of the loaves and fishes, to that day on which His body was delivered, and His blood shed on the Cross. Scripture speaks plainly!

There is no other teaching of Christ which has as much strength of Scriptural authority.

THE FIRST REVELATION

But the first explicit revealing came, so it seems, immediately after His miracle of feeding the hungry multitude. It was the second year of His ministry. He was preaching at a place near the coast of the Sea of Galilee. On this occasion He had miraculously multiplied five loaves and two fishes to such an extent as to supply the wants of five thousand men besides the women and children. And after they had their fill, twelve baskets were filled with the fragments that remained.

The following day the multitude had followed Him to the other side of the sea.

Jesus rebuked them, “You seek Me, not because you have seen miracles but because you did eat the loaves and were filled. Labor not for the meat which perisheth but for that which endureth unto life everlasting. . . .

They said therefore unto Him, “What shall we do that we may work the works of God?”

Jesus answered them and said, “This is the work of God that you believe in Him Whom He has sent.”

They said therefore to Him: “What sign dost Thou show that we may see, and may believe Thee? What dost Thou work?”

“Ourfathers did eat manna in the desert, as it is written, ‘He gave them bread from heaven to eat.’ “

Then Jesus said to them: “Amen, amen, I say to you: Moses gave you not bread from heaven, but My Father giveth you the true bread from heaven.”

“For the bread of God is that which cometh down from heaven and giveth life to the world.”

They said therefore unto Him: “Lord, give us always this bread.”

Jesus said to them: “I am the bread of life. . . . I am the living bread which came down from heaven.”

Immediately there is a murmur of hostility. Was He not the Son of Mary and yet He says, “I came down from heaven.” But Jesus meets their murmuring with words more explicit, “I am the bread of life. . . . I am the living bread which came down from heaven. If any man shall eat of this bread, he shall live forever, and the bread that I will give is My flesh for the life of the world.”

The murmuring of the throng increases in resentful vehemence, “How can this man give us His flesh to eat?”

There is no compromise. There never is with God! In the face of their hostility and angry mutterings, not only does He not recede, but with flashing eyes He flings into their faces:

“Except you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink His blood, you shall not have life in you.”

“He that eateth My flesh, and drinketh My blood hath everlasting life; and I will raise him up on the last day.”

Even His disciples are shocked now. They stand appalled. Their faces blanched. Their minds dazed. How can these impossible things be? Here is Jesus standing before them and telling them in the most positive unmistakable way, that they must eat His body and drink His blood if they are to have everlasting life. The murmuring of His enemies has made Him uncompromisingly definite.

There is no way of escape! It is a moment of trial. They are being tried.

They must accept His word! Or reject it!

Then came the unforgettable scene. Many of His disciples hearing these words cried out: “This saying is hard, and who can hear it?”

What thoughts must have torn at the heart of the Evangelist as he wrote the next few lines. How he must have bent his head in prayer and gratitude for the grace God had given to him that day. What words of love and thankfulness for his faith in Christ as he sorrowfully penned the words:

“After this many of His disciples went back; and walked no more with Him.”

It was a hard saying! It was then! It is now!

And none knew it better than Christ Himself.

But He let them go. They turned their backs on Him and walked away. They have rightly understood His words. They will not believe.

The sin against the light! The unforgivable sin!

Again and again down through the ages has this scene been repeated. “The saying is hard and who can hear it.” But it is the word of Christ.

And not only did He let these disciples go, but He was ready to sacrifice even His Apostles for this sacrament of love. Turning to them, He sternly demands, “Will you also go away?”

Simon Peter answered. Simon, then only Simon Bar-Jona. Simon knew no more than those who were rejecting Christ, how such a thing could be. But Simon knew Christ was God, and with God all things are possible. He bends his intellect and will in utter submission to the Christ he knows and loves. “Lord, to whom shall we go? Thou alone hath the words of eternal life and we have believed and have known that Thou art the Christ the Son of God.”

THE FULFILLMENT

A year passes. More and more the plan of God is revealed.

The feast of the Passover comes around again. In the supper room Jesus and the Apostles have kept the paschal rite.

And now a sudden silence comes upon the assembled group.

Jesus takes the white unleavened bread in His hands. He speaks! What does He say? “This is My body.”‘ Then He takes the chalice of wine. Again He speaks: “This is My blood.”

In a flash they are back at that sorrowful scene of a year ago. It returns to them with tremendous vividness. They realize that at this moment they see the fulfillment of His words spoken then. Those words which seemed so utterly impossible. But now, with His own hands, He is giving Himself to His own.

“This is My body, which shall be delivered for you. Take ye and eat.”

“This is My blood of the New Testament which shall be shed for you and for many unto the remission of sins.” The first Mass is said. The first consecration has been made. The Sacrament is instituted.

Before the eyes of Christ the future stood revealed. He sees the unborn ages living and dying in this world of time.

Living their lives of temptation and trial. He sees them falling, rising, and failing again.

In His ears are ringing their cries of suffering, pain, and remorse. Lifting their hands in anguish to Him as they plead,

“Lord save us or we perish.”

THE REAL PRESENCE

And thus comes that moment of Supreme command! The Sacrament is to be perpetuated. Down through the ages to the weak, to the famished, to the faltering, He is to come. To be their food, to strengthen them with His own strength. To abide in them.

“Come to Me,” He had said, “all ye that labor and are heavily burdened, and I will refresh you.” “For My flesh is meat indeed and My blood is drink indeed.” “Whosoever eateth My flesh and drinketh My blood abideth in Me and I in him.” . . .”He that eateth Me, the same also shall live by Me.”

But how was this to be done?

In significant solemnity He says to those who sit at the table with Him-”Do this for a commemoration of Me.”

Unfortunately, the word “commemoration” according to the present parlance does not convey the real significance of Christ’s command. The original meaning in the Aramaic tongue which Christ spoke, and the Greek tongue in which the Gospels were first written, is to “re-present” Him. That is, to make Him present, again and again. “Until He come,” in person, at the end of time.

This sacrifice and Sacrament is to be continued by His Church until time shall be no more. As long as a single famished soul should turn to Him, He should be there to refresh, to strengthen, and to save.

Throughout the world, through all days, He is to give Himself to His own.

When the Apostles and their successors should speak, He would speak. When they gave, He would give. Giving nothing less than Himself, His body and blood.

When they should take bread and wine in their hands, and saying over it

His words, Christ would speak through their lips, would work through their hands. And the substance of the bread would be changed to the substance of the glorified body and blood of Christ.

Thus the Apostles understood. Thus they taught. Thus they practised.

THE EVIDENCE OF HISTORY

So much so, St. Paul could write to the Corinthians expressing clearly the belief in the real presence. “The chalice of benediction which we bless, is it not the communion of the blood of Christ? And the bread which we break, is it not the partaking of the body of the Lord? . . . For, I have received of the Lord that which also I delivered to you, that the Lord Jesus, on the night in which He was betrayed took bread and, giving thanks, broke it, and said: Take and eat: this is My body which shall be delivered for you. This do for a commemoration of Me. In like manner also the chalice, after the supper, saying: This cup is the New Covenant in My blood. This do ye, as often as ye shall eat this bread, and drink this cup, ye shall show the death of the Lord until He come. Therefore, whosoever shall eat this bread, or drink the chalice of the Lord unworthily shall be guilty of the body and of the blood of the Lord. But let a man prove himself; and so let him eat of that bread and drink of the chalice. For he who eateth and drinketh unworthily, eateth and drinketh judgment to himself, not discerning the body of the Lord.”

And so it has been down through the centuries. One author alone enumerates the names of sixty-three eminent writers living between the first and sixth centuries proclaiming this teaching. Some by explanation. Some by exhortation. Others by giving thanks to God for it. Thus in the first century, St. Ignatius, a disciple of St. Peter, says, “The Eucharist is the flesh of our Savior Jesus Christ.”

In the second century, St. Justine, Martyr, “We do not receive these things as common bread and drink; but as Jesus Christ our Savior was made by the Word of God, even so we have been taught that the Eucharist is both the flesh and blood of the same incarnate Jesus.”

Origen, in the third century, writes, “Christ . . . will give to thee that bread of benediction, His own body, and will vouchsafe to thee His own blood.”

St. Cyril of Jerusalem, in the fourth century, writes, “He Himself having declared, ‘This is My body,’ who shall dare to doubt henceforward? And He having said, ‘This is My blood,’ who shall ever doubt saying ‘This is not His blood’? He once, at Cana, turned water into wine, which is akin to blood, and is He undeserving of belief when He turned wine into blood?”

St. Augustine, in the fifth century. “The bread which you see on the altar, after being sanctified by the Word of God, is the body of Christ. The chalice after being sanctified by the Word of God, is the blood of Christ.”

Surely that this was Christ’s teaching there can be no dispute. From the day of Christ, for sixteen hundred years, the world never heard any one even question it. For sixteen hundred years every man, woman, and child who believed in Christ, believed identically and precisely in every detail as the Catholic Church believes and teaches today!

But is it to be wondered at?

Study the words! No words could be more simple and intelligible. No words could be more plain and obvious. Depart from the Catholic teaching and there is no reasonable meaning.

THE TRUE MEANING

But someone may ask, “Could they not be figurative words? Or, at least, understood in a figurative sense?” Absolutely not! For what about Christ and those disciples who cried out, “The saying is hard, and who can hear it?” Christ let them go. They had accepted His words in their unmistakable meaning. They had understood Him rightly.

They would not believe. And Christ let them go. If Christ was simply speaking figuratively, why did He not call them back? Explain to them that they were simply to eat bread? That would not have been a hard saying. They would gladly have accepted that. Had Christ not meant what He said, and let them go away, He would have been inhuman, despicable, utterly unjust.

Whenever there was a danger of misunderstanding His words, Christ always took the greatest care to make them clear.

Thus when He spoke to Nicodemus explaining Baptism. Or, again, when He spoke to His disciples about the leaven of the Pharisees. But here, there was no explanation because they understood His words in the plain and obvious sense in which He spoke them.

As a matter of fact, to do away with the identity of the Sacrament with His real body and blood, is to do away with the Atonement. Did not Christ say, “This is My body which shall be delivered for you”? If Christ spoke figuratively, then it was a figurative body that hung on the Cross on Good Friday.

Did He not say, “This is My blood, which shall be shed for you”? If the blood in the chalice at the Last Supper was figurative, then it was only figurative blood that was shed on the Cross.

Take away from the words of Christ their undeniable meaning, make them signify anything else, and the result is chaos. Words cease to have any meaning. All Scripture is nullified. God’s revelation becomes an inanity.

It is a hard saying to those who know not God.

But to those who know God, who love Him, and who serve Him, it is not hard. Rather it is, the more you realize God’s infinite love and your own weakness, exactly what you would expect God to do.

Nihil Obstat:

ARTHUR J. SCANLAN, S.T.D., Censor Librorum.

Imprimatur:

@ PATRICK CARDINAL HAYES, Archbishop of New York. New York, September 14, 1934.

********

Old Testament Series: No. 5.

Josue-Valiant In War

BY FATHER FELIX, O.M.CAP., L.S.S

INDEX

INTRODUCTION

After the death of Moses his place as leader of the Hebrew nation was filled by Josue, of the tribe of Ephraim. He was well suited for the leadership. He was eighty-five years old -the oldest man among them. For long he had been closely associated with Moses, and he is called “the minister of Moses” (Josue 1, 1); he knew the great legislator’s mind, and that he had imbibed no small share of the spirit of Moses is clear from his respect for the law. Moses had placed him at the head of the fighting men of Israel from the time of their first encounter with the Amalecites in Raphidim (Exodus 17, 9). Josue represented his tribe among the spies who went to Hebron to view the country (Numbers 13, 9), and acquitted himself well on that occasion. He was a great leader of men; strong and courageous, straight and fair-minded, cool and far-seeing. To these soldierly qualities he united great gentleness and tolerance and a deep sincere piety. He is one of the great names of the Old Testament; “Josue is one of the rare personages to whom the sacred books have no reproach to address. “ He left a strong and a lasting impress for good on his people: “And Israel served the Lord all the days of Josue, and of the ancients that lived a long time after Josue . . .” (Josue 24, 31).

THE MISSION OF JOSUE

The task which fell to Josue was a different task indeed. It was twofold-first to conquer the Promised Land from the inhabitants; and then to portion it out among the tribes of Israel. Both as a military leader and as an administrator Josue was entirely successful. When all this was accomplished and Josue was now an old man he was inspired to leave a written record of his exploits: “Josue, therefore, on that day made a covenant, . . . and he wrote all these things in the volume of the law of the Lord” (Josue 24, 26). Ben Sirach (in Ecclesiasticus 46, 1) speaks of him as the “successor of Moses among the prophets” (in the original Greek: ‘in the prophecies,’ i.e., in the inspired books). Jewish tradition always accepted it that Josue under divine inspiration wrote the book which bears his name (the fifth book of the Bible), and the Fathers of the Christian Church adopted this tradition. Thus Josue completed the work of Moses by establishing the Hebrews in firm possession of the Promised Land, and added another book to the written revelation.

THE BOOK OF JOSUE

The Book of Josue is a most valuable document because it is the vivid account of a contemporary (for the most part of an eye-witness) of the events recorded. And what events they were ! Among them there are many miracles, and among these again the most astounding and spectacular miracles in the history of mankind.

Josue was leader of the Hebrews for twenty-five years, and the book gives an outline of sacred history during this period (1409–1384 B.C. probably).(1) It is only an outline, however, because the book was written for a religious purpose, not for the sake of history as such. The book is intended to point out how God fulfilled all His promises to the Patriarchs, and how in accord with these promises the people of Israel were miraculously settled in the Promised Land: “you shall know with all your mind that of all the words which the Lord promised to perform for you, not one hath failed” ( Josue 23, 14). From this it goes on to point the lesson that as God has been faithful in His promises of reward, so likewise He will not fail to execute His threats of punishment on those that do not keep His law: “when you shall have transgressed the covenant of the Lord your God, which he bath made with you, and shall have served strange gods, and adored them: then shall the indignation of the Lord rise up quickly and speedily against you, and you shall be taken away from this excellent land, which he bath delivered to you” (Josue 23, 16).

The narrative is divided into the preparation for the invasion (chapters 1–5); the conquest (chapters 6–12); the division of the country (chapters 13–22); the last years of Josue and his death and burial (chapters 23–24).(2) The researches of archaeologists and historians afford much help to the understanding of the historical background of this very interesting period of sacred history and to the filling in of the narrative, while at the same time confirming at every turn the perfect accuracy of Holy Scripture.

CHAPTER I

THE PROMISED LAND

Just as the Chosen People are known by various names at various periods of their history-Hebrews, Israelites, and (after the Captivity) Jews; so too the Promised Land has several names. The most ancient designation seems to be “the land of the Amorrhite” ( Josue 24, 8). It is found in the form Amurru or Amurri in Babylonian and Egyptian inscriptions as remote as 3700 B.C., and in the Tell elAmarna letters of the fifteenth century B.C. Another name for the country which occurs twelve times in the Tel el-Amarna letters is Chanaan; it occurs frequently in the Old Testament also, e.g., Exodus 15, 15; Judges 3, 1. After the Captivity the country was called “the Holy Land” (Zacharias 2, 12- “the sanctified land” in our version; Wisdom 12, 3; 2 Machabees 1, 7). From the second century of our era this title became common among Christians for the country which was the earthly scene of the Mystery of the Incarnation, and of the Life, Death and Resurrection of the Son of God made Man. (1) The most current of all its names, however, and its official name still, is Palestine, which it takes from the Philistines, a fierce warlike people of the Aegean iron-age civilisation who will appear in the later history of the Hebrews (in the period of the Judges).

Geographically Palestine is part of Syria. The boundaries of the Promised Land were defined in Numbers 34, 3–12: on the west-”the great sea,” i.e., the Mediterranean; on the east-”the most salt sea,” i.e., the Dead Sea; the Jordan river; “the sea of Cenereth,” i.e., the Lake of Genesareth; on the south a semi-circle from the Dead Sea

The whole country is seldom named in the New Testament; generally reference is made to one or other of its political divisions at the time: Galilee, Samaria, Judea, to “the torrent of Egypt” on the Mediterranean, which would include Cadesbarne; on the north-Mount Hor, (in our version “the most high mountain”) which is probably Libanus (modern Lebanon) to Emath at the foot of Mount Hermon. These boundaries were later described in the shorter popular formula “from Dan to Bersabee” (Judges 20, 1). Thus its length would be roughly a hundred and forty miles; the average breadth fifty miles. In area Palestine is about as large as Belgium or Wales or the Irish province of Munster. This area is exclusive of the territory east of the Jordan, already before the death of Moses occupied by the tribes of Ruben, Gad and half of Manasses. At first this was bounded by the rivers Amon on the south and Jaboc on the north (Judges 11, 22); but in time it was extended as far north as Dan and the borders of Damascus, and formed an area three quarters the size of Palestine proper.

The position of Palestine is worth noticing. It is the gateway between Asia and Africa. It is joined to Egypt, Syria and Arabia; and within easy reach of Asia Minor, Damascus, Assyria and Babylonia. In Palestine all the old civilisations met and clashed. It was the battle-ground of the ancient world. The commercial routes of the world were through Palestine in the period we are studying, so that it was at the centre of civilisation and a key position in peace and war alike. And yet it was isolated by strong natural frontiers and easily defended.

Palestine is a very favoured country too, presenting every variety of landscape: mountains to the north and through the centre; rich plains like Asdrelon and Saron; the alluvial Jordan valley with its luxuriant vegetation; patches of desert waste. The climate is equally varied. In general it is sub-tropical; but in the Jordanic depression it is tropical, on the coast medium; while on the mountains there are snow and frost. It is also a fertile country: “Isaac sowed in that land, and he found in that same year a hundredfold” (Genesis 26, 12). This was so because the Patriarch had the special protection of God. And herein precisely Palestine was specially suited to be the Promised Land. The fertility of the soil depends entirely on the rainfall. There are only two seasons properly so called-the rainy season (November to April), and the dry season (May to October). Granted sufficient rain at the proper time prosperity was assured; on the other hand drought meant certain famine. The country, therefore, was peculiarly dependent on divine providence. When providence smiled on the Chosen People then they were happy indeed with their splendid social legislation which made for wide distribution of property: “And every man sat under his vine, and under his fig-tree: and there was none to make them afraid” (1 Machabees 14, 12). But Palestine could be a barren and a stricken land when, as happened in the time of Elias the Prophet, “it rained not for three years and six months” (St. James 5, 17).

THE CHANAANITES

At the time of Josue Chanaan (as Palestine was then called) was in possession of seven different nations or tribes

(Deuteronomy 7,1; Josue 3, 10). The Chanaanites -the most powerful and numerous of these-gave their name to the whole country. They were strongly entrenched from Hazor near Lake Huleh in the north, through the Jordan valley and west to the Plain of Asdrelon and Mount Carmel. The Amorrhites were in Bethel and Hai. The Hethites held the country about Hebron. The Hevites were a small group in and about Gabaon. The Pherezites held the highlands about Sichem (later Samaria) in the centre of the country. The Jebusites were in Jerusalem, which later became the capital; the Gergesites in Jericho, on the south-eastern frontier.

THE PREPARATIONS FOR THE CONQUEST

The conquest of Chanaan was prepared in the distant past. We have a glimpse of the divine plans in the promises made to Abraham. God told that Patriarch that his descendants would possess Chanaan, but not for several generations yet-”for as yet the iniquities of the Amorrhites are not at the full . . .” (Genesis 15, 16). These nations brought about their downfall by their crimes of sorcery, idolatry, human sacrifices, superstition (Wisdom 12, 3–6) . Later, the Hebrews were commanded by God to “destroy these nations utterly”; to “make no league with them, nor shew mercy to them” (Deuteronomy 7, 2).

There is also a text in Josue 24, 12 which bears on this subject of the preparation for the conquest: “And I sent before you hornets: and I drove them out from their places, the two kings of the Amorrhites, not with thy sword nor with thy bow.” Clearly, therefore, God had intervened beforehand to make victory easy for the Hebrews. The matter is introduced here only in a passing way, and there has been much discussion as to the meaning of hornets (or wasps- for the word in the original is obscure). St. Augustine suggested that “perhaps it is to be understood symbolically of fear” and many since have looked for a symbolic meaning in the hornets. The traditional explanation, however, is that there is question of a plague of hornets (or some such poisonous insect) which preceded the attack of Josue, and disorganised and weakened the Amorrhites. It seems to be the only meaning of the inspired commentary on the passage: “Yet even those (the Amorrhites) thou sparedst as men; and didst send wasps, forerunners of thy host, to destroy them by little and little. Not that thou wast unable to bring the wicked under the just by war, or by cruel beasts, or with one rough word to destroy them at once; but executing thy judgments by degrees thou gavest them place of repentance. . . .” (Wisdom 12, 8–10).

At the frontier of the doomed land of Chanaan Josue and his army were now encamped, awaiting the divine command to go forward.

RAHAB AND THE SPIES

The special providence which the Hebrews enjoyed did not dispense them from using their natural powers and their ordinary ingenuity. Indeed, God “Who wishes all beings to exercise fully their own activity” gives extraordinary powers only to those who use well and with prudence their ordinary, natural endowments. Accordingly, Josue began by sending as spies to Jericho two men who would report to him on the state of the country; and especially on the size, position and defences of the city which was his first objective, namely Jericho-the most important position in Chanaan from a strategic point of view. Spies sent by Moses on a former occasion for a similar purpose had on their return stirred up discontent among the people; so this time Josue was careful to send them secretly. The spies went to Jericho, and they were housed by a woman named Rahab.

The people of Jericho had already heard of the miraculous crossing of the Red Sea and of the defeat by the Hebrews of the kings of Basan and Hesebon. The two strangers were seen entering the city, and quickly identified as Hebrews. The motive of their coming was easily surmised, and word was brought to the king of Jericho. At once an official search for the spies was begun, but Rahab cleverly concealed them in her house and sent their pursuers on a false trail. Her house abutted on the wall of the city, and that night when the city gate was closed they escaped from Jericho by means of a rope let through a window of Rahab’s house.

Rahab is commended for her faith (Hebrews 11, 31); and for her good work in saving Josue’s spies (St. James 2, 25) . She believed that the God of the Hebrews is the One True God: “For the Lord your God he is God in heaven above and in the earth beneath” (her own words in Josue 2, 11).

For saving the spies she demanded that they would promise on oath to save her, her parents, brothers and sisters with all their property when the city would be taken, and (in the manner of the time) the inhabitants slaughtered. Incidentally she made it known that the inhabitants of Jericho were completely unnerved through fear of the Hebrews: “the dread of you is fallen upon us, and all the inhabitants of the land have lost all strength” ( Josue 2, 9). The spies returned safely to Josue, who was much heartened by their report.

THE CROSSING OF THE JORDAN

Josue commanded the people to prepare a day’s provisions for the journey to Chanaan. The day before the Hebrews left Setim was given up to public prayer and religious ceremonies, and early next morning the march towards the Jordan and Jericho began. The priests went in front carrying in procession the Ark of the Covenant, the people following at a distance. The Jordan was in flood “it being harvest time” (Josue 3, 15). But as soon as the priests carrying the Ark entered the water a miracle occurred. Above them the river ceased to flow and the water rose up like a mountain, while below them it continued its course to the Dead Sea until the bed of the river became dry. The priests with the Ark stood while the Hebrew host marched across into Chanaan. When all had crossed safely Josue commanded the priests to come also, and when the Ark was carried across the Jordan the river resumed its course as before.

The Hebrews then marched to Galgal, more than two miles to the south-east of Jericho, and there they encamped and made their headquarters for the whole campaign of the conquest. Four days later they celebrated with great solemnity the Feast of the Pasch, eating (according to the ritual revealed to Moses) only unleavened bread. The bread was made from the wheat of Chanaan. They were now at length in the Promised Land. It was exactly forty years since they had set out from Egypt.

CHAPTER II

THE CONQUEST OF CHANAAN

“Now Jericho was close shut up and fenced, for fear of the children of Israel, and no man durst go out or come in”

(Josue 6, 1). In ancient times every city was surrounded by a wall to protect it from attack. Entrance to the city was through one gate in this wall, and the gate was carefully guarded. For several reasons Jericho was strongly walled: it was near the frontier; it was on the line of the principal commercial routes; it was an isolated city-for Jericho is an oasis surrounded by desert, and finally it was a vital point in the defence of the country as a whole. But Josue gained possession of this important fortress through a miracle.

By command of God the Ark of the Covenant was carried at the head of Josue’s army. The procession went from Galgal towards Jericho, made a complete circuit of the beleaguered city, and then returned to the camp. This was done each day for six consecutive days. On the seventh day seven priests with the trumpets for announcing the jubilee year went in front. After them came the fighting men; then the Ark; lastly the people. The procession went around the city seven times. This done, the priests sounded the trumpets and all the multitude shouted in response. Suddenly the walls of Jericho collapsed, and Josue’s host entered the city. The astounded inhabitants offered little resistance. They were slaughtered “man and woman, young and old” ( Josue 6, 21); only Rahab and her family escaped the massacre. The gold and silver, brass and iron were set apart for the use of the Sanctuary. Then the city was burned to the ground, and Josue forbade it to be rebuilt; if anyone would attempt to do so he would be left childless: “In his firstborn may he lay the foundation thereof, and in the last of his children set up its gates” (Josue 6, 26).

Striking confirmation of the biblical narrative here comes from excavations made on the site of these events. These excavations were begun in 1907, and they have been continued (with interruptions) ever since. The site of ancient Jericho has been located with certainty at Tell es-Sultan, more than a mile north of Eriha (modern Jericho). Remains found show that it was occupied in the neolithic age (3500–2500 B.C.) by a people (probably not Semites) using stone implements of agriculture and stone weapons of war. They were completely ignorant of art, but the city was fortified by a wall. From the next period (2500–1600 B.C.) comes evidence of a very different culture belonging to a Semitic people using metal (mostly bronze) implements and arms, and pottery-the latter sometimes ornamented. But the outstanding feature of the remains of this period is the excellent architecture of the walls surrounding the city. There are two walls dating from different periods of this (bronze) age, the outer of which would be perhaps five centuries later than the inner. The inner wall was about ten feet thick, and thirty feet high; built of brick on a stone foundation. It was destroyed by human force, probably at the invasion of Chodorlahomor and his allies. The second wall (dating from between 2000 and 1800 B.C.) was built about a hundred feet outside the ruins of the old. For the time it was an astounding feat of engineering. It was designed with the greatest genius: the foundations of mortar and pebbles go down to the solid rock; on these was raised a sloping wall of stone about twenty feet high skilfully buttressed; on this again a brick wall, six feet thick, which is considered to have been originally twenty-five feet high. The hill on which the city was built is thirty feet above the level of the plain; hence the top of the city wall was about eighty feet above an enemy attacking. To capture Jericho surrounded by this wall (a mile and a half in extent) was simply impossible in the warfare of the period. This wall was destroyed by a sudden cataclysm, and it is acknowledged to be the wall which fell at the conquest of Josue. There is evidence, therefore, of the necessity for the miracle, and of the occurrence of the miracle; there is evidence even of the stern prohibition under curse given by Josue against rebuilding Jericho: “ . . . the city itself was not rebuilt nor its fortifications restored until the ninth century B.C.”

THE CAPTURE OF HAI

Josue next sent men to view Hai, a town seven miles north-east of Jericho. They reported that Hai was but poorly defended, and a detachment of three thousand was sent to storm it. The three thousand, however, were repulsed, and fled ignominiously leaving thirty-six dead. This unexpected reverse plunged the Hebrews into despondency: “the heart of the people was struck with fear, and melted like water” ( Josue 7, 5).

Josue “rent his garments,” and he and the ancients (i.e., the men who formed his advisory council) “put dust upon their heads”-two ritual actions to express sorrow and repentance. Then prostrate before the Ark Josue prayed for light and help. It was revealed to him that the recent defeat occurred because God had withheld from the Israelites His special protection, and this again on account of the sacrilege of one of their number who had appropriated part of the spoils of Jericho contrary to the divine command. On the morrow Josue summoned the people, and the delinquent was discovered-one Achan, son of Charmi, of the tribe of Juda. He had stolen and buried beneath his tent a scarlet garment, two hundred shekels of silver and fifty shekels of gold. These were found and destroyed, and Achan was condemned to be stoned to death. God then commanded Josue to advance on Hai, and assured him that this time he would be successful.

Josue brought to the attack his whole army. He placed a large number of his best soldiers in ambush to the west of Hai. Then he led the remainder to the north of the city; provoked the soldiers of Hai to make a sally against his; and when they did, Josue and his army turned in pretended flight. The defenders of Hai who were reinforced by men from the neighbouring city of Bethel, were over confident from their former victory. They all left the city to pursue Josue and his army. The latter retreated a good distance to draw off their foes from the city. Meantime the men who were waiting in ambush entered the open and defenceless city and set it on fire. Josue now turned his men to face the enemy, but the soldiers of Hai became totally bewildered when they saw their city suddenly go up in flames behind them. Then before they could recover from their dismay the soldiers of Josue rushed on them through the gate of the burning city. They were surrounded and defeated, and their king was taken prisoner and hanged.

THE COVENANT RENEWED

Having obtained a foothold in the country Josue now gave his attention to the command prescribing that the Covenant be renewed (Deuteronomy 27). Doubtless the recent sacrilege of Achan had pointed to the necessity for it. He, therefore, built an altar of large stones on Mount Hebal and offered sacrifices. Then he caused to be engraved on stone columns the principal heads of the law of Moses. He assembled the twelve tribes and ranged them six on Mount Hebal (namely Ruben, Gad, Aser, Zabulon, Dan, Nephtali) and six on Mount Garizim opposite (namely Simeon, Levi, Juda, Issachar, Joseph, Benjamin). The priests carried the Ark into the valley between these hills, and stood with it in full view of all the people. The ancients, priests and judges stood near the Ark. Josue himself from the valley read the law to the multitude; the Levites read the curses for its violation and the blessings for its observance-the people answering Amen to each, as prescribed in Deuteronomy 27–28: “Cursed be he that abideth not in the words of this law, and fulfilleth them not in work” (Deuteronomy 27, 26); “Now if thou wilt hear the voice of the Lord thy God, to do and keep all his commandments . . . Blessed shalt thou be in the city, and blessed in the field . . . Blessed shalt thou be coming in and going out” (Deuteronomy 28, 1–6).

THE GABAONITES

Josue and the people returned to Galgal to rest and prepare for a fresh campaign. The news of the capture of Jericho and Hai spread through the whole country, and the Chanaanites were roused into forming an alliance in order to oppose the Hebrews. One little group, the Gabaonites, did not join this confederation but used a more subtle tactic, which they carried through in a very original manner,

Gabaon, a city-state twelve miles east of Jericho, was the political head of a racial unity which included also the cities of Caphira, Beroth and Cariathiarim. An embassy of these set out for Galgal to sue for peace with the Hebrews. They came wearing old garments and patched shoes; they brought old wine bottles that were “rent and sewed up again” ( Josue 9, 4), and bread which was broken into fragments from age. They represented themselves to Josue as having travelled a long distance, and they asked for terms of peace with the Hebrews. Josue replied that if they were from Chanaan there could be no question of an alliance with them, they must be exterminated. They protested that they had come from beyond Chanaan, and in proof of this they brazenly affirmed that they had begun their journey with new clothing and shoes, new wine-skins and fresh bread. Josue was deceived by the ruse, and he and his council made an alliance with them, promising on oath to spare their lives. Three days later when Josue resumed his march to complete the conquest of the country the whole truth of the matter was discovered. But the oath was taken and it must be kept. The Gabaonites, therefore, were spared but condemned to be forever slaves: “in the service of all the people, and of the altar of the Lord, hewing wood and carrying water . . .” (Josue 9, 27).

A NEW CONFEDERACY

The action of the Gabaonite cities in going over to Josue caused much annoyance to Adonisedec, the king of the Jebusites in Jerusalem-all the more so since they were renowned for their valour in war. Adonisedec, therefore, sent embassies to the four Amorrhite kings who were in his neighbourhood in the city-states of Hebron, Jerimoth, Lachis and Eglon, proposing that they should join him in an alliance to attack Gabaon. They all agreed to do so, and the five kings brought their united forces to besiege Gabaon. An urgent appeal for help was sent to Josue. He made a forced march to the relief of Gabaon; came upon the Amorrhite allies unexpectedly, and routed them completely. A miraculous shower of hail rained on the fleeing armies and killed even more of them than did Josue’s soldiers. This was the occasion on which Josue under divine inspiration commanded the sun to stand still: “Move not, O sun, toward Gabaon, nor thou, O moon, toward the valley of Ajalon. And the sun and the moon stood still, till the people revenged themselves of their enemies” ( Josue 10, 12–13). The day was prolonged to twice its ordinary length by a miracle unique in the history of the world.

The five kings, who had taken refuge in a cave near Maceda, were discovered and brought to the Hebrew camp.

They were made to lie prone on the ground while Josue’s leaders placed their feet on the neck of each in turn-an ancient symbol of victory. The cities of Maceda, Lebna, Lachis, Eglon, Hebron, Dabir fell one by one before Josue, and at the end of this campaign he had conquered the southern portion of the country, i.e., from Gabaon to Cadesbarne.

CHAPTER III

THE CONQUEST OF NORTHERN CHANAAN

Jabin, king of Asor, now headed an alliance of the northern kingdoms. When these mustered all their forces they were a formidable enemy both because of their numbers, and because they had horses and chariots which gave them a great advantage over the Hebrews. Josue went to meet them; made a surprise attack on their united armies at “the waters of Merom” and routed them with terrible slaughter. Jabin was killed, and his city was captured and burned. This victory put the whole country in Josue’s power except for a few strongholds in the mountains. These soon fell, with the exception of Gaza, Geth and Azotus in the southeast. Thirty-one kings had been slain. The conquest was complete, “and the land rested from wars” (Josue 11, 23).

THE DIVISION OF CHANAAN AMONG THE TRIBES

Chanaan was conquered, and the principal strongholds of the old population were destroyed. It remained now for the victors to divide the conquered territory among them. Ruben, Gad and half of Manasses were already provided with land in Trans-Jordan. Levi, the priestly tribe, was to have no special territory: “The Lord the God of Israel himself is their possession” (Josue 13, 33). They would receive certain cities and their suburbs from all the other tribes. This would ensure that members of the priestly tribe should be scattered through the whole country. Chanaan, therefore, was to be divided into ten parts, these to be distributed by lot to the several tribes. The task of division and distribution had been committed to Eleazar, the High Priest; Josue; and ten princes-one from each tribe concerned (Numbers 34, 17–29). It is clear that the tribe of Juda promptly received their territory (from the Dead Sea to the Mediterranean, i.e., the southern portion of the country as far as the city of Jerusalem); because five years after the capture of Jericho Caleb of the tribe of Juda came to Josue to urge his special claim. Of the twelve spies sent by Moses from Cadesbarne only Caleb and Josue had been loyal to God and confident of the divine protection, and for this Caleb had been promised for his own possession Hebron and the territory about it-the place explored on that occasion. Josue granted the claim, and Caleb took possession of historic Hebron ( Josue 14, 6–15). Moreover, he extended his possessions, for with the help of his son-in-law and nephew, Othoniel (the future Judge), he captured the city of Cariathsepher.

THE SONS OF JOSEPH

The second portion of Chanaan fell to “the sons of Joseph” ( Josue 16, I); i.e., to the tribe of Ephraim and the half tribe of Manasses. It was to the north of Juda and extended from the Jordan to the sea.

After this there was a long period of delay. The division was not completed; moreover the occupation of the divided territory was only partially carried out,. It would seem that the Israelites were slow to separate and take possession of “the land flowing with milk and honey” (Josue 5, 8). This appears strange at first sight, but it is not difficult to find reasons for it. Firstly, it must be remembered that those who entered Chanaan had lived for nearly forty years a nomad life in the desert of Pharan. It would not be an easy matter for them to accommodate themselves now to a life of farming and pastoral pursuits, and to a fixed mode of life in villages and towns. They would prefer the tents and the camp; the carefree and casual life of the desert. Secondly, although the Chanaanites were routed from their principal strongholds, they were by no means destroyed. Each tribe would now be required to do battle independently against the remnants of the native races in order to occupy and hold the territory assigned to it. Thirdly, it seems that the Hebrews had lost their zest for war after the first valiant battles of the conquest. The bulk of the people, then, remained in the camp at Galgal; only a few more adventurous spirits (like Caleb and Othoniel) had the initiative to take possession of the Promised Land. Even of those who did take their allotted territory some returned to Josue and complained of the difficulty of ousting the Chanaanites. Josue sent them back and ordered them to drive out the old population (Josue 17, 14–18).

THE TABERNACLE AT SILO

When the descendants of Joseph moved into their territory they buried the mummified body of that Patriarch in Sichem ( Josue 24, 32), near the dividing line between the tribes of Ephraim and Manasses. It was a fitting restingplace for the last of the Patriarchs-at the centre of the possessions of his own tribes; fitting also in that it was the land which Jacob (the father of Joseph) had once purchased from the Sichemites (Genesis 33, 149).

The Tabernacle was now moved from Galgal, and Josue and the people changed their camp with it to Silo in the Ephraimite territory. But again the people were slow to proceed with the division and occupation. It was a wrong policy for them, for the conquered Chanaanites began to come forth in ever greater numbers from their hiding places, and steadily to regain their hold, At length, when matters had drifted along in this fashion for many years the divine voice called Josue to complete his work: “Thou art grown old, and advanced in age, and there is a very large country left which is not yet divided by lot” (Josue 13, 1). At once Josue assembled the people and rebuked them for their indolence in carrying out the divine will. He ordered that three competent men be chosen from each of the seven tribes which were not yet settled in Chanaan. These men were to survey all the country north of Manasses, and to divide it off into seven portions. The boundaries of these portions were to be put clearly in writing. Then they were to return to Silo, and Josue would draw lots for the possession of each tribe of the seven in turn. This was done and so Josue proceeded to complete his mission-the establishing of the Chosen People in settled possession of the Promised Land. THE SEVEN TRIBES PLACED.

In this new distribution of the country the first lot fell to the tribe of Benjamin. It was a small wedge of territory between Juda and Ephraim, and it included Jerusalem and Jericho. Josue’s envoys had found that the portion assigned originally to Juda was too large proportionately (Josue 19, 9); hence it was decided that another tribe should share the southern part of the country with Juda. The second lot was drawn for this, and it fell to the tribe of Simeon. They were given place in Negeb to the south of Juda. This country (Negeb) is now little better than a desert; but the ruins of cities show that it was once a fertile land, thickly inhabited. It included Bersabee and Siceleg. The tribe of Zabulon received territory to the west of Lake Cenereth (later called Genesareth). The tribe of Issachar was placed south of Zabulon. To the west of both of the latter the tribe of Aser was located; they received Mount Carmel and the country north of it as far as the Phoenician border. The tribe of Nephtali received a thin strip of the country along the Jordan to the north of the Lake of Genesareth. It included Cenereth, the city from which the lake derived its name.

The seventh, the last and the least desirable portion, fell to the tribe of Dan. This also was taken from the extensive region which originally belonged to Juda and Ephraim. It contained eighteen cities-some of them (Gezer, Lydda, Joppe) famous in sacred history. But the old Amorrhite population held possession of the rich plains, and the Danites were unable to expel them. Cooped up in a narrow area in the mountains the Danites were in a sorry plight. Six hundred families of them migrated to the extreme north of Chanaan; attacked and captured the city of Lesem (or Lais) at the sources of the Jordan; exterminated the inhabitants and formed a colony there-re-naming the city Lesem Dan (afterwards Dan Lais; modern Tell el-Kadi). Those who remained behind were still harassed by the Amorrhites until finally the neighbouring tribe of Ephraim came to their relief. The Ephraimites conquered these enemies of the Danites and forced them to pay tribute ( Josue 19, 47; Judges 34–36). Already we may notice the prominence beyond the others of the tribes of Juda and Ephraim. The rivalry which arose between them later caused a division in the kingdom after the death of Solomon.

THE CITIES OF REFUGE

In the laws which Moses gave for the government of the Hebrew people provision was made that six cities should be appointed in the Promised Land “for the refuge of fugitives, who have shed blood against their will” (Numbers 35, 11). It was a very wise law; for at this period and for long after (until Christianity came) the ‘law of retaliation’ was everywhere in force. This meant equal retribution for an injury; stern justice with no tempering mercy: “ . . . life for life. Eye for eye, tooth for tooth . . .” (Exodus 21, 24). Moses accepted this principle of justice; but he took care to prevent the abuses to which it gave rise. The next of kin of a murdered man was the avenger in the legal codes of the time Justice was meted out summarily. Often vengeance was taken on an innocent man; his nearest relative then executed vengeance in turn, and so a blood feud was begun which went on indefinitely. The cities of refuge forestalled this evil. One who had committed manslaughter could flee to the nearest of these cities. At the gate of the city he furnished summary evidence to the ancients that his act had not been premeditated. He was then admitted and given shelter, and protected from pursuers, until in due course a formal trial could be held, ‘witnesses brought, and the case fully and publicly investigated. If his innocence were established at this trial he remained in the city of refuge until the death of the High Priest. After that he was free to return home without fear of vengeance.

THE LEVITICAL CITIES

Each tribe was now required to give certain cities to the priests and levites. . The six cities of refuge with forty-two others were assigned. Caleb thus surrendered Hebron and its suburbs, but retained the villages and land around it. This done, the division of Chanaan was at last completed (Josue 21) .

THE TELL EL-AMARNA LETTERS

When the Tell el-Amarna tablets were discovered in 1887 hopes ran high that new light was going to be shed on the occupation of Chanaan under Josue, and that also the date of the Exodus would be decided. These tablets were official international correspondence from the subject kings and governors of Syria and Palestine to Amenhotep III and Akhenaton-Pharaos of Egypt (1414–1362 B.C.). These letters appeal repeatedly for help from Egypt against invaders, and among these invaders is a race called Habiru. Scholars, however, are by no means agreed that these Habiru are our Hebrews. Beirut and Byblos in Syria were attacked by the Habiru or their allies, and of this there is no trace in Josue. Again, the invasion seems to have been from the north, not from the east. It is very unlikely then that the Tell el-Amarna correspondence had reference to the occupation of Chanaan under Josue, especially when it is remembered that Chanaan was always a centre of political unrest in the ancient world.

A CIVIL WAR AVERTED

Josue now summoned to him the soldiers of the trans-Jordanic tribes and addressed them for the last time. In simple and eloquent language he commended them for having shared with their brethren the toil of the conquest, and thus fulfilled the divine command. He exhorted them to love God, and to keep in mind the truths and observe the commandments which God had revealed for their benefit. He also reminded them that they were bringing rich booty from the conquest: “silver and gold, brass and iron and variety of raiment” ( Josue 22, 8); this he ordered them to share with their kindred beyond the Jordan on their return. Then he blessed them and sent them away.

They set out for their own country, and when they crossed the Jordan they erected an immense stone altar near the bank of the river on their own (eastern) side. It was easily visible to the other tribes on the opposite bank. This caused great indignation among the tribes in Chanaan-all through a misunderstanding of the purpose of the altar. Word spread quickly; the Hebrews in Chanaan gathered to Silo where the Sanctuary was; and it was proposed to make war on Ruben, Gad and Manasses for having (as was supposed) abandoned the worship of God and turned to idolatry. Calmer counsels prevailed, however, and a deputation was first sent to seek an explanation. Phinees, the High Priest, and ten princes-one from each tribe in Chanaan-formed the deputation. The explanation was soon given: the altar was built-not for sacrifices, which the Hebrews could offer only in the Tabernacle at Silo; but for a lasting reminder to the trans-Jordanic tribes and to their children after them that, although separated from the other tribes of Israel by the natural barrier of the river, they were still one people with the ten tribes beyond, and equally with them the Chosen People of God-worshippers of Jahwe, and custodians of His revealed truths. This explanation removed the whole difficulty. The deputation returned to Silo, and announced the result of their enquiry. The people dispersed, glad and grateful that their fears of a religious revolt in Israel had been groundless.

DEATH OF JOSUE

Josue assembled the people and their princes and magistrates to Sichem to speak to them his last instructions. He warned them against idolatry, and against marriage alliances with the heathen races in their midst and about them. If they remained faithful to the One True God they would have His protection and blessing; they would prosper in peace and prevail over their enemies in war. If they abandoned God He would also abandon them. He recalled the numerous divine favours which they had received as a nation-from the revelations given to Abraham to the possession of Chanaan; God’s magnificent promises and His fidelity in fulfilling them: “Behold this day I am going into the way of all the earth, and you shall know with all your mind that of all the words which the Lord promised to perform for you, not one hath failed” (Josue 23, 14). He asked and received from the assembly a public profession of their faith in God, and a solemn avowal of their determination to keep the divine commandments. Having thus renewed the Covenant Josue dismissed the people, and he himself returned to Thamnathsare.

Soon after he died peaceably at the age of a hundred and ten years. They buried him in his own possession at Thamnathsare in his own tribe of Ephraim. It is a great tribute to his leadership in a difficult time that “Israel served the Lord all the days of Josue, and of the ancients that lived a long time after Josue” (Josue 14; 31).

CONCLUSION

1. Objection has been raised against the authority of Holy Scripture on the ground that the biblical narrative of the conquest of Chanaan portrays it as unjust in principle and cruelly carried out. This objection overlooks the very elementary truth that God is supreme arbiter in His own creation. He can dispose of human property and human life as He wills. The same Lord Who commanded the extermination of the Chanaanites permits the death of thousands of persons (often innocent persons) by plague or famine. No one would question the divine right in this latter ease; there is no court of appeal. In the case of the conquest of Chanaan, moreover, there was question of chastisement for the crimes of generations (Wisdom 12 3–7). It was not unjust in principle, therefore.

Secondly, the cruel mode of securing and establishing possession of the country was only in keeping with the standards in vogue at the time.

The complete destruction of the Chanaanite population was part of the Messianic plan. In order that the nation of Israel should fulfil its mission it was necessary that it should be kept isolated from other nations. Otherwise the Israelites would be led into idolatry and led to lose their faith in God and the Redeemer to come.

2. The Epistle of St. James 2, 25 speaks of Rahab as “justified.” Thus her faith in the One True God not alone saved her from death when Jericho fell, but also led her to repentance and justification. In this early period of history, therefore, we find that Hebrew theology speaks clearly of God as One and Universal; of the vocation to faith as given to Gentiles; of faith as a free gift of God-given in this instance to a woman who had formerly been a harlot.

3. The name Josue comes from a Hebrew word meaning ‘salvation.’ The Septuagint translators, indeed, call it ‘Jesus’-the same name which was given to Our Divine Lord by the Archangel at the Annunciation (St. Luke 1, 31). The irreproachable Josue-the valiant leader of the Chosen People against their enemies, conquering the Promised Land, zealous for religion, is a figure or type of the Divine Redeemer. The Promised Land is a figure of the Kingdom of Heaven begun on earth in the soul by sanctifying grace and completed in Heaven in the Beatific Vision. And the reluctance of the Israelites to take possession of Palestine and to expel their enemies is typical of the lack among mankind of appreciation of the Kingdom of Heaven-the mystical Palestine.

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Keepthyself Chaste

INDEX

ST. PAUL TO TIMOTHY, I, CHAPTER 5, VERSE 22—

“For this is the will of God, your sanctification; that you should abstain from fornication; That every one of you should know how to possess his vessel in sanctification and honour: Not in the passion of lust, like to Gentiles that know not God. ( . . . ) For God hath not called us unto uncleanness, but unto sanctification. Therefore, he that despiseth these things, despiseth not man, but God, who also hath given his holy Spirit in us.”- Thess. 4. 3–5, 7, 8.—1. OUR BODY MUST SERVE OUR SOUL AND GOD

Man is made of body and soul united to form one human person and so body and soul must work together in all human actions. The soul is superior to the body but it can only act by using the body as its instrument. If, for instance, a man desires to give an alms to a poor person, the desire is in his mind and will, which are powers of the soul; but the soul must use the hand, which is part of the body, to give the alms.

HOW THE BODY SERVES GOD

To bring home to ourselves more clearly how necessary the body is for God’s service, we may consider the various actions that we must perform to worship Him and sanctify our souls. We see at once what an important part the body plays in them. Even to think of God we must use our brain. To speak to God in prayer, we must use our lips and tongue. Our bodies enter into the reception of all the sacraments. In Baptism, the water is poured on our heads. In Confirmation, the chrism is applied to our foreheads. In Extreme Unction, the holy oil is applied to all our members. In Confession, we must speak our sins. In Matrimony, the bride and bridegroom must utter the words of consent. At Ordination, the Bishop lays his hands on the heads of those to be ordained and they touch the sacred vessels with their hands. Above all, in the sacrament of God’s love, the Eucharist, the body has the supreme honour of receiving Our Lord’s Body and Blood under the appearances of the Consecrated Host.

TEMPLE OF THE HOLY GHOST

Not only does the body serve the soul in all these ways in the task of sanctifying itself but it is also the dwelling place of the soul thus sanctified and so may truly be called the dwelling place of God.

DUTY TO PRESERVE THE BODY

Since, therefore, the body plays such a necessary part in all our actions for the service of God, we have the duty to preserve its life and health so that our service may be more perfect. Furthermore, if we have the duty to do this, we have also the right to do it and no-one else can interfere with that right.

2. SIXTH AND NINTH COMMANDMENTS

“Thou shalt not commit adultery”

“Thou shalt not covet thy neighbour’s wife”

Since the human body is so honoured by God, it follows that we must honour and respect our own bodies and those of others. The virtue which helps us to do this is called the Virtue of Chastity. It is also called the Virtue of Holy Purity. Another name for it is the Angelic Virtue because the Angels, by their very nature, are free from any temptation against it.

PURPOSE OF THE SIXTH COMMANDMENT

The purpose of the sixth and ninth Commandments is to secure this honour and respect for the human body. The sixth Commandment forbids any impure action whether committed alone (such as masturbation) or with another person as well as all looks and words contrary to the virtue of holy purity.

The sixth Commandment forbids especially adultery which is a serious sin against holy purity committed with another’s wife or husband. Married persons have a special obligation to observe holy purity because husband and wife belong to one another in soul and body by the sacred Sacrament of Matrimony.

The primary goal of marriage being the procreation and the education of children, it follows necessarily that “every action which, either in anticipation of the marriage act or in the accomplishment of that act, or, in the development of the natural consequences of that act, proposes, either as an end or as a means to make procreation impossible, is unlawful in itself. In other words, any such contraceptive act is wrong in itself.” (Archbishop J. C. McQuaid)

Courtship means direct preparation for matrimony. You date because you want to get married. Of course, you cannot get married to someone you do not know. Therefore, you date to know someone you intend one day to marry.

Needless to say, courtship is dangerous for the soul. “The spirit is willing,” said Jesus, “but the flesh is weak. Watch and pray that you enter not into temptation.” (St. Matthew, 26, 41.) It is already a mortal sin to expose oneself voluntarily to a near occasion of mortal sin. Therefore, according to the circumstances, dating may or may not be sinful. It is permissible when three conditions are fulfilled: 1) when both are mature enough to get married; 2) when the dating can lead to a future marriage; 3) when the man has the means to support a family.

Finally, the purpose of dating is to get to know each other but it is not a rehearsal of the married life. Behaviour between prospective partners must be limited to what is allowed between a brother and his sister. The certain sign of a future good marriage is a clean courtship.

Usually our conscience will tell us what actions are contrary to the virtue of holy purity but if we are uneasy about the matter, we should ask the advice of our parents or our confessor.

The sixth Commandment also forbids looks and words against the virtue of chastity because these also lessen the honour and respect which we should have for the human body and because they may lead on to actions against chastity.

“Know you not that the unjust shall not possess the kingdom of God? Do not err: neither fornicators, nor idolaters, nor adulterers, nor the effeminate, nor liars with mankind, nor thieves, nor covetous, nor drunkards, nor railers, nor extortioners, shall possess the kingdom of God.” (1 Cor. 6, 9–10)

PURPOSE OF THE NINTH COMMANDMENT

Since actions contrary to chastity are wrong, it follows that it is wrong to think of them or to desire them. God has made this clear by the ninth Commandment. We should, however, remember the difference between temptation and sin. Sometimes young people are worried by unchaste thoughts which keep troubling them. The Catechism tells us what a person should do when troubled in this way. We should pray for grace to resist the temptation, turn our thoughts to something good and occupy ourselves with some work or amusement which will distract us from the bad thoughts. It is also good to do some small penances, as Jesus said: “This kind of devil is not cast out but by prayer and fasting.” (Mt. 17, 21) If the thoughts remain in spite of all efforts to get rid of them, there is no sin. Sin only occurs when the thoughts are deliberately consented to.

“Dearly beloved, I beseech you as strangers and pilgrims, to refrain yourselves from carnal desires, which war against the soul.” (1 Peter 2, 11.)

THE VIRTUE OF CHASTITY—HELP TO ALL VIRTUES

While we are young, we should try to form a great esteem for the virtue of chastity, or holy purity. Chastity is a wonderful help to all the other virtues. If we can conquer our passions when they tempt us to sins against this virtue, we shall find it easy to conquer our other passions. Our Lord gave special praise to chastity in His Sermon on the Mount when He said: “Blessed are the clean of heart, for they shall see God.” (St. Matthew, 5, 8.)

CHASTITY GIVES NOBILITY TO THE SOUL AND IS ESTEEMED BY MEN

Chastity does indeed give nobility to the soul. Those who practise it develop moral strength and their actions, words and thoughts are worthy of sons of God and brothers of Jesus Christ. On the contrary, those who sin against chastity degrade the human nature that God has given them.

In the esteem of men, those who are chaste are looked up to whilst those who are unchaste are despised. We may notice this with regard to any of our companions who may indulge in bad conversation. They may, perhaps, cause a laugh by it or get a reputation for being more knowledgeable than others but secretly those who hear them have a feeling of disgust for them.

CHASTITY GIVES JOY TO THE SOUL

Chastity gives great joy to the soul. Those who are chaste know that they are fulfilling God’s will by showing honour and respect to the body which is His temple. They realise that God sees them always and are happy in the knowledge that they never do or say anything that they would be ashamed of in His sight. On the contrary, sins against chastity are followed by a great sense of shame and sadness.

“I beseech you, therefore, brethren, by the mercy of God, that you present your bodies a living sacrifice, holy, pleasing unto God, your reasonable service.” (Rom. 12, 1.)

MEANS OF GUARDING THE VIRTUE OF CHASTITY

1. Natural means

A. The chief natural means of guarding chastity is to avoid all dangers to that virtue, such as bad companions, improper dances, immodest dress, company-keeping (except with a view to marriage), and immodest books, plays and pictures.

B. Hard work. If we are diligent in our school work and any other work we may have to do, we shall have no time for temptations against chastity. Diligence in work also strengthens our will so that we can better resist temptation. Even when we are free, we should always try to have some occupation and not spend our time lazing, day-dreaming or just knocking about. We can help our parents in the home, enjoy some hobby or good reading, play games or go on excursions with good companions.

C. The Spirit of Mortification. Consider that if we conquer ourselves in other things, we shall find it easier to conquer temptations against chastity. So to conquer greed and the desire for comfort is a help in preserving the virtue of chastity.

2. Supernatural means.

A. Prayer:

(a) We need grace to resist all temptation and prayer is one of the great ways of obtaining grace. (b) By prayer we fill our minds with holy thoughts and our hearts with holy desires.

B. Reception of the sacraments of Penance and the Holy Eucharist: These are again great ways of obtaining grace. (a) Penance: By going regularly to confession, we guard ourselves against carelessness in the matter of chastity. If we have the misfortune to fall into a sin against this virtue, the confession of it brings home to us the evil of it. We also receive a special sacramental grace to help us to avoid further sin. In confession, the penitent should be humble and sincere about sins against chastity and should not try, through false shame, to make less of them than they are in reality. Thus it would not be enough to say that one had had bad thoughts, if in reality some action had been done. On the other hand, there is no need to go into unnecessary details about such sins. It is enough to confess that one yielded to some thought, desire or action contrary to chastity and, if there was any such action, whether it was done in company with another or not.

(b) The Holy Eucharist: All the saints and Fathers of the Church teach that the reception of Holy Communion is one of the most powerful of all means for obtaining the virtue of chastity. In Holy Communion, we are united with Him who is all pure, the Son of the most pure Virgin Mary. It is only to be expected that, among the many graces which the Holy Eucharist gives us, there should be included a special grace to keep ourselves pure in mind and body.

C. Reverence for the Body as Temple of the Holy Ghost:

We have seen that when a soul receives sanctifying grace, the Holy Ghost comes to dwell in it in a special way. But the body is united to the soul to form one person and therefore the Holy Ghost dwells in it also. St. Paul speaks of our bodies as “temples of the Holy Ghost.” (1 Corinthians, 6, 19.)

The thought of the presence of the Holy Ghost in both our soul and body should give us a great horror of sins of impurity which violate the temple in which He dwells. If tempted to commit such sins, we should pray to the Holy Ghost within us, that He may help us to preserve that temple undefiled.

D. Devotion to Our Lady:

Our Lady is our Mother. Every mother watches with loving care over her child and wishes to protect him from harm and help him to grow in health and beauty. So our Mother Mary wishes to preserve in us the beautiful virtue of chastity. If we ask her, especially through the Rosary, she will obtain from her Son the grace we need.

We should observe the familiar practice of saying every morning and every night, three Hail Marys; adding to each the aspiration: “O Mary, through thy Immaculate Conception, make my body pure and my soul holy.” (300 days indulgence, morning and night.)

3. THE POPE SPEAKS

PERSONAL COURAGE

“Do not be surprised, beloved Sons, if, in speaking of courage, We wish to emphasise precisely the word personal.

To form a united group as compact as yours is, animated not by desires of violence but determined to defend properly and loyally the highest and the most sacred desires—this is certainly an excellent thing; everyone supports everyone else, mutually, fraternally and, in this way, daring becomes easier.

But this courage must be shown, even if, in some place or other, at a certain moment, because of particular circumstances, you should find yourselves in the minority, few in number, perhaps, even alone, faced with an adversary bolder and more numerous. Be ready to resist to the end, against them all, in your affirmation of the law of God, in the defense of the faith and of the Church—should we add today also, in the defense of order, of progress and of social peace, on every occasion that the common good requires your collaboration?

Look at the first martyr, St. Stephen: one against them all, to the very end. He surpassed, even in intelligence and wisdom, his cruel foes who were unable to answer his argument and his proofs. (Acts, 6, 10) It is men like that who are needed by the Church and by society. (Pope Pius XII to the Youth of Rome, Dec. 8, 1948.)

YOUTH BELIEVING, LIVING, HOLY

“Your thoughts, your aspirations, your ideals, can be read on your faces; they resound in your acclamations. But nevertheless, since you expect a norm and a directive from the Father of Christendom, We intend to take it from the treasury of truth and virtue contained in the name which you bear: ‘Catholic Youth,’ that is to say, youth believing, living, holy.

1. Youth believing: it is youth which has noble aims—the reality, the power and the value of which it is thoroughly convinced. Youth which did not have such aims and such a conviction would, by that very fact, put itself outside the struggle; it would be dejected, scattered, reduced to powder by the strong and opposing pressures of contradictory ideas and movements.

You, on the contrary, have those noble aims; you wish to work for God’s cause; you profess openly and in a virile fashion your faith in God; and you are reaching out with all your energy “like a torrent which a high spring thrusts” wherever the irreligion of the modern is to be conquered, wherever God is to be kept for your dear country. You wish to work for the cause of God and of his Church. ( . . . )

Thus you have before you truly noble aims: the noblest that youth, with its thirst for the ideal, can propose to itself; the only ones which do not deceive and leave the souls disappointed; the only ones which carry with them the certainty of final victory.

LIVING YOUTH

2. Living youth: the Catholic faith, the Church, is life. Messenger and mistress of peace and of love, the Church for two thousand years has nonetheless found herself constrained against her will to defend herself against the everrenewed assaults of her enemies, whether open or hidden. But she does not fear; she is old but she is also eternally young; she has a history of inexhaustible richness, but she is not lost in that history; she is never solely of the past but always and primarily of the present; she lives in time because she is always for the here and now, for problems and their solutions, for the men who are today living on this earth. ( . . . )

And you, too, wish to be a living youth, a youth which integrally and courageously translates its convictions into action. You will do this first of all in yourselves; then you will do it all together in the various sectors of life; so that the family may remain Christian; the school not act against the Church and the Christian family, but in harmony with them; ( . . . ) that all public life be ordered to promote the general good and not particular interests of one party. ( . . . )

HOLY YOUTH

3. Holy youth: that is to say robust but humble, knowing that with its own unaided strength it cannot make the grade, cannot face up either to interior foes or exterior; consequently, a youth which prays daily, and draws with fervour upon those springs of supernatural life which stream so abundantly from the Church of Christ.

A holy youth that is to say pure. You wish to be a youth “without fear and without reproach.” We can even say “without fear because without reproach.” A pure heart and a spotless conscience give us the right to look every man in the eye with serenity, and every event too, even death and above all God, who knows all things.

A holy youth: that is to say a respectful youth—with respect for parents; respect for authorities, ecclesiastical and civil; respect for the experience of one’s elders; respect for women and girls; respect for all who bear the human stamp. You can work toward your ends by every morally licit means which the law puts into your hands, but always respect the man, even when he is your adversary.

A holy youth: that is to say a youth full of Christ. Bear Christ in your mind by his teaching; in your will by the observance of his law; in your heart by the Holy Eucharist. Christ must always rule and dominate your will and your action. For Him no sacrifice is too much; with Him all is possible: “Jesus Christ, yesterday, today and the same forever.” (Heb. 13, 8.)

(Pope Pius XII to a Youth Movement, Jan. 4, 1948.)

“I write unto you, young men, because you are strong, and the word of God abideth in you, and you have overcome the wicked one.”

Love not the world, nor the things which are in the world. If any man love the world, the charity of the Father is not in him.

For all that is in the world, is the concupiscence of the flesh, and the concupiscence of the eyes, and the pride of life, which is not of the Father, but is of the world.

And the world passeth away, and the concupiscence thereof: but he that doth the will of God, abideth for ever.”

1 St. John 2, 14–17.

THE VIRTUES OF PURITY AND CHASTITY ARE THE BEST PREVENTIVE MEANS TO FIGHT ABORTION

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Kissing

BY WINFRID HERBST, S.D.S

INDEX

IS KISSING SINFUL?

This is a question we have often been asked during our years of pleasant association with young people. Here we merely give a concise summary on the subject of kissing; later we shall elaborate on the subject.

We distinguish between kissing and kissing. Rather, let us say that there are four categories of kisses:

1. Kisses that are merely a sacred and lovely symbol used to express deep and beautiful emotion and are not, of course, sinful; the mutual kisses of mother and child; the mutual kisses of husband and wife; the kisses imprinted on a sacred object, such as the Bible, the crucifix, the ring of a bishop, the relic of a saint, the altar, the hand of a priest, etc.; Kisses imprinted on some dear object, such as the flag of one’s country, the soil of one’s native land, the hand of a benefactor, etc., etc.

2. Non-passionate kisses—that is, those which are of such a nature as not to arouse the passions of a normal person—are not sinful in themselves, though they may easily prepare the way for passionate kisses, especially when indulged in by young persons of the opposite sex. In such kisses real affection is felt but there is normally no exciting of the passions. A kiss of this type is not sinful at all, even if it be exchanged between a young lady and her gentleman friend. The engaged, in order to foster their mutual love, may make use of the non-passionate kiss and embrace; but they must remember that continual hugging and kissing, even of the non-passionate type, may readily bring on serious temptations, and so should be avoided.

3. Kissing for the thrill of it, because of the excitement (nonvenereal) produced by “an increase of pulse and respiration which causes a feeling of exhilaration” is not in itself sinful, if there is no reaction of the organs of generation; but such kisses, in certain circumstances, easily prove a source of danger because they prepare the way for arousing the passions. Kissing in a spirit of mischievousness, a stolen kiss, for instance, or forcing a kiss on a girl who resists, or kissing just because of the novelty of the act, is hardly a sin against the sixth commandment, but may offend against the virtue of charity.

4. Passionate kissing, just because intense or passionate, stirs up venereal pleasure and is forbidden under pain of serious sin. Kisses not at first passionate, ordinarily become so if prolonged for some time, so that really prolonged kissing is classified as passionate. In short, all kissing to arouse venereal pleasure is gravely sinful because of the intention. There is no slightest doubt in the mind of any decent man or woman that kissing between unmarried people becomes sinful when passion takes over. Any normal person is fully aware that under certain circumstances passion was meant by nature to take over. The kiss was by God and nature intended to make men and women grow passionately excited. The kiss is under those conditions the normal and natural prelude to physical union. We cannot say in general, then, that kissing is sinful or not sinful. We must take each case as it is.

I THINK YOU ARE TOO SEVERE IN YOUR VIEWS ABOUT KISSING, AS EXPRESSED IN REPLIES GIVEN FROM TIME TO TIME. (SEE FOLLOWING PAGES.)

As regards our views about kissing, they are really not ours. In all our replies we merely give, sometimes verbatim and sometimes in our own words, the teachings of moral theology and of those who are competent to write on the subject. And almost invariably we purposely seek the less severe views on this subject of perennial interest.

When we received this query, we looked over the pamphlet rack in a church where we happened to be and found three booklets on purity, all with ecclesiastical approbation and the oldest dated 1936. We give an extract from each, about kissing chiefly:

“Not every kiss or embrace between company-keepers is a sin, but they easily lead to what is sinful. Necking and petting should never be indulged in by those who wish to remain virtuous. “Of all the youth who go to parties, attend dances, and ride together in automobiles, more than ninety percent indulge in hugging and kissing,” says Judge Lindsey of Denver. His long and intimate experience with youth well qualifies him to speak. “Fifty per cent of the original ninety per cent indulge in half-way sex intimacies that wreck the health and morals alike . . . fifteen to twenty-five per cent of those who begin with hugging and kissing, eventually “go the limit,” continues the Judge.

“The second great danger of cradle courtships is that of immorality—passionate petting, kissing, parking in an automobile in lovers” lanes and the like. When curiosity is strong in any department of the mind, experiments are likely to be set up to dissolve that curiosity. And constant, close companionship between boys and girls in courtship right at the time when curiosity about sex is strongest, is bound to bring the less disciplined into trouble.”

“It is true that not every kiss or embrace between those keeping company is a sin. If it is not prolonged or passionate, and is not accompanied by any immodesty, it is not sinful, but even then it can produce a strong tendency towards evil that must be seriously resisted. What is called “necking” or “petting” or “soul-kissing”, etc., is forbidden because such conduct is intimately bound up with, or inevitably leads to, indulgence in forbidden pleasure.”

HOW ABOUT KISSING? WILL YOU KINDLY EXPLAIN WHY IT IS SO DANGEROUS AND ALL THAT?

A woman has written the following article on a subject that is of interest to young men as well as to young women and it is so sensible, so clear, so instructive, that it deserves to be widely circulated:

“I get a great many letters from young girls who want to know what they shall do about the kissing proposition. They say that it is practically a case of no kiss, no beau, for the young men who take them about demand a good-night kiss as pay for their courtesies, and if they refuse, it is, indeed, goodnight, in the slang phrase for they never see these osculatory youths again.

“Now the innate modesty and delicacy of those girls revolt at yielding their lips to men to whom they are not even engaged; to men who do not even pretend to be in love with them. It violates their sense of what is proper, but, at the same time, they do not want to be regarded as prudes or Puritans. Still less do they desire to be wall flowers left out of all the fun and parties, and numbered with those forlorn damsels who never have any attention from men.

“So the girl is torn between her instinctive sense of what is right and her knowledge of expediency, and she wants to know what she shall do and how she shall answer the eternal argument of man when he is trying to persuade a woman into doing the thing that he knows she should not do. To kiss or not to kiss, that’s the question that troubles her.

“There can be but one answer to give a girl to this problem. It is no, no, no! A maiden’s lips should be kept inviolate, and the first man’s kiss that is pressed upon them should be the kiss of love from the man she expects to marry. For a girl to give her lips to every Tom, Dick and Harry who takes her to a moving picture show or escorts her home from a dance is something unthinkable. . . .

“It is a pity that girls can never be made to realize that the most alluring and attractive thing about them is the aura of innocence and unsophistication that surrounds them. It is the whiteness, the untrodden snowness of their souls that is their chief charm, and they never make so fatal a mistake as when they throw this away.

“If girls were only wise enough to realize how fascinating aloofness is, and what an appeal unsullied purity makes to the masculine imagination, they would keep every man at arm’s length at least until he had come out and popped the question. They would not think for a minute of putting up with cheap familiarities from men that rob them of their freshness and make them little shop-worn bits of humanity that have been pawed over like the goods on a bargain table. Girls should never forget that it is the shy and shrinking violet that is man’s favourite flower not the brazen sunflower.

“My girl correspondent says that she does not know how to answer a man when he begs her to kiss him and tells her that there is no harm in it, and that his arguments make her feel foolish because she seems to be making a great ado over very little matter.There is one answer that every girl can make to a man’s request for a kiss.

“She can ask him if he would like his sister to kiss any man goodnight who happened to call on her. She can ask him what he would advise his sister to do if his sister were in her place. And she can ask him if he would like to think that the girl that he is going to marry some day had kissed a hundred men who were mere casual acquaintances.

“Such questions will make any decent man writhe. A man will tell his own sister quickly enough what he thinks on the subject and his own lips would grow cold and stiff on his sweetheart’s if he remembered that her soft young mouth had belonged to a long procession of men before him. “Girls can never bear in mind too constantly the fact that not all men play fair with women, and that men are not always just or logical in judging them. A man might spend hours, days and months persuading a girl to do something that is wrong, and have a contempt for her ever afterwards for yielding to him. He will argue down her every instinct and scruple and principle against kissing him, and the minute she does he will lose his reverence for her as for something utterly fine and delicate. . . .

“Girls should also bear in mind that a wedding ring on the hand is worth a basket of them in the dim distance, and that the girls who have the most beaux generally get the fewest and the poorest makeshifts of husbands. A girl observes that those girls who are free and easy in their manners, who exact no sort of respect from men and permit them to indulge in familiarities and take liberties with them, girls who drink and smoke with men, and listen to and tell off-coloured stories, girls who are good sports—these girls are what we call popular, and are generally surrounded by a horde of men. Especially while they are young and good looking, and full of high spirits.

“But what the girl does not notice is that this type of young girl very seldom marries, and when she does she almost invariably marries a crooked stick who wasn’t worth picking up. The fast girl, the girl without modesty or delicate womanly reserve, may bethe kind of a girl that men like to play with, but she isn’t the sort of woman that they want for a wife and for the mother of their children.

“That is why you are so often surprised at the marriages that men make. Men whom you have known of as gay rounders bob up with a wife who is a Sunday school teacher. Men who have been noted chorus girl chasers go to some country village and marry girls who never saw a brighter lamp than a kerosene lamp. They don’t want the lips on which a thousand kisses have rained. They want the lips that have never been kissed at all.

“And don’t be misled, girls, into making the mistake of believing that because a man asks you to kiss him it is any indication of his being in love with you. A kiss is no guarantee of affection. Judas betrayed his Lord with a kiss, and every blackhearted traitor of a man who ever betrayed the faith of an innocent and trusting young girl began his devil’s work in the same way, with a kiss.

“The primrose path that leads to perdition for women is paved with the kisses of men. The thing that no money could have hired them to do, that no argument could have persuaded them to do, they have been kissed into doing. For it is no flight of the poet’s fancy when he speaks about women being made drunk on kisses. It is a literal fact, and that is why no girl is safe who permits men to kiss her.”

CAN A GIRL BE TOO STRICT AS REGARDS KISSES, CARESSES, AND OTHER FAMILIARITIES WITH THE YOUNG MAN SHE IS KEEPING COMPANY WITH?

First of all, there is a big general rule forcompany keeping. Such things as holding one another’s hands, sitting on one another’s lap, kissing, caressing, fondling, embracing, and other familiarities are very dangerous. Such actions work slyly though directly on the nerves of the body and render them morbidly sensitive; they arouse emotions and passions that are anything but proper, and waken and stimulate thoughts, instincts, feelings, desires and, but too often, even actions that are positively indecent. It is a clear case of leading oneself into serious temptations, which frequently end in a fall. That is why these things are usually sinful, that is why there is no truth in the assertion: “There is no harm in it.” Now, that is, the big, general rule.

That is why it is clear that no girl can be too strict in these things. If a young man is dissatisfied with the maidenly modesty and prudence of a good girl and insists upon tokens of affection of the kind mentioned above and will break off his friendship if he does not get them, then simply let him go. The true Christian gentleman will admire and love a girl all the more for her firm stand in matters of modesty. And such a one will be an ideal husband. It is perfectly right for you to be very strict. May God bless such girls! They are truly wise.

When a young man is keeping company with a girl with the intention of marriage does he do wrong in kissing her? Is it a mortal sin to kiss in a passionate way when keeping company? When is a kiss a sin and when is it not?

Lovers who are engaged to be married may exchange respectable marks of affection and love, in a moderate degree. A modest kiss is one such mark of affection. But it must remain modest, and must not become willfully passionate and sensual and, hence, grievously sinful. It will easily become thus sinful, if repeated often at the same meeting. One friendly and pure goodnight kiss is not dangerous for engaged couples. But it ought to be sufficient. The passionate and lingering kiss, or the so-called soul kiss between lovers, is a mortal sin, because it offers the occasion and inducement to grievous sensual emotions and gratifications.

Relative to the question as to when kissing is sinful and when it is not, it may, in general, be said that whatever conduct exposes you or your partner to the proximate danger of yielding to impurity in thought, desire, feeling, or action is a mortal sin. And if you say that passionate kisses do not involve this danger for you or your companion, you are grossly deceiving yourself. Such an assertion makes one think of a dulled conscience and a blinded soul. Incipient or advanced lovers who are not yet engaged to be married should not at all indulge in kissing and similar demonstrations of intimate and ardent love since their relations are not close enough to warrant it. If they embark at so early a stage upon these amorous practices, there is every danger that they will proceed from what appears innocent and modest to what they know is not, and the magnitude of the harm and disaster that will ensue to both parties will probably outrun all their calculations.

We believe that the above gives principles that will enable you to act rightly in all circumstances that may arise. We add, however, as a serious warning, that, though there may be some who have no evil thoughts or desires whatsoever in kissing and petting, they may be the occasion of gross sins of immoral thoughts, desires, and emotions to their partners. Remember this safe and simple rule: “Never do anything, when the two of you are alone, which you would be ashamed to do in the presence of your parents; or which you would be ashamed to reveal to your parents.”

IS IT A SIN TO GIVE A BOY FRIEND A GOOD NIGHT KISS AFTER YOU HAVE SPENT A PLEASANT EVENING TOGETHER?

That depends upon many things. If it is a pure, modest, friendly, passing kiss and does not give rise in either party to impure thoughts, desires, or feelings that are consented to, it is not a sin. But those who are not yet engaged to be married should not indulge at all in kissing or in similar demonstrations of intimate love. Don’t, don’t! It is dangerous. Protect yourself and the young man you love by refraining from all undue familiarities. If not sinful now, it may soon become so and lead to harm and disaster that will outrun all your calculations. Don’t! A young man with the proper sense of virtue and honour will always respect his friend’s concern for her modesty and innocence as manifested in the observance of this important “Don’t!” He will love her all the more for it. He will look upon her declining even “a mere kiss” as a convincing sign of her great shyness and fear of being gradually beguiled into the loss of what she considers—and what he also considers—her greatest treasure. Be sure of this: a girl who is easy and ready to grant unmaidenly privileges to a young man loses just that much of his respect and rightly so. Such a young man will just naturally conclude that she is ready to lend her lips to anybody who comes along- and has doubtless already done so. No good Catholic gentleman wants such a girl.

HOW DOES A GIRL REFUSE A MAN’S DEMANDS FOR PRIVILEGES (IN DATING, COMPANY KEEPING) AND STILL HOLD HIS ATTENTION?

You want to keep in circulation with Catholic fellows. You dread the very thought of becoming a permanent member of the unmarried ladies” club. But because of the problem of straying hands and your own “Hands off” policy, the fellows do not date you any more. And you have yet to find a suitable and workable answer to the question asked above.

The question is not an easy one to answer. True enough, it is easy to say what a girl should not do. She should never do anything that is sinful herself or permit anything to be done to her which would make her accessory to the sin of another. Sin is, the greatest evil in the world; and not for the whole world and everything in it may we commit sin.

A girl should not do what so many girls do in the mad world of today—she should not sacrifice her womanhood in order to get and hold a man.

Without being prudish a girl can be habitually virtuous. With this habit of virtue she will ward off advances, refuse kissing and necking, all as a matter of course, as a matter of good sense and good taste. She will set standards for the boys of her acquaintance; and if they do not want to live up to those standards, she will consider it a good riddance if they betake themselves elsewhere. She will remember that it is up to the girl to draw the line as regards petting, etc., and that she can always tell a boy “where to get off.” A chaste girl can make a boy keep hands off, if she wants to. She knows that “nothing makes a woman more esteemed by the opposite sex than chastity.” She will never compromise. And if the boy is worth knowing, he will accept her high standards with respect and admiration.

The boy you have dated three or four times, let us say, is a friend, but he does not yet share your heart. So you are perfectly correct in refusing a kiss, even it is so annoyingly insisted upon. Say “No” and stick to it. As for parked cars and sun bathing together, such things are taboo, whether he is the one-and-only or not.

Emotions and passions are like sparks within us. Disturb them and you are liable to get burned. Also, when something is easy to get, its value soon dwindles and its desirability fades. When a girl’s kisses are free for the asking, she risks the loss of not only her own good reputation, but also her charm and appeal. If a boy demands “necking” as part of the date, he shows that he has no respect for you. You are just a plaything to him. Then certainly, he’s not worth dating, is he?

So be independent of such individuals even if it means week after week without dates for a while. It is much better to be popular with God than with men, for God’s love is true and everlasting, with the promise of eternal reward and happiness. So stay on the “pedestal of pure womanhood” where God has put you and ignore the techniques of modern dating. Remember that purity and integrity are a girl’s most precious possessions. Be a girl with honour, and some day you will date a very special young man. Like the others, he will ask for a kiss- as most fellows do- to find out what sort of a girl you are. When you refuse, this fellow will accept your decision without question or argument, and in his heart he’ll be saying, “This is the kind of girl I”ve been looking for, someone to be proud of. Easy on the eyes, but not easy on the take.” He’ll honour and respect you and learn to love you for what you are. And you will suddenly discover that he is sharing your heart, and be glad you kept your little “treasure of love” just for him.

The above advice to us from a girl who has learned a lot through reading and experience and who is doing much to get other girls to keep themselves on the “pedestal of pure womanhood” is certainly instructive. But, you will say, it is again telling you what not to do and is not solving your problem. Suppose that I will then be not only without dates for a while, you say, but never get any date again. Suppose that I then never date a very special young man.” Suppose they all pass me by and leave me alone on that “pedestal of pure womanhood.”

Very well, suppose it all. Remember that God’s love is everlasting. You’ll probably escape so much more than you miss. But whatever you do, refuse to fall in line with the ideas of modern dating in order to get and keep a boy friend and, as a result, step very low off your pedestal and cheapen yourself and let yourself be pawed over and commit sin.

Since we mentioned above that sin is the greatest evil in the world, it might be well here to quote this striking passage from Newman’s Apologia: “The Catholic Church holds it better for the sun and moon to drop from heaven, for the earth to fall, and for all the many millions on it to die of starvation in extremest agony, as far as temporal affliction goes, than one soul, I will not say, should be lost but should commit one single venial sin, should tell one willful untruth, or should steal one poor farthing without excuse.”

But what you want to know, and what so many other girls want to know, is how you can, despite such refusals, hold his attention.

The surest way of still holding his attention, as is implied in the above, is your very refusal of concessions. If that does not attract him, then his going is good riddance.

In addition to that primary requisite, the following suggestions may be helpful:

1. Be charming and pleasant, smart and as well dressed as possible, clever and attractive. Make virtue attractive and yourself attractive with it. Everybody knows from bitter experience that high courage is needed to be consistently good. All admire virtue because virtue is essentially admirable.

2. Men, as a rule, are much less willing to marry than are women. That is why there are, so they say, more Catholic bachelors than there are Catholic spinsters. Therefore, since most marriages are brought about by the young woman, when you meet a good Catholic man whom you think you would like to marry, go about the business of tactfully, intelligently, and virtuously interesting him and, after you are sure he is the man for you, subtly persuade him to believe that he wants to marry you and with chaste andcharming womanly wiles get him to propose to you. Don’t wait for the young man to take all the steps. Employ the approved and maidenly arts by which the interest of a man is won. Make the natural and quite proper overtures to marriage.

3. Be a good listener. A man wants a good audience. Instead of chattering so much about your own interests, listen to him with sympathy, interest, understanding. Encourage him to talk about his plans, his ambitions, his struggles. Let him feel that from you he can always get courage and encouragement in breasting the world. A man wants his future wife to be a good listener, a restful influence, a centre of peace, an inspiration, an audience.

4. Occasionally invite the young man to your house and entertain him for the evening; let him see your home and feel that you can make his home a centre of peace. Cook him a good meal and serve it in your home; he will expect you to prepare good meals for him after you are married. Let him see, too, how delightfully natural and good you are to your folks at home-and how neat even when not dressed up.

5. Go with the man to the places to which he likes to go and do the things he likes to do. Do not be selfish. Forget your own preferences. Do not insist that he go to places he does not care to go to or do things he does not care to do. Sensibly and prudently keep him from spending too much time and money on you. Still, a certain generosity towards the girl with whom a man goes out is a good guarantee of his generosity towards the woman he will marry.

6. Do things together: walk, ride, go to the movies, attend concerts, lectures, church; read the same books, cultivate the same hobbies, etc. Try to find enjoyment in doing things together, simple, inexpensive, interesting things.

7. If you remember that the best of human beings are often weak, men disappoint girls and girls disappoint men and that both men and women are too often foolish, if you don’t expect perfection from the man you are going with, you will forgive him if he is guilty of a frailty or of a venial sin. You will remember that to err is human, to forgive, divine. Just as we must daily ask God to forgive us our trespasses, so we also have frequent need to forgive one another our trespasses. If the wrongs done, even if they greatly hurt your vanity and convenience, are really at worst only venial sins, not only forgive them but forget them. Better still, take practically no notice of them. Do not let them disturb the course of your friendship. Even a more serious trespass, if it is but rare, if it is but an occasional lapse of weakness, had better be gracefully forgiven and forgotten. If he sinks so low as to do the sort of things that are mortal sins, sorrowfully but firmly turn away and find someone better.

Remember that unmarried men and women may not deliberately accept or procure sexual pleasure in any way. It does not make any difference how common the sin is, how easily it can be committed, how generally it is done, or how briefly the forbidden act is enjoyed. Deliberate sexual pleasure has no place in courtship. It is forbidden under pain of mortal sin. And, let us plainly add, impurity before marriage not infrequently may engender infidelity after marriage.

From all this advice to girls some might get the impression that the boys are a bad lot, that they are always to blame. We do not wish to give such an impression. As girls must be on their guard, so, too, the boys must be on their guard as regards the girls. Just to bring out this point, we quote the following from Dorothy FremontGrant’s “SO! You Want to Get Married!” (Milwaukee: Bruce, 1947.)

“Girls early come to the realization that they have a mysterious “power” over boys. But their exercise of it is often miserably abused. Deliberately the girl drops her hankie or her compactfor the mere “pleasure” . . . of bringing him to her feet so that, at her leisure, she can give him swift kick. Not without reason are some boys, and some men, wary of girls and women. Deliberately the coarse girl will play one boy off against another merelyfor the “pleasure” of receiving their competitive offerings for restoration to her favour. (And, by the way, it is still good form for boys to confine offerings to flowers, candy, and books!)

“As deliberately as such foolish girls act I have put the word pleasure in quotation marks, because this sort of pleasure is illicit and immoral. It is essentially dishonest, cunning, and cruel. The little tots would call such a girl “a dirty cheat”, and without exaggeration. This is the girl who deserves to be packed away on the shelf forever.

“It is true that by woman’s very nature she does have a “power” over man, a moral power. The moral tone of society is set by woman, not by man, because she is the natural guardian of moral virtues; this is a portion of her high calling. Except by physical force no woman is involved in an immoral act against her will. Therefore the standard of conduct between boys and girls is the major responsibility of the girl. There is a real truth in the expression, “She led him on . . . “ “

A survey among Catholic high school boys and girls in one city “indicates that unexplained warnings and verbal “don’ts” fail to convince the majority of adolescent boys and girls that there is any danger in what they consider “musts” or routine necessities of any successful dating system. 22 per cent saw absolutely nothing seriously wrong in necking and petting, and 24 per cent claimed that such indulgences are “not necessarily” wrong, while 9 per cent believed that “petting only” is wrong. From the reasons given to support their judgment of these actions, it is evident that the average boy and girl are completely ignorant of the nature of the psychic and physical factors operating in the sex urge.

“While the majority saw no need for necking and petting on a date, as many as 341 seniors considered such behaviour a “routine part of a girl’s relationship with boys.” Though nearly 100 seniors considered such behaviour “cheap” and “disgusting,” none of the 1,042 who responded in the negative gave any ethical principles or moral reasons for their stand. Only one 17-yearold boy came close to any substantial insight into the problem when he stated: “After you go with a girl for a while, you realize this isn’t the thing that counts” “ (America, July 14, 1951, pp. 377—378).

Do you think it right for a boy to expect a kiss after a date, as if it were a reward for taking you out?

Once upon a time a good Catholic wrote to me and said, among other things:

“Father, when I go out with boys, I don’t care to do the things that some do. You understand what I mean, don’t you? I mean about parked cars, shows, etc. Then, about kissing. I do not think it is really proper for a boy to expect a kiss after about the third or fourth date, as though this were his reward for taking me out. I want the boy to have the highest respect and courtesy for womanhood. Is this the right way of thinking? As for myself, I do not care to go out with boys any more. I did have the desire to, as is only natural for a girl, but now I would rather play tennis, volley ball, etc. Why must there always be that cheapening element in company keeping? Isn’t it a remote preparation for marriage, which is truly a beautiful and sacred state?”

1am twenty years old and am going with a good Catholic boy. I don’t go in for heavy petting, maybe just a goodnight kiss or one or two more. Am I right in believing that if no passions or emotions are aroused, such kissing is considered safe? If the passions or emotions are noticed in yourself or in the other person and you quit immediately, is there any sin involved? What sort of sin is involved, if any, as regards the thoughts and feelings (maybe desires) that go with some kisses and that sometimes come when you are just out with a boy or perhaps by yourself? Are these temptations? Or how can you distinguish? How would you confess these sins?

“Am I right in believing that if no passions or emotions are aroused, such kissing is considered safe?”

It might be possible for a non-passionate kiss, such as you mention, to be exchanged between a young lady and her gentleman friend. If so, it is not sinful at all because, as we are presuming, it is of such a nature as not to arouse the passions of a normal person. It is this non-passionate kiss and embrace that the engaged may make use of, very moderately and briefly and not too frequently lest there be serious temptations, because in order to foster their mutual love they have a right to show each other certain marks of this love. But because a kiss between a man and a woman is a symbol, asign of deep affection, and the expression of the man’s and woman’s desire to bind that affection in marriage, it should rarely be tolerated in the case of a casual companion. To say goodnight by means of the symbolic expression which is the pledge of undying love is quite out of place. Don’t! And it is never safe. A kiss begun in friendship can easily end in passion.

“If the passions or emotions are noticed in yourself or in the other person and you quit immediately, is there any sin involved?”

If it was a non-passionate kiss, as mentioned above, a token of honourable love, such as may be lawful even between persons of the opposite sex, and if the kissing was really not done in order to arouse venereal pleasure, and then you notice passions or emotions in yourself or in the other person and you quit immediately and do not consent to such passions and emotions, there may be no sin involved. But you who are asking are the girl in the case and are perhaps not aware that the young man is naturally much more passionate than you who are inclined to be merely affectionate and distantly maternal. You do not know what is going on in that young man’s interior. He may be giving willful consent to thoughts, desires, and even to the most vehement feelings. In that case he has committed a mortal sin and you co-operated in it. It may still not be a sin for you, because you never thought that an innocent goodnight kiss would lead to anything like that.

“What sort of a sin is involved, if any, as regards the thoughts and feelings (maybe desires) that go with some kisses, and that sometimes come when you are just out with a boy or perhaps by yourself?”

If you give willful consent to such thoughts, feelings, desires, that is, if you rest in them with content, are glad you have them, make no effort to banish them but rather entertain them, you commit a mortal sin. Kissing of a passionate kind which stirs up venereal pleasure (and really prolonged kissing is classified as passionate) is forbidden under pain of serious sin. A kiss may be the spark that will blow up the highly inflammable passions of youth and start a raging fire that cannot be put out. A man can be rushed by kisses into brutal things, and a girl can be kissed into anything, to the lifelong shame, regret and remorse of both and often to the ruin of the girl besides.

“Are these temptations? Or how can you distinguish? How would you confess these sins?”

As a learned author says: “Here it is wise to distinguish between what is merely a natural phenomenon and what is a temptation. It is entirely natural for a normal person at given times to experience carnal imaginations, thoughts, feelings and desires. It would be a sign of abnormality or constitutional disorder if he did not experience them. But those experiences are not as yet a temptation by any means. They become a temptation only when there is added to them the approach of lust, or the lure to indulge in them unlawfully. This lust constitutes the temptation. As long as it is not responded to or dallied with there can be no question of sin, however strong the natural phenomenon may be.”

Try always to avoid doing things that do not at all have to be done and you know will bring about such temptations. And when the temptations do come as come they will in spite of everything, quietly resist them with prayer and attention to other things.

When a boy and a girl are keeping company, is it all right for them to kiss each other?

In his book, “Those Terrible Teens” (New York: Declan X. McMullen 1947), Father Vincent P. McCorry says some very plain things about the sign that does not signify. To begin with, he says that if you saw strange man enter a street car, pay his fare and then proceed to shake hands with everyone in the car, you would say that the poor fellow was either crazy or inebriated. Why? Because he was using a familiar sign that was meaningless. The people of our civilization recognize the clasp of hands as a sign of friendship. So, too, in the civilized world which we know the kiss is a gesture and a contact which is understood to be the sign of love. As such a sign the kiss reaches its perfection when it is exchanged between a man and a woman who are bound together in the union of true love. Such a kiss is a sublime and holy thing. Our age, which has deified love of the sexual sort, has simultaneously debased and degraded the love sign, the kiss. No one will pretend that a girl can love every young man with whom she associates, yet they keep assuring her with all propriety she may kiss any boy with whom she spends an hour or an evening. Well might we blame a girl for making herself so sickeningly cheap. Yet in our own day it is only what the smart contemporary world, what Hollywood and the popular magazines and the beastly advertisements tell her to do. We know that Our Blessed Lord, in His own life, said some strangely harsh things about the world and the devil and their conspiracy against weak flesh. The plain, discouraging truth is that for many a boy and girl today the kiss is no longer a sign of love. It is no longer a sign of anything. It is either a brutal, physical sport, or-God save the mark!- a payment. It is a degrading idea that the girl is somehow indebted to the boy for taking her out, and that the coin of her payment is the kiss. The suggestion bears a distinct and malodorous resemblance to commercialized vice. For Catholic girls, nothing more need be said.

We now quote verbatim the last three paragraphs of this classical chapter of an excellent book that you should have:

“The kiss exists, now, for its own sake, without relating to meaning of any sort. It is sought, given and exchanged, not to express and glorify a gorgeous reality, but to yield a momentary thrill. The kiss used to rise up from the heart; now it is chained to the body. It used to incarnate the highest aspirations of two who loved; now it embodies the lowest desires of two who lust for one another. The kiss was once a poem and a song; now it is a kind of silent blasphemy. So ends the modern history of the sublime sign of love.

“Like every other portion of the noble human body which the most high God first lovingly formed out of the slime of the earth, the lips are a miracle and a meditation. The lips of the infant draw life from its mother’s breast. The lips help, throughout life, in the normal, necessary functions of eating and drinking. The lips play their part in the wonder of speech and in the equal marvel of silence. The lips make a straight line of courage in adversity, and softly part in the rare moments of surpassing joy which this poor world affords. The lips whisper the act of contrition, and open to welcome the white flake that is Christ Jesus. The lips will taste a last anointing with holy oil, and-their last loving sign, please God!- will be pressed against the crucifix in the very article of death. The lips will be gently closed by loving hands, and will open again one day to sing forever the rapturous praise of the triune God, Father, Son and Holy Spirit.

Is it all right for them to kiss each other?In her excellent book, “SO! You Want to Get Married!,” Dorothy Grant says among other things:

“What about kissing?

“All right, what about it? We may as well meet this ever-pressing question right off.

“Instead of “ganging up” with their own kind during the initial moments of a party, why don’t boys and girls go right to it and kiss? If there is no harm in a kiss why be “bashful about coming forward? Why not kiss under a brilliantly lighted chandelier instead of out in the moonlight behind the honeysuckle vine? Why not?

“A girl would kiss her father before a room full of people. Why not a boy?

“Can it be because maybe there is harm in a kiss?

“Of course, kissing dad is old stuff. Kissing a boy is definitely a kiss of another colour-usually quite red. Why?

“Because there is as much potential harm in kissing a boy as there is potential harm in human nature. How bad can you be? Do you know? True, dad is an old hand at the business. He has been kissing mother for years: but that’s the point it is mother whom he has kissed. There was a first kiss between mother and dad, probably the kiss which decided dad to give mother his name, his heart, and his life.

“As far as the girl is concerned, in truth, there may be little harm in a kiss because usually a girl is less tempted than a boy. But a kiss that leaves her unmoved may be a mortal sin for him, and a portion of the guilt of that mortal sin will be hers because she permitted the kiss. None of the guilt is hers if the boy without the least encouragement has taken the kiss by force, but a decent boy seldom does this.

Therefore the degree of “harm” in a kiss must be measured by the circumstance-under the chandelier or behind the honeysuckle vine. As Father Furfey points out in his book, “This Way to Heaven,” a kiss “may be anything from a beautiful act of supernatural charity to a mortal sin of impurity.” It is questionable if a kiss delivered behind the honeysuckle vine is likely to be a “beautiful act of supernatural charity”.

“God has endowed our sense of touch with certain pleasant reactions. Why? So that within the bonds of matrimony, a man and a woman will unite, “two in one flesh” for the procreation of children. Within the bonds of matrimony a kiss, a caress are essential preliminaries to this complete union of man and wife. Outside the bonds of matrimony a kiss, a caress are just as appealing to the senses, but in this circumstance physical union is a mortal sin.”

And in the concluding chapter of this excellent book the gifted author has these practical remarks:

“When I suggest you refuse advances in the interest of being popular and sought after by the right kind of boys, I am remembering my “dates.” Memory insists it is true that if you are “hard to get” you will be sought by the kind of boys you want to know. Ofall the young men who “dated” me only one kissed me of my own free will. That one I married.

“If and when the others took a kiss contrary to my will—boys will do that- they had dated me for the last time. It was much more pleasant to spend an evening athome with my mother or with a good book than spend hours on a “date” with a boy who refused to understand that “No” meant “No!” Memory serves me well on this point.

“Nor did I stand by this moral principle just because these words are found in the dictionary. Far from it. These were principles which mother said were worth defending and I believed she knew what she was talking about. Who could know better than mother about such things?

“Every age has its superficialities, but fundamentally I do not believe the girls of today are any different from the girls of my teen days. Human nature does not change, nor do the divine and natural moral laws change from age to age.”

Nihil Obstat:

BERNARD O”CONNOR, Diocesan Censor.

Imprimatur:

J. R. KNOX,

Archbishop of Melbourne. 20th March, 1968.

********

Knock And Its Shrine

STORY OF A FAMED IRISH SHRINE

BY F. P. CAREY

INDEX

Nazareth the unknown! Nazareth the insignificant! Our Divine Lord yet abode a Man in the midst of men, lips of the worldly-wise contemptuously curled at the claim to everlasting renown made for a village possessed of no more convincing material memorial of its vaunted distinction than the site of a wayside carpentery.

Can any good come out of Nazareth? Throughout the intervening ages, unbelief has repeatedly flung forth the olden challenge. But as frequently, through grace of Almighty God, has Faith returned the answer.

It is noteworthy that often when it has pleased God that that answer should be given, as it were, in terms of miraculous manifestation, the chosen circumstances should have been as those of Nazareth itself.

A century ago, Lourdes was a place unknown and unimportant even among those living in its nearest vicinity. Paray-le- Monial, Rue de Bac, La Salette, almost all the now universally besought shrines of Catholic Faith similarly associated with actual Heavenly indication, were scarcely distinguishable names in the ear of the outside world before there had come to pass the holy occurrences in proof of which they stand.

The fact is notably true of Knock, the now piously venerated shrine of Mary-let us say of Our Lady Queen of Ireland-set upon the gently-sloping hill from which the village would appear to have taken its name, about six miles beyond Claremorris, upon the road between that town and Swinford in Mayo.

“It is a big jump in time and space from Nazareth of Galilee to Knock in County Mayo,” said an eloquent pilgrimage preacher in 1936,”But how like the resemblance one to the other, of those divinely-favoured hamlets?” There are in Ireland many places called Knock, for the name is simply the common Cnoc, meaning a hill. There are even other villages of the name to be encountered in the western Irish counties. Nevertheless, it is not exaggeration to suggest that prior to the close of the eighteen-seventies, the Knock that has through such blessed wonder become Knock-Mhuire, or Knock of Mary, was the least known of all.

They were a lowly, plain-going folk that inhabited the place, having nothing of the social importance or industrial association that would have commended them to the interest of the world that lay without their parish confines. They were, consequently, so wholly absorbed in pursuit of their own humble affairs that few living even within a few miles of the village thought of it, whilst by many its existence was undreamt of.

In the condition of the villagers of the later “seventies,’ the resemblance between Knock and Nazareth bore with remarkable fidelity. The priest already quoted, a native of the Knock of that period, has said that the social plight of the people was in every respect akin with that of the people of Nazareth in the time of Our Lord.”Poor, peaceful and unknown, dead to the outside world: rich only in the treasures of grace and faith.” Privation had been their lot longer than the oldest among them could remember. The tyrannical landlordism that crushed human hope in the hearts of the West of Ireland generally, pressed mercilessly upon defenceless Knock. The village, too, experienced ever-recurring periods of crop failure and scarcity, one spell of anxiety quickly succeeding another, the latter differing from the former, perhaps, in category, but seldom in dread.

Thus opened the year 1879, presently to be rendered dismally historic for Knock by a potato blight which stigmatized the year as possibly the worst known in that part of Mayo since the desolating Famine of 1847. But the tender glance of Divine Pity rested upon the village.

“Cum ipso sum in tribulatione-I am with you in your tribulations!” That period of greatest trial in the memory of the inhabitants of the time had been the chosen of God for the wonderful manifestation of His Grace, which, under Heaven, they were induced to appraise as Mary’s mission of compassion and comfort to them in their sorrow and suffering.

It was auspiciously upon the octave-vigil of the Feast of the Assumption of Our Lady, 21st August, 1879, at about half-past seven in the evening, the daylight having not yet faded, and at the moment in which their human anguish had reached the climax, that villagers, men, women, and children, came forth among the homesteads, crying out in voices of joyous conviction that Our Blessed Lady, with St. Joseph and St. John Evangelist, had been seen by them in an indescribable glow of heavenly light at the gable of the parish church.

At once, the hearers hastened to the spot, and the wonder, which lasted without the slightest diminution for about two hours, was seen by many persons. Fifteen of these witnesses subsequently made their testimony in writing, and later withstood the test of rigorous examination as to. their experience, with, of course, special reference as to compatability of detail in respect of first impressions as related to after recollection, and in regard of the distinct accounts of the several persons concerned. These recitals comprised a beautifully simple, and in that connection, convincing record of the vision.

Mary Beirne, afterwards known as Mrs. O”Connell, who lived until October, 1936, was at the date of the vision, a girl of twenty-six. Her testimony, which is the most convenient for inclusion here exactly as given, stated that”it was eight o‘clock, or a quarter to eight, at the time . . . The first I learned of it was on coming at the time from my mother’s house, in company with Mary McLoughlin, and at a distance of three hundred yards or so from the church, I beheld standing out from the gable, and rather to the west of it, three figures which appeared to be that of the Blessed Virgin, St. Joseph, and St. John. That of the Blessed Virgin was life-size. The Virgin stood erect with eyes raised to Heaven, her hands elevated to the shoulders, or a little higher, the palms inclined slightly towards the shoulders, or bosom. She wore a crown on her head, rather a large crown, and it appeared to me somewhat yellower than the dress, or robes, worn by Our Blessed Lady.”

“When I arrived there, I threw myself upon my knees, and exclaimed: “A hundred thousand thanks to God, and to the glorious Virgin, that has given us this manifestation!” attested seventy-five-year-old Brigid French, whose evidence was given in Irish. This witness added that she was so taken up with the Blessed Virgin, and felt such great delight in looking at her, that, although she saw the other figures, she did not give much attention to them.

Patrick Hill, then about fifteen years of age, testified, however, that he saw with Our Lady, “St. Joseph and St. John, and an altar with a lamb on the altar, and a cross behind the lamb. The figures were full and round, as if they had body and life. As we approached, they seemed to go back a little towards the gable.” It rained during the manifestation, he continued, but the people remained there, some praying, all looking at the vision. When he, himself, had prayed a little, he went into the chapel yard, and thus closer to the vision. seeing everything distinctly. Obviously, the figure of the Blessed Virgin as then seen, and afterwards scrupulously attested by this boy has been perpetuated in the study which, thanks to the reverent concern and genius of artists of recent years, we may now happily distinguish as that of Our Lady of Knock.

“I distinctly beheld the Blessed Virgin life-size,” he declared, “standing about two feet or so above the ground, clothed in white robes which were fastened at the neck. She appeared to be praying. Her eyes were turned, as I saw, towards Heaven. She wore a brilliant crown on her head, and, over the forehead, where the crown fitted the brow, a beautiful rose. The crown appeared brilliant, and of a golden brightness, or deeper hue, than the striking whiteness of the robes she wore. The upper part of the crown appeared to be a series of sparkles, or glittering crosses. I saw her eyes. I noticed her hands and face, and her appearance.”

The general testimony showed that St. Joseph appeared upon the right of Our Lady, his head inclined towards her, whilst St. John occupied the left of the vision, his left hand clasping a book, and his right hand raised as if in preaching. No word was uttered by any of the heavenly visitants. Such was the Apparition of Knock, the convincing appeal of which has been unshaken in countless hearts not only in Ireland but in every part of the world in which the name of Mary Mother of God is known and loved, for three score years.

The vision upon the evening of the 21st was not, however, the only one. Several further manifestations took place at intervals during the ensuing seven months.

Prodigious lights, flaming orbs, and stars of extraordinary radiance were seen about the spot of the Apparition on the Feast of the Epiphany, 6th January, 1880.

A little more than a month later, 10th February, eve of the Feast of Our Lady of Lourdes, silvery clouds appeared, with red tongues of flame shooting down from the skies, and in the midst of the wonder, standing upon a cloud, the Immaculate Mother. Three figures, with Our Blessed Lady again in the central position, were seen two days afterwards, 12th February. Finally, on 24th March and the two following days, embracing the vigil and Feast of the Annunciation, Our Saviour crucified was manifest. A peculiarly illuminated figure of the Blessed Virgin was also seen, and, ultimately, St. Joseph with the Divine Child.

Long inherent traditions of a characteristic devotion to the Mother of God had, so to speak, prepared the people of Knock for the worthy acceptance of the wonder. Mary had been the loved intermediary of their trust in God through years of temporal travail. The humble piety with which they celebrated the Apparition shows how clearly they appreciated the unparalleled favour as an occasion only for the rejoicing of the soul. All their pious appreciation of the occurrence was concentrated in quiet thanksgiving to Almighty God. Spoken pride in the matter there was none, and their innocence of any endeavour to advance the fact of the Apparition to the material advantage of themselves, or of their village, and, indeed, of any desire that it should be availed of for the glorification of Knock, a hamlet of poor sinners, as one of them declared, or even be noised beyond the parish boundaries, was very marked. It was evidence of their worthiness that such a heavenly manifestation should have taken place in their midst.

The parish priest of Knock at the date of the Apparition was the Ven. Bartholomew Aloysius Cavanagh, Archdeacon of Tuam, a man of great sanctity and austerity, who was referred to as a saint even whilst he lived. In his priestly labours, it is said, love for the Mother of God, and attachment to the Holy Souls in Purgatory, were two particular characteristics.”His sermons, always simple, were full of that ever-present devotion to the Mother of God, for whom his favourite title was “the ever Immaculate Mother of God.” We now know that his people attributed the great favour of the reported vision of Our Blessed Lady to the holiness of their pastor. The late Mrs. O”Connell (née Mary Beirne), who was one of the most important witnesses, held that view strongly, and repeatedly, expressed it.”

Archdeacon Cavanagh was not himself a witness of the Apparition, nor yet of any of the visions of the subsequent months. But in the seclusion of the thatched and whitewashed cottage, than which he would suffer no grander parochial residence, he had, it would appear, his own intimate visions of Our Lady.”I heard the Blessed Virgin speaking on two occasions, and saw her more than once, he has related. The same personal account reveals how from the Feast of St. Francis Xavier, 3rd December, 1880, when he was so favoured for the first time, he frequently, in the morning as well as at night, saw heavenly lights in his room, particularly on the Feasts of St. John Evangelist, 27th December and the Epiphany, but oftener, as he declared, than he would relate.”I called my niece and my servants on two or three occasions to -witness these lights,” the account concludes,”and they saw them for nearly an hour each time, as they can testify. A great many other manifestations took place, which I would not wish to speak of.” It should, however, be added that the saintly Archdeacon also testified as to having seen at the gable of the church at noon-day, heavenly lights in four columns with a figure surmounting one. Two men, who had seen this phenomenon at a considerable distance, drew his attention to it. There was a representation of an altar with stations grouped upon it to the east of the columns, he stated, whilst the remaining spaces of the gable were scrolled.

It was not to have been expected that the Apparition at Knock should have long remained a merely local wonder. Rapidly the news spread into the neighbouring parishes, thus throughout the country and abroad, bringing to the previously obscure village before a week had passed a concourse of pilgrims and of sufferers in need of heavenly relief from spiritual or physical maladies. The sensationalist and the curious, too, descended in force upon the village, the rear of this motley army of interest being brought up by press representatives from many parts, and prominent among them the special writers of several of the leading British newspapers.

The first recorded cure, the prodigious recovery of a person who had been hopelessly deaf, took place twelve days after the Apparition. It was quickly followed by others even more wonderful. A man stark blind regained his sight . . . A tubercular hip was miraculously made whole . . . A man was completely cured of spinal trouble. Spiritual favours kept pace with temporal blessings. There were in abundance, recalls to grace, reclamations from long lives of sin, rescues from moral despair, conversions to the True Faith, vocations. Within a year, the Diary kept by Archdeacon Cavanagh had record of several hundred cures, among the number, cases of cancer, paralysis, dropsy, rupture and epilepsy. The sixty years diffusion of heavenly aid through the advocacy of Our Lady of Knock, Queen of Ireland, had been graciously inaugurated.”Miracles were then the order of the day,” declared our previously-quoted preacher of 1936,”Never a Sunday or feast-day without some half-dozen miracles; but the one I was privileged to witness that day (the cure of the blind man already mentioned) was one of those we term in Theology as of first-class order.

As the Church, following the essential course of caution, is never precipitate in such matters, the ecclesiastical authorities of the Archdiocese of Tuam in which the parish is situate, remained, reticent and inactive in regard of the Apparition during the immediately ensuing months. But presently the reports from Knock, and the daily scenes there rendered the practical attention of the diocesan superiors advisable, if not imperative. Accordingly, on 8th October, 1879, an informal Commission of Enquiry, constituted by authority of the Archbishop of Tuam, was set up, and the depositions of the witnesses taken. The Commission consisted of the illustrious Irish scholar and historian, Canon Ulick Bourke, Canon James Waldron, Parish Priest of Ballyhaunis, and Archdeacon Cavanagh. Its deliberations, however, referred only to the occurrence of 21st August, omitting consideration of the subsequent phenomena, of which there exists, as a consequence, no official record.

As to the evidence which it was their duty to take, the Commissioners are said to have been satisfied that it was trustworthy. Among the heads of their enquiry were the considerations (a) as to whether the Apparition could be claimed to have emanated from natural causes; (b) as to whether there was any positive fraud. In the first cited particular it was reported that no solution as from natural causes could be offered, and in the second that such a suggestion had never, even remotely, been entertained.

But with the presentation of the report, the activities of the Commission obviously came to an end. Nor after the death of Archdeacon Cavanagh in 1897, was there any official, or systematic, return of the graces and favours attributed to recourse to the intercession of Our Lady at Knock, though these have been as numerous and as prodigious since that date as ever before. Yet it is right to acknowledge that all record of intervening cures and answers to prayer at the Shrine have not been lost, for through the years, private persons have taken notes as a result of which, account of many marvellous favours vouchsafed to pilgrims of the period, 1897–1929, has happily been preserved.

It would be almost a contempt of the historic renown of Knock-Mhuire to suggest, even by omission, that its claim to the veneration of men was suffered to pass unchallenged by scepticism, or uncommented upon by the ribald and profane. For, at least, a year after the Apparition, indeed, the Shrine attracted the scoffer and the doubter but exercised, too, the minds of many who were to be regarded as honest critics.

The attempted jibes of a section of the English and Scottish press, and the verbose hostility of the Orange-tinted organs of the Irish press, fell successively flat, and the doubter, as a rule was charitably left to nurse his misgivings in conscience and silence. Yet, when some of the latter made open controversy of their disbelief in the genuineness of the Knock vision, Catholics not being absent from their ranks, the matter had to be faced and the defence of the Shrine as openly prosecuted.

An extensive series of arguments was sustained by different persons in different parts to suggest for the Apparition an origin lesser than that of the supernatural, but these were effectively disposed of by the inability of their very protagonists to prove that the phenomenon had been produced by natural causes, or by material methods. The challenge of doubt, therefore, dwindling in a short time to the one contention that defenders of Knock frankly admitted could have suggested a possibility of solution, namely that a magic lantern had been availed of.

It was decided that the possibility should be explored, at Father Francis Lennon, Professor of Science at Maynooth College made little delay in transporting to Knock a powerful magic lantern, the rays of which he directed from every conceivable angle upon the gable of the Apparition, but only with such result as compelled him to declare the magic lantern contention as “morally speaking, impossible.” A like endeavour was made with equally negative result by an English journalist, and again by a body of some twenty priests from different places, who, with a complete and up-todate magic lantern, as unavailingly re-picturized the vision before the eyes of all the original witnesses.

Mary Beirne declared that the priests sought to convince them that the pictures were what they had seen on the evening of 21st August, 1879, but added that they were not like the manifestation.”No one could make them like the Apparitions!” she concluded. At length, even the correspondent of the London Daily Telegraph, who had given vigilant attention upon the spot to the story of Knock and its immediate sequence, particularly to -the magic lantern theory, expressed his agreement that the impossibility of that contention had been proven, and, to his credit be it said, he duly reported his finding to the world in the columns of his newspaper.

Here it were meet to refer to what has been written concerning Knock-Mhuire by the erudite liturgical authority and canonist, Father Herbert Thurston, S.J.”I find it hard to believe that these people-simple folk of all ages-were deliberately lying when they stated that they stood or knelt for an hour or more looking at these motionless figures and the illuminated wall of the church in the pouring rain. Although there were two or three children among those who saw the figures, the children were not the first to see them. All the witnesses there were in substantial agreement, though with slight divergences in their description of what they saw.”

After the conclusion of the Commission of Enquiry in 1879, the ecclesiastical authorities took no further step in the matter of the shrine. But during the ensuing half-century the spontaneous and affectionate devotion of the faithful in all parts of the country fostered the habit of approach and confidence to such effect that Knock became one of the outstanding memorials of Irish Catholic Faith. Meanwhile, the return of remarkable spiritual and temporal favours continued, and there gradually generated a feeling among some leading Catholics in the West that the definite perpetuation of the Shrine, and of the honour of Our Lady of Knock, had assumed the character and urgency of a conscientious duty.

It was in 1935 that His Grace the present Archbishop of Tuam, Most Rev. Dr. Gilmartin, having been approached by these zealous lay people, was pleased to appoint a Commission for the purpose of formulating all matters relevant to the ultimate submission to the Holy See of the claim for the approval of the Shrine. This Commission, which still functions, takes the evidence of all reported cures or favours. A year after its appointment, its deliberations had so magnificently progressed that the Archbishop was enabled to take the forward step of submitting the facts and claim of Knock-Mhuire for examination by the Sacred Congregation of Rites.

The year 1935 was, in fact, a period of the most encouraging advance. Simultaneously with the establishment of the Commission, His Grace the Archbishop ordered a Crusade of Prayer, still enthusiastically proceeding, that its avowed endeavour for the canonical recognition of the Shrine would be speedily and fully attained. A few months later, he approved of the recruitment of a body to be known as the Society for the Promotion of the Cause of Knock Shrine. The objects of this association, the members of which have already rendered splendid service in the development of the devotion of Knock-Mhuire, are the furtherance of the Crusade of Prayer, the organization of pilgrimages, and the assistance at the Shrine of sick and infirm pilgrims. The members are also expected to co-operate, when required, with the Doctors in control of the Medical Bureau.

The latter essential establishment also dates from 1935. More than thirty doctors immediately offered their services, and the Sisters of Charity of St. Vincent de Paul placed at their disposal a room in their hostel, also guaranteeing the assistance of a trained nursing sister throughout the annual pilgrimage season. Valuable work has been done at Knock by the devoted professional men of the Medical Bureau, which is now under the auspices of that praiseworthy association of Catholic physicians, The Guild of SS. Luke, Cosmas, and Damian.

Definite directions have been made by the Bureau for all invalids approaching the Shrine, and these are rigidly enforced, the principal requirement being that invalids come to Knock provided with a certificate from their own doctor, so that in the event of a cure a full history of the case should be immediately available. But the only purpose of the Bureau is to decide whether a cure had been, or could have been, effected by any means known to medical knowledge, and non-Catholic, or non-believing, doctors may be admitted to it.

In regard to this concentration of expert medical opinion upon the spot in case of emergency the dream of Archdeacon Cavanagh has been realized. He is said to have visualized, and even predicted the rise of the many institutions which have grown up around, and attendant upon, the Shrine. The provision of a hostel for pilgrims may have been inevitable, but it originated, none the less, in the plans for the Knock of the future pondered by” the good pastor of the Apparition period. The existing hostel, in which since 1930 the Sisters of Charity of St. Vincent de Paul have provided for the accommodation of visitors, temporary and permanent, was, indeed, by him erected. In it he hoped some day to house a community of priests, or monks, charged with providing for the passing needs of men visiting the shrine.

This aspect of his dream has almost been realized in the Committee of Priests desirous of rendering voluntary assistance in the spiritual interests of pilgrims, which, with the approval of Most Rev. Dr. Gilmartin, has more recently been formed. The duties undertaken by these priests consist, of course, of the offering of the Holy Sacrifice, when necessary, at hours not provided for in the standing parochial arrangements, the hearing of Confessions, and the conduct of prayers and of the Stations of the Cross during pilgrimage devotions and vigils.

All services rendered at Knock-Mhuire are voluntarily discharged. Doctors, Nurses, Stewards (or male volunteers for general duty) and Handmaids, which is the description accorded the ladies who come forward to help in the performance of the innumerable duties towards the comfort and convenience of invalids necessary during pilgrimage, are at their posts in pursuit of a labour of Christian love. All come to Knock and board there entirely their own expense.

Pilgrimage experiences are always highly edifying. It is at all rare to see non-pilgrimage visitors at Knock affected even to tears as quickly by the evidences of Irish Catholic Faith appreciable upon every hand as by the plight of the more helpless invalids, very many of whom stoically, and only too obviously, endure increase of pain, and even challenge discomfort and physical danger, in furtherance of their heroic piety and submissive spirit of hope.

Non-Catholic visitors frequently remain over a pilgrimage week-end in order to witness for themselves the singular scenes of which they shall have heard in the hotels and boarding houses of Claremorris and Ballyhaunis, the nearest neighbouring towns and cases have been known in which the experience has resulted in conversion to the True Faith of Christ.

The principal pilgrimage exercised is the traditional Station performed in full requirement by the active pilgrims, passively by the infirm invalids reposing upon bath-chairs and stretchers in front of the out-of-doors altar, though it is right to say that occasionally some of the latter insist upon being wheeled into the general procession, a wish honoured whenever advisable by the Handmaid, or Steward, on duty. The Station requires a preliminary visit to the Blessed Sacrament, after which the Stations of Cross are performed. The pilgrim next recites the Fifteen Mysteries of the Rosary as he moves around the exterior of church, an exercise most impressive when, as upon organised occasions, hundreds, sometimes thousands, join in processional performance. The Litany of the B.V.M. is then said at the Apparition gable as a prelude, so to speak, to return to the church for a concluding visit to the Blessed Sacrament. The order for organized pilgrimages is the same, with, however, the addition of hymns, including the Credo. Invariably in connection those more-public approaches of the Shrine the recitation of the entire Rosary, each five decades being said at pre-arranged intervals is extended throughout the period of the journeys to, and from Knock.

From the outset, all-night vigils have been peculiarly characteristic of the established devotions at the Shrine, and it has been suggested that the hallowed atmosphere of Knock-Mhuire may not fully be appreciated until one shall have participated in this impressive, if somewhat exacting exercise. It has transpired moreover, that many of the outstanding cures have taken place during the vigil, or immediately afterwards. Each vigil commences—with the celebration of the Eucharistic Hour from midnight. Private devotions for a further hour are then prescribed, andfrom two o‘clock until four the pilgrim is engaged in the performance of the traditional Station. This exercise concluded, individual devotion is again resorted to, in preparation for Mass and Holy Communion, whereupon the vigil ends. On the evening of each recurring twenty-first of August, the Apparition is commemorated by a procession in and around the church with lighted candles.

It would be manifestly impossible to include in a work of our present limited scope any recital even remotely approaching a full account of the graces and favours reported from Knock-Mhuire during—recent years. We may, however, briefly offer details of a few of the more arresting cures accounted during the short interval since the launching of the Crusade of Prayer in 1935. Possibly the most remarkable among these later claims was that of a London Sister of Charity, who had long suffered from an ear-trouble, having been attended without avail by several leading specialists. An operation was eventually performed, and the patient was ordered to bed for six months, the surgeon expressing but little hope for her survival, and none for her hearing. But on the following day, the Sister was out of bed, and apparently restored to normal vigour. A non-Catholic doctor, who had previously treated her, was then brought to examine her. He found the wounds healed, and the hearing perfect.”You are cured,” he said,”But it was nothing that I did!,” The Sister attributed her cure solely to the intercession of Our Lady of Knock, in whose honour she had commenced a Novena, applying a piece of cement from the Apparition gable to the affected part. On the fourth day of the Novena she rose in obedience, as she declared, to a voice, saying “Get up, Sister, you are cured!”

In 1936, a young Co. Mayo man was cured of an unsightly and painful rash of long-standing, after bathing his face with water in which a little clay brought from Knock had been placed This sufferer mentions in his thanksgiving that he had had no relief whatever from different methods of treatment, undergone in Dublin and London. A County Wexford child made in I937 marvellous recovery from an attack of meningitis, which had threatened him with imbecility, after his heart-broken parents had, as a last resource, bathed his head with holy water from Knock. From Cork a victim of a serious mastoid reported during the same year, how the wound had unaccountably begun to heal upon return from a pilgrimage to the Shrine, a complete cure being ultimately effected, despite the fact of earlier protracted surgical treatment, which had culminated in two unsuccessful operations. In this case, a slight injury to the face and one of the eyes, sustained during the second operation, was also cured after recourse to Our Lady of Knock. A Sligo pilgrim was cured of neuritis; a Kildare man reported how as a child he had been brought from stone-deafness to perfect hearing after performing the Station at the guidance of his parents; a Mayo mother pre served her baby from imminent danger of choking by sprinkling of Knock water; the crippled arm of a priest was miraculously restored to normality; an American devotee was cured of gangrene after the pious application of clay from near the Shrine; an Australian professional man attributed his recovery from pyorrhea and complete restoration to health, to the advocacy of Our Lady of Knock; a County Galway woman after visiting the shrine was cured of a serious nervous malady which doctors told her had baffled them. Cures as recently reported include also cases of leprosy, cancer, and advanced lung disease.

There are, however, other categories in which the intercession of Mary of Knock has worked wonders for her clients in need.

“My married brother, who has five young children was two years out of work,” runs an acknowledgement from County Limerick.”I made a novena to Our Lady of Knock for him, and the very next day he called to tell me that he hadgot a permanent job with good pay.” A mother attested from County Wicklow that, thanks to Our Lady of Knock, her son successfully passed an examination. Three special favours vouchsafed, one upon the day upon which a Cork pilgrim prayed at the shrine.”I have never ceased to pray that Knock would become the Lourdes of Ireland,” wrote a London lady who after making a pilgrimage had a wonderful answer to prayer. A Galway student, told by his teachers that he was hopelessly backward, and had no chance of success, put his trust; in the intercession of Our Lady of Knock, and passed the examination. The official publications in connection with the Shine suggest that spiritual favours, too, have been so numerous during the short period referred to as to be considered particularly characteristic of Knock.

In view of the references made in the above-quoted acknowledgements to Knock cement, it may be necessary to explain that this substance indicates the coating of the Church gable against which the Apparition was actually manifest. During the years immediately following upon the wonder, pilgrims made a habit of piously detaching portions which they availed of, as seen, in the character of a relic. But for obvious reasons, the practice had to be discontinued, so that pieces of the original wall-fabric are no longer obtainable. Pilgrims, however, are now accustomed to treasure clay taken from the Church enclosure in the near vicinity of the shrine, which, of course, is permissible. Knock water is the ordinary holy water contained in two large tanks placed adjacent to the Apparition Gable, and always accessible to pilgrims. Knock-Mhuire is situated in that part of East Mayo through which meanders the little River Glore, at a distance of about one hundred and twenty miles from Dublin, and at equal distance from Claremorris, Ballyhaunis, and Kiltimagh, a half dozen miles in either instance.

The journey is made by rail to one of the centres named, thence by bus, always in readiness in the case of organized pilgrimages, or by hired conveyance always easily to be procured by private pilgrims. Claremorris is invariably the railway destination of pilgrimages from the South of Ireland, and from the southernmost parts of the West, whilst Kiltirnagh serves for Northern seekers of the Shrine. Pilgrims from Dublin and the East detrain, as a rule, at Ballyhaunis, and come from the West generally by one or other of the railway branch lines connected with either of the termini named. In many cases it should be remarked, pilgrims resident in the nearer but still distant, parts of Connacht make the journey on foot, frequently returning to their homes by the same method.

The village is but one of the many such places characteristic of County Mayo, having in itself but a very small population, housed chiefly in cottages clean and comfortable, but of the olden peculiarly picturesque type. The fame of Knock, however, has pardonably stimulated modest town-planning ambitions in the breasts of its inhabitants, and the interests of the future in this regard are being championed and vigilantly guarded by the Mayo County Council. Grateful tribute is due to that body for having so promptly and so determinedly defeated the attempt to commercialize the possibilities offered by the continual stream of pilgrims at the hallowed place made by persons from outside parts soon after the devotional appeal of Knock had received the new impetus accorded it by the several forward developments of 1935. This action resulted in the removal of some stalls hastily erected for mercantile purposes upon the public road near the church and Shrine, and in the formulation of regulations which will prevent for all time the commercial exploitation of the appeal of Knock-Mhuire by any means. The powers sought and obtained by the Council will, it is pleasing to read, enable that body to negotiate with persons concerned for the purpose of acquiring the land necessary for the better laying out of a suitable surrounding for an Irish Shrine to Our Blessed Lady.

Historically, the village is nondistinctive. Even though within hearing distance of Killala’s broad bay and places of like high sounding note in national story, Knock would appear to have slumbered in philosophic peace whilst the more strenuous chapters of Irish history were being written. Two years previous to the penning of these lines, the writer endeavoured to discover by casual enquiry upon the spot something of outstanding importance in the secular, or national history of the place, but the effort was unrewarded. Two or three men seemed to harbour an idea that something or other had happened in the neighbourhood during Ninety-Eight, though neither could refer informedly to any such occurrence, and all appeared indifferent in regard of its historical importance. Their attitude was a reproof, and though I did not immediately so recognize it, a well-deserved one. I was to have known, as I ought, and as all corners and goers in the village must know, that Knock was reserved for the one occurrence which was to raise its name high above all considerations of common historical import. Nothing meriting special record happened there until that Assumption octave-eve of holy renown. The only illustrious one concerned in extending the name of this Mayo village, and in the making of its fame, was Our Lady of Knock. Mary, the secret of its holiness, is also the secret of its history.

Knock, therefore, has no man-made memorials of village patriotism or prowess. Its parish church, scene of its one and incomparably-memorable event, disclose in its plain walls and slightly ornate bell-tower, the only architectural pretensions of the place. The edifice, which is of cruciform order, and not spacious, was built by Father Patrick O”Grady, P.P., in 1825, the tower, accommodating the principal entrance, being added by Archdeacon Cavanagh during the year following the Apparition. A later pastor, Father John J. Tuffy, considerably enlarged the building in the endeavour to meet the ever-increasing pilgrimage demands. The interior was greatly beautified as a result of further zealous activity upon the part of the same parish priest, though it had already been embellished by frequent gifts made by pilgrims vouchsafed favours at the Shrine. These are now many, the most remarkable being, perhaps, an elaborate banner of green satin,inscribed in letters of gold: “Toronto is Grateful.”

This was presented to the shrine by Most Rev. Dr. Lynch, Archbishop of Toronto, in order to perpetuate his thanksgiving for a favour received upon recourse to Our Lady of Knock very soon after the Apparition. He travelled from Canada in 1882, specially in order to make personal thanksgiving at the Shrine. Archbishop Lynch was probably the first apostle of devotion to Our Lady of Knock beyond the Atlantic, for he preached of her advocacy almost without cease to his own flock, and never failed to urge priests of his own archdiocese visiting Ireland to include in their itinerary a visit to Knock. Afterwards, he wrote an account of the deep impression which his own visit had made upon him, and expressed his conviction that ultimately the Shrine and its devotion would be given canonical approval. Gifts from two other Archbishops are also included among the votive offerings seen in the church interior. One, presented by the late Archbishop Murphy, of Hobart, Tasmania,-a painting in oils of the Apparition, nine feet by seven-is to be seen above the door upon the Epistle side, and, in the corresponding position upon the Gospel side, is a beautifully executed canvas of St. Joseph with the Holy Child, given by Most Rev. Dr. Clune, C.SS.R., Archbishop of Perth, Australia.

The church occupies an expansively enclosed space in mid-village, wherein the first object of interest is the gable (the end, or altar, wall) upon which the Apparition was seen. The hallowed space has now been railed in, but life- size figures of whitest marble have been arranged in reproduction of the wonder exactly as described by the witnesses. Other marble statues are to be seen at different points around the enclosure, the devotional aspect of which has latterly been brought to irresistible completion of appeal by the erection of Stations of the Cross, which are the happy outcome of a widely-circulated shilling-subscription list furthered by the members of the Society for the Promotion of the Cause of Knock Shrine.

Despite the glory of its three score years, and in fact of the almost hourly reports of marvellous graces and favours granted upon supplication of Almighty God through Our Blessed Lady in its name, Knock still, if even to fastdiminishing extent, excites the objections of scepticism. Nevertheless, contention has been reduced to one note of challenge, namely that, contrary to the experience of St. Bernadette at Lourdes, and of favoured mediums of other heavenly manifestations, no word was heard by those to whom the Blessed Virgin appeared at Knock, no message given such as the plea for penance -addressed by the Mother of God to the little rustic maiden of 1858 from the Grotto above the waters of the Gave. Nor did the Apparition occur at any moment of import for the Faith, or for the world, it has been objected, such, as if in confirmation of the Definition of the Dogma of the Immaculate Conception, in the case of Lourdes.

But spoken messages are not essential to the authenticity of claims to visions. Many saints have had visions of Our Divine Lord, of Our Lady, and of other Saints, in which no word was uttered. St. John of the Cross expressed the view that messages are sometimes apt to occasion difficulty in interpretation, the inference being that they are likely to be misunderstood by the average mortal hearer. The Cistercian Father already quoted has dealt with the objection put forward as upon this point, and the reasonableness of his rejoinder cannot but help to fortify the defences of the Knock devotion against further attacks by the sceptics:

The mission of Mary to Knock was not one of rebuke or complaint against our people as was the case at La Salette and Lourdes against the prevailing vices and abuses that were shaking the very-foundations of the Faith in France in those days. Neither was it a call to do penance, as on those occasions. No, Mary’s mission to her faithful Irish people that day was rather one of compassion and comfort in those dark days of their sorrow and sufferings, with an implied admonition, no doubt, ofdangers ahead, and the imperative need of prayer.”

As to the urgency of heavenly indication at the period in which the Apparition at Knock occurred, it need only he recalled that even as late as 1879, the peasant population of Ireland lived under conditions in regard of which an English writer stated humanity would shrink startled and appalled. Injustice trod cruelly upon Ireland. The Apparition of the Virgin Mother of God at Knock, proved then, the illumination of the temporal future of the Irish peasant or agricultural population. With what satisfaction may we got recall the inspiriting experience of having heard the utmost proof of that illumination, in the person of a Catholic Minister of an Irish native government (Mr. Tomas Derrig, Minister for Education) declare in a lecture on the Apparition, delivered in a Dublin theatre in December, 1936 “This bright light seems to have been the harbinger of better days for our people. World-wide sympathy was aroused. America, Australia, France, India, and Great Britain subscribed huge sums for relief. Seed was distributed; works were started; a good harvest followed. A tragedy, perhaps, as great as that of 1846 was averted. Michael Davitt established the Land League, and this was soon followed by a Land Act and other measures of amelioration. Since then conditions have been improving steadily, and, thank God, we are never likely to see the spectre of Famine in Ireland again.”

As we close this sketch, the sixtieth year since the Apparition at Knock has been completed. In the fact we find our concluding reflection. Does it not suffice as proof of the authenticity of the claim that even under the fire of ridicule, adverse criticism, and open hostility, the belief that Our Blessed Lady with St. Joseph and St. John Evangelist stood for two hours in the midst of those humble Mayo villagers has flourished as a flower of Irish Faith, sending forth its fragrance to the ends of the earth?

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Label Your Luggage

ROBERT NASH, S.J

INDEX

I

It is very important to have it labelled-at all times indeed, but particularly at present. If you entertain any doubts about this, may I ask you to read the screaming notice in the window of the bus office? If even still you cherish any lingering delusions concerning the need of a label, just try what will happen if you attempt to leave your luggage in the cloakroom without one. The attendant will rap out at you: “This bag is not labelled. Labels can be bought at the counter, and write distinctly, please.” And having unburdened himself, in stentorian tones, of these illuminating statements he pushes your bag back towards you again and proceeds to look after the needs of the next person in the queue.

Well, it’s fair enough. How can you expect the much -tired man to pick out yours later on if it is not labelled? One bus or train has now to do duty for the six or seven of pre-war days, and one result of this drastic curtailment is a big increase in the amount of luggage to be handed, consequent on the increase in the proportionate number of persons travelling. When, a few hours later, you return to the office to claim your bag your friend the porter withdraws into the background to a place littered with what seems to be half the city’s luggage. Green bags and brown bags and black bags, bags large and bags small, tennis racquets, bicycles, paper parcels, bundles of newspapers, luckless sickly chickens tied together in pairs, workingmen’s tools, boxes marked “with care” or “fragile,” cases with the warning “this side up” or “perishable”- this is the conglomeration in the midst of which he picks his steps, your friend the porter, keeping his eye open all the time for the particular piece of property which belongs to you.

It’s labelled. Yours would be, of course. So he glances from the docket in his hand to the dockets dangling from the various trunks and other oddments on every side. Yours has a distinguishing mark, a seal by which he is enabled to recognise it, and presently his quest is rewarded. You watch him make a jerk forward and pounce upon an object, and sure enough when he drags it forth from its hiding place into the light of day it proves to be your suitcase, and he dumps it down on the counter before you.

But it is not in the interests of the Company only that you should label your luggage. If at the end of your journey, in the joy and excitement of meeting your friends on the platform, you have the misfortune to mislay or forget that suitcase, what is going to happen to it now? On remembering, your first thought will be: “And it wasn’t even labelled!” And with that thought there settles down upon you a sinking feeling, for you know that a lost bag or bicycle without a label stands a very poor chance of finding its way home.

We may very well look upon our own selves as so many pieces of property which are belonging to Jesus Christ. No need, I take it, to stress the truth that we are not mere chattels, for by sanctifying grace we have been actually raised to a state in which we share in the very life of God Himself. God owns us, by every kind of right and title, for God created us, God redeemed us, and God It is Who sustains us In existence from one second to the next. Did He cease to think about us and thus uphold us, we must at that instant lapse into the nothingness from which He drew us forth. And is there any label to be affixed which will at once show this ownership? Is there any seal to be stamped upon us which will prove that we belong to Him? Our Lord compares Himself to a shepherd and us to His sheep,and He adds: “I know Mine, and Mine know Me.” But how does He know them? What is the sign and the seal? Has He too a label for His property?

Yes He has, and He tells us very definitely what it is. I see Him seated at the Supper Table. He is speaking to the group about Him and I catch His words quite plainly:

“By this shall all men know that you are My disciples, that you have love, one for another.” So there it is, the mark which characterises property belonging to Him. A true Christian can be picked out by his practical charity, by the love he shows towards his fellow man because that fellow man takes the place of Jesus Christ.

On that same night there leaned against the breast of Our Lord, John the disciple whom Jesus loved. Years later he was to write three wonderful letters, the theme of which would be, in the main, the need of this strong mutual love one for another. “My dearest,” he would say, “if God hath so loved us, we ought also to love one another.” A conclusion which at first sight seems a littlestrange. Wouldn’t you have expected rather: “My dearest, if God hath so loved us, we ought also to love God?” But no. With the memory of the Master’s parting discourse vividly in his mind John put the conclusion in his own way and knew it was logical.

Andwhen his life was drawing to a close he never tired of repeating to those who came to talk with him: “My little children, love one another.” “And why do you always tell us the very same thing?” they asked, a little weary perhaps from the monotony of the refrain. “Because,” he told them, “it was the Master’s own special commandment. If it alone be perfectly observed all else will be right.” Those were the days when even the pagans were able to read the label. “See,” they would exclaim, “See how these Christians love one another.”

“Love” is one of the most sadly abused words in the English language. One of the abuses from which it suffers is to confuse it with a mere philanthropy, a mere kindliness and readiness to relieve pain, but whether that pain be found in a man or in a cat or a horse, does not seem to matter so very much. Natural goodwill of this sort is right enough in its way but it is by no means the test of discipleship with Christ. The man who has grasped the import of the great commandment recognises that every human being upon whom his eyes rest takes the place of Jesus Christ, and he loves him and is kind to him for that reason.

It is therefore no real Christian charity to alleviate pain or scatter largesse merely because I have a horror of seeing suffering in man or beast, or merely because I am in the humour to be generous with my money. Such a natural motive is not necessarily excluded but the one Our Lord demands goes much deeper. What is it?

The answer becomes very evident when you recall that the second reason for labelling your luggage is to guard against loss of your property. Turn now for a moment to the seventh chapter of St. Matthew and you come upon a reference to works which, though good in themselves, were discovered to be devoid of all merit when those who did them arrived at the final stage of their journey. “Many will say to Me in that day,” says Our Lord, ““Lord, Lord, have we not prophesied in Thy name and cast out devils in Thy name and done many miracles in Thy name?” And then I will profess unto them: “I never knew you. Depart from Me, you that work iniquity.””

Before you close your bible please go on a few pages more and this time open St. Luke at his eighteenth chapter. Here is the account before you of the prayer of the pharisee and the publican. The pharisee proclaimed that he fasted twice in the week and gave tithes of all he possessed. The publican struck his breast and begged for mercy, and he went down to his house justified rather than the other.

Now it was probably quite true that that pharisee did those righteous deeds, and that those condemned in the judgment did cast out devils and work miracles and prophecy. Why then are they rejected? For no one will deny that it is an excellent thing to fast and to give alms, nor will anyone call in question the value of miracles and the blessings that accrue from them. Yet all these things, good in themselves, have gone astray. They are lost luggage, and lost beyond recovering as far as eternal life is concerned. Why? Because they did not bear the stamp upon them. The motive was all wrong. They had no label to prove that they were done for love of Jesus Christ and for the neighbour as taking His place.

Those alms were given merely for show. Those fasts by which the body was starved were made to pander to the appetite of an overbearing and insatiable pride. The miracles were Satan’s counterfeit, Beelzebub feigning to cast out Beelzebub but in reality only tightening his grip on the foolish agent whom he had duped. The long prayers rose up from a hypocritical heart. A truly terrifying confirmation this is of St. Paul’s teaching: “If I should distribute all my goods to feed the poor and if I should deliver my body to be burned, and not have charity, it profiteth me nothing.” It is all lost at the end of the journey.

So kind deeds are not enough, nor are penances enough, nor even miracles. If the label is going to convey all these safely to eternal life they must be done from the right motive. “Let all your things be done in charity.” Love is the fulfilling of the law; the twofold love of God and of the neighbour for His sake contains all the law and the prophets. Love for another, therefore, to be genuine, must be the overflow of my love for God. By grace we are all united to Christ and to each other, so as to form together one great organism, the mystical body of Christ. That is why the heart of the true Christian goes out in a sincere love towards everybody, the tinker and tailor and candlestick maker, because (and this is the all-important point), every single individual who crosses his path takes the place of Jesus Christ. He is part of the mystical body and therefore to be loved.

“By this shall all men know that you are My disciples.”

A cup of cold water given from this motive merits a reward surpassing great in eternity. A tiny farthing dropped from this motive as temple tribute by a poor widow is beyond reckoning more pleasing in God’s sight than the lavish alms handed out by the Pharisees “that they might be seen by men.”

You will find still further confirmation of this in Our Lord’s account of the last judgment. To the just He will turn and say:”I was hungry and you gave Me to eat, thirsty and you gave Me to drink, a stranger and you took Me in, naked and you covered Me . . .” And they shall ask in astonishment: “When, Lord?” And He shall answer: “Amen I say to you, as long as you did it to one of these, My least brethren, you did it to Me.” And these shall go into everlasting life. They have reached the journey’s end laden with good works. Their luggage bore the right label and it has all arrived safely.

Just because that same label is missing those on His left hand are condemned. “As long as you did it not to one of these My leastbrethren, neither did you do it unto Me.” For this alone they are excluded from the kingdom. “And these shall go into everlasting punishment.” Many of them probably did kind deeds. Many of them submitted to the conventions of good society and were considered models of refinement and tact. But once again all was vitiated by the motive. Underneath there lurked the galling insincerity of a heart enslaved by worldliness. There was no real love, only make-believe. There was no seeing Christ in others and loving them for that reason. If they did kindly deeds, or repressed signs of annoyance, or spoke pleasingly, it was all done from selfish motives- to win applause, to secure worldly advancement, to curry favour with those who wielded worldly power. The motive underlying all their external show was self in one form or another, and in that selfishness they are now confirmed. Their goods were not labelled, and so Our Lord, because He is just, must tell them at the end: “I never knew you.”

One more scene to illustrate the closeness of the union which binds Christ to the member of His mystical body. Saul of Tarsus is kneeling on the dusty road outside the city of Damascus. He is a bigot and a persecutor of the Christians, and today Our Lord shows himself to him and asks him: “Saul, Saul, why persecutest thou me. I am Jesus Whom thou persecutest.” Now you will observe that at this time Our Lord had already ascended into heaven. How then could He complain that the wrath of Saul was directed against Him? How, except by identifying Himself with His disciples? Injure the hand or the eye in the human body and you injure the whole person. Injure a member of the mystical body and Jesus complains: “You are doing that to Me.”

All that has been said thus far is put forward by way of explaining the teaching of Our Lord about love of the neighbour. Before we pass on to the second part of our paper it may be worth while gathering up the points He stresses under a few heads. You tie on a label for two reasons-to distinguish the property which belongs to you from everyone else’s, and to prevent your things from going astray. Practical charity is the “label” distinguishing the true Christian. Without this label the luggage will certainly go astray at the end of life’s journey. This charity must be built upon a supernatural motive- the kind deeds done because you recognise that your neighbour takes Christ’s place, is part of His mystical body. So Intent Is Christ on making you understand the importance of all this that He calls charity His own special commandment. “This is Mycommandment, that you love one another as I have loved you.”

II

So much, then for the theory. We now come to the practical working out of this teaching of Christ in our own daily lives. You would be inclined to say at the outset that it is impossible to overstate the far-reaching effects of this principle. One is almost bewildered by the multitude of implications of the great commandment which at this point begin to range themselves before the mind’s eye.

You are reading these lines, let me suppose, on a Sunday afternoon. Whoever you are and wherever you live you will not go through the week ahead of you without running into innumerable opportunities of treating others as you would treat Christ.

You are a teacher and on each of the next six days you are going to stand several hours before your class. Those young people are eaten up, you tell me, with love of the world, and you almost despair of making any impression on them and awakening in them a true religious sense. They come to you with minds dissipated by the reading of sentimental novels, with their Impressions of the meaning and sacredness of human existence warped by film stars, with no thought in their minds except amusement and a good time. Christ is very effectively disguised here, isn’t He? It is at times like this that your spirit of faith is tested. If they were easy to manage, solidly pious, responsive to your efforts, you would have a powerful stimulus to your zeal. But after all nearly anybody would delight in leading a class of that sort. It is when you have to penetrate the disguise and discover Christ beneath that you show most convincingly that your zeal is of sterling quality. “You did it to Me”-every effort on behalf of your unruly brood is marked by Him, and, for your consolation, is bound to produce its “effects, if not here, certainly elsewhere, perhaps at the antipodes. Nothing done from the motive of charity is lost, despite appearances. The label will make it secure at the end. Bon courage then.

You are an employer in shop or factory. Does it ever remotely occur to you to apply the practice of the great commandment in your dealings with those men under you? Or do you regard them as “hands” merely, as cogs to be used for the efficient runningof your machine? Isn’t it astounding when you sit back and think of It, that He assures you solemnly that what you do to them is done to Him? And if the employee came to look upon his employer as holding his authority from God, and if he did his day’s work in a spirit of loyalty and obedience not to a mere man but to God’s vice- regent, with what conscientiousness he would labour, and what treasures he would daily accumulate in heaven! If all this seems fantastic the sorrowful admission has to be made by way of explanation that even we Catholic employers and Catholic employees have got far away from Christ’s standards. We are forgetting the label.

Here is a nurse or doctor in the hospital ward. Those patients are entrusted to you, not only that yon may tend to the needs of the poor body, “which, despite all medical skill, must die soon in any case. But the eye of faith recognises Christ behind that cancer or lupus or diphtheria or fractured limb. As you fasten that bandage, or mix that medicine, or apply that poultice, you may hear the very voice of Christ speaking to you through your patient’s lips and telling you: “You are doing this to Me!” You are touching Him in a member of His mystical body. Souls, not mere bodies, are all around you; how much apostolic spirit is in you?

The great principle can find its way, and should, even into trifles. You give up your place in a bus or tram -you have done that to Christ. You refuse to elbow your way in the queue and another secures the last place which should have been yours-suppress your anger and your deed is regarded by Christ as done to Him. You share your umbrella with this poor half-drenched old woman- you are giving, shelter to Christ. You carry the parcel for that messenger boy or those letters for the postman up that avenue where you were going in any case, and so you save him a walk of ten minutes; you are gracious and considerate towards those who cannot retaliate, the waiter or the charwoman or the street singer; you close the window with a good grace when you very much want to leave it open, to satisfy the whim of somebody who is hipped about draughts; you make place for another, and willingly, in your bench in Church; you refrain from looking back with an expression of annoyance at the man who exasperatesyou by “whispering” his prayers aloud; you check a mannerism because you have discovered, perhaps by accident, that it gets on someone’s nerves; you put aside your pipe or cigarette smilingly, in the railway carriage, just because the dear old lady sniffs ominously and pointedly asks her companion if this is not a non-smoking compartment; you laugh good-humouredly when inwardly you are seething with annoyance, and nobody suspects what it costs you- the thousand and one little acts that can be seized upon and sanctified if we realise that all this is done to Christ in one of the members of His mystical body.

The great commandment gives us the clue too, to much that is otherwise unintelligible in the saints” lives. You see, they are overwhelmed with gratitude to Our Lord for the graces with which He has inundated their souls. They understand much more profoundly than we do the astonishing truth that His Heart is on fire with love for them. And they experience an ache, an immense longing, to prove to Him the sincerity of their love for Him. Then they ponder on the great commandment and it begins to send its rays, like a great arc-light, into every nook and, corner of their daily lives. Here is the way, par excellence, of repaying love for love. “You did it to Me”! Such a joyful discovery is this, Jesus living in His members!

That is why Francis Xavier tore his heart out of his much-loved Spain and separated himself from friends and relatives, to slave for souls in India and Japan. That is why St. Catherine of Siena watched by the bedside and waited lovingly on an old witch whom nobody else would go near. And the ungrateful creature repaid the saint by spreading shameful calumnies about her, and Catherine retaliated by redoubling her attentions! That is why the Jesuit martyr, St. Noel Chabanel, after trying for years without success, to master the language of the North American Indians, bound himself by vow to remain in the midst of them till his death! The charity of the saints is indeed all-embracing, but if they have a predilection it would seem to be for those who are ungrateful and inappreciative. For if you show love to such, you have a surer guarantee that you are actuated by the motive of pure love of Christ. “If you love them that love you,” says Our Lord, “what thanks are due to you? Do not also the heathens this?”

It may be worth while illustrating further how the practice of the great commandment meets you at every turn. Here comes into your office the bore, and when you are very busy too! You foresee that this interview is going to consume at least twenty minutes of your precious time. And of course he will tell you, in his leisurely way, his funny story, which you have already endured ten times, on a rough calculation. Instinctively you prepare yourself to cut him short and show him the door. Instead, you suppress all sign of irritation. Instead, you listen with apparent interest for the eleventh time, to his tale, and at the end you pat him on the shoulder, shake hands and send him off with a cheerysmile. Now why didn’t you bustle him out? Because you saw Christ in him, and a grateful Christ looks out at you through the man’s eyes and assures you: “You have done that to Me.”

(In parentheses let me forestall a possible objection. Of course if you can escape the bore and husband your valuable time, without hurting him, by all means do so. This can be done by jokingly bowing him out, or better still by managing to see him first!).

You step out of your office at lunch hour and a poor man stops you to ask for an alms. All right, snap at him if you will. Tell him what you think of frauds like him. But before you begin your tirade may I tip you on the arm and remind you that what you are going to say is said to one who takes Christ’s place? Yes, even if the man in sober truth is a swindle. “You did it to Me.”

Or you have to deal with a sinner, a man or woman whose evil life is the talk of the town. You are going to upbraid him, are you? To denounce him in harsh cutting tones? But after all the man has sinned, not against you but against God, and God is all eagerness to forgive him. What right have you, then, to hurl invectives at his head?You have often prayed, haven’t you, to have your trespasses forgiven in the same measure as you forgive others? Suppose Our Lord had taken you at your word? Suppose He had treated you after your sin, as you are on the point of treating the man standing here? And anyhow, what is going to be the result of your harshness? Is it going to make your sinner a genuine convert? I doubt it. Much more likely is it that it will harden him in his sin. “You will catch more flies with a spoon of honey than with a hundred barrels of vinegar.” At any rate, be chary of how you speak, for you are addressing Christ in one of His members.

You have always been on friendly terms with Mrs. So-and-So, but the other day she snubbed you, just because she happened to be walking with Lady Furcoat from Aristocratic Square! The idea! You are fuming with Indignation. So she considers her salute a compliment, does she? Very well. Just wait till you meet her again and you will teach her?

Next day you see her approaching and this time you observe with delight that she is alone. Here now is your chance and you almost lick your lips in pleasant anticipation. This is where you get your own back, stare her full in the face (so as to make quite sure she knows you have seen her), and then very deliberately look the other way. Yes, it is very human, I suppose. But let me ask you: Suppose Jesus Christ was walking up this street towards you, would you, a Catholic, dream of acting towards Him with this studied rudeness? Why, of course not. Well, open wide your eye of faith for He assures you that He is, in very truth, hidden there in that vain silly woman approaching you.

But Our Lord would never have snubbed me as she did. Granted. We are not defending her either. She too must learn that He regards her foolish pride as shown towards Him. But though she is wrong, He is going to take your return as done to Him. Where am I to find words to express the merit you will gain and the proof of love you will give Him if you smother your indignation? So please dispel that frown, and at once, for she is quite near by now. Come along and give her your most friendly smile. Can you hear the echo in your heart: “You have done that to Me”?

That wealthy old aunt of yours had left you a nice substantial little sum in her will. But busybody came to hear of it and whispered lies about you, which the dear soul believed. Forthwith you find yourself cut off from your share. Of course you are in a fever of anger. Now listen. Would you like to do something heroic, for the sake of Him Who died for you, for your aunt, and even for busybody? Would you welcome an opportunity of giving Christ a really magnificent proof of your love? All right. Seal your lips. Let not a word of complaint against the manifest injustice escape you, and begin to-morrow a novena of the most fervent Holy Communions you ever made, and offer it-for busybody!

You dearly love to discuss a spicy piece of scandal over the teacups. Up comes the name of the absent one, and at once you are all alert. Yes, push your cup to the right and your plate to the left. With your dainty fingers lay hold of that absent person’s character. Settle back now in your chair, tighten your grip on the poor reputation, and prepare to tear it to shreds, section by section. limb by limb, atom by atom. But before you begin let me ask you to pause for just one moment and look in my direction.Down there in the secret places of your heart please say three times: “I am Jesus Whom thou persecutest.” That is all I want. Now turn your head again in the direction of your table companion and proceed-if you dare!

You are assistant in that shop and standing behind the counter. Just look at who is coming in. Oh, one glance is all you need for you know her well-that impossible nuisance who pulls the whole place down about your ears and then calmly marches off without buying anything. Fortunate, isn’t it, that you saw her in time? This is where you fade out behind the curtain and allow the other unsuspecting assistant to walk into the lion’s-or should we say into the lioness’s-mouth? What a laugh you will have at her afterwards! How clever you think yourself to wriggle so opportunely out of this unpleasant corner! Listen again. Refuse to wriggle out. Take on the old lady, wait on her pleasantly, smile and chat with her as if she was the one person in the whole world with whom you wanted to spend the remainder of the afternoon! Forestall the other girl. Restrain your desire to appear the smart one. But why on earth should I? Because down in the depths of your soul you catch the tiny whisper of Jesus: “As long as you did it to one of these you did it to Me.” And if the other girl doesn’t see why you did it, don’t you tell her. And if the laugh appears to be on her side, join in it!

You must let me remind you too, that charity begins at home. If there is one place more than another where you should try to live up to this high ideal it is in your relations with the other members of your family. There are some who keep all their smiles for outsiders and are nearly impossible to live with at home. Outbursts of bad temper, constant quarrelling and bickering, bad example to children, back answering from children to parents-where would there be room for all that if each member of the household had come to recognise Christ in father and mother and brother and sister?

I suppose that in even the best families there will be an occasional misunderstanding. Or some weakness will betray itself in husband or wife. It is no small part of charity towards the home to guard carefully those “family secrets.” To be constantly telling the world about your bad-tempered husband or nagging wife, to rail bitterly against the exaction of father or mother-no, let us keep our family business and difficulties within the walls of our own home and have sense enough to understand that there are little matters or great which should not be spoken of outside.

And what about the neighbouring families? From my heart I hope you are not the type of Catholic who keeps up longstanding differences with those around you. Such conduct is nothing short of highly scandalous. You pass that man or woman and refuseto bid them the time of the day. You drive to Mass on Sunday but you wouldn’t dream of offering him or her a lift as they trudge along. The tradition grows up with your children and from their earliest years they are taught to ignore those people who live, perhaps, within a stone’s throw of the home. And why? All because of some miserable misunderstanding or petty quarrel. Because in the heat of the moment you and he exchanged a few angry words. And for all these years you harden your heart and harbour this feeling of resentment and refuse to forgive and forget. Yes, disgraceful is the word, and don’t forget the label. This too you are doing to Christ. Now before you read any further turn down the page and make up your mind that this very day you are going to end this wretched business.

Do you recall what Our Lord has to say about this sort of thing? “If you offer your gift at the altar and there you remember that your brother has anything against you, leave your gift at the altar and go off and he reconciled to your brother, and then come and offer your gift.” It is a good rule to be the first to apologise, even if the other is in fault. You never will have to endure the smallest fraction of the injustice of Calvary, and Jesus retaliated by praying for His persecutors.

So you are not surprised that we prefaced this portion of our booklet with the remark that the practical applications are nearly infinite, of the principle under consideration. That is something to be intensely grateful for, for it means that at every turn you find abundant opportunities of exercising your love for Christ. And do not take alarm and say that the great commandment is too difficult to fulfil. Of course you will fail sometimes. Of course you will let occasions slip. But keep trying. Even one such victory over self like those shown above is a source of immense gain to your soul, and, as we saw, it is the proof He values most of all of the love you profess for Him. So once more-keep your eye on the label.

Yes, you find opportunities everywhere if you watch for them. Do you remember the Little Flower kneeling that evening in her convent chapel? All day she had been looking forward to this quiet hour of prayer, and now it has come at last and she settles down to it. All goes splendidly for a few minutes till presently a fidgety sister enters the chapel and proceeds to park herself right behind the saint. Throughout the entire hour she kept rattling her rosary and shifting about, and the young nun in front felt, I fancy, beads of perspiration breaking out on her forehead. Why? Because all this is upsetting her prayer, and fifty times in the course of the hour she wanted to turn around and say: “For goodness” sake will you keep still and leave your beads alone?” And fifty times she forced herself to put on the brake. “You did it to Me”- the same motive all the time.

And you can recall the day when she was down in the laundry bent over her tub of clothes. Opposite St. Therese, over her own tub, was another sister, a large, good-natured soul. In her thoughtless way she sent the suds every now and then flying across and they came full in the saint’s face. Many times again was she on the point of taking out her handkerchief and wiping them away and thus showing the good lady what inconvenience she was causing. But that tiny warning voice within told her that here was a chance of proving her love, and, after a struggle, she was able to pretend not even to notice. After a while, she tells us she began to actually enjoy the performance!

Gems of great holiness lie strewn across our path every other day. Those who are keen stoop to pick them up. “To those who love God all things work together unto good.”

These practical applications are given more or less haphazard. It is time now we were a little more methodical, so let us see how Our Lord’s great commandment works out under three different heads-charity in the matter-of thought, of word, and of act.

Thoughts.-A father or mother, told about the disgrace of their child, hopes against hope that the report is false or at least exaggerated-because they love. A person is very reluctant to believe that his friend has proved himself a traitor- because he sets a high value on that friendship, because he has trusted the man or woman and shared with them the innermost secrets of his soul. A son or daughter living in Australia learns that a lady bearing the same name as mother dropped dead in a Dublin street today. They do not want to think that it is she. They will cable at once to find out, and while waiting for the reply they are full of anxiety and try by every means to persuade themselves that the alarm has no foundation. In the case of all three, parent or child or friend, there is a marked unwillingness, a repugnance even, to giving credence to the tale, because the person concerned is someone who is loved.

That is exactly the reaction towards another’s fault which you will find in the man or woman who understands the great commandment. So far from investigating into the truth of the rumour with a sort of excited hope that It may be so, so far from gloating over it and retailing It with a sense of satisfaction if it be discovered to be indeed a fact, you will find on the contrary that he hopes in his heart that what has been said is untrue or exaggerated. He does not want it to be so. His tendency is to close his eyes to the shortcoming, however obvious, and his ears to the evil report however loudly it be proclaimed from the housetops. The reason is always the same. In his neighbour he sees Christ and he is saddened by any shadow which would dim the beauty of the vision.

Moreover, everyone knows from experience how very easily reports become distorted in the telling, and as a result how black the evidence may look against an accused until it is thoroughly sifted by a competent judge. I open the day’s paper and I read that a man has been arrested on suspicion of having committed murder. In due course the trial begins and part of the evidence comes to light. It looks very bad for the arrested man, and you are inclined to think that he is guilty and doomed to be hanged. As one session follows another you are confirmed in your first impression. You talk about the man to your friends-the barber who cuts your hair tells you it is clear that he is guilty, the chance companion with whom you get into conversation in the bus asks you if he is yet sentenced, taking it for granted that the pronouncing of the sentence is only a matter of time.

And lo, at the end of several weeks and after much lengthy discussion and bringing forward of all that accumulation of evidence, the jury surprises everyone by returning a verdict of “not guilty.” It is true that there may have been much against the man, but on the main charge he is acquitted. It takes an expert to weigh up the merits of the case. You can recall that this sort of thing does happen, and the moral is: Even from motives of natural prudence, apart altogether from the high supernatural motive, be slow to believe evil of another. You never can tell. You are not an expert.

But suppose the evil has certainly, been done? Suppose the evidence is such as to compel me to give an unfavourable verdict? I cannot help knowing that my neighbour has said bitter and untrue things about me, for with my own ears I have overheard him. I cannot but believe that so-and-so is dishonest, for I have caught him red-handed three times in the same week. I cannot do otherwise than see through the sham and hypocrisy of a so-called friend, and I know the underhand methods by which he succeeds in carrying off a situation.

What becomes of the great commandment in cases like these? Well, once again you will be slow to allow your mind to dwellon these thoughts. If you are impelled to think of your neighbour’s faults, you will re-act by trying to remember that he is possessed too, in all probability, of many qualities that are excellent. But tell me, did you yourself ever do evil to another? Were you ever dishonest or dishonourable or uncharitable or false to your friends? Were you ever guilty of vices which St. Paul affirms should not so much as be mentioned amongst Christians? And now you are the one to sit and criticise another! Why, the plain fact of the matter is that you have probably done much worse yourself than your neighbour. And if you haven’t you owe your escape, not to anything of innate goodness in yourself but only to the sustaining grace of an omnipotent God allying Himself with your weakness. “What hast thou that thou hast not received, and if thou hast received, why dost thou glory as if thou hast not received?” If you must sit in judgment, it is sane to begin by placing yourself in the dock. And if others get on your nerves, remember it is not unlikely that you get on their nerves. A most fantastic suggestion, no doubt, but still one worth setting down in this place!

I wonder if you want me to talk about the man or woman who thinks that everyone is “down” on them. You know the type of person I have in mind; they are suffering, in many cases, from a disease which we conveniently call “imaginitis.” You see two people in close conversation and they lower their voices as you draw near-at once you come to the conclusion that they are discussing you. The lady next door quite innocently drops a chance remark-you begin to explore for the arriere pensee and you keep ferretting into your mind to try to discover what is her insinuation. An acquaintance of yours smiles at you in the street and you wonder what he is sneering at. You receive a letter and between the lines you read a jibe or an insult at your expense. You ask a question and the straightforward answer arouses your suspicions. You are asked a simple question and you determine to hedge lest you give yourself away. Your employer changes your hours or your place on the staff and you proceed to hunt for a scheme to undo you, to injure your reputation, to pay you off- goodness knows for what!

One might extend the list almost endlessly. There is no knowing where a man or woman will stop if once they allow the imagination to run away with them in this fashion. For it is the imagination. Once again the common sense of the matter is that ordinarily you won’t find folk who take the bother to give you a fraction of the thought that you are attributing to them. In point of fact they usually find something more interesting to do or to think about. For proof of this consult your own experience. Take yourself to task and find out how much or how little you yourself think about otherswhat they do or why they do it. The ordinary man or woman is not given to prying constantly into other people’s affairs, and it is foolish in many cases, and opposed to the great commandment, to keep imagining that they do so in yours.

But once again suppose you happen to be right. Suppose your neighbours are actually watching your actions narrowly, discussing them in detail, and attributing to you motives of which you never even thought. If you are quite sincere won’t you have to admit to yourself that all they say is negligible in comparison with what they could say if they knew you as Our Lord knows you? Suppose a film of your life was shown in a public cinema-all your secret thoughts and words and acts exhibited on the silver screen for a crowded house to witness. You would feel somewhat embarrassed, wouldn’t you, to say the least? Having seen that film what can they say now and what can they think? Isn’t the reality much more humiliating than that slight, real or imaginary, about which you were fuming?

There is another point to be made before we end this section of our booklet. Here is a man or woman who has been uniformly kind to you, who has many many times given of his best, always considerate, always approachable, always ready with the wisdom of experience to help you. You ask for an interview and, though you do not know it, at a most inconvenient moment, and you are given it, and for as long as you wish. You write, and the prompt reply soothes your worry. Financial difficulties come, and this friend steps forward, puts his hand in his pocket and solves your problems for you.

This has been his habitual attitude for years, a true friend indeed and his adoption tried. But after all those innumerable proofs of his friendship he makes one small slip. He fails to write as promptly as usual, or his letter contains a phrase that displeases you. Or he tells you that times are bad and he cannot send you that sum you asked. Or, sorely harassed as he may be, perhaps his temper snaps, just this once, and he does actually say an impatient word. Now there is a type of person who, after this first slip, will immediately forget all the kindness, all the instances of patience and regard-all these are swallowed up in a blackout and the full blaze of light is focussed on this momentary failure. Yes it is most unfair, but it happens.

“Charity thinketh no evil.” The only form of pity to he excluded from your life is pity for self. Even if your suspicions are well founded and even verified, stifle the harsh thought. Remember you have to love Our Lord with your whole mind. Now you are not loving Him with as much of your mind as you allow to be filled up with those unkind thoughts. To refuse entrance to such thoughts, to forbid resolutely to oneself the satisfaction of complaining even in the most secret places of one’s own heart, to repel every inclination to do so with the same promptitude with which one rejects an impure suggestion-quite often this will be a love for Christ little short of heroic.

And why am I to try to do it? Because the person who has offended you, perhaps with studied deliberation, even such a one takes Christ’s place. To refuse to retaliate by even dwelling in thought on the injury and nursing tile sore-this too is done to Him. “You did it to Me.”

Hard, is it? Yes, very hard, heroic indeed, as we have just said. But it was very hard for Christ to go to Calvary. It was very hard for Mary to stand under the cross and watch Him die. Very hard, yes, but well for. you and me that they did not say it was too hard. It is hard to repress the harsh thought when you are in fault. It is harder still when you are innocent. But if it is meritorious to do so when you are guilty it is heroic when you know in your own heart that the charge is false. That is why Our Lord and Our Lady stir the depths of our souls by the dauntless courage they show. That is why only heroes can fathom the lessons of Calvary.

You talk about going to this place or that place to do penance-excellent things of course. But beware of looking for the extraordinary and missing the opportunity, an immense one, that is lying at your elbow.

Words.-Letme begin this paragraph with a quotation from Canon Sheehan’s book Luke Delmege. Father Luke notes in his diary: “The canon . . . actually for the first time, said a kind word about my sermon. . . . Why are the old so economical about kind words to the young? They are cheap, and God only knows what a splendid tonic is a kind word.”

It would seem that there are three reasons for withholding a word of encouragement, and of these the first is jealousy. Mrs. NextDoor’s daughter’s engagement is announced to the young man whom you considered a Mr. Very Eligible for your little girl. You are soured and green with envy and you cannot refrain from showing it. In an extreme case you might even go to the lengths of defaming the young man. Everyone sees why.

Your boy does not shine as brilliantly as you expected in his final exam, at the University. His results make a sorry comparison with those ofJim or Jack, your neighbour’s son, and a full year and a half younger than your Tom. You meet Jim’s delighted father or rapturous mother, but you can scarcely bring yourself to mention the magnificent achievement of their boy, due, as you know very well in your heart, to his power of hard study. No, but what trouble you go to, to explain that of course your Tom could easily have headed the list, but then all heaimed at was just to “get through,” or he was in bad health all that last term, or he had a splitting headache on the morning of the exam! What is the motive underlying all this, I wonder. Be honest. Is it that detestable vice? Jealous, are you?

In the College debate, or the school play, or the Cup Final, the cheers that acclaim the favourite’s success are gall and wormwood to your heart. Why? Is it because your boy or girl is hardly noticed? And do you ever pause to think that that smallmindedness is shown to Christ? “You did it to Me. .”

There is a second reason for neglecting to say the word of encouragement. Often this neglect is due simply to thoughtlessness, a reason which, though it lacks the venom of jealousy, is reprehensible all the same.

Here is a zealous Sodalist or ardent Legionary of Mary, who gives up three or four nights in the week to spend them looking after “down and outs” at a hostel, who tramps around the city slums on a Sunday morning visiting lodging houses and trying to get the men out to Mass.

Do you ever say a word of approval or encouragement? Oh, they like poking into that sort of thing. Some people are made that way. Perhaps. But then, don’t you be too sure. If you have ever tried your hand yourself at any kind of apostolic work you will have experienced at times a sense of nausea and an almost irresistible inclination to pitch it aside. Specious arguments will force themselves upon you-why should you be slaving like this when you could be having a good time at the pictures or at a dance; why should you bother, when nobody else seems to care? It may be desperately hard to keep going, but the right word spoken by the right person in face of just such a temptation to discouragement makes all the difference and you embark once more with renewed zest on God’s fine work. “Only God knows what a splendid tonic is a kind word.”

Your little girl aged six brings home her exercise and waits eagerly till you return after your day’s work. She has secured full marks-a large ten out of ten, written across the page in characters unmistakable, and by the principal teacher’s own hand too. The child runs delightedly to show it to you the moment she hears your latchkey click in the hall door. In itself it is of small importance but it assumes huge dimensions in the child’s little world. And you, the father, how do you regard it? Oh, you are tired, or preoccupied, or worried about that deal. You scarcely look at the open page, hand it back to the child, tell her to run off and play, and call to your wife to ask if tea is ready! And away goes the little girl-on the verge of tears, I”m afraid. You forgot the tiny word of appreciation and encouragement which would have made all the difference.

And yes, your excellent wife has the tea ready, and has secured by fair means or foul a very limited supply of real white flour. Here is a sight in these days, this beautiful white loaf waiting to be eaten. But you make no comment on it. You do not seem to notice, or if you do, perhaps it is only to say that it tastes insipid and that you prefer the brown! She may make no reply, but I”m thinking there is a soreness felt somewhere all the same.

And, woman of the house, for goodness” sake do not choose this moment to broadcast your woes. If the maid has given notice, this is not the time to tell him; if you have felt the day long and lonely and had been looking forward to a happy gathering in the evening which now is clearly “off,” wait till another time to say so; and let me implore you not to nag-at any time at all-but especially this evening. If nagging is objectionable in ordinary circumstances, it would be nothing short of calamitous tonight. Some wives are utterly tactless and for them this little word of warning is spoken. Of course you never nag, so you don’t need it!

You missed the last tram the other night and you had to walk home. You are annoyed about it too, for the night was bitterly cold and the rain heavy. As you pick your way in high dudgeon through the muddy streets you come upon this little wooden hut, and inside a poor man smoking his pipe. He is going to sit here all night in the cold taking charge of this engine drawn up on the side of the street. Hundreds pass him up and down, stare curiously for a moment and walk on. Suppose you stopped and said a kindlyword? But why, and when I”m in so bad a mood and in a hurry? “You did it to Me.”

The inclination is strong to go on illustrating ways and means of putting in a word of encouragement. But what about shortage of paper, and there is still much to try to fit into our booklet? What has been said will be suggestive, we hope, and above all never lose sight of the motive. Keep your eye on the label.

So let me round off this section by adding: Your husband has taken the pledge and kept it for three months. Now Christmas is drawing perilously near, so say your word of praise and encouragement. He has taken to going to daily Mass and Holy Communion and has joined the Sodality; tell him of the joy you feel. Your wife is wearing a new pullover knitted by herself, or she has put up new curtains, or black-leaded the range, or painted the windows-oh, notice it and tell her so. Say she is a marvel to have been able to secure the paint at such a small cost, or the thread when you were assured it was impossible to buy, or that those lovely curtains give such a cheery aspect to the room. In a word, be on the lookout for your opportunities and you will find them crowding into your day. Do not omit the word of encouragement through thoughtlessness.

There is yet a third reason why it is left unsaid. You tell me you do not want to give so-andso a “swelled head”; you want to “take him down a peg”; he needs it badly; everyone knows he is a bit of a bounder. Well, do they know, I wonder? Once again recall what we have just been saying about the struggles people have to keep going, the strong tendency to lose heart and consider that effort is useless. Often the “bounder” attitude may be only a smoke-screen to conceal all this.

Remember too that if there is a danger of puffing up one person with pride there is another even more fatal in its consequences. That is, that enormous good work may never be touched simply because those eager and willing to do it are not encouraged. There is a real danger that zeal will cool down in this frigid atmosphere. People who once were on fire degenerate into cynics. Idealism wilts. Potential giants shrink into pigmies, like Alice in Wonderland. Atrophy and indifference and callousness, worldliness even-all these are the sad effects often resulting from want of encouragement. We are not saying that such a reaction is justifiable, but it is very intelligible. We do not want to maintain that zeal for souls should be dependent on the poor small word of encouragement you or I can give. Perhaps it shouldn’t be, but in actual practice aren’t there many excellent works never undertaken, thwarted, abandoned, simply because those willing and capable received no encouragement or inspiration?

We have thus touched upon three reasons why the word of encouragement is left unsaid-jealousy, thoughtlessness, and fear of puffing up with pride. There does not seem to be much to say in favour of any of the three, and I can think of no others. If you can, please send them along and we shall have much pleasure in bombarding them together.

On the other hand, look at what a word of encouragement can do. I have just been reading Mr. Denis Gwynn’s new book The Second Spring. In the first chapter he gives an account of the entry into the English College in Rome of a quiet unassuming student. The young man was devoted to his work and he settled down with earnestness to prepare himself for the priesthood. Fortunately he met with encouragement. Mgr. Mai, Prefect of the Vatican Library, took the young man up. At twenty-three he was appointed Professor of Oriental languages, and at twenty-five he was Rector of the College! Later he became Cardinal Wiseman, the leader of the Hierarchy on its restoration in England. His colossal work for religion must be read elsewhere. For the moment the question that concerns us is: Suppose he had not been encouraged, would the Church ever have been adorned with his virtues and learning, and would he ever have been God’s instrument for the salvation and sanctification of so many souls?

Other examples spring ready to the mind. Ignatius encouraged Xavier and he became a giant amongst missioners. Claver, encouraged by Rodriguez, became the apostle of the negroes. It is surely a mighty stimulus to realise the power we can wield by saying a kindly word. And to realise thus is also a warning, for who can estimate the good that may be left undone through the lack of it? “Kind words. ., they are cheap, and God only knows what a splendid tonic is a kind word.”

In this, as in much else, we might well take a page from the enemy’s volume. Have you ever noticed how Christ’s foes support each other? An absurd theory is advanced- it is written up and applauded an all sides. An attack on religion is launched-they haven’t any decent argument to put forward and they know it. But just the same they are four square and dare anyone to oppose them! And here are we Catholics, with all the magnificent heritage of our Catholic Faith, with our feet planted firmly on the solid rock of truth-why on earth cannot we too stand shoulder to shoulder and support each other? “A brother that is helped by a brother is like a strong city.”

It is bad enough to refuse to say the generous word but we have still to notice the positive ways by which the tongue can be used to offend against the great commandment.

The type of man who studiously avoids saying the word of encouragement is often the very one who waxes most eloquent if you happen to fail. For many years you have been working away in your St. Vincent de Paul Society, or in your Legion Praesidium, or in your Sodality of Our Lady. But, God help you, you are, it may be, growing weary in your well-doing and you begin to show signs of taking things easy. At once this type becomes surprisingly wide awake. Having sat back placidly himself all the time he now bestirs himself to take the floor and proceeds to explain that he saw you would not last. You were aiming at too much, weren’t you? He knew all along and often told you so. Why must people talk in this strain? Blind they seemed to be and dumb as long as everything was going well with you. Did anyone mention your good work they would smile knowingly as though to impress you with their own prudence and superior knowledge. And now make the smallest slip, or fail to rise to your best, and what an awakening from slumber and what a chorus of comment!

What are we to say about gossiping? So much there is to say that the subject would require a booklet of its own. Have you ever had an experience like this: A new employer is going to take over, or a new neighbour is moving into your district, or a new priest is coming to the parish. Before ever you meet the newcomer you are prejudiced against him. Why? Because of the gossip’s tongue. Newcomer starts life with a big handicap, and it is only by degrees, when you have made personal contact, that you begin to discover that the tale spread about him was twisted out of all recognition. Lucky if even after a time you do come to see, for often the gossip has done irreparable harm. And that is done to Christ. “As long as you did it to one of these . . . you did it to Me.”

Or you have a lifelong friend, or even it may be a devoted wife or husband, and once again the gossip’s tongue begins to wag. You are indignant that anyGossip’s aspersion should be cast upon your friend Tongue and you are perfectly furious at the suggestion that the wife or husband you love is not everything you believe them to be. You repudiate the idea at once, but for all that, damage has been done, and with an insidiousness that might almost be called diabolical. For, in spite of yourself, you may find yourself dwelling in thought on the accusation and half wondering to yourself if, after all, there could be any truth in it. Once more let gossip come forward and listen to Our Lard charging him or her with doing this evil to Him. “I am Jesus Whom thou persecutest.” Let gossip walk around the stations of the cross and watch those executioners scourging Christ, nailing Christ, jeering at Him in His agony. And let them listen to the words on those dying lips, as, with eyes fixed upon them He complains:”You are doing this to Me.”

Are you a good mimic? You possess a dangerous gift and beware how you use it. “But “Us only a bit of fun.” Certainly I”m quite prepared to believe it, and we all need the lighter side of life. But your little bit of fun ceases to be funny if it begins to give pain. And even though the others laugh at the time, in their hearts they do not like you any better for what they recognise as not being quite fair. Moreover they have a lurking suspicion in their hearts that when they are absent your gift may be used against themselves, and the suspicion is not going to do you any good.

Can you say sarcastic things? And sarcastic things that are really clever? Do not try to persuade me that he or she needs it badly, that it will do them good, that it is high time theywere put in their place. I”m exceedingly doubtful if sarcasm ever does anyone any good-either you who indulge in it, or him or her who is the victim of it. On the other hand I do know very well that it has crushed and nearly broken entirely the spirit of the one towards whom it was directed. It stings, and often with a poisonous fang.

Did you ever receive a letter which caused you great annoyance? You asked for a favour and you have been refused, and curtly. You sent a query and the answer tells you, in so many words, to mind your own business. You have done a piece of work, of whatsoever nature, upon which your heart was set, and this letter turns it into ridicule. What is nature’s reaction? To seize your pen and write back a “snorter”? If you do, you will probably live to regret it. Instead, wait a while. Put the offending document into your desk until to-morrow, and do not think too much about it meantime. You will be surprised how the hard expressions it contains will seem to mellow overnight. Or, if you must write on the spur of the moment, all right, do so. But do not, on any account, post your letter for twenty-four hours. By that time you will probably consign it to the wastepaper basket. And, even at the risk of wearying you with my reiterations, keep your eye on the label. Remember why.

In general, let adverse comment pass you by. If you write a reply with unaffected kindness the recipient will probably think you a nincompoop and imagine you did not see through his irony. What about that? Let all such things be. They are not worth a fraction of the time and the energy you will expend in trying to explain them. If you can train yourself to leave them alone you may safely promise yourself immense peace of soul. You expect encouragement and you find apathy. You look for sympathy and you meet with cynicism or open hostility. You crave for a word of understanding when you are weary, or lonely, or timid, or a failure, and instead you receive blame or a sneer. Never mind. The only form of pity to exclude from your life is self-pity. Keep going. Keep trying. Let me implore you not to give up your efforts merely because they are not appreciated. Once again the label will tell you why.

It is sound advice to warn you to be chary, very chary, of speaking about yourself. You know the type whose only subject of conversation seems to be that difficult person in the home, and who treats you on every possible occasion to lengthy documented accounts of the little squabbles and misunderstandings. To talk like that is not charity-it is not fair to the person you speak to nor to the one you speak about. You know the man, and you have probably learned to dread his appearance, who at the slightest provocation buttonholes you and tells you all about his pains and aches, whose only way of being happy seems to consist in a determination to be miserable! He tells you today that the weather is killingly oppressive and next month, from the depths of his overcoat, he groans about the blasts of the east wind. Last week he gave you a dismal record of his sleepless nights and to-day he assures you that the war bread is driving him, surely, if slowly, to a premature grave. And, the Lord forgive you, perhaps you are tempted to pray that it may be not too slowly!

If you are wise to say little about your ills, you will be wiser still to say nothing at all about your successes. St. Francis de Sales has a forcible passage warning you how easy it is to develop pride if you speak much about the good you do, under whatsoever pretext. And in any case the rest of us, who are perhaps just muddling through, may be discouraged or may even have difficulty in controlling our jealousy.

It is a useful exercise to try, occasionally, to write a letter without employing the personal pronoun.

A most powerful motive for charity in word in all these ways is reparation for the sins committed by the tongue, especially today. Think of all the hatred expressed and stirred up by those vitriolic speeches you hear on your radio; think of all the blasphemies uttered against God and the divinity of Our Lord; think of the grossly immoral stories, the lies, the misuse of the Sacred Name so constantly current-for all this your care to fulfil the great commandment, especially in your use of words, is going to make some reparation. Once again you see that there are diamonds for your eternal crown strewn across your path. Do not miss them.

Acts.-Thereare a few hard or unpleasant things to be set forth about “works of charity” so let us get them said at once and finish with them. We saw that it is bad enough to speak disparagingly about works of zeal or to ignore another’s efforts in a stony silence. But what is to be said of those who positively and effectively oppose the doing of good? It would be impossible to imagine this opposition on the part of excellent people, especially in its extreme forms, were there not indisputable facts to prove it. You see that something needs to be done and you are more than willing to undertake it. But your hands are tied. There is a stumbling block right across your path. You are definitely told that the scheme is to be dropped, or that the room is not to be rented for that purpose, or that the man necessary for the success of your venture is not to be approached.

And why? Let us try to be very fair and readily admit that often there may be reasons which you do not see and which cannot be explained to you. Your scheme would, perhaps, be in the way of another one which will give more glory to God. Or if that room were lent to you there would immediately be impossible complications which you do not foresee. Or if that man was permitted to help you there would be no end of trouble with his employer or his family or too severe a drain on his purse.

But . . .

Are there not cases where that explanation could be given instead of a monosyllabic refusal? And if you were allowed to see the difficulty, might not there be some chance of removing it? And even if there were no such chance would you not be encouraged to keep up your efforts for souls when you see that the refusal this time Is inevitable and made with a good grace?

Again. Are there not cases where the flat refusal is given for no reason at all? “It’s not to be done and no more about it!” I admit that I have been told this sort of thing by zealous Catholic Actionists and with deep regret I saw the strong inclination to cease trying. No, that is not right. They should not cease trying, but if they do you find it hard to blame them. And would you or I like to be the one who would face the Almighty and explain to Him, as explain we must, why we had hindered His good work from flourishing? “You did it to Me.” Did we think remotely of His glory and the salvation of souls when we gave our peremptory refusal? Once again was our motive pride or jealousy? Was the other person’s zeal a censure on our own apathy? Now is the time to put ourselves these questions and face up to the answers, for we have only one life and we shall not be passing this way again.

Our Lord has a frightening sentence which is worth while pondering in this connection: “Woe to you, scribes and pharisees, hypocrites, because you shut the kingdom of heaven against men; for you yourselves do not enter in, and those who are going in, you suffer not to enter.” It is bad enough to be indifferent yourself to His Interests, but it is little short of criminal to oppose effectively, without sound reasons, those who are eager to throw themselves into the Cause. And it is a fact that this is done, and done with calamitous and irreparable loss to souls.

“Who will roll us back the stone?” How are you going to overcome unreasonable opposition in cases where its removal is imperative if good work is to go ahead? Well, I have known apostolic men and women to allow the impression that they wanted to do the direct opposite of what they really desired in their hearts. Why? Because, as surely as they took up one side, the opposing stone would roll to the other! I have met zealous folk who permitted it to be believed that the magnificent scheme they had thought out was all the work of another. Why? Because that was the only way of inducing the other to give a sanction that was indispensable! I can recall a friend of mine once telling me, long ago, that he allowed himself to be beaten at a game of billiards in order to win the favour of a man whose co-operation was necessary for good work. And the ruse worked perfectly! A sprinkling of the wisdom of the serpent makes excellent seasoning for the simplicity of the dove.

But with all your wisdom and tact, there will be times, I”m afraid, when the stone is impossible to move. It is not right, though, to acquiesce in this state of things at once. God’s work thrives on opposition, and nobody ever did anything worth while for souls by running away from difficulties. Obstacles exist, not to be meekly tolerated but to be dynamited, once you are sure that they are unreasonable. Obstacles exist, for we are short-sighted creatures, even the best of us, and the enemy is everlastingly on the prowl. Obstacles exist, but don’t you be the one to raise them or to multiply them. Obstacles exist, but often the best course is not to charge at them, but to employ a little tact which has proved effective in the case of others and may prove so in yours also. I fervently hope it may. “0 God,” runs the fine prayer, “save me from the calm of the desert and the peace of cowards.”

It is well to guard against hindering, not only the starting of good works but their perfection too. Anything done in fulfilling the great commandment should be made to yield the maximum of glory to God. You are a member of a sewing guild because you want to help the poor. Excellent, but do not vitiate your fine work by talking uncharitably while you ply the needle. You are gifted with a glorious voice and you take part in your parish choir. Why? To sing God’s praises, presumably, to lift up your soul to Him by a prayerful and reverent rendering of the sublime hymns and canticles of Holy Church. Once more congratulations, but do not spoil your undertaking by chatter and gossip, even during the holy Sacrifice, and by your silly sniggering in the Presence. You wash up dishes after the free breakfasts or penny dinners, you make beds at the hostel-well done, but let me remind you that there are some who must be selfish even in their good works. They must be in the limelight. They must have their way. They will work with this person but refuse to work with this other. And dare anyone make a suggestion to them! What a pity to take the gloss off the apple!

You are running a bazaar or a fete, or a sale of work. Why? Oh, for God’s glory, of course. You are helping to build a Church or collecting funds for the foreign missions. Splendid, but beware lest you be inordinately anxious that you should head the list, that your stall should outshine all the others, or your entry win first prize. Healthy competition is all right, of course, and lends spice to your work, but easily enough it could degenerate into a petty jealousy or pride which would rob you of much merit.

Do not scowl if your wife asks you to post her letter and to wait ten minutes till she finishes it. You may as well do the thing graciously. If you give your friend a present of a pair of gloves, do not say, every time you meet him, in the presence of others: “So this is the little Christmas box I sent you!” You know perfectly well how annoying it is if you ask: “Is this what you bought with the pound I lent you last week?” And do not tell me: “Yes, Mr. So-and-So certainly is very generous in giving to charities, but then I may say between ourselves that it mightn’t do to enquire too closely into how he made his money.” Or, “Mrs. Up-the-Street seems a very religious woman; at Holy Communion every morning; but did you never hear that she leads her unfortunate husband a dog’s life?” Be chary of the “buts” in contexts like these. These are other ways of taking the gloss off the apple.

It is hard to accept the failure of good work. You are all keyed up about zeal in your classroom, and a bolt from the blue sends you into other spheres, far removed from the scene of your fruitful labours. You had so much trouble in acquiring those premises for your club and furnishing them, but now, thank God, all is doing well. And the next night a fire breaks out or a bomb drops and in half an hour your grand work is a heap of ashes. A girl you had rescued had apparently made a break with her sinful past and you rejoice to know how well she is doing. And today’s post brings you a letter to say that she has gone back again into her old haunts!

That is the sort of thing that often happens in apostolic work. You bestir yourself and try to get going, and you end, it seems, nowhere. What’s the use? Listen. No work can possibly fail if it be undertaken sincerely for God’s glory and the good of souls. Tell me, was there much visible result to show from the life of Mary of Nazareth, or for that matter from the life of Our Lord Himself? Mary lived in hiddenness, and Jesus her Son died a disgrace and a “failure” on Calvary. And often He would seem to allow excellent work to fall through to make you and me understand that it is not so much what we do He regards, as why we do it.

So remember if you cannot do anything spectacular that your ordinary humdrum day is teeming with little opportunities. To open a door for another, to place the chair for father or mother, to pass the salt, to lend your penknife or fountain pen, to raise your hat-trifles if you like, but who can gainsay their immense value if they are supernaturalised? “You have done it to Me.”

This is the place to fit in a word about good manners. Here is a line from a letter lying before me: “I”m taking the liberty of asking your advice on . . . the appalling lack of good manners in general, and of table manners in particular.” Does this “appalling lack” exist? Let us begin with ourselves. How often do we use the word “please” and “thanks”? And teach them to the children? It seems to me that there is no more effective remedy for bad manners than a deepening of our understanding of the motive that has been stressed throughout these pages. “As long as you did it to one of these . . . you did it to Me.”

For an inspiring account of works of zeal carried on right in our midst, I refer you to the article by Fr. Burke-Savage, S.J., in the Irish Jesuit Directory for 1941. In his “Sodality Odyssey” the author takes you for a trip, first round the Dublin Sodalities, and thence up and down the country, and gives you a glimpse of what the Sodality is doing in the field of Catholic Action in Ireland. We say “a glimpse” because we remember that there are 800 Sodalities with 50,000 members.

Or some day you may be privileged to look into the records of a St. Vincent de Paul Conference and to see what is being done, in practical ways, by that fine body, to help the poor who take the place of Christ.

Or you may dip into any issue of Maria Legionis, the organ of the Legion of Mary, and if you do, you are going to be heartened by accounts of splendid achievements in fulfilment of the great commandment.

Most important of all it is, however, that you should yourself be practical and see if you cannot find good work waiting for you to do in one or other of these associations. They clamour for volunteers and they assure you there is work for all. “Who is my neighbour?” Our Lord was asked, and He told the story of the Good Samaritan, and put His own question: “Who was neighbour to him who fell among the robbers?” The answer was obvious: “The neighbour was not the priest or the levite who passed the wounded man by. The neighbour was the Samaritan who proved his charity by his deeds.”

What a world it would be if men took the great commandment seriously! I need not point out that it is just because it is ignored that we have chaos on every side. The restoration of the world must begin by each individual Catholic living a genuinely Catholic life, and this implies, as is abundantly clear from all we have been saying, that we labour to reduce to practice, in great things and In small things, the lofty principle which lies at the basis of the structure. “You did it to Me.” If He says that to you and me at the end. we can look Him in the Face full of confidence, for the words are a guarantee and a promise that our luggage has arrived safely, conveyed thither by the label which marked it all along the way as belonging to Him.

Nihil obstat:

WILLIAM M. COLLINS, D.D., Censor Deputatus.

Imprimatur:

@DANIEL MANNIX,

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis 1948

********

Lacordaire

BY FATHER STANISLAUS M. HOGAN, O.P

INDEX

IT has been said that there has probably been no conversion in England during the latter half of the nineteenth century, and amongst the intellectuals especially, which may not be traced in some measure to Newman. It may be also asserted that during the same period, and amongst the same class, conversions from unbelief, from religious indifference, and from aggressive hostility to the Catholic Church in France are due in no small measure to Lacordaire. The influence of both men is still felt. Newman is still a force in the English-speaking world; Lacordaire is more than a memory in France. If it be true, as Montalembert foretold shortly after the death of Lacordaire, that: “Certain parts of his genius will be again disputed. Certain forms of his eloquence will go out of date. . . . The immortal truths of religion which he upheld, sneered at by fresh enemies, or endangered by fresh folly, will require new proofs and new champions;” it is also true as the same illustrious writer says: “what neither time, nor the injustice of man, nor the “treachery of glory,” will ever take from him, is the greatness of his character, the honour of having been the most manly, the most finely tempered, the most naturally heroic soul of our times.”*

Lacordaire was unquestionably a great man. If we would attempt to concentrate his greatness into one virtue, and define it by one word, we would choose the term Magnanimity, the virtue which impels to heroism in the practice of other virtues, and urges to the accomplishment of great deeds. Wherever we follow Lacordaire we find greatness, in his private, as also in his public life, as a layman, a priest, a religious, an apologist. There was nothing small in his character, nothing unworthy, although his sensitiveness, like the sensitiveness of Newman, not infrequently led smaller men to misunderstand his greatness of soul, and, consequently, to minimise it.

THE TIME

The Catholic religion, which had been banned by the Revolution in France, had been restored by Napoleon, but it was with the object of making the Church his servant, not of his coming to the assistance of the Church. His will must be supreme, and in religion, as in everything else, the State came first. In his eyes Bishops were simply ecclesiastical ministers of the State, subject to the Minister of Public Worship; and we may learn how subservient to the State Napoleon intended to make the Church from these few facts: No Bishop could ordain the students in his seminary to the priesthood until the number to be ordained had been accepted and approved by the Government. No Bishop was permitted to assemble his clergy in Synod; and no association of men or women could be formed for any religious purpose, i.e., no Confraternity or Sodality could be established, without the express permission of the Government. In a letter to Cardinal Fesch, in January, 1806, Napoleon said that the Pope was nothing more than the Bishop of Rome, but in his letter to the Pope himself on February 22, he reminded his Holiness that he, Napoleon, was Emperor of Rome! We can understand how Napoleon’s arrogance, and his brutal treatment of Pius VII., had their effect upon the clergy and people. Numbers of the Bishops and clergy were sycophants, who bowed to the Emperor’s will in all things. Catholicism had been re-established as the State religion by the State, and was detested by the people in consequence; as Foisset says: “Christ entered the Churches in 1802, but He did not enter into the souls of the people.” The people were de-Christianised by the State or because of the State, and this de-Christianisation was further effected by the publication, in cheap form, of the atheistical writings of Voltaire and Rousseau. Diderot, Dupuis, Volney rose from their tombs, in which they had been buried and forgotten, and the Church found herself surrounded by enemies who were not the product of secret societies only, or the disciples of Voltaire only, but the ordinary people who hated her with a blind hatred, because in their eyes a State-established Church was the phantom of the ancient regime.

It was into this society that Lacordaire was born on May 12, 1802, and if the face of this society was changed, as assuredly it was changed within half a century, the transformation was due in very large measure to Lacordaire, and to his friend whom he loved and who loved him as David loved Jonathan, Charles Forbes René, Count de Montalembert. To a far greater degree than most persons imagine, does Catholic France today owe her loyalty to the Faith, her religious activities, and the possession of her soul, to these two men. For, let it not be forgotten, France is a Catholic * “Memoirs of the Abbe Lacordaire.” Authorised translation, 1868; pp. 310–311. nation in spite of the Grand Orient. If we are surprised sometimes, at what appears to be indifference or apathy in the French people where the Church is concerned, we receive a still greater surprise at the extraordinary manifestations of their Catholic faith in the teeth of the sneers and scoffs of her irreligious teachers and the miserable chicanery of her politicians. But there is hatred of everything divine and supernatural, therefore, of the Catholic Faith and the Catholic Church, which is the guardian of that Faith, of the historic as well as of the mystical Christ, in France no one will deny, but this hatred is not more deadly in France than in Germany or England or America, it is not even so deadly though it may be more apparent. The real source of antagonism to the Church in France is not intellectual but political; it is the same source from which the so-called Reformation arose in Germany and England, a jealousy of the power of the Church, a jealousy fostered and intensified by avarice.

I

“By a singular coincidence,” says d”Haussonville, “Burgundy has had the honour of giving to France her three greatest Christian orators, St. Bernard, Bossuet, and Lacordaire. St. Bernard was horn at Fontaine, near Dijon; Bossuet in Dijon itself; Lacordaire, a few miles from Dijon, at Recy-surOurce.” Although Lacordaire’s father was somewhat liberal in his religious opinions, he was a sincere Christian, and hid the parish priest of Recy in his house during the Revolution. It was this priest who baptized Jean Baptiste Henri Lacordaire, on May 13, 1802. His father died when Lacordaire was four years old, and his mother, “a strong, courageous Christian,” was left with four young boys to provide for and educate. We are told that as a child Henri liked nothing better than to preach, with his three brothers and his nurse as his audience; and, that sometimes he became so excited that his nurse used to protest, but in vain. “No! No! People commit too many sins,” he would cry, “I must keep on preaching,” and off he went again in his denunciations against the loss of faith and the decay of morals.

When he was ten he entered the Imperial Lyceum at Dijon, where he became the butt of petty persecution from the older boys, and because of the complete absence of religious teaching, lost his faith. He made his first Communion when he was twelve years old, but in his own words: “The shadows soon gathered round me; cold night enveloped me, and I no longer received from God in my conscience any sign of life.”

At the age of seventeen he left the Lyceum and was entered as a law student in the Faculty at Dijon, where he speedily attracted attention as a brilliant and eloquent speaker. Leaving Dijon when he was twenty, he went to Paris. Here again he was remarkable for his eloquence, and Berryer, the greatest barrister of the day, before whom Lacordaire defended a case, said to him: “You can win the first place at the Bar, but beware of the dangers ahead, and one of these dangers is your too great facility of speech.” His success was assured. He had genius, was extraordinarily eloquent, and his appearance was all in his favour. Above medium height, well proportioned, but slight, with a pale, ascetic face, large black eyes, fringed with very long eyelashes, and a wonderfully winning personality, Lacordaire was certainly good to look at. But he was lonely beyond words. As yet he did not realise why he was so really alone, why nothing gave him more than a momentary satisfaction, and why success itself, and applause, and growing fame left him unmoved. The truth was that God was laying seige to his heart and wanted this young barrister of twenty to do a work for Him. Although he had ceased to believe Lacordaire was not irreligious, quite the contrary; and as he wrote in a letter at the time: “My soul is extremely religious, my mind is very sceptical; but as it is the nature of the mind to let itself be subdued by the soul, it is probable that I shall be a Christian some day.” That day came at last, although he tells us in his “Memoir,” that he did not know what led to it, what reasons influenced him or what arguments convinced him, But God, Who had not spoken in his conscience for ten years, spoke again, and Lacordaire heard Him and believed. He recovered his Faith. And here we are in the presence of a remarkable phenomenon; the very moment he went on his knees and said Credo once more, he determined to consecrate himself to God as a priest; there were no half measures for him. He threw up an unquestionably brilliant career at the Bar. He sacrificed what those who knew him best had predicted could he only an exceptionally distinguished future, to become a priest when priests were both shunned and despised. All his dreams of glory had vanished, and he desired then, in what he called that “sublime moment” of his conversion, to serve God, and Jesus Christ, and souls until death.

Lacordaire entered the Seminary of Saint Sulpice on his twenty-second birthday, May 12, 1824, but strange though it appears now, he was not favourably regarded by his superiors. His vivacity, horror of anything that had even the semblance of affectation, and very definite opinions, which he did not hesitate to express in equally definite terms, disturbed the authorities and made them doubt whether he was really called to the priesthood or not. But when the superiors learned that Lacordaire had asked permission to enter the Jesuit Novitiate at Montrouge, they changed their opinions, and he was ordained priest by the Archbishop of Paris, Monsignor de Quelen, on September 25, 1827. After his ordination Lacordaire was appointed Chaplain to the Convent of the Visitation, where his duties consisted of celebrating Mass every morning and giving instructions to the boarders, whose ages ranged from twelve to eighteen years.

When Lacordaire became a priest he did not give up his opinions, they were not ephemeral, and he was an exceptionally strong character. We have seen that the Church was not in favour with the people because, having been re-established by the State, they regarded it as the tool of the State, which curtailed its liberties. Many of the clergy were quite satisfied with the existing state of things, with the result that they were not in touch with the people and were shunned by them. Lacordaire was not favourable to the existing relations between the Church and the State, but as he was unknown he was powerless. The opportunity came to protest against the enslavement of the Church and Lacordaire seized it.

THE “AVENIR”

Towards the end of the year the Archbishop had appointed Lacordaire Chaplain of the College Henri IV., in the University, and in 1830 Lacordaire drew up a Memoir which was signed by the chaplains of the other colleges of the University. The evils of the educational system were pointed out in strong language. There was practically no real religious instruction for the atmosphere of the colleges was against it, and the chaplains were unable to make headway. The result was that when the students left the colleges, one, and only one, might be counted upon each year who would continue to practise his religion. The Memoir insisted that, “the most efficacious remedy for this lay in the emancipation of education from State interference.” This was the first step. The second was the emancipation of the clergy, of religion, of the Church, from the State; and Lacordaire was determined to do what he could to effect this. Before his deathhe declared that he died as he had lived, “an impenitent liberal,” and this he was. He refused to be tied as most of the French clergy were tied, to the House of Bourbon. The Church must be free. The Spiritual Society and the Material or Civil Society should exist side by side independently, each assisting, but assuredly not hampering each other, and as the spiritual was superior to the material, the Church should not be hindered by the State in its efforts for the good of society. These were the opinions of two other men, Felicité Robert de Lamennais and Charles, Count de Montalembert. Lacordaire had almost made up his mind to go to America when he was asked by Lamennais, after the Revolution of July, 1830, to assist him in the publication of a newspaper,”The Avenir.” He consented, and began to expound his views on religion, the Church and its liberties, in a series of articles which aroused the greatest enthusiasm but also aroused great bitterness. He was a fearless writer, brilliant, witty, caustic, and he spared no one when he pleaded for freedom for the Church and freedom for the school. The Government summoned him because of an article on the appointment of certain Bishops; Lacordaire, wearing his barrister’s gown, defended his own case so well that the court applauded him. With the courage of their convictions Montalembert and he opened a Free School. Both were summoned, but as Montalembert was a Peer of France he demanded that the case should be tried by the Court of Peers. Both were heard in their defence,, and their eloquence carried their hearers away. They were fined a nominal sum, but as Lacordaire said, they won their case at a higher Bar, that of Public Opinion. It was the first victory for the freedom of the schools.

But the tone of the “Avenir” caused increasing uneasiness and vexation, and after thirteen months of continual conflict, Lamennais, Montalembert, and Lacordaire resolved to go to Rome and lay their case before Gregory XVI. The Holy See did not approve of the principles of the paper or of the action of its chief collaborators, which was regarded as imprudent. The “Avenir” was censured. Lacordaire submitted immediately; Montalembert submitted after a time and because of Lacordaire’s pleading; but Lamennais, who at first said they must submit, grew stubborn, refused to give way, and left the Church. Lacordaire returned to Paris, and the Archbishop who welcomed him with real fatherly affection, gave him his old post at the Convent of Visitation. Here he lived quietly, a life of prayer and study, preparing for the work which he felt lay before him, although he had no clear idea what it would be. At this time cholera broke out and Lacordaire gave himself completely to the sick, winning back to God many a soul that had abandoned Him. Like Newman, he was convinced that a definite work was to be accomplished by him, and he waited patiently until God’s hour struck.

When Lacordaire had broken with Lamennais he wrote to his friend Lorain: “I do not quite know yet what I shall do; perhaps I shall devote myself to Catholic youth, and prepare conferences for them.”*

In May, 1883, he wrote to the same friend: “I have preached in a college chapel without success, and in a parish church in a manner which made me thoroughly dissatisfied.” The college was the College Stanislas; the church was St. Roch, which, curiously enough, was the church in which he preached his last sermon in Paris nineteen years later. His sermon was such a, failure that those who heard him said:

“He will never be a preacher!” But strangely enough Lacordaire felt instinctively that preaching was his vocation, not the ordinary kind but an exposition of Catholic doctrine suited to the requirements of the day. Jouffroy and other thorough-going rationalists were playing havoc amongst the students at the Sorbonne by their lectures, and Ozanam, who had founded the Society of St. Vincent de Paul a month previously, and was anxious that the faith of the University students should be safeguarded and strengthened, waited on the Archbishop in June and asked him to appoint a priest to deliver a series of conferences which would deal with the danger. The Archbishop promised to do so but delayed. The Prefect of Studies in the College Stanislas, the Abbé Buquet, immediately requested Lacordaire to give such a series in the college chapel; Lacordaire consented, and gave the first conference on January 19, 1834. Only the students were present, and a few friends of the college. The following Sunday the chapel was filled, and at the third conference most of the students had to give their places to outsiders. Then the numbers increased so greatly that tribunes were erected. The elite of the Parisian intellectual world attended, and people were astonished to see men like Lamartine, Chateaubriand, Berryer, Victor Hugo, strugglingfor a seat. God’s hour had struck. The subjects were the same truths which had been preached thousands of times: “What, then,” asks Foisset, “brought the crowds to hear those truths there? They went to hear the living word, the word that was the man himself, spontaneous, ardent, impetuous, the word which stirred its hearers beyond all conception, a voice that was piercing and heart subduing, which played upon every cord of the human heart and made it respond in a manner that cannot be described.” As was to be expected, Lacordaire did not please everyone. He did not write his discourses; they were carefully prepared, well planned, but he left the filling in to the inspiration of the moment. Lacordaire improvised as a skilled musician will improvise, and improvisation has its dangers. Those dangers were emphasised and magnified by interested persons, and Lacordaire was denounced to the police, the Archbishop, and to Rome! The Archbishop stood by him at first, and Rome replied that a long as the Archbishop was satisfied there was no need for alarm. The Government was not disturbed. But as the opposition grew, the Archbishop suggested to Lacordaire that it would be advisable to bring the conferences to a close, and the last of the series was given on April 13, 1834.

The cessation of the conferences caused a sensation. The University students, Ozanam, and, it must be said, the majority of those who attended them were greatly distressed. Lacordaire’s detractors, however, those who scented what Foisset calls “Lamennaisism” in everything Lacordaire did, even to the end of his life, rejoiced exceedingly, yet the cessation of the conferences in the college was providential. Before they had been given Ozanam and two other gentlemen, M. Lallier and M. Lamache, had asked the Archbishop to have a series given in the Cathedral of Notre Dame. The Archbishop agreed, appointed six or seven priests to give the conferences, and delivered the first himself. They were a complete failure. They were simply the ordinary sermon, did not touch the questions which troubled so many minds, and were not actual in any sense. The contrast between them and those given by Lacordaire at the college was very marked and caused much comment. Lacordaire asked permission to resume his conferences at the college and was refused, and when this became known, there were not wanting persons who accused the Archbishop of jealousy. Lacordaire naturally was hurt by the refusal, and wrote a rather forcible letter to the Archbishop, who took offence, and things came to a deadlock. Then a couple of priests urged Lacordaire to go and see the Archbishop. He did so, and after a few minutes” silence Mgr. de Quelen quite suddenly said: “I am thinking of confiding to you the pulpit of Notre Dame. Will you accept it?” Lacordaire asked for twenty-four hours to consider the matter, then accepted, and on the first Sunday of Lent, 1835, inaugurated those “Conferences de Notre Dame” which shall ever be *Foisset, “Vie du Peré Lacordaire.” Vol. I., p. 181. Paris, 1878. inseparably connected with his name.

The effect of these conferences cannot be either described or measured; we can only ask ourselves what the impression must have been upon those who heard them, when the printed words have power to stir the reader after all these years. And we must remember that Lacordaire was only thirty-three at the time, that the overwhelming majority of the audience which filled the Cathedral, an audience that numbered at times some ten thousand men, was sceptical, unbelieving, rationalistic, one might say hostile to Catholic doctrine: that it was composed of scholars, literary men, artists, lawyers, politicians, Ministers of State, and officers in the Armies of France: and that the French intellectuals are probably the keenest minded in the world, those who seem more than others to have inherited the quick intelligence of the Greeks. We shall let Lacordaire’s successor in the French Academy sneak, the Prince de Broglie: “The effect was astonishing. His words seemed to leave the precincts of the sacred building and, as in the days of Christ, find the toll-gatherers amidst the noise of their business or their amusements. Christian truth, which this generation thought so far away, appeared in its midst. . . . The impression made upon youth was particularly profound. What won youth was not only the novel style of the discourse, so full of hope which did not condemn youth as others did, to seek a chimerical return to a past for which it had no regrets, it was also the satisfaction of finding in him a sympathy for all the generous sentiments for which this age feels the need. We were all divided by different preoccupations and outlook. Some were brought to the church by a faith that was hereditary; some came to it because of a curiosity of doubt; some had read the deeds of the Crusaders, others were taken with the reports of the Empire and the Republic . . . The Abbé Lacordaire had a message for each one, and in gathering us round a common centre, he gave us a moment’s hope, or the illusion of being unanimous.”

But, who can describe the orator, for Lacordaire was an orator in the true meaning of a much abused term; he had all the qualities of an orator in, the highest degree. “Who can describe or make live again,” asks Foisset, “what is passed away for ever? Those fine and noble features which no portrait could really produce; that profound yet piercing glance, that transfigured countenance, inspired gesture, and that penetrating voice which at one moment flashed its message like a flame to the farthest parts of the sacred edifice, and at the next moment, took on an accent which came from his very soul and which troubled the orator himself and surprised him.” “Such accents might well indeed surprise him,” continues Montalembert, “no one of us had ever heard the like, and of those who that day heard them, none will ever forget them. . . . I confidently call around this great and cherished memory all those whom I once saw swelling those serried ranks, quivering with emotion around the pulpit of Notre Dame. . . . Where is the man from among his former hearers who could today enter, sad and solitary, the silent precincts of Notre Dame, stop before the pulpit, forever widowed of its most illustrious occupant, without hearing within him the echo of that peerless voice, without seeing with the eyes of his youth those spacious aisles again filled with that moved and quivering crowd, eagerly slaking their thirst at the swelling fountains of enthusiasm and faith? . . . He knew the way to our hearts; he carried and captivated them; not by that ephemeral and commonplace admiration evoked by talent, but by that mysterious empire given to human speech when it draws its power from on high, and becomes that sacerdotal eloquence which Lacordaire carried to perfection, the secret of which he fully possessed. Much of Lacordaire’s success was undoubtedly due to improvisation; for he was, what is a very rare thing, a real extempore speaker! . . . There was doubtless in his accent . . . that piercing and inimitable something which strikes the very deepest chords of the soul, and which, while it testifies tothe reality and depth of the orator’s emotion, carries away and captivates the hearer. I still remember, with an in ward shudder, the despairing ring of his voice, when, in the picture drawn by him of the frailty of human love, . . . he uttered the words:”It is gone, for ever gone.” There were imperfections, of course, in his discourses and in their delivery. “He did not always escape the emphatic; he did not avoid with sufficient care declamation, and he is responsible for the propagation of these faults among his far too numerous imitators.””*

But these defects can easily be excused when we remember the youth of the preacher and the peculiar circumstances in which he inaugurated the conferences. The general opinion of Lacordaire’s eloquence was that Bossuet alone surpassed him, yet that in some ways he was even superior to Bossuet. As Montalembert says again, he “literally carried away his audience, and left it a prey to an emotion which only one word can portray-the word rapture-of which so vulgar an abuse is made, but which, in Christian language, reminds us of the miraculous visions *Montalembert, op. cit., pp 147–157. of St. Paul: Quoniain raptus est in Paradisum. “He has had many eminent successors in the pulpit of Notre Dame,” Foisset tells us, “but none of them, not even one, created the audience that Lacordaire brought forth in 1835. . . . This glory, no matter what may be said, belongs to him exclusively. . . . He alone could show the way to the Church to so many men who had either completely lost it or had never known it.”

The conferences of 1836 were even more successful, the enthusiasm greater, the attendance ever on the increase; what then, was the surprise of his hearers at the close of the conferences that year to hear him announce that he would not continue them, for he “wished to be alone for awhile, with his weakness and with God!” All kinds of rumours were afloat, none of them true, the truth came to be known later. Lacordaire knew that he needed a deeper and firmer grasp of theology, and this was one of the reasons why he determined to go to Rome. But there was another and a graver reason. We have seen that Lacordaire had thought of entering the Jesuit Novitiate at Montrouge while he was still a student at St. Sulpice; this desire had become stronger, and he now determined to weigh the matter carefully and learn what was God’s will. And so he went to Rome and began to study the life of the different religious Orders and of their Founders, and placed himself under the direction of Père de Villefort, a French Jesuit. He had already written his “Considerations upon the Philosophical System of M. de Lamennais,” which had been well received, although the book had almost lost him the friendship of Montalembert. Montalembert, however, saw that Lacordaire was correct in his estimate of their former master and friend, and when Lamennais announced his intention of publishing another volume on “Roman Affairs,” he tried by every means to prevent him, and told him quite plainly that if he did publish it, it would mean the complete severance of all communication between them. Lamennais persisted, however, and brought out his volume, and Lacordaire replied to it immediately. The “Reply” was examined by the Roman authorities, who were thoroughly pleased with it, but owing to the inexplicable attitude of Mgr. de Quelen, publication was withheld for some time. It was published at last, and so great was the satisfaction of Pope Gregory XVI., that he asked Lacordaire to sign his own copy of the work. It is a magnificent defence of the Holy See, as actual at the present time as when it was written.

BECOMES A DOMINICAN

The chief question for Lacordaire, however, was whether he should or should not become a religious. We have no hesitation in saying that, in the circumstances, the decision was of the gravest import not only for himself, but also for the Church in France. It might make or break him; and it might bring glory or discredit upon the Church. Dom Gueranger was trying to restore the Benedictines at Solesmes, and the Society of Jesus had some houses in France, but Lacordaire did not feel any vocation to the life of a monk, and though the desire to become a Jesuit was still there it was not so strong as it had been. Dom Gueranger gave him the Constitution of the Order of Preachers. Lacordaire examined them thoroughly. The name: Order of Preachers, appealed to him, and as he studied the history of the Order and learned its object and ideal, he felt drawn to it with increasing attraction. “After the general question: Should I become a religious? there was a secondary one,” he tells us. “What Order should I enter? The choice lay between the Society of Jesus and the Order of Preachers. Some persons said the day of the religious Orders was past; others said that the Society of Jesus was sufficient for all purposes. Others saw in the Order of Preachers only an out-of-date institution, which bore all the marks and ideas of mediaevalism upon it, and which was unpopular because of its association with the Inquisition.” He prayed, sought advice, then made a retreat at Sant” Eusebio, under Père de Villefort, who advised him to become a Dominican. Another retreat at Solesmes, under Dom Gueranger, settled the matter, and on April 9, 1839, Lacordaire and two young Frenchmen, who had just joined him, received the Dominican habit from the Father-General of the Order in the Minerva at Rome. The next day they left for Viterbo to begin their novitiate in the Priory of La Quercia, Our Lady of the Oak. During his novitiate Lacordaire declined to accept any exemptions. He scrubbed floors, drew water, trimmed the lamps as cheerfully as the youngest novice, and in his spare time wrote his “Life of St. Dominic,” a book that is remarkable for its imagery and literary style, which was praised by Chateaubriand on account of its exquisite beauty, but which is not sufficiently documented to suit the critical taste of writers today. On April 12, 1840, he pronounced his Solemn Vows, and amongst those present at the ceremony was the Countess Albert de la Ferronays, the heroine of Madame Craven’s book: “A Sister’s Story.”

Before he went to France Lacordaire published “Memoir on the Re -establishment of the Order of Preachers in France,” to prepare the way. France, as we have said, had expelled the religious Orders at the Revolution. To bring back these Orders was a daring act, possibly a dangerous move. Lacordaire set himself to write an Apology for all religious Orders by writing in favour of the Order he had entered. “When we, passionate lovers of our age,” he wrote, “asked for liberty to believe nothing, it was granted us. When we asked for liberty to aspire to every position and every honour, it was granted to us. When we asked our country to permit us, young as we were, to treat the most difficult questions which had influence upon its own destiny, permission was granted . . . But now, when moved by that divine impulse which is felt even by this age, we ask permission to follow the inspiration of our faith, to seek no honours, to live in poverty with a few friends who have the same desire as ourselves, we are forbidden, placed under the ban of any number of laws, and all Europe if necessary, is ready to crush us when called upon.”

Lacordaire went to France to look for men who would enter the Order ,and assist in re-establishing it in France. Mgr. de Quelen was dead, but Mgr. Affre, a friend of Lacordaire, was Archbishop of Paris, and when Lacordaire asked his permission to preach in Notre Dame as a Dominican, it was readily given. It was a bold experiment. There was no knowing what would happen, and when he appeared in the pulpit of the Cathedral on February 12, 1841, in his Dominican habit, everyone realised that it was a challenge to the prejudices of France and to its Government. Never did a man win so complete a victory. He preached on behalf of the Society of St. Vincent de Paul, and chose for his subject “The Vocation of the French Nation.” It is not one of his best discourses, but it was a marvellous success. Those who had thrilled at his voice five years previously, thrilled again. They realised that this man was extraordinary. His power had not lessened, his eloquence was as wonderful as it had ever been. The sermon lasted longer than the usual time, and as Lacordaire perceived signs of fatigueamongst some of the audience he exclaimed: “I am long, gentlemen, but it is your fault! It is your history I am telling; you will forgive me if I have made you drink your cup of glory to the full.” There was no tumult, no protest. Lacordaire had won the victory not only for the Order of Preachers in France, but for all the religious Orders. “If the religious Orders are now so closely connected with the religious. life, and by their educational establishments, with the social life of France today,” writes Le Comte d”Haussonville, “if not only the Dominicans, but the Capuchins, Premonstratentians Oblates, Eudists, and many others whose names could be mentioned, are free today in France, live in the open, and give proof of a vigour that is indestructible, they owe it to Lacordaire. He communicated some thing of his own calm audacity and fearless constancy to them, and he first taught them how to vindicate the liberty of the monk in the name of the rights of the citizen.”*

Lacordaire in France in the nineteenth century had done what his brother Dominican, St. Thomas of Aquino, had done in the fourteenth century, fought and won the battle for the religious Orders. The Order of Preachers took fresh root in French soil, and grew and prospered, for God blessed the restoration of the Order by Lacordaire. We cannot speak now of the labours of the French Dominicans, but it will not be out of place to say that when Lacordaire entered the Order in 1839, the old orange tree, which tradition tells us was planted by St. Dominic in the garden of Santa Sabina, on the Aventine in Rome, six hundred years previously, sent out a new off-shoot. The old tree and its offshoot are both fresh and vigorous and fruitful today, and persons regarded the phenomenon as a sign that the future would be asglorious for the Order as its past had been. To use Lacordaire’sown expression, “the Order has nothing ancient about it but its history,” and as he has said and experience proves: “Oaks and monks are immortal.”

Lacordaire returned to Rome immediately after his sermon, and hoped to obtain the authorisation of the Holy See for the erection of a novitiate for France in the old Convent of San Clemente, which belonged to the Irish Dominicans. But he had to face disappointment. Those who had been opposed to him in France had not changed their attitude, and all sorts of accusations were made against him because he had been associated with Lamennais. Possibly as a result of representations made to the authorities at Rome, or possibly to test him and learn what spirit quickened him, permission to establish a novitiate for France was refused, and the Frenchmen who had joined Lacordaire were dispersed, some were sent to the Quercia, the others went to Bosco in Piedmont.

It was a severe blow, but Lacordaire did not fail; and if the authorities really wished to learn whether he was a man of obedience or not, they learned beyond all possibility of doubt that he was. He said once in after years, that when a Frenchman became a religious, he became one “up to the neck,” and Lacordaire set the example. The separation was not long, and Lacordaire plunged into the study of St. Thomas, and prepared his future *Lacordajre, par “Le Comte d’Haussonvllle, p. 124. Paris, 1895. conferences. In 1843, the Archbishop of Paris requested him to renew the Conferences of Notre Dame, and from that year until 1851, except during one Lent, Lacordaire preached the conferences. The enthusiasm was everywhere the same. At Lyons the people waited from five o‘clock in the morning to listen to a conference which began at eleven, and more than once, not only in the Cathedrals of other cities, but in that of Paris, the audience, unable to restrain its feelings, broke into applause. The conferences given in 1835–1836 were very remarkable, and made a deep and lasting impression. Lacordaire has said that he only prepared the way and sowed the seed, others were to reap the harvest. But the number who returned to God after years of sin and forgetfulness of Him; the number whose minds were set at rest, and whose doubts were solved by Lacordaire, and the number whose feet were put in the straight path by him will never be known until God’s Day reveals the secrets of all lives.

When Lacordaire resumed his conferences every one noticed the change in his preaching. He was older, of course, had greater experience, and had suffered, and suffering deepens and strengthens a man’s character and outlook. But there was another reason for the change; the life which Lacordaire had chosen had left its mark upon him. The spirit of St. Dominic quickened him, and that spirit was the spirit of the Apostles. Lacordaire would have been a marvellous preacher if he had remained a secular priest; but it is neither fanciful nor exaggerated to say that he would not have become the apostolic preacher he did become if he had not been a Dominican. Each religious Order has its peculiar ethos, its special spirit, its own ideal, its particular objective. These derive from the founder of the Order, while the legislation and traditions of the Order serve to keep its objective and ideal before its members, and to imbue them with its spirit. The Order of Preachers was established for the salvation of souls by preaching, and while the term “preaching” is accepted in Dominican legislation in a wide sense which includes the teaching of Scripture, philosophy, and theology, the history of the Order during the past seven centuries shows that “preaching” in the strict meaning of the term has always been regarded by the Order as its principal means of saving souls. St. Dominic’s object in founding his Order was to form apostolic men. He sought, to multiply himself, as it were, and Dominican legislation has the same object. Hence we say that, in becoming a Dominican, Lacordaire’s style and character of preaching were strengthened and deepened. The study of St. Thomas had its part in moulding him; Dominican spirituality left its impress upon him in a very marked manner, especially in his passionate love of Our Divine Lord and the Cross. This is evident in his conferences. All critics agree that Lacordaire’s finest conferences are those on Jesus Christ. The Divinity of Our Lord was being bitterly assailed at the time, and when Lacordaire delivered, the conferences of 1846, he aimed at proving the Divinity of Christ, and at preserving and strengthening belief in that Divinity in the souls of the young men especially. He was the orator, but above all he was the apostle, who spoke from a full heart about his Lord and Master Whom he loved even to folly. To read those conferences after all the years moves one beyond description. To have heard them delivered by this whole-souled lover of Our Lord, Christ Crucified, was an experience never to be forgotten. Montalembert has told us that he remembered with a shudder the despairing tone of Lacordaire’s voice when he uttered the words: “It is over-and for ever; and such is the history of human love.” He referred to the XXXIXth Conference, on “The Establishment of the Reign of Jesus Christ,” in which the expression occurs. Then Lacordajre burst forth into one of his most wonderful flights of eloquence, in the following passage: “I am wrong. There is a Man over Whose tomb love still keeps guard; there is a Man Whose sepulchre is not only glorious, as was predicted by the prophet, but beloved. There is a Man Whose ashes, after eighteen centuries, have not yet grown cold; Who is every day born anew in the memory of countless multitudes; Who is visited in His tomb by shepherds and by kings, who vie one with another in offering Him their homage. There is a Man Whose steps are continually being tracked and Who, withdrawn as He is from our bodily eyes, is still discerned by those who unweariedly haunt the spots where He once sojourned, and who seek Him on His Mother’s knees, by the borders of the lake, on the mountain top, in the secret paths among the valleys, under the shadow of the olive trees, or in the silence of the desert. There is a Man Who has died and been buried, but Whose sleeping and waking is still watched by us; Whose every word still vibrates in our hearts, producing there something more than love, for it gives life to those virtues of which love is the mother. There is a Man Who, long ages ago, was fastened to a gibbet, and that Man is every day taken down from the throne of His Passion by thousands of adorers, who prostrate on the earth before Him, and kiss His Bleeding Feet, with unspeakable emotion. There is a Man Who was once scourged, slain, and crucified, but Whom an ineffable Passion has raised from death and infamy, and made the object of an unfailing love, which finds all in Him- peace, honour, joy-nay, ecstacy. There is a Man Who, pursued to death in His own time, with inextinguishable hate, has demanded apostles and martyrs from each successive generation, and has never failed to find them. There is One Man, and One alone, Who has established His love on earth, and it is Thou, O my Jesus! Thou Who hast been pleased to baptize, to anoint, to consecrate me in Thy love, and whose very Name at this moment suffices to move my whole being, and to tear from me these words in spite of myself.*

No man could possibly have uttered words like these with sincerity and conviction, which not only convinced his hearers, but roused them to a chivalrous love of Jesus Christ, if he himself had not been a passionate lover of Christ Crucified. Lacordaire was this even to heroism. His deep, personal love of Our Lord was the secret of Lacordaire’s greatness, and influence for it made him an apostle. First and last, and in every fibre of his being he was an apostle. and those who seek any other motives in his life, even when it led him into the Assembly, do not understand him. He loved souls, and he had learned this love from the Divine Crucified Lover of souls. Sceptical, frivolous, pleasureloving Paris gasped when the veils were partially drawn andLacordaire’s inner life was revealed to men. His intimate friends guessed at his love for Christ Crucified, but they never dreamt that in the nineteenth century, this incomparable orator and uncompromising defender of the liberties of the Church and the Faith, renewed the asceticism of mediaeval times and practised austerities similar to those of the saints. Those who sat enthralled by the eloquence of Lacordaire did not think that he entered the pulpit of Notre Dame with his flesh bruised and bleeding from the scourge. They did not know until he was dead, that in his desire to prove his love of Our Lord, he made his fellow religious tie him to a huge cross on Good Friday and that he hung there from twelve o‘clock until three. . There was no austerity practised by the heroic lovers of the Cross which was not practised by Henry Dominic Lacordaire; and, again, let it. be said that it was this consuming love for Christ Crucified, which sought and found an outlet in self sacrifice, that gives us the key to the character of Lacordaire, and ex plains his zeal, his love of souls, and his friendships.

HIS FRIENDSHIPS

Lacordaire had a genius for making friends, especially with young men: it was a form of his apostolate. Many of these friendships were born at the foot of the pulpit, and many a sceptical, frivolous man was subdued there; to be won to God when he went to lay his doubts and difficulties before Lacordaire, and found him “tender as a mother, stronger than a diamond.” There was nothing weak or sentimental in his friendship, and his direction was robust. He did not shrink from the use of knife and cautery in his effort to win a wavering soul, since in his own words: “If a young man will not feel the sting of pleasure, he must feel the sting of pain.” Hence, amazing though it appears, corporal penances were advised by him, and youths were taught to strengthen themselves against the allurements of the world and the seductions of vice by the use of hair-cloth and discipline. Montalembert, Ozanam, the Abbé Peryve, to mention but three of Lacordaire’s intimate friends, have told us of his influence upon the University students. They trusted him, for he had sympathy with them, and his own experiences had taught him something of the difficulties they had to face. In his desire to help them he founded a Guild for Doctors, and another for Artists, as a means, first of the personal sanctification of the members, and secondly, as a lay apostolate. Ozanam had founded the Society of St. Vincent de Paul. Lacordaire encouraged and supported him, if indeed, the suggestion to establish the Society had not come from him. But Lacordaire was anxious to form a body of lay defenders of the Catholic Church, a body of Catholic professional men, who would work, each in his own sphere, for the regeneration of society. This was the origin of the Guilds, and this was their object.

POLITICAL OPINIONS

We have seen that, from the beginning of his priestly life, Lacordaire had very definite views in regard to the relations of the Church and the State. The Church must be free from all State interference, particularly with reference to the schools. His political opinions became stronger with time, and he was not the man to hide them. Those opinions were not acceptable to everyone, and Lacordaire’s former association with Lamennais made him a suspect, as was to be expected. It is part of the price an uncompromising character must pay for his independent opinions and his influence. He had said he was an “impenitent liberal,” and the expression was criticised as savouring of too much independence. *”The Inner Life of Pere Lacordaire.” By Pêre Chocarne, O.P. English translation. pp. 841–342.

But Lacordaire’s “liberalism” was the same as Newman’s liberalism, and, if I am not mistaken, the great Cardinal acknowledged that in these matters he thought as the famous Dominican. Laçordaire was neither a democrat nor a republican, as men understand these terms. Passionately devoted to liberty, he denounced every attempt to curtail it whether the attempt was made by a monarch, a government, or a demagogue. An agitator can enslave a people as effectively as a tyrant. Politicians are not all or always disinterested persons; only too many of them scheme for their own advantage on the pretence of striving for the common good. And there are Catholics in most Parliaments, who sacrifice the welfare of their fellow Catholics, and betray their Catholic principles to the policy of their party. It was men of this stamp who were branded by Lacordaire as liberatres, a term impossible to translate, but which is somewhat similar to traitor. He had been elected to the Assembly in 1848, but he speedily realised that he was out of place there and resigned. He loved liberty too well to see it trampled upon by those who boasted of Liberty, Equality, Fraternity, while they were bitter opponents of all three.

On February 10, 1853, at the request of Monsigneur Sibour, Lacordaire preached in the Church of St. Roch, before the Archbishops of Paris and Bordeaux. The subject of his sermon was “Character.” Fearless as ever, certain persons took offense at what they considered was an attack upon the Government. It was the old story of chicanery and petty spite, and Lacordaire resolved to discontinue his conferences in Notre Dame, and to preach no more in Paris. But the following year he delivered the remarkable conferences on “Life,” in the Cathedral at Toulouse, and with the exception of those on Jesus Christ, most persons consider them to be the best conferences Lacordaire ever preached. He was only able to preach the first series; the complete series was to have taken six or seven years, but they created extraordinary enthusiasm, and were a fitting crown upon his glorious apostolate amongst the intellectuals of France for twenty years.

THE TEACHING ORDER: SOREZE

The Order of Preachers had been re-established in France solidly and firmly, and the man whom God had chosen for this work was growing oldand worn, but he had another work to do before he died. . “The liberty of liberties for Catholics,” he had said once, “is the liberty of the schools, the freedom to teach. Everything that is most sacred and precious depends upon this liberty.” He loved youth. He had personal experience of the unchristian atmosphere of the State schools, and as has been already said, Montalembert and he had defied the Government and attempted to remedy the existing state of things forty years previously. He now made another attempt by founding a branch of the Order for the Instruction of Youth. The Dominican was not intended to teach a class of boys in a school room. The Order has given Professors of Scripture, Theology, Philosophy, and Canon Law by the thousand, and still gives them, but it did not come within its province to teach school, yet the need was urgent, and Lacordaire set himself to supply it. He adapted the Rule of the Third Order to provide teachers for secondary schools, and his success was great. All the teachers were priests, members of the Order, who, in addition to the usual studies, were specially trained for the work. There were many difficulties to be overcome, hut the work was blessed by God, blessed so unmistakably that three of the first members of the teaching Order now await canonisation as martyrs.

In 1852 the college at Oullins was handed over to Lacordaire by the secular priests who had charge of it, and four of the younger priests entered the teaching Order. Then, in 1854, the old Benedictine School at Soréze, which had been founded in 758 by Pepin le Bref, was offered to him by the Vicar-General of Toulouse. Lacordaire accepted the offer, and the remaining seven years of his life were passed amongst the boys at Sorèze, in seclusion preparing for the end.

Lacordaire’s manner with the boys was characterised by affection, broadness of mind, appreciation of, and sympathy with their ideals, and great loyalty to them. He was their confident and friend, who never failed them and was always accessible. He inspired them with a love of what was noble and honourable for he was the embodiment of honour, and, hence, the boys placed absolute trust in him, particularly when they, saw that he permitted neither spying nor tale-bearing; the two unforgivable sins in a boy’s character. He was the priest always, full of deep, strong faith, intense love of God, Our Lord, the Mother of God, and the Church. With the example of such a man before them, a man whose position in France was unique, the Sorèzians were certain to be influenced very greatly. That they were. so is shown by the generations of manly, upright Catholics who were formed in the School of Sorèze, as well as in those other schools which had received the spirit of Sorèze, Oullins, Arcachon, Arcueil, and Paris.

Duty had ever come first with Lacordaire, and now that he was in charge of a school he inculcated devotion to duty more by his example than by preaching it. Preach he did, however, Sunday after Sunday, and it is worthy of remark that he prepared these sermons as carefully as he had prepared his conferences. It is also worthy of notice, that during the Lent of 1860, he preached on duty to the school. These were his last sermons.

On January 2, 1861, Lacordaire was elected a Member of the French Academy, and was welcomed among the “Immortals” by the renowned Protestant historian, Guizot, who said that France “applauded the joy and pride of the spectacle offered that day by the Academy,” while Lacordaire claimed that he entered this temple of literary glory as “the Symbol of Liberty, accepted and supported by Religion.” The illness from which he died had seized upon him, and his weakness increased to such an extent that he sent his resignation as Provincial to the Father General on August 27. His friends came to see him, and Montalembert persuaded him to dictate his Memoirs; and from his deathbed, Lacordaire dictated “The Memoir on the Restoration of the Order of Preachers in France.” It is incomplete, for it was interrupted by the death of Lacordaire, but we are grateful to Montalembert for having urged and encouraged him to write it. He asked and received the Last Sacraments on November 6, and then it seemed as if God was withdrawing from him one by one the marvellous gifts He had bestowed upon him. “Those eloquent lips which had in old time stirred the listening throngs . . . were now stammering feebly, like the lips of a little child. We experienced a sort of humiliation, mingled with fear, as we listened to those inarticulate sounds escaping from such lips. But, as for him, calm in the midst of the shadows of death, like one who is always a king, even amid the bonds of slavery, when he could not make him self understood by words or signs, thanked the good will of those who surrounded him with a look, then sank back into his former state of repose.” On November 21, the Feast of the Presentation of Our Lady in the Temple, Lacordaire died, and he was buried at Soréze on the following Thursday, the funeral being delivered by the Bishop of Carcassone; Monsignor de la Bouillerie.

We may rightly ask: What has been the verdict of later years upon Lacordaire? We think that the best answer is to be had in the words of the woman at Soréze on the day of Lacordaire’s funeral: Abion un rey, l’aben perdut: “We had a king, and wehave lost him.” “This cry of artless admiration mingled with grief,” wrote Montalembert, two years later, “faithfully depicts the emotion now uppermost in every heart which has either directly or indirectly felt the influence of Lacordaire.” Montalembert wrote when the death of his friend was still fresh, but his words are accurate in this respect, the years that have passed have not robbed Lacordaire of his royalty; men still look up to him as a king, regal in his thought, his eloquence, his character, his, life. With the exception of Bossuet, France has produced no orator who can compare with Lacordaire, and in some ways he is greater than Bossuet. He began his mission in France when France was in sore need of an apostle who could meet the forces of infidelity face to face and overthrow them. He was that apostle. He roused France from her lethargy. He made the educated classes proud of their Catholic Faith and their Catholic inheritance. He appealed to the intellectuals of his day as no other man appealed; and, as an Apologist for Catholic belief, he not only taught those who contradicted it that flippancy and sneers are no reply to its claims, but he established a new method of Apologetics. Hitherto it had been the rule to begin with the existence of God, then proceed to show the possibility and fact of Revelation, then the fact of the Fall, the Incarnation, and then the truth of the Catholic Church. Lacordaire inverted this order. He began with the fact which cannot be denied, the Catholic Church, and he worked upwards from this fact to the existence of God.

He was extremely sensitive yet his character was strong, so strong that it would not permit him to bow to the idol of the hour even when others, whose position should have made them mindful of their dignity, did so. “We must stand upright when so many crawl,” he wrote once to a friend, “and I thank God for having given me a soul that is strong enough to remain steadfast at a time when deceit is crowned with success.”

It is scarcely necessary to say that many of his opinions did not find favour with those in authority, but while Lacordaire had deep respect for authority, he also had too much reverence for human reason to change his opinions easily when no such change was demanded by the teaching or the policy of the Church. Time has shown how just and true most of his opinions were even if some of them were premature, for Catholic France has adopted the teaching of Lacordaire in our day, and in doing so has saved her soul.

He was blessed with friends who stood by him in the hour of trouble and helped him in his difficulties, but they would be the first to acknowledge that they received more than they gave. Foremost amongst these friends is Madame Swethcino. She was rather a mother to him than friend, always loyal, always a support to him, yet never blind to his imperfections. Others were equally loyal, the Abbé Peryve, Ozanam, Foisset, Cartier, and Montalembert, and as he lay upon his deathbed and spoke of his friends, weaving the names of the living with those who had gone, we think of the closing lines of Newman’s “Apologia,” in which the Cardinal names the friends who had been so loyal to him in days of doubt and loneliness, whom God had given to him in the place of others he had taken away, and we realise in some way what friendship that is friendship, can do for souls.

No man is perfect. Everyone makes mistakes although not everyone is sufficiently humble to acknowledge them. Lacordaire made mistakes, but he acknowledged that he made them, and thus showed his true greatness and nobility of soul. If it be true, “That nothing walks with aimless feet,” surely the purpose of lives and the influence of men like Lacordaire must be great indeed. This influence does not cease when they have passed; it continues and is effective in succeeding ages. Hence, we say that, if France today is quickened by a new spirit, more robust, more daring, one might almost say more aggressive in the ways of God, as France assuredly is, she is indebted for this renewal of the old faith of the Franks in an exceedingly large measure to the genius, the eloquence, and the teaching of Lacordaire.

Nihil Obstat:

J. Donovan,

Censor Deputatus.

Imprimatur:

@ D. Mannix,

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis. 1930

********

Latin—The Language of The Church

BISHOP JOHN

INDEX

THE SERVANT OF THE SERVANTS OF GOD ON PERMANENT RECORD PART I THE VALUE AND IMPORTANCE OF LATIN

1. THE CHURCH’S HERITAGE

1.THE WISDOM OF THE ANCIENT WORLD, enshrined in Greek and Roman literature, and the truly memorable teaching of ancient peoples, served, surely, to herald the dawn of that gospel which God’s Son, ‘the judge and teacher of grace and truth, the light and guide of the human race,’ 1 proclaimed on earth.

Such, at any rate, was the view of the Church’s Fathers and Doctors. In these outstanding literary monuments of antiquity they recognized man’s spiritual preparation for the supernatural riches which Jesus Christ communicated to mankind ‘to give history its fulfilment.’ 2

Thus the inauguration of Christianity did not mean the obliteration of man’s past achievements. Nothing was lost that was in any way true, right, noble, and beautiful.

2 The Church has ever held the literary evidences of this wisdom in the highest esteem. She values especially the Greek and Latin languages, in which wisdom itself is cloaked, as it were, in a vesture of gold. She has likewise welcomed the use of other venerable languages, which flourished in the East, for these too have had no little influence on the progress of humanity and civilization. By their use in sacred liturgies and versions of Holy Scripture they have remained in force in certain regions even to the present day, bearing constant witness to the living voice of antiquity.

3 But amid this variety of languages a primary place must surely be given to that language which had its origins in Latium and later proved so admirable a means for the spreading of Christianity throughout the West. And since in God’s special providence this language united so many nations together under the authority of the Roman Empire—and that for so many centuries- it also became the rightful language of the Apostolic See.3 It was thus preserved for posterity and was instrumental in joining the Christian peoples of Europe together in the close bonds of unity.

2. THE CULTURAL VALUE OF LATIN

4 Of its very nature Latin is most suitable for promoting every form of culture among peoples. It gives rise to no jealousies. It does not favour any one nation, but presents itself with equal impartiality to all, and is equally acceptable to all.

Nor must we overlook the characteristic nobility of Latin’s formal structure. Its ‘concise, varied, and harmonious style, full of majesty and dignity,’ 4 makes for singular clarity and impressiveness of expression.

3. ITS RELIGIOUS VALUE

5. For these reasons the Apostolic See has always been at pains to preserve Latin, deeming it worthy of being used in the exercise of her teaching authority ‘as the splendid vesture of her heavenly doctrine and sacred laws.’ 5 She further requires her sacred ministers to use it, for by so doing they are the better able, wherever they may be, to acquaint themselves with the mind of the Holy See on any matter, and communicate the more easily with Rome and with one another.

6. Thus the ‘knowledge and use of this language,’ so intimately bound up with the Church’s life, ‘is important not so much on cultural or literary grounds as for religious reasons.’ 6 These are the words of Our Predecessor, Pius XI, who conducted a scientific enquiry into this whole subject and indicated three qualities of the Latin language which harmonize to a remarkable degree with the Church’s nature. ‘For the Church, precisely because it embraces all nations and is destined to endure until the end of time . . . of its very nature requires a language which is universal, immutable, and non-vernacular.’ 7

4. THE CHURCH’S LIVING LANGUAGE

(a) Universal

7. Since every Church must assemble round the Roman Church,’ 8 and since the Supreme Pontiffs have ‘true episcopal power, ordinary and immediate, over each and every Church and over each and every Pastor, as well as over the faithful’9 of every rite and every language, it seems particularly desirable that the instrument of mutual communication be uniform and universal, especially between the Apostolic See and the Churches which use the same Latin rite.

When, therefore, the Roman Pontiffs wish to instruct the Catholic world, or the Congregations of the Roman Curia handle affairs or draw up decrees which concern the whole body of the faithful, they invariably make use of Latin, for this is the ‘mother tongue’ acceptable to countless nations.

(b) Immutable

8. Furthermore, the Church’s language must be not only universal but also immutable. Modern languages are liable to change, and no single one of them is superior to the others in authority. Thus the truths of the Catholic Church were entrusted to an unspecified number of them, the meaning of these truths, varied as they are, would not be manifested to everyone with sufficient clarity and precision. There would, moreover, be no language that could serve as a common and constant norm by which to gauge the exact meaning of other renderings.

But Latin is indeed such a language. It is set and unchanging. It has long since ceased to be affected by those alterations in the meaning of words which are the normal result of daily, popular use. Certain Latin words, it is true, acquired new meanings as Christian teaching developed and needed to be explained and defended, but these new meanings have long since become accepted and firmly established.

(c) Non-vernacular

9. Finally, the Catholic Church has a dignity far surpassing that of every merely human society, for it was founded by Christ the Lord. It is altogether fitting, therefore, that the language it uses should be noble and majestic, and nonvernacular.

5. OTHER ADVANTAGES OF LATIN: ITS EDUCATIONAL VALUE

10. In addition, the Latin language ‘can be called truly Catholic.’ 10 It has been consecrated through constant use by the Apostolic See, the mother and teacher of all Churches, and must be esteemed ‘a treasure . . . of incomparable worth.’ 11

It is a general passport to the proper understanding of the Christian writers of antiquity and the documents of the Church’s teaching.12 It is also a most effective bond, binding the Church of today with that of the past and of the future in wonderful continuity.

11. There can be no doubt as to the formative and educational value of the language of the Romans and of great literature generally. It is a most effective training for the pliant minds of youth. It exercises, matures and perfects the principal faculties of mind and spirit. It sharpens the wits and gives keenness of judgment. It helps the young mind to grasp things accurately, and develop a true sense of values. It is also a means for teaching highly intelligent thought and speech.

6. THE CHURCH’S POLICY WITH REGARD TO LATIN

12. It will be quite clear from these considerations why the Roman Pontiffs have so often extolled the excellence and importance of Latin, and why they have prescribed its study and use by the secular and regular clergy, forecasting the dangers that would result from its neglect.

13. And We also, impelled by the weightiest of reasons—the same as those which prompted Our Predecessors and provincial synods13—are fully determined to restore this language to its position of honour and to do all We can to promote its study and use. The employment of Latin has recently been contested in some quarters, and many are asking what the mind of the Apostolic See is in this matter. We have therefore decided to issue the timely directives contained in this document, so as to ensure that the ancient and uninterrupted use of Latin be maintained and, where necessary, restored.

14. It seems to Us We made Our own views on this subject sufficiently plain in Our address to some eminent Latin scholars. ‘It is a matter of regret,’ We said, ‘that so many people, unaccountably dazzled by the marvellous progress of science, are taking it upon themselves to oust or restrict the study of Latin and other kindred subjects . . . Yet in spite of the urgent need for science, Our own view is that the very contrary policy should be followed. The greatest impression is made on the mind by those things which correspond more closely to man’s nature and dignity, and therefore the greater zeal should be shown in the acquisition of whatever educates and enobles the mind. Otherwise poor mortal creatures may well become like the machines they build—cold, hard, and devoid of love.’ 14

PART II

PROVISIONS FOR THE PROMOTION OF THE STUDY OF LATIN

15. With the foregoing considerations in mind, to which We have given careful thought, We now, in the full consciousness of Our office and in virtue of Our authority, decree and command the following:

1. Bishops and superiors-general of religious orders shall be at pains to ensure that in their seminaries, and in their schools where adolescents are trained for the priesthood, all shall studiously observe the Apostolic See’s decision in this matter and obey these Our prescriptions most carefully.

2. In the exercise of their paternal care they shall be on their guard lest anyone under their jurisdiction, being eager for innovation (novarum rerum studiosi), writes against the use of Latin in the teaching of the higher sacred studies or in the liturgy, or through prejudice makes light of the Holy See’s will in this regard or interprets it falsely.

3. As is laid down in Canon Law (can. 1364) or commanded by Our Predecessors, before Church students begin their ecclesiastical studies proper they shall be given a sufficiently lengthy course of instruction in Latin by highly competent masters following a method designed to teach them the language with the utmost accuracy. ‘And that too for this reason: lest later on, when they begin their major studies . . . they are unable by reason of their ignorance of the language to gain a full understanding of the doctrines or take part in those scholastic disputations which constitute so excellent an intellectual training for young men in the defence of the faith.’ 15

We wish the same rule to apply to those whom God calls to the priesthood later on in life and whose classical studies have either been neglected or conducted too superficially. No one is to be admitted to the study of philosophy or theology except he be thoroughly and perfectly grounded in this language and capable of using it.

4. Wherever the study of Latin has suffered partial eclipse through the assimilation of the academic programme to that which obtains in State schools, with the result that the instruction given is no longer so thorough and wellgrounded as formerly, there the traditional method of teaching this language shall be completely restored. Such is Our will, for there should be no doubt in anyone’s mind about the necessity of keeping a strict watch over the course of studies followed by Church students; and that not only as regards the number and kind of subjects they study, but also as regards the length of time devoted to the teaching of these subjects.

Should circumstances of time and place demand the addition of other subjects to the curriculum besides the usual ones, then either the course of studies must be lengthened, or these additional subjects must be condensed or their study relegated to another time.

5. In accordance with numerous previous instructions, the major sacred sciences shall be taught in Latin, which, as we know from many centuries of use, ‘must be considered most suitable for explaining with the utmost facility and clarity the most difficult and profound ideas and concepts.’ 16 For apart from the fact that it has long since been enriched with a vocabulary of appropriate and unequivocal terms best calculated to safeguard the integrity of the Catholic faith, it also serves in no slight measure to prune away useless verbiage.

Hence the professors of these sciences in universities or seminaries are required to speak Latin and to make use of textbooks written in Latin. Those whose ignorance of Latin makes it difficult for them to obey these instructions shall gradually be replaced by professors who are suited to this task. Any difficulties that may be advanced by students or professors must be overcome either by the patient insistence of the bishops or religious superiors, or by the good will of the professors.

6. Since Latin is the Church’s living language, it must be adequate to daily increasing linguistic requirements. It must be furnished with new words that are apt and suitable for expressing modern things, words that will be uniform and universal in their application and constructed in conformity with the genius of the ancient Latin tongue. Such was the method followed by the sacred Fathers and the best scholastic writers. To this end, therefore, We commission the Sacred Congregation of Seminaries and Universities to set up a Latin Academy staffed by an international body of competent Latin and Greek professors. The principal aim of this Academy- like the national academies founded to promote their respective languages- will be to superintend the proper development of Latin, augmenting the Latin lexicon where necessary with words which conform to the particular character and colour of the language. It will also conduct schools for the study of Latin of every era, particularly the Christian one. The aim of these schools will be to impart a fuller understanding of Latin and the ability to use it and to write it with proper elegance. They will exist for those who are destined to teach Latin in seminaries and ecclesiastical colleges, or to write decrees and judgments or conduct correspondence in the ministries of the Holy See, diocesan curias, and the offices of religious orders.

7. Latin is closely allied to Greek both in formal structure and the importance of its extant writings. Hence- as Our Predecessors have frequently ordained—future ministers of the altar must be instructed in Greek in the lower and middle schools. Thus, when they come to study the higher sciences- and especially if they are aiming for a degree in Sacred Scripture or theology- they will be enabled to follow the Greek sources of scholastic philosophy and understand them correctly; and not only these, but also the original texts of Sacred Scripture, the liturgy, and the sacred Greek Fathers.17

8. We further commission the Sacred Congregation of Seminaries and Universities to prepare a syllabus for the teaching of Latin which all shall faithfully observe. The syllabus will be designed to give those who follow it an adequate understanding of the language and its use. Bishops in conference may indeed rearrange this syllabus if circumstances warrant, but they must never curtail it or alter its nature. Ordinaries may not take it upon themselves to put their own proposals into effect until these have been examined and approved by the Sacred Congregation. Finally, in virtue of Our Apostolic Authority, We will and command that all the decisions, decrees, proclamations and recommendations of this Our Constitution remain firmly established and ratified, notwithstanding anything to the contrary however worthy of special note.

Given at Rome, at St Peter’s, on the feast of St Peter’s Throne, on the 22nd day of February, in the year 1962, the fourth of Our Pontificate.

JOHN PP. XXIII

1.’Tertullian, Apol. 21; Migne, P.L. t, p.394. 2 Eph. 1:10. 3 EPIST. S. Cong. Stud. Vehementer sane, ad Ep. universos, 1 July 1908; Ench. Cler., N. 820. Cf. also EPIST. AP. Pii XI, Unigenitus Dei Filius, 19 Mar. 1924; universos, 1 July 1908; Ench. Cler., N. 820. Cf. also EPIST. AP. Pii XI, Unigenitus Dei Filius, 19 Mar. 1924; 453. 5. Pius XI, Motu Proprio Litterarum latinarum, 20 Oct. 1924; A.A.S. xvi (1924), p.417. 6. ‘Pius XI, EPIST. AP. Officiorum omnium, 1 Aug. 1922; A.A.S. xiv (1922), p.452. 7. ‘Ibid. 8 St Iren., Adv. Haer. 3, 3, 2; Migne, P.G. vii, p.848. 9 Cf. C./.C., can. 218, §2.

10. Cf. Pius XI, EPIST. AP. Officiorum omnium, 1 Aug. 1922; A.A.S. (1922), p.453.

11. Pius XII, Alloc. Magis quam, 23 Nov. 1951: A.A.S. xuit (1951), p.737.

12. Leo XIII, EPIST. ENCYCL. Depuis le jour, 8 Sept. 1899; Acta Leonis XIII, xix (1899), p.166.

13. Cf. Collectio Lacensis, especially: vol. In, p.1018s. (Conc. Prov. Westmonasteriense, a. 1859); vol. tv, p.29 (Conc. Prov. Parisiense, a. 1849); vol. iv, pp.149, 153 (Col. Prov. Rhemense, a. 1849); vol. iv, pp. 359, 361 (Conc. Prov. Avenionense, a. 1849); vol. iv, pp.394, 396 (Conc. Prov. Burdigalense, a. 1850); vol. v, p.61 (Conc. Strigoniense, a. 1858); vol. v, p.664 (Conc. Prov. Colocense, a. 1863); vol. vI, p.619 (Synod. Vicariatus Suchnensis, a. 1803).

14. “International Convention for the Promotion of Ciceronian Studies, 7 Sept. 1959; in Discorsi Messaggi Colloqui of the Holy Father John XXIII, 1, pp.234–235; cf. also Address to Roman pilgrims of the Diocese of Piacenza, 15 April 1959: L’Osservatore Rom., 16 April 1959; EPIST. Pater misericordiarum, 22 Aug. 1961: A.A.S. Lin (1961), p.677; Address given on the occasion of the solemn inauguration of the College of the Philippine Islands at Rome, 7 Oct. 1961: L’Osservatore Rom., 9–10 Oct. 1961; EPIST. lucunda laudatio, 8 Dec. 1961: A.A.S. un (1961), p.812.

15. Pius XI, EPIST. AP. Officiorum omnium, 1 Aug. 1922; A.A.S. xiv (1922), p.453.

16. “EPIST. S. C. Studiorum, Vehementer sane, 1 July 1908; Ench. Cler., n. 821.

17. “Leo XIII, Lirr. ENCYCL. Providentissimus Deus, 18 Nov. 1893; Acta Leonis XIII, mu (1893), p.342; EPIST. Plane quidem intelligis, 20 May 1885, Acta Leonis XIII, v, pp.63–64; Pius XII, Alloc. Magis quam, 23 Sept. 1951; A.A.S. XLIII (1951), p.737.

Let Us Judge Catholics By The Bible

“IF IT’S ABOUT THE CATHOLIC CHURCH . . . ASK A CATHOLIC!”

INDEX

The above is the subtitle of a leaflet published by the Home Mission Board of the Southern Baptist Convention.

The title of the leaflet is “Ask a Catholic!”

The origin of the title and the purpose of the leaflet are set forth in its opening paragraphs.

“In recent months you have no doubt noted advertisements in newspapers telling all who wish factual information about the teachings of the Catholic Church to “ask a Catholic.”

“Taking that advice we will ask our Catholic friends these ten questions:

Where in the Bible does it mention praying to Mary or to saints?

Where in the Bible does it say that either Peter or a pope is infallible?

Where in the Bible is a “Mass” mentioned?

Where in the Bible is purgatory mentioned?

Where in the Bible is the authorization for nunneries or monasteries mentioned?

Where in the Bible is the eating of meat on Friday called a sin?

Where in the Bible are seven sacraments mentioned?

Where in the Bible is confession of sins to a priest mentioned?

Where in the Bible does it say a church can add to the teachings of God’s Word?

Where in the Bible does it say that Mary is a mediator between God and man?”

It is encouraging to find those who are interested in questions pertaining to Catholic belief and practice turning to informed Catholic sources for their information. Too often, people get it from sources that are most unreliable. And too often people who are interested in the Catholic answers to questions such as the above do not realize that Catholics are anxious to give them the right answers.

These questions are sincere and reasonably dear. They deserve and will be given equally sincere and clear answers.

Would that the answers could be equally brief! But if they were, they would be too general to be clear. Such questions are not satisfactorily answered by one or more references to the Bible because they expect more than that. The use of such Catholic terms as “Pope,” “Purgatory,” “monastery” and “the Mass” in the questions demands an explanation of what these terms mean- what things and ideas they represent, so that their presence in the Bible can be recognized or the reason for their absence from the Bible will be understood.

Since each of the questions is concerned With “Where does the Bible mention-” or “Where does the Bible say- “an important caution is in order. It should be borne in mind that Catholics do not go to the Bible looking for mere words. We try to understand the ideas and things which the Bible teaches.

When we find these ideas and things, we speak and write about them, using words and phrases which are not always found in the Bible. This is in every way right and reasonable.

Nowhere does the Bible itself demand that its readers adhere to Biblical terminology in speaking about what it teaches. To do so would be impossible in a world where so many languages are in use.

Like Christians in the past, Christians today tend to develop and use their own terms, names and expressions when they speak of what they consider to be Scriptural truth. For example, as you read books which purport to give statements of Baptist belief, you will meet such statements as “the New Testament churches were independent, selfgoverning democratic bodies . . . ,” but, nowhere in the Bible will you find the expression “democratic bodies.” “Hereditary sin” is often used in explanations of Baptist belief, but this name cannot be found in the Bible. The “Christian Sabbath” is frequently used for the Lord’s Day, but no such name is found in the Bible. As a matter of fact, the very title “Bible,” which is given to the book containing the inspired Scriptures, will be found nowhere in the book itself.

It cannot be wrong, therefore, and it should not be unexpected that we Catholics have our own names and expressions when we speak of the ideas and things which we find in the Bible. If we find that the Bible speaks of a place and a state after death which cannot be identified as Hell or Heaven, we have a perfect right to call it “Purgatory” or any other name which we deem appropriate. If we find it more convenient to use the term “Mass” to designate the Service in which we do what Christ did and what He charged us to do at the Last Supper, can anyone reasonably object that the Mass is not in the Bible merely because the word is not there?

This must be emphasized because, unfortunately, there are those who, with little apparent concern for the true meaning of the Bible, place an exaggerated importance on the use of Biblical words and language of the English translation of the Scripture. We shall have frequent occasion to repeat this caution in the answers to the ten questions which we welcome the opportunity to give.

IS IT CATHOLIC OR “ROMAN” CATHOLIC?

We are pleased to find ourselves addressed as “Catholics” in the leaflet we are considering, because many object to our use of the title “Catholic Church.” They insist we should say “Roman” Catholic Church and that we should call ourselves “Roman Catholics.” And when we do not do so in public print, especially when dealing. with matters of a strictly religious nature, we are accused of offending against all codes of truth, fair practice, public honesty, and so on.

It may not be out of place, therefore, to get this difficulty out of the way and to make it very plain that we do not use the title “Roman Catholic” for three good reasons. 1) It is a nickname pinned on our Church- and we do not like nicknames. 2) In the sense intended by those who demand that we use it, the title “Roman Catholic” involves a contradiction- and as such, it is hardly an appropriate title for our Church. 3) It is not the historical title of our Church, nor the one which is sanctioned by popular usage.

Why do we say it is a nickname?

Let us look at the record and find out.

The “Oxford English Dictionary” is generally recognized as being one of the highest existing authorities on the meaning and derivation of English words, and is not likely to be suspected of Catholic bias. Under the heading “Roman Catholic,” we read: “The use of this composite term in the place of the simple Roman, Romanist, or Romish, which had acquired an invidious sense, appears to have arisen in the early years of the Seventeenth Century. For conciliatory reasons, it was employed in the negotiations connected with the Spanish Match (1618–1624) and appears in formal documents . . . after this date, it was generally adopted as a noncontroversial term and has long been the recognized legal and official designation, though in ordinary use, “Catholic” alone is very frequently employed” (New Oxf. Dict. VIII 766).

It should be noted that “Roman Catholic” is said to be a substitute for “Roman,” “Romanist,” “Romish,” which had acquired an invidious sense. Very true! This term was adopted by hostile usage early in the Seventeenth Century, but even in 1582, attacks upon the Catholic Church were using this name with considerable freedom. “The starting point,” writes Herbert Thurston in a tract entitled “The Name ‘Roman Catholic’ “, “would seem to be found in the unwillingness of the average English Protestant to abandon the term “Catholic” to the adherents of the older Faith. In Germany, Luther had omitted the word “Catholic” from the Creed, but this was by no means the case in England. The majority of the Reformers, including even a number of those whose sympathies were in general decidedly on the side of the Puritans, not only were unwilling to concede any monopoly of the name “Catholic” to their opponents but loudly asserted that the partisans of Rome were no true Catholics and that the reformed religion alone could justly claim the title.”

“POPISH CATHOLICS”

Thus we find them writing and speaking about the “Popish party,” (Philpot), “Catholics after the Pope’s making,” “the Pope’s Catholic religion,” “the Pope’s Catholics” ( John Foxe). On the assumption that there might be different kinds of Catholics, it was easy to pass from “Pope’s Catholics” to “Romish Catholics” and “Papists”; and this is what in fact happened. In a book written in 1587, entitled “A Deliberat Answere,” Robert Crowley contrasts “Popish Catholics” or “Romish Catholics” with “Protestant Catholics,” meaning thereby all earnest followers of the reformed religion. The combination “Roman Catholic” was being used at the same time and even earlier in anti- Catholic books such as “A Checke or Reproofe” by Wilburn, published in 1581.

But while “Roman Catholic” seems undoubtedly to be a more polite brand for Catholics than “Romish Catholics” or “Popish Catholics,” the context in which the expression appears is far from courteous. And no evidence has been revealed that English Catholics of those days welcomed or acquiescently accepted such theological nicknames but rather resented them for what they meant and were intended to mean- a spurious variety of Catholic. They resisted the name “Roman Catholic” until it was absolutely forced upon them.

The New Oxford Dictionary is probably right in suggesting that the title “Roman Catholic,” as the English quasiofficial designation of the Church which recognized the Bishop of Rome as its visible head, dates from the Spanish Marriage negotiations of 1618–1624. King James I in early proclamations and addresses made reference to his Catholic subjects as “Popish” or “Romish” and went out of his way to declare them “falsely called Catholics but truly Papists” (Speech in Parliament, May 1604). But in dealing with the Spaniards and no doubt out of consideration for their Catholic feelings, a more courteous tone was employed and the term used to designate the religion of the Spanish was “Roman Catholic” and “Catholic” alone was sometimes used.

From this time on, it appears that Official English documents commonly used the form “Roman Catholic” in a conciliatory mood which was gradually less resented, but not officially accepted by Catholics, even though the title was creeping into legal language and popular usage. In 1897, the advisors of the King of England raised objections against receiving officially any address from the Catholic archbishop and bishops in which they called themselves “Catholics.” The only permissible style was declared to be “Roman Catholic.” Even the form “Bishop of the Catholic and Roman Church in England” was not allowed. Thus the name “Roman Catholic” was made compulsory by the State.

This brings up the second reason why we cannot accept the name “Roman Catholic.” In the sense intended by nonCatholics who insist upon the title, it involves a contradiction and at the very best, is ambiguous.

What He Meant When the Cardinal, Archbishop Vaughn, was compelled in 1901 to employ the title “Roman Catholic” in official dealings with the King, he did so, reserving to himself the right to explain on a public occasion, the sense in which he used the title. “By it (the title ‘Roman Catholic’), you mean one thing,” he said, “and we another. It therefore becomes an equivocal term and if I deliberately use it as such, I equivocate . . . if I should use it in my own and in the Catholic sense and not in yours, I owe it to you and to myself to state frankly that we are using the term in two different senses.” (Snead Cox, Life of Cardinal Vaughn II, 235). He declared that “The term ‘Roman Catholic’ has two meanings; a meaning that we repudiate and a meaning that we accept.” After showing that according to Protestants, “Catholic” was a genus—a kind-of which “Roman,” “Anglo-,” “Greek,” etc. were species-or Catholic meant a circle divided into Roman, English, and Greek sections, he went on to explain the sense acceptable to the Catholic Church.

TRULY CATHOLIC

“With us the prefix ‘Roman’ is not restrictive to a species or a section but simply declaratory of Catholic. It explains the meaning of Catholic applied to the religion of Christ and asserts its unity. But in another way, the word ‘Roman’ bears the same relation that the center bears to the circumference of a circle. All the radii rest in their common center, the whole circumference is thus brought into unity with its center. This is to be Catholic.

“‘Roman’ as prefixed to ‘Catholic’ is therefore declaratory that the central point of Catholicity is Roman, the Roman See of Peter.” (The Tablet- Sept. 14, 1901).

This goes to the very heart of the matter. A Church cannot be catholic-universal, world-wide, and at the same time be localized or restricted to a certain country or to a certain nation, no matter where its people may be. But a Church which is world-wide- universal- catholic, can have its unifying headquarters in the city of Rome and it is in this sense that the Catholic Church is “Roman.”

The full name of our Church is “the Holy Catholic Apostolic Roman Church.” “Roman” is added not to restrict the meaning of “Catholic” but simply to mark the visible center of unity; and since it must have a,center of unity somewhere, it is obvious that “Roman,” far from neutralizing the meaning of the word “Catholic,” serves rather to confirm it and to make the catholicity of the Church more striking and unmistakable.

THE HISTORY

Since it is said that the use of the title “Catholic” instead of “Roman Catholic” is a “deception” and using words in a “double sense,” it is well to point out that we are building no argument on a mere name. We do not say that because it is called Catholic ours is the True Church. We do maintain that the Church which today, and through history, looks to the Bishop of Rome as the successor of St. Peter and the Vicar of Christ, is legitimately called “Catholic.” This is its official name, the name by which it has always designated itself and by which it has been designated by others. It is its historical name, its proper name by which it is distinguished in history and in the common speech of mankind. No other Church or ecclesiastical body, worthy of serious consideration, has ever been known and distinguished among men by the name “Catholic.” In the early days of Christianity, the Donatists claimed it, but could not appropriate it. They are known in history only as “Donatists.” That Church alone with the Pope at its head has borne and bears that title and when speaking of ourselves, we as rightfully call ourselves “Catholics” as others are right in calling themselves “Methodists,” “Lutherans,” “Anglicans,” “Baptists,” etc.

If the name is an argument in our favor in the minds of some, that is no reason why we should change our name. We are not obliged to change our name because others have changed their Faith and sought religious authority elsewhere. Unquestionably, the name “Catholic” is a strong presumption in our favor and that advantage is rightfuly ours. We could not surrender it without being disloyal to Christ and false to history.

All this is more than quibbling over a name. Christ intended His Church to be catholic, we use the small “c” in speaking of the essential characteristic which He gave His Church, which was to teach ALL men, ALL things whatsoever He had commanded, ALL times. This is the idea and the fact of catholicity which Christ built into His Church. He Himself gave His Church no name and we do not go to the Scriptures, which have been translated into countless languages, looking for names, but for things. His Church in the world today must be catholic in fact and possess the catholicity which He promised, no matter what name it bears.

But, as we have said, the name “Catholic” has come down to us from earliest Christian times. Ignatius, who died for his Faith in 107 A. D., appears to have been the first to have recorded the title: “Where Christ is,” he wrote, “there is the Catholic Church.” (Ad Symrn. n. 8, P. G.). Some time later, the martyrdom of Polycarp (167 A. D.) was recorded and he was called the “bishop of the Catholic Church in Smyrna.” (Ad Eph. n. 3). In the same century, referring to a certain Marcion and Valentinus, Tertullian wrote: “It is agreed that they lived not so long ago, generally speaking, in the reign of Antoninus, and that they first believed in the doctrine of the Catholic Church in the Church of Rome . . .” (De Praescrip. n. 30).

WELL KNOWN

Most explicit is Augustine: “The Christian religion is to be held by us,” he wrote, “and the communion of that Church which is catholic, and is called Catholic, not only by its own members, but also by all its adversaries. For in spite of themselves . . . when speaking not with their fellows, but with strangers, they call the catholic Church nothing else but the Catholic Church.

They cannot be understood unless they distinguish her by that name by which she is designated by the whole world.” (De Ver. Relig. n. 12).

We make no rash and unwarranted claim when we say that we are known as “Catholics” today and our Church in popular usage is called the “Catholic Church.” Go into any town or city in the land, ask any lad or hotel clerk or policeman the location of the “Catholic” Church and you will be correctly directed without insisting that it is the “Roman Catholic” Church that you desire to visit.

PROPER NAME

The name “Catholic” was not monopolized in the Sixteenth Century for controversial purposes. It is the name handed down continuously to us through history. We use this name ourselves and we ask those not of our Faith to use it because it is our customary and proper name. Common usage has never sanctioned any other.

However, since “Roman Catholic” has lost most of its invidious meaning, Catholics will not get their blood pressure up when this title continues to appear in public print. We, ourselves, will use it, if need be. But let no one say, in the face of facts, that it is the proper name of our Church.

WHAT ABOUT ADDING TO THE WORD OF GOD?

Where in the Bible does it say a church can add to the teachings of God’s word?

This is the ninth question in the list;, and the first which we shall consider in order to introduce some semblance of order in the subject matter with which the questions deal.

The answer is, of course, that nowhere does the Bible say a Church can add to the teaching of God’s word. In fact, it says the very opposite.

We do not take this stand merely because St. John in the Apocalypse (Revelations), referring to “the words of prophecy of this book,” says: “If anyone shall add to them, God will add unto him the plagues that are written in this book” (22:8). When the Apostle speaks of “adding to the words of prophecy of this book,” he meant his book alone. He was not referring to the whole Bible. Our reason for saying that the Bible condemns any addition to the teaching of the Word of God is not based upon a faulty interpretation of this text.

There is something else in the proposed question which needs clarification. When we read “where in the Bible does it say ‘‘a” church can add to the teaching of God’s word,” there appears to be at least an insinuation that there is more than one Church. “A” church is not Scriptural language but that of post-Reformation confusion. In the New Testament it is “the” Church or, in one instance, “my” (Christ’s) Church. And when the New Testament speaks of “churches,” it is always the Church in particular places as in Ephesus, Corinth or Jerusalem. This means the same Church in different places, not different Churches. Following the New Testament, we shall speak of “the” Church.

Our answer that the Church cannot add to the teaching of the Word of God is based upon the meaning of “the Word of God” in the New Testament and the function of the Church as far as the Word of God is concerned.

The expression “the Word of God” is used over and over again in the New Testament. Sometimes it means a decree of God (Romans 9:28), or commandments given by God in the Old Testament (Mark 7:13; Gal. 5:14), or a divine promise (Romans 9:6), or a prayer composed of quotations from the Old Testament (I Tim. 4:5), and even divine prophecies of future events (Apoc. 1:2).

More often, however, it signifies the body of truth which God has revealed to us through Jesus Christ and which was taught by His Apostles. It was Christ Who gave the Word of God the Father to the Apostles (John 17:14). And they kept the Word of God (John 17:6; 7:16). This Word of God according to which the Apostles urged their hearers and readers to conform their lives is the teaching of Christ, the doctrine of the Christian religion (Titus 2:5; I John 1:10; 2:14).

REVEALED TRUTH

Those who announce the gospel are said to speak the Word of God (Acts 4:31; 13:46; Phil. 1:14; Heb. 13:7), to proclaim the Word of God (Acts 13:5; 17:13), to teach the Word of God (Acts 18:11).

The hearers of the gospel of Christ are said to hear the Word of God (Acts 13:7), and to receive the Word of God (Acts 8:14; 11:1).

The meaning of the expression “the Word of God,” therefore, is usually God’s revealed truth made known by Christ (Luke 5:1; 8:1121) or taught by the Apostles (John 17:20; Acts 2:41; 4:4; 6:2; 10:44; 8:5). It is Christ’s own teaching (John 5:24; 8:31; 37:51; 12:48; 14:23). And that of His Apostles (Col. 3:16; Heb. 6:1; I John 2:5).

“God,” says St. Paul (Heb. 1:1), “who at sundry times and in divers manners spoke in times past to the fathers by the prophets, last of all in these days has spoken to us by his Son . . .” What he taught is the “Word of God.”

How was the Word of God to be communicated to mankind unaltered and unchanged? We find the answer by examining in the New Testament what Christ and His Apostles said and did. And we must not forget for a moment, as we read the record of what Christ said and did, that THIS IS GOD MAKING THE CHURCH WHAT HE INTENDED IT TO BE.

TEACHERS

Early in His public life, Christ chose from the rank and file of His followers certain ones who were called His Apostles and His clear-cut intention was that they would form a teaching body- “ . . . he called to,him men of his own choosing and they came to him. And he appointed twelve that they might be with him and that he might send them forth to preach” (Mark 3:1314). Then he began to reveal to them the Word of God which he taught to the public in parables—“He spoke the Word to them (the people) according as they were able to understand it; but without parables he did not speak to them. But privately he explained all these things to his disciples” (Mark4:34).

This special training of His Apostles is plainly the preparation of a body of teachers. The instructions which He gave when He first sent them to preach the Word of God to the people of Israel (Matt. 10: 5–32 ) made His purpose incontestably clear and He could not have been more explicit than during His last days on earth when He said to the eleven Apostles collectively: “ . . . all power in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Go, therefore, and make disciples of all nations . . . teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you, and behold, I am with you all days, even unto the consummation of the world” (Matt. 28:19–20).

TO LAST FOREVER

He looked far into the future. The teaching body in the Church which He said He Himself was building (Matt. 16:18) was to endure until the end of the world. Only after the Word of God had been preached in the whole world, to all peoples, will the consummation of the world take place (Matt. 24:14).

This teaching body would never fail “Behold, I am with you all days.” When we find the Scriptures stating that “God is with anyone,” it always means the special assistance of God is assured in the accomplishment of the purpose for which it is given. In this case, it was the commission to teach the Word of God to all men unto the end of the world. The assistance, then, corresponding to this commission would be such as would necessarily preserve the body of teachers from error in teaching the Word of God. Thus there could never be any question of them adding to the teaching of the Word of God at any time. No, never! He would be with them all days, not intermittently- at this time or at that- but continually. Moreover, He promised them the protection and assistance of an “Advocate,” the Holy Spirit, Who would dwell with them forever, “the Spirit of truth” ( John 14:17).

Thus after Christ left the earth, when we see this teaching body at work in the Acts of the Apostles, we find that “(they) spoke the Word of God with boldness” (Acts 4:31). They called upon the assistance of Christ in filling the place among the twelve vacated by Judas (Acts 1:25). They were conscious of the guidance of the Holy Spirit, the Advocate, in their decisions when they used such language as: “For the Holy Spirit and we have decided . . .” (Acts 15:28). But it is in the activity and teaching of the Apostle Paul that we learn how the apostolic body of teachers was to be perpetuated and how the Word of God was to be transmitted to generations yet unborn.

PREACHING AUTHORITY

Especially pointed are Paul’s recommendations to Timothy, one of his converts, who became his fellow missionary and who was later put in charge of the Church in Ephesus. Paul himself was conscious of the way in which Christ, the teacher of the Word of God, had identified Himself with His Apostles as a teaching body “He who hears you, hears me and he who rejects you, rejects me . . .” (Luke 10:16). So Paul spoke of God manifesting His Word “through the preaching committed to my trust by the command of God our Savior” (Titus 1:3).

To Timothy (II Tim.) Paul wrote: “Preach the word, be urgent in season, out of season . . . (4:2), hold to the form of sound teaching which thou hast heard from me . . . (1:13). Take in what I tell thee for the Lord will give thee understanding in all things . . . (2:7), be strengthened in the grace which is in Christ Jesus; and the things that thou hast heard from me through many witnesses commend to trustworthy men who shall be competent in turn to teach others . . . (2:2), continue in the things that thou hast learned and that have been entrusted to thee, knowing of whom thou hast learned them, for from thy infancy, thou hast known the Sacred Writings which are able to instruct thee unto salvation by the faith which is in Christ Jesus. All Scripture is inspired by God and useful for teaching; for reproving, for correcting, for instructing in justice; that the man of God may be perfect, equipped for every good work. I charge thee in the sight of God and Christ Jesus . . . PREACH THE WORD . . .”(3:14- 17; 4:1–2).

PERPETUATION

Here we find an Apostle charging his successor to preach the Word of God even as the Apostles had been charged by Christ to do so. The word of the body of teachers—the Apostles—which Christ had formed in His Church was to be carried on by their successors whom they left in all places where they founded and organized Christ’s Church. Moreover, Timothy, the immediate successor of St. Paul (II Tim. 1:6) was to choose other “trustworthy men who shall be competent in turn to teach others.” Thus was the body of teachers originating with Christ and His Apostles to be perpetuated until the end of the world.

What was Timothy charged to preach and to commend to other trustworthy men as teachers? The Word- the Word of God which he had heard from Paul during the previous years of companionship and which he read in Paul’s letters. Here we have the two sources of the Word of God from which the successors of the Apostles could learn the Word of God- the teaching of the Word of God by chosen and competent men and the inspired Scriptures which contain the Word of God. But the sole method of propagating the Word of God which Christ and His Apostles commanded was preaching and teaching. “Preach the Word!”

NOT BIBLE ALONE

This should be made clear because it is an important point on which many have gone wrong, falsely persuaded by the unproved but often repeated statement that the sole source in which the Word of God is found is the Bible, and that Christ intended future generations to receive the Word of God solely by reading the Bible.

We have seen the method chosen by Christ to publish the Word of God unto all generations. It was by the preaching and teaching of a body of men, chosen, prepared, commissioned, and especially assisted and protected for that divine purpose. Nowhere did Christ charge men to read the Scriptures as the sole source of the Word of God which He taught and which He directed His Apostles to teach.

It pleased God, however, for the confirmation of faith in the Word of God to inspire some who from the beginning were eye-witnesses, or companions of those who were, to make a written record of the chief events and teachings of the Church’s Founder; and also to preserve certain inspired letters which, at various times, the Apostles wrote to their converts and brethren. It is important to remember that these writings were addressed to those who had already been taught the Word of God. They were not written “as to those who do not know the truth, but as to those who know it . . .” (I John 2:21). No New Testament writer wrote for the purpose of making disciples, but for the profit of those who were already believers. The charge to make disciples of all nations was carried out then as it is now-by the voice of the teaching Church.

“SEARCH THE SCRIPTURES”

Basing their views on a mistranslation of the genuine Biblical text, some contend that Jesus commanded the reading of the Scriptures when He said (John 5:39) “Search the Scriptures . . .” But this is not a command. The correct version is a simple declaration. “You search the Scriptures because in them you think you have life everlasting. And it is they that bear witness to me, yet you are not willing to come to me that you may have life.” Many modern Protestant versions have made this correction.

In the passage cited, Jesus was not exhorting the Jews to read the Scriptures—the Old Testament. He was rebuking them for erroneously thinking that by consuming their time in poring over the Scriptures, they had eternal life. They were more concerned with the mere reading than with what they read, and they failed to understand the prophecies which pointed to Him Who could give them everlasting life. This does not mean that our Lord spoke disparagingly of Bible reading- far from it! He read the Old Testament Himself and quoted from it in His discourses.

Paul, likewise, commended Timothy for his familiarity with the Scriptures. This, of course, meant the Old Testament, as probably very little of the New Testament had been written when Timothy was a child. And Paul took occasion to point out the usefulness of all the inspired Scriptures to the teacher of the Word of God, who must instruct, reprove and correct others. By no reasonable stretch of the imagination, however, can his counsel to Timothy concerning the usefulness of Sacred Scripture be rightly considered a command which would make Bible reading obligatory for all His followers as the sole means of learning the Word of God.

Not only in his dealings with Timothy but also in his dealings with the churches which he founded, Paul made it perfectly clear whence they were to learn the Word of God. Writing to his converts in Thessalonica, he told them plainly: “ . . . stand firm, and hold the teachings that you have learned, whether by word or letter of ours” (II Thess. 2:15). He refers to the teachings which he had received from Christ Himself, “for I have received from the Lord what I also delivered to you” (I Cor. 11:23). They learned the Word of God from what he taught them orally and in writing. Here again, we have the two mutually complimentary sources of the Word of God from which the successors and disciples of the Apostles were to draw the Word of God.

“It is clear,” wrote St. John Chrysostom, “that all was not transmitted to use by writing. Many things worthy of belief have come to us without having been written. That is why we hold the teachings of the Church equally worthy of belief” (P. G. 62, 488). This is why today Catholics go with confidence to the teaching body of their Church, linked as it is in historical continuity with the body of teachers who succeeded the Apostles, and from whom they received the Word of God as it was taught to the Thessalonians by word and by letter.

In view of the promised assistance of Christ and His Holy Spirit, we Catholics know that the teaching body of the Catholic Church cannot add to the Word of God. This would be the “adulteration of the Word of God” condemned by St. Paul (II Cor. 2:17). It would be an adulteration by way of adding human teachings to the deposit of revealed truth which was closed with the death of the last Apostle. “O Timothy, guard the deposit! Avoid the vain and fruitless discussions and disputations of knowledge falsely so styled” (I Tim. 6:20).

PETER, THE POPE, AND INFALLIBILITY

Where in the Bible does it say that either Peter or a Pope is infallible?

This question is double-barreled since it concerns the Apostle Peter and his successors called “The Pope”- any

Pope.

So it is asked—where in the Bible does it say that Peter was infallible? And the answer is: nowhere in the Bible does it say that Peter was infallible. Likewise, nowhere in the Bible does it say that God is infallible. The Bible simply doesn’t use the word “infallible.”

Are we, therefore, to conclude that God is not infallible? Not at all! When we examine all that the Bible tells us about the perfection of God, we must admit that He is infallible, as becomes God, in the very fullest sense that the word “infallible” can bear. And when we examine all that the New Testament tells us about the spiritual authority and power which our Lord bestowed upon Peter in relation to the other Apostles and His whole Church, we must also admit that Peter was infallible in a restricted sense, as becomes a mere man.

Let us examine some of the things which the New Testament tells us about Peter.

Peter was one of the twelve disciples who, as we have previously seen, were especially chosen by Christ (John 6:71) and prepared to be His Apostles to teach the Word of God to all mankind (Matt. 28:19–20). All power is given to me, said Christ, go therefore teach all nations. Our Lord could not have used dearer language in imparting to them collectively- as a body of teachers—the power and authority to teach all that He had commanded them. Christ’s language was equally clear and unambiguous when, after stating that the Church was an authoritative tribunal which all were obliged to hear (Matt. 18:15- 18), He said: “ . . . whatever you shall bind on earth shall be bound also in heaven; and whatever you loose on earth shall be loosed also in heaven.” Here He was speaking to the Twelve collectively-as a body-and although these words indicated a power to rule rather than a power to teach, attention is called to them here to emphasize the fact that Christ intended to confer authority and power on them all, and actually did so.

But Christ also intended the Twelve to have a leader. There was one who was to be chief among them. When a dispute arose concerning which of them was reputed to be the greatest (Luke 22:24–34), Christ took the occasion to teach them a lesson: “Let him who is greatest among you become as the youngest, and him who is the chief, as the servant.” He who is chief among them should put his authority at the service of the others. He did not say they were equal, but He did go on to say that they were all judges in His kingdom- the Church.

Who was chief among them? It is significant that He turned at once to Peter and told him that all (collectively) would be subjected to a severe trial and went on to say: “But I have prayed for thee, that thy faith may not fail; and do thou, when once thou hast turned again, strengthen thy brethren.” His express purpose in praying especially for Peter as an individual was that he would not lose faith in Him as the Messias and that after his repentance for denying that he even knew Him, (a falsehood in a moment of fear and weakness), he should strengthen the faith of the others. The permanence of the faith is the security of the Church; but the permanence of the faith is especially identified with Peter. Thus Christ chose to use Peter to strengthen the faith of the others after He had left them.

Was Peter given a position of chief and leader among the Twelve? What does the record say? He received all the authority and spiritual power which all the Apostles collectively received, but he received more. He, singly and individually, received an office of headship and leadership that was super-added to the powers given to the Apostles as a group.

Here is a quick review of Christ’s dealings with Peter as an individual.

We have already mentioned the fact that Christ made him the confirmer of his brethren’s faith. There was also the occasion when Peter first confessed his faith: “Thou art Christ, the Son of the living God” ( Matt. 16: 13–19 ) and Jesus changed his name from Simon to “Rock”- Peter, and said to him: “ . . . upon this rock I will build my Church, and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it. And I will give thee the keys of the kingdom of heaven; and whatever thou shalt bind on earth shall be bound also in heaven, etc.” It was God Who spoke and they were not idle and ineffective words. Who will dare to limit the bounds of the power here conceded? It should be noted that to Peter alone was it said that he would stabilize the Church which Christ would build so that it would not fall before the powers of evil . . . to him alone would be given the keys of the kingdom of heaven—a symbol of power and authority in the Church. Here is a grant of power to bind and to loose that afterwards was extended to the other Apostles also. But that God chose to make it to Peter first means something. To Peter singly was given in promise what was subsequently bestowed upon the rest collectively and with him.

Power and authority given to an individual to be exercised by him individually is distinct from authority and power given to a group to be exercised collectively. Authority exercised by an individual is more independent than that of a group due to their dependence upon common action. Peter received the authority that all the Apostles received and something added in relation to them- leadership. He alone was to be Peter- the Rock- he alone was to be the key bearer. He alone was to be the chief in the body of teachers which Christ authorized to bring the Word of God to all men.

But this was only a promise made by Christ to Peter. The fulfillment of the promise took place when Christ had risen from the dead; the work of the Redemption was accomplished; the Ascension was at hand; and all things were ready for the action of the Church to commence. In the presence of the other Apostles, He singled out Peter, saying: “Simon . . . dost thou love me more than these do?” Three times Christ asked Peter: “Lovest thou me?” . . . and three times the Lord charged Peter: “Feed my lambs . . . feed my sheep” (John 21:15–17).

Thus the Savior made one man- Peter- the shepherd of His flock. The Lord had previously declared: “I am the Good Shepherd . . . and other sheep I have that are not of this fold. Them also I must bring . . . and there shall be one fold and one shepherd” (John 10: 10–17).

It is impossible to conceive language which would express more positively a delegation of authority over the universal fold of God. No limitation is hinted at. The entire flock is committed to Peter’s care.

The Apostles understood the significance of the Lord’s words when He spoke of His Church as His flock, because we find them referring to the Church as the “flock of God” (I Peter 5:2). St. Paul, addressing the presbyters of Ephesus, said: “Take heed to yourselves and to the whole flock in which the Holy Spirit has placed you as bishops, to rule the Church of God . . .” (Acts 20:28).

Referring to His flock as “my” sheep and “my” lambs, Christ appointed Peter to feed and tend them in His place . . . to be a vice-shepherd . . . to be Christ’s vicar over His flock on earth.

So if we consider all Christ’s dealings with Peter as an individual and ask who is the chief and leader, it all amounts up to Peter’s supreme authority. He alone is the Rock, the key bearer, the confirmer of his brethren, the shepherd of Christ’s whole flock. All these figures of speech used in Christ’s words to Peter express supreme authority in relation to the other Apostles and the whole Church. Comparing carefully the conferring of authority on Peter and on all the Apostles, it is striking that they received nothing without him and he alone received an authority including and exceeding theirs.

As the teaching body was charged to make known God’s Word to all men to the end of the world- a permanent mission, this would be done by the Apostles and their successors (bishops) with Peter and his successors (Popes) in their midst as the Rock, the key bearer, the confirmer of his brethren, and the supreme pastor of Christ’s whole flock—the Church. This is why there has always been the Episcopacy (bishops) and the Papacy (Popes) in the Catholic Church. There always has been and always will be- a hierarchy.

Christ had said to His Apostles: “He who hears you, hears me.” He had thus identified their voice with His. Should not their voice be free from error as was His own? So to the body of teachers with Peter at their head, Christ made two important promises—promises which He as God could certainly fulfill. First, He promised that He Himself would be with them forever until the end of the world. It has been explained elsewhere in this pamphlet that this special promise meant special assistance in the achievement of the mission which He had given all the Apostles collectively as teachers of the World of God, but also to Peter singly at their head, as the confirmer of his brethren and the shepherd of the whole flock. This could only mean special assistance for Peter in his special office.

The second promise was the assistance of the Holy Spirit. It was at His last supper with His Apostles on the night before He died ( John 14:16, 17,26). They were troubled when He told them that He must leave them. And He said: “I will ask the Father and He will send you another Advocate to dwell with you forever, the Spirit of Truth . . . He will dwell with you and be in you.” Another Advocate means that until then, He had been their helper, comforter, guide and protector. Another Advocate will watch over their interests, help their cause and take care of their needs. It is clear that Jesus considered His Apostles as a body of men which would go on until the end of time. They would be perpetuated by a succession that would never be broken. He declared that the Holy Spirit would be with them forever.

The Advocate, He declared, is the “Spirit of Truth,” because He would teach the Church the infallible truth forever.

“The Advocate, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, he will teach all things and bring to your mind whatever I have said to you.”

This is an important promise. The assistance of the Holy Spirit would consist primarily in bringing to their minds what Jesus had taught them. This assistance of another Advocate would be effective as long as Jesus, their Advocate, would be no longer with them in the flesh (John 16:12)- a horizon that extended far beyond their lifetime. He would cause them to know whatever Jesus had told them and to understand progressively the deposit of truth (John 16:13) which Jesus had revealed. It is on this assistance that the body of teachers in the Catholic Church has always leaned in its teaching mission down through the years.

So Christ’s promise gave assurance that when He left the world, divine guidance was not taken from those who would carry on the work of preaching the Word of God to all nations. “The Spirit of Truth will teach you all the truth” (John 16:13). There was no danger that any of the Word of God would be lost, forgotten or adulterated. The Spirit of Truth would see to that.

These promises made to the teaching body of the Church- the Apostles and their successors—are nothing more than a promise of divine guidance when they would announce to men what God has spoken to us by His Son, Jesus Christ (Heb. 1:1). This is what the Catholic Church means by the word “infallibility.” Nothing more, nothing less.

Like each of the other Apostles, Peter heard these promises of Christ assuring him that he would have divine guidance in carrying out the common work Christ had given them to do. But Peter also heard these promises of divine assistance and guidance as the holder of a special office in which Christ had placed him- as the Rock, the key bearer, the confirmer of his brethren and as pastor of the whole flock of Christ. If any of the Apostles was infallible, certainly Peter was, as the confirmer of his brethren and the preserver of the faith of Christ’s Church.

If the Apostles were troubled at the prospect of carrying on the mission Christ gave them and needed the assurance of divine guidance and assistance in making disciples of all nations, what about their successors? Such guidance and assistance was even more necessary after the death of the Twelve who had received the Word of God from Christ’s own lips. There can be no doubt but that Peter’s office was intended to continue after him. If not, why was it instituted at all? That is an important question; and it is followed by another equally as important. What about the successor of St. Peter in the teaching body of the Church?

Christ had promised the assistance and guidance of the Holy Spirit, not in a general, vague sort of way. The promise was given to a definite body of teachers each with a definite job to do. Peter’s successor fell heir to Peter’s job which carried with it the assurance of divine guidance and assistance such as had been promised to Peter. This is what is meant by infallibility of the Pope. When Christ promised divine guidance and assistance to Peter and his successors in teaching the Word of God, He promised infallibility to the Pope.

“Pope” is the name by which the successor of St. Peter is designated in order to distinguish him from other bishops who are the successors of the other Apostles. The word “Pope” is not in the Bible and it does not need to be. The important thing is that Peter and Christ’s promise to Peter and his, successors are there- no matter what words we may use to designate them today.

Put yourself back in the year 70 A.D. Peter is dead, and another man named Linus has taken his place and is carrying on what Peter had been charged to do. Would you not expect him to teach you the Word of God as this had been delivered to the Apostles? The words of St. Paul: “Guard the deposit” are ringing in his ears.

Christ had made no promise of divine inspiration for writing to His Apostles or their successors, so you would have no right to expect divinely inspired epistles from him, even if he wanted to write a few. Infallibility is not inspiration.

He did not receive the Word of God directly and immediately from Christ Himself as did the Apostles, so he will have no new revelations from God for you. Infallibility is not revelation. But he can faithfully deliver and explain to you the truth Christ revealed and which the Apostles passed on to their successors. Remembering the promises of Christ, you would have a right to expect that he would have the assistance and guidance of God in teaching you the Word of God without error.

You would have no right to expect him to be sinless or in any way incapable of sin. Christ made no such promise to His Apostles or their successors. In fact, He foresaw the scandals that were to come, even those in high places. Infallibility is not sinlessness.

Nor would you have any right to expect him to be incapable of mistakes and errors in his private life or even in the routine administration of the affairs of the Church. The protection from error promised by Christ was limited to the teaching of revealed truth.

You would have no right to expect him to utter an infallible answer to every religious question you might put to him. The divinely promised protection from error was meant to enable him in his official capacity as the pastor of the whole flock to teach the whole Church.

When Christ looked into the future and promised to be with the teaching body of the Church, He looked further than the teachers and their teaching. He saw the people who were obliged to believe the teaching of the Apostles and their successors. The Faith of the Church, the whole Church, needed to be protected from error, so He promised freedom from error to the body of teachers in order to insure freedom from error to the Faith of the people. Infallibility is for the people and this is why, as they say, “Catholic people are so sure of themselves.”

SEVEN SACRAMENTS NO MORE . . . NO LESS

Three of the ten questions which we are considering deal with what are called “Sacraments.” These questions and their answers can easily be combined.

Where in the Bible are seven Sacraments mentioned, and in particular the “Mass” or the confession of sins to a priest?

Before examining the passages in which the Bible mentions these things, it is well to point out that the answers to previous questions should make it clear that even though there were no indication of seven Sacraments in the Bible, this would be no reason to conclude that there are less than seven or none at all.

The Sacraments were possessed by the Church and in daily use long before a single line of the New Testament was written. The Christians for whom the New Testament was composed knew about them from the Apostles and their successors. The accounts of our Lord’s last supper with His Apostles, given in the Gospels and in St. Paul’s First Epistle to the Corinthians, are rather an allusion to a thing well known than a description of it. At the time St. Paul wrote, the priesthood and the Eucharist had been in daily operation for twenty-five or thirty years, and every Christian knew by the evidences of his senses the full details of both. Nothing could be further from the truth than to suppose that the early Christians, or Christians at any date, were intended to obtain their knowledge of the priesthood and the Eucharist merely or mainly from the Scriptures. In the New Testament, when this was first written, they and the other Sacraments were institutions on which the Church was founded. People were being received into the Church by Baptism, were receiving the Holy Spirit through the imposition of hands in Confirmation, were having their sins forgiven, were being married according to Christ’s teaching, and were praying over and anointing the dangerously sick.

The number of the Sacraments is sufficiently established, when we find seven Sacraments in the Word of God as this has been consistently preached and practiced down through the years by the Church, drawing its teaching from what the Apostles taught by word and by letter.

How do we know the number of the various inspired books which make up the Bible, and what they are? Nowhere in the Bible is a list and the exact number given. Divine inspiration of the human author of a book is an act of God and He alone can know the authors whom He has inspired. The inspired character of one or many books could be made known only by God revealing. And we know the exact number of the inspired books and what they are because this was made known to us by the Church teaching this truth as contained in the Word of God. This is equally true of the number of Sacraments which Christ left in His Church.

Yes, the Scriptures mention the Sacraments, but in so doing, the word “sacrament” is not used. The thing is there but not the name. What we call “Sacraments” others sometimes prefer to call “ordinances.” The word “Sacrament” which Catholics in the Western World have used to distinguish clearly between rites that are and those that are not Sacraments is derived from the Latin word “sacramentum,” which, in its religious usage, meant the same as “mystery”- something sacred, hidden and secret. Among Greek Catholics, Sacraments have always been called mysteries.

The name “Sacrament” is given to a combination of words and actions performed by certain ministers whom Christ uses to produce certain effects in the world today- mainly sanctity. Thus, in the Sacrament of Baptism, the audible words (I baptize thee in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit) and the visible action (washing), employing a visible and tangible thing (water), are used by Christ through the person baptizing to produce a spiritual and invisible effect ( a gift of grace- the removal of sin- sanctity) in the baptized. It produces the desired effect because it was ordered by Christ and is used by Him. This is a rite- an established ceremony—which makes us holy and simultaneously signifies the special effects which each of the Sacraments was meant to produce. The institution of Sacraments was Christ’s way of getting in touch personally with each individual in the “all nations” to whom He sent His Apostles with the words: “Go, therefore, and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit” (Matt. 28:19).

The Bible does not use our language and say “Christ instituted this Sacrament or that Sacrament,” and it doesn’t have to. All we need find in the Bible is the explicit or implicit statement that a rite used by Christ or by His Apostles gives the Holy Spirit and His gifts, that it effects and develops the Christian life which Christ came on earth to bring, and we have the divine institution of that rite. It belongs to God alone to produce grace through a rite and Christ alone, as the sole mediator between God and men, could have made known that fact.

BAPTISM

Baptism, of course, is mentioned in the Bible over and over again. St. Paul speaks of the use Christ makes of it and the effect produced when he wrote to the Ephesians: “ . . . Christ loved the Church, and delivered Himself up for her, that he might sanctify her, cleansing her in the bath of water (also Titus 3:5) by means of the word . . .” (5:25–26). Here we find a visible thing composed of a double element- the water used to cleanse, and the word: in the name of the Father and of the Son, etc., used by Christ to sanctify the members of His Church.

That Christ intended to produce this effect through the medium of others whom He associated with Himself is evident from the words of the Apostle John: “Jesus made and baptized more disciples than John (the Baptist)- although Jesus Himself did not baptize, but His disciples . . .” (John 4:1).

It is through the Sacrament of Baptism that Christ makes people Christians by giving them a new Christian life: “Unless a man be born again of water and the Holy Spirit, he cannot enter into the kingdom of God” (John 3:5).

THE EUCHARIST

Almost as frequently as Baptism, the Eucharist appears in the New Testament as a rite to which Christ gave the standing and the significance of a Sacrament. Practically the whole sixth chapter of St. John’s Gospel is devoted to our Lord’s promise of the Eucharist. “I am the Bread of Life. He who comes to me shall not hunger and he who believes in me shall never thirst . . . unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink His blood, you shall not have life in you . . . For my flesh is food indeed, and my blood is drink indeed. He who eats my flesh and drinks my blood, abides in me and I in him.”

Here is how St. Paul records the fulfillment of that promise: “ . . . the Lord Jesus on the night in which he was betrayed, took bread, and giving thanks, broke, and said, ‘This is my body which shall be given up for you; do this in remembrance of me.’ In like manner, also, the cup, after he had supped, saying, ‘This cup is the new covenant in my blood; do this as often as you drink it, in remembrance of me. For as often as you shall eat this bread and drink the cup, you proclaim the death of the Lord until he comes’ “ (I Cor. 11:23–26).

There are two important features of what Christ did and said that need to be underlined. First, He stated the significance of the bread and wine, which He changed into His Body and Blood and which He gave them to eat and drink. He spoke of them as food and, when consumed, they were nourishment. By His Body and Blood, under the appearance of bread and wine, He gave them spiritual nourishment for the Christian life which had been implanted in them at Baptism. Moreover, in this way, He and each of the Apostles present were intimately united in a spiritual manner. The visible appearance of bread and of wine signified the invisible effects which Christ produced- the strengthening of the Christian life that He had likened to the life drawn by the branches from the vine (John 15).

What He had done, He charged and empowered them to do likewise. This is a Sacrament.

Secondly, in doing what He had done, He assured them “You will proclaim the death of the Lord.” The body they received under the appearance of bread, apparently separated from His blood, was to be offered up for them. The blood which they received under the appearance of wine, apparently separated from His body, was His blood of the new covenant. The blood of animals shed in sacrifice sealed the old covenant- the blood of Christ in His sacrifice on the Cross sealed the new covenant of God with His people. Thus at the Last Supper, He represented the bloody sacrifice which showed forth His death which He offered to His Heavenly Father in satisfaction for the sins of mankind.

What He had done- He charged and empowered them to do. This is a Sacrifice.

The partaking of the Eucharistic Bread and Wine is called “Communion” in the Catholic Church today. And the sacrificial offering of the Eucharistic Bread and Wine from the preparatory to the concluding prayers, we call “The Mass.”

CONFIRMATION

The Acts of the Apostles give abundant evidence that the rite of imposing hands was considered by the Apostles not only to signify but also to effect the descent of the Holy Spirit on those who had been baptized (Acts 8:14–18; also 19:5–6), but this imposition of hands must be performed by those who have received the plentitude of the Spirit- the Apostles (Acts 8:12–16).

We have here all the elements of what Catholics call a “Sacrament”-Confirmation. The significant ceremony of the imposition of hands by which it is intended to communicate to another some favor, quality or excellence, usually of a spiritual kind, is extremely ancient and was practiced in Old Testament times (Gen. 48:14 Num. 27:8–23). Christ likewise used this ceremony on several occasions. When they imposed hands on the newly baptized, however, the Apostles used it with a new and distinct significance-the communication of the Holy Spirit, His grace and gifts. This meant the development of the Christian life in the baptized and a strengthening which, as confirmed Christians, they needed in living and publicly confessing their Faith.

ORDINATION

But the imposition of hands was also used by the Apostles for another and different purpose. They deputed their office to their successors by imposing hands upon them. We find that the significance of the imposition of hands in this rite, which we call the Sacrament of Order, is the Holy Spirit conferring an office and the grace to exercise it well. This can be easily verified in St. Paul’s words to Timothy: “ . . . stir up the grace of God which is in thee by the laying on of my hands” (II Tim. 1:6; also Acts 6:6). Since Timothy was Paul’s successor as Bishop of the Church in Ephesus, these words make it clear that it is the Christian rite for the ordination of the successors of the Apostles. Likewise, it was to be the rite whereby they should ordain their successors, (I Tim. 5:22). The altogether distinct and special purpose of this imposition of hands makes it a distinct Sacrament.

MATRIMONY

The ceremony of Christian marriage is not mentioned in the Bible- probably because it consists simply and essentially in the exchange of marriage vows between a Christian man and woman. But the New Testament mentions Christian marriage and the Catholic Church teaches that it is a Sacrament.

When we examine the teaching of Jesus Christ on marriage, it is clear that it was His intention to elevate it from the sad state into which it had fallen in the world at large and among the Jews. He insisted that it is a union between one man and one woman and that this union is indissoluble. He plainly considered marriage to be sacred, since it is God Who joins the married couple. St. Paul adds that it is sacred for a most sublime reason.

The principle point which St. Paul stressed in writing to the Ephesians (5:21–33) is that, since the coming and death of Christ, Christian marriage is something different than marriage was before. The union of husband and wife is now similar to and should be modeled after the union between Christ and His Church. The union of husband and wife is that of one man and one woman until death and is holy with the holiness of the union between Christ and His Church.

To a quotation from Genesis: “The man shall leave his father and mother, and shall cleave to his wife, and they two shall be one flesh,” St. Paul adds the following reflection: “This is a great mystery; I mean in reference to Christ and the Church.” He does not state that the rite of Christian marriage is a Sacrament, but he indicates that the union of husband and wife is not only similar to the union between Christ and His Church but that the marriage union is a title to the assistance of the grace of Christ and the Holy Spirit to make it holy.

According to St. Paul, Christian marriage has a significant character. It signifies the union between Christ and His Church. The fact that this union of Christ and His Church is the model of Christian marriages means that they should be patterned after it and marriage, thus understood and practiced by Christians, will therefore exemplify the union of Christ and His Church. This is the Scriptural basis for the teaching of the Catholic Church that Christian marriage is a Sacrament.

LAST ANOINTING

Much more explicit is the New Testament when we consider the Sacrament of Extreme Unction, or the Last Anointing. In the Epistle of the Apostle James (5:14–15), we find a brief description of this Sacrament. “Is anyone among you sick?,” he wrote. “Let him bring in the presbyters of the Church and let them pray over him, anointing him with oil in the name of the Lord. And the prayer of faith will save the sick man and the Lord will raise him up, and if he be in sins, they shall be forgiven him.”

St. James is writing to Christians and telling them what to do. When one of them is dangerously ill, he should call in those who could perform the desired rite- the presbyters of the Church. The New Testament uses this name for certain leaders of the first Christian communities who were superior to laymen and deacons but inferior to the Apostles and their principal successors who established these communities. These are the same “presbyters of the Church” whom the Holy Spirit has placed in the whole flock “as bishops to the Church of God” (Acts 20:17–28).

What the presbyters of the Church are to do is then indicated and it is something established and official. They will pray over him- supplicate God in his behalf- and at the same time anoint him with oil- a strengthening and comforting action. All this is done in the name of the Lord. Their acting in the name of Christ means that they act in a religious manner and are not applying merely a natural remedy of some kind; and it means, also, that they are acting as ministers delegated to act in the name of Christ Himself.

The effects of the rite are both physical and spiritual, and they both concern the sick man’s salvation. The prayer of faith in behalf of the anointed person will bring salvation whether this involves the restoration of his health or not. If it pleases God to do so, He will raise him up. Certainly a restoration of health should be prayed for. But what is more important, if he be in sins, they shall be forgiven. We find in this passage an established Christian rite and a spiritual effect produced when it is used by the Church.

CONFESSION

It is not out of place to point out that in connection with the Sacrament of Penance in which sins committed after Baptism are forgiven and the confession of sins to a priest, mentioned in one of our questions, St. James concluded his description of the rite of anointing the sick with this exhortation: “Confess, therefore, your sins to one another and pray for one another that you may be saved.” Does the Bible, therefore, say we should confess our sins only to God? These are interesting words, which should be carefully considered by anyone who is concerned about where the confession of sins to a priest is mentioned in the Bible. There are Scripture scholars who find in these words the confession of sins to a presbyter of the Church or what Catholics call a priest.”

This much is certain, St. James speaks expressly of the confession of sins. No matter to whom the sins are to be confessed,- the confession of sins itself is necessary. But to whom? “One another” are his words. What do these words mean?

Further on in the same Epistle (5:9), exhorting Christians to be patient, St. James uses these words: “Do not complain against one another.” Does this not mean: those who have reason to complain should not complain against those who give cause for complaint?

St. Paul used similar language in writing to the Ephesians (5:21): “Be subject to one another.” Did he not mean subjects obey those in authority over you—wives obey your husbands—children your parents—slaves your masters? He certainly did not mean to be subject to anybody or everybody.

When St. Paul says to the Colossians (3:13) that they should “teach one another,” does he not mean that those who are in a position to teach should teach those who need to be taught?

No, “to one another” does not always mean anyone or everyone. The sense depends upon what is done to one another.

Consider, therefore, what St. James said: “Confess your sins to one another.” Could he not have meant: “Confess your sins to those who are delegated to forgive sins—the presbyters of the Church?” At any rate, that brings up the question: Did Christ delegate His Apostles and their successors to forgive sins, and was this a Sacrament?

PENANCE

If Christ did not depute His Apostles to forgive sins, then His words to them (John 20:19–23) after His Resurrection are unintelligible. Standing in the midst of them, He said: “As the Father hath sent me, I also send you.” When He had said this, He breathed upon them and said to them, “Receive the Holy Spirit; whose sins you shall forgive, they are forgiven them; and whose sins you shall retain, they are retained.” Not merely did He promise the Holy Spirit, He then and there communicated the Holy Spirit to them and His purpose is clear. They were to forgive and to retain sins.

The forgiving of sins is often mentioned in the Bible and there is no mistaking its meaning: a sinner is delivered, freed from his sin, his guilt no longer exists and he is just before God (Romans 5:5; 8:14, sq.; James 2:23).

Now God alone possesses in His own right the power of forgiving sin which is always in some way an offense against Him. After Jesus had forgiven the sins of a paralytic, it was objected that God alone can forgive sins and He did not deny this but went on to prove by the miracle of the paralytic’s instantaneous and complete cure that “the Son of man on earth has the power to forgive sins” (Luke 5:21 sq.).

It was precisely this divine power which Jesus delegated to His Apostles. It was to render them capable of exercising this power, that He communicated to them the Holy Spirit. It was for this reason that He delegated His mission and His authority to them (John 22:21); and His mission was to deliver men from their sins (Matt. 1:21)- to justify sinners (Matt. 9:13; Luke 5:32).

He told them, also, to retain sins, and this was just as much a part of His command as was the for giving of sins. Moreover, by these words He determined the nature of the act whereby, as His ministers, they were to exercise the power given to them.

Whether they would forgive or retain sins was left to their judgment and this judgment evidently could not be based on chance or caprice. According to their judgment, men would either remain sinners or be freed from sin- they would be guilty or not guilty in the eyes of God. He plainly intended to oblige His Apostles to act prudently and justly, to take into account the degree of the sinner’s guilt and the sincerity of his repentance. In order to fulfill this obligation, if they were to judge justly or prudently whether they should forgive or retain, they needed to know two things—what were the sinner’s sins and was he truly sorry. How could they ascertain these facts except by confession on the part of the sinner?

It cannot be denied, therefore, that in authorizing and obliging the Apostles to forgive and retain sins, our Lord laid a corresponding obligation of confessing their sins on the part of sinners seeking forgiveness. In so doing, He established the rite known in the Catholic Church as the Sacrament of Penance, or as it is commonly called “Confession.” The sinner confesses his sins and professes his sorrow for them, the sincerity of which sorrow is indicated by his determination, with the help of God, to commit these sins no more. The priest- a presbyter of the Church- judges him worthy of forgiveness and in the name of God, forgives him.

Isn’t it possible that when St. James referred to the confession of sins in connection with the anointing of the sick, he may have been referring to the conjunction of two Sacraments?

What we have said about the Sacraments in the Bible is not and was not meant to be an answer to all the questions which can be raised concerning the Seven Sacraments. It has been our sole purpose to show any sincere inquirer that the teaching of the Church that there are seven Sacraments can be supported by the Word of God as it is found in the Bible.

WHERE IS PURGATORY MENTIONED IN THE BIBLE?

The answer to this question does not require a treatise on Purgatory. For a discussion of this subject, we refer the reader to our free pamphlet “WHAT HAPPENS AFTER DEATH?” Perhaps no one point of Catholic belief is so widely misunderstood and misrepresented as this one, and it will pay anyone interested in the facts to procure this pamphlet.

However, before we go looking for Purgatory in the Bible, it is wise to have the right notion of what we are looking for.

The Catholic Church believes, on the authority of God revealing, that there is a state after death which is commonly called Purgatory. This was not always the name used. For many centuries in the early history of the Church, it was called “the darksome way,” “a place of sighs and tears,” “a place of cleansing flames,” “a place of transitory fire and purgatorial punishment.” Finally, in the Thirteenth Century, the name “Purgatory,” which is most appropriate, obtained common and established usage.

Catholics are required to believe only two things about Purgatory. First, we believe that they go to Purgatory who have died free from serious sins and are the friends of God and who have, therefore, saved their souls, but who have not, during life, completely met all the requirements of an all-merciful, an all-just God, Who holds us responsible for all our sins.

We also believe that the prayers of the living, especially those which we offer through Christ in the Sacrifice of the Mass, can move God to be merciful to people in Purgatory.

Now, the question is: do we find this in the Bible? The answer will be found in the 13th Chapter of the Second Book of Machabees in the Old Testament. On the day after his victory over Gorgias, the governor of Idumea, Judas Machabeus, the leader of the Jews, together with his company discovered under the tunics of the Jewish soldiers who were slain in battle, valuables which had been taken as plunder from the temple of idols in Jamnia. This was contrary to the law of the Jews (Deut. 7:26) and Judas and his men considered their death to be a punishment from God.

The inspired author goes on to say: “Then they all blessed the just judgment of the Lord who had discovered the things that were hidden.

“And so betaking themselves to prayers, they besought him, that the sin which had been committed might be forgotten.

“But the most valiant Judas exhorted the people to keep themselves from sin for as much as they saw before their eyes what had happened, because of the sins of those that were slain. And making a gathering, he sent twelve thousand drachmas of silver to Jerusalem for sacrifice to be offered for the sins of the dead, thinking well and religiously concerning the resurrection.

“(For if he had not hoped that they that were slain should rise again, it would have seemed superfluous and vain to pray for the dead). And because he considered that they who had fallen asleep with godliness, had great grace laid up for them.

“It is therefore a holy and wholesome thought to pray for the dead, that they may be loosed from sins.”

Several important points should not go unnoticed in this passage.

After the unlawful plunder was found on the soldiers, their Jewish kinsmen gathered in private prayer for the fallen soldiers that their sin “might be effaced from the mind of God.”

Thereafter a public sacrifice of expiation (Lev. 4:2–35) was offered in the temple in order to satisfy for their sins and to assure the dead soldiers divine absolution from their sins.

These sins had not robbed them of godliness, else it would have been vain to pray with hope in their future resurrection. Yet prayer was offered to the just and merciful God. And it was expedient to offer public sacrifice in satisfaction for their sins even though they had saved their souls.

From all of which the inspired author concluded, no longer speaking of Judas and the dead soldiers in particular, but of the dead in general- no longer speaking of particular sins of transgressing the Law which these soldiers committed, but of any sins-no longer approving of the prayer of Judas and his men only, but recommending it to everyone: “It is a holy and wholesome thought to pray for the dead that they may be loosed from sins.”

It is impossible to understand how the Bible could mention the Catholic belief in Purgatory more clearly than this.

Judas Machabeus did not doubt the future resurrection of the fallen soldiers. But their future resurrection was nonetheless affected by the sins committed in the pillage of Jamnia. They would one day rise again and would enjoy the recompense of those who slept in the Lord or prayer for them would have been in vain. But beforehand they needed to be freed from their sins by public sacrifice in the temple.

It must be admitted that in the thought of the inspired writer, these soldiers were not lost forever. At the same time, due to their sins, they did not enjoy the great grace that was laid up for them. They were dearly in a state in which they needed to be loosed from their sins and in which they could be helped by the prayers of the living. And the Bible recommends the whole idea to everyone.

By this time, the reader may have thumbed through his Bible, only to discover that the Second Book of Machabees and this whole passage is nowhere to be found. He may ask: Why isn’t it there?

That is a good question. It happens to be a question that anyone whose Bible does not contain this Book should not only ask himself, but should also take steps to settle to his own satisfaction. Too many accept without question the well-bound, well-printed volume with the title “Holy Bible” on the cover in gold letters as the real thing. But is it? How do they know? Why don’t they find out?

There have always been those who did not hesitate to tamper with the Scriptures. Passages have been rephrased to fit their preconceived ideas and opinions, words have been inserted and others conveniently omitted-in fact, whole books have been eliminated-for the same purpose.

Catholics have no trouble in answering the question “What is the genuine and complete Bible?” Well aware of the danger after centuries of experience with spurious Bibles, the Church insists that all- clergy and laymen alike- use only those versions of the Bible which have been carefully checked with the oldest and most authentic versions available to Scripture scholars over a period of nineteen centuries.

The question of why various books or portions were removed from the Bible has been discussed in our free pamphlet “BUT DO YOU REALLY UNDERSTAND THE BIBLE?” and will not be considered here. However, in settling the question of why the Second Book of Machabees was removed from the list of inspired books which make up the Bible, two other questions must be faced by every sincere Christian.

Why do you find the Christians of earliest Christian times using this Book as part of God’s inspired word? It is something more ‘than coincidence that in the Epistle to the Hebrews, there seems to be remarkable allusion (11:35–36) to the suffering of Eleazar and the seven brothers (II Mach. 6: 19–28).

In the second century after Christ, the Pastor of Hermas (140–154 A.D.) refers to II Mach. (7:23) in speaking of “God who created the world” (Vision I, 3,4). Later, about 235 A.D., Clement of Alexandria and Cyprian (258 A.D.) speak of the book. Hippolytus of Rome (255 A.D.) used the book in his commentary on the Scripture as also did Origen (352 A.D.).

Thus in all parts of the Church- in the East and in the West- this book was received by the early Christians. And it seems obvious that if this book was part of the Scriptures then, it still is and should be today.

Why was this book removed from the list of inspired books and who excluded it from some Bibles?

The pioneer was Martin Luther. In the disputation of Leipsig, he was pressed by John Eck to declare if he still believed in Purgatory. He responded that “in truth, in all of Scripture, there is not one word on the subject.” When the passage of the Second Book of Machabees was proposed as evidence, he simply rejected the whole thing by rejecting the two Books of Machabees as having been erroneously placed on the list of inspired Scriptures. He did not believe in Purgatory or the value of prayers for the dead, so the Books of Machabees had to go!

ONE MEDIATOR AND INTERCESSOR-CHRIST, THE REDEEMER

Where does the Bible mention praying to Mary or to saints or that Mary is a mediator between God and man? In some people’s minds, the act of prayer is associated exclusively with an act of adoration of God, but it should not be. We may adore God when we pray to Him, but this does not mean that we adore some other human being when we direct an act of prayer to him.

The act of prayer which is referred to in the question we are considering is the simple act of asking a favor of another. We pray when we ask a favor of a friend. Prayer can be addressed to anyone who is in a position to grant the request which the prayer contains.

Not only do we find the early Christians addressing prayers to God, but to other Christians, as well. Consider carefully the following words of St. Paul: “I beseech you, brethren, through our Lord Jesus Christ, and by the charity of the Holy Spirit, that you help me in your prayers to God” (Romans 15:30). In thus addressing a prayer to his fellow Christians, was he offending God or robbing Him of any of the honor which is His due? On the contrary, he was but following out Christian teaching: “ . . . pray for one another, that you may be saved, for the unceasing prayer of a just man is of great avail” (James 5:16).

“We beseech you, Mary, through our Lord Jesus Christ, and by the charity of the Holy Spirit, that you help us in your prayers to God.” By substituting the name “Mary” or any Saint in the place of “my brethren,” in St. Paul’s prayer, you have identically the same prayer which the Catholic Church offers to Mary and the Saints.

This is the practice of prayer identical with that which the Bible shows to have been the practice of the Apostles and early Christians. Can anyone doubt that St. Paul who asked for the prayers of his brethren, would hesitate to include among these brethren Mary, the Mother of Jesus Christ? So the same kind of prayer which we offer to Mary and the Saints is mentioned in the Bible.

“But Mary and the Saints to whom you pray are dead,” it will be objected. “The Bible speaks only of prayers to the living.”

Such a question coming from those who have no idea or hope in a future life makes sense, but not coming from Christians who profess to believe in survival after death and in the reality of the future life. In Mary’s case, she most certainly is not to be classed among the dead. Her Assumption into Heaven means that her body, re-enlivened by her soul, was raised from the grave and she is alive in Heaven together with the blessed saints who will have their bodies restored at the end of the world. They, too, all live.

It is the privilege of the Christian to have the full assurance of a future life and to look upon the life after death as more truly real than the life we at present know. This assurance is founded upon faith, not conjecture or opinion- faith which is no less certain than actual personal experience. We do not lose our friends when they die; we gain them if they die as friends of God. “As I live,” said our Lord, “so shall you live also.” Mary and the saints are in Heaven and Heaven is the abode of the living.

Have Mary and the saints who are with Christ ceased to love us and to be concerned about our affairs? No, we believe in the communion of saints—an oft-forgotten article of our Creed.

“Far be from us,” wrote St. Bernard (On the Death of Mal- achy), “the thought that that love which we have seen so active upon earth should be lessened or destroyed in Heaven . . . the love of those who have gone before us, and passed through the valley of the shadow of death, cannot fail, for love is stronger than death, yet, the breadth of Heaven enlarges men’s hearts, not contracts them; fills them with more love, not empties them of what they had before. In the light of God, the memory is brightened and strengthened, not obscured; what was not known is now learned; not what was known, unlearned; in a word, it is Heaven and not earth,” and Heaven is not a land of separation or of forgetfulness.

There is but one Body of the faithful, whether in Heaven or upon earth, and Jesus Christ is their Head and through Him there is a communion between all the members of His Body. Those who have entered into their rest have not thereby ceased to be our brethren and to love us. Nor have they ceased to love God and to have an interest in all that concerns His honor and glory, and the salvation of men’s souls.

If Mary and the saints are living, can anyone deny that they are in a position to know that we seek their prayers? The enjoyment of the blessed life of Heaven does not deprive them of the power of knowledge, rather it is increased. That there is knowledge in Heaven of what goes on in this world is clear from Christ’s own words: . . . there will be joy among the angels of God over one sinner who repents” (Luke 25:10). God surely can cause Mary and the saints to know what goes on in this world.

That He actually does so is certain from the assurance Christ gave that they are “equal to the angels” (Luke 20:36) and although He was speaking of the blessed in Heaven after the resurrection of the body, Mary does have her body restored and the saints do not need their bodies to be capable of knowledge, any more than do the angels who have no bodies.

Mary and the saints are no longer affected by time and space in the way that we are while on earth. They are not subject to the difficulties and imperfections of communication that we are. Nothing prevents Mary and the saints from knowing our petitions to them as soon as they are formed in our minds and hearts and to present them to God. They know these things in God Whom they see face to face.

Those who find fault with prayer to Mary and the Saints usually do so on the ground that they are thereby exhalted to a position on a par with Christ. But St. Paul, they tell us, says: “There is one God, and one mediator between God and men, himself man, Christ Jesus, who gave himself a ransom for all . . .” (I Tim. 2:5). Christ it is “ . . . who is ever living to make intercession for us” (Heb. 7:25).

But what did he mean when he spoke of Jesus Christ as our Mediator? Did he not refer to the fact that Christ alone was the Redeemer of mankind- that as man He died and offered His death as a redemptive sacrifice? Catholics make no such claim for Mary today- and they never did. It is true that she was associated with the Mediator in His redemptive mission.

In fact, she was associated more closely than were His chosen Apostles. This does not, however, make her a “mediator” in the sense that this term has when it is applied to Jesus Christ, nor do Catholics say that it does.

Likewise, Christ our Redeemer is ever living to make intercession for us. He Who is our Intercessor is also our Redeemer, Who intercedes on the strength of the Sacrifice He alone has made for us. Neither Mary nor any Saint could be our Intercessor in the sense in which Christ is.

But, we ask, because Jesus Christ as our Redeemer is the sole Mediator between God and men, ever living to make intercession for us, does this mean that the terms “mediator” and “intercessor” cannot be used in other senses and applied to others for different reasons? The dictionary justifies the use of the term “mediator”‘ in the sense of one who acts as the intermediary in effecting something, bringing something about, communicating something, and the like.

Many do not seem to realize that St. Paul spoke of Jesus Christ as the one Mediator between God and men and this does not exclude the possibility or even hint at the incongruity of there being intermediaries between Jesus Christ and other men. Indeed, the whole Bible takes such mediation for granted.

Mary, the Mother of Jesus, was the medium through which Jesus Christ came into this world as man: “ . . . God sent his Son, made of a woman” (Gal. 4:4). She, out of her own heart’s blood and from the substance of her body, supplied the wherewithal from which was fashioned the body of Him Whose death on the Cross won our Redemption and reconciliation with God the Father. She willingly consented to become the mother of our Redeemer when this was announced to her (Luke 1:38). Jesus Christ could have come into the world in other ways, but the Divine Plan called for the Savior to have a body which would come into existence through the regular channel of a human mother’s womb. In that sense, we are indebted to Mary. She was the medium, or, if you will, the Mediatrix, through which Christ became one of us. Mary is not the mediator between God and men; Jesus Christ alone is that, but it is a historical fact, which no one can deny, that she was the medium through which He came into this world and became a member of the human race.

We find more than one kind of mediation in the Bible. When John the Baptist pointed out the world’s Savior with the words: “Behold the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world” (John 1:29), he served as the medium which brought the attention of John the Evangelist and Peter to our Lord. The Baptist was the medium through which Jesus Christ became known to those Apostles. The Baptist who spoke the words was the mediator between them and Jesus Christ.

Similarly, when Andrew went in search of Simon Peter to lead him to Jesus, he, Andrew, became the medium which led Peter to the feet of his Redeemer (John 1: 40–42). Jesus could have made Himself known directly to these men, but He chose to work through others as He has chosen to do ever since, down through the centuries. The story of Christ in the Gospels which is read by a man who has never known Christ makes the author of that Gospel a mediator. Matthew, Mark, Luke and John are mediators. Any preacher who proclaims Christ and His message is a mediator, but—let it be repeated over and over again- not between God and men, but between Jesus Christ and men.

Anyone who administers the Sacrament of Baptism and thus becomes the instrument of the baptized party’s regeneration, is a mediator. The one who baptizes is of little consequence in himself, but the rite which Christ prescribed as essential to salvation is of the utmost consequence. It makes little or no difference who administers the rite, whether he be saint or sinner, male or female, believer or infidel; it is obedience to Christ’s direction which counts and He, the one Mediator between God and men, must have imparted some powerful and mysterious efficacy to that simple rite for so much to depend on it. “He who believes and is baptized shall be saved” (Mark 16:16). The one who does the baptizing becomes a mediator according to the dictionary’s definition of the term. Let it be repeated once more, not a mediator between God and men, but between Jesus Christ and men.

Similarly, when Jesus Christ commissioned the Apostles to go teach all nations all that He had commanded, to baptize them and to forgive sins, He was interposing their ministry of preaching, baptizing, and forgiving between Himself and others. The Apostles, then, by the very appointment of Jesus Christ, became intermediaries between Himself and men, that men might come to have faith in Jesus Christ and share in the benefits of His unique mediation before the throne of Him, Who “alone has immortality and dwells in light inaccessible, whom no man has seen or can see, to whom be honor and everlasting dominion” (I Tim. 6:16).

So important, in fact, is this mediation of the Apostles and their successors in the Christian ministry, that St. Paul does not hesitate to declare to Timothy: “Take heed to thyself and to thy teaching, be earnest in them. For in so doing, thou wilt save both thyself and those who hear thee” (I Tim. 4:16). The words which are to be especially noted here are those which say that Timothy saves others who hearken to his preaching of the Word. If he saves others by bringing to them the saving knowledge of Jesus Christ, by that same token he is a mediator of salvation between men and Jesus Christ, and so is any other minister who by delivering the Gospel message or by baptizing brings Jesus Christ to men and men to Jesus Christ.

Another Biblical example of mediation is particularly to the point raised by our questions. In the marriage feast of Cana, (John 2:1–11), the wine ran out in the midst of the festivities. This was painfully embarrassing to the bride and groom. Mary, with consideration for their feelings, called the situation to the attention of her Son. And, although His hour for performing His first miracle had not yet come, He nevertheless, because He could not find it in His heart to refuse her anything, miraculously supplied wine at her request. In this instance, Mary was a mediatrix. Our Lord surely sensed the situation, but He waited until it was called to His attention by Mary.

Because Mary’s prayer was so effective in this case, and induced her Son to anticipate the time when He planned to perform His first miracle, many believe in the power of her prayers. They believe that she is our Mediatrix, not between God and men, but between men and her Son Who is the sole Mediator between God and men. They pray to her, not that she by her own authority or by any personal resources of her own, may give us graces and blessings, but that she may appeal on our behalf to her Divine Son, Who in turn will make intercession for us before Him Who is the source of every good and perfect gift (James 1:17).

MONKS, NUNS, AND FRIDAY ABSTINENCE

Where in the Bible is the authorization for nunneries or monasteries mentioned?

Where in the Bible is the eating of meat on Friday called a sin?

These may appear to be unrelated questions, but they aren’t. Both are concerned with laws and discipline of

Christian life as authorized by the Catholic Church. The laws of the Church as such won’t be found expressly stated in the Bible. But the matters with which these laws deal, and which they apply to Christian life in a practical manner, will be found there.

Consider first the Catholic practice of abstaining from meat on Friday. The Church has applied this law almost everywhere in the world, for a very simple and Scriptural reason. Our Lord was very explicit when He said: “If anyone wishes to come after me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross daily and follow me” (Luke 9:23). In the light of these words, it looks very much like everyone who is worthy to be called a Christian is going to be found practicing self-denial.

Now self-denial does not mean refraining only from that which is wrong, but refraining from that which is in itself good. It is denying oneself things which could be lawfully done and enjoyed. Left to their own devices, how many Christians consistently live up to this evident command of Christ? Very few! The experience of the Catholic Church over the centuries has borne this out. So, in order to insure the practice of at least a minimum of self-denial, the Church has ruled that Catholics the world over deny themselves meat on one day of each week- Friday.

But why Friday? It could be any other day of the week, but Friday happens to be the day on which our Lord performed the supreme act of self-denial. He not only carried His cross, but on it, He gave up His life for us. That fact we must never forget and ever honor. What better day for Christians to practice self-denial . . . to obey His command? So the Church, not the Bible, has specified Friday and who will dare to say this is contrary to the Bible?

There is nothing wrong with good meat anywhere or at any time. So why deny oneself meat? For the obvious reason that meat is a universal food. Can a food be named that is more common to mankind all over the world, than the flesh of animals living on dry land? No doubt, in choosing as the object of universal self-denial, the Church had an eye on what St. Paul said about abstaining from meat being good (Romans 14:21), but bread or fish or eggs might have been chosen. When you come right down to it, what more universal food can be found for the catholic, the universal Church, in which there is to be common and collective self- denial?

IMPORTANCE OF FRIDAY

There are those who do not like the idea of members of the Church the world over adhering to the same practice of self-denial, but they forget the unity Christ expected to prevail among His disciples (John 17:21). Others say that Friday, as a designated day, is not mentioned in the Bible. Of course it isn’t, but as we have said, the Friday on which Christ died is—and we do not wish to forget it.

When anyone cries “regimentation,” referring to the Church’s determination of the day and manner in which we practice the self-denial ordained by Christ Himself, we point to Christ deputing His Apostles and their successors: . . . teach them (their followers among the nations) all things I have commanded” (Matt. 28:19) . . . and when He said: “ . . . whatsoever you shall bind on earth, shall be bound also in Heaven” (Matt 18.18), He could have meant nothing less than the moral binding of conduct through the making of laws.

Now what about monasteries or nunneries? As the dwellings in which monks and nuns live, they are nowhere authorized in the Bible. Neither are Lutheran, Baptist, or Methodist seminaries, parsonages, or rectories. There is no good reason why they should be.

But this question, most probably, inquires if the lives led by Catholic monks and nuns are authorized in the Bible. Nuns and monks, of course, are religious women and men (who may be ordained priests or not) all of whom live a common life approved and regulated by the Church in which they practice Christ’s counsels of poverty, chastity, and obedience. Do we find such a life authorized in the Bible? The answer is easily found.

“COME FOLLOW ME”

There is little need to tarry over Christ’s recommendation of obedience and poverty. There can be no doubt but that both are clearly indicated in His answer to the wealthy man who had kept the Commandments of God from his youth, but who wanted to do more. “If thou wilt be perfect,” He said, go, sell what thou hast and give to the poor . . . and come follow me” (Matt. 19:21). It was not a command, but it most certainly was a counsel that authorized special obedience and detachment from worldly possessions.

It is the celibate life, the chaste unmarried life of monks and nuns, which is the chief concern of those who ask the “monastery and nunnery” question. Why don’t priests and nuns get married?

Unfortunately, there are always those who are anxious to mind the other fellow’s business for him. What is worse, their motives in so doing are often based on rash judgments. Such people need to be told that Catholic priests and nuns choose not to get married. No one is obliged to be a priest or a nun. But since the Church has made the celibate life a required condition for the life of a priest or a nun, they freely choose this kind of a life because they want to be priests or nuns.

CELIBACY

But there are those who sincerely want to know what is behind the required celibacy of priests and nuns. “Is it authorized by the Bible?,” they ask. If by “authorized” is meant commanded by the Bible, the answer is: No. It is merely a law of the Church. But if by “authorized” is meant encouraged and commended by Christ and His Apostles as their teaching is recorded in the Bible, the answer is: Yes.

We find our Lord expressly recommending celibacy chosen for religious motives (Matt. 19:11–12). But He immediately added that such a life of self-denial is not meant for all. Only the few who have a special calling are to undertake such an obligation: “Let him accept it, who can.”

Anyone who asks “Is celibacy authorized by the Bible?” should read thoughtfully the Seventh Chapter of St. Paul’s Epistle to the Corinthians, especially where he says: “For I would that you all were as I am, myself; but each one has his own gift from God, one in this way, and another in that. But I say to the unmarried and to widows, it is good for them if they so remain, even as I” (I Cor. 7:7–8). St. Paul was a celibate and the reason why he recommended celibacy for those who can live such a life is stated subsequently in the same chapter: “I would have you free from care. He who is unmarried is concerned about the things of the Lord, how he may please God. Whereas he who is married is concerned about the things of the world, how he may please his wife; and he is divided. And the unmarried woman, and the virgin thinks about the things of the Lord, that she may be holy in body and in spirit. Whereas she who is married thinks about the things of the world, how she may please her husband. Now this I say for your benefit, not to put a halter upon you, but to promote what is proper and to make it possible for you to pray to the Lord without distraction” (7:32–35).

A GOOD REASON

Not only the recommendation of celibacy but its purpose is plainly evident in St. Paul’s words. The unmarried man is free from the worries, anxieties, responsibilities and claims on his time and attention, which arise from marriage and family life. A married man cannot devote himself wholly to the work of the ministry; he must needs devote himself wholeheartedly to his family as well. Whereas the unmarried man is free to give his whole attention, time, love, and devotion to the service of those entrusted to his care, and he can thus accomplish more for the spread of the Kingdom of God on earth.

So there is plenty of authorization for the celibate life in the New Testament, but it is not made a matter of obligation. It is presented as a closer and more perfect way of serving the Lord and His interests, but it is not commanded. Consequently, for several centuries in the Church, a married clergy and priesthood and episcopate existed, although at the same time, many members of the clergy were celibates. It was not until several centuries had elapsed before the Church began to make celibacy a matter of obligation for those who wished to enter the ministry of the priesthood. One of the earliest laws was made by the Council of Elvira in Spain in the Fourth Century, and thereafter, one Church Council after another ruled in the same way until within a hundred years or so, the law was universal in the Western World. But it has been the practice of the Church in Eastern and far Eastern countries to ordain married men, but after their ordination, unmarried priests were not permitted to marry. Thus the Catholic Church knows what it is to have a married and unmarried clergy.

With the intention of imitating Christ, women began living a religious life together in the Third Century. We find that Augustine, Bishop of Hippo in North Africa, established convents for women and celibacy was their mode of life approved by the Church.

This insistence upon celibacy for priests and nuns, of course, implies no disregard, no failure to appreciate the holiness and nobility of Christian marriage. The Catholic priests and nuns who deny themselves the happiness of marriage and family life are the last ones in the world who can reasonably be accused of looking down upon marriage. In season and out, they have constantly taught that Matrimony is a most sacred union, noble in purpose and instituted by God Himself. As we have pointed out elsewhere in this pamphlet, the Church teaches that marriage is a Sacrament

- that the very permanency of the union resulting from the vows of husband and wife to remain faithful to each other unto death, becomes a channel through which the help of God’s grace flows to strengthen husband and wife, father and mother, to be faithful to their vows and to discharge perseveringly and conscientiously the sacred responsibilities of parenthood.

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Let’s Convert Australia

AN APPEAL TO LAYFOLK

BY D. G. M. JACKSON, M.A

INDEX

A CENTENARY OF ACHIEVEMENT

During the present year of 1948 we have been celebrating the Centenary of the Archdiocese of Melbourne, and the occasion has been marked by splendid demonstrations of faith, in which the numbers and enthusiasm of the Australian Catholic body have been displayed before the non-Catholic world. It was all very inspiring, wasn’t it? Out of small humble beginnings, a poor Christian community built up the great Church we have inherited, with its network of religious institutions, schools and works of charity, providing for the needs of a vast multitude of people. A great work has been done for God, against heavy odds, in the preservation of our Faith, from generation to generation, amid a world in which the cancer of de-Christianisation has made frightful ravages. To be sure, there have been heavy losses—through “drifting” rather than deliberate apostasy. But we have maintained an impressive strength—thanks largely to the education system for which our people have made such sacrifices. Our places of worship are filled again and again on Sundays, and their numbers are increasing, while other religious bodies complain of depletion. Our youth organizations are strong and vigorous on every level—and our authorities are wide awake to the problem of youth. The average level of lay religious practice and frequentation of the Sacraments is high in comparison with that of most Catholic countries. This Church is vividly conscious of the problem of social justice, and the Christian attitude to social questions is set before the faithful constantly by their Hierarchy as well as by a zealous group of lay leaders.

It is our glory that we remain a Church of plain folk and work people, not hidebound by social traditions, but alive to the human needs of the new age—ready, even, to advocate revolutionary changes which seem serviceable to the Christian order. Finally, Catholics have an honourable place in the public life of Australia. They have risen to high office in the service of the State; they are prominent in civic as well as business affairs, and they are regarded in general, with substantial goodwill, as a group who have contributed worthily to their country’s life in peace and war. Deep-rooted prejudices still exist, of course—particularly those connected with the English-Irish antagonisms of the old world—but the traditional “black legends” of the nineteenth century mean less and less as time goes on; the more pernicious of them are largely confined, now, to the “lunatic fringe” of certain minor Protestant groups—and the attempt of certain virulent propagandists to revive them lately has met with no notable success.

TO KEEP THE FAITH IS NOT ENOUGH

Yes—we have a great deal to be thankful for, and to be encouraged about, if we consider our Australian Catholicity simply as a “goodly heritage” which it is our duty to preserve and hand on. But is that our whole duty? Is that all that Christ our Lord wants of His Church in Australia? Are we Catholic lay-folk fulfilling His justice, if we are content to practice our religion—even devoutly—and to see that our children are reared Christianly and taught that they must “marry their own?”

Do you remember the parable of our Saviour about the men to whom their master gave a certain number of talents—sums of money—in order that they might be improved by trading? On his return, he found that two of them had made a profit, and praised them. The third had not lost his money: he had just buried it, and handed it back exactly as he received it. But he was condemned as an unprofitable servant. I suggest that there is a grave warning in this, which we Australian Catholics would do well to take to heart. We have increased in numbers: we have built up our Christian institutions and our Christian cultural defences—but at the end of this process, what is the Australian position? Why, the proportion of our numbers to those of the nation is rather less, I believe, than it was a century or so ago. We have kept a considerable part of those born of Catholic parents from drifting away from the Church—but we have done nothing, we have scarcely attempted to do anything, towards arresting the process of religious decadence outside the Catholic body: and we seem to have forgotten altogether—most of us—that the word “Gospel” means “Good News”: news which we are supposed to share with our neighbours so far as we can.

CONVERSION IS OUR BUSINESS

We take it for granted that “born” Catholics ought to remain Catholics—but it troubles us very little that our treasure of Divine Truth should lie hidden away from our non-Catholic friends and acquaintances. We take their status, too, for granted: So-and-So is a “good Presbyterian”; another “Some Sort of Anglican”; while yet another “doesn’t believe in anything much.” Occasionally, as we know, individuals from outside do enter the Church—for marriage reasons or others; and these “converts” are often excellent Catholics of notable zeal. But how often does it occur to us that we have any personal responsibility to help on this process of conversion by evangelizing social action of our own?

There’s no getting out of it, you know. You and I are the people who have to set about converting Australia, if the job is to be done at all. If we reflect a bit—and read our New Testaments—I don’t think we can have any doubt about our obligation in this matter.

The good Christian, you know, isn’t just a man who keeps a set of ethical rules and codes of religious observance, and receives the Sacraments of his Church with regularity. He is a man who tries to imitate Jesus Christ and follow courageously in His footsteps. The special vocation to the priesthood, or the “religious life,” or the work of the missions, is only that of a minority; but everyone is called to seek “perfection” in his own sphere of life, and to reflect personally the light and love of Jesus in his particular corner of the world. What does this mean?

Well, to begin with, Our Lord summed up the whole duty of man in terms of the love due to God and his neighbour—the second arising naturally out of the first, since an all-loving Father cannot be loved truly by one who is careless of the human brethren for whom His Divine Son suffered and died. But how can you and I be said to “love our neighbour” in any true sense—let alone loving him as ourselves—if we have not the least real interest in whether he attains his “chief end,” which is the true knowledge, love and service of God with a view to everlasting life?

What sort of Christians are we if we “can’t be bothered” about this vital matter? And if we are bothered—what are we going to do about it? Are we even trying to think what we could do, or just making excuses and “passing the buck”?

Again, Our Lord spoke of “casting fire on earth” and said that He felt “straitened”—shut in—until it could be kindled. (See Luke 12:49&50) You know what His fire was—it was the fire of Divine Love, to be kindled in men’s hearts. . . . If it is in our hearts, it must beat against the obstacles which prevent it from spreading, and strive to burn them away—so that it may catch the hearts of others and make them glow. . . .

THE HOME MISSION

Finally, let me draw your attention to the last command of Christ to His Apostles to “Go into the whole world, and preach the Gospel to every creature.” It has always been held by the Church that the order was given not only to the Apostles, or to their successors, the Bishops and priests, but to the whole body of the faithful. We are, most of us, aware of the lay man’s duty to support the missions to pagans—and thanks to the constant urgings of the spokesmen of the Propagation of the Faith and the Holy Father himself, we have begun to fulfil that duty a little less inadequately than hitherto—though by no means with overwhelming generosity. But what of the “Home Mission” to the. neighbours among whom we live? Some of them profess a “nominal Christianity” which is often hardly more than “the perfume of an empty jar”: an increasing number have fallen away even from that, and dwell in a state of complete spiritual “illiteracy” and destitution, with hardly more awareness of God in their daily lives than the beasts that perish. The desert of modern secularism is more terrible, in some respects, than the dark jungle of paganism itself—for it seems at times that no spiritual notion can live there at all, whether it be true or false; that superstition and religion are alike alien to it, and that even the husks of despair cannot bring those who dwell there to turn their faces to the House of their Divine Father.

In the old days, it was possible to maintain that it was wise to leave a number of “good Protestants” in their good faith, without troubling their minds about going further. They were baptized, they had a real devotion to Christ as God, a solid idea of the “chief end of man,” and a correct code of Christian ethics. By lightly shaking their confidence in their inherited denomination and its creed we might end in pulling down instead of building up—they might drift into disbelief instead of rising towards a higher level of Christian Faith. There are even yet many of this kind—men and women whom we should be content to recognize as friends and fellow-servants of Christ, working in a common cause, unless they themselves show signs of being disquieted and ready to be drawn further along the road to the full Faith.

But this positive Protestant Christianity has, alas, long ceased to be typical. Three generations and more of secular education, with religion pushed into a corner as a matter of inconsiderable importance from the “real life” standpoint, has brought, at the end, the situation I have already described The plain man does not deny God—but he leaves Him out of account, because he has never really grasped what He is or why He is important. Whatever scraps of religious truth he has received are associated with childhood and childish ways of thought—they don’t belong to his adult life at all; he has a vague idea that all that sort of nonsense is out of date and “unscientific,” and believed in only by old women and eccentrics who live in a dream-world.

“QUIET DESPERATION”

There should be no need to explain to any Catholic how calamitous this situation is. True, a large number of such people seem to jog along pleasantly enough without faith or the spiritual life which it gives. They are not “wicked” in the ordinary sense of that term—they are good-natured, cheerful and generous; they have a fairly vivid sense of justice and a hatred of cruelty and oppression. The “rule of thumb” of a vague Christian ethic still guides their lives in general, though they tend to be slipshod and easy about moral obligations—particularly regarding sex matters and honest dealing in goods and services: But at the back of all this is what Thoreau called “quiet desperation”—not an active misery, but just an absence of hope. People live on the surface of life, busy in their daily affairs and recreations, setting their minds on some small object to be attained—a promotion, a holiday, a better job, a desired person or thing. They have no main ideal purpose in existence to shape their characters—no motive to draw them on save that of living as long and as comfortably as possible.

That individuals can live like this we know from daily observation—that such a way of living is deadly and devitalizing we are beginning to realize through the experience of the secularized civilization which we share. The instinct of an increasing number of people is to evade any moral effort requiring serious personal inconvenience, for the simple reason that they “don’t see why” they should make such an effort. Their ethical code is built on the sand of feeling and inherited tradition—not on the rock of Faith in a Law of God: if conscience troubles them there are plenty of voices ready to explain it away when the tide of temptation rises high.

Why obey the old moral codes regarding sex-relationships and marriages—as though a parson’s or magistrate’s words could change the character of a “natural” act? Why have more than one or two children, with all the inconvenience and privation and labour which a large family involves? Why not get rid of a life-partner whose presence has become burdensome, by divorce? Why not kill the incurable or the undesired unborn, or those weary of living? These, and similar “why nots” are cropping up over the whole futile field of modern life—and the modern answer—“I don’t see why not” in each case paves the way for a new line of socially destructive action.

That the end of these things is death for our society is now becoming a common-place, as our rulers wrestle with the desperate problem of how to avert the nemesis impending upon this country through its depleted birth-rate. Meanwhile, the social order built on the assumption of man’s self-sufficiency, having first developed frightful abnormalities through the worship of production and profit for its own sake, and the sacrifice of human living to the appetite for mechanized power, is now torn asunder through the revolt of the victims, who are moved by the same appetites and the same idolatry of material mastery. We drift helplessly in the direction of a system of general servitude and conscription, as the only remedy to the greed, envy and social irresponsibility which arise inevitably in a secular-minded society. The rule of law decays in men’s hearts because they have no sense of any reality save that of material power and well-being. Where a community is whole-heartedly absorbed in these “treasures of earth,” the keen struggles over their distribution—the “war of all against all”—can only be suppressed by a tyranny which imposes gaol-discipline on all alike.

SECULARISM POISONS US, TOO

While we know nothing of the secret dealings of God with individual souls, we do know what our Saviour Himself said about the necessity of having His Truth and His Life: so that we cannot but conclude that the spiritual starvation and malnutrition of vast numbers of our Australian brethren are gravely perilous from the point of view of their eternal welfare. Jesus Christ embraced death for the redemption of these human beings—He had compassion on them and thirsted for their salvation on Calvary. Does the thought of their state of neglected ignorance and apparent gracelessness still leave our withers unwrung and our hearts unmoved? If it does, what sort of “practising” Christians can we really claim to be?

Anyhow, if we are unconcerned for their sake, with the peril of these “other sheep,” straying through life unshepherded, careless of their last end, let us not imagine that we of the Faith can escape the desolation which godlessness brings. The secular atmosphere of death creeps into our own ranks—into our own hearts—like a poisonous infection, which it is harder and harder to combat. Our own people’s vision of spiritual reality becomes ghostly, as they move to and fro in a world which accepts God’s absence as normal. Our Christian pattern of culture and living becomes increasingly distorted to fit in comfortably with its materialistic aims and standards. The Christian education we give to our young slips away from them all too frequently when they leave our schools; too many drift into indifference and even apostasy, abandoning their religion lightly the first time its precepts cut seriously across their passions or plans of life.

The remedy for this perilous situation cannot be found merely through seeking to intensify the spiritual life in our own ranks without reference to the Christless external situation. We cannot make Catholics more truly Catholic without making them apostles—and, if the Kingdom of God is not spread, the development of a totalitarian system under secularist influence will soon begin to strangle the institutions upon which we rely for the preservation of our Catholic Faith and traditions, and perhaps to threaten the liberty of Catholic worship itself. These evils may seem dreams to us now, but they have come upon Christians in many countries of the world in the years since 1914. And, of course, if Australia itself is overwhelmed through its secularist sterility and weakness, by the pagan world outside, our Catholic body will suffer the fate of extinction which befell that of Roman Britain and the Catholics therein—they were harassed, persecuted, exiled and driven into mountain vastnesses.

THE CLERGY CANNOT DO THIS WORK

That the work of converting Australia must be begun by you and me, and not left to our pastors, should be clear enough to any person of common-sense. The reason has been stated clearly by the late Holy Father himself, in his great Encyclical to the Bishops of the Philippine nation, our neighbours.

“We cannot ignore . . .” wrote Pius XI, “that to repair all the damage done to modern society, the work of the clergy, no matter how assiduous and willing, is no longer sufficient; for many men, having forgotten or never having known God and His Christ are unresponsive and often hostile to the evangelizing work of the priest. Hence, the urgent need that the Apostolate of the Hierarchy shall in some way be extended to and participated in by the laity—who, instructed and spiritually prepared by the clergy, and living the Christian life in its integrity, will be apostles in their own circle, and skilled pioneers opening the way to the Light of Truth and the sanctifying action of grace: in this way co-operating humbly and effectively in the work of the Church.

“The mission, therefore, of these souls is in a certain sense the same as that of the Hierarchy, as that of Christ: to bring other souls to the supernatural life, to develop and defend it. . . .”

There are many circles in Australia with which the clergy can never make direct professional contact at all—they cannot join personally, as things are, in the life of the factory, the shop, office and the farm: they cannot talk casually with men engaged in work in these places, as companions in a common task. And even when they are in a position to “put across” their message, their apostolate is frequently less effectual than that of the intelligent and devout layman. People expect to hear religious and moral talk from them—and they discount it in advance, as being a professional “line” for which they are paid. Where what they say impinges upon the social field, it is often strongly resented—“Those fools ought to keep their noses out of politics” is a common reflection: or “What the devil do the clergy mean by interfering in family matters?” For the rest, one of the great successes of secularism has been to bring “the parson” into derision as a foolish sentimentalist out of touch with real life, and wrapped in a web of “dogma” and spiritual illusion—and even the priest to-day often suffers from the same kind of contempt among those who are not a prey to the “cunning Jesuit” prejudice inherited from the Black Legend of the older Protestantism.

CHANGING AUSTRALIA

It is quite different with the layman who knows his Faith, and is prepared to apply its principles openly at all times, both in his action and in the discussion of the problems of this world. He will find many prepared to give him a hearing, if he has anything worth saying. He can often exert a strong influence on people in favour of religious truth and sound human values, and undermine current cant and falsehood by his criticism. He may never make a single convert that he knows of—yet he may be doing a magnificent job in dispelling anti-religious prejudices, throwing a new light on the meaning and aims of life, and winning respect for the Catholic system and its viewpoint. He is, in fact, softening the soil and “thawing out” the frozen secularist temperature of his world. Once we have a considerable number of men and women exercising this type of influence in every sphere of life, we shall soon notice a change in the tone of public thinking. The mass-produced secular humbug which is widely accepted—or acquiesced in—will meet with vigorous criticism: there will be a new note of realism in the discussion of “essential freedoms,” “social justice,” “the standard of living,” “spiritual values” and “democracy.” Politicians will find it less easy to persuade the plain man that the road to servitude is the only way of securing social well-being. Scientists will provoke anger instead of admiration, when they talk learned nonsense about Social Evolution and the New Morality; the peddlers of false nationalism and race-prejudice will be treated with the contempt they merit; the purveyors of dirt, perversion and decadence will not be able to ride away blowing up the trumpet of “cultural freedom”; finally, the sophists of the universities will be listened to less readily when they claim the right to wreck the faith and values of their pupils in the name of “academic liberty.”

Not only, in fact, will there be an increase in the numbers and confidence of Christians themselves, but they will begin to form the way of thought of Australians generally—we shall radiate Christian Sanity into the pagan and semi-pagan mass, instead of being occupied only with counteracting infiltrations into our own Christian community. All this can be achieved in no long time and without any miracle, simply by the determination of a solid body of the laity that they are going to build up their Faith as a dynamic force, and wear it openly in the face of men. And once it is achieved, we shall have made a long step forward in the conversion of Australia.

And now—having spoken of the dangers involved in neglecting our apostolic task, and of the opportunity of Christianizing our country’s way of thought and life which is open to us, let us glance at some of the positive obstacles to the work of conversion—the things which tend to limit and weaken the Church’s influence on Australian life.

RACE AND FAITH

A man I know who has lived for years in India once told me a story about an eminent Englishman who asked an Indian friend “how one could become a Brahmin.” The answer was that if he gave all his goods to the poor and then committed suicide, he might have some hope of being reborn as a Brahmin. In other words, the Brahmin cult is attached to a closed racial caste, and there is no way in for those not born in it. The Jews of Our Lord’s time had, most of them, a similar attitude to their own religious system. It was something for the Chosen Race alone—Gentiles might become “proselytes” of some kind, but they could never attain the full status of the children of Abraham. This race-pride was bitterly outraged both by St. John the Baptist and our Saviour Himself. St. John, you remember, said quite bluntly, that it was of no avail talking about being “children of Abraham” if they were not loyal to God like the great patriarch. God could, he said, raise a new house of Abraham “from the stones”—as, indeed, He did, in gathering a new spiritual offspring of the Patriarch’s faith from the pagan world. Our Lord had still more wounding things to say—about the virtues of Samaritans and the “faith” of the pagan centurion, and God’s intention to call new people in to sit down at Israel’s feast, while the children first invited were cast out.

All this—one would think—was enough to warn Christians against identifying their creed with a race, nation or culture. Unfortunately, the tendency to confuse religious and clan loyalties is a typical weakness from which even those of our own Faith are not immune.

THE SACRIFICE OF THE CONVERT

This sort of thing has got to be stamped out firmly, if we are ever going to become something greater than a religious-cultural minority standing apart from the main stream of national life and thought. The lay apostle must be able to rely on the whole Catholic community for active sympathy and help in making converts fully and immediately “at home” in the household of the Faith, and in securing for them the active assistance which they often need.

If there is any distinction, actually, it should be made rather in favour of than against the convert class as authentic Catholics. After all, there is no personal credit in being born of Catholic parents, baptized as a child and reared Christianly. But the man or woman who is born in the desert of infidelity, or in heresy, and struggles to the gate of the City of God, has very frequently made heavy sacrifices, and fought a bitter fight for the Faith. Even to-day, adult conversion commonly means loss of friends and bitter experiences—sometimes it involves a tragic break with family and loved ones, and ruinous disaster to one’s career, or to social and economic prospects. In fact, the convert has suffered some degree of external martyrdom, as well as the fierce internal crisis involved in a change going to the very roots of human life. Those who have engaged in convert work are soon made aware that the world’s hatred, prophesied by Our Lord, to those who choose Him, is very real and vivid in Australia to-day; that the Faith is still a sign of contradiction, dividing parents from children, husbands from wives, friends from friends.

These people have won the citizenship of Christ’s kingdom “at a great price”; they have had to labour painfully with adult minds and hearts to grasp the truth which has been familiar to most of us since childhood—and often not grasped in a real, personal sense because it is so familiar. Is it not absurd that some foolish Catholics should be found to ignore their achievement—and the power of grace which has made it possible—treating them as “naturalized” strangers in the house of their Father? Let us have an end to nonsense about “born Catholics” and “inborn Faith.” No one is born anything but a fallen child of Adam: the grace of faith is acquired through baptism—and it is the same grace, whether conferred upon a three weeks’ old baby or on an adult of twenty-five or forty or ninety.

“PURE IGNORANCE, MADAM”

Having dealt with this matter of Catholic “racialism” I want to pass on to a still graver matter—that of the Catholic ignorance which hampers the lay apostolate. Our Christian system of education has, of course, (we hope,) given our people generally a knowledge of the basic truths of the Faith itself, as set forth in the Catechism; they “know what they worship,” and have a clear idea of the laws of God and duties of religious observance to which they are bound. But while all this might serve well enough for simple folk living in a Catholic civilization, it is certainly not adequate to the needs of a layfolk placed, as we are, in the midst of an infidel world. We have to repel its attacks, and the subtle “infiltration” of its Spirit: above all, we have to conquer it for Christ; and for this, we need some understanding of the “case for religion” from the rational standpoint, and of the evidences for the Christian revelation.

The need of apologetic training for the layfolk has been recognized by our authorities as implicit in the notion of the Catholic lay apostolate—and it is being undertaken, now, as a normal part of the secondary course in Catholic schools. The ordinary boy or girl can at least learn enough at school to know that there is a solidly rational “case” for Catholicism; so that his confidence in his Faith is increased in face of the world. Those who are interested and active will soon become capable of holding their own in most discussions with non-Catholics of their own circles. [The text ‘Apologetics and Catholic Doctrine’ is regrettably no longer a compulsory part of Catholic Secondary education in Australia. Hopefully, the Australian bishops will restore this or a similar text, which was only withdrawn under the malignant influence of some trendy educationalists.]

But it is important that the business should not be left to schools and organized bodies alone—that the plain man and woman should consider it part of their “job” as Catholics to keep on polishing up their own Catholic culture, and improving their evangelical efficiency. The effort which this demands is not an enormous one: the A.C.T.S. provides plenty of useful reading material, which can be got hold of without expense or difficulty, and carried in the pocket or purse to be read at odd moments. [Much of the best of this material can now be viewed or down-loaded at this web-site. See www.pamphlets.org.au ] The steady reader of their pamphlets will find that in a short time he has gathered a rich fund of information on a large variety of religious and religious-social topics, and has learned how to answer some of the most typical modern criticisms and objections.

Here are some of the questions people often ask. How can a good God allow evil or damnation? What has science to say about religion? How can we be certain we have souls? Can pagans and Protestants be saved—and on what terms? Isn’t the whole idea of Redemption absurd and unjust? How can we be sure Christ rose from the dead? What’s the case for Papal Infallibility—and what is it, anyhow? Do miracles really happen nowadays? Isn’t modern Catholic worship idolatrous? Isn’t the Catholic code of sex-morality outdated, absurd and cruel?

. . . These are a miscellaneous collection of everyday questions about which the lay apostle ought to know something—and about which he can usually pick up sufficient information for practical purposes, if he has formed the habit of A.C.T.S. inquiry. [Return to this web-site every week and read at least one new pamphlet! Check out www.pamphlets.org.au ] There will always be some matters upon which he will find himself “stumped” in discussion for a moment—but he should never be content to leave them: he should seize the first opportunity to remedy such defects in his knowledge, as soon as they become apparent.

THE CHRISTIAN SOCIAL PROGRAMME

Then there are the social aspects of Catholic teaching—the relation of Christian morals to the “Plan of Society” and the way men live and work. The leaders of the Australian Church have devoted an enormous amount of attention, in these last years, to social questions of all kinds; to the criticism of modern Capitalism, Socialism and Communism, and to the presentation “of solutions” to modern problems of industry, agriculture and credit based on principles of Christian humanism. Yet we still have people barn-storming about the Church “having no positive programme,” nothing to offer to the victims of modern capitalism and social justice; and complaining that her attitude is one of negative anti-Communism, as though the Popes had never spoken, and the enormous body of practical Christian social doctrine were non-existent.

Why is this? Mainly, I think, because the Catholic laity have failed to pay attention to what is written and said on these subjects, and have shown little interest in “promoting” the Christian order by becoming apologists for it in an intelligent way. Here, it isn’t a question of talking about religion directly—but of pointing our neighbours towards a way of life which is both practicable, and satisfying to the real aspirations of man, and thereby arousing their sympathy and respect for Catholicism as the ally of true human living and social sanity.

Not only have we failed to “put across” our Christian-humanist social doctrine to any notable extent—despite its correspondence to the “real will” of the common man, but the social thought of Catholics themselves remains secular and not Catholic for the most part. Catholic politicians and “party men” are still found whose public actions, views and programmes are completely unrelated to the implications of their Christian Faith, and who pay not the slightest heed to the utterances of the Hierarchy or the Pope himself on any social question. It is not simply that they have not troubled to inform themselves and “Christianize” their thinking, but that they obviously act upon the absurd liberalistic assumption which gives “The Church” a mere corner of “freedom of worship” in a national community whose social system is to be framed without regard to anything except the human opinions and theories of the time. “The law of God,” said a Russian judge, “does not exist on Soviet territory.” To judge by the irresponsible conduct of some of our Christian statesmen and partisans, one would think that they thought Australia—as a secular State—was also outside the sphere of Divine authority.

It is clear that we shall have no effective Christian statesmanship until the Christian social “idea” is no longer overlaid by a too socialist or any other ideology, but is sufficiently current in public thinking to produce a real influence on party policies. In other words, it is no good growling about the defects of our politicians until we have begun to desecularize the outlook of our Catholic “rank and file,” so as to make constructive, radical social thinking a vital force in this community, as well as Christian anti-Communism.

THE RIGHT APPROACH

You may recall that St. Paul opened his first discourse at Athens by congratulating the pagan citizens on their “religiousness”—and that he made use of a shrine to the “Unknown God” as a means of gaining their attention. He didn’t abuse Apollo or Athena; he said “let me tell you something about this Unknown True God whom you yourselves worship—and who has made His revelation to mankind.” Here we have a perfect example of the right approach, which is of such great importance to the lay apostle. Begin by seeing, and appreciating, the common ground between yourself, as a Catholic and those you wish to influence. Don’t demonstrate the silliness of their false ideas, or mock at their ignorance, or take an irritatingly superior tone, or aim at “scoring points” in controversy. You’re not out for a verbal victory—you’re out to move the mind and heart of a fellow-human being. The first stage, therefore, is to listen and watch rather than rush into the fray. You may find your friend has a strong sense of social justice, or that he is obsessed by the fear of war, or the need of better education. He may be a firm Christian believer, but prejudiced against Catholicism as undemocratic, or superstitious, or identified with “social reaction” and intolerance. Again, he may be a zealous patriot who feels that our religion is alien and hostile to his British-Australianism or whatever else he holds dear as a nationalist. Whatever his attitude, your own approach must be designed so as to make the utmost use of the truths and values you share with him, while undermining and dispersing his prejudices and illusions. The Puritan has to be shown that all that is true in his creed is to be found in Catholic asceticism—but that it is completed in the light of a truer understanding of human nature. The patriot must be made to see the Church as the consecrator of national loyalties, and the foe only of nationalist idolatry. The zealot for justice must be brought to understand that without the faith in man’s immortality the very idea of his personal value must perish—and the fight for “justice” become meaningless.

“Feeling of edges” and denunciation are wholly out of place in dealing with men sincerely in error—when it is necessary to launch an attack upon some opposing creed or system of thought or institution it should be done without a touch of heat or a word of contempt, letting Truth speak for itself against its enemies. There are far too many Catholics who have a habit of thinking and talking of non-Catholic clergy and religious layfolk in contemptuous terms. We are so impatient with what we deem their follies and illusions that we have no perception of the positive and solid Christian elements in their thought and life. We shall be surprised, perhaps, in the next world, to find how many of these souls we presume to despise are among God’s true heroes: for a zeal and devotion is often found among them which puts the “household of the Faith” to shame. Meanwhile, our contemptuous, distrustful aloofness towards them not only hinders conversions; it also prevents the formation of the “common front” which this country needs—the front of all religious believers against the advancing tide of secularism and the servile state.

That we are, in general, grossly ignorant about the religious beliefs of our non-Catholic neighbours will soon become apparent to any Catholic who talks to a convert from some other Christian body; and this ignorance is yet another thing that the intelligent layman should set himself to remedy. There is no use flogging dead horses in our controversy, or assuming the existence of beliefs which are not held, or seldom held, by Protestants of the present time: it means waste of time and failure of contact. Instead of hastening to reply fiercely to every petty attack, every pin-prick of “black legend” bigotry, we should be better employed in the constructive task of understanding the Anglican mind, the Presbyterian mind and the Methodist mind, as they exist in Australia to-day. Their mistakes about us do not excuse our misunderstanding of them, which is a serious disadvantage from every point of view.

WORDS AND DEEDS

It is foolish and false to pretend that intelligent controversy is of no value in spreading Catholicism; and those who profess that “argument is useless” are, for the most part, simply seeking an excuse to cover up their own sloth or lack of courage. The need and duty of “showing forth” the Faith, against unbelievers is asserted vigorously by St. Thomas Aquinas as well as by Pope Leo XIII, who declares that it is base for a Catholic to “recoil” or keep silence when the Faith is challenged, and that such behaviour is an insult to God. For the rest, the controversial aggressiveness of the Communist apostles shows that they, at least, have no doubts about the usefulness of argument for making converts, and their belief in it has been very fully justified by the results they have achieved. A mere word-battle can be useless, and indeed, harmful, if waged so as to engender heat rather than light; but this is by no means true of disputation conducted with intelligence, tact and charity.

Yet, when all is said and done, the best argument of all for Catholicism should be in the lives of those who profess it. It was used with effect by the first apologists, who appealed with confidence to the moral contrast between the Christian and pagan communities of their time. It is not possible, unfortunately, to speak with this kind of confidence to-day—on the contrary, this modern apologist finds himself hard put to it to explain why the members of the Catholic community fail to stand out as in any way conspicuously superior to their Protestant or pagan neighbours in social virtue. There is a common impression outside the Church that we are more lax about drunkenness and gambling than our fellow-citizens, and it is frequently declared that we provide an undue proportion of criminal delinquents. It is not my task, here, to deal with these accusations—which are largely untrue or exaggerated, and are made without due attention to social factors affecting the industrial poor in all countries. But at least our light, as a Christian community, can hardly be said to shine very brightly before the eyes of Australia. We arouse neither the admiration, nor the hatred, nor the fear that we should arouse if we were less “conformed to the world” of secular-pagan materialism by which we are surrounded. People are not really worried by our “Christian revolution” as they are by the Reds or Communists. We are such “clubbable” fellows, aren’t we? So ready to avoid unpleasantness by not drawing attention to our beliefs unduly—so ready to go along with everyone else in the practical affairs of life, and to accept the compromises on principle which make things pleasant and smooth. “All for love, and the world well lost” does not exactly present our way of looking at our life as followers of Christ.

APOSTOLATE OF THE CORPORAL WORKS

All of which leads me to mention one more thing that each one of us can do, and ought to do, by way of apostolic action—and that is to reflect Christ’s light on our neighbour by active, constant, even foolish generosity and kindness towards him. Even in the cases—all too frequent to-day—where all interest in spiritual truth or need of God seem to have perished, the hard crust of insensibility can often be pierced by one who is prepared to practice human love in a sacrificial way—to take trouble to serve strangers where nothing whatever is to be gained either of recompense, or prestige or even gratitude. The corporal works of mercy—these are weapons of apostolic victory which can scarcely fail.

The lay apostle cannot hope, in most cases, to discern visible results for which he knows himself to be responsible. He may never be certain that he has achieved even one conversion—yet some small word, or deed of his may have incalculable spiritual importance in the life of another soul. It may be the first crack in the ice of indifference or prejudice, or set him thinking on new and fruitful lines: or without ever coming into the visible Church, he may be led to a new faith and love for Christ our Lord. Our concern is not with measuring our personal success—we only know that if we offer our work to Him, He will see to the fruits that in and through Him our failures can achieve an ultimate undreamed-of victory; and that without Him we can do nothing at all, though we speak with the tongues of men and angels.

BEGIN NOW!

There are many of us, of course, who could be, and ought to be, members of some organized Catholic Action Auxiliary, whose activities concern our special sphere. In the city of Melbourne, and in so many other places, the Legion of Mary—with members of either sex—is engaged both in convert instruction work and the personal services of charity of a number of kinds. Catholic Apologists and similar groups such as Sydney’s Lumen Verum Apologetics are enjoying a new spring as we enter a period of ‘New Evangelization.’ A pioneer in this work is the Catholic Evidence Guild, which is the direct preaching of the Faith to non-Catholics on the Yarra Bank and elsewhere: and the labourers are all too few for this magnificent and fruitful work. I should like to commend these bodies, especially to my Catholic readers, since they provide training for the lay apostolate as well as giving work to the trained zealot.

But if, for any reason, you cannot become a member of “organized” Catholic Action, that does not mean that you are justified in standing aside from the lay apostolate. You can train yourself, with the advice of your confessor or parish priest—and, as I have shown, the works of essential information you need are not too difficult to procure. For the rest, you can cultivate the habit of watching for real apostolic opportunities, so that you may use them to “get across” some message, no matter how small, which will help Christ’s work in this mission field of Australia, and advance the cause of Christian social humanism. As you improve your apologetic knowledge and understanding, you will find your interest in the work grow, until it becomes second nature to you to play the part of an apostle, and to radiate a Catholic influence on the life of any circle you frequent.

ABOVE ALL—PRAY FOR AUSTRALIA

I have left to the very end the greatest, most vital work of the lay apostolate, without which all other work is vain—mere “Martha-business” and activism, and not true Action for Christ. The life of every successful evangelist—beginning with Our Lord Himself, is first and foremost a life of fervent prayer: and Jesus Christ Himself has told us of the wonders that the prayer of Faith can achieve—of its irresistible power before the throne of God. In the modern apparitions of Our Lady at Lourdes and at Fatima, it is to be observed that the Mother of God spoke almost entirely upon two topics, the need to pray, and the need of penance to expiate sin; and we may be sure that we shall get nowhere if we neglect her directions—above all, her appeal to say the Rosary, often, and fervently. At the Centenary celebrations, this country was dedicated to the care of her Immaculate Heart—that Heart which was pierced sevenfold by the agony of her Son, as she shared His passion on Calvary. Let us use our Rosaries, then, as golden fetters of prayer, to bind Australia more closely to the feet of this, her gracious Patron, our glorious Queen and Mother; while we offer our Masses and Communions to her Divine Son, so that this land may have life abundantly, and be enlightened with the Truth which makes men free.

Our Lady, Help of Christians remember Australia!

Lord Jesus, convert our country!

Let’s See The Other Side

BY DANIEL A. LORD S. J

INDEX

The party was relatively small; but no doubt about it, thought Mrs. Bradley, smiling inwardly, it was a success. She mentally patted herself on the back for having selected this evening, the evening of the golf tournament’s semi-finals, for her party. It offered conversational possibilities-discussion of the day’s play and apodictic prophecies about the result of the finals. Nothing helped conversation so much as the blending of history, current events, and prophecy. And the discussion of golf on the day before the finals encouraged just such a blend.

Out of the corner of her eye she noted the long buffet table on which the remains of the dinner were spread in pleasing and still tempting disarray. The waiters, hovering in the background, were smiling, perhaps because the guests had been so frank in their praise of the food, perhaps because of the pleasing quantity of food that still remained and of the meal to which they would soon sit down.

The guests sat at little tables on the wide verandah of the Bradley summer home. The lake breeze swept across the lawn and gently ruffled the tablecloths and stroked chiffons and cool linens and tossed about inconsequential but delightful scraps of conversation. Obviously the fourteen guests were having a good time. What more could a hostess ask as reward for the painstaking task of planning a summer dinner party?

DINNER’S END

Mr. Bradley arose with elaborate dignity. From a shelf under the buffet table he drew the longest and the darkest box of Corona Coronas and with it made the rounds of his male guests. That meant, thought Mrs. Bradley, that eating was officially at an end. She signaled to the waiters, and they began the expeditious process of removing the tables from the verandah and pointing at offending crumbs on the porch rug the long arm of a vacuum’s streamlined attachment.

There was an easy shifting of positions. The business of eating had necessarily divided the sixteen into four small clusters, but now they naturally drifted into one rather irregular circle. Porch swings began to sway gently. The men disposed themselves in pardonably comfortable ease. Mrs. Bradley snapped off the overhead porch lights, so that the light from the two floor lamps seemed to weld the party and bring them into harmony with the charming twilight. And off on the lake the put-put of a motor-boat tried-and failed-to keep time with the song of some amateur quartet, which mingled very little harmony and much laughter and gay vituperation of a notably aggressive tenor.

In spite of the fact that the guests were, as summer-resort crowds usually are, mixed, they had blended beautifully. The whole evening, Mrs. Bradley thought, was simply made to order. And if the evening continued in this way.

ENTER THE TWINS

Up the steps bounded the twins, Dick and Sue. Mrs. Bradley glowed with maternal pride as every eye turned to her good-looking young son and daughter. Dick, she mused happily, had never looked more tanned and clean-cut and strapping than he did now in his summer flannels; Sue was something for other mothers to contemplate with frank envy.

“Hi!” cried Dick, with an inclusive wave of his big brown paw. He had two library books tucked un der his arm, Mrs. Bradley noticed. How many lads of his age, she asked herself contentedly, would take time to read when all the summer world of open air and lake and sky was calling them to light gaiety and physical activity? He came over to her and kissed her affectionately.

“Good -evening,” murmured Sue in her best party manner, and every one of the men, including her father, answered her in a hearty and altogether approving chorus that almost drowned the more dignified response of the women.

“Plenty of food left,” said Mrs. Bradley, nodding toward the kitchen.

“We picked up some food in the village,” answered Sue.

“Yee Oldee Shoppee for Modern Sandwiches,” added Dick.

And then the twins spotted Father Hall, who was seated far over in the corner of the twilit porch. “Hey!” they cried, in happy duet.

“Fancy meeting you here!” said Dick.

“Fancy the anguish and disappointment of not meeting you here!” added Sue.

TWO BOOKS

They serpentined their way toward their devoted priest friend. But as they did so, Dick spied an empty chair and relieved himself of his books. It happened that that chair was near Professor Clifford, and Professor Clifford was the only one of the guests (except for his wife, who believed a professor’s wile should show a professional interest in books) who would have thought of examining the books. He picked them up and noted the titles with surprise. Then, first turning his head slowly to follow the twins in their progress toward Father Hall, he opened the first volume to chapter one.

The twins reached Father Hall and again exchanged greetings with him. In a sort of shorthand conversational style all their own the three of them had begun to compare notes on the past few days when Professor Clifford’s voice cut the varied threads of the verandah conversation.

“Well,” he said, clearing his throat in true professorial fashion, “I thought you young people would be reading detective stories, or perhaps fastromances. I”d no idea that you read things like these.”

Dick turned as if he had been jerked back with a taut bit. Even the dim light cast by the floor lamps were sufficient to show a flush under his tan. Sue bit her lip in quick embarrassment. The twins did not have to look at each other to know just what each was thinking and feeling.

TURNING THE PAGES

They left Father Hall, bent on retrieving the books as soon as possible. But the professor, famous for thoroughness, had lowered the book a little to bring it closer to the light from the lamp and was paging through the volume with genuine interest.

“Well, well!” he repeated, his mind pulling up whole paragraphs in single swift glances. “It’s nice to know that young people read serious books these days.”

Then he looked up at the twins, who were standing in front of him, their hands partly raised in a gesture that expressed their hopeful desire to reclaim their books.

“And I confess,” he added, taking in the whole group with a sweep of his eyes and then bringing his glance back to the twins, “that I”m surprised to find you reading precisely these books. I didn’t know that Catholics-and of course we couldn’t miss the fact that the Bradleys are excellent and devout Catholics-read books like these.”

WHICH OTHER SIDE?

Dick’s flush deepened. The attention of the entire group was centered on the twins, and Dick would gladly have wrung the professor’s not-too-muscular neck.

“Nothing unusual about it,” he muttered. Then in a quick defensive burst he added. “We Catholics like to read the other side.”

“That’s it,” said Sue, beaming with relief, “we like to read the other side. One has to see the other side these days, you know.”

The professor’s face reflected her beam with appreciation.

“Excellent!” he said, “excellent! You know you Catholics are often accused of being narrow-minded, lacking-if I may say so at the risk of seeming a bit rude-in breadth of viewpoint. I”m delighted to know that you two young Catholics believe in seeing and reading the other side.”

“Which other side?”

DUEL

Everyone turned, Father Hall was deftly tamping tobacco into his favourite pipe. Clearly it was he that had spoken, but his voice was so cool and quiet that no one could be quite sure whether it was at that instant tinged with naivete or irony.

“Eh?” demanded the professor. He didn’t particularly like the parish priest of Lake side. He had met him only twice before this evening, and there were a number of things about the priest that he resented. This Father Hall, the professor thought, was much too modern in his outlook and his interests -too modern for one connected with so distinctly mediaeval an institution as the Roman Catholic Church. The priest’s lack of mental dustiness seemed slightly blas- phemous to him. And Father Hall had had the bad taste to disagree with him on points of history that he, the professor, had always taken for granted-and the priest had been correct. What right had priests to know about anything outside of theology and that persistent little black book they always toted around with them wherever they went?

“Eh?” demanded the professor again. “I don’t quite understand.”

“I just wanted to know,” said Father Hall, still mingling naivete, with irony, “since you think we Catholics oug ht to see the other side, just which other side you mean.”

The professor flung his hands in a wide arc as he did when an obnoxious pupil in one of his classes asked him what was clearly a catch question.

CATHOLIC AND NOW—. .

“The non-Catholic side, obviously,” he said, heatedly. “I take it for granted, my dear father, that even you know that there is another side. If I am not mistaken, there is a side that is clearly Catholic; then there a side that is very decidedly not Catholic.

You Catholics, if I may say so, generally know your own side extremely well. But, I regret to add, I find that you Catholics are extremely poorly posted on the other side. And, to repeat what I said to the young man here, I am delighted to find that there evidently are young Catholics who are making an effort to read about the other side. I like that breadth of mind.”

Father Hall sighed a little and lighted his pipe. The flare of the match illumined his face, which seemed innocent of all guile.

“But you still haven’t answered my question, professor. You still haven’t explained which other side you want Dick to know.”

The professor held up the book, as if he were holding up some object to a not-too. bright pupil.

“The other side as contained, for instance, in books like this one, which clearly disagrees with the Catholic Church and says so in no unmistakable terms.”

OUT OF A FIELD

Father Hall drew on his pipe until the tobacco glowed, and then he flicked out the match.

“May I ask professor, whether you have read that book?”

“As a matter of fact-” (The professor coughed in embarrassment.) “I haven’t read it. You see that’s outside my field.”

“In that case,” said the priest, “that book constitutes one side that you haven’t investigated. There’s one side you don’t know. That’s why I emphasised the word “which” when I asked you which side you meant.”

The group on the verandah were following this duel of words in interested silence. After all, they had pretty well exhausted the subject of the golf tournament, and when two antagonists like Father Hall and Professor Clifford seemed about to lock horns, there was reason for delightful anticipation. Mrs. Bradley, however, looked about her a little uneasily.

The group was, save for Father Hall, her husband and the twins, and the Careys from down the lake, entirely nonCatholic. How would they take this little scuffle?

Her look satisfied her that they were taking it with keen relish, and she settled back, content.

THE FLATTERING DIVISION

The professor replaced the books on the chair. And Dick and Sue, grateful that the conversation had switched from them to a more general theme, sat down at the base of the porch column, prepared to enjoy the battle.

“You see, professor,” Father Hall continued, “you lined up mankind on two sides: the Catholic side and the nonCatholic side. That is a quite common and, I do believe, a quite flattering division.”

“It wasn’t meant to be flattering,” said the professor, letting his temper slip.

“Perhaps not. But the fact remains that you echoed the educated world’s commonest classification of the sides men take. Now I grant you one sidethe Catholic side. But the other side? That’s split up into several thousand other sides. That was what I meant when I asked you which other side you want us Catholics to study. Which of the thousand other sides, all disagreeing more or less with our side, do you think we ought to investigate? Don’t you agree that even if we did try to investigate all the other sides, let’s say spent the rest of our lives doing nothing else but that, death would find us with our job hardly begun?”

DIVISION ON THE PORCH

Everyone on the porch laughed, not so much at the priest’s words as at the amusing affectation of despair that accompanied those words. But the professor glared. And the twins, exchanged complacent glances.

Suddenly Father Hall leaned forward. “Let’s take a census of the sides that are represented right here on the porch,” he suggested. “If you don’t mind, that is, making professions of faith . . .

“Or lack of faith;” supplemented tall Mr. Rodney, who hadn’t been near a church since he stopped going to Sunday school back at the turn of the century.

“All of you, except my good friends the Bradleys and the Careys, are non-Catholic. You are all, in the words of the professor, onthe other side. May I ask you then: Which other side?” The priest’s manner was completely disarming.

It was an amusing revelation that they laughingly made. And in a few moments the whole procedure had become hilarious

CATALOGUE

One of the guests was a Christian Scientist; another was an atheist. One man professed to be an agnostic, but a few questions revealed that he was not sure what an agnostic was. One was a staunch Methodist; another was a Unitarian. The Brownes went to the High Episcopalian Church once a year, though they confessed that they found the service a little mystifying.

Young Hilda Lane loftily declared that she thought there was a great deal to be said for Communism, and she twirled her massive four-carat diamond ring as she made this declaration. One of the men said that psychology had knocked into a cocked hat whatever faith he had had.

One of the women announced that she was reading Hindu literature and was finding it very fascinating. “There was the most charming swami . . .” she began. But the contributions of the other members drowned her out.

One of the guests thought that all religions were pretty good but that none of them was very important.

One woman wished that she had time to go a little more thoroughly into spiritualism. “Oh, there’s a great deal of it that’s fake,” she murmured, “but just the same, I feel that there must be something . .

And one man, a biochemist, frankly declared himself to be a materialist.

And then, when each had made his “confession,” as if by a spontaneous impulse everyone started to talk at once. Each one wanted to give an explanation for what he was or wasn’t. And then as if by the same impulse everyone suddenly stopped talking and burst into laughter.

WHERE TO START

But Father Hall only smiled.

“I apologise;” he said, “for starting what sounded a little like a board of trade on a busy afternoon. But you do see now, don’t you, professor, what I mean by which other side? Here are the Bradleys, the Careys, and myself, united i n our representation of the Catholic side; but the other side, as you call it, is represented by twelve charming people each of whom stands in a position that is totally different from that of the others-eleven positions, I should say, since the Brownes are agreed on the High Episcopalian Church.

“Now just suppose that I were to take the time and the thought necessary to de vote myself to the study of these eleven positions. Think what a life’s career that would be! No, professor; you really haven’t made yourself clear about what you mean by the other side. As I see it, you’ve assigned Dick here a pretty tremendous job. .”

They all laughed as if they found it very amusing-all, that is, except the professor, who snorted and waved a professorial finger in a gesture of one admonishing a prank-some scholar.

THE NEW THOUGHT

“Very amusing,” he said, caustically, “very amusing indeed. You may be interested to know that when I spoke about the other side I was not thinking in terms of organised religions.”

“Organised religions?” queried Father Hall, mildly, “like Communism and psychology and biochemistry and agnosticism?”

“Please,” begged the professor, “don’t be Jesuitical.”

“Ah!” sighed the priest, “I”m a member of the diocesan clergy. There’s nothing Jesuitical about me. I even wear a Roman cassock.”

That last point was lost on the group. And evidently all points were lost on the professor, for he pursued his way.

“Not organised religions,” he persisted. “As everyone knows, the last few generations have made wonderful progress in and for the process of thought. Our universities have not been idle. Science has achieved what in mediaeval days would undoubtedly have been called the incredible and the miraculous. We have built up a great body of facts, on which we are constructing a new heaven and a new earth. I think I am safe in saying that all of that constitutes what we are now calling the other side. And a very powerful and-from the viewpoint of organised religion-a very crushing side it is indeed.”

Father Hall waved his pipe.

“I quite agree with you that science has made marvellous contributions to knowledge. Its fact-finding activities have been splendid. The microscope and the telescope, to mention but two of the crudest of its instruments, have opened a new world inside and outside of the world that we once knew.”

WE KEEP UP

“Precisely,” cried the professor, infinitely pleased. “And it is highly commendable that we know that there is such a side and that we give that knowledge a chance to broaden our mind and strengthen our grasp on truth.”

“But,” countered the priest, “you seem to have the impression that we Catholics don’t know that that side exists. We are aware of it, I assure you. I myself do all I can to keep pace with scientific progress. Drop in and see my library before the end of the summer.”

“We can’t make head or tail of loads of his books,” volunteered Sue. “Looks like pretty heavy going to us.”

“And,” added Father Hall, “these young people are studying in their Catholic colleges biology and history and chemistry and astronomy courses that couldn’t be shamed by courses that are offered in non-Catholic schools.”

“Oh,” inserted young Miss Lane,. acidly, “I thought that Catholic colleges went in for religion and how many angels can dance on the point of a pin.”

“I never could understand,” murmured the priest, “why non-Catholics think that our angels are so insistent about dancing on pins. Disagreeable place for a dance, I”d say. No, Miss Lane; we keep right up to the minute on the facts, the scientific facts, the data that are being constantly piled up through research. But . . .

“Ah!” said the professor, sensing a triumph, “I knew there was a but.”

Father Hall arose, walked across the verandah, and sat down on the porch rail. He was finding this argument great fun. Swinging one leg loosely, he faced the group and tried not to feel like a District Attorney about to make a point.

“Yes; I quite agree with you, professor; scientific facts are splendid, and have been marvellously useful. But let me ask you a question. How far do you think we would get if we called together the leading scientists in all the fields in your university and asked them to sit down and explain the facts, put them into a philosophy?”

“My dear fellow!” It was the professor’s turn to laugh. “Why, that would he an absurd request, one that would do no more than create bedlam. We don’t ask scientists to agree on theories. We don’t ask them to formulate philosophies.”

“But each of those scientists holds and teaches his theory or theories, doesn’t he?” insisted Father Hall. “There are some men at your university who maintain, let’s say, that the scientific data in the universe prove that there is no God, and others who hold that scientific data point to a creative intelligence, and others, pantheists, who believe that everything is God, and still others who are materialistic monists . .”

DISSENSION IN THE UNIVERSITY

“What in the world are those?” demanded little Mrs. Stevens, the Christian Scientist.

“People who maintain that the whole world can be explained in terms of matter and force,” pontificated the professor. “ . . . and others,” continued Father Hall, “who are spiritualistic monists . . .”

“Dear, dear! What words!” exclaimed the little lady again.

“Your Mrs. Eddy,” said the priest, smiling, was one of those. She believed that the world contained only spirit, that the only manifestations in the world were spiritual manifestations”

“Of course,” she hastily agreed. “And a charming doctrine it is.”

“And don’t some of your professors say that man has no free will?” queried Father Hall, turning again to the professor.

“And don’t others insist that he has free will? And others that he is bound by heredity? And still others that he is bound only by environment?And haven’t you men on your faculty who maintain that human conduct must be governed by the Ten Commandments? And others who deny for human conduct the validity of any law other than that which the individual makes for himself? And others still who say that all law comes from the State, or from custom, or from experience, or from a conviction of the usefulness or the futility of this act or that?”

WHOM TO HEAR

“Most certainly,” agreed the professor who had been listening with some impatience. “We encou rage the widest possible range of opinion.”

“But,” protested Father Hall, “if in one university each of a dozen different men holds a different theory on the same set of facts, it’s rather difficult to learn what you mean by the other side. Here are two scientists who agree in declaring that the Church is wrong when she says that man is a creature composed of body and soul. But the one scientist believes that the world is all spirit, and the other believes that the world is all matter. Now which of these two sides would you have us investigate?

“Again, one scientist points to the marvels of the world to prove that material things are superior to the things of God, and another points to those same marvels to prove that we don’t need a God, and another declares that those marvels are themselves God. All of these scientists agree in declaring that the Church is wrong, yet each of these scientists disagrees with the others . . .”

“Really,” concluded Father Hall, throwing his hands into the air, “it quite takes my breath away.”

They all laughed a little sheepishly, and the professor attempted to look amusedly tolerant.

FREEDOM, NOT UNITY

“Perhaps you have noted,” Father Hall continued, “that Professor Hutchins of Chicago University has lately been lamenting the fact that universities are so torn, so divided against themselves. The secular university, he has declared, suffers because it has no philosophy to unite it into a single whole. It has, in other words, too many other sides. What is taught in the philosophy department contradicts what is taught in the medical school; the law school lays down rules of conduct for men who are assured by the psychology department that men can keep rules not at all because men have no free will; Buchinanites and Communists, Unitarians and materialists, devout Methodists and frank atheists, men hopeful of humanity, and men despairful of humanity- each expounds his own pet theory in perhaps the very same lecture hall”

“And all,” said the professor, triumphantly, “in the interests of freedom of thought.”

“But all,” retorted the priest, “making it very difficult to follow your advice about seeing the other side. So I come back to my original question: Which other side?”

Professor Gifford shrugged his shoulders. The argument had grown quite annoying, almost unnecessary, he thought. But with his usual lack of tact, Father Hall pushed firmly, if gently, along his way.

DISSENSION IN THE PRESS ROOM

“Recently a group of young and some not-so-young liberals in New England got together to establish a newspaper. It was to be a modern liberal’s idea of heaven in a newspaper office. This group calmly announced that the newspaper would have no policy. A staff of important writers would write what they felt like writing when they felt it. Included on that staff was Broun, Reynolds, Ursula Parrott and a half-dozen others. The editor-in-chief, speaking in a newsreel that presented the beginnings of this enterprise, said in substance:We’ll all write what we want to write and say what we think. We are all editors. Nobody is boss. I hope that once in a while we’ll agree on something.

“There you have it- a famous other side; a group of liberals, some of them non-Catholic from birth and at least one of them nonCatholic by defection from the Church, who can tell everyone else what’s wrong with everything else but who hold out very little hope about ever agreeing among themselves, That one enterprise has, not one other side, but as many other sides as there are editors.

“I”11 admit that those editors may manage to publish a very amusing paper. After all, it is fun to watch a good fight . . . provided one is personally safe and well out of range of the brickbats that usually strike the innocent bystander. But my first objection still stands: While I admit that the Catholic Church is one side, I cannot grant that this unjelled group of conflicting minds constitutes the other side.

WHICH SIDE FIRST?

“And this picture that I have attempted to sketch is representative of the actual situation. So when people tell me to read the other side, I become a little discouraged. Which other side? Shall I study Hinduism, or High-Church or LowChurch or Broad-Church Episcopalianism? Shall I run with the fundamental Methodists? or with the Unitarians, who have scrapped the divinity and the miracles of Christ? Shall I be a Seventh Day Adventist or a Holy Roller? Or should I perhaps follow the new revelation of Judge Rutherford, Jehovah’s Witness? Shall I be a psychologist who accepts free will, or one who rejects it? Shall I be a pantheist, a deist, a monist, or an atheist? And if I am to follow Socialism, which one of the half-dozen different brands shall it be? And if I decide to read up on Communism, whom shall I read, Stalin or Trotsky? And evolution? Well there are so many theories of evolution. . . . If I follow the survival-of-thefittest theory, I”11 have most of the modern scientists on my neck. . . . and if I move along with adapted Mendelianism, I”11 be accused of being false to Darwin.”

“I”m terribly confused. The picture is, not the Catholic Church and the other side, but the Catholic Church and too many other sides. And the mere business of finding out just where to begin reading and studying and investigating these multitudinous sides is in itself a task of staggering proportions.

“And really, professor, when you add to all this the admission that there are different theories and differences of opinion among your own university confreres, you make my situation even more hopeless.”

NARROW-MINDED

The professor saw an opening and, using good military tactics, rushed to the attack.

“So,” said the professor, coldly emphatic, “since it is a little confusing-and I should be the first to admit that it is—the Catholic, even the intelligent Catholic, is content to study his own side and to let the rest of us poor, ignorant, misguided nonCatholics, go our own stupid way.”

He was really quite angry, and he made his point almost fiercely. Father Hall smiled at him with genuine friendliness.

“Before I answer that argument, professor, I”d like to make this much clear: While the principles and philosophy of the Catholic Church may seem absurd to you, you will have to admit that the Church is unified, logical according to her lights, and quite accessible to the human mind. You could get a fair idea of what the Catholic Church-and that means all practising Catholics the world over and history through- holds if you spent one afternoon in studying three or four books that I could suggest.”

“Now, from your viewpoint we Catholics represent the other side.

UNFAIR QUESTION

“But let me ask you a question, if you will: When did you last read a book that upholds the Catholic side of any question?”

The professor blinked. The entire group looked a little startled, as if the idea were altogether absurd. Imagine asking the professor, a busy man, with classes to teach and his own personal research to conduct and graduate work to supervise, when he had last read a Catholic book? Not when had he read such a book, but when had he last read . . .”

“I beg your pardon,” cried the professor, seeming not to have heard the question.

“Well,” said Father Hall, shrugging his shoulders, “you’ve charged me with failure in broad-mindedness because I haven’t read about all the various sides that are not Catholic-and there really aren’t days and years and centuries sufficient for that task. But it shouldn’t take a trained reader like you very long to read up on the Catholic Church. When did you last read a book that upholds the Catholic side of any question?”

“Why . . . why . . .” The professor was coming close to spluttering. The priest lighted his pipe again and out of consideration for the professor’s indignant confusion turned his face away from the verandah and looked out toward the lake.

THEY DON’T READ US

“Unfair question,” admitted the priest. “Unfair because you’ve probably never read a Catholic book . . . probably not even the “Imitation of Christ;” which even a man who does not accept Catholic principles would find a really beautiful thing. Please don’t think me too rude, professor, if I presume to read your mind. You’re thinking: “Why, what a ridiculous question! Why should I waste my precious time reading Catholic nonsense”?”

This time the professor did splutter. And he spluttered because he had been thinking precisely that, had been thinking it with annoyed resentment.

But Father Hall waved his hand in a gesture that dismissed the question and the ensuing embarrassment.

“Forgive me,” he said. “It was a rotten trick. But I did want to point out one rather outstanding fact. The other sides, about which you are constantly concerned, accuse us of crass bias and bigotry because we don’t read all their books and follow all their circuitous and criss-crossing paths. And yet it is an undisguised fact that those on the other sides really never, or so seldom that it can hardly be reckoned, read anything about the Catholic side. Let us come back to your professor friends for a minute. Do you know of any of them who have tried or are trying to find out what the Church really teaches and why? I”ve talked in a fair number of universities to a fair number of learned societies, and I find that any statement that I make about the Catholic Church-her practices, her theories of life, her attitude on current topics, her historic traditions, her basic doctrines-comes as startling news.

A BET; NO TAKERS

“I”11 make a bet with you, professor. I”11 match you book for book. I”11 mention a book that I”ve read about another side, and you mention a book you’ve read about my side, the Catholic side. We’ll play and pay as we would in a golf game. For each book you mention that I can’t match, I”11 pay you a dollar; for each book I mention that you can’t match, you pay me a dollar.”

“Oh, gambling!” cried Mrs. Morton, who was a devout and almost defiant Methodist.

Father Hall shook his head.

“My dear lady, betting on a sure thing is not gambling, you know. Anyhow, I doubt that the professor is going to take my bet.”

He didn’t, and the conversation turned into other channels. And everyone seemed glad enough to get back to ground that was free from high explosives.

FOR A WALK

The party was over. Mrs. Bradley was saying good-bye to her guests, who assured her they had had a delightful evening. Father Hall and the twins stood near the steps, talking about the tennis tournament that was scheduled for the coming week; Dick and Sue planned to enter both singles and doubles.

Suddenly Dick said, “May we walk you home, Father?”

“I”m taking Father home in the car,” said their sire, hospitably.

“Thanks,” smiled the priest, “but the twins seem bent on walking the legs off me, and I think I”11 let them have their way.”

And he shook hands with Mr. and Mrs. Bradley and, flanked by his beloved twins, walked off into the velvet evening. Dick broke the friendly yet expectant silence. He knew that all three of them were thinking about the discussion and the books that had given rise to it.

“I”m afraid you gave the good professor a bad drubbing,” he said at last, with a slight effort at ingratiation. The priest was quick in his protest: “It wasn’t, believe me, for the drubbing’s sake.”

THE REAL AUDIENCE

“We knew that,” said Sue. “Fact of the matter was you were talking to Dick and to me, and we both knew it.” The priest nodded but said nothing, and they continued to walk along briskly. The mystic, intangible silver of the moon seemed to flood the little road-which ran along the lake-and the cottages, which appeared at closer intervals as the trio approached closer to the village.

“Yes,” Father Hall said, at last, “I was talking to you. I don’t suppose that anything will ever convince the professor that I”m not a bigot. If I told him how much time we spent in our philosophy and theology courses on what he vaguely calls the other side, he’d be openly sceptical. If I told him that in our science courses at the university the priest professors gave theother sides the fairest possible show, he wouldn’t believe me. And if I told him how many books about the other side I have read and continue to read, I think he’d be shocked.”

WE DO READ

The priest seemed to withdraw his enthusiasm a little.

“Sounds almost as if I were beating the drum for myself, but I really have tried to learn about the other sides. I think I know as much about most of the other religions and cults as do the people who sincerely prac tise them. I”ve studied Communism to try to find out what makes it tick, and I have read Mrs. Eddy in order to see what it was in her that fascinated people. My course in evolution was very comprehensive, and I”ve faced all the historical difficulties that are brought against the Church. I”ve read the modems, from Renan to Shaw, from O”Neill to what little I can stand of that pompous old pontiff H.G. Wells. I subscribe to a good many current magazines, even to the supposedly liberal and radical ones. I”d be ashamed not to give the other sides a fair show.”

“I know it,” blurted Dick. “Don’t be angry, Father, but I think I picked up those books chiefly because I admire you for being broadminded enough to try to see what the other chap holds.”

The priest stopped stock still in mock horror.

“To think,” he cried, “that I have become an occasion of sin and a bad example to my twins!”

EXPERT V. AMATEUR

“Hey, wait a minute!” cried Dick. “Don’t get me wrong-”

The priest pointed a finger at him and fixed him with an unblinking but humorous eye.

“And don’t get me wrong, young man. As far as theology and philosophy go, I am-in a small way-something of an expert. Are you?”

“Well, hardly,” volunteered Sue. “He rated a C in apologetics. And what was that marvellous grade you pulled down in rational psychology?”

“Dry up!” was the brotherly injunction, uttered under his breath.

“I”m an expert on certain subjects,” repeated the priest, “and the plain fact of the matter is that you are very, very far from having mastered even the beginnings of those subjects. Contact with the other sides would serve only to confuse your mind, as it has madly jumbled the minds of the thousands of young people that are completing university and college courses and that are doing a deal of undirected reading to-day.

TOTAL CONFUSION

“What is that other side that our good professor was upholding? Masonry or Mohammedanism? The stupid literal Bible worship of the Rutherford people or Harry Emerson Fosdick’s preaching of graceful modernism? George Bernard Shaw’s new and skyrocketing amorality or Ghandi’s new asceticism? Some professor’s theory that human conduct is all a matter of glands or a sociologist’s hypothesis that humanity will be saved by bigger and better tenements? Are we to follow the man who, because he wants to get rid of excess people, advocates mercy killing? Or shall we turn to the birth controllers, who want to keep people out of the world? Shall we turn Nazi with Hitler, who preaches the supremacy of Germany, or Communist with Marx, who preaches the supremacy of the suppressed classes? Shall we cast in our lot with the professor of philosophy who has read so many theories that he doesn’t believe any of them, or with the scientist who has read so little about religion that he thinks all religion is a joke?

“Now , an expert can read the sort of stuff that the other sides turn out, and if he has a firm and proved position of his own, he discovers to his pleasure that there is some truth in each of those sides. But he takes the truth and then stops. He doesn’t allow himself to be knocked around by the frightful disagreements in these sides. He doesn’t permit himself to be sunk by some theory which seems plausible only until a chap on another side knocks that theory into the famous cocked hat.

STRONG PROOF

“Please remember that one of the soundest proofs for the truth of the Catholic position is precisely that generation after generation the theories of the Church’s enemies cancel one another. But during the time that those theories are in vogue, it takes an expert to see their weaknesses. And until experience or time or the coming of a new prophet has chucked these theories into the scrap heap of human follies, the amateur is likely to be rather badly disturbed by them.

“I want you to get this clear: On the one si de there is the Catholic Church, reasonable, logical, its first and its last conclusions marching together in perfect step; on the other side there is . . . well Babel is the best word for it. Our position, the Catholic position, is so remarkably sound and sane and common-sense that your reading and advanced study serve only to make you more calm, assured, and absolutely convinced of your position. But on the other sides you have every conceivable conflict of mind and practice and theory and conduct; you have every possible outpouring from new prophet and new novelist, and new thinker and new psychologist, all of whom, by the way, have the most surprising habit of burrowing in the rags and scraps of the past.

“An expert knows what is old and what is new; he knows exactly where he stands, and that makes it possible for him to evaluate the other chaps properly.

“Are you in the position of expert?”

“Obviously not,” said Sue.

“Most decidedly not,” added Dick.

NOT FOR BEGINNERS

“Well, if you were interested in the higher studies of astronomy, you’d certainly make it a point to become an expert in correct and accepted astronomy before you undertook side excursions into astrology, ancient or modern, or into the theory that the sun moves around the earth, or into the field of the Sunday-supplement astronomical nonsense. Your chemistry professor would be amazed and annoyed if he found that you were playing around with alchemy or the chemistry that is popularised by the Weird Story magazine. And if you should decide to go to medical school, believe me you’ll find that you’ll have to master orthodox medicine before you can start experimenting with all the mad medicines and quack theories that the cranks of the ages have used and that modern cranks still use to obscure correct medical thinking and practice.

“Some day, I hope, you’ll be expert in your religion, expert enough to recognise almost instinctively truth from error. I”m perfectly willing to read about the other sides with you. I think that your Catholic religion professors and philosophy teachers give the adversaries, as we inclusively call them, a fair deal. But if you start scurrying around now, trying to read about even a minor portion of the other sides, you’ll be doing nothing more profitable than filling your mind with a kind of dead weight, stuff that is obsolete even before it is digested.”

ONE-SIDED

He paused.

“What I”m going to say now isn’t true of you, of course.”

“It probably is, if you’re going to say something devastating,” suggested Sue, who was feeling a little cheap about the whole business.

“Shoot ahead,” Dick said. “Whatever it is, I”ve got it coming to me.”

“Well,” said the priest, “whenever I hear a Catholic say, “I want to read the other side,” I am almost always absolutely sure of this one thing: That Catholic doesn’t read his own side.”

“Oh, come now!” protested the twins.

“It’s true. I know all sorts of Catholics who do just that. They give the other side every possible show. They read the secular newspaper reports on Catholic countries. They read H.G. Wells. But do they read the Catholic commentary on those countries? Do they read Belloc’s reply to Wells? They become breathless trying to keep pace with the other sides, not because the other sides are convincing, but because the other sides are fashionable, the craze of the minute, the best seller of the hour, the conversational topic of the cocktail bars and bridge tables.

“As a matter of fact these Catholics would be much more outstanding if they roan up on the Catholic side. Then, when another side was being discussed, they wouldn’t have to follow along, parrot-like, with the crowd. They would have something different to offer. They would be contributing to the conversation a slant on a side about which no one else in the group knew anything. They would be the instigators of delightful controversies. And they would be young apostles of truth.”

SO MUCH TO LEARN

The trio same in sight of the rectory. The spreading trees on the lawn looked dark and mysterious as the moon touched their upper leaves as if with quicksilver and plunged the boles and the entire grounds into gloom.

“Come in and have lemonade and cookies?” invited the priest, questioningly.

“Better be getting back,” said Dick; and Sue agreed.

The priest nodded, and the three slackened their pace.

“There’s so much a Catholic ought to know about his own side before he should so much as give a thought to another side. There are so many fundamental things that he ought to be sure about first.

DO YOU KNOW?

“Can he for example prove conclusively that there is a personal God?

“Is he convinced from reason that he has a soul?

“What reason has he for being certain that there is a fundamental difference between right and wrong? And what makes right right and wrong wrong?

“Precisely why has he given his allegiance to Jesus Christ?

“Could he demonstrate historically that the Catholic Church is the Church of Christ?

“Is he intellectually persuaded that Christianity has been and still is a good thing for humanity?

“What evidence can he offer to prove that the Church has benefited the human race? And in what way has the Church wrought these benefits?

“Can he prove that Christian moral practice has bettered the individual and the race?

FIRM STAND FIRST

“Those are just a few of the fundamental questions that he should be able to answer But if the young man or the young woman isn’t equipped to answer those questions clearly, then when his or her faith is confronted with the brilliant writing of an heretical author who may not even believe what he preaches, that faith is in grave peril. That shaky faith will take a bad beating from the smart arguments of almost any clever leader of another side. And the man or woman whose Faith has been reduced to such slipperiness and uncertainty needs only a good hard shove to send him or her dizzily reeling to any side.

“Chesterton has somewhat said this in effect: There is only one side on which you can stand firmly; there are a thousand sides from which or into whichyou can slip and fall.”

WHAT OF THE BOOKS?

Dick looked up and held out his hand.

“I”11 take the books back to the library in the morning,” he said.

“Nonsense,” laughed Father Hall. “The two of you bring “em down here, and we’ll sit on the back lawn and find out what the chap has to say for his side.”

“Mean it?” demanded Sue, breathlessly.

“Why, of course.”

Dick and Sue laughed delightedly.

“Sure,” questioned Dick, in hushed tones, “that you yourself aren’t afraid to read that other side?”

HERE WE STAND

“Dick,” said the priest, “if the Catholic Church were here, where I am standing, and if across the road there were a united army, bound together by one magnificent philosophy and one great set of principles, ready to battle shoulder to shoulder for what they were convinced was the truth, perhaps I might have my moments of worry. But here we are, we Catholics, united in all the essentials, unswerving in our devotion to an historic truth, aware of the time-old heresies that lie buried so far in the past that even their tombs are misty. And there are the armies of our enemies, our adversaries, who agree in nothing, are united on nothing, call one another the most violent names, hold every conceivable shade of dissenting opinion, sing their doctrines in every note in the long gamut of a grand piano, and get together in name only, a name that is the most ridiculous of negatives-NonCatholics.”

“Do you think I could be intimidated by a situation like that?”

“There is only one side, the Catholic side.”

“And opposed to that side are a million other sides, angles of every shape and size and degree. But you can’t take a million mad angles and make. them into any one side.”“

With that Father Hall started to enter the rectory. Then he turned and waved at the twins as they walked off under the moonlight.

Nihil obstat:

J. DONOVAN,

Censor Deputatus

Imprimatur:

@ D. MANNIX,

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis.

********

Letter To A Lapsed Catholic

BY VERY REV. F. J. RIPLEY, C. M. S

INDEX

MY DEAR FRIEND, -I am a Catholic priest. For ten years I have been preaching missions all over England and Wales. Before that I was a curate in Liverpool for eight years and a Chaplain in the Royal Air Force for three.

My travels have brought me into contact with many people who were baptised in the Catholic Church but have ceased to practise. We call them”lapsed “.

If you happen to be one of them this letter is addressed personally to you.

The vast majority of lapsed Catholics I have met have told me that they still believed in the Church. They would never contemplate dying without the Last Sacraments; they intended to return”sometime” but not just yet.

If you are sincere you will agree that these people are taking a grave risk. Our Lord has warned us that death will come like a thief in the night and that we know neither the day nor the hour of its coming.

Most priests will tell you of those to whom they have been called suddenly. I could tell of many. My own dear mother was found dead in bed one Tuesday morning in 1916 at the early age of 34. Thank God she was well prepared.

Why have you ceased to practise? Perhaps your parents never set you a good example. When you left school you gave up church as well. Or, maybe, you gradually fell into the ranks of the lapsed, missing Mass occasionally at first, then more and more frequently, then missing Confession and Easter Duties, and then-well, you found yourself lapsed almost without realising it.

Shall we put it down to ignorance? Are you really convinced that the Catholic Church is different from all other churches? That the Catholic Church was founded by Jesus Christ, who was God Himself, whereas all the others were set up by men? That the Catholic Church teaches you, pardons you, guides you, makes you holy and leads you to heaven by the authority of Christ Himself, who is God?

THE LOVE OF CHRIST

Yes, God became Man because He loved us. He was hidden within His Mother’s womb. He lay in the manger’s straw, He lived in St Joseph’s cottage, He preached and did miracles, He suffered terribly and died cruelly because He loves us, you and me and all men. He said:”Greater love than this no man hath than that a man lay down his life for his friends.” He calls you and me His friends.

Is not that quite wonderful-that God Himself should want us to be His friends? That is why He died for us. Look at the picture of Christ on the Cross in this booklet. See His hands and feet pierced by nails, see His side wounded and open, see His head dug with sharp thorns, see His body covered with the scourges” stripes, see His face bowed and His eyes closed in death. Is it not a picture that speaks to us of infinite love?

When I was about to be ordained my family gave me a chalice with which to say Mass. The silversmith who made it asked me to choose a text to be engraved around the cup. I did. I see it now every morning when I raise my chalice before my eyes during Mass. It is this:”He loved me and delivered Himself for me.”

The love of Jesus is just as personal as that. Think of what else He has done for us. He made us, you and me, in preference to countless others whom He has not made and never will make. He made us because He wants us to be His companions in infinite happiness for ever and ever.

God does not want to have to damn you. He died to save you from damnation. If you do go to hell-which God forbid-it will be through your own deliberate fault, through rejecting the graces He offers you, possibly through refusing the appeal of this letter.

I say God does not want you to go to hell. He died to save you from that. He gave Himself to the very last drop of His precious Blood. How are you repaying that infinite generosity?

He has done much more. He has hidden Himself under the appearances of bread and wine because He wants to be the food of your soul. He has given His priests power to forgive your sins because He wants you to come back to Him. He put His Church here among us and preserved it from error to guide you safely to heaven. He shows you His own Sacred Heart, burning with love but wounded, bleeding, crowned with thorns and surmounted by His Cross, saying :”Look at my Heart which loves you so much. If only you will love Me in return I will regard all I have done for you as nothing.”

As sincerely and as kindly as I know how, I ask you to think now about these things. Thought and prayer today may make all the difference between heaven and hell hereafter.

Ours is a religion of love, not of fear. Being a good Catholic is not just a matter of regular attendance at Sunday Mass and the Sacraments. It should be an effort to love our dear Lord in return for His unbelievable love of us.

He loves us so much that He has made His own mother our mother, too. She loves us with all the love of the most perfect and tenderest of mothers. As you read these lines she is praying her Son that you will return to the regular reception of the Sacraments. She knows that you are one of her lapsed children. She understands you through and through. She feels your every need. She cannot see you separated from her Son and not pray that you will return.

If you honestly believe that you have forgotten much of what you ought to know about the Faith you can easily make up for lost time. The best plan would be to call on a priest and ask him to go over things again with you. Or you could easily obtain a book of instructions or read the pamphlets of the. . . . Whatever else you do, please start going to Mass every Sunday. Do not put it off any longer. Every Sunday Mass missed means another mortal sin. Once you begin to go again you will be surprised how soon everything comes back and you begin to understand.

THEY DIED FOR THE FAITH

Do you ever think about those who died rather than deny the Faith you have ceased to practise? They have lived in every century since Christ’s own day. As you read this letter Catholics are imprisoned in their thousands behind the iron and bamboo curtains because they refuse to deny their Faith.

Think for a moment of a young housewife of York. She was a convert with a non-Catholic husband and three children. She had been condemned to death for sheltering priests in her home. Now, on March 25th 1585, the awful sentence was to be carried out. In the Toll Booth on the Ousebridge all was ready.”Mrs. Clitherow,” said the Sheriff, “you must remember and confess that you die for treason.” “No, no, Mr. Sheriff,” she replied “I die for the love of my Lord Jesu.” She lay on her back; they stretched out her arms in the shape of a cross and tied her hands to stakes in the floor; they put a sharp stone under her spine and put a heavy door on top of her. Four hired beggars then began to lay -weights on the door. As she felt them the bystanders heard her praying: “Jesu! Jesu! Jesu! have mercy on me!” For about fifteen minutes she suffered the agony; the watchers saw a pool of blood slowly forming on the floor. If you go to York you can see her hand, preserved at the Bar Convent. The closely clasped fingers will speak to you of what she suffered. Why? Because she loved the Faith that you are not practising. She was only one of many who loved it more than life itself.

THE MORAL LAW

Perhaps ignorance is not your trouble. You may be quite convinced of the truth of the Catholic Church but still not practising.

Are you one of those who find it hard to live up to the Church’s moral teaching? Our Lord said”The spirit is willing but the flesh is weak.” We all know how true it is.

Yet, the Church’s moral teaching, based on God’s commandments, is, like her doctrine, God’s truth. We cannot pick and choose. We must accept everything.”He that heareth you, heareth me,” said Our Lord, and “Whatsoever you shall bind on earth shall be bound also in heaven.”

God tells us to keep the Sabbath holy. It is the Church which tells us on His authority that the Sabbath is Sunday and we must keep it holy by hearing Mass and not doing servile work.

God cannot make laws which are impossible or too hard or not good for us. If you buy something new-a car, a television set, a pressure-cooker-you must follow the maker’s instructions if you wish to get the most out of it. So it is with us. God made us. We must follow His instructions. That means keeping His law. If we do so we shall get the best out of ourselves, life and the world.

God does not make laws without helping us to keep them. He is not a slave-driver, threatening us all the time with punishment. He is a Father, infinitely wise, kind, good and loving. He wants us to save our souls infinitely more than we do ourselves. He wants you to resolve now to come back to your Church.

Think of what He says to us through His Prophet in the Bible:”You shall be carried at the breasts, and upon the knees they shall caress you. As one whom the mother caresseth, so will I comfort you.” Have you ever thought of it that way before-of yourself as a little child being carried through life like a tiny baby being loved in its mother’s lap or upon her knee?

“God is faithful who will not suffer you to be tempted above that which you are able,” St. Paul tells us, “but will make also with temptation issue that you may be able to bear it.” Is it not rather wonderful that God has told us these things- for example that we know for certain that however weak we feel, we are, with His help, stronger than the strongest temptation and always able to overcome it? We should ask for that help. He is waiting to be asked. He wants us to trust Him just as the tiniest child trusts its father and mother.

It is so very easy to fall into bad habits. Sometimes young people find that they have them almost before they realise it. They are afraid of going to confession. A long time goes by; then confession is harder than ever. Worse still, perhaps a bad confession has been made. We priests understand these things. We long to be allowed to help such people back to the straight and narrow path by pronouncing over them the words of absolution in the confessional. We do everything the Church allows us to do to make the way back home as short and easy as possible. Of course, sorrow for sin is essential.

SMOKE-SCREENS

During the war ships being pursued by the enemy used to hide themselves in a smoke-screen. We priests come across a lot of excuses which are just about as solid as the smoke-screens. Here are some examples:”I never go to Mass, Father, but I am as good as those who go.” We know well enough that the person who says that does not really believe it; nobody in his senses would be so foolish. It is just self-deceit, a bold front, a mechanism of escape from a guilty conscience. The person who goes to Mass is at least doing his first duty to God.

“I don’t go to Mass because I have no time; the family comes first.” When he hears this one the priest thinks of the dozens of excellent large Catholic families he knows in which neither parent would ever dream of missing Mass. Their children are not neglected: quite the opposite. Devotion to the Church unites the family and brings God’s blessing on all the members.

“I want a rest on Sunday morning; I work hard all week.” Nowadays there are so many evening Masses that this excuse is usually no more weighty than the air required to make it. Even if there is no evening Mass it is surely not a hardship to be in church by eleven or twelve o‘clock. When we remember that the Mass is the sacrifice of Calvary we see how unworthy such an excuse really is.

“ IF YOU HAD BEEN TREATED LIKE THAT”

“If you had been treated by the Church like I have, you would not go to Mass yourself.” It has been said only too often. Ninety-nine times out of a hundred it is one more example of the smoke-screen. On investigation it turns out to be a worthless excuse. The alleged slights and injuries were merely imaginary or there was some sort of misunderstanding.

Many priests have had the experience-I certainly have-of being accused of directing their remarks from the pulpit at certain individuals, when, in fact, the thought of these people never so much as entered the priest’s head.

It is so easy to make mountains out of molehills. It is amazing how really trifling matters are allowed to come between people and priest and so between souls and God.

But you insist that your grievance is genuine. The priest really did scold you when you went to confession; he really did refuse to baptise your sister’s baby; he really did forbid the organ to be played at your daughter’s wedding. I know of a man who gave up the practice of his Faith as a boy over 50 years ago out of a sense of loyalty to his father who felt that his family had been insulted from the pulpit.

First of all, do remember that in some of these things the priest has no option. He has to do the hard thing because it is the Church’s law or the bishop’s ruling. These regulations are made for the good of the whole Church or the well-being of the flock in a certain district. The priest is not allowed to make exceptions in order to remain or become popular. In fact, he might easily commit a grievous sin by failing to obey.

But, you still insist, in your case the priest was certainly wrong. Well, suppose he was. God did not choose angels to be His ministers. We priests are flesh and blood like yourself. We have our failings as you have yours. We go to confession frequently to acknowledge our sins before God. That priest about whom you complain has given up life in the world, left his parents, refused marriage, sacrificed himself in many ways to bring you the blessings of the Faith.

No man is perfect. I am not; you are not. But you ought to try to think of every priest trying hard to love, serve and help his people. Your parish priest often prays for you. He says Masses for you. He knows he will have to give an account to God of how he has looked after you. He is anxious and worried when he knows you are not going to church. How do you return all this? Do you pray for him? Do you co-operate with him? Do you try to help him in his work?

In the particular matter about which you complain, have you heard his side of the story? Have you talked it over with him? If you are sure you are not blaming him excessively you ought to try to forgive and forget.

That priest is not the Catholic Church. By staying away from your duties because of something, real or imaginary, said or done by a priest you are punishing yourself and meriting God’s condemnation. You will be the first to agree that to do harm to yourself because of something that has offended you is really very foolish. You probably still say your prayers: “Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive them that trespass against us.” Do you expect God to forgive you when you persist in holding this thing against one of his priests?

MISSED GRACES

Think of all the graces you are missing. Our Blessed Lord, who is your greatest Lover and your best Friend, who will one day be your final Judge, begs you to allow Him to enter your soul often in Holy Communion. You reply, in effect if not in words,”No, Lord; my soul is closed to you.”

In the Mass He has made present every day in your parish church the sacrifice of Calvary, the greatest act of all time, the climax of all history, when God gave His life because He loved His creatures so much. But you say:”Christ, keep your Calvary; I am not interested in being present beneath your Cross.”

On the day He rose from the dead Our Lord appeared to His Apostles and gave them power to forgive our sins, saying: “Receive ye the Holy Ghost whose sins you shall forgive, they are forgiven them and whose sins you shall retain, they are retained.” Week after week the priest sits in the confessional forgiving in Christ’s name, removing the one thing which stands between souls and eternal life. He is waiting for you. But you are saying by your actions:”Lord, keep your forgiveness; I don’t want it. I shall not ask for it.”

Am I being a little too strong? I would love to think so. You intend to ask Christ’s forgiveness someday, do you not? Then why not now? Why do you go on offending our dear Lord? Why go on crucifying Him again?

“ CRUCIFYING CHRIST”

“Crucifying Him?” Yes, indeed. Mortal sin, like missing Mass or your Easter duties, is just that-crucifying Christ. The Holy Spirit tells us so through St Paul, writing to the Hebrews: grave sinners, those who”are fallen away” are “crucifying again to themselves the Son of God, and making him a mockery.” That means, in everyday language, that when you deliberately and without an adequate excuse miss Mass on Sunday, instead of watching at the foot of the Cross with Our Lady and St John, you join the Roman soldiers or the Jewish priests, help to drive the nails into Christ’s flesh and add to their mockery of Him.

I have never yet met any person whom I could believe would consciously wish to crucify Christ again. I cannot believe that a person of that sort would read this letter of mine. I do honestly believe that most lapsed Catholics are being unworthy to themselves for just as long as they refuse to come back home. The consequences to themselves of every week’s delay are so incalculable that, did they but realise it, they would never afflict themselves so.

BIRTH PREVENTION

During the last twenty years I have come across a number of people who have ceased to receive the Sacraments or even to go to church because of the Catholic teaching on birth prevention. You may be in the same category. At least half of those with whom I have discussed the problem had wrong ideas on the subject. Most of the others would have found a chat with an understanding priest most helpful.

If you are worried on this point one or two suggestions may help you. This is not a booklet on birth control and it is beyond my scope to deal with the subject fully.

Please do not think we priests do not understand your difficulty. Indeed we do understand. We are advising people about it-even our own close relatives-every day of our lives. Nobody comes into such close contact with these human problems as the Catholic priest.

Remember that the Church exists to bring God’s life and truth to men. She is bound to teach and interpret God’s law to us. She knows that what she teaches about birth prevention is the law God has implanted in nature and that all men everywhere, Christian and non-Christian, are bound by it. It is not for you and me to pick and choose in God’s laws, obeying those we like and disobeying those we dislike or find difficult.

It is not strictly true to say that the Church forbids birth”control.” Husband and wife are bound to govern their intimate relationship, like everything else, by the cardinal virtue of prudence. No human activity is exempt from that virtue. It implies self-control. It requires that every important circumstance and condition be taken into account. God’s grace, given to married people as a right through the Sacrament of Matrimony, is always available to enable them to practise prudence.

Here we arrive at the fundamental answer to the problem. Christian marriage is a Sacrament. When you knelt before the altar on your wedding day you staked your claim with Almighty God to all the helps He will give you to keep His laws in marriage. You have a strict right to those helps, which we call sacramental graces. There is no possible difficulty for which they are not available for you.

If your difficulty is this popular one about birth prevention be fair to yourself. Talk it over with a priest in or out of the confessional. I believe that you want to get back to the Sacraments and that if you have deliberately offended God you are really sorry.

There are circumstances in which the prevention of conception may not be the responsibility of one of the partners. The other, possibly in inculpable ignorance especially if he or she is a non-Catholic, may insist on it. The Catholic’s position is difficult, but it should never be a reason for staying away from church or joining the legions of the lapsed.

If you are sure you really understand the Church’s teaching on the use of marriage, if you have read booklets about it (like the Pope’s encyclical letter on”Christian Marriage” or Bishop Dwyer’s pamphlet called”Birth Control”, both published by the . . . ) and have talked it over fully with a priest and still refuse to try to live up to it, I simply beg of you to be fair. Do not consider the teaching apart from the Sacrament nor the difficulties apart from God’s grace. Remember that God cannot command the impossible; He is always the same good, wise, loving and just Father; we must trust Him as docile, affectionate, little children.”Unless you be converted and become as little children,” Our Lord warns us,”you shall not enter into the kingdom of heaven.”

I am sure of this-if you really understand what the Catholic Church teaches us on this subject you must admit that it is most reasonable and the best for all concerned. God made marriage. The surest way to happiness in marriage is to find out the laws of its Maker and, with His grace, given through the Sacrament, keep them.

MARRIED OUT OF THE CHURCH

Perhaps you were married out of the Church. I have met many people who have done what you have done. Very, very few of them were not, deep down in their hearts, worried and anxious to come back home. Probably your marriage can be put right; do please see a priest about it as soon as you can. You will be the first to agree with me that it is foolish to go on living in sin. Sin never pays. Why delay? Why deny yourself all the graces you might so easily be receiving through Confession and Holy Communion?

You may, of course, be one of those whose marriage cannot be put right. Perhaps your first partner is still alive or you are married to a divorcee, whose partner is living. You have made a grievous mistake, but that does not prevent your finding out how you stand. In rare cases it is possible to rectify unions such as yours appears to be owing to the invalidity of a previous marriage. In any case, you ought to attend Mass, say your prayers and, especially, try to make frequent and fervent acts of sorrow for your sin.

Our Blessed Lord does not change. He lives in the Church still, always the same, merciful Saviour, always anxious to forgive sinners, always offering them the grace of repentance.

THE MERCY OF CHRIST

Think of the unforgettable story of the Prodigal Son: the young man who took his money, left his father’s home and went off to see life in the world. When famine came, his friends deserted him. He found himself looking after pigs, forced to share their swill to keep body and soul together. (Incidentally, what a description of sin that is! Our Lord must have chosen the pig for the story deliberately because the Jews regarded it as unclean. The young man, He says,”filled his belly with the husks the swine did eat.” Think about that. Those who refuse the Bread of Angels in their Father’s House may be doing that very same thing.) Then he realised what a young fool he was, that even his father’s servants were living better than he was. He returned home-and what a welcome his father gave him! The same welcome from your heavenly Father is waiting for you now in the Church. Do not delay your home-coming.

Are you afraid to take the step? Think of Our Lord again. He is in the forecourt of the Temple being questioned by some of the Jews. Another group comes along pushing towards Him a poor woman. They say”Master, this woman was even now taken in adultery. Now Moses in the law commanded us to stone such a one. But what sayest thou?”Our Lord said nothing but bent down and wrote with His finger in the dust on the ground. They went on demanding a decision. Standing upright He looked right at them and said” He that is without sin among you, let him first cast a stone at her.” Again He bent down and wrote in the dust. One by one her accusers slunk away.Jesus and the woman were soon alone. “Then Jesus lifting up Himself, said to her: Woman, where are they that accuse thee? Hath no man condemned thee? Who said: No man, Lord. And Jesus said: Neither will I condemn thee. Go, and now sin no more.” Jesus is still the same.

Think of Mary Magdalen throwing herself at His feet. Listen to His merciful words :”Many sins are forgiven her because she hath loved much.” Recall His moving story of the shepherd who left the ninety-nine sheep in the pen to go and look for that which had strayed.”Rejoice with me,” He said, “because I have found my sheep that was lost. I say to you, that even so there shall be joy in heaven upon one sinner that doeth penance, more than upon ninety-nine just who need not penance.” And: “They that are whole need not the physician but they that are sick. I came not to call the just, but sinners to penance.”

SCANDAL

Somebody has said, with a lot of wisdom, that saints never go to heaven or sinners to hell alone. They always take others with them.

You, who have not been going to church, may be a parent. God has given you children as keepsakes for heaven. He has entrusted them to you to have their feet set firmly on the straight and narrow path. It is your privilege to prepare them for eternal life.

You may tell them to go to church but your words will be useless unless your example shows them that you mean what you say. An ounce of good example is worth a ton of words. You cannot forget the severe words of our gentle Saviour used of those who scandalise His little ones:”It were better for him that a millstone should be hanged about his neck, and that he should be drowned in the depth of the sea.” Do you deserve that condemnation of Christ?

It is never too late to come back home. Our Lord is waiting now to welcome and forgive. He loves you with an infinite love. He wants you to go to heaven infinitely more than you want it yourself.

In the confessional the priest waits. He is most strictly bound to treat you as kindly, as mercifully, as compassionately, as lovingly, as understandingly as the father in the parable received home his erring but repentant son. He is bound to be to sinners, as far as he can, like His Master was to the adulterous woman or to Mary Magdalen.

Do not be afraid. Even a lifetime of great sin is removed by the priest in a few moments. He will not upbraid or blame or rebuke. He will, like the prodigal’s father, rejoice”because this my son was dead, and is come to life again: was lost, and is found.” He will thank God for allowing him to be the channel of forgiveness.

CONFESSION

Many years ago an old monk told me a story. I tell it to you now in the hope that it will help you. A woman who had been away from the Sacraments for a long time had been persuaded by a very saintly old priest to go to confession. The reason why she had not been was one very grave and sordid sin she had committed as a young woman. She was so ashamed and so embarrassed that she could not bring herself to tell it in confession. However, on this occasion she knelt there, fully determined to tell all. The priest blessed her. She told her sins but, unfortunately and unwisely, left the cause of all her trouble to the end. Only that had to be told when she paused. It just would not come out. All the old fear, shame and embarrassment surged up within her.”Is that all?” asked the priest quietly and gently after a few moments of silence. She was just about to answer”Yes,” when she raised her eyes. Instead of seeing through the flimsy, purple curtain the dim shape of the priest’s head, she saw quite clearly the thorn-crowned head of Christ.

That story may help you. It certainly illustrates what confession is. We, you and I, tell our sins to the priest, not for his own sake, but because he represents Christ our Lord.”If your sins be as scarlet, they shall be made white as snow,” the Holy Ghost tells us through the Prophet,”and if they be red as crimson, they shall be white as wool.”

Do not delay any longer. Make that humble, sincere confession as soon as you can. Receive Christ, with all His blessings, in Holy Communion. Your return to the Church will be one of the most wonderful things in your life.

I shall remember every day in my Mass all the lapsed Catholics who have read these lines. If they have helped you, I beg you to say a little prayer now for

Yours sincerely and devotedly in Christ,

Letter-Stories In Honour of Our Lady of Perpetual Succour Part 1

EDITED AND PUBLISHED BY REV. FATHER BOLTON

OF ST. AMBROSE’S CHURCH. NEWMARKET, BRISBANE

INDEX

FOREWORD . . . BY SIR HENRY WINDSOR F.R.C.S., KNIGHT OF ST. GREGORY

I welcome a further contribution to the series of letter-stories in honour of Our Lady of Perpetual Succour from the pen of a priest I know well. The book has the quality of a missionary crusade created by Apostolic zeal and supplemented by a method which is incisive and which pin-points basic fact with great effect. Each story whether of misery, disappointment, courage or disaster is a sublime word of spiritual intervention and the peace it brings. One or other of these letters has a personal application to each of us for at times we have experienced similar episodes without perhaps recognising the spiritual significance because our minds have been burdened by worldly cares. Men have often laid aside their cares in search of spiritual happiness as participants in pilgrimages to sacred shrines but man will only make of the world a shrine when he makes of his life a pilgrimage. Such is the message of these letters and its basis is devotion to Our Lady of Perpetual Succour. We can never assess the reward of this devotion but we will be conscious of it in our being, and supremely happy in its promise, for Our Lady of Perpetual Succour will assuredly provide us with the guidance and protection that will mollify our lives and sanctify our duties on our pilgrimage to the glories of everlasting life.

Luke the Evangelist painted Me. .

The claim that St. Luke painted the original of the famous picture of Our Lady of Perpetual Succour comes from inference as well as from historical consideration. St. Luke was a doctor of medicine and a most learned man. His gospel was written in classical Greek. He loved to paint portraits yet some will have us believe that during the years after the Resurrection of Christ whilst our Lady was alive and with whom Luke was in frequent contact, he did not paint her portrait. People in the time of Christ loved the portrait as much as the written word. Luke by profession and by his character was a personality who did what he thought best. Reasonable consideration demands that he painted the Mother of Christ. 1f he wrote, surely he painted? Again the strong tie of devotion that the early Christians had for Christ’s Mother guarded a likeness common to all her pictures. This basic likeness is apparent in the icons of Russia and Constantinople and the ancient images of Our Lady at Jerusalem, Antioch and the catacombs of Rome. Place the pictures of Our Lady of Perpetual Succour and Our Lady of Vladimir side by side and the likeness is quite obvious. Painters like St. Luke put on canvas to the best of their ability what was presented to their gaze. The era of the abstract was unknown. The icon of Our Lady of Perpetual Succour came to Australia principally from Ireland. There it had been hallowed by blood and persecution. It is thus easy to appreciate why it is loved by Australian Catholic hearts. Even in our great love of Our Lady of Perpetual Succour it must not be forgotten that all icons ancient or modern have the sole objective of increasing our devotion to Christ’s Mother.

The First Prophecy

I will place enmities between thee and the Woman, between thy seed and Her seed. She shall crush thy head and thou shalt lie in wait for Her heel.

Genesis ch. 3, v. 15.

THE VISION

Hast thou stayed, I must have fled.

He was an old priest and on Friday afternoons liked to stay in his room at the presbytery and devote an hour before the Shrine of Our Lady of Perpetual Succour. He looked upon it as “his private holy devotion for the week.” Sometimes he would pray continuously, sometimes he would read and sometimes he would sit and meditate. It depended on his mood. His hour’s devotion grew more compelling and appealing as he grew older. He did not like to be interrupted. In fact no interruption had occurred for his housekeeper (his sister) protected his privacy. However, one Friday afternoon his “phone kept ringing persistently, for his sister was ill. When he answered it, .he was told that a boy of sixteen who had T.B. for years had suffered a haemorrhage but had recovered. The doctor had advised there was no need for alarm or anxiety and so there was no need to hurry. The priest did not wish his devotions to be broken, so he said he would go around to the home after his evening meal. He went back to his room but found the bright glow and enthusiasm which had previously activated his devotions had departed. He looked at his Shrine but Our Lady had lost for him her usual appeal. In his annoyance he accidentally knocked over and broke one of the glass vases of flowers on his Shrine.

He seemed to feel that something was wrong. All his life he had loved a poem which the Christian Brothers of Gregory Terrace, Brisbane, in his school days had taught him. The Sisters of the Good Samaritan in his convent school often selected the poem for the principal item of recitation at their annual concert, for they knew how often he quoted it and how much it appealed to him. The poem told of a monk who was in his cell saying his prayers. Christ appeared. The startled monk marvelled and prayed with greater intensity, but Christ did not speak. The Monastery bell rang calling the monk away from prayer to do his duty. He became upset for he did not wish to leave the “Vision” and yet he knew he should obey the rule of the monastery. Finally he decided to go where duty lead and do what his rule commanded. He went and gave out the pieces of bread which had been set aside for the poor waiting at the monastery gate. Afterwards he came back to his cell and Christ was still there. All that the “Vision” said was “Hadst thou stayed I must have fled.” The priest now thinking of the poem became alarmed and felt an urge that he should go quickly and see the sick boy. He thought that by delaying he might be keeping the “Vision” away from the boy. He went, gave the last rites of the Church to the boy, who was now much better, and slowly walked back to his presbytery. He kept thinking how wonderfully holy was the expression on the boy’s face when he received the Christ he loved so well. As he entered, the “phone rang and he was told the boy had died whilst he was walking back. There had been a second haemorrhage.

He went to his room and Our Lady seemed to be radiant again. He sat down and thought of Christ’s words to the monk “Hadst thou stayed, I must have fled.” In the last years of his life the silent lesson often came to his mind for he was a very holy priest andhe did not wish his own “Vision” of Christ to flee from him. One of his first acts after the incident was to quietly give away all he owned to holy causes. He died at the Mater Hospital, Brisbane, and someone who knew his love for the holy poem remarked that the Vision of Christ seemed to be very near him during the last moments of his life. The sole person he told of the incident was his aged sister who lived some years after his death.

P.S. The priest around whom the letter revolves was the late Rt. Rev. Monsignor F. Burton of Wilston, Brisbane.

2

FROM A HOME NEAR TULLAMORE

On September 5th, 1960, a Sister of Mercy was buried at the Catholic Cemetery at Nudgee, Brisbane. Another Sister of Mercy at the funeral quietly put a small parcel and letter in the pocket of a priest. The letter asked the priest to keep the picture of Our Lady of Perpetual Succour and to remember the deceased nun in his masses and prayers. The ancient picture in its gold frame had been richly prized and reverently cherished. A few priests, some nuns and some orphan children were present at the graveside. There was also present one of Brisbane’s most renowned surgeons. That is how this story originated.

She was only sixteen years of age and she stood with forty-eight other girls and two nuns at the back of the Irish packet-boat which was preparing to leave Dublin for Liverpool across the Irish Channel. She had journeyed to Dublin from her home near Tullamore. The year was 1924. The nuns were Sisters Mary Damien and Brendan of All Hallow’s Convent, Brisbane, Australia. A large number of relatives and friends stood on the wharf. Practically every eye had the glitter of a tear for the forty-nine were leaving their homeland to labour for the cause of Christ in distant Queensland, which was many thousands of miles away.

The whistle sounded, the ropes were cast off and the packet-boat began to move. At a signal from one of the nuns the fortynine started the hymn “Hail, Queen of Heaven.” A stillness came down on ship and wharf. Every man took off his hat. All knew something of great consequence was happening to the lives of the forty-nine young girls. The number of missionaries in the exodus may not have been the greatest to leave the shores of Ireland, but the exodus was still a great spiritual adventure even when one considered the historical European monasteries thronged with Irish monks; and the countless Irish priests, brothers and nuns labouring in the mission fields of the world. Forty-nine young lives dedicated to God even without uniforms could not be despised. They were bringing timely and heavenly aid for the Cross of Christ to a distant land where it was greatly needed.

The boat gathered speed and journeyed out over the .channel. The young girl of sixteen years who waited with the others at the back of the boat to catch a last glimpse of her relatives and friends on the wharf and of Ireland before it faded away, held in her hand a picture of Our Lady of Perpetual Succour. She gripped it tightly for its roots went deep into the heart of the home she had recently left. Her mother had given her the small picture in its golden frame and told her “never to lose it.” It had been in the family home a very long time.

Now in Australia for nearly forty years the picture had been lovingly kept and had ever inspired by holy ideals and childhood memories the young girl who had become a Sister of Mercy in the Archdiocese of Brisbane. At her work in a hospital, an asylum, an orphanage, and in the ups-and-downs of daily life she had placed her confidence in her Lady with its golden frame. She kept it hidden but it always gave her strength and uplift in difficulties and upsets. It kept the holy adventure of her life on a high spiritual level. The picture brought back recollections of her childhood days in her home near Tullamore, Ireland, and of simple joys and sorrows shared with her many brothers and sisters. In her picture she saw the green mountains and running streams which was the setting of that lovely hallowed spot. All the crimsons and purples of tropical lands could not compare with those green hills for they spelt home where she played as a child. In looking at her picture her thoughts might wander and fall back in reverie but despite distractions the Divine Mother with the Infant Jesus in her arms ever gazed steadfastly back in gentleness and affection at her devotion and sacrifice.

At the back of her picture in its strong golden frame there were three words, which always brought a lump into her throat and which were written by the hand of her Mother. They were “Ireland, Mother Ireland.” The nun always looked on the words as her mother’s silent cry of faith and love for her daughter in distant Queensland. Holy wisdom had inspired the hand of the Mother for she had rightly estimated the great spiritual power of Our Lady and the fierce maternal call of Ireland to one of her own when she gave the picture and wrote the words as a parting gift to her daughter. The ancient picture had been known in the family home as Our Lady of the Penal Times.

Now, at the end of life’s road in distant Queensland, at the Nudgee Catholic Cemetery, a small wh ite cross marks the grave of a Sister of Mercy, who was one of forty-nine, and who came from a home near famed Tullamore. The good fight was over and the crown of glory won. As the renowned surgeon remarked, her passing was sudden and tragic but she left a wealth of noble memories to her community due principally to a small picture of Our Lady hallowed by limitless personal love and ancient family ties.

P.S. The young girl who came from Tullamore received the religious name of Sister M. Gonzales in the community of the Sisters of Mercy, Brisbane. The ancient picture now belongs to a former Queensland girl once called Jane, who is a nun in a Carmelite Monastery in South Australia.

FROM THE GATE OF HELL

The priest was excited. He thought he had been watching Satan. The hallucination had been extraordinary. The scene was in an old spacious suburban house in Brisbane, and on a seat in the garden what appeared to be an evil figure was talking rapidly to a pretty young girl inviting her to go on a launch for a weekend in Moreton Bay. The priest was on the verandah of the house. Suddenly the hallucination faded and an ordinary young man of the city dressed in conventional clothes appeared. The priest was nonplussed. He knew both. The girl was a remarkably gifted commercial artist, and the young man had good business connections. He was supposed to be wealthy. He spent most of his spare time in gathering members for an organisation called “Peace Rally.” There seemed to be nothing wrong with its objective yet somehow it breathed forth the fetid air of Communism. It worked from a book arranged like a Catholic Catechism. There was question and answer. The main topic was “world peace” and this catch-cry was repeated like the refrain in a song. The girl consented to go on the launch trip. The priest told the mother that he considered the organisation degenerate and subversive and did not conceal his anxiety.

The launch picked up its passengers at Hamilton on the Brisbane River. It was a magnificent white launch -the most luxurious by far in Moreton Bay. During the journey down the river someone announced twenty-two young people aboard. They were very special young people. On arrival at Stradbroke Island they found camps already erected. Someone was master-minding everything.

The girl had encountered bitter opposition at her home for the mother was genuinely alarmed. She said sne did not like the bohemian atmosphere of the gathering and her mother’s intuition insisted there was a hidden motive behind the elaborate set-up. The island outing was enjoyed by all and was voted a great success.

Numerous speeches were made at the meetings but they were all innocuous. It was proposed that the camping weekend should be repeated. On the occasion of the fourth camp a Communistic ideal was blatantly expounded by one of the speakers. Objectors made their presence felt and the launch-owner was one of those who asked pertinent questions. No one suspected his bona fide. The daughter told the mother all that had happened for there were disturbing elements which made her uneasy in mind.

The mother was shocked that the daughter had repeatedly missed her Sunday Mass and was dismayed at the direction of events. She appealed to Our Lady of Perpetual Succour. She asked Our Lady for help in dealing with what appeared an undercover danger. “Undercover” was the priest’s word. She prayed continuously. Prayer had been taken for granted in the past but now she placed all her reliance on the Mother of Christ. Our Lady was the beacon-light in the darkness of these hidden manoeuvres. She did not know how to act. Nothing seemed tangible. Instinct told her that the launch-owner was the keyfigure and her daughter’s special friend. She was convinced that his opposition to communism was a cloak and assumed to allay suspicions.

Matters drifted for a time. Her daughter told her that a great rally was going to be held on the Island at Point Lookout to celebrate the approaching New Year. One hundred new adherents to the cause for “Peace” had been hand-picked and were going to the camp. Then the daughter dropped her bomb-shell. She told her mother that she was going to resign from the organisation and that as long as she lived she would not miss again her Sunday Mass. Her mother asked no questions. What caused the change in outlook, she did not find out. Something very vile and evil must have raised its head. The girl went to confession and Holy Communion. The New Year camp was big. There were 85 new members. Mass was said on the Island and the girl was present each Sunday. It was Christmas holiday time. At the inaugural Meeting when the girl announced her resignation the launch-owner became most abusive, but her friends shielded her against his verbal attack. Emotionally upset she and two girl friends went to Point Lookout as the New Year was about to commence. It was nearly midnight. The sea was calm-not a ripple on the waters and the moon in high glory lit everything like the sun during day. The tide was dead low. The girls climbed down nearly to the surging waters of the famous cove. Still the waters were thirty feet below them. Then it happened. A big freak wave struck. The Pacific Ocean is noted for these freak waves. The waters in the cove rose in a twinkling of an eye at least sixty feet and the girls were sucked out and down into the foaming upheaval. Their bodies were discovered in the morning light and all three were dead. They had been in the water some hours. The mother in Brisbane mourned her daughter but she had a great consolation for her daughter had recently come back to the practice of her Faith.

The young man who looked like Satan and worked like him fanatically for an evil cause prospered for some years but was found a few years ago dead in his great white launch. His face was quite black for he had hung himself. The priest who first became suspicious of the rich young man often wondered whence came the vast sums of money needed for the camps on the Island. The versicle “From the Gate of Hell” often came to his mind when he thought of the untimely death of the brilliant young artist and her two friends. The words “From the Gate of Hell” occur in the priest’s office and Mass for the dead. The liturgical response to the versicle is “Deliver. O Lord, their souls.”

4

THE JEW AND THE CHILD

The confirmation ceremony in the Church had been long but now it was nearly over. The boys from the parochial Christian Brothers” College had come first, then the girls from the Presentation College. They had advanced two by two to the High Altar, to be confirmed by the Archbishop and had gone back to their seats. Now a gasp came from the people and every head was raised. The common silence was broken by something unexpected. A little girl dressed in white was leading by the hand from the back of the Church an old man whose hair was white and whose clothes were very formal. They were walking very slowly up the main aisle of the Church. His Grace the Archbishop waited seated at the High Altar for the venerable figure to come and kneel before him on the altar step. The old man was a Jew and he was over ninety years. His journey up the long aisle seemed to proclaim that although the journey of life had been long, decisions long delayed had been made and finally reached: The setting presented an unforgettable picture to those present. The Mitred Archbishop and the great High Altar decorated with crimson flowers contrasted vividly with the kneeling old man and the child in white. The old man had come to receive the Sacrament of the Holy Ghost for he wished to become a strong and fervent Christian. He was a convert. The Sacrament greatly appealed to him as it would, he said, to any true Jew. Strong ideals had always guided the Chosen People, but two were dominant-the worship of the one true God and the expectation of the Messiah. Whenever the Jewish people lost these two ideals during their long history they eventually came back or were brought back by the strong hand of God. That was why they were selected as the “Chosen people.” They were chosen to guard the essential redeeming truths of fallen man. They had a covenant with God. Moses had given to them the Ten Commandments beaten on stone. The first was very direct. “I am the Lord Thy God, thou shalt not have strange Gods before me.” No other nation had kept loyal to this first principle of human living. They had all gone astray after false Gods or craven images. The Jews alone held on high the banner and worship of the One True God. Now that he was a Catholic, said the old Jew, he could not understand why his people had persistently set their minds against Christ who without doubt was the expected Messiah. Even today Jews cling to the worship of God the Creator, yet they refuse to flow along with the strong tide of their history and admit Christ. Yet who was greater than Christ? Who could sway the minds of men more than Christ? Who could do more good? Who could bring more holiness to life? Or who could give more bread to the poor? Who could grant forgiveness to evil? Who else could bring sap to dead wood? He was the Resurrection and the life. He was pre-eminent but they denied Him as their God and Messiah. Perhaps they had struck too evilly at Him whilst He walked amongst them. Perhaps the shadow of His blood had darkened for all time the mind of their nation. They certainly failed Him and cast him out.

At the dinner-table when he returned to his home one of his own asked him what made him finally take the step which brought him into the Catholic Church. Without hesitation he said, his wife and the way she lived her holy life. Her great devotion to the Mother of Christ was so heavenly that tears came into his eyes when he recalled it. She was always gentle and holy yet gave the impression of strength and courage. Many a time during their long life together, he thought how fortunate he was to have such a companion. He had been a business man and was often worried and upset. She calmed him and gave tranquillity to his thoughts. It was obvious to him that her power came from her devotion to the Virgin Mother of Christ. Finally, when he saw how she accepted death he determined to become a Catholic. It was recollection of her that gave him courage and dignity to walk up the aisle of the Church at the Confirmation Ceremony today, after the children of the Schools. He wished it that way, although the great priest of the parish desired to obtain for him a private bestowal. The old man lived for a few more years and those of his home will recall in memory as long as they live, the bent figure kneeling before the large statue of the Mother of Christ, which belonged to his wife and before which he said his Rosary. The way he said the great prayer was simple yet majestic like most things he did in life.

5

A HIGH MOUNTAIN HOME

I was a nurse in a children’s hospital for twenty -seven years. I specialised in Children’s complaints and was regarded highly by the hospital board. Indeed they asked me to apply for the matronship of the vast hospital but I refused, for I did not like office work or the exercise of authority.

For the last four years I have nursed in the surgical section. There was one ward set aside for diseases of the brain. I asked to be appointed to that ward. Most of the children there had little speech or they spoke in a blurred fashion. They fascinated me but some months ago I found myself silently crying when they wheeled one of the mites to the operating theatre. To me death seemed to go wheeling along with the child. It was my duty to prepare the youngsters for the operation. I would dress them tenderly in clean white pyjamas, and make sure that the hair of their heads was entirely shaven off. Their heads were then bound around and around with white cloths like parts of a burial shroud. The percentage of deaths was very high. Without the operations death would have claimed most of them, but it was becoming increasingly difficult for me to present a professional poise when I knew that few would return to the ward and that nearly all would die on the operating table. The final blow which sapped my confidence happened a short time ago. A child of seven years was hospitalised in my wing. Her name was Mary. The diagnosis on the chart read “suspected tumour of the brain.” Her long hair curled in a most natural way. All my experience told me that the little girl was going to die. She differed from the others in one respect. She had a beautiful voice. There was no blurring of the spoken word for her voice was distinct and melodious. The mother told me that they lived in the high green mountain country of Gippsland, Victoria. The father was a timber-getter. They were fairly poor.

It was nearing Christmas and city organisations came with presents and toys for the children. Groups of young boys and girls mostly from Church bodies went around the wards and sang Christmas carols. One afternoon during one of the entertainments I stood near Mary’s cot and she whispered that she could sing a song but it was not a Christmas carol. It was a Catholic hymn. 1 asked the leader of the group to let Mary sing. Mary sang and silence came down on all. It was angelic and one of the young visitors afterwards said she thought she was listening to an angel of Bethlehem. The voice was high and clear like the notes of a bird. May I repeat the words of the hymn.

(1)

Lovely Lady dressed in Blue

Teach me how to pray;

God was just your little boy

Tell me what to say.

(2)

Did you lift Him up sometimes,

Gently on your knee;

Did you sing to Him the way.

Mother does to me?

(3)

Did you hold his hand at night,

Did you ever try

Telling Him stories of the world,

And, oh, did He cry?

(4)

Do you really think He cares,

If 1 tell Him things,

Just little things that happen

And do angel wings make a noise?

(5)

Can He hear me

If 1speak low,

Does He understand me now,

Tell me, for you know.

(6)

Lovely Lady dressed in blue,

Teach me how to pray,

God was just your little boy,

And you know the way.

The nurse resumed her story and told how she prepared the child for her brain operation. She was certain that the child was not going to return to the ward, but the child didand grew well. “I guarded,” she said, “the spark of life night and day.”

The child is back in her high mountain home and is completely restored to health, “for,” said the nurse, “1 went back with the child to the lonely place and did all I could and left only when I knew that there was no further danger.

The mountains are high, vast and silent. Huge giant trees are everywhere, and these trees hold a silence which is awe inspiring. Everything is in direct antithesis to the great city hospital and its constant bustle and movement. The family possessed only the bare necessities of life, but in that high green mountain home I found something spiritual which I intend to hold for the rest of my life.

She said she had made a vow that if God gave life to the child she would become a Catholic. God gave life so she wished to become a Catholic. She had “lots of time” for she had retired from active nursing. She liked saying the Rosary for Mary always wore her Rosary beads around her neck.

6

“OUR TAINTED NATURE”S SOLITARY BOAST”

The hospital was not large. It was a small brick building on the south side of Brisbane. A matron, two assistant matrons, and some trained nurses were responsible for its efficient running. It was different from other hospitals for it treated solely diseases of women. From the highways and byways of the city inmates came to its portals. Some were brought forcefully by the arm of the law and some came of their own free will. Although the use of modern drugs was unknown (the year was 1929), it was most hygienic and everything tended to keep it that way. The matron and her two associates who were very skilled nurses had been chosen for their firmness and capacity to deal with emergencies. They had no religious beliefs. A young girl who was known to all and sundry by the name of Eileen had been admitted and she had persistently asked permission to fix at the head of her bed a rather large picture of Our Lady of Perpetual Succour.

The Sisters wondered how the other girls would accept the holy representation. “Do not worry about me,” said Eileen. “I can defend myself and what I own.” A nun had sent the girl by post the holy plaque for Eileen had been a child of an orphanage. She was bright, intelligent and renowned as a wonderful mimic. The nurses had been astounded at a repeat performance she had given of a bitter quarrel between two of the inmates of the hospital. The voice of one girl was deep, loud and raucous-the other voice was shrill, high and quick, yet Eileen’s mimicry of both was perfect.

There may have been a reckless air about everything she did or said but when she spoke of Our Lady a gentleness and holiness came to the fore. No doubt she recalled the holy life of the orphanage. She had a good audience because the three nurses knew the blasphemous ways of most of their charges and it was rare for a girl like Eileen to raise her voice in honour of holy ways. Tears were in the girl’s eyes when she said the words “our tainted nature’s solitary boast.” The high- sounding words came from the girl without any ostentation. The matron afterwards wrote down the words and was surprised to find out that the renowned poet Wordsworth wrote them. The picture of Our Lady was fixed at the head of Eileen’s bed but the jeers of the others were soon silenced by the quickness of Eileen’s bitter words. The staff heaved a sigh of relief.

It may have been only a small flag exerted in honour of holiness but it was a defiant and proud gesture in a world of fallen and degraded humanity. The matron and the sisters were attracted to Eileen. Her courage was something unexpected and appealing. Whenever they got an opportunity they veered conversation towards the Holy Mother of Christ and endeavoured to find out what that devotion meant. It was a new line of thought for them, and they held many a discussion. For those who practice the natural virtues it has been rightly said that virtue attracts and evil repels. These three nurses had led spotless lives but now Our Lady represented a heavenly ideal for them who came in daily contact with the consequences of sin.

Eileen told them that she would not have fallen into evil ways if she had remained true by prayer to Our Lady. Having left the orphanage, being lonely and afraid she was an easy victim to evil friends. She knew she was making excuses but she knew also that her sole hope of redeeming herself was to go back to her devotion of the Mother of Christ. The nurses were impressed. It seemed as though Our Lady was using spiritually the appeal that Eileen made, to give them the gift of faith. They became friends with a nun in neighbouring convent and were able to get solutions to their many questions. They talked and talked about their problem and read a diversity of Catholic books. They attended a mission at St. Stephen’s Cathedral and finally embraced the Catholic Faith. On visitation the government auditor of the hospital noticed the pictures of Our Lady of Perpetual Succour on the different tables of the Sisters, but made no comment. He was not a Catholic. One of the trained nurses told him the story of the triple conversion, and he it was who wrote this letter.

7

THE PHOTOGRAPH

The big Colonial homestead with its wide verandahs overlooked a large lagoon which was surrounded with weeping willow trees. The lagoon had always been accepted as a sanctuary and was always full of wild bird life. The sheep station was immense for there was a muster of over 20,000 sheep on the property.

The year was 1931 and it was the sixth day of January. Living at the homestead besides the father and mother were two sons and five daughters. They were an excellent Catholic family and had great devotion to Our Lady of Perpetual Succour. There were pictures of Our Lady of Perpetual Succour in every bedroom and the one on the mantle-piece over the fire-grill in the dining-room was framed in a magnificent antique silver frame. It was beautifully embossed. The mother and younger son were holidaying in Brisbane for the young man was shortly going to celebrate his 21st birthday. The rest of the family were gathered together in the home on the night of January 6th and were admiring a photo of the younger boy, which had been taken in Brisbane and posted to the homestead. It was a good photo and portrayed the young man who was educated, refined and a lover of the outdoor Australian way of living. The youngest girl said she would get it framed before the 21st birthday celebration. “Get it framed before they come home” said the father. For some reason the girl neglected to do this and discovered the omission the day their mother and brother were due back. They searched everywhere for a suitable frame but in vain. Then the youngest girl took the silver-framed picture of Our Lady of Perpetual Succour off the mantle-piece and substituted the photo of her brother in place of Our Lady. The result looked very good. The others offered no comment although they had misgivings. This solution of the difficulty did not seem right. In the bustle of cleaning the house to welcome the holidaymakers they forgot what had been done. The mother on arrival quickly noticed the substitution and was upset. She held her peace and made no comment that the substitution did not please her for she did not wish to hurt the feelings of the family who only wished to make her arrival home as happy as possible.

That afternoon the young boy took his horse and gun and rode off to shoot kangaroos with young friends. In the excitement of the chase he was accidently shot and died within a few minutes. The homestead was appalled at the tragedy. In the full joy and vigour of youth, the life of the young boy was ended. The mother was demented. She blamed the substitution of the photo of the boy for the picture of Our Lady. The youngest girl who had made the substitution was also irreconcilable. They both felt guilty of a hideous sin. When the priest came to the dead boy at the homestead, he heard the story of the substitution which seemed to cast a dreadful shadow over all the family. He told them it was wrong to make a mountain out of a thoughtless act but their grief was terrible to witness. The mother could not control her sobbing and became really ill. Priest after priest told her she was unwise to make a great evil out of a small incident which was essentially a gesture of affection of a sister towards her brother on the occasion of a great day in his life. The mother died. The father procured another silver frame-an exact copy of the original and on the mantle-piece in the dining-room the two pictures were placed-Our Lady and the photo of the dead boy. Everyone was unhappy. The family knew that they were unwisely enlarging their sense of guilt because no disrespect to Our Lady had been intended, but that the youngest girl in her youthful affection had only considered honouring her dead brother for his 21st birthday. The years went by. The eldest son became a priest in a religious order and two of the girls became nuns. The old father always kept flowers near the two pictures and became more and more puzzled and depressed with advancing years. His great consolation in life was to go each year to Brisbane and attend Mass said by his son and heard by his family.

8

NOEMI THE PATRONESS

The doctor asked the priest “Do you know who is the patroness of mot hers-inlaw?” “No,” said the priest, “and I have been a priest for forty years.” The doctor then told his story.

“I have been a doctor since 1932 but until recently acknowledged no formal religion. The Bible has always been acceptable to me and has been my “Rule of life.” It was sacred in my parent’s home but I have always realised that on great controversial points there was need of an appeal court which could not err. The great questions of life and death demanded clear infallible truth and I know that truth can only be one. I became a Catholic but it was example and not argument which brought about my conversion.

“My wife died over twenty years ago and left me bereft with three young children-all girls. The youngest was a baby of eight days. I was alarmed at my desperate plight but my wife’s mother came to my home and rescue. She took charge. Many told me that the set-up in the home would not work but it did work because my mother-in-law was a remarkable woman. She was wise and courageous and all her wisdom and valour came from her Catholic Faith. Her model was the Mother of Christ. Confronted with a puzzling situation she would ask herself how would the Mother of Christ act? The children called her Mother and after a time I also called her by that privileged name. Her ways were kind, direct and unassuming. If I lost control and was over-severe with the children she took them in hand and brought them back to proper behaviour. They are now adult and are well-educated. I have always believed that life has no finer experience for a parent than to watch the personality of his own child growing into adult state-the blossom into a bud and the bud into a flower. I watched my own grow and gave them every opportunity. My mother-in-law said evening prayers with them before the Shrine of Our Lady of Perpetual Succour. I did not interfere for I had nothing to offer. The problems of life have been part of my profession so it was a dilemma for me to be outside my own personal problems with my own goodwill freely given. “With my own goodwill freely given”-how I pondered over these words. Here was something spiritual. Here was something that I, with knowledge and experience, could not better. My pride was given a jolt but I was honest enough to admit I could offer no improvement.

“For a long time I searched for a parallel to my own case and then I found it. It was in the Old Testament in the book of Ruth. For those of you who do not know the Idyll of Noemi and Ruth, let me tell it. On account of famine Noemi, an Israelite, left her people and with her husband went to the pagan and hostile land of Moab. She had two sons who married Moabite women. After some years her husband died and then her two sons. Knowing she was growing old and would be lonely she thought she would go back to her own people, but Ruth, her daughter-in-law, said she would go with her. Noemi consented and they journeyed back.

Famine no longer plagued the land. Peace ruled and golden grain was in the fields. Golden grain in old Biblical times meant contentment-no hardships and no war with its fires and burnings. Ruth became a gleaner of the grain and married Boaz-Noemi’s kinsman. Ruth, when she told Noemi that she would leave her Moabite people and go to the land of Israel used immortal words that have glorified affection for the aged and lonely. Let me quote the words-”Whether thou goest, O Noemi, I will go, where thou dwellest, I will dwell. Thy people shall be my people, thy God my God.” Noemi was the prototype of my mother-in-law and both were held in great affection. I was of the people of my mother-in-law (her blood was common with mine to my children) so finally I became convinced that I wished to accept the rest of Ruth’s words “Thy God is my God.”

“I, too, like Ruth, changed my allegiances and I became a Catholic. So to those of my home I can now say “Thy people are my people, and Thy God is my God.” I say a daily prayer from the book of Ruth “Mayest I too receive a full reward from the Lord to whom I have come and under whose wings 1 have fled and seek shelter.” My joy is heightened when I realise that the genealogy of Ruth lead directly to King David and thus on to Mary “of her was born Jesus who is called Christ.” It was on account of this (divine genealogy) that the Book of Ruth was written.

9

OBSESSION

When she was a young woman she had often become depressed. She suffered the obsession that she was damned. Her hell with its blazing fires and devilish figures was very realistic and deeply affected her outlook. In her sleep dreams gave her lurid nightmares. Her intelligence was of high standard for she obtained her B.A. degree at the Queensland University without difficulty. She married and had four fine children. After her marriage the depressive fits began to occur more frequently and her life very morbid and miserable. Her close relatives and most of her friends were non-Catholics. Her husband who was a business man of high integrity and wealthy was indifferent to any religious appeal.

She became ill an d after many discussions a doctor suggested that she go for a time to St. Margaret’s Catholic hospital at Ryde, New South Wales, which was conducted by the nursing sisters of the Little Company of Mary, for the mentally deranged. Good health came back slowly. Her great joy was to go each afternoon to the beautiful Benediction Ceremony in the Convent chapel. She thought it was heavenly. One of the nuns gave her a picture of Our Lady of Perpetual Succour and told her to recite daily the prayers printed on the holy picture. She did not appreciate the picture for some time and then the full beauty of the ideal dawned on her troubled mind. The mantle of the Mother of Christ gathered her in its wide and kindly folds and gave her heavenly shelter and comfort in her darks depressive fits. She grew well and was told she could go back to her home. Whilst at the hospital, she read voraciously everything she could about the Catholic Faith. Christ’s Church began to appeal more and more. On her return to Brisbane, she often went secretly to Benediction in a Catholic Church and always said her prayers to Our Lady. After a number of years she was stricken with leukaemia and sullen and hopeless depression again settled on her mind. She told one of her few Catholic friends that she wished to become a Catholic for she was convinced it was the sole portal to redemption. A priest was called to her home and found her well instructed. He gave her all the Sacraments and afterwards she lapsed into unconsciousness. Her husband who had been in the “South” on a business trip exploded in anger when he heard that she became a Catholic through the agency of a priest. . He was vicious in his denunciations. To him the conversion smattered of trickery and was performed with excessive haste. His wife, he said, did not fully understand what had been done. She had always despised everything religious. He would arrange cremation of his wife at death. Nothing more could be done for the wife remained unconscious. Although the doctors did not expect the wife to rally, she did and all her faculties returned. She was at peace. She told her husband that he was to accuse no one for she had desired to become a Catholic for many years but was afraid to take the necessary steps. The fear of death finally forced her to do so. She got her first opportunity at the Ryde Mental Hospital. She knew that her depressions and dark thoughts of damnation could be destroyed by Faith. The hand of Christ in the Catholic Church always stretched out to her. The Mother of Christ lighted a road through life and freed her of anxieties. She could hear the howls of the demons behind but as long as she thought of Our Lady she was happy and knew her future lead on to heaven. No one had influenced her in her decisions or suggested that she become a Catholic. The obsession of damnation came from the knowledge that she was outside the fold of Christ’s Church. The husband was astounded. He could scarcely believe that the mind of his own dear wife had been in such a turmoil about religious matters but he did everything to make happy the last days of her life. He admitted that he had blamed wrongly the Catholic friends of his wife. She died. Although he is not a Catholic, he now carries a picture of Our Lady and understands the reason why the foot of Christ’s Mother is firmly placed on the head of the Serpent.

10

THE RING

The old Assyrian was worried and distressed. He asked the priest to help him find a valuable ring which he said had been stolen by one of his four sons. It was a large red sapphire surrounded by diamonds. The mother and daughters were upset and the old man said he had become almost berserk in his denunciations of the boys. The upheaval had been noisy and the neighbours had complained although they were unable to find out the reason of the family quarrel. The old man told the priest that Assyrians loved rings and all endeavoured to possess a good one. The priest told the Assyrian he would do what he could. He had been a friend of the family for many years but when he visited the home, he was met with icy consideration for the family felt ashamed. He pondered over the incident, realised it was a family dispute and told the old father about a stratagem which he said had been successful previously in a family squabble. He had read about it in a United States Catholic Magazine. Erect, he said, a Shrine to Our Lady of Perpetual Succour in your home and place on it a small gold book and ask those who are guiltless to write down their names on its pages. He also told him to read aloud each evening an Assyrian poem titled “Abou Ben Adam” to the assembled family after the Rosary had been said before the Shrine.

The poem told about a great Assyrian Chieftain Abou Ben Adam who “awoke one night from a deep dream of peace and sawwithin the moonlight in his room an angel writing in a book of gold.” Abou, alarmed, asked the angel “What writest thou?” The Vision raised its head and with a look of sweet accord answered “The names of those who loved the Lord.” And is mine one, said Abou. Nay, not so, replied the angel. Abou determined to cast all evil from his soul and to restore what he had stolen. He spoke more low and said “I pray you then, write me as one that loves his fellowmen.” The angel wrote and vanished. The next night it came again with a great awaking light and showed the names whom love of God had blest and lo! Ben Adam’s name led all the rest. His name now came first in the book of gold.

The old Assyrian who normally was happy and contented was delighted with the stratagem and did as he was requested. For the first time since the family upheaval started, he laughed when he considered the effect the poetry would have on his eldest son whose nickname was Solemn Mike. Mike was a big dark-featured man, sober-minded and devoid of all humour. The Shrine was erected in the home and the Rosary said. The reading of the poem by the old man was a great success. He enjoyed himself immensely. On the ninth night he found all the names of his family in the Gold Book and the ring in all its beauty on the white cloth of the Shrine table. The names of the four sons had been written together on the front page of the Gold Book. It confirmed the priest in his supposition that the four of them were in the family misdemeanour and were abetted by the mother. She afterwards told the priest that the boys resented the attitude of their father, who considered them children, whereas they were grown men. The boys told their mother that the Shrine of Our Lady, the saying of the Rosary, the Gold Book, the poem, and the visit of the priest were too much for them. They surrendered. Thus peace and happiness came back to the home through the Rosary and a more tolerant family outlook. A victory for Our Lady came out of the incident for the Shrine is now firmly erected in the home and the Rosary said each evening. The theft of the ring is entirely forgotten.

11

LIGHT IN DARKNESS

My wife and I live on a lonely property in Western New South Wales. Our children have married and gone from the land. Goods books are the best solace we have in our secluded world so we read voraciously. Poetry appeals to me. A good poem can intoxicate me like wine intoxicates others. I was a soldier of World War 1. During the last few years my wife and I have made a study of the Catholic Faith. I have always had an obsession that religion should be in no way national. It should not be under ruling powers but should be as free as a bird on the wing. I found that the Catholic Church was free and independent so it appealed to me. It gave to Caesar the things of Caesar and to God the things of God. It didn’t compromise with Heaven.

Let me tell you how I lived after the War. For many years 1 was an invalid on account of war wounds. The poetry of the war fascinated me. I idolised one poem inparticular called the “Victory Ball” because it symbolised my intense dislike of the terrible slaughter of the young soldiers of the nations. I learnt every word of it and said it repeatedly like a holy person says a prayer, but to me it was a hymn of hate. It told of dead young soldiers watching and enjoying a “Victory Ball.”

Let me quote a few verses which will convey my meaning—Shadows of dead men stand by the wall,

Watching the fun of the Victory Ball.

God, how the dead boys gape and grin

As the tom-toms bang

And the dance makes din

Victory, Victory, on with the dance,

Back to the jungle, ye beasts of prance;

God, how the dead men grin by the wall,

Watching the fun of the Victory Ball.

There were many similar poems and although there was nothing evil about them they were either pagan or mundane.

When I later came across some Catholic poems depicting a Christ unknown to me I was really enthralled. The words seem to ring to me from heaven like the great bell of an ancient Church. They proclaimed a way of life different from anything I knew. They told of the universal appeal of Christ the Redeemer. They were on a higher spiritual level than anything I had ever read. Let me quote some verses :—1

I see His Blood upon the rose

And in the stars the glory of His eyes,

His body gleams amid eternal snows,

His tears fall from the skies.

I see His Face in every flower; . The thunder, and the singing of the birds Are but His voice and carven by His power, Rocks are His written words.

All pathways by His feet are worn,

His strong Heart stirs the ever-beating sea,

His crown of thorns is twined with every thorn,

His Cross is every tree.

2

He is out as of old in the city,

He is walking abroad in the street,

He tendeth the poor in his pity,

The sinner who kneels at His feet.

3

I fled Him down the nights and down the days

I fled Him down the arches of the years,

I fled Him down the labyrinthine ways

Of my own mind.

I firmly believe in the reality of God. I cannot understand the atheist. All life cries out, God is. The sun and the moon and the stars at night and all created things demand Him as their First Cause and as their Creator. The words of the Psalmist like Infinite and Almighty only feebly portray his attributes. Without Him all is without reason and without Him there is no answer to the riddle of the world. Poetry again came to my aid. Let me submit a few great extracts.

1

If I, O God, ascend into heaven, Thou art there,

If I descend into hell, Thou art present,

If I take my wings early in the morning

And dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea,

Even there also shall Thy hand lead me

And the right hand shall hold me.

2

I saw eternity the other night

Like a great ring of pure and endless light,

And round beneath it Time in hours, days, years.

3

Thou, O God, comest not, Thou goest not,

Thou wert not, wilt not be,

Eternity is but a thought

By which men think of Thee.

4

I see, O God, a world in a grain of sand,

And heaven in a wild flower,

Hold infinity in the palm of my hand,

And eternity in an hour.

Finally, my wife and I became Catholics. Books were always our greatest and principal friends. Perhaps you who were born Catholics are not as conscious of the Faith as we are. To us it symbolises now a spiritual home where we have anchorage, security and all that a home implies. My wife has erected in our earthly home a Shrine to the Mother of Christ-to Our Lady of Perpetual Succour. She keeps it beautiful. The Divine Mother holds the Infinite Jesus in her arms and there each evening we kneel and pray. Now as Catholics we have something real in our lives which previously we did not have. Surely you will pray for us for we love the moment at the end of day when we make the Sign of the Cross and say “Our Father Who art in Heaven.”

12

GOD WILL PROVIDE

It was 1930, early in the month of January. It was the year when the great depression reached its lowest depths in Brisbane. A young Irishman from County Kerry who had come to Australia before World War I, had a home in the Valley with a wife and six children. His great devotion was to the Mother of Christ. His seventh child would soon be due. He was a good workman and had kept his position through the early stakes of the depression. Now his work place was to close. One fateful Friday he was handed a notice that his services would be terminated the following Friday. He went home with the notice in his pocket but he did not tell his wife for he did not wish to worry her so near to the birth of the child. The week went by. Then came the fateful Friday. The doors of his shop closed for good at the end of the day. After that he went to St. Stephen’s Cathedral and prayed before the picture of Our Lady of Perpetual Succour for a long time.

When he went home he found his wife had already gone to hospital. Jobs were impossible to find in the city of Brisbane. His thoughts turned to the country but purchase of a farm seemed hopeless. His father-in-law could lend him a little money, but only a fraction of what a farm would cost. Then news came of a farmer who wanted to sell his farm to buy a hotel and of a hotel-keeper who in turn wanted to buy a house in Brisbane.

It was a circle. He was able to sell his house at an unexpectedly good price to the hotel-keeper. This, with the loan from his father-in-law was just sufficient to purchase the farm. Despite years of drought and low farm prices he always provided well for his family and ultimately prospered. With his ten children and eighteen grandchildren around him at Christmas time he thinks back to that Friday afternoon thirty years ago when he prayed before Our Lady’s picture in St. Stephen’s Cathedral. In the winter of his life he still puts his trust completely in the Mother of Christ. “God will provide” said the doctor at the Brisbane, Maternity Hospital, when Anne, the seventh child came into this world where a depression raked and pressed down like a dark cloud. How true were the words of the doctor. The saintly names of his ten children reveal the man. Mary, Irene, Joan, John, Thomas, Martin, Anne, Madeleine, Patrick and Kieran. The youngest is a seminarian.

13

THE CHIEF CLEANER

Her home was in Kelvin Grove, Brisbane, and every night she had to produce fifty cleaners. Sometimes she had 45, sometimes she had 55, but Mrs. Beaty from long experience knew how to deal with the different situations which cropped up. She always knew where to get a few more and knew also how to sack those who were not needed. Her cleaners did not have modern equipment-just a broom and a mop. They were noisy and laughed aloud and jostled one another when opportunity arose. Each one well knew how to give a slight which could start a quarrel. It was then Mrs. Beaty showed her mettle. A threatening person appeared and there fell from her lips menacing words, which bit with a deadly sting. Still she was liked and in her own way a great labour leader. The managers in the City of the different Offices which had to be cleaned, knew her worth. She was small, robust, full of energy and holy. She went to daily mass. It was said that she did not miss her morning mass at St. Stephen’s Cathedral for twenty years. Her great pride in her tumble-down house was her large statue of Our Lady. It was placed on a wooden case but was kept with holy and immaculate care. The linen cloths were always spotless. The flowers were always fresh and the candles ready for use. A framed picture of Our Lady of Perpetual Succour was behind the statue. Our Lady, she said, kept her life holy-and free from all evil. She said she did not smoke, or drink or swear on account of Our Lady. Her devotion to the Mother of Christ was followed by some of her cleaners and these quickly became her special friends.

Her stories connected with her night work as a cleaner were numerous. One she often told, was of a man who was already dead. I spoke to him, she said, for five minutes before I realised that he was dead. I called the other cleaners to his office and we “phoned the priest and said the Rosary. Another story was of a thief who was caught ransacking an office by one of the cleaners. He made the mistake of threatening her. She called loud and long. We came with our brooms, she said, and force of numbers won. We laid him low. He got twelve months and some of the girls occasionally went to Boggo Road to see him. Other stories told of the man who was found dead in the well of an elevator, of the girl who got locked in an office and became hysterical (we cured her with cold water) and of the man who stayed in his office to get drunk (he was usually most distant, but that night he was most friendly and loquacious. Then there was the high executive who shot himself (the sound of the shot in the early morning brought us all running), and the fine old dress-maker who locked and sealed her room and turned on her gas jet (when we broke down the door she looked beautiful in death).

But these episodes, she said, were few and far between. Life, cleaning offices, was mostly hard, difficult, and backbreaking. Cleaners of offices in the big City hardly counted and were worth at the most a passing glance. Nevertheless, Mrs. Beaty was a personality-poor-illiterate and work-worn but still a great human figure who in her heyday did a lot of kind acts and who knew how to deal with raw feminine ways. The keynote of her power was her goodness and the noble way she rose above the dust of Brisbane came through her devotion to the Mother of Christ. It ennobled her life. People of all walks of life attended her funeral and her friends the police came in their numbers.

14

FROM COUNTY KERRY

Wren she died she was nearly one hundred years old. Although she had lived for many years under the hot sun of south-west Queensland, her face was unlined and her complexion was no different from the day she left her native Kerry, Ireland, to come to Queensland at the request of her brother, who was a hotel-keeper at Warwick. Her family were very fine people, of whom many were priests and nuns in Ireland and America. She, who all surreptitiously called Annie, was a fearless forthright and wholesome woman. She was a personality. InKerry where she was born they called her “Queen” but few Queens had her regal bearing or were fit to wipe the dust from her shoes. Those whom she liked she treated with open generosity. She brought to the Darling Downs all the glory and durability of the Catholic Faith of her homeland. Ireland to her meant the Faith. The Rosary was her great prayer and she did not miss a day during the long years of her life in Queensland in reciting the great prayer to the Mother of Christ. Those who came to her home, Catholic and Protestant joined in the holy recitation. It was always a joy for her to say the Rosary in a home whose inmates daily recited the great prayer.She often said that “Loganhome” in the town of Clifton on the Darling Downs was as holy as a Church, for the Rosary had been said daily in that home for nearly one hundred years. She spoke in awed and hushed tones of this great continuous act of holiness because although in Ireland one hundred years of prayers might not be exceptional, it was an unparalleled act of devotion in Australia. She lived at Cunnamulla for many years and was most active in Church affairs. The priests always had a home in the house and nothing was too good for Christ’s representatives.

She married a bank manager who was a great Catholic and loved the company of priests. He died a lingering painful death but kept his humour to the end. He was asked before he died if he had any worries. “No,” he said, “I have lived a good life. I hardly did anything wrong. I was too well watched byAnnie and her friends.”

One of her exhilarating memories which she often recounted with pride was the recollection of her great drive in her horse-gig from Clifton to Allora on the Darling Downs with the Archbishop of Brisbane, who was anxious to catch the express train. She said the horse never trotted so fast, but she only caught the express with moments to spare. Old residents of Allora and Clifton still tell of Annie’s great trotting mare and the great race for the express. The residents of each farm hailed and waved the horse on its great dash.

She was a great pioneer and in whatever parts of Queensland her footsteps halted there was always the indelible mark of holiness, and greater devotion for the Mother of Christ. Her last home was at Red Hill, Brisbane. There her great joy and pride was her magnificent shrine to Our Lady. The Altar was always decorated with flowers and the candles were always lit for the recitation of the Rosary. The picture of Our Lady of Perpetual Succour held high position on the Shrine. She died with her Rosary Beads in her hands and a Hail Mary on her lips. It is to such great Irish people who loved their Catholic Faith and devotion to the Mother of Christ and who gave the impression that God’s law came first, even unto death, that the Church in Queensland was founded on such a true and solid foundation.

These letter-stories are built on realities and each reality is based on a spiritual influence attributed to Our Lady. The letters sound a true spiritual note for they come out of the daily lives of people.

Imprimatur

@ JAMES DUHIG, Archbishop of Brisbane

Further Stories in Honour of Our Lady of Perpetual Succour in Book 2

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Letter-Stories In Honour of Our Lady of Perpetual Succour Part 2

EDITED AND PUBLISHED BY REV. FATHER BOLTONOF ST. AMBROSE’S CHURCH. NEWMARKET, BRISBANE

INDEX

THE MONEYLENDER

He was a young athlete powerfully built and everyone knew who he was from the proud ensign on his blazer. Now a look of amazement was on his face for he was listening to a proposition a moneylender was making to a priest. The scene was in a cafe in the heart of Brisbane. The moneylender told the priest he would give him fifty pounds if he stopped paying a weekly debt on a widow’s home in Kennigo Street, Valley, Brisbane. It was the time of the great depression and the moneylender knew the widow’s house would fall into his hands like a ripe plum if she was unable to pay the weekly “redeeming money.” The priest was the helper of the widow for she was out of work and had three children. It was extraordinary that the moneylender knew who was the obstacle to his seizure of the home. The priest thought of the saying that some people knew the smell of money.

The priest and athlete both felt the cold hand of evil. The priest said the suggestion was unspeakably low and he could hardly believe anyone living in a land of plenty could be so degraded as to make such a request especially to a priest. He was not only angry but felt ill at the proposition. They left the cafe and went to the widow’s home. They were invited to enter. The athlete was delighted to see the Shrine of Our Lady of Perpetual Succour in the dining room. He said he had his own Shrine in his home in England and would like to say the Rosary some evening with them. Some nights later he did so and the mother announced a petition to Our Lady for “Help to save the home.” The action of the athlete and the low scheming of the moneylender hardened the mind of the priest and urged him to obtain greater help for the widow. She kept her home and her three sons eventually obtained good positions of employment. They realised the great sacrifice of their mother and her grim battle to keep for them their cherished possession. Ideals of sacrifice and prayer to the Mother of Christ formed part of their daily lives. The English visitor wrote often to the boys because sacrifice for children by a good mother appeals to all fine people everywhere and he was fine. His name was Jim O”Sullivan, Captain of the English Rugby League football team then touring Australia. He said he could not blot out of his mind the evil plea of the moneylender. It made him shudder. When he thought of the proposition made to a Catholic Priest, images of fallen angels and of evil powers almost obsessed his mind. Its vileness was something essentially foreign to his way of life. It made him draw nearer in his devotions to the Mother of Christ.

WHITE DOVES AND SMALL DONKEYS

He came around to the priest after the devotions to Our Lady of Perpetual Succour had been completed. He was vexed and contentious. He said he was a non-Catholic but had been coming to the Novena in honour of Our Lady because he liked anything devotional. He was a lay-preacher. For him the Bible was the holy book of God. Every night he read some chapters. The priest realised that behind the bluster the young man was worried so he invited him to his presbytery. The number of biblical quotations the young man could recite was astounding. He told the priest that white doves were mentioned in the Bible 198 times and small donkeys 130 times. The priest had an open mind on these figures for he was unable to check their truth. He searched through his books for confirmation but to no avail.

However, he had to assert his position and state the attitude of the Catholic Church to the Bible, so he set out to prove that numbers did not matter much and that the truth and beauty of Catholic Doctrine was better by far than the dry dust of the Reformation. He informed the young, man that white doves and small donkeys in the Bible synchronised with great events. From his Bible he read aloud Chapter VII of the Book of Genesis. It was the story of the Dove and the ending of the Deluge. “And Noah sent forth a dove out of the ark and she came back to him in the evening carrying a bough of an olive tree with green leaves in her mouth.” He also read out how at Christ’s baptism the white dove was immortally glorified. Luke in his gospel tells us that whilst John the Baptist in humility poured water from the River Jordan on the head of Christ, “the Holy Ghost descended in bodily shape as a dove upon him and a Voice came from heaven saying “Thou art my beloved son in whom I am well pleased.””

From the old Testament the priest read the story of Balaam and his donkey which had always been a favourite story around the camp fires of Israel. Balaam was a pagan soothsayer and the Moabites, a tribe hostile to the Jews, besought him to curse the Jews. After promises of gold and silver Balaam consented but was prevented by an angel who obstructed his donkey from going near the Jewish camps. Balaam beat his donkey but God spoke through the mouth of the little animal “What have I done to thee,” it said, “Why strikest thou me.” The Lord opened the eyes of Balaam and he saw an angel with drawn sword forbidding him to continue. He became afraid and blessed the Jews crying out “How beautiful are thy tabernacles, O Jacob, andthy tents, O Israel. A star shall rise out of Jacob and a sceptre shall spring up from Israel.”

In the New Testament he read aloud of many little donkeys and the gentle patter of their feet was always connected with some great event. They sounded on the cobble stones of Nazareth when at the decree of Augustus, the Roman Emperor, the Divine Mother with her unborn babe went from Nazareth to Bethlehem for the first Christmas night.

Their muffled sound was heard over the long sandy journey from Nazareth to Egypt as the Divine Family hurried away from the wrath of Herod who wished to kill the new born King of Kings in the massacre of the Innocents. Again the small donkey had a real moment of triumph when he carried the Divine Victim of Calvary on his last journey into Jerusalem. It was the first of our Palm Sundays.

A Catholic poet has put into verse the triumphal entry:—I may be the tattered outlaw of the earth,

Of ancient crooked will,

With monstrous head and sickening cry,

And ears like errant wings.

Fools! For I also had my hour,

One far fierce hour and sweet,

There was a shout about my ears,

And palms before my feet.

The shout was “Hosanna to the Son of David. Blessed is He that cometh in the name of the Lord.”

The priest told the young man that anyone could count the white doves and small donkeys of the Bible but to what advantage?

To count the references to the Mother of Christ was of doctrinal use but there was need for something or someone to decide which ones were true. An authority was necessary to accept or reject. The first great truth which the new Testament taught was the Divinity of Christ. From it flowed the pre-eminent place that the Mother of Christ held in the Redemption. It was of small consequence to count doves or donkeys. What did matter was that Christ was God and Mary was His Divine Mother. The priest told the non-Catholic young man to memorize the great Magnificat of the Mother of Christ.

“My soul doth magnify the Lord

And my spirit hath rejoiced in God, My Saviour,

Because he hath regarded the humility of his handmaid

For behold from henceforth all generations shall call me blessed,

Because He that is mighty hath done great things to me and holy is His name.

And His mercy is from generation unto generation to them that fear Him.

He hath shown might in his arm: he hath scattered the proud in the conceit of their heart.

He hath put down the mighty from their seat and hath exalted the humble

He hath filled the hungry with good things and the rich he hath sent empty away.”

It took twelve months of thought, argument and meditation before the young man fully appreciated and accepted the Catholic Church. At a parish church in Brisbane on Christmas Day, 1960, he received his First Holy Communion. He says he will not argue again about such topics as the exact number of white doves and small donkeys of the Bible. Now he has a Faith by which he lives and which he knows to be heavenly.

DE PROFUNDIS

He was the best bicycle rider in Queensland. His great asset was the perfect co-ordination between his will and muscles to start quickly at the sound of the starting pistol. He came of a large Catholic family of Wooloowin, Brisbane. Two of his sisters entered the congregation of the Sisters of Mercy. He married a Catholic girl of Brisbane. When war broke out he joined the R.A.A.F. and received his initial training as a fighter pilot in Australia. He took to flying with great enthusiasm and was regarded as one of the most promising of the trainees. His judge of distance and height greatly needed by a fighter pilot was phenomenal. He was shipped to Canada with a hundred young airmen on the Empire Air Training Scheme. He obtained all his diplomas and was kept in Canada to train others, but he wanted to go to England to be in the battle zone. A few days before he was due to depart he told his Commanding Officer he could no longer fly. He did not know what was wrong, but he knew that if he continued he would wreck his plane. The R.A.A.F. medico told him to go slow and not to fly for a week. He felt worse and refused to go into the air. He was sent to England, but still knew that something was wrong. He was court-martialled and faced the charge and stigma of cowardice. He was disrated and given menial jobs to do on the planes. He was sent out of England and in New Zealand he wrote and told his wife he was peeling potatoes for the mess.

His wife was broken-hearted for she knew how high had been his ambitions for flying. She sent him a picture of Our Lady of Perpetual Succour and it was to Our Lady that he turned. He said he was going to die, but asked for her prayers to die with courage. He was discouraged for he could not give even an explanation of his disabilities. He ate and slept well but he began to drag his right foot. He was sent back to Australia and was sentenced to a month’s imprisonment for cowardice. Medical Officers said his health was excellent. He came to Brisbane dishonoured and his sole friends were his wife and his own people. He prayed to Our Lady for courage to bear the indignity and disgrace of being branded a coward. Numerous Specialists examined him but to no avail. A young doctor at New Farm, Brisbane, diagnosed his case as cancer of the spinal vertebrae. Two bones were almost chalk.

He was hospitalised at Rosemount, Brisbane, and began to bend. Prayer came easily to his heart and mind for Our Lady had given him the courage he had asked for. It was pitiable to see the curved body, now almost in a circle, of the erstwhile great athlete. He was happy and in peace. His wife realized the great drama of his life and his long bitter fight against unknown sickness. She was always sitting by his bedside. The R.A.A.F. Authorities “squashed” all past verdicts and reinstated him to full honours. He died and was given a full R.A.A.F. funeral. His wife considered her husband not only a great airman, but also a great saint. She continued to pray before her shrine to Our Lady of Perpetual Succour at her family home but longed for a greater field of sacrifice, so she joined a sisterhood which labours in India. She received the Missionary Cross from His Grace Archbishop Duhig at St. Stephen’s Cathedral, Brisbane. At present she is working on an Indian Leper Station. She trained as a nurse at the Mater Misericordiae Hospital, Brisbane.

THE TWO LAY BROTHERS

Their home was in County Tipperary, Ireland. Everybody knew that both boys-Kieran and Ned, entered the Redemptorist Order because their mother loved the devotion of Our Lady of Perpetual Succour, and the Fathers constantly fostered that holy devotion. She often said that the only time she was free of worldly cares was when the Rosary was being said before her shrine. She grew flowers solely to decorate it. The children grew to love Our Lady. “The young plant will grow straight when staked correctly,” she said, and so she helped to stake their minds towards the Mother of Christ. The father was the mighty man of the district, the County blacksmith, and his name was Tim.

Both boys joined the Monastery together. Before they left home the mother impressed on Kieran the elder, the necessity of always helping Ned. They came to Australia. Kieran, who became a lay brother, was eventually sent to the Redemptorist Monastery, Brisbane, where he laboured during the last twenty years of his life. Those who visited the Monastery on the hill often saw the tall gaunt figure of Brother Kieran doing the menial work of the house. His soutane was always well-patched but immaculately clean. His boots seemed always to be old, but were always well-mended by his industrious hands. He gave the impression that meditation embraced most of his living hours, and he never spoke unless someone spoke to him. He once told a friend that he liked to do menial jobs in the kitchen, like peeling potatoes.

The days of his life passed in an uneventful way. He became sick and a renowned doctor, who was friendly with the monks, told the Superior that Brother Kieran had cancer and would live only a short time. The Brother refused to go to bed or neglect his duties. The Doctor said that the Brother reminded him of the Old Testament prophet Ezechiel, on account of his holy appearance and great voice. He seemed to be waiting for the chariot to fly him on heavenly wings to God he so loyally served, and to the Mother of Christ who now helped him in his mortal sickness. Brother Kieran suffered great pain but refused all pain-relieving drugs. His agony was depicted on his ashen face. The day before he died he stayed in bed for weakness stopped him from answering the bell of the Monastery, whilst it pealed out the morning Angelus. He was asked if he wished to see his brother.

“Oh no, he said, “leave Ned alone, he’s busy.” Ned happened now to be the Most Reverend Edmond Gleeson, D.D., C.S.S.R., Bishop of Maitland. He had become a Redemptorist priest and had been appointed by the Holy See to the Bishopric of Maitland, New South Wales. Brother Kieran died and His Lordship remarked when told of his brother’s death, that it seemed that Kieran had an “express ticket to heaven, made out by prayer, mortification and love of Christ’s Mother.” That same afternoon His Lordship drove to the cemetery outside Newcastle (known as Sandgate cemetery) and there knelt in prayer at a grave whose inscription bore the words “Sacred to the memory of Brother Timothy.” Brother Timothy washis own father who, on the mother’s death, had followed the boys to Australia, and had become a lay brother also in the Redemptorist Order. His Lordship died in 1956 and at his panegyric the preacher told a truth which threw into relief the whole life of the Bishop, by saying that the Bishop had always walked through life with Christ as his companion. Our Lady had gathered to God’s throne three more of her very own.

THE WATCHWORD OF HOLY IRELAND

It has been rightly said that the best immigrant to land on Australian shores was the Irish Mother. She was holy and the strength and endurance of her holiness rested securely on the love she cherished for the Mother of Christ. She brought to the rough ways of men who toiled in the cities and wide-open spaces of Australia a great antidote to anything unholy or evil.

Scattered around Fortitude Valley and Spring Hill, Brisbane, were numerous Irish families and their homes which exist today were wooden gable-structures with attic rooms. The kitchens of these houses were large with great fire-stoves where gatherings for young and old took place at night and where the darkness was dispelled by happy talk and ballad song which harkened back on the wings of memory to the distant Irish homeland. Many were devoted to Our Lady of Perpetual Succour for this devotion was widespread throughout Ireland and the Rosary was always said after the evening meal. Most unmarried immigrants did not possess their own homes but lived in single rooms in residentials. No better example can be unfurled of Irish hospitality in the early days than the bright open fire-places in the kitchens of those who possessed homes and the wide open hands of the Irish mothers who greeted in kindness every new exile who came to their doors. Here hearts were warmed for the struggles ahead. If they died, the Mothers of the Irish homes took the bodies to their kitchens where they rested until the horse-drawn hearses took them to the Church. The idol of these kitchens for a number of years was an Italian priest named Canali. One of his most poignant stories is told about an Irish girl who died in a residential and was unknown. She was brought to one of the kitchens but no one claimed her. For what reason she came to Australia remained unanswered. The Italian priest has left on record that many people thronged the gable-house in Warry Street, Valley, to view the body of the girl “beautiful in death with raven black hair and a complexion of white alabaster, but there resulted no definite information about her identity. Amongst her belongings was found a prayer-book with four holy pictures of Our Lady of Perpetual Succour and her name was on each picture-Mary Dwyer, Dublin. The Italian priest said he sought and obtained from his Archbishop permission to read the burial service. Practically every Irish Catholic in the Valley and Spring Hill in the year 1907 went to the funeral and they did so, said the Italian priest, not only for love of their own unknown, but because she carried amongst her belongings the “Watchword of Holy Ireland”-the picture of the Mother of Christ.

The Sisters of Mercy at the Catholic orphanage near the cemetery at Nudgee tolled the Chapel bell when the funeral appeared with its unknown dead. They sent four altar boys and a cross bearer from the orphanage to help Father Canali at the graveside and made sure that three little orphan girls dressed in white laid a cross of Shamrocks on the grave.

THE BIG CAT

Down where I live on a farm on the alluvial flats of the Logan River, Brisbane, there are swarms of large red-black snakes. They grow to eight feet in length and are as thick as a man’s wrist. They move forward very quickly, but it is suicidal to go behind them for they can stiffen and hurl their bodies backwards like poisoned arrows.

In my home there are my husband and six children. My husband, who is a prosperous farmer, took great delight in telling everyone who visited us that he owned a big tiger-tawny cat and that no one could coax it away from him. He did not feed it. I fed it. All he did was carry it and rub its head with his huge farmer’s hand yet the cat followed him around the farm. It took no notice of anyone else.

We are Catholic people and I have a Shrine of Our Lady of Perpetual Succour in my home. Each night the Rosary is said in front of the Shrine-the picture of Our Lady, the lighted candles and the two vases of flowers. The Picture came from Germany with my parents. My husband was rebellious, but I fought him on the issue mostly for the sake of the children. He always tried to make a joke of the devotions and would bring in his arms his cat to the prayers to annoy me. “The cat and I,” he would say mockingly, “pray hard. The cat better than I.” He often fell asleep whilst the Rosary was being said. Some months ago in the hot days of December I placed my baby of eight months in the motor-car lean-to at the back of the House. The child could crawl. The big cat was nearby. Suddenly I knew something was wrong. The child was crawling towards a huge black snake-sideways towards it. I ran, but the cat moved more quickly. It caught the black head of the snake in its jaws and ripped its body open with great hind claws. I snatched up the child. It was all over in seconds. Now when the Rosary is said these nights there is no mockery from my husband. The great big “goof” loved and loves his own. The big cat still comes but my husband leaves it alone until the prayers are completed.

May Our Lady of Perpetual Succour ever guard my home and children.

THE BECKONING FINGER

She had practised often the trick of the beckoning finger. The top joint of her index finger appeared to be the sole movement of the beckoning. It was difficult to do. She was a beautiful girl and her name was Mary. She was dressed in shining white with a large red hat. She now stood at the intersection of the two main streets of Ipswich, Queensland. Everyone glanced at the radiant girl who bore the impress of refinement and education. She was beckoning to a young man who looked angry and grim. She knew hewas annoyed but her woman’s intuition knew also that she had him “hooked.” He came at her beckoning. His name was Peter. “What do you think I am,” he said, “a French poodle ?” “O no, dear Peter, I think you are a great footballer-a great fullback.” He played fullback for Ipswich in Rugby League. He seemed placated but on guard.

“Peter,” she said, “there’s going to be a mission at St. Mary’s and I want you to come with me each night. How about it?” He looked at Mary and said, “You know that I have not been inside a Church since I was a small boy.” They glanced at one another and both knew it was a moment of great consequence. He looked into the depths of her large black eyes, was lost, and said, “We’ll go!”

They went to the mission every night. Mary asked the old missioner how she could get Peter back to his church.

The fault, she said, was his parents. The missioner gave Mary a leaflet with prayers to Our Lady of Perpetual Succour. “Recite these prayers,” he said, “every day, and Our Lady will bring him back to the practice of his Faith. Mary promised. Six months after the mission the same missioner was kneeling near a confessional in St. Mary’s Church. Night was ap- proaching. The Church was empty except for a young man. The priest wanted an evening paper, so quite unconsciously he beckoned to the young man with his index finger, moving only the top joint. He had learnt the trick from Mary. The effect was electric. The young man jumped up and went into the confessional. The priest was startled, but he also hurried into the confessional box and heard the boy’s confession. It was Peter. He married Mary and became a wonderful Catholic. He always told his friends that it was a beckoning finger which led him back to God, but Mary has her doubts, so she makes him say every evening the Rosary before the Shrine of Our Lady of Perpetual Succour.

NICODEMUS

His name was Nicodemus and he came by night. The old priest always chuckled when he thought of Nicodemus. He compared him to the Nicodemus of St. John’s Gospel, who also came by night. St. John was the sole one of the four Evangelists who mentioned Nicodemus in his Gospel and he mentioned him three times. It seemed that St. John was not sure of this dark character who waited for the cover of darkness to pay his visits to Christ, but in the end it was Nicodemus with Joseph of Arimathea who placed the body of the dead Christ in the great tomb.

The man who bore the famous name mentioned by St. John often called on the priest but he did not wish anyone to know it. So he came by night and he said he had his reasons. A suspicion was crystallised into a certainty in the mind of the priest by a number of small incidents that this Nicodemus who was an American, belonged to an Evangelist party which was holding prayer meetings in Brisbane. He always brought to the priest a prepared series of questions on Christ and the Gospels. The priest answered all the questions to the best of his ability and gave the American many Catholic books. He also gave him a Catechism but one night the questions solely concerned the Mother of Christ and on this question the priest grew eloquent for he took pride that here he was on holy ground that he knew and loved. He explained to his visitor the special homage that Catholic people give to our Blessed Lady because She was the Divine Mother of Christ who was God as well as man. He explained the doctrine of the Fall of our First Parents and of Divine Redemption through Christ. The visitor was impressed. He asked question after question. The priest before he left showed him his shrine of Our Lady of P.S. with the vases of fresh flowers and candles. He lit the candles and the American with the enthusiasm of his race said the shrine was beautiful. He came often but now wished to talk only of the Mother of Christ. The Story of Bethlehem, he said, now shone with a new meaning and a new truth. The priest gave him Bing Crosby’s record called “The Small One,” and the American said that every night he heard the patter of the little donkey’s feet on the cobble stones of Nazareth leaving for Bethlehem with the Divine Mother and her unborn Babe. He revelled in the stories of Lourdes and Fatima. Lourdes brought tears to his eyes. He could hardly believe such a place existed in this world of evil and strife.

Six months after his last visit the priest received a postcard from Lourdes with the words : “From your friend- Nicodemus.” A month ago he got a long letter. It told how the American who sang well, had attached himself to the Evangelist group because he wanted a job. He said in the letter that the Revivalist preacher was a sincere and holy man, that he liked prayer meetings, but he knew little about Christ or the Gospels. The leader of the Revivalist group was a sickly type who often asked Nicodemus to lead the prayers or singing when he was incapacitated. He always went to a Catholic priest when he wanted to get religious knowledge on something he did not understand. He knew Catholic priests in every large city of Australia, New Zealand and America, but he always visited them by night because he didn’t wish the priests to know what he did for a living or to be recognised visiting a priest by anyone who frequented the revivalist meetings where he preached. He was now back at Houston, Texas, and was teaching English in High Schools. He had become a Catholic and was now ashamed of the contempt he once had for the things of God. It was the Mother of Christ who gave him his Catholic Faith. In his hungry soul, realisation and acceptance of a Heavenly Mother filled a great need and was heavenly manna in his gipsy and haphazard way of living. He asked for a prayer at the priest’s shrine when the candles were lit before the Mother of Christ. He would always be proud of his name-Nicodemus-because although St. John said that Nicodemus, perplexed and perhaps ashamed, came to Christ by night, he liked to think of the great service Nicodemus did for the crucified Christ. “Bound It in linen cloths with spices, and placed It in a new sepulchre wherein no man yet had been laid.” The “It” was Christ’s dead body.

GOD”S WAYS

The old nun gave a holy picture to both the old men. It was a picture of Our Lady of Perpetual Succour. One old man was a good Catholic, the other one had practically forgotten his religion. The bad Catholic was coarse, mean and given to saying lewd and obscene things. The old nun visited the wards of the General Hospital every week where the two men were lying. She came from the big Convent in the city, and it was her duty to visit the sick. The old men were very sick. The nurses thought that they both would die within a short time. The Sister in charge of the ward was a young lady dressed in shining white, with a resplendent white veil. She looked healthy and very capable. The nurses and patients liked her. “What have you got there?” she asked the old men; the good Catholic said that the nun had given each of them a holy picture of the Mother of Christ. The bad Catholic said he could not understand the picture and the Sister told him to die as he had lived-keep a stiff upper lip-not to be a coward. She did not believe in superstition and she thought the pictures very ugly. A few days later, the good man was very ill. The Sister sent for the doctor. Whilst the doctor was coming the Sister brought the bad old man to the bathroom. Then, suddenly all the nurses were rushing about, the Sister lay on the floor but the doctor knew life had gone. Apparently the Sister had died from a heart attack. The old men recovered and left hospital. They used to meet on occasions, and both prized in a special way their holy pictures of Our Lady of Perpetual Succour which had upset so terribly the sister in charge of their ward and who had died so quickly. The old must die; but sometimes the young die before the old.

“THE JEWISH DOCTOR”

It is twenty-five years since I took an appointment at the Brisbane General Hospital as a resident doctor. I had just passed my final examinations at the Sydney University Medical School. University life, for some unholy reason then, as now, was often wild and uninhibited. It was fashionable to drink, and drink heavily. I did so with others, and in the end became an alcoholic. Do you know what an alcoholic is? Well, I could not live or exist without drink.

My family lived on the land in New South Wales. They were good Catholic people, honest, sober and industrious. My mother, when she finally learnt my condition and outlook, was horrified. She had spent a small fortune on my education and there I stood looking tragedy and disgrace in the face. When I was appointed to the Brisbane General Hospital, and before I left my home, she made me promise to go to Mass every Sunday and to say the “Memorare” each day in honour of Our Lady of Perpetual Succour. Although I then disliked holy things, I did it for her, who had done so much for me and who, to me, was and is the greatest and finest person I ever met.

I found it difficult to keep that promise. People drank a lot on Saturday nights in Brisbane twenty-five years ago. On Sunday morning I was generally sick and stupid. A Jewish doctor friend of mine used to give me a hot bath, dress me, though dazed, and send me in a cab to St. Stephen’s Cathedral for the 11 A.M. Mass. My Jewish friend knew I had one anchor in “the Mass and the prayer.” I told him so. “Lose your anchor,” he said, “and you’re finished.”

After three years I began to improve. 1 centred all my effort on the prayer to Our Lady and the Sunday Mass. I often think what I owe to that Jewish doctor. Today I am a successful doctor, with a good wife and family. Drink for me is a curse and I have not taken a drink for seven years. My Catholic Faith is dear to me; above all is my love of Our Lady-my Heavenly Mother. Surely I was blessed with two great mothers The Heavenly Mother of us all, and my own great Motherwho loved that Lady under the title of “Our Lady of Perpetual Succour.”

ALONE

Her name was Mary and she came from Western Queensland. There was no suitable work in her western town so, after obtaining a brilliant pass in the Junior University Examination, Mary took a position in the Commonwealth Bank, Brisbane. She was a pretty girl, happy, good and loved by her girl companions. Indeed, everybody liked her for she was very thoughtful in dealing with others. Her mother gave her a parting gift of a large picture of Our Lady of Perpetual Succour. She came to Brisbane with a girl friend from her own home town. It was high adventure. Her relatives got them board and residence in a home at New Farm, Brisbane. On her dressing table was the picture of Our Lady of Perpetual Succour and Mary said the Rosary by the Shrine every evening. She got friendly with two boys-one was from the Bank where she worked, and the other was a traveller for a large firm. Both had cars and were outwardly good types. Mary liked them both. Then an upheaval occurred. The traveller was dismissed from his position on account of embezzlement of “collected funds.” His court sentence was suspended but he was given a bond. He found it difficult to obtain another good position. Mary felt very sorry for him. She often took him to a Church where the devotion to Our Lady of Perpetual Succour was said. She encouraged him when he was depressed but the boy went slowly downhill. He began to drink and then one night he caused an upheaval at Mary’s boardinghouse. He wanted to go to a “show,” but Mary determined to stay at home. He began to shout and make a noise. The other boarders were upset and Mary was told that if it happened again she would have to leave. It happened again and Mary was told to find other accommodation. It happened at the next and the next boarding house, and all the time the boy was deteriorating and becoming more like an animal.

Mary went and interviewed a detective at the C.I.B. who gave her some sound advice, reprimanded the boy and gave him a warning. Still, Mary felt great pity for him and asked a priest for advice. He told her to persevere in the devotions to Our Lady of Perpetual Succour.

The erstwhile traveller was becoming very low and cunning. He pestered Mary for money. She became more worried and hid from him in another boarding house at Teneriffe. One afternoon he watched her leave the bank, followed her home and told her he would make a noisy scene if she did not go out with him that night. Afraid of another upheaval Mary went with him and was driven to a park on the outskirts of Brisbane. There she was shot and he committed suicide. It seems sordid but all Mary’s friends think otherwise. Mary was a great apostle for the devotions to Our Lady of Perpetual Succour amongst her companions. The Picture of Our Lady was the most noticeable feature of her room. She constantly spoke of Our Lady. Her death seems pointless, but its stark tragedy brought her father back to the Faith. Her bank companion became a lay brother in a religious congregation, and her girl companion became a sister in a missionary order . . . Who can fathom the ways of God?

POSSESSED

At the close of the 1914–18 war, a very wealthy family lived outside a large town in northern New South Wales. The father had made, in a few years, a huge fortune. He had foreseen before the declaration of war, that there would be a great demand for good horses. He bought horses throughout the length and breadth of Australia, and the Army bought them from him; hence his great wealth. They were a Catholic family and very united to each other. The homestead was set in magnificent surroundings and the mother was the great “personage” of the home. They had one great sorrow, the youngest boy, then aged 15 years, took epileptic fits. In these fits he blasphemed and used violent and obscene language. When at peace he had an angelic face, but in fits he looked like a demon and acted like one.

One afternoon the mother of the home told the family that the Monsignor of the Parish-a great priest and a great friend of the familywas bringing a holy missioner to “bless the boy.” They were coming to afternoon tea.

The family were all present and in the way of country people all dressed-up to greet the priests. During the tea-drinking the boy had a fit. His face swelled and grew purple. He cursed impurely, and strangest of all, he cursed the Blessed Trinity-Father, Son and Holy Ghost-in doctrinal language which was entirely unknown to him. The Missioner was astounded. He heard the language of St. Thomas Aquinas from a boy in a fit who had the mind of a child. The mother ran to her son, gagged him, and held him tightly. He would have bitten the mother if he had not been gagged.

The Missioner blessed the boy with the prayers of the “Ritual.” As the last blessing was being given “in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost,” the boy howled shrilly and snapped out of the fit and became calm. The mother took the gag out of his mouth and asked all to act as if nothing had happened.

Before the Missioner departed he told the mother to pray to Our Lady of Perpetual Succour. He appealed to her to erect the Shrine of Our Lady in her home. The Picture of Our Lady of Perpetual Succour was bought. The two candlesticks for candles and the two vases for flowers were procured. The Shrine was erected and the Rosary said each night. The old Monsignor who knew most of the details and most of the background refused to discuss the matter. The years passed and the boy, who previously had at least one fit each week, did not have another. One of his sisters entered a convent. It appeared that the heel of Our Lady had crushed the head of the serpent.

“TATTOOED”

In 1940, on the sands of Moreton Island opposite Caloundra, guarding the ocean passage there were numerous six inch Naval guns. They were manned by R.A.N. personnel. A six inch Naval gun on land with a fixed base is a very tough and nasty weapon. They were camouflaged with sand and stunted mangrove trees. With the goodwill of commanding officers, two brothers (identical twins) were camped together and were part of the naval group in charge of the guns. It was impossible to separate the two sailor brothers. Feature by feature they were identical, although they were twenty-six years old. They had been in the Navy seven years, and had sailed over most of the seas in the “Far East.” They loved Singapore.

Visiting Moreton Island as a Naval Chaplain, I unexpectedly came on a group of sailors having a swim. The brothers were there; their backs were bare. They told me that at Singapore they had their backs tattooed whilst under the influence of drink. One had a naked girl tattooed over the whole of his back, and it was strangely obscene. The other had a full tattoo of the traditional picture of Our Lady of Perpetual Succour. Singapore is renowned, even in the East, for the wonderful work that is done by its tattoo operators. The tattoo of Our Lady of Perpetual Succour was startingly beautiful. The dual set-up was most bizarre. I knew each brother would have gone to great lengths to get rid of the tattoos.

Some years after, I met one of the brothers; his brother had died in the si nking of the Australian cruiser, the “Perth,” off Indonesia. This is his story:

The “Perth” was sinking, and the order had been given to “abandon ship.” The Jap cruisers kept on firing as they closed in on the crippled and doomed ship. The scuppers ran molten lead. The heat of the high-explosive shells turned cold steel into liquid metal. My brother caught hold of a steel bar, high off the deck to escape the boiling steel. He held on for some minutes and then began to weaken. Everywhere one could smell the stench of burning flesh. I was in the water watching my brother. His feet touched the stream and were burnt off in a matter of seconds. He died quickly. I swam away. About 40 of us were taken to Darwin, and I served the rest of the war in the Naval base at Launceston, Tasmania. My Catholic religion now means a lot to me and the devotion I have to Our Lady of Perpetual Succour is my greatest spiritual joy.

I told him I was sure that the picture of Our Lady tattooed on his back helped him. “Oh, no,” he said, “on my back, to my shame, is a naked girl; it was my brother who bore the picture of Our Lady of Perpetual Succour. It seems that Our Lady has given me a chance to repent of my folly.”

THE BARMAID

I was one of six girls who served liquor in a Queen Street hotel in Brisbane, Queensland. Three of us were Catholics and the year was 1922. It was rightly said that in those days a barmaid was either good or bad. She did not remain lukewarm or indifferent to holy things. If she tried to play with the fire of life she was quickly burnt. Quite a number of barmaids went to daily Mass and were very holy. They were attached to different devotions. In St. Stephen’s Cathedral, Brisbane, which we three attended, was a picture of Our Lady of Perpetual Succour. Many a prayer was said before that picture of the Mother of Christ. It was a pious custom to touch the picture on the completion of a prayer.

On my first morning at Mass, my girl companions told me that if I looked hard enough at the picture of Our Lady, it would glow and light up with a heavenly fire for the one who touched it. I scoffed at the idea. My people had a farm in a fertile belt outside Brisbane. I had two boy friends, one a farmer near my own home, and the other an acquaintance I had met when he came to the hotel-bar. The second seemed to have plenty of money and was most amusing. Everyone liked him but somehow I was doubtful. I seemed to hear my Mother’s Irish saying : “He is too sugary to be wholesome.” I knew that in the end I would have to face the issue, for the farmer lad was getting anxious. I determined to ask the Lady of the Picture. I went to Mass and Holy Communion, and then went up the Church to Our Lady’s picture. I touched it, and to my eyes it seemed to glow, and a conviction came into my mind: “Marry your farmer boy.”

I did so-and now as I write this letter, the old fellow-my husband-has just come in for his dinner. The eight kids have grown, or are growing up. I have had no explanation of the “glowing picture.” I had asked the priest, but his look was enough to shut me up. Needless to say, devotion to Our Lady of Perpetual Succour is my favourite devotion, and that is why I came to these devotions and have my own Shrine.

THE SHARK

During the war the Americans built long narrow piers out from Cleveland, Brisbane, into Moreton Bay. These piers were sometimes half a mile long and stretched over shallow water out to deep water where large vessels could bring or get supplies.

After the war the piers were used by residents and fishermen with motor-boats. One of the most fascinating set-ups was to watch the arrival of sharks when the tides began to come in. Out in the deep water they mobbed, and then began to come over the ledge into the shallow-water flats looking for food. The small ones first, and then the big ones. The torpedo black bodies would move with lightning speed, and their movements and antics would hold onlookers in their grip for long periods. They fascinated, because like all vermin, although most were timid and ready to rush off to deep water, some were brave; and then there was the odd one which was vicious and mean and quite unafraid. Drop a stone or a stick and these vicious ones would flash to the spot in seconds, ready to tear and rend for food. The mangrove mullet knew to be ready for the sudden darting rush.

One afternoon my children were playing on one of these piers as the tide was rapidly making. The black torpedo bodies would snap at the sticks thrown into the water. Then somehow the baby child fell, or was pushed into the water off the pier. A black body surged forward. Our dog leaped in. It seemed only moments before the big jaws closed around the dog. The child was pulled to the safety of the pier. Every one and everything was silent. Tragedies always leave an aftermath of silence.

When I hurriedly brought the toddler to my wife and told her of the happening, she told me she had been praying before our picture of Our Lady of Perpetual Succour. Since then, every morning and every evening, we say our prayers to Our Lady. The shadow of great tragedy came very near to our door. In our home are two holy pictures-one of Our Lady of Perpetual Succour, and the other of an angel guarding with great white wings, a child crossing a stream.

“NUTTIN” (NOTHING)

My husband was a big man, nearly nineteen stone in weight. He was healthy, strong, full of happiness and joy of life, which he always wished to pass on to others. When we married we went to Darwin. We prospered. We once owned the famous ricebowl of Darwin: “Humpty-Doo.”

My husband had a black boy, a man Friday, who in the way of black men worshipped my husband. This black boy was named Nipper. A priest once asked Nipper what was his religion! The black boy said: “The same as boss.” “And what is that?” asked the priest. “Nuttin,” said the black boy. Although “nuttin” may have been their religion, my husband and Nipper taught my children their prayers and catechism. Nipper in the laughing way of real black men, said that he was as good as a priest in teaching the children their catechism. The years went by, I had one ambition in my life, and that was to make a Catholic of my big husband. I asked Our Lady of Perpetual Succour for guidance. All my efforts failed. Nipper became sick and went to the Mater Public Hospital, Brisbane. The Sisters were fascinated by this happy black man who knew his prayers so well. When it was known he was dying, he was received into the Church. His mortal remains, in all their simplicity, lie buried in Nudgee Catholic cemetery. Still my big man remained aloof. He did not wish to change anything. Our Lady of Perpetual Succour was beseiged by me. My husband took different executive positions. Finally, he undertook to establish new cattle abattoirs at King Island, off Tasmania. One Sunday morning he became ill, he grew worse, and at his request I baptised him. We were far from any priest, an island off the mainland of Tasmania. A few minutes after I had baptised my husband and as I knelt in prayer to Our Lady of Perpetual Succour, a priest came in-just walked into the house as if he had been called. He heard my husband’s first Confession and gave him his first Holy Communion, and anointed him with the oil of salvation. His grave is on lonely King Island. There the Antarctic seabreezes often peal their funereal dirges. Thus, through the persistent love of my family to Our Lady of Perpetual Succour, my two men came into the true faith of Christ. They were both true and valiant men-big in many ways. One was white; the other was black.

THE WHITE FEATHER

We stood at the counter of a large emporium in Brisbane. We were three-an airman, his Mother and a Chaplain. The airman had asked to see some overcoats. It was mid-winter and he was dressed in faded shorts and wore sandals without socks. His cap was quite new. He told his Mother he got the R.A.A.F. Cap at Townsville, where the destroyer called on its way south. He was lucky to be alive. He was an airman-one of a squad of sixteen who had flown “Wirraways” against the Jap Zeros on their first strike against New Guinea. The whole sixteen of them had not lasted many minutes in the sky after they attacked the “Zeros.” He landed his disabled plane on the seashore, and with ten others had walked nearly two hundred miles of coast-line. The Navy put him on a destroyer and the Chaplain had brought his mother down to the mouth of the Brisbane River in the early morning to meet and welcome him. No one gave him any clothing, and Danny (for that was his name) did not know how to beg or scrounge. His mother realised that many eyes in the store were focussed on him, but she thought all were looking upon her son as a hero. Then it happened! An oldish man behind the counter, with a tight smile, handed him a pink envelope. The airman, surprised, tore open the envelope and out fell a white feather. The hush had a meanness. The mother cried, but Danny did nothing. I believe the girls who gave the old man the envelope thought he was a desk officer. Danny selected a coat, paid for it, and the three left the store. The mother told the Chaplain that the great devotion of her life was to Our Lady of Perpetual Succour. She also said that in the ordinary normal way of life Danny would have laughed at the white feather, but Danny was at the limit of his endurance and terribly affected. The motherappealed to Our Lady of Perpetual Succour. Her son’s sanity and life were at the crossroads. Danny would do anything for his Mother, for she often told the Chaplain that of all her children, Danny had “the gentle soul.” She got Danny to say the traditional prayers of Our Lady of Perpetual Succour. Danny grew well at his home and tried to forget his experiences. Our Lady loomed large in his life. His great delight was to prepare the Shrine-the picture of Our Lady of Perpetual Succour-the two lit candles and the two vases of fresh flowers cut from the garden by himself. The Chaplain told his friends that a morbid compulsion often drew him back to the great shop just to see the man with the tight smile who gave the white feather to the great airman. Danny went to England with the R.A.A.F. and was killed in England over Manchester on his first flight against the German bombers. His grave is in the war cemetery near Manchester. His mother has another son a priest and still says daily her prayers to Our Lady of Perpetual Succour who put her mantle around Danny when he needed her greatly. She will remember to her last breath the gentle soul of Danny before the holy Shrine.

“THE BLUE CAPE”

My husband and I are good Catholics and have lived ordinary and simple lives. Our only child, a daughter, aged 19 years, who is now almost a woman, had the best of homes, the best of food and clothes, and a very good education. She passed her Senior University examination. She is healthy and pretty.

Two months ago she left our home and took up lodgings with a girl-companion, in a flat in a very social suburb. What for? I did not like to ask myself. She paid no heed to the protests of my husband and myself. I was very upset; in fact, I lost control of everything; only pride kept me going. What would I do? What would I do? was the question I asked myself a thousand times. After some days something seemed to say, “Put your trust in Our Lady of Perpetual Succour”; and that is what I did.

Going through my daughter’s room I noticed the Blue Cape or Mantle of the Child of Mary, which my daughter left behind. I thought I heard the voice saying, “Send it to her.” I appealed to Our Lady. I wrapped the Blue Cape, after ironing it well, in new brown paper, and tied it with a big blue ribbon; posted it to my daughter and again appealed to Our Lady. Her flat-mate told me she looked at the Blue Cape as though she could not believe her eyes and dropped it like a deadly snake.

Last week my daughter came home. Again the voice seemed to say: “Do nothing and say nothing.” It was the correct thing to do. Now everything is alright. As long as I live, I will always try to look through the eyes of Our Lady of Perpetual Succour on my daughter and her ways, and then I will know that .I will do the right thing.

The Blue Cape saved my daughter; so you see why I love Our Lady of Perpetual Succour and the devotions in her honour.

THE INCOMING TIDE

The two young men were enjoying themselves immensely. The heat had been terrific and now they were swimming near the main pier at Sandgate, Brisbane. The tide was coming in and they did not notice the old man for some time. Suddenly they both became alert to his presence, for it seemed that the old man was in difficulties. They went to his aid. The old man fell over and began to beat the water in a feeble way. All he said was, “Get me a priest.” The two young men half-dragged and half carried the old man to the shore. Over the sands, a little old lady was coming to meet them. She looked most pathetic and seemed to sense the plight of the old fellow. “That’s my husband,” she said. “Is he very ill?” The old man lay on the sand blue in the face and quite unconscious. The old lady said her husband was a Catholic and she would like a priest to be called. Both the young men looked startled, for they were both priests. By mutual consent one gave absolution, the other ran and “phoned the local parish priest. There on the sand with the tide coming in the last rites of the Church were given and the old man died. The old couple had come from Ipswich (some 20 miles from Brisbane), and they were down for the day at the sea-shore. A few months after the funeral the old lady called on one of the priests. This is her story.

“My husband when he was young became very antagonistic to his religion. He mocked and raved at anything holy. He hated above all a priest. Someone told me about devotion to Our Lady of Perpetual Succour, so I determined to follow the devotions in my own home.

One night each week I erected my little shrine -the picture of Our Lady of Perpetual Succour, two lighted candles, and two vases of flowers. I said the Rosary. My husband always exploded in anger, but I met him face to face. It was the start of a weekly row. I remained true to the devotions, and each week erected my shrine despite his disapproval.

The years passed, and slowly he began to mellow. First of all he cut some flowers for me, knowing I would use them on the Shrine, and then one night he lit the candles for me. Apparently Our Lady had won. I brought him to Mass, but he was afraid to go to Confession. He told me he would go to Confession the Saturday afternoon following our excursion day to Sandgate. He did not get the chance. He died on the sand at the beach with the afternoon tide coming in. The one prayer I said each week before the Shrine was that he would have a priest with him when he died. He had three. In my sorrow they reminded me of God-Father, Son and Holy Ghost, for in the three priests I could only see one-one Christ.”

CAPTAIN MICHAEL

Michael stole whenever he could. His father thrashed him again and again but to no avail. After each beating Michael still wore his tight grin; and then his father tried the two pictures. One depicted the death of a good man. This room was lit up with a heavenly light, and the resplendent figure of Christ appeared at the end of the bed. Holy white angels were everywhere in the room. The other picture depicted the death of a bad man. His room was dark and gloomy. A big devil with smoke and fire jetting out of his mouth, stood at the end of the bed. Everywhere in the room were devils waiting to clutch the dying man’s soul. The father explained the pictures to the boy, and the boy was impressed. He did not steal for some time. Still Michael worried his father. He tried to drown a small child and the father worried that he would repeat the action. He knew Michael. Michael was very clever at school, and his joy in life was to fight boys bigger and stronger than himself. The fierceness of his attack was appalling. Then World War II came, Michael enlisted although he was under age.

He took the war very seriously. He was the ideal soldier. His uniform and equipment were kept immaculately clean and he was most proficient with all parts of army equipment, especially grenades. He rose in rank very quickly. When the Jap bombers struck Darwin, Michael, who was now Captain Michael, saved three lives and pulled seven dead people from the waters of the harbour. He did not know what fear was. He served with distinction in New Guinea and in the islands to the north. He received the Military Medal for wiping out a machine gun nest of Japs. The ferocity of his attack and the sight of the dead bodies awed Michael’s companions.

He became ill. The doctors diagnosed his complaint as cerebral malaria. He was sent back to Brisbane “mentally deranged.” He began to read religious books especially on the Mother of Christ. Finally he became obsessed with love of Our Lady of Perpetual Succour. He wrote everywhere for books and pictures, and became proud of his library in her honour. He had a letter and a picture from Father Murray, the Superior general of the Redemptorist Fathers at St. Alphonsus” Church, Rome, where St. Luke’s historical picture of Our Lady of Perpetual Succour is venerated. His father was happy, for Captain Michael in his love for the Mother of Christ had become gentle and kind and the old tensions were gone. The father who had watched Michael all his life, told a Priest that he thought something evil had departed out of the boy from the time he turned to Our Lady of Perpetual Succour. Apparently the heel of Our Lady had, once more, crushed the head of the Serpent.

LIGHTNING

The young University student played golf very well. He was very athletic. His parents had been Catholics but they had given up the practice of their Catholic Faith and had reared the boy (their only child) in a pagan way. Over the years they endeavoured to fill the mind of the young man with a contempt for anything religious. It was a planned campaign. He had passed his Junior and Senior University examinations with brilliant results. Now he was enrolled at the Queensland University and had completed three years of the engineering course.

It was St. Patrick’s Day and he was playing golf with a huge Catholic Priest who was his great friend. They had a lot in common and generosity was the mark of both. He was intrigued with the priest’s sallies and now the priest in his droll way was making him look at the collection of pictures of Our Lady of Perpetual Succour he had collected. The great gift of the huge priest was the gift of wishing things on the unwilling without offence. He appeared to be a child but was very wise and he knew the boy’s background of Catholicity. He had six varieties of pictures. The best one, all in black and gold, he said, came from St. Alphonsus” Church in Rome. Two varieties came from France, and two from America. Now, he said, the sixth came from Australia and it was sky-blue. It was, he continued, very pretty but was not true to the historic original.

The golf game went on for they played for a St. Patrick’s Day trophy. As they neared the golfing house a violent electric storm broke. The priest hurried to the golf-house, but the young man with two others ran to the shelter of a nearby large tree. The young man held a steel golf club in his hand. A most vivid flash of lightning struck the tree and it splintered in the middle. Those who were sheltering there were stunned but the young companion of the priest was hurt and blackened. When the others recovered, they noticed his plight as he lay in a puddle of water. He asked them to bring his priest friend. The priest came and the young man said he was dying and wanted to be baptised a Catholic. On the golf course he was baptised and the priest performed all the last rites of the Church. There was real spiritual joy on the injured face of the boy as he received his first Holy Communion. Before he died he told the priest that he had been keeping company with a Catholic girl whom he intended .to marry. He died on the course as the afternoon storm was ending. GOD IS NOT MOCKED

The two young men both played Rugby League football well. Both were married and two children graced each home. They were now getting dressed for football. One in his marriage had given up the practice of his Catholic religion, the other in his marriage had drawn closer to his Church. Whilst they were dressing the brown scapular of the good Catholic caught in his shirt as he was pulling it over his head and he got into difficulties. His friend released him. “So you still wear that superstition,” he said. How can a piece of brown cloth with a picture on it be of any assistance? The good Catholic did not reply but he placed the scapular over his shirt in his locker for the cord was broken.

When the game was over he became aware that a little stray dog was the source of merriment amongst his mates. He looked at the dog and found that someone had tied hisbrown scapular around the dog’s neck. He retrieved his property and said he did not like anything holy of his to be mocked. No one said anything more.

Some years later he was coming home in the train with his friend when the plastic strap broke on the parcel he was carrying and numerous brown scapulars were revealed. His friend laughed and asked him whether he was going in for scapulars in a wholesale way. “No,” he said, “these scapulars are for the children of the Catholic School who are making their First Holy Communion. I know you have given up your Faith, but do not mock it, for that frightens me. Mockery, like scandal, is threeedged. It sins against God, it hurts the mocker, and it can hurt the mocked. I think of Christ’s words-God is not mocked, solet us remain friends but don’t make fun of my Catholic religion. Our Blessed Lady means a lot to me. I have her Shrine in my home-the picture of Our Lady of Perpetual Succour, the Candles, and Vases of Flowers and we all, as a family, say the Rosary before that Shrine each evening. Surely I have the right to do that without being mocked or having to apologise. They nodded coldly when they separated near their homes.

It was dark, cold, and it was raining. Later that night as the good Catholic family was saying the Rosary, the “phone rang. Apparently the wife and two children of the mocker were coming home in the dark and were all killed by a motor truck. The husband was bereft. At first he was stunned and he cursed and raved but that did not bring his dead back to life. He now had nothing on which to lean. He broke down on his friend’s shoulder and sobbingly told him it was he who had draped the brown scapular around the little mongrel dog. It had worried him and over the years it seemed to grow meaner and meaner. He had always loved to mock and the scapular seemed like a flag which he deserted. He mocked everything holy when he could but now apparently God had struck back and left him naked. Nothing remained-life held nothing. His friend tried to console him and brought him back to his home. He knelt with the rest and the Rosary was finished before the Shrine of the Mother of Christ.

MASSIVE HANDS

The gaunt old lady was dying on a verandah bed at the Mater Public Hospital, Brisbane. She had been in hospital for six months. Her complaint originated from “diabetes.” Everybody liked her. The Sisters of the hospital looked upon her “as indispensable” for she was always doing something useful. She always radiated peace and happiness and her bright smile brought a response from all who came in contact with her.

Her son and daughter sat at her bedside. On the table at her bedside was a picture of Our Lady of Perpetual Succour. The most notable feature about her was her large muscular hands. They were naturally huge and massive and now they were swollen. The old lady died fortified with all the rites of her Catholic religion.

The daughter after the funeral at Toowong Cemetery, Brisbane, wrote a letter about her mother to a priest.

“My mother in her early days was plagued with a violent temper. After my father’s death it grew worse. She was a big woman, and in a rage, with her own hands she choked and killed her sister. When questioned by the police she made no denial and frankly admitted everything. She was convicted for murder. She served twenty years in the State Penitentiary and my brother and I were reared in a Catholic orphanage. During her years of imprisonment my mother grew to love Our Lady of Perpetual Succour. A priest taught her this holy devotion to the Mother of Christ. On her release we came together. Our lives have been difficult but despite hard times we remained together.

The sole joy of my mother’s life for the last ten years was erecting the Shrine of Our Lady each night in our small home off Coronation Drive, Brisbane. There she found peace and from the Shrine gathered in her smiling countenance a holy radiance which most found irresistible. The naturally massive hands became enormous and enlarged as the result of sewing canvas whilst in prison. I love the devotion to Our Lady of Perpetual Succour because to the end it gave courage, holiness and happiness to my mother. I pray that my brotherand I will be equally as loyal.”

BAPTISM AT SEA

He knew he would remember all the days of his life this great gathering of ships on the high seas. Its designation was “Rendezvous.” Ships were everywhere. Great massive aircraft carriers surrounded by monster battleships, cruisers of the line, numerous destroyers and many other naval ships. All were stripped for fighting and were going north along the Queensland coast. They had refuelled at the great seaports of America and Australia. The Australian Navy was well represented. Destination was the port of Wewak along the northern New Guinea coastline. The necessity of “softening up” a port or island before marines landed was dominant in General McArthur’s design of war. Wewak felt the full force of the great blast of the naval guns and it seemed that nothing could have survived. Still no signal was given to land. The next day bombardment was again commenced and nothing appeared to be left standing. The marines landed and the Japs appeared like ants in their thousands. The battle raged, but in the end the Japs took to the hills. A fortified port was established.

On the way to Wewak the engines of an Australian destroyer failed. The great armada passed on its way. It was submarine area in a restricted passage. Danger threatened. Two Australian destroyers ranged close to their powerless sister and began to take off personnel. In the middle of the operations the alarm sounded-Jap planes and submarines. The two destroyers quickly disappeared into the mists over the horizon. Numerous whale boats were scattered on the sea. They were strafed with machines guns by the Jap planes. Westerly winds began to blow with gale force and accidents quickly followed. Three boats capsized. In one boat there were seven men and all were injured and wounded. Nothing could be done except wait. Waiting in an open boat tossed by high winds and waves is a frightful ordeal. Sullen despondency sits on everybody and nerves fray and crack. It is easy to lose control. The strongest man in theboat broke first. “Why don’t you pray better, why don’t you pray ?” he said to the priest, “get us out of this mess with your prayers.” The little silent officer who had been number one on the destroyer, said “Shut up! for heaven’s sake shut up!” He told the priest he was badly wounded, and knew he would die. He wished to become a Catholic for in every letter he received from his wife and children they wrote how they prayed to Our Lady of Perpetual Succour to guard and help him. This part brought tears to his eyes. Now he was going to die, could the priest do anything for him? He knew all the prayers his wife and children said at home. He knew the life of Christ and what the Mass and Sacraments were. How much more was needed. “Nothing more,” said the priest, and there in an open boat on an open sea, the naval man was baptised. He made his first confession, was anointed and died.

Only three of the seven lived through the ordeal. The priest was one. Months afterwards he met the widow and her children and told all the circumstances of the naval man’s death. The widow’s sole remark was that her holy confidence in Our Lady of Perpetual Succour was not misplaced. The priest as he went away thought of Christ’s words: “Everyone who liveth and believeth in me shall notdie forever.”

A FOOL FOR OUR LADY

He was in hospital and was far from anyone he knew. He was a priest and was frightened not so much that he would die, but at the treatment his condition demanded. It was the first time he had seen or received a blood transfusion and the ordeal appalled. Then there was the intricate instrument which kept all food from his body. It was a nightmare. The hospital authorities told him that the doctors were going to operate and that there was little chance he would live. He did not care very much but many thoughts crowded his mind and confused him. In the end he made his mind call up the picture of Our Lady of Perpetual Succour and there he tried to anchor it whilst he waited to go to the operating table. The final dressing with white cap and white socks gave him an awful jolt. He did not know such things were done or necessary. He brought his mind back to Our Lady of Perpetual Succour for he knew he was a priest and it was right that at such a time he should completely concentrate on holy thoughts. Our Lady must have helped. Whilst he lay on the operating table he became depressed at the silent white figures of the doctors and nurses, but the image of Our Lady seemed to steady his mind and keep it calm. The new anaesthetic that brings oblivion with a single plunge of needle found a willing victim, and he awoke some hours later with the image of the Mother of Christ before him. Our Lady was ironing out many of his difficulties. He spent months in bed. He lived, but he was told that he was still in the woods and then they operated again. He acted as he did in the first operation but he felt less afraid. They operated seven times, and finally he was not afraid, for the Mother of Christ always gave him help and encouragement. He was told that in all probability he would die, and that saddened him for then, he thought he would not be able to do anything priestly again. He was denied all medicine for relief of pain. The great surgeon told him that the battle was not won through palliatives.

He appealed to Our Lady, and the conviction came that if he endeavoured to do something special for her cause, he would receive help in a heavenly way. “Special” seemed to convey the right idea, but how could he make it “operative.” Time, no doubt would suggest a way. Perhaps after all, he thought, during the many long hours of night, it might not be paying too high a price to become a fool for the sake of Our Lady, because what looked folly could be truth, and that when he really came to the end of his life, the folly he sought could pay higher dividends than the wisdom of this world. “A fool of himself” could well be that he would place Our Lady first always and not stop because others might consider him foolish to go ahead. He decided he would alwaysendeavour to go ahead for Our Lady’s cause against himself and any human objections or considerations.

Surely he is now foolish from a worldly angle in publishing these letters in honour of Our Lady. He is also performing an act which is special for him, and foreign to his way of living. Despite the predictions of many, he is well and is able to do his priestly duties. He now hopes to keep on fulfilling his promise to the Mother of Christ, because he has already heard the beat of the waves on the eternal shore, and they are never entirely forgotten. Often from imminent fear of death, one may try to go beyond “seeing in a mirror as in a dark place” about which St. Paul speaks, and try to imagine in a human way things on the other side where everything is face to face.

THE POWER OF CHRIST”S MOTHER

He will always do what I, His Mother, wish however untimely or however undeserved.

In the small town of Cana, of Galilee, there was a marriage feast to which Christ, his Mother, and some of His disciples were invited. The people were poor and during the feast to their embarrassment, they found they did not have sufficient wine for their guests.

The Mother of Christ said to Him : “They have no wine.” And Jesus saith to her: “Woman, what is that to me and to thee. Myhour is not yet come.” His Mother saith to the waiters : “Whatsoever he shall say to you, do ye.” Now there were set there six waterpots of stone. Jesus saith to them : “Fill the water-pots with water.” And they filled them up to the brim. And Jesus saithto them : “Draw out now and carry to the chief steward of the feast.” And they carried it. And when the chief steward had tasted the water made wine and knew not whence it was, but the waiters knew who had drawn the water; the chief steward calleth the bridegroom, and saith to him “Every man at first setteth forth good wine, and when men have well drunk then that which is worse. But thou hast kept the good wine until now.”

This beginning of miracles did Jesus in Cana of Galilee.

Gospel of St. John, Ch. 2—vs. 3 to 11.

These letter-stories are built on realities and each reality is based on a spiritual influence attributed to Our Lady. The letters sound a true spiritual note for they come out of the daily lives of people.

Imprimatur

@ JAMES DUHIG, Archbishop of Brisbane

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Life of Christ

DR. L. RUMBLE, M.S.C

INTRODUCTION

INDEX

JESUS CHRIST, whose first name means “Saviour” and whose second name means “Anointed” or “Consecrated,” was born, not when our calendar says He was, but about six years earlier.

Our present calendar was drawn up by Dionysius Exiguus in the 6th century A.D., and we know that he was some six years out in his calculations.

The mistake of Dionysius, of course, has nothing to do with the historical fact of Our Lord’s birth. It only means that what we thought of as, say, 1950 A.D., was really more like 1956 A.D.

For the actual facts about Christ we are mainly dependent upon the four gospels. These, however, have been subjected to an exhaustive examination such as no other documents have had to undergo, and their authenticity as documents is beyond reasonable dispute.

The authors were in a position to write thoroughly good history. Were the documents concerned with an ordinary man, and did they deal with none but ordinary utterances and events, no one would dream of doubting their reliability.

It is what they contain that unbelievers declare incredible; and that, only when the gospels mention things beyond the range of normal human experience. When they deal with all that belongs to the ordinary and natural sphere, research has shown them to be accuracy itself whether in regard to persons, places or things.

It is sheer prejudice against any religious revelation by God, and above all against the possibility of confirming such a revelation by miracles, which makes men regard the evangelists as either having taken leave of their senses, or else as having been positively dishonest, whenever they recorded as actual fact anything savouring of the supernatural or miraculous. These unbelievers have not approached the gospels with open minds, despite their boasting that they have done precisely that.

There is no room in this little book to discuss their position. Nor is there need to do so. It will be enough to set out briefly the life of Christ as depicted in the gospels, necessarily omitting much for purposes of condensation, but taking care in all that is said to remain strictly faithful to the basic facts recorded in our unimpeachable sources.

1 The Setting

Jesus was born in the little town of Bethlehem, in Palestine, a small country only 150 miles long and from 50 to 80 miles wide, on the extreme East coast of the Mediterranean Sea. Palestine, therefore, is only about half the size of Tasmania.

It takes its name from the Philistines, a pagan people who settled on the coast of the country at about the same time as the Hebrews or People of Israel conquered the mountain land some 1300 years before the birth of Jesus.

At the time of His birth the People of Israel, called Jews after the main tribe of Juda, had themselves been conquered by the Romans. True, they had a king named Herod the Great; but he had been appointed by Rome and was subject to the Roman Emperor.

Herod the Great died in 4 B.C., about two years after Jesus was born.

Then the Romans divided Palestine into four parts. One of Herod’s sons, Archelaus, was to rule over Judea and Samaria, in the South; another, Philip was given Iturea in the North-East; a third son, Herod Antipas, ruled over Galilee in the North-West and Perea in the South-East; whilst Rome directly ruled over Decapolis, an area East of the Jordan.

When Jesus was a boy of about twelve, Archelaus was deposed by the Romans for being too despotic, and Roman Governors were appointed instead, to rule over Judea and Samaria.

One of these Governors was Pontius Pilate, who was in charge from 26 A.D. until 36 A.D.

It was under Pontius Pilate that Jesus was to die.

The Jews were a very religious people. All the nations around them were pagans, but they worshipped the one true God, carefully observing the laws given to them by Moses. The main centre of their worship was the great Temple in Jerusalem, the capital of Judea. In the different villages they had synagogues or meeting-places for prayer and the reading of the Scriptures; but sacrifice could be offered to God only in the one Temple at Jerusalem. Because of this, on great religious festivals thousands of Jews would flock there from all parts of Palestine, and even from other countries overseas.

Among the Jews there were several parties, two of which are very often mentioned in the gospels, the Pharisees and the Sadducees.

The Pharisees, or “Separated Ones,” claimed to observe the Mosaic Law perfectly, much better than the rest of the Jews. But whilst they were most exact outwardly, most of them were proud and very hard and uncharitable towards others. Not all were like that, of course. There were some really good, sincere and holy men among them.

The Sadducees, or “Descendants of Sadoc” (“Sadoc” means “Justice”), belonged to the richer classes. They were very worldly and, although they did not deny that the Law of Moses should be observed, they were not very strict about it. Many of them denied the existence of a future life and’ other orthodox teachings. Most of the Jewish priests belonged to these Sadducees.

The Jews, generally, were not very contented under the rule of the Romans; and as their religion taught them to look forwards towards a Messiah or divinely sent Saviour, most of them hoped he would be a great political and military leader who would defeat the Romans and make themselves the greatest nation in the world.

Such was the setting in Palestine when Jesus was born in Bethlehem.

2 Birth of Jesus

Most biographies of people begin with an account of their birth and, perhaps, of their family history. But whilst the life of Jesus as born into this world began in Bethlehem, it cannot be said that He personally began to exist only then. Before the Incarnation, He had always lived in Heaven; and it would be impossible to get back to the beginning of His life there, for He is the Eternal Son of God. To be eternal is to be without a beginning at all! But that aspect of His life would take us beyond history as we know it.

St. John’s gospel, however, tells us that one day He made this world, and indeed the whole universe, ages before He came into it Himself; and when He did come into our midst as Man to redeem and save us, He told us that He still belonged to Heaven; and always He spoke, of it as only one could speak who is perfectly familiar with everything there. We shall meet with many such utterances in the course of His life on earth within our historical framework, the aspect of His life with which this booklet is concerned.

We have already said that Herod the Great died in the year 4 B.C., according to our present calendar. Now about three years before that, there was living at Nazareth, a little town in the hills of Galilee, a young Jewish girl named Mary.

In the same town there dwelt a carpenter named Joseph to whom she was betrothed, and to whom she was soon to bind herself in the final marriage ceremonies. Both Mary and Joseph belonged to the tribe of Juda and were descendants of King David, although they were in poor circumstances, as were so many others of David’s line.

One day, whilst Mary was alone at prayer, God sent the angel Gabriel to her With the tremendous news that the great Hope of Israel was to be fulfilled as last, and that she was to be the Mother of the Messiah. “Hail, full of grace, the Lord is with you,” the angel said, appearing before her. “The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you. Therefore the Holy One to be born of you shall be called the Son of God.”

Mary replied: “Behold the handmaid of the Lord. Be it done unto me according to your word.” And in that moment Jesus was miraculously conceived in her womb. The Divine Son, eternally generated of the Divine Father in Heaven without a mother, was to be born in a human nature of a human Mother without the intervention of any earthly father.

This would be incredible were it a question of any ordinary person. But Jesus, the Child of Mary, was not an ordinary person. The study of His character and of His subsequent career in this world is enough to show this, and that a miraculous entry into this world is the most fitting and natural thing to be expected in His case.

Nor have we only Mary’s word for the fact of the miraculous conception of Jesus. The truth about it was independently revealed to Joseph. “Joseph, son of David,” an angel said to him also, “fear not to take Mary as your wife, for it is by the power of the Holy Ghost that she has conceived this child.”

So the formalities of the marriage were completed; and when her time was come, Joseph having taken her to Bethlehem, she brought forth her Child there, in the village known as the city of David. They had gone there in obedience to a Decree of Caesar Augustus, the Roman Emperor, ordering all to report at that time in their home towns for purposes of a census.

Divine notification of the coming of the Messiah had already been given to Elizabeth, Mary’s cousin; and now that He had come, the fact was revealed to a little group of shepherds out on the nearby hills. Angels appeared to them, bringing them the news “this day is born to you a Saviour,” and delighting them with the lovely song of praise and consolation: “Glory to God in the Highest, and peace on earth to men of goodwill.” Needless to say, the shepherds went at once with great joy to visit Him.

Magi, or wise men from the East, came also, under heavenly guidance; but their coming alarmed the old king Herod the Great, who was half mad with suspicions of possible rivals in his last distraught days. As a precaution, he ordered the murder of all male children under two years of age in Bethlehem and its vicinity. But Joseph had been divinely warned to take the Child and His Mother to Egypt, in order to escape the slaughter.

3 Childhood at Nazareth

After the death of Herod in 4 B.C. the little family returned. Joseph had intended to settle at Bethlehem; but since the brutal Archelaus, one of Herod’s sons, had been appointed ruler of Judea, he thought it wiser to go back to Nazareth in Galilee, which was under the control of another of Herod’s sons, Herod Antipas.

At Nazareth Jesus was brought up as a pious Jewish Child; and He was the only Child. Those called “brothers and sisters” in the gospels were but cousins at most. It was customary among the Jews to call any relatives within the same tribe “brethren.”

From the age of six or seven, children would attend the local synagogue where they were taught their religion and the other ordinary subjects, reading, writing and simple arithmetic. Jesus became deeply versed both in Jewish traditions and in the Scriptures. In His discourses later on, quotations are to be found from many books of the Old Testament. Owing to the presence of so many Gentiles in Galilee, He would almost certainly have learned to speak Greek; but Greek philosophical and religious ideas contributed in no way towards His education. There are no traces of them in His later utterances.

Of the sheer goodness and virtue which reigned in that little home at Nazareth there is no need to speak. There, St. Luke tells us, “Jesus grew in wisdom and grace with God and men.”

One incident only is given us concerning the childhood of Jesus at Nazareth. Every year Joseph and Mary used to make the eighty-mile journey to Jerusalem for the Feast of the Passover, a great religious festival like our Easter, celebrating the “exodus” or delivery of the Jews by Moses from slavery in Egypt about 1300 B.C.

Children were allowed to attend the ceremonies from about the age of twelve; and we are told that at that age Jesus went with Joseph and Mary to Jerusalem for the festival. There He became separated from them in the immense crowds, and they searched for Him for three days before finding Him in the Temple discussing religion with the Jewish teachers, whom He had astonished by manifesting an understanding of the Scriptures far greater than was natural to any boy of twelve. And still more characteristically supernatural, if anything, was the way in which He spoke to His Mother when she found Him.

She had exclaimed: “My Son, why have you behaved like this, causing your father and myself so much anxiety in searching for you?” To which He replied: “What need had you to search for Me? Did you not know that I must be in My Father’s house?” As the Eternal Son of God who had come into this world, He stressed that His duty to His heavenly Father was above all lesser loyalties; and these first recorded words of Jesus were a veiled declaration of His Divinity, the implications of which not even Joseph and Mary had yet fully grasped.

He at once went down to Nazareth with them, however, and was subject to them.

Of the next eighteen years we are told nothing, except that He followed Joseph’s trade, so that He was spoken of as “the carpenter, the son of Mary.” At some time during those eighteen years Joseph died and Jesus worked on, putting a little by to provide for His Mother’s future against the time when He Himself would have to leave her.

4 John the Baptist

When Jesus was about thirty, in the 15th year of the reign of the Roman Emperor, Tiberius Caesar, a prophet who had been living like a hermit in the desert came to the River Jordan some miles East of Jerusalem and just North of the Dead Sea. There he began to preach to the people, baptising in the river waters all whom he converted.

He was known as John the Baptist, the son of Zachary and Mary’s relative Elizabeth, and was, therefore a relative of Jesus Himself.

We know nothing of John between his birth and his sudden appearance on the banks of the Jordan. His father, however, had told him of the revelation at his birth that he was to prepare the way of the Lord.

At that time there was keen excitement among the Jews. Everyone was talking about the promised Messiah; and, although the leaders took no notice of John, the common people were deeply impressed by him.

Ever-growing crowds flocked to hear him, and he did his utmost to bring them to a sincere repentance of their sins. He demanded humility instead of pride, genuine goodness instead of empty talk about it; and he did not spare the hypocrisy of the Scribes and Pharisees.

Constantly he had to reply to questions the people kept asking about himself. Was he the prophet? Was he the Christ, the Messiah? Was he the Great One, promised of old? But to them all John said no, he was not. He described himself as only a. voice crying in the wilderness. The Messiah was to come, and very soon. He, John, was but a poor messenger, preparing the way for him.

5 Jesus Begins His Ministry

John’s mission was the sign that it was time for Jesus to begin His public life. He therefore left Nazareth and went to the Jordan where John was preaching and asked to be baptised. John protested, but Jesus insisted; and as He was baptised the Holy Spirit descended upon Him from Heaven in the form of a dove, and a voice came, saying: “Thou art my beloved Son. In Thee I am well pleased.” Jesus had not come to receive John’s Baptism as a sinner needing to be cleansed, but He had come to receive the divine approval for the solemn beginning of His mission as the Teacher and Saviour of mankind.

After His baptism, Jesus at once went into the barren hill-country of Judea to give Himself to prayer and fasting for forty days, at the end of which time the devil came to tempt Him.

In the Incarnation the Eternal Son of God had taken as His own a truly human nature, and He allowed the devil to suggest the use of His miraculous powers to satisfy His own bodily craving for food after so long a fast, and even to adopt the ways of the world in order to win the world, performing startling prodigies and doing homage to Satan at the expense of His heavenly Father’s claim upon Him.

The devil’s idea was to offer an easy road to success in founding an earthly kingdom in accordance with popular Jewish aspirations at the time.

But Jesus had come neither to seek His own comfort, nor to establish a kingdom of this world. He rejected the temptations, three times declaring simply that the Will of God, with which the devil’s suggestions could not possibly be reconciled, was the one thing of supreme importance.

Defeated, the devil left Him; and angels came and ministered to Him.

Jesus then returned to John the Baptist, whom he had left six weeks ago, in order to begin His Ministry side by side with the Precursor. But the holy prophet, seeing Him coming towards the place where he was baptising, said to the bystanders: “This is He of whom I have been speaking to you, Behold the Lamb of God.”

Two of John’s disciples, one of them also named John, and the other Andrew, followed Jesus later as He was returning to His lodgings, and spent the evening With Him. He told them of the Kingdom of God He had come to establish, and answered all their eager questions.

Next day Andrew went to find his brother Simon. “We have found the Messiah,” he told Simon, and brought him to Jesus. As soon as He met him, Jesus changed Simon’s name to Peter, in Aramaic “Kepha,” a word meaning “rock.” But Simon was not told at that time why his name was changed.

Later, James the brother of John joined the little~ group; then Philip; and he in turn brought Nathanael also. In those first few days, therefore, Jesus had won six disciples, all of whom were later to be numbered among His twelve Apostles. 6 Journey to Galilee

At about this same time Jesus set out for Galilee, taking His new disciples, who were all Galileans with Him.

On the way, they came to the village of Cana. They arrived in time for a wedding-feast to which He and His disciples had been invited; and there He met His Mother who had been invited also, and who had come from Nazareth, four miles away, in order to be present.

It was there, at His Mother’s request, that He performed His first miracle, after declaring that the time for such manifestations of His divine power had really not yet come. But the wine had given out, and His Mother was concerned about the embarrassment this would be to their hosts. In order to please His Mother, then, and spare them the embarrassment, He turned water into a plentiful supply of wine. Only a week ago He had refused to turn stones into bread. Here, however, it was not a matter of satisfying His own hunger, but of providing for the needs of others.

From Cana He went to Capharnaum, then a flourishing village on the shores of the Lake of Galilee.

Capharnaum was to become the centre for His work in Galilee, but this time He did not stay long. Almost a week later He was in Jerusalem, having journeyed eighty miles to be present in the Holy City for the Feast of the Passover.

There, indignant at the desecration of the Temple by the trading that was going on within its precincts, He gave the first display of His prophetic authority in public, flogging the merchants and all the animals out of the premises with a whip, and overturning the tables of the money-changers. “It is written: My House is a House of Prayer,” He said, “but you have made it a den of thieves.”

The Scribes and Pharisees and Priests were very angry at this and crowded round Him, demanding what right He had to act in such a way. He wrought no miracle then to justify His divine authority, but merely said: “Destroy this temple, and in three days I will raise it up again.” He was referring to the temple of His Body, knowing that eventually they would kill Him, but that on the third day after that He would rise again from the dead. For the time being, however, He left them to puzzle it out for themselves.

One of the Pharisees, a member of the Sanhedrin or Council of the Jews, a man named Nicodemus, was deeply impressed by the majesty and power of Jesus. So he came to Him at night, being afraid to do so openly, wanting to know just what new teaching He had to give.

Jesus explained to him that the Messianic kingdom was not to be one of political and worldly power. It was to be one of God’s rule within souls lifted to a higher plane of life than any earthly parents could give. This new life would require a new birth by water and the Holy Spirit. Jesus here spoke of the new, greater and sacramental rite of baptism which John the Baptist had said would far surpass his own and be proper to the Messiah.

The very idea of such a baptismal re-birth was quite beyond Nicodemus and he frankly admitted it. Jesus therefore said to him: “If you cannot understand that God’s Spirit is needed to give a spiritual life, how can you grasp even deeper heavenly mysteries? But at least believe Me when I tell you of them. I am speaking of what I know, for I have come from heaven, even as I am still in heaven. No other man on earth can speak of them from personal experience, for no man has been to heaven and back to be able to do so.”

And He continued: “God so loved the world as to give His only-begotten Son; and He must be lifted up as Moses lifted up the serpent in the desert, so that all who look to Him may be saved.”

Nicodemus went away, thoughtful and profoundly moved; and there could be no doubt that eventually he, too, would become a disciple. In fact, it was he who, after the Crucifixion, assisted Joseph of Arimathea in providing honourable burial for the body of Christ, and he has been revered by the Church through the ages as St. Nicodemus.

The bitter hostility of the Scribes and Pharisees generally, however, made it quite clear that the message of Jesus had no chance of acceptance in Jerusalem; but He had at least offered Himself to the Jewish authorities there as the Messiah. Now He withdrew from the Holy City, exercising His ministry among the country people of Judea.

After a few months there came the sad news that John the Baptist had been cast into prison by Herod Antipas, who was angered by John’s denunciation of his immorality. This meant the end of the Precursor’s mission, and Jesus at once began in earnest His own great life-work.

Taking His disciples with Him, He left for Galilee, passing through Samaria on the way.

He preached the actual arrival of the Kingdom of God, urging people to repent of their sins and to accept the good news or gospel being offered to them from heaven.

Usually in His discourses He was silent about His own Messiahship because of the prevalence of so many wrong ideas about the coming of a political leader to make of the Jews the greatest nation on earth.

To the Samaritans, however, who were not so deeply affected by these notions as were the Jews, He spoke plainly. Thus, at Jacob’s well, He replied “I am He” to the woman of Samaria who had mentioned the Messiah whom God had promised to send. Elsewhere He called Himself, as a rule, the “Son of Man;” but He spoke always as a prophet and teacher of marvellous authority, shown equally in His words and work.

On His journey through Galilee He stopped at Cana where He had wrought the miracle of water turned into wine, and whilst He was there one of King Herod’s officers came to Him from Capharnaum, twenty miles away, begging Him to come and save his dying son.

Jesus told him simply not to worry, for the boy was cured. On the way home, met by servants who had run to tell him the good news that the boy had suddenly recovered, the officer asked when, only to be told that it was precisely at 1 P.M., the very time when Jesus had spoken to him. He and his whole family, therefore, believed in the claims of Jesus.

7 The Kingdom and the Apostles

St. Luke tells us that Jesus, having “returned in the power of the Spirit into Galilee, the fame of Him went out through the whole country. And He taught in their synagogues and was magnified by all. And He came to Nazareth, where He had been brought up.

Here particularly was verified the declaration in St. John’s gospel that “He came unto His own, and His own received Him not.” His claim in the synagogue at Nazareth to be the One whose advent had been predicted by Isaiah the prophet was rejected with the scornful remark that He was but the son of Joseph the carpenter; and sadly exclaiming that ‘‘no prophet is accepted in his own country,’’ He went down to Capharnaum on the lakeside, making that town headquarters for His Galilean ministry.

On the first Sabbath after His arrival in Capharnaum, He spoke in the synagogue and met with a very different reception from that given Him in Nazareth. The people were enthusiastic about His teaching, sensing a divine authority in His words far beyond anything they had experienced in those of the Scribes and Pharisees. Moreover, at the end of His discourse, Jesus with a word cast the evil spirit out of a possessed man so that the people, amazed, spread far and wide the story of the incident.

Leaving the synagogue for the home of Peter and Andrew, He there found the mother of Peter’s wife ill with fever, but He cured her at once and she prepared a meal for them all.

That evening crowds of sick people were brought to Him and He healed their diseases, working late into the night; yet, tired as He must have been, He rose before daybreak and went off to a lonely place in the hills to pray, a habit of His all His life.

From Capharnaum He made many preaching tours through Galilee, meeting with ever-growing success.

He had come, however, to establish a Kingdom, as He Himself declared, saying: “I must preach the Kingdom of God, for therefore am I sent.” Although this Kingdom was not of this world, it was to be in this world and to last till the end of time, long after He Himself had returned to the Heaven from which He came. For the foundation of this Kingdom He was to choose from among His disciples twelve men whom He would train personally before sending them out to continue His work.

One evening, therefore, in preparation for this, He went alone into the mountains and prayed all through the night. Next morning He called His disciples together and chose the twelve, conferring upon them the title of Apostles.

The chosen ones were Simon Peter; Andrew; James; John; Philip; Nathanael, known also as Bartholomew; Matthew; Thomas; James, the son of Alpheus; Simon Zelotes; Jude, the brother of James; and Judas Iscariot, who eventually was to betray Him.

This was one of the greatest events of history, the beginning of the Church as the Kingdom of God on Earth. And it was followed by one of the most important utterances ever to come from human lips. For immediately afterwards, with His newly-chosen Apostles about Him, He gave to the people the great discourse known as the “Sermon on the Mount.”

So Jesus, who had come, as He said, not to destroy the Law and the Prophets but to usher in their perfect fulfilment, laid the foundations of the “Kingdom of God” or the “Kingdom of Heaven” (He spoke of it in both ways), which He called His Church.

8 Manifestations of Divine Power

At about this same time Jesus made a brief visit to Jerusalem for one of the festival days. Whilst there, to the scandal of the Scribes and Pharisees once more, He healed a man on the Sabbath who had been crippled for thirty-eight years.

In answer to their complaints He asserted that He had all the rights of God over the Sabbath, that He was equally God with His Father, and that some day at His bidding all men would rise from their graves and that He would be their judge.

This filled His critics with still more anger and strengthened their determination to find ways and means to kill Him.

Leaving Jerusalem, He returned to Galilee and continued preaching in various synagogues; but representatives of the Scribes and Pharisees followed Him wherever He went, spying upon Him, interrupting Him, disputing with Him, and gathering all the Information which they thought they could later use against Him. But Jesus went on teaching and doing good.

One day, as He entered a village, a poor leper met Him and cried out piteously: “Lord, if Thou wilt, Thou canst make me clean.” Jesus reached out and touched him, saying: “I will. Be thou cleansed.” The leprosy at once vanished and the man was bidden to go and to report himself to the priest as cured.

The fame of the miracle quickly spread and when Jesus arrived at last in Capharnaum people came in such numbers to the house where He was staying that the room was overflowing, with crowds outside trying, yet unable to get in.

As He was teaching them, a paralysed man was brought by some friends. These tore away the tiles of the roof since there was no other means of entry, and let the patient down by ropes to the feet of Jesus. Far from being angry, Jesus was deeply moved and said to the sick man: “Thy sins are forgiven thee.”

The Scribes and Pharisees present thought: “This, at any rate, is blasphemy. Who can forgive sins but God alone?” Jesus, however, reading their minds, said: “You think I have not that power? Then see this!” Turning to the palsied man, He said: “Take up your bed and go home.” The man at once did so, to the amazement of all. And on all sides people glorified God, saying: “We have never seen anything like this before!”

A few days later He healed the sick servant of a Roman centurion at the request of the Jewish people who urged that, although he was a heathen, the centurion had built a synagogue for them.

One morning after that, He left at daybreak for Naim, a village some twenty-four miles away. He arrived there in the evening—the time when funerals usually took place-and met that of a dead boy, the only son of a poor widow. “Weep not,” He said to the mother; and with a word He restored her son to life, to her great consolation and the further astonishment of all who saw or heard of it.

The news spread like wildfire; the excitement was intense; the popularity of Jesus with the people was at its height.

9 Speaking in Parables

With the Twelve, Jesus travelled through the towns and villages of Galilee preaching everywhere the Kingdom of God. Much of His teaching He gave in the form of parables or stories, in accordance with Jewish ways at the time. And all kinds of subjects were dealt with in this way.

It is not possible to discuss all the parables at any length in this small book, nor to treat of them in the order in which they were given. We can but touch briefly on some of the many aspects of His teaching given at different times by this means, referring readers to the gospels themselves for a more extensive study of them.

In the parable of the “Sower and the Seed” (Mk.4:1–20), He warned His listeners that if His teaching awakened no response within them, the fault would lie in their own evil dispositions.

Of such evil dispositions they should repent, confident that God, on His part, will welcome them with infinite mercy. A “Shepherd seeking a Lost Sheep,” a “Woman seeking a Lost Coin,” a “Father” rejoicing in the return of a “Prodigal Son” (Lk.15:1–32), are but faint images of God’s attitude towards souls repenting of the sins separating them from Him.

Think, He begged them, of what is at stake. It is no less than the “Kingdom of Heaven,” for which no sacrifice is too great; even as a man will sell all to buy a “Field containing buried Treasure.” or a merchant will barter everything to gain a “Pearl of Great Price” (Matt. 13:44–46).

That Kingdom of Heaven is brought within their reach by His Church, small now as a “Mustard Seed,” but to grow into an immense and spreading tree affording shelter for all who seek rest within it (Matt. 13:31–32). Scandals will arise, yes; for the Church will be in a world like to a “Field sown with Good Grain,” but which enemies will oversow with “Cockle or Tares.” It will be like a “Net holding Good and Bad Fish.” (Matt. 13:24–50). Nevertheless, there is nothing wrong with the “Net,” and the Church is indeed the Kingdom of Heaven on Earth.

Sadly, however, Jesus warned the Jews that their official leaders and their nation as a whole would reject the grace being offered to them, as the “Invited Guests” made all kinds of excuses for refusing to attend the “Great Supper” (Lk. 14:17–24). They would even eventually put Him to death, as the “Wicked Husbandmen” in the vineyard planned to murder the very son of the proprietor (Mk. 12:1–12).

Of those who do come to the Kingdom, despite this national rejection of it, much will be expected.

They must be the enemies of sin, making sure that they are clothed in the “Wedding Garment” of divine grace (Matt. 22:11–14). As “Leaven” transforms bread, that grace will transform their souls (Lk. 13:21).

But they must co-operate generously with this grace, making good use of whatever “Talents” God has given them (Matt. 25:14–30).

Above all, charity will be required of them; forgiving others, instead of behaving like the “Unmerciful Servant” (Matt. 18:23–35); relieving the needs of the poor, not imitating the attitude of the selfish “Rich Man” towards “Lazarus the Beggar” (Lk. 16:19–31); being a “Good Samaritan” to all in distress, of whatever kind it might be (Lk. 10:25–37).

Nor must any quarter be given to the pride of the “Pharisee” who thought himself such a paragon of virtue in comparison with the “Publican” (Lk. 18:9–14).

Surely they should be as earnest in preparing for their eternal destiny as was the “Unjust Steward” in looking to his merely temporal future (Lk. 18:1–8), and in taking every care to avoid the fate that overtook the “Rich Fool” (Lk. 12:13–21).

Always to be kept in mind is the fact that there will most certainly be a Last Judgment, when the good and the wicked will be divided as the “Sheep and the Goats” (Matt. 25:31–46); and that it is essential not to be found then as the “Foolish Virgins” who were taken by surprise only to find no oil in their lamps (Matt. 25:1–13).

10 Increasing Popularity

For almost a year Jesus had been teaching, mighty in word and work, throughout Galilee, His popularity increasing daily. More and more widespread became the conviction that He was indeed a great prophet, and even perhaps the Messiah. But the people were soon to learn that He was definitely not the kind of Messiah they were expecting.

How hard He was working at this time can be gathered from the following typical incidents.

One day, near Capharnaum, He had been explaining His doctrine and persuading the people almost from daylight till dark; and, as evening fell, seeing how great the constantly increasing crowd

To the disciples, however, the lesson was one of great significance. Acting as only God could do, He wrought miracles such as had not been heard of “from the beginning of the world,” proving His dominion over the whole of creation, not only over inanimate things, not only over the vegetative and animal worlds, but over those evil spirits also from whose power He had come to deliver mankind.

Making their way back to the boat, they set out across the Lake once more. It was broad daylight, and as the people of Capharnaum could easily see them coming, a great crowd gathered to welcome them.

Among those anxiously waiting to see Jesus and talk to Him was an official of the synagogue named Jairus. As soon as Jesus landed, therefore, he begged Him to come and heal his dying daughter. Jesus set out with him for the house, the people thronging around them.

A woman in the crowd, suffering from a twelve-years’ old disease, edged her way towards Him, touched the hem of His garment, and was instantly cured. Divinely aware of this, Jesus proclaimed for the benefit of all present both the fact of her cure and that it was her great spirit of faith which had won for her so wonderful a favour. It was a faith He was asking of them all.

There had been some delay, and before they arrived at the house of Jairus a servant came to say that his daughter had died and that it was now useless for Jesus to come any farther. But Jesus consoled the poor father, told him to believe firmly still, and that all would be well.

At the house, He allowed only Peter, James and John, together with the father and the mother, to enter the dead girl’s room with Him. In their presence, He merely took her hand and said: “Talitha Cumi.” (“Little girl, get up.”) Then He bade the parents to see that she had something to eat, adding that they were not to broadcast the news of what He had done.

The excitement of the enthusiastic crowd outside could easily give rise to charges against Him of causing a tumult. Such charges would come soon enough!

So Jesus gave Himself to all who needed Him, and not only preached the gospel of His new spiritual Kingdom, confirming His mission by signs and miracles in village after village throughout the country, but gave authority and power to His Apostles also, sending them out in twos to do the same.

11 Death of John the Baptist

During the absence of the Apostles on their mission, as He Himself continued His labours, news came to Him which was a kind of portent of what was to be His own fate.

John the Baptist had been put to death by Herod Antipas who, in a drunken moment during a scandalous banquet, had yielded to the demand of the woman with whom he was living in incest and adultery for “the head of John the Baptist in a dish.”

John was the last of the prophets of the Old Testament and the first of the New. He stands like the dividing-line between the two great Covenants.

What Jesus thought of him we know: “A prophet?” He had said of him. “Truly, I tell you, more than a prophet. This is he of whom it is written: Behold I send my angel before thy face, who shall prepare thy way before thee. For I say to you: Amongst those born of woman, there is not a greater prophet than John the Baptist.”

To the astonishment of His listeners, He then took occasion to add that the least of those actually received into the Church He Himself was establishing and who enjoyed the full blessing of His Kingdom, would be greater than John the Baptist!

12 Miracle of the Loaves

Shortly after John’s death the twelve Apostles returned to Jesus from a month’s hard work, excited, hut very tired; and Jesus said to them: “Come apart with Me and rest awhile.” So they took a boat and went some distance along the shore of the Lake to find a quiet place away from the crowds.

The people, however, were not so easily shaken off. Seeing the direction in which the boat was going, they hurried round by land, and when Jesus got to the place He had in mind He found an immense throng already there.

Taking pity on these “sheep without a shepherd,” He spent the rest of the day instructing them. They had brought no food with them, but they were so entranced by all He had to say to them that they did not dream of leaving so long as He continued speaking.

At last it began to grow dark and the Apostles suggested to Him that they should be told to go to nearby villages and buy food for themselves. Jesus replied: “There’s no need for them to go. You give them food.” Philip said to Him: “We’d have to get several pounds’ worth of provisions, to give them a. mere pittance each!”

There were over five thousand people present, Capharnaum being full of visitors at the time from all parts of the country, who were making their way to Jerusalem for the rapidly approaching Feast of the Passover.

Andrew, the brother of Peter, interjected, saying: “There’s a boy here, with five barley loaves and two fishes; but what are these among so many?”

Jesus was in no way perturbed. “Tell the people,” He said, “to sit down.” The people sat down on the grass, in rows of hundred-and-fifties.

He then took the loaves, raised His eyes to heaven, offered a prayer, broke the bread, gave some to each of the Apostles, and told them to distribute it among their guests. As they did so, they must have felt like men in a dream, for the supply in their hands kept increasing. The same thing happened also with the fish; and after all had had enough, there were twelve baskets of fragments remaining.

The meal finished, Jesus told the Apostles to set out for home by boat, leaving Him to dismiss the people.

The people, however, were reluctant to go, and in their enthusiasm decided to proclaim Him as their King there and then. But Jesus wanted something better than a faith bound up with miraculous temporal benefits and the triumphant nationalism they had in mind. So He refused their offer and escaped from them into the neighbouring hills, to their great displeasure-a displeasure which, with many, was to turn to open hostility within twenty-four hours!

13 The Bread of Life

For next day, in the synagogue at Capharnaum, having returned to the town during the night, Jesus told the people that the bread with which He had miraculously fed them the day before was not worth having compared with that which He intended to give them later on.

This other bread would be Himself, and in receiving it they would be eating His very flesh and drinking His very blood. Moreover, this food would give eternal life and not merely keep them alive for a little longer in this world, which is all that ordinary food can do.

Most of those present were horrified by these words. Talking among themselves, they said that He was going altogether too far, making it impossible for them to accept His teaching. And many, who had been His disciples till then, abandoned Him altogether.

Needless to say, the Scribes and Pharisees were delighted at the turn things were taking, and worked among the discontented people to make them active enemies of Jesus with themselves.

This marked a critical change in the life of Jesus in this world. Between the approaching Passover and that of next year, which was to be His last, He never again met with enthusiasm from vast crowds as He had up till then, except on one isolated occasion. Henceforth, thrown back more and more upon the twelve Apostles, He concentrated on training them for their future work.

One stormy encounter with Scribes and Pharisees who had come from Jerusalem marked the closing of His ministry in Galilee. They attacked Him for violating their traditions, whereupon He denounced their hypocrisy and their man-made traditions, declaring them to be “blind leaders of the blind.”

Then, taking the twelve, He shook the dust of Galilee off His feet and went elsewhere.

14 Peter the Rock

Jesus and the Apostles, having left the territory of Herod Antipas, spent some time travelling through Phoenicia and Decapolis, eventually coming to Caesarea Philippi, at one of the sources of the Jordan, beyond the northern boundaries of Galilee. There an event of the utmost importance for His Church took place.

The very names “Caesarea” and “Philippi” bespoke the dominance of Rome and Greece. They were symbols excluding all dreams of a Jewish national kingdom. And there, in that depressing place as regards Jewish hopes of political supremacy, Jesus put a direct question to the twelve about Himself. “What,” He asked them, “do people think of Me?”

They all began to speak at once. “Some say You are John the Baptist, come back to life again; others say no, but that You are Elias, or Jeremias.”

“And you yourselves, what do you think?”

Peter spoke up instantly: “You are the Christ, the Messiah, the Son of the Living God.”

It was a clear declaration of His Divinity, among all the shifting sands of vague opinions.

“If you know that,” Jesus said to him, “it is not because you have thought of ‘it for yourself, but because My Father in heaven has revealed it to you. And now, in turn, I say to you: You are Peter, the rock, as I called you when I changed your name from that of Simon; and upon this rock I will build My Church. The forces of evil will never prevail against it. And I will give to you the keys of the Kingdom of Heaven.”

It was not enough, however, that the twelve should know the fact that He was the Messiah. They had still much to learn about the nature of His mission. So Jesus went on to explain to them that He must go up to Jerusalem, to be there rejected, tortured, and put to death by His own people; that only thus could He redeem them; but that on the third day He would rise again.

The shock of this declaration was so great that the last words were completely overlooked; and Peter, unable to reconcile himself to such treatment of his adored Master, exclaimed impulsively: “God forbid. Nothing like that must happen to You.”

But Jesus told him that to try and prevent it would be to play the part of Satan. “You would have Me,” He said, “turn aside from the very thing I came into this world to do! You are thinking as men think, and not seeing things as God sees them. Not self-interest, but self-sacrifice is demanded of Me. And if any man will come after Me, he too must deny himself, take up his cross and follow Me.”

15 Training of the Twelve

Again and again, from then on, Jesus tried to impress upon the minds of the Twelve that He had to endure an ignominious passion of suffering and death.

But He did not neglect measures to confirm them in their faith, and to reassure them of His ultimate triumph.

Only six days after Peter’s profession of faith He took Peter and James and John with Him up to a high mountain-top, and was there transfigured before them, His face shining radiantly, His clothes glorious with an unearthly whiteness. Two men were conversing with Him, whom the Apostles recognised as Moses and Elias, representatives of the Old Testament Law and the Prophets. They were talking about the very thing Jesus had been stressing all the week, the necessity of His passion and death. And in the midst of it all a voice came from Heaven: “This is. My Beloved Son in whom I am well pleased. Hear ye’ Him.”

The whole experience raised the thoughts of the Apostles to the divine level; but it was for themselves alone. “Tell the vision to no man,” Jesus said to them afterwards, “till the Son of Man be risen from the dead.”

From now on, concentrating more intensely still on the formation of the Twelve, He gave them many lessons bearing upon their own spiritual lives, above all on the necessity of prayer, of humility, and of the forgiving of injuries.

One day, setting a little child in the midst of them, He said: “Whosoever shall humble himself as this little child, he is the greater in the Kingdom of Heaven.”

Then, thinking of the welfare of little children themselves, He added severely that it would be better to have a millstone tied round one’s neck and to be thrown into the sea, than to teach evil to any one of them.

“Despise not one of these little ones,” He said, “for I tell you, their angels in Heaven always see the face of My Father who is in Heaven.” He knew what the angels do in Heaven, for He was, as He had described Himself: “The Son of Man, descended front Heaven, but who yet is in Heaven.”

As to the forgiveness of injuries, to Peter, who thought it generous that pardon should be granted seven times, Jesus replied: “Not seven times, but seventy-times seven times,” or indefinitely.

16 Visit to Jerusalem

So the instructions continued, in between the various duties of the ministry, until in the October of that year the Feast of Tabernacles, a kind of Harvest Festival, was at hand. Many were accustomed to going up to Jerusalem for the festivities, and Jesus decided to go also. Afterwards He intended to work in Judea rather than in Galilee.

After His journeying through Phoenicia and Decapolis, He had returned for a brief stay at Capharnaum. Setting out from there along the road towards Nazareth, He came to the heights above Magdala and paused at that vantage point to have a last look back at the Sea of Galilee and the towns along its Northern shores.

Sad at heart, He reproached the cities for their resistance to divine grace, saying: “Woe to you, Corozain; woe to you, Bethsaida; woe to you, Capharnaum. If the miracles done in you had been done in Tyre and Sidon, they would have repented. If they had been done even in Sodom, that place would have been spared. In the day of judgment it will go easier with those wicked cities than with yourselves.” Then He turned, and set His face resolutely towards Jerusalem.

His journey took Him through Samaria, and at one village, to which James and John had gone ahead to prepare accommodation, they were refused hospitality on the ground that the party was travelling to the Jerusalem so hated by the Samaritans. The two Apostles returned to Jesus full of indignation and wanted to call down fire upon the town as Elias had done upon the insolent villagers.

But Jesus quietly reproved them, telling them that they certainly had not the right spirit yet. It was one thing for Himself to declare what would be the just judgment of God on the Galilean cities which had refused divine grace; but it was not for them to invoke disasters upon villagers who had merely refused hospitality to strangers. Patiently, therefore, He went on with them to another village.

Arrived within the vicinity of Jerusalem, Jesus stayed in the little town of Bethany, only about two miles from the Holy City. St. John says simply, in his gospel: “Jesus loved Martha, and her sister Mary, and Lazarus.” These were friends in whose house He was always welcome; and that home He often visited during His ministry in Judea.

17 Clash with the Pharisees

During these days of the Feast of Tabernacles, He Himself was the main topic of conversation. Many Galileans were already there before He arrived, and people were asking whether He, too, was coming. Opinions about Him were very divided. Some said that He was a good man; others that He was a fraud and a deceiver.

Suddenly, one day, He appeared in the Temple court, and there began to teach the people openly. He spoke about Himself more clearly than ever before and the people were amazed at His utterances as He answered all that was being said against Him by His enemies.

No. He had not studied in the Rabbinical schools in Jerusalem. But then, His doctrine was not of men; it was directly from God. Yes. He had healed the sick on the Sabbath day. But circumcision was performed on the Sabbath day, and far from breaking the Law of Moses, was performed precisely to keep that Law; and He certainly was not breaking the Law by giving the blessing of health. They knew His family and could point to his relatives, maybe; but they had not made allowance for His heavenly mission of which His miracles were the guarantee.

The Scribes and Pharisees present, unable to bear this, discussed the possibility of arresting Him, but scarcely knew how to go about it. Too many of the people were sympathetically disposed towards Him. The Sanhedrin sent some officers to try, but the officers returned empty-handed, excusing themselves by saying: “Never did man speak like this man.”

Evidently the thing to do was to undermine His standing with the people. Next day, therefore, when He was again speaking in the Temple courtyard, the Scribes and Pharisees thought to force the issue by bringing to Him a woman taken in adultery.

Moses, they said, commanded such a one to be stoned to death. What did He say? They thought, diabolically, that if He agreed to her death He would forfeit the sympathy of the people; if He released her, they themselves could challenge Him with having publicly flouted the Law of Moses.

But all His divine wisdom was at the disposal of His mercy. Without denying the Law of Moses, He said, with words full of meaning and authority: “Very well. But let him that is without sin among you cast the first stone.”

Speechless, they edged away, beginning with the eldest. They had the feeling that He was reading them like a book. As for the poor woman, forgiveness did not mean condonation. “Go,” He said, “and now, sin no more.”

Jesus continued His discourses. He declared Himself to be the “Light of the World.” Whilst others were but “of earth,” He was “of Heaven.” If people wanted freedom, let them follow Him; for His disciples would know that true freedom which is freedom from sin.

This was too much for the Pharisees, who cried out that they had such freedom and were already acceptable in God’s sight as children of Abraham. But Jesus countered by saying that Abraham himself was overjoyed by the sight of His advent.

“What,” they replied, “you are not yet fifty years old, and you have seen Abraham?”

“I can assure you,” He answered, “before Abraham so much as existed, I am.” This was a claim to share in the very name by which God had described Himself to Moses, and they took up stones from the Temple courtyard to stone Him to death for the blasphemy. But Jesus evaded them, and mingling with the crowd, went away.

Outside the Temple precincts, He came upon a man blind from birth whom He healed. The news of such a miracle in crowded Jerusalem rapidly spread, filling the people with astonishment and admiration. The Pharisees, however, were filled with consternation. They sent for the man, and unable to shake his testimony, abused him. The man sought out Jesus to tell Him of this, and Jesus said to him, in the presence of some Pharisees: “I am come into this world, that they who see not, may see; and they who see, may become blind.”

The Pharisees who heard Him asked: “Are we blind?” Jesus declared that they were deliberately so, and therefore guilty in the sight of God.

18 Judean Ministry

Leaving Jerusalem, He went home to His friends at Bethany. During a brief stay there, He preached to the country people round about, and such visitors from Jerusalem as happened to be present.

He told the people that He was the door to the-true sheepfold. Only through Him could they enter upon the way that led to salvation. Yet more. He was the Good Shepherd who was prepared to give His life for His sheep. In fact, He would do so, and voluntarily; although afterwards He would rise front the dead.

His words were carried back to Jerusalem, where they caused much discussion; and opinions concerning Him were more divided than ever.

He now went farther afield, and during the next two months taught in various country villages throughout Judea and Perea. He also chose and sent seventy-two disciples to help in the work.

The doctrines taught were concerning the Kingdom of God in general, but more specifically the fatherhood of God, the necessity of prayer, the generous fulfilment of duties, the obligation of fraternal charity, and the final judgment in which the reward of eternal happiness or the punishment of eternal misery will be the lot of each man according to his deserts.

When the disciples came back to Him full of enthusiasm and with reports of the great success-which had attended their labours, He said: “Blessed are the eyes which see the things you see, and the ears which hear the things you have heard.”

To this period belongs the expression of His own great love for men, when He spoke those memorable words: “Come to Me, all you that labour and are burdened, and I will refresh you. Take up My yoke upon you, and learn of Me, for I am meek and humble of heart; and you shall find rest for your souls. For My yoke is sweet, and My burden light.”

All through, too, He manifested His constant spirit of communion with the heavenly Father He so loved, giving Himself to such prolonged and fervent prayer that His Apostles, observing Him, felt that they had never known what it really is to pray. So they asked Him to teach them also to pray.

It was in response to this request that He taught them the prayer, as sublime as it is simple: “Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be Thy name, Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread; and forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive them who trespass against us. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.”

19 The Supreme Declaration

In the following December Jesus went back to Jerusalem for the Feast of the Dedication, which commemorated the deliverance of the Temple in 165 B.C. from the desecration to which it had been subjected by Antiochus Epiphanes some five years earlier. Antiochus was a tyrant who had tried to stamp out Judaism and impose upon the people his own Greek paganism.

Arriving shortly before the Feast, Jesus stayed once more with His friends Lazarus, Martha and Mary, at Bethany, two miles outside the city. Then, on the festival day itself, He went to pay His visit to the Temple.

As soon as he appeared there, the people at once gathered around Him. But the Pharisees were there also; and they were determined to force Him to say openly whether or not He claimed to be the promised Messiah. So they threw the challenge at Him: “How long are you going to keep us in suspense? If you are the Messiah, say so straight out.”

Jesus answered that whatever He might say they would not believe Him, but that the miracles He had wrought in the name of His Father were evidence enough of His divine mission. Then He added the momentous words: “I and the Father are one.”

The implications of this were only too clear, and at once the Pharisees took up stones from the courtyard to stone Him.

But Jesus challenged them in turn, saying that He had done many good works that only God could do. “For which of My good works,” He asked, “do you stone Me?”

“Not for any good works,” they shouted, “but for blasphemy, because, being a man, you make yourself God.”

Dropping the stones, they made a concerted rush towards Him, intent on arresting Him; but once more He escaped them by losing Himself in the surging throng, left the Temple courtyard, and Jerusalem itself, setting out at once, not back to Bethany, but to the far side of the Jordan some twenty miles away, near to the place where John the Baptist had first commenced his mission.

But He went in tears, saying: “Jerusalem, Jerusalem, you kill the prophets, and stone them that are sent to you. How often would I have gathered your children as the hen her chickens under her wing, and you would not!”

20 Raising of Lazarus

The next two months Jesus spent in Perea teaching, doing good always, and making many converts. The Pharisees, however, constantly dogged His footsteps; and one day a group of them told Him to get out of Perea because Herod Antipas, who was Governor of Perea as well as of Galilee, was planning to kill Him.

No thought of His welfare made the Pharisees warn Him. Full of envy and hatred, they thought that the threat might at least put an end to His present work, impelling Him to go elsewhere.

But He merely replied to them: “Go and tell that fox I shall continue My work until it is time for Me to go to Jerusalem. If a prophet is to perish, it can only be in that city.”

At last came a call of charity which He could not refuse. Messengers came from Martha and Mary at Bethany to say that their brother Lazarus was dangerously ill. The message sent by the sisters was merely: “Lord, he whom You love is sick.” They knew that they need not say more.

But Jesus was well aware that whilst the couriers were making their twenty-mile journey Lazarus had died; and He deliberately allowed two further days to elapse before saying to His Apostles: “Let us go into Judea again.” They reminded Him of the plots to kill Him there, but it was in vain, and seeing His determination to go, Thomas said to the others: “Let us also go, and die with Him.”

Lazarus had already been four days in the grave as they approached Bethany, and Martha, hearing of His coming, went to meet Him with the tearful words: “Lord, had You been here, my brother would not have died.” Her sister Mary came also, when told Jesus was asking for her, and said practically the same words. The two sisters had probably said repeatedly to each other that had Jesus been there, He would never had let their brother die.

At His request, they took Him to the cave where Lazarus was entombed, and He told the men present to remove the stone covering the entrance to it. Then, after a prayer to His Father, He commanded Lazarus to return to life and come out from the grave.

Lazarus at once did so, to the immense excitement of all who witnessed it, and the conversion of most of them. Not, however, of all. Some hurried to Jerusalem and informed the Pharisees, who immediately demanded a meeting of the Sanhedrin or Supreme Council of the Jews.

The meeting of the Sanhedrin was held in the house of Caiaphas, the High Priest for that year. All agreed that something had to be done. If Jesus was allowed to continue with such impressive confirmations of His teaching, all would eventually believe in Him. If there were any disturbance, the Romans might even step in and reduce them to absolute slavery, taking away all their present privileges.

The discussion went on until Caiaphas put an end to it by saying: “There is only one thing to do. It is better for Him to die than for the whole nation to perish.”

Jesus was doomed. But they could not lay hands upon Him for the moment. He had left Bethany and gone into the desert country some miles North, near Ephraim. The Sanhedrin could but make their plans for His death, issuing orders that anyone knowing where He was to be found should immediately inform them.

21 Last Missionary Days

Jesus did not stay at Ephraim. He spent some three weeks journeying through Samaria, Galilee and Perea. His movements were reported to the members of the Sanhedrin, in Jerusalem; but He was always moving, and they could bide their time.

Wherever He went, Pharisees were in attendance and He had many skirmishes with them. On one occasion they brought up the important question of marriage and divorce. In response to their declaration that the Law of Moses permitted a man to put away his wife and marry another, He told them uncompromisingly that Moses had never really meant to approve of such laxity, but had merely tolerated the practice because of their lack of good dispositions Such laxity, He said, was quite against God’s original intentions. Nor could it be tolerated henceforth “From now on,” He proclaimed, “if a man puts away his wife and marries another, he commits adultery. And if the woman who is put away marries another, she commits adultery.”

That sounded severe even to the Apostles, but they knew that if He spoke in such a way, it was a sheer matter of principle. They had too many-evidences of His gentleness and mercy to think otherwise.

Thus, about this same time, He healed the ten lepers who cried out to Him so movingly: “Jesus, Master, have pity on us.”

So, too, He blessed the little children some women brought to Him, despite the efforts of the Apostles to prevent them from bothering Him. “Suffer the little children to come unto Me and forbid them not,” He said, “for of such is the Kingdom of God.”

One day, as they were approaching Jericho and getting ever nearer to Jerusalem, He told the Apostles what would happen to Him there. He would be arrested, condemned, mocked, spat upon, and put to death; but on the third day He would rise again. He had warned them so often of these things, but still they could make nothing of it all. It seemed so unreal

Two of them, however, felt at least that the climax was approaching and that the Kingdom for which Jesus had been so long preparing them was at hand. So they begged Him to grant them the privilege of sitting, one on His right hand and the other on His left, when the glorious Kingdom would at last be His.

In reply Jesus asked them if they were willing to share in His sufferings, and on receiving their answer in the affirmative said: “That at least I can promise you, but not more. What you have asked rests not with Me but with My Father in Heaven.” Then to all twelve He spoke seriously on the necessity of humility.

When they entered Jericho, He asked the publican Zacchaeus, a local customs officer, for hospitality. Zacchaeus, who was not very tall, had climbed into a tree to get a glimpse of Jesus over the heads of the crowd who had gathered for the occasion; and Jesus singled him out as a sincere and honest man despite the fact that the Pharisees regarded him as a sinner.

Next day, as He was leaving the town, He was accosted by Bartimeus, a blind man. Bartimeus had been told that the noise of the crowd was because Jesus of Nazareth was passing by. Again and again, therefore, the blind man cried out: “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me.” In vain others told him to be quiet. Impressed by the man’s faith and perseverance, Jesus stopped, ordered the man to be brought to Him, asked what he wanted, and bestowed upon him the gift of sight that he so desired.

22 Banquet at Bethany

It was only about twenty miles to Bethany from Jericho, and when Jesus came into the little town on the Friday afternoon, just six days before the Passover, He was welcomed by all. Only a month ago He had raised Lazarus, so wellknown and popular with everybody, from the dead.

A wealthy citizen named Simon even put on a. banquet for Him and for His Apostles, inviting Lazarus, Martha and Mary to be present also.

During the course of the evening, in the presence of the whole company, Mary gave expression to her reverence, love and gratitude by lavishing upon the head and feet of Jesus a most costly and refreshing perfume. This greatly distressed Judas, who protested against such waste, saying that the precious ointment could have been sold for between ten and twenty pounds and the money given to the poor.

But Jesus defended her. “The poor you have always with you,” He said, “but not Myself. She has done well, preparing My body beforehand for burial. And I tell you that wherever the gospel is preached in the world, what she has done will be recalled in memory of her.”

Judas, however, was anything but appeased. He had been repelled by what he had seen. The loss of the money rankled. Thoughts of selling the precious ointment began to yield place in his mind to thoughts of selling something infinitely more precious, Jesus Himself.

During these days Jerusalem was seething with excitement. Caravans of pilgrims were pouring in every day from everywhere for the Passover. On the hillsides round about tents were pitched, and daily the crowds from them went into the Holy City. Many Galileans were amongst them.

All the talk was of Jesus, and above all of the miracle He had wrought a month ago, the raising of Lazarus from the dead. People, coming and going, thronged the two miles of road between Jerusalem and Bethany. So many of them wanted to see Lazarus with their own eyes.

23 Palm Sunday

It was into the midst of all this excitement that Jesus had come on the Friday of His arrival at Bethany, and He determined to go on to Jerusalem after the Sabbath, on the first day of the week. But, unlike previous visits, this one was to take the form of a public entry into the City. He therefore sent two of His disciples to a nearby village to bring back a donkey’s foal which He said they would find tethered there, and which the owner would gladly let them have.

The news that He was coming in such a way quickly spread, even to Jerusalem itself; and as He rode up the hillside towards the city, the people came to meet the miracle worker from Nazareth, waving palms and crying out: “Welcome. Hosanna to the Son of David. Blessed is He that cometh in the name of the Lord. Hosanna in the Highest!”

It was in vain that angry priests and Pharisees bade the people stop, asking what they meant by it. “This is Jesus the Prophet, from Nazareth in Galilee,” they said, and went on with their demonstrations of joy. The Pharisees then turned to Jesus. “It is for you to stop all this,” they said. “Bid them cease.” “If I did,” He replied, “the very stones would cry out.”

As a sudden turn in the road brought the city into sight Jesus was moved to tears. Here He was, publicly accepting the role of the Messiah, yet knowing that within a few days He would be as emphatically rejected. “If you but knew,” He said, half-aloud, “the things that are to your peace. But now they are hidden from you. There will not be left in you a stone, upon a stone, because you have not known the time of your visitation.”

Entering into the teeming city, He visited the Temple to give Himself to prayer. But the priests and Pharisees said to one another angrily: “We have accomplished nothing. The whole world seems to have gone after Him.” They therefore held another meeting to consider what next move they should make.

No further developments took place that day in Jerusalem; and, having looked round on what He saw there, Jesus returned in the evening to Bethany. It was little more than half-an-hour’s walk.

24 Second Cleansing of the Temple

Next day, Monday, He went back to the city with the twelve. On the way, coming upon a fig tree in full leaf, but bearing no fruit, He wrought His only-miracle of judgment, condemning it to death. On the following day, to their astonishment, the Apostles noticed that it had completely withered away. The incident was a kind of acted parable, a “visual-aid” in the religious education of the Apostles, teaching them the fate that awaited Jerusalem itself, so splendid in promise yet so disappointing in results.

In the city He found the Temple precincts once more turned into a market-place, with beasts and birds for sale and booths set up for changing the various moneys of pilgrims from different localities. Again, therefore, He drove them all out, declaring the Temple to be a House of Worship, not to be desecrated by such trafficking. Had the offenders refused to go, Jesus and His handful of disciples could not have expelled them by physical force, short of a miracle.

But the moral authority and blazing indignation of Jesus were more than they could resist. Naturally, the Chief Priests were furious; but Jesus had received such a wonderful welcome from the people the day before that they could not arrest Him publicly.

He spent the rest of the day teaching in the Temple without interruption, save for one incident only.

Some small children came in whilst He was speaking, and recognising Him as the central figure of the procession of the day before, began to chant the words they had then heard: “Hosanna to the Son of David!” The Temple authorities, unable to bear it, said to Him: “Don’t you hear what they are singing?” “Yes,” He replied. “But have you never read that God has inspired the perfection of praise from the lips of babes and sucklings?”

That night He again spent at Bethany, returning to the city on Tuesday morning.

25 Day of Questions

The Chief Priests and others had had time to think things over, and when He began teaching again in the Temple they interrupted Him, demanding to know by what authority He took such duties upon Himself.

He retorted with another question. “From whom did John the Baptist receive his authority?” They were reduced to silence. For if they said that John the Baptist had no authority, they would have angered the people, who regarded him as a prophet of God. If, on the other hand, they said from God, the reply would have been: “Then why did you not obey him?”

Taking advantage of their discomfiture, Jesus then preached the parables of the “Two Sons” (Matt. 21:38–32) of the “Wicked Husbandmen” (Lk 20:9–18); and of the “Wedding Feast” (Matt. 22:1–14). All three parables predicted God’s rejection of the Jews as His chosen people, and the bestowal of their inheritance upon the Gentiles.

Enraged by these, the Pharisees sought to get Him into trouble with the Roman authorities by asking whether or not it was lawful to pay tribute to Caesar? They gained nothing by that, for He replied simply: “Render to Caesar the things that are-Caesar’s, and to God the things that are God’s.”

The Sadducees then put a captious question about marriage in Heaven which Jesus summarily dismissed by saying that in Heaven there is neither marrying nor giving in marriage, conditions there being quite different from those on earth.

The Pharisees then tried again by asking which is the greatest commandment? Jesus replied that the first is to love God, and that the second is to love one’s neighbour-a love they certainly were not then manifesting!

After that there were no more questions, but Jesus went on to warn the people against the hypocrisy of the Scribes and Pharisees. These took His words as a declaration of open war; and Jesus knew that He had virtually pronounced His own death-sentence.

As He was leaving the Temple, never to enter it again, He saw a poor widow put two mites into a collection-box for the upkeep of the Temple. How small an offering that was can be realised from the fact that sixteen mites would be equal to an English penny! Yet Jesus praised her sacrificial giving, saying that she merited more than all the others because she had given all she had.

A little later, however, He predicted to His Apostles the total ruin of the Temple despite its vast stones and solid structure.

Going home to Bethany, He broke the journey by going to Mt. Olivet, taking apart with Him His Apostles Peter, James and John, to whom He spoke at great length about the Last Judgment.

26 Judas the Betrayer

Next day, Wednesday, Jesus spent in retirement with His Apostles, possibly in Bethany, probably out in the nearby hills. These were the last hours of spiritual preparation, and during them He told them clearly once more: “It is but two days to the Passover. Then I shall be given up to be crucified.”

One Apostle, however, was missing for some hours on that day. He had gone alone to Jerusalem, where the Sanhedrin was holding a meeting in the morning, trying to decide what to do about Jesus. The members were worried by the number of His friends who had come in from the country areas. But, to their delight, Judas came to them, asking what they would give him if he would inform them where they could find Jesus away from the usual crowds.

They agreed to give him thirty pieces of silver, possibly equal to four or five pounds in English money. It must have seemed a rather poor bargain, but still Judas accepted it. He had been disgusted by the way in which Jesus had failed again and again to assert Himself as the Messiah-King of Jewish nationalist aspirations when opportunities had presented themselves.

27 The Last Supper

On Thursday, Jesus sent Peter and John into the city to arrange for the use of an upper room in the house of a friend where He could celebrate the Passover meal with His Apostles that evening; and in due time all came to the house, including Judas.

Before the meal began, having in mind the many times the Apostles had disputed about “who would be the greater,” He gave them a supreme lesson in humility by girding Himself with a towel and then, taking a bowl of water, kneeling like a household slave to wash their feet.

After that, He proceeded with the supper, during which He warned them that one of them was about to betray Him. Judas went away, to tell the Temple guards to be ready for the moment when he would notify them. It would be soon. Jesus was at supper with His Apostles in the house of a friend, he told them. They would be able to arrest Him without any public disturbance after He had left the premises.

When Judas had gone-as seems more probably the case-Jesus proceeded to fulfill the promise He had made a year earlier of giving His flesh to eat and His blood to drink. Taking bread, He said: “Take and eat. This is My body which is given for you. Do this in commemoration of Me.” Then, taking wine: “This is My blood of the New Covenant, which shall be shed for many unto the remission of sins.”

Thus He gave the sign of His own Priesthood according to the order of Melchisedech, who had offered sacrifice in bread and wine; and also made the Apostles priests according to that same order. So, too, He left to His Church the Sacrifice of the Mass, of which St. Paul was later to write: “As often as you shall eat this bread and drink the chalice, you shall show the death of the Lord until He come.” I Cor., 11:26.

After this, Jesus spoke for some hours to His Apostles, until towards midnight, comforting them, promising them the Holy Spirit for their future work, telling them that they would be united with Him as living branches are united with a vine, and concluding with a priestly prayer for the unity of His Church, impressing on them the wonderful relationships of Himself with His Father, and of themselves with Him.

A hymn of thanksgiving followed, then He left the house with His Apostles, and set out with them from Jerusalem along the Bethany road to His favourite Mt. Olivet. There He went into a garden called Gethsemane, where He went apart from the Apostles with the exception of Peter, James and John whom He took with Him. These three were allowed to witness, as He knelt in prayer, something of the sorrow with which He was afflicted by the weight of the sins of the world, the burden of which forced from Him a very sweat of blood.

28 Arrest and Trial

It was in the garden of Gethsemane that Judas, coming with the Temple guards, found Him.

The Apostles fled.

Jesus, arrested, was taken first to Annas, a former High Priest, who had no authority, but who wanted to examine Him in order to think out the best charge to bring against Him. Annas then sent Him to his son-in-law, Caiaphas, the actually ruling High Priest, who had already decided that it was better that Jesus should die than that the whole nation should perish.

It was now daylight, on Friday morning. The Sanhedrin had gathered quickly. Many professional informers were called to give evidence before the Jewish tribunal, but their accusations were so conflicting and so palpably false that Caiaphas set them all aside, and took things in hand himself.

He put a direct question to Jesus, bidding Him in the name of the Living God to say whether or not He claimed to be the Christ, the Son of God. Jesus replied that He did, and that one day they would see Him coming again in the clouds of heaven.

It was clear that He was declaring Himself to be equal with God, and Caiaphas turned to his fellow-members of the Sanhedrin. “You have all heard that blasphemy,” he said. “There’s no need of other evidence. What do you say?” All agreed that the death-sentence should be pronounced.

During these proceedings two of the Apostles, Peter and John, had plucked up courage enough to come to the courtyard of the High Priest’s house; but there, when recognised, Peter was terrified and three times denied, even with an oath, that he so much as knew Jesus. The crowing of a cock brought home to him the prediction of Jesus that he would do this; and going out he wept bitterly. For the moment he did not remember, although he did so later, that even when predicting his fall, Jesus had also said: “I have prayed for you, Simon, that your faith fall not; and after your conversion, it will be for you to strengthen your brethren.”

The Sanhedrin, forbidden by the Roman authorities to inflict the death-penalty themselves, took Jesus to Pilate, the Governor of Judea, accusing Him of advising people not to pay taxes to Caesar, of proclaiming Himself King, and of inciting the people to rebellion.

Pilate did not believe them; tried to escape condemning Jesus by sending Him to Herod Antipas, Governor of Galilee, who happened then to be in Jerusalem; and, when that expedient failed, together with all persuasive measures to placate the Jews, handed Him over to them to be crucified.

Before doing so, however, he washed his hands in their presence, declaring himself “innocent of the blood of this just man.” In a frenzy of triumph the mob, incited by the Jewish priests, cried out: “His blood be upon us and upon our children.”

Then they made Jesus carry His own cross to Calvary.

29 Death on Calvary

Nailed to the cross, Jesus endured for three hours the ‘ignominious and agonising tortures of crucifixion, with a placard above His head, to the mortification of the Jews but insisted upon by Pilate, proclaiming, Him as “Jesus of Nazareth, the King of the Jews.”

Seven of His utterances from the cross have been preserved for us. He prayed for the forgiveness of His persecutors; promised paradise to the repentant thief who, together with another criminal, was crucified beside Him; entrusted His Mother to the care of St. John; expressed His own mental and. bodily distress in the cry: “My God, My God, why hast Thou forsaken Me,” and in the words: “I thirst;” and then, after declaring that all had been “accomplished,” His final, strong and confident declaration: “Father, into Thy hands I commend My spirit.”

So, at 3 P.M., on that Friday afternoon, Jesus died.

Nature itself paid the tribute His own people had refused. The sun was darkened, whilst the earth quaked, rending the Veil of the Temple and splitting open the tombs. The Jews were terrified and fled, beating their breasts. Even the Roman centurion exclaimed: “Indeed this man was the Son of God.”

The High Priests were not less terrified by these things than the others, but they were obsessed by yet another and greater fear. Jesus had said that He would rise again on the third day. They did not believe it possible; but they were determined to take precautions against any removal of His body by His disciples, with a subsequent claim that the prophecy had been fulfilled.

At sunset the Sabbath would begin. They must get everything done by then. At their request, the Roman soldiers hastened the death of the two thieves by breaking their legs; but when they came to Jesus, they found Him already dead. Still, to make sure, a soldier thrust a spear into His side.

The bodies were taken down, and Pilate granted permission to Joseph of Arimathea to give honourable burial to that of Jesus. One concession he made to the Jewish priests. They could seal the stone at the entrance to the vault, and get Roman guards to remain on watch until after the third day, preventing any interference with it.

30 Risen and Living Still

Any ordinary biography would here come to an end. Impressed by the goodness, magnificent courage and unselfish devotedness of such a life as has been described, people might think the end to have been one of sheer tragedy; yet none the less it would be the end of but one more great man who had played his part on the stage of human history.

In the case of Jesus, however, things are very different.

Shortly before dawn on the third day, Sunday, an earthquake dislodged the stone from the entrance to the tomb in which He had been buried; and the Roman soldiers on guard were terrified not only by that, but by the apparition of an angel, luminously brilliant. They fell to the ground unconscious and when they came round, fled.

The displacing of the stone was not in order to allow Jesus to emerge from the tomb. He had already risen when that happened. But Mary Magdalen and the other women who came just before sunrise were thus enabled to see that the tomb was empty. The angel, still there, invited them to do so. “See the place where the Lord was laid,” he said to them. “He is not here, for He is risen, as He said. Go quickly and tell His disciples.”

It was true. The disciples, however, were slow to believe. But during the next forty days, at various times and in different places, Jesus appeared to them singly and in groups.

He continued instructing them, explaining to two of them, on the road to Emmaus, how all that Moses and the prophets had predicted of the Messiah had been fulfilled in Him.

Appearing in the midst of them, when they were gathered together in Jerusalem, He bestowed upon them the power to forgive sins, breathing upon them and saying: “Receive the Holy Ghost. Whose sins you forgive, are forgiven them.”

On another occasion, in Galilee, He confirmed Peter in his office as supreme head of the Church on earth, after exacting from him a threefold profession of love as reparation for the threefold denial. To him Jesus confided the care of lambs and sheep alike, the whole flock; and promised him the crown of martyrdom in the end.

Fittingly in Galilee also, where He had first called them as Apostles, He gave them His great commission, saying: “All power is given to Me in heaven and on earth. Going, therefore, teach all nations, baptising them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost, teaching them to observe all things whatsoever I have commanded you; and behold, I am with you all days even till the end of the world.”

His last appearance to them came shortly afterwards in Jerusalem. In that final interview, having given them further instructions about His Church as the Kingdom of God in this world, He told them to remain in the city until the Holy Ghost descended upon them as He had promised. After that, they were to begin their apostolate of preaching the gospel throughout the world, even to the uttermost parts of the earth.

Now the time had come for Him to return to the Heaven from which He came. Accompanied by them all, He set out on the road towards Bethany and the Mount of Olives. When they had ascended the mountain, He blessed them, and as He did so began to ascend above and beyond this world. For a few moments only they saw Him going. Then a cloud suddenly formed beneath Him, cutting Him off from their gaze.

As they continued looking upwards, two men in white robes appeared to them and told them that Jesus had finally gone from them, but that He would come again one day even as they had seen Him go. Strangely, they felt no trace of sadness at His departure, but went back to Jerusalem with great joy, there to persevere in prayer and to wait until endued with power from on high.

Nine days later, on Pentecost Sunday, the promised Holy Spirit descended upon them. Peter, chief of the Apostles, preached the first sermon that very day in Jerusalem, and some three thousand souls were received into the Church.

And that Church-the Catholic Church-which has been in the world all days since then, and is still with us, the living witness reaching back through the ages, makes us one with those who heard Jesus speak and who saw the things He did; and no more than they can we doubt the reality of the experiences that were theirs.

To us, as to St. Peter, Jesus is “the Christ, the Son of the Living God.” Of Him with St. John, we have no choice but to say: “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. And the Word was made flesh and dwelt among us; and we saw His glory, the glory as it were of the only-begotten of the Father, full of grace and truth.”

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Life of Saint Clement Mary Hofbauer, C.Ss.R

(JOHN DVORAK)

“THE APOSTLE OF VIENNA,” 1751–1821

INDEX

THE HISTORICAL SETTING

THE years that span the life of St. Clement Hofbauer were troubled years for Europe. They were years of great political crises; of gigantic upheavals in nearly every State of Europe; of wars and revolutions; of fierce social strife and class hatred. Clement Mary Hofbauer was growing up as a boy when the Seven Years’ War was bleeding Austria white. He was in his twenties when the American War of Independence dragged on between the North American States and England. He was in his thirties when the French Revolution broke upon Europe, and the blood of the aristocracy purpled the highroads of France. He was in Poland when that great patriot, Kosciusko, rose and fell. He was in Warsaw when that city was besieged on two occasions. He was working within twenty miles of the field of Austerlitz when Napoleon shattered the forces of Russia and Austria. He was evangelizing those very places over which were marching the French armies in the unending campaigns of the French Emperor. Truly, he lived in an era of great social strife and political disturbance.

And those days in which he lived were dark days for God’s Church. Smitten by the strong arm of the tyrant from without, betrayed by some of her own children from within, the Church was in her agony from the birth of St. Clement almost to his death. Great men sprang forth to do battle against the Church as the thunders of revolution were rolling through Europe. Through the writings of Wittola and Born, supported by the influence of Emperor Joseph II, the Church was crippled in her activities in Austria and Germany; while Voltaire and Rousseau scattered the seeds of infidelity in France and in those countries to which its sway extended. It was in the lifetime of our saint that the Jesuits were suppressed and exiled. It was in his lifetime that Pope Pius VI was dragged a prisoner to France, and died in prison there; and his successor, Pope Pius VII, spent six years, too, as a prisoner under Napoleon. Such were the years in which the lot of our saint was cast, and such were the storms. that swept over Church and State as this champion battled for the cause of Christ. And when, at length, peace settled on Europe, St. Clement Hofbauer’s star had set. His energy was spent; his strength was sapped; his work was done. An old man, rich in merits, he calmly awaited the summons to render account of his stewardship to God.

One must keep this historical background well in mind, if one wishes to grasp the heroic nature of the deeds St. Clement wrought in the service of Christ, or if one wishes to understand how it came to pass that, despite his shining success in winning souls to Christ, he failed during his lifetime to achieve the great purpose of his life-namely, the transplanting of the Congregation of the Redemptorists beyond the Alps-a purpose to which he bent all the energies of his soul and body.

HIS BOYHOOD

Born 26 December 1751 in the village of Tasswitz, in Moravia-a province of Austria-Clement Mary Hofbauer (Dvorak in Moravian) gazed with infant eyes upon woodland scenery of surpassing beauty. Sprung from thoroughly pious, yet humble, parents, Clement drew his first breath in an atmosphere of great faith and piety. He started life with two great assets, destined in after-life to play such an important part in the gigantic task to which he set his soul: the first, the precious gift of a vivid faith so strong, so deep, so abiding, that he was immune from all temptations against it; the second, the blessing of a sound and healthy constitution. Without either of these possessions he could never have accomplished he work that made him immortal.

Clement Hofbauer was the youngest of twelve children, and the early deaths of some of these cast shadows from time to time upon the bright, happy, pious place in which he grew up as a child. But these sorrows paled away before the death of his father, when little Clement was about seven years of age. He carried the memory of that sorrow to his grave. The untold affliction of his mother, widowed by this untimely death, intensified his sorrow. Above his tomb today may be seen a painting portraying an incident at this time-the mother bringing Clement to the crucifix and saying: “My child, behold your Father from this time onwards.” Great traits of character are often chiselled by the sharp instrument of sorrow. An early sorrow often awakens in a young soul a premature sense of responsibility, and sets and shapes its career. Sorrow and sanctity are nearly allied, and often go hand in hand. From the saint’s references in after-life to this early grief there is no doubt that it gave a distinct impetus to his soul in the direction of the saints. We find him at this time tenderly devoted to Our Blessed Lady: saying the Rosary, fasting on Saturday in her honour, making special preparations for her feasts throughout the year.

Clement’s piety grew with the years, till it found definite expression in the longing to become a priest. Becoming a priest, however, meant education, and education meant money, and here the first insuperable difficulty presented itself, as Clement, rich in spiritual treasures; was poor in the goods of this world. This difficulty did not vanish as he grew to manhood’s years, and Clement was forced to earn his bread as an apprentice to a baker. It was pathetic, indeed, to see this young soul, ablaze with the desire of seeking the ministry of The priesthood, yet constrained to pursue his humble calling in a world from which his soul shrank. But this temporary setback to his intentions only served to burn the desire of the priesthood deeper into his soul. And deep it needed to be, for great storms were destined in afteryears to sweep over his life, when he would need great fortitude and zeal to sustain him. What seem accidents to us are often the set design of Almighty God; and in those obstacles to Clement’s desires we see the guiding hand of God, Who, in those weary years of anxious waiting, was gradually setting the current of his being more deeply and more directly to Himself.

THE HERMIT

It was during those years of his apprenticeship that he set out on a pilgrimage to Rome to refresh his piety, as well as to do penance. During this pilgrimage he visited a certain hermitage, in a place called Tivoli, in the Papal States. Situated on a rising eminence, the chapel of the hermitage was dedicated to Our Blessed Lady, possessing, as it did, an ancient Byzantine picture of the Madonna. Six hermits formed the community in the hermitage near by. Beautifully nestling amid olive trees, this home of piety made a cogent appeal to the heart of Clement Hofbauer, so that when he returned to his work and his home his thoughts and dreams often turned to Tivoli. And now that the path to the priesthood seemed definitely closed to him, he thought of passing his life as a hermit.

Soon we find him, at the age of twenty, setting out for the Papal States to become a hermit at Tivoli. He was accompanied by a companion with the same intention. They travelled the whole journey on foot. Up hill and down dale they went; over mountain slope, by riverbed, they journeyed on, their spirits fired by the fervour of their bold resolution. On arriving at their journey’s end they had little difficulty in obtaining the necessary permission to enter the community. It was at this reception into the ranks of the hermits that our saint-whose Christian name was John-received the name of Clement, after the martyred Bishop of Ancyra. Here in this quiet, secluded hermitage a divine peace and happiness settled upon Clement’s soul. Here he drank deeply at God’s fountain. It was a life of work and prayer-for such was the daily rule of the hermits. But, beautiful and holy and happy as it was Clement Hofbauer felt it was not his vocation. The desire to influence other hearts in the cause of religion; the desire to extend his activities far afield, became more and more pronounced as the months went by, till at last, confident that he was doing the Will of God, he severed all connection with the hermits at Tivoli and returned to Austria.

On his return he was able, through the influence of a priest friend, to enter a college of Humanities at a place called Bruck.

In return for board and education he was expected to render certain services to the monks who controlled the school. He was twenty-one when he first took up his Latin grammar. The incongruity of a man of his years studying with juniors was completely forgotten in the all-absorbing consciousness that by persevering he would one day reach the goal of his ambition-the priesthood. After four years’ study unforeseen difficulties presented themselves, and he was forced to relinquish his studies. As time was not in his favour, his vocation now seemed hopeless.

But the God-tending character of his soul reveals itself in a second endeavour to follow the life of a hermit. He made an effort to re-join the hermits at Tivoli, but failed, as accidents prevented his reaching Rome. He succeeded, however, in establishing a hermitage not far from his native place, and here he followed a life of asceticism for nearly two years. It was in this hermitage that Clement fostered within his soul that spirit of mortification and self-discipline which enabled him in after-years totriumph over crushing misfortunes. But the increasing number of pilgrims to Clement’s hermitage robbed him of solitude, and in the end he withdrew from the place altogether. Seeking other and more secluded retreats, Clement met with difficulties from the civil authorities, and-sad reading it surely makes-he returned to the baker’s humble work at the age of twenty-nine years.

It was a lonely heart that throbbed beneath the humble garb of the baker as he began again where he had started ten years before. Tenyears is no small period in one’s life; and for our saint what efforts, what sacrifices, what prayers, what hopes, what bitter disappointments, were concentrated in that decade of his life as he keenly pursued the prize for which his fervent soul thirsted-the priesthood! And never more than now did failure stare him blankly in the face; and never more than now did he see written in large letters across the horizon of his life the inexorable decree that the great desire that blazed within his breast-to be a priest-was never to be realized. Gaze upon him as he treads, unknown, the streets of the beautiful city of Vienna. A great heart beats within that breast, and by God’s grace his day will come. He shall walk those streets again when the years have snowed his hairs and when the storms of life have furrowed his brows-he shall come, the hero of a great cause, and many a head shall bow in reverence before him. The greatest orators and writers shall circle around him, and listen humbly to his saintly words. And when a century of years shall have run their course the name of this unknown baker shall be written in golden letters across the heavens, while an emperor shall bow the knee before the dust of his remains, and a hundred thousand voices shall cry out to the Heaven that harbours him:

“St. Clement, pray for us.”

THE PRIESTHOOD

Soon the shadows were to rise and a bright light shine full on Clement’s life, filling him with high and golden hopes. Small incidents have sometimes far-reaching consequences. A rainy day at Waterloo lost Napoleon an empire and changed the fate of Europe. A rainy day sent Clement on the career and mission of his great life. It happened thus: He used to serve Mass daily at St. Stephen’s Cathedral, Vienna, and one morning after Mass he noticed some ladies waiting at the porch of the church till the rain, which was falling fast, should cease. Clement, in his eagerness to assist others, approached them and offered his services to engage a carriage for them. They accepted his offer; and when the carriage had arrived they invited Clement to accompany them. These good ladies-three sisters, who were people of some means-showed no little interest when they heard Clement’s history. With tears in his eyes he told his story: a tale of high aspirations with no hope of realization; a tale of feverish journeyings to and fro to satisfy the urge within his soul, but all roads leading back to the place whence he started. Touched by what they heard, the ladies promised Clement the necessary financial aid to prosecute his studies for the priesthood, and thus in this simple way was the path to the priesthood opened to him.

Backed by the support of his new patrons, Clement lost no time, and entered the University of Vienna. One can imagine with what enthusiasm Clement addressed himself to his studies. It is recorded of him that he studied late into the night, dispelling sleep by walking to and fro with the book in one hand and a candle in the other. He spent three or four years at the University studying philosophy and theology, and other subjects included in those courses. It was here he first became acquainted with the writings of St. Alphonsus, especially his “Visits to the Blessed Sacrament” and, the “Way of the Cross.” Clement highly relished those beautiful devotions, and blessed the hand that wrote them. At this time he used to spend the whole of Sunday morning in the church, and the sexton in one of the neighbouring churches often spoke in after-years of the fervour of our saint serving Mass. Every year at holiday time he went on a pilgrimage to Rome. He always made the journey on foot. This afforded more scope to practise mortification and prayer, and thereby to reap richer spiritual advantages from the pilgrimages.

A new decree was issued by the Austrian Government, changing the curriculum for students of theology at the University. This decree extended the course to six years, and it forbade Bishops to ordain aspirants who had not completed that course. Clement, who had completed but one year, took alarm at this edict, as it would postpone his ordination for some years; and he formed the resolution of prosecuting his studies at Rome when next he went there on pilgrimage.

Another student, Thaddeus Hubl, in similar difficulties, learned of Clement’s plan s, and went with him to Rome. This was in 1784, when Clement was thirty-three and his companion twenty-three years of age. By mere accident the two pilgrims, on arriving at Rome, settled in the neighbourhood of a small Redemptorist monastery-San Giuliano. Attached to the monastery of San Giuliano was a chapel where the Redemptorists said their prayers. On the morning following the arrival of the pilgrims in this neighbourhood their sleep was broken at an early hour by the tones of the community bell that called the Redemptorists to their morning meditation. Full of fervour, Clement and his companion set out in the direction of San Giuliano, being under the impression that Mass was being celebrated. When they arrived, they found the Fathers silently making their meditation. Clement wasdeeply impressed; and he and Hubl approached the monastery and asked to see the Superior, to enquire about the Redemptorist Rule. Father Landi, the Superior, was soon with them, supplying them with the necessary information. In case they wished to embrace the life and Rule, of the Redemptorists, Father Landi placed before them forms of application for admission to the Congregation. Clement never hesitated. With a firm hand he affixed his signature. Every word of Father Landi sank deep into Clement’s soul. When Clement learned that the Rule made the Redemptorist an apostle outside and a Carthusian at home his soul was enraptured. Here, indeed, would his longing be satisfied. Here was that splendid mixture of the life of the apostle and of the hermit for which his soul yearned.

But different sentiments stirred the soul of his young friend. Hubl hesitated about signing the application form, and preferred to wait. Not possessing a fraction of the experience of Clement, he was doubtful as to what precisely he should do. Clement was not a little troubled at this unforeseen hesitancy. Hubl’s doubts, however, were to live only for a day. As Clement prayed for him that night a great change began to steal over Hubl’s soul, and next day he expressed a desire to enter the Congregation of the Most Holy Redeemer.

On 24 October 1784 the two postulants received the religious habit from Father Landi, who became their NoviceMaster. Clement Hofbauer never saw St. Alphonsus, though at this time the saint was living at Nocera; yet Clement had the good fortune of being trained under one of St. Alphonsus’s companions, Father Landi. Father Landi had a long experience of the life of the Redemptorist, having spent forty years in the Congregation, and was altogether singularly qualified for moulding the minds of Clement and his friend.

The Novitiate, a time of silence and fervour, according to Clement himself, was the happiest period of his life. The usual period spent in the Novitiate—twelve months-was shortened to five months for Clement and his companion; and they were professed together on the Feast of St. Joseph, 19 March 1785. Ten days later they were ordained to the Priesthood.

A divine calm and peace settled on Clement’s soul. The fevered thirst that had burned within his soul was quenched for ever He laid at the altar, on the morning of his ordination, all the hardships and disappointments that attended his efforts to be a priest. A great chapter closed in the life of Clement, never to be reopened.

ACROSS THE ALPS

It was during his Novitiate that the daring idea of transplanting the Congregation beyond the Alps occurred to Father Clement Hofbauer, and shortly after his ordination the matter developed, and was soon under the consideration of the Superior-General. His sanction was obtained, and Father Hofbauer and Father Hubl set out for Vienna in October 1785. St. Alphonsus, who was still alive, predicted their success. It shows what an impression Father Clement had made upon his superiors during the short time be was in the Congregation when he could be entrusted with this bold and responsible project of founding a branch of the Congregation in a country where no Redemptorist ever trod before. The idea of spreading the Congregation was not a new or unwelcome one. Both Father de Paula and St. Alphonsus- owing to the restrictions placed upon their activities by the Neapolitan Government-came to the conclusion that the Congregation could never function normally unless it spread beyond the Alps. Thus the advent of the two Germans-Fathers Hofbauer and Hubl-to the Congregation and their request to found a branch in Germany were regarded in the Congregation as providential.

With the Pope’s blessing and with a letter of recommendation from Cardinal Albani t o the Nuncio in Vienna, Father Hofbauer addressed himself to this new and daring task-namely, establishing a house of the Congregation in Vienna. The two Redemptorists spent a whole year in a fruitless endeavour to obtain the necessary permission of the Government to establish a monastery. Fate seemed to be against them. The Church in Austria had fallen on evil days. The spirit of opposition to Papal authority in ecclesiastical matters by the civil authorities was waxing strong. It was fostered by the support of the Emperor Joseph II, so much so that it was named after him-Josephism. It was not so much a heresy as a spirit of interference by the State in Church matters. But it was a blighting evil that crippled the Church in her activities, and left a legacy of evil in its wake. Great forces were being arrayed against the Church in Austria. Heroes were needed to defend her; and we shall see later that Clement Hofbauer was one. Defeated for the moment in Austria, he transferred the scene of battle to other lands, and, finally, returned to Austria to achieve a far-reaching victory.

WARSAW -ST. BENNO’S

Failing to obtain a foundation in Vienna, Clement resolved on the bold plan of setting out for Russian Poland, where, under the Empress Catherine, Catholic priests exiled from other European countries found some measure of relief. It was there the unfortunate ex-Jesuits found a home when the great storm of persecution broke upon them, practically all over Europe. After a short visit to his home in Tasswitz, Clement and his companion set out for Warsaw in February 1787. On the way they met an old friend ofFather Hofbauer’s-Peter Kunzmann. Peter had joined the Tivoli hermits the same day as Clement, but after some years had left the hermitage, and, at the present moment, was on a pilgrimage. Hearing of the project of the two Fathers, he resolved to join them. He became a lay brother in the community at Warsaw, and remained faithful to his vocation till death.

There was at this time in Warsaw a Catholic society called the Confraternity of St. Benno. Its object was to minister to the sick and to take charge of the poor orphan children. They received possession of a church in Warsaw, with some buildings adjoining it, after the Jesuits, who had been in charge of them, had been suppressed. When Father Hofbauer and his companions arrived in the city, with the approval of King Stanislaus, they were offered these buildings by the Confraternity, on condition that sermons were preached to the German population in the city and that a school be opened for the orphan poor. These terms being accepted by Father Hofbauer, the church and the adjacent buildings were delivered over to his charge. It was understood that this arrangement was only temporary, but, in effect, the foundation was a permanent one.

The pioneer is usually a hero, and so with Clement. It needed courage and fortitude to face the situation that presented itself. The monastery of five rooms was in a dilapidated condition. The sleeping apartments offered a feeble resistance to win4s and rain. Having no beds, the three companions slept on the floor. Surely the prospect was a chilling one! But it could not cool the fervour of St. Clement. What pained him most was the fact that the church was neglected, too, and that dust and dirt tarnished the house of God. The burning zeal of Clement soon showed in the changes that came. The two Fathers set to work immediately in the confessional and the pulpit, while Kunzmann took charge of the kitchen. Although things brightened somewhat as the years went on, still the community suffered continually, more or less, in their material wants. Even four years after their arrival in Warsaw they were short of wine for the church; also of oil and of candles, so that Propaganda came to their aid in 1791. It was on that occasion that the Pope was so pleased with the zeal of Clement and his companions that he said: “It is evident that the spirit of their founder [St. Alphonsus] has been handed on to these men.”

With regard to spiritual labours, the Fathers had an uphill battle. For long they were distrusted by the Poles, who regarded them as Lutherans in disguise, with political aims beneath the cloak of religion. The Poles regarded the school of Clement as an effort to denationalize and to Germanize them. But, as the years rolled on, Clement succeeded in dispelling prejudices and softening hearts.

There was one political event that firmly established Clement in the affections of the people and crowned his labours with astounding success. That event took place in January 1793, when Russia and Prussia agreed to partition Poland. That great hero who finds even to this day a sanctuary in the hearts of the Poles-Kosciusko-made a gallant effort to save his unfortunate country. In the first great battle with the enemy he raised the hopes of his countrymen by winning a notable victory over the Russians at Cracow. But Kosciusko’s victory was as short-lived as it was glorious; and soon the great patriot was vanquished. Warsaw, which went in full sympathy with the revolution, was besieged by the Prussians, who, after three months’ siege, failed to capture the city. Two weeks later, it was stormed by the Russians under that brilliant general, Suworow, and captured. The slaughter was frightful: over fifteen thousand men, women and children were massacred. Warsaw fell under Russian administration for nearly two years, and this was the end of Polish independence.

Now all these events favoured Clement. In the first place, owing to the terrors of war, the people thronged the church and gathered around the confessionals, and forever, as we have said, Clement was established in the hearts of the people. The grip that the Fathers had on the souls of the people never relaxed: it meant success after success in spiritualizing them. Secondly, the Russian Administration proved very friendly to the Fathers. They actually added to the Redemptorist buildings, and St. Benno’s was honoured during this time by a visit from the Russian commander.

By this time the community had received many recruits, mostly Germans. The community was rich, however, in possessing one Polish Father, the young, angelic and vigorous Father Podgorski.

With all these advantages, St. Clement established in St. Benno’s Church what he called “a Perpetual Mission”: that is to say, he followed out every day in St. Benno’s the same spiritual programme followed by the Redemptorist Fathers in their missions in different places. The people responded in a striking manner to the efforts of the Fathers. One may gather some idea of the activity of St. Benno’s when one realizes that five sermons were preached every day-three sermons to the Polish congregations and two to the German congregations. Also, there were thee High Masses celebrated every day. Besides, there were various other exercises in the forenoon and the afternoon, as, for example, Way of the Cross; Visit to the Blessed Sacrament and the Blessed Virgin. St. Benno’s Church seated, at this time, over a thousand people; and on weekdays as well as on Sundays it was overcrowded, according to a report of Clement himself. From morn till night he worked unceasingly, day after day, year after year. God’s hand alone could write the record of the good done for human souls in those years in Warsaw. No sluggard he in the vineyard of the Lord. Every fibre, every muscle was dedicated to the great work for Christ. And Christ did sorely need great champions, because society at that time, in Warsaw, was rotten to the core. Virulent diseases need powerful antidotes; and the “Perpetual Mission” in Warsaw, with all its sermons and ceremonies, was not one whit superfluous. And Clement studied the sources of evil and promptly set himself to destroy them. Thus, he felt a great deal of vice could be attributed to ignorance of Catholic doctrine, and, consequently, the sermons and instructions at St. Benno’s Church covered the range of doctrinal and moral truth. Again, he saw the dangers surrounding the poorer girls, and established an industrial school for them, where they could learn some accomplishment that would raise them above the level of those domestic occupations that spelt danger for them. He gathered together some ladies, who took charge of these girls, and taught them languages and sewing and embroidery work. These ladies formed a kind of community, and Clement gave them the name of Sisters of St. Joseph. One can realize what a wholesome effect this project had upon the whole community.

A school for boys, which he had undertaken the first day he had entered into possession of St. Benno’s, had been a brilliant success from the start. The number of poor boys-many of whom were fed and clothed and housed by St. Clement-was about two hundred. This number increased rapidly as the years went by. Although Clement had the boys under his control from, the beginning, it was only about eight years later that he instituted St. Casimir’s-the girls’ school-which was under the care of the Sisters of St. Joseph. These two schools had an indescribable effect on the whole community of Warsaw. Like running brooks of limpid purity, they flowed forth purifying the cesspools and stagnant waters of the city.

Another society that was a source of untold help in quickening the spiritual life of Warsaw, and reforming its morals, was the Congregation of the Oblates. This Congregation was a lay organisation, composed of men and women of a splendid Catholic type, whose labour it was to spread the good seed of Christianity far and wide. They were not merely to give good example by their own virtues, but were to spread wholesome Catholic literature among the people. The saint actually established a printing plant in the monastery at St. Benno’s. As the members of this Congregation were taken from all sections of society, we can see how St. Clement could say that he owed the greatest measure of success to this Congregation.

Clement had succeeded in his first foundation beyond the Alps, and that in a manner that astonished himself. The great spiritual lamps at St. Benno’s, lighted by himself and fed from the oil of his zeal, grew brighter day by day, and year by year. Such was the reverence for Clement in Warsaw and its surroundings that people were ready-as he himself said-to kiss the hem of his garment. The fame of St. Benno’s extended far beyond the confines of the city of Warsaw; and the name of Clement Hofbauer was sent all over Europe by the enemies of the Church. Clement was destined to realize this later on, when he essayed to establish foundations outside Warsaw. But soon the clouds of disaster shall gather on the horizon. A dark night of trial and sorrow is soon to close in upon him, and it is then that we shall see our saint in all his greatness. We have seen him in the full tide of success, but it is in failure and disaster that we shall see the sublime grandeur of his noble soul. Through the medium of a dark glass we get the measure of the sun; through the dark medium of sorrow and suffering we get the measure of the saint. It is when his hands and his feet are crucified that a saint reveals himself as a hero with heroic, transcendent virtues. The saint never surrenders: he is ever mending his torn nets; he never tires; he never despairs; his soul is ever at peace; exiled from one country, he pitches his tent in another, as though he were there from the beginning; torn from his companions, he fights on alone; the wrath of his enemies breaks on him in vain, for he offers them the hand of friendship. Thus, too, dear reader, shall Clement play the role of the saint in the chapter of sorrow that now opens for him.

WANDERINGS

It was quite clear to St. Clement that if his work was to continue in Warsaw, he would need recruits, and recruits specially trained on religious lines. It was equally clear to him that St. Benno’s was not the place for thus training the young clerics and students, and that for two reasons. First, the hostile Prussian Administration of Warsaw was so powerful that restrictions were placed on the work of the Redemptorists in Warsaw. One such restriction was that they could not receive novices under twenty-four years of age. It is quite evident that the mind of the young man of twenty-four years of age is already set, and not amenable to the severe moulding that the religious life demands; and, again, men of that age have already an occupation in the world, and are not likely to change to the religious life. With this restriction on the reception of novices, Clement saw the failure of the community of St. Benno’s unless he established another foundation in other lands.1 A second reason for seeking another foundation for the training of novices and clerics was the fact that the extraordinary spiritual activity of St. Benno’s made it unsuitable for the training of Redemptorist novices and students, who, according to their Rule, should be far removed from all distraction, even though the distraction is the result of spiritual labour. Prayer and recollection are the spiritual food of the novice or student. St. Benno’s-the centre of so much activity-was, consequently, not an ideal place for their training.

Now began those long and laborious journeys in search of a foundation, which bring vividly to mind the journeying of the Apostle, St. Paul. In the next decade of years Clement travelled from one end of Europe to the other, and this he did two or three times. Friends here and there advised him of different places where he might establish a branch house of the Congregation, but when he arrived there difficulties of one kind or another presented themselves, and one by one his hopes vanished like dreams of the night. It was on one of these journeys that he visited Rome and had an audience with the Pope, who bestowed on him, as a remembrance, a Rosary beads.

These years of travel were lonely, dreary, troubled years. There were none of the comforts and facilities of today. Through many a mountain pass, over many an open plain, he passed. Cold and hunger and weariness pressed heavily upon him. Twice was he laid low with a dangerous illness. Once was he cast into prison at Cracow, where he was interned for three months before he escaped, to make his way back to Warsaw. A good deal of Clement’s failure must be attributed to the awful chaos following upon the constant campaigns of Napoleon; and still more the evil influence of Freemasonry, which got new life at the French Revolution, and which waxed strong and powerful with the victories of the French armies all over Europe. St. Clement referred to it as a vast conspiracy against the Church. It permeated all sections of society, especially the wealthier classes. It was a foul and ungodly evil. Like some monstrous octopus, it flung its tentacles over Europe, holding in its coils all those who held the reins of power. This was the enemy ever in the way of our saint. He wrestled with it in vain. In the end he was overwhelmed completely.

MT. THABOR

At times it looked as though Clement would succeed, as, for instance, when he got a foothold in the diocese of Constance, in a place called Mt. Thabor, on the borders of Switzerland. There had been a convent here already, with a community of Carmelite nuns; and to the convent was attached a church and another building comprising two rooms. This latter place was handed over to Clement, who was also given charge of the church. He began work here by introducing the “Perpetual Mission,” which had had such success in Warsaw. And here, again, Clement met with astonishing success in gathering the crowds to the church, in melting their hearts by his fiery eloquence, and in regenerating their souls in the Sacrament of Penance. Here, too, recruits came to join Clement, so that, in a short time, he was sorely pressed for room in any shape or form. Every corner was occupied. Some were sleeping in the garret of the church; while others were sleeping in a tower that stood apart, without doors or windows, and having no means of approach except a ladder. When we remember that the Redemptorist community had grown so big that it now comprised six Fathers, four Brothers, nine Novices and several Students, we can see, in the first place, how vast the success of Clement’s efforts; and, secondly, to what sore straits he was reduced from want of accommodation. He tried to secure possession of some Government buildings near at hand, but failed. It was at this critical juncture that a new prospect opened up before our saint.

FRIBURG

A delegation of citizens of Friburg, hearing of the wonders of Clement and his apostles at Mt. Thabor, presented themselves and requested the services of the Fathers at the famous Friburg shrine. The shrine was a shrine of Our Blessed Lady. It had been the centre of pilgrimages from France and Germany and Switzerland, but in recent times had lost much of its popularity. To the shrine was attached a large building, capable of accommodating comfortably between thirty and forty persons. This building was at the disposal of those in charge of the shine; and there was, moreover, a sufficiently good income. Situated in mountain fastnesses, and surrounded by woodland, it was an ideal place for the spiritual training of students and novices. Our saint succeeded in getting charge of the shrine, and took possession of the spacious building. Here he settled the students, thereby relieving the strain at Mt. Thabor. Here, again, he preached with all the fire and zeal of his soul; and here, as in Warsaw, the people gathered around him.

But Father Clement’s succ ess excited the fury of his enemies, and they were legion, but as he had possession only for six months, they concentrated all their strength in an effort to dislodge him when the six months had expired. Again his enemies won. Indeed, all ministration on the part of the Fathers ceased compulsorily after five months. Although the students and one Father remained on for a year and a half, the foundation was a failure, and with the downfall of Friburg came the collapse also of Mt. Thabor.

BABENHAUSEN

Clement made yet another effort, and succeeded in obtaining a foundation in Swabia. Here in a place not far from Babenhausen-for he was not allowed to preach there-in the parish of Weinreid, Clement was invited to use the pulpit and the confessional. Here again the same magical transformation among the people was effected. The people he met here were the most plastic and good natured Father Clement had ever encountered. Although he ministered to them for only eight months or so, yet his name still falls from the lips of Catholics in that region. The prince of the little principality to which Babenhausen belonged was very friendly to the Fathers, and on one occasion invited them to preach there. As the Feast of the Most Holy Redeemer was approaching, Clement preached an Octave. So great was the spiritual stir in the place that the prince was forced to ask him to desist from preaching or ministering. A few months later Babenhausen fell under the administration of the Bavarian Government, which forthwith expelled the whole community from the country.

DERELICT

After this crushing calamity, that destroyed the hopes of twelve long years, many a brave priest would have faltered, but not so Clement Hofbauer. If Europe denies him his desire, he will pass beyond its boundaries, even though those boundaries be the great rolling Atlantic. He calmly opens his map and studies it; his eye passes over the mapped ocean and rests on North America. He determines at once to sail for Canada and work among the Indians. Writing to his companions in Warsaw, he says: “If you could see how eagerly we are studying the maps of North America you would think we had taken leave of our senses . . . Our resolution is taken.” What an indomitable spirit animated this great man! What tenacious perseverance! What fortitude! One wonders what prodigies our saint would have achieved had he lived in any other age but that hectic age of the French Revolution and the Napoleonic Wars! As an apostle for Christ he stood peerless and alone in the battle against the enemies of the Church. The Nuncio at Vienna, Monsignor Severoli, writing to another ecclesiastic about our saint, said: “My confidential conversation with him revealed him to me as a man so superior to other men that I should venture to compare him with very few. There shines forth in him an extraordinary zeal for the Catholic religion.”

What was the great secret of Clement’s wonderful calm under crushing misfortunes? Of his stubborn perseverance against overwhelming odds? Of his striking fortitude? It was his wonderful and vivid faith. He knew that failure or success mattered not in the eyes of God. What did matter, and matter much, was whether one was doing one’s best for God’s sake. This wonderful faith and wonderful resignation to God’s Will are the keynote of all his letters in those days of persecution. Writing to St. Benno’s after the last reverse at Babenhausen, he says: “Have courage, God is the Master of the Universe. He directs everything to His own glory and to our welfare; and no one can resist Him. So far as I am myself concerned, in this crisis I have abandoned myself to His Will. In all these conspiracies set on foot to harass and afflict us, I can see God’s guiding Hand leading us there where He wishes us to be.”

SORROW

Darker days have yet to dawn for our saint. Greater trials await him. The first of these great trials, and one which sent a deeper shaft into his soul than any other he had yet experienced was the death of his lifelong friend and companion, the gentle Father Hubl. As we have seen, they had met at the University of Vienna as students; they journeyed to Rome together; they both joined the Redemptorists and together they transplanted, at enormous self-sacrifice, the Congregation beyond the Alps; they had the same spiritual aims; they shared the same sorrows; they worked for the same end. And now this sudden snap in that long chain of the most tender associations! And what lent a darker hue to the death of Father Hubl was the tragedy of which he had been the victim some short time before. He was lured one night from the Monastery at St. Benno’s under the plea of a sick call, a carriage waiting for him at the door. He had not ridden far when he was blindfolded and led before a body of men, who demanded from him a promise that he would cease certain ministrations in the church. And the good Father refusing, the cowardly ruffians fell upon him and beat him nearly to death. He had not fully recovered his health when he went to the hospital to attend those suffering from an epidemic then sweeping over Poland. In his weak state Father Hubl caught the epidemic and died a martyr of charity in the arms of his lifelong friend, St. Clement Hofbauer. He died on 4 July 1807, in his forty-seventh year. That date was written in the soul of Clement in letters of blood. The first surge of emotion within his soul nearly overwhelmed him. The great world would still roll on round the sun, but to Clement Hofbauer that world would never he the same. A great soul had left it for ever. Never did Clement find it so hard to say, “Oh Lord, Thy Will be done!” And yet he said it, and said it times without number. Writing to a friend four months later regarding Father Hubl’s death, Clement said: “I am resigned to do the Will of God. I constantly protest that I desire only what God wills; still, I must admit that since his death I have not had one happy hour.”

CATASTROPHE

But he had little time for sorrow, for catastrophe came upon him-the expulsion of his whole community, of over forty members—half of whom were priests-from Warsaw. The overthrow of the Austrians in 1805 by the Emperor Napoleon and his combined victories over Prussia in 1806 and over Russia in 1807 placed the French Emperor in a position to dictate his will to the European States. Napoleon’s lieutenant, Marshal Davoust, the hero of Auerstaedt, was quartered in Warsaw with one of the French armies. Various evil reports reached him from those German and Swiss States whence Clement had been expelled, to the effect that the Redemptorists were opposed to Napoleon, and were in league with the Bourbons. The French commander reported matters to Napoleon. Things reached a crisis when one night at the devotions some French officers entered the church to scoff at the religious ceremonies. The Catholic congregation resented it, and soon a melee took place in the church, when the French officers were beaten and ejected. Marshal Davoust held an enquiry, but a very one-sided one, in which only the evidence of the officers was taken. The Redemptorists were blamed, and Napoleon, informed on those one-sided lines, ordered the expulsion of the Redemptorists from all the German States; and especially were they to be expelled from Warsaw. On 17 June 1808 the decree of Napoleon was executed. As the Fathers were conducting the morning services in the church before a fairly large congregation, a body of soldiers filed up the street leading to St. Benno’s. The whole monastery and church were soon surrounded, and the Fathers were gathered into their monastery and held prisoners there for three days, in which time they were to pack up their belongings. On 20 June they were taken away in a wagon to the fortress of Kuestrin. After being interned here for four weeks they were ordered to disband and go, each to his own home or place. Clement parted with his community, many of whom he was destined never to see again, and then he set out for Vienna.

It was twenty-three years since Father Clement and Father Hubl had set out from Vienna to found a branch of the Redemptorist Congregation beyond the Alps. Now Clement returns to that city: his friend and companion no longer by his side, and the great structure they both had laboured to erect shattered to the dust. A dark chapter has closed, but every line of it breathes forth the heroic virtues and greatness of Clement Hofbauer. He was tried in the fires of tribulation, and was not found wanting. Listen to those beautiful words of his written in a letter which describes his expulsion: “We resign ourselves to the lot which by the Will of God has befallen us. It is indeed sweet to suffer when, as in our case, one has nothing with which to reproach oneself.”

When the waves of an angry sea crash on the deck of a tossing vessel, threatening to sweep every mortal to destruction, the mariner sometimes lashes himself to the mast with cord and rope and faces the fury of the gale: so with our saint; with the strands of hope he knit his soul to his God in the teeth of the storm, and looked to the dawn of a brighter day.

“THE APOSTLE OF VIENNA”

When Father Clement arrived at Vienna, a friend, Baron Penchler, obtained lodgings for him in a house near the Italian National Church. Here he was appointed assistant priest to the Rector of the Italian Church, who was now a feeble old man. Clement’s activities in the pulpit were much restricted, so that he could not use freely those powers that had reformed Warsaw. In the confessional, however, his zeal] became known, and his little circle of penitents grew, till soon it included some of the greatest figures in Vienna.

Among others may be mentioned Frederick Schlegel, whose name in literature is immortal. Schlegel’s early writings, like his early career, were sadly at variance with Christian principles. In Berlin he first met his wife, Dorothy, the daughter of the famous Mendelssohn, who was herself a lady of talent and culture. They were married at Paris about four years before Clement’s advent to Vienna; and, after a patient search for the truth, they both embraced the Catholic Faith, and were received into the True Fold in Cologne. Some months later they removed to Vienna, at about the time our saint went there. Baron Penchler introduced Frederick Sehlegel and his wife, Dorothy, to Father Clement, and the two placed themselves under his spiritual direction. Frederick Schlegel, on account of his literary fame, exercised a wholesome and far-reaching effect upon Viennese social circles by his frequentation of the Sacraments of Penance and Holy Communion. Dorothy Schlegel was, if anything, more amendable to the spiritual counsels of the saint, and blossomed forth into a beautiful type of Christian womanhood.

The fame of Frederick Sehlegel in the world of letters attracted many great men to his home. But none so welcome as Father Clement Hofbauer. Here, then, at the fireside of his literary friend, Father Clement became acquainted with some of the most famous writers and artists and philosophers in Europe; and here, too, one by one these fell under the spell of the saint. In this humble and unobtrusive way he gained a hold upon the influential circles in Austria; and by degrees he conceived that far-reaching movement of his which resulted in rousing the upper classes from their spiritual torpor.

It was here that the painter, Klinkowstroem -a strict Protestant-yielded to the saintly influence of Father Clement, and not only became a convert to the Catholic Church, but pledged himself to the great spiritual campaign against the scepticism and religious indifference of the age.

ADAM VON MULLER

Here, too, St. Clement made the intimate acquaintance of that man of genius, Adam von Muller, a recent convert to the Church, who was probably the greatest savant in Germany at that time. It was while reading Edmund Burke’s “Reflections on the French Revolution” that Muller’s thoughts first turned to the Catholic Church. Burke had paid a glowing tribute to the spirit of the Middle Ages, and Muller rightly attributed that spirit of chivalry, so characteristic of those times, to the influence of the Catholic Church and her sublime teaching. From the study, then, of the social conditions of the Middle Ages, Muller turned his thoughts to the Catholic Church, which had created them. His conversion took place about three years before Father Clement arrived in Vienna.

A series of lecture delivered in Vienna riveted the attention of the upper classes in Vienna upon Muller, and he was asked soon afterwards by the Archduke Maximilian d’Este to consider founding an institute where the sons of the nobility could obtain an education permeated with Catholic thought and founded on Catholic principles. Many great Catholic professors were invited to co-operate in the work, and the buildings of the Karolye Palace were placed at their disposal. Father Clement was invited by Muller to act as spiritual director to this great institute.

But this grand and far-reaching work was brought to nought by the machinations of the enemies of the Church. Evil influence was brought to bear on the Emperor, who refused his approbation.

Nevertheless, during the short time that it lasted, our saint extended his acquaintance with the intellectual circles, and fortified his hold upon the upper classes.

FREDERICK WERNER

About this time, too, there entered into the life of the saint another whose strange career makes highly interesting reading, Frederick Zachary Werner, a great poet and dramatist. No conversion to the Catholic Church at that time caused such a sensation as that of Werner. At the time that Father Clement and his companions were battling against their enemies in Warsaw, Werner was enjoying a Government position there in the city. So great was Werner’s hostility to the saint at that time that he expressed himself in the following blasphemous manner: “I would give a hundred ducats to obtain possession of the large crucifix at St. Benno’s that I might break it on the shoulders of the religious there.” After some years in Warsaw, Werner travelled about Europe writing dramas that brought him fame, but leading a life of high carnival and dissipation.

In 1809 he went to Rome, where a great change was effected in his soul; and, after great internal struggles, he submitted to the Catholic Church. Werner’s zeal for his new Faith knew no bounds. An apostolic zeal seized his soul, and he thirsted to preach and spread the Gospel. After spending some time in a seminary he was ordained a priest. Werner was then forty-six years of age. His defence of Catholic doctrine was now as ardent as his hostility to it had been vehement before. Soon he was hailed as the greatest pulpit orator of the day. It was shortly after his conversion that Father Werner met our saint. Werner was only too conscious of his own weak and fickle character, and placed himself unreservedly in the strong hands of Clement Hofbauer.”I know,” he said, “but three men of superhuman energy, Napoleon, Goethe, and Clement Hofbauer.” Under Clement’s saintly direction Werner steadily persevered in the grace of God. He himself used to say: “It is to Hofbauer I owe it that I became a thorough Catholic.” If St. Clement’s acquaintance was a priceless asset to Werner, Werner’s acquaintance and friendship were a great boon to our saint, as it cast him into higher relief among the learned ones of his day, thus enabling him to achieve the regeneration of Austria.

JOSEPH VON PILAT

Another great tower of strength to Father Clement at this time was Joseph von Pilat-secretary to the great Austrian statesman of European fame, Metternich. Pilat’s wife, Elizabeth, and Klinkowstroem’s wife, Louise, were sisters-both Protestants of the stricter type. Through the acquaintance and influence of Father Clement these two sisters were converted to the Catholic Faith, and placed themselves under his spiritual guidance. The conversion of his wife prepared the wayfor the conversion of Joseph von Pilat himself. Speaking of his conversion to his wife, Pilat said: “My eventual return to Catholic life is owing entirely to Father Hofbauer’s fatherly care and interest.” Pilat chose our saint as his confessor, and these relations were broken only by the death of St. Clement. As Joseph von Pilat’s home was constantly visited by the higher State officials and members of the aristocracy, and as he was editor of Vienna’s leading paper, he became a pillar of support to the efforts of our saint in his great spiritual campaign.

Thus our saint became the centre of a great religious movement similar to the Oxford Movement in England. In the meantime, his daily life centred round the Convent of St. Ursula’s, to which he was appointed chaplain, April 1813. Before his coming only occasional sermons were preached there, but the saint introduced the regular Sunday sermon. Soon the little church was crowded to overflowing, and penitents increased about the sacristy where he heard confessions. He lived in a house opposite the convent. Herose each morning at four o’clock. Then, after meditation, he said Mass and made his Thanksgiving. He used to spend the rest of the day visiting the sick and the poor. He was often seen at a late hour at night going through the city to visit some dying person, with a lantern in his hand, a big mantle cast over his shoulders, and a cloth cap on his head.

CONGRESS OF VIENNA, 1814

In the year 1814 the historic Congress of Vienna took place. As its object was to restore peace and order to Europe, our saint’s hopes were raised with regard to the advancement of religion and the institution of his Congregation beyond the Alps. Vain hopes! Whatever was expected of the famous Congress, the condition of the Catholic Church in Austria was not improved; and Clement’s hopes for an establishment of his Order were not realized. It seemed as if failure was for ever to cast its shadow on the saint, and proved beyond all doubt the heroic nature of his fortitude. It is noteworthy that at the home of one of our saint’s devoted penitents, the pious Countess Julia Zichy, the monarchs of Russia, Prussia and Austria spent New Year’s night.

Also, Clement had several visits from the Crown Prince Louis of Bavaria, the visit on one occasion lasting from halfpast eight in the evening till half-past two in the morning. All this social influence the good priest exercised for one sole object-the advancement of the cause of God.

Two more famous conversions were effected by Father Hofbauer at this time of the Congress in Vienna -viz., the conversions of Frederick Schlosser and that of his wife, Sophia. Writing fifty years afterwards, Sophia says of our saint:- “It is hardly possible to describe the impression that this saintly man made. The keynote of his whole character was love for God andfor God’s Holy Church, resulting in an unquenchable longing to lead souls to God. Another conversion at this time that consoled the saint was that of Augusta von Mengershausen-a sister to the wife of Pilat-and to the wife of Klinkowstroem. Augusta later became a nun.

Another venture by Clement to found a monastery beyond the Alps -this time in the Balkans-gave little hope of success. Two Fathers and two clerics, as well as one lay brother, were appointed to make the effort. Success came their way for a time as regards evangelizing the people; but the foundation of a monastery was never realized. Better news came from Switzerland, where Father Passerat, one of Clement’s companions, succeeded in wresting from the Government approval of a monastery. Still, even there, the Fathers were much restricted in their activities by the civil authorities.

“THE HOFBAUER CIRCLE”

About the year 1818 a distinct movement towards the Catholic Church, a notable awakening in religious practice, began to manifest itself in the University of Austria. But when two famous professors-Dr. Madlener and Dr. Veith- became converts to the Church, a decided impetus was given to the movement. After their conversion, both the professors made the acquaintance of Father Clement, and remained his steadfast friends ever afterwards.

Then some University students were introduced to him and began to spend some evenings with him discussing religion. The kindly and irresistibly attractive ways of the saint held them fast. Soon those students passed on, the work to other students, and so the circle extended till it reached the number of fifty students. They opened their souls to him in confession, unfolded their difficulties, and recounted their doubts, and drank in his counsel and advice. It was said that Clement inspired in those who first met him the desire to reveal all the secrets of their conscience to him, and, once that was done, that it was impossible to leave him. There is no more homely and beautiful picture of our saint than that in which he is the centre of this circle of students. Evening after evening they repaired to his little home. He received them kindly, set the table, and gave them of his hospitality. Then, after the evening meal, they listened to him as he lectured them on the Church: her difficulties, her success, her ways and her means. And when we remember his own life, and the heroic part he played in the vanguard of the Church’s army, we can understand the surprising interest he awakened in the breasts of these young men. What a life was his who entertained them evening after evening! And how their hearts beat in sympathy as he told, chapter after chapter, the story of his triumphs and his failures.

What spiritual reading did those students need to quicken their fervour other than conversation with this living saint! What golden opportunities they had! When we remember his long, varied experience, his knowledge of human nature, his insight into the human conscience, the rich treasures of grace within his own soul; when we remember what a master he was in spirituality, we can gauge the power for good he possessed over these young men. When he heard them debating points of religion he would warn them that argumentation never effected the conversion of anyone. He would say that the best argument they could use with others was the good example of their own lives: that the lustre of one’s own religion and virtue was its best credential. The students saw in the saint himself the best illustration of his words. It is little wonder, then, that long years after his death they treasured his memory as a precious possession, and recalled his counsels as gems from Heaven.

We have seen already how a Catholic institution, where the upper classes could receive a splendid education on truly Catholic lines, had been attempted by Adam von Muller. And we have seen, too, that the effort was not successful. Now, however Clement returned to the same project. The Archduke Maximilian again supported the attempt, and this time it succeeded. Klinkowstroem took charge; and in the sixteen years of its existence over two hundred pupils passed through it. The success of the Klinkowstroem Institute, as it was called, gave our saint some of the meed of consolation in his advancing years.

As the University of Vienna was the stronghold of the Church’s enemi es, we can see at once the worth and significance of the saint’s apostolate among students. A Catholic force was taking definite shape within the walls of the University, and that force was assuming an uncompromising stand. Professors who allowed their anti-Catholic bias to creep into their lectures were quickly challenged. A healthy warfare was being waged in that erstwhile peaceful home of Rationalism. But while our saint was achieving notable success by the creation of the “Hofbauer Circle,” as it was called, nevertheless he was playing a dangerous role, as he was concentrating all the wrath of the enemies of the Church on himself. A determined effort was finally made to break him, and when the storm broke it nearly swept his work to utter ruin.

HIS LAST SORROW

According to the laws existing for some time in Austria, Religious Orders were forbidden admittance within its boundaries, and communication with foreign superiors declared illegal. The enemies of the saint opened their attack upon him along these lines. He was cited before a tribunal and charged with being in communication with a Superior outside the Austrian realm. He was found guilty; and, by way of penalty, he was given the option to obtain a release from his vows or to suffer banishment from his native land. Rather than seek release from his vows, Clement accepted expulsion. As he ever cherished the hope that his dream of establishing his Congregation in Austria would be one day realized, this decision was a crushing blow. Then it was found to be beyond the jurisdiction of these judges to inflict this penalty. The Archbishop of Vienna drew the attention of the Emperor to this legal injustice. An enquiry was ordered. The court was censured, and our saint was saved. Nay, more, not only was the saint permitted to remain in Austria, but reliable information reached him to the effect that the matter of legalizing a branch of the Congregation in Austria was being considered by the Government. The ageing Father Clement and his friends were transported with joy at this sudden change in his fortunes. They began to make preparations for the foundation of a large novitiate, while they waited from day to day for the Imperial decree of approbation.

THE END

Feverishly those days of waiting passed over the head of our saint. Alas! a strange but definite conviction came to him that his eyes would never read the long-hoped-for decree. He was in sight of the promised land. Would he ever enter it? His strength was noticeably failing, and dangerous symptoms were manifesting themselves. One day after a Requiem High Mass the saint was so exhausted that a friend brought him home in a carriage. At home he went to a bed from which he was destined never to rise. After receiving Holy Communion in the early hours of 15 March 1821 he lapsed into unconsciousness. At twelve o’clock midday, the Angelus bell rang out. Ere its echoes died away the soul of the saint passed to eternity. John Clement Mary Hofbauer was dead. The purest heart that beat in human breast in those dark days had ceased to beat, and the last page of a noble and inspiring life was closed for ever. “Religion in Austria,” said Pius VII, “has lost its chief support.”

The Imperial decree approving of the establishment of his Congregation in Austria -that decree that the saint so long yearned to hold in his hand and to see-arrived on the day of his death. It was placed on his dead body. His cold hands could not hold it. His sightless eyes could not read it. But there it lay, upon the dead body of the saintly priest. On that day of the saint’s death the Congregation was established beyond the Alps. From that day it flourished and prospered with remarkable rapidity, till it spread far beyond the confines even of Europe.

Vienna was stirred to its depths at the news of t he saint’s death. A dense mass of humanity, embracing all sections of society, followed the saint to his grave. Soon all the mortal remains of John Clement Mary Hofbauer crumbled into the dust of the grave, but his name and his work are imperishable. He was beatified on 29 January 1888 and canonized amid great splendour by Pope St. Pius X on 20 March 1909.

Nihil Obstat:

BERNARD O’CONNOR, Diocesan Censor.

Imprimatur:

@ DANIEL MANNIX,

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis. 27th September, 1960

Listening Again To Our Lord

BY CÉILE DÉ

INDEX

THE KINGDOM OF HEAVEN IS WITHIN

MAKING ONE’S OWN SUNSHINE

SOMETIME or other we all have to make our own quota of sunshine. Life resembles our Irish climate, a little sun and plenty of rain; but nowhere else do “the little feet of the Tain” fall so softly; no other country has the wondrous cloud and sky panorama and the ever-changing beauty of mountain and hill and valley, stream and lake and river. So there are compensations. Had we continual sun, our grass would not be the vivid emerald green it is or our trees canopies of soft luxuriant leaves. Similarly with life. All lives have their need of sunshine and mist but mist may predominate. God sends us just as much of each as He sees good for us.

There are natures that continuous happiness would make build to the existence of God, just as there are persons whom the constant glare of the tropical sun makes blind. Moreover their satisfaction with life and the pleasant places in which their “lines have fallen” would blind them to the needs of others, to the good they could do if they sought out those who are crippled mentally, morally or physically by life, or those who are only temporarily maimed by its hurts. Such lives of constant sunny happiness suffer from arrested development. They have not that maturity of understanding or that capacity for sympathy which familiarity with the rains and mists of time gives. In so far they are deficient. They lack the fellow-feeling that makes us wondrous kind.

SUFFERING IN LIFE

To have met with nothing but happiness is, as far as life is concerned, to trail along on broken wing incapable of swift and lengthy flights into the wide expanses of Heaven where a proper perspective of the earth and its trials is obtained. Nothing so enlarges one’s outlook, extends one’s horizon to the uttermost limits as does suffering. Its effects on inanimate objects too is beneficent. Seeds must be let rot and die in the ground before they can produce; trees must be pruned of their overgrowth and even of healthy branches; human beings must endure pain to be purified and to reach their potential stature. It is one of the marvels of life all the good that pain does to the human heart if pain be rightly borne. It both purifies and develops just as the beneficent rain washes away dust and impurities from foliage, fruit and flowers and getting down to the heart and roots, feeds them with the growth- producing moisture.

The writer once knew a teenager with a lovely voice who sang like a thrush and with as little feeling, glorious notes but empty. Sweet sounds, no more. She heard that same singer twenty years later when the girl had endured ,”a woman’s fate of tears” and pain, but now it was a delight to listen to the mellow flute-like voice enhanced by the deep feeling that suffering had given her. The prettiest face or the one with classic regularity of feature is not the most attractive; it is the face whose lines show that joy has triumphed over sorrow, peace over pain, resignation over desire, the face where the shadows serve to emphasize the sunshine-a face to love and to trust.

LONELY SOULS

There are many in this world compelled to make regularly, and systematically their own sunshine, to squeeze a modicum of happiness out of a monotonous, dreary life: the lonely whose relatives are few or none and whose friends, having their own separate interests and occupations, can look in on them but once in a while; the sick who in addition to the pain of their illness have necessarily to bear the pain of being left often alone; the ill-matched couple who having no family have got on each other’s nerves, or who have them family reared and scattered; those other unfortunate ones who are thrown constantly with uncongenial masterful companions who persistently try to arrange their life for them and are critical of all they do and say; the sensitive who are being flayed alive, metaphorically, by unrefined, loud-voiced colleagues from whom they cannot get away and whose thoughts and ways belong to a different sphere from theirs; the middle-aged employee who has a harsh dictator-boss and has no home of her own, etc. Is not life full of such lonely souls?

Now what do we all do on a persistently wet day bereft of even a faint flicker of sunshine? Do we not try to forget the dreariness and the heaviness by burying ourselves in our duties, looking forward to the warmth and glow of a blazing fire at evening and the society of some congenial friend or of one of that larger and more faithful world of companions-a book! Is not the cosiness of the picture enhanced to our mind’s eye and ear by the incessant pattering of the raindrops on the window-panes?

A BRIGHT SIDE TO EVERYTHING

Similarly when life’s clouds overshadow us blotting out for the time the sunshine of happiness, we can prevent the mist and the blinding rain” from damping our spirits. It is no consolation to tell us that somewhere the sun is shining if our outlook is drip, drip, drip. But there is always a bright side to everything if we are happy-minded and look for it. Our peace of mind is our own inalienable possession, and we are fools if we allow anyone or anything destroy it Suppose we have been blamed in the wrong, blamed for something we would not stoop to do, or have had to listen to words that raised blisters on our sensitive skin, or have to put up with the bumptious criticisms of the ignorant, “the spurns of office, the oppressor’s wrong, the proud man’s contumely” we can surely let the matter not penetrate our “middle ear” much less our mind and heart. The Chinese say: “You cannot prevent the birds of sorrow from flying over your head, but you can prevent them from building nests in your hair.” We can dismiss it from our minds as unworthy of our consideration, finding if possible an excuse for the offender on the plea of ill-health, the crabbedness of age, lack of breeding or of education. We would be foolish indeed to give the offender the gratification of seeing by “the dejected “haviour of our visage” how much he has wounded us. If he regrets it (how few, even of the better-reared, express nowadays their regret for the pain they have caused!), he will be glad to see it did not affect us badly; if he does not regret it, our indifference will be our best corrective since it deprives him of any gratification, and our seeming invulnerability will shield us against future attacks. But to let him see that he has blotted the sun out of our heaven is to give him a handy weapon for future use.

LISTEN AND SMILE

There is only one way with the professional critic and fault-finder who seems to have an asp under his tongue-just listen and smile. Not to take up the matter is what such people dislike most. If you defend the person or action attacked you give them what they are itching for-cause for an argument, for showing off their supposed clear-sightedness into the inner meaning of the words and deeds of others. A smile is most effectual in making them realise that you consider their judgements trivial and unworthy of argument. That silences them, unless they are quite thick-skinned.

It is more often, strange to say, the trifling annoyances caused by the words and actions of others that dim if not completely blot out our sunshine. We are all brave enough to face the big troubles of life, like the loss by death or separation of those we love, the lack of health, of necessary money; the waywardness and bad behaviour of relatives; the injury done to us by slanderous tongues. These we take from the Hand of God as somehow essential to life. Heavy crosses strike us dumb, but the little things make us soluble with indignation because they are little and therefore avoidable if others had consideration and ourselves more virtue and patience. We fail to realise till too late that these too come from the Hand of God, indirectly but by His permission, for our good. We see only the human hand and tongue behind them, and that is where we make a mistake. The human side merits only to be ignored while we readily accept all as from our Father, God. Moreover we have to bear them. There is often no redness in this modern world of proletarian dictatorship where often self-assertion vaults into the saddle and cannot be remonstrated with unless you want to be ridden down. How foolish are we then to let such things affect us! “What is without remedy should be without regard.” Endure them we must as long as God wills and “In His Will is our peace” as Dante found out long years ago.

GREAT SOULS ARE TRIED BY SORROW

Have you ever met anyone who has not many difficulties to put up with? Has anyone all that his heart desires? Seen from afar, the lives of others are apparently serene and all their paths are peace. Is this true? You and I know it is not, for:

“Into each life some rain must fall

Some days must be dark and dreary!”

People put up a brave show before the world for their own sake and also because the world expects it. It has trouble enough of its own without having to contend with yours. No one likes a grouser who complains of the little things that he should have the courage to despise if he is unable to overcome them. Surely we know someone who is bearing a great trial with heroic patience and submission to the Will of God-not that all our trials come from God. Far from it. But they all have His permission, and from each of them He expects us to draw profit and to lay up a store of eternal glory. Great souls are tried by afflictions but little souls turn trifles into big afflictions, as irritation turns a sore into a cancer.

When you think of it, how little others can do to destroy one’s happiness! They can take my wealth, my health, my home, my friends, my reputation, but they cannot touch the inner core of me, my conscience, my mind, my character, my opinions, my peace. The external ME can be humiliated, beaten, dragged in the mire, imprisoned, even executed, but the real ME is untouchable. They can dub me liar, knave, thief, but if I am none of these things such persons are beating their heads against a rock. They are hurting only themselves. Tyrants all down the ages have had to endure this bitter sense of defeat when up against a martyr of Christ or a confessor. They realised to their chagrin that only the shell of the person was in their power. Enclosed within that was a something they could not destroy. Martyrs like St. John More and St. John Fisher went gaily to their death, for the sunshine of God’s Presence irradiated them always. Only a guilty conscience could destroy that. I too can enjoy that Sun if I keep my conscience free from sin. If my little world be dark and gloomy I can raise my drawbridge and withdraw into the fortress of my soul, and enjoy the sunlight of God. My peace no man can take from me if my peace be founded on the rock that is God.

SUBMISSION TO GOD’S WILL

There is only one way for bearing the heavy crosses life brings in its train, and that is complete submission to God’s Will. When such a cross is laid on us God lends a helping Hand and shares its weight with us. Religion tells us, and also our own experience, that often what we consider a great trial will turn out in the future to have been a blessing in disguise. The mother who sees her son disgraced and sent to prison for embezzlement would surely have preferred that he had died when young and innocent. Eternity will demonstrate this to our satisfaction about all the trials we have endured on earth. But we must bear them patiently and submissively and if we can-happily-as being God’s arrangement in our behalf. We must travel the King’s highway of the Cross with sunny cheerfulness. We see only the inch of time in front of us, God sees all. He will judge what is best for us, and He is our Father and loves us. He will work things out for our good no matter how hopeless they seem now. How often one hears the old asserting this fact! But when God looks down on those carrying big crosses with heroism, how small you and I must seem in His Eyes when we childishly resent some trifling annoyance, even allowing it to blot out our sunshine!

VALUE OF SQUALLS

And if at times a transient breeze

Break the blue crystal of the seas.

What of it? Can you not admire the beauty of variety? Can you not fix your mind on the commingled charm of light and shade, sunshine and shadow? Your life was hitherto a blue sunlit expanse of water, it will be so again. A squall that breaks up the calm of lake or ocean is but a passing event. It will soon be over. What a boon to you if you could only try to see the beauty in it for there is beauty apparent or latent in all things if only the eye be trained to discern it.

The seething waters and foam-capped billows, the howling wind and bellying sails -is there not a majestic fury about them that is of interest? Anyway do they not give a thrill? You can’t be bored while a squall lasts. The monotonous quiet has been rudely shattered and scope given to a set of different sensations. If you can perceive no good behind the sudden onslaught of a tempest at least be content knowing you will survive it and that life will resume its quiet steady flow after a little.

BREASTING THE STORM

How much richer you will be if only you have offered up the squall to Him Who with a “Peace! be still!” calmed the turbulant waters of Galilee! How much nearer you will be to His Sacred Heart if only you have gone through the squall with skill and honour; taken proper precautions to save your boat from destruction and to lose no spar of virtue! What matter if the boat be chipped, the sails torn and rather draggled, the masts slightly out of gear-these are but signs that the boat has been through a trying time and has weathered the storm effectually.

What a much nobler vessel it is than the freshlypainted, spick and span -oh, yes, but quite untried-vessel now proudly sailing out of dock in all its virgin beauty and-ignorance! Yours has come triumphant through opposing forces which were out to wreck it if possible, and the few scars are but the marks of its victorious struggle. So be comforted. Dock your vessel for repairs. Treat it kindly. See in what it has failed so as to be better prepared for the next tempest- tempests are part of life! Study its weak points while not forgetting its strong points, and foresee and plan future tactics. Lay up a store of requisites that will enable you to overcome more easily the next storm, for come it will on the circumscribed lake that is your home.

To drop metaphor -throw yourself at the feet of the merciful Saviour Who watched your behaviour all through the trial. Ask Him to show you clearly in what you failed, in what you could have done better. Ask pardon for the faults committed; the natural upset to your equipoise, the rending of the crystal of your soul, the break-up of your usual imperturbability. You did not go out to seek the storm; you were forced into the thick of it unprepared, flung into the maelstrom by another’s quick anger at perhaps nothing. That you have not been submerged by sin is due entirely to the living protection of Christ; that you have not committed even a deliberate venial sin is due also to Him.

The little faults of surprise, the chipping your boat got, the scratching of its smooth surface, the spoiling of its fresh paint might all be a great deal worse. Take note of them. Ask God’s forgiveness and His help to avoid them in future. Study what measures are best to be taken in such circumstances so that next time-there’s sure to be a next time while faulty human beings inhabit this earth-you may ride triumphant over the billows like a seabird poised on crested wave.

NEVER LOSE HEART

Suppose you have failed badly-lost your temper, said things you should not have said, allowed your poor heart to be submerged for hours and days with waves of hot anger at the bitter wounding words, waves of bitter resentment of the cruel things said to you so unjustly and so rudely, suppose that instead of keeping the matter to yourself you’ve gone about pouring it out on others and causing uncharitable feelings in them-even so do not be dejected. God saw the provocations you got, saw in how far each of you was guilty. Rome was not built in a day, and perfection is a mightier structure. Take heart. It is not easy to withstand an onslaught like that. It is the work of a lifetime, and a long lifetime, to learn how to come triumphant-virtuously triumphant I mean of course-out of such a trying situation.

Persons more experienced than you have come out of a similar crisis with nothing to boast of. You’ll do better by degrees. Yes, that implies many a renewal of the conflict. Well, what else are you here for? How long must a wrestler or runner practise his art? What a trying apprenticeship everyone-artist, musician, sculptor, architect, engineer must undergo before he knows his profession. And yours is the most important profession in the world-to become Christ-like. Why only for God’s goodness, the splendid way He imparts knowledge to us and helps us to understand and remember it, we would not learn the A.B.C. of it in the longest life time.

“CONSUMMATUS IN BREVI”

Clever pupils like St. Aloysius, St. John Berchmans, the Little Flower, Marie Celine assimilated the teaching at once. A little tuition from the Divine Master and the lesson was theirs for ever. They went ahead so rapidly that they were “finished” in a short time and their school days over. But dense, unwieldy pupils like you and me have to go slowly, learn painfully line by line, and alas! notwithstanding the labour spent, we easily forget the facts we had acquired with such trouble. The lesson is hammered in day after day, by trial after trial, and theoretically we know what we should do and how we should conduct ourselves in certain circumstances, but when the testing time comes, puff! all the knowledge vanishes before a storm of emotion and human frailty. It is only in the chilling coolness of the reaction that we remember what the Master had taught us, and expected us to do. How easy it is to lose our heads! How wise we are after the event! How well we know the little word or term that precipitated the crisis, though scarcely meant at all! And ah! how ashamed we are at failing the Teacher so badly. How pained He must have felt at that General Inspection with the whole court of Heaven looking on! Little pride He can take out of His pupil!

GOD KNOWS ALL

But unlike earthly teachers He is not annoyed. He knows how hard the lesson is. He is not disappointed,,He knows the floodtide of anger swept us off our feet and that we did not really mean to hurt Him and disgrace Him. His Mercy is above all His works, and if we only acknowledge our fault and ask His help He will begin all over again patiently with even greater detail in His explanations. So good is our God to us, so loving a Father, so patient a Teacher, so true a Friend.

Unlike the earthly teacher who perhaps overrates our ability, who certainly overrates the clearness and excellence of his own explanation, the dear Lord knows of what clay He made us, knows every weak spot in our nature, knows every hereditary defect, every acquired defect and sympathises with us in all as long as we struggle against them.

If we could only hear Him after a defeat He would say: “Courage, Child, you could have been worse. You will do better next time, now that you recognise the danger and your weakness. Lean on me and lean hard. My grace is sufficient for you, if only you trust in Me for everything and love Me.”

PRIDE AND PREJUDICE

Pride is exaggerated self-esteem, self-complacency, belief in our own powers because we consider them our own and not merely lent to us by God. Pride is almost ineradicable; we are apparently all born with it as with our blood-vessels. Some get a lot of it knocked out of them if they are lucky enough to be born into a houseful of brothers and sisters, others get rid of it only in old age, if even then. And the proudest are those who think they are humble and that they have no pride. If I might venture an opinion it would be that it is ousted only by the love of God and the realisation -attempt at realisation, that is,-of His Divine perfections and powers. The one thing that He asked His followers to imitate in Him was His meekness and humility of heart. “Learn of Me, because I am meek and humble of heart.” A great help for us is the sight of humility in others, humility that goes hand in hand with trained knowledge or skill or excellence and achievement in some walk of life. To meet persons who did things and know things and yet remain humble in word and deed has a very telling effect.

It might be thought that an offensive display of pride and arrogance in another would so disgust us that we ourselves would practise humility. But it does not always work out that way. While we are amused-or disgusted, at the obnoxious display, we are far more inclined to humility by a show of genuine humility in others.

A STRIKING LESSON

To see a successful musician, thinker, sculptor, painter, teacher, inventor listen attentively and humbly to the opinion of another on his own special work, and even subject his own opinion to that other’s gives one a striking lesson. No one has any patience with the great Pooh-Bah who withers the enquirer with scornful glance and hurtful word, intimating if not actually saying like Milton’s Satan that “not to know him” for the Authority he is on the subject is “to argue oneself unknown:” Even ordinary breeding rules out behaviour like this. Still how often we see it!

In some small area X poses as the authority on pearls or prunes, the violin or the jew’s harp, painting a picture or a chair, and dare any lesser star even meekly insinuate that he too knows something of the subject-that way annihilation lies. If he does and if others show signs of beginning to believe it then the Authority on the subject by a word here or a smile there proceeds to shatter his bubble reputation concerning the matter. And the Pooh-Bah does not realise how ridiculous he looks. You and I and many of us are as petty and as envious as all that!

Lord, keep me from making a fool of myself like this in the little province I have learned to regard as my special territory! Make me realise that my knowledge of the matter, my handiwork, my skill are infinitesimal compared with that which others possess! In the land of the blind the man with one eye is King, but he loses all claim to distinction when with the possessors o f two eyes.

“WHAT IS THERE THAT THOU HAST NOT RECEIVED?”

Any gift I may have -gift sounds too big a word-Let me say, any little knowledge or capability I may have, has been by God, and it is only a pebble on the shore of His knowledge of the same matter, and even on that of countless other human beings better informed than I. None of us, let us be as proud as Lucifer, is so foolish as to compare our vaunted perfection with that of God-a rush light to the sun! No, but we compare it with that of others. We think we are more intelligent, more witty, more cultured, more foreseeing, more business-like, of greater wealth or bluer blood then others, and we make the comparison where the advantage is easily on our side. Above all we compare ourselves with others in some small department or section of a department in which we have been moderately successful and flatter ourselves that we are master of the whole art. We rear roses well and we think ourselves prize gardeners; we make a “light” eatable cake and deem ourselves chefs, cordons-blues; we bring on beginners well at music and consider ourselves virtuosi; we run a few boards together for a hen-house and deem ourselves a great builder; and so on. Any little success serves to inflate our pride to balloon size.

It is very funny to see how we exalt ourselves above others the moment we get charge of anything, be it only a broom or a mouse-trap. “I got charge of it. She did not!” At once we assert our superiority by keeping the article under lock and key, and requiring the others to come and ask us deferentially for the loan of it. “The key is in my pocket, not hers. She has to ask ME for it.” What a splendid victory! We get a back stairs to sweep and we scarcely allow anyone to tread on it and woe betide them if they spill even one drop of water on it! We are up in arms and altogether forget ourselves-or is it that we remember ourselves and our lofty dignity? How God must smile at our childish folly, so like that of the cock-a-doodle-doo who chases every other cock and hen off his particular scrap-heap!

THE EXAMPLE OF CHRIST

Christ chose, deliberately chose, to appear a carpenter’s son when He could have chosen to appear the Son of the most powerful Ruler of the earth. He spent His childhood and youth running and fetching for His Mother, picking up the tools St. Joseph wanted, gathering shavings off the floor, carrying back to the owners the mended stool or cart-wheel and which of us would deliberately choose that lowly station and occupation, especially if our intention was to reform and reclaim the world? And if that is the station into which we have been born do we not as soon as ever we can, cut the painters and steer for another country where we hope to be unrecognised and to rise above all that?

God resists the proud and gives His grace to the humble. He withholds His blessing from the haughty man. He rejects him, disowns him, leaves him to himself so that his works finally crumble. Nothing he does can meet with permanent success for he is not a child of God, but spawn of the devil. He has made himself the centre of things, glories in his words and deeds, is filled with reverence for his achievements and wants you to be so too, acts and talks as if he had made himself and achieved a masterpiece. His whole bearing, proclaims “I am not as the rest of men!” Christ in his parable of the “Pharisee and the Publican” exalts the humble self-despising sinful Publican (tax-gatherer in the East!): above the proud arrogant and apparently good-living Pharisee. We too have that much of good in us that we abhor the pride and self-glorification of the Pharisee, and are glad it was the humble tax-gatherer that Christ praised. But-do we apply the lesson to ourselves? Does it not take the cauterising iron of forty or fifty years of life and humiliations to burn the lesson into us? Even that does not suffice to teach some of us. As an act of humility I may let people literally step over my prostrate body but while I lie there may I not be thinking how humble I am to let them do it or how heavily A takes the necessary step over my body and how much more agilely and gracefully I could do it if purpositions were reversed! Theoretically I know that exterior acts of humility are worthless without interior acts of self-abasement. But the devil tries to make me poison with self-satisfaction and pride every good act of mine. That’s his job.

“URIAH HEEP”

He even tries to make me assume the cloak of humility to ape it, to put it on as a top-dressing that will win the esteem of others. How often we hear people belittling their manifest good qualities or attainments so as to attract praise. . How nauseating to hear a good singer or musician or poet or cook declare that they are devoid of voice or music or poetry or the ability to cook! How much more glory they give to God if they say simply: “I can sing or play or cook but I am hopeless at languages” or something else. To deny God’s gift is a churlish thing as well as a lie: We make no impression on others except one of lack of candour and simplicity plus one that we are so proud of the unacknowledged gift that we are simply inviting laudation.

False humility is pride and deceit; true humility recognises its gift and thanks god, its Giver. But it also sees its defects as defects, its limitations as limitations. This is a task that takes a lifetime. How inclined we are to give a nice-sounding euphemistic name to an ugly quality when we ourselves are the possessors of it: our love of power and of interfering in everything becomes helpfulness; our hurtful bluntness becomes candour; our over-care of ourselves a desire not to give trouble; our lack of sympathy and kindness a love of silence and of the hidden life; our selfish engrossment with ourselves alone a love of retirement; our volcanic temper a righteous indignation, and so on. The longer we live the more we recognise that not merely is romantic love blind but that self-love is as blind as a bat. We never “see ourselves as others see us,” and hence we are never free from “foolish notions” of our own perfections, like the religious who being told than she was very deep replied, “yes, but it is a nice deep!” What is it but this “foolish notion” that makes a person who cannot sing or act or read aloud or play the violin etc., insist on doing it? No one dare even hint that her attempt is not a “howling success.” You just have to endure while the attempt goes on, and try to switch your mind on to something pleasant. No one will dare tell us the truth because the truth will not make us “free” but-mad! And even with that we won’t believe it.

It takes at least two lifetimes to acquire a lowly opinion of ourselves, and one may count on one hand the number of humble persons one has met in a long life. It has happened that someone you counted as humble while in the shaded backwaters became when exposed to the glare that beats not upon a throne but a mere ant-hill, a veritable dictator. Only God knows the heart for what it is. “He knew what was in man” but loved him in spite of it as we love a deformed child. It is probable we acquire humility only when the searchlight of God’s knowledge and judgement is turned on us at death, and reveals us as we are.

The wise man is known by the fewness of his words, the fool lifteth up his voice. “What I say is this” etc., the tone of voice indicating capital letters! That is one of the outward sins of pride-the raised voice and imperious tone. Other signs are the itch to be talking and giving out one’s opinions, the constant correction of others, even of those older and above us in rank; the irritation manifested if our opinions are not agreed with; the high dudgeon if something we do is condemned; the contempt for the opinions of others; the boasting of our little bits of success at this and that; the scornful laugh holding others up to ridicule; the debunking clause put in when others are praised.

“Lord, as far as I see, all these defects are mine and have long been. But I suppose this acknowledgment is only momentary. If others should attribute to me even the slightest of these defects I would probably go up in flames. Make me realise, Lord, my weakness, my faults, let me see myself as others see me but give me the grace to bear the revelation. Give me courage to “take it” like a saint and to set about acknowledging and correcting my many faults, while passing over in silence what 1 see wrong in others.Jesus, meek and humble of Heart, give me even a spark of your meekness and humility!”

PREJUDICE

Prejudice is deadly, is annihilating in its effects. A prejudiced mind will never allow that there is any good in the person or thing it is prejudiced against. It may even allow you to state your “case for”; it may allow you to build up a strong defence but it will finally level it all, with an atomic utterance like: “Nothing good can come out of Nazareth.” Pride is bad, but as far as I see, it does not wreak such destruction as prejudice. It is more a personal affair and so latent that one can ignore it and discount it. But prejudice is insidious. Like the tide it creeps in stealthily far back through creeks and inlets, and with devastating effects, or like a river in spate spreading over the land and leaving slime in its wake.

Prejudice as its name indicates, is a judgement formed before it is reasonable. If people give us reason to dislike them then our dislike is not prejudice; but when we suddenly take a dislike to a person without being able to account for it or for some silly reason like this-”we always disliked Kerry people or Kildare people, or that we once were badly treated by a person of the same name, and when we allow nothing good to be said of that person, then we have prejudice. We cannot account for our harmless likes and dislikes but prejudice does not enter in until we applaud all a certain person does just because we like him, or disapprove of all he says or does just because we dislike him.

I do not like thee, Doctor Fell,

The reason why I cannot tell

But this I know and know full well, I do not like thee, Doctor Fell.

FAVOURITES

Prejudice is nearly always taken to be against a person, but blind prejudice in favour of some one has equally deleterious results, for those listening to our commendations of the favourite and sensing our prejudice for the other will discount all we say, and probably become prejudiced against him. Action and re-action are equal and opposite, they tell us! The world is full of people given to both sorts of prejudices, and it is often hard to see which is the worse for both breed evil. We dislike the man who will believe his favourite can do no wrong, closing his eyes to every defect of character, but we lose all patience with the man who sees no good whatever in his bête noire. The reasonable person, the level-headed person will build up his judgement by slow degrees, weighing the good against the bad and believing that no one is wholly white or wholly black but that each of us is only a dim and dusty grey.

It is anything but a sign of level-headedness to see nothing good in those we dislike without cause, it is as if they were always focussed on the blind spot of our spiritual eye for good. We are stone-blind to any good in them. everything they are and do irritates us, their manner, their talk, their walk, their dress, their sentiments-we even dislike their cat and their dog!

AN OFF-SHOOT OF PRIDE

Prejudice is of course an off-shoot of pride. The humble of heart and of mind are never intolerant. They question their own opinions, they doubt their conclusions, they weigh things in the clarifying light that humility always gives, and thus they are able to adjust and alter their opinions. They are open to conviction. Prejudice never alters, never gives in. It is as obstinate as it is unreasoning. That’s why it is prejudice.

We all respect a man who will say of his bête noire: “though I dislike him I can see that he is good and charitable,” or “just towards his employees” or “straight in his dealings.” We value the fair-mindedness of such a speaker, but if he launches forth into philippics, accusations, without foundation “like the baseless fabric of a vision” we pay no heed to anything he says. It is all the poisonous froth of prejudice. To distrust all red-haired people because one red-haired person deceived us, or everyone called Macintosh because a Macintosh once let us down is ridiculous.

THE GOOD OPINION OF OTHERS

There is a danger that prejudice even though “a little wave, will beat admission” sometime, somewhere working great wrong to the victim of it. We all have a right to the good opinion of others. We all are obliged to think well of others until we are definitely sure of their misdeeds, and even then, if we cannot give them the benefit of the doubt, we are bound to excuse them on the ground of lack of instruction, or of proper bringing up, or of education or of self-control. “Father, forgive them for they know not what they do.” But it is manifestly unjust that a man should let his mind be poisoned against another simply because of what a prejudiced person told him. To be fair we should take people as we find them, not as X. found them, though prudence will tell us to keep what X. said in the back of our head, if he were not a prejudiced person. To let ourselves be taken in as X. . was taken in and after he had warned us would be folly. X.’s opinion was not the outcome of prejudice but of experience.

We must not be biassed by what prejudice instils into us but form our own judgement slowly and after long experience. Can we do this? Often it is impossible, for our friend’s biassed opinions will keep occurring to our minds and tingeing our opinions. But we should make an honest effort to be fair.

MAKING ENEMIES FOR ANOTHER

The victim of prejudice may turn out to be a very decent fellow, though his enemy cannot see it. It may be that these two ruffle up each other’s feathers, while I can get on with either. What an awful lot of unhappiness would be, and is, caused by one person making enemies for another! How miserable it must be to feel that someone who is a perfect stranger to you has been impregnated by a third person with unreasoning dislike of you! What a severe account will have to be rendered by the person who communicates his prejudices to another, poisoning the other’s mind against some one who never did him any harm! One such prejudice communicated may be the starting point for innumerable feuds and countless mortal sins. Often uneducated people ignore this, or are ignorant of it.

By spreading prejudice and thereby robbing another’s life of its meed of happiness, or depriving him of the friendship and esteem of others or the position he has a right to expect is to him a serious injustice and one which will bring down on the doer the punishment of Heaven.

And what incalculable harm we do ourselves by indulging our prejudices! There is no form of uncharitableness so hard to forgive. We can excuse the man who hates his enemy and injures him; he has some cause and some reason on his side. To him God has said: “Forgive your enemy till seventy times seven times,” and he knows definitely where he stands. But the prejudiced man has no reason on his side, and possibly excuses his blind dislike by the plea that it is one of those innocent dislikes for which he is not accountable. It would be innocent if he suppressed it, but does he?

Grant, O Lord, that no one may ever suffer through any unreasoning dislike of mine, that 1 may never influence others to dislike those 1 dislike! And if ever prejudice gets the upper-hand of me, rebuke me, O Lord, lest 1 offend you, and endanger another’s welfare!

GLOOMING INTHE GLOAMING

In the dangerous forties the devil often tempts us to get introspective, to ask ourselves if we have got the best that life can hold. While never doubting our God-sent “call” we wonder if we have missed the best turn in following that disembodied Voice; if there were in His service other softer, greener paths we could have taken and avoided the rough and rutty road we took so nonchalantly. In our eagerness to develop whatever intellectual gifts we possessed and to make ourselves models of efficiency and usefulness, were we not unconsciously a little tactless in handling the human element, a little Roma-locuta-est mannered in order to get our work done, forgetting the sensitive mimosas in our path. Perhaps a business-like manner that others took for brusqueness rubbed many up the wrong way and made enemies for us for life that time, especially the Setting Sun, amply revealed, one now, one again. Or is it the old and true saying that he who never made enemies never made anything?

“You have no enemies you say,

Alas! my friend the boast is poor.

They that have mingled in the fray

Of duty that the brave endure

Must have made foes.”

How much of it is our fault, how much the natural resentment for useful work accomplished? Would it have been better (as some have done) to have glided noiselessly along the grassy path getting quickly out of others light and way than to have trod firmly and resonantly along the concrete road open to all, thinking only of the task to be performed? Do young people ever suspect that there can be so much jealousy of success in life, that their little role is of such importance as to rouse anyone’s ill-will? I don’t think they do. They are too simple, too unsuspecting.

THE REFINING EFFECT OF TRIAL

God sends this trial to smoothen and round off the rough texture of our life work. It is now ready to be. crowned by Him as an opus Dei. Without the refining effect of the trial the work would have been only commonplace and third rate. That unconsciously we may have caused this hostility does not make it any easier to bear, for looking back we remember only the attraction of the work, the joie de vivre with which we threw ourselves into the fray in order to win through for our side. That it would in later life assume the appearance of a scrum we had not the faintest idea. Those with and for whom we did the work may be long since gathered in the courtyards of Paradise, a fact which adds to our pain as we must needs forego their sympathy and understanding of the situation. And when we knew them and worked with them in the gaiety of our youth we had no conception that life would have this brick ready to shy at our grey head. Consequently we are unprepared for it, except in so far as we have come to realise that many surprising things, not by any means all gracious and beautiful, lie folded in the rose-petals of Time. On then, brave heart, put your shoulder under the arm of His Cross as He drags it uphill. One grateful glance from those Divine Eyes will repay for all.

“FOLLOW ME”

He lived through 33 years of misunderstanding and contempt, ingratitude and obloquy, can you not endure it for a few years? You have His help and love and sympathy, His complete appreciation of every factor. He had no one’s but His Divine Father’s, for no one else exactly understood the situation. The human race for whom He was enduring everything remained aloof and indifferent when they were not actively hostile to Him. For thirty years of His life people passed Him by, barely glancing at Him, and if they had to become conscious of His Personality it was in a vague, disinterested way; asking each other: “Who is this He is? Is He by any chance the Young Man Who is the Son of Joseph, the carpenter?” On Calvary He looked down from the Cross on a sea of malignant faces-excepting the four faithful Ones, Mary His Mother, Mary Magdalen, Mary of Cleophas and St. John. Many were quite ignorant of the Great Redemption of the Race taking place on Calvary. Many asked what was all the fuss about, only to be told probably that it was nothing but some malefactors meeting with their just deserts, or that an agitator, a dangerous young man who had been stirring up the people and causing trouble was at last being dealt with as he deserved, or that it was a would-be reformer, a quack miracle-worker and healer, an associate of sinners, a carpenter’s son with queer ideas who had fallen foul of the Governor and High Priests, and so on! It is easy to imagine what ignorant or malicious tongues poured out. Let me just think of this when my little world sums me up disdainfully as a good-for-nothing, a dreamer, a shirker or-worse!

Harsher names, more unjust names can never be given me than were given the Creator of Heaven and Earth, the Redeemer of mankind Who shed to the last drop of His Blood to save us when a sigh of His would have sufficed to atone to His Father for our iniquities. But love of us made Him give all. As He looked down the ages for nearly 2,000 years how few He could see who really loved Him for Himself! How few willing to give Him all-their life, their love, their possessions material and spiritual! “He trod the wine-press alone.” He says by the voice of the psalmist: “My heart hath expected reproach and misery, and I looked for one that would comfort Me and I found none.” (Ps. 68. 21–2). I have no right to expect better treatment from the human race than my Lord and Master received. “We indeed justly,” ‘but He-!

Nihil Obstat,

Gulielmus Dargan, S.J., Censor Theol. Deput.

Imprimi Potest,

@ JOANNES CAROLUS, Archiep. Dublinen,

Hiberniae Primas.

Dublini, die 15 Octobris, 1951.

********

Listening To Our Lord

BY CEILE DÉ

INDEX

WHAT IS IT TO BE A SAINT?

THE MOST wonderful thing about the Saints after their dissimilarity is their similarity, which is a golden chain binding them all together. In the Calendar of Saints we find all sorts and conditions of men: all trades and professions, from the tramp to the king, from the former wanton to the virgin, from the child to the centenarian. Some particular virtue is exemplified in the life of each, just as some particular vice or tendency to vice had to be overcome by nearly all of them. But, when all is said and done, the bedrock principle underlying each life is an intense, personal love of God, showing itself outwardly in sanctity of life and in zeal to bring souls to Him.

To get to heaven we must each be a saint. We must carry out God’s wishes in our behalf- as a general rule. We may occasionally, through human weakness, do the imperfect thing or even commit faults, but the general trend of our life and being must be towards God. This is to be an ordinary saint and merit heaven. But to follow our Leader with distinction, to merit the great title “insignis” we must give more than that: we must not remain a “private” always. Most people love their country, but it is only the choice few who give their wealth, their time, their health, their life for its benefit. Many can be found who serve their employer faithfully enough; but how few devote themselves and their energy wholeheartedly to his service. How few sink self out of sight in order to promote his interests. Similarly with the things of God. To be a saint ofthe “distinguished class is to live and move and have our being in God.

He is one who makes Christ his friend, confidant and companion; who walks arm-in-arm with Christ through life; who makes God’s opinions his opinions, God’s laws his laws, God’s judgments his judgments, God’s will his will. A saint will say, on every occasion, What has God said about this?”“ ““What would God wish about this?” Self gets no foothold. It may and does strive to thrust in its head, as the old Adam never dies easily in anyone, but it is thrust out again, more often than not. A saint acts every hour and moment of his life on the maxim: “ Not my will but Thine be done, O Lord.” Nor does he wait for that will to he thrust upon him. He goes before to meet it, and goes joyously, no matter what his private feelings are in the matter.

Is this easy? By no means. Try it for a while, and see what daily, hourly repressing of self it implies, what stabs to selflove and self-esteem, what patience and sweetness with others. It means we must close our eyes to half of what goes on around us, realising that “It is wise and kind to be somewhat blind.” We must turn a deaf ear to seventy-five per cent of what we hear, and to a hundred per cent of the gossip and uncharitableness of small minds. We must take snubs and slights silently and, if possible, gallantly-that is, with thankfulness. To do this latter is to he far, indeed, on the road to sanctity. How often even holy people resent our casual forgetfulness of them, not to mention the deliberate slighting of them! How often do they assume an air of injured aloofness for some fancied slight! And if they in the green wood do this, what about you and me in the dry? It needs great sanctity not to retaliate with snub for snub, neglect for neglect, indifference for indifference. But those in love with our beloved Lord will find it easy, for they will refuse to hurt Him.

We have been listening all our life to the Gospel -”do good for evil, pray for those who calumniate you”-but how little do ordinary good people live up to it! They are quite satisfied to leave the wrong-doer severely alone, if they do not discuss his misdemeanours with their cronies. Is this being a saint? A thousand times no! What would a great saint do? We know, from reading his life, that he would watch for a chance to repay the unkindness with kindness. He would ask God to forgive the wrong-doer and bless him with His choicest blessings. Not merely would he repeat these things with his lips, but he would wish them sincerely from his heart, though the human side of his heart were ready to tear the person to pieces. He would not have to leave his gift at the altar and go back and be reconciled, because he never willingly in his lighter nature harboured any ill-feeling against his enemy. He accepted wrong and injustice as his due. 0, loving Lord, how easy it is to say this: how hard to do! How many lifetimes it will take to teach some of us to practise it! Grant, 0 Lord, that I, the weakest of your little ones, may have risen to it before You stand on the Shore to welcome me!

A holy Passionist says: “A saint is a chalice of charity.” A fine definition when one remembers that charity is twofold: the love of God and of one’s neighbour. The great lesson of Our Lord’s life is love and kindness. All during His public life He hammered into the hard reluctant ears ofthe Jews the lesson: “Little children love one another.” By this shall all men know that you are My Disciples if you have love for one another.” And it would seem as if He set no store by love of God without love of the neighbour, for what father accepts the love lavished on him if his dear ones are disliked and illtreated? We cannot love God while showing coldness and contempt for others who probably are far dearer to Him than we. If we want God to love us, we must be kind to His friends, even if they are our enemies. If we love God, we shall love all He loves, no matter what our private opinion may be regarding them. To exclude anyone from our love is to exclude God.

If sanctity can be reduced to a phrase, it is: Become another Christ an alter Christus. This means adopting His view about things, His charity to all, His forgiveness of all, even of His bitter slanderous enemies; His kindness towards all, excluding no one; His humility, His thoughtfulness for others, His tact, His simplicity, His poverty, His love of suffering and of humiliations, His peace and His efforts to spread peace, His hatred of riches, power, swank, high places and officialdom.

Easy to do? No! impossible without a d eep, personal love of Christ. If love for Him makes us “take up the harp of life and smite the chords with might,” it will “smite the chord of self,” and make it pass in music out of sight.” Self is the obstacle to be overcome by love, and love alone.

CHRIST, MY FRIEND

WHAT GOD wants is love: “Love, and do what you please.” Why? Because where love is the Beloved is never wilfully ignored, never injured, His interests never neglected. If we love Him, we shall serve and obey Him. We shall do what He wishes rather than what we ourselves wish. And, when His will clashes with ours, we shall sacrifice our own will. In proportion to the love will be the sacrifice, and, conversely, in proportion to the sacrifice will be the love. They mutually help and increase each other. The sacrifice of itself is no pleasure to God except as a proof of the love. A mother considers as priceless the birthday gift of a pair of gloves bought by her child out of her saved-up pennies not because of the value of the gift, but because of the great love implied by the child’s daily renunciation of sweets, etc., so as to have the necessary money for the gift. The child puts the mother first and herself-nowhere. If we could put God first and self nowhere, God would have proof that we love Him first, not self.

What does it mean to put God first? How can I keep thinking of God when I have duties to attend to and a day’s work to fit in despite interruptions and obstacles? Why, the day is not long enough for all I have to do without my trying to put God in as an extra.” That’s just it. It is not an “extra” God wants to be, but part and parcel of your life in an unobtrusive, inaggressive way. Make Him your Friend and Companion as you go about your work; talk to Him about it; consult Him as to the advisability of doing so-and-so. Appeal to Him for help and guidance when you pass His Home in the Blessed Sacrament, His crucifix or His picture. Many ordinary people, rushing through the city on foot or in motors, never tire of saluting Him as they pass church after church: how much more thought and love should He get from those specially devoted to Him.

Alas! do I not often rush by the chapel without giving Him a thought, much less a glance or loving word? Am I going to be outdone by others-I on whom He has showered His choicest graces and blessings? Am I going to be His friend only at stated intervals, and when I feel inclined, while all the rest of the day forgetting the Sacred Bond that is between us? Is this real, devoted love? I may say my prescribed prayers, do all the prescribed duties, and do it all only in the manner of a galvanized corpse-a robot; the glow, the elixir of eternal life, the vital flame does not permeate my life. I am an engine devoid of electricity. I am living a respectable life, outwardly all I should be, but oh! the difference between me and those others who have a real friendship for Christ! Love that moves the sun and moon and all the stars would make my life as radiantly beautiful as theirs if only I could make myself really love our dear Lord.

God is no Shylock, demanding His pound of flesh. Poor God! asking so little, content with so little -getting so little! But the little He does ask He wants good; that is, done through love; not through fear or duty or routine. An earthly spouse does not expect his beloved to be thinking of Him all day while he is out; but is there an hour of the day when a loving wife is not working, directly or indirectly, for her husband and his interests, and therefore thinking of him? While absorbed in the affairs of his house and his family, she is as surely working for him and thinking of him, as he is for her while devoting himself to his business on the farm or in the city. Is there not co-operation there, mutual understanding, confidence and love?

How much more is not this the case with God? Who else but God will ever understand clearly and perfectly our nature, our work, our motives, and the calls on our time? The river of love that flows between our soul and God is the only river of love that incurs no risk of being choked up with misunderstandings, suspicion, doubt. There will and can be none on His side, for He reads the heart as we read an open book. If anything comes between our soul and God, it is we ourselves who put it there owing to our fallen nature. God cannot be disloyal; God cannot be suspicious; God cannot doubt our love or our motives, for all things are naked and open to His Eyes.

Is the river of love between my soul and Christ flowing freely, crystal-clear, unpolluted by my love of myself? Have I other loves but His, other interests but His, other confidants but Him? Do I turn to Jesus, my Friend and Partner in all the circumstances of my life, from my rising to my setting? How foolish I am if I refrain from consulting Infinite Love and Infinite Wisdom Who walks beside me all day long, Who spreads His protecting Wings over me as I sleep, and Who eagerly watches my first conscious thought as I awake to see if it will speed to Him in love. How disappointed He is if my first thought is of myself, or if on awakening in the night I do not remember His hovering Presence protecting me by His power.

How easy you and I could make life for ourselves if we turned to the Partner at our side when things are not running smoothly, or we find it hard to hit it off with somebody, or our work is not turning out successfully, or a nurse or a patient is causing anxiety, or some dear one at home is ill; how much better to tell Jesus our Friend all about it than to look for a human friend to confide in. The human friend can donothing to help us except to listen, and he won’t do even that if you trouble him often; but Jesus our Friend is not only willing to help us, but is all-powerful and all-wise, He is only longing to show us what a loyal Partner he is, and all that He can do if we only trust in Him and ask Him. He has no desire to be a “ Sleeping Partner” in the business. He is all anxiety to make the company a success both for life and for eternity. Am I going to allow Him?

ROLLING AWAY THE STONE

THOSE WHO are overtaken by trouble and found totally unprepared are foolish; but there is a more foolish class still-those who sit awaiting sorrow, who can think of nothing else, from dawn till dewy eve, but that trouble is looming down on them ever and always, out of the sunshine as out of the mist. As in all events of life, it is the golden mean that is the wise and safe thing-namely, to be prepared for both failure and success, joy and sorrow, to cultivate something like the sort of feeling we had as children when we played thegame of “Close your eyes and see what God will send you.” Trust in God as our Father and Friend would give this childlike feeling of restful confidence.

Great military strategists like Napoleon never planned for success without also mapping out their action in case of defeat. Strong minds never limit themselves to preparing for failure alone, or for success alone. To be an incurable optimist may have its defects, but to be an incurable pessimist poisons the very wells of life. Better be taken unawares now and again by sorrow than be of such a gloomy nature that you can recognise the joy that was with you, only when it has receded into the dim distance. Optimists may occasionally be “let down” by life, but pessimists always let themselves down, for they anticipate trouble even where it is not. It is no good to send joy to the trouble-lover, for he will treat it as grief, and even turn it into grief by his bilious outlook, just as some diseased persons turn their very food into poison. Selfpoison, physical and mental, is not unknown. Such people think that nothing good or pleasant or lucky can ever fall to their lot or to the lot of anyone connected with them. According to them, their children are bound to fail at their exams., their crops to fail, their husband’s business to fall off, their sick relative to die. If they settle on a day’s outing, they know it will rain. If they get a new range, 1a new maid or new milkman, the new is sure not to be as good as the old. Nothing good can happen to them. In reality it often does, but they -fail to see it. Even if the sun is shining, they detect a sharp wind under it, or they say it is only a pet day and won’t last. Somehow or other “tears must be told down for the charmed toy.”

What’s wrong with them is stupidity. T hey have got into a habit of expecting their every wish to be thwarted, and obstacles to be hurled in their path by some malign fate. Have they never met with a helping hand that rolled away the stone? They have. Dozens of times, but they had so settled down into the expectancy of trouble that they failed to see anything else. They have counted their disappointments not their gratifications. They have used the magnifying end of the telescope to view the thwarting of their desires, but the diminishing side to view the fulfilment. Even when nothing untoward has marred their progress, they are disappointed at not being frustrated, at having no cause of complaint. All you get from them is a grudging “ It does not often happen to me to find the stone rolled away. What is behind this unusual occurrence? I wonder how it can have happened? Accident, of course, or perhaps to give me the trouble of finding out where the stone can have been put?”

The pious women who went to Our Lord’s tomb early on Holy Saturday morni ng wisely foresaw an obstacle to their plan to get at Our Lord’s Body and embalm- it. They knew of old the sort of heavy slab- used to close up a tomb, and they knew that none of them could roll it away. Theirs was a reasonable anticipation of trouble, not a forecast of one that did not exist. If the expectation of this great obstacle deterred them from carrying out their purpose, what immeasurable graces they would have lost! Mary Magdalen would have lost her precious moments with the Divine Gardener. She would not have seen His lovelit Eyes rest on hers; she would not have heard the tender accents of His “Mary.” She would not have been the one to get His commission to go tell the Brethren that He had risen; she would not have been the first to render a service to the Risen Lord.

It is not good to worry much over the future. The wise person throws himself and his future, with its cares and responsibilities into the Arms of Christ, as did the Little Flower. Much planning for ourselves shows distrust of the loving Saviour. It proves we are still full of the worldly spirit of caution and self-seeking, thatprudence of the serpent” which is so pernicious unless joined with “the simplicity of the dove.” The Holy Women trusted that somehow something would enable them to move the stone -and see their Lord again. Arrived at the Tomb, they find that their trust is not misplaced. God has arranged it all, quietly and well-the stone is rolled away!

Is it not often so with us? We get an inspiration from God to undertake such and such a good work, but the devil of discouragement enters in, accompanied by the devil of human respect, and-we desist. We cannot go to daily Mass or evening devotions for fear our health might suffer, or the house be upset for want of our presence, whereas if we just go, leaving the result to God, we find that the obstacle never arises. We would like to take charge of our dead brother’s or sister’s children, having a rather empty house of our own; but we feel the responsibility would interfere with our leisure and peace, and perhaps prove too much for us. If we could dip into the future, we should probably see that not to have done so would have deprived us of many joys and blessings. And so on.

Many sides of Catholic Action appeal to us, but ou r habit of looking for the immovable “stone” throws us back on ourselves and our timidity or love of ease, and we do nothing. A charge is offered to us, a place in manning the wall or defending the breach, and we fail to accept it because of the difficulties we foresee, or think we foresee. In fact, this excess of foresight is often only another name for cowardice and spinelessness. However, better refuse at the start, than accept and then throw the work over on another, while we contemptibly take our ease. If everyone held back because of anticipated trouble, how would the world’s work fare?

Is not the history of the Church as of the individual -a history of obstacles surmounted? The smooth road does not call for ability and skill; the smooth path does not develop character.

The founders of religious Orders were remarkable for the “stone” after “stone” they removed out of their way The more they met with, the firmer they clenched their teeth, and doggedly pursued their way. In fact they considered obstacles as signs that their work was of God since the Evil One tried so hard to upset it. Very often they threw human prudence to the winds, believing that our ways are not as God’s, and that, when all human aid fails, God steps in.

Unnecessary prudence does not make for union of the soul with Jesus. We rely on ourselves, not on Him, and He loves .to be asked to do things for us, and thereby prove His love, just as a mother loves a child to trust her and lean on her when things get beyond its own power. An independent child-a child who seeks the help of outsiders-is not the most beloved of its father and mother.

Our Lord is very human. He wants our trust. He loves each of us individually, personally. Our petty troubles and anxieties are as interesting to Him as the bigger woes of the world because He is our Father. A pin scratch on a beloved child may for a moment blot out a bad fair, a poor crop, or even a world war from a fond father’s memory.

Prudence and foresight are all very well, but the greater love shows itself in a childlike confidence in God that He will let no hurt come to us unless it is for our good, and then it ceases to be a hurt.

If we were to give to acts of love of God and trust in His Fatherly Providence, the time we spend planning, arranging and re-arranging our poor little life and career, we should find, as did the Holy Women that God had smoothed away all unnecessary roughness from our path, and had already rolled away the “stone.”

HE MUST INCREASE: I DECREASE

GREAT SINNERS are those who put God out of their lives and enthrone themselves. Self is their pivot. God must go because he interferes with the gratification of their passions. Great saints are, therefore, those who reverse the process; they are those who make God their pivot to the complete exclusion of selfish interests. You and I come in somewhere between these two extremes. Where? How near are we to either?

To gain heaven and be with God for all eternity we must be on the road to sanctity, nearer to the great saints than to the great sinners. Great sinners can, and often do-by a miracle of grace-reach heaven, but I have no right to count on that miracle being performed for me. Moreover, if I have any love of God at all, I am not merely trying to be good for my own sake, but for His. I am not merely trying to be on the safe and winning side, but I am seeking to do His Will in all things rather than my own; to see Him increase and myself decrease.

How can I make God increase? In two ways: First, by putting His interests first in my own life, and, secondly, by striving to get others to put His interests first in their lives. How few of us are there who, unfailingly, putGod’s interests first! I don’t do it. Do you? Even saints had to be on their guard to keep self out. Self is a pusher and a climber, absolutely devoid of modesty or shame. He will rush in where angels fear to tread. He is ingenious in burgling the house, of the soul. . Many devices and burglar alarms are necessary to keep him out. The smallest window of the soul left unlatched is detected by this daring intruder. And he very often enters not merely disguised, but disguised as an angel of light. Hence the saints found it a whole-time job to keep him out and to recognise him under each new disguise.

If it was no easy task for the saints, what must it be for you and me who are of ordinary clay, and who, alas! often betray the citadel to the enemy by leaving a door unbolted, or even by throwing open the gates and inviting him in. Do we not even scheme to get him inside as an honoured guest? Have you never given yourself or heard others (avowedly” good” people) give specious and high-sounding reasons for some perfectly selfish action-their health, dignity, duty, position-the Lord knows what, demanded this course of action. Did such people deceive you, much less God? And they must be very dense if they deceived themselves, but self has a very thick skin to protect it, though a child can see through it. If we are throwing pious dust in our own eyes, we shall readily see that self rules our thoughts, words and actions all the day long, or, at best, a good part of the day. Let us hold the mirror up to ourselves and we shall see how complacently we regard the work of our hands or of our brain. Do we not plume ourselves on our necessity in the scheme of things? Do we not try to hold the reins of power as long as ever we can, and, if we cannot do so directly, then we try by indirect means. Do we not scheme and angle for a word flattering to our talent for administration or organisation, building, teaching, housekeeping? How eagerly we snatch at any little molecule of praise, sucking it for hours, turning it round and round in our mouths like a lozenge, endeavouring to extract from it all the sweetness we can, and usually getting a thousand per cent more out of it than the speaker intended.

If the hospital, school or business is praised, we try to monopolize the praise. At least secretly, if not openly, we attribute it all to ourselves, and lay the flattering unction to our souls that we are not as other men, and that our fellowworkers are not at all included in the panegyric. All good happenings in our circle we try to claim as our doing. If a patient recovers, it was due to our assiduous care of him; if a pupil scores in the musical or literary world, it was due to our training, past or present; if a sinner is converted, our prayers worked the miracle, and our Argus-eyed neighbours begin to notice an added importance in our bearing and walk, a more decided upward tilt to the chin, a harder glitter in the eyes. This is not a whit exaggerated. You have seen it. I have seen it. We have only to turn the searchlight on our own depraved heart to see it there. God help us, what fools we are!

Self is a voracious fellow -a very glutton for praise. If no one offers it, he will give it to himself. See how often the words “ I, mine, me” are on the egotist’s lips. All this must cease in our life if we are to be God’s friend and familiar. Instead of thinking of self, planning for self, bolstering up self, should I not rather think of the hundreds of ways God’s wide world needs my cooperation. One who has God’s interests at heart rather than his own will remember that every second sees forty infants die unbaptised to be deprived for all eternity of the sight of God, and that he may prevent this by his prayers for the spread of the Faith and by a word in season to a pious boy or girl-not all of them have their minds fixed on “jobs.” He will realise how many are treading the primrose path to destruction, and will “constrain” Our Lord by his prayers and mortification to save them. God may be waiting only for one glance of love from him to do this. He will see that those under his influence do not defile their minds with filthy books, suggestive films, bad companions.

These are a few of God’s interests of which a fervent soul can speak to the loving Heart of Jesus after Holy Communion, and, in his daily visits to Him. His prayers and good life may help to stem the tide of irreligion of every kind. He can teach those under his care to sweep their glance over the world’s evils as a seagull sweeps over the ocean, and to talk to God in their childish speech about them. What so moves a heart, divine as well as human, as the prayers of a trusting, innocent child? Was not Our Lord, if I may say so without irreverence, as wax in the hands of a child? Did they not sit on His Knees, hold Him with their grubby hands, climb on His Back, clamber all over Him as He sat by the roadside talking to them, and did they not link their fingers in His as He went home through the village? Was He not their own Jesus, their big Brother? He will not now turn a deaf ear to their petitions. God changes not. Oh, how much we deprive God of by not teaching children to pray to Him for the world, to ask Him for conversions, for the spread of the True Faith, in a word to ask Him to give-just what He is aching to give-grace to everyone so that they may be His for all eternity.

Sitit sitiri: He thirsts to be thirsted for. Can you and I not do something to slake that thirst instead of concentrating all our energies on our own puny satisfaction of body and mind? Can we not win souls for Him by humility, seeking the back seat instead of pushing ourselves forward, by closing our lips on the word of self-praise, the uncharitable word, the hurting word, by letting our neighbour claim the success we laboured for, by ignoring the snub and the slight and the coldness, by repaying evil with good, liking those who dislike us, or at least treating them decently, by keeping back the art reply and the stinging word, by repressing a smile at bumptiousness and vulgarity, letting policy and fulsome flattery pass unrebuked and if unseen, by yielding a comfortable or an honorable place to others, and without fussiness.

Can I not, for His sake, diminish my actual needs, instead of increasing them as I advance in life? Surely there are many of the so-called essentials I have heaped around me that I could cut out of my life so that His Kingdom may increase. I can easily begin with my importance in my own eyes. I can begin by thinking little of myself, making little of myself in word and action, by learning even slowly to be glad-yes, glad! like the Little Flower, when others make little of me, as they are sure to do. Humble thinking leads to humble acting. When I have succeeded in convincing myself that I am really nothing and can do nothing, then self will begin to fade out of my life, and I can work in the big wide needs of God for the spread of His Kingdom, making this the one absorbing thought of my mind, and using every spare moment to talk to Him of them. Then Christ will increase in me, and I in Him.

HUMAN REFRIGERATORS

GOD CREATED me with a wonderful capacity for enjoyment and happiness. He has filled the universe with a beauty that threw saints and poets into ecstasies, and He has given me senses, physical and mental, capable of absorbing all that beauty and using it to draw closer to Him the Creator. This happiness is only a foretaste and promise of that awaiting us in Heaven. He means us to be happy on earth while serving Him, and in that very service to find happiness. Who have served Him better than the saints, and who have been happier with a happiness undreamed of by worldlings? If this world is a vale of tears, it is none Of God’s doing. It is our own, our neighbour’s or the devil’s. Fallen human nature is respon- sible for most of the trials of this world.

That God permits sorrows to fall to our lot is not the same thing as to say He wills it. It grieves Him to the Heart to see us wounding each other, but, since He has left us our free will to do right or wrong, He cannot interfere. To know that it pains Him to see us pain each other, we have only to read some of the innumerable sentences of Scripture in which He tries to teach us how tenderly He loves us, or-to use a saint’s word-how madly and crazily He loves us. He tells us: “ He who touches you, touches Me in theapple of My Eye,” “I have loved you with an everlasting love.” “My little children, love one another as I have loved you.” And is not our Redemption convincing proof enough for any doubter. What other allowed himself to go through the agonies of the Passion, ending up with Crucifixion, in order to do good to any human being? What other made himself into our food?

It is a fatalistic sort of philosophy to attribute everything that happens to the “will of God”-sickness and death brought on by violation of the laws of nature, failure and downfall induced by inattention to one’s work or by the lack of the business instinct, and, lastly, the anxiety, misery and hopelessness caused by the sins of others. It is splendid to accept these things patiently and to offer them to God in atonement for our sins, but to say of everything: “It is the will of God,” meaning that “God sent these things and He knows best,” seems rank heresy and an insult to the merciful Providence of our heavenly Father. The truth is that He permitted these evils, and He will turn the evil to our good, clean up the wreck and make it whole if we bear it patiently and for love of Him. God is the healer, man the destroyer. God is the physician, man or man s carelessness the disease. If people do us evil, God can transmute it into good, but the evil-doers will have to render Him a strict account.

Anyone who lessens our happiness and joy in life is doing us a great evil. To blot out the sunshine from a life, wantonly or carelessly, is to injure what is very dear to God. Human wet blankets or moral refrigerators-call them what you will-should be given a bright little isle of their own to inhabit, where their close proximity to each other might have a curative and salutary effect. No one has a right to move about cloaked in a mantle of icy aloofness, freezing all the unfortunates who meet with him. When God created icebergs He placed them far from human habitations. Occasionally they may break loose, pursue their devastating career down the ocean and sink a Titanic. To be sunk by a human iceberg is no whit pleasanter.

We owe each other a debt -that of charity and friendliness. God created us dependent on each other for everything. The cheerful presence and friendly bearing, even without the helping hand, are not among the least of life’s necessities. To meet persons casually who are repellent, and even glowering, darkens the sun a little for the time being, unless one have a strong sense of humour and laugh in one’s beard at the absurd figure such people cut. But to live with such selfish, depressing people is often more than human nature can stand. You meet them at a time of relaxation, expansion, gaiety- they force you to close up like a clam, and they freeze back on your heart the pleasant or joyful words you were going to utter. If you make a joke, it does not meet with their approval, and, looking up suddenly, you catch the steely glint of disapproval in their cold blue eye. You feel you’ve no right to be there or anywhere, and that a halter should be offered you in pity.

This is not by any means advocating that bright, breezy, jolly chattering manner of a stereotyped nature, that often has a worse effect on nerves tired and jangled after a hard day’s work. Nothing is more irritating or even maddening if you want that restful quiet that is balm to hurt minds. Dignity of manner and speech has its uses, but a little of it goes a long way, like mustard. There is no use in hiding the real man behind a cocoon of pompous platitudes and hackneyed sentiments. With these people the cocoon makes the man. . No one with an attractive personality ever allowed himself to be hedged round with the divinity of kings. Soft collars have long since replaced starched ones. The fumes of power can be more deleterious than those of alcohol. Ninety per cent of us like a person to be as God created him-simple, artless, natural, unaffected, unspoiled by the supposed demands of dignity, reputation and office. This naturalness attracts souls, makes them happy, and happiness makes them want to give God of their best.

Who will ever give us a satisfying picture of the beautiful Face of Christ, the charming, attractive manner of Christ as He gathered the little ones around Him, and they swarmed all over Him like bees? How tenderly He looked at them and spoke to them. How lovingly He caressed them. How understandingly He listened to their childish prattle and entered into their little games. Did He act the heavy Father, weighted down with dignity and responsibility-He Who held the whole wide world in the hollow of His Hand?

Again, what a compassionate glance of love and pity He must have given the Magdalen to have won her forever to His Side away from a long life of sin. That one glance was sufficient to cast seven devils out of her. Here was no mighty prophet conveying in a thunderous glance all the outraged dignity of offended majesty. He did not use those wonderful, liquid Eyes of His to strike terror into people, to make them cringe and crumple up before Him. No! The bruised reed lie did not break. The smoking flax He did not quench. Gentle hands are always the accompaniment of gentle eyes; The woman taken in adultery, waiting for the Pharisees (the worse sinners”) stones, looked up into the Master’s Eyes, and, reading what they plainly said, took heart of grace to “go now and sin no more.”

It is this attractive personality of this Man-God that has in all ages drawn to His Sacred Heart countless maidens in the first flush of their girlhood, boys in the lustihood of their young powers-unopened buds of Spring-mature men and women with rank and position and experience of life’s sweets and bitters-all ready to give Him their all in exchange for a glance from those tender Eyes, a smile from those gracious Lips, a place in that unchanging Divine Heart, yesterday, today, and the same for ever.

REPROVING UNDER FEELING

THERE is scarcely anyone who has not one person or more under him to whom at times he has to point out faults of action or speech. Most people can say sometime somewhere: “I also am a man of authority, having under me servants.” The great big round world can be divided roughly into those exercising some authority and those with none. Fortunately the big majority of the latter class are children who take correction, like all things else, for granted, as part of the make-up of this mysterious world.

To reprove effectively needs tact; and the surprising thing is how few possess tact. A person corrects tactfully who makes the subordinate ashamed of what he has said or done, without at the same time making him lose his self-respect. Some apparently believe that correction, to do good, should raise blisters on the soul, humble the delinquent to the dust and leave him grovelling there hopelessly. They never realise that their searing, humiliating speeches not only do no good to the recipient, but rouse his worst passions. It would surprise them intensely to be told that anger and resentment are the feelings they aroused, not a desire to correct the fault and do better in future. This happens especially when they have acted on second-hand information. They may be well-meaning people, but how utterly devoid of the divine gift of tact! They allow their feelings to get the upper-hand of them, and they reprove when swayed by these feelings.

Listening to them one would think that the offence was against themselves, that their personal dignity was outraged, their honour dragged in the mire. Led by feeling, they magnify the fault till it develops horns and a tail, and all the while they, according to their character, either work themselves up into a rage or look on you with cold, icy scorn from the heights of their impeccable sanctity. Who can blame the delinquent for feeling that it is not God’s Voice that speaks, but the voice of self-love-nay, more, the cruel desire to humiliate. There are even persons who take, or seem to take, a positive pleasure in taunting and wounding, even to turning the knife in the wound. Such prove, of course, by their actions that they are totally unfit to have the guidance of others. They cater for self, not for God. It would seem as if they wanted their subordinates to be perfect in word and act so that they themselves might shine, as it were, by reflected light, or as the perfect leader of the band, or the moral cement thatkept the whole fabric together. If it were God’s glory alone that they sought, they would weigh well and consider how much ought to be said and how, and where, and when. To reprove an old man before a young, a man of some standing before lesser fry is to be ignorant of the right place. To reprove a sick man, a depressed man or a sorrowing man, one already carrying a cross heavy enough for his strength, is to be ignorant of the right time.

To make mountains out of molehills, sins out of mere indiscretions or lapses of judgment, to make the delinquent feel that he is a worm, and no man, by using towards him ponderous sentences of vituperation, is merely to harden his heart.

Christ was up against big crimes, base treachery, ingratitude-Judas betrayed Him for the price of an ass-Peter cursed and swore that he knew him not just after having received the gift of His Body and Blood-the disciples, all leaving Him, fled-the Jews, whose sick and infirm He had cured, whose dead He had raised to life, jeered and mocked Him on the Cross-and yet He called out to His Eternal Father with His last breath:

“Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.” He made Peter, the renegade, Head of His Church. His big loving Heart could have forgiven even Judas, had he turned to Him for mercy and forgiveness. To the woman taken in adultery He merely said-haying routed her accusers by writing their secret sins on the ground-” Hath no man condemned thee?” and on her replying, “No man, Lord,” He said, with infinite compassion and mercy, “ Neither will I. Go now and sin no more.” And all this, though in every case the sin was a personal insult to Himself.

His Arms are ever open to receive the sinner, even the big sinner who has persistently despised His Commandments and wiped Him completely out of his life. How He must dislike to see His follower who did eat sweet meats with Him humiliated to the dust, and treated with obloquy and vituperation, harshness and scorn. What glory it must give Him if this follower bears the humiliation with peace and content, and without any ill-will towards those who have meted it out to him! What a glorious reward the disciple will receive from His Hand on the day of universal reckoning

NihiI Obstat:

CAROLUS DOYLE, S.J., Censor Theol. Deput

Imprimi Potest:

@ EDUARDUS, Archiep. Dublinen., Hiberniae Primas

DUBLINI: die 17 Martii, 1938.

********

Living The Morning offering

PATHWAY TO WORK-A-DAY SANCTITY

BY REV. JOHN MCASTOCKER, S.J

INDEX

What do we mean by devotion to the Sacred Heart? The word devotion refers, not to mere isolated actions, but to a way of life. As the most fundamental act of religion, devotion means the will to do readily whatever concerns the service of God. Devotion is always wrapped up in other actions. “We say that a man prays devoutly, for example, or hears Mass with devotion.

In the first few centuries, when Christianity was struggling against paganism and the worship of false gods, the Church had to put great emphasis on defining and proclaiming the divinity of Christ, and the union of the two natures in one divine Person. But as centuries rolled on and the true faith became widespread throughout Europe, privileged individuals and certain religious groups were permitted to glimpse more clearly the place that the Heart of the God-man holds in the economy of man’s salvation.

In substance, the Sacred Heart devotion was foreshadowed in the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius and thus the faithful were gradually prepared for the great manifestation, which was to take place almost a century and a half after St. Ignatius” time. Toward the end of the seventeenth century, when a great part of Europe had been torn from the unity of Christ’s Church, and when the withering blight of Jansenism within the Church itself had replaced the love of God in so many Christian souls with “a spirit of fear, Christ appeared to a humble Visitandine nun at Paray-le-Monial, in France. He manifested to her His Sacred Heart, and commissioned her to spread, the devotion throughout the world. Devotion to the Sacred Heart owes its origin to these apparitions, and the marvellous spread of this devotion is due to the Promises made by our Lord in these apparitions in favour of those who practise and spread this devotion.

Devotion to the Sacred Heart comprises three essential elements. Consecration, Reparation, and the Apostolate. It is a way of life motivated by apostolic, reparative love. Its purpose is to develop the supernatural (divine) life of the soul through an ever-deepening love of the God-Man, by reparation for our own past sins and the sins of our fellow men, and by an earnest endeavour to establish Christ’s reign within our own hearts and in the hearts of others.

In devotion to the Sacred Heart we single out for special adoration the Heart of the God-Man, the symbol of His immeasurable love for His Heavenly Father and for us. Through devotion to the Sacred Heart we are drawn to the very Heart of God, for the God-Man is truly the eternal love ofGod made manifest in human form. “The kindness and goodness of God has appeared to all men,” as St. Paul tells us, and the Sacred Heart is the symbol of the God-Man’s love for us. By prayerful consideration of the mortal life of the God-Man we penetrate the interior of Christ and come to know the ideals, purposes, and aims of His Heart. In this way our admiration develops into love, because we come to recognize that the driving power of all His activities was love for us, His sinful human brothers. He came on earth to expiate our sins,, to reconcile us to His Father, and to make it possible for us once more to attain to our supernatural destiny, our eternal happiness with God.

If we have within us a spark of human gratitude we will want to associate ourselves with Christ, to dedicate ourselves unreservedly to His service, to further the one great ambition of His life: the establishment of His kingdom within our own hearts and within the hearts of others. This we can accomplish by consistent devotion to the Sacred Heart. In this devotion the chief aim is the establishment of Christ’s Kingdom in our own hearts and in the hearts of our fellow men. In it the apostolate, or zeal for souls, is closely interwoven with consecration and reparation.

CONSECRATION

Consecration means total dedication to a person, or an, ideal, or a purpose. We say that a man is consecrated to his family when all his thoughts, endeavours, labours, and sacrifices are for its welfare and happiness. A youth is consecrated to his studies when he does not permit any extraneous activities to divert his mind and his energies from his scholastic pursuits. A soldier is consecrated to his leader when he is ready to obey his commander, not only in matters of ordinary discipline but even if his very life is at stake. A man is consecrated to a cause when he willingly undergoes hardships, labours, and even ridicule, in order to promote the cause. A chalice is consecrated, i.e., set aside for one sole use: to hold the Precious Blood. To put it to any other use would .be sacrilegious. Consecration to a person implies much more than mere admiration, much more than empty vocal or external loyalty. We can admire certain qualities in a man, e.g., his gift of leadership, his mental acumen, his military strategy; while at the same time we may condemn and repudiate certain other phases of his character, e.g., his cruelty, his vanity; or his immorality. Consecration to a person derives from the inherent goodness in that person and the knowledge of the favours he has conferred on us. Total consecration to a person embraces not only our whole person but his whole person, and the cause for which he stands. Only one man is totally to be admired; only one man lived and died for a cause which we can wholly accept and make our own without reservation. That one person is Jesus Christ. Hence our consecration to the Sacred Heart must be a total consecration to the God-Man and to His cause. In the case of Christ, our consecration to Him and to His cause wells not from only the admiration we feel for His character and ideals, but from a sense of deep gratitude for the benefits He has heaped upon us, from the realization of the role that Christ Crucified has played in our lives. He has nat only redeemed the human race, but He died for ME. Even after the ingratitude of my personal sins, He has made it possible for me to escape hell. This sense of gratitude develops into a true love of friendship because we, realize that Christ has loved me with a personal, individual love. Consecration to the Sacred Heart must involve on our part a sincere effort for the good of our Friend, a gradual assimilation to His character and ideals; a loyal self-sacrificing effort to promote the cause He has most at heart, the salvation of souls.

Our total consecration to the Sacred Heart necessarily implies a total dedication to Him of our whole person, body and soul. He has an indisputable right to it by a two-fold title. As God, He created me and keeps me in existence. As the God-Man, He redeemed me. Therefore, my consecration to Him must consist not only in an enthusiastic loyalty to Him and to His cause, not only in the form of friendship, but a giving of my whole self to Him, as He gives Himself to me. By the act of consecration I bind myself to Him by a new tie: I am now something sacred, consecrated to Him both body and soul. Therefore; I must use my soul and body for Him and His service alone. Hence, in the following of Christ, I must learn to know the Sacred Heart better day by day. I must learn to appreciate His cause, to realise what one soul means to the Sacred Heart. I must find out, and carry out, what I consider the service He asks of me.

REPARATION

Reparation is the distinguishing character of Devotion to the Sacred Heart, as revealed by Our Lord to St. Margaret Mary, and as approved and practised by the Church today. Reparation stresses not only, that we seek refuge in the wounded Heart of Christ, but especially that we reciprocate His love by making reparation for our own sins and the sins of others. In his apparitions to the sainted Visitandine nun at Paray-le-Monial, Our Blessed Lord stressed the idea of REPARATION. “Behold this heart which has loved men so much, and is so little loved by them.”

He complained of men’s lack of apprecia tion for what He had done for them, and commanded the Saint to perform certain acts of piety and penance in reparation to His Sacred Heart, He asked her, and us through her, to be a victim of reparation for souls.

What is reparation? It is an earnest effort on our part to repair, to make up for, the injury done to the Sacred Heart by our own past sins and indifference, and by the sins of all men. If we have come to know and appreciate a person whom we formerly, ignored, offended, and treated with coldness, then we are not content with trying to make up for our own past offences by a loyal and constant service. As far as we can we try to make up for the offences; indifference, and coldness of others, and to bring others to know and appreciate our friend. This element of reparation is the most compelling motive for generous, wholehearted devotion to the Sacred Heart.

In order that our reparation to the Sacred Heart may be deep-rooted and effective as a motive in our daily lives to strive after sanctity-work-a-day sanctity-it is not sufficient that we have a rather vague idea of the punishments He has meted out in His justice, of the havoc sin has wrought among the human race, or of the penalty the God-Man paid for sin. We must realize that we, by our personal sins, have had part in the whole sad mess; that we, too, have crucified Christ by our sins, that we exposed ourselves to the everlasting torments of hell, and that we owe reparation for our own personal sins. “Do not crucify Christ again by your sins” (Hebr. 6. 6). We must foster a deep sense of shame for our own sins, lest our reparation to the Sacred Heart take on an impersonal tone, and even tend to foster spiritual vanity and smugness.

We know that Christ has risen from the dead and now can suffer no more, that He is infinitely happy in His glorified body, that sins can no longer grieve Him. But we must remember that Christ in His mortal life, especially in His agony, passion and crucifixion, foresaw all our personal sins and infidelities, and that they added to His sorrow and sadness and torture. He saw, too, our contrition for our sins and our expiation and reparation, and these were a solace to Him in His agony. The Sacred Heart now expects of me a very special service and love, intensified by the spirit of reparation for my past sins and infidelities. What an incentive to heroic love and service their past sins proved to all the great penitents of all times: Peter, Mary Magdalene, Ignatius, and all the glorious choirs of penitents, who “will sing the mercies of the Lord forever.”

How can we practise this apostolic spirit of Consecration and Reparation? Principally by prayer and penance.

CONSECRATION AND REPARATION THROUGH APOSTOLIC PRAYER Prayer is the lifting .up of our minds and hearts to God, to adore Him, to thank Him for His benefits, to obtain the remission of our sins, and to gain all the graces we need for salvation. Prayer is absolutely essential for our supernatural well-being. For adults it is necessary for salvation. Through prayer we fulfil the purpose of our creation, the praise of God; we acknowledge with gratitude His great gifts of redemption; and of our heavenly reward with Him for all eternity. Prayer is to the supernatural life what air is to the lungs. Prayer is the wing by which we rise above material things and reach to the eternal. Prayer is principally an act of the superior faculties of man’s soul, the intellect and the will. But as human beings, composed of matter and spirit, we naturally give expression to our interior sentiments by words, i.e., vocal prayer.

The more we develop the life of grace through prayer, the more fit instruments we become in bringing Christ to the souls about us; the more we become Christophers, Christ-bearers, in the truest sense of the word. Yet apostolic prayer, prayer for all the souls for whom Christ died, holds a position of unique importance in God’s Providence for souls and in the carrying out of the Consecration and Reparation of devoted clients of the Sacred Heart.

THE APOSTOLATE THROUGH PRAYER

Through apostolic prayer we can do much to render effective the will of God that “all men be saved and come to the knowledge of the truth.” The Sacred Heart wishes the fruits of His redemption to reach men through their free co-operation and that of their fellow men. He wishes us to serve Him as a society, and through society to reach our eternal salvation. The realization of the tremendous responsibility God had placed on us individually for the salvation of our fellow-men impels us to constant apostolic prayer for the establishment of the kingdom of Christ in the hearts of all men. Our zeal for souls, like Christ’s, must embrace the whole world.

What surprises await us in eternity! We will realize that our successful struggle here below was due, in no small measure to the prayers and penances of some obscure saint unknown to us. We will be gladdened by the gratitude of souls, whom we never knew in this life, whose salvation was furthered in great part by our prayers and penances. We are one Mystical Body of Christ, and member must help member. Apostolic Prayer is the supernatural power plant; sending forth the power of grace. It lends efficacy to the words and works of priests and missionaries, religious and lay-folk, throughout the world.

Innumerable and diverse should be the objects of our apostolic prayers: The Sovereign Pontiff, Christ’s Vicar, who has at heart the interest of the lambs and sheep of Christ’s flock; the pagans that sit in darkness and in the shadow of death; souls separated from the life-giving truth and sacraments of the Church through schism and heresy; the tempted; the sinners; the dying. We should often recite thoughtfully and slowly the Acts of Consecration and Reparation, wherein are enumerated the many interests of the Sacred Heart, towards which we should direct our apostolic prayer.

With the interests of Christ, the Good Shepherd, at stake throughout the world, how can we be satisfied with only a half-hearted effort to sanctify ourselves through apostolic prayer, and bring to fruition the desire of the Good Shepherd that all may belong to His fold! One can readily understand how, through apostolic prayer, we can carry out our consecration to the Sacred Heart and His interests throughout the world. One can easily realize that the effort we make to pray well, the self-denial we must practise in foregoing more pleasurable occupations for prayer, the self-conquest entailed in rising early and giving up some extra sleep in order to enjoy the privilege of assisting at Mass, all these implement and develop our act of reparation.

CONSECRATION AND REPARATION THROUGH PENANCE

The words penance, sacrifice, and self-denial are distasteful words in the twentieth century. But penance is not a monopoly of the ages of faith. It is an essential part of Christianity; it belongs to the whole following of Christ. Listen t o His words: “Unless you do penance, you shall all likewise perish.” “If any man would be my disciple, let him deny himself, and take up his cross daily, and follow me.” We are members of the Mystical Body of Christ, Who was crucified, and it ill becomes the members of such a body to give themselves up to a life of luxury and ease, especially when tens of thousands of our fellow members of the Mystical Body are pining away in loathsome prisons, slowly dying in slave-labour camps, suffering tortures and death for their Crucified Head. Our penance is to carry cheerfully our daily cross, all the little inconveniences and hardships necessary to carry out in the best possible way the duties of our state of life: What innumerable occasions of self-denial present themselves daily to a devoted father of a family, to a loving and hardworking mother, to obedient children, to priests, religious, and lay-folk! We can all practise the self-denial needed to make some mental prayer each day, to say the family rosary, to do some spiritual reading in place of reading trash, to retract a little from the lawful pleasures we allow ourselves: the cinema, smoking and drinking. We must bear in mind Our Lady’s behest at Fatima:-Prayer and Penance.

THE APOSTOLATE THROUGH KINDNESS

All of us, no matter how lowly be our station in life, have an unlimited power for good; for helping souls, for cooperating with the Son of God in saving souls, for making reparation to the Sacred Heart far the sins of men, and that power is kindness in thought, word and action.

If we study the life of Christ we see the constant, unchangeable kindness that the divine Master displayed at all times and in all circumstances, even in those most trying to human endurance. At all times “He went about doing good.”

We cannot pass through life without profoundly influencing for good or evil the lives of our fellowmen. The shadow of St. Peter, as we read in the Acts of the Apostles, brought bodily health to the diseased who could not reach His person. The very presence of the true lover of the Sacred Heart brings cheer, encouragement, and strength to faltering souls daily encountered in this work-a-day world of ours.

Kindness, urbanity, courtesy, from a supernatural motive, practised for the love of the Sacred Heart, must not be confused with the politeness which worldlings practise from selfish or business motives. The kindliness of the follower of Christ springs from a love of Christ Whom one sees and serves in his fellowmen. “As long as you did it to these my least brethren, you did it to Me.” Kindness thus practised is one of the most potent incentives to virtue, a magnet that draws men’s hearts through us to the Sacred Heart.

Kindliness towards all, and at all times without exception, is not an easy virtue to practise. It presupposes self-control and frequently demands self-annihilation. It often entails self-conquest in no small degree; it demands self-forgetfulness and a close rein on our varying moods. Yet kindness is productive of so much good to souls that the earnest client of the Sacred Heart will make every effort to practise it day by day, and all day long. Our kindness must be sincere, sympathetic, and practical. Our almsgiving must be done tactfully and unobtrusively. Cheerfulness must be an ever-present characteristic of our kindness, that cheerfulness that flows from the joy of a good conscience, the joy of living on God’s good earth, and of association with future citizens of heaven, the joy of realizing the privilege we have in making up for our own past sins and coldness, and for the sins of those who have not known the infinitely kind Heart of Jesus.

THE APOSTLESHIP OF PRAYER

Devotion to the Sacred Heart can be easily and effectively practised by membership in the Apostleship of Prayer in union with the Sacred Heart, or as it is frequently called, the League of the Sacred Heart.

This pious association was founded in the Jesuit House of Studies at Vals, France, a .little more than a century ago. The Jesuits Scholastics, preparing for the priesthood and the apostolate in the home and foreign missions, were impatient under the long .and arduous course of studies, and anxious to get into the active apostolate. They seemed to forget at times that their work and studies could be readily turned to apostolic ends. This truth was forcibly brought home to them by their Spiritual Director, Father Francis Gautrelet, S.J., who explained that all their activities of the day could be turned to apostolic purposes and made a means of bringing many souls to God, by offering them all each day in union with the Sacred Heart, and for His intentions. This truth gave new courage and zeal to the students, and the idea soon spread into the neighbouring towns and convents and monasteries. It spread all over France, into other parts of Europe, and into the foreign mission fields. Pope Plus IX granted the association many indulgences, and its statutes were confirmed in 1866. Successive Pontiffs have exhorted all the faithful to join it.

Conditions of membership are easy of fulfillment. The prospective member must have his name entered in the register of the Local Centre where he lives, or where he wishes to join, and promise to say the Morning Offering every day. This is the First, and most essential practice. It is the little way of doing big things for the glory of God and the salvation of souls. The Second Practice is Mass and Communion of Reparation for the coldness, indifference and insults of so many towards the Blessed Sacrament. The Third Practice is devotion to Mary Immaculate, especially by the recital of the Rosary, or, at least, one decade, daily.

We will confine ourselves to the prayerful consideration of the First Practice, the Morning Offering, as this practice is within the reach and capacity of all. Moreover, the one who is imbued with the spirit of the Morning Offering will be quick to avail himself of the spiritual advantages of the other two practices.

THE MORNING OFFERING

Solid devotion to the Sacred Heart is an all-day affair. It is not confined to certain times and set occasions. We cannot segregate our ordinary work-a-daylives and our spiritual endeavours. Man’s whole nature, soul and body, is elevated through sanctifying grace. The supernatural life, the life of grace, must be integrated with all our daily activities. A great part of our day is given to material pursuits. We have our work to do. The father must labour for his wife and children; the mother must busy herself with the affairs of the household; the children must study and develop themselves mentally and physically. We must sanctify ourselves and help to save others in the hum-drum activities of our workaday lives. Happily, there is a way to give to the Sacred Heart total consecration and reparation, to practise constant zeal for souls, to make each moment count for eternity; to carry out Christ’s command, “Pray always and do not faint,” and St. Paul’s admonition, “Whether you eat or drink, or whatsoever also you do, do it all for the glory of God.” This way is the Morning Offering devoutly made and consistently carried out. This is the First Practice of the Apostleship, of Prayer, in union with the Sacred Heart.

The Morning Offering properly understood is a practical way, for those who have made a retreat, of living in the spirit of the Exercises of St. Ignatius.

THE, MORNING OFFERING

“O, Jesus, through the Immaculate Heart of Mary, I offer Thee all my prayers, works and sufferings of this day, for all the intentions of Thy Sacred Heart, in union with the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass throughout the world, in reparation for my sins; for the intentions of all our associates, and in particular for the intentions recommended by Our Holy Father, the. Pope, for this month.”

The Morning Offering consistently lived throughout the day gives eternal value to every thought, word, and action. Sincerely made and carried out, the Morning Offering is the Midas touch that turns everything, even our most insignificant activities, into gold; gold that passes current in heaven and that can effect the release of human souls from the bondage of sin and infidelity; gold, that can, as it were, bribe the willing Heart of Christ to shower extraordinary graces on souls that otherwise would have been lost.

The Morning Offering opens up wide vistas of apostolic endeavour. It furnishes us a compelling motive to give the best that is in us, no matter what task we maybe engaged in, for we are doing ix all for Christ and for souls. It makes our day an uninterrupted and efficacious prayer.

O JESUS, I OFFER THEE ALL MY PRAYERS AND WORKS

We begin our Morning Offering by addressing Jesus, Our Saviour, Our Leader, Our Model. At once there wells up in our hearts a sentiment of gratitude for all Jesus did for us out of purest love. “While we were yet sinners, God loved us.” “He loved me and delivered Himself for me.”

The name of Jesus suggests the most magnetic character that ever walked the earth. And He is my leader, my captain, my king. I am His by a two-fold title, Creation and Redemption. I want to stay close to Him, to share His sufferings, so that His victory may be mine for all eternity. We begin our Morning Offering in a spirit of gratitude and generous devotion: “Master, go on, and I will follow Thee, to my last gasp, with love and loyalty.”

All my prayers and works: by these words we make a total offering of all that we are and all that we do. The fact that we have offered the whole day to the Sacred Heart means that we will try to make our day a full one, without any waste of precious time. We do not want to short-change Christ. The present moment is all that we can call our own. Therefore we must make use of it to the best possible advantage, and make it count for souls.

Since we make an offering of all our prayers of the day to the Sacred Heart, and since what we offer Him must be the best within our giving; it is clear that we must pray well, to the best of our ability. If we are accustomed to make some mental prayer, and we all should meditate daily, we should prepare for it carefully and bend all the powers of our mind to make it well. As we walk along the street, or ride a bus going and coming from work or school, we can meditate or make ejaculatory prayers. By them we satisfy for the temporal punishment due for our sins, as well as relieving the suffering souls in Purgatory.

Works: If I am working for the Sacred Heart, then I must give the best that is in me to the duty of the moment, no matter how insignificant it may seem. What a different colouring the Morning Offering gives to all the little, obscure duties of our work-a-day lives! Each little duty, each exertion, takes on an eternal importance; How glorious the toil of the working man in the shop, or office, or field, when done for the Sacred Heart. And how important for Christ and for souls the ceaseless chores of a good housewife, washing dishes, cooking and making beds. The Morning Offering enables us to live lives, day after day, motivated by apostolic, reparative love.

ALL MY SUFFERINGS OF THIS DAY

Through living the Morning Offering we enhance our ordinary prayers and make our every action an acceptable prayer to the Sacred Heart. We likewise exercise a wide-spread apostolate by offering up to the Sacred Heart the sufferings of each day. These sufferings, when united with the sufferings of the Sacred Heart, are an inestimable means of reparation: They draw down upon us, and those on whose behalf we offer our sufferings, priceless graces which may mean the salvation of innumerable souls.

Sufferings of one kind or another are the inescapable lot of the banished children of Eve and are the inseparable companion of man in his fallen human nature. There is no man without his cross, be it sufferings of body or of mind, reversal of fortune, inconstancy of friends, treachery of enemies, unexpected separation from loved ones, the fear of real or imaginary disaster. And yet, suffering must be a most efficacious means of sanctification. Else why did Christ lead a life of poverty and deprivation, later enduring the unparalleled sufferings and ignominy of His passion and death on the cross? And why else did He sum up our following of ,Him in these few unforgettable words: “If any man will come after Me, let him take up his cross daily and follow Me?”

There is something divinely refining about suffering. God’s friends have all realized the value of pain, be it bodi ly or mental. In the crucible of suffering the dross of worldly attachments is burned away, and our souls are gradually enabled to cleave to God alone, the one supreme good. The saints saw in suffering a means of becoming more like their Divine Model, the Crucified Christ. Suffering not only refines our character and makes it Christ-like; it gives us a ready sympathy towards our suffering human brothers, and draws men to us with the cords of deepest love. Having experienced hardship, we learn to help others. As the poet-priest, Father Abram Ryan, has so beautifully written:

“It is truth beyond our ken

And yet a truth that all may read,

It is with roses as with men,

The sweetest hearts are those that bleed,

The Flower that in Bethlehem bloomed,

Out of a heart all full of grace,

Gave never forth its full perfume,

Until the Cross became its vase.’

The daily cross varies indefinitely with each person. It may be a body wasted with sickness and racked with pain or it may be any of the ills that flesh is heir to. It may be the depressing sense of failure in reaching some desired goal; it may be the disdain and contempt of those whose esteem and good-will we sought. It may be neglect and forgetfulness on the part of someone we love. But every cross, when borne for love of the Sacred Heart, can be an effective means of reparation for our own past sins and indifference, and for the sins of mankind.

We must all become saints, work-a-day saints, in the state of life in which we live. Like the saints, we must cheerfully carry out our daily cross. Our favourite saints and patrons, whoever they may be, carried their crosses with joy, and seized every opportunity of showing their love for God by patience and joy in the sufferings God permitted them. By living the Morning Offering we, too, can make our daily sufferings a precious means of proving our love for the Sacred Heart, and of making effective reparation for our own past sins and the world’s forgetfulness of the loving Christ.

THROUGH THE IMMACULATE HEART OF MARY

How apt and becoming it is that we make our Morning Offering through the Immaculate Heart of Mary! She is not only the first Adorer-Reparatrix of the Sacred Heart, she is our Mother, and Queen of all Saints.

If we wish to become work-a-day Saints, through consistently living the Morning Offering, we have a perfect example in the Immaculate Heart of Mary. The simplicity and obscurity that characterized her infancy and childhood were not in the least overshadowed by the immense dignity of Divine Motherhood. She always remained the handmaid of the Lord, to whom the Lord did great things. In that role she gave the world Christ.

In offering to the Sacred Heart our whole day through the Immaculate Heart of Mary, we have before our eyes the surest way of approaching Christ, and becoming like Him. For the millions of devoted clients of the Sacred Heart throughout the world, sanctity consists in performing extraordinarily well the ordinary duties of our humdrum, work-a-day lives out of apostolic, reparative love of the Sacred Heart. The Immaculate Heart of Mary is the most perfect example of such a life.

No human heart ever approached nearer the Sacred Heart of Jesus, nor more intimately shared His ideals and motives. Yet it was through the performance of her duties as spouse of Joseph and mother of Christ that she proved her immense love of the Heart of the God-Man, and identified herself evermore closely with Him. What an eternal importance the example of the Immaculate Heart of Mary gives to the seemingly insignificant work in the home, the school, the office, the shop, the farm! We all feel that we can imitate, in our own small way, the humble and obscure life of our Mother Mary. We all know that our thoughts, works and sufferings of each day, when offered through the Immaculate Heart of Mary, take on new value in the eyes of the Sacred Heart, for He sees in them that most perfect act of reparative love, the life of His Blessed Mother, in Bethlehem, in Nazareth, and on Calvary’s heights.

FOR ALL THE INTENTIONS OF THY SACRED HEART

If we wish to know the Heart of Jesus we must try to fathom in some small way the well-spring from which flowed all the activities of His hidden life, His public life, His passion, His risen life. Zeal for the glory of His heavenly Father was the fountain-head of all His activities. This zeal was inextricably bound up with the salvation of souls. He achieved this glory by dedicating His whole life to wiping out the handwriting that was written against us.

In all His activities, from the Incarnation to His death on the cross, the human soul was the one object of His every prayer and work and suffering. He realized that, in the eyes of His Eternal Father, the human soul is of infinite worth, more valuable by far than all visible creation. Therefore, He was willing to pay an infinite price to give souls back to His Father. He realized the heinousness of sin and its enormity in the eyes of His Father. He was ready to pay the death-penalty to satisfy His Father’s offended justice and sanctity. He loved souls to the end, and gave His life for them. “Greater love than this no man hath.”

It was His knowledge of the loss of souls more than of His approaching physical sufferings that wrung from Him the cry: “My soul is sorrowful even unto death.” The intentions of the Sacred Heart can, therefore, be reduced to the Salvation of immortal souls in all its phases.

Christ’s zeal for souls sprang from His perfect knowledge of the infinite value His Heavenly Father puts on even one human soul, of the incapability of man, by his own power, to regain God’s friendship, because of the infinite malice of sin, and of the infinite love of His Father for souls, Who did not hesitate to give His Beloved Son as our ransom. “God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son.” The God-Man’s life on earth from the moment of His Incarnation to His death on the Cross was one unbroken act of reparation to the offended Majesty of God, for our sins and the sins of the world. Not content with remaining with us as our abiding friend in the Holy Eucharist and with nourishing our supernatural life with His very Self in Holy Communion, He wished to be our un-ending sacrifice in Holy Mass, to offer Himself, as once on Calvary, on all the altars of the world. The more we learn to know the value of the Mass, the more will we appreciate the privilege accorded us of partaking so intimately in its glorious purposes, through offering our day in union with the Holy Sacrifice everywhere. Gradually we will be discontented with merely offering our daily prayers and works and sufferings in union with the Mass. We will make that union more intimate by assisting when we can at daily Mass, and occasionally, at least, during the day, of recurring in prayerful, momentary though to the Sacred Heart, offering Himself again in Holy Mass, in some remote corner of the world.

IN REPARATION FOR MY SINS

We are impelled to love the Sacred Heart because, in spite of our sins and coldness, He has loved us with an infinite love, and has delivered Himself up to atone for our sins and for the sins of the world. Because we love the Heart of Jesus, burning with love for us, we wish to prove our love of Him by making reparation for our past sins and coldness, and for the sins of mankind. This reparation we can achieve in a very effective way by living the Morning Offering.

Effective reparation presupposes a growing knowledge of the loveableness and dignity of the person offended, together with a lively realization of the sins we and others have committed against this most loveable Person, and an abiding sorrow for them. “My sin is always before me.” What a powerful incentive to make the best possible use of each passing moment! What an effective antidote against spiritual, sloth and indifference! Through this spirit of reparation we identify ourselves in a very special way with the Divine Heart, Whose mission on earth was primarily one of reparation, to make amends to God for the sins of mankind. Sincere friends are not content with empty words of sympathy when sorrow and bereavement come upon those they love; they wish to help, to do all in their power to alleviate the burden of sorrow. The human heart is never so profoundly touched nor never so capable of placing the foundations of everlasting gratitude as when a friend comes to its aid in time of sorrow and bereavement, standing loyally by and sharing the burden of loneliness and grief. Clients of the Sacred Heart prove themselves just such friends when in a spirit of reparation, they seek to console the Sacred Heart in the most practical way for the sorrow caused by the sins and neglect of men. They are further moved to offer reparation by the thought that they, too, in times past have added to the grief of the Sacred Heart by their coldness and indifference.

How acceptable, therefore, does each act of the day become in the eyes of the Sacred Heart, when we wrap it round about in this sentiment of reparation!

THE IMMACULATE HEART OF MARY

The same motives that compel us to honour, love and make reparation to the Sacred Heart of Jesus should incite us to honour, love, and make reparation to the Immaculate Heart of Mary, Her Heart is the most perfect of all purely human hearts, the seat of their surpassing virtues, the most loving Heart of our most loving Mother who loves souls with indescribable intensity. We are truly her children for she has given us supernatural life by the sacrifice of her Son-her sacrifice, too. She is the channel through which this supernatural life comes into our souls. She is grieved by the indifference and sins of men against the Heart of her Son, especially in the Sacrament of His Love. Therefore, we must not only love the Immaculate Heart of our Mother and return the affection and love she has for us, we must console her and make reparation for the forgetfulness and insults against her most pure heart. By our prayers, works, and sufferings we must endeavour to keep the souls of her other children from danger and perdition.

If we wish to have solid and practical devotion to the Immaculate Heart, we must learn to know that Heart, its virtues, its sentiments, and its whole interior life. That knowledge can only come by prayer. Ask the Sacred Heart, to learn to know the Immaculate Heart of His Mother. Read and, meditate on the glorious prerogatives of that Immaculate Heart. When we have come to know Mary’s Heart interiorly, we will love it with an enthusiastic love which will bring us to dedicate ourselves without reserve to her Heart. We will endeavour to imitate her especially in her love of the Heart of Her Divine Son, and of the souls for whom He suffered and died. The effect of this love for her will manifest itself in consecration to her service, in reparation for the offences and coldness of men towards Her Heart, and in Apostolic zeal for souls. These three elements are essential for Devotion to the Sacred Heart. We must carry them over, also, in our devotion to the Immaculate Heart of Mary.

Nihil Obstat,

GULIELMUS DARGAN, S.J.,

Censor Theol. Deput. Imprimi Potest,

@ JOANNES CAROLUS,

Archiep. Dublinen,

Hiberniae Prirnas. DUBLINI, die 20 Februarii, 1954. ********

Loneliness

BY ARMAND GEORGES

INDEX

It is the glory of the Church that, throughout her history, she has cared for men and women in their need. St Paul refers to the giving of alms to the poor on several occasions. The Church was the first body ever to nurse and treat the sick without making a charge for doing so. For hundreds of years, the beggars and the needy came to the monasteries, knowing they would not be turned away empty-handed.

The Church, in fact, has always given practical help, as well as sympathy and affection, to men and women according to their need. It is the Church, indeed, which has aroused the consciences of men to their duty towards one another, and especially to the old and the weak, the widow and the fatherless, those distressed in any way in body, mind or spirit.

It is because of the teaching of the Church that the State was persuaded to make provision for people in need. Men more and more realized that they were brothers, and so they pressed for measures which took care of the old, the sick in body and mind, children who were without parents, those who were unable to work because of some physical handicap or because there was no work for them.

Because the State has done so much during the last twenty-five years, there has grown up a feeling that there is now little for anyone else to do. This view is false, as there are many needs which the State cannot meet. It might make provision for the physical needs of every man, woman and child in the country, but there are other needs which no State will ever be able to meet.

In fact, there is in Britain a very large body of people who are in great need. The State might do something to protect and help them, but it can never meet their underlying and greatest need. I am referring, of course, to the lonely.

It will shock many people to learn that in Britain, at this moment, several million people are lonely. We hear a great deal about the evils of overcrowding, and they are serious indeed. But there are serious evils arising from isolation and loneliness. Indeed, so burdensome becomes loneliness for some people that they take their own lives. In fact, of all those who commit suicide annually, no less than one-fifth are those who live by themselves.

Lonely people tend to suffer from nervous troubles. They become depressed and even despairing. They also tend to become suspicious and hostile towards society. They feel that they have been neglected and ignored. What is worse, they often feel that they are of no value to anyone. They develop such an ingrained feeling of inferiority, it is difficult indeed to persuade them that they are of real worth in themselves. And it is this feeling of inferiority which can make helping these people such a delicate and difficult task. The really hard thing to do is to persuade them that they have value in themselves.

Of the several million people who live alone in Britain, not all are the victims of loneliness. But it is my experience, after ten years devoted to the study of this problem, that something like half of them are. And this is a formidable total, and truly appalling when it is assessed in terms of human misery.

THE ROOT CAUSE

The truth is that most lonely people feel that something has isolated them from society. This may be something that has happened to them, or it may be something they have done themselves. But one thing can be said with absolute certainty : the majority of lonely people can trace their plight to some failure in home and family life.

This is the case of Jim, who lives in a West Riding town. He was born to an unmarried mother, and his mother never married. She was persuaded to trust a man before she had married him, and she paid dearly for that mistake. Unhappily, her son is paying and seems destined to pay far more.

At the age of thirty-eight, he has lost his mother and his only relatives are an aunt and a couple of cousins. He has a quite adequate income and lives in a pleasant house in a good neighbourhood. He is, in fact, a good companion- when he is forced to be. Unfortunately, he has never shown any desire to marry, and he shows little inclination to make friends.

Like thousands of others, he feels that he is inferior, and, in this case, he feels inferior because he was an illegitimate child. Although he is not yet forty years old, he is neglecting himself. He does not take the trouble to dress up and go out at evenings or week-ends. He has no interest in any social organization of any kind. The efforts of those who wish to reach him, because they realize his position, are rendered useless by his failure to respond.

He is invited to several places, but, although he says he will accept the invitations, he invariably fails to do so. He does not take an interest in anything except his work, and there is every reason to fear that he will take ever less interest in himself. He wears shirts that are threadbare and holey. He fails to shave and to clean his teeth. He does no more in the house than is essential.

This is a case, in fact, of a man seeking refuge in isolation. Because of his illegitimacy, he feels that he is inferior to those around him. He cannot be happy with them. He cannot persuade himself that anyone can want him for his own sake. Gradually, people will lose interest because their attempts to reach him fail. Jim’s future, in fact, promises to be very bleak indeed. Ahead looms a lonely middle and old age, when he will be offensive because of self-neglect.

Jim is a victim of illegitimacy.

Mary, who lives in Lancashire and works in a mill there, always wished to marry. Nobody ever found her attractive enough to approach her. As long as her parents were alive, she was not alone. But both died when she was in her late twenties. She has a sister and a brother, both of whom are married. They would gladly have her visit them regularly, once or twice a week.

Mary, however, feels, just as Jim feels, that nobody, not even her own sister and brother, want her for her own sake. They would tolerate her, she feels, because they happen to be her relatives. But that is not what she is wanting. She has longed-for years now-for someone who would find her worth while in herself. Efforts to persuade her that she is good and valuable company have failed. For Mary, who is more and more turning away from relatives and those who would be her friends, and who is more and more limiting her life to herself, the future is far from promising.

LONELINESS AMONG THE YOUNG

Loneliness is not limited to any age. There are children who are desperately lonely. They are usually the victims of broken homes or of marriages that fail. The lonely child has one sure means of salvation-that of someone giving him affection. This is the one bridge by which he can be safely linked with society. This means more to a child than the best education. If this essential affection is denied to him, there is a serious danger that he will turn against society. The lonely child is the one most likely to become a criminal. Feeling rejected by society, he turns against it.

Young people often feel that their parents do not care about them and do not understand them. In homes where there is no affection between husband and wife, teenagers may feel that the atmosphere is hostile. Often parents do not appreciate the aims and ambitions, the hopes and longings, of their children.

Alan is typical of many thousands of others. He was brought up in a village in Lincolnshire. When he left school at the age of fifteen, he went to work in a Co-operative store. He found the work uncongenial. He felt that there were no opportunities for the kind of improvement he longed for. When he told his parents about this, they showed but little interest. In fact, throughout his life, although they had never been unkind to him, they had shown in him nothing like the interest he needed and should have had.

At eighteen, convinced that his native village could never provide the things he needed, Alan left home and went to London. There, he found a bed-sitting-room. He also found a job. But the job was no better than the one he had left in his Lincolnshire village. It was labouring in a warehouse. He was surprised to discover that London can be much lonelier than any Lincolnshire village. Nobody showed the least interest in him. Those he worked with had their own pursuits and friends and they showed no wish to take Alan into their circle.

When somebody did eventually take notice of him, it was to introduce him to a set which was anxious to sell him purple hearts and to introduce him to drugs which, had he started taking them, would almost certainly have ruined him physically and morally. It was lucky for him that a Catholic priest was aware of the activities of this body and intervened at the right moment. Alan was prevented, almost at the last moment, from taking a course that would have meant his utter ruin. Today, he is a member of the Catholic Church, for the priest took pains to bring him into the fellowship of the Church. But Alan might not have been so responsive to that priest had he not been shocked by the realization that he had, indeed, come perilously near to contracting a habit which few can break, not even when helped by modern science and medicine.

The young woman who finds her home life so unsatisfactory that she decides to seek romance and more interesting work in London or one of the major cities, all too often finds herself quite cut off from any significant human contact. And she lacks the freedom to seek out friends which is enjoyed by a young man. He can visit clubs and public houses and maybe make friends there. But a young woman doing this is likely to find herself in embarrassing and most unwelcome situations.

My experience has served to convince me that in London, in particular, and also in our large cities, there are many thousands of men and women between the ages of eighteen and twenty-five who are without any satisfying human relationship with society. They are isolated, and they are in danger of becoming ever more lonely and ever less capable of making the effort to form associations which would enrich their lives and give them something to live for. I am equally certain that the vast majority of these people would not be in their present plight had their home lives been what they might and ought to have been.

THE MIDDLE-AGED AND THE OLD

Higher in the age scale, and more poignant, are the middle-aged and old who are lonely. In large numbers amongst the middle-aged are widows and spinsters. A special word should be said about the spinsters. Some of them have the anguish of knowing that they never appealed strongly enough for anyone to wish to marry them. But many are paying the price for making considerable sacrifices for their parents. Take the case of Miss Meredith. She was an only daughter. When she was in her early twenties she was expecting to marry. But her mother was struck down by disseminated sclerosis. This is a form of paralysis which can affect every part of the body, including sight and hearing, and there is no cure for it.

Miss Meredith, who had a great affection for her parents, did not hesitate to break her engagement and devote herself to her mother. For sixteen years she nursed her mother and looked after her father and the home. Then her mother died. By this time, Miss Meredith was thirty-eight, and hopes of marriage were small. But her father broke down, no doubt because of the burden of having a sick wife for so many years. He was found to have angina. For Miss Meredith there followed almost six more years in which she cared for her father.

She was forty-four when her father died. A woman of a most unselfish nature, excellent in the home and a lover of children, she would have made a first-rate housewife. But it was too late. What is worse, her concentration on her parents and the home had caused her to lose contact with former friends and acquaintances. She was very much on her own.

Miss Meredith came to my notice during my investigation of loneliness in Britain. She was not a Catholic, but I brought her case to the notice of a Catholic priest. Because of his position, he was able to visit her frequently, and he managed to persuade her that she was a woman of considerable worth whom the Church would welcome. Today, she is fully occupied with work for the Church. But had I not found her and informed that Catholic priest of her need, she would almost certainly be living in great loneliness and in a state of almost unbearable unhappiness.

There are many spinsters who are alone because they sacrificed themselves for their parents or, in some cases, for a sister or brother. There are many who would have been married had it not been that the war or an accident robbed them of the one whom they meant to marry. But all are in danger of being isolated and of feeling that life has passed them by. And it is this feeling that is so dangerous. This sense of being of no worth or interest is the cause of so many living with the conviction that nobody cares for them because they are not worth caring about. When this state of heart and mind has been reached, helping these people presents considerable problems.

The most moving and by far the most numerous cases of loneliness are to be found amongst old people. The causes of loneliness here are legion. They may be traced right back to childhood. Generally, they are lonely, those who are sixtyfive and over, because they have lost their life’s partner. Often they are so much alone because they have never been married and all relatives have either died or long since forgotten they existed.

Illness, which may include a partial failure of sight or hearing, but which is not of the kind calling for hospitalization, results in quite a number of cases of loneliness.

BREAKDOWN OF FAMILY LIFE

What must be emphasized is that it is a failure or a breakdown of family life which explains almost all the cases of loneliness. The breakdown may be due to the death of a husband or wife. But the failure may be that of divorce, separation, a too feeble attempt to make the marriage a success, an insufficient effort to understand children.

At a time when many so-called experts in human relationships are challenging marriage and describing it all too often as an inadequate human institution which should be discarded, it cannot be too strongly stressed that the failure to preserve a marriage may well lead to a lifetime of isolation and distress. The surest way to increase the incidence of loneliness is to increase the number of divorces and separations of husbands and wives. That is sure to result in one partner being lonely, and it all too often leads to loneliness for a child or young person.

It must also be further stated that the growth of illegitimacy is bound to result in an increase in the number of lonely people. The child who lacks a father may not be adversely affected by the knowledge that he or she is illegitimate. But I know of several cases, even in these so-called broad-minded days, where the knowledge of illegitimacy has caused a feeling of inferiority.

In other words, the Church must proclaim with greater emphasis than ever before that marriage is not only sacred and a divine institution, but that it is the strongest safeguard against countless serious human ills. As long as the family remains an integrated unit, every member of it has a centre of safety and vital links with society. The moment a marriage disintegrates, its members become separated units, in danger of loneliness and all the evils that may flow from their isolation.

Our major task, however, is that of dealing with the lonely we have in our midst now. Their number, I estimate, is several million people. Of these, something like 2 million are old people, and of the total, about three-quarters are women.

The State has done little for the lonely. It has done much for the old and this means that many lonely people have been helped in their loneliness. But this has been accidental, as it were. It has been the result of a lonely person becoming ill and so being removed to an old people’s hospital for treatment. Or it has been the result of an old person reaching a stage of incapacity, due simply to age itself, or to the failure of a vital faculty like sight, when the authorities have been compelled to remove that person to a home for the aged. When such things happen, an old person no longer lives alone. But they may have so lost the desire for company that they take no interest in those about them.

THE CHALLENGE

The lonely present very special problems. To find them is the first difficulty. Those wishing to help the sick or blind, orphans or old people, can readily find them in hospitals, homes and other institutions. But the lonely are not to be found at any centre. They are spread throughout the large towns and cities. They have to be sought.

Finding them, however, is not as difficult as may appear at first sight. An excellent source of information on the whereabouts of lonely people in any area is the District Nurse. These nurses are certain to know where old and lonely folk are to be found, as they will be visiting them regularly and, in some cases, frequently. These nurses, incidentally, often do a great deal for the old and lonely that is far in excess of what is required of them in the course of their duties.

Another way of finding out where lonely people are to be located is to consult the electoral register. This is certain to prove most informative, and it is almost certain to astonish by disclosing what a large number of people live alone in a parish or a ward. For instance, when I began my investigations into the causes and extent of loneliness, I went through the electoral register of a village that had just over 2,000 adults in its population. Of these, the register revealed, no less than 138 lived alone.

But in the cities and large towns the number is likely to be much higher. In fact, my investigations strongly suggest that the average number is from 75 to 85 to the 1,000 in many areas.

Of course, not all the people who live alone are lonely. Many are thoroughly integrated into society, having associates and associations that have been theirs for many years. Even so, as every priest and doctor knows, of those who live alone, at least half are very isolated. Apart from official visits from doctors, nurses, meter readers and tradesmen, they have no callers.

This is a challenge to the Church. Because loneliness is less obvious than such human ills as sickness and blindness and hunger, it is all too often overlooked. But it ranks as one of the major evils in our society. We have already seen that it can be a killer-a killer of the heart and the emotions and, in extreme cases, of the body itself. And I have thousands of letters which testify to the suffering it causes. Here are extracts from a few.

From a middleaged widow in Coventry: ‘I feel so desperate. I had no skill in my fingers when my husband died, and we had the misfortune to have no children. I am doing uninteresting work as a canteen assistant. But that would not matter if only someone were interested in me. I am sure a friendwould make all the difference to my life.’

The following was contained in a letter from a woman of about sixty who lives in Battersea: ‘Your letter was the best thing that has happened to me for a long time. To think that you would take the trouble to sit down and write to someone you don’t really know and to show such interest! I feel I might have been wrong about life for the four years since my husband died. Perhaps people do care, after all.’

This one, from an old-age pensioner in Leytonstone, echoes the sentiment I have found in so many others: ‘I am writing to thank you for visiting me on Wednesday afternoon last week. You came at a time when I was so down I could not have told anyone how badly I felt. Do you know, I have thought many times lately of ending my life? Being alone here, week after week and month after month, was becoming more than I could stand. That you and your wife should show such interest has made me feel that things might well become better for me.’

A letter, a visit lasting only half an hour, can make all the difference to a lonely person. But it would be wrong to assume from this that all anyone needs to do is acquire a list of lonely people and then call on them, and that all will then be well.

VISITING THE LONELY

Visiting the lonely calls for a special kind of understanding. It does not require the power to converse brilliantly, nor any great scholarship. But it does require a knowledge of the persons being visited. For many people who have been lonely for a long time, and only for a few months in some cases, will not show any obvious welcome for a stranger. Such people are likely to be suspicious and sour, self-centred and far from bright company.

I have visited several old women who have lived alone for a long time, and my reception was far from cordial. Some were morose and were reluctant to talk. Others were very pessimistic and could foresee nothing happening that would brighten their lives. Some were full of complaints about the way life had treated them. Others talked- sometimes in most unwelcome detail-about their illnesses and ailments.

All these attitudes are reactions to being alone too much and having far too much time to think about themselves. Inevitably, people in isolation think more and more of their own fate and they feel that it is unhappy and unjust.

Visitors to hospitals know that they are likely to see sights which are not pleasant. Visitors to the old and lonely are likely to find that they hear things and see attitudes that are far from pleasing. But such visiting is on the same level as that of a doctor. The visitor to the lonely does not take pills and medicines as a doctor does for the sick. But he takes the means of healing and restoration.

What are these? They are new contacts for the isolated. They are cheerful and hopeful conversation, a genuine desire to help and the determination not to be discouraged by initial reactions which are unpromising.

Before paying a visit to a stranger, it is wise to learn something about the attitude of the person to be visited. The District Nurse will know whether a lonely person is bitter or resentful, full of self-pity, or is reasonably cheerful. She will also be able to supply background information that will make it easier for the visitor to make contact and to converse readily from the moment of meeting.

Visiting is not the work of one person. It is better done by two people. When the person to be visited is a woman, two women should make the call. With a man, a married couple are likely to prove most effective. The great need and aim must be to make the lonely person feel that action is being taken solely for his or her sake. There must be no suggestion of patronage; no hint that the hope is of persuading the lonely one that he or she would be wise to join the Church, for instance.

There is no need to go armed with gifts, although a bunch of flowers is always a most gracious form of gift, if there is a reluctance to go empty-handed. But the aim is to make the lonely person feel that he or she is regarded as being of considerable worth. And the visitor who succeeds in persuading a lonely person of this has done something that is truly great and infinitely worth while. For the lonely ones are usually cursed by a sense of worthlessness.

This is almost always the result for someone in a broken family or marriage. If this results in loneliness, then the sense of being of no account develops and it steadily deepens. The cure is to induce a sense of personal value. If this is achieved, then everything else will follow.

The members of the Catholic Church might well consider establishing what might be called Visiting Teams. There can be no doubt that they would meet a great need in present-day society. It would be their duty-and joy-to seek out lonely people in their area-the lonely ones being of all ages.

Having found these people, they would then learn enough about them to know what to expect on their first visit. . This would prevent a false approach being made. It would also guard against visitors expecting too much and being disappointed by a none too friendly reception.

One thing the visitors can be sure of; provided the lonely person is not suffering from melancholia or some other condition calling for specialized treatment, their visits will be welcomed. Indeed, my experience shows me that there is such gratitude for visiting that it can rarely find anything like adequate expression.

I spent less than an hour with an old man who was confined to his room because of rheumatism. He wrote to me two days later: ‘Do, do come again. The fact that you have been here has made me feel as if I had escaped from prison.’

An old lady whom I visited and promised to visit again, wrote to me: ‘Whatever you do, please, please, please don’t break your promise about coming again.

You were the first person to talk to me who didn’t have to for months. I felt uplifted-blessed. I have been thanking God for you ever since.’

Anyone who visits lonely people will find letters like the above reaching him every day. For loneliness requires great fortitude if it is not to prove demoralizing, and this is particularly true when the lonely are old or disabled. A spinster of seventyseven said to me: ‘Nobody comes except you. I feel sometimes as though I must go to the door and invite in the first person who happens to come along.’ A person feeling like that is getting very near to breaking point. Yet there are hundreds of thousands like her.

Of course, there are lonely people in hospitals and old people’s homes as well as in homes for the blind and physically handicapped. These, too, are wonderfully helped by visitors. But here several well-intentioned people make a mistake. They visit, but they visit everybody. What makes the great difference is the visitor who goes to see just one person. That visited person feels that he or she is being given a special significance. And it is this sense of having a special significance with someone that is so very important.

I shall always remember calling to see an old man in a home for old people. When I reached his bedside, I could see that he was in a most cheerful mood.

‘Do you know who came to see me yesterday?’ was his greeting. ‘Why, Alfred Watson. You remember me telling you about him. We worked together. And he came all the way from Nottingham just to see me.’

That is what particular visiting means. The lonely person, whether he is in his own rooms, house or bedsittingroom, or in some hospital or home, responds wonderfully to anyone who makes him feel that effort and sacrifice have been made just for him.

FELLOWSHIP IN THE CHURCH

Of course, no conscientious Catholic could omit the need to bring everyone-and especially the lonely-into the wide and wonderful fellowship of the Church. This is the greatest service a Catholic can do for the lonely person. But this should come only after the lonely person has been persuaded that he or she is regarded as of great worth for their own sakes.

When this has been achieved, the next step should be, with the help of the priest, to make this person aware that the Church is a communion to which all are welcome. And the Catholic has, in this respect, the greatest message man has ever heard or ever can hear. For here the matter of unworthiness is of prime importance. We all know that we are unworthy of the love of God and of the gift of his Church. If St Paul and St Peter felt this, then it is not surprising that we, who are so much smaller, should share their sense of unworthiness.

In other words, every Catholic knows that he shares a fellowship of which he is unworthy. It is in that spirit that he invites the lonely one to share in that fellowship. And to one who has felt unworthy of notice, he offers a world-wide community in which he or she is equal before God. And it is not merely a human fellowship that he offers. It is a divine communion that can only be broken by selfishness and sin. In other words, the Catholic offers the lonely person a fellowship that endures for ever and which time and place cannot break.

Here, as every Catholic knows, is the deepest and truest answer to loneliness. It is, of course, the unfailing care and love of God. A man or woman truly aware of the love of God the Father can never again feel lonely and unwanted. In that knowledge is his salvation, his life and his lasting joy.

********

Look It Up In The Book

BY REV. ROBERT NASH, S.J

INDEX

I

That’s what you remember being told in your school days. As with wrinkled brow you ploughed your way through a passage of Seadna and came upon an unfamiliar word, your excellent teacher did not allow you to slur over it and merely hazard a guess as to its meaning. No, he rightly insisted that you should fix that word in your mind by turning to your dictionary or to the vocabulary at the end of the volume and discovering for yourself what it meant. “Look it up,”-that was the slogan which most of us, I suppose, who have ever tried to learn a language can recall. And if you failed to recognise the same word when you happened upon it another day and in another context your inexorable teacher would refuse point blank to help you out. He knew the value of finding it again for yourself, so once more there was nothing for it but to obey the order echoing throughout the classroom and “look it up in the book.”

I know a small word, -a monosyllable indeed, consisting of only three letters,-and I think most of us will agree that its meaning is fast passing into the land of vague and distant memories. This is not because the word is unimportant. To tell the truth there are few words more necessary to keep before our minds. So it will certainly be worth our while looking it up again, even if we happen to be among the few who still are mindful of its full significance. Presently we shall see where to find the book, but first you will want to know what is the word itself. Our enlightened world, while rightly it prides itself on its progress and its knowledge in other spheres, has grown deplorably ignorant and forgetful of the definition of sin.

Must I prove it? Well perhaps you listened-in the other night to that play? It was a funny play all right and evoked a good laugh. Granted. But when you begin to think over the plot, you find that it all turned on a clever bit of robbery. There were lies as plentiful as blackberries in October. There were false oaths sworn in court. The hero of the piece came out smiling at the end having carried through his scheme to enrich himself handsomely. But it happens that to steal and do business by underhand methods is forbidden by God’s Law. To perjure oneself is, in His eyes, a most heinous crime. But your playwright takes it for granted that neither you nor his principal character are going to allow such a trivial circumstance to weigh against the opportunity of turning over a goodly sum of ready cash. Sin has a nasty flavour, sin is a note that jars, so please let’s forget it and get on with our play!

Or examine offhand many a film and find again the same easy readiness which leaves God out. You saw “Gone With The Wind?” Liked it? Couldn’t see any objection to it from a Catholic pint of view? Recommended your friends to be sure to go? But did you not notice that it assumes that the fittest place for the Ten Commandments is your wastepaper basket? Vices which Our Lord called by hard names are placidly condoned. The film smiles indulgently at the old-fashioned notions of morality and wondersthat anyone takes them seriously nowadays. If the “new morality” of this age of enlightenment happens to clash with God’s Law who is so silly as to bother about that?

You will observe that there is rarely a frontal attack, only the assumption made that what God has set down as His Law no longer deserves mention, still less observance. And the most frightening truth about this portrayal of modern mentality is that it is the correct one. Sin doesn’t matter. Conscience is a bogey. Forget it. Everyone does in these times.

I”ve taken just one film haphazard but think over others you’ve seen and you are going to come to the same conclusion,-that we have outgrown the Ten Commandments in the gospel of the modern world,-if the mentality assumed in many of our films he an indication of the signs of the times.

Your spicy novel offends in just the same way. Often the writer won’t bother to direct his shafts straight against what you are taught as a Catholic. He will assume, once more, that God’s point of view doesn’t count. He will try to leave the impression, by an innuendo here and a half-truth there, that, while it is true that a few credulous Catholics still believe in and practise what Christ taught, the vast majority of men have outgrown His doctrines. You can’t have a good time and be a practising Catholic and what use is life if not to extract from it the maximum of pleasure and fun, or to surround yourself with abundance of the good things of the world? Anything else is sheer waste of time, loss of opportunity. Once given that enjoyment is your raison d‘etre and automatically you laugh out of court Our Lord’s stern denunciation of sin. For, says your happy writer, what He calls sin is really the main avenue to a good time. Once set before your eyes wealth and abundance as the goal of your existence and of course swindling and trickery become the most natural things in the world. No doubt He condemned these things, but don’t let that bother you. Don’t you!

What’s the result of this insidious propaganda? Even Cath olics are breaking away from their moorings. You will be told that sin is “only natural.” “Only natural” flagrantly to violate in most serious matters, a clearly expressed law of God. But everyone does it; can’t you gather as much from the screen and the thriller? You’re no worse than anybody else and you may as well join in the fun. It can’t be too bad, and anyhow God is merciful. Sentiment overrules reason and the teaching of our faith. The world subtly invites our sympathy with the husband who is unfaithful, or bids us admire the skill by which the crook makes a getaway, or sends us home laughing and amused at the forgeries by which the criminal evades the law. It does not take the trouble to add,-but rather takes quite a lot of trouble to omit,-that all this free-and-easy conduct is sin, mortal sin, an insolent disobedience on the part of a puny creature to do what he is ordered to do by his Lord and Creator. It never bothers to point out that there is a fearful sanction for that Law of God. If He be not obeyed here in this world from the motive of love, His justice will be vindicated by an eternity of punishment in hell.

Childish, sneers your smart modern. Old wives” tales, hoary with age, dead as the dodo, or at least decaying fast and moribund. We’ve grown up, thank you.

How are we Catholics going to keep our standards of right and wrong ? Or to reaffirm them for ourselves if they have begun to bend in face of the storm? Let us look up in the book and study once again for ourselves the correct definition. I saw the other day a striking picture of St. Thomas Aquinas kneeling before his crucifix. No doubt you have at least some hazy notion of the colossal amount of work he did for Catholic Theology by his pen. Popes have vied with each other in trying to discover words that will adequately express the genius and the sanctity of this “perfect doctor and perfect saint.”

The picture I refer to illustrates the anecdote told about Thomas and his friend St. Bonaventure. “Where, my brother” asked the latter, “do you learn so much? Whence do you draw all this wonderful doctrine?” And Thomas pointed to his crucifix. “That is my book. At His feet I learn it all.”

We might suggest that from the same book we could derive a correct definition of the meaning of sin. What Hollywood thinks of sin is not to the point, or what attitude is adopted by the writer of your modern best-seller. But what does Jesus Christ think of sin? How does He teach us its full significance? It will repay us, like St. Thomas, to kneel down here at His .bleeding feet and clarify our notions on the subject. The book is open wide before our eyes and all we have to do is to look and read. Every wound in that wracked body in front of us is like a tongue to answer our query.

Before we listen to those different tongues speaking, we have to let the truth first sink deep into the very marrow of our being that the Sufferer is God.

When sin is permitted to work out its malice in full, against a Victim Who is the Son of God, Calvary is the result, shocking us into realising that this is sin. “He was made sin,” says St. Paul with his wonted vigour, implying that He was made its Victim. And here you have the result,-a sinless Son of God, writing with His blood the answer to the question we are pursuing. And remember too that He suffers thus for the sins of others, and puts to us that most searching question:- “If this be done in the green wood what shall be done in the dry?” Despite the metallic laugh by which your modern world dismisses it, sin must be indeed an evil the depths of which we never may hope to plumb, if Calvary is God’s way of bringing home to us its cruelty, its base ingratitude, its insolence, its insatiable hatred in pursuing its goal. Look it up in the book, the open book, the pages of which stretch across the broad expanse of this Hill.

What is sin? As you kneel here with the book spread out before you, you observe that there are nails in the feet of Christ,-a nail in His right foot and a nail in His left foot. If you ask what is sin, here is His first answer. Those two nails are, to all who read in this book, a warning of the price paid by Our Lord for sins committed by the feet. Men use their feet to sin,-how? What about those occasions of sin concerning which He constantly utters words of admonition? Men use their feet to walk into places of danger where their immortal souls are going to be seared with the guilt of grievous sin. There is that bar where you know you squandered your money, reduced yourself to the level of a beast, and came out in a state that left you in imminent danger of falling into other vices. There is that dark haunt where you hid yourself and your sin, from every eye, except His. What is sin? Suppose before going there you had looked in the book and contemplated those two nails in the feet of Christ, I wonder if you would so easily absolve yourself and assure yourself that your sin wasn’t any great crime.

Sins committed by the feet? Any qualms, as you kneel here before the pages of this open book, about your dancing? Has it been a cause of sin to yourself or to your partner? There were two feet pierced by nails to remind you of the malice of your action, and they were the feet of the Son of God. Never thought about it just that way, did you? Sins of the feet? Do you want to join in the walk to Calvary with those who on that day used their feet to follow Him jeeringly and call down His Blood upon themselves and their children? You are doing it most effectively by failing to look up in the book and understanding the frightful ingratitude and malice of using your feet to go into places of sin.

From your position here at those bleeding feet lift up your eyes a little higher and, before the darkness falls, notice that that Body is naked. The insult it must have been to the dignity of the Son of God!

But men must understand and women must learn the lessons of Christian modesty. No sane person expects girls today to dress as girls did in the days of good Queen Victoria. But at the same time there is a limit and it behooves us, while kneeling here, to ponder well on the teaching of the Popes, and to remind ourselves how fiercely others might be tempted, and how readily they might succumb to grievous sin, because our Catholic girls failed to learn the need of reserve and restraint. One wonders if many excellent Catholic parents realise the harm they do by allowing their children, even little children, to depart from the standards of Christ in this matter and follow the lead of neo-paganism. Or if many excellent Catholic girls ever bring home to themselves the truth that, by their blasé attitude concerning dress they are permitting themselves to be a pawn in the devil’s game to stir up men’s passions.

These things need to be said, and said plainly, and if you doubt it ask sincere men who are trying to go straight and who admit the difficulty caused by the lack of Christian modesty on the part of girls, even Catholic girls, in the matter of dress.

Shortly after His death the heart of Our Lord was pierced by a lance. Here too is a most moving answer to the question we are proposing to ourselves. The heart is the seat of the affections, and that open wound is a tongue crying out to warn all who gather here, about the heinousness of allowing the heart to be enslaved by unholy desires and unlawful loves. The married man who pays sinful attentions to the young girl typist in the office with him, the wife who allows her vanity to be flattered by the notice bestowed on her by the man across the street or by the man who calls to repair the window or leave in those parcels, the girl who knows perfectly well that she is a thief and a robber stealing from her employer, not his silver or his gold or his tea or sugar, but the love which he solemnly vowed before God’s altar to give to another,-do these ask what is sin? There is an open wound in the Heart of Christ and it explains to them more eloquently than any Bossuet or Lacordaire the true nature of the sin of those who allow their hearts to be beguiled by unlawful affections.

Yet a little higher you raise your eyes and this time they rest upon His swollen lips and on a tongue that cleaves to the roof of His mouth. With that book open before you can you any longer tell me that your foul and suggestive talk is a matter of no consequence? Look at His tongue and understand the pains He went to in order to make you realise the wickedness of sins done by the tongue. You have indulgent views about taking the Holy Name irreverently, have you? You don’t attach much importance to that growing habit of criticising your neighbour harshly and broadcasting his faults, real or imaginary or exaggerated? You tell me that you had to swear that false oath; all round you others were doing the same at that trial and it you didn’t follow suit you stood to lose your whole case and perhaps a few hundred pounds to boot. So you had to take a false oath? You were compelled to call the all-holy God to bear witness that your lie was the truth! Jesus Christ went to His death, to this death, because He stood by the truth and refused to swerve from it when solemnly adjured in court to answer in the name of the living God. That’s how He spoke and here in death that tongue of His still proclaims the malice of all lying and perjury.

And the lips are parched and dried for He is undergoing an excruciating thirst. I wonder what those lips have to say to our sherry parties and cocktail gatherings if they lead to sin, especially mortal sin? Does this Catholic girl, as she laughingly raises that glass to her lips, ever pause and consider the lengths He went to in order to warn her of the terrifying possibilities of the habit she knows she is contracting? Is it sufficient justification to tell herself she must be a sport and do as well as the others? If when she wakes up next day she is conscious that she degraded herself does she even then look in the book and learn from those lips the true nature of her sin?

Or the man who squanders his money on drink and breaks his wife’s heart and terrifies his little children,-would he ever be guilty of such insanity and such vice if he gave himself time to realise what drunkenness cost Christ on Calvary? Jolly companions will tell you be a sport at that dance, “decent” friends will take you by the arm to treat you to drink and to more drink. Do they and you believe that Jesus Christ is the Son of God and that His eyes follow you both reproachfully and define for you with a tongue that is parched and lips that are thickened and dry, the foulness of your deed? His lips and tongue speak loudly above the blare of music in that dance hall. They try to make themselves heard in the midst of the coarse jokes and innane shrieks of laughter and they refuse to be drowned by the cheap songs that fill the hotel saloon or the bar parlour on Saturday night. Do you ever hear them or listen to them as they tell you what is sin? And does the voice of Christ reach you at all as He summons you to fulfil a sacred obligation next day. Your Sunday Mass? Or are you too sodden and stupified as a result of your night’s “fun” to get up in time?

What is sin? What is drunkenness? What is filthy talk, what are lies, and tale-bearing, and irreverence for the Holy Name, and uncharitable gossip, and suggestive stories and songs. and false oaths? What are these things? Part and parcel of modern life? Nothing very much to grow excited about! Everyone does them! Isn’t our callousness galling? Are we so blind that we cannot look up in the book and read what His lips and His tongue have to tell us?

The eyes of Christ, I see, are weighed down with blood and with spittle. And your eyes?

Ever use them to sin? Your reading? Quite all right? Not just a bit ashamed as you kneel here of that reeking volume you gloated over? And you passed it on, and another as a result feasted his or her eyes on the same cesspool? But it did you no harm; you can read anything. I wish it were in my power to credit that statement. But even if that was so, are you prepared to answer for the possible grievous sins of the other to whom you lent the book?

Sins with the eyes? What about that “show?” You sat there bolt upright with eyes glued to that screen or to that stage. What held you spellbound in this way? Here in the light of His all-seeing eyes have you the courage to wax eloquent about it as you did to your friends after it was over? Of course everyone said it was a “great” show, a “splendid” picture, a “clever” plot. Bring it up here to Calvary. What does He think? Does He corroborate the opinion you voiced so loudly? His verdict is the only one that matters after all.

There are other ways of sinning with the eyes, but you can please learn their malice for yourself as you study the pages of this open book. No need to be more explicit but with His two eyes, now opened and looking straight down into the depths of your soul, you will have light to read and to understand what He thinks of vices so casually dismissed by a world that is forgetting the definition of sin.

What about sins of thought? Not a scrap harm in them, the modern world assures you airily Think as you please. The allimportant rule is to “play the game,” avoid “getting caught,” preserve external deportment and conform externally to the usages of “good society.” But foster in your mind and heart all the depravity you wish for. Feast your thoughts on any subject that attracts you. Nobody is going to bother, for nobody sees what takes place in the secret places of your mind.

But on Calvary I read very differently. He did not share these easy views, for I remember that He declared that if a man look on a woman with evil desire he has already sinned with her in his heart. And to enforce His lesson and make us read the correct definition He wears a crown on His head, a crown of thorns pressed into His temple and causing Him exquisite torture. And your mind? Your thoughts? I do not speak of all impure thoughts, for, God help us; in our present state of fallen nature, all such thoughts are impossible to avoid. But when the temptation grows strong to indulge deliberately in them, to sit back and allow their poison to saturate the mind,-then to look up in the book and see the crown of thorns must surely prove a warning and a deterrent against consent.

I have still to contemplate the ears of the dying Christ which were assailed with the cries of blasphemy and mockery. He would suffer thus for I have to learn the malice of using my ears to commit sin. So bend your ear, if you wish, to listen eagerly to that smutty story, but remember the price your sin is costing Him. Isn’t it a sad commentary on our sinful condition that those ears of ours are always so ready to listen, time after time, to the same shady story? Tell a man a clean good joke today and repeat it tomorrow, and he will probably remind you that you told it before. It has lost its interest and its point when it has been heard once. But introduce a smutty story and it will be listened to and rehearsed time and time again. It will go on its rounds of devastating work, ruining the souls which Christ died for here on Calvary.

Sins of the ears? Yes, there are other chapters to be written under this heading, but once again you will be able to read the meaning of them in the pages of the book.

Last of all I see that in Christ’s hands, as in His feet, there are two nails holding Him to the Cross. Stretch out your own hands and look at them. Did you ever use those two hands of yours for sinful purposes? You think yourself smart because you rake in money with them. But how do you secure your hold upon it? Black market? Taking advantage of a poor man’s necessity to overcharge? Everyone is doing it so why not you? Using your hands to sell drink over your counter to men or women who have already had too much? You are cooperating in their sin, aren’t you, by using your hands in this manner? If that man commits mortal sin tonight, how are you going to answer for your share in his crime? If he falls into a drain on the way home, or is knocked down and killed by a passing lorry, if he is incapable of getting up for Mass tomorrow, Sunday, will it be quite in order to acquit yourself by the bland assurance that it is his own fault?

Sins committed by the hands? Copying out filthy yarns in writing and circulating them? Encouraging others to do the same? And that in full view of the two nails that pierced the hands of Christ on Good Friday? “O senseless Galatians, who hath bewitched you that you should not obey the truth, before whose eyes Jesus Christ hath been set forth, crucified among you?”

Look it up in the book, the correct definition of sins of theft, of cooperating in another’s sin, of dishonest dealings, or deeds of impurity. Once again the modern world looks amusedly and makes merry over these things. But it cost Jesus Christ the Son of God this price to set thus before your eyes the correct definition.

At this point I would wish you to stop reading and close this pamphlet. The second part will hold for another occasion. But meantime? Meantime, I wish you would kneel down, take out your crucifix, and study each of the answers to our query. Look it up in the book, the true definition of sin, especially grievous sin. If you give yourself a chance to kneel thus for ten minutes or a quarter of an hour, slowly pondering on each of those wounds, I think you will learn what sin means. Touch those two nails in His feet,-what is their lesson? Consider the poor naked body,- how does His nakedness help to completing our definition? His heart is pierced,-why? His tongue is swollen, His tongue parched with thirst, His eyes are heavily laden with blood and spittle,-what does all this do towards clarifying our notion of sin? There is a crown of thorns, there are nails in His hands-look at them, feel them, let them speak to you. and they all unite in proclaiming that there is one evil in this world, one only evil from which, as from a running sore all other evils emanate, and sin is its name.

Stay here as long as you like, the longer the better, for no matter how long and carefully you ponder over those wounds and disfigurements in Christ’s Body you will never probe the depths of malice and abomination of sin. But look it up in the book, and keep looking. Efface for the moment every other image except that of Christ crucified and He will shed light into your mind and you will begin to see. Sin, and mark especially that it was the sin of others, reduced the Son of God to this pass. Do not be in a hurry to pass on. Let the truth sink into your soul. Men sin because they do not think, because they do not give themselves time to learn their definition. When next you are tempted to sin, as tempted you surely will be, bring this open book before your eyes, stop dead and look at it for three minutes. Mary stands under the Cross and points out the wounds and disfigurements in her divine Son’s body. You know what they mean now, don’t you? And are you going to rush headlong, reckless of consequences, into that place of sin? Or, heedless of His warnings and pleadings are you prepared to seek out once more that sinful companion? God forbid!

Saint Vincent de Paul was trying, without success, to bring back to God a notorious sinner. His pleadings and warnings alike fell upon deaf ears. One day the saint brought him a large crucifix and made a bet with him. He challenged the sinner to place the crucifix on his mantelpiece and look steadily at it three times a day for a week, and to say slowly and deliberatelyeach time: “I don’t care.” Yes, to be sure, the sinner would take on the bet,-and win. But he lost. After three days he returned to St. Vincent. “Father, you win. I can’t do it. I do care. Beg Him to have mercy upon my sinful soul.”

II

There are few acts possible for you to do which will be more appreciated than to show sympathy with a mother who loves and whose son is dying or in pain. At such a time her heart will beat faster with gratitude if you express your grief, and more especially if your expression translates itself into deeds on his behalf.

Now “there stood by the cross of Jesus, His Mother.” We have already spent some time with her here, and in her company we have pondered on each of His wounds, each of His sufferings, and have compiled from them the true definition of sin. That is much, but so far we have read down through only one side of the volume. The page on our left hand defines sin. What is there for us to learn from the page at our right? Mary points now to this second page, and as we peruse it she tells us how we are to undo the malice of evil, how to help her and Him to roll back the great tidal wave of sin that is inundating the world and engulfing the souls of men. In other words she tells us that on this next page we find out how tosympathise. The word “sympathy” is derived from two Greek words which mean “suffering with” a person. Now the Passion of Jesus on Calvary is the weapon which He, being Who He is, knew to be the most effective to destroy the sad effects of sin. Calvary therefore instructs us, not only as to the real nature of sin hut also as to the method of warfare to be employed against it.

This is why St. Paul cried out that he would “fill up in his flesh” what was wanting to the Passion of Christ. He was part of Christ’s Mystical Body, and accordingly what Christ endured he too must endure in his measure. And the generous desire to extend the fruits of the Passion thus is the motive underlying the lives of those who read diligently in the book. Our divine Lord atoned abundantly for sin and merited all graces. But, in order that the fruits of His Passion be produced in men, our co-operation is needed after we have come to the use of reason. In regard to ourselves we must “die to sin and live to justice.” In regard to others we must, in Our Holy Father’s words, “restrain this mortal body by voluntary mortification.” So, with Mary, those who love Our Lord look once more in the book, and once more they derive knowledge as to ways and means.

Yes, they see that He suffered in His feet. Those feet which walked the hard ways of life in search of the sheep that were lost can walk no more now. Do you want to show genuine sympathy? Use your feet to continue the journeys He began. Walk into the slums and alleys and bring Him souls. Walk to the Church for early Mass and Holy Communion and offer your steps for the conversion of sinners. His feet are suffering. The generous apostle will be weary and footsore too but weariness is his delight for by it he fills up something of what is wanting to the sufferings of Christ.

The body of Christ is wracked with pain. The body of Christ is cold. The body of Christ lies here on Calvary in a position calculated to cause Him excessive agony. And once again the apostle finds here his inspiration and his model. His body too must suffer in atonement. As an antidote to the pleasure-seeking, comfort-loving world about him the apostle will, with Christ, hang on his cross and make his body feel the smart of pain. Jesus can suffer no longer in His physical body, but the true apostle cannot sit and watch Him and then go his way and forget. If that innocent body goes through this anguish to save souls and repair the damage wrought by sin, the lesson is very clear,-that only by voluntary suffering can the Passion be continued and souls won from the thraldom of satan. That is why you find generous souls who are fired with a longing to fast, to make their bodies feel pain, to spend their energy and wear out their bodies in toil which they joyfully undertake, urged as they are by their craving to be like Him. The pain which wracked His body here is continued by many a patient sufferer on his bed of sickness.

The spear pierced His side and opened His Heart And your heart too must be opened wide if you would be His apostle. On our first page He showed us how men sin by allowing their hearts” affections to go astray. But this time the open Heart of Christ challenges the apostle to embrace in his heart the souls of all men without exception. The pure love of Christ mustcontinue to pour itself out on men’s souls, and the apostle accordingly must keep his heart close to Christ’s Heart and fill it from this source. In this way “that open Heart, a treasure-house of divine generosity, will pour out on us torrents of mercy and of grace, and that Heart which never ceased to burn with love for us will be opened to the saintly as a place of rest and to penitents as a secure haven of refuge.”

Do you remember the lesson on our first page drawn from those eyes of Christ? This time as the apostle kneels here he understands that his eyes he too must use to expiate sin. You will often find him on his knees keeping vigil with his eyes fixed upon the Tabernacle. You will discover a kindliness in the expression of those eyes which reminds you of the look from Christ that broke Peter’s heart with sorrow, or of the affection for His friend which filled those eyes of His with tears at the grave of Lazarus.

The lips of the apostle he will consecrate here too to the sacred work of filling up in his flesh what is wanting to the sufferings of Christ. Those lips will often move in prayer; they will champion Christ’s Cause; they will speak out fearlessly against His enemies; they will attract by the sweetness of their charitable utterances, even as the words that fell from His lips drew men after Him irresistibly. Men sin indeed with their lips, but generous souls will seal their lips in perpetual silence and, hidden away in monasteries and secluded places will offer their silence in reparation and thus fill up what is wanting.

Jesus wore a crown of thorns and it has taught us much already. But it has yet another inspiration for the apostle. His mind? How can he use it in the work of atonement? There are men today who offend God grievously by misusing the gift which makes them most God-like-their intellect. There are men whose minds revel continually in those foul thoughts we read of on page one. But that very fact lends wings to the determination of the apostle who wants to give practical sympathy. There are men too, thank God, and many of them who have consecrated brilliant intellects to the cause of truth, who have written valiantly in its defence. There are men and women around about us and they are ever occupied in their minds with one only problem-how to bring God to souls and souls to God.

From such consecrated minds have sprung organisations like Mary’s Sodality, which, for four hundred years has been, with unwearied patience fashioning souls to high sanctity and sending them into the field of Catholic Action to inflame the souls of others. From such intellects evolved, just one hundred years ago, the great Apostleship of Prayer-a tiny mustard seed at first, sown in the obscurity of a Jesuit classroom and behold, its branches have spread till they have become co-terminous with Christianity. From minds that have studied with minute care the mind of Him Who is here wearing His crown have come forth the Society of St. Vincent de Paul, and in our own days, the worldwide Legion of Mary. Thank God that, if there are men and women whose minds are steeped in sin, there are others which are luminous, and whose brightness is kept alive by contact with the mind of Christ on Calvary.

And, apart from these there are others too whose minds are full of divine light. Not all who drink in the ideas and ideals of Christ are endowed with the power to organise great works or to write in His defence. None the less they are a source to Him of consolation, and by a hidden apostolate of prayer and suffering they exercise an influence over souls which may very well far exceed the influence wielded by those in more prominent positions. For them He has not worn His crown in vain. They too have looked in the book and learned well the thoughts that lie hidden in that divine mind. Beyond all question they too are filling up what is wanting to the sufferings of Christ.

His ears had to listen, on that day, to jeers and taunts, and many men still use the gift of hearing to offend Him. But the apostle will consecrate this gift to His service. He will close his ears to uncharitable talk and gossip, but he will open them wide to hear, with Christ-like sympathy, the story of sorrow or of shame. You will find him generous with his time whenever he comes upon trouble of mind or body for Jesus was like that, and the apostle must continue to be, as it were, Jesus over again! An ideal so exalted as to be never attainable, but he will keep trying. So his ears he will use to listen as Jesus listened and to deafen when he recognises that Jesus too would have deafened His ears in similar circumstances.

What can the apostle do with his hands to press them into Christ’s service? Christ’s own hands are nailed to the cross today, but time was when they were roughened with toil, time was when they were employed to touch healingly, time was when they rested lovingly on the heads of innocent children, or busied themselves to wait on His disciples, or wash their feet, or cook their meals, These things the hands of Christ can do no longer now, for in the right hand there is a nail, and in the left hand there is another. But the hands of the apostle can be consecrated too, and they in turn can become, as it were, the hands of Christ.

So the apostle learns to “apostolise” the tying of a parcel or the washing of a dish. He understands when using his hands to attend to the needs of that sick, and possibly ungrateful and exacting patient, that he is continuing the apostolate of His Master and Model. If he earns his living by breaking stones or digging in a bog he knows that no labour is too menial to be sanctified sinceChrist toiled at a carpenter’s bench. If a poor woman goes out to the wood to collect timber and bends wearily under her load on the way home, she remembers that His hands carried the cross and His shoulders bent lower still under its weight.

What can the apostle do with his hands? I read of sewing for the missions and making vestments. I hear of garments made for the poor of Christ. I know about meals cooked and given away by generous hands to those who are hungry and starving. I watch the hands of Christ’s priest lifted in absolution over the penitent sinner. I look on those same hands raising for me to adore the immaculate Body that hung on Calvary, or exposing It for my veneration in the Monstrance. I think of the hands that guide the blind, the hands that open a door to the destitute or the fallen, the hands directing and protecting the early steps of childhood. Once more if there are men who use their hands to sin, there are others who have learned from His hands the sublime lesson of supernaturalising everything they touch. It is not such a difficult lesson to master if only you look assiduously on the second page of this open book. And the lesson when understood and practised has a wonderful power to elevate the most commonplace action to the plane of the super-natural.

A mother appreciates sympathy when her child is in pain or nearing death. Mary is standing here on Calvary, and, if you want to be sincere in your expressions of sympathy, read page two in the book. “There stood by the cross of Jesus, His Mother”-not only to teach you the correct definition of sin, but also to instruct you in the ways and means to combat it and free men from its slavery.

Another mother was watching at the bedside of her dying son. “Mother,” he gasped, “water. I”m tormente d with this thirst.” And mother held the glass to his lips. At that moment the clock struck three. “My son,” she whispered, “it is the hour when Jesus died. He thirsted too.” And the boy put the glass of water, untasted, back in the hands of his mother. Ido not know which of them displayed the greater courage, for a mother’s heart feels the pain endured by her son more than her own. But one thing I do know-both mother and son had mastered the second page and its lesson.

“Deep mystery this,” writes our Holy Father, “subject of inexhaustible meditation-that the salvation of many depends on the prayers and voluntary penances which the members of the Mystical Body of Jesus Christ offer for this intention. . . . This must be held, marvellous though it appear, that Christ requires His members . Heavenly gifts will surely flow more abundantly if we not only pray fervently . . . but if we also set our hearts on eternal treasures rather than on the passing things of this world, restrain this mortal body by voluntary mortification, denying it what is forbidden, forcing it to do what is hard and distasteful, and finally humbly accept as from God’s hands the burdens and sorrows of this present life. Thus according to the apostle, “we shall fill up those things which are wanting of the sufferings of Christ, in our flesh, for His Body which is the Church.””

II

Some twenty or twenty-five years ago a priest was seated at X. railway station waiting for the train to start. Presently on looking out of the window he saw, standing there on the platform, a peasant woman with shawl over her head and her husband by her side. Their son, aged nineteen, was leaning out of the carriage window.

The priest took in the situation at once. He knew that the young fellow was a ne’er -do-well who had brought disgrace on the heads of his decent father and mother, and who, as a result of his misdemeanours, was being compelled to leave the place.

Three or four minutes before the train whistle blew the poor mother broke down completely. She began to sob as if her heart was going to break. She turned up the corner of her check apron and leaned forward helplessly against the window of the train, holding the apron to her weeping eyes. The husband looked up and down the platform in a shy awkward way, evidently dreading a scene and wishing from his heart that the train would move off and put an end to this agony and suspense.

And then came the shock of horror to the priest who was watching it all. The young man proceeded to produce his own pocket handkerchief and actually began to mimic and ridicule the sobs of his broken-hearted mother. Not satisfied with having brought down in shame her grey hairs to the grave, not content with having repaid all her years of love with cruelty and crime, this boy now devises yet another insult. The last memory she will have of him, before the train takes him away from her, perhaps never to see him again, will be that when her heart had already more grief than it could well hear, he left her behind him with a mocking grin on his face and a cry of mimicry in his voice. No need to tell you that the priest was indignant and you too would have been perfectly furious at such an inhuman outrage. Think of it,-her own son, her own flesh and blood, with a heart, you would say, like a piece of granite.

What bearing has this anecdote on our theme? Perhaps you suspect, but if you turn for a moment to the third Book of Kings your suspicions will give place to certainty. In the eleventh chapter of that book; you find the prophet Nathan telling David about two men, one rich and the other poor. The rich man had “exceeding many sheep and oxen, but the poor man had nothing at all but one little ewelamb.” One day a friend called to see the rich man, and, in order to spare his own, he .seized the poor man’s one little ewe-lamb, killed it and cooked it to make a meal for his visitor.

David was furious and swore that the rich man should die, having first restored fourfold to the poor man, “because he did this thing and had no pity.” But Nathan turned on the king and dumbfounded him by saying: “YOU are that man!” For David had sinned mortally, notwithstanding all the blessings heaped upon him by a loving God.

“You are that man.” Stifle your indignation against that boy at the railway station an d direct it against yourself. For, if ever you sinned mortally you jeered Christ hanging here on Calvary, “crucifying again the Son of God and making of Him a mockery.” There are some, many thank God, who on reading this open book, are fired with the long- ing and noble resolve to fill up in their flesh what is wanting to Christ’s sufferings and we saw something about them on page two. But there were others that day who failed to understand, and on our last page of the book we propose to trace the course followed by a man who can remain callous in full view of such love.

No man descends suddenly from the heights of sanctifying grace to the depths of habitual mortal sin. The process is a gradual one and its various steps may be illustrated in the story of the sickness and death of Lazarus by giving a metaphorical sense to the story.

The first fact we have about Lazarus is that he was “languishing.”* When a soul, hitherto full of earnestness and fervour and joyousness in God’s service, now begins to experience a disgust for prayer and Sacraments and works of zeal, let that soul be on the alert to recognise in this repugnance the first warning of possible disaster. Undoubtedly there are times when even the saints felt this weariness in well-doing, and when the tendency waxed strong to give up all effort. But they reacted against it by forcing themselves to all the greater fervour, and by setting their faces like flint against the urge to ease off.

Let a soul yield to the opposite policy and at once there is a lowering of the standard. Spiritual books become insipid, prayer is a bore, early Mass and Holy Communion are out of the question, although there were times when these would be secured at any price. And while all that concerns God’s service is gone through in a mechanical and indifferent manner, the things that delight the senses are eagerly sought and never seemed more desirable. The soul is still a thousand miles from serious sin, but its fervour is gone and its delight in the Lord. It is the first step; Lazarus was “languishing.”

Shortly afterwards Our Lord was told that His friend was “sick.” “Lord, behold he whom Thou lovest is sick.” And, quickly on the heels of the soul’s languor comes a spiritual sickness. Prayers are now easily omitted altogether. There are frequent outbursts of bad temper. There is plenty of uncharitable talk and harshness and a peevishness that astonishes those who knew that man in the days of his fervour and now cannot fail to observe how sadly changed he has become. Well might we imagine the angel entrusted with the man’s soul pointing him out to the Lord and declaring: “Lord he whom Thou lovest is sick!

There is a third step downwar d. “Lazarus our friend,” said Jesus, “is asleep.” Let a man remain languid and pass thence to sickness of soul, and after a while he finds himself acquiescing in this unhappy condition. He is dull and irresponsive to the promptings of grace. Missioners come and perhaps he sits before them in Church but their message fails to stir him. He is asleep. A friend of the old days, with whom perhaps he often worked as a Sodalist or Legionary calls to see him and to encourage him to take up again some work for souls. But the friend goes home disappointed for he might as well have been speaking to a sleeping man. He no longer has any interest in these things for he is oppressed with drowsiness where they are concerned. For a while he continues in this state of atrophy. But he cannot remain thus, for his heart craves for love to fill it. Since he has now no love for what is of God, there is nothing to be wondered at that he next descends another step, a perilous step. And what is it?

* It is plain from Our Lord’s words that the “languishing” of Lazarus was his “sickness,” and that his “sleep” was “death.” But the Latin text uses a different word for each of these different stages-”languens”; “infirmatur”; “dormit,” “mortuus est.” This, I suppose, is the justification for the interpretation borrowed from the Fathers and given above.

It is death. It is soulmurder. “Lazarus,” Our Lord declares, “is dead!” Too long did he dally with his tepidity and apathy; too readily did he turn to gratify himself by seeking a life of ease and effacing the memory of the cross. And, little by little he has reached this terrible pass; he is dead, his soul is steeped in mortal sin. He has joined those who crucify again the Son of God and make of Him a mockery. And he can settle down to this frightful condition. Jesus found Lazarus four days in the tomb.

And when He found His friend thus and ordered the tomb to he opened, Martha, full of confusion, remonstrated. “Lord,” she whispered, “by this time he stinketh!” And let a sinner persevere in his sinful ways and soon his life becomes a source of scandal to others. His words, his actions, the expression of his eyes, the appearance even of his face-all the man’s whole bearing somehow, bespeaks sin and sinfulness, and by his evil example he encourages others to sin, teaches them how to sin, laughs at their scruples, becomes a ringleader in shameful practices. All this is like the stench of the vices that are corrupting his heart and ruining his soul. St. Catherine of Sienna used to know when a man in her presence had mortal sin on his soul for she suffered at such a time from the unendurable odour of his sins.

When Jesus came to the tomb “He groaned in spirit and troubled Himself . . . And Jesus wept.” And here on Calvary He weeps too, and troubles Himself. Such a spectacle! The Son of God weeps over the sins that mutilate His work in man’s soul. In order to arouse the dead Lazarus, Jesus “cried out with a loud voice: “Lazarus, come forth.”” And he that was dead came forth, and Our Lord ordered him to be loosened and let go.

Look it up in the book -the terrifying descent which would lead you ultimately to league yourself with those who are crucifying Him here today. Here too He calls out with a loud voice, but even here it is possible to stop one’s ears and blind one’s eyes. You are that man! Are you? If so your soul is buried in the tomb, but the loud cry will re-echo over Calvary. The dead soul will be quickened with life, and Jesus will order it to be loosened of the shackles that bind it. And behold once more it finds itself free!

“Imagining Christ our Lord present before me on the Cross to make colloquy with Him, asking what have I done for Christ, what am I doing for Christ, and what ought I to do for Christ. Then, beholding Him in such a condition, and thus hanging upon the Cross, to make the reflections which may present themselves.” So writes another man who looked long and lovingly at the pages of the open book. That picture which St. Ignatius gives us at the close of his meditation on “Three Sins” has suggested the writing of this pamphlet. His book of Spiritual Exercises is a gold-mine from which we have tried to extract three precious stones. These on examination shed light upon the meaning of sin, and the way to repair its ravages, and they warn us against the dangerous beginnings which might lead to ruin and collapse in our case as they did in the case of those who crucified Him. Because they shut their eyes to these truths men go on crucifying Him today. Because men open their eyes wide and read diligently in the book they are filled with an irrepressible longing to make others read also.

De licentia Superiorum Ordinis, JOANNES R. MACMAHON, S.J Praep. Prov. . Hib. Soc. Jesui. Dublini, die 1 Nov. 1944

Nihil Obstat

GULIELMUS FITZPATRICK. Censor Theol. Deput.

25/11/44

********

Louis Pasteur

A GREAT BENEFACTOR

INDEX

“MAD dog! Mad dog!” With shrieks of terror people fled

‘I’LL in all directions as the savage animal with its bloodshot eyes and foaming mouth rushed howling down the street. Alas, one small girl of five, fearful and hesitant, stood in its path. With a mad fury it sprang at her biting her face. Taken to hospital she began to develop the symptoms of hydrophobia, a disease accompanied by convulsions, intense thirst and an inability to swallow for which there was no remedy. A month later a middle-aged man, his expression one of acute suffering, stood watching her as she lay dying in agony.

“Poor child, poor child!” he murmured. “Oh, if only I could discover how to cure or prevent this terrible disease.”

He was not, as might be thought, the father. The child was a stranger to him. But Louis Pasteur could never forget that he himself had lost three little daughters from tuberculosis and typhoid fever so, as a famous scientist, he was trying to discover the cause and cure for these and other dreaded diseases. Now the sight of this child in her anguish made him determine to embark on new experiments with regard to hydrophobia. He set to work.

DANGEROUS EXPERIMENTS

Such experiments entailed keeping mad dogs kennelled near his laboratory. The work was excessively dangerous for these were the days when there were no anaesthetics to render such animals unconscious. There was, for example, the occasion when two of his assistants, having dragged a mad bulldog from its cage with a lasso, had to hold down the struggling beast with their hands while Pasteur drew up a few drops of the deadly foaming saliva into a tube held between his lips. One drop of that saliva into a scratch, one bite from that snapping jaw and those heroic men would have paid the penalty of madness and death. Using small animals for his purpose after extensive research and trial, the scientist believed that through inoculation of the disease in a very mild form he held the secret, not of a cure but of a preventive.

“But how can it be tested out on a human being?” he asked himself “No one would take the risk of being inoculated with hydrophobia. Perhaps I shall have to try it out on myself.”

It was while he was considering this idea that a little peasant boy was brought to him in a pitiful state.

“He was on his way to school,” sobbed the mother, “when he was attacked by a mad dog. See, he is bitten in fourteen places!”

Louis Pasteur surveyed the child thoughtfully. He was doomed to die an agonizing death from hydrophobia in any case. Surely then this was a God-given opportunity to try his new treatment! The mother gave her consent, his colleagues urged that there was not a moment to be lost. Realizing full well the seriousness of such an act, Pasteur administered the first injection.

WRACKED WITH ANXIETY

During the next few days, racked with anxiety at the thought that he was deliberately injecting a helpless child with the virus of a deadly disease, he could scarcely eat or sleep. The boy, however, developed none of the usual symptoms and at last the final dose was given. Breathless those beside him watched and waited, but the boy remained unaffected. At the end of a month little Joseph Meister was quite well. Louis Pasteur had conquered the terror of hydrophobia. This was but one of the many discoveries made by this brilliant scientist yet, except that he was particularly good at drawing, as a young boy he had not appeared to be specially gifted.

HUMBLE HOME, PARENTS

He had been born on December 27th, 1822, in a humble home and of humble parents, his mother being the daughter of a gardener, his father- who had once served as a conscript in the army of Napoleon- a tanner, first at Dole and later at Arbois. The child received the name of Louis at his baptism as a Catholic in the village church but he was not brought up as a practising Catholic. A few years previously the French Revolution had swept away many of the priests and the Religious with their schools and good works so, although when Louis was born those days were a thing of the past much of the faith in France had been destroyed as in England at the time of Henry VIII.

Louis, therefore, received no religious instruction either at home or at the village school which he attended. He was a quiet boy and worked well at his lessons, but like many of his companions he much preferred holidays to school. What greater joy than to ramble with them over the countryside or to go on fishing expeditions up the river which flowed past the tannery! He enjoyed, too, the simple pleasures of home and the companionship of his three sisters. And sometimes on a Sunday he would walk proudly beside his father whose military frock- coat bore the coveted ribbon of the Legion of Honour which, as a simple sergeant-major, he had received from the hands of Napoleon himself, on the field of battle.

“THE ARTIST”

Meanwhile it had been discovered that Louis had a real gift of catching a likeness with his pencil or crayons. One can picture his school-fellows clustering round his sketch book with admiring exclamations:

“Look, there’s Charles—and Pierre- and Jean. Oh, Louis, they are good!”

“He’ll be a famous artist when he grows up. We’ll call him “the artist”!

And they did. But Divine Providence had ordained another kind of fame for Louis Pasteur. His father, despite the fact that he was but a poor ignorant tanner, had determined to give his son a good education. So Louis left the village school for the college at Arbois, and every evening his father would try to encourage in him a love of learning by helping him with his homework. In after-life Pasteur said of his father:

“I owe everything to him- he had a passion to know and to study.”

AN EXCEPTIONAL PUPIL

Meanwhile, discovering that the new pupil’s apparent slowness sprang from a reflective and analytical mind, M. Romanet, the Principal of the college, also set himself to enkindle the lad’s ambition. Louis, who greatly admired his master, willingly responded. When he was sixteen M. Romanet had a talk with his father.

“Your son has exceptional gifts. I suggest that he should be sent to Paris to work up for the entrance examinations to the Ecole Normale, the training college for professors and scientists.”

Although it was no easy matter to find the necessary funds, the worthy tanner readily agreed, so one fine morning young Louis set off for Paris thrilled and excited at this new venture. We can imagine his parents’ fond pride in the thought that their son was now embarked on the first step towards a professional career. What then must have been their dismay to hear from the head of the students’ hostel that he considered it advisable that Louis should return home! A wild young student’s prank? Not a bit of it. He was so unhappy that he could not work. He was homesick!

INTENSE LOVE

Strange, incredible and even contemptible such home-sickness might appear to the English boy accustomed from an early age to boarding school. But as subsequent events were to prove, he who was to become renowned as a benefactor of mankind was no cold-blooded scientist actuated solely by pride and ambition. That warm-hearted, affectionate nature which manifested itself in his boyhood in an intense love of his father, mother and sisters—and later for his wife, children and friends—was to develop into that love of humanity summed up in the word “service,” a service to which he devoted his life, a love which- as will be seen- had its roots in the love of God.

A SECOND START

Nevertheless the joy which young Louis felt in finding himself back in his home was mingled with shame The sacrifice his parents had made for him had been in vain. That must not be. It was a question of “If you don’t at first succeed. . . .” So a second start was made at the Royal College of Besancon which was only thirty miles from home. This time all went well. Determined to persevere, he applied himself with such zeal to his studies that soon he was helping his comrades and also imparting some of his knowledge through correspondence to his father.

In these affectionate letters to his family he revealed his inmost thoughts. Remembering his previous failure he wrote to his sisters, saying: “It is the will which opens the door to brilliant careers . . .” and he goes on to stress that whatever may be the task, the will to work, coupled with the helping hand of God, ensures success.

For although, then as now, there were scoffers, atheists and unbelievers at the college, this clever reflective student found no difficulty in reconciling religion and science . He felt convinced that his love of beauty, his regard for morality and nobility of character and his sense of duty all came from a source- and that source was God. And although he was not an instructed or practising Catholic, nevertheless it was at this time that he determined to try and practise in his daily life the precept of Jesus Christ “Love one another”; a precept he fulfilled both as a student and as the most outstanding scientist of his day.

FURTHER STUDIES

At the age of eighteen Louis took his degree as Bachelor of Letters. This was the height of his father’s ambition. He hoped that his son would settle down as a teacher at the college, but Louis’ old master and friend, M. Romanet, urged that he should take a special course in mathematics and chemistry to qualify for the entrance to the Ecole Normale of Paris, his former goal. Two years later he passed the entrance examinations, fifteenth out of twenty-two. It was not good enough. He was refused admission and settled down to another year of study, supporting himself by early morning coaching. In a letter home, he wrote:

“Don’t worry about my health. I need not get up till 5.45. That is not too early.”

Elsewhere we read that, with a growing enthusiasm for chemistry and the laboratory, he worked from four in the morning until nine at night. In addition to his studies, he sometimes went with other students to hear a famous preacher, Pere Lacordaire, in the cathedral of Notre Dame.

A CLEVER YOUNG SCIENTIST

At his second attempt in the examinations Louis came out fourth with distinction in physics and chemistry. Already he was attracting attention as a clever young scientist. On the advice of his colleagues he refused a position as Professor of Physics so that he might work instead for the final degree of Doctor of Science. For this, as a result of extensive research on crystallography, he submitted a treatise which gave the first glimpse of molecular architecture to the world.

The examiners, incredulous, submitted it to Biot, the greatest living authority on the subject. Biot’s investigation convinced him that his own years of labour had been thrown into the shade by this young man of twenty-five. Nevertheless, grasping the newcomer warmly by the hand, he exclaimed:

“My dear fellow, I have so loved science all my life that your discovery fills me with joy.”

This was the beginning of a great friendship. Indeed Louis was to refer to Biot as his “spiritual father,” one who ever urged on him “the need for the highest moral discipline and rigorous scientific integrity.”

A CHARMING WIFE

One can well imagine the joy it must have been both to himself and his family to hear that he had received his degree as Doctor of Science; a joy, alas, cut short by the death of his mother. Shortly afterwards he was appointed as Professor of Chemistry at Strasbourg University, where he pictured himself settling down quietly as lecturer with one of his sisters to keep house for him. But things turned out differently. M. Laurent, the president of the college, had a charming daughter. Louis fell in love with Marie and she with him, so on May 29th, 1849, they were married in the little Catholic church of St. Madeleine, at Strasbourg.

Humanly speaking it was an ideal marriage, for not only was it based on a deep and enduring love but, as the daughter of a scholar, Marie encouraged and helped him in his work. As the years passed although he loved his home and the company of his gentle wife and children, he spent more and more time in the laboratory. His wife made no complaint for she was convinced that such research would in the end be of great service to mankind.

So each day he would leave home early for the laboratory while she made her way to church. For Marie was an ardent Catholic, loving the Mass and all that her faith stood for. Few men were practising Catholics in France in those days so perhaps she was not unduly distressed that her husband, such a good kind self-sacrificing man, never accompanied her to church. But we may be sure that she never ceased to pray that his simple sincere faith in God and the immortality of the soul would lead him to the Truth, the Way and the Life found in its entirety in His Holy Catholic Church.

Quietly the years slipped by. How pleased she must have been at his advancement when he gave her the news:

“My dear, I’ve been appointed as Director of Scientific Studies at the Ecole Normale!”

MANY SCIENTIFIC DISCOVERIES

And how great her pride as from that time onwards one scientific discovery after another brought him recognition and honour even though they brought in their train violent opposition and mocking hostility as well.

Before giving a brief description of these discoveries which were to have such far-reaching results, it is as well to consider the ignorance which prevailed with regard to medicine and surgery a hundred years ago. Liebig, the greatest German scientist, had affirmed that both decomposition and fermentation were purely physico-chemical in character. No one suspected that disease was due to living microbes, bacteria and germs, or that cleanliness played a vital part as a preventive and in the successful treatment of the sick. Operations were performed by surgeons wearing their everyday frock coats with dirty and even rusty instruments, so it was little wonder that the result was so often blood poisoning, gangrene and death. In addition to these evils, small-pox, tuberculosis, cholera, typhoid and other contagious diseases were rampant, preventive treatment by vaccination and inoculation being unknown.

LIGHT INTO DARKNESS

Into this prevailing ignorance a brilliant scientist was to bring light into darkness.

From experiments with the fermentation of beer Louis Pasteur discovered living “animalcules” which he declared played an important part in fermentation and putrefaction.

“Those who attempt to explain putrefaction of animal substances by the presence of animalcules argue like a child .

. .” retorted Liebig and his followers.

Since the time of Aristotle, naturalists and philosophers had believed in “spontaneous generation.” Virgil describes how a swarm of bees can be made to originate from the rotting carcase of a young bull! While Van Belmont, a Belgian physician, contributes the following:

“Squeeze soiled linen into the mouth of a vessel containing grains of wheat. After 21 days the wheat will be found to have been transformed into mice.”

Even in Pasteur’s time it was held that microscopic forms of life arose spontaneously without pre-existing germs.

Pasteur entered the fray. He wrote to a friend saying:

“It is the will of God that by the utmost perseverance I add something to the little that is known of the mysteries of life and death.”

THE SCIENCE OF BACTERIOLOGY

After extensive experiments, some of which were conducted in the pure air of the Alps, he proved that fermentation and putrefaction were not due to the presence of air as was believed but to living microbes in the air, microbes which greatly increased amid dust and dirt. Thus this great man in refuting the theory of spontaneous generation laid the foundation to the then unknown science of bacteriology. His claims met with ridicule and mockery in the press and everywhere.

“The world to which you pretend to lead us, M. Pasteur, is too fantastic “ sneered his opponents.

“The man is preposterous—a charlatan!” others declared.

Nevertheless his discovery aroused the greatest interest among his supporters in the world of science and elsewhere. Not only was he awarded the prize by the Academy of Sciences for the best experiment on spontaneous generation but the whole of Paris flocked to his lectures. One thing was lacking. Biot, whose nobility of character and love of science had been a source of inspiration to him, was not there to witness his success. He was dead. THE FIRST CAUSE

It was at one of these public lectures that Pasteur said of himself :

“In the laboratory it is not religion, philosophy, atheism, materialism nor spiritualism which counts. It is a question of facts which I approach without any preconceived ideas.” He went on to add, “Research on the first cause is outside the scope of science.”

MAN OF FAITH

This brought forth attacks from the materialists who, knowing Louis Pasteur to be a man of faith, declared scoffingly:

“The man is no scholar. He is merely a chemist who denies facts in defence of his creed.”

He had need of that faith for in that sphere of his affections, where he was most vulnerable, he was to be struck again and again. He had already lost Jeanne, his three-year-old daughter, of typhoid fever. Overwhelmed with grief he had written to his father, saying:

“Yet she is happy, that must suffice. May God’s will be done.”

PASTEURIZATION

Now, in 1862, not only was he to lose that dearly loved father for whom he felt an undying gratitude but his two-year-old daughter, Camille, dying from tuberculosis, and her sister, Cecile from typhoid, at twelve. Despite his love for his wife, his son and his only remaining daughter, Marie-Louise, what heartache must have overshadowed his new triumphs! The first of these was the discovery that harmful elements could be destroyed by heat. This vital fact was to lead to the pasteurization of milk- a common factor in modern dairy work- and the sterilization now practised in all hospitals.

IMPAIRED HEALTH

Despite continuous attack and opposition, gradually his ideas won the day; and then a tragedy occurred. In 1868, he was struck down with paralysis. He believed this to be the end.

“I had hoped to render further service to my country,” he murmured once. And with reference to his studies on contagious disease, “There is so much for me to do. A whole world to be revealed.”

But he was not to die. Slowly he regained health and strength and although his left leg was never the same as before, fortunately his mental faculties remained unimpaired. He had just started work again when, in July, 1870, a French declaration of war resulted in the over-running of the country by the Germans and the surrender of Paris. This in its turn brought about a Revolution in which many priests were executed and deported although Paris was reconquered from the enemy, street by street.

All this came as a great shock to the peace-loving scientist who had believed war to be a thing of the past. At times he felt greatly depressed although he was convinced that science and the love of peace would eventually triumph over ignorance and war. With all his knowledge he did not realize- as his wife did- that those two factors alone could never prevent either war or civil strife which is caused by injustice, cruelty, greed, love of riches and power- that is, by sin, which can only be overcome through the establishment in this world of true Christianity, through the reign of Christ the King.

ANTISEPTICS

Meanwhile, unable with his shattered health to join forces with his son who was fighting the enemy, the scientist was working to alleviate the suffering of the wounded. Three years earlier, Dr. Lister, a brilliant young surgeon working at Glasgow, had introduced with marked success new methods of treatment by antiseptics, which he ascribed to the discoveries of Pasteur. But in France, as these had not yet been put into practice, 70 per cent of the wounded were dying from blood poisoning and gangrene. Pasteur, having been elected a member of the Academy of Medicine, visiting the hospitals begged that instruments should be passed through a flame and dressings heated to a high temperature to destroy germs, while with the aid of his microscope he showed the surgeons that the pus from infected wounds was swarming with microorganisms. Many of them resented his interference and ridiculed his ideas.

“Why,” they scoffed, “what does he know about it! He’s not a surgeon, not even a medical man. Just a laboratory chemist. All this talk about bacteria is just rubbish!”

Nevertheless little by little the new methods gained ground while new honours and awards gave proof of an everincreasing fame. All this time, remembering the death of his three little daughters, his mind was continuously preoccupied with the causes of such terrible contagious diseases as cholera, small-pox, tuberculosis and typhoid. During an epidemic in Paris he had at once started experiments using infectious cholera matter. When a friend begged him to give up such dangerous work, he had replied quietly:

“And what about one’s duty?”

Duty, service to mankind, that was his purpose in life, a purpose warmly upheld by his unselfish wife.

A HARMLESS VACCINE

With the belief that all disease was caused by microbes he now at the age of fifty-five began to consider a preventive for these terrible diseases, and after four years of experiment on rabbits and other small animals he was convinced that he had found it. This was his discovery: a virulent germ could be modified and converted into a harmless vaccine which when inoculated into an animal prevented it from acquiring the disease later.

This revolutionary and, it must be admitted, highly dangerous idea was given to the world, in February, 1881, with the publication of his famous paper on Anthrax Vaccine. It caused universal and intense excitement; admiration and enthusiasm on the one hand, indignation and ridicule on the other.

“He has destroyed many animals and saved very few human beings,” declared his enemies scornfully.

Many of them, forming themselves into an anti-microbe campaign, went about poking fun at him, saying:

“The microbe alone is true and Pasteur is its prophet!”

THE TEST

It was decided to put the matter to the test. So fifty sheep were inoculated with anthrax, twenty-five having first been vaccinated.

“The twenty-five unvaccinated will perish, the twenty-five vaccinated will survive,” Pasteur affirmed.

Nevertheless during the next few days, his wife, his friends and his followers experienced the greatest anxiety. Should the test fail much of his life-work would be brought to nought. But on the final day twenty-four of the unvaccinated sheep lay dead; all the vaccinated sheep were in perfect health!

FAME

Pasteur was the most famous man in France. He was awarded an annuity by a grateful government and the Grand Cordon of the Legion of Honour. At this supreme moment at a ceremony given in his honour he seized the opportunity to pay public homage to his parents with the words:

“O my father and mother, my dear departed, who lived so humbly in your little dwelling- I owe everything to you. . . .”

Invited to occupy the place of honour in an international medical congress in London, he was greeted with such applause that in bewilderment he looked about him, saying:

“It must be the Prince of Wales arriving?”

“Why no,” replied the president of the congress beaming at him, “it is you the whole world is acclaiming.”

SURGERY WITHOUT TERROR

He received a tribute which must have caused him great happiness from the famous surgeon, Lord Lister: “Truly there does not exist in the world any individual to whom the medical sciences owe more than they do to you. . . . Thanks to you, surgery has undergone a complete revolution which has deprived it of its terrors and has extended almost without limit its efficacious power.”

Yet Louis Pasteur was to achieve yet another outstanding success. It was in 1880, at the age of fifty-eight, that he began his work on that terrible disease, hydrophobia. The result, the first preventive immunization of that little Alsatian boy through inoculation, has already been described. Of the following 350 patients brought to him only one, who arrived too late, died.

The Pasteur Institute for the research of infectious disease and microbic work was erected by a proud nation, in 1888. Louis Pasteur entered it as director, an ageing man, dragging his left leg, ill and worn out with his arduous work. He was to make one further discovery, perhaps in the eyes of God his greatest. Throughout his life he had remained a virtuous man of simple faith respecting but not accepting the Catholic faith of his forefathers. Yet from his knowledge of the past he knew full well that Catholicism was no bar to scientific research. For in every field of science, be it chemistry, physics, geology, astronomy, ethnology, anthropology or the biological sciences, eminent Catholic scientists—many of them priests—had been renowned for their discoveries. Among them stood forth such names as Linacre (a priest), founder of the Royal College of Physicians, Muller, the physiologist, Mendel (an abbot), Latrielle, the entomologist (a priest), Ampere, Coulomb and Volta, pioneers in electricity, Sensen (a bishop), founder of geology, Copernicus (a canon), a noted astronomer, and so on.

Gradually, however, Louis Pasteur was being brought towards the goal. Meeting as he must have done men who were both scientists and practising Catholics, talking and listening to a certain Dominican priest Pere Didon, who had united his daughter, Marie-Louise- an ardent Catholic- in marriage to Rene Vallery-Radot, in 1879, and having ever before his eyes the faith as practised by his beloved wife, he finally agreed to her wish that he should discuss the matter with his daughter’s Dominican director, Pere Boulanger.

THE RELIGIOUS IDEAL

In the past Louis Pasteur had summed up his appreciation of the grandeur of the religious ideal by those words which were later to be inscribed on his tomb:

“Happy is he who carries within himself a deity, an ideal of beauty, and who obeys its commands; the ideal of art, the ideal of science, the ideal of patriotism, the ideal of the virtues of the Gospel.”

Now the ageing man became aware not of a deity, a vague idea of God as a spirit, but of Jesus Christ, very God of very God, the Way, the Truth and the Life.

Having made this great discovery Louis Pasteur made his submission to the Holy Catholic Apostolic Church into which he had been baptized, receiving from the hands of Pere Boulanger the Body of his Lord. God had revealed to this great scientist the wonderful secrets of His creation, now He had given him Himself. It was Easter, April 15th, 1895.

FINALE

Six months later, in his seventy-fourth year, having received the Last Sacraments, Louis Pasteur passed away. He was laid to rest in a beautiful monument- which lies in the crypt of the Pasteur Institute- adorned with the inscription of his words on “the ideal” and the figures of Faith, Hope, Charity and Science with the Holy Spirit represented as a dove descending from above. Each year to mark his anniversary a Mass is offered up in the crypt.

So we have Louis Pasteur, a simple country boy from a humble home who loved his family and who was not- so it would seem- particularly clever, fulfilling the destiny ordained for him, that of one of the great benefactors of mankind.

Nihil Obstat:

BERNARD O’CONNOR, Diocesan Censor.

Imprimatur:

@ JUSTIN D. SIMONDS, Archbishop of Melbourne.

31–12–1966.

Love Is Calling

REV. ALBERT POWER, S.J

INDEX

A Catholic priest is a man empowered by Jesus Christ to offer to God the Sacrifice of the New Law, the Sacrifice of the Eucharist. Other wonderful Powers, too, are conferred at Ordination-such as the power to forgive sins; but the right to offer Sacrifice it is that constitutes a priest. He is a public minister, to whom authority is given to act as representative of the community, and, in its name, to offer to God the highest act of worship possible to man. On the priest, therefore, on his fidelity to duty, depends the existence of the Eucharist. On him, too, depends the administration of the other Sacraments.

But Christ also commissioned His Apostles -the first Catholic priests-to preach and so propagate His doctrine in the world. Within fifty or sixty years after Christ’s death His oral teaching was, under divine inspiration, committed to writing; and those writings, along with the Old Testament, constitute the text book used by the Church in instructing her children. That text book priests, as preachers, must know thoroughly. Hence, the long years of preparation in the seminary devoted to the study of theology, which is simply the scientific exposition of Christ’s doctrine, as contained in the Bible.

The priesthood, as such, is a social institution which exists primarily for the welfare of others -for the saving and perfecting of souls through the application of the supernatural means provided by Jesus Christ.

Religious life, on the other hand, has as its immediate end-primarily at least-the salvation and perfection of the individual; it is an organisation intended to enable men and women to live the Christian life as perfectly as possible.

A priest may, of course, be also a religious; but the priesthood, as such, does not necessarily demand the practice of all the evangelical counsels (though in the Western Church celibacy is obligatory, and priests take a solemn vow of chastity). But religious life consists essentially in the public profession of the counsels of Poverty, Chastity, and Obedience.

THE PRIEST’S WORK

This, however, does not mean that less stress is to be laid on the qualities and virtues required in a priest. He is Christ’s public official, destined to fulfil duties for the spiritual welfare of the community.

For the proper discharge of these duties, qualities -natural and supernatural-are required that may not be necessary in those who live the retired life, say, of a Carthusian monk. A priest living in the midst of the world may be called upon to exercise a far higher degree of virtue, in order to be faithful to his duty, than those who serve God in a state more sheltered from temptation. Moreover, since it is his vocation to preach God’s Word, to direct the conscience of his flock, to advise them in their difficulties, to strengthen and encourage them in their struggle against sin, he must be equipped with the knowledge, prudence, experience, and tact without which such functions cannot be discharged. He has to mix with people of every rank of society-must be courteous to all, sympathetic with suffering, gentle with the weak, firm in correcting the sinner, full of mercy to the fallen. He must be a man of heroic self-sacrifice; for his duty requires that he be ready at any moment, day or night, to administer to the spiritual wants of his people, especially when death approaches.

It is a high and holy and noble vocation; it gives a man endless opportunities for practising -sometimes in a heroic degree-charity to his fellows.

The simplest, and yet the most overwhelming, proof of the sublime dignity of the priesthood is the fact that, of all possible callings, it was that followed by Christ Himself. He is the first Priest of the New Law, and our priesthood is simply a sharing of His. The powers and prerogatives of the Catholic priest are, indeed, astounding, but they are explained by the fact that he is Christ’s mouthpiece and representative. Just as the ambassador of a great empire, though in himself and as a private individual he may be of little consequence, still has the whole weight of that empire’s authority behind him when he acts as ambassador; so with the priest.

In himself he is a weak, fallible mortal, like other men, but when he pronounces the words of Consecration or the words of Absolution he speaks with the authority of God Himself.

ENCOURAGING VOCATIONS

Now, it is clearly our duty to do all we can to help in fostering and developing vocations-both to the priesthood and to religious life-in children and young people under our care. The success of the Church depends on the number and fervour of her priests and religious. Jesus calls them the salt of the earth. Just as salt preserves food from decay, so, by aiming at a life of holiness, and by making available to others the supernatural means of sanctification provided by Christ, priests and religious help to check the tendency to corruption which is inherent in fallen human nature.

It is true that on every man and woman lies this duty of resisting moral decay and sin, and anyone living a practical, Catholic life does actually and effectively promote this health-giving process. But, still, just as there are doctors and nurses specially devoted to safeguarding the public health, even though each individual has his own personal duty in the matter, so, in the spiritual world, there must be those who specially concentrate on the work of promoting the health of the soul.

And what a splendid purpose in life it is! And how many more would take up the toilsome work of priest or Brother or nun, if only they understood better the excellence and nobility of the calling! In every human heart, not utterly perverted by self-indulgence and sin, there exists a longing after higher things; as is evidenced by the splendid response made when a sudden call to heroic sacrifice is made-for example, in time of war.

St. John Bosco said: “I know young people well; a large proportion of them have, in germ, the vocation to a higher life.” That germ it is our duty to develop. And at no time was it more urgent than today, when such wonderful opportunities are opening up for the conversion of heathen nations.

The Catholic Church is at a turning point in her career. Mankind is being gradually linked up into a closer union by new methods of rapid transit and communication, and the barriers that hitherto walled off the uncivilised peoples of the globe are being broken down.

Unexampled opportunities for disseminating knowledge are placed at the disposal of all who care to make use of them. The enemies of Christianity are making use of them with restless energy, to attack our religion; and the Catholic Church needs a much larger and more energetic band of fire-fighters to check the progress of the conflagration of evil doctrines and evil practices at present sweeping the world and threatening to engulf our civilisation.

Those fighters are chiefly Priests, Brothers and Nuns and we should strain every nerve to recruit their ranks, which, especially in certain European countries, have been sadly depleted since the war. Catholic parents should be led to consider it their greatest honour and privilege to devote to the service of God and the welfare of society one or more of their children. In no nobler way can they contribute to the extension of God’s Kingdom on earth.

LOVER’S TOKEN

The Eucharist is Christ’s most perfect gift-the special means He has devised to keep the members of His Church bound together by ties of love, and make us all His blood relations, as it were, and members of His family. Through this Gift we feed on His own Body and Blood, and are incorporated with Him, nourished by Him, united to Him, and, through Him, to all the other members of His vast household. I think that one of the special results of Eucharistic Congresses has been to bring home to outsiders with startling force the unity of Catholic Faith in the Eucharist. They see devout men and women from various nations assemble together to make a public act of faith in the Real Presence, and, as they witness the reverence, the union of mind, the harmony in worship of the vast multitudes, they seem to grasp more firmly the great central fact that the Eucharist is the binding force of Catholic unity; that Christ’s Blood it is that cements together so many millions of human souls into one great family of believers.

Each one of these worshippers of Christ has his own cares and anxieties; his own views, interests, tastes, difficulties, and repugnances-for the Catholic Church is a congregation of ordinary, fallible, faulty human beings. Yet, whatever else they may differ about, with regard to the deepest things of the mind-the things of Faith, the things of most consequence for time and eternity-they are all welded together, as by some mighty force, into an absolutely united whole.

Could one have a more striking proof of the marvellous effects of the Eucharist on man’s interior life? The unity of Catholic belief proclaims eloquently and convincingly that the Master is at home and ruling His household.

And, as one watches such a Congress, the mind travels back musingly over the Eucharistic story of the past nineteen centuries. To the inward eye it is not merely the men and women of the twentieth century that are marching along, publicly proclaiming their faith in Christ’s Presence. The modern pageant is but a part of a vaster procession that has been moving slowly onward ever since Christ lived-men and women all united in the same loving worship, all bowing in reverence to the same Eucharistic Presence. In that throng you behold, with reverent mien and faces aflame with loving adoration, all the fervent worshippers and zealous defenders of the Eucharist of all the centuries.

You listen to the hymns that were chanted in Rome 600 years ago, at the first Corpus Christi procession, the marvellously beautiful hymns of St. Thomas Aquinas they are ringing today in our streets and churches-the same glorious words rising up from Catholic hearts to express the same living faith in the same Eucharistic Presence.

And St. Thomas Aquinas is but one link in the chain. He was looking back over a thousand years of crowded Church life, and was feeding his soul on the Eucharistic teachings of the Doctors and Fathers of the early centuries. He joined hands with St. John Chrysostom, with St. Cyril of Jerusalem, with St. Ambrose of Milan, St. Augustine of Hippo, with all the Catholic teachers and believers of those far-off days, when Roman emperors still ruled the world before the great barbarian invasions had overwhelmed civilisation; when modern nations were as yet in the making, and the world was vastly different from what it is today. Very little remains now to tell the tale of those ancient times. But one thing does survive, and survives as vigorous and youthful today as it was in the days of Diocletian or Constantine-one tremendous force remains unshaken by all the shocks of wars and revolution-namely, Catholic belief in the Eucharist.

Like a golden chain, Catholic faith in Christ’s Presence unites the new world with the old, the worshippers of Sydney or Melbourne with the martyrs of the Colosseum; Catholics of the twentieth century chanting High Mass in a great basilica, with Catholics of the third century stealing to the Catacombs to assist in secret at the same Holy Sacrifice, offered in the same words, by the same Catholic priesthood.

OMNIPOTENT WORDS

“This is My Body; this is My Blood.” Half a dozen words, whispered softly in a supper room in far-off Jerusalem on the eve of the great national festival nearly two thousand years ago. And, lo! these words have never ceased echoing in the world ever since! There are no other human words of which we are absolutely sure that all day and all night long they are ceaselessly repeated by men’s lips. For you are aware that at each moment the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass is being offered up in various parts of the world by Catholic priests: “This is My Body; this is My Blood.” And, behold; they are creative words, for they have changed the face of the earth. Incessantly they are calling into being that Divine Gift that has more powerfully affected man’s destiny than any other gift of God.

Those omnipotent words opened up a new era in the history of mankind; they marked the setting up of a new Throne, the founding of a new Kingdom, the opening of a new Royal Palace, whence the greatest of Kings would rule His loyal and loving subjects for all time to come. And all the splendid pageantry of Church liturgy, the pomp and ceremony of her festivals, the majesty of her myriad cathedrals, the imposing grandeur of her congresses-all are but the outward expression of Catholic devotion and loyalty to Christ the King on His Eucharistic Throne.

CHRIST MUST RULE

Christ must rule. “The Lord God shall give unto Him the throne of David, His Father, and He shall reign in the house of Jacob forever, and of His Kingdom there shall be no end.” Christ must rule, but His rule is not one of force or violence; it is one of love. He has come to make you enamoured of His Divine beauty, to steal your heart; and, since His majesty as God would overwhelm you, He wraps it round with the mysterious darkness of the Eucharist. He comes in disguise, hidden beneath the sacramental veils.

The Eucharist, then, is Christ’s Lover’s Gift -namely, Himself. But it is for you to accept and make use of the Gift. He will not force Himself upon you, just as He did not force His company on people when on earth. He visited Martha and Mary very willingly at Bethania, because He was sure of a loving welcome there. He bade Zaccheus come down quickly from the sycamore tree to receive Him, saying: “This day I must abide in your house.” But He already knew the eagerness of Zaccheus, and that his heart was prepared to receive Him. He joined the two despondent disciples on the road to Emmaus, because they were sad at heart and bewailing His death, and He knew that, if He spoke words of comfort, He would be very acceptable to them.

TO BE MY FRIEND

Man is a social being, and finds his chief happiness in social-that is, intellectual and friendly-intercourse with his fellow-creatures. The whole world of art, music and literature is the outcome of this craving of man’s nature for companionship. Every poem, every musical composition, every painting or sculptured statue, is an effort to convey as vividly as possible to sympathetic minds the artist’s feelings, thoughts, experiences, aspirations, convictions.

Hence, man’s worst punishment is enforced solitude. This the governors of prisons well know. At Port Arthur, in Tasmania, the business of cutting off prisoners from all intercourse with other human beings was carried out with diabolical ingenuity; and the normal result of the treatment was that men went mad-their minds wrecked by the intolerable loneliness and solitude.

Jesus knows that we cannot live without companionship. During His life on earth He Himself constantly sought the society of other men, chose friends, and kept them near Him, except during special seasons of prayer-such as the forty days in the desert. He came to reveal the fact that we are created for companionship-the companionship, namely, of God Himself. God wishes to have us as His friends in heaven, enjoying His Presence and conversation forever. If we fail to reach this, then our lot will be the eternal solitude of hell. But that appalling fate can be ours only if we decisively, deliberately, and finally reject God’s offer of friendship.

A LOVING WELCOME

A loving welcome-that is what He wants! How human He is, and how like ourselves! Is there anything can chill and freeze and torture the heart like coldness and indifference on the part of those who ought to show us love? And, on the other hand, how we expand under the sunshine of friendship, affection, and a warm welcome!

Well, let me say it reverently, so it is with Jesus. He, too, expands in the sunshine of our affection; He unfolds His plans to us; tells us His secrets, lets us taste the comfort and consolation and sweetness which words falling from His lips must surely be weighted with, and so He fills us with the fragrance of His Divine Presence.

And, by making good use of this Sacrament and Sacrifice, O priests of God, you will join with the sacred company of His special friends. And Jesus will enter into the dwelling-place of your soul as willingly as He entered the happy abode of Martha and Mary at Bethania; He will call to you, as to Zaccheus, to come down quickly and give Him entertainment, and, when you are walking, sad at heart, along the road of life, which has its particular difficulties for priests, Jesus will join you and speak words of comfort to you and, after His visit, you will cry out, like tiie disciples: “Was not our heart burning within us whilst He spoke in the way and opened to us the Scriptures?”

Jesus came to be my Friend. A perfect friend is one who loves you and is solicitous for your welfare; one who supports your weakness, comforts you in sorrow, advises you in doubt, aids you in distress; one who influences you for good, is indulgent to your faults, yet tries to correct them. In a word, he is to you a source of light and strength, courage and consolation. Such a friend is not easily found. One may have many acquaintances, comrades, chums even, yet not one friend, perhaps, properly so called.

Jesus, the Son of God, came to be our Friend in the highest and most perfect sense of the word. He said to His Mother when she found Him in the Temple: “Did you not know that I must be about My Father’s business?” Now, the business which Christ’s Father sent Him into the world to transact was the conversion of sinners. “They that are in health need not a physician, but they that are sick . . . I am not come to call the just, but sinners.”(Matt. ix., 12–13.) And, when sharing His own work with the Apostles, He said: “I will make you fishers of men.”

Jesus Christ is the Master-Fisherman, and the bait He uses to attract His prey is the bait of Love.

He gives palpable and overwhelming proof of His interest in, and affection for, us; His anxiety for our welfare; His desire to enjoy our friendship. And the proof He offers is one recognised by all as the acid test of friendship-viz., self-sacrifice for the sake of the beloved.

The Catholic Church strives to keep the evidence of Christ’s friendship ever vividly and convincingly before the eyes of mankind. The central theme of her preaching is God’s love for us, manifested in the Incarnation. By coming as Man, Jesus annihilated the difference between Creator and creature. Now that He is on a level with us, we may enjoy His friendship without being dazzled and terrified by the majesty of His Divinity.

A TWOFOLD GIFT

In order to carry out this plan (of being our friend), not only for those who lived with Him in Palestine, but for all generations to come, He founded His Church and instituted the Eucharist.

In two ways Jesus, moved by love for His fellow-men, wished to influence each of us and prepare us for heaven: first, by teaching us His doctrines, ideas, and principles; in other words, by filling our souls with the light of Truth. To secure this result He instituted His teaching Church. From the Church we learn all the saving truths committed to her keeping by Jesus for our instruction. Secondly, by coming into personal contact with each of us in Holy Communion. By those visits He makes us realise and try to live according to the doctrines taught by His Church. He strengthens our Faith, Hope and Charity; moves us to the practice of every virtue, and thus cements more firmly the bonds of friendships that link us to Him-the bonds whereby He hopes to hold us as His own forever. Holy Communion, therefore, is the Sacrament of Divine Friendship.

THE TRUMPET CALL

It happened before the Battle of Eylau, in 1807. Napoleon was driving the Russians before him as he moved forward towards the town of Eylau, when he found himself held up near Landsberg by a strong force of Russian infantry, posted in a defile, with several pieces of cannon in front. They were separated from the French by a deep ravine, crossed by a narrow bridge. Napoleon ordered a body of light hussars to cross the bridge and attack. They did so, but were met by such well-directed fire that they beat a hasty retreat. Napoleon then ordered a body of dragoons to advance and break the Russian square. They also failed. Then the cuirassiers were told to advance. These were the heaviest armed troops in the army. Both horses and riders were encased in heavy plates of steel armour, so that when they charged at full speed the impetus was terrific. The General in Command, d’Hautpoul, was an enthusiastic admirer of Napoleon, and to be thus entrusted with a special commission was the most prized of distinctions.

The cuirassiers charged so furiously that the Russian lines were broken, the square swept away, and the road cleared for Napoleon’s advance. When General d’Hautpoul rode up to the Emperor to report, Napoleon did a very unusual thing. He dismounted and embraced him before the whole division. Quite overcome by this extraordinary work of the Emperor’s gratitude and approval, the general, when he had recovered a little, drew himself up, saluted, and spoke thus: “Sire, there is only one way in which I can show my appreciation of the honour you have conferred upon me today: I must die for your Majesty.” Next day he rode into the thickest of the fight at Eylau and fell mortally wounded.

HEROISM

Think of what it meant for a Commander-in-Chief to know he had men like that serving him! With what confidence he issued orders when he knew his followers were longing to prove their devotion by dying for him! It seems extraordinary that men should set so little store on life as to be ready to fling it away like a bauble for a beloved leader; yet that is what the human heart is capable of. And experience has proved that, when a great call comes which stirs men’s souls deeply, this spirit of self-sacrifice leaps to life, and men and women go smiling to death for the sake of victory.

Jesus Christ knew this, and He came to appeal to this quality in the human soul. He came to wake to living flame this fire of whole-hearted devotion and loyalty; and the story of the Catholic Church during the past nineteen centuries bears witness to the success of His appeal. For the Catholic Church subsists age after age, full of life and energy, in the midst of a hostile world, just because of that fire that is kept ever blazing in the hearts of her children by Christ’s unique appeal. For His appeal is not merely that of the best and greatest, the wisest and most glorious Leader and Captain the world has ever seen, fighting for the noblest cause it has ever been given to men to fight for-it is all that, too, but it is infinitely more. For, through Christ’s lips, God Himself is stooping to ask His creatures for service.

WHAT FEEDS THE FLAME?

Read the lives of saints, who were most remarkable for heroic charity-SS. Dominic, Francis Xavier, Peter Claver,

Vincent de Paul, Alphonsus Liguori; study the records of the Sisters of Charity, the Sisters of Mercy, and innumerable other Orders of men and women who give up life’s comforts and pleasures to spend themselves in the service of the poor, the sick, the wretched, the outcast. Read the story of Father Damien, who went into exile among the Molokai lepers, and became himself a leper, in order to help these unfortunate wrecks of humanity; contemplate a little the inexhaustible story of Catholic heroism in the cause of charity all down the ages, and ask yourself the question: “What feeds this flame?” What is the source of that intense devotion to the poor and suffering which is characteristic of the Catholic Church in all ages? The answer is: “The enthusiasm, the wish to serve, kindled in the souls of His friends by Christ’s Call, by the appeal of His teaching, His life and example. Their work is the carrying out in actual practice of the high and generous resolve which was formed in their souls when they answered His summons and swore allegiance to Him, and promised to follow Him faithfully till death.”

CO-OPERATING WITH GOD

One of the glorious secrets which Jesus Christ came to communicate to mankind-a secret of overwhelming importance-is that God has definite work for each of us to do; that He is asking each of us to co-operate with Him to bring about certain supernatural results which He is anxious to secure. At first, perhaps, one may be inclined to cry out incredulously: “How can God need MY help for anything whatsoever? Is He not omnipotent? Is it not derogatory to His power and majesty to speak of Him as needing our help to accomplish His purposes?”

Yes, God is omnipotent, but, by His own free choice, He has brought about a state of things in which He needs OUR help and OUR co-operation so urgently and essentially that, if we fail Him, if we refuse our help (as we may), the work will not be done, and His plans to that extent frustrated. If you ask, “How can this be?,” the answer is: “God has bestowed upon man the gift of Free Will, and He wishes to leave to man the full and unhindered exercise of that marvellous faculty. It is our FREE service that God wishes to have. He could necessitate us to love Him, but then our love would not be the result of our own free choice. So that it is true to say that each of us, weak and wretched though we be, has in his keeping a gift which God wants, which we can refuse to give Him if we choose, and which, if we refuse, God cannot force us to bestow upon Him-namely, the gift of our free acts of love and service.”

Those acts constitute an empire over which you are absolute ruler. God will assist you by His Grace. He will give you all necessary interior helps and encouragement, but He leaves your will free. YOU must choose. He will not choose for you.

YOU INFLUENCE OTHERS

For it is evident that we can, and do, influence others, and direct them in their choices on the road of life by our work, by our example, by our advice. And God wants us to exercise that influence upon HIS side in the daily struggle that constitutes life.

The most powerful king or general that ever lived is dependent upon his army for success. Alexander, Hannibal, Caesar, Napoleon were helpless if deserted by their soldiers.

So with Christ. Although He is God, still it is as Man He is carrying on His campaign in this world; making use of human instruments, relying in a human way on the fidelity, the loyalty, the courage, the endurance, the skill of His soldiers for the success of His work.

So that the important thing to realise is that I, personally and individually, am invited by Christ to take a share in that work. He has a special portion allotted to me, and is waiting eagerly to see if I will answer His call and make that use of my life which He intended when He brought me into existence.

THE CRISIS

The unceasing acts of reverence and adoration offered to Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament, which constitute the liturgical life of the Church, and which all her children are summoned to participate in at least once a week-those acts are forever renewing the faith of Catholics in the divinity of Christ.

Why does the Church accept the doctrine of the Eucharist? On the Word of Christ. Apart from His statements, she has no other proof for it. Why does she accept Christ’s words so implicitly? Because she knows He is God, and cannot err or deceive us.

Christ Himself made acceptance of His Eucharistic teaching a test of discipleship -a test of the extent to which men were ready to acknowledge His authority and believe in His Divine power. At Capharnaum, a year before His death, He repeatedly, emphatically, and insistently declared that all who wish to be saved must-in some mysterious, and yet unexplained, way-eat of His Flesh and drink of His Blood. People loudly voiced their disapproval of such teaching as wholly incomprehensible and absurd, much after the fashion of modern sceptics and unbelievers. Many even of His disciples were shocked, and cried out: “This is a difficult saying. Who can accept it?” And they turned away and walked no more with Him. Then Jesus spoke to His twelve chosen Apostles, and said, in very decided tones: “Will you also go away?”

It was a crisis in the world’s history. The moment had come to accept or reject Christ’s Eucharistic doctrine. He seems to say: “This doctrine is difficult, I admit. But remember that all power is given to Me in heaven and on earth. I will make good My promise, provided you accept My teaching in simple faith and trust.”

And then from the lips of Peter came the first act of faith in this new revelation: “Lord, to whom shall we go? Thou hast the words of eternal life; and we have believed and have known that Thou art Christ, the Son of God.”

At that moment, we may say, the Eucharistic Catholic Church sprang into being. That marvellous belief in the Real Presence of Jesus Christ in the Eucharist had begun, which was to transform the world, and has sustained the souls of Christ’s friends ever since.

ACTS OF FAITH

Why did Peter accept this strange, mysterious teaching about eating Christ’s Flesh and drinking His Blood? Simply on Christ’s Word; and, in accepting it, he was making a profound act of faith in Christ’s divinity.

And why do Catholics of the twentieth century reiterate that belief? Why do they kneel in adoration before the altar and receive the Eucharist with such unhesitating conviction that they thereby partake of Christ’s Flesh and Blood? Just for the same reason; because-they know that Christ is God, and accept His Word as guarantee for the reality and truth of this great Mystery.

You see, then, how, by His Presence in our midst, Jesus is ever stirring us up to acts of faith in the saving doctrine of His divinity.

Now, the part a priest is called upon to play in carrying out this Divine plan may be compared to St. Joseph’s duties as Foster-father of Jesus.

ST. JOSEPH’S OFFICE

St. Joseph was appointed guardian of the Divine Child. Entrusted with the bodily welfare of Jesus, His duty was to support Him, to earn money to buy Him food and drink, to protect Him when danger threatened, to fulfil towards Him all the duties of an earthly father.

The Catholic priest holds a similar position of trust. He, too, has charge of Christ’s Body. His duty, also, is to protect It from attack; not merely from physical violence, but the far more deadly onslaught of those who deny His Presence or insult it. Jesus has come into the world (His own world, which was made by Him), not as a Conqueror, but as a Visitor, asking for hospitality. The only force He uses to effect an entrance is that of Love. It was so He came to Mary. His messenger, Gabriel, asked her for hospitality, and awaited her consent to receive Him. So, too, when Joseph, in sore doubt, thought of putting away Mary, the heavenly messenger invited him to receive her as his wife, on the ground that she was the Mother of a Divine Child; and it was as such-namely, as being Mother by Divine interposition of a Son that was God Himself-that Joseph accepted her; and, of course, in doing so, in taking over the responsibility of being her husband, he accepted also the responsibility of providing for her Child. It required a strong act of faith to believe this astounding message, it needed heroic confidence to take up such a burden; but, by the special grace of God, Joseph’s soul was strong in both these virtues. Thus, then, Jesus came as a Guest, asking for shelter and hospitality from Mary and Joseph.

THE PRIEST’S VOCATION

So, too, He comes to the priest. A vocation to the priesthood is like the angel’s message to St. Joseph. Along with the assurance of the miraculous Presence of the God-Man under the Sacramental Species which faith gives, there comes an invitation to undertake the responsibility of guarding that Presence during the rest of the priest’s life on earth. And the qualities most essential for success in carrying out this work are those which are so prominent in St. Joseph-Faith and Confidence. It is a supernatural office, and only by keeping the supernatural point of view ever uppermost-that is by walking always by faith-can a priest fulfil his duty. And only by practising heroic confidence in God can he persevere in it, in spite of every obstacle.

Joseph, carrying the Divine Babe in his arms, to save Him for mankind, is a symbol of the priest carrying the Body of Jesus, pressed to his heart, in order to give Him to those in need of Him.

Nihil Obstat:

J. Donovan,

Censor Deputatus.

Imprimatur:

@ D. Mannix,

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis.

********

Love Thy Neighbour

BY MARY FOSTER

INDEX

MUTUAL CHARITY

1.-THOU SHALT LOVE THY NEIGHBOUR AS THYSELF

Is it not remarkable that seven of the Ten Commandments relate directly to my relations with my fellowmen? I am to honour and obey my parents and lawful superiors; I am to respect the character, the person and the worldly goods of my neighbour. That is the summary of my duties to others. And Our Lord epitomises the Ten Commandments in the two great Precepts of the Law ―Thou shalt love the Lord thy God . . . and thy neighbour as thyself,‖ ―Love,‖ says St. Paul, ―is the fulfilling of the law.‖

It is interesting to compare the accounts given by SS. Matthew, Mark and Luke of the occasion upon which Our Lord quoted the Law as written in the Book of Leviticus. He had ―not come to destroy the law, but to fulfil it.‖ And He wished to point out especially two essential duties-those to God and those to our fellowmen.

St. Matthew, before relating the incident I am about to consider, says: ―The multitudes were in admiration at His doctrine. But the Pharisees, hearing that He had silenced the Sadducees, came together, and one of them, a doctor of the law, asked Him, tempting Him: ‗Master, which is the greatest Commandment of the law?’ Jesus said to him: ‗Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with thy whole heart and with thy whole soul and with thy whole mind! This is the greatest and the first Commandment. And the second is like to this: Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself. On these two commandments dependeth the whole law and the prophets.’‖

St. Mark’s account reads: ―And there came one of the scribes that had heard the m reasoning together; and, seeing that He had answered well, asked Him which was the first Commandment of all. And Jesus said: ―Thou shalt love thy God . . . and thy neighbour as thyself. There is no other commandment greater than these. And the scribe said to Him: Well, Master, Thou hast said in truth that there is one God . . . and that He should be loved with the whole heart . . . and to love one’s neighbour as one’s self is a greater thing than all holocausts and sacrifices. And Jesus, seeing that he had answered wisely, said to him: Thou art not far from the kingdom of God.‖

St. Luke says: ―A certain lawyer stood up, tempting Him, saying: Master, what must I do to possess eternal life? But He said to him: What is written in the law: How readest thou? He, answering said: Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with thy whole heart and thy neighbour as thyself. And He said to him: Thou hast answered right. This do; and thou shalt live. But he, willing to justify himself, said to Jesus: And who is my neighbour?‖

A very important question, receiving a reply which can leave no possible doubt as to who my neighbour is. For now follows the Parable of the Good Samaritan; and, by its teaching, I learn that all mankind are my neighbours-from my closest friend to the stranger I pass heedlessly by.

―Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself.‖ Our Lord did not merely say: ―Thou shalt love thy neighbour‖; but: ―Thou shalt love thy neighbour as (thou dost love) thyself.‖

How do I love myself ?

Well, I am careful of my creature comforts in the first place. I cherish my body, I clothe it becomingly, I nourish it and keep it in good health. I like to have a pleasant time. I pick out the easiest way to tread. I am self-indulgent. I have a great respect for my own opinion. I am very touchy about what others think and say of me, always on the look out for slights, ready to resent unkindness and criticism. I have a proper pride in my reputation, I am jealous of my good name; if it is called in question, I flare up indignantly. If I am maligned, I give back as good as I get; if I am gossiped about, I soon tell the tale-bearers what I think about them. I take good care that my actions will not be misrepresented, I seek praise when I have done well. I love to be sought after, to be popular and admired. Yes, I have a great affection for myself, and I am ready to go to any amount of trouble to secure my personal safety and well-being.

I must consider my neighbour’s temporal well-being, for I am concerned about my own. I may not turn a deaf ear to the cry of the poor. If I take the easier path, I must move aside a little and let my neighbour share it with me. If I avoid trouble, I must not put it upon another. If I am touchy about my good name, resentful of malice and criticism, I must resent and put a stop to my unkind chattering about my fellows. Instead of tearing the character of absent persons to pieces, I must defend them, as I should wish them to defend me in my absence. If a friend of mine does well, I must seek to be the first to say; ―Well done.‖ I must crush that mean spirit of jealousy in my heart. If I admire my own qualities so much, surely I will discover many more to esteem in others. As I am ready to take infinite trouble for myself, 1 must be prepared to take it for my fellow creatures-that it, if I really wish to regulate my life by the great Precept.

In short, I must love my neighbour as myself; and it looks as if the more I love myself, the more I must love my neighbour.

But how do I really follow my Saviour’s command ? I hardly follow it at all. I indulge in unkind conversation, gossip, harsh criticism; I judge rashly, I look at the worst side; I bear tales, I give scandal.

And I tell myself that I have ―nothing to say‖ when I go to Confession! Let me give my conscience a bit of examination on these points.

2.-ORDINARY CONVERSATION

The ordinary conversation of the average person is not interesting. I travel by train and ‗bus; people are talking on all sides. I walk down the street; stray sentences catch my ear. I sit in a restaurant; a perfect babel of conversation rises everywhere.

What are people talking about? It might be instructive to ―listen in.‖

Sometimes about money, how someone has made a good bargain, how another has been ―done,‖ perhaps the usual grumble about expenses and high prices. Others discuss ailments and operations; others, again, the domestic problem, the scarcity of help in the home, the unsatisfactory maid, the troublesome employee.

Practically always people are discussing their fellow creatures. What is my chief topic of conversation? Is it about my neighbour? And, if so, is it upon their best side that I prefer to dwell?

I am afraid that I look upon unkind talk as a very minor venial sin; I do not bother about the sharp criticism and uncharitable remarks I continually make. I may not intend to be deliberately unkind, but my whole attitude to my neighbours is censorious -trying to catch them out in some fault, hastily summing up my own idea of their actions. I do not set out to find good, rather am I ready to pounce upon any evil I can find in others-needless to say, not in myself.

If I submitted my own conscience to as searching a scrutiny as that to which I subject the characters of even my dearest friends, my Confessions would be far more thorough. This habit of constant carping, always saying the worst of my acquaintances, harshly condemning whatever they do, is a sin which does my own character a great deal of harm. It leaves me with a smug feeling of satisfaction that I am not as others-like the Pharisee of the Parable. It makes me hard: there is no pity in my heart for the weaknesses of my fellows.

Have I no weaknesses of my own? I carefully cover them up, and fancy that no one notices them. I don’t admit them even to myself, I am so busy thinking of So-andSo’s failings.

Censoriousness leads me to be unfair in my judgement: it makes me biased.

It weakens my love of God. How can I feel any warmth of devotion when I am despising my fellow creatures: the work of my Creator’s Hands?

How common is this sin of unkind talk, how frequent the cruel gossip, the unjust criticism. How I sin by my tongue-that tongue which was given me with which to converse happily with others, to sing the praises of my God. Above all, that tongue upon which my Saviour Himself so often rests.

I am afraid my ordinary conversation is about my neighbour, and it is neither kind nor gentle. The world applauds a sharp wit, the smart criticism, and I like to please the world. When people laugh at my spiteful humour and little biting remarks, I am pleased.

Why do I look for the worst in people? IfI went to buy groceries, I wouldn’t ask for inferior goods: I would look for the best.

And if I know something unpleasant in the character of another, why do I drag it out and chatter over it and tear it to pieces like a dog with a savoury bone?

Isn’t there something radically wrong in myself? My mind must be empty if I can’t discuss anything but the foibles of those about me. Is there nothing more interesting to talk about?

We all desire to be loved; but the bitter-tongued critic, the tale-bearer, cannot be popular, however he may cause amusement for the time being.

I know how I shrink from criticism: how carefully I avoid those who have sharp cruel tongues.

Am I one of those who never have anything good to say of their neighbour? Maybe I am too quick to blame, too slow to praise, too ready to join in unkind talk, too prompt to say: ―I told you so.‖

Do I look upon the idle word as a pebble cast heedlessly into the pond? It scarcely disturbs the surface, but if I watch I see the circles widen and widen over the circumference of the water till the whole is troubled. So an unkind word, idly whispered, may spread its mischief into the consciousness of others, until it is exaggerated and twisted as the images in the water are distorted by its movement.

If I reflect the love of God in the mirror of my soul, my thoughts will be kindly and will lead to kindly speech and charitable conversation.

3.-CRITICISM

I pride myself upon my intuition, I boast that I can sum up a character swiftly. If I meet new acquaintances, I can make a very shrewd guess at .their qualities. I am not deceived by an agreeable exterior; no one can take me in; I see through all that veneer.

And what do I see? Something far from pleasing, of course, I pick out the faults which no one else ever discovered: I could tell at once that Soand So wasn’t to be trusted, I knew very well that someone else wasn’t half as clever as he was made out to be. I am proud of my shrewdness, and I am quite as bad (if not worse) as any Pharisee. For, if I am honest, I shall realize that my criticism of the characters of others nearly always tends to be unkind. Instinctively, I look for the worst: not for the best.

I am first rate at ―damning with faint praise.‖ I regard the efforts of others with a tolerant smile at best. I am only too willing to point out how things could be improved. If I don’t exactly say so, I imply it.

I am never satisfied with the work done- how much better I could have done- by others: there is always a ―but‖ in my commendations. I hold the opinions of my neighbours in a certain contempt. I con- descend to the great arts of Music, Literature, Painting, etc.; but there is always some defect that I can point to, which no one has noticed before. I am critical about my best friends; even in my parents there are qualities I could improve upon.

But I am not critical of myself. In those minutes before Confession, which ought to be so quietly selfrevealing, I hurry through my Examination of Conscience, glossing over my lapses, dwelling rather upon the faults which are easiest to admit and which hurt my self-respect least, in no way critical of my many sins against Charity.

If I took myself to task as sternly as I take even my most admired friend, those precious moments spent with my Lord in the close embrace of Holy Communion would make me sink into the depths of His kind Heart with shame and love in their revealing light.

Who am I to make myself judge? Our Lord has said: ―Judge not and you shall not be judged.‖ Do I ever give a thought to that dreadful day when I shall stand before my Judge to render an account not only of my deeds, but of my thoughts and words?

If I myself dread critics and fly from their presence, knowing that their opinion of me will be unfavourable, that they will see through all my little vanities and pick holes in my small triumphs, let me realize that that is exactly what I do to others. The coat looks very different when it is turned inside out; the shoe pinches when it is on the wrong foot.

But when I think of criticism, I must not forget that it can be both constructive and destructive. The latter is what I practise; the former I should welcome with thankfulness and humility. And if I am called upon to judge the actions of others, let my verdict be just, merciful and helpful.

4.-GOSSIP. GOSSIP IS RARELY KINDLY. EVEN IF IT ISN’T ACTUALLY SINFUL, IT IS AT BEST SILLY

The empty mind loves to pick up tit-bits of information, chatter over them and pass them on. Inveterate gossips are as greedy for stories of their neighbours as gluttons are for savoury morsels.

They pounce on the most trivial incident, any bit of news for which their eager ears are ever on the alert. The joy of listening, the delight in repeating for ―Those that itch to know, ache to tell.‖

It goes without saying that the tale loses nothing in the telling. I find an unkind twist in it, I give it another, my hearers, probably, do the same. If I heard the same story recounted a week later, I should not recognize my handiwork.

It grows and grows like a snowball-would that it would melt as swiftly!

Gossip is petty; only the idler can indulge in it freely. It is so often spiteful, and it is mean, because the persons I talk about are not there to defend themselves. It is like ―hitting a man when he is down.‖

There doesn’t seem to be any end to it, and what makes it so dangerous is that there is invariably exaggeration. Who can tell a plain tale without embroidering it? So Truth is set at naught.

I think that the sin of detraction leads very easily to calumny, because, when I have discovered the possibly well known defects of my neighbour, I am very tempted to add a bit more in order to make my narration more interesting.

So gossip denies the words of the Psalmist: ―Mercy and Truth have met together; Justice and Peace have kissed each other.‖

Mercy, truth, justice and peace are far from the lips of the gossip. Hard, false, unfair and provoking I am when I indulge in idle chatter. I may say I do not intend any harm: I only meant to be amusing, I merely repeat what I have heard (with a very slight addition); others are far worse than I; and, after all, I had the storyon the best possible authority, and I made my listeners promise it wouldn’t go any further. I have plenty of excuses; but the harm is done. One cannot recall the spoken word.

I should take myself severely to task in this respect. I am well aware that theft can become a grave sin; is it less grave to steal my neighbour’s character? I may be able to restore the goods, I have purloined; can I, with the same facility, restore the good name of one whose honour I have defamed? My reputation is more precious to me than my worldly goods; so is that of my neighbours dearer than anything they possess. And I rob them of it by my malicious tongue; and plunge yet deeper into sin as I let Truth go to the wall in order to receive the flattering laughter of idle listeners.

Let me abjure the trivial tittle-tattle of every day. The world is full of marvels and beauty-my own existence is full of incident-there is interest everywhere. Can’t I talk about things rather than people? Or if I must talk about my neighbour, can’t I for a change, pass on some pleasant anecdote that will show him in a favourable light ?

5. -TWO POINTS OF VIEW

There are two sides to every question- the cloud and its silver lining-right and wrong. ―Did you notice that woman sitting over there?― I heard someone ask once.

―You mean the one with the scar on her face?” ―The one with the lovely golden hair?― was the response she got.

―Rain, rain,‖ grumbled another. ―It hasn’t stopped raining all day.‖ ―Didn’t you notice the rainbow?‖ inquired her friend.

Two points of view.

There are those who will always draw out the sweetness of life, who seek beauty and overlook what is pleasing; there are those whose eye will always fall upon the scar rather than upon the golden hair. Which do I do? Do I look for the good in my neighbours, and, when I have found it, do I, like the woman in the Gospel story who has recovered her groat, ―rejoice‖? Do I, as the man in the parable with his ten talents, ―trade with them‖ till I magnify the virtue I have discovered? Have I the knack of bringing out the best in others?

Or do I regard the seamy side-hoping for the best, but expecting the worst? Do I watch the rain and forget to look for the rainbow?

Most people respond to tolerance: do I give it? If my usual point of view is pessimistic, my judgement of others will tend to take the less favourable view, and I will see their faults before I see their good qualities. And everyone has plenty of both.

If I am a cheerful optimist, Ican’t be really unkind, and my opinion of my fellows will he hopeful and I will expect to find good in them.

I once went to call upon two sisters. The elder, as she met me on the threshold, said: ―Don’t brush against the door and spoil my fresh paint.‖ The other, as she let me out of the house later, said: ―Don’t brush against the fresh paint and spoil your good coat.‖

I have often thought about that small incident. Two points of view-mine and yours. Sometimes I may have to give up my point of view and accept that of another. If I must, it should be done generously, not in a niggardly manner. I am a human individual with a right to my own outlook; but

I have to consider the outlook and individuality of my neighbour. There must be give and take. Life is unbearable without kindliness. The world today is hard and cold: there is little love amongst us. We are all out for ourselves. I pursue my own doggedly, treading rough-shod on the feelings of others to get what

I want. I pass on relentlessly towards my goal regardless of those who fail and faint by the way. I carry on. Someone else can see to them; it isn’t my job, I have to get on.

I only see one point of view-my own. I take care that my newlypainted door doesn’t suffer-my neighbour’s coat doesn’t matter. I am single-minded in this: that I am going to have my own way, no matter at whose expense.

There is my point of view.

But there is God’s. What does He think of me and of the life I am at present leading? Is He satisfied that I am making due use of the countless graces He showers upon me? He has not placed me alone in this world; He expects me, by the law of charity, to give a helping hand to my neighbour. If I may say so, He looks to me to assist Him in His work among my fellow-creatures.

I am to look at things from His point of view-to regard my neighbours with His kind Eyes. They are

His children, too; if I hurt them, I hurt Him.

I see only the rain; He sees the rainbow. I look upon the scar: He gazes upon the golden hair. Two points of view-kindness and harshness; the optimist, the pessimist; the light, the shadow; the best, the worst. God’s view and mine. Which is the better?

6.-RASH JUDGING

How quick I am to form a low opinion of others, to put a sinister interpretation upon their actions, to read a hidden meaning in their words. How harshly I judge!

If I hear some scandal breathed, my impulse is to believe it at once; for I am on the look-out for the faults of my neighbours and am ready to credit them with any breach of good behaviour.

If I do not meet a certain individual at Sunday Mass, I jump to the conclusion that he wasn’t there; if I hear that another has made a good business deal, I aminclined to believe that it couldn’t have been done honestly; if I miss a trinket or a sum of money, I conclude that it has been stolen.

Yes, if I meditate upon my reactions to the daily events of life, I shall see that my mind is bent on rash judging.

Even in the most petty things. Someone has a pretty complexion: it can’t be ―her own.‖ Another has beautiful hair: the colour comes out of a bottle, of course. I will not give people credit for the good they do possess; but if, on the other hand, I do not get my due-what injustice

This habit of constantly ill-judging my neighbours is very injurious to my character. How can there be true love of God in my heart when it is full of derogatory, sneering thoughts of His creatures?

Love is what the world is crying for today-generous, selfless, forbearing love.

When I reflect that the first Christians were singled out by their love for each other, how ashamed I am! What must non-Christians think of us? What do non-Catholics think of our want of charity towards one another?

We are cradled in the same Faith, nourished with the same Sacraments, embraced in the love of our one Father. How do we show the bond we have in the common Fatherhood of God? How do we make ourselves distinguished as children of the Truth?

It is not for me to probe into the motives of others. I have quite enough to do to examine my own conscience without scrutinising those of others. How can I tell the secret intention of that soul about whom I know so little? How can I pronounce upon the motive that prompted another to act in such a manner ? It is not for me to judge, no matter how black the case looks.

The rash judgements I impetuously leap to are nearly always wrong, and I have never yet learnt that one cannot judge a book by its cover.

―Judge not, and you shall not be judged,‖ says Our Lord; and daily I judge unkindly. Often I have no grounds at all for the opinions I profess-often the wish is father to the thought. I want to think badly of others, I want to catch them tripping, I want to feel that they are no better than myself. The evil in me wants to make mischief, and make mischief it does.

For do I keep my rash judgements to myself? Very seldom. Whether true or false, they must be triumphantly noised abroad, so that I may get the credit ofhaving ―found out‖ some hapless individual.

This cruel Rash Judgement leads to Detraction and Calumny, and I have to examine my conscience seriously upon the harm I may have done.

The law of the land presumes a person to be innocent until proved guilty. Even the ordinary civil law will not condemn unheard.

But I will rather condemn first: I will pre-suppose guilt till innocence is proved. Most often I do not trouble to find out the right of the case.

And I am a Catholic, decently brought up, taught to tell the truth, educated in my Faith, familiar with the Commandments; quite aware that, besides Heaven, there is Purgatory and there is Hell.

At the very least, I must keep an open mind before I judge; but surely I will not be content with that? I will try to make my judgment wide and generous-giving credit where it is due, and giving it ―pressed down and running over.‖ I will be so much happier if I think well of others. There is a boomerang in rash judgement which rebounds upon the judge and sours the mutual intercourse of God’s creatures. Expect the best and find best; there is good in the worst of us.

7.-SCANDAL

I think very lightly about ―giving scandal.‖ If I shock people, I take it for granted they are straitlaced prigs. It doesn’t enter my head to think that I am at fault.

Even if I do not give scandal by grave sin, there are a hundred ways in which I can harm my neighbour’s character. I cannot forget that dreadful sentence spoken by Our Lord: ―Woe to the man by whom they (scandals) come. It were better for him that a millstone were hanged about his neck and he were cast into the sea.‖ Those words from our merciful Saviour

Apart from the scandal I give by my actual sins, it is necessary for me to take care not to offend the prejudices of my neighbours. It is uncharitable of me to jibe at their religion, their politics or their nationality. It is very wrong to hurt their susceptibilities even in ways which to me are perfectly justified, but which in their eyes are not so. ―One man’s meat is another man’s poison.” Everyone has a personal standpoint and individual ideals. I may put my Faith into disrepute by carelessly doing things quite lawful to me which yet may be against the possibly narrow opinion of non-Catholics. I might even thus discourage some groping soul from finding its way to the Truth.

But alas ! I seem to enjoy shocking people; it amuses me to see the pursed lips, the lowered eye. It makes me laugh to hear them utter that timeworn phrase: ―It wasn’t so in my time.‖ To say the least, it isn’t kind to tread on other people’s toes; there is a great want of charity in deliberately hurting the principles of others.

How often do I give scandal by my sins, making light of what I know to be wrong, perhaps to a weaker companion-glossing it over: ―It is only this once‖ . . . ―No one will ever know,‖ etc. What scandal I can give to those frailer souls who perhaps look to me for a lead! What scandal I can give by repeating an unkind or an unbecoming story! How can I tell the effect my idle deeds and words may have on the minds of others ?

Have I ever made an insinuation to another, perhaps robbing him of his peace of mind and involving him in the horrors of scruples? I do not know. I shall never know what the effect of my bad example has been until I stand before the Throne of God to render an account of my works. Then shall I not be appalled to see the scandal I have given?

What excuse can I make? I have none. I have carried tales from one to another; I have talked about the sins of my neighbours, perhaps revealing some hidden fault; I have nursed falsehood until I have made myself believe it, and passed it on as authentic information; I have made wild guesses as to the motives of those I do not like: I have run down their successes, and belittled their virtues.

And Our Lord has told us-nay, commanded us-to love our neighbour as ourselves.

Oh, I am ashamed of the harm my spiteful tongue has done. I am horrified of the use I have made of that precious gift of Speech, which was bestowed upon me in order that I might hold converse with my fellowmen. Above all, I sink to my knees in humiliation when I think that He, the All-Merciful, my Saviour and my Judge, rests so often upon this wicked tongue of mine.

My Jesus, whenever the Sacred Host touches my tongue in future, let me remember to breathe a prayer that I may keep my speech kindly, pure and gentle. Teach me to judge as I would be judged; to be forbearing and tolerant. In short, teach me to love my neighbour as myself.

FORGIVENESS

1.-MEMORY

Memory is one of the three powers of my soul; and it is, surely, a very gracious Gift of God. By it I let my thoughts travel hack to my childhood, to my earthly recollections of my father and mother, my brothers and sisters and I know how happy we children were -so safe and so loved. My school-days, too, were full of pleasant incident- I had good fun with my companions. I like to call to mind the images of those who taught me-the head mistress of whom I stood in such awe, the other teachers who came and went, the priests who visited our school to give us instruction now and then.

I dwell upon the holidays when I joined the family circle, and perhaps we went away somewhere together. I remember when I was ill, at different times, how good people were- what a spoiling I got.

Birthdays and Christmases were occasions of rejoicing; there were secret preparations beforehand which thrilled me, and glorious surprises when the happy days dawned.

Of course, I remember some sadness, too,-disappointments, failure to pass some exam,, and other unhappiness. But they are over, and, if I muse upon them regretfully, the sting has gone out of the pain long ago.

I recollect dear friends and relations who have been taken from me by death. I miss their loved presence, and, as I breathe a prayer for the happy repose of their souls, I thank God, too, that He let them touch my life and cheer it with their kindness and affection.

As I grow older in life, and the years lengthen behind me as shadows extend in the western sun, my memories, too, stretch further into the past and crowd my mind with their bitter sweet recollections.

Some beautiful things have marked my path-affection, loyalty, devotion. My intellect, also, has entrancing memories for me. Through it I call to mind strains of exquisite music which I have heard, plays, films and books which have lingered in my mind. Perhaps I have been one of the lucky ones who have gone abroad: I can travel my journeys over again in memory, recalling the places I have seen, the wonders displayed therein. I seem to hear once more the bewildering chatter of a foreign tongue; I seem to taste again the strangeness of the foreign food.

Or perhaps I have been a sportsman, and I have pleasant recollections of the games I have played, the tournaments I have entered, the glorious free sensation of swimming in the open sea, the joy of riding or motoring.

On the whole, I have much happiness and many things of interest to remember.

Above all, I mediate upon the countless graces I have received, the immense privileges which have been mine. I think of my First Communion, the blissful rapture of that wonderful day.

What can be more beautiful than this use of my gift of Memory? I met a man once who had lost his memory; he was but half a man. Although he appeared to be happy enough in the present, one could sense the strain in his manner, the mute groping for something he could not find. I have never forgotten him.

Yet it might, perhaps, be better for some of us if we, too, lost our memory.

For how is memory used? Too often to remember wrongs, to nourish resentment, to brood upon injustice-fancied or real. Am I not too ready to remember the unkindness I have received, the occasions upon which I have been unfairly treated? Oh, my memory is long-long when I think of the ill I have met with; but how sadly short when I consider God’s mercies.

Nor am I content with remembering injuries of yesterday and last week. My mind goes back-back to my early years to recall past ills. More, I will not confine myself to my own, but must take up the cause of my family, my friends, my acquaintances and my country.

I will recall with resentment the wrongs of my ancestors. I will dwell on them and ponder over them till I distort them with exaggeration. I will live in the bad old days of the past; I will revel in their prevailing injustice. I will brood bitterly upon the days of persecution, until it almost seems as if I grudged the very Saints their martyrs crowns. On the contrary, I should thank God upon my knees that their rich blood has bathed the soil of my native land. They hugged their chains; they embraced their wrongs, and they died, thanking their murderers.

I, too, will hug my chains. I will embrace my wrongs, because I know that I can turn them into precious jewels of merit to offer to my loving Saviour.

What is past is past, and cannot be undone. But if I do dwell upon the sufferings I have endured and the injuries I have received, let Memory sweeten and soften their recollection; and let me breathe a prayer for those who have given me cause to merit through suffering.

2.-APOLOGIZING

―I beg your pardon‖ is a phrase not often heard today. At best, one hears: ―Pardon,‖ or the more nonchalant: ―Sorry,‖ with no sorrow at all in the tone of voice.

It may seem very trivial to think about this; but the old-fashioned quality of Politeness has its roots in the ancient Christian Virtue of Courtesy, Chivalry, Consideration for others.

The habit of mind which prompts the quick apology is guided by a principle of kindliness; and the possessor of this will not easily bear rancour.

I have offended-probably unconsciously- in a very trivial way or erred though accidental clumsiness; and the right instinct for me is to make swift amends.

What does ―I beg your pardon‖ really mean? I am wrong, I stepped on your foot, I stood in your way, I took your place, I interrupted you. I did or said something which vexed you. I didn’t mean to, I never thought, I am sorry; please give me your forgiveness.

That is really what I mean when I apologize; my instinct being to right quickly what I have done amiss. Very trivial, I say; hardly worth considering. So let us look at the other side.

I know people who never beg pardon; they push through queues, they stamp on my feet, they go in to Confession out of their turn, and they never apologize for their discourtesies. How annoying they are. How they put my back up and irritate me so that I can scarcely be civil to them. It is their own fault if I am ill-disposed towards them.

I know others who boast that they will never admit being in the wrong-it would be far beneath their dignity to say they were sorry for anything they had done. ―I may be wrong,‖ I heard one of these say once, ―but I will never apologize.‖

Do I find it hard to own up? Am I one of those who, for the life of me, can’t get out that word that sticks in my throat-that word to ask pardon when I have blundered? Do I feel it against my dignity to acknowledge that I am not always right?

A quick apology, as a rule, brings quick forgiveness; then all is well.

How often have I said, or heard ―If only she had said she was wrong, I wouldn’t have minded-but now-What happens ―now‖? Misunderstandings, offence, injustice- possibly leading to revenge.

And all for the lack of a little common politeness.

3.-TAKING OFFENCE

There is a certain unhappy class of person always ready to be offended, expectant of slights, snubs and contradictions. I say, advisedly, ―unhappy,‖ because I know that people who are always watching for un- pleasantness cannot be happy.

In our modern slang we call them ―huffy‖ and ―touchy.‖ Not a word can I say to them but they must take it up and twist it to some meaning disadvantageous to themselves.

They were the children at school who could never endure to be teased, who never saw a joke if it was in the least against themselves; who resented the most innocent chaff, who sulked and brooded over trifles and turned the lightest retort into an insult.

I had no use for that kind of schoolmate; I left her alone. If one wants trouble, one is sure to find it.

There is a false humility in this attitude, too. ―Of course, no one listens to what I say . . . I am not good enough forthem” . .etc. The speaker doesn’t really believe what she is saying.

The world has no time to waste on those who are forever misinterpreting the remarks and deeds of others. One simply doesn’t bother to embark upon explanations which will only be misconstrued.

Do I take offence? Am I ready to misinterpret the words of others, and do I jump to the conclusion that, if two of my friends are talking together, they must be disparaging me? Do I resent chaff and deliberately misunderstand the motives of my fellows? Do I fall into long, brooding silences, and turn a deaf ear to amends that may be offered to me? In short, am I ―huffy‖ and ―touchy‖ myself?

If so, I am proud, unjust, selfish and uncharitable-and many other things. I nurse a dull feeling of resentment, out of which grows a sensation of dislike and antipathy to others and, growing, assumes a magnitude out of all proportion to the initial offence.

In my sullen mind I often credit my neighbours with motives unknown to them; but nothing will convince my determined obstinacy, nothing will persuade me to soften and to forgive.

I think of myself-and of myself only-of how badly I have been treated, of how unhappy I am. And I am unhappy-how could I be otherwise with this poison spreading over my soul?

Honestly, how often is taking offence justified? Isn’t it nearly always due to some misunderstanding? And if people do say or do anything uncharitable, don’t I often beat them at their own game? Why should I resent a return of my own coin?

Why not shake it off, like water off a duck’s back? Why not ignore the double meaning, pretend not to notice the insinuation, join in the joke against myself?

The unkind jibe falls harmlessly to the ground when the victim treats it with good humour; the smart ―take in‖ doesn’t come off so pat when the dupe leads the laughter.

I will try to banish this petty resentment from my mind. I will try to correct this touchy, supersensitive attitude I have adopted. If I can learn to overlook generously these small annoyances, and refuse to see offence, whether it is intended or not, when the big trials of Life confront me, I shall be the better able to forgive largely, as forgive I must.

4.-FAIR PLAY

Deeply implanted in the human heart is a sense of Justice; there are few who do not like to see Fair Play.

There is nothi ng I resent so much as the feeling that I have been ―done,‖ that I have been passed over without due cause, that I have been suspected groundlessly and pronounced guilty without proof. To use a homely phrase: ―My blood simply boils.‖ I find it hard to forgive injustice to myself, the paltry lies told, the advantages taken. I despise the poor loser, who must win the game, and cheats a bit in order to do so. I have the greatest contempt for my adversary at the card table who peeps over my hand.

Incidents of childhood have rankled in my memory-some favourism displayed, an unfair judgement, and unmerited punishment. These stick in my mind and bring a sense of dislike and animosity towards those who caused me to suffer thus.

Let me turn the picture round. Am I sure that I have always played fair? Have I been particular to right any injustice I may have caused? Have I been strictly impartial in my dealings with others? Have I been guilty of even mild deception or taken a mean advantage in a game? Have I sailed under false colours, letting it be thought that I am better than I really am? I am afraid I have not always played fair; and what I despise in others I must equally condemn in myself. I do resent injustice, I do grow indignant at anything which is unfair; but I see that I, too, am guilty in this respect. I will not forgive the injuries that I receive, but I pardon my own lapses. That is distinctly ―not fair.‖

When the sense of wrong rankles within me, I will turn to that monstrous travesty of human justice—the Passion of Our Blessed Lord; and I will take one sense to consider now.

When Pilate ordered Christ to be scourged, I think he took the first definite step in his condemnation of innocent Blood. Up to then he had hesitated, he had tried to get out of actual judgement, he had not illtreated his Prisoner. But this is what St. Luke now tells us:-―Pilate said: ―You have presented unto me this Man as one Who perverteth the people; and behold, I, having examined Him before you, find no cause in this Man in those things wherein you accuse Him . . . I will chastise Him, therefore, and release Him.‖

Does that not strike to the depths my sense of ―fair play‖? What would I say of a schoolmaster who said: ―I don’t believe this pupil of mine is guilty of what you accuse him. I can’t find the slightest proof that he is. .

Anyhow, I will give him a good caning, and let him go.‖ Oh! what should I think of such a master? How furious I should be!

But yet because my Saviour has first trodden the path of pain and shown me that injustice must be borne and forgiven, I in my way must endure and forgive. He has taught me how to pardon my enemies, but I have strayed far, far from His teaching.

I sometimes think that the Scourging at the Pillar was the most unjust act of the Passion. I ponder Pilate’s words: ―I find him innocent, thereforeI will punish Him.‖

My Jesus, teach me to endure wrongs patiently. Let me even welcome them, for I can turn them into such a wonderful source of merit if I will only bear them manfully and forgive them generously.

5.-REVENGE

I like to get my own back: to give as good as I get. If someone does me an ill turn, I shall be sure to do one equally bad in return.

In short, I am an upholder of the tit-for-tat doctrine: ready to believe that because I am erred against, that gives me justification in hitting back. ―An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth‖ is my motto-I ought to have lived in the days of the Old Testament.

What does Our Lord say upon this subject?-You have heard that it hath been said: An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth. But I say to you not to resist evil, but, if one strike thee on the right cheek, turn to him also the other. . . . You have heard that it hath been said: Thou shalt love thy neighbour and hate thy enemy. But I say to you: Love your enemies; do good to them that hate you, and pray for them that persecute and calumniate you. . . . And as you would that men should do to you, do you also to them in like manner.

St. Paul says: ―Revenge not yourselves, for it is written: ‗Revenge is Mine, and I will repay,’ saith the Lord.‖

I am a Christian and a Catholic. I know quite well that it is not for me to pay back any evil I have received. God is the supreme Judge and Avenger of us all, and He says: ―Revenge is Mine.‖ I dare not steal from Him what He claims for Himself, no matter how much I feel justified in doing so, no matter how much satisfaction I fancy I will gain by taking revenge.

The satisfaction I think I will gain?- Don’t I know from experience that, when I have taken revenge, my feeling is not one of triumph or satisfaction at all? On the contrary, I can’t get away from the sensation that I have lowered myself, and I know that I have acted against my conscience. I feel neither happy nor content. I have not got the better of my adversary, because I have got the worst out of myself. We are not ―quits.‖ Two wrongs will never make a right; and no amount of ill-doing on the part of another will ever justify my taking the law into my own hands and seeking revenge.

Evil grows of itself and a great deal too rapidly; and I am doing all I can to propagate it when I take revenge; and sin vies with sin and spreads its poison all round.

It is, certainly, not easy to bear wrongs patiently. It requires a special grace of God for which I should earnestly pray. But to take revenge deliberately is cold-blooded and vicious; and I will never gain anything by it but an increase of hatred and ill-will and the darkening of my conscience, which brings misery to my soul. And, besides, I should never forget that the person I seek vengeance upon, or criticize, may be very much closer to God than I am, and that eventually he may be higher in Heaven than I shall be, if I get there at all. Nay, at the very moment when I take my revenge, God may be looking upon him as on one of His special friends. Let me beware of injuring any friend of God, even the least, in thought, word or deed.

6.-FAMILY FEUDS

I have read books about the ―vendettas‖ of Corsica and Sicily, and very exciting these tales have been-feuds kept up from generation to generation, tribe against tribe, party seeking the downfall of party-until it seems as if the whole of the two islands must have been divided into two camps, hating each other bitterly and vowing mutual vengeance.

I didn’t give much thought to the actual question of right and wrong in the excite ment of the story. The plot was laid in a country far away from my own; and, in my ignorance, I possibly concluded that ―foreig- ners‖ are in a different category to my own countrymen, and that the Latin races are all hot-blooded, passionate and revengeful.

But do we ourselves live so harmoniously together in our own land?

Are we distinguished for our mutual charity? Are we friendly disposed to all our neighbours? Even in my own limited circle of acquaintances I have known (and probably taken part in) many bitter quarrels -quarrels which are never forgotten, quarrels which have gone on, perhaps, for years and years, till their origin is obscured in the mist of the years. Possibly I have taken sides, championing the cause of my friends, keeping up animosity, vilifying the other side with my tongue. I have delighted in cutting ―enemies‖ in the street, looking through them when we met. I have disliked their very presence near me.

If I have done this, I have assisted in keeping up enmity and I have gone directly against the teaching of my Saviour.

Some persons I know will not ―speak to each other‖; they can’t be invited to the same house together: they will not sit at the one table. And alas! that it should be so! Even in my small experience, I have known brothers and sisters at variance, sons and daughters of the same parents who will not darken each other’s doors, who, if they pass each other on the road, will do so without the slightest acknowledgement.

Two brothers will kneel side by side at the Altar rails and receive their one Lord and Master; and, with the Divine Presence still within them, will stare stonily at each other as they leave the Church.

Is this not truly deplorable? It seems incomprehensible that such people could ever be happy. Do they never feel the pull of the family tie? Can they repudiate their own flesh and blood? Is it possible that such an unnatural state of affairs can exist because of an offence committed years ago, and exaggerated since out of all recognition? Can such persons repeat the words of the ―Our Father‖-‖Forgive us our trespasses,‖ etc?

The malice which delights in keeping up ill-feeling is magnified a hundred-fold when it is found in the Christian family. The tradition of spite and hatred handed down through generations is a terrible inheritance. Awful will be the responsibility of anyone who has fomented this evil and stirred up and encouraged wicked passions of enmity within the Christian family.

Let me go through my own list of acquaintances. Is there anyone whom I will not acknowledge, anyone to whom I owe a grudge, anyone whom I will go out of my way to avoid ? Let me seek them out and give them at least a smile.

Do I quarrel with my own immediate family? Of course, I do. I have tiffs with my brothers and sisters. No doubt, I have often told them that I will never speak to them again. That is my human weakness. I have erred in this respect again and again. But oh! my God, let me be quick to ―makeup,‖ swift to make friends again. Do not let the sun go down on my wrath. My family belongs to me in a very intimate way: I must not he at enmity with a single member of it. Make me see how wicked it is to keep up malice, to continue an old feud as if it were an honourable family tradition.

It does shock me when I know brothers and sisters who will not meet one another. But am I not paving the way for such a contingency in my own family when I keep up quarrels and bear ill-will ?

Our Lord has said: ―If, therefore, thou offer thy gift at the altar and there thou remember that thy brother hath anything against thee: leave, therefore, thy offering before the altar and go first to be reconciled to thy brother, and, then coming, thou shalt offer thy gift.‖

So that I must even leave my prayers in order to make friends. For how can I pray if there is enmity in my heart ?

7. -FORGIVENESS

―Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive them that trespass against us.‖

I repeat that sentence several times a day; and it makes no impression upon me. I certainly can’t take heed of what I am saying, or the grave meaning of the words would frighten me.

I have been thinking about Forgiveness in these pages. Perhaps it has been brought home to me a bit how I abuse my Memory by making it remember injuries; how, by my pride in denying a good-mannered apology I bring into being a sense of hurt indignation. I see that, when I take offence, I allow the most trivial and often innocent remark to rankle and fester in my mind, bringing feelings of dislike and uncharitableness with the wound. I become aware that I am one of those who, while justly resenting anythingthat ―Isn’t Fair,‖ yet nurse my resentment till it is exaggerated out of all proportion. I am conscious that I enjoy giving back as good as I get: that I often plan for a Revenge, which, when it comes off, brings me no feeling but one of shame. I have trembled at the vindictiveness of the Family Feud; and, gathering all these points into one, I realize that, when I give way to such faults, I am making it harder and harder for myself to forgive.

And forgive I must-wholeheartedly and sincerely.

I heard someo ne, who should have known a great deal better, say once: ―I will forgive, but I will never forget.‖

That sentence shocked me. I know that Forgiveness is incomplete without forgetfulness.

When I read in the Gospel about our Lord’s dealings with sinners, I am struck at once by His wonderful kindness and by the quick pardon He gives to the sinner: ―Go, and sin no more. . . . . . Thy sins are forgiven thee, go in peace. . . . Above all: ―This day thou shalt be with Me in Paradise.‖ There is no allusion to what has gone before: no bringing up of the past. He gives complete forgiveness for true repentance, and, with forgiveness, forgetfulness. He seems to have ignored the evil life the Penitent Thief had led at his first stammering word of sorrow. Why cannot I cast into oblivion all memory of the small ills I have had to endure at the hands of others?

I must do so if I am to be forgiven.

It is a dreadful thing to say to my Maker: ―Forgive me, as I forgive my neighbour.‖ if I insist upon harbouring malice and fomenting family quarrels. God will take me at my word some day: and if I shall be forgiven only as I have forgiven, how pitiable my lot! Let me realize this fully before I say the ―Our Father‖ again.

I shall not be allowed to live a second life: there is no secondtrial. I don’t know when I am going to die; and, if God calls me and I go to Him with rancour and vindictiveness in my heart, how can 1 expect His mercy?

Oh, my Jesus, give me that Peace which the world cannot give Peace with myself, Peace with my neighbour. Peace with You. Do not let me be a mischief-maker, a promoter of discord, a revengeful, remorseless member of the human race. Teach me to spread Your Peace in my own little way-through my neighbourhood, through my acquaintanceship. and, above all, through my own family. May I forgive readily and generously whatever ill is done to me-even thanking You for permitting the pain to come my way, so that, through it, I may be purified. Give me opportunity to reconcile those at variance and to show by my example how gladsome a thing it is to forgive and to forget.

So that, when I kneel down to say the prayer which You Yourself taught us, let me say these words with a clear conscience:

―Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive them that trespass against us.‖ The world is sad enough, dear Jesus; let us not add to its sadness.

Nihil Obstat:

PERCY JONES,

Censor Diocesan

Imprimatur

@ DANIEL MANNIX,

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis 3rd August, 1959

********

Love’s Allthat Matters

BY DANIEL A. LORD, S.J

INDEX

WE are a romantic age, no doubt of that. Our romantic instincts have been deliberately cultivated by the writers, the songsters, the motion-picture producers, our not always too wise elders.

Into the lives of most people, we are told, there is bound to come a time when romantic love will seem to be all that matters. What possibly could then stand against it?

Sometimes it may be that this strong romantic attachment, this physical affection that can combine with a strong desire for union of lives, may mean that the two people can marry and remain contentedly married for life.

The first impulse is backed by a lot of important things. There are tastes that match and backgrounds that dovetail. There are souls that command respect, and there is virtue that gives that respect. That is the culmination of a dignified wooing that brings the young couple to that altar of God where a sacrament consecrates their lives.

Splendid.

But if it should be that the romantic attachment comes in the form of merely a major emotional disturbance. . . . if a thousand reasons cry out that this is not really love at all but fascination and infatuation. . . . if for all their physical and romantic urge the man and the woman would clearly not make each other durably happy or would enter marriage at costs too heavy to pay.

UNACCEPTABLE LOVE

For this romantic attraction may well come to people who should not under any circumstances let it lead them further. The quick flash of fascination may come when one of the pair is already married. Sounder judgment may shake a warning finger and cry out, “This won’t work.”

Literature has never been quite sure whether a person in a state of emotional enthralment is a comic or a tragic figure. Usually he or she is a little of both. For undoubtedly romance has a way of vastly exaggerating. The fascination that seems like true love makes the other person totally desirable. Longing and misery become twin companions. The fascinating person looms so large that a shadow is cast over all else. Life itself seems for the time momentarily worthless without the fulfilment of what passes for love.

I don’t need to remind even a relatively thoughtless reader that the consequences of love are pretty durable. . . . or should be. Two young people look upon each other and feel the strong attraction. Each awakes in the other a mutual thrill; they find themselves electric in each other’s company, and the evening passes like a fairy-tale second. Yet this is only a beginning. Out of this love may come marriage, long years of companionship, the founding of a home and the establishment of a family. Despite the old song the climax of life together is not the honeymoon. And if the honeymoon fades swiftly away, leaving

SADDER MAIDS, WISER MEN, they are right to feel that they have allowed themselves to be tricked.

Real love is a permanent attraction based not only on the physical fascination but on mutual respect. It is meant to be the opening gate to a long and stable relationship. It is God’s invitation to the sacrament of matrimony, which sacrament becomes in turn the beginning of a life of beautiful partnership in the creation of domestic peace and virtues and human life.

Fascination can be tricky. Love must be trustworthy enough to be used as the foundation of an entire new life.

THE MODERN AND ROMANCE

Many a modern thinks pretty casually and superficially about romance. Love, he will show you in his novel or his drama, is really all that matters. Vast quantities of pulp literature every year grind out this simple thesis: When two people are in romantic love, when they feel this fatal fascination for each other, nothing else really counts. Love comes before all. And in a strange perversion of morality love is said to make all things right.

Regrettably a good many people are acting as if this pulp romance were a sound and quite reasonable philosophy. Too, too many plays have in recent years followed the same theme.

IRONY HERE

The more intelligent among the critics may note the irony in the situation. The actress who plays the love-conquered heroine has herself been married three times-each time for romantic love, and each time with less permanency than her last permanent wave. The hero has been twice married and twice divorced and is at present (according to the columnists) imperishably in love with a third undying affection. The author of the play is in court, trying to explain to a judge how he could have two violent love affairs at the same time that he is married to the romantic love that was so publicized in his marriage of three seasons ago.

I have shuddered often enough when on the screen I have watched the fascination of two totally unsuited characters. The heroine falls in love with a gangster, reforms him in the last hundred feet of film, and they marry. In one film a fine young detective falls in love with a woman who by all the force of clues and plot is supposed to be a murderess. When he asks his good old Irish mother (a highly synthetic character, believe me) whether she would object to his marrying a murderess, the dear good woman answers,”Not if she’s a good girl.” I found that the most unconsciously funny line of the year.

For a time there was an epidemic of pictures in which psychiatrists, who should have known better, married their halfloony patients. I recall one male doctor who did that and one attractive woman doctor who slipped into the currently fashionable pattern. It is possible that a psychiatrist finds himself physically attracted toward an otherwise charming patient. But having worked in the jungle of their patients” psychoses, psychiatrists would not be likely to want to take over the job of living with these near-nuts for life.

NOT ALL IN FICTION

I wish the attitude of “romance over all” were merely a matter of stage, screen, and fiction. Unfortunately that attitude is common in real life. We are, I repeat, arace of real romanticists. . . . and that powerful attraction of a man and a woman for each other is supposed all too often to justify the most unwholesome, outrageous and foredoomed lines of conduct.

Here is a girl wh o finds a divorced man fascinating. She gives up her religion in order to marry him. “Ah,” sighs the bridge club, “but they loved each other so much and for so long.”

The Catholic boy hesitated quite a while before he finally gave up his religion to marry the girl who insisted on marriage in her fashionable Protestant church. “But,” ask his friends, “what else could he do? He was madly in love with her.”

This chap is a college professor; the girl “slung hash in the “Bowl of Beans”.” A microscope would find in them no common interest of language, education, or tradition. But because of a fascination like that depicted so terribly in “Of Human Bondage,” they married. Anyone should be able to see the reefs ahead in such a marriage. “But,” sigh the romantics who read the item in the newspapers, “what does anything matter as long as they have their love?”

NOT SO NEW

This attitude is not so modern as I may make it sound. We can read in history how fascination was mistaken for love and romance in the physical sense used as substitute for a durable foundation for marriage.

A tough old Roman general named Mark Antony, who had had almost as many love affairs as he had freckles on his forearm, fell madly in love with Cleopatra. She was already old and tired of her succession of lovers when Antony arrived. But that love became one of history’s famous infatuations.

When the crucial naval battle of Antony’s career came, he knew that by nightfall he would be either master of the world or a fugitive from the short swordof Caesar’s legionaires. The battle was going not too badly, when he saw the warship of his timorous Cleopatra turn in flight. Promptly he ordered his ship about and raced, not to ram the flagship of his enemy, but to escape with his retreating lady. That night Caesar owned the world. . . . and Mark Antony slipped from the arms of his fascinating mistress into the scrap heap of history.

A sentimental Elizabethan playwright made of that story a play called, with an eye to modern taste, “All for Love.” Bernard Shaw, in his “Caesar and Cleopatra,” tells another side of the story. . . . how Caesar had once found Cleopatra fascinating. But Shaw is a great disbeliever in the all-forlove school. So when in G.B.S.”s play really important things come up-Caesar’s future career, his leadership in Rome. . . . the mastery of the empire-the great Julius gives Cleo hardly a thought; he moves past her fascination to the top ranks of history. The girl in both plays was Cleopatra; the love in each case fascinating and highly romantic. But two different men were involved-Mark Antony and Julius Caesar-so there were two different evaluations of romance and two very different destinies and falling curtains.

Caesar had no silly ideas of love’s being all.

ROMANCE IS EXAGGERATED

I AM AFRAID THAT MANY OF MY INEVITABLY ROMANTICALLY-MINDED READERS WILL THINK ME PADRE LOVEKILLER WHEN I SAY THAT ROMANCE IS MUCH OVER-EMPHASIZED TODAY

Strong, pure, unselfish, stable young love can be a beautiful thing. Mature love grows in dignity and strength. A man and a woman who are consecrated by the sacrament knit their souls through trial and joy, creation and achievement. The old, mellowed love of a man and a woman on their golden wedding day is an amalgam of affection and respect, of dangers known and triumphs shared, of lives that side by side grew into something vast and grand and noble.

But the physical love of a man for a woman or of a woman for a man, the fascination that can spring up between totally unsuited people, is by no means the only kind of love-if it is true love at all.

Let’s realize that there are all kinds of emotions that fall under the too easily used word called love. We speak of the love of God and the love of good food, the love of family and of work, the love of friends and of books, the love of scenery and of horses, the love of a hobby and the love of good conversation, the love of prayer and the love of sea and sky, the love of exercise and the love of sport, the love of travel and good wine and ripe tobacco, the love of peace and the love of the saints.

So even the most dignified and most beautiful love of a man and a woman is by no means the whole of life. So can the quick fascination or brief infatuation felt by two youngsters be the whole of life? Often a really strong and constructive love seems much like a background for life. It is an atmosphere from which a man moves out to great achievement . It is the shelter in which a woman achieves her more complete development.

Love may often be very important-when it is an inspiration that lifts the lover to higher levels and gives him or her new motives for virtue and creative living. But there is something terribly unfair about the writers who make every life story merely a love story that presents the whole of existence as a concentration on that brief period of intense physical love and that presents the great objective of life as the search for and the finding of the right partner for romance.

MUCH ELSE TO OFFER

Life has much more, often very much more, to offer. A really perfect marriage is one that opens to both husband and wife long and inviting avenues for exploration and for their individual and joint development. On the other hand, what might seem to the participants to be a predestined perfect marriage soon shows itself hardly satisfactory at all if there are merely romance and physical attraction.

Life, if it is to be satisfactory, has to be made up of a variety of elements; it has to satisfy the whole human being, body, soul, tastes, habits, possibilities for development, aspirations. Even those of the fairy tales that talked in terms of “bread and cheese and kisses” put the bread and cheese before the kisses.

And quite rightly. Under stress of a romantic fascination lovers may briefly lose their appetites. But very soon appetite comes back with a bang and a bite; romance is not enough to fill a hungry stomach, cool a parched throat, or pay a rent bill. As a matter of brutal fact the most romantic love and the most fervent kisses in these days of rising costs of bread and luxury prices of cheese will need to be supplemented by an assured income and a wise sense of budgeting.

LET’S LOOK AT CASES

A wholesome, satisfactory life has in it a lot of hard things-like cash.

A man or a woman need-if they are to attain lasting happiness here and now-a great many elements to satisfy natural cravings and God-given desires. Love cannot long outlast hunger. That hunger may be for God, for peace, for understanding, for success in life, for self-development, for virtue, for grace.

To offer romance and physical fascination as substitutes for all these hungers is to make men and women too, too simple.

Let’s say that the married man is swept off his feet by his charming if not too serviceable secretary. It is, he protests, the romance of a lifetime. So he pensions off his lawfully wedded and properly protesting wife, gives his children a final paternal-if slightly regretful-pat on the heads, and with his fresh love heads off for a new honeymoon.

The romantics may sigh that love made this course of action inevitable. People with any regard for the decencies have a very different outlook. They wonder how long he will be happy with his new light-of-love. They wonder how far his business associates will trust this man who has in his own affairs proved so untrustworthy. For all its casual talk about morality the world has not forgotten the importance of such things as obligations, the pledged word, responsibilities, duties to contracts. He will come up against a good many cold shoulders. It well may be that his career will be sharply curtailed.

There is the headlined story of the wife who falls in love with the husband of her best friend. He fervently returns her love. They make a brief and not too up-and-up struggle; no referee would call it an honest fight. In the end they break the news to the other wife, and everybody is “highly civilized about it.”

We have not yet reached a point where most people cannot recognize that the “highly civilized” conduct would be spurned by savages. We are pretty sure of the unhappiness that is built upon this romantic fascination, this physical attraction.

We severely doubt that this “great romance” will compensate for loss of honour, the brand of adultery, the collapse of will, the failure to meet simple obligations, the betrayal of sworn agreements.

LOVE THAT COSTS TOO MUCH

We who have faith are sometimes astonished at the temerity of a man or a woman who dares to ask that for his or her sake God be renounced.

Here we are, we mortals, moving toward our destiny, which is God, knowing that we are deeply at peace only when we possess God, certain that in the end we will be wretchedly miserable without God.

Then into the life of a Catholic comes a fascination that centres around, let’s say, a divorced person. Usually fascinations of this sort are not lightning affairs. They come with plenty of warning; often they are of slow growth. The Catholic struggles a bit, yields a bit. . . . and then finds that he or she is deep in a romantic fascination.

Suddenly the choice becomes appallingly clear: God or this new romance. There can be no clinging to both. If the Catholic gives up the person to whom he (or she) has no right, he retains God and all that God alone can give. If he keeps the person, he gives up God and the incredible riches of God’s grace and God’s promises.

I am amazed that there should be among human beings something that so closely approaches idolatry. What right has any human being to cry out, “I shall make up to you for your loss of God”? How dare a limited, finite being pledge himself or herself to make the Catholic forget the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit? Or if the non-Catholic could not be expected to understand, if in his conceit he regarded himself capable to fill the vacuum left by an ejected and rejected God, then surely the Catholic should know just what is happening here.

The fascination of a limited, weak mortal to make up for the limitless love of God? What can the affection of a human being give to compensate for the loss of grace from the Almighty? Are a few brief years of life with this man or that woman enough to make up for an eternity without God?

The whole business is so much worse than merely tragic; it is utterly and unbelievably stupid and inhuman.

“GIVE UP FOR ME. . . .”

Or there is the Catholic who falls in love with someone outside his Church. He professes his romance to be overwhelming. Yet this incredibly attractive and fascinating person is not big enough or generous enough to make a few concessions. “I will not be married in the Church,” says the non-Catholic, “and I shall not make the promises.”

Again the choice is clear -His Church with all its Godendowed powers to guarantee eternal happiness. . . . or the arms of a selfish human being.

Yet in the fierce fascination of the moment the Catholic will give up all. . . . Christ in the Eucharist, the mothering love of Mary, the indwelling of the Holy Spirit, his heir-ship to heaven . . . and expect the world to count all well lost for the fascination of a moment. . . . a day. . . . a year. . . . yes, a lifetime.

LOVE JUSTIFIED ALL?

The modern romanticist holds in theory and for practice that if you do a thing for love you do what is right. Love justifies whatever is done-the trampling on duty, the desertion of wife and children or husband and children, the walking out on one’s home, even the giving up of God. It is as if a person infatuated by romance were not really responsible for what he did.

Luckily for all of us, that theory doesn’t hold very far when we cons ider what humans regard as the really serious affairs of life.

Let’s imagine that the scene is the front line of battle. The supposition I am making tends to caricature the whole setting. But we shall imagine that in the shadow of night the colonel has advanced his regiment to striking position. With the first glimmer of dawn he and his men will spearhead the attack that may decide the entire engagement. His junior officers synchronize their watches with his. He gives them final instructions. He settles back to await the moment at which to attack.

But suddenly his wireless operator appears, a puzzled look on his face. He hands the colonel a message. The colonel unfolds the sheet and reads the contents.

“Darling,” runs the message, “I could not live if you were to be killed in battle. Your death is almost certain if you attack the enemy this morning. I am just five miles back of the lines safe and waiting. If you will come at once, I will marry you. If you stay, I am sure you will die. That cannot be. You could not love your country more than you love me. Come. I am waiting. Love is all that matters.”

The wireless operator looks at the colonel as if he were someone out of a cartoon. The colonel acts the part.

“Have my jeep brought around,” snaps the colonel. He lays his hand upon the shoulder of his astounded subordinate. “I am going to the woman I love. Let the next in command take over. Love justifies all.”

When the colonel is brought up before the court-martial, what he has to say about romance and physical love falls on chilly ears. When he repeats that line about love’s justifying all, they snort rudely. They happen to know that a lot of other things are more important than romance and that his duty to his regiment and his country was one of those other things.

BUT NOBODY IS IMPRESSED LET’S TAKE ANOTHER CASE, RIDICULOUS AS IT IS BOUND TO READ

The courtroom was crowded, for the case promised to be sensational. Tax evasion was a familiar enough sort of charge; but the newspapers had got wind of a startling defence, and they were playing it up in headlines: “Tax Dodger Dodged for Love.”

Confidently the defendant walked to the stand. Over the heads of the court he smiled serenely at the woman he loved, his beautiful wife beautifully dressed in a rich, almost ankle-length ermine coat, the lapels of which she was stroking with heavily jewelled fingers. Her smile was full of confident love. The romance between them was so beautiful that its force swept over the spectators, and a sob sister had that look that suggested that she was wiping her eyes with a sheet of carbon paper.

His lawyer leaned forward. “Tell the court,” he said, in a ringing voice, “just what you told me.”

The man in the chair, his eyes turned innocently to the judge, told his story with convincing simplicity. “I loved her,” he said, “more than life. When I met her, she was being wooed by the city’s wealthiest man. What chance had I if he gave her what she needed to frame her beauty, to cushion her loveliness? My income was scarcely half his. If I gave over a part of my income to the Government, I would be robbing her, thwarting my love. So I gave her what her beauty demanded, furs, jewels, the cars she craved. I could not woo her properly and at the same time pay my taxes. What right, then, has the Government to expect me to forgo my love for the sake of mere taxes?

“Surely I was right. I gave her a house worthy of her beauty. I have dressed her as befits her love and mine. Surely I had the right to give her whatever guaranteed our love. I am sorry that I could not pay my taxes, too. But I followed my heart. . . . and love conquers all.”

Maybe the spectators cheered. Maybe they laughed. Anyhow, you may be sure that the judge came down on him pretty heavily. For, seemingly, love does not justify tax evasion. You had better not love some man or woman more than you love your country.

THIEF FOR LOVE

The ridiculous cases could so easily be multiplied.

They picked him up as he stepped out of his cashier cage. “You are ten thousand dollars short,” they said. But he smiled.

“Of course I am,” he answered, calmly. “I did it for the woman I love, and love justifies all.”

To the police court, and the slack-jawed reporters he poured forth his magnificent statement of love, his justification of what he defied them to call a theft.

“She was married to a brute,” he explained. “He abused her frightfully. And she was so fragile, so lovely, so good-and beautiful. And a resistless love drove us into each other’s arms.”

“Better than a soap opera,” said a police reporter, wiping away salty tears.

“She had no money. She couldn’t bring suit for divorce,” continued the gallant romancer. “So I took from the bank what she needed.”

The desk sergeant choked back a sob.

“You mean. . . . you, the cashier. . . . stole. . . . ?”

The prisoner’s brave eyes flashed indignantly. “Don’t use that ugly word. I took money to win her freedom and make possible our love. And love makes all things right.”

Two bailiffs and two police reporters carried him about the court on their shoulders.

The judge sentenced him to twenty years; but judges are so unromantic.

(In parenthesis: John Galsworthy once wrote a play not too unlike this bit of fiction, and he, too, seemed surprised when his leading character got a stiff sentence from the judge.)

LOVE DOESN’T STAND IN THE WAY

History has yet to pass its final verdict on the pitiful exking of England who gave up his throne for the sake of “the woman I love.” But it is interesting to note that his most friendly apologists always hasten to explain that love was not the real reason for Edward’s abdication. He was, they insist, the victim of the men who owned the mines and mills. The king had been too sympathetic to those workers. He was not just a reckless romanticist chucking his responsibilities for a divorcee; he was a democrat tired of playing king, a victim of gang politics. Any of a dozen explanations are offered to make us forget that here was a king who walked out on his country, a man who renounced his oath of service because he was fascinated by a woman.

Tellingly enough his own country knew how the people felt about him and did what they thought was fitting. When Britain’s fate hung on the wings of a few planes and her enemies were cutting those planes to pieces, when the royal couple who had taken over walked the bombed streets of London in peril of their lives, England handed its former king a post in the pleasure resort of Nassau. Not even in time of peril did his country want the man who had put love before his sworn duty. Ironically, he was handed a tropical playground where he could continue, if he wished, his honeymoon.

JUST NOT DONE

A community would not forgive a doctor who, during a “flu epidemic, fled with his young wife to safety and left the people of the town to their peril. It would expect him to put his duty to his patients before his love of his wife. It would regard as shameful any effort on his part to escape to safety, however great might be his love for his wife.

If a scientist was far along in some essential and dangerous experiment, he would be expected to complete his work. The fact that he fell in love, that his wife was afraid that he might be the victim of an explosion or that some dangerous germ he was isolating would attack him would be considered poor excuse for his failure to do for the world the job he had been set to do.

THOUSANDS LIKE HIM

There have been a thousand Mark Antonys in history, men who ran away from battle in order to be with the women they loved, men who betrayed their country because of some infatuation. History finds them subjects for endless hissing. History either blots them forever from its pages or presents them unmistakably for what they are- traitors.

IS IT ENOUGH?

The romantics who put love over all justify themselves with three simple words: Love is enough. If you are in love, that is all you need. When a man loves a woman and she loves him, they have in that love all that is necessary for happiness and the fulness of life. On romance and physical fascination the present can be built and the future firmly established. With romantic love a couple have everything. Without romantic love nothing is worth while.

So people who are infatuated become so absorbed in each other that they consider the world well lost. In fact, for the time the world may seem actually lost in a haze, a mist, a sort of golden mirage. They are convinced that if they could settle in a cottage on some desert isle they would know the completeness of life.

They walk to their happiness over broken vows and the smashed altars of God, they believe that they will find at journey’s end what they threw away-and more.

It is as if they believed that the physical happiness of a man and a woman together could include all other happiness of heaven and earth.

Even the slightest experience with the world proves how totally false this is. Romantic love can be the most fleeting of passions. The divorce courts grind daily the grist of romance-the couples who married in a mad rush of passion were totally blinded by the hypnotism of romance, and in a matter of months-even weeks-knew what all the wise men of the world could not prove to them earlier.

To guarantee the love of a man and a woman, God decreed the great outpouring of sacramental grace. He called down upon them multiplied blessings. He instituted a sacrament to consecrate their union.

Back of romantic love must be all that we have so often indicated: respect of each for the other, good qualities that appear when the blinding glitter of romance fades, virtues that make a person livable with, interest in a common enterprise that both love and into which both throw their fullest resources, prayer together, dignified recreation together, a richness that each uses to enrich the other, strength that each gives to the other, patience and forebearance that make it possible for each to endure the limitations that are found even in the best human being that ever lived.

ONE ONLY ONE

The preoccupation with romantic love, the conviction that “If I miss this love, I shall never know another,” rests on a strange fallacy. Somewhere in relatively recent times there grew a notion that two specific people were made for each other, these two and these two only. Marriages are not confirmed in heaven through the sacrament of Christ’s institution; marriages are arranged in heaven. It is as if definitely assigned angels equipped with filing cards place in a certain bracket the cards of John and Jane. . . . and if, for some reason, John and Jane do not hit it off on earth, the angels have to tear up the cards and call off any possibility of Jane’s and John’s ever marrying anyone else.

You’d think that every woman was to a specific man as a single key is to a Yale lock- just one make of key that fits the lock. . . . no other key that could open it. You’d think that a man was to a woman as a final piece is to a jigsaw puzzle-only one piece that can complete the puzzle. . . . only one man that can complete the one woman’s life.

So you find that when modern young people grow romantic, when they feel this fascination for each other, they adopt an attitude of final fatality. This, they are sure, is the one and only love of a lifetime. If this passes them by, never will another come.

He looks at her and says,”If I marry you, I shall find happiness. If I don’t marry you, I shall never know another love.” She gazes upon him and says, “From all eternity you were destined to be my mate. Without you I am incomplete. With you and only with you can my life reach fulfilment.”

PRETTY MUCH NONSENSE

You’d think that widows and widowers never married again.

You’d think that people who have fallen in love once never fall out of that love and into another love with someone else.

I have often told the story of a young woman who wrote me of her romantic fascination -for a divorced man. She had to marry him, or her life would be wrecked, ruined. I wrote her and reasonably presented the arguments against this folly. I got no answer. Two years later I got her wedding announcement: She, a Catholic, had been married in a Protestant church.

When I visited her town, she surprisingly came to see me.

“I suppose you are disgusted with me,” she said.

“That’s hardly the word,” I replied. “Anyhow, when I got your first letter and you told me how mad you were about this man, I felt that my arguments would do little good.”

She had the grace to blush. “Oh,” she said, “I”m married. . . . but not to the man I wrote you about.” So she had fallen hopelessly in love successively with two men-both divorced. She married the second one. I have known a hundred and more cases of the one-and-only love that turned out to be merely the first of a series of oneand-only loves. Perhaps the fourth or the fifth was the one genuine, reverential, devoted, self-sacrificing, durable love on which the marriage could be safely established.

Recently a thoroughly pagan modern author was quoted as having said that conceivably any young man could fall in love with any of a hundred thousand young women and that more than likely any normal girl could, given the opportunity, fall in love with any of a hundred thousand acceptable or convenient young males.

Only the most romantic nonsense makes people think that one man from all eternity is predestined for one woman -and vice-versa-and that marriages are so arranged that if through some fatality these two never meet or never marry, there is no one else on earth for either of them to marry.

Even a short experience should indicate how ridiculous this is. Fascination and romance are so common that only when there are in addition the sober, serious, deep, lasting qualities that make a love strong enough for marriage should fascination and romance be taken seriously.

LOVE SO OFTEN SECOND

Time and again, however, even the most beautiful and permanent love must be put in second place. The country calls its citizens to arms. Those in control of the Government do not ask how deeply in love are the young men and women. No consideration is give n to the loneliness of a soldier’s wife or the reluctance with which a husband is parted from the woman he loves. The country slaps the men into uniform even if love has to wait. It takes the men away from their homes, however painful the separations. And if the beloved must die on the battlefield or upon the deck of a destroyer, that is because there are interests more important and more pressing than romantic love or even the deepest and most genuine love.

STILL MORE THAN LOVE

Certainly love is an important element in life. True and constructive love, the kind that binds a man and a woman in beautiful unity and makes them build together their own personal lives and the lives of the children God sends them, is vital to the world’s happiness.

But always love is only one of the elements of life. Romance is only a part of love. And the physical aspects of romance are merely a part of the united life of a man and a woman.

Love is prelude to a very serious business.

Through true love God invites a man and a woman to become partners with Him in the creation of human life, in the education and full development of His sons and daughters. However glorious the assignment, here is a tremendous responsibility, a genuine profession.

Almost before all else it is vital that a young couple know how each feels about this essential work of their future life. Nothing else will bind them more closely than the common enterprise of the establishing of a home. Nothing else will give them a greater sense of unified achievement than the realization that with God they are bringing into the world His children, who are destined for an eternity of happiness.

THE START IS A SACRAMENT

Perhaps the love between a man and a woman can be made most clearly understandable if we say of it that it is meant to be- prelude to a sacrament.

Not the chance meeting and mating of animals. Not the casual entrance into an affair that might characterize pagans. But the joining of hands and hearts, of souls and bodies in an outward sign which expresses the inward grace that God is pouring into them for their elevation and their help.

St. Paul could find no other comparison worthy of the greatness of this union of a man and a woman in sacramental marriage thanthat of the union of Christ and His Church. . . . the husband loving the wife as Christ also loved the Church. . . . and the wife ministering to the husband as the Church serves its divine lover.

In our age, as in all other ages,, love between a Catholic man and a Catholic woman leads inevitably to the altar. There they tell God that they love each other with a love so deep and true, so permanent and constructive that with His help they feel capable of carrying out His high command to increase and multiply.

Their love has led to a union, a union with each other and a union with God in the enormously vital work that means homemaking and the entrance of God’s little ones into life.

Any love that fails to meet the standard of this divine measure is far below what should be at the foundation of Catholic marriage.

PARTNERSHIP

So if you are looking for successful love, you have to peer through the glamour of romance and the glitter of fascination to see the essential qualities that mark the development of love.

Successful love is a successful partnership.

It is a partnership with God.

But it is also a partnership between the man and the woman. Each contributes to the success of the other’s life. Each brings to bear qualities that complement and develop the other. Each plays a part in the intensely constructive work that must follow and mark the whole course of marriage.

In love there are so many elements. After the highly romantic and physical attraction there must come a peaceful and pleasant companionship. A good friend and companion in marriage is likely to be more durable than a violent lover. Often there is more joy in partnership than in passion. Too much romantic love is likely to wear far less well than pleasant dispositions and the common enjoyment of interest, work, and friends.

So when a romanticist cries out, “Love’s all that matters,” our first question should be, “Just what do you mean by love?”

If he means only physical attraction, that is sheerest nonsense.

If he means the swift fascination, the infatuation that can come between the least suitable persons, he is talking unintelligently.

If he means true love, a love that holds beyond physical attraction, a love based on mutual respect, a feeling of friendliness and comradeship, a desire to work together, to achieve together, to share common interests and friends-this, at least, is a love that offers more chance of happiness.

If he goes a step further and talks of a love that unites the father and the mother with God in the creation of home and family, he has reached something wonderfully important and significant.

But even such a love must be set aside for higher interests and deeper duties; when love of country calls, when a man must dedicate himself to the service of his fellow-men, when God and God’s law forbid that love.

For no love is important enough to make up for the loss of God.

No romance could possibly compensate for the death of the soul and the forfeiture of all eternity.

Love is richest and most human and humane when it brings with it honour, an increased sense of duty, an inspiring love of work, a multitude of friendships shared and interests held in common, a united and uniting faith, a life that binds God to the very centre of their united and consecrated life.

Love is only part of what matters for happiness in life.

But, according to the heart of God love can bring us very close to the Creator and Saviour, Who is the lover of mankind.

Nihil obstat:

W. M. COLLINS, Censor Dioc.

Imprimatur:

@D. MANNIX,

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis.

********

Love’s Way

BY REV. ALBERT POWER S. J

INDEX

A CATHOLIC priest is a man empowered by Jesus Christ to offer to God the Sacrifice of the New Law, the Sacrifice of the Eucharist. Other wonderful Powers, too, are conferred at Ordination—such as the power to forgive sins but the right to offer Sacrifice it is that constitutes a priest. He is a public minister, to whom authority is given to act as representative of the community: and, in its name, to offer to God the highest act of worship possible to man. On the priest, therefore, on his fidelity to duty, depends the existence of the Eucharist. On him, too, depends the administration of the other Sacraments.

But Christ also commissioned His Apostles -the first Catholic priests-to preach and so propagate His doctrine in the world. Within fifty or sixty years after Christ’s death His oral teaching was, under divine inspiration, committed to writing; and those writings, along with the Old Testament, constitute the text book used, by the Church in instructing her children. The text book priests, as preachers, must know thoroughly. Hence, the long years of preparation in the seminary devoted to the study of theology, which is simply the scientific exposition of Christian doctrine, as contained in the Bible.

The priesthood, as such, is a social institution which exists primarily for the welfare of others -for the saving and perfecting of souls through the application of the supernatural means provided by Jesus Christ.

Religious life, on the other hand, has as its immediate end-primarily, at least-the salvation and perfection of the individual; it is an organisation intended to enable men and women to live the Christian life as perfectly as possible.

A priest may, of course, be also a religious; but the priesthood, as such, does not necessarily demand the practice of all the evangelical counsels (though in the Western Church celibacy is obligatory, and priests take a solemn vow of chastity). But religious life consists essentially in the public profession of the counsels of Poverty, Chastity and Obedience.

THE PRIEST’S WORK

This, however, does not, mean that less stress is to be laid on the qualities and virtues required in a priest. He is Christ’s public official, destined to fulfil duties for the spiritual welfare of the community.

For the proper discharge of these duties, qualities -natural and supernatural-are required that may not be necessary in those who live the retired life, say, of a Carthusian monk. A priest living in the midst of the world may be called upon to exercise a far higher degree of virtue, in order to be faithful to his duty, than those who serve God in a state more sheltered from temptation. Moreover, since it is his vocation to preach God’s Word, to direct the conscience of his flock, to advise them in their difficulties, to strengthen and encourage them in their struggle against sin, he must be equipped with the knowledge, prudence, experience and tact without which such functions cannot be discharged. He has to mix with people of every rank of society-must be courteous to all, sympathetic with suffering, gentle with the weak, firm in correcting the sinner, full of mercy to the fallen. He must be a man of heroic self-sacrifice; for his duty requires that he be ready at any moment, day or night, to administer to the spiritual wants of his people, especially when death approaches.

It is a high and holy and noble vocation; it gives a man endless opportunities for practising -sometimes in a heroic degree-charity to his fellows.

The simplest, and yet the most overwhelming, proof of the sublime dignity of the priesthood is the fact that of all possible callings it was that followed by Christ Himself. He is the first Priest of the New Law, and our priesthood is simply a sharing of His. The powers and prerogatives of the Catholic priest are, indeed, astounding, but they are explained by the fact that he is Christ’s mouthpiece and representative. Just as the ambassador of a great empire, though in himself and as a private individual he may be of little consequence, still has the whole weight of that empire’s authority behind him when he acts as ambassador; so with the priest.

In himself he is a weak, fallible mortal, like other men, but when he pronounces the words of Consecration or the words of Absolution he speaks with the authority of God Himself.

ENCOURAGING VOCATIONS

Now, it is clearly our duty to do all we can to help in fostering and developing vocations-both to the priesthood and to religious life-in children and young people under our care. The success of the Church depends on the number and fervour of her priests and religious. Jesus calls them the salt of the earth. Just as salt preserves food from decay, so, by aiming at a life of holiness, and by making available to others the supernatural means of sanctification provided by Christ, priests and religious help to check the tendency to corruption which is inherent in fallen human nature.

It is true that on every man and woman lies this ditty of resisting moral decay and sin, and anyone living a practical, Catholic life does actually and effectively promote this health-giving process. But, still, just as there are doctors and nurses specially devoted to safeguarding the public health, even though each individual has his own personal duty in the matter, so, in the spiritual world, there must be those who specially concentrate on the work of promoting the health of the soul.

And what a splendid purpose in life it is! And how many more would take up the toilsome work of priest or, brother or nun, if only they understood better the excellence and nobility of the calling! In every human heart, not utterly perverted by self-indulgence and sin, there exists a longing after higher things; as is evidenced by the splendid response made when a sudden call of heroic sacrifice is made-for example, in time of war.

St. John Bosco said: “I know young people well; a large proportion of them have, in germ, the vocation to a higher life.” That germ it is our duty to develop. And at no time was it more urgent than today, when such wonderful opportunities are opening up for the conversion of heathen nations.

The Catholic Church is at a turning point in her career. Mankind is being gradually linked up into a closer union by new methods of rapid transit and communication, and the barriers that hitherto walled off the uncivilised peoples of the globe are being broken down.

Unexampled opportunities for disseminating knowledge are placed at the disposal of all who care to make use of them.

The enemies of Christianity are making use of them with restless energy, to attack our religion; and the Catholic Church needs a much larger and more energetic band of fire-fighters to check the progress of the conflagration of evil doctrines and evil practices at present sweeping the world and threatening to consume our civilisation.

Those fighters are chiefly priests, brothers and nuns; and we should strain every nerve to recruit their ranks, which, especially in certain European countries, have been sadly depleted since the war of 1914–18. Catholic parents should be led to consider it their greatest honour and privilege to devote to the service of God and the welfare of society one or more of their children. In no nobler way can they contribute to the extension of God’s Kingdom on earth.

The Eucharist is Christ’s most perfect gift-the special means He has devised to keep the members of His Church bound together by ties of love, and make us all His blood relations, as it were, and members of His Family. Through this gift we feed on His own Body and Blood, and are incorporated with Him, nourished by Him, united to Him, and, through Him, to all the other members of His vast household. I think that one of the special results of Eucharistic Congresses has been to bring home to outsiders with startling force the unity of Catholic Faith in the Eucharist. They see devout men and women from various nations assemble together to make a public act of faith in the Real Presence, and, as they witness the reverence, the union of mind, the harmony in worship of the vast multitudes, they seem to grasp more firmly the great central fact that the Eucharist is the binding force of Catholic unity; that Christ’s Blood it is that cements together so many millions of human souls into one great family of believers.

Each one of these worshippers of Christ has his own cares and anxieties; his own views, interests, tastes, difficulties and repugnances-for the Catholic Church is a Congregation of ordinary, fallible, faulty human beings. Yet, whatever else they may differ about, with regard to the deepest things of the mind-the things of Faith, the things of most consequence for time and eternity-they are all welded together, as by some mighty, force, into an absolutely united whole.

Could one have a more striking proof of the marvellous effects of the Eucharist on man’s interior life? The unity of Catholic belief proclaims eloquently and convincingly that the Master is at home and ruling His household.

And, as one watches such a Congress, the mind travels back musingly over the Eucharistic story of the past nineteen centuries. To the inward eye it is not merely the men and women of the twentieth century that are marching along, publicly proclaiming their faith in Christ’s Presence. The modern pageant is but a part of a vaster procession that has been moving slowly onward ever since Christ lived-men and women all united in the same loving worship, all bowing in reverence to the same Eucharistic Presence. In that throng you behold, with reverent mien and faces aflame with loving adoration, all the fervent worshippers and zealous defenders of the Eucharist of all the centuries. You listen to the hymns that were chanted in Rome 600 years ago, at the first Corpus Christi procession, the marvellously beautiful hymns of St. Thomas Aquinas; they are ringing today in our streets and churches-the same glorious words rising up from Catholic hearts to express the same living faith in the same Eucharistic Presence.

And St. Thomas Aquinas is but one link in the chain. He was looking back over a thousand years of crowded Church life, and was feeding his soul on the Eucharistic teachings of the Doctors and Fathers of the early centuries. He joined hands with St. John Chrysostom, with St. Cyril of Jerusalem, with St. Ambrose of Milan, St. Augustine of Hippo, with all the Catholic teachers and believers of those far-off days, when Roman emperors still ruled the world, before the great barbarian invasions had overwhelmed civilisation; when modern nations were as yet in the making, and the world was vastly different from what it is today. Very little remains now to tell the tale of those ancient times. But one thing does survive, and survives, as vigorous and youthful today as it was in the days of Diocletian or Constantine-one tremendous force remains unshaken by all the shocks of wars and revolutions-namely, Catholic belief in the Eucharist.

Like a golden chain, Catholic faith in Christ’s Presence unites the new world with the old, the worshippers of New York or Melbourne with the martyrs of the Colosseum or of Ireland; Catholics of the twentieth century chanting High Mass in a great basilica, with Catholics of the third century stealing to the Catacombs to assist in secret at the same Holy Sacrifice, offered in the same words, by the same Catholic priesthood.

OMNIPOTENT WORDS

“This is My Body; this is My Blood.” Half a dozen words, whispered softly in a supper-room in far-off Jerusalem on the eve of the great national festival nearly two thousand years ago. And, lo! these words have never ceased echoing in the world ever since! There are no other human words of which we are absolutely sure that all day and all night long they are ceaselessly repeated by men’s lips. For you are aware that at each moment the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass is being offered up in various parts of the world by Catholic priests: “This is My Body; this is my Blood.” And, behold, they are creative words, for they have changed the face of the earth. Incessantly they are calling into being that Divine Gift that has more powerfully affected man’s destiny than any other gift of God.

These omnipotent words opened up a new era in the history of mankind; they marked the setting up of a new Throne, the founding of a new Kingdom, the opening of a new Royal Palace, whence the greatest of Kings would rule His loyal and loving subjects for all time to come. And all the splendid pageantry of Church liturgy, the pomp and ceremony of her festivals, the majesty of her myriad cathedrals, the imposing grandeur of her congresses-all are but the outward expression of Catholic devotion and loyalty to Christ the King on His Eucharistic Throne.

CHRIST MUST RULE

Christ must rule. “The Lord God shall give unto Him the throne of David, His Father, and He shall reign in the house of Jacob forever, and of His Kingdom there shall be no end.” Christ must rule, but His rule is not one of force or violence; it is one of love. He has come, to make you enamoured of His Divine beauty, to steal your heart; and, since His majesty as God would overwhelm you, He wraps it round with the mysterious darkness of the Eucharist. He comes in disguise, hidden beneath the sacramental veils.

The Eucharist, then, is Christ’s lover’s Gift-namely, Himself. But it is for you to accept and make use of the Gift. He will not force Himself upon you, just as He did not force His company on people when on earth. He visited Martha and Mary very willingly at Bethania, because He was sure of a loving welcome there. He bade Zaccheus come down quickly from the sycamore tree to receive Him, saying:”This day I must abide in your house.” But He already knew the eagerness of Zaccheus, and that his heart was prepared to receive Him. He joined the two despondent disciples on the road to Emmaus, because they were sad at heart and bewailing His death, and He knew that, if He spoke words of comfort, He would be very acceptable to them.

A LOVING WELCOME

A loving welcome-that is what He wants! How human He is, and how like ourselves! Is there anything can chill and freeze and torture the heart like coldness and indifference on the part of those who ought to show us love? And, on the other hand, how we expand under the sunshine of friendship, affection and a warm welcome!

Well, let me say it reverently, so it is with Jesus. He, too, expands in the sunshine of our affection; He unfolds His plans to us; tells us His secrets, lets us taste the comfort and consolation and sweetness which words falling from His lips must surely be weighted with, and so He fills us with the fragrance of His Divine Presence.

And, by making good use of this Sacrament and Sacrifice, O priests of God, you will join with the sacred company of His special friends. And Jesus will enter into the dwelling-place of your soul as willingly as He entered the happy abode of Martha and Mary at Bethania; He will call to you, as to Zaccheus, to come down quickly and give Him entertainment, and, when you are walking, sad at heart, along the .road of life, which has its particular difficulties for priests, Jesus will join you and speak words of comfort to you, and, after His visit, you will cry out, like the disciples: “Was not our heart burning within us whilst He spoke in the way and opened to us the Scriptures?”

Man is a social being, and finds his chief happiness in social-that is, intellectual and friendly-intercourse with his fellow-creatures. The whole world of art, music and literature is the outcome of this craving of man’s nature for companionship

Every poem, every musical composition, every painting or sculptured statue, is an effort to convey as vividly as possible to sympathetic minds the artist’s feelings, thoughts, experiences, aspirations, convictions.

Hence, man’s worst punishment is enforced solitude. This the governors of prisons well know. The business of cutting off prisoners from all intercourse with other human beings, results normally in madness-the prisoners’ minds are wrecked by the intolerable loneliness and solitude.

Jesus knows that we cannot live without companionship. During His life on earth He Himself constantly sought the society of other men, chose friends, and kept them near Him, except during special seasons of prayer-such as the forty days in the desert. He came to reveal the fact that we are created for companionship-the companionship, namely, of enjoying His Presence and conversation forever. If we fail to reach this, then our lot will be the eternal solitude of hell. But that appalling fate can be ours only if we, decisively, deliberately, and finally reject God’s offer of friendship.

Jesus came to be my Friend. A perfect friend is one who loves you and is solicitous for your welfare; one who supports your weakness, comforts you in sorrow, advises you in doubt, aids you in distress; one who influences you for good, is indulgent to your faults, yet tries to correct them. In a word, he is to you a source of light, and strength, courage and consolation. Such a friend is not easily found. One may have many acquaintances, comrades, chums even, yet not one friend, perhaps, properly so called.

Jesus; the Son of God, came to be our Friend in the highest and most perfect sense of the word.

He said to His Mother when she found Him in the Temple “Did you not know that I must be about My Father’s business?” Now the business which Christ’s Father sent Him into the world to transact was the conversion of sinners. “They that are in health need not a physician, but they that are sick I am not come to call the just, but sinners.”- (Matt. ix., 12–13). And, when sharing His own work with the Apostles, He said: “I will make you fishers of men.”

Jesus Christ is the Master-Fisherman, and the bait He uses to attract His prey is the bait of Love.

He gives palpable and overwhelming proof of His interest in, and affection, for us; His anxiety for our welfare; His desire to enjoy our friendship. And the proof He offers is one recognised by all as the acid test of friendship-viz., self-sacrifice for the sake of the beloved.

The Catholic Church strives to keep the evidence of Christ’s friendship ever vividly and convincingly before the eyes of mankind. The central theme of her preaching is God’s love for us, manifested in the Incarnation. By coming as man, Jesus annihilated the difference between Creator and creature. Now that He is on a level with us, we may enjoy His friendship without being dazzled and terrified by the majesty of His Divinity.

A TWOFOLD GILT

In order to carry out this plan (of being our friend), not only for those who lived with Him in Palestine, but for all generations to come, He founded. His Church and instituted the Eucharist.

In two ways, Jesus, moved by love for his fellow-men, wished to influence each of us and prepare us for Heaven: first, by teaching us His doctrines, ideas and principles; in other words, by filling our souls with the light of Truth. To secure this result He instituted His teaching Church. From the Church we learn all the saving truths committed to her keeping by Jesus for our instruction. Secondly, by coming into personal contact with each of us in Holy Communion. By those visits He makes us realise and try to live according to the doctrines taught by His Church. He strengthens our Faith, Hope and Charity; moves us to the practice of every virtue, and thus cements more firmly the bonds of friendship that link us to Him-the bonds whereby He hopes to hold us as His own forever. Holy Communion, therefore, is the Sacrament of Divine Friendship.

It happened before the battle of Eylau, in 1807. Napoleon was driving the Russians before him as he moved forward towards the town of Eylau, when he found himself held up near Landsberg by a strong force of Russian infantry, posted in a defile, with several pieces of cannon in front. They were separated from the French by a deep ravine, crossed by a narrow bridge.

Napoleon ordered a body of light hussars to cross the bridge and attack. They did so, but were met by such welldirected fire that they beat a hasty retreat. Napoleon then ordered a body of dragoons to advance and break the Russian square. They also failed. Then the cuirassiers were told to advance. These were the heaviest armed troops in the army. Both horses and riders were encased in heavy plates of steel armour, so that when they charged at full speed the impetus was terrific. The General in Command, d’Hautpoul, was an enthusiastic admirer of Napoleon, and to be thus entrusted with a special commission was the most prized of distinctions.

The cuirassiers charged so furiously that the Russian lines were broken, the square swept away and the road cleared for Napoleon’s advance. When General d’Hautpoul rode up to the Emperor to report, ‘Napoleon did a very unusual thing. He dismounted and embraced him before the whole division. Quite overcome by this extraordinary mark of the Emperor’s gratitude and approval, the General, when he had recovered a little, drew up, saluted, and spoke thus: “Sire, ‘there is only one way in which I can show my appreciation of the honour you have conferred upon me today: I must die for your Majesty.” Next day he rode into the thickest of the fight at Eylau and fell mortally wounded.

HEROISM

Think of what it meant for a Commander-in-Chief to know he had men like that serving him! With what confidence he issued orders when he knew his followers were longing to prove their devotion by dying for him! It seems extraordinary that men should set so little store on life as to be ready to fling it away like a bauble for a beloved leader; yet that is what the human heart is capable of. And experience has proved that, when a great call comes which stirs men’s souls deeply, this spirit of self-sacrifice leaps to life, and men and women go smiling to death for the sake of victory.

Jesus Christ knew this, and He came to appeal to this quality in the human soul. He came to wake to living flame the fire of whole-hearted devotion and loyalty; and the story of the Catholic Church during the past nineteen centuries bears witness to the success of His appeal. For the Catholic Church subsists age after age, full of life and energy, in the midst of a hostile world, just because of that fire that is kept ever blazing in the hearth of her children by Christ’s unique appeal. For His appeal is not merely that of the best and greatest, the wisest and most glorious Leader and Captain the world has ever seen, fighting for the noblest cause it has ever been given to men to fight for-it is all that, too, but it is infinitely more. For, through Christ’s lips, God Himself is stooping to ask His creatures for service.

WHAT FEEDS THE FLAME

Read the lives of the saints, who were most remarkable for heroic charity-SS. Dominic, Francis Xavier, Peter Claver, Vincent de Paul, Alphonsus Liguori; study the records of the Sisters of Mercy, and innumerable other Orders of men and women who give up life’s comforts and pleasures to spend themselves in the service of the poor, the sick, the wretched, the outcast. Read the story of Father Damien, who went into exile among the Molokai lepers, and became himself a leper, in order to help these unfortunate wrecks of humanity; contemplate a little the inexhaustible story of Catholic heroism in the cause of charity all down the ages, and ask yourself the question: “What feeds this flame?” What is the source of that intense devotion to the poor and suffering which is characteristic of the Catholic Church in all ages? the answer is: “The enthusiasm, the wish to serve, kindled in the souls of His friends by Christ’s Call, by the appeal of His teaching, His life and example. Their work is the carrying out in actual practice of the high and generous resolve which was formed in their souls when they answered His summons and swore allegiance to Him, and promised to follow Him faithfully till death.”

CO-OPERATING WITH GOD

One of the glorious secrets which Jesus Christ came to communicate to mankind-a secret of overwhelming importance-is that God has definite work for each of us to do; that He is asking each of us to co-operate with Him to bring about certain supernatural results which he is anxious to secure. At first, perhaps, one may be inclined to cry out incredulously: “How can God need MY help for anything whatsoever? Is He not omnipotent? Is it not derogatory to His power and majesty to speak of Him as needing our help to accomplish His purpose?”

Yes, God is omnipotent, but, by His own free choice, He has brought about a state of things in which He needs. OUR help and OUR co-operation so urgently and essentially that, if we fail Him, if we refuse our help (as we may) the work will not be done, and His plans to that extent frustrated. If you ask: “How can this be?” the answer is: “God has bestowed upon man the full and unhindered exercise of that marvellous faculty. It is our FREE service that God wishes to have. He could leave us no choice but to love Him, but then our love would not be the result of our own free will. So that it is true to say that each of us, weak and wretched though we be, has in his keeping a gift which God wants, which we can refuse to give Him if we choose, and which, if we refuse, God cannot force us to bestow upon Him-namely, the gift of our free acts of love and service.”

Those acts constitute an empire over which you are absolute ruler. God will assist you by His Grace. He will give you all necessary interior helps and encouragement, but He leaves your will free. YOU must choose. He will not choose for you.

YOU INFLUENCE OTHERS

For it is evident that we can, and do, influence others and direct them in their choices on the road of life by our work, by our example, by our advice. And God wants us to exercise that influence upon His side in the daily struggle that constitutes life.

The most powerful king or general that ever lived is dependent upon his army for success. Alexander, Hannibal, Caesar, Napoleon were helpless if deserted by their soldiery.

So with Christ. Although He is God, still it is as Man He is carrying on His campaign in this world; making use of human instruments, relying in a human way on the fidelity, the loyalty, the courage, the endurance, the skill of His soldiers for the success of His work.

So that the important thing to realise is that I, personally and individually, am invited by Christ to take a share in that work. He has a special portion allotted to me, and is waiting eagerly to see if I will answer His call and make that use of my life which He intended when He brought me into existence.

The unceasing acts of reverence and adoration offered to Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament, which constitute the liturgical life of the Church and which all her children are summoned, to participate in at least once a week-those acts are forever renewing the faith of Catholics in the divinity of Christ. Why does the Church accept the doctrine of the Eucharist? On the Word of Christ. Apart from His statements, she has no other proof for it. Why does she accept Christ’s words so implicitly? Because she knows He is God, and cannot err or deceive us.

Christ Himself made acceptance of His Eucharistic teaching a test of discipleship-a test of the extent to which men were ready to acknowledge His authority and believe in His Divine power. At Capharnaum, a year before His death, He repeatedly, emphatically, and insistently+ declared that all who wished to be saved must-in some mysterious, and yet unexplained, way-eat of His Flesh and drink of His Blood. People loudly voiced their disapproval of such teaching as wholly incomprehensible and absurd, much after the fashion of modern sceptics and unbelievers. Many even of His disciples were shocked, and cried out: “This is a difficult saying. Who can accept it?” And they turned away and walked no more with Him. Then Jesus spoke to His twelve chosen Apostles, and said, in very decided tones: “Will you also go away?”

It was a crisis in the world’s history. The moment had come to accept or reject Christ’s Eucharistic doctrine. He seems to say: “This doctrine is difficult, I admit. But remember that all power is given to Me in heaven and on earth. I will make good My promise, provided you accept My teaching in simple faith and trust.”

And then from the lips of Peter came the first act of faith in this new revelation: “Lord, to whom shall we go? Thou hast the words of eternal life; and we have believed and hast known that Thou art Christ, the Son of God.”

At that moment, we may say, the Eucharistic Catholic Church sprang into being. That marvellous belief in the Real Presence of Jesus Christ in the Eucharist had begun, which was to transform the world; and has sustained the souls of Christ’s friends ever since.

ACTS OF FAITH

Why did Peter accept this strange, mysterious teaching about eating Christ’s Flesh and drinking His Blood? Simply on Christ’s Word; and, in accepting it, he was making a profound act of faith in Christ’s divinity.

And why do Catholics of the twentieth century reiterate that belief? Why do they kneel in adoration before the altar and receive the Eucharist with such unhesitating conviction that they thereby partake of Christ’s Flesh and Blood? Just for the same reason; because they know that Christ is God, and accept His Word as guarantee for the reality and truth of this great Mystery.

You see, then, how by His Presence in our midst, Jesus is ever stirring us up to acts of faith in the saving doctrine of His divinity.

Now, the part a priest is called upon to play in carrying out this Divine plan may be compared to St. Joseph’s duties as Foster-father of Jesus.

ST. JOSEPH’S OFFICE

St. Joseph was appointed guardian of the Divine Child. Entrusted with the bodily welfare of Jesus, his duty was to support Him, to earn money to buy Him food and drink, to protect Him when danger threatened, to fulfil towards Him all the duties of an earthly father.

The Catholic priest holds a similar position of trust. He, too, has charge of Christ’s Body. His duty, also, is to protect It from attack; not merely from physical violence, but the far more deadly onslaught of those who deny His Presence or insult Him. Jesus has come into the world (His own world, which was made by Him), not as a Conqueror, but as a Visitor, asking for hospitality. The only force He uses to effect an entrance is that of Love. It was so He came to Mary. His messenger, Gabriel, asked her for hospitality, and awaited her consent to receive Him. So, too, when Joseph, in sore doubt, thought of putting away Mary, the heavenly messenger invited him to receive her as his wife, on the ground that she was the Mother of a Divine Child; and it was as such-namely, as being Mother by Divine interposition of a Son that was God Himself-that Joseph accepted her; and, of course, in doing so, in taking over the responsibility of being her husband, he accepted also the responsibility of providing for her Child. It required a strong act of faith to believe this astounding message; it needed heroic confidence to take up such a burden, but, by the special grace of God, Joseph’s soul was strong in both these virtues. Thus, then, Jesus came as a Guest, asking for shelter and hospitality from Mary and Joseph.

THE PRIEST’S VOCATION

So, too, He comes to the priest. A vocation to the priesthood is like the angel’s message to St. Joseph. Along with the assurance of the miraculous Presence of the God-man under the Sacramental Species which faith gives; there comes an invitation to undertake the responsibility of guarding that Presence during the rest of the priest’s life on earth. And the qualities most essential for success in carrying out this work are those which are so prominent in St. Joseph-Faith and Confidence. It is a supernatural office, and only by keeping the supernatural point of view ever uppermost-that is, by walking always by faith-can a priest fulfil his duty. And only by practising heroic confidence in God can he persevere in it, in spite of every obstacle.

Joseph, carrying the Divine Babe in his arms, to save Him for mankind, is a symbol of the priest carrying the Body of Jesus, pressed to his heart, in order to give Him to those in need of Him.

Nihil Obstat:

RECCAREDUS FLEMING, Censor Theol. Deput.

Imprimi Potest:

@ EDUARDUS,

Archiep. Dublinen,

Hiberniae Primas.

Dublini, die 26 Junii, anno 1939

Lovers of Christ

ST. PETER THE GREAT-HEARTED

ST. PAUL THE ZEALOUS MISSIONARY ST. JOHN THE BELOVED DISCIPLE

MGR. JOHN T. MCMAHON, M.A., PH.D

INDEX

ST. PETER THE GREAT-HEARTED

THE twelve men upon whom Christ laid the foundations of His Church were the most interesting group that the world has seen. No two of them were alike; none of them were educated in our sense, and yet, with one exception, all of them fulfilled the task Christ gave them to do. What was St. Peter like, and why did Christ select him as His First Vicar on earth?

St. Peter was a fisherman on the inland Sea of Galilee. He was a successful fisherman for he owned a large boat. Andrew, his brother, brought him to Jesus. “Simon, we have found the Master.” Peter believed Andrew for he came without argument. Christ looked deeply into the eyes of Peter, saying: “Thou art Simon, Son of John. From now on thou shalt be called Cephas, which means rock.” Here at their first meeting Christ indicated what He will do with Peter. Peter did not understand the significance in the change of name, but was so attracted to Jesus that he gave up his active life as a fisherman, and, since his wife was now dead, he became the constant companion of Jesus for three years.

At this time Peter was a young man in his early thirties. He was full of enthusiasm, bubbling over with eagerness and energy. But he was impulsive, hot-headed, and not waiting to think he blurted out whatever came to mind. There was a big share of the Celtic temperament in his make-up Christ saw the qualities of his big heart, and the wonderful potentialities of his generous nature.

On the evening of the day of the multiplication of the loaves and fishes Christ sent the Apostles down to the lake to sail to Bethsaida. Then He told the crowd to go home and went up to the mountain to pray (St. Mark 6, 46). As the night advanced, a storm broke over the sea; the boat was tossed on the waves, and the Apostles had to lower sail and work hard at the oars. In the fourth watch of the night, (3A.M. to 6A.M.) Jesus came to them, walking upon the sea. They were afraid, thinking it was an apparition; but Jesus assured them: “It is I, fear ye not.” Peter could not restrain himself in the boat at seeing the Master. Standing up he cried out: “Lord, if it be Thou, bid me come to Thee upon the waters.” And Jesus said: “Come.” Eagerly Peter jumped overboard and walked on the waters towards Jesus. The great whitetopped waves rushing under his feet frightened Peter, his nerve gave way, and he began to sink, crying: “Lord, save me.” And immediately Jesus stretching forth His hand took hold of him, and said to him: “O thou of little faith, why didst thou doubt?”

Then Jesus with Peter came into the boat, and the wind ceased. “And they that were in the boat, came and adored Jesus saying: Indeed Thou art the son of God.” (St. Matt. 14. 24–33.)

“LORD, TO WHOM SHALL WE GO?”

About daybreak the Apostles berthed their little ship at Bethsaida, where most of them lived, and an hour or so later they accompanied Jesus to Capharnaum. This was to be a memorable day, a day of promise and trial. Many who had witnessed the miracle of the loaves and fishes yesterday, walked around the shore and came to Capharnaum where Jesus was preaching in the synagogue. They interrupted the sermon asking for a sign from Heaven to prove that He was the Messiah.

Jesus gave them the astonishing answer: “I am the living Bread w hich came down from Heaven. If any man shall eat of this Bread, he shall live for ever, and the Bread that I will give is My Flesh, for the life of the world.” A tumult burst forth, and one shrill, incessant cry was heard, “How can this Man give us His flesh to eat?” This question shows that the Jews understood that Our Lord meant exactly what He said. With them it was a question of how can this Man give us His flesh to eat and still live? Jesus answered their “how” by using the solemn double words: “Amen, amen, I say to you, except you eat the Flesh and drink the Blood of the Son of Man, you shall not have life in you.” “Then,” says St. John, “many of His disciples went away, and walked no more with Him.” Jesus let them go, He did not call them back, made no explanation. Instead, He turned to the Apostles, saying: “Will you also go away?” Peter, whom Jesus had upheld on the sea that morning, answered for all. “Lord, to whom shall we go? Thou hast the words of eternal life, and we have believed and have knownthat Thou art Christ the Son of God” (John. 6. 43–70).

Peter, generous loyal, great-hearted Peter, is hurt to the quick by this mass desertion and rushes to defend and to support his Leader. Surely this magnificent profession of faith and loyalty which poured from his heart on the spur of the moment reveals Peter at his best, and at that level there is none of the Apostles his equal.

“AT THY WORD I WILL LET DOWN THE NET”

On that day when Jesus sat in Peter’s boat and from it taught the people, Jesus said to Peter: “Launch out into the deep and let down your nets for a draught. And Simon, answering, said to Him: Master, we have laboured all the night, and have taken nothing, but at Thy word I will let down the net” (St. Luke. 5. 4–5) .

Obeying the Lord’s c ommand Peter cast his net into the sea, and in reward for his humility and confidence caught a miraculous draught of fishes and then realized the doubts he had harboured, doubts born of a life-long experience of this Sea of Galilee, whose every mood and temper he had studied as a fisherman. If old salts could not catch a fish in the dim light of dawn what chance had they in the noon-day brilliance? The others, with incredible grins, watched Peter sail the boat out into the deep, and they chuckled at what testy Peter was thinking and what he should have liked to say to Christ. The reward for Peter’s “at Thy word I will let down the net” was so sudden and startling that urgent signals summoned the other boats to take the overflowing catch. St. Luke tells us ofPeter’s generous reparation for his doubts.

“Which when Simon Peter saw, he fell down at Jesus” knees, saying: Depart from me, for I am a sinful man, O Lord. For he was wholly astonished, and all that were with him, at the draught of fishes which they hadtaken.” (St. Luke. V. 9–10) .

Jesus was grateful for this humble confession, and knowing how hard it was for Peter to keep his tongue from arguing, rewarded him, saying, “Fear not, from henceforth thou shalt catch men” ( St. Luke. 5. 11).

“LOVEST THOU ME?”

St. John records the triple test of love which Jesus put on Peter. “At that time, Jesus said to Simon Peter: Simon, son of John, lovest thou Me more than these? He saith to Him: Yea, Lord, Thou knowest that I love Thee. He saith to him: Feed My lambs. He saith to him again: Simon, son of John, lovest thou Me? He said to Him: Yea, Lord, Thou knowest that I love Thee. He said to him: Feed my lambs. He saith to Him the third time: Lovest thou Me? And he saith to Him: Lord, Thou knowest all things: Thou knowest that I love Thee. He said to him: Feed my sheep.” (St. John 21. 15–17 ) .

When Christ selected the twelve Apostles He did not question them on their birth and breeding, on their schooling and talents, on their wealth or influence. No, He had but one test for an Apostle, namely: “If you love Me, follow Me.” Before St. Peter is appointed Chief Pastor and Shepherd of the lambs and sheep of Christ’s flock, Christ searches Peter’s heart with the triple question: “Lovest thou Me more than these?” Peter took the first two calmly but the third tried him severely, yet, he conquered his natural irritation, and only said: “Surely, Lord, You know me inside and out, and You know that I truly and sincerely love You more than all the rest.” Our Lord must have looked with eyes of gratitude on Peter as He gave him charge of bishops and priests: “Feed My Sheep.”

PETER IN THE GARDEN

Let us watch Peter in the Garden of Gethsemane. He sees the crowd with weapons and sticks threatening Jesus. Up to now he had been dazed, did not quite understand what was happening, for he had slept since supper. But this is something he understands. Peter cannot argue but Peter can fight. He steps forward, a sword flicks out from beneath his cloak, and one of the crowd screams in pain. It is Malchus, servant of the high priest. Jesus turns and rebukes Peter: “Put up thy sword.” Peter hangs on to the sword but the crowd are too many and they wrench it from him. Peter, helpless and unarmed, with tears of rage in his eyes, runs to get the others.

Not finding the others Peter followed the crowd at a safe distance, and got into the courtyard of the high priest. Peter is no coward, and yet, within a short time he denies that he ever knew Christ. A hush falls upon the crowd around the fire. They look up at the balcony to see Jesus being led away by the soldiers. Peter’s eyes meet the eyes of his Master and from that day until his death, nearly thirty years later, Peter’s eyes never dried.

“WHERE ART THOU GOING?”

For twenty-five years St. Peter ruled the infant Church from Rome. In the year 67, Nero, the Emperor, fancied himself as a musician, so he had the bright idea to burn Rome so that he might play better. The fire was a success but the playing was not. Nero blamed the Christians for the fire and a drastic persecution followed. Peter, arguing on human lines, decided that he would be safe out of Rome, so under cover of night he stole out of the city. On the Appian Way he met Christ, coming towards Rome. “Quo vadis?” asked Peter, “Where art Thou going?” “Back to Rome to be crucified again,” answered Christ. Peter took the hint and returned to his martyrdom. His one request to be crucified head down was granted. He was an old man then. His shoulders had tasted the whips of the Romans. His eyes, once farseeing as a keen fisherman, were dim and weak from weeping. His cheeks had deep furrows worn by his constant tears of repentance and love.

What a big-hearted man was Peter!

How we love to think of his unpredictable ways! No calm, calculating lover he: no measuring of his loyalty and devotion. No, he might speak and act first and think afterwards, but how transparent is his sincerity and how deep is his loyalty to his Master !Peter was a man after Christ’s own heart, and it is so easy to see why this great-hearted man was chosen by Christ to be the rock upon which to build His Church.

Even in life how richly Christ rewarded Peter for his love. On Mount Thabor, in His Transfiguration, Christ gave Peter a preview of the Beatific Vision of Heaven, and out from that big heart came Peter’s words: “Lord, it is good for us to be here.” Peter is honoured as the first Pope in return for his great love. Peter was the instrument selected by the Holy Spirit to write some of the Epistles.

* * *

ST. PAUL THE ZEALOUS MISSIONARY

St. Paul fell in love with Jesus Christ on that day he rode to Damascus, when his horse, frightened by a blinding light, threw him to the ground. Lying there Jesus appeared to him, spoke to him, and won him completely. The image of Jesus was imprinted on his mind and kept alive in his heart never to be forgotten. Jesus selected St. Paul in this extraordinary manner because He saw the mighty heart within him, and that heart Christ filled with love and fashioned into the zealous apostle Paul. That vision of Christ did more for St. Paul than any course of study.

St. Paul’s fourteen epistles breathe the spirit of that apparition and come from a heart on fire with love . From that moment his apostleship began. In his remarkable missionary life St. Paul was not so much spreading a cause as following a Person. A personal love of Jesus filled his heart with the driving force of fire that made him all things to all men. Throughout his life, in every circumstance, St. Paul looked inward to Jesus Christ within him as the solution and answer to every question that life brought to him.

“Cor Pauli, cor Christi,” said St. John Chrysostom: “The heart of Paul is the Heart of Christ.” The Apostle himself says: “I live, now not I, but Christ liveth in me” (Gal. 3. 20) . Listen to those glowing words of the big-hearted Apostle: “I count all things to be but loss . . . that I may gain Christ” (Phil. 3. 8).

The Christian ought to “Have the same mind as Christ” (Phil. 2. 5) . Let us always converse with Jesus within our hearts. “Whatsoever you do in word or in work, do all in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ, giving thanks to God and the Father by Him” (Col. 3. 17).

Confidence in Christ abi ding within us makes St. Paul cry: “Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? For in all these things we overcome because of Him that hath loved us. For I am sure that neither death nor life nor angels, nor principalities, nor any other creature shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord” (Rom. 8. 35–39) .

The vision of Jesus Christ inspired St. Paul to pray this grace for each one of us: “That He should grant you according to the riches of His glory to be strengthened by His Spirit, with might unto the inward man, that Christ may dwell in your hearts by faith; that being rooted and founded in charity, you may be able to comprehend with all the saints, what is the breadth, and length, and height and depth, to know also the charity of Christ which surpasseth all knowledge, that you may be filled unto all the fullness of God” (Ep. 1. 3–12) .

THE SPIRITUALITY OF ST. PAUL

The life of sanctifying grace begins at Baptism when Christ enters our souls as a Divine Guest. Through the indwelling Christ we begin to live and grow in holiness. St. Paul tells us: “You are dead and your life is hidden with Christ in God” (Col. 3. “ . By Baptism we are dead to the life of nature; but born again children of God. Christ is within us, to be developed unto the perfect age. We are to put on Christ. St. Paul appeals to us: “Put ye on Jesus Christ. You have been clothed with Christ Jesus” (Gal. 3. 27) . This is the heart of the wonderful doctrine of St. Paul, the principal aim of his preaching, and the recurring theme of his writings. “We have been grafted on Christ” (Rom. 6. 5) , he writes, and as a result our barren and sterile life has been changed into a life bearing fruits unto eternity. St. Paul does not hesitate to exclaim: “For me, to live is Christ, and to die is gain” (Phil. 1. 26). Recall his celebrated comparison with the head and the members of the body. He writes: “For as the body is one, and hath many members: and all the members of the body whereas they are many, yet are one body, so also is Christ. . . . You are the body of Christ and members of member” (I Cor. 12. 12–27).

This idea of St. Paul is the foundation of the whole spiritual life. It is marvellous in its simplicity. The soul in sanctifying grace possesses Christ within her. Our growth in holiness is reduced to one idea which is at the same time a glorious ideal. St. Paul advises us to renounce ourselves in order to allow Christ to do all things in us. At each hour, in every action we perform, let us say to ourselves: “I will not live this act but let Christ live it in me.” It was the practice of St. Vincent de Paul to say to himself before each action: “How would Christ do this ?”

This ideal of making room for Christ by stripping the soul in order to clothe it with Christ was lived and preached by St. John the Baptist. “He must increase, but I must decrease. “ (John 3.30 )

ST. PAUL”S IDEAL LIVED TODAY

St. Paul’s ideal of a life in the Name of Jesus must be applied to our every day living through thinking in the heart. It is an ideal open to all. Jesus is within our hearts through sanctifying grace and consequently our spiritual life will guard that heart of ours, and we shall listen to His whisperings and obey the least impulses He gives that He may live perfectly within us.

The sublime spirituality of St. Paul has a modern interpreter in St. John Eudes, who writes: “As St. Paul assures us that he fills up the sufferings of Christ, so we may say in truth that a true Christian, who is a member of Jesus Christ, and united with Him by grace, continues and carries to completion, by every action performed in the spirit of Jesus Christ, the actions which Christ Himself performed during the time of His peaceful life on earth. So that, when a Christian prays, he continues the prayer of Jesus during His life on earth; when he works be makes up what was wanting to the life and conversation of Jesus. We must be like Jesus upon earth, continuing His life and His actions, doing and suffering all in the Spirit of Jesus, that is tosay, in holy and divine dispositions” (Kingdom of Jesus).

The great Flemish painter, Janssens, has represented in a beautiful picture Jesus Christ standing on the Mount of the Beatitudes with arms outstretched, saying: “My son, give Me thy heart.” This painting symbolizes St. Paul’s doctrine of the Mystical Body of Christ. Christ says to each one of us: “My son, lend Me thy heart, so that I may look upon it as My Own, and cause My virtues to shine forth in it, and in this way continue My life on earth and satisfy My intense love for My heavenly Father.”

The Prophet David in the “Miserere” psalm asks of the Lord: “Create a clean heart in me, O God, and renew a right spirit within me.” In a word, we strive to be one with Jesus. St. Margaret Mary narrates in the notes she left behind her: “The Friday of the Octave of Corpus Christi, after Communion, my Jesus said to me, “My daughter, I have come to you to substitute My soul for yours, My heart and My spirit in place of yours, so that you may henceforth live only by and for Me.” This grace had such an effect that nothing has subsequently been able to trouble the peace of my soul, and my heart has no power except to love God only.”

JOY COMES FROM LOVE OF GOD

Life for all of us is a mixture of joy and sorrow. St.Paul challenges us: “Rejoice in the Lord always, and again I say rejoice” (Phil. 4. 4). God has created us His children for joy. The prayer of Jesus at the Last Supper bids us live in joy. “Holy Father I pray that they may have My joy filled in themselves” (St. John. 17. 13 ).

Joy is a worship to give to God. It is the barometer of the soul. The Church never ceases to rejoice. She counts her days by the feasts. She may march in sorrows and persecutions but her eyes are raised to heaven singing the perfection and love of her Spouse. The Church lives in joy, a joy free, serene and strong, the fruit of love. The good Christian is a sower of joy, that is why he does great things. For joy is one of the irresistible powers of the world; it pacifies, disarms, conquers, and draws to itself. The joyous soul is an apostle, drawing men to God, manifesting what is produced by the presence of God. That is why the Holy Spirit gives this counsel:

“Be not sad, for the joy of the Lord, is our strength” (11 Esdras, 8.10).

St. Paul tells us that because we are children of God through adoption our supernatural vocation is to be joyous. Joy wells up within us because of the abiding presence of Jesus in our souls. “Sursum Corda,” lift up your hearts and be conformed to Jesus, look at Jesus, imitate Jesus, live like Jesus, become Jesus. And this is possible to everyone, priests and religious, virgins and married, old and young, through thinking in the Heart of Him that abides with us for ever.

The lives of the saints assure us that “a merry heart pleaseth the Lord.” When the heroic St. Thomas More staggered his way up the rickety steps of the scaffold, he murmured: “A merry heart goes all the way.” Therefore let us from henceforth fashion our inner selves according to the counsel of St. Paul: “Be ye therefore followers of God, as most dear children: and walk in love, as Christ also has loved us, and hath delivered Himself for us, an oblation and a sacrifice to God for an odour of sweetness” (Phil. 5. 1–2).

ST. PAUL ANSWERS PAIN

Then comes the cross of suffering, mental and bodily, and how shall we bear it? St. Paul has a wonderful answer to the problem of pain and suffering. He writes: “I fill up in my flesh those things that are wanting of the sufferings of Christ” (Col. 1.24). He calls on us to suffer in close companionship with Jesus, “always bearing about in our body the mortifications of Jesus” (11 Cor. 4.7.). “With Christ I am nailed to the cross” (Gal. 2.19) is St. Paul’s determination to imitate Christ’s sufferings and to reproduce His Passion in his own life.

Jesus wishes to reproduce and continue His own life in us, and that includes the Mystery of His Passion. If we build up a habit of thinking like this we shall face sufferings joyfully and bear them valiantly. Thinking in the heart will steel and strengthen us to bear mortification of body and soul in as joyous a way as possible, but always from the motive of love of Jesus. Pain and sorrow help us to make more room for Jesus to live in us. If we get into the habit of looking upon crosses as the means Of substituting our beloved Jesus with His infinite perfections for our worthless selves, we shall grow to love them and become more joyous and courageous in carrying them. To practise mortification means to become Christ-like, to come closer to perfect union with Jesus. This is the thought which ought to animate and strengthen our desire for continual self-effacement. To die to self is not to die, but to be born again to live in God.

* * *

ST. JOHN THE BELOVED DISCIPLE

The feast day of St. John the Evangelist is celebrated two days after Christmas. It is both right and proper that the feast of the chief Evangelist of the divinity of Christ should be held within the Octave to disclose the greatness of the Infant Who lies in the manger. The Infant God in the crib gathers around Him pure souls. Mary is the Blessed Virgin, St. Joseph the chaste spouse, St. Stephen the first martyr who washes his robe in the blood of the Lamb, and then St. John the virgin apostle. Crowned with the halo of those who knew how to conquer their flesh, for this reason St. John became “the disciple whom Jesus loved, and who also leaned on His breast at the Last Supper” (St. John. 21. 20) . Thanks to his angelic purity St. Jobn was filled with the divine wisdom of the love of God and in the Epistle of the Mass of St. John the Church applies to him a celebrated passage from the Book of Wisdom. “She shall fill him with the spirit of wisdom and understanding, and shall clothe him with the robe of glory. The Lord our God shall heap upon him a treasure of joy and gladness, and shall cause him to inherit an everlasting name” (Ecclesiasticus 15. 6.).

This gift of the wisdom of the love of God won for St. John the title of Doctor and the Introit of his Mass is the one the Church uses in the Common of Doctors. It is to St. John who wrote the fourth Gospel, three Epistles, and the Apocalypse, that we owe the most beautiful pages on the Divinity of the Word made flesh. St. John received the halo of martyr, since he only escaped a violent death by the special protecttion of God. He was last of the Apostles to die.

THE APOSTLE OF LOVE

Well indeed has St. John said: Having loved His own who were in the world, He loved them to the end.” Love tends always to union. Throughout His active ministry Jesus had striven to attract men to Himself in love. This was the object of the whole nights He spent in prayer on the hills of Judea. His many miracles, His tender pity to the sick and suffering, and His earnest exhortations sought to win man’s love. Even His severe reproofs and denunciations were but efforts to save by fear those who could not be won by love. At the Last Supper it is all love. His parting gift is Himself “to you and to many” in Holy Communion, the perfect union of perfect love. When they had received Holy Communion, Jesus said to the apostles: “Little children, yet a little while I am with you . . . A new commandment I give unto you: That you love one another as I have loved you” (St. John. 13. 33–34) .

It was a new commandment: the old one, as Jesus quoted it to the scribe, was: “Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself” (St. Mark 12. 31) . But this new one is to love our neighbour as Jesus did, even to the utter abandonment of self. It was new also in this respect, that the Jews regarded no one as a neighbour who was not of their own race, whereas this commandment embraces all mankind. Further, it was new, because henceforth, not fear, but love, was to be the moving principle in all our service of God.

This new commandment which Jesus gave to the Apostles at the Last Supper when they had received their first Holy Communion so impressed Peter, James, and John, that later, writing their Epistles, they dwell upon it as essential for all.

SOARS LIKE AN EAGLE

St. John is symbolised by the noble eagle with fire in his blood. No hovering near the ground for the king of the air. No, up he soars into the clouds. The other three evangelists, Saints Matthew, Mark, and Luke, give us a synopsis of the life of Christ on earth. They are historians, faithful chroniclers of events. St. John fired by his deep personal love of Christ soars to the heights of the Divinity of Christ.

The Holy Spirit in gratitude for his intense love of Christ inspired St. John to write the fourth Gospel as a proof of the Divinity of Christ. In the Apocalypse St. John tells us the rewards that await those who on earth love Jesus Christ. “And I John saw the holy city, the new Jerusalem coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband” (Apocalypse 21, 2.). On this earth St. John had rich and rewarding returns for his love. He is one of the special three who were invited to Mt. Thabor to catch a glimpse of what St. Paul says “eye hath not seen nor ear heard what joys theLord has prepared for those who love Him.”

At the Last Supper St. John was beside Our Lord and was permitted to lean his head on the Lord’s bosom to hear the heartbeats of that loving God. It was St. John that accompanied Mary to Calvary and from the Cross was appointed Mary’s son and support. “Behold thy mother,” words from the Cross, opened out a new life for St. John, a life into which Mary entered as his mother, and he became her second son, her other priestly son.

MASS IN MARY”S PRESENCE

It was his great joy and honour to say Mass in the presence of Mary, to consecrate the Sacred Host, and place It upon Mary’s tongue, saying: “Mary, behold thy Son. Behold the Lamb of God Who takest away the sins of the world.” What a sacred moment that was upon which the angelic court of Heaven gazed in wondrous admiration

Who could have said a more acceptable Mass than St. John, inspired and helped by Mary’s presence and by Mary’s praying the Mass with him! Let us invite the beloved disciple to kneel beside us at Mass and to share with us his faith in the Real Presence, and his love and gratitude for such a gift as the Blessed Eucharist as Sacrament and Sacrifice. It was St. John’s distinction to be at the Last Supper to hear Christ’s command to His priests: “Do this in commemoration of Me.” He stood beneath the Cross, broken-hearted indeed but enlightened as no other Priest has been in the Divine Mystery of the Sacrifice of the Cross. For the years following Good Friday he offered the Mass with Mary present to link in his offering the Victim of Calvary and the Victim of the Mass, Jesus Christ Whom Mary and St. John loved beyond human imagination. Then when Mary is assumed into Heaven St. John receives the gift to write from his heart his Gospel, his three Epistles, and the Apocalypse.

He lived to a great old age, blessed with a deep peace of soul, and supreme confidence in the love of Christ. To all who gathered around him as the last living witness of Jesus Christ St. John spoke of charity, the love of God and the love of one’s neighbour for God’s sake, as words of wisdom winnowed from such a long and eventful life. His last years were echoes of his Master’s last words spoken at the Last Supper: “Little children! A new commandment I give unto you that you love one another as I have loved you. By this shall all men know that you are my disciples, if you have love one for another” (St. John. 13. 33–35) .

Nihil Obstat:

W. M. Collins,

Censor Diocesan

Imprimatur:

@ D. Mannix

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis 14th January, 1958

********

Loving God

FROM A SERIES OF CONFERENCES GIVEN BY FR. D. CONSIDINE, S. J

INDEX

I

LIFE MORE ABUNDANT

“I AM come that they may have life, and may have it more abundantly.”

It is a good thing sometimes to have one thought running through a series of conferences. I propose this one of life. By which I mean, of course, supernatural life, the full use of all of our faculties, senses, powers, in the knowledge and love of God.

But we don’t use them. To begin with, we are very blind, we live in a mist, and see nothing clearly. The Providence of God means little to us; we hardly acknowledge that even what we have prayed for comes from God. Our Lord asked that poor man who came to Him what he wanted: why, that he might see. And this is what we must pray for. God says to us: “You ask Me to help you to love Me, but you won’t look at Me! You don’t know Me. Ask for sight.”

Next, we are very deaf. They say people are getting more so nowadays, on account of the increasing noise and high tension in which they live. We can’t expect a flash of lightning and a roar of thunder from God; we must attune our ears to a still small voice. The Holy Ghost usually whispers-doesn’t shout. But even if we hear His whisper we take no notice. “God can’t mean that for me, poor me!” He does: He means each of us to be a Saint.

A s we advance in years the atmosphere gets clearer; we see better. We can trace God’s work in our own souls. (It is comparatively easy to do so in the history of a nation or a Community.)

We see how, so many years ago, He sent that illness, that misfortune, which has brought us nearer to Him. We realize the countless jewels-graces, inspirations, opportunities-we are in danger of losing daily if we don’t look out for them.

Let us then begin by praying that we may hear-that we may see.

II

GOD OUR LOVER

“YEAI have loved with an everlasting love; therefore have I drawn thee, taking pity on thee” (Jeremias xxxi. 3). God doesn’t change. He is Eternal. People are apt to think that in the Old Testament He is the God of Justice; in the

New, the God of Mercy-which idea is quite untrue. He was and He is the God of Love and the whole of Time has been one long preparation for the coming of God as a little child at Christmas.

It is difficult to get a true idea of God from the world as we see it today -a place for people to get lost in, as it seems. To understand Him we must go back, not in imagination but in memory and thought-for it really happened-to the time when God in His Love created two human beings, and place them, not in a dungeon, but in a paradise of pleasure to be for ever happy with Himself.

It is a pity to be afraid of looking difficulties in the face, and we may put two in the form of questions:

1. If God is so loving, why didn’t He make people and then take them immediately into Heaven before they could get lost?

2. Or why didn’t He create just those souls who were sure to be saved and no others?

1. Our nature is such that it hardly values what it gets gratuitously; it would be a tame sort of Heaven we hadn’t to work for, and God wanted us to have the very best Heaven that could be. And if we loved Him, He wanted to give us the very best opportunity of proving our love; our whole nature cries out for this.

2. If none were created but the good and perfect: if we had no one to be patient with, no one to bear anything for-if nothing but piety were the fashion, why, we should be killed with ennui. A dull world! No one to admire for one thing, for we cannot help admiring those who are faithful in spite of obstacles, patient under difficulties. And to be worthy of admiration there is no need to be preaching or going on foreign missions, etc. It is enough to love God. To go back to this earliest manifestationof God’s love-this idyll, in which God walked with His creatures in the afternoon, and talked with them as a Father with His children-no sort of embarrassment, all love and confidence. If this triduum could only make you full of trust in the Love of God it would be well spent.

I am afraid if God were to come and ask us to take an afternoon walk with Him here, we should say: “Oh no, not me- I shouldn’t know what to say.”

There are two ideas we must seize:

I. This world, with its hospitals, its wars, its dying children, its starving people, is not the world God intended it to be. He gave us free-will. He did not wish to be served by slaves-and we have made it what it is. As to the explanation of the presence of wicked people in it, St Augustine says they are meant to exercise the virtue of the good, who (I) strive to convert them and bring them to God, and (2) are tried and proved by them.

2. This world of our soul, in which our passions torture us and try to gain the upper hand is also not as God intended it to be: He meant our senses and passions to be subject to reason, and all to Him.

Thus God always was, God is our Lover. Let us think of this when our soul is racked with troubles of any kind; the people and the troubles round us, as things are, are just a greater proof of His Love. He wants us to have a better Heaven. Let us hold on to that idea of His Eternal Love, the same in the garden of Eden as when He became a little child for love. His desire is that there should be intimacy, confidence, between the Creator and the creature.

III

Confession

A PHYSICIAN examining you enquires if different organs are doing their work, if heart, lungs, etc., are all right. In the same way, in these conferences, which, whatever else they may or may not be, ought to be practical, we shall make enquiry about the two main channels of grace in the spiritual life-Confession and Communion.

Today I shall lay before you some thoughts which are not original, but which may be a means of light. The Holy Spirit is always moving on the face of the waters, and they may do good to one soul or another.

Confession ought to be a relief, something to look forward to: if it is not, then we ought to go down on our knees and ask God to tell us why it is not, and what we are to do to make it so. Why should it be a bore? Why should it be, as it is to some, a torture? Our loving Father and God wants to make things easy and happy for us-He knows we none of us like to be teased and nagged. Confession ought to be just the time when God is sure to give us devotion. Odd if we look at it as a mere item in theweek. “We are going to see God!” Oh but we go so often.” Fancy if we made the same objection to going to see any dear friend, and looked upon it as a conventional nuisance made worse by happening so often.

We ought to be deeply grateful to God for allowing us to do it so often.

As to the sins. As long as we are in the same place, we shall have the same temptations, and consequently much the same kind of faults; but there ought to be a diminution either in the number or in the intensity of the faults.

I once asked a person how long she had been confessing these same faults, and she answered cheerfully: “Oh, for the last forty years.” Fancy acknowledging that you haven’t bothered to overcome a fault-say drumming your fingers on the table-to please an earthly friend, for even five years. It is not the fault which is so great as the habit of mind this shows.

Some say it is a mystery how they have had a fault for so long-for instance, not being able to put up with the peculiarities of one’s neighbour (at the Office). It is no mystery: they haven’t taken the trouble, but take it for granted they must say the same sins time after time, so that in many cases after the first few words a Confessor would be able to prompt them. My advice is, mention very few sins, say three. I gave this in an instruction to a Religious Community, and a nun said to me afterwards:

“But my Confessor would have a fit if I only said three!” I don’t know whether Confessors get fits so easily.

Do this: Ask your bosom friend to tell you what she thinks is your chief fault- what really keeps you back from God. She will want the courage of a V.C. to tell you, but if she has it, she will say: Selfishness, Conceit, etc., as the case may be. Work at that fault in your Confessions, and if asked how you are progressing, don’t say: “Oh, I really don’t know,” that is not the frame of mind out of which Saints are made. Take care and pains. We could not keep friends with anyone we treated as badly as we treat God. Make if you like a little chart of your spiritual condition, though you need not leave it about initialled. And make your Confession in such a way as to pinch yourself, mentioning circumstances, e.g. which make your fault more mean. You are not obliged-but God will repay you by giving you more devotion than ever at Holy Communion.

IV

GOD’S MERCY

YOU see that I do not keep to any fixed plan in these conferences; I simply speak of anything which may bring out the goodness and the love of God. When God created Adam as He did, He was forced to allow sin, and its consequent misery of every kind. And why? Because God is absolutely sincere and simple. He is the most plain and simple Being there is, and it is because we do not understand Him that we do not love Him. He gave Adam free-will, and He meant it. He is not like men, who so hedge themselves in when they grant anything, and use such meaningless language that we do not know where to have them. We must have a true idea of God’s designs in Creation-set up a counter-influence to the prevailing ideas of the day. Men think of Him as an angry God. No, He is a loving, merciful God. His mercy, like all His attributes, is infinite, and if you want to prove it, presume upon it.

Take this as your first indication:

What does Holy Church say about that almost glorious sin of Adam-for she acclaims it-Oh happy fault, Oh truly necessary sin of Adam which has merited such a Redeemer. God’s designs were partly frustrated, but not entirely, for He saw fresh means of showing His Love. But for this sin, some theologians say He would never have become Man.

God never changes: when He forgives a sin it is forgiven and wiped out of His memory. He does not continue, as we so often do, to bear a grudge: He does not say, as we so often do, “I forgive you, but we can never be the same again.” It is this difficulty in believing God has forgiven them entirely which probably hinders many from becoming great Saints.

The relations of God with the Jewish people make a good parable of His dealings with our own soul. How He chose them out of all nations, took them for His own people, made Himself their King. How He loaded them with favours, made Himself their Pillar of Cloud by day and of Fire by night. How they, in return, made themselves a golden calf, fell down and worshipped it: sought after earthly kings like the nations round about them. How, when He condescended to their wishes and gave them a King, they never ceased rebelling against Him. We might waste much breath in calling them stiffnecked, hard-hearted, etc.- but let us return to ourselves: are we not very like them? Do not good people again and again tell God they will be devoted to Him if only He will make some little amendments in their lives which they would suggest? Are we ever satisfied with what He does? Are we ever grateful?

Another parable: the ground must be prepared before the seed can be sown. Had not God devoted thousands of years to preparing the Jews for His coming among them as a little Child? And yet when He did come, in the fullness of time, at the right moment, they were unprepared, and all that He did was misunderstood. In the same way, we need sight, we need hearing if we are to understand God’s ways with us. We misunderstand Him, we do not trust His love which never changes.

V

UNDERSTANDING GOD

THE three evils of past times as well as our own are:

1. Creatures forget God.

2. Creatures misunderstand God.

3. Creatures, not finding God, turn to other creatures, and make little gods of their own.

Now God is not only most lovable but also most loving, and His one wish is that His creatures should be at home with

Him, with the feelings of children for a Father, and He wished to get Himself understood by becoming Man. So long as He was just God, He seemed separated from us by an impassable gulf. It is true we can overcome this difficulty as long as we do what God wants: but He is out of sight, and it is so easy to forget Him. There was only one way: that was to take upon Himself that nature which we understand because it is our own.

He would pass through all the stages of life, beginning as a little Infant like us all: and this would be the most satisfactory answer to all our difficulties. He would be a God who could be a companion to us. How would He manage this-this the most wonderful work of His Hands?

1. He would be born of a most pure virgin.

2. But what rank would He take? He was the Creator, the King. Surely He would be born in a palace made by Angels-or if this were too striking a miracle, He might take one of the magnificent palaces of Herod. But He didn’t want to stun or frighten His creatures. He wanted accessibility, and He was born where all could get at Him, laid on a little straw. It is true there was the Angel’s message, but that was necessary for the fulfilling of the prophecies to show that the Promise was come.

3. And what were the circumstances of His coming? They all showed that He wished to attract by His Poverty, Simplicity, Weakness.

He wants to be easily known by us and by this fact that the memory of Him should be full of pleasure. When we are hurt by the coldness of the world, let us turn to the fire of God’s love-to the God who never disappoints, who is always loving, always attractive, always elevating, always comforting. If we think of Him under any other form, then we may know we have the wrong idea. And if God is Father and Mother to me, all the world may cast me out, and what does it matter, when my Maker wants me for a friend? My friends tire of me, I know that because I tire of them, but what does it matter as long as I do not doubt His gentleness and lovableness, and know that He loves and looks for my poor little service?

So much for the forgetting and misunderstanding of God, now for the turning to creatures.

Creation is from God, and whatever has His hallmark is full of beauty. The world around us is most beautiful, but still more the human creatures in it-we know their power over our hearts. In old times-and indeed in our own-men went mad with love of riches-power-the pleasures of the senses. How could God remedy this? By taking for Himself the opposite of what the world made a god of. For riches, He took Poverty, for pride-Humility, for luxury- the absence of all comfort.

Books are dry things: we learn best from a Person, and Our Lord’s Doctrine is Himself. Here is the work of Christmas: to make us see that in proportion as we imitate Him we shall be happy. All true life consists in sharing the life of Our Lord. He is flesh of our flesh and bone of our bone, and all of us should feel that He is our life, for He has given us a heart so exquisitely fashioned that it can only be happy in the full possession of Jesus.

Emmanuel. God with us. God wants to be a great deal with me. Ask Him to teach us His love, His view of things: for that is the only true view for me. Let me seek His company who alone can change all bitterness into sweetness, all sorrow into happiness- the only One who can give me content.

VI

HUMILITY

I WANT to speak in this and the following conferences of the Virtues characteristic of Our Lord’s Sacred Childhood, and first of His Humility. And yet I don’t quite like the way we have of chopping straws- cataloguing Him as if He were a Museum; we don’t sufficiently look upon Him as a human being like ourselves, taking the impression which He makes upon us as a whole: and in this way we rather lose touch with the influence which ought to come from Him. If you want to know how to deal with Him, you have only to look at what goes on in your own lives. We are made to the image and likeness of God, I and how do our fellow-creatures impress us with like or dislike? Not by lists of their virtues or bad qualities, but by themselves as a whole. Often we cannot give an account of why we love them. No, the way is, open your bosom to Him to receive Him as He is. In our scientific elaborations we don’t get a life-like image of God, but miss getting really nearer to Him. Thus I purposely don’t give these conferences in such a form that you can easily refer to them afterwards, but-I am talking to you about Our Lord, and that is all. Treat Him as a human being, not in sections. Some, in their anxiety to get all done, get nothing done.

God Himself is our model and teacher—it doesn’t matter what anyone else says or doesn’t say. But if a certain aspect of Our Lord’s life strikes you, dwell on that. You won’t get the love of Our Lord by adding up His virtues, but by the general impression He makes on you. If He makes you feel: “The love of God is easier than I thought it was”-you will have received some good.

Humility is most important for us: it is the virtue which, helps us most. It is the virtue of every day in the week; it is an atmosphere out of which we ought never to come. It is indispensable for the working of God in the soul. Give God humility, and He will do anything for you; refuse God humility, and you put a bar which God’s power can’t or won’t break down.

How could Our Lord be humble at all? is the question of people who think that humility means to have a low idea of self. It doesn’t mean that, but to have a true idea, which is quite another thing. It takes us a long time to get to the bottom of things-to the truth of the matter. God doesn’t want you to think yourself very bad when you are not. You may know you are sweet-natured, that people like you, that you have a lot of sense; and you may think you couldn’t be humble and think all that of yourself. You can, and you would displease God by thinking the opposite. God wants truth. St Paul thanks God for the great things He has wrought in him- and there is our dearMother’s Magnificat.

We ought to try to have the same opinion about ourselves that God has. What opinion had Our Lord of Himself? He could not have had a bad one; but His Human Nature was infinitely below that of God, and He showed His Humility in all His actions. The mere fact of His becoming Man was an infinite humiliation. This we can bring home to ourselves by imagining ourselves taking a lower nature than our own, preserving the use of reason and yet hiding it, and being treated by all as if we had it not. The humiliation would be terrible. Everyone treated Our Lord as a little child, later on as a mere man, not having the Infinite Knowledge, the Infinite Power which were His. Beside this, how do our little notions of the respect due to us look-our little losses of temper, our feeling that people don’t know the great things God has done for us?

So He wants us to love Him and watch Him, and we will ask Him to remind us that if our whole life were passed in the deepest humiliations, it could not come near one day of what He underwent-the great God becoming Man. Ask Him to show us the truth: if He was content with such humiliations, what business have you and I to be running about trying to make ourselves respected?

VI

COUNSELS-THOUGHTS

WHAT does the Spiritual Life really consist in? Is God a sort of person who does not show His Hand at once, and keeps us in a state of suspense? It is a sign of want of light if our conscience is in a state of timidity. Isn’t the Spiritual Life a sort of puzzle, a maze: doesn’t God wish us to be more or less in doubt, not quite “happy”? Are not seasons of depression and doubt signs that God is going to lead us higher? God is a God of love and light. So many think of Our Good God as if He were some sort of tyrant.

Now, by way of correcting these false ideas:

What God wishes is that you should love and trust Him. Whatever distresses you distresses God. One of the best tests of sanctity is always to be thinking how good God is.

How are we to renew our strength? Some seem to think we can’t overcome habitual faults-temper, etc. We can, altogether. Speaking quite sanely and soberly we must say to ourselves: this is not conduct worthy of the friend of Christ. We shan’t draw near to God as long as there is any habit under which we sit. You must go to the root of it, and we should have no doubt as to the ultimate results. You need not pull so many faces over it, and hug yourself with the thought that seasons of darkness and bitterness are sent by God in preparation for higher things. It may be so, but it is most unlikely, and God is telling no lie when He says: “My Yoke is sweet, and My Burden light.”

Now quite a number of spiritual books are quite wrong about the way to go to the root of faults. Take Charity. They say: First conquer thoughts-then words-then deeds. Just the other way about: thoughts are not nearly so much under our control as words, and still more deeds. Look after deeds, then words, against Charity, and thoughts will gradually die out. Apply this to any difficulty whatever in the Spiritual Life. Half the trouble of modern life comes from paying so much attention to thoughts, feelings, daydreams. The less you trouble about them the better. So many excellent people waste time beating the air, horrified at the thoughts which come into their mind; or, again, worrying about what other people think of them, which they can only judge of by their own thoughts: or, again, about their distractions in prayer, which are of no consequence. Ask them if they think they are pleasing God. “Oh, I can’t expect to know, I oughtn’t to care!” Small compliment to God! If people love us and we love them, we like them to know it, and there is no harm in knowing it. God wishes you to know He loves you, and as for you, you couldn’t want to love God unless you did love Him. “But I never know if I am doing His Will.” It is the easiest thing in the world to do. Simply want to do it and it is done.

Even if you are like the fat man who drank vinegar to make himself thin to please God, it will be all right.

Don’t be like the ass who died of hunger between two bundles of hay because it did not know which to eat first. Go ahead.

No. God is not so unreasonable or so without heart as to give you Himself, Body and Soul, every morning and refuse you lesser graces. Believe this, that nothing hurts His Sacred Heart so much as for you to say that that Sacred Heart does not love you immensely, immeasurably.

VIII

HUMAN RESPECT

I AM going to say something about Human Respect. It is something you will not find in a child. Let us be sure of its definition. It is taking the judgements of men as worth more than the judgements of God. I was lately reading notes of the thirty days’ Retreat of Father de la Colombiêre and was struck by this sentence: “Human Respect is one of the greatest enemies of Religious Life.”

People outside probably think of it as something utterly beyond holy nuns; but I am afraid that it is an enemy even of Religious, even of those who try to give their whole selves to God. St Teresa of Avila, at the beginning of her conversion, says that one of her greatest difficulties was-the opinion of her Sisters. We know that the standard of a whole community is never so high as that of some of its members, and it is never a good thing to say: “Oh, I do as the rest do.” God judges us one by one, not as a corporation: each of us exists for Him as if there were no one else, and not even to Our Blessed Mother would He sacrifice one of our souls. There is not a detail in this world that He has not arranged expressly to suit us, foreseeing from all eternity how it would affect us. If we are told that something we do is quite unworthy of a Catholic and reply: “Oh, but others do it,” that will not please Him, for it is of no use trying to hide behind the rest. This tends to isolate us more and more (by which I do not mean separating ourselves from others or coldness of heart towards them), but standing on our own feet, and regarding merely what God wants.

Whether He wants these things from others or not isn’t you r business-only attend to giving your whole heart to pleasing God, not others. “I’ve given you a heart,” God says to you; and perhaps you may reply:

“You’ve given me a heart that is not up to very much”-but nevertheless it is meant to please and imitate Him, and not So-and-So, however good she may be.

We get wrong ideas sometimes from reading a Saint’s life-”She did such a thing, and I’ve never done it.” God won’t examine you on what the Saint did but on what you have done.

Sometimes even our love and admiration for each other may be a danger to us, in that we think we must imitate them. No. “Be ye perfect as your Heavenly Father is perfect.” Imitate Our Lord. Again I say: stand on your own feet. In Religious life there is a tendency to herd together. “I break Rules, of course I do; but so do others. A Rule is only a Rule.” “But God wishes it.” “What does that matter?” How can God help being hurt at being treated with such little consideration? Wouldn’t you be hurt if a friend treated you so?If you are on God’s side, i.e. if you treat Him as you would a friend, all will prosper with you.

You must make for this isolation from the opinion of others as one who must give an account of self. It is quite common in any group of people to find much Human Respect-that we are afraid to do something God wants because of the tongues of others. It is one of the greatest blights on perfection. We naturally value the opinion of the holy: but let us stand or fall to Our Master, God alone. What comfort when I am doing what God wants. Suppose you do make a mistake: well, God won’t mind if your will is good.

What others think has a paralysing, constricting effect. Ask yourself: “Whom am I really to take as my standard?”- Take Him, who will never ask of you anything you cannot do.

IX

PRAYER

I AM going to speak on Prayer. In my opinion it is as much a mistake to set apart any definite time for prayer, as for breathing, or for one’s heart to beat: we should never dream of setting aside other times in which to go without breathing.

The old monkish saying is true: Laborare est orare.* It is not a joke, as some people think-those lazy monks, they wanted to get out of praying-but a reality. For the essence of the Spiritual Life is doing God’s Will-putting oneself in communication with God, and that is all prayer is.

It ought to be difficult for us to make a distinction between times of prayer and times of not praying, for it all consists in our will being in union with that of God. So much for preface.

I will begin by saying it is an illusion to talk of prayer as of something you do with your mind. No, it is something you do with your heart. I am not speaking now of what they call prayer of affection. I mean, the very essence of prayer is communication with God-through the will being in unison with Him. It is a question of the heart: we can always control our heart, but not our mind. “I never could pray, Father; my mind is not made that way, I never could fix it.” Bother your mind-what mind you’ve got! distractions of the mind don’t matter; you’ve not got to fix *To work is to pray. your mind on God the whole time. You come into the church to please God: you kneel down: you have something to worry you: you think about it: all sorts of thoughts pass through your mind-even shocking thoughts. But God is in your heart. You might see His Face brighten as you came in-there are not so many to visit Him; and you have only got to say to Him: “You’ve made my mind- it can’t help wandering.” But you have given your heart to God, that is why you are there-and it is all He wants. When fellow-creatures love one another, it is a pleasure merely to be together. So it is with God and us. Don’t mind those dreadful people who are always talking about distractions. A distraction of the heart, which is the only one that matters, would be getting up and going out; that is plain enough I think. As long as you are there of your own accord you are giving your heart to God. And here what I said before comes in again: if we want to please God, we do so, all day long. If we want to be with Him, we are. Attitudes don’t matter. So bury all that nonsense about distractions. Prayer consists in only one thing; we want to get into communication with God.

Some people think God wants information, and tell Him a long story. Well, if they do so in simplicity, it is quite a good prayer. But if you like, simply come and present yourself-no words needed. Don’t forget sanctification comes from God, not self.

“How did you begin your visit?” “I began with nothing.” “What acts did you make?” “I made nothing.” “What resolu- tions?” “Nothing.” “What results?” Well, where did that peace come from which gradually filled my soul? A change was wrought in me by someone who knew all the windings of my heart without my telling Him anything: comforted me, drew out the thorn of suffering. God values me more than 10,000 worlds. He is so pleased by my visit, does not stop there, but loves me all day through. You don’t think a person you love cares for you only at certain hours; when you meet, it is true the love springs up; but it is there all day. The same with God and you. The more easy you are at your prayer, the more at home and like a child, the more He is pleased.

Now: how must I get rid of distractions? Don’t get rid of them. If you are walking down a street, and a little dog barks at you, you may, if you like, throw stones and chase it; but a sensible person passes on. And if you have a distraction, don’t make a face, so that everyone wonders what has happened to So-andSo. Don’t go in too much for reciting the beautiful prayers of the Saints. God wants to hear your voice, notyour imitation of someone else’s.

Nothing is easier than Prayer.

X

SIMPLICITY

SIMPLICITY is the next great virtue to be studied in Our Blessed Lord’s Childhood, not that the Gospels say anything about it, but we know it from Our Lord’s whole character and from what distinguishes all children. “As simple as a child” is a common phrase-a child acts and speaks as if everyone were good and to be trusted. The derivation of the word is perhaps from sine plica-without fold-everything to be seen which is there. It is a most noble virtue, characteristic of God Himself-for He is without any deceit or guile, and has no ulterior motive in what He says to us. The reason why a person is not simple is, that instead of giving all her attention to what she says, she is looking all round it and its consequences. Look at the conduct of Our Lord compared with that of the Pharisees- so simple-so direct. He never tried to make people think that in following Him they would have no troubles; on the contrary: “If any man will come after Me, let him deny himself . . .” (Matt. xvi. 24). He never held out false promises. He never truckled to persons in power as He might easily have done. He had, as we say, no axe to grind, no private ends of His own. We have got a habit of thinking of things not as they are in front of us, but bringing in all sorts of other things: e.g., we want to explain matters so that no one shall think we are to blame. Even in ordinary conversation it is so difficult to find a person who is purely simple. Such a one speaks of things as she sees them-you feel there is nothing behind, that she has no axe to grind. She does not speak in order to shine or monopolise the conversation, but simply because she has something to say. She may be wrong, and if she is contradicted she is not huffed, for she only wants truth. Our Lord was so plain, so simple, so direct; and if you are simple, you can do anything with God. Go to God, and say from your heart that you are a dreadful sinner, and He will do anything for you. Nothing pleases God more than when without phrases you acknowledge your sin and say you are sorry for it. The publican: “OLord, be merciful to me a sinner”; the Prodigal Son: “Father, If have sinned against Heaven and before Thee.”

My first bit of advice to you is: -Don’t want to be highly thought of by others. If you do, it almost invariably makes you look after your good reputation in everything and warps what you do or say-you want to “get well out of it.” No soul is more favoured by God than a simple soul; He Himself always means what He says. Take for instance the well known “seek first the kingdom of heaven,” or “My yoke is sweet and my burden light.” A simple soul might turn to God and say: “Lord, You have said this; but I don’t find Your yoke sweet or Your burden light,” and God would make it so for her. We must believe, the saints are those who take God literally; they accuse themselves of their faults without any attempt to defend themselves.

Again I repeat: don’t set much store on the opinion of others. How often the opinion of men is mistaken- how little good it does us if we have it. Yet we find people most anxious to please superiors, not in order to please God-for that would be simplicity- but for ends of their own.

Secondly: Defend yourself as little as possible. What valuable time is wasted in proving that we did know where Timbuctoo is! Letit go against you; it is an excellent way of getting nearer to God. It doesn’t matter a row of pins what other people think, unless of course you are in a position of authority and other people are involved. You are in God’s Arms-speak to Him about it, and no harm will come of it. How hard it is, I repeat, to find a perfectly simple person: one whom you can trust to speak truth; or who, if she makes a mistake, does not mind being set right, and whose mistakes do not come from selfishness; one to whom you can go in trouble, and who will rather give you no advice at all than give it to you for ends of her own, or what she thinks you will like; who is true to you through thick and thin.

God loves truth. God hates self-defence. If we are simple with Him we shall advance high in His favour, and He will work great things through us. Yes, when God finds a soul that works for Him and is not trying to get a bit for herself- through that soul God will work great things.

XI

“WHY YOU DO IT”

I PROPOSE to speak on some of those principles of the Spiritual Life concerning which Our Lord says that He came, that we might receive more abundantly, principles which are in danger of being obscured in our daily routine, and which nevertheless underlie all things. God gives us a sort of instinct in the matter: they are part of that common sense of which we say there is nothing more uncommon.

All improvement in our Spiritual Life comes from God. We are inclined to lose heart, we don’t seem any better than we were. I often run the risk of shocking people when I reply: “Better? All that matters is that I should be loving God more.” Do you love God? That is the question. The less we have to do with these financial calculations, this stiffness and starch, this having everything planned out, the better. The longer we live, the easier, the more full of zest the Spiritual Life ought to become, and the younger we ought to feel about it. On the contrary, when everything, prayers, acts, etc., are done by routine, the spiritual muscles tend to stiffen, senile decay, as we are told to call old age, comes on, and we grow harder in everything, even our judgements of others. Anything you do without heart soon becomes a bore.

Now if I want this improvement, this youth, it is to God I ought to go -not myself. Get this well into your head, and you will never have any cause for despondency at all! I am so apt to think that if I were more fervent I should succeed better.

It doesn’t follow. It all depends on what God does. Our improvement in the Spiritual Life does not come from self- but from God. I may do all my spiritual duties most perfectly and exactly, but if God is not in it, I shall not be one whit the better.

Remember that what we do ourselves doesn’t matter in itself- it may be ruling, it may be teaching, it may be eating your dinner-it is all one as far as God is concerned. No occupation in itself is more noble than another in His sight. We are apt to distress ourselves because we are not given the work most suited to our gifts. But with God nothing is great, nothing little: “Thou art my God, because Thou hast no need of my goods.” Otherwise, He wouldn’t be God. Whether, humanly speaking, we are doing the work well or badly doesn’t matter at all; whether we succeed or fail doesn’t matter at all. God can do all the work, and very much better, without you. We say, perhaps: if only I had health and strength I could do much more for God. God doesn’t want it!

One thing matters: not what you do, not how you do it: one thing matters, why you do it. If it is to please God, it is everything. Our Lady sweeping the house pleased God more than if she had been a great preacher, gaining many souls. Even the highest of our actions comes under this law, e.g. Holy Communion. If God has laid you on a bed of sickness, He doesn’t want you at Holy Communion. God can give you Himself without it-can give you more grace than if you were always strong and well.

Here is a Talisman through life: just make sure of why you do things. Don’t worry if you are misunderstood-don’t worry if you are put in the wrong place-don’t worry if your whole life is a series of disappointments-all this doesn’t matter one brass farthing. If you are only able to answer:

“I am trying to please God”-this short formula will be your comfort, your peace of soul.

It is much easier to aim high than to aim low: do not think of how to become better, or of how to gain more merit: do not keep incessantly balancing in your mind which way you will gain most, e.g. by making an act of love, or by making an act of hope; do not think of how to gain Heaven; but simply, how to please God! By making elaborate plans for holiness we may be building barriers instead of getting close to God. God loves you: love Him back. And even if you are mistaken in what God wanted of you, if you wanted to please Him, He is pleased.

Of course obedience is always a sure guide. “If I had only known earlier,” we sometimes say; “but now, my whole life has been a failure.” It has been no failure if at the present moment you acknowledge your fault, and love God now. You take rank with God now according to your love now.

This is the Talisman to blow away cobwebs, to make life easier, to lighten the burden.

What God wants you to do is what you think He wants you to do. In all things carry out His Holy Will.

XII

CHARITY

“By this shall all men know if you are My disciples-if you have love one for another.”

A long experience makes me of opinion that the reason why so many souls fail to get really near to God is a want of fraternal charity. There is no point on which Our Blessed Lord was so particular or so tender. He was always telling His disciples that what we do to anyone else we do to Him. And it wasn’t a mere form of speech, we see it in His whole behaviour. It has been often a puzzle to me how souls I have known who had really great virtue, quite out of the common, failed, as time went on, to get as near to God as they should have done; and at last I came to the conclusion it was through some flaw in charity.

Real love is not necessarily emotional; it means simply readiness to do all we can for our neighbour and to abstain from what may harm him. Everyone isn’t equally lovable, and we may be put off by faults- want of tact, spirit of contradiction, always saying the wrong thing at the wrong times; people can be very “contrary,” but this is no impediment to love. We must love everybody though we needn’t like them. Who knows human nature better than He who made it? He knew that certain persons with their fads, etc., would try our patience. Yet He loves them and does not ask impossibilities of us. If you want to get very near to Our Lord you must get rid of any want of charity.

How does this show?

Why, without perhaps causing any scandal, you let a particular person know you dislike her. She has offended you, and “I can’t help feeling bitter,” you say. You can. Our Lord is most sensitive on this point, and so would you be if one you loved were being ill-treated; you would rather it were being done to yourself than to the person you loved. “I can’t love you,” Our Lord says to you, “if you don’t love My friend.” You must not be content with saying, as I have heard a Religious do: “I don’t do him any harm: I avoid him.” Is that your way of showing love to God? It is a serious matter; we can’t change Our Lord’s order, though we may say to Him sometimes: “So-and-so is one of your creatures I believe, but not one to be proud of; couldn’t you make her better?” Well, it comes in the life of a saint, that she, suffering from her Superior’s bad temper, asked Our Lord to give her a sweeter one. “No,” said Our Lord, “it is very good for you, as you get merit, by bearing it; and it is very good for her, as her deep humility after an outburst gains for her more than she loses by the fault.”

There is no one whom Our Lord would approve of your excluding, so the sooner you set about including them the better. Don’t make a resolution, but doit. “I can’t.” You can.”That person has behaved badly to me.” How have you behaved to Our Lord?

“Love me, love my dog,” is a saying in point. Now I would offer a suggestion: if there is anyone you don’t like, cultivate her.

Seek her company. Give her every opportunity of making fun of you, etc., and she will soon cease to do it when she sees you are not annoyed. Even humanly speaking this is sane advice. Do anything you can for her. The mere doing of a thing for a person makes you like her; in fact it may end in a particular attachment! Put the best construction on her actions, and you will not only get a great blessing from God, but win the person herself.

His command is simple to carry out. He Himself says: “If you love Me, keep My Commandments.” If you want to love your brethren, do what they want; do as you would be done by. Do away with every root of bitterness; cultivate gentleness and love; be patient and bear.

********

Man Says—If I Were God. . .

BY DANIEL A. LORD, S.J

INDEX

The letter lies before me, distinctly an amazing document.

You don’t have to be a crystal gazer to know that the writer doesn’t like God. In paragraph one he writes me: “Your god is made up of treachery, selfishness, and deceit. The only goodness he exhibited was when as Christ (whatever Christ may be) he fed the poor, raised one from the dead and prevented a single unfortunate girl from being stoned. But billions have suffered, including my mother and myself, and yet this god of yours sits indifferent to my suffering, doing nothing whatever for me.”

Then he throws the challenge in my face:

“Would you or I, just ordinary people, if we had your god’s claimed powers, allow the present conditions of the world to exist? Would you permit the horrible things that now clutch at human hearts and throats?”

“WHY CAN’T I BE GOD?”

To point with illustration, it seems to me, he strays slightly, from the subject of God. But evidently he doesn’t think that he does, for he writes:

“In one month, during which time I had my ankle broken twice, there were thirty-five instances in which your god could have helped me, and he didn’t. I had a bad, blundering nurse, who made things worse, and an indifferent doctor, who neglected me. I wasn’t fed sufficiently. Once in my inability to walk, I had to roll along the floor to get what I needed-or die. Yet your god refused to lift a finger for me.”

Then came the climax of the letter:

“I wish-oh, how I wish-I were God! What a vastly better job I”d do of things than He does!”

NOT TOO UNUSUAL

1 should have tossed the letter aside after my brief personal reply, except for the fact that it is an echo of cries I have heard too often in the language and literature of recent years. I find so many lifting their voices in criticism of God. They don’t like Him. They don’t like what He has accomplished in the universe. And they dump all the ills and evils of the universe on the steps of His throne.

Most of all they are brazen in their conviction that, given a chance, they could do a much better job of things than God has done. They would frankly like to take over God’s powers and opportunities.

Nothing else is written into history with bolder letters than the fact that men of all nations and ages have had a yen to play God, On many a sad occasion they put on what they thought were His robes and announced that they had taken over. Historians don’t much like what they accomplished, these kings and emperors and men of genius who masqueraded as God. But history never seems to teach us anything. And today more than ever before men look with contempt on God’s handling of His work and announce themselves as candidates to succeed Him.

“MAN IS GOD”

These days the attitude is perhaps part of the popular philosophy that man actu ally is God. “My god is humanity,” a doctor wrote to me, in another letter that I have often quoted. And what he wrote was a thin echo of a thousand who have written at greater length and more skilfully.

If man is god, the headlines in the paper before me (I write this in June of the year of disgrace 1940) point to him as a god apparently bent on suicide. Given a godlike independence and the powers of developed science, man seems hell-bent on wrecking this earth, over which he has been given a large jurisdiction. And even those who don’t pay much attention to God are forced to pay attention to the mess man is making of things for all of us.

Yet with all this human wreckage people like my correspondent keep looking disapprovingly beyond man toward God Himself and snarl out their criticism. With a blend of discontent and pride, of human self-confidence and divine resentment, they curl their lips and cry: “Why can’t I be God for just a few days? Believe me, I”d make this world a very different place from what God has made it!”

WHEN MAN PLAYED GOD

I”m not going to make even a short sortie into the history of man’s actual attempts to play God. These can be traced all the way back to the moment when a clever persuader convinced an up-to~that~moment~happy couple that it would be a glorious thing “to be as Gods.” Adam and Eve, in thought as in body the parents of our race, thought that would be an excellent idea; and, like the Pandora of mythology, they opened the box that had been sealed by divinity against the possible ruin of their children.

The men who would be God play a pretty smelly part in our record. They are the kings and Pharaohs and emperors who demanded that bulls be sacrificed and incense be burned and backs be curved to their synthetic divinity. They are the men of wealth, who found that money made them omnipotent and the masters of human lives and labours. They are the men of genius, who thought it godlike to play with truth and woo emotions to the service of nymphs and satyrs.

We don’t much like the men who have played God. In fact, if there is one incessant struggle that has marked the progress of mankind, it is our struggle to keep men from ever getting near-godlike powers. Sometimes we waged that struggle in a fight against tyrants. Sometimes we saw the people rising to fling aside an absolute monarch, who asserted the divine right of kings, and then to establish a democracy. We have watched the picket lines as the labourers united against the ruthless domination of men who thought their money made them absolute masters of the men who sweated for them.

The memory of capricious misrule by the deified monarchs of Egypt and Babylon is still red. With growing alarm we have seen the warship of Stalin and Hitler grow into a cult, seen these men join the powers and privileges of ancient absolute monarchs with rights over life and death that burgeoned in new idolatries. “Paris,” screamed the leaflets that were dropped overthat city by Nazi aviators, “will be spared for the glory of Adolph Hitler.” The phrase sounds as if it had been taken out of a religious ritual.

NOT TOO MUCH POWER

Indeed, if we have one conviction born of bitter trial and error, it is this: “You mustn’t entrust to any man too much power.” If you give a man political power, he tends to become a tyrant, a dictator, a capricious chess player with human destinies. If you give him financial power, he easily becomes the crushing exploiter of his fellows. Let a man grow too powerful, and he seems bent on establishing one of the thousand forms of human slavery, whether it be the slavery of the auction-block slave, the slavery of the anthill States, the slavery of women to the greedy lusts of the men upon whom they depend, the slavery of unorganised labour to uncontrolled capital. We know too well that excessive power makes possible vast cruelty, whimsical greed, and stupidity and lust, wars without reason and oppressions without end.

ONE MAN PLAYED GOD WELL

The only Man Who ever claimed the unrestricted powers of God and yet did not make life hell for those around Him was the very man that my correspondent singled out for grudging approval. Christ Jesus claimed to be God, and His life was a lovely scenario written on the theme of love and generosity and sacrifice and the ultimate climax of selfless death. I am glad that my correspondent, who seems to find the invisible God an ungracious character, finds the visible God quite charming. I cannot fail to notice that my correspondent sees Him feeding the hungry, raising the dead, healing diseases, and defending the girl whose bad luck threw her upon the mercy of men. Only my correspondent has vastly underestimated the number and extent of Christ’s kindnesses. A fuller reading of the Gospel record of the visible God will correct this very meagre estimate.

The rest of the men who have undertaken to play God have turned in pretty terrible performances. There was Nero a filthy, rotten sort of god; and Nabuchodonosor, of Babylon, who climaxed his godliness by crawling on all fours like an ox in pasture; and Frankenstein, who imparted life to a monster that could hardly stand comparison with the creatures of God’s authentic creation; and the ruthless capitalists, who have played with human lives through the magnified power of their money; and leaders of the people who have led them to ruin and to hell.

As I write these lines, I am wondering (and probably you are, too) what the two men who have been playing god for their nations and the nations around them mean to do further to add to the oppression and bloodshed and enslavement and starvation of their fellow-men.

WHAT DID GOD DO BADLY?

No; when man plays God, he gives at best a shabby and, at worst, a terrifying performance. Yet since there seems to be among men such widespread anxiety to assume the role of God, since so many men, like my correspondent, are persuaded that they could teach God how to handle His high office, since I have heard and read of so many who have wanted a “crack” at ruling the universe, it’s only fair to God to check over His labours, to see what could rightly be expected of anyone who took over His pretty large assignment.

The first and most obvious job that God handled and that man would have to assume if man pushed himself on to God’s throne is concerned with this rather elaborate and-even to the man who dislikes the Creator-pretty marvellous universe.

I wonder whether you and I could much improve on that job. What would you do, for instance, to better the stars and step up or correct their schedule through space. We haven’t done so well with our space transportation systems as yet. Within the last few months we’ve heard about some nasty railroad wrecks. A “plane or two has come tumbling earthward, a sickening skeleton of steel and flames.

Yet the stars, uncounted, incredible in majesty of form and intricacy of dance movement, go their serene and lovely way. No doubt about it, God has been a first-class star maker.

The mariner or the navigator of the clipper with absolute certainty charts his course by the stars that happen to mark the heavens above him. The watchmaker is proud if the combinations of tiny springs and wheels and balances even approaches in accuracy the matchless chronometers that are the swinging planets. The pull of gravity, just enough to keep the stars in place, not enough to send them into a confused celestial traffic jam, holds the stars together with chains far stronger than those of man’s devising, chains less visible than the sigh of a baby.

The astronomer, who spends his life trying to analyse the composition of a single star; the mathematician, who covers pages with elaborate calculations that analyse the course of a lesser planet; the poet, who looks at the Milky Way or the glowing evening star and knows there are no words to contain them; the mystic, who peoples these faraway worlds with fairy people of his own imagining; the traffic manager, who wishes he could control a dozen trucks as unfalteringly as the million solar systems are managed-all these would confess that the man who took over the task of handling the universe (much less creating it) would have high precedent to follow and splendid executive ability to imitate.

TAKE THE SUN. . .

Let’s single out the sun, for instance. Just close enough to the earth to pull from the black soil the million life forms; just far enough away to give earth the delightful variety that runs from white satin poles to the lush richness of tropical jungles; near enough to keep men warm, far enough away to keep them from growing dull and languid; its rays penetrating enough for the growth of an orange, the bleaching of linen, or the acquiring of a suntan; not hot enough to reduce us to a sliver of crisp bacon.

It’s not hard to understand why pagans have gone down on their knees to adore the life-giving sun or lifted white arms to the loveliness of the moon and flattered the multi-coloured stars with the names of their deities. The divine choreographer, who designed the dance of the timeless stars, was a master of pageantry. The divine mathematician, who plotted the schedules of the stars, is still the greatest mind, before whose manifestations we stand awe-struck.

If I had a chance to be God, I doubt very much that I could improve on any of this. Yet after all that is a pretty fair chunk, of achievement, a pretty large sector of the Creator’s accomplishments. If you, however, are still convinced that as God you could improve on sun, moon, and stars, maybe you’d tell me how. I”d like to know-and so would the poets and scientists of all the ages.

DEAR, BOUNTIFUL EARTH

But why stop with the achievement which is the firmament? After all, we know the earth better as a dear, familiar mother, or, as Chesterton preferred to express it, as a charming and gracious sister. So, before we start criticising God too severely, let’s remember that He turned out a first-rate job when He made the earth. The greatest of landscape painters does scarcely more than imprison in a square of canvas a small section of God’s hills and forests and ever-changing oceans.

As I write these lines, the Pennsylvania train is carrying me through the splendid valleys that lie between Pittsburgh and Harrisburg. They are so glorious I find it hard to keep my mind on the work in the typewriter before me. A variegated flow of glorious countryside rushes by my carriage window: green, warmly clear, friendly hills that rise above foamy streams; farms that alternate ploughed fields with vineyards and the bright beauty of springtime orchards; mountains so rich in minerals that men are endlessly digging up the coal and steel ore that make possible the train I ride; clay pits from which are fashioned bricks and china for the bride’s wedding table; man-made canyons rendering unlimited supplies of building material; little green and blue lakes that furnish prosperous cities with cool, clear, refreshing water.

Just a moment ago we swung around the famous Horseshoe Curve outside Altoona; and, though I have seen it a score of times, I had to stop typing long enough to drink in the beauties that the gracious Creator has laid as surface drape over the rich resources stored away in the earth for the needs and luxuries of His children.

MAN MAKES SCARS

Now, if I wanted to grow ironic, I could continue thus: What God made in these lovely valleys is incredibly beautiful; what man has done to them-well, that is often hideous beyond words. Let’s forget for a moment the charming farmhouses and city parks, the luxurious comfort of my train and the speed of the autos whirling along the road and concentrate (as the enemies of God always do) merely on the things that seem to repel. I have seen, as I rode along, green luxuriant hills serving as background for the choking, sulphurous smile of smoke-black mills; I have seen the rivers turn a poisonous yellow from the dumpings of factories; I have noticed where the earth was gashed in great jagged wounds, and under the shadow of once beautiful shade trees I have observed rows of crazy, unpainted hovels, at the shabby doors of which sat listless children and men black with unprofitable labour.

Down that exquisite hillside careless human beings have poured a cataract of tin cans and the skeletons of exhausted motor-cars. My swift-moving train carries me sick at heart past monuments built to oppressive, soul-grinding toil, squalor holding poverty to its heart, wasted beauty destroyed by swift human greed. The background of glorious mountains broods sadly over cabins of inhuman, debasing want.

What conclusion could I draw except this? God has done a glorious job in the beauty of scenery, the richness of soil, the exhaustless buried treasures of earth; man has taken all this and made it terrifyingly ugly, torn it with greedy claws, poisoned the waters with filth, and used the very richness of the land and the hills to make his fellow men poor and miserable.

I had the sharp feeling that God could look upon His work and find it good. I was not so sure that man’s survey of his work had any right to wake an echo of God’s feelings.

THIS BEAUTY THAT IS EARTH

This valley through which I ride is only a small sector of God’s munificent earth. Beauty? What is the greatest artist anyhow except a man struggling to reproduce a fragment of the beauty that God flung out in the essence of the universe? The artist paints a portrait, and his lines do no more than follow the beautiful pattern which guided God when He made the first human countenance. He paints a landscape, and the frame is hardly more than a window through which we look rememberingly upon a portion of the earth that the painter found arrestingly charming.

That sculptor struggled to catch a little of the grace that actuates the limbs of the antelope, a hint of the power that ripples under the mane of a lion. The still-life painter suddenly realises that there is beauty in everything-in the rose obviously, but just as truly in the texture of the peach, the sheen of a cluster of grapes, the pattern of a cabbage, the inner surface of a clam-shell. The lacemaker turns to the snow crystal on the window to design lace fit for a bridal veil. The worker in mosaic endlessly repeats the casual design blueprinted by the Creator for the honeycomb.

GOD’S MUNIFICENT STOREHOUSE

As for the way in which God has stocked this world, not Admiral Byrd bound for the Antarctic, nor the stewards of a ship bound round the world, nor the quartermaster of a great army moving out to a stalemate war-not any of these ever did more than use a portion, of the exhaustless provisions which God has laid away for the needs of His children. As a provider, God needs no apologies.

Just think for a second of the endless varieties of food: food for the strong, for the invalid; foods meant to satiate the appetite of a man coming sweaty from the field; foods delicate enough for an infant. Think of the black loam repeating season after season the miracle of crops and harvests and fruit-laden trees and vines. Upon the plains wander the inexhaustible flocks and herds. The wild birds of the air yield eventually to the contented domesticity of the barnyard.

All the ingenuity of all the chefs of culinary history has not begun to exhaust the possibilities of God’s larder. And once more we say in inevitable conclusion: “Even if I were God, I should find it hard to improve on all that.”

THE WONDER OF CLOTHING

God’s care for our proper clothing is another miracle of foresight-clothing ranging all the way from the shining thread of the silkworm to the great pelt of the leopard or the bear. Fluffy cotton bolls are glorified into the debutante’s sport dress. The skin of the lowly mink wraps warm the queen. The hide of the cow protects the feet of marching men against the rocks. The skin of the chamois keeps warm milady’s hands. Hidden away in temporary darkness are glittering objects waiting to adorn the hands and ears and throats of God’s daughters.

No indulgent father taking his son to London and his daughter to Paris for their proper outfitting does other than give a faint and third-rate imitation of the way God has planned for the bright and warm and insulating clothing of His children.

MATERIALS FOR MAN’S LABORATORY

Even when we are most entranced by the wonders of modern chemistry, we have to admit that the chemist takes his materials right off the shelves of God’s chemical laboratories. Modern genius creates none of the things it uses. In order to get its elements,it merely goes to the endless storehouse of God’s mountains and air and deep pockets in the earth.

When from a combination of God’s metals and chemicals man had finally hammered out light steel, he dropped wells into the earth and piped out the thick, smelly lakes hidden there, took out of the air a spark of God’s lightning, and created modern speedy transportation. You can’t fool even a love-blind girl by trying to pass off an artificial diamond for one dug from God’s mines. The synthetic pearl is ashamed to appear beside the one taken out of the oyster.

Yet, as if to show us a challenging way, God took the elements of a diamond and in black, unpolished form prepared it to warm our bedrooms and help pull the fast train. Then at the end of the precision tool that same diamond makes possible the exactitude of modern scientific industry.

A VERY WISE FATHER

TO anyone who gives the matter thought, God seems like a wise father who not only lavishly provides for the needs of

His children -and for their luxuries, too-but, not wishing to spoil them by too easy a mode of life, puts before them a challenge to their ingenuity and a premium for their labours and resourcefulness.

In and on this earth there is more than enough for all our needs and comforts.

The orchards bear more fruit than we can consume. Wheat waits in elevators for bakers who can’t find pans enough to bake all the bread that could be made. We have not, as yet, skimmed the surfaces of our oil fields, or tapped our mountains for all the ore, or used completely the elements that drift through the air and lie dissolved in the sea. God is a lavish provider.

Yet for all these things God demands an expenditure of saving labour. The orchard must be pruned and tended; the wheat must be sown and harvested; the oil must be piped; the mines must be dug. But the labour hasn’t been back- breaking. Water flows everywhere in abundance. Wheat for a regiment can be raised by a single man. Fruits grow wild, and berries drop from bushes so thick that they become positive nuisances. Cotton springs luxuriously, and once even tobacco grew wild.

EASY AND HARD

But other things have been placed as a challenge to man’s daring and ingenuity. For steel and aluminium and gold, for diamond and ruby and pearl, for the making of a streamliner or a printed page or an electric plant or a city’s waterworks, man must dig and explore, call out his cleverness and powers of discovery and invention, exercise his high creative gift. In nature are all the materials needed for the making of a bottle of ink or a city of mills, a baby carriage or an automobile, a pair of synthetic stockings or an electric light. But, while it is easy to hollow out a cliff to make a cave-home, or strip a bear of his pelt to make a cape, God sees to it that the making of a printing press or the weaving of broad-cloth or the fashioning of a crown for king or molar demands the exercise of the brilliant powers God has implanted in His sons and daughters.

A tramp, a beachcomber, or a pioneer in some fertile frontier-land may live almost without effort. Yet the genius of the great chemist and the superlative organiser is taxed to its limit once they start to experiment with all the possibilities.

The earth is filled with so many resources that labour need never be back-breaking or soul-destroying. Fortunately the earth is not so lavish with its gifts or its yielding materials that we need grow lazy, sluggish, unimaginative, dull. The primitive man can find his food, house, and clothing within easy reach of a baited line, a club, a cave, a nearby forest. More complicated and cultured men can make their world as elaborate as they wish. Here again God has given man the necessary genius as well as the materials with which to work. So, while the early settler used the winding rivers as highways for his scooped-out-log canoe, his grandsons harness the river’s swift fall to light a hospital, to give power to an electric razor, to run the wheels of industry, to project Mickey Mouse on a synthetic screen.

MORE THAN ADEQUATE

Once more I suggest that God’s achievement of the earth has been very adequate. If I were suddenly given the power and permission to remake the earth, I”d think twice before I started. For I know that if things are made too easy for mankind men and women become selfish, inert, stupid. And I should hate to trade the beauty and grandeur of the hills for the ugliness of a heap of pig iron, however efficient. Those hills are wonderful, clad with the green trees we use for every purpose-from Christmas gaiety to the making of paper- made up of materials from which we build our highways and form our concrete, shaped in that line of perfect beauty which is the undulating curve, containing rich ores and perhaps untapped lakes of oil and water, and rimmed by the green and blue river that delights the poet, makes glad the small boy splashing in the cool shade, and turns the turbines in the city’s power plant.

“GOD’S GREAT FAILURE”

Let’s give God credit for an excellent piece of work. I know I couldn’t have done better. Can you honestly say you could?

I”m afraid my correspondent would brush all this aside. If he considers the wonder of the stars or life in an anthill, or in contemplation passes from the heart of a rose to the hot inferno of the sun, he must grant some measure of excellence to God’s work. God’s failure, he would contend, is man. I should guess that my correspondent believes he, given the chance, could produce a better creature than man. For man is the mystery. Man is the one really disordered thing in the magnificent universe.

All other creatures? Well, the cow is a pretty reliable animal; it takes care of its important assignments with success and contentment. The dog is a highly trustworthy companion and guardian. Even the lion loose in his native jungle and undisturbed by marauding man has his good points. The bee is a model to be held up to the child in second grade. The beaver is a busy little body all ready to be set into a proverb.

But man? Oh, what a mess is man!

Thus speaketh that critic of God who suddenly turns out to be a critic of God only by indirection. The being who should be criticised is obviously man himself. Except, as my correspondent will hasten to remind me, that God made man and hence is responsible for his doings and misdoings.

MAN’S NOT SO BAD

Before we go too far into that, we might give God credit for those things which He clearly gave man. Whatever man later does with them, God confers on him a body, a soul, instincts, powers, possibilities. And unless you are a confirmed pessimist, a Martin Luther finding in man only a hopelessly corrupt nature, or a pagan scientist seeing man merely as one of nature’s tentative experiments probably ready to be chucked into the biological scrap heap, you will have to admit that basically man isn’t a bad piece of construction.

I have no intention of putting the anatomist or physiologist out of a job by attempting to dissect the body of a man. I merely note that his eye still sets the standard for the lenses of the world and makes the most marvellous camera seem pretty inadequate. Long before the gyroscope was invented, man carried in his inner ear a gyroscope simple and compact and endowed with a marvellous power of balancing.

The pumping stations can still learn a lot from the action of man’s heart. No means of locomotion thus far invented has the grace and charm of human legs; for we have yet to see a streamline train or automobile competing with Nijinski, Fred Astaire, Bill Robinson, or the members of the Ballet Russe. Hands may not be so strong as an electric magnet or a scoop shovel, but show me the magnet or the shovel that can play the piano, perform a major operation, or paint a portrait.

Taking it by and large, any sculptor or puppeteer or anatomist or biologist searching for the origins of human life has to admit that the body of man is wonderful and intricate and elaborate and amazing. If we human beings ever reach the point where, with the proper materials, we can make even a human toenail, we will have started a remote approach to patronising God, the artist-creator of human life.

THAT MARVELLOUS SOUL

I imagine that my good correspondent, who dislikes God, has brushed aside the human soul. But even he must admit that the thinking processes of the human animal are rather astounding. It takes quite a piece of human machinery (whatever you want to call the human being) to work out problems in higher mathematics, designthe New York World’s Fair, write “Abe Lincoln in Illinois,” co-ordinate the varied sounds that make up a great symphony, formulate the Constitution of the United States, play expert contract bridge, direct a defending army, supervise a radio broadcast, make a charming proposal of marriage, discover a substitute for silk, train a racehorse to break track records, give one’s life for one’s country, discover the mechanics of the atom, love the infinite God.

If, in addition to all this, the soul really has the godlike powers that Christ and St. Paul declared it to have, man is a very startling creature. For if God really did give man immortality, if he has the capacity some day to know infinite truth and possess infinite beauty, if he is the son (and she the daughter) of the Infinite God, then startling is really a weak word to describe man.

AMAZING MAN

Yet precisely these powers does God claim to have given man, and millions of men are sure that He did. So, even in the case of man God hasn’t done too bad a job.

Truth compels me to confess that I find man, as he comes from the hands of God, a great achievement. I marvel at the chemical laboratory that is his stomach. His amazing power of bringing other human beings into existence startles me. I delight in the restlessness that makes man an explorer, a scientist, a reformer, an artist, a dramatist, a mathematician, an organiser, a priest. I approve of a great many things he has done with the materials his Father gave him-built homes, painted great paintings, made a box of chocolates for a youngster, written a splendid book. Man has brought locomotion far from the first turning of a wheel to the development of this train on which I ride.

When one hundred men playing under the baton of a famous conductor pull heavenly sounds out of catgut and wood and brass and pipes that look like freshly-cut river reeds, I am proud of my fellows. I like to walk through a library and know that every book on the shelves is the preserved fruit of a human mind.

I am proud of these fellow human beings when the “plane outstrips the swallow’s flight or the racing car makes the hare stand still. The corridors of a great university seem sacred places, hallowed with genius, rich in lofty thinking. I stroke the bright sides of a telescope or stand reverently before a painting, enter quietly a laboratory or a theatre, read the Declaration of Independence, the Bill of Rights, “Hamlet,” and “The Hound of Heaven,” and I am glad that I am a man and not an angel.

OF COURSE WE’VE CRIMINALS

I could, I suppose, very easily spend my entire time looking at the criminals among us, whether the gangsters of the back streets or the gangsters who dominate international affairs. If I did that, my stomach would probably revolt against my species. So for the moment I shan’t do that.

I”d rather remember and have you remember the many times when man is glorious and woman is lovely. Let’s take him when he loves and is good to his parents, when she loves and leans above her first-born. We might stand by reverently and admire the beautiful love that inspires men to high poetry and lofty achievement. There’s a man going out to die for a friend; there’s another sharing his last dollar.

Often I find men brave. They attempt the impossible and make it come true. They carry through enterprises that demand self-denial and contempt for personal gain. They are often wonderfully generous with their songs, their purses, their lives.

They write beautiful books and build hospitable buildings; they brood over peace treaties and sing serenades under balconies; they join hands in friendship and brave pioneering and throw their bodies between their loved ones and danger. They have faith that moves mountains and hopes that no tidal wave of discouragement can quench. Their loves build nurseries and carve statues and give the lie to weariness and weakness.

UP TO THIS

Yes; it is easy to like men and women if we concentrate on their undoubted virtues and for a moment blink at their sad stupidities and crimes. They are often, thanks be, the splendid sons and daughters of the God Who made and loves them.

Thus far, even when we consider man, we find that God has not done too badly. Up to this point I doubt that my correspondent could-and I am sure that I myself could not-hardly do a more adequate job. The story synopsised could run thus:

Into the glorious marvel that is the universe. . . .

The Creator sent the rich and beautiful earth . . .

And in that stage-setting, that richly-stockedstorehouse, that constantly reborn centre of life. . . . .

He placed man, elaborate in endowment, complete in essential equipment, often splendid and noble and gentle and dear.

Even the criminal whose finger twitches upon a trigger is probably often gentle andkind. The sad and terrible “Dutch” Schultz died sobbing for his mother, manifesting a primitive love of which none of his racketeer associates thought him capable. Ruthless exploiters of human labour in the end grow mellow (or remorseful) and throw all their fortunes into great hospitals in the hope of correcting the diseases their own greed helped create.

If the time clock of a man’s life were to register his hours of crime and sin as against his hours of normal living and human virtue, might not theworst man’s record show to his credit a balance in actual time and deeds?

HOW WOULD YOU HANDLE MAN?

But let’s take man, as my correspondent evidently wishes him to be taken, at his worst. How far can we blame God for the sins and cruelties, the savage, predatory lusts and relentless greeds that certainly seem common enough in the history of nations and the life story of man?

Or let us suppose once more that I am God. How would I handle man? Where would I as creator change the divine plan?

If I were or had been at the beginning God, I could, of course, have created men without the power or possibility of evil. I could at the dawn of life simply have stripped him of all liberty.

NOT FREE

The stars cannot sin. The great planet Saturn cannot of a sudden decide to make war on his satellites and force them to pay tribute to his racket. Mars cannot seduce Venus, nor can the moon suddenly go crashing off to blast the surfaces of the earth. The stars simply are not free.

Flowers are not free either, nor are the grains. Wheat cannot in angry resentment at the farmer determine to develop in its kernels a subtle poison that will slowly kill the family yet leave no trace for the district attorney to use as evidence. The oak tree cannot lie in wait for the forester and at the exactly correct minute crush him with its powerful limbs. The rosebush has no freedom to plot the extermination of the family that for generations has been cutting its roses with cruel scissors; It cannot obtain opium from the poppy, distill it into a deadly drug, and hold it within its leaves in expectation of the moment when the debutante daughter will sniff the buds and die in agony.

No. Some plants are poisonous; some plants are health-giving; some plants are quite neutral. But no plants are free to determine which they shall be, what they shall do. God and nature determine that for them. They have no choice of virtue or vice.

In the same safe way God gave no freedom to the animals. They are the slaves of their instincts. In moments of anthropomorphic sentimentalism (that is the equivalent of the phrase, “at those times when we treat animals as does Walt Disney in his cartoons”), we pin medals on dogs or blue ribbons on cows. But in our hearts we know that neither the dog nor the cow is free. More probably some man has used his own freedom to develop the dog’s courageous instincts or to improve the cow’s yield of butterfat.

The elephant doesn’t clip coupons for correspondence courses in how to develop its muscles. If the lion is brave, we know he did not first go through a psychological agony of crushing down his fears. The fox may be so tricky and treacherous that we kill him off in defence of our barnyard, but we lay no blame upon him for the instinct that makes him a thief.

SHALL GOD MAKE US SLAVES?

Continuing the lead of the stars, the grains, and the animals, God could have made His human sons and daughters slaves. He could have created them with no power to be bad, and hence with no real power to be good. For, in order to be meritoriously good, one has to have power of choice. One must see clearly good and evil and choose the thing that is good. One must see the possibilities entailed in the sinful course and then must deliberately, like Christ in His great triple temptation, push away from it.

God did not want a race of slaves. To Him it would have seemed sharp indignity for His sons and daughters to be good as the ant is good because they could not help themselves, or docile as the lamb is docile, or obedient as the horse or the dog is obedient. His universe was already filled with the magnificent slave service of chemistry and physics. The seasons did their work for the earth under the wheel of monotonous necessity. In the seed of an apple or the grain of wheat was a force that compelled each of these to germinate and bloom. The planets swung in their courses on the guide-chains of unbreakable law.

It may be that God was tired of slave service. Certainly He made His angels and His human children free.

WOULD I CHANGE THIS?

If I had been God, would I have made man differently, withheld freedom from him? Would I have preferred a human race of robots driven by Impulses and instincts to their labours and their loves? No doubt about it, had I preferred that, I should then have had a wonderfully orderly universe. Men would have moved with the charm and predictable regularity of the stars. They would have been as guiltless as the springtime, as laborious as bees around a queen bee, as fruitful of good as an orchard, as loyal as a setter. But they would have been slaves.

I doubt whether I should have wanted that had I been God. And I doubt whether my correspondent would find enjoyment in the thought of a world of puppets, of marionettes moving to the pull of invisible strings.

So, had I been God, I should probably have done as God did; I should have created my sons and daughters free. I should have given them adequate personal equipment, as God did; a plentiful, really lavish earth, as God did; the example of an. ordered universe moving in peace and calm beauty, as God did.

I’D WANT THEM FREE

But no more than God desired it should I have wanted to be served by a race of human slaves, who would have loved me because they had no alternative, served me because I forced their service, made their brothers and sisters happy because there was no way by which they could do otherwise, and cared for the earth under the compulsion of iron chains that bound them to the wheel.

I think I should have preferred to implant in their nature a clear law telling them what was right and what was wrong, pointing out the things that would make them permanently happy, and the other things that, though immediately delightful, would make them ultimately wretched.

If I had seen that they found the law in their hearts hard to read, I should probably have written that law more clearly for them-engraved it, for instance, on tables of stone. Then I should have sent them wise, experienced teachers to make things even more clear. If I had had a brilliant and attractive eldest Son, I should probably have, asked Him to go among them, show them in the charm of His own life how constructive and strong and beautiful a thing is goodness and warn them against the stupidity and horror of evil.

THE RISK

But in making them free, I should have known I was taking a risk. For when you let a man choose between good and evil, you must realise that he is likely to pick evil. When you give men one road map to heaven and another to hell, you must foresee that some of the travellers will, incredibly and stupidly enough, set their feet or turn their steering wheel down the incline toward eternal ruin. It was the risk that God took. But if I had been in His place, what else could I have done?

For I would have wanted my children free, to choose the glorious reward of heaven. Stars and flowers and animals have no chance at that reward. That reward can be won only by the free sons and daughters of God. You cannot force a man to accept a salary; he can be a tramp if he wishes. You cannot oblige a woman to live in a mansion if she prefers to spend her days in a hovel in the slums. So God freely offers man the glorious reward of eternal life; but if, having made it, He leaves man free to accept or reject the offer, He runs the risk of man’s refusal.

ABNORMALS

I”m not here going to go into a discussion of man’s freedom. There are too many arguments to prove that he is free, and all the disgraceful attempts to strip man of his liberty have left those arguments untouched. Of course, there are abnormals among us, more often than not the sad fruits of human sinning. The fact that we call them abnormals indicates that we regard them as set aside from the sons and daughters whom God planned and originally created. These abnormals may not be free, or they may be only partly free. It is the lack or limitation of freedom in them that makes them inhuman, less than complete men and women.

The tragedy of humanity is not, however, in its defectives, sad as they seem to us. The tragedy is in the lives of normal men and women, who take the liberty God has given them and use it deliberately to thwart God’s plans for a happy earth.

MYSTERIOUS MAN

God made enough and more than enough for all. But this strong scoundrel decides to pile up more money than he can possibly use, so he corners necessities and crushes gold out of the broken bodies of his victims.

God made her heart for love, the dear, familiar love of a daughter for her parents, the strong, passionate love of a wife for her husband, the sublimely unselfish love of a mother for her children. But she determines to pervert that love, to lust, even if it means the rotting of bodies and the blind eyes of little babies.

God asked these two men to help Him make the world happy, lovelier still. But they filled the world with war, crushed in slavery the free sons and daughters of God, and made life hideous for all those whom they could bend to their own aggrandisement.

God gave him a brilliant mind and a skilful tongue, a pen that could picture noble emotions and inspire to high courage. But he used his brilliant mind to create smut, let treason to God and inducement to temptation drip from his tongue; and with his pen he tore at love, marriage, unselfishness, human dignity.

She had a silver voice that might have sung lullabies or wakened pure love in those who would reverently have listened. Instead she used her voice for songs that reeked of filth and sent men away from her with cut and seared souls.

Tragedies, all of them; but how can they conceivably be called tragedies of Gods making? They are simple, openeyed betrayals of the Father’s trust. They are the horrible treason to One Who has loved His children as only God can love men. They are in case after case man’s cold-blooded rejection of any part in making God’s world happy. They are flat, brutal refusals to help God make this earth a lovely place in which to live.

TOO FAR?

Can it be that God persists in trusting His sons and daughters too far? Does He have too high a confidence in their essential goodness, their appreciation of right and wrong, their desire for human happiness?

The Communist thinks this is the case. Where God turned over to His children the world with all its richness, the Communist leaders, playing God, think a man unfit to own a small farm, untrustworthy to the point where he can’t be allowed to call a little store his own.

The Nazi, too, thinks this is the mistake God made. God places, so Catholic philosophers maintain, all political power in the hands of the people, who may dispose of it in any orderly, just government they choose. The Nazi finds men so unworthy that he beats them into nuts and bolts to hold together a militaristic State. He refuses them all right of judgment, except a nod when the leader speaks. He reduces the citizens to the status of ants in their hill, beavers in their dams, eggs in their crates.

I PREFER GOD’S WAY

Perhaps my correspondent thinks the Communist and Nazi wise and right. I prefer God’s way. I am glad that He endowed me with freedom, dangerous though that freedom is. Perhaps no gift could be more delicate to handle than is the highly-explosive freedom. Yet without that I am a dog kicked about by instincts, a slave shackled to a workbench. And I like to be the free man God made me.

So, if I were God, I”m afraid I should endow men with freedom, even if that made them free to upset my plans. Like God, I should give men a clear law in their hearts and a still clearer law that would come from me through teachers I would send them and through Christ, God’s Son. I should expect them to use the eyes I gave them to read history’s sad record of the effect of man’s sinning and to shape their lives on the basis of that expensively purchased knowledge. I should ask them to see how happy the world becomes when the heroes and saints struggle with vision and courage for the triumph of Christ’s beautiful plans.

And I am afraid that I should be startled and chagrined if, after all this, they used the equipment I gave them and the richness with which I filled the world to make themselves miserable and drag down their fellow men. And I should be utterly perplexed if they blamed their folly and madness and deliberate blindness on me.

THEY DO JUST THIS

Yet this is precisely what men do. God does a magnificent job, and then His sons and daughters shake their fists in His face, use the freedom He gave them to crack up His plans for human happiness, and then, when they find themselves utterly wretched, yell that it’s all His fault. They act like beasts and then whine at God, “Why didn’t You force me to be- have myself?” They kick Christianity- its insistence on brotherly love and universal brotherhood out of their senates and schools and factories and armies and public life, and then they taunt Christianity with not having saved them from their own rapacious, thunderingly stupid greed and love of war. They order Christ out of their lives; and then, when their lives crumble around them, they demand to know why He didn’t save them in spite of themselves.

God tells us clearly that happiness lies in love and generous service, so the killer deliberately lays the knife at his enemy’s throat, and the armies of the world start marching. God and history show us that only in pure love is happiness to be found; whereupon men and women grab the excitement of illicit passion, gripping their lusts and all the sickening consequences that they know must follow. Any child can tell you that only a generous human being is happy; so men turn misers and exploiters and thieves and sick-eyed criminals.

And after all that they turn to God, as does my correspondent, and blaze away at Him.

Yet if my correspondent were God, or if I were God, would he or I have done all this differently?

SO MUCH MORE

Perhaps, had I been God, I should never have gone to the extremes to which God actually went. Would I have dreamed “f sharing my own life with my children and giving them a right to possess a happiness like my own for all eternity? Would I have risen to the sublime sacrifice of Calvary and the glorious imprisonment of my Son in the Eucharist and in the hearts of men? Would I have sent to them the Holy Ghost, the spirit of light, truth, and love-even if they had been willing to receive Him?

Or, knowing that the vast majority of the human race would, like my correspondent, flatly refuse my helps and benefits, would I have said, “Oh, what’s the use!” and let them go their own pigheaded way? For, sadly enough, my correspondent is precisely the kind of person who refuses God’s benefits andthen, like a pampered child, whines, “Why don’t you do something for me?” I wonder how long it is since he threw divine life, sanctifying grace, out of his soul. It would be interesting to know when last he felt the strength and divine vigour of Holy Communion, or when he called upon God in infallible prayer. I wonder, too, whether he ever received the Holy Spirit into his heart in Confirmation, and, if he did receive Him, how soon he drove the God of comfort out in angry distaste.

A father can hardly be blamed if his son starves himself in the midst of the comforts provided him, or if he uses his education to become a high-powered gangster. And I grow more and more puzzled when I see men flatly refusing to accept God’s truth and God’s proffered help and God’s tremendous blessings, and then snap and bark and scream in anger because of what they will not let Him do for them.

If, after all of God’s efforts, men still go on making other men unhappy by seeking revenge or lust or more wealth than they can conceivably use, I”m afraid that, were I in God’s place, I should wash my hands of them and let them go their wilfully stupid, deliberately blind ways.

My correspondent can be very grateful to God that He did not let me take His place. And, after reading my correspondent’s letter, I can breathe a sigh of relief that he is still a mere man.

LET’S PLACE THE BLAME

At any rate, the fault seems to lie, not with God at all, but with the free sons and daughters of God. We might, for example, take precisely the situation to which my correspondent refers as “the present condition of the world.” Russia, with more land than she can possibly develop, readies out and tears off a chunk of Finland. Why? God has certainly forbidden theft and murder. History tells the terrible consequences of these crimes. But the Russian rulers not only decided that God was wrong but took the stand that He didn’t even exist. Why blame God when the men who raped Finland were precisely the men who were defying God and making war on Him?

The nations of Europe are engaged in a gigantic game of murder and suicide. Hitler and his coterie have long ago shoved God out of the life of the Nazi Party and cordially reinstated Valhalla and the criminals who, in ancient Teutonic times, masqueraded as gods. The rulers of France granted God and His law no place in the public life of the land, banned Him from French schools, and took down the crucifix from the walls of French law courts. The memory of many an Irishman goes back not too many years to a time when the English were killing his forefathers for the crime of bringing Christ down into Ireland through the Mass, and crouching behind the hedgerows to teach the name of Jesus to little children.

WHAT COURSE TO TAKE

So I”m sure that God doesn’t like the “present condition” of the world any better then does my correspondent or myself. He could adopt one of three plans to handle the situation:

First: He could destroy men’s freedom of will, bring all people back to their senses, and force them with bent necks and shackled souls to do His will whether or not they want to do it. The nations, like the stars and the animals, would then serve God blindly and slavishly.

Second: He could leave men their liberty but wipe out of the various nations those who are causing the trouble. I rather imagine that my correspondent would follow this course. The names of those who have denied God’s existence, who have made vicious war on His Church, who have taught their nations a new immorality that is really as old as paganism itself, and who have led the age into the hideous hell of mechanised war-these God would place on a list of the proscribed. And His wrathful but just hand would erase them before their crimes had time to develop.

GOD’S CHOICE

Third: He could, still leaving men their liberty, take fatherly care of all those who, despite the persuasive folly or ruthless impulsion of the leaders, continue to love Him and follow His law. He could bring these safe even through the collapse of the world and the crumbling of civilisation, until they reached the glory and happiness of their eternal destiny. Those who have lived as His devoted sons and daughters will reap the happy consequences of their deliberate loyalty. The rest . . . well, for them there is always repentance, no matter how deep their crime.

Neither God nor my correspondent nor I would destroy men’s freedom. As we watch the papers, we cannot but think that perhaps God is allowing men to wipe themselves from the earth. Perhaps He permits this horrible war simply because they insisted they wanted it and He foresees the obliteration of the men who hate Him and who make war on the happiness of their fellows.

But I believe that His course is -and I feel sure my course would be if I were God-the third. I believe God is letting men use their liberty even though it means self-destruction. I believe He continues to warn them in their secret consciences, in the clear lessons of history, in the laws which they cannot possibly escape; and through those warnings they foresee the ultimate consequences of their crimes.

But I know that, all the while, He is protecting the souls of those who serve Him and love their fellow men; and even though their immediate ways through life are made painfully torturous by the greed and cruelty of the God-haters, they still find God all around them-on the altars of bomb-wrecked churches, in the constantly reborn face of nature, in the life that, uninterrupted by any exploding shell, flows in their deepest souls-and, waiting for them, holding out perfect happiness as their reward at the end of life’s road.

God continues to do His part; let men be the fools and criminals they will. And if I were God, I should find it difficult to improve on His chosen course.

BLAME MEN, NOT GOD

As for the adventures of my correspondent in the hospital, this seems to me clearest possible proof that it is man, not God, who causes the world’s real unhappiness.

The broken ankle comes in the class of human sicknesses. Again we are faced with a wide subject, which has been adequately handled elsewhere, the problem of physical pain in the world. We haven’t the space to do more than refer to it here. I discussed this question at length in “When Sorrow Comes.” Father Owen Francis Dudley wrote magnificently on it in “Shadow on the Earth.” Either of these I suggest to my correspondent if he cares to read a reasonable explanation of sickness and pain.

These obvious things, however, we can note in passing: Sickness unto death is merely the period of transition from life to life. In the experience of all of us sickness has frequently proved a strangely beautiful blessing. I know from my own experience that two illnesses proved the two greatest natural gifts that could be sent me by a wise Father, gifts that reshaped for good the whole course of my life.

HIGH PURPOSES

Sickness and pain are merely the obverse of health and joy. I, a human being, know that I would be incapable of intense pleasure if I were not capable of feeling pain. The same nerves that react to joy react to suffering. The piano tuned to give forth great harmonies is incidentally capable of hideous discords. The very delicacy of my organism, its capacity for precise operation, make it, like an extraordinarily fine watch, likely to know breakdowns and defects.

Because of the existence of sickness, mothers grow more tender toward their children and thereby toward all the children of men. In moments of worry husbands find new love for their wives. Human sickness makes strong hands grow gentle, trains nurses and doctors to patient care where they might otherwise have been proud and cruel. Sickness is the immediate provocation of that charity that rises in the concrete manifestation of a hospital; the nursing sister, the Red Cross nurse, become lovely symbols of devotion to humanity. Sickness has a way of bringing proud human beings back from greed and vice to virtue and gentleness and God.

I realise this is all sketchy, but it is not precisely the point involved here. The point: is my correspondent right in berating God for what happened in the hospital?

WHOSE FAULT?

“There were,” he writes, “thirty-five instances in which your God could have helped me,and he didn’t.” Yes; and there were a million instances in which He did-in the food He created, the mattress whose materials He made soft, the impulse He gave to men to build a hospital, the power of healing that He placed in medicine and in the broken bones themselves, the sweet anodyne of sleep, the beauty of flowers in a sick man’s room, the healing operations of nature.

“I had a bad, blundering nurse, who made things worse, and an indifferent doctor, who neglected me. I wasn’t fed suf- ficiently. Once,in my inability to walk, I had to roll along the floor. . . . Yet your God refused to lift a finger for me.”

Does it seem to you-as it certainly seems to me-that God is being blamed for something that man refused to do or did badly? It looks alarmingly plain to me that the ones who failed my correspondent were precisely his fellow men and women. After God had given human beings the instinct to care for the sick, the simple means for curing a broken ankle, had added to the maternal instinct in woman the instinct to nurse, had given to the doctor not only the opportunity to learn through courses in medical school but the example of the divine physician, had filled the world with delicacies for the sick patient and food calculated to restore his full health, what happened?

THEIR FAILURE

Human beings failed. The nurse had her mind on herself and not on her patient, on some attractive, well man and not on the sick man, and she selfishly refused our correspondent the service she was trained to give. The doctor probably estimated my correspondent as “poor pay,” and with his eye on money and not on service he gave short shrift. I wonder whether that particular doctor may not have had his doubts about the existence of any god at all, whether he may not have regarded the patient as a contemptibleanimal, and whether he wouldn’t have laughed out loud had you suggested that he imitate the divine physician.

The earth is filled with food, but some form of human cruelty and selfishness kept that food from the patient’s lips. Though the medicine case was crammed with healing drugs, the patient, because of human callousness, had to roll along the floor to get help.

I should say that God did His part magnificently. The minute man entered the picture, things changed, and the patient was treated badly. Even there the essential gestures of man had been good: He had built the hospital; he had trained the doctor and prepared the nurse; he had built pharmacies in which to compound drugs and kitchens in which to cook food. He had followed God’s plan for human happiness quite far.

ONE FINAL STEP

And then he had failed to take the one final step needed.

Man could have “played God” for the patient in the bed. He could have done glorious, god-like things for the man in bed. And the doctor and the nurse and the cook in the kitchen and the chemist in the pharmacy simply missed their big opportunity. They could have been like God, and they failed.

Precisely there is the tragedy and the mystery. Constantly in our lives God is gratifying our desire to be like Him; He gives us uncounted chances to “play God” in big ways and small, and we boot our opportunities and muff our big chances. In the case of my correspondent men could have stood in the place of God for him-fed him, comforted him, loved him, made him wonderfullyhappy, built up life within him. They could have been the ministers of God’s blessing in his regard; briefly, for him they stood in the place of the Father and the divine physician and the comforter-and with all those chances in their hands, they miserably failed.

LET’S BE LIKE GOD

Whenever I hear or read of anyone who has a strong desire to play God, I feel like shouting, “Well, why don’t you?” When someone boasts in my presence about what he would do or not do if he were God, it comes to me with a shock that he constantly has a chance to make good his boast and evidently is not aware of it. For, throughout our lives God is constantly asking us to substitute for Him and do for our fellow men the godlike things that will make life beautiful and rich and full.

Sometimes we answer this challenge rather well, and the happiness that follows for ourselves and others is glorious. Sometimes we fail miserably, disgracefully, and unhappiness ensues. On a thousand occasions mothers stand to their children inplace of God. Isn’t the world a vastly happier place because they play that part so well? Many a fine physician plays God when he saves a life, brings back health to those who call upon him. I think that a cook in the kitchen plays God for those she feeds quite as much as a great lawyer plays God when he wins justice for a frightened client. I think the young man who protects a girl from sin and temptation plays God very beautifully and strongly, as does the young woman who adds to the beauty of the world the sweet fragrance of her own virtue.

FAILURES AS GOD

Yet, given the chance to play God, we have a way of failing too, too frequently. We are appalled at human cruelty and thoughtlessness and sin in others. Then God gives us a chance to do His work for someone, and we refuse. Instead of making that mother happy, the son, who for long years has a godlike chance to give her joy, breaks her heart. That wife could create a home not too unlike a blissful mansion in heaven; she spoils it with gross selfishness a nagging tongue, ultimate infidelity. That man has so much wealth that he might easily imitate the generous God; he guards it as would a dog in a manger. That woman has an exquisite beauty that should inspire men to think of angels; she uses it to make them beasts.

1 do think that, before we start telling God how to run His world, we might prove that we given a chance to stand briefly in the place of God, have done a first-class job with ourselves. If we have played beautifully in the little corner of the world that depends on us, we may have some right to aspire to higher responsibilities. I notice that people who really try to do a Christ-like job in the spot they occupy are usually too humble about their work to aspire to run the whole world, and usually so busy spreading happiness where they are that theyhaven’t time to taunt God or even to think too much about His running of the universe.

OUR GODLIKE JOBS

The father is like God in that he is a life-bearer, a food-provider, the centre of strength and unity in his family. Is he doing his work with a perfection that is a measurable approach to that of God the Father? A mother brooding over a cradle is a beautiful human substitute for God. I fancy she is so busy that she has little energy left to take over God’s assignments. A teacher has the godlike task of bringing truth from God to his pupils and to channel beauty and the divine reality through himself. A good many modern teachers seem to be much more interested in questioning all truth, doubting God Himself, and dynamiting the beautiful things like virtue and love and marriage and the catholic State.

Why we human beings constantly find our chances for happiness resting in the hands of some fellow human, and at moments like that we hope and pray those human beings will act like God. There’s the bride who knows that her happiness will depend upon the unselfish love and gentle strength of the man she has married. Or the young lawyer who entrusts his integrity and his whole career to the firm of attorneys he enters. There is the patron who, when he pays money at the box office, depends for his laughter and enjoyment and emotional stimulus on the producer whose play he has come to see or the musician who directs the orchestra he has come to hear. A sick person brings his body to his physician; a reader brings his mind trustfully to the author of the book. Children can make or break the happiness of their parents. A purchaser trustfully picks up goods from the counter, and the salesman has for the moment a chance to become like the provident and meticulously honest God. A citizen casts his vote for a candidate, conferring on him God-shared powers. Into the classroom walks the pupil, who looks trustingly to his teacher, as does the client to the judge on the bench, the widow to the banker in whose keeping she places her trust funds.

But certainly there is no need to continue the list. It is the plainest of facts that we are constantly standing in place of God for those who depend upon us. And our own happiness in a normal life depends a million times upon the godlike conduct of others.

Nihil obstat;

F. Moynihan,

Censor Deputatus.

Imprimatur.

@ D. MANNIX,

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis. 20/11/1943

********

Marriage

CATHOLIC OR MIXED?

PROTESTANT AND CATHOLIC RELATIONS FRANKLY DISCUSSED

BY REV. JOHN A. O”BRIEN

INDEX

“Why does the Catholic Church forbid her members to marry persons outside her fold? In our country, where religious tolerance is so necessary and should be encouraged in every way possible, is not the ruling of your Church on this subject narrow-minded and apt to breed intolerance? It builds up needless barriers between our citizens. It isolates them into clannish groups and prevents their free assimilation into a unified citizenry, so essential for the wellbeing of such a country as ours, which is composed of people of every race and of every faith.”

Such was the view recently expressed to the writer by a non-Catholic friend. His words reflect a sentiment common among our separated brethren. In proceeding to answer the criticism, let us first assure our dear non-Catholic readers that we agree heartily with them upon the necessity not merely of tolerance, but even of friendliness and good will, throughout the whole vast domain of our common civic relationships. To discriminate against a person in business or politics simply because of a difference in religion or in race is indeed un-Australian.* We Catholics, who have been among the chief victims of such discrimination, will be the last people in the world to defend bigotry in any of its forms. Whether those forms be racial or religious, they are all alike-ugly, un-Australian and un-Catholic-and merit our unqualified condemnation.

IDEA OF TOLERANCE PUSHED TOO FAR

The idea of tolerance, however, can be pushed too far. It can be intruded into domains where it has no relevance. Thus tothe query, “What is the sum of two and three?” no one would expect the teacher to smile as benignly and as friendly upon the response, “ninety-seven” as upon the answer “five.” Why? Because truth has rights which error does not possess. Tolerance does not mean that people cannot hold certain principles to be true and others to be false without being guilty of narrow-mindedness.

Thus Catholics believe that the doctrines taught by Christ and promulgated by the Church which He founded are correct. They believe that all doctrines which contradict anything in the deposit of divine revelation are wrong,. But they do not carry their disagreements on matters of religious belief into the altogether disparate field of business or politics, and discriminate in these fields against those with whom they differ on religious grounds. To do so would be intolerance, bigotry and fanaticism; it would go counter to the whole spirit of the Catholic Church and to everything for which she stands.

WHY THE CHURCH OPPOSES MIXED MARRIAGES

Having thus cleared the way, we can now come to grips with the real problem: Why does the Church oppose mixed marriages? She does so not because she is lacking in high esteem for non-Catholics nor because she is indifferent to their happiness. It is precisely because she loves non-Catholics, children of the same Heavenly Father as we, and because she is as solicitous for their happiness and welfare as she is for that of her own children that she bids them to marry those of their own faith and bids Catholics to do likewise. From long experience she knows that marriages between persons sincerely attached to different religious faiths contain elements of danger to the happiness of both parties and to the stability of their union.

The Church speaks in this matter not from the experience of but one generation or of one country, but from many centuries of experience in all the countries of the world. Reason and common sense testify that where there is a difference on one of the most important matters in life, there is a subtle line of cleavage which should not be present in a union that is meant to be the most intimate that human beings can ever contract on this earth-a union of heart, mind, and soul, a union of aspirations and of prayer.

*[For ‘un-Australian’ you can read ‘un-American,’ or ‘un-British,’ or ‘un’ whatever country that truly values its countrymen. It certainly means Discrimination is un-Catholic, as it is opposed to the principles of Christ, Our Lord.]

Then, too, it must be remembered that the Church, mindful of the obligation imposed on her by her divine Founder of safeguarding the faith of her children and of her children’s children, is deeply concerned over their entering for life into an atmosphere likely to damage or at least chill their faith. It is because such marriages frequently lead to religious indifference on the part of the parents and to the neglect of the religious up-rearing of the offspring that the Church forbids them. In her eyes the greatest treasure in life is the deposit of religious truth given to mankind by Jesus Christ; it is the pearl of great price. She would rather suffer death a thousand times than to deny that faith or to betray her trust; no consideration of wealth or social preferment or political influence could ever recompense for the loss of faith in even one of her children.

THE CHURCH -A TRUE MOTHER

With this profound faith in the supreme value of the religion of Jesus Christ, and with a keen consciousness of her divinely appointed duty of safeguarding that deposit of truth in all its integrity for all generations of men, is it not natural that she would warn against any and every danger threatening the faith of her children? She would not be a faithful mother if she did not exhaust every ingenuity to remove any condition menacing her children’s birthright. Must not our fairminded citizens of other faiths then be prompted to sentiments of admiration for the Church’s ceaseless policy of protecting her children from serious dangers to their faith-a policy which is alone consistent with her belief in its supreme value?

“But if the Catholic religion is the true religion, as a Catholic believes it is, then why should there be any danger of his losing his faith from association in marriage with a non-Catholic? Does this not imply a lack of conviction in the intrinsic strength of the credentials of the Catholic faith? It shows that the Catholic religion needs a hothouse atmosphere, from which blasts from the outside are carefully excluded, to preserve it intact.” Such is the objection which some of our non-Catholic readers may feel inclined at this point to interject.

The objection overlooks the fact, however, that men and women are not mere machines for logical reasoning but are flesh and blood, influenced by emotions and feelings as much perhaps as by intellectual considerations. Take a young man, for instance, who has the conviction that the moral law should be obeyed; it is a conviction well grounded in reason. Place him in an environment where temptation assails him on every side: vice clothed in the beguiling garb of beauty intrigues his imagination, stirs his emotions, inflames his passions. He is like a reed shaken by the wind. No person of experience will question the powerful influence of daily environment upon any human being. Because the Church recognizes this fact she strives to safeguard her children from lifelong residence in surroundings uncongenial to their religious faith.

Then, too, owing to the lack of religious instruction in school and in the home, many of her children are not properly grounded in their faith. In consequence, unfavourable criticism, ridicule, social pressure, political discrimination and many other extraneous considerations prompt them to sell their birthright for a mess of pottage.

EFFECT ON CHILDREN

The influence of the home environment is probably most marked in the case of the children. With the spectacle of a division in religious creed among their own parents, it is indeed difficult to develop a strong, robust faith in the offspring. How natural it is then for the child who has grown up in such a divided home to say: “If my own parents cannot agree as to which is the true religion, how can I?” Even when the non-Catholic father goes to no church and honestly tries to encourage the children to practise the faith of their Catholic mother, he is working against great odds. Example is more powerful than precept. If the latter does not square with example, it is likely to be of little value, as the following incident illustrates.

In a home where the non-Catholic father strove to fulfil the promise he made at the time of his marriage to see that the children were reared in the Catholic faith, there was every outward appearance of success crowning his efforts. On Sunday morning the father prided himself on the regularity with which he called the children and saw that they went to Mass with their mother. He himself remained at home reading the worldling’s bible-the Sunday newspaper. In such an environment, where the paternal example is at right angles with the precept, the children grew to maturity.

Finally, on one Sunday morning when he called his son for Mass, the latter refused to arise. Astonished, the father said to him:

“Why, what does this mean? Have I not trained you from early youth to attend to your religious duties? Why are you not going today the same as on other Sundays?”

“Father,” replied the son, “you have always called me and told me to go, but you have never gone yourself. I am no child any longer. I am a man. And I figure that if you don’t have to go, neither do I”

The logic of his contention the father could not deny. Little had he realized that his own example was undermining the foundations of the faith he was seeking by precept alone to build for his child. Thus in every home where there is a division of religious faith, the force of parental example is fashioning slowly but surely its tangled imprint upon the impressionable mind and memory of the children-an imprint they will carry with them to their dying day.

INFLUENCE OF EXAMPLE

As this point is crucial in securing a correct understanding as to why the Church does not consider a mixed marriage as the ideal, let us present one further illustration.

In a large city parish a class of little children had just been prepared to receive their First Holy Communion. The pastor had established the beautiful custom of having the parents kneel at the side of each child and receive their Eucharistic Lord along with their offspring. As he went along the rail, distributing the bread of angels to his young communicants and to their proud parents, he could not wholly close his eyes to the beauty, innocence and happiness radiating from the upturned faces of the little children. Then of a sudden he came upon one, a little girl of eight, whose reddened eyes and saddened face contrasted sharply with the holy joy mantling the countenances of her school-mates.

On one side the mother was kneeling. But on the other there was . . . a vacancy. Thinking that some foolish scruple was disturbing her, the priest bent low and said: “Don’t worry, my dear child, Jesus will comfort and bless you.”

Then after placing upon her tongue the heavenly manna, he whispered: “Come into the sacristy for a moment after the Mass.” When later she appeared with her mother, the secret came out.

Apparelled in her dress of white, with a wreath of flowers upon her brow and the smile on her face mirroring the joy in her heart, the little child, just before leaving for Mass, had turned to her father with the words:

“Won’t you please come with me, Daddy, and kneel near me when I make my First Holy Communion?”

“I don’t believe in such things,” the father had replied, and walked away.

If he had taken a dagger and plunged it into the heart of his little girl he could scarcely have broken her heart more completely. Taught by the sisters in school and by her mother that she would receive her Lord and Saviour in Holy Communion, the words of her father, not intended to hurt her, had actually stabbed her to the quick.

INFLUENCE OF HOME

Example does count. The influence of the home is more powerful than any school; for it teaches not by precept alone but by example as well. Parents are designed by God and nature to be thechild’s most effective teachers. If there is disagreement on the matter of religion between these two teachers, it is difficult to see how the pupil can escape the penalty in the form, of religious confusion and bewilderment.

It is true that there are those who say: “Difference in religion need not affect the happiness of the family life, nor mar its unity.” If all such could have witnessed the crushing effect of the father’s words upon his little child they would realize that they are in a world of speculative theories and not in our actual world of flesh and blood, where the tears flow and hearts ache because a family is cut in twain by the sword of religious differences. Religion does count in the happiness of the family; it is a bond that unites or a sword that tends to separate. It touches the unity of the family at a crucial point. There are exceptions, of course, but they only prove the rule.

MIXED MARRIAGES

“If the Church has a law forbidding mixed marriages, why does she grant so many dispensations therefrom, thus allowing such marriages to take place?” Such is a question often on the lips of our non-Catholic friends. While holding fast to the ideal of a Catholic marriage, the Church understands that the ideal is not capable of realization in every instance and under all circumstances. Her vast army of more than four hundred and thirty million members [1962,] is scattered out among all the nations of the world.

In daily contact with such neighbours, surrounding us on every hand, the Church realizes that the occasional development of friendships and courtships leading to the marriage of a Catholic with a non-Catholic is in such an environment simply inevitable. She does not bury her head in the sand, ignoring unpleasant realities; she faces them honestly and squarely. She applies her laws in the light of actual conditions, having always in mind the welfare and happiness, temporal and eternal, of her children.

DISPENSATION REQUIREMENTS

When circumstances prevent the attainment of the ideal, then the Church legislates to obtain the next best result. Rather than say to one of her children who, deeply in love with a nonCatholic, feels that her life’s happiness is conditioned upon her marrying him, “You can never, under any circumstances, marry such a person,” the Church follows a kindlier and more sympathetic policy. It is a policy which reflects the Church’s twin solicitude for the promotion of human happiness and the preservation of the faith of her children. She grants a dispensation to such an individual for sufficient grounds, permitting her to marry a Protestant or a person unbaptized in any faith. This she does, however, only when she has been given assurances of the proper safeguarding of the faith of the Catholic party and of the children. [1962 Rule.]

These assurances are contained in the following promises which are signed by the non-Catholic party in the presence of two witnesses: “I, the undersigned, not a member of the Catholic Church, wishing to contract marriage with N. N., a member of the Catholic Church, intend to do so with the understanding that the marriage tie cannot be dissolved, except by death, and promise her on my word of honour, that she shall enjoy the free exercise of her Catholic religion, and that all the children of either sex born of this marriage, shall be baptized and educated in the faith and according to the teaching of the Roman Catholic Church. I further promise that no marriage ceremony other than that to be performed by the Catholic priest shall take place.”

The Catholic party likewise signs the following promise: “I, the undersigned, a member of the Catholic Church, wishing to contract marriage with N. N., do hereby promise that I will have all my children baptized and educated in the Catholic religion, and that I will practise my religion faithfully and do all I can, especially by prayer, example and the frequentation of the sacraments, to bring about the conversion of my consort.”

The Catholic party now declares that he is ready to remove dangers of falling away from the faith, and, under grave obligation, makes a sincere promise to do all in his power to have all the children baptized and brought up in the Catholic Church.

The non-Catholic party is absolutely informed of these promises made by the Catholic party, so that he is cognizant of the promise and obligation on the part of the Catholic. Both parties are clearly instructed on the ends and essential properties of Marriage, not to be excluded by either party. The dignity of marriage, and especially with regard to its principal characteristics, unity and indissolubility, is thus to be stressed.

IS IT NARROW-MINDED?

“Is it not narrow-minded and unreasonable for the Church to ask that all the children be reared in the Catholic faith? Would it not be fairer if the Church allowed the boys to be brought up in the faith of their father and the girls in that of the mother?” Such are questions frequently raised by non-Catholics. The answer: Underlying these questions is the assumption, commonly made by the non-Catholic, that all religions are about the same-equally good and equally true. On that assumption the Church’s stand is one-sided. But that assumption is false.

Christ founded not many churches, but one Church. Catholics honestly believe that theirs is that Church. On the basis of actual fact and historical truth, the Church’s policy is not unreasonable but, on the contrary, is the only one which demands for truth rights which error does not possess. If the Church were to compromise, actively allow some to be brought up outside her fold, she would be false to her divinely appointed mission of teaching to all mankind the truths taught by Christ. The Church is, therefore, under a divine obligation to protect the faith of her children and of her children’s children. The Church not only believes in her divine origin and mission, but she has the courage to translate that belief into action.

For the same reason the Church finds herself obligated to require that the marriage be performed by a Catholic priest. To sanction the marriage of one of her children with a non-Catholic before a non-Catholic minister would mean that the Church was implicitly recognizing such a denomination, founded by a mere man, to be of equal validity with the Church established by Jesus Christ. This the Church could do only at the cost of her intellectual integrity. [ The Church recognizes the validity (but not the lawfulness if no dispensation was granted) of mixed Marriages performed in the Oriental Orthodox Churches, who have maintained an authentic priesthood and believe that Marriage is one of Christ’s Seven Sacraments. These Churches are effectively “only” in schism as they acknowledge all Catholic truths except those surrounding the on-going role of Peter in the Church and Papal supremacy.]

Moreover, the Catholic Church regards marriage as a sacrament, while most non-Catholic ministers do not [except for the Oriental Orthodox Churches]. With no wish to hurt the feelings of our dear non-Catholic friends, the Church finds herself compelled by the clear conscience of her divine origin and of the mission divinely appointed unto her to give to error no more recognition than her divine Founder gave to it. [A marriage between two baptized persons, of whom one is a Catholic, while the other is a non-Catholic, may not licitly be contracted without the previous dispensation of the local bishop, since such a marriage is by its nature an obstacle to the full spiritual communion of the married parties. In all marriages between baptized persons the actual “minister” of Marriage is the baptized spouses. (The majority of Protestant churches administer a valid Baptism.) However, without the proper dispensation, such a marriage is not licit as Pope Paul VI made clear.]

A FORM OF TREASON

To place the churches founded by Martin Luther, John Calvin, John Knox, John Wesley, Mrs. Mary Baker Eddy and by Mrs. Aimee Semple MacPherson Hutton on the same plane as the Church founded by Christ, and to clothe them with the same authority, would be for her to commit the sin of apostasy. That is why the Church forbids her children to attempt to contract matrimony before the minister of an heretical sect. Those unworthy members who deliberately and wilfully violate that solemn law the Church punishes with excommunication. For they are guilty not only of grievous disobedience to the Church, but also of treason to the faith of Jesus Christ.

Catholics who attempt marriage before a civil officer, such as the justice of the peace, sin mortally and do not contract a valid religious marriage. They do not, however, incur the penalty of excommunication, because they have not committed the sin of apostasy or of treason to the faith. Since the Ne Temere decree of Pius X, which went into effect on Easter Sunday, 19 April, 1908, a Catholic can be validly married only before a Catholic priest. This legislation applies only to Catholics, as the Church does not legislate for non-Catholics as such. CONTRARY TO A CHARGE FREQUENTLY MADE, THE CATHOLIC RECOGNIZES THE VALIDITY OF THE MARRIAGE OF PROTESTANTS CONTRACTED EITHER BEFORE THEIR OWN MINISTERS OR BEFORE A CIVIL OFFICER.

“Is it not true that your Church, although ostensibly opposing mixed marriages, nevertheless grants a dispensation when sufficient money is offered for the same?”

Such is the notion existing among many of our separated friends. It is, however, without foundation. The Council of Trent decreed that marriage dispensations, if granted at all, should be given without charge. The same law has been promulgated many times by the Popes and by the Sacred Congregations.

SUPREMACY OF TRUTH

At a good-will seminar of Protestants, Jews and Catholics held at the University of Illinois for the purpose of removing needless sources of friction in the civic relations of these various groups, a Protestant spokesman pointed in a friendly manner to the Church’s marriage laws as a source of antagonism. “The Church’s requirements,” he said, “that the marriage of a Catholic to a Protestant must take place only before a Catholic priest and that all children must be raised in the Catholic faith, are irritating to many Protestants. To us it seems not only a one-sided arrangement, but also a crafty device whereby the Catholic Church ensnares many of our members into her fold. Could not this requirement be modified so that the Protestants would have equal rights in the selection of the officiating minister and in the religious rearing of the children?”

By way of reply, the writer pointed out, as previously indicated, that this question cannot properly be answered by itself alone. It is necessary to go much deeper, to raise and to answer the question underlying his whole viewpoint, namely, are all religions of equal validity, all equally good and equally true? Or is there but one religion, founded by Jesus Christ, which possesses rights and authority which no sect founded by mere man can properly claim?. We undertake to show on objective evidence, by the facts of history, by the words and deeds of Christ, by the teaching of the Apostles, by the voice of tradition, by the unbroken continuity of Apostolic succession, by the overwhelming testimony of impartial historians of every faith, that the Catholic Church was not only founded by Jesus Christ but also that she was in existence for almost fifteen centuries before Protestantism first saw the light of day. Throughout His whole ministry Christ insisted upon unity of faith. Following the example of her divine Father, the Church does likewise.

She would be guilty of disloyalty to her deepest convictions if she compromised in her doctrines with any of the creeds founded in opposition to the faith of Jesus Christ. It is true that this uncompromising stand of the Church in regard to the truth of her teachings, and her steadfast refusal to place on a basis of equal validity creeds which contradict her doctrines, may not be particularly pleasing to non-Catholics. It may even irritate them, as the speaker declared. But does it differ from the position of her divine Founder Who solemnly declared: “He that believes and is baptized shall be saved; he that believes not shall be condemned”? (Mark 16:16)

A CRAFTY DEVICE?

In regard to the second charge of the Protestant spokesman that the Church’s marriage legislation is a crafty device by which she seeks to ensnare as many Protestants as possible into her fold, the answer is obvious. If this were true, the Church would not be forbidding mixed marriages, but she would be encouraging them. The fact is, however, that she warns her children against them.

In all these ways the Church drives home to her children that a mixed marriage is not her ideal. From long experience she knows that the offspring of such marriages not infrequently grow up unaffiliated with any church and remain throughout their life indifferent to all organized religion. She would much prefer to have them members of some Church than believers in none.

Furthermore, the thought of ensnaring or entrapping through subtle craft any human being into her fold is entirely alien to the whole spirit of the Church.

She admits to membership only one who comes of his own free will, and then only after he is profoundly convinced of the truth of her teachings as the result of a thorough course of instruction. She would not dream of admitting a person who was under the slightest coercion; nor would she receive one whose decision was the result of mere impulse and not grounded on intellectual convictions.

In her eyes membership in the household of faith is a priceless treasure; it can never be imposed from without but must always come from the intellect and the will of man. Our Protestant friends need have no fear, therefore, that the Catholic Church is engaged in a conspiracy to deplete their ranks through her laws in regard to mixed marriages. The Church is happy to see them marry within their own faiths, as she is delighted to see her children achieve her ideal of a Catholic marriage, where the faith will be vivified through united action instead of being weakened by divergence in creed and in practice.

A BASIC DIFFERENCE

A pronouncement of the Federal Council of Churches of Christ in America commented unfavourably upon the requirements of the Catholic Church in the case of mixed marriages. Replying to such criticism, the chairman of the administrative committee of the American hierarchy pointed out that the Church does not encourage such alliances, BUT IS IN AGREEMENT WITH NON-CATHOLIC LEADERS IN STRESSING THE ADVISABILITY OF MARRIAGE AMONG MEMBERS OF THE SAME RELIGIOUS FAITH. What more can the Church do, than she is now doing, to discourage mixed marriages and to encourage her children to marry within their own fold? The fact that the vast majority of non-Catholics experience little or no religious scruple in signing the required promises testifies to the levity with which denominational ties rest upon them.

This is due to the cardinal principle of Protestantism, namely, the supremacy of private judgement in religion, Acting on this principle, a Protestant suffers no qualms of conscience in renouncing his previous creed and embracing another which appeals more to him. He knows that his denomination cannot consistently bid him nay. For, according to this root principle of Protestantism, whence have sprung such a bewildered variety of sects and creeds, the individual becomes the supreme court from which there is no appeal.

In the Catholic religion, on the other hand, the principle of authority, in contradistinction to that of private judgement, is recognized as supreme. The authority of Jesus Christ and of the Church which He authorized to teach in His name is regarded by the Catholic as a safe and reliable guide in matters of religious belief. The fundamental principle of his faith does not admit, therefore, of the flexibility by which the non-Catholic can pass so easily from one creed to another. Then, too, may it not truly be said that no non-Catholic denomination feels sufficiently sure of itself as to proclaim that it is the one true church of Jesus Christ? The corporate uncertainty that characterizes practically all non-Catholic denominations today reflects itself in the unsettledness and the groping for greater security of truth which are manifest among vast numbers of their nominal adherents. These are factors which must be recognized in any honest and impartial study of the shifting of religious affiliations occasioned by mixed marriages.

LOVE OF GOD AND MAN

In conclusion, it can be truthfully said that the Church has never envisaged, and does not now envisage, mixed marriages as occasions for increasing her membership at the expense of non-Catholic faiths. On the contrary, she wishes her children to live in peace and friendship with their fellow citizens of every faith. She is anxious to remove every needless source of friction which carries over into the civic relationships of her members with those of other faiths. In her marriage legislation she has at heart the welfare and happiness not only of her own children but of those who are without. Rather than blast forever the dreams of happiness of a non-Catholic by depriving him of all possibility of marrying the girl he loves, the Church permits such a union, provided proper safeguards for the faith are assured.

Does not this maternal attitude reflect an admirable blending of unfaltering loyalty to the truth with a tender solicitude for the happiness of all people, Catholic and non-Catholic alike? Can our fellow Australians [or any of our fellow citizens of this world] justly criticize the Church for her stand on mixed marriage, when she does everything possible, short of betrayal of her divinely appointed trust, to enable the non-Catholic to realize his dreams of conjugal love and happiness? In the Church’s attitude on this vexing problem, our fellow citizens of other faiths who have followed this discussion with open minds and in a spirit of impartiality will perceive, we are confident, a reflection of the love and loyalty of the Church to her divine Founder and of her love and devotion for all His children.

* * * * *

Marriage And The Moral Law

ADDRESSES OF POPE PIUS XII

INDEX

VEGLIARE CON SOLLECITUDINE

ADDRESS TO THE ITALIAN ASSOCIATION OF CATHOLIC MIDWIVES

INTRODUCTION

THE MIDWIFE’S CHRISTIAN DUTY

BELOVED DAUGHTERS, the object of your profession, the secret of its grandeur and its beauty lies in this, that you guard with care the silent, humble cradle wherein Almighty God has infused an immortal soul into the seed provided by the parents, and this you do in order to give your professional assistance to the mother and to prepare a successful birth for the child she carried in her womb.

When you reflect on the wonderful collaboration of the parents, of nature and of God, as a result of which a new human being is born to the image and likeness of the Creator (cf. Gen. 1: 26, 27), you cannot help valuing at its proper worth the precious co-operation you contribute to an event of such importance. The heroic mother of the Machabees said to her sons:’I know not how you were formed in my womb; for I neither gave you breath nor soul, nor life, neither did I frame the limbs of every one of you. But the Creator of the world formed the nativity of man’ (2 Mach. 7: 22).

Hence whoever approaches this cradle of the formation of life and plays a part there, in one way or another, should know the order the Creator lays down to be followed and the laws that rule this order. For here it is not a question of physical or of biological laws which are automatically, obeyed by agents not endowed with reason, or of blind forces, but it is a question of laws, the execution and the effects of which are confided to the voluntary and free co-operation of man.

This order founded by a supreme intellect is directed to the end designed by the Creator. It embraces not only the external acts of man, but also the internal consent of his free will-it covers acts as well as omissions when duty so demands. Nature places at man’s disposal the whole chain of the causes which give rise to a new human life; it is man’s part to release the living force, and to nature pertains the development of that force, leading to its completion. Once man has fulfilled his part and set in motion the marvellous evolution of life, it is his duty to respect religiously its progress and the same duty forbids him either to halt the course of nature or to prevent its natural development.

Thus the part played by nature and the part played by man are precisely determined. Your professional training and experience enable you to know the part played by nature and by man, together with the rules and laws to which both are subject. Your conscience, enlightened by reason and by faith under the guidance of divine authority, teaches you on the one hand what you may lawfully do and on the other hand what you are in duty bound to refrain from doing.

In the light of these principles, We now propose to lay before you some considerations on the apostolate to which your profession binds you. Every profession willed by God carries with it a mission-the mission to carry out, within the bounds of the profession itself, the plan and intention of the Creator and to help man to understand the justice and the holiness of the divine scheme and the benefit that will be given to those who carry it out.

I: YOUR PROFESSIONAL APOSTOLATE IS CARRIED OUT FIRST AND FOREMOST THROUGH YOUR PERSONAL INFLUENCE

YOUR ADVICE IS EXPECTED

Why is your service called for? Because people are convinced that you know your business, because you know what is good for the mother and child, because you are aware of the dangers to which both are exposed and how these same dangers may be avoided and overcome. Your advice and help are expected, limited though they may be and not infallible, but in keeping with the latest developments both in theory and in fact of the profession in which you specialise.

And if all this is expected of you, it is because people have confidence in you, and this confidence is, above all, something personal. Your character must inspire it. That this confidence in you be not misplaced is not only your keen desire, but also something demanded by your office and profession and consequently your bounden duty. Hence you strive to reach the summit of the knowledge of your craft.

YOUR PROFESSIONAL COMPETENCE

But your professional skill is demanded, too, by the nature of your apostolate. What weight, in point of fact, would your views on the moral and religious issues connected with your office carry, if you were seen to be lacking in professional knowledge? On the other hand your intervention in the moral and religious field will be the more effective if, by your superior technical ability, you command respect. To the favourable opinion that you will deservedly win for yourselves there will be added also in the minds of those who seek your help, the well founded belief that your Christian convictions faithfully put into practice, far from being an obstacle to your professional worth, will be its support and guarantee. It will be plain to all that in the exercise of your profession you are aware of your responsibility before God-and that it is your faith in God which is the strongest argument encouraging you to give your assistance with greater devotion in proportion to the gravity of the need. In this solid religious foundation you find the strength to counter any unreasonable and immoral claim from whatever quarter with a calm, undaunted and unswerving denial.

CHRISTIAN SINCERITY

Esteemed and appreciated as you are for your personal conduct no less than for your knowledge and experience, you will find the care of mother and child will be readily confided to you, and, perhaps even without you yourselves realising it, you will exercise a profound, often silent, but efficacious apostolate of a living Christianity. Great, in fact, as may be the moral authority due to qualities strictly professional, your personal influence will find its fulfilment chiefly in the twofold guarantee of genuine human feeling and real christian living.

II: THE SECOND ASPECT OF YOUR APOSTOLATE IS YOUR ZEAL TO UPHOLD THE VALUE AND INVIOLABILITY OF HUMAN LIFE

YOUR DUTY

The world today has urgent need of conviction in this regard by the threefold testimony of mind, heart and facts. Your profession offers you the possibility of giving such testimony and even lays upon you the duty of doing so. Sometimes this testimony will take the form of a simple word spoken tactfully at the right moment to the mother or the father; more frequently it will be expressed in your demeanour and the conscientious way in which you act will have an unobtrusive but effective influence on them both. You more than anyone else are in a position to know and appreciate what human life is in itself and to determine its worth in the light of sound reasoning, of your own moral conscience, of civil society, of the Church, and, above all, in the eyes of God. The Lord has made all the other things on earth for man, and man himself, both in his existence and in his essence, has been fashioned for God and not for other creatures, even though, in so far as his behaviour is concerned, he has a duty to the community. Now even the unborn child is’man’ to the same degree and by the same title as the mother.

THE LIFE OF THE INFANT, EVEN UNBORN, BELONGS TO GOD

Furthermore every human being, even a child in the mother’s womb, has a right to life directly from God and not from the parents or from any human society or authority. Hence there is no man, no human authority, no science, no medical, eugenic, social, economic or moral’indication’ that can offer or produce a valid juridical title to a direct deliberate disposal of an innocent human life; that is to say, a disposal that aims at its destruction whether as an end or as a means to another end which is, perhaps, in no way unlawful in itself. Thus for example, to save the life of the mother is a very noble end; but the direct killing of the child as a means to that end is not lawful. The direct destruction of the so-called’life without value’ whether born or yet to be born, such as was practised very widely a few years ago, cannot in any way be justified. Hence when this practice began, the Church formally declared that it was against the natural law and the divine positive law, and consequently unlawful to kill, even by order of the public authorities, those who were innocent but, on account of some physical or mental defect, rendered useless to the State and a burden upon it.* The life of one who is innocent is untouchable, and any direct attempt or aggression against it is a violation of one of the fundamental laws without which secure human society is impossible. We have no need to teach you in detail the meaning and the gravity in your profession of this fundamental law. But never forget that there rises above every man-made code and above every’indication’ the faultless law of God.

‘THOU SHALL NOT KILL’

The apostolate of your profession demands of you that you pass on to others that knowledge of human life, that regard and respect for it, which your christian faith nurtures in your hearts.

You must, when called upon, be prepared to defend resolutely and to protect, when possible, the helpless and hidden life of the child, following the divine precept’Non occides,’ Thou shalt not kill (Exod. 20: 13). Such defensive action becomes at times most necessary and urgent, but nevertheless, it is not the most noble and important part of your mission. This, in fact, is not purely negative, but is eminently constructive and it aims at encouraging, edifying and strengthening.

THE CHILD IS A GIFT FROM GOD ‘S LOVE

Instil into the minds and hearts of the mother and father the esteem and joyous desire of the new-born child so that it is welcomed with love from the moment of its birth. The child, formed in the womb of the mother, is a gift from God (Ps. 126: 3), who confides its care to the parents. With what a delicate and charming touch does Holy Writ describe the children seated at table with their father! They form the reward of the just man, whereas sterility is often the punishment of the sinner. Listen to the divine utterance expressed with the matchless poetry of the Psalmist:’Thy wife as a fruitful vine, on the sides of thy house. Thy children as olive plants, round about thy table. Behold, thus shall the man be blessed that feareth the Lord!’ (Ps. 127: 3–4). But of the wicked man it is written:’May his posterity be cut off; in one generation may his name be blotted out’ (Ps. 108: 13).

Hasten to lay the new-born child in the arms of the father as did the Romans of old, but do it for an incomparably higher motive. With the Romans it was a recognition of paternity and of the authority that arises from it; with us, it will be to pay homage to the Creator, to call down God’s blessing and to undertake to carry out with devout affection the office which God has entrusted to him. If Our Lord praises and rewards the faithful servant for having made good use of five talents (cf. Matt. 25: 21), what praise, what a recompense, will He not set aside for the father who has protected and reared for Him the human life which was confided to him; a treasure of greater value than all the gold and silver in the world.

HELP THE MOTHER TO ENJOY HER HAPPINESS

Your apostolate, however, is concerned above all with the mother. Without doubt the voice of nature speaks in her and places in her heart the desire, the courage, the love and the will to take care of the child; but in order to overcome the suggestions of faint-heartedness from whatever cause, that voice needs to be strengthened and to strike, so to speak, a supernatural note. It falls to you, by your bearing and manner of acting rather than by words, to make the young mother realise the greatness, the beauty, the nobility of that life which now is awakening, and which is being shaped and quickened in the womb, the life that is born of her, that she carries in her arms and nourishes at her breast. It rests with you to help her to appreciate the greatness of the gift of God’s love for her and for her child. The Sacred Scriptures bring to our ears with many examples an echo of the prayers of supplication and, then, of the hymns of grateful joy of many mothers whose prayers at length were heard after having long implored with tears the grace of motherhood. And those sorrows, too, which, after original sin, the mother has to suffer to bring her child into the world, help to bind more tightly the link which unites them. Her love is in proportion to her suffering. This has been expressed with moving and profound simplicity by Him who has formed the hearts of mothers:’A woman, when she

* Decree of the Holy Office, 2nd December 1940-Acts Apost. Sedis Vol. xxxii, 1940, pages 553–554. is in labour, hath sorrow because her hour is come; but when she hath brought forth the child, she remembereth no more the anguish, for joy that a man has been born into the world’ (John 16: 21). Besides, the Holy Spirit, by the pen of the Apostle St Paul, shows once again the grandeur and joy of motherhood; God gives the child to the mother but in giving it, He makes her co-operate effectively in the unfolding of the flower, the seed of which He had sown in her, and this co-operation becomes the way that leads her to eternal salvation.’She shall be saved through child-bearing’ (1 Tim. 2: 15).

This perfect agreement between faith and reason gives you a guarantee that you are in the right and that you can pursue with unconditional security your apostolate of appreciation and love of the life that is being born. Should you succeed in exercising this apostolate at the side of the cradle in which the newly-born utters its first cries, it will not be difficult for you to achieve what your conscience as midwives, in keeping with the law of God and of nature, expects you to prescribe for the good of the mother and the child.

THE ‘BURDEN’ OF CHILDREN

It is not, moreover, necessary for Us to prove to you who have experienced it, how essential nowadays is that apostolate of appreciation and love for the new life. Unfortunately, cases are not rare in which even a cautious reference to children as a’blessing’ is enough to provoke a downright denial and perhaps even derision. Far more frequently, in thought and in words, the attitude of considering children a heavy ‘burden’ predominates. How opposed is this frame of mind to the mind of God and to the words of Holy Scripture, and, for that matter, to sound reason and the sentiment of nature ! Should there be conditions and circumstances in which parents, without violating the law of God, can avoid the’blessing’ of children, such cases of force majeure, however, by no means authorise the perversion of ideas, the disparaging of values, the belittling of the mother who has had the courage and the honour to give life.

BE READY TO BAPTISE, IF NECESSARY

If what We have said up to now deals with the protection and the care of the natural life, it should hold all the more in regard to the supernatural life which the newly-born infant receives with baptism. In the present economy there is no other way of communicating this life to the child who has not yet the use of reason. But, nevertheless, the state of grace at the moment of death is absolutely necessary for salvation. Without it, it is not possible to attain supernatural happiness, the beatific vision of God. An act of love can suffice for an adult to obtain sanctifying grace and supply for the absence of baptism; for the unborn child or for the newly-born, this way is not open. If, then, we hold that charity towards our neighbour imposes upon us the obligation of helping him in case of necessity, this obligation is increased in proportion to the importance of the good to be procured or the evil to be avoided. Again, it is increased when the person in need is unable to help or save himself. It is, therefore, easy to understand the importance of giving baptism to the infant completely without the use of reason, when it is in serious danger or facing certain death. Undoubtedly this obligation is binding in the first place on the parents; but in urgent cases, where there is no time to lose, or it is impossible to obtain a priest, yours is the sublime duty of administering baptism. Do not, then, fail in performing this charitable service and in exercising this active apostolate of your profession. Let the words of Jesus be your comfort and your encouragement:’Blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy’ (Matt. 5: 7). And what act of mercy is greater or more beautiful than to ensure for the soul of the infant between the threshold of life it has just crossed and that of approaching death, the entrance into a glorious and happy eternity

III: THE THIRD ASPECT OF YOUR APOSTOLATE MAY BE DESCRIBED AS HELPING THE MOTHER IN THE PROMPT AND GENEROUS FULFILMENT OF HER MARITAL DUTIES

MOTHERHOOD IS A SHARE IN GOD ‘S GOODNESS AND POWER

Scarcely had Mary most holy understood the Angel’s message than she replied:’Behold the handmaid of the Lord! Be it done unto me according to thy word’ (Luke 1: 38). An eager acceptance of the vocation of motherhood! Virginal motherhood incomparably superior to any other; yet a real motherhood in the true and proper meaning of the word (cf. Gal. 4: 4). For this reason, when reciting the Angelus and after recalling Mary’s acceptance, the faithful finish at once with:’And the Word was made flesh’ (John 1: 14).

It is one of the fundamental requirements of the right moral order that, with the use of the conjugal rights, there should correspond a sincere acceptance of the duties of motherhood. On this condition, the woman follows the path traced by the Creator to the end He has appointed for the creature, making her, by the exercise of that function, a sharer in His goodness, His wisdom, and His omnipotence in accordance with the Angel’s announcement;’Concipies in utero et paries’-’Thou shalt conceive in thy womb and shalt bring forth a son’ (Luke 1: 31).

If such then is the biological foundation of your professional activity, the urgent object of your apostolate will be to strive to sustain, to reawaken and stimulate the mother’s instinct and the mother’s love.

LAWFUL AND UNLAWFUL REQUESTS

When spouses value and appreciate the honour of producing a new life, and await its coming with a holy impatience, your part is a very easy one; it will be sufficient to cultivate this interior sentiment in them; the readiness to welcome and cherish that growing life follows automatically. Unfortunately, however, it is not always the case; the child is often not wanted; worse still, its coming is often dreaded. In such conditions, how can there be a ready response to the call of duty ? Your apostolate in this case must be both powerful and effective; primarily, in a negative way, by refusing any immoral cooperation; then also in a positive way, by deftly applying yourselves to the removal of preconceived ideas, various fears or faint-hearted excuses; and as far as possible to remove also the external obstacles which may cause distress where the acceptance of motherhood is concerned. You may come forward unhesitatingly where you are asked to advise and help in the bringing forth of new life, to protect it and set it on its way towards its full development. But, unfortunately, in how many cases are you rather called upon to prevent the procreation and preservation of this life, regardless of the precepts of the moral order? To accede to such requests would be to abuse your knowledge and your skill by becoming accessories to an immoral act; it would be the perversion of your apostolate. It demands a calm but unequivocal refusal to countenance the transgression of God’s law or the dictates of your conscience. It follows, therefore, that your profession requires that you should have a clear knowledge of this divine law, so that it may be respected and followed without excess or defect.

THE CHURCH CONDEMNS BIRTH PREVENTION

Our Predecessor, Pius XI, of happy memory, in his Encyclical Casti Connubii, December 31st, 1930, solemnly proclaimed anew the fundamental law governing the marital act and conjugal relations; he said that any attempt on the part of the husband and wife to deprive this act of its inherent force or to impede the procreation of a new life, either in the performance of the act itself, or in the course of the development of its natural consequences, is immoral, and furthermore, no alleged’indication’ or need can convert an intrinsically immoral act into a moral and lawful one.*

This precept is as valid today as it was yesterday, and it will be the same tomorrow and always, because it does not imply a precept of human law but is the expression of a law which is natural and divine.

Let these words be your unfailing guide in all cases where your profession and your apostolate demand of you a clear and unequivocal decision.

DIRECT STERILIZATION IS IMMORAL

It would be more than a mere want of readiness in the service of life if the attempt made by man were to concern not only an individual act but should affect the entire organism itself, with the intention of depriving it, by means of sterilization, of the faculty of procreating a new life. Here, too, you have a clearly established ruling in the Church’s teaching which governs your behaviour both internally and externally. Direct sterilization-that is, the sterilization which aims, either as a means or as an end in itself, to render child-bearing impossible-is a grave violation of the moral law, and therefore unlawful. Even public authority has no right, whatever’indication’ it may use as an excuse, to permit it, and much less to prescribe it or to use it to the detriment of innocent human beings. This principle has already been enunciated in the above mentioned Encyclical of Pius XI on Christian Marriage (pp. 564–565). So

* cf. Acta Apost. Sedis, vol, xxn, 1930, p. 559 et seq. English translation Christian Marriage,. . . . , 9d. therefore, ten years ago, when sterilization came to be more widely used, the Holy See was obliged to make an explicit and solemn declaration that direct sterilization, whether permanent or temporary, of the man or of the woman, is unlawful, and this by virtue of the natural law from which the Church herself, as you well know, has no power to dispense.*

Do all you can, therefore, in your apostolate, to oppose these perverse tendencies, and refuse your co-operation in them.

NATURAL STERILITY OR THE ‘INFERTILE PERIOD’

The further serious problem presents itself today whether and how far the obligation of readiness to fulfil the duty of motherhood can be reconciled with the ever increasing recourse to the periods of natural sterility (the so-called agenesical periods in the woman), a practice which seems to be the clear expression of a will opposed to that readiness.

You are rightly expected to be well informed, from the medical point of view, of this well-known theory and of the progress which can still be foreseen in this matter; and moreover, your advice and help are expected to be based, not on simple, popular publications, but on scientific facts and the authoritative judgment of conscientious specialists in medicine and biology. It is your office, and not that of the priest, to instruct married people, by private consultation or through serious publications, on the medical and biological aspect of the theory, without, however, allowing yourselves to be led into advocating this in a manner which is neither right nor discreet. But in this field, too, your apostolate demands of you as women and as Christians that you know and defend the moral law to which this theory is subordinated. And here the Church is competent to speak.

In the first place, there are two hypotheses to be considered. If the application of this theory means nothing more than that married people use their matrimonial rights even during the time of natural sterility, there is nothing to be said against it; by so doing, they do not in any way prevent or prejudice the consummation of the natural act and its further natural consequences. It is precisely in this that the application of the theory We are discussing is essentially distinct from the abuse of it already mentioned, which consists of a perversion of the act itself. If, however, a further step is made, that is, of restricting the marital act exclusively to that particular period, then the conduct of the married couple must be examined more attentively. Here, again, two alternatives must be considered.

THE MARITAL RIGHT ITSELF

If, even at the time of the marriage, it was the intention of the man or woman to restrict the marital right itself to the periods of sterility and not merely the use of that right, in such a way that the other partner would not even have the right to demand the act at any other time, that would imply an essential defect in the matrimonial consent. This would invalidate the marriage itself, because the right deriving from the marriage contract is a permanent right, uninterrupted and continuous, of each of the partners in respect of the other.

THE USE OF THE MARITAL RIGHT

If, on the other hand, the limitation of the act to the times of natural sterility refers not to the right itself but only to the use of the right, there is then no question of the validity of the marriage. Nevertheless, the moral lawfulness of such conduct would be affirmed or denied according as to whether or not the intention to keep constantly to these periods is based on sufficient and reliable moral grounds. The sole fact that the couple do not offend against the nature of the act and that they are willing to accept and bring up the child that is born notwithstanding the precautions they have taken, would not of itself alone be a sufficient guarantee of a right intention and of the unquestionable morality of the motives themselves.

THE PRIMARY DUTY

The reason is that marriage binds to a state of life which, while conferring certain rights, at the same time imposes the accomplishment of a positive work which belongs to the very state of wedlock. This being so, the general principle * Decree of the Holy Office, February 22nd, 1940; Acta Apost. Sedis, 1940, p. 73. can now be stated that the fulfilment of a positive duty may be withheld should grave reasons, independent of the good will of those obliged to it, show that such fulfilment is untimely, or make it evident that it cannot equitably be demanded by that which requires the fulfilment-in this case, the human race.

The marriage contract, which gives the spouses the right to satisfy the inclinations of nature, established them in a state of life, the married state. Nature and Creator impose upon the married couple who use that state by carrying out its specific act, the duty of providing for the conservation of the human race. Herein we have the characteristic service which gives their state its peculiar value-the good of the offspring. Both the individual and society, the people and the State, and the Church herself, depend for their existence on the order which God has established on fruitful marriage. Hence, to embrace the married state, to make frequent use of the faculty proper to it and lawful only in that state, while on the other hand, always and deliberately to seek to evade its primary duty without serious reasons, would be to sin against the very meaning of married life.

REASONS THAT MAY EXEMPT

Serious reasons, often put forward on medical, eugenic, economic and social grounds, can exempt from that obligatory service even for a considerable period of time, even for the entire duration of the marriage. It follows from this that the use of the infertile periods can be lawful from the moral point of view and, in the circumstances which have been mentioned, it is indeed lawful. If, however, in the light of a reasonable and fair judgment, there are no such serious personal reasons, or reasons deriving from external circumstances, then the habitual intention to avoid the fruitfulness of the union, while at the same time continuing fully to satisfy sensual intent, can only arise from a false appreciation of life and from motives that run counter to true standards of moral conduct.

Here you will perhaps urge a point, and say that sometimes, whilst engaged in your profession, you find yourselves face to face with very delicate cases, namely, those in which to run the risk of motherhood cannot be demanded, nay, where motherhood must be absolutely avoided, and where on the other hand the use of sterile periods either does not afford a sufficient safeguard, or where, for other reasons, it must be discarded. And so, you ask, how it is still possible to speak of an apostolate in the service of motherhood?

GOD ‘S LAW MAY REQUIRE COMPLETE ABSTENTION

If, in your sure and experienced judgment, the circumstances definitely demand a’No,’ that is to say, that motherhood is unthinkable, it would be a mistake and wrong to prescribe a’Yes.’ Here it is a question of concrete facts, and therefore a medical, not a theological question, and so it is within your competence. However, in such cases, the married couple do not ask you for a medical answer, an answer which must necessarily be negative; they seek rather your approval of a’technique’ of marital relationship that is proof against the risk of motherhood. So, here again, you are called upon to exercise your apostolate, in as much as you leave no doubt that, even in extreme cases, every preventive practice and every direct attack on the life and development of the seed is forbidden and banned in conscience, and that there is only one thing to do, and that is, to abstain from any complete use of the natural faculty. In this matter your apostolate demands clear and certain judgment and a calm firmness.

It will be objected, however, that such abstinence is impossible, that heroism such as this is not feasible. At the present time you can hear and read of this objection everywhere, even from those who, because of their duty and authority, should be of quite a different mind. The following argument is brought forward as proof: No one is obliged to do the impossible and no reasonable legislator is presumed to wish by his law to bind persons to do the impossible. But for married people to abstain for a long time is impossible. Therefore they are not bound to abstain: divine law cannot mean that.

GOD ‘S HELP IS A REALITY TO THOSE WHO WANT IT

In such manner of argument a false conclusion is reached from premises which are only partially true. To be convinced of this, one has simply to reverse the terms of the argument: God does not oblige us to do the impossible. But God obliges married people to abstain if their union cannot be accomplished according to the rules of nature. Therefore, in such cases, abstinence is possible. In confirmation of this argument, we have the doctrine of the Council of Trent which, in the chapter on the necessary and possible observance of the Commandments, referring to a passage in the works of Augustine, teaches:’God does not command what is impossible, but when He commands, He commands, He warns you to do what you can and to ask His aid for what is beyond your powers, and He gives His help to make that possible for you.’*

Do not be disturbed when, in the practice of your profession and in your apostolate, you hear this clamour about impossibility. Do not let it cloud your internal judgment, nor affect your exterior conduct. Never lend yourselves to anything whatsoever which is opposed to the law of God and your Christian conscience. To judge men and women of today incapable of continuous heroism is to do them wrong. In these days, for many reasons-perhaps through dire necessity, or even at times under pressure of injustice-heroism is being practised to a degree and extent that in times past would have been thought impossible. Why then, if circumstances demand it, should this heroism stop at the limits prescribed by passion and the inclinations of nature? It is obvious that he who does not want to master himself, will not be able to do so; and he who thinks he can master himself, relying solely on his own powers and not sincerely and perseveringly seeking divine aid, will be miserably deceived.

Here, then, you see how your apostolate can win married people over to a service of motherhood, that is, not one of utter servitude to the promptings of nature, but to the exercise of marital rights and duties, governed by the principles of reason and faith.

IV: FINALLY, THERE IS AN ASPECT OF YOUR APOSTOLATE THAT CONCERNS THE DEFENCE OF THE RIGHT ORDER OF VALUES AND THE DIGNITY OF THE HUMAN PERSON

A WRONG PRINCIPLE

‘Personal values’ and the need to respect them, is a subject that for the past twenty years has kept writers busily employed. In many of their elaborate works, the specifically sexual act, too, has a position allotted to it in the service of the person in the married state. The peculiar and deeper meaning of the exercise of the marital right should consist in this (they say) that the bodily union is the expression and actuation of the personal and affective union.

Articles, pamphlets, books and lectures, dealing in particular even with the ‘technique of love,’ have served to spread these ideas and to illustrate them with warnings to the newly-wed as a guide to marriage that will prevent them neglecting, through foolishness, misplaced modesty, or unfounded scrupulosity, what God, who is Creator also of their natural inclinations, offers to them. If a new life results from this complete reciprocal gift of the husband and wife, it is a consequence that remains outside or, at the most, at the circumference, so to say, of the’personal values’: a consequence that is not excluded, but is not to be considered as a focal point of marital relations.

According to these theories, the dedication of yourselves to the welfare of the life still hidden in the mother ‘s womb, or to helping the mother to be happily delivered, would be of only minor importance and would take secondary place.

Now, if this relative appreciation merely emphasized the value of the persons of the married couple rather than that of the offspring, such a problem could, strictly speaking, be disregarded. But here there is a question of a serious inversion of the order of values and of purposes which the Creator Himself has established. We are face to face with the propagation of a body of ideas and sentiments directly opposed to serene, deep and serious christian thought. Here again your apostolate must play its part. You may become the confidantes of the mother and wife and be asked questions about the most secret desires and intimate acts of married life. If so, how could you, aware as you are of your mission, make truth and right order prevail in the judgment and relationship of the married couple, unless you yourselves have precise knowledge and a firmness of character necessary to maintain what you know to be true and righteous ?

THE RIGHT PRINCIPLE

The truth is that marriage, as a natural institution, is not ordered by the will of the Creator towards personal perfection of the husband and wife as its primary end, but to the procreation and education of a new life. The other * Conc. Trid., sess. 6, ch. xi, Denzinger n. 804-St August. De natura et gratia, ch. 43, no. 50; IViigne P.L. vol. 44, col. 271. ends of marriage, although part of nature ‘s plan, are not of the same importance as the first. Still less are they superior. On the contrary they are essentially subordinate to it. This principle holds good for all marriages, even if they are unfruitful: just as it can be said that all eyes are intended and constructed to see, even though in abnormal cases, because of particular internal or external conditions, they can never be capable of giving sight.

It was precisely for the purpose of putting an end to all uncertainty and wanderings away from the truth, which were threatening to spread mistaken ideas about the order of precedence in the purpose of marriage and the relationship between them, that We ourselves, some years ago (10th March, 1944), drew up a statement placing them in their right order. We called attention to what the very internal structure of their natural disposition discloses, to what is the heritage of christian tradition, to what the Sovereign Pontiffs have repeatedly taught, and to what was afterwards definitely stated in the Code of Canon Law (Can. 1013, par. 1). Furthermore, a little while afterwards, to put an end to conflicting opinions, the Holy See, by a public Decree, proclaimed that the appeal of certain modern writers who deny that the procreation and education of the child is the primary end of marriage, or teach that the secondary ends are not essentially subordinate to the primary end, but rather are of equal value and are independent of it, cannot be admitted.*

THE TRUTH ABOUT PERSONAL VALUES

Does that mean a denial or a diminishing of what is good and right in the personal values which result from marriage and from the marriage act ? Certainly not, because in marriage the Creator has destined human beings, made of flesh and blood and endowed with a mind and a heart, for the procreation of new life, and they are called to be the parents of their progeny as human beings and not irrational animals. It is to this end that God wills the union of married people. Indeed Holy Writ says of God that He created human kind to His image, created them male and female (Gen. 1: 27), and willed-as we find repeatedly stated in the Holy Bible-that a man’shall leave father and mother, and shall cleave to his wife, and they shall be two in one flesh’ (Gen. 2:24; Matt. 19:5; Eph. 5:31).

All this is therefore true and willed by God; but it must not be disjoined from the primary function of marriage, that is, from the duty to the new life. Not only the exterior common life, but also all the personal wealth, the qualities of mind and spirit, and finally all that there is more truly spiritual and profound in married love as such, has been placed by the will of nature and the Creator at the service of the offspring. Of its nature, perfect married life means also the complete self-sacrifice of the parents on behalf of their children, and love of husband and wife in its strength and tenderness is an essential need for the most earnest care for the child and the guarantee that this care will be taken.**

ARTIFICIAL INSEMINATION

To consider unworthily the cohabitation of husband and wife, and the marital act as a simple organic function for the transmission of seed, would be the same as to convert the domestic hearth, which is the family sanctuary, into a mere biological laboratory. For this reason, in Our Address of September 29th, 1949, made to the International Congress of Catholic Doctors, We formally rejected artificial insemination in marriage. The marital act, in its natural setting, is a personal action. It is the simultaneous and direct co-operation of husband and wife which, by the very nature of the agents and the inherent quality of the act, is the expression of the mutual giving which, in the words of Scripture, results in the union’in one flesh.’

This is much more than the union of two life-germs, which can be brought about even artificially, that is, without the co-operation of the husband and wife. The marital act, in the order of, and by nature’s design, consists of a personal cooperation which the husband and wife exchange as a right when they marry.

When, therefore, this interchange of rights is, from the beginning, permanently impossible in its natural form, the object of the marriage contract is essentially vitiated. And as We have already stated,’We must never forget this: only when it is carried out according to the will and plan of the Creator does the act of procreating a new life truly achieve, and in so wonderfully perfect a way, the ends sought by it. For then at one and the same time it is true to and satisfies the physical and spiritual nature of man and wife, their dignity as persons, and the normal and happy development of the child.’***

*S.C.S. Off., 1st April, 1944-Acta Apost. Sedis, vol. xxxvi, 1944, p. 103.

**cf. St Thom. 3.p. q.29a. 2 in c; Suppl. q.49a. 2 ad I. *** Acta Apost. Sedis, Vol xli, 1949, p. 560

It follows that it is for you to tell the fiancée or the young wife who comes to discuss with you the values of married life, that these personal values relating to the body, sense or spirit, are really good and true, but that the Creator has put them in the second place in the scale of values, and not in the first.

THE DIGNITY OF VIRGINITY

There is a further consideration which can easily be forgotten. All these secondary values, in regard to generation and its processes, are part of the specific duty of husband and wife, namely, to be the parents and educators of the new living being. A high and noble duty! It does not, however, belong to the essence of a complete human being, as though a human being who did not use the generative faculty would suffer some loss of dignity. To renounce the use of that power does not mean any mutilation of personal and spiritual values, especially if a person refrains from the highest motives. Of such a free renunciation made for the sake of the kingdom of God, the Creator has said:’Non omnes cabiunt verbum istud, sed quibis datum est-All men take not this word but they to whom it is given’ (Matt. 19: 11).

It is therefore a mistake and a departure from the way of moral truth to exalt too highly the generative function even in its right moral setting of married life. This often happens today. Again, it brings the risk of an error of understanding and of misguided affection which hinders and stifles good and noble feelings, especially with young people who have as yet had no experience and are unaware of life’s snares. After all, what normal person, healthy in mind and body, would want to belong to the number of those lacking character and spirit?

Do you, however, by your apostolate, wherever you work professionally, enlighten people’s minds and instil into them this right order of values, so that men may regulate their judgment and their conduct by it.

CONJUGAL JOY IS GOD ‘S GIFT TO THE MARRIED

Our explanation of the apostolic work of your profession would, however, be incomplete were We not to add a few words more on the defence of human dignity in the use of the generative inclination. The Creator in His goodness and wisdom has willed to make use of the work of the man and woman to preserve and propagate the human race, by joining them in wedlock.

The same Creator has arranged that the husband and wife find pleasure and happiness of mind and body in the performance of that function. Consequently, the husband and wife do no wrong in seeking out and enjoying this pleasure. They are accepting what the Creator intended for them.

Still, here too, the husband and wife ought to know how to keep within the bounds of moderation. As in eating and drinking, they ought not to give themselves over completely to the promptings of their senses, so neither ought they to subject themselves unrestrainedly to their sensual appetite. This, therefore, is the rule to be followed; the use of the natural, generative instinct and function is lawful in the married state only, and in the services of the purposes for which marriage exists. It follows from this that, only in the married state and in the observance of these laws, are the desires and enjoyment of that pleasure and satisfaction allowed; because pleasure is subject to the law of action from which it springs, and not vice-versa-action made subject to the law of enjoyment of pleasure. And this law, so reasonable, looks not only to the substance but to the circumstances of the action; so that, while the substance of the function is still preserved, sin can be committed by the way it is carried out.

HUMAN DIGNITY THRIVES ON MUTUAL RESPECT

The transgression of this law is as old as original sin. However, at the present time, there is a danger of losing sight of this fundamental principle. Today, in fact, it is customary in speaking and in writing (even among some Catholics) to uphold the necessity of personal freedom, the peculiar purpose and value of sexual relationship and its use, independently of the purpose of the procreation of offspring. They would like to submit the order established by God to fresh examination and to a new regulation. They would like no other check in the manner of satisfying this instinct than the observance of what is essential to the instinctive act. For the moral obligation to master our passions, they would substitute freedom to make use of the whims and inclinations of nature blindly and without restraint. This must sooner or later result in harm to morality, to conscience, and to human dignity.

If the exclusive aim of nature, or at least its primary aim, had been the mutual giving and possessing of husband and wife in joy and delight; if nature had arranged that act only to make their personal experience happy in the highest possible degree, and not as an incentive in the service of life, then the Creator would have made use of another plan in the formation and constitution of the natural act. Instead, the act is completely subordinate and ordered to the great and unique law,’generatio et educatio prolis’ (the generating and educating of children), that is, to the fulfilment of the primary end of marriage as the origin and source of life.

Unfortunately, waves of hedonism never cease to roll over the world. They are threatening to overwhelm the whole of married life in a rising sea of ideas, desires and acts, not without grave danger and to the serious prejudice of the primary duty of husband and wife.

Too often people are not ashamed of exalting this antichristian hedonism as though it were a doctrine, by inculcating the desire to make the pleasure in the preparation and the act of conjugal union ever more intense; as if the whole moral law governing marital relations consisted of the proper fulfilment of this act-as if everything else, no matter how carried out, finds its justification in the profuse expression of mutual affection, hallowed by the sacrament of matrimony and worthy of praise and reward before God and the conscience of man. All question of man’s dignity and of his dignity as a Christian, both of which are a restraint on sensual excess, are set aside.

That is false. The seriousness and holiness of the christian moral law do not permit the unrestrained satisfying of the sexual instinct, nor such seeking merely for pleasure and enjoyment. It does not allow rational man to let himself be so dominated either by the substance or the circumstances of the act.

Some would like to maintain that happiness in married life is in direct ratio to the mutual enjoyment of marital relations. This is not so. On the contrary, happiness in married life is in direct ratio to the respect the husband and wife have for each other, even in the intimate act of marriage. Not that they should regard what nature offers them and God has given them as immoral, and refuse it, but because the respect and mutual esteem which arise from it, are one of the strongest elements of a love which is all the more pure because it is the more tender.

DEFEND THE HONOUR OF CHRISTIAN MARRIAGE

Whilst performing the duties of your profession, do your utmost to repel the attack of this refined hedonism, which is spiritually an empty thing and therefore unworthy of christian spouses. Make it clear that nature has undoubtedly given the instinctive desire for pleasure and sanctioned it in lawful wedlock, not as an end in itself, but in the service of life. Banish from your hearts this cult of pleasure, and do your best to stop the spreading of literature which considers it a duty to describe the intimacies of married life under the pretext of giving instruction, guidance and reassurance. In general, common sense, natural instinct, and a short instruction on the clear and simple maxims of the christian moral law will suffice to give peace to husband and wife of tender conscience. If, in certain special circumstances, a fiancee or young married woman has need of further enlightenment on some particular point, it is your duty prudently and tactfully to give them an explanation which is in agreement with the natural law and a healthy christian conscience.

Our teaching has nothing to do with Manicheism or with Jansenism, as some would like to make out in selfjustification. It is simply a defence of the honour of christian marriage and the personal dignity of husband and wife.

To give your services for such a purpose, is a pressing duty of your calling, especially in these days.

So we conclude what We had in mind to explain to you.

Your profession offers you a vast and varied apostolate, an apostolate not so much of word as of action and guidance; an apostolate that you will be able to exercise usefully only if you are well-informed, in advance, of the object of your mission and of the means to its fulfilment, and, moreover, if you are gifted with a will strong in resolve that is rooted in a deep religious conviction, inspired and enriched by your faith and by christian charity.

Whilst We implore for you the powerful help of divine light and strength, now as a pledge and earnest of a generous bounty of heavenly graces, We bestow on you from Our heart, Our Apostolic Blessing.

Rome, 29th October, 1951

NELL ‘ORDINE DELLA NA TURA

ADDRESS TO THE ASSOCIATION KNOWN AS THE’FAMILY CAMPAIGN’ AND OTHER FAMILY ASSOCIATIONS

THE CHURCH ‘S CONCERN FOR THE FAMILY

IN THE NATURAL ORDER, among social institutions, there is none which the Church has closer to her heart than the family. Marriage, which is its root, was raised by Christ to the dignity of a sacrament. The family itself has always found and will always find in the Church its defence, protection and support in all that concerns its inviolable rights, its freedom and the exercise of its lofty function

DANGERS THREATENING THE FAMILY

We have frequently and on various occasions spoken in favour of the christian family, in most cases either to help it or to call upon others to help save it from the gravest hardships; above all, to assist it in the calamitous time of war. The damages caused by the first world war were far from having been fully repaired when the second even more terrible conflagration came to increase them. Much time will be needed yet, and much toil with much more divine aid, before the deep wounds inflicted on the family by two wars can begin to heal as they should. Another evil, partly due to these devastating conflicts, but also a consequence of over-population and of various unsuitable or selfish tendencies, is the housing crisis. All those who endeavour to remedy this evil, be they legislators, statesmen or social workers, perform, even if only in an indirect way, an apostolate of surpassing worth. The same holds in the struggle with the scourge of unemployment, and in providing for a sufficient family wage, so that the mother will not be obliged-as too often happens-to seek employment outside the home, but may be able to dedicate herself more to her husband and her children. To strive on behalf of the school and religious education, this, again, is a precious contribution to the welfare of the family, as also are the fostering therein of a healthy naturalness and simplicity of conduct, the strengthening of religious convictions, the encouragement of an atmosphere of Christian purity, which will free it from harmful outside influences and from all morbid excitement which give rise to unruly passions in the minds of youth.

But there is also a deeper misery from which the family must be preserved, namely, the degrading bondage to which it is reduced by that attitude that tends to make of it a mere organism at the service of the social community for the purpose of procreating for that community a sufficient mass of’human material.’

There is, however, another danger which has been threatening the family, not merely since yesterday, but for a long time, and which, should it continue in its present increase, could become fatal to the family because it attacks it in its very roots: We refer to the subversion of conjugal morality in its widest sense.

During these latter years We have taken every opportunity of expounding one or other of the essential points of that moral doctrine, and more recently to treat of it as a whole, not only refuting the errors which corrupt it, but also giving a positive demonstration of its meaning and”purpose, of its importance and value for the happiness of husband and wife as well as of the children and the entire family, and for the stability and the greater good of the entire social structure reaching upwards from the home to the State and to the Church.

INNOCENT HUMAN LIFE IS INVIOLABLE

At the very hub of that teaching, marriage appears as an institution at the service of life. In close connection with this principle, We have illustrated, following the constant teaching of the Church, a thesis which is one of the essential foundations not only of conjugal morality, but of social morality in general: namely, that any direct attempt on an innocent human life as a means to an end-in this case to the end of saving another life-is unlawful.

Innocent human life, in whatsoever condition it is found, is withdrawn, from the very first moment of its existence, from any direct deliberate attack. This is a fundamental right of the human person, which is of universal value in the christian conception of life; hence as valid for the life still hidden within the womb of the mother, as for the life already born and developing independently of her; as much opposed to direct abortion as to the direct killing of the child before, during, or after its birth. Whatever foundation there may be for the distinction between these various phases of the development of life born or still unborn, in profane and ecclesiastical law, and in certain civil and penal consequences, all these cases involve a grave and unlawful attack upon the inviolability of human life.

THE CHILD OR THE MOTHER -A FALSE ALTERNATIVE

This principle holds good both for the life of the child as well as for that of the mother. Never and in no case has the Church taught that the life of the child must be preferred to that of the mother. It is erroneous to put the question with this alternative: either the life of the child or that of the mother. No, neither the life of the mother nor that of the child can be subjected to an act of direct suppression. In the one case as in the other, there can be but one obligation: to make every effort to save the lives of both, of the mother and of the child.*

It is one of the finest and most noble aspirations of the medical profession to search continually for new means of ensuring the life of both mother and child. But if, notwithstanding all the progress of science, there still remain, and will remain in the future, cases in which one must reckon with the death of the mother, when it is the mother’s wish to bring to birth the life that is within her, and not to destroy it in violation of the command of God: Thou shalt not kill!-nothing else remains for the man, who will make every effort till the very last moment to help and save, but to bow respectfully before the laws of nature and the dispositions of Divine Providence.

WHICH LIFE IS OF MORE VALUE?

But-it is objected-the life of the mother, especially the mother of a large family, is of incomparably greater value than that of a child not yet born. The application of the theory of the equivalation of values to the case which occupies Us has already been accepted in juridical discussions. The reply to this harrowing objection is not difficult. The inviolability of the life of an innocent human being does not depend on its greater or lesser value. It is already more than ten years since the Church formally condemned the destruction of life considered to be’without value’; and whosoever knows the sad events that preceded and provoked that condemnation, whosoever is able to weigh the direct consequences that would result, from measuring the inviolability of innocent life according to its value, can well appreciate the motives that determined that condemnation.

Besides, who can judge with certainty which of the two lives is in fact the more precious? Who can know what path that child will follow and to what heights of achievement and perfection he may reach? Two greatnesses are being compared here, one of them being an unknown quantity.

MORAL AND IMMORAL OPERATIONS

In this regard We wish to cite an example which may perhaps be already known to some of you but which, notwithstanding that fact, loses none of its suggestiveness. It goes back to the year 1905. At that time there was a young lady of noble birth and of still nobler sentiments, but who was frail and of delicate constitution. As a young girl she had been ill with a slight apical pleurisy, which seemed cured; when, however, after a happy marriage, she felt a new life springing in her womb, she soon became aware of a peculiar physical indisposition, which alarmed two able doctors who were attending her with every care and solicitude. The old apical trouble, the cicatrized lesion had become active again; in their opinion there was no time to lose; if the gentle lady was to be saved, a therapeutic abortion would have to be provoked without the least delay. The husband also realized the gravity of the case and gave his consent to the distressful operation. But when the midwife in attendance duly made known the decision of the doctors and brought her to defer to their opinion, she replied with firm voice:’I thank you for your merciful advice; but I cannot suppress the life of my child! I cannot, I cannot! I feel it already throbbing in my womb; it has the right to live; it comes from God and should know God so as to love and enjoy Him.’ Her husband also entreated, begged and implored her; she remained unyielding and quietly awaited the event. A baby girl was regularly born; but, immediately after, the health of the mother began to get worse. The pulmonary lesion spread; the condition worsened. Two months later she was at the end of her strength; she once again saw her little child, who was growing healthily under the care of a robust nurse; her lips broke into a sweet smile, and she died peacefully. Many years went by. In a religious Institute a young Sister

* cf. Pius XI, Encycl.’Casti Connubii,’ 31 Dec., 1930-Acts Apost. Sedis, vol. xxii, pp. 562–563. might be particularly noticed, totally dedicated to the care and education of abandoned children, bending over sick children with motherly love, as if to give them life. It was she, the daughter of the sacrifice, who now with her generous heart was doing so much good among abandoned children. The heroism of her fearless mother had not been in vain!* But We ask-Is it possible that christian feeling, even also purely human feeling, has been dulled to the point that it cannot any longer appreciate the sublime holocaust of the mother and the visible hand of Divine Providence, which brought forth such splendid fruit from that holocaust?

Deliberately We have always used the expression ‘direct attempt on the life of an innocent person,’ ‘direct killing’; because if, for example, the saving of the life of the future mother, independently of her pregnant condition, should urgently require a surgical act or other therapeutic treatment which would have as an accessory consequence, in no way desired nor intended, but inevitable, the death of the foetus, such an act could no longer be called a direct attempt on an innocent life. Under these conditions the operation can be lawful, like other similar medical interventions, granted always that a good of high worth is concerned, such as life, and that it is not possible to postpone the operation until after the birth of the child, nor to have recourse to other efficacious remedies.

A LAWFUL METHOD OF REGULATION OF BIRTH

Since, too, the primary function of matrimony is to be at the service of life, the expression of Our chief satisfaction and of Our fatherly gratitude goes to those generous mothers and fathers who, for love of God and with trust in Him, courageously raise a large family.

On the other hand, the Church knows how to consider with sympathy and understanding the real difficulties oaf the married state in our day. Therefore, in Our last Allocution on conjugal morality, We affirmed the lawfulness and at the same time the limits-in truth very wide-of a regulation of offspring, which, unlike so-called’birth-control,’ is compatible with the law of God. One may even hope (yet in this matter the Church naturally leaves the judgment to medical science) that science will succeed in providing this lawful method with a sufficiently secure basis. The most recent information seems to confirm such a hope.

STRENGTH AND COURAGE FROM FAITH AND THE SACRAMENTS

For the rest, to overcome the manifold trials of married life, 16 what is of the greatest worth is a living faith and a frequent reception of the sacraments, whence pour forth torrents of strength, of whose efficacy those living outside the Church cannot easily form a clear idea. And with this call to supernatural aid, We desire to conclude Our Address. It may be, beloved sons and daughters, that one day it will fall to you to find your courage wavering under the violence of the storm which doctrines subversive of a healthy and normal conception of christian marriage unleash around you and even more dangerously in the bosom of the family. Have confidence! The workings of nature, and especially the strength of grace with which Our Lord has enriched your souls in the sacrament of matrimony, are as a firm rock, against which the waves of a storm-tossed sea break in vain. And if the tragedies of the war and the aftermath of war have inflicted on marriage and the family wounds that are still bleeding, nevertheless, in these years the constant faith and firm perseverance of married couples, and the mother’s love, ever ready for untold sacrifices, have, in cases without number, won true and splendid triumphs.

Carry on your work, therefore, with vigour, confident in divine aid, in pledge of which We impart from Our heart to you and to your families Our fatherly Apostolic Blessing.

Rome, 26th November, 1951

*cf. Andrea Majocchi. Tra bistori a forbici, 1940, p. 21, et seq.

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Marriage For Keeps

ED WILLOCK

INDEX

There’s a difference between being married and being an expert on marriage. There’s a difference between having a group of letters after your name and a group of children at your heels. I’m married, with a group of children. I’m not an expert with a Ph.D. Consequently, in writing about marriage I’ll not approach it as a subject, but as an experience.

Along with that explanation of the perspective I intend to take, I should add that I am no past-master. My children are not grown up, they are babies and theoldest is eight. We don’t know what it would be like to be without an infant in the house. My writing room is not an ivory tower but a kitchen table.

So, there you are. When I speak about children, I’m talk ing about Mike, Paul, Elizabeth, Ann, Marie, Peter and Clare. Mike breaks windows and says prayers very well. Paul is always smiling, even while he’s letting the air out of our neighbor’s tyres. Ann has the most beautiful eyes for an eight-year-old I have ever seen, but the school examiner tells us she needs glasses. Marie is as shy and as curious as a kitten. She has cheeks like an apple and an appetite like a truck driver. Peter’s just beginning to walk and he looks like Dopey the Dwarf. Clare is the centre of attention in her bassinet. Tack their pictures on a wall against a background of nappies, milk bills, broken toys, worn-out shoes, outgrown overalls, jamstained doorknobs, broken glass and complaints from the neighbours, and you begin to see marriage as I see it.

But that’s only part of the pictu re. To see the rest, you must see Elizabeth preparing for her bath in the evening; two feet tall and as formidable as Gibraltar. Just to look at her cherubic countenance after we have flushed off a few inches of topsoil subtracted from the back yard, gives a father a feeling of security. Her smile removes any doubt you might have about the bountiful providence of God. And the evening prayers (in spite of the fact that Ann shows off her facility with words and Elizabeth falls asleep) binds every thread of the day together into a pattern of marriage that is convincing. It’s here to stay and it’s for keeps. It’s a way to spend a life. It’s a way to God that’s heaven all along the route.

That will give you an idea of the way I tackle marriage, but I’m not speaking only for myself. I didn’t invent marriage. It has been with us a long time. I see my family as one unit among millions of families. I see it as a long chain of wedding rings extending back through generations, and this tradition goes back to a table at which Christ sat. There was a wedding banquet and the wine ran out. He changed the water into wine. By His presence there, His act of divine generosity and His sanctification of marriage, He has made the water of marriage into sacramental wine.

ADVENTURE WITH CHRIST

Christian marriage is like nothing else, least of all like that caricature of marriage-the typical modern thing (which is a kind of legal cohabitation). It isn’t a love song sung with “a girl for you and a boy for me but heaven help us fromhaving three.” It isn’t two people making the best of an uncomfortable situation. It is an adventure with Christ.

THE PRE-MARITAL JITTERS

Along about the last month before the knot is tied, the average fellow begins to bite his finger nails. The girl has taken over and she’s in a sweet swoon about the details. The fellow finds himself in a rapidly moving caravan, dashing by jewelry counters, clothes dummys, flats-to-rent ads, consultation of the bank book, furniture stores, draperies, best man, bridesmaid, and all the little details that the girl sees with uncanny intuition. Looming before him is one thing, MARRIED LIFE. It’s a big thing! What will it be like? Never mind about details, look at this big, strange unknown!

Most fellows go through that and so did I. With some very tidy arithmetic I had concluded that we could live as cheaply as one and a half. I had a steady job, as jobs go. We could afford my staying away from work a week, have an inexpensive honeymoon, and then get by on bread and wa ter until the first payday. Of course, we could have grown old apart, instead of together, as so many couples do, waiting until we could afford it.”Not for us” said we, and it was clinched!

Marriage was a few weeks away. We hadn’t found a place to live. Dorothy lived in one town and I in another. We had decided to set up house in my town. But, as I say, flats (at the rent we could afford) were scarce.

The day I’m describing had been pretty rough. I operated a machine in a small plant. That day, the machine was balky and the stock was bad. I fretted and fumed, my feet itching to be pounding around town, looking for a flat. This one, gnawing desire being frustrated, discolored my entire picture of the future. I went home on the subway in a blue funk. My mother detected the mood as I played golf with my peas at the supper table. So I put it up to her.”Listen, Mum, we’ve got plenty of room here. Why can’t Dot and I move in here after we’re married and then we can take our time looking for a flat.”

I should have known better! My mother was always a lady for calling a spade a spade (and still is, for that matter). I wouldn’t have missed it for the world! Her exact words I don’t remember, but they went something like this:

MUM’S SERMON

“Listen here, Sonny. I prepared you for Baptism about twenty-three years ago. I nursed you, bundled you up and put your booties on. After that, when you were seven, I tucked in your shirt and brushed down your cowlick when you went to receive your First Communion. At Confirmation you were twelve, and still helpless. I fixed your necktie, tucked in your shirt and sent you off. But (and here she laid it on) if you think for one minute that Mama is going to lead you down the aisle for matrimony and home again, you don’t know your mother! Matrimony is for men and women, not for children. If you can’t handle this problem on your own, probably the simplest problem you’ll ever face as a couple, then you may be old enough to marry, but you’re not a man!”

In retrospect, her speech added up to this:

A family needs a head and God designed the man for that role. By nature, the man is aggressive and independent. He works best in the open, free, with liberty to make choices of direction. The woman, on the other hand, achieves her freedom within limits. No matter how valiant she may be, she likes the role of a help-mate to a man of whom she is proud. (A simple little picture that illustrates this point is the fact that in the outdoors, on the plains, in the woods, or behind a plow, a man who is a man, is at home. In such a picture, the woman is dwarfed beside him. As a matter of fact, any woman who does look at home in the great outdoors isn’t very feminine. She’s likely to have a rasping voice and a horsey look. Just move the couple into a living room and the woman grows in stature. The enclosure reflects her importance.)

Men in our time have not been taking this headship. God forbid that we should return to the tyranny of the Bible-thumping patriarch, but the pendulum is now way over in the other direction. All around us we have seen the way in which men have allowed the brutality of masculine affairs to invade and desecrate the personal environs which the women hold dear.

Wars, the work of men, have ripped the families and slain the children. The economic processes designed by men have depersonalized the worker, prescribed the number of children and turned men into irresponsible paychecks. The neuroses which characterize our times are the result of this assault upon the heart and sensibilities of society. The women, because of their capacity for generous compassion and the sensitivity that such warm-heartedness engenders, have borne the brunt of this injustice. The intimate personal concern whichit is a woman’s glory to give, has been disregarded in the masculine madness of money-making, empire-building and forensic debate.

WOMEN PREFER MARRIAGE

Because of that, women have difficulty trusting the modern man. Most women still prefer marriage, and they would choose marriage if men assured them a dignified and devoted leadership.

Where this lesson particularly applied in my case and in the case of so many fellows today is that we tend to reflect rather than remove the woman’s fear of insecurity. Instead of providing a shoulder to be wept upon, too many men go to their mothers, girl friends or wives, looking for a hankie. Yes, a man can be gentle, but he can be a gentle-man. He can softly but firmly lead the way out of difficulties, not capitulate to the fears for the future.

It will always be true in marriage that the greatest giving will be on the part of the wife. Through pregnancy and child raising, she loses the independence which the man continues to retain. If today the woman is reluctant to do this, it is because she does not trust the man to be loving, confident and considerate when she must of necessity depend solely on him. We confirm this mistrust whenever we hesitate. A good woman is happy to go through torture for her husband as long as his step is firm, his love tender and his faith strong.

When my mother concluded her sermon, I still wasn’t convinced. I know better now, but it takes time to grow up. I just grouched away from the table and sat in the parlor glowering at the design in the carpet. The doorbell rang and my mother passed me a telegram. That telegram gave me the deepest, most gratifying bellylaugh that I have ever had. It isn’t easy to explain why it tickled me so much or why I still regard it as one of the most provident lessons that God taught me about marriage. All it said was that it was from Dorothy and would I mind changing the date of the wedding because her Aunt Sarah, who lived in Washington, had sprained her leg and would not be able to get there as early as we had hoped.

To get the picture you’ve got to realize that I was looking at that wedding date with the same awful expectancy of a condemned prisoner marking off his calendar. Then along comes my beloved and kicks that awe-inspiring date into a cocked hat simply because Aunt Sarah had sprained her leg! The scales suddenly fell from my eyes and I discovered with a gasp of joy that a woman always has her lovely finger on somebody’s pulse, and that pulse means more to her than anything, especially more than a paltry wedding date.

Take the man who is directing the setting in place of the central span of a bridge. He gets a call from the construction shack. It’s his wife on the phone. “I’m sorry to bother you, dear, but would you mind dropping in to the shop on the way home and getting some yellow paper napkins? It’s uncle George’s birthday and the frosting on the cake is yellow, and all I have in the house are red ones.”

You see, the subtle point of the thing is that the man considers these things petty-that is, unless he is the one about whom the fuss is being made. You will never really appreciate a woman unless you have seen her at the end of a day of moving into a new flat, the furniture in disarray, the children bedded in make-shift bunks, quietly putting up the nicely ironed curtains. The mere male dwindles in stature as the woman unobtrusively proves that the dignity of the human soul transcends time and circumstance. It is no wonder that God entrusted His Divine Son as a gentle Babe to the warm, confident love of a valiant woman.

CONSIDERATION AND ACQUIESCENCE

A fellow and girl have to be equipped with a great deal more than mutual infatuation if they hope to survive the difficulties of marriage. During the course of married life I have picked up a working set of principles that help to make for compatibility between the sexes.

To begin with, it is not an easy thing for a man and woman to get along together. I stress this point especially for young lovers who have not yet had a real spat. If there comes a time or occasion when you would be delighted to subject your mate to some form of mayhem, do not consider yourself peculiar. Resist the urge to inflict injury, by all means, but do not for a moment conclude that your marriage is shattered or that love has fled. Saint Paul said that marriage is a great mystery. Every husband and wife has learned that it is a mystery for which there is no solution except love.

The family relationship is a dynamic one. By that I mean that it is a living, moving, maturing relationship. It is not static. It is not the relation between a nut and a bolt, or between a set of gears. The man and woman must become one flesh. Their two lives must fuse together and yet remain vital. The man is not consumed by the woman, nor is she consumed by the man. They must be joined together with-out any loss of personality. In fact, when a marriage is successful, the personality of both husband and wife becomes more mature, more vital. The man becomes more manly, and the woman becomes more feminine.

ATTRACT AND REPEL

To make this possible, the two sexes must not only attract one another, but they must also repel one another. This may sound like a contradiction, but it can easily be demonstrated. It is normal, for example, for a man to be attracted to a woman, but it is equally normal for him to be repelled by femininity. No normal man would want to live in a beribboned and scented boudoir. On the other hand, it is normal for a woman to love a man; it is equally normal for her to be repelled by masculinity. No normal woman would like the loud talk, rough comradeship and bare decoration of a barracks or clubroom. The point to be stressed is that a man may love a woman but he hates to be womanly. A woman may love a man but she has no desires to be manly.

The love, then, that should exist between husband and wife can be expected to have the qualities of reverence and respect. In other words, when a husband loves his wife, he must love her because she is a woman and love her as a woman should be loved. He cannot love her as a pal and treat her like one of his football mates. The wife must love her husband because he is a man, and love him as a man should be loved. She must not treat him like a child or regard him as an old school friend. In this way, we respect the mystery of marriage. The man will never thoroughly understand the woman and usually admits it. The woman will never thoroughly understand the man, but will seldom admit it. Because of this mystery, the love of a man for a woman has a special character that makes it different from the love of a woman for a man. The nearest we can come to defining this difference is to say that the love of the man must be considerate and the love of the woman must be acquiescent.

LATE FOR SUPPER

I could take a few cases from my own experience to show you what I mean by consideration and acquiescence. Suppose I were to work late at the office. As I approach the house after getting off the bus, I try to phrase my excuse in advance so as to placate my wife’s very understandable ire at having “spoiled” her dinner. In my mind, the whole excuse boils down to the fact that I just had to work late. That’s all there is to it! I had to work late. So when I open the door and behold the frown, I say, “I’m awfully sorry, dear, for being late, but I just had to work late!” The thunder cloud is not so easily dispelled. But, after all, I did have to work late, didn’t I?

Before abstracting any lesson from this, let’s consider the opposite situation; when I get home on time and the wife doesn’t have the supper ready. Dorothy immediately goes into a lengthy and elaborate explanation: “You see, dear, Mrs. O’Connor called me over to meet Abigail Updyke, who is engaged to Mrs. O’Connor’s son. You can imagine my surprise when I discovered that Abigail went to school with Daphne Hothouse. You know Daphne, she was at our wedding-wore a silk taffeta skirt with a belt in the back-Well, you see,Mrs. O’Connor was awfully anxious to make Abigail feel at ease and she was delighted to discover that I have something in common with her-So, you see, one thing led to another . . .”

This explanation cannot be stemmed. It continues through supper and beyond. Finally, just before going to sleep, my wife breaks into tears, “You simply won’t forgive me for not having your dinner ready, will you?” Of course, I have already repeated at fifteen minute intervals for the past four hours, “That’s perfectly all right, dear, don’t let it bother you one little bit.” Naturally, near the end, my words of forgiveness had a slight note of “For Heaven’s sakes, forget it, will ya!”

I don’t intend to pass out a formula for handling such situations as these. My intention is only to demonstrate what I mean by consideration and acquiescence. Please notice that the husband’s crisp and precise explanation would have been quickly accepted by another man and the wife’s lengthy and elaborate excuse would have met the approval of another woman. In the second case (where the wife makes the excuse), the husband’s consideration for the feminine nature of the wife could make the whole thing come off very neatly. He should come to expect lengthy excuses (for that’s a woman’s way). If, for example, he showed a certain amount of enthusiasm for his wife’s story (which she is elaborating to take his attention away from her negligence), the first thing you know is that the entire attention would be centered on the story and the late supper would be forgotten.

In the first case, if the wife were to acquiesce to the masculine habit of crisp explanations, and accept it as a precise statement of fact, everything would be fine. She needs merely say, “Of course, dear, you had to work late, that can’t be helped.”

Consideration is an active, aggressive virtue. Acquiescence is a passive, docile virtue. The husband has to summon up his enthusiasm for his wife’s lengthy story. The wife has to quiet and pacify her anger at his being late, and also squelch her curiosity for details.

Another example that illustrates consideration and acquiescence is the formality of a man’s opening a door for a lady. Picture a couple, arm-in-arm, approaching a closed door. For the entire formality to come off gracefully, the girl must step back and the fellow must step forward. If the fellow fails to step forward, the girl feels that she has been ill-treated. If, on the other hand the girl fails to step back, the man must either roughly push her aside or else follow her shame-facedly through the doorway. The same kind of consideration and acquiescence are necessary in every intersexual act.

MEN MUST LEAD

Why should this be so? Human experience throughout the ages prescribes that in every joint enterprise of men and women, the man must lead. It would be foolish to defend this male leadership here, because the defense lies with those who doubt it or who can produce a plausible alternative. As individuals, men and women have been endowed by God with an equality in dignity and potential. They do not, however, have the same function to fill in society. It is merely in this role, when their functions are wed to conceive a joint enterprise, that the leadership falls to the man. It is only when men exploit their leadership by active brutality or passive weakness that women refuse to accept the supporting role. Today is just such an era of brutality and weakness. Consequently, there has been a concerted endeavor on the part of women to throw off a yoke that robs them of their dignity. If it is true (and history proves it so) that a woman gains full stature and great dignity beside a virtuous and virile husband, it is equally true that a weak man will have an even more debilitating effect upon his wife.

Human nature does not change, however. If it is true that the men of our generation exhibit a gross brutality in their war and a shameful weakness in their peace, failure on the part of women to acquiesce will do nothing more than aggravate the situation. The wife who refuses to accept the dignity of a supporting role forces her husband to be either brutal or weak. There is no alternative to mutual harmony, and the requirement will always be that the man be eternally considerate of the sensitive nature of the woman and the woman acquiesce to the active aggressiveness of her husband. Sacrifice and great charity is needed in either case.

THE ETERNAL TRIANGLE

I suppose any fellow or girl who ever paused to consider the privilege of being married and of accepting its responsibilities has asked himself if he were worthy or adequate. At one time I thought that I was a bad risk. Suddenly my marrying Dot seemed like a dirty trick on her. My health was not too good. I had a chronic ailment as the result of an early football injury. I’m no genius, especially at making money. Along with that, I have certain principles that I wouldn’t violate for any paycheck, a resolve that had made me disliked by more than one boss.

Without being morbid, and just being honest with myself, I had to admit I was a bad marital risk. Yet I marshalled up the courage to take the plunge, and I have weathered other periods of misgivings which persist to the present day. The key to the riddle is my faith.

Any parent who has ever taken his new baby in his arms and looked at it has had an experience that should have touched his head as well as his heart. No one could believe for a moment, unless he were a presumptuous fool, that this unbelievably wonderful creature, so perfect and brand new, could be an effect of which he and his wife were the sole and simple cause. Could either of you, who hardly know how to care for this creature, who fumble with many thumbs to sustain it, be so foolish as to suppose this child is wholly yours? The bare minimum of humility demands a “No!”

This moment can be priceless. It is easy to see a great mystery here. There is a special grace from God that comes with the first visible fruit of matrimony. You suddenly see yourselves as participators in a tremendous drama in which the elements are real and the stake is life. Your part is a great privilege, but a simple task. God has fashioned a body and a soul. You had a part in it, but how little a part, considering this wonderful, tangible, vital infant. With this there would come an awful awareness of the presence of God. This God, Who can in His perfection transcend all things, deigns to become an intimate of our home. His presence here is warm with life. Our babies grow mysteriously; we merely feed and wash them. Then come words and ideas. A new will exerts itself against the bars of the crib. A new consciousness watches the visitor and recognizes the parent. A new personality makes its mark on the high chair and eventually on the world.

THREE PROVIDERS

You see yourself working along with God. He has enlisted your aid, not you His. He has made you His agent. It is His plan, His scheme of things, His harvest. You are in attendance, removing the obstacles to His workings. It is in the light of this that the idea of being a bad risk is defeated.

For who is a good risk? In what way does a million dollars, bountiful health, or human genius guarantee a successful marriage? Are these safeguards against conflicting wills, sickness or poverty? Not at all! The things that make for happy marriages, as anyone who is happily married can testify, are intangible things that moths do not consume nor with which thieves abscond. In fact, it is money and the power it gives, it is human genius with its ugly pride, and it is the constant concern about opinions and possessions, to which divorces attribute their failure.

Trust in God not only is a guarantee of our needs, as Christ promised it would be, but it also disposes our minds and wills to bear with the difficulties of conflicting wills. God’s spiritual gifts of mutual charity and trust are far more precious and indispensable than His bounty in providing bread.

Knowing this, I told my wife right at the beginning that there was only one reason why she should trust me in spite of my obvious failings. That reason was that I trusted God. The strength of our family would not depend upon Daddy’s right arm, his foresight, his intrepid character, but rather upon the infinite mercy of God, Who is more concerned for our good than we are, and far more capable of providing for it. There are three providers in our house, Christ and His two agents, my wife and me.

FIDELITY IN MARRIAGE

The faithfulness of partners in marriage is a thing seldom discussed. Those who are unfaithful usually try to keep their infidelity a secret, and those who are not, consider infidelity as something “nice people don’t do.” This secretive attitude might be appropriate were it not for the fact that infidelity is no longer a rare and isolated event, but rather a social epidemic. Conversations in shops, club rooms, and offices would be enough to indicate its prevalence, but in addition we have the infidelity of pre-marital sexrelations, and the infidelity of tandem remarriages.

To regard unfaithfulness as the isolated and strictly personal affair of the parties concerned is to overlook the entire significance of human contract. The bond which unites men harmoniously in society is trust in a common God, and trust in one another. All human relations depend for their proper resolution on an exchange of trust and confidence. At the root of each social contract, whether between co-partners in business or between nations, lies the most sacred, most selfless, and most intimate of all contracts- marriage. Nowhere, apart from the strict profession of religious life, do you find a greater relinquishing of human privilege for the sake of a common goal than in marriage.

The ultimate infidelity, divorce, strikes a murderous blow at the innocent children who cannot help but be left with a wound that grows fetid with mistrust and cynicism. As the children grow, they carry a wariness into their relations with others. The divorce society shies away from all commitments and violates every contract. When this paranoia becomes political, you have something like Soviet Russia and Nazi Germany-mistrust and persecution manias hover like ghosts over the conference table, and wars are waged in the name of imaginary injustices.

From each family flows a tiny spring that empties into the moral reservoir of society. Here at its source the waters are either purified or polluted. When the pollution has reached the reservoir, the moral health of every social institution is jeopardized.

CHASTITY -THE GUARDIAN

Standing watch over this entire process of human inter-course is the virtue of chastity. This picture of guardianship would be ludicrous were we to portray chastity in the role assigned her by the prude or the libertine. It is to the advantage of those who reap personal or corporate profit from moral degeneracy to reduce chastity to the level of a cartoonist’s old maid whose only claim to fame is a record of “no hits, no runs, no errors.” If we look at the thing boldly, however, and realize that the fate of nations depends upon the inviolability of contracts, and that the marriage contract is the keystone in the contractual arch, and that chastity is the guardian of the marital act, then we must conceive of a virtue-of an adequacy-that demands the heroic.

Chastity fills this role and fills it well. It is in the pure splendor of new love that chastity takes root in marriage, when the young lovers regard their union as inviolate. Their ardor would abhor nothing as much as infidelity. This vital tree is cultivated through sickness, trials and failures, and bears fruit and casts seeds as their children are betrothed and marry. There is no greater tribute of man to man than this concentration of love on one person undeterred. Infidelity is the love-tragedy, the ultimate betrayal of every human confidence.

IMMODESTY -THE ENEMY

The alarming thing about infidelity is its ability to grow without studied malice. Those who betray their wives or husbands usually do not violate their vow in hatred, but in despair. Their passions refuse to be subservient to their love. Consequently, the enemy to be sought out and destroyed is not infidelity or divorce, but the virus which breaks down resistance. The name of the virus is immodesty.

When we concentrate upon immodesty our inquiry covers a broader social field. The provocations to lust are not limited to those areas where lust can be satisfied. The unhappy fact is that very chaste women frequently dress as though they were not. The most faithful wives often dress as though they were advertisements for infidelity. Thus the theatre and movies, the advertisements and novels, the styles and postures, spread their propaganda for lust into every home, and those who feel the least vulnerable may be the first to become infected.

The most striking evidence for this is the impossibility of finding today a living symbol for the chaste spouse, the valiant woman, yet within a hundred yards of wherever you may be, you can find in print or in the flesh, a symbol of female prostitution. It was just such a lack of dignified symbol that recently led a young Jewish psychologist to the discovery of the Blessed Virgin Mary.

In her, he saw woman glorified, fruitful, valiant and inviolate. In her, he saw a modesty that was not a posture, but an exterior radiance that clothed her dynamic vitality. Summed up in all the veneration extended to Mary throughout the ages, he saw the challenge to today’s glorification of the street walker. He concluded as I have concluded, that the salvation of human fidelity and the sacredness of contracts ultimately depends upon the veneration of womanhood glorified. Fortunately for us, Christ has given us not merely a symbol but a mother of flesh and blood who stands through time and eternity as the prototype of humanity redeemed, invulnerable to sin, triumphant over temptation, free from treachery.

THE CHILDREN -FOCUS OF FAMILY CONCERN

George Bernard Shaw once said that if a man lived three hundred years he would know everything. G.K. Chesterton answered, “Yes, and if Shaw lived three hundred years, he would be a Catholic.” The point Shaw had in mind when he made the crack was that history tends to repeat itself. Mankind is always sitting in the pasture of history, rechewing its own cud. In any three-hundred-year period, all theories and revolutions prove themselves either true or untrue, either sane or insane. What Chesterton had in mind was that any man who saw his own lifespan within a perspective of three hundred years would see the logic of Christianity and the need of a Church to perpetuate that logic through history.

To understand marriage we must also regard it from a perspective that embraces a number of generations, other-wise we do not see it wholly. Matrimony is a love affair, but it is a love affair in which many more than two people take part. Two is company, but it takes at least three to make a family.

Suppose, for instance, that we look at marriage according to the current mores, what do we see? We see two people in love. They are young and at the height of their idealism and vigor. They marry. The first few months are preoccupied with mutual adoration. Reasonably and observably this can’t go on forever. When the fever-heat of the honeymoon has cooled, what is left? They usually try to bank the fire and, while reducing its intensity, attempt to extend its quiet warmth throughout the years. As time goes on, and the lovers grow in age, their attempts at maintaining their love become frantic and all-absorbing. In their narrow scheme of things the climax has passed and all that is left is a prolonged and inevitable anti-climax. They proceed from youth to old age, and finally to the grave. Their love story is more tragic than that of Romeo and Juliet. It is suicidal, but a suicide extended over many dull years, rather than over a few dramatic moments.

MARRIAGE AND LIFE

But contrasted with this concept of marriage, let’s try to see it in the perspective of generations. Two people meet, each of them an heir to a valuable heritage. They bring to the altar an inheritance of culture, of wisdom and of faith. Their ancestors suffered, died, endured sea voyages, imprisonment, preserving this treasure which the two lovers offer one another when they plight their troth. In their marital embrace they generate the seed of a new generation who will take these historic gifts and weave them together in a new pattern-a new way of life. The process of events is no longer tragic as the lovers grow old they see their early vigor transplanted in their children. The children become adept at using the cherished culture, wisdom and faith.

This glorious tradition blossoms anew within the family. The parents are unaware of their declining years and passing youth because they are too engrossed, cultivating a new and more wonderful life in their children.

Without this conception of marriage as a vehicle for extending a life of culture, wisdom and faith throughout the years, the entire adventure and the very reason for marriage is lost. Without it, marriage is a flash in the pan, a glorious sky-rocket that drops in a moment, charred and inert. We cannot, however, maintain this conception of marriage unless we truly cherish the culture, wisdom and faith to which we are heirs. If life for us means no more than the thing that began at our birth and ends with our death, then we, in truth, have no troth to plight. We are asking our beloved to wed tomorrow’s cadaver, to share a requiem, to share our grave.

The Christian home is a shrine that glorifies a living culture, wisdom and faith. It is not a museum for the accumulation of outmoded gestures, relics of the past, but a place of new birth. In the children the faith comes to life, taking on new forms, developing unique social patterns.

All the moralizing against birth control is almost always in vain unless this vital conception of marriage is retained. Who would have children if the end of childhood were nothing but a dull wait for death? Who would want children if he had no treasure to offer them? Who would give life unless life had an eternal significance, dating back to Genesis and extending forward to eternal union with God?

In the modern scheme of things the child too often comes as an obstacle to the parents’ wallowing in their own childish and selfish indulgences; whereas in the Christian scheme of things the child becomes the focus of family concern, the new messenger, the new apostle, to carry the flame through another generation.

THE CHRIST-LIFE LIVED

Realizing this, Dorothy and I are trying to revive the cultural patterns of the past and adapt them to the new generation in which Ann and Marie, Paul and Michael, Elizabeth, Peter and Clare, will live. We want them to know and appreciate the Christian thing as it was appreciated in ages past, as it is understood today by the Catholic natives of Hong Kong, of Czechoslovakia, of Italy. During the weeks before Christmas, the Advent wreath is hung and its candles lighted, while the sole absorption of many neighbors is with Christmas shopping. Christ comes into our house on Christmas Day and the Infant remains with us through the Epiphany. The children learn of the exchange of gifts, the constant beneficence of God. Later we go through Lent. Michael learns a new significance for the bumped head and the scraped shin-bone as he vaguely perceives the positive value of suffering. Easter is a glorious reward for the endurance of fasts and penances, consonant with their age and capacity.

The significance centers, not in pious gestures, but the children are taught the Christ-life lived. Justice and charity in their dealings with playmates. Poverty and ingeniousness in their little arts, such as those exemplified in the carpenter shop at Nazareth.

Slowly they will perceive the vast Christian mission and their part in it, the splendid adventure of restoring to Christ a world that has strayed. Their pettiness will be replaced by a docility to greatness. They will become alarmed at the vacuity of selfishness and let that vacuum be filled with divine purposefulness.

Children mean just that to us. We do not pray and work so that everything will go well. Our concern is that everything will grow well. Will we try to become better-off for the sake of the children? No! We will try to become better for the sake of the children, because by becoming better we will become closer to God Who is the Source of all good, material and spiritual, and because we have learned that the desire to become better-off is just as likely to exclude children as to include them.

THE WILL OF THE CHILD

The last few paragraphs may be a little top heavy with the idea of placing traditional burdens on young shoulders. We haven’t forgotten that each child has a life of its own to be led. A child never goes according to the book. Each one is unique, and the formula for each one’s happiness differs in details from that of the other.

Persons who have no children usually possess dogmatic principles for raising them. It is sheer poetry to envisage children as either saints or devils. Experience proves that each child is a unique combination of conflicting elements. The parent must strive gently to resolve those conflicts, always respecting the delicate instrument with which he works. When a child does something against the wishes of the parent, his motive may be either weakness, love, malice, ignorance, fear or imitation. For example, Mike constantly strays out of the neighborhood. We have had to put the police on his tail at various times. Should this crime be treated as malicious disobedience? No!Mike has a memory that doesn’t retain a thing. He proceeds from one wonderful experience to the other. Even on the way to the woodland his anticipation is forgotten in the delight of watching a passing butterfly! Virtue must be made adventurous for Mike or he’s not interested.

Marie is sent to the corner store. She returns an hour later with some strange tale and no groceries. Marie is timid and she just waits until the proprietor finds her down below the counter. Paul talks back to his Grandma simply in imitation of the sport he has with the neighbors’ teenage boys. Here and there is malice, unbalanced nature, original sin forcing its way through. Each of the motives must be recognized. Malice is punished. Imitation is channeled. Ignorance is instructed. Fear is dispelled. Weakness is strengthened. Never is the will bent too far, but only slowly and carefully, in keeping with its nature.

LEARNING FROM CHILDREN

Influence in the home is by no means one-sided. If the family dynamic is working properly while the children are being counselled by the parents as to the ways of adulthood, the parents are being reminded by the youngsters of the virtues of childhood. Any parent who is honest with himself has his tongue in his cheek whenever he says, “I don’t know why it is that Junior persists in doing the things I tell him not to do!” At such a time he cannot help but think of his own disobedience and perversity in relation to God. Why do we, the parents, persist in our disobedience to God?

What adult, when talking to a youngster, does not envy his guilelessness and sincerity? His upturned face so open and sincere? Often I have brought worries home only to have them dispelled by the gaiety of the children. Their happy innocence gives us a nostalgia for the innocence of the sons of God. “Unless you become like little children,” Christ said, “you will not enter into the Kingdom of Heaven.” How for- tunate to have the evidences of childhood all around us to pin-prick our sophistications and remind us of our helplessness before God.

Adulthood can become an awfully grim and desperate state unless it is tempered by the sanity of childhood. Yet the homes today are few and far between in which you can find that elusive ingredient. The vogue now is to tolerate the child within an adult milieu. Mother and father keep their world autonomous, limiting the children to playpens. The children are bribed with toys to keep their distance. The tribulations of the child are treated as so many “cases” with the formal competence more becoming to a social worker than a parent. Fortunately with a brood as large as ours, childhood cannot be relegated to an area. It’s all over the place. Lonely children sense this and seek out our home as though it were an oasis. In spite of their electric toys and three-shift tricycles, they would rather spend their time among our youngsters. In the eyes of the children, it is our brood who are privileged because our home is for children, not for grown-ups. In other houses you may find a child, but in our house you can find childhood.

FEAR AND WORRY

One experience we had that has done much to relieve us of fears and worries was that which occurred when we were expecting our fourth baby. We were living fairly snugly in a finished attic in a pleasant neighborhood. Things had become somewhat crowded since the time we had moved there as starry-eyed newlyweds. The landlady didn’t like our propensity for propagation. She didn’t like the wailing and gnashing of teethings, and she also felt that large families reduced the value of real estate; this in spite of the fact that we had painted and decorated the exterior and interior of the house. She had asked us to leave.

We had gone about on Sunday afternoons, scouting the area for vacant flats. If there had been some way by which we could have boiled down our three children into one dog, we might have made the grade with some landlords. With three toddlers, we didn’t have the chance at all.

This had not bothered us too much until my wife became pregnant. The attendant increased sensitiveness made her more vulnerable to the scathing remarks of the landlady. We were also learning that having a large family so close together shared the same social stigma as chronic drunkenness or dope-peddling. Our neighbors and relatives compounded a hypocritical concern for our plight with an equally obvious unwillingness to assist us in any way. Our spirits were at a low ebb.

At that time I was working as a shipping clerk in a warehouse. We were very busy and overworked. My chronic ailment had become worse. In addition to that, I had been giving all my leisure hours to the preparation of the yet unborn INTEGRITY magazine.

One evening a friend of mine dropped in to mind the children while Dot and I went to see the doctor. He had unpleasant news for us. “It is impossible,” he told us, “at this late date to make a hospital appointment for your wife.” The hospitals were overcrowded and beds were scarce. The second piece of news was that I had to take a month in bed, or else.

Well, that was the picture when we went home that night. Here were all the circumstances that trembling newlyweds foresee with horror. Sickness, eviction and childbirth, and no money in the bank. The way the thing worked out has only reconfirmed our trust in God and taught us something about the way He acts.

We prayed and asked the prayers of others. We encouraged one another and went ahead with our plans. To my great surprise the company paid my salary for the month of absence. I felt no compunction in accepting it because I had spared no effort in their behalf during the preceding two years. The rest left me free to concentrate on the magazine plans, undisturbed by the urgency that I had felt before. My wife was shunted to another, less expensive doctor who found her a bed in a truly Christian hospital, and her lying-in period was the happiest she had known.

Shortly after my recovery, I came to New York where we were planning to publish the magazine. My associates and I made a novena of prayers, and I placed an advertisement in the newspaper reading, “Undesirable tenant wishes to rent apartment. Have four children and will probably have more.” There was one answer. A small house, badly in need of repairs, was available in a suburban part of the city. I plastered up the sagging ceilings, repaired the furnace, and we all moved in.

TRIAL AND TRIUMPH

In retrospect it is obvious that what we had at first considered to be great troubles, were actually the stepping stones to great treasures. When we were at what appeared to be the depth of our miseries, we were in fact on the threshold of a new adventure. The poets have made much of this universal experience, phrasing it in suchways as “the darkest hour is just before the dawn.” The Christian can see a more mysterious element and abstract a more profound conclusion.

God desires our faith or complete trust in Him. He permits troubles and fears to arise so as to strengthen our faith, much as a football coach will drill his squad vigorously so that their strength will grow. Every ill to which the human is prone exists singly for the purpose of our placing our trust in God. We do this by bearing with the suffering but always with the realization that we will at last be triumphant.

If we reject the trial through timidity, we inevitably reject the triumph and fail to gain the reward. A man who resorts to dishonesty in order to swing a deal because he fears that honesty will gain him nothing, by so doing erects an obstacle between himself and God’s providence. A new baby has often been the occasion for a husband’s getting a promotion and a wife’s regaining her health. Yet most people deny themselves children on the erroneous presumption that a new baby inevitably means unhappiness. In their denial of the sacrifice, they turn away from God’s bounty. God’s concern for them, His desire for their happiness, is continuous and generous, but they, through timidity, refuse to grasp the cross which will release the treasure.

TRUST GOD -HELP YOURSELF

The enemies of Christianity have always used whatever weapons might be lying around without regard for truth or fair play. The communist weapon is slander. They do not condemn a Christian belief for what it is but try to prove it is something else, less grand, less desirable. Ever since the death of Christ there has been a campaign on foot to deform His simple teachings. One of the most subtle of these lies is the one that makes a trust in God’s providence appear to be an excuse for sloth and irresponsibility. It is true that a religious man is not money-hungry, nor does he want to get the best of his neighbor in a deal, but it is not true that a trust in God makes him less diligent.

The married man today must trust in God and that implies much more work and greater ingenuity than he would need if he were single, or without faith. Society makes little, if any, provision for the responsibilities of parenthood. The prices of children’s clothing, rents, doctors’ bills and natal care are all in the luxury bracket. Yet there is no corresponding increase in his income. He must shoulder all the extra burdens that go with sustaining unproductive children, and rather than receiving help, he is considered foolish, ostracized from many areas of the city, charged exorbitant sums for children’s clothing, excluded from associations he can no longer afford to belong to, and frequently must work for longer hours at a lower rate of pay.

To do this requires hard work and ingenuity. The father of a normal-sized family must learn to take care of as many of his own needs as possible. He can’t afford to be without a set of simple tools and the knowledge of how to use them.

He must be able to make minor electrical, carpentry, plumbing and mechanical repairs. The wife, in turn, must also, in spite of her additional burdens, acquire skills that will lessen the need for calling in experts.

My wife has saved many dollars of doctors’ bills by learning to diagnose and treat minor ailments. We have learned the proper procedure in first aid and medical treatments for the innumerable germs and accidents that invade a family. Not long ago, by a simple trip to the distributor’s and fifteen minutes with a screwdriver, I saved the cost of a repair bill for my refrigerator. With a pair of hair clippers, I can rival the average barber at giving the boys a haircut. Things have to be really bad before we must resort to doctors’ fees and the bills of repair men.

Beyond this there is the need to keep our children entertained as well and with far less money than that expended by our less productive neighbors. We must teach them games and build them toys. The toys must be beyond comparison with the store-gotten fantasies showered on the pampered kid next door. We must instill in our children a sense of leadership so that they will not grow timid under the persecution that nice people dish out to what they so hypocritically term the “underprivileged.”

Trust in God implies a mighty diligence and an adventurous ingenuity. Please notice that under the time-honored system of Christian marriage, husbandry and house-wifery are not the moronic vocations that the careerist deceitfully claims they are. A father who places life first, who not only accepts children but really provides for them, is likely to make more decisions in a day than a business executive makes in a month. His life is intensely interesting. There is no time for boredom. He must be a philosopher, a craftsman, a politician, a doctor, a psychologist, an administrator and a poet.

His wife must be a nurse, a teacher, an artist, a hostess and a director of souls. The society of the future is made under the eyes and hands of the mother and father, for after the child leaves the home the fate of society and his role in it has already been decided.

A FAMILY OF FAMILIES

It is no surprise that today’s family has come in for such a beating once you realize that the family spirit is just the opposite to cut-throat competition. No one expects that one of a gang of robbers holding up a bank will stop to pick up a lady’s handkerchief or help an old lady across the street with her bundles. For the same reason you can’t expect the family spirit to survive in a society where everyone is concerned with self-expression, self-aggrandizement, and even the religious people solely concerned with selfimprovement. This is especially true when the idea of self-improvement is divorced from the traditionally Christian notion that the way to self-improvement is self-sacrifice.

Christ told us we must love God and love our neighbor. He did not need to tell us to love ourselves or further our own ambitions. If we really want to be perfect and perfectly happy, we gain this state by seeking the happiness of others and not bothering too much about ourselves.

I have already indicated that this modern self-centeredness makes a unity between the husband and wife thoroughly impossible. The modern man and woman lack the generosity for sacrifice that is required before two bodies and two souls can work in harmony. It is precisely this self-centeredness that the Sacrament of Christian Matrimony was designed by God to erase.

Christian Matrimony provides a God-given grace that sublimates our natures so that the man and wife are enabled to overcome their human selfishness and to become docile to the daily task that lies before them. This grace not only tends to unite man and wife, but it also unites family with family. This is a fact that my wife and I discovered only after many preliminary mistakes.

ALL BY OURSELVES

You see, we were a pair of starry-eyed idealists when we walked away from the matrimonial altar, hand-inhand. I’m not sorry about that. If there is one time when the heart should be filled with daring plans and great adventure, it should be on the day of marriage. Because we were idealists, we knew the scorn which the modern world has for ideals. It isn’t the man who can hold an ideal that is admired today, but the man who can swing a deal. Our contemporaries are not interested in prophets but in profits.

Even before we were married, the persons were few and far between who truly encouraged us in our hopes. Everyone and his brother, it seems, feels obligated to warn the prospective bride and groom of the precautions that must be taken against disaster, even the “disaster” of having children. Advice for the engaged has the grim quality of modern book-keeping that fastens its eyes not on success, but upon bankruptcy and resale. After being subject for so long to such wet-blanket counsels, we decided to keep our ideals to ourselves. We were not marrying on speculation, we were playing for keeps. If no one believed this, then we would keep it as our own secret.

As we furnished our home and had our first children, and developed family customs, we kept pretty much to ourselves. We were friendly with our neighbours and relatives, but never intimate. We did not wish to have our ideals challenged. We wanted a Christian family life without having to defend our position at every step.

The time came, however, when we saw that things cannot be handled quite so neatly. An ideal is not a thing that is meant to be hung as an immaculate sword about the fire-place, but a thing to become bloodstained and muddy in battle. The occasion for this lesson was the arrival of our third baby.

At that time we had neither a telephone nor a car. As is inevitable, the first pangs of childbirth came at the cold, unholy hour of 4:00 A.M. I had to fumble into my clothes, run across the street to a neighbour, wake him and beg the use of his phone. I received no response to my calls for a taxi, and had to go to another neighbour for the use of his car. Much to my delight and humiliation, the same neighbours whom I had tried to keep out of my affairs so assiduously, were extremely generous when I asked them to help me with my affairs. If I had wished to do so, I could have taken a vacation at that time and left the care of the two children to these friendly women. I did not do this, but I did gain a far more valuable service from them because I learned in an unforgettable way that the family cannot and should not, no matter what its ideals may be, exist for itself, but that it must be part of a community of families.

NEIGHBOURLINESS

The fact that these people, in times of emergency, leaped happily to the aid of a family in need, proved to me that if this same neighbourliness were revived as a continuous social attitude, each individual family would have a far greater chance of survival, as well as an opportunity to grow normally.

Having our ideals challenged did us no harm. Most of our neighbours had accepted in varying degrees the sterile and fatal prescription for marriage dispensed by the popular magazines and upheld by popular opinion. They did not regard children as a blessing but as a burden. The women were more intent upon retaining the appearance of youth than gaining the dignity of dedicated motherhood. The husbands were more concerned about making more money, than passing on to their children a spiritual bank account that can never be overdrawn. Making friends with such people meant many an argument, and a certain weariness at defending our principles. But, as I say, it was worth it. We were forced by such intimate contact to re-examine our stand. If we were right, we became more convinced. Where we had become spiritual snobs, we were forced to admit it. Many of the people who would not accept our high ideals practiced a charity in their lives far greater than ours. Some who practiced birth control were more patient with children they had than we were with ours.

We learned about all that despite any difference of religious views or practical policies, God intended that we should need one another. We learned that our family was only a small part of a larger and greater family. We became aware in a very practical way of the implication of that magnificent Christian teaching called the Mystical Body of Christ: that all men are part one of the other, and the Head of that Body is Christ.

This was not all we learned. The more we sought to live in charity with our neighbours, the more we observed the universal hunger that people have for the spiritual food the Church dispenses. Sometimes, for example, in the course of an evening’s conversation, we would mention a Christian truth that we had come to look upon as commonplace. Our guests would be amazed and ask us to repeat it. They would carry it away as a treasure, and before long they would have made it as important a part of their lives that we would be ashamed at having let it become commonplace.

COMMUNITY AND PROVIDENCE

God makes use of the community as an instrument of His providence. No family has everything it needs all the time. Few families have everything they need at any time. Yet if many families were to add up their needs and possessions in a collective pool, perhaps all of them would be able to extract all that they needed at a given time. I can hear harsh words of “communism” in the background, but that is utter nonsense. Wherever people have lived together in harmony since the beginning of time, there has always been a spirit of mutual co-operation. It is thoroughly perverse for any family to be forced to conclude that it is completely dependent upon its own efforts. Yet this is the spirit of to-day. So afraid are we to depend upon our neighbors in time of need that we timidly hoard every penny against such a day. Private property is a good thing and so is thrift, but if the emphasis on them is so great that each family becomes an independent kingdom, then society will destroy itself.

At the present time I am engaged in building a group of houses in company with thirteen other families. We have been at it but a short time, but yet long enough to see the tremendous benefits of neighborly co-operation. First of all, hardly any of us would have considered the possibility of owning our own homes, for, since we have large families and average incomes, we could not possibly afford it. It is yet to be proved that we can do it or afford to do it in a group, but we are working as though it were possible. This working together has given us new assurance and moral courage. We have helped each other in various ways and will grow in knowledge of community co-operation. Already men have learned skills and wives have reconfirmed one another’s faith in Christian living. Each family knows that if it suffers it will not suffer alone, and if it prospers, the others will rejoice. We are not competing against one another, but seeking a common goal as a complementary company of neighbors.

FAMILIES LIVE TOGETHER

The alternative to this is for each family to go ahead, seeking its own, letting the Devil take the hindmost. Yet every family that breaks up, or becomes dependent upon the state for support, threatens the entire society of families. New laws are invoked to meet the breakdown of the family, and these laws limit the liberty of other families as well as condoning the weakness. The fact that most families can no longer own property has caused us to lose a respect for property. This, in turn, causes us to relax our vigilance against the development of a government policy which will eventually make ownership completely impossible. The municipal apartment dwellings are an insult to a free people: concrete birdhouses for government wards so small that there is no room for children. We can neither rant nor fume against this unless we seek the only alternative: free co-operation of families to build houses in spread-out areas, where there will be room for children, shops, vegetable gardens and livestock.

It is very sad that engaged couples and newly-weds when they are young and vigorous cannot be persuaded to join forces with others and do things in a community way. When the third and fourth child come along it is hard then to face the obvious fact, that our urban society does not want normal families. They suddenly realize that they must rely on their own efforts at a time when their cares and burdens are greatest.

Thank Heaven, more and more men are buying tools and meeting at planning sessions. More and more wives are sewing together, shopping together, and minding each other’s babies. There is some residual Christian liberty and American independence left so that a welfare state and a communist state will not evolve without our putting up a good fight. Families are coming together, yours and mine, and discovering this splendid thing-a community.

―YES‖ TO GOD-―YES‖ TO EACH OTHER

Not long ago my wife and I had a few moments of peace together. I had arrived home from the office after a day of tiring conferences, capped by the usual hour on the subway. The seven children were having their supper and my wife’s hectic day was at its climax. Ann had been told in school that she needed glasses. Marie had pictures to show me which she had painted in kindergarten. Paul was in line for a spanking for having resisted a neighbour’s attempts to remove him from his rear bumper. Michael had a cold. Elizabeth had fallen downstairs. Peter’s new tooth had blossomed beautifully in the middle of his grin. Clare, too, had a cold.

We organized the rambunctious crew through their supper, washed them up, packaged them in their pajamas and lined them up for prayers. Paul was able to get through the “Hail Mary” without any help. Michael characteristically thanked God and asked God for “food.” Elizabeth made the others giggle when she said “blessed is the soup” instead of “blessed is the fruit.”

Prayers having been finished, we tucked them in bed. Everything had been tended to except listening to Ann’s “reading.” God bless you’s were exchanged and Dot and I sat down at the kitchen to eat our cooled-off dinner. Surprisingly enough, the children went immediately to sleep. We became suddenly aware of the ticking of the kitchen clock-things were that quiet!

Suddenly a feeling of great peace descended upon us. We lingered over a second cup of tea and began to reminisce. Nine years of married life were behind us. We talked about our various experiences together. I asked Dot which of these experiences struck her as being the happiest. We both knitted our brows and tried to remember. After a while Dot said, “You know, I don’t think I was ever more happy with you than I am right at this moment.” I had to admit with some surprise that I felt the same way!

Ours, we think, is a successful marriage. How do we account for success when all the trials and troubles we go through are the very things that other people avoid as pit-falls? I suppose that at the root of the happiness is a mystery. Through a process of elimination, we always arrive at the conclusion that it is nothing but God’s helping grace. We are living a Sacrament. All the other things that seem to explain our peace in the midst of trouble are more an effect than a cause. Certainly a husband’s love matures as he sees his wife constantly attentive to the endless demands of the children, rising in a cold bedroom to early-morning emergencies. His love is no longer a fairy-thing, floating in the mirages of courtship. This is a woman with courage and a capacity for sacrifice. She is no stoic, no creature of iron will and vigorous constitution. She is a woman sensitive to pain, yet beyond pain when someone else needs attention. I have not the slightest doubt that come hell or high water, Dot will be right beside me, doing a masterful job. She may weep, but she will work through her tears and she will smile when a smile is needed.

There is a strength far beyond our own that mans the helm of our family ship. Each joy and sorrow has a place in the divine scheme of things. Take one iota of trouble away, and the balance would be lost, the happiness less poignant, the peace less complete. This is Christian marriage, a star, real, practical, full adventure, a thing of days, nights, years and eternity. The price we pay is merely to reiterate the original vow, “I will,” saying over and over again, “Yes” to God and “Yes” to each other.

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Marriage Questions

REV. DR. L. RUMBLE, M.S.C

INDEX

1. Is marriage a contract as well as a sacrament?

For baptized Christians it is both a contract and a sacrament.

2. Did God institute marriage or did it evolve from evolution?

The Book of Genesis tells us that God said: “it is not good for man to be alone. Let us make him a help like unto himself. . . . Then the Lord God cast a deep sleep upon Adam. And when he was asleep He took one of his ribs and filled up flesh for it. And the Lord God built the rib which He took from Adam into a woman. And He brought her to Adam. And Adam said: ‘This now is bone of my bone and flesh of my ‘flesh. She shall be called woman because she was taken out of man. Wherefore a man shall leave father and mother and shall cleave to his wife, and they shall be two in one flesh.’” (Gen. 2:18.) Out of this we see how God instituted marriage and that marriage did not just evolve from evolution.

3. What is the primary end of marriage, children or satisfaction of the sex instinct?

The primary purpose of marriage is the procreation of children for the purpose of continuing the human race; the secondary end of marriage is the remedy of concupiscence.

4. Didn’t some Christians believe that marriage was sinful?

Yes. The Gnostic heretics condemned by St. Paul (Tim. 4.3) forbade marriage on the grounds that it was sinful. But marriage is good and holy when properly exercised: “Marriage honorable in all, and the bed undefiled.” (Heb. 13:14.)

5. Are all bound to marry?

No. Otherwise Christ would have given the example by marrying Himself. Read Mt. 19:12 where Christ speaks about the eunuchs, the unmarried, the celibates who make themselves celibates for the kingdom of Heaven.

6. What do you mean when you say that marriage is a sacrament?

The Sacrament of Marriage is a sacred, sensible sign instituted by Christ to confer Divine grace on the husband and wife.

7. Who said marriage is a sacrament?

We know marriage is much more than a “contract of secular business” as Luther declared marriage to be, because the Catholic Church founded by Christ says so, especially through the teaching of the Fathers and early Church councils. St. Paul declares marriage to be a sacrament in Eph. 5:32. The Protestant Bible declares it to be a “Great Mystery,” but Luther declares it to be no greater than secular business and has no place in the Church. As the union of Christ with His Church (a comparison of marriage by St. Paul) signifies the bestowal of grace on the Church, so the union of husband and wife signifies the bestowal of grace in Christian marriage. Hence among Christians the contract is not distinct from the sacrament, for the sacrament is nothing but the contract raised to the dignity of a sacrament; “Christ our Lord raised to the dignity of a sacrament the contract of marriage between baptized persons.” Canon 1012 also says, “Wherefore between baptized persons there can be no valid contract of marriage without being a sacrament.” Marriage therefore is a sacrament when validly entered into by two baptized persons, whether they are Catholic or Protestant.

8. Do Catholics and Protestants who marry in mortal sin receive the sacrament?

They receive the sacrament but not the grace. They commit sacrilege. The presence of mortal sin shuts out the bestowal of grace. If they make a good Confession and repent, later on the grace of the sacrament revives in the soul according to the common teaching of theologians.

9. Does the priest marry a couple or do couples marry themselves?

The couple marry themselves, for the parties to the marriage are the ministers of the sacrament and the priest is the necessary and authorized witness of the Church.

10. Can people marry who refuse to have children?

If by refusing to have children you mean a refusal to give and receive the perpetual and exclusive right to the marriage debt, then those who marry with this intention are not married, because they exclude the essential object of the marriage contract. But if by refusing to have children you mean a refusal to bear more than one or two; the marriage of such a person is valid, on condition that the right of the other party to the marriage debt is not thereby excluded. In order that marriage be valid it is absolutely necessary to give and receive the exclusive and perpetual right to the marriage debt. (Canon 1081.) The perpetual and exclusive right to the marriage debt means that it cannot be given only for a period of time, but must last as long as the marriage, i. e. till death comes to one or the other party to the marriage. The exclusive right to the marriage debt means that it cannot be shared with other persons while the marriage endures.

11. Can a woman who is found to be sterile have her marriage annulled in order to allow her husband to marry someone else?

No. A marriage is not made null, void, or illicit because of sterility. She will always be his wife until he or she dies.

12. Your literature on marriage speaks frequently of unity and indissolubility.

Unity means that marriage can take place only between one man and one woman, whilst indissolubility means that this monogamous union must last till the bond is sundered by death.

13. Is unity and indissolubility demanded by a positive Law of God?

Yes. That positive law was revealed to mankind by Christ when He said: “For this cause shall a man leave father and mother and shall cleave to his wife, and they two shall be in one flesh. Therefore now they are not two, but one flesh. What therefore God hath joined together let no man put asunder.” Mt. 19:6.

14. How, then, do you explain that the Patriarchs had many wives and the Jews were allowed to divorce and marry again?

After the deluge the unity of marriage was suspended by God for the benefit of the Patriarchs in order to increase the human race. Moses permitted the Jews to practice divorce “because of the hardness of their hearts.” Marriage today has been thrown back by the Reformers to what it was before it had been corrected and reformed by Jesus Christ. The non-Catholic attitude today is no different than the Jewish attitude which was certainly rebuked by Christ. Christ pointed out that the Mosaic sanction was a concession which was contrary to the original institution of marriage, for He revoked both concessions when He said “from the beginning it was not so.”

15. Does not Christ allow divorce for fornication as mentioned in Mt. 19:9?

No. Protestant scholars today deny the interpretation given to this text by the Reformers. Christ did not make fornication, or marital infidelity, a case for divorce, but only for separation. He specifically says here that a husband divorcing his wife for adultery and marrying another “commits adultery,” and the second man who marries that divorced woman is not married to her at ail, for he too, is committing adultery by living with the wife of another man. Where would the sin of adultery come in if marriage is not indissoluble and were the separated parties not still man and wife?

16. But Protestant Churches teach today that this text allows absolute divorce.

How can this text be so interpreted when Christ was so clear about it that the Jews replied to Him: “if the case of a man with his wife be so, (i. e. no privilege of remarriage) it is not expedient to marry.” In other words if a man cannot divorce an adulterous wife and marry another-then what’s the use or sense of getting married if that’s to be the law? St. Mk. 10:11, St. Lk. 16:18, and St. Paul 1 Cor. 7:10 make no exception to the new law. All three say that separated married couples must “remain unmarried,” otherwise they would be guilty of adultery. St. Jerome (340–420) should have known the true law of the Apostolic age. He writes: “As long as the husband is alive, even though he be an adulterer . . . and is deserted by his wife for his crimes, (i. e. drunkenness, good-for-nothingness, etc.) he is still her husband, and she may not take another . . . Whether she puts her husband away, or is put away by her husband, whosoever shall take her is an adulterer.” (Epis. 55.)

17. Are there no exceptions whatsoever to the prohibition of divorce?

Yes. There are two exceptions (1) marriage between infidels, (2) unconsummated marriage between two baptized or one baptized and one unbaptized person. The first is called the Pauline Privilege which allows the dissolution of marriage contracted between two unbaptized persons, one of whom becomes a convert to Christianity, whilst the other refuses to be converted or live in peace with the convert. In this instance the convert is free to marry a Christian, and at the moment of the second marriage the bond of the first marriage is completely dissolved. (1 Cor. 7:12–15.) In the case of unconsummated marriage between two baptized persons, or between a baptized and an unbaptized person such marriages can be dissolved by entering a Religious Order and also by dispensation of the Pope.

18. What do you mean by a ratified marriage?

It is a marriage contracted validly between two baptized persons, but unconsummated (not yet entered into by their wedlock). A ratified and consummated marriage is one which has been validly contracted between two baptized persons and the parties thereto have exercised the marriage debt, entered their wedlock or, in other words, have become “one flesh.”

19. By what power does the Pope dissolve a merely ratified marriage?

He does so by the power of the keys, “Whatsoever you shall bind upon earth shall be bound in Heaven, etc.”

20. Why can a merely ratified marriage be dissolved, but a ratified consummated marriage cannot? Because Christ was speaking of those who had become one flesh; “therefore they are not two, but one flesh. What therefore God hath joined together, let no man put asunder.” Mt. 19:6. The union of Christ and His Church spoken of by St. Paul can only be represented by a ratified and consummated marriage. The union of Christ with His Church is indissoluble, and so is the union of a Christian man and woman who have become one flesh.

21. Are civilly divorced people who have remarried really married?

If their first marriage is a true marriage, their second marriage is not a marriage but a state of adultery, for the two of the first marriage are still husband and wife, according to the natural and the positive law of God.

22. 1 cannot possibly get along with my husband who is a drunkard. What can I do?

You can have recourse to the bishop of the diocese through your pastor for a temporary or a perpetual separation. The causes for a temporary separation are the grave dangers to soul or body inflicted by your husband. As for perpetual separation there is only one cause, namely adultery committed by one of the married partners, and not condoned by the other. In this latter case the Catholic can, with permission of the bishop, obtain a civil divorce to protect herself civilly against the guilty party. After a divorce allowed for civil protection, neither party can marry again, while both are alive: “To them that are married, not I, but the Lord commandeth that the wife depart not from her husband. And if she depart that she remain unmarried, or be reconciled to her husband. And let not the husband put away his wife.” (1 Cor. 7:10.)

23. Banns of marriage. What are they?

Banns come from the English word which means “to summon.” In Canon Law banns are public announcements of future marriages. They must be proclaimed on three successive Sundays or feast days of obligation, during Divine service. They are announced in order to discover if both parties to the pending marriage are free to marry. The banns between two Catholics are announced in the parish where the marriage is to take place, as well as in the parishes of both parties, if they live in different parishes.

24. Some Catholics seem dispensed from this law.

Some may be dispensed by the bishop, if he thinks there is sufficient reason. Note this that a dispensation from the banns does not “cost” anything. It is not a question of buying and selling. But a tax is placed on those who wish this exception and this tax goes to defray the expenses of the Chancery Office.

25. Are people obliged to reveal that such a party is not free to marry?

Yes, there is a serious obligation to reveal what is known to stand in the way of a lawful and valid marriage.

26. Who has the right to celebrate marriage?

The pastor of the bride has the preference, though both the pastor of the bride and the pastor of the groom are competent to arrange for the marriage, and also to perform the ceremony. (Canon 1097, 2.) They may be married either in the parish of the groom; or in some other parish only by permission of the pastor of the bride.

27. Why do pastors ask so much before a marriage?

It is the duty of the pastor or delegated priest to ask separately both the man and the woman whether they are under any impediment, whether they freely consent to marry, and whether they are sufficiently instructed in Christian doctrine, and realize the nature and responsibilities of marriage. He shall also admonish them to make a good Confession and to receive Holy Communion.

28. Does disease make up an impediment to marriage?

No. Nevertheless justice demands that when parties to the marriage are afflicted with especially infectious or contagious disease, it should be told the other party, since the happiness of marriage relies in large measure upon the health of both.

29. What papers are needed to get married?

Besides the civil license each party must furnish the pastor or delegated priest with a baptismal certificate and a statement from his or her pastor that there is no impediment to the marriage.

30. Why a baptismal record?

The Canon Law prescribes that when anyone marries or is ordained, or makes solemn religious profession, or has a marriage declared null, a record of these things must be made in the baptismal record. Thus, when a baptismal certificate is furnished by the pastor he sees at once any recorded impediment to the marriage. The baptism certificate is required even of a non-Catholic in the case of mixed marriages. N. B. In cases of mixed marriages the banns of marriage are not announced.

31. Where does your Church get her authority to regulate marriages of baptized persons?

From Jesus Christ Who gave her the power to bind and to loose, and Who made her the sole authority over the Sacrament of Matrimony. It is outside the jurisdiction of civil authority to regulate the Sacrament of Baptism. The State has no authority over the bond of marriage among the baptized, but it is able to legislate with regard to the civil effects of marriages.

32. What is an impediment of marriage?

It is a circumstance, which renders the marriage contract unlawful or invalid. The Church, by reason of her sole jurisdiction over the sacrament of marriage, designates what impedes the natural law and the Divine positive law for reason of the private and public good. She classifies impediments as prohibitive and nullifying impediments. A prohibitive impediment is a grave prohibition to marry, but if the marriage is contracted it is valid, though sinful or illicit. A nullifying impediment is a grave prohibition to marry, and makes the marriage, if attempted, invalid.

33. Name the prohibitive impediments.

They are the vow not to marry, the vow of virginity, the vow of perfect chastity, the vow to receive Holy Orders, and the vow to embrace the religious life. In addition to these there are the impediments of mixed religion and legal adoption, in places where the civil law makes the latter relation a prohibitive impediment. The impediment of mixed religion arises when two baptized persons, one being Catholic, and the other a member of an heretical or schismatical sect, undertake marriage. The impediment of legal adoption occurs when the civil law forbids marriage between the adopter and the adopted. Then the Church also recognizes this as prohibitory. Where the civil law recognizes adoption as a nullifying impediment the Church does also. In the United States no State makes legal adoption an impediment of marriage.

34. How about Condemned societies as the Freemasons?

Membership in condemned societies is not included in the list of prohibitive impediments. The Church however, warns against marriages with such members, and also apostates, and those of bad reputation. The Ordinary or Bishop for grave reasons may permit such a marriage, but only under the same guarantee as prescribed for mixed marriages.

35. What are the nullifying impediments to marriage?

They are: age, impotence, existing marriage, Holy Orders, solemn vow, difference of worship, crime, consanguinity, public decency, affinity, abduction, spiritual relationship, and legal adoption in places where the civil law nullifies such a marriage.

36. Explain the impediment of age-impotence-existing marriage, etc.

(1) The impediment of age means that a valid marriage cannot take pace unless a male has completed his sixteenth year, and a female her fourteenth year. (2) Impotence means the incapacity to perform the marriage act in a manner suitable for the procreation of children. (3) Existing marriage means that a person already validly married cannot marry another person while his partner is alive. (4) Holy Orders is an impediment of the Latin Church which renders marriage invalid for all those who have received at least Sub-deaconship. (5) Difference of worship or disparity of worship is an impediment occurring between a person baptized in the Catholic Church and an unbaptized person. Since May 19 1918 marriages between baptized non-Catholics with unbaptized persons are no longer held as invalid because of disparity of worship. (6) Solemn vow impediment is a solemn vow of chastity taken in a religious order. (7) Crime is a three-fold impediment; (a) it exists between those who commit adultery with a mutual promise of marriage, or who attempt marriage, even civilly; (b) between those who have committed adultery if validly married to another, one of whom kills his or her lawful married partner; (c) and between two persons who have agreed in causing death of either’s married partner, even though they have not committed adultery. (8) Consanguinity or blood relationship, invalidates marriage in all degrees of the direct line, ascending and descending whether legitimate or natural, and to the third degree inclusively of the collateral, or indirect line, not, as formerly, to the fourth degree. (9) Affinity arises between a husband and the blood relations of his wife to the second degree of the indirect line and in every degree of the direct line. In other words a man cannot marry the mother or sister or niece of his deceased wife. (10) Public decency occurs when a person who contracted an invalid marriage or who is living in open notorious concubinage attempts marriage with a person related in the direct line to the paramour. Thus a man bound by this impediment cannot marry the daughter or granddaughter, mother, or grandmother of the woman with whom he contracted an invalid marriage or with whom he has lived in open and notorious concubinage. (11) Impediment of abduction is the violent taking away or retention of a woman by a man with view to marriage. (12) Spiritual relationship arises only from the Sacrament of Baptism and nullifies marriage between the sponsors and the person baptized, and between the person baptizing and the person baptized, (not however between the baptizer and the sponsors, or between the sponsors and the parents of the person baptized).

37. Can a Dispensation be obtained for any of these nullifying impediments?

Impediments which are of the natural law, as impotence, and impediments of the Divine law, as the bond rising from a consummated, sacramental marriage, cannot be dispensed. Impediments of the ecclesiastical law, as such, the Pope has the power to dispense but some are never dispensed and others only most rarely, or very rarely.

38. Why is a marriage indissoluble or undivorceable?

The natural law prescribes that husband and wife remain united for the proper attainment of the objects of marriage namely the procreation and education of children, and mutual help. The Divine positive law explicitly forbids divorce with the privilege of remarriage. (Mt. 19:6; 1 Cor. 7:10; Rom. 7:2, 3.) The whole tradition of the Church is contrary to the revolution against that tradition.

39. Does Your Church teach the equality of husband and wife with relation to conjugal life?

“Both husband and wife from the very beginning of marriage have the same rights and duties with respect to the proper acts of the conjugal life.” (Canon 1111.) The Church looks upon the wife as a consort, companion and helpmate of her husband, and not as his slave or handmaid.

40. Why should the husband be declared to be the head of the house?

St. Paul answers in these words: “I would have you know that the head of every man is Christ, and the head of the woman is the man.” (Cor. 11:3.) He declares the wife is obliged to be subject to her husband: “Let women be subject to their husbands, as to the Lord.” (Eph. 5:22.) To husbands he commands: “Husbands love your wives, as Christ loved the Church, and delivered Himself up for it . . . you, fathers provoke not your children to anger, but bring them up in the discipline and correction of the Lord.” (Eph. 5:25; 6:4.)

41. Why does your Church claim that widowhood is more blessed than a second marriage?

St. Paul, who never married, counselled others to imitate his conduct: “I say to the unmarried, and to widows, it is good for them if they so continue, even as I . . . A woman is bound by the law as long as her husband liveth. But if her husband die she is at liberty. Let her marry whom she will, only in the Lord. But more blessed shall she be if she so remain, according to my counsel. And I think that I also have the spirit of God.” (1 Cor. 7–8, 39, 40.) Also for the widower he says, “Art thou bound to a wife? Seek not to be loosed. Art thou loosed from a wife? Seek not a wife.” (1 Cor. 7:27.) The early Church frowned on second marriages and those who married the second time were called bigamists, not in the sense of simultaneous bigamy, but in the literal sense of successive bigamy, or twice lawfully married. Some of the Greek Fathers of the early Church held that remarriage was contrary to the ideal taught by St. Paul. But St. Paul gave this merely as evangelical counsel for the more blessed state. He advocated second marriage when it is difficult to control passion, for speaking of youthful widows he said: “I will therefore, that the younger should marry, bear children, be mistresses of families, lest occasion be given to the adversary to speak evil.” (1 Tim. 5:14.) There is no apparent contradiction in the advice of St. Paul for circumstances may alter the individual case. The attitude of the Church in this regard has changed because second marriages today have no longer the aspect of being less perfect as a result of the general weakening of the Christian concept of marriage. Vestiges of the ancient attitude of the Church towards second marriages are seen today when the Church declares a special irregularity to taking Sacred Orders is contracted by those who have been married twice and when a woman who has received the solemn nuptial blessing in her first marriage is not allowed to receive it in her second marriage.

42. How can married partners ever be separated?

Separation may be complete or a dissolution from the marriage bond; or it may effect only an incomplete dissolution of married life from bed and board; that is, while the couple may live apart the bond of marriage still holds and remains. The bond of a valid marriage between two baptized persons cannot be dissolved by any earthly power, and for no cause save death, once such a marriage has been consummated. But, the bond of marriage between two baptized persons which has not been consummated, can be dissolved by the Pope, and also by taking solemn vows in a Religious Order. (Canon 1119). These are the only instances of valid separation from the bond of a ratified, Christian marriage.

43. Does the Pauline Privilege merely hold for infidels?

Yes, the Pauline Privilege always supposes a marriage which has been contracted between two infidels, or unbaptized persons, or “unbelievers.” St. Paul Cor. 7:12, states, “But if the unbeliever depart, let him depart. For a brother or a sister is not under servitude in such cases. But God hath called us in peace.” The Pauline Privilege cannot be used when a Catholic marries an unbaptized person. Marriage contracted between two unbaptized persons is called a legitimate marriage, to distinguish it from a valid and ratified marriage, which is contracted between two baptized persons. (Canon 1015.)

44. Isn’t the Pauline Privilege nothing else than divorce with the privilege of remarriage?

Yes, it is truly a divorce from the bond of a legitimate marriage, but it is an exception made by Divine authority. This legitimate marriage between two non-baptized, even though consummated, is dissolved by the Pauline Privilege.

45. What are the requisites to be had for using this privilege?

The marriage must have been contracted in the time of infidelity between two unbaptized persons, and it is necessary that the converted and baptized partner should inquire of the unconverted partner (1) whether he or she is willing to be converted or, if not, (2) whether he or she is at least willing to cohabit peaceably without blasphemy of the Creator. (Canon 1121.) If the infidel refuses then the baptized party can enter a new marriage with a Catholic.

46. Are couples obliged to live always together?

Married partners must observe the common life unless excused by an incomplete separation from bed and board duly authorized. There are in general two kinds of incomplete separation; perpetual and temporary separation. They may separate from mutual consent, or through the fault of one party. But in incomplete separation the bond of marriage always remains. Partners may separate through mutual consent when either party wishes to enter into Religion, or the husband wishes to enter Holy Orders. Another case for perpetual separation is had on account of the adultery of one married partner, the other partner has the right of ceasing to live the common life even perpetually, the bond of marriage remaining. If the crime is certain the innocent party may separate from the guilty party on his own authority. The innocent party is never obliged to receive back the guilty party to cohabit.

47. Can married partners separate temporarily?

Yes. If one partner joins a non-Catholic sect; if he educates his children as non-Catholics; if he leads a shameful and criminal life; if he is an occasion of grave danger to the soul or body of the other partner; if through his cruelty the conjugal life is rendered intolerable. These and other causes of like nature are, for either partner, legitimate causes of separation. (Canon 1131.)

48. Is it not true that your Church does not grant divorce but you have annulments which are just as bad? You, like many enemies of the Church, do not know the difference between annulment and divorce. A complete divorce means the dissolution of the bond of a true valid marriage (the breaking up-the rendering asunder what God has joined together); a declaration of nullity means that the bond of a supposed marriage never existed (God had never joined them together-it means the man and woman were never husband and wife.) You must remember that a valid sacramental marriage contracted between two baptized persons, which has been consummated, cannot be dissolved by any human power, and for no cause save death. Two classes of marriages which are really valid can be dissolved, not by the parties themselves, but by the authority of the Church, namely sacramental unconsummated marriages, and the legitimate marriages of the unbaptized under the Pauline Privilege.

49. On what grounds does your Church make the declaration that a marriage was never a marriage? Declaration of nullity is based upon the invalidating impediments arising from the natural, divine, or ecclesiastical or Church laws, which existed between the partners at the moment of entering the marriage contract, or essential defects in the form, or solemnity of marriage. The grounds for nullity are: (1) The parties did not agree to marry. (2) The parties were not free to marry. (3) The parties did not freely marry. (4) The parties did not observe the necessary form, or solemnity of marriage.

50. What might be some examples of such instances?

A renowned case for the ground that the parties did not agree to marry is the Guglielmo Marconi and Lady Beatrice O’Brien case. Read “Radio Replies” for the explanation. A case for the ground that the parties did not freely marry is the Duke of Marlborough and Consuelo Vanderbilt case also explained fully in “Radio Replies.” The laws of the Church apply for baptized non-Catholics as well as Catholics. The Marconi-O’Brien and Vanderbilt-Marlborough cases are instances of baptized Protestants applying for a declaration of nullity from the Church.

51. By what authority does your Church judge cases of Protestants?

The Catholic Church has the authority to judge in all cases of baptized persons. You must remember that the Church does not handle the marriage cases of baptized non-Catholics, unless the parties themselves request her to do so.

52. Doesn’t your Church multiply impediments to give the faithful reasons for divorce?

Not at all. The Catholic Church is not anxious to multiply her burdens and marriage cases clutter up the desk of every Chancery Office in the land-so why increase her burden of trials? The impediments of the natural, divine, and ecclesiastical laws will be found logical, reasonable and protective to social welfare and individual happiness.

53. Is it true that money can buy a declaration of nullity from Rome?

King Henry VIII had access to the treasury of England to buy an annulment of his first marriage, but the Pope could not be bought off with money, and because of this England started a Church of her own. Miss Gould with her millions could have bought off the Pope, but she was told that she was the wife until the death of Castellani. You will notice that the cases of the poor who have their cases annulled and who have not the means to pay even the court expenditures don’t get their cases flashed in the headlines of our newspapers.

54. Well don’t you have a scandalous number of marriages declared null and void?

There are 431,000,000 members of the Roman Catholic Church under the jurisdiction of the Pope. The decrees of nullity granted by the Roman Rota over a period of years had the surprisingly low figure of 16 for a yearly average of decrees of nullity.

55. Why does the Catholic Church forbid mixed marriages?

For many reasons. Marriage is a sacrament, and those who desire to receive that sacrament should be duly and validly baptized Christians. The Church, however, has no certainty that any non-Catholic has ever been validly baptized at all. Again, it is a sacrilege to receive a sacrament whilst one is in a state of grave sin. The Catholic party prepares by a good Confession, whilst the non-Catholic more often than not gives no thought whatever to the matter. Then, too, any children of the marriage have the bad example of one of the parents who never fulfills Catholic duties, even if the poor children be brought up as Catholics at all. The Catholic party is constantly subject to discouragement in the practice of his or her religion, and is even exposed to the danger of a complete loss of faith and of salvation in the end. Nor are mixed marriages, as a rule, in the interests of the parties themselves from the point of view of mutual happiness. Marriage is difficult enough in any case when the first glow of love begins to settle down to the realties of life. It is vastly more difficult when the Protestant does not understand Catholic ways, has no sympathy at all with the Catholic party on the most vital of all matters-religion, and even resents the claims of the Catholic Church. Mutual misunderstandings result, and the Protestant, not making the Catholic as happy as he expected, does not make himself as happy as he dreamed.

56. Would Christ be so intolerant?

He would sanction all prudent measures for the good of souls. In the Old Law God gave drastic laws and penalties affecting those of the true religion who tried to contract mixed marriages, and the Catholic Church is but similarly zealous for the true religion of Christ.

57. I have heard that the Church openly forbids mixed marriages, but secretly fosters them to secure the control of the children.

That is not true. The Catholic Church has never fostered mixed marriages, and barely tolerates them when she can do nothing else. She permits such marriages under protest, because she is losing on the average of 100,000 children in the U.S.A. a year and in ten years 1,000,000 children, who, in general, as a result of such marriages grow up to be neither Catholics nor Protestants. This is one of the reasons why 60,000,000 Americans today have no affiliation with any Church or Synagogue.

58. Where does the Bible forbid mixed marriages?

It would not matter if the Bible did not forbid them. Not every detail of Christian practice is there. Christ gave the Church the power to make such legislation as she might think necessary at various times. However, that God does not approve mixed marriages between people with the true religion and people without it is clear from Scripture. In the Old Testament He strictly forbade the Jews to marry outside the true religion. “If you embrace the errors of these nations that dwell among you, and make marriages with them, and join friendships. . . . they shall be a pit and a snare in your way, and a stumbling block in your side. . . . till He take you and destroy you from this land which He hath given you.” Joshua XXIII., 13–14. St. Paul, writing to Christians, says that a widow is free to marry, “but,” he adds, “let her marry in the Lord.” 1 Cor. VIL, 39. In dealing with marriage in general, he writes to the Ephesians, “But I speak in Christ and in the Church.” Eph. V., 32. He gives the solemn warning as regards marriage with unbelivers, “How knowest thou, O wife; whether thou shalt save thy husband? Or how knowest thou, O man, whether thou shalt save thy wife? 1 Cor. VIL, 16. The Divine Law as made known by St. Paul says that Christians must not “bear the yoke (of marriage) with unbelievers.” 1 Cor. 6:14.

59. What are the conditions required for a mixed marriage?

The Church will not dispense from this impediment, except under the following conditions: 1. There must be just and grave reasons for granting the dispensation. 2. The non-Catholic party must guarantee that he or she shall remove all danger of perversion from the Catholic party, and both parties shall bind themselves by guarantees to baptize and educate all their children in the Catholic faith only. 3. There must be moral certainty that the guarantees will be fulfilled. Through these guarantees danger to the faith is made as remote as possible. These demanded guarantees gravely oblige both parties in conscience as long as the parties live. These guarantees are made in writing, and signed by both parties.

The Catholic party is also under obligation to try by prudent means to procure the conversion of the non-Catholic to the Catholic faith in order to best secure the observance of the guarantees.

60. Do not mixed marriages serve as a source of conversions to the Catholic Church?

There have been and are many mixed marriages where the guarantees have been faithfully fulfilled but it may be doubted whether there have been many really happy mixed marriages. Marriage is difficult enough without having difference of religion as the occasion of constant squabble. The Church tolerates such marriages as the lesser of two evils, or to prevent greater evils, and to avoid invalid marriages.

61. What are the reasons for allowing mixed marriage?

Ate example may be (a) if a mixed marriage would be of great assistance to the welfare of the Catholic religion as in the case of royalty or nobility; (b) if there is a hope that the conversion of the non-Catholic or his family will take place; (c) if a mixed marriage is the only way to avoid scandal or (d) if there is danger of marrying before a minister or justice of the peace.

62. Why can’t a Catholic ceremony and a Protestant ceremony be allowed?

Canon 1063 says: “Even though a dispensation has been obtained from the impediment of mixed religion the consorts cannot, either before or after the marriage entered into before the Church, approach either personally or by proxy a non-Catholic minister, acting in his religious capacity, to give or to renew their matrimonial consent.” Hence the Church forbids two ceremonies, one before a priest, and the other before a minister, acting as such. Catholics who violate this canon of the law incur excommunication, and absolution from this censure is reserved to the Bishop.

63. What helps do you suggest to prevent mixed marriages?

(1) A conviction of not compromising Catholic faith; (2) development of greater friendship among Catholics than we have at present; (3) societies, clubs and socials ought to be fostered for bringing young Catholics of both sexes together; (4) public prayers in Church that all Catholics desirous of marriage might have this brought definitely home to themselves.

64. Why should religion come before marriage?

Because marriage is not the most important thing in life, whereas religion is.

65. Catholic men know that Protestant wives are best. Why prevent them from having the best wives? Good Catholic men who desire to marry Protestant women never think of them as Protestants except to wish that they had been Catholics. They do all in their power to persuade them to become Catholics. They love them at times for their character or because they have happened to meet them at the psychological moment when they were romantically inclined. Or even at times they only think they love. There are many explanations, but never yet has a Catholic man loved and wanted a girl precisely because she is a Protestant. He may love her. He has never loved her Protestantism.

66. Why do Catholic women make such bad wives for Protestant husbands? They, seem so proud and selfish. Good Catholic women often make bad wives for Protestant husbands. But it is not because they are proud and selfish. Their religion teaches them humility and self-denial. But the same religion teaches that a Catholic may not give way one jot or tittle in matters of Catholic obligations. The deepest thing in man is his religious conviction. If two people marry and have no religious sympathy, are alien to each other on that point, then each will say and do a dozen things daily that will disgust and further alienate the other. The Protestant party has not the same principles nor the same rigid conviction as the Catholic. He makes concessions and expects the Catholic to do the same. Very often the Catholic cannot and is accused of pride and selfishness. Peace goes and the Protestant is sorry he ever married a Catholic. It all comes from the difference in religion. I would advise every Protestant man who is determined never to become a Catholic to choose a wife from among his fellow Protestants. A Catholic wife is suitable for a Catholic but often makes a bad wife for a Protestant.

67. If a Protestant marries a Catholic will the Catholic Church recognize that marriage at all? Yes, provided it takes place according to Catholic rites.

68. Marriage is a contract between the parties themselves. Why should they have to be married in the Catholic Church?

Marriage is a public as well as a private contract, and society rightly insists upon public conditions for validity. And since marriage is also a Christian Sacrament committed to the care of the Church, the Church reasonably and properly lays down the conditions for the lawful and valid reception of that sacrament.

69. Catholics cannot attend a Protestant Church. How can the Protestant marry in the Catholic Church? To be married by a priest is not against the principles of a Protestant who says that one religion is as good as another; but it is against the principles of a Catholic to be married by a Protestant minister. If it were against the principles of some given Protestant, he should stick to his principles and refuse to be married in a Catholic Church. But in this case both parties would refuse, and the marriage would be cancelled.

70. What would the Catholic Church do to a Catholic who marries in the Protestant Church?

The Catholic Church regards her as a lapsed Catholic. Whilst still obliged to attend Mass, she is not allowed to receive the sacraments. Individual Catholics would be obliged to treat her kindly and with charity. She would not therefore be treated badly personally or insulted. It is a matter for her own soul. She cuts herself off from the grace of God, and forfeits her right to the spiritual privileges of her religion.

71. I have known priests to worry Catholics who have married outside the Catholic Church.

A priest has the obligation to try to save souls, and he has to inspire Catholics to observe the laws of their Church. If a Catholic is living as the Catholic conscience forbids, a priest would be little like Christ if he simply left that soul to perish. And after all, the priest would find it much more pleasant to sit at home enjoying a quiet book and allowing his flock to go its own way. But what sort of a shepherd would he be? You should admire the priest who is a man of duty.

72. Would the Catholic Church recognize a marriage between a Catholic and a Protestant before a Justice of the Peace?

From the aspect of civil law the parties would contract certain civil obligations. But before God and in conscience the marriage would not be valid, and the Catholic party would be living in a sinful alliance, violating her conscience. She would be deprived of the sacraments of the Church until she repented and had her marriage rectified according to the laws of the Church.

73. You dare to say that no marriage outside the Church is a true marriage; that the Catholic party is living in sin, and that the children are not acceptable in decent society?

You make one mistake. The Catholic Church does not say that the children are not acceptable in decent society. Civil society is regulated by civil law, and a marriage legal in civil law obtains legal effects. Children of such a marriage are legitimate and acceptable in civil society. But whilst the marriage is regarded as legal by society, it is not valid in conscience for a Catholic, and such a person lives in sin. A marriage which civil law regards as valid need not necessarily be valid in God’s sight. No state on earth could possibly prove such a claim to infallibility. All marriages of non-Catholics outside the Catholic Church are considered valid unless they are proved to be invalid.

74. By a recent law, made by men in 1908, your Church makes it a sin for a Catholic to marry in a Protestant Church.

It has always been a sin for a Catholic to marry in a Protestant Church. But in America, prior to April 19, 1908, such marriages, though sinful, were regarded as valid by the Catholic Church. Since 1908 such marriages are invalid. If a Catholic wishes to contract a valid marriage now, he must do so in the Catholic Church. This law is not a new law. Wherever the Church was solidly established, the Church applied this law. And the law was applied to America on April 19, 1908, by what is known as the Ne Temere Decree. As for its being a man-made law, you forget that Christ commissioned His Church to legislate for the well-being of the sacraments, and of those who would receive them. If the state can say, “Unless you come before my Registrar, your marriage will be regarded as null and void,” so the Catholic Church can say, “Unless your marriage comes before my official minister, as far as I am concerned, I shall consider it no marriage.” And God sanctions the view of the Church in this matter rather than any legislation of the state. Christ elevated the natural contract of matrimony to the dignity of a sacrament, and it is as much a sacrament as Baptism, Confirmation, Ordination, or any other. And as such it belongs to the Church.

75. Why come between two lovers? God says love one another as I have loved you.

That we must love as God has loved us shows at once that not any kind of love is lawfully indulged. Christ never loved us so as to break God’s laws because of us. Such love would be unlawful. God and conscience come first always. No human love can come before one’s love for God, and he who loves God observes the laws of His religion.

76. Civil law says that the marriage of a Catholic and a Protestant in a Protestant Church is valid. Why don’t you acknowledge the law of the land?

The state holds the marriage to be valid in state law. And all Catholics hold the marriage to be civilly legal. But the state says nothing whatever about God’s view of the matter, and the Catholic Church declares the marriage null and void before God, and therefore in conscience. Even after that declaration, if the parties do not get a civil divorce, they cannot marry other people without bigamy in civil law. So you see that civil law is not affected as such.

77. I mean, why don’t you acknowledge civil law as binding before God and in conscience.

We acknowledge that in the case of each and every law which does not conflict with the law of Christ. In the matter of marriage there are laws which conflict with the law of Christ, and these state laws are not valid before God. As I have said, if every state law is necessarily the law of God, then you claim infallibility for the state, an infallibility you deny to the Catholic Church with scorn on the principle that there is no infallible body of men on earth. In every instance a Catholic in practice observes the same procedure as a non-Catholic in his conformity of exterior conduct to the law.

78. Render to Caesar the things that are Caesar’s!

A state law opposed to the law of God is not rightly the thing of Caesar, and insofar as it is thus opposed to the law of God in conscience, it is to be ignored. Obedience must be rendered to God rather than to the state.

79. How can the Catholic Church hope to win the confidence and respect of non-Catholics?

She does not hope to do so if it means watering down Christian obligations. Christ could have kept many of His Jewish followers by saying that He did not mean His words, “The bread which I shall give is My flesh.” The Jews said, “This is a hard saying. Who can accept it?” But Christ let them go rather than keep them by modifying His doctrine. The Catholic Church does likewise. If men say, “This is a hard saying,” the Church will never modify Christian obligations in order to win them. She is here to accommodate men to Christian teaching, not to accommodate Christian ideals to the moods of men.

80. If two married Protestants both become Catholics, have they to be married again in the Catholic Church? No. They were both Protestants at the time of their marriage, and the Catholic Church declares such marriages to be binding before God.

81. If two Protestants, married in a Protestant Church, get a divorce, could one of the parties marry a Catholic in the Catholic Church provided he or she becomes a Catholic?

No. The marriage of two Protestants in a Protestant Church is valid before God, and nothing can dissolve that marriage except the death of one of the parties. Divorce does not give even such Protestants the right to marry again whilst both parties are still living. And becoming a Catholic has no effect upon the validity of such a marriage. From this reply you can discern the positive refutation of that old canard told and spread around that we Catholics teach that all marriages of Protestants are cases of adultery. When two baptized Protestants marry they marry not only according to contract but also according to the Sacrament of Matrimony. They are united in that sacrament, whether they believe it or not, since they are baptized Christians and their marriage is indissoluble until the death of either party.

82. If a Catholic did marry outside the Catholic Church, would Christ cast a stain upon little children held up by him to be the essence of goodness and innocence?

Christ would cast no stain upon them. Nor does the Catholic Church. Their goodness and innocence are not affected. But note this. The state says, “Unless you observe my laws your marriage will not be lawful wedlock, and your children will be illegitimate.” On your principle, the state has no right to cast such a slur on innocent little children, and has no right to lay down any conditions of marriage, but must sanction promiscuous cohabitation as being quite all right.

83. Tell me plainly. Are the children of a mixed marriage outside the Catholic Church illegitimate? What is an illegitimate child? Simply one born of a union which is not legal. If the marriage is legal, the children are legitimate. Now granted that a mixed marriage is legal according to civil law, the children are legitimate according to that law. No Catholic would dispute, for example, such a child’s claim to a legal inheritance. But the marriage is not legal according to the laws of the Catholic Church. Are the children, then, illegitimate in Catholic law? If both or either of the parties thought they were contracting a valid marriage the children are legitimate. It is all a matter of law. And Catholic law declares that the children of a marriage invalid in itself, yet in which one of the parties at least is in good faith, are to be held as legitimate.

84. Can the child of a mixed marriage outside the Church go to Heaven?

If the child is brought up as a Protestant it has the same chance as any Protestant in similar circumstances from other points of view. If brought up as a Catholic, it has the additional helps of the Catholic religion just as any other Catholic child, except that it has the bad example of a non-Catholic parent ignoring obligations which the child is taught to be essential, and the weak faith in many cases of a Catholic who thinks so little of her religion as to marry outside the Church.

85. Why sanction a mixed marriage at all in the Catholic Church? Is the Church afraid of losing the Catholic? Or the money?

It is not a question of the money. If the conditions demanded by the Church are not fulfilled, $100,000 would not secure the marriage according to Catholic rites. Nor is the Church afraid of losing one of her members. She is afraid that one of her members will lose the advantages of the Catholic faith and perhaps her soul. The loss of one person out of 431 million members does not affect the Church very much from the point of view of members. But the loss to such a soul will not bear description. The Church sanctions such a marriage when there are reasons grave enough to warrant risking the dangers attached to mixed marriages. But she takes every precaution by exacting promises that the Catholic will be free to practice her religion, that all children will be Catholics, and that the Catholic party will set a good example and do her best to convert the non-Catholic party.

86. Could the Pope, besides giving a dispensation for a mixed marriage, dispense from the obligation of bringing up the children as Catholics?

No. It is divine law that no Catholic may hand over any child to what he or she knows to be a false religion.

87. Why must the Protestant promise that all children will be Catholics?

You must try to see this through Catholic eyes. A non-Catholic does not, as a rule, believe that his is the only true religion, and on the principle that one religion is as good as another, his conscience does not forbid that his children should be brought up in the Catholic religion. But a Catholic is in a very different position. He believes that his is the only true religion, and does not believe that one religion is as good as another. Now how can a Catholic in conscience hand over his children to what he knows to be a wrong religion? How say, “I shall have all the benefits of the true religion, but my children won’t!” Or, “God will be worshipped by me in the way He commands, but not by my children!” Even God could not authorize a Catholic to cling to the true faith himself, yet deny that faith to his children. Without securing the promises no Catholic could conscientiously enter upon such a marriage.

88. Should not the children be of the mother’s faith?

No. The children must be brought up in the Catholic faith, whether it be the faith of the husband or of the wife. A religion is not true because it is the religion of the wife. If so, then when the wife is Lutheran, Lutheranism would be true; when a Christian Scientist, Christian Science would be true; when Catholic, Catholicism would be true! Again, if a man married a Catholic and had three children of the marriage, they would have to be Catholics, and would have the true religion because their mother was a Catholic. If she died, and the man married a Seventh Day Adventist, further children would have to be Seventh Day Adventists, and would have the true religion because their mother was an Adventist. So three children would call the Pope the Vicar of Christ, and the others would call him the Beast and Anti-Christ, and all would be right!

89. That all must be Catholics is very one-sided in favor of the Catholic Church!

It must seem like that to you, but in reality it is not. Parents cooperate with God in giving existence to children. But why is any man at all created? That he may save his soul and attain Heaven. Marriage therefore has as its chief purpose the creating and training of children for their eternal destiny. And religion is therefore all important. Now the Catholic believes that there is but one true religion. It does not matter whether others agree or not. And he believes that all other religions are wrong. Again it does not matter whether others agree or not. That is the Catholic conscience. It follows that no Catholic can in conscience consent to hand over his children to what he believes to be a false religion. Nor can a Catholic say, “Give me the girls and you take the boys.” The soul of a boy is just as dear to God as the soul of a girl. There can be no compromise. As for the one-sidedness, look at things this way: The Protestant who believes that one religion is as good as another need not mind if the children are brought up as Catholics. He does not violate his conscience and does not ask the Catholic to violate hers. They are square. The fact that the Catholic Church feels bound in conscience to demand all the children shows that she is conscious of having the truth and being the true Church. The fact that Protestants do not demand the children shows that they are not really conscious of possessing the truth.

90. If a Catholic cannot sign away the children, how can a Protestant do so?

If a Protestant wants to marry a Catholic, and his conscience does not protest against it, he may sign the promise in regard to the children. But if the Protestant really believed the Catholic faith to be evil, and that his personal religion was the only true religion, then he has no right to promise that any of his children will be Catholics. He should abandon the marriage rather than thus violate his conscience. He should demand that the children be brought up in his faith. But then, of course, a deadlock would result. He would have to refuse compromise, and as the Catholic is also obliged to refuse marriage unless the written promise is given the marriage would be cancelled. It is better to part with a human being than to part with loyalty to conscience in so grave a matter.

91. Why must the promise be made in writing? Surely you can take a man’s word for it?

In many cases, yes. But sad experience has shown that some were not in good faith, and even granting good faith at the time there is no guarantee that such dispositions will persevere. Human nature is mutable. Why does the law of the land demand both signatures for the marriage itself in writing? Surely at the moment of marriage both are in good faith? The promise concerning the children is just as important as the marriage itself. On that promise the eternal welfare of the children may depend, surely a great responsibility. All serious contracts demand permanent signed records, and as no one resents them in other matters, so no one should resent them in this. Death could carry off the Catholic partner, and it may be very necessary to have written records of the promise. And if a man really intends to grant such a condition he should not mind putting his signature to it.

92. Why are not mixed marriages celebrated before the altar?

Marriage is a sacrament and a very holy rite. The person capable of enjoying the Catholic ritual is a Catholic only. When non-Catholics present themselves as partners in the marriage ceremony the Church does not grant the full privileges which are the right of Catholics only. The marriage is valid, of course, even though celebrated elsewhere than before the altar.

93. If this restriction were abolished there would be fewer marriages outside the Church.

The number of marriages outside the Church might be diminished, but the number of mixed marriages might greatly increase. By this law the mind of the Church is kept constantly before Catholics, and they do not think lightly of entering upon such alliances. If a Catholic would marry outside the Church because of such a law, she has little love for her religion, and would not be much of a Catholic whatever concessions were made in her favor.

94. The law will not prevent mixed marriages. They will always be.

That may be so. But the law diminishes their number. The Church cannot accept mixed marriages as the normal thing, and she would not be wise to treat them as normal.

95. Is it fair to mar the happiness of a young couple?

Is it fair to ask the Church to admit to her sacraments those of any religion or no religion? People who are complete strangers to her cannot expect her to make as much of them as of those who are her own children. The parties do not resent their exclusion from the altar nearly so much as the Church resents mixed marriages.

96. Why such lack of respect for the non-Catholic and the guests?

The law is not prompted by lack of respect for the non-Catholic party or for the guests. It is prompted by respect for religious rites and for the worship of God. The non-Catholic has no more right to intimate Catholic religious practices than an unnaturalized citizen to all the civic rights of true subjects. The non-Catholic party may be as good as gold. But that is not the point. The point is that she is not a Catholic, and the Church is quite within her rights in saying how far she will admit non-Catholics to a participation in her privileges, even as a club is within its rights in saying how far non-members may participate in its privileges. But such restrictions as regards non-members cannot be construed as an insult. The Catholic Church is not bound to manifest equal approval of Catholic marriages and of mixed marriages alike.

97. Christ did not institute marriage. It existed long before His advent to this world.

Prior to Christ it existed as a matrimonial contract, but Christ elevated it to the dignity of a Sacrament of the New Law. Christ therefore instituted matrimony as a Sacrament. He blessed marriage by His presence at Cana, and declared its indissolubility when He said, “What God has joined, let not man put asunder.” Henceforth, what was formerly a union by human contract was to be regarded by Christians as sealed by God in a new and special way.

98. How can marriage be a Sacrament?

A Sacrament is a visible rite instituted by Christ for the signifying and giving of grace. Marriage is a visible rite, witnessed by men. It has been elevated by Christ to sacramental dignity. It signifies something very sacred, the union of Christ with His Church, as St. Paul tells us. Eph. V., 22–33. There is but one Christ and one true Church. So there must be but one husband and one wife in each case. As there is no divorce between Christ and His Church, so there can be no divorce between husband and wife. And as the union between Christ and the Church results in the production of grace, so this sacred union in marriage conveys grace to the contracting parties that they may rightly fulfill their duties to each other, and to their children, for the love of God.

99. Marriage is a legal status not subject to any law spiritual.

If no law spiritual governs marriage, why did Christ say, “But I say unto you that whosoever shall put away his wife and marry another committeth adultery”? Christ was not the civil ruler, and He had said explicitly, “Render to Caesar the things that are Caesar’s.” If marriage belongs solely to civil authority, Christ would have left it to civil authority. And why did St. Paul say, “Marriage is a great Sacrament, but I speak in Christ and in the Church”? He did not say, “But I speak from the viewpoint of civil authority.” Again, elsewhere he writes “Let her marry to whom she will, only let it be in the Lord.” 1. Cor. VI., 39.

100. According to your doctrine polygamy would be wrong. But the Bible permitted it.

Christ clearly tells us that, whatever concessions were made in the Old Law, it was God’s intention from the very beginning that a man should cleave to his wife, not to his wives, and that they should be two in one flesh. God had made concessions because of the hardness of men’s hearts in the less perfect Law, but those concessions were withdrawn in the more perfect Law. Christ restored the primitive law, and said, “Henceforth what God hath joined together, let not man put asunder.” Mk. X., 2–9.

101. The civil law admits divorce and re-marriage.

Civil law and divine law are not always in harmony. Politicians at times exceed their powers and make laws which are contrary to those of God. Thus they have legislated concerning matrimony with no reference to the will of Christ who raised the marriage contract to the dignity of a Sacrament.

102. Your law imposes a great hardship upon the innocent party.

It is the law of Christ, not a law made by the Catholic Church. And it is at times hard upon the innocent party. But since when were we dispensed from the observance of God’s laws on the score that obedience to them is inconvenient?

103. What can one do if the husband is absolutely impossible to live with, or is guilty of adultery? Brutal cruelty and ill-treatment afford lawful grounds for separation, as also does adultery if it has not been condoned. But this separation does not break the bond of marriage. Death alone can do that, and neither is free to marry again whilst the other is still living. For grave reasons a Catholic can obtain ecclesiastical permission to have the separation rendered legal by a civil decree of divorce in order to avoid legal difficulties, but this must be on the understanding that such a decree leaves neither party free to contract another marriage whilst the other party is still living.

104. Are there not many cases in history where the Pope has granted a divorce and permission to re-marry for various reasons?

You would find it very difficult to prove one such case. Many decrees of nullity have been issued, but they are not divorces. Yet even supposing that you could prove that some individual Pope had granted such a divorce that would be no argument against the doctrine of the Catholic Church. It would but prove that such an individual Pope acted against his conscience and against the teaching of the Church. An appeal to the lapse on the part of an individual Pope proves nothing against the Church. You cannot disprove a law by pointing to a criminal who has broken it. The Catholic Church has always taught that divorce of a true marriage with the right to re-marry is not allowed.

105. Did not the Pope grant divorces to Louis XII and Henry IV of France, and very nearly to Henry VIII of England, being prevented in this case by fear of Charles V?

The two prior marriages you mention were declared to have been null and void from the beginning. Therefore no true marriage had ever existed. Louis XII proved conclusively that he had not been a free agent, having been compelled by his father, Louis XI, to submit to the ceremony. So, too, the first marriage of Henry IV was declared null and void because Marguerite de Valois had been forced into the marriage by her mother, Queen Catherine, for political purposes. The free consent of both parties is necessary for a true and binding marriage contract. In the case of Henry VIII, the power of Charles V was a motive why his marriage with Catherine of Aragon should not be declared null without rigid proof of its invalidity. At the same time, the enmity of Henry was to be avoided if at all possible, and theologians did all they could to see whether the first marriage were really null and void. But it was impossible, and at the risk of losing England to the Holy See a negative decision had to be given. Henry promptly declared himself head of the Church in England, and took the divorce Rome refused to grant.

106. Did not the Pope give Napoleon a divorce?

No. Napoleon married Josephine in 1796, a marriage validated by a dispensation from the Pope. From that marriage Napoleon never secured any divorce by lawful ecclesiastical authority. He forced a declaration of nullity from some unauthorized clerics, and they put him through a second marriage ceremony in 1810, but this attempted remarriage was a mockery. The whole thing was a violation of the laws of the Church, and the Church has never acknowledged the second marriage as valid at all.

107. Marconi secured a divorce and was re-married in the Catholic Church.

Marconi secured a decree of civil divorce from the state, but from the Catholic Church he secured a decree of nullity. The civil divorce broke no real bond of marriage, but merely released the parties from any further civil obligations. The Church declared that the form of marriage Marconi went through with Miss Beatrice O’Brien on March 16, 1905, was null and void, and that both were really single people mistakenly believing themselves to be married. Nullity was proved by sworn evidence given by Marconi, Beatrice O’Brien, a Protestant, and many witnesses. The defect in the first marriage was not that it took place in the Anglican Church but that neither party consented to a marriage until death in the Christian sense of the word. They attempted to contract marriage until they should grow tired of each other, both lacking the knowledge that such a temporary contract is not a valid Christian marriage.

108. Were they living in adultery, and were their children illegitimate?

Even though objectively their marriage was invalid, they were both in good faith believing their state to be lawful, and therefore they were not guilty of a sin of adultery. Nor would any children have been illegitimate, for children of a putative marriage are entitled to legitimacy.

109. After being refused a divorce by the civil courts did not the Duke of Marlborough secure one from the Pope? No. A civil divorce was granted in 1920, and both parties had married again before the case was put to Rome in 1926.

110. The Duke became a Catholic and promptly secured an annulment.

The Duke was a Protestant when the decision was given. Nor was it promptly given. The application was made to the Southwark diocesan court in 1925. This court, after scrutinizing all the evidence, gave judgment in February, 1926, that the first marriage was invalid from the beginning. Rome, not opposing the decision, but lest it might have been given too easily, called the case to the Holy See. The whole matter was reviewed, sworn testimony being obtained in America and England. The Holy See arrived at the same decision at Southwark and decreed nullity accordingly, six months later. You can hardly call that promptly.

111. Why was the Duke’s first marriage invalid?

On November 6th, 1895, the Duke of Marlborough went through a marriage ceremony with an American girl, Consuelo Vanderbilt. Both were Protestants, and normally such a marriage would have been valid. However, Miss Vanderbilt had secretly promised to marry another man of her own choice, but the mother forced the girl to marry the Duke. The marriage was not a success, and they separated in 1905, by mutual consent. In 1920, they secured a civil divorce, and both married again. In 1925 the decision of the Catholic Church was sought as to whether the first marriage had ever been valid according to Christian principles. Rome sought all the evidence possible. Miss Vanderbilt’s mother deposed on oath, “I forced my daughter to marry the Duke, thinking her objections merely those of an inexperienced girl.” Her aunt deposed on oath, “This marriage was forced on the girl, who desired to marry someone else altogether.” Another friend of the mother deposed that “it was no question of persuasion but of absolute constraint.” Rome could not but decide that, abstracting altogether from the civil decree of divorce, the parties had never really been married at all.

112. It looks as if money had weight with Rome.

Not at all. Not all the money in the Bank of England would be of any avail to secure an annulment from the Church if the first marriage had ever been valid. Meantime the trial at Southwark, with three judges and two other officials, lasting three months, cost $40 in expenses. The retrial in Rome lasted six months. There was much more expense in securing sworn testimonies from America and England, and in the number of legal men employed. This trial cost $200 in expenses; not a very great burden to the parties concerned. Moreover, the law of the Church is that litigants bear expenses only if they are able to afford them. In the ten years between 1920 and 1930 some 120 matrimonial cases were tried in Rome. In 69 cases the litigants paid expenses. In nine cases a nominal fee only was paid. In 39 cases the expenses were totally remitted. Nor did the offerings make any difference in the decisions given. Sixty-six per cent of those who paid, and 89 per cent of those who could not pay, obtained favorable decisions.

113. It comes to the same thing. We Protestants get a divorce from the state while Catholics get an annulment from their Church.

There is all the difference in the world between the two positions. A civil divorce claims to break the bonds of a valid marriage, bonds which the Catholic Church rigidly declares to be unbreakable. A decree of nullity does not break the bonds of a valid marriage at all. It declares that the marriage was never a true marriage and that there is no bond to break. It declares that the reputed marriage was null and void as a contract from the beginning. Had it been valid, the bond could not be broken save by the death of one of the parties.

114. Is it a sin for a Catholic to attend weddings in Protestant churches?

The law of the Catholic Church forbids participation in a religious service that is not Catholic because it is an implied repudiation of the faith which a Catholic professes to be the only true faith. It is good for non-Catholics to realize this so that, knowing that Catholics must refuse, they will not ask them to assist at the religious ceremony itself and then be offended as if refusal were due to lack of friendship.

115. May a Catholic act as best man or bridesmaid at a non-Catholic wedding?

A Catholic may not act as an official witness. A wedding in a church is not a merely social event; it is also a religious ceremony. Though non-Catholics may not see it, the Catholic position is alone logical. Protestants should choose witnesses of their own faith and spare Catholics the pain of having to refuse.

116. Why is the Catholic Church so severe in her law in this matter?

For very good reasons. Firstly, loyalty to Christ forbids our sanctioning in any way a false form of religion, and Protestantism is a corruption of Christ’s religion. If one may attend any religious services, irrespective of creed, then a Christian could assist at pagan rites. There must be a limit somewhere, and the Catholic Church says that those limits exclude any false form of religion, even though it be an adulterated form of Christianity. The presence of a Catholic at Protestant services is a silent approval of the error that one religion is as good as another. St. Paul says, “A man that is a heretic avoid.” Tit. 111, 10. St. John says, “If any man come to you and bring not this doctrine, receive him not into the house, nor say to him: ‘God speed you.’” 2 Jn. V, 10. The law of the Church, too, protects the faith of Catholics. If they attend Protestant services, there is always a danger that they will participate actively in a shame-faced way, and also a danger of their drifting into indifferentism and weakening in their own faith. Their presence, also, can be a cause of scandal to other Catholics who may begin to think that it is right for them also to attend at non-Catholic Churches. Nor is such attendance a kindness to Protestants. The abstention of Catholics from their services is a lesson of the utmost importance to them. Our attendance would sanction to a certain extent their idea that their religion also is as good as our own. But our absence from their Churches gives them food for thought. An Anglican might say, “Well, I have seen Methodists, Presbyterians, Congregationalists, and people of many other religions at our services; but I have never yet seen a Catholic associated with us.” And the fact that the vast Catholic Church denies their claims has led many a man from the chaos of the different Protestant Churches to the true religion.

BILLY SUNDAY BACKS UP CATHOLIC CHURCH

One day in Chicago a fellow came up and rang the doorbell and oh, he was dressed fit to kill! Had on a silk lid, he had a diamond in his shirt front as big as a hickory nut, patent leather shoes, a Prince Albert coat, silk lined, hung below his knees. And there was a girl about eighteen years of age—a peach of a girl-one of those kind of girls you’d involuntarily turn and look at twice if you saw her on the street—standing by his side.

So he tipped his lid and said: “Does the Reverend Mr. Sunday live here?”

I said: “I am he.”

He Said: “Will you officiate at our wedding?”

I said: “Have you the marriage license?”

He said: “Sure, Mike!”

I said: “I’m from Missouri, come across.”

So he pulled it out and I looked at it and said: “That looks good to me.”

I said: “Have either of you been married before?”

He said: “Not the young lady; I have.”

I said: “Your wife living or dead?”

He said: “She’s alive.”

I said: “Beat it-twenty-three for you, you lobster.”

He said: “What do you mean?”

I said: “I mean according to my interpretation of the Bible I haven’t any right to hook you up to that girl.” He said: “I have a license here from the county clerk.”

I said: “Some things that are legally right are morally wrong. That’s one of them.”

********

Mary

BY REV. WILLIAM P. O’KEEFE, C.M

INDEX

GOD’S MOTHER -OUR MOTHER

WHEN life is pleasant care is cast out. When the summer sun shines down on us from the blue vault of heaven, gladdening human hearts with its radiance and warming the world into life, unremembered are the chill winds of winter, and clouds of driving rain, and the harshness of sleet and snow.

So, too, in the things of the spirit. When temptations trouble us not and we have almost tangible proofs of God’s love for us, it is easy to believe that He is shining down on us from Heaven, and we find joy and gladness in the daily duties of religion.

But let us be careful, “When they shall say: Peace and security; then shall sudden destruction come upon them as the pains upon her that is with child. . . . Therefore, let us not sleep, as others do: but let us watch.” (1)

In our spiritual life we cannot afford to be heedless of the morrow. For as sure as there is a winter complementary to every summer, so in the Christian life is Thabor followed by Calvary. The bright noonday of God’s presence gives place to a darknessso dense that even the bravest are dismayed, and cry out: “My God, my God, why hast Thou forsaken me?” (2)

Temptations and troubles are sure to come. “The cross everywhere awaiteth thee. Thou canst not escape it, whithersoever thou runnest. Turn thyself upwards or turn thyself downwards: turn thyself inwards or turn thyself outwards everywhere thou shalt find the cross.” (3)

It is very important, therefore, that we should realise that God in His goodness has given us a light that will always guide us, a hand that will always lift us up, a voice that will always speak tender words of comfort and consolation to us. He has given us Mary, in whose Motherhood we have a wellspring of Hope, a never-failing fountain of strength and courage.

It is in the sorrow and suffering of her children that a mother’s love and care are most apparent. And it is also in time of trouble that mankind becomes most sensible of the mothering of Mary. Grief-stricken souls find heavenly solace in the thought of her. Anguished hearts are soothed by the remembrance of her. All who are in distress can turn to her “knowing that she will communicate to me of her good things and will be a comfort to me in cares and grief.” (4)

When our spirits grow faint under the burden of unhappiness when, like the disciples at the burial of Christ, we feel that all is lost and that henceforth life holds naught but emptiness and heartache let us turn and see Mary beside us. She speaks and hope is reborn. She takes us by the hand, and we go bravely into the dark night of the future. She comes with us, and remains to console us in the lonely Upper Room among our sad memories and shattered dreams.

She prays and we pray with her. Then we are at peace. We know that the tomb will give up its dead. Dark night will give place to the beauty of dawn. The shadows of sadness will vanish in the sunshine of resurgent gladness, and all our tears will be dried in a joy that no man can take from us.

“The Virgin is the royal road by which the Saviour came to us. . . . Therefore let us also walk faithfully in this road. Let us strive to ascend by it to Jesus, Who by the same has descended to us. I repeat; let us try to go by Mary to share in His grace Who by Mary came to share in our misery” (St. Bernard)

HOPE OF HUMANITY

When Adam sinned the entire human race shared in his downfall. His disobedience affected us all. It brought death on Adam and all his children. The sunshine of God’s presence was gone from us and we were left in bleakness and desolation as of arctic winter.

In His mercy however God reached out to help us. In the first sad day of Adam’s crime God gave us hope saying to the Evil One: “I will put enmities between thee and the Woman and thy seed and her Seed: she shall crush thy head and thou shalt lie in wait for her heel.” (5)

I Thess, v, 3–8; 2 Matt. xxvii, 46; 3 Imitation of Christ, Bk. II, C.12. 4 Wisd. viii, 9; 5 Gen. iii, 15.

Over the wintry world God speaks of Mary. His words fall soft as a breath of Spring on the hearts of humanity and these are strangely moved. The divine sap of grace re-animates them. The dead branches come to life and bud forth and offer their gifts of blossoms to heaven. Though midsummer is not yet come one can already foretell its fullness and its bounty: one can already dream happily of rich harvests and lands flowing with milk and honey.

God’s promise of Mary filled mankind with hope. All through the long night of expectation men lived in the dream that was Mary. They prayed for her coming as an invalid would pray for the dawn of a new day. Eagerly and anxiously they awaited her arrival.

Mankind was poverty-stricken and wretched. Mary would “open her hand to the needy, and stretch out her hands to the poor.” (1) She would be the mouthpiece of her kindred, a mediatrix with Him Whom they had so grievously offended. To her they would say: “Do thou call upon the Lord; and speak to the King for us; and deliver us from death.” (2)

What lovely appeals they composed: “Arise, make haste, my love, my beautiful one, and come. For winter is now past ; the rain is over and gone. The flowers have appeared in our land. The time of pruning is come. The voice of the turtle is heard in our land. The fig tree hath put forth her young figs. The vines in flower yield their sweet smell. Arise my love, my beautiful one, and come. My dove, show me thy face. Let thy voice sound in my ears. For thy voice is sweet and thy face comely.” (3)

But God has taken good time for the fashioning of Mary. She must be the Divine Artist’s masterpiece, something beautiful beyond words, a creature of incomparable perfection.

At length the task was completed. And God rested from His labour of love, and paused in admiration of the Mary He had made. “How beautiful art thou,” He said: “Thou art all fair, O my love, and there is not a spot in thee. . . . One is my dove: My perfect one is but one. . . . How beautiful art thou, and how comely, my dearest.” (4)

“A greater heaven God could have made, or a greater earth but a greater mother than the Mother of God even God could not make.” (5)

And God said: “Come, my beloved. Let us go forth into the field, . . . and let us see if the flowers be ready to bring forth fruits.” (6)

“Flowing with delights and leaning upon her Beloved,” (7) Mary came forth. Heaven’s angels bowed in lowly reverence. “Hail, full of grace,” they said, “ the Lord is with thee.” (8)

And the legions of Satan were sore afraid at the sight of the gleaming throng of her virtues “terrible as an army set in battle array.” (9) They knew Mary would accomplish God’s Will and would crush them under her heel. “Behold, all that fight against thee shall be confounded, and shall be as nothing. . . . For I am the Lord thy God, Who take thee by the hand.” (10)

So Mary came among men, and such as had spiritual insight like Elizabeth and holy Simeon, recognized her for what she was. They saw in her the fulfilment of the prophecies. They received her with glad welcome, and for doing so were “filled with the Holy Ghost.” (11)

Mary’s coming was truly the dawn of a new day, the end of a long winter. And this new day would know no evening; this Summer would see no Autumn. For the angel saluted her as “Ave,” a new “Eva” who is the reverse of the old. She is wise where Eve was foolish. She is humble where Eve was proud. She gives Life where Eve gave Death. She brings back God, whom Eve had rejected. Mary undoes the evil wrought by Eve, so that we, as Mary’s children, are the reverse of evil; we live with a divine life of grace.

MARY, MOTHER OF GOD

Thus far I have tried to let you see the Mary of the Old Testament, the Woman of God’s promise to our first Parents, the Woman for whose coming the prophets sighed, the Woman who would crush the serpent’s head and remove the reproach from Israel.

But the Old Testament sight of the supernatural was dark night compared with the bright noon-day of the New Testament revelation. In the light of the Gospels, Mary is a creature of truly exquisite beauty. She appears to us as a 1 Prov. xxxi, 20. 2 Esth. xv, 3 3 Cant. ii. 4 ib. iv, vi. vii. 5 Mirror of Mary. 6 Cant. vii. 7 ib. viii. 8 Luke 1, 28. 9 Cant. vi, 3–9. 10 Is. xli, 11–13. 11 Luke I, 41, II, 25–27. vision that we cannot paint with human colours, a tale that we cannot relate in human words. We make use of all our most delicate tints: we heap words on words and metaphor on metaphor; but at the end of all we know that we have failed. For Mary’s sanctity is greater than our minds can comprehend. “Creatures cannot conceive her sanctity. Nobody knows it fully but God alone.” (Pope Pius IX).

In truth, the Word’s becoming Flesh contains more mystery than the wonder of God made man. In addition to the marvel of the Incarnation, the mystery of God’s condescension, there is the cognate marvel of Mary’s Maternity, the mystery of such Glory in a creature.

All Mary’s graces are related to her Motherhood of God. All the truths concerning her are hidden in the depths of this most profound truth.

We are astonished at the privilege of her Immaculate Conception. We are amazed that she unites spotless Virginity and perfect Motherhood. We are filled with awe when she is assumed, body and soul, into Heaven. We rejoice to think that God has made her Dispensatrix of all His graces.

But God has given all these gifts to Mary because of her divine Maternity. Those other privileges are but the fit apparel for so august a personage as the Mother of God, the proper ornaments of such a Queen.

The God of the universe, the Lord of the angels, is called Son by her. Once, as we are told in the Gospel, she said to Him: Son, why hast Thou done so to us? Which, indeed, of the angelic princes would dare to speak like that to God?

“But Mary does not forget that she is God’s Mother, and can confidently call Him Son, Whom the angels are content to serve with lowly reverence. And, for His part, the Lord is happy to be called what He was happy to become-Mary’s Son.

“Choose, then, which of the two marvels thou wilt admire the more? The gracious condescension of the Son, or the glorious exaltation of the Mother? Each of the two overwhelms the mind. Each of the two surpasses all understanding.” (Saint Bernard).

There is undoubtedly no understanding of the mystery of the Incarnation without some appreciation of the marvel of Mary’s Motherhood. There is no Christianity without Mary. Hence the late Holy Father, Pope Pius XI, wrote: “The dogma of the divine Maternity follows of necessity from the fundamental Catholic doctrine of the Hypostatic Union.” God’s generosity and Mary’s exaltation are two aspects of one and the same mystery. They are the divine and human facets of the one and the same miracle. Emmanuel, God with us.

Some good souls suffer from perplexity and timidity in their attitude to Mary. They fear lest they should exalt her too much, and thus take from the honour due to God alone. They are afraid to honour her, lest they should be really adoring her.

Yet they do not hesitate to honour very ordinary persons, their employers and their friends. While hesitating to reverence some representation of Mary, they will tolerate no want of respect to their country’s flag or to the image of their earthly rulers.

Let them remember that in honouring Mary they but follow God’s example. He gave Himself entirely to her in becoming her Son, and in addition He accorded her several striking and singular privileges. Do we need to be fearful of doing as God did? Or did He do wrong in treating Mary in such an unique fashion? Do we not rather honour God if we imitate His example? “The more we honour Mary, the more we shall honour God.” (St. Alphonsus).

Hence, “we must not imagine that Mary is a hindrance to our union with our Creator. Mary is made for God alone, and far from ever detaining a soul in herself, on the contrary, she casts the soul upon God and unites it with Him so much the more perfectly as the soul is perfectly united with her. Mary is the marvellous echo of God.” (Saint MarieLouis de Montfort).

In devotion to other saints one must observe some limit, but Mary is beyond praise. We can never exceed in our devotion to her, because God has given her the fullness of grace and has made her His Mother, so that in some sense she is infinitely admirable. The Blessed Virgin, from the fact that she is the Mother of God, has a certain infinite dignity from the Infinite Good which is God.” (Saint Thomas Aquinas).

And we have the assurance of the Pope that in honouring Mary we do but give glory to God: “ Nothing can be more pleasing to Jesus Christ, Who certainly has a burning love for His Own Mother, than that we should venerate her as she deserves, that we should eagerly return her love and that by imitating her most holy example we should seek to gain her most powerful patronage.” (Pope Pius II).

MARY, MOTHER OF MEN

Though the angels in Heaven reverence Mary as the Mother of God, and honour her as their Queen, they are in a sense less privileged than we are. For to us alone who are the blood-brothers of Jesus Christ, Mary’s Son, is it given to feel for her the tender affection and love of children for a mother. What a privilege! What a strikingly beautiful token of God’s thoughtful regard for us! What a source of hope and confidence!

Mary is doubly a Mother at the moment of the Incarnation. To give God a human nature she became His Mother. To make us share in the Divine Nature, she becomes our spiritual Mother.

To her we owe it that we recovered our hope of entering Heaven.

Strange, indeed, are the ways of providence. The Incarnation rests on Mary’s word. In her hands is the fate of the whole human race. There in the quietness and remoteness of the village of Nazareth, a modest and retiring little maid has to make, unknown to all the world beside, the most momentous and awesome decision of all time.

God does not leave her quite without help. His angel is there to assist her. Gratefully she accepts his aid, his encouraging: “Fear not Mary” (1), and his gentle, gracious solution of her uncertainties.

But the final decision rests with her alone. The ultimate choice must be made by Mary. Is God to become Man? Is mankind to be redeemed? Time stands still. The angel is silent. Creator and creatures await.

“Behold, O Mary, the entire world is at thy feet, and tremblingly awaits thy reply . . . O Virgin, delay not. Do, please, answer quickly. Say the word, O Lady, for all on earth all in Limbo, all in Paradise itself are eager to hear thee speak. The King and Lord of the Universe, Christ Himself, longs to hear thee answer. . . .

“O Blessed Maiden, open thy heart to faith; open thy lips to consent, open thy bosom to thy Maker. Behold, the Desired of all nations stands without. He knocks at thy door. Oh, what if He should pass on while thou dost delay to open!” (Saint Bernard).

Have no doubt about it. The Incarnation of the Word and the salvation of each one of us depended on Mary’s Fiat. How grateful we should be that she did not fail in her love for God or man. But Mary was never found wanting. She spoke-and her word was echoed back from the highest Heavens, to give humanity the Substantial Word of God, the Son of God Himself.

Thus in one tremendous moment Mary achieves a two-fold Motherhood. By one wondrous act she gives human life to God and divine life to us. And it is precisely this element in the New Testament revelation of the Woman of God’s promise that shows us the really surpassing greatness of Mary, and establishes in eternal security our Christian hope and trust in her power and wish to assist us.

The prophets of old hoped in Mary because of God’s promise.

They believed in her as a blind man might believe in the beauty of dawn or sunset. They had not “the motive and the cue” for confidence in her that we have. For we see where they were sightless. They knew little more than that Mary would be very powerful with God. We know that, as His Mother, she is all powerful with God. They could not quite appreciate what further reason than pity and generosity she could have for coming to the aid of mankind. We know that she assists us because she is our Mother, and cannot bear to see us suffer hurt or harm.

Mary’s Motherhood of God and of men: this is the twin foundation of our hope of salvation. This is a twofold truth that can never fail, a fortress against which the forces of evil ever rage in baffled despair. We know that we are now safe for ever, because in the Mother-love of Mary’s Most Pure and Immaculate Heart God is eternally and inseparably united to man.

BETHLEHEM AND CALVARY-BIRTH AND DEATH

Jesukin, the Baby God of Bethlehem, was Mary’s Firstborn. Mary had yet to bring forth Christ’s brethren. Her life, therefore, from Bethlehem to Calvary was but the completion of her Motherhood: Golgotha is for Mary also a consummation (2) of what was begun at the Annunciation and in the Stable of Bethlehem. The Sorrows promised her by Simeon, her anguish between Bethlehem and Calvary, these were the birth-pains she endured in bringing us forth 1 Luke. I, 30. 2 John xix, 30. into the world of the supernatural, the travail through which, by the grace of the Holy Spirit, we were born as her children, and children, therefore, of God also.

Christ, the new Adam, the new Head of mankind, had to “go before” us. He had to “prepare the way” for us. And it was not until He had merited for us, His brothers, the fullness of supernatural life that we, so to speak, came from our Mother’s womb, and formed with Him one glorious Mystical Body.

To those who like to contemplate the profound mystery of Mary, I suggest that they search for the unity of Bethlehem and Calvary. Those two strangely different scenes are one in Mary’s Motherhood. They show the tremendous mystery of Birth and Death: and prove that every grave can be a gateway to greater life.

At Bethlehem, Birth is the centre of the picture, and because Birth means Motherhood, Mary’s presence at Bethlehem is easily understood. Here Death is in the background. It is seen only with the eye of Faith. Birth is physical at Bethlehem.

Death is mystical. It is seen in the emptying out (1) of His Divinity by the Word, the voluntary humiliation of the Eternal Son of God, Christ’s concealment of His Godhead. Thus Bethlehem is truly a foreshadowing, a beginning of Calvary.

On Calvary the parts are reversed. Here Death struts across the stage. It is too obviously physical, too painfully visible, and for that reason claims all our attention. But Birth is also present at Calvary-mystically, spiritually, but none the less really for that-and how could there be Birth without a Mother? For those with Faith Calvary is utterly incomprehensible without Mary’s presence.

These thoughts may serve to show the meaning of Mary’s part in the drama of Calvary. The Gospel narrative tells us that our dying Saviour acknowledged Mary’s mystical Motherhood of Men. As the nurse might place a new-born babe in its mother’s arms, for her consolation and comfort, while saying to her: “Courage now. It’s nearly all over. Here is your little son.” So Christ gave mankind (in the person of the Beloved Disciple) to the Virgin-Mother, saying: “Woman, behold thy son.” (2)

Furthermore, the Evangelist would have us realise that the suffering Christ was keenly conscious of His kinship with the rest of Mary’s children. “After that, He said to the Disciple: “Behold thy Mother.”‘ Notice now that He did not call John: Son; He did not say: “My son, behold thy Mother,” because Jesus and John are brothers. Each is Mary’s child. “And,” therefore, “from that hour the Disciple took her as his own.”

BETHLEHEM AND CALVARY: JOY AND SORROW

Despite its loneliness and isolation, the Stable at Bethlehem was a happy place when Mary brought forth her Firstborn. Angels sang. Shepherds adored. Great Kings offered gifts. “The Virgin Mother who knew not man felt no anguish in the birth of her Firstborn.” (3)

Calvary, on the contrary, spells dreadful sadness and limitless sorrow. Here the angels are silent. The great ones of earth offer nought but blows and insults. This is darkness and blood and tears-And this is the place of our supernatural Birth.

As Christ is the second Adam, atoning for the crime of the first Adam by taking on Himself the sentence of death passed on Adam, so is Mary the second Eve. “Associated with Christ in the salvation of the human race” (Pope Leo XIII), she freely undergoes the punishment of the first woman: “I will multiply thy sorrows and thy conceptions. In sorrow shalt thou bring forth children.” (4)

The eye that despiseth the labour of his mother in bearing him, let the ravens of the brooks pick it out and the young eagles devour it.” (5) We are truly the children of Mary’s Sorrows, and it would, indeed, ill become us to forget the labour in which she brought us forth. Until God readmitted us to the life of grace her voice was heard “mourning and weeping, weeping for her children, and refusing to be comforted because they are not.” (6)

Mary’s Motherhood of us is no mere pious sentiment. It is far more than poetic exaggeration or extravagance of devotion. To Mary we truly owe it that we now share in the divine life that we are really adopted children of God. If

1 The kenosis referred to by Saint Paul in Philipp. II, 7: “He emptied Himself taking the form of a servant . . .” 2 John xix, 26–27. 3 The Roman Breviary. 4 Gen. iii, 16. 5 Prov. xxx, 17. 6 Jer. xxxi, 15.

Mary’s Motherhood of us is no more than metaphor, then, one might say, so too is God’s Fatherhood: but that cannot be, since Christ has taught us all to call Him “Our Father,” (1) and it is precisely “because we are sons, God hath sent the Spirit of His Son into our hearts, crying Abba, Father.” (2)

When the hour of her child-bearing is at hand, every mother must be filled with the spirit of sacrifice. She has to journey into the sad land of suffering. She must stand at the foot of the Cross and look on Death face to face. She must be prepared to risk her life in order that the new life within her may come forth and achieve its destiny.

So, too, with Mary. That we might be born to the life of grace she made the grim ascent of Calvary, and endured anguish beyond the power of words to describe. All that Christ suffered in His Flesh, Mary suffered in her soul. “Ah, truly O Blessed Mother, did the sword pierce thy soul, for only by doing so could it penetrate thy Son’s Body “ (Saint Bernard).

That we might live, Mary gave what was dearer to her than her own life. She gave Him Who is LIFE ITSELF, and for that she is a peerless Mother. All may turn to her with most sure and certain confidence, for Mary, our Mother, won for us more than a life that comes to an end: Mary gives Eternal life to her children. “He that shall find me shall find Life.” (3)

MARY MEDIATRIX OF ALL GRACES

Thus far I have tried to show that “neither in the prophecy, nor in the preparation, nor in the winning of the Redemption has Mary been separated from Her Son.” (4) And in doing so I have concerned myself chiefly with Mary’s relation to mankind in general.

I would now ask you to consider her relation to the individual soul. Does she play a part in the distribution to you and to me of the graces that were won for us during the lifetime of her Son? “Does the past suggest a future for her, and, if so, of what description?” (5)

There can be no doubt that Mary’s Motherhood of our Lord gives her an altogether unique position in the Communion of Saints. It is commonly believed, however, that, over and above her rank as Saint of saints, she enjoys in the sanctification of individual souls the dignity of a mediatorship, secondary to, but inseparable from the Mediatorship of Christ. Because Mary co-operated so intimately in the acquisition of grace, it seems fitting that she should have a like part in its distribution. But there is even a deeper reason than this for saying that she is the Mediatrix of all graces.

According to the Fathers of the Church, the Sacred Humanity of our Saviour represented all humanity, all mankind. Christ as Man is a perfect Model from which each one of us may learn how God loves him and how he is to love God in return. Christ’s life is the pattern of our living and of our sanctification. Every grace that we receive conforms us more and more to Christ, builds up His likeness in us, makes us resemble Him.

Recollect now that the Incarnation depended on Mary’s Fiat. It was at her word that the fullness of grace, the grace of hypostatic union with the Word, was given to Christ’s Sacred Humanity. Surely that is in itself a cogent argument that she is Mediatrix of all graces. If there is any real meaning in the statement that “we make one with Christ in the divine thought.” (6) And if our (progressive) sanctification follows the pattern of the (instantaneous) sanctification of the Sacred Humanity, all our holiness, the fullness of our graces, depends on the Virgin’s Fiat, and is given to us at her word.

Thus we are always the “little children” of Mary, her tiny babes, “of whom she is in labour until Christ is formed in us.” (7) In our spiritual lives we depend unceasingly on her “as the unborn babe on its mother.” (8) No smallest grace, not the least drop of the Blood of Christ, “comes to us of the Mystical Body otherwise than through the Heart of Mary.” What a picture of all-embracing dependence! (9) What motive for being utterly devoted to her!

Mary Mediatrix. Mary Mother of Divine Grace. This is the Virgin’s real destiny. She must be Mother of the full Christ, of the Saviour and His Mystical Body. This is truly the only future that would accord with her sublime past and keep intact her mysterious unity with her Son.

1 Matt. vi, 9. 2 Gal. iv, 6. 3 Prov. viii, 35. 4 The de Montfort Way, B.O.W. 1942, p. 16. 5 ib 6 Abbot Marmion: Christ in His Mysteries: Sands & Co., p. 13. 7 Gal. iv, 19. 8 The de Montfort Way, p. 21. 9 ib.

“O my Lady, most holy and graceful Mother of God, boundless Ocean of the unseen riches and treasures of the

Divinity, thou who art after the Mediator also a universal Mediatrix, behold my faith.

“Thou hast wiped all tears from the face of the earth. Thou hast filled creatures with all manner of blessings. Thou hast brought joy to Heaven and salvation to earth.

“In thee we have an unfailing guarantee of our resurrection. Through thee we hope to reach the Kingdom of

Heaven. From thee, who alone art Immaculate, Apostles, Prophets, all the just and humble of heart, since the first

Adam to the very end of time, have received, still receive and ever will receive all glory and honour and holiness. (St.

Ephrem, IV cent.).

“None indeed can attain salvation but through thee, O Most Holy One. None may be saved from evils but through thee, O most Immaculate One. To none may gifts be granted but through thee, O Most Chaste One. On none may the boon of grace be mercifully bestowed but through thee, O Most Honoured One. Who, then, will not proclaim thee blessed?” (Saint Germanus, VII cent.).

“God has placed the fullness of all good in Mary. If, then, we have any hope, any grace, any salvation, we can be certain that it has overflowed into us from her, ‘who has gone up from the desert overflowing with delights.’” Hence with every fibre of our hearts, with every inmost feeling and affection, let us honour Mary. Such is God’s

Will, Who would have us obtain everything through her. Yes, such is His Will, His Will for us.” (St. Bernard, XI cent.).

FAMILY LIFE

God is our Father, Mary is our Mother. Christ is our Brother. And with them we are privileged to form one wonderful Family -the Household of the Faith. “You are the domestics of God,” (1) that is to say, members of His Family.

The Blessed Trinity is a sublime Family Circle. Theologically speaking, the Father is Parenthood. The Word is Childhood. The Holy Ghost is Oneness of Will, Mutual love. Thus you have the eternal cycle of Life in the Trinity, the Father always begetting the Son, to Whom He is bound and welded by the Spirit of Love.

Now, it is into this Family Life of God that we are drawn by grace. The Spirit reaches us and encircles us. By His indwelling in us we are brought within the Family Circle of the Trinity, for it is “the Spirit Himself giveth testimony to our spirit that we are the sons of God.” (2) In a word, God’s Fatherhood is achieved in us by the overshadowing of the Holy Ghost.

How significant, then, it becomes that in the Gospels we are told that Mary’s Motherhood is also a work of the same Holy Spirit. “The Holy Ghost shall come upon thee,” the angel said to her, “and the Power of the Most High shall overshadow thee, and, therefore, the Holy One that shall be born of thee shall be called the Son of God.” (3)

Look at it another way. When the angel saluted her, Mary was “full of grace.” But as I have said above, grace brings one into the Family Life of the Godhead. Mary’s unique grace brought to her, therefore, an altogether unique participation in the Life of the Trinity. It made her God’s Mother. “Her fervent love and charity drew the Word to her.” (Saint Albert the Great).

Moreover, because, from that moment onwards, our human notion of the Family Life of God must include His Mother, Mary, our adoption by grace into that Family must give us sonship of Mary as surely as it gives us sonship of God the Father. We cannot be in God’s Family unless we are Mary’s children. If we reject her, we reject Him. Unless we acknowledge her as our Mother, God most certainly will not acknowledge us as His sons.

Hence in our spiritual life let us not forget that in so far as our union with Mary increases, in so far as we really regard her as our Mother and treat her as such, to that extent the Holy Spirit is achieving the likeness of Christ- Sonship of God -in us. We are making progress in genuine holiness and in the grace and favour of our Heavenly Father.

THE FAMILY LIKENESS

I have said that our adoption by grace into the Family Circle of the Trinity is effected by the Holy Ghost dwelling 1 Eph. ii, 19. 2 Rom. viii, 16. 3 Luke i, 35. in us. He is the Bond of Divine kinship between the members of the Holy Family of God. “In one Spirit were we all baptized into one body, and in one Spirit we have all been made to drink.” (1)

Well, now, to borrow again from the theologians; in the Blessed Trinity the Holy Ghost is God’s Will -as the Word is God’s Thought. Consequently, it is no mere coincidence that what I may call the Family Likeness, the external resemblance, between the members of God’s Family, is a “showing forth of the Spirit,” (2) doing the Will of God.

Such was the lesson of Christ’s Life. “In the head of the book it is written of Me: Behold I come to do Thy Will, O God.” (3) Such, too, was His spoken word: “Whosoever shall do the Will of God he is My brother, and My sister and Mother.” (4)

Mary’s life teaches the same truth. Her “behold the Handmaid of the Lord “ (5) is the perfect parallel to Christ’s “not as I Will, but as Thou Wilt.” (6) And it is very significant that no other spoken lesson of hers has been preserved in the Gospels but one brief phrase, that could serve as a motto for would-be saints, a single sentence in which she gives her children the secret of sanctity: “Whatsoever He shall say to you do ye.” (7) This she spoke at Cana, on the eve of Christ’s public life, as He was about to commence His revelation of the hidden mysteries of God. This is how she introduces Him to His audience. Knowing that He is God, she tells us: “Do His Will in all things.”

And in this context I cannot refrain from mentioning the person whose love for Mary brought him to Jesus, the one who learned from her this wisdom of ready obedience to the Will of God. I refer, of course, to Saint Joseph, who as Mary’s earthly spouse typified her Heavenly Spouse, the Holy Spirit, the Will of God, in a very special way. With Saint Joseph there was no bartering, no bargaining with God about what he would or wouldn’t do. Once his duty was clear he straight away went and did it. “Joseph, rising up, did as the angel of the Lord commanded him.” (8)

This simple, unostentatious piety appeals to me, partly because it is so much in the spirit of Christ, so simple and Mary-like, so much more certain and safe, than emotionalism and mere sentiment, and partly also because it has everything in common with the unquestioning, simple faith of our Irish ancestors who were prepared to leave all things, to sacrifice home and friends and their beloved fatherland, for the sake of Christ and His Blessed Mother.

We often refer glibly and most thoughtlessly to the Fiat of Mary, by which the “Word was made flesh and dwelt amongst us.” Let us not forget that we, her children, must say Amen to our Mother’s prayer. We must echo her Fiat. Christ also taught us to say Fiat to God: Fiat voluntas tua, “Thy Will be done on earth as it is in Heaven.” (9) Like Mary, our Mother, and like Christ, our Brother, we ought to translate this prayer into living words, into our actions. If we do so the Holy Ghost will come upon us, and the Might of the Most High will overshadow us, and cause to be reproduced in us the likeness of the Son of God Himself.

MARIA ASSUMPTA

The Mother of God belongs to Heaven. Her place is in the bosom of the Divine Family. Hence it was most fitting that, when her work on earth was accomplished, God should take her to Himself. Her most Pure Body had been the instrument by which the Holy Spirit had fashioned Flesh for God made Man and surely that Divine Lover would not leave the virginal beauty of his Spouse to suffer the inglorious corruption of the grave. God is more generous than that to those who have served Him. Hence in her death God bestowed the singular favour of the Assumption on the Maiden who had rendered Him such ready obedience in her life.

And for us who are her children it is comforting to know that Mary is in Heaven. There she is nearer to each one of us than if she had remained in some particular place on earth. There she can foster the cause of our salvation more effectively than here below. If Christ brought His glorified Humanity into Heaven in order that by the presentation of His Sacred Wounds He might intercede for us with the Father, so was it granted to Mary to come before God in the anticipated glory of bodily resurrection, that the Father might be moved still more at the sight of the Immaculate and Virginal Purity of His Son’s Mother.

Mary’s Assumption is the perfect complement of all her other privileges and graces. Grace always gives us some familiarity with God, increases our union with Him, tends to bring us deeper into the Life of the Trinity. Therefore, the 1 I Cor. xii, 13. 2 ib. ii, 4. 3 Ps. xxxix, 8. 4 Mk iii, 35. 5 Luke i, 38. 6 Mt. xxvi, 39. 7 Jo. ii, 5. 8 Matt. 1, 24 ; 11, 14, 21. 9 ib. vi, 10. incomparable fullness of Mary’s grace was fittingly shown forth in the unique intimacy with God to which she was admitted in her Assumption. “If Christ, Who is the Life and the Truth, could say: “Where I am, there also shall My servant be,” how much more certainly will not His Mother be there with Him?” (St. John Damascene).

MARY: OUR LIFE, OUR HOPE

Mary’s Assumption, like Christ’s Ascension, lifts our thoughts to Heaven, the ultimate goal of our existence, makes life worth living, and is an inspiration and stimulus to us in all joys and sorrows. To those especially, who are unhappy and fearful because of past sins, and to those who are uneasy or overanxious about their salvation, I say: Remember Mary. Turn to your Mother, God has welcomed her into His inmost Heaven. There she thinks of you and prays for you. God cannot refuse her anything, because she is His Mother, and because this is the hour of her triumph. He has committed to her the distribution of all His graces. Among these is the grace of your salvation. Pray, therefore; Pray to Mary, and then put aside your anxiety and fearfulness. For Mary, who is a revelation of the gentle sweetness of God, does not like to see her children in unnecessary and harmful unhappiness.

“Our great Queen has gone before us. God has welcomed her with such honour that we, her poor servants, may follow after her with confidence. . . . Our exiled nation has sent home an advocate, who, being the Mother of the judge and also the Mother of Mercy, will undoubtedly further the cause of our salvation. . . .

“With thirsting souls, therefore, let us hasten to this fountain of mercy. With most eager desire let our misery turn to this treasure of compassion.

“O Most Blessed One, I beseech thee, that, in thy loving kindness thou wouldst strive to let the world see what grace thou hast found with God. By thy holy prayers obtain pardon for sinners, health for the sick, courage for the fearful, comfort for the afflicted, help and relief for all who are sore pressed.

“And may we, O Most Gracious Queen, may we, who praise thee and call on thy most sweet name of Mary, merit to receive by thy intercession an abundance of heavenly grace from Jesus Christ, thy Son, our Lord, Who is over all things, God blessed for ever. Amen. (Saint Bernard).

Nihil Obstat:

JOSEPH P. Newth, C.C., Censor Theol. Deput.

Imprimi Potest:

@ I0ANNES CAROLUS,

Archiep. Dublinen,

Hiberniae Primas.

Dublini, die 22° Junii anno 1961.

********

Mary Always Remembers You

BY T. N. JORGENSEN, S.J

INDEX

GOOD morning, Mary!”

“Good morning, Mother!”

How often these words were repeated with love by Jesus and Joseph in Galilee. What joy it is to live with a perfect woman. “As the rising sun brings glory to the heavens, so does the beauty of a good woman bring glory to her house.” God has placed a good woman in His house on earth, the Church. Mary, Mother of the Church, dwells with us.

“Ave, Maria!” “Hail, Mary !”

How often through the centuries this greeting of Gabriel has been repeated. Millions of Aves daily give testimony that Mary still dwells with us. The simple act of greeting is an act of faith and hope and love all in one. It lifts our thoughts to heaven and the spiritual world, and brings God’s grace flowing into our souls.

But this greeting should be only the beginning of a new fullness of spiritual life. One does not say “hello” to a close friend and then ignore him for the rest of the time that they are together. Fortunately we can speak to Mary through our thoughts without forming any words with our tongue. This makes it possible to turn to her often to discuss our plans, hopes, and fears—while sitting in silence on a crowded bus or walking or waiting or resting.

The day is full of moments when we can whisper mentally, “Which way shall I do this work, Mary?” “How would you handle this problem?” “Bless this act that I may do your will in your way.” “Help me to act now as Jesus would act here.” This kind of living up to our belief in Mary’s presence and protection makes our earthly exile bearable and our salvation sure.

A FRIEND AT HAND

Without a friend at hand, our dearest delights pall quickly. With a charming and capable and loving friend to share our hours, time speeds along happily. True growth in grace brings many joys, one of which is a growing consciousness of the wonderful presence of Mary, the perfect friend.

Of course Mary is not present visibly, but that does not mean that she is not truly present. Our guardian angel is not present visibly; but if we have been devoted to him, we know of his constant care. God our Father is not present bodily, either here or in heaven, but no one is closer than He to the souls which He created and preserves and loves. When St. Teresa was in ecstasy, she was so intimately united to God that she could not distinguish for the moment which was God and which herself, but He was not visibly present. So visible presence is not necessary for the full, conscious presence of God; nor is it necessary for Mary, who through her special union with Him shares uniquely in His power.

FULLNESS OF PRESENCE

Let us consider the true nature of a fully conscious presence. Its first essential quality is knowledge. If three people are in a room and two are talking in a language which the third does not understand; if three people attend a football game and two know all the rules and the third does not; if three people go to a movie and one is blind, or three go to an opera and one is deaf, or three go to class and one is absentminded or falls asleep—the third party in each of these cases, while visibly present, is not present in any full way because of his lack of knowledge of what is going on.

Power is the second essential quality of fullness of presence. If three people go to a polling place and two are citizens and the third is not and cannot vote; if three go to Mass and two are Catholics and receive Communion and the third is not and cannot; if three go to an American Legion dance and two are members and dance and the third is not and cannot; if three go to a meeting in the Senate and two are Senators and talk and vote and the third is not and cannot—in these and countless other cases the third, while present visibly and having some knowledge of what is going on, is not fully present because of his lack of power to share in the activity.

Love is the third essential quality of presence. If our son or brother or best friend is playing football, we are likely to see him at every play and not notice the others. A mother can walk into the nursery of a hospital and be conscious of only one baby of the many there. A young man just engaged can be jostled by a crowd of hundreds and be conscious only of the girl at his side. A willing, conscious, active attention to a person is what makes us most fully present to him, and love is the greatest spur to this attention.

NO HANDICAP TO MARY

Power, knowledge, and love are the three qualities that make up a fully conscious presence. We over-emphasize visible presence in our thoughts because in most of our experiences we have to be visibly present before we can have power, knowledge, and love; and so we naturally—but wrongly-think that visible presence and these qualities are essentially connected.

The veil between Mary and us might be compared to one-way glass. Some large stores have a detective sitting inside a pillar made of such glass. He can see all that is going on in the aisles outside, but the customers have no idea that he is there. If he sees a theft or fire or anything else wrong, he has but to telephone to his companion at the desk and action takes place at once. But Mary is really much closer to us than is the glass-enclosed detective to the customers. For the veil between her and us is no handicap to her at all, for she has a great fullness of the knowledge and power and love which we have just considered.

MARY”S KNOWLEDG E OF US

She has exceptional knowledge of each of us because of her special fullness of the beatific vision. This vision reveals to each one of the blessed whatever they need to know to make their heavenly happiness perfect. Through Mary’s union with God as His Mother, through her place in the Incarnation and Redemption, and through her position as Mediatrix of grace, she deserves and needs to know our lives fully if she is to fulfil all of her duties and desires adequately. God has made her our Queen and our Mother and gives her the fullness of knowledge which is needed to fulfil these offices becomingly.

Let us pause a moment to consider what the word “becomingly” means here. And what is said of it in regard to Mary’s knowledge holds, too, in regard to her power and love.

God might have become Mary’s son without consulting her, for He is absolute master of all others in all ways. But through Gabriel He told her His plans and asked and awaited her free consent before He assumed flesh of her flesh that with it He might redeem the world. At that time Mary was still a wayfarer on earth. Nevertheless, God treated her with love and consideration, filling her with an abundance of grace to understand and co-operate intelligently, freely, and lovingly in His great plan of redemption. The work of applying the fruits of the redemption continues, and Mary’s co-operation continues. Surely God grants as much consideration to the Queen of Heaven as He did to the girl of Galilee, and He still gives her grace to co-operate intelligently. A mother who spends the salary of her husband intelligently to run their mutual home must carefully consider all the needs, future as well as present, of each of her children. Mary, to be the perfect Mother of the Mystical Body of Christ and dispenser of His grace, needs to know immeasurably more about us than we, or our best friends, on earth can ever know.

GRACE AND HER POWER

Power, the second essential quality of fullness of presence, is Mary’s in an unusual degree because she dispenses God’s grace. Without grace we cannot merit heaven, advance in holiness, help any soul, or perform any act pleasing to God in the spiritual world. Grace, then, is most necessary for us at every moment, and all graces come to us through Mary. Nor is she merely a blind channel through which grace flows as water might flow through a lifeless pipe. Mary’s humble Annunciation fiat brought Christ, the source of all our graces: to earth. Her co-operation brings that grace to each of us. She is still God’s loving handmaid doing His will in all things, but now she enjoys an even fuller knowledge and love as she and the Spirit, her Spouse, work together to foster the Christ-life in each of our souls.

All through the hours of every day Mary offers us the grace we need at that particular moment. She offers it wisely, knowing just why and how we need it. She offers it lovingly, her love for God and her love for us uniting to make her generous in helping us live Christ’s life, the life with which she herself lived and lives. Each opportunity and inspiration we have to suffer for God, to overcome our selfishness, to practise any virtue whatsoever it be, is a clear sign to us that Mary is actively helping us. Each time that we fail to use a grace, we fail her; each time that we do use one, we delight her. Our lives are wrapped up in hers most intimately at every moment.

OUR MOTHER”S LOVE

Mary has the love. Even a brief discussion of this thought would take much space. There is no need, however, for such development here, for a mother’s love is one thing that all understand, and Mary is truly our loyal Mother. Through her Annunciation fiat, her offering of Christ in the temple and on Calvary, and her active co-operation at our Baptism, she has given us supernatural life. She co-operates in our supernatural birth and growth as our earthly mothers co-operate in our natural birth and growth, though in both cases the ultimate source of life is God. We do not speak figuratively but truly and exactly, therefore, when we say that Mary is our Mother. And since our supernatural life is greatly superior to our natural life, Mary is much closer to us than even our natural mothers are.

In God’s plans the lower things are intended to serve the higher. Our physical life is rightly subject to our spiritual life, for if our souls are in grace at death even our bodies shall be glorious eternally. But if our souls are without grace, our bodies, too, will suffer miserably in hell. God, in giving Mary, all the gifts she needs to mother our spiritual life successfully, also gives her all the power she needs over physical things. War, for instance, may be the occasion of spiritual loss or gain to many of Mary’s children; hence we are not surprised that she has the power implied by her words at Fatima: “If the people do these things, I will grant peace to the world.”

Love is a spiritual thing which is not hampered by numbers. A mother who loves her first child with her whole heart does not love it less when she is blessed with more children. Love is a gift from God and His power is infinite. Through God’s grace Mary loves each of us individually, consciously, personally, at all times, as fully and completely and intensely as if each of us were her only child. This is strictly true. Just as Christ her Son died for each of us as fully as if we were the only one for whom He died, so Mary, who offered Him to that death for each of us and who has free access to God’s infinite resources, knows and helps and loves each of us as fully as if eachwere her only child. As Pope Pius X11 wrote, “Mary hears the voice of Jesus saying to her of each of us, as He once said to her of His beloved disciple, “Behold thy son”.”

MARY HELPS US

God the Father loves us beyond our comprehension; His greatest manifestation of this love is the bloody sacrifice of His eternal Son on Calvary for our salvation. Mary offered the same Son to the same death for the same intention at the same hour. She was wholly at one with her Son in making this tremendous sacrifice for us. She did this when she was still a wayfarer on earth. Now that she is confirmed in grace in an added way by the beatific vision, she loves us no less. It belittles her love for Christ to think that she would hesitate to give us anything else that would help us after she has given us Christ, and after she has formed Christ again in the soul of each of us.

At every moment there are souls who reject Mary’s loving help; we can atone for these insults to our Mother by offering to her the work, the worry, the weariness of every hour with patient, even joyful, abandonment to her care. We will never be sinful or fearful or lonely or selfish or sad when we vividly recall that the wonderful Mary walks with us at every step we take. Nor will that sense of futility which burdens many today have any place in the heart of one who remembers that his every action is blessed by her powerful love and grace.

God wishes us to discover Mary as fully as we can. He became incarnate not only to redeem us a nd show us His love, but also to give us an example. And at the very moment of the Incarnation He gave us the example of complete union with Mary. He placed Himself and His work as fully in her trust as He could. The beautiful Marian road to heaven was conceived and built and blessed by God Himself. The best way of discovering His abiding presence is by discovering Mary’s. He comes to each soul through her. “INSPIRED BY THE CERTAINTY”

Of course we know all this through faith and not through vision. But we live by faith habitually; it is natural and easy for us. We have a human faith when we believe and rely upon others around us, as we have to do constantly through every day. And faith in God and in God’s words and plans is far safer; indeed, it is absolutely certain since we know that He has never deceived or been deceived. As the pope’s Assumption prayer reminds us, we are “inspired by the certainty” that Mary’s eyes are turned toward us. We are taught by God’s own Church that we can turn to Mary at any time of the day or night, knowing that she hears our prayer instantly and has the power and love to grant us the answer that will be the best for us.

Faith is a very important virtue, for it opens the door to a new and wonderful world. Through faith we know many things about God and heaven and our souls that are far beyond the dim light of reason. And every article of faith taught by the Church has God’s guarantee, for Christ has promised to be “with it all days” to protect it from error.

INCREASE OF FAITH

Through faith we know that this is truly God’s world by the double right of creation and redemption. His control is absolute, but He shares it generously with Mary because of her generous sharing in His redemptive sacrifice. Our faith assures us of their constant loving guidance. But faith can have many degrees; its growth clarifies much of its implicit teachings. We can increase our faith by prayer, study, and fidelity to the Church. Recalling that Christ said to Thomas, “You believe because you have seen; more blessed is he who has not seen and yet believes,” we will be encouraged to try to increase our faith. Saying, “I believe; O Mary, help me to believe more firmly,” will increase our faith in Mary and in all of the Church’s teachings.

But, perhaps, we have always believed firmly that Mary is watching over us at all times with a mother’s love; and yet have forgotten about her under the stress of daily life. How can we help our memory and our wavering will that we may live up to the wonderful fact of her constant care? What can we do to understand it more fully and appreciate it with all the loving gratitude that God desires?

CONSECRATION TO MARY

One of the best means is to consecrate ourselves entirely to Mary, then to study what this consecration means, and daily or oftener renew both the consecration and the effort to live up to it. One simple but adequate form of consecration is:

“My Queen, my Mother, I give myself entirely to you. I consecrate to you today my eyes, my ears, my heart, my whole being without reserve. Wherefore, good Mother, as I belong to you, preserve me, defend me as your property and possession.”

This consecration can be renewed often and quickly with the opening words, “My Queen, I give myself entirely to you.”

Many writings are available which give the reasons for such a consecration and the advantages which come from it; the pages which follow will discuss how we can live up to it and thereby remember Mary’s presence.

PRAYER AND PRACTICE

The first means is prayer. Living in Mary’s presence through fidelity to our consecration to her is a spiritual activity utterly beyond our merely natural powers. We must co-operate with grace through the use of natural means, but we must place our trust primarily in Mary’s own help. Prayer to her is an actual practice of belief in her presence, for praying to her shows that we believe she hears us and has the power and love to answer us. Prayer will be the chief support of all the other means which follow.

The second means, and one which, like prayer, really accompanies all the others, is practice. Practice means that we live up to our belief. How would we feel and act now if our faith in Mary’s active presence were very deep and strong? If we act thus, it will become deep and strong. By deliberate effort we can train our emotions and actions to follow a certain line. If we often act or think or speak in a certain way because we know that this is the way one who deeply appreciated Mary’s presence would act or think or speak, we are certain to develop a deep appreciation of her presence.

AVOIDING SIN

The third means is the second one stated negatively: avoid sin. If we are in earnest in offering our eyes and ears and mouth and heart to Mary each morning, we will be ashamed to use these very gifts to offend her during the day. If we are tempted to look at dangerous things, we refrain with the prayers, “Help me, Mary, for my eyes belong to you.” If we are tempted to speak unkindly we say, “Mary, remember my tongue is your charge as well as mine; help me to curb it.” When wayward images come to our minds or sinful emotions to our hearts, we resist with the prayer, “Mary, my mind is yours, my heart is yours. Help me to control them more fully that I may truly give them entirely to you.”

If we avoid sin because of Mary’s presence and her abhorrence of sin, her presence becomes more deeply impressed upon our consciousness. This is true for psychological reasons. But sin is always the rejection of grace and grace is absolutely necessary for growth in this supernatural activity of living in Mary’s presence. For this reason, too, we must avoid all deliberate sin if we wish to grow in this virtue.

The wrong kind of fear, doubt, or sadness should be avoided. The presence of a deeply loved friend has great power to overcome depression. Deliberate submission to melancholy can be sinful; and even if our sadness is not sinful, it might readily imply that our consciousness of Mary’s loving care is not very deep, or at least is not active at the moment.

NEW AND GLORIOUS VALUE

Prayerful consideration of the values of this consecration will help us to live up to it. These pages cannot take space to treat all the advantages of this consecration, but as the fourth means of living up to it we will consider this one: Our consecration gives all of our actions a new and glorious value which they did not have before.

Consecration makes a thing sacred. Our consecration brings us a greater share of the royalty of Jesus and Mary andlets Christ’s power impregnate our actions. Our power in the spiritual world is measured by three things only: the possession of sanctifying grace that our actions may have Christ’s power flowing into them; the right intention that we may be working for Christ’s purposes; and the actual effort by which we use the many actual graces given us and make the right intention real rather than mere wishful dreaming. And the final one of “effort” means just that: it means effort and not external success which may or may not follow from that effort.

AN ELEVATED PLANE

We may be poor, sick, untrained, untalented; but in becoming consciously and gladly one with Mary, we are lifted to a plane where our actions become potent for spiritual good for the same reasons and in the same way that Mary’s were so when she lived on earth.

During many hours she swept, dusted, carried water, sewed, cooked, washed dishes or clothes. But these ordinary actions were very profitable for the kingdom of God, for they were done in obedience to God’s wish, done by one habitually using His grace, done by one eager to show her love for Him. Suppose on some day Mary was unable to do a task and hired a servant to do it. This woman might go to the same well with the same jar and bring back the same amount of water that Mary had carried the day before. But that would not mean that she gave the same glory to God by the act. It was the divine life within Mary that made her acts so powerful for good.

God loves Mary with a greatness which we cannot fathom, for she is His masterpiece, Queen and Mother of His own eternal home. This love for her overflows to her children who are united to her, just as God’s love for Christ overflows to us who share in Christ’s merits. And Christ’s love flows to us from His Sacred Heart with a special fullness when our hearts are fully at one with the Immaculate Heart of His Mother.

READING FOR MARY

Spiritual reading is a fifth means ready to help us live our consecration to Mary. There are many splendid pamphlets, magazines, and books being published today about Mary and her place in our life.* Our reading should be sympathetic, intelligent, prayerful, and persevering. A sympathetic reader tries to recapture in his own heart the enthusiasm which stirred the author into writing. An intelligent reader concentrates on the things which are important for him, and takes steps to use them at once in his life. Prayer is necessary because abundant grace is necessary for a deep understanding of spiritual truths. Perseverance is necessary because valuable and long-lasting things grow slowly.

Association, a fundamental law of the memory, is a sixth help for remembering and living our consecration to Mary. It is easy to associate our Marian thoughts with each of our spiritual exercises. As we say our Morning Offering, we can let the words “Through the Immaculate Heart of Mary, I offer thee all . . .” be a daily renewal of our act of consecration. At the Offertory of any Mass which we attend, we can offer all our acts of the day to God through Mary in union with the sacrifice of the Mass. If we belong to a Sodality, the Legion of Mary, the Scapular Confraternity, the Blue Army, etc., it is easy to utilize all of these to foster thoughts about the presence of Mary and help us to live up to our act of consecration.

Associating this act of consecration with our Rosary, in particular, brings us great help. Perhaps that is why Mary at Fatima urged the saying of the Rosary together with consecration to her Immaculate Heart, and why the Pope urges both with equal earnestness. The Rosary in revealing the mysteries of Christ’s life and death, reveals His and Mary’s conquest of sin and Satan, and tells us how to join them in this victory. And when sin and Satan have been ejected fully from our hearts and Christ and Mary lovingly accepted there, we are living our consecration as it should be lived.

THE JOYFUL MYSTERIES

Suppose we go through the Joyful Mysteries of the Rosary with the thought of our consecration in mind to see how the two work together.

THE ANNUNCIATION. God willingly be comes Mary’s son forever. By our consecration we, too, willingly choose Mary for our Mother forever. Our act so closely imitates God’s example at the Incarnation that St. Louis de Montfort chooses the Annunciation feast as the best day of the year for making, or formally renewing, our complete consecration to Mary.

THE VISITATION. Now that God is Mary’s son, He works with her and through her. He wishes to visit John the Baptist and inspires Mary to carry Him there. Itis at Mary’s salutation that Christ purifies John of original sin and gives Elizabeth the gift of prophecy. After our consecration we, like Christ, perform all our works, especially our apostolic ones, with and through Mary.

THE NATIVITY. Before the Incarnation, Mary loved God as her God. Now a new note has been added to her love as she feeds, clothes, and bathes the divine Infant. She loves Him as her God; she loves Him also as her son. After our consecration there is a new fullness of love for us inMary’s heart. The tender care which she showed for Christ in Bethlehem is renewed again as she fosters the same Christ-life in each of us who has followed His example and lovingly surrendered ourselves wholly to her.

THE PRESENTATION. The Second Person of the Trinity gave Himself to Mary as her child that she might offer Him to the Father. We give ourselves to her for exactly the same reason. Mary offers us, her other children, to the Father. God blesses our works more abundantly henceforth because they come to Him through Mary and in union with the works of Christ.

* The article entitled “Know Your Mother Better,” by Stanley Mathews, S.M. (n. 26. Marian Reprints, Marian Library, University of Dayton, Dayton, Ohio), gives and discusses an exceptionally fine list of Marian books.

THE FINDING IN THE TEMPLE. Mary was unhappy without Christ and sought Him until she found Him. She will guide us to the same goal, leading us to search until our hearts rest in God who alone can satisfy them. It was her duty and honour and pleasure to watch faithfully over the Christ Child; it is her duty and honour and pleasure now to watch as faithfully over us. She will seek us with eager love if we ever go astray. In watching over us she is indeed finding and fostering the Christ-life again in each of us.

THE SORROWFUL MYSTERIES

As we say the Sorrowful Mysteries, we might recall that this is Mary’s son suffering in the body which she gave Him. He is suffering for Mary; indeed she is the first and most perfect fruit of the redemption. He is suffering with Mary; they are fully united in their complete submission to the will of the Father. We will profit most from our sufferings if we endure them in union with Christ’s and Mary’s pains and offer them for Christ’s and Mary’s intentions. Through the Communion of Saints it is a fact that Christ and Mary are with us in our suffering, and the divine life which they foster within us gives our trials a value far beyond anything our unaided human nature could ever expect. Since our present life of exile is primarily a life of testing and purification, it is especially important to recall and renew our consecration and union with Mary in times of trial.

THE GLORIOUS MYSTERIES

As we say the Glorious Mysteries, we see the great triumph and glory which Christ and Mary have gained for themselves and for all our race. The more fully we are at one with them, the more fully we shall partake of this glorious victory. Our consecration, therefore, promises us a special abundance of glory through all eternity.

Besides reminding us of our consecration to Mary and of her active presence in all of our works, the Rosary can help us to understand more fully the wonderful personality of this woman who walks with us. We can think with each mystery of the special virtue Mary shows in that mystery, such as her humility at the Annunciation, her zeal at the Visitation, etc. Or we can think about the delight which her company must have brought to those around her—to the Angel Gabriel at the Annunciation, to Elizabeth and John and Zachary at the Visitation, etc. Or we can take some virtue which we admire or need, and see how she reveals it through all of the mysteries,

ADAPTABILITY

For instance, a spontaneous adaptability which enables us to fit in gladly with all of God’s plans for us is a rare and appealing and highly useful virtue. Mary reveals it. She had vowed virginity and prepared for a childless life, but at the Annunciation she accepts a radical change in accepting a child, and a divine child at that, without any upsetting excitement or confusion. Mary, as Luke tells us, liked to ponder over things in quiet seclusion. Yet the Visitation shows her going in haste to serve Elizabeth at the very moment when she has Divinity Itself beneath her heart to meditate upon. At the Nativity she has only a stable for shelter, but provides or improvises swaddling clothes and transforms a manger into a crib.

Nothing seems to disturb her, not even the opposite things of living in a stable and welcoming the Magi. She retires peacefully to the shadows during Christ’s public life; she stands bravely on the top of Calvary before the hostile crowds when it comes time to offer her son to the Father. Adaptability grows harder as we grow older, but Mary, as the Glorious Mysteries remind us, started a brand new life when Christ ascended to heaven and left her behind for many years to mother the infant Church.

THE BLUE OF FIDELITY

Thus we see that associating these pages with our daily spiritual exercises, especially the Rosary, will be very helpful. But even non-spiritual things can help us to remember and appreciate Mary. Her special colour is blue, and blue has long been associated with fidelity. If we are on the watch for it, we will see blue things about us often during the day. Each time that we see blue, it can remind us that Mary is “true-blue,” that she is called the Virgin Most Faithful, that she never failed Christ and will never fail us.

God Himself, thousands of years ago, used blue symbolically to urge men to be faithful to His law; for we read in the early pages of Scripture:

“The Lord said to Moses, “Tell the children of Israel to make fringes in the corners of their garments, putting there ribbons of blue. When they shall see this blue, they will remember the commandments of the Lord”.”

Mary wove these blue threads into Christ’s garments, and through the years when Christ saw them He thought of His Father, who commanded them, and of His Mother, who wove them. Blue can remind us, too, of the abiding law of our Father and the abiding love of our Mother. Clouds come and go, storms grow and die, but the blue of the skies and seas remains forever, as God’s law remains and Mary’s love.

If whenever we see blue we recall its symbolism of faithfulness and its dedication to Mary, we will be constantly reminded of her fidelity to us, constantly urged to remember her faithfully in return. Anything blue, a flower or dress or book or river, can remind us of Mary’s ever-faithful love. Wearing something blue, especially on Saturdays, helps one to recall her loving protection, and it pleases Mary by honouring her day by wearing her symbol of fidelity. It reminds us to pray to her; it is indeed a prayer in itself.

MOTTO AND MEMORY

Writing the namemotto “Mary Always Remembers You” in blue letters on a few white cards and placing the cards where we will notice the name whenever we open a book or drawer or door will be a great help to our memory. With a little thought we can find some places to suit, places which will bring the name often to our gaze without attracting the attention of others.

The motto associates in our mind thecolour blue with Mary’s name and her constant watchfulness over us. It will help to repeat the sentence a few times while recalling the reasons for Mary’s love and some of its manifestations. These thoughts will slip away from us as we resume our daily actions, but seeing our cards will bring them back again. We will keep forgetting, but our written motto will keep reminding us. Rewriting or replacing the motto occasionally will keep us conscious of it. And if at each reminder we repeat her name again as a prayer, we will increase our grace and our fidelity to Mary.

We might write out some thoughts about each of the four words and then refresh our memory from time to time by rereading what we have written. The following lines can be either an example or a substitution for our own thoughts.

MARY ALWAYS REMEMBERS YOU

Mary always remembers you. Just addressing Mary by name is a wonderful prayer. God reveals His thoughts to us through His Church, and the Church honours Mary’s name highly, constantly joining it to the powerful name of Jesus. The Church grants a 300-day indulgence each time the name of Jesus or Mary is repeated or recalled prayerfully. It grants its largest indulgence for any short prayer (seven years each time) for the aspiration “Jesus, Mary, Joseph.” It calls only the names of Jesus and Mary holy, blessing these two names in the Divine Praises and giving only these two names special feast days.

The name Mary is a prayer so brief that it can be repeated hundreds of times in a day, and it is very powerful in resisting the snares of the devil or the weaknesses of our own fallen nature. It is powerful because as Mother of the Creator, Mary is Queen Mother of All Creation. As co-Redeemer and first of the redeemed and Mediatrix of all grace, Maryis queen of our race in a special way. By her place in God’s plans Mary reveals His love for mankind; hence, you have but to mention her name prayerfully to understand His loving mercy more fully and to experience it more abundantly.

Mary always remembers you. Her offering on Calvary was made for your salvation. Easter Sunday’s triumph was yours as well as hers, for it completed Christ’s redemptive act. She worked for you in the years she stayed on earth to mother the infant Church that it might grow strongenough to carry Christ’s graces down through the centuries to you. She remembers you now in heaven as she watches over you day and night to guide you safely home.

Mary always remembers you; in return remember her always, but especially when you are in need. Recall St. Bernard’s plea: “When assailed by the fury of temptations, when sorrow and tribulations surround you, invoke Mary. If you are burdened by the weight of your sins, call upon Mary. In dangers, in anguish and distress, call upon Mary, pronounce the name Mary. Let this sweet name never be far from your lips and never depart from your heart.”

Blue, the symbol of fidelity, is Mary’s colour; she is ever-faithful, ever-present, ever-helping with love. Fidelity in return should mark your devotion to her. Your effort to remember her always in life will assure your enjoying her greater love always in eternity.

PERSEVERING LOVE

Mary always remembers you. Why? Because she is truly your Mother with a mother’s persevering love. Because she offered Christ to death for you and wishes to make that offering successful. Because as Mediatrix of grace it is her place in heaven to watch over you on earth. Because in heaven where she rules with her son, she sees the mansion which He has prepared for the day of your arrival.

How? Actively, with the brave and unselfish devotion which her prototypes Esther and Judith showed in saving their people. Your soul is her castle which she defends against every assault. She remembers you wisely, effectively, lovingly, for God guides her with His knowledge and power and love. With Him and through Him and in Him she remembers you constantly with a love as prudent and persevering and patient as it is powerful.

Mary always remembers you. You in your weakness; you in your glory of grace; especially you who seek her and return her love. She watches over sinner and saint, over the weak and wicked that they may repent, and over the just that they may persevere. You, her children, whoever you are—while life lasts, Mary works for you.

St.Alphonsus was fond of calling her “my Mary.” Each of you can truly say the same. God made her to be your Mother as well as His own. He intended that her glory should help you to know and love Him through your love for her. His dying bequest and command proclaimed that she belongs to you and you to her. On Pentecost, Mary received the Spirit to help her mother the Church for your sake. A true mother spends more time with her child as its needs increase. This is a difficult age; Mary, Comforter of the Afflicted, is increasing the manifestation of her abiding love.

And so we have seen that Mary is truly present at all times, always remembering you with active love. She is the valiant woman of the Scripture: prudent, holy, wise, powerful, faithful. The saints are enthusiastic about her; the angels rejoice to serve her; God Himself finds endless delight in her company. And this glorious woman attends you constantly, loving you with a love far greater than you can ever have for anyone.

The least you can do in return is to greet her occasionally with an “Ave Maria,” a “Good morning, Mother,” with the joyful love which Jesus and Joseph showed when they greeted her in Galilee. This is the least; the most and the best is to give yourself to her completely, turning to her, trusting her, loving her in every act and every hour of your life.

God wishes you to strive for this goal. Mary wishes it. Christ gives you a charming example. By many rights they claim this return for all that they have done for you. By many means they help you to make it. It is a joy to work with them to understand and use this glorious truth: Mary Always Remembers You.

Nihil Obstat:

PERCY JONES, Censor Diocesan

Imprimatur:

@D. MANNIX

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis

19th February, 1959

********

Mary Mckillop

INDEX

MOTHER MARY OF THE CROSS

Mary McKillop was an Australian. She was born on 15th January, 1842, in Brunswick Street, Fitzroy, a few hundred yards from where St. Patrick’s Cathedral, Melbourne, now stands. Baptized at St. Francis” Church, the record of her baptism is in the archives of the Cathedral.

Her parents were immigrant Highland Scots, Alexander McKillop and Flora McDonald, who were married at St. Francis” by Victoria’s first priest, Father Geoghegan, OFM.

HER FATHER

Alexander McKillop had studied for the priesthood, first in Scotland, later at the Scots College in Rome. He reluctantly abandoned his studies, probably through ill health, and returned to Scotland. At that time and place, the vague combination of disappointment and disgrace which expressed itself in the term “spoiled priest” was a strong factor. Almost certainly because of this, his parents left the Catholic Highlands in 1835 and took Alexander with them to find a new life beyond the rim of the world in Australia.

He was one of the tiny group of Catholics who met for prayer in the home of the French carpenter, Peter Bodecin, in Collins Street West, before the arrival of Father Geoghegan. He served as one of the trustees for the building of St. Francis Church, and for the establishment and maintenance of the little school alongside. Apparently successful in business at first, he was ruined in the crash of the Rucher affair, for the solvency of which he had been a guarantor-one of the “Twelve Apostles.” He lost the home he bad built for the family at Darebin, moving from place to place in poverty and desperate embarrassment.

THE FAMILY

Mary was the eldest of the seven children, and bore a great part of the burden of worry. She had little formal schooling: a short time at St. Francis” School, maybe a term at the Academy of Mary Immaculate. Quite patiently, however, she learned much from her father; the treasure he had stored up for a wider field was poured out for his eldest daughter, and Mary McKillop reached a standard of religious and literary education which would have been available from no colonial school of the period.

The later history of “Sandy” McKillop is wrapped in mystery. He seems to have been with the family for some time in Portland; but, after Mary’s removal to Penola and to Adelaide, there is no word of him. Did he go searching for gold still wider afield? Did he embark on some other business venture? Did he just wander off, spending the twilight of his life reaching for the Grail he was reaching for in Scotland and Rome and Melbourne? With the sure wisdom of hindsight, it is certain that nothing he had ever dreamed of doing whether as a priest or a catholic layman, could ever match the glory of the achievement of being the father and the childhood mentor of Mary MeKillop.

THE ROARING FIFTIES

The discovery of gold at Ballarat in August, 1851, brought a dramatic change to the quiet sleepiness of the settlement of Port Phillip. The proud and the free, the reckless and the greedy came pouring in to fan out from Melbourne in a feverish rush to the diggings at Ballarat and Bendigo and a hundred other places across the Colony. The “Roaring Forties” of the Californian gold rushes became the “RoaringFifties” in Australia. In that decade, more gold was produced in Australia than in any other decade of the nineteenth century; and it brought tremendous changes.

Melbourne became a boomtown. Pro perty values soared, as did tradesmen’s wages, the price of foodstuffs. Ships swung idly at anchor in Port Phillip Bay, deserted by their crews to join in the mad rush of clerks and shopkeepers, government servants and farmers to the spreading goldfields. Other ships refused to proceed farther than the port of Adelaide, for fear of desertion by their crews, and a thriving business was established in the freighting of their cargoes to Melbourne and the fields at Ballarat and Bendigo- by bullock wagons! All this resulted in a scarcity of commodities which, paralleled by the use of nuggets and gold dust as currency, triggered wild inflations.

“REPUBLIC OF VICTORIA”

It was in this atmosphere that Mary McKillop grew up. She was a month short of her thirteenth birthday when the unrest of the inrushing population came to a head at Eureka, near Ballarat. For a pathetically proud three days the starcrossed flag of the “Republic of Victoria” flew over the Stockade, to be dragged in sad defeat at the heels of a trooper’s horse on that December Sunday morning of 1854. Yet, for the last eight years of her life, she was to know that same flag as the honoured symbol of One Nation, One People, One Commonwealth of Australia.

CLERK AND TEACHER

She was what must have been a rarity in the mid-nineteenth century, a business girl, for she worked as a clerk with the printing and stationery firm of Sands and McDougall- then Sands and Kenny-receiving the wages of a forewoman. Later, thanks to the education she had received from her father, she was able to fill successfully the post of governess in several places in the Western District and in the Southwest of the Colony of South Australia. Early in the 1860”s, in an attempt to reunite the family, she started a school in Portland in a rented house which had been built by the Hentys. It was a curious kind of enterprise, part private school, part community-supported; and the ever-present shortage of money cramped it from the beginning. It was at this school that Father Tenison Woods came into her life for the second time. She had met him some four years before when she was governess at a station homestead near Penola, which was the headquarters of his widespread parish.

FATHER JULIAN TENISON WOODS

Father Tenison Woods was a man of remarkable and creative mind. Not only was he one of Australia’s great frontier missionaries, but a distinguished explorer and scientist. Among other works he pioneered the geological study of Northern Australia. He is one of the truly great founders of Catholic education in Australia. With all his great gifts, his untiring zeal, he had nevertheless an unhappy and strangely difficult personality. His relations with Mary McKillop were marred by misunderstandings and a curious kind of tyranny on his part. On her part, she never uttered a word against her director of the early years, was always most upset if his part in the founding of the Sisters of St. Joseph would seem to have been forgotten.

A BEGINNING AT PENOLA

It was late in 1865 that Father Tenison Woods asked Mary to undertake the teaching of a school which he proposed to open in Penola. Early in 1866 she crossed the border into South Australia with her two sisters and her brother John. In Penola a disused stable had been rented and, by dint of some hard work by John McKillop it was made presentable enough for the beginning of school. It was the Bethlehem of the Sisters of St. Joseph of the Sacred Heart. On the Feast of St. Joseph, 1866, Mary McKillop, the first Sister of St. Joseph, placed herself in the hands of her Divine Master to teach his little ones. Although she did not take formal vows until the Feast of the Assumption, 1867, in Adelaide, Mary McKillop becoming Mother Mary of the Cross, the 19th of March has always been regarded as the date of the foundation.

ADELAIDE—AND GETHSEMANE

The story of the next eight years is one of extraordinary trial, and of tremendous strength on the part of Mother Mary of the Cross. Time and again she earned in bitter truth the right to the title. Within five years the tiny community had grown to a body of 120 nuns. Maybe the rapid growth, but probably more so the departure from the semi-cloistered life which was the accepted role of a nun, was the cause of the determined opposition. In South Australia which had been founded only 30 years before with the expressed stipulation that “no Irish or Papists need apply,” the enmity of those outside the Church was understandable enough. What was so hard to bear was the opposition within the Church, opposition all along the line of ecclesiastical authority; opposition which, quite patently, its authors were convinced was for the ultimate glory of God. Mother Mary and her daughters in Christ were to learn the bitter wisdom of the warning Christ had given to those who would follow Him: “They will put you out of their synagogues, and think that they are doing honour to God. And it was a struggle conducted by Mother Mary with sublime charity and an unbroken loyalty to the Hierarchy and the clergy.

UNIFIED DIRECTION

The years of trial were punctuated by journeys to Sydney and to Brisbane. Here the problem was the one of government. Mother Mary wanted, because she so clearly saw the necessity, an Australia-wide congregation, with unified direction, and a common training for all her sisters. The Church in Australia- or, more accurately, the Church in the various Colonies which eventually were to become Australia, was not yet prepared for such unity of government or of purpose. And so in 1874 Mother Mary of the Cross, 32 years of age, with trouble facing here everywhere she looked, made up her mind to go to Rome.

THE ROMAN SAGA

It is less than a hundred years ago, but it is difficult today to imagine just what an extraordinary feat of courage and determination that journey was. Mother Mary travelled in lay dress, her habit packed away in her baggage against the day of arrival in Rome. This she did for the double reason of causing the minimum of upset and to save the cost- a very cogent reason, this—of the travelling expenses of a companion. So much swift history has flowed beneath the bridges of the last century, that it is hard to evoke the mood which she must have found in the Rome of 1874. Less than four years before, the Red-Shirts of Garibaldi-without Garibaldi-had won their puny victory at the Porta Pia, had burst into the City of the Popes to place the House of Savoy on the Quirinal throne, and scatter the Fathers of the First Vatican Council.

On their heels the anti-clericals and the atheists of Europe, the haters of the Papacy and the wild-eyed revolutionaries of the world had swarmed into Rome to celebrate the end of the Catholic Church; to humiliate, in every possible way, the Successor of Saint Peter, both in his person and in his representatives. Within the Church, there was a sense of stunned dismay, a feeling that the unbelievable had happened. What interest could there be in the quarter of a million Catholics in a group of colonies on the far side of the world? Above all, what audience could be found in Papal Rome for revolutionary ideas in Australia, with the reckless results of revolution all around them?

EARS THAT WOULD LISTEN

And yet, this young woman of 32 years, without benefit of distinguished birth or patronage, with no advantages of wealth or position, was able to find, and swiftly, ears that would listen, hearts that would sympathize, heads that would plan all the way up to the anguished Pio Nono himself. From Rome to France, to England, the Scotland of her fathers, to Ireland, Mother Mary went serenely on. What surprises is not that she was received coldly in so many places, looked on with suspicion and alarm in so many others. The real surprise is that she won friends, so many steadfast friends, in the most unlikely quarters.

Back to Rome, and to the decision which spelled out eventual success in the long struggle. On her return to Australia, the first General Chapter of the Congregation was held in Adelaide in 1875. There were skirmishes still to be fought, to be lost as well as won; disappointments were to come, setbacks to be endured and by-passed. But the long haul to the top of the hill was over.

MOTHER MARY’S MONUMENT

Since the foundation of the Sisters of Saint Joseph of the Sacred Heart, there have been more than 3,000 members of the Congregation. Today they number some 2,500 in 22 Dioceses of Australia, in the four Dioceses of New Zealand, and even in one Diocese in Ireland, so long and so generously the benefactor of the Church in Australia and New Zealand.

AIMS AND OBJECTIVES

The first two paragraphs of the Constitutions of the Sisters of Saint Joseph of the Sacred Heart read: “The primary end of the Institute is the sanctification of its members by the practice of the three simple vows of

Poverty, Chas tity and Obedience, and by the exact observance of this Rule.”

“The secondary end of the Institute is the instruction of poor children. However, by way of exception and at the request or with the consent of the Ordinary, other works which may be required by necessity can be added to the work of education.”

The evaluation of the primary end, the measure of its success, is beyond our calculation. The secondary end, however, the success of the work of the Sisters, is laid out like a magnificent mosaic for all to see. During Mother Mary’s active leadership of over 40 years she founded 160 Josephite houses, including 12 homes for orphans and homeless and 117 schools with 12,000 children. At her death, the family she had founded in Christ numbered 1,000 Sisters; a record probably unequalled in the history of religious congregations.

CURRENT SITUATION

To bring the record up to date with any kind of accuracy is an impossibility; for the simple reason that the figures are changing almost month by month. There are more than two and a half thousand Sisters, somewhere about 100,000 plus children in their schools; orphanages, maternity hospitals, foundling homes, hostels for working girls and for migrants, motor missions, correspondence courses . . wherever the need, especially of those whom Christ Our Lord called His little ones, there will be found today a Sister of Saint Joseph.

MOTHER MARY AND CAROLINE CHISHOLM

It is interesting to speculate on what influence Mrs. Caroline Chisholm had on the vocation of Mary McKillop. After her return from England in 1854, Mrs. Chisholm spent some three years in Melbourne and was a frequent visitor to the McKillop home in Darebin, which was a Mass-centre for the Catholics of the district.

Caroline Chisholm holds a place which is unique in Australian social history. A convert to Catholicism, she spent her early married years as the wife of an officer of the East India Company, himself a Catholic of Scottish ancestry. Late in the 1830”s they moved to Australia. A woman of strong and fearless character, brilliant practical mind and simple personal piety, she combined a delicate feminine conservatism with a social radicalism that challenged the colonial governments and wealthy interests of the day. She struggled untiringly, both in New South Wales and in England, against almost hopeless odds, for a colonial social policy based on the family and private property. With the help of her husband, she carried through a brilliant work of colonization in the face of tremendous difficulties, opposition from entrenched wealth and religious prejudice.

“SECOND MOSES”

The story of her journeys on the Australian frontier, riding her white horse Captain, leading her armies of immigrants, caught the imagination of England. London Punch called her a “second Moses in bonnet and shawl”:

“Who led their expeditions and under whose command

Through dangers and through hardships

Sought they the Promised Land?

A second Moses, surely, it was who did it all.

Itwas. A second Moses in bonnet and in shawl.”

Perhaps her greatest and most lasting achievement was the establishment of the dignity of womanhood after the degradation of the convict era. Without rank or wealth, and with very meagre support, she settled some 11,000 women in security and independence; and, from the day she dedicated her “talents to the God that gave them,” she steadfastly refused any reward for her work. *

A GREATLY HONOURED GUEST

Caroline Chisholm would have been a greatly honoured guest in the home at Darebin. Her greatest achievements were in the process of development. For the young Mary, then in her early teens, the personality, the burning enthusiasm of the visitor, have made a lasting impression. It is impossible not to come to the conclusion that Caroline Chisholm was an instrument of Divine Providence in the forming of the vocation of the young girl, precisely at the time it must have been stirring in her heart.

There are indications in her life that she had been impressed by the need for the care of the immigrants. In Sydney, she visited the immigrant ships, offered what help she and her Sisters could. Later, at Mackay in Queensland, she taught catechism to the children of the Kanaka workers on the sugar plantations, labourers indentured from the islands of the Pacific. She travelled around in a buggy, collecting the children of immigrants to teach them the truths of their Faith.

The work that the Sisters of St. Joseph are doing today for the migrants, not only for the thousands of migrant children in their city schools, but also in the hostels and holding centres, must be very much in the line of the dreams of their Foundress.

MOTHER MARY’S DEATH

The success of her work, the victory over prejudice and misunderstanding, did not bring an end to the suffering of Mother Mary, so well named “of the Cross.” The last years of her life were spent in a wheelchair, physically crippled by what would today be diagnosed as a stroke. It is a measure of the striking importance of the work she had begun, the appreciation of it even by secular government, that the New Zealand Railways placed a special train at her disposal on her last visit to the houses in that Dominion.

The end came on 8th August, 1909. Gently Death stole to her bedside as the beloved enemy. An enemy, because death is the ceaseless enemy of every living thing; an enemy, because death would take her away from the day-by-day care of her Sisters. Beloved, because death meant for her the lasting rendezvous with the Christ she had known long since, and loved all the days of her life.

“THE PEACE WAS ALWAYS THERE”

In the Holy Year of 1925, the Superior General of the Sisters of Saint Joseph, Mother Lawrence, with Sister Francis as her companion, came out from Rome to visit the small band of Australian students on vacation at the Villa of the Propaganda Fide at Castel Gandolfo. With maybe a dim sensing that they were touching the gossamer threads of history, the students asked her what was her outstanding memory of Mother Mary of the Cross whom she had known so long and so well. One student of those days remembers well her answer.

“It was,” said Mother Lawrence, “her peace . . . a deep, endless kind of peace that came from far inside. Oh, she was often in pain, often tired; she knew disappointments and worries in plenty. Even in the days of success, every mail brought the small agony of a decision to be made, every visit problems great or small; but the peace was always there. Yes, that is what I remember most: the peace of her; the peace that was always there . . .

“LIGHT IN THE DARKNESS”

Almost exactly 50 years before, Mother Mary was herself in Rome. As the days and the weeks of waiting lengthened out, she walked in the footsteps of the millions of Christians pilgrims that Rome had known since the days of the apostles Peter and Paul. There was a particular attraction for her, for these were the places—the churches, the streets, the monuments and the shrines—which had lived so vividly in her imagination since the wide-eyed little Mary McKillóp *See “Australia—The Catholic Chapter,” by Rev. James G. Murtagh: “The Lady and the Legend.” had listened entranced to her father’s stories of his student days in the Scots” Coll ege on the Via Quattro Fontane. At least once she took the short roadway which winds up to the Capitol from the Forum, to pay a visit to the little chapel which is built over the Mamertine Prison, the grim dungeons of which had been the last address of somany of Rome’s more notable enemies. Beneath the chapel is the cell which a thousand and a half years of Christian tradition assigns as the place where Saint Peter wrote his Second Epistle, shortly before his martyrdom. In the gloomy mustiness which even today is the pervading impression of the stark prison, she would have heard the echo of the words of the old man:

“Being assured that the laying away of this my tabernacle is at hand, according as our Lord Jesus Christ also has signified to me.

“And I will endeavour that you frequently have after my decease whereby you may keep a memory of these things.

“For we have not, by following artificial fables, made known to you the power and the presence of Our Lord Jesus Christ; but we were eye witnesses of his greatness.

“For he received from God the Father honour and glory: this voice coming down to him from the excellent glory: This is my beloved Son in whom I am well pleased, hear ye him. And this we heard brought from heaven, when we were with him in the holy mount. And we have the more firm prophetical word, whereunto you do well to attend, as to a light which shines in a dark place, until the day dawn, and the day star arise in your hearts.”

+ 11 Peter, 1, 14–19.

He was on labor again, with James and John under the morning sun of Galilee, as he had been so often, in vivid and startling memory through almost 40 years. In the Garden of Gethsemane, through prisons and floggings, in poverty and tears and the contempt of the world around him. .

The darkness fell away, he saw only the shining face of the transfigured Christ; he heard no groans of fellow-prisoners, no rustles of the horde of rats, only the words from Heaven. He felt no leaden weight of impending torture and death in his heart, only the glad surgeof “Lord, it is good to be here!” the words that had sprung from his heart “when we were with Him in the holy mount.” That had been his real life through all those 40 years, the bright light which had shone in so many a dark place. For Saint Peter, through the storm of his life and the agony of his death on Vatican Hill, it was a citadel of impregnable peace.

A TOUCH OF THE GLORY

And the young Mother Mary understood it so well. For somewhere, sometime, there had been for her a transfiguration of Christ. In Melbourne, in Portland, Penola, Adelaide? God knows. Did it develop gradually in her soul, or was there a dramatic moment, a blinding flash? Once again, only God knows.

But of one thing we may be sure: there was such a transfiguration. Somewhere, sometime, Mary McKillop was permitted to touch a little of the glory, to know a small part of the wonder that is the glorified Christ. For it is this gift that Christ has in His giving for those He chooses for special service. This was the light which she followed, this was the light “which shone in a dark place”; in all the dark places of her life. And with the light came peace, that special kind of peace “which passes all understanding.”

A DEEP INTERIOR FORTRESS

That peace of Christ brings no immunity from suffering, no guarantee against tears and the twisting of the heart, no final victory against the weakness of human nature. Only deep strength it brings with it, the building of a deep interior fortress which no panic may storm, no doubt or opposition may ever really breach. And this peace and its strength Mother Mary needed. She was to know opposition and misunderstanding from those in whom she instinctively had trusted for help and encouragement. She was to know that particular sense of repulsive guilt which only those wrongly accused can ever experience. Poverty was to be a constant companion. It was not the joyful kind of poverty which carries with it the freedom from personal possessions, the total reliance on God’s Providence. Poverty for herself would have been so easy to bear, so happy a burden. The poverty she knew was the poverty of all the Sisters under her care, the hoarding of the pennies and the scraps to build the little shacks that were the convents, to keep open the shelters for the orphans and the helpless. Add to all this the long journeys by coach and bullock-wagon and in small ships, the long battles with authority which had to follow such a delicate path: to go forward along the way she knew to be so necessary for the success of the work Christ Our Lord had assigned to her; and, at the same time and so successfully, to preserve the utmost of respect and reverence for the very ones who opposed that progress so vigorously.

Through it all and with it all, deep down her heart was singing, and the refrain of that song were the words of Simon Peter: “Lord, it is good to be here!”

THE DAY STAR RISES

And even in her lifetime, she was to see “the day star arise.” She lived to see her Sisters busy in the noisy, bustling streets of city suburbs; teaching the children, visiting the homes of the growing industrial jungles of the twentieth century. She saw them spread out through the quiet country towns to the places that nudge the edge of the Never-Never; to Jindabyne and Adaminaby and Nimmitabel and the country where the Man from the Snowy River rode through the pages of Banjo Patterson. The brown line of them was stretched taut across the whole continent from Kalgoorlie and Kelleberrin, Boulder and Southern Cross in the West to Texas and Taroom, Diranbandi and Crow’s Nest in Queensland. Sometimes they were housed in places that looked something like convents. More often their homes were tiny cottages, poor outside and in, housing sometimes three, far more frequently just two Sisters. Their acceptance of the vocation that Christ had given them brought no exemptions from the loneliness of isolation, from the sand and the flies and the heat. It brought with it no guarantee of Mass and the Sacraments, no surety that it might not be months on end before they could count on the visit of a priest.

Poor in the material things, maybe sometimes poorer still in the externals of the Faith, the young girls who had come so joyfully from the cities and the towns grew old fast; but their spirit was forever young. Deep in their eyes was the reflection of the light that Mother Mary had known in all the dark places; away down where only God can hear the murmuring of the heart, there was the song: “Lord, it is good for us to be here!”

“LAND OF THE LONG WHITE CLOUD”

Across the Tasman, the names Mother Mary wrote on her letters, the addresses she searched for on her visits sang a different song: set to the music of the Maoris “Land of the Long White Cloud.” Remuera and Matata were founded in the last century; Paeroa, Rotorua, Whangarei in the early years of the 1900”s; in the South, Port Chalmers, Waimate and Temuka were flourishing before the turn of the century. The Sisters were settled in Temuka for four years before the Diocese (Christchurch), in which it is situated, was founded. It is as good a yardstick as any to measure the growth of the work that Mother Mary did for her Master to reflect that the foundation at Temuka in New Zealand’s South Island took place just 17 years after the beginning in the stable at Penola; only eight years after her return from Rome. .

Wherever they went, whatever the work they found waiting to be done, the daughters of Mother Mary carried the same whispered offering to Christ in their hearts; a whisper that was the long echo of the words of Ruth to Naomi: “Wherever Thou goest I shall go. Thy people will be my people . . . wherever Thou dwellest there will I pitch my tent. Where Thou diest, there also shall I die, and there will I be buried . . . and I pray that nothing in life or in death may ever separate me from Thee . . .

PRIDE AND CONFIDENCE

Australians are proud of Mother Mary of the Cross, all Australians. But there is a large segment of them who have a particular pride in her memory. They number not only the thousands of Sisters who live under the Rule she gave them; but the hundreds of thousands of other Australians whose lives have been significantly formed by what the Sisters of St. Joseph meant to them in their early youth.

They are an extraordinary crosssection of Australia’s people: Young men and young women and grandparents and great-grandparents; husbands and wives and sons and daughters, the poor and the not-so-poor. Some of them found in the Sisters of the foundling homes and the orphanages loving substitutes for the mothers and fathers they were never to know. Others came to the Sisters as scruffy young ruffians from city slums, or as shy little colts from the spinifex and the saltbush. For thousands of them the first real vision of what they could learn, of the opportunities that life held for them came from the gentle voice, the firm dedication of a nun in a brown habit. Above all, they learned how to make Christ Our Lord part of their lives, to translate Him from the prayers they had learned at the bedside into a meaning for all their years on earth.

A cross-section they are: plumbers and carpenters and bishops and milkmen; professors and dustmen and politicians and doctors and lawyers; publicans and priests and nurses and missionaries and actors and singers . . . so many vocations, so many ways of serving God. And all of these vocations owe something, little or very much indeed, to the work begun by Mother Mary McKillop.

They are proud of Mother Mary; proud, and confident, too. Confident that the work which she began will continue, no matter what may be the present difficulties or the fears for the future. Confident, too, that in these lands of the Southern Cross, in which and through the love of which she expressed so eloquently her love of God, her name will always be a blessing, the memory of her in lasting peace.

SOME CHARACTERISTIC SAYINGS

True Charity:

“My own dear Sister s, do all you can to bear with one another and to love one another in God and for God. We must expect to receive crosses; we know that we give them. What poor, faulty nature finds hard to bear, the love of God and zeal in His service will make sweet and easy. Try always to be generous with God.”

The Institute God’s Work:

“Don’t be troubled about the future of the Institute; I am not. He Whose work it is will take care of it. Let us all resign ourselves into His hands, and pray that in all things He may guide us to do His holy will. When thoughts of this or that will come, I turn to Him and say: “Only what You will, my God. Use me as You will”.”

A Welcome to the Cross:

My only anxiety is lest I should fall in a sorrow or humiliation He should put upon me. I cannot say with God’s faithful servants that I love humiliations; but I know they are good for me, and if He sends them I hope I shall be grateful.”

Simple Obedience:

“Beware of self mixing up with the work of God. Fear your own judgement; never let reasonings come between you and obedience.”

Respect for Priests:

“I had rather a dagger were thrust into my heart than hear a word said amongst us against priests—the anointed of

God.”

All for God Only:

“Let us do the will of Him we love, and not by one wilful sigh wish for life or death but as He pleases, and when He pleases; so that no shadow of earthly will or self remain in hearts chosen by the God of Love for Himself.”

PRAYER

O God, who wills not that any soul should perish, but that all should be converted and live, grant, we beseech thee, success to good work begun for Thy Name by Thy servant Mary of the Cross, and deign so to glorify her name before men that an increasing multitude of souls may by her means be brought to eternal salvation. Through Christ Our Lord. Amen.

Nihil Obstat:

BERNARD O”CONNOR. Diocesan Censor. lmprimatur:

@ JUSTIN D. SIMONDS, Archbishop of Melbourne. 29th June, 1966,

********

Mary Spouse of The Holy Ghost

BY MONSIGNOR JOHN T. MCMAHON, M.A., PH.D. AUTHOR OF “PRAYING THE MASS.”

INDEX

“You know well the intimate and wonderful relations existing between Mary and the Holy Spirit, so that she is justly called His Spouse.”-Pope Leo XIII.

“BEHOLD THE HANDMAID OF THE LORD.”

LET us never cease to thank the Holy Ghost for Mary. The expression of thanks that He will appreciate best is that we follow Mary’s example, model ourselves upon her, and live our lives through her inspiration and intercession.

The Annunciation shows Mary’s self-surrender, complete and absolute, with a plea that God may use her as He wishes, use her as His instrument, and thus she paid Him the highest act of worship.

Once Mary made sure of her duty as regards her vow ofvirginity she did not hesitate. St. Luke’s description of the scene reads as if he had received it from Mary herself. “And Mary said to the Angel: How shall this be done, because I know not man

Mary wanted instruction on this point. She was always prepared to do the will of God. The Angel answered at once, saying: “The Holy Ghost shall come upon thee and the power of the Most High shall overshadow thee, and therefore the Holy which shall be born of thee shall be called the Son of God.”

Now Mary knows thatthere was to be no question of a man in the case. To avert the possibility of a doubt in Mary’s mind, the Angel added: “And behold thy cousin, Elizabeth, she also hath conceived a son in her old age, and this is the sixth month with her that is called barren. Because no word shall be impossible with God.” (St. Luke 1. 36–37).

Mary had then to decide, to accept or refuse. She was perfectly free. God, of course, knew that she would not refuse. It was certainly a dramatic moment not only in the life of Mary, but in the history of humanity.

INSTRUMENTS OF THE HOLY GHOST

Through Mary’s help let us offer ourselves, our life’s work whatever it may be, to the Holy Ghost that He might make us better instruments and use us. We all need to open our eyes more widely to His light, to open our ears more wistfully to His inspirations, and to put forth our hands more eagerly to do the will of God. Let us resolve to offer every day of our lives an act of adoration and reparation to the Holy Ghost. We do this by saying the Angelus, the Glory be to the Father, the official prayer to the Holy Ghost, the hymn or the sequence, or out of the love of our hearts let us speak to Him in our own words:

“0 God the Holy Ghost, Whom we have slighted, grieved, resisted from childhoo d unto this day, reveal us Thy Personality, Thy Presence, Thy Power. Increase Your Seven Gifts within us. Let the fire of Thy Love burn up and consume in us every sin and stain of the Flesh and of the spirit. Cleanse us and purify us so that You can use us as Your instrument.

“Help us to hunt down and slay our little faults. He that is faithful in that which is the least is faithful also in that whi ch is greater. They who strive to get rid of little faults will never willingly commit greater sins ?”

During the thirty years at Nazareth Mary was the instrument of the Holy Ghost in being a Mother to the Holy Family. Her daily tasks of housekeeping, washing and mending clothes, and caring for her Divine Son from babyhood to manhood were done with great exactness because done for God. If we follow Mary’s example and do well the little duties of each day, not waiting for something big to happen, the thought that we are instruments of the Holy Ghost will light up every household task, and gilt every daily duty, no matter how trivial.

MARY LEADS US TO THE HOLY GHOST

Devotion to Our Lady, Spouse of the Holy Ghost, means putting ourselves without reserve in her hands. She will lead us to Him, the Spirit of Truth, abiding within us. Devotion is a noble word, a rich word which calls for a giving up of our own opinion. It is a challenge to our constancy and perseverance. It asks us to pause and think before we give in to our own way and inclination.

Mary, who kept His secrets in her heart, will lead us to the Holy Ghost if we ask her each morning to open our eyes to see the path that lies before us, to open our ears to hear His invitations, and to warm our hearts to follow where He leads and to do what He asks of us this very day. We may be in awe of God the Holy Ghost, but surely we can approach Mary, His Spouse, and through her we can seek and find His Divine Counsels.

When day is done let us kneel by our bedside and ask Mary to play the searchlight of His Wisdom on the doings of this day, its thoughts, words, actions, and omissions, and so let us see how we stand in the sight of God. Such a glance will make us humble, and in that humility lies our hope of sharing Mary’s faith in the Holy Ghost abiding within us.

She, the great Mother of men, is filled with love for us by the Holy Ghost. Through the overshadowing of the Holy Ghost She became the Mother of Christ, and remains “our life, our sweetness, and our hope.”

THINKING IN THE HEART

“The Kingdom of God is within you,” Our Blessed Lord assures us. The Holy Ghost is the inner Power, the hidden, silent, secret Source of holiness, as opposed to the modem platform of pomp and flash and noise and show. The Holy Ghost is the direct opposite to the idolatry of the flesh, to the Hollywood way of life, and to worldly ambition.

What is within quickens. The Holy Ghost is a spiritual Dynamo. He is the Current which carries us to that sea of peace which is holiness of life. To become holy we must become interior souls. Without the interior spirit we cannot pray and everything we do goes haltingly. No mere organization, no matter how humanly perfect it may be, can touch our hearts or the hearts of others. The interior working of the Spirit alone can alter us or reform others. The more interior life is the more perfect it is.

The mighty tree grows because it digs deep into the earth and sends its roots down so that its trunk and branches can withstand the storms that blow and the drought that withers. We also grow from within. Our moral strength is within us. And if we would build ourselves into better and holier persons we must plan a few minutes each day to think in the heart. Our lives will bear fruit in proportion as we meditate. Without meditation the breath of self-love will arrest, and, perhaps, destroy our spiritual growth. We cannot Unmask the subtle forms self-seeking assumes unless we think in the heart.

MARY’S INTERIOR LIFE

At the finding of the Child Jesus in the Temple the Gospel narrates: “And His Mother kept all these words in her heart.” (St. Luke 2. 51). That single sentence could be looked upon as the life story of Our Blessed Lady on this earth. She stored all that she heard from Her Divine Son in her heart. Hers was a silent, hidden, interior, meditative life.

We shall thank the Holy Ghost for Mary, His Spouse, by devoting a few minutes each day in silence and solitude to thinking things over. We are frightened by the word “meditation,” thinking that it is only for priests, religious, and chosen souls.Mary at Fatima did not use the word “meditation” but asked us “to keep her company,” that is, to chat with her, to share her thoughts, and to apply the lessons of the Rosary to our own lives as we re-live in imagination the scenes of the fifteen Mysteries of her Rosary.

THE GIFT OF PENTECOST

In making a novena to the Holy Ghost, especially during the one in preparation for Pentecost, let us turn our eyes more often to Mary as she led the Apostles in the Supper chamber with prayer, instruction, and penance while they waited for the coming of the Holy Ghost. No one prepared more carefully for His coming than she did. As before, by her prayers, virtues, and ardent desire, she drew the Son of God to her womb, so now at Pentecost the Holy Ghost was drawn down on the Church by the prayers and sighs of the Mother of God. How ceaseless were her prayers and penances! She knew the importance of the Mystery which was at hand, by which the work of her beloved Son was to be completed and crowned by the Holy Ghost. Thus in a spiritual sense Mary filled the office of Mother at the birth of the Church. For that we should thank her sincerely and ask her to take us by the hand and lead us to the Holy Ghost

No one ever received the Holy Ghost in such fullness as she did. It is true that His gifts of grace did not appear on her in such an outward manner as they did on the Apostles, but grace was stored up in her as spiritual capital from which the early Church drew, and the Church today continues to draw.

The Pentecostal gifts to Mary had an extraordinary effect on the infant Church, and continue to have on the interior life of the Church of today, which belongs to her as the Mother of God. in Apostolic days she encouraged, comforted and instructed the Apostles. They consulted her on their missions and brought home to her all their problems. It may have been on her advice that St. Peter went to Rome to establish the headquarters of the Church at the centre of the world.

It was she who instructed the Apostles and enlightened the four Evangelists on the Mysteries of the Redeemer’s earlier life of which she was the sole witness. Her presence on earth blessed every undertaking of the Apostles. The infant Church harvested a rich crop of souls because Mary was there to petition the Lord of the harvest to grant fruit to the seed sown by His Apostles and disciples.

THE FEAST OF GENEROSITY

Pentecost is the feast of generosity for the Holy Ghost; it is the great Gift of God to us. How the Lord loves the generous giver! And who was more generous in her offering than Mary! “Behold the handmaid of the Lord: be it done unto me according to thy word,” is the golden thread with which Mary weaved every day of her life a glorious tapestry of generosity for God alone.

We shall thank the Holy Ghost for His gift of Mary to us by striving to be generous to Him. He never asks us to attempt anything beyond our limited powers but only to be ungrudging within limits, to give to God the little more that means so much. It is the little extra, the bit over and above that spells generosity, which captivates the heart of God.

O Holy Ghost, the Gift of Pentecost, make us more generous towards You.

O Spouse of the Holy Ghost, His Gift to us, inspire us and strengthen us to answer “Yes” to the whispered invitations of the Holy Ghost.

THANK THE HOLY GHOST FOR MARY. . .

The Angelus is a prayer of thanksgiving to the Holy Ghost for the Mystery of the Incarnation. While saying it let us thank the Holy Ghost for selecting Mary as His instrument, for having her in mind since the Garden of Eden, for the careful choice of her parents, for so richly endowing her, and for making her His Bride.

The ejaculation: “Come, Holy Ghost, fill the hearts of Thy faithful and kindle in them the fire of Thy divine love” should be offered through Mary as an act of gratitude. When we say: “Glory be to the Father and to the Son and to the Holy Ghost” let us form the letter M with a finger on the page, on the kneeler, or in the air, anywhere so long as it is inconspicuously done. This little act acknowledges the threefold relationship of Mary to the Divine Persons, daughter of the Father, Mother of the Son, and Spouse of the Holy Ghost. This small, unnoticed gesture acknowledges that as we receive every grace and blessing from the Blessed Trinity through Mary, so through Mary we render thanks to the Three Divine Persons and give Them glory always.

A frequent turning of the heart to Mary will create a spirit of devotion to the Holy Ghost and that develops into a habitual act of thanksgiving. Let us keep a favourite picture of Our Lady in our Missals and books of devotion. Let it be a bookmark, projecting above the pages to catch the eye and remind us that all prayer gains in its passing through her hands, and that Mary does add something to every prayer to God. Even if the prayer or exercise is not directed to Mary, let us conclude it with an Ave or a Marian ejaculation, that she may endorse this devotion. Whenever God grants us a grace He expects us to accept that favour through Mary and to acknowledge her in doing so.

A SPIRIT OF CONSECRATION

We thank the Holy Ghost for Mary by cultivating a spirit of consecration to her, an utter dependence upon her. Each morning let us consecrate ourselves to God through her and frequently let us think of that consecration during the day. We have no standing before God except that we are her children.

From the moment of the Annunciation when she said: “Be it done unto me according to thy word” we bel ong to her and God only deals with us as united to Mary. St. Louis Marie de Montfort assures us that the image of the unborn babe in its mother’s womb is the true image of our dependence upon Mary. A babe in arms is not a true picture because such a babehas a little life of its own apart from its mother. A mother may desert such a babe and the babe’s life goes on. The unborn babe is absolutely dependent on the mother who carries it.

Let us cultivate the spirit of consecration to Mary as a habitual thank sgiving to the Holy Ghost. Each day is Mary’s day. But there must be order in our spiritual lives, regular hours for prayer, and a few minutes each day for thinking in the heart.

THE SONG OF MARY

Mary is a living lyre touched by the Holy Ghost.

The Song of Mary takes its title from the word with which it begins: “Magnificat.” In earlier times it was known as

“The Gospel of Mary,” “The Virgin’s Prophecy,” and, perhaps, the most beautiful title of all, “The Virgin’s Nuptial Song.” It was the custom at weddings in Palestine to express appropriate sentiments in extempore song. But Mary sang her own bridal song, the song of her espousal with the Holy Ghost, the song of the Bride of the Holy Ghost, of the union of God with mankind, of the marriage of heaven and earth, the hymn of the Incarnation. The Magnificat is steeped in the hymns and prophecies of the Old Testament with which Mary, like every pious Israelite, was familiar. In her song Mary proclaims the fulfilment of ancient prophecy, and makes a new prophecy for a new era. The Magnificat is the crown of Scriptural song, for it surpasses all the canticles of the Old Testament and is itself the first canticle of the New.

In the first great happiness of her Divine Motherhood, Mary, under the inspiration of the Holy Ghost, her Spouse, pours from her soul her exultant, wondrous song, simple in expression but of mysterious depth. The song may be divided into three parts. First, Mary thanks God on her own behalf, then on behalf of the world redeemed, and finally on behalf of Israel, God’s chosen people.

“My soul doth magnify the Lord;

And my spirit hath rejoiced in God My Saviour.

For He hath regarded the humility of His hand-maiden;

For behold, from henceforth all generations shall call me Blessed;

For He that is mighty hath done great things to me; and holy is His Name.”

A literal translation from the Greek text would be:

“My soul extols the Lord, And my spirit leaps for joy in God My Saviour.”

The word “magnify” does not mean to make great, for no one can increase the infinite greatness of God; rather is it used in a sense of declaring great. St. Elizabeth had declared that Mary was great: “Blessed art thou among women and blessed is the fruit of thy womb.” Our Lady is quick to refer her greatness to its true source, God.

“Exult” is a better word that “rejoice.” Mary sings her soaring song of joy that God has so honoured His obscure maid.

“The humility of his hand-maiden” means the lowliness of his slave.

“From henceforth all generations shall call me blessed” are daring words for a young country girl to make in an un- important village in Palestine. But the prophecy is all the greater if it is fulfilled. And how wonderfully it has been fulfilled in this our Marian age!

Mary of Nazareth makes the staggering statement that all future generations of mankind will honour her memory. The greatest masterpieces in the art galleries of Christendom are pictures of Mary of Nazareth. No woman has ever been eulogized by the poets as Mary. Mary’s name and titles are written across the map of the world; cities and towns, hills and mountains, capes and bays, rivers and provinces are named after Mary. The number of churches dedicated to her is past counting. Who can estimate the number of children with the name of Mary? Countless generations have prayed to her daily and died with her name on their lips, “0 Mary, 0 Mary, how great is thy name!”

“He that is mighty hath done great things to me.” The Mighty One, He Whose Name is Holy, has done this sublime thing to Mary, making her His Bride and Spouse. Mary’s explanation is that the Mighty One was honouring the lowliness of His slave.

Through Mary the Seat of Wisdom, we hope to be wise. She will teach us that no man is wise unless he falls upon his knees in deep humility. How sorely the modern world needs Mary to bring it to its knees! The advance of science has sharpened the intellect, while the hearts of men remain dark and cold. Recourse to the Holy Ghost, and to Mary His Spouse, is the urgent need of this proud age.

“And His mercy is from generation unto generation,

To them that fear Him.

He hath shown might with His arm:

He hath scattered the proud in the conceit of their heart.

He hath put down the mighty from their seat,

And hath exalted the lowly.

He hath filled the hungry with good things;

And the rich He hath sent away empty.”

Having glorified God for His favours to herself, Mary now glorifies and praises God for His mercies to men. She echoes here the sentiments of the psalmist, David, who had declared: “But the mercy of God is from eternity and unto eternity, upon them that fear Him.” (Ps. 102. 17). The mercy promised by God to Abraham and to his seed forever is in her mind and heart as she sings her song.

She looks into the future and sees the Divine revolution in which the pride and arrogance of man are overthrown by the foolishness of the Gospel. God shows might in His arm; the proud are scattered; the mighty put down from their seat; the rich sent hungry away; while the humble are exalted and the hungry filled with good things. So does Mary proclaim in advance the Beatitudes of the Gospel and anticipates St. Paul’s preaching:

“Where is the wise? Where is the scribe? Where is the disputer of this world? Hath not God made foolish the wisdom of the world? And the base things of this world and the contemptible hath God chosen, that no flesh should glory in His sight.” (I Cor. 1. 20).

“He hath given help to His servant Israel.

Being mindful of His mercy;

As He spoke to our Fathers, to Abraham and to his seed forever.” -(Luke I. 46–55).

Finally, Mary thanks God for His favours to Israel, His chosen people. The Messiah was to be born in Israel of the seed of Abraham. Despite the sins of the chosen people, Jehovah has mercifully remembered His promises to their fathers, the Patriarchs. Now He deigns to fulfill those promises. Mary, an Israelite of the seed of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, has become the Mother of the Messiah.

In the “Magnificat” Mary makes a solemn act of thanksgiving, the first to fall from Jewish lips for the Incarnation. She, a daughter of David, a child of Abraham, looks back along the course of the centuries to the promise given by God to Abraham and her joy and gratitude is in her song that the promise has been fulfilled in herself.

The Church takes up the song of Mary. She chants or recites it daily in her Office, reminding her children of God’s mercy to us in the Incarnation, and of the greatness of her through whom this blessing has come. During the Office in choir all must rise and stand with uncovered heads for the singing of the “Magnificat.” Another mark of respect is the incensing of the altar during the “Magnificat.” The song of Mary is the only canticle or hymn that from remote antiquity has been prefaced by making the Sign of the Cross.

Although the “Magnificat” is primarily Mary’s praise of God, yet, we see in it God’s intention that men should praise Mary. Mary praises God in herself and herself in God. She extols the power and wisdom and goodness of the Most High, for the reason that these attributes are so wondrously shown in her who is His Mother. Not to honour Mary is consequently not to honour God in the noblest work of His hands. The Holy Ghost moved St. Elizabeth to recognize and revere the Mother of God and to proclaim her “blessed among women. That is why the humble handmaid of the Lord does not chide St. Elizabeth for her praise. She teaches us that she is worthy of honour, worthy because God has so honoured her. The Holy Ghost speaks through the lips of Mary her right to our praise and veneration:

“Behold from henceforth all generations shall call me blessed. Because He that is mighty hath done great things to me: And holy is His Name.”

MARY, HIS INSEPARABLE COMPANION

“When the Holy Ghost, her Spouse, has found Mary in a soul, He flies there. She is the inseparable companion of the Holy Ghost in all His works of grace. Unless the Holy Ghost finds Mary in a soul, He works none of His marvels there. We cannot have a perfect fidelity to the Holy Ghost without union with Mary.”-St. Louis-Marie de Montfort.

The Legion of Mary is full of the Spirit of St. Louis-Marie de Montfort. That spirit might be summarized in his own words that “Mary is the inseparable companion of the Holy Ghost.” Over the standard of the Legion is the Dove of the Holy Ghost. In the picture of the Legion the widespread wings of the Dove of the Holy Ghost surmount Mary and her apostolate for souls. The Legionary Promise is addressed to the Holy Ghost. Every meeting of the Legion opens with the invocation and prayer of the Holy Ghost. The Legionaries seek personal holiness through the union of the Holy Ghost and Mary. They appeal to the Holy Ghost to deepen their devotion to Mary, His Spouse, and they ask Mary to lead them and all they hope to do to the Holy Ghost. The Legion is convinced that the sanctification of themselves, and of the other members of the Mystical Body, is dependent on the power and operation of the Holy Ghost.

TRUE DEVOTION IS FROM THE HOLY GHOST

True devotion to Mary means to link her always with the Holy Ghost. The Holy Ghost is the Mighty One Who has done such great things to Mary. He will do great things for all who approach Him through Mary, His Spouse. The Legion of Mary has been guided by the Holy Ghost in prescribing for its members interior prayer and apostolic action. Prayer and action, interior and exterior formation, prayer before action and action to follow prayer, to pray to act and to act because of prayer-this is the explanation of the extraordinary fruits of the Legion.

The Legion has been led back to the spirit of apostolic times by Mary. We have many societies, confraternities, sodalities and pious unions but none of them have combined, as the Legion does, prayer and action. The Legion has the wisdom of the saints who prayed fervently because everything depended on the good God and then worked as if all depended on themselves. Inner holiness and apostolic work are the two wings on which the Legionary advances in grace and co-operates with Mary in the salvation of the world.

THE LEGIONARY PROMISE

Most Holy Ghost, I, (Name of candidate),

Desiring to be enrolled this day as a Legionary of Mary,

Yet knowing that of myself I cannot render worthy service,

Do ask of Thee to come upon me and fill me with Thyself,

So that my poor acts may be sustained by Thy power, and become an instrument of Thy mighty purposes. But I know that Thou, Who hast come to regenerate the world in Jesus Christ,

Hast not willed to do so except through Mary,

That without her we cannot know or love Thee,

That it is by her, and to whom she pleases, when she pleases, and in the quantity and manner she pleases, That all Thy gifts and virtues and graces are administered;

And I realize that the secret of a perfect Legionary service

Consists in a complete union with her who is so completely united to Thee.

So, taking in my hand the Legionary Standard, which seeks to set before our eyes these things, I stand before Thee as her soldier and her child,

And I so declare my entire dependence on her.

She is the mother of my soul.

Her heart and mine are one;

And from that single heart she speaks again those words of old: “Behold the handmaid of the Lord;” And once again Thou comest by her to do great things.

Let Thy power overshadow me, and come into my soul with fire and love,

And make it one with Mary’s love and Mary’s will to save the world,

So that I may be pure in her who was made Immaculate by Thee;

So that Christ my Lord may likewise grow in me through Thee;

So that I with her, His Mother, may bring Him to the world and to the souls who need Him; So that they and I, the battle won, may reign with her for ever in the glory of the Blessed Trinity. Confident that Thou wilt so receive me and use me-and turn my weakness into strength this day, I take my place in the ranks of the Legion, and I venture to promise a faithful service. I will submit fully to its discipline,

Which binds me to my comrades,

And shapes us to an army,

And keeps our line as on we march with Mary,

To work Thy will, to operate Thy miracles of grace,

Which will renew the face of the earth,

And establish Thy reign, Most Holy Ghost, over all.

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.

PRAYER TO MARY, SPOUSE OF THE HOLY GHOST

O Mary, thou spotless Bride of the Holy Ghost! Thou art the glory of Jerusalem,, the joy of Israel, the honour of our nation. Thou art the valiant woman who didst crush the head of the serpent when thou didst offer thy Divine Son to the Heavenly Father in the love of the Holy Ghost, for the salvation of the world. Through the merits of this previous sacrifice and through the sufferings of Thy Son, obtain for us the gifts of the Holy Ghost I thank the Holy Ghost that He has chosen thee as His Bride and constituted thee the dispenser of His graces. Look upon me with thy compassionate eyes, upon my distress and needs. Help me that I may never lose the grace of God nor defile the temple of the Holy Ghost, but that my heart may ever remain His holy dwelling, and that I may with thee eternally praise and bless the Holy Ghost in heaven. Amen.

Our Lady, Spouse of the Holy Ghost, pray for us.

SHE IS OUR LADY OF LIGHT

Mary is the Seat of Wisdom, the prudent Virgin, the Mother of Good Counsel, the confidant of God Himself, for she was that for three and thirty years on earth. She is Our Lady of Light, filled by the Holy Ghost not only at her Immaculate Conception, her beautiful Annunciation, but again at Pentecost She is given motherly queenship over all hearts, that she may love and understand and help all hearts. As Faber wrote, her heart was broken that it might wider be, “that in the vastness of its love there might be room for me.” And she is Our Lady of Paradise-full of joys, of virtues, of smiles, of welcoming.

HIS IMMACULATE SPOUSE

O Holy Ghost, give me a great devotion towards Mary, Thy Immaculate Spouse, so that in her and by her Thou mayest form in me Jesus Christ in a lifelike way, unto the fullness of His perfect age.

Mother of God, Immaculate Spouse of the Holy Ghost, I give Thee my whole self, soul and body, all I have or may have, to keep for Jesus, that I may be His for ever more.

O Lady of Light, Spouse of the Holy Ghost, pray for me.

O Mother of God, sanctified by the Holy Ghost in Thy Immaculate Conception, pray for me.

“Kindle in Us the Fire of Thy Love.” The Life of the Holy Ghost is sym bolized by fire. Fire makes action. Fire creates an appetite for more action. A thing of fire will spread. When we ask Him to kindle in our hearts the fire of His Divine Love, we really ask Him to propel us to action, action on ourselves first, and then because of our increase in holiness, action on and for others for the love of Him. This is the new commandment of the Holy Ghost-action this day on behalf of the spiritual growth of others because we love Him.

A PRAYER FOR AUSTRALIA

Holy Ghost, we beseech Thee, descend upon our lovely morning land, dedicated to Thee. Change the hearts of the enemies of the Holy Church. Convert them to the true faith. Guide our leaders. Give us the spirit of justice and charity. Make us worthy of the name-”The Southern Land of the Holy Ghost.” Amen.

********

Mary Tudor And The Protestants

BY D. G. M. JACKSON, M.A

INDEX

THE reign of Mary Tudor, the first of England’s five Queens Regnant, has left an evil memory behind in the land over which she ruled, and in the English-speaking world which inherits its historic tradition. Her successor, Elizabeth I, reversed her policies and rooted up once more the ancient Catholic Faith which she had sought to re-establish: the Protestants whom her Government had persecuted returned to power, and launched against the dead Queen, her Bishops and Catholicism a campaign of propaganda throughout the land, of which the most famous organ was the brilliant, vivid and mendacious Book of Martyrs of John Foxe.

The “hate-campaign” was sustained for generations, and was successful in creating a deeply-rooted prejudice, among Englishmen, against the Faith of their Catholic ancestors. The marks of this propaganda are still visible, even in this present time, when Protestant religion has become a vague shadow for vast multitudes, and the religious controversies of the Reformation period are largely forgotten.

It is true that since the last century, the name “Bloody Mary” no longer appears in historical textbooks: and recent historians have done much to rehabilitate the character of the Queen. The latest of her lives, by a non-Catholic historian, Miss Prescott, is written with sensitive sympathy for her aims and outlook and splendid moral courage: the great Professor Keith Feiling has called her “this most upright of the Tudors.” But the smoke of the fires of Smithfield still hangs about her name, and that of the Church which she served so devotedly.

The story of the long, bitter persecution of Catholics under Elizabeth I and the Stuarts is hardly at all remembered, save by the remnant of the old Faith: but the memory of the brief anti-Protestant drive of four hundred years ago survives. Because of it, a great number of people still respond coldly to accounts of the contemporary persecution of Catholics in Eastern Europe and Asia. “If these people had the power,” they reflect, “they would probably treat their opponents in the same way- just as they did in the reign of Mary.”

THE HERETIC: PROTESTANT AND CATHOLIC VIEWS

My object is not to justify the Marian persecution which was unjustifiable, as I hope to show, even in terms of the Catholic Canon Law of the Queen’s own time. It is rather to explain the situation which led to this grave crime and gross error of policy, and to clear up some common misconceptions about it. To begin with, it is necessary to understand the attitudes of both sides to “religious freedom” and the use of the civil power against religious dissidents.

It has been suggested by historians of the reign that Mary Tudor, as a devout Catholic regarded the burning of heretics as a sort of sacrifice to God. This idea of a human holocaust acceptable to the orthodox Divinity has never, of course, been held by Catholics at any period in the Church’s history- though, curiously enough, it is to be found among some individuals in the ranks of those whom the Queen persecuted—for example, the Reformer, Bullinger, who advises that the Genevans should put the Unitarian, Servetus, to death, that the world may perceive their city’s desire to have Christ’s glory maintained inviolate!

The great Knox, too, prayed that God in His mercy might “stir up some Phineas, Helias or Jehu, that the blood of abominable idolators may pacify His wrath.” The Catholics of the sixteenth century did, however, hold that the heretic was a criminal, and a very great one, like the thief, the murderer and the traitor, and that no truly Christian State could treat his perversity with tolerance. “There cannot,” declared Cardinal Pole, in a sermon of 1557, “be a greater work of cruelty against the commonwealth, than to nourish or favour any such. For, be you assured, there is no kind of treason to be compared to theirs: who, as it were, undermining the chief foundation of all commonwealth, which is religion, maketh an entry to all kind of vices in the most heinous manner . . .”

In this principle they were fully agreed with their Reforming opponents—the only difference lying in the estimate of what was heresy. For the Catholic, it was the evil will which led a man to set his own opinion against the teaching of the Church—for the Protestant, the malignant blindness which led him to resist the “manifest witness of Scripture,” as interpreted by truly Godly men. In Cranmer’s proposed Canon Law Code, drawn up in Edward Vl’s reign, there is a long list of heresies, including “Roman” ones concerning the Papacy and the Mass, and also Lutheran, Anabaptist, Arian, Pelagian and other errors.

A complete machinery was to be set up for the trial and punishment of those who cling to these false beliefs—they were, if they proved obdurate against warning, exhortation and excommunication, to be handed over to the civil authority to be punished: and there can be no doubt ( as the historian Maitland has pointed out ) that the civil authority was expected to carry out the traditional sentence of death by burning. In this, at least, Cranmer and his associates were in perfect “continuity” with their mediaeval predecessors: the difference was that they had erected a new Royal standard of orthodoxy in place of that of the Holy See. Nor was this intolerance merely theoretical- for Cranmer and other Reformers took part in the condemnation of dissidents who were burnt for their beliefs, both under Henry VIII and Edward VI. The judgment of fire upon Joan Bocher, of Kent, carried out in that reign, was loudly applauded by the Reformers, even in the midst of their own trials for heresy under Queen Mary.

It is necessary to understand, then, that the cause for which the victims of Mary’s persecution suffered had nothing to do with “religious freedom.” The apostles of the Reformed versions of Christianity were quite as ready to shed the blood of those whom they held to be wrong as the adherents of the old Religion- and the additional paradox attaches to their attitude, that they had nothing to advance in proof of the iniquity of the views they condemned, except their own private judgment that they were in error. In Cranmer’s case, that judgment itself was highly variable at different periods. In 1538 he pronounced condemnation upon a man, John Lambert, on account of disbelief in Transubstantiation: yet long before 1553 he had abandoned that belief himself, and it is set down in his canon law code as a heresy worth of death!

As for Ridley, another of Mary’s Martyrs, he never swerved from the belief that “outside the Church there is no salvation.” He held it as a Catholic—and later, when he joined his Archbishop in condemning Joan of Kent to the flames, even until the time when he himself perished. He merely changed his views about which religious body was the true Church. Naturally, the Protestants who suffered under the Catholic regime regarded their persecutors as wicked and tyrannical children of Satan: but what they resented was not the State machinery of coercive laws against heresy: it was the use of that machinery to uphold “idolatry” and the “Roman Antichrist” instead of for the extirpation of falsehood in the name of true religion as they understood it.

THE STATE OF RELIGION IN 1553

Let us glance, now, at the religious counter-revolution which culminated in the tragedy of the Marian persecutions. The accession of Queen Mary had come at the end of a period of successive changes in religion which had produced widespread chaos, both in belief and in social conduct. Even before 1529, when Catholicism had been the accepted faith of Englishmen from the King downward, the ordinary Catholic had been none too well informed about his Faith, and the Divinely appointed role of the one Church of God, as the medium by which Christians gain a hold of Supernatural Truth. Since that date, there had been a veritable spate of novelties preached as “truth” to him with official sanction.

The ancient belief about the Holy See-which had been taken for granted rather than held with zeal- was denounced in a regular campaign of sermons from parish pulpits: customary cults and pieties were discredited and popular heretical literature began to spread widely through the country, even in Henry VIII’s time. Such great shrines as that of St. Thomas and Our Lady of Walsingham were violated and pillaged: the monasteries were everywhere destroyed and the religious life treated as contemptible. With only a handful of heroic exceptions, lay leaders and high ecclesiastics not only accepted the doings of “the King’s Grace” without protest, but collaborated with them actively, too, when called upon.

Then had followed the reign of Edward VI with its further developments—the bringing in of foreign Reformers and their doctrines, the overthrow of the Mass, the Sacrament of the Altar, and all that remained of Catholic rite and religious custom, and the imposition of two successive English prayer books—all this accompanied by the pillage of churches and by open insults and outrages directed against every kind of traditional sanctity. “Anabaptists” and sectaries of all sorts had been rampant through the land; everything in faith and morals had been called in question, and Government- a prey to the factions of the greedy profiteers of the great spoliation of monasteries and guilds—had been incapable of establishing any firm order in Church or State. Protestants and Catholics alike agree in the account they give of this anarchy in which the work begun by Henry VIII had issued—and Protestants of the official Edwardine school of thought, such as Hooper and Cranmer, deplored it as strongly as conservatives like Gardiner,

What was the state of mind of the “common man” in 1553, at the end of these twenty years of violent changes sponsored by the authorities whom he had been accustomed to follow and revere, and of radical propaganda carried on—almost unchecked—by a small but zealous minority of miscellaneous zealots? That he retained a nostalgic attachment to “the old ways” and the traditional sanctities may be held as certain: it is clear that, even in London and the South-east, where the new idea and beliefs had made most headway, the accession of Mary was welcomed as bringing with it a hope of “governance” and a settlement of Church and State on conservative lines. But how much genuine Catholic Faith and loyalty there was in this conservatism is another matter entirely: and it is easy to be overoptimistic on the subject.

THE RULERS OF CHURCH AND STATE

In the ruling classes, cynical materialism and expediency were the order of the day: they could be counted upon to “change their coats” once again, to meet the views of the new Sovereign—they would acquiesce outwardly in her settlement, as they had in those of Henry and Edward, always provided their gatherings of Church plunder were not placed in jeopardy. That those around her were, for the most part, devoid of real faith in anything, Mary herself knew very well: yet she could not possibly dispense with them, though she knew them secretly contemptuous and hostile towards her and her ideals. They alone had the experience of administration and public affairs necessary for the conduct of Government. Even those who had been actively engaged in Northumberland’s conspiracy against her had to be taken back into the Council after a formal submission, to be made the instruments of the Catholic restoration policy.

Among the higher clergy, her support came from people who had, almost to a man, submitted to Henry’s Royal Supremacy, and therefore apostatized from the Faith. Most of them had denounced the Papacy at the King’s Command; her Chancellor, Bishop Gardiner, had written a learned work of controversy to maintain Henry’s cause, with a preface by Bishop Bonner, of London. The Bishops showed, by their conduct in the next reign, that they had well learned their lesson, and were not prepared to subscribe to another abject submission to Royal Supremacy: but, as official maintainers of the Catholic cause, and especially as administrators of the heresy laws, they were in a singularly vulnerable position.

It was open to the heretics who came before them to point out that those who sat as their judges for disloyalty to the Catholic Faith had themselves long taught heresy, and had returned to their allegiance to the Holy See only when the profession of that allegiance became once more safe, and also necessary to the holding of office in the Queen’s Church. A number of the accused got in some shrewd blows on these lines, when they were brought before the episcopal courts to answer charges relating to their beliefs.

THE PROTESTANT OPPOSITION

To conduct a policy of full Catholic restoration, under these conditions, was exceedingly difficult- especially against opponents who were active, zealous and determined, and who showed themselves, from the first, to be prepared to stop at nothing in the matter of hostile propaganda and treasonable conspiracy. They did not wait to be attacked before making it clear that they would endure no return of the old Faith, even if it were coupled with toleration. They denounced the Queen in leaflet propaganda, as well as the “hardened and detestable papists” surrounding her throne. Cranmer himself- involved as he already was in the Northumberland plot- published a furious diatribe against the Mass.

Mary, so far as we know, had no personal wish to revive the old laws against heresy; she declared on her accession that she would “force no one to go to Mass,” and that the settlement of religion must wait till Parliament met. Meanwhile, those of the Protestant party who wished to leave the country were given every encouragement to do so: and a well organized exodus took place of the clerical leaders and well-to-do. These settled in considerable communities in the Empire and Switzerland, whence they were able to pursue their propaganda warfare, and foment plots and risings, while training a new clerical equipe for the day of happy return which they did not cease to anticipate.

It was clear that the Protestant spirit was irreconcilably militant: as Miss Prescott emphasizes, they did not intend to allow any return, even though it were coupled with toleration, to the old ways of the Church. In dealing with such men as these, even a modern liberal regime would have been forced to measures of repression in order to preserve public order. There was, for instance, the gang who tried to rush the Catholic preacher at St. Paul’s Cross, just after the Queen’s entry into London, with shouts of “Kill him! Kill him!” Others disseminated pamphlets advocating the “extermination” of the new Lord Chancellor, Gardiner, before a single Protestant had been touched on the ground of his religion!

WYATT’S REVOLT AND THE CATHOLIC RESTORATION

The project of the Spanish marriage of the Queen was generally unpopular, and the plottings of Protestant exiles and their secret friends at home against the Government went on apace. There were schemes to murder the “ProSpanish” Councillors, Arundel and Paget, and to dethrone the Queen in favour of her sister, Elizabeth, who was to be married to Courtenay, Earl of Devon. Finally, a vast conspiracy developed, with risings planned to break out simultaneously in Kent, the Midlands and the West. Fortunately for Mary Gardiner got wind of it beforehand; and his move to arrest some of the leaders early in 1554 drove one of the most desperate of them, Sir Thomas Wyatt, to rise six weeks before the time appointed.

There is no need, here, to describe the Wyatt revolt, which was a very serious business indeed, and might well have overturned the throne, but for the incompetence of its leader, and the splendid courage of Queen Mary herself, which aroused an enthusiastic response from the Londoners. It is worth noticing, however, that the Protestant leader Peter Martyr, on the Continent spoke of the “large number of mass-priests” hung up by the rebels, without any expression of disapproval: while John Burcher, writing to him, rejoices openly, stating the number as three hundred.

It would seem, in fact, that the revolting Protestants killed more Catholic clergy in two weeks than the number of Protestants executed by “Bloody” Mary’s Government in four years—yet this is never even adverted to in the ordinary textbook accounts of her reign! Once again, I would recall to your minds that when Burcher wrote no Protestant had yet suffered at all for religion—the heresy laws had not been revived, and the National Church had not even been reconciled with the Holy See! His zeal was based purely on a conscientious, bloodthirsty hate for false religion—the very thing attributed to the Queen herself in the anti-Catholic legend.

The conspirators of the previous year had been treated by the Queen with a leniency unexampled in English history—even the young pseudo-queen, Jane Grey, had been spared. This lady and her husband were now put to death—a horrible deed, since, even if technically guilty of treason, they were mere children, and, as the Queen well knew, tools in the hands of others. “Reasons of State” cannot excuse this evil deed- though it was typical of the time. But the other eminent persons who suffered well deserved their fate, and of lesser folk convicted and condemned, the Queen pardoned four hundred—the overwhelming majority. Even after this second provocation, in fact, her mercy is in striking contrast with the savage methods used by Henry VIII, Edward VI’s Council and Elizabeth I in dealing with rebellion.

The Protestants themselves, however, had done everything they could to make toleration impossible, whatever the original ideas of the Queen may have been. It was, in any case, utterly alien to the thought of the time, which held it to be the duty of Christian princes to repress religious error as the gravest of public evils.

CATHOLICISM RESTORED

The next stage of restoration was a repeal of the whole of the anti-Papal legislation since 1529, wiping out the whole structure of Henry VIII’s religious revolution- so far as the legal situation was concerned; and making England “officially Catholic” once more. In the episcopate of the restored Church, however, almost all had “bowed the knee to Baal” at some time in their lives: and half of them had originally been made Bishops by grace or Baal- i.e., of Henry VIII, as Supreme Head of the English Church. The position of these was legalized from the Catholic standpoint, while other men of a new, non-bureaucratic type were placed in the vacant sees: and under the guidance of Cardinal Pole—a saintly Archbishop free of the taint of the Henrician apostasy- plans were drawn up for a thorough reform of ecclesiastical education, and for the remedy of long-standing abuses of the old Church.

It is worth noticing, incidentally, that the Henrician and later Protestant settlements contributed nothing whatever to alter these evils of the late mediaeval system, and that there was no proper system for training Anglican clergy until the nineteenth century! There were episcopal visitations, also, for the restoration and ordering of parish worship, which had fallen into a shocking state in the course of the last reign. Had the Queen lived a decade longer, this beginning of a positive programme might have borne fruits, and such works as the new manuals of Christian Doctrine, published by Bishop Bonner, of London, and Bishop Watson, of Lincoln might have contributed to the formation of an instructed Catholicism among the neglected laity. Even in the brief period allotted to Pole’s reform movement, there was generated a new spirit which was to appear in the Catholic exiles of the next reign, as well as in the resistance of many others who remained at home.

THE PERSECUTION—WHOSE RESPONSIBILITY?

Our concern, however, is with the measures now taken to “restore order” by dealing with heretics. The statutes which were used for this purpose were not of the Government’s own framing- they were those originally enacted against the Lollards in the early Lancastrian period, which had remained in force until the end of Henry VIII’s reign. Their repeal in 1547 had not prevented burnings under Edward VI, since it was still open to the Government to impose the death-sentence upon a heretic convicted in an ecclesiastical court; and, in fact, Cranmer and his associates had doomed Joan Bocher to the flames in 1550, and the Dutch Anabaptist, Van Parris, in 1551. But their restoration early in 1555 was a sign that the Catholic Government intended to take action to enforce orthodoxy: and early in the same year came the first burning, that of John Rogers, a former priest.

The question of who initiated the policy of formal religious persecution under the Lollardy code- which contrasts with the pseudopolitical attack on Catholicism in subsequent reigns under a completely new code of legislation—is one which remains undecided. There is no reason to believe that it was the Queen’s idea- though she accepted the advice of the Council, in this, as in other questions. Her personal view is extant in a message written in her own hand:

“Touching punishment of heretics. me thinketh it ought to be done without rashness, not leaving in the meanwhile to do justice to such as by learning would seem to deceive the simple: and the rest so to be used, that the people might well perceive them not to be condemned without just occasion, whereby they shall both understand the truth, and beware to do the like: and especially within London, I would wish none to be burnt without some of the Council’s presence, and both here and there good sermons at the same.”

In his History of English Law, Reeves points out that the policy was adopted by the Crown with the authority of Parliament and the assent of the Council, composed chiefly of laymen. “It was the result,” he says, “not of the religious bigotry of ecclesiastics, but of the worst and vilest statecraft.” Far from being instigated by fanatical and bloody-minded Catholic clerics- as the legend has it- there is ample evidence that it was disliked and discouraged by the Bishops. Bonner- “Bloody Bonner, of London,” in the Protestant myth- was rebuked in a Royal letter for slackness: and both he and Chancellor Gardiner- the chief objects of Foxe’s vilification—made it clear that they had no responsibility for the legislation which their office obliged them to enforce.

“It was not my doing,” declares Gardiner (in answer to Bradford’s protest that “Christ used not this way to bring men to faith” ), “although some there be that think this to be the best way: for I, for my part have been challenged for being too gentle sometimes.” On another occasion, Bonner points out to Philpot, former Archdeacon of Winchester, that he was not the cause of his arrest. “I marvel that men should trouble me with these matters: but I must be obedient to my betters,” he went on “and I wish men speak otherwise of me than I deserve.” The attitude of both is somewhat like that of a modern judge who dislikes the death sentence, but who is obliged by the state of the law to pronounce it in certain cases. The men who slandered them, however, were no more interested in truth than the modern Communist propagandists who vilify Eisenhower or Adenauer. John Bale described Gardiner as the “common cut-throat of England” in 1553, when there was no sign of the repression of heretics. In the same writing he and Bonner are described as “merciless persecutors of Christ’s flock” and “pimps of Antichrist.”

This is simply the jargon of current “militant” propaganda- as “Fascist beasts,” “war-mongers,” etc., are that of the Red press today. A further indication of Gardiner’s attitude is that he furnished Peter Martyr with funds to leave England, and shielded Edward VI’s former secretary, one Thomas Smith from persecution and gave him a yearly pension of £100, while Roger Ascham, the tutor of Lady Jane Grey, pays an enthusiastic tribute to the Chancellor for his humanity and benevolence.

For the rest, the Cardinal Legate Pole was opposed to the policy, and the confessor of King Philip, Mary’s husband, Friar de Castro, actually denounced the persecution in a sermon before the Court. It was also opposed by the King’s father, the Emperor, and the Imperial envoy, Renard.

The fashion in which the machinery against heresy was worked provides further evidence that the force behind it was the will of the State, not that of the Church authorities. In earlier heresy proceedings, the State had come in only at the end, as “hangman to the Pope,” to use Tyndale’s pithy phrase. But in the cases described by Foxe in the years 1555–8, the rounding up of heretics is the task of the Justices of the Peace, who are spurred on by Royal proclamations like that of February, 1551, in which heresy is linked with false rumours and the dissemination of seditious literature.

It is these authorities, too, who inquire into such things as non-attendance at Mass and Communion, blasphemous acts and utterances, and so forth. This being the case, it is easy to see why wealthy heretical gentry and noblemen went unmolested through the Queen’s reign. Those brought before the Courts were largely simple souls of the poorer classes, with more fervour than knowledge—frequently odd and intolerant: and exasperating, no doubt, to the authorities by their disorderly conduct- but, of all the opponents of the Government, surely the last who could be truly described as “dangerous.”

THE INFAMY OF THE MARIAN PERSECUTION

Whether looked at from the point of view of policy or that of morals, the Marian persecutions stand utterly condemned. From the standpoint of expediency, they were simply inept, since they did nothing to weaken the powerful forces of opposition. They did not touch the rich men who had been the main stay of the earlier attack on the old Religion, and were to join the next ruler in overthrowing it once more. They could not deal with the organized Protestant communities in exile, who were out of the Government’s reach; or prevent them from continuing their hostile propaganda and laying their plans for a “come back.” They were, in fact, completely useless, as well as detestable on Christian principles.

If we look at the persecution from the legal and moral standpoint, it was simply monstrous. As we have seen, it was a generally accepted principle among Catholics of the time that “heretics” who had apostatized from the Faith were not merely morally guilty but socially dangerous, and as such to be proceeded against by law in properly-run Christian countries. But the England of Mary was not a normal Catholic country like the England of Henry IV, dealing with a small body of religious perverts with revolutionary tendencies. It was a country which had been en bloc outside the Catholic Communion for a good twenty years—its King and bishops, church and State authorities all excommunicate, and committed to heresy to a larger or less extent. The protests against this state of affairs had long died away into silence: it had been accepted by practically everyone of importance, as well as acquiesced in by the mass of the people.

A very large number of those who came before the Bishops’ Courts were men and women who could not seriously be regarded as having swerved obstinately away from the faith of the Catholic Church in which they had been reared. They were not, therefore “heretics” within the meaning of Canon Law. England had formally ceased to be Catholic in 1534–35: so that people of thirty or so had lived under an anti-Catholic regime since they were ten—far too early to be held responsible for their beliefs. In that time, they had been exposed to a constant barrage of propaganda against the Holy See and the idea of the Church as it had hitherto been held in England. The very Bishops who sat in judgment upon them had set the example of denying their Faith at the command of the Sovereign. In effect, they had been reared in heresy, if not in the Protestantism they had finally accepted—and it was absurd, as well as iniquitous, to treat them as bad Catholics who had left the Church.

This difficulty was got over by the legal falsification which treated England as having been a “Catholic” country until the Mass was officially overthrown and the traditional priesthood and way of worship abolished. For the purposes of the Marian courts of justice, in fact, Henry VIII had lived and died a Catholic! This minimized the apostasy of the Marian Bishops and clergy, to be sure, since they had refused to accept the “Sacramentarian” heresies of Edward VI’s time. But the decision to choose between the heresies and apostasies which “really counted” and those which could be ignored was one which itself smacked of heresy, however convenient it might be as a “race-saving” device.

Of the “martyrs” named by Foxe, he gives the age of 52 only, of his total of 278. Of these, only 14 were born before 1520, and therefore of mature age before the Henrician apostasy. Of the other 38, 27 attained their fourteenth birthday between 1534 and 1546, while nine others came to that age in Edward VI’s reign—so that even on the Bishops’ reckoning, they should not have been treated as “heretics” in the true sense. In fact, all were burnt, and the question—obviously a vital one—was never raised at all!

Yet another interesting point about these trials appears if their procedure is compared with that laid down in Papal legislation on heresy courts—for instance, that of the much abused Inquisition. This provides most carefully for honest and competent advocates to defend the accused—but, in Fox’s work, there is nowhere any mention of a defending advocate at all! To be sure, this is not conclusive, since Foxe is chiefly concerned to show his heroes grappling with their persecutors on questions of doctrine. But it seems very doubtful indeed whether the accused had legal advice; certainly, it was not usually permitted in the Courts of the High Commission in Queen Elizabeth I’s time, which judged ecclesiastical cases.

To sum up—it was infamous that peasants and workpeople of little education, brought up in an atmosphere of doctrinal confusion and official hostility towards the Catholic Church, should be dealt with as “formal heretics” on account of their new beliefs, by ecclesiastical judges whose weakness and apostasy had contributed to the downfall of the Church.

THE POSITION OF THE BISHOPS

The first of the Protestants burned, John Rogers, declared bluntly that “changing religion with the Government” was a vice characteristic of the conservatives who opposed the new German doctrines to which he adhered. “The papists at all times,” he said, “were most ready to apply themselves to the present world, and like men—pleasers, to follow the fantasies of those in authority, and turn with the State, which way soever it turned”; and he proceeded to describe the movement of these “weathercocks,” under Henry, Edward and Mary, in terms which must have made many faces red. When examined by a distinguished commission of lay lords and Bishops—including Tunstall, Heath, Thirlby and Gardiner- he declared that he had learned his “wicked doctrines” touching the Papacy from “ye yourselves, all the Bishops of the realm, when I was a young man twenty years past. Saunders was able to justify his belief about the Pope’s usurpation, in answer to Gardiner, by referring to the Bishop-Chancellor’s own book- which had lately been republished, in a Protestant edition, with a savage preface by Bale.

There was nothing that the Bishops could answer except “we have fallen in manner all: but now be risen again and returned to the Catholic Church. You must rise again with us, and come home unto it.” In answering William Tims, Bishop Bonner went on to confess that Gardiner had written his book, and he himself the preface, “because of the perilous world that then was”; they had simply not had the courage to face death for the Pope’s authority. The scandal of the past could not be exorcized—the ghost of Henry VIII hovered over the trials conducted by Bishops who had once been his obedient and submissive tools in his war against the Church.

FOXE AND THE MARTYRS

Practically all that we know of the details of the Marian persecution is derived from John Foxe, whose account was written simply as a mighty piece of anti-Catholic propaganda, with a view to serving the cause of Protestantism. The dreadful history of the Marian terror was to be burned into the minds of Englishmen, so that they might never again regard the Old Religion except with hate and fear. At the same time, the new religion was provided with a “Golden Legend” to take the place of the older traditional lives of the Saints—filled, like them, with fantastic wonders and horrors. It is written vividly and with fierce passion—the Catholics are all monsters, the Bishops’ names are all adorned with the navvy’s adjective, “Bloody”: their victims are “poor, meek, innocent lambs”- though their speech and conduct, for the most part, recall the zealots of primitive Islam rather than anything else.

They are filled with an old Testament fervour against Amalekites, idolators, and children of Belial, which contrasts strangely with the Christian precepts of love towards those who hate and persecute the people of God. These men and women met their death with a splendid courage, however, which compels admiration: and, with all their terrible violence, there is something uplifting about their simple sincerity in maintaining their convictions. They are largely of the working class, or that just above it; they have a burning zeal for the Scriptures, and a great familiarity with its English text and dexterity in assembling its passages for their own purposes: and they are firmly convinced that they are “taught of God,” and that it is their right and duty to denounce His enemies and uproot and destroy all that is not in conformity with their reading of the Holy Book.

To themselves, they were Scriptural figures, living out their lives as a continuation of the sacred story. No arguments can stir their iron certitude—the patient striving and reasoning of Bishops reluctant to condemn, earnest to convince, is of no avail. Clerics with their record of time-serving and cowardice were not heeded. There were 51 women-only one being a “gentlewoman”: these, though of the lower orders, yield to none in courage and argumentative zest- two had fathers and mothers who had perished in the flames, one was blind. The executions were usually carried out in the cathedral city of the Bishop who conducted the trial, or in the country town: but there were a number elsewhere, especially where the sheriffs wished to intimidate people in places which were strongholds of dissidence. Most of those burned in London came from outside the city. In the part of England north of Chester and Derby, there were no burnings at all.

THE EFFECT ON PUBLIC OPINION

It is frequently said that the persecution of Protestants contributed notably to the unpopularity of Mary’s Government, by the “memory and disgust” which it left behind. It would be pleasant to believe that the English reacted in this way to barbarities committed in the name of religion: but unfortunately there is too much reason to hold that this is simply “wishful thinking,” and there is nothing in the way of contemporary evidence. The popular idea which identifies Marian Catholicism with religious cruelty in a special manner, and regards her Government’s burning of heretics with peculiar horror, is of later date than Mary’s own reign: it arose from the popularizing of the acts of the martyrs in Foxe’s version.

The modern humanitarian spirit was almost non-existent at this time—it was certainly not present among the Protestant zealots who publicized the heroism and sufferings of their brethren: while, as for the general body of the English, it is not likely that they were especially upset about the infliction of capital punishment in this form upon a few hundred people spread over various parts of the country. All through the sixteenth and the two following centuries, the criminal law was exceedingly savage, and until 1826 death sentences were carried out publicly for “felonies” which might be quite trivial. As Philip Hughes points out in his History of the Reformation in England: “If we were habituated to the spectacle of something like 12,000 executions yearly- where now there are not a dozen—for offences which varied from stealing five shillings to murder and treason, we should hardly be as impressed as we assume our ancestors to have been, by the fact of an additional number- comparatively small- now executed annually, for the crime called heresy.”

It is worth remembering, too, that the population was inured to many other brutalities—not only to “blood-sports” like bear baiting and bull baiting, but to the sight of men and women flogged through the streets, sometimes for nothing more than begging. Nor was death at the stake a penalty confined to heretics- it was inflicted in the case of women guilty of husband-murder or that of a master or mistress, or of coining, being regarded as more “decent” than that of being hanged and publicly disembowelled, which was inflicted upon the male sex for certain felonies. The last case of a woman convict being burnt in England was as late as 1789—within thirty years of the birth of Queen Victoria—though by that time it was usual to strangle the victim before burning.

No sooner had the Catholic Government ceased to put Protestants to death for heresy, than the Reformed Christians who succeeded it in power gave themselves to the horrid business of hunting down witches. The legal establishment of this superstition went hand in hand with the 1559 settlement, and Protestant Marian exiles took a principal part in it. The martyrologist, Foxe, was largely responsible for spreading the horrid notions from which sprang frightful cruelties through the rest of this and the next centuries- barbarities especially associated with the more extreme forms of Protestantism.

In Scotland, where Calvinism was dominant, some eight thousand “witches” were burnt between 1560 and 1600, in a country with a total population of a million at most; the number hanged in England is unknown: but it is declared by those who have studied the subject to be certainly “enormous.” In comparison with these forgotten innocent victims, the number of heretics killed under Mary is a mere handful. And to all this, we must add that the killing of people for religion, under a new penal code which made Catholic priesthood and the saying of Mass “treason,” went on until the time of Charles II, though it was sometimes covered by “political” accusations of a type resembling those brought against Christian victims “behind the Iron Curtain.”

It is shocking to think that long centuries of Catholic Christianity had had so little effect in diminishing “man’s inhumanity to man,” and the fact that the Reformed religion proved no more successful is not a matter for satisfaction—but merely for sad admission. To the shame of both, it must be said that the extension of the spirit of judicial mercy and humanity which ought to have been a mark of the ages of Faith, has in fact taken place in a time of growing unbelief, even though it can be traced clearly enough to the humanizing influence of Christian teachings concerning man’s value and dignity and love of neighbour.

WHY THE CATHOLIC RESTORATION FAILED

It is necessary to repeat, however, that in trying to set the Marian persecutions in their proper historical setting, I have no notion of excusing or justifying them. The estimation of public feeling about them, is a question of fact which must be considered objectively-and, when it is so considered, it seems clear that this factor had no perceptible part in the failure of the Catholic restoration. The principal causes of that failure are clear enough. England had ceased to be a “Catholic country” at the time of the Queen’s accession, if we mean by this term a country in which the average man takes the truth of the Faith for granted, as well as the Church’s right to obedience The great majority, no doubt, were “Catholic at heart” in the sense of being attached to their ancestral traditions and glad to see them restored: but the mass of the people was certainly not pro-Papal any more than it was pro-Protestant: and its “Catholic” feeling was not sufficient to inspire militant resistance, or even strong protest, at the first moves towards the restoration of the Edwardine religious regime.

In these circumstances, the task of a true Catholic restoration needed, above all, time and positive evangelical action on the part of the Church, supported by intelligent Government policy in the handling of the religious problem. The policy of the State was one of the stupidest reaction—including the revival of a repressive legislation which had been designed for an altogether different situation, and which did not touch the source of the anti-Catholic menace. The Church, while still suffering from the dead hand of State domination, and over-burdened with the episcopal and clerical “collaborators” of yesterday, did make plans for a solid work of re-instruction and re-evangelization: but they were plans which, even with far greater apostolic zeal, would have taken time to ripen.

In ten to twenty years, the official Catholic restoration would probably have become fully effective among the masses, so as to stand firm against the threat of a new religious revolution: but Queen Mary died only four years after the formal reconciliation of England with the ancient Faith: and the Queen who followed her was thoroughly committed to the anti-Catholic cause by her birth, character and upbringing. In such circumstances, nothing but a miracle could have saved the passive, semi-Catholic mass from slipping, by way of acquiescence, into ultimate acceptance of the new religious order.

But if the issue was not affected by the policy of Mary’s Government towards heretics, that policy, which was scandalously unjust as well as inept, gave plenty of material which could be, and was, exploited in order to build up a “black legend” of anti-Catholicism whose huge remains are still an obstacle to the return of the English-speaking people to the Faith of their ancestors. The burnings, indeed, are unforgettable—and should not be forgotten: but the chief guilt of them should not be ascribed to a Catholic Queen, who was herself the most merciful as well as the most brave and unhappy of women: and, if we are to be just, we must attribute the wretched business far more to sheer bureaucratic stupidity than to fanaticism or bloodthirstiness on the part of those concerned.

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Mary, Motherhood, And The Home

BY FULTON J. SHEEN

INDEX

THE PERFECTION of all motherhood is Mary, the Mother of Jesus, because she is the only mother in all the world who was “made to order” by her Divine Son. No creature can create his own mother. He can paint a picture of his own mother, for, in the field of art, the artist pre-exists his product; he is a symbol of God the Creator pre-existing His creatures. All art is an imitation of the Divine Artist Who, from all eternity, possessed in His Divine mind the archetypal ideas according to which He made the world in time. The most famous painting of a mother is probably that by Whistler. Once, when complimented on its beauty, he answered: “You know how it is; one tries to make one’s mother as nice as possible.”

Our Divine Lord pre-existed His own Mother existentially, as Whistler pre-existed his mother artistically. Every bird, every flower, every tree has been made according to an idea existing in the mind of God from all eternity. When He came into the world at Bethlehem, He was unlike anyone ever born; creation was no stranger to Him. He was like a bird that might have made the nest in which he was hatched. He came into the universe as a master into His own house or as an artist into his own studio. The universe was His and the fullness thereof.

In a particular way He created His own Mother. He thought of her before she was born, as the poet thinks of his poem before it is written. He conceived her in His eternal mind before she was conceived in the womb of her mother, St. Ann. In an improper sense, when she was conceived eternally in the pure mind of God, that was her first “Immaculate Conception.” In the Mass of that feast, the Church puts into her mouth the words from the Book of Proverbs, saying that from all eternity God had thought of her, even before the mountains were raised and the valleys were leveled.

The Lord made me his when first he went about his work, at the birth of time, before his creation began. Long, long ago, before earth was fashioned, I held my course. Already I lay in the womb, when the depths were not yet in being, when no springs of water had yet broken; when I was born, the mountains had not yet sunk on their firm foundations, and there were no hills; not yet had he made the earth, or the rivers, or the solid framework of the world. I was there when he built the heavens, when he fenced in the waters with a vault inviolable, when he fixed the sky overhead, and leveled the fountain-springs of the deep. I was there when he enclosed the sea within its confines, forbidding the waters to transgress their assigned limits, when he poised the foundations of the world. I was at his side, a master workman, my delight increasing with each day, as I made play before him all the while; made play in this world of dust, with the sons of Adam for my play-fellows. Listen to me, then, you that are my sons, that follow, to your happiness, in the paths I shew you; listen to the teaching that will make you wise, instead of turning away from it. Blessed are they who listen to me, keep vigil, day by day, at my threshold, watching till I open my doors. The man who wins me, wins life, drinks deep of the Lord’s favor; who fails, fails at his own bitter cost; to be my enemy is to be in love with death [Prov. 8: 22–36].

But God not only “thought” about Mary. He actu ally created her soul and infused it into a body, co-created by her parents. It was through her portals as the Gate of Heaven that He would come into the world. If God labored six days in preparing a paradise for man, He would spend a longer time preparing a paradise for His Divine Son. As no weeds grew in Eden, so no sin would arise in Mary, the paradise of the Incarnation. Most unbecoming it would be for the sinless Lord to come into the world through a woman afflicted with sin. A barn door cannot fittingly serve as an entrance to a castle.

God in His mercy remits original sin after our birth in the Sacrament of Baptism; it is only natural that He should grant a special privilege to His Mother and remit her original sin before she was born. This is what is meant by the Immaculate Conception: namely that, by the special grace and privilege of Almighty God, and in virtue of the merits of Jesus Christ, Savior of the human race, the Blessed Virgin Mary was preserved from every stain of original sin at the first moment of her conception. She was, in the improper sense, “immaculately conceived” in the mind of God from all eternity. But in the proper sense of the word, she was immaculately conceived in the womb of her mother in time. Mary, therefore, is no afterthought in the mind of God. As Eden was the paradise of perfect delight for man, so Mary became the Eden of innocence for the Son of Man. For the simple reason that the Son of God chose her from among all women to be His Mother, it follows that she above all women is the model Mother of the world.

No mother was ever favorably known to the world except through her children. No one ever heard of the mother of Judas, but all know Mary through Jesus. The painting of Whistler’s mother bears on the back of its canvas the portrait of Whistler himself as a boy. Even in art, the child and mother are inseparable. As one cannot go to a statue of a mother holding a child and cut away the mother without destroying the child, so neither can one have Jesus without His Mother. Could you claim as a friend one who, every time he came into your home, refused to speak to your mother or treated her with cold indifference? Jesus cannot feel pleased with those who never give recognition to or show respect for His Mother. Coldness to His Mother is certainly not the best way to keep warm a friendship with Him. The unkindest cut of all would be to say that she who is the Mother of our Lord is unworthy of being our Mother.

To show her veneration is not to adore her. Only God may be adored. Mary is an abstraction of love from Love. All the myth-creations of the upward struggling of men and far-off yearnings for a mother of mothers in such crudities as Penelope, Isis, Astarte, and Diana were unconscious, prophetic witnesses to a fulfillment in Mary, whom Francis Thompson has called:

Sweet stem of that Rose,

Christ, which from the earth

Sucks our poor prayers, conveying them to Him.

Love for Mary no more derogates from Christ’s Divinity than the setting robs the jewel, or the hearth t he flame, or the horizon the sun. She exists but to magnify the Lord, and that was the song of her life. Knowing her as the Tower of Ivory, He climbs up the stairs of her encircling virtues, to “kiss upon her lips a mystic rose.” Acknowledging her as the Gate of Heaven, through her portals He comes to us. He who slams the gate in the face of the Queen bars the entrance of Heaven. If the world lost the Mother, it also lost the Son. It may well be that, as the world returns to love of Mary, it will also return to a belief in the Divinity of Christ. The reason that Mary should be honored above all mothers was given by her cousin: “How have I deserved to be thus visited by the mother of my Lord” [Luke 1: 43]? The Angel Gabriel also gave the answer when he saluted her as “full of grace.” But her Son gave the best and perfect answer when He willed her to us from the Cross.

Mary is, first of all, the model of the family. In the Annunciation story, there appears the action of the Three Persons of the Blessed Trinity: Father, Son, and the Holy Spirit. God the Father sends the Angel to announce that He will send His Son to be conceived in her and that this will take place through the Holy Spirit. When Mary accepts, a new society begins; a human family among human families, which is at one and the same time an ideal and an earthly trinity. In all other families there is father, mother, and child. In this family there is Child, Mother, and Father. It is the Child Who makes the family; it is the Child Who created the parents. Next to Him comes the Mother, for she alone, through the Holy Spirit, conceived the Son in her virgin womb. Finally comes Joseph, the foster father chosen by God to be protector of the group and, for that reason, protector of the Church, which is the expansion of that original family. All through the preceding ages, from the crudest wigwam where spouse lighted fire for spouse to the castle of the prince and princess, wherein the two looked down on heirs of earthly kingdoms, mankind has been looking either forward or backward to that Divine Family, in which God veiled the glory of His Divinity and became flesh through the selfless love of Mary under the strong and reverent wardship of Joseph.

That home of Nazareth, wherein the earthly trinity lived its round of mutual love and obedience, was indeed different from any other home. It had to be; otherwise it could not have been the prototype. The pattern cannot be the cloth, nor the original the copy, nor the example the thing exemplified. The Child was God’s Son. Eternally generated in the bosom of the heavenly Father, He had no earthly father, only a kindly carpenter who acted as a foster sire. Mary, the Mother, was different from all mothers, for she conceived that Son with a passionless passion of a soul, as the love of her Creator supplied the passion of a soul in the place of the passion of a creature. Passion is love in bondage; it is the spirit in us straining at the leash of the flesh; it is like an eagle made for the flights over mountain tops, yet caged within a canary’s range. For this one time in history, love, by being emptied of passion, is permitted to spread its wings and fall in love with Love. “For it is by the power of the Holy Spirit that she has conceived this child.” [Matt. 1: 20]

Because Nazareth was so different, it is since then so imitable. Because it is the light, we can see our way. Once that earthly trinity stood revealed, the family could never again be the result of a lease or a contract alone; it would be a union, a fellowship, as indissoluble as the Trinity of which it was the reflection. Nazareth tells us the kind of love that makes a home, namely, Divine Love on a pilgrimage into time from eternity.

There is but one life, because there is but one Source of life. The life in flower and plant and the life in man and woman is but the slowly smoldering spark caught up in a clay-kindled flame from the eternal fires of God. Man could not call God “Father” unless He had a Son; and we could not be sons of the Father unless from all eternity the Heavenly Father had made us “to be molded into the image of His Son” [Rom. 8: 29]. Because images become blurred, the Father sent His Son to this earth to teach us the manner of beings He had eternally meant us to be. Human generation had thus become ennobled, because it is the reflection of that eternal generation in which life flows from Life and then goes marching, in created forms, through all the kingdoms of earth, with such force and vitality that death alone can conquer it. Here is the pattern of all fatherhood, all generations, and all life-giving processes, for in it love overflows into Love! This is the beginning of the earthly family: the original of Nazareth.

Because Divine Love as a Messiah came to earth, it became natural that husband and wife should not only give themselves to one another in mutual sacrifice but also should recover themselves in the love of their children, who tie them together as father and mother as the Holy Spirit is the bond of unity between Father and Son. If human love fails, it is because it is short-circuited, not directed to a mutual incarnation of love but rather turned back upon itself, where it dies of its own too-much. Without the child as the bond of mutuality, or at least the desire for the child, passion can end in mutual slaughter. But with the child, love discovers itself to be immortal. By giving its flesh and blood as a kind of earthly eucharist, it lives on what it feeds.

Marriage must end in the family, at least in intention if not in act; for only through the family does life escape exhaustion and weariness by discovering its duality to be trinity, by seeing its love continually reborn and renown, by having its mutual self-giving transformed into receiving. Love thus defeats death, as it defeats exhaustion. It achieves a kind of immortality as self-renewal becomes self-preservation. God is eternal society; Three Persons in one Divine Nature. The family is human society; mutual self-giving, which ends in self-perfection.

Deep mystery is hidden i n the fact that Mary “conceived by the Holy Spirit.” It meant that the love that begot her child was not human love. A child is the fruit of love. But, in this one instance, the love that begot was the love of God, which is the Third Person of the Trinity. Under the sun one needs no candle. When conception takes place through Spirit love, there is no need of human love. The virgin birth did not imply that Mary conceived without love; it only meant that she conceived without passion. Birth is impossible without love. Human husband love is unnecessary if God sends His Spirit of Love. Where there is no love, there is no family.

To Mary alone was given the gift of bearing a child directly through God. But, in a lesser way, every child is born of God. The parents cannot create the soul of the child; that must come from God. Flesh cannot beget spirit. At the very beginning of the human race, Eve, in the ecstasy of the firstborn in the world, cried out: “I have been enriched by the Lord with a manchild” [Gen. 4: 1]. “By the Lord,” but using the intermediary of man, Mary, the new Eve, in the ecstasy of her firstborn could cry: “I have been enriched by the Lord with a man-child,” without the intermediary of man; because she was begetting the new Adam, the new head of the human race. As in the Trinity there are Three Persons in one Divine Nature, as in Adam there are millions of human persons in one fallen human nature, so in Christ there are millions of human persons in one regenerated human nature. “In Adam,” man with his heritage of sin can become “in Christ,” with a heritage of grace.

The Trinity as the ideal family is the model not only for the human family, but also the model for the family of nations and the human race. The Giver, the Receiver, the Gift were first reflected in Adam, Eve, and their offspring, and later at Bethlehem in Child, Mother, and Father. “Beloved, let us love one another; love springs from God; no one can love without being born of God, and knowing God” [1 John 4: 7]. Mary also reveals the beautiful relationship that ought to exist between mother and children.

There really is such a thing in the world as two hearts with but a single thought. Hearts are like vines; they intertwine and grow together. One can give his heart away, but since there is no life without a heart, one must receive another in return, or die. Deep love does not so much exist between two hearts as between one heart in two bodies. A community of interests, thoughts, desires develop as if from two mountain currents a single river flowed.

What makes parting and death so tragic to lovers is that it is not two hearts that are separating but one heart that is being broken in two. A broken heart is not the fracture of a single heart, but the rupture of two hearts once united in the rapture of a single love. In fear, one’s heart can be in one’s mouth; but in love, one’s heart is in the beloved. And since each of us has only one heart, it can be given away only once.

No two hearts in the world ever grew together like the hearts of a Mother and a Son: Jesus and Mary. “Where your treasure-house is, thereyour heart is, too” [Matt. 6: 21]. His treasure was His Mother, her Treasure was her Son. These two hearts, the Immaculate Heart of Mary and the Sacred Heart of Jesus, kept their treasures in one another and in the sovereign will of the Father. In a certain sense, there were not two hearts but one, so deep was the love for each, so at one were their wills, so united were their minds.

These two hearts, the Immaculate Heart of Mary and the Sacred Heart of Jesus, threw defiance to the world’s warning not towear your heart upon your sleeve, for they wooed the world openly. Shakespeare wrote: “I will not wear my heart upon my sleeve for daws to peck at.” But the Savior, wearing His heart upon His sleeve, said: “Come to me, all you that labor and are burdened;I will give you rest” [Matt. 11: 28]. The love of Jesus and Mary for mankind was so open, they left their hearts exposed to every errant dart from the bow of sinful man. Standing at the portals of every heart in the world, each could say: “Behold, I stand at the door and knock.” They would break down no doors; the latches are on the inside; only we can open them. Because they have wooed, they can be wounded.

The Sacred Heart gave an example to children by allowing His Incarnate Life to be formed by the Immaculate Heart of His Mother. No other human being in the world contributed to His Sacred Heart. She was the anvil on which the Holy Spirit, amidst the flames of love, hammered out the human nature with which the eternal Word of God was one. From her own body and blood, as a human eucharist, He was nourished for life in the world. As the vineyard of His wine, as the wheat field of His bread, she supplied the materials for that Divine Eucharist, which, if a man eat, he will live forever. As friends and relatives crowded about to seek resemblances, they found them double. He resembled His Heavenly Father, for He was indeed “the splendor of His glory; the image of His substance. “ But He resembled His Mother, too, for, reversing Eden, man now comes from a woman, and not woman from a man. “He was bone of her bone, flesh of her flesh.”

So submissive was He to her care that the door that slammed in her face in Bethlehem also slammed on Him. If there was no room for her in the inn, then there was no room for Him. As she was the ciborium before He was born, so she was His monstrance after Bethlehem. To her fell the happy lot of exposing, in the chapel of a stable, the “Blessed Sacrament,” the body, blood, soul, and divinity of Jesus Christ. She enthroned Him for adoration before Wise Men and shepherds, before the very simple and the very learned. Through her hands He received His first gifts, which as all mothers do, she would keep until He “grew up.” None of them were toys. One of these gifts was gold, because He was King; another was frankincense, because He was Teacher; but the third gift was bitter myrrh for His burial, because He was Priest and Redeemer. Myrrh, signifying death, was accepted by her as a sign that, even at the crib, she would help fashion Him for the Cross and the redemption, for that was why He came.

Through her arms He goes out into other arms. Men do not receive Jesus except through Mary. Simeon “also took Him in His arms.” But in no other arms is He really safe, not even in the arms of a saintly old man. For Simeon, too, brought myrrh, when he said to Mary: “Behold, this child is destined to bring about the fall of many and the rise of many in Israel; to be a sign which men will refuse to recognize; and so the thoughts of many hearts shall be made manifest; as for thy own soul, it shall have a sword to pierce it” [Luke 2: 34, 35].

“A sign which men will refuse to recognize,” means the cross: one bar in contradiction with another bar, man’s will in opposition to God’s will. Nowhere in all the world is He safe from contradiction except with His Mother; for, being conceived without sin, she was immune from the original contradiction of sin. But with others this was not true. When a wise man first saw Him, he gave myrrh for His death. When another old, wise man first touched Him, he spoke of a cross. “As for thy own soul, it shall have a sword to pierce it.” Her own Immaculate Heart and His Sacred Heart would be as one in love through life, that the spear to be driven through His Heart would also pierce her Heart. As the innkeeper’s words to Mary pierced His heart, too, so the sword of Calvary would also pierce her heart, as if the heart cord of Mother and Son had never been broken at birth. For nine months she bore Him in her womb, but for thirty-three years she bore Him in her heart. One stone sometimes can kill two birds, and one sword sometimes can pierce two hearts. As He received His human life from her, so He would not give it up without her. He does not wait until maturity before announcing that the reason for His coming is to take up the sign of contradiction. He makes the offering when He is only forty days old, but He does it through His Mother.

As He was formed by her body and given to mankind by her arms, so He was formed by her mind. The world received only three years of His life, but Mary had thirty years of His obedience. Down to Nazareth He went to be subject to her. He, the Divine Word, for three long decades responded to a human word. Nazareth was the first university in the history of Christianity, and in it all humanity, in the person of Christ, was trained in obedience under the tutelage of a woman. It was no wonder that, when He was graduated, men marveled at His learning: “No man ever spoke as this man.” Nazareth was the school for Golgotha.

Her Divine Son could not submit His Divine will to a human mortal, but He could submit His human will, which He received by becoming man. Just as in the unity of His Divine Person He is immortal in virtue of His Divine nature but mortal through His human nature, so He is beyond submission as God and yet freely within submission, except in those things that bear directly on the mission of His heavenly Father: “Know you not that I must be about My father’s business.” As He depended on her answer to the Angel, before turning back eternity and becoming flesh, as He depended on her for His birth, as He depended on her to present Him at the Temple for the prediction of the Cross, so He depended on her for the announcement of His public life at the marriage feast of Cana. “The Mother of Jesus was there. And Jesus also was invited.” She is mentioned before He is in the Gospel story of Cana. She enters; He follows. He is at a marriage feast because she is there. Because she asks for it, He works His first miracle. Perhaps it would be truer to say that she did not ask for it but insinuated it. Her words were merely the affirmation of fact: “They have no wine.” But though she expressed a wish to her Divine Son, she nevertheless uttered a command to men: “Do whatever He tells you.” Her Son fulfilled her wish; men obeyed her command. Mary was not a spectator at Cana’s miracle. She was His inspiration. The Mother is as conscious of her power over her Son as He is conscious of His power over creatures. She suggests; He grants.

All through His life, we find a loving dependence of the Sacred Heart on her Immaculate Heart. The blood that flowed in His veins, came from her; His Body that was later delivered for sin was first delivered by her. The Divine fires, which kindled the earth, were housed in her heart. The waters of everlasting life, which are dipped to those that thirst, came through her as a fountain.

This love that the Sacred Heart had for His Mother was reciprocated by the love of Mother for Son. The life of Jesus speaks to us and says: “I gave Myself to My Mother. My body was fashioned by her; My will was subject to her; My miracles were begun through her; My crucifixion was announced through her; My redemption was perfected with her at the foot of the Cross. Unlike other men, I did not leave her to start a family, for as I told My Mother, there are other bonds than those of the flesh. “If anyone does the will of my Father Who is in Heaven, he is my brother, and sister, and mother” [Matt. 12: 50]. My family, the family of all who live by My Spirit, started with her. I was the first-born of the flesh; John was the second-born of the spirit at the foot of the Cross. No one, therefore, can be an adopted son of My Heavenly Father without being, at the same time, My brother; but no one can be My brother who does not depend on our Mother. To each of you on the Cross I said: “This is thy mother.” A Christian means another Christ. You must therefore be formed as I was. I ask that she be your mother, not that you rest in her, for a creature can never be the end of a creature. Her mission is to transform you into Me, so that you put on My mind, think My thoughts, desire My will, and live by My life. But how shall you put on Me except through her who is clothed with Me as the sun? Easier it would be to separate light from the sun and heat from the fire, than to separate growth in Me from devotion to her. I came to you through her; through her, you come to Me. “What God, then, has joined, let not man put asunder.””

When any other mother loves her child, she loves a creature. In the case of Mary, she loved her Creator, too, for it was not a nature she loved but a Person, and the Person is the Son of God. In the Transfiguration, the heavenly Father said: “This my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased” [Matt. 3: 17]. The Father here spoke of Jesus Christ, true God, true man, appearing in glory before His Apostles, with His face shining as the sun and His garments white as snow. When the eternal Father willed to associate the Virgin Mary in some way to His eternal generation of the Son by sending Him into her body as a temple, there must have arisen in Mary’s heart some spark of that infinite love that the Father has for His Son. Thus, the love of Mary for Jesus comes from the same Source as Her Son in God, the prototype of the love of a mother for children as gifts of God and of children for mothers as prolongers of the Incarnation. Some idea of this love is suggested in the simple lines of the Gospel, when her Son went down to Nazareth: “While his mother kept in her heart the memory of all this” [Luke 2: 51]. And the words were the words of the Word. In this reciprocal love of the Sacred Heart and the Immaculate Heart, there is suggested the conclusion that if the Sacred Heart willed to have His body, His mind, His will, and His mission formed by the Immaculate Heart of His Mother, then shall not earthly mothers form Christ-life in their children through the inspiration of that same Immaculate Mother? In a broader way, all grown children, adults in the Mystical Body, have their love for Christ formed by His Mother.

As Mary and Jesus are the model-love of mother and children and of Christians and Christ, so she is the inspiration of a home. The principal difference between a house and a home is a child. In a house individuals dwell; in a home the family lives. There are more persons in a boardinghouse or hotel than in a home, but since there is no deep unifying bond of love, the group never makes the family. The two principal virtues of a home are consecration on the part of parents and obedience on the part of the children. The first of these lessons is revealed in the Presentation; the second in the life at Nazareth.

St. Luke begins the story of the Presentation in these words: “And when the time had come for purification according to the law of Moses, they brought him up to Jerusalem, to present him before the Lord there. It is written in God’s law, that whatever male offspring opens the womb is to be reckoned sacred to the Lord; and so they must offer in sacrifice for him, as God’s law commanded, a pair of turtledoves, or two young pigeons” [Luke 2: 22–24].

All the women of Israel who had brought forth a child were obliged, at the end of forty days, to present it to the Temple, and, if it were a firstborn, to ransom it. The ransom imposed was in memory of God’s ransoming the first-born of the Jews while they were in captivity in Egypt. Jesus was the first-born, not only of Mary [and the only born] but was also the first-born of creatures: “His is that first birth which precedes every act of creation” [Col. 1: 15]. In the name of all humanity, Mary offers her Son as a ransom for the world’s redemption. Her act of dedicating her Son was a continuation of the Fiat she pronounced at the Annunciation. Mary was not a priest, but she was the Mother of the High Priest and as such offered in her heart her Child for the salvation of the world. She was not an altar, but the Mother of the Living Temple of God, which, if men destroyed, He would rebuild in three days. As a kind of paten, she holds in her hands Him Who is “the Lamb slain from the beginning of the world.”

When Mary Magdalen poured out the precious perfume on the feet of her Savior, the Lord said she was doing it in preparation for the day of His burial. When our Lady presented her Child in the Temple, she was offering Him, too, for the day of His burial for the redemption of the world. Not to other mothers comes the high summons to offer their sons in reparation for the world; but to every mother does come the summons to consecrate her child to the service of God. I know a mother who, when her first-born was Baptized, immediately placed him on the altar of the Blessed Mother and there consecrated him to God. He is now in the service of God.

The right to educate the children does not belong primarily to the State but to the parents. The State may instruct, but only the parents can consecrate. Since they hold the right from God, they will be held responsible for the proper exercise of the right. Like Mary, they must consecrate their children to the love and service of God. Unlike Mary, they are not called to consecrate unto a crucifixion, for there will never be another Redeemer. Mary here is imitable in the consecration, not in theone who is offered. The consecration of Mary’s Child was in a temple; the consecration of every mother’s child must also be in the house of God. Without religious education, there is no consecration, and without consecration a child is like an errant arrow, knowing neither the power that gave him motion nor the goal toward which he tends. But the child trained in sacrifice because Jesus Christ died for his sins, trained in truth because of a belief in Him Who is Truth, trained in purity because his body is the temple of God, becomes the redeemer of the parents, as their love pays back the spark of heaven with the flames of faith.

As parents would not think of stealing a neighbor’s child, so neither would they ever dream of cheating God of His heritage. They are the trustees of that carnal wealth, not its creator. They have been sent out “two by two” not to picnic on the way but to reinforce the ranks of earth. Mary has taught the mother the first step in the founding of a home by offering it to God, then taking the child back in her arms full of God’s purpose.

Correlative to consecration of the part of the parents is obedience on the part of the children. After finding the Divine Child in the Temple, St. Luke tells us: “But he went down with them on their journey to Nazareth, and lived there in subjection to them, while his mother kept in her heart the memory of all this. And so Jesus advanced in wisdom with the years, and in favor both with God and with men” [Luke 2: 51, 52]. A triple humiliation is here revealed. “He went down” was a miniature of the Incarnation, when God came down from Heaven and became man. Physically, Nazareth was below Jerusalem in the topography of the country. Spiritually it was lower too, for the Creator now goes down to His creatures. “To Nazareth.” “Can anything that is good come from Nazareth” [John 1: 46]? was asked by one of the Apostles on hearing that the Messiah came from that tiny little village. He was born in “the least of the cities of Israel;” now he would live in a scorned town, but the ignominy of His death and His apparent defeat He would proclaim in the great city of Jerusalem. “And He was subject to them.” Here the sculptor obeys his chisel, the painter is subject to his brush, the winds obey the dictates of the leaves. Two decades later men will see Him washing the feet of His disciples. “So it is that the Son of Man did not come to have service done him; he came to serve others, and to give his life as a ransom for the lives of many” [Mark 10: 45].

What makes the obedience of this Child all the more impressive is that He is the Son of God. He Who is the General of humanity becomes a soldier in the ranks; the King steps from His throne and plays the role of peasant. If He Who is the Son of God makes Himself subject to His Mother and foster father in reparation for the sins of pride, then how shall children escape the sweet necessity of obedience to those who are their lawfully constituted superiors? The Fourth Commandment, “Thou shalt honor thy father and thy mother,” has been broken by every generation since the dawn of man. At Nazareth children would be taught obedience by Him who really is the Commandment. In this particular instance, where the Child is Divine, one might think that at least He would have reserved forHimself the right of “self-expression.” Mary and Joseph, it seems, could have with great propriety opened the first “progressive school” in the history of Christianity, in which the child could do whatever he pleased; for here the Child could never have displeased. “And he who sent me is with me; he has not left me all alone, since what I do is always what pleases him” [John 8: 29].

But there is no evidence that He gave to Mary and Joseph just the nominal right to command. “And lived there in subjection to them.” God subject to man! God, before Whom the Angels, principalities, and powers tremble, is subject to Mary and to Joseph for Mary’s sake. Two great miracles of humility and exaltation: God obeying a woman; and a woman commanding God. The very fact that He makes Himself subject endows her with power. And this obedience lasted for thirty years. Three hours He spent in redemption; three years in teaching; thirty years in obedience. By this long span of voluntary obedience, He revealed that the Fourth Commandment is the bedrock of family life. In a larger way, how else could the primal sin of disobedience against God be undone except by the obedience in the flesh of the very God Who was defied? The first revolt in God’s universe of peace was the thunderbolt of Lucifer: “I will not obey!”

Eden caught up the echo, and down the ages its inflection traveled, worming its way into the nook and crevices of every family where there gathered a father, mother, and child.

By making Himself subject to Mary and Joseph, the Divine Child proclaims authority in home and in public life to be a power granted by God Himself. From this disclosure follows the duty of obedience for the sake of God and one’s conscience. As, later on, He would tell Pilate that the civil authorities exercise no power except that given them from above, so now by His obedience He bears witness to the solemn truth that parents exercise their authority in the name of God. The parents have the most sacred claim on their children, because their first responsibility is toward God.”Every soul must be submissive to its lawful superiors; authority comes from God only, and all authorities that hold sway are of his ordinance.” [Rom. 13: 1]

If the parents surrender their legitimate authority and primary responsibility to the children, the State takes up the slack. When obedience in conscience in the home vanishes, it will be supplanted by obedience by the force of the State. The divine glory of the ego, which characterized the nineteenth and twentieth centuries, is so much social nonsense. The Divine glory of the State, which is now taking the ego’s place, is a social nuisance. Believers in ego-consciousness and collective-consciousness may regard humility and obedience as a vice, but it is the stuff of which homes are made. When, in the one family of the world where one might legitimately excuse “child-worship,” for here the child is God, one finds on the contrary child-obedience, then let no one deny that obedience is the cornerstone of the home. Obedience in the home is the foundation of obedience in the commonwealth, for in each instance, conscience submits to a trustee of God’s authority. If it be true that the world has lost its respect for authority, it is only because it lost it first in the home. It is a peculiar paradox that as the home loses its authority, the authority of the State becomes tyrannical. Some moderns would swell their egos to infinity, but at Nazareth infinity stoops down to earth to shrink into the obedience of a child. There is a bond established. Democracy put “man” on a pedestal; feminism put “woman” on a pedestal; but neither democracy nor feminism could live a generation unless a “Child” was first put on a pedestal, and such is the significance of Nazareth!

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Mary, The Mother of Christ

BY FATHER CLEMENT BECK, S. V. D

INDEX

Mary! My Mother told me the sweet name of Mary together with the name of Jesus, when I was a child. When grown a youth, Mary was to me the ideal of how to love Jesus and to keep away from sin in the temptations of life; grown into manhood, I felt I could not live without her help. Mary I hope to love till I die and after death forever in heaven. This little book is written in her honour, the Mother of Christ and our own God-given Mother. It deals with her holy life, our devotion to her and our love for her.

THE LIFE OF MARY

I. BEFORE ALL TIME

The beginning of the life of Mary leads us back to eternity. When God in His infinite mercy decreed that His only begotten Son should become man in order to redeem mankind from sin, He also decreed that Mary should be the mother from whom the Son of God should take His human nature. Mary is thus the eternally chosen one. The Church applies to her the words of Holy Scripture:”From the beginning and before the world was I created and to the world to come I shall not cease to be” (Eccl. xxiv, 16). St. Bernard called Mary the divine concern of the ages, which means that God planned her life, when He prepared the way for the Incarnation of His Son.

Let us see how God prepared the way for her, who was to become the mother of Jesus.

PROPHECIES

In the very first book of the Holy Scriptures we read that Mary was promised by God to mankind. God inflicting punishment on the tempter of our first parents said:”I will put enmity between thee and the woman, and the seed and her seed; she shall crush thy head’ (Gen. iii, 1). Here we have a first prophecy referring to Mary; a woman is promised by God, who shall be the deadly enemy of the tempter, the serpent. This woman is Mary, who through her divine Son shall be so completely victorious over the devil, that she shall crush his head. The crushing of the head is fatal to a serpent. So is Mary’s victory over the tempter to sin.

A second prophecy referring to Mary we find in the book of Isaias, who said: “The Lord Himself shall give you a sign. Behold a virgin shall conceive and bear a son and his name shall be called Emmanuel (God with us)” (Is. vii, 14). The virgin mentioned here by the prophet more than 700 years in advance is Mary, who was to conceive Christ, the Emmanuel in a miraculous way. Such is the authentic explanation of this prophecy by St. Matthew (Matt. i, 18).

A third prophecy with regard to Mary and her Divine Child is made by the prophet Michaeas (v, 2), who declares Mary as the mother of the Eternal King to be born at Bethlehem.

TYPES AND FIGURES

But Mary is not only promised by God and foretold by the prophets; she is also foreshadowed in types and figures throughout the holy books-the Ark of Covenant was the sacred place where God’s presence manifested itself in a special way among His people. Mary is the true Ark of the Covenant, because in her womb God Incarnate was really present. Furthermore, in the Ark of the Covenant was the Manna, the bread that was rained from heaven to nourish the Chosen People of God. Mary carried in her womb Him Who is the true Manna of His people in the Blessed Sacrament.

It is written about the Ark of Noah, that it alone was saved in the deluge, which destroyed everything else. Thus Mary alone escaped the deluge of sin, which swamped all men.

There is given in Holy Writ an account of a bush that was afire and yet not consumed. In like manner Mary was a mother without losing her virginity. Referring to this the Church exclaims:”In the burning bush, which Moses saw, we recognise, O Mother of God, thy stainless virginity.”

There is mention in the Song of Songs of an enclosed garden and a sealed up fountain. Mary’s soul is this enclosed garden; for the enemy never gained entrance into it, not even in original sin. Mary’s soul is the sealed up fountain; for the purity of her soul was never touched by any sin.

As Mary was foreshadowed in types, so also is she in figures. There is Eve, the mother of all the living in the order of nature; Mary is the new Eve, as she is the mother of all the living in the order of grace. There is the sister of Moses who saved her brother and through him made free the Israelites; in like manner Mary saved mankind through her divine Son. Furthermore, as the sister of Moses led her people from exile to the Promised Land and sang a hymn of praise to God, so Mary leads us from the servitude of sin to our heavenly home and sings her hymn of praise to God in the”Magnificat.”

There is Esther, the queen, interceding for her people and by her intercession saving them from ruin; Mary intercedes for us and her intercession is called”Intercessory omnipotence.”

There is Judith destroying the enemies of her people; so does Mary help us to victory over the enemies of our souls.

There is the mother of the Machabees, whose sons were martyred in her presence; like another Machabean mother, Mary stands sorrow-laden beneath the cross of her divine Son.

St. Bernard meditating on Mary exclaims: “O Mary, mother of God, from all eternity thou wert chosen by the Most High, prepared for Him, protected by the angels, foreshadowed by the patriarchs and foretold by the prophets.”

Thus God had prepared the way for Mary to enter this world.

II MARY ‘S LIFE ON EARTH

At the appointed time in history a fact took place known to us by divine revelation: Mary was conceived immaculate; from the very first moment of her existence, by a singular grace of Christ the Redeemer, Mary was preserved from all stain of original sin. Not only was there no vestige of sin, but she was filled with divine grace. Her entire life was to be lived without an actual sin or imperfection. Her life is grouped around the life of Jesus. He is the sun and Mary the sunflower bending towards Him. Therefore the best description of Mary’s life is in relation to the life of Jesus, her divine Son.

CHILDHOOD

The first phase in her life is that before the Incarnation of Jesus. Here we follow mainly tradition, according to which the holy parents of Mary, Joachim and Anne, possessed two houses, one in Jerusalem and another in Nazareth. Mary was born in their house in Jerusalem, as St. John Damascene tells us. Mary is therefore really”the glory of Jerusalem and the daughter of Sion.” Mary was of kingly descent, being descended from David. The prophet Isaias had foretold her as the flowering plant, springing forth from the root, which was Jesse (Is. ii, 1). St. Augustine, commenting on these words, says: “Jesse is the father of David, the root from which there came Mary the plant and Jesus the flower.” The angel Gabriel points out that the Son miraculously born of Mary without the agency of man shall be given the throne of David, his father (Luke i, 32). If Mary were not of Davidic descent, then St. Paul could not have called her Son Jesus, the seed of David (Rom. i, 3).

Tradition again tells us that Mary was a child received by her holy parents after many prayers. But their child Mary was predestined and privileged as no other child, entering this world. From the very outset her soul was filled with grace and untouched by original sin. Her birthday was an occasion for rejoicing the world over. Holy Mother Church recording this auspicious occasion exclaims:”Thy nativity, O Virgin, Mother of God, heralded joy to the whole world; for from Thee arose the Sun of Justice, Christ Our Lord who, destroying the curse, bestowed on us His blessing, and confounding death has blessed us with life everlasting.” Truly we must rejoice and thank God on the birthday of the child Mary; for her coming announced the coming of Christ as the dawn announces the rising of the sun.

Mary was a beautiful child, it being fitting for her to be so, having been chosen by God to bear His Son. As she grew in age, so did she in wisdom and grace before God and men. These words, which describe the childhood of Jesus, can certainly be applied to Mary as well; for her life was in every respect like that of her divine Son.

Of the early childhood of Mary the Church in her feasts commemorates the occasion when her holy parents took her to the Temple in Jerusalem, to dedicate her life to God. Mary about this time began her schooling also. St. Ambrose is of the opinion that her parents were now living again in their house in Jerusalem, which was not far from the Temple and the school. Mary could thus easily attend her school and visit the Temple, where she often prayed. Both at home and at school Mary was the perfect child, loving God and her parents, being kind to others, obedient, pious and intelligent. How much she advanced in learning and piety we can see from the”Magnificat,” the canticle she composed, when she was only about fourteen years of age.

When Mary ‘s school years were completed, she moved with her parents to Nazareth. Now a grown-up girl, perfect in body and soul-her body of great natural beauty, untouched by any sin, her soul pure and endowed with all that was good, beautiful, noble and heavenly-her parents were anxious to see their daughter engaged and married, because of the hope of the Saviour Who, according to the prophets, was to come from the descendants of David. Mary being obedient agreed, although she had already, under divine inspiration, made the vow to remain a virgin. She trusted that God, under Whose inspiration she had made her vow, would enable her to keep it also in marriage. The bridegroom predestined for Mary was St. Joseph, like her of Davidic descent and after her the greatest Saint. He would certainly consent to and protect the vow of his holy spouse. By this time the plant, Mary, spring from the root of Jesse, had grown and was ready to bear the flower, Jesus.

ANNUNCIATION

What now happened in the life of Mary we learn from the Gospel itself: the virginal conception of Mary’s divine Son, the wonder announced by the angel, performed by the power of God, and so perfectly expressed in the classical words of St. John:”The Word was made flesh and dwelt amongst us.” This climax of Mary’s life is recorded by St. Luke in his simple but masterly words:”In the sixth month the angel Gabriel was sent from God into a city called Nazareth to a virgin espoused to a man whose name was Joseph of the house of David; and the name of the virgin was Mary; and the angel being come in said to her: Hail, full of grace, the Lord is with thee; blessed art thou among women. And when she had heard, she was troubled at his saying and thought within herself what manner of salutation this should be” (Luke 1, 26- 29). We can well understand that Mary the humble virgin was confused, when the angel with divine authority spoke to her about her fulness of grace and her future peerless dignity; true humility is always confused when praised. And the angel said to her: “Fear not, Mary; for thou hast found grace with God; behold thou shalt conceive in thy womb and thou shalt bring forth a Son and thou shalt call His name Jesus; He shall be great and shall be called the Son of the Most High; and the Lord God shall give unto Him the throne of David His father and He shall reign in the house of Jacob for ever. And of His kingdom there shall be no end” (Luke i, 30–33).

With these words the angel had conveyed the substance of his message, namely, that, the Son of God would become man in order to establish His kingdom on earth, and it was through Mary that He would enter the world. Mary believed and so she inquired how this should be done, since she had made a vow of virginity, and yet the angel’s words promised her the dignity of motherhood.”How shall this be done, because I know not man?” The angel thereupon explained to her that she would remain a virgin, as the Son of God would be her Son without having a human father.”The Holy Ghost shall come upon thee and the power of the Most High shall overshadow thee. And therefore also the Holy which shall be born of thee shall be called the Son of God. And behold thy cousin Elizabeth, she also hath conceived a son in her old age; and this is the sixth month with her that is called barren; because no word shall be impossible with God.” (Luke i, 35–87). Mary having fully understood the divine message said in adoration of God:”Behold the handmaid of the Lord; be it done to me according to Thy word” (Luke i, 38). We too believe with Mary in Jesus, Who for us men and for our salvation came down from heaven, was conceived by the Holy Ghost, born of the Virgin Mary, and was made man (Credo). And because of the exalted dignity which God has bestowed on Mary we shall never cease repeating the salutation of the angel,”Hail Mary.”

VISITATION

The angel in his message had mentioned Elizabeth, and so the Gospel says:”Mary rising up in those days went into the hillcountry with haste into a city of Juda” (Luke i, 39). It was a journey of about thirty hours, and it might well have taken Mary some four days to reach Elizabeth’s house. It is quite possible, according to the custom of the Jews, that St. Joseph accompanied his bride until she reached the house of her relative safely. Joseph might have been surprised at his bride’s profound recollection and quiet meditation, but neither did he ask her nor did she tell him the mystery of the coming Redeemer. Mary entering the house saluted Elizabeth.”And it came to pass that when Elizabeth heard the salutation of Mary, the infant leaped in her womb and Elizabeth was filled with the Holy Ghost and she cried out with a loud voce and said: Blessed art thou among women and blessed is the fruit of thy womb. And whence is this to me that the mother of my Lord should come to me? For behold as soon as the voice of thy salutation sounded in my ears the infant in my womb leaped for joy. And blessed art thou that hast believed, because those things shall be accomplished that were spoken to thee by the Lord” (Luke i, 41–45). St. Bernard, commenting on these happenings, said: “Wonder follows wonder.” The miracle of the Annunciation in Nazareth is followed by the miracle in the house of Elizabeth. Illumined by the Holy Ghost, she spoke as if she had witnessed the Annunciation. She was the first to call Mary by her most exalted title, “Mother of my Lord,” that is, Mother of God. Another wonder took place; the infant in her womb leaped for joy: this being the moment foretold by the angel about the child who was to be the forerunner of Jesus, that it should be filled with the Holy Ghost even from his mother’s womb (Luke i, 15). Thus mother and child were sanctified by the presence of Mary and the Word Incarnate in her. Already here Mary exercised her office of mediating graces through Jesus.

Mary ‘s reply to Elizabeth’s salutation is the canticle of praise to God, familiarly called the”Magnificat” from its first word. It runs thus: “My soul doth magnify the Lord and my spirit hath rejoiced in God my Saviour. Because He hath regarded the humility of His handmaid; for behold from henceforth all generations shall call me blessed. Because He that is mighty hath done great things to me; and Holy is His name. And His mercy is from generation unto generations, to them that fear Him. He hath shewed might in His arm, He hath scattered the proud in the conceit of their heart. He hath put down the mighty from their seat and hath exalted the humble. He hath filled the hungry with good things and the rich He hath sent empty away. He hath received Israel His servant, being mindful of His mercy, as He spoke to our fathers, to Abraham too, and his seed forever” (Luke i, 46–55).

This hymn of praise to God for the favours bestowed on Mary and all mankind has never ceased being sung throughout the ages after Mary’s example.

The Bible concludes the account of Mary’s visit to Elizabeth with the following words:”And Mary abode with her about three months; and she returned to her own house” (Luke i, 56). From this we conclude that Mary remained with her cousin till the birth of John the Baptist. The lesson we learn from Mary’s visitation and stay, during which time she must have been of incalculable help to her cousin, is that we too should be charitable and always ready to help our neighbour in whatever way we can.

ANXIOUS DAYS

On her returning home Joseph saw in his bride the signs of motherhood. As he did not know the mystery of the Incarnation, the situation must have been very painful both to Mary and to him, especially as Mary must have told him previously of her vow of virginity. She did not explain things to him, but praying hard asked God to reveal the mystery to Joseph, as He had done to Elizabeth. And God, hearing her prayer, revealed her true condition to St. Joseph in His own good time. The Gospel tells us that”Joseph, her husband, being a just man and not willing publicly to expose her, was minded to put her away privately. But while he thought on these things, behold the angel of the Lord appeared to him in his sleep, saying: Joseph, son of David, fear not to take unto thee Mary, thy wife, for that which is conceived in her, is of the Holy Ghost. And she shall bring forth a Son and thou shalt call His name Jesus; for He shall save His people from their sins. Now all this was done that it might be fulfilled which the Lord spoke by the prophet saying: Behold a virgin shall be with child and bring forth a son and they shall call His name Emmanuel, which being interpreted is, God with us.” (Matt. i, 19–23.) We can well imagine how glad St. Joseph was at this revelation and we easily understand what the Gospel adds: Joseph rising up from sleep did as the angel had commanded him and took unto him his wife. (Matt. 1, 24.) This was a true marriage, although Joseph, accepting God’s revelation, respected Mary’s vow of virginity.

The question may well be asked here, why Mary married St. Joseph, when she had consecrated her virginity to God. The Fathers of the Church offer many reasons. First of all we must not forget that divine Providence was at work here in a special way. St. Augustine says that Joseph was a just man and such a great Saint, that Mary was given to him to protect her virginity in holy wedlock, as the Jewish custom was not favourable to virginity. The good name of Mary had also to be protected against calumnies for the sake of Christ, her Son. The enemies of Jesus later on said in order to destroy His influence:”Is this not the carpenter’s son?” (Matt. xiii, 55). What would they not have said, had Jesus been born out of wedlock? Furthermore, who was to look after Mary and her Child and furnish them with the necessities of life? St. Joseph’s help was vitally necessary in Bethlehem, in their flight to Egypt, and during their long stay in Nazareth. We can only admire God’s Providence in making St. Joseph the foster father of Jesus and the true but virginal spouse of Mary.

THE BIRTH OF JESUS

The next scene in Mary’s life lies in Bethlehem. St. Luke tells us that Mary and Joseph journeyed from Nazareth to Bethlehem, obeying the decree of the Emperor Augustus prescribing a general census. As they belonged to the house of David, they had to be enrolled in the city of David, which was Bethlehem. On account of the census many people had come to Bethlehem, and Mary and Joseph, unable to find suitable accommodation, were forced to seek shelter in a cattleshed, where Jesus, the Saviour of mankind, was born in the humblest circumstances. The Gospel recording the birth of Mary s divine Son says:”And it came to pass that when they were there, her days were accomplished, that she should be delivered; and she brought forth her first-born Son (Luke ii, 6).

The Church during Christmas, untiringly sings the praises of the mother of our newborn Saviour. “Behold Mary has brought forth unto us the Saviour. Giving birth to the eternal King, she has combined the joys of a mother with the honour of a virgin; no one was privileged thus before her nor shall anyone be after her. On this day the Creator of mankind and King of Heaven deigned to be born of the virgin. The root of Jesse has budded forth, the virgin has brought forth the Saviour. O blessed Mother of God, undefiled thou hast borne today the Saviour of the world. Oh holy and immaculate virginity high above all praise; He Whom heaven could not enclose, thou hast enclosed in thee. Mother of God, intercede for us.” Such are the praises of the Church for Mary on the festival of the Nativity of Jesus. And indeed it is because she bore Jesus, that Mary is honoured with the highest title, “Mother of God.” For He, who was born of her, remained what He was, true God, and He assumed from her, what He did not have, His human nature.

The Gospel tells us that Mary, after having brought forth her Son, wrapped Him in swaddling-clothes and laid Him in a manger. We conclude from this that Mary did not suffer the pains of childbirth; her delivery was miraculous and glorious. Soon afterwards the shepherds summoned by the angels arrived and adored with Mary their new-born Saviour. How did Mary’s heart rejoice over this homage of the poor shepherds, and how must not her heart have overflowed with joy, when the three holy kings came to adore the divine Child! Let us, too, kneel down at the manger and with Mary and Joseph, the shepherds and kings, adore our divine Saviour.

PRESENTATION OF JESUS

Forty days after Christmas a festival is celebrated, which is called the Purification of the Blessed Virgin Mary. According to the religious law of the Jews a mother had to visit the Temple for legal purification and offer her first-born son to God; the child being redeemed by a customary symbolical offering. Mary, the mother of the supreme Lawgiver and virgin most pure, was exempted from such a law; but nevertheless she wished to fulfil it and thank God and show her readiness to surrender her divine Son as the victim of our redemption. The Gospel of St. Luke describes this presentation of Jesus in the arms of His mother, and the Church jubilantly sings on the feast of the Purification:”O daughter of Sion, welcome Christ the King; greet Mary with loving embrace; for she, who is the very gate of heaven, brings to thee the glorious King of the new light; though in her arms she bears a Son begotten before the day-star, yet ever she remaineth a pure virgin. Hers was the Child whom Simeon, taking up into his arms, declared unto all peoples to be the Lord of life and of death, the Saviour of the world.” Simeon, who was a just and holy man, had received the assurance from the Holy Ghost, that he would see the Saviour before he died. Led by the Holy Spirit, he came to the Temple, and recognising in the helpless Babe the promised Saviour, he took with joy the Child Jesus from His Mother’s arms, and praising God, thanked Him for the fulfilment of His promise to send the Saviour. Death no longer held any terrors for Simeon, now, that he held in his arms his Lord and God, his Saviour, the Light of revelation for all those in darkness and the Glory of his people. Mary and Joseph wondered at the things which were said about their child. And holy Simeon blessing them turned to Mary and, as if preparing her for her coming sorrows, said to her:”Behold this Child is set for the fall and for the resurrection of many in Israel and. for a sign which shall be contradicted and. . . . thy own soul a sword shall pierce” (Luke ii, 34). The evangelist concludes the record of the presentation of Jesus by His Mother with the words: “When they had fulfilled everything according to the law of the Lord, they returned home to their city Nazareth” (Luke if, 39). Remembering the example of the mother of Jesus, Christian mothers today visit the church with their new-born infant in order to thank God and make a small offering, usually a candle.

THE FLIGHT INTO EGYPT

The prophecy made by Simeon was soon to be fulfilled. Herod, then king of the Jews, having heard of the birth of Jesus, Whom he was told was of kingly descent, decided secretly in fear and hatred to kill the Child. However, the angel of the Lord was sent with a message to St. Joseph telling him of Herod’s evil designs and directing him to take Mary and the Child Jesus and flee into Egypt. Joseph, acting immediately upon the instruction given by the angel, left Nazareth by night on this difficult and hazardous flight to a foreign country. It was a journey of at least ten days, not spent in a comfortable train, but in great anxiety and discomfort on the back of an ass. How must not Mary’s motherly heart have grieved, that the Saviour of the world had to go into exile at the very beginning of His life. How great her suffering during the journey across the trackless desert! Fatigue, hunger, thirst must have tortured them, apart from the dangers of being attacked on the way by wicked men or wild animals. Such was the sword of sorrow and anguish piercing Mary’s heart, that we commemorate the flight to Egypt as one of her seven dolours. Mary, who must have suffered so much on this occasion, will certainly understand all those who come to her in their hour of need; and there are such situations in every human life which may be compared with the flight into Egypt. Be assured that in all the troubles of this life on earth we have an understanding Mother in heaven.

We do not know for how long Mary lived in exile. Possibly it was for some years, during which time Egypt was privileged to be the centre of the world, as our Lord and Saviour lived there, cared for by His holy Mother. Of one thing we are certain, that Mary did not despair in her exile, nor did she question God’s will. Jesus was her all, and He being with her, even exile was tolerable. Mary did not complain, for she knew that God’s arrangements are always the best. She did not question the reason, why God did not stay the hand of the tyrant king, Herod, instead of sending innocent people into exile. Mary, who had promised at the time of the Annunciation that she would be the handmaid of the Lord, was ready to serve Him not only in joyful days, but also in times of trial. In the days spent in Egypt she fulfilled her pledge. Remembering the words her great ancestor, David, had sung in Psalm 22,”My road may run through the shadow of death, but I fear no harm, for Thou O God art at my side,” her resignation in God’s holy will was complete. What a lesson for us; if we be exiled or misunderstood, hated, persecuted or forced to live in surroundings and circumstances not to our liking, we should never despair, but, bearing in mind the sufferings of our heavenly Mother, we should resign ourselves like her. God is also with us in whatever circumstances we are.

IN NAZARETH

In due course the angel of the Lord brought news of wicked King Herod ‘s death to Joseph and commanded him to return to the Holy Land with the Holy Family. Joseph therefore took the Child and His Mother, Mary, and went to Nazareth, where they settled down in an humble home. In Mary the people of Nazareth saw only a beautiful young mother and her lovely child. Little did they realise that they were privileged to have living among them the Saviour of mankind and His Mother. They saw her preoccupied in her home, performing the various household duties, filling water at the well, lighting the fire, and cooking their frugal meals, cleaning, sewing, caring for her Divine Child, holding Him to her heart, whilst waiting for Joseph, who earned the wherewithal to maintain the Holy Family by the work of his hands. So it was that Mary lived in Nazareth, humble of heart, kind towards all, unwaited upon and unattended, like any servantless mother. And yet this simple life of Mary in Nazareth was a life most pleasing to God, a life over which the angels rejoiced; it was the life most perfect and most holy ever lived on earth by a mere creature, a life in perfect compliance with the holy will of God and entirely consecrated to the service of Jesus. Mary’s fine and skilful hands worked only for Jesus; the fine garments she made, the fine meals she prepared were for Him; the home she kept so clean out of love for Him; with her kind voice she spoke to Him; with her loving eyes she looked upon Him, Who was her only delight. With what reverence, devotion, perfection and piety must not Mary have served Jesus during those years. And what an excellent example our heavenly Mother sets us. Like her we should dedicate our lives to Jesus and do everything out of love for Him.

THE FINDING IN THE TEMPLE

Of Mary’s simple but heavenly life at Nazareth we find one instance recorded in the Gospel, which was again a trial for this loving mother. The Gospel tells us that the holy parents of Jesus went every year up to Jerusalem for the festival of the Pasch. When Jesus was twelve years old, He accompanied them on this pilgrimage. Mary must have remembered her visit to the Temple with Jesus in her arms and what Simeon had said to her in his prophecy. This visit caused Mary and Joseph great sorrow; for when they were returning home after the festival, Jesus remained in the Temple and His parents knew it not. According to the custom Mary had joined a group of women, who went homeward like her, whilst Joseph had likewise joined a group of men, each thinking that Jesus was with the other. When the pilgrims camped in the evening, they sought Jesus among their kinsfolk and acquaintances. How alarmed they must have been, when they discovered that Jesus was not among them. They hurried from group to group of the resting pilgrims, inquiring and hoping to find their lost Child. Their search proving fruitless, they lost no time in returning to Jerusalem that very night. Reaching the city at daybreak, they searched the streets of Jerusalem with unspeakable anxiety in their hearts; they stopped the passers-by, inquiring whether they had seen anything of a beautiful child. . But no one knew anything about their Son. The day passed and the night found Mary and Joseph still in their indescribable anguish and grief. O Mother of Jesus, what didst thou suffer in these days, what excruciating torture in thy heart! By that anguish in thy heart, O Mother, help us to search for and to find Jesus again, if we have lost Him through our committing sin. Finally, after three weary days and two sleepless nights, Mary found her Beloved Son in the Temple. Upon seeing Him she said:”Son, why hast Thou done so to us? Behold Thy father and I have sought Thee sorrowing.” (Luke ii, 48.) And Jesus answering them said that He had stayed back according to the will of His heavenly Father, Whose will He had come to fulfil in all circumstances. By His answer Jesus was preparing His loving mother for the time when His heavenly Father would bid Him leave her and start His public life in order to teach and to die for the redemption of mankind. The answer which Jesus gave were not words of rebuke, but words dictated by His messianic mission, in which Mary was to play so important a part.

Jesus then returned to Nazareth with His holy Mother and St. Joseph and remained obedient unto them, the Gospel tells us. (Luke ii, 51.) St. Bernard, unable to conceal his profound astonishment, exclaims:”He was subject to Mary! Think and choose which is the greater wonder, the all-kind condescension of the Son or the all-surpassing exaltation of His Mother; both are miracles; the fact that God is obeying a woman shows a humility without parallel; the fact that a woman gives precepts to God reveals a dignity without equal.” “One consideration we must add here: when Jesus, the Son of God, subjected Himself to Mary by obeying and honouring her, is it possible then for any follower of Christ not to honour and love her?

HUMBLE LABOUR

For the next eighteen years Mary lived with Jesus at Nazareth. Who can describe those years? St. Paul says:”You are dead and your life is hidden with Christ in God” (Col. iii, 3). Of no other one are these words more true than of Mary; she was indeed dead to sin and her life was hidden with Christ in God. Mary continued her unremitting care and service for Jesus. But how to describe her interior life? Real spiritual value and beauty lie in the soul. Mary’s heart, soul and mind were in all respects a most perfect imitation of Jesus. St. Paul tells us that according to God’s will the life task of each one of us is to conform our lives with that of Christ. In Mary this conformity with Christ was most perfect. During all these years Mary was continuously learning from Jesus, observing His life, taking in His words and applying them to her own life. Thus co-operating with the graces which God had bestowed upon her from the beginning, Mary proceeded from virtue to virtue, till all the virtues of Jesus were shining in her in the full splendour of highest personal sanctity. There, living with Jesus, the Author of all graces, Mary grew in grace; her Son had come that all should receive the divine life of grace in abundance (John x, 10); how did He fill the heart of His Mother with grace during those eighteen long years! Jesus Whose heart was a burning furnace of love for God, enkindled in Mary’s heart an ever-growing love for God. Jesus, Who had come to save the souls of men, made His Mother’s heart equally zealous for souls. There in Nazareth Mary lived with Jesus, the teacher of charity, humility, obedience; with Jesus, the lover of holy and chaste souls; with Jesus, Eternal Wisdom. In this school of Jesus Mary became the Mother of Fair Love, the virgin most kind, most humble, most obedient, most chaste and most prudent; in short, there in Nazareth Mary’s life became the most perfect imitation of that of Christ, till it was true to say that Mary lived no more, but Christ was living in her. So Mary’s life in Nazareth is a life hidden with Christ in God, a life which was simple and unobserved by the world, but most precious in the eyes of God.

Some have said: “Why not leave Mary in her hidden life, instead of making so much of her now?” To all those we reply in the words of St. Paul that, having lived with the hidden Christ, we shall also live with the glorious Christ. (Col. iii, 4.)

After Mary ‘s example our life also must be hidden with Christ in God. He must live in our thoughts, words and actions. We, too, must co-operate with God’s will and preserve unspotted for the day of judgment the white garment of sanctifying grace which we received in baptism.

DEATH OF ST. JOSEPH

Tradition tells us one thing more of Mary’s hidden life in Nazareth; the death of St. Joseph, who, dying so lovely a death in the arms of Jesus and Mary, has become for all time the Patron of the Dying-the Saint of a happy death. In every”Hail Mary” we implore our heavenly Mother also to be present with Jesus by us at the hour of our death.

THREE EPISODES

Now the day was approaching, when, according to the will of His heavenly Father, Jesus had to bid His Mother Mary farewell and to begin preaching publicly about the kingdom of God. During this apostolic life of Jesus, Mary is not found at the side of Jesus, but continued her hidden life at Nazareth. It is only on three occasions that she is mentioned during this period. The first is at Cana, at a marriage feast where, the wine running short, Mary, wishing to save the bridal couple from embarrassment, approached Jesus, Who had also been invited, and explaining the situation, requested Him to help them. The answer which Jesus gave His Mother was no refusal, since, in accordance with the will of His heavenly Father, Jesus performed the miracle Mary had asked for. The meaning of the reply to His Mother was:”Lady, why are you troubled; has not the hour for manifesting My power come?” Mary, understanding her Son and, knowing that He would grant her request, instructed the servants saying:”Whatever He shall say to you, do ye.” (John ii, 5.) On the second occasion we read of a visit Mary paid to her Son, while He was preaching to a great multitude. When Jesus was told by one of His hearers:”Behold Thy mother and brethren stand outside seeking Thee,” He answered: “My mother and brethren are they who hear the word of God and do it.” (Luke viii, 19–21.)

A similar statement was made by Jesus when a woman from the crowd listening to Him exclaimed: “Blessed is the womb that bore Thee and the paps that gave Thee suck.” But Jesus said: “Yea rather blessed are they who hear the word of God and keep it.” (Luke xi, 28.)

These are the only three occasions on which Mary is mentioned during the public life of Jesus. Does this suggest, that Jesus was wanting in honouring His Mother? Certainly not; such an interpretation would overlook the great privileges Christ had bestowed on His Mother, to whom He had been obedient for thirty years. What Jesus did on these occasions was to give His hearers a lesson, as they were proud of their carnal descent from Abraham, supposing themselves thereby predestined for heaven. Jesus made it clear to them that it was not the carnal descent that mattered in the kingdom of God, but the fulfilling of the will of God. These words of Jesus were in fact a public praise of His Mother, who excelled all others in fulfilling God’s will, being the most faithful and perfect handmaid of the Lord.

DURING THE PASSION OF JESUS

Mary continued her hidden life at Nazareth, whilst Jesus was preaching the kingdom of God. But when our divine Saviour, according to the will of His Father, began His Sacred Passion in order to redeem mankind by His death on the Cross, then Mary left the shelter of her home to share with her Son the sufferings of His Passion. Mary met Jesus as He struggled beneath the weight of the Cross on His way to Calvary. How sad must not that meeting have been. Never had a mother loved a child, as Mary loved Jesus; and now to see Him in the midst of soldiers, and an excited and derisive mob, dragging Himself beneath His heavy, cross! Such was the treatment meted out to Him Who was the delight of the angels in heaven; so was the Redeemer of mankind treated by them, whom He had come to save. Who can fathom the depths of sorrow felt by Mary at this meeting. Like a sword did sorrow pierce her mother’s heart again-true to the prophecy made in the Temple by Simeon. How much Mary must have suffered at this meeting no words can describe adequately; but what we know is that she bore her suffering in the same spirit as Jesus. O Mother of God, help us to carry our crosses through life as thou didst, with fortitude.

Again we find Mary on Mount Calvary, compelled helplessly to witness her Son stripped of His garments and having His hands and feet nailed to the cross. How the blows of the hammer that nailed His adorable hands and feet to the cross must have echoed in His Mother’s heart. How an agonising grief must have overwhelmed her, when she saw Him being roughly raised up on His cross!

Now Mary, the Mother of Sorrows, as the Gospel describes her, stands beneath the cross. For three torturing hours, which must have been for her like an eternity, she stood and watched her Son’s indescribable sufferings; knew Him tortured by a thirst which she was unable to assuage; heard Him mocked, derided and insulted, and was unable to defend Him; saw His eyes dimmed with blood from the wounds in His head, made by the crown of thorns, but could not wipe them; gazed on His tortured body, sagging heavily on His transfixed hands, causing agony be yond description, which she was powerless to relieve. St. Bernard, commenting on Mary’s sufferings, says:”Never can a tongue express or a heart conceive into what depths of sorrow Mary’s soul was plunged as she stood beneath the cross.” Holy Mother Church, in deep understanding, exclaims: “To whom can we compare thee, O daughter of Jerusalem? As great as the ocean is thy sorrow.” In the hymn, “Stabat Mater,” the sentiments of the Christian soul for this sorrowful Mother are admirably expressed. Is there a heart so hard as not to be touched by grief at the thought of this Mother’s unimaginable suffering; and remembering that our sins made Jesus and Mary suffer so much, must we not detest sin. As Jesus hung from the cross, while His Mother and St. John stood beneath, He turned to His Mother and said:”Woman, behold thy son,” and to St. John: “Behold thy mother.” According to the explanation of the Fathers of the Church, in that solemn moment Jesus made His Mother the spiritual Mother of all mankind; for St. John, as he stood there beneath the cross, represented all humanity. And by the words addressed to St. John,”Behold thy mother,” Jesus exhorts all those who believe in Him to love and honour His Mother, Mary. We should never forget the great kindness of Jesus in giving us His Mother for ourselves in His last agonising moments on the cross; selfless to the last, He thought only of us. Should we not then in undying gratitude to Jesus give Mary in our lives all the love, honour and respect that she deserves?

Standing there beneath the cross, Mary watched her Son die for the salvation of mankind. Her tears flowed as a river, yet she was completely resigned to God’s Will, the performance of which, to her as to her Son, was the sole purport of life. Again, Holy Mother Church, in deep understanding of Mary’s immense sorrows, makes her exclaim in the words of the prophet:”O all you who pass by, stop and see, if there is any sorrow as great as mine.” Mary had drained to the very dregs the cup of suffering with her divine Son; her heart had been pierced by the sword of sorrow, as her Son’s Heart had been pierced by the soldier’s lance.

THE DESCENT FROM THE CROSS

What must have been Mary’s feelings, when the dead Body of Jesus, taken down from the cross, was laid in her arms once more. With what love and tenderness did she hold His lifeless Body! She saw the terrible wounds made by the nails that transfixed His hands and feet; those hands and feet that had only worked for the good of others; tenderly she drew out the thorns which still pierced His head; with the gentle hands of love she washed His blood-smeared eyes and face, and, for the last time, combed and parted His hair. What memories must have tortured her then! Memories of the same hands, so tiny then, stretched out to her at Bethlehem; of those same feet when first He tried to walk in the exile days in Egypt; memories of when she first had combed His baby hair; memories leading back to Nazareth, in the quiet and so happy life with Joseph; memories of their parting, when He began His life of Ministry; memories of those years, when she had followed His public life from her retreat at Nazareth-all memories now, whilst there remain only the all-precious Body of her Son and her unbounded sorrow.

How often have not artists represented Mary with the dead Body of Jesus in her arms, and how many grief-stricken and afflicted people gazing thereon have found in the figure of Mary, with her dead Son, the meaning of their sufferings and the strength and courage to carry their crosses. Suffering makes us like unto Christ. Whosoever desires to follow Jesus must, like Mary, draw closer to Him and learn to carry the cross; but taking a greater share of His sufferings here on earth shall also mean to receive a greater share in His glory hereafter.

At the tomb Mary had to bid farewell to her adorable Son; only a mother bereft of her only son, who was her all, may feel, perhaps, what the loss of the best Son must have been to the best of Mothers. Simeon’s prophecy had been fulfilled; for the sake of Jesus Mary’s heart had been transfixed by the sharpest sword of sorrow.

For Mary, Holy Saturday dawned as a day of mingled grief and hope; grief in memories of the dreadful happenings of the previous day, hope in the certain knowledge of His glorious resurrection.

AFTER THE RESURRECTION OF JESUS

We come now to the last phase of Our Lady’s earthly life. We cannot but believe that Jesus, upon His resurrection, appeared to His Mother, Mary, first. She who had taken the greatest share in His suffering should have been also the first to see Him upon His glorious Resurrection. And as Jesus repeatedly thereafter appeared to His disciples, instructing them about His Church, so He must have repeatedly visited Mary, who had to play so important a part as the Mother of the young Church. Again, although the Gospel does not say so explicitly, we are sure, nevertheless, that Mary was present and saw her Son ascend gloriously into heaven. She who had seen Him lifted up upon His cross, sharing with Him His agony and ignominy, certainly was entitled to witness His greatest triumph, His glorious Ascension.

Upon returning from Mount Olivet, the place of the Ascension, Mary went with the disciples to the house in Jerusalem, where Jesus had eaten His last supper and instituted the Blessed Sacrament. There they spent their time in prayer, while waiting for the coming of the Holy Ghost. When, on the feast of Pentecost, all the disciples were filled with the Holy Ghost, Mary, who was His divinely chosen spouse from the time of the Incarnation, must have been endowed in superabundance with all His graces, for the motherly care, guidance and protection she had to afford to the early Church of Christ.

Further, we learn from the holy Scripture that the apostles, together with the faithful, gathered regularly for prayer and the breaking of the bread, thereby carrying out the command of Jesus:”Do ye this in commemoration of Me.” Mary was certainly present at those gatherings, which were no other than the early form of Holy Mass and Holy Communion. It is sweet indeed to think how St. John, celebrating Holy Mass, turned to Our Blessed Lady and gave her Holy Communion. Who could attend Holy Mass, receive Holy Communion and give thanks as Mary did; certainly it must have been a spectacle for angels and men. It was the presence of Jesus in Holy Communion that sustained her until the day she was assumed into heaven to join Him in perfect union.

Mary was the inspiration and encouragement of the early Christians. The success of the apostles in spreading the Gospel and in consolidating the early Church is greatly due to her prayers and help.

ASSUMPTION AND CROWNING IN HEAVEN

According to Our Lord’s wish, expressed on the cross, Mary lived under the care of St. John, travelling with him on his apostolic mission. We learn from tradition that they spent some time in the city of Ephesus. Again we know from tradition that Mary died in Jerusalem about the year 48 A.D. Her death was not the result of the penalty due to sin or disease, but of her burning desire to be dissolved and united with her divine Son in heaven. There she reigns as Queen and intercedes for us, that we, her children, may at the end of our earthly pilgrimage, join her and Jesus in heaven, glorifying God forever. And so concluding the history of Mary’s earthly life, let us turn our thoughts to her, who is our Mother in heaven. Let us strive to be her children and lift our hearts in prayer, saying:”Draw us after thee, O Virgin Mother, and intercede for us at the throne of God.”

Nihil Obstat

WILLIAM M. COLLINS, D.D., Diocesan Censor.

Imprimatur:

@ D. MANNIX,

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis.

********

Mass With The Holy Spirit

MGR. JOHN T. MCMAHON, M.A

INDEX

“O blessed Light of life Thou art, Fill with Thy light the inmost hearts of those that hope in Thee.” -Sequence of Pentecost.

“O blessed Light” is an act of faith in the divinity of the Holy Spirit for God alone is Light. As we hope to offer the

Holy Sacrifice of the Mass worthily we need this blessed Light to fill our hearts with love and devotion. The light of the Holy Spirit uncovers the treasures of the Mass and reveals its hidden secrets.

“O guide our minds with Thy blessed light

With love our hearts inflame

And with Thy store which ne’er decays

Confirm our mortal frame.”

-Veni Creator Spiritus.

St. Paul in his Epistle to theHebrews tells us that “Christ offered Himself, through the Holy Spirit as a victim unblemished in God’s sight.” (Heb. 9. 13.)

For sacrifice to have any value in the sight of God, it must come from love, it must be the fruit of love. Sacrifice is the expression of love, the proof of love, and the measure of love. God judges the sacrifice by the love that prompts it. The deeper the love the more acceptable is the sacrifice to God. Again the more one loves the more one gives. The sacrifice is then a gauge, an indicator to show outwardly the amount of love behind it.

When love is perfect the sacrifice is complete. A sacrifice to have infinite value must be the fruit of infinite love. When Christ offered Himself from the Cross to His Eternal Father, He did so through the Holy Spirit, who is infinite love. The Holy Spirit is the sigh of Divine Love of the Father and Son. To offer Himself through the Holy Spirit, Christ was perfect in His sacrifice.

OFFER OURSELVES THROUGH THE HOLY SPIRIT

All of us who wish to share in the sacrifice of Jesus, all of us who wish, like Him, to offer ourselves to the Father, must offer ourselves through the Holy Spirit. It is He who inspires all holy immolations and all fruitful martyrdoms. He enfolds our poor sorrows in the infinite sorrows of Jesus, mingles our blood with the Divine Blood, nails us to the Cross with the Divine Victim, fuses our hearts with the Divine Heart.

The Holy Spirit teaches us the wisdom of the Cross. He teaches us how to love the Cross. He makes us participate in the sacrifice of Jesus. He convinces us that the Cross is the foundation, the centre, and the summit of the spiritual life and of Christian perfection. In his flight the heavenly Dove always tends towards the Cross. The Cross, the supreme symbol of love and pain, is the perfection and crown of devotion to the Holy Spirit.

The loving dream of Jesus during His mortal life was the Cross. He longed for it as only the heart of the Man-God could long for the culmination of all His infinite aspirations. He revealed His secret in intimate conversations with His apostles, as when He said: “I have a baptism to be baptized with; and how distressed I am until it is accomplished.” (Luke :12 :50).

In his Epistle to the Hebrews, St. Paul makes this splendid revelation to us by taking the words of the Psalms and disclosing their meaning:

“Therefore in coming into the world, he says: “sacrifice and oblation Thou wouldst not, but a body Thou hast fitted to me. In holocausts and sinofferings Thou hast had no pleasure.” Then said I “Behold I come-in the head of the book it is written of me-todo Thy Will O God.”“ (Heb.).

IN MEMORY OF HIS PASSION

At the Offertory of the Mass we pray:

“Accept, most holy Trinity, this offering which we present to Thee, in memory of the passion, resurrection and ascension of Our Lord Jesus Christ. . . . .” The Resurrection and Ascension are mentioned to show that the sacrifice which Christ made in His passion, offered through the Holy Spirit, was acceptable to the Father. Christ rose from the dead and ascended to heaven to prove to all that His passion and death fulfilled the will of His Father.

God dies to glorify God. Jesus, knowing infinite goodness better than anyone, immolated Himself on the Cross with unfathomable love. Who but God can know the sublime fulness of this supreme glorification? And once the divine mystery is accomplished, there remains but to perpetuate it, to crystallize it, to make it immortal. Jesus has done this by giving us the marvellous miracle of the Eucharist.

If the Cross was for Jesus the centre of devotion to the Father, it should hold the same place for us. The sacrifice of the Cross was the perfect glorification of the Father, the supreme act of love for Him, and the perfect fulfilment of His will. Love is surrender, it is giving. Love is the power to lose all so as to gain all. We read in the Gospel that the Kingdom of Heaven is like a man who sells all he has in order to buy a precious, flawless pearl. This is a symbol of love. Supreme love is the infinite surrender.

SUFFERING SANCTIFIED BY LOVE

The love of the creature, since it is a reflection of eternal love, is also a total surrender. The angels accomplish it in the peace and joy of their spiritual and immaculate nature. On earth, the supreme giving of love cannot be made except in pain and death. “Give me a lover,” says St. Augustine, “and he will understand what I am saying.” Love without pain is truly insipid and imperfect.

Lacordaire writes: “Once the word of love has been pronounced, the only thing to do is to repeat it.” So Jesus perpetuated His sacrifice in two ways on earth: in the Blessed Eucharist and in souls. Therefore, the centre of Catholic worship-which in the Church is the devotion of Jesus to the Father in the Holy Spirit-is the Mass.

And the centre of Christian life is the mystic participation in the sacrifice of Jesus by each soul. Pope John XXIII in his address to the Lenten preachers of Rome, 1959, said:

“Christianity without the Cross, without suffering, without the assaults of the evil one, is not and could not be comprehensible. But suffering, of what kind so ever, becomes endurable by means of the gift of love given and received. Suffering, when it is sanctified by love, brings souls ever nearer the foretaste of intimate life with Christ.”

The Breviary of Piety for clerics issued by All Hallows” College, Dublin, says, “The first and most necessary act of religion is sacrifice; the first and most necessary thing in sacrifice is the devoted mind. The outworks of sacrifice in sign and symbol are but survivors. They help to foster and express, to nourish and exercise, the mind worshipping in spirit and truth. Should the mind of sacrifice be absent, they are a body without a soul, they are the corpse of religion, an abomination before God and a scandal to men.”

FROM CALVARY TO THE ALTAR

Let us approach the altar of God. along the way of the Cross. As Christ was led through His Passion and Death by the Holy Spirit, so let us ask the Holy Spirit to lead us through the Stations as the best preparation for Mass. Meditation is never easy but it is absolutely essential if we would grow in holiness of life. Doing the Stations is the easiest form of meditation. The movement from station to station prevents us from falling asleep. The pictures of the fourteen scenes aid our thinking. We do not need a book or guide, we just look and think. There are no set prayers. It is an exercise that leaves us perfectly free to think and say just what we like. It is a most natural and personal meditation, for we just chat with our Blessed Redeemer as He went from Pilate’s court to the sepulchre. Let us make the Stations with the Holy Spirit.

1st Station . Christ spoke very little before Pilate and not a word in Herod’s palace. The discipline of our tongues is difficult to take as St. James in his Epistle assures us that the person who does not offend in word is a perfect man. Through the merits of the silence of Jesus we ask the Holy Spirit to help us guard our tongues this day and to put upon the Paten this petition and resolution:

“Let me no wrong or idle word

Unthinking say

Set Thou a seal upon my lips

Just for today.”

2nd Station. At the second Station Christ through the Holy Spirit, Who is Love, accepts the Cross as the Will of His Father. We might think over the bold expression of St. Paul: “I am glad of my sufferings on your behalf, as, in this mortal frame of mine, I help to pay off the debt which the afflictions of Christ still leave to be paid, for the sake of His Body, the Church.” (Col. 1.24).

St. Paul’s sufferings were many and bit ter. Like a poor man contributing to pay off a sum which a richer man has paid in advance, St.Paul offers his pains back to Christ for the Church. Although Christ’s suffering were completely satisfactory on behalf of our sins, still we have a debt of honour, as it were, to repay them by sufferings of our own. We ask the Holy Spirit to send us this day a little splinter of the Cross which we will put into the chalice in advance.

3rd Station. At the third Station Christ falls and re-opens His wounds. Physical pain is never easy to bear. Love and love alone can help us to see the finger of God pressing upon us to make us more like unto Himself. Without the Holy Spirit we rebel against pain and fail to see its wisdom.

4th Station. At the fourth Station the Holy Spirit has much to teach us. The Body of Christ was formed as a temple of God by the Holy Spirit. Jesus is His masterpiece. Jesus was conceived by the operation of the Holy Spirit. The Spirit filled Him with His gifts, guided Him in all the steps of His mortal life, to His offering of Himself on the Cross and His immolation on Calvary.

The masterpiece of the Holy Spirit is Jesus. But is not the sanctification of our souls merely the extension and complement of the Holy Spirit’s work in Jesus? To the Apostle Paul the mystery of Christ is the immense multitude of souls that are members of the Mystical Body. The complete Jesus embraces us all. To sanctify souls is to complete Jesus: it is to consummate the mystery of Christ. To sanctify us is for the Holy Spirit to complete His work accomplished in Jesus Christ.

Mary, His immaculate Spouse, comes next to the Spirit’s masterpiece, Jesus. So inspired by the Holy Spirit let us link in our thoughts the Annunciation, the Incarnation, the Passion and the Mass as we meditate on the Fourth Station.

The Angelus might be said, omitting the Aves, to prepare us for the continuation of the Incarnation in the Mystery of Transubstantiation. Five words accomplished the work of the Holy Spirit in Mary’s womb: Be it done unto me ac- cording to thy Will” (Fiat mihi secundum verbum tuum.) Five words spoken by the priest “For this is My Body,” (Hoc est enim corpus meum.), and the Holy Spirit operates a new birth of Christ upon the altar.

5th Station. At the fifth Station Simeon hesitates but eventually shoulders the Cross to his joy and salvation. How reluctantly we all carry the Cross behind Our Lord! But when we do accept the crosses He sends, we share the joy and satisfaction of Simeon. The Holy Spirit is the master of prayer and He will strengthen us to learn to practise daily the prayer of self-denial.

6TH STATION. AT THE SIXTH STATION VERONICA, GUIDED BY THE HOLY SPIRIT, SHOWED HEROIC COURAGE IN FACING THAT HOWLING MOB. THE FACE OF CHRIST IS DISFIGURED BY THE FILTH AND SPITTLE OF SIN.

Surely, it is easy for us to recall our share in this sad scene. Let us offer back our sorrow through the Holy Spirit and in the Mass pay our debt of reparation and so cleanse the Face of Christ.

7th Station. The seventh Station re-opens His wounds and increases His suffering because of sin. Let us ask the Holy Spirit to keep us mindful of our past sins, to excite us to true sorrow, and by prayer and penance to make up to God for our share in Christ’s Calvary. Within the Mass the Holy Spirit can renew us and set our feet on the path to holiness which is the way of the Cross.

8th Station. What an extraordinary scene is the eighth station! Our Blessed Lord is a pitiable sight. The holy women are moved and sympathetic. But Christ forgets His own terrible condition to console them. How differently we act as we parade our own ills and grievances! The Holy Spirit will strengthen us to bring all that happens to us as gifts for the chalice.

9th Station. The ninth Station shows Christ almost finished as He falls the third time. But He gathers His failing strength that He may finish the work God gave Him to accomplish. Through the Holy Spirit we also can arise and fight ourselves and build ourselves into better men and women within the Mass.

10th Station. The tenth Station asks us to meditate on the extreme torture Christ endured when they dragged His garments off His torn body. The embarrassment of the Immaculate Son of God exposed to that rabble was intense. To strip ourselves of fleshy desires and worldly ties is a constant struggle which depends for success upon the Holy Spirit.

11th Station. The eleventh Station puts before us the pierced hands and feet of Christ for our meditation. The illumination of the Holy Spirit must guide our feet each day and save our hands from sin. Newman’s prayer is most appropriate at the opening of each day. He asks the Holy Spirit, who is the Light, to guide his steps.

“Lead, kindly Light, amid the encircling gloom,

Lead Thou me on;

The night is dark, and I am far from home,

Lead Thou me on;

Keep Thou my feet; I do not ask to see

The distant scene; one step enough for me.”

What wisdom lies beneath the words- “I do not ask to see the distant scene- one step enough for me.

12th Station. The twelfth Station Christ dies on the Cross and the masterpiece of the Holy Spirit, Jesus Christ, has finished the work His Father gave Him to do. That work of redemption He continues in the Mass. A verse from the Adore Te Devote summarizes this.

O memorial of my Saviour dying, Living Bread that givest life to man; May my soul, its life from Thee supplying, Taste Thy sweetness, as on earth it can.”

To love the Cross, we must see Jesus on it and understand the personal and indestructible ties that bind Him to it. To love the Cross, we must experience the sweet and strong attractions which Jesus Crucified exercises over souls, as He Himself promised: “And I, if I be lifted up from the earth, will draw all things to Myself.” (John. 12. 32).

It is the Holy Spirit, through Whom, Christ offered Himself on the Cross, Who can help us to taste the sweetness of suffering here on earth. There is no place, no time, no occasion more pleasing to God than the celebration of the Mass. Let us implore the Holy Spirit to constantly remind us of this and help us to link Calvary with the Consecration and to offer ourselves within it.

13th Station. At the thirteenth Station we beseech the Holy Spirit to convince us of sin, what a real and terrible thing it is in the eyes of God! The broken Body of Christ lies in the arms of his Blessed Mother, a victim for sin. Illuminated by the Holy Spirit let that scene come alive for us and fill us with a fear of sin which cost so much to repair. Keeping this scene in mind we will say the many prayers in the Ordinary which plead for forgiveness of sin. For example, the Confiteor, the prayer ascending the altar, the prayer on kissing the altar, the Kyrie Eleison, the offering of the bread, the Agnus Dei, and the Domine non sum dignus.

Calvary was a sin offering and the Mass continues that sacrifice of redemption and reparation. We must never forget our sins in praying the Mass. The modern man has lost his sense of guilt in sin. For our own sins and those of the world we must, through the guidance of the Holy Spirit, constantly make amends by prayer and penance, and the best way to do that is to come to the altar of sacrifice over the hill of Calvary.

14th Station. The fourteenth Station brings us very close to Mary, the Mother of Sorrows, as she lays the body of her Son in the tomb. As the immaculate Spouse of the Holy Spirit she was guided and strengthened by Him throughout that sorrowful journey which ended at the sepulchre. She answered in her heart a fervent “Amen” at each stage of the Passion because it was the will of His Father. Without the Holy Spirit she could never have done It. She stood by her Son to the bitter end and learned more about the sacrifice of the Mass in those hours than all the saints and doctors have written. She will stand by us throughout the Mass and help us to pray it better. When we call Mary to our side at Mass we are certain that the Holy Spirit comes also to help us for wherever Mary is He is sure to be. That is a most fruitful thought for co-operating in the Mass-the Holy Spirit and Mary at our side.

ABOVE ALL IN THE HEART

Pope Pius XII advises us that”religion must not be in the head alone but above all in the heart.” The Liturgy recommends to priests certain prayers before Mass. These prayers call on the Holy Spirit to prepare the hearts of priests about to celebrate Mass. All of us could with profit to our souls say those prayers.

Let us pray: Incline, O most gracious Lord, Thine ears of mercy to our prayers, and enlighten our hearts by the grace of the Holy Spirit, so that we may merit worthily to administer Thy mysteries and to love Thee with an everlasting love.

O God, before Whom every heart lies open and to Whom every desire speaks, and from Whom no secret lies hid, cleanse the thoughts of our hearts by the pouring forth of Thy Holy Spirit, so that we may merit perfectly to love Thee and worthily to praise Thee.

Inflame, O Lord, our reins and our hearts with the fire of the Holy Spirit, so that we may serve Thee with a chaste body and please Thee with a clean heart.

We beseech Thee, O Lord, that the Comforter, Who proceedeth from Thee, may enlighten our minds, and lead us as Thy Son has promised, into all truth.

May the power of Thy Holy Spirit, we beseech Thee, O Lord, be present unto us, mercifully to cleanse our hearts and to defend them from all harm.

O God, who didst teach the hearts of the faithful by the light of Thy Holy Spirit, grant that in the same Spirit we may be truly wise and ever rejoice in His consolation.

Cleanse, we beseech Thee, O Lord, our consciences by Thy visitation, so that when Our Lord Jesus Christ, Thy Son, shall come He may find in us a mansion prepared for Him: who liveth and reigneth with Thee in the unity of the Holy Spirit, God, world without end. Amen.

COME, O SANCTIFIER

At every Mass the Church invokes in a special prayer the blessing of the Holy Spirit. This is what the celebrant does and says at the Offertory. He separates his hands, elevates them, looks up at the crucifix, joins his hands, lowers his eyes and says:

“Come, Thou Sanctifier, Almighty, Everlasting God, an d bless these sacrificial gifts, prepared for the glory of Thy Holy Name.”

He makes the sign of the cross over the bread on the paten and the wine in the chalice. What a solemn, impressive blessing! Raising his eyes to heaven the priest invokes the Holy Spirit to bless the bread and wine soon to be changed into the Body and Blood of Christ through the mystery of Transubstantiation.

The Holy Spirit through Whom Mary conceived and brought forth her Son continues the Mystery of the Incarnation to this very hour in the consecration of the Mass. At the Offertory our thoughts are on the Incarnation thinking of the fruit of Mary’s womb.

The one great word Our Lord speaks in the Gospel is the word of the Cross. In the Mass He gathers us into His sacrifice. In simplicity and humility of heart we come bringing our gifts in token of our sacrificial mind. These gifts are borne reverently from the credence table to the table of the altar where the priest lays them in order carefully upon the sacred stone where already lie the ashes of sacrifice as relics of the saints. We invoke the Holy Spirit to bless these sacrificial gifts of bread and wine and we who offer them that the spirit of the Cross, the gift of self-sacrifice may be ours. To have joy in self-offering we must have the blessing of the Holy Spirit. A humble, contrite heart alone may hope to be lifted up by the Holy Spirit and be changed by Him into the image of Jesus Christ.

This prayer reveals the part played by the Holy Spirit in the work of our redemption. He prepared the Victim in the mystery of the Incarnation. He inspired the mission of Christ. He also is responsible for the final act of the Saviour, His passion and death on the Cross. This mission of love is continued in the Holy Eucharist. The powerful, infinite !ove which brought all this about is the Holy Spirit. It is fitting, therefore, that the Holy Spirit should be invoked to sanctify the sacrificial elements as He has blessed and prepared the Divine Victim.

Through the sacraments of the Holy Ghost, Baptism and Confirmation, we have been incorporated into Jesus Christ and thus have a share in the Saviour’s sacrifice on the cross and on the altar. The Holy Spirit is active within our souls through grace so that we can add to the sacrifice of the Body and Blood of Jesus Christ the sacrifice of our own body and blood so that the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass may be our sacrifice.

PLANT AND FRUCTIFY THE SEED OF GOODNESS

“O Sanctifier, all -powerful, Thou Whom nothing can resist, come. Thou Who completest masterpieces and Who dost inaugurate them, plant in us the seed of goodness and make it fructify!”

We have no perseverance, no spirit, no fervour in offering ourselves with the Son of God. We would like to leave Him and we, too, sleep while He is in His agony. What a big thing for us is an hour’s prayer, a half hour, even ten minutes!

“O Spirit of Initiative and of Great Persuasion, arouse us all from lethargy. Shake us out of our sloth and sweep us along. Quicken our souls to prayer and love, and grant that through Thee, we, like St. Andrew, may run daily to our sacrifice, our beloved immolation, and that like Peter and John, we shall find delight in having being judged worthy of being humiliated for the name of Jesus.”

“O Thou, the Specialist of Love, and of the fresh bursting forth of beauty in souls, come and give to this Sacrifice prepared for Thy glory, a luxuriant benediction!” (Living the Mass-F. Desplanques, S.J. Ps. 57–58.)

LOVE DEMANDS MORE THAN WORDS

Love feels that words can never do it justice. As children we realized how inadequate they were to express our love for our parents on any special occasion, such as Christmas or a birthday. Having no money we unashamedly asked our parents for some and gladly did we spend it on gifts to celebrate the day. And our parents were so delighted at this expression of our love for them that they quite forgot that it was their money which purchased the gift. And so it goes on the world over, human love calls to human love in the language of giving, for gifts are more eloquent than words.

Sacrifice is the highest form of giving. Sacrifice expresses our love for God by offering Him a gift. Whatever gift we make to God is made sacred by its contact with the altar. In sacrifice our gift is dedicated, consecrated, set apart ir- revocably to honour God.

In the Old Law a gift offered in sacrifice to God was called a host, a holocaust, an immolation, words which bring vividly before us the altar of holocausts, with the smoke of sacrifice rising up to God before the Temple at Jerusalem.

Christ in His own supreme sacrifice on Calvary obeys this natural instinct of showing one’s love by gifts. For we can say that Christ on the Cross spoke His love for the Eternal Father with His Body broken for men, with His Blood shed for men.

After Calvary, St. John assured the disciples that Christ’s gift of Himself on the Cross was the proof of His love for us: St. John writes: “Hereby we have come to know His love for us.”

THE INNER GIFT COMES FIRST

Sacrifice is a giving, but whatever is offered must bespeak the inner gift of love.

Were our parents to learn from our conversation as children that we no longer loved them, neither father nor mother would welcome a gift from us. To send a gift to anyone and not to have any real friendship behind it is just hollow pretence. Such make belief may deceive our fellows for a while, but it cannot deceive God for the Bible assures us: “Man sees the things that appear but the Lord seeth the heart.”

In the opening chapter of the history of man we read that Cain and Abel offered sacrifice to God. God accepted the gift of Abel because the gift spoke the love of the giver. The gift of Cain He rejected because in the heart of Cain lurked a hatred for his brother Abel.

From the time of Moses the Jews fulfilled the instructions presented in the Book of Leviticus for offering sacrifice. The priests wore vestments rich and becoming, the victims were selected with care. There was dignity and decorum in the rite of sacrifice, the temple setting left nothing to be desired. And yet God spoke through the mouth of the prophet, Malachias, saying: “I have no pleasure in you and will not receive a gift from your hands.”

Why these words of rejection? Because priests and people concentrated on external ceremony, a cold, correct, official duty with no self-offering or turning of the inner man back to God.

A WARNING FOR US

But have these words of Malachias: “I have no pleasure in you”-no message for us? Yes, indeed, they are addressed to us in warning lest our official act of sacrifice, the Holy Mass, may be just another cold external act of duty with no inner gift of love.

St. Thomas Aquinas leaves no doubt on the point, for he writes: “Sacrifice is twofold. The first and principal is the inward sacrifice. The other is the outward sacrifice.”

One may say, with all due reverence, that Christ’s inner gift of Himself in the Garden of Olives was more pleasing to His Eternal Father than the physical gift of His Body to the scourges, of His Head to the crown of thorns, and of His Life to the Cross.

St. Paul meditating on this inner gift of Christ uses these beautiful words: “He emptied Himself.” That self-offering of Christ in His Passion was the only perfect act of worship since time began. Nothing of self remained in the Heart of Christ. Everything was emptied out of Him except the love of His Eternal Father and His love for us.

For us, such perfection is not possible. Yet, when we come to Mass with the inner gift of self, our giving grows by being associated with Christ.

The Mass is our sacrifice, offered by us living men through the power won for us by Christ. At Mass Christ takes our gifts, small though they are, and offers them the priceless gift of Himself, and our little offerings catch the reflection of the gift of gifts, once offered on Calvary, and continued to be offered in every Mass.

WHY DO WE GO TO MASS?

Why do we go to Mass? What brings us to Mass? We go to Mass because God has rejected all other forms of sacrifice, which of old satisfied the natural instinct of the human heart, and instituted this “clean oblation” as the only one acceptable to Him.

We go to Mass to give back to God the Father, through the Holy Spirit, Jesus Christ, His only begotten Son for the same intentions for which Christ offered Himself on the Cross, namely, the redemption and sanctification of man.

We go to Mass to speak to God in the sign-language of giving. In offering the Mass through the Holy Spirit, we fulfil the four ends of sacrifice, namely, adoration, reparation, thanksgiving, and petition.

When we attend Mass we are not just an audience, like mute spectators in a theatre. No, at Mass we are co-offerers, co-operators, participants, actors in a drama with a part to play and lines to speak.

The early Christians were more conscious of their share in the Mass because they baked the unleavened bread in their own homes and brought it with them to Mass. The whole family, sometimes groups of families, just like our modern busy-bee, pressed the grapes for wine.

At the Offertory the people came in procession bearing their gifts in their hands, which the priests accepted at the altar, selecting what was needed for the sacrifice and reserving the rest for the poor. As the people sang the processional hymn each one felt he was an actor in the drama of the Mass. Bearing a gift in his hand he knew that the gift stood for the love of the giver, and the more loving the heart the more precious the gift.

WHAT GIFTS SHALL I BRING TO MASS?

Today at Mass we do not go in procession with our gifts at the Offertory. We have not the same reminder to bring a gift as the early Christians had. All the more reason is there that we stir ourselves to prepare gifts of self to place upon the paten and to pour into the chalice at the Offertory.

The Paten to pray: the Chalice to pay

United to Jesus in this holy way

We will have something to offer

In each Mass we pray.

As the priest raises up the paten with the host at the Offertory let us put ourselves upon it, our intentions, our needs, and our special wants for this day, this week. Before Mass begins we should make a list of petitions, of requests, of intentions so that we have something definite to pray for at Mass.

The chalice challenged Christ in the Garden of Olives. The chalice challenges us in the Mass. The chalice stands on the altar, its mouth open wide to receive our gifts of self, acts of self-discipline, and small victories over self. The chalice eagerly awaits each day’s weary round of worries, vexations, set-backs, humiliations and pains of mind and body. These are the common threads in the tapestry of daily living. We accept them with a bad grace and put up with them unwillingly. What a pity we do not spiritualize all these pin-pricks and petty annoyances? If we could only say to whatever hurts or displeases us:

“I”11 put you in my pocket and keep you as a gift to pour into the chalice next time I go to Mass.” To look upon human ills as gifts for the chalice would alter the whole pattern of our living and advance us on the way to holiness. During the day we could train ourselves to pause before each task to ask: “Do 1 look upon this duty as a gift for the chalice? If it is intended for the chalice then I should do it much better.”

When temptation comes with smiling, inviting eye, I will resist it if the thought of the chalice comes to mind, and I ask myself-”Can I keep this for the chalice? If I cannot offer this back to God from the altar then I cannot do it, or entertain it.”

The heroic soul will ask the Lord at the opening of each day to send him a splinter of the Cross to carry as a worthwhile gift for the chalice. We shall grow spiritually in proportion as we share in the Cross. The ideal of “the Paten to pray: the Chalice to pay” urges us and helps us daily.

MASS IS THE TIME AND PLACE TO GIVE

There is no place where giving is more acceptable to God than at Mass. The gifts we can give are not of much value to God. They are but brass offerings. But by uniting them with Christ’s great gift in the Mass, they are goldenized offerings.

During Mass Christ gives us so much. Surely, we should feel embarrassed unless we have offerings in our hearts to give in return.

“The all-wise God,” says St. Augustine, “knew nothing better: the all-powerful God could make nothing better: the allpossessing God could give no more than the Mass.”

Nihil obstat:

Bernard O”connor,

Diocesan Censor.

Imprimatur:

@ D. Mannix,

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis.

3/5/1960

********

Matrimony And Nullity

DOM PETER FLOOD, O.S.B

INDEX

AUTHOR’S NOTE

The purpose of this pamphlet is not controversial nor is it intended to be a complete and exhaustive account of the law governing matrimony. It is intended on the contrary to be a help to Catholics to understand the ordinary law governing the validity of matrimony and it indicates briefly how marriages, which for one reason or another have been contracted invalidly, may be remedied.

If this renovation of matrimony is to yield its desired fruits among the nations of the whole world and in all ages, it is necessary first that the minds of men should be enlightened on the true doctrine of Christ concerning marriage; and that married Christians, with the inner grace of God to strengthen their weakness, should conform their views and conduct to the most pure law of Christ, and so assure for themselves and their families true happiness and peace.

(Pope Pius XI, Encyclical Casti Connubii, 1930)

HOLY MATRIMONY

What is Marriage? Marriage is a state in which two people live together for the primary purpose of procreating children, for assisting one another in mutual help and for bringing up those children, that is to say, for securing their physical, mental and moral development until such time as they are able to carry on for themselves. In the beginning the command was given to men to increase and multiply and fill the earth. It is evident, therefore, that this natural contract of matrimony was instituted by God and it is therefore a holy thing; the state of matrimony is a good state; it follows naturally upon a mutual agreement which we call the contract of matrimony. We read in Genesis, Chap. 2. v. 24: “Wherefore a man shall leave father and mother and shall cleave to his wife, and they shall be two in one flesh.” Throughout the Old Testament, therefore, marriage was a natural but a holy contract. Our Lord, on the occasion of His very first miracle by His presence at the marriage feast at Cana, sanctified marriage in a particular way and raised it to the level of a sacrament. Later in the course of His public life He quoted the paragraph from Genesis which we have cited above and added : “Therefore now they are not two but one flesh. What therefore God has joined together, let not man put asunder.” (Matt. 19 : 6). He also pointed out that the permission accorded by Moses, a limited form of divorce, was granted only “by reason of the hardness of your hearts” and that that permission was now at an end.

St Paul (1 Cor. 7 : 10) said: “Not I but the Lord commandeth that the wife depart not from her husband . . . and let not the husband put away his wife.” The Church has always taught and the Council of Trent has asserted and defined that marriage is a true sacrament and we know that all the sacraments were instituted by Christ Himself. In fact, this institution by Christ is one of the necessary conditions for constituting a sacrament. Now what do we mean when we say that a marriage is a sacramental marriage ? The Code of Canon Law says that Our Lord raised to the dignity of a sacrament the very contract of matrimony between baptised persons. Hence between baptised persons there can be no valid contract of marriage without there being a sacrament. All those who are validly baptised, that is to say, really baptised, when they contract marriage validly between themselves receive the sacrament of matrimony whether they know it or not, whether they will it or not. In a mixed marriage between a Catholic or a baptised non-Catholic and one who is not baptised, there is no sacrament but only the natural bond of matrimony. But if the unbaptised partner should at a later date become baptised then that natural bond, that natural matrimony, becomes a sacramental marriage. It is important to remember this in the case of what are called ‘mixed’ marriages when the non-Catholic partner is converted at a later date to the Faith, but of course if both parties were validly baptised and married, the marriage is a sacrament from the beginning.

Now what are the advantages of sacramental marriage ? Sacramental marriage means that those who enter into it enter into a holy and a sacred state of marriage in which they receive an increase of sanctifying grace; they are raised, as it were, to a higher plane of supernatural activity, and at the same time they have a right to all the necessary graces that their state requires from time to time. And if they ask for them, they will receive them. We all know that the state of marriage requires special graces, special assistance from God, in order that the partners to the marriage themselves may be able to overcome the difficulties and sometimes the sorrows that come to them in the ordinary course of their lives as married people; that they may be able to be of greater help and mutual assistance to one another; that they may be able to order their passions rightly within the norms of Christian married life, and that they may be able also to fulfill their duty fully to the children whom God entrusts to them, so that these children will grow up in the love and knowledge of God and in their turn become good Christian parents, with the result that, for generations to come, there will be people upon the earth descended from that first marriage who will be good Christians, and members of the Mystical Body of Christ. We see, then, that the primary end or purpose of matrimony is the procreation or begetting of the new generation, but we see also that not merely a new generation is provided, but a family is founded that may go on for many centuries, consisting of countless numbers of human beings who belong to God. In the married state the partners to the marriage, by the power given to them by God, provide the body and God himself infuses the soul into the new human being, His new child, whom He has from all eternity chosen to be given into the care, the loving care, of those particular parents. Marriage is therefore a partnership with God in the multiplication of the human race upon the earth, and the fulfilment of the duties of the married state, both the marriage act itself and all those duties that they perform in regard to one another and that they exercise in the care and upbringing of their children, are good and holy things in the sight of God and bring to each of them an increase of merit which will be a part of their glory for all eternity.

We see, therefore, how holy is that state, when those who enter into it have a proper sense of their responsibility and who enter into it under the conditions laid down by God and who fulfil the duties of that state in life so far as they are able.

It can truly be said that those who fulfil their duties in the married state, both to themselves and to their children, arrive very easily at a high state of sanctity.

UNITY

It requires very little understanding to realise that one of the necessary properties of matrimony should be what is called ‘unity,’ that is to say, that each partner has given rights to the other partner over himself or herself exclusively, and that each therefore is to be faithful to the other until death separates them. This unity, this monogamy, is certainly necessary to give a sense of security to the partners, and also to enable them to feel secure in regard to their children so that whatever happens to either one of them the other will continue to look after those children. In it they feel certain that neither of them will neglect or desert the other or the children of their union. It is therefore evident that unity is an essential property of marriage.

INDISSOLUBILITY

We have seen both from the statement of Our Lord and from the divine law announced by St Paul that marriage is indissoluble, that is to say, that neither the parties themselves nor any human authority can separate them, and break or dissolve the bond that unites them in the state of marriage. This indissolubility is necessary for the marriage state because without it there can be no security for one or other partner as to the future. Without it there could be no understanding that differences and difficulties must be put aside and that it is more important for them to grow in loving affection for one another and for their children than to emphasise the natural differences that arise from time to time in the course of married life. Knowing that the bond is permanent each will strive his or her best to make it work and, of course, in sacramental marriage, they have, in addition, a right, a claim, to the special actual graces of the sacrament. It has been truly said that the marriage state has been entered into by, and at the time of, the contract of matrimony, but that the state of matrimony exists for the whole of the life of the two partners; and throughout all that state the sacramental state persists in the sense that they have the added graces of their state and that they have a claim to whatever actual graces may be necessary to enable them to fulfil their duties in it.

THE CONTRACT

Let us now look at the contract or agreement between the parties which initiates the state of marriage. A young man and a young woman express their intention of getting married and upon a stated occasion formally enter into a mutual contract whereby they interchange rights for the performance of acts which in themselves, if performed normally, lead to the procreation of children. Here we might say that there is a difference between sterility and impotence. Sterility means that although the parties perform the marriage act normally and therefore fulfill their marriage contract, they are unable for other reasons, not connected directly with the marriage act itself, to have children, None the less, in these cases the act is a good thing in itself and is directed to a good purpose-the procreation of children. Impotence is the incapacity on the part of an individual to perform the marriage act.

What is required to make this a valid contract? Obviously the very first thing is that the parties should be free to make it, that they should not be impeded by law in any way from entering into such a contract. The Canon Law (i.e. the law of the Church) says that everyone who is not impeded by law can contract matrimony. It is obvious, therefore, that any person who is prohibited by law cannot validly contract, that is to say, that if they enter into the contract, it is in fact no contract, it has no effects. Even in civil law there are requirements or pre-requisites to the validity of different classes of contract. Perhaps the very first thing which is necessary in any contract, but particularly in this one, is that the parties making it should know what they are doing. They must therefore be sane and they must have a knowledge of the matter of the contract, that is to say, they must understand what rights they are interchanging. It is not necessary that they understand in detail the nature of the marital act but they must at least know that children may be begotten of them by a physical intercourse. Secondly, they must have attained a certain age. It is the practice of all legislators in the world to lay down a minimum age for matrimony which is usually related to the age at which human beings are capable of the duties that the state of marriage implies. The Church lays down that the age for matrimony shall be 16 completed years in the case of the male and 14 in the case of the female. At the same time, cognizance is taken of the fact that in different countries the civil law may require a higher age group in certain cases.

INTENTION

Now the intention of the parties ought to be expressed openly because it is a very difficult thing to know what the intention of a person’s mind may be upon a specific occasion. There is therefore a strong presumption in law that the intention of the mind is that which is expressed in the external act of speech. These requirements are necessary because otherwise it would be open to anybody to claim that they had a different intention from that which they expressed in words. Whilst it is true, of course, that the intention in the mind and the intention expressed ought to be the same, if it could be proved that the parties did not have the intention of entering into matrimony at the time, there would, of course, be no true contract and an appropriate Court might declare as much. For example, if at a party, two people pronounce externally the words of matrimony to one another as a joke, the intention of their minds would obviously not be that of entering into the state of matrimony and no bond of matrimony could result from such a statement. Now not merely is it necessary that the parties should have the requisite knowledge and adequate age and the proper intention expressed externally, but they should be expressed in a certain form and under such conditions that a record of it may be taken and filed for future reference. Entering into matrimony is a very serious matter and there should necessarily be a degree of formality about it, not merely because of the thing in itself, but also from the very practical point of view that there will always be some few who will wish at a later date to deny that in fact they entered into that particular marriage. It is therefore a security to both parties to have a certain formality about the entrance into the ‘Stateof marriage,’ and therefore all legislators and especially the Church have provided for it.

These desirable formalities we class under the heading of the Form of Matrimony. We shall refer to this more fully later on.

IMPEDIMENTS

For the moment let us consider the question of those who are prohibited by law from entering into the state of matrimony. Such parties are stated to be ‘impeded’ or to possess an impediment to their matrimony. Some of these impediments are more serious than others, in the sense that if a person impeded by a particularly grave impediment enters or purports to enter into the contract, his or her contract will be invalid, that is, it will have no value or meaning. On the other hand, others are less important, and generally speaking only render the contract illegal, unlawful, that is to say, that those entering into it, though they will have done wrong in entering into it in that state, i.e. whilst so impeded, yet the contract will have been validly made, and they will be truly married. Those impediments which are most important are called idiriment impediments.’ We have already seen some of them, notably the requirement that the parties must be of a certain age. Secondly, there is the impediment of what is called ‘impotence.’ Impotence is the incapacity to perform the marital act on the part of either party. If this incapacity is permanent in a particular individual and present at the time of entering into the contract, the contract is not, and cannot be, valid because no one could contract to perform something which he is incapable of performing. Similarly, one of the parties might be validly married already and his or her partner still living. In this case any new contract of matrimony would be invalid.

Equally, certain relationships whether of blood or of affinity preclude one from entering into a valid marriage. This is most true, and of divine ordinance, in the case of what is called the direct line of consanguinity, ascending and descending No one can marry one of his own descendants or one of his own grandparents. These as well as the other impediments, which we need not list here, are necessary to safeguard the structure of the divine institution of matrimony which is so rightly called ‘holy matrimony.’ There are in fact about a dozen diriment impediments to matrimony. Some of them are not so common as others; for example, a religious who has taken solemn vows, or a priest, has a diriment impediment to matrimony, and if such a one were to attempt matrimony, the contract that he would attempt to enter into would be invalid and there would be no true marriage.

DISPENSATIONS

Certain impediments can be dispensed. For example, the Church disapproves very strongly of Catholics marrying non-Catholics whether these latter be baptised or whether they are not baptised. And she does everything she can to hinder such marriages because they may lead to loss of faith and because her experience has shown her conclusively that the large majority of them are unhappy and this must be so because in the first place those marriages in which the non-Catholic partner is unbaptised are not sacramental and in the second place a difference of opinion, a difference of belief in a thing so important as the truth of a particular religion, is a barrier to the complete understanding that should exist between two married persons. There is also the further difficulty that as the children grow up questions as to their education will arise and the children themselves will often be confused or puzzled, sometimes even distressed, by the fact that one parent has no religion or has a religion which the other regards as false. There are, however, cases in which the Church is willing to grant a dispensation from .these impediments which are called respectively the impediment of mixed religion, and the impediment of disparity of cult when the other party has not been baptised, as for example, a Jew or a Jewess or one who perhaps has no religion at all. But when the Church grants these dispensations she requires from the non-Catholic party first that they should attend a certain number of instructions on the Catholic Religion in order that they may have a general idea of the teaching of the Church in regard to the state of matrimony, and secondly, they must give satisfactory assurances as to their future conduct in that state and also in regard to the education of any children, should their union be blessed with them.

THE FORM OF MATRIMONY

As we said, a certain formality of procedure is necessary and required by all legal systems. The Church requires what is called the Catholic Form of Matrimony and by that we mean that the parties must enter into the sacrament of matrimony in the presence of the Bishop of the area or the parish priest or a priest delegated by one of them, and two witnesses. These requirements are obviously of a disciplinary nature only and therefore could be varied from time to time. The Church lays down that all those who were baptised in the Catholic Church or who were converted to it from heresy or schism, even if they should have lapsed, are bound to this form of matrimony as often as they contract between themselves; and also those same persons, if they should enter into matrimony with non-Catholics whether baptised or not baptised, and even if they should have a dispensation from the impediment created by the latter belonging to another religion or being unbaptised, must contract according to the Catholic Form of Matrimony.

MARRIAGE OF NON-CATHOLICS

Non-Catholics whether baptised or not baptised, when they contract marriage between themselves, are not bound to the Catholic Form of Matrimony and therefore their marriages may be valid. But if someone who was baptised a Catholic but has been brought up as a non-Catholic, or without any religion, wishes to enter into the state of matrimony, he or she is bound to the Catholic Form of Matrimony.

CONSENT

Nobody will disagree with the statement that the consent of the parties at the time they enter into the contract of matrimony should be given freely. The Church recognises that, in a certain small number of cases, that consent may be forced but she will not accept that the consent has been defective, unless it be proved, beyond any doubt, that the party who expressed consent at the time was forced by grave external violence or persuasion to such an extent that he or she saw no way out of their predicament except by entering into the contract.

CONDITIONAL CONSENT

Sometimes one of the parties will make his or her consent conditional. If the condition concerns the future and if it is necessary, for example, that ‘I will marry you if the sun should rise tomorrow,’ or if it is impossible or immoral, so long as it is not contrary to the substance of matrimony, the Church regards such a condition as not having been made seriously, and therefore it is non-existent so far as the contract is concerned. If, on the other hand, the condition concerns the future and is contrary to the substance of marriage, then there is no free contract of marriage, and in fact, therefore, the supposed contract is invalid. If, for example, someone were to enter into marriage conditioning his consent to a period of years only, for example, ‘I will marry you for ten years’ or ‘I will marry you only on the definite condition that if it does not work we will have a divorce’-such conditions affect the very substance of marriage. They mean that the individual in uttering his consent is not consenting to a permanent, indissoluble union with his partner and therefore is not in fact entering into a valid or real marriage contract. A vague notion that divorce is a possible escape is not invalidating: it must be a positive act of the will at the time the consent is given. Sometimes, however, a condition may be made as to the future that will not affect the validity of the contract but merely suspend it. For example, if someone were to enter into the contract of matrimony virtually or actually stating ‘I will marry you provided you become a Catholic within 6 months,’ the marriage is suspended until such time as that condition precedent to the contract is fulfilled. If two parties entered into marriage with the definite condition that they would never have normal intercourse but would always practice contraceptive intercourse, such a condition might completely invalidate the contract. This is because although they are not bound to have intercourse in matrimony, unless one or other desires to exercise the right, nevertheless, it is contrary to the substance, to the very idea, the very purpose of matrimony, that they should make a condition whereby they would positively exclude the right to normal intercourse and would only perform acts in themselves gravely sinful, which would thwart the purpose of the marriage act.

ERROR

If a person enters into the contract of matrimony in a state of error regarding the other partner to the contract, there will be no true marriage contract. For example, if X who is a blind man believes that he is marrying Mary and in fact Mary has been substituted by her sister Jane, then, even if he would have been willing to marry Jane, there is no contract of matrimony, because at the time of entering into it he consented to marry Mary. His offer to interchange marital rights was directed to Mary who, in fact, has not replied. And the reply of Jane has nothing whatever to do with the offer. An error, however, might be merely an error of quality. He might, for example, believe that the other party possessed certain qualities, physical or otherwise, which in fact, that party did not possess. Sach an error does not alter the fact that in the actual interchange of rights, that is, in the actual contract, he intends to marry this other person and his error about that person is not an error as to the identity of that person, but merely as to a particular quality. Even, therefore, if he would not have married the person had he known that they did not possess that quality, the contract is valid.

If, on the other hand, the error with regard to the quality of the other person really amounts to an error as to that person’s identity, in such a case there would be no true marriage contract. But if the error concerns something which was made an absolute condition of the consent, for example, if he says ‘I will marry you provided you have £10,000 dowry and not otherwise,’ in such a case, if the other party should not possess that dowry, the contract is invalid because the condition was made absolutely.

DISSOLUTION OF THE BOND OF MATRIMONY

Dissolution of the bond of matrimony is not possible in the case of any sacramental marriage which has been consummated, that is to say, in which the parties have already performed the marital act. No human power can, dissolve the bond of such a marriage. In certain rare circumstances, however, the bond of a non-consummated marriage between baptised persons or when one party is baptised and the other not baptised, may be dissolved by the Apostolic See at the request of either or both parties, even if the other party be unwilling. It is also dissolved by solemn religious profession of one of the parties, but as the bond of matrimony is an impediment to entering into religion, in these days this latter dissolution is very rare.

THE PAULINE PRIVILEGE

St Paul, teaching by divine authority, announced certain circumstances in which the bond of a natural nonsacramental marriage might be dissolved. This dissolution is called ‘Dissolution by the Pauline Privilege.’ Two nonCatholics, that is two persons who have not been baptised validly, are married and one of them becomes a Christian and the other refuses to co-habit or live peacefully with him or her, or to live with the Christian party without obstructing his or her practice of the Christian Faith, then the Christian party may be granted permission to proceed to a new marriage with another Christian and at the time of the contract of the new marriage, the bond, the natural bond, of the old marriage, is dissolved.

ANNULMENTS

It is sometimes stated that a particular marriage has been annulled. The statement is not strictly accurate. It should be phrased, that a particular marriage has been declared null. It will happen in a small percentage of cases that despite all the legislation designed to prevent those who are not capable of contracting a valid marriage from doing so, and to secure that at the actual time of the contract all the formalities essential for its validity will be complied with, will have broken down. And therefore whether the parties believe themselves validly married or not, they are in fact not married. It is very important to realise quite clearly that if two persons enter into a contract which is invalid, there is in fact no contract, and since there is no contract of matrimony in such a case, even though subsequently to that attempted contract they should live as a married couple for many years and perhaps have several children, they have not been married initially and therefore they have never lived in the state of matrimony. In some cases this is not their fault and they may not become aware of the original defect in their marriage; in others it is by their own defect.

Now, if the marriage did not exist, it is not open to the parties themselves to declare it officially, but the Church has her special rules to determine the facts in the first instance and then, if the invalidity be proved, to issue a decree of nullity; that is to say, that the Church first investigates the facts, and on it being proved and established to her satisfaction that there was in fact no true contract of matrimony, she then declares so officially. This is called a declaration of nullity. In certain circumstances this can be granted by the Bishop of the Diocese, where the case is comparatively simple and admits of certain proof from documents which cannot be challenged. In other cases a full Court procedure will be required. The unsupported statements of one or both parties are not ordinarily accepted: the facts must be proved by an examination of witnesses. This means that frequently persons, who are quite sure of their statements, may yet be unable to prove them. If the case is one which goes to the diocesan court it will be tried before three ecclesiastical judges, and there is an official of the court known as the Defender of the Bond whose duty it is to try and uphold the marriage until the facts prove that it was in fact not validly contracted. If the first court finds that the marriage was in fact invalid, it is his duty to appeal to a higher court, the Court of Second Instance or the Appeal Court, where the case is again tried and where there is another Defender of the Bond, who, in turn, if he should have any doubt about the finding of the court, may appeal further up. Some cases go directly to the Sacred Roman Rota which is the High Court of the Church. Others go there on appeal from a diocesan or a metropolitan court. The number of such cases is not very great, for example, the cases reaching the Rota from all over the world in 1955 totalled 237 and a declaration of nullity was given in 97. In 1956 there were 257 cases and a declaration of nullity issued in respect of 115 of them. It will be seen therefore that substantially less than half such cases succeed. the facts in such cases have to be proved up to the hilt, and, of course, if the parties in fact have committed perjury or the principal witnesses have done so, the Church has no means of determining this, but the decree in such a case is of no value to the conscience of the parties themselves, if they are aware of the perjury.

We are often asked whether nullity petitions and trials in the Ecclesiastical Courts cost as much or more than such cases in the Civil Courts, and whether there is provision for poor applicants who might be unable to pay the usual fees. The answer is quite simply that such cases in the Courts of the Church cost only a fraction of their costs in the Civil Courts and that there is ample provision made for those whose means do not allow them to pay the usual fees.

CONVALIDATION

Sometimes when a contract of matrimony was invalid by reason of a particular diriment impediment, that impediment has ceased to exist or perhaps has been dispensed. In such a case what is called a convalidation of the marriage can be granted on application to the proper ecclesiastical authorities. A convalidation renders the marriage, which up till that time was invalid, and therefore not a real marriage at all, a true marriage. The parties should renew their consent. There are certain circumstances in which this is not necessary but the general rule is as stated. A different form of convalidation is called Sanatio in Radice, that is to say, that the marriage is put right from the very beginning. In other words, by a fiction of law the source of the invalidity is removed, retrospectively. The defect in the marriage is deemed to have been healed from the time of the original contract as regards its effects, though in fact, the real marriage begins at the time of the grant of the sanation or declaration. This means, of course, that if there are children of the marriage already in existence they will be deemed to have been born legitimately, and this perhaps is one of the most valuable results of this retrospective healing. Marriages which are invalid from defective consent, defect of form and certain diriment impediments can all be healed in this way. A Sanatio in Radice can be granted only by the Apostolic See. It requires a grave reason for validity. The petition for such a declaration may be made by either party to the marriage or even by a third party without their knowledge.

PROCEDURE

Persons who have reason to believe that there has been some defect in their original marriage, either that perhaps it was contracted outside the Church, that is with defect of form, or that there was some diriment impediment which was unknown or concealed at the time, or for some other reason, should make their case known to their parish priest who will generally be able to advise them as to whether their case is in fact verifiable in law or whether they may perhaps be labouring under a misapprehension as to the true position of their state.

It is the practice and the wish of the Church that in every case where one or other of the parties to an invalid marriage seeks its annulment, that every effort should first be made to secure from them a reconciliation, that is to persuade them, if possible, that it would be better for them to convalidate their marriage, if that is possible. There are, of course, certain circumstances in which marriages have to be denounced as invalid and where there is no possibility of convalidating them, whether because of a diriment impediment of the divine law or for some other reason such as the protection of the faith of one of the partners.

LEGAL SEPARATION

Married persons are bound to live together unless a just cause excuses them from doing so. In certain circumstances, however, notably in adultery which has not been condoned, the Church may grant what is called a judicial separation and allow the parties to live separately. This permission does not dissolve their marriage and they remain bound by the marriage as long as both live and may not contract another marriage.

BETROTHALS

The Church only recognises promises of matrimony or betrothals when they are made in writing, signed by the parties and witnessed either by the parish priest or the bishop, or at least by two witnesses. If either of the parties is unable to write she requires the additional testification of a third witness. This is the only promise she recognises. She does not recognise any action for fulfilment arising out of this promise, but where damage can be shown to have occurred to one of the parties, she recognises that the person, who is put at the disadvantage, has a right to be indemnified for the damage so caused.

PUBLICITY

Catholics ought to beware of publicity regarding marriage cases. In the first place they must not easily take scandal if they read in the newspapers that certain persons known to be Catholics are seeking a civil divorce. It is quite certain that to seek a civil divorce in the ordinary way is wrong and gravely sinful, but in some circumstances, as where a marriage is evidently invalid in the sight of God, the Church may advise the parties to free themselves from the disabilities that they have incurred in civil law by the original contract, and therefore will permit them to proceed to a civil divorce for that purpose.

It is the practice of the sensational press today to seize on matrimonial cases in which the parties are persons prominent in the social, ‘theatrical or political world and to give them as much publicity as possible. Annulments, that is to say, declarations of nullity, granted by the Sacred Roman Rota or other tribunals of the Church are no exception to this rule. Unfortunately the persons reporting them are very often not skilled in Canon Law and have only an inadequate and partial knowledge of the procedure that they report. The reports therefore are very often misleading; not that it is the intention of the reporters to mislead, but simply by reason of their lack of experience in this particular branch of law.

It may be illustrative if we quote two cases, that received much publicity some years ago. The first case is the Marconi-O’Brien case. William Marconi, who had been baptised in the Catholic Church but had been brought up as an Anglican, married Beatrice O’Brien, an Episcopalian, before a minister of that church in London. They obtained a civil divorce some 19 years later. The case was brought before the Diocesan Court of Westminster and the marriage was declared null because of the positive exclusion of a perpetual union. It was proved conclusively before the court that, at the time of entering into the marriage contract, Marconi inserted an absolute condition to his consent that he would not resist any attempt on the part of his partner to seek a divorce, if the marriage should not work out well. The Defender of the Bond, of course, appealed to the Roman Rota and there the findings of the court of the first instance in Westminster were confirmed and it was stated or declared that there never had been a marriage. In other words, a decree of nullity was issued stating that the marriage contract had been void from the beginning. *

An even more famous case was the Vanderbilt-Marlborough case. Consuela Vanderbilt, a girl of 17, who was actually in love with a young American, found herself in the position that her mother had selected the Duke of Marlborough to marry her. Her mother brought great pressure upon her, threatening her and even having her locked and guarded in her room. The engagement was announced without her knowledge and she was forced into the marriage, believing at the time that if she did not marry him she would be undutiful to her mother, that she would cause her mother grave ill-health and perhaps kill her. Other evidence was given that she had not consented except because she saw no other way out of her difficulties, except by marrying the Duke, and she even told him within 20 days of the marriage that she had married him only at the instance of her mother, and that she had not found herself free to do anything else. The marriage was dissolved in the civil courts and finally both parties married again. Some years later she learned that her marriage could be declared null and that her consent at the time had not been that free consent which is necessary for so important a contract as that of matrimony. There was no evidence that she had ever consented at a later date and therefore it was declared that her marriage was null. The fact that she later had children does not affect the original contract. As we have already stated, it is the consent at the time of the contract that determines whether that contract should be valid or not and not what happens afterwards. Of course, she could have provided at a later date the free and necessary consent to the union. In fact, she had not done so. As these facts were established to the satisfaction of the courts concerned, they had no alternative but to declare that there never had been a true contract of matrimony in this case.

Let us conclude with a quotation from the encyclical of Pius XI Casti Connubii:

The dignity of chaste wedlock will be best appreciated if we consider that when Christ Our Lord, the Son of the Eternal Father, assumed the nature of fallen man He was not content with giving a special place to marriage in the loving plan by which He completely restored our race; He did more: having re-established it in the perfection in which it had been originally instituted by God, He raised it to the rank of a true and great Sacrament of the New Law, and accordingly entrusted the entire regulation and care of it to His Bride, the Church.

*Before 1st January 1949 baptised Catholics who had been brought up as non-Catholics were not bound to the Catholic form of marriage when they contracted with a non-Catholic party.

Matt Talbot

BY EILY MACADAM

INDEX

Since this booklet was first published, the fame of Matt Talbot, humble Dublin workman, has continued to spread far and wide. The crowds who visit the simple room in Rutland Street in which he lived for the last twenty-five years of his life, continue to grow and his vault in Glasnevin is a place of constant pilgrimage.

This is not the grave in which, in 1925, the body of an obscure Dublin workman was laid. That humble grave attracted many who heard of the holy life of Matt Talbot and came to seek his intercession.

Then, in 1952, with due ceremony, as part of the Apostolic Process in the Cause, the body was exhumed and laid in the O’Connell Circle, in a vault known as the Gentili Tomb, from the fact that the great Italian missioner of the Famine times, Fr. Aloysius Gentili, was buried there until the Fathers of Charity took the body to the mother-house in Omeath.

It is to the Gentili vault that the fervent pilgrims now make their way to seek Matt Talbot’s prayers and to pray that, if it is God’s will, the divine seal of miracle may be set on the Cause of the Servant of God.

Even in his life time, there were people who set great value on the prayers of the hardworking poor man, whose real work only became known to most people when Sir Joseph Glynn, (R.I.P.) heard the story of the charities and the fasts of the man who had collapsed and died in a city street-as many a worn-out old person has done before-and decided to write the life of Matt Talbot. The publication aroused great interest, which has never flagged.

WILL IT BE OURS TO SEE THE CHURCH GRATIFY THE WISHES OF MANY BY DECLARING BLESSED THE HUMBLE WORKER?

We know so little. We go down the stream of days so quickly to the end that is the beginning. Yet we are wise to try to know something of ourselves and our fellow-travellers as we go. There may be something to be learned that way, if we manager our voyage always with the end in view. That is not easy. It helps if we can observe the doing of it by another, especially if that other has met contrary winds and come through perils. We can follow and observe, notice how he steered by the stars God has hung out for our guidance, how he used every forwarding wave and evaded rocks and quicksands.

We will follow Matt Talbot because we think his voyage ended happily on the shore to which he steered. We are perhaps not such sturdy mariners but we can realise how hard the struggle was and learn what courage and a fatiguewatching of the Eternal Stars can accomplish.

The story of this voyage?-A simple story.

At Aldborough Court, off the North Circular Road, n Dublin, a son was born in 1856 to Charles Talbot and his wife Elizabeth (neé Bagnal). Both were Dublin people, Charles Talbot working as foreman in charge of bonded stores for the Port and Docks Board. His father and his grandfather had held the same position, and Charles Talbot had a pride in his job and in his family and in his Church. Both he and the girl he married were Confraternity members at Gardiner Street Jesuit Church. The son, who was born on May 2nd, 1856, was baptised at the Pro-Cathedral in Marlborough Street and given the name Matthew. That name was to be uttered in a mother’s anguished prayers and later was to have a glow around it, be written in many languages and go to Rome as that of a candidate for sainthood.

But the pious young mother knew nothing of all these things when she held her baby in her arms. She began to find him a bit of a handful when schooldays came and he and a younger brother-two of a total family of twelve-made it their chief study to escape when she led them to school at North Richmond Street. Well, the best of boys don’t love school but, alas, Matt was not to be the best of boys to that mother of his. Schooldays over-he was twelve-and-a-half-his father found him a job as messenger with a firm of wine merchants. It was probably a happy day in the Talbot home when Matt got his first job. It is not easy to keep a big family on thirty shillings a week, which was Charles Talbot’s wage. It was probably difficult even in that older Dublin. Matt was to live on into the more modern Dublin and ultimately to earn twice his father’s wages, but we shall come to those days.

Meanwhile we picture Matt as a boy carrying his basket to this house and that, learning to know his Dublin-a fact those people forget who write of him as if he saw no more of the city than lay within the compass of his walks from home to work and to church that were the limit of his travels in later days when the world had ceased to matter.

It is Matt Talbot’s value that he lived in an Irish city of today, met the sort of people we all meet, saw what we see. To picture him otherwise is to remove him from us when we need him near at hand. Did he ever note the passing of the seasons?-some writers ask the question and note that he saw nature’s glories only dimly in the city streets. Did these same writers ever see the springtime come to Mountjoy Square?; ever see golden sunshine shaft between tall Georgian houses?; ever see the Custom House with snow on it and the river heavy with snow? Leave us, please, one touch of nature that makes us kin. On the last day of Matt Talbot’s life he probably crossed Mountjoy Square on his way to meet death in Granby Lane. It was June that morning. Was the sun shining golden on the wide peace of the Square as he went- slowly-for he had been ill and he was old and wore that heavy penitential chain about his waist and the lesser ones on his legs and arms. He had the kindly words of a neighbour in his ears, for a friend had spoken to him as he left the house, telling him he should not go out till he was rested a bit. That fact too holds the precious value of kinship with us. So might a kindly neighbour speak to any of us.

But we have been carried away from our story. We were to follow Matt Talbot as he went his way through life. We had, however, first to make sure we were not going to lose him in the cold mists of an inhuman aloofness. Now, having as it were, fallen into step again let us return to the lad in his first job and the first touch of tragedy. Young Matt, in the course of his work at the wine merchants, assisted at bottling stout. Somehow Matt began to taste the stout and he liked it apparently. One night he was not sober when he came home to that good mother and the upright father. He was caned, removed from the job and a position found for him in the bonded stores of which his father had charge. It was soon evident that Matt was going to be a heartbreak. He began to drink whiskey and his poor father had the terrible knowledge that somehow that whiskey was coming out of the stores of which he was in charge. More canings followed. Matt got himself a new job, after four years in which his father had tried every means to keep him straight. Matt became a bricklayer’s labourer. He was now seventeen and for several years he worked for different building contractors, and ultimately got a permanent job with Messrs. T. & C. Martin at the North Wall where for the rest of his life he worked loading carts, unloading timber, etc., until ultimately he became storekeeper.

The wages of the seventeen-year-old boy would have been very useful in the home but they never got so far. He was a good worker, never late, but he drank what he earned. He had no other vices, no, not a trace. The friends who told so frankly to his biographers all this story of his degradation were one and all unanimous that drink was his only failing. In drink the real man shows. Matt was never quarrelsome, never objectionable. He was simply wasting his life, working for money to drink and then home stupidly to bed. Poor Elizabeth Talbot, she must have suffered watching her son, and seeing too with added horror the younger boys follow in his footsteps.

Once Matt came home in his socks. He had sold his boots for drink. One week, too, the good workman in him failed. He stayed away from work. Payday came but there was no pay for Matt. That was bad, because he wanted a drink. Often before he had been without a drink and had pledged his spare clothes to get one. There had been a merry evening too, once upon a time, when a fiddler had been of the drinking company and when funds ran short Matt and his pals had thought it the cream of the joke to pawn the fiddle and drink the proceeds, leaving the fiddler minus his means of livelihood. However on this particular payday when there was no pay Matt wasn’t worrying. He dressed himself and with a younger brother stood at a corner where the men coming out from the timber-yard would pass. Picture him there, a slight young man, neat and clean without being well-dressed, a young man who had spent many an evening and shilling with his pals and was counting on being included today even though he had no money. The men came out. One after another they passed. They greeted the brothers. That was all.

“I’m going home,” said Matt.

“It’s too early,” said his brother.

He went home that day. His mother greeted him with a remark about his early return. “And you’re sober,” she added. He said nothing but when he had eaten his dinner he dressed himself. He was going to take the pledge, he said. We know nothing of what was working in his soul that day. With a gentle smile his mother bade him be sure he meant to keep it before he took it. He went out, up to Holy Cross College, Clonliffe Road, made the first Confession in three years and took the pledge for three months. He was not very sure of himself. He was twenty-eight now. He had been drinking for fifteen years, lost to all else. It was going to be hard. It was. But now we see strange things happening. On Monday morning Matt Talbot is at 5 o’clock Mass and every morning after and the Church becomes his evening refuge to keep the enemy at bay. Oh, it was hard. “It’s no use, mother,” he said. “When the three months are up I’ll drink again.”

He was wrong. He never drank again. There is no further need to apologise for Matt Talbot. He is only twenty-eight. What remains of his youth is to be given to God and he is to soar beyond our following. But remember he is still young, still working in the timber-yard, still meeting the same work-mates, passing the public houses where they used to be merry. He remembers the one in which they seized the fiddle. In later years he searches Dublin for that fiddler to make restitution. He never finds him, but he offers Masses and prayers for the man who had been wronged.

If we let ourselves forget that Matt Talbot was young when he entered on his fight we miss the thrill of it. Old men pray more easily. The body is less fond of activity, more biddable. Matt had to fight and pray for forty years. It became easier because his first prayers were for the gift of prayer and it was later given him. How logical was this unlearned man who had left school at twelve-and-a-half. Prayer could save him but he could not pray, so he asked for the gift of prayer. How logical too in his subduing of the body that had led him astray with its craving for drink. It was to be severely disciplined indeed until it became the eager servant of the soul, no longer dragging against the spirit but one with it in the service of God. That is surely how we see this man as he was in the later years of his life, so far as our human eyes can see. He fought. We think he won.

It was apparently one of Matt’s sorrows that he had been a bad example to his brothers, and he spoke to them, trying to reclaim them. That was not like Matt, for he had no wish to set himself up as a paragon, even in the later years when he must have been very close to God. But he felt responsible for his brothers probably to some extent. They, it seems, would not listen, and Matt, possibly because it hurt to see them as he had once been, took a room and went to live in Gloucester Street, a drab Street that is not brighter for being re-named Sean MacDermott Street-not so far as the eye perceives-but possibly it helps, for there are dreamers even in drab streets, and lame Sean MacDermott went very happily to face the firing squad on that May morning in 1916. In that drab street that did not then bear the patriot name, Matt Talbot found that necessity of the saints, quiet. He lived alone, a sister coming in to prepare his food and tidy up. From that time forward he was always to live alone, except for the last sixteen years of his mother’s life. His father died in 1899 when Matt was forty-three, and, dutifully, he gave his mother a home. That was when he lived at 18 Upper Rutland Street, to which he removed from Gloucester Street and in which he resided for the last twenty-five years of his life. He need not have lived alone. He was, from the day he stopped drinking, a steady man, in constant work, a neat, if shabby man, well enough looking, with fine eyes. There are plenty of good girls who would be glad of such a husband. Matt indeed met one of them. Those who related the story, as was proper, never told her name, but she was employed as a cook in a house to which Matt and other workmen were sent to carry out some repairs. She liked Matt, appreciated his quiet ways, and that she trusted him is evident from the fact that she told him of her liking and suggested marriage. She had money saved, she told him. We are grateful for that story. It gives us Matt as a woman saw him when he was still a vigorous man. It enshrines a picture of a shy man, a trustworthy man. Gravely Matt promised to consider the matter, and one can believe she accepted his answer with dignity. He had prayed, he told her, and he was not to marry. But her entrance had its value for us. Matt was not to marry. Nothing was to disturb the mode of life he had now settled, into. He was to continue the daily round of prayer and fasting, the austere days empty of comfort for body, filled with prayer, each day practically alike outwardly, but what of inward glory they brought is not known to us. Matt talked little of that life of his.

Let us, however, watch him live a day of it. We will begin when he knocks off work. There were twenty-four hours in Matt’s day. In the timber-yard the whistle blows. Hastily Matt rushes to the little shed where he kept a change of clothes. He doffs his working garb quickly. He has an appointment with One whom he respects. He shows his respect. Out of the yard he goes and straight to the nearby Church of St. Laurence O’Toole to pray. Then home to 18 Upper Rutland Street, taking, probably the short cuts through very drab streets indeed. His sister has cocoa prepared and perhaps a bit of fish, but if it is one of Matt’s fasting times he takes nothing but cocoa and dry bread. That has already been his breakfast and his lunch. He does not go straight to table as a hungry man does. He goes on his knees, having first removed his jacket and had a wash. He prays and then, still kneeling, eats his meal. His sister leaves. He is alone, yet not alone. In prayer he converses with God. In books he shares the thoughts of the saints. For Matt, uneducated though he is, reads books that would deter many a widely-read person. He prays for light to understand what he reads and on scraps of papers or in notebooks he roughly notes the things that strike him, writing them in schoolboy hand, in schoolboy spelling. They are a revelation to us of a mind in tune with the deeply spiritual. “In meditation, the mind labours, operating with its power, but in contemplation it is God Himself Who operates and the soul merely receives the infused gifts.”

Did he recognise in those words a stage to which he had attained?

And other words are written too-words that are the workingman’s reassurance of his place in the scheme of things. Nobody, he notes, has the right to starve the poor. We know he sought assurance of the justice of the workers’ fight in 1913 against a terrible display of the employers’ determination to break Trade Unionism. He got the assurance from a Jesuit priest. Thereafter he was not troubled by any doubt on that score.

On another scrap of paper he writes words setting forth that true nobility derives from the Blood of Christ.

How much of justice, of dignity, was in the mind that chose these things to make note of. His reading comprised Newman, Faber, St. Francis de Sales, St. Alphonsus Liguori and many other religious writers whose names convey nothing to the ordinary person. Many books he bought himself. His store was great. But he borrowed a lot also, so we do not really know the extent of his reading. That he always had friends who understood him is evident from the fact of those borrowings, and some of them have told of conversations in that humble room in which time passed on enchanted wings while the poor unlettered man spoke of God. Yet on the whole he talked little. He told an old friend of some of his early struggles of the first days of reform. He told of those days when he could not pray and of a Sunday morning when the demon of despair would not allow him to approach the altar but drove him out of Berkeley Road Church, out of Gardiner Street Church, to wander for three hours crazy with despair, and how at last he flung himself on the steps of Gardiner Street Church, with arms outstretched, caring nothing for people who stared. Peace came then and he went to receive his God. To people who forget that the mind is as real as the body the tragedy of that story will not be apparent, but tragic it is.

Every night at 10.30 Matt went to bed to his plank couch with the wooden pillow and single blanket. He rose again at 2.30. He prayed ti114 o’clock. Then he lay down again until it was time to prepare for 5 o’clock Mass. In later years Mass was changed to 6.15 but Matt still went to Gardiner Street at 5 A.M., kneeling on the Church or Convent steps till the door was opened. Then he went in and, kneeling perfectly upright and unsupported, heard Mass and received Holy Communion. After his thanksgiving he went home to his cocoa and then on to work, leaving a margin of time that he might visit St. Laurence O’Toole’s on the way. He worked all day, and when there was an interval between loads he went into his shed to pray. If irreverent words were used he blessed himself, and if religion came up for discussion, or any part of Christian duty, he took a fearless stand. If the topic happened, he told stories of the saints, but he never made himself conspicuous as a champion of good. Two pins carelessly crossed on his sleeve were a reminder of days when his tongue was loose and he spoke sacred names without reverence. The pins were inconspicuous too- stuck there as if for use. Some of the men respected Matt’s horror of bad language. Others delighted to shock him. Matt simply stole away to recite the Divine Praises. He never wore his heart on his sleeve. He apparently had no particular spiritual director. A Jesuit is said to have known most of him, but he died before Matt, and though the latter was a Franciscan Tertiary and member of several Confraternities in Gardiner Street and St. Saviour’s, Dominick Street, he never drew any notice to himself. His charities were endless. His wages rose as the years passed till at last he had £3–1-6 per week. He spent the barest minimum on himself, the rest went to charity, always quietly, usually anonymously.

The Missions were his pet charity; to spread the word of God most important of all works. So he moved through life, shabbily dressed, fasting, praying. He kept black fast every day in Lent, every day in June, in honour of the Sacred Heart, and other times. Nine months of his year was a fast time. He wore his chains, he slit the knees of his trousers lengthwise, so that it would not show, in order to kneel bare-kneed on the Church steps at morning.

Most wonderful of all. He kept it up, day in, day out, all the years. Sunday was his great day, and his joy was to attend every possible Mass, returning home only when he had received the Benediction after twelve o’clock Mass. Then he ate the first meal of the day, the eternal cocoa.

For sixteen years Elizabeth Talbot, widow, watched the manner of life of this son who had once been her cross. She woke at night sometimes in her bed in the corner of that humble room and fingering her beads watched quietly as Matt prayed, his arms outspread. At those times she saw his face filled with a light that made it other than the face she knew. She was not talkative, this pious woman. Few knew what went on in that poor room. Only the sisters, Susan and Mary (Mrs. Fylan and Mrs. Andrews) knew how their brother lived, and they, one gathers, were somewhat in awe of him.

In 1915 Mrs. Talbot died, and here is a point worthy of notice. She was, as has been said, a member of a Confraternity in the Jesuit Church; that of the Immaculate Heart of Mary. After her death the spiritual director spoke to the members of her life, quoting it as exemplary. There is pleasure in the thought.

Matt Talbot was to live alone once more, still carrying out his fixed programme of fasts and prayer, still distrustful of that body that had led him into drunkenness, still finding all his joy in God. Nineteen-sixteen came, Easter Week; while men fought, others looted, there was turmoil; the world of Dublin was upside down. But God does not change. A quiet figure made its way from Rutland Street to Dominick Street or Gardiner Street, caring little for military barricades. The same figure made its way to work and to Mass through all the alarms from 1918 to 1923. But the time was coming when the chain-laden body was to grow feeble, not perhaps because of its chains or its privations, but because man is mortal. The plank bed and the wooden pillow had led to partial deafness and one side of his face had become numb, when in 1923 he became ill and was admitted to the Mater Hospital in Eccles Street. He removed his chains before he went there. He had no wish to call attention to his fight with himself. He was very ill indeed and three days after admission received the Last Sacraments. His via dolorosa was not yet to end, however, for he recovered sufficiently to be allowed out of bed. At once he went to the chapel, there to spend all the time available in thanking God that he was spared to suffer more. In the hospital he never asked for any particular attention. When the priest came to give Holy Communion he received it, but he asked for no privileges-he whose life was the Sacrament of the Altar. No doubt, too, he accepted hospital diet without a word of his fasts, because even when in good health he took whatever was offered in the house of another, not caring to draw attention to himself. To eat what was given then became a sort of discipline in itself. Matt, in fact, was one of those gentlemen the working people of Dublin often produce. Are they producing less? You, young man, who possibly had a worthy father, where did you learn those words you use at the street-corner? And, child with the blue innocent eyes, who put on your lips those words that denote things too awful for you to realise? Alas, alas, fellowcitizens of Matt Talbot’s city, you bring horror into his streets. But the worthy citizens are there too-young and old. May all, worthy and unworthy, think at times of the quiet figure who kept his eyes to himself and possibly his ears as he went one June morning to keep a tryst with death. He had already heard Mass that Sunday morning and received Holy Communion, but, beingnow old and ill, he could no longer fast till 2 o’clock. He had therefore gone home to have his cocoa and had come out again at nine o’clock to attend further Masses. In Granby Lane, within sight of the Dominican Church of St. Saviour, he fell to the ground. When people ran to assist him he was dead.

It is not a very unusual occurrence in cities, but the people were of course full of pity for the poor old fellow. A Corporation ambulance came and the body of an old man was taken to the mortuary of Jervis Street Hospital. There the Sisters of Mercy are in charge at the mortuary, and where nuns are, there is respect for every temple of the Holy Ghost whatever its condition. The poor clothes made no difference. A nun, Sister Ignatius, prepared the body for burial. As she cut off the poor clothes of this man who had no wish for better, and who was identified as Matthew Talbot, her scissors encountered a hard substance. Cause for wonder; the chains were exposed. Poor Matt, his secret was out-in the designs of God. A heavy rosary around the neck and medal attached to the chains spoke of some holy motive. Wisely the nun and her assistants decided that a statement of what they had found should be prepared and signed by two of them. It was done. The chains had worn into the flesh. The body was scrupulously clean. Reverently the last offices were done and three days later the funeral left Gardiner Street Church for Glasnevin.

The end had come. But it was the beginning. People had been silent out of deference to Matt’s desire to be unknown. One of his friends, a man who had known him for a quarter of a century, happened to speak to Sir Joseph Glynn of the dead man. Sir Joseph was interested and became more so as the story unfolded. Matt Talbot’s friend suggested that this workman’s life, if written, might be productive of good. Sir Joseph Glynn wrote it, interviewing Matt’s surviving sister and many of his workmates. The simple story was written and since then, we, of the scribbling fraternity, have been interested, seeking new facts, striving to catch the full value of that life lived so humbly, so austerely. Now the scope of interest has widened. The great Catholic Church is thinking of that hidden life. Rome has heard of Matt Talbot and prayers go daily to heaven asking that if it be God’s Will Matt should one day wear the crown of sainthood. The most fervent of prayers go up front that room in 18 Rutland Street where visitors from many parts call to kneel before the crucifix there and pray that God may give this glory to the Irish working men, the glory of having produced a saint, and that, at least, we may all profit from the lesson he preached in his sixty-nine years of life, the lesson that to fall is human, to rise again a thing of divine grace, given only to those who strive and watch and pray.

Few of us may attain to the heights that Matt attained, but we can try to walk near him and watch his homely face grow radiant as his mother saw it when he spoke to God. It will be radiant surely if that day comes when Mother Church hails her humble son as Blessed.

In 1931, the Ordinary or Informative Process was begun by Most Rev. Dr. Byrne, the then Archbishop of Dublin, when witnesses, who had known Matt Talbot were questioned, on oath, on all relevant matters.

In 1937, Rome having meantime examined the evidence tendered, a Papal Decree was signed formally introducing the Cause of Matt Talbot.

Ten years later, in 1947, His Holiness the Pope signed the Latin Decree announcing that the Cause had been officially opened by the Sacred Congregation of Rites.

In 1948 followed the next step, the opening of the Apostolic Process in Dublin and the examination, on oath, of forty witnesses. This evidence was also sent to Rome.

In 1952, as part of the Apostolic Process, the remains were exhumed, in the presence of His Grace the Archbishop and many distinguished people and then sealed in a special double coffin and re-interred in the Gentili Vault in Glasnevin Cemetery.

Now it remains for those many who desire to see Matt Talbot honoured by the Church to pray that Rome may declare him”of heroic virtue” and that God may grant miracles through his intercession. Let us pray.

PRAYER

O Jesus, true friend of the humble worker, Thou hast given us in Thy servant, Matthew, a wonderful example of victory over vice, a model of penance and of love for Thy Holy Eucharist, grant, we beseech Thee, that we, Thy servants, may overcome all our wicked passions and sanctify our lives with penance and love like his.

And if it be in accordance with Thy adorable designs that Thy pious servant should be glorified by the Church, deign to manifest by Thy heavenly favours the power he enjoys in Thy sight, who livest and reignest for ever and ever. Amen.

(THE ABOVE PRAYER, ISSUED AND APPROVED BY THE ARCHBISHOP OF DUBLIN, CARRIES WITH IT AN INDULGENCE OF 100 DAYS FOR EACH TIME RECITED.)

PROTESTATION

In obedience to the decree of Pope Urban VIII, the writer and publishers protest that all that is written in this book has no other authority or credit than such as is grounded on human evidence. Hence no expression or statement is intended to assume or forestall the decision of the Church.

Nihil Obstat:

Domnallus O’Lehane.

Imprimatur:

@ JACOBUS JOSEPH,

Episcopus Ardachadinn et Cluanennis.

********

Matthew, Mark, Luke, John

WERE THEY FOOLED?-DID THEY LIE?

MARTIN J. SCOTT, S.J

INDEX

You say that if the Gospels were true no one could help being a Christian. Do I understand that to be your meaning?

Yes, for I hold that the things recorded in the Gospels, if true, would leave no room for doubting the Divinity of Jesus Christ.

What is your reason for not believing that the Gospels are true?

For the simple reason that if the Gospels were true, everybody would be glad to acknowledge them as true, for everybody would be glad to have God’s word for what .he should believe and do.

From what you say, I think we should consider a few fundamental matters before we come to the direct and definite proof of the truth of the Gospels. You state that because there are many who do not believe in the Gospels it is an argument against the truth of the Gospels. Numbers, however, do not make an argument for the truth of anything. Consider the vast number of people, even learned people, who, until recently, believed in spontaneous generation. Now, however, since Pasteur’s experiments proved the contrary, no one believes in spontaneous generation. You say that no one would hesitate to accept a religion that was Divine, and that consequently no one would reject the Gospels which proclaim a Divine religion, if the Gospels were true. What you say seems plausible, but a little consideration will show that it is fallacious. It is true that no one who is logical and consistent would hesitate to believe in a religion that he knows to be divine. But, unfortunately, everybody is not logical or consistent. People are influenced by various things which interfere with logic and consistency. For instance, everybody wants to have good health, yet although they know it to be a fact that certain drugs and certain immoral habits destroy health and cause dreadful diseases, that does not prevent them from using these drugs or indulging in. these immoral practices. The whole world is strewn with human wrecks, the victims of various nervous disorders resulting from habits and practices which are known to be destructive of health. Knowing is not doing. So, acknowledging that the Gospels are true would not necessarily imply that such acknowledgment would result in living by the Gospel religion. The fact, therefore, that everybody does not practise the religion of Christ is no argument against the truth of the Gospels.

But in such a serious matter as religion, would you not think that people would live in accordance with their belief?

To that, let me say that a person’s health is a serious matter, and if many people, nevertheless, fail to live in accordance with what they know to be the laws of health, we should not be surprised that they do not live in accordance with the true religion. Health concerns our present life; and violation of its precepts brings penalties here and now, yet many ignore its laws. Religion concerns our eternal welfare. Violation of its precepts or the ignoring of its authority are not always penalized in this life. That does not mean, however, that religion can be ignored or defied with impunity.

But what has all this to do with the truth of the Gospels?

It has a great deal to do with it. There is such a thing as wishful thinking, which causes people to believe readily what appeals to their inclinations and pleasure, and to disbelieve whatever restrains, or limits their desires or gratifications. If people could believe the Gospels without the obligation of living by the Gospels, it is safe to say that very few would have doubts about the truth of the Gospels. For it is acknowledged by all classes of people that the Gospels are the most sublime moral teaching of all time. They proclaim the most consoling and beneficial truths ever heard on this earth. But they also declare that the teaching therein is that of God Himself. This teaching obliges man to regulate his life by the will, of God. But man likes to do his own will rather than that of another, so rather than submit his will, he tries to find reasons against the truth of the Gospels.

In acting thus he may not be conscious that he is influenced by the desire to be a law unto himself, but in reality, he gives undue importance to everything that he thinks will justify his rejection of the Gospels. If people would eliminate self-seeking from their consideration of the Gospels they would find little or no objection to accepting them as the Divine teaching which they really are.

Is that not rather severe on the learned men who have spent much time and study on the Gospels, yet refuse to believe them true?

It is a strong statement to make, but, nevertheless, conforms to what most learned scholars have admitted, who spent the greater part of their lives in the endeavour to discredit the Gospels. These men who are considered to be the highest authority on early Christian literature, after a thorough study of everything pertaining to the Gospels, finally admitted that no one with pretence to scholarship could deny their genuineness or authenticity.

Why, then, did they not become Christians?

For the very reason I assigned above, self-seeking, or what is commonly called wishful thinking. These men, not being able to find a flaw in the genuineness or authenticity of the Gospels, instead of accepting them as the Word of God, devised a method of interpreting them which would enable them, as they thought, to avoid accepting them as the Word of God.

May I ask how they managed to accept the Gospels as genuine and authentic yet deny their Divine character which seems to stand out on every page?

Their method was to assert, without proof, however, that the supernatural was impossible, and that consequently everything supernatural in the Gospels should be interpreted as imaginary.

You mean that they regarded the miracles of Christ, even His Resurrection, as fiction of some sort?

Fiction may not be altogether the proper word for it, but it really comes to that.

And why were they not justified in their conclusion?

For the simple reason that Christianity was not founded on imagination. The first Christians did not sacrifice comfort, possessions, liberty and life for fiction. As Saint Augustine says: “The establishment of Christianity without the Resurrection would be a greater miracle than the the Resurrection itself.” The millions of Jews, Greeks and Romans, who worshipped the Crucified as God, and for doing so endured the most dreadful torments of martyrdom, were not so foolish as to suffer and die for a fiction. Those Jews and pagans loved liberty and life as much as ourselves, and they were just as critical as the most wise and learned amongst us, yet they bowed down in Divine worship of a Crucified Jew.

Why is it that all this does not convince Rationalists and others such?

Why is it that the legion of human wrecks caused by vicious practices has not convinced of their danger people who are addicted to such practices? Man wants to do his own will, and in doing so sees a thousand and one reasons to justify his procedure. Itwas for this reason that Jesus, in the Lord’s Prayer, taught us to say to our Heavenly Father: “Thy will be done, on earth as it is in Heaven.” Man is inclined to say: “My will be done,” not: “Thy will be done,” and as a consequence, seeks in every way to find a justification for what he does.

By this do you mean to infer that those who do not believe in the Gospels are, therefore, unrighteous?

By no means. There are various considerations which may influence a person to deny the truth of the Gospels, yet without fault on his part. I am simply trying to show you that, despite the fact that the Gospels are the truest record in the world, there are some people who do not believe in them.

What are the considerations you refer to which, as you say, explain why some persons, without fault on their part, do not believe the Gospels to be true?

There are several reasons to explain the attitude of such persons. Perhaps the most common explanation is the environment of these persons. Suppose, for instance, they live among people who are indifferent to religion or who scoff at religion or who are hostile to religion. In such an atmosphere they imbibe the sentiments of their surroundings and, perhaps, never think of investigating the matter for themselves.

Another explanation is to be found in the vicious attacks made against Christianity by writers who have a reputation for literary excellence but who know little or nothing about philosophy, history or religion, yet dogmatise on these matters, thus leading many astray. One of the worst features of our times is that a person, distinguished in some line, is considered an authority on any and every subject in other entirely different lines. Because a man is a famous surgeon it does not follow that he is an authority on architecture. Yet, many people to-day base their religious views on the statements of writers who are no more competent to speak on religion than is a cobbler to conduct a symphony orchestra.

I suppose you are now referring to those novelists, historians and scientists who, because of their fame, are regarded as authorities on everything in the universe?

Yes. But the worst of it is that, because the views of these persons flatter human pride and often give free rein to human passions, they are eagerly accepted by multitudes who are looking for reasons to justify themselves in being a law to themselves.

But how do you explain the opposition to the Gospels by those learned men who acknowledge that the Gospels are genuine and authentic?

To reply to that, let me first state what is meant by a document being genuine and authentic. A document is genuine if it is just the same as it originally was, that is, if it has not been altered in any way. It is authentic if written at the time and by the persons to whom it is attributed. When Rationalists started to destroy Christianity their first move was to discredit the Gospels, for they knew that the Church of Christ stands or falls with the Gospels. Not that the Church depended on the Gospels for her origin, for she was widely established before the Gospels were written. But since the Church has proclaimed that the Gospels are true, she would cease to be a Divine institution if the Gospels were not true.

You mean, I take it, that if the Church put her seal on the Gospels, and they were not what she declared them to be, she would by that fact show that she was not Divine, because a Divine Church could not proclaim what was false?

Precisely. And so certain opponents of Christianity determined to undermine the Church by discrediting the Gospels. Their first attack was to assert that the Gospels were not genuine, namely, that they were altered in the course of time in order to favour the claims of the Church. As a result of this endeavour, after a most thorough examination of the various historical and antiquarian sources they were finally forced to admit that the Gospels to-day are exactly what they were at the time they were first given to the world. They next asserted that the Gospels were not authentic, that is, that they were not written at the time and by the persons to whom they were ascribed. They contended that the Gospels were written long after the Apostolic Age and by persons other than the Evangelists.

After the most searching investigation, however, they were forced to admit that the Gospels were written at the time and by the authors that the Church claimed.

Well, I should think that ended the matter. Why did not those men admit they were wrong and declare that Christianity was the Divine institution it claimed to be?

Thereby hangs a tale. Wishful thinking again. You see when they failed in their main assault on the Gospels they had recourse to subtle, devious attacks which would, they felt sure, accomplish the purpose of destroying the Church.

In desperation they finally asserted that the Gospels did not mean what they said, but must be interpreted rationally, that is, in accordance with the rationalistic theory that the supernatural was impossible. Hence, the miracles and the claims of Christ in the Gospels were to be interpreted as the enthusiastic expressions of hero worshippers.

Well, what have you to say to that? It certainly sounds plausible.

Very plausible. But it does not explain why the Apostles and Evangelists and the early Christians believed in the Resurrection as a fact, and sealed their belief by their blood. Certainly, the Jews who were the first converts to Christianity were as critical and intelligent as the twentieth century sceptics. These early converts to Christianity were on the spot. They could examine for themselves the facts recorded in the Gospels, and as a result of their investigation they broke life-long ties of worship to which they were deeply attached, and embraced a religion which demanded of them the greatest sacrifices human beings could make. Christianity, moreover, offered no worldly incentives or inducements to its adherents, but depended altogether on the supernatural evidence which it presented for its claims. Such being the case, it would be a miracle greater than any recorded in the Gospels, if the Jews became Christians without the most substantial evidence for the truth of the supernatural things recorded in the Gospels.

That certainly puts matters in a very commonsense light. I never before realized the tremendous seriousness of the change from Judaism to Christianity. And, as you say, the Jews were not a. people to take such a step except on the strongest evidence to justify it.

Rationalists overlook the fact that supernatural religion absolutely required supernatural evidence to confirm its claims. The Gospels abound in supernatural evidence, and that is why Rationalists are obliged to deny the possibility of the supernatural or else accept Christianity for what it claims to be, namely, a Divine religion.

But why is it, after all, that Rationalists who certainly above the ordinary grade of intelligence, fail to be convinced by arguments which to common sense are so compelling?

It is the old, old reason, namely, not being open to conviction. If a person has a very strong motive for not accepting evidence he becomes blind to the clearest evidence.

On the other hand, if he has strong motives for accepting evidence, he will swallow the most absurd fabrications without hesitation. We see examples of this every day. Observe how readily some people join the most nonsensical religious sects or political movements simply because these organisations give them what pleases them. A strong argument for Christianity is that, although it imposes great restraints on man’s impulses, and offers no concessions to human frailty, it, nevertheless, became the dominant religion of civilisation. You can’t talk away that proof of the supernatural character of Christ’s religion. Men do not naturally embrace a creed that restricts and restrains them. When, therefore, we behold millions of the world’s best men and women embrace the religion of the Crucified we know that it is because Christ was not only crucified but that He also had His glorious Resurrection. The Resurrection is a greater miracle than any other recorded in the Gospels. Let Rationalists explain the establishment of Christianity without the Resurrection and then we shall listen to their theories about the Gospel miracles.

Is the denial of the supernatural the only argument that Rationalists oppose to the truth of the Gospels?

No, but it is their fundamental reason for their stand against the Gospels. They also assert that the Gospels with their miracles were written in order to enable the Apostles to obtain ascendancy over the people and thus establish themselves in authority.

What would you say to that?

The Church was firmly established before the Gospels were written. It was the firmly and widely established Church that gave us the Gospels. The Gospels did not originate the Church but were only a documentary record of her Divine Founder’s life and doctrine, which was authorised by the Church, after it was widely established.

How long after the Resurrection were the Gospels written?

The Gospels were written in the first century, within the lifetime of those who were witnesses of the facts therein recorded. The Jews did not deny the Gospel facts, although it would have been the most effective means of discrediting Christianity. No fact of the Gospel was ever called in question by those who lived at the time of its occurrence.

I have heard it said by some who disbelieve the Gospels that their reason for doing so is that the Evangelists contradict one another. What about that statement?

The test of true testimony in a court of law is difference in incidental details, but agreement on essentials. Twenty persons witnessing an event will give twenty different accounts of various details but the same account of main facts. Variation of description is not contradiction, since each observer pays attention to what most impresses him. In all the Gospels there is no contradiction on essentials, nor is there error in non-substantials.

Another objection I have heard against the Gospels is that the Evangelists were interested parties who profited by the glorification which they conferred on Christ, and therefore are not reliable historians.

To that assertion the answer is that the Evangelists gained nothing but, on the other hand, incurred great suffering and loss by publishing the Gospel facts. They were imprisoned, exiled and finally endured mortal agony for witnessing to the facts they recorded.

What would you say to the statement that the people living at the time the Gospels were written were credulous and superstitious, and that the Evangelists took advantage of their state of mind to impose the Gospels onthem?

To this false accusation is opposed the well known fact that at the time of Christ the Jews, Greeks and Romans were the most critical and sceptical people in the history of mankind. Yet it was the sceptical Jews, Greeks and Romans who accepted the Gospels, and lived and died professing the truths which they contained.

Why is it that, if the Gospels are true, the Jews as a people did not become Christians? The Jews were looking for a Messiah who would be a great worldly monarch, who would make them the dominant people of the world. When Christ declared that His Kingdom was not of this world and refused to be an earthly king, they turned against Him. Although they openly admitted the Resurrection, it did not convert but rather perverted them, and they sought to destroy the evidence of the Resurrection by bribing the Roman military guard. All the first Christians, however, were Jews, and so many were becoming converts that the Jewish authorities instituted the first persecutions against the Christians. The Jewish leaders realised that if Christ prevailed they would lose their power, position and emoluments.

But the Jewish leaders were not fools. If the Gospel facts were true, why would these leaders stultify themselves, by rejecting Christ?

The Jews themselves never denied the Gospel facts. In the very city where Christ was crucified He was worshipped as God by those who had witnessed His death on the Cross. It was the Resurrection that converted them. But the leaders, carried away by passion and pride, refused to believe, despite the most convincing evidence. In their blind hatred of Christ they went so far as to endeavour to suppress evidence, which is not only a serious violation of justice, but also proof of bad faith on the part of those who have recourse to it. A person may be convinced without being converted.

Does it not seem strange, or rather unbelievable, that the Jewish leaders would close their eyes to the evidence for Christ’s claims, if it was so convincing as you state?

Nothing is strange or unbelievable when people are dominated by pride and self-interest. We see the same tactics of the Jewish leaders employed today by the opponents of Christianity, who after the most deep and critical investigation of the Gospels, are compelled to admit their genuineness and authenticity, yet refuse to believe their message because it does not give them what they want.

Nevertheless, despite all you say, I can’t understand how people of intelligence can ignore evidence simply because it does not confirm their point of view.

Self-interest, passion, pride often blind those who otherwise would see clearly. For that reason Jesus said of the Jewish leaders: “They are blind and leaders of the blind.” (Saint Matthew xv, 14). I shall now state briefly the reasons why anyone who is not blinded by prejudice must admit that the Gospels are the truest books in the world.

(1) The Evangelists were either eyewitnesses or companions of eyewitnesses of what they relate.

(2) They had no motive for deceiving; they gained nothing, but, on the contrary, suffered imprisonment and death for preaching what they recorded in the Gospels.

(3) They could not have deceived if they had wished, for multitudes who lived with Christ were living when the Gospels were written.

(4) No people on earth at that period were more sceptical than the Jews.

(5) The Jews never denied the Gospel facts but tried to suppress them or explain them away.

(6) It was because so many Jews were becoming Christians that the leaders inaugurated the first Christian persecution.

(7) The conversion of so many Jews to Christianity would have been impossible unless the Gospel facts were true.

(8) The Evangelists could not have invented such a sublime character as Christ; nor could any human author have conceived of such a majestic and unique personage.

(9) No merely human pen could have given us the Gospels unless the things recorded were actual occurrences.

If the above data were presented to a jury of unprejudiced men they could hardly bring in any verdict except that the Gospels were what they have always been held to be by Christians, from the first century to the present day, namely, Divinely true.

May I ask you why you stated that no merely human author could have invented Christ?

The invention of a character like that of Christ, and of discourses such as those recorded of Him, would be beyond the power of the combined genius of Homer, Dante and Shakespeare. Yet the Evangelists were very ordinary men, chiefly of the peasant type, and absolutely incapable of the sublime descriptions and discourses of the Gospels unless they were merely setting down facts as seen and heard.

What is meant by saying that the Evangelists merely narrated facts as seen and heard?

That is a very significant question and I am glad you asked it. The Gospels are the only biography in the world in which there is practically no comment by the author. The Evangelists simply narrate what Jesus says and does, with scarcely a word of their own interpretation. They draw no inferences from His stupendous miracles, show no amazement at the acclaim of the multitude nor at the denunciation of His adversaries. They record His glorifications and His humiliations without any, even the slightest, expression of amazement or the least attempt to emphasize or detract from what occurs. In no other biography do we find such disinterested recordings of events as in the Gospels. As a result of this disinterestedness the Gospels give us a living likeness rather than a portrait of Jesus. In a portrait the artist either embellishes the subject before him, or attempts to interpret his characteristics. The Gospels, however, are like a photograph which reflects only what is before the lens. That is why the Gospels give us such an unsurpassable picture of Jesus. No other biography leaves such an intimate impression on the reader. Although none of the Evangelists describe the person of Jesus, we form a very definite idea of Him simply by what He says and does. In point of fact, no biography gives us such a clear conception of its subject as the Gospels give us of Christ, without describing a single feature of His person, whether it be His voice, appearance or any other characteristic.

What is your inference from that feature of the Gospels?

It seems quite clear that it is evidence of the reliability the Gospels. Due to the fact that the Evangelists were, for the most part, ordinary men, it was naturally impossible for them to give us a work surpassing the genius of the most eminent writers known to mankind. This is one of the points that go to show it is what it is claimed to be, a supernatural religion.

Just what is meant by a supernatural religion?

A supernatural religion is one whose origin and doctrine is from a supernatural source, that is, from a source higher than is natural to human beings. Jesus Christ, Who is God in the true sense, is the Founder of Christianity, and His doctrine, which is known as Revelation, is consequently Divinely true. The Gospels announce the religion revealed by the Eternal Son of God. They tell us certain things about God and ourselves we should never be able to know by our natural or human powers. Because this knowledge is revealed to us by the Son of God, it is called Revelation. This Revelation contains doctrines which are above human reason to originate or to understand. It is accepted on the sole word of God Who can neither deceive nor be deceived. For that reason our religion is called our Holy Faith. Christ established His Church to perpetuate His ministry and teaching. It was the Church, divinely guided by the Holy Ghost, that preserved for us the Gospels and the Sacred Scriptures. It was not until the middle of the fourth century that the Bible, as we know it, was given to the world. Up to that time there were many and various writings which claimed to be Holy Scriptures. It was the Church, Divinely authorised, that determined and solemnly proclaimed the writings which were truly the Word of God. And it was the Church of Christ that preserved them intact, and transmitted them down through the centuries.

How were the Gospels preserved and transmitted down to the present day?

You must know that no book now in existence dates from the time of Christ. Every book originating at that time perished centuries ago. It is only a copy of the original, or a copy of a copy that now exists. The oldest book in the world today is a Bible whose origin dates from about A.D. 350. If it were not for the Church, in whose monasteries ancient manuscripts were copied and preserved there would not be in the world today even one book from classical antiquity. Until the invention of printing in the sixteenth century, all books were made by penmanship. This made books to be very costly. The Bible, for instance, required several years to copy, as each word had to be carefully written on a substance called parchment, which was the skin of sheep, polished and made very thin. In the monasteries of the Middle Ages was a room called the Scriptorium, in which there were sometimes as many as a hundred desks, at each one of which a monk wrote down what was dictated by a lector, who read from the book what was being reproduced. At the end of each page that was copied, an inspector, after carefully comparing the copy with the book, certified that it was a true version. This mark had to be on every page before it was inserted into a book called a codex. In this way a hundred copies of a book were made as one reader dictated the contents of the volume which was to be renewed. Even with this method of transmission books were few and hard to obtain.

But how are we certain that the Gospels as a result of this frequent renewal and transmission are now the very same as the original?

That is where the solicitude of the Church showed itself before a copy of the Gospels was published it had to have the certification of the ecclesiastical authorities that it was a true version of the genuine Gospels. This certification is now known as the imprimatur and if you open your Bible you will find it on the front page. When the Rationalists began their endeavour to discredit Christianity by discrediting the Gospels, their first procedure was to attack the genuiness of the Gospels. They moved Heaven and earth in order to find some addition or modification in the Gospels of today which differed from the most ancient manuscripts. They consulted the oldest Scriptures of the various languages, dug up monuments of ancient Greece, Syria and Rome, but always it was found that the Gospels as found in these ancient documents agreed with the texts of the present Gospels.

The hostile activity and scholarship of the Rationalists only served to make clearer than ever that the Gospels are now just what they were in the time of the Apostles.

I gather from this and from what you have said previously that the fundamental objection of Rationalists to the Gospels concerns Revelation, because Revelation is beyond human reason to originate or to comprehend. Am I right in so concluding?

Yes. It is true that Revelation is beyond human reason to originate or comprehend. We accept Revelation on the sole word of the One Who revealed it, namely, Jesus Christ the Son of God. It is not, however, unreasonable to believe that what God reveals is absolutely true. We may employ our reason to ascertain if Christ is truly what He claimed to be, but once that is settled it is the highest use of reason to believe that He Who gave us our reason will not ask us to act unreasonably. Saint Augustine said that he would not believe that Christianity was a Divine religion if it taught only what could originate in the human mind. The truths of the Gospel are such that they never could have been conceived by the human intellect. Every- other religion teaches only what human reason can evolve, which is sufficient proof that they are only human religions. Christianity alone teaches truths too sublime to be the creation of the human mind. Revelation proclaims the Fatherhood of God, the brotherhood of man, the Trinity, the Incarnation, the Eucharist, the Resurrection of the body, universal judgment, and a future eternal life, which will be happy or miserable according to each one’s conduct during this brief period of probation called life.

It is because Revelation concerns life’s conduct, and holds up high standards of morality that it is opposed by some persons. Others oppose it because of intellectual pride, which refuses to submit one’s judgment to the sole word of another. It is true that Faith requires the sacrifice of our judgment, but the sacrifice is made on the altar of God’s Word, which cannot fail. People submit their judgement every day to expert opinion, whether it be with regard to law, medicine, surgery or any other department of scientific knowledge. God certainly qualifies as an expert on all things, human and Divine.

You have certainly enlightened me concerning Revelation. As a matter of fact I have observed that people are perpetually acting on the confidence they have in the judgment of others. People who consult a surgeon about an operation submit to his judgment in a matter of life and death. It’s all a question, it seems to me, of the trustworthiness and knowledge of the one whose word we accept.

Yes, and Christ was fully aware of that, for before He began to proclaim His Revelation He gave proof that He was speaking with Divine authority.

Revelation means declaring something otherwise hidden. A man reveals his thoughts by speech. A telescope reveals the glory and magnitude of the firmament, which otherwise would be unknown to man. Night reveals the starry heavens which but for the darkness of night would be invisible. Jesus Christ, the Eternal Son of God, revealed to mankind things about God, ourselves and the hereafter, which we should not otherwise know. By human reason we may know that man’s soul is immortal, but not that it is destined for eternal membership in the Divine family. The Gospel contains the Revelation of Jesus Christ which is the basis of His supernatural religion.

All those who for one reason or other refuse to accept a supernatural religion are opponents of the Gospels.

Jesus Christ is the light of the world. The Catholic Church is the institution He founded to enlighten, guide and aid mankind to eternal welfare, and the Gospels are the documentary evidence of His Divine mission.

To conclude and sum up: The Gospels were written by those who lived at the time the facts were recorded took place; they were addressed primarily to people living in or near the time of the facts narrated; the writers were eyewitnesses of what they described; they had no motive for deceiving; what they describe and record could not have been invented by any human being unless the things narrated were actual occurrences; the people at the time were the most critical known to mankind; the era in which they were written was the classicalperiod of the world’s history; and finally, the research of scientific scholarship has confirmed what Christianity has held from its infancy, namely, that the Gospels are a completely reliable account of Christ’s life and teaching.

Nihil Obstat

RECCAREDUS FLEMING, Censor Theol. Deput.

Imprimi Potest

@IOANNES CAROLUS,

Archiep. Dublinen.,

Hiberniae Primas.

Dublini, die 16 Mai, anno 1945. ********

Maxims For Attaining Perfection

BY SAINT ALPHONSUS LIGUORI

INDEX

1. To desire ardently to increase in the love of Jesus Christ.

2. Often to make acts of love towards Jesus Christ. Immediately on waking, and before going to sleep, to make an act of love, seeking always to unite your own will to the will of Jesus Christ.

3. Often to meditate on his Passion.

4. Always to ask Jesus Christ for his love.

5. To communicate often, and many times in the day to make spiritual Communions.

6. Often to visit the Most Holy Sacrament.

7. Every morning to receive from the hands of Jesus Christ himself your own cross.

8. To desire Paradise and death, in order to be able to love Jesus Christ perfectly and for all eternity.

9. Often to speak of the love of Jesus Christ.

10. To accept contradictions for the sake of Jesus Christ.

11. To rejoice in the happiness of God.

12. To do that which is most pleasing to Jesus Christ, and not to refuse him anything that is agreeable to him.

13. To desire and to endeavour that all should love Jesus Christ.

14. To pray always for sinners and for the souls in purgatory.

15. To drive from your heart every affection that does not belong to Jesus Christ.

16. Always to have recourse to the most holy Mary, that she may obtain for us the love of Jesus Christ.

17. To honour Mary in order to please Jesus Christ.

18. To seek to please Jesus Christ in all your actions,

19. To offer yourself to Jesus Christ to suffer any pain for his love.

20 To be always determined to die rather than commit a wilful venial sin.

27. To suffer crosses patiently, saying, “Thus it pleases Jesus Christ.”

22. To renounce your own pleasures for the love of Jesus Christ.

23. To pray as much as possible.

24. To practice all the mortifications that obedience permits.

25. To do all your spiritual exercises as if it were for the last time.

26. To persevere in good works in the time of aridity.

27. Not to do nor yet to leave undone anything through human respect.

28. Not to complain in sickness.

29. To love solitude, to be able to converse alone with Jesus Christ.

30. To drive away melancholy [i.e. gloom].

37. Often to recommend yourself to those persons who love Jesus Christ.

32. In temptation, to have recourse to Jesus crucified, and to Mary in her sorrows.

33. To trust entirely in the Passion of Jesus Christ.

34. After committing a fault, not to be discouraged, but to repent and resolve to amend.

35. To do good to those who do evil.

36. To speak well of all, and to excuse the intention when you cannot defend the action.

37. To help your neighbour as much as you can.

38. Neither to say nor to do anything that might vex him. And if you have been wanting in charity, to ask his pardon and speak kindly to him.

39. Always to speak with mildness and in a low tone.

40. To offer to Jesus Christ all the contempt and persecution that you meet with.

41. To look upon [religious] Superiors as the representatives of Jesus Christ.

42. To obey without answering and without repugnance, and not to seek your own satisfaction in anything.

43. To like the lowest employment.

44. To like the poorest things.

45. Not to speak either good or evil of yourself.

46. To humble yourself even towards inferiors.

47. Not to excuse yourself when you are reproved.

48. Not to defend yourself when found fault with.

49. To be silent when you are disquieted [i.e. upset].

50. Always to renew your determination of becoming a saint, saying, “My Jesus, I desire to be all Yours, and You must be all mine.”

********

Meditations On The Holy Ghost

BY BEDE JARRETT, O.P

INDEX

INTRODUCTION

These pages are reprinted from Meditations for Layfolk., a book which seems to be as much in demand today as it was when it first appeared in 1915.

Devotion to the Holy Ghost was a notable feature ofFather Bede Jarrett’s spirituality. He did much by his sermons and writings to bring before the minds of the faithful the forgotten Paraclete- that divine Force which has no parallel in created nature. The proper mission of the Holy Ghost is to complete creation, to finish, and to make all things perfect. For us individually He is the Sanctifier; we are His temples. He works with divine skill on our wills, and only wilful resistance and obstinacy on our part can obstruct His sanctifying work. His gifts add a new splendour to virtue. In our weakness He is our hope. St Paul links hope with the power of the Holy Ghost (Rom. 14:13). By the Holy Ghost we obtain light of mind and force of will by which we can dare to reach out to heroisms beyond our weak nature.

BERNARD DELANY, O.P

THE SEVEN GIFTS OF THE HOLY GHOST

Wisdom

Understanding

Counsel

Fortitude

Knowledge

Piety

Fear of the Lord

The Holy Ghost (Love)

GOD’S LOVE PERSONIFIED

The Third Person of the Blessed Trinity is the most mysterious; about Him we seem to hear least and to understand most vaguely. The work of Father and Son, their place in the economy of the divine plan, is simple and evident, at least in its main lines, but of the Holy Spirit it appears as though His precise purpose had not been sufficiently described to us. He is the equal of the Father and the Son, of the same nature, power, substance, eternally existent with them, participating in the same divine life, forming with them the ever-blessed Three-in-One. He represents to our human point of view that wonderful mystery, the personified love that proceeds from Father and from Son for ever, and by this act completes the perfections of God.

We can conceive of no further addition to that being, save power and knowledge and love. Yet we know also that He has His place, not only in the inter-relation (if the word may be allowed) of the Godhead, but in the relationship (though this phrase is certainly inaccurate) that exists between God and us. For since God is one and indivisible, His love for us cannot be other than the love that He has for Himself. In Him there can be no distinction at all. Hence it is that we discover that He loves Himself and us in the love of the Holy Ghost.

His love we see to be nothing else than Himself, unchanging, undying, without shadow of alteration. Sin as we may, we cannot make God love us less. Children though we be of wrath, He cannot help but love us, for the gifts of God, especially the supreme gift of Himself, are without repentance.

GOD’S LOVE ETERNAL

God cannot cease to love me. That is the most startling fact that our doctrine reveals. Sinner or saint He loves and cannot well help Himself. Magdalen in her sin, Magdalen in her sainthood, was loved by God. The difference between her position made some difference also in the effect of that love on her, but the love was the same, since it was the Holy Spirit who is the love of the Father and the Son.

Whatever I do, I am loved. But then, if I sin I am unworthy of love? Yes, but I am unworthy always. Nor can He love me for what I am, since in that case I should compel His love, force His will by something external to Himself. In fact, really, if I came to consider, I should find that I was not loved by God because I was good, but that I was good because God loved me. My improvement does not cause God to love me, but is the effect of God having Himself loved me. Consequently, even when I am punished by God, He cannot hate me. It is His very love itself that drives Him (out of the very nature of its perfection) to punish, so that Dante spoke truly when he imagined over the portals of Hell the inscription: ‘To rear me was the work of Immortal Power and Love.’

Each of us is, therefore, sure that he is loved eternally, that from God’s side that love can suffer no c hange. How, then, is it that we grow evil, or lose the familiar intercourse that we once had with Him? It is because He has given us the terrible power of erecting as it were a shield between ourselves and His love. He loves for ever the same, but it is we who by our sins have the power to shut off that love from effecting anything good in our souls.

GOD’S LOVE UNCHANGING

Surely there is something overpowering in the concept of this work of God, this unceasing and unchanging love. I talk of fidelity in friendship as being to me the most beautiful thing on earth. The sight of a lover faithful, despite disillusionment, to his beloved is the most wonderful thing in all the world; this loyalty of soul for soul, despite every toil and stress, good repute and evil; beyond all degradation and above all ambition, when soul has been knit to soul.

Love is not love

Which alters, when it alteration finds, Or bends with the remover to remove.

Yet this is but a feeble representation of the ineffable union between God and myself. Sinner though I be, He is my lover always. Even my sins cannot break His persistence, can only set a barrier between myself and it, can only by the dangerous gift of my free will prevent its effect from being seen in my soul. But the love of God is with me always, ‘in me and within me and around, in million-billowed consentaneousness, the flowing, flowing, flowing’ of the Spirit.

How can I hold back, howsoever wrongly I have acted? for His love is the same for ever. As I was deep in His love when I was a child, so also does He love me now.

The Holy Ghost (Light)

O DIVINEST LIGHT, IMPART

The work of the Spirit has been outlined in the Gospels. Our Lord at His Last Supper, when His teaching seems to have expounded in the full splendour and height of its tremendous mysteries, when, if ever, the Apostles could truly say that He had passed out of the realm of parable and had come into the deepest ways of truth—Our Lord at His Last Supper said that His going away was necessary for the coming of the Paraclete. He had to die and rise and ascend, and then from the right hand of the Father His own work would continue in a ceaseless intercession for all the children of men.

On earth, however, His place would be taken by the Holy Ghost, who should teach the Apostles all things, and bring back to their minds whatever He had taught them. In this way was guaranteed the infallibility and growth in doctrine which are the work of the Spirit.

Our Lord had certainly to temper His doctrine to the minds of His hearers. He could not from the first reveal to them the full meaning of His words. In the beginning, indeed, the need was simply for the main ideas to sink gradually in: then slowly the other less important though necessary truths could be added.

The little that He did teach was not too clearly retained, so that He had frequently to be up-braiding them with not having understood His meaning. The length of His stay with them had not made them always grasp of what spirit they were. What should happen when He was gone? He answers that only His going will set them on their own strength. UNTO EVERY FAITHFUL HEART

As the Church grew in the range and depth of her doctrine, so must she for ever grow. The problems that distract her must increase; with each generation they change their expression, for the forms of thought are the most mobile and uncertain of all human construction.

A cathedral lasts longer than a philosophy, a haunting song outlives the latest system of metaphysics. Questions are settled only that the restless mind of man may add another difficulty to the solution that allayed its previous doubt. Rapier-like in its power to find the weak joint in the armour, reason, sharpened by scientific criticism, picks here and there at the composition of the Creed. New conditions, new discoveries, new languages, require new attitudes, new difficulties, new adjustments of old principles. Obviously it is not sufficient to know the rules of the art; the great trouble and anxiety comes in their application.

So, too, is it in the Faith. The articles of belief seem at times to suggest contradictory answers to the problem that happens at the moment to be perplexing our minds. According to one mystery, one solution; according to a second, another. How to choose and select, to decree without fear or favour, without danger of mistake, is the work of the Church.

Not merely in the broad line of the Church, but in the individual soul, the same task must go on—the balance between what has to be discarded as of passing significance and what is of abiding import. I have to discover for myself which is the mere adventitious dressing of some bygone form of thought and which is of enduring truth. Yet not indeed for myself, since in the Church abides for ever the indwelling of the Spirit of God.

PLENTEOUS STREAMS FROM LOVE’S BRIGHT FLOOD

Thus came the Holy Spirit on the first Whitsunday. He came, we read, in the rush of a great wind and in the form of fire, to typify the illumination of the mind by faith and the impulse given to the will by love. He came to teach all things, to recall to the minds of the Apostles the full doctrine of Christ.

At once, after their reception of His grace, the Apostles become changed men. No longer timid and frightened followers who fled at the first sight of danger and denied with an oath that they had ever known the name of Christ, they now become glad missionaries, declaring themselves willing to suffer in defence of that name. In council chambers and before kings they announce the Gospel.

So, too, when perplexities come as to whether or no they should force on all Christians the ceremonies of the Old Law as being of binding value on the conscience of the New Dispensation, they assemble, discuss, and decree in a phrase that clearly marks their own appreciation of the place they had to take in giving to the world the message of Christ. ‘It has seemed good to the Holy Spirit and to us.’ They and the Holy Spirit are fellow-workers in the apostolate of Christ. The revelation made to them by their Master was but a grain of mustard-seed compared with the full development that should come after. It should grow from that till it included all truth; but the knowledge of every detail of that truth would not at once be necessary, so the gradual unfolding was left to the work of the Spirit.

The work, then, of the Holy Ghost is twofold: it is to inflame the love, and it is to enlighten the mind. Let me wait patiently for this illumination of my spirit by the Holy Spirit, putting no obstacle in the way, praying daily for that illumination which shall light as by a vision my view of life.

GIFTS OF THE HOLY GHOST

COURAGE OR CONFIDENCE IN OMNIPOTENT LOVE

The real difficulty experienced by most of us in keeping up our courage in the unceasing battle of life is that we realize how utterly we depend upon ourselves. Of course it is true that the grace of God will be always with us, that it is never withheld, that there is always a sufficiency of it for us to meet and triumph over every assault of the evil one, yet even so the disquieting thought comes home to us that it is always we ourselves who determine our own actions; so much so, indeed, that if they are worthy of reward, it is we who obtain the reward, but if of punishment, that it is we who suffer.

Says St Thomas with stimulating paradox: ‘Not partly by God and partly by man, but altogether by God and altogether by man.’ That is to say, I have to reconcile these two separate truths:

(a) I cannot will anything without God’s grace helping me to do it; (b)yet God’s help does not take away from me my responsibility in the act, for its moral value will be adjudged to my credit or demerit.

It is then, to repeat, just in the second part of the paradox that the difficulty lies. Conscious as I am of my past failure, I can hardly look forward without dismay to future troubles. Consequently I turn to see if there is anything that the Church teaches that can relieve me from the burden of this discouragement. Is there any doctrine that gives me in any way at all an escape from the terror of my own responsibility?

THE SEVENFOLD GIFTS WORK WITHIN ME

To this the Church makes answer that her doctrine of the indwelling of the Spirit of God by means of the Sevenfold Gifts does go a long way to remove the load from my own shoulders, does suggest to me a perfectly true sense in which my soul is ruled not by me but by another. As far, then, as these things can be stated in human language, we may say that the gifts differ from the virtues in this, that the gifts are moved into operation not by me but by God.

When I perform an act of virtue it is obvious that (not excluding God’s grace) it is I who per form it, and acquire merit in consequence; but in the movement of the gifts it is not I but God who is the mover. He is the sole mover. In the actual movement of the soul under the influence of the gifts I cannot claim any lot or part, I cannot claim any merit at all. It is He who has His hand on the tiller, who guides, steers, propels. Hence it is He, not I, who has control of my soul. With the four gifts that perfect my intelligence, He illumines my mind; with the one gift that perfects the will, He inflames my desire; and with the two that perfect the passions, He strengthens with His intimate indwelling my emotions of love and fear.

By the instrumentality of the gifts the soul is keyed-up to the level of God, tuned to concert-pitch. Or, to vary the metaphor, the soul is made so responsive to the divine influence that, like some delicate electrical receiver, it registers every passing breath of God. I must remember always that it is His doing, not mine.

THE SEVENFOLD GIFTS GUIDE AND RULE ME

Must it therefore be admitted that by the gifts I merit nothing? Surely if this be so it would seem as though I had therefore no need for them. If their influence on my life was only to leave me no better off than before I received them, I might just as well not have had them at all. If in them God is the mover to the exclusion of myself, then it would be absurd for me to expect any reward for what has been absolutely no work of mine. This is true. I do not merit by the gifts. Yet to this I must also add that I can profit by them.

The Holy Spirit lights up my mind and enables me to see, or refines my perception of and responsiveness to His least suggestion. That is His doing so far. Illumination and refinement are entirely His work. But my part comes in later, when I act up to these suggestions or in accordance with this vision. Then I am profiting by the gifts. Suggestion and vision alike are from God. He opens my mind and I see Him everywhere, in a flower, in trouble, in the soul of a sinner.

If in consequence of seeing Him in the sinner, I turn to that sinner and speak kindly of the love that never fails, or if I help him even by my sympathy though I speak no word of spiritual significance, then the good that I achieve, or at least the good 1am trying to do, becomes my way of profiting by means of the gifts. This indwelling of the Spirit of God, while it takes from me the control of my soul and hands it over for the moment to God, yet gives me something by which I can love again and be rewarded. I do not merit by the sevenfold gifts, but I do merit through them.

GIFTS THAT PERFECT INTELLIGENCE

SEEING GOD IN ALL THINGS

Out of these sevenfold gifts there are four that perfect the intellectual side of man. They are wisdom, understanding, knowledge, and counsel. Of these it is obvious that the last is chiefly given me for the benefit of others, the first three for myself.

The gift of counsel means quite simply that I receive suggestions from the Holy Spirit what advice I am to give to those who come to consult me. I am made so responsive to the divine Wisdom that I at once perceive what is best for others, in a way that without the gifts I should be wholly unable to do.

Thus it sometimes happens that 1am suddenly conscious of words apparently suggested to me from outside, which are as much a surprise to myself as they are of evident comfort to my hearers. The very phrase for which they have been longing, and which alone seems to have the power to enable them to see straight into the entanglement of their affairs, comes trippingly to my tongue, though I am perhaps unacquainted with their circumstances, except for the little that they have been able to tell me.

The gift of knowledge enables me to see God in the natural world of creation, in reason, in the arts and crafts of man, in nature. It is an understanding of God learnt from the material things of life. On the other hand, the gift of understanding allows me to see Him in the supernatural world of faith, in truths and mysteries; while wisdom further acquaints me with the inter-relation between faith and reason, nature and supernature.

THE MIND’S CLEAR LIGHT

In these ways God by means of His gifts lights up our minds. Under this illumination I now look out upon creation and find it to be alive with the traces of God’s presence. Nature becomes at once the very loveliness of His vesture, and I say to myself that if I can touch but the hem of it I shall be made whole. Even in the relentless preying of beast on beast I see somehow the wonderful work of God. The machinery of man is no longer a sight of ugliness, but becomes coloured by the brightness of His power. It is the child’s toy that reproduces on an infinitely smaller scale the creative energy of the Creator.

The linked reasoning of philosophy is the imitation of an infinite intelligence. Then I lift my mind higher to the ampler regions of faith. Here surely is the very splendour of God. In the depths of mysteries that my intelligence is too faulty and finite to fathom, lurk the wonder of His truth and the ways of His wisdom. Justice, mercy, loving-kindness, and overpowering majesty are all crowded upon my imagination by the thought of all that He has revealed to me of Himself. Here, if anywhere, I can at least understand that God is altogether above me.

Then again, the highest gift of all floods my soul with even clearer light, and I see the interrelation of all things. I see how the death of a sparrow, the sunset, the Incarnation, are all parts of a perfect whole. It is not an uplifting of the soul from earth to heaven, but a perception that earth and heaven are themselves the fragments of a larger scheme.

THE GIFT OF TRANSFIGURING VISION

These, indeed, are visions such as the gifts that perfect the intelligence evoke in the mind. But it is our business to see that they do not remain barren visions. Just as faith is allowed us that it may lead to life, and as we shall be the more straitly condemned if we do not carry into practice what faith reveals; so also will our judgement be the more severe if with all the light which is vouchsafed to us we yet prefer to walk unheeding in the midst of this wonderful world.

There are very many who find life dull and religion altogether a thing that bores them. Perhaps the reason is that they neglect the vision: it is there before their eyes if they would only look. But for me the world must become transfigured. Life then will be found more easy, less vexatious, will lose that dreary outlook which is the most depressing of all temptations, and which makes me consider it not worth living. I shall at least understand that there is a purpose in existence. Evil and suffering are seen to be parts that require to be handled carefully, that their places in the design may not be overlooked; not ignored, but acknowledged, they are found to be the stepping-stones to greatness. Success and failure have no separate meaning, for the need is for them both.

So that, in all, patience is discovered to be the most perfect virtue to have achieved, patience with others, with oneself, with life, with God. Nor is this state of soul due to a disregard of the circumstances that attend our time on earth, but to a more thorough appreciation of the terms of existence. I see life fuller, enjoy it more. It is the patience not of the wearied voluptuary but of the enraptured lover, who is so sure of his love that he can afford to wait through all time for eternity.

THE GIFTS THAT PERFECTS WILL

GOD IS MY STRENGTH

This gift is fortitude, which, as we have already stated in general terms, must be carefully distinguished from the virtue of fortitude. This gift is entirely under the direction of God and excludes altogether on my part any action at all in the operation of the gift. This exclusion of all co-operation seems harder perhaps to understand when the will is in question, as it is in the gift of fortitude. It seems altogether impossible to imagine that God can direct the will and yet that it should not be voluntary.

It is clear, indeed, from the Catholic doctrine of grace, that it is possible for God to move the will so powerfully as to determine not merely that the will shall act, but to determine also that it shall act freely. God is so intimate to the will that He can, so to say, save it from within. But this is different from His control of it in the gift of fortitude. In the intellect a light can be present that is none of our own; but in the will how can there be a force that is not itself of the will?

In other words, we have to reconcile two ideas apparently contradictory—namely, a will which acts yet which does not merit. I am apparently and actually perfectly free, for God does not compel the will unwillingly; yet with all my freedom under the guidance of the gift I cannot acquire merit. That is what we said was the very characteristic of the sevenfold gifts, that they were in their proper operation entirely the work of God.

GOD NEARER THAN DEAREST FRIEND

To grasp the way in which God thus works, we can describe it only as a sense of firmness imparted to the soul by the perceived presence of God. A comparison, however inadequate, suggests to us in what manner this is effected.

The mere presence of others gives us a courage that alone we should probably not have experienced. A child having to undergo some slight operation, some test of pain, is usually willing to bear it patiently if only its mother will hold its hand. It is of course not that the pain is in this way rendered any the less, but only that a feeling of bravery is imparted by the mere presence of the mother.

So, again, in a still more striking way is it with children in the dark. They are frightened by the loneliness of it; but if another is in the room, though he may not be seen nor heard, without any sensible appreciation of the presence and sustained only by the knowledge of the nearness, the child becomes at once reinforced by a courage that springs entirely from the other’s proximity. An invalid will grow querulous when he knows that he is alone. The mere presence of an onlooker will nerve us to bravery without a word being spoken or thing done. In some such sense our soul, by the perceived presence of the Holy Spirit, is encouraged, despite its natural or acquired timidity, to persevere.

Thus it will be seen that the paradox has been reconciled. The perception of the presence has not been our own doing, still less has the nearness of God been through any merit of our own. But the mere indwelling of the Holy Ghost has itself refined the perceptive faculties of the will so that they are strengthened by the divine Friend.

THE SOUL’S SWEET GUEST

This, then, is the precise purpose of this particular gift- a perception, apart from all the ordinary methods, of the proximity of God to the soul. Not, indeed, as though it meant nothing more than the appreciation that God is everywhere, but rather just one aspect of the appreciation—namely, such an idea of it as will enable the soul to gain courage.

Always the gifts mean, according to the teaching of the Church, such a refinement of spirit as shall enable us to perceive the least passing breath of God. So still has our soul become that the slightest stir ruffles the surface with ripples of a passing presence. So delicate is my soul that instinctively I am conscious of the indwelling of the Spirit of God and nerved in consequence by a corresponding strength which is no result of any determined act of will, but is, as it were, forced on me by the very nature of the case. Neither presence nor strengthening are in any case my doing, nor do I participate in either.

But when I take the further step and proceed to act in consequence of them -when, in virtue of a strength that is not my own, I banish fear and face resolutely the difficulties of the good life-then has the gift led to the virtue, and out of something that was divine has blossomed something that is human. Surely it will be of the utmost consequence to me to realize this nearness of God, and the courage that its perception will give.

In all my trials none are so hard for me to bear as discouragement and depression. How, then, can I now shirk my duty and the disagreeable necessities imposed on me once I have made use of this divine friend, whose hand is always locked in mine?

GIFTS THAT PERFECT THE EMOTIONS

WASH AWAY EACH SINFUL STAIN

Besides the intelligence and the will there are other faculties which, though they are numerous and diverse, can be shortly grouped under the heading of the emotions. Sometimes they are called passions, in the philosophic meaning of the word: that is to say, the movements of the non-rational portion of our being. Sometimes we speak of them as sentiments, especially when we wish to imply that they are to be considered weak and effeminate. Under both categories there will be meditations on them, for they constitute, as will be pointed out, a very considerable force in human life.

Here, however, we have only to consider them as perfected by two gifts of the Holy Ghost. For this purpose it will be necessary to say that these emotions, though various, can be themselves divided into two main headings, such as fall under the general name of love and anger. Under the first would come joy, desire, etc.—namely, all these sentiments that have upon us the effect of drawing us towards something or some person, and giving us expansive feelings towards all humanity. The chief result of these, even physically, is that they widen our sympathies.

Under the heading of anger we would place fear and the other set of feelings, the effects of which are to chill the soul, to contract the emotions, and to produce upon us the feeling of numbness. Even physically we know from experiments of psychologists that the result is to stifle action. The one set shows that our mind has been attracted, the other that it has been repelled.

GENTLY SHED THY GRACIOUS RAIN

Piety, then, is said to perfect the attitude of man to God and to things of God, by giving to his relation to his Maker the appearance of friendship. Fear of the Lord, on the other hand, inclines him rather to look upon God in the character of a Judge. The one sanctifies the feeling of love, the other hallows the feeling of fear: and in the life of the soul there is room and need for both. Indeed, it may be said not unjustly that together they produce in the soul that instinct of reverence that is begotten of both.

Love that knows no reverence is not love at all, but passion; and fear that cannot climb to revere the object of our fear is altogether inhuman. So, too, from the opposite standpoint it can hardly be questioned that the chief obstacles that get in the way of our perfect service of God are the two characteristics of hardness and independence.

We do not respond to His appeals; the Passion and the ever-flowing love leave us cold because our hearts are so hardened by the interests and the cares of our daily life, and that deep respect that we owe to the Master of life becomes too often irritation at the way in which His commands cut across our pleasures. We object to the manner in which through His ministers we are told to do something that altogether revolts us—not because it is something very great, but because of its very pettiness. He treats us, we are often inclined to think, as though we were children. Fear of restraint is a natural instinct in men and animals.

ON THE DRY AND FRUITLESS SOUL

Reverence, then, suggests that there is needed in us somehow a feeling of tenderness towards God, a softening of the hardened edges of the soul, and, at the same time, a subjection, an avowal of our dependence on Him. The Holy Ghost is, then, to be considered as perfecting by means of these gifts even that borderland of man that lies between the purely reasonable and the purely sensual. The vague stretches of man’s consciousness are by the indwelling of the Spirit of God made at once responsive to the slightest communication from it.

Psychology in our own time has made its greatest progress by exploring all the really unknown lands that are in each of us. The phenomena that are produced by hypnotism and spiritualism are evidence of many other things, which are at present as closed to us as the regions of Tibet. But in this connection they explain to us how whatever lies beyond the influence or rather direction of reason and will must still be brought into subjection to the standard of Christ. We have, therefore, nothing to fear from the researches of professors, for they are but giving us opportunity for extending in our own souls the territory that must be handed back to Him who made it.

This communication and susceptibility to the movement of God is His work, not ours. The virtue must be added to the gift, must follow it as man’s contribution (not of course, to the exclusion of God) to the work of his salvation. It is not sufficient for me to feel this presence or to be conscious of the reverence due, but I must further add to it the love and fear of my heart embodied in action—namely, in thought, word, deed.

CONFIRMATION

ONCE AND FOR ALL AND ONLY ONCE

I will probably acknowledge that, to a very large extent, I have neglected to make use of this sacrament. Of course, I have received it, and I know well that it cannot be repeated. How, then, can I be held to blame for neglecting that which I have received just the one time that I can possibly receive it? To realize this, let me ask myself why it is that it can be received once only. The answer is naturally that thereby I receive a character or mark on my soul which can never be effaced. But what does all this mean? It means really that I cannot receive Confirmation more than once, for the simple reason that I have no need to repeat it. Once given, it is given for always, because the effects last as long as life lasts.

The grace of Communion may refresh me all my days, but the Presence fades. Absolution removes all my sins from me. They are forgiven for ever. But if unhappily, I fall again into sin, again must I approach this saving sacrament. With Confirmation, on the other hand, the sacramental grace perseveres till the end. Once I have been marked with the grace of Confirmation, I have had set up in my soul a power, a force, that never runs dry or can be drained or even wholly affected by sin. When I do wrong the grace ceases to work, but it does not cease to exist; so that as soon as I have reconciled myself to God, back again comes the flood that Confirmation for good and all established within me.

Hence the value of it does not consist simply in the day of my reception of it, but is to be made use of all the days of my life. The indwelling of the Spirit of God, begun in Baptism, is now made perfect, and the wonderful Sevenfold Gifts of God are put into my charge, so that with me it lies whether I have the benefit they can confer or not.

HEAL EACH WOUND AND BEND EACH WILL

But every sacrament has both an outward sign and an inward grace. What are these in Confirmation? First, the external thing, material instrument of God’s grace to my soul, is the anointing of my forehead by the Bishop with the consecrated oil. That is the essential outward sign. And the inward grace? Strength. In the East, oil, which is at once a food and a preservative of the skin, is in frequent use among athletes. It is, indeed, the source of the strength of the toilers and is mentioned in the Sacred Scriptures as the symbol of that which it helps to produce. Hence it is the external representation of that inner strength that the soul stands in need of.

Usually Confirmation is administered to children just when they stand upon the threshhold of life and are beginning to feel that there are many difficulties that they will have to overcome and endure, just when they are becoming conscious that life grows not easier, but harder. Can I remember that at that age I discovered that not everyone quite held with me about the duties owed to God and all that they entailed? I found that the things I held sacred, and the people that I had been taught to reverence, were now held up to my ridicule; and the things I had been afraid to do, afraid even to think about, were spoken of and done openly before me without shame. Even my own inclinations began suddenly to become more forcible, and unsuspected instincts and hidden forces I did not yet understand began to be felt and to give pleasure.

Thus the full practice of faith, hope, and love also in turn grew increasingly difficult to observe. Then I was confirmed, i.e. these tendencies were henceforth to be counteracted by the indwelling within me, not merely of grace, but of the very Spirit of God. He Himself was to take charge of my soul.

WARM OUR HEARTS BENUMBED AND CHILL

I have been taught, surely, that the object and effect of this sacrament was to make me strong, that this strengthening of me was to be achieved by the abiding Presence of the Holy Spirit, and that this abiding Presence was to continue for the whole of my lifetime. As the need endures, so must the remedy endure.

This sacrament, therefore, is tremendously alive, nor is it right that I should regard it, as perhaps I have often done in the past, as though it were some childish thing that had to be got over while I am quite young. Do I not find sometimes that people look on it much as they look on the measles as a normal heritage of children? But surely in my fuller age the need of divine strength increases rather than diminishes.

As a child I probably thought that I was only naughty because I was a child, but that when I grew up I supposed that I should find life the easier. Instead, I discovered that I looked back upon my childhood as the innocent time of my life, and looked upon my older years as necessarily years of wrongdoing, though perhaps I clung to the salve of conscience that in youth a man might be a little wild, but in his old age had time to become a saint. Thus it is always yesterday or tomorrow, never today; but Confirmation suddenly reminds me that it is now that God calls, and now that the Holy Ghost makes appeal to me to remember His presence and to make use of it.

Do I, indeed, think of that Presence in my times of stress? In the struggles of temptation do I sufficiently have recourse to that divine Helper given me? Do the Sevenfold Gifts really signify anything practical to me? Let me turn in devotion to the Holy Spirit, recite the hymns to Him, and be conscious always of the resident force pent up in my soul.

PRAYER TO THE HOLY GHOST

Come, O Holy Spirit, fill the hearts of Thy Faithful, and enkindle in them the fire of Thy love. V. Send forth Thy Spirit and they shall be created.

R. And Thou shalt renew the face of the earth.

Let us pray.

O God, who hast taught the hearts of the Faithful, by the light of the Holy Spirit, grant that by the gift of the same

SPIRIT WE MAY BE ALWAYS TRULY WISE AND EVER REJOICE IN HIS CONSOLATION. THROUGH CHRIST OUR LORD. R. AMEN

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Meditations On The Mysteries of The Rosary

R. J. MILLER; C.SS.R

INDEX

INTRODUCTION

The Rosary is the favorite prayer of heaven and earth. No other prayer has been recommended by Our Lady in her visitations from heaven to earth like the Rosary. No other prayer has been so frequently praised, commended, and even commanded by the Popes, or enriched by them with such great indulgences, as the Rosary.

We live in the age of the Rosary. The family rosary, the block rosary, the living rosary at solemn public functions are part and parcel of modern Catholic life. It has been estimated that there are at least twenty five million rosaries recited in the world every day.

Our Lady at Fatima urged the recitation of the Rosary for the conversion of sinners and for world peace. One way of reciting the rosary is to meditate on its mysteries. But it is sometimes difficult to know just how to go about this meditating. The following sketches have been prepared in an effort to fill this need. May Our Lord and His Immaculate Mother bless the effort, and help it to increase the effectiveness of the rosary, as it rises daily in a mighty stream from earth to heaven (“a Niagara in reverse,” it has been called,) for the salvation of souls and lasting world peace.

THE ANNUNCIATION

FIRST JOYFUL MYSTERY

Picture Our Lady at prayer at the little house in Nazareth. She is only twelve or thirteen years old, a child in innocence and simplicity; but in grace, she is incomprehensibly sublime. In externals she is a poor maiden, the spouse of the village carpenter; dressed in rough plain garments, alone in the homely surroundings of a very ordinary village dwelling. But in grace she is wealthy beyond the splendor of the highest angels.

Her housework is done, and she is now engaged in prayer. For what is she praying? Surely on this occasion she has been inspired by God to pray for the great event, the coming of the Messias, for which prophets and kings of the Jewish people had been beseeching God during many centuries. But her prayer, in the depth and richness and power of her fullness of grace, is the mightiest prayer that has ever gone up to God for the coming of the Redeemer.

And as she prays, there does come, from the mercy of God and in answer to her own longing, ardent supplication, a message from heaven. The Angel Gabriel enters the poor house of Nazareth to announce that her prayer, and the prayer of all the generations of Jewish believers, is heard at last.

But by God’s design, St. Gabriel will do more than announce the fact. He will also re quest her cooperation in its accomplishment. God has decreed to unite human nature to His divine nature in the sublime wedding of the Incarnation; and St. Gabriel is His ambassador come to request the consent of the maiden Mary to this wedding of the divine and the human in the Person of the Word of God. St. Gabriel represents God, the divine; and at this moment Our Lady represents the entire human race.

It is unthinkable that she should refuse; but it still is true that God condescended to make the Incarnation and our redemption dependent on her consent. And at the moment before she gave her consent all heaven was silent, breathlessly awaiting the word she would speak.

How shall this be done?

And St. Gabriel, whose name means “the power of God” replied:

The Holy Ghost shall come upon Thee, and the power of the most High shall overshadow Thee. And Mary said:

Behold the handmaid of the Lord: be it done unto me according to thy word.

And at that moment the Son of God became incarnate in her chaste womb.

THE VISITATION

SECOND JOYFUL MYSTERY

We can consider the mystery of the Visitation in three stages. The first is the revelation of the angel to Our Lady at Nazareth, which prompted her visit to her cousin St. Elizabeth. As a. sign of the truth of what he told Our Lady: “Thou shalt conceive in thy womb and bring forth a Son, and thou shalt call His name Jesus,” the Archangel Gabriel gave her this sign:”Behold Elizabeth thy Cousin hath also conceived a son in her old age, and she who was called barren is now in her sixth month; for nothing shall be impossible with God.” Our Lady’s generous heart was moved with joy at this unexpected good news about her cousin, over and above the joy and amazement she felt at her own sublime privilege; and she determined to set out at once to visit her cousin St. Elizabeth.

The second stage in the mystery is the journey itself. St. Luke says “she went with haste.” No doubt she told St. Joseph where she was going without, however, telling him exactly why (and we can ponder fondly on the details of that conversation, and the sacrifice it must have caused good St. Joseph). Then she set out on the long journey. From Nazareth to the home of Zachary and Elizabeth was a four-day trip by caravan. We can picture Our Lady either as joining some caravan which happened to be passing through Nazareth and heading towards “the hill country of Judea.” and how she spent the four days of the journey in the rough company of camel drivers and merchants; or else we can picture her as traveling alone- with all the hardships such a journey would entail.

The third stage in the mystery is the meeting of Our Lady and St. Elizabeth. “Their hopes were the hopes of the world,” says a gifted writer, speaking of that meeting. “Blessed art thou that hast believed,” says St. Elizabeth, knowing by divine inspiration what had happened to her cousin; and in the words we can find a reference to the sad condition of St. Zachary, her husband, who was “dumb and could not speak” because he had refused to believe the angel. Even St. John the Baptist, though still an infant in his mother’s womb, was given to recognize the approach of His Lord and Master, and announced His coming even then by leaping in his mother’s womb. And Our Lady replied with the sublime act of gratitude and joy which is her Magnificat:

My soul doth magnify the Lord; and my spirit hath rejoiced in God my Savior . . . For lo, from henceforth all generations shall call me blessed; because He that is mighty hath done great things to me.

THE BIRTH OF OUR LORD

THIRD JOYFUL MYSTERY

The birth of Our Lord in Bethlehem contains countless wonders for our admiring contemplation. Let us consider only the circumstances of the journey to Bethlehem, and some of the circumstances of His actual birth.

Our Lady’s time was near in Nazareth; no doubt she and the neighbor women had been making fond preparations for the coming of her First-born. Then one day St. Joseph came home from the market place with disquieting news. A messenger of the Roman Emperor had ridden into town and made a proclamation in the public square commanding that every man must go at once to his native city to be entered in the census.

Under the circumstances, it was a harsh command for Mary and Joseph, and worldly wisdom might have counselled delay, excuse, exemption. To their simple hearts, however, it was the command of lawful authority, and there was only one thing to do; obey.

We may ponder the objections raised by friends and neighbors, and the simple unassuming Insistence of Joseph and Mary on doing what they know to be their duty. We may follow them in our hearts as they make their preparations, as they set out and as they travel the long road in slow stages, by day and by night, to Bethlehem.

And in Bethlehem we may follow them as they try to find lodging and are put off at every door until finally St. Joseph finds refuge in the stable under the hill behind the town.

And then as the moment of the actual birth of Our Lord approaches, we may picture the scene in the cavern; the only light is from St. Joseph’s poor lantern on the floor: the ox and the ass are in the corner: St. Joseph on guard near the opening, and Our Lady kneeling in prayer.

And then as she kneels and prays, the Virgin Birth! At one moment, she kneels with hands joined, alone; the next moment, she has her Child in her arms. As after His Resurrection He was to come to His Apostles on Easter Sunday night, the doors being shut, so He came to His mother on Christmas night, passing from her chaste womb to her loving arms, the sacred door of her virginity unviolated still. No travail, no sorrow was hers when her time had come; only unmixed joyful tenderness that a man, the Man-God, her baby, was born into the world.

THE PRESENTATION

FOURTH JOYFUL MYSTERY

In meditating on the fourth joyful mystery, the Presentation of Our Lord in the temple at Jerusalem, we can consider first the reasons for this Jewish rite.

When Almighty God slew all the first-born in the land of Egypt, He spared the first-born of the Hebrews. But He still claimed them for His own, precisely because He had spared them. When the Hebrews left Egypt, He decreed that henceforth all the men of the tribe of Levi, first-born or otherwise, were to be dedicated to His service in the tabernacle or temple as priests instead of the first-born of each family of all the twelve tribes. The parents in each of the eleven other tribes, however, were to acknowledge in a special religious ceremony the fact that by rights their firstborn belonged to God and the Temple. This rite consisted in the “presentation” of the Child to God in the Temple, signifying the offering of certain gifts to God and the payment of certain sums of money, signifying that they were redeeming or buying back their first-born son from God for themselves.

Our Lord, of course, was not subject to this law. He was above all law; but He was particularly exempt from the law of presentation. There was no question of buying Him back from God in the deeper sense of the term, for He was inalienably God’s own Son. And while He was not to serve as a priest in the Temple of Jerusalem, He was by His very nature of God-man a priest, a bridge between God and man; He had been born and conceived a priest, and He would be a priest forever.

Our Lord, however, in His earthly life wished “to fulfill all justice.” So He said when He deigned to have St. John the Baptist baptize Him in the Jordan. In the same spirit He allowed St. Joseph and Our Lady to present Him in the Temple.

We can consider this mystery also from the viewpoint of Our Lady, especially as she stood in the Temple listening to holy Simeon prophesying about Our Lord as he held Him in his arm. Simeon had “blessed” St. Joseph and Our Lady, but then he went on to tell her:”Thine own soul a sword shall pierce.” It seems a strange, harsh thing for him to tell her after he had “blessed” her. It was harsh; none knew it better than she, the Mother of Sorrows. But she knew that her Baby was to grow up to be the Man of Sorrows and suffer the harsh death of the cross for the sins of the world. And even with her heart pierced by the sword of sorrow, she knewshe was “blessed” to he called to be the Mother of such a Son.

FINDING IN THE TEMPLE

FIFTH JOYFUL MYSTERY

This is a “joyful” my stery, but it involves sorrow too. The sorrow was that of Our Lady and St. Joseph when they realized they had lost Our Lord; it was also (and we should not fail to ponder this part of the mystery) the sorrow of Our Lord in being separated from His Motherand St. Joseph, even though it was His Father’s holy WI]]. The joy followed upon the sorrow and was in a way dependent upon it. It was the great joy that greets the end of painful and heart-rending separation.

Our Lady and St. Joseph had set out from Jerusalem on the return journey to Nazareth after the Paschal celebration. They traveled in a large caravan, in which the men were separated from the women. Hence Our Lady and St. Joseph were not together for the first part of the journey. And since the children sometimes traveled with the men and sometimes with the women, each of them thought Jesus was with the other. When they finally came together, they discovered to their dismay and grief that He was with neither. In fact, He was nowhere to be found; He had not been seen by any of their friends or kinsfolk since they left Jerusalem.

Picture the suspense and fear in the anxious inquiries they must have made of everyone they met in those three days: how they went through the entire caravan, then retraced their steps to Jerusalem, stopping at every likely place along the way, at toll-houses, publicans stalls, wayside inns, village wells, public squares, asking over and over the same eager, anxious question: “Have you seen a little Boy pass by this way?”

Picture Our Lord too during those three days in Jerusalem. The daytime He probably spent in the temple. But where did He spend the nights? And must not His human Heart, which was after all the Heart of a little Boy away from home and loved ones for the first time, have felt some of the pangs of loneliness and homesickness for the two persons He loved most on earth?

But finally the glad reunion came. Our Lady’s exclamation as she clasped her Son to her heart might seem at first sight a reproach, but it finally was nothing of the kind:

Son, why have You done so to us? Your father and 1 were so worried looking for You!

It was only a mother’s heart speaking out her relief in a mother’s way.

And Our Lord’s answer, while deep and mysterious, was no less full of joy and relief as He returned His Mother’s fond embrace. He was as much as saying: Didn’t you knowI”d be all right, and only some most important concern of My Father in heaven could have detained Me?

Did you not know I would have to be at My Father’s?

AGONY IN THE GARDEN

FIRST SORROWFUL MYSTERY.

He began to fear and to be heavy . . . My soul is sorrowful even unto death.

Let us consider what it was Our Lord feared in the agony in the garden. He feared the awful ordeal about to come upon Him: the contempt, abuse, malicious hatred; the reviling and spitting in His face; the spectacle of a wild mob thirsting for His own Blood, yelling fiercely: “Crucify Him, crucify Him!” He feared the scourging, the crowning with thorns, the terrible strain of the carrying of the cross. He shrank most of all from the prospect of death.

It was the shrinking of human nature from things hard for human nature. And as Our Lord had the perfect human nature, His shrinking was all the keener; in fact, it was the keenest that could possibly be felt in the face of things hard for human nature.

He feared also the contact with sin. Entering upon His Passion, He was taking upon Himself as the Lamb of God all the sins of the world. But as the all-Holy God the thing He detested and recoiled from more than anything else was sin. Yet in the garden He was permitting sin as it were to clothe Him with its foul stain from head to foot. It was to him as if He had been plunged in some vile cesspool of corruption. From this contact His human nature shrank in mortal fear.

So intense was His fear that it forced a bloody sweat from His pores which soaked His garments and ran down upon the ground. Only supreme mortal terror could produce so shocking an effect.

Lord, grant to us the grace of avoiding sin-by the fear that Thou didst feel for sin in the garden!

But Our Lord also was “sorrowful even unto death.” The prospect of a horrible death and the contact with vile sin caused Him to fear; the thought of the ingratitude of men caused Him to be “heavy and sad;” to be “sorrowful even unto death.” Any generous heart is saddened by ingratitude in proportion to the realization of the kindness that is being scorned. But Christ had the noblest nature of all, and His benefits to mankind were supreme. Hence the weight of sadness that pressed upon His Heart was the darkest sadness that ever weighed upon a human heart.

Lord, by Thy sadness in the garden, grant me the grace to be ungrateful to Thee no longer.

SCOURGING AT THE PILLAR

SECOND SORROWFUL MYSTERY

Twice Pilate had said: “I do not find Him guilty of anything.” But the mob continued clamoring for the death of Jesus: “Crucify Him! Crucify Him!” Then Pilate declared the third time: “I do not find Him guilty of anything! I will chastise Him, therefore,and let Him go!”

“Therefore . . .”The judge finds the Prisoner “not guilty,” and therefore he condemns Him to the brutal punishment of scourging! What a terrible miscarriage of justice!

That is the first reflection on this mystery of the scourging at the pillar. Our Lord allowed Himself to become the victim of mob rule, of calumny, of cowardly weakness on the part of a superior who should have defended Him. He wished to share here the sufferings of human beings who find themselves victims of similar injustice, and to give them the opportunity of ennobling their suffering by sharing it in turn with Him.

Then the scourging itself was a terrible shame and agony. Even the pagan Roman considered it so brutal that their law forbade it to be imposed on any Roman citizen. St. Paul was a Roman citizen, and once when he was condemned to be scourged, protested that it was illegal, and so escaped punishment.

But Our Lord, the King of Kings, allowed His subjects to impose this shame upon Him!

And then the agony of it! The Roman soldiers stripped Him and tied His hands around a pillar; then with leather thongs tipped with leaden balls they lashed Him until His sacred Body was covered from neck to knees with ugly, bleeding welts. This agony He suffered to atone for sins against the holy virtue of purity.

Lord, by the injustice, the shame, the torture of Thy scourging, teach me patience, humility, and holy purity!

CROWNING WITH THORNS

THIRD SORROWFUL MYSTERY.

There was far more than the crown of thorns to this sorrowful mystery.

“Stripping Him, they put a scarlet robe about Him.” His own clothes had been put on again after Our Lord’s scourging at the pillar. Now they were torn off once more, just when they were beginning to cling to His bloody flesh. What agony, and what shame before the mob of brutal soldiers!

Then some cast-off scarlet robe, some torn dirty doormat of a rag from a corner of the barracks yard, was roughly yanked down over His Head and pulled about Him. Great sport for the soldiers, but unspeakable agony for Our Lord’s Body which was one quivering wound.

“And platting a crown of thorns, they put it on His Head.” Wearing their heavy gloves the soldiers beat a bunch of thorny branches into some kind of helmet and clamped it down violently on His Head. The thorns pierced the skin, and the Blood began to flow.

“And a reed in His right hand.” A stout stick or branch of wood from the campfire nearby was stripped of foliage and thrust into His hand. Jesus did not let it fall, but held it obediently, even when the soldiers let out a guffaw of derision at the sight.

“And bowing the knee before Him, they mocked Him, saying: Hail, King of the Jews!” This was great sport for the soldiers. Each sought to outdo the others in mocking buffoonery: “Hail, King of the Jews!” Bowing, genuflecting with mock solemnity, then falling back to roar with laughter at the meek Fool before them.

“And spitting upon Him.” This was the outrage Our Lord had often mentioned in predicting His Passion, as though He shrank from it with particular horror.”The Son of Man shall be spit upon . . .” His sacred Countenance became the object of a very deluge of foulness which our minds almost refuse to contemplate.

“They took the reed and struck His Head.” It was not enough that the thorns were drawing blood already. Down rained the heavy blows to drive them deeper still. Our Lord must have been fairly blinded with pain as each rocking blow fell upon Him; but He made no protest. When one soldier finished His brutal work and handed the reed back to Him, He held it again while the crowd roared with mocking laughter, until another seized it to strike Him again.

Jesus, meek and humble of Heart, make our hearts like unto Thine!

CARRYING OF THE CROSS

FOURTH SORROWFUL MYSTERY.

It was Roman law that condemned criminals had to carry their own cross to the place of crucifixion. In Our Lord’s case, this was a special cruelty because of His extremely weak condition.

As He staggered along on the way of the cross, He verified the prediction of the prophet:

We have seen Him and there was no beauty in Him: He was contemptible and the least of men. He chose in His incomprehensible love and humility actually to look the part of a bedraggled, beaten, dying criminal suffering the penalty of his crimes. Only it was not His crimes but ours that He was carrying with the cross. And in doing o He was giving the inspiration to carry our own cross with patience and resignation.

“Jesus, carrying my cross for me, help me to carry mine with Thee!”

His meeting with His holy Mother must have been heart-rending for them both. The sight of a loved one suffering is harder than to suffer oneself. What was the consolation they could give each other? No human consolation, surely; only the conviction they shared that this was God’s holy Will for them both, and the hope that in losing each other they would find us poor sinners converted and returned to their love.

“Jesus and Mary, separated for love of us. grant that we may never be separated from you!

In His meeting with “the daughters of Jerusalem” Our Lord revealed His divine supremacy over suffering. These good women were giving vent to their compassion for His sad state and it would have been easy for anyone else to let his thoughts be filledmore than ever with his own sufferings. Instead, Our Lord’s generous Heart was moved to think not of His own fate, but of the trouble to come upon the women themselves.”Weep not for Me, but for yourselves!”

Jesus, ever thinking of me, let me think less of myself and more of Thee; let me pity myself less, and learn to pity Thee, and grow to love Thee ever more and more!

THE CRUCIFIXION

FIFTH SORROWFUL MYSTERY.

The physical agony of the cross consisted not so much in the fact that nails pierced the hands and feet, as that the nails pierced living nerves in the hands, and the criminal was suspended by the nails through these nerves. Any one who has had the experience in an accident or in medical or dental treatment of having a living nerve touched ever so lightly can faintly imagine what this torture must have been for Our Lord. Indeed, physicians who have tried to determine the exact cause of Our Lord’s Death trace it to this fact of being suspended by nails or spikes through living nerves. The result, they say, was a series of agonizing muscular spasms, first in the lower arms, then in the upper arms, then the shoulders, the chest; and finally around the heart until He died in a convulsion of agony around His Heart; literally died of pain!

Jesus, dying of pain for me, teach me to suffer patiently for Thee!

The mental sufferings of Our Lord on the cross were even more terrible. “My God, my God, why hast Thou forsaken Me?” was the expression of this mental suffering. On Mount Tabor His Father had said from heaven: “This is My beloved Son, in Whom I am well pleased!” And the love that breathed in those words was greater than ever beat in the heart of a mother bending over the crib of her little child; greater, infinitely greater than the love of all mothers of all time for their little children.

Yet on Calvary, when Our Lord was laden with the sins of the world, with our sins, and looked up to heaven to that same Father, heaven was blank; and if He heard a voice, it was the stern relentless voice of divine justice; “For the sins of My people1 have struck Him!” Incomprehensible is this mystery of what sin could do even to the relation of love between God the Father and God the Son; but for us it can surely mean:

Jesus, abandoned even by Thy Father for my sins, help me to abandon all sin for Thee!

RESURRECTION OF OUR LORD

FIRST GLORIOUS MYSTERY.

The Holy Gospels do not describe the actual resurrection of Our Lord. Instead, they relate how after He had arisen and left the tomb empty, an angel with a face “like lightning” came down from heaven to roll away the stone from the empty tomb; and when he touched the earth, there was “a great earthquake.”

But Our Lord’s resurre ction must have been a glorious moment for Himself and all heaven, even if this world saw nothing of it. Picture His mangled corpse motionless and lifeless beneath its winding sheet on a ledge inside the tomb that early Easter morning. Of a sudden the dark silent chamber is filled with light; there is a quiver and a thrill beneath the winding sheet; and the next morning Our Lord is standing in the middle of the little room, aflush, brilliant, divinely alive with beauty and vitality everlasting. Then by His own power, He begins to rise and passes without an effort straight through the stone roof of the tomb, victorious and free forever.

He rose by His own power; but this glorious victory over death was also something He deserved , something He had prayedto obtain, He deserved it by His humble submission to His Father’s Will: “He humbled Himself, becoming obedient unto death, even to the death of the cross; and for this reason God raised Him up and gave Him a name that is above every name.” And He prayed for it during His earthly life; among other occasions, when in the Garden of Olives He said: “Father, if it be possible, let this chalice pass from Me; yet not as I will, but as Thou wilt.” It was not His Father’s will, however, that He be freed from drinking the chalice of obedience even to the death of the cross; but rather that having drunk it, He be raised up to the glory which His humility and obedience deserved. And His prayer: “Not as I will, but as Thou wilt,” though coming after His other petition, was no mere pious formality. He meant it, positively and wholeheartedly, as much as He meant His petition to be delivered from “the chalice.” And when on Easter Sunday His Father’s Will was actually accomplished in His glorious resurrection from the dead, it was only the answer to His generous pleading: “Not as I will, but as Thou wilt.”

Lord, enable us to pray as You did, with confidence that Your Father’s Will is full of love for us and has designs of glory to fulfill in us; and grant that praying in this way, we may learn in our sufferings to share Your passion and cross, that we may thus come to share the glory of Your resurrection.

ASCENSION OF OUR LORD

SECOND GLORIOUS MYSTERY

Our Lord did not go to heaven alone on Ascension Thursday. He carried with Him a vast throng of Saints who had been waiting in Limbo for many long years, some of them for long centuries, until this happy day. It was Our Lord’s own privilege and pleasure to throw open to them this day the blessed gates of heaven.

At the same ti me He opened heaven also for all men. At the Last Supper He had said to His Apostles: “In My Father’s house there are many mansions . . . I go to prepare a place for you.”

Thus the mystery of the Ascension is a mystery of hope. It assures us that if we are generous with our dear Lord, repent of our sins and die in His grace, heaven is open to us after this life; and if we are completely generous and strive to avoid all sin, we shall go straight from this earth to heaven without any delay. What a sublime prospect He has put before us in the mystery of the Ascension!

But it is also a mystery of love.At the Last Supper Our Lord had a gentle reproof for the Apostles: “You heard that I told you: I am going away, and then coming back to you again. If you love me, you would be glad that I am going to The Father.” Our Lord’s “going away” in the Ascension meant the final end of His time as Redeemer on earth. It meant that His days of suffering, humiliation, opposition were over at last. The time had come when He was to go, to ascend from earth. to heaven, and enjoy glory and delight everlasting with His Father.

To those who truly love Him, this divinely happy ending of the story of His days on earth, and all the sufferings and heartaches they had brought Him should have meant that they too were glad for His sake, even though they grieved to see Him go. But the Apostles at the Last Supper had not seined to be thinking of what Our Lord’s going away would mean for Him, but only what it meant for them. And that is the reason why He addressed to them His gentle reproof.

Lord, we trust in Your glorious Ascension as the mystery that opens heaven to us too. We confidently place our hope in this mystery and have certain expectation that one day we too shall pass happily through the blessed gates of Paradise and enter upon joy everlasting. And in our love of You, even now while we linger and still struggle along the way of the cross ourselves, we are glad indeed that Your way of the cross is over, and that nothing can hurt You any more; we rejoice with You and for You in Your glorious Ascension.

DESCENT OF THE HOLY GHOST

THIRD GLORIOUS MYSTERY.

The descent of the Holy Ghost on Pentecost Sunday marked the end of the first “novena” in the Catholic Church.

Before Our Lord ascended into heaven on Ascension Thursday, He had told the Apostles not to leave Jerusalem, but to wait there for the fulfillment of the promises He had made them about the coming of the Holy Ghost.

With joyful confidence in this promise, the Apostles gathered in the same upper room where they had celebrated the Last Supper with Our Lord, and there “with Mary the Mother of Jesus and His brethren” they “were persevering with one mind in prayer.” And they prayed for nine days from Ascension Thursday to Pentecost Sunday; in other words, they made the first “novena” in the Catholic Church.

In this regard, they have had countless imitators down through the ages of the history of the Church; for without attempting to put any special value on the number nine itself, it is very natural for Catholics to feel that-if they must put a term to their prayers, and stop at some number, surely they have a blessed precedent in that first great novena in the Upper Room of Jerusalem.

And in another way, we often find ourselves at our own prayers to be in a very similar attitude to that of the Apostles before Pentecost.

What they were really praying for during those ninedays was “to be made worthy of the promises of Christ.” They hardly knew as yet just what those promises meant. Indeed, just shortly before His Ascension some of them asked Him if His promises meant that He was on the point of “restoring the kingdom of Israel.” In other words, they seemed to think that the answer to their prayers would be the taking over of earthly, worldly power by Our Lord.

But when the answer to their novena of praying really came on Pentecost Sunday, turned out to be something very different, but something far more wonderful, than the Apostles expected. Instead of mere earthly favours, which would have passed away in time, Pentecost brought them gifts and graces everlasting: confirmation in grace; the understanding of the true meaning of the kingdom of God; the gift of tongues; and all the extraordinary distinctions that went with being Apostles of Jesus Christ.

All this they had been praying for in their perfect trust of Our Lord,during their “novena,” even though they did not realize it. So we too, in our own novenas, offer the most fervent prayers to God, without at times realizing the great things Our Lord or Our Lady really want to grant us through our prayer, that we really are praying for.

Lord, grant that in our prayers we may trust You perfectly, as the Apostles and Our Lady did in the first novena before Pentecost, that wemay be made truly “worthy of the promises of Christ.”

ASSUMPTION OF OUR LADY

FOURTH GLORIOUS MYSTERY.

The mystery of the Assumption really contains two: the mystery of Our Lady’s holy death, and that of the resurrection of her body by its being reunitedwith her soul, and taken up, or “assumed” into heaven.

The mystery of Our Lady’s death is a mystery of love. She died rather of love and longing than of any disease, so say the Saints. And indeed she had reason to be “longing.” For twenty years or more after Our Lord’s Ascension, she had remained on earth; and it is a mystery how Our Lord could have left her there so long. Without Him, all the world was a barren, bitter desert to her; and even to Him in heaven with His great love for His Mother, we might almost say, heaven must have seemed empty until she was there.

Yet, He left her on earth for those twenty I long years. He must have had a very good reason for doing so, but to us it a mystery. Still, mystery or not, it is a great source of consolation to us in our lonely hours or days or years to remember the loneliness of Our Lady during her twenty lonely years, and to think that she understands perfectly just how we feel.

The mystery of her Assumption is also a mystery of extraordinary and miraculous gratitude on the part of her Divine Son in return for what she did for Him and the human race in giving her consent to His Incarnation. Out of her chaste flesh by the Power of the Holy Ghost, she supplied the Body He wished to assume, and the Blood He wished to shed for human redemption. He might have become her Son without asking her consent; but He did deign to make it dependent of her cooperation. She gave her consent and cooperation most generously even though she knew it would involve untold suffering and heartbreak for herself. And in grateful return, He disposed with the ordinary law of “Dust thou art, and into dust thou shalt return” in her case, and raised her up very soon after her death, body and soul to heaven.

Dear Lady, in our lonely hours, help us to be patient and conformed to God’s holy Will as you were; and in the suffering or even heartbreak that God may ask of us, help us to remember that He is infinitely grateful.

CORONATION OF OUR LADY

FIFTH GLORIOUS MYSTERY.

Our Lady’s coronation in heaven marks an end and a beginning in her great part in God’s work of human redemption.

It is the “happy ending” of the story of her life on earth. That story might have seemed externally very much like the lives of many other housewives and mothers, occupied with the humdrum routine tasks of cooking, sweeping, sewing day after day; seeing her husband die and her Son leave home for His life work; and marked out as extraordinary only by the tragic heartbreaking execution of that Son on a malefactor’s gibbet. But inwardly, there was the suspense and grandeur of an absorbing drama, or rather of a great “love story;” the story of the love of Mary for Jesus, and of Jesus and Mary for the souls of men. That love story meant for Mary longing, striving, suffer ing; great hopes and terrible trials; death, dreary separation, long years of waiting. But with her coronation in heaven the sad period of trial and separation was over, and “they lived happily ever after.”

And her coronation was also the beginning of her work of bringing happiness to heaven and earth and purgatory. Heaven with all its angels and saints was to find in her a constant source of admiration and heavenly joy; her beauty, her perfection in every feature and line, every action, every characteristic, was to ravish the angels and saints forever. Earth with its sinners and its suffering mortals was to rejoice in her as its “life, its sweetness, its hope.” Even purgatory was to receive the benefit of happiness from her, for as the Saints say, she was to descend to purgatory especially on her great feast days and release and relieve countless poor souls.

Dear Lady, crowned Queen of angels and saints in heaven, we rejoice in the happy ending of your own love story, in seeing that you and your dear Son “live happily ever after,” and we pray that some day through your power as our Queen and your tenderness as our Mother, we too may share that joy of living happily with you and Jesus forever!

Imprimi Potest John N. McCormick, C.SS.R. Provincial. St. Louis Province,

Redemptorist Fathers

Feb. 27. 1957

Imprimatur:

St. Louis. March 4, 1957 Joseph E. Ritter

Archbishop of St. Louis

********

Meditations On The Passion of Our Lord

ST. ALPHONSUS LIGUORI

INDEX

FOREWORD

Three great devotions sanctified the long life of St. Alphonsus-devotion to Our Lord in His Passion, in the Holy Eucharist, and devotion to His Immaculate Mother. These three devotions the holy doctor not only practised, but constantly recommended to others both by voice and pen.

In the latest edition of the saint’s ascetical works, a volume of 488 large pages was needed to reproduce and annotate his writings on the Passion. The present little work counts only a dozen pages of this large volume, but it contains most of the favourite thoughts and prayers of the saint.

“The crown of prayer is the worship of God through the subjection of our passions,” wrote Father Faber, and in this sentence he struck a characteristic note of the prayers of St. Alphonsus: they seek the true worship of God by the subjection of pride and sensuality and other passions ever quivering within the weak framework of human nature. However holy a soul may be, or however lacking in holiness, it will find the prayers of St. Alphonsus suitable to its needs. And the prayers of this booklet are no exception.

THE PRAYERS OF THIS BOOK ARE WRITTEN FOR SINNERS-AND FOR SAINTS

THE PASSION OF JESUS CHRIST*

CHAPTER I. THE POWER OF MEDITATION ON THE PASSION TO ENKINDLE DIVINE LOVE IN THE SOUL

The great servant of God, Father Balthassar Alvarez, used to say: “We must not suppose that we have made any progress in the way that leads to God until we keep Jesus Crucified ever in our hearts.” And St. Francis de Sales wrote: “The love which is not the fruit of the Passion is feeble.” And so it is; for we can have no more pressing motive for loving God than the Passion of Jesus Christ, in which we learn that the Eternal Father, in order to make manifest the exceeding love which He had for us, sent on earth His only begotten Son to die for us sinners. Hence the Apostle wrote that God, through the too great love wherewith He loved us, willed that the death of His Son should bring life to us: For exceeding charity wherewith He loved us, even when we were dead in sins, hath quickened us together in Christ. (Eph. ii. 4.) And it was in like terms Moses and Elias expressed themselves on Mount Thabor when speaking of the Passion of Jesus Christ, not knowing how to describe it otherwise than to call it an excess of love: And they spoke of His excess which He should consummate in Jerusalem. (Luke ix. 31.)

When our Saviour came into the world to die for men, the shepherds heard the angels sing: Glory to God on high. But the Son of God, humbling Himself thus in becoming man for the love of man, seemed to obscure rather than to manifest the divine glory; but no; there was no means better adapted to manifest the glory of God to the world than the death of Jesus Christ for the salvation of mankind, since the Passion of our Blessed Lord has made manifest the attributes of God.

It has made known to us the greatness of the Mercy of God, inasmuch as He was willing to die to save sinners, and to die in the Most painful and ignominious manner. “The sufferings of Jesus Christ,” says St. John Chrysostom, “ were not ordinary sufferings, nor was His death a simple death like that of other men.”

It has also made known to us the Wisdom of God. Had our Redeemer been only God, He could not have made satisfaction for man, and God could not have made satisfaction to Himself in place of man, nor could He make satisfaction by way of suffering. On the other hand, had He been merely man, He could not have made satisfaction to God for the grievous injury done by man to the Divine Majesty. What, then, did God do? He sent His own Son, true

*The reader is urged to read the great Christian thoughts which follow in these pages, and the prayers which accompany them, very slowly, letting them sink deeply into the heart. Otherwise the reading will profit him but little. -Editor’s Note.

God with the Father, to take human flesh, so that as Man, by dying might pay the debt due to divine justice, and, as God, might make to it full satisfaction. The Passion has, moreover, made known how strict is the Justice of God. According to Saint John Chrysostom, it is not so much in hell that the strictness of divine justice is seen; it is revealed rather in seeing Jesus on the Cross; for in hell creatures are punished for sins of their own, while on the Cross we see a God cruelly treated to make satisfaction for the sins of men. And what obligation had Jesus to die for us? None: He was offered because it was His own will. (Isaias liii. 7.) He might have, with justice, abandoned man to perdition; but the love which He had for us, would not allow Him to see us lost; therefore He chose to give Himself up to so painful a death, that He might save us: He hath loved us and hath delivered Himself for us. (Eph. v. 2.)

God had from all eternity loved man: I have loved thee with an everlasting love. (Jer. Xxxi. 3) But afterwards seeing that His justice obliged Him to condemn man and to keep him ever at a distance from Him and in hell, His mercy urged Him to find a way by which He might save him. But how? By making satisfaction to divine justice by His own death. And, consequently He willed that the condemnation to eternal death which man had merited should have been fixed to that very Cross on which He died, that thus it might be cancelled in His blood: Blotting out the writing of the decree that was against us, which was contrary to us, He hath taken the same out of the way, fastening it to the Cross. (Col. ii. 14.) Thus, by the merits of His own blood, He pardoned all our sins: Forgiving you all offences (Ibid.) At the same time He deprived the devils of the rights which they had acquired over us, carrying with Him in His triumph both His enemies and ourselves whom He had delivered, and who were till then the prey of the devils: And despoiling the principalities and powers, He hath exposed them confidently in open show, triumphing over them in Himself. (Col. ii. 15.) Theophylactus thus explains these words: “As a triumphant conqueror He carries with Him in His triumph the booty and the enemy.”

Hence, while making satisfaction to divine justice as He died on the Cross, Jesus spoke only of mercy. He prayed His Father to have mercy even on the Jews who had brought about His death, and on the murderers who were putting Him to death: Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do. (Luke xxiii. 34.) While on the Cross instead of punishing the two thieves who at first reviled Him, on hearing one ask for mercy (Lord, remember me when Thou shalt come into Thy kingdom) (Luke xxiii. 42), He promised him Paradise that very day: This day thou shalt be with Me in Paradise. (Mark xv. 43.) There on Calvary, before He expired, He gave to us, in the person of St. John, His own Mother to be our Mother. There from the Cross He declares Himself content to have done all for our salvation, and now He makes perfect the sacrifice by His death: Afterwards Jesus, knowing that all things were now accomplished . . . said: It is consummated. And bowing His head, He gave up the ghost. (John xix. 28. 30.)

Behold by the death of Jesus, man is freed from sin and from the power of the devil; he is, moreover, raised to a life of grace, and to a higher degree of grace than that which Adam lost: And where sin abounded, says St. Paul, grace did more abound. (Rom. v. 20.) And now, therefore, it is for us, according to the same Apostle, to have recourse frequently and with all confidence to this throne of grace, for such indeed is Jesus crucified, that we may, through His mercy, obtain the grace to save our souls, together with the help we need to overcome the temptations of the world and of hell: Let us go therefore with confidence to the throne of grace: that we may obtain mercy, and find grace in seasonable aid. (Heb. iv. 16.)

Ah. my Jesus, I love Thee above all things, and whom shall I ever love if I love not Thee, Who art infinite goodness, and Who hast died for me? Would that I could die of grief often as I think how I have driven Thee from my soul by my sins, and thus separated myself from Thee. Who art my only good, and Who hast loved me so much. Who shall separate me from the charity of Christ? (Rom. viii. 35.) It is sin and sin only that can separate me from Thee. But I hope in the blood Thou hast shed for me, that Thou wilt never again allow me to separate myself from Thy love, and lose Thy grace, which I value more than all else in this world. I give my whole self to Thee.

CHAPTER II WHAT THE PASSION OF JESUS CHRIST REQUIRES OF US

PERHAPS Jesus claims too much in expressing His desire that we give ourselves entirely to Him because He has given us all His blood and His life by dying for us on the Cross? The apostle answers: The charity of Christ presseth us. (Cor. ii. 5, 14.) Listen to St. Francis de Sales’ explanation of these words: “To know that Jesus has loved us unto death, even to the death of the Cross, is not this to feel our hearts constrained by a certain violence, which is all the greater because it is full of love?” And he adds: “My Jesus gives Himself entirely to me; and I give myself entirely to Jesus. On His bosom I will live and die; neither death nor life shall ever separate me from Him.”

It was for this purpose, says St. Paul, that Jesus Christ died, that each one of us should no longer live for the world, nor for himself; but only for Him Who hath given Himself entirely to us: And Christ died for all: that they who live may not now live to themselves, but unto Him who died for them. (2 Cor. v. 15) He who lives for this world seeks to please the world; he who lives for himself seeks to please himself; but he who lives for Jesus seeks only to please Jesus, and fears only to displease Him; his joy is to see Jesus loved, his sorrow to see Him despised. This is to live for Jesus Christ; and this is what He claims from each one of us. I ask again, does He claim too much from us, seeing that He has given us His blood and His life?

O my God, how is it then that we use our hearts to love creatures, relations, friends, the great ones of the world, who have suffered for us neither scourges, nor thorns, nor nails, nor have they shed for us one drop of blood. Why not use our hearts to love a God who came down from heaven and became man and shed all His blood for us under the pressure of torments, and finally died of grief on the Cross, to win to Himself the love of these very hearts? And this is not all. Besides dying for us, He, in order to unite Himself more closely to us, left Himself on our altars, where He makes Himself one with us, that thereby we may understand how ardent is the love which He bears us. “He has united Himself to us,” cries out St. John Chrysostom, “that we may be one with Him; for this is the desire of those who ardently love.” And St. Francis de Sales speaking of Holy Communion, adds: “There is no action in which we can consider our Saviour more loving or more tender than in this, in which He, as it were, annihilates Himself, reducing Himself to food in order to unite Himself to the hearts of the faithful.”

But how comes it, O my Lord, that having received from Thee so many proofs of the most tender love, I should, nevertheless, have had the heart to despise Thee? And with this Thou dost justly reproach me: I have nourished and brought up children, and they have despised me. (Isaias i. 2.) How could I have turned my back upon Thee to follow the bent of my wicked inclinations? How could I have driven Thee from my soul? The wicked have said to God: Depart from us. (Job xxi. 14.) How could I have afflicted Thy heart which loved me so much? But what am I now to do? Must I cease to hope in Thy mercy? Ah no! O my Saviour, would that I had died a thousand times rather than that I had over offended Thee! O Lamb of God! Thou didst bleed to death on the Cross to wash away our sins. O my Jesus, have pity on me and pardon me; but Thou knowest my weakness, take then my whole will that it may never more rebel against Thee. Drive out of my heart all love which is not for Thee. The God of my heart, and the God that is my portion forever. (Psalm lxxii. 26.)

O Little Sheep, beloved of God (it is thus Pecorella, that St. Theresa used to call the Blessed Virgin), Mother of the Divine Lamb, recommend me to thy Son: thou art, after Jesus, my hope, since thou art the hope of sinners. In thy hands I place my salvation. Spes nostra, salve.

CHAPTER III. LOVING CONVERSE OF A SOUL WITH JESUS CRUCIFIED

1. SUFFERINGS OF JESUS ON THE CROSS

JESUS on the Cross! Oh, stupendous sight for heaven and for earth of mercy and of love! To behold the Son of God die through pain on an infamous gibbet, condemned as a malefactor to so painful and shameful a death in order to save sinful men from the punishment which they had merited!

This sight has been and ever will be the contemplation of the saints; it has led them to renounce willingly all the goods of this earth, and to embrace, with heroic courage, sufferings and death in order to make themselves pleasing to a God who died for their love. The sight of Jesus so despised in having been placed between two thieves has made them love contempt more than worldlings have loved the honours of the world. Beholding Jesus covered with wounds on the Cross, they have turned away with horror from the pleasures of sense, and afflicted their bodies in order to unite their sufferings to the sufferings of Him Who was crucified for them. In contemplating the patience with which our Saviour died, they have accepted with joy the most painful forms of illness and the most cruel torments of tyrants. Finally, from beholding the love of Jesus Christ shown in the willing sacrifice which He made of His life for us in a sea of sufferings, they have sacrificed to Him all that they had- property, children, and even life itself.

St. Paul, speaking of the love which the Eternal Father bore us, when He saw us dead through sin and willed to restore us to life by sending His own Son to die for us, calls this too great a love: But God (who is rich in mercy), for His exceeding charity wherewith He loved us, even when we were dead in sins, hath quickened us together in Christ. (Eph. ii. 4. 5.) In like manner we ought to call the love wherewith Jesus willed to die for us too great a love. Hence, the same Apostle writes: We preach Christ crucified, unto the Jews indeed a stumbling- block, and unto the Gentiles foolishness. (1 Cor. i. 23.) The death of Jesus on the Cross, according to St. Paul, appeared a stumbling- block to the Jews, because they expected Him to appear on earth full of worldly majesty, and not as one condemned to die as a criminal on the Cross. On the other hand, it seemed to the Gentiles folly that God should be willing to die, and such a death, for His creatures. Hence, St. Laurence Justinian has daringly explained: “ We have seen wisdom itself infatuated through excessive love! “

And in truth, does it not seem folly that God who is Almighty and infinitely happy in Himself should be willing of His own accord to be scourged, treated as a mock king, buffeted, spat upon in the face, condemned as a malefactor, abandoned by all and left to die on a Cross of shame to save miserable worms He Himself had created? Considering these things, the enamoured St. Francis, as he went through the country, wept and exclaimed, “ Love is not loved! Love is not loved! “ Hence St. Bonaventure said that he who wishes to persevere in loving Jesus Christ should ever represent to himself his divine Lord hanging on the Cross and dying for him: “Let him ever have before the eyes of his heart Christ dying on the Cross.”

Oh! happy the soul that frequently puts itself in spirit in the presence of Jesus dying on the Cross, and remains there to contemplate with tender affection the pains which Jesus suffered, and the love with which He offered Himself to His Father as He lay agonizing on that bed of sorrow. Souls full of God’s love, when hard pressed by temptations of the devil, and by fears for their eternal salvation, derive great comfort from considering in silence, and all alone, Jesus hanging on the Cross and shedding blood from all His wounds. At the sight of Jesus crucified all desire of the goods of this world leaves us, and there comes from this Cross a breath of heavenly air which causes us to forget the things of earth, and enkindles within us a desire to quit all in order to use the affections of our hearts only to love that Lord Who was pleased to die for love of us.

Isaias foretold that our Redeemer would be a man of sorrows: And we have seen Him . . . despised and the most abject of men, a man of sorrows. (Isa. liii. 2, 3.) If, then, you wish to behold this man of sorrows, foretold by Isaias, look at Jesus dying on the Cross: there, behold His hands and feet nailed, and the whole weight of His body pressing on the wounds; behold all His members wounded and suffering, causing Him bitter and continual torment. Wherever He turns He finds no relief; His sufferings increase more and more till at last they deprive Him of life: because this man of sorrows is condemned by His Father to die of sheer sorrow to atone for our sins.

O my Jesus! what Christian, knowing by faith that Thou hast died on the Cross for love of him, can live without loving Thee! Pardon me, my Lord, first of all, this great sin, to have lived so many years without loving ‘Thee. O my dear Saviour, death fills me with fear, thinking that it is then I shall have to give an account of all the offences I have committed against Thee; but the blood which I see flowing from Thy wounds gives me hope of Thy pardon, and hope that Thou wilt at the same time give me grace to love Thee for the future with my whole heart, and this in virtue of the merit which Thou hast acquired with so much suffering. I give myself entirely to Thee; I do not wish to be any longer my own; I wish to do and to suffer all that pleases Thee.

2. DEATH OF JESUS

Father, into Thy hands I commend My spirit. These words, uttered by Jesus on the Cross when on the point of expiring, bring much comfort to the dying in their last combat with hell, when about to pass into eternity.

O my beloved Jesus! I do not wish to wait till the hour of my death to recommend my soul to Thee; from this very moment I recommend my soul to Thee. By the precious blood which Thou hast shed for me, permit not that my soul be ever separated from Thee. Henceforth I desire to be Thine, all Thine, without reserve. O my Jesus! in Thy lacerated flesh, torn by scourges, by thorns, by nails, I recognise the burning love Thou halt borne me, and the ingratitude of which I have been guilty towards Thee; but Thy blood is my hope. Wretch that I am, how often have I not renounced Thy grace, and by my own acts condemned myself to hell! What would have become of me if Thou hadst not chosen to die for me? Would that I could die of grief as often as I think of my conduct in having despised Thy infinite goodness. But never shall this be again; from this day forward, aided by Thy grace, I leave everything; it is enough for me to be united to Thee, my God and my all!

O men, O men! how can you show such contempt for a God who suffered so much for you? Behold Him on the Cross sacrificing Himself by death to atone for your sins, and to win your affections. O my Jesus! I do not wish to live any longer ungrateful for such goodness. O wounds of Jesus! wound me with love). O blood of Jesus! inebriate me with love! O death of Jesus! make me die to every affection which is not for Thee! in mercy receive me, do not drive me from Thee, now that I give myself to Thee without reserve.

Behold, finally, how our Saviour on the Cross, weighed down with sorrow and pain, bows His head and dies; And bowing His bead, He gave up the ghost. (John xix. 30.)

O Eternal Father! I, a wretched creature, have dishonoured Thee by my wicked life; but Jesus Christ in making satisfaction for me by His death, has fully restored Thy honour.

O Jesus, my Saviour, I see Thee now dead on the Cross; Thou no longer speakest; Thou breathest no more, because Thou art dead; having willed to lose Thy life to save our souls. There is no longer any blood in Thy veins, because Thou hast shed it all to wash away our sins. In a word, Thou hast given Thyself up to death through love for us: He hath loved us, and hath delivered Himself for us. (Eph. v. 2.) “Ah! why do we not, in spirit,” says St. Francis de Sales, “throw ourselves upon Him to die with Him on that Cross on which He willed to die for love of us. I will hold Him, we ought to say, and I will never let Him go; I will die with Him, and be set on fire by the flames of His love. One and the same fire shall consume the Divine Creator and His miserable creature. My Jesus is all mine, and I am all His. I will live and die pressed to His bosom; neither death nor life shall ever separate me from Him.”

Yes, my sweet Redeemer, I embrace with tenderness Thy pierced feet, and, full of confidence in seeing Thee dead for love of me, and I love Thee with my whole soul. At the foot of Thy Cross, I give to Thee, and leave to Thee, my heart and my will; nail Thou, Thyself, my heart to this Cross, so that it may never be separated from Thee, and may have no other desire than to please Thee.

3. FRUITS OF THE DEATH OF JESUS CHRIST

We read in the Gospel of St. John, that our divine Saviour, in order to make known to His disciples the death He was to suffer on the Cross, said to them: And I, if I be lifted up from the earth, will draw all things to myself. (Now this He said, signifying what death He should die.) (John, xii. 32, 33.) And, in effect, by showing Himself thus crucified and dead on the Cross, how many souls has not Jesus drawn to Himself, so that they have abandoned all and have given themselves entirely to His love. Ah! my Jesus. draw also to Thyself my soul, which at one time was lost to Thee; draw it by the chains of love, so that it may forget the world to think of nothing but of loving and pleasing Thee: Draw me: we will run after Thee to the odour of Thy ointments. (Cant. i. 3.) O my Lord, Thou knowest my weakness and the offences which I have committed against Thee. Take possession of all my affections, so that I may occupy myself only with what pleases Thee, my God, most worthy of all in love. Hear me, O Jesus! through the merits of Thy death, and make me all Thine own.

St. Leo tells us that he who looks with confidence on Jesus dead on the Cross is healed of the wounds inflicted by his sins: “Those who with faith look on Jesus dead on the Cross are healed from the wounds of sin.” This is why every Christian should constantly keep before his eyes Jesus crucified, and say with St. Paul: I judged not myself to know anything among you, but Jesus Christ, and Him crucified. (1 Cor. ii. 2.) From which words it is clear that the Apostle did not desire any other knowledge in this world than that of knowing how to love Jesus crucified.

My beloved Saviour, to obtain for me a good death Thou hast chosen one so full of suffering and desolation! I cast myself unreservedly into the arms of Thy mercy. Thou hast called me to penance, and, I hope, hast pardoned me; but if, through my own fault, Thou hast not yet pardoned. ah! pardon me now. I repent, O my Jesus! of having ever turned my back upon Thee, and of having driven Thee out of my soul. Give me Thy grace; but this is not enough, give me as well strength to love Thee with my whole soul during the remainder of my life; and when I come to die, grant me the grace to expire burning with love for Thee, and saying: My Jesus, I love Thee, I love Thee, in order to continue to love Thee for all eternity. From this moment I unite my death to Thy holy death, through which I hope to be saved: In Thee, O Lord, have I hoped; let me never be confounded. (Psalm xxx. 2.) O great Mother of God! thou art, after Jesus, my hope. In thee, O Lady, have I hoped; I shall not be confounded for ever.

Devout souls, when the devil strives to make you distrustful about your salvation by recalling your past sins, lift up your eyes to Jesus dead on the Cross to deliver you from eternal death. Since God has made known to you by means of your holy faith the desire He has of your salvation (having sacrificed His life for you, if only you are resolved to love Him truly the rest of your lives, cost what it may) be on your guard against any weakness in your confidence in His mercy. Having given us so many proofs of His love, and of His desire to save us, it would be an offence offered to God if we did not trust Him fully and place all our confidence in His goodness.

Full of holy confidence, therefore, let us hope for every good from the hands of a God so liberal and so loving; and at the same time let us give ourselves to Him without reserve, let us say: O Eternal God, We are indeed sinners; but Thou, Who art Almighty, canst make us saints; grant that for the time to come we may omit nothing which we know to be for Thy glory, and that we may in all things labour to give Thee pleasure. Grant that we may spend the rest of our days in pleasing Thee alone. Punish us as Thou wilt for our past sins, but not with the chastisement of not being able to love Thee; deprive us of all, but not of Thyself. Thou hast loved us without reserve, without reserve also do we wish to love Thee, O infinite Love! O infinite Goodness! O Mary, ever Virgin, draw us wholly to God; thou canst do so; do it for the love which thou bearest to Jesus.

4. CONCLUSION

Let us finish this little book with the prayer of St. Francis de Sales “O Eternal Love, my soul seeks Thee, and chooses Thee now and for ever. Come, Holy Ghost! enkindle in our hearts the fire of Thy love, To die and to love: to die to every other love, in order to live eternally to love Jesus. O Saviour of our souls! grant that we may sing for ever: Hail Jesus! I love Jesus! Hail Jesus, whom I love! I love Jesus, who lives and reigns for ever and ever. Amen.”

Ah! my Jesus! and who, seeing that Thou, who art the Son of God, hast willed to end Thy life by so bitter a death for love of us, who will be so hard-hearted and ungrateful as to prefer to Thee the miserable things of this world? My God, and my all, I prefer Thee to all knowledge, all wealth, all honours, all glory, all hopes, and to all the gifts that Thou couldst bestow upon me. Thou art my all. Thou art infinitely deserving of my love, how, then, can I love any other but Thee? Every gift short of Thyself is too little for me, and cannot satisfy me; Thee only do I desire, and nothing more. If, then, Thou must punish me for my sins, take from me everything; but deprive me not of Thyself. Thou alone art sufficient for me; I repeat, I desire Thyself and nothing more.

I am resolved, my Jesus, to spend the remainder of my life in loving and pleasing Thee. What have not the saints done to please Thee? They have stripped themselves of their possessions; they have renounced the greatest dignities of the world; they have welcomed as treasures, contempt, torments, and deaths the most cruel that tyrants could invent.

O Lord, I now understand that Thou hast created us to love Thee and to give Thee pleasure. In the past, I, a miserable wretch, instead of giving Thee pleasure, caused Thee so much displeasure. What can I say? Ah! that I could die of grief at the thought! But thanks to Thy mercy, I hope that Thou hast already pardoned me. And since Thou hast pardoned me, I now give to Thee my will and my whole being. Take full possession of me for ever, and make me all Thine own. Draw me ever closer and closer to Thy heart. Thou art my only good, my only love. O Mary, Mother of God! thou art, after Jesus, my hope. Ask for me from God, that I may be all His; I do not desire anything else. Thou art all-powerful with God; it is for you then to obtain me this grace.

O Divine Love! how is it that Thou art so despised by men? O men, behold on this Cross the Son of God, like a lamb, sacrificing Himself amidst the pains of death for your sins; behold Him, and love Him.

My Jesus, infinitely deserving of love, permit not that I live any longer ungrateful for such goodness. In the past I have thought but little of corresponding to the love which Thou hast borne me; for the future I will think only of loving and pleasing Thee.

Let us strip ourselves of self-love and of attachment to earthly things; let us give to God our whole will, entirely and without reserve, saying: O Lord! dispose of me, and all that belongs to me as Thou willest, in life and in death. I only will what Thou willest. My only desire is to love Thee always in this life, and for ever in the next. And what else could I desire, save only Thee, O God of my heart?

O blood of Jesus, inebriate me with the love of Jesus! O wounds of Jesus, pierce me with the love of Jesus! O death of Jesus, make me die to all love which is not for Jesus! My Jesus, I love Thee above all things; I love Thee with my whole soul; I love Thee more than I love myself. I repent, my love, of having despised Thee in the past. My beloved Lord, give me Thy love, and make me all Thine own. O Mary, my Mother! again I pray thee, to make me all to Jesus; thou must do it; I hope for this from thee.

5. DEVOUT ASPIRATIONS

O Loving heart of Jesus, inflame this poor heart of mine.

My Jesus, when shall I begin to love Thee, as Thou hast loved me?

My God, when shall I die to everything, to live for Thee alone?

My beloved, make me love Thee even in the midst of sufferings.

Thou hast loved me without reserve; I wish to love Thee without reserve.

My Jesus, make Thyself known, make Thyself loved by all.

My Jesus, grant that I may die, saying, I love Thee, I love Thee.

My God, suffer me not to lose Thee for ever.

Give me the grace to love Thee, and then do with me what Thou willest.

At this hour I might have been in hell, but now I love Thee, and I hope always to love Thee. And what else do I desire, my God! but Thee, my chief, my only good?

My Jesus, in the day of judgment do not send me away from Thee.

My Jesus, how lovely art Thou; but by how few Thou art loved!

My Jesus, grant me Thy love; I ask for nothing more.

Thou hast died for me, I wish also to die for Thee.

O death of Jesus, from thee I hope for a happy death.

O blood of Jesus, from thee I hope for pardon of all my sins.

O wounds of Jesus, from you I hope to love Jesus for ever.

O agony of Jesus, from thee I hope to bear peacefully the agony of my death.

O sorrows of Jesus, from you I hope for patience in contradictions.

O scourges of Jesus, deliver me from everlasting despair.

O tears of Mary, obtain for me sorrow for my sins.

O my own St. Joseph, by thy happy death, obtain for me a good death.

O holy Apostles, by your blessed deaths obtain me the grace to die in the love of God. And what do I desire, either in this life or in the next, but Thee alone, my God?

O my Jesus, had I died in sin, I could never more love Thee; now I desire to love Thee and Thee alone. My God, I love Thee, and I will love none but Thee.

St. Teresa, St. Philip Neri, my patrons, make me burn with the love of God with which you were inflamed. My Jesus, by the pain which Thou didst endure when thy right hand was pierced with the nail, give me perseverance in thy grace.

My Jesus, by the pain which Thou didst endure when Thy left hand was pierced with the nail, give me a true sorrow for my sins.

My Jesus, by the pain which Thou didst endure when Thy left foot was pierced with the nail, deliver me from the pains of hell.

My Jesus, by the pains which Thou didst endure when Thy right foot was pierced with the nail, give me the grace to love Thee eternally in heaven.

My Jesus, by the wound that was made in Thy Sacred Heart, give me the grace to love Thee always in this life and in the next.

Nihil Obstat:

CAROLUS DOYLE, Censor Theol. Deput.

@ Imprimi Potest:

IOANNES CAROLUS,

Archiep. Dublinen., Hiberniae Primas. die 24 Mai, 1949.

********

Member For Member

A PLEA FOR THE SOULS IN PURGATORY

BY ISIDORE O’BRIEN, O. F. M

INDEX

SOLACE OF FRIENDSHIP

ONE of the factors that make life’s trials more tolerable is the knowledge that friends are never far from our side. Seldom, it is true, can even the utterly devoted contribute much actual assistance in our most soul-trying problems; but their willingness to part with their last penny or last ounce of self in our behalf, lightens the burden if it does not remove it, gives us that extra impulse of strength which at least makes it seem bearable.

St. Paul leaned heavily on his friends for their comforting companionship. He who knew no fear of mortal man, whether jailer or judge or executioner, he who “fought with beasts in Ephesus,” felt utterly and almost despondently “alone in Athens,” as he himself tells us. And he who bravely suffered stoning and scourging and maligning pleads in a letter from his Roman prison to Timothy, “Make haste to come to me shortly; for Demas has deserted me . . . , Crestens [has gone] to Galatia, Titus to Dalmatia. Luke only is with me. . . . At my first defense no one came to my support, but all forsook me”—adding, even in the depths of his lonely misery- “may it not be laid to their charge” (2 Tim. 4:9–11,16). St. Francis of Assisi, whose renunciation of all earthly things stands alone in purely human history, had his counselor and confidant, Leo, always within earshot, even amid the divine secrecies of La Verna. Our Blessed Saviour Himself, on whose word twelve legions of warrior angels waited, with faltering steps and blooddrenched body sought the sustainment of His Apostles’ company in the darkness of His Agony; and from His dereliction on Calvary called across the abyss to His Father.

COMMUNION OF SAINTS

God, who has provided for all of man’s needs, natural and supernatural, has decreed and established for his help and companionship a singularly complete, intimate, efficient and consoling agency, namely the Communion of Saints.

The doctrine of the Communion of Saints is commonly defined as the spiritual solidarity which binds together the faithful on earth, the souls in purgatory, and the saints in heaven in the organic unity of one Mystical Body under Christ its Head, and in a constant interchange of supernatural offices. The members are called “saints” (even the members on earth) by reason of their destination, hoped-for or assured, and because they partake of the fruits of redemption. The damned are excluded. The angels are included, because they come under Christ’s power and He is their Head. The living share in it according to the measure of their union with Christ, even though they do not belong to the body of the true Church.

This article of faith was the latest added by the Church to the Apostles’ Creed (about the fifth century, though it is substantially contained in St. Paul’s teaching). It may be called also the most exclusively Catholic, in the sense that non-Catholics seem to misunderstand it most completely, condemning it as “worship” of the saints and a detraction from Christ’s mediatorship. That this position is wholly erroneous and these assertions are simply not true, has been proved innumerable times by Catholic theologians and apologists.

Any Catholic child knows that to give to Mary and the saints, who are creatures, the worship due to God alone (latria), would be idolatry. Catholics honor Mary and the saints because they are close friends of God; but honor is certainly not worship. The First Commandment orders us to worship God alone; the Fourth, to honor our parents. And theologians have made it clear that the ministerial mediatorship of the saints does not detract from but actually emphasizes the magisterial mediatorship of Christ. For a king’s officers, diplomats, generals and servants certainly do not take away from but express and underline the authority, power and glory of the king, since their authority derives from his and they speak only in his name.

The doctrine of the Communion of Saints has its roots in and draws its life from so many other fundamental teachings of the Church that it is called a synthesis of the principal dogmas of the faith. It flows from the doctrine of the Incarnation by which Christ is Head of men and angels. It is radically connected with the external glory and activity of the Blessed Trinity- man’s creation, redemption and sanctification; and with the operations of grace and the sacraments which are the very bloodstream and circulatory system of the Communion of Saints, or Body of Christ, as St. Paul termed it: “For as the body is one and has many members, and all the members of the body, many as they are, form one body, so also is it with Christ. For in one Spirit we were all baptized into one body . . . ; and we were all given to drink of one Spirit. . . . But God has so tempered the body together in due portion as to give more abundant honor where it was lacking; that there may be no disunion in the body, but that the members may have care for one another. And if one member suffers anything, all the members suffer with it, or if one member glories, all the members rejoice with it. Now you are the Body of Christ, memberfor member” (1 Cor. 12:12–13, 24–27). It is part of the structure of the unity of the Church which comprises all the faithful under their Head, Christ, directs with one authority and one faith the whole commerce of her prayers, sacrifices, almsgiving and indulgences, and promotes the good offices of the angels toward men. And because of the extraordinary richness of the idea of the Communion of Saints we shall have to confine ourselves to considering the doctrine simply under its well-known threefold aspect: the Church Militant (the Church in War), Suffering (the Church in Pain), and Triumphant (the Church in Glory)-with special emphasis on the second.

OPPOSITION TO CHRIST

The warfare between the Church and her foes has existed essentially not only from her foundation but from the very first promise of the coming of her Founder. “I will put enmity between you [Satan] and the Woman [Mary],” God said to Satan at the time of the Fall and the Promise, “between your seed and her Seed [Christ]; He shall crush your head, and you shall lie in wait for His heel” (Gen. 3:15). And the growth of that enmity between Satan and the coming Christ kept pace with the development of the character and life of our Lord in the Messianic prophecies. It found expression in the hatred and abuse showered on the prophets who foretold His coming with progressive clarity and yearned to see Him with increasing love and faith. “Amen I say to you,” Jesus reminded His disciples, “many prophets and just men have longed to see what you see, and they have not seen it,” namely the time of the Messias and the Messias Himself (Mt. 13: 17). And regarding the record of the persecution of the prophets, He said to the Pharisees, “Woe to you! for you build the tombs of the prophets, whereas your fathers killed them. So then you are witnesses and approve the deeds of your fathers” (Lk. 11: 47–48). Jerusalem, their own Holy City, He reminded them on another occasion, had the lamentable distinction of being the slaughter house of the prophets, and so He Himself was safe except there. “It cannot be,” He said with both historical and prophetic irony, “that a prophet perish outside Jerusalem” (Lk. 13:33).

There is no feature of the life to which He had called them, namely, the carrying on of the Church He would found on them, that Jesus made more clear to His Apostles than this: that because of their work and their loyalty to Him, the world through its various agents would persecute them: “If the world hates you, know that it has hated Me before you. If you were of the world, the world would love what is its own . . . but I have chosen you out of the world, therefore the world hates you. . . . Remember the word that I have spoken to you: No servant is greater than his master. If they have persecuted Me, they will persecute you also. . . . They will expel you from the synagogues. Yes, the hour is coming for everyone who kills you to think he is offering worship to God” On. 15:18–20; 16:2).

This, then, is the heritage of hate which came to the Church. It was directed against Christ by His enemies, and after they had put Him to death, was extended to His followers. A few years after His Ascension, the Church was banished to the four corners of the earth. First the disciples were scattered, then the Apostles; and wherever they went they met persecution, calumny, exile and martyrdom. Even the great city of Rome, that harbored any number of socalled religions, very soon picked out the Christian Church as the object of cruel sport. “The Christians to the lions!” became the popular cry; and the rulers, who had instigated the people’s hatred in the first place, enthusiastically acceded to their demand. Ten great persecutions between the years 64 and 303 drove the Christians to the hills, the deserts, the catacombs. The fairest and bravest, the wisest and most cultured, the holiest and best, were burned as torches for circus illumination; crucified and torn from their crosses to be devoured by wild beasts; sewn in bags with serpents and mad dogs and thrown into the Tiber; hacked to pieces as they united their voices in prayer and holy chants to God.

CONTINUATION OF SUFFERING

Through the centuries the Church’s history shows a continuation of this suffering. Most of the national Apostles endured martyrdom, and the countries they evangelized were plundered and occupied by brutal tyrants who hated the faith. Even as these words are written the Gethsemani of the Church continues: a cardinal endures living martyrdom; archbishops undergo suffering and humiliation that it seems only fiends could have devised; priests and nuns are butchered, tortured, starved, lashed and exiled; whole countries of the faithful endure persecutions that out-Neroes Nero. “I will put enmity,” said the Omnipotent, “between you and the Woman, between your seed and her Seed; He shall crush your head, and you shall lie in wait for His heel.”

Yet this is only the outward warfare of the Christian. A greater, a far more subtle, conflict rages within him. All the outward assaults are made against his nature, its feelings and instincts; they spell physical pain, which nature abhors and avoids by its very constitution. But the inward onslaughts come in the stolen uniform of his own appetites, speaking the tongues of his own pleasures, advising in the diplomacy of his own inclinations; traitors whose sworn purpose is to leave him open for a mortal wound, the fifth column of his own disloyal thoughts and rebelling desires that is working with the enemy for his defeat and enslavement. For if the three parts of the Church work together for man’s salvation, the three forces of evil, the world, the flesh and the devil, work hand-in-hand for his destruction. It is these that St. Paul was describing to the Ephesians when he wrote, “Be strengthened in the Lord and in the might of His power. Put on the armor of God, that you may be able to stand against the wiles of the devil. For our wrestling is . . . against the Principalities and the Powers, against the world-rulers of this darkness, against the spiritual forces of wickedness on high” (Eph. 6:10–12). And practically our Lord’s last words to His Apostles on the night of His arrest were these, spoken to Peter: “Simon, Simon, behold, Satan has desired to have you, that he may sift you as wheat. But I have prayed for thee, that thy faith may not fail; and do thou, when once thou hast turned again, strengthen thy brethren” (Lk. 22:31–32). Only the grace of Christ dispensed to us through the channels which He established and gave to the Church under Peter and his successors to administer, can arm us against the assaults of Satan and pour life into our souls if we are wounded.

DOCTRINE OF PURGATORY

Up till the moment of death we belong to the Church Militant; after that we immediately enter either the Church Suffering or the Church Triumphant. And since only the few are immaculate enough to go directly to glory, we shall consider here that place of purifying pain through which, first, the many must pass. It is purgatory, a place or state wherein the departed soul is cleansed from unconfessed venial sins and from other sins also, confessed but not fully atoned for.

The doctrine of purgatory is one of the most consoling taught by the Catholic Church. Without purgatory, what an unbearable lot would be ours! For on the one hand we have God’s decree that nothing defiled can enter heaven: “And a path and a way shall be there, and it shall be called the holy way: the unclean shall not pass over it. And this shall be unto you a straight way” (Is. 35:8). And on the other hand, even those striving earnestly to be good gather much guilty dust on the road of life. St. Peter askswhat will happen to “the impious and the sinner,” since “the just man scarcely will be saved” (1 Pet. 4:18).

But there never has been lack of assurance to the faithful that God created this purifying place which removes the last trace of stain from the soul and makes it fit for heaven. Even the ancient Jews performed suffrages for the dead, as chapter 12 of the Second Book of Machabees clearly shows.

When Judas Machabeus, the royal champion of that people and of their religion, was in a certain skirmish with Gorgias, the governor of Idumea, some Jews were slain; and Judas’ soldiers, going after the battle to bury their fallen brethren, found hidden under their coats votive offerings from the temples of idols, which had been appropriated by the soldiers when they destroyed those temples. This, besides breaking the Seventh Commandment, violated a stringent Mosaic ordinance: “Their [the idolatrous nations’) graven things thou shalt burn with fire. Thou shalt not covet the silver and gold of which they are made: neither shalt thou take to thee anything thereof, lest thou offend, because it is an abomination to the Lord thy God” (Deut. 7:25). In Jewish eyes the sin merited death (though it was not necessarily a mortal sin). The Bible account states:

“All plainl y saw that for this cause they were slain. Then they all blessed the just judgment of the Lord, who had discovered the things that were hidden. And so betaking themselves to prayers, they besought Him that the sin which had been committed might be forgotten. But the most valiant Judas {Machabeus} . . . making a gathering, . . . sent twelve thousand drachms of silver to Jerusalem for sacrifice to be offered for the sins of the dead, thinking well and religiously concerning the resurrection . . . and because he considered that they who had fallen asleep with godliness had great grace laid up for them. It is therefore a holy and wholesome thought to pray for the dead, that they may be loosed from sins” (2 Mach. 12:32–46).

The Church founded by Christ in the New Law continued, intensified and elevated the prayers and suffrages for the dead which had been practiced under the Old Law. Inscriptions from catacombs and ancient cemeteries reveal this custom, as do old liturgies; while the writings of early theologians and Fathers of the Church clarify it. The words we still utter after every prayer for the dead, “Eternal rest grant to them, O Lord, and let perpetual light shine upon them,” come to us unchanged from the second century. “Let us pray for the dead that God may forgive their sins and bring them to the land of the living,” is a supplication that echoed through the burial places of the infant Church. Tertullian, who lived at the end of the second century, mentions anniversary Masses for the dead. “Pray for the soul of your husband,” he wrote to a recently bereaved widow, “begging repose for him, and . . . have sacrifice [Mass] offered for him every year on the day of his death.” St. Perpetua beheld her brother Dinocrates, who “was suffering terrible torments,” being released from the place of punishment through her prayers. And St. Augustine, who appealed to his friends to pray for the soul of his mother, St. Monica, says, “There is no doubt that the dead are aided by the prayers of Holy Church, by the salutary Sacrifice, and by the alms that are poured out for their souls”

PAINS OF PURGATORY

That there is a place or state where souls are cleansed of all earthly stains in final preparation for heaven, is certain beyond all doubt. The cleansing is effected through a twofold punishment, the pain of loss and the pain of sense- each terrible and each only dimly comprehended by us in this life.

The pain of loss is an indescribable hunger for God. Here and now we can cushion ourselves against such yearning by placing creatures and ambitions and pleasures between ourselves and God. This, needless to say, is a wrong use of people and things—a use directly opposed to God’s intention in surrounding us with them, for He designed all things to lead us to Him. But we can nevertheless pervert their purpose and employ them to shield us, as it were, against His attraction. At the moment of death all these barriers fall away and we stand before God unprotected from the full force of His magnetic love. At last we see Him face to face, and His love draws and sets the whole tide and current of our own love, our own complete desire, our very being itself, toward Him. Now no created thing stands, or could stand, between us—with one exception: sin and the punishment still due to sin.

Many theologians believe that it is at this moment that the venial sins unforgiven at death are pardoned. Adequate temporal punishment remains, however, and this restrains us with fetters from rushing to God and immersing ourselves in His love, as chains would hold a person tortured with desert thirst from casting himself into a cool, grassbordered lake. We are transfused with longing. But the fetters hold.

Stripped of all earthly illusions, we now see the fatherly goodness of God who created all things for our use and enjoyment-the heavens with their vast wonders, the earth in its beauty and usefulness, fellow beings in the divine purpose that relates their lives to us, and ours to them. We see Christ who became one of us and redeemed us. We see the value of His passion. We appreciate the love of His heart. We understand His call to us to be one of His followers along His Way of the Cross. We behold the Holy Ghost, the Spirit of love and of truth. We perceive the pattern of His work of sanctification in our souls. We comprehend the sacramental measures and methods He used to fit us at this very moment for an instant, eternal, all-satisfying union with God.

But the fetters hold. As the hind longs for the running waters, so my soul longs for you, O God. Athirst is my soul for God, the living God. When shall I go and behold the face of God?” (Ps. 41:2–3).

At this moment, indeed, we do behold God, but we may not yet enjoy Him. “A path and a way shall be there, and . . . the unclean shall not pass over it.” For the evil fruits of sin prevent us from attaining the ecstatic possession of God which is the sole purpose of our existence, at the very instant at which God had planned the union. That union, frustrated for a term by sin, must be postponed. The hunger cannot be postponed but the satisfying of it must. Yet the very pain of the postponement will hurry the hour of possession—such is the mercy of God!

Not the least factor in our agonized disappointment is the realization that we ourselves could have averted it; that while still living we knew how to avert it, and had the means of doing so. The whole economy of satisfaction for sins was explained to us in a thousand instructions by teachers and priests. We knew that pains-taking sacramental confession, acts of contrition, prayers, Masses, mortification, almsgiving- all the spiritual items of a good Catholic life—help to remit the temporal punishment due to sin. Yet we neglected these; and now unpaid debts come between us and God at the very moment when our nature, our affections and faculties, our whole being, cry for eternal union with Him.

The pain of sense is caused by what theologians call “purgatorial fire.” This in many features is similar to the fire of hell, but differs in one overwhelming way: the fire of hell is eternal; that of purgatory, temporal. From the salutary estimates that have been made of the sufferings of purgatory, we single out those of St. Bonaventure and St. Thomas, both Doctors of the Church. St. Bonaventure tells us: “The severest pain of purgatory exceeds the most violent known on earth”; and St. Thomas writes: “Even the slightest torture of purgatory is worse than all the sufferings endurable in this world.” However, we can take heart from the fact that the pains of purgatory are certainly not beyond what souls can endure; that they are measured out by the hand of a merciful God; and that when the newly departed soul sees the ugliness, the deformity, the blasphemy, of even the last traces of sin, it goes eagerly to its place of cleansing. For, it has been observed, were a soul permitted to enter heaven with even temporal punishment for sin still due, it would suffer there by contrast with God’s holiness more than it would in purgatory itself.

How long do souls remain in purgatory? Since it has not pleased God to reveal the scale of suffering He metes out to the poor souls, there is nothing left us but conjecture—a fruitless employment. One great, basic fact we know beyond all doubt: God has given us infallible means for shortening their period of pain. They are His dear and loyal friends. They overcame themselves and the world for His sake; and their cleansing even by fire has their patient, thankful co-operation, for it makes them fit to enter His presence and possess His eternal life and love. They are beloved by Mary as her helpless, suffering children. And when their day of deliverance comes, the whole court of heaven will introduce them to the joys of the blessed.

HELP FOR AND FROM THE SUFFERING SOULS

It is to hasten this happy day that we pray for the poor souls. It is for this that the Church so readily opens her spiritual treasury and permits the faithful through their prayers and sacrifices to withdraw so many and such large appropriations of mercy.

Or our power to assist the poor souls might be likened to the turning on of an electric switch. One infinitesimal gesture releases the light, heat and power stored up by a Tennessee Valley project or a Bonneville Dam. That tremendous bank of energy awaits the flip of a switch or the push of a button. But it does await it!- that is the point. It would remain forever unreleased, and therefore useless, if the circuit connecting it with wheels and bulbs were not closed. And, on the other hand, all the circuits of all the electric systems in the world could be closed, and if there were no energy stored, everything would remain still and cold.

The merits of Christ surpass all figures of might and endurance for they are the great, inexhaustible store of help and grace that awaits release to the suffering souls through the closing of the circuit of His love by a Mass, a prayer, an almsgiving. This application of the merits of Christ and the saints is called “indulgence”: the earned withdrawals by the Church on earth from the Church in heaven for the Church in purgatory.

Our aid to the souls in purgatory is far from being one-sided, however. Who are more willing than they to intercede to God for us? And who can realize as clearly as they our need of divine assistance? They wish most earnestly that we should escape what they are experiencing. They know as we cannot the dreadful torment of purgatory and how easily we on earth can supplant its purifying value by prayers, Masses and good works in the quiet, peaceful, comparatively painless atmosphere of our homes, churches, places of work.

The poor souls are not a hypothetical or impersonal “they,” but our own brothers in the family of Christ. Many are bound to us by close earthly ties as well. Our parents may be there, beseeching us to hurry to their relief and release. The face of a lifelong friend may be upturned to us in agonized supplication. A wife may cry to her husband for his prayers. A husband may seek his wife’s help. We can be morally certain that a part of the saved of our generation are calling to us from purgatory. We went through wars and upheavals with them. We fought and pleaded for the same things. We read the same papers, traveled on the same trains, went to the same amusements and games. They cry individually to us everymoment of the day and night, “Have mercy on me, have mercy on me, at least you my friends, for the hand of the Lord has touched me.” And—their eyes clear now of all earthly distractions, their minds certain of eternal values, their hearts directed to One All-holy Object- they yearn to warn us in time not only to atone for our sins but to strengthen our love for God. Moreover, while it is true that their suffering, called satispassio, has no meritorious value, but atones by the very fact and measure of suffering, yet they can and do intercede for us while still in purgatory, and also help us when they reach heaven and dwell in the presence of God.

The Church Triumphant comprises all the holy souls who have “paid the last penny” to the justice of God thr ough the use of the sacraments and sacramentals of the Church, the prayers and penances of themselves and others. They are streaming into heaven at every hour- we can see them under the image of pilgrims, their weary faces lighted up from afar with the first rays of eternal joy and gladness as they press forward toward the throne of God. For them the kingdom of heaven has been won and grace has completed its work. An eternity of peace awaits them, an eternity in which they shall consciously and completely”live, move, and have their being” in God. .

This life of the blessed in heaven is not to be conceived of as mentally static or solitary. The vision of God in which they dwell insures a knowledge of the certain relations that exist between Him and His creatures; a deeper understanding of His attributes and a clearer perception of Him as our Father and Creator; an eternal and fruitful, though finite, penetration of the Blessed Trinity. As members of Christ’s Mystical Body the blessed converse with the angels and aid in administering the divine ordinances: who has not heard of the miraculous assistance rendered to men by St. Jude, St. Christopher, St. Anthony of Padua? And as children of her who sits enthroned in heaven, the Queen of men and angels, the blessed have the joy of the companionship of their Mother, the Mediatrix of Grace.

Such is the spiritual solidarity of the Communion of Saints, a solidarity which implies a variety of interrelations: within the Church Militant, not only the participation in the same faith, sacraments and government, but also a mutual exchange of prayers, merits and satisfactions; between the Church Militant and the Church Suffering and Triumphant, suffrages, invocations, intercession, veneration.

Imprimi potest:

Fr. Edmund J. Murphy, O. F. M. Delegate Provincial

Nihil obstat:

Bede Babo, O. S. B.

Censor Imprimatur:

@ Thomas A. Boland Bishop of Paterson

********

Men of Good Will

BY JOHN HENRY NEWMAN

INDEX

Now in order to show what this good will, or good disposition is, and how it bears upon faith, I observe as follows: What is the main guide of the soul, given to the whole race of Adam, outside the true fold of Christ as well as within it, given from the first dawn of reason, given to it in spite of that grievous penalty of ignorance, which is one of the chief miseries of our fallen state? It is the light of conscience, “the true Light,” as the same Evangelist says, in the same passage, “which enlighteneth every man that cometh into this world.” Whether a man be born in pagan darkness, or in some corruption of revealed religion,-whether he has heard the name of the Saviour of the world or not,- whether he be the slave of some superstition, or is in possession of some portions of Scripture, and treats the inspired word as a sort of philosophical book, which he interprets for himself, and comes to certain conclusions about its teaching,-in any case, he has within his breast a certain commanding dictate, not a mere sentiment, not a mere opinion, or impression, or view of things, but a law, an authoritative voice, bidding him do certain things and avoid others. I do not say that its particular injunctions are always clear, or that they are always consistent with each other; but what I am insisting on here is this, that it commands, that it praises, it blames, it promises, it threatens, it implies a future, and it witnesses the unseen. It is more than a man’s own self. The man himself has not power over it, or only with extreme difficulty; he did not make it, he cannot destroy it. He may silence it in particular cases or directions, he may distort its enunciations, but he cannot, or it is quite the exception if he can, he cannot emancipate himself from it. He can disobey it, he may refuse to use it; but it remains.

This is Conscience; and, from the nature of the case, its very existence carries on our minds to a Being exterior to ourselves; for else whence did it come? and to a Being superior to ourselves; else whence its strange, troublesome peremptoriness? I say, without going on to the question what it says, and whether its particular dictates are always as clear and consistent as they might be, its very existence throws us out of ourselves, and beyond ourselves, to go and seek for Him in the height and depth, whose Voice it is. As the sunshine implies that the sun is in the heavens, though we may see it not, as a knocking at our doors at night implies the presence of one outside in the dark who asks for admittance, so this Word within as, not only instructs us up to a certain point, but necessarily raises our minds to the idea of a Teacher, an unseen Teacher: and in proportion as we listen to that Word, and use it, not only do we learn more from it, not only do its dictates become clearer, and its lessons broader, and its principles more consistent, but its very tone is louder and more authoritative and constraining. And thus it is, that to those who use what they have, more is given; for, beginning with obedience, they go on to the intimate perception and belief of one God. His voice within them witnesses to Him, and they believe His own witness about Himself. They believe in His existence, not because others say it, not in the word of man merely, but with a personal apprehension of its truth. This, then, is the first step in those good dispositions which lead to faith in the Gospel.

And my second remark is this: that, in spite of all that this Voice does for them, it does not do enough, as they most keenly and sorrowfully feel. They find it most difficult to separate what it really says, taken by itself, from what their own passion or pride, self-love or self-will, mingles with it. Many is the time when they cannot tell how much that true inward Guide commands, and how much comes from a mere earthly source. So that the gift of conscience raises a desire for what it does not itself fully supply. It inspires in them the idea of authoritative guidance, of a divine law; and the desire of possessing it in its fulness, not in mere fragmentary portions or indirect suggestion. It creates in them a thirst, an impatience, for the knowledge of that Unseen Lord, and Governor, and Judge, who as yet speaks to them only secretly, who whispers in their hearts, who tells them something, but not nearly so much as they wish and as they need. Thus you see, my Brethren, a religious man, who has not the blessing of the infallible teaching of revelation, is led to look out for it, for the very reason that he is religious. He has something, but not all; and if he did not desire more, it would be a proof that he had not used, that he had not profited by, what he had. Hence he will be on the lookout. Such is the definition, I may say, of every religious man, who has not the knowledge of Christ; he is on the lookout. As the Jewish believers were on the look-out for the Messias who they knew was to come, so at all times, and under all dispensations, and in all sects, there are those who know there is a truth, who know they do not possess it except in a very low measure, who desire to know more, who know that He alone who has taught them what they know, can teach them more, and so are on the look-out for His teaching.

There is another reason why they will be thus waiting and watching for some further knowledge of God’s will than they at present possess. It is because the more a person tries to obey his conscience, the more he gets alarmed at himself, for obeying it so imperfectly. His sense of duty will become more keen, and his perception of transgression more delicate, and he will understand more and more how many things he has to be forgiven. But next, while he thus grows in self-knowledge, he also understands more and more clearly that the voice of conscience has nothing gentle, nothing of mercy in its tone. It is severe, and even stern. It does not speak of forgiveness, but of punishment. It suggests to him a future judgment; it does not tell him how he can avoid it. Moreover it does not tell him how he is to get better; he feels himself very sinful at the best; he feels himself in bondage to a tyranny which, alas! he loves too well, even while he hates it. And thus he is in great anguish, and cries out in the Apostle’s words, “Unhappy man that I am, who shall deliver me from the body of this death!”

For all these reasons then,-because he feels his ignorance, because he feels his bondage, because he feels his guilt and danger,-a religious man who has not the blessing of revelation, will be on the look-out for revelation. And this is the second disposition leading to faith in Christ: the first was belief in God, as our Teacher, Governor, and Judge; and the second is the earnest desire that He would reveal Himself, and an eager looking-out for the chance of His doing so.

This is the state of mind of the elect few: now, on the other hand, let us consider the state of mind of the multitude, who care little or nothing for religion, who disobey their conscience, who think as little of its dictates as they can, who would get rid of it, if they could. What will they know of the convictions, the apprehensions, and the hopes and wishes, of which I have been speaking? Will they have any nervous anxiety, any painful longing to be brought out of their present darkness? Will they, being, as I am supposing, strangers to revealed truth, will they be on the look-out for revelation? What is revelation to them? What do they care how sins are to be forgiven, when they do not feel the burden of sin? What desire have they for strength greater than their own to overcome their passions or their pride, seeing that they make much of their pride, as their true dignity, and freely indulge their passions, as their sole joy? They are contented with themselves; they think themselves as happily conditioned as they can be under the circumstances; they only wish to be let alone; they have no need of priest or prophet; they live in their own way and in their own home, pursuing their own tastes, never looking out of doors; perhaps with natural virtues, perhaps not, but with no distinct or consistent religious sense. Thus they live, and thus they die. Such is the character of the many, all over the earth; they live, to all appearance, in some object of this world, and never rise above the world, and, it is plain, have nothing of those dispositions at all which lead to faith.

Now take a man from each of these two classes, and suppose the news actually reaches them both, that a message has been received from the unseen world: how will they respectively act? It is plain: on him who has been looking out, or hoping, or at least longing, for such a mercy, its operation will be wonderful. It will affect him profoundly; it will thrill through him; so much so, that, provided only the message, on examination, be of a nature to answer his needs, he will be under a strong temptation to believe it, if he can, on very little evidence, or on none at all. At all events he will set about inquiring what its evidence is, and will do his best to find it all out, whether it be more or less. On the other hand, the man who is without the due religious dispositions I have been describing, simply is not moved at all. He takes no interest in the report, and will not go to the pains to inquire about it. He will sit at home; and it will not even occur to him that he ought to rise, and look about him. He is as little stirred, as if he heard that a great man had arisen in the antipodes, or that there was a revolution in Japan. Here then we have come to the critical difference between the two descriptions of men. The one is active, and the other passive, when Christ is preached as the Saviour of the world. The one goes to meet the truth; the other thinks that the Truth ought to come to him. The one examines into the proof that God has spoken; the other waits till this is proved to him. He feels no personal interest in it; he thinks it not his own concern, but (if I may so say) God Almighty’s concern. He does not care to make the most of his knowledge; he does not put things together; he does not add up his facts and cumulate his arguments; he leaves all this to be done for him by Him who speaks to him; and if he is to have any trouble in the matter, then he is willing to dismiss it altogether. And next, supposing proof is actually offered him, he feels no sort of gratitude or delicacy towards Him who offers it: he says without compunction, “I do not see this”; and ‘‘that does not follow’’; for he is a critic and a judge, not an inquirer, and he negotiates and bargains, when he ought to be praying for light. And thus he learns nothing rightly, and goes the way to reject a divine message, because he will not throw himself upon and into the evidence; while his neighbour, who has a real concern for his own salvation, finds it and believes.

Returning, then, to what I said when I began, we see now how it was that Our Lord praised easiness of belief, and condemned hardness of belief. To be easy in believing is nothing more or less than to have been ready to inquire; to be hard of belief is nothing else but to have been loth and reluctant to inquire. Those whose faith He praised had no stronger evidence than those whose unbelief He condemned; but they had used their eyes, used their reason, exerted their minds, and persevered in inquiry till they found; while the others, whose unbelief He condemned, had heard indeed but had let the divine seed lie by the roadside, or in the rocky soil, or among the thorns which choked it. And here I am led to say, what seems to me, as far as it is reverent to conjecture it, the fault of the holy Apostle St. Thomas. He said that he would not believe that Our Lord had risen, unless he actually saw Him. What! is there not more than one way of arriving at faith in Christ? are there not a hundred proofs, distinct from each other, and all good ones? Was there no way of being sure He came from God, except that of seeing the great miracle of the resurrection? Surely there were many others; but St. Thomas prescribed the only mode in which he would consent to believe in Him. This was the case of his countrymen also, for in this point he only did what they had done. The Jews had long been the people of God, and they had the writings of the Prophets. The fulfilment of the prophecies in the Person of Our Lord was the most obvious and natural evidence to the Jews that He was the Messias; but they would not accept this evidence, and determined to have another. They determined to be convinced in one particular way, viz., by miracles; and when, out of the superabundant mercy of God, miracles were wrought before their eyes, then they would choose the special kind of miracle which was to convince them, and would not believe, unless it was a miracle to their liking. And hence it was that Our Lord said, as I have already quoted His words: “Unless ye see signs and wonders, ye believe not.” Hence too He said, on other occasions: “0 foolish and slow of heart to believe in all things which the Prophets have spoken.” And: “If they hear not Moses and the Prophets, neither will they believe if one rise again from the dead.” And: “An evil and adulterous generation seeketh a sign, and a sign shall not be given it, but the sign of Jonas the Prophet.” And hence the Jews of Thessalonica are censured, and the Bereans, on the contrary, praised, “who received the word with all eagerness, daily searching the Scriptures, whether these things were so.” It is added, “and many of them believed.” And therefore, in the instance of St. Thomas, I say that, when he was so slow to believe, his fault lay in thinking he had a right to be fastidious, and to pick and choose by what arguments he would be convinced, instead of asking himself whether he had not enough to convince him already; just as if, forsooth, it were a great matter to his Lord that he should believe, and no matter at all to himself. And therefore it was, that, while Christ so graciously granted him the kind of proof he desired, He said to him for our sakes: “Because thou hath seen Me, Thomas, thou hast believed: blessed are they that have not seen, and have believed.” And so, alas! it is now: many is the man who has a drawing towards the Catholic Church, and resists it, on the plea that he has not sufficient proof of her claims. Now he cannot have proof all at once, he cannot be converted all at once, I grant; but he can inquire; he can determine to resolve the doubt, before he puts it aside, though it cost labour and time to do so. The intimate feeling of his heart should be: “What must I do, that I may be saved?” His best consolation is the promise: “Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and you shall find; knock, and it shall be opened to you. If, instead of this, he quarrels with this or that particular proof, never thinks of inquiring for himself, and ascertaining where the truth lies, contents himself with admiring the Church, and so ends the matter, what is this but the conduct of one who has no sensitive conscience, who loves his own ease, or the comforts of life, or his worldly reputation, or the society of his relatives, or his worldly interests, and considers that religious truth is not worth the sacrifice of these temporal advantages?

Do not fancy, my Brethren, that what I have been saying about inquirers, in no sense applies to you. Catholics, indeed, have not to seek; the anxious questions which natural conscience asks, are in your case answered to the full. You know who saves you, and how; but recollect that that same sensitiveness and delicacy of conscience, which is the due disposition for faith, is also its safeguard and its nutriment, when it is at length possessed. It feeds the flame of faith, and makes it burn brightly. St. Paul speaks of those, who, having “rejected a good conscience,” had “made shipwreck of their faith.” This will be particularly the case in a day like this. Catholics go into the world; they mix with men of all religions; they hear all manner of sophistical objections made to the Church, her doctrines, and her rules. What is practically to keep them steadfast in the faith, but their intimate perception of their need of it? what is to bring them to the sacrament of penance, but their sorrow and their detestation of sin? what is to bring them to communion, but a thirst for the Living and True God? what is to be their protection against the aberrations of the intellect, but the deep convictions and eager aspirations of the heart?

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Minutes With The Master

BY REV. PAUL LEONARD, S. J

INDEX

The Retreat lecture was over. As the Sodalists filed reverently out of the chapel one of them seemed more than a little agitated. As soon as she got outside the door she could control herself no longer. “Did you ever hear the like,” she said, turning to her neighbour indignantly, “did you ever hear the like . . . he just puts the material before us and we meditate on it afterwards! What does he think we are? Meditate!Sure I can’t even concentrate.” Many people share this good lady’s misconception concerning meditation. The word fills them with dread: there is an icy chill in its every syllable. It brings to their minds pictures of contemplative monks, cowled and silent, pacing austere corridors, wrapped in the deepest thought, or of nuns, hushed in prayer, bowed low before the Blessed Sacrament. We are very apt to feel that meditation is utterly beyond us ordinary folk who live in the busy world where dishes have to be washed, meals prepared and a thousand and one other tasks attended to-not to mention the harmless amusements that it is our right to enjoy. But, please pardon me for saying so, this is a nonsensical notion! Of course you can meditate! You do meditate- many times a day!

Let us suppose for a moment -a thing that sometimes can happen-a friend makes an insulting remark about you in the company of others and you overhear it. You blush, scarlet, suddenly catch your breath but pretend that you have noticed nothing! But you are wounded to the quick. Later on in the day, when you are alone, what happens? You begin to meditate! Subject of your meditation? Insult of Mrs. Jones. Your mind works something like this. First, you recall the scene. How vividly it comes back to your mind: all the people that were there, the subject of the conversation, the expression on good Mrs. Jones’s dear face. You hear again the nasty remark she made about you, you recall the very words she used, the sarcastic inflection of her beautiful voice . . . you see again the reactions of her hearers . . . amusement, distaste, laughter. Perhaps you find by this time that you are grinding your teeth or clenching your, fists or, maybe, that your cheeks are getting hot! But you have taken the first step in any meditation, recalling the scene or subject we have to think upon. Was it so extraordinarily difficult?

Now for stage number two. You begin to reflect. “Wasn’t that a very mean thing for Mrs. Jones to say . . . I wouldn’t mind so much if it was eventrue . . . I’ve been so kind to her . . . I really thought she was a good friend of mine. . . . how disloyal of her . . . and before all those people too, before George and Mr. Murphy . . . what will they think about me now . . . they will probably think it is true . . . of course I shouldn’t be surprised, I should have known that woman was like that . . . you can’t make a silk purse . . . I think I”11 go and tell Mr. Murphy that it is completely untrue, that Jones said it because she is a jealous old cat . . . (your meditation is warming up now!) No I won’t . . . I”11 just Ignore, the whole thing.” Now you are entering on the third and final stage of a meditation: you resolve. You end your train of thought by saying to yourself: “Yes, I”11 Ignore the whole thing, but the next time I meet Mrs. Jones I”11 cut her dead!” .”You have made a perfect meditation—without even knowing it! But, alas, you did not make it of a very fruitful subject. You probably do feel awed when spiritual authors tell you that “meditation consists in exercising the three faculties of the soul, memory, understanding and will.” You are hardly to be blamed if you imagine such a thing is beyond you. But all they mean by this technical language is that you should recall some subject to your mind, reflect upon it and resolve about it.

Now, let us take a more fruitful subject for meditation, one more apt to produce holy thoughts and good resolutions and so draw us closer to Our Lord. Let us choose Herod’s insult to Christ.

Recall the scene: see the dissolute king leaning forward on his throne, the dissipated courtiers watching on; Our Lord, dignified and silent. Listen to the words. . . . . the sniggers. . . . watch the fool’s garment being thrown on His shoulders. . . . .the coarse, ribald laughter.

Next, reflect on the scene: many thoughts must surely crowd into your mind . . . ponder them quietly. What a judge! Dissolute, immoral, unjust. What a Prisoner! God made man . . . innocent, spotless, sensitive, refined, yet dignified, majestic, calm, controlled, complete master of the situation, “and He answered not a word.” What a sentence! A fool’s garment for a God all wise. Many, many other thoughts must come to you as you ponder the scene. The more personal to you, the better.

Lastly, resolve: This resolution will flow from your thoughtful consideration; it will be the outcome of your reflection. Perhaps it may be to bear insults silently in order to be more like your suffering Master . . . or to refrain from mocking others because in mocking them, you mock Christ Himself. Whatsoever you do to the least of these, My brethren, you do unto Me

Is it so very difficult to do this? Surely not! Of course you can meditate.

“STILL, IT’S NOT SO EASY!”

It is a consoling thing to remember that praying itself is not so hard. It is the most natural thing in the world. It’s the making it every day that costs. If you are a Sodalist or a member of some other organisation that prescribes about a quarter of an hour’s mental prayer daily you may be inclined to disagree with these first few pages and protest: “but still, it’s not so easy!” The answer to that is, I think, that to do anything every day is difficult. Take learning the piano for example. You may be musical and anxious to become a great pianist. You start with enthusiasm and high resolve. After a while daily practice palls; you become bored and tempted to give the whole thing up. If you are to get anywhere you must survive that period of boredom. For it is a law of life that no pursuit yields us full enjoyment unless we conquer a period of tedium that comes after the feeling of novelty has worn thin.

You can’t capture the rapture of music until you have overcome the boredom of scales. Golf is torture till you have mastered the strokes. Acting gives no thrill till lines have been learned and actions rehearsed. It is the same with prayer. We cannot succeed unless we practise it day after day. Then we cannot do without it.

“BUT I CAN’T GET TIME”

You will never get time for anything. Time just flows on remorselessly. You must make time to do the things you want to do. What happens on a day when you are almost completely free from school or office and have a few little jobs to do? Bedtime arrives and you find yourself saying: “Gosh, I got nothing done to-day!” It is a very strange fact, but it is true, isn’t it? What’s the reason? You had plenty of time but you just didn’t make the time to do the jobs you should have done. On, a very busy day, if you want to buy a new dress or change a book in the library or do something else you are very anxious to do, you will get it done. You make the time! So it is with our prayer. If we consider it really important we will make time for it. And is your day, honestly, so very crowded? Are there not many idle moments, many quarter-hours spent dawdling over newspapers, drinking coffee, gossiping over the phone, beautifying yourself, or just doing nothing, sprawling in an arm-chair, hardly listening to the radio at your elbow?

Making time for prayer means making a definitetime. No use yawning lazily in the morning and saying: “I will make my mental prayer today.” You won’t unless you fix a definite time . . . before going out to work, at the lunch break, at five-thirty, before setting out for the pictures or dressing for the dance. That little word”be fore” Is vitally important! Fix your time for prayer before some eventrather than after It. Above all, don’t wait till the very end of the day. You will hear yourself saying: ““ I”m so very tired to-night,” “I”ve done enough praying for one day,” “I have to get up very early tomorrow,” “Sure, I”11 make it in bed!” There is nothing like warm blankets and soft pillows for soothing little qualms of conscience.

If you are a Sodalist or belong to some other organization that binds you by rule to make daily mental prayer I would like you now to be fearlessly honest with yourself. Please avoid all pious humbug. Answer the following questions truthfully to yourself and you will get some idea of how you stand in this question of daily prayer.

(a) Does your mental prayer present no problem to you because you just don’t bother about it at all? (b) Do you do it now and again but don’t worry whether you do it or not?

(c) Are you anxious to do it every day but find that it drops out very often? Fairly often?

(d) Do you do It every day, but find it very hard and feel that it is not much use or worth the trouble? If you must answer yes to one of these questions, then I would ask you to make a firm resolution to make your mental prayer faithfully every day. What I have said and what I am going to say, I hope, may help you in your effort. But first you must resolve to try hard and continue, to try after failure.

THE REASON WHY . .

“Why all this fuss about this rule about daily prayer?” you may be tempted to ask somewhat impatiently. “. Why are Directors and writers always harping on it? We know its Important!” But the sad truth of the matter is that, although we admit in theory that daily prayer is vital, in practice it does not always appear that this conviction is really deep, strong and true. It would be well worth your while to pander prayerfully that very fundamental question: “Why is prayer so important?”

Most of us are fairly normal people. We mix with the crowd; play with our companions, experience, more or less, the same joys and sorrows as others. Without much fuss we manage to get along all right; we follow the others who have gone before us. Living this carefree life, it can come as a terrible shock to me to realise that I can’t just follow other people into Heaven. By my own deliberate personal cooperation with God’s grace, I must merit it for myself. I can also lose it. And there is no dodging the issue: one day I shall be either in Heaven or in hell. Either . . . or. . there is no third destiny for me. When this rather appalling thought comes to us, well may we feel afraid and ask anxiously: “How can I make sure of saving my soul? I am so weak. The glamour of the world and sin are so alluring. Evil often entices me.” If you do fifteen minutes prayer every day you need have no fear: you can be sure of saving your soul. This is not just a pious thought thrown out to buttress your resolution to keep your rule about daily mental prayer. It is sound common sense. You cannot go far wrong if you go down on your knees for a quarter of an hour every day. You may fall into sin, yes, but if you are faithful to your prayer you will see the error of your ways and God will grant you grace to repent and return to Him. “You will give up,” says St. Alphonsus Ligouri, “either your prayer or your sin.” St. Bellarmine, a Doctor of the Church, one of the greatest theologians, a man who weighed all his words carefully and was never given to uttering pious extravagances, says, with the deepest conviction:

“1 will guarantee the eternal salvation of any soul who does fifteen minutes prayer a day.

IN THE LIKENESS OF CHRIST

But mental prayer does a lot more for us than get us into Heaven. It helps us to become daily more Christ like. Did you ever notice how people who spend a lot of time together often grow rather alike in various ways? Especially is this the case if they know each other intimately and grow to love each other dearly. They come to think about things in much the same way. You will hear them using the same expressions, the same words. Sometimes, even, you will detect one of them developing, unconsciously perhaps, a gesture or mannerism of the other. Knowledge of another leads to love and love leads to imitation. In our daily prayer we spend our time with Christ. We accompany Him again through the scenes of His Childhood, the labours of his Public Life, the sorrows of His Passion, the joys of His Resurrection. We learn to know Him more intimately to love Him more ardently. For to know Him is to love Him, so great is the captivating charm of His Personality. So, almost without knowing it, we begin to imitate Him. Our lives gradually become transformed into the likeness of His. We commence to shed his fragrance everywhere we go.

Furthermore, daily mental prayer keeps fresh in our mind the thought that we work In a Sodality for God and that the task we do is a spiritual one. Its success will depend on God’s grace given to ourselves and granted to others because of our prayers. “The man who does not pray,” says an eminent Jesuit writer of long ago, “even though he be very active, cannot do much for God. At best he only works for God. But the man who prays achieves great things, because Godworks through him.” The work of a Sodality in which every member makes their daily mental prayer cannot but achieve great things for God. The work of a Sodality in which any member does not, cannot but be somewhat marred.

When we neglect our mental prayer we tend to forget that our work is a spiritual one. We allow a. human element into Sodality activities that tends to rob them of their effectiveness. We think more of ourselves than of souls and God’s glory.

We oppose Miss X”s plan, not because it is unsound, but because she did not co -operate withours. We don’t turn up at the Club on our night because Tom was absent on his. Because we were not elected to the Council we criticise everything it attempts to do. If we were faithful to our daily prayer the spiritual motive for our work would be uppermost in our minds; we would check these petty personal jealousies, curb our all too human outburst of spite. We would think more of souls and less of ourselves, and so the work of the Sodality would prosper and spread and a harvest of souls. Would be reaped. If all is not well in a Sodality It is almost certain that the rule about daily mental prayer is not being observed.

DIFFICULTIES THAT DISCOURAGE

Quite a number of people become discouraged about their prayer because they do not judge their efforts correctly. Let us suppose, just for a moment, that you are an angel In Heaven. As you look down on the earth you see two people going Into the Church to pray. They are both good Sodalists who make their mental prayer every day. The judgement of the Recording Angel on their efforts will help you never to misjudge your, own prayer. For the views of Heaven and Earth are often very different.

Jill is in splendid form and settles down immediately to the subject of her meditation. The altar, the flowers, the sunshine streaming through the stain-glass windows, the flickering of the sanctuary lamp, make her feel happy and joyous. Holy thoughts flow into her mind, she becomes absorbed in the Gospel scene, she ponders and is swept away into the world of the spiritual. Warm feelings spring up within her. She feels her love for Our Lord to be as tender as her love for her own brother or father or friend. She finds she is speaking intimately and freely to Our Lord In the tabernacle and feels that He is listening attentively and lovingly. Calm and motionless, no distraction mars her prayer. She can almost see the veil of Eternity stir and hear the beat of angels wings. She looks at her watch: “Goodness! A quarter of an hour gone, I seem to be here only about five minutes!”

DRYNESS AND DISTRACTION

Jack just can’t settle down to prayer. The altar and flowers and sunshine make no impression on him. They look as they always look. A fly is buzzing in a pale shaft of light. Distracted, he watches it idly He pulls himself away from the distraction and tries to pray again. He says a short ejaculation for help and tries to recall the Gospel scene. “Time must be up now,” he thinks, and takes a look at his watch. Only five minutes gone and it seems almost an hour. He tries again to pray but nothing happens, he feels dull and lifeless, even a little drowsy. Disconnected pictures of yesterday’s football match swim into his mind . . . he is out in the open . . . the stands are cheering . . . he is winning the game . . . running for the goal . . . Again he pulls himself up, sets his teeth and tries to pray once more. He speaks to Our Lord in the tabernacle, but it doesn’t seem very real, words don’t come easily. He makes a dry act of Faith in the Real Presence. Another look at the watch . . . time surely must be up by now. ., only ten minutes gone! Back again to his prayer the devil whispers in his ear: “You might as well go now; time is nearly up anyway; call it a day!” He half rises, turns to go, but pulls himself back forces himself to stay and battles on against his dryness and distractions, praying humbly: “Lord, pleaseteach me to pray.” Quarter of an hour over at last. Thank God! But he does not go. He kneels on for a minute more to conquer his impatience and to prove to God that he wants to do his best. He genuflects, leaves the Church, barely restraining himself from running up the aisle!

Now. Jill Probably feels elated and very satisfied with her prayer. Perhaps she may even feel a little proud of herself and maybe thinks she is rather holy. The devil, of Course, is whispering in her ear: “What a good girl am I!” Jack, on the other hand, does not feel so pleased. He probably thinks that his effort has not been so successful. To him the devil is saying: “Not so good, Jack, my boy! Hardly worth all the effort is it? You’ll never make much of a fist of the praying! Might as well give it up!

But the Recording Angel views things in a completely different light. Under Jill’s name in the Heavenly Books he writes: “merit for daily meditation faithfully performed.” But because it was so easy for her he inscribes no special commendation for difficulties overcome. Indeed this judicious and most wise Spirit may have deducted marks and written in red the reason why: “slight tendency to pride!”

But Jack “s page is a page of glory. “Merit for daily meditation faithfully done. Bonus for persevering in spite of continued dryness. Bonus for fighting against continued distractions. Special commendation for distinguished service in the face of the enemy by prolonging prayer in face of desolation and of temptation to shorten it. Most unselfish act of worship of Almighty God.” He may well add a special note that Jack is worthy to receive great graces and spiritual gifts in the near future.

SPIRITUAL PRINCIPLES

We must not judge the success of our efforts at prayer by our feeling or emotions. If we do, we shall make grave mistakes. We shall be tempted to give up when we find the going difficult, thinking our prayer is valueless. Countless souls have been deluded by the devil in this manner. It is fatal to forget that we go down on our knees to adore and praise God, not to experience personal spiritual delights. Prayer is mainly a matter of faith, not solely a question of feeling. We ourselves get very little out of dry distracted prayer, devoid of all feelings of tenderness or devotion-at least not in the natural order. But we gain tremendous merit. For we give to God a marvellous, unselfish tribute of our loyalty and love. We prove to Elm our sincerity and our selfless devotion to Him said to ills Cause. It is important to remember well these spiritual principles. If we do, we will remember, when our prayer is pleasant and easy, to ask ourselves how will we fare when difficulties arise, and to pray for grace to remain steady under fire. (When we are under fire let us remind ourselves that the storm will pass and calm return. Should the devil tempt us to run away, let us finish out our time of prayer and then prolong it just for a minute or two. In doing this-to use the vivid phrase of St. Ignatius-we completely “knock out the devil”! We do even more. We Imitate our Divine Master. For in the darkness and pain of His Gethsemane the scripture tells us that “being in an agony, He prayed the longer.

“BUT I FEEL SO INSINCERE!”

Whenever we say to another things we know to be untrue we cannot escape a feeling of guilt. We may try to excuse ourselves by saying that convention sanctions such conduct or courtesy calls for it. But in our heart of hearts we feel uneasy and disturbed. We can never be really happy when we are playing a part, pretending to be what we know we are not. Quite a number of people feel, unconsciously perhaps and in the depths of their being, that prayer forces them to take up a false position, to be insincere with God. They would be afraid to express this thought in words. Indeed they fly from it like poison, for to them it seems, almost like blasphemy. But because they are honest, sincere, humble people they cannot help feeling it and so, when they pray, they become a little uneasy, slightly disturbed, faintly perplexed. Sometimes even, because of this, they begin to avoid prayer.

What’s the reason for this uneasy feeling? It is this: a false practice of piety has accustomed them to use words that are archaic and extravagant and to make protestations that are exaggerated and which they knew they do not mean. But their early training, the pious manuals they read lead them to believe that this is the way all true prayer must be made. So they tell themselves that they must be wrong, try to suppress their feelings of revulsion and continue to do their best. But the feeling of insincerity persists! Why? Because they are not wrong! Their feelings are true! Their instincts are right. There is no need whatsoever to pray in such a fashion!

PARCHMENT PRAYER

Prayer is a personal matter. According to St. Theresa It is “loving converse with God.” The Cure of Ars was once asked for a definition of faith. His reply was: “It is speaking to God as if he were our fellowman.” When we are speaking with a friend we love we do not run to a library to look for a guide to polite conversation. We avoid the rhetoric of the parchment address. We use the simple ordinary language of every day, not the conventions of centuries long past. Ever so many pious manuals were written generations ago. The language old-fashioned and artificial. There is not the slightest obligation for us to use it. There is no need whatsoever for us to punctuate our prayers with “Vouchsafe” and “Deign” and other words to us mysterious! Besides, many of these pious manuals-I do not say all, mind you-print prayers that are over-elaborated, artificial and unreal. We should be reverent always at our prayer, yes; but reverence does not imply abstract verbiage!

THE GOSPEL PRAYERS

Take out your New Testament for a moment. Skim through it and pick out the prayers various people- honest, ordinary people like yourself-made to Our Lord In sore distress and need. You will find no fine phrases, no learned abstractions, and no grandiose rhetoric. You will meet simple everyday language, coming straight from the. Human heart, beautiful because spontaneous, moving because natural and sincere.

“Lord, he whom Thou lovest is sick.”

“Remember me when Thou comest into Thy Kingdom.”

“Lord, Thou knowest all things, Thou knowest that I love Thee.”

“My Lord and my God!”

Then you have that most moving prayer of Magdalene when she met Jesus in the garden outside the tomb-just one word-” Rabboni!” Master! These prayers we know pleased Our Lord. He answered them. You could not do better than read through all your New Testament and make out a list of all these prayers. There are far many more than the ones I have quoted above. Discover them for yourself if you do this, you will find that they will fill and satisfy the longing of your soul.

HONESTY ALWAYS

Besides the words used in many prayer books, the thoughts expressed cause us some uneasiness. The lofty protestations of love can make us feel a little uncomfortable. We know in our heart of hearts, for instance, that we are not willing to die a thousand deaths for Jesus- even though our prayer book bids us say so. Far better tell Our Lord, in your own words, that you are terrified even for Him- of suffering, that you feel mean and ashamed of this and that you want Him to help you. Never say what you do not mean when you are on your knees. Make that a rule of all your prayer. If you would not die rather than sin again, don’t pretend you do. Ask God, instead, to give you the grace that you may prefer to die rather than sin again. Don’t protest to God that you are a hero when you know yourself you are a coward. Admit your cowardice to Him and beg Him to make you a hero. If we pray like that our prayers will have the true ring of sincerity. Never for a moment will we have that uneasy feeling that we do not mean what we are saying, that we are not being quite honest with God.

HOLINESS FRIGHTENS ME!

Most of us feel, I suppose, that we should tell God in our prayer that we really want to be holy. If we really do, then we should do so and thank God for giving us the grace of such a holy desire. If we don’t, then, perhaps, we could make the words of Blessed Claude de la Colombiere our own. For they form a prayer that is utterly sincere and perfectly natural. This is the way he spoke to God on that subject:

“My God, I have no desire for great holiness, perhaps I have even a dread of it. But if, in your mercy, you will change me, give me courage to detach myself from the world; at least, let me put no obstacle in the way. You know what means to take so as to win my heart. These means are in Your Hands, You are the Master. Holiness frightens me; you can cure me of this false and foolish fear and make all easy for me that seem so difficult. You alone can do this.”

Such a prayer surely proves that when we pray we needn’t be insincere!

“THOSE DISTRACTIONS!”

Perhaps the greatest cause of discouragement in prayer is distractions. Everybody experiences them to a greater or lesser degree. Some people become so plagued with them that they grow exasperated and impatient. “It’s no use praying,” they say to themselves, “I will never succeed.” With such a conclusion the devil is, of course. Delighted! If these people realised that distractions are almost inevitable and knew the reasons why they come they would not be so easily disheartened. The devil is most. Anxious that we remain oblivious to the reasons why distractions come. His best work is often done, you know, not by putting things into our minds but by keeping things out! That is Why It will be well worth while now to recall the reasons why our minds wander.

The worst kind of distractions are what theologians call voluntary distractions. But we need not pause to delay over these. It is most unlikely that you suffer from them if you are trying your best to pray. They don’t just come into your mind. You bring them in yourself. Deliberately and consciously you turn your mind to matters not pertaining to prayer. You are quite aware that you are doing this and yet continue to do so. It is like going into the presence of a great personage and then deliberately turning your back on him to talk to someone else about some unnecessary matter: Such a mode of behaviour with God is, of course, most reprehensible. It is irreverent. But our distractions rarely spring from ill will. They come from our human weakness. We don’t bring them. Into our mind, they come, unwanted, into our poor heads! These kind of distractions the theologians call Involuntary. They are Involuntary that is, unwanted; we do not will them. They are not sinful but they do disturb our prayer. Why do they come?

THE TUMULT OF THINGS

You read a lot of books and magazines? You go to the pictures and the theatre? You play games and go dancing? You have business worries, family anxieties and personal problems? . How then can you expect to banish in a flash thoughts that occupy your mind almost all your waking hours? Is it reasonable to think that by walking into a church, by sprinkling yourself with holy water, you can leave them all outside the door? Surely not! It is foolish to expect to pass from the tumult of things into uninterrupted converse with God by merely falling on our knees. Distractions are inevitable. The art of true prayer is not having any distractions but in dealing with the ones you must have successfully.

Besides, we are weaker than we think. We cannot keep our minds on any problem or subject without becoming distracted. When we think of God and holy things it becomes even more difficult. We cannot see, touch or feel Him. We have no vivid pictures of Him in our imaginations on which to fix our thoughts. It is very presumptuous to think that we can pass a whole quarter of an hour in prayer without a single distraction. Without the help of the Holy Ghost, St. Paul tells us, we cannot even say “Lord, Jesus”! If we realise our human weakness we will appeal more for Divine help. God will not withhold it-of that you may be sure. But the devil does not want us to ask for and receive this help from heaven. That Is why he is so anxious to have you think that you should be able to pray well by your own efforts!

PARTLY TO BLAME

Sometimes, of course, we are partly to blame for the distractions that come. Not that we want them to come.We don’t help ourselves sufficiently to pray. And remember the old proverb: God helps those who help themselves. Our efforts at prayer lack method, we don’t set about it in an orderly fashion. We neglect to take even elementary precautions to secure even moderate attention of mind. What can we do to help ourselves?

PREPARE!

Suppose you want to write a good letter to a friend. How do you set about it? Do you take a pen in hand when you come home from a dance with the music of the band still ringing in your ears? If you do, you will write a scrappy, chaotic letter that you will end by tearing up. But you don’t. You choose a quiet evening when you have little else to do. You retire to a quiet room. You collect your writing materials. You fill your pen. You jot down in rough the things you want to say. Then you start writing. You find that you can write easily, your thoughts flow smoothly. You are never stuck for news or at a loss for word or phrase. You have learned from the past that when you don’t make such preparation before writing you find yourself sucking your pen in a few moments and gazing dreamily into space. If we don’t prepare our prayers much the same thing happens.

HOW TO PREPARE

The first thing you must do is decide what you are going to meditate on. Don’t wait until you are about to kneel down to come to this conclusion. Know beforehand. Let us say you have chosen the Annunciation for the subject of your consideration. Read over the account of it in your New Testament. (An excellent time to do this is the previous night, last thing before going to sleep.) If the mystery is very long divide it up into three parts:

1, before the Annunciation; 2, during the Annunciation; 3, after the Annunciation. Then decide how you will ponder on the mystery. A very simple method is to consider the persons, words and actions. That is all the preparation you have to make. If you make it, your prayer will have shape and form; it will proceed with order and method; distractions will have less chance of taking you unawares.

Having prepared your material for prayer on the Annunciation your meditation, in practice, would follow lines something like these

1. Before the Annunciation:

(a) Persons: Only one, Mary. I look at her, notice her appearance, her eyes, hands, etc., her attitude of tranquil recollection. I look within at her thoughts and affections.

(b) Words: There are none. The thought may strike me: silence is often the setting for the communication of God’s greatest graces. I may think to myself: does God ever get a chance to speak to me in times of silence is there ever an oasis of silence in my flurried day?

(C) ACTIONS: THERE ARE NONE.

Your next point would be the actual Annunciation itself. Here, as well as watching the persons and actions, you would listen to the words of Our Lady and the angel Gabriel, pondering them, one by one, quietly in your mind. No need to hurry through the whole mystery in a quarter of an hour. Pause here you find it easy to reflect and pray. If you find yourself talking to Our Lady, or the Angel Gabriel, speak out what is in your mind and heart and forget about the little plan you have drawn up for the moment. Draw as much fruit as possible from whatever appeals to you. We should not glide through our prayers like a ship running against time but proceed slowly like a dredger plunging into the Deep for treasure. If we follow such a method we will find the number of our distractions will be fewer.

But still some will certainly come. Anxieties, problems, future events will enter our minds. Temptations even may molest us. Speak to God about them. Ask him for health for your sick parents and grace to be resigned to His will should He wish to take them to Himself. If your distractions are silly ones, ask God to cure you of your frivolity and silly ways! Thus your prayer becomes intimate, personal, beautiful, and sincere. Distractions from God are the only ones that should worry you. Distractions from the subject matter of your meditation don’t count. Turn your distractions into prayer. Then distractions are no longer distractions. But what about my neat little plan for a meditation on the Annunciation? Well, God, in His Providence, has directed the conversation along different lines! Your conversation has taken a different turn from the one you had planned. But that doesn’t matter! You are still talking to God. That does matter. That is prayer!

A WORD ABOUT TEMPTATION

A type of distraction, which we definitely do not want and which can come to us during our prayer to disturb us, is temptation. It comes straight from the devil without the slightest fault on our part. Often these temptations will be against Holy Purity and they will be strong, sometimes even hideous. There is little chance that aided by God’s grace, you will yield to them. But that is not what the devil is after. All he wants to do is to disturb your prayer. He wants you to become alarmed and agitated, utterly appalled at the awful evil that is presented to you, to become scrupulous and terrified that such thoughts should come to you at such a holy time. No thought is too bad for him to suggest, no image too obscene for him to evoke. If we panic he has won. Let the storm rage; turn your mind Quietly from it back to God or to Our Lady. Let the temptation serve as an incentive to more fervent prayer, not as a motive for panic and alarm. Then you will find that it will vanish quickly. Satan never plays a losing game for long. Remember, too, that the devil is like a dog chained to a kennel. He can only bark at you but never bite unless you go and put your ankle into his mouth. If you don’t do this there is no reason for fear. You are a fool if you allow his barking to alarm you!

BODILY POSTURE

A further help in your battle against distractions is a reverend bodily posture. The devil is very anxious to persuade us that this makes no difference to our prayer. He always remembers and wants us to forget that we are half animals and that whatever our bodies do affects our souls. When you want to work hard, you clear the decks for action; you clean away the rubbish on your table and sit up straight in your chair. This helps you to fix your mind on the work to be done. If you lounge in an armchair your attention will wander. This is an ordinary psychological principle that we put into practice daily, almost automatically. But we can forget to apply it to our prayer. If we take up a lazy bodily posture, distractions will-even though we don’t want them-come floating into our minds. We have left the door wide open. That is why the saints have always insisted that when we pray we should always assume, not a strained or unnatural posture, but a reverend one. There is no need when we kneel to pray to stiffen and tense our whole frame, to clasp our hands tightly together or dig our knuckles into our temples! A reverend posture is not one of frigid immobility. It is possible, even most desirable, that we be relaxed as well as reverend.

INTO G OD’S PRESENCE

If only we realised that it is to God we are speaking when we pray! Then, I think, our posture would take care of itself. For how could we kneel in a slovenly, lazy fashion or sprawl in bench or chair once we realised we were in the presence of Our Lord and our God? Our conversation with Him, too, would cease to be a mechanical meaningless formula of words. Instead, it would become more earnest, sincere, intimate and satisfying. Isn’t it always easy and pleasant to speak to one who loves us and whom we know is listening sympathetically? Yes, if only we could develop a greater awareness of God’s Presence our prayer would improve tremendously. Distractions would he less powerful; they would not come so readily nor remain so long unchecked. Rarely would they steal our minds away to worlds of dreams and fancy for the entire time of our prayer. For we would realise quickly that they were taking us away from God and so would leave them to hasten back to Him. That is why all the great spiritual writers have always insisted that we should never begin to pray without first recalling the fact of God’s presence. The language they have used telling you to do this may have frightened you a bit. Such phrases as “Putting yourself in the presence of God,” “making an act of God’s Presence.” may have sounded meaningless to you or struck you as rather strange; mysterious or mystical. But to recall God’s Presence to mind is really quite a simple matter. You can learn to do it easily and almost naturally. But it is of vital importance for success in prayer.

IT’S SO EASY TO FORGET

Why is it so Important? For the very simple reason that we can forget all about God’s presence so easily! If a blind man is told that he is in the presence of a great personage he will behave with respect. But because he is blind and cannot see that person he easily forgets he is present and, having forgotten he is present ceases to behave with reverence. It is much the same, St. Francis de Sales tells us, with ourselves. Because we cannot see God, even though faith tells of His presence, we easily forget about it and behave as if God were very far from us. As the blind man has to be reminded that he Is standing before a great person, so must we remind ourselves as we go to pray that we are going into the presence of God. How are we to do this? It is really quite simple. St. Francis do Sales has outlined four easy ways.

GOD IS EVERYWHERE

God is everywhere. Quietly recall this fact. Then make a firm act of faith in it. Don’t try to use your imagination and to pictureGod everywhere. If you do you won’t succeed and will only give yourself a headache! No, just accept the fact and make a firm act of belief in It. Calmly and tranquilly, without strain or fuss, say to your-self some words likethose of St. Francis: “0 my heart, 0 my heart, God is truly here.” This you can say whether you are kneeling by your bedside or an armchair in the drawing-room, whether walking along crowded streets or journeying in a bus through heavy traffic or while alone in the countryside under a starlit sky. God is everywhere. . The world is filled with his grandeur. This thought has inspired great poetry. If we use it, it will inspire fervent prayer.

HEART OF YOUR HEART

The second way to recall God’s presence is to think that not only is God everywhere but that He dwells within you in a very special manner. He is in your heart and in the depths of your spirit which he quickens and animates by His divine presence. “He Is there,” as St. Francis de Sales says so strikingly, “as the heart of your heart, the spirit of your spirit.” But do not try to imagine Him there, still less try to feel that He is there. Simply recall the fact. Make an act of faith in it. Then speak to thesweet Guest within your soul. He is the God of your heart. “In Him we live, move and have our being.”

“WHO ART IN HEAVEN”

In the prayer Our Lord taught us the very first words direct out attention to the fact of God’s presence: “Our Father, Who art in Heaven.” We consider God as He is in Heaven, looking down on us as we pray. He gazes upon us, observes our actions and listens to our words. But He looks upon us-and let us always remember this-not with the eyes of a suspicious warder but with the tender gaze of a loving Father. Once again, this truth is a fact. We have it on the word of Christ Himself. If we recall it before we pray, will it not surely give an impetus to our efforts?

THE REAL PRESENCE

The everyday phrases we use to describe the presence of Jesus In the Blessed Eucharist can sometimes be misleading. We speak of “the Blessed Sacrament,” “the Real Presence “; we say “ we are going to make a visit to the Church.” Such phrases, of course, are accurate and we use them because we do not wish to parade our Intimate affection for Jesus really present there, with His very Flesh and Blood, His Soul and Divinity. But they are apt to make us forget that when we enter a church we are not merely going into a place but are visiting a Person we are calling upon Our Lord and Our King, Our Master and Friend. This truth we know and have accepted, probably from our earliest childhood Indeed, we are prepared to die for it. But if we do not recall it to our minds, if we do not stir up our belief in the Presence of Jesus, this truth will not vitalize our prayer. We will concentrate our attention on the tabernacle, the stainglass, the sanctuary lamp, or the statues. Who would think of visiting a friend’s house and of spending most bf the time admiring the furniture and fittings without hardly ever speaking a word to their host? Do not we act sometimes in such a way when we visit Jesus in the church? Before St. Ignatius ever entered a church he would pause for just a moment and recall where he was going, then would he enter joyfully into the presence of his Lord and Master. Such a simple act of recollection might well bring about a complete transformation of our prayer when we make it before Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament. Our genuflection would become an act of personal adoration instead of an automatic (and sometimes ungainly!) movement of our limbs. Almost immediately we would find ourselves speaking to Our Lord and our prayer flowing easily.

If we wish to improve our prayer we should always commence it by making use of one of these four ways of putting ourselves in the presence of God. However, we should not try to make use of them all together, but only one at a time, and that briefly and simply.

BEWARE OF SELFISH PRAYER?

Everybody will admit that selfishness spoils a character and makes a person, no matter how beautiful or outwardly charming they may seem, unlovable and unpopular. But few people seem to realise that selfishness can insinuate Itself into our prayer and make it very imperfect. It enters by the path of excessive introspection.

People nowadays are becoming more and more preoccupied about themselves. Self-analysis has become almost a fashion. Pause for a moment at the colourful display at any news-stall. Pick up one of the bright magazines and skim through its pages. Almost certainly you will find some article telling you to turn your gaze

In upon yourself. You will be told to ask yourself: “Have I got Personality? “, “Do I possess Poise? “, “Can I make friends? “, “Am I aware of my phobias? “, “Am I a good hostess?” and so on and so forth. Nor is it unknown for some glamorouslady, probably thrice divorced, to have the impertinence to ask you: “Are you making a success of your marriage?” All this popular writing reflects a common modern trend. It is the tendency to turn our eyes in on ourselves rather than out upon the world about us and, especially, up towards our God who has made us. All of us, to a greater or lesser degree, are influenced by this current fashion. We examine ourselves often; too easily we become preoccupied about our appearance, our character, our personality, our health. If we do not watch our step we can become very self-centred. Now, not for one moment do I mean to suggest that self-examination is a bad thing. It is not. The person who never considers himself usually ends up by never considering anyone else either. The unreflective soul can be quite a menace, blithely wounding the feelings of others without even being aware of it himself! Self-examination is necessary. It is a good thing. But, as has often been said, you can have too much of a good thing. “Some people,” Chesterton once said, “are always pulling themselves up by the roots to see if they are growing.” That is happening quite a lot today.

There is quite a danger that this tendency to be over-preoccupied about ourselves can affect our prayer. When it does, dissatisfaction and discouragement result. If we spend our meditation time scraping our souls, dissecting our motives, analysing our every action, we will end up dispirited and tensed. Our prayer should not have that effect. After all, we go to it to pull ourselves together, not to tear ourselves apart! It should be for us a source of encouragement and inspiration. We should arise from it spiritually refreshed, stronger and more ready to meet the trials of life with a little more serenity and good-humour and a lot more confidence in God.

CIRCLING ROUND OURSELVES

An example, perhaps, will help to show how some people center their prayer upon themselves rather than upon God. They decide, let us say, to meditate on the Gospel scene which describes Our Lord healing a leper. They read the incident in the New Testament. They begin to reflect. Almost immediately they turn in upon themselves:”I have not got leprosy, thank God . . . but sin is moral leprosy . . . have I got sin on my soul? Did I confess that sin? I did but I am in danger of falling again . . . because of my laziness, my frivolous companions, my bad temper . . . I must avoid these faults (little thought of asking God’s grace!) . . . I shall do this and I shall do that . . .” and so the meditation continues, ever circling around that little “I”! This is only an example, of course, and it is slightly exaggerated. But it does mirror the pattern of our prayer from time to time, doesn’t it?

What is the result of such an approach to prayer? Surely it must be rather gloomy? We have spent all our time with ourselves and not with God. “If we seek ourselves,” Thomas a’Kempis remarks somewhat grimly, “we shall find ourselves-but to our own ruin.” We have not escaped from our own pettiness into the bracing companionship of Our Lord. We have gained no new knowledge of Christ, nor no renewal of love for Him. One of the effects of our prayer should be that our lives become more Christ like. But how can we become like Christ If we do not know what Christ is like? We can only learn that by looking upon Him when we pray, not by looking on ourselves. It is true; of course, that the spiritual writers on meditation tell us that when we have meditated upon some scene we “should reflect upon ourselves.” What most people do, however, is to take the briefest of glances at Christ and then a prolonged gaze at themselves! The procedure should be reversed.

COPY THE MODEL

What does an artist do when he is painting a portrait? He keeps his eyes fixed on the person he is painting, watches their every feature, studies their expression and works on his canvas, sometimes almost without seeming to look at it. So he manages to reproduce the living image of his model. What happens if he hardly ever glances at the person he wishes to paint and spends all his time gazing at the canvas, grumbling about its poor material, its many flaws? No picture will be painted and probably he will end up throwing his brushes into the air and pulling out his hair! The aim of our prayer is to produce the likeness of Christ in our souls so that it may shine froth in our everyday actions. If we are to succeed we must gaze upon our Model, Jesus Christ.

LOOK UPON JESUS

Let us take the scene of Christ healing the leper and meditate upon it in a different way, forgetting about ourselves. Let us look upon Our Lord, what of His actions, listen to His words, trying to divine the thoughts in His mind, the emotions of His Sacred Heart. See the leper approach Our Lord, his appalling state, his piteous appeal: “If Thou wilt, Thou canst make me clean.” Watch the face of Our Lord, the tenderness of His expression, revealing the love of His Heart which is “moved with compassion.” Observe His actions . . . gentle, kindly, inspired by delicacy of thought . . . He stretches forth His hand and touches him. No other man would have dared touch this stricken wretch or even approach him . . . all this Jesus knows and so He touches him to show His love, to give him confidence . . . So we can continue our meditation, keeping our eyes on Jesus. Should we turn in on ourselves for a moment and see the leprosy of sin on our own soul we will not be depressed but rather filled with confidence to turn to Our Lord and to make the prayer of the leper our own: “If Thou wilt, Thou canst make me clean.”

THE RESULT

The results of a meditation made in this way are refreshing. If we stay looking upon Jesus we cannot but be captivated by the charm of His Personality, encouraged by His kindness.

Surely we cannot but feel our hearts grow warm within us, becoming enkindled with a love for Him that will urge us to do something for Him? We will be in a better position, too, to make our lives more Christ like. By looking upon Jesus we learn to knowHim. In the various circumstances of our lives we will be able to say to ourselves: “Well, I know what Hewould think about this.” We shall also be inspired to imitate Him. For knowledge leads to love and love to imitation. That Is why St. Ignatius always recommends us to pray before we start a meditation on the life of Our Lord for the grace “to knew Him more intimately, to love Him more prudently so as to follow Him more closely.” St. Paul gave the same advice to the Hebrews when they were hard pressed: “Let us run by patience to the fight proposed to us: looking upon Jesus, Who having joy set before Him endured the cross . . . think diligently on Him, that you be not wearied, fainting in your minds” (Hebrews: vv. 1–3). If we stay with Jesus in our prayer we will find it easy enough to follow His own exhortation to pray always and not to faint. Without Him we can do nothing.

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Miracles

BY REV. RONALD A. KNOX

INDEX

THE POSSIBILITY OF MIRACLES

HERE is a significant story to be found in one of the less familiar byways of Old Testament history. When Israel had been oppressed for seven years under the tyrannous yoke of the Midianites, God would raise up a deliverer for His people; and His choice fell upon Gedeon, a hero of little estimation, till then, in the world’s eyes; “Behold,” he says, “my family is the meanest in Manasses, and I am the least in my father’s house.” Humility, rather than want of faith, made Gedeon ask for a sign, a miraculous sign, that this strange vocation was really meant for him. And Almighty God saw fit to indulge his request. Gedeon laid a fleece of wool on the ground, and left it there all night. The first night the fleece alone was wet with dew, when all the ground was dry; the next night, the fleece alone was dry, and there was dew on all the ground. An unfamiliar incident, and one which would hardly be remembered by ordinary Christian folk but for the providential accident that it serves us for a type of our Blessed Lady’s Child-bearing; she, like Gedeon’s fleece, was the one spot in our benighted and parched world where the dew of Divine Grace could find a lodgment, when in the fulness of time we were set free from the tyranny of our sins.

I say, a significant story, because it seems to me that it throws into relief a very important consideration which we are apt to overlook when we discuss the subject of miracles. What consideration? Why, this-that those special exercises of Divine power which we call miracles are not in themselves greater, are not in themselves more sensational, are not in themselves more deserving of our gratitude than His ordinary operations in nature. It was a wonderful sight, doubtless, when after a sleepless night spent between hope and self-distrust, Gedeon went out at dawn to find the fleece wringing wet, glistening like silver in the grey light of morning. And yet, when he went out the next day, was there not a still more wonderful vision awaiting him? A whole world silvered with dew, diamonds shining from every blade of grass and every fallen leaf, the very gossamer in the fields a patch-work of filigree? You have seen as much yourself, maybe, on some early summer morning in the country. Oh no, there was nothing wonderful about it, of course; you were quite right; it was just dew . . . Nothing wonderful, because we’re so accustomed to it, because we take it so for granted. When you saw that sight long ago, with the clear eyes of childhood, or with the transfiguring vision of first love, perhaps you caught the marvel of it; and since then, what exactly has happened? Is it that the dew-drenched world is less wonderful? Or that you have lost your faculty of wonder?

It is important to realize that the same power which covered a single fleece with dew one night covered a whole landscape with dew the next night. And which was the marvel? Which showed the greater exercise of power, which signalized God’s bounty in greater profusion? The first night, or the second? Because in the second instance we can account for the phenomenon, whereas in the first instance we cannot account for the phenomenon, we call the first instance a miracle. But if we had not lost the child’s faculty of wonder, we should see the same hand at work on the second night as on the first, only with more widespread effect, only with richer largesse. The same hand, the same power, only exercised in a different way. The same power which sent the stars rolling on their courses gives sudden health to some poor cripple at Lourdes, and we say, “Impossible!” The feeding of the Five Thousand, that taxes our powers of belief to the utmost. And yet, as St. Augustine pointed out long ago, what is the feeding of the five thousand compared with that patient process by which vast plains of wheat shootup and bud and mature, under God’s hand, to make the slices of bread which you forgot to say grace over yesterday? The same hand, the same power.

A miracle, though it ought to mean any event, natural or supernatural, which claims our wonder, is the term technically applied to a particular class of the wonderful works of God. God ordinarily brings events to pass in the natural world by means of secondary causes. When He suspends for a moment the action of those secondary causes, we call it a miracle. There are those who deny that any event of this kind has ever happened. And their arguments can be conveniently classed under three heads: Can God do miracles? Would God do miracles? And does God do miracles? I am not going to consider at present the question whether, as a matter of fact, miracles have ever happened. I want first to establish two points; that God can do miracles, if He will; and that there are circumstances in which we should expect God to do miracles, if He can.

Can God do miracles? From its very terms, such a question cannot be discussed with those who deny the existence of a deity. But there have been, and are people who are bound to return a negative to that question, because their philosophy has a conception of Almighty God’s nature which is altogether different from ours. A century or two ago, it was the Deists who felt bound to deny miracles. Today, it is the Pantheists who feel bound to deny miracles. Deism was a passing fashion of yesterday, as Pantheism is a passing fashion of today. The one is the precise opposite of the other, but what of that? It is the world’s way to shift between extremes. The Church looks on with patience; she has seen so many of these changing moods, and she has outlived them all. The Deists thought of creation as a machine which God had bound up, once for all, and left it to run its course by the inexorable law of its own mechanism. He was, indeed, the First Cause, and the Prime Mover, but He did not uphold and govern His creation, He had left it to itself, as a man sets a ball rolling or a top spinning and goes his way. Naturally, such philosophers had to disbelieve in miracle. For a single variation from the unswerving laws by which the natural creation was governed would mean a spoke in the wheel, an interference which must needs set the whole machinery out of gear. The Pantheists of today think of Almighty God, rather, as if He were caught up in the wheels of His own machine. He is essential to our existence, says the Pantheist, but then, we in our turn are essential to His. He is to the world what man’s soul is to man’s body, a spiritual principle which pervades and inspires this mass of material creation. And of course, a God so conceived cannot stand outside His own Creation, cannot exempt Himself, therefore, from its natural laws, which are laws for Him no less than for us; once more, then, miracles must be declared impossible.

We have not time to consider here how grossly inadequate are both those conceptions of God. I will only say of such a God as that, that I would not cross the street to worship him. Those who would shelter themselves under the Christian name are committed to a very different understanding of the Divine Nature. In the beginning was God; before suns or stars set out upon their course, He existed, eternally independent, eternally Self-sufficing; no room for Pantheism here. And yet, are not two sparrows sold for a farthing? And not one of them shall fall to the ground without your Father . . . the Deist, no less than the Pantheist, is silenced by the Christian revelation. For us, the Power which made the worlds out of nothing is the Power which still upholds, from day to day, from moment to moment, this vast fabric of Creation; it can experience no effect of which He is not the Cause, it can be stirred by no motion of which He is not the originator. Not one of them shall fall to the ground without your Father-when a sparrow flies against a telegraph wire and falls dead, it is He Who supplies the force of its flight, and the resistance with which it meets; His Hand communicates the impact of the shock to the little fluttering heart, and draws the lifeless creature down into the bosom of its parent earth. That is the God we Christians worship.

But, you say, that is nonsense, that is to throw out a silly challenge to the whole world of science. If dew falls on the ground, you say, that is because the moisture with which the air is laden has condensed with the chill of night- that is the cause which produces the effect. The secondary cause, yes; the scientific cause, yes; but none of these secondary causes could operate for a moment without the concurrence of Almighty God. It is the law of gravitation which brings the sparrow to the ground; true enough, yet the law of gravitation itself-what is it but the direct expression of His will? Ordinarily, in all the million details of our daily experience, He works thus, expressing His will through the laws which Science tabulates for us, laws which operate uniformly, no effect without its cause, back to the first amoeba in which life was found, back to the first nebula from which matter took birth-and yet, all the time it is His power, directly exercised, which lends these causes their efficacy. You are puzzled by miracles? I tell you, if you could only recognize the necessity of God’s action in the world, the fall of a sparrow to the ground would be ten thousand times more staggering to your poor, finite imagination. It is a thing to make you dream at night, and wake gasping with the wonder of it.

And a miracle -a miracle is a very simple thing by comparison. It happens when, once and again in these long aeons of the world’s existence, God expresses His will more directly, by suspending for a moment, at one tiny pin-point of space, the operation of those laws which could have no force and no validity but from Him. Just in the millionth instance God does, without the aid of secondary causes, what He is continually doing by means of secondary causes. Just in the millionth instance He multiplies bread instead of multiplying the wheat. Just in the millionth instance He will have the dew form not everywhere but just here. Is that so much of a privilege to claim for the Omnipotent? Is that impossible with God, with such a God?

I may be pardoned for giving a very simple and a very vulgar illustration; I use it reluctantly because I want to bring this point home. There are such people as newspaper proprietors; and some of these proprietors are in the habit of dictating, from day to day, the policy of the papers they own. All the leading articles-we will not speak of the news service-are written by men who are paid to express, in every line they write, the will of a newspaper proprietor.

Now, suppose that once in ten years, on some exceptionally important occasion, a newspaper proprietor should write his own leading article. What is he doing? He is doing what he does every day; the only difference is that just this once he is doing directly what he has been doing daily for ten years through the instrumentality of others. That will give some idea of what I mean when I say that the God Who operates continually through secondary causes has the right, if He will, to dispense with secondary causes.

II

THE PROBABILITY OF MIRACLES

But now, granted that God can do miracles, would He do miracles? It has become a fashion, among the more timorous and compromising Protestant theologians of our time, to admit that in the abstract God has the power to do miracles if He would, but to pretend that it is in some way beneath His dignity to do them. The idea of miracles, for their minds, savors too much of a theatrical performance; it suggests, somehow, that the natural Creation with its natural laws is not a perfect one, inasmuch as these natural laws have to be suspended in their operation, from time to time, in face of special emergencies. They do not care to think of the law of gravitation as if it were like some human enactment which on the whole deals out justice, but has occasionally to be mitigated in its operation, where the circumstances are exceptional. Cannot we trust Providence (they say), guiding its own course in accordance with those uniform laws of nature which science discloses to us, to bring out everything for the best, without these violent interruptions, without these sudden reversals of the natural process, which we call miracle?

There is just this much worth in that argument, that it would be, manifestly, derogatory to all our ideas of God’s dignity if we supposed that He performed miracles frivolously, capriciously, without sufficient cause. It is only with great misgiving and full consciousness of our limited knowledge that we, His creatures, can presume to guess what God would or would not do. But everything which revelation or natural theology can tell us about the character of God, everything which Science can teach us about the uniformity of Nature, fortifies us in the belief that miracles are a very exceptional feature in God’s ordinance of the world, designed to meet exceptional needs. We are not to multiply miracles beyond what is necessary. To take a very simple way of illustrating that, let me suggest that Almighty God would not do a sensible miracle in circumstances where there was nobody there to see or to be conscious of the experience. Miracles are a message from Him addressed to man; they would not occur unless man were present to witness them. I think it is not presuming too much upon our human philosophy to suggest that.

They are a message addressed from God to Man. And, although they may have various secondary purposes-the relief of human pain, the satisfaction of human needs, the vindication of innocence against injustice, and so on-they have all one primary purpose, and that is to be an evidence-if the word had not become vulgarized in our day, I would say an advertisement-of His Almighty Power. To prove that He does govern the world; to prove that the Catholic Church is His Church, bearing the seal of His commission; to prove that this or that man or woman is a Saint, one of His special friends, and therefore worthy of special honor from the faithful-that is the sort of motive which is a sufficient motive to call this special exercise of His power into play.

But, you say, if miracles are only an evidence of God’s power, surely they must be unnecessary? Hav e we not just agreed that His natural operations are, in themselves, more wonderful even than miracles? Why cannot we be content, then, to learn His Omnipotence from the lightning and from the sunset, from the multitudinous perfections of creation, from the delicate workmanship of leaf and petal, from the patterns which the frost traces on our windows? Having left us such witness of Himself, having set upon our world this seal of creative wisdom, would He do more than that? Would He try to arrest our attention by breaking His own laws, as the more vulgar kind of modern music arrests our attention by working discords into its harmony? Must He sacrifice consistency, to advertise Omnipotence?

The answer to that objection is twofold. In the first place, God does not do miracles merely to display His power, merely to show that He can do them. He does miracles, because He wants to draw our attention to this or that valuable movement among our fellow-men, to this or that sanctified career. What is more important, than that we should take notice of a Saint? And who is more anxious that we should take no notice of him, than the Saint himself? The very humility of the Saints would defeat God’s purpose for them, if He did not take His own steps to shed lustre upon their selfeffacing virtues. It is a miracle that gives us the assurance: “Behold My servant, whom I have chosen.”

And there is this further answer to be made. Doubtless we .ought not to need miracles, but we do. If Adam had never fallen, perhaps the course of nature would have gone on uninterrupted; sufficient for mankind its daily intimacy with God, its unspoiled admiration of His marvelous works. Nay, even if fallen man had succeeded in maintaining such intimacy, such admiration, perhaps there would have been no need of miracles to catch our wandering attention. But we forget Him so easily, that He has to startle us out of our forgetfulness. So a great artist might trust that the skillfulness of his own painting would be enough warrant of its genuineness; and yet-men are so hesitating, so hard to please! At the last moment he scrawls his PINXIT in the corner. Miracles are God’s signature, appended to His masterpiece of creation; not because they ought to be needed, but because they are needed. And if you doubt it, tell me of any religion that has realty affected millions of men, really stirred their hearts, that did not claim miracles for its sanction.

MIRACLES IN THE GOSPELS

ST. John, in the reminiscences which he has left to us of his Master’s utterances, has been careful, I think, to preserve for us those which explain why it is perilous for a man to neglect the message of the Gospel. He insists, or rather he reminds us how Our Lord insisted, en the terrible truth that though God became Man in order to save us from our sins, His Coming not only saves; it also condemns. When the claim of our Lord Jesus Christ becomes clear to a man, it presents him with a formidable alternative. He may accept it, and save his soul. Or he may reject it, and then he is worse off than he would have been if he had never heard the name of Christ. The revelation of Himself which Almighty God gave to the world in the Face of His Incarnate Son is not a thing to be played with. It is a two-edged sword that pierces the hearts of men and divides them into two categories-those who accept and those who reject it.

It follows, surely, from that, that this revelation must be fully accredited, must bear unmistakable signs of being a direct revelation from God to men. If any room were left for reasonable doubt, then surely He would not be so strict in calling us to account for the hearing we gave it, the welcome we offered to it in our lives. If a Government passes a law which attaches the death penalty to some particular form of wrong-doing, it will be careful above all things that the promulgation of this law is attended with every possible circumstance of solemnity. It must be published in official form, in official language, the seal of the Sovereign himself must be attached to it for all to see. Otherwise, men might excuse themselves for disobeying the law on the ground that they doubted whether the proclamation was genuine or a forgery. So, when God gave us His revelation, with all the terrible responsibility it involved for human souls, He would not leave its genuineness in doubt. He put his seal upon it, and that seal was miracle. If I had not done among them the works that no other man hath done, they would not have sin; but now, now that they have seen My miracles and nevertheless rejected Me, they have both seen and hated both Me and My Father.

So Our Lord said of His contemporaries. And now, what of us, to whom the story of those mighty works comes down as a memory from the distant past, a faint echo in history? There is one very stupid thing which is constantly said on this subject, which we had better examine at once. You will hear people say, “We, in our day, believe the Gospel in spite of the miracles it records, not because of them. To us, miracles make it harder, not easier, to accept the Christian faith.” Now, if you examine that statement for a moment, you will see that it rests on a very silly confusion. In order to believe the Gospel, you must do two things. You must first of all convince yourself that the narrative which the Evangelists have left us is true; and then you must decide whether the Church is right in inferring, from the narrative, that the Hero of the story was Incarnate God. Now, it’s quite true to say that the miracles which are recorded in the Gospel don’t make it easier for us to believe in the truth of the narrative. But then, who ever thought they would? Who ever, in his wildest dreams, imagined that a document was MORE likely to be historically accurate because it represented its Hero as walking on the water, instead of walking on the land? The suggestion is ridiculous. No, the value of miracle comes in when we reach the second process, the process of proving that the Church is right in representing the Hero of the Gospels as Incarnate God. Now, is anybody going to be such a fool as to tell us that miracles make it harder for us, instead of easier for us, to believe that? Is anybody going to say: “What! Did Christ walk on the water? Then of course He can’t have been God! Did Christ rise from the dead? Then of course He can’t have been God”? Obviously, if the Gospels give us satisfactory evidence that Our Lord walked on the water and rose from the dead, then that is the best possible proof that the claim He made was true.

I will go further, and say it is the only adequate proof that His claim was true. I will not speak dogmatically here; I will simply record my own religious state of mind. I will simply say that if it were not for the miracles which the Gospel records (including among those the fulfillment of Old Testament prophecies) I would not, personally, be a Christian. I should think it a treachery to my reason to accept the divine claim of an unmiraculous Christ. I know that there are people who will tell you that even if Our Lord had done no miracles on earth they would have accepted, and would have felt bound to accept, His assertion of His own Deity. For myself, I could not accept it, and should think the worse of others if they did.

But, you say, was it not enough for Our Lord’s contemporaries to see His face enlightened by a charity not of this world, to hear His gracious speech, to watch His unfailing meekness and patience, His sympathy with the poor and the outcast? With such evidence before their eyes, was it not their duty to hail Him as a God? Theirs perhaps; but mine? No artist has put on record for me, even if I could trust the skill of artists, that heavenly beauty of which you speak; the accents of that gracious speech had faded from the world before my living memory; the record of His actions which is left to us is very far from complete, and, at this distance of years, it is not different in kind from other records of sanctity, the record of St. Francis, the record of St. Philip Neri. It is a biography to which even the most cynical of readers is bound to pay homage, as the story of an amazing human career; but do we dare to say that the Hero of it is self-evidently God?

But at least (you insist) if that living revelation of a human Character which was enough for His contemporaries is not enough for you, sundered from it as you are by the centuries and by the changing fashions of human thought, have not His own words been put on record for you; and do not they attest His Divinity? “Never man spoke like this man,”-that was the verdict of His audience, and has not the written word power to move our hearts as well? Once more I say, they are words whose spiritual beauty even scoffers have recognized, even His enemies have been unable to traduce. But is there anything He said which a merely human teacher could not have said? And, even if you tell me that the words themselves bear the hallmark of a Divine origin, is it not perfectly possible that God may have chosen a merely human prophet for His mouthpiece? That He Who spoke through Moses spoke through Jesus Christ? What evidence, then, that this unique Spokesman of Almighty God was Himself Divine?

But stay -there is a point we have overlooked. This unique historical Figure, Jesus of Nazareth, Whose Life was so transparently holy, Whose reported utterances are such a store-house of heavenly wisdom, did CLAIM to be God. We cannot think of such a Prophet as a conscious impostor; to write Him down a madman, the victim of a hallucination, would be false to the whole picture which our records give of Him: you cannot associate delusions or hysteria with such a Personality as this! Why then, if He said He was God, He must have been God; there is no other way to it. . . . I know; that argument is frequently used. God forgive me if I am putting difficulties in anybody’s way, but it seems to me that it carries weight as an indication, yet stops short of proof. And we demand, remember, nothing less than proof; He Himself, this Hero of the Gospels, puts forth an absolute claim; to refuse it is not merely to miss a spiritual opportunity, but to involve yourself in a condemnation; He claims, then, to have proved His case. And the notion that unique spiritual gifts are compatible with delusions, and even with hysteria, may be a very improbable, but it is not a strictly impossible notion. The whole history of religious enthusiasm bears witness that the highest sanctity often runs on the very border-lines of sanity. To write down Jesus of Nazareth as a deluded fanatic is bad history, I grant you. But if you cut the miraculous out of the story, it is not impossible history.

How, then, was God to reveal Himself? What further seal could He set upon the earthly Mission of His Onlybegotten Son? There was nothing that He could do, except to usher in His coming by catastrophes of nature; that is, by miracle. And there are two more points in this connection which are not remembered as carefully as they deserve to be.

In the first place, Our Lord did not come to earth unexpected and unannounced; He made no sudden intrusion into our world. He came to people who had been taught to expect His coming; their prophets, long ago, had look forward to a Deliverer Who should save His people from their sins. When He came, the eyes of the blind were to be opened, the ears of the deaf were to be unstopped; the lame man should leap as an hart, and the tongue of the dumb should sing. That means that the Messiah Who was expected was a Messiah Who should come with miracle. And that was the popular expectation of Our Lord’s own day. “When the Christ comes,” they said, “will He do more miracles than these?” The Jews were expecting, and expecting with justice, a miraculous Messiah. Did Christ come to them without miracle, and condemn them for rejecting Him?

Another point. Our Lord Himself claimed to do miracles, and pointed to His miracles as the evidence of His Divinity. “If I had not done among them the works that no other man hath done, they would not have sin.” “Or else believe for the very works” sake.” And, in answer to John’s question whether He were the Messiah, “Go and tell John what you see and hear; the blind see, the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear.” And to the Pharisees, “If I by the finger of God cast out devils, then doubtless the kingdom of God is come among you.” And above all, He pointed forward to the crowning miracle of His Resurrection. Deliberately He flung out a challenge to His critics; let them kill Him, and He would prove them in the wrong by triumphing over death. “Destroy this temple, and in three days I will raise it up.” “No sign shall be given to this generation but the sign of Jonas the prophet. For as Jonas was three days and three nights in the whale’s belly, so shall the Son of Man be in the heart of the earth three days and three nights.” And repeatedly, when He foretold His Passion to His disciples, He foretold that on the third day He would rise again. He issued a challenge; and if He never fulfilled the terms of that challenge, if it was only some pale Ghost that left the Tomb on Easter morning, can He blame us, can He condemn us, if we fail to believe?

I say, then, that if ever there was an occasion when it was antecedently probable that God would signalize His Almighty power by miracle, it was here. A revelation came from Him which claimed to be an unmistakable revelation; and it could not be unmistakable, unless it were accompanied by miracle. He had foretold it through His prophets, and had foretold that it would be accompanied by miracle. Finally, He Who came to make that revelation pointed to His miraculous powers as evidence of His Divinity. And now, what are the historical facts?

We have four records of the Incarnate Life in question. Everybody admits that they were all in circulation a hundred years or so after the events they record; that two of them at least were in circulation forty years after the events they record. Three of them at least were written by simple men who set out merely to report the facts which they had witnessed with their own eyes or heard from eyewitnesses; had no theological thesis to defend, no theories to maintain. There is no conceivable reason why those records should not be accepted as unreservedly as, let us say, Caesar’s commentaries. No reason whatever, except one. They report miracles.

They tell us that the Hero of their story was not born according to the wont of man; He was conceived in the Womb of a pure Virgin. As He went about the earth, He was not content to cure sicknesses by a power that could be mistaken for faith-healing; He walked upon the water, He multiplied five loaves to feed five thousand, He changed water into wine. Murdered by His enemies, He rose from the dead the third day, and the very Tomb in which His Body had been laid was found, the third day, a cenotaph. That is the story which these records tell, in the same calm, dispassionate accents in which Caesar chronicles his military operations.

Where they report miracles, in so far as they report miracles, these records are discredited by the critics of today—why? BECAUSE they report miracles. Was there ever such madman’s logic? We prove to them that Almighty God can do miracles. We prove to them that He is likely to do miracles, given sufficient cause. We prove to them that the revelation of Himself which He made to the world not merely gave sufficient cause for miracles, but demanded miracles if it was to be a revelation at all. And then we say, Here are the miracles; here is the record of them. And they say, Oh, but we can’t accept that record. Indeed, we say, and why not? Why not? (they answer), Oh, because it reports miracles.

Of course, if you found a chapter in Caesar’s commen taries which purported to describe how Caesar fed the Tenth Legion with five loaves and two fishes, you would do right to suspect that that chapter was spurious. Not because miracles are impossible, but because in such a case the conditions are absent which make miracles probable. Caesar made no claim to supernatural powers, needed no argument, save the sword, to support his authority. But the Gospels deal with a situation in which miracles are not only natural; they are necessary. Our Lord was not proving that He was a prophet, was not proving that He was a man entrusted with a divine mission. He was proving that He had been personally present when the foundations of the earth were laid, when the morning stars sang their praises together, and all the sons of God made a joyful melody. He was proving that He had existed from all eternity, the Co-equal Word of the Omnipotent Father. Was He to prove this by earnest moral exhortations, by devoted missionary zeal, by patient endurance of indignities? Put Raphael down at a street-corner as a pavement-artist, what proof can he give of his identity but to paint like Raphael? Bring God down to earth, what proof can He give of His Godhead but to command the elements like God?

Don’t mistake me; I don’t mean to deny, or to underestimate, the moral witness of Our Lord’s life, His kindness, His gentleness, His patience, His indignation against human wrongs. Without that moral witness, a string of reported miracles would not have sufficed to convince us that here indeed was God come down to earth. But that moral witness, by itself, though it may be a sufficient basis for the namby-pamby theologies of today, would not be an adequate proof of Godhead if it were not combined with the witness of Our Lord’s miracles. In Power and in Goodness God is made known to us by His creation; and when He came to make Himself known to us afresh by His Incarnation the same twofold seal was required. Man was to recognize, beyond all possibility of excuse, that the two revelations showed the masterstroke of the same Artist’s hand. To know and to reject Jesus Christ was to have seen and to have hated both Him and His Heavenly Father.

IV

MIRACLE IN THE HISTORY OF THE CHURCH

IN the Old Testament passage to which I have already referred, Gedeon is represented as asking, “Where are God’s miracles, of which our fathers have told us? But now the Lord hath forsaken us.” It seemed to him, as he looked round him at the miserable servitude of his fellow-countrymen, that somehow Almighty God either could not or would not stretch out His hand to send miraculous deliverance to His people, as He had stretched forth His hand long ago, when Moses brought them out of Egypt. It was a doubt that presented itself constantly to the Jewish people, and you will find a similar doubt in the Christian Church at almost every stage of her history. Pious people will say nowadays, “How I wish I had lived in the Middle Ages, when miracles were constantly happening! One knows they happen nowadays, but they are so rarel” Well, if you will read the Dialogues of St. Gregory, written just about six hundred years after Our Lord’s birth, just at the time when England was being converted to the Christian faith, you will find that the monk Peter raises exactly the same difficulty. Why are we so apt to make that complaint? Partly, I think, because it is our constant habit to think others better off than ourselves. Partly because Divine Providence works miracles where it will and when it will, not according to our preconceived notions of what is fitting or probable.

But always-remember this -always the Catholic Church has believed in miracles, not as something that used to happen a long time ago in Palestine, but as something that may happen anywhere, any day, given the proper conditions. And if you are arguing with some High Church objector about Continuity, and want to make him see that the Church of England after the Reformation was not the same thing as the Church of England before the Reformation, here is a good rough test. The reformed Church of England lost at once, and lost for several centuries, has, for the most part, never recovered the Catholic instinct about miracles. The old-fashioned Anglicans used to believe in miracles happening up to 60 A. D.; they had to, because it was in the Bible. But any miracle reported since that date they put down at once as a monkish fable. They did not accept miracles, did not expect miracles, did not want miracles. They had lost, you see, that instinct which we Catholics have that we are the spoilt children of Almighty God-that we never know when we may not have a surprise present in store for us.

And so they took to insisting on that rather clumsy distinction between Bible miracles and ecclesiastical miracles. There is, of course, a distinction between the two; we are bound to believe in the Bible miracles, because they are in the Bible; we are not bound as Catholics to believe in this or that miracle of later times. We’re bound to believe that St. Peter the Apostle walked on the water, because the Gospel tells us that he did. We are not bound to believe that St. Peter of Alcantara walked across “a river dry-shod”, although that story is told of him. But in this discussion I have taken the liberty of dividing my subject not into Bible miracles and ecclesiastical miracles, but into Gospel miracles and ecclesiastical miracles. We have considered the miracles which Our Lord did Himself, during His lifetime. We have to consider now the miracles which He has done and still does through the agency of His Saints, now that His feet tread no longer the ways of our earth. Unless from a mere prejudice not founded on reason you deny all possibility of miracle, the Gospel miracles need no justification. Obviously, if there was ever a moment at which miracles were likely to occur, it was when the Incarnate Son of God came into the world. How else could Almighty God have set His seal on His own revelation, marked it out unmistakably from every other human event, except by wonders and by signs? But there was no reason in the nature of the case why these manifestations should have gone on after Our Lord’s Ascension into heaven. We might have expected, even, that since this revelation was unique and final, so the manifestation of divine power which accompanied it would have been unique and final-no more walking on the water, no more rising from the dead. But as a matter of fact, if you turn to the Acts of the Apostles, you find yourself confronted with miracle. If you turn to St. Paul’s epistles, you find him justifying his own apostolic position by appealing to miracle. And wherever you turn in reading the lives of the Saints, from John the Evangelist in the first century to John Vianney in the nineteenth, you will spoil the whole lesson of them and lose the whole flavor of them if you try to leave out of sight this miraculous element in the story.

O ur Lord foretold it Himself, just before His Ascension. “These signs shall follow them that believe; In my name they shall cast out devils; they shall speak with new tongues; they shall take up serpents; and if they drink any deadly thing, it shall not hurt them. They shall lay their hands on the sick, and they shall recover.” Really, the pious Christian who reads those words might more reasonably wonder why there are so few miracles than why there are any miracles at all. We might wonder why every Ordination is not accompanied by the visible fiery tongues of Pentecost, why every beggar at every church door is not healed of his infirmities like the lame man at the Beautiful Gate. But we find, as a matter of history and as a matter of common experience, that these signs are only vouchsafed by Almighty God at distant and irregular intervals, for the most part in connection with the lives and deaths of men and women of recognizable holiness. We take the facts as we find them; we admit that miracles are not common. We admit that stories of miracles have to be accepted with reserve, and the evidence for them carefully weighed. But we do not admit that miracles never happen. We refuse to admit that, because it happens to be clean contrary to the evidence.

Of course, admirers of the Reformation will give you a very different account of the matter. They will tell you that the medieval mind was child-like, unscientific, and fond of fairy-tales; when the human race came to its maturity in the sixteenth century, the fairy-tales were put away. We of the modern world can only look back upon those fables with the affected interest which grownup people take in a doll’s house. For us, science has made it impossible to believe in miracles. We do not blame the medieval mind; but we cannot share, any longer, that unquestioning faith with which our ancestors used to accept stories of the supernatural. Science, they say, half-regretfully, has made that impossible.

To talk like that is to talk arrant nonsense. It is to talk as if the medieval world was not surprised by miracles -but it was; that is why it called them miracles. True, our ancestors thought the sun went round the earth, whereas we know that the earth goes round the sun. But they believed that the sun ALWAYS went round the earth, every day, regularly, like clockwork; always the same way, from East to West. If the sun had risen in the West one morning, Dante or St. Francis would have been just as much surprised as you or I would be. You see, they believed just as we do in the uniformity of nature. They believed that in the ordinary course of things every effect has a cause, and every cause is bound to produce its effect unless some hindrance from outside interferes with it. Every effect produced by a cause, back to the remote origins of this material universe,-that was their belief, as it is ours.

And if it had not been, they could not have believed in miracle. All this talk of an opposition between science and miracle is the merest hypocrisy. The fact is that you cannot believe in a miracle unless you believe in science. Supposing you saw a man suddenly lifted up two feet in the air. When you had satisfied yourself that it was not done by wires or mirrors, what verdict would you pass on the performance? Only two verdicts are possible. One is to say, “Why, this must be a miracle! That man is a solid body, and like all solid bodies he is attracted towards the earth’s center. No natural obstacle is counteracting the law of attraction; no scientific explanation is possible; it must, therefore, be a miracle.” That is one possible attitude; and the other possible attitude is this, to say, “There! I knew it! These scientists do not know their job! Here have they been telling me for years that a solid body is attracted towards the center of the earth, by a fixed law of nature; and now I can see for myself that it is not true. A solid body is just as likely to rise in the air as not. Henceforth, no science for me; I willnot believe in a word the fellows say.” Which of those two attitudes is the more respectful towards science? The attitude which can witness a miracle, and still preserve its faith in Sir Isaac Newton? Or the attitude which calls Sir Isaac Newton a liar because once, in exceptional circumstances, his principle, valid in itself, has been superseded by a higher principle?

The exception proves the rule. To recognize that the exception IS an exception proclaims your confidence in the rule. If I say, “What a monstrous thing that judge Jeffreys should have passed such iniquitous sentences!” am I casting aspersions on the administration of British Law? On the contrary, I am paying a great compliment to the administration of British law, by exclaiming at the injustice of Jeffreys as something monstrous, something exceptional. And in the same way, if I say, “What an extraordinary thing that this man, who has been given up by all the doctors, should be cured at Lourdes!” I am not casting aspersions on the medical faculty. On the contrary, I am paying a compliment to the medical faculty by proclaiming that a cure which took place in defiance of their best diagnosis must obviously be a miraculous cure. Mr. Bernard Shaw is one of the few Agnostics who have a consistent attitude about miracle. He does not believe in miracles, but then he does not believe in Science either. It does not impress him if a man who is despaired of by the doctors recovers at Lourdes, because it is a fixed article of his creed that doctors do not know their job. You cannot acclaim a miraculous cure without believing in the principles of medicine. You cannot cry out in astonishment at a miracle of levitation unless you believe in the law of gravitation.

In fact, what makes it difficult for us to believe in miracles is not human science; it is human nescience. A man is cured at Lourdes who for years has been, to all appearances, a paralytic. It is an answer to prayer. If the paralysis was real, genuine, organic, then the cure was a miracle. If the man was in fact a hysterical patient, if, all the time, it was no organic disturbance, but some obstinate nervous obsession that kept him chained to his bed until the shock of that vast assembly in the great Square drove him to his feet, then it was not a miracle, it was only a special Providence. And we cannot tell which-why? Because the doctors cannot tell us whether the man was, in the first instance, a hysterical patient or no. It is not Our Lady who is at fault, it is the doctors. Their tests are not accurate enough to be able to tell us whether Almighty God, in this particular act of healing, has used natural causes or supernatural causes. It is not human science, it is scientific ignorance, which has created the difficulty.

We do not resent scientific investigation into our stories of miracle; rather, we welcome it. We do not say that in a given case miracle is theologically certain; we only say that it is, so far, the best account we can give of the facts. We differ from our critics only in this, that we say, “It may be a miracle, or it may not,” whereas they say, “Whatever it is, it certainly is not a miracle.” Which side approaches the subject with an open mind, and in a spirit of inquiry? Which side approaches the subject encumbered with the burden of dogmatic prepossessions? Which side faces the facts?

Is it possible that people who dislike the supernatural actually cannot see evidence for it when it is there? That, at least, seems to be the only explanation of a statement like the statement attributed to Matthew Arnold: “The worst of miracles is that they don’t happen.” But they do. Search heaven and earth if you will for natural explanations of the fact; but don’t sit still in your armchair and deny the fact; if you do that, you are a case for the alienist. The attitude of these people towards miracle is like the farmer who was taken to the Zoo and said, when they showed him the giraffe, “There’s no such animal.” Equally dogmatic, equally unreasoning, is the bigotry of the man who tells you that miracles do not happen, without having once in his life taken the trouble to find out whether they happen or not.

We still measure electricity by volts and amps; Volta was a Catholic layman, and Ampere a priest. Mendel, the pioneer of all the study of heredity, was a monk. Pasteur was a fervent Catholic in life and in death. With such children as these we Catholics share our nursery and our fairy-stories.

“MIRACLES” OUTSIDE THE CHURCH

LET us imagine ourselves, for a moment, privileged to witness the greatest of Our Lord’s temptations, when the Devil took Him up to the temple roof.

What a spectacle the streets of Jerusalem present, as they are watched from that pinnacle of the temple-watched, alternately, by the leer of Satanic malice, and by the indulgent regard of all-embracing Love! Men swarming everywhere, buying and selling, haggling, gesticulating, begging, praying, cursing-what a panorama! And these pitiful creatures we are watching, dwarfed like ants by the perspective, are God’s chosen people, singled out from among all the nations of the earth. These are the men who have been found worthy to receive the Divine Oracles, to see the Son of God Himself walking in their streets. The Holy City-I think this is the only occasion on which Jerusalem is so called in the New Testament. The Holy City, and these are its holy inhabitants! And then the temptation comes. Can nothing be done to awaken those souls, so bent on worldly aims, to eternal issues? Can nothing turn those earth-bound eyes heavenwards, startle and dazzle those dull hearts into faith? You could do it surely, You, the Son of God, strong in the power of that forty days” fast which lies behind You; You in Whom the spirit has already triumphed over the body! Suppose You were to take one step forward, a single step would do it, and let Yourself fall? There would be a startled cry from beneath, hands would point, and eyes would look heavenwards. And then-a miracle! Of course there would be a miracle; You are the Son of God: would He allow His own Son to be dashed to pieces by a fall? Those crowds would then recognize You for what You are, a Messenger from heaven. Try it, why not? Can it be that You doubt God’s Providence? That You imagine He could fail You?

Don’t misunderstand Our Lord’s answer. “Thou shalt not tempt the Lord thy God”-that does not mean “Thou, Satan, shalt not tempt Me, Jesus, thy God.” It means “I, Jesus of Nazareth, must not tempt, must not make trial of, the Lord My God.” Tempting Providence, that is what the text forbids; thrusting yourself into a position of danger and then defying Providence to neglect you, demanding, and depending upon, a miracle. This challenge, which here comes to Our Lord from the Prince of Evil himself, came to Him later from His human enemies, when they tempted Him, demanding of Him a sign from heaven. They wanted Him, as Satan wanted Him, to do miracles to order. They offered Him the grudging tribute of their belief on condition that He should show them a portent; He refused. Once again, when He was led away from Pilate to Herod in the hour of His Passion, He could have saved Himself if He would have gratified Herod’s curiosity by performing a miracle; once more He refused. Incarnate God will show His power where He wills and as He wills, not to meet our incredulous challenge, not in answer to our want of faith.

What Our Lord did, He did for our instruction. And you will find a mirror of His instruction in the Catholic attitude about miracle. The Catholic Church believes in miracle, hopes for miracle, encourages her children to pray, if they will, for miracle. But you must not, she says, demand miracle. You must not tempt God, try to force His hand, throw yourself into danger and challenge Him, for His own honor, to effect a miraculous rescue; you must not attempt to originate miracle by your own efforts, especially by any means which savor of magical process. If you do that, at best you will make yourself ridiculous; at the worst, you will put yourself at the disposal of powers that are diabolic, not divine.

And today, that attitude is one for which the Church is criticized. It is a commonplace that the Catholic Church, because she is defending the truth, is constantly having to meet attack from a fresh quarter; her critics, that is to say, are for ever altering their ground. At the Reformation, we Catholics were blamed for attaching too much importance to the action of human free will, for not attaching enough importance to divine grace. Today, the whole ground of conflict has shifted; we have to defend grace as against free-will. At the Reformation, we were accused of neglecting the Bible; today, we are reviled for our slavish belief in it. Last century, we were accused of trusting our reason too little; nowadays we are accused of trusting our reason too much. And it is the same in this matter of miracle. Till lately, we had our ecclesiastical miracles criticized on the ground that miracles never happen. Today, we are having them criticized on the ground that miracles are happening all the time! We, to whom superstition was once imputed, must now defend ourselves against antagonists who take photographs of fairies, and reproduce the voices of the dead on a gramophone record. Is there no pleasing this perpetual insanity of the human mind?

How confidently men assumed, a hundred years ago, that there could be no possible reaction of spirit upon matter! If you came to them with the story that a Saint had been lifted up in the air while in an ecstasy, they would say, “Nonsense, the thing’s impossible! The law of gravitation must assert itself. Either there was trickery at work, or your witnesses must have been incompetent witnesses who were the victims of an ocular illusion.” Today, if you tell the same story, you will be met with a quite different answer: “Oh, that? Yes, just levitation, of course; a quite recognized phenomenon when the subject is in a state of trance. You will find several cases on record if you consult the Psychical Research Society and so on. And, not content with capping our own stories of miracle, these Spiritualists and Christian Scientists are very angry with us for not being impressed by theirs. How inconsistent of you (says the Spiritualist) to discredit all our stories of dead men holding communication with the living, when your own Saints have so oftenappeared in visions! How little you know your own Bible (says the Christian Scientist); don’t you realize how absolute a faith in prayer Our Lord demands? Whatsoever thing you shall ask in prayer, it shall be done unto you-don’t you see that it is only your lack of faith, your persistent reliance upon human treatment and material medicines, that prevents you from triumphing over disease as we have? All at once we find ourselves in the wrong camp; we, it seems, are the skeptics this time. Now, the Catholic does not quarrel with these apparently miraculous manifestations outside the Church simply on the ground that they do take place outside the Church. I don’t think it is possible to say, off-hand, that a miracle, a real genuine miracle, could not happen among Protestants. We hold, of course, that a genuine miracle could not happen in circumstances which would lead men to suppose that the Protestants were right and the Church was wrong; God cannot but uphold the veracity of His own revelation. But I do not know why a Protestant who is in good faith should not receive a miraculous gift of health even without going to Lourdes. I do not even feel certain that a miracle might not be done to attest the message of some Salvation Army missionary in China, while he was preaching all the faith he knew to men who had no chance of hearing about the faith from Catholic teachers. No, our quarrel both with the Christian Scientists and with the Spiritualists is something different; and it explains not merely why we do not approve of them but why we do not try to imitate them.

We do not approve of them, we do not try to imitate them, because we believe that they are engaged in tempting God. It is one thing to pray for health, even when the doctors have assured you that a restoration of health is impossible. Catholics do that, and believe that such prayers are often wonderfully answered, though whether the answer is strictly miraculous or no they will not pronounce with certainty. It is one thing to trust in Providence, when your duty carries you into danger; to visit the sick, for example, when there is danger of fatal infection. Catholic priests and nuns do that, and Providence is not slow to reward their courage. But it is another thing to deny, defiantly, the whole existence of disease and of pain, to despise all natural remedies and natural precautions. That is what the Christian Scientists invite us to do, at least where they are convinced, at least where they are consistent. For us, to refuse to summon the doctor when a child is dying at death’s door is murder, nothing else. You are tempting God by your neglect; and if your neglect seems to be rewarded, it can be no divine miracle which rewards you.

The Spiritualists, too, are tempting God, though after a somewhat different f ashion. Man’s will is given him by Divine Providence to be the arbiter of his being; in his waking hours, his will must be awake always, he has no right to deaden its action with heavy drinking or with needless taking of drugs. Now, it is one thing to fix this will so firmly upon God that the worshipper seems to pass out of himself altogether, and the body is bereft of its senses, and the mind is open to supernatural revelations; that the Catholic Saints have done. It is quite another thing to abandon your will deliberately to the disposal of some occult powers, you know not what; to leave the fortress of your soul deprived of its captain, and so throw open the gates of it to influences which may, for all you know, be diabolical. Long before Spiritualism was ever thought of, the Church met and settled that difficulty when the Quietists were condemned in the seventeenth century. The Saint in his ecstasy and the medium in his trance may, to all outside observation, look exactly alike; the trance may, for all I know, produce all the strange phenomena of the ecstasy. But they are not the same thing; there is between them the greatest difference in the world, a difference of motive. The mystic abandons his will to God. The medium abandons his will without reservation, and in so abandoning it, he tempts God.

Both the Christian Scientist and the Spiritualist lay claim to what, from the point of view of physical science, seem miracles, just as we do; but there is this difference-they expect Almighty God to do miracles to order. They are presuming upon His Grace. And so, because Our Lord refused to cast Himself down from the pinnacle when the devil told Him that Providence would surely save Him from harm; because Our Lord refused to give a sign to the men of His generation precisely when they demanded a sign; because Our Lord would work no miracle precisely when Herod challenged Him to do a miracle, we believe that these modern miracles of Spiritualism and Christian Science are not done in the grace of Christ. And for that reason, we are bound to say that they are not, strictly speaking, miracles at all. It seems likely enough that, quite apart from that exceptional divine action which we call miracle, nature has mysterious possibilities which Science cannot explain, and probably will never be able to explain. Whether merely human agencies can develop these possibilities at will, or whether it is some diabolic agency that calls them into play, we do not know, and we do not pretend to know. But we do know that we are forbidden to tempt God, and that where God is tempted in the hope of producing a miracle, it is not His power that is set at work, or His voice that makes reply.

Wordsworth , in describing for us the character of the Happy Warrior, tells us that he

“does not stoop, nor lie in wait

For wealth, or honors, or for worldly state;

Whom they must follow, on whose head must fall

Like showers of manna, if they come at all.”

And if a hero is one whom worldly honors must pursue, because he will never lie in wait for them or make any effort to come by them, shall not we say the same of the Saint, and of those heavenly honors with which God sees fit to attest his sanctity? The saints have worked miracles, but they have worked them unreflectively, you might almost say unwillingly. When St. Philip Neri found that it was impossible for him to say Mass without being caught up into an ecstasy which lasted two or three hours, his first care was to arrange that he should always say Mass in a private chapel, with nobody presentexcept one server; there should be no crowd of sightseers coming to watch Father Philip’s Mass. Can you imagine that a modern medium, if he found that he involuntarily went into a trance every day, would observe the same reticence? No, these modern devotees exploit miracle, fix their ambition on miracle; and their results? Let them be what they will, they are not miracles. God does not dispense with the use of secondary causes in order to shed lustre upon such careers as these. It is not that He could not, but that He would not; that is where our credulity sticks. God grants supernatural favors in His own way, not in ours; they are not to be achieved by so many foot-pounds of prayer; they are not to be secured by creating special conditions under which the phenomena can be regularly produced. They are His surprise presents for His children, and His children know how to take them.

But now, what of our own miracles? We have to admit that phenomena which somewhat resemble the phenomena of sanctity can be produced today by men who are not Saints; are produced, therefore, by means which do not altogether transcend the powers of nature, although the secret of them is, and perhaps always will be, undiscoverable. In that case, how can we be sure that our ecclesiastical miracles, or even the miracles recorded in the Gospels, were not similarly produced by occult natural powers? It will not be long, I think, before the Spiritualists re-write in their own jargon the story of Jesus of Nazareth. What answer do we make to such a suggestion as that?

We answer that the charge has already been made, and has already been exploded. It was made in Our Lord’s own lifetime. “He casteth out devils through Beelzebub, the prince of the devils.” Our Lord Himself exposed the folly of that suggestion; if it was by Satanic power that He worked, how was it that His power was always used to defeat Satan? The Christian religion has met with magic, in the days of the Apostles and since the days of the Apostles; always it has fought magic and triumphed over it. It has scorned the use of magical appliances; it has refused to put its trust in occult formulas and the apparatus of the curious arts. Where supernatural occurrences have marked its progress, they have come unsolicited, unpremeditated, unlaboriously. If by fifty years” practice you should learn to walk on the sea, you will not have matched the miracle by which St. Peter walked on the sea, in a moment, without preparation, at a word. Whatever miracles you produce, they will be unlike the Christian miracles. They will be unlike the Christian miracles because you have produced them.

Nihil Obstat:

ARTHUR J. SCANLAN, S.T.D., Censor Librorum.

Imprimatur:

@ PATRICK CARDINAL HAYES,

Archbishop of New York.

New York, August 8, 1928.

********

Miracles

THEIR POSSIBILITY

BY REV. RAYMOND O’DONOHOE, O. P.

The question of miracles looms large in the history of re1igious controversy. It is an old question, but ever new. For centuries it has divided the thinking world; it has forced Catholic and Protestant into bitter and prolonged strife, and it has ranged all the forces of unbelief in unyielding antagonism to the Christian Faith.

The lay mind may not understand why this dispute about miracles should be so bitter and protracted; yet the disputants-the attackers and the defenders of miracles-consider the question of tremendous moment, and worthy of their keenest consideration and enthusiasm.

The question of miracles is, indeed, of most vital importance. It is the aim of this treatise to stress that importance, and to outline what every intelligent Catholic should know .about this fundamental problem.

WITHOUT MIRACLES NO CHRISTIANITY

Christianity is, undeniably, a religion of miracles. To profess oneself a Christian and at the same time to deny the existence of miracles is a contradiction in terms; since fundamental dogmas of the Christian Faith, such as the Virgin Birth and Resurrection of Our Saviour, are obviously miracles. In the past those fundamental dogmas of Christianity were not frequently called in question; heretics were content to attack other Christian dogmas; but today it is precisely the foundations of the Faith that are threatened, and in its foundations the .whole fabric of Christianity. Today the battle for the Faith is waged not against the heretic but against the infidel. Heretics themselves are slowly realising that, at the present day, only two armies can take the field in this momentous struggle-the Catholic and the infidel. Such is the outcome of centuries of controversy; such the logical consequences of religious events of the past four centuries.

PROTESTANTISM AND MIRACLES

That the Protestant theory of Private Judgment led to Free-thought in matters of Faith is historically certain. Free-thought is the upshot of Protestantism. Did history leave any doubt about the matter, contemporary Protestantism, with its free-thinking bishops, deans and theologians, would dissipate it. Hence, today we find only two consistent and vital schools of religious thought, the Catholic and the Rationalist. But what now engages our attention is the narrower question of miracles; and in this question, as in every fundamental question of religion, we discover that there are only two logical attitudes, that of the Catholic and that of the Rationalist. Those who have studied the history of Christianity, especially the hostile historians Gibbon and Lecky, find in the decline of belief in the miraculous the explanation of the decline of belief in dogmatic Christianity The first Protestants denied that miracles took place in the Catholic Church; they rejected all ecclesiastical miracles as Romish lies and imposture. Naturally, the Protestant could not admit that God’s miraculous approval rested on the Catholic Church which for him had ceased to be Christ’s Church; miracles, argued the Protestant, ceased in the Church when the Church fell away from Christ’s teaching in the fourth or fifth century. Protestants admitted that miracles took place in the early Church, but denied that they took place in the Church when it became the Popish Church. Their difficulty was to determine when and why miracles ceased in the Christian Church. Evidence in favour of miracles was as strong and unassailable in the tenth or fifteenth century as it was in the first or third century. Why then admit the earlier and deny the later miracles? Only bias could explain the Protestant attitude. Thinking Protestants soon discovered the weakness of their position and that discovery undermined the authority of the Fathers of the Church, which they had so revered. The miracles of the early Church, recorded by the Fathers, suffered the same fate at the hands of the Protestants as did ecclesiastical miracles; both classes were relegated to the realm of myth or imposture. Protestants, as Christians, held to be authentic only one class of miracles, those worked by our Divine Saviour. UNBELIEF CHALLENGES PROTESTANTISM

But why draw the distinction between the miracles of Christ and those of the Christian Church? That is the question proposed by the later offspring of Protestantism, by the Freethinker and by the Liberal and Modernist Protestant. Why not reduce all miracles to the same category? If the miracles recorded by Augustine and the Bollandists are fictions or, at best, exaggerations, why should not the miracles of Christ be fictions or exaggerations? From an historical point of view the evidence for Christ’s miracles is no stronger than the evidence for patristic or ecclesiastical miracles. Why then discriminate? It is futile to appeal to infallible inspiration as a guarantee of the truth of Christ’s miracles; since the theory of biblical inspiration is an exploded and obsolete superstition. That theory was based on belief in the miraculous; would you now base your belief in the miraculous on the theory of inspiration? Such is the actual challenge of unbelief to Protestantism.

MODERN UNBELIEF AND MIRACLES

By this logical evolution of opinions the Freethinker and the Modernist arrive at their theory of miracles in general. Miracles do not occur, nor did they ever occur. What are regarded as miracles admit of a natural explanation, or, if they cannot be explained naturally, they did not occur as they are reported to have occurred. Jesus Christ did not work miracles in the Christian sense of the word. If we accept the Gospel history in its broad outlines, we may admit that Jesus Christ did some very wonderful things, but His works were by no means miraculous. Jesus was, undoubtedly, a singular personage-a super-man if you will,-but to claim for Him divinity on the strength of His miracles is inadmissible. Miracles and dogmas alike are relics of the dark ages of superstition.

From even this brief review of the miracle controversy it can be seen how closely interwoven with the Christian Faith is the problem of miracles. The Catholic solution of the problem is proposed in the following pages.

WHAT IS A MIRACLE?

Before we consider the various problems connected with miracles we must first determine clearly what we mean by miracle. This absolutely essential preliminary is almost invariably overlooked by our opponents who have the vaguest possible concept of the thing they combat, and attribute to Catholics the most bizarre notions of the miraculous. Unfortunately, there are also Christians who attempt to defend miracles against the attacks of unbelief, without having first stated clearly what they mean by miracle.

The English word “miracle” is derived from the Latin “miraculum” which meant originally a wonder or an extraordinary happening. We still use the word miracle in this loose sense when we call Michaelangelo’s Moses a “miracle” of art, or when we say that a person escaped death in an accident by a “miracle.” In Christian Theology, however, the word “miracle” has assumed a very definite and technical meaning; it signifies an extraordinary occurrence attributable only to God. We shall now explain this traditional concept of miracle, taking as our guide the official theologian of the Church, the great St. Thomas Aquinas.

St. Thomas defines a miracle as an effect beyond the power of nature produced by God in an unusual way. This definition calls for explanation, if we are to have an accurate idea of what is meant by a miracle.

FIRST MARK OF A MIRACLE

First, a miracle is beyond the power of any creature to produce; it exceeds not merely the power of a particular created agent, but the combined power of all creatures, of creation as a whole. No created force, no combination of created forces, can produce a miracle. There are phenomena, such as telepathy, levitation and suggestion-cure; which certainly exceed the physical powers of nature, but can be explained as the effects of a mysterious psychic force within man. Such phenomena, however strange and unfathomed, are not miracles, because they do not demand the intervention of God for their production. A miracle, then, is an effect which God alone can produce.

GOD’S INSTRUMENTS IN WORKING MIRACLES

If God alone can work miracles, why do Catholics, say that their saints worked miracles, that diseases have been miraculously cured by saints’ relics and by the waters at Lourdes? In making such statements no Catholic implies that the saints or their relics work miracles of themselves, or by virtue of any inherent power within them, but solely by virtue of a supernatural power communicated to them by God. Surely, God can use a creature as the instrument of His Omnipotence to produce an effect which the creature of itself could not produce. An artist paints a Masterpiece by means of his brushes and colours, but of themselves those instruments of his art could not produce a single line. In a similar, though utterly transcendent way, God uses the Sacraments and His ministers to produce grace in men’s souls. Likewise He can use instruments, human and inanimate, to produce a miraculous effect, which is something infinitely inferior to grace. But God, and only He, is the principal author of grace and miracles.

SECOND ESSENTIAL MARK OF A MIRACLE

To have God for its author is not the characteristic mark of a miracle. If it were, we should have to class as miracles all supernatural effects as well as those works in nature which belong exclusively to God. Only God can create a human soul, and give to that soul the supernatural life of grace; only He can sustain the frail existence of created things, and set in motion the creatures He has made. Yet, none of these works of God are miracles because they lack the essential trait of a miracle which is to be “extraordinary.” A miracle is extraordinary in this sense, that it is a work outside God’s ordinary providence. God in His ordinary Providence produces effects according to definite fixed laws; a miracle transcends those laws, and in that sense is extraordinary or unusual. Let us illustrate our meaning by examining various classes of miracles.

VARIOUS KINDS OF MIRACLES

God in His ordinary Providence produces effects by means of created causes to which He gives the power to act. Thus, a wound is healed by the vital processes of a living organism, and the cure is governed by the fixed law of physiology. In a miraculous cure God dispenses with the natural process, and produces, instantaneously, an effect which nature could bring about only by slow and patient labour. Ordinarily, God allows nature to take its course, but for his own good reasons He sometimes intervenes, and effects a cure in a way beyond the powers of nature. Such miraculous works, which transcend the powers of nature only in the way they are performed and not in themselves, are regarded as the lowest class of miracles. The instantaneous cure of tedious, though curable, maladies, the instantaneous multiplication of substances, the instantaneous change of one substance into another are miracles of this order.

A higher class of miracle is the supernatural cure of an incurable disease or the raising of the dead to life. Usually God allows the laws of disease and death to run their course, but at times His omnipotence intervenes, and restores to health men striken with an incurable disease, and gives back the dead to life. Miracles of this class exceed the powers of nature not merely in the way they are accomplished but in themselves; for nature cannot cure an incurable disease, or restore the dead.

Besides the positive miracles just enumerated there are others which are negative. These consist in the divine prevention of an effect which in normal circumstances would necessarily follow. Fire, for instance, by the laws of nature, consumes a combustible body within its reach; but fire, like every created agent, depends for its activity on God’s impelling force; fire could not burn unless God enabled it to do so. Ordinarily, God gives to creatures the power by which they act, but He does so without obligation or compulsion; He can, if He so pleases, withhold that power from His creatures, as He did when the fire did not consume the Hebrew youths who were cast into a furnace by the Chaldeans (Daniel, chap. 3). That was a negative miracle; and there are many other miracles related in Holy Scripture and history which may likewise be explained as divine preventions, due to the withdrawal of that power which God normally communicates to creatures to enable them to act.

We see, then, from the examination of various classes of miracles, the meaning and justification of St. Thomas’ definitions: A miracle is an effect which only God can produce; and its essential mark is, that it is produced by Him, not according to the ordinary laws of His Providence, which we usually call the laws of nature, but according to a higher law-the Supreme Law of His Wisdom and Omnipotence.

MIRACLES OF FAITH

An enumeration of the various classes of miracles would be incomplete without mention of some other divisions of miracles besides the general divisions we have just considered. There are miracles of Faith which we believe but cannot see or understand. The Holy Eucharist is a perpetual miracle; for, in that Sacrament the accidents of bread are sustained in a miraculous way by the omnipotence of God. Colour, taste and shape, which are accidents of bread, normally require the substance of bread to support them, but in the Eucharist the substance of bread has been changed into Jesus Christ, and those accidents, not having their natural substance to support them, require to be supported by God’s Omnipotence. Like-wise, the Sacred Humanity of Christ is maintained miraculously without the aid of human personality by the substitution of a Divine Person for the human. Those miracles, which are also mysteries of Faith, are beyond the range of our experience and vision: we believe them; we do not see them; they do not prove the reasonableness of our Faith, but demand other miracles to prove their reasonableness. Those miracles of Faith are not the subject of our present study; they belong not to the defence of Faith but to Faith itself; they are theological mysteries not apologetic miracles.

APOLOGETIC MIRACLES

It is with apologetic miracles we are concerned, with those miracles which fall ‘Within the range of human-experience, whose existence can be established by rational enquiry, and whose purpose is to prove the reasonableness of our Faith. It is from their purpose that those miracles derive their name “apologetic,” which means defensive. Those miracles constitute a rational defence of our Faith.

Apologetic miracles are of three kinds: intellectual, moral and physical. Prophecy and infused knowledge are intellectual miracles; both are beyond the powers and laws of created intellect. Prophecy is the foretelling of future events which depend on divine or human liberty. Only God can with certainty foresee such events, and, consequently, He alone can impart a knowledge of them. Likewise, only God can in an instant endow the human mind with a knowledge of any art or science. God has at times bestowed this infused knowledge on His saints to enable them to speak languages they had never learned, or to discourse profoundly on theology which they had, never studied.

Moral miracles are effects which transcend the ordinary laws that govern human life and human activity. The supernatural propagation of Christianity and the marks or notes of the Catholic Church are miracles of this order.

Thereremain physical miracles to which the name “miracle” is principally, and sometimes exclusively, applied. Those Miracles are physical effects, which surpass the powers and laws of nature, produced by God for a special purpose. Most miracles we read of in the Gospels are of this kind: the raising of the dead, extraordinary cures, multiplication of substance, etc:

Physical miracles occupy most of our attention in the following pages; nevertheless, the principles laid down and the conclusions established can be applied with equal success to all classes of miracles, physical, intellectual and moral.

ARE MIRACLES POSSIBLE?

To the Catholic that question must seem little short of blasphemy. To deny the possibility of miracles outright is sheer blasphemy-however unintentional the blasphemy may be-for to do so involves the denial of God’s existence, or the denial of one of those essential attributes by virtue of which God is God. How comes it, then, that the denial of this possibility of miracles, either expressed or implied, is so frequent outside the Catholic Church? ‘The reason is that outside the Church the most erroneous notions prevail’ about God and His divine nature and this is due to the fact that outside the Church the sound philosophy of common sense has little vogue.*

*By “Common Sense” we mean the native, instinctive power of the human mind to reach true conclusions from first, self-evident principles. The conclusions thus reached by the spontaneous action of the mind are also called “Common Sense.”

Since her foundation the Church has had to safeguard and defend not only the supernatural truth committed to her care but also the natural truths of human reason; and probably never before in her long history has the Church’s defence of natural truth been so necessary as it is today. That miracles are possible is not merely a truth of the Catholic and Christian Faith but of natural reason as well. To admit that truth one need not be a Catholic or even a Christian; he need only be a man, a creature of reason and common sense. It is surprising, then, that antagonism to miracles should be so prevalent in the world today, and more surprising still that Christian theologians should be so diffident in face of the prevailing prejudice. The miracle question is the bug-bear of the non-Catholic theologian; he may not deny that miracles are possible, but he is persuaded that miracles are no longer the bulwark of Christianity but an obstacle to its success.

MODERN PREJUDICE AGAINST MIRACLES

That not all those who reject miracles expressly deny their possibility must not blind us to the fact that the modern prejudice against miracles-a prejudice that defines a miracle as that which does not happen-is rooted in the persuasion that miracles cannot happen. The possibility of miracles is not discussed today as it was a life-time ago, but this does not indicate that the moderns take the possibility for granted-rather the contrary. Besides, not many today so get to the bottom of things as to discuss their possibility or impossibility.

Higher Criticism bears ample testimony that the modern prejudice against miracles is really based on the denial of their possibility. If a document contains miracle narrative it is without more ado classed as legend, and its author, whatever be his credentials, is ruled out of court as an unreliable witness to the truth. Our higher critics re-echo Renan’s words in his infamous Life of Jesus, “ I do not reject the gospel miracles because it has been shown that the evangelists are unworthy witnesses; but on the contrary I say the gospels are legends because they record miracles . . . It is a principle of criticism that a miracle can have no place is the scheme of human affairs.”

To discover the cause of the widespread antagonism to miracles we should distinguish between the unreasoning denial of miracles and the reasoned denial of a false philosophy. Many deny miracles because they do not think, others because their thought is warped by bad philosophy.

“MODERN MIND” AND MIRACLES

Formally it was the philosopher’s privilege to deny miracles, but the philosopher considered himself obliged to give reasons for his denial; today there are many persons who claim the philosopher’s privilege without fulfilling the philosopher’s obligations. This growing class of “enlightened” laymen rejects miracles without giving us the reason why. Of course, they tell us that miracles are discredited by, science, that miracles are opposed to science, that no educated man today admits miracles and so on, but these assertions are not reasons, they are tags culled from the “stunt” articles of some enterprising newspaper or from the pages of a pseudo-scientific novelist. Here we have the tragedy of “Modern Thought”: its victims will not think for themselves, indeed, they seem incapable of doing so; and lacking ideas of their own they borrow from the shallow sources in which the modern world abounds. The “intellectual” novelist with his smattering of a few contradictory philosophies will supply the latest philosophy of life; the pseudo scientist will explain the origin of all things, including himself, in a few pages of unproved, unprovable, and often disproved theories; and .some encyclopaedic journalist will solve the problems that have puzzled the greatest minds of our race in a smart “Outline of History,” against whom there is no appeal, and who are believed by their victims with a simplicity that would be amusing were it not tragic. Little wonder, then, that minds so tutored and enlightened should be convinced that no educated person can believe in miracles, that science is opposed to miracles and has explained them away. Those and similar tags form the convictions of shallow minds that are profoundly ignorant of what is education, of what is science and, above all, what is a miracle.

The genuine scientist will dissociate himself from the class of persons just described. He may not be a believer; he may not even have a definite philosophy, but he knows that as a scientist he may not ventilate his views on the possibility or impossibility of miracles. Accustomed as he is to the regularity of nature and to a mathematical outlook he may be naturally prejudiced against miracles, his mind, like Darwin’s, may be incapable of seeing beyond visible cause and effect; he ceases to speak as a scientist and assumes the role of philosopher. Philosophy can then meet him on its own ground and prove to him that physical nature with its laws and measurements is not the sum total of reality, that there is a Reality which the microscope cannot reveal or the test-tube confine, a Reality beyond physical cause and effect which we name God.

THE FALSE PHILOSOPHIES AND MIRACLES from the very definition of miracle it is obvious that a philosophy which denies the existence of God cannot admit the possibility of miracles; since a miracle is the direct work of God. Hence all the atheistic and materialistic philosophies necessarily deny the possibility of miracles. Moreover, a miracle demands not only a God, but a God that is free to intervene in His creation and produce an effect in an extraordinary way. It follows that those systems of philosophy that deny God’s liberty also deny that miracles are possible. Thus Pantheism .must deny miracles, since it identifies God and the world, and teaches that the universe is merely the necessary evolution of the Deity. Lastly, in order to work a miracle

God’s providence and power must reach to the miraculous effect He produces. Deism, which had much vogue in the eighteenth century, denied that divine providence extends to particular effects. Miracles can have no place in such a system.

As philosophies those systems are dead or dying, but their dregs are being served to uncritical palates in the modern

“intellectual” novel and in the popular travesties of science!

Common sense, not to speak of rational philosophy, will not brook the denial of a First Cause, whose existence is proclaimed by the world outside, and the conscience within man. Common sense knows instinctively that to be God the

First Cause must be distinct from the universe about us, utterly transcendent and at the same time ever present in His creation, knowing all things and causing all things. Only a philosophy perverted in its principles and bewildered by its speculations could deny those essential truths about God and His divine Nature.*

THE THEORY OF DETERMINISM

The false philosophies we have named introduced a theory of nature called Determinism, which until the dawn of this century was widely popular, and which still influences minds that cling to outworn theories. Determinism regarded nature as a great machine working out results with mathematical necessity, according to inflexible laws. This theory leaves no place for miracles, since every effect is due to natural forces governed by unalterable law. Inexorable law governs all the activities of nature: fire must burn, for it is a law of nature; the dead cannot return to life for that too, is a law of nature. The sacred inviolableness of nature’s laws was the great fetish of the past century.

Determinism, like many another false theory, is the exaggeration of a truth. There is determinism in nature-a fact too obvious to deny-but not an absolute determinism, a physical, not a metaphysical or mathematical, determinism. The laws of nature produce their effects of necessity but not of absolute necessity. The laws of nature are physical laws and quite different from mathematical or metaphysical laws; the latter are of absolute necessity, the former of conditional necessity. The law that 2 plus 2 equal 4, or the law that the whole is greater than the part, is of absolute necessity; such laws require no condition for their validity, and admit of no exception. But the law that fire burns, or that a solid body falls, is not absolutely necessary, because the conditions necessary for either effect may be absent. Fire will not burn an incombustible material, asbestos, for example, and the law of gravity may be counteracted by a superior law, as when a stone is thrown into the air or when water will not fall from an inverted vessel which has been covered with a sheet of paper. The laws of nature, therefore, do not produce their effects with absolute necessity but depend upon certain conditions for their activity.

MIRACLES AND THE LAWS OF NATURE

In the case of a miracle the conditions required for the normal action of nature’s law are not fulfilled owing to the *”There is a God” by Rev. Aegedius Doolan, intervention of the supreme law of nature, the power of the Creator over His creation. Just as the superior law of atmospheric pressure counteracts the effects of the less powerful law of gravity when water does not fall from an inverted glass which has been covered with. a sheet of paper, so the supreme law of the Creator’s control of nature counteracts or modifies the effects of natural law when God performs a miracle. It is, indeed, a law of nature that fire burns, but the fire’s activity is conditioned, above all else, by the will of the Creator freely bestowing on it the force by which it burns. In a miracle, like that related in the Book of Daniel, the law that fire burns combustible bodies did not operate, because God, in that particular instance, withheld the power by which fire normally burns. It is the law of nature that the dead do not return to life, but the Lord of Life and Death may intervene and so alter the natural circumstances that in a particular instance nature’s law of death no longer dominates.

It is incorrect to say that miracles violate the laws of nature. No law states, absolutely, that a cause necessarily produces an effect, but that a particular cause under certain definite conditions produces a particular effect. When a miracle is performed the conditions required for the normal effect are so modified by divine intervention that the normal effect does not follow. The law is not violated, for the conditions under which it stated that the effect would follow are not verified. When a boy counteracts the law of gravity by throwing a stone he does not violate the law of gravity; and why should God violate that law when, by His power He enables a saint to walk upon the sea?

LAWS OF CONSERVATION AND MIRACLES

In their attacks on miracles amateur scientists frequently assert that miracles contradict the law of the Conservation of Energy and are, therefore impossible. Let us examine their objection. They say that it is a law of nature that the total sum of energy in the universe remains constant, neither increasing or decreasing. Thus stated their law of Conservation is not a law, still less is it an axiom, as some of those scientists seem to take it for granted. It is not an axiom, for the statement is not self-evident; nor is it a law, for it has not been established inductively, and obviously can never be verified. How could it be possible to determine the amount of energy in the universe at a given moment and then again at another given moment, to prove that the sum total of energy has neither increased nor decreased? Formulated in such sweeping fashion the so-called law of conservation is not a law but an approved and unprovable theory, which many great scientists regard as inapplicable to vital energy in the universe.

The true law of the Conservation of Energy is formulated thus: in a closed system energy is neither lost nor gained. That is a law proved by innumerable experiments, and equivalently stated very many centuries ago by philosophers on purely metaphysical grounds. The law merely states that the total amount of energy in a material system cannot vary, provided the system neither parts with energy to other bodies nor receives energy from them. Needless to say the energy of which physical science speaks is material energy; it is outside the province of physical science to discuss the spiritual energy of man’s intellect and will or the transcendent energy of God; such “energy” lies beyond measurements and calculation.

Our teaching on miracles is in no way opposed to the law to Conservation properly formulated; nor does it necessitate the rejection of the theory that the amount of energy in the universe is constant, but it does oppose the application of that theory to the universe as a closed system. The universe is not a closed system, self-sustained and uninfluenced by any outside agent. Philosophy proves that outside our universe there is a Power that brought the universe into being, that sustains and actuates it. That power, which is God, has produced all things with their energies from nothing; and God can, if He so wills, create a new energy or so modify energy as to produce an effect beyond the power of natural forces.

It does not seem necessary to the working of a miracle that God should create new energy in the world; He can produce a miraculous effect by exploiting existing energy in a way beyond the powers of nature: The same principle may be applied to the theory of the Conservation of Matter in the universe. A miracle does not demand the creation of new matter; existing energy and matter may be utilised. This we affirm not because God cannot create matter or energy, if He so pleases, but because it seems unnecessary to postulate creation in the working of miracles.

The denial of the possibility of miracles on the score that they are opposed to the laws of Conservation is meaningless unless God’s existence be also denied; and the scientist who denies God’s existence does violence to common sense and abandons science for false philosophy.

MIRACLES NO DANGER. TO SCIENCE

Science, therefore, has nothing to fear from miracles, for they in no way effect the established laws of science. In his investigations the scientist takes no account of miracles. It is puerile to declare, as Huxley did, that the possibility of miracles would render scientific experiment useless, since a miracle might happen at any moment and upset all our calculations. This is to misunderstand completely the nature of a miracle. A miracle is the work of an all-wise and provident God, and shall we imagine that such a God will capriciously frustrate scientific investigation! Such a concept of God is surely absurd. God works miracles but seldom and for the weightiest motives; and when He deigns to do so His wonderful handiwork will be sufficiently obvious, as we shall prove later on.

Scientists of the old materialist school, who regarded theology as the great enemy of science, would be very surprised indeed to find in the defenders’ of miracles champions of the fundamental principles of physical science. Yet, that is what is actually happening today. The latest attack on miracles is not against miracles alone but against the very foundations of physical science; and in defending miracles the theologian and Christian philosopher find it necessary to insist on the basic truth of science, if they are to safeguard Christian miracles. The old attack on miracles was made in the honoured name of Science: the new attack strikes at miracles by undermining the foundations of science. Here we have an illustration of the principle that truth is one and unchangeable, error manifold and contradictory.

CONTINGENTISM AND MIRACLES

The modern attack on miracles is found in the theory of contingence or Contingentism. Contingentism is the very antithesis of the dogmatic Determinism we have just examined, and finds much favour with the modern philosophers. The determinists held that nature and its laws produce effects with such absolute necessity that even God, if there be a God, cannot intervene to work a miracle. The contingentists, on the contrary, say that there is no such thing as law in nature, or even if there be law we cannot know that there is; nature is a chaos of exceptions and haphazard events, and the laws that seem to rule the universe are in reality the product of our own minds or imaginations.

The ancestry of this theory is not difficult to trace; it dates back to the old sceptic philosophies, but in Agnosticism, particularly in the Kantian system, we discover its true parents. Bergsonian philosophy, which has a vogue in some countries today, professes Contingentism, and many current theories of Relativity are based on it.

It is clear that there can be no place for miracles in the theory of contingence, since miracles presuppose stability, and uniformity in nature. A miracle is an effect produced by God beyond the laws of nature; if there are no laws in nature, a miracle is inconceivable; and if all nature is a chaos of exceptions, how shall we discover that peculiar exception called a miracle? Contingentism is as fatal to miracles as is Determinism.

IS THE THEORY OF CONTINGENCE TRUE?

Common sense and sane philosophy reject the agnostic principles, on which Contingentism is based, as radically false and destructive of thought; common experience stoutly proclaims that there is law and uniformity in nature; all the physical sciences bear witness to the reign of law throughout the universe. When Contingentism, or its parent philosophy, proves that our faculties are untrustworthy and the facts of experience a magnificent illusion we shall agree that there are no laws in nature. But that proof is not forthcoming; nor can we see of what value such proof could be if our minds and all our faculties are essentially deceptive. Pending the arrival of a proof which, from the nature of the case, cannot be produced, we hold with common sense that there are laws in nature, because things act in a regular and uniform way: because under given conditions fire will always burn and solid bodies will always fall. If this be illusion, then everything is illusion, and we had better follow the advice of the old sceptic, Pyrrho, and give up thinking altogether.

Though we maintain that there is a universal reign of law in nature, we do not claim to know all the laws of nature nor do we claim that our statement of those laws is perfect. Contingentism finds no support in the fact that from time to time the formulation of a law calls for adjustment, owing to further scientific discovery. That fact does not prove that there is contingence in nature, but proves our imperfect knowledge of nature’s determinism. As science progresses it reveals with ever increasing clearness the universal reign of law throughout creation.

A SUMMING-UP

To sum up the discussion on the possibility of miracles: There can be only two reasons why miracles should be impossible, either because there is no fixed course in nature outside of which an extraordinary effect can be produced, or because there is no God capable of producing that effect. Neither reason survives scrutiny by ordinary common sense, still less the criticism of that systematised common sense which is the traditional Catholic philosophy. Nature runs its fixed course ruled by definite laws; and beyond nature there is God, the first Cause of all things, infinitely transcending nature yet sustaining, moving, guiding nature in all her activities. God has not exhausted His Omnipotence in creating our universe; His power is not restricted to what His creation can accomplish. He can produce effects which baffle nature: raise the dead to life or cure a fatal disease; and He can perform, without the help of nature, a work which nature could perform in a less striking way: He can cure a grievous malady in an instant, or change water into wine. To contend that God can do no more than nature is to deny His existence. Man, himself, by the use of his intelligence can accomplish works that surpass the unaided powers of nature and fill us with admiration: he can harness nature’s forces and make them subservient to his will; man’s victory over nature is writ large across the length and breadth of modern civilisation. If man, then, is able to modify the victory over nature by directing natural forces to his own ends; if by exploiting the forces of nature he can obtain results which nature, without the help of man’s inventive mind and dominant will, could never achieve, shall not God, this all-wise and all-powerful Author of creation, be capable of modifying the course of nature and of producing effects beyond the power of any of His creatures?

Our contention seems only too obvious to the Catholic Mind, but it must be insisted on and explained because, as has been said, prejudice against miracles has its root in the irrational denial of their possibility. In determining, therefore, whether a miracle really occurred there can be no appeal to antecedent impossibility; it is all a question of evidence. The evidence in favour of miracles should be weighed critically and dispassionately, and not according to irrational prejudice.*

ARE MIRACLES PROVABLE?

We take it as proved, then, that miracles are posssible. Are they also antecedently probable ? In other words, is it not only possible that God can intervene in the ordinary scheme of things but is it to be expected that He will do so? The likelihood of God’s miraculous intervention will depend on how far miracles are in keeping with His divine attributes. on how far miracles demand a place in the scheme of divine Providence. If we found it difficult to reconcile the working of miracles with any of God’s divine attributes, with His Wisdom or Goodness for instance, we could not say that miracles were provable, though we have proved that from the point of view of God’s Omnipotence, they are possible. If miracles were merely a wanton display ‘of divine Power without meaning or purpose, and did not fill a very proper, and almost necessary place in God’s wise and beneficent Providence, we should not regard miracles as likely, however clearly their possibility has been demonstrated. The whole problem of the antecedent probability of miracles is reduced to this: can we show that God has a sufficient reason for working miracles? The stronger the reason for miracles the likelier will miracles become; if we can discover an urgent reason why miracles should happen, it is very probable that they have happened. An urgent need for miracles would not only justify God’s miraculous intervention in the world but would, as it were, provoke God’s goodness to meet that need and work miracles. In examining miracles Catholic Theology discovers that they not only fulfil a divine purpose which justifies their existence, but fulfil a purpose so effectively as to be almost indispensable.

* The nature and strength of the evidence in favour of miracles is examined as another booklet: “Do Miracles Happen.”

THIS ANTAGONISM TO MIRACLES

The unyielding antagonism of our opponents to Christian and Catholic miracles has already been emphasised: If the miracle controversy were a purely speculative one, that antagonism would be difficult to understand, for men do not commonly show great resentment and bitterness in discussing purely theoretical questions. No, it is the practical consequence of miracles that stirs our opponents to enmity and strife; for the practical consequence of miracles is tremendous, indeed overwhelming. Once prove that Christ really worked a miracle or that a miracle was performed within the Catholic Church in confirmation of Catholic doctrine, and a thousand philosophies and creeds crumble in ruins. It would follow, first of all, that all the naturalistic philosophies are false, because a miracle proves that there is a personal, supernatural God to whom all things are subject, Who exercises a supreme and, independent providence over the world. It would follow that Jesus Christ was all He claimed to be, because his words bear the seal of the all-truthful God; that Christ’s commands and moral precepts must be obeyed, because they are God’s precepts and commands. How many infidelities, how many easy philosophies of life and conduct, receive their death-blow from the simple truth that Jesus Christ worked miracles; how irksome in its consequences is that truth to the majority of men. Lastly, it would follow from the truth of Catholic miracles that the Catholic Church is all she claims to be: God’s divine mouthpiece, the infallible interpreter of Christ’s message to men, the supreme arbiter upon earth of Christian faith and Christian morals. Then might seven hundred jarring sects cease their wrangling, and pride themselves no more on their sole common cause of undying antagonism to Rome-for she is the haven of Salvation and their Mother

Little wonder, then, that the miracle controversy raises such a storm of protest and indignation. Men do not placidly forego their cherished prejudices or renounce lightly their life-long persuasions. Yet, it is one of the purposes of miracles to rid us of our false prejudices and to dissipate those errors regarding God and the world to which the human mind is so prone.

Nihil Obstat :

RECCAREDUS FLEMING, Censor Theol. Deput.

Imprimi Potest : @ EDUARDUS, Archiep. Dublinen., Hiberniae Primas.

Dublini, die 17° Jan., anno 1931.

********

Missing Catholics

REV. DR. L. RUMBLE, M.S.C

INDEX

I know the thought that the title of this little book will at once bring to your mind. You will think of the broken families, murdered people, and displaced persons transported to only God knows where by ruthless tyrants in Communist-occupied countries. And there would be good grounds of your thinking in such a way. For the number of missing Catholics in that sense of the word is almost beyond human calculation.

All the same, this booklet is not concerned with the tragedy that has overtaken them. It is concerned with the Catholics who are missing in our own country. And that, too, is tragedy both for the Church and for the victims of the prevalent atmosphere-almost the epidemic-of religious indifference.

Again and again it has been noticed that, in response to a compulsory census, whether civic or military, ever so many people will put themselves down as Catholic who are missing from the statistical returns compiled: missing Catholics are missing Mass, missing their prayers, missing a host of blessings and consolation which they try to persuade themselves they don’t miss at all in this life; and they seldom advert to their danger of missing all prospects of eternal happiness in the next life.

Now if you, who happen to be reading this booklet, are one of the missing ones, it is to you that I wish particularly to speak. I want to remind you of things you have too easily forgotten; or to which, perhaps, you have never given any real thought at all. For if you are a “should-be” Catholic, there is a glorious inheritance which is rightfully yours, even though at present you do not claim it. It has obligations, of course, as well as privileges; and maybe you feel a sense of relief from the obligations in waiving your claim to the privileges. But in reality the privileges far outweigh the obligations, and you are missing far more than you realize in just letting yourself drift.

ALWAYS A CATHOLIC

That is easily said, I know. But we’ll see more about that as we go along. For the moment, let us begin where everything began for you in this particular matter. If you describe yourself as a Catholic, it is because you were at least baptized or christened a Catholic. That means that you can never really cease to be a Catholic. For baptism is an indelible and irrevocable action which cannot be undone. It literally marks one off, sets one aside, branding the very soul as the property of Jesus Christ and a member of the Catholic Church.

At one time firms used to paste labels on the bottles in which they marketed their products. But labels are easily removed. For greater protection, therefore, enterprising firms got the bottle manufacturers to mould their name into the very glass, making it part of the bottle. Then it could never be removed so long as the vessel itself continued to exist.

It’s rather like that with baptism. Once a Catholic, always a Catholic. However we may forget, however far we wander, we are still Catholics. Were a Catholic to die and be brought back to life again, he could not be re-baptized. He is still what he always was-a Catholic. Even the taunt, uttered in bitter hatred and anger-I have heard it- “You’re a Catholic and you’ll never be anything else,” is but expressing the literal truth.

Of course there is a difference between “being” a Catholic and “living” as a Catholic. By our baptism we become simply Catholics; not good ones; not bad ones. Once baptized we are all equally Catholics. But the kind of Catholic each one is, good, bad, or indifferent, will be determined by the way in which each one lives. That’s why Catholics vary so greatly in quality. By physical birth we became children of our natural parents. But that did not compel us to become what our parents would have wished us to become. So by baptismal re-birth we became children of God. But that also could not compel us to become what God wanted us to become. We have free-will, that we may make of ourselves and of our baptismal inheritance what we choose. However, of that we shall see more later.

BEST OF RELIGIONS

One thing we do know. If we are Catholics, whatever we ourselves are making of our religion in practice, ours is the best of all religions on the face of the earth. “Yes. I”m a Catholic; but not much of a one, so don’t judge the Catholic religion by me!” How often that has been said!

The truth is that the Catholic religion is the most perfectly balanced and beautiful religion the world has ever seen; the religion given by God for the eternal salvation of mankind; the religion which history shows to have been the greatest of all influences for good through the twenty centuries of our civilization; the religion in which millions have found peace of soul, and which the saints of every age declare with one voice to have been the secret of the heroic lives all the world has been compelled to admire.

I”m not saying that because I happen to be a Catholic. Others who are not Catholics have paid their tributes to the beauty and power of Catholicism. Writing in the “Hibbert Journal,” of July, 1930, the Rev. Lloyd Thomas, a Pro- testant minister of Birmingham, England, said, “We can all be magnanimous enough to recognize that Rome is the steward of the moral witness of the Christian Church. The supreme attraction of Rome is to be found in its ethical rigorism. She represents the last loyalty of the human race to its own highest moral standards. She is the steel barrier of Christianity against the overwhelming invasion of the corrupting neopaganism of our times.”

I had lunch recently with a prominent Freemason, the Grand Master of his Lodge, who said to me, “I know you’re right, old chap, and I”11 probably become a Catholic some day. But not yet.” However he was not lost to all sense of justice. And at the lunch I have mentioned he told me of this incident.

“I was talking to a fellow Mason one day,” he said, “when he began to voice his objections to the Catholic Church, declaring that he could not stand her intolerance”

“I dislike the Catholic Church for the same reason as yourself,” I said to him. “Do you know why we dislike her so much?”

“Why?” he asked.

“Because,” I answered, “she tells us we mustn’t do the wrong things we want to do. Let’s get the record straight. No one ever leaves the Catholic Church in order to become better. And if a man drops his Catholic religion because it forbids his own rotten conduct it is because he himself is no good, not because there’s anything wrong with his religion. I have never known anyone to abandon the Catholic religion and be the better for doing so, whilst no one has ever sincerely become a Catholic except for higher ideals than he had before. And if we can’t bring ourselves to admit that, we can at least have the grace to be silent on the subject.”

My friend’s fellow Mason did not pursue the conversation. But it is not difficult to understand the impression nonCatholics have of the intolerance of the Catholic Church. If they haven’t the Catholic Faith, what else are they to think? Take the position.

The Catholic Church knows that she is unique, the one divinely authorized custodian of the Truth revealed by God in Jesus Christ. People are shocked by her claim to be the one true Church; but she makes that claim-she is the only one that does-and she is ready to prove it by the evidence of Sacred Scripture, of history, and of reason. Logically, she makes equally uncompromising claims upon the lives of her members. She demands that, as men went from God in the first place by disobedience, so they will retrace their steps by obedience. If religion is to get us back to God, that must be the very essence of religion. It was certainly the very essence of the life of Christ Himself whose motto had been written in advance, “Behold I come to do Thy Will, O God.”

It is this Catholic religion which has been, and is, to millions of people the light of their minds and the pledge of their salvation. For Catholic worship is all to one purpose-to make us better, to unite us to God, to console and strengthen us in the trials of life, to ensure our happiness in heaven. Its the only philosophy worth while-religion perfecting the complete human being, body and soul, mind and heart, for time and eternity.

That is the religion to which all baptized Catholics belong, the missing ones as well as those who have refused to drift.

GLORIOUS TRADITIONS

The missing ones, who have never known any other religion than that of their baptism, and who perhaps know very little beyond the fact that they ought to be Catholics, owe even that much to the heroic and unswerving fidelity of a long line of Catholics before them. For if you are one of the missing Catholics today, you are at least a descendant of those who kept the Faith in the past, often enduring incredible sufferings and privations rather than forsake it. They are the non-Catholics who are the descendants of those who abandoned their religion under the stress of persecution. That story, of course, could lead us a long way back.

The early Christians, during the first three hundred years when it was death to be a Catholic, braved all penalties and took all risks rather than desert the same Faith as that which we profess.

Nearer to hand is the Protestant Reformation period. In the face of the most violent measures of repression, confiscation of property, and threats to their lives, nations like Ireland and Poland, large sections of Germany and Holland, though only a handful, alas, in England and Scotland, remained true to their Catholic inheritance. Their fidelity to their religion did not mean less loyalty to their country, generosity and devotedness in its service, and courage in its defence. But they had a loyalty to God and to their conscience which they were determined also to maintain; and the faith of succeeding generations of Catholics was a legacy made possible by their fidelity.

I am very conscious, as a convert, when speaking to those whose forefathers remained true to the Faith that I myself am a descendant of those who deserted it. Who is the son of renegades, that he should urge the children of the martyrs to stand firm? Yet I do not often presume to do that. This particular booklet is quite exceptional. For my lifework has been almost invariably directed towards those still in the ranks of those from whom I came, the ranks of those born of non-Catholic parents and who, through no fault of their own, have neither known Catholicism nor dreamed that there they might find the Truth.

APOSTOLATE TO NON-CATHOLICS

For over a quarter of a century now my main duty has been that of replying by radio to inquiries about the Catholic religion submitted by the general public. And that, of course, ties one down to the isolated and disconnected problems each listener wants to hear discussed. However, I have also been able to undertake many missions to non-Catholics when a much more comprehensive presentation of the Catholic religion has been possible.

It is in such missions above all that one can enkindle a hunger for Catholicism in the hearts of those who have never known it, a new desire which gives them no peace until they too possess this greatest of all God’s blessings to mankind. Catholics attending such missions have benefited greatly from them. How many of them have said, “Father, I have learned more about my religion hearing it explained to others than I ever knew before!” But such missions are not primarily for them. They are for the “other sheep” whom Our Lord wills also to be brought into the one fold of the Catholic Church. And hundreds of converts have resulted from them. As one of them put it, “I went away feeling that Iwas missing ever so much by not being a Catholic!”

To instruct and receive converts into the Church is a source of perpetual edification, and often of astonishment. They come so humbly, “Father, I don’t know what I have ever done to deserve so great a grace as this,” one will say. Or again, “I don’t know how I lived all those years without being a Catholic.”

Or another, “Now I must set to work and make up for lost time. I”11 never overtake your good Catholics who have had the Faith since childhood and have been able to receive Holy Communion all their lives!”

These converts firmly believe they have discovered a joy which has been the life-long experience of the born Catholic; as it could and should be, were every Catholic to take his religion seriously. Read what some of them have had to say!

JOY OF CONVERTS

“Every hour,” wrote Frederick William Faber, “so augments inward peace that I cannot but yearn that those I love should enjoy the same privileges with myself. A new light seems to be shed on everything-a light so clear as to surprise

“From the time I became a Catholic,” Cardinal Newman wrote in his turn, “I have been in perfect peace and contentment. It was like coming into port after a rough sea.

Father Maturin said, of his own experience, “There has been an ever-deepening sense of security, with moments of intense realization of the glory and strength of the City of God, whose walls are salvation and whose gates are peace.

“The Church promises a great deal,” exclaimed Robert Hugh Benson, “but my experience is that she gives ten times more. The Catholic Church is supremely what she promises to be. She is the priceless pearl for which the greatest sacrifice is not too great.”

“The Church is fairer than we dared to dream,” declared Kegan Paul, “and my first fervour was as nothing to what I feel now. Day by day the mystery of the Altar seems greater, the unseen world nearer, God more a Father, Our Lady more tender, the great company of the Saints more friendly, my Guardian Angel closer to my side.”

IMMENSE SACRIFICES

“No sacrifice is too great,” said Benson. Thousands of converts have had that conviction. I have seen staggering sacrifices made by converts I myself have received into the Church; relatives alienated, friends lost, legacies forfeited, business prospects ruined. With St. Paul, as Monsignor Knox gives us his words, they have said, “There is nothing I do not write down as loss compared with the high privilege of knowing Christ Jesus, my Lord. For love of Him I have lost everything, treateverything else as refuse, if I may have Christ to my credit.” (Phil:, III, 8).

How many times I have said to careless Catholics, “If you had had to make anything like the sacrifices to keep your faith which so many converts have made to become a Catholic, you would not throw your religion away as though it were worthless! But you have not appreciated it, you have just taken it for granted, because you got it too easily, too cheaply.”

So often they are those who have been without it who know how to make the best use of it when they get it. But surely everyone bearing the Catholic name would agree that it shouldn’t be so, and that those who have had the Faith all their lives should be the ones who have grown into the greater appreciation of it!

HOSTILITY OF UNBELIEVERS

The enemies of the Catholic Church certainly do not take her cheaply! They are not indifferent to her, and wanting in enthusiasm in their efforts to bring about her destruction. Throughout the world atheists, secularists, and communists wage continual war against her. Communists, of course, wherever they are in power have come right out into the open.

A Catholic girl, recently escaped from Hungary, tells how she went to church one Sunday morning in her entirely Catholic village. But, with all the other Catholics arriving for Mass, she found the doors of the building closed, a Communist guard lined up to prevent the people from entering, and on the door of the church a great placard: “THIS CHURCH IS CLOSED- BECAUSE THERE IS NO GOD.”

But in our own democracies, secularists, unbelieving materialists, are no less active. In season and out of season, in books, newspapers, and from public platforms, they seek to undermine Christian principles and practices, concentrating their attention on the Catholic Church which they instinctively recognize as the last stronghold of the Christian religion in this world.

Theirs is the new paganism with which Catholics have to contend, as the early Christians had to contend with the paganism of the ancient Roman world. It is not a conflict between morality and immorality-a conflict with people accepting Christian teaching but not living up to it. It is a conflict between two different moralities, secular and Christian. The one holds that man is but an animal, with no future beyond this life, and no obligation to live as if he were not a mere animal, The other holds that man is a child of God consisting of a body and of a soul made in God’s image and likeness, a soul immortal of its very nature and destined to live on forever in a state of eternal happiness or eternal misery according to the way in which he has behaved during his time of probation on earth.

But the fight against the sheer and dreary, yet very militant irreligion of the secularists is not the only battle to be fought.

RELIGIOUS BIGOTRY

Unfortunately, sympathizing with the attack upon the Catholic Church by complete unbelievers, religious prejudice and bigotry have joined forces with them. If ever people knew not what they were doing, they are those non-Catholics who, whilst professing to be Christians, seek in every way to discredit and destroy the Catholic Church. For if she goes, their churches go also.

What can one say of them? Is their hatred of the Catholic religion so much greater than their love for Christ that they are willing to become friends with the enemies of all religion in the hope of wrecking the Catholic Church? Inevitably one thinks of Herod and Pilate, who became friends as Christ Himself went to His death!

After his conversion, G. K. Chesterton wrote a book on the things that would have made him a Catholic, if he had not already become one. Certainly the diabolical hatred of the Catholic Church, whether on the part of secularist unbelievers or of those who are the victims of unreasoning religious prejudice and blind bigotry, would have been sufficient to make me suspect the truth of the Catholic Church had I myself not been moved by other considerations to become a Catholic.

In the early Church many converts from paganism owed their conversion to the very sight of the violent and irrational hatred for the name of Christ. They were led to study His life and claims. They found that He was goodness itself, and incapable of speaking anything but the truth. Only the rebellious principle of evil which abominates God could explain the infernal hatred of which He was the object. They were shocked into taking sides. And being men of good will, on the side of decency and virtue, they felt that they had no choice but to become Christians.

The same thing is happening today. There are those who have seen that the same forces which have given rise to a hatred of Christ through all the ages are directed in a peculiar way against the Catholic Church as against no other institution in this world. This phenomenon has started them on their enquiries. And they have ended by becoming Catholics.

THE MAN WHO CAME BACK

But not only non-Catholics have reacted in such a way. Many a careless Catholic has been driven back to the fervent practice of his religion by a sudden advertence to the issues at stake.

I remember the case of one Catholic man, a railway employee, who had been transferred away from home to a country centre as a machinist, fitter in the railway depot workshop there. In his new surroundings he dropped his religion in practice, neither making himself known to the local priest, nor attending Mass. None of his fellow workers was so much as aware that he was a Catholic. No letters of mine, written to him at the request of his parents, seemed to have any effect upon him.

One day, however, during the lunch hour, the Catholic Church came up for discussion; and such a tirade of abuse against Catholics and their religion, such a stream of vile calumnies against priests and nuns, poured from the lips of one of the men, that the Catholic was shocked out of his lethargy and indifference. He told the offender what he thought of him. He told the others what lying calumnies they had just heard. He professed himself to be a Catholic-a bad one till then, but not henceforth. The next weekend saw him at confession and Mass and Holy Communion. And he has never looked back.

“In that moment,” he wrote to me, “I was made to realize that I was either a Catholic or a traitor; as much an enemy of the Church as any other-even worse. I had to take sides, and I wasn’t going to be one of that crew. So I”ve returned to the Sacraments-to stay. I”ve had my lesson.”

GREAT RESPONSIBILITY

We Catholics have a responsibility. To us has been entrusted the interests of the Kingdom of God on earth, in the face of a world hatred of us Christ predicted and in spite of the opposition of even religiously-minded people misguided enough to think they do God a service by hindering us in every possible way.

We can’t get away from that responsibility. We have been baptized as Catholics. Just as we have been born into human society and must accept our social duties, so we have been born into that great spiritual society known as the Catholic Church by a supernatural rebirth, and must accept the duties proper to that society also. We walk in two societies, the nation and the Church, with two sets of duties to be fulfilled.

It was an infidel who said, “Did I firmly believe, as millions say they do, that the knowledge and practice of re- ligion in this life influences destiny in another, religion would be to me everything. It would be my first waking thought, and my last image before sleep sank me into unconsciousness. I would strive to look upon eternity alone, and on the immortal souls around me, soon to be everlastingly miserable or everlasting happy.”

Certainly if the Catholic Church is to do her work the first thing necessary is for her own members to equip themselves and stand firm. The Church desperately needs Catholics who take their religion seriously, and who are militant in their fight against unchristian and antichristian influences, zealous in their positive efforts to observe Christian principles in their personal conduct, and to diffuse them in the home circle, in commercial, professional and national life.

“The Barque of Peter,” said an old sea-captain who happened to be an excellent Catholic, “is no tourist ship, but a freighter. She has no room for passengers; only crew. And it’s a case of all hands on deck.”

The “love of Christ urges us,” said St. Paul. By His goodness to us, He has placed us under an enormous obligation which it is for us to try to realize-and to repay.

SWIMMING UPSTREAM

No one could pretend for a moment of course, that all Catholics even attempt to fulfil their obligation. I commenced this booklet by speaking of the “missing” Catholics. They, alas, are legion. In all our big cities, and scattered up and down the country, are hosts of Catholics known to be such only by themselves-and God. They are missing from their Church, unacquainted with their priest, unrecorded in diocesan statistics.

What are the causes of this tragedy? To put the question directly to missing Catholics, why have you drifted away from the practice of your religion?

There is, I know, the paralysing influence of the secular environment in which we live. The external changes in the world are as nothing compared with the change that has come over men’s souls.

We live in a world of “shaking foundations and dissolving loyalties.” Secularism has swept through the ranks of the society in which we live and move and have our very being. National and international authorities ignore religion. Books, newspapers, films-all conspire to promote the struggle for and enjoyment of material welfare to the forgetfulness of God. The wave of popular indifference to religion creates the impression that destiny doesn’t really depend on religious considerations; that they are not essential; that one can take them or leave them as one pleases.

Well, its easier, undoubtedly, to go with the current than swim against it. But to deplore the moral and spiritual breakdown of our civilization-as so many even amongst the missing Catholics do-and also forsake the practice of one’s religion is surely no way to make things better.

It may take an effort; but the only thing to do is to turn and swim against the tide sweeping so relentlessly on towards the abyss of irreligion and despair.

KNOW YOUR RELIGION

“But I don’t know anything about my religion” has often been said by missing Catholics.

I must confess that I have never heard that plea without a good deal of sympathy for those who make it. There are thousands of people in this country whose parents had enough faith to get them baptized, but not enough faith to bother teaching them their religion. And to be sent to state schools where religion was expressly excluded from the subjects taught did not help, to say the least. So it can easily be that many a Catholic has left school and set out on life with little or no real knowledge of his religion, and still less training in its duties.

But such a boy or girl still remains a Catholic. And there is no reason why one’s lack of knowledge of religion should not be made good in later years. We try to improve our knowledge of ever so many things inadequately taught us at school. Why take it for granted that a child’s knowledge-such as it is- should be enough to see us through life where our religion is concerned?

Surely the effort to remedy ignorance of our religion would he well worth while. A Catholic boy, after many years of study to fit himself for the priesthood, leaves home and country to go to the foreign missions. There he has to set to work to learn a new and difficult language. Then, in a climate that is bad, and fever rampant, with barely the necessaries of life provided for him, certainly with no worldly advantages, he devotes all his energies to spreading a knowledge of the Catholic Faith amongst pagan tribes. If he is prepared to endure such self-sacrifice that others may obtain a knowledge of the Catholic religion, should not ill-instructed Catholics at home go to the much less trouble of securing a sound knowledge of it for themselves?

Or take another case. A young and good-hearted Protestant lad, of about eighteen years of age, met a blind Catholic man and offered to visit him occasionally in order to read to him. One day the blind man wanted a pamphlet about the Catholic religion read to him. So impressed was the Protestant good Samaritan by the contents of that one booklet, that he obtained and read for himself every Catholic booklet he could lay hands upon. He sought instruction from a priest, was received into the Church, and went on with his studies until there were few Catholic laymen who had anything like his knowledge of their religion. They envied him his knowledge, his fervour, and his enthusiasm for it. But it did not seem to enter their heads that they could become equally proficient in their religion did they take the same interest in it.

Why should not the born Catholic re-study his religion in his adult years, with the greater understanding of it which is then possible, just as every convert has had to study it? I have even heard Catholics say wistfully that converts make the best Catholics. But there is no earthly reason why that should be so; and it would not be so-if it is so- had all Catholics made the same efforts to know and understand their religion as converts in their efforts to get it.

“IF THAT”S WHAT RELIGION MEANS!”

There are, of course, many reasons given by missing Catholics for their neglect of religious duties. But we all know, even as they themselves-in their heart of hearts-know the answer to them.

For example, there are those who point to the poor lives and the bad example given by many who regularly attend church and fulfil their religious obligations of worship. And they will say. “If that’s what religion means, I don’t want it.” But they know quite well that that’s not what the Catholic religion means.

During the years before I became a Catholic I had often said that Catholics are a pretty poor lot in practice, and that the history of their Church is a quarry from which scandals can be unearthed almost at will. And I still say it, though now without losing sight of the other side of the picture.

One who knows the teaching of Christ and the proverbial weakness of human nature soon gets over the shock of disedifying lives. It was Christ Himself who said, “It must needs be that scandals will come.” But He did not forget to add, “Nevertheless, woe to that man by whom the scandal cometh.” Not, for a moment would He sanction the scandals. Nor does the Catholic Church. However gentle she may be towards sinners, she is adamant in condemning the sin. Meantime, she knows what the Catholic religion can do in the Saints. Where that religion fails to secure such results, it has been held in check by the evil propensities or the human frailties of those who have resisted its influence.

But how unfair is the attitude of those who make the faults of others an excuse for their own laxity should be evident. No man refuses to join even a political party because he happens to like or not like someone who belongs to it instead of examining the party’s programme.

Let us take the Catholic religion as it is in itself. On the twentieth anniversary of his reception into the Church, Monsignor Ronald Knox answered the question as to whether he was disappointed with the Catholic Church after having made its closer acquaintance. Andhis reply went something like this: “Am I disappointed? With myself, yes; for when I was received into the Church it seemed that there was nothing left for me now but to become a saint, and I”m far from that yet. With Catholics, yes; for they are not half as good as they ought to be with so wonderful a religion; with priests, yes; even as they are all disappointed with themselves. With the Catholic Church, no; she is the one true Church she has ever claimed to be.”

Missing Catholics ought to ask themselves, in turn, some questions. If the reality at times does not seem to correspond with the ideal, are things improved by our abandoning the Church also, and helping to make the contrast still more glaring? And whom does one hurt by the neglect of one’s own religious duties? Not those of whose conduct we complain. Their sins are not remedied by our sinning too. They are not converted by our sharing in their infidelity: The only ones we hurt are Our Lord, our own souls, and all whom our own bad example helps to lead astray. The wrong ones are being punished-and fruitlessly?

“MONEY! MONEY! MONEY!”

One excuse not uncommonly heard is: “I don’t attend church any more, be cause the priests are always asking for money.”

Well, for whom do they ask it? For themselves? Or for the poor, for our children in the schools, for foreign missions, for works of charity, for the glory of God’s House? They have to let us know what is needed, for that is their responsibility. But if we give of the possessions our life makes possible, the priest gives still more, himself, his life, renouncing an earthly career and family affections. Moreover, everyone knows that no Catholic is asked to give more than he can afford.

But if there were anything in this excuse, it would be as valid for good Catholics as for the careless ones; and the good ones have never made this charge a reason for neglecting fidelity in their religious duties to God. In a spirit of deep faith and with spontaneous generosity they have delighted in supporting their Church.

“I”ve never been the poorer for giving to God, Father,” said an old Catholic working man to me one day, “and I”ve certainly never yet heard of anyone going bankrupt through doing so.”

There is something in casting your bread upon the waters!

“I”M NO GOOD”

To the credit of most missing Catholics it must be said that they refuse to fall back on the shortcomings of others as an excuse for their own neglect. More often they will say, “What’s the use of going to church? I can’t live up to it, and I”m not going to be a hyprocrite and pretend I do.” One has at least to admire the honesty and humility of the admission that the fault lies in oneself.

But to go to Mass is not to pretend to be a saint! Nor need there be a trace of hypocrisy in such an external fulfilment of religious duties. The Pharisee may have been a hypocrite, but the publican wasn’t; though both equally went into the Temple-”the publican to pray,” as St. Augustine remarks, “the Pharisee to praise-himself!”

I know what you will say , “The publican was repentant and didn’t intend to go on with his sins; and I can’t break with mine.” Even so, you would not necessarily be a hypocrite by continuing to attend Mass. Hypocrisy depends on one’s motive. If you did go to Mass in order to pretend that you were good, you would be a hypocrite; but not if you went without any such pretence, moved only by the desire to fulfil God’s law as far as you could.

The Catholic Church has always re fused to become the Church of the “elect.” Arnold Lunn remarks somewhere that if a Methodist keeps a mistress he ceases to attend his Church; but a Catholic in a similar position would still go to Mass even though unable to approach the Sacraments. He knows that the Catholic Church is for all, sinners as well as saints.

The Catholic Church never forgets her Divine Founder’s words, “I come to call, not the just who need not repentance, but sinners.” So she bids sinners come, not because they are good, but because they should want to be good, and because she knows how to deal with their sins. If they don’t become good quickly enough, and she is reproached for the low standards of so many who frequent her services, she has her answer in the legion of saints through all the ages.

I remember an old priest going round his parish taking the census. He came to the house of a man who at first denied that he was a Catholic. But the man didn’t do it too convincingly and the priest pressed the question as to his religion.

“Well, Father,” the man said, “if you must know, I”m a Catholic- or supposed to be one. But you may as well wipe me off. I”m no good.”

The old priest’s eyes softened at once. “For that matter, I”m not much good myself,” he said, “but if we can’t do what we can’t do, that’s no reason why we shouldn’t do what we can do. I”m trying to do what I can do, and that’s why I”m looking you up. And you can at least come to Mass, even if you can’t do everything else. And you can say your prayers. You know, if you break one commandment, that’s no reason why you should break the lot. There’s no point telling God that you might as well be hanged for a sheep as for a lamb. Be as generous as you can with God, and He’ll find a way to be generous to you in the end, believe me.”

The man believed him, and went regularly to Mass after that; and the day came when he made his peace with God, returned to the Sacraments, and more than experienced the generosity of God upon which the old priest had promised him he could rely.

THE GREATEST INJUSTICE

Does the fulfilment of our religious duties matter? Of course it matters!

More than anything else. What we do about it is the most important fact in our human existence. Our religious duties are the most valuable of all, the things we do. For they alone enable us to transcend an ignoble self-love; and upon our acceptance or rejection of them our very eternity depends.

A man may sin through human frailty in other ways -a frailty for which God is prepared to make every possible allowance. But the omission of religious duties is a cold, calculating form of injustice which can make no claim to such consideration. And if, as Holy Scripture says, the very pagans were guilty because they did not worship God as they should; if the Jews were guilty- guilty to the extent of forfeiting their inheritance; how much more guilty are Catholics who today claim that inheritance as their own, yet neglect the greatest of its obligations-to render due and fitting worship to God?

1t is not that God needs our worship. But not to render that worship is the greatest possible injustice on our part; and God cannot want us to be unjust. If we pay butcher and baker and grocer for the food by which we maintain life, how much more ready we should be to make a due return to God for the life that food maintains?

Religion is the highest form of justice, inspiring us to render due acknowledgment to God. That is why, in giving us the ten commandments in the right order of importance, God Himself devoted the first three of them to our obligations towards Himself. He insists that we acknowledge Him to be the one and only True God! that we hold Him in due reverence; and that we regularly fulfil our duties of religious worship.

To have no religion, then is a very evil thing, the greatest of all dishonesties. And is it not a striking fact that even irreligious parents would not take from their own children what they expect God to take from them? What parents would permit their children to ignore them completely and treat them as if they did not so much as exist?

THE CAUSE OF CHRIST

Look again at what our religion means. After all, we are Christians. We believe that “God so loved the world as to give His only begotten Son.” “Man,” said St. Augustine, “owed God so great a debt that he could not pay; therefore God became man and as man paid man’s debt.” It meant a life of suffering, ending in His death. It seems almost incredible that any Catholic could “believe that the Eternal Son of God went to so much trouble on our behalf, yet not even go to the trouble of taking his religion seriously.

Remember who Christ is. You have but to grant a single point-that He was not the greatest liar and blasphemer who ever set foot in this world. For, if not, then He was what He claimed to be-God; and all that He declares will happen is going to happen. He will come to judge the living and the dead.

To His Church we Catholics belong. And that Church is not merely a mechanical machine of cogs running under a single central motor. She is a living organism, of which we are the living cells, every cell contributing to her health and vitality.

But there are degrees of life, spiritually as well as physically. After the last war, Europe was swarming with orphaned and vagabond children, living by scavenging. But they were only just alive, poor, thin, emaciated, undernourished, with no glow of health, no vigour of life. Spiritually, also, there are Catholics like that, with no glow of fervour, no desire of virtue, no taste for the things of God, no longing for heaven. They are spiritually ill, half-dead.

Well, God has given us the Faith; but He won’t compel us to live it. And no one else can live our lives for us. It is for each one of us to do his part. And how necessary it is that each should do so! True, the Catholic Church cannot die. Our Lord has promised that. But she can lose power as life and vitality fail in any one of us. She can be weaker when slothful and careless Catholics abound.

The cause of Christ is, then, the cause of every Catholic without exception. Every missing Catholic lets Him down and weakens the Church.

BEGIN HERE

The missing Catholic may ask, “But where shall I begin?” To that I would say, “At least begin by taking up the duty of prayer.” It may need an effort at first, because you have got out of the habit of it. But you will grow into it. We learn to pray by praying, as a child learns to walk by walking. If you have forgotten your prayers, get a prayer-book.

One thing is certain. Prayer is absolutely necessary. God has made the welfare of our soul depend upon it, even as He has made our bodily life dependent upon the air we breathe. “Alas for the man too busy to pray,” exclaimed Cardinal Manning, “for he is too busy to save his soul.”

Christ Himself both set us the example of prayer and taught us the necessity of it. Whatever else He Himself did, He prayed. “Rising early, He went to a desert place and there He prayed.” “He ascended into a mountain alone to pray. He spent “the whole night in prayer.” “Being in an agony, He prayed the longer.” And to us He says, “Watch and pray.” “Ask and you shall receive.

Secondly, if you do not already go, resume your attendance at Mass at least on Sundays and Holy Days of obligation. The fulfilment of the religious duty of assistance at the public and corporate worship of God in our churches is essential. It is by such attendance that we publicly acknowledge the duty of religion, publicly profess our belief as Catholics, make public admission of the need of God’s help. To neglect Mass is to give our vote that God shall be forgotten.

The mystery is that any Catholic can bring himself to miss Mass. We know the price our Catholic ancestors paid rather than allow themselves to be robbed of it. At the time of the Protestant Reformation in England, St. John Fisher, Bishop of Rochester, challenged Cranmer with the protest, “He who would abolish the Mass plots no less a calamity than would be the destruction of the very sun from the heavens.”

Even a nonCatholic of our own times, Augustine Birrell, wrote in the “Nineteenth Century” magazine, “Nobody nowadays, save a handful of vulgar fanatics speaks irreverently of the Mass. If indeed the Incarnation be the one divine event to which the whole creation moves, the miracle of the Altar may well seem its restful shadow cast over a dry and thirsty land for the help of man. . . . .It is the Mass that matters; it is the Mass that makes the difference.”

Thirdly, let us read all we can about our Faith, and improve our knowledge of it. And let us do our best to live up to its ideals in our personal daily lives. In that, of course, we shall be only more or less successful. We are not saints. We have our human frailties. But we must try. As the old priest I have mentioned earlier said, “If we can’t do what we can’t do, we can do what we can do,” and if we are faithful to our personal prayers and to our assistance at Mass, these religious practices will gradually emancipate us from slavish subjection to temporal and passing material things, help us to recover our sense of true values, and let into our lives the light of spiritual realities.

THE WORLD NOT ALL

The more we think, the more we see the necessity of this recovery of our sense of true values. It may be that our civilization will perish unless people turn to God. But the real reason for a return to God is that

He wants us and we need Him. In Him alone will we find a purpose great enough to satisfy the innate longings which are part of our very nature. Man lives by bread, but not by bread alone. He hungers for faith and hope and love. And his faith must be faith in something, in someone.

Communists speak of the Christian hope as “Pie in the sky when you die.” But everyone knows that to be a cari—cature; that it’s not “pie,” nor in the “sky,” that awaits us. However, there are many who are not Communists, yet who refuse to look beyond this life at all. “Give me enough to eat and drink, a decent home, and a wife or husband as the case may be, and a certain amount of enjoyment, and that’s all I ask of life.”

But that’s all an animal asks- food, shelter, a mate, and a bit of play when young. And we are not mere animals. The man who lives like that may say, “Well, I”m happy;” but he is not half as happy as he is meant to be. He is neither putting into life nor getting out of it anything like what he could. He is missing the real meaning and direction of life, and will end having had no serious purpose, having done no particular good, and having a judgment to face for having rejected the one hope of his salvation.

AND THEN THE JUDGMENT

The eternal truths are realities, whatever we choose to do about them. Thus all admit that death comes to everybody, and that they too must die. But many refuse to believe this in practice and behave as if they were going to live forever and never die. Yet the shadow of death is always there; and the dread of what lies beyond it is never really lifted from us, however little we can bear to think about it.

So, too, the great facts of the Incarnation and of the Catholic Church remain the same, whether we take notice of them or not. But to behave as if the Incarnation had never happened and as if Our Lord had never gone to the trouble of establishing His Church at all; to behave as if these things had nothing whatever to do with you, is a very great sin. “When the Holy Ghost is come,” Our Lord said, “He will convince the world of sin, because they believed not in Me.” It is true that people whose eyes are dim to God are little concerned about their sins. Conscience can be repressed so that its voice is scarcely heard. People can even pretend to themselves that what is wrong is right, when they wish to do it. But God’s law is still there, and is still what it is.

Can we help asking ourselves whether God is satisfied with us, and whether it matters whether He is or not? He is going to ask us some day what we have made of our religion; what our religion has meant to us, and we to it. And there is a judgment, with a possible sentence of eternal condemnation. If you say, “I don’t worry about the next world,” then spare yourself having to worry about it when you’re in it. Use this life as a preparation for it-a brief period during which you are free to ensure for yourself eternal happiness, instead of the loss of it and all that that will mean.

DAYDREAMS WON”T DO

Every Catholic -even the missing Catholic-finds himself thinking at times along these lines. For things happen that bring home to him the fact that his faith is not dead yet.

A young garage hand, who had been coming to me for instructions during several months, on hearing that I was to go away to a distant place for quite a time, begged me to receive him into the Church before I went. The only opportunity was on the following Tuesday morning, which would mean his being late on the job that day.

“I”11 manage it, Father,” he said, “The boss isn’t a Catholic, and we’re very busy, but I think I”11 be able to get around him.”

The lad turned up at the appointed time and was duly received into the Church. Afterwards I said to him, “The boss didn’t mind?” “Not in the end,” he said. “But when I first mentioned it to him, he just exploded. Literally shouted that we were behind with everything, that he wasn’t going to have any slackers hanging around his shop, and that he wouldn’t hear of it. When I could get a word in, I told him that I was going to become a Catholic, that the priest was going away, and the only chance he had to receive me into the Church was this morning. You should have seen the change that came over him. He stopped as if somebody had hit him on the head with a hammer. Then he put out his hand and said, “God bless you, Bob. You can have a week off for that if you need it. I only hope you’ll be a better Catholic than I am.” Then he just turned away and left me breathless. No one in the place had ever guessed that he was a Catholic. It’s wonderful where they turn up, Father, when you come to think of it!”

That boss was a typical missing Catholic: faith enough to be happy in the thought of others becoming Catholics, yet not conviction enough to live up to his religion himself. Or maybe there was nothing wrong with his convictions. He had just drifted away, still hoping that all would come right in the end-a hope very near to presumption, ever liable to fall into the other extreme of despair.

Cardinal Manning has well described such types. “Men are ever beguiling themselves,” he writes, “with a dream that they shall be what they are not now; they hope one day to be different; they balance their present consciousness of a low worldly life, and of a mind heavy and dull to spiritual things, with the lazy thought that some day God will bring home to them in power the realities of faith in Christ. So men dream away their lives in pleasure, sloth, trade or study. Who is there that has not at some time secretly indulged this soothing flattering, that the staid gravity of age, when youth is quelled; or the leisure of retirement, when the fret of busy life is over; or, it may be, the inevitable pains and griefs which are man’s inheritance, shall one day break up in his heart the now sealed fountain of repentance and make at last his religion a reality? Who has not allayed the uneasy consciousness of a meagre religion with the hope of a future change? Who has not been mocked by the enemy of mankind, the enemy of every man? Who has not listened, all too readily to him who would cheat us of the hour that is, and of the spiritual earnings which faith makes day by day in God’s service, stealing from us the present hour that is, and leaving us a lie in exchange?”

How well I remember being called to the deathbed of a military officer who had abandoned the Protestantism of his youth for a life of complete irreligion! In his last lingering illness from cancer of the lungs and throat, due to his having been gassed during the First World War, he had taken up the study of the Catholic religion. As a result he asked to be received into the Catholic Church. But the new realization of the things that really matter drew from him the remark, “Well, Father, I”m saving my soul, but I”ve lost my life. That life I used for myself as long as it was any good to me. But now it’s of no use any more, I”m giving God the dregs. I wish to God I had been a Catholic as a boy. Things would have been very different then.”

THE ONLY CHOICE

Surely the only sensible choice is to take up our religion and to make the most of it whilst the opportunity is ours. We are living in the midst of a serious emergency, a time of economic and social troubles both national and international. And there are those who say that these anxieties are more than enough to occupy their thoughts-that it will be time enough to think about religion when things get better. But what made the emergency? Not the things we see. Evil dispositions in the souls of men have been the main cause of all the troubles. And the problems will be there until we put our souls right with God.

How to go about that, we Catholics know. The Catholic Church still lives, and is the one true Church. She is the Church of the centuries, from which the Western nations departed with anything but a blessing to themselves, and in drifting from which no individual Catholic has yet found true happiness.

Faith in his religion, attendance at Mass, reception of the Sacraments, personal prayer, efforts to live up to the commandments of God and to the precepts of the Church; these are the things that alone can give happiness to the soul of the Catholic; and even in this life, not to speak of the next.

So we come to the end of this little book, in the writing of which I myself have been a prey to many varied sentiments in turn.

For a Catholic cannot dwell on the thought of the Catholic Church to which he belongs without pride in all that she is in herself, indignation that her enemies should utter such vile calumnies against her and seek only to do her injury, a renewed love for the high ideals she ever puts before him, shame and a sense of guilt that in his own life he should fall so far short of them, and a wistful longing for those loftier standards in practice which his better-self cannot but approve.

And is there a missing Catholic who has read these pages unmoved in any or all of these ways? I do not believe it. I have mentioned the taunt: “You’re a Catholic, and you’ll never be anything else.” That is true; though it is not an insult, as bitterly prejudiced people imagine, but a compliment. We appreciate it as such. But can one be a Catholic, and not respond to all that has been said in this little book?

Then, I would say, for the love of God, do something about it. Determine to improve your knowledge of your religion. Read all you can find on that subject. We all need to do that, for the teachings of our religion will not remain automatically alive in our memories. We need constantly to remind ourselves of them. Take up your prayers and your regular attendance at Mass. Go to see your priest, and if there are any obstacles in your way, talk them over with him. He will explain ways and means. They may be much smoother and easier than you at present imagine. And the happiness awaiting you will be beyond all the expectations with which you set out on your new programme of life as a practical Catholic.

Nihil Obstat:

D. P. MURPHY, Censor Dioc.

Imprimatur:

@ D. MANNIX, D.D., LL.D., Archiepiscopus Melbournensis.

********

Mistakes About Mary

D. F. MILLER, C.SS.R

INDEX

Here are the major mistakes that keep evangelical Protestants from honouring the Mother of Christ. Every Catholic should know what they are; every Protestant should learn why they are wrong.

If you are a Catholic, and have had any contact or experience with evangelical Protestants, you have often wondered how it is possible for the latter to hold the position they do on the place of Mary, the Mother of Christ, in the plan of salvation outlined by the Redeemer. That position is so completely contradictory of the Catholic stand, so uncompromising and extreme in its opposition to paying any honour to Mary, that it cries for some kind of an explanation.

If you are an evangelical Protestant, the same consciousness of contradiction between yourself and Catholics on this one point must frequently arouse the curiosity of your mind. You cannot, if you are normal, just ignore the centuries old Catholic position, never wondering why you are so far removed from it. The subject pleads for exploration by your mind.

Both for the Catholic who wonders and the non-Catholic who is mystified by this situation, here is an explanation. It consists of the major arguments that Protestants have used throughout their rather brief history for not paying any attention to the Mother of Christ, and of the statement of those elements in the arguments that are contrary to fact or truth. The arguments are not made up; they are taken from Protestant tracts, pamphlets, sermons and books, and from actual Protestants who have presented them to the writer. Not all of them have been used by all Protestants, but wherever there is opposition to the honoring of Mary, some of these arguments will be found. The point that they are based on untruths or on statements that are contrary to fact, must not be taken as a sign of bad will on the part of those who use the arguments; they have been handed down for so many generations as demonstrated truths that there are many persons alive who have never had a chance to check them against the facts. Here then are the arguments, followed by an explanation of where they are contrary to fact or truth.

1. Adoration is due only to God. Catholics fail against this basic principle of religion by adoring the Virgin Mary, either in principle or in practice.

One entire Protestant pamphlet before us is dedicated to the task of proving that Catholics adore the Virgin Mary. Here are the facts: All Catholics agree without reservation that adoration may be given only to God. In fact, by their very definition of adoration they make it impossible or ridiculous to consider giving adoration to anyone but God. They define adoration as an act whereby a creature recognizes and asserts the supreme authority and the infinite perfections of his Creator, and the creature’s obligation of submission and obedience to Him. To adore any person or thing other than God alone constitutes the sin of idolatry. Catholics know that the Mother of Christ is a creature, like themselves brought out of nothing into being by God, and that to adore her in word or in action would be gravely contrary to the first commandment.

2. St. Paul states in Timothy, 2:5, that “there is only one mediator between God and men, Jesus Christ, who gave himself as a ransom for them all.” Catholics look upon the Virgin Mary as a mediator between God and men, and say that she can save those who pray to her. This is clearly contrary to the teaching of the Bible.

Here are the facts: Catholics accept the full and exact meaning of the words of St. Paul, that Jesus Christ is the only mediator who could have redeemed the human race, and that without His sacrifice on the cross, no prayers, sufferings or “mediation” on the part of anyone else could have brought salvation to any human being. Once this is established, it is clearly not wrong to use the word “mediator” in a secondary sense, as signifying anyone who prays for another with full dependence on the merits of Jesus Christ. That God permits such mediation is evident from the fact that He allowed Abraham to plead with Him for the cities of Sodom and Gomorrah. St. Paul declared himself to be a mediator in this sense when he wrote to the Colossians, 1:9, “we have been praying for you. Our prayer is that you may be filled with that closer knowledge of God’s will which brings all wisdom and all spiritual insight with it.” It is in this sense that Catholics look upon Mary as a mediator, not that she could possibly take the place of Christ in saving anyone, nor even that she could do anything for anyone except through the merits of Christ, but that she can and does pray, like Abraham and St. Paul, for sinners. She is of course, the highest of all praying mediators because of all creatures she is the closest and dearest to the Son of God.

3. This command is given in the Bible, Exodus, 20:4: “Thou shalt not make to thyself a graven thing, nor the likeness of anything that is in heaven above or in the earth beneath, nor of those things that are in the waters under the earth.” Devotion to the Mother of Christ among Catholics is always bound up with images, icons, pictures, statues and shrines. The use of all such objects is strictly forbidden by the text above, and therefore devotion to Mary is contrary toGod’s command.

The above prohibition in the book of Exodus obviously and clearly refers to graven images made to be served and adored as gods. Indeed, the very next line of Exodus, following the above quotation, explains it: “Thou shalt not adore them norserve them.” The folly of interpreting the lines to mean that human beings are never to use any images or statues in religion is clear from the fact that in the same book of Exodus the chosen people are commanded to make certain graven images for use in the temple. For example in chapter 25:18, God commands them “to make two cherubims of beaten gold, to be placed one on each side of the oracle in the temple.”

Clearly, then, the ban on images is only on those that are made to be adored as gods. The fact is that Catholics look upon images of Mary as merely reminders of her, and are not permitted to give them the slightest sign of adoration.

4. Much of the honour paid to Mary by Catholics is based on the fact that they maintain that she was always a virgin.This is contradicted by two texts in the Bible: 1) Luke, 2:17, which says “she brought forth her firstborn son,” thus indicating that there were other sons later; 2) Matthew, 12:46, in which the statement is made that “his (Jesus’) mother and brethren stood without, seeking to speak to him,” thus proving that Mary had other children besides Jesus.

It is true that the perpetual virginity of Mary is one of the prerogatives that inspire Catholics to honour her. Neither of the two texts quoted above casts the least shadow of doubt on that perpetual virginity, St. Luke uses the phrase “first-born son” in his Gospel, because the Jewish law required special ceremonies to be carried out in respect to a first-born son, so that every such son was specifically called “first-born” whether the mother ever had another son or not. The phrase “brethren of Jesus,” as used in the Aramaic of St. Matthew, has the force of “relatives,” not of blood brothers, a fact that can be proved by other uses of the same word in the Old Testament and by the identification of some of the “brethren” spoken of as cousins of Jesus.

5. Superstition is the belief that certain meaningless and foolish actions will bring down the favor of heaven. Now, many of the actions used by Catholics in connection with devotion to the Virgin Mary, such as wearing medals, using rosaries, burning candles before shrines, etc., are meaningless and foolish. Therefore devotion to the Mother of Christ is superstitious.

Catholics agree that meaningless and foolish actions, to which a person would attribute a divine and magical power to help him, would indeed be superstitious. The fact is, however, that the wearing of medals, the use of rosaries and the adorning of shrines do not fulfill that definition. Catholics in no wise attribute to these things a magical or mysterious power; they use them as material reminders of the invisible persons of Jesus and Mary, and therefore as helpful in recalling often to mind the importance of prayer. It is no more meaningless and superstitious to wear a medal in honour of the Mother of Christ, or to erect a beautiful shrine for her picture, than it is for any man to carry a photo of his mother or sweetheart in his billfold or watch, or for a nation to commemorate its heroes in statues or on stamps.

6. In the early days of Christianity nobody ever thought of practicing devotion to Mary. It was an abuse that crept in long after primitive Christianity.

This statement is completely erroneous in point of fact. In the catacomb of St. Priscilla beneath the city of Rome, which was one of the earliest of the catacombs and was most probably used by Sts. Peter and Paul, there is a picture of the Madonna painted on the wall. In fact, more than sixty images of the Virgin Mary, some of them representing her alone and some of them showing her with the Child Jesus, have been uncovered in just a few of the catacombs, proving that the same fond devotion to Mary that may be found among Catholics today flourished among the Christians of the first three centuries.

7. Only those religious practices are licit which are authorized in the Bible. Nowhere in the Bible is there the slightest suggestion of approval for the practice of praying to the saints or to the Mother of Christ. Therefore this practice is contrary to the wishes of Christ and the commands of God.

Catholics believe that since the New Testament of the Bible was not even written until after Christ had ascended into heaven and was not completed till more than two generations later, it could not have been meant to be the sole rule of life for Christians; what Christ said to the Apostles and what they handed down was certainly more important for the generations of Christians who lived before the Bible was completed and known. However, the fact is that even in the Bible there is plenty of authorization for honoring Mary and asking for her intercession. It was an angel from heaven who said to Mary (Luke, 1:28):

“Hail, full of grace, the Lord is with thee. Blessed are thou . . .” Surely the example of one of God’s angels may be followed by men. It was Christ Himself who showed the world how He would honour Mary’s prayers by granting her request for wine on behalf of the young bride and groom at Cana. Above all, however, it is the very fact of Mary’s closeness to Christ as presented in the Bible, her being chosen by God to bring Him forth, to be with Him throughout His childhood and youth, and to share His terrible passion, that gives complete foundation for the doctrine that Christians should honour her who was so honored by God, and beg for her intercession because she was and still is so close to God. As to the practice of praying to saints in heaven in general, both the Old Testament of the Bible, with its many stories of how angels are permitted to help men, and the Apocalypse in the New Testament, with its many references to the voices of the saints in heaven, give ample Scriptural background for its goodness and power.

8. It is a fact that intense devotion to the Mother of Christ flourishes especially among the illiterate, e.g., in Italy, in Mexico, and among the least cultured and educated in America. This is at least a good sign that it does not belong in the religion of an educated person.

It is simply untrue that devotion to the Mother of Christ is confined to illiterate people, or even to the not very well educated. There have been, and are, leaders in every field of human knowledge and achievement who have practiced a truly childlike, typically Catholic devotion to the Mother of God. And to despise something that the illiterate do because they are illiterate is to insult Christ Himself, who did most of His work for the illiterate and even chose such for His apostles.

9. It is a very common sight to see great sinners kneeling before statues and shrines of the Virgin Mary and praying for favors. It is obvious that the reason for this is that Catholics believe that it doesn’t matter how much they sin, or what kind of lives they lead; so long as they pray to the Virgin Mary, they believe they will be saved.

It would be blasphemous for any Catholic to assert that the Virgin Mary could help him in any way without an intention on his part to give up sin and to love God with all his heart and soul. Sinners are urged to pray to her for the grace of repentance and reform; if they pray to her for any material favor without being willing to give up sin, they are spiritually illiterate, superstitious and un-Catholic. As to salvation, Catholics believe that this depends on the merits of Jesus Christ, the faith of the individual, the fulfillment of Christ’s commandments, and the use of the means of grace. When a Catholic prays to the Blessed Virgin, he is asking her for help and grace to fulfill the requirements for salvation; he does not expect to be enabled to circumvent them in any way.

10. God is all-powerful, and has clearly manifested His desire to grant us the graces necessary for salvation and even other favors on condition that we ask Him for these things in prayer. Therefore there is no reason for addressing our prayers to anybody except God.

The same all-powerful God, Who needs no one to help Him accomplish anything, of His own divine will chose to make Mary His helper in becoming man and preparing Himself for His public ministry and His death on the cross. Because of that, He chose to love her with a very special love, and to permit her to ask and receive extraordinary favors from Him on behalf of those whom she loved. This is clear from the miracle at the wedding feast in Cana, when at His Mother’s request the Son of God changed water into wine to save her friends from embarrassment. In the same manner, God approves of our asking His Mother to speak to Him in our behalf, so long as we remember that it is always God’s grace and God’s power that actually answer our prayers. In a real sense, therefore, prayers for Mary’s intercession are prayers that are intended to reach God through her.

11. The only requirement for salvation is faith in Jesus Christ. Nothing else is necessary or profitable to attain that end. Therefore the final and clinching argument against devotion to the Mother of Christ is that it is contrary to the basic principle of Protestant Christianity, viz., that the one and only thing a man can do and must do for the salvation of his soul is to believe firmly in Jesus Christ.

To one who is content to rest on this “ basic principle of Protestant Christianity,” in the face of all the clear commands of the Bible that one must keep the commandments, pray without ceasing, make use of the sacraments, besides believing in Christ, there is little to be said. To anyone who will take the Bible as a whole, who will accept, not only Christ’s command that he believe in Him, but also His other commandments and instructions, it can be made amply clear that He chose a Mother, endowed her with all beauty and fullness of grace, and permitted her to cooperate with Him in effecting the redemption of mankind, in order that men might beg for her intercession in behalf of the graces they would need to save their souls. Basically, then, the contradiction is between those who take a part of the Bible for guidance on the way to salvation, and those who take all of the Bible.

On which side are you?

Imprimi Potest:

John N. McCormick, C.SS.R. Provincial, St. Louis Province. Redemptorist Fathers

May 18, 1959

Imprimatur:

St. Louis, May 22. 1959 @ Joseph E. Ritter

Archbishop of St. Louis

********

Mixed Marriages

MOST REV. JOHN C, HEENAN, D.D

INDEX

A LETTER TO A NON-CATHOLIC

MY DEAR FRIEND,-You have become friendly with a Catholic but before deciding on marriage you ask me to explain the attitude of the Catholic Church to mixed marriages. Some people think that the Catholic Church is very narrow-minded in discouraging mixed marriages. Do Catholics imagine that they are better than everybody else? We had better clear up this point at the very beginning. When talking about the evils of mixed marriages the Church has in mind the good of Protestants as well as Catholics. You will understand this better when you have read a little further.

There is something else we must make clear before talking about mixed marriages. It concerns the marriage of two Protestants. Two Protestants married in their own Church are just as truly married as two Catholics married in the Catholic Church. Christian marriage was not invented by the Catholic Church. Holy Matrimony is a sacrament given to the world by Jesus Christ the Son of God. The Catholic Church does not say that you are not good enough for a Catholic. The Catholic Church says that if you are not a Catholic you probably won’t be happy if you marry a Catholic. I don’t expect you to agree with that view. So let me explain what the Church has in mind.

Marriage is a contract between two people. A man and woman accept each other as man and wife until one or other dies. It is a complete and unconditional surrender. On the day of their marriage they take each other “for better for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, till death do us part.”

So a marriage is not something you can try to see how it will turn out. Once you marry there is no going back. You may discover in later years that you have made an unwise choice. Your partner may prove unkind or unfaithful. War, sickness, loss of a job, crime-anything may spoil the ideal marriage you had imagined. But if you are married nothing will break the marriage bond. There will be no question of divorce. That is one reason why it is so important for you to go into marriage with a Catholic with your eyes wide open. The Church, of course, regards all true marriages, wherever celebrated, as permanent. So a divorced person is not free to marry a Catholic.

MIXED MARRIAGES OFTEN FAIL

There are all sorts of reasons why mixed marriages go wrong. It is only fair to you to tell you about them now. But before we look at them, let us admit that some mixed marriages seem to turn out well. That is just what you would expect. If a mixed marriage were bound to fail the Catholic Church would never allow Catholics to contract such a marriage. The Church, in fact, would be glad if mixed marriages never did take place. But there are sometimes good reasons for allowing them. Then the Church does what is possible to avoid the dangers. But, as you will see, despite all precautions things very often go wrong.

Do not think that I am over-stating the case when I say that things go wrong very often. It is true that your experience may lead you to doubt this fact. Probably friends of yours have married Catholics and, so far as you know, they are absolutely happy. They don’t quarrel about religion and they don’t regret their marriage. It is natural for you to think that your mixed marriage would turn out that way. So it is just as well for you to know right away that such mixed marriages are not the rule but the exception. For every mixed marriage which is perfectly happy I could show you a dozen which are not. Any priest will tell you the same.

I am not saying that most mixed marriages break up, but only that, far more often than not, they are not really happy marriages. There are thousands of partners of mixed marriages who, though they would never think of separation or divorce, regret their marriage. Do not judge by appearances; for decent people like to show a brave face to the world. But any Catholic priest could tell you, from first-hand experience of families, that partners of a mixed marriage usually feel that they have made a mistake. The strain can be too great. I want to tell you the kind of thing that can easily upset a mixed marriage.

For the first few months most marriages go smoothly. That is natural. The thrill of setting up home with someone you love is almost bound to overcome all difficulties at the beginning of married life. It is said that familiarity breeds contempt. Like most old sayings, that is only partly true. But young couples are likely, in fact, to make more allowances for each other’s faults on the honeymoon than after ten years. The longer people live together the more they learn about each other’s characters. If love is true and deep, husband and wife grow closer with the years. But if love is not real, husband and wife grow more intolerant of each other’s faults. The atmosphere of a home, instead of being one of peace, may become, if not actually warlike, a kind of armed neutrality. There are grumbles, arguments and wounding silences.

When love is true, as I have said, husband and wife grow closer with the passing of time. This may be, strangely, an obstacle to success in a mixed marriage. The more people love each other the more they want to share all the good things of life. But for a convinced and sincere Catholic the best thing in life is the Faith. There must always be an intimate and important part of life which a Catholic cannot share with a non-Catholic partner. This matters more as people grow older. Age always brings a certain loneliness. When a couple is divided on religion that loneliness becomes more painful.

You may think that I am wrong here. You don’t see why religion should make all that difference. After all, some of your best friends are Catholics. You respect their views and they respect yours. You don’t argue about religion or, if you do, it is a perfectly friendly argument. If you marry a Catholic why not carry on in the same way? You are not going to interfere and you are not going to be interfered with. So why should religion spoil anything? A wife and husband can belong to different political parties. They don’t necessarily like the same television programmes. They disagree on details like this and remain happy and united, so why should religion make such a difference?

That is the whole point. If you marry a Catholic you will find out that religion makes all the difference in the world. I mean, of course, if you marry a true Catholic. If you marry a Catholic who is unfaithful to the Catholic religion the outlook for a happy marriage is, in any case, not very bright. But let us suppose that you intend to marry what we call a practising Catholic. You are asked, when you come to be married, to promise not to interfere with the religion of your Catholic partner and to allow all the children who may be born of your marriage to be brought up in the Catholic religion. That sounds very easy. But, as I shall show you, this promise is not at all easy to keep. It is because the promise is hard to keep that so many mixed marriages fail.

There is often an argument about where you are going to be married. Why must it be in the Catholic Church? What about your rights? You may not go to your own church or chapel very often but you and your people can’t see why the ceremony shouldn’t be in your religion. You think it would be reasonable to compromise and have two ceremonies- one in each church. The Catholic Church is not really unreasonable in refusing this arrangement. Holy Matrimony is a sacrament. A Catholic may not receive the sacraments in a Protestant church or chapel or in a Register Office. You should not expect a Catholic to receive this or any other sacrament in a non-Catholic church. A Catholic would be a hypocrite, for example, to “take communion” in the Church of England. But why should you be the one to give in? Now you see the kind of difficulty that arises. If you do not understand that to the Catholic there is only one true Church of Christ and that all other religions are false, you will not be able to live happily with a Catholic. Notice that Catholics do not say that Protestants are not living good Christian lives. Many Protestants are far better than many Catholics. It is a question of true and false doctrine. Catholics may not take an active part in the worship of a false religion. So there can be no question of two religious ceremonies.

Now let us come back to the promises. It sounds easy to promise not to interfere with your partner’s religion. But it is not so easy as it sounds. You may think that all your partner’s religion means is going to Mass on Sunday. If that were all it meant most mixed marriages would probably turn out well. But being a Catholic means much more than going to Mass. The Catholic religion is not just a way of saying prayers but a way of living. Non-Catholics often do not understand this until after they marry Catholics.

I doubt if you have the same ideas about marriage as the Catholic you are thinking of marrying. What do you think marriage is for? A Catholic believes that God made marriage mainly to provide for children. Animals are not born into families. As soon as they are strong enough to fend for themselves they lead independent lives. But children for many years need the help of a father and mother and the security of a home. There would be no need for marriage or the family if men were merely animals. So the object of marriage is not only the birth but the education of children. That, of course, is not the only purpose of marriage but it is the first. The second is to enable two people in love to give each other the pleasure of intercourse and the comfort of family life. This all sounds very simple. But marriages are always breaking up because people do not share the same views on the purpose of marriage.

BIRTH PREVENTION

Take birth prevention. Catholics do not believe, as is sometimes said, that their duty is to have as many children as they can in the shortest possible time. But Catholics hold that intercourse between husband and wife must not be frustrated by unnatural means. Catholics accept the teaching of Christ. It is sometimes hard to keep the law of God. A young couple with a growing family may be severely tempted to use contraceptives. Now if husband and wife are Catholics, they both know that it would be wrong. They can encourage each other to fight temptation. They can go together often to Holy Communion to obtain grace to resist sin. But in a mixed marriage birth prevention often becomes a source of strife and misery.

You do not need to be a Catholic to see how easy it is for a marriage to be ruined by a conflict of this kind. You may honestly believe in the use of contraceptives. If you are a Protestant you may know that your sect does not condemn contraceptives. If you belong to no church you probably can’t see any reason against their use. You may think it unfair that you have to suffer because the Catholic Church has private rules for its members. But here you will be in error. The practice of contraception is not a private rule. It is sinful not because the Church forbids it but because it is against the law of God.

This is not the place to prove why unnatural acts are sinful. I mention contraception only as an example of what makes life more difficult in a mixed marriage. When your Catholic partner refuses intercourse if contraceptives are to be used you may become frustrated and resentful. If, on the other hand, your Catholic partner gives way, you are little better off. Intercourse with a sense of guilt makes a mockery of the act of love. You may preserve your peace of mind but your Catholic partner will not. The Catholic may be so upset in conscience as to give up the full practice of the Faith. The Catholic, peaceful in conscience, used to receive Holy Communion every week. Under pressure from you, acts are permitted which to the Catholic are immoral. The Catholic feels unable to go to Confession or receive Holy Communion. It is the turn of the Catholic to grow frustrated and unhappy.

Do not think that I am painting an imaginary picture. I am telling you what often happens in mixed marriages. It is only right for you to know these things before you marry a Catholic. When you promise not to interfere with the religion of your Catholic partner you undertake not to make demands which to the Catholic are sinful. You may reply that many Catholics use contraceptives. That is true. There are also Catholics who cheat, lie and commit adultery. But I am supposing that you intend to marry a Catholic who wants to obey God’s Commandments. If you induce a Catholic to do wrong it is no excuse to say that other Catholics also do wrong. That is to degrade the person you are pledged to honour.

THE CHILDREN

The next most common cause of dissension in a mixed marriage is the Catholic upbringing of children. Most non-Catholics when they promise to allow their children to be brought up as Catholics really mean what they say. But sometimes they do not realize what their promise entails. It is easy to agree to the Baptism of a child in the Catholic Church instead of the Church of England. But it is often not so easy when the time comes. Protestant relatives may bring strong pressure on you to go back on your word. Your own Protestant instincts may suddenly come to life even if you never attend your own church.

But when the child is of school age, keeping the promise may become still more difficult. Let me give you a very simple and common instance of how conflict arises over the education of children. Although Catholics spend millions of pounds on schools, there are hundreds of old buildings still to be replaced. This is especially true in large towns. You may regard it as absurd to send your child a mile’s journey to an old Catholic school if there is an up-to-date County School just across the road. It can’t matter very much, you think, what teaching is given to a child of five. Nobody is going to attack the Catholic religion in an Infants’ school. You consider it perfectly reasonable for your child to go to the County School until it is a little older. It can get all the religion it needs on Sunday in church or at home from the Catholic parent.

Catholic mothers and fathers do not agree. They regard not the building but the teaching as the main feature of a school. They know that even in the Infants’ school a Catholic child begins to learn its religion. They also know that once a child starts school and makes friends, it resents having to start all over again at the age of seven or eight. That is why the Catholic parent will fight to secure Catholic schooling for the child from its earliest years. The Catholic does not have to fight if the promises made by the non-Catholic partner are honoured in their spirit. Children should not be a cause of friction between parents but a bond to draw them more closely together.

Among all classes it is found that disharmony commonly arises over the education of children. Public School men for traditional and social reasons often insist, despite their promises, that sons shall go to the father’s old school. In working class areas, as they are called, parents easily accept the argument that large and new County Schools give children a better start in life than the smaller, and often older, Catholic Schools. But Catholics are ready to insist on the right of their children to be educated in a Catholic School.

I am giving you, admittedly, the dark side of the picture. This is because I want you to realise why the Catholic Church opposes mixed marriages. Experience has shown that such marriages are too often unhappy. There is, of course, another side to the picture which I shall give you later on. But it is only fair to tell you first why mixed marriages so frequently fail.

WHY MIXED MARRIAGES FAIL

Marrying a Catholic is not like marrying a person of any other religion. If, for example, an Anglican marries a Presbyterian or a Methodist there is no reason to fear that such a marriage will fail on religious grounds. Both, after all, are Protestants. They belong to sects which do not insist on the traditional Christian teaching on marriage. Thus the Catholic Church alone forbids divorce in a valid and consummated marriage. Among Protestants, opinions vary. Some hold stricter views than others-it is a matter of personal and private judgment. That is the essence of the Protestant Faith. Outside the Catholic Church no Christian denomination would refuse to remarry the innocent partner of a divorce. Some clergyman can always be found to perform the ceremony. Then, as we have already said, contraception is not absolutely forbidden by Protestant teaching. Nor is there any problem about the education of Protestant children. County Schools teach a religion which is neither Anglican nor Nonconformist. Protestant parents of different religious persuasions need not fall out about the kind of religious teaching their children will receive in a County School. By law County Schools are forbidden to teach definite doctrines.

Catholics may grow careless but they usually retain their religious convictions. Non-Catholics are sometimes surprised to discover how deeply even careless Catholics feel about their religion. Though not regular in attending Mass, Catholics will vehemently defend their Church against attack. This brings me to another cause of unhappiness in mixed marriages. It is not so important as the others I have described, but it deserves to be mentioned. Non-Catholics, as their children grow up, may develop a sense of not-belonging to the family. The Catholic parent and the children have much in common which is not shared by the non-Catholic. The non-Catholic may feel isolated. The Catholic parent, in turn, may become increasingly envious of those families which are completely Catholic. Let us take a very obvious example. A priest calls regularly on his flock. But his call may give rise to embarrassment in a mixed marriage home. He will not call if his visit is going to make family life more difficult. This makes the Catholic partner feel isolated from the Church. But even if the priest and callers from the local church are made welcome there is often a certain restraint. The conversation has to be guarded. This is the kind of situation which makes Catholics realize the shortcomings of a mixed marriage.

Even chance remarks may lead to misunderstanding. Catholics have a way of talking among themselves which is often infuriating to a non-Catholic. They will be delighted if a well-known sportsman, actor or writer is a Catholic. No Anglican, for instance, would think of rejoicing if the captain of the English Test team were a member of the Church of England. Except to a Catholic the religion of a public figure is irrelevant. To the Catholic it is often absurdly relevant. This is only a tiny point but even small things can become most irritating.

The news on the radio or in a daily paper can often cause upsets in a home where there is a non-Catholic. The Pope may make some pronouncement. A scandal involving Catholics may be widely reported. Where there is unity of faith such news items can be discussed without passion. But most Catholics are sensitive about their religion and even mild criticisms of the Church may cause resentment and start a quarrel.

I refrain from discussing mixed marriages where the non-Catholic is actively hostile to the Church. It need hardly be said that such marriages are always a failure. Unfortunately a non-Catholic originally not hostile may become anti-Catholic in course of time. In all honesty a non-Catholic may not have realized all that marrying a Catholic entailed. After marriage the non-Catholic may feel defrauded or even trapped. But it is so obvious that a mixed marriage will fail if the non-Catholic is not at least sympathetic to the Church that there is no need to say more.

SUCCESSFUL MIXED MARRIAGES

Let us now come to the brighter side of the picture. A non-Catholic contemplating a mixed marriage may realize what the future holds. The promises are understood and faithfully carried out. We have all known marriages of this kind. Here is a non-Catholic determined that this mixed marriage is going to be a happy one. The conscience of the Catholic will be respected and there will be no attacks on the Catholic religion. The Catholic resolves to be equally scrupulous in refusing to attack non-Catholic beliefs. The children will be sent to a Catholic school whatever the inconvenience. All turns out as planned. The non-Catholic takes a real interest in the spiritual life of the children. No Catholic could be more insistent that the children must be at Mass on Sunday in good time. The non-Catholic is in church for all great occasions like First Holy Communion Day. Social events are attended with the rest of the family and perhaps the non-Catholic is active in support of the local parish. The priest is made just as welcome by the non-Catholic as by the Catholics in the family.

If all mixed marriages were like this there would be no need for the Catholic Church to deplore the evils resulting from mixed marriages. It may seem strange but there is more likelihood of a mixed marriage being successful if the non-Catholic is a worshipping member of some Protestant sect. Many mixed marriages fail because non-Catholic partners simply and honestly do not think that religion is really important. If the non-Catholic is an unbeliever the Catholic has a hard road to travel.

Many, though belonging to no religious denomination, are not unbelievers. They know little or nothing about Christian teaching yet in their own way they lead Christian lives. They live honestly and are generous to those in need. Though not attending church they pray to God. They are tolerant and faithful to their promises. Before signing the promises required for a mixed marriage they thought carefully and now honour their bond. Such people make happy marriages. But, it must be stressed again, happy mixed marriages are rare.

Is there any way of guaranteeing that a mixed marriage will be successful? There is no certain way but two suggestions may be made. First, non-Catholics should not sign the promises without fully understanding what they mean. Nor should they sign the promises with a sense of grievance. They should remember that the Church has not only the right but the duty to demand these promises. Holy Matrimony is a Sacrament of the Church. So it is for the Church to lay down the rules. The Catholic Church does not force anyone to marry a Catholic. It is the non-Catholic who comes to ask the Church to bless the marriage. Since the institution of marriage has as its primary object the foundation of a family, the Church must safeguard the interests even of the unborn child. To be born of a Catholic parent is to have the right to inherit the Catholic religion. Nobody would call it unfair of a mother to fight for her children’s inheritance. This is what the Church does in requiring partners of a mixed marriage to promise to hand down the Faith to their children.

The second suggestion for making a mixed marriage happy is for husband and wife, from the very beginning, to say their night prayers together. This becomes more important as the family grows. If at the close of the day the whole family kneels together the blessing of God will rest upon the home. “Where two or three of you are together in My Name.” Jesus said “There am I in the midst of you.” Many non-Catholics attend Mass with the rest of the family and so give example and encouragement to the children. Nobody, of course, can become a Catholic without the gift of faith. It is impossible to become a Catholic merely to please the rest of the family. But frequently by their example and prayers the gift of faith comes to the non-Catholic.

THE VIEWS OF A NON-CATHOLIC

Please do not think that these strong views about the dangers of mixed marriages are the result of Catholic prejudice. But, in case you think that I have exaggerated, I want to give you some words from an article written in a London evening paper by a non-Catholic clergyman. The article appeared under the title Two Lovers-Two Faiths:

“Every marriage involves risk. In a mixed marriage there are particular snags which must be frankly faced. The difficulty arises whether or not the couple are devout in the practice of their religion. Those who have been reared in a certain religious faith cannot shake off its influence by discarding the intellectual beliefs.

“One particular factor arises in marriage with a Catholic which the non-Catholic will have to face very seriously. It is the Catholic attitude to birth control. . . . The non-Catholic must respect the attitude of his intended wife. He has no right to ask her to do anything which would violate her Faith; and he will not wish to do so if he truly loves her. . . . This is a point at which, for want of full consideration beforehand, marriages of this kind often come to grief. . . .

“One cannot live in the world today without recognizing that marriages do fail; and that the modern tendency, when they do, is to dissolve them all too lightly and start again. Let any man or woman who marries a Catholic recognize quite plainly at the outset that anything of that kind is absolutely out of the question. To the Catholic, marriage is a Sacrament, a bond which is indissoluble. . . . The Catholic standard of marriage is very high and no man should bind it upon himself by marrying a Catholic woman unless he is fully resolved to honour and respect it, come what may. . . .

“It would probably be a good thing if a Protestant is bent upon marrying a Catholic girl for him to seek out a wise and understanding Catholic priest and talk things over. One solution is found where the man can accept the Catholic faith and share the religion of his wife and family. But this will probably be impossible to a young man deeply devoted to his own religion. At the very least he should study the Catholic Faith-its doctrines and its way of life-so that he may understand as sympathetically as he can the world of ideals in which his intended wife lives and moves.”

Remember that the above was written by a non-Catholic clergyman. You will see how closely his views resemble those of the Catholic Church. The reason, of course, is that the Catholic view is the common-sense view. It stands to reason that people divided on the most important thing in life are risking their future if they marry.

CONCLUSION

I have tried, my dear Friend, to give you the Catholic point of view. I want to tell you that if you were a Catholic I would have written in a much more emphatic way. You, after all, cannot be expected to know the spiritual risks of a mixed marriage. But your Catholic friend has known them since childhood. I have never heard of a Catholic whose Faith and Catholic practices remained as strong after a mixed marriage as before. Most Catholic partners of a mixed marriage reduce the practice of their religion to an absolute minimum. Many more reduce it still further and for the sake of peace give up the practice of the Faith entirely. A Catholic, too, has a duty to remember the fate of thousands of children born of mixed marriages in this country. Born of a Catholic parent they had the right to inherit the Faith. But they have become the victims of broken promises. A weak Catholic has “for the sake of peace” given in to the non-Catholic.

There is no excuse for a Catholic who does not insist that, as a condition of marriage, a non-Catholic friend shall take a course of instruction in the Faith. Where there is full knowledge of the Catholic Faith the dangers of a mixed marriage are obviously lessened. It is now easy for non-Catholics to be instructed in the Faith by correspondence. If you decide to marry a Catholic be wise and learn as much as you can about the Faith before marriage. Whatever you may decide to do, I wish you God’s blessing.

JOHN C. HEENAN, Archbishop of Liverpool

Modern Secularism

FAITH AND UNFAITH IN THE MODERN AGE

DENYS G. M. JACKSON, M. A

INDEX

CHAPTER I

FAITH AND UNFAITH IN THE MODERN AGE

From the earliest ages, men have differed from one another in their conceptions of Divinity, their notions varying according to the degree of their intelligence and the level of their culture, and being affected by manifold other factors in their lives and circumstances. The overwhelming consensus of mankind, however, has been that a spiritual order existed, and interpenetrated our visible world: that the establishment of a right relationship with that order was a matter of overwhelming importance, both to individuals and to the community. Man could not live well—or be safe from disaster of varied kinds—unless he rendered this due to the hidden Powers which overshadowed his life, and exercised their secret control over the material world, which was commonly regarded as “the garment of the living Spirit.”

All the controversies of yesterday were between men who agreed, at least, upon the existence and importance of this Divine Order. This belief formed a basis of unity for Christians of every kind; and it linked Christendom with Judaism and Islam, and with the Platonist and Aristotelian philosophies, as well as with the pagan world of the Gentiles in Asia, Africa and America. To be sure, there were to be found a handful of disbelievers here and there—especially among highly civilized peoples: while there were a larger number of “worldlings” whose lives were conducted with small regard for anything but mundane motives and expediency. But one of the features of the modern world which seems to be new in the history of mankind is the systematic attempt which has been, and still is being made to expel or exclude the “spiritual idea” and its implications from the whole body of a civilization; an attempt which has, actually, achieved a very substantial degree of success.

Not only is full and clear belief in God more frequently absent from human lives than ever before, but the whole background of thought in which that belief is found is now very commonly rejected. It has become a basic assumption in our Western world that the temporal and material order is the only one of which we need to take practical account in our way of life, whether as individuals or as communities.

This assumption, it must be emphasized, is not peculiar to avowedly atheistic systems of thought like Communism: it underlies all the principal “ideologies” which have been contending for world power during the present 20th century: Fascism, Communism, Socialism and Democratic Liberalism as understood by many of its adherents. True, the “materialism” of these movements conceals an undercurrent of idealism whose origin is spiritual—and which gives them their driving force: but this force tends to grow weaker as the “perfume of the empty jar” of the rejected religious tradition gradually fades away, and the implications of a purely “space-and-time” view of man as a planetary social animal are realized in thought, and made the basis of action.

About the ultimate results of this process I shall have some reflections to make shortly: meanwhile I must re-emphasize the rampant fact of materialism of which any man of vivid and realistic supernatural faith must be aware in the world surrounding him—both in “new lands” like Australia and the United States, and in the older Western communities of Europe. Its outlook and values are reflected in our political and social life, in our press, radio, television, literature and cultural institutions, and in the day-to-day life of millions of our fellow-men. Just as the Western culture of the Middle Ages was Christian and Catholic, so the culture of our modern era is “secularist,” treating religious truth, in effect, as non-existent.

THE TWO WORLDS

The life of Faith, of course, continues to survive in the midst of this secularist civilization. We have—as Rosalind Murray has well said—“Two separate mental worlds, each self-contained” which exist side by side, intersecting and overlapping, though no more fusing than oil and water. Those who belong to one or the other are, in general, externally indistinguishable. They live side by side: they work together in office or bench or field: sometimes they are members of one family, or even sharers of one marriage-bed. Yet, spiritually, they remain poles apart: and it is becoming harder than ever to establish spiritual contact between one side and the other.

The Christian warriors and “Paynim” Moslems of the crusading era were far nearer akin to one another than many who dwell in constant and apparently intimate association in our own world.

We have said that the man of real faith cannot fail to be aware of this secret division between belief and non-belief. It is, however, largely ignored or treated as unimportant by public opinion and the organs through which that opinion is formed and expressed. Moreover, the attitude of “those who profess and call themselves Christians” reveals too often the unconscious infection of their thought by the prevailing tone of the world. They are, it seems, reconciled to this anomalous situation as though it were normal: and they, too, are accustomed to talk, act and think about everyday affairs as though the differences of basic attitude to life were of no particular account. It is taken for granted that political views, nationality, social class, intellect, taste, differences of technical knowledge and skill are important in classifying human beings: but classification according to “religious opinion” is regarded as giving undue importance to a purely private matter which has—or ought to have—no social significance. In the case of teachers, for instance, it is commonly assumed that “religious tests” are not only objectionable, but unnecessary—the official Catholic view to the contrary is regarded as reactionary bigotry. To the secular world it does not matter whether these people believe in God or not, so long as they can do their job without making life uncomfortable by insisting on their personal views about its meaning and purpose.

THE SECULARIST MIND AND RELIGIOUS PERSECUTION

Indeed, the typical secular-minded “Modern Man” has become so profoundly alienated from religion that it is incomprehensible to him that anyone can truly regard the order of things with which believers are concerned as real and of ultimate importance. When the fact of religious persecution or conflict is presented to him in the modern world, his first reaction is one of sheer disbelief. The stories are “propaganda,” invented to discredit the movements accused of intolerance. When the mass of evidence presented makes it impossible for him to hold this opinion any longer, he tries to interpret the conflict in terms of secularist “realism.” The Christian is a victim because he is suspected of Fascism, or “reactionary associations”; the militant “anti-God” atheism of the U.S.S.R. and Red Peking is a party-gesture which he deplores but explains away, treating it as without fundamental human or social significance, and therefore unfit for more than passing attention.

The “real” issue—as seen by most of the foes as well as the friends of Communism in this country—has no relation to this side of Red activity: it is concerned rather with questions like whether Soviet planning works efficiently or not, and whether the new “world order” which the Marxist-Leninist Revolution proposes to establish will be comfortable from the point of view of man’s peace and social well-being, and will help or hinder his “progress” in the sciences. Again, there is vivid interest in the possibilities of a compromise which will enable the Communist and Democratic-”Capitalist” ways of life to flourish side by side: or in that of a modification of the Communist ideology so that its adherents may pursue their objectives in a humane and efficient way, without resorting to the nastiness of police-terrorism, servile labour and armed blackmail and aggression. If some change of this sort could be accomplished, the great multitude of our people, as well as their leaders, would be perfectly satisfied. They are entirely uninterested in the tragedy of the massdestruction of spiritual belief and religious tradition by deliberate, organized pressure on the part of atheistic authorities: and—generally speaking—they regard the improvement of “living standards” and literacy as more than compensating for the destruction of human faith and hope and the vision of spiritual truth. And this multitude of secularist-minded people includes a large body of those who would profess themselves “believers” in God, and even in the Christian religion.

TOLERANCE AND INTOLERANCE

The secular assumption of the unimportance and unreality of religion is behind all the current smooth language about “agreeing to differ,” “living and letting live” and the rest of it. In effect, the believer is told that no one will interfere with his religion if he will conform in his actions and words to the secular convention that God is of no account. But if he ventures to challenge openly the current local standards of secularism, he is soon made to feel that he is a “peculiar” person, and that his sort of views are repugnant to the ruling influences of his world. For example, while Catholic beliefs about the Virgin Birth, Purgatory, the Assumption, Holy Images and so forth, are widely regarded with good-natured indifference, tinged with romantic sympathy or “scientific” contempt, it is different with the rulings of the Church about such things as divorce, “mixed” marriages, contraception, sterilization, abortion, difficult cases in childbirth, or euthanasia, in which the law of God is asserted dogmatically in fields which “modern thought” regards as governed solely by social expediency. Here, the reactions to Catholic views are frequently violent: and it is made clear that the intrusion of God as a Reality into the sphere of public policy and social life is regarded as intolerable. For the rest, the secularist “standard pattern” has been imposed on the free public education systems of this country and others, which is based on the implicit assumption of the unimportance of religion in the sphere of culture and general knowledge: and those who will not conform to this principle of secularist orthodoxy are obliged to pay a part of the expense for the secular school system based on it, as well as bearing the whole burden of their own “dissident” Christian educational structures (so sadly the position of Catholic schools in the Australia of the 1950s).

There are, in fact, no terms of reconciliation between the worlds of those who believe that Theism is an “opinion” of no account socially, and those who believe that “the chief end of man is to glorify God and enjoy Him for ever,” and that He is the Supreme Reality upon which all mundane things depend. This is already realized by the more radical secularists on the one side and the Catholic Church on the other: and as our civilized world moves on from one crisis to the next, the terms of man’s choice will become clearer, and the irrepressible conflict may be expected to grow more bitter in one social sphere after another.

CHAPTER II

THE SECULARIST LOOKS AT THE WORLD

Let us take a closer look, now, at the “way of thought” which has replaced the Christian faith of our ancestors. We must remember, of course, that secularism is not a definite, thought-out philosophy except in the case of the few, and that there is considerable variation in the detail of the opinions of those who stand by it. In general, the design here set forth is implied in the actions and attitudes of most men, rather than systematized in their minds.

(1) The “Real World” is conceived as the visible, tangible order in which man lives, as a denizen of the planet Earth: everything beyond this is, more or less, “Gas and gaiters.” Nothing certain can be known about it, so that it can and must be treated as non-existent for the ordinary purposes of practical life. The discussions of “supernatural truth” in which religious controversialists engage are, in effect, discussions about the government of fairyland: their dogmatic statements are no more valid than the fantastic utterances of astrology. And with these go all the assumptions about “sacred authorities” and other sanctities in the sphere of social life.

(2) The universe is a sort of machine, working according to natural laws which are unalterable: these laws govern all life, both physical and psychological. They can be observed and described by human science, and are actually being so observed and described more and more.

(3) The stories of “miraculous” events and revelations in human history are, therefore, “legends”: they can sometimes be explained as due to natural causes, or symbolical interpretations of natural phenomena; but many must be dismissed as purely mythical. Some of these myths may have moral value for children—or for simple-minded people who need their aid for good living and happiness: but the growth of man’s mind to its full stature involves the progressive rejection of “all that nonsense” and the “facing of facts” as revealed by “scientific modern thought.”

(4) The laws which govern ethical conduct are not based in a “Higher Law” either implanted in the minds and hearts of men by God, or positively revealed by Him (e.g., through Moses, or Zoroaster, or Mohammed, or Jesus Christ). They are simply based on the agreement of men to follow certain customs in order to live peacefully together, and develop their higher faculties. The practical standard of ethics is that of “good citizenship,” and good neighbourhood, the observance of the customary code of “decency, kindness and tolerance” in private relationships, and so on.

(5) The idea of “revealed” Truth is commonly felt to be somehow degrading to human reason: “We can work things out for ourselves and save ourselves.” Belief in immortality and justice in the “after-life” is sneered at as “escapism,” and regarded as “anti-social,” on the ground that it leads men to neglect social reform here on earth, and to endure tyranny and injustice in hopes that all will be eventually made right in Heaven. Men should have the courage, we are told, to face the grim truth about personal mortality without this sort of “wishful thinking,” and to work for an earthly consummation of communal happiness through enlightened goodwill. The Christian way of thought is condemned as undemocratic as well as cowardly since it derives human authority and justice from a Divine Despot rather than from the creative powers of ascendant man himself.

(6) Unlike revelation from above, however, revelation from below—through the subconscious animal instincts—is to be taken very seriously. These must not be “repressed,” but their demands met—especially in regard to sex: a “healthy frankness” about the body and its functions is to replace the “unnatural” reticence of the past, caused by religious superstitions concerning “purity.”

(7) Since the authority of Government comes from man alone, the only legitimate form is that in which rules are regarded as delegated by the people to carry out their will and serve their material well-being. No Power “by the grace of God” is to be admitted as real. Hence the power of Church dignitaries is regarded as a spiritual tyranny exercised over superstitious minds: while monarchy, in its traditional form, is held intolerable if the King exercises real political power. It is only to be endured, when politically inactive, as a concession to the irrational “romantic” instinct of the people, and their desire for a symbol of the nation’s unity.

(8) The “churches” are regarded as having real “value” only in virtue of their social function as agencies of humanitarian reform and of education and moral supervision—especially for the young. The criterion by which their activities are measured has nothing to do with sanctity: the “fruits” looked for are those of earthly well-being: and comparison is made between their activities in this respect and those of the State and other human organizations, without regard to the primary religious aims of teaching the Truth of Christ and drawing men to a higher life of grace through His Love.

THE DECLINE OF LIBERAL HUMANISM

At the end of the progress of four centuries from a fully “Christian” order to that of modern secularism the general mind has been stamped with a view of man which sees the animal side of human nature as fundamental, and regards him as “of the earth, earthy” in the strictest and fullest sense. But this descent did not take place all at once: nor is it yet complete. There was a long “middle period” in which the leaders of Western thought dreamed of an “ideal humanism” which would retain a sense of the high value and perfectibility of the human person, while denying the foundation of Christian thought and belief upon which that idea had formerly rested. But once the conception of man as wholly mortal was accepted, it was seen before very long that the short individual life could only have value and significance in relation to the larger, permanent life of the community, and the “human process” of which that community itself was a part.

This meant the doom of the “middle way” of liberal-humanism. The ideas of “human happiness” and “human well-being” could only be considered realistically in relation to a pattern of life planned by men for masses of men: the individual being a mere temporary “nexus” of social relationships. Secular intellectual interest shifted, therefore, from humanist philosophy and rational ethics to politics and social planning. The “new order”—the secularist substitute for “salvation”—must be set up by external organized action: the applied scientists and social technicians—not the pure scientific inquirers after truth—became the “significant men” of the new age to whom the communities of the world must look for the enhancement of human power and the new designs for well-being—even for the making of a new race by eugenic breeding and educational “conditioning.” Culture was no longer the perfection of the individual understanding, wisdom and sense of beauty, but the training and tailoring of the individual “social cell” for social purposes, so that he would “fit in” with the new organized pattern of communal living. For the new secularists, moral virtue and “social usefulness” are precisely equivalent. The “good” man is the active, trained collaborator in the tasks of the social hive, obedient to the directives of those who speak in the people’s name, living smoothly and easily with his fellowmen so as to avoid every kind of social friction. He is, in fact, the perfect “yes-man” conforming to the pattern of the hive in thought, word and deed.

TOWARDS “INSECTIFICATION”

In a word, in “emancipating” man from Divine Authority, modern secularism has begun a process towards what has been well called the “insectification” of the human community—the total absorption of the life of the person in the life and activities of the hive within which alone it can have “meaning.” “Modern thought” moves already in the direction of giving the State full control of its members’ bodies and minds.

First, the “unfit” are to be eliminated by scientific eugenics—including marriages “planned” under medical supervision, enforced sterilization or contraception in certain cases, and “euthanasia”—so-called ‘mercy killing’—for the hopelessly sick, insane or deformed.

Secondly, the public communal authority of the State is to be substituted gradually for the family in the moulding of citizens. Little ones are to be cared for in crèches; the young are to be fed and receive medical attention at school; and their educational “conditioning” is to be handed over to vocational experts, who will decide upon their training and placing according to the requirements of planned social construction.

Finally,

“humane” social pressure is to be used to eliminate recalcitrant groups and organizations from the field of culture, and to oblige all to submit to the planned secular pattern of thought and life.

Once again, let me emphasize that I am describing the trend of secularist “modern thought,” rather than setting forth a doctrine accepted by secularist-minded people generally in Australia at the present time. Among these, there are still wide differences as to what their way of thought implies, and most still cling to the illogical outlook of liberal humanism. But the process of “materialization” goes on apace, and is very widespread: and a vivid sense of non-material truth and sanctity as affecting the whole life of man and the community is already comparatively rare, even among Christians.

CHAPTER III

THE PHENOMENON OF DISINTEGRATION

The ordinary modern man—whether nominally infidel or “Christian” or even Catholic—is “disintegrated” in the sense that he is found to be holding simultaneously opinions which are logically incompatible with one another. In the case of the Christian, this means that his thought is “dashed” with materialism, national idolatry and national blood feuds, the politics of class hate and envy, false secular “humanism” and so on. On the other hand, the thought of the actual materialist is “dashed” with all kinds of remnants of Christian idealism and “personalism” which have no proper place in the materialistic system of thought at all. People who deny all real value to individual life and personality except in relation to the “social mass” are nevertheless shocked, sometimes even more than Christians, at the infliction of indignities and cruelties upon their fellow-men, or the ruthless “social engineering,” “conditioning” and liquidation carried out by the Nazis or Communists, who accept the full consequences of their philosophy of man and the universe. This mingling of a secularized Christianity with a secularism tinged with Christian sentiment has the effect of producing a general common level of social conduct and standards, such as prevails in communities such as our own at the present time. It tends, also, to foster the illusion of the insignificance of religious thought and belief in relation to practical conduct.

The materialist’s outlook logically leads to the view that the word “should” has no true meaning, since a man’s conduct is determined by the social pattern in which he finds himself, together with his physical structure and the laws which govern his psychological life. Yet he usually continues to talk and act as if he, and he and other men were morally responsible beings: and his designs for secular living—the very idea that such living can be consciously designed—are still based on that assumption. He is horrified, as I have noted, at social cruelty and injustice; on the contrary, he approves humanity, virtue, heroism and zeal for the cause of liberty.

EXHAUSTING MORAL CAPITAL

It should hardly be necessary to point out the danger of the prevalence of this state of mind. The man who practises virtue only because of his instinctive habitual attachment to values which in terms of his philosophy he must hold to be irrational has a moral foundation for his life which is essentially unstable. A society of such men is living on its moral capital without replacing it from one generation to another. Faith and the rational morality based on theism no longer has a firm hold over the desires of rulers and peoples: their concentration on material achievement and wealth and power means that their control of nature through applied science becomes increased, while they also become progressively less fit to exercise such control. That is why we find that natural science, in our own secularist age, is prodigal of promises for human betterment which remain largely unfulfilled: while its development for purposes of destruction have reached sinister heights under the guidance of the “will-to-power.” That is why the highly-developed techniques of large-scale organization which we have mastered are used so much to create engines of oppression and falsehood and human de-formation of which the devilish imaginations of our ancestors never dreamed.

Secularism, then, would appear to be essentially a destructive and parasitic way of thought and life, since it can only survive by making use of values which are constantly eroded by its own action. Having noticed this feature—reflected in the instability and inconsistency of individual lives, and the growth of destructive forces in the social sphere, let us look more closely at certain common secularist assumptions, and see how far they are coherent from the standpoint of the common-sense idea that human thought has some relation to real life.

CHAPTER IV

THE SUICIDE OF THOUGHT

We will begin with a common “line” set forth by secularist “modern minds” at the present day. “I don’t” they will say “maintain the position that everything can be explained in terms of matter and energy, because I don’t know enough for that. But I intend to continue trying to explain everything in this way until I can find something for which other assumptions are required.”

Now that sounds a fair enough proposition: so let us offer one fundamental problem for our secularist to explain in terms of matter and energy if he possibly can: namely, the fact that he is thinking. He will answer, no doubt, that the study of the mind itself is by no means excluded from the world view of modern secular science: and point to the results of psychological research, the work of Freud, Jung and others, in order to show that the process of thought is increasingly being explained in terms of matter and energy. Actually, what the new psychologists are concerned with is the results of mind: they classify the way people behave, giving an exterior view of their mental life: and the results they have attained by this research are very valuable indeed.

It would not, however, be of any value at all if the minds of those engaged in the research were no more than a mass of “complexes” produced by a material process. If we argue (with the Freudian) that “thoughts” are merely due to a process of this sort: or (with the Marxist) that they are due to “class conditioning” we have to make an exception of the particular thought-process we are using in our argument.

TRUE OR FALSE?

The dilemma may be expressed more simply in this way. We have two propositions, based on two arrangements of thoughts, which, on materialist principles, are reducible to terms of matter and energy. One is “The moon is made of green cheese, and is eaten slowly by the sky-giant every month.” The other is “The moon is a satellite attached to our planet earth, and the monthly ‘phases’ we observe are caused by the variation of its position in relation to the earth and the sun.” How is it that one of these propositions comes to be qualified as objectively “False” and the other as “True,” if they are no more than different arrangements of “matter and energy,” in the human thinking organ? What is the basis of this valuation, and how can it have any meaning? And if it has no meaning, how can we reach any conclusion about life or reality by any process of thinking whatever?

This argument has been set forth in brief by Professor J. B. S. Haldane—himself, strangely enough, a zealous Marxian—who says, “If any mental processes are determined wholly {italics mine} by the motions of atoms in my brain, I have no reason to suppose my beliefs are true . . . and hence, I have no reason for supposing my brain to be composed of atoms.”

To sum up, materialistic logic has no explanation of the function of the human mind as a truth-finding organ: a function which must be assumed, in some fashion, in order to relate thought to objective reality. If the psychologists cannot tell us truth, they can’t tell us the truth about how our minds work! All knowledge and therefore all science, has become impossible: all language unmeaning.

A way of thought which is reduced to this idiotic incoherence in its attempt to describe the nature of thought itself, and which finds it necessary to doubt or deny the freewill which is assumed as a fact in every human relationship of our lives, can only be described as a road to the suicide of thought. This suicide, in fact, is the inevitable consequence of the view that man’s thought and action is simply part of the process of nature, determined in the same way as other physical phenomena.

THE RATIONAL APPROACH TO FAITH

The difficulties involved in accepting a non-materialistic philosophy or faith are real and serious: but, in tackling them, we are not brought to the same kind of impasse. The method of argument which leads to such conclusions as God’s existence, the possibility of Divine Revelation, and the probability of the survival of the human soul after the death of the body, is a rigorously rational one: and where there are problems—such as those of evil and pain—they are faced up to by the great philosophers of Christian Theism in an honest and realistic fashion, even though their conclusions remain tentative and imperfect. The trouble is not that the secularist “modern man” cannot find an answer to the questions he asks: but that he either does not ask the questions at all, or refuses, like Pilate, to “stay for an answer,” on the dogmatic assumption that there is none of any worth to be given. He will say, “I don’t know: no one can know: and, anyhow, it doesn’t signify.”

The first word (or sentence) is, no doubt, true: the second he has not tested: the third is both false and foolish—since it ought to be clear that enormous practical consequences are involved in the great questions about what man is and to what destiny the human race is moving, individually and collectively.

CHAPTER V

THE REVOLT AGAINST TRUTH

The startling truth about the world in which we live is that most of those who guide its thinking are not really interested in objective truth at all. The rebellion against religious “dogma” is, in fact, a far more profound revolt than most of us realize. It is not—as its maintainers seriously and sincerely contend—simply an impulse to slough off inessential and “unreal” ideas which have cribbed, cabined and confined the rational mind. Rather, it is a fundamental revolt against the laws of man’s being—a refusal to accept objective truth. If we look at the points of our faith most generally attacked by modern thinkers, it will be realized that they are those which embody the basic truths about man’s position in the universe and real nature.

Thus, the Divinity of Christ is rejected as a incomprehensible fantasy: and we substitute the myth of a “higher human” raised by his own power and acquired social virtues to a sort of earthly divinity. The initiative in redemption is transferred from God to man: man replaces God as the focus of adoration. The process from material being to rationality, from rationality to the new higher humanity, is a process which takes place in defiance of all the laws of thought perceived by reason—it involves adding two and two to make five at each stage. But it is pleasing to man’s self-assertion: it makes him a master, a self-creator—not a created being saved by the descending love of his Maker. The whole concept of secularist “progress,” in fact, is a mass of “wishful thinking”: the materialization of the idea of “salvation” has turned it into an erection of nonsense built on pride.

Again, denial of eternal punishment is represented as a humane reaction to the primitive conception of a vindictive Divinity—those indignant about the doctrine of hell almost invariably conceive it in crude and childish imaginative terms, and refuse to trouble themselves to examine the careful statements of Christian philosophers and theologians. In reality, at the back of it there lies something very different: a refusal to accept the principle of retribution which runs through actual life. Once again, the secularist will not have the nature of the universe, in which inexorable consequences result from the misuse of free-will. “Don’t worry: it won’t really happen” “It does not really matter.” This is the other facet of the rejection of religious dogma to the impulse to self-assertion. The serpent, you may remember, told our first parents that they would not die, by their disobedience, but would become as gods.

THE HABIT OF SELF-DECEPTION

Of course, our attitude does not affect the truths we are running away from: but they do not seem so near and so menacing if we can manage to pretend that they are not there. This gesture of “non-recognition,” therefore, has become a characteristic feature of our world even in lesser matters than those of the foundations of life and thought. We have a powerful school of politicians and “intellectuals” who hold that the way to peace is to pretend that the aggressor-powers are sincere in their desire for an accommodation; that they do not hold by their Marxist principles, but by others less uncomfortable in their implications: that they are not really guilty of the crimes against religion and humanity of which overwhelming evidence exists: or that those crimes are not related as they really are to the fundamental aims and beliefs of those who have ordered them. They invent new smooth names to describe ancient evils, and deem that they have thereby exorcised them: they propose solutions to bitter, menacing problems by doing the comfortable thing and “wishing upon a star.” Communism is to be “cured” by social well-being without arming to repel the Red totalitarian power-machine: Asia is to be reconciled without any real concessions to inter-racial justice . . . and so the dream-story goes on.

SCIENCE AND THE NEW THOUGHT

Even the Laws of Science—hitherto assumed to be the immutable and authoritative ultimate basis of existence in our secularist world, as those of faith were in Christian ages—are no longer immune from the subjective erosion which has undermined the idea of “Truth” in other spheres. Thus in a Scientific Charter of Scientific Principles, drawn up during the recent Second World War, by the British Association we find the statement: “That the basic principles of science rely on independence combined with co-operation, and are influenced by the progressive needs of humanity.” A letter of 13 October 1941 to the British Daily Telegraph draws attention to the implications of this oracle. “Men apparently do not rely on the basic principles of science, but the basic principles rely on man! The law of gravitation, the principle of the conservation of energy, the theory of relativity, depend for their validity on the proceedings of men, and are influenced by their progressive needs. Newton’s apple would have acted quite differently if men had been less independent and co-operative, or if their progressive needs had been different!”

So, the “truth of the senses” which secularism alone admits, faces the denouement of its own dethronement. Scientific propositions themselves are mere “conventions,” expedient for the operation of this or that individual or group. Scientists are even found contending that they are not concerned with reality, but formulate their schemes “as if they corresponded with reality.” But if science is not concerned with reality, what is it concerned with? And if its sages talk in these terms, what can we expect of political and social ideologues except a “truth” which is conceived purely in terms of temporary expediency; a criterion according to which Hitler’s and Stalin’s dogmas have precisely the same validity as those of the civilized democratic world! And, with the downfall of truth, man tumbles from the lofty pedestal upon which he was set by liberal-secularism as a “seeker after truth” to the level of an animal intent on the exaltation of his greed, his appetites and his egoism by means of “rationalizations” of various kinds.

CHAPTER VI

THE MORAL CHALLENGE TO MEN OF FAITH

One of the commonest answers of the secularist to the Christian who speaks to him of the merits of his faith is, “If the difference between your way of life and mine is as great as you claim, why is it that Christians are in practice so difficult to distinguish from us pagans in the fashion of their actual behaviour?” He will go on to cite examples of Catholic drunkards and lechers, Catholics who are uncharitable and grossly dishonest, cruel and narrow-minded . . . and so on.

I have already answered this challenge in part by pointing out that our world is not composed of all-out Catholics living in the light of Catholic truth, and all-out secularists living in accordance with their own philosophy, but of Catholics infected by the values of the secularist world around them, and secularists who have inherited Christian habits of thought which raise their conduct above the level of their philosophy. Hence the tendency towards a certain common level of practical standards.

The reply, however, is not one which we Christians can accept as in any way satisfactory in answer to the challenge regarding our own inadequacy. The man who makes it is, often enough, really in quest of truth: and he is puzzled by the paradox of the elevation of Catholic principles and beliefs, and the contrasting insufficiency of the people who have received the new “Life of Faith” but show small sign of having been transformed by it, or by the torrents of grace to which they have access through the Sacraments.

The Christian of today, living in the world, carries a grave responsibility: for, willy-nilly, he stands for those who do not share his faith as representing the Church of God in action. “What has it done for you, anyhow?”

We may as well begin by admitting, with shame, that both as a community and individually we have failed lamentably to “Come up to scratch.” Don’t let us minimize a truth which is very patent to our critics, but rather make it clear that we realize it a good deal more fully than they can possibly do. Indeed, it belongs to our position that we should see our defects better than any outsiders can: and the degree to which we do so is actually the measure of our progress in the spiritual life. It is not without significance that St. Francis of Assisi, whose life was, in the opinion of some, more completely Christ-like than any in Christian history, should have cried out upon himself constantly as utterly degraded: “the chief of sinners.” The ordinary Christian lives on an immeasurably lower level, yet he operates in the same medium: and is capable, therefore, of understanding that he is very far from what he ought to be.

We do not claim to be better as individuals than very many non-believers: but we do claim that the way is open to us, through Divine grace, to a level of goodness, even sanctity, to which those without the life of faith cannot aspire. We have been privileged to see further into the meaning of life: the scope of what we mean by good and evil has been infinitely extended for us, and with this extension of our understanding an immeasurable source of strength has been offered to us.

Through faith we see truth: through grace we can act upon it, by responding to the Divine Gift offered to us: but neither faith nor grace can make the Christian life an easy one. It is a “way of the Cross,” and neither Christ nor His disciples have ever pretended that it was anything else. No mechanical transformation, no automatic moral regeneration is effected by faith. If we assent in a merely nominal and external fashion to the truths of religion, they will not be sufficient to transform our lives: if our reception of the Sacraments is automatic and superficial, we are failing to make use of the graces given to us . The force and dynamism of the gift is not affected: but our souls are deprived of the full benefit inherent in it.

THE HALF-CHRISTIAN

That is the trouble with most “ordinary Catholics.” Their faith is only half-alive: and it is because it lacks vitality that they become infected with secularism in their practical life, as an ill-nourished child “picks up” germs. That there should be so many “so-called Christians” who fail to appreciate and live by their faith may be a “cause of scandal” to secularist inquirers: but it is explained by the general tendency of human nature to turn away from the “hard and rare” in every field of activity. All higher religions and philosophies have been confronted with the same problem: in proportion to their demands has been the natural man’s reaction to them. But no other religion makes so complete and “totalitarian” a demand on the whole nature of man as Christianity—which presents him with a goal to which his unaided efforts are incapable of attaining. This being the case, there is no ground for surprise that man being man, and in a fallen world, so few Christians do attain perfection, and “Christian civilization” has always been a patchy business, even in days when the Church’s beliefs and standards were almost universally accepted in Europe, at least officially.

We Catholic Christians cannot avoid a large part of responsibility for the process which, beginning with the revolt of the Renaissance and Reformation eras, has ended in the nightmare of secularist nihilism in which our modern Western world now groans and tosses unrestfully. What are we going to do about it?

SHOWING THE FLAG

To begin with, it is necessary for the ordinary lay Christian to lay hold on the “Life of Faith” with something of the new zeal of converts in the ancient world of paganism, and in the mission-fields of our own day. He must do his utmost to grasp something of the pattern of Christian thought and make it his own, so that all the corners of his personal life and values may be “Christianized.” He must not be content to carry the faith around in a bag as a sort of jigsaw puzzle of dogmas and cultural traditions which he has inherited: but he must open the bag, put the picture together and look at it himself, before showing it to others.

In a world of disinterested and confused thinking, men who “know their own minds” and have a clear-cut philosophy of life by which they actually live are certain to create an impression if they show their flag so that others can see it, and read the image and superscription upon it. That is one reason for the impressive success of the Communists—though there are others far less creditable to them. But while Catholics in their public lives and social relations are concerned simply to see how far they can go along with this or that secular movement, or approve this or that secular initiative; while the effect of their faith appears in nothing but a certain number of negations and criticisms concerning the details of secular organizations and policies; while they keep Christ and the Cross, and the Law of God, out of sight as though they were a sort of secret or even something a little indelicate, the destructive process of the secular system will not be reversed in our favour: there will be no return of our world to the sanities of Christian thought and the Christian order.

THE NEED FOR HOLINESS

The temptation of the “good Christian” today is to despair of the salvation of a society which is “nonconducting” to the Christian current. He withdraws into his shell, shrinking from anticipated rebuffs. He “hides his light under a bushel” and is content to remain unnoticed and unmolested. Even, however, if he does all that in him lies, he finds his action “insulated” by the character of his environment. He must choose between an inertia which belies his whole position, or an activity which is alien and distasteful to the social group in which he moves.

If he chooses activity, however—as he must—there is still another danger to be avoided: that of accepting the secularist standard which regards external visible action as the real action. The essential activity of the Christian is spiritual: holiness as distinct from social action—being as the most potent kind of doing. And the more we find our world idolizing external energy, force and “output,” the more we ourselves need to cultivate contemplation, prayer, the “Life of the Spirit.” It is only in proportion as it is a flowering of this interior life that our visible action can be effective against the hostile “principalities and powers” which lie behind the secularist revolt against God: it is only if our lamps are filled with the sacred oil of Divine love that they can “shine before men” in the sort of personal service which wins souls and transforms societies.

THE SIGN OF CONTRADICTION

But if hostile reaction is the chief effect of mere outward Christian action taken against the general secular opinion, it is not to be supposed that a spiritual contradiction will be more endurable to those who deny or ignore spiritual Reality. The contrary is the case. External opposition can be countered by methods which the secular world understands very well indeed: and it arouses correspondingly less fear among those who command the machinery of power and propaganda. It is precisely when it becomes apparent that the Catholic community really “lives by the spirit” and accepts its standards of value as the only real ones, that it provokes the deepest opposition: because this challenges the entire structure of the secularism which is today’s orthodoxy.

The easygoing, low-tension quality of both Faith and the reaction to it has concealed from most observers in Australia the extent of the divergence between the believer and non-believer. But if there were to be an awakening: if Catholicism were to come alive, not as a “social action” or political pressure movement, but as a spiritual force permeating the community, we should find a corresponding strong anti-religious movement. We have to reckon with a positive non-religious standard of value held—however illogically—by many people in this country, varying from “anti-God” bigotry to cultivated “social-humanism”: but wherever this standard is confronted with positive, dynamic Faith, it reacts with violence, as against a visible enemy. The position of the rebel heretic—the Voltaire or Diderot—challenging an officially Christian society is often recalled today by secularists with sympathy and admiration: but, it is the opposite situation which now confronts us increasingly everywhere—involving the much older question of the Christian’s position as citizen of a non-Christian state.

We usually think of this problem as being peculiar to the “totalitarian” States—Nazi or Communist where it has appeared in an obvious and drastic form. But it concerns this country also, since in Australia Christians are in a minority in a community whose real standards, ideals and principles of action are based on a different principle from theirs. Our conception of our country’s well-being will not be that of most of them if it is based on Christian concepts: the good we want for her is not what they conceive as “the good.”

In time of crisis such differences of underlying standards tend to become intensified. The Christian, in so far as he is true to his own values, becomes to some extent suspect, as in but not of the community. Thus it was with the first Christians. They obeyed Caesar in all lawful things—they did not even resist active persecution: yet they were held to be dangerous, because they testified by their conduct and way of life the strength of their “other-worldly” loyalty. The diluted Christo-secularist is not feared; he is innocuous and “sterilized” by his conformity to the world. It is the “total” Christian, the apostle, who is a permanent challenge to the world’s Caesars, whether they are styled emperors, or leaders, or “Sovereign People’s Representatives.”

VICTORY THROUGH THE CROSS

The life of faith must be an apostolate, or it will perish: and its very nature makes it a sign of contradiction in relation to secularism. It requires that we give all we have, ourselves, our lives, in the service of Christ our Lord. This is costly: but there is no cheap and easy substitute. The Christian in our secularist world must choose between his faith and that world’s “works and pomps.” He cannot serve two masters—or combine “the best of both worlds” by some kind of tour de force. We have to save our world, it seems, if we are to save ourselves: but we have to begin by Christianizing ourselves. And we must face up to the fact that those who do the work of Christ must be prepared to pay the price He paid for victory. We, too, must be lifted up on the Cross, so that the peoples of the world may see and understand, and its valleys of dry bones may be filled with the hosts of a new Christendom, raised out of their death by the power of the renewing Spirit.

* * * * * * *

Moral Problems In Fashion Design

AN ADDRESS OF POPE PIUS XII TO A CONGRESS OFTHE “LATIN UNION OF HIGH FASHION” DI GRAN CUORE NOVEMBER 8, 1957

INDEX

BELOVED sons and daughters, promoters and associates of the “Latin Union of High Fashion,” We heartily extend to you Our paternal welcome.

You have seen fit to come here to give Us testimony of your filial devotion and, at the same time, to seek heaven’s favor on your Union. >From its very inception you placed it under the auspices of Him Whose glory must be the end of every human activity, even of those that are apparently profane, according to the precept of the Apostle of the Gentiles: “Whether you eat or drink, or do anything else, do all for the glory of God” (1 Cor. 10, 31).

A DELICATE AND COMPLEX PROBLEM

You propose to examine from the Christian point of view and with Christian intent a problem which is as delicate as it is complex. Its moral aspects cannot be ignored. It is a constant object of attention and anxiety for those whose task it is, by reason of their duties in the family, in society, and in the Church, to preserve souls from the snares of corruption and to protect the whole community from moral decadence: the problem of fashions, especially women’s fashions.

It is right and proper that your generous intentions should receive Our gratitude and that of the Church, and that your Union, born of and inspired by a sound religious and civic sense, should receive Our fervent wishes for the achievement, through the enlightened self-discipline of fashion designers, of the twofold aim expressed in your statutes: to improve the moral condition of this important sector of public life, and to help raise fashions to the level of an instrument and expression of well-intentioned civility.

Since We wish to encourage such a praiseworthy enterprise, We have willingly consented to your request that We set out Our thoughts to you, particularly on the proper formulation of the problem and, most important of all, its moral aspects. We shall also make some practical suggestions which may guarantee to the Union a well-accepted authority in this highly controversial field.

I

GENERAL ASPECTS OF FASHIONS

Following that counsel of ancient wisdom which finds in the purposes of things both the ultimate criterion for every theoretical evaluation and the certainty of moral principles, it will be useful to recall those aims which man has always established for himself where his clothing is concerned.

THREE REASONS FOR CLOTHING

Without doubt he obeys the familiar requirements of hygiene, decency, and adornment. These are three necessities so deeply rooted in nature that they cannot be disregarded or contradicted without provoking hostility and prejudice. They are as necessary today as they were yesterday; they are found among almost every people; they can be seen at every stage of the wide scale in which the natural necessity of clothing is historically and ethnologically manifested.

It is important to note the strict and close interdependence that binds these three necessities, despite the fact that they derive from three different sources. The first is derived from man’s physical nature; the second from his spiritual nature; the third from his psychological and artistic nature.

. . . HYGIENE

The hygienic requirements of clothing concern mostly the climate, its variations, and other external factors, as

[1] Reported in Osservatore Romano, November 9, 1957. Italian text. Translation based in part on one released by N.C.W.C. News Service. possible causes of discomfort or illness. It follows from the above-mentioned interdependence that hygienic reasons—or, rather, pretexts-cannot serve to justify a deplorable license, especially in public, aside from exceptional cases of proven necessity. But even in these cases, every well-bred soul would be unable to avoid the distress of an involuntary feeling of confusion, outwardly expressed by natural blushing.

In the same way, a manner of dressing which is harmful to health -and there are no few examples of this in the history of style-cannot be considered legitimate on the pretext of beauty. On the other hand, the common rules of decency must give way to the needs of a medical cure which, although it may seem to violate them, actually respects them when all due moral precautions are employed.

. . . DECENCY

Equally obvious, as the origin and purpose of clothing, is the natural requirement of decency, understood either in the wider sense, which includes proper consideration for the sensitivity of others to objects that are unsightly, or, above all, as a defense of moral honesty and a shield against disordered sensuality.

The strange opinion which attributes the sense of modesty to one type of education or another, and even considers modesty a conceptual deformation of innocent reality, a false product of civilization, a stimulus to dishonesty, and source of hypocrisy, is not supported by any valid reason. On the contrary, it finds explicit condemnation in the resulting repugnance with which they are viewed who dare to adopt this point of view as a way of life. Thus the soundness of common sense, manifest in universal usage, is confirmed.

Natural decency in its strictly moral sense, whatever its origin may be, is founded on the innate and more or less conscious tendency of every person to defend his personal physical good from the indiscriminate desires of others so that he may reserve it, with prudent choice of circumstances, to those wise purposes of the Creator which He Himself has placed under the protective cover of chastity and modesty.

This second virtue, modesty -the very word “modesty” comes from modus, a measure or limit-probably better expresses the function of governing and dominating the passions, especially sensual passions. It is the natural bulwark of chastity. It is its effective rampart, because it moderates acts closely connected with the very object of chastity.

Modesty makes man hear its warning, like a forward sentinel, from the moment he acquires the use of reason, even before he learns the full meaning and purpose of chastity. It accompanies him throughout his entire life and demands that certain acts, which are good in themselves because they are divinely established, should be protected by a discreet veil of shadow and the reserve of silence, in order to confer on them the respect owed the dignity of their great purpose. It is therefore just that modesty, as the depository of such precious possessions, should claim for itself an authority prevailing over every other tendency and every caprice, and should preside over the determination of fashions in clothing.

. . . AND ADORNMENT

And here we arrive at the third purpose of clothing, from which fashions draw their origin more directly, and which responds to the innate need, more greatly felt by woman, to enhance the beauty and dignity of the person with the same means that are suitable to satisfy the other two purposes.

In order to avoid restricting the scope of this third requirement to mere physical beauty, and, even more, to avoid associating fashion with lust for seduction as its first and only reason, the term adornment is preferable to beautification.

T his penchant for the adornment of one’s own person clearly derives from nature, and is therefore legitimate. Over and above the function of clothing which hides physical imperfections, youth asks for clothing which has an attractiveness and splendor that sing the happy themes of the spring of life, and which facilitates, in harmony with the rules of modesty, the psychological prerequisites necessary for the formation of new families. At the same time, those of mature age seek to obtain from appropriate clothing an aura of dignity, seriousness, and serene happiness.

In those cases in which the aim is to enhance the moral beauty of the person the style of the clothes will be such as almost to eclipse physical beauty in the austere shadow of concealment, to distract the attention of the senses, and concentrate reflection on the spirit.

THE LANGUAGE OF CLOTHING

Considered under this wider aspect, clothing has its own multiform and efficacious language. At times it is a spontaneous and faithful interpretation of sentiments and habits; at other times it is conventional, affected, and therefore hardly sincere.

Clothing expresses joy and sorrow, authority and power, pride and simplicity, wealth and poverty, the sacred and the profane. The specific form of this expression depends on the traditions and the culture of a particular people; it changes all the more slowly as the institutions, characters, and sentiments that the styles interpret are the more stable.

THE NATURE OF “FASHION”

Fashion-an ancient art of uncertain origins, which is made complex by the psychological and social factors it involves-applies itself expressly to the enhancement of physical beauty. At present, fashion has achieved an indisputable importance in public life, whether as an aesthetic expression of customs, or as an interpretation of public demand and a focal point of substantial economic interests.

A profound observation of the phenomena of fashions will reveal that they are not only extravagant in their form, but are also the meeting point of such different psychological and moral factors as taste for beauty, thirst for novelty, affirmation of the personality, intolerance of monotony, no less than luxury, ambition and vanity.

Fashion is actually elegance, conditioned, however, by constant change in such a way that its own instability confers a distinctive mark upon it. The reason for the constant change of fashions, which has now become seasonal- changes which are slower in basic lines, but extremely rapid in secondary variations-seems to be a desire to surpass the past. It is facilitated by the frantic character of the present era, which has a tremendous capacity for burning up in a short time all that is meant to satisfy the fantasy and the senses.

It is understandable that new generations intent upon their own future -a different and better dream than that of their fathers-should feel the need to detach themselves from those forms, not only of clothing but also of objects and ornaments, which most obviously recall a way of life that they wish to surpass. But the extreme instability of presentday styles is determined above all by the will of its artificers and guides, who have at their disposal such means, unknown in the past, as an enormous and varied textile production, the inventive fertility of fashion designers, and easy means of “launching” fashions in the press, movies, television, exhibits, and fashion shows.

The rapidity of change is further stimulated by a kind of silent competition, not really new, between the “elite” who wish to assert their own personality with original forms of clothing, and the public who immediately convert them to their own use with more or less good imitations. Nor can one overlook another subtle and decadent reason, namely, the effort of those “stylists” who play on the factor of seduction in order to insure the success of their “creations,” being well aware of the effect that constantly repeated surprise and novelty create.

THE ECONOMICS OF FASHION

It is another characteristic of today’s fashions that, although they remain principally an aesthetic fact, they have also become an economic element of great proportions. The few established fashion-shops which once dictated undisputed rules of elegance from this or that metropolis to the world of European culture have now been replaced by a number of financially powerful organizations which, while they supply the demand for clothing, also form popular tastes and constantly work to promote increasing demands for their own market.

The reasons for this transformation are to be found, first of all, in the socalled “democratization” of fashion through which an increasing number of individuals fall under the spell of elegance and, secondly, in technical progress which makes it possible to turn out mass-produced styles that would otherwise be expensive but have now become easy to acquire on the socalled “ready-made” market.

Thus was the world of fashion born, a world which includes artists and craftsmen, manufacturers and merchants, publishers and critics, as well as an entire class of humble workers who draw their income from fashions.

THE FASHION-DESIGNER

Although the economic factor is the driving force of this activity, its soul is always the “stylist,” the person who, through a clever choice of materials, colors, cut, line, and accessory ornaments, gives life to a new and expressive style that pleases the public. It is needless to list the difficulties of this art, the fruit of genius and skill and, even more, of a sensitivity to the taste of the moment.

A style destined for certain success acquires the importance of an invention. It is surrounded by secrecy while waiting to be “launched.” Once on the market, it brings in high prices, while the information media give it wide publicity almost as though it were an event of national importance.

The influence of fashion-designers is so strong that the textile industry lets its production be guided by them, both in quantity and in quality. Their social influence is equally great in interpreting public customs, for if fashions have been the external expression of the usages of people in the past, today they have become ever more so-from the time when this phenomenon, fashions, began to be the result of reflection and study.

“HIGH FASHION”

But the formation of the tastes and preferences of the people and the guidance of society toward serious or decadent habits does not depend on the fashion designers alone. It depends also on the whole organized complexus of the fashion industry, especially upon production houses and critics in that more refined sector which finds its clients in the upper social classes and takes the name of “high fashion,” as if to designate the source of the currents that people will later follow almost blindly, under what appears to be some magic compulsion.

Now, since so many important values are involved in and sometimes endangered by styles, as We have rapidly outlined, it seems providential that persons should enter upon the scene who have received a technical and Christian preparation and want to help free styles from those tendencies that are not commendable.

These are persons who see in styles the art of knowing how to dress, whose aim is certainly, though only partially, to enhance the beauty of the body, but with such moderation that the body, the masterpiece of divine creation, will not be obscured but, on the contrary, in the words of the Prince of the Apostles,will be exalted “in the imperishableness of a quiet and gentle spirit, which is of great price in the sight of God” (I Peter 3, 4).

II

THE MORAL PROBLEM OF FASHION AND ITS SOLUTIONS

The problem of fashion consists in the harmonious reconciliation of a person’s exterior ornamentation with the interior of a “quiet and modest spirit.”

However, some people ask themselves if there really is a moral problem in such an exterior, contingent, and relative fact as fashion. And, granted that there is, they ask in what terms this problem is to be set forth and according to what principles it must be solved.

This is not the place to protest at length against the insistent attempts of many contemporaries to separate the exterior activities of man from the moral realm as if the two belonged to different universes, as if man himself were not the subject and the object of the moral realm and, therefore, responsible before the Sovereign Regulator of all things.

It is quite true that styles, like art, science, politics, and other so-called profane activities, follow their own rules to attain the immediate ends for which they are intended. However, their subject is invariably man who cannot prescind from directing these activities to his ultimate and supreme end.

There exists, then, the moral problem of styles, not only insofar as they concern a generically human activity, but more specifically insofar as this activity is carried out in a field common to, or at least very close to evident moral values. The problem is especially great insofar as the aims of styles-aims that are good in themselves-are likely to be twisted by the wicked tendencies of a human nature which is fallen through original sin, and thus fashions can be changed into occasions of sin and scandal.

ECCLESIASTICAL SEVERITY

This inclination of a corrupt nature to abuse fashions has frequently led ecclesiastical tradition to treat fashions with suspicion and severe judgment, as expressed with intense firmness by notable sacred speakers and by zealous missionaries, even to the point of “burning vain objects” which, according to the usages and austerity of those times, was esteemed as effective eloquence by the people.

From these manifestations of severity, which basically showed the maternal concern of the Church for the welfare of souls and the moral values of civilization, one cannot argue, however, that Christianity exacts almost a renunciation of respect and care for the physical person and its external decorum. Whoever would draw this conclusion would be forgetting what the Apostle of the Gentiles wrote: “In like manner I wish women to be decently dressed, adorning themselves with modesty and dignity” (I Tim., 2, 9).

THE CHURCH’S POSITIVE ATTITUDE

The Church, on the contrary, does not censure or condemn styles when they are meant for the proper decorum and ornamentation of the body, but she never fails to warn the faithful against being easily led astray by them.

This positive attitude of the Church derives from reasons far higher than the mere aesthetic or hedonistic considerations which have been assumed by a renewed paganism. The Church knows and teaches that the human body, which is God’s masterpiece in the visible world, and which has been placed at the service of the soul, was elevated by the Divine Redeemer to the rank of a temple and an instrument of the Holy Spirit, and as such must be respected. The body’s beauty must therefore not be exalted as an end in itself, much less in such guise as will defile the dignity it has been endowed with.

MORAL EVALUATION OF ATTIRE

Speaking in concrete terms, it cannot be denied that along with seemly styles there are also immodest fashions that create confusion in well-ordered minds and can even be an incentive to evil. It is always difficult to indicate with universal norms the border-line between seemliness and shamelessness because the moral evaluation of attire depends on many factors. However, the so-called relativity of fashions with respect to times, places, persons, and education is not a valid reason to renounce a priori a moral judgment on this or that fashion which, for the time being, violates the limits of normal decency.

The sense of decency, almost without being consulted on the matter, gives immediate warning as to where immodesty and seduction, idolatry of matter and luxury, or only frivolity, are concealed. And if the artificers of shameless fashions are skilled in the trafficking of perversion, mixing it into an ensemble of aesthetic elements that are good in themselves, human sensuality is unfortunately even more skillful in discovering it and is ready to fall under its spell.

Here as elsewhere, greater sensitivity to this warning against the snares of evil, far from being grounds for criticizing those who possess it, as though it were a sign of interior depravity, is actually a mark of an upright soul and of watchfulness over the passions.

Yet, no matter how broad and changeable the relative morals of styles may be, there is always an absolute norm to be kept after having heard the admonition of conscience warning against approaching danger: style must never be a proximate occasion of sin.

THE ELEMENT OF INTENT

Among the objective elements that concur to make an immodest style there is, first and foremost, the evil intention of its makers. Where these seek to create unchaste ideas and sensations through their fashions, there is present a technique of disguised malice. They know, among other things, that boldness in such matters cannot be pushed beyond certain limits, but they also know that the desired effect is close to these limits, and that a clever combination of serious and artistic elements with others that are less worthy is highly suited to capturing the fancy and the senses. For they realize that a fashion thus devised will be acceptable to a client who seeks such an effect, but will not compromise, at least in their opinion, the good name of upright clients.

Every restoration of decency to style must, therefore, begin with the intention of those who design and those who wear. In both there must be an awakening of the conscience as to their responsibility for the tragic consequences that could result from clothing which is overly bold, especially if it is worn in public.

IMMODESTY

More basically, the immorality of some styles depends in great part on excesses either of immodesty or luxury. An excess of immodesty in fashion involves, in practice, the cut of the garment. The garment must not be evaluated according to the estimation of a decadent or already corrupt society, but according to the aspirations of a society which prizes the dignity and seriousness of its public attire.

It is often said almost with passive resignation that fashions reflect the customs of a people. But it would be more exact and much more useful to say that they express the decision and moral direction that a nation intends to take: either to be shipwrecked in licentiousness or maintain itself at the level to which it has been raised by religion and civilization.

LUXURY

No less unfortunate, although in a different area, are excesses of style when it is assigned the task of satisfying a thirst for luxury. The small merit which luxury has as a source of labor is almost always nullified by the grave disorders that derive from it in public and private life. Prescinding from the dissipation of wealth which excessive luxury demands of its worshippers, who will more often than not end by being devoured by it, it always insults the integrity of those who live by their own toil, and it displays a cynicism toward poverty, either by flaunting too easy gains or by breeding suspicion about the way of life of those who surround themselves with it. Where moral consciousness does not succeed in moderating the use of riches, even if they are honestly acquired, either frightful barriers will be raised between classes, or the entire society will be set adrift, exhausted by the race toward a utopia of material happiness.

In indicating the harm that a lack of restraint in styles can do to individuals and society, We do not intend to suggest that the expansive force or the creative genius of fashion designers should be repressed, nor that fashion should be reduced to unchanging forms, to monotony or to dismal severity. On the contrary, We mean to indicate the right road that styles should follow, so that they may achieve their end as faithful interpreters of civilized and Christian traditions.

THREE BASIC PRINCIPLES: . .

To do this a few principles may be set down as a basis for solving the moral problem of styles; from them more concrete norms may be easily drawn.

. . . THE INFLUENCE OF STYLES

The first is not to minimize the importance of style’s influence for good or for evil. The language of clothing, as

We have already said, is the more effective when it is more ordinary and is understood by everyone. It might be said that society speaks through the clothing it wears. Through its clothing it reveals its secret aspirations and uses it, at least in part, to build or destroy its future.

But the Christian, whether he be creator or client, should be careful not to underestimate the dangers and spiritual ruin spread by immodest fashions, especially those worn in public, because of that continuity that must exist between what one preaches and what one practices, even in the sense of externals. He will remember the high purity which the

Redeemer demands of His disciples even in glances and thoughts. And he will remember the severity which God shows to those who give scandal.

We might call to mind on this subject the strong words of the prophet Isaias, in which was foretold the infamy that was to befall the holy city of Sion because of the immodesty of its daughters (cf. Isaias 3, 16–21). And one could recall those other words with which the greatest of all Italian poets expressed in vehement terms his feeling of indignation for the immodesty creeping into his city (cf. Dante, Purgatorio, 23, 94–108).

. . . CONTROL

The second principle is that style should be directed and controlled instead of being abandoned to caprice and reduced to abject service. This applies to the makers of style-designers and critics; conscience demands that they not submit blindly to the depraved, taste which is manifested by society, or rather by a part of it, and not always that part most discerning in wisdom. But it also applies to individuals, whose dignity demands of them that they should liberate themselves with free and enlightened conscience from the imposition of pre-determined tastes, especially tastes debatable on moral grounds. To direct styles also means to react firmly against currents that are contrary to the best traditions.

Control over fashions does not contradict but, on the contrary, confirms the saying that “fashions are not born outside of and against society,” provided that one ascribes to society, as one should, consciousness and autonomy in directing itself.

. . . AND MODERATION

The third principle, even more concrete, is the respect of “measure” or rather of moderation in the entire field of styles. Just as excess is the principal cause of their defects, so moderation will preserve their value. Moderation, above all, must provide a pattern by which to regulate, at all costs, greed for luxury, ambition, and capriciousness. Stylists, and especially designers, must let themselves be guided by moderation in designing the cut or line of a garment and in the selection of its ornaments, convinced that sobriety is the finest quality of art.

Far from wanting a return to outdated forms -though these often reappear as fashion novelties-but rather to confirm the perennial value of sobriety, We should like to invite today’s artists to dwell for a moment on certain feminine figures in the masterpieces of classical art which have undisputed esthetical value. Here the clothing, marked by Christian decency, is the worthy ornament of the person with whose beauty it blends as in a single triumph of admirable dignity.

III

SPECIFIC SUGGESTIONS TO PROMOTERS ANDASSOCIATIONS OF THE “UNION”

And now some specific suggestions for you, beloved sons and daughters, promoters and associates of the “Latin Union of High Fashions.”

It seems to Us that the word “Latin” itself, with which you have wished to designate your association, callicates not only a geographical region, but above all the ideal aim of your activity. In fact this term “Latin,” which is so rich in deep significance, seems to express, among other things, a lively sensibility and respect for the values of civilization.

It seems to express at the same time a sense of moderation, of balance and concreteness, qualities that are all necessary to the components of your Union. It has given Us pleasure to see that these characteristics have inspired the purpose of your statutes, which you courteously submitted to Us. We notice that these statutes derive from a complete view of the complex problem of fashions, but especially from your firmpersuasion of fashion’s moral responsibility.

Your program is, therefore, as wide as the problem itself, since it includes all the determining sectors of fashions: the feminine group directly, with the intention of guiding it in the formation of its tastes and the choice of clothing; the houses which are “creators of fashions”; and the textile industry: that by mutual agreement all might adapt their efforts to the healthy principles of the Union. And since your Union is composed of organizations that are not mere spectators but participators-We might say actors in the theater of fashions-its program also deals with the economic aspect of fashions, rendered more difficult now by forthcoming changes in production and by the unification of the European markets.

THE FORMATION OF TASTE

One of the indispensable conditions for achieving the aims of your Union lies in the formation of sound taste in the public. This is indeed a difficult task, opposed at times by premeditated design, and it requires of you much intelligence, great tact, and patience. In spite of everything, face it with a fearless spirit. You are certain of finding strong allies, first of all, among the excellent Christian families which are still to be found in great numbers in your own native land.

It is clear that your action in this direction must be aimed mainly at winning over to your cause those who control public opinion through the press and other information media. People wish to be guided in style more than in any other activity. Not that they lack a critical sense in matters of aesthetics or of propriety, but, at times too docile and at other times too lazy to make use of this faculty, they accept the first thing that is offered to them and only later become aware of how mediocre or unbecoming certain fashions are.

It is necessary therefore that your action should be timely. Among those, furthermore, who at the present time are guiding with great effectiveness the tastes of the public, celebrities, especially in the world of the theater and films, occupy a pre-eminent position. In the same measure that their responsibility is grave, so will your action be fruitful wherever you can succeed in bringing over at least a few of these to the good cause.

AESTHETIC AND MORAL PROBLEMS

A distinguishing mark of your Union seems to lie in the careful study of the aesthetic and moral problems of fashions, conducted in periodic meetings, such as the present congress, that have an ever more international character, persuaded as you are that the fashions of the future will have a unified character in the individual continents. Employ yourselves, therefore, to bring into these congresses the Christian contribution of your intelligence and skill, with such persuasive wisdom that no one will be able to suspect you of prejudice in your own personal interest or of the weakness of compromise.

The sound consistency of your principles will be put to the test by the so-called modern spirit, which cannot bear hindrance. And it will be tried by the same indifference of many toward the moral consideration of styles. The most insidious of sophisms are usually repeated to justify immodesty and seem to be the same everywhere. One of these resurrects the ancient saying ab assuetis non fit passio (“The passions are not aroused by things we are accustomed to”) in order to brand as old-fashioned the rebellion of honest people against fashions which are too bold. Must it perhaps be shown how out of place the ancient saying is in such questions?

When We spoke of the absolute limits to be defended in the relativism of style, We mentioned the unfounded character of another fallacious opinion according to which modesty is no longer appropriate in the contemporary era which has now become free of all useless and ruinous scruples.

It can certainly be conceded that there are different degrees of public morality according to the times, the nature, and the conditions of the civilization of individual peoples. But this does not invalidate the obligation to strive for the ideal of perfection and is not a sufficient reason to renounce the high degree of morality that has been achieved, and which manifests itself precisely in the great sensitivity with which consciences regard evil and its snares.

A MORTAL COMBAT

May your Union, therefore, pledge itself to this fight, which aims at insuring an ever higher degree of morality, worthy of its Christian traditions, in the public customs of your nation. It is not by chance that your work, which strives to introduce moral styles, is called a “battle.” Every other enterprise which tries to return to the spirit its domination over matter, meets with battle in the same way.

Considering each battle in particular, one can see that they are individual and significant episodes in the bitter and eternal struggle that everyone who is called to the freedom of the Spirit of God must endure in this life. The Apostle of the Gentiles described with inspired accuracy the front lines and opposing forces of this combat: “For the flesh lusts against the spirit, and the spirit against the flesh; for these are opposed to each other, so that you do not what you would” (Gal. 5, 17). Listing the works of the flesh in a sad inventory of the bequest of original sin, he included among them impurity, to which he opposed modesty as a fruit of the Holy Spirit.

Busy yourselves generously and with confidence, without ever allowing yourselves to be ensnared by that timidity which made the numerically small but heroic armies of the great Judas Machabeus say: “How shall we, being few, be able to fight against so great a multitude?” (I Mac. 3, 17). May the same answer given by the great champion of God and of the fatherland encourage you: “For the success of war is not in the multitude of the army, but strength cometh from heaven” (Ibid., 19).

With this heavenly assurance in mind We take leave of you, beloved sons and daughters. And We raise Our supplications to the Omnipotent that He might deign to bestow His assistance upon your Union, and His graces upon each one of you, your families, and, in particular upon the humble working men and women of fashions. As a token of these favors which We wish you, We heartily impart to you Our paternal Apostolic Blessing.

This address was delivered to an international congress of the Latin Union for High Fashion, an organization recently established in Rome to develop European fashions for a common world-market. This is the lengthiest discussion any Pope has given to the moral problems raised by dress and fashions.

“FASHIONS”

It is often said almost with passive resignation that fashions reflect the customs of a people. But it would be more exact and much more useful to say that they express the decision and moral direction that a nation intends to take: either to be shipwrecked in licentiousness or maintain itself at the level to which it has been raised by religion and civilization.—Pius XII

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Morality

BY REV. CLEMENT CROCK

INDEX

§I. THE VIRTUES OF CHASTITY, PURITY, MODESTY AND VIRGINITY

“Blessed are the clean of heart; for they shall see God” (Matt., v. 8). -”I beseech you therefore, brethren, that you present your bodies a living sacrifice, holy, pleasing unto God, your reasonable service” (Rom., xii. 1).

Of all the disquieting moments human flesh is heir to, my friends, there is nothing that seems to disturb the conscience of us mortals more than the sins against the Sixth and Ninth Commandments. Due to ignorance or misinformation many people worry when there is no cause for worry. Others again do not worry when they should, and arouse their dormant conscience from slumber. Those who worry unnecessarily are usually those who confuse concupiscence and temptation with sin itself. Temptation in itself is no sin. Since the fall of Adam man is prone to evil. Concupiscence is but the aftermath of original sin.

Therefore, everybody should remember this: concupiscence in itself, like temptation, is not a sin. It is the mere tendency, the inclination, to sin. St. Paul speaks of this in his own members. He calls it a “sting of the flesh,” which warreth against the spirit and keepeth a man humble. “And lest the greatness of the revelations should exalt me,” he says, “there was given me a sting of my flesh, an angel of Satan, to buffet me. For which thing thrice I besought the Lord that it might depart from me. And He said to me: “My grace is sufficient for thee”“ (II Cor., xii. 7–9). It is only when this concupiscence is given free rein and left uncontrolled that it becomes sinful. It is then called the sin of lust. But when we retain control, or self-mastery, over our thoughts, words, and actions, we possess the beautiful virtue known as chastity.

Today, we shall first of all consider this key virtue, chastity, which is so necessary to make our daily conduct-our every thought, word and deed-pleasing to and meritorious before God.

Meaning of Chastity-Most people have heard the words, chastity, purity, modesty, virginity and continency; but few Catholics even know the correct meaning of all these terms. Let us define them briefly:

(a) Chastity or purity is a moral virtue or habit, which excludes or moderates the inordinate appetite of venereal pleasures, or concupiscence, according to the norm of right reason. Just as temperance and sobriety determine the proper use of food or drink, so chastity determines the proper control of our lower appetites.

(b) Modesty differs again from chastity or purity. Modesty is that blush, that shame, that instinct, to be found in all people who are not utterly depraved, which prompts them to abstain from improper words or actions, from unbecoming dress or conduct, to repress the curiosity of the eyes and the other senses, lest their chastity be violated. In German it is called “Schamgefuhl,” the nearest to which is our word “shamefulness.” For example, after their sin of disobedience, Adam and Eve realized for the first time that they were without clothes. Their instinct of modesty was awakened.

We might call modesty, therefore, the forerunner, the companion, the guardian, the teacher and protector, or the outpost of chastity. Whatever, then, is against chastity or purity, is also against modesty; but not vice versa.

(c) Lastly, chastity differs from continency. Although continency is ordinarily understood to mean only the restraint of all venereal appetities (because these are the hardest and most necessary to bring under control), in reality continency is that virtue by which we bridle all concupiscence and every other immoderation, even in eating and drinking or whatever it be.

Under the word chastity, we should also mention the terms of “virginity, virginal chastity,” and “conjugal chastity.” (i) Conjugal chastity avoids every thought, word, or deed that is not permitted in holy wedlock. It is that virtue which makes every Christian home so lovely, so happy, so sweet; and manifests itself so beautifully on the mellowed and chaste countenance of married people, who possess this domestic tranquillity. (2) Virginal chastity, again, differs from virginity. Virginal chastity restrains from all forbidden sensual pleasures. It is the virtue so highly cherished by every good man and woman outside of holy wedlock. (3) Virginity, on the other hand, is that special jewel, that unspotted lily, that immaculate white garment, possessed by every man or woman who through life has preserved his or her body inviolate, unspotted by any willful Sin against holy purity.

Highly Cherished Virtue.-This, then, my friends, gives us a comprehensive idea of the virtue of chastity, no matter under what term we speak of it, be it purity, modesty, continency, virginity, and so on. To learn how dear to the pure Heart of Jesus this virtue is, especially in the lives o£ the young people, we need but to turn to Christ’s associates in His own early childhood. Both in childhood and adolescence Jesus associated Himself mainly with those whom He knew to be absolutely pure and beyond suspicion. His Mother was the spotless and most pure Virgin, even in her divine motherhood. His foster-father, St. Joseph, was and remained a virgin. His precursor, St. John the Baptist, who prepared the way for His coming, was and remained a virgin. His favorite Apostle was the virgin John, who later took care of His Virgin Mother, Mary.

His enemies accused Jesus of being a law-breaker; but He would never permit even His enemies to accuse Him of violating the virtue of chastity. Why this insistence on holy virginity, holy purity, in His own behalf and for His intimate companions in the very beginning of His life? Undoubtedly, to impress upon all His followers the high value and urgent necessity of the virtue of chastity, particularly in the beginning of our career on earth. For Jesus knew that, once self-mastery has been acquired, all other virtues follow readily; and with them peace of heart and mind, which are the safe anchors for temporal and spiritual happiness. This Jesus confirmed once more in His Sermon on the Mount, when He addressed the multitude, saying “Blessed are the clean of heart: for they shall see God” (Matt., v. 8).

St. Anthony, who loved this virtue so dearly, was visibly rewarded one day when the Blessed Mother herself presented her Divine Infant into his arms. St. Agnes, Philomena, Cecilia, Lucy-all young girls-offered their lives in martyrdom rather than violate this holy virtue. In the Lives of other Martyrs we read that not only brutal men, but even savage beasts maddened with hunger and turned loose upon the helpless Christians who awaited their martyrdom in the arena, lost their ferocity, and were subdued unto gentleness and meekness by the sight of pure and innocent manhood and maidenhood.

Even the ancient pagan Greeks and Romans, who were noted for their lust, had their vestal virgins in testimony of the human instinct to reverence and prize whatever makes for purity and chastity. So great was their reverence for these vestal virgins, even though only outwardly so, that if a conquering hero returning from glorious victories was having a triumphal procession through the streets of the city and a vestal virgin came his way, the procession was halted in reverence to her, and the conqueror paid her public homage.

Considered even from a merely natural standpoint, it is far sweeter and more profitable to lead a chaste life than to be in the thralls of impurity. How often do we not read of a young man or woman committing suicide, after having lead an immoral life! But you never read of a young person ending his or her life through misery of mind and wretchedness of heart brought on through the practice of purity and self-control. Hence, for physiological and psychic reasons alone, a sensible young person will keep the mind clean, the heart pure, and the imagination away, as much as possible, from matters of sex.

Many non-Catholics, who have not the religious training that we have, from a mere interest in their personal comfort and wellbeing, from an instinctive appreciation of modesty, and as a strong factor towards self-control and self-possession and towards ensuring future happiness, ease and contentment, aim to keep their minds pure and their hearts chaste. Their native good sense tells them that this cannot be attained, except through a rigid check, a severe and unrelenting guard, over their sensuous leanings and sexual appetites. In consideration of all these motives, both and unrelenting guard, over their sensuous leanings and sexual appetites. In consideration of all these motives, both 2) could rightfully cry out: “O how beautiful is the chaste generation with glory for the memory thereof is immortal: because it is known both with God and with men. When it is present, they imitate it: and they desire it when it hath withdrawn itself, and it triumpheth crowned forever, winning the reward of undefiled conflicts.”

Virginal Chastity Regained.-Many of my listeners are doing so perhaps with a heavy heart. Already, their many past transgressions against this virtue may lead them to cry out with St. Paul: “Unhappy man (or woman) that I am, who shall deliver me from the body of this death?” (Rom., vii. 24). In consequence, there may be such who are wondering if, through their past lapses, they have forfeited the dignity and honor of virginal chastity forever; or if lost, can it ever be recovered somehow? And if so, in what manner?

The answer is contained in the same Epistle of St. Paul to the Romans: “The grace of God, by Jesus Christ, our Lord” (Rom., vii. 25). It is true that the Church has made no explicit pronouncement upon this point. But St. Augustine, one of the greatest Doctors of the Church who in his youth and before his conversion had been guilty of shamefulexcesses of impurity, says a comforting word, when he declares, that “virginity, which has been lost, may be recovered by a long practice of chastity” (see Meyer’s “Youth’s Pathfinder,” p. 122). Added strength to this view of St. Augustine is found in the life of St. Margaret of Cortona. She is known as the St. Mary Magdalen of the Order of St. Francis. After her conversion from a scandalous life of immorality, Our Lord drew her closer and closer to Himself by the bonds of divine love. The stronger their holy friendship and union grew, the more tender and endearing were the names with which Jesus addressed Margaret. At first He called her His “dear little sheep,” which He had found again. Then, in loving gradation He called her His “child, His daughter, His beloved, and finally, His spouse,” assuring her at the same time that her place in Heaven would be among the virgins, whose glory she would share. No matter what be the theological value or non-value of this legend, there is at least a great deal of real comfort and genuine encouragement here for every God-loving soul who has been unfortunate after the manner of St. Margaret, but who, like her, wants to give whatever remains of her love and devotion entirely and forever to Jesus, the pure Lover of penitents, as well as of innocent virgins. In addition to St. Margaret and St. Augustine, there is another consoling fact. It is this: beneath the Cross of Jesus, as He was dying upon it, as His Precious Blood oozed forth from His sacred members, not only was Mary the spotless one, but immediately next to her stood also Mary, the penitent one. Following, therefore, the example of Christ, no position or vocation in the Church established by the same forgiving Lord should be closed to a repentant soul, be it honorable wedlock, or holy priesthood-just as St. Augustine was not barred from the priesthood, nor St. Margaret of Cortona from a religious sisterhood.

Conclusion: Never to Have Sinned Is Sweetest.-But sweet as is the forgiveness of sin on the part of God after the fall, the consciousness of never having seriously violated holy chastity and virginity, thanks to the grace of God, is a joy infinitely more soothing and delicious. Mary Magdalen was indeed happy at having been pardoned by Jesus after her fall. But Mary, the Mother of Jesus, must have been unspeakably more happy for never having sullied her innocence and purity with the least shadow of guilt.

But if it is too late for us to be happy after the manner of Mary Immaculate, then we must strive earnestly to be happy after the manner of Mary, the Penitent. If our innocence is still unsullied, then let our one ambition in life be to merit the eulogy pronounced by God upon Mary, namely: “Thou art all fair, O my love, and there is not a spot in thee” (Cant., iv. 7). At all events, either for innocence preserved or for innocence regained through penance, let us cultivate an ardent love and tender devotion to Mary, who invites all sincere lovers of purity, saying: “Come to me, all ye that desire me. I am the Mother offair love. . . . In me is all grace, . . . all hope of life, and of virtue” (Ecclus., xxiv. 24 sq.). Amen.

§II. THE SIN OF LUST

“Know ye this and understand, that no fornicator nor unclean person hath inheritance in the kingdom of Christ and of God” (Eph., v. 5).

From the moment of our conception, my friends, we have the germ of good and evil implanted within us. When we attain the use of reason, the battles of life begin. From then on until our dying day there is a dual struggle going on within our being, each inclination striving to gain the mastery over us. The one aims at the higher, the nobler things of life-the chaste, the pure, and the beautiful. Opposed to this is that other power which Sacred Scripture calls “the beast” the animal nature within us, ever-striving to overpower our spiritual nature. This lower element of our nature constantly tends to the unholy things of life, and craves to satisfy those baser appetites.

These struggles become more violent as we grow into adolescence until the closing years of our teens, especially. Usually, after the age of twenty or thereabouts, one or the other of these dual powers will predominate. The stronger of the two will determine most of our thoughts, words and actions thereafter. Should the evil predominate, only a miracle of God’s grace can liberate us from its meshes. Yes, any person so ensnared can truly cry out with St. Paul: “O unhappy man that I am, who shall deliver me from the body of this death? The grace of God, by Jesus Christ, our Lord” (Rom., vii. 24 sq.),.

Proposition.-Under the Sixth and Ninth Commandments, we call this dual struggle within us between the good or bad, virtue or vice. The virtue we call chastity, the vice we call lust. In our previous sermon we have already considered the virtue of chastity under its different aspects. Today we turn to the unpleasant phase of this dual struggle. In other sermons to follow we shall consider the sins of the flesh and the occasions thereof, more in detail; but today we will speak of them under the one common term, namely, lust.

Definition.-What do we mean by the word, lust? It is defined as an inordinate, unnatural love of the pleasures of the flesh and of the senses. Contrary to the opinions of some, not all pleasures of the senses are forbidden. Divine Providence has prepared many pure and innocent pleasures for us-pleasures that are necessary to entertain us, to repair our strength, to preserve our health, to sustain us in our weakness, and to relieve our ills. For example, we have the sensible pleasure that goes with well-prepared food or drink; the sweetness of sleep in a cozy bed; the exhilarating sensation after a good bath; the beautiful aspects which nature and God’s creatures present to our eyes; the sweet and harmonious strains of music, etc. Any such pleasures, when they are not excessive and are enjoyed with a proper motive, are praiseworthy and legitimate.

But it is different with the pleasures of the flesh and of the senses, in relation to the organs of sex, when they are contrary to the purpose for which God created them. We then call these pleasures “sins of the sense,” or sensuality. There are other terms by which we designate these sins, due to their peculiar malice, with which all intelligent Catholics should be familiar. There is, for example, the sin of immodesty, the sin of impurity. (a) If the complete sexual satisfaction is sought by oneself alone, it is called self-abuse. (b) If it is an intercourse of sexes between single or celibate people, it is called fornication. (c) If one or both are married, the sin is called adultery. (d) If they are closely related, though not married to each other, it is incest. (e) Unnatural sexual relation between persons of the same sex, or of the opposite sex, is called sodomy-after the biblical city of Sodom, which was destroyed by fire and brimstone on account of these unnatural sins. (f) Finally, sexual transgression with an animal is called bestiality. But all these sins, by whatever name you call them, are classified under the one term, lust, of which Holy Scripture says “that they who do such things shall not obtain the kingdom of God” (Gal., v. 21).

Nature and Gravity of Lust.-St. Jerome and St. Alphonsus give it as their opinion that nine out of every ten persons in hell owe their damnation to the sins of lust. Be that as it may, it seems probable that about that proportion of sacrilegious confessions are reducible to the sins of the flesh-either on account of lack of proper contrition or on account of failure to confess sins properly through false shame or pride. The reason why so many are lost on account of this sin, is because this sin so completely overpowers its victim that the unfortunate soul clings to its charms and pleasures to the last. Thus, dying unrepentant, it becomes for him the unpardonable sin.

The Dignity of Man.-It is only after we understand the dignity of man that we realize fully the gravity of these sins. (1) “We are, first of all, creatures made to the image and likeness of God, endowed with understanding and free will. Through Baptism, Confirmation, Holy Communion, and the other Sacraments, our bodies, says St. Paul (I Con, vi. 15), become “members of Christ,” nay, “one with Christ.” “Know you not,” says St. Paul (I Con, iii. 16-sq.), “that you are the temple of God, and that the spirit of God dwelleth in you? But if any man violate the temple of God, him shall God destroy. For the temple of God is holy, which you are.” This body is one day to arise again from the grave, either in glory or in shame. What, therefore, can be more degrading, more debasing, than to pollute this body with the sins of lust and sensuality?

What would you say if a man should come here before God’s sanctuary and profane this temple with shameful crimes and abuses? But what of these crimes in comparison to those who profane the living temples of the Holy Ghost-their bodies, the dwelling places of their souls for whom Christ shed His Precious Blood, and died the ignominious death on the Cross?

(2) Secondly, to ascertain how displeasing to God the sins of lust are, we need but to look at the terrible punishments He has sent to those who have committed this sin. Was it not this vice that caused the deluge? Was it not the sins of lust that brought down fire and brimstone upon the infamous cities of Sodom and Gomorrah and destroyed all the inhabitants thereof? Was it not lust that caused the death, through the sword of Phinees, of 24,000 Israelites in one day, that effected the extermination of almost the entire tribe of Benjamin, and which drew so many evils upon the house of David (Num., xxv. 6–9)?

In our own day, whence arise the many plagues and misfortunes that afflict us? Pestilences and contagious diseases; so many sudden deaths, bloody wars, tempests and storms, floods and drought; so many disasters, as fires and earthquakes, which ravage cities and provinces. In all of these can be seen the hand of an angry God, who strikes and chastises us. “Believe me,” says St. Thomas of Villanova, “they are also in punishment of intemperance and the frightful lust of mankind.” God’s mills grind slowly, but surely; and severe chastisements of this nature God employs only as a last resort, in order to draw His wayward children from evil and sin.

Fatal Consequences to the Individual.-Furthermore, the individual addicted to the sin of lust brings both spiritual and physical ruin upon himself. I quote from a doctor of authority: “The entire nervous system, the emotional and religious life become deranged. The body loses its vigor and resistive powers, while the mind forfeits its robustness, alertness and resourcefulness. Many a youthful and beautiful complexion, florid appearance, sprightly gait, graceful carriage, and easy manner, are hopelessly ruined by this unnatural practice; many a brilliant mind is shorn of its power of initiative, spirit of enterprise, glow of originality, fire of enthusiasm, by the same suicidal habits. It sickens the imagination, deadens the emotions, and brings on depression of spirits, melancholy, despondency and despair, and extinguishes every spark of religious enthusiasm.” There is no crime too low to which a man of lust will not stoop. Hardly had the wise Solomon become unchaste, when he offered incense to idols and became an apostate. King David, from an adulterer, became a homicide. What about Martin Luther, King Henry VIII of England, and Napoleon of France? It was lust that started them all on their career of apostasy, infidelity, murder and ruin. Why so many infidels in the world today, who mock everything holy, everything pure, if not because they are steeped in the sins of lust? O frightful plague of religion, of society, of so many individuals!

Conclusion.-Realizing the evil consequences, may I exhort you to fly from and to detest every avenue of approach to this sin? Every pastor knows, and God knows, the many temptations that are flaunted before us at every turn in the world today. For this reason, holy Mother Church is most generous in dispensing the graces of God to fortify us from being drawn into this maelstrom of lust which surrounds us on every side. In turn, there is something refreshing, amidst the present whirlpool of filth, to see those untold numbers of beautiful souls, young men and women as well as elders, in every walk of life, who in spite of evil surroundings still retain the beautiful virtue of purity and chastity.

These realize that we are never sure from an unexpected attack. Hence they combat these powers of evil by practising the virtue opposed to lust, namely, chastity-that most beautiful of all virtues, the flower of good morals, the honor of the body, the glory of both sexes, the foundation of all sanctity. Chastity elevates man above the angels, and renders him, so to say, similar to God. Let us pray often to God for this holy virtue; then rest assured that He will never refuse us the graces necessary tofulfill what He commands. Fortified thus, we can say with St. Paul: “I can do all things in Him that strengtheneth me.” Amen.

§III. OCCASIONS OF SINS OF LUST: THOUGHTS AND LOOKS

(Newspapers, Pictures, Movies, etc.)

“Out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaketh” (Matt., xii. 34).-”I fear lest, as the serpent seduced Eve by his subtility, so your minds should be corrupted, and fall from the simplicity which is in Christ” (II Cor., xi. 3).

Man, my friends, is made up of body and soul. Unlike all other creatures, he is endowed with intellect and free will. Through his soul, he becomes reasonable and free, master of his own actions.

It matters not how strait the gate,

How charged with punishments the scroll,

I am the master of my fate,

I am the captain of my soul. (Wm. E. Hanley).

Yes, endowed with intellect, immortal and allied to the Angels is man! For, as the Psalmist declares: “Thou hast made him a little less than the Angels.” On the other hand, through his body, man is related to inferior creatures, and even to the very dust of the earth. Hence these two elements, the material and the spiritual, body and soul united, forms man. But there must be one head, one master, that must dominate and rule. Which shall it be? You will say that it is the soul and reason, of course. And what is to be the subject of this rule? You answer that it is the body. It is the body that must obey.

But now take a glance at those steeped in lust and impurity. In such, the soul is degraded to the position of a servant and slave of the body and of the flesh. The right order is inverted. Passion controls, and reason obeys. To avoid this inverse order in our lives, of the body domineering over the soul, God has given us the Sixth and Ninth Commandments as guides. In these He forbids not only the sinful act itself, but also all those factors that may lead up to the sinful act, or prepare the way for it. The latter group, we shall begin to consider today. We may call them the avenues of the enemy’s approach, or the occasions for the sins of impurity. Our Catechism groups them under the following heads, namely: thoughts, desires, looks, words, and deeds. Today we shall take up thoughts, desires and looks.

Thoughts and Desires. -Our enemy’s first avenue of approach is through the intellect, by placing before us thoughts and images against holy purity. These thoughts and images, however bad they may be, are not sinful if not followed by bad and wilfully entertained desires. St. Paul and others of the greatest Saints had violent temptations of this nature.

These thoughts may even be accompanied by a certain sensation of pleasure without becoming sinful. Concupiscence is an effect of original sin; and it is in us, in spite of ourselves. But it is in our power not to give consent, either to the thought or to the sensation of pleasure. It is in our power to reject both as soon as we are conscious of them. In case we do, these thoughts are not only not sinful, but may be even meritorious. Such, for example, are the thoughts that so frequently confront us, like a mist, like a cloud, passing over a clear sky.

Therefore, before we should be disturbed over evil thoughts or desires, we must be certain of three things: (a) the thought or image must be intrinsically immodest or impure; (b) we must be conscious of its presence and take pleasure therein; (c) we must give our free consent to the thought or pleasure. If one or other of these conditions is missing, there can be no grievous sin. But when all three conditions are present, then our thoughts are sinful, and very often grievously sinful. For, says Christ, such a one has already committed the sin “in his heart.” This important fact is frequently overlooked, when people examine their conscience for confession and neglect to mention the sin of thought.

Sins of Looks. -Next to our thought, come our sight and hearing and our other senses. Our eyes are frequently called the “mirror of the soul.” For, it is through the eyes that objects from without are mirrored in our minds. Also our eyes may reveal to others the thoughts that are entertained within the mind. Frequently, without a warning, our eyes may fall upon an object that is indecent. If we immediately turn away from that object, we may incur no guilt. Even willful looks of curiosity may not in themselves be sinful; but they readily expose one to the danger of sin. For example, a curious and indiscreet look led David to fall (II Kings, xi. 2), the chief of Sichem to outrage Dina, the daughter of Jacob (Gen., xxiv. 2), the two men who threatened to attack the chaste Susanna, and so on. So grievous, therefore, may the sin of sight become that it is equal to the act itself. For, says Our Lord, “whosoever shall look on a woman to lust after her, has already committed adultery with her in his heart” (Matt., v. 28). And St. Augustine tells us that he knew persons of such eminent sanctity that he would have been less surprised to see an Angel fall than these holy persons; and yet they fell and were lost on account of immodest looks.

Bad Books and Pictures. -Most people’s actions, and this is especially true with the young, are mere repetitions of what they see others do. For that reason, there used to be a popular saying: “As the parent, so the child. As the father, so the son. As mother, so the daughter.” But in our day, when the fireside is no longer the place where children gather for their recreation and social hours, when the home is rather a place to eat and to sleep in when there is no other place to go, there are other outside influences that are equally as great as, if not greater than, the influence parents exercise in moulding the physical, mental, and moral future of their children. And of all the unbridled commercialized influences that have been instrumental in bringing morality, especially amongst the young, to such a low ebb as we find it today, there is nothing more destructive than the immoral picture magazines, cheap books, and the moving picture traffic, as we find them at present.

To confirm these statements, I visited one of our local “respectable” newsstands, similar to those that are commonly found in every community all over the land. On its shelves I discovered more than 15 pornographic magazines, that reek with lewdness, filth, and immorality from cover to cover. In the same newsstands, you find circulating libraries of books, amongst which cannot be found one out of a hundred that is fit reading matter for respectable people. And yet, we find that our own Catholic people frequent and patronize these places without qualms of conscience.

Next to these magazines and books, which lead people to sin against the Sixth and Ninth Commandments through the sense of sight, we must mention in particular, our modern moving picture theatres. There, lewdness and sex have been depicted upon the screen in such a manner that the movie colony at Hollywood has fallen into ill-repute the world over. Even the players themselves there fell so low in their morals that one writer describes the colony “as so rotten that it stinks.” In some foreign countries, as in Ireland, as high as 80% of American movies are banned from the country because of their obscenity and indecencies.

As advocates of the Legion of Decency, we do not condemn all movie pictures. Every new discovery in art or science can be used for good or evil. Visual education, too, can be productive of much good. But the evil lies rather in the industry itself, as it has been conducted, than with the individual movie houses. The reason is this: in this country four or six motion picture producing companies control, not only the production, but the distribution of nearly all movie films as well. Through their “block” and “blind” booking, these companies oblige the distributor to buy blindly in a block, without previous inspection and without any right of selection or discretion, whatever is sent to him locally. Those too in control of production are commonly people without any religion, and are frequently opposed to all positive religion.

And lest we be accused of exaggerating the physical, mental and moral harm that moving pictures are doing, let us hear from a nationally recognized authority. His name is Henry James Forman, who published his findings in 1929 after an exhaustive study. He entitled his book: “Our Movie-Mad Children.” He estimates that the movies touch the lives of 250,000,000 people every week. The average weekly attendance in our own country is nearly 80 millions, of which 23 millions are young people under 21 years of age. These 23 millions of children spend at least two hours each week in movie theaters. Twelve millions of these children are 14 years or younger, while 6 millions are seven years or younger. Seventy per cent of the pictures reviewed had for a dominant theme crime, sex love, violence, or horror, with 449 crimes being noted in 115 films taken at random.

EFFECTS ON CHILDREN. -HERE ARE THE RESULTS UPON THE MINDS AND BODIES OF THESE CHILDREN

(i) First, after attending such pictures, scientific tests were made of a group of children selected at random. The physical disturbances, indicated by increased restlessness in sleep, averaged 4% in girls and 26% in boys; while individuals registered as high as 90%. In all cases, the increased restlessness lingered over a period of several nights, while the normal work at school was disturbed for days after attending the movies.

(2) The emotional reactions were found equally as great, registering five times as great in children as in adults. Due to the excitement caused, it was found that the pulse had jumped to 140, instead of the normal pulse rate of 80; in individual cases it reached 192. In the opinion of a noted neurologist, the scenes of horror and tense excitement produce an “effect similar to shell-shock,” which eventually “amounts to an emotional debauch, sowing the seeds for future neuroses and psychoses”-which, in our language, are forms of insanity.

(3) The moral harm can scarcely be estimated. The sex appeal; the racketeers, the flaming passion and high-power emotionalism so featured in the movies, may easily nullify every standard of life and conduct set up at home and at school for the child. What a crime this “greed for profits on the bodies and souls of little children!” No wonder the Manchester Guardian of England, referring to our American movies, should suggest: “The United States has agitated against the trade of opiates in the Far East. Would it not be well for her to act as vigorously against the corrupting influence that comes from her own shores (through her moving pictures)? No wonder, then, that according to a conservative estimate (Commonweal, May 5, 1933) there are at least 55 millions of intelligent people in this country, who never go to a movie theatre, because the pictures are “below the level of their intelligence.”

Likewise with reason, therefore, did a group of Catholic women, under the National Council of Catholic Women, condemn the movies in the following caustic terms: “We find the average film reeking with vulgarity, crammed with lewd dialogue, disguised under the term of “wisecracking.” We find immorality exalted; gross spectacles presented in the form of realism. Divorce is upheld as an ideal condition; faithfulness between husband and wife is looked upon as something unusual. Films deal with the lives of morons, rather than of decent men and women. The gangster and horror pictures have given place to the production of the most immoral films of all time.”

The Legion of Decency.-Justified, therefore, was the Catholic Church as a whole, unitedly to organize her “Legion of Decency,” under the capable leadership of the Most Rev. Archbishop McNicholas, O. P. Everyone knows the nature and intent of this organization now. Other religious bodies and organizations have united with us in this campaign. A good beginning has been made, but only a beginning. The producers in Hollywood have promised a reform. There are signs of improvement from that source. But we cannot stop there. This is only one angle of the work of the Legion of Decency. Our campaign must go on until all sources of corrupting influence are checked. We must go on until our news-stands with their bookshelves and magazine counters are cleared of filth and corruption; until our schools, colleges and universities remove from their teaching staffs those whose doctrines are demoralizing and corrupting the minds of their pupils.

This is your work and mission, you fathers and mothers, you older men and women! It is not the youth of the land that is seeking a lower standard of morals than our forbears. It is their elders that are preparing and pointing the way. It is true that thirty years ago the average criminal’s age was forty. Today, those who glut our penal institutions are nearer twenty years of age, or even less. But where must we look for the causes of the youthful criminal? Is it not in our lewd advertisements in our daily newspapers, books and magazines, placed there for profit? In our theatres where crime and racketeering, where vice and immorality, are extolled and virtue flaunted? Is it not in our many schools of learning, where teachers are deliberately misleading youth from the high principles of living, offering in their stead unbridled license as the guiding principle of life, self-indulgence and self- gratification as its goal? These teachers of youth declare, that neither the criminal nor the ordinary citizen has any freedom to determine his own acts but that everything is predestined by his heredity and experiences. What respect can the pupils have for religion, what reverence for authority, human or divine, when their teachers sneer at the “myth and outworn superstition,” as they call it, of a personal God? When the young are told that the Ten Commandments are only a man-made code of etiquette, the crystallized will of a group, and not the revealed law of God, binding upon the conscience of man? Are we forgetting George Washington’s wise warning, that “reason and experience both forbid us to expect that national morality can prevail in exclusion of religious principle”? Have we forgotten the proverb: “It is hard to take out of the oak the twist that grewin the sapling”? Here lies our responsibility.

And our cause is not entirely hopeless. There are signs of an awakening in many quarters. “The very presence of a widespread alarm and concern for youth is a sign of health. When public men and women are voicing the need of safeguarding the youth of the land, it is an indication that the Nation is becoming aroused to the evil influences threatening the young. When business and professional men, clergymen, parents and teachers are beginning to give thought to the problem, that fact alone begets the wellfounded hope that youth, with “its illusions, aspirations, and dreams,” will come through the perils of the new age victorious” (“Nation’s Youth Problem,” by J. I. Corrigan, S. J.).

If we elders will not protectyouth against this modern exhibition of “greed for profits” which preys “on the bodies and souls of little children,” there are signs that youth will soon refuse to follow us. They will set out to chart their own future course. The heart of American youth is still sound. “Our young are fired with stronger idealism, higher ambitions to climb greater heights than ever before. They are charged with a courage to dare, with ambition to achieve, with nobility to strive, with inspiration to win, what their forefathers could not achieve.” What hopes for America, with her 40 and more millions of children and adolescents! “What a picture they make as they troop off to school, day after day, 231/2 millions strong to our elementary schools, 5 millions to our high schools, and 1 million to our colleges and universities.” There is yet hope for the future-if not in our elders, then in our youth. We still retain confidence in modern youth, whose heart and mind are moulded after God’s own plan. In the words of the poet, let us close with a tribute to youth:

How beautiful is youth! How bright its gleams,

With its illusions, aspirations, dreams!

Books of beginnings, story without end,

Each maid a heroine, and each man a friend!

All possibilities are in its hands,

No danger daunts it, and no fee withstands; In its sublime audacity of faith,

“Be thou removed,” it to the mountain saith. And with ambitious feet, secure and proud, Ascends the ladder, leaning on the cloud. Amen.

§IV. OCCASIONS OF SINS OF LUST

WORDS AND ACTIONS

“Out of the abundance o f the heart the mouth speaketh” (Matt., xii. 34).-”Uncleanness, let it not so much as be named among you, as becometh saints” (Eph., v. 3).

Everything that is necessary for the proper care of the body, so that it remain clean and healthy, is allowed, and is no sin. Everything that is done for wicked pleasure, is forbidden, and is a sin; be it in thought or desire, in looks, in words, or in action. These are mostly known as the sins of the senses-the “avenues of approach,” as we called them in our last discourse, or the occasions for sins against the Sixth and Ninth Commandments. First of all, since the soul or mind should control the actions of the body in rational creatures, the evil one begins by directing his attack upon our thought-life. Evil thoughts may arise like a sudden mist, and try to disturb us. But, as we said, these thoughts are not sinful unless they are wilfully entertained. And by prayer and determination of will we can control these thoughts and dispel them before they become sinful.

Next to thought, Satan plans his approach through the eyes. Jeremias calls the eyes the “windows through which death enters.” Salvian calls them the “mines of the soul.” For, as the strongest rocks and walls are blasted by mines, so, by fixing the eyes upon dangerous objects, the soul is instantly confronted with impure thoughts and desires that cause the destruction of holy virtue. St. Bernard, therefore, says: “A true sign of chastity is caution in looks, and he who is dissolute in looks,you must conclude, is also unchaste.”

Proposition.-From sinful objects or looks follow evil thoughts and desires; and from these proceed also evil words and actions. For, as St. Matthew wistfully says: “Out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaketh” (Matt., xii. 34). What these sinful words and actions are in relation to chastity, we shall discuss today.

Immodest Words.-St. Paul in his Epistle to the Ephesians (v. 3) tells us: “Uncleanness, let it not so much as be named among you, as becometh saints.” Elsewhere (1 Cor. xv. 33), he further warns: “Evil companionships (communications) corrupt good morals.” For, once the eye has grown evil and thoughts become corrupt, the sense of speech is not slow to express in words what is in the minds of people with whom we associate. Who has not heard the saying: “Like begets like”? Or: “Tell me with whom you go, and I will tell you what you are.” In other words, he that sees alike, will think alike; and they that think alike, will speak alike; and from thinking and speaking there is but one step to doing alike.

No one knows human nature better than Jesus, our Saviour, knew it. And for the question under discussion He left us the parable of the prodigal son. This wayward son had become impregnated with evil thoughts and desires through bad companionship. Through his conversation with others he had heard of the liberties he might enjoy away from home. His home surroundings became distasteful, and he became restless. He asked his father for his inheritance- something he was not entitled to until after his father’s death. “He went abroad,” says Scripture, “and wasted his substance, living riotously” (Luke, xv. 13). Upon his return, his brother states it more explicitly, by saying he “devoured his substance with harlots” (ibid., 30).

Here Our Lord points out every step that is taken by one who falls into grievous sins against the Sixth and Ninth Commandments. Had this young man not listened to the evil conversation of his wicked and corrupt companions with whom he associated, his downfall would have been averted. And yet, there are those who think lightly of the immodest conversation that is carried on daily by and around them. You frequently hear them say: “Oh, we don’t mean any harm by it. It is just in fun.” But not all those who hear that filthy talk, will go away and believe “it was all in fun.” In their quiet moments, the things they have heard will recur again and again to their minds. It becomes a scandal to them; and like the prodigal son, it may be the beginning of a coming downfall, a life of sin. Hence, without making any distinction, whether any harm is meant or not, Sacred Scripture, through the mouth of the Apostle, forbids all immodest language, saying: “Let no evil speech proceed from your mouth” (Eph., iv. 29). “Put away filthy speech out of your mouth” (Col., iii. 8).

Bad Actions.-Speak no evil, do no evil! Or the reverse: speak about immodest things, and there is but one step to doing impure things! This brings us to another question which a Catholic priest would rather not speak about, but would prefer to pass over unnoticed. But were I, from false delicacy, to leave some of you entrusted to my care in dangerous ignorance of or in doubt concerning certain sinful acts, I might incur blame for serious injury to your souls and one day hear from God the awful sentence: “If thou dost not announce My word to man and make it known, I will require his blood (his soul) at thy hand” (Ezech., iii. 18).

First of all, we must proceed to answer some of our objectors, who do not agree with us on what we call forbidden or sinful actions.

Objection 1-”Why,” they say, “insist upon an impossibility? Nobody keeps quite chaste. You don’t understand what life is, until you’ve tasted life. Give me a man who has had experience, and then he can talk, if he wants.”

Answer.-As to the impossibility, we know that there is a large group of clean men and women composed of Catholics and non-Catholics alike, who conduct themselves quite as they should. They come to marriage, or even live out their whole life of single blessedness, without their purity ever losing its lustre. There is still another group larger than the first, who, either through ignorance or through human frailty, have done wrong once perhaps, but never again. These quickly regain their friendship with God, and lead pure and noble lives the rest of their days.

Again, it is quite true that keeping oneself chaste involves the sacrifice of one experience, but it means the gaining of a better experience. For example, if I never had smallpox, I miss the experience of the infection of smallpox. Yet, is it not better to have experienced good health without the experience and marks of smallpox? Hence, you may answer the impure: “I agree that I have sacrificed one experience; but I have also gained one. And so have you. But the one I have gained is by far better than the one you have had. I have got nearer to true manhood, you nearer to animalhood.”

Objection 2-Another fallacy you often hear is this: “A certain amount of indulgence is good for you. It quiets your nerves.” In reply we say: go and ask any reputable doctor whether it “is good for you.” He will tell you that our social diseases and nervous exhaustion, about which we hear a great deal today, are due to sexual debauchery. As to “quieting your nerves,” he will tell you that just the contrary is true. Why does every instructor for prize fights and athletics advocate the very opposite, namely, complete abstinence? The fact of the matter is that sexual indulgence is a short, acute shock to the nerves, leaving its scars and searing the conscience. But virtue’s experience “is like a glow, not a flash; an experience of happiness, not of mere pleasure.”

In every age there have been those who held that ever so often it was good, nay, evennecessary, to ease one’s concupiscence, either through pollution, self-abuse, or intercourse with others. This is one of the trump charges which the lecherous and impure love to make, especially against the chastity of priests and Sisters.

Here is a story to the point. A certain anti-Catholic speaker was making these very charges against priests and Sisters. Amongst other charges he made this statement: “It is impossible for any man to remain pure for six months at a time.” A man in the audience arose, and asked the speaker this question: “You are a married man with a family, are you not?” “Yes,” was the speaker’s reply. “You just told us you recently spent nine months abroad on business, while your family was here at home, did you not?” “Yes,” was again the reply. “Then,” said the man in the audience, “I pity your wife and your children.” The audience caught the point, and booed the speaker from the platform.

These people deny the possibility or the advisability of continency. Do you know the meaning of that word? Continency means the positive abstention from all carnal pleasures under all circumstances. This does not include those nocturnal or periodical emissions, which are natural for a healthy, normal person of either sex. We affirm that physicians are in almost unanimous agreement with the statement of Dr. Henry Stanton, a recognized authority, who says: “Strict continence is neither injurious to health, nor does it produce impotence [as some contend]. While self- denial is difficult, since the promptings of nature often seem imperious, it is not impossible. It is certain that no youth will suffer physically by remaining sexually pure. The demands which occur during adolescence are mainly abnormal, due to the excitements of an over-stimulating diet, pornographic literature and art, and the temptations of impure association.” Of our own strength, yes, it might be physically impossible. But, says Our Lord “My grace is sufficient for thee” (II Cor., xii. 9). “The grace of God, by Jesus Christ, Our Lord” (Rom., vii. 25). And so counsels the Wise Man: “As I knew that I could not otherwise be continent, except God gave it, I went to the Lord, and besought Him with my whole heart” (Wis., viii. 21). Prayer, then, gives us the added strength needed.

Objection 3.-Butour adversaries are persistent. Their next reply is: “Well, after all, these actions are but natural.” But this is only a half-truth, and that is why it sounds so plausible. In man, endowed with intellect and freewill, such actions uncontrolled are only partly natural. They correspond to instinct, which we have in common with the animal, the brute. But if they are duly controlled and properly governed by reason, they are fully natural. For actions through instinct go all the way in an animal, but only part of the way in man. Hence, to follow instinct and not reason would be to cut away the very part that makes man human-that which makes our acts human acts. Therefore, continency, or control of sensual appetites by reason and instinct combined, is natural, and self-indulgence is not.

Even aside from a supernatural standpoint, let us not be misled by these false prophets of self-indulgence. Listen to this remarkable document. In accordance with the best medical opinion of the world, the following Bulletin (known as “General Headquarters Bulletin, No. 54”) was issued from the American Army Staff in France, on August 7, 1918: “Sexual continence is the plain duty of members of the American Expeditionary Forces, both for the vigorous conduct of the war, and for the clean health of the American people after the war. Sexual intercourse is not necessary for good health, and complete continence is wholly possible. . . . Commanding officers will urge continence on all men of their commands, as their duty as soldiers, and the best training for the enforced sexual abstinence at the front. Instruction, work, drill, athletics, and amusements will be used to the fullest extent in furthering the practice of continence. By command” of General Pershing. Official: Signed: Robert C. Davis, Adjutant General, James W. McAndrew, Chief of Staff.”

Finally, if “it is but natural,” then why the feeling of remorse that follows every abnormal sensual satisfaction? Why call it a temptation or sin at all, if it is but natural? Why call “each maid a heroine, and each man a friend,” who overcomes that evil propensity, if it is but natural? Why, if the opposite is but natural, does Tennyson cry out in Sir Galahad:

My strength is as the strength of ten,

Because my heart is pure.

Nay, rather “blessed is the man that endureth temptation,” says St. James, “for when he hath been proved, he shall receive the crown of life.” Amen.

§V. OCCASIONS OF SINS OF LUST

DRESS AND DANCING

“Evil communications corrupt good manners” (I Cor., XV. 33)

In childhood we acquire most of our knowledge by imitating what we see and hear our elders do and say. Even after our mental faculties are properly developed, it is estimated that less than five percent of the people think for themselves. The other ninety-five per cent continue, as in childhood, to accept what they see others propose, or do, for them. You can readily understand, therefore, what an influence for good or for evil our modern newspapers, magazines, books, theatres, school and daily associates exercise in moulding the thoughts and habits of the majority of our people. It is estimated that the eighty millions of people who frequent our theaters every week spend more money on this form of amusement alone than is spent in and for all the churches in the country taken together.

As stated before, these external forces are frequently occasions for grievous sins against the Sixth and Ninth Commandments. Bad example, then, is a fruitful source of many of our social evils of today. Even our recreation, our mode of dress, have come under their spell. I have, therefore, selected for our discussion today two other avenues of approach not heretofore mentioned, which Satan frequently employs as occasions that may lead to grave sins against the Sixth and Ninth Commandments. They are two popular subjects, namely: dress and dancing.

Dress or Styles of Dress .-Frequently, when an audience hears a speaker mention the subject of styles and dress, a certain resentment arises in the minds of many, who murmur to themselves: “Now, why should he bring up that subject again? Are not the styles determined by the designers of clothes? And must we not dress according to the time and the country in which we live?” Rather, would I ask you not to prejudge me as a radical on this matter. As intelligent Catholics and Christians, we should sooner ask: “Why do we wear clothes at all? Where do styles originate? Who determines styles, and for what purpose?” After these facts have been determined, we may perhaps have cause for censure or for praise.

ORIGIN OF DRESS. -THE ORIGIN OF DRESS DATES BACK TO THE GARDEN OF EDEN. AFTER ADAM AND EVE HAD SINNED, THEIR CONCUPISCENCE WAS AROUSED; AND THEY, FOR THE FIRST TIME, REALIZED THAT THEY WERE NAKED

In the Book of Genesis (iii. 7), the first Book of the Bible, we read: “And when they perceived themselves to be naked, they sewed together fig leaves, and made themselves aprons. . . . And the Lord God made for Adam and his wife, garments of skins, and clothed them” (Gen., iii. 7, 21). It was God Himself, therefore, who dictated the first styles of clothing, and gave them to man. And it was modesty on man’s part that prompted him to adopt clothing to cover his body.

Later on, clothing was worn, as it is today, for protection against heat and cold, to preserve health, and to ward off disease. Styles were further adopted to distinguish the sexes, to mark the difference in office, occupation or social rank, and so on. Thus, we find the different uniforms for general, captain, sergeant and common soldier, and for the police in cities all over the world; also different church vestments for the different festivals.

But early in the history of the human race women were known to clothe themselves for the sake of adornment, also using jewels and cosmetics to enhance their appearance. Nowhere do we find the Church condemning this practice as long as it is done with proper decorum and in moderation. But in the course of time these adornments were used for vanity’s sake, and for other baser motives. Already we find St. Paul, for example (1 Tim., ii. 9), refer to improper styles of dress amongst his converts to Christianity, over whom Timothy was to preside as bishop. In his final instructions to Timothy, St. Paul says this: “In like manner, women also, in decent apparel adorning themselves with modesty and sobriety, not with plaited hair, or gold, or pearls, or costly attire (for vanity’s sake).” In other words, he asked his convert women to dress becomingly and modestly. For “after this manner,” says St. Peter, the head of the Apostles, “heretofore the holy women also, who trusted in God, adorned themselves” (I Pet., iii. 5). Hence, ever obeying the mind of the Church, good Christian women clothe themselves with virtue; and virtue has always determined the styles or modes of dress for decent people.

However, on account of the constant contact with pagan nations, with their immoral principles and practices, the Church has been forced again and again to remind Christians in the words of St. Paul: “Evil communications corrupt good manners” (1 Cor, xv. 33). And corrupt morals invariably manifest themselves m the mode or style of dress that is adopted, especially in feminine apparel. It is easily seen, therefore, how our designers of modern styles of dress are governed by the same pagan immoral influences, unless checked by our open protests. The impelling motives behind modern styles are no longer modesty, protection against weather, or becoming adornment, but principally sex appeal. And the sad part of it is, that so many of our modern Christian women and girls often have no idea what a factor their dress (which to the wearer may seem harmless) is in arousing the sex urge of others who must associate with them.

It is for this reason that especially the last three Pontiffs, Pius X, Benedict XV, and Pius XI, have deplored the modern styles of feminine apparel. Only recently, Pope Pius XI deplored the modern trend of fashion in the following terms: “The unfortunate mania for fashion causes even honorable women to forget every sentiment of dignity and modesty. The decrease of womanly reserve has always been a sign of social decadence. The vanity of woman causes the disintegration of the family. An immodest mother will have shameless children. A shameless girl cannot be a good wife. It is possible to dress with ladylike decorum, without imitating monastic severity.”

On January 12, 1930, the same Holy Father of Christendom instructed the bishops throughout the world to take active measures in behalf of decency of dress. He requests them to report to him on this matter every three years. The note of instruction enjoins not only bishops, but also parish priests, fathers and mothers, directors of schools and institutions, and nuns conducting these schools, to remember their serious duty in giving all necessary instruction, and “insisting” on modesty in feminine attire.

It is, therefore, vanity of dress that the Church condemns. For, says Lavater: “She who studies her glass, neglects her heart.” And, continues Shakespeare: “The soul of the vain man is in his clothes.” Hence, no matter how innocent the girl’s intentions, no matter how good her motives, common decency forbids her parading before others to display the beauty of her form, instead of the “beauty of her soul and the loveliness of her virtue.” For, as Father Scott, S.J., expresses it: “God put the instinct of attractiveness in women, in order to induce honest love and marriage. The way some women dress induces only dishonorable love. . . . It implies no esteem, no honest purpose, no idea whatever of true affection. Nothing fades so fast as the attraction founded on animal passion. The scandalous dress of some women exposes them to lustful eyes, generates false love, and lays the foundations of lifelong misery.”

Dancing.-From improper styles in dress, we go to improper dancing. The one, as we readily see, is the natural supplement to, or outgrowth of, the other. The vain person is not content with self-dornment, but wants to display this vanity before others. Social gatherings and amusements afford the best opportunities for this. Hence, those whose vanity centers in the sex appeal, find no better outlet than in our dance halls, where participants may be observed at close range.

Here again the doctrine of the Catholic Church on dancing holds fast to the principle: “Is it right, or is it wrong?” Unlike the puritanical attitude of those who condemn all forms of diversion and recreation-be it smoking, chewing, drinking, playing cards, games, theatricals, etc., even though practised in moderation-the Catholic Church condemns no pastime as long as there is no sin connected with it. Many pastimes can be directly or indirectly utilized for healthbuilding purposes. But, like in dress, so in dancing it is not the use, but the abuse, to which a thing is put that we condemn.

We know, for example, that in the Old Testament the Jewish people were accustomed on festival days to dance around the Ark. Even to-day, on great feasts in some countries, it is customary for children to dance before the Blessed Sacrament in the sanctuary. So, now we do not condemn respectable dances, where the participants are properly clad, proper decorum is observed, and the evening is spent together for recreation and innocent enjoyment. In fact, in most of our schools, we find instructors in this art, teaching the children rhythmical movements of their bodies and cultivating grace and proper bearing, all of which are conducive to health and happiness.

But what the Church does condemn is every form of sin and abuse in dancing. And today, as in the past, experience teaches that most of the public dance halls are hotbeds for sin and cesspools of vice. Hence, the Church forbids all public dances, where there is no restriction as to who attends. Whenever the advertisement reads, “Everybody welcome,” that should be a sufficient warning in itself. Secondly, the Church condemns certain forms of dancing, no matter whether conducted in public or in private. This includes such types as the “bunny-hug,” the “tango,” certain “foxtrots,” certain “round dances,” which, on account of the position and proximity of the participants, are considered immoral, and are therefore forbidden. Individuals again are forbidden every form of dance which they themselves find a proximate occasion of sin.

Against sinful dances we are warned already in the Old Testament, where we read: “Use not much the company of her that is a dancer, and hearken not to her, lest thou perish by the force of her charms” (Ecclus., ix. 4). And even though we sin at such dances only in thought, St. Paul tells us that “he that lusteth after her in his mind, has already committed the sin before God.”

Even though one should not believe in the inspired word of God, we still have many other proofs from many other sources that confirm our attitude towards indecent dances. For example, Demosthenes, the greatest orator of pagan Greece, wishing to cast odium upon persons belonging to the army of King Philip of Macedon, accuses them of participating in public dances. In pagan Rome, to describe a woman without morals it was enough to say that “she dances more elegantly than becomes an honest woman.” Ovid, Aristotle, Plato, Seneca and Scipio, all profane writers, describe public dances in their times in a manner that cannot even be quoted here. Tertullian represents the public dance hall as a “temple of Venus, or a sink of obscenity.”

St. Ambrose calls them “a choir of iniquity, the rock of innocence, the grave of shame.” And St. Charles Borromeo adds: “The worldly dance is nothing el se than a circle of which the devil is the centre and his slaves the circumference; whence it hardly ever happens that a person dances without sin.”

Just listen to these two quotations of our own times from the Hobart College Herald and the New York University News, representing two non-Catholic schools for women in this country.

From the Hobart College Herald, I quote: “The outstanding objection to the modern dance is that it is immodest and lacking in grace. It is not based on the natural and harmless instinct for rhythm, but on a craving for abnormal excitement. And what is it leading to? The dance in the process of its degradation has passed from slight impropriety to indecency, and now threatens to become brazenly shameless. From graceful coordination of movement it has become a syncopated embrace. Even the most callous devotee of modern dancing cannot think with unconcern of the danger involved in any further excess. For American morals have undoubtedly degenerated with the dance. It cannot be denied that many who indulge in modern dancing do not realize the nature of the incentive which leads them to do so. They like to dance; it becomes a habit, a fascinating obsession. . Were this thoughtless immodesty restricted to the ballroom, the danger would be great enough, but it is unconsciously carried into everyday life. Truly, then, it is imperative that a remedy be sought to arrest the development of the modern dance before this perilous state gets beyond control.”

Now, briefly from the New York University News: “Overlooking the physiological aspects of women’s clothing, there is a strong moral aspect to this laxity of dress. When every dancing step discloses the entire contour of the dancer, it is small wonder that moralists are becoming alarmed. The materials, also, from which women’s evening dresses are made, are generally of transparent cobweb. There is a minimum of clothes and a maximum of cosmetics, head-decorations, fans, and jewelry. It is, indeed, an alarming situation when our twentieth century debutant comes out arrayed like a South Sea island savage.” These, my friends, are words, not from a Catholic Priest, but from two groups of non-Catholic women, who still believe in decency and proper decorum.

Conclusion.-With such an array of indictments, then, surely no normal-minded Catholic or Christian can refrain from vigorously censuring such forms of amusement. What surprises us so often is the fact that all upright and cleanliving women do not rebel, and rise up in open revolt against the degradation that is being heaped upon pure womanhood everywhere around us. Why permit those enticing posters of nudity and unbecoming posture which we see upon display so frequently in front of present-day moving picture houses? Why permit the indecent display of their sex upon the shelves of our public newsstands? Shall we continue to tolerate such abuses, solely for lucre’s sake, and the demoralization of our youth? It is said that if our Catholic people alone would unite and rise up in rebellion against these organized powers of evil, we could force every industry of vice into bankruptcy, and close the doors of our salacious haunts of vice and corruption. Once the start is made, all decent people will rally their forces behind us. Pray to God to give us strength and courage to marshal our forces against this present debauchery, and preserve for posterity holy purity, that anchor of all other virtues for which Christ Jesus came to earth, bled and died. Amen.

§VI. OCCASIONS OF SINS OF LUST

UNDUE FAMILIARITIES, PETTING

“He that loveth danger shall perish in it” (Eccles., iii. 27).

A religious survey conducted in 1926 at Villanova College, a Catholic boys” school, disclosed a surprising need of more explicit instruction upon the specific dangers confronting young people of our day. In reply to the question, “On what points of Catholic Doctrine do you feel you need more instruction?” purity and matrimony were mentioned more than any other point of doctrine. A similar questionnaire was given to my own high school pupils, and the same reply was received from both our boys and girls. Another similar questionnaire was submitted to 186 college graduates concerning their attitude on mixing socially with the better class of girls at dances, parties, etc., their attitude on minor love-making, their reaction from reading modern fiction containing realistic love scenes, from attendance at the average musical comedy and movies. Nearly all of these 186 men reported something disquieting in their conscience upon one or all of these points.

My friends -and especially you, my dear young men and women-the expressions of concern on the part of so many who answered these questionnaires, prove that, in spite of what others might think about these matters, a conscientious person is not entirely satisfied with the decorum observed by so many of our people today. It proves to us all that we see so frequently in modern fiction, on the screen, in our movies-the love scenes, those prolonged kisses, the undue familiarities between the sexes, the petting parties, and so on-do not prove to be innocent when put to an actual test. Our subject then for today will be as follows: “Undue Familiarities and Petting Parties,” as two more means by which Satan leads people to sin against the Sixth and Ninth Commandments of the Decalogue.

Upon this subject I would love to speak to you as a friend to a true friend. And I trust you will accept my words in this spirit. Many parents and teachers are often ignorant of what actually goes on in the minds of young people. In like manner, upright young men are often ignorant of what is really transpiring in the minds of ideal young women with whom they associate, and vice versa. I refer to the fact that boys and girls, and parents too, are generally ignorant of the essential difference of the sex instinct, as found in man and woman. The common notion is that it is about the same in all people, and that it differs only in intensity. But biologists and psychologists have done well in exposing this wrong notion. They distinguish two factors in the sex urge which all should know. First, we have the psychic factor, that is, the craving of the soul for companionship, understanding and response. The second is the physical factor, which is inherent in the body, and which craves the sensuous phase of sex. It is well for all to know and remember this distinction.

In the boy it is usually the physical factor that predominates, while in the girl it is the psychic factor; and this not infrequently continues throughout life. Dr. Maurice A. Bigelow expresses it in this way: “The sexual instincts of young men are characteristically active, aggressive, spontaneous, and automatic; while those of the girl, as a rule, are passive, and subject to awakening by external stimuli, especially in connection with affection.”

These facts should be of particular interest, especially to our young people. So often a good girl has no idea of the vehemence of the boy’s passion. As a pure girl, she is conscious only of her love, and her desire to be loved in return. She often censures the parent or confessor for being too severe. She believes that the boy has the same innocent intentions as herself. And so she cannot understand what harm there could be in kissing and embracing. She knows that she has no evil intentions. She wishes merely to display her affection. She wishes nothing more, and expects nothing more. This is usually the average experience of the normal girl, who is so eager to have a boy friend and to go out with him. And thus she “makes dates with him,” as she calls it.

On the other hand, the boy has no knowledge of th e girl’s attitude. He does not know or realize that the girl is different from himself. And when the girl is affectionate, he immediately concludes that she is just as passionate as he himself; that she is feeling the same physical urge as he. How many a pitfall, how many a fatal step, might have been avoided, if every boy and girl had known these differences in their sex urge earlier in life! Hence, Pope Pius XI, in his Encyclical on the “Christian Education of Youth,” warns parents and teachers in these striking words: “It is no less necessary to direct and watch the education of the adolescent, “soft as wax to be moulded into vice,” in whatever environment he may happen to be, removing occasions of evil and providing occasions for good in his recreations and social intercourse; for “evil communications corrupt good manners.” “

I trust you will pardon me for my frequent quotations. I am doing this in order to drive home my point more forcibly, by giving you the opinions of other recognized authorities, besides my own. Twenty Catholic doctors, a few years ago, were asked their opinions on various topics in the PeckWell’s inquiry. I shall quote them only in part. They declare, that “love-making, petting and kissing ordinarily arouse passion, few are immune; some get disgusted when the girl makes too ardent advances; extreme liberties cause the height of sexual excitement, in perhaps 15% or 20% of the cases. . . . Mixing socially with the better class of people disturbs the sexual emotion only with particularly sensitive boys; public dances cause much more trouble, both because of loose conversation, and because the girls frequently encourage close hugging, and the like; and the immoral dances, so common today, are nothing more nor less than sensuality set to music.”

These, my friends, are the words of twenty experienced physicians; men who, in view of their profession, certainly cannot be accused of bias or undue sentimentality on the subjects. And yet, there are those girls who persist that they see nothing wrongin kissing and petting, with prolonged embraces in one another’s arms. They belong to that class who, in the words of Dr. George W. Sandt (Lutheran), “paint and powder and drink and smoke, and become an easy prey to a certain class of well-groomed and wellfed high livers, whose chief business is “to pluck the blush of innocence from off the cheek of maidenhood and put a blister there.” “ It is from this type of girls that the startling evidence came to light a few years ago through judge Fred E. Bale, of Columbus, Ohio, who estimated that in one year 68,000 girls were reported missing in the United States. The majority of these girls, he says, were from good families and had “got in trouble,” and rather than face their parents or embarrass their families they simply “dropped from sight.”

And the young boy, too, who boasts of the number of girls he can kiss and fondle, is far from being a gentleman. Dr. Exner sets forth the true character of such a young man, addicted to petting. “The real lover,” he says, “aspires to personal development and perfection, in order that he may the more readily contribute to the happiness of his mate in love. The petter, on the other hand, seeks chiefly his own pleasure and uses other persons to that end as he would use a thing, each to be cast aside when it has served his purpose.”

This, my friends, is the sleek sheik who will dash to the curb in his auto and offer to take an innocent, unsuspecting girl for that fatal auto ride. Imagine a girl from a good home, coming to you withthe question: “Father, is a girl allowed to give up her virtue before marrying the boy she is going with?” These are the scoundrels who try to make a girl believe anything just to attain their evil end. This is the dangerous type of young man, who cannot feel comfortable, or at ease, when he must keep company with his girl friend in the presence of her parents and other members of her family. Of such the poet writes:

Is there, in human form, that bears a heart,

A wretch! a villain! lost to love and truth!

That can, with studied, sly, ensnaring art,

Betray sweet jenny’s unsuspecting youth?

Curse on his perjured arts! dissembling smooth!

Are honor, virtue, conscience, all exiled?

Is there no pity, no relenting ruth?

(Cotter’s Saturday Night).

Now comes a fairquestion many a good girl is tempted to ask. It is this: “Father, can’t we girls have any friends at all then? Must we remain “wall flowers” all our lives?” Our answer is that every good boy and girl should have their friends. In the world of today, as in past ages, as well as in time to come, all good people look for friendship. They pine for lack of it. The pagans held friendship as the very end and purpose of life. They declared it the most perfect gift of God to man. There is nothing else which gives so great joy in life as true friendship. Our Perfect Model had His friends. Jesus has His chosen twelve, including a special three; and of the three, an especial one, John, who is called the “Beloved Disciple.”

But what is true friendship? It is openness between friends, confidence, the absence of all reserve. Between friends there can hardly be any secrets. With each other, by silence as well as by the spoken word, they exchange their inmost thoughts. Unconsciously, they are allowing each other to enter into the depths of the heart, that is hidden by a thick veil from all others. And, to be genuine, friendship must reveal certain qualities. First, it must be loyal-no fairweather friendship, nor such as allows an attack on one’s friend to go unchallenged. Secondly, it must be constant. Those who are always changing friends, one friend today, another tomorrow, know not what true friendship is. They have many acquaintances-yes; many friends-no! Thirdly, it must be frank. It must be based on sincere confidence and trust. Constant correction is not frankness in friendship, but rather an overzealous attempt to reach the results of friendship. Next, it must be ideal friendship; that is, I must see my friend as he is and as I would like that he should be. Lastly, it must be respectful, that is, decent and modest. For passion destroys friendship by destroying respect, and debases the precious signs of love.

Conclusion. -My friends, with these words I conclude my series of discourses on the occasions of sins of lust- or, as another has called them, “the Devil’s methods of approach” in leading people into the sins of impurity. These, we said, were principally through our senses-our thoughts, our desires, our eyes, our speech, and our actions. We included bad literature, theaters and the movies, bad companionship, sinful styles of dress, sinful dancing, and lastly petting parties, or undue familiarities with others. How well Satan succeeds in all these various methods of approach was revealed to St. Teresa, who, in a vision, was permitted by God to get a glimpse of hell. In this vision she saw impure souls fall into hell like flakes of snow in a wintry storm.

Yes, with such an overwhelming flood of temptations surrounding us, with false maxims and false principles of a pagan world confronting us, we may well be induced to cry out: “Lord help us!” And our loving Saviour replies in the words He addressed to St. Paul, namely: “My grace is sufficient for thee.” Yes, prayer and the Sacraments are our weapons to safeguard holy purity.

Speaking in the name of every priest, let me close with one more word of advice -never forget it! It is this: no matter what be your temptations, what your difficulties, never be afraid to go to your pastor, your priest, with your difficulties. To run away from our problems, to try to hide them, only makes matters worse. Let us face them together; and you will always find your priest a sympathetic friend. I still have great confidence in our young men and women of today. They have not lost their courage. In fact, they possess a refreshing absence of hypocrisy, unparalleled in earlier times. We admire their frankness and their sense of humor. When confronted with difficult problems, they would rather face and conquer them than try and avoid them. Therefore, when temptations against our holy virtue cross our paths, let us have a like courage, and exclaim with the Patriarch Joseph of old: “How then can I do this wicked thing, and sin against my God1” (Gen., xxxix. 9). And with St. Paul: “I can do all things in Him who strengtheneth me.” Amen.

§VII. SAFEGUARDS TO HOLY PURITY

MEANS OF PRESERVING IT

“Wherefore, he that thinketh himself to stand, let him take heed, lest he fall” (1 Cor., x. 12).

Most people are self-centered to a greater or lesser degree. To the extremist, the world appears much like a large spider web. Everything gravitates towards him. He stands in the center, with every pleasure, every comfort, every other creature forming the various strands which constitute the web around him. With him, self and not God is the ultimate end of his ambitions. His law-not God’s law-is supreme. For such there is but one law, and that is selfgratification, be it in wealth, in pleasure, in lust, orin any other violation of God’s Commandments. In fact, he does not believe in the existence of a Supreme Being. Untold numbers follow these principles, this doctrine.

To the true Christian, on the other hand, God and not the individual is the center of attraction. All other creatures form the various strands of this web, which is world-wide, and everything gravitates toward the center, which is God, the Creator of us all. To hold fast these various strands, God has given us certain laws to follow- to irrational creatures the natural law, and to His rational creatures His positive laws, contained in the Ten Commandments. To safeguard our honor and the honor of our neighbor in relation to God, we have the Sixth and Ninth Commandments. We call this virtue chastity or purity-purity of intention, purity of thought, word and action.

Keeping the two schools of present-day philosophy in mind, one centering everything in self and the other centering everything in God, we can better understand, according to our Christian ideals, the gravity of every sin-and especially of impurity, as we have demonstrated in our preceding sermons. Every Christian and Catholic, then, should desire to know what are the safeguards, what the means, of preserving purity or chastity in thought and deed. This shall be our subject to-day.

With purity all other virtues thrive: without it no others can. Purity is such a beautiful virtue, so delicate in nature, that it precludes any and every tampering with it, lest the lily fade and die.

Knowing this to be true, we must look for all the safeguards with which we may enshroud it and protect it. To discover these safeguards, God has given us understanding and free will.

But there is another modern school of thought which has a large following. Their doctrine originated with the socalled Reformation of the sixteenth century. They deny the freedom of the human will, our freedom to do or not to do a thing. With them there is no such thing as “safeguards” for holy purity. Reason and free will are mere myths, in their estimation. Martin Luther called reason the “Devil’s Harlot.” Denying the freedom of the will, he wrote to Erasmus: “The human will is like a beast of burden; if God mounts it, it goes and wishes as God wills; if Satan mounts it, it goes and wishes as Satan wills. Nor can it choose the rider it prefers.” In other words, man is not responsible for his actions, be they good or bad. Therefore, there is nothing we can do about it when temptations come.

We, on the other hand, say that we are responsible for our actions. God has given us understanding and free will. He has also given us the Commandments to guide us. When our reason and will act in conformity with these Commands, we say our actions are good. If not, we say they are bad. In regard to holy purity, then, we have two classes of safeguards to preserve it. The first class comprises those means to be used before temptation, or when we are free from temptation; the second comprises those to be used when we are actually tempted.

Before Temptation.-While we are free from temptation, we must prepare and gird ourselves for possible and unexpected attacks. Before Colonel Lindbergh and his wife set out together on their 29,000 miles of perilous journey over land and sea from July to December of 1933, they did not say: “Everything depends on God or Satan for the success or failure of that flight.” They did not wait until dangers and difficulties confronted them. On every lap of that journey, before setting out, they checked their airplane, every instrument and detail; they prepared to meet any and every crisis.

Over the sea of life, despite the unexpected and dangerous storms and squalls surrounding us, God has given us certain means by which we may secure a safe passage. To safeguard the lily of holy purity before the attack, He has given us four means to ward off the assault: two of these we hold in our own hands; the other two are supernatural. The first two are the avoidance of bad company or occasions of sin and the custody of our senses, especially the eyes. The second two are prayer and the Sacraments.

(1) Avoidance of Bad Company.-We have already seen how easily bad company can lead us into sin; how lack of restraint of the senses, especially of the eyes, gives rise to impure thoughts and desires. Some may say: “Oh, I”11 be careful! God will protect me.” But this is not sufficient. There is something peculiar about temptations against holy purity, which allows no halfway measures. We cannot hesitate. For, “he who hesitates will perish.” “He who loves danger will perish therein” (EccIus., iii. 27). Immediate flight is the only alternative. And in this flight, we must-like the aviator-watch every instrument; that is, our senses, so that none fail us.

This is the advice one holy man gave to a boy who came to him for advice after having yielded to temptations against holy innocence. “There are three things,” he said, “you must do, if you really desire to overcome these temptations. First, you must fly away; secondly, you must fly at once; and thirdly, you must fly away quickly.” The young man followed this advice and his efforts were crowned with success.

Self-denial or mortification is also a powerful help. This means to deny ourselves some pleasure, some particular dish at table, some tit-bits, and the like, which we might legitimately enjoy, and are allowed. This strengthens our wills so that when the time comes we may deny ourselves the things that are not allowed.

(2) Prayer and the Sacraments.-Secondly, the helps from above, which enable us to overcome temptation, are prayer and the Sacraments.

(a) For the virtue of purity, earnest prayer to God and His Blessed Mother, our Guardian Angel and the Saints, is a notable means of overcoming temptations. We find this promise recorded in the Book of Wisdom(viii. 21): “And as I knew that I could not otherwise be continent except God gave it, I went to the Lord and besought Him.” And St. Augustine, who was a great sinner before his conversion, confirms this, saying: “I thought that I could lead a pure life bymy own strength; but soon I felt that I was too weak. Then I began to pray.”

Let us mention a few of the prayers we might use. The making of the sign of the Cross, with the word “Jesus” said three times, is sufficient to ward off ordinary temptations. Then we have the beautiful prayer to our Guardian Angel, which we learnt at our mother’s knee, and which should be repeated mornings and evenings, namely:

Angel of the Lord, my Guardian dear,

To whom His love commits me here,

Ever this day be at my side,

To light and rule, to guard and guide.

For the Blessed Virgin, we have the beautiful “Hail Mary,” and St. Bernard’s prayer of consecration, beginning with the words: “Remember, O most gracious and Blessed Virgin Mary, that never was it known, that anyone who fled to thy protection was left unaided,” etc. Then again, most of you know this little prayer: “O Mary, my Queen and my Mother, remember I am thine own. Keep me and guard me as thy property and possession. To thee, this day, I consecrate my eyes, my ears, my mouth, my heart, and myself and my whole being.” Then you can add any other prayer you may know.

The Blessed Virgin once said to St. Bridget: “As a mother who sees her child in danger of being put to death by an enemy, runs forward and does all in her power to save that child; so do I also run to help my children, even those among them who have already yielded to impure temptations, just as soon as they call upon me for help.”

(b) The other helps from above are the Sacraments of Penance and Holy Eucharist. The more we polish a jewel, the brighter its lustre, and the less chance is there for dust to gather. The Sacrament of Penance does a similar thing to the soul, in protecting it from any tarnish against holy purity. And what food is to the body, that Holy Communion is to the soul. Hence, these two Sacraments support us in temptation, raise us when we have fallen, and strengthen us when we are weak. If we cling with all our hearts to the Blessed Sacrament, “the bread of the strong, the wine of virgins,” then purity is safe.

Thousands of books have recommended these two remedies. The Saints have used Penance and Holy Eucharist as their panacea. Millions through the centuries have tried the same, and with constant success. And today, when men and women, exposed to the allurements of the world and beset at the most dangerous age with temptations of all kinds, have succeeded not only in leading pure lives outwardly, but also in keeping their hearts and their thoughts pure, it is because they have gone regularly to Confession, and received often the Blessed Sacrament of the Altar. Such persons, and these only, triumph. And, if even they sometimes fall, what can those expect who without watchfulness, without prayer, without the Sacraments, try to conquer temptations? St. Don Bosco, a holy confessor, says: “To confess only once every three months, is for young people as little as a drop of water upon a redhot iron.” And St. Francis de Sales advises us: “You ought not to wait longer than a month, you who love your innocence.”

Means Used When Actually Tempted .-But supposing Satan, with his temptations, has broken through the first line of defense, and the storms of temptation are already upon us, what is to be done then? First of all, resort to flight, if that is possible. If not, then again, turn immediately to prayer: “Lord, save me, or I perish!” “O my God, rather let me die than sin!” “O Mary, help me; do not desert me.” “How can I do this wicked thing and sin before my God!” Other similar short ejaculations, accompanied by a sign of the Cross upon your forehead, your lips and your breast, will surely help. For the Cross is the sword for all Christians.

Secondly, remember what you sacrifice by a few moments of sensual pleasure.

My strength is as the strength of ten,

Because my heart is pure.

Thus cries out Sir Galahad. When the morning sun shines into the little dewdrops, we can see some of the glory and splendor of the heavens reflected there. So in chastity. Some of God’s glory and beauty is reflected in my soul, for the soul is the image and likeness of God. “Chastity gives me a memory, prompt and tenacious; thought, quick and abundant; a will, strong and persevering; a character, tempered with a vigor unknown to libertines.”

All this I will sacrifice for a sin that will cover me with shame. My conscience becomes disturbed; my countenance grows pale and wan; the voice grows feeble and hoarse; my memory grows dull; intellectual exertion becomes difficult; and ills without number haunt me as old age creeps over my dissipated and polluted body. What an exchange for so little in return!

Conclusion. -Before closing, let me tell you the story of a beautiful picture. Once described, you may profitably recall it in times of temptation. It is a group-picture, with the Blessed Virgin Mary occupying the center. She is seated upon a throne, wearing a lovely crown, the symbol of royalty. In her arms she holds the Child Jesus, who is distributing four lilies to four Saints. The lilies are symbols of innocence of heart-that virtue which makes a soul especially, dear to Jesus and His purest Mother. On this picture, to the right of Mary, are two figures of the protectors of innocent youth, namely, St. Aloysius and St. John Berchmans. To her left are the two virgins, St. Cecilia and St. Agnes. Immediately in front of these four Saints are four little children, who are stretching out their hands to the Infant Jesus. The four Saints in the picture urge them to do this. For these little children, too, want to receive the lily of purity. Their favor is granted, because they prayed to Mary with Jesus in her arms. Yes, my friends, when temptations come, we are not alone.

SOMEBODY KNOWS

Somebody knows when your heart aches, And everything seems to go wrong; Somebody knows when the shadows Need chasing away with a song;

Somebody knows when you’re lonely, Tired, discouraged, and blue;

Somebody wants you to know Him, And know that He dearly loves you.

Somebody cares when you’re tempted And the world grows dizzy and dim; Somebody cares when you’re weakest, And farthest away from Him;

Somebody grieves when you’ve fallen, Tho” you are not lost from His sight: Somebody waits for your coming, Taking the gloom from your night.

Somebody loves you when weary; Somebody loves you when strong; Always is waiting to help you, Watches you, one of the throng,

Needing His friendship so holy,

Needing His watch-care so true.

His name? We call His name Jesus.

His people? Just I and just you.

(Fanny Edna Stafford.)

O, how beautiful and pleasing, then, must the virtue of purity be, since it makes a soul the favorite one with Jesus and Mary! “O, how beautiful,” says Holy Writ, “is the chaste generation with glory; for the memory thereof is known both with God and with men. . . . It triumpheth crowned forever, winning the reward of undefiled conflicts” (Wis., iv. i sq.). Amen.

§VIII. DUTIES OF PARENTS TOWARDS CHILDREN

INSTRUCTING THEM IN MATTERS OF SEX

“All things are clean to the clean; but to them that are defiled, and to un believers, nothing is clean; but both their mind and their conscience are defiled” (Titus, i. 15).

On April 10, 1907, Pope Pius X gave to the Catholic world a message which at the time seemed strange and startling to many of the older folks of that day. It was that memorable Decree, in which this Holy Pontiff directed pastors and parents to encourage early and frequent Communion. Instead of waiting until the boy or girl had reached the age of 12 or 14 (as had been the custom), he advised that children at the age of seven, or when they have attained the use of reason, should be instructed in the rudiments of our holy religion, and then be permitted to receive their First Holy Communion. The reason this Pope, a great lover of children, gave was that this had been the practice of the early Christians; and that, on account of our times, when the young people are exposed to so many temptations against their holy innocence, Holy Communion is to be the antidote which is to preserve them in their virtue and innocence.

In like manner, in recent years, the thinking minds of the Church have perceptibly changed their attitude in favor of more direct and explicit instructions on the Commandments, and of the Sixth and Ninth Commandments in particular. On account of the many new channels through which a child of today may acquire false ideas on sex matters, the Church counsels especially parents and teachers to be mindful of their sacred duties in these matters. Primarily, however, the duty rests upon parents to impart to their children this necessary instruction on the sacred mysteries of life. This duty of parents is the subject for our discussion to-day.

A few years ago, an experienced missionary (see “Sex Education,” by Fr. Felix Kirsch, O.M.Cap., p. 146), sent the following questionnaire to 500 pastors in various parts of the country. “Is it,” he asks, “your impression that Catholic parents give the necessary sex instruction early enough to their children? If not, why not?” From these 500 pastors, 320 replied “No,” and only 43 replied in the affirmative,. The principal reasons given by these pastors, for the parents” neglect of their duty, were these: (i) parents do not know how to instruct their children; (2) they do not realize the need of the instruction; (3) they are too timid about discussing the subject with their children; (4) they think that the priest should take care of the matter in the confessional; (5) some parents believe that teachers might give sufficient information in a general way in school; (6) too many parents believe that children may be left to themselves in the matter; that somehow or other they will find a way out of the difficulty themselves.

One old pastor in the East added the following note: “You will render a much needed service, if you will do something that will make our Catholic parents bestir themselves. Not all parents seem to realize to what frightful dangers their children are exposed at the present time. Children are seduced at an early age, whereas they could be saved if they were instructed betimes at home. They contract the habits of impurity before they are aware of what is happening to them. The confessor cannot do everything.”

In recent years, a number of our public schools introduced in their curriculum a special course in sex hygiene and eugenics, trying to supplement the instructions the child should receive from his parents. But, on account of the unfitness and divided opinions of the teachers themselves, experience has proved that these public school instructions have done more harm than good. These subjects cannot be taught independently of religion. And yet, so many of these teachers begin with the principle: “Sex and morals have nothing to do with one another.”

Besides, these instructions should begin long before a child is sufficiently advanced in school to receive instructions there. Tennyson was correct in saying that “we are a part of all we meet.” Other scholars say that the character of a child is formed from birth until he reaches the age of reason, at about the seventh year. Then also, on account of our environment, curiosity about the mysteries of life is aroused at a much earlier age than in the past. Imagine a child of five or six years old coming to his parent or teacher, as has happened, and asking without blush or shame: “Where do babies come from?” Imagine the statement of Miss Tracy, a policewoman of Worcester, Mass. (October, 1928), where she admits that nine-year-old children have told her things about sex which she did not know at forty.

And just because the age at which the legitimate curiosity of children may be aroused varies so greatly, it becomes all the more difficult for teacher or pastor to give class instructions on this subject. Hence, it becomes evident that father and mother, who are in daily contact with their sons and daughters from birth, have the sacred duty to instruct the child when the opportune time arrives. This is what Pope Pius XI restates in his Encyclical on the “Christian Education of Youth” when he writes: “It is no less necessary to direct and watch the education of the adolescent, “soft as wax to be moulded into vice,” in whatever environment he may happen to be, removing occasions of evil and providing occasions for good in his recreations and social intercourse; for “evil communications corrupt good manners.” “

But many a father or mother will ask the questions: “When should I begin with these instructions? How shall I go about it?” The time to begin is when you see that the child grows curious to know what it has a right to know. Our principle is: “Rather a year too soon than one hour too late.”

When and How to Proceed.-Age and circumstances must determine this to a great extent. Take the little boy or girl, for example, who asks the question: “Mamma, where do babies come from?” There was a time when the question was answered with a curt reply “The stork (or the doctor) brings the babies.” Or: “Little children like you should not ask such questions.” But these answers do not satisfy the mind of the child. They only arouse the curiosity of the child still further. They create a mistrust in the mind of a child towards his parent; and the child quietly awaits the opportunity when he may obtain that information from other sources. Hence the Church discourages-in fact, condemns-such vague and unsatisfactory answers. Alban Stoltz, the writer and author, calls such replies “lies.” And “a lie never brings a blessing.”

The same author (Fr. Felix Kirsch, “Education to Purity,” p. 188) suggests that parents should answer such a child in a more direct manner; yet, with proper delicacy and reserve. For example, when the child is old enough to understand, parents might well begin with the beautiful narrative of the Incarnation and Birth of our Divine Saviour. The Scriptural story of the first Christmas at Bethlehem appeals to the mind of every child. And the part Mary and Joseph played in the birth of the Baby Jesus can be beautifully and effectively retold. As children grow older, more details might be added. Following this, the mother can proceed to tell her boy or girl how they too were formed.

Let us cite an example how other parents proceeded to impart this information. One mother informs us that she found the following method, taken from Good Housekeeping (September, 1911), quite satisfactory and helpful. To the child she spoke somewhat as follows: “Mother and father love each other very much. Where God is, there is love, and God wants little ones to be. Children are the special proof that God is love. When God wants to send a little child into a home, He fits up, just beneath the mother’s heart, a snug nest, not unlike the nests the birds live in. Then out of two tiny eggs the father and mother bring together, in the nest, a little child is hatched just like a little bird. But for months and months helives in his nest in the mother’s body. The mother knows the little one is there and loves him dearly. A part of all the food she eats goes to his nourishment. At last when the little one is too big to stay longer in the nest, the doctor comes and helps to bring him out into the world.”

One little boy who fearfully had asked his mother the question, and had received the above reply, hastened to ask: “That must hurt, mamma, does it not?” “Sure, my darling,” replied the mother. “Are you still mad at me?” “Mad?” replied the mother, as she warmly clasped the boy to her heart. “No, my dear, that was not your fault.

All mothers, except the mother of Jesus, suffer when their children are born. But they forget all their pains the moment they see their little ones. Now, darling, don’t look so sad. Smile and laugh again like mamma.”

The little boy did not laugh for a while. The thought that he had caused his mother pain, made him serious, and haunted him for hours. Later, when mamma kissed him good-night, the little chap flung his arms around mamma’s neck, saying: “Oh mamma, I love you so much more now than ever before.” “Yes, my boy,” she added, “these are holy things we talked about. Anything else you wish to know, do not go to anyone else, but come right to your papa or mamma, and we shall gladly tell you anything you wish to know.”

Such parents have won the undying love and complete confidence of their children forever. Such children usually grow up to be good sons and daughters; and nothing could ever shake their reverential love and their unlimited filial confidence in the future. Children from such homes will not come later in life, like the girl who was kept in total ignorance about sex matters, asking the question: “Father, does a girl become pregnant if she kisses the boy whom she loves?” Or: “Father, is it all right for a girl to give up her virtue to a boy she loves before she marries him?” and many other similar questions. Nay, but rather will good parents, who know their duties towards their children, inform them still further, as they enter their teens, of the fact that the knowledge of sex matters is not wrong. Only the abuse of such knowledge is bad.

Again, they will take the story of the Incarnation as their guide. When the Angel appeared to the Immaculate Virgin Mary, and told her she should become the Mother of God, she showed clearly from her answer, “I know not man” (that is: “I have not done what is necessary to become a mother”), that she was well informed on sex matters. And she was, no doubt, very young at the time when her parents, Joachim and Anna, imparted this knowledge to her. For she was probably only about 16 years old when the Angel appeared. And we do know that this knowledge did not cast the least shadow on her incomparable, spotless chastity.

Often when young people present themselves for holy matrimony, during the preliminary instruction preceding the ceremony, I frequently ask the question: “Did your parents or anyone else instruct you on the things young people should know before entering holy wedlock?” Repeatedly, the reply is: “No, neither our parents nor anyone else told us anything about our duties in this regard.” Such young people have never had explained to them the real meaning of the words repeated daily in the Hail Mary: “Blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus.”

Such parents are guilty of grave neglect. Following the example of Joachim and Anna, the parents of the Blessed Mother, it is the sacred duty of every parent to call son and daughter aside before they have reached the ages of twelve or fourteen, and especially before marriage, and explain to them the nature and purpose of the various organs of the body. Beginning with the various appetites of the senses, as they develop, the appetite we call “sex instinct” should be properly explained. And it should be made clear that this sex instinct is good in itself; that God has given it for a noble and definite purpose; but that it must be used only according to God’s plan and design.

Hence, it would be wrong to speak of it as being “bad pleasure,” or certain parts of our body as being “forbidden.” Jesus, when He became man, took to Himself a complete body, with all the organs of man. His Blessed Mother, too, had a complete body, with all the organs of a woman. Hence, no part of our body is “forbidden” or “bad.” God made them all. I should rather say, that certain parts of the body are “too sacred” to be trifled with-to be abused or to be talked about lightly. God could have created the bodies of every one of us, just as He creates every soul-as He created out of nothing our first parents, Adam and Eve, or as He created the Angels. But, by giving man these organs of the body, God made every man and woman a potential co-partner in His work of creating new human beings- creatures who are one day to fill the spaces made vacant by the fallen angels.

Here lies the tremendous responsibility of marriage. It is a partnership, not only between man and woman, but between a man and a woman and God. God is not mocked. Parents cannot leave Him out of the picture of married life. A terrible judgment awaits those who try to cheat God of His share in this partnership. And whoever assumes the responsibility of parenthood, must preserve the life of that child, both for time and for eternity. Parents have a sacred duty to teach that child how to preserve both body and soul pure and undefiled.

Conclusion:-And the easiest way to accomplish this is by leading the way through good example. Remember this point well: in parental teaching it is not so much what parents say, but what they are and do. There is a wise saying: “Parents may say what they please, but they thunder what they are.” What parents are may speak so loudly that children cannot hear what they say. Therefore, the best parents for training children in chastity, are the chaste parents who set the example first.”Verba docent, exempla trahunt.” “Words teach, but example draws.” Children see through their parents much quicker and better than parents see through their children. “Actions speak louder than words.” Hence, the father who says to his son “Come,” has some influence. But the father who says to his son “Go,” has much less influence.

I have the greatest sympathy for any boy or girl who may have made a mistake. For we never know how much of the guilt is due to the child and how much to the parent of that child. We know that Scripture tells us that the sins of parents shall pass on to the third and fourth generations. In like manner, we might say, the blessings of good parents pass on to their children and children’s children, even to the third and fourth and fifth generations. What tremendous powers and responsibilities, therefore, has God placed in the hands of fathers and mothers, for good or for evil! Truly, then, may every good father and mother address his or her children in the words of the noble Machabean mother, who spoke to her seven sons, about to be martyred, in the following terms: “I know not how you were formed in my womb; for I neither gave you breath nor soul nor life, neither did I frame the limbs of every one of you. But the Creator of the world, who formed the nativity of man” (11 Mach., vii. 22 sq.). Amen.

Nihil Obstat:

Artheu J. Scanlan, S.T.D. Censor Librorum.

Imprimatur:

@ Patrick Cardinal Hayes, Archbishop of New York, New York, September 28, 1935.

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More Words of Encouragement

NOTES OF INSTRUCTIONS DELIVERED BY REV. DANIEL CONSIDINE, S.J. ARRANGED BY REV. F. DEVAS, S.J

INDEX

FOREWORD

So widespread was the welcome given to the first series of WORDS OF ENCOURAGEMENT, so many were the expressions of gratitude, and so sincere the assurance of help derived from the little book on the part of men and women of different stations in life, some indeed not members of the household of the Faith, that I am asked by the . . . to read through yet more notes taken by various hands, of sermons and instructions delivered by Father Considine, with a view to reaping a second harvest and publishing a second series of WORDS OF ENCOURAGEMENT. This labour of love I have gladly undertaken, and successfully, in that with very little repetition, and that justified by slight variation in language and setting, I have been able to compile another book which will, I hope, be as widely welcomed as was its predecessor, and give to many souls that stimulating, sympathetic help which Father Considine gave so richly and so skillfully during his lifetime.

F.C.D

Don’t be Morbid!

THERE is a danger sometimes of a sort of Jansenism creeping into our spirituality, an idea that we must never be happy or satisfied unless we are unhappy. It is true there is a good deal of suffering in the world, but it is a pity to be looking in every hole and corner to find it. It is a mistake to think that every little accident and contretemps-even too much salt in the soup-is a design of Providence, specially brought about for the benefit of our souls. It is true that in the case of a few mystical saints God has sent very special trials, but as a rule, with those who are striving to serve Him faithfully, God’s direction is wonderfully mild. Don’t take it into your head that every little accident is devised for your special torture. It is a false, incorrect view to imagine that you cannot be pleasing to God unless you are always suffering. As a rule, the outward life of a saint is very much like everybody else’s. There are the contradictions that come inevitably. A good life is always a sort of reproach to those who don’t lead it, and that brings opposition. If we try to push forward God’s cause, of course the devil will try to oppose us.

Don’t let us think there is any virtue in suffering as suffering. Don’t be morbid! It was all in the day’s work in the case of the saints. Remember suffering was not intended from the beginning: there are plenty of things God permits but does not wish; certainly we should never be indifferent to the sufferings of others, but try to diminish them as much as possible.

JOYFUL SERVICE

St. Paul says, “Rejoice in the Lord always, and again I say, rejoice.”( 1 Phil. iv. 4.). If we want to serve God, joy should be not only an element; it should be the staple of our life.

Our difficulties are so great, our enemies so many, that unless we are supported by joy, we shan’t do what God wants us to do. It is a point of great consequence. There is a sort of impression that in the service of God there ought to be a certain sobriety, an earnestness-yes, sadness, which makes the distinction between the service of the world, and the service of God; and that those who serve God must expect more tribulation and uneasiness of mind. Entirely false. St. Paul, speaking under the dictation of the Holy Spirit, says, “Rejoice, again I say, rejoice.” If we think the ideal of a religious person is to be sad, it is quite wrong, it is the direct opposite to the truth. We are never so much fitted to cope with the difficulties of the spiritual life as when we are in joy. Often, when difficulties are to follow, God strengthens souls by an extra dose of joy. He expands the heart, and fills us with more faith and hope and love, and so makes us ready to overcome our enemies.

Read carefully the Acts of the Apostles: no one can read them without being struck by the spirit of buoyancy and exaltation that fills and pervades them; one might almost call it high spirits. The Apostles carried their lives in their hands; they were scourged, and came forth from their severe flogging full of joy, rejoicing they were found worthy to suffer for Our Lord. We certainly then can’t be doing wrong in making our lives lives of joy.

This matter bears on our daily life. Is this our view? We are so apt to think others have so much to make their lives happy. “They ought to rejoice.” The question remains: does God mean MEto rejoice in Him? Don’t evade the difficulty bysaying, “Oh, it’s some sort of spiritual joy which I don’t understand: ordinary joy I can’t feel.” “What is meant if not real joy, real happiness, and if you don’t feel the service of God produces this, there is something wrong with you.

It is a very common error-that God sends us trials for their own sake. Looking on pain and trouble as good things is not a sound view. It does us harm by making us think God takes pleasure in seeing us suffer.

The greatest possible happiness to be got out of life is in the service of God. God doesn’t like to see us cry, even though it is good for us. It pains God for me to suffer pain- that is a lovable and TRUE view of God. To think of the Passion as God heaping torments on His Son is Jansenist.

Taking our lives as they are, and being happy in them, is a true way to perfection. Very few crosses are DIRECTLY sent by God. God permits them, but they come from someone, or something else, or from ourselves- being disappointed in something we had aimed at. We should cut down our estimate of what God really sends us very considerably.

What does He want of me? He wants you to take your life as it is, bearing your trials and disappointments as quietly as you can. Empty lamentings over things not being as they ought to be, must be eschewed. The way to make things better is not to be doleful, but happy and cheerful. “Your joy no man shall take from you . . .” (I John xvi. 22). Our life is as it is: in that I am to find the material for serving God. Supposing even my trials are my own fault really-the results of my own actions staring me in the face. If I can’t put it to rights, let me be sorry for what is wrong and go on cheerfully. Start afresh. The service of God is from hour to hour and from day to day. If things are going contrary, it is a pity to be thinking we have great crosses and trials, and bemoaning ourselves: the way to do work for God is to be full of happiness. . . . No heart was ever so tender as the Heart of Our Lord; He couldn’t see a person weep without wanting to stop their tears.- Then how am I to account for my life being so full of misery ?-Is it all as I think? If the fault is in myself, it is hard to put it all on God.-You don’t think your temper, for instance, comes down straight from God?-God respects our free will. Should we like to be milksops in God’s service? One of Our Lord’s favoured servants prayed to Him to take away certain faults of temper in her Superior. “Not at all,” Our Lord answered her, “they are very good for you, and for her too. She is so sorry for them. I love her all the more.

We need not be dissatisfied because we have no special trial; bearing with our wretched bodies and souls is the staple of our service to God. “Traffictill I come.” (Luke xix.13). Bear the cross and all your difficulties well- don’t make much of them. We ought to be ashamed to run like children with a hurt finger for sympathy and consolation in every little trouble. God loves His own as the apple of His eye. Bear all then in love and patience for His sake.

We must get out of our heads the idea that we can only be religious by being miserable. If you will think of God as difficult and unapproachable,-if you are afraid of Him, and think He is high and haughty, and far away from you, you won’t love Him. One of the ruses of the devil, whenever we fall short of the highest standard, is to tell us: “You art not one of those chosen souls who are called to love God.” You must think of Him as one who knows our poor craven natures. He knows it all seems flat and monotonous, and that you feel weary of well-doing. It will all pass: Our Lord hasn’t abandoned you. Hold on-it will all come right again. When we are unfaithful, to believe that Our Lord will give us up, that is utterly false. We can never love Our Lord as we should, if we think He remembers things against us. Remember the way He behaved towards His Apostles.

LITTLE CROSSES

Suffering which comes to us from God is best; and that comes to us through our circumstances, our surroundings, ourselves, and those we live with: these come from God, being permitted by Him. They are the warp and woof of our spiritual life. Some big thing may come to us on Monday or Tuesday,and we say, “Oh, I took that very well, I am getting on,” but what about Wednesday, and Thursday, and the rest of the week? The spiritual life is a growth: we don’t grow on odd days. If you want to become solidly virtuous, your life from moment to moment gives you occasions of bearing lovingly for God’s sake any amount of suffering. People forget to sanctify the daily little crosses of life; they must be big and marked with a red cross, that we may recognise they come from God. But we can’t get away from these little crosses and mortifications, they are woven into our life-a clear sign they come from God.

Some one slights you, or speaks unkindly of you, and you get over it in a week, and think yourself very virtuous: God wants you so to overcome your pride that you should not be affected by it at all.

Do we receive crosses as a great deal less than we deserve? Do we take them in a spirit of resignation, and a sense of their justice? Shouldn’t we eliminate a good many altogether if we did this? Our limitations, of nature, position, intellectual gifts, are very real mortifications and crosses; but if we have some realisation of what we have deserved for our sins, we shan’t be lost in admiration of our patience, but we shall accept them quite naturally, and bear them as brightly and cheerfully as we can.

There is nothing so good for the education of character as having something to bear. It brings out all that is best in us. If I have all I can desire, excellent food and lodging, and no cares and anxieties, what is there to try my temper? What is there to admire in me, if I am amiable and cheerful under these circumstances? We admire those who, in spite of difficulties, bear their burdens cheerfully and unselfishly, thinking of others sorrows rather than their own. How then shall we carry out what we believe of the value of suffering into our daily life, and let it, as it ought, bring out what is great and noble in our characters? We must have a harder ideal, and profit by the difficulties of life. Wouldn’t it be well to act upon what we acknowledge in theory to be excellent? Our good God desires us to have happiness in His service. Often you will see that the heavier the cross, the lighter is the step, and the more cheerful the countenance with which it is borne. Why let yourself be so easily disturbed? What are you worrying about? You are not living with saints and angels, you are not one yourself. It is a blessing to be rid of the crosses coming from my own fault, but those that God sends, accept them gladly. God allows natural laws to create difficulties, and then helps us to overcome them. Have absolute confidence in God.

LESSONS FROM OUR LORD’S AGONY

To some of us will come at times some taste of that horrible perplexity Our Lord had in the Garden of Olives. At times it will seem almost impossible to do what we know God wants us to do. There was a moment when Our Lord seemed to waver and balance as to whether he would go on with His Passion. It must cost us something, if we mean to do something memorable for God. That is the time of the greatest anguish of mind, when we are balancing the question. Thereafter came that complete calm which Our Lord never lost during His Passion, save in that moment of His dereliction on the Cross.

The devil does his best to mislead us. He says, if you were able to do it, you wouldn’t have all this extraordinary difficulty. On the contrary, the disturbance comes from the world, the flesh, and the devil, and they wouldn’t make such a stir if the matter were not so important. Therefore, when we have to take resolutions which cost us much, let us look at the Garden of the Agony, and take comfort from Our Lord. And observe, all was in the natural course of events, God allowing creatures to work out their designs. We need not think He interposed to provide special ignominy for Our Lord.

As soon as the conflict had ceased, and Our Lord had fully accepted the sacrifice, He was perfectly self-possessed. Let us too be calm, and united with God, and that will give us strength to endure that suffering we had dreaded and shrunk from. To all outward appearances Our Lord’s life was a failure; so will it often be with us. Yet it is just then we are most like Him, and in our very failure will he our success in the sight of God.

Our Lord’s agony was an anticipation of suffering: especially helpful in these days, so full of subjective troubles. “My soul is sorrowful even unto death.” ( Matt. xxvi, 30). A sadness of itself such as to produce death. His soul, generally in such peace and calm, was taken possession of by suffering that was enough to take His life. What was the cause? The knowledge, the anticipation of His Passion. “He began to fear and to be heavy” (Mark xiv. 33.) -a sickness of heart- agony-fear. Jesus was mortally sad. This fact ought to be of the greatest comfort and consolation to us. To find a parallel to our sufferings in the Blessed Son of God! it is a lifelong asset of consolation that can’t be prized too highly. If that most perfect soul of Our Lord could, without grossest injustice, be so dimmed by sadness that there and then the soul might have parted from the body, what right have you or I to think our lot hard? Whatever our trial is, the thought ought to follow us all day, whether our trouble be physical or mental. When I am sad, I am only undergoing the same experience as my Lord and Master.

Much less is it wrong that I should undergo this sadness. It is the very best proof of love I can give Him, and if it knits me nearer to Him, I ought to look upon it as a gift from God.

There are so many of us over whose life hangs a continual shadow. Our lives wrecked-everything gone wrong-got myself into such a mess-impossible I can do anything for God. Jesus in that mortal sadness showed the depth of His love for us more than at any other time.

I am probably never serving God so well as when I am bearing the Cross, standing under its shadow. Some of us think that if we feel sad when we have something to do for God which is hard and unpleasant, we are doing wrong. If my sorrow comes from anticipated trouble, my Lord’s sorrow was from the same cause. . . . The devil likes us not to humble ourselves, because when the saints did it they were exalted as if they were walking on air. . . . When Our Lord came to gripswith His pain, He did pray, “If it be possible, let this chalice pass from me.” (Matt. xxvi. 39.). When we have no courage, the devil says go back. No; go on. It is nonsense to say the mortifications of the saints cost them nothing. To feel dreadfully afraid, and as if we cannot do what we have made up our minds to do, proves nothing. Remember Our Lord’s prayer. Finding Himself in this dreadful depression, He set Himself to pray, and cast Himself down on His face.

The repulsion was so great, it set up a kind of wrestling-a struggle, that brought a pressing of the blood from the veins in such abundance that it soaked His garments, and dropped on the grass. Some people think that the saints drank down pain like a sweet draught. A mistake. Our Lord shrank from the pain presented to Him. The use of the will had to be so strong that His whole Body was bathed in blood.

He began “to be afraid.”( Mark xiv. 33). Fear seized upon Him by His own permission. He was pale, and shudders went through His Body. There is nothing so terrible as to see a man afraid. They seem to lose the power of guiding themselves. It might have seemed impossible that Our Lord should have felt fear. If, with great reverence, we could watch Him-how He stoops for love of us! Learn from this that fearing our trouble is no sign of unfaithfulness to God.

Meanwhile He prays. His very trial consisted in putting aside the consolation He might have had. What makes our darkness so dense is that God does not let us have the consolations we had expected to feel in time of trial.

An angel appeared, strengthening and comforting Him. We come away from the Tabernacle perhaps without an atom of consolation or sweetness, but He always strengthens us.

No matter what sins you may have committed, He forgives you all; and no matter how late you come to His service; He will in one moment help you to amend the past.

THE VALUE OF MY LIFE

There is no such thing as “the world” to God. Each one of us is a world to Him. It is a common mistake not to think half enough ofourselves. To think of ourselves in “general” is an imperfect way of thinking. We each cost the Eternal Son of God His Blood. We are so important to God, we carry out His Will. In spite of my sins and imperfections, God follows all my history with incessant care and interest. What does it matter if in this year I am a little better or a little worse? In God’s eye a great deal. It is not only possible, but practicable, for us all to make a mark in Divine History. Acts of virtue, acts of love of Him will make me memorable for ever and ever. The thought of this, and the effort to fulfil it will colour my grey life, and make me ashamed if I dare to think it empty. My poor life is of the utmost value in God’s eyes. We must try to realise our nearness to God, and His claims upon us. One great privilege of the spiritual life is, there is no time in it. The intensity of an act needs no time, and one moment can hold more than ten years.

There is more danger of our not hoping enough than of our hoping too much. Don’t put your standard so low. If you want to go high, the higher the things you think God wants of you, the better. Breathe the air of God’s promises, and raise your hearts high. God wants a great deal of us. You have never hitherto believed that He really does. You say to yourself, if God wanted me to be a saint, He should have given me a very different character. Whether you are a Carmelite or living in the world, there is not the smallest difference in the love God wants of you. Hitherto I have not realised what God wants of me. The highest gifts of prayer, what are they compared with the gift of His Body and Blood! When He asks us to look up and see His face, we will look down. When He wants us to walk forward, we will shut our ears to His invitation. Difficulties will vanish at once if we can only bring ourselves to believe that God loves us so. Unconquerable Hope in spite of apparent difficulty. Don’t let your heart sink with the false feeling that “somehow God doesn’t care specially for me.” The saints combined humility with the unshaken belief in God’s great love for them.

THE SPIRIT OF PENANCE

We ought not to lose heart when we find there are plenty of occasions on which we might very well practise mortification-and don’t.

It is much better to take two eggs and say to yourself, “How unmortified I am!” than to take only one and wonder how soon it will be before you are canonised. Honesty is another name for humility sometimes, and if only you are honest, you’ll very likely get so thoroughly ashamed of yourself that you’ll get mortified and do with no egg at all. If you are dishonest with yourself, you’ll never get on: not to practise mortification, and then to find false reasons for our neglect, is bad.

Saint Paul said: “I chastise my body and bring it into subjection”(1Cor. ix. 27), but we should not be discouraged because we can’t carry out much bodily austerity, or think that on that account we can’t hope to get very near to God.

Self-mastery has no necessary connection with bodily austerity. What is wanted is the subduing of the spirit: the body counts for nothing. But if the body is a difficulty and a hindrance to this end, we must bring it into subjection.

When God wants great bodily mortification He makes a soul know it, and gives the desire for it so strongly that the soul would suffer more by not doing it than it does in the austerity.

You ask, then, is it possible for me to be a true servant of God without performing wonderful austerities? Yes, great grace is often given without great bodily penance: the Little Flower of Jesus is an instance of this.

If you don’t get what you desire in the spiritual life, it has nothing to do with your not fasting every day.

It is no small penance in these days merely to bear with yourself; and if you bear properly with yourself and with your neighbour, God will give you the highest graces. With yourself: nervous apprehension, variability of temper, depression, succession of moods-these have a great tendency to interfere with our peace, making us think we are vacillating in our love of God when that is not really the case.

Don’t be idiotic! When you have found this or that disturbance produced by a fit of nerves, don’t straightway fancy something is wrong with your soul. You are being carried away by false notions and making a great mistake if you think you can’t begood because you don’t feelgood. To feel “rotten,” and yet have patience with yourself, remaining quiet and keeping your recollection: to maintain evenness of temper; not to be influenced by changing moods; to be always serene; this is to practise real austerity and high virtue.

The feeling of depression, when all faith and hope seem lost, and we can’t do anything, is a great trial. But to endure it patiently is great virtue.

Read Saint Teresa with intelligence: she says the most trying part of sickness is the inability to fix our thoughts on God. But she says we must not let that matter: the important thing is to submit to the will of God, to accept our sickness with patience, and suffer for God even if we cannot keep our thoughts fixed on Him.

Indigestion, ennui, bodily weakness, are often more difficult to bear properly than bodily austerity.

Some people are impatient because they cannot go daily to Holy Communion. If you can’t go, bear the deprivation quietly for God’s sake.

And don’t talk to everybody about your health, and, above all, about your nerves. To hear some people talk, you would think they didn’t believe God knows what nerves are.

Accept your sickness from God, and in these black hours be very content to have Him and no other as a witness to your pains of body and of mind.

If you can’t do more than suffer in silence, be willing not to do more. If you know some one who acts in this way, you know some one who is very pleasing to God.

With your neighbour: most of us have a good deal to put up with from our neighbours, yet we generally forget what they have to put up with from us.

Still, we have difficulties even with very good people. They are not omniscient, they often make mistakes, and they treat us according to their ideas. It is part of the way in which God wishes to sanctify us.

Conceited as we are, we should be much worse if we were not corrected by others. There are many excellent parts in our characters, but some dreadful gaps. We are like trees that have not grown straight. If we would let Our Lord have His way, and bear with what He does for us through our neighbour, we should grow more symmetrical.

Why are we not more considerate? Why do we form such harsh judgements? Here indeed have we great scope for true austerity.

“ARE THEY NOT ALL MINISTERING SPIRITS?” (HEBREWS 1. I4.)

The holy Angels are our models. It would be an excellent encomium on our lives if we could claim some title to the name of ministering spirit. “Ministering spirits”-minister-what is a minister? One in a lower position, a servant. Our Lord said He had come not to be ministered to, but to minister; He had come to work Himself. The more blessed thing is not to have authority, but to be under others. When we arrange plans, somehow or other we are always leader in the work to be done. To be under others, working for others, is so much more pleasing to God.

I am put in the world to be a servant. So many of my troubles are concerned with what I consider my due: not to be under, but above. When we are out of humour, why are we distressed? Isn’t it often our wanting to be above others? We can’t admit that to ourselves, we don’t want it, we say, it must be so. We are meant to do work. Am I to be allowed to be head, or to work under others? When I am inclined to shrug my shoulders and say, “there’s no work for me to do,” what do I mean? Am I useful? What good have I done to others? This world is palpitating with misery and need of every kind. Am I one of the great unemployed in God’s service? Are there no broken hearts to bind up, no family difficulties to smooth over? I needn’t draw attention to myself-(though that’s the very thing I want). As to the humdrum work of every day,-not insisting on my rights, bearing troubles quietly, etc.-how much have I done? There is not much difficulty in finding people to do conspicuous work. Those who are humble bear God’s universe. I am intended to minister. God must choose my work, and He speaks by circumstances. We are surrounded by exactly the persons most fitted to enable us to work out our salvation, the path lies straight before us. Don’t try to be put forward, but do your work-nothing out of the common-well and cheerfully, and with thankfulness to God. . . . I must work in any capacity; if in obscurity, so much the better. Whatever our position, we are all ministering spirits. The angels always work, day and night: they watch all the incidents of our life, hear all we say, love us with a marvellous love, take the keenest interest in us, unselfishly, for their reward is only that we serve God better. Nor are they less zealous because of our ingratitude. Let us endeavour to imitate them by ministering. To anyone whofolds his arms and says “It is not in my line,” I ask, “What is in your line?”

If the Son of God came to minister, I should have thought we might find it a privilege to be allowed to minister in any form whatever.

HUMILITY

The only class who can hear themselves praised without satisfaction, or blamed without displeasure, are the saints. A saint with a habit of humility doesn’t look upon a slight with distress.

But we, who are not saints, or not yet saints, when we receive a snub are disappointed; we feel sore; that is inevitable, and we ought to accept it as our own normal position. Like our stature, we can’t alter it by “taking thought.” (Matt. vi. 27). Unless you are practically a saint, those feelings will come. You can’t help it. Of course, you can train yourself to mock humility. Accusing yourself of feeling pleasure in praise may be for your confessor to see what an elect soul he is guiding. You make a resolution: “I will never be proud any more.” And then you are miserable at a thought of vanity. Why are you so stupid? Of course, your resolution flies. I wish there were any recipe for thinking oneself into humility. God never finds fault with what we can’t help. I can’t help having the feelings, but don’t let me give way to depression in consequence. The feelings won’t harm me. Then, if I feel stirrings of jealousy, is it a conclusion that I am to remain in that condition? Bear the jealous feeling quietly, and by degrees that will make you humble. If you pretend you have no feelings, you are rebelling against facts, and that is only a continuance of pride. You are on the high road to humility when you confess to yourself that you are horribly jealous, and take it quietly. Be patient. You are so-a very great pity you are so- but be sorry; don’t get angry about it, accept it. Say, “If ever there was a more conceited person than I am, I am surprised.” I do think that if that advice was followed, people would begin to be humble. I quite agree with you, you are a mass of conceit, but bear it, be patient with it. You show you are very proud, because you are in such a hurry to be humble. Do you know if you were humble, you would be a saint? When you have done something particularly proud, leave it alone. Or something very gauche; leave it alone. The less you think on what you have said the better. The recipe is exceedingly simple. You’ll find the impression gradually deepening in your mind, what a conceited wretch I am! If you are sorry you have cut an unfavourable figure, leave it alone. If you brood on it you will soon feel, “I am not sorry because I have offended God, but because I have lost my selfrespect, or forfeited the good opinion of some one”; and that is neither contrition nor humility.

HOUNDS OF THE LORD -OR POODLES?

What are you doing for God? People examine their consciences at night to see if they have offended God. But have you loved God? served God? conquered yourself? helped your neighbour? “Oh no, but I have avoided distractions-and to do so I say as littleprayers as possible.” You have joined that Association for helping your neighbour? “Oh no, I find it distracts me, and gives occasion to me to go into a passion.” It is much better to do good, and be guilty of faults, than not to do good and commit fewer faults. St. Mechtilde thanked God for preserving her from the temptations to which the poor fathers who preached were subject. The saint had belonged to a great family in the world, and Our Lord said to her: “My daughter, you must have noticed, when your father’s hounds came in from the chase, how they were all covered with mud and froth, etc., and your mother would never have suffered them in the drawing-room. Yet poodles were there. Which of them were the better dogs? Which did the master of the house value most?” . . . Those who give themselves up to the service of God might well have contracted little stains, even mud, blood, etc., but they are of much greater worth than those who, sleek and clean, have been sitting at home doing nothing.

How shall we avoid an accumulation of debt for venial sin? A person who tries to work for God will have a much smaller debt than one who leads a negative, colourless life. What about sins of omission? What are you going to answer when you realise for the first time the good you might have done in the world, and have not done? Every one has his own place in the world, and acts and reacts on others: we are all members of one family. A sin of omission is not fulfilling that mission which God has given us to do. Remember the man who had only one talent and hid it in the ground. What a hard judgement he had! God has given us all a talent. You say you have nothing to do in the world? It is very odd that God should have put you here with nothing to do. You needn’t start another religious Order. There is always work to be done. You may be perfectly certain you are not in the world for nothing. If it’s only to make your home happy, and bear the trials God sends you,- that’s not only avoiding evil, it’s doing good. Am I growing into that stature God intended for me? That is a very home question for us all to ask ourselves. Why have I not exerted a better influence? Am I falling short of God’s purpose in creating me?

Venial sin makes the soul very languid. Rheumatism and gout don’t kill , but they make life extremely uncomfortable. When we have habits of venial sin which we take no pains to correct, exactly the same sort of effect is produced in the soul as rheumatism and gout produce in the body; they take the zest out of life. I am speaking of definite habits of venial sin. Our spiritual life flows sluggishly, and we find it difficult to move and progress. With toothache and earache you get angry and cross, not with people, but with the pain. In venial sin you won’t read “that pious twaddle,” find pious people bores, long prayers, meditation, impossible-why can’t they leave me alone! Some pronouncement of the Church or the Holy Father-that also annoys us, everything is wrong, because your spiritual blood is in a bad condition. We see things discoloured when in venial sin. There is no happiness in the thought of God. The truth is, you are not in a fit state to get good out of it.

INTERIOR STILLNESS OF THE SOUL

If God calls a soul to prayer, it more and more withdraws itself from the outer world. Even in the midst of outward stress there must be an interior stillness of the soul, where God dwells. . . . If you want the gift of prayer you must pay the price. You must possess your soul in quietness. If you set your heart on anything, it takes possession of you, you are penetrated by its atmosphere. The spirit of prayer withdraws us into the inner and secret atmosphere of the heart. A person may be exceedingly busy, yet there may be still that quietness of the spirit necessary to prayer. You need not give up the most troublesome and onerous line of life, but if you desire to set your heart on God, there must be quietness from the noise of the world. So will you be with God, and God with you. It is not impossible for a person to be apparently deeply interested in what is before him, and yet be recollected in God, for God is always with you, and if you will keep a corner for Him, He will be with you in a special way, and keep you in His presence.

It is not the solitude of the Himalayas that makes prayer. The essence of prayer is the company of Our Lord. The more we understand that He is everywhere present, that He is within us, that we are always in the presence of God, the more easily we pray. There is no peace of soul so great as that given by the thought of the presence of God. Whether you think of it or not, He is always there. If you want to learn, ask Our Lord to teach you to pray. “But who am I that I should ask so great a thing?” You are only one of those for whom Our Lord laid down His life, and of whom He is always thinking, day and night-to whom He gives Himself every morning in the Holy Eucharist. So I do not see where the impertinence of the request comes in. Ask Him: He will like nothing better.

WASTE OF TIME

We throw time away through want of order. When asked to do anything for God, or to make time for our spiritual duties, a visit to the Blessed Sacrament, for instance, we have no time, because we are stupid in the art of making arrangements. It is a great pity we have not more system in our lives.

How much time is lost in useless regrets; I have made a fool of myself -even done something wrong-wasting time instead of going back straight to God with an act of contrition. Never go back on the past. Don’t stop, thinking over something foolish you have done or said and regretting it. When a thing is done, let it be done. We are very poor creatures, and there is nothing so wise as to live in the present.

Another fruitful waste of time is daydreaming: holding imaginary conversations, or fancying ourselves in positions where we play a very satisfactory part. It softens the mind.

Another is fussing. Fussing never saved time. A very celebrated surgeon, on the point of performing a critical operation, is said to haveaddressed the students about him with: “Now, gentlemen, don’t let us hurry, because we have no time to lose.” There are some people who are never quite self-possessed-always in a flurry. You know the saying, “If you want a letter answered, write to a busyman.” These people hurry to Mass, hurry to meditation, hurry to breakfast, hurry all day long. A saint couldn’t remain a saint under those conditions. Hurry is an enemy to the interior life. The worst thing after sin is to have too much to do. Some day we shall say, “If only I had not lived in that continual fuss.” The saints lived large days. One characteristic of them is always calm and peace. There may be union with God in the midst of great distractions, but that is not the ordinary way. Don’t let it be said of you as of someone, “He seemed to have lost a quarter of an hour in the beginning of the day, and to be all day chasing it.” Before meditation, give yourself a moment’s pause. . . . God doesn’t cease to be in heaven because you have got a bad piece of news. You’ll never get great holiness unless there is calm: holy people are able to recollect themselves.

BECOMING SAINTS

The sad thing is, there are so many saints manquês. Our Lord longs for us to become saints. Visions, etc., are not necessary for sanctity. The impression that sanctity belongs only to a very small class is quite a mistaken one. . . . It is a great mistake to think that when Our Lord asks anything, and we don’t give it, He turns away and leaves us. In order to become a saint, it is not necessary never to make a mistake, never to keep Our Lord waiting. Sanctity is much easier than we suspect. People willsay, “it is not for the likes of me.” If people unfortunately won’t believe Our Lord wants their friendship, they tie His hands. “Of course, Our Lord can’t ask that of me.” Many would be quite willing if only they could bring themselves to believe Our Lord is asking it of them.

What makes a saint is a very tiny spark of the love of God. It suddenly strikes me that God really loves me, and that, if I don’t do that little thing, it hurts Him.

If you try to serve Him out of love, He puts up with blunders, sulkiness, frailties, etc. There are plenty in the world who’ll work out of love; many will do for another what they won’t do for themselves.

How long it took the saints to become saints! What disappointments they had! Yet every one was persuaded that Our Lord loved them. Never be afraid of desiring the highest graces. Even the higher kinds of prayer-there is no room for vanity-no one need ever know anything at all about it.

THE SHEPHERDS AT THE CRIB

Examine the conduct of the shepherds.

They were doing their work; they were exactly where they ought to have been. We shall not be asked if we were exalted or lowly, good-looking or plain, rich or poor. I shall be in congenial temper with God if I am doing the work God has given me to do. The shepherds” work meant a certain amount of hardship. They were inured to it, perhaps, but still it meant sacrifice, hardness of life. If our life doesn’t mean this, sprinkle a little of the salt of mortification upon it. Do I know what my work is, and am I faithful to it? And if hard, do I embrace it willingly?

Some people look for God anywhere but at home, in their everyday clothes and humdrum life. Every work we have to do is God’s. We quite forget, though God is in heaven, He is in my heart and soul, and as much in my kitchen as in my drawing room. Don’t let us dream our lives away, or wait for some great occasion of sacrifice which may never come. “Oh, if only I had the facilities another person has, what a wonderful person I should be!” A fallacy. Your sanctity consists in dealing with your present circumstances. Do those things which are close under your eyes and God will give you more to do. The saints became saints by using the opportunities which others disdain.

“God couldn’t have meant me to do such a work in my circumstances.” We can leave that to God quite safely, and if I allow Him to direct me, all will come right. To be willingly where we ought to be, attracts to us the invitation of Our Lord.

These shepherds were certainly not men of any mark or ability, nor out of the common outwardly. But they were, you may be sure, God-fearing men, striving to love God.

Otherwise they would have been scandalised at being called on to worship the tiny Child in the cold stable in the arms of His Mother. It is much easier to understand that the Magi could recognise Our Lord. But these poor shepherds rose to the great act of faith required of them, because they had already given their hearts to God. They were simple men. Are we simple? God resists the proud, and gives grace to the humble. He actually opposes the proud, drives them from Him. If we could see a material barrier round that Crib, we should see how we are prevented from getting nearer Him by-usually- pride. They saw the Divinity which their more learned countrymen could not see, because of their simplicity. The more we advance in the spiritual life the more we become as children.

Let us pray to grow in this simplicity and that desire to see Him which is the prelude to His coming. If we long, He will satisfy our longing. Wherever we are, God will come to us, if He finds us trying to be perfect. Desire Him to come as He has never come before. Offer Him the homage of rejoicing and offer Him your heart, desiring to be rid of your failings.

DISTRACTIONS AGAIN

What is a distraction? Those who understand what they are, don’t bother about them. (I am speaking, of course, to those who are really striving to serve God.) A distraction is a wilful turning of the mind away from God. If we are talking with some one, and we deliberately turn away and look out of the window, it would be a serious breach of manners, of which no well-bred person would be guilty. If we don’t do this with our friends, why should we do it with God? The fact is, we don’t.

I put down to these imaginary distractions the difficulty good people find in prayer. “How are you getting on?” “Not at all, father, my prayer is nothing but distractions. How can I pretend I love God? If I read a book, or talk to a friend, my attention does not wander.” Conversing with God is more difficult because you have not your senses to help you, nor an answering voice. But your distraction is absolutely inculpable, and does not interfere with the fruit of your prayer, unless deliberately, of your own accord, and when you can quite well do differently, you turn away your thoughts from God to something else. It is very unlikely any good person would do it. How much we are at the mercy of incoming thoughts! Sometimes we seem the centre of a whirlwind of thought we cannot govern. Most of our distractions are not distractions at all. I am talking of what is culpable in God’s sight. If you would only make up your mind that God doesn’t care twopence about them! Few things are so bad as to find so many excellent people put off by this snare of the devil. It is useful to learn how little control we have over our own thoughts.

If you have a great sorrow, or have received some injury, or some great temporal misfortune, I defy you to keep it out of your thoughts. Distractions are nothing to be afraid of. As you are outside the chapel, so you will be inside. You can’t believe our Lord is angry with you, because you haven’t a mind you can turn off and on at will. You can say: “Well, Lord, you made me so.” Our Lord is not angry, but I”11 tell you who chuckles in a corner if you let these distractions discourage you-Our Lord’s enemy. Don’t confess distractions unless you are absolutely sure they are wilful. Write off distractions permanently. At the same time remember there is nothing about which we should give ourselves so little quarter as wilful distractions. Any turning away of your heart from God displeases Him. Distractions don’t interfere with our union with God. Do you think when He gives Himself to you in Holy Communion that Our Lord inquires what we are thinking about before He will do us any good? And that you make a barren, profitless Communion in a time of great sorrow, or if your mind is full of some recent injury? “ I have been thinking of it all the time-what an awful sacrilege!” Not at all-you are acting in a human way, and Our Lord doesn’t care a bit about it. If your intention of serving Him is the same, you are praying all the time. Your love is shown by what you do.

SPIRITUAL PROGRESS

The devil puts it in the head of a fervent person, who desires to mortify such and such a defect, or to practise such and such a virtue! “You must do it always, and on all possible occasions.” God doesn’t ask this. Seldom is a great grace given so completely that coming into a room a monster of pride, one goes out of it a pattern of humility. He plants an acorn of humility in our hearts, but it takes time for itto grow into an oak. Gradually one’s whole nature gets leavened. Acting up to grace means doing what is easy at first-a little, day by day. But to say “I”11 mortify myself in all possible circum- stances-always sit up straight-tumble the mustard into the soup,” we can’t go on with it. Then the devil says, “I told you so, you can’t be a saint.” Do a little, and do it humbly, and God will help you to go from little to greater things.

You think you crave very much for God’s special presence; so I daresay you d o to a certain extent, but God is so generous, and wants us to love Him far more than we wish to love Him, and so it would be unreasonable if He refused us. But there is a want of preparation, a want of showing God our earnestness in the matter. A child wouldn’t understand what a jewel was; all “pebbles” to him. That we should appreciate the difference requires some knowledge. It is the same in the spiritual life. “I have been trying for these graces for years.” Are you sure you value them as much as you think? Have I that appreciation of God’s gifts, that longing for graces which shall make the practice of virtue easier, which I think I have? “The presence of God,” “prayer.” If God doesn’t give these, the only reason can be we are not fit for them. Quite a mistake to think that God picks out a small aristocracy of virtue. I don’t say He doesn’t give more to some than to others, but He wants to make saints of us all. “Be ye perfect as your Father in Heaven is perfect.” Be quite sure that he wants every one ofus to love Him very much. “Why I don’t love Him more is because I don’t belong to the select few.” Quite wrong. “Why am I not nearer to God? Why don’t I get as much help as others seem to get? I am a poor soul, and God has left me out, and I am to proceed at a jogtrot for the rest of my life.” It can’t be true. He laid down His life for us. “He that spared not His own Son, how shall He not with Him also freely give us all things?” He who became a little child for us can’t be so unreasonable that if we hold our hands out He will say, “Oh no! these graces are kept for certain people.” Supposing we start with a small stock, accept that grace, He’ll give you another. No one has any right to say, “for me sanctity is out of the question.” God is delighted to give any one of us what we need. The only thing He wants to do- He has no greater pleasure-is to give us His love. We shouldn’t approach Him in an indifferent way and say, “If you have anything for me this morning, I am willing to take it, but I don’t care very much about it. . . .” You should be greatly encouraged if you feel more and more that you want God. The more faithfully the obstacles are being removed, the nearer you get to Him, even as in approaching a fire you feel the heat increase. If any one can honestly say,-I do feel I want God more than ever before- I look back over twelve months, and other interests seem to have dwindled, and God’s interests have taken a larger part in my life-that is excellent. More independent of worldliness, seeing His will more clearly and the longing getting real-all excellent.

LESSONS FROM THE CROSS

“My God, my .God, why hast Thou forsaken me?” Our Lord was in great physical agony, and in great mental agony: in that desolation of body and soul when we should have expected His Father to come to His help. He generally comes to the aid of His saints in such circumstances. Our Lord does not call Him “Father,” but “My God,” as if God no longer loved or cared for Him-a mystery, but no less true. Solitude-or abandonment, with some souls this trial recurs-this awful wilderness. The nearer we get to God, the more we feel there is no one but Him. We must be severed from creatures if we are to get near Him. This severance is necessary if we are to get high in the spiritual life. Only one Being we love in the whole world-and that is God.

Every one had abandoned Our Lord. God doesn’t really forsake the soul, but for our training and discipline seems to. Our Lord prays, we ought to pray, though it seems as if we were praying to wood. Sometimes the darkness seems peopled with horrors: our past sins confront us, everything we have been taught seems a mockery. “Curse God and die.” That is the temptation to which we are exposed. Is it too hard to bear? Our Lord says, “Very well, if you won’t bear this little thing for me I must treat you as a child, and give you milk.” We must pray to God, and He will certainly come to our help. As He did to Our Lord, “Father, into Thy hands I commend my spirit.” The lesson to us is, if we want to love Him we must make up our minds there is no doubt about the suffering that will come. When it comes, don’t let us lose heart, or think because we don’t feel His Presence He is not there. Or cry out too soon, or think the trial is going to last for ever. How elseshall we get strong? Don’t we want to make some return to Our Lord? Surely we don’t want a life without any trials or troubles? Let us make ourselves very familiar with Our Lord’s Passion. We get much nearer to Him through faithfulness in times of stress and difficulty than through sweetnesses and consolations.

“Father, forgive them, they know not what they do.” Our Lord kept repeating these words- for His executioners, the priests and others who had compassed His death. What wonderful love-pleading for them. The reason- “For they know not what they do.” They did not know He was God, but it was their own fault. The prevailing sentiment with God is one of extraordinary indulgence. In spite of all our sins, Our Lord truly loves us. Throughout all we do there is that element of ignorance and weakness which enables Him to look pitifully on us and love us. Yet how many of us are saying, “He can’t love mequite sincerely. He can’t forget.” He makes such wonderful allowance for us-we don’t make enough ourselves. Even we, wretches though we be, if someone behaves very badly towards us, we entirely forgive. It passes out, not of our memory, but of our hearts. We shall never be on proper terms with God till we believe in His real love for us. He, knowing how difficult it is for us to be consistent and good, forgives us so absolutely. Don’t make the huge mistake of thinking it a virtuous thing to feel you can’t hope to be in God’s favour . . . you can’t have too strong a conviction of the infinite compassion of Our Lord.

LESSONS IN LOYALTY

The two disciples going to Emmaus are encouraged to open their hearts to Him. Our Lord deliberately, of set purpose, concealed from them who He was. He liked to listen to His praises from them, and practised a loving deceit on them. The disciples tell Him all that had happened and all they had expected. . . .”Those were our hopes, and it is all gone. And we, His followers, are all scattered, and we don’t know what to do. And there is an extraordinary sequence to this matter. Some women of our company say that they have seen angels in the Tomb, and the Body is not there, and we have been in sore trouble ever since.” Their hearts were so full, they have let it all out.

It is a great gift of God to be capable of a great enthusiasm. What are my ways of looking at persons and things? Although these two men had given up all hope, nothing would induce them to turn against Him. It might have meant serious trouble to them, but they were absolutely loyal. We may have hopes, well-favoured hopes, and yet they seem dispelled. Although correct in the main fact, they were wrong in the way they expected things to come about. And we make exactly the same mistake. We pray to God to help us, and we are good enough to point out to Him how it is to be done. Our way is probably a very bad way. He says, “Knock, and it shall be opened,” but He doesn’t say how. We may be quite right as to substance, but quite wrong as to means. When we pray for favours, I hopewe don’t find fault with God. We are very like spoilt children, and cry and think we have good reason to sulk when things go as we don’t like. It may be God does answer our prayers, and we don’t know it. You can’t lean too heavily on the persuasion that God will help you, but not that it is to be at sucha time and in such a way. Our Lord heard the disciples with the greatest delight. “0 foolish and slow of heart,” He began. That is the matter with so many of us-wanting to measure everything according to our own petty notions. If we had only a little quickness of heart and trust in God we should understand the Holy Scriptures so much better.”Ought not.” Ought not I so to suffer? Unfortunately, we so often go the other way. Suffering and glory are inseparable. What a privilege to have heard the Inspirer of the Scriptures explain them.

Meanwhile, it is near sundown. Our Lord makes as if He must push on. Another deceit on Our Lord’s part. Why did He pretend? In the language of love there are so many of these little devices. They constrained Him. You must stay and dine with us. As soon as He communicates them they know Him. Their hearts had burned within them-with love. So wonderful to hear His explanations. See, if you want to please Our Lord, how much He likes us to speak of Him. Love Him, want to do your best for Him. He doesn’t mind our stupid mistakes, our involuntary faults. Be sure He will make our hearts burn within us.

These men’s fears were by no means un founded, but they are so full of Our Lord, and the memory of His sufferings is so keen, they say it all out. Not a word in disparagement of Him. A lesson for us. As long as Our Lord gives us bonbons, and every one says how good we are, all is well, and wethink it a fine thing to be on Our Lord’s side; but when things go wrong it is a very different matter. They had had a stunning blow, and were dazed. Such a terrible catastrophe the world had never seen, nor will again. A young man cut off in the prime of life, under the eyes of His Mother, in such circumstances of pain and ignominy! They thought there was an end to all their hopes. So many times we have thought we were going to get a solution to our difficulties, prayer getting easier, and then, all seems to go back again, and we say, “We thought at one time Our Lord was going to give us this, and now-” At that very moment Our Lord was walking with them! How truly He may say to us, Fools, Children! not to be able to understand what is as plain as the sun at noonday. We don’t understand Our Lord has done for us what we asked Him. Because Our Lord does not grant our petition by the next post, He is not going to attend to us at all. “Oh, don’t ask me to pray. God never answers myprayers.” What idiots we are! No one has ever yet said a real prayer and not received an answer from God. It is giving God the lie to talk such folly. It is not even necessary to be in a state of grace to get an answer to prayer. Further, God desires to answer our prayer much more than we desire to make it. That kind of stupidity God doesn’t love. “Slow of heart,” He calls the disciples because they won’t trust in Our Lord. We tap very gently, and because the door is not at once opened, we go away and think union with God refused us. . . . Where has God said He will only hear the prayers of holy people? “Slow of heart” to believe God really does want us to be saints. He says He does; we say He doesn’t: which is likely to be right? If that sort of distrust is my habit of mind, my prayer is no use: it is all wrong. What Our Lord wants is for us to love Him. . . . They ought to have understood that Christ ought so to have suffered. We want virtue without trouble: to be humble without humiliation, sympathy with Christ’s sufferings without a finger-ache ourselves. Try and reconstruct your lives by the light cast on them by these sayings of Our Lord. It has all been a huge mistake. May you not say all those disappointments, all that apparent waste of energy, those contradicting circumstances-all are part of your discipline for eternity? Ought not that to have been? . . . Forgiven sin even may be a great help in the service of God. Your life has been as God permitted. There is no truth in talking of a life thrown away- marred-no truth in it. Besides, one minute’s sorrow will undo it all, and make you at the present moment very dear to God. Whatever has been, has been allowed to be, and will lead on to your eternal happiness. . . . They constrained Him. When Our Lord seems to refuse us a favour, constrain Him.

He can’t hold out, against the constraint of true love. Then He broke bread with them, and they knew Him, and He disappeared. “Did not our hearts burn within us. . . . ?”

SPIRITUAL PESSIMISM

One of the greatest hindrances to our spiritual advancement is the persuasion that for some reason or other God is not pleased with us. Most of us are pessimists in the spiritual life. We think “It would not be right for God to give me great graces; I have refused too many in the past.” Such thoughts are the work of the devil. God loves each one of us with such an intensity of love as it is impossible for us to conceive. He longs for our Communions, and misses us when we don’t go. There is nothing God does while we are in the state of probation, the object of which is not to bring us to love Him. He allows trials to come upon us for our greater perfection. It should be a source of great comfort to us to know that the circumstances in which we are placed are just those circumstances in which, out of the whole world, we can serve God best.

Do not be afraid of presumption. He says: “My arms are open; come near to Me.”

Always listen to the promptings of grace. When we hear an uncharitable criticism we often long to say: “I entirely agree withyou.” Remain silent. These small graces mount up and up. Our Lord says: “The first and greatest commandment is, Thou shalt love the Lord thy God, with thy whole heart, and with thy whole soul, and with thy whole mind, and with thy whole strength.” ( Matt. xxii. 38; Mark xii. 30.). Is it for us to throw doubt on God’s word? God intends us all to serve Him out of love.

When God wants a soul to come near Him He gives the invitation. He begins by giving the soul a desire to know Him, to love Him. If any one feels that desire, no matter how feebly, be assured it comes from God. He does not begin and leave His work unfinished. He will gratify the desire which He Himself has inspired, if we will but be faithful. Were He never to gratify us He would be acting like a mother who held a picture in front of her child, and whenever the child reached out for it, drew the picture away, merely teasing the child.

Do not say “All these years I have not served Him well; how can I now suddenly begin?” Time is nothing with God. Say rather, “He who has begun the good work in me will perfect it.”( Phil. i. 6.). Let us say to Our Lord “It is Thou Thyself, Lord, who hast made me want to love Thee. Do Thou who hast filled me with this desire give me greater love.”

HURRY AND WORRY

Many difficulties in the spiritual life are really created by ourselves. We worry and hurry and seem almost to think it a virtue to be impatient with ourselves. The best way to get something from God is certainly not to worry. Take things quietly: don’t rush. The saints did not become perfect in a day; it took them a long time to mould their characters on the divine pattern, and what work is so wearisome as work on our character! Yet they were not impatient; they were amazingly cheerful. They never said, “There’s no chance of my ever getting over this,” as we are tempted to. They knew better. Why is there no chance?

Doesn’t God love me infinitely? For im provement in the spiritual life we want a never-failing cheerfulness. Our Lord says: “Don’t worry; leave it to Me; serve Me; I will take care of you.” Isn’t it a pity you fritter and waste your time and strength. If a thing is to be regretted regret it; then put it away. Our poor little petty intellects and wills won’t bear dividing. What a pity not to live in the present; a tranquil sorrow for the past, good; but no anxious retrospection or anticipation.

Would it please you if your children were always doubting whether you were going to love them tomorrow?

The saints of God lived in the present; they did their best, and left it to God.

HUMILIATIONS

Take the cup of humiliations and drain it, and every sun that rises and every sun that sets shall witness a glorious life. We can’t help feeling the pain of humiliations; we can’t help feeling beaten and bruised and broken all over. That does not matter; what matters is that we harbour no bitterness, cherish no resentment.

People told shocking falsehoods about Our Lord, said that dreadful thing about His casting out devils through Beelzebub. These things wounded the tender Heart of Jesus, but He bore them patiently, without bitterness, without resentment, gladly for my sake. Remembering this, let me say to Him: “Dear Lord, when You find that I am very cowardly, very impatient, and I say” I can’t bear this”; “I can’t endure that”; don’t take me at my word; give me strength to bear and to endure; make me understand You better and love You more.”

A LAST WORD ON PRAYER

It is a horrible doctrine to say that God does not want to speak to your soul. Prayer consists in getting into communication with God in some sort of way. The way does not matter in the least, and the easier the better. If only you are in earnest, you will reach Him, for He is yearning to give Himself to you. Do not sigh and say: “If God would only show Himself to me!” He will; He wants to; He will let you touch Him, feel Him, taste Him.

SHORT SAYINGS

Is it the pure love of God that makes you anxious about your prayer? Or is it only the desire to be saved trouble? Or, I have a faint, far-off suspicion, has it something to do with humility? Why can others pray with such facility and not I? Leave others alone and you will soon learn to pray.

Some people’s one preoccupation- obsession we might call it-seems to be the fear that there is something they have forgotten and which God will spring upon them at their judgement. Where do these terrors come from? This contraction of the heart? This distrust in God’s goodness? St. John says:” Perfect love casteth out fear.”( 1 John iv. x8.). And Our Lord used to say: “It is I; be not afraid.”( John Vi. 20.)

Religion is not a question of perpetually avoiding something. Yet there are those who seem to think the essence of the spiritual life consists in examining their conscience, always thinking of their past, and having a catalogue of their sins ever before them. They take the last gleams of hope out of their unhappy souls and make of their spiritual life a perpetual shuddering. But Our Lord was gentle with His Apostles, and they with all their faults were never uncomfortable with Him. To avoid sin, do good.

God judges us not so much by details as by the whole, the purpose of our life. To be drifting, to have no settled aim in life, is unsatisfactory for everyone: working nothing out, ending in nothing. Everyone ought to be living, working, for something. What are you at?

The nearer a soul gets to God, the more it loves to dwell on Our Lord’s Human Nature.

Like a sponge plunged into the ocean, so must you lose yourself in the Sacred Heart of Jesus, that the waters of love may surround and deluge your soul on every side.

The love of God can fill your heart.

LAUS DEO SEMPER

First published: August 1934 Over 100,000 printed ********

Mortal Sin And How To Avoid It

BY REV. WILLIAM P. O’KEEFE, C.M

INDEX

Few souls are so completely debased, so sunk in sin, as not to desire something to shed their bad habits and lead better lives. God’s Mercy follows ever the most errant of us, ever urging us on to better things, even working in us what is good, ever striving to save us from ourselves. We may dim the light of conscience in our souls, and become progressively unresponsive to the invitations and urges of grace, but only in Hell is there utter darkness and no grace; while we live there is always a real possibility and hope of conversion and salvation.

God does not quench the smoking flax, nor crush the bruised reed, but by the gentle breathings of His Holy Spirit continually tries to fan the embers of the sinner’s will into glowing once more with the bright flame of divine Charity. It is of vital importance that these visitations of God these promptings of grace, should be used by the sinner. “God is not mocked” indefinitely and with impunity. If, when the hour of eternity strikes, the soul should be found in sin, God’s Justice will exact a frightful restitution of His glory. “The Lord, Who is a strong avenger, will surely repay.” (Jer. LI, 56).

“God beholds thee individually whoever thou art, He calls thee, by thy name. He sees thee and understands thee, as He made thee. He knows what is in thee, all thy own peculiar feelings and thoughts, thy dispositions and likings, thy strength and thy weakness . . . He sympathises in all thy hope and thy temptations. He interests himself in all thy anxieties and remembrances, all the risings and fallings of thy spirit . . . He compasses thee round and bears thee in His arms, He takes thee up and sets thee down. He notes thy very countenance, whether smiling or in tears, whether healthful or sickly. He looks tenderly upon thy hands and thy feet; He hears thy voice, the beating of thy heart, and thy very breathing. Thou dost not love thyself better than He loves thee.” (Newman, Parochial and Plain Sermons, Vol. III, p. 125).

God has given us a striking proof of His concern about us as individuals by providing us with the confessional, where our souls are cared for and treated separately and singly, where we can get personal advice on how to order our lives, and where remedies and measures adapted to our special needs are indicated to us. The surest way, therefore, of fostering the promptings of grade is to have recourse to a confessor, and to pour out our soul to him in a humble and docile attitude of mind. His advice and guidance, being personal, will be of the highest value, and by putting it into practice we are assured of victory over sin. Pamphlets or books cannot take the place of a spiritual guide, because they cannot visualise all the variety of individual circumstances. At best they will prepare the way for the confessor or director, by treating of the more common aspects of human conduct, thus allowing him more scope for his personal and more valuable contact.

If there is one person more than another for whom the personal counsel of a confessor is necessary, it is the sinner of long standing, the man who has been perhaps years away from the saving grace of the Sacraments, sin-sodden, and temperamentally befouled by all sorts of bad habits. Nevertheless, to advise such a penitent is a most delicate problem. He may come to confession from very varying motives and in widely different degrees of repentance. The sudden death of somebody dear to him may have recalled him to a sense of duty; the wise advice of an intimate friend may have awakened his hope and allayed his fears; the kindliness of a good priest may have attracted his confidence; the moral crusade of an organisation such as the Legion of Mary may have conquered his obstinacy in evil and moved him to see what a confessor could do with so difficult a problem as he believes himself to be . . .

The variety is endless, and it is because the responsiveness of the penitent is so uncertain that there is a real problem for the confessor. Like Christ, His Master, the priest is desperately anxious to win back this soul, to restore this lost sheep to the True Fold, but he can do little without some modicum of co-operation on the part of the penitent; and the more good-will and desire of self-help the latter brings, the more real aid and valuable advice will he take with him from the church.

With some penitent—a confessor can work wonders, because he has their complete co-operation; I with others, who receive his advice sceptically and half-heartedly the results are discouraging both to priests and penitents. As in the struggle against bodily ill-health, so in the struggle against the ills of the soul, the Morale of the penitent is of greatest importance. “Be of good heart,” is Christ’s advice to the sinner who has aspirations to repentance and conversion. If the penitent has confidenceand courage, if he hopes firmly in the power of God’s grace, and give no place to the sinister and insidious suggestions by which Satan tempts him to despair, he will do well, just as a patient who has the “will to live” and confidence in the skill of his doctor will triumph over the sickness that would bring death to one less courageous and trustful. The confessor may have to ask for drastic sacrifices, just as the doctor may have to apply very radical measures of surgery, but in each case, if the penitent or patient corresponds with a courageous confidence, the remedies are rendered far more potent.

Nothing gives such consolation to a confessor as to meet a genuine penitent, who has a real and sincere desire to repair the ravages that sin has wrought in his soul, who will spare no pains to get rid of evil habits, who will contribute complete cooperation to his confessor’s efforts to help him. The effects are in a sense—cumulative. The confessor cannot help giving of his very best when he finds a soul receptive and sincere, and the penitent can not but be spurred on to still greater efforts by the personal, eager interests of the confessor.

A penitent will help himself immensely by preparing his mind and his will for this contact with his confessor; his mind, by reading enlightening spiritual books suited to his state and his religious education, and his will, by prayer, acts of Contrition, Hope, Humility, Love of God . . . The present pamphlet is written to provide some such mental help for the intelligent individual who has been careless of his religious duties for a long time, but is now desirous of improving his life. He realises the folly of his ways, and wants to make every effort to free himself from the morass of moral wretchedness and sin in which he has lived. He knows that in order to foil the enemies of his soul he must encourage the movements of grace and try seriously and sincerely to change his ideas of happiness and his outlook on things: in a word, he wants to make a success of his repentance Firstly, we shall deal more or less theoretically with three fundamental spiritual facts: Sin, Our Confidence in God, Our Debt to Christ, and from these it is hoped in the second part of the pamphlet to draw some very practical and direct conclusions.

SIN

The foulness and odiousness of sin can be realised only when one has acquired some previous knowledge of God and His lovableness. In the sense of the original Greek word, METANOIA, repentance means a change of mind, a new outlook on the world, an after thought. Having put himself and his own pleasures first for so long, the sinner is now going to change that attitude thoroughly and put God first. Failure, sin, moral death comes when the creature is put before the Creator. Every good thing, grace, new life, is given with the return to God. “ Seek ye first the Kingdom of God and His Justice, and all these things shall be added unto you.” (Matt. vi, 33). Let us try then to get some idea of what God is, so that we can truly grasp what sin means, and what sad consequences it must imply.

We do not always appreciate the difference between God and other things. In a sense, we think of Him as if He were in line with creatures the most perfect, and first of all, of course, but somehow continuous of what He has made. Now creatures, it is true, have a certain goodness and desirability, but- here is the important point- they have received it from something else; they can change and lose whatever appeal or goodness they may happen to have. But God, on the other hand, is very different: He is perfect, all perfection, and cannot receive or lose in any degree whatsoever: He is quite free from all change.

Think of the beauty of a smiling landscape, with the morning sun shining peacefully on the swaying meadow-grass, and the tall trees whispering in the wind; think of the beauty of a child’s face, radiant with the flush and bloom of youthful happiness; think of the beauty of a young mother as she fondles her babe, and sees the first light of recognition awaken in its eyes; think of the beauty of a strong, vigorous man pulsing with life and energy, thrilled with the joy of power and firm purpose. All these are most beautiful things undoubtedly; yet each is beautiful in a different way; each is partly beautiful. Think now of Beauty Itself, with no shadow or limitation, no sign of change in it, sheer unqualified perfection completely selfcontained: that is God, incomparable, “above all, blessed for ever.” And from Him, Who is Beauty, comes all the limited beauty of creatures.”God is all in all.” “What hast thou that thou hast not received ?” (I Cor. IV, 7). No wonder He cannot abdicate His sovereignty and cannot allow Himself to be put after anything else. “I will not give My glory to another.” (Is. xlviii, 11).

God is in Himself all that is good and beautiful; He is, moreover, the source of all our being and of the being of all things, He has given us whatever we are and continually keeps us in existence; what a frightful folly it is, therefore, to give to some creatures, or to our own base pleasures, the love, service and concern that should be His alone. We recognise to a certain extent the relative values of things about us, but we fail to see their true value. Perhaps an example might make the meaning more apparent. We find a man, for instance, who lives to prevent the wastage of water. A terrible experience in a tropical desert has unhinged his brain. All his time, all his energy, goes to the problem of saving water. The friends of such a one soon have him put away in safe custody, lest he should fall into some greater extravagance. They realise that water is only one of the things of life, and that not all of living consists in conserving or using it. Yet men can stand by calmly at the sight of far more madness, far more awful lunacy, that puts the creature above the Creator, and sets a greater value on the relative than on the absolute.

Let us try to look at the world from God’s point of view. All the loveliness and order in creation come from Him, and, because He is infinitely wise, He had some wonderful purpose or plan in view to which all things contribute in varying ways. In cooperating with God’s eternal plan each creature works for its own highest good. No man alone on this earth can go against the will of his Creator. All things else fulfill the wise designs of God through a blind necessity. Man alone is given the intelligence to understand the purpose of his existence, and the will to seek freely, and to love, the good for which God has destined him. But where all else is so wonderful, man wreaks ruin. Would a rose wilfully reject the beauty of its form, and the richness of its perfume? Would a noble tree deliberately renounce the lordly sweep of its limbs and the soft sighing of the wind in its foliage? Would some beautiful and comely maiden destroy the charm and perfection of her features except in a hysterical frenzy, when reason and free-will have deserted her?

Yet sin is just such a repellent disorder. It is the destruction of the beauty of the soul of man, the renunciation of man’s greatest good. The gifts of heaven are trampled in the mire, and the God-like spirit of man is enslaved to bestialities and foulness. The noble mind, that might enjoy the vision of God, prefers the transient things of time. The wondrous will, that might freely enter into harmony with the Will of the Creator, rejects this for the discord of self-defilement. The Blood of Christ, fellowship with the Mother of God and the angels and saints, all the happiness of Heaven, and the peace and calm of godliness are set aside for the ordure of earth, the wild desire of degraded pleasures, and the tormenting quest of Godless joy. And to think that this madness should be willed by one in the full possession of his faculties; that this suicide of the soul should be carried out quite callously! What a shameful use of the glory of intellect and free-will! Thought willfully warped to embrace falsehood, and the will deliberately embracing evil!

Surely sin is the greatest evil, and as God is the greatest good there can be no compromise between the two. By sin the soul denies in effect, and despises the sovereignty, truth and goodness of God. If God were not so completely independent, the sinner would completely destroy Him, just as sinners put Him to death, when He took human form and lived on earth. The sinner is his own and God’s enemy. As sin is so opposed to God, He must withstand its antagonism with all His infinite power. He cannot parley with it for an instant.

Think therefore, of the awful plight of the sinner who dies unrepentant. The day of unchanging eternity dawns, the hour of justice and finality strike and he is found wanting. He has refused to cooperate in God’s plan, he has received his life in vain; sin-soiled and rebellious as he is, he cannot be received by his Creator. Up to this moment he has received nothing but love from God, now he will begin to feel the full, fierce force of God’s anger. In this life men may reject God, preferring the shadows of His goodness and beauty which are tobe found in creatures, but when “the shadows pass” and the soul stands, a complete failure, before its Maker, the true nature of sin will be seen in all its hideousness. Cursed by the good God, condemned to the outer-darkness, where there is not even a faint ray of God-light to cheer it, the soul experiences a sense of pain and loss that we cannot comprehend in this life.

Here on earth we have all about us the created images of God’s beauty and goodness, that can give us very real satisfaction and pleasure, even should we be so degraded as to prefer them to God, Who made them what they are. In this life sin can give some happiness, for we are surrounded while we live by the love of God and the good creatures of His kindness. In Hell there can be no happiness, for the hour of God’s Love has passed into the hour of His Justice. The unrepentant become outcasts from the Source of all Good, and whatever they will find in Hell is either an enemy of God or the instrument of His avenging justice. “The worm dieth not: their fire is not extinguished.” (Mk. 1, 43). Let us recall that the rich sinner in Hell had not even one drop of water to moisten his parched lips. (Luke xvi, 24). When God is finally lost, any happiness becomes impossible. Surely, if we grasp the notion of what God is, and that all the goodness and loveableness of creatures come from Him, we shall begin to realise the malice and evil of sin. We shall shudder at the mere thought of Hell; we shall spare no pains to avoid its avenging fires and the blank hopelessness and helplessness of existence cut off from the Creator’s love and mercy.

The pleasure and joys of sin are very immediate and tangible; its heineousness and harsh consequences lie below the surface and are not very apparent in this life. Similarly, the gain that virtue implies is seen only on calm reflection. Conversion from a life of sin is frequently retarded by the false idea that it brings only loss of happiness. Yet, when a doctor puts a dyspeptic person on a diet, and forbids him the use of many of the enjoyable delicacies he had indulged in, the latter accepts the doctor’s verdict, believing that by the sacrifice of immediate pleasure he will be spared ultimate pain, and come to a state of well-being that will bring him a more abiding happiness. So also the sinner that can enter into a deep consideration of the truth of God’s supreme value, will do himself untold good.

When it is seen that God is all, the sacrifice of any creature becomes relatively easy, because the reward is found to be far greater than the sacrifice and to contain the very good that is renounced. The sinner will have something positive for which to struggle, and the renunciation of worldly, sinful, joys takes on a new meaning, viz, that shadows and dreams are sacrificed for substance and reality, and permanent happiness ensured through passing by what is only perishable.

OUR CONFIDENCE IN GOD

The second fundamental truth the sinner should try to fix in the forefront of his mind is the difference between God’s attitude towards sinners in this life and His attitude towards them in the next life. Our existence on earth is essentially a time of progress to a goal; eternity is finality and changelessness. All God’s decrees in our regard while we live are directed towards making it possible for us to fulfill the purpose for which we were created. Even if we have sinned, we can approach Him with absolute confidence. When we think of His infinite holiness and of our own sinfulness, we may feel inclined to say with St. Peter: “Depart from me, for I am a sinful man, O Lord” (Luke v, 8), but nothing could be more fatal than to believe that while we live oursins are an insuperable obstacle of God’s love for us. The opposite is the case. The Good Shepherd goes after the lost sheep, and our attitude should be one of unbounded trust in His goodness, the attitude of the poor publican who prayed: “O God be merciful to me a sinner,” the attitude of entire submission, of confident surrender. “I say to you, this man went down into his house justified rather than the other; because every one that exalteth himself shall be humbled, and he that humbleth himself shall beexalted.” (Luke xviii, 14).

As for motives to inspire such almost presumptuous audacity, they are to be found in abundance in the New Testament. It was to save sinnersthat God became man. “I am come not to call the just, but sinners.” (Mt. ix, 13) “This is a faithful saying, and worthy of all acceptation, that Christ Jesus came into this world to save sinners.” (I Tim. i, 15). Christ was such a particular friend of the publicans and the sinners that the Pharisees took scandal at the fact. “As He was sitting at meat . . . behold manypublicans and sinners came and sat down with Jesus and His disciples.” (Matt. ix, 10). “Now the publicans and sinners drew near unto Him to hear Him. And the Pharisees and the Scribes murmured, saying: This man receiveth sinners,and eateth with them.” (Luke xv, 1–2). In the parable of the Prodigal Son, Christ revealed with astonishing force the goodness of God towards sinners. We need not dwell on the parable here beyond stressing that although the young wastrel had dissipated entirely his due part of the inheritance, yet, when he returned in complete and abject surrender, his father met him even before he had arrived home, and ordered the best in the house to be provided for him. This is Christ’s revelation of God’s dealings with sinners. How can we doubt His love, or feel uncertain of His welcome for us?

Consider Christ’s kindness and patience with the sinful woman whom He met at the Well of Jacob, how He fostered every tiny spark of goodwill and every little spiritual aspiration of hers until she came to the acceptance of the truth, and left her waterpot to go into the city, there to spread abroad the wonderful joy of soul and peace of heart that had come to her with the knowledge of Christ (John iv, 5–29). Or take His gentleness with the adulterous woman. He saved her from the justice of the Jewish law. Without any condemnation, but with consummate compassion, He urged her to amend her ways and avoid sin in the future (John viii, 3–11).

Apart from His Mother, the most faithful of all His friends was the sinner, Mary Magdalen. Her lifestory begins: “And behold, a woman that was in the city, a sinner . . .” (Luke vii, 37). She, in whom seven devils had dwelt, was the object of His special affection (John xi, 5), sat at His feet, heard His divine lips speak of Heaven (Luke x, 39), and at the end stood by His Cross on Calvary (John xix, 25). She was a witness of the glory of His Resurrection before the Apostles themselves, and was made the apostle of this good news to them (John xx). Her sins had vanished in the ardour of her love of God, as the snows of winter melt in the warmth of the summer sun. “Many sins are forgiven her because she hath loved much, but to whom less is forgiven, he loveth less” (Luke vii, 47).

It was not without meaning that at the head of His Church He placed, not the loved disciple, the virginal and faithful John, but the weak and sinful Peter, who, in the very night of his First Holy Communion and of his Ordination swore again and again: “I know not the Man.” (Matt. xxvi 72, 74). To point the moral for us, He had the evangelist tell of Peter’s bitter tears of repentance, and of the three-fold protestation of love, by which Christ made him expiate his triple denial (John xxi, 16–17)

“As long as we are here below, God in His eternal kindness never ceases to call us . . . But let us not be of those who by the continual squandering of grace and the habit of deliberate sin even though slight, harden their hearts to the point of no longer comprehending . . . Let us take care not to drive away the Holy Spirit from the temples of our souls by wilful and obstinate resistance. God would leave us to our blindness . . . Mercy is never lacking to a soul; it is the soul that closing itself against mercy, provokes justice (Dom Columba Marmion)

OUR DEBT TO CHRIST

As a third lever by which to raise ourselves from the degradation and shame of sin to the happiness of holiness should be placed a love and appreciation of what we owe to Christ. He has lived and died for us, He has instituted the Church with all its powers of sanctification for us.

By his sin, Adam had lost the supernatural treasurers of grace, free gifts of the divine liberality, not due to man in any sense whatsoever. Adam, moreover, was utterly powerless to regain them, since he could perform no act adequate to satisfy for the infinitely grave outrage he had offered to God. Christ, however, redeemed us, not merely by paying what was due to the divine justice, but- to show us how completely we should give ourselves to God—He paid superabundantly for us. He won a plentiful redemption for us, so that we can now attain to even higher holiness than was possible for Adam. “For if by one man’s offence death reigned through one (Adam); much more they who receive abundance of grace . . . shall reign in life through one, Jesus Christ.” (Rom. v, 17). “So that nothing is wanting to you in any grace.” (I Cor. i, 7).

And let us remember particularly that this wealth of blessings was won for us not by the mere good-will and wellwishing of Christ, but by the outpouring of His Blood, by His Agony and Death. It must never be forgotten that Christ is a real man. He actually loved, hoped, was indignant, sympathised, suffered, was sad and even wept as other men. Too frequently we accept His Redemption of us without counting what it cost Him, just as we receive the other great gifts of God with little appreciation of the love from which they spring. Christ’s suffering, His very Real Passion, is the boldest stroke of the infinite Mind of God to prove to us how realis God’s love for us. “God so loved the world, as to give His Onlybegotten Son.” (John iii, 10).

God in His human nature would really suffer and die, to show us how really we are loved by Him, and how we are to love Him in return. “That the world may know that I love the Father.” (John xvi, 31) Sin, of course, is a very complex problem and deeply mysterious. Some people are shocked to think that God would create a being capable of rising up against Himself, as if free-will meant only the power to commit sin. God, however, gave us freedom as a wonderful power of entering with knowledge and love into His divine plans. He knew we could and would misuse it, but He did not desire that misuse of our freedom. Our free co-operation would glorify Him in a special way. Now God is keenly concerned for our good: He will not lower us to the brute level by compelling us to serve Him, by destroying our free-will. He wants us to come to Him to glorify Him, by love. And this it is that gives us the reason behind the Passion and Death of Christ, to draw us by loveto God. “And I, if I be lifted up from the earth, will draw all things to Myself.” (John xii, 32).

By thinking of what Jesus has done and suffered for the love of us, we can readily convince ourselves of the infinite interest that God has in our welfare, and of the infinite tenderness and mercy with which He regards sinners that come to Him. If there is any short cut to sanctity, it is a particular devotion to the Passion of Christ. “If any man will come after Me, let him take up his Cross and follow Me.” (Matt. x, 24). By entering into a union of mind and heart with the dying Saviour one will find newness and fulness of life in His Death. The more we come to perceive that the sufferings of Christ were real and for us, the more we shall be moved by them to make some return of love. Hence meditative devotions to the Passion, such as the Stations of the Cross, are of the greatest value if they are used properly, that is if one does something more than to go through an external routine of vocal prayer, genuflection, etc.

The Passion is intended to move the minds and wills of men. Think of the sadness and anguish of Gethsemani, of what Jesus suffered in being delivered to His fierce foes by the traitorous kiss of a friend. Try to enter into His feelings as the soldiers crown Him with thorns, spit on His Sacred Face, mock Him; realising that this savagery is wrought on God; that this is the proof of the antagonism between Sin and God. Tread the path to Calvary, bearing the Cross with Christ like another Simon of Cyrene, offering Him compassion and comfort like another Veronica. Stand by as they nail Him to the Cross, and remember that it is sinthat nails down God’s Hands and prevents Him from giving us of the riches of Heaven. Know that the Feet of the Good Shepherd had grown weary walking the world after the straying sheep until sin alone had held Him and bound Him “fast” to the Cross.

There is another aspect of Calvary which is most valuable for strengthening the repentant sinner. The Passion, as Christ’s Sacrifice of Himself, is an infinitely powerful prayer for sinners. Now that Christ has taken on Himself all sin, and prayed to God for all sinners, there is absolutely nothing that the Mercy of God will not grant those who repent. Short of destroying our free-will He gives us all the help His Omnipotence can devise. He loves us so much that He still leaves us free; but as a result of Christ’s Passion-Prayer, once we begin to move away from sin, we can be completely confident that we have all the power of the Almighty God behind our efforts. It is well worth while recalling, too, that the same Jesus Christ, Who died for us on Calvary, rose for usfrom the dead, and ascended to Heaven “that He may appear now in the presence of God for us.” (Heb. ix, 24).

This is the reason of the particular power that devotion to the Passion has of bringing sinners to sanctity. Through union with Calvary they go by the most direct route to the Heart of God, for it is as the divine Victim that Christ sits at the right hand of the Father. Christ “hath an everlasting priesthood, whereby He is able also to save for ever them that come to God by Him: always living to make intercession for us.” (Heb. vii, 24–5). We have “a confidence in the entering into the Holies by the Blood of Christ; a new and living way which He hath dedicated for us through the veil, that is to say, His flesh, and a high priest over the house ofGod.” (Heb. x, 19–21). The only thing we have to fear and mistrust is ourselves. We possess, alas, the power of continuing in sin, but any help that God can give us to rise above a life of sin is most certainly available for those of us who want to receiveit. “Seek and you shall find, knock and it shall be opened to you.” (Matt. vii, 7).

Christ in his kindness left us some very special and potent ways of entering into vital union with Calvary and of participating in the blessings He won for us there. These means are all bound up with His institutions of the Church to carry on His mission of saving sinners. “As the Father hath sent me, I also send you.” (John xx, 21). In order that every man should have individual care and help, Christ delegated His own divine powers to the Apostles, who before they died passed them on to others, and thus down the ages through the bishops and priests of the Church we are linked with Christ. Unfortunately, however, the mistaken notion that human authority is more for the condemnation and crushing of abuse, than for the furtherance of the well-being and good of the subject, is too often applied to the Church.

But let us remember that the mission and purpose of the Church is one with that of Christ. As He came to save sinners, so is the Church particularly concerned with restoring to sinners the treasures of grace which they have lost. If the Church condemns error and sin, the condemnation is Christian and with the mind of Christ. Her denunciations are so many invitations to sinners to return to the true fold, to come back home, where a welcome awaits them as it awaited the Prodigal, the Magdalen, and the penitent and tearful Peter. When the sinner comes back to the Church he comes to Calvary, to that place where Death is conquered in Death, and the dead rise with a new life from the graves in which they have been entombed for years. The Church has all the inestimable and unlimited powers of holiness that the Saviour won by His life and death. She brings real, efficacious aid to those who turn to her. She looks at them not with the pharisaical eyes of pride, scorn and harsh bitterness, but with a surpassingly sincere sympathy, a touching tenderness, and a charity that holds the Mercy of God.

The supernatural helps that sinners will find in the Church are the Christ-given Sacrifice and Sacraments. Calvary is more than a date in the history of the world. It is a central point about which the life of every man must revolve. Jesus therefore set aside in regard to it all the ordinary laws of space and time that cut men off from the great facts of history. He would have it renewed mystically in every time and in every clime that human beings are found. Hence before He died He gave His Church the Holy Mass, through which we may stand by His Cross, through which we may be one with Him on Calvary not alone in spirit and thought, but vitally and effectively. And furthermore, because the Holy Mass is one with Christ’s Death prayer for us, the benefits to be drawn from it are beyond measure. They are not limited by God, but only by the dispositions in which we assist at Mass: we draw from it in proportion to the faith, love and desire of sinlessness that our souls bring to it.

The Sacraments that our Saviour left the Church are certain specialisedaids to enable us to fulfill God’s plan in us. By Baptism we are raised above the low level to which we had sunk as a result of the sin of Adam. By Penance we are freed from our personal sins, and given personal advice on how to regulate our lives. Confirmation strengthens us to prefer and profess Christ before the world. Our human love and our family life is made a sacred and holy thing by the Sacrament of Matrimony. When sickness and the hand of death lies heavily on us, Extreme Unction removes the last traces of sin and energises our failing will-power. The administration of the benefits of the Redemption is entrusted to certain chosen ones through the Sacrament of Holy Orders. Finally, supremely, in the Most Holy Eucharist, the Sacrament, Christ Himself comes to each human heart to link it to Himself by a bond of boundless love. The saving graces of Calvary are thus brought into contact with every part of our lives. In them we have a further proof of God’s intimate interest in human nature. “For God hath not appointed us unto wrath, but unto the purchasing of salvation by Our Lord Jesus Christ, Who died for us: that, whether we watch or sleep, we may live together with Him.” (I Thess., v, 9–10).

In the Sacrifice and Sacraments of the Church we have most powerful weapons in our struggle against sin. These are the means appointed by God to be used by men, and the prayer of Christ is the guarantee of their efficacy: He has merited on the Cross that they should be effective for their purpose. But, let it be repeated, we must use them with the proper dispositions. They will not destroy our free-will, but will help us most wonderfully to use it properly. In proportion as we strive sincerely to fulfil the Will of God, so shall we draw from the Holy Mass and the Sacraments the benefit and help that Christ merited for us.

SOME PRACTICAL CONCLUSIONS

GOD OR CREATURES?

As our first consideration showed, sin is a wrong use of free-will and contains the false judgment that a creature could be preferable to the Creator. Now when a false judgment linked with a rash love of something has gripped a person, the position will not be remedied by mere reasoning. Argument alone will not convince a love-sick youth of the folly of being in love with somebody quite unsuited to him. Similarly, to convince himself of the truth of God’s supremacy will not remove a drunkard’s thirst for strong drink, nor quench the flame and ardour of sensual desire in one addicted to the vice of impurity. There must be a direct approach as a complement to the directness of reasoning and logic. What would one prescribe to cure a love-sick youth of his unhappy affection? One would try, of course, the direct method of argument and reasoning, but additionally, one would advise him to remove as completely as he can from his life whatever his associations with his lady-love so that to forget would become correspondingly less difficult. Secondly, and almost equally important, one would suggest as an outlet for his thwarted, emotional energies, that he cultivate some healthy, active interests, suited to his temperament and circumstances, some sport, perhaps, or some hobby, or a friendship with some more suitable person.

On the principle that grace does not change or mutilate nature, the same approach would be most helpful for the sinner, particularly, I should say, for the drunkard and the sensualist. Omit no effort to try to realise that God contains eminently all the good that is in any creature, but use also an indirect method of self-help. In the first place, then, fly from temptation, and do not dally with it. Avoid the companions that experience has shown to be dangerous stay away from those places in which you have frequently fallen into sin before. There is no point in taking unnecessary risks. Secondly, cultivate some healthy interests, even if these be only on the natural plane. The converted sinner must put something in his life to take up the time and attention given to sin.

A drunkard, for example, who would take on a little gardening, a little amateur carpentry, or the decoration and improvement of his home, will be far more likely to make a success of temperance than one who just mopes around aimlessly. And interest that is both spiritual and material would be of the highest value. Such would be to join an active group or society devoted to some phase of Catholic action, such as the Society of Saint Vincent de Paul or the Legion of Mary. The benefits to be gained by membership of such societies are not always appreciated to the full; it is too often forgotten that the primary purpose of such groups is the sanctification of members.

Membership of one of these bodies will give the ex-sinner something to occupy his time. He will be encouraged and heartened by the good example of his fellow-members and the special concern of the spiritual director. His work will bring before him the harm wrought by sin and the folly of feckless impiety, and—because one can see things more clearly in the lives of others than in one’s own—he will perhaps realise his great dangers, and through zeal to benefit others, feel urged to try to give them good example in his own life. If “idlehands tempt the devil” in us, well-directed, interesting and useful activities will help very considerably in exorcising him, and in nullifying his influence on our lives and characters.

CONFIDENCE NOT FEAR

Nobody can fail to draw the obvious lesson of unlimited confidence from our second consideration on God’s attitude to sinners. The practical forms of this confidence may not be seen so clearly. How does confidence affect one in the natural order? Firstly, it should think, it banishes excessive fear, and secondly, it makes one proportionately optimistic about the results of one’s endeavours. It is very important for one who is fighting against evil habits, the heritage of sin or ignorance, to mistrust his own weakness, but it is also extremely needful that he should fully realise that all his sincere efforts to rise from his sins are powerful with omnipotence of God. “God is faithful, Who will strengthen and keep you from evil.” (II Thess., III, 2). “My dearly beloved . . . with fear and trembling work out your salvation, for it is God Who worketh in you . . . And do ye all things without murmuring and hesitations.” (Philipp. II, 12–14).

It is a principle in psychology that every vivid idea tends to reproduce itself in action. Now the two great forces that make our ideals vivid are love and fear. It is easy to see what an impetus to activity love gives, but we tend to forget that, by a strange paradox, fear moves one to perform just what one is afraid of doing. One could walk easily enough along a plank laid on the ground; but suppose the same plank were laid across a New York street from the top floor of one skyscraper to that of another, would the normal person be able to walk across it? Not very likely. In all probability, after a short distance his nerve would fail him, and panic would be followed by despair and finally destruction. His vivid idea of falling would sway him even involuntarily off his balance.

The parallel holds to a certain degree in the spiritual life also. One must fear oneself, so as to take normal precautions and reasonable measures against sin, but there is no need to be overanxious. It is time enough to greet trouble when it comes, without creating panic and despair by visualising difficulties that may never materialise. To conquer any such pessimism one should, firstly, try to realise its futility, and recall the tremendous motives for confidence that we have in the Mercy of God, and in the Life and Death of Our Divine Lord. “Be ye strengthened in the Lord and in the might of His power.” (Eph. VI, 10).

And secondly, one can do much negatively by disregarding whatever craven fears and temptations to despair may arise—not indeed by trying to banish them, or by trying to forgetthem, but by going one’s way irrespective of them and with the least possible concern about them. Here also some suitable occupation will be of great assistance in distracting the mind Take for example’s sake the individual with a morbid fear of ghosts, who has to travel along a lonely country road at night. If he swings along, singing a song, perhaps, or whistling some rollicking air, he may succeed in overcoming his nervousness, but if he attends to his fear he is heading for trouble. Brooding continually on the past is likewise foolish and depressing. Let the dead past bury its dead. The future it is that contains new life, and one has more to gain by cultivating the forward, robust, cheerful optimistic outlook of youth, than the backward, clouded, despondent mentality of old age, that lives in the past. “Forgetting the things that are behind, and stretching myself forward to those that are before, I press towards the mark.” (Philipp. III, 13–14). “Unless you become as little children, you shall not enter the kingdom of heaven.” (Matt. XVIII, 3).

Let the atmosphere of the mind be radiant, happy in being forgiven, glad with confidence in the power and grace of Christ, rather than gloomy, dismal and unhappy from excessive preoccupation with one’s sins and one’s weakness. “Have pity on thy own soul, pleasing God, and contain thyself. Gather up thy heart in His holiness, and drive away sadness far from thee. For sadness hath killed many; and there is no profit in it . . . Pensiveness will bring old age before the time.” (Eccli. XXX, 24–26).

GRACE FOR THE TAKING

There should be no difficulty in drawing a practical lesson from our third consideration on what Christ has done for our spiritual welfare. If we have entered properly into this thought we shall have awakened in us a great love of our suffering Saviour, and a desire to prove the reality and sincerity of that love of true repentance, and by ready, Christ-like acceptance of the sorrows and trials that may come to us. Particularly should here be enkindled in us an appreciation and love of those means by which we can participate most directly in the fruits of the Passion i.e.; the Holy Mass and the Sacraments.

If used in the right way, these are our most potent weapons in the warfare against sin. Firstly, then, we should hear holy Mass as reverently and as frequently as we can, trying to unite ourselves with Christ, the High Priest as He offers Himself on our behalf to the Eternal Father. Sinners, empty-handed, we stand before God, but we have complete confidence in Him, our Spotless Victim, our All-Holy Priest, Whose sacrifice- that is also ours—is most pleasing to the Father. In the second place, we should frequent the Sacraments of Penance and the Most Holy Eucharist. Both are most important if we wish to foster and promote the true well-being of our souls.

In the tribunal of Penance we shall receive Pardon of our past lapses, grace will be restored to the soul, and we shall be given valuable, and perhaps necessary, advice that our spiritual condition suggests. If we hate sin we shall not have to be urged to avail of opportunities of being absolved from its foul stain, and when we come to regard the priest as Christ’s mouthpiece to speak His helpful words for our individual souls, we shall listen to his counsel reverently and attentively. We shall strive harder than before to put it into practice, realising that it is guaranteed by Him, “Who of God is made unto uswisdom, and justice, and sanctification, and redemption.” (I Cor., I, 30).

As regards the frequent reception of Holy Communion, who can doubt its value against the diseases of the soul? It is the Sacrament of spiritual nourishment, the divine Bread our souls need to preserve their spiritual energy in the journey home to Heaven. It will repair in us the lesser defects and damage that we have suffered on the way; it will strengthen us for the conflicts that lie ahead, while at the same time helping to make life’s journey easier by increasing our love of the things of God. It is a Holy Communion with God, that fills us with the happiness of loving and being loved. “He that abideth in charity, abideth in God and God in him.” (John IV, 16).

The Fathers of the Church teach also that Holy Communion brings a lessening of concupiscence, a tempering of the bodily passions, and a tendency towards peace of heart. The young, therefore, and all those in whom the fires of passion and sensuality burn strongly should make a special effort to practice frequent Communion. They have need of great stores of spiritual sustenance, and all they have to do is to “come and take.” “Come to Me, all you that labour and are burdened, and I will refresh you.” (Matt. XI, 28). “All you that thirst, come to the waters . . . Come ye: buy wine and milk with money and without any price . . . Hearken diligently to me and eat that which is good: and your soul shall be delighted in fatness.” (Is. LV, 1–2).

CONCLUSION

Such then is the outline of progress from sin to salvation. It is only a very sketchy and rough diagram, for the details are filled in with as many variations as there are souls.”To every one of us is given grace according to the measure of the giving of Christ.” (Eph. IV, 7). We have, in a sense, to do very little—just to be sincere, courageous, hopeful, persevering- and the power of Christ, the Strength of God, will make us mighty against all the forces of evil. If we turn to God, He will draw us to Himself. “And may God supply all your wants, according to His riches in glory in Christ Jesus.” (Philipp. IV, 19).

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OLD TESTAMENT SERIES No. 4.

Moses—The Man of God

FATHER FELIX. O.M.CAP., L.S.S

INDEX

INTRODUCTION

We left the House of Jacob happily situated in Egypt under the protection of the Patriarch Joseph, but at the beginning of the Book of Exodus a sad change has come about: “there arose a new king over Egypt that knew not Joseph.” (Exodus 1, 8). There is much meaning in that phrase knew not Joseph, as the context shows. A new Egyptian dynasty is in power, and a new policy in force. The Hebrews who had been protected and favoured formerly are bitterly persecuted now, and viewed as aliens and enemies by the ruling powers. In a word, the invading liyksos have been expelled; the native Egyptians have recovered possession of the Delta.

THE PERSECUTION

The opposition to the Hebrews was cleverly organised, and the persecution cruelly carried out. Pharao first stirred up the racial prejudices of the Egyptians. Then he imposed forced labour on the Hebrews, appointed Egyptian taskmasters over them, and thus reduced them to slavery. Pithom and Ramesses, two “cities of tabernacles” (Exodus 1, 8.), i.e., cities containing storehouses for food and munitions of war, were built by the Hebrews under these circumstances. To slavery was added the malignant hatred of the Egyptians, expressed in mockery and open insults. Then when the Hebrews only increased in numbers under the persecution Pharao ordered that all Hebrew children, of the male sex born thenceforth should be drowned in the river Nile.

MOSES

A husband and wife, named Amram and Jochabed, of the tribe of Levi, had a daughter, Miriam (the original Hebrew form of Mary), and a son, Aaron. A second son was born to them after the edict of Pharao. He was “a goodly child” (Exodus 2, 2); and natural affection prompted the mother to risk defiance of the cruel edict. She hid him in her home for three months, but it was impossible to continue the evasion. Then she devised a bold plan.

“She took a basket made of bulrushes, and daubed it with slime and pitch; and put the little babe therein, and laid him in the sedges by the river’s brink, his sister standing afar off, and taking notice what should be done” (Exodus 2, 3–4).

It cannot have been by chance, that the basket coffin was put at the very place in the Nile where the king’s daughter came to bathe, and in such a position that it attracted her attention. The princess sent one of her maids to fetch the little ark. When she opened it and found within an infant crying, her best human feelings were stirred and she determined to save the life of the infant, although she knew him to be a Hebrew. Miriam, who had been anxiously watching the whole scene, now came forward, and offered to find a Hebrew woman to nurse the child. The princess agreed, and the girl went at once to bring her mother. So the child was reared by his own mother until he was old enough to be admitted into the royal house of Pharao; and then he was accepted by Pharao’s daughter as an adopted son. She named him Moses. The sacred writer says expressly that he was so called because he was taken from the water (Exodus 2, 10), thus deriving the name from the Hebrew mashah, ‘to draw.’ Originally, however, the name was Egyptian, and probably means ‘the infant.’ There is no contradiction involved; for primitive peoples a proper name is never without a meaning, and the Hebrews would naturally seek a derivation of their own for the Egyptian name, Moses.

From his Hebrew home Moses brought religious zeal and sympathy for his own people, while at the court of Pharao he received the best administrative, political and military training of the time. In this way did divine providence prepare him for the arduous mission in front of him. Moses fills a triple role in Israel. A Prophet filled with the spirit of God, whose compeer Israel has not seen for the familiarity with which God treated him and the marvels which he wrought (Deuteronomy 34, 10), he enriched the religion of ancient Israel with new and decisive revelations; a political genius of the first order, he grouped together tribes till then with no great cohesion and made of them a solidly organised people; lastly, he was a legislator of broad views, the promulgator of a law which in its essential content kept its value intact until the mission of Israel was accomplished.”

CHAPTER I. THE EXODUS FROM EGYPT

(Exodus 2, 11–18, 27).

Moses grew to manhood in royal surroundings while another generation of his people groaned in servitude: He saw their sad condition, and his sympathy with them grew. When he was forty years old he saw one day an Egyptian taskmaster beating a Hebrew worker and he could restrain himself no longer. Seeing no one near he thought himself unobserved, so he attacked and slew the Egyptian and buried the corpse in the sand. On the following day, however, when he tried to make peace between two Hebrews who were quarrelling, one of these taunted him with the killing of the Egyptian. Whether the Hebrew on whose behalf he had intervened had told, or another whom he had not noticed, the affair had become public. Pharao soon heard of it, and Moses had to flee to save his life. He went to Madian in Arabia, where he married Sephora, the daughter of Jethro or Raguel. They had two sons, Gersam and Eliezer. Moses spent forty years a shepherd with Jethro.

THE PHARAO OF THE OPPRESSION?

“Now after a long time the king of Egypt died.”

(Exodus 2, 23) .

This text has a close bearing on the question of the date of’ the Exodus. Reigns of longer than forty years are few.

In fact in the eighteenth and nineteenth dynasties of Egypt (and the Exodus falls in one or other of these for a certainty) there are only two such reigns; Thotmes III, of the eighteenth dynasty ruled for fifty-four years, and Rameses II of the nineteenth dynasty for sixty-six or sixty-seven years. From the numbers in the Bible the Exodus would seem to be dated at 1449 B.C. But biblical numbers are a subject for textual criticism; and on the other hand scholars differ as to the dates of the dynasties in Egypt. Consequently we have no certainty: A first opinion was strongly in favour of Rameses II as being “the Pharao of the oppression,” and his succeessor Meneptah I “the Pharao of the Exodus.” Later, opinion shifted to Thotmes III and his successor Amenhotep II, the fourth and fifth Pharaos of the eighteenth dynasty. But in recent times there is a reaction to the old Rameses-Meneptah theory.

THE BURNING BUSH

At all events that Pharao died-be he Thotmes III or Rameses II-from whose displeasure Moses was an exile. After which when Moses one day led his sheep as usual to the mountain range called Horeb he noticed some distance away a bush burning but not being consumed; and he went towards it to seek an explanation. It was a miracle; and God spoke to him revealing Himself as the One True God, Who had spoken to Abraham, Isaac and Jacob. Moses was commissioned to return to Egypt and to lead his people to freedom and to the conquest of the land of Chanaan. For all his preparation Moses was diffident of himself. But God assured him of His divine protection; revealed to him the Divine Name-Yahweh; promised to endow him with miraculous powers, that his words would be divinely inspired, and that Aaron, his brother, would be given to him to support him in his mission. Moses then bade farewell to Jethro and with his wife and their two sons set out for Egypt.

Moses found Aaron, and together they went to Pharao and demanded that the Hebrews be allowed to go a three days’ journey into the neighbouring Arabian desert-there to offer sacrifice to God. Pharao refused. Then Moses and Aaron organised the people into making a united demand. This only enraged Pharao; and he retorted by oppressing them still more. The people now complained bitterly against Moses. He had recourse to God; God assured him of success and sent him back to Pharao-this time with power to work miracles. But again his mission was a failure : “Pharao’s heart was hardened” (Exodus 7, 1.3).

THE TEN PLAGUES

To vanquish Pharao’s obstinacy God visited Egypt with ten plagues each of increasing severity. First the water of the Nile and of its tributaries, lakes and cistern was changed into blood. The second was a plague of frogs; the third of mosquitoes. The fourth plague of flies, and the remaining six plagues differed from the first three in that they did not affect Gessen where the Hebrews lived. At the fourth plague Pharao was thoroughly frightened, and he began to offer concessions. He would allow the Hebrews to offer sacrifice but in Egypt. Moses refused this condition because, he pleaded, they must sacrifice animals which the Egyptians held sacred. Pharao surrendered, and promised to allow them to go three days’ journey into the desert if only the plague would cease. But when Moses removed the plague Pharao broke his promise. Then followed promptly the fifth plague of a murrain among the cattle of Egypt; the sixth of boils on men and beasts; the seventh of thunder and lightning, and hail, which killed men and animals, and destroyed herbs and trees. Again Pharao surrendered, but only to relent as before. The courtiers intervened now, and Pharao was forced to recall Moses and Aaron. He offered this time to allow the men of the Hebrews to go; but the women and children, the flocks and possessions were to be left behind. Moses rejected this condition. The eighth plague of locusts resulted only in another broken promise. from Pharao. After the ninth plague of darkness he was willing to allow the people to go, but not their flocks and herds.

THE PASCH AND THE TENTH PLAGUE

The tenth plague-the death of the first-born of every family in Egypt from Pharao’s to the least of his subjects- was the most appalling of all; and it broke down finally the king’s resistance. Very special preparations were made for this visitation. God commanded that in each household of the Hebrews a lamb was to be killed, roasted whole, and eaten without the breaking of a bone. The day was appointed-the fourteenth of the Hebrew month, Nisan. With the lamb were to be eaten bitter herbs (symbolical of the bitter persecution they had endured in Egypt), and unleavened bread. They were to eat standing, with their loins girded and staff in hand-this and the unleavened bread were symbols of hasty preparations for a journey. The blood of the lamb was to be sprinkled on the lintels and doorposts of the Hebrew houses. At midnight the destroying angel passed through Egypt and slew the first-born in every house which was not sprinkled with the blood of the lamb.

The same manner of killing and eating the lamb with the same ritual was appointed to be observed annually on the same date (14th Nisan) . The festival was called the Phase or Pasch (Passover).

THE EXODUS

Pharao now summoned Moses and Aaron and bade the Hebrews depart; while the Egyptians, terrified by the plague, urged them to go speedily and presented them with gold and silver vessels and clothing. Seventy persons of the House of Jacob had come to Egypt; now after 430 years they had increased to about two millions.

Led by a miraculous pillar of cloud by day which at night became a pillar of light the immense multitude took their journey from Ramesses to Soccoth. From this their natural route would be due eastward, but under divine guidance they went southward instead of Beelsephor. By this time Pharao had perceived to his intense disappointment that they were not returning to Egypt. He located their position, and with his army set out in pursuit. “Humanly speaking, the Israelites were lost: before them to the south rose Gebel Attakah; from north and west came the Egyptian army; on the east was the Red Sea.” They fully realised this themselves, and bitterly reproached Moses for leading them into a death trap. All this, however, was designed to make the miracle of their rescue the more impressive. Moses stretched his hand over the Red Sea. The water divided, and a passage was made through the sea for the people. Meantime the pillar of cloud moved to the rear of the Hebrew host giving them light but keeping the Egyptians in darkness. When all the Israelites had crossed safely to the other side the Egyptians followed in pursuit. But when these were between the divided waters Moses stretched forth his hand again. The sea flowed hack; and Pharao and his army were drowned.

The journey was now southward along the Arabian shore of the Red Sea; to Mara, Elim, and on to the desert of Sin. Here the people murmured again, and God sent them quails for food and also miraculous bread which they called manna. At Raphidim Moses struck with his staff a rock of the Horeb range of mountain, and water came copiously to relieve their want. Here also a new obstacle appeared: the Amalecites, a wild desert people, attacked the Hebrews. Moses appointed Josue to lead the fighting men while he with Aaron and Hur went to the crest of a hill in full view of the battlefield to pray for victory for his people. The Amalecites were routed. Jethro came to meet Moses here, and advised him on the manner of organising and ruling the people.

MIRACLES

In the attacks made by the rationalists on the Catholic doctrine of miracles generally these miracles of which we have just been treating received special attention. A miracle is an extraordinary occurence, perceptible to the senses, wrought by divine power outside (i.e., beyond or above) the ordinary natural laws. To argue that a miracle is impossible because it would denote a change of plan in the divine mind shows a wrong idea of a miracle and a wrong idea of God. A miracle is not against the ordinary providence of God-it is above or beyond it; and God is a free agent, eternal, omnipotent, unchanging. Miracles are part of the plan of this order which unfolds itself successively in time to us, but which is foreseen in its entirety to the infinite wisdom of God.

As to the miracles in Exodus in particular: in the Sinai peninsula of Arabia there is a natural effect produced by climate, sun and wind combined, which at a distance resembles a burning bush. In Egypt the Nile rises yearly and floods the Delta country, the water becoming a reddish brown from the mud which is carried in solution. This mud in turn when deposited is a breeding-ground for frogs, mosquitoes and flies. Then there is the Egyptian khamassin, a hot wind from the desert which brings sand and causes dense darkness. Natural manna is found in Arabia, and water is found under rocks in the most unlikely places. Hence, it is argued, the events above are natural events used by Moses for his purpose.

Such argument not merely ignores but goes directly contrary to the text and context of the biblical narrative. The Red Nile appears yearly in July; Moses turned all the waters of Egypt into blood in February. From the Burning Bush God spoke to Moses and confided to him his mission-a mission which not only was he not expecting, but was very slow to undertake. The plagues began and ceased at the command of Moses. The manna was provided in great quantity at the prayer of Moses when the people required food. That these miracles reproduce certain features natural to the countries where they occurred is part of the divine economy of miracles: “An additional recommendation of the Scripture miracles is their appositeness to the times and places in which they were wrought; as, for instance, in the case of the plagues of Egypt, which . . . were directed against the prevalent superstitions of that country.

CHAPTER II. MOUNT SINAI AND THE LAW

(Exodus 19–30; Leviticus; Deuteronomy 5–30).

Three months had passed since the Israelites quitted Egypt, and now they were at Mount Sinai. Through Moses as mediator God proposed to make a solemn covenant here with His chosen people; and the people agreed. Three days were spent in religious preparation; and on the morning of the third day thunder, lightning and dense clouds on the peak of Sinai proclaimed the presence of God to the awe-stricken multitude in the valley below. Moses went to the top of the mountain to hear the divine instructions.

THE DECALOGUE

The law given to Moses is very extensive and detailed, but at the outset a summary of the whole moral code is given in the Ten Commandments. These contain the primary precepts of the natural law; they answer to the purpose and needs of man’s rational nature; consequently they can no more change than human nature can. Our Lord renewed them in the Sermon on the Mount: “Do not think that I am come to destroy the law, or the prophets. I am not come to destroy, but to fulfil.” (St. Matthew 5, 17). What Our Lord did was to interpret them more clearly and more fully. The ten commandments direct human conduct in our relations with God, ourselves, our fellow-men. Thus, they are the foundation of true piety, of civic peace, of social order and of domestic harmony. “They have always been esteemed as the most precious rules of life and are the basis of all Christian legislation.”

With the ten commandments Moses, under divine inspiration, gave the Hebrews many laws which are a development of the moral code contained in the decalogue; detailed regulations for divine worship (especially for sacrifice and a priesthood) ; and wise rules for the civil government and social organisation of the nation: in a word, moral, ceremonial and civil laws.

THE PENAL CODE,

The death penalty was decreed for idolatry; for blasphemy; for violation of the Sabbath; for striking or cursing one’s father or mother; for murder; for adultery and certain other gross sexual crimes. The long list need cause no surprise when it is remembered that we are dealing with ancient times and with people whom Moses, their leader, described as “stiff-necked,” (Exodus 32, 9), i.e., incorrigible. Indeed, compared with ancient codes generally the law of Moses is exceedingly mild. Thus in the penalty of scourging the number of strokes must not exceed forty (Deuteronomy 25, 3). whereas in ancient Roman law (rightly regarded as the best of all human codes) there was no such limit imposed, and slaves were somtimes flogged to death.

MORAL LAWS

Kindness to strangers and hospitality are recommended in several places; and benevolence to widows and orphans: “If you hurt them they will cry out to me and I will hear their cry” (Exodus 22, 23). Almsgiving and thought for the poor are encouraged; the cornfields and the vineyards are not to be stripped bare at the harvest time so that the needy may have the gleanings (Leviticus 19, 9–10).

There are humane rules for the treatment of animals; “If thou meet thy enemy’s ox or ass going astray, bring it back to him. If thou see the ass of him that hateth thee lie underneath his burden, thou shalt not pass by, but shalt lift him up with him” (Exodus 23, 4–5) . “Thou shalt not plough with an ass and an ox together” (Deuteronomy 22, 10). “Thou shalt not muzzle the ox that treadeth out thy corn on the floor” (Deuteronomy 25, 44) .

Necromancy, sorcery, divination, calumny, detraction, hatred, theft, extortion, fraud and usury are severally and sternly condemned: “Let the balance be just and the weights equal; the bushel just and the sextary equal” (Leviticus 19, 36).

MARRIAGE

It was forbidden to the Israelites to marry those outside their own nation, and especially the Chanaanites, on It was forbidden to the Israelites to marry those outside their own nation, and especially the Chanaanites, on 14, where the son of a Hebrew mother named Salumith and an Egyptian father had to be executed for blasphemy. They were required furthermore to marry from their own tribes- this to maintain intact the lands and possessions of the several tribes. For this same end the levirate law was renewed by which her brother-in-law must marry a widow who had no son to inherit the family name and property.

Polygamy and divorce were practised by the surrounding peoples, and these evils against the unity and indissolubility of matrimony had crept in among the Hebrews also. Moses could fight these abuses only indirectly. In Genesis 2, 22–24 he makes prominent statement of the divine decree concerning the unity of matrimony and its indissolubility; and all through the. law the ideal of matrimony as one, permanent and holy is in evidence. To check divorce he instituted the “bill of divorce” (Deuteronomy 24, 1–4), which was intended “to make the husband desist from his intention (of divorcing) by creating delay and bringing the matter before the scribes who would dissuade hirn.”(2) Then a woman divorced a second time could not re-marry her first husband, “because she is defiled, and is become abominable before the Lord.

(Deuteronomy 24, 4)

SLAVERY

An Israelite could become a slave for theft when unable to restore; or for debt. But he was never a slave in perpetuity. He became free again when the debt was paid; or when the sabbatical or jubilee year came, every seventh and fiftieth year respectively. This is in contrast to ancient pagan codes of law.

THE CEREMONIAL LAW

Unlike the moral law the ceremonial was only temporary, giving figures of the realities to come with the Redeemer: “a shadow of the good things to come, not the very image of the things” (Hebrews 10, 1) . Detailed instructions were given for the appointment and consecration of priests; the building of a sanctuary; public and private worship of God; sacrifices and festivals. Aaron was divinely chosen to be the first high priest; his sons were appointed priests; and the office was to be hereditary in their families. The men of the tribe of Levi were to serve the sanctuary; and the Book of Leviticus a special code of laws for the duties of priests and levites, and the order of sacrifices and ceremonies.

THE TABERNACLE

The sanctuary-the first church raised to the One True God -of necessity took the form of a tabernacle (literally- a tent) or moveable house since the people were (and were to remain for forty years) nomads without fixed abode. A rectangular space, 150 feet by 75 feet was first fenced about but open to the sky. This was “the court of the tabernacle” (Exodus 27, 9) ; and as far as the entrance to the tabernacle it was open to all the Israelites. At the western end was the roofed tabernacle, or sanctuary proper, 45 feet by 18 feet, with a veil or curtain at the entrance. This again was divided by a second veil into “the Holy (place)” and “the Holy of Holies” i.e., the most holy place (Hebrews 9, 2–3). Priests and levites could enter the holy place, but only the high priests could enter the inner sanctuary, and that only once a year on “the day of atonement” (Leviticus 23, 27), the tenth of the Jewish month Tishri.

THE ARK OF THE COVENANT

In the holy of holies was the Ark of the Covenant, the most sacred possession of the Hebrews, the throne of Jahwe where He visibly manifested His presence. It was a chest or oblong box of acacia (setim) -wood, 3 feet 9 inches long by 2 feet 3 inches broad and high, covered with a golden plate called the propitiatory, ornamented with a crown of gold and two figures of angels. In the Ark were placed the two stone tablets of the decalogue, and near it a written copy of the whole law of Moses. In the Holy Place were the altar of incense, the golden seven-branched candlestick, and the table for the twelve loaves of the proposition (Exodus 25, 30). In the court were the altar of holocausts and the “brazen laver” (Exodus 30, 18), a large vessel of bronze for the ritual washings.

LEGAL CLEANLINESS

The prohibition to eat blood was renewed (Deuteronomy 15, 23); also the law of circumcision on the eighth day (Leviticus 12, 3) , a law which seems to have fallen into neglect even in the case of Moses’ own son (Exodus, 4, 25). The distinction between clean and unclean foods was also renewed and clarified (Leviticus II) . Various causes gave rise to legal defilement, e.g., touching a corpse. Leprosy, ever the scourge of eastern countries, was given in charge to the priests because medical science was unknown. The priests diagnosed the disease or certified to its cure.

Many of these ceremonial laws are directed to hygiene and public health, but underlying them is always the divine purpose of keeping the Hebrews separate from the surrounding idolatrous nations: “I have separated you from other people that you shall be mine” (Leviticus 20, 26). Also there is the higher purpose still of educating them to holiness by means of these distinctions between clean and unclean in material things. Take, for instance, the prohibition (in Deuteronomy 14, 21; Exodus 23, 10; 34, 26) : “Thou shalt not boil a kid in the milk of its dam.” This practice is regarded as brutal; it is also “a gross unwholesome dish,” and lastly it is used in the heathen worship of Asherat, the Phoenician god of fertility.

THE CIVIL LAW

The Hebrews of the Old Testament had a unique political constitution-they were a theocracy. God was the supreme and sole ruler, judge and lawgiver; Moses and those who succeeded him (even the kings) were but deputies of Yahweh. They were the Chosen People of God; their civil laws were religious laws; all the legislation of Moses was inspired. This does not mean that all the civil laws were new. No, what was good in the patriarchal code and tribal customs was retained and re-enacted. This is the reason that there are many points of resemblence between the laws in the Bible concerning property, the administration of justice, social and national policy, and the laws on the same matters in the code of Hammurabi, the great law-giver of Babylonia. The Hebrews had their origin in Babylonia, and had brought these tribal laws thence. But in no human code is found anything approaching in dignity, simplicity, depth and comprehensiveness the sublime summary of the whole moral law contained in the decalogue of Moses.

CHAPTER III. IN THE DESERT

(Exodus 30–40; Numbers; Deuteronomy 1–4 and 31–34).

Moses first committed the moral code to writing. Then he had an altar raised at the foot of Mount Sinai and victims slain in sacrifice. Half of the blood of these victims was poured on the altar. Moses read the law to the people, and then the remainder of the blood he sprinkled on the book of the law and on the assembled people. This done Moses went up to the summit again to receive further revelations; and after six days spent alone in prayer God called him into the cloud which was the sign of the divine presence. There he remained for forty days alone with God.

The forty days were nearly ended, but when Moses was not returning the people in the plain beneath became restive, and clamoured to Aaron that he should make them an idol which they might worship. The idolatry with which they were familiar in Egypt had a fatal attraction for them which at first sight causes surprise. But the formula used in Holy Scripture to describe idolatry sheds light on the matter: ‘the people sat down to eat and drink, and they rose up to play” (Exodus 32, 6). The word play in the original means ‘to laugh’ or ‘to jest’ ; it has reference to the lewd songs and dances, the wild uncontrolled mirth in which the idolaters indulged when they had sated themselves with the victims killed for the idol. Idol-worship had no seriousness, no reverence about it. It consisted of feasting and coarse merriment alternately.

THE GOLDEN CALF

In a moment of weakness Aaron yielded to the popular clamour; he took the ear-rings of the women, and had the gold in these fashioned into the image of a calf. This they set up on a pedestal as an idol, and proceeded to adore. Moses was made aware of what had happened by a divine intimation, and he was commanded to go down and intervene. He hastened down to the plain where the people were. He had with him the two stone tablets which he had received from God-the ten commandments divinely engraved on them. When he came face to face with the idolators his indignation and disgust overcame him; and he flung the tables of the law from him and broke them-a sign that the covenant was broken to which they had so recently given their approval. The first law of the ten was violated; the law which is the foundation of all the others: “I am Yahweh thy God. . . . Thou shalt not have strange gods before me” (Exodus 20, 2–3) .

Moses seized the idol; smashed it to powder; threw the powder in the stream which supplied them with water, and made the people drink it. Next Aaron was severly rebuked for his weakness. Then Moses rallied the fighting men of his own tribe (of Levi), and sent them to put the ring-leaders to the sword. About 23,000 were slain. But Moses still loved his people-stiff-necked as they were; and he pleaded with God in moving words for their pardon: “either forgive them this trespass, or if thou do not, strike me out of the book that thou hast written” (Exodus 32, 31–32) . God therefore commanded him to procure anew two stone tablets. With these he went up to the summit and remained again for forty days; and God inscribed once more the ten commandments. The covenant was renewed.

The people contributed generously the materials for the Tabernacle and its furnishing; and Beseleel of the tribe of Juda with a group of chosen craftsmen set to work according to the directions given to Moses on the mount. All was completed on the first day of the second year, that is to say a year after the Exodus from Egypt. Moses dedicated the sanctuary and consecrated Aaron and Aaron’s four sons to the priesthood. The visible sign of God’s approval was given at the rite when the pillar of cloud moved and rested over the Holy of Holies. The holocaust or whole-burnt sacrifice offered after the consecration of Aaron and his sons was consumed by a miraculous fire. The Ark of the Covenant was henceforth to lead them in their journey; the miraculous fire was to be kept continually renewed. At a later period Nadab and Abiu, two of Aaron’s sons, were slain by God for using in their censers fire which had been taken from another source than this sacred fire. (Leviticus 9, 24).

THE MARCH FROM SINAI

On the twentieth of the second month the Hebrews left Sinai-the Levites in front carrying the Tabernacle and all its furniture. They came to Haseroth where Moses was again annoyed by the complaints of the people who had grown tired of the sameness of the manna and now clamour- ing for meat. God sent them flocks of quails to silence their complaints. While they were encamped here a more petty annoyance (but so terribly human!) fell to Moses: Miriam and Aaron quarrelled with him “because of his wife the Ethiopian” (Numbers 12, 1). Miriam (who apparently was chiefly to blame) was striken with leprosy, and cured only at the prayer of Moses.

Arrived at the desert of Pharan Moses sent from Cadesbarne a man from each tribe to view the country of Chanaan, with an eye especially to its defences. The spies returned after forty days bringing grapes of the country, and full of admiration for its fertility; but ten of them (all except Josue and Caleb) gave a discouraging account of the possibility of conquering the inhabitants. Fresh murmurs arose against Moses; the people proposed to choose a new leader to bring them back to Egypt; and when Josue and Caleb tried to hearten them the multitude became angry and threatened to kill them. For this distrust in God’s promise of protection they were condemned to wander in the desert for forty years, i.e., until all those over twenty years (except Josue and Caleb) would be dead. Next they were ordered to go southward, but again they disobeyed, and this time insisted on attacking the Chanaanites. They had gone only a short distance, however, when the Anialecites and Chanaanites swooped down on them and drove them to flight as far as Horma.

CORE, DATHAN AND AB1RON

Still another trouble arose for Moses. He certainly had to endure much contradiction from those for whose salvation he had devoted his life at the call of God; and Scripture tells us that “Moses was a man exceeding meek above all men that dwelt upon earth” (Numbers 12, 13). At the same time it must be remembered that of his long period of thirty-nine years in the desert we have not a complete history, but only a few selected incidents. These incidents, moreover, were selected for a religious purpose, viz., to teach future generations; and hence they are mainly cases of sin followed by retribution.

This time Core, Dathan, Abiron abetted by Hon and two hundred and fifty others wished to usurp the office of the priesthood. Their punishment was swift and terrible: the earth quaked beneath them and destroyed Core, Dathan and Abiron with their tents and possessions; while fire came from the sanctuary and killed Hon and his adherents. Even this did not end the matter. On the morrow the people attacked Moses and Aaron for having caused the slaughter of the previous day, and to punish this rebellion a plague cut off more than 14,000. To end the schism once and for all Moses then placed the rod, the symbol of office, of the head of each tribe (including Aaron’s, as head of the tribe of Levi) in the sanctuary. On the following day Aaron’s rod was found to have grown miraculously and put forth leaves and blossoms; while the others were unchanged. This was the divine proof that the priesthood was exclusively for the family of Aaron.

DEATH OF MIRIAM AND AARON

A second time they came to Cadesbarne, and here Miriam died and was buried. Again the people murmured-this time for lack of water. Moses and Aaron had recourse to God; and Moses was commanded to strike the, rock with his rod of office. Moved by some imperfection of will (the nature of which is not clear, but which would seem to be impatience) Moses struck the. rock twice, and for this he was not permitted to enter the Promised Land. Soon after Aaron died at Madera; and his son Eleazar, succeeded him in the office of high priest.

BALAAM

Further attempts of the Israelites to reach Chanaan were frustrated by the Edomites in the southeast and the Chanaanites in the south. They were thus compelled to change their route so as to avoid the Edomite territory, and this took them to the east of the Dead Sea through the Syrian desert and on to the boundary of Moab. It was at this stage of their journey that serpents were sent to punish them for another outbreak of rebellion, when Moses erected a bronze serpent and all who looked on it with faith and repentance were cured.

From this point onwards the fortunes of war are decidely in favour of the Hebrews. Sehon, king of Hesebon (the Capital of the Amorrhites) who had lately conquered Moab, came to oppose them; but he was defeated and slain in battle. A similar fate befell Og, the king of Basan, who fought them at Edrai. They now moved into Moab. Balac, the king of Moab, not yet recovered from his defeat by Sehon was thoroughly frightened by the arrival of Sehon’s conquerors. He sent all the way to Mesopotamia to a soothsayer named Balaam, asking him to come and to curse the Israelites for him. Balaam, warned by God, hesitated to come. A second embassy brought him; but on the journey God rebuked him first through means of the ass which he was riding, “the dumb beast used to the yoke, which speaking with man’s voice, forbade the folly of the prophet” (2 St. Peter 2, 16); and then through means of an angel. Then God sent him, unworthy though he was (for God is free to choose and use His instruments) ; but compelled him to bless the Israelites instead of cursing them. God compelled him also to fortell the glorious future of the Messianic nation:

‘‘A star shall rise out of Jacob and a sceptre shall spring up from Israel . . .” (Numbers 24, 17)

BEELPHEGOR

The Hebrews now came to Settim on the eastern side of the Jordan nearly opposite Jericho. Near them was the city of Peor or Phogor, the centre of the degraded and sensual cult of the Moabite god Baal-whence the city, was named Beelphegor (the god of Phogor). The Israelites were lured into joining the Moabites in their hideous worship, and for this crime 24,000 of them were slain.

THE DEATH OF MOSES

The chosen people were almost in sight of the Promised Land; the forty years were ended; a new generation had grown up and were ready to conquer Chanaan. But a new leader must cross the Jordan with them, because Moses was not to finish the task which he had begun, for his strange failure at Cadesbarne. God revealed to him now that his work was soon to be ended, and mercifully promised him a view of the long desired Promised Land. Nowhere does Moses appear so great as here. He accepted the divine will without a murmur; his only thought was for his people that they would have a good leader in his stead; and he asked God to designate the man. Josue was appointed to succeed him. Moses summoned the people and in the presence of the high priest formally named Josue to the supreme command of the nation; exhorted the people to follow him, and to keep the divine law: “I call heaven and earth to witness this day, that I have set before you life and death, blessing and cursing. Choose therefore life . . .” (Deuteronomy 30, 10). He blessed the twelve tribes of Israel severally as Jacob had done before. One last mission remained. He ordered the people to attack the Madianites who had led them into idolatry. The battle was a complete victory for the Israelites; the opposing forces were completely routed, leaving all the spoils of war in the hands of the victors. Among the slain were five kings of the Madianites, and Balaam, the soothsayer.

The territory thus conquered together with that of Sehon and Og Moses permitted to be occupied by the tribes of Ruben and Gad and half of the large tribe of Manasses, on condition that the fighting men of these tribes would take their part in the conquest of Chanaan.

Moses then went up to Mount Nebo in Moab, and from the peak Phasga viewed long and wistfully the “land flowing with milk and honey” (Numbers 14, 8) which God had promised to the descendants of Abraham. Then he died. He was a hundred and twenty years old, but “his eye was not dim, nor was his natural vigour abated” (Deuteronomy 34, 7) . He was buried by angels “in the land of Moab over against Phogor and no man hath known of his sepulchre until this present day” (Deuteronomy 34, 6). His tomb was concealed by God probably to prevent the Israelites from worshipping him with divine cult. The people mourned him for thirty days, and “there arose no more a prophet in Israel like to Moses, whom the Lord knew face to face.” (Deuteronomy 34, 10).

CONCLUSION

1. No event in their history appealed so forcibly to the religious and national sentiments of the Jews as did the Exodus from Egypt. It gave a name to the second book of the Bible; it was commemorated annually in the greatness of the festivals of The Old Law-the Pasch; it is recalled frequently in the Psalms: it is mentioned in the first of the ten commandments as a claim of God on His Chosen People, second only to His claim on them as Creator: “I am Yahweh, thy God who brought thee out of the land of Egypt, and out of the house (i.e., place) of bondage” (Exodus 20, 1).

2. The Exodus has a very special appeal for Christians also: “All these things happened to them in figure: and they are written for our correction (i.e., admonition), upon whom the ends of the world (i.e., the last, the New Testament, epoch) are come” (1 Corinthians 10, 11). The deliverance from Egypt was a figure or type or historical prophecy of the Redemption; the Slavery in Egypt of the bondage of sin; Pharao of Satan; Moses of Christ. The manna was a figure of the Most Blessed Eucharist: “Moses gave you not bread from heaven, but my Father giveth you the true bread from heaven. . . . I am the bread of life. Your fathers did eat manna in the desert, and are dead. This is the bread which cometh down from heaven: that if any man eat of it, he may not die” (St. John 6, 32–48–50). The Paschal lamb is a figure of Christ-the perfect sacrifice of the New Law:

“Now Christ our Paschal Lamb is slain.

The Lamb of God that knows no stain.”

3. For the same twofold reason, therefore, because He is our Creator and our Redeemer, does God demand of us homage and worship, gratitude and love; the observance of the commandments which He promulgated in the thunders of Sinai, and of which Our Lord said: “till heaven and earth pass, one jot, or one tittle shall not pass of the law, till all be fulfilled (i.e., till the end of time)” (St. Matthew 5, 18). These ten commandments are reducible to two: love of God and love of our fellowmen: “Hear O Israel, the Lord our God is one Lord. Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with thy whole heart, and thy whole soul, and with thy whole strength” (Deuteronomy 6, 4–5). Service to God is incomplete and impossible without service of our fellowmen; and so the second is: “Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself” (Leviticus 19, 18) .

Nihil Obstat:

RECCAREDUS FLEMING, Censor Theol. Deput.,

Imprimi Potest:

@ IOANNES CAROLUS,

Archiep. Dublinen.,

Hiberniae Primas.

Dublini, die 28 Sept., anno 1945, ********

Mother Mary Potter

FOUNDRESS OF ‘THE LITTLE COMPANY OF MARY’

BY REV. MARIUS MCAULIFFE, O.F.M

INDEX

This is the story of a remarkable woman of our age—Mother Mary Potter, the Foundress of the Little Company of Mary, familiarly called the “Blue Nuns” because of their distinctive veils of Our Lady’s blue. She died in Rome in the odour of sanctity in 1913. Her cause of canonisation is just now being investigated.

Now that devotion to Our Lady seems to be undergoing a renewal, particularly through the teaching of Blessed Grignion de Montfort, the life of Mary Potter is most opportune. She lived de Montfort’s teaching on the Holy Slavery of Mary.

It should be of particular interest to that vast modern army of apostles, founded on de Montfort’s spiritual teaching-the Legion of Mary.

GODFREY KING was a happy man. Little twentyyear old Mary Potter had said “yes.” It is true that at times he thought her a little too happy and too worldly, but perhaps, he himself, was just a little too serious now and then.

He had tried his vocation to the austere life, and perpetual silence, of a Trappist monk, and now had accepted the guidance of God’s Providence to a life in the world. Actually, he was a mathematical coach for the Indian and Army examinations. He hoped in time that the example of his own life, supplemented by some good reading, would make Mary just a little more serious and devout. Alas for his earthly happiness. In this ideal he succeeded only too well.

It all happened like this.

One of the books he gaveher was that now famous treatise of Blessed Grignion de Montfort on “True Devotion to the Blessed Virgin Mary.” It had then been translated into English by Father Faber. The theme of the book is “the Holy Slavery of Mary.”

Writing of the book, Father Faber had this to say-”I cannot think of a higher work or a broader vocation for anyone than the simple spreading of this devotion. Let a man but try it for himself and his surprise at the graces it brings with it and the transformation it causes in his soul will soon convince him of its almost incredible efficacy.” Years later, a great and holy Pope, Pius X., was able to proclaim that he would give the apostolic blessing to anyone who would even read the book. Now, in our Own time, we have the established fact that the late Holy Father, Pope Pius XI., had from his childhood practised True Devotion to Mary as outlined by Blessed Grignion de Montfort. When the late Cardinal Mercier, a short time before his death, presented to the Holy Father a copy of De Montfort’s treatise, he asked: “Does your Holiness know this book? “Yes,” replied the Holy Father, “this is a devotion which I have known and practised from my childhood.” (“Queen and Mother,” July-August, 1940.)

A SLAVE OF MARY

It is impossible to give any account of the life of Mary Potter without some explanation of what is meant by the devotion known as “The Slavery of Mary.” On it her life and work are hinged. It is the spiritual legacy she bequeathed to her Order. They were to become slaves of Mary.

Not, indeed, that this Slavery of Mary is confined to the members of any religious Order. Every day experience proves that it is a secret of grace to souls of all ranks and conditions in the world. Here we can touch on the matter only briefly. The interested reader will be well repaid by making a profound study of it in Blessed Grignion de Montfort’s celebrated “Treatise on True Devotion to the Blessed Virgin.”

Blessed Grignion begins his treatise by laying down the unique position held by Mary in the scheme of redemption and in the distribution of graces. In all this he simply follows the traditional teaching of the Church. “To Jesus through Mary” was a principle of the golden age of the Church. De Montfort’s thesis is this-to find Jesus perfectly we must find Mary perfectly. To find Mary perfectly we must become her slaves. He admits that there are several true ways of honouring Mary.

“The first devotion,” he says, “consists in performing our duties as Christians, avoiding mortal sin, acting more from love than fear, praying to the Blessed Virgin from time to time and honouring her as the Mother of God, without having any special devotion to her.

“The second consists in having for the Blessed Virgin a more complete feeling of reverence, love, trust and venera—tion. It causes us to join confraternities of the Holy Rosary, of the scapular, to say part or the whole of the Holy Rosary, to honour the statues and altars of Mary, to publish her praise, to join her communities.”

All these devotions, he tells us, if we abstain from sin are good, holy and praiseworthy. However, they are not so capable of withdrawing the soul from creatures and detaching them from themselves in order to unite them with Jesus Christ.

Finally, the true and perfect devotion to Mary, he declares, is known to and practised by very few. What, then, is this wonderful devotion, this “Secret of Mary,” as he calls it?

It consists in abandoning oneself utterly and in the capacity of a slave to Mary and through her to Jesus, so that everything we do, we do through Mary, with Mary, in Mary, and for Mary.

It is, therefore, something more than just a consecration of oneself to Mary-more, even, than an offering to her of all one’s thoughts, words or actions. It is a giving over of the freedom of one’s mind and heart, of the liberty to use one’s talents, spiritual and material, to the dominion of Mary.

The implications of this are far more than appear on the surface. Indeed, the full meaning and beauty of all it entails will only gradually dawn upon the soul. Its noonday splendour is reserved for the faithful soul that has persevered over the years in its practice.

Some not too deeply instructed souls are apt to take exception to the use of the word “slave” rather than “child” of Mary. De Montfort describes three kinds of slavery- The first, the slavery of nature-all men, good and bad, are the slaves of God in this sense.

The second, the slavery of constraint-in this way the devils and the rejected are slaves of God.

The third, is the slavery of love and will-and it is by this slavery, as being the most perfect, in which a creature can give himself to his Creator, that we should consecrate ourselves to God through Mary.

For the rest-for the actual practice of this surrender of one’s life to Mary-it is essential to read, and re-read, Blessed Grignion de Montfort’s own treatise.

LOVE’S LABOUR LOST

And so Mary Potter avidly read the books recommended by her fiance. In particular, Blessed Grignion de Montfort s work on the “Slavery of Mary” made a lasting impression. In fact, it was the very simple instrument chosen by Providence to change the whole course of her life.

Mary was never a character to do things by halves. She gave herself, and all she had, to Our Blessed Lady, to live as her slave. Before long, she began to realise that this self-surrender was to mean the giving up of earthly love for Godfrey King. On the advice of her director the engagement was broken off while she awaited in peace for Heaven’s guidance as to her future.

EARLY YEARS

She was born In London on November 22. 1847-the youngest of five children.

Her father, William Potter, was a nominal member of the Church of England, but had practised no religion. Owing to a dispute over a will he deserted the family while Mary was still too young to remember him, and settled in Australia. They did not hear from him again.

Her mother, Mary Anne Martin, was Irish and a convert to the Faith.

There is nothing worth recording of these years except the fact that “she had a natural manner, a very affectionate nature and appeared always carefree and full of fun.” From childhood her instinct was to give, and this became a marked characteristic throughout her life.

If she had any one aversion, it was to the very thought of being a nun! Nor must we suppose that a lively, affectionate nature like hers took easily to the idea of breaking off her engagement and her love for Godfrey King. We have her own simple words to assure us that the break with the man whom she loved came only at the end of a tremendous and heart-breaking struggle.

We get an intimate glimpse of her soul from these words she wrote for her confessor about this time: “I did not fully value the state of virginity. I did not know the difference between one state and another, though I knew both were good. I likewise felt the thought pressing upon me that it was God’s will that I should be a nun, though I still did not wish it. In fact, upon telling my thoughts to my mother, and when she told me she had solemnly, years ago, offered me to Our Lady as a nun, I felt I wished she had not. . . . .Finally, after a severe struggle, I gave up all earthly love, and, in doing so, gave up my very nature; so much so that when I went to the convent they wondered that things came so easily to me, that nothing seemed difficult (except speaking about myself); but the fact was that I had already made the great sacrifice before entering, by giving up my engagement.”

This period of her life is thus summed up by her biographer: “From this moment she began to lead a life of prayer and self-sacrifice, still outwardly the same happy, irresponsible person as before, but acting as one blind; she groped helplessly for some indication of what God required of her. She exasperated her friends, and particularly her family, by trying to accomplish whatever mad scheme she thought might be God’s plan.”

“PER CRUCEM A.D. LUCEM.”

“God writes straight on crooked lines.” In the world of souls some are led straight to their goal, others only by devious paths and over seemingly endless obstacles. He alone rules the heart, searches the whole being, and therefore knows with absolute certainty the needs of each individual soul. He alone can guide the faltering footsteps through the darkness of the night. It is a blessed day for any soul to have learned this lesson.

Mary was one of these souls.

In the next phase of her life, disappointment simply followed disappointment. On the advice of her confessor, Dr. Grant, Bishop of Southwark, Mary sought admission to the Sisters of Mercy at Brighton. There she was received as postulant on December 8, 1868. On July 30, 1869, she became a novice as Sister Mary Angela. The attempt was a failure. Even good-will, generosity, determination, were not able to ensure success. She left the convent on June 23, 1870. Many years later she wrote the following account of her departure: “The Reverend Mother was very kind to me, and when I left she expressed her hope that when my health improved I might be able to enter the Order which Father Lambert had chosen for me. The Chapter did not vote against my profession, but I was advised to leave, so as to make it easier for me, when my health was restored, to obtain admission into another Order. The Mistress of Novices told me that she thought I would be more suited to an enclosed Order, and that it would be better for me to be where I could go to Holy Communion more frequently. She had tried to obtain permission for me to communicate oftener than the others. I remember my answer, that I did not want to go to a contemplative Order because I might have to aim at high states of prayer, and I did not want to. I have such a dislike for anything out of the ordinary, but if ever I have a great dislike to any particular thing, it seems to me that it is that which God permits to happen.”

To add to her disappointment, there was the added grief of the loss of her spiritual director, Bishop Grant. He had died in Rome a short time previously.

“One cannot resist the desire here to comment on the inscrutable ways of Divine Providence. Here is an eager, longing, loving soul prepared for any sacrifice. She had already given up, as she assures us, her very nature when she gave up her earthly love for Godfrey King. Her only wish is to serve Him to the utmost of her capacity, and she meets-what? Failure and disappointment. It is easy to write or read these lines, but it is harder to visualise or realise the darkness of mind or anguish of spirit that must have done their hard but purifying, work in her unwavering soul. Cardinal Newman wrote that “it is the rule of God’s Providence that all should succeed by failure.” At that rate, Mary was preparing to be a tremendous success, but all that was hidden in the womb of the future.

THE DARK NIGHT OF THE SOUL

That prince of mystic theologians-the Carmelite, St John of the Cross-calls that more or less prolonged period of purifying trials which souls are called upon to endure by the name of the Dark Night of the Soul. In these wellknown lines of his spiritual poem he sings:

“In a dark night, with anxious love inflamed, O happy lot,

Forth unobserved I went,

My house being now at rest.”

He tells us that this darkness guides “more surely than the noonday sun”; and the consummation is, he assures us, Love providing Union with the Infinite God:

“O guiding night

O night more lovely than the dawn, O night that hast united

The Lover with His Beloved And changed her into her Love.”

He uses a very simple example to express what happens before the chosen soul is fit to burn within the sanctuary of its heart the pure flame of Divine Love. He compares the action of the Holy Spirit to the action of fire on wood. The first effect of fire is not to set the wood alight. Rather, it begins by blackening and disfiguring the wood, from which it then purges out the moist sap. Only gradually does it penetrate to the very centre. Finally, the wood is completely purged of all contrary elements. Then it bursts into flame and is transformed into fire.

Such is the action of the Holy Spirit. He begins by the often long-drawn-out purification of the senses, by acts of self-discipline, or, by providential happenings that detach from all that could hinder His full, untrammelled control Later on, will come the still more terrible “Night of the Spirit”-when the soul is tested in its inmost being, when faith seems dead, hope seems vanished, and love seems cold. St John of the Cross speaks of this night as terrible in the extreme, and adds that but few souls are chosen to endure it in all its dread reality. But the end and aim of all these is to make that soul a “living flame” of Love Divine. Just as no words can describe the agony of these blessed souls so, nothing can describe the wonders of grace which God places therein after the night of trial is over. It is all very fine to say the saints were human, and many of them exteriorly like anybody else. We must never forget that, interiorly, they were crucified with Christ. To use the strong expression of St. Paul, they can say with him: “With Christ I am nailed to the Cross, and I live now not I, but Christ liveth in me.”

All this was expressed by Francis Thompson in the wellknown lines of his “Hound of Heaven”:

“Ah! must—Designer Infinite—Ah! must Thou char the wood, ere Thou canst limn with it?”

Later on, he, too, sees it is but the loving hand of a God of infinite love and tender care when he cries out:

“Is my gloom, after all,

Shade of His hand, outstretched caressingly?”

It is necessary to keep these long-established principles of mystic theology well in mind when studying the life of any saint, or other chosen soul, else, we shall miss the real story of their lives, and see only the externals thereof. It may be no harm to add that, while hagiographers of our day have certainly done well in giving greater prominence to the human element in the lives of saints, stressing their every human weakness, as well as the strong traits of character that surely contributed to their success, at the same time there is the danger of running to the other extreme, forgetting that, after all, the Holy Spirit is ever the principal agent in the work of sanctification. He alone has the first and last word. The soul’s work is that of faithful co-operation.

SEVEN YEARS’ PREPARATION

So Mary Potter entered on a period of great trial. It lasted seven years, from the time she left the convent in 1870 till the founding of the Little Company of Mary in 1877. Not, indeed, that her ways were along rose-strewn avenues after that. Far from it. But the battle of her own soul was definitely fought, and won, in those fateful years. Later, the trials were more centred round the struggle for her Institute.

In spite of the fact that the ideal “mens sana in corpore sano”-a sound mind in a healthy body-has been accepted by the Church, and that we have the obligation to preserve our health, it is really remarkable what an important part illness, prolonged illness, too-has played in the lives of so many 6f God’s servants. The great St. Bernard spoke of itas a predisposition for contemplation. St. Teresa of Avila, in her “Interior Castle,” speaks of a prolonged and obscure illness that baffles physicians, and seems to accompany a certain stage of spiritual purification. Perhaps it is near the truth to saythat nothing can be so conducive to humility, to the realisation of one’s utter weakness, and dependence on God’s help, as a prolonged illness. Given faith, it is then easier to see the nothingness of all things earthly that do not lead to God, the shortness of life, the nearness and greatness of eternity. Pain, too, sharpens the sensitiveness of the mind, gives a deeper appreciation of God’s gifts, helps to make us less critical of others, and from our own experience teaches us to have compassion for those in any way afflicted. It has been said that

“Never soul could know its powers Till sorrow swept its chords.”

In the case of eager, enthusiastic souls, it preserves them from that insidious danger to holiness, that of being carried away by too much external activity, which ends by sapping the very foundation of the spiritual life.

Someone has spoken of this over-eager, ill-balanced activity as “the twentieth century heresy of good works.” It is surprising how many would-be apostolic workers are every day deceived by its speciousness. Such souls want to share the public life of Christ without first having learned to go down to His hidden life at Nazareth. They are mere channels of grace, not giving themselves the opportunity of benefiting by it. They foolishly hope to sanctify others without having sanctified themselves. They have not learned the secret of waiting on God. Their works, built on the shifting sands of human endeavour, are not blessed by God, and so, are doomed to failure, no matter how brilliant the natural talent or the organisation that has been its unstable support

God now took Mary Potter’s surrendered soul into His safe keeping. Two long years of painful illness followed her return from the convent. During those two years she was a complete invalid, confined to her room. However, kind Providence has placed an oasis in the desert for the parched and weary traveller. Mary found a spiritual oasis in her little room. This was a tiny oratory erected in a corner thereof, with its altar to Our Blessed Lady. It was a well-spring of grace to a sorely tried soul. There, many and many an hour of light and shade, of deep, abiding, peaceful joy and bitterest, darkest gloom passed over her soul as she fought her way against the world, the flesh, and the powers of darkness into the Maternal Heart itself of the Immaculate Mother.

Here is one paragraph from her biography that tells its own story of these days- “Her prayers brought her no consolation. In her heart she found no responding chord and no one realised the spiritual darkness had misery which was now her portion.

There were many lonely hours of enforced inaction and solitude in which her physical and spiritual sufferings were intense. Even God seemed to have deserted her, and only sufferers can realise the agony of being left alone by God- it is desolation. From her Creator she begged only to know His will; to her Saviour she offered her aching body to suffer with Him on Calvary; to the Holy Ghost she cried in anguish for light and strength.”

To my mind, this picture of misery as recorded by her biographer is somewhat overdrawn. Exponents of Mystic Theology assure us that the spiritual night is never so dark that God does not leave some star to send a ray of hope in the all-pervading darkness. There usually come peaceful, joy-giving, soul-expanding movements of grace when God renews His love and the poor, anguished soul is refreshed, invigorated and renewed to continue the struggle.

THE PATH OF MARY

It was during these two years of prayer and suffering, and very probably during those rare periods of light and peace, that Mary Potter wrote her first book, “The Path of Mary.” Several others followed at intervals.

This little treatise on devotion to Our Blessed Lady is fast becoming known as a spiritual classic. It has gone through numberless editions. Just now a new Australian edition has been published by the Little Company of Mary of Lewisham Hospital, Sydney. To read it is to see into the very soul of Mary Potter. Like all worthwhile reading, it bears the genuine stomp of simplicity of expression and profundity of thought, brought to white heat by the glowing fire of conviction. It is one of the best commentaries written on Blessed Grignion de Montfort’s “Treatise on the True Devotion to Our Lady.” It is steeped in the theology of Mary. Every snare and pitfall in the practice of this devotion is portrayed with masterly skill. But it is even more than a useful commentary. It has the inspirational touch that only a soul of prayer can possess. It was literally written at the foot of the Cross in those years of trial when she compassionated with the Maternal Heart of the Mother of Sorrows. Moreover, in it one can discern the outlines of that special vocation for which she was then being moulded and prepared. This vocation was the future Little Company of Mary; an institute of nursing Sisters, whose spiritual life would be besed on the teaching of Blessed Grignion de Montfort, with an especial devotion to the Maternal Heart of Mary compassionating with the Divine Son on Calvary. This logically led to a special zeal for souls in their last agony

These three-complete surrender to Mary, special love for the Maternal Heart of Mary on Calvary, and prayer for those in their agony-are the characteristics of the Little Company of Mary, in whatever part of the world they are established, to this day.

At the bedside of the sick or dying, theirs is the merciful work to impart the same maternal love which Mary offered to her dying Son at the foot of the Cross.

LIGHT AND SHADE

The Little Flower of Jesus assures us that “God does not usually give us light for the distant future, but only for the immediate present.” There is no “grand splash” in the things that are of God. The grass in the fields, or the growing frees, and fragrant flowers, do their wonderful work of nourishing and beautifying the world without noise or bustle, but with the unerring touch of God’s Almighty Hand. So in the spiritual life. There is the sowing of a seed-a tiny seed, perhaps-in a ploughed and furrowed soul. There are the gentle rains of grace. There are, of course, the incidental storms of temptation. An enemy will try to sow cockle therein, but to the patient, faithful soul the harvest is assured. There will come, there must come, a summer and a fruitful autumn, whose mellow light will usher in maturity and peace.

After these two years of confinement to her room, Mary was able to move about a little. The seed was breaking ground. However, she had not finished with her spiritual growing pains. Fortunately, we have on record her own words, written under obedience to her confessor, to, give us an inner glimpse of these next years. She writes:

“During this time of sorrow I had only occasional bodily suffering. At times I think it would be a relief if my body was in pain; it might have distracted me from the fearful anguish of soul, which, nevertheless, I bore without showing, and did my few duties, which consisted mostly in going out for walks with my mother and brothers, listening to them, playing and singing for them, mending their things, and so on. So I had hours to myself in the day. I used to come down from my room as though nothing was going on within me. I sought comfort from no one, confided in no one. I have never thought that in trouble anyone could comfort me but God.”

One other interior trial is worth mentioning, just to show how many of our own ordinary everyday trials are already known in the lives of God’s loved ones. This was more in the nature of a scruple. Her confessor had forbidden her to take notice of what seemed to be inspirations of grace. She tried hard to obey, but the thoughts were so much part of herself that she found it impossible. “I would leave off praying,” she writes, “when I could not help these thoughts; they were part of myself. I was under an influence stronger than myself. Jesus and I. That blissful union that I had had I was now afraid to give way to.”

To add to her mental distress came the awful thought that since she was unable to obey her confessor she must be possessed by the devil.

She continues: “God permitted me to have this fear of being displeasing to Him whom I loved more than myself Then would come the thought if I was in such a dangerous state, surely I should be lost, but I knew it was a sin to think that, and had to put it away. . . . I have passed a priest in the confessional box close to the Communion rails, and have gone to Communion, for it seemed to me more pleasing to God to do so, than to ease my fears, give way to scruples; in other words, give way to the Evil One’s suggestions.” To anyone instructed in the ways of the Holy Spirit, her soul at this period is an open book. He was simply bringing her through a special interior purification of mind and heart, of intellect and will, before giving her a corresponding depth of humility and purity of Divine Love. To the sorely tried soul such purification seems like reprobation itself. Happy souls-yours is the real way of the Spirit of God “through the Cross to Light.” Thank God such souls are ever in the Church. They are the real workers in the Lord’s vineyard. They are the Marys pouring out the alabaster vases of their lives at the feet of God. The Pharisees, as St. Teresa remarks, still criticise, and the faithless say, why do they not give their lives to action? Truly St. Paul could say, “the animal man perceiveth not these things that are of the spirit of God.” The day of judgment will reveal their beauty of soul and their fruitfulness in the Church.

HER WORK FOR CATHOLIC EDUCATION

About the year 1873 the Bishops were repeatedly appealing for volunteers to provide some sort of Christian education for the neglected children of their forlorn flocks. Mary’s health was so far improved that she opened a private school in Portsmouth. However, teaching had no attraction for her. Then along came Godfrey King to renew his offer of marriage. This she resolutely declined.

To make matters worse her family could not understand her. After all, they were no better judges than others to whom such souls, because they cannot live like everybody else, are lightly dismissed as hypochondriacs.

All the while the vision of her vocation was becoming clearer-it was not in being a teacher, but in the much needed work of mercy, of providing an Institute of Nursing.

THE CATHOLIC NURSE

Today we see around us so many well-equipped hospitals, each carrying on its tremendous and beautiful work of mercy, in tending the sick, the diseased, and the dying, that we are, perhaps, inclined to think it has ever been thus.

Far from it. Actually, at the time Mary Potter founded her nursing institute, the conditions in England were appalling.

In the days before Christ the pagans, just like their modern counterpart, had the very simple remedy of killing off the sick and the feeble. They were the unwanted members of pagan society. The Christian soul revolts at the very ides. To the pagan it was the easy way out of an insoluble problem. Then came the moral revolution of the Christian Faith. “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the Kingdom of Heaven”-and poverty was ennobled by Christ. Ever after, the Christian learned to look upon the meanest, poorest, most abandoned as members of Christ’s Mystical Body- Christ was seen and served in them.

As a result the first Christian hospitals were established during the fourth century. There was a Christian hospital in Constantinople, built by St. Zoticus. In 369 St. Basil founded a “Basilias” or hospital in Cappadocia. It is described as a city in itself, each street being devoted to different classes of patients, with separate homes for physicians and nurses. Later on, with the spread of Christianity came the monasteries. Among the manifold activities of such was the care of the sick generally. Later, special Orders were established for this work. St. Francis himself and the Franciscans undertook the care of the lepers. That work of mercy is still carried on.

In England, at the beginning of the reign of Henry VIII. there were actually 750 institutions for the care of the poor and sick, in addition to the monasteries. One can easily realise the awful effects of the suppression of the monasteries and the outlawry of these institutions. The poor were abandoned to want and the sick to misery. Disease spread rapidly. When Queen Elizabeth ascended the throne the topical subject of the day was vagrancy. The majority of the poor had become wanderers without any settled abode, and idleness had been forced upon them. It was during this period that the hated workhouse system was introduced, whereby the poor were compelled to work under a code of Poor Laws. Nothing was done to alleviate the sufferings of the sick poor.

Even at the beginning of the last century nursing was considered to be “one of the lowest types of work which a girl could do.” The story of heroic struggle carried on by Florence Nightingale for the reform of the nursing profession is well known. The fact is not so well known, or at least not so well acknowledged, that the pioneers in that reform were the Irish Sisters of Charity and the Sisters of Mercy. Florence herself trained for a while with Catholic Sisters in Paris before the Crimean War.

The following tribute to the Catholic nun is taken from a letter from Florence Nightingale to Cardinal Manning, when she, though a Protestant, asked permission to be allowed to train as a nursing sister: “For what training is there compared with that of a Catholic nun? Those ladies who are not sisters have not the chastened temper, the Christian grace, the accomplished loveliness and energy of a regular nun. I have seen something of different kinds of nun, and am no longer young, and do not speak from enthusiasm, but from experience. There is nothing like the training (in those days) which the Sacred Heart or the Order of St. Vincent gives to women.”

Mary Potter saw the need of her day. She felt the call to establish “a community of religious nurses, scientifically trained, preferably in their own schools, whose special work and purpose would be intercession for, and nursing of, the sick and dying for the honour of the Maternal Heart of Our Blessed Lady on Calvary.”

A BEGINNING

“In the beginning of 1876, Mary was twenty-eight years of age. Those who remember her then describe her as charming in appearance, gracious in manner, and endowed with an irresistible sense of humour. Her personality seemed to radiate joy and serenity which surrounded her exterior life with an atmosphere of repose and tranquillity. Thus no one suspected the interior struggle-the dark night of the soul-from which she had just emerged.” Thus does her biographer describe Mary Potter at the moment when, at long last, she was able to make a beginning of her life’s work for the sick and the dying.

Meanwhile, a few friends had gathered round. Plans were drawn up. The Bishop, Dr. Danell, was approached for his approbation. This he readily and graciously gave, to enrol members, to hold meetings, visit the sick and teach in the school. He suggested prayers to be said by members of the society. With characteristic energy, Mary “threw herself into the work. But here, let us never forget, was a soul tried and prepared, a soul who had learned to lean on God alone, learned to keep tryst with Him hourly in the tabernacle of her heart. Such a soul would never make the tragic mistake of the unenlightened would-be apostle, of allowing even the most absorbing work to dissipate the spiritual life, the building up of which had been so costly-its further development being the only guarantee that heaven would continue to bless her endeavours.

In the official life of Mary Potter there are several very interesting letters of this period. They make delightful reading, and are of deep, spiritual content. One would love to quote from them more extensively. However, the following letter to her new-found director, Father Selley, a Marist, gives an intimate glimpse of her soul, with its hopes and fears:

33 Norfolk Street, Southsea.

Reverend and dear Father in Jesus and Mary,—In hopes of obtaining a friend for a work of God now in its infancy, I write to tell you as briefly as I can what it is. It is years since the thought occurred to me that there should be an Order devoted to the dying. I sent it away as nonsense. Again, the year before last, I believe it was shown me that it was a work which I had to do. All I could tell my director about it was that its spirit and its model would be Calvary. On the Feast of the Immaculate Conception, after Holy Communion, Our Lord seemed to inspire me to honour the Heart of His Mother. It was a new devotion to me, and the peace and thanksgiving that it brought me I cannot describe. God knows how I had been pouring myself out in prayer to aid the dying, and now it seemed that God willed we should set before Him the Mother-Heart of Our Lady pleading for her children, especially those in the greatest need-the dying. I began to pray in union with that Heart that had suffered so grievously on Calvary.

I must not delay to tell you how the work was, so to speak, completely put to death. I was bidden to put it all away as imagination. However, I saw the Bishop, who was very kind to me, and said that I might influence any others to join me in devotion for the dying, that we might hold meetings and visit cases that were recommended to us; he told me the prayers we might use, mentioned one that he himself said every day, and he said that we might see him again. One thing he distinctly said was that the word “Order” was not to be mentioned amongst us. He gave his blessing to the school. He first refused to allow me to have Mass, and then said that the demand must come from Father Horan. I trust and pray that Our Lord, by the love He bears the Heart of His Mother, will draw together those who are united in honouring it. Mary was present in person on Calvary. Do you not believe that this is a work that she is most anxious should be done? Will she not bless all those who join in it, and, as it were, take her place at the deathbed of her children who work, pray, and suffer for the dying?

The little group “lived in their own homes, attended Mass and prayers in common whenever possible; they devoted any free time to good works generally. The pivot of mutual attraction. however, was the nursing of the sick and dying, and all other work moved around the centre.”

“THE DEVIL’S FIRE BRIGADE.”

It has been remarked, cynically perhaps, that the person who begins any good work, especially of a spiritual nature, need neverinsure it against fire, because “the devil’s fire brigade” will see to it that there will be ever at hand an unlimited supply of cold water. This water will be poured forth from every angle, by good-meaning people, who take upon themselves the duty of protecting the rest of us from the fires of an enthusiasm that their lifeless hearts can never understand. Of course, there is a loving Providence watching the work of this fire brigade. After all, the evil spirits themselves have to co-operate for the perfection of the just, to whom “all things work together unto good.” Naturally, this does not refer to that watchful prudence by which Holy Mother the Church protects herself and her children from the aberrations of misguided souls and unbalanced minds.

Mary got her share of attention from those who would protect her from herself. Even her own mother misunderstood her, and I suppose it must be admitted that, all things considered, it was hard to blame her. She, like others, could only see the surface. She could know nothing of the glowing fire within. Perhaps the hardest cross to sensitive natures is to be misunderstood by dear friends, or, worse still, to have one’s motives impugned, or one’s integrity challenged. The Divine Master Himself knew that form of spiritual crucifixion. His saints have shared it with Him.

Imagine, then, Mary Potter’s feelings when she read the following letter from the mother she loved, as only one of her ardent, sensitive nature could love. At the time, Mary had gone to London to see after the publication of her book:

July 11, 1876.

My dear Child,- I write to know when you are returning home. Your continued absence, known to be against my wishes, is giving, I fear, scandal. I wrote to your uncle as you desired, and you evidently thought I was unjust. Not so, my darling; that can never be. You wish to know why 1 wrote to him. You had given me to understand there was an uncertainty about your return, and, instead of a little time to have your book revised, it was all so indefinite; no one could but approve as natural my anxiety for you to return, you being with entire strangers. And now I learn you are intimate with the young woman whose violent temper rendered her immediate dismissal requisite here, I am still more desirous that you return. I have had a letter from my dear cousin Jane, sympathising with me in this trouble; their opinion is expressed in these words: “Mary has set up an idol she calls duty; and filial affection, common sense and reason must alike bow to it.” I must try and not think the same. M. King came to tea and we talked of a society for the dying; she agreed with me that fervent prayer should be offered for them, but she, like me, could not bear the thought that numbers should be in the room at the supreme moment. I have no doubt that we speak the mind of most; as for the poor, they endure, in many cases, what they do not like, and their relatives encourage it (and it is quite natural) for the sake of the little temporal comforts the good and kindhearted would bestow. But on this I do not want to enter now; come home, come and be my comfort. Remember what Canon Rymer wrote you: “If your Mama, by reason of age and infirmities, requires you, you will do well to be with her.” I am sure the highest souls would say the same.

God bless you.

Your anxious, loving mother,

MARY A. POTTER

THE OPPOSITION GROWS

Even his Eminence Cardinal Manning, enlightened and zealous man though he certainly was, was not very impressed by Mary. She went to see him, told him of her plans and asked permission to seek helpers in the Archdiocese of Westminster. He listened patiently, then simply answered, “Let Miss Potter go home to her mother.” Mis- chievously, one loves to wonder what they said to each other later on in heaven! Did he draw a delicate attention to an extra jewel in her crown, so to speak, because a humbled soul said “Fiat” to the representative “of the Sweet Christ on earth”? So is the true apostle fashioned even till this day. The writer has vivid remembrances of the obstacles set in the path of another great movement which was set up to the honour of Mary and for the good of souls-that providential gift of God to the Church of our day-the Legion of Mary. He has seen the saddened expression of its founder when he was looked upon with suspicion, and misunderstood by his friends.

Meanwhile, Mary kept a calm heart and a clear mind. She obeyed the Cardinal. Her programme of these days is outlined in one of her letters to her director:

Our plan of life will be very simple; until I, myself, have a guide to consult upon the penances and other exterior practices, I think it would be better to confine ourselves to the formation of the interior spirit, which will be the imitation of Our Lady. God has not left me in ignorance of what He expects from me, but as I cannot tell those who may joinme what will follow, I shall content myself with striving, by God’s help, to induce them to cultivate a devotion to Our Lady that they may never have had before, and also to desire to devote themselves to saving souls-to do Our Lady’s work of assisting the dying. They will be all the better for these two practices, even if they do not remain. For the present, then, those who come to join me will simply make Meditation (half an hour), recite the Little Office of Our Lady, make the Visit to the Blessed Sacrament, recite the prayers that the Bishop told me, teach in the school, fulfil domestic duties, visit the sick whom Father Horan recommends, and not attempt anything that, while we are not a religious Order, we might not have the grace to perform. The school, however, is not part of my idea.

At this stage, people of the parish of Portsmouth began to talk of Mary as a “madcap.” Her reputation was not enhanced when, impelled by charity, she so far forgot the “proprieties” as to link arms with a very drunken soldier so that he could walk “straight” past the sentry, thereby aiding him to escape punishment by allowing the sentry to believe they were a pair out for a stroll.

THE FIRE IS ALMOST EXTINGUISHED

While the poor still loved her and welcomed her visits, together with those of her companions, whole families ostracised her. Naturally, she could not but feel this keenly.

One can easily see the many, many interior submissions to God’s Will, the many acts of love of God in all this, that went up hourly from the altar of Mary’s heart. Undaunted, the brave little soul held on, even when, as she wrote to her director, her family told her to “get out” or change her way of living. She refused to go, pleading that her mother needed her. She was bluntly told, “She does not want you; she was in capital spirits while you were away.”

All this was bad enough, but worse was to come. It came in the form of the following soul-shattering letter from the Bishop, Dr. Danell:

My dear Miss Potter,—In the most positive and decisive manner possible I forbid you to undertake to found any religious society or order in my diocese. I am surprised that, after my clear prohibition when you called upon me some little time ago, you should have so soon disobeyed me.

You may tell your confessor, Father Selley, he may call on me next Monday morning at 12.

Blessing you,

Yours faithfully,

Looking back now, calmly, it must be admitted that the Bishop had no other course. Letters of accusation kept coming in to him, including one from Mary’s own brother, Thomas.

We get a good insight of her worries from another letter, this time from a Protestant uncle-a Mr. George Saul:

14/8/1876

My dear Mary,

Of course I do not suppose I am infallible, but 1 believe I am quite right in distrusting your judgment and businesslike habits when they are directly the reverse of those of your family, to say nothing of bishops, priests, etc. I am quite sure that did the views of your mother and brothers correspond with your own, they would readily find means to assist you in your plans, and the fact of their opposition shows that you are altogether mistaken. Your apology for secrecy and reticence is very illogical, and it is much better to have a safety valve to your engine than to force it to collapse or explode, as is the case likely to occur in some of your wild-goose schemes. I have some difficulty in crediting you with “a good, loving heart” when I see the anxieties with which you trouble all those who love you, but I suppose persistency in your case is a refined species of obstinacy. Your note has only reached me here, and I hasten to reply that I will be no party in assisting you in this matter, We are enjoying the country, which is quite new to us, but wish it was cooler.

WITH BEST WISHES FOR YOUR REFORMATION,—“ALONE, SEEING NOUGHT.”

When St. John of the Cross, in his lonely prison cell, wrote these words, “Alone, seeing naught save that whereon my soul hath rested,” he touched the bedrock of human dereliction. He had, like Jesus in Gethsemani, drank his cup of sorrow to the very dregs.

Now came Mary’s turn to stand alone beneath the cross- her mystic Calvary. Her director, Father Selley, was forbidden by his Superiors to hold any communication whatsoever with her. Later, they extended this prohibition to the confessional. It is not surprising that one of God’s saints (I think it was St. Gertrude) complained lovingly to Him, “It is no wonder, dear Lord, You have so few friends when You treat them thus.”

As is natural in such a crisis, Mary was now assailed with the most terrible and subtle form of temptation. She thought that all her inspirations, lights, and plans were not from God. She thought that she had been deluded, and that she was to blame for all the storm that had arisen about her, especially for the trouble caused to Father Selley. Her letters to him were returned. To complete her crucifixion came a malignant and painful cancer.

Yet to one of her companions she is able to write:

Many thanks for your letter and the olive leaf enclosed. I value it so much, having come from Mount Olivet. May it be a little token that the storm has subsided, either regarding my work or myself. Do not trouble over me, my time may not have come yet; God may wish me to go through in myself what those who come after me will have to endure. Those who are to show the way must first have gone by it. Those who join this work dedicated to Calvary may be required, as it were, to “die daily,” to lead a dying life, to constantly offer their lives to show their willingness to lay them down if required. The constant acts that they would thus make might be accepted by God for the assistance of the dying. All day yesterday (Feast of the Presentation), especially, I was, to so speak, face to face with death, offering myself gladly, only with the feeling, which everyone in a right spirit must know, of how utterly unworthy I was and that I had done nothing. If we could not turn in trust to Our Lord, what should we do? For years back I have thought much of death, and lived expecting it, longed for it. These last few years have, perhaps, been intended by God to put into me the spirit which He wishes possessed by those who join the work of Calvary. It may be simply that God wishes me to possess and make known to others this spirit-to constantly offer their lives to God and yet not to die, like Our Lady on Calvary. We must all try and possess her spirit, that it may live in us. . . . . . .

One word of warning here. We must not get the idea that Mary Potter was one of those self -conscious, mis- guided souls with a sad face and the pose of a martyr. The very opposite is the truth. Actually, she blames her lively manner, her refusal to be cast down, as giving the false impression that she was not the type to undertake the serious work of founding a religious Order. After all, we know that great sanctity is the outcome of the action of the Holy Spirit and that among the fruits of this action are peace and joy. Abiding peace and serene joy are the infallible marks of the true mystic. They are the test of true humility and unswerving love.

It will help us to preserve a proper perspective of her life if we recall the great fact that she had long since given herself, body and soul, mind and heart, to the Mother of God to be her slave-to be done with as Mary willed. Such an attitude gives stability and confidence.

Did she not write, in her “Path of Mary,” published during the very days of trial, these words that are the echo of her own soul:

“Now it should ever be remembered that hope is one of the evangelical virtues which must be cultivated as carefully as faith and love. God loves us to hope in Him. He will have mercy on us according to our trust in Him and He would have you recollect that though the essence of this devotion is that we give our service to God because it is honest and just to do so, whether we are promised reward or not, because by right He deserves it from us and because by offering our service by Mary makes it more pleasing to Him, still Mary’s own look forward to a reward; they look and long for their home in Heaven; but with the truthfulness engendered by this devotion they look forward to it and long for it as a pure mercy of God which no service of theirs could have deserved or earned. Mary’s own walk more confidently, more hopefully through this very knowledge, and their humble hope is well pleasing to God, and according to their hope it will be done to them.

“If you would be loved with a special love by our dear Lord, imitate the patient, gentle Mother, who stood with breaking heart at the foot of the Cross, joining her tears with the blood that was there shed, with such ardent love, that souls might be saved; imitate that sweet Mother who, in the midst of suffering such as no other purely human heart has ever known, thought not of her own grief, but as a means of invoking what Jesus drew upon this world, the mercy of God, that beautiful attribute of God which, adorable as are all the divine attributes, we inhabitants of the fallen world must ever love with a peculiar love, and which it is the office of our own Mother Mary (the Mother of Mercy) to reflect.

“Let us, then, in time of suffering be unselfish, and knowing that it is the time when we can pray most effi- caciously-for the prayer of the suffering heart has wondrous power with God-let us, united to the Compassionate Maternal Heart of Mary, join in offering the Precious Blood, the outpoured life of Jesus, and beg the mercy of God and that His Holy Spirit may descend upon the Church, the Spouse of Christ, now persecuted as was her Lord.”

AT LAST! THE LITTLE COMPANY OF MARY

When there was no room in the inn, Providence led Mary and Joseph to seek the cheerless shelter of Bethlehem’s humble stable. Yet what young mother in a gilded palace ever tastes the rapturous joy of that radiant Mother when she beheld the “Joy of Angels” resting on her bosom.

Just when every door seemed closed and tightly barred, when human prudence seemed to have omitted nothing to make its end prevail, just then, suddenly, unexpectedly, Mary Potter found the cave that was to cradle her infant foundation. It was to be in the then little village of Hyson Green, about two miles from Nottingham. The Bishop was Dr. Bagshawe.

It happened that a certain Mr. Young had read her “Path of Mary:” It had such an influence on his life that he at once offered her a portion of his fortune if she would organise some charitable work in Lincolnshire in honour of Our Blessed Lady. At the same time, he offered to interview Bishop Bagshawe. Strangely enough, one of Mary’s brothers, George, also interested himself, and wrote to the Bishop. Just before Father Selley had been forbidden to interest himself in Mary Potter’s work, he, too, had written to the same Bishop. Dr. Bagshawe consented, and at once Mary set out to prepare for the foundation. Before leaving home she asked her mother a consent. It was abruptly ref used. Mary left home without it.

There was, of course, much to be done. All her old helpers now gathered round eager to form themselves into a regular religious society. The interested reader will find all the details of the inevitable ups and downs, of disappointments and failures, recorded in her biography.

An old disused factory was procured. It was in an almost complete state of dilapidation. The villagers regarded it at rubbish heap. To Mary it was a little bit of heaven, as was the stable at Bethlehem to Mary and Joseph.

At long last the opening ceremony was fixed for Easter Monday, April 2, 1877. Protestants as well as Catholics helped to make it ready. The Bishop sang the Mass and dedicated the convent to the Maternal Heart of Mary. Though the building was unfurnished, the Bishop left the Blessed Sacrament with them. A chaplain was appointed. The new society was born, though it had yet to receive its name. The period of patient waiting was rewarded.

The Bishop took a fatherly interest. A roughly drawn Rule of Life was formulated. After various suggestions as to a name-such as “Sisters of Mater Dolorosa,” or “Mary’s Own,” the Bishop declared that Mary’s choice of the “Little Company of Mary” should be adopted. “I think,” he remarked, “she had light on the matter and the best right to settle it.”

A MANNEQUIN PARADE!

Well at least that is what it looked like. It concerned the question of an appropriate dress. This is how it is described in the biography:

“The discussion regarding the appropriate dress afforded amusement. Mary Eleanor Smith was frequently called on to play the part of “Mannequin.” She dressed up and was paraded before the Bishop and Community to demonstrate each idea as it was discussed. Mary proposed a plain habit of coarse sackcloth or canvas, with a pale blue veil; some wanted a brown habit, and others voted for a black one.

“The Bishop, who was strongly opposed to the sackcloth, approved a black tunic and scapular, a black leather cinc- ture, a rosary of fifteen decades, a white linen headdress and a pale blue veil. Except for a few modifications, by which the chaplet of five decades was substituted for the large rosary, and the leather belt replaced by a red woolen cord, the habit was identical with that worn today.

“The first clothing ceremony took place on July 2. In that year, 1877, this day was a double festival-the Feast of the Most Precious Blood, and the Feast of the Visitation. Bishop Bagshawe arrived in the afternoon, preached the sermon, and gave the habit to Mary and her five companions. Mary took the name of Mary Angela; Mrs. Bryan became Mary Elizabeth-later changed to Magdalen, by which name she was known throughout her life; Mary Bray chose the name of Agnes; Mary Eleanor Smith, Cecilia; Edith Coleridge, Philip; and another postulant who, however, did not persevere, became Sister Joseph.

“Once again the chapel was crowded and outside in the streets crowds of villagers stood waiting to have a look at the new Sisters with the blueveils.”

MARY AND MARTHA

To live with Mary in spirit at the feet of Jesus, while serving Him with Martha in the persons of the sick and dying, was ever the ideal of Mary Potter for herself and her Institute.

It is the theme of all her writings. It is, of course, the summing up of all spiritual wisdom. In later years she thus expressed her thoughts in a conference for the Feast of St Martha: “As Martha and Mary were sisters, united together and loving, so may prayer and work be sisters in our lives that they may ever go hand in hand and never be disunited.”

She wanted her nuns to be as efficient as trained nurses, as they would be perfect as religious. “Be good nuns first,” she used to say, “and then you’ll be good nurses.” She had a positive horror of allowing any work, no matter how pressing, to interfere with, or swamp, their spiritual lives. Alas! we have everyday experience to prove the wisdom of such watchful care. She knew that souls in a hurry, even souls in religion, never go far in the things of God, or do much lasting good to others. It was not so much work she feared, as the way in which it was done.

The months following the foundation were a time of testing. Work of all kinds came along, teaching as well as nursing. Besides, they had not even beds to sleep on, and food was scarce. “The school-room was converted into a dormitory at night and we slept on sacks filled with straw, laid on the floor or on hard, wooden benches.”

It was, perhaps, only to be expected that the strain of all that was entailed would tell. It did. Mary became seriously ill; a malignant growth was discovered in the breast. Jestingly she asked permission to dispose of some “common property” when she wanted the Bishop’s consent to its removal. This operation had to be followed by another. A year later she contracted scarlet fever from a poor woman she was nursing.

FURTHER TRIALS AND DIFFICULTIES

The work progressed. New members were being received and professed. There were, of course, the usual difficulties of unsuitable candidates, and many disappointments.

The most serious of these difficulties was a growing divergence between Mary and Bishop Bagshawe on the question of authority, as well as in the drawing up of a Rule of Life. Actually, she found herself no longer Superior. She accepted cheerfully the Bishop’s orders. Soon she was appointed Mistress of. Novices. Later, the Bishop admitted that he had simply been trying her, in every way he could think of, and that never once did she fail him. When he was satisfied that she was of the true spirit, he changed his attitude and, at a formal chapter held under his direction, she was unanimously elected Superior.

Still, all this did not settle her problem of a Rule of life. It was becoming clear to her that only by going to Rome could she ever hope to have the growing Institute placed on a sure basis. Accordingly, this became the object of special prayer, and at last Providence so decreed. The Bishop gave his consent, much to everybody’s surprise. Mother Mary, with two sisters, set out for Rome. The Bishop later admitted that he gave his consent because he thought it was the last request of a woman near to death.

AVE ROMA IMMORTALIS!

His is indeed a benumbed spirit whose heart does not exult as he catches the first glimpse of Rome, with old St. Peter’s in silhouette, guarding the Eternal City.

Ave Roma Immortalis! Hail Immortal Rome! Mistress of the world, Teacher of the nations, Home of the arts -but, greater, aye, far, greater than all these proud titles-Fountain of Truth-Throbbing Heart of the Christian world-Sole Guardian of the Treasury of the Faith. What a host of memories crowd the chambers of the mind at the mention of that one word-Rome! Pilgrims from the wide world have trod its storied streets and prayed within its hallowed walls; and centre of all-object of the world’s veneration-is the simple whiteclad figure of “The Sweetest Christ on Earth.”

One can easily imagine how the joyous spirit, the buoyant heart of Mary Potter exulted when, at last, on October 10, 1882, after a weary journey of ten days, Rome loomed in sight. We are told that Mother Mary fell on her knees and said the Magnificat-”Our Lady’s Te Deum,” in thanks-offering for the vision.

POPE LEO XIII

No time was lost in procuring an audience with the Holy Father, Pope Leo XIII. This took place on the day following their arrival. On the next Sunday they had the still greater privilege of being present at the Holy Father’s Mass, receiving Holy Communion from him and afterwards being presented to him.

This last interview changed the whole course of things. When Mary asked his Holiness to bless her work and the Constitutions, she added that, with his blessing, she would be content to go back to England. To her joy and amazement the Holy Father replied: “But why go back? Why not remain? The doors of Rome are open to you.”

Actually, we know she had been praying during the journey to know if God willed her to make a foundation in Rome. Here, with a directness that was not far short of miraculous, was the answer. The Vicar of Christ had spoken and invited her to establish a home within the walls of the Eternal City. There she was to spend the remaining years of her life.

ROMAN DAYS

There was the usual round of visits, official and otherwise, that every person in Mary’s position is expected to carry out. All the work of having the Constitutions approved had to be gone through. At one period she was advised to return to England, as it would take many months to have everything arranged.

Mary was not going back. The Holy Father himself had invited her to stay, and she was not the type to miss an opportunity or an inspiration to do good.

She discovered that there was much need for a convent and hospital for the English community in Rome. Some Sisters were sent from England and Mary set to work.

They had considerable difficulty in procuring a suitable house. They had been going from one convent to another. Now that there were more Sisters actually on their way, something had to be done.

Just then, Providence provided a good and lifelong friend in the person of Father Luke Carey, O.F.M. (he died only in 1924), who was then attached to the Irish Franciscan College of St. Isidore. It is thus described in the biography:

“Hearing of their predicament, Father Luke Carey, O.F.M., came to their assistance. He secured for them an apartment near the church of the Irish Franciscans, Sant” Isidoro. Here, for the first time since coming to Rome, they were able to live a regular community life. They had their own little oratory, with the Blessed Sacrament reserved. Once more Mother Mary’s prophecy was fulfilled:

“When we begin to work Our Lord will begin with us.” They went out regularly to do private nursing; soon their work began to be appreciated, and they were brought into contact with many friends and benefactors. Father Luke Carey remained one of their staunchest supporters all his life.”

They stayed in this apartment for about two years. It was a hard struggle financially. Two Sisters went out every day to beg. Often the cupboard was bare. At the end of two years of this precarious existence, Count Plunkett, an Irishman (his son Joseph was executed after the 1916 rebellion), obtained better accommodation and secured the rent Here they were able to establish a novitiate, as well as take a few patients. Ten years later, in 1894, a larger house was rented near Porta Pia.

“CALVARY”

In 1907 came her masterpiece -the Calvary Hospital, near the church of San Stephano Rotondo, on the Coelian Hill. As usual, everybody opposed her. They disagreed with the site- and these included eminent Cardinals They disagreed with the plans, and these included eminent architects. They disagreed with the title chosen for her chapel, and these included a Papal Master of Ceremonies! They said the title, “Maternal Heart of Mary” was not in use, and suggested the “Immaculate Heart of Mary.” Mary held on. In the end, Pope Pius X ordered that Mary’s choice prevail, and so the chapel was consecrated on October 11, 1908-to the Maternal Heart of Mary. The architects told her the plan was impossible. Mother Mary’s plan was in the shape of a Latin cross with a heart-shaped chapel in the centre. The right arm of the cross was reserved for her community; the left arm, hospice for visitors; the head of the cross was to be for ecclesiastical patients; and the main body of the cross for the general public.

Of course, she got her way. What could eminent Cardinals, eminent architects and Papal Masters of Ceremonies do against the prayers of a soul that prays and lives in the Maternal Heart of Mary? Generations of priests scattered throughout the world, especially the English-speaking world, have lived to bless Mother Mary Potter and her Blue Veiled Nuns for the skilful nursing that brought them through the severe strain of student days in Rome. For them “Calvary” was, and is, a hospital and a home.

AUSTRALIA!

While all this was going on, and while many other pressing problems were calling for attention, such as the final approval of the Constitutions-in 1884-came an insistent call from a far-off southern land, dedicated long before to the Holy Spirit of Love. The insistent voice was that of Cardinal Moran. The land was our own Australia. Nottingham, Rome, Lewisham-that was the order of her first trinity of houses. It took no small courage to send her nuns so far away, when, as yet, it might be reasonably feared that the spirit of her Order was not yet sufficiently developed. However, all obstacles were brushed aside and six members of the Little Company of Mary-five from England and one from Rome-accompanied the Cardinal when he returned in 1885. Though very ill, Mary made the journey to Naples to farewell and bless the pioneers. Mother Raphael was chosen as Superior. The following account of their arrival is taken from a journal kept by one of the Sisters:

“While we were going up the Harbour we heard on all sides from the boats and steam launches that had come out to meet the “Liguria,” “Welcome to Australia. Three cheers for the good old nuns! Good luck and prosperity attend you.”

“Our kind friend, Mr. Fleming, whom Dr. O”Haran had asked to look after us, pointed out Rose Bay and the Convent of the Sacred Heart, such a beautiful place, with gardens running down to the water’s edge. The Sisters were all out in the grounds waving to us in welcome. We arrived at Circular Quay, where Mr. Fleming had a carriage and pair waiting for us. After some time, we all landed and were very pleased to find ourselves safe as land again.

“As we drove along, the people in the streets called out as we passed, “Welcome to Australia! Good luck to you and God bless you.” Some of the old women went down on their knees in the street, invoking all kinds of blessings on us. People were out on balconies waving to us, and there were such crowds on all sides, until we turned into Darlinghurst, the suburb where our little cottage is.

“We were driven to the Convent of the Irish Sisters of Charity, which is quite close to our little house. We received a most hearty welcome from the dear Sisters. The Rev. Mother Rectress and Mother Francis were at the door to greet us and to welcome us to Sydney.

“We paid a visit to the Blessed Sacrament in thanksgiving for our safe journey and to ask our dear Lord to bless and prosper Our Lady’s Little Company in Sydney. The dear Sisters had a nice dinner prepared for us, and after we had rested we went over the grounds and they all joined us and we had recreation together.

“In the evening we were taken to our little cottag e, where we were received by Mother Gertrude and Sister Bonaventure, who welcomed us. They had prepared a nice little altar of Our Lady, with a statue and four lighted candles. We all knelt down and said the “Memorare,” and some “Hail Marys” to ask Our Lady to bless her children.

Then the kind Sisters showed us over the house, where they had prepared everything for us, even to stocking the larder and having the kettle boiling on the kitchen fire.

We shall never forget their kindness.”

Today the word “Lewisham” in Australia stands for the perfection of the nursing Sister. Other foundations followed in due course at Ryde, Wagga and Lake Macquarie, in N.S.W.; as well as in Adelaide, Melbourne and Hobart. In New Zealand, they are established at Christchurch and Wellington.

IN THE OLD WORLD

Few founders of religious Institutes have been privileged to live to see so many off-shoots of the parent plant as Mary Potter. Almost every year saw a new foundation. Today there are four in Ireland-at Limerick, Milford, Fermoy and Carlow; three in London, with others at Edinburgh, Hillingdon, St. Leonards-on-Sea, and Cannock. There is one at Malta, at Fiesole in Italy, one at Buenos Aires in South America, one in Port Elizabeth, South Africa; and one in Chicago. So has the tiny seed prospered. So has the Maternal Heart of Mary-the Mediatrix of all graces- rewarded trusting souls.

EVENTIDE

It has been said that good characters, like good wine, sweeten with age. God does not have to wait for Eternity to punish or reward. The advancing day may bring, usually does bring, a certain amount of necessary disillusionment to the bright dreams of early morning. The man of Faith knows all that and awaits the calm evening of life with Faith undimmed, heart undismayed. Some astronomer wrote these words for his tombstone:

“I have spent my life among the stars and I do not fear the night.”

Mary Potter had spent her life close to the Maternal Heart of the Immaculate Virgin. It sheltered her in the early morning, it protected her in the blaze of noonday, and became, more than ever, her resting place as the evening shadows deepened into night. The useless regrets, the disappointed bitterness of soul, that mar the peace of the selfseeking had no place in her life. Life could take nothing from her who had the fulness of God.

During the last few years she became a complete invalid.

“She could not lie down, and was obliged to retain, even when sleeping, an upright position. Periodically she had severe attacks of fever, which left her thoroughly exhausted, and for several years she was unable to digest or retain solid food. To these torments was added the distress caused by a tumour in the shoulder-joint of her left arm, which pulsated like the sharp pangs of a discipline administered unceasingly.

“Mother Mary’s cell, now the private oratory of the Mother House, was accessible to all who needed her advice. The door was always open, and neither her physical sufferings nor her weakness were permitted to interfere with the duties of her office. She received all who came to her with a welcoming smile and affectionate words. Her sweetness of manner, and the keen interest she showed in all their affairs, belied the seriousness of her condition, and often visitors, as well as many of her own Sisters, failed to realise how really ill she was.”

Numberless are the anecdotes of her wonderful charity, of extraordinary answers to her prayers; of her boundless trust in the Maternal Heart of Mary. She had, in particular, a most extraordinary devotion to the priesthood. Priests were the object of her special love and solicitude:

“Just as she had reserved the head of the cross in her material design especially for those sufferers dedicated to God so she gave to priests in general the chief place in her prayers, her sufferings and her actions. She offered herself a victim daily for them, particularly those who had become outcasts from the Mystical Body of Christ”

There was, of course, besides, her unceasing solicitude for the dying. Withal there was the same happy, almost irrepressible, spirit that, in her early days, so alarmed the serious Godfrey King. Like all people gifted with a keen appreciation of the weakness of poor human nature, she ever preserved a saving sense of humour.

HER WRITINGS

One last legacy she left to her Sisters, and. for that matter, to all souls treading the Path of Mary, and this was a series of spiritual writings-entirely devoted to the practice of De Montfort’s True Devotion. These were the fruit of long hour of prayerful meditation, penetrating study and mature deliberation, strengthened by a long experience of the needs of souls striving after the perfect service of God through Mary. They have received unstinted approval from both the clergy and the laity. The list comprises:- “The Spiritual Exercises of Mary.”

“The Human Life of Jesus.”

“God’s Human Family.”

“Man Mirroring His Maker” (for students to the priesthood).

“Mary’s Conferences.”

“Mary’s Call.”

“Our Lady’s Retreat”

“Brides of Christ.”

“May Papers.”

“Loves in the Heart of Mary.”

“Saturday.”

“Spiritual Maternity” (for Superiors).

All these can be procured at Lewisham Hospital, Sydney, or from any other Convent of the Little Company of

Mary.

Of these, “The Spiritual Exercises of Mary” is of exceptional value as an immediate preparation for undertaking the Holy Slavery of Mary.

THE CALVARY CONFRATERNITY

One other work of Mary Potter deserves mention. That is the “Calvary Confraternity for the Dying.” it is an effort to enlist the co-operation of all Catholics in a league of constant prayer for those in their agony. This union of prayer was approved by Pope Leo XIII. It was enriched with several indulgences by the Sacred Congregation in July, 1895. Since then, various Popes have added their signatures to the growing number of those who daily pray for the dying. No special prayer is imposed. The only obligation is to pray daily for those who are in their agony.

“PRECIOUS . . . IS THE DEATH OF HIS SAINTS”

During the winter of 1912, Mother Mary had a succession of heart attacks and high fevers. Spring brought no change. On April 1, a novena was begun to obtain a recovery.

When it became known that the end was near, crowds began to gather, pressing for a last look at the woman they regarded as a saint. Pope Pius X sent a special blessing. Cardinals and other eminent ecclesiastics called daily. Her sufferings were intense, but her serenity and peace were unsurpassable.

On April 4, Father Luke Carey, O.F.M., from the Irish Franciscan College, “loyal and faithful friend,” celebrated Mass in her room and administered the Last Sacraments.

Finally, on the evening of Wednesday, April 9, 1913, at 6.15 pm., the end came. The Community had been summoned. While Father Benedict Williamson, who had known Mother Mary since his student days, read the commendation of a departing soul, Mother Mary Potter, without “sob or resistance” peacefully, faithfully, made her last act of surrender to the All Holy Will of God, as a Slave of Mary.

PRAYER FOR THE BEATIFICATION OF MOTHER MARY POTTER In accordance with the usual procedure of the Church, the following prayer has been approved for private use only: “O Almighty and Eternal God, Who dost glorify those who glorify Thee, and Who hast vouchsafed to give us in

Thy servant, Mother Mary Potter, a wonderful example of every virtue, and especially of charity, love for Jesus in the Most Holy Eucharist, and of His Blessed Mother at the foot of the Cross when the sword of sorrow her maternal heart had pierced, compassion for the poor and suffering, zeal for souls, and abandonment to Thy Most Holy Will, grant, we beseech Thee, that imitating her virtues, we may be able to overcome our inordinate passions, and grow in the love of Jesus and Mary and in compassion for the poor and suffering humanity.

“And, if it be in accordance with the designs of Thy most holy Will that this, Thy servant, should be glorified by the Church, deign by Thy heavenly favours to manifest the power that she enjoys in Thy sight. All this we ask through the merits of Jesus Christ Our Lord, Who with Thee and the Holy Ghost liveth and reigneth for ever and ever. Amen.

“Our Father, Hail Mary, and Glory . . .

MOTHER’S LAST WORDS

It is finished: Most blessed words. Sweet Jesus: It is finished. Can it be this world is finished for me? What happy work; was it weary work? Oh no; there may have been one view of the road that frightened weak human nature, where we saw the road. Its dangers, its seeming darkness, we saw as it were all the trials, the struggles in one view, we saw them without Thee, Sweet Jesus. Yes, as many view the Cross without the loving, beauteous Body. Yes, without the loving Jesus on it, how hard was the Cross? We set out with the brightness of Spring, hopeful, happy, but was it the ending of our long journey? To what can we compare this rest of spirit, this content of our last days, of earth? Jesus, speak for me to my children, for I would bid them farewell in words that would encourage them, and urge them on. What shall I tell them from the heart too full of words? What I speak I speak from Thee, for Thou dost live in me. Thou art more present to me than I am to myself. Thou hast lived, and I have laboured from Thy indwelling in me, and my labours have been labours of love. Happy has been my life, God’s mercy would have it so. Too full of joy for a sinful creature of earth, living in sinful world, but Thou wouldst have it so. Thou wouldst have me glorify Thee. Angels guard the house where God evoked so great a work; visited by the Blessed Trinity has been that earthly humble house. Give it to my children, keep it for them, and let prayers and praise be offered there. St. Cecilia, thy palace pleased thee when consecrated as a church, for this you prayed and suffered. Offer now a prayer and give to mine my house where Jesus loved and bound me to Himself. This I ask if it be pleasing to the Most High. “Abba Father” of my Lord Jesus Christ, from Mary’s arms, from Mary’s heart, I send my prayer as I thank Thee in these days for all Thou hast done for me. I give to Thee the life Thou gavest me. Mother, speak for Thy child whose heart so full must break if much more love be poured into it. Angels raise your voice. Thank my God for child of earth, unworthy. Saints praise Him for His power. His condescension to a sinful child of earth may soil the soul that hastens to her God, her journey ended, her work finished, hidden in the Heart of Jesus. Ended, my God. Is it possible? The years have flown so swiftly. My God, the days you showed me gave me choice, when longing so to come to Thee, live to save sinners or die and go and enjoy Thee? Since then, what has been!

Nihil obstat:

F. MOYNIHAN, Censor Deputatus.

Imprirnatur:

@ DANIEL MANNIX,

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis.

******** .

PREFACE

The subject of this booklet appeared as an article in the Irish Ecclesiastical Record and is reproduced by kind permission of the Editor of that Review, At the request of the . . . the article has been expanded. If it imparts a clearer knowledge of Mary’s unique role in God’s plan for the salvation of the world and arouses greater devotion to her in the hearts of its readers the writer’s labours will be amply rewarded. Like the earliest biographer of the Seraphic St. Francis of Assisi, the author rejoices that his Order was commended in a special way to Mary, indeed was cradled in ‘the little portion of Mary.’ The same biographer tells us that the Seraphic saint embraced her with an unspeakable love forasmuch as she made the Lord of majesty our brother. There is true Franciscan intuition in those words.

Mother of God, Mother of Men

BY FATHER HILARY, O.F.M.CAP

INDEX

Very early in the book of Genesis we are told that Adam called his wife’s name Eve because she was the mother of all the living. We might suspect a divine irony in those words of the Holy Spirit because before ever Eve became a mother she had sinned and led Adam into that sin which had death for its wages and so she merited rather to be called the mother of all the dead. Eve had to suffer for her sin. With dismay she heard the divine judgment of banishment and pain and woe; but even as the dread sentence of God’s justice fell upon her ears there came with it a promise which cheered Adam and herself and gave joy and hope to the many generations which followed them until that promise became a blessed reality in the fulness of time. To the infernal serpent the Lord God said: ‘I will put enmities between thee and the woman and thy seed and her seed.’ In these words of the Lord is presaged another Woman whose enmity with the devil will be as absolute as the enmity of her Seed, the Divine Word made Man, a woman who will be associated with the Redeemer in crushing the head of the serpent. The Son of God became man ‘that He might destroy him who had the empire of death, that is to say the devil.’ Thus from the very dawn of revelation the Woman and her Child are placed together by God Himself.

“HAIL, FULL OF GRACE . . ,”

It took long centuries for God to prepare mankind for the fulfilment of this promise. But when the fulness of time was come the bountiful Lord admirably made good His word. Then, as St. Paul writes to the Galatians, God sent his Son, made of a woman, made under the law that he might redeem them that were under the law, that we might receive the adoption of sons. From the beginning and before all ages He had chosen the Woman who was to be His Mother. To her predestination the Church applies in a spiritual sense, intended by the Holy Ghost, words which primarily apply to the eternal generation of the divine Word. ‘I was set up from eternity and of old, before the earth was made. The depths were not as yet and I was already conceived. . . . When he prepared the heavens I was present. . . . I was with him forming all things.” The one chosen was the humblest maiden of all the people of God, the lowliest of all the children of men. Whilst nearly all young Israelite maidens laid up in their heart the hope that they might perhaps be the woman of promise, the Virgin whose name was Mary never dreamt of such an honour for herself. One day as Mary, the virgin of Nazareth, the comely daughter of Joachim and Anne, poured out her soul in prayer in her lowly home, the Archangel Gabriel was sent to her by God with a breath-taking message. Being come in to her he said: ‘Hail, full of grace, the Lord is with thee.’ The humility of the prudent virgin took fright at this unusual greeting. The Greek word translated ‘full of grace’ is used instead of Mary’s proper name and it means one endowed permanently with grace or favour. Little wonder that Mary was troubled at his word and kept wondering what this greeting might mean. Her trouble was set at rest by the heavenly messenger who said to her: ‘Fear not, Mary, for thou has found grace with God.’ Then he went on to unfold to her the divine plan of redemption.

‘Behold, thou shalt conceive in the womb and shalt bring forth a son; and thou shalt call his name Jesus. He shall be great and shall be called the son of the Most High; and the Lord God will give him the throne of David, his father, and he shall rule over the house of David forever; and of his kingdom there shall be no end.’ These words left no doubt in Mary’s mind that she was being offered the motherhood of the Messiah, nay more, the motherhood of God. But again she wonders, not doubting the power of God as Zachary did, and she asked: ‘ How can this be done for I know not man?’ These words, as Catholic tradition holds, point to the fact that Mary had vowed her virginity to God even though she had entered into marriage with Joseph. Once more the archangel set her mind at rest by explaining to her the admirable design of the Creator: ‘ The Holy Ghost shall come upon thee and the power of the Most High shall overshadow thee and therefore the Holy One that shall be born of thee shall be called the Son of God.’ What a marvellous plan! The whole human race had fallen in Adam, its head; all mankind is to be redeemed by the new Adam, the true Head of the race. Eve cooperated with Adam in the downfall of man; the new Eve was chosen by God to co-operate with the new Adam in the restoration of the race. So is she the true Mother of all the living. She plays an essential role in the working out of the redemption, and she is the only human person who does. She was predestined and chosen in the same decree of divine providence as her Son. To minimize or overlook Mary’s part is to reject the Incarnation as God willed it and falsify God’s design. It is just as important to believe that Jesus was born of the Virgin Mary as to believe that He was conceived of the Holy Ghost as the Creeds remind us. The early Fathers of the Church pay eloquent to Mary’s role as the Second Eve through whose co-operation the world was redeemed.

MARY’S DECISION

Mary was chosen, but she also freely chose. In His courtesy towards man God asked her consent, to be given on behalf of all mankind, to the espousals of human nature by the divine Word. From all eternity of course God knew that she would fall in with His designs; but yet her consent was free and richly meritorious. Not a moment did she hesitate as soon as the divine plan had been explained to her, but made that perfect reply ‘Behold the handmaid of the Lord; be it done unto me according to thy word.’ This was the word for which heaven, earth and hell waited breathlessly. If Mary consented heaven would have a new queen, earth would be redeemed, hell would be finally defeated. Mary’s words were the most perfect answer to God’s invitation. By them God got His way absolutely in the soul of Mary. Her Fiat meant a new creation in grace for mankind; her Ecce ancilla Domini was the echo of the words of her divine Son who at that very instant had become man in her womb: Ecce venio; ‘Behold I come to do thy will, O God.’ Mary’s submission to the divine will of the Father was as absolute as that of Jesus. And so it was immensely meritorious. From her reading of the prophets, especially Isaias, she knew that in consenting to be the Mother of the Messiah she was to share in His sorrows, that she was to become the Mother of Sorrows and the Queen of Martyrs. Theologians teach that Mary’s grace was vastly increased at the moment of the Annunciation because of her perfect conformity to the will of God as well as because the divine Word then took up His abode in her.

MOTHER OF GOD

No sooner was the Blessed Virgin’s consent given than the Word was made flesh and dwelt among us. The Messiah so long expected and desired was our Emmanuel; the Incarnation was a fact, man’s redemption had begun. At that blessed moment Mary became in literal truth the Mother of God. This is a fundamental dogma of our Catholic faith and indeed a touchstone of orthodox belief in the Incarnation of the divine Word. It was solemnly defined at the Council of Ephesus in the year 431 against the insidious heresy of Nestorius. This Patriarch of Constantinople objected to Mary’s title Mother of God and contended that she should be styled only Mother of Christ. His error was a complete misunderstanding of the hypostatic Union of the divine with the human nature in the one Person of the Word. Nestorius held that there were two persons in Christ, the one human, the other divine. Mary was, in his view, only the Mother of the human person and therefore could not be styled Mother of God. This heresy struck at the very foundations of the doctrine of the Incarnation and the Redemption. The true teaching is that there is no human person in Christ but only the divine which subsists in two natures. We do not claim that Mary is the Mother of the divinity which exists from all eternity, but she is the Mother of the divine Person. St. Leo the Great wrote that just as the mother of an ordinary human being is the mother of the whole being, not merely of the body, although she begets only the body, so Mary is truly the mother of the divine Person of the Word. Nestorius found a doughty opponent in St. Cyril of Alexandria who pointed out that the term Theotokos was consecrated among the Fathers and doctors of the Church from early times and had even been used by Julian the Apostate. Cyril’s teaching was defined by the Council of Ephesus amid the plaudits of the Christian people who accompanied the Fathers of the Council to their lodgings with lighted torches. The Christian consciousness of the faithful realized that a basic dogma had been vindicated. The definition of the Council was couched in these words: If anybody does not confess that Emmanuel is truly God, and that the holy Virgin is therefore “Theotokos” (Mother of God), since she brought forth according to the flesh the Word of God who became flesh, let him be anathema.’ The Person of the Word, the term of Mary’s motherhood, is identical with that of the fatherhood of the First Person of the Blessed Trinity. To Jesus Christ the eternal Father and Mary could both say with perfect truth: ‘ Thou art my beloved on, this day have I begotten thee.’

It is true that in Sacred Scripture Mary is not called in so many words ‘ Mother of God,’ but Scripture is not the sole rule of faith. The New Testament, however, frequently calls her the Mother of Jesus, and surely according to the Gospels and Epistles Jesus is God. The archangel declared that Mary’s child would be called the Son of the Most High. Elizabeth, filled with the Holy Ghost, greeted Mary as the Mother of my Lord. St. Gregory Nazianzen writes that anyone who does not believe Mary to be the Mother of God is far from God. Luther himself, in one of his more lucid moments, could write: ‘All Mary’s glory is implied in calling her the Mother of God. And nobody can proclaim anything greater about her than that.’ St. Thomas Aquinas, the prince of Theologians, speaks of her dignity as all but infinite. Jesus Christ is essentially Son of God and Son of Mary, Son of God by His eternal generation by the Father, Son of Man by His conception in the fulness of time in the chaste womb of the Virgin Mary. Thus Mary can he said to enter the hypostatic order, or, as some of the Fathers of the Church put it, to border on the confines of the divinity.

Perhaps we have grown too used to the title ‘Mother of God,’ and, as the poet says, use lessens marvel. But when we reflect on it we realize at least dimly the all but infinite dignity bestowed by God upon a child of Adam’s race. The Man-God was her very own child, bone of her bone and flesh of her flesh, yet He was also God, the Word who eternally proceeds from the Father, who with the Father breathes forth the Holy Ghost. To what dizzy heights does not this lead our minds. But contemplate it how we will Mary’s dignity remains a sublime mystery the contemplation of which will rejoice our souls eternally, The title Theotokos is a summary of the whole mystery of the Incarnation, a touchstone of orthodoxy. To deny her that title is to make shipwreck of the faith. St. John Damascene wrote: ‘The word Theotokos implies the whole mystery of the Incarnation, for if she who conceived and brought forth is Mother of God, then surely He who is born of her is God. But He is also fully man.’

CONCEIVED WITHOUT SIN

The Son of God was Mary’s Son too. He had for her all the tender affection which a good son bestows upon his mother. He chose her before all ages and, in the words of liturgy made her a fitting dwelling-place for the godhead. Now when God loves He gives—love is the gift of self. He gave to His Mother with a truly divine profusion. The fulness of grace was hers from the first moment of her conception, and grace, as we know is the life of God shared by the creature. Mary, it is true, had need of redemption because she was a child of Adam. The Church has defined that Mary’s Immaculate Conception is a singular privilege of grace bestowed on her in view of the merits of Jesus Christ, the Saviour of the human race. Her redemption therefore was unique. All others are redeemed by being freed from original sin which they have contracted in their conception. She was redeemed by being preserved from original sin by the infusion of sanctifying grace in the very instant of her conception. In her Magnificat she sang ‘He that is mighty hath done great things to me and holy is His name.’ So did God prepare for himself a worthy mother, untouched by sin, full of divine life, never for an instant in the power of the infernal serpent which deceived Eve. Mary’s fulness of grace and immunity from sin imply that she was free also from the harmful consequences of sin. That is why Christians style her Mater Amabilis, Mother most lovable, since it is sin and its consequences that mar the lovableness of a human being. We are all attracted by the innocence of a child; something of the divine seems to shine out from those candid eyes; and yet that child has been touched at least by original sin. What then must be the lovableness and attractiveness of Mary, more innocent than any child? Sinlessness is but the negative aspect of Mary’s Immaculate Conception. The positive aspect is her fulness of grace which made her God’s masterpiece, the most beautiful soul ever created by God if we except the soul of her divine Son to which hers was most like. The infused virtues were hers in the highest degree; the gifts of the Holy Ghost were poured out in profusion upon her. Her soul was as a lyre responsive to the slightest touch of the divine Musician. Like her Son she lived entirely for God. Not only was Mary more richly endowed with grace and the virtues than any other creature; she corresponded most perfectly with every grace received and so grew more pleasing to God at every instant.

MARY’S BEAUTY

The beauty of her soul irradiated her body. She was specially chosen by God to be the only earthly parent of the most beauteous of the sons of men. The likeness between the mother and Child must have been very striking, and so Mary was in body the most comely of women. Hence she is at once the inspiration and the despair of every great artist. He conceives an ideal of lovely womanhood and tries to express it on canvas, in stone or in bronze, but he fails. No human artist could perfectly imitate the masterpiece of the divine Artist. What painter or sculptor could limn the beauty of her features, express the loveliness of those eyes, the windows of a soul where all is purity and grace? Surely the divine Artist must have contemplated with complacency this masterpiece of His creation.

ASSUMED INTO HEAVEN

Because Mary was His Mother, because God had dwelt in her body, and because too she was immaculate, her Son anticipated in her regard the general resurrection of bodies at the end of the world. Her comely body was not permitted to suffer the corruption of the tomb; her heart of flesh, the symbol of her interior life of love for God and man, was not destined to crumble into dust. When her earthly pilgrimage was ended she was assumed body and soul into heaven. Such had ever been the belief of the Church, guided by the Holy Spirit, and this belief was solemnly defined by Pope Pius XII on the feast of All Saints 1950. Later the same Pope proclaimed her universal Queenship. She reigns in heaven on the right hand of her divine Son, Queen of heaven and of earth, Queen of angels and of men. There her lovely hands and eyes are ever raised to the face of Jesus in supplication for her earthly children. She has been well styled Omnipotentia supplex almighty in her prayer.

EVER VIRGIN

Mary is a mother, but could God’s Mother lack the special splendour which virginity confers on body and soul? No, in this respect too God wrought a miracle for His Mother, conferring on her together the two naturally incompatible perfections of motherhood and virginity. ‘Unheard of privilege,’ writes St. Augustine, ‘but a fitting one. A virgin could have no child but God, God could have only a virgin for His Mother.’ Mary was a virgin before giving birth to Jesus; she remained a virgin in His actual birth and ever after. This is one of the most treasured doctrines of the Church regarding Our Lady. It was prophesised in the Old Testament by Isaias to whose prophecy the archangel obviously referred when he brought the good tidings to the humble virgin of Nazareth. The vindications of this privilege of Mary written by the Fathers of the Church against its deniers still vibrate with holy indignation.

II

OUR MOTHER

There is another truth about Mary which appeals more to our hearts even than her divine motherhood. She is our Mother too. In saying this we are not indulging in wishful thinking or in emotion. We are stating a dogmatic truth believed from the beginnings of Christianity which implies that she really co-operates with God in begetting us to the spiritual life. She is in principle the Mother of all the living; she becomes the Mother of each one of us from the moment of our incorporation in Christ by baptism. Her motherhood of men is bound up with her motherhood of Christ. It is a favourite saying of the Fathers of the Church that he that has not Mary for his mother cannot have God for his father. Christ, the Son of Man, is the first-born of many brethren. At the Incarnation Mary became the Mother of the whole Christ, Head and members. Her motherhood of men is not an afterthought of her motherhood of God. In God’s mind the two are inseparable. As St. Paul puts it: ‘When the fulness of time was come God sent His Son, made of a woman, made under the law. . . . that we might receive the adoption of sons.’ Our Lord Himself bore witness to this truth as He hung upon the Cross and at its foot stood Mary, His Mother and the disciple whom he loved. To His Mother He said with His dying breath ‘Woman, behold thy son.’ Woman, an obvious allusion to the first promise of the redemption in the garden of Eden, woman, among the Jews a title of honour and veneration. To the disciple He said ‘Behold thy mother.’ John’s own natural mother was present at this scene. That John there stood for the whole of humanity seems to be implied in words written by Pope Leo XIII in his Bull Gloriosae Dominae. Tradition is clear on the spiritual motherhood of Mary. Let us quote the eloquent Pope St. Leo the Great: ‘Christ’s generation is also the origin of the Christian people, and the birth of the Head is the birth also of the body.’ In his Marian encyclical to commemorate the golden jubilee of the definition of the Immaculate Conception another great Pope saint, Pius X wrote: ‘Is not Mary the Mother of Christ? She is for that reason our mother too. . . . In the chaste womb of the Blessed Virgin Jesus took mortal flesh, but He also took to Himself a mystical Body, and we can say that when Mary had Jesus in her womb she bore there also all those who live the Christ-life.’ To Mary therefore we owe all our supernatural life under God. When God chose her to be the spiritual mother of all the living He gave her a great wide heart capable of embracing us all in its virginal love. What a note of tenderness the spiritual motherhood of Mary introduces into our religion! It is the counterpart of the fatherhood of God. All motherhood in heaven and on earth is named from Mary. Only the Creator Himself could have so plumbed the deeps of the human heart as He did when He gave an earthly Mother to his heavenly Son and a heavenly Mother to us His earthly children. Pope Pius XII concludes his magnificent encyclical on the Mystical Body of Christ with a touching invocation of the Virgin Mother. In it he writes: ‘It was she who gave miraculous birth to Christ our Lord, adorned already in her virginal womb with the dignity of Head of the Church, and so brought forth the source of all heavenly life She it was who offered Him on Golgotha to the Eternal Father together with the holocaust of her maternal rights and motherly love, like a new Eve, for all the children of Adam and thus she who was the mother of our Head according to the flesh, became by a new title of sorrow and glory the spiritual mother of all His members.’

MOTHER OF LOVE

We have all experienced the love of an earthly mother and we know that in all the world there is no love like it, none so tender, none so selfless. Round that tender name of mother what a wealth of wistful memories clings for each of us, memories of the innocent joys of childhood passed in the sunshine of a mother’s smile, of our first lessons in the love of God, our first prayers lisped at a mother’s knee. But all the love of a natural mother is but a pale reflection of Mary’s love, poured into her heart by the Spirit who is love subsistent. A mother’s love is not divided by the number of her children; be they few or many she loves each with her full heart. Though Mary’s children are numberless she knows and loves each one with a personal and unspeakable love. In her eyes each of us is another Jesus for whose sake she was created and predestined.

Our Blessed Lord admonished us that unless we become as little children we cannot enter into the kingdom of God. Children indeed we are spiritually; as long as this life lasts we are not fully grown. Often we prove ourselves very foolish children and we have great need of mothering by Mary who watches over us at every moment. Sorry the plight of the child who has no mother, and sorry indeed would be our plight if we had not Mary for our nursing-mother. One of our Irish poets, Piaras MacGearailt, who for a time became a Protestant, wrote a poignant poem bewailing the want of Mary’s love in his new found religion.

May we not say that a mother always has a special love for the wayward son? And so our heavenly Mother has a particular love for the sinner, whence her consoling title ‘Refuge of sinners.’ How often even in our own experience has she shown how well she merits that appellation. Confidently the Church prays: ‘Remember, O Virgin Mother, when thou standest in the presence of the Lord, that thou plead for us and avert His anger from us.”

III

OUR DEVOTION TO MARY

We have briefly considered Mary’s all but divine dignity as Mother of God and our Mother and her unique part in the scheme of the redemption. Now we must consider our duties towards her, duties of veneration, of filial devotion and trustful prayer to her who has been saluted as the Mediatrix of all graces. Sometimes we Catholics are accused of Mariolatry as if we paid to the Blessed Virgin the worship due to God alone. This hoary calumny is due to ignorance or prejudice or to both. No Catholic would ever dream of adoring Our Blessed Lady as if she were a divine person. We acknowledge that she is a creature, that all she is and has is the gift of God bestowed upon her in view of her unique relation to the three Persons of the Blessed Trinity. But short of latria or adoration there is no cultus which we can pay to Mary which is worthy of her surpassing dignity. It is clear that Mary is worthy of a veneration immeasurably passing that which we pay to the saints. Theologians distinguish three kinds of cultus, latria which is due to God alone, hyperdulia which is proper to our Lady and dulia which we offer to the saints. Hyperdulia is the just recognition of Mary’s divine motherhood, of the undeniable fact that she is God’s most noble creature. It is not just a higher degree of dulia; it is specificially distinct from the cultus of the saints because Mary belongs to the hypostatic order. The saints are venerated only because of their eminent holiness, a sharing in the holiness of Christ of whose mystical Body they are members. Mary is venerated in a special way not only because of her supreme holiness but because of her unique relation to God.

This veneration of Our Blessed Lady goes back to the very beginnings of Christianity. One wonders if our Protestant brethren have ever read the glowing tributes of praise poured out by the early Fathers, for example the lyric compositions of a St. Ephrem, the Deacon of Syria. Protestants fear that our devotion to Mary detracts in some way from our worship of Jesus Christ. Rather does it enhance it since all the veneration we pay to Mary is in view of her unique relation to her Son, her role as the second Eve, her co-operation in the work of the redemption. Our devotion to God’s Mother she passes on to Him, embellished with her own sublime merits. Let us repeat that if this role of Mary is overlooked or minimized, faith in the Incarnation and in the divinity of Christ soon weakens and fades away. Mary’s motherhood is the touchstone of orthodoxy in Christology.

HOW GOD HONOURED HIS MOTHER

Do what we will we can never pay her as much honour as God Himself showed to her. He chose her as His Mother and prepared her for that sublime office, made her a fitting dwelling-place for His Son. He filled her with grace from the first instant of her conception, derogating in her case from the universal law of original sin. With her fulness of grace went the plenitude of the infused virtues and the gifts of the Holy Ghost. He made His merciful plan of redemption to depend on her free consent and sent the archangel Gabriel to address her in words of unique greeting. For nine months divine Wisdom subsistent dwelt in her womb and virginally she gave Him birth. For long years the Son of God lived with her and was subject to her; at her knee He deigned to learn the lessons of human wisdom. At Cana of Galilee He forestalled ‘His time’ to work His first miracle at her delicate suggestion. As we find her thus at the beginning of the public ministry so too we see her at the end of it, standing at the Cross and hearing her spiritual motherhood confirmed by the dying voice of her Son. She is the comfort of the infant Church in the days between the resurrection and the coming of the Holy Ghost and is with the disciples when the Spirit is poured out upon them in the profusion of Pentecost. The Holy Ghost had once inspired her to sing her Magnificat, the canticle of her lowliness and of her exaltation and in it to foretell that all nations should call her blessed because He that is mighty had done great things in her. She was proclaimed blessed among women by her cousin St. Elizabeth, likewise filled with the Holy Spirit. A woman in the crowd hails her as blessed for bearing such a Son, and the Son Him-self proclaims her blessed because of her entire submission to the will of God. Yet there are those who call themselves Christians and who profess to venerate the sacred Scriptures and yet will not give her her title of Blessed but speak coldly of her as ‘the Virgin,’ nor will they accord her her place in the designs of God.

CO-REDEMPTRIX

Several of the Popes have spoken of Mary as Co-Redemptrix of the human race, meaning that she cooperated with the Redeemer in His mission of salvation. Her co-operation was, of course, secondary to that of her Son. At the close of the extraordinary Holy Year of 1933 Pope Pius XI invoked her as Co-Redemptrix and said that God willed to associate His Mother with Jesus as the dispenser and mediatrix of all graces. The many miracles wrought at her shrines in every age, not least in our own, testify to God’s approval of the veneration of His Mother and of her children’s trust in her powerful intercession.

AFFECTION

Since Mary is our own mother we must honour her with a child-like affection and gratitude. Nothing serves to keep in us the heart of a child- like affection for our Blessed Lady. Indeed it would be monstrous on our part to be cold and wanting in affection to so good a mother. Child-like love of Mary is the true hallmark of holiness and a characteristic of all the saints. The holier they were the greater was their affection for Mary. The saints assure us too that devotion to the Mother of God is a mark of predestination. We must love her too because she has first loved us. Her heart was specially formed by the Holy Trinity to love Jesus and His members. In thankfulness also we are bound to love Mary. To what pain did she not expose herself in her motherly love of men, especially sinners. She brought forth her firstborn painlessly, but how great was her suffering when the mystical Body of Christ was formed from the wounded side of the Saviour. Surely we her children should not forget the groanings of our mother. In the words of Pope Pius XII on the mystical Body of Christ she bestowed that same motherly care with which she fostered and nurtured the suckling infant Jesus in the cradle.’

Reigning in heaven our mother knows our needs and she loves us even more than we love ourselves, hence our prayer to her must be full of trust. Under her mothering care we shall grow in wisdom and age and grace before God and men as Jesus did.

IMITATION OF MARY

Our devotion should be one of imitation. We are bound to imitate Christ if we would be saved and Mary is a spotless mirror of all His perfections. Her whole life was a living out of her words at the Annunciation: ‘Behold the handmaid of the Lord, be it done unto me according to thy word.’ If we like her hand ourselves over to the divine will completely we shall make rapid strides in holiness. To her the Church in her liturgy applies the words of the Holy Ghost: ‘Now, ye children, hear me. Blessed are they that keep my ways . . . He that shall find me shall find life, and shall have salvation from the Lord.’ Our love for her should be as like as possible to that which Jesus gave her.

QUEEN

Mary is our Queen as well as our mother. As such she has a right to our loyalty and fidelity. That will be an efficacious means of ensuring our loyalty to Christ Our King which is so tested in these days of ours. ‘Let all pay unswerving homage, mingled with the beauteous veneration of her children to the royal sceptre of that great Mother.’ So wrote Pope Pius XII in his encyclical on the Queenship of Mary. He hopes that the celebration of the feast of her Queenship will contribute towards keeping, strengthening and continuing peace among the nations. In the dark days of war our Holy Father consecrated the whole world to the Immaculate Heart of Mary. It is for each one of us to see that that consecration be effective by our obedience to the behest of our Queen: ‘Whatsoever He shall say to you do ye.’ In doing this lies the only salvation of the world.

Many times a day we address to our Queen and Mother the Hail Mary, the prayer of the Incarnation, saluting her with the words of the archangel and St. Elizabeth, or rather with the words of God Himself. Each time it should be with a greater faith in and realization of the mystery, hidden from the ages in God. If we had nothing else in sacred Scripture but this it would be more than ample to justify all our Catholic devotion and veneration for Mary. God Himself declares her full of grace and blessed among all women. The Church, the bride of the Word, the pillar and ground of truth, guided by the Holy Spirit, adds her own petition, surely a worthy companion to the Lord’s own prayer: ‘Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death.’ A simple but profound prayer that greatly increases our trust. ‘Holy’ we style her because she more than any saint shares in the sanctity of Him who alone is essential holiness. God alone can know what are the depths of holiness of Mary’s soul, hallowed in its conception and growing in grace at every moment of earthly life. ‘Mary,’ ‘a name that is kin to prophecy, salutary to the regenerate, the hall-mark of virginity . . . fellowship in holiness.’ (Vincent of Lerins). St. Germanus of Constantinople writes that the very invocation of the name of Mary turns aside from her servants the attacks of the enemy, and keeps them safe and unharmed. ‘Mother of God,’ we invoke her knowing that God can refuse nothing to His only earthly parent, that where saints beg she commands. We beseech her help now in our present need, and above all at the hour of our death. ‘If,’ writes St. Alphonsus Liguori in his ‘Glories of Mary,’ ‘at the hour of death we have the protection of Mary, what need we fear from all our infernal enemies?’ Pastoral experience confirms what we should in any case expect, that Mary’s clients die in happiness and hope. If often during life we have so prayed we may rest assured that when now is the hour of our death the glorious Queen of heaven will be near us to lead our souls to heaven and after this our exile to show unto us the blessed fruit of her womb, JESUS.

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Mothers of History

BY J. T. MORAN, C.SS.R

INDEX

ST. ANNE, THE MOTHER OF OUR LADY

A proverb, we are told, is the crystallisation of the experience and consent of ages. It is from a proverb that we could, perhaps, best derive the greatness of St. Anne, the mother of Our Lady.

One proverb has it that the greatness of a mother is her children. Our Lady is the greatest Mother of history, but She is also the daughter of St. Anne, the only daughter, in fact the only child.

St. Anne’s claim to greatness is not a multiple claim; She has only one claim; but that one is all sufficient, all explanatory. She is the mother of Mary, who is the Mother of Our Lord and Saviour, Jesus Christ.

Singularly blessed by God was she who is the Mother of “Our tainted natures solitary boast.” Expression of the place St. Anne holds in the affection of her devout clients is nowhere better illustrated than by the fact that she is called “Good St. Anne.” What a wealth of meaning is implied in that simple little adjective “good.” It expresses in a word all we would like to say in praise of Mary’s mother.

It must surprise us somewhat that Holy Scripture, while it speaks much of other great women, as Judith or Esther, makes no mention of St. Anne, who was mother of the Blessed Virgin, and of whom these other women were only types. We cannot penetrate the hidden designs of God, but from this silence of Sacred Scripture we dare infer that St. Anne led a retired life.

We depend upon what has been handed down to us by tradition for our knowledge of St. Anne.

St. Anne’s husband was St. Joachim. An ancient tradition tells us that Joachim and Anne had long been childless. To be childless was considered a wife’s greatest disgrace among the Israelites. For many years the hand of the Lord weighed heavily upon St. Anne. She was tried in the furnace of humiliation before her race.

When God intends to elevate a person to great dignity and sanctity, He invariably humbles that person in various ways. Anne, the wife, was humbled for years, nor was the reproach removed until, inGod’s good time, she became Anne, the mother of Mary. In patience and resignation St. Anne, the childless wife, endured all the contempt heaped upon her and ceased not, in humble unshaken confidence, to pray to Almighty God, for St. Anne well knew that “no word shall be impossible with God.”

Such virtue must needs call down the favour of the Almighty. Purified in adversity, found worthy in humiliations, and confirmed in sanctity, as she was, the Lord could now give to her the child of grace, that should tend to bring joy to the whole world.

St. Anne was great before God, not only on account of her humility, but also on account of her magnanimity- her greatness of soul; her big generous desires to please God; for she had vowed to offer her holy child, the blessed fruit of her fervent prayers, to the Lord. What renunciation! What a sacrifice! But St. Anne knew that a mother’s love is not a rival of Divine Love; only the foolish make it so, and begrudge their son or daughter to the service of God.

Far frombeing a rival of Divine Love, a mother’s love is a reflection of it. God is Love, and to give us some idea of Divine Love, God gives us mothers. A mother’s love is a tiny spark in the heart of a woman from the mighty furnace which is Divine Love. St. Anne loved her daughter dearly; but she remembered with gratitude that a child is God’s gift, and so love of God triumphed over mother love.

Just where St. Anne lived when Our Lady was born is uncertain. The strongest opinion seems to be that of St. John Damascene, who spent a great deal of his life quite close to the Holy City, and is thus an excellent witness to the Christian traditions of Jerusalem. He tells us that the Holy Virgin first saw the light of day in her father’s house of which we read in the Gospel, where Our Lord cured the paralytic.

It was the custom among the Jews to name their children, in the midst of the assembled family, the ninth day after birth. St. Joachim’s own name means Expectation; Anne signifies Grace. Gracious assuredly in the eyes of God was she who now named her child Miriam, a name of Egyptian origin; in Greek or Latin, Maria, which signifies both Sovereign Lady, or Princess, and Sea of Sorrow.

But we who wish to show St. Anne’s greatness always remember that her child was saluted by the Angel: “Hail, full of Grace”-the destined Mother of God.

St. Anne’s feast is kept on July 26th. The Church has chosen a passage from St. John Damascene’s writings to be read at Matins on the feast. It sums up for us the greatness of St. Anne. “Now even as Anna of the Old Testament, when she was stricken with barrenness, gave birth to Samuel as the fruit of prayer and promise; in like manner the second Anna received from God the Mother of God promised to her entreaties so that in fruitfulness she had not to yield to any of the illustrious matrons who had gone before her. Thus Grace (for this is the meaning of the word Anna) is mother of the Lady (the signification of the name of Mary), who in truth was made the Lady over all created things when she became the Mother of the Creator.”

÷

ST. MONICA

Most of us think of St. Monica in association with her son, the great St. Augustine.

This is understandable for two reasons. We are familiar with the famous painting of the parting of Monica and Augustine at Ostia. Familiar, too, are the now famous words of an unknown bishop to St. Monica: “The child of such tears will never perish.” We are introduced, as it were, to St. Monica sorrowing.

Sorrow played a big part in the life of St. Monica; the sorrow of a loving wife for a harsh spouse and a devoted mother to a wayward son. Life was not kind to St. Monica. Her husband, Patritius, was a pagan. Though naturally generous and kind hearted, Patritius was a harsh and unfaithful husband. His mother and servants took their cue from him in their treatment of his young wife. Monica bore her difficulties with patient cheerfulness and” her conduct profoundly influenced Patritius, finally bringing him to the gift of faith after twenty years of married life.

Wife beatingwas common among the pagans and Monica’s neighbours marvelled that not once did Patritius strike his wife.

St. Augustine himself tells us of his mother in his writings: “She served her husband as her Lord and strove to gain him to Thee, 0 God, by speaking of Thee to him by her virtues, by which Thou didst render her beautiful and reverently lovely and admirable to her husband . . . She never resisted him by word or deed in his fits of anger, waiting till the storm was over for a proper occasion. And when many wives came to her all disfigured to complain of their husbands” conduct, she jocosely told them to blame their own tongues.”

St. Monica had three children, two boys and a girl-Augustine, Navigius and Perpetua. Augustine, the eldest, was born at Tagaste on November 13th, 354.

In spite of every difficulty, Monica brought up her children in faith and piety. We are indebted to St. Augustine’s own writings for the information: “While yet a child I had heard from her of the eternal life promised to us through the humiliations of the Lord, our God, Who came down to cure our pride. My father could never so far overcome in me the influence of my mother as to prevent me from believing in Christ for she laboured that Thou, my God, shouldst be my Father rather than he, and in this Thou didst assist her.”

In another place St. Augustine tells us: “By Thy great mercy, 0 Lord, my tender heart imbibed with my mother’s milk, the sweet name of Christ, Thy Son, my Saviour; and ever after nothing, be it ever so learned, ever so polished, ever so true, could, if devoid of this name entirely carry me away.” ENTIRELY carry me away! But partly, almost completely, carried away Augustine was. The explanation lies in Monica’s one fault-she deferred her child’s baptism and paid the price of thirty-threeyears” anguish.

Brilliant, proud, high-spirited, Augustine passed from hero to zero. Influenced by bad company he became ashamed to be less wicked than others. “I became ashamed of not having done shameful things.” Monica’s cup of bitterness seemed to be overflowing. Her brilliant son grown to man’s estate, seemed to have carefully rejected all her early teaching. In the midst of it all came a ray of hope, the famous assurance: “The child of such tears will never perish.”

Alone with her grief, but incessant in prayer, Monica witnessed, through many years, the acute mental and moral struggles of Augustine. His great intellect had to be convinced of the truth of the Catholic Church. He was left to struggle alone.

St. Ambrose, Bishop of Milan, the only man who could have assisted him left him entirely to himself in this matter, relying on the prayers of St. Monica. “Often when we met,” writes St. Augustine, “he used to break forth in praise of my holy mother, congratulating me on having such a mother, not knowing what a son she had in me who doubted all things.” St. Ambrose knew, in spite of Augustine’s conviction to the contrary. But Ambrose was wise in the way of souls and his wisdom counselled silence.

Step by step Augustine fought his way to the final conclusion that the Holy Scriptures and the Catholic Church had an undoubted claim on his assent and obedience.

Came the famous “take up and read” incident and the conversion of Augustine was complete. Having sought the well of happiness and found only the puddle holes of sinful pleasure, Augustine finally succumbed to the influence of his holy mother and turned to God. “Our hearts were made for Thee, 0 Lord, and cannot rest until they rest in Thee.”

The loving son of thirty-three brings the good news to the prematurely aged mother. He desires Baptism. With his scholarly friend, Alipius, he goes to Monica. In his own words: “Thence we go in to my mother; we tell her all. She leaps for joy and blesses Thee who art able to grant more than we can ask or imagine. For we saw that Thou hadst granted her for me, far more than she had ever dared to ask for in all her prayers and tears. Thou hadst turned her mourning into joy much more perfectly than she had ever hoped.”

÷

ST. MARGARET OF SCOTLAND

St. Margaret was born in Hungary in the year 1048. She was of royal stock, whose history is intimately bound up with the history of England.

On the death of King Edmund Ironsides, Canute of Denmark usurped the English throne and exiled Edmund’s two young sons, Edmund and Edward, to Sweden. Canute asked the Swedish King to put them to death. He, however, secretly sent them to St. Stephen, King of Hungary, who treated them as his own children.

Prince Edmund, on reaching maturity, married St. Stephen’s only daughter. Of this union were born a son and two daughters, of whom Margaret was the elder.

An ancient biographer records of the child Margaret that “she was more beautiful than any other girl of her time.” Margaret was endowed with great intelligence. St. Stephen’s court was a model one, and from the saintly king, Margaret learned the lessons of holiness which rendered her so illustrious as Queen of Scotland. Renowned for her beauty, she was deeply admired for the modesty of her demeanour and gentle disposition. At an early age she showed a great love of prayer and liked to spend time before the Blessed Sacrament and at shrines of Our Lady.

Taught by St. Stephen, she was prodigal in her generosity to the poor. So much so that she earned the beautiful title of “Mother of the Motherless and Treasurer of God’s poor.” At the death of her father, Prince Edmund, Margaret resolved to leave the Court and enter the convent. Such, however, was not the Will of God. It was left for her younger sister, Christina, to become the nun.

History was being made in England all this while. Canute, the usurper, died and St. Edward the Confessor became King of England. He immediately sent for the exiles. Margaret and her brother, Edgar, thus came to the English court. Great joy attended their return. But Edward the Confessor died soon after their arrival. Prince Edgar, Margaret’s brother, was now heir to the throne. Edgar was young and Harold, who was afterwards defeated by William the Conqueror, seized the throne. Edgar was forced to flee for his life. Margaret accompanied him. They were shipwrecked off the coast of Scotland. Malcolm III of Scotland received them royally and gave them a permanent home at his court.

The characteristics that distinguished Margaret in Hungary were to the fore in Scotland. All admired beauty, fortitude under trials, evenness of temper, and unbounded sympathy for the sick and the poor. King Malcolm requested Margaret’s hand in marriage. Margaret still longed for the religious life, but, persuaded she was fulfilling the Divine Will, gave her consent. In 1070, at Dunfermline, she became Queen of Scotland. She was then twenty-four years of age.

As a thanksgiving to God she endowed Dunfermline with a magnificent church, dedicated to the Most Holy Trinity. “Whilst honouring the Three Divine Persons,” she said, “I wish to ensure, as far as I can, the salvation of my beloved husband and of any children God may give me, as also my own.”

God blessed her with children. Six sons and two daughters were born to the royal couple. The children were early trained to virtue by their saintly mother. She personally superintended their education. She chose their instructors herself so that none but virtuous tutors should influence them. She even administered corporal punishment, if she deemed it necessary.

Her love for the poor increased, if anything, with her years. Malcolm gave her free access to the royal coffers. She dotted the country with abbeys, schools, monasteries and hospices for travellers and the sick.

Margaret had her slanderers, but her virtue was proof against all evil tongues. There were those who would play Iago to Malcolm’s Othello. Their filthy suggestions were refuted by Malcolm’s own investigations.

Following her to a supposed assignation in the forest, the mentally tortured King found her in a cave she had transformed into a chapel. Burning with shame and self-reproach, the royal eavesdropper heard her praying aloud, beseeching God to “fill the mind of my dear spouse with Thy Divine light. Incline his heart to all that is highest and best. May he love Thee more dearly, follow Thee more nearly and realize the truth of Thy Divine words: “What doth it profit a man if he gain the whole world and suffer the loss of his own soul?”

Malcolm burst in with the heartfelt prayer, “My God, forgive me. All unworthy that I am, I render Thee thanks for the woman Thou hast given me, my holy queen.” Falling on his knees, he humbly confessed his unworthy thoughts and begged Margaret’s pardon, which she lovingly granted.

From then on, the chronicler of the times tells us, Malcolm would often “watch the night in prayer by her side.”

Margaret passed to her eternal reward on the day the now pious Malcolm fell in battle at Alnwick. On November 16, 1093, she heard fromOur Divine Lord the “Well done” of the good and faithful servant.

St. Margaret of Scotland, wife, mother, queen, pray for us.

ISABELLA OF SPAIN

A great ruler was Isabella, as history admits, but also a great woman, a great wife and mother. Hers was not a long life-I451 to 1504 spans a mere 53 years.

The daughter of Isabella of Portugal and John II of Castille, Isabella absorbed the chivalry, the patriotism, religion and proud sense of independence of the Castilians.

Her pious mother’s first care was to train her daughter in practical piety, to fill her with that spirit of religion which was the most evident characteristic of her later reign as queen. Uninfluenced by the licentious and frivolous court, the maturity and balance the growing girl displayed was remarkable in one so young-the direct result of her early training.

Described by one of her household as “the handsomest lady whom I. ever beheld and the most gracious in her manners,” it was little wonder Isabella had many suitors. Factions sought to use her in the political game, but Isabella knew her own mind. Marriages were arranged for her for reasons of State. She rejected them. Confederates sought to proclaim her queen of Castille. She refused. The crown belonged to her brother.

She was proclaimed queen against her wish. Surely now a young girl would acquiesce- fancy refusing a kingdom! Refuse she did, but agreed, as was her right, to be recognized as heiress to the crown, only on condition that she would not be forced to marry against her wish.

At 19 she married Prince Ferdinand of Aragon, eloping to him at Valladolid. At the time of marriage the couple were so poor that they had to borrow money to defray the expenses of the ceremony. When Isabella was 23, her brother Henry died, and she succeeded to the throne. Castille was dismembered by factions, the treasury bankrupt, and public and private morals were a byword.

This Augean stable, Isabella set herself to clean. Crowned, her first act was to go with a great procession to the Cathedral to sing the solemn Te Deum. She then prostrated before the High Altar to invoke God’s blessing for the future. And blessed she was, for in her rule one has little difficulty in discovering the Providence of God.

Trouble came quickly. Portugal declared war on the weakened Castille. Isabella met this first great care of State with the decision that characterized her. Long and tedious journeys on horseback were her daily lot. She saw to everything. Spanish chivalry warmed to this valiant woman, and in six months the whole kingdom acknowledged the supremacy of Isabella and Ferdinand. Castille and Aragon, separated for more than four centuries, were united.

Justice characterized Isabella’s reign, abuses were reformed. She herself sat in judgment. Robbers and bandits who had been terrorizing the country were quickly suppressed.

In a few years the country was transformed. The Moslem power in Granada was destroyed forever. It had lasted over seven centuries. In the wars, Isabella pioneered military hospitals and supported them from her own purse. The Moslem wars were a veritable crusade; and the inspiration was Isabella, who was determined to replace the Crescent with the Cross.

Isabella had one son and four daughters. She, personally, saw to their education and they all inherited her own virtues.

One daughter was that Catherine of Aragon, shamefully repudiated by Henry VIII of England in favour of Anne Boleyn. Sorrow marked Isabella’s reign. Prince John, her only son, died at the age of twenty; the eldest daughter, Isabella, Queen of Portugal, soon afterwards. Joanna, wife of Emperor Maximilian’s son, Philip, became mentally deranged.

If John’s death was a mighty blow, Isabella’s crushed her heart. But her truly religious spirit, resigned to God’s Will, made her realize that the sorrows of this life, like its joys, are but passing. Nevertheless, the combined sorrows must have contributed to her early death in 1504.

Isabella’s last will has been called a famous will. Her funeral was to be as simple as possible (the money saved to be used for the poor). She gave money to charities; marriage portions for the daughters of poor parents; money for the redemption of Christian captives in Barbary; and for the conversion of the Indians; her jewels to Ferdinand, that seeing them, he may be reminded of “the singular love I always bore him.”

Her last words were typical of Isabella, the Catholic. “Do not weep for me, but pray rather for the salvation of my immortal soul.”

Even hostile critics regard Isabella, the Catholic, as one of the greatest rulers of all time. An historian, Irving, has summed it up: “Contemporary writers have been enthusiastic in their descriptions of Isabella, but time has sanctioned their eulogies. She is one of the purest and most beautiful characters in the pages of history.”

DONNA ANNA CAVALIERI

At least five biographers have written of St. Alphonsus Liguori. The first of these, and the most competent to speak, was Father Tannoia, a contemporary of the Saint.

It is from Father Tannoia that we learn some intimate details of Donna Anna, the Saint’s mother. In his biography, Father Tannoia introduces Donna Anna by saying that she was venerated by all who knew her in Naples, for her spirit of prayer, her many penances, her detachment from worldly amusements, and, above all, her love for the poor.

He gives us, too, a perfect picture of Donna Anna, themother, by recording her relation to her children. “I was privileged to know this noble lady and to speak with her. Her memory, as I look back now, calls up before me the image of the great Queen Blanche of Castille. I learned from Don Cajetan, the brother of Alphonsus, that every morning the good mother, after blessing her children, had them kneel down and say their prayers. Every evening she would gather them around her and teach them the truths of Faith with her own lips. She would always say the Rosary with them and taught them exercises of devotion to many saints. She was watchful of their companionships and would not let them mix freely with children of their own age, preferring to forestall sin by sanctifying grace rather than run any risk of their falling. She taught them to hate sin by every means in her power. For this reason, she took them to confession each week to her own spiritual director and kinsman, Father Pagano.”

Alphonsus himself, in later life, gave ample testimony to the goodness ofhis mother. “I must confess,” he said, “that if I was good at all during my childhood, if I was preserved from evil, I owe it entirely to my mother’s care. Most of the time my father was away at sea and could not devote himself as he might wish to the education and training of his children. Thus the whole burden fell on my mother.”

Donna Anna Cavalieri was the wife of Don Joseph Liguori, a distinguished nobleman and captain of one of the royal galleys. She was the mother of eight children, of whom Alphonsus, the eldest, was to become priest, bishop, founder of the Redemptorist Congregation and Doctor of the Church.

If it is true that opposites attract opposites, we have an illustration in the characters of Don Joseph and Donna Anna. Their temperaments were diametrically opposed. Don Joseph was choleric and severe, and, by his naval training, a strict disciplinarian. A product of his age, he saw nothing contrary to religious principles in fostering great worldly ambitions for his first-born son. In contrast to Don Joseph, Anna’s one ambition was that the children should all do the Holy Will of God. The effect of her influence and early training on the children is seen from the subsequent history of the members of the family.

Of her eight children, Magdalene died in infancy; Antonio became a Benedictine monk at Monte Casino; Cajetan was a diocesan priest, known for his holiness; Hercules married, and the affection of Alphonsus for his brother and his children shows the strength of the family ties. Of the girls, Mary Louise and Mary Anna entered the Convent. Teresa married the Duke of Presengano. The life of each one of them paid some tribute to the sterling character and qualities of their mother.

Donna Anna cherished the hope that her first-born might one day be a priest.

But when Alphonsus became the brilliant lawyer, her dream seemed to fade. When God did call Alphonsus to the priesthood, Don Joseph strenuously resisted his son’s vocation. Anna sought the advice of her kinsman, Bishop Cavalieri. He counselled a continuance of her wise silence. Finally, Don Joseph requested the bishop to dissuade Alphonsus from giving up his brilliant legal career. The bishop’s answer sounded the death knell to Don Joseph’s ambition. “I myself renounced my rights as eldest son in order to save my soul. Would you have me advise your son to do the opposite at the risk of losing my soul with his?”

Time, God’s great healer, and Donna Anna’s evident joy softened the blow of Don Joseph’s disappointment. In the evening of his life he bitterly regretted his opposition to his son’s vocation.

Anna lived to see her dreams realized. Alphonsus was ordained in 1726. He founded the Redemptorists in 1732. Her long life of 85 years came to a close in 1755, seven years before Alphonsus was consecrated bishop. Alphonsus was at her side to bring her comfort in her last days, but was forced to leave two days before her death. He went on God’s work, as so often before, with Donna Anna’s blessing ringing in his ears.

MARGHERITA SANSON

Antonio,we are told in Shakespeare’s play, “The Merchant of Venice,” commissioned his dearest friend, Bassanio, to write his epitaph. Robert Emmett would have no man write his epitaph, insisting that he and his cause be left to the verdict of history. Both history and the one dearest to her could be said to have written the epitaph of Margherita Sanson, the mother of St. Pius X.

The historian would crystallize her greatness into a brief, impersonal, “She was the mother of a modern Pope who was raised to the honours of the Altar.”

Antecedent to history’s verdict are the words of an unpretentious tombstone over a humble grave in the Italian town of Riese. St. Pius X, or Cardinal Giuseppe Sarto, as he then was, left over her grave this tribute to his mother: “Margherita Sanson: the exemplary wife, the prudent woman, the incomparable mother, who, May 2, 1852, lost her husband, Gianbattista Sarto. In sad and happy days she kept brave-hearted courage and devotion; raised as good Christians her nine children, and crowned a life of toil and sacrifice by her death, February 2. 1894. Cardinal Giuseppe Sarto and his brothers and sisters pray for everlasting peace for their dear parents.”

By these words Cardinal Sarto did more than show his filial affection for the woman whom God gave him for mother. “The exemplary wife, the prudent woman, the incomparable mother,” was the ideal he would keep before all mothers as their true vocation. The epitaph and the subsequent history of her son give us the real picture of Margherita Sanson. The son painted the picture; history has projected it and, in the process, focussed the attention of mothers throughout the Christian world.

Margherita Sanson never occupied an important official or social position. She lived the ordinary life of a simple, hardworking mother of a large family. “In sad and happy days she kept brave-hearted courage and devotion; raised as good Christians her nine children.”

But Margherita was by no means an ordinary person-no mother is. Her influence was as deep and as enduring as it was far reaching; for Margherita influenced, as God would have her influence, those whom He entrusted to her care, and, of these, Giuseppe was to influence the whole world.

For this woman, who never spared herself in her “life of toil and sacrifice,” motherhood was not a burden to be dreaded or a last shift to be endured. It was a vocation from God, and it was part of the mother, Margherita, to fashion under God, a soul to whom God was to give the highest possible honour on earth-the occupancy of the Chair of Peter.

Margherita Sanson was not destined to live to see her son-the parish priest of Tombolo-crowned Pope and become the parish priest of the world; nor were her ears to hear the world’s acclaim, June 3, 1951, when he was raised to the honours of the Altar.

But Margherita had her consolations. She experienced a mother’s pride when her beloved Giuseppe was ordained, became Archbishop, and later, a member of the Sacred College of Cardinals. Observers have recorded her simple utterance when she met her son after his Consecration as Archbishop. Pointing to her wedding ring and to the episcopal ring of the future Pius X, she said: “My son, if I had not had this, you would not have had that.”

Margherita knew that Our Divine Lord instituted Sacraments for two states of life only-the married and the priestly. It was not in spite of marriage, but in and by marriage that she herself was to be sanctified. Such was the calibre of her soul that marriage, mutilated and debased and rendered sterile by selfishness was simply beyond her comprehension. God’s Will alone counted. Does not marriage supply God’s Church with priests and religious? This was Margherita’s truly Christian outlook. How pleasing to the profound, theological mind of her son must have been that simple utterance: “If I had not had this, you would not have had that.”

Margherita was of the people. Her skill later withstood many demands when providing for the needs of her rapidly growing family.

Widowed after nineteen years of marriage, Margherita held the large family together by the sheer force of her maternal love and influence. She provided for Giuseppe’s education to the priesthood and balanced the domestic budget as only the good housewife can.

The years passed and left their mark. Giuseppe was made a Cardinal in 1893. He hastened to the aged and infirm mother at Riese as soon as official ceremonial permitted. Margherita’s cup of happiness was almost overflowing. Almost, but not quite. Real woman that she was, Margherita had one request. Would Giuseppe don his Cardinal’s robes that she might see him in them? He agreed and changed. Margherita could only sit and look at him speechlessly, while the tears of pride and joy and gratitude to God ran down her cheeks.

Then the mother faded into the true daughter of the Church. She tried to kneel for his blessing. His Eminence gently restrained her. Having blessed her, he kissed her affectionately. It was Margherita’s “Nunc dimittis.” After that day she never saw her son again in this life.

Giuseppe Sarto never forgot the influence of Margherita, his mother. He could declare that, through the years, he had always been aware, even when distant from her, of her love reaching out to him; of her strength giving him strength.

Whatever may be added of Margherita, her son’s wording of her epitaph-”the exemplary wife, the prudent woman, the incomparable mother,” remains the highest tribute that could be paid to any mother. ÷

ZELIE GUERIN, MOTHER OF THE LITTLE FLOWER

Zelie Guerin and Louis Martin were united in the Sacrament of Matrimony, July 13, 1858.

Had they but known it then, a saint was to be fashioned in the home circle of the young people. Sixty-nine years later, to the very day, Pope Pius XI extended to the Universal Church the Office and Mass of their daughter-St. Therese of the Child Jesus.

Years later an unknown pilgrim, with more enthusiasm than reverence, scribbled on the tomb of Zelie and Louis thesewords: “Thank you, dear Christian parents, for giving us a saint to look after us.” This sentiment expresses the attitude of the Christian world towards these parents.

It was primarily a family lesson that Cardinal Mercier would have us learn from the history of the Little Flower. “How glad I am,” he exclaimed, “to know that she is the recompense of an exemplary family. We must never weary of repeating that everywhere.”

The home which produced St. Therese enters into her way of glory. So, our emphasis is not so much on the product of the home, as on the home of the product.

Zelie received at birth the heritage of religious tradition and military bravery. Her father, Isidore Guerin, a soldier, witnessed the sacrilegious activities of the French Republican troops. He frequently took his life in his hands to assist the clergy, proscribed by law.

Whilst still in the army, he married, September 5, 1828. Zelie was born in 1831. Zelie’s mother seems to have been very rigorous. “My childhood and youth were shrouded in sadness. Good as she was mother did not know how to treat me, so that I suffered deeply.” Thus wrote Zelie in after life.

A convent school gave Zelie the spirit of faith and the thorough religious instruction she was to use to such effect in presiding over her own home. Although she was attracted to the Religious Life, God guided her to Louis Martin. He, likewise, had aspired after complete detachment from the world. After an engagement of three months, they were married, July 1 3, 1858.

Then was evidenced their somewhat unusual concept of married life. A year of continence followed, dueon Zelie’s part to a modest terror of the things of sense, and on the part of Louis, to the retention of an attraction to the ideal of a dedicated celibacy. However, by further study of the Church’s teaching on marriage and by wise spiritual direction, their concept of marriage widened. Their pious experiment terminated with a longing to give sons and daughters to the Lord.

Two sons were born to them, but died in infancy: Marie Joseph Louis, at five months, and Marie Jean Baptiste, at nine months. Two daughters also died very young. Marie Helene, at four-and-a-half years, and Marie Melanie, at three months. Their five other children, daughters, all entered Religion: the youngest, Marie Therese, becoming the worldfamous saint, known as the Little Flower.

Their source of perfection now clear to them, Zelie and Louis began the ascent of the mountain of married holiness, the more eagerly that they were mutual support to each other in their noble ideal-the conviction that God wills parents to co-operate with Himself in bringing new souls into the world.

They were to experience the joyful stage, marked by four cradles, the sorrowful stage, five more cradles, but four little coffins; the Gethsemane of sacrifice of five children to the service of God; and, as part of their reward in heaven, the glorious stage when Therese would carry their names to the very altars of God’s Church.

Three principles governed Zelie’s home: God’s supreme rights; faith in His Providence; a trustful, happy acquies- cence to His Will. Zelie’s was a life of generosity with God, and God was generous with His Grace at her death, August 28, 1877.

Therese, whose glory was to constitute Zelie’s most authentic title to nobility, left us this little pen picture of her mother:

1 loved my mother “s gentle smile, Her pensive gaze would say the while: Eternity hath drawn me from exile, I go unto the God of Love, above.”

Imprimi Potest:

Reginald O”Connell, C.SS.R. Provincial Superior

Australasian Province.

Nihil obstat:

A. Regan, C.SS.R. Censor Deputetus. lmprimatur:

P. Collender, V.G. Sydney

July 25th, 1954.

********

Mountaineer of Faith

SIR ARNOLD LUNN

BY KARL G. SCHMUDE

INDEX

EARLY DAYS

On his seventieth birthday, Sir Arnold Lunn returned to the great Alps of Switzerland where the memories of his long life had been so often enriched. Landing by plane just below the summit of one of the peaks, he determined to ski to the valley below.

It was a visit charged with reminiscence. From his early youth he had lived at frequent intervals amid the Alps, and little of enduring value in his life had not some kind of link with mountains. He was fond of echoing Ruskin’s dictum that “the mountains of the earth are its natural cathedrals.” Their dignity, their majesty, their imperishable beauty were decisive in awakening him to the existence of the supernatural—of a spiritual world informing and transcending the world of matter.

HIS FATHER

Lunn was introduced to the mountains by his father, a Methodist lay preacher. Sir Henry Lunn was intensely interested in the cause of Christian unity and in 1892 he organized a conference in Switzerland to discuss reunion. This formed the beginnings of the Lunn travel business and created the opportunity for the young Lunn to develop intimate contact with the Alps.

The influence of Sir Henry upon his son’s life and character was profound and permanent. The dominant theme of his life had been his devotion to Christ, and the tenacity of this devotion made a deep impression on Arnold. Sir Henry once described his own father in words which his son later assigned to him: each was “a friend of the poor without patronage and of the rich without subservience.”

Sir Henry was serving as a medical missionary in Madras, India, when his son, the first of four children, was born on 18th April, 1888. He relates in his autobiography how Arnold almost died from fever several months after his birth, and indeed the collapse of Sir Henry’s health some time later forced the early return of the whole family to England.

In 1902 Arnold was enrolled in the prestigious school of Harrow. His first important book, The Harrovians (1913), derived from his experiences there and became the first of a new literary genre—the realistic school story. At that time the public-school system—in the Australian idiom, the private-school system—was accepted as an undeniable part of the English way of life, and there had been no effective criticism of its rules and rituals until Lunn’s novel appeared. The book was a bestseller and did much to establish its author’s literary reputation.

THE AGNOSTIC

It was during his school years that Lunn abandoned Christianity and lapsed into agnosticism. He had been raised as an Anglican, but his faith languished under the severe Puritanism of his mother, the daughter of an Irish Protestant clergyman, and the character of his father’s Christianity, which was, despite its fervour, principally a Christianity of experience and faith unsupported by reason. These influences left Lunn with the impression that religion was essentially irrational, and his experiences at Harrow did nothing to modify this attitude. Not only did he fail to hear a reasoned case for Christianity, but he was not even given to suspect that such a case exists.

His real religion at this time, as he later confessed, was “an idolatry of sorts, mountain worship,” and he was “in reality . . . a quasipagan with a Christian veneer.” He might well have endorsed Pascal’s comment that “there are perfections in Nature which demonstrate that she is the image of God,” without noting the counterbalancing statement that Nature has “imperfections, to assure us that she is no more than His image.”

AT OXFORD

In 1907 Lunn entered Balliol College, Oxford. In his first year he encountered Hilaire Belloc’s classic work, The

Path to Rome (1902). No Catholic writer was to have a greater influence on Lunn’s future conversion to Catholicism than Belloc. For the first time he was struck by the insistence that reason formed the foundation of faith. From being a religion involving blind credulity, Catholicism now appeared as a creed founded on reason. Moreover, he was inspired by Belloc’s vision of the Faith as the vitalizing root of Europe, and he began dimly to see that Catholicism was an integral part of Western culture.

Lunn always cherished the warmest memories of his period at Oxford. He served as Secretary of the Union and editor of Isis, the undergraduates” journal, and the very aspect of the University, “whispering from her towers the last enchantments of the Middle Ages,” never failed to enliven his sense of beauty. Indeed, the view of Oxford’s noble spires held for him an appeal comparable with the distant view of the Swiss Alps.

THE LONG JOURNEY

It was in the Alps that Lunn began his long Journey to the Catholic Church, for it was there that his belief in the supernatural was revived.

“I was 19 at the time,” he recalled. “We were resting on our descent from an interesting climb, on an alpine pass a few thousand feet above the valley, still beautiful in the fading alpine twilight. Sixty miles of peak and glacier saluted the setting sun. Suddenly I found myself asking whether matter alone, matter in the form of rock, ice and snow, could evoke the adoration which these mountains evoked in me.”

To a mind pervaded by materialism, this experience was distinctly unsettling. Could science, he began to wonder, for all its power of interpretation, offer any rational explanation of the awe which now seized him? Could a physical explanation account for what seemed to be a spiritual experience? He grew increasingly dubious.

Lunn’s first books drew upon his early acquaintance with the mountains. In 1912 he edited a volume of Oxford Mountaineering Essays as well as producing a portrait of The Englishman in the Alps. The town of Murren, where he lived when in Switzerland, became under his stimulus a popular centre for winter sports, in particular the new sport of ski racing in which his influence was of decisive effect.

A SKI PIONEER

Lunn was, in fact, a ski pioneer, for he invented the modern downhill slalom race and obtained Olympic recognition for it in the 1936 Games. At the age of 10 he was already ski-ing and, before long, touring the mountain ranges on skis. In January 1909 he traversed the Bernese Alps from end to end, recording thereby the first large-scale ski mountaineering expedition by an Englishman. He climbed the Monch (13,468 ft.), the Monte Rosa (15,203 ft.), and the great Matterhorn (14,678 ft.), and made the first ski ascent of many peaks, among them the Eiger (13,042 ft.) in 1924. More than twenty books on ski-ing and mountaineering flowed from his lively pen; his volume, Alpine Skiing (1921), laid the foundation of modern snow and avalanche craft, and demonstrated that he was a leading authority on mountains. His fame was once amusingly reflected in a Swiss paper’s designation of him as “the Ski Pope”!

Yet it is a proof of his invincible courage that the mountaineering and ski-ing triumphs which he recorded throughout his life should have occurred despite a severe physical handicap. In August 1909 he fell whilst mountainclimbing in North Wales, as a result of which he developed one game leg two inches shorter than the other, and an open wound which took eleven years to heal. The energy and tenacity of will which he exhibited in these circumstances were soon to show themselves in his pursuit and profession of religious truth.

THE PATH TO ROME

Although the promptings of emotion had disposed Lunn to belief in God, it was the findings of reason that set him upon the path to Rome. His response to an Alpine sunset was not, he thought, evidence of truth but it did serve as a signpost pointing to truth. “These moments of spiritual intuition,” he later wrote, “are valuable because they encourage one to continue one’s search for the objective arguments which are independent of personal intuition.”

In 1918 Mgr. Ronald Knox traced his own conversion to Catholicism in The Spiritual Aeneid, and Lunn wrote a long and critical essay on the work. It betrayed both his fascination of, and exasperation at, a Church which seemed committed to “fantastic and irrational doctrines and which yet continues to make converts among men distinguished not only for intellectual gifts but also for intellectual integrity.” Such was the genesis of Roman Converts (1924), a study of five eminent converts—Newman, Manning, Tyrrell, Chesterton and Ronald Knox. Lunn spent three years writing this book—a task which required that he make a detailed investigation of Catholic theology and apologetics.

REASON AND FAITH

One significant result of the study was Lunn’s realization that Catholics did not, as he had formerly assumed, appeal from reason to faith in support of their claims. Not until one has proved the credentials of the Church by reason, Lunn discovered, is one asked to accept on its authority doctrines which one has no independent means of verifying. The classic argument for Catholicism, observed Lunn, scrupulously avoids any appeal to personal intuitions about the nature of ultimate reality—any appeal to subjective experiences which are incommunicable. On the contrary, the argument for Catholicism is essentially rationalistic, in that it relies upon objective and indisputable facts of everyday experience, such as the fact that “some things are in motion,” which was the starting-point of St. Thomas Aquinas’s five proofs of the existence of God.

This approach to truth appealed irresistibly to Lunn’s mind. “Temperamentally,” he confessed, “I am a sceptic, and am uninterested in creeds which cannot justify themselves at the bar of reason.” The prospect of a religion being subjectively satisfying but not defensible in rational terms never had any appeal for him: he was, in Evelyn Waugh’s words, “restlessly reasonable,” and in the search for truth he pronounced himself “an impenitent rationalist.” He was disconcerted by the intense subjectivism of our age, and he invented a term, “Fif” (meaning “funny internal feeling”) to characterize the criterion now commonly used to evaluate truth and actions. If truth is attainable, he thought, it must be objectively justifiable, and not prey to changing whims and dyspeptic moods. When he later engaged in correspondence with Mgr. Ronald Knox, he readily conceded Knox’s assertion that “a system of doctrine which is for all minds must, somewhere, override the prejudices of some minds.”

In 1930 Lunn had occasion to elaborate his views on the importance of reason by examining its abandonment in the domain of popular science. The Flight from Reason was the first of his many attacks, not on science itself, but on scientific materialism—on the common assumption that science points inevitably to materialism and that life can be explained solely in terms of material processes. There is no allowance for the operation of spiritual forces, since the existence of the supernatural has been peremptorily rejected. Thus, scientific enquiry, which should be genuinely open to all species of evidence, has been vitiated in the past century by the closed-minded insistence on a materialistic conception of the universe.

THE FAILURE OF MATERIALISM

Lunn demonstrated that a belief in God, far from leading to conflict with science, is actually a principle which science requires for its own completion and justification. For materialism is finally a philosophy of nihilism: it ends by questioning the very basis of its own existence.

If materialism be true, Lunn argued, our thoughts are the mere by-product of material processes uninfluenced by reason. They are, therefore, determined by irrational processes, and the thoughts which lead to the conclusion that materialism is right have no relation to reason.

In consequence, modern prophets like Marx and Freud have undermined their own systems of thought; they have been busily engaged in sawing away the branches on which they were sitting, for they have done no less than provide their disciples with reasons for rejecting all philosophies, including the ones they themselves formulated.

After an interval of twenty years, Lunn revised and enlarged this work, assigning it the title, The Revolt against Reason (1950). What began as a fear and impatience of reason had now, in Lunn’s judgement, become a positive cult of unreason. The siege had ended in dethronement, and the outcome has been mental anarchy.

“DIFFICULTIES”

In the same year as The Flight from Reason appeared, (1930), Lunn began an exchange of controversial letters on Catholicism with Ronald Knox; in 1932 they were published in a joint volume called Difficulties. Lunn conceded at the outset the intrinsic plausibility of the Catholic claims—namely, that Christ would not have left the world without establishing some institution to preserve and proclaim his teaching. Lunn’s “difficulties” arose, however, when this expectation was tested in the light of history. The letters ranged over a multitude of thorny questions, both historical and philosophical, from the Spanish Inquisition to Papal Infallibility. In later life, Lunn would remark that the Inquisition had probably done more to damage the cause of Catholicism than any other event. Yet he would also admit that he “became a Catholic in spite of Torquemada and remains a Catholic in spite of Arnold Lunn.”

The debate with Knox opened Lunn’s mind to the divine nature of the Church and the distinction that must ever be maintained between Catholics and Catholicism. “I began to see,” he told one interviewer many years later, “that black sheep do not prove the family motto false. They throw mud over it. But the letters still stand on the crest.” Knox himself expressed this reality most pointedly when he remarked after his conversion to Catholicism in 1917: “now I belong to the same Church as Judas Iscariot.”

As is often the case with conversation, the exchange of le tters did much to clarify Lunn’s own mind. In his own words, he “entered the Church along the road of controversy and by the gate of reason.” Even so, nearly two years were to elapse before he was received into the Catholic Church. During this period he wished that the Church would accept Associate Members who were in general sympathy with its aims but without being prepared to pay the full subscription. He remained on the threshold, content to defend the Church from outside yet unwilling to join it.

“IS CHRISTIANITY TRUE?”

In 1932 he accepted a challenge from the noted British philosopher, Cyril Joad, to discuss Christianity in a series of letters; they were published in the following year as Is Christianity True? Like Lunn, Joad was raised as a Christian but had abandoned it in adolescence, and he attacked Christianity on a wide variety of fronts. Lunn, for his part, was by now a believing Christian, if uncommitted to any particular confession, and thus at times during the debate he felt that he was talking to his former self.

In the Preface, Joad commented on the degree of contemporary ignorance of Christian apologetics. “Professing Christians and militant sceptics alike are often ignorant of the most elementary facts concerning the Christian faith. Theyknew neither its history, its tenets, nor the arguments with which it has been historically defended.”

Yet Joad himself betrayed a disconcerting ignorance of these very facts, and there was, as Lunn later observed in a reminiscence of him, hardly one popular misrepresentation of Catholicism which did not find its way into their correspondence.

Joad reminded Lunn of the character in Chesterton’s novel, The Man Who Was Thursday (1908), who knew all about Christianity because he had read it up in two works, Religion the Vampire and Priests of Prey.

The book inspired an enduring friendship between the two men, and demonstrated that controversy and courtesy are not incompatible. Nowhere was the good-tempered atmosphere in which letters were exchanged more evident that in Joad’s last letter to Lunn: “You have been eloquent, alert and amusing, and you have hit hard and clean. I respect your intelligence, and I acknowledge an expert in the art of controversy; if at the end I am unable to respond to your general appeal, to give marks to Christianity rather than to yourself, you must comfort yourself with the reflection that, if your elder person argument counts for anything, I may one day come to share your present convictions, as I apparently now share your past doubts. If I do, you may well claim to have sown in my unconscious, since my conscious self disowns it, the seed of my future conversion.”

The remark was prophetic: Joad died an Anglo-Catholic, and he told Lunn that the seed of his conversion had indeed been sown by their friendly argument.

CHANGED CONCERNS

It is a sign of changed concerns—and of changed apologetics—that a comparable debate today would tend to revolve around the practical worth of Christianity rather than its dogmatic foundations, the value of the Christian way of life rather than the truth of the Christian Gospel. Contemporary man has been effectively secularized, and his mind is not readily attuned to the intimations of the supernatural; his outlook is technological rather than transcendental, concerned with a way of life rather than a why of life. When the aching emptiness of a life of materialism proves unbearable, his spiritual searchings are liable to be intensely egocentric, guided more by personal experiences than by objective revelations.

Such a mental climate is not conducive to the appeals of reason—and, therefore, perhaps averse to a rational discussion on Christianity of the kind conducted by Lunn and Joad. Yet there will always exist those whose approach to the Church is primarily rational, and who feel impelled, inthe words of St. Peter, to give “a reason of that hope which is in (them).” Such enquirers will always look to the truth of a thing more than its supposed relevance, and embrace that truth even when it will prove demanding rather than reassuring.

REASON AND SPIRIT

The main importance of argument in the process of conversion, Lunn believed, is that it helps to destroy the barriers which separate men from God; it undermines the prejudices which prevent the growth of faith. Though the operations of reason can themselves be clouded by prejudice and distorted by desire, the appeal of evidence, whether it be the evidence of logic or of fact, can ultimately prove irresistible.

Yet, if reason brought Lunn to the threshold of faith, it could not, he soon realized, compel him to cross it. “Finally,” admitted Robert Bolt’s St. Thomas More in his death-cell, “it isn’t a matter of reason; finally it’s a matter of love.” In Lunn’s eyes, the presence of saints in the Church was the clinching argument, for their lives testified to a radiant love of God a love which is not natural, in the strictest sense of the term, but supernatural. “Holiness,” he later wrote, “is a force as real as electricity, and like electricity can be recognized by certain results even in the material world.”

It was the power of sanctity which finally convinced Lunn that Catholicism is not merely rational but superrational; that the source of its life lies beyond the reach of reason and is literally not of this world. In a renewed exchange betweenRonald Knox and Lunn almost two decades after their original debate, Knox remarked: “It was a good thing, I think, that you did not choose a more adroit opponent; it might have looked as if you were being battered, by sheer force of reasoning, into submission. In proportion as the reader is led to exclaim, “Fancy being convinced by arguments like that!” he will perhaps be led to wonder whether it is, after all, entirely a matter of argument.” Lunn now realized that it was not. The sanctuary for which he had been searching loomed invitingly before him, and it was a chance remark of Cardinal Newman’s which induced him to enter. “You must make a venture; faith is a venture before a man is a Catholic. You approach the Church in the way of reason, you enter it in the light of the spirit.”

NOW I SEE

On 13th July, 1933, Mgr. Knox received Lunn into the Church, unleashing thereby on a de-Christianised society one whom Evelyn Waugh called “the most tireless Catholic apologist of his generation.”

The story of Lunn’s conversion is related in Now I See, which was published in November 1933. The title was taken from St. John’s Gospel (9; 25): “One thing I know, that whereas I was blind now I see.” In later life, Lunn’s fame in the ski-ing world gave rise to confusion over the title, and he liked to recount the story of the man who bought Now I See to take to the Alps, opened it on the plane, and discovered to his horror that the title was not, as he had expected, Now I Ski!

In retrospect, Lunn felt grateful that his approach to Catholicism had followed the path it did. “I can imagine,” he said, “no better training for the Church than to spend, as I did, a year arguing the case against Catholicism with a Catholic, and a second year in defending the Catholic position againstan agnostic.”

Now I See is divided into two parts: the first is autobiographical and traces the author’s quest for truth and his final embrace of Catholicism, and the second unfolds the classic arguments for the Faith, showing that one can establish by reason the existence of God, the divinity of Christ, and the authority of the Church.

The book has been reprinted numerous times—and justifiably, for it relates, in readable prose, a fascinating personal story, and offers a persuasive outline of the fundamental tenets of the Catholic faith. Lunn’s old adversary, Cyril Joad, wrote a sympathetic review of the book, applauding Lunn’s capacity “to make righteousness readable—a very rare accomplishment.” Moreover, he “has the wit to notice facts such as that orthodoxy has lain so long disused on the shelf that it is just beginning to be taken off it as an exciting novelty.”

“A SAINT IN THE SLAVE TRADE”

It is entirely fitting that Lunn’s next book should have been devoted to a saint. His subject was St. Peter C laver (1581–1654), the Apostle of the Negroes in the West Indies, and Lunn entitled the work, A Saint in the Slave Trade (1934). Sanctity had exercised a decisive influence on Lunn’s conversion: he came to see that it was the compelling demonstration and justification of religious faith. If ever the eye of reason should grow cold and insensitive to the mystical dimensions of religion, the saints were there to provide the corrective of colour and warmth. As he was later to write: “Sanctity is heroic virtue, holiness transmuted by something which is not of this world, goodness which bears the unmistakable imprint of the supernatural. . . . The saint is the final argument for the Catholic Church, for in the Catholic climate sanctity still flowers, and still sweetens this tormented world with the fragrance of heaven and the scent of Paradise.”

“SCIENCE AND THE SUPERNATURAL”

In 1931 Lunn had challenged the renowned scientist, Prof. J.B.S. Haldane, to debate in book form Science and the Supernatural, and the ensuing exchange of letters extended over three years, culminating in publication in 1935. This was not the least tedious feature of the controversy, for it was marked also by an animosity uncharacteristic of most debates in which Lunn was involved.

The principal cause was that Haldane had expected Lunn to attack science, whereas Lunn had the profoundest respect for science—he had defended the scientific method in The Flight from Reason—but a genial aversion to the ideology which Haldane professed, scientific materialism, “the superstition that science has made it impossible to believe in the supernatural in general or in miracles in particular.” Haldane was disturbed by the attack upon his beliefs, and his letters acquired an intemperance which soured the atmosphere in which the debate was conducted.

Nonetheless, the book itself had at least two worthwhile effects: it removed from the mind of Lord Longford, a subsequent convert to Catholicism, the suspicion that “in a real showdown there would be materialist questions the man of religion could not face;” and it helped to revive the faith of Lunn’s secretary (who later became his second wife), Phyllis Holt-Needham.

In 1913 Lunn had married Mabel Northcote, a lady of remarkable sensitivity and wit, and their marriage, which was blessed with three children, ended with Mabel’s death in 1959. Two years later he married his secretary—on his own birthday, as it happened, “so as to ensure,” his wife said to him, “a reasonable chance of your remembering our wedding date.”

WITHIN THAT CITY

In 1936 Lunn paused to review the momentous step he had taken three years before in entering the Catholic Church. At the conclusion to Now I See, he had quoted one of his favourite passages—a moving depiction of the Church by Hilaire Belloc: “There is a city full, as are all cities, of halt and maimed, blind and evil and the rest; but it is the city of God. There are not two such cities on earth. There is One. . . . One thing in this world is different from all other. It has a personality and a force. It is recognized, and (when recognized) most violently loved or hated. It is the Catholic Church. Within that household the human spirit has roof and hearth. Outside it, is the night.” Lunn was now a member of that divine household; he was now Within That City, and this was the title which he assigned to the book of discerning essays he wrote in 1936. The development which he had experienced as a Catholic was reflected in one of the chapter headings, “Water into Wine,” in which he pointed out that his assent to the doctrines of the Church had now become real and not merely notional.

The transformation was well traced in a Vatican broadcast which he made on 4th May, 1951. Called “Rome through Three Spectacles,” the talk examined his impressions of Rome over several decades—first in 1929, when he saw the city through Protestant spectacles; next in 1933, soon after he became a Catholic; and finally in 1950, as he was about to embark on a world lecture tour. The blending of the casual and the ostentatious, which characterizes the devotional practice of Continental Catholicism, at first disturbed Lunn, but he gradually came to see this as vivid evidence of a people at home in the House of God.

THE HOLY YEAR, 1950

Slowly, yet irresistibly, water was transformed into wine “the water of uneasy conviction into the wine of unquestioning faith.” In 1950 he saw Rome indubitably through Catholic spectacles. He joined the unending procession of pilgrims through the basilicas which war had spared, and he felt most poignantly the sentiment of homecoming: “Nothing in my life as a Catholic has moved me more than those hours which I spent visiting the basilicas. Nothing has given me a greater sense of the universal nature of the Church than the stream of pilgrims of so many different countries and different races. And nothing has done more to reinforce the conviction which finally brought me into the Church that there is only one household in which the tormented spirit of man can find rest and certitude.”

Lunn’s growing reputation as a Catholic advocate gave rise in 1936 to an invitation to teach apologetics at the University of Notre Dame in Indiana (U.S.A.). He gladly accepted and, for three successive years (1936–38), he spent one term as a visiting professor at the University. The experience enabled him to test certain apologetical techniques which he had developed, as well as showing him how inadequately Catholic students are equipped to defend their faith.

“THE THIRD DAY”

Lunn’s basic method of teaching Christianity foll owed that which he had adopted in learning about it—namely, a rationalistic approach involving a study of the Resurrection as an historical miracle demonstrating the divinity of Christ. Lunn always asserted, with St. Paul, that “if Christ has not risen, . . . then is our preaching vain, and your faith is also vain.” He regarded the Resurrection as the greatest of historical problems, and his own prolonged research into the event had played a crucial part in bringing him to the Church. In 1945 he produced his own study of the Resurrection, The Third Day, in which he subjected the evidence for the event to rigorous scrutiny, and answered the various objections which have been advanced against the Resurrection as the only convincing explanation for the Empty Tomb.

For the tomb in which Christ had been placed after the Crucifixion was, two days later, unquestionably empty: even the enemies of Christianity had admitted it. Thus, either the body had been stolen by the disciples, as the Pharisees maintained, or else Christ had in fact risen from the dead. But if the disciples had stolen the body, why would they have propagated what they knew to be a monstrous and unnecessary lie- and endure death by martyrdom rather than recant? Moreover, it was belief in the Resurrection which had converted the Apostles from terror-stricken defeatists into the dynamic missionaries of Christ. The evidence for it, in fact, as Lunn showed, is overwhelming—and confirmed by the cumulative testimony of events like the proven occurrence of miracles throughout the ages.

The periods which Lunn spent at Notre Dame were both pleasant and fruitful. One of his students was responsible, humanly speaking, for bringing twelve converts into the Church in four years, and it was the sort of success which Lunn would later cite in the face of pleas that “argument gets you nowhere.”

SAINTS AND SINNERS

At Notre Dame Lunn was described by his colleagues as “the wandering journalist.” He did, indeed, engage in an immense amount of travelling during the second half of the 1930”s, most often in connection with the cause of the Spanish Civil War.

In 1937 the British Prime Minister, Neville Chamberlain, suggested to the historian, Sir Arthur Bryant, that Lunn be asked to visit Spain and record his impressions in a book which would seek to restore balance to the discussion of a conflict that had proved deeply divisive, even in countries like Britain. In George Orwell’s words, the Spanish Civil War was “above all things a political war,” and on this account Lunn’s book was to be circulated to every Conservative Member of the British Parliament.

The author spent several months at the Spanish front and the outcome was Spanish Rehearsal (1937), an eloquent defence of Franco’s cause. It bore the unmistakable marks of the heat of battle, and the title reflected Lunn’s belief that here was the grim rehearsal of a more destructive conflict. The tragedy of World War II was barely two years away.

Yet, in Lunn’s view, the war had another, even more significant dimension: it was “only a phase in the recurring battle between the two rival interpretations of life, the spiritual and the materialistic.” It was primarily in terms of Catholicism under assault from Communism that Lunn construed the conflict in Spain.

THE CHURCH IN SPAIN

Without doubt the spectacle of Spanish Catholicism had a profound impact on him. For the first time he saw the Church in action—a society which was impregnated with Catholic belief, and, though it might often have betrayed the ideals which flow from that belief, it had never abandoned its loyalty to the historic faith.

In face of national turmoil and the ever-present threat of martyrdom, this loyalty acquired the dimension of heroism. Lunn was deeply moved by the tenacity of the ordinary Spanish Catholic; a tenacity which was more a consecration than a commitment, and which Lunn had earlier perceived when he studied the first Apostles, who suffered death rather than renounce their faith in Christ. He was fond of quoting Pascal’s comment: “I readily believe those witnesses who get their throats cut.”

In 1938 Lunn returned briefly to Spain and celebrated Easter Sunday by attending High Mass in Seville Cathedral. He saw the Death and Resurrection of Christ reflected in the fortunes of Spain, and he was pierced with hope. “One loves Chartres,” he said, “as Martha loved Lazarus before he died, but one loves Seville as Martha loved Lazarus after he had been raised from the dead.”

THE “HALF -CHRISTIAN”

In Spain Lunn encountered in its full force the phenomenon of the “half-Christian”—the person who professes belief in Christianity without being noticeably conscientious about practising it. He was struck, for example, by the spectacle of Spaniards genuflecting to the altar before they proceeded to burn down the church. For a great many people, especially perhaps those who are not Catholics, this phenomenon is a tragic scandal, which is difficult to reconcile with the claim of Catholicism to be the one and only true Church; for surely a cardinal mark of the true Church would be holiness.

Holiness has assuredly been one of the marks of the Catholic Church, as an illustrious gallery of saints throughout history attests. Yet the Catholic Church is also catholic: it is universal, and has been enjoined to bring all men to salvation—a mission forever symbolized by the outstretched arms of Christ on the Cross. The Church has never been a society of the elect, of saints to the exclusion of sinners. It has embraced the respectable and the notorious, the brilliant and the mediocre, the powerful and the weak, the prosperous and the poor.

Lunn was profoundly attracted by the power of the Church, not only to inspire saints, but also to evoke the loyalty of sinners and to retain the allegiance of the naturally irreligious.

“The “half Christian” is, indeed, a very useful member of society, and so long as he continues to form the backbone of a state, Christian ethics will not be challenged. Sinners will continue to sin, but they will, at least, have the decency to refrain from preaching what they practise—a much more serious offence than failing to practise what they preach. Lip-service to Christian ideals is better than no service; platonic respect for the Christian code of morality is better than official contempt. Czarist Russia, which was officially Christian, was less corrupt, less immoral, and infinitely less degraded than Bolshevist Russia which is officially atheistic.”

Modest of his own capacity to be a saint, Lunn was reassured as well as impressed by the evidence which the Church constituted of the merciful patience of God. He saw that it is “not only the nursery of saints, but a hospital for sinners,” and only a Church which could accommodate sinners—sinners who, admittedly, have kept alive the sense of sin—could find a place for Arnold Lunn.

During World War II, he became friendly with a priest on board a ship sailing for Peru. The conversation turned to St. Peter Claver, and the priest commended to Lunn an excellent book on the saint. But he could not recollect its title.

“Was it by any chance called A Saint in the Slave Trade?” asked Lunn.

“Yes, that’s it,” said the priest. “You should read it.” And he added sternly, “It would do you good.”

“I dare say it would,” replied Lunn sadly, “if I didn’t know the author.” Such knowledge, he was convinced, was sufficient to repel the favourably disposed reader. “I have, of course,” Lunn confessed, “learned by experience that my only hope of retaining the respect of those who like my writings about the Faith is to insist that they remain penfriends. Any slight influence which I might hope to exercise through my writings is promptly counteracted by my personal example.”

Such a disclaimer was not a sign of false modesty. Lunn was not without vanity—though even this was more the panache of the public performer than the pretentiousness of the egotist. Beneath the surface confidence lurked a genuine humility which manifested itself throughout his life. The capacity to laugh at oneself is one of the signs of humility, and it was a capacity which Lunn possessed in salutary measure. When asked at the end of a lecture he gave in Sydney in 1950 what had been his approach to the Confessional when he became a Catholic, he answered: “Slow and reluctant.”

Moreover, he was incurably absent-minded. He had the habit of losing a large bag which contained the cylinders for his dictaphone. “We travel down together,” he said, “from Charing Cross, but whereas I get out at Chislehurst, my bag usually prefers to spend the night with friends at Sevenoaks. On the last occasion when my secretary applied at the Lost Luggage Office to reclaim the prodigal the bored official in charge turned his head and asked the man behind him, “Is the Lunn bag in again this morning?” “

“COMMUNISM AND SOCIALISM”

In 1939 the author published Communism and Socialism, which was a study of the twin threats to Western culture posed by Hitler and Stalin. Lunn believed that the dictators had much in common, for their regimes were aggressively totalitarian in their claims. In place of Christ, Hitler had exalted Race, and Stalin Class. The fruits of such idolatry were already tragically apparent.

The 1930”s were now drawing to th eir catastrophic close. They had been for Lunn, as for so many others, a decade of tumultuous drama; a time for searching and a time for believing; a a time for judging and a time for acting. Lunn’s quest for truth had culminated in his conversion in 1933 to Catholicism, and the intervening years had only served to reinforce his decision. He had begun the decade by recording The Flight from Reason (1930), and he was ending it with the growing conviction that only through the Church could this flight be arrested. He saw, with a clarity intensified by crisis, that the two qualities which the Church was commonly supposed to stifle—reason and freedom were increasingly evident only in the Church and required the Church for their preservation in society. The Flight from Reason, Lunn later said, examined “the suicidal tendencies of modern thought”: World War II was to show the social consequences of these tendencies.

THE TRAVELLER

In October 1939, one month after the war begun, Lunn left London for his much-beloved Switzerland. The Alps now loomed more than ever as symbols of permanence in a crumbling world, and Lunn was enchanted to behold them again. From Switzerland he set out on a European journey which took him through Yugoslavia, (generally known as Jugoslavia at that time), Hungary, Rumania, Bulgaria, Italy and Malta. The impressions which he gathered were embodied in Whither Europe? (1940). The future of Europe was a question of mounting concern and urgency as the continent was convulsed by war. Lunn was deeply European in outlook, and his breadth of experience, both intellectually and geographically, had convinced him of a truth to which Belloc had first alerted him, that “Christianity is not only a creed but a culture,” and that “the way of life which is the flower of Christianity would not survive the destruction of the Christian faith.”

During the next few years Lunn continued his habit of extensive travelling. In 1940 he visited Ireland as a special correspondent for the London Tablet, and soon aftersailed to New York to begin a six months” tour of the United States. These and other war-time experiences were recorded in And the Floods Came; a chapter of war-time autobiography (1942).

When he returned to London in 1941 he saw the desolate effects of many months of air raids. He went to Mass with Douglas and Mia Woodruff in the almost-demolished Southwark Cathedral, and observed that the chief object of destruction had been the figure of Christ in the Stations of the Cross, for in many of them His was the only face that had suffered disfigurement. The shattered setting for the Great Sacrifice served to remind Lunn that “collective security is an idle dream, for man is born not for security but for adventure, not for comfort but for hardship. A cathedral unscarred by war or by revolution is incomplete, for it lacks the consecration of suffering.”

Throughout the war Lunn’s mind was never far from the spiritual implications of the conflict. The belief that the threat to Western culture would disappear with the defeat of Nazism was to him an illusion. He realized that we would see again the proposal of political solutions which reflect, not a grasp of man’s spiritual nature, but rather a denial of it.

Certain truths were now becoming manifest, the chief among t hem being “that secular remedies for human maladies are not enough and that a civilization which turns its back on God cannot escape disaster.”

Lunn now saw a desperate need to speak to the increasing numbers of those who “have no definite beliefs or disbeliefs,” yet who nonetheless “realize the bankruptcy of all secular substitutes for Christianity.” In 1944 he published another book of essays with this aim in view. Called The Good Gorilla, the work drew its title from a remarkable passage of Renan, the 19th century French philosopher who had abandoned Catholicism.

In later life Renan retreated from his earlier confidence in the benefits which would flow from the displacement of religion by science, and confessed that the promised substitutes for religion were, in fact, producing some disturbing results: “It seems possible that the collapse of supernatural beliefs will be followed by the collapse of moral convictions, and that the moment when humanity sees the reality of things will be the beginning of a real moral decline. Under the influence of illusions [by which Renan meant Christianity], the good gorilla succeeded in making an astonishing moral effort. Remove the illusions and a part of the artificial energy which they evoked will disappear . . . We areliving on the perfume of an empty vase.”

Amid the gas of Hitler’s death-chambers and the thickening smoke of bombs which would soon culminate in the nuclear mushroom cloud, it was becoming difficult to detect even the perfume.

In late 1943 the Rev. John (now Cardinal) Heenan suggested that the well-known historian and inveterate opponent of Catholicism, Dr. G. G. Coulton, should debate with Arnold Lunn the question: Is the Catholic Church anti-social? The debate, which lasted a year, was published under that title in 1947. Once again, it proved a tedious rather than stimulating exercise for Lunn. Dr. Coulton harboured a venomous hatred for the Church, and this injected a certain illwill into the debate which Lunn’s gestures of courtesy could do little to soften.

Moreover, Coulton felt under no compulsion to keep to the point: in a correspondence in which the average letter was meant to be from 3,000 to 7,000 words in length, Coulton’s second letter stretched to 34,000 words, departing frequently from the stated subject of the debate—which was the social consequences of Catholicism, and not the truth of Catholic doctrine. Such licence was insupportable in an exchange in which both authors had agreed to confine their total word-length to 50,000!

AUSTRALIAN VISIT

In August 1950 Lunn embarked upon a long lecturing journey which took him around the world. He spent six weeks in Australia, lecturing to various audiences in Melbourne, Perth, Adelaide, Canberra and Sydney. “I have the happiest memories of Australia,” he later recalled, “and am sad that my hope to return there for another lecture tour was never realized.”

The Australian tour began in Melbourne, where Lunn delivered four major lectures. At each of them Archbishop Mannix, by that time 86 years old, wasin attendance, and at a lunch party which he gave in the author’s honour, Lunn expressed anxiety that the Archbishop might be overtaxing himself. He was enchanted by Dr. Mannix’s smiling response: “When I get old, I really will have to start taking care of myself.”

Whilst in Melbourne, Lunn also engaged in a public debate with Glanville Cook, the Secretary of the Rationalist Society of Australia. Their subject was: Is the Catholic Church intolerant and a bar to progress?

PUBLIC DEBATES

Lunn always believed that, as a means of communicating the truths of Catholicism to non-Catholics, debates are incomparably more effective than lectures. Debates tend to attract the unconverted who will rarely attend the formal lecture held under Catholic auspices. On this occasion, a vast hall at Melbourne University was crowded with students throughout the two hours” debate with Glanville Cook. The event proved so popular that it was later repeated in Melbourne itself.

Lunn’s motto as a debater was St. Augustine’s precept, “Love men, slay errors.” “Intolerance of error,” Lunn pointed out, “must not be equated with intolerance of men in error.” Controversy must not lead to quarrelling, and Lunn’s tact and composure before this Australian university audience were highly impressive. Indeed, so poor a representative was he of the Church’s alleged intolerance that Glanville Cook voiced the opinion that Lunn was not a typical Catholic. “Some men,” he remarked, “are better than their creeds”—a suggestion which amused Lunn hugely and prompted the reply that “no man was good enough to live up to the Catholic code or bad enough to live down to atheism.”

After the debate, Vincent Buckley, at that time President of the Newman Society at Melbourne University, complimented Lunn on the “great tradition of intellectual chivalry” which he had left behind for them to emulate. “My difficulty,” Lunn admitted, “has been to live up to the standards which I contrived with great difficulty to maintain on this occasion!”

On another Australian university campus, Lunn fell into discussion with a group of logical positivists. A basic feature of their philosophy is that all moral judgements are meaningless, and Lunn therefore raised the question of Hitler’s extermination of the Jews. Was it right or was it wrong? The logical positivists were embarrassed by this challenge, for Lunn was quick to point out that their creed did not allow for a moral condemnation of Hitler’s actions. “What finally killed logical positivism,” he subsequently observed, “was the fact that every logical positivist was forced to admit some moral judgements were far from meaningless.”

Whether in friendly discussion or in formal debate, Lunn exhibited the qualities which made him such an impressive advocate: a formidable power of persuasion, an entertaining style of presentation, a captivating sense of humour, an unwavering strength of conviction, and an ingratiating honesty which was ever ready to concede a fair point. Frank Sheed once said that Lunn had a mind like quicksilver, and both his writings and his public performances demonstrate this mental agility, in particular the swiftness with which he could detect the weakness of an argument or an intellectual position.

VISIT TO AMERICA

From Australia Lunn flew to America on the final leg of his world tour. He had been abroad for four months, but seemed unexhausted by the incessancy of the lecture circuit. Despite the whispers of approaching age, the pattern of work which he had pursued for many years—writing books and journal articles, penning book reviews, delivering public lectures, handling correspondence—continued unabated. In his 68th year, for example, he produced two books, edited and wrote about 15,000 words for The British Ski Year Book (which he edited, remarkably, from 1919 to 1971), wrote some 75 articles, including a weekly article, and did a threemonths” lecture tour in America.

Throughout the years, the books on religious themes were interspersed with volumes on ski-ing and mountaineering. These were, indeed, the two main pursuits of Lunn’s life: downhill ski-ing and uphill Christianity. It was on account of his prowess in the former sphere that he received a knighthood in 1952 “for services to ski-ing and AngloSwiss relations”—and in the sameyear was made a Citoyen d‘honneur of Chamonix, the town in France in which he had first put on a pair of skis at the age of ten.

As he reached the Psalmist’s span of three score and ten, books of memoirs began to appear. He had written an early autobiography in 1940, Come What May, and he now brought out Memory to Memory (1956), And yet so New (1958), and finally, Unkilled for so Long (1968). Each of these works was vintage Lunn—replete with good anecdotes, warm recollections of family and friends, and incisive judgements on the events and trends of our age.

MORAL RE-ARMAMENT

In 1953 Lunn paid the first of many visits to Caux, the Swiss headquarters of the movement known as Moral Rearmament (M.R.A.). For the next three years he made a systematic investigation of M.R.A., and in 1957 produced Enigma, the first book on the movement by an English Catholic. It was widely hailed as an eminently fair account, illustrative of the author’s sympathetic interest yet detached outlook. Lunn found much in the movement which did not appeal to him, but he also cheerfully acknowledged its positive achievements, such as the conversion of leading Communists and the reconciliation of lapsed Catholics. In particular was he impressed by M.R.A.”s readiness and capacity to co-operate in an alliance against the rampant secularism of our time.

Lunn’s own religious background disposed him to such co-operation. Now a Catholic, he was the son of a Methodist father and an Anglican mother. In 1929 he had written a life of John Wesley (1703–91), the founder of Methodism, and the work, which displayed a sympathy allied to critical discernment, was selected as the Protestant Book of the Month in America.

Lunn was deeply impressed by the missionary zeal of Wesley, and the conclusion of his book paid tribute to this quality: [John Wesley’s] life had all but covered the span of the dying century, and perhaps those who watched the lowering of his body into the empty grave realized in some dim, prophetic fashion that they were present at the burial, not only of a man, but of an epoch. For the old world did not long survive John Wesley. It was 1791, and the “rumble of a distant drum” had already proclaimed the blood-red dawn of revolution. England was to pass unscathed through those troubled years, but the tumbrels might well have been seen in the streets of London, had not a little man in gown and bands taken the world for his parish, and changed the hearts of men.”

The challenge of continuing such apostolic work exercised an irresistible appeal for Lunn—and he thought of the task in ecumenical terms long before it became fashionable to do so. As early as 1940 he was affirming his belief that “the ever-growing peril of militant atheism . . . is forcing Christians to realize that the beliefs which unite them are more important than those which divide them.” In 1944 he stated that “the co-operation of all who profess and call themselves Christians will be necessary to repel the threat to Christianity.” Thus he readily welcomed the formation in 1940 of the Sword of the Spirit, an ecumenical movement designed to enlist the co-operation of Christians in resistance against tyranny and in promotion of the social realization of Christian principles. Although the venture proved abortive, it was a model of the kind of movement Lunn felt was desperately needed—a vital and effective alliance between Christians of all denominations in defence of the Christian faith and the Christian moral law.

LAST DAYS

During the 1960”s Lunn himself contributed to such an alliance. As an expression of active ecumenism, he collaborated with an Anglican friend, Garth Lean, in a series of books on contemporary culture. The authors examined, with full documentation, the erosion of Christian belief and morality, and outlined its disastrous social consequences.

“THE NEW MORALITY”

In 1964 they produced the first critical analysis of what has been called “The New Morality,” a concerted attempt to undermine the foundations of traditional Christian morality, particularly its teaching on sex. “The fundamental weakness of the New Moralists,” averred Lunn and Lean, “is that they . . . appear to think it more compassionate to condone sin than to convince people that, in Christ, can be found the power to conquer it.” The work was so popular that the authors issued an enlarged and up-dated edition in 1967.

In 1965 Lunn and Lean wrote The Cult of Softness, which examined the effects of a revolt against objective and absolute standards in the fields of education, theology, literature, the theatre and television.

They strove to make clear that they were more concerned by the capitulation of mind evident in the tendencies to dilute Christian morality than by the unmistakable signs of selfindulgence: “we are less worried,” they remarked, “by the increase of sexual immorality among the young than by the increase of intellectual immorality among the middleaged.”

“INTELLECTUAL IMMORALITY”

Lunn always regarded “intellectual immorality” as the ultimate form of hypocrisy. He regretted that people did n ot practise what they preached—himself included—but he thought it far worse when they began to preach what they practised, adjusting their moral code to fit their behaviour rather than the other way round, and rationalizing the absolute demands of Christian morality.

Although ardently keen to spread the Faith, Lunn was never prone to appease those who would not accept it. “Religions are like bees,” he once wrote, “Remove their sting and they die.” He affirmed that Christianity was neither a fashionable nor an easy religion, and as “the contrast between the Christian and secular culture becomes more marked, the Christian is tempted to play down all that still separates him from the secularists, and to seek to conciliate a secular society by identifying himself with fashionable causes.” Lunn on the other hand, was more interested in converting than in conciliating a secular society, and he strenuously opposed all attempts to tamper with what he called “the Christianity of Christ.”

The common notion that any form of behavio ur is acceptable if sanctioned by one’s conscience struck Lunn as “very accommodating,” for “it is delightfully easy to obtain a nihil obstat from a properly conditioned conscience. It is only too easy to persuade ourselves that we are justified in doing what we want to do. Hence the paramount necessity for objective standards of right and wrong by which we can judge our own behaviour.”

In his later years Lunn found it increasingly difficult to secure opponents with whom to debate. He challenged both Dr. John Robinson (of Honest to God fame) and Canon Rhymes to engage in an exchange of letters on the New Morality, but the debates never transpired. In 1969 he responded to a public request by the British Humanist Association that dialogue between Christians and Humanists should take place. His initial challenge to the prominent Humanist, the late Sir Julian Huxley, was declined, and even the Association itself was unable to find a candidate. Lunn sharply defined “dialogue” as “a fashionable word for what is hoped will prove a discussion between a sceptic and an intimidated Christian.” He hardly qualified as “an intimidated Christian,” and his conception of “dialogue” as a controversy between a committed Christian and his opponent clearly did not tally with the Humanist Association’s understanding of the word.

In 1969 Lunn produced his final book, Christian Counter-attack, again the fruit of collaboration with Garth Lean. Where The New Morality and The Cult of Softness had surveyed the dimensions of the assault upon Christian principles, the new work presented positive ways of combating this process and inspiring a revival of Christianity.

Lunn believed that, in a culture pervaded by secularism, the prime task for the Christian advocate is to awaken interest in the supernatural. A secularized world neither engenders nor sustains a religious outlook, and its citizens gradually cease to be conscious of any spiritual need for Christianity to fulfil. The result is that religious knowledge is assumed to be illusory, incapable of shedding any real light on the great problems which afflict mankind.

To demonstrate the truth and importance of Christianity in such an atmosphere is a formidable challenge. Lunn’s approach was to seek to convince the victims of secularism that supernatural events, which a materialistic philosophy is powerless to explain, have occurred and are still occurring.

In Christian Counter-attack, for example, he produced the latest evidence on extra-sensory perception in order to show that, in the words ofone agnostic, “there is something about the human mind which we cannot explain in exclusively materialistic terms.”

Lunn’s appetite for apologetics remained insatiable, and up to a few weeks before his death he was planning a sequel to The Cult of Softness “to crown,” in the words of his friend, Douglas Woodruff, “40 years of brave and fruitful Christian apologetic.”

The Second Vatican Council was an event which Lunn wholeheartedly welcomed. In particular was he pleased with the Council’s ecumenical initiatives, for he had long argued for closer relations among the Christian Churches and active co-operation on common issues. However, the aftermath of the Council caused him considerable disquiet; and, as for so many Catholics, the ferment. was crystallized in the changes in the liturgy.

Lunn acknowledged that “the introduction of the vernacular was undoubtedly beneficial,” but he did not agree with the abolition of the Latin liturgy, for he believed that it demonstrated the unity and the universality of the Church and reflected the richness of its cultural traditions. When the Latin Mass Society was formed in Britain in 1965, Lunn was elected its first President, and he retained this post until 1970, at which time he resigned from the Society in opposition to its growing—and in his judgement futile—insistence that the Tridentine Mass was the only acceptable form of Latin Mass.

The chairman of the Association for Latin Liturgy, Dr R. Richens, who was intimately involved in the controversy, later declaredthat “in no field of Catholic activity has Sir Arnold himself displayed greater prudence and discretion.”

On June 2, 1974, Sir Arnold Lunn died in London at the age of eighty-six. It was fitting, as the editor of the London Tablet, Tom Burns, observed, that it should have been on the Feast of Pentecost “he who had lived with a pentecostal flame within him ever since his conversion.”

It was the mountains which had first kindled this flame, and it was the mountains which inspired its most vivid illumination. As Lunn reflected on the occasion of his 70th birthday: “I have learned to distinguish between the Architect and his creation, but I often wonder in what desert of scepticism I should still be wandering but for the revelation of God in the temporal loveliness of the mountains. The saints are in love with God and they have eyes which can see into heaven, but ordinary folk are grateful for those moments on earth when the clouds of doubt pass and the thinning mists disclose a fugitive glimpse of the “hid battlements of eternity”.”

* * *

PRAYERS OF ARNOLD LUNN

Let me give thanks, dear Lord, in the frailty of age for the beloved mountains of my youth, for the challenge of rock and for the joy of skiing, for the friends with whom I climbed and skied, and above all, dear Lord, for those moments of revelation when the temporal beauty of the mountains reinforces my faith in the Eternal beauty which is not subject to decay.

As I await the gift of sleep, dear Lord, let me not take for granted the roof above and the pillow below my head. Arouse my sluggish compassion for the homeless and the destitute and for all Christians suffering for their faith.

Nihil Obstat:

BERNARD O”CONNOR, Diocesan Censor

Imprimatur:

@ T. F. LITTLE,

Archbishop of Melbourne 15th September, 1975

********

Mr. Brown’s Conversion

AND OTHER TRUE TALES ABOUT OUR LADY’S INTERCESSION BY A PARISH PRIEST

INDEX

IT WAS PRETTY and devotional, that little church, the house of God in my first parish. When I stood at the desk (which served as a pulpit), before reading the notices on Sunday, I had only to glance round the small congregation for a few seconds, to know who was present and who was absent. When my eye caught a stranger, I would make a mental note that I must find out whether he or she was a new-comer to the parish, or only a passing visitor. Easy enough to do after evening service, when I could get to the door of the church before most of the congregation had gone out, but an impossibility after Mass, when the prie-dieu was waiting for me to make my thanksgiving.

I noticed the two ladies at Mass four or five Sundays, but as they did not come in the evenings I could not introduce myself to them. It was Chris, my thurifer (who was also a delivery boy for a local grocer), who told me that two Catholic ladies had come to live at one of the new houses at the top of Oak Road. He described which house it was; so early that week I made my way to Oak Road to pay my respects to my new parishioners.

Mrs. Brown (whom I may call Olivia) gave me a very kind welcome. After showing me round her pretty house, she took me into a charming garden, where she spoke of roses, and showed me more varieties than I ever dreamt existed. Returning to the house, she began to tell me all about herself; for although she was about thirty-five years of age, she had a sweet simplicity about her, and a child-like confidence in talking to a priest. The other lady who came with her to Mass, she said, was her step-sister Freda, still in her twenties, for whom she had a deep affection. She kept the sad note till the end. Her husband, she told me, was one of the best men in the world, kind and thoughtful towards her and towards her step-sister, a successful man of business, and fond of the world. But there was one subject which irritated him beyond measure-religion. He had never been baptized, had never attended any place of worship, and had a strong dislike for all ministers of religion. He had been in a Catholic church once-to marry her; he would drive her and her step-sister to Mass on Sundays; but nothing would induce him to come inside the church; he would go for a run in the car, and return to the church gate in time to pick them up after the service.

It was the fact that he had never been baptized at all that particularly distressed Olivia. “Do you think there is any hope for a man like that?,” she asked me. I told her to pray, and to have great confidence that her prayer would one day be answered. “Think of St Monica,” I said, “who prayed and prayed year after year for her son Augustine, until he became, not merely a Christian, but a great saint.” Olivia smiled sweetly but incredulously, and said, “yes, Father, but, you see, I am not a saint; far from it.” She was, however, a most devout Catholic, as I learnt during the few years of our acquaintanceship.

About three months later, when visiting that part of the parish, I made my second call at the house in Oak Road. It was evening, and Mr. Brown had returned from his business in town. Olivia took me into the drawing-room, and introduced me to her step-sister, Freda, and to Mr. Brown. He received me with cold civility. They were playing cards. “I suppose you do not hold with this kind of amusement,” he said to me. “Far from it,” I replied; “It is some time since I played cards, and I am not a good player; so I don’t want to spoil your game; but if you like to tell me how to play, I will join in.” He seemed rather surprised; and was still more so when, after about an hour, I had quite a little sum to my credit! Mr. Brown then said that he was feeling dry, and could do with a little refreshment. “You don’t object to seeing me have a drink, do you?” he asked me; and when I said, “Not in the least; and if you have a glass of beer for me, I will be grateful,” he opened his eyes in astonishment, but went out to get me a glass. Then we chatted for a short time, until I said good night.

A few days later I met Olivia. With eyes beaming with delight, she told me that her husband had now quite a different opinion about priests-”never knew they were so human and cheerful.”

Some months elapsed, and although I saw Olivia and Freda regularly at Mass, I had little chance of speaking to them. Then one morning, after breakfast, Ella, my capable housekeeper, told me that Mrs. Brown was waiting to see me in the reception-room. I found Olivia out of breath and excited. She told me that her husband had been in bed for some time, suffering from ulcers on the feet, near the toes. Gangrene had set in on two toes of one foot, and specialists had advised that that foot (and probably the other) should be amputated. She added that her husband, a heavily built man, found the pain so intolerable that he spent day and night moaning, and, sometimes shouting. She said that she was worn out attending to him; he wanted only herself, and would not consent to engaging a nurse. “Last night,” she said, “I felt I could bear it no longer. As if in desperation of natural remedies, I said that we had tried everything, and nothing seemed to do any good. So I flung myself down by the side of the bed, saying, ‘Only God can help us; we can only rely on Him.’ After praying on my knees for a few minutes, I got up. My husband was much calmer. ‘Funny,’ he said, ‘but while you were praying, the pain seemed to ease off.’ I did not dare to reply, for I knew that if I said anything about religion he might go off into a temper. But, this morning, when I was tidying his bed, I ventured to remark: ‘So there is something in prayer, after all. You remember what you said last night?’ ‘Yes,’ he replied. ‘I have been thinking over things during the night and I want you to do something for me.’ ‘What is that?’ I asked. ‘I want you,’ he, said, ‘to go to the presbytery and ask Father to come and see me.’ I dared not question him, Father; but I have simply come to tell you what has happened. That’s all, Father.”

Naturally, I was at the house that morning. I found Mr. Brown in bed, looking very miserable and glum. “Well, old man,” I said, “what’s wrong with you?” “Ulcers near the toes, and gangrene,” he replied, adding, “They’re talking about taking my feet off.” “Never mind,” I said; “we will have to try some Lourdes water.” “Some what?” he asked, evidently under the impression that I was referring to some special lotion. “Lourdes water,” I repeated. “Never heard of it?” “No,” he replied. “Well,” said I, “you’re doing nothing in bed. I will go down to the presbytery and send you up one or two books about Lourdes. Read them. Tomorrow I will call and see you again, and bring some Lourdes water with me.”

When I went, the next day, I found Mr. Brown most interested in Lourdes. It was the first time he had heard about the famous shrine; and, although he was somewhat sceptical about the cures, he thought it was all very wonderful. Then I produced a little bottle of Lourdes water, telling him that I was going to ask his wife to put a few drops on his feet and on the bandages when the ulcers were being dressed.

When I called the next day, Olivia met me with a smile of delight. The Lourdes water had been used the previous evening, and that morning when the bandages were removed, it was found that the ulcers had disappeared. The doctor had called in, and he was absolutely astonished and mystified. I went upstairs. “Well, old man?” I said to Mr. Brown. He replied: “Father, I want to become a Catholic.” Olivia’s prayers had been answered.

I gave him a course of instructions. As .he had never been baptized, I told him that he was under no obligation to go to confession, at his reception into the Church. He made his profession of faith, and I baptized him; then I strongly urged him to go to confession and Holy Communion at least once a month.

Olivia was somewhat anxious. “Father,” she said, “somehow or other I can never see my husband going into the confessional.” “Once you thought he would never become a Catholic;” I rejoined. “Keep up your prayers, and trust in the grace of God.” Actually Mr. Brown never missed his monthly confession and Communion; and when I saw him regularly at Mass on Sundays, reading his prayer-book with rapt attention and devotion, I was much edified. This man of big physique, a prosperous man of business, had become childlike. His first care was to order a specially made statue of Our Lady of Lourdes to be brought to his home, to keep him in mind of the great debt of gratitude he owed to the Virgin Mother of Christ. He gave me a generous donation towards the building of a new church, which the parish needed; his wife and her step-sister gave a similar sum as a thank-offering. He made a will, leaving his shares in his business to his wife, then, in the event of her death, to Freda, after whose death the money was to be devoted to the building of a church in honour of Our Lady of Lourdes. (They had no children, to their great grief.)

He did not live many years after his conversion. He was fond of fishing; and one November day, when the air was damp and foggy, and he had already contracted a cold, he went off to enjoy his favourite sport, in spite of his wife’s advice that he ought to stay indoors. He contracted pneumonia. I administered the last sacraments, and he died on the day before Christmas Eve. May he rest in peace.

I called on Christmas night to comfort Olivia and Freda. They told me that when he was being laid out, they noticed how perfect were his feet and toes; there was not the slightest trace even of a scar where once there had been ugly ulcers and gangrene threatening to deprive him of his feet. Olivia’s grief was softened by the thought that during his last years her husband, once a pagan, had led the life of an exemplary Catholic, and had died a holy death.

The year following we went to Lourdes, to thank Our Lady for her kindness in performing the miracle. In the autumn of the same year I had to leave my beloved parish for work elsewhere.

Less than two years later, one beautiful day in July, I received an urgent letter from Olivia, begging me to come and see her that very day, if possible. She received me at the door with her kind smile. I thought she was looking well, but rather thinner. She took me into the garden. The roses were in full bloom, and filled the air with a fragrance that was exhilarating. Then she turned to me and said: “Father, I know you will think that I am stupid, when I tell you why I sent for you. Please do not laugh at me; but for days I have thought that my husband was calling for me. I have tried and tried to banish the idea as a delusion, but it keeps coming back. I felt I must tell somebody, and that is why I sent for you.” I asked her whether she was feeling ill. “No,” she answered, but with some hesitation. (Later I heard from Freda, that she was not well at the time.) “Perhaps you need a holiday,” I suggested. “Well, as a matter of fact,” she replied, “I am going off to the South Coast tomorrow with a friend of Freda’s, and Freda is joining us after a week. That is why I asked you to come today. But this is only our usual summer holiday.”

I told her not to be a little silly person; to rid herself of senseless ideas; to have a good fortnight’s holiday, and come back with a clear mind.

The holiday had only lasted two days when Freda received a telegram telling her that Olivia was ill. She was taken to a nursing home, and an operation was advised. This took place at four o’clock in the afternoon on the Saturday, but it was unsuccessful. She knew that she was dying. “My husband is calling me, and I am going,” she said. She was quite happy and contented. A priest was called in to administer the last sacraments. At ten o’clock Olivia was dead.

It was only after we had laid her to rest that we discovered that the prosperous business that her husband had built up was going to ruin. Had she lived much longer she would have found herself a penniless woman. God had called her at the right time. May she rest in peace.

THREE HAIL MARYS

SHE WAS INDEED a most devoted sister to him; although, I am sorry to say, her devotion to the Church could have been more fervent. She was often tempted by difficulties against the Faith, and, instead of dispelling them by prayer, she would try to work them out in a mind ill-equipped with theological learning. This, however, has little to do with the story.

Her brother (about thirty years of age) was stricken with tuberculosis. For months he had been at a sanatorium; but he had begged and pleaded so earnestly to her to take him out (he was a man who had had his own way in most things) that she had eventually consented. But there was the great problem of her earning enough salary to keep both of them, and to provide the little luxuries that he so often fancied. She rented an old-fashioned four- roomed cottage. She worked hard from morning till evening, but was able to pop into the cottage at dinner time to prepare a little nourishment for the invalid. But he was very lonely.

It was then that she came to see me. “Father,” she said, “you know that my brother is not a Catholic; indeed, he does not believe in God at all. But he does find the days so long. I wonder whether you would be so good as to call in now and again, and have a little chat with him; although I think you would be wasting your time if you talked to him about religion.”

“Very well,” I replied. “I think I could fit in a visit once a week or a fortnight.”

So I took to calling at the cottage. We spoke about a number of ordinary subjects-the weather, what was in the newspaper, his state of health, and so on. After some weeks he surprised me one day by asking me whether I had any books to lend him on religion. As we had never once discussed the question, I was delighted, and I promised that I would bring a few books with me next week.

This I did; but beyond describing the books to him, I did not talk about religion.

About a month later, he handed me back the books at the end of one of our chats. They had taught him, he said, to believe in God; and he could now see that suffering was not useless, but could have great value. He added, however, that that was as far as he was prepared to go; he had learnt to admire the Catholic Church through reading the books, but he could never become a Catholic. He objected especially to confession.

We left the matter at that, except that I got him to promise me that he would begin to pray to God.

Weeks passed by. Each time I visited him I said a few prayers with him at the end of our conversation. I could see that he was rapidly getting worse in health; his cough, especially, was distressing. Then one day, as I was leaving the presbytery to go to the cottage, my conscience became uneasy. Here was I, I thought, a Catholic priest, visiting a man whose life was quickly drawing to its close, a man who had never been baptized. Was I doing my duty of saving souls? Ought I not to try to get him to make an act of faith? Should I speak to him about Jesus Christ and the Catholic Church, and to make him desire baptism? Or would he think that I wanted to force him to become a Catholic; which might make him obstinate, and turn him even against saying the few prayers with me? I was perplexed and could not make up my mind. Then I decided to say three Hail Marys, and leave the matter entirely to Our Lady, trusting that she would guide me to do the right thing.

The cottage was some distance from the presbytery. On the way I was met by various persons, and my mind was taken up by one thought after another, with the result that when I got to the man’s bedside, I had completely forgotten the three Hail Marys. We discussed the usual topics, and I remember that we chatted longer than usual. I looked at my watch, which told me that if I didn’t hurry up I should be very late for lunch. (I was usually late!) So I knelt down to say the prayers and then hastened to depart. I had my hand on the handle of the bedroom door when he called me back. “Father,” he said, “I want to become a Catholic.” I expressed my delight; but said that, as I was already late, I would come again tomorrow to talk over the matter. “Tomorrow may be too late,” he replied. “I want to become a Catholic now.” “But,” I said, “that is impossible. I will have to give you a course of instructions, and then ask the bishop’s permission to receive you. It is a long business.” “But I know all I need to know, from those books you gave me to read,” he insisted. “Well, anyhow,” I replied, “I cannot discuss it now; I have an important engagement after lunch, and so I must be off.” “All right, Father,” he said; “but remember that if I have a hemorrhage tonight, and die, I asked you to baptize me, and you refused. I hope the thought won’t worry you for the rest of your life! Goodbye, Father.”

I looked at the thin and pinched face on the pillow, and the appealing eyes. I simply could not make up my mind. Then, as if impelled by sudden decision, I took the water bottle from the table beside the bed, got a towel, made him say the Our Father and Apostles’ Creed with me, and then baptized him. I told him that as baptism took away all sins, he was under no obligation to make a confession; but he insisted, declaring that he wanted to make a general confession of his whole life.

It was only when I was nearly at the presbytery, on my way home, that I remembered the three Hail Marys that I had said on setting out from my house that morning. Our Lady had saved another soul.

I gave the sick man a few instructions, during the next week, on the Blessed Sacrament. Then he received Viaticum with great devotion. He died about ten days later; and the last word I heard him utter was the holy name of Jesus. May he rest in peace.

THE NEW PRESBYTERY

LOOKING BACK, I hardly know how Father Charles ever lived in that presbytery, if, indeed, one can dignify the hovel by giving it that name. It was a four-roomed building. The front apartment served as a sacristy, confessional, priest’s study, dining-room and reception-room. On either side of the fireplace, in recesses, were old-fashioned cupboards; these contained the vestments and all the “treasures” and plate of the church; and, on the top of one of them, the vestments were laid out for Mass. In the fireplace itself, a wheezy little gas-fire chortled a spluttering tune, proud as Punch, both of its long years of service and of the honour of warming a priest’s room. Not much light came through the little panes of the worn-out old window; dusty and dirty ivy leaves poked their fingers towards the room, as if in derision at its meanness. The old iron knocker on the door had, I think, stood the strain of long years better than anything else inside or outside the dwelling.

The other room downstairs was the housekeeper’s sanctum. Here Nellie kept all her pots and pans, crockery and linen; here she cooked all the meals, here she washed the clothes. Here, when all was done at close of day, she would draw her rickety chair close to the fire, putting her feet on the tattered hearth-rug to protect them from the cold that danced up from the well-worn and red flagstones of the kitchen floor, while she set about darning Father’s socks, sewing buttons on garments, until yawning sent her to bed.

One crouched as one went up the squeaky stairs, for fear of knocking one’s head against the ceiling. When Father Charles first moved in, and was showing me round his abode, I peeped into the housekeeper’s bedroom at the top of the stairs, and noticed how the roof slanted down, until the ceiling threatened to find its support on the pillow. A tiny window jutted out into the slates, as if straining its neck to get a breath of fresh air outside the stuffy house. Inside the priest’s bedroom, a chest of drawers, a washing-table, a chair, and the bed itself, jostled one another in order to allow enough space for his reverence to get in and out of his bed. The boards of the floor creaked in their rheumaticky joints. Long, long ago they had passed their age of threescore and ten, so their painful groans were easily excused.

Yet happy were the years that Father Charles spent in that house. Like many another priest, he got so used to his surroundings that, in time, he scarcely noticed them. Besides, it was his first parish; indeed, he was the first resident priest there; and he had plenty of parochial work to do to take his mind off domestic inconveniences. Awkward situations would, however, arise, as, for example, when a parishioner called for an urgent and confidential piece of advice while Father was having a meal with a fellow-priest in the one room downstairs. Either the guest had to leave the table, and go out into the yard, there to kick his heels until the talk was over, or Father had to leave his guest at table and take the caller into the yard! Also the place was frightfully damp; and, try as one would not to see them, ugly patches on the distempered walls spelt out bronchitis, arthritis, sciatica, lumbago, and pneumonia, warning the resident, with an ugly grin, that he stayed in that house at his peril.

It was after a cup of tea, one day, that Father Charles told me the good news that the house standing by itself, round the corner, was going to be sold. It would make an ideal presbytery; it even boasted of a bathroom! The owner was quite willing to allow Father to buy the property. Everything seemed rosy. But then came the “snag.” For reasons into which I need not enter, the house was useless as a presbytery unless a strip of land which lay between it and the old presbytery could also be purchased. His Lordship the bishop, after duly considering the matter, wisely decided that the purchase of the house was out of the question until this strip was secured. But the owner of this piece of land was adamant, bigoted, and obstinate. Every reasonable offer that Father made to him was rejected with scorn; he simply did not want to sell, and would not. After repeated failures Father Charles was downcast, coming to the conclusion that all hope must be abandoned of acquiring a new home.

We were walking by the side of the hedge that separated the road from the defiant strip of land. Father Charles was usually of such a bright and cheerful disposition that it hurt me to see him downcast. Then I thought of a tiny statue of Our Lady that I had carried about in my coat pocket for many a day. I did not like the thought of parting with it, for I was much attached to it; but, on sudden impulse, I brought it out of my pocket, said a little prayer, and tossed it over the hedge into the field. “Cheer up,” I said. “You will get the land all right, Charles.”

I do not really know how it happened (I think the owner’s wife had something to do with it), but some days later the strip of land was Father’s. “Our Lady has got him to sign on the dotted line,” said Father to me in triumph.

About a month later, Father Charles was removing his bits of furniture from his old house to the new presbytery. His eyes were beaming with delight; so, methinks were the eyes of the Mother of priests, in heaven.

THE SOILED PICTURE .

PATCHES OF GREASY MUD, huddled together on the bluish- black bricks that formed the street pavement, looked like masses of thin jellyfish washed up upon a derelict jetty when the light of the few street lamps cast a glare upon them. Dismal houses of be-sooted brick reared themselves up from the inner edge of the pavement. Some of them put their feet out-one or two stone steps-to trip up the incautious wayfarer, as if to brighten the gloomy surroundings by a silly joke. But the houses in some of the streets boasted “front gardens,” four feet width of soil, whose flowers were bits of dirty paper, a few brick-ends, and broken pieces of roof slating, amongst which stunted growths of evergreens struggled manfully to get enough light and air to keep leaf and stem together.

Such was a district-by the canal-in my second parish. I wondered how I would ever get used to it! It was November when I set out on my first round of visiting. The weather was wet and foggy; it was a year of trade depression; men and youths slouched about the streets or sat listlessly at home, ninety-five per cent of them only too eager to get off the dole, and ready to do any kind of work; but, alas! it was not forthcoming: Rotting humanity. And when we look back on those years, and realize at what little cost those men might have been given employment, thereby perhaps preventing a war that is now costing more per day than all of them would have required in a whole month, during which they would have done most useful work and kept their homes in decency and comfort, we cannot but deplore the short-sightedness of the rulers of our country in those stupid days.

I really thought that I would never get used to the squalid and sordid surroundings. Sunday alone brought me any cheer; for the church was a fine building, the congregation was large and devout; and a former priest had taught the choir and servers to assist at the sacred functions with exact decorum. Little did I think then that when the ecclesiastical authorities would remove me to another parish, six years later, I should leave those people with sobbing in my throat. For they had really golden hearts. I grew to love them with an affection that I can only compare with that expressed by St Paul in some of his epistles. Good, kindly, homely, generous, loyal and active people. God bless them! They gave me their hearts, and I gave them mine!

But let us get back to the early days. I soon found that most front doors, in that particular district, were merely ornamental-unless the house was a back-to-back construction. Entrance was by the rear. The uninitiated who knocked at the front door was usually regarded as a nobody, not worth bothering about. If, like the man in the Gospel, he wearied the inmates by his persistent knocking, a voice from within might call out shrilly: “Who’s there?” A caller of little account would be bidden: “Go round the back.” On my first tour of that district I was a greenhorn in making my entrée into family circles, and would keep knocking at the front doors. When, however, I replied from without, “It is the priest,” there would follow a movement of household furniture, a pushing back of bolts (even a loosing of chains at times), and a turning of keys, as if I was about to be admitted to an inspection of the crown jewels. But I soon learnt the etiquette of “going round the back,” of keeping my head low to avoid the asperges of garments on the clothes-line, and of dodging mangles, pails, and other utensils for which accommodation could not be found within the walls of the dwellings.

Brick Lane was across the canal bridge, in the least respectable part of the district. Tales were told of earlier days when no policeman would venture down the Lane except in company with another member of the Force. Things were better in my days, probably because, as one old cheerful parishioner said to me: “They don’t know how to make beer, these days, Father. I remember the old days when beer was beer!” Yet I did not feel particularly happy as I walked down the Lane to find the addresses of three Catholic families that lived there. Surly looks came my way from women at doorways; while men and youths, leaning up against window-sills, scowled at me with a questioning, what-are-youdoing-down-here attitude.

Needless to-say, all three Catholic families had lapsed from the practice of religion. At one house was a man living with a woman who was not his wife; at another no one had been to church for years; and at the third was a hard-faced widow, who kept me at the door and was loath to tell me a single thing about herself. A sardonic grin was the only answer I could get to my enquiry as to whether she ever came to church. I left Brick Lane feeling that only a miracle could make these people return to the sacraments.

Late one night, two days before the first Christmas I spent in that parish, a Protestant woman called at the presbytery and left a message that the widow in Brick Lane was “very bad” and “wanted Father to call.” There was a thick fog outside, and it was bitterly cold besides. I was feeling particularly tired; and the last place in the world I would have chosen to go to that night was the district over the canal bridge. However, there was nothing for it. I got out the holy oils and my sick-call case, buttoned my coat tightly under my chin, and set out alone-the Protestant woman had disappeared.

When I got to 33 Brick Lane the door was ajar. I knocked; and after a “Who’s there?” the widow herself came shuffling through the room to the door. “Come in, Father,” she muttered. I followed her in, saying to myself that there was nothing wrong with the old hag at all. (I was glad I had not brought the Blessed Sacrament with me.) “But I thought I should find you in bed-ill-dying,” I stammered out. “What do you mean by bringing me out, all this way, on a night like this?” I asked, as the blood began to boil in my veins “I’ve had nothing from Albert [her ne’er-do-well son] for the last fortnight,” she said, adding: “I’ve only got my pension. What sort of a Christmas do you think we’m goin’ to have on that, Father?” “But why did you send that woman with a message that you were very ill?” I asked, my temper getting the better of me. “Well, you might not have come all this way, elsewise,” she naively replied.

Indignantly I brought some silver out of my pocket and flung it down on the table. “You’m a fine gentleman, Father,” she said with a grin.

I could make no further comment; words simply would not come. I picked up my hat from the table, and was going to leave, without saying “Good night,” when my eyes fell on a dirty soiled picture of Our Lady, half hidden behind a motley collection of odds and ends on a shelf, in a corner of the room. The picture seemed to wink at me! Of course, it didn’t do so; it was pure imagination on my part. But somehow or other, Our Lady seemed to be enjoying the joke! Certainly I had a kind of assurance that Our Lady would look after the old hag, and that all would be well with her soul at the end.

I went out into the fog and the cold, and trudged back to the presbytery with heavy feet, a lighter purse, but a much lighter heart. “All would be well at the end.”

A few years later, my duties included an occasional visit to the Home of the Little Sisters of the Poor, those angels on earth who look after those old people whom nobody else in the world wants to look after. There, to my surprise, I found the old widow from Brick Lane. How she had got there, goodness only knows. I spoke to the good Mother about her, and learnt that she had been to Holy Communion (possibly her first), and was very happy in the Home, saying her prayers and eagerly learning her forgotten religion.

She was not there for long. She fell ill; received the Last Sacraments with devotion, and died in St Joseph’s Home.

The dirty picture had told me right; all was well with her soul at the end! May she rest in peace. March, 1943

My Faith And I

BY DANIEL A. LORD, S.J

INDEX

IT was my great good fortune to be born into the Catholic Church. I say it was my great good fortune; for, though I admire from my heart the exuberant enthusiasm of converts and envy them the freshness of the unexplored vistas opening before them, I often wonder if I should have had the courage to climb the steep, rough road by which most of them have mounted to the Faith. Faith was a gift to me, the first of many, and the mother of all.

Yet, Catholic born, I also had the good fortune to spring from a paternal line solidly Protestant. I call this good fortune, for it has given me something of the viewpoint of a convert. My father’s father, standing in his Presbyterian pulpit, Bible in hand, preaching the stern faith of the Dutch Reformed Church, remains a vivid memory of my early childhood, as the charm and graciousness of his delightful personality, the grand humanness of his wit, and his comradeship with a youngster just approaching his sixth birthday have been through the years a warm and carefully tended flame at which I often hold my hands.

The memory of my father’s gradual finding of the Faith (first in my mother’s unanswerable example, then in the Requiem Mass of her Irish and devout mother, then in the persuasive logic of a great Paulist, and, finally, at the fatherly hands of a dear old parish priest) dates from my College days.

And, though I regret that my English forebears gave up their Faith, I am glad that Protestantism touched me closely enough to make me willing to try to understand it and its members, and perhaps be a little more tolerant of those not blessed, as I have been, with the white, shining, beautiful light that is the Catholic Faith.

ONE STEP AWAY

For, had it been otherwise, I might have turned an angry shoulder to those less fortunate than I and been impatient that the clear light of Catholic truth failed to pierce their souls. As it is, I remember that I am one short step away from the Presbyterianism of my father’s fathers; a Catholic, because it was God’s great gift to me from my mother’s ancestors, who clung to the Faith in the cabins and under the hedges of Ireland.

So, though I am a Catholic born, I have toward my Faith something of the freshness of a convert’s viewpoint, and some appreciation of the heroism with which people clamber back into the great, steady Barque of Peter from the little ships set adrift during the Reformation.

And in my heart I pray that the deep peace of faith and the calm certitude that comes with Catholic truth may enter the hearts of those outside the Catholic Church. Their creed, which once held much that was Catholic, has slipped far away from the creed of my minister grandsire, who held his Bible like a battle-standard, above his congregation and demanded of them no parley with the world that crucified the Saviour, but an unquestioning faith in Jesus Christ and loyalty to His revealed word.

DEARER WITH YEARS

Though my Faith was a gift, unmerited and unsought, it has come with years to be an increasingly dear possession, the firm core around which the certainties of life have crystallised. Its flame has risen with ever-brightening intensity. From that Faith have come all other good things of soul, and, in a very real sense, of mind and body.

Once again, I am deeply fortunate. Others with the same gift have seen the hard pressure of immediate realities, the wearisome struggle for bread and bed, the irritating rub of unpleasant men and uncongenial surroundings, a life too preoccupied or harassed for thought or study or reading, wear down their faith and dull the warmth and brightness of its flame. Over the light of Faith rough hands have been placed with brutal insistence, snuffing out the flame so hard to rekindle.

But my faith burned on. There were moments when a very hurricane of doubt tossed the flame perilously. There were the terrified, questioning days when, as a young mars still in college, I reached out for the thrill of a dangerous book or the fascinating peril of an argument for which I knew no answer. Arguments, indeed, have been flung against my Faith for which during long years I continued to see no answer; but in the end, if the answer was slow in coming, I saw the argument crumble of its own dead weight to dust.

Once, after too violent a flirtation with the blatant unbelief that saturated parts of the literature of the first decade of the century, I wondered if I were still a Catholic; and the moment of questioning was followed almost immediately by the high call to the religious life. More than merely faith had remained.

UNDER FIRE

This is not an autobiography; nor is it a spiritual Odyssey. It is just a quiet, heartfelt tribute to my Church and its Faith, and an acknowledgment of all that it has meant to me, and means to me more than ever today.

For, living in a world where intellectual doubt rides a seemingly triumphant chariot, drawn by ramping horses of passion, inclination, thoughtlessness, resentment of authority, I see my Church peppered (there is no more dignified word) by the toy artillery of unbelief. The shells which that artillery throws fall harmless before the impregnable Church; but the noise of the explosive that fires them is loud and violent.

In my dealing with the young people among whom lies my happy work, I must watch the troubled look that comes into the eyes of a few of them when a new book announces, with all the shyness of a cock on a dunghill, the swift demise of the Catholic Church, or when the headlines of the daily paper run black with her obituary notices, as some rebellious Catholic land sells out for the moment to Communists or anti-clericals or the Grand Orient.

I must occasionally see fine young fellows sadly leaving a Faith they have never really understood, because of some argument they have not begun to grasp, the answer to which is perhaps too profound and deeply beautiful to be fathomed by their, as yet, immature minds.

I must see young women, whom I have watched taking honours at their colleges, turn regretfully from the Catholic Church because its stern morality stands between them and a passing fashion in vice which propaganda and literature have called virtue or necessity or the advancement of the human species; and all the while the great Catholic Church has been placing its stern morality, not between these young women and their happiness and advancement, but between them and the wolves of the world, white-fanged and bloody-jawed, whose sole and rotten purpose is to tear to shreds the virtue of womanhood, modelled on the immaculate Mother of God. History, long after these young women are dead, will relate how the Catholic Church fought for homes, inviolate virtue, the rights of unborn children, the decencies of life, and for that purity of virgins and mothers by which the world rises above the level of its own bestial desires.

I have lived to see the Church I love attacked by laughter and ridicule, by specious science and the most arrant lies, by nickel pamphlets and scholarly-looking tomes, by fallen Catholics who thought its truth unsound after they had found its Commandments difficult, and by brilliant cynics, whose cleverness against the Church is easier because they know nothing of its ideals, its true history, its dogma, and its white-hot love of God and men. Politics make strange bed-fellows but they are perfectly matched compared with those who are united only by their hatred of the Catholic Church.

This booklet, then, is written as it would be written to a very dear son or daughter who said: “But what has the Church really meant to you? Why do you say you love your Faith? What will it give to me?” And though it would take volumes to answer even a fraction of that, matching my words against the swift flow of young life and knowing that, like Rosalind, they would in one word be told of the fullness of love, I answer them thus:

Promise and Prophecy

Once in a not-too-distant past the most brilliant and commanding Figure in all history stood among a little group of inadequates. Deliberately He seems to have chosen inadequates, so that the prophecy and promise He was about to make might be the more astounding in its fulfilment.

“Thou art Peter,” He said, quietly, “and upon this rock I shall build My Church, and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it.”

And then, in the Magna Charta of Catholicity He said to that ragged group, whose speech was rough as the tempests into which they had shouted, and whose hands, newly consecrated for sacrament and mystery and blessing, were tough and callous from the ropes and oars of fishermen’s craft: “Who heareth you heareth Me; and who despiseth you despiseth Me.”

With these words my Church was born.

To Peter, first of the Popes, was the promise given; he, the hesitant, bragging betrayer of his Master, was still the rock against which hell itself would beat in vain; and henceforth his words were the words of the most marvellous Person of all time; his voice, even when it spoke in faulty Greek, was the voice of Jesus Christ.

Not to Luther or Calvin or John Knox or Mrs. Eddy, born long centuries afterwards, were these words spoken; not to Voltaire or Darwin or Huxley or Karl Marx or the confessedly-infallible H. G. Wells; not to any of the thousand heresiarchs who rose to claim divine guidance and inspiration and more than a divine knowledge of things of earth and things of eternity. Though they thundered their half-truths and queer distortions and pseudo-science in voices that outshouted and drowned the voice of Papal pronouncements, the promise and prophecy was not for them.

DYING THUNDERS

So their futile thunder sank to a faint echo and died away behind the everlasting hills. Their crushing doctrines were pulverised under the slow weight of the years, or remained, as the pyramids remain, for history to marvel at their mighty uselessness.

Thus perished the doctrines of Arius that once threatened to capture the Christian world. “Faith without works,” on which Protestantism based its first spirited assault against the Church, reversed itself and became the modern Protestant dogma of “works without faith,” “It doesn’t matter what you believe, provided you do right.” Thus perished utterly the deism that Voltaire offered the world to replace this “infamous thing,” the Church; and the world has lived to see Darwin’s triumphant Natural Selection pushed aside, even by the most enthusiastic supporters of evolution.

But all the while the voice of the white shepherd of Christendom keeps repeating the unchanged words of Christ, in the very voice and accents of Christ; and when today the Pope, Peter’s successor, the head of my Church, speaks, the world, willing or unwilling, listens. He alone dares to claim the infallible authority of the Divine Teacher.

Not one of that long list of heretics but would have given his soul for the calm authority that rings in the voice of the least prepossessing successor of St. Peter. They know that their voices are the voices of men, however clever or glib or persuasive or eloquent. His voice is the voice of Him Who said: “Who heareth you heareth Me.”

FIRM

Only the man who knows nothing of history trembles as a new wave breaks against the rock of Peter. Once the assault of error troubled me. I have studied history to reassuring purpose. For Christ’s prophecy has been proved in every century since the day of its utterance. Each new massed attack is just the latest of that unending series of breakers that have arisen, smashed with apparently destructive violence against the rock, and then, in curling eddies and froth, slunk back, to be swallowed up in an oblivious ocean.

So the resistless Roman Empire flung itself against the infant Church and broke itself in twain. So came the matchless armies of Arianism that pushed a Pope from his throne. So marched the lances of Islam that pierced the heart of Christian Europe. So came the Albigenses (almost forgotten name for a completely forgotten mass of error). So came the petty princes of Germany and the warlords of England and the Covenanters of Scotland, leagured to drive the “Scarlet Woman” from her seven hills. So, with new weapons and a subtler sort of warfare came the Encyclopedists of France and the materialists of the last “sixties and “seventies, only to be forgotten within their own generation.

UNBROKEN STILL

So today comes the Soviet, consecrated by a vow to the “god out of a machine” that has supplanted the true God, to blot Faith from the earth. So, too, come the forces of modern unbelief, working in press and classroom, in theatre and laboratory, and on news-stand, to level the citadel of the Church and sow salt within its fields.

But the Rock stands; the waves recede and history, with difficulty, finds their traces in the shifting sands of the beach; or, if you prefer less figure and more fact, I”11 shift position to you. Suppose you tell me what the beliefs of Arius were or why the Stoics of Rome fought the Church. Recount the chief beliefs of the Albigenses, and show me that infant damnation, the slave will, the Bible as the sole rule of Faith, the supremacy of princes over the Church are still Protestant doctrines. These doctrines and a thousand others are rolled back and gone forever from the memory of all but scholars.

The Rock remains.

So when each new doubt or form of tin-belief shouts out its half-truth or new-found error, or digs up and resuscitates some buried heresy (as Modernism did), we, who know something of how history has been the fulfilment of Christ’s prophecy, have no fear. History early taught me that much. The Church that speaks with the voice of Christ has taught truth for twenty centuries without one mistake, without one necessity for admitting an error, without one withdrawal from a position firmly taken, without a single false teaching to which the accusing finger of its enemies can point in scorn.

NEVER WRONG

Show me one other institution in the world that has done the same and I will pay it the homage of my soul. Judaism is no longer the religion of Moses or of the Palestine of Christ’s period. Read the Jewish Encyclopaedia and you will wonder if the Jews of Talmudic days would recognise their kinship with their modern, freethinking, sceptical successors. Lutheranism is not the faith that Luther founded, nor is the creed of Episcopalianism any longer that of the church of Henry Tudor and Elizabeth.

Why, the scientific theories of the minute, where they are at odds with Catholic Faith, are no more the scientific theories that attacked the Church in the last quarter of the last century than they are the science of Egyptian magicians and Assyrian astrologers.

To my astonishment, I learned that of the dogmas on which other churches were founded scarcely one survives in them today. Most of the major scientific hypotheses announced a half-century ago are today supplanted by new theories as violently and infallibly maintained.

And my Church goes on, quietly repeating the words of Christ, teaching without the need of denying its own teaching, facing each new problem with absolute surety. My Faith is built upon a Rock and upon the unfailing promise of Jesus Christ.

MOTHER OF EUROPE

History has been used relentlessly against the Catholic Church, but it has been history written, not with an eye to truth, but with an eye to the harm that could be done Catholicity. I know that my Church is the mother and maker of modern civilisation Every great nation of modern Europe is its child. For centuries France boasted herself the Eldest Daughter of the Church. England, when Augustine came with the Faith to unite warring kingdoms into the eventual mistress of the sea, was proud to be called Mary’s Dower. The scattered forest tribes of Germany were joined by the Faith into the empire which regarded itself as the temporal counterpart of the Papacy. Italy, Spain, Poland, the Scandinavian kingdoms that have forgotten their mother (read Sigrid Undset for the truth of this); Scotland, martyred Ireland, are all her children.

The Reformers came to find a finished, rounded, thoroughly organised Europe, complete in all essentials, as it has continued to our era. They destroyed only the binding principle of Faith and a common (Latin) language, and the heartsatisfying liturgy that knit together nations into the family of Christendom. They set nation against nation in the bitterest of enmities, added hatred of other nations to the already-existing love of one’s own land, and sowed the seeds of the World War and the more tragic war that is now being waged.

Proudly I read the history of the Catholic Church. My Church beat a rotting paganism by the purity of martyrs and virgins, who gained their purity from the same Eucharist that is mine. My Faith was the one light that shone in the welter of blood and rapine when the mercenaries of Rome cracked under the pressure of Teutonic invaders; and that Faith was the force that civilised the intruders and formed them into Christian people and European nations. My Faith led the centuries of warfare from Tours to Vienna, by which Europe was saved from Saracen and Turk. My Church was mother of the world’s greatest universities, liberator of the slave, patron of the fine arts, first founder of hospitals and charitable institutions.

DEMOCRACY

Within it was the truest democracy, for tyrants knew that its churchmen, like Thomas a”Becket, were willing to die for the rights of the people, as her Bishops were ready to beard a savage John and snatch from him the Magna Charta.

More than that, within the Church, long before the days of “From Log Cabin to White House,” the son of a ploughman might aspire to sainthood upon God’s altars, and a peasant lad might become Chancellor of a kingdom or mount the Papal throne, that topped the other thrones of Europe.

TRUE HISTORY

This is, I am very well aware, not the history of the Church, as told, with cool disregard of facts, ever since the Protestant revolt, by those who hated the Church. But it is the history which Walter Scott recovered when he first opened the eyes of England to the glorious vitality of the Middle Ages and fathered, himself unconscious of the fact, the Catholic revival. It is the true history that led Sigrid Undset back into the Church, whose early history in Norway her father had thoroughly explored. It is the reason why historians, in steadily-increasing numbers, realising the indisputable evidence of Catholic influence in the Middle Ages, are coming into the Catholic Church as enthusiastic converts.

The systematic lies of three hundred years and more were needed to blind readers and students to the fact that the Catholic Church was, and is, the greatest mother in the world.

History, as I came to see it, is beautiful and significant, and begets in me a just pride as I realise that, compared with my Church, all other churches, and, for that matter, all the nations of the earth, are parvenus, and that membership in the Catholic Church gives me kinship with the world’s greatest men and women.

GLORIOUS KINFOLK

All the saints are my brothers and sisters, born of that same great mother. For all the saints were Catholic. Four great names stand out in the history of the Church of England, and their bearers watch in graven dignity above the door of England’s greatest Cathedral: Augustine, Dunstan, a”Becket, and Cranmer. Of the four, three are saints and Catholic. The fourth is the contemptible Cranmer, and the Anglican Church may claim him if it will.

From the days of the Reformation no saint has been added to the calendar of saints which some Protestant sects took over from the Catholic Church, while the ranks of Catholic sainthood grow with the years. From Peter to the Little Flower and the Cure d”Ars the saints are ours; and each Catholic can say personally: “They are mine.” The agnostic leaders of modern France raise their silk hats to honour as their nation’s heroes two Catholic saints, Joan of Arc and Louis the Crusader

There have been, of course, noble and splendid men and women not of the Catholic Faith, who have been such true lovers of God and their fellow men as Wesley and Keble, Florence Nightingale and Clara Barton. But the Catholic Church, and the Catholic Church alone, has been, and dares claim to be, the Mother of Saints.

SONS OF THE CHURCH

Names are important to us only because we, who live surrounded by men and women not of our Faith, sometimes come to wonder if the world’s great are consistently non-Catholic. In contrast with the immediate present, history, as it lists its greatest, gives the emphatic Impression of Catholic dominance. The names in “Who’s Who in America” may be predominantly of other faiths; Catholics dominate the “Who’s Who” of world history.

For fifteen hundred years there was scarcely a great name written across the records of European achievement in any line but that name was Catholic. From the first pagan philosophers converted to the Faith, from Augustine and the great doctors of the Church down to Dean Colet and Thomas More, and the critical, but finally faithful, Erasmus, scholarship was Catholic. The great rulers and lawmakers and fashioners of modern civilisation were Catholic.

The marching armies of Europe were led by Catholic heroes: Constantine, opening Rome to the Faith; Charles Martel, halting the progress of Mohammedanism; Bayard, the whitest of the knights; Richard the Lionhearted; and happy, gallant Henry V., chiefest of England’s heroes; the Crusaders, who died for an ideal that ultimately saved Europe’s civilisation.

Catalogues make dull reading, so I only gesture toward the great discoverers and explorers who opened up a new world and carried the Cross with them; the pioneers who wrote the Litany of Saints in the names of American cities; the painters, whose work filled first Catholic cathedrals and now fill the museums of the civilised art world; the architects, whose names are buried in a forgotten past, but whose genius rises in the immortal stone of mankind’s grandest buildings; Caxton, inventor of the printing press; Chaucer, happy sire of English literature; Dante, greatest name among the poets; Cervantes, father of the modern novel; Moliere, founder of modern drama; Aquinas, from whose stupendous mind was born the only philosophy by which a civilisation has ever lived; Roger Bacon, from whom all modern science takes its rise.

I gesture and pass on. There they stand, those magnificent brothers of mine, with successors in every generation; the gallant, glorious gallery of the Church’s sons and daughters; greatest in mind, in ideal, in aspiration, and in achievement; and Foch, Mercier, Pasteur, Mendel, Millet, Papini, Paderewski are of their line.

TODAY

But, as I began to hint, we cannot live in history any more than a slightly tarnished gentleman can live in the golden, if vanished, traditions of his broken family or his fallen race. What does my Faith mean today? After all, it is less important to us of the present (though vastly reassuring) to know that from Catholic hands the Reformers took the printing press, which they used against the Faith they had abandoned, than to know what the Catholic books of the present coming from that same printing press offer of truth and guidance and beauty to today’s questioning humanity. Proud as we are of the great cathedrals with which the Church filled Europe, we are far prouder of what goes on day by day within even the smallest and plainest of our Catholic churches.

And there I find the first deep personal satisfaction derived from my Faith. Not pride of history, but gratitude for intimate service, dilates my heart. My Church has understood me, served me, tended me, made me in baptism the adopted child of God, given me in Holy Communion the living friendship of the Saviour, turned my body through confirmation into the temple of the Holy Ghost, blessed every significant action of my life, and hastened to me, in every dread or need or pressing danger or sharp joy, with help and grace, entrusted to her hands by a tender and understanding Founder.

My Church, grand enough to be mother of the nations, is tender enough to be mother of the most insignificant man. As if the world were not its province, my Church has brooded with a mother’s gentleness over me. The Catholic Church is as great as the universe; but its essential life can be lived in the sanctuary of my soul.

FOR EVERY LIFE

For my Church, whatever any man or woman may think of its truth, shows the deepest possible knowledge of the human heart and its desires and needs. It is simple; it is elaborate; it reaches directly the heart of the ignorant; it challenges the genius of the scholar.

I have heard flung as an argument against my Church that it lacks the simplicity of Christ. What nonsense! Fundamentally, Catholic worship is utterly simple, as simple as bread and wine offered on a table of stone are simple, simple as the pouring of water on the head of an infant, or the lifted hand of a priest absolving with the sign of the Cross.

It is simple as Christ was simple, and the daily needs of men are simple -prayer to begin the day; a blessing for son and daughter on the morning of their wedding; the quick response of the priest to the call of the sickbed, bearing the Bread that is the Body of the Lord; simple as a bell struck or a voice raised in song, or a wooden cross lifted in admonition to sorrow, or the final reassuring absolution of the dead; so simple that it charms a child, awakens confidence in a beggar, calms the dying, stirs the admiration of the truly great.

Fundamentally, too, it is as complete and satisfying as the comprehending heart of the Saviour could make it. There is no significant action from birth to death that is not consecrated by a Sacrament or marked with a special blessing.

Religion for us Catholics is not an affair to be put on with the frock coat of a Sunday morning. It goes with us into the most intimate details of life. It holds out its arms to the newborn child. It follows the bodies of the dear dead and blesses even the blanket of earth that rests upon them. My Church has reassuringly paced at my side through life.

We miss the whole point if we overlook the utter simplicity of Mass and baptism and confession. They are as truly all they claim to be when enacted by a priest in tattered vestments on a battlefield or on the deck of a sinking vessel as they are in the greatest cathedral when a Cardinal pontificates amid earth’s imitation of the Church Triumphant

GLORY

For precisely in the spirit of this soaring imitation has the Catholic Church showed its flashing understanding of the human heart. Simplicity is not enough; a man must worship grandly. The home of the Catholic may be a poor little cottage; he adores God amid the splendours of earth. His weekday may be spent in some trivial, tiresome work; on Sundays and the great feasts he copies for a moment the dignity and splendour with which the seraphim adore their God.

Beauty in my Church’s hands has become a radiant act of faith. Believing, first of all, that the fines t of art is none too good for the world’s Creator, the Church has built into her ritual all that is glorious in music, poetry, painting, architecture, together with dignity of movement, grace of posture, significance of symbolism, even the precious delight (so dear to the Protestant novelist) of perfumed incense. All this is simply the gratification of mankind’s most natural impulse.-the impulse to give back the best to the Best, the finest of His creatures to the Creator of them all.

But beyond that the Church feels that men and women, at the moment of adoration, need be freed from their senseridden attachment to the workaday world. So it elevates every one of their senses, raises the whole man out of himself, gives him exquisite music, and perfect symbols that promote his attention to the mystic action that goes forward at the altar.

The bare and deliberate ugliness of the Puritan meeting house failed to stand the test of time. Man naturally hated it and ultimately abandoned it. To-day on River-side-drive and Hollywood-boulevard Protestantism builds its best churches in perfect replica of Catholic styles, and its basically colourless ceremonial (from which, once on a time, even the organ was barred as the devil’s whistle) takes on more and more of the movement and richness and splendour that is essentially human and, in Catholic usage, definitely divine.

My Church’s children need not go to the modem motion-picture palaces to find the beauty and splendour and art and resonance of organ tone in which the heart of man exults.

CHRIST’S WORK

All this is infinitely dear to the Catholic who understands the great realities that are encrusted with the beauty of art and ritual. He glories in the magnificent ceremonial that is man’s tribute to God during the course of a Eucharistic Congress. But he is equally content to kneel in a little side chapel where a priest is offering up the Sacrifice of Calvary and the repetition of the Last Supper, in simplicity and prayerful quiet. For, beneath the art, every Catholic sees, as I have seen a thousand times, the unending repetition by the Church of just what Christ Himself did and ordered to be done till the end of time.

The Last Supper, each important word of which, in the Gospel tongue, had a sacrificial significance, is the Eucharistic Sacrifice of Calvary, repeated endlessly in the Mass. I see in Christ the priest according to the order of Melchisedec offering bread and wine, as the prophecy foretold, from the rising of the sun to the going down thereof. I have learned with deeper study that the Mass offered in each parish church is essentially the same Mass that was offered in the presence of departing Crusaders centuries before the Reformation smashed the altar of Sacrifice, the same Mass of which Augustine and Gregory wrote so beautifully, the very Mass that was said upon the tombs of the martyrs when the Church of the first centuries hid itself away under the streets of Rome.

“Whose sins you shall forgive, they are forgiven them,” Christ said to His Apostles, and in the quiet confessional the forgiveness of sins goes on endlessly. I have felt Christ’s pardon as truly as did Peter or Magdalen or the stubborn Thomas.

“Preach the Gospel,” He commanded, and from Catholic pulpits, sometimes eloquently, sometimes stammer ingly, sometimes with power, and sometimes with defective speech, I have heard on each successive Sunday the same doctrines that Jesus Christ taught the eager multitudes, not the particular fancies of the preacher nor the transient interests of the day. Christ’s words, not the fleeting concern of the tabloids, are the text of Catholic sermons; and since first I mounted the pulpit in priestly state, I dared say only what I felt He would say. I was His unworthy mouthpiece to the multitudes.

FOR HUMANITY

And because He loved the poor and the weak, and with untiring gentleness tended the sick, the Church builds its hospitals, orphanages, homes for the aged, refuges.

The modern mind prides itself on applying rigidly at least one principle of Jesus Christ: “By their fruits you shall know them.” It would do well to apply that principle to the one Church that gathers the little ones of Christ at the knees of its teaching Sisterhoods for prayer, religious instruction, and the careful inculcation of the Beatitudes and the Commandments.

For my Church opens the welcoming doors of its hospitals to Christ’s sick, shelters the forsaken orphan from the cold- hearted in-humanity of men, shields the Magdalen from the men who first pushed her into the gutter and then would stone her, closes the eyes of the forsaken aged in their last sleep.

I hear much talk nowadays that is shudderingly at odds with the charity of Christ. There is talk of lethal chambers, where unprofitable members of society will be painlessly killed. A savage euthanasia is suggested for the helpless old. Sterilisation of the insane and mutilation of the criminal is talked of in high courts. The doors of life are ruthlessly shut in the face of babies in an age that prides itself on making life eminently worth living.

The doctrineof the “survival of the fittest,” loudly praised in my youth, has not had a pleasant sound in the ears of the frightened weak and sick and poor. The soft footfall of a Catholic Sister of Charity has come with reassuring gentleness. For, in the face of this thoroughly pagan inhumanity that is sweeping the world, those Sisters come, mercy and love as their twin angels. The Church recruits them in increasing numbers and they selflessly and tirelessly do Christ’s work among the world’s outcasts and f forsaken. They repeat in every generation the moral miracle of Christ’s charity arid boundless love; and any seeing man may watch the miracle at work. As for myself, no one will ever know what the mere presence of the Sisters in my Church has meant to my faith.

AUTHORITY-MAD

Once on a time in my life I faced the terrific assurance with, which unbelief proposed its arguments, and I felt more than a little frightened in my heart. I believed at that time that the Catholic Church rested solely on authority, and that unbelief had a monopoly of cold reason and logic and the scientific facts.

I have grown much wiser with the years. I have lived, during a not over -long life, to see the unbelieving world go mad about authority, quoting from half-understood scientists, from the latest books on psychology or history or biology, the transiently interesting findings of higher critics, as if they were as certain as that two and two make four. Darwin and Dewey and Freud and Harnack and even (God save the mark) Robinson and Durant and Wells, were mentioned with a reverence with which few Catholics would think of quoting Thomas Aquinas or Augustine or the Encyclicals of Leo XIII, or Pius XI.

The world that once renounced authority has, by one of its amusing back flops, gone authority-mad, and logic, reasoning, and the cold weighing of facts and their consequences have sought refuge, I verily believe, in the arms of Catholic learning and scholarship.

MY FAITH IS REASONABLE

Sometimes, in the face of parrot-like repetitions of the same names and the same authorities, I wonder if the only organisation in the world using its own head isn’t the Catholic Church. From the Sunday supplements, with their articles about what some obscure professor thinks of some other professor’s discovery of the missing link, to the last Ph.D. thesis, packed with quotations from a hundred different authorities (and scholarship often seems measured in terms of footnotes), authority rules the world.

Of course, this is a much-ramified subject. I can give only the very briefest sketch of what I have learned of the reasonable logic and respect for facts that I have found in my Faith. I can do no more than indicate the solid foundation of history and science and reason on which it tests. But it is important to know that, before the Catholic scholar begins the superstructure which rises into the presence of God, he has built firmly on philosophy and science and a love of commonsense. Each priest, as he mounts to the priesthood, does so on a solid roadway of proven truth.

Catholic Faith, I have found, is considerably more than just faith. The theology that explains it is a highly developed and specialised science. It has as its associate the only logical and reasonable philosophy by which a man can think and live and act. It would take volumes to illustrate all this, as it has taken years of study and training to demonstrate it to my none-too-docile mind.

At the very core of Catholic Faith, quite unknown and hence unappreciated and unaccounted for even by the welleducated nonCatholic, is the philosophy of Thomas of Aquin. Praising that philosophy is like commending Shakespeare’s poetry. Will Durant regretfully-yes, he uses the word himself- included Aquinas among his world’s great thinkers. Perhaps he actually ranks first.

WEIGH AND TEST

With a clear grasp of Plato and Aristotle and the best of his predecessors, Aquinas weighs all the facts that precede and underlie faith. Calmly he asks if there is a God, and whether it is possible to prove the existence of any sort of Supreme Being. Before be speaks of saving souls, he goes about investigating if there are souls to save. There is little use of talking of an after life unless we are sure of immortality. “Are we?” he asks. The story of Christ is, basically, history; but Aquinas asks whether history is credible at all, and what right the Gospels have to claim to be true history.

That method set the standard of the approach which every really educated Catholic makes to his Faith. To the laborious and thoroughly-sifted arguments of Aquinas Catholic scholarship has added a constant investigation of the late findings of science and history and Biblical research; a knowledge of what is current in scientific thought that is in striking contrast with science’s almost complete ignorance of what makes up the great proved structure of Catholic truth.

Following the footsteps of Aquinas, the educated Catholic investigates what men have said for and against God’s existence, why and with what reason psychologists of a sort have denied the fact of human souls, what proofs have been offered against the historic value of the Gospel according to St. John. Catholics give their adversaries every chance to say their say. Every thesis as Catholic philosophy and theology presents every important difficulty or argument against its truth.

I feel absolutely safe in wagering that a thoroughly educated priest or a really—trained Catholic layman knows ten times as much about any form of Protestantism or modern scientific thought as the average Protestant scholar or scientist knows about Catholicity. I”11 go better than that. I know from my own conversations that I have been better acquainted with the doctrines once held by Protestantism than ministers of the very faith we were discussing.

Protestantism begins by accepting a Book. Catholicity begins by proving there is a God capable of giving mankind such a Book. Unbelieving science begins by the dogma that theology is all stuff and nonsense, and that the supernatural cannot be proved. Catholic theology begins by accepting the proved facts of science and examining whether they do not (as they do) fit in with the facts of religion.

MAD ADVERSARIES

There is no other philosophy that is as reasonable or as hospitable to new discoveries as Catholic philosophy. Protestantism and the modern world have given up this great and irrefutable body of truth, not because it is unsound philosophy, but because it is Catholic.

And, as the educated Catholic goes on with his studies, he finds himself faced, as I was faced, with a perplexing and almost comic situation. No two of his opponents agree. He finds that some say there is no God and others that there is nothing else but God; some that there are no souls, and others that there are no bodies; that there is no immortality, and that you can talk to a spirit through a medium’s flying trumpet; that Jesus was a myth, and the greatest of men, a megalomaniac, and the sanest of teachers, who never said He was God and whose claim to be God proves Him insane; that all religions are equally good, and that all are equally stupid and foolish; that all ritual was originally sun worship or nature worship or phallic worship; that at the beginning all men believed in one God, and that no man believed in one God; that all philosophies are equally true, because what we believe to be true is true, and that all philosophies are equally false because we never can know anything about anything anyhow! Thank God for my Catholic sense of humour!

ONE AGAINST THE WORLD

For what a mad kaleidoscope it is! While my Catholic philosophy, the rational basis of my faith, is sound and dear and one, I find that I am opposed, not by one consistent series of belief, but by a thousand dissonant, divergent, contradictory, topsy-turvy theories,as changeable as the style in women’s footwear and just a shade less practical and durable.

That, I must admit, was one of the great surprises of my life. It still is. The more I see of modern thinkers the more I know they agree in nothing except the one stridently proclaimed belief that the Catholic Church is wrong; and, believe me, as I look at that mad circus without one presiding ringmaster, I grow more and more satisfied with the calm, rational, provable, and proved philosophy that the Church offers me. I return to my Catholic books as a man returns to his own familiar study after a jangling, uproarious afternoon in Bedlam.

Don’t let them fool you with the impres sion that arrayed against Catholic truth is a solid and united army of religion, science,and philosophy. There isn’t. Hardly can two scientists, once they pass the facts they can see under a microscope or appraise in logarithms, sit down to chat without running off down different theoretical roads or pulling noses. Any three philosophers in a smoking-car are pretty sure to represent as many entirely different types of thought- probably three different ideas about so fundamental a thing as whether a man can know anything positive about the world or God or himself or the pancakes on the breakfast table. They won’t be sure whether they themselves are animals or slightly more complicated machines, or a mind that only thinks it has arms and legs and eyes, and wears rubber gloves and carries an umbrella. It sounds silly, but it is pitifully, ludicrously true.

And if philosophers and scientists are at irreconcilable odds, the religions outside the Catholic Church run all the way from the Church of the Divine Metaphysics to High Church Episcopalianism, from the masterly showmanship of Aimee Semple McPherson to the liturgy of the Greek Orthodox Church; and you can find any shade of belief, any fantasy of service and ritual, in the intervening grades.

In the face of all this, my Church says, calmly: “You cannot all be right, Christ certainly did not tea ch all those different things. Truth cannot contradict itself. While you fight it out, suppose you stop calling me names and beating me with any stick that comes to hand. Truth is one; error is multiform. My truth is one, for it was born of Christ and lives by His Faith, fortified by commonsense and reason.”

GLORIOUS TRUTHS

On the magnificent structure of reasonable philosophy and genuine science is built the edifice of Catholic doctrine: “God, the Creator of the universe, is our tender and provident Father; He so loved us as to send His only-begotten Son to save mankind, that had rebelled against Him; that Son died for us, but not till He had established a Church and given it the Sacraments as channels of His grace and strength; beyond death is eternallife or eternal death, to be measured by one’s conduct during an earthly probation; man is free to choose his own destiny; the Holy Spirit dwells in human hearts to give them the strength to make the right choice.” Could anything be more sane, reasonable, beautiful, or fitting the dignity of man than these fundamental truths? Not one of them but lifts man up to new heights and gives him a sense of his importance in the universe and his place in God’s eternal plan.

SHEER STUPIDITY,

I have found that such Catholics as leave the Church, in the vast majority of cases, completely overlook these great fundamental truths, and are muddled by some misunderstood trifle. Of course, I am overlooking the tens of thousands who leave because the Church remembers the Sixth Commandment, and annoyingly repeats: “Thou shalt not steal.” Most losses of faith start, not with the mind, but with the emotions. There are people who reject Faith because they find it so hard to do the things their Faith demands.

But, while they overlook the fundamental truths, they urge as the reason for their departure some silly doubt -for instance, that a whale could have swallowed Jonah. They boggle at the idea of Adam’s being punished for eating an apple. They think it incredible that Christ could have walked upon the water; or, more frequently nowadays, they say that evolution has done away with the need of a Creator.

All of which is as silly as giving up one’s American citizenship because one can’t be lieve that Washington cut down a cherry tree or that Abraham Lincoln wrote the Gettysburg Address on the back of an envelope.

If the departing doubters would take time to look about they would quickly find that the Bible says that God prepared a big fish; that itsays nothing whatever about Adam’s eating apples or peaches or bananas, but a great deal about his wanting to be like God, and that there is in Catholic philosophy a whole important treatise on miracles proving that if God made nature He remains the Master of nature, even to the extent of changing its laws or interfering with its normal courses. Nor will they find that the theory of evolution any more eliminates the need of a Creator than the finding of a gift automobile in one’s garage eliminates the need for Mr. Henry Ford.

TIME-TESTED

Stupidly, these men never remember or take into consideration the fact that every doctrine of the Church has been scrutinised most carefully, investigated in all its bearings, exposed to the most violent attacks from inside and outside the Church, and then, only because it was fundamentally in God’s revelation or because some heretic persistently attacked it, was it imposed upon the mind of the faithful as explicitly to be believed. No organisation has ever been so careful about the truths it proposed or so slow to reach a final decision as has the Church. Medical societies discussing new cancer cures, and religious convocations pronouncing haphazardly upon divorce laws, would learn much human prudence from the way in which the Church balances arguments and weighs difficulties before it finally promulgates a truth.

No wonder that in its two thousand years of teaching it has never had to retract a single point once defined as revealed truth; Remember that. Not one retraction! There’s a record for the world to shoot at-and miss.

For outside the Catholic Church men, clever men and reputable scientists, spend half their lives retracting the things that during the other half they taught ex cathedra and with fulminations against the doubter. The speed with which religious errors and scientific hypotheses opposed to the Catholic Faith die is equalled only by the speed with which new ones are born.

Calmly, surely, with the certainty that Christ guides its steps and directs its words and that the indwelling Holy Spirit keeps it from possibility of doctrinal error, the Church goes the simple way of truth; and what is truth to-day was truth a thousand years ago, and will be truth when Broadway is buried under the sand-drifts of the centuries.

THREE WORLDS

Catholic truth pierces the next world and gives the Catholic glorious dogmas like the Communion of Saints, with its Church Triumphant in heaven, its Church Militant on earth, its Church Suffering in purgatory-the dream of a true internationalist carried into three worlds.

Tenderly my Church searches out the immediate human need for mercy and the clear assurance of forgiveness and reconciliation with God, and it pours into the soul the soothing joy of absolution. It looks forward with the prophetic vision of Christ to the final accounting of the Last Judgment, but it remembers the instant need of the frightened, dying man for strength, and it hurries to him with the Eucharistic Christ Who will some day be the Judge. It fights triumphantly for the inspired character of the Bible, but it is ready to welcome the last scientific truth that has proved itself, though it is not misled by the premature brainchild of a suddenly enthusiastic laboratory assistant.

This is my Faith, as I have come to know it and love it. Beside it all else seems a welter of conflicting ideas and a Jasonfield of dragon’s teeth, warriors ready, the instant they forget their hatred of the Church, to fall upon one another in deadly combat. My feet are on the rock. I have seen too many feet slipping about in bogs and disappearing in the treacherous quicksands.

Of course, the Church has had bad Popes. But the bad Popes never, be it noted, taught a single error, even when they were living in open lust. The Church, because it is divine, went on its way, despite bad rulers who would have wrecked a human institution.

Of course, churchmen have made mistakes. Christ chose twelve Apostles; one of them sold Him to His death, one denied His name, and all but one deserted Him in His hour of need.

Of course, there has been need of reforms, and the reforms have come, sometimes to the sweet songs of a Francis of Assisi, sometimes with the stern punishment of Black Deaths. But, even when reform was most vitally needed (and saints are the first to admit and denounce the abuses), the Church kept preaching Christ’s truths, dispensing Christ’s Sacraments, and pointing out unmistakably the road to heaven. Bad Popes and glorious saints have been found in the same decades.

LIBERTY

And, as I said when 1 was gesturing back to the glorious history that is ours, we live in the present, the here-and-now; and in that present, that here-and-now, as clearly as in the past, the Catholic Church is the one Church daring to claim to speak with the voice of Christ, reasonable in its attitude toward this life, yet supernatural in its outlook on the next. On every question, of small importance or great, it knows its own mind, and men who care to find out know its mind, too- and sometimes I doubt that any other institution in the world to-day can say the same.

The world is full of slovenly thinking. You hear so much in praise of religion without dogma. That 1s like praising bread without flour or the human body deprived of its skeleton, or a State without its Constitution. You hear a great deal in praise of freedom of thought; but nobody thinks a man is free to believe that the world is flat or that he has three hands or that Washington discovered America, while Columbus was the hero of the Revolutionary War. It is only in religion that a man must have the liberty to be vague and uncertain, and substitute generalities for the warm, heart-satisfying truths that Christ passed on to His Church.

I love my liberty, and I have found it in what St. Paul called the freedom of Christ. Freedom does not mean uncertainty or the ability to contradict to-day what I said yesterday; and I am not interested in being free to talk like an ass when the Church teaches me to think like an angel; I am not interested in the discussions of dunces when I can listen to the doctors of the Church. I have no desire for the liberty of a squirrel cage when I can walk the straight, clear-cut road marked out for me by Christ and the world’s great thinkers.

THE SUPREME GIFT

Throughall the foregoing pages I have not touched on the thing that, of all the Church’s gifts, is to me most precious. I have not told you how the Catholic finds within the fold not merely the sheep, but the Shepherd; not the remote, historic Christ, but the living, present Christ, in His tender humanity and His strengthening divinity, close enough to welcome into one’s heart, near enough to be the sharer of every happiness and the bearer of every cross. I have not told you how truly I find that in my Church Christ is with us, with me, all days, even to the end of the world.

Crude, hurried, barely a rough sketch is this that I have given you of my Faith. But you can know this Faith only by possessing it; and its dearness grows with constant use.

It is your Faith for the asking; and with that Faith comes all that the human heart can ask for in the realities of life and the certainties of eternity.

Nihil obstat

J. DONOVAN, Censor Deputatus.

Imprimatur

@ D. MANNIX,

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis.

********

My Mind Still Wanders

REV. JOHN P. DELANEY, S.J

INDEX

My Mind Still Wanders, Father. . . .

It does, eh? I told you once not to brag about it,* though actually it is a sort of mental activity. What is it this time? Still, Mrs. O’Brien’s hat?

No, I’ve got her (and it was Mrs. Williams,’ by the way) pretty well under control. I have solved the problem of women’s hats so well that instead of distracting me during Mass, they make me think of the Mass wherever and whenever I see them. Like on the subway, for instance. A feather gets in my eye, or some hat that’s more than ordinarily inadequate as headgear catches my attention, and immediately I say, Lord have mercy on us. That makes me think of the Kyrie Eleison in the Mass and then I remember that there’s a Mass going on somewhere in the world and I immediately make the intention of sharing in the offering of that Mass. Naturally then I ask myself if what I am doing at the moment is being done well enough to offer it in the Mass. No, it’s not hats, God bless both them and the ladies under them. Right now, I seem to have fallen a victim to uniform distractions.

Uniform distractions? I’ve studied a good bit of moral theology, but . . .

You see, it’s this way. With so many people in uniform nowadays, and so many different kinds of uniforms, I got interested in the subject and bought me a book that explained all about insignia and stripes and bars and gold braid and the like. I found out what a gold bar means and a silver bar and a gold leaf and a silver leaf and all the different insignia of the different branches of service. Then it becomes sort of a game. You try to recognise every one you see. And do you know where I’ve been seeing most of them? You’re right. At Mass. It must be a holy army we have. The only Major-General I’ve ever seen, I saw at Mass a few weeks ago. It’s gotten so bad that every time I see a uniform walking up the aisle, I try to identify the service and the rank, and when I should be praying, my mind goes on: Cavalry? No. Engineers? No. Anti-aircraft? No, until I get it. If I don’t get it, I’m tormented all through Mass, and I’m just waiting until I get home to look up the book. And now, they’ve added all those Women’s Auxiliaries. Tell me, Father, is it just me, or are all people that way? I’ve tried to follow your former suggestions, following especially the Offertory, the Consecration, the Pater Noster, the Communion and then that last prayer, the highlights, you called them. But it looks as though I need more highlights. Help me out?

Maybe. Did you ever hear of the Alcoholics Anonymous?

The group of former heavy drinkers who try to help other heavy drinkers become former heavy drinkers?

That’s them. Well, they have a rule they give to all who are sincerely trying to give up drinking. It’s this: Stay dry only for twenty-four hours. Then for another twenty-four hours. Then for another twenty-four hours. And so on. I wonder if we couldn’t apply that idea to your wandering mind. Could you possibly keep your mind on the Mass for five minutes?

I think I could.

Good. Well, let’s see if there’s any sort of a call to Attention occurring at five minute intervals during the Mass. Can you think of any?

You mean some phrase running through the Mass that seems to say, “Snap out of it and pay attention now for the next five minutes”?

That’s what I mean.

Couldn’t be Dominus Vobiscum, could it?

DOMINUS VOBISCUM

Could be and is. You know, now that yours is a military problem, I think we’ve found a military solution. Dominus Vobiscum really is something like ‘Ten-shun.’ Or better still, it’s a salute and you return the salute and stand at attention until the end of the Mass gives you the At Ease.

It’s not too far-fetched either. The Dominus Vobiscum really is a salute, the salute of the priest to you. It’s the * This refers to a previous pamphlet, “My Mind Wanders,” by the same author. grandest salute in the world or, if you want, the grandest greeting. If you ever sat in an Irish cottage, you would have heard every new arrival greet the family with a “God bless all here.” And “all here” would answer, “And you, too, kindly sir.” I don’t know if the Irish took that from the Mass, but it’s a pretty good translation of the Dominus Vobiscum and its answer, Et cum spiritu tuo. Several times in the Mass, the priest turns to you, opens his arms wide and says, “God be with you.” I think I can speak for all priests when I say that we put our heart and soul into that gesture and that greeting. I’d really like to embrace the whole gathering and by that embrace bring them closer to Christ in the Mass. With all my heart and soul I mean that “God be with you “ With all my heart and soul I call down God’s blessing and God’s grace and God’s love on you.

I know, too, that it’s not an empty word. I know that it’s through me as a priest that the Grace of God does flow into you. It’s a meaningful gesture I use-hands outstretched so that the Grace of God may pour from my priestly hands into your heart.

THE SAME TO YOU

It would be nice to think that every Catholic at Mass answers that greeting with all the fervour of his heart and soul. The altar boy answers for you, “Et cum spiritu tuo.” It means “and with your spirit” or simply “and, with you too, Father,” or “God bless you too, Father.” It’s a grand prayer for the priest. I have offered Mass often where the whole congregation answered the prayers of the Mass, and I can tell you it did my heart good to hear several hundred people shout their answer to my greeting. I know I carried on the Mass with a greater realisation than ever that we are one in the offering of the Mass, priest and people. There’s a certain compelling warmth that flows out of a congregation that sincerely answers your greeting.

But I couldn’t be the only one in Church to answer the prayer, could I?

No, I’m not suggesting that, but I do think that once you know what that prayer means, you’ll be waiting for it, watching for it and putting your heart into your silent answer. You surely know that we priests need your prayers, your support, your backing. Backing isn’t the right word. It really should be your “surrounding.” That’s the Latin phrase, anyhow, though it sounds tough in English. You are the “circumstantes”-those who stand around, those who surround priest and Altar in a holy circle. After all, we have to preach the full Christ-and we can’t preach Christ complete unless we’re trying our best to live Christ complete, to be really other Christs. It’s through us that Christ is poured out on you, and for your own sakes you ought to pray that we be simply overflowing with Christ. We hold Christ in our hands. Our whisper brings Him into your midst, into your “surrounding,” and you ought to pray that our breath be pure and our hands be spotless. Saintly priests, saintly people. We are priests for you. Think of all that at your Dominus Vobiscum and your mind won’t wander. If you miss a single Dominus Vobiscum and its answer, you’re missing an opportunity to sanctify a priest. You’re failing all of us priests-and failing us, you’re failing all the people, too.

That’s kinda strong, Father.

Well, you asked for strong medicine, and those hats seem to have a strong grip on you . .

Not hats, please, Father. I’ve got them conquered. Uniforms.

All right, uniforms. That brings us back to our military note the “Tenshun’ note of the Dominus Vobiscum . . . Oh, but just a minute, I’ve thought of something else. What you need is a tin helmet.

What I sometimes need Is a good clout on the head.

A TIN HELMET

Perhaps, but seriously, the Church does provide a sort of helmet against distractions at Mass. You’ve seen a priest vest, haven’t you? Then you’ve seen him put on the amice, that broad piece of linen that he drops over his shoulders, tucks into his collar and ties around him? I suppose originally it was a hat of sorts. The word “amictus” means “bound,” and maybe it refers to the band around the head that Romans wore in place of hats. At any rate, it later developed into a head covering. The monks still wear it as a cowl. European priests often have a cowl on their cloaks, to slip over their hats in case of rain. The ladies adopted it on their raincoats a few years ago.

Now who’s talking about ladies’ hats?

Stop your nonsense and listen to me. Did you ever read the prayer the priest says as he puts on the amice? I thought not. Then here it is, “Lord, place on my head a helmet of salvation to ward off the attacks of the devil.” Modernise the helmet and you’ve got a tin helmet as a protection against the aerial bombardment of distractions. At least that’s what the prayer means in a practical way to me when I say it every morning

Do you mean to say a priest’s mind wanders at Mass, too?

Of course it does, unless he so saturates his mind with a knowledge of the Mass and thoughts of the Mass that they crowd out all other thoughts. Now, soldier, put on that tin helmet and let’s get going to the call to attention that occurs so frequently in the Mass.

Let’s keep in mind that besides being a greeting and a salute, the Dominus Vobiscum really is a pedagogical way of saying, “Come on, pay attention now. There’s something important coming up, something you just can’t miss.” Could you tell me offhand when the Dominus Vobiscum occurs in the Mass?

NINE SALUTES

Sure. There’s one at the end of the Prayers at the foot of the Altar. There’s another after the Gloria or after the

Kyrie, if there is no Gloria, then another at the beginning of the Gospel. That’s three isn’t it?

Good. I can see how doing the children’s homework helps your mathematics.

Thanks, Padre. Then there’s a fourth after the Credo, or after the Gospel. There’s a fifth to snap us to attention for the Preface. Let’s see, is there one during the Canon? You’re doing the counting.

Well, before the consecration, no. After the consecration . . . no, nothing during the canon, but there’s one or something like one after the priest breaks the Host. Can we count that in? “Pax Domini sit semper vobiscum?”

I think we can.

Well, that makes six. The seventh is after the Communion prayer. There’s one more just before the Blessing. That’s eight, and the last and ninth at the beginning of the Last Gospel. Pretty good, eh? But, say, Father, you’ve got something there. Nine in all in a Mass that doesn’t take more than a half hour-at the rate of one every three minutes. I’d have to be an awful scatterbrain not to be able to concentrate for those short intervals. And then I suppose even if I did start moping, unless I went completely asleep, I’d hear the next Dominus Vobiscum and I’d come to again. It ought to work.

It will work unless you’re a mental sluggard.

But maybe I am. What is it?

A sluggard-a mental lazybones; a man with a mind as lively as a cold pancake.

We’ll skip that. Go on with what you were going to say.

ATTENTION

Take the first Dominus Vobiscum. It comes just as the priest is about to mount the Altar after the prayers at the foot of the steps. He’s really going to start the Mass. The prayers he has been saying used to be part of his private preparation though they are grand prayers, too. “I will go unto the Altar of God, of God Who gives joy to my youth.”

Whoa up, Father. I’ve often wondered about that. Why the joy to my youth? Are us old fellows left out completely-fellows like me, say-and you?

No, you old fellows are not left out. A man’s youth is the period of growth, isn’t it? You’re young as long as you’re still growing, until you reach your prime. You’re still young until you start going down hill and your legs give out and you can’t work as hard as you used to. Right?

Guess I was born old . . .

But spiritually, is there any such thing as growing old? I don’t like that phrase “growing old in the service of the Lord.” We’re all, as long as we keep in the state of Grace, growing young. We’re continually building up, developing the Life of Christ in us with the food of the Sacraments and the exercise of all the virtues. If we are sincerely trying to serve God, we can’t grow old. There’s no period pf decline. We reach our pilule and then we go on being perpetually young in heaven. You don’t think of Our Lady as two thousand years old, do you? You don’t think of the Little Flower as eighty years old, do you? So buck up, youngster, the joy of God is for you, too. But don’t get me started on every little prayer in the Mass, or we’d never finish. You’ve got the Confiteor, for instance, in those prayers at the foot of the Altar, all of us putting ourselves, as it were, in the dock before the whole court of heaven, before God and the Blessed Mother and all the Angels and all the Saints and, with them looking on, we say very simply that we are sinners. Then we turn to them all and we say, “Pray for me to the Lord, our God.”

They will, all of them, and just when you are liable to lose yourself in the pleasant picture of all heaven down on its knees before the throne of God for you, the priest shouts out “Dominus Vobiscum,” the Lord be with you. The Lord is with you. So come on now and let’s offer Mass together. If you need special help to keep your mind on the Mass, all those people in heaven will get it for you. Just to be sure they will, read the two little prayers the priest says as he walks up the steps and kisses the Altar.

“Take away from us, O Lord, all our sins, that pure of heart and mind we may enter into the Holy of Holies.” I’ve told you before that we ought to be trying to be as spotless as Christ, if we want to offer Mass with Christ.

And the next little prayer, as the priest kisses the Altar: “We beg Thee, O Lord, by the merits of the saints whose relics are here and of all the saints, graciously to pardon all my sins.” If you memorise those prayers and say them with the priest, your mind won’t wander.

THEME SONG

Did you ever watch an orchestra leader snap his musicians to attention just as they are about to start the entry march, say at a political gathering. They’re going to play the theme song of the hopeful candidate. The orchestra strikes up, the audience rises and they all sing together “Happy Days Are Here Again,” or “The Sidewalks of New York,” or “Maryland, my Maryland.” It’s the same thing when the bridal procession starts, the organist’s hands fall on the keys, the people rise and the theme song of the wedding march swells through the church.

Well, there’s your Introit at Mass, the first prayer the priest reads over at the side of the Altar. It really was and still is a processional hymn. The people used to sing it while the priests were entering the church. Too bad we have given up the custom of singing it together. The least we can do is get the singing spirit of it and the theme song idea. The Introit does give the key of the Mass. It is the theme song of the Mass and for that matter the whole day. Your little bride keeps humming the wedding march to herself all day long. The followers of a political candidate are always whistling their theme song. I’ll bet you can’t tell me now what was the theme song of this morning’s Mass.

No bet, Father. That’s a sure thing.

But look, wouldn’t it help you to concentrate on the Mass if you were to look for some phrase in the Introit that would stay with you all day long? Could you tell me the theme song of the Easter Mass, for example?

No again, Father. I’m sorry.

It’s one of the most inspiring of the whole liturgy, “I have arisen and am still with you.” What a battle song! I can imagine the Apostles going through life with that song in their hearts. In discouragement and fear and work and doubt, “I have arisen and am still with you.” When the whips of their enemies were whistling about their bared backs, when the executioner’s axe was about to fall, when the hammer poised above the first nail made crucifixion a reality, “I have arisen and I am still with you.”

That’s O.K. for Easter, Father, but we’re just in the beginning of Lent.

Bright boy. Take a look at your Lenten Missal. In the Introit for the first Sunday of Lent you have these phrases from God’s own lips, “He shall call upon Me and I shall hear him. . . . He that dwells in the aid of the Most High shall abide under the protection of the God of heaven.” Appropriate? On the second Sunday of Lent, “Deliver us, O God of Israel, from all our troubles. . . . In Thee, O God, I have put my trust; let me not be disappointed.” On the beam? You know, it’s an amazing thing, once you get this theme song idea of the Introit, you’ll be startled at the aptness of the theme-phrases you can find.

But the main point is this: start noticing them. Once in a while during the day, ask yourself what you remember from the morning’s Mass. You’ll have to give yourself a zero quite often in the beginning, but I’ll guarantee that after a while you’ll be following the Mass more closely and your mind won’t wander so much.

Guarantee, eh? You wouldn’t be using personal experience?

LORD HAVE MERCY ON US

I certainly would be. Now your Introit doesn’t take a minute. The Kyrie which follows takes even less. The Gloria not much longer. That makes our first period of concentration not more than three minutes. Your mind capable of that much diligent application to a job in hand?

Yes, I think so, especially since I’ve already come to love the Kyrie. It’s so simple and profound, isn’t it? The whole Church praying the prayer of the publican, “God, be merciful to me a sinner.”

You’re learning. Kyrie eleison, Lord have mercy on us. Christe eleison, Christ have mercy on us. Son of David, have mercy on us. God knows, it’s a grand prayer for our days, for all days for that matter. It must have been an inspiring thing when all the Church answered the priest in that litany!

Litany?

Yes, I though you knew that the Kyrie was once the beginning of a long litany. If you’ve ever attended the ordination of a priest, or the consecration of a Bishop, or the coronation of a Pope, you’ve taken part in that Litany. When Pius XII was crowned a few years ago, those who were assisting the Pope walked in procession down the steps in front of the main Altar that leads to the tombs of the Popes. (Pius XI’s body had travelled those steps for the last time just a few weeks before) . There over the spot where rests the body of the first Peter, they started the Litany. It sounded rather ragged at first, but then the forty thousand people in the Church-Cardinals and Bishops and nobles and government representatives and peasants and priests and nuns-all took up the responses, Lord have Mercy on us . . . Christ have Mercy on us . . . Pray for us . . . Pray for us. It became, what really it always should be, the united prayer of the whole Church.

It’s easy to keep your mind on such a prayer, and just as easy to be alive to the strong, powerful, joyful Gloria in Excelsis Deo. Glory be to God in the highest and on earth peace to men of Good Will. Some day, we’ll go through the Gloria, phrase by phrase. The angels’ song over Bethlehem. The meaning of the peace of Christ, a peace “that has no earthly reason.” The perfect unselfishness of adoration in the phrase, “We give Thee thanks for Thy Great Glory.” The militant enthusiasm, the almost cheering- section insistence on “We praise Thee, we bless Thee, we glorify Thee.” You can meditate on that prayer the next time you take a ride in the subway. You’ll get more out of it than out of memorising subway ads., or ruining your eyes on a newspaper. All right, soldier, At Ease.

AT EASE

But that’s just the first three minutes of the Mass. You’re not going to stop now, are you?

No, but still there is an At Ease command there. Can you pick it out?

‘Fraid not, Father.

How about the sign of the Cross at the end of the Gloria? Actually, there is a relief of tension in it. The Gloria is such a keen prayer, such an intense prayer that it is just a trifle exhausting. The priest has been standing at attention all through it and now the movement of the sign of the Cross, the kissing of the Altar, the turning around to face the people, there you have your At Ease. But get this, it’s a very short At Ease and doesn’t give you permission to study Mrs. Murphy’s . . .

Please . , .

Army uniform. For the priest snaps you right back to attention with the second Dominus Vobiscum of the Mass. And he follows it with an order, Oremus, Let us pray. That’s an order and an invitation. And by the way, did you ever notice that at a Solemn Mass, we always come to our feet when the priest sings Dominus Vobiscum? You see, that idea of coming to attention has a liturgical foundation.

LET US PRAY

But to come back to the Let us pray, and the prayer of the day. It’s frequently called the Collect, I suppose, because it used to be a sort of collection of all the things people should want to pray for on a particular day. If you follow your missal, it’s easy. You read with the priest and you put a lot of energy into it, because you’re not praying for yourself alone, you’re praying for and with the whole Church. If you’re not following your missal for some reason or other, you can at least mentally unite yourself with the prayers of the Church, think of all the needs of the Church today, think of all who are in need of prayer and collect them all into a prayer that Christ can carry to His heavenly Father. For, remember, it’s all Through Christ Our Lord. “If you ask the Father anything in my name, He will give it to you.” Through Christ Our Lord, so that He may wash the specks and the dirt and the dust off our prayers before presenting them to God. Through Christ Our Lord, so that He may wrap our prayers in His own blood and His own suffering to make them pleasing to His Father. Through Christ Our Lord, so that we may use the very lips of Christ to speak our petitions, so that our prayers really become His Prayers. Amen to all that?

I should say so. You make me feel like shouting Amen at the end of the prayer.

THE LESSON

All right. Now come the Orders of the Day. You’ve often seen that representation of the Mass in the form of an arch, a small arch from the prayers at the foot of the Altar to the Credo, a large arch from the Offertory to the end of Mass? Well, we’ve just finished the up side of the small arch. “We speak to God” in the Introit, the Kyrie, the Gloria, the prayer. Now we start the down side of the arch. God speaks to us in the Epistle, in the Gospel, in the sermon. They are His Orders of the Day. And you remain at attention as you listen to the orders.

Have you ever closely watched the hands of the priest in different parts of the Mass? For the Dominus Vobiscum, they are open in greeting or open to give you Christ. During the prayer they are open in supplication. If you ever had even one lesson in elocution, you know that outstretched hands are begging hands. Remember the Old Testament story-Moses standing on the mountain with hands outstretched in prayer while the army fought below? As long as he held his hands outstretched, his army was successful. As soon as he let his arms drop, the army was driven back. Poor Moses didn’t know what to do. It’s quite a penance to keep your hands outstretched for a long time. Finally, he got two of his friends to hold his arms up for him. Not a bad thought for the Mass. During the prayer, you are supposed to be holding up the arms of the priest-and once again, let’s be strong-in the prayer that is suppgsed to be the prayer of the whole Church you’re failing the priest, you’re failing the Church, you’re failing Christ, if you let . . .

Soldiers’ uniforms . .

Soldiers’ uniforms distract you from the important task of supporting the arms of the priest in prayer. For the epistle, or lesson, you notice he drops his hands down to the book. I wonder why?

Maybe, like Moses, he’s getting tired of holding them up?

Or maybe, unlike Moses, he has “supporters” or “surrounders” who are more interested in chevrons or bars than in the job they have to do? An army officer holds the chart in his hands, when reading orders of the day, doesn’t he! In olden times when a letter from Paul arrived for one of the churches, the priest held the letter in his hands to read it to the people. Well, that’s what the priest is doing at this part of the Mass. He’s reading you a small part of one of Paul’s letters, or Peter’s or James’ or John’s, or some worthwhile lesson from the Old Testament. His hands on the book say to you: “Pay attention, now. This is good for you.” Read the lesson with him in your Missal and try to understand it. That’s not always easy, for St. Paul had a very condensed, concentrated style. He could say an awful lot in a few words. He wrote the language of the day, probably put into his letters now and then a little bit of mild slang, so that he’s hard reading today.

I’ve found that out, Father.

You have? And having found that out, have you ever thought of studying your Mass a bit the night before so as to be sure to understand it in the morning?

Well, I’ve thought of it.

Do it some time. It works wonders. But, what I wanted to say is this: Even though you don’t understand the whole lesson, couldn’t you try to pick out a phrase or a sentence, or a few sentences that you could keep in mind during the day? What was this morning’s epistle about?

Sorry, Father, I’ve forgotten, but to-morrow . . .

To-morrow I hope I meet you somewhere and I’ll ask you about the Introit and the Epistle and the Gospel, and the next day and the next day and the next day, and I’ll bet . . .

Sorry, Father, I’m not a betting man.

AGAIN AT EASE

Fortunately. Anyhow that closes our second period of Attention. How long is it? Not much more than a few minutes. That mighty mind of yours should be able to stay put that long. Now another At Ease. Actually, that’s the mind of the Church. The Epistle is followed by a Gradual or a Tract and this used to be sung while the people sat quietly and thought over the lesson they had just listened to. A little bit of morning meditation in the Mass, if you will. And notice the moving around with this At Ease, too. The book is carried over to the other side of the Altar. The priest moves over after it, stopping at the centre of the Altar to say a few little prayers. They’re good ones, too:

“Cleanse my heart and my lips, O Almighty God as you cleansed the lips of the prophet Isaias with a burning coal. In your loving kindness so purify me that I may worthily proclaim your Holy Gospel. Through Christ Our Lord.”

That purifying with a burning coal seems rather harsh at first, but then when you were young, didn’t you ever get your mouth washed out with soap for saying naughty words? Certainly it gives us some idea of the purity of lips and heart that should be the priest’s if he is going to preach the Gospel of Christ. And the laity’s too, for that matter, since every Catholic is supposed to preach, at least by example, the Gospel of Christ. There’s one other little prayer:

“May the Lord be in my heart and on my lips that I may worthily and effectively preach His Gospel.” That’s a prayer for a lifetime.

It’s a grand prayer, isn’t it, Father?

GENERAL ORDERS

Yes, and one that leads us right into the Gospel of the day. There’s another call to Attention as the priest sings out Dominus Vobiscum. This time it’s very easy to carry out the comparison of soldiers standing to attention for the reading of orders. The general orders of any Catholic are: Be like Christ. As you make the sign of the Cross on forehead, lips and breast, you give your whole-hearted obedience to those general orders. Christ in your mind. Christ on your lips. Christ in your heart. Christ in thought and word and desire and deed. Or to put it another way, you are dramatically reminded at the beginning of the Gospel that you, as a good soldier of Christ, must try to make every thought of your mind worthy of the mind of Christ, every word that passes your lips worthy of the sacred lips of Christ bruised on Calvary, every love and desire and ambition of your heart worthy of the Sacred Heart of Christ, every action of every day of your life worthy of the Captain whose cross is your only insignia. A rather high ideal in your general orders. Is it any wonder that to help you live such an ideal, the priest prays, Dominus Vobiscum. May the Lord be with you.

Pretty hard ideal, too, isn’t it, Father?

Of course, but you don’t expect a soldier’s life to be easy, do you? Yet, it’s not too hard. Of course, you’ll never reach the ideal. You’ll keep struggling and striving after it every day of your life, until Christ decides you’re enough like Him to be recognised by St. Peter at the Pearly Gates.

How’s Peter’s eyesight?

ORDERS OF THE DAY

Rather keen, I’m afraid. He was a fisherman, and professional fishermen have pretty good eyes. He spent three years at Our Lord’s side, so that even though he was rather slow in recognising Our Lord once, he’ll insist on seeing a pretty fair picture of Christ in you before he lets you into Christ’s eternal home. But don’t let that worry you. In the Gospels of the daily Mass throughout the year you have a pretty complete account of the life of Christ, a gradual portrayal of the character of Christ. If you try to do the whole thing in one lump, it’s pretty tough, almost impossible. But suppose you look on the daily gospel as Orders of the Day. There you have usually one incident in the life of Christ, one quality, one virtue of Christ described in action, not a naked virtue, but Christ being patient in practical circumstances, Christ being kind, Christ actually forgiving a particular individual, Christ praying. Christ in sorrow, Christ in disappointment. You could run down the whole list of virtues, and day by day, as you listen to the Orders of the Day in the Gospel of the Mass, you hear Christ saying, “Today, be like me in cheerfullness, or patience,” or whatever it may be.

Start with your Lenten Gospels. They are among the best of the entire year. Do you really want to be sincere about it? You do? Then, make up your mind that you’ll offer Mass every day during Lent. Every night, take your Missal. Read over the Gospel of the next day’s Mass. Study it. Think over it. Picture the whole scene very vividly before your mind. Bring Christ to life for yourself, and then ask yourself, what practical lesson is there in this Gospel for me tomorrow? In the Gospel of Ash Wednesday, for example, how about drawing the lesson of cheerful penance? Here’s what Our Lord says: “But you, when you fast, anoint your head and wash your face, that you appear not to men to fast, but to your Father who is in secret.” That’s practical, isn’t it?

But I do comb my hair and wash my face during Lent.

Wise guy. It means more than that. If you’re giving up cigarettes for Lent, don’t take it out on your fellow workers or, worse still, on your family. Don’t tell people all the hard things you’re doing, so that they’ll think, “Isn’t he a great Catholic?” Does that hit home?

Can’t I even groan, when Mary serves fish three times a week?

“When you fast, be not like hypocrites, sad.” There’s your answer, as you’ll find answers to so many problems in the Orders of the Day in the Gospel of the Day. Do this for a whole year, and you’ll know Christ much better. More than that, you’ll be much more like Him. You’re forgetting about your uniforms by this time, I hope.

Nope, I’m deliberately thinking of them. ‘Fraid I’m ahead of you, Padre. I’m thinking of uniforms and that phrase of St. Paul’s, “Put ye on Christ.” That’s my uniform and that’s what every Gospel from now on will keep shouting at me.

You’re doing well, but I sincerely hope that you won’t get ladies’ hats and uniforms mixed up. Never mind, never mind, let’s keep going. So far we’ve covered the Dominus Vobiscum before the Introit, before the Collect and Epistle, before the Gospel. And that, by the way, closes the preparatory arch of the Mass, the “We speak to God, God speaks to us” part.

How about the sermon?

I forgot. Yes, the sermon in the Sunday Mass is part of the down sweep of the Arch. God speaks to us through the lips of the priest. And think of this: God can speak to you in the language of a priest who may not be a brilliant writer or a brilliant orator. God may even speak to you through the words of a poorly prepared sermon.

WE OFFER

Now, there shouldn’t be any half measures about the next Dominus Vobiscum or about your answer to it. This is one part of the Mass where you must be on your toes-the offering to God in the hands of the priest of the bread and wine that are to become the Body and Blood of Christ. Did I ever remark that there’s something psychologically wrong about our present “manner of assisting at Mass?” Look. All through the preparatory prayers from the foot of the Altar to the end of the Gospel or Credo, we kneel or stand. Now, with the Mass actually beginning, now that we are to offer the Holy Sacrifice, we suddenly sit down, almost as though it were a rest period, a time of relaxation, an extended At Ease, rather than a big, tense, dramatic, important part of the Mass.

You wouldn’t want me to be the only one in church standing or kneeling for the Offertory, would you?

I’m not so sure that I wouldn’t. Then, at least, some people would ask you why you’re “peculiar,” and you would have a chance to explain the importance and meaning of the Offertory. But, kneeling or sitting or standing, I’d want you to be on your toes for this part of the Mass. Put aside your Missal now (you ought to have the Offertory prayers memorised) and follow every gesture the priest makes. Watch him as he puts the chalice to one side and takes up the paten with the white Host resting on it. That’s a piece of bread he’s offering, a piece of bread that’s going to become Christ. Say the prayer with the priest, “Accept, O Holy Father, this spotless Host,” and as you say the prayer, remember to have something of your own to offer every day at Mass. Put yourself, your life, your work, your troubles, all of you, on the paten to offer to God with the Host. Just a moment ago, I said the bread that is to become Christ. Could we add also, offer to God the you that is to become Christ?

THE GRAPE OF THE VINE

No, don’t interrupt for a moment. Follow the priest as he takes the Chalice and moves to the side of the Altar. He takes the cruet, pours in the wine, the wine that is to become the Blood of Christ. The priest says no prayer as he pours. It takes only a moment, but lest your mind wander in that moment, you might think back to the night when Christ Himself filled the Chalice, and you might think of all the holy hands of holy priests, confessors and doctors and martyrs who, day by day, hour by hour, from the earliest days of Christianity, have filled the Chalice with the wine that was to become the Blood of Christ. You might think of all the millions of people who like yourself have watched the wine flowing into the Chalice, eager as you are eager, to offer it to God. You might think of all the churches and all the chapels throughout the world, all the camps and all the battle stations, in the jungle, behind the battle line, in the snows of Alaska, all the hospitals and all the persons-for wherever man is or goes there, too, go Christ and the priests of Christ. And all these Masses are one Mass, the unending Sacrifice of Calvary.

The main thing, however, at this point of the Mass is the offering. You don’t want to be a mere spectator. You don’t want to be just “hearing Mass.” You don’t want to be just “present at Mass.” Even in talking about Mass, I’d suggest that you always try to use the phrase “offer Mass.” With Christ and the priest and the whole Catholic world, you, too, are offering to God the bread and wine that will soon be Christ.

IT’S OUR MASS

Get the universal idea of the Mass. It’s not the priest’s private prayer. It’s not your private prayer. It’s the offering of the whole Church. As you offer the bread you say,

“for all the Christian Faithful, both living and dead, that it may help both them and thee to gain eternal life.” When you offer the wine, you say, “for our salvation and for that of the whole world.” There’s nothing small or selfish about that prayer.

Yet, if you want, it’s highly selfish. If it’s true that every time you offer Mass, you are offering Mass for the entire world, then it’s equally true that every Mass that is offered anywhere in the world, at any time at all, is being offered also for you. All day long, all night long Christ is being offered up for you. Your work may be hard, your surroundings difficult, your troubles vexing. You may be lonely, discouraged, blue, sick, in pain or just feeling depressed by the monotony of your life. Yet all that is bearable in the strength of the Mass that is offered for you twenty-four hours of every day. All that is bearable if you think of Christ, Our High Priest, perpetually interceding for you, perpetually presenting Himself as an offering for you to His and Our heavenly Father. With the Grace of the Mass perpetually upon you, your life cannot be too hard.

Remember, too, that you, as a part of the Church, as a member of the Body of Christ, of the Complete Christ, have a right to offer every single Mass that is ever offered. Right now as we talk together, there is Mass being offered somewhere in the world. You can offer that Mass. You can say, with every priest in the world, “Accept, O Holy Father, this spotless Host,” and with every priest in the world, “We offer Thee, O Lord, this Chalice of Salvation.” That’s part of the meaning of living the Mass, offering Mass all day long, consciously and deliberately recalling and recalling frequently that you are offering Mass around the clock. That will mean, of course, that you will always keep yourself in shape to offer Mass; and keeping in shape to offer Mass, means keeping close to Christ, keeping Christlike, being Christ.

LIVE THE MASS

Sometimes we talk about the futility of life, about the unimportance of this or that piece of work or kind of work. Tell me, is any life futile that is spent continually and perpetually doing the greatest thing that man can do -offering Mass with Christ? Or can any work, any word, any thought be unimportant if it can be offered at Mass, if it can be united with the Body and Blood of Christ and offered to God in the hands of Christ?

I’ve said that at the Offertory we must have something of our own to offer. That’s weak. We must have everything of our own to offer. But don’t let the offering stop with the Mass at which you are present. Offer everything you have to offer in every Mass you may offer, and that is every Mass throughout the world. This conversation can be offered in a Mass that’s going on now-and, of course, that means that you and I have to try to make this conversation worthy of being offered with Christ. You can offer the work you do in Mass; you can offer your reading, your hours of leisure, your meals with the family at home, your prayers. It’s a powerful motive for Christ-like living, living in such a way that everything you say or do or think will be worthy of being offered in the Mass. That, too, is living the Mass, making your whole life a living of the Mass

I’ve told you before that the little drop of water the priest puts into the Chalice can represent you. Believe that, believe it unto realisation, and you’ll be trying to put as many drops as possible into as many Chalices as possible all day, every day.

IT WORKS

One story was told to me of a Catholic lady who gained a practical understanding of this offering of herself in the Mass and in it found peace. Just before she went up for a serious operation, she was chatting with her husband and almost worrying him by her apparent unconcern. “Aren’t you worried at all about this operation?” he finally asked.

“No,” she replied very gently, “You see I know how serious it may be, but I’m not worried. Just before you came in, I was trying to unite myself with some Mass being offered somewhere in the world, and I told the Lord that, if He wants me to suffer, I’ll put my suffering into the Chalice to be offered up with His Blood; if He wants my death, I offer my death in union with His; if He wishes me to live, then I drop my whole life into the Chalice and I know I can’t do anything better with it than offer it to God through Christ and with Christ.”

Another time during a retreat a man approached me just as I was going into the chapel for the last meditation of the retreat. He was worried. “You haven’t kept your guarantee, Father,” he said. I knew what he meant. I have, as you know, an almost blind faith in retreats, and at the start of every retreat I give, I guarantee that if the retreatants make the retreat earnestly, and sincerely, they will find somewhere in the retreat the specific help and grace they must need. Naturally, this man’s remark worried me. “Honestly, Father,” he went on, “I’ve done my best in this retreat. I came to find some new approach or some stronger motive against definite and constant temptations. I still feel just as weak as ever. I just haven’t found what I need.” All I could do was ask him to wait for me after the meditation, and then for the next half hour or so, I forgot all about him. As I was leaving the chapel later he came running up, all smiles. “I’ve got it, Father. I’ve got it. That last idea you gave about making every action worthy of being offered in a Mass actually going on. That’s it. That was just for me. If the thought of constantly offering Mass and my actions in the Mass can’t help me, then I must be hopeless, but I’m sure it’s going to work.”

We could go on and on and on and never exhaust the prayers of the Offertory or the thoughts they suggest. Say them day by day, memorise them, think over them and, as You follow the priest day by day through the offering of the bread and the wine, your mind won’t be wandering. Your only complaint will be that the Mass moves so fast, too fast for all the thoughts crowding into your mind

How about another ‘At Ease,’ Father?

Getting weary?

No, but I’d like time to digest some of those thoughts.

You have a lifetime to do that, a lifetime of living the Mass. I don’t know if I can find an At Ease for you in this part of the Mass. If anything, the movement of the Mass is speeding up as we reach a climax. It’s almost like the Life of Our Lord Himself. It moved at a slow, rather uneventful pace throughout the years at Nazareth, then the pace suddenly became fast through the years of His Public Life. There seems to be a furious speed-up in the week before the passion, reaching its climax in all the events crowded into the very short space between the Last Supper and Our Lord’s last sigh on Calvary.

PRAY, BROTHERS

It’s not hard to understand the speeding up of the movement of the Mass at this part. You have offered to God the bread and wine that is to become Christ, and you can hardly wait for the miracle that will bring Christ down to the Altar, the miracle that will make it possible for you to look on Christ and offer Christ Himself to God. Still if you insist on an At Ease, you have the moment when, with all the materials of the Sacrifice ready and waiting, the priest seems to hesitate a moment, before rushing on, turns around to his “surrounders” and begs them to pray that “my sacrifice and yours will be acceptable.” It’s almost as though he says, “Look now. This is not only my Sacrifice. It’s yours, too. Offer it with me. Back me up while I offer it. Hold up my hands, while I offer it. Pray with me that God will find our sacrifice pleasing.” That prayer comes back time and again from now on, and you can easily see why the priest needs your prayers. There’s no fear that God will not find the offering of Christ acceptable. He accepted it two thousand years ago, and He sealed the acceptance by the Resurrection and Ascension of Our Lord. That’s the reason we remind God more than once that we are offering this Sacrifice in memory of the Passion, Resurrection and Ascension. No the constant prayer for acceptance has meaning for us, rather than for Christ. We pray that the Sacrifice be acceptable for us, that God will accept our union of ourselves with Christ, that God will accept the offering we make of ourselves and our work and our life with Christ. We have to pray hard for that, and our every prayer becomes a reminder for us to be sincere and generous in our offering. Have you noticed that at the Orate Fratres the priest turns all the way around?

Yes, I’ve noticed that, but I’ve never been able to figure out why. The Dominus Vobiscum turn is only a half turn, then back the same way. The Orate Fratres is a full turn around. Why?

I’m not sure, but I wonder if it couldn’t be for somewhat the same reason that a speaker slowly turns his head to take in the whole audience when he wants to drive home a very impressive point. We are approaching a very impressive point of the Mass. The priest will not turn around for the next Dominus Vobiscum, so, it’s almost as though he is making a slow, full appeal to all in the church to join in the prayer of acceptance, to come closer and really join the “circumstantes” as we enter the most solemn part of the Mass. And he seems to be satisfied, for when he faces the Altar again, he says a little prayer in silence, the Secret, which is only a carrying out of his invitation to all the people to pray that this Sacrifice may be acceptable.

LIFT UP YOUR HEARTS

You’d think, then, that he would immediately hurry on to the consecration; but no-he’s still anxious to marshal his “circumstantes” and he sings out another Dominus Vobiscum. You’ll notice that it’s a stronger, more vibrant Dominus Vobiscum than any so far. It’s the most urgent in the Mass and the priest drives it home. “Lift up your hearts,” he calls out to you. You’d almost think that were put into the Mass just for you. Lift up your hearts. Forget everything else. Forget about uniforms and hats and people and put your mind wholly on God and on the great mystery that is to take place before your eyes. And you answer, “We have them lifted up to the Lord.” Then he invites you to join him in a hymn of thanksgiving. “Let us give thanks to the Lord, Our God.” And you answer, “It is right and fitting.”

But, Father, why a hymn of Thanksgiving here before the Consecration? Wouldn’t it be more fitting after the Consecration or after the Mass?

The priest actually answers that question in the very beginning of the Preface. “It is certainly fitting and right, just and helpful to salvation that we should always and in all places give thanks to Thee, Holy Lord, Eternal Father, God of all power. . . .” At all times and in all places. We’re too sparing of our thanks to God. We won’t be, if we live the Mass, for the Mass is the Eucharist, a sacrifice of thanksgiving. The Mass reminds us continually to give thanks.

Like the old phrase, Thanks be to God for everything9

Then, too, didn’t Our Lord at the Last Supper give thanks before He blessed, broke and gave to His disciples? And isn’t the priest doing just what He did and isn’t it right, too, just and fitting and useful to salvation to thank God for the Bethlehem and the Calvary that made our Mass of today a possibility? Thanksgiving, joyful, heartfelt, singing thanksgiving, that’s the mood in which to approach this most solemn part of the Mass.

It’s all, you note again, Per Christum Dominum nostrum. Through Christ Our Lord. Then very slyly you bring all the angels in. You’re really trying to bring heaven down to earth with the angels and the song of the angels, Holy, Holy, Holy, Lord . . . Blessed is He who comes in the name of the Lord . . . before you invite Our Lord Himself down.

Get the angels to do some of our praying for us?

That’s not as far-fetched as you think. We actually do ask that our voices, too, may be joined to their hymn of Thanksgiving, so that I suppose our off-key singing may be covered up in angelic harmony. At least that thought is very much in my mind every time I have to sing a Preface. It’s painful on me and painful on the people, but I hope the angels cover me up before God.

THE SETTING

Anyhow, the stage is all set for Christ. You have the elements of sacrifice, the bread and wine already blessed and waiting. You have the altar with its memories of the table of the Last Supper, with its stone of sacrifice, with its memories of the early Masses in the catacombs. You have Calvary in the crucifix that rises above the altar. You have the priest robed as the Apostles were robed when they offered Mass. You have the priest’s lips, purified as by a burning coal, set to pronounce the words in the name of Christ that will change the bread and wine into the Body and Blood of Christ. You have, all of you, the people, surrounding the Altar, backing up the priest, supporting the priest, united with him and Christ in the Body of Christ. You have the whole Catholic world offering the sacrifice for you. You have called upon the angels to come and stand around the Altar to give Christ an atmosphere of heaven to add to his human at-home-ness with us. In a moment you will say a prayer that puts us in union with Our Lady and the Apostles and the Martyrs and all the Saints. It’s not too hard to keep your mind focussed on such a stage-setting, is it?

If it is, you have the bell which becomes something of a silvery echo of the Dominus Vobiscum that ushered in this part of the Mass. In addition, you have the prayers before the consecration so full of meaning that we should spend a long, long time going over them:

The very fervent, urgent, anxious appeal in the Te Igitur. “Therefore we humbly pray and beg Thee, O most kindly Father, through Jesus Christ Thy Son, Our Lord, to accept and bless these gifts, these offerings, these holy and unspotted sacrifices . . .” and you think not only of the bread and wine which will become the spotless Christ. You think of you and your own offerings and your own gifts that you have added to the bread and wine; and you pray that they may become spotless with the spotlessness of Christ, acceptable as Christ, the beloved Son “in Whom I am well pleased. . . .”

The all embracing breadth of your “intentions”: “In the first place for Thy Holy Catholic Church that it may please Thee to guide and guard her in unity and peace throughout the world . . . for Pius, our Pope . . . for our Bishop . . . for all true believers in the Catholic and Apostolic Faith.” That sort of an offering takes all the selfishness out of your prayer. It makes your prayer big and it makes you big. Use your imagination a bit just to help you realise the prayer. For the Catholic Church throughout the world, in every nation under the sun, in Catholic countries and pagan countries and secular countries. That’s a missionary prayer, a prayer for the spread of the Faith, a prayer essentially for the ever-increasing development of the Body of Christ. For our Holy Father the Pope-father of children at war, father of English and American and Irish and German and Russian and French and Italian children; a father whose heart bleeds for a suffering world and who has told us that prayer is more powerful than armies; a father who leans upon the prayerful support of all his children. Yes, pray for him fervently at every Mass that his voice may be strong and that the world may listen eagerly to the principles of Christ that he speaks in the name of Christ. Pray for your own Bishop, the shepherd of the flock in your diocese, that God may guide and bless and strengthen him, that God may give him leadership and saintliness and courage.

BE MINDFUL, O LORD

Then in the next prayer, pray for your own. “Be mindful, O Lord, of Thy servants.” . . . It’s such a gracious thing to be allowed to place the names of those you love most into the sacred prayers of the most sacred section of the Mass- mother, father, wife, husband, children, brothers, sisters-all you know; all you work with, all you meet day by day, your friends and perhaps those not so friendly, your priests and every soul in your parish . . .”and all here present . . . for all near and dear to them . . .” In these days I’m sure you can’t fail to remember all the men in service and all their lonely ones at home, all the boys who are rushing for the first time into action, all the wounded and all the dying, all the captured and all the lost, all the chaplains who are with the boys wherever they go. Pray for all the sufferers of war and pray, too, as Christ would have you pray, for our enemies.

All the uniforms I see could remind me to do that, I suppose.

They could and they should. Follow your missal at this part of the Mass, but follow it thoughtfully. Did you ever notice how very elementary and how very insistent is the short prayer of offering just before the consecration!

“We beseech Thee, O Lord, to accept this offering which we, Thy servants, together with Thy whole household (again the universal note) make to Thee. Dispose our days in Thy peace. Command that we be snatched (it’s not saved, it’s snatched, a violent word, a fighting word) from eternal damnation and numbered in the flock of Thy chosen ones. (“Fear not, little flock,” maybe that’s what the last phrase makes you think of, the affection, the tenderness, the love of Christ for His “little flock.”) This offering do Thou, we pray Thee, O Lord, graciously bless in every way. Approve it. Set Thy seal upon it. Make it perfectly acceptable that it may become for us the Body and Blood of Thy most dear Son, Jesus Christ, Our Lord.” If you are close enough to the Altar, you’ll notice that the priest adds emphasis to each of those sharp phrases by making a sign of the Cross over the bread and wine. “Graciously bless.” A sign of the Cross. “Approve it.” A sign of the Cross. “Set Thy seal upon it.” A sign of the Cross. “That it may become for us the Body . . .” A sign of the cross. “And Blood . . .” A sign of the Cross. “Of Thy most dear Son, Jesus Christ, Our Lord.” You are not bothered very much by distractions, at the actual moment of Consecration, are you?

Not usually, but sometimes even then.

THIS IS MY BODY

I know. We’re queer, aren’t we? But after all, God made us queer.

The words of the missal put the scene of the Last Supper so vividly and clearly before us: Christ at table, surrounded by His Apostles. Christ taking bread. Christ lifting His eyes to heaven. Christ whispering a prayer of thanksgiving. Christ breaking bread. Christ by a word changing bread, bread, mind you, into Himself.

We as priests are privileged to imitate every gesture of Christ, to speak the words of Christ, to know that as we speak the words, “This is My Body,” the bread we hold in our hands is no longer bread. It is the Body and Blood of Christ, Our Lord. Bread one moment. The next, the living Christ. Through my words. In my hands.

And your privilege. With your own eyes to watch this most amazing of miracles. You watch the priest bending over the Host. You strain forward to try to catch his whisper. It’s too low. The moment is too fleeting. A piece of bread is there. Suddenly the priest is genuflecting. Then he’s holding aloft, no, not bread, but Christ. Christ, yours to offer, yours to present to God, yours to give to God as your perfect gift, in the name of the whole Church.

Should I look up, when the priest holds up the Sacred Host?

By all means, look up and look on Christ. Look up and reach up your hands to offer Christ to God. I can’t think of any moment of your life when you could be more pleasing, more acceptable to God than at this great moment, when you present to Him in love, in adoration, in thanksgiving, in reparation, in humble petition, His own Beloved Son. You need never feel afraid of appearing empty-handed before the Lord if you grasp the thought that you should be perpetually offering Christ to God, and with Christ yourself and all you are and have and think and say and do.

THIS IS THE CHALICE . . .

It’s the same with the Consecration of the Chalice. Again the priest acts the part of Christ. He takes in his hands “this glorious Chalice.” Again he gives thanks. He blesses. He says: “This is the Chalice of my Blood.” The colour of the wine does not change. The Chalice cup does not break with the divinity that is suddenly alive within it. There is no clash of thunder. No flash of flame. None of the radiance of Divinity. But the wine is no longer wine. In that instant it has become Christ. Once again, yours to offer to God. The Chalice that saves. In the Chalice the Blood of Christ and in the Chalice, too, all that you have offered to yourself, all that all the Catholics of the world have offered of themselves, all the Christly thoughts and Christly words and Christly deeds of the world, all the suffering of the world. In the Chalice, the Christ complete. And offering the Chalice, Christ Himself, the Eternal Priest, and at the Altar His anointed human priest, and about the Altar you and all the congregation and all the Catholic world. Offering the Chalice, the Christ complete.

TAKE YOU AND EAT

Is the offering acceptable, pleasing to God? Remember the anxiety of our prayer? Of course, the offering of Christ is acceptable. Our Mass, remember, is in memory also of the Resurrection and Ascension of Our Lord. But the offering from our hands? The offering, also, of ourselves. Acceptable? “Take you and eat, all of you.” Acceptable? “Take you and drink, all of you.” That’s God’s return for our offering. We offer Christ to God and God gives back to us, tc be our food and drink, Christ. Remember in the early part of the Mass, I spoke of the Arch, “we speak to God, God speaks to us?” Here’s the other Arch: “We give Christ to God.” First we give to God the bread and wine (and ourselves) that are to become Christ. Then we give to God the bread and wine changed into the Body and Blood of Christ. In return and completing the Arct, “God gives Christ to us.” The Arch is complete.

You’re getting a bit ahead of yourself, now, aren’t you, Father?

ALL OF YOU

A little, maybe. Yet it seems that the Church wants us to think of Communion even at the moment of Consecration, for the priest speaks those two phrases just before he consecrates. Besides, in season and out of season, ahead of time or behind time, I don’t think we can too often insist on the idea that such is the Mass complete: We give Christ to God, God gives Christ to us. We can’t insist too much that the receiving of Christ is the normal, natural, complete way of offering Mass. When we think of all the millions of Catholics, good Catholics, educated Catholics, loyal Catholics who don’t seem to know this, who are present at Mass Sunday after Sunday, and never seem to realise that there is something incomplete about their offering of Mass, something essentially incomplete about their Mass, if they do not come forward, after offering Christ to God, to receive Christ from the hands of God.

I think I remember you saying that before.

And I think you’ll hear me saying it again and again and yet again. It’s almost incomprehensible, this neglect of God’s greatest gift, or shall we say, even artistically, this failure to complete the world’s greatest work of art. It’s like building an arch with only one side to it. It’s like taking up a ‘plane and never bringing it down again. It’s like playing over and over again the first two acts of a play and never completing the performance. It’s like . . . oh, I can’t think of the perfect comparison. . . .

Like preparing meals and never eating them.

Yes, if you want. What a difference It would make in our lives and in our world if every Catholic in the world were just to take it for granted that he is to partake of God’s gift of Christ in every Mass he offers. Did I ever tell you the story of the old Irish lady?

Don’t think so.

Strange. The priest was taking her Communion one morning in one of those picture card old Irish cottages, whitewashed, thatch-roofed, roses by the door and all. In one of the little rooms the old lady lay in bed and as she saw the priest coming in with the Body and Blood of the Saviour, she tried to lift herself up in bed. She couldn’t, and a tear ran down her cheeks as the priest approached the bedside. “Father,” she said, “isn’t it terrible? Here’s my Lord Himself coming into my poor house and I can’t even be on my knees to welcome Him. But, Father,” and a smile lighted her face, “Father, will you tell Him for me that on the knees of my heart I welcome Him!” On the knees of my heart. . . . Grand phrase, isn’t it, Father?

Grand phrase! That’s poetry. Keep it in your mind the next time you approach the Communion rail. On the knees of my heart. . . .

But how about the next Dominus Vobiscum?

AGAIN WE OFFER

I did get a trifle side-tracked, didn’t I? We had finished the Consecration, I think. There’s no Dominus Vobiscum for some time now, I suppose because the Church thinks you shouldn’t find it too hard to keep your mind on Christ Who has just come upon the Altar. Even after the Consecration, you’ll notice that the prayers of the Mass keep insisting on offering Christ to God, and asking God to accept the offering. The prayer right after the Consecration, for instance: “Wherefore, O Lord, we who are both thy servants and Thy Holy people, calling to mind the Blessed Passion of the same Christ, Thy Son, Our Lord, His Resurrection from the grave and His glorious Ascension into heaven” (we’ve seen that phrase before), “offer to Thy August Majesty a sacrifice that is pure, a sacrifice that is holy, a sacrifice that is spotless, the Holy Bread of Eternal life and the Chalice of Eternal Salvation.”

That’s our offering, and that’s the offering we beg God “to look upon with kindly and gracious eye.” We remind Him of three sacrifices that from the Old Testament testimony we know were acceptable, the sacrifice that Abel offered Him, the sacrifice of Abraham so obediently willing to offer his own son, and the sacrifice of bread and wine that Melchisedech offered as a type of the sacrifice that we offer. We not only ask God to “look upon our sacrifice with kindly and gracious eye,” but “to command that these offerings be carried by the hands of Thy Holy Angel to Thy Altar on High in the sight of Thy Divine Majesty. . . .”

Who is His Holy Angel?

ALWAYS THROUGH CHRIST

Some say that phrase means Christ. He was, you know, the messenger supreme of God to man. He was the bearer of the Good Tidings, of the Gospel of Salvation; and as our Eternal Priest, it is He Who presents our sacrifice to God. We said before that that’s Christ’s eternal function as our Eternal Priest, to offer Himself continually to God for us, to stand between earth and heaven, one hand outstretched to receive our offerings, the other reaching into heaven to place our offerings in His own gracious way before God, the Father. Gracious? It is gracious of Him, isn’t it, to take our offerings and present them to God for us? Is there any greater guarantee of acceptance?

But it’s sort of unbelievable, isn’t it, that Christ should be our messenger?

It would be, if He had not willed it that way. He Wished to be one of us, so that He might be our Priest. Look at the rest of that prayer: “so that as many of us as shall partake at this Altar of the Most Sacred Body and Blood of Thy Son shall be filled with every heavenly blessing and grace.” Does that mean anything to you?

That, if we want to share the full grace and blessing of the Mass, we must partake of His Most Sacred Body and Blood?

BE MINDFUL, O LORD

Precisely. And now here’s a very thoughtful prayer following. The next prayer, you know, is a prayer for the Holy Souls in Purgatory. It’s almost as though you suddenly think, “But there are all the Holy Souls in Purgatory. They cannot now partake of the Body and Blood of Christ, but I want them to share as much as possible in the graces and blessings of the Mass. So, let’s say a special prayer for them. And you do: “Be mindful, O Lord, of Thy servants who have gone before us and sleep the sleep of peace. To them, O Lord, and to all who rest in Christ, grant, we beg of Thee, a place of refreshment, light and peace.”

The next time you find yourself faced with thoughts of death, do your thinking in the spirit of the Mass. This little prayer tells you what death is, the sleep of peace, rest in Christ, a place of refreshment, light and peace. Certainly not the terrifying thing we so often picture it. You ought to intensify this Memento for the dead in all your Masses these days, for so many grand young fellows are facing death, and so many left behind feel keenly the loneliness and heartache of their death. Pray God to give to every fallen fighter “rest in Christ”; and pray God to give to those who mourn the full, deep Catholic understanding of death, a release, a going home, a completion, an entrance into eternal life, the door to life’s only success.

TO US, ALSO

Rather naturally after a prayer for those who rest in Christ, we think of ourselves, for in that, too, all men are one, that all of us one day must die. “Nobis quoque peccatoribus . .” to us also, sinners.

The priest says that out loud, doesn’t he?

Yes. There hasn’t been any open call to attention now for some time. This raising of the priest’s voice may act as a gentle recall from any-what kind of distractions did you call yours?

Uniform distractions.

I remember one old priest who had developed the habit of slyly turning his head at this “Nobis quoque peccatoribus,” as though to say, “See here, I mean all of you.” What do we ask for us sinners? Depending on your point of view, it’s either a very humble prayer or a very daring one. We ask merely “some part and fellowship” with the Apostles and the Martyrs, with John and Stephen and Matthias and all the rest of them. We ask to be “admitted into their company” rather more than company, into a sharing of their lot, a sharing of their closeness to God and their happiness. That’s asking quite a bit. You know how hard it is to get into some select clubs, don’t you?

I’ve been blackballed three times by one group.

You won’t be blackballed by this group, the club of the saints, even though they are the aristocracy of the ages, the really great of all time. Don’t forget, ever, the thing that makes them great, not money, not position, not genius, but one thing only, their Christ-likeness, the growth of the Christ-life within them, the modelling of their lives on the Life of Christ. Don’t forget this either: no matter what anybody tells you, the Saints are all grand people, lovable people, the happiest of all God’s children both on earth and in heaven. Some part and fellowship with them means making their ideals your ideals, means that you have to develop a club loyalty, that you cannot do anything to give a black name to the club of saints. “Nobis quoque peccatoribus.” I wonder if you know how funny it all is, in a way, Father. We’re sinners, we’re weak. A fellow like myself can hardly keep his mind on the Mass, and yet we’re encouraged to aim so high and to get so high. And the funniest thing of all is that in spite of all our weakness, we know it can be done.

THROUGH HIM AND IN HIM

It can be -as this prayer also tells us-”through Christ Our Lord, through Whom, O Lord, Thou dost ever create all these good things, make them holy, bless them and give them to us. . . .”

What are all these good things?

I don’t know. I guess just about everything that goes to make up human life. We are coming to the end of the Canon, to the end of the up-sweep of the Arch. “We Give Christ to God.” We have included all men and all angels in the Mass and now in a broad, generous gesture we include all things. We’re feeling grateful, we’re feeling humble. We’re in a spirit of deep reverence, and suddenly that reverence swings out to embrace all the grand things that God gives us and blesses in the giving. Food and clothing and homes and flowers and trees and the air we breathe and music and books and the company of friends and the companionship of animals-oh, all the million and one little things and big things that make life liveable, loveable, adventurous, complete. We feel a spirit of reverence for all created things, because they are God’s and because they lead us to God. Take up the Roman Ritual sometime and see the prayers for the blessing of all created things. There’s a blessing for water and wine and foods and flocks and fruits and crops, a blessing for machines, a blessing for every God-created and man-made thing. They are all included in this prayer.

Then with all God’s goodness in mind the priest closes the Canon of the Mass with a grand hymn of praise- “Through Him and with Him and in Him is to Thee, God the Father Almighty, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, all honour and glory, forever and ever.” As he says this prayer the priest takes the Host in his fingers and makes the sign of the Cross five times over and around the Chalice: “through Him”-a sign of the Cross; “and with Him”-a sign of the Cross; “is to Thee, God the Father Almighty”-a sign of the Cross; “in the unity of the Holy Spirit”-a sign of the Cross; “all honour and glory for ever and ever.” And then the priest lifts up both Host and Chalice, as though to say to us: “Here in Host and Chalice are contained all the good things of life, all united in the gift of Christ.”; and to God: “Here, God, is contained all praises, all honour. In no better way can we offer You the honour and glory that is Your due than by offering You the Body and Blood of Your own Son and with it the fullness, the consecration of every Catholic life.” And you answer?

Amen with all my heart and soul.

GOD NOW OFFERS

Right. That Amen of yours is a big one. It’s your way of making all the words and actions of the priest at the Altar your own words and actions. It’s your way of putting period to the whole offering part of the Mass. It concludes the “We Offer Christ to God,” and it’s an opening into the “God Gives Christ to us” part which begins with the Our Father. It’s the end of what some authors call the “Sacrifice- Offering” and the beginning of the “Sacrifice-Banquet.” We’ve been offering Christ and now we certainly ought to want to receive Christ. That’s the theme of the rest of the Mass from the “Give us this day our daily bread” to the words of the priest as He places Christ on your tongue, “May the Body of Our Lord Jesus Christ keep your soul unto life everlasting. Amen.” “May this mingling and consecration of the Body and Blood of Our Lord Jesus Christ avail us, who receive it, unto life everlasting.” Us who receive it-how meaningless is this beautiful prayer for those who just do not bother to gather about the banquet table that God Himself spreads for us. “Let not the receiving of Thy Body, O Lord Jesus Christ, which I all unworthy dare to receive, turn to my judgment and condemnation, but by Thy loving kindness may it avail to safeguard and preserve my health of body and soul.” And yet another: “I shall receive the Bread of heaven and I shall call upon the name of the Lord.” And certainly calling upon the name of the Lord will be much more effective when you have the very Son of God within you and the lips of the Son of God, speaking for you.

Even the “O Lord, I am not worthy” is so much more pleasing to Our Lord when spoken by one who, in spite of a keen sense of his unworthiness, still “dares to receive” the Body and Blood of Christ. It shows such a trust in the mercy and goodness of God. It shows such a reliance on the Grace of God. It shows such a love of Christ and such a desire to be one with Him, to be united with Him. It’s such a Catholic thing to say: “Look not upon my sins but upon the Faith of Thy Church,” and then go ahead to welcome Him “on the knees of our hearts.”

All these prayers in the Banquet part of the Mass are rich, simple, beautiful, but they lose so much of their meaning if we are not partaking of the banquet, if we just stand outside the window and look in on those who are breaking the Bread of Christ with God. I’m going to pray every day for you that, if you ever do find yourself just standing outside looking in on the feast, that you’ll be so filled with envy for the table-companions of God, so filled with longing for the Bread of Heaven that you’ll just have to burst in and find yourself a place at table. Just look at these two thanksgiving prayers in the Mass:

“Into a pure heart, O Lord, may we receive the heavenly food that has passed our lips. Let it not be only the Gift of a day but the Eternal Medicine of our souls.”

“May Thy Body, O Lord, which I have received and Thy Blood which I have drunk cling to my very heart, and grant that no stain of sin may remain in me whom the pure and Holy Sacraments have refreshed.”

PAX DOMINI . . .

Now let’s get ourselves in focus a minute. We’ve already covered several Dominus Vobiscums. The first was a call to attention to take part in the Introit. The second brought us to attention for the prayer of the day and the lesson of the day in the Epistle. The third brought us to our feet for the Orders of the Day in the Gospel. The fourth called us to put all the energy of our minds on the Offertory prayers, the offering of the bread and wine and ourselves. The fifth at the beginning of the Preface was like a trumpet announcing the coming of Christ Himself. Now the sixth, just after the Our Father, is an invitation to gather around the table, to become one of the “familiares,” one of the intimates, one of the family of God in the family banquet that only God could devise with Christ as our food.

That it’s rather a special Dominus Vobiscum is clear from the change of form. This time it’s “Pax Domini sit semper vobiscum.” “May the peace of the Lord be always with you.” Not only individual peace, but especially the peace of the sons of God, the peace of the intimate family of God.

A FAMILY FEAST

You’ve often noticed that little cloth that hangs from the priest’s left arm, haven’t you? The maniple, it’s called. Actually, it’s a napkin, and now you can see why. The priest is preparing to serve at the banquet table of God. God Himself is the Host, sitting like a real and true Father, Our Father, at the head of the table. The priest, not as a hired servant, because it is too close and intimate a banquet for any outside the family to be present, but rather in the place of “the dearly Beloved Son,” in the place of Christ, takes the Bread of Life, breaks and distributes, not to the guests, for there are no guests, but to the children of God, gathered around the family table.

That’s a long sentence, I know, but I can’t break it up for you. As you follow the priest through this part of the Mass, think of the love that should unite the children of our common Father. Think of all those who should be members of one family but have forgotten, or do not know their father. It’s a sad thing to be an orphan, to have lost a father. It’s a still sadder thing not to recognise your father, not even to know that you have a father who loves and will go on loving. It is a terribly sad thing once to have known and loved a father and then to wander from him, to have forgotten home and father. As you think these thoughts, pray that all may yet be one, one family with Christ in God.

ONE WITH CHRIST IN GOD

Look around the table. You’re a worker, and beside you, sits an employer. You are but brothers, children of the one Father. There’s a coloured man across from you, there’s a Filipino, a Chinaman, a Japanese. You are brothers, children of the one Father. You are American. Around the table sit those of all nations, and all are brothers, members of the same family, children of the same Father, feeding on the same Heavenly Bread. Look at the faces around about you and the hands-there’s so much to be learned from human hands. You drink from the same Chalice. You eat from the same dish. And the Body of Christ and the Blood of Christ make your souls strong with the same life, the Life of Christ; make your hearts beat with the same love, the Love of Christ. Look just a little more closely and, if your eyes are keen, suddenly you see every face light up with a new brilliance. Somehow or other, they are no longer black, or brown or yellow or white faces. They are no longer English or Irish or German or Russian or French. They are no longer rich or poor, educated or ignorant, labourer or employer. They are all the face of Christ. In every face you see Christ. You must, for that is the family resemblance. In every heart you see Christ. And Christ within you calls to Christ within all men, and you love all men, and you are one with all men, for you love the Christ within them, and all of you, all of us, are Christ.

There’s your peace, peace through love, peace through Christ, a world peace that is a family peace, the peace and the love and the family unity that run all through the prayers of the Banquet part of the Mass. Still thinking about uniforms?

No. There’s an awful lot to the Mass, isn’t there, Father?

THE VEIL

I should say so. We’re just skimming through it and missing so much because we are skimming, but time is short. One more thought about Communion. Don’t stop following the Mass after Communion. Just at this part of the Mass, the pace is rather leisurely. There’s time to think as you say the few little prayers the priest has to say as he purifies the Chalice. You notice he puts the veil back over the Chalice before going on with the Mass. I wonder why?

Out of reverence?

Exactly. We do draw a veil over things we love and reverence, don’t we? The veil over the Tabernacle because it’s the home of Christ. The veil over the Chalice because it contained the Blood of Christ. The veil, the symbol of reverence for something sacred. Suppose I were to ask you which is more sacred, you yourself, or the Chalice, or the Tabernacle?

Well, Father . . .

For heaven’s sake, say it, say it. You are. By far more sacred. You are a flesh and blood chalice, a flesh and blood tabernacle. And the same is true of every one who has been with you at the banquet table of God. I could actually genuflect in reverence before every one of you, and every one of you before every other flesh and blood tabernacle of the Most High. So reverence, reverence for yourself and every part of you, body, soul, mind, heart; and awe and reverence for every human being who becomes a Temple of the Holy Spirit.

The Mass goes hurriedly now. There’s a Dominus Vobiscum that calls you to take part in the last public prayer of the Mass, the post-Communion prayer. There’s another Dominus Vobiscum that calls you to attention for the Ite, Missa Est, Go, the Mass is ended, and your fervent answer, Deo Gratias. Thank God. Thank God for Christ. Thank God for the Last Supper. Thank God for Calvary. Thank God for the Mass. Thank God for Christ within you. Thank God for the life of Christ that you are privileged to share. Thank God for the growth of that life within you. Thank God for your adoption into the family of Christ. Thank God for the name of Christ which you bear. Thank God for the Grace and help and strength of Christ. Thank God that you have been chosen to carry on the work of Christ, to complete the suffering of Christ, to live the life of Christ, to co-operate with Christ in Christ’s work. Thank God for the knowledge that even though you must leave the church, you may still share in every Mass being offered everywhere throughout the world.

Then bow your head to receive the blessing of God that you may be strong to live the Mass. “Benedicat vos omnipotens Deus, Pater et Filius et Spiritus Sanctus.” May the Almighty God bless you, Father and Son and Holy Spirit.

SONS OF GOD

Actually that should finish the Mass, but there’s one last Dominus Vobiscum before the Last Gospel. To keep up our former comparison, the Gospel of the Mass is Orders of the Day. The Last Gospel, almost always the same first Chapter of St. John’s Gospel, is your General Orders. In a few short sentences, “it’s the whole history of the world, the astounding history of the love of the Omnipotent God for his unworthy children. In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.” Before time began, before the world was, before there were trees and mountains and oceans and lands, away back into the unmeasurable reaches of Eternity, God; and He Who was to become Christ was God, the Word of God, the Son of God from all eternity.

“All things were made by Him and without Him was made nothing that was made.” The whole story of Creation, beautiful in God’s generosity, sad in man’s sin. And then the unbelievable story of Bethlehem, of God so loving the world that He gave His only begotten Son, the sad reflection of Calvary, and the strange indifference to Divine Love that is the mysterious blemish of mankind throughout the ages: “He was in the world and the world knew Him not. He came unto His own and His own received Him not.” And His own still do not receive Him.

“To as many as received Him He gave the power of becoming born not of blood nor of the will of the flesh, nor of the will of man, but of God. And the word was made Flesh and dwelt amongst us. And we saw His Glory, the Glory of the only-begotten of the Father, full of grace and of truth.” To as many as received Him He gave the power of becoming sons of God. Deo Gratias?

Deo Gratias. I’ll mean it the next time I say it. And about those uniforms. . . .

Forget them. O rather thank God for them and the men who wear them, for they forced you to learn more about the Mass. And if you ever see Mrs. Murphy. . . .

It was Mrs. Williams, I tell you. . . .

Tell her thanks, too, for it seems her hat first made you realize that you have a mind good for something besides wandering. Good-bye or, rather, Dominus Vobiscum.

Good-bye or, rather, Et cum Spiritu tuo.

Nihil Obstat:

P. JONES,

Censor Deputatus.

Imprimatur:

@ D. MANNIX,

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis.

Night Ride

BY PHILIP F. ROONEY

INDEX

CHAPTER I

It was now so long since that few remembered how it began. It had been a small thing, more than likely: the price of a horse that had turned out to be a rogue; the death of a dog caught red-fanged at the harrying of sheep; stinging words coined in the heat of fair-day whiskey.

And the succeeding years had added the bitterness of petty squabbles-wrangles over badly maintained boundaries, a dragging right-of-way lawsuit, the souring acid of imagined wrongs. Not even James O’Byrne clearly remembered all the details of the feud; he only knew that he was an O’Byrne of Meedin Hill, and that between him and the Hogan’s of Castlelost was bitter and ancient enmity.

Coat collar upturned against the keen nip of the easterly wind, the leaf of his stiff hat drawn forward over his lean, frosted face, he swung loose-footed down the narrow byroad.

“I should about meet her at the cross if she doesn’t take it into her head to cut back by the fields from Tullaghanstown,” he said, an unexpected smile softening the hardness of his eyes and mouth as a gleam of wintry sun mellows the stiff outlines of frost-bound trees.

Out of the by-road he came smartly, and stopped on the crown of the ringing highway.

“Hello! If it isn’t Dad.” The girl on the upstanding bay checked her mount’s tired walk and smiled down at him. “Don’t tell me you’ve come all this way just to meet me.”

There was more than a hint of nervous expectancy in her hurried voice, and a lack of ease in the fluttering of her gloved hand to the coil of dull-gold hair that had escaped from under her hat.

“We’d a wonderful day, simply wonderful.” Her wide, dark blue eyes were on him uneasily. “The biggest meet this year; a glorious run from Raheen out to Carronmore and across by Bellewstown.”

“And Sheila handled that big mare of yours like an old hand, sir.” Barry Hogan stroked his fretting hunter to quietness, and joined easily in the conversation.

“When I saw her ride for the big double by Raheen, I can tell you my heart stood in my mouth; but she made the old mare jump like a cat an’ kept her there right to the kill.”

For a tense moment O’Byrne did not reply; his eyes went contemptuously from the uneasy roan to the slim, dark youngster in the saddle.

“I’m beholden to you, Mister Hogan.” His voice was coldly inimical. “I’m thankful to ye, to be sure, for your fine opinion of my daughter and of my horse; but have ye know that when I want the praise of a Hogan from Castlelost I’ll ask for it. Good day to you, mister.”

“Dad, please!”

“Sheila.” Barry Hogan’s easy voice soothingly smothered the girl’s angry protest; his dark, steady eyes caught her’s warningly; beyond a hardening of the cheek muscles in his tanned face he showed no sign that he had heard the older man’s insult. “Get someone to have a look at the mare’s pastern tonight, and if you want any advice just, ask me. ‘

There was the ghost of a smile on his lips as he gave the roan its head, and clattered down the road, a smile that O’Byrne savagely sensed without seeing.

“He’s a Hogan, Sheila, an’ isn’t that enough for you.” So, he answered the girl’s protests as he strode down the homeward road, the mare’s rein loosely across his arm, his step crisp and even, his trim back stiffly firm for all his five and fifty years. “It’d be hard for me to take kindly to the sight of a Hogan and a daughter of mine an’ them as thick as two thieves. Wouldn’t it, now?”

Sheila swayed easily in the saddle and leaned over to touch his squared shoulder. She was not smiling now, and the rising colour in her sweet face owed little to the thundering excitement of the hunt.

“Barry’s a decent lad,” she protested, “and even if he is a Hogan, you can’t expect me not to be friends with him just because you didn’t pull well with his poor father. God rest him.”

They had reached the gateway of the long, rambling farmhouse, and as he helped his daughter out of the saddle, O’Byrne’s hand tightened affectionately over her slim fingers.

“You’re a plucky girl to talk like that to your old father,” his weathered face creased in a warm smile.” “But I know best, Sheila; I know best.”

Erect and slim she faced him in the cobbled yard-way, straightly meeting his anxious eyes, her riding whip beating out an uneasy tattoo against her riding boots.

“Do you, dad?” she asked slowly, very slowly; and there was a note of doubt in her voice.

“Of course I do, girleen. Run in now, you must be tired out.” He bent down stiffly and ran a searching hand down the mare’s leg. “I’ll look after Grania for you just as well as any of the great horsemen from Castlelost.”

When he had seen the mare safely stabled, O’Byrne turned back to the house. In the darkened, hallway, as he paused to light his pipe, a husky voice spoke out of the shadows.

“There’s a visitor waiting for you in the big room, Mr. O’Byrne.” Danny Magennis, the yard man, came down the unlit passage. “Mr. Roger Derham of Durhamstown it is; an’ if I was in your boots I’d be off in to him before he’s able to see the bottom of yer whiskey bottle. An’ be the pipers of Moses that won’t take the same gentleman too long.”

O’Byrne pushed past to the living room and flung open the door. In the deep armchair by the glowing wood fire, a slight, youngish-old man in mud-spattered riding clothes sprawled lazily. At his elbow stood an almost empty bottle and a glass liberally filled.

“Good-night to ye, Derham.” O’Byrne eyed his unexpected guest coldly. “I didn’t know you were here.”

“I made myself at home.” The flush of liquor showed dully in Derham’s pallid, peaked face; a lock of muddy-fair hair fell damply across his narrow forehead. “Magennis found the whiskey for me, an’ I helped myself to a drink-or two.”

O’Byrne pulled up a chair to the fire and sat down heavily.

“About that field,” he began bluntly. “Did you make up your mind to sell?”

Into Derham’s close-set, faded eyes came a gleam of malicious amusement.

“I’m selling all right.” He tilted his glass and half-emptied it. “It’s out of the way for me, and I might as well sell if I get a good price. But you’re not the only buyer in the market.”

“The field is right between your farm and young Hogan’s, an’ he might give me a better price for it; it was his father’s field, and the young lad might spring a good price for the sake of getting it back.”

The ruse worked even better than Roger Derham had dared to hope. Angry colour flared sullenly in James O’Byrna’s face; his firm lips hardened to a thin, dour line.

“I’ll buy,” his voice snapped like a whip lash. “The field suits me, an’ I’ll buy it. We’ll look over it tomorrow morning, and I’ll offer you a fair price.”

CHAPTER II

There was, Barry Hogan thought, an air of emptiness about the house this morning. Back of it, the wide fields stretched away cold and grey-green with the dour bleakness of late winter. The solid lines of the house stood out harsh and clear against the leafless wintry trees. The shrill barking of the young terrier pup in the cobbled yard cut shrilly across the still frosty silence.

“Here, young fellow!” Barry’s fingers teased the dog’s ears; his firm mouth twisted in a kindly smile. “What are you kicking up the row about? Feeling lonely, are you ?”

He lifted the dog and swung it into the crook of his arm.

“You’re a fine lad, Bran.” His fingers slid down. the pup ‘s fine mask, and pinched the firm, straight legs.

“You’ll make a fine present for a fine little lady.”

As he spoke, there was before him a picture of Sheila O’Byrne, as he had last seen her; slim and graceful in the saddle of the big hunter; her eyes starry with excitement, her face flushed against the dead gold of her hair.

The dog still in the fold of his arm, he crossed the yard to the stable door, and in five minutes he appeared again, leading a big, powerfully boned roan gelding ready and saddled.

He was swinging into the saddle when his house-keeper hailed him from the kitchen door.

“Will you be away long, Master Barry,” she asked. Arms akimbo, she stood in the doorway, her broad, middleaged face creased with disapproval. “With all the men away in the lower fields, it does be powerful lonely on a body to be in this house all on their own.” She wielded her head determinedly. “I said it before, an I’m saying it again, that there’s a mistress wanting in this house.”

Barry’s deep laugh had a happy ring.

“Hannah, you’re my heart of corn.” He smiled down at her. “With all the advice you’re so fond of giving me that’s the best I got yet-and I’m going to take it.”

He was laughing softly to himself as he broke the gelding to a smooth canter down the narrow sunken road, and in his voice, as he called the dog sharply to heel, was a lilt of happiness.

After a moment’s indecision he decided to turn right towards Bellewstown, and his choice was lucky, for on the rutted road that skirted Tullaghanstown bog he overtook Sheila returning from a morning canter.

“Good morning to you, lonely lady.” Barry smiled gaily as he ranged alongside, the drum of his horse’s hooves deadened in the peaty softness of the road. “You look as lonely as a snipe, all on your lee lone, as Hannah says.”

Sheila reined in her mount, and gave back his smile warmly.

“And you look as lazy as-as Barry Hogan,” she countered. “And could anyone look lazier than that? Haven’t you any work at all to do, lazybones’?”

“Plenty. But this morning I’m out to do good turns to lonely folk instead.”

Smiling, he sat easy in his saddle, the clean lines of his shoulder relaxed under the rough tweed of his coat; his thick, black curls bare to the nipping wintry wind.

“I brought you a little present.”

Bright-eyed, Sheila watched him as he swung lightly to the ground and lifted the pup that had trotted up, tongue aloll.

“He’s a clean legged little lad is Bran, Sheila; with a good drop of blood in him. His dam won half a dozen show prizes, and his father had more fight in him than a tinker’s lurcher.”

“Thanks, Barry; thanks indeed.” Sheila cradled the pup against the pommel of her saddle, and let his pink tongue flicker over her ungloved hand. “We’ll be great friends-Bran and I.”

As she spoke, a snipe rocketted suddenly from the verge of the bog, and Bran exploded into excited action. Yapping shrilly, he pulled clear of Shelia’s hands, and launched himself on to the roadway. His hind paws slashed across the horse’s neck; and quickly, so quickly that Shelia had no more than time to snatch at the looped reins, her mount was streaking down the road in a bolting, terrified gallop.

“Run him out. Barry screamed the words as he sprang to his own mount. “Ride the head off him! Don’t try to check!”

He spoke too late. As his big roan fencer stretched out in a tearing gallop after the runaway, Shelia bore heavily on the reins. Her mount checked, spun and gathered with the perfect ease of long practice on the hunting field, and took the low hedge that guarded the bog, in a long, raking jump.

“She’s done.” Barry Hogan’s eyes narrowed to mere slits; the line of his mouth hardened to iron. “One slip, and she’s gone.”

There was one bare chance, and he took it. His heels rapped sharply in his horse’s ribs as they rose to the fence, and drove forward slant-wise in a desperate endeavour to cut across the runaway’s path.

A bog-hole, water-filled-more dangerous than the water jump of Aintree-showed before them, was passed in a crisp, breath-taking leap. Twice on the crumbling, treacherous peat they checked at a low turf-clamp, and as the big fencer rose gamely to the unaccustomed obstacles, Barry Hogan felt hope swell within him.

Now they were clear of the worked peat, and before them stretched the grass-coated, reclaimed bog-land. Hands down, heels down, every nerve alert, Barry was riding all out. Foot by foot he was overtaking the runaway; now they were almost level, and the drum of hooves rolled like distant thunder over the silent bog. Now they were level, racing neck and neck; the lathered runaway, the driving roan.

“Hold tight for the jolt.” Barry spat the words out of the corner of his mouth. “Hands and knees, and use your weight.”

He gathered in his own reins, and crouched forward in the saddle. To a split second he judged the time; his fingers locked desperately on the runaway’s head-straps; the two horses slid together to a sliding, plunging halt.

For a moment both Barry and Shelia sat silent on the blown, foundered horses. When Barry spoke again, his voice was sharp and forced.

“I’m sorry, Shelia.” His face was haggard. “It was my fault; mine and that darned dog’s.”

They brought the horses back at a walk to the road, and as they went slowly across the churned-up turf, Shelia turned in the saddle.

“Please don’t say that, Barry.” The colour was coming back to her white face, the fear was leaving her eyes. “How can you say it.” She paused, and then added simply: “You saved my life.”

Reaching the road-way, they dismounted to allow the horses a breathing space for recovery, and Shelia laughed shakily.

“I shouldn’t be allowed out alone, Barry.” She smiled up at him. “I need a keeper.”

“Barry Hogan was not smiling now. His eyes were very serious, his voice deeply grave.

“You need someone to mind you, Shelia,” he said softly; “and I’m willing and anxious to mind you now and always. May I be the one, Shelia?”

The delicate colour flared into Sheila O’Byrne’s face, her hand fluttered nervously to her hair, and her eyes were very soft and gentle.

“I won’t answer that just now, Barry.” She looped the reins over her arm. “You must give me time to think it over. And now I’ll walk home-alone, please, Barry.” She smiled suddenly. “Bran has deserted me already; he must have run home to your place.”

“It’s a danged shame to let land run waste like this, so it is.” JamesO’Byrne halted squarely on the headland of the broad, sweeping field, and scowled at Roger Derham. “What kind of a farmer do ye call yerself at all, at all. Briars an’ thistles an’ the dickens knows what else.”

Roger Derham laughed back easily at the complaining man. Very trim and dapper he looked in the fine grey tweeds that set off so well his trim slightness. He was handsome, too; but with a surface good looks that did not stand close examination. The dragged lines that marked his face, too plainly told of ill-spent years; the weakness of his chin gave too patent evidence of slackness of character; and in the close-set nearness of eyes, and the soft red fulness of underlip there was too little of manliness.

“It’ll be in the hands of a good farmer soon,” he countered. “If you think the price too high, young Hogan won’t.”

“Young Hogan ‘11never set his foot on this land, Derham.”O’Byrne’s voice crackled like a whip. “The price is high, but I’m no pauper.”

Roger Derham nodded slowly. The price he had asked for the field had been ridiculously high, and the surprise he felt at O’Byrne’s ready acceptance of it helped to harden in his mind a half-formed idea that had been there these many days.

“You don’t like Hogan much, O’Byrne.”

Derham was thinking swiftly, and scarcely heededO’Byrne’s harsh reply. The man who would pay so heavily to satisfy a personal spite, he reasoned, would not chaffer and bargain about his daughter’s dowry. And Shelia O’Byrne was a nice girl. Derham’s eyes narrowed in an effort of concentration. A pretty girl and a handsome dowry-that about summed up what he wanted. Of late he had been taking more out of Durhamstown than he had been putting into it.

“I didn’t know you hated him like that.” Derham’s eyes were keenly intent on O’Byrne’s face. “To tell you nothing but the truth, man, I wouldn’t have believed it only you say it yourself.”

He fumbled for his cigarette case, found and lit a cigarette.

“You see, O’Byrne,” he went on with elaborate carelessness; “like everyone else, when I saw young Hogan and your daughter so very much together, I thought you were all good friends. Sure, the whole countryside thinks that there’s the making of a match between them.”

O’Byrne’s face darkened with anger.

“A match, is it? A match between my daughter and that-that . . .”

“I’m glad I was wrong,” Derham cut in smoothly. He was smiling faintly as he knocked the ashes off his cigarette. “I’m glad there’s no truth in that. Shelia is too fine a girl to be thrown away on a young whipper-snapper like Hogan.”

He dropped his cigarette and trod it underfoot. Arms folded, he stood squarely before the older man, and now in his voice was a deep gravity of tone that would have passed for sincerity with a wiser and less prejudiced man than James O’Byrne.

“I’m very glad,” he went on slowly; “very glad. I’ve known Shelia many a day now, and it’s in my head this long time back that the only girl I’d ask to come as my wife to Durhamstown ‘ud be Sheila O’Byrne.”

He silenced O’Byrne’s attempted interruption, and went on evenly:

“Of course, Sheila knows nothing about this; I don’t play Hogan’s trick of trying to sweep a young, inexperienced girl off her feet.” His voice was now a nice blend of indignation and straightforwardness. “I did what any decent man would do, I came to you first. I’m asking you now, James O’Byrne, for your consent to my marriage to Shelia-if she’ll have me.”

He paused expectantly, and when O’Byrne did not immediately reply, added: “There’s another thing: Shelia is young, an’ this Hogan fellow has an oily tongue an’ a bit of a way with him; so if you give your consent, I’ll be expecting you to talk some of the foolishness out of the little girl’s head, and show her what’s the right thing for her to do.”

Taken unaware, O’Byrne stood silent; the very suddenness of the proposal bewildered him. All the ingrained caution of long experience prompted him to shelve the question-to play for time.

“It’s a big matter, Derham; a big matter.”

He was staring down the field, and his eye fell on a little terrier pup trotting up the grassy slope. Mechanically, scarcely heeding what he did, he snapped his fingers, and Bran, homeward-bound after an eventful run on the bogland, trotted up.

Tail wagging, brown eyes trustfully on the two men, the pup drew nearer. Derham moved impatiently, and Bran, sensing a game, jumped; his muddy paws raked along Derham’s trousers, leaving a dirty stain.

“You dirty little mongrel.” Derham stepped back. His impatience at James O’Byrne’s silence suddenly flared out in stark, ugly temper. Twice, three times his foot crashed into the pup’s ribs with brutal, killing force. “You filthy little brute,” his voice rose to harsh shrillness. “Take that!” Over the shrill scream of Derham’s voice, James O’Byrne suddenly heard the urgent clatter of horse’s hooves behind them, and. turned in time to see Barry Hogan come flying over the low hedge and thunder down the field.

“Easy there, Derham.”

In a single, lithe movement, Barry was out of the saddle and standing toe to toe with Roger Derham. One glance at the pup told him he had come too late, and a cold, destroying anger swept over him, draining the colour from his face, making iron of the firm line of his mouth, setting alight a frozen gleam in his eyes.

“You did this thing, Derham.” His voice was very low and had the chill of frost in it. “Why?” The question snapped like a crackling lash.

It was too late now for words, and Roger Derham knew it. What weakness was in him was not physical cowardice, and he did now the only thing left for him to do.

For a second he balanced on the balls of his feet as a fighter stands; then, arms aswing, he drove forward at Hogan.

“You asked for it, Hogan,” he grated, “and you’ll get it.”

Barry Hogan knew in that first enraged moment that he would have to fight as he never fought before to hold Derham. The advantage of weight was slightly with him, but Derham had dropped easily into the fighter’s crouch that bespoke the trained and experienced boxer.

In the dead silence, Barry could hear the shuffling of shoes on short grass as they circled cautiously; warily they sparred, Derham’s sleek, fair head sheltered in a curve of tweed-clad shoulder. Then came the “Slap Tap” of longdistance punches.

Then, suddenly, Barry exploded into swift action, arms swinging, he smashed through Derham’s guard.

The whirling moment’s crash of in-fighting brought back his failing confidence.

“That’s the idea.” His short-arm jabs thudded home in Derham’s ribs, breaking the smothering clinch. “I’ve got to fight him! Fight him right off his feet.”

They pushed apart, and now Derham was watching his opponent, boring cautiously, avoiding the punishing rushes, sending in punches with saving deliberation.

A full five minutes had passed, and Derham was winning easily. Barry’s swollen lips hurt fiercely, his eyes smarted under the trickle of blood that ran into them. Over the low drumming in his ears, he heard James O’Byrne’s harsh, delighted voice.

“That’s it, Derham; wade into him.”

But Derham was not to be hurried.

Taut as a strong wire, he danced out of reach of Barry’s driving left, jigging a second on his toes, he grinned ever so slightly. And in that unconcentrated split second, Barry jumped. The long, raking punch came straight from the knee to snap cleanly home on Derham’s jaw.

The anger went out of Barry Hogan as he stumbled pack and watched Derham sprawl heavily on the sparse grass.

“I’m sorry, sir.” He turned to James O’Byrne. “I’m sorry this had to happen.

“Get off my land.” There was triumph in O’Byrne’s voice as he noticed Hogan’s surprise. “Yes; it’s my land now, and I’m telling you to get off it.”

Slowly, Barry picked up the suffering, dying pup. As Bran’s tongue licked at his hand, his voice hardened.

“Derham deserved what he got.” He jerked his head in the direction of Roger Derham who was scrambling painfully to his feet. “Any man doing what he did, deserved it.”

James O’Byrne turned slowly. He spoke to Barry Hogan, but his words were a direct answer to the question Roger Derham had asked him fifteen minutes before.

“Be careful of what you’re saying, Mister Hogan.” The words came slowly, unevenly. “Remember when you’re speaking of Roger Derham that he’s the man who is going to marry my daughter, Sheila.”

CHAPTER III

The big living-room was silent save for the sullen splutter of the big wood fire and the sharp tap of wood on iron, as James O’Byrne knocked out his pipe against the grate.

“Did ye go for a long walk, Sheila?” He glanced back over his shoulder. “I was expecting you this hour past.”

Slowly Shelia pulled off her gloves, and crossed to the fireplace. Her forehead was puckered in tiny wrinkles of thought, her eyes were gravely steady.

“I met Roger Derham on the road beyond Durhamstown,” she said with slow directness; “and he asked me to marry him. Why didn’t you tell me that he had spoken to you, dad?”

All the doubts and misgivings that had assailed him since the previous evening now came back with fresh force to JamesO’Byrne. He had passed his word to Derham in a moment of spiteful temper, and by now he doubted the wisdom of his action.

“What answer did you give him?” His voice shook as he evaded the girl’s direct question. “What did ye say to him?”

“What could I say?” Sheila’s toe tapped nervously on the hearthstone. “What would I say but ‘no’ to such a goodfor-nothing scamp.”

She stood squarely before her father, her eyes steady upon him.

“Last night Roger Derham and Barry Hogan fought; did they fight about me?”

The direct question took her father of his guard; he fumbled at his pipe, evading her eyes.

“No, Shelia, no; ’twas nothing like that. It’s how Hogan was trespassing,” he lied,” “and he had words with Derham. There was always bad blood between them, so there was; and they came to blows.”

He pushed on sensing an opportunity for which he had long waited.

“I want to talk to you about young Hogan,’ Shelia. Ye’re too much together, so ye are; an’ people are talking, saying that there’s the making of a match between ye. Is that true, I ask you? Is it true?”

Shelia stepped away from the fireplace. Faintly, a fine scarlet glowed along the oval of her cheek, her soft lips were pressed to a thin red line.

“Please, dad,” she pleaded, “don’t make things too hard for me. I’m going out now where I’ll have room and time to think. When I come back I’ll answer your question.”

And before her father could speak again, she had passed out of the house and turned down the road into the gathering darkness of the wintry evening.

At the gate of the big ten-acre pasture she met Barry Hogan. Walking slowly across the rutted path, she halted before him.

“You fought with Roger Derham last night, Barry, she said plainly; “was that fight about me?”

As plainly, Barry answered her:

“No, Sheila; it was not.”

“I’m glad; very glad.”

The dusk was gathering very quickly, and her face was no more than a dim, pale oval in the deepening twilight. “Last night, Barry, you asked me to marry you.” Her voice was very low and very even. “Tonight I’m giving you my answer: I will.”

“But Derham-”

“We will forget Roger Derham, Barry.” Her voice rang clear and true. “We will forget Roger Derham altogether. But there is something else.”

She leaned back against the massive pier of the gate, and looked up into Hogan’s face.

“Father dislikes you, Barry; he dislikes you very, very much. And my father is becoming an old man-hard and set in his opinions as old men are, and he would never consent to our marrying.”

Her hand fluttered to the boy’s arm, stilling his muttered protest.

“No, Barry, dear; I’ll never marry without my father’s free consent. But this I promise you, dear: that I’ll wait for you until we do get his consent-as we will, some day.”

There was a song in her heart as she tramped down the homeward road, and a sparkle of spirited life in her eyes as she stood before her father in the cheery, lamp-lit room.

“I’ll not marry Roger Derham, father,” she told him firmly; “and I know that you’ll never force me against my will. About Barry Hogan-” She paused. “I promise you this, dad: I’ll never marry without your consent. I’ll never marry the man who wouldn’t be welcome inside my father’s door.”‘

Christmas was gone, and the dark days of winter were lengthening to welcome the spring. Already there was a keen freshness in the air and a promise of mildness to come.

In the house at Meedin Hill there was an unspoken understanding that Roger Derham’s name should not be mentioned; and James O’Byrne, content that Barry Hogan had no chance of becoming his son-in-law, did not press Derham’s suit on Shelia.

But with the reassuring memory of his daughter’s promise, and uneasy remembrance of her troubled voice rankled freshly in O’Byrne’s mind. Striding down the length of his fertile fields, examining the cropped strength of his stiff fences, waiting in the warm barn while the milk hissed smoking into the pail, he would recall with a glow of secret pride the soft affection of her eyes as she had given him her promise; then, with the chill hardness of sudden hail blotting out the sparse winter sun, he would hear again the marked hesitation of her young voice.

And at such a time, if he was alone in the quietness of the fields, his fine drawn face would frost over with anger, and something of the dark coldness of ice would come into his hard grey eyes as they sought the long, dim lines of Hogan’s house, nestling among the trees on the gentle-rise at Castlelost.

“Be hanged to you, Hogan.” Now there would be a hard uneven edge to the soft drawl of his voice. “Breed, seed an’ generation of you was rotten, but I have you now. There’s only one of yer rotten lot left, an’ he’ll get no welcome inside JamesO’Byrne’s door.”

But his boast lacked certainty, and there was a faint, uneasy questioning in his eyes as he watched his daughter quietly busy about the house. Humming softly at her work in the long, lamp-lit evenings, the bronze cap of her hair a gleaming, shadowed gold; there was a little of his own dogged obstinacy in the pretty determination of her softly pressed mouth.

She had firmness, too, as when her slim fingers steadied a too-spirited Grania and brought the lively bay to a decorous trot down the spring-bordered road. And about her at times was a secret gaiety that was dangerous, because it went deeper than the smile that flickered gleaming white against the cool freshness of her lips; deeper than the passing merriment that caused her eyes to sparkle as sparkles Lough Ennell when gentle wind and glinting Sun are together on the face of its waters.

As on the evening of the races at Crossakiel.

“You should have come, dad.” Tired and happy. she slipped into a low chair. ’Twas great racing. Johnny Mahon had the race of his life on Castle Gay to beat Major Cokran’s King of Munster. And the way Mrs. Irwin stole the race on Carronroe was worth walking miles to see; she rode the little mare all out from flag-fall to finish, and won with some of the best chasing riders in the country up against her.”

“They’re great horses.” O’Byrne’s eyes were on the cord he was binding round the handle of a whip. “Great horses an’ great riders. When it comes to riding over stiff country, you can’t beat the Meaths.”

Her delighted laugh was soft as the rustle of water in the gravelled throat of a stream.

“You can, and we did; Barry Hogan won the Moytown Handicap on Coolavin had with half Meath racing against him.” With smiling gravity, she ticked off formidable names against her fingers. “There was Winning Ace and Blarney Stone, Brassbound and White O’May, the Sparkler and Ben Rulbin. And for riders. Wasn’t there Lord Finglas that’ll ride White O’May in the National; Coleman, Matty Mullarkey, Tim Blake, an’ Bob Ferguson, him with the bad hand and the devil’s luck. And Barry Hogan beat them all.

The whip-cord snapped like rotten thread between his fingers.

“Ay! Beat them in bad going with the field labouring like plough horses.”

“Beat them on top of the ground, dad. Clean, hard racing, and crowded jumps.”

“An’ if he did. What do they know about real racing, anyway. Twenty years ago we knew what racing was; ’twasn’t hack riding over ladies’ country. Young Whipper-snappers aping the fine gentleman on fancy circus ponies. Ay!’

When she was gone from him and he was alone in the widening circle of firelight, an uneasy fear that he had lost forced itself against all his stubborn resistance.

Grimly he pictured the crowded, excited hill at Crossakiel; horses single footing from the saddling ring to the course; wind-whipped gaudy silk and gleaming satiny coats; smart hunting pink, and the creak of saddle leather.

And Barry Hogan! Too clearly he could imagine the youngster’s slim straightness swaying to the dancing step of the mincing roan, his keen dark face darker and keener against the crimson of his riding shirt, and the gay quarterings of his jockey cap, steady hands on the sawing reins.

Then the crowded charge from the starter’s flag; clever cautious riding, every sense alert, steadying a split second at the jumps, the perfect timing, the gathering speed as the field raced down to the last fence, the thundering run home.

He could see it all. Hogan, mud-splashed, spent and smiling, riding in between two pink-coated huntsmen, the crowd cheering a good win. A sight to please any girl. Ay! he could understand that.

His eyes hardened, his weather-beaten face furrowed into tiny wrinkles of thought. Hogan would beat him, unless, unless. . . .

“Andy Connor will lend you a mount if you want one for the next few weeks, Sheila,” he said suddenly after breakfast next day. “I’ll be wanting Grania myself.”

“You’ll be wanting Grania? What ever for, dad?”

“To ride.” He watched the smoke curl from his freshly-lit pipe, and prepared to lie glibly. “Grania’s no mount for you, girleen; that iron mouth of hers is a danger. I’ll ride some of the wickedness out of her before the point-to-point meeting at Ardnashee; then with a good rider up, she should about win a race that ‘ud get me a decent buyer for her, and a safer mount for you instead.”

There was a new lightness in his step and a glint of dour amusement in his eyes during the hours he spent preparing Grania for the Maxwell Challenge Cup. To Sheila’s questions, he returned evasive, non-commital answers; so that her interest had faded to chaffing amusement by the time the day of the race arrived.

CHAPTER V

“Here’s dad himself, Barry.” She was with Barry Hogan when he found her on the crowded hill. “He’ll tell you all about his mystery horse; I don’t even know who is riding Grania.”

“I’m riding Grania myself, Sheila.”O’Byrne’s eyes swept Hogan from gleaming riding boots to gaudy cap. “I wouldn’t trust a good horse with the milk-an’-water gentlemen jocks that spend their time circus parading now-a-days.’’

“Sound man, dad. We’ll show them how.”

As he listened to his daughter’s delighted, chiming laugh, James O’Byrne was certain at last that he had guessed aright; that by riding against Barry Hogan and beating him he would take from the younger man some of the glamour he had acquired in the girl’s eyes. But Barry Hogan’s face was very grave.

“Look here, sir.” He flushed awkwardly. “I don’t like to say it, but do you feel up to it? It’s a trier of a course-as stiff in its way as Punchestown-and it certainly wants knowing. This’ll be my fourth year racing over it, and I won’t feel any too happy till I bring Coolavin Lad safely past the judges.”

The real anxiety in the boy’s voice stung O’Byrne to cold, unpleasant anger.

“An ounce of courage is worth a ton of experience, Mister Hogan; I’ll be jumping so far ahead of you that I’ll be in no danger of coming down because some poor fool is too cowardly to ride his jumps,” he said bitterly; ‘but when the formal procession of riders and stewards had paraded down to the starter, he felt less sure.

He tensed his feet in the riding irons, smoothed the faded silk riding shirt that flapped loosely against his spare, elderly body, and eased Grania into the shifting nine of waiting horses.

A dangerous field, he thought. There was Maxy Carter, peak-faced and wizened, whispering in a soothing sing-song voice to his mount, the lovely-lined Kilvan; Masterson easing the raw-boned gelding that was forecast as a likely trier over the formidable jumps at Aintree in the coming spring; Lord Finglas on the three quarter bred Knight Commander, powerfully built, dangerous. There, too, was Barry Hogan, curbing the restless footing of Coolavin Lad, and catching the boy’s eye anxiously upon him, O’Byrne was glad of the clanging bell and dropping flag that sent them smoothly away.

They hurdled the first fence cleanly in a ragged, cautious line. Once over, the fighting for position began. Already Masterson had sent the Loafer to the head of the field, striding out powerfully on the firm turf. Kilkelly, the Army man, was giving his mare, the little Lilian, her head, and a reckless youngster, had pushed the awkward , sorrell outsider, Maypole, into clumsy terms with the leaders.

Clear of the field, O’Byrne held Grania to an easy pace. Still in his seat, hands down, eyes fixed on the ground before him, he barely heard the dim thunder of galloping hooves as the field broke up into separate, striving groups.

Right-handed, they swung into the open country, and at the water jump Knight Commander went out to join the leaders. A clear half dozen lengths now divided the first and second flights; beside him, O’Byrne could see Coolavin Lad fighting for his head; half a length ahead, Tim Blake, on Blarney Stone, was racing smoothly, waiting patiently, tensely; to his right he could hear the senseless, sing-song stream of cursing as Maxy Carter brought Kilvan abreast.

The formidable double showed before them; as he felt the mare’s sure, cat-like movement, the perfect placing of her changing feet, confidence surged over O’Byrne. They were racing now, overhauling the leaders. To the threatening thorn hedge they came with steady, controlled recklessness. A vicious dig of the heels sent Grania cleanly over, saved from the dull crash that told of the outsider’s fall.

Two miles from home. The keen wind slashed fiercely at O’Byrne, tearing the breath from his aching chest; his arms were tiring a little, but his hands were steady on the mare’s mouth as he put her over the stone wall in company with the leaders.

Slowly, so slowly, he drew ahead. Kilvan had fallen, and with her the striding Knight Commander. Tim Blake was waiting no longer, and Barry Hogan had given Coolavin Lad his head.

A mile to go. Suddenly Kilkelly sat up on Lilian, the reins slackened, the little mare slowed to a spent canter. Of the field of sixteen, only four were left in the first flight now: Coolavin Lad racing steadily on the outside; next to him, Masterson on the lumbering Loafer; Tim Blake crouched steeply in Blarney Stone’s saddle, riding dangerously close to Grania.

And Grania was racing less sweetly now. O’Byrne’s breath came in sharp, tearing gasps; the strained socket of his right shoulder ached unendurably as he strove to check the mare’s vicious left hand bore. Above the steady drumming hooves, over the muffled roar of the nearing crowd and the thundering blood in his ears, he could hear Blake scream shrilly at him.

“Ride him clear, ould fellow!” Blake’s eyes were steady on the ground before him, his knife-sharp face cold, concentrated, inimical. “Ride her clear, dam’ you.” she’ll cross at the corner jump an’ have us all down.”

“Ride her clear!” ‘O’Byrne’s tortured chest wheezed for air; he canted sharply in the saddle and fought the mare’s pulling head. He’d ride clear all right! His heels thudded angrily into Grania’s ribs, the mare drove forward, checked, rose recklessly to the bristling jump.

Even before he heard the crashing thud as her irons slashed through the stiff thorn, O’Byrne knew that she had failed, and bunched himself for the sickening fall that sent him under the feet of the watchers at the jumps, safely clear of the hurtling, killing irons. Dazed and shaken, he saw the riderless mare check the field, saw Hogan drive out Coolavin Lad for the thundering run home to certain victory.

He was limping stiffly, his face grey white under the caking mud, when Sheila and Barry Hogan found him amongst the hard-faced horsemen whose interest in point-to-point racing lies in the buying and selling of promising bargains.

“I’m all right, girleen; all right, I tell you.” His voice was sharp and testy. “The mare ran bad-tempered and jumped dangerously. But I’m rid of her now, and Matty Kivlehan is welcome to the bargain he got in her.”

“You sold her, sir?” Relief rang tactlessly in Barry Hogan’s voice. “I think you did well. She was no mount for Sheila; and Tim Blake says he’d as soon race beside a mad dog.”

Sheer rage clutched chokingly atO’Byrne’s throat, the wrenching pain of his bruised body was suddenly shot with tiny flames of fury.

“I sold her to buy better. I bought O’Riordan’s Leitrim Belle, an’ though you won that race today, young fellow, you’ll find that Leitrim Belle will be worse racing company for you than any mad dog when it comes to winning the County Cup at Hazelwood.”

CHAPTER VI

He was strangely glad, when Sheila left next day on a three weeks’ visit to a married cousin. She would, he felt, have probed to the heart of his sudden interest in racing, and would have seen that the long hours he spent working over Leitriin Belle owed less to any wish to own a good winner than to a growing desire to beat Barry Hogan at all costs.

Day after day he rode out the small, iron-grey mare; rode her over the stiff, wire-dangerous fences of his own land, over the deceptive stone walls of the higher country ‘round Killnagore, tested her across the crumbling banks and dangerous dykes of the boglands at Tullaghanstown. And with each day, he liked her better; his faith in her spare, compact frame grew steadily. At times, even, the dour purpose for which he bought her was overshadowed by vague memories of Tipperary Tim and Heartbreak Hill, of Sean Spadagh and Sergeant Murphy; but his determination to beat Hogan’s Coolavin Lad never left his thoughts for long. It warmed him with a soft glow of satisfaction as he rubbed down Leitrim Belle on the morning of Sheila’s return, the day before the races of Hazelwood.

“She’s a little beauty, Sheila; a little beauty.” His hand slid lovingly over the mare’s silken muscles. “There isn’t a thing in that race tomorrow that’ll be within a fence of her when she comes home. Mr. Hogan can say goodbye to winning the Cup now, so he can.”

“I’m glad she turned out so well, dad.” So interested was he in the horse that he failed to notice his daughter’s pale weariness. “Barry’ll be disappointed if you beat him in the Cup; he had hopes of pulling it off for the third year in succession and winning it outright.”

“Well, he won’t, my girl; he won’t, Roger Derham is coming over this evening to give Belle ‘a pipe-opener before he rides her tomorrow, an’ with him up, what hopes has the likes of Hogan?”

“Derham! Is he riding for you’? All the distaste she had for Roger Derham, and the fear she felt that her Tat* might think this a fitting time to mention Derham’s proposal again, showed in the girl’s tired voice. “Well, I hope he gives the Belle a good ride. I think I’ll rest for an hour or two; one of Mary’s children was ill last night, and I didn’t get much sleep.”

O’Byrne nodded absently, unheedingly; he scarcely heard her, so busy was he rehearsing the instructions he would give Roger Derham.

“You’ll want to take her clear out as soon as you can, Derham “ he said later, as the rider swung into the saddle. ‘‘Take her out at once and keep her there. .

“I know, old man; I know. You just leave it to me.” Derham grinned down at him, a crooked, shallow smile. “I’ll manage all right tomorrow. An’ now I’ll breeze the little lady down the field just to see how she moves.”

“Hyep!” His hand came down flatly, and the grey mare swung out smartly into the wide ten-acre field. She moved well, her rider swaying easily to her smooth, powerful stride; and watching them, O’Byrne almost forgot the rank smell of stale whiskey that hung on Derham’s breath, the glazed sickness of his faded eyes.

“Hep, girl.” Now they had circled the field, and Derham was putting her down the length of it. Straight down the gentle slope to the stiffly wired fence they went, now the rider canted forward, his heels went sharply back, the mare rose gamely.

It happened so swiftly thatO’Byrne could see no detail of it.

When the hurriedly-fetched shot gun shortened the broken-backed agony of Leitrim Belle, and Derham whitefaced, stuttering apologies, had gone, he stared dumbly for a moment at the dead horse, and then swung out savagely past the house on to the quiet roadway.

Darkness had come softly by the time his angry, aimless stride brought him to the sunken road that skirted Castlelost.

“You beat me, Hogan.” His teeth bit fiercely into his pipe stem. “I had ye whipped when bad luck and a drunken fool gave you the race.”

The long walk had tired him and he was glad to rest on the low wall. Before him the dim square of Hogan’s house lay in darkness, quiet save for the uneasy yapping of a restless dog. The disappointment in him hardened to hate.

“You’ll be a fine fellow tomorrow. Mr. Barry Hogan on Coolavin Lad, winner of the County Cup. No wonder Sheila’ll think you’re the grandest fellow in the world and that her poor old father is no more than a cranky old fool.”

In the darkness his eyes narrowed as they made out the stable that housed Coolavin Lad; he listened carefully to the dog’s fretful bark. The pipe died between his teeth, there was the moisture of nervousness on his calloused hands. He slipped softly from the wall on to the silent carpet of grass beyond.

It had been easy, much easier than he thought. The house was empty save for a sleepy and ancient housekeeper drowsing over her knitting at the kitchen fire, the dog had come quietly to his soft whistle-as dogs will, even to a slinking thief, glad of human company in the lonely night-and beyond a sudden, frightened snorting Coolavin Lad had been easy, too, had clip-clopped quietly behind him a half mile down the empty roadway, responsive to the swiftly-tied handkerchief that served as a halter.

“Take a little trot tonight, boy.” O’Byrne’s face was drawn and ugly, his voice harsh-edged and uneven. “A little canter tonight an’ you won’t be in much form for the big double at Hazelwood tomorrow.”

“H’up!” His heavy boot swung viciously, his unsteady laugh jarred after the startled, bolting gelding into the ringing darkness.

He hoped that Shelia would not be there to meet him when he reached home. Not that he was sorry for what he had done, his lips twisted in a grim smile as he remembered the flying, frightened hooves and pictured Hogan’s dismayed anger on the morrow. Yet he half feared meeting the steadiness of her eyes and knew that he would lose utterly if she suspected that he was responsible for interfering with Coolavin Lad.

“What has you up at this hour, woman?” He slung his hat on a chair and turned irritably to his elderly housekeeper.

“It’s Miss Shelia. Poor little Shelia. The woman’s nervously fluttering hands suddenly angered him. “The poor little girleen so bad and not a word of complaint from her, so bad that . . .

“What is it, woman? What is it. Quit gostering an’ say what’s wrong, can’t you.” His voice was harsh and strident with fear.

“Tis her throat. She was sick this morning an’ now she’s fair fighting for breath. It’s diphtheria, that’s what it is; it’s nursing them young whipsters of children of her cousins she got it, an’ now she’s dying herself.”

His fingers sank fiercely into the woman’s arm as he shot question after question at her.

“Sure, Magennis drove that Derham fellow into Mullingar an’ he isn’t back yet, so I couldn’t send him.” She shook herself free and fussed to the fire. “I sent Ellen Jane on her bicycle to Milltown for Dr. Gallagher an’ if he isn’t here soon it’s heaven help the poor little girleen upstairs.”

“I wouldn’t doubt you, woman.” Furiously he tugged off his heavy coat and crammed on his hat. “Doctor Gallagher is on his holidays this week past and that dunderheaded girl will never have the sense to find another doctor. I’ll away down to Gleesons of the Cross and get them to send a car to town for Doctor Mackay.”

As his flying feet hammered out the four mile run to Gleesons Cross his mind was washed clear of all thought save the stark image of his daughter’s danger and the need of immediate aid. Forgotten now was his hatred of Barry Hogan and his dour determination to lower the lad in Sheila’s estimation. He ran on blindly.

But now, as the Rock of Carrick loomed up out of the bare houseless countryside, and his breath came less easily, though but half his journey was done, another thought hammered through his mind.

“That drunken fool Derham. I’d have a doctor in half an hour only for him. He killed the Belle an’ he’s killing Sheila.”

He was running less easily now; the breath tore from his breast in great gasping sobs, blood drummed agonisingly behind his eyes so that the car was round the sharp corner and almost upon him before he saw the stabbing lights.

“Is that O’Byrne?” Mackay pulled open the door. “Jump in, man, jump in. Now take it easy.”

The car raced on into the darkness;O’Byrne. slumped weakly in the seat beside the doctor.

“Your messenger couldn’t find Gallagher,” Mackay explained curtly, “and rode into town for me. Lucky to catch me in, I must say. Ah here we are.”

Not even the doctor’s assurance that all danger was past had quite soothed James O’Byrne’s fears. For the tenth time he had tip-toed to her bedroom to watch a moment as she slept, and now he had returned again to the quiet of the midnight kitchen when a soft tap on the window brought him to the door.

“How is she, sir?” Barry Hogan faced him in the dim-light. “Is she . . is she out of danger?”

“She’s all right now.” He spoke softly fearful of waking her. “The doctor says she’s out of danger; there’s nothing to worry about.”

“I hate bothering you on a night like this, but do you mind if I put up Coolavin Lad in your stables?”

Something of the sudden fearO’Byrne felt must have showed in the defensive hardening of his face for Hogan went on hurriedly.

“I wouldn’t ask you but the Lad’s absolutely foundered and I don’t like to walk him on to Castlelost.”

They had reached the warm stables and Barry Hogan was busy over the ill-used horse beforeO’Byrne could trust himself to speak.

“What happened?” He held up the storm lantern and hoped fervently that his voice was steady.

“Hanged if I know.” Hogan’s eyes were on the blown horse. “I was strolling home from Killnagore when who should I meet but the Lad breezing along all on his own. I got hold of him and was walking him home when I met that little servant girl of yours on her bicycle.”

Busy with the gelding’s swollen leg, he failed to see the changing expression on O’Byrne’s face.

“She told me about Sheila so I rode over to Doctor Gallagher’s place; Gallagher was away so then there was nothing for it but a hell-for-leather, bare back ride into town to Mackay.”

They walked out into the still night and as he locked the stable doorO’Byrne broke the awkward silence.

“Coolavin Lad is a ruined horse, Hogan. He’ll win no race tomorrow, or any other day.”

“Oh, well!” Hogan turned up his coat-collar against the night air. “He won a good race tonight; a powerful race for big stakes.”

Then, suddenly, O’Byrne felt tired; tired as a spent rider in the testing third mile of a four-mile ‘chase, who sees the field draw ahead and knows that there is nothing left for him now but a slackened rein and a saving canter home.

“He did so; he did so, indeed.” He felt the fine rain on the night wind and suddenly made decision. “’Tis going to rain, rain heavily, Hogan, and maybe it ‘ud be as well for you to stay the night. I’m going to sit up till Sheila wakes in the morning and if you’d like to keep me company you’re welcome. Maybe she’d like to speak to you when she wakens.”

Then, slowly, he pushed open the house door and let Barry Hogan pass in before him.

********

No Door Between

BY DANIEL A. LORD, S. J

INDEX

Closed doors can be cruel things.

Indeed, a door is a sort of symbol of man’s distrust of his fellow men. When a man has slammed and bolted his door, he feels safe; but he has shut out his fellows-both those who come bearing arms and those who come bearing gifts.

There was a time when architects worked with intricate skill to make doors seem less final, less repelling. Craftsmen fashioned large and beautifully ornamental knockers that invited the visitor’s hand to stretch out and grip them. But knockers were soon resigned to the morgues of history. They were too emphatic, too demanding, too insistent; doors were made, not to be opened, but to be closed and securely locked.

Architects clothed doors with the warmth of carved wood and finely chiselled stone. They broke severe austerity into graceful panels that looked as if a hearty rap might split them and admit a glimpse of the people of the house. They made an art of the designing of doorknobs; then they neutralized that art with science-next to the doorknob they placed the pickproof lock.

Behind closed doors man has hidden his joys and his loves; behind closed doors he has also hidden his fears and his hates. Closed doors can be ugly things.

For long dreary centuries the doors of God’s heaven were sternly locked in the face of mankind. Once there had been an easy avenue connecting the Garden of Paradise with the eternal garden of God’s delight. Hand in hand along that avenue walked a man and a woman, richly happy, headed straight for the broad, wide-open doorway that would admit them into their eternal home. God, the Divine Householder, waited for the arrival of His children. One doorway to this eternal home He had already blocked, closed and bolted the door, the doorway through which the evil angels had in rebellion rushed headlong to the hideous kingdom of hell. Yet scarcely had He bolted that door with an eternal fastness when He opened the new door, and He smiled as He looked’ -down the gentle incline along which His newly created son and daughter were walking, passing through gardens and orchards in their journey from a swiftly passing paradise to a paradise without end.

And then God’s smile faded, for His son and daughter had failed Him. So-reluctantly this time, for He loved that son and daughter-God the Father barred the doorway to earth; with infinite yearning and divine regret He closed the portal in the faces of the children for whose sake it had been carved, for whose reception it had been flung open.

And the first man and the first woman, the first of the children of men, knew the cruel finality of a closed door.

That knowledge was terrible, for they could not see behind that door. They could not know that in the keeping of God the Son, God the Father had placed the key to that door. Only this they knew: that some day, somehow, that door would again be flung open by the master locksmith, who would lead them through the doorway that had been blocked by their sin and folly.

That first man and woman, driven from the Garden of Paradise, became homeless wanderers. They ate the bread of toil. In pain were their children begotten. The winters were bitingly cold, and the summers were scorchingly hot. And the first man and the first woman knew that they were indeed locked out of their Father’s house. Beggars, they lived at an unopened door.

Closed doors can be cruel things.

The Roman populace, greedy for the coins that they knew would be tossed to them the minute the good news came, waited outside the imperial palace.

Their eyes rested upon the huge iron door that was studded with bronze knobs, heavy with the weight of hinges, and massive with the security of shot bolt.

Somewhere behind that door the child of an emperor was being born, The mob was, grateful for such an event. It meant that free loaves would be passed among them. A sweaty-armed steward would probably knock in the head of a wine cask, and they could catch the red, vinegary wine in their cupped hands or their leather caps. Almost everyone in the mob had a friend or a relative in jail, and if the child should be a boy, the emperor, in a demonstrative gesture, might release a handful of the prisoners. At any rate, there would be blowing of trumpets and ruffle of drums and flying of pennants. And if the child was a male child, the emperor might even match the gladiators or turn the tigers loose on some of the captive barbarians.

So the mob watched the door greedily.

Several times it swung open at the forceful push of a sentry to admit a patrician. One of these nobles made a very obvious display of his distaste for the mob by holding his nose against the sweaty, unwashed odours about him. And the mob laughed good-naturedly at this insult.

Vainly they craned their necks in an attempt to catch a glimpse of what was going on behind that door. But no one of them was fool enough even to dream of trying to enter the palace. Maybe some Praetorian officer standing at a. remote window would hold the new-born child before the mob and would from that safe distance let them lift their eyes in awed respect and their voices in humble shout. But that would be all. It was fitting that the new-born child of an emperor should have the protection of a locked door. The common man from the muddy alleys dared not besmirch the nursery with his presence or inflict his insignificance on new-born royalty.

There was a flurry of excitement among the sentries at the door. A rasped order brought heels together and chins at sharp angle. Two brawny centurions sprang forward, and under the impact of their hairy arms the door swung slowly, as if reluctantly, open.

Framed in the doorway, luscious in velvet and flying eagle plumes, stood a herald. One step forward brought him out of the shadow of the doorway and into the light of the street. The brassy sides of the trumpet which he raised to his lips contemptuously tossed back the slant of the sun.

The trumpet blast ripped a gash in the air. Instantly the populace was brought to wire-edged attention. The herald swung his trumpet in gleaming arc to his hip, and then his voice, like the bragging of an insolent cock, sounded over the crowd:

“The prince is born. Your emperor has a son!”

The voices of the mob struck and rebounded from the walls of Caesar’s palace. Then, because they hoped that a shower of coin would follow the thunder of the herald’s voice, and because they honestly desired to see the new-born prince, the mob surged forward.

The herald’s thundering voice grew more thundering. “Bar the door!” he ordered.

The hairy arms of the centurions swung the door shut. And the crowd that was impelled by the mingling of greed and honest hope to rush forward, could do no more than see through the lattice of slanting, points of lances the closed door that cruelly barred their way to the presence of their prince.

The shrill notes of silver bugles sounded from the corners of the Temple and cascaded from stone terrace to stone terrace, dropping over the bent heads of the worshippers, who, grouped according to their rank, filled every court, from the court nearest the Gate of the Strangers to the sanctuary of the priests.

Again the bugles rained their silver coin of music. Every head bowed lower. For all knew that the high priest was about to enter the holy of holies. Alone he would stand in the presence of God, speaking to Him for the people, listening while out of the pregnant silence God gave His august commands.

The notes of the bugles fastened more tightly upon the people the silver chains of silence. The high priest lifted the long silken veil that covered the inner court where God waited for the coming of His representative. And outside, the people waited and prayed.

The Persian astronomer had long been impressed with the faith of Judea. He felt that only in the one God of the Jews could there possibly be found the explanation of the perfect unity of’ the stars in their ordered dance. And when he turned from stars to men, he was convinced that only the coming of a divine Messiah such as the Jews believed would come could raise man from his gutters and his traps and set him on the road that led to God. The astronomer had come to Jerusalem in the hope of being able to visit the Temple, to talk with some of the learned men, to sit in the cool shade of the porches of the house of Jahweh and read the promises written in the sacred books.

The great bronze doors of the Temple were shut. Across them were stretched bands of brass, and the surface was flat with the jambs, indicating that a bolt or heavy bar inside held the door securely shut. Temple guards stood at attention, their leather-andmetal uniforms dull and menacing in the gloom of the Temple’s high walls.

The Persian drew near the door, his respect deepening as he saw how carefully these Jews guarded their Temple, how rigorously they protected the sacred mysteries that lay within. Yet doubtless they would be happy to welcome a stranger who, in the frank hope that he would be permitted to bend his mind to the law and his knee to the great lawgiver, had come all the way from the East to listen and to learn.

He paused before the fast-barred Temple door. Probably there was a smaller, a secondary door by which he could enter.

With quiet dignity and humble eagerness he approached a guard. When, he asked, would the door be opened? When might a stranger enter into the presence of God’s learned, perhaps even find his way into the presence of Judah’s God?

The sentry’s loose, resentful lip curled in scorn. He spat into the dust of the street. His contempt was deliberate, an intended affront to this stranger who was a representative of the hated Gentile races; no doubt the stranger, prompted by some obscene curiosity, had come to look at the house of God in order to scoff.

The sentry insolently threw the question back. “When does this door open?” he said, leaning forward and touching the gate with the point of his lance. It was a gesture at once proprietary and threatening. The door was his, the true believer’s. And a spearhead guarded it from the profanation of the stranger. “When does it open?” repeated the sentry. “Never to a son of the outcast races! Never to an unbeliever!”

And while the silver bugles trickled their notes down the courts and down the stairs of the Temple, the Persian stood, disappointed, his eyes fixed sadly upon the door that shut out his hope of learning what he felt was the truth, and that barred him from those learned men who could lead him to his Lord. And he realised that closed doors can be cruel things.

During the happy days before his marriage to Mary, Joseph the carpenter busied himself with remodelling the little house in Nazareth that some remote ancestor had left to him. He strengthened the beams. He widened the windows, finishing them with shutters that swung so easily that even the gentle touch of the young Mary would be sufficient to open and close them without difficulty. He levelled the uneven floors. He fitted the cases against the walls and fixed a table that had swayed lamely because of a short. limping leg.

But it was on the door that he lavished special attention. That door was to him a symbol. it must be strong, he reflected, as he selected a piece of sturdy, seasoned cypress. It must swing open easily when pushed from within. It must resist the strongest arm that might push it from without.

After he finished the day’s work for his customers, Joseph remained in his little carpenter’s shop, and far into the early hours of the morning he worked on that door. This door must have, not hinges of leather, but hinges of iron, and sturdy, tested iron at that. With great care he chose the timber that was to serve as the crossbar, shaping it so that it would be stout and strong, balancing it on the spike in such a way that even the light touch of a maiden’s hand would be sufficient to cause it to swing down and hold the door immovable. It was to be a door that all the battering of a Roman cohort could not smash.

When finally he put the door in place-the finishing touch to the house he had remodelled for his maiden bride- he stroked it with approving fingers. Behind that door, he thought, she would be safe. And one day the Child would play in this house in safety, out of reach of all danger, for this door, once swung to and bolted, was assurance of security.

Mary and Joseph returned from their simple wedding. Their relatives, accompanied by the village’s lowliest flute player, escorted them to the threshold of the little house. Joseph took Mary’s hand and led her into her new home. Gently he closed the door. Firmly he swung the crossbar into place.

“Here you are home,” he said, softly, “and safe. And when He comes, He that is the Child of the Holy Spirit, that door will stand between Him and the dangers that stalk our city. No dirty hand of beggar nor grasping hand of thief, no soiling pagan touch, no envious claw can reach Him here. Behind that door, Mary, we are safe from the threat of strangers and from the intrusion of friends.”

Mary smiled. He was sweet to have thought so dearly of her and the unborn Child. And then her smile grew deeper and a little mysterious.

Would He, she wondered, want a door between Him and the world He was to save?

Doors can be such cruel things.

Bethlehem-and the slamming of doors, the banging of doors, the acid sound of voices behind doors that the owners did not intend to open.

Joseph hadn’t dreamed that a door could be so cruel. Almost, he felt, as if they had become human, like the householders, throwing back in cynical echoes the sound of his timid knock. Or were those echoes that he heard, the echoes of the laughter that followed his knock?

It was a mocking innkeeper that held open the door of his inn a few inches and surveyed the poor travellers. How absurd for a couple like this to come asking for lodgings in an inn that was housing wealthy merchants returned from Jerusalem, and relatives of the mayor of the village, who was taking advantage of the occasion of the census to hold a great family reunion in celebration of the marriage of his eldest daughter. The innkeeper slammed the door with a rude “no room,” and slapped the crossbar back into place.

Standing at the opened door-a broad, well-carved, heavily hinged door of the rich-Joseph realised anew that this successful merchant cousin of his despised him. This relative had made a fortune, and he did not like to be reminded that one of his relations, even though a distant one, was an unsuccessful carpenter. So when he had enumerated a dozen reasons for his not wanting to shelter a cousin who was so regrettably poor, the merchant swung the heavy door gently shut. And Joseph felt the sting of its quiet closing more keenly than he would have felt a slap on his cheek.

Doors everywhere, doors that shut in the sounds of happy singing; doors behind which men and women probably sat at table, drinking to friends and relatives; doors that gave every evidence of guarding the fine furnishings of the rich; doors that looked as if they were hiding, mercifully, the poor, shabby, broken furniture of the less fortunate. Joseph could only guess what lay behind these doors. He saw only the cold blankness of them as they were shut in his face, slammed in his face, insistently thrust against him, cutting off, as they closed, a feeble excuse or a jeering rejection.

There were that night in Jerusalem houses that rocked with mirth and hugged snug families in their warm shelter. But Joseph and Mary knew only the blankness and the cruelty of the doors of these houses.

A steep incline in the hill brought them to the cave that the shepherds had described to them.

Joseph looked at it and shook his head despairfully.

“We cannot stop here,” he said. “It would never do. This is a stable, a place for animals. . . . You in a stable, Mary? He come into the world on this dirt floor covered with the ancient dung of beasts? No. Let us go farther and see what better we can find.”

Mary only smiled wanly, but her sagging weight on his arm was answer enough. They could go no farther that night. She was too utterly weary. The Child was too, too close.

The stars, hanging in festoons. in the wintry sky. seemed almost within reach of their hands. Far towards the horizon a new star, bright as no other star that poised above them, was travelling across the purple vault like a messenger running full tilt on some pressing errand. Joseph’s gaze swept the landscape anxiously. On the nearby hill he saw the soft silhouette of a motionless flock, sheep at rest, the shepherds probably asleep somewhere close by. As he looked, he heard the gentle tinkle of bells. Probably a passing caravan, one of the many that moved from East to West, shuttling back and forth with the commerce of a busy and thrifty though adventurous people.

Joseph turned his eyes away. There was nothing for them but this cave that had lately been a stable; this, was their only refuge. A hundred fears thronged his mind. Would robbers thrust their rude, dangerous presence into the cave? Would the shepherds themselves choose to come here to revel when the sheep were safe and they bored with watching? Would it not be easy for men of the caravan, unscrupulous fellows who would slit a throat for the sake of a brass ring, to turn aside from the highway, burst into the cave, and fill the night with their oaths and press upon himself and Mary their dangerous company?

Joseph lifted his head in a gesture that expressed hopelessness, desire for something that could not be.

“If only the cave had a door,” he said, softly.

He turned and entered the cave, speeding his lagging steps in his anxiety to clear a space for Mary and the expected Child.

Mary had been leaning against the cold outer wall of the stable cave. Her glance, too, took in that landscape, purple and green and deeply blue under the garlands of stars. She too saw the shepherds on the distant hill. And now the music of a lone flute came to her like a wistful lullaby. She saw along the highroad the undulating sway of camels, a caravan coming from the West and heading towards the East. The white roofs of Jerusalem, now seemingly armoured in steel blue, covered, she knew, men and their families, old people who were impatient because the coming of the Messiah was so long delayed, young people who were dreaming of perhaps being in His army, women who were sighing for a God-Man to lift them to their feet, the poor who were wondering whether God ever thought of them.

They were all there, down those highways, along those unlighted alleys, on the slopes of those green-spread hills, in the little farms and the heedless villages-all the dear, thoughtless children of men that He was coming to save. Only a little while now, and He would be with them. Only a little while, and His yearning would reach out to draw them into the warm circle of His love, into the irresistible charm of His divinity, that would be clad in humanity’s dearest disguise. They there. . . . He here. . . . And between them. . . .

Oh! between them there must never be any obstacle. They must be free to come to Him, whether they be driven by want or drawn by affection, whether they be fleeing from enemies or running toward a friend, They must be able to find Him as easily as they could find one seated on a mount or in the prow of an open ship. Between Him and those for whose love He had broken open the gates of heaven, those for whom He would seal the gates of hell, those whose beloved names He had already placed upon the doors of many mansions-between these children and Him there must never be the smallest barrier.

With a yearning that she knew was not hers alone Mary stretched out her arms to embrace a needy world. Then she drew them back to her heart in an embrace that held close and dear the world that was within her, the Word Incarnate.

Joseph appeared at the open mouth of the cave. His face still mirrored his troubled heart.

“I should feel safer for both of you,” he said, “if there were a door to this cave.”

But Mary smiled at him with all the brave reassurance of her soul. She looked back briefly at the shepherds, the caravans, the marching soldiers, the villagers who were laughing or gambling or sleeping. And she touched the open mouth of the cave with tenderness.

“I am glad that there is no door,” she whispered.

And Mary walked into the cave to give the world the God Who was to fling open the doors of heaven, and with a lance open the door of His heart in endless welcome to the weary traveller-man.

Nihil obstat:

F. MOYNIHAN,

Imprimatur:

@ D. MANNIX,

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis.

********

Novena And Prayers To Saint Martin De Porres

PRAYER TO ST. MARTIN DE PORRES

INDEX

To be said by those in distress

In this pain and sadness which weighs me down and for which I can find no human support, I turn to you, Saint Martin. Be my friend and my protector and intercede for me with our merciful Father in heaven. Ask that my sins be forgiven and that I may be freed from the evils which burden and distract me. Give me your spirit of sacrifice that I may welcome whatever God sends me for love of Him who makes all things a means of holiness.

O Heavenly Father, in the name of your Son and of His Blessed Mother, and by the merits of your faithful servant Martin, help me in my great trouble and do not forsake me. Amen.

* * * *

PRAYER

Well done, thou good and faithful servant; because thou hast been faithful over few things, J will make thee ruler over many things, saith the

Lord.

V. Pray for us, Saint Martin de Porres.

R. That we may be made worthy of the promises of Christ.

* * * *

LET US PRAY

O God, the exalter of the humble, Who didst make Saint Martin, Thy confessor, to enter the heavenly kingdom, grant through his merits and intercession, that we may so follow the example of his humility on earth as to deserve to be exalted with him in heaven. Though Christ our Lord. R. Amen.

PRAYER FOR HUMILITY AFTER THE EXAMPLE OF ST. MARTIN DE PORRES

†

O God, Who hast given us in Thy Humble Son, Our Lord Jesus Christ, the model of all virtue and perfection, grant to us the virtue of humility. We think so little of Thee because we are so full of self. We cannot love Thee more until humility shows us our own nothingness and makes us rejoice in our complete dependence upon Thee.

Thou hast given to the world a glorious apostle of humility, Saint Martin de Porres. Guide us by his example and strengthen u s through his intercessions in our efforts to conform our hearts to the humble Heart of Thy Crucified Son.

Renew, O Lord, in these days, when pride and forgetfulness of Thee are so widespread, the wonders which Thou didst perform through Thy humble servant, Martin de Porres, during his lifetime. We pray that all the world may know of Saint Martin and of the surpassing value of the virtue of humility. Through the same Christ Our Lord. Amen.

ST. MARTIN de PORRES OF THE ORDER OF PREACHERS AN AMERICAN NEGRO (1579–1639)

@

BROTHER MARTIN, saintly coloured Dominican, today numbers his grateful clients in tens of thousands. He is our latest saint, a bright star in the spiritual heavens.

Martin was born in Lima, Peru, December 9, 1579. His father was Don Juan de Porres, a Spanish knight; his mother was a coloured woman, Anna Velazquez, a native of Panama. Don Juan, an adventurer, after the birth of a daughter, Jane, Martin’s junior, left the hapless mother and children to shift for themselves. The faded record of Martin’s baptism is still extant, but only few details of his childhood have come down to us. However, we are told that, in spite of the sordid surroundings of his boyhood, Martin showed himself an exceptional child, especially generous to those even poorer than himself. When his mother sent him to the market, he would often return empty-handed, having given all his basket of provisions to those dying of hunger and neglect. His mother punished him for his prodigality, but Martin often forgot his mother’s words when he came face to face with suffering and want. Perhaps he felt that if he bravely took a beating, the scales of justice were more than balanced. At the age of fifteen, Martin felt called to a higher life. He knocked at the door of the Dominican Priory of the Holy Rosary and asked to be admitted as a Tertiary helper. In his humility, he sought the lowest place in the community, and it was not till nine years later that Martin was ordered to become a regular Lay-Brother. Martin soon became a model religious. His industry was unflagging; his obedience and humility most sincere; his spirit of penance extraordinary; and his charity boundless. Martin, Dominican friar, was now ready to carry on a marvellous apostolate among the sick and poor of Peru.

Martin’s heart was on fire with love and sympathy for mankind. He sought to relieve want and misery in every form among all classes and conditions of life. His superiors gave him a free hand, knowing that he was absolutely unselfish. Daily he fed nearly two hundred; each week through his success in pleading the cause of the poor, he disbursed about eight hundred pounds’ worth of necessities of life among the Indians, Negroes, the Spaniards- the sick, the miserable and the dying. He visited the hovels of the wretched and abandoned. He was an angel of mercy, and often God gave him the power to perform miracles and to foresee the future. Through his efforts the Orphanage of the Holy Cross was erected for the poor waifs and homeless children of Peru. Everywhere he went Martin brought comfort and consolation. All Lima affectionately called him “the Father of the Poor.”

So great was Martin’s charity that God even annihilated great distances for the extension of his mission. Thus we have reliable witnesses who declare that Martin—though he spent all his life in South America- helped the Christian captives in Africa and ministered to the sick and poor in Mexico, China and Japan.

When Saint Martin died at the age of sixty, November 3, 1639. great was the grief of all Lima and the surrounding country. Only the knowledge that Martin was now in heaven and only the numerous miracles worked at his tomb were able in some measure to assuage their sorrow. Perhaps, after a while, they began to understand that Martin’s mission of kindness, now that he was in Heaven, was to assume worldwide extension.

Martin de Porres was solemnly declared a saint by Pope John XXIII on May 6, 1962. His Feast Day is kept on November 5, and the spontaneous and enthusiastic devotion to this noble Negro leads us to believe that he is a providential patron raised up in these times to teach a cruel and proud world the two outstanding characteristics of his own life- charity and humility.

NOVENA

FIRST DAY

Saint Martin’s Humility

SAINT MARTIN imitated Our Lord, Who was meek and humble of heart. There was no pride or vanity in his soul. He knew that God is our Creator and that we are but His creatures. He understood that God loves us as children and only wants us to be happy. So he submitted entirely to the Holy Will of God. Let us all imitate Saint Martin by humbly doing the Will of God in all things.

Let us pray.

O humble Saint Martin, ask Our Lord to give us the grace of true humility that we may not be puffed up with foolish pride, but may be contented with the gifts that God gives us. Obtain for us the light of the Holy Ghost that we may understand, as you did, that pride is a deceit of the devil and that only by doing the Will of God can we be truly happy. Amen.

One Our Father. Ten Hail Marys. One Gloria

SECOND DAY

Saint Martin’s Love of God

SAINT MARTIN’S whole soul was filled with of God’s love. He knew that Almighty God sent His Only Son into the world to suffer and die on the Cross for our sins. His heart was stirred with deep affection for so loving a Redeemer, and his whole life gives evidence of his sincere gratitude. May we, too, learn to love Our Saviour more and more and show our love by our good works.

Let us pray.

O Saint Martin, why are our hearts so cold and lacking in love for the Son of God, Who became a little Child for our salvation? Why are we so slow to love One Who loved us so much that He gave His life for mankind? Ask God to make us realise that the only way to happiness is by loving and serving Him with all our hearts and souls. Amen.

One Our Father. Ten Hail Marys. One Gloria

THIRD DAY

Saint Martin’s Love of the Poor

SAINT MARTIN was called “the Father of the Poor.” He saw in the poor, the sick and the dying the children of God, and he help ed them in a thousand practical ways. He studied medicine so that he might know how to cure the sick. Every day he distributed alms to the poor. He built an orphanage for children. Let us imitate the charity of Saint Martin that God may bless us as He blessed him.

Let us pray.

Dear Saint Martin, teach us to be generous with the gifts that God has given us. Make us sympathetic towards those who are suffering and afflicted. Pray to Our Redeemer and to Our Lady of Mercy that our hearts may not be hardened by sin and selfishness, but that we may always be kind and generous to our neighbours because they are the children of Our Heavenly Father. Amen.

One Our Father. Ten Hail Marys. One Gloria

FOURTH DAY

Saint Martin’s Faith

SAINT MARTIN had a lively faith in all the teachings of the Catholic Church because he knew that it was founded by Jesus Chri st, the Son of God, Who can neither deceive nor be deceived. God rewarded Saint Martin’s humble faith by enlightening his mind that he might believe the mysteries of our Holy Religion. May God give us the grace always to believe the truths which He has revealed.

Let us pray.

O glorious Saint Martin, we need strong faith in God and His Holy Church, especially in these days when so many people have turned against religion. Bring to a knowledge and love of the true Church the non-Catholic members of your race that they may find the way to salvation and happiness. Ask God to make us faithful soldiers of Jesus Christ in life and in death. Amen.

One Our Father. Ten Hail Marys. One Gloria

FIFTH DAY

Saint Martin’s Confidence in God

SAINT MARTIN firmly relied on the goodness and promises of God. He hoped through the grace of God, and the merits of Jesus Christ one day to obtain an eternal reward. We know that Saint Martin’s trust in God was not in vain. We, too, are confident that God will forgive us our sins if we are truly sorry and that He will give us everlasting life if we serve Him faithfully by obeying His commandments.

Let us pray.

Saint Martin, help us to have a great trust in Almighty God. Make us understand that He is One Friend who will never desert u s as long as we are true to Him. Keep us from foolishly presuming that we will be saved without doing our part, but keep us also from despair, which forgets the mercy of God. Ask the Child Jesus to increase in our hearts faith, hope, and charity. Amen.

One Our Father. Ten Hail Marys. One Gloria.

SIXTH DAY

Saint Martin’s Devotion to Prayer

SAINT MARTIN kept his mind and heart always lifted up to the Creator of all things. His prayer came from the depths of his soul. He constantly turned to God to adore Him, to thank Him, and to ask Him for help. Saint Martin prayed with humility and perseverance, and God was pleased to answer his prayers in miraculous ways. He will pray for us before the Throne of God in Heaven.

Let us pray.

Saint Martin, help us to realise that Christ meant what He said when He promised: “Ask, and it shall be given you: seek, and you shall find.” Make us faithful in attending Holy Mass and other devotions. Remind us to say our daily prayers to obtain the blessing of God. Ask the Queen of the Most Holy Rosary to obtain for us a share of the treasures of the Holy Rosary. Amen.

One Our Father. Ten Hail Marys. One Gloria.

SEVENTH DAY

Saint Martin’s Spirit of Penance

SAINT MARTIN was a brave man. He was not afraid of hard work. He did not weakly seek for comforts as we often do. Even though he laboured so hard, he was glad to do severe penances for his sins and for the salvation of souls. If so holy a man did penance s, how much more should we, who have seriously offended Almighty God by our sinfulness!

Let us pray.

Saint Martin, from you we learn how to be courageous and valiant. From your life we learn to avoid idleness and self-seeking. Give us some of that spirit of penance which you had, so that we may be brave in the struggle with temptation. Ask Jesus Crucified to give us the grace to fight the good fight for victory. Amen.

One Our Father. Ten Hail Marys. One Gloria.

EIGHTH DAY

Saint Martin’s Reward

SAINT MARTIN died a holy and peaceful death. He had spent his life in doing good as a humble Lay-Brother of the Dominican Order. But he that humbleth himself shall be exalted. Soon his heroic life became widely known, and Pope John XXIII solemnly proclaimed Martin de Porres a Saint of God. Let us rejoice that we have such a noble brother among the Saints of God in Heaven!

Let us pray.

Dear Saint Martin, you have been raised up by Almighty God to show us the way to our true home. You have given us the good example and the encouragement that we need. We know from your life that to win the reward of glory we have but to love and serve the Best of Masters. May we ever be humble that we, too, may be exulted unto everlasting life. Amen.

One Our Father, Ten Hail Marys, One Gloria.

NINTH DAY

Saint Martin’s Miracles

SAINT MARTIN performed many miracles during his life and after his holy death. We can go to him with confidence for he will grant our petitions if they are for the good of our souls. His heart is very big, and he loves to help us, he is kind in every way. We have only to tell him our troubles and to ask him to help us. If we do our part we can be sure that our dear friend Saint Martin will do his.

Let us pray.

O Lord Jesus Christ, Who didst inflame the heart of Saint Martin with an ardent Jove of the poor and Who djdst teach him the wonderful joy of true humility and the wisdom of accepting God’s Holy Will, grant that, like him, we may be ever truly humble of heart and full of Christ-like love for suffering humanity. Deign, we beseech Thee, that, by imitating the holy life and enjoying-the powerful help of this saintly Negro, the whole world may be drawn nearer to Thee, the Saviour of the human race. Who livest and reignest, with God the Father, in the unity of the Holy Ghost, God, world without end. Amen.

One Our Father. Ten Hail Marys. One Gloria.

“We confess that we feel a special paternal affection, Which is certainly inspired by heaven, for the Negro people dwelling among you; for in the field of religion and education we know that they need special care and comfort and are very deserving of it. We there fore invoke an abundance of heavenly blessing and we pray fruitful success for those whose generous zeal isdevoted to their welfare.” (Pope Pius XII, letter of November 12, 1939, to the American Hierarchy.)

INVOCATION TO ST. MARTIN @ “In the name of the Most Holy Trinity,

In the name of Jesus Christ, the Son of God,

In the name of Mary, Queen of Heaven,

In the name of Joseph, Patron of the Universal Church,

Saint Martin, cure (help) me (him, her)

For the honour and glory of God

And the salvation of souls.”

Invocation to be said when applying the Saint Martin relic, picture or medal to the sick, or when held in the hand by those who are in need.

PRAYER TO ST. MARTIN DE PORRES

@

Most humble Martin de Porres, whose burning charity embraced not only thy needy brethren, but also the very animals of the field, splendid example of charity, we hail and invoke thee! From that high throne which thou dost occupy, deign to listen to the supplications of thy needy brethren that, by imitating thy virtues, we may live contented in that state in which God has placed us, and, carrying our cross with strength and courage, we may follow in the footsteps of Our Blessed Redeemer and His most afflicted Mother, to reach at last the Kingdom o f Heaven through the merits of Our Lord Jesus Christ.

Amen.

Printed with Ecclesiastical Approval, Sydney, 6/6/62.

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Novena To Saint Anne

DANIEL A. LORD, S.J

INDEX

FIRST DAY

“Who shall find a valiant woman?”

This was the cry of Solomon long before the time of the noble women who watched for Christ’s coming to earth. The valiant woman . . . strong in her stainless virtue.

The valiant woman. . . . keeping the laws and traditions of her people.

The valiant woman. . . . fighting the quiet. battle of purity and decency.

The valiant woman . . . protecting her home, the strength of her husband, the future of her children. The valiant woman. . . . whom God loves and whom the powers of evil dread as their relentless enemy. The valiant woman . . . like glorious Saint Anne, mother of Mary.

To Saint Anne the Catholic world has looked in admiration, has reached out in confidence; from her have come protection and generous love. To the grandmother of Christ we pray:

THE PRAYER OF SAINT ANNE

O God, who didst vouchsafe to endow blessed Anne with such grace that she was found worthy to be the mother of her who brought forth Thine only-begotten Son, grant in Thy mercy that we who keep her festival may be aided by her intercession with Thee. Through Our Lord Jesus Christ, Thy Son, who livest and reignest with Thee in the unity of the Holy Ghost, God, world without end. Amen.

SECOND DAY

It was in the peaceful little house of Anne and Joachim that Mary, the Mother of God, spent her girlhood. There Mary knew the example of a woman who lived the simple ways of wife and mother.

Unknown save in the limited circle of Nazareth, Anne prepared the meals for her family, made and mended their plain garments, and filled the house with the perfume of her devoted service. She was a model of a wife’s diligence and a mother’s solicitude.

The young Mary watched this model of the simple domestic virtues.

This obedient daughter saw perfection in her mother, the perfection of small tasks done out of love for God and devotion to family.

Each day had a time for prayer.

Each day was filled with deeds of neighbourliness and acts of charity quietly and happily performed.

Mary saw in her mother how a woman can be simple yet great, how the deeds that God asks of us-however unnoticed or unimportant these may be-are the deeds that win His gratitude and make us saints before Him and benefactors before the world.

To this model of the simple domestic virtues we pray:

The Prayer of Saint Anne (recite the prayer on page 1)

THIRD DAY

Like all Jewish women of her day Anne dreamed of the promised Saviour. Surely the Messias was sorely needed in her day when the plight of her people was so unhappy.

Never for a moment did she think that such an honour would come to her-but perhaps from her line, the noble line of David, there would come a woman worthy to be the Mother of the Messias.

To Anne was not given the beautiful privilege of motherhood.

She prayed that God would send her and Joachim a son or a daughter.

Neighbours pitied her, as the Jews always pitied a childless woman. Around her grew up a flock of nieces and nephews. But no child of her own came to rest in her arms.

She prayed for a child, and in the same breath she added: “. . . . . if it be thy will, my Father.”

No impatience with God. No envy of more fortunate relatives. No self-pity. But a hope that never faded. And faith in God, who would do for her what was for His honour and her happiness.

No wonder that to Anne there was born at length in her old age the beautiful little girl who was Mary, fairest flower of womankind.

To this model of hope we pray:

The Prayer of Saint Anne (recite the prayer on page 1)

FOURTH DAY

Hope is a beautiful virtue.

Hope without prayer is a wasted thing. It is groundless optimism without root in faith.

We hope because we know that God in His love will do what is best for us. We pray so that He may know our desires and that if they are for our good He may fulfill them.

In the long days of patient waiting before the coming of Mary, Anne prayed from a humble and a loving heart. Her life was a long simple prayer committing her to God’s Holy will.

Of a Sabbath she and her husband, Joachim, went together to the synagogue to pray with the other faithful Jews, who cried aloud for the long-delayed Saviour.

At daybreak she offered to God in heaven everything that she would do throughout the day.

Before and after meals she thanked the creator of the universe for the gifts of His Fatherly goodness. At night she looked back upon the day and presented it as a gift to God.

And always underlying her prayer was the hope that the Saviour would soon be born and that God would send her a child-perhaps the child who would be nurse to the Messias.

To this model of prayer we pray:

The Prayer of Saint Anne (recite the prayer on page 1)

FIFTH DAY

Joachim and Anne were coming into late middle age. The hope that they would have children seemed almost past.

Longingly had they prayed for a child. Now they hardly dared hope any longer.

And then the wonder. Anne conceived, and the happy pair knew that they would be parents.

If there had been peace in the house before, now there was deepest joy. God had answered their petitions. God had blessed them with parenthood.

If Anne had hitherto done gladly the simple work of her household, she now did it with new purpose and high happiness. The house must be even more spotless for the coming child. Little dresses must be made, quilts and pillows sewed.

Each Sabbath in the synagogue Anne upon her knees thanked God, who had blessed her.

Each morning and each night she prayed the Father in heaven to bless with the fullness of grace and the richness of a life devoted to His service the child she was to bear.

And Mary, the loveliest infant that the world had ever seen until that day, was born. Anne smiled into the happy eyes of Joachim. Together they loved the little Mary, their gift from God.

To the happy mother of Mary we pray:

The Prayer of Saint Anne (recite the prayer on page 1)

SIXTH DAY

Who can describe the joy that came to the house of Anne and Joachim with the coming of Mary? Never had a sweeter baby smiled into a mother’s face.

Never had a more obedient child grown up to bring happiness to a household.

Her first spoken words were music in their ears.

Her first conscious kiss was a blessing and the sweet mark of her gratitude to her parents.

She listened avidly to Anne’s telling of the story of God’s dealings with His people. From Anne she heard for the first time about the Saviour who was to be born.

From Anne she learned the gentle arts that she was later to use as Mother of the Son of God. It was from Anne she learned the dignity of a woman’s work.

Now there was laughter in the house, the happy young laughter of a sinless child. The hearts of Anne and Joachim echoed to that laughter in delight and with a sense of gracious fulfillment.

God had been slow to answer their prayers; His answer had come in measure far beyond their fondest hopes. In God’s Providence did they put their trust and their trust was not in vain.

To this model set before the child Mary we pray:

The Prayer of Saint Anne (recite the prayer on page 1)

SEVENTH DAY

Was Anne still alive when Mary became the Mother of the Saviour?

Was it ever Anne’s grandmotherly privilege to hold the Infant king in her arms?

We do not know. The silence of the Scriptures leads us to think that perhaps she had already gone home to God, that she had left her daughter to the gracious care of Joseph, that she was never to see her divine Grandson until as liberator He entered limbo.

But whether she lived or not to see that happy day, the spirit of her devotedness, her calm serenity, her patience, her kindness lived on in the life of Mary.

It was from Anne that Mary learned the art of motherhood.

What Anne had done for her, Mary did for her little Son.

Food like the food she had eaten at her mother’s table Mary prepared for her growing Boy.

The prayers, the lovely story of the Jewish people, the strong words of the law and the prophet’s hope-bearing words that she had learned from Anne, her mother, Mary passed on to her Son as He grew in age and wisdom and grace.

The imprint of Anne’s training could be seen on the Son of God Himself through Mary, His Blessed Mother.

To this model of motherhood we pray:

The Prayer of Saint Anne (recite the prayer on page 1)

EIGHTH DAY

Next to Mary, Anne is the favourite name for all the world.

It is the symbol of her motherly virtues. It is so intimately associated with Mary and with Jesus that it commands our affection.

Thousands of girl babies each year are named for the mother of Mary.

Time was when the highest honour that could be conferred upon a baby girl was to call her Mary Anne, linking in a double name the virtue and intercession of the world’s two most powerful wo men.

Today that name remains the symbol of strength and power.

We call upon Anne, knowing that the Saviour will listen to the prayers of His devoted grandmother.

In her name we ask favours and blessings, sure that the God who chose her daughter to be His Mother will be generous to the woman who shaped His Mother to her high career.

Fortunate the women whose name is Anne.

Blessed the millions across the world who pray to the great Saint Anne, knowing that her name is dear to God and that prayer to her is prayer that the Saviour, her Grandson, will willingly heed.

To her whose name and fame we love, we pray:

The Prayer of Saint Anne (recite the prayer on page 1)

NINTH DAY

All her life Anne lived in the obscure town of Nazareth.

All her days were spent in a tiny house, a home of common people.

Her ancestors might have lived in the royal palaces of David and of his descendants. It was Anne’s destiny to know no palaces, to be content with a cottage that was made beautiful chiefly by the love that filled it. But Anne was great. A thousand, thousand churches are built to her name.

A thousand schools and hospitals are erected under her patronage.

Pilgrims by the millions pour every year into her shrines, kneeling before her altars and begging her to remember them to God.

Unknown in her own day, she is now known across the world.

Having lived during her lifetime in a little cottage, she is now honoured by great buildings of the world. From her mansion in heaven she looks down to see once more how the buildings that bear her name shelter the Son of God, house the shrines of Mary His Mother, and serve for the peace and strength of God’s sons and daughters of every generation.

To her who was honoured on earth and is enthroned in heaven we pray:

The Prayer of Saint Anne (recite the prayer on page 1)

Nihil Obstat:

JOHN M. FEARNS, S.T.D

Imprimatur:

@ Francis Cardinal Spellman, Archbishop, New York.

********

Novena To Saint Anthony

INDEX

WOMEN WEARING THE FRANCISCAN BROWN AND CORD ARE A COMMON SIGHT ALONG THE BOULEVARDS OF MANILA AND ON THE PLAZAS OF THE PROVINCES. FOR THE VISITOR TO THESE ISLES OF FAITH THIS SEMI-RELIGIOUS DRESS TELLS MORE THAN WRITTEN VOLUMES OF THE FAITH OF THESE ISLANDS. THE CATHOLICITY OF THE ATTIRE, THE PUBLIC PROFESSION OF THE FAITH INVOLVED IN WEARING THE BROWN FRANCISCAN DRESS, IS A CHALLENGE AND EDIFICATION; IT INCREASES RESPECT, ADMIRATION AND LOVE FOR THE SAINT HEREBY HONORED.

Throughout the Catholic world, the seventh centenary of the death of St. Anthony was celebrated, June 13th, of the year 1931. Seven hundred years have elapsed since he returned his soul to God. Seven hundred years they have been of countless joys and favors that the Saint of Padua has through his intercession deluged upon the world at large, upon those who have had devotion to him, upon those most favored souls who may be called his special clients.

As Catholics, we honor St. Anthony, especially in that he modeled his life so truly, so successfully, so heroically upon that of his Lord and Master. He heard the plea: “If you would be perfect, come follow Me.” St. Anthony accepted this invitation, “If you would be My disciples, take up your cross daily and follow Me.” Throughout the life of the humble though gifted and intellectual genius, there was the ceaseless attempt to be as close to the original model of Christ as possible.

And now that we commemorated the seventh centenary of Saint Anthony’s death, we all prayed that the Holy Man of Padua continue to shed his lustre upon these Islas Filipinas, that he constantly shower his favors upon them and upon any one who implores his name and help. Especially might we ask the patron of so many souls throughout this archipelago that he keep alive in the hearts of young men and women the Faith of their Fathers, the Faith that has merited for the Philippines the tribute of Dr. Jose Rizal, “The Pearl of the Orient Seas,” gained by being the only Christian nation in the Orient.

LIFE OF ST. ANTHONY

Instead of a few lines, volumes might be written of the span of 36 years spent in this vale of tears by the Wonder Saint. His birth, early life and the years that elapsed up to the time when he waited for the messenger of death, these days and months and years are filled with incidents that bring out in relief the true character and heroic virtues that are profoundly productive of good in those who have followed his teaching and example.

Born of rich parents, he was not to be spoiled. His early training was such as the usual child might have. He studied well and he learned easily. Having mastered the elementary schooling of those days, it is said of him that he found special delight in the reading of the Scriptures so that at an early age, he knew from memory the entire Old and New Testaments.

Cherishing his vocation as a priest, he led a life that was in union with God, which brought others nearer to Christ and prepared for himself and countless other souls the places in heaven where they all now enjoy the Beatific Vision of God.

The years of his life were well spent. For this short sketch suffice it to say, that for each day of the Novena that follows, an incident is given to illustrate various virtues in the life of the saint.

As a missioner, a teacher, a preacher, he spent his short life. He, like so many other illustrious characters, spent a brief span of years on this earth. Born in Lisbon, Portugal, in 1195, he died on June 13, 1231. In the thirty-six years of his life he gave himself generously to the service of God, performed many miracles, converted thousands upon thousands, spread good will and reconciled large numbers of former enemies. Now his fame is world-wide; his devotees are in every corner of the Catholic World.

Seven hundred years is not a long period in the annals of the Church. But succeeding centuries have not only helped to make more illustrious the fame of the Saint of Padua who continues to pray for those who claim him as their patron, their intercessor with God.

TO MAKE A NOVENA

1. The custom is to make a devotion on nine consecutive Tuesdays. It is certainly a good practice to go to Confession and Holy Communion on these days.

2. If impossible to visit a Church, try to recite the following prayers be-fore a picture or image of St. Anthony in the hope that on the last Tuesday, at least, you may be able to receive Holy Communion.

Note.-In the Apostolic letter “Antoniana Solemnia,” written on the occasion of the seven hundredth anniversary of the death of St. Anthony, the late Supreme Pontiff, Pope Pius XI, outlined the life and principal virtues of St. Anthony, the Wonder Saint of Padua. The words of the Holy Father carry a conviction that mere human documents do not possess. We, therefore, quote from the letter of the Pontiff to give the full weight of authority to the character of the Saint in honor of whom this novena is written.

FIRST DAY

VOCATION

Pope Pius XI, the late Pontiff, says in “Antoniana Solemnia”: “Born of noble parents, endowed with a bril liant intellect and an abundance of earthly goods, St. Anthony could look forward to a career rich in pleasures and preferments. in the first bloom of youth, he abandoned all right of inheritance, prospect of future worldly greatness, the allurements of ambition, with a joyful and generous heart, ridding himself, as it were of an unpleasant burden. First, he humbly asked to be received among the Canons Regular of St. Augustine; then desirous of still greater perfection with great zeal, he entered the newly founded Seraphic (Franciscan) Order.”

The example of St. Anthony in forsaking his home and friends to become a priest was no ordinary procedure in those days. He was of a good family and he might well have chosen other than the newly established Franciscan Community whose members were wedded to the principle of poverty in its most detailed form. But St. Anthony followed the gospel precept of Christ addressed to the rich young man, “If you would have treasure in Heaven, go sell what you have and give it to the poor and then come, follow Me.”

REFLECTION

Vocations are the crying need of the world today. The Churches that are in ruins, the parishes neglected: they all raise their silent voices in a plea for more boys to be priests. Young girls who would dedicate their lives to God are also needed in great number. The Parish without a convent of sisters can never be considered a complete parish. Consecrated women are needed to give their lives back to God. There are signs that vocations are increasing for the various sister-hoods in these Islands. However, there “is still much work to be done. It is estimated that there are but five hundred Filipina Madres; whereas America, so often wrongly called Protestant, has more than one hundred and seventeen thousand Catholic American Sisters. Thus there ought to be fifty thousand Filipina women in the convent.

Have you a vocation? Have you ever thought of dedicating your life to God? Say to Saint Anthony this

PRAYER

Glorious St. Anthony, who from your earliest years were consecrated to the service of God, and practiced the greatest austerities, who burning with zeal for justice, caused yourself to be conveyed to the coast of Africa that you might preach the Gospel to the Saracens, obtain for us the grace to apply ourselves continually to the service of God, to our personal mortification and the salvation of our brethren, that we may thus become true disciples and imitators of Jesus Christ.

LITANY OF ST. ANTHONY (FOR PRIVATE USE ONLY) LORD, HAVE MERCY ON US! CHRIST, HAVE MERCY ON US!

Lord, have mercy on us! Christ, hear us!

Christ, graciously hear us!

God the Father of Heaven, have mercy on us!

God the Son, Redeemer of the World, have mercy on us!

God the Holy Ghost, have mercy on us!

Holy Trinity, One God, have mercy on us!

Holy Mary, pray for us.

Holy Mother of God, *

Holy Virgin of virgins,

St. Anthony of Padua,

St. Anthony, glory of Friars Minor,

St. Anthony, Lily of Virginity,

St. Anthony, Gem of poverty.

St. Anthony, example of obedience,

St. Anthony, mirror of abstinence,

St. Anthony, vessel of purity,

St. Anthony, star of sanctity,

St. Anthony, model of conduct,

St. Anthony, beauty of paradise,

St. Anthony, ark of the testament,

St. Anthony, keeper of the Scriptures,

St. Anthony, teacher of the truth,

St. Anthony, preacher of grace,

St. Anthony, exterminator of vices,

St. Anthony, planter of virtues,

St. Anthony, conqueror of heretics,

St. Anthony, terror of infidels,

St. Anthony. consoler of the afflicted,

*Pray for us.

**This litany may be omitted at will.

Recite concluding Prayer, however, on page 3.

St. Anthony, terror of the devils, Pray for us

St. Anthony, performer of miracles,

St. Anthony, restorer of lost things,

St. Anthony, helper in need,

St. Anthony, provider for God’s poor,

Lamb of God. Who takest away the sins of the world. spare us, O Lord ! Lamb of God, Who takest away the sins of the world, graciously hear us, O Lord! Lamb of God, Who takest away the sins of the world, have mercy on us! Pray for us, Saint Anthony, That we may be made worthy of the promises of Christ.

PRAYER

Saint Anthony, patron of so many homes and municipalities of this land, obtain for us a share in those virtues that marked thy life. By thy powerful intercession, may we be pure, lovers of poverty, zealous imitators of Christ Crucified. Intercede with the Trinity for the favor which we ask in this novena (mention request) if it be to the greater honor and glory of God and the good of our own souls. Amen.

Here recite three Ave Marias for the favor which you request in this novena.

SECOND DAY

PREACHING

Preaching at its best is a form of teaching. Christ is the model of every preacher. Pope Pius XI says of St. Anthony: “In preaching he sought not the popular applause, nor the favor of the rich and distinguished, nor yet the vain and pretty flattery of men. He preached not for temporal gain but for the Divine Truth which he acquired in his daily study of the Sacred Scriptures and which he zealously imparted to the people.”

St. Anthony shone as a teacher supreme. He had been a good student, had studied his profession as a teacher of the most important branch of all learning, knowledge of God and Souls.

The most important,-and most widely read book, is the New Testament. St. Anthony knew this work thoroughly and could have reproduced it from memory had it ever been lost. He made the Scriptures his constant companion, read and meditated upon them. He thereby spoke the same words, gave expression to the same thoughts that Christ has left us as our heritage.

Just as teaching is a noble profession, just as the teacher moulds the mind of the young, in their quest for knowledge, so is most important for the teacher to know the Bible, the Book of Books, the words and deeds of Christ, the Son of God. The Church has given special indulgences to her children who daily read the Old and New Testaments, the treasury of the Word of God. St. Anthony availed himself of the opportunity to make part of himself the very expression and ideas of Christ our Saviour.

REFLECTION

Do you read the Scriptures, especially the four gospels, the record of Christ’s life, His very words? What do you say to those who lie, saying that the Catholic Church is an enemy of the Scripture? Are you familiar with the facts of the Bible and do you memorize, from time to time, various texts of the Scriptures so as to make yourself more familiar with this divinely inspired book? Of course, you ought to read only the Catholic Bible, the official version, with an “imprimatur.”

If you are a teacher, or preparing to be one, you ought to know this work that far surpasses all other books. If you have in your charge young people, do you open to them the beauties of this Book of Books? If you aspire to be a writer, an orator, a public man or woman, do you realize that it is greatly advantageous to be acquainted with the words and expressions and incidents of the Bible? Say

PRAYER BEFORE STUDY BY ST. ANTHONY

O Light of the world, Infinite God, Father of Eternity, Giver of wisdom and knowledge, and ineffable Dispenser of every spiritual grace, Who knowest all things before they are made, Who makest the darkness and the light, stretch forth Thy hand and place Thy spirit, O Lord, in that I may understand and retain what I learn and meditate on. Do Thou lovingly, mercifully, and gently inspire me with Thy grace. Do Thou teach, guide, and strengthen the thoughts of my mind and let Thy discipline instruct me to the end, and the counsel of the Most High help me, through Thy infinite wisdom and mercy. Amen.

Litany and prayer, page 2

THIRD DAY CHASTITY

The Holy Father in his letter “Antoniana Solemnia” has said: “Among the gifts of sanctity which adorned his soul, perfect chastity shines the brightest. St. Anthony acquired this virtue, not without temptations and the sting of the flesh, which as we all know arise from a nature fallen through original sin. By keeping in check and overcoming the passions of lust, he preserved immaculate the snow-white flower of chastity. It was permitted to him to enjoy as a just reward for overcoming the allurements of the senses, the presence of Him “Who feeds among the lilies” and to delight in His sweet embrace. It is related that when one day, our Saint was in his cell, either praying or reading the Scriptures, suddenly the Infant Jesus, surrounded with a most brilliant light, descended from His heavenly throne and smiling gently, not only allowed Himself to be seen by Anthony but also embraced him with His little arms, giving and receiving caresses. Wherefore today, images of the Paduan aptly and significantly propose for popular devotion, this holy Franciscan youth holding a spotless lily, the symbol of his innocence- and affectionately embracing the Divine Christ.”

REFLECTION

Purity is without doubt, the crown of virtues. In the Philippines, it is cherished with Catholic instinct. Young men and young women about to marry demand and expect this adornment in their future wives or husbands. Married men and women who are model wives and husbands promise and remain faithful to each other.

It is the boast of the Philippines that its young women are pure flowers. It is recognized, however, that in these days, it is more difficult to keep unsullied this lily. Cinemas, bad dances, temptations of various kinds all make it more difficult to keep unsullied this adornment.

What of yourself? Do you try to take the necessary precautions to avoid sin against the virtue of purity? Are you unwilling to engage in conversations that are indecent? Do you shun occasions of sin, immodest dress that is a terrific source of temptation to others? Do you avoid, as you would a plague, bad cinemas? Do you refuse liberties so far as suggestive dances are concerned? Do you try to drive away impure thoughts, knowing that all are troubled with these imaginations and it is only when we wilfully consent that sin is committed? When you are troubled, say a prayer to the Blessed Virgin, the Immaculate Mother of Christ. Take confidence that even saints have been troubled with temptations against purity and say this

PRAYER TO THE INFANT JESUS IN THE ARMS OF ST. ANTHONY

O sweet Jesus, Thou best and only hope of afflicted souls, I prostrate at Thy Feet, and beseech Thee, through the immeasurable love and grace with which Thou didst visit Thy blessed servant, St. Anthony, when Thou didst comfort and embrace him, to come to me at his intercession and let me taste how sweet Thy presence is in the souls that trust in Thee. Amen.

Litany and prayer, page 2.

FOURTH DAY

HUMILITY

Humility often cloaks a noble character. Lowliness of self-esteem is frequently the mark of a great soul. Our Holy Father says of St. Anthony:

“He first practised humility which is the foundation of all virtues. Although he was the object of admiration to all, he did not strive after higher offices and dignities, but was content with the humbler walks of life and solitude. But his desire for humility did not arise from laziness of body or weakness of intellect. On many occasions, St. Anthony acted bravely and courageously whenever circumstances demanded it. It is evident that Christian humility does not destroy the vigor and nobility of the soul but rather vastly strengthens it.”

St. Anthony has been called an outstanding preacher and intellectual giant. He was not only a wonder worker, he was a man of culture, with gifts that mark him as an extraordinary character, in the natural sense of the word.

The story is told that after his ordination to the priesthood, St. Anthony sought out the more humble tasks that fell to the lot of the members of his community. He spent his days doing the menial work of washing dishes and helping in the kitchen. Here was the son of a wealthy family doing the labor that is so often despised. When about his work St. Anthony was one day called upon to deliver an important sermon. He had been given little time to prepare, and yet, he launched into an eloquent and brilliant address that immediately stamped him as an orator of unusual ability. He had remained hidden but when ordered to mount the pulpit, his delivery was not only a treat to the eyes and ear, it appealed to the heart of the large throng that listened to him. From that day, his reputation as a preacher par excellence was established.

REFLECTION

There are countless ways of practicing humility. So many people like to boast of their ability and family and talents. While it is good to use the gift of God given to us, it is often an evidence of pride and too great self-esteem to make others feel their inferiority, to despise others when we ourselves ought to thank God for what He has given to us, “For what have we that we have not received,” said St. Paul. And Christ has left us the warning: “He that shall exalt himself shall be humbled.” In your relations with others, do you despise them? Do you try to keep your pride in check? Do you try to refrain your boasting?

PRAYER

Glorious St. Anthony, who hid your rare talents with the greatest care and patiently suffered the contempt of men, obtain for us grace to despise the esteem of men and the honors of the world, and always increase in merit before God. Amen.

Litany and prayer, page 2.

FIFTH DAY

PRAYER

“More things are wrought by prayer than this world dreams of” is not merely the pious aspiration of a poet; it is a real daily fact. And our Divine Lord could well tell His disciples and the world at large, “Ask and you shall receive, seek and you shall find, knock and it shall be opened to you.” Prayer is the conversation of the soul with its Maker. The prayer of a saint is the sweetest music before God. It is as incense rising to the throne of God.

“St. Anthony,” Pope Pius XI says, “despised riches, separated himself from all the conveniences of life, denying himself that he might the more efficaciously be free to serve God. Doubting his own strength, he so persevered day and night in prayer that it really can be said that the whole course of his life was a perpetual prayer. He knew well that we always need divine aid, “Not that we are sufficient to think anything of ourselves as of ourselves, but our sufficiency comes from God.” (II Cor. III, 5). For just as the earth if it should be deprived of the light and heat of the sun would remain dark and unproductive, so, too, the soul of man unless, through the intercession of prayer, enlightened and nourished by grace from on high, could not resist the baser emotions of nature nor increase in faith and charity, nor finally attain the sanctity which leads to life everlasting.” For according to the divine counsel, “We ought always to pray and not to faint.”

On one occasion, it is said, a young man told St. Anthony that he had kicked his mother. St. Anthony with a rightful appreciation of the horror of such an act remarked: “The foot that kicks one’s own mother deserves to be cut off.” Immediately the young man returned home, and with an axe, cut off his foot. St. Anthony, hearing of the incident, went to the home of the young man and, reciting a prayer, restored the amputated member.

On another occasion, it is said, some enemies who wished to kill the saint prepared some food for him which was poisoned. The saint, knowing of the fact, made a sign of the cross ever the poisoned food and then proceeded to eat it with relish.

REFLECTION

It is recognized that all are not expected to pray as the Carmelites do. All are not expected to be in the chapel at every opportunity. All are not supposed to be praying when other duties demand their attention. There is a time for work and a time for prayer in the sense that duties must be performed and when free, we may pray. But as St. Anthony’s life was a perpetual prayer, so too may it be with others. Our labors, class work. professional work may all be prayers if they be dedicated to God, if the mind and heart be frequently raised to God in the course of the work or task in hand.

Do you raise your heart to God in the morning upon rising? Do you offer to God your whole day, its thoughts and words and actions? This may be done even while dressing, but, it were better done on your knees. Do you from time to time think of God and try to realize that He ever watches you, do you recite special prayers? Say to St. Anthony:

PRAYER

O marvelous Saint, who didst always worthily receive Jesus in His Sacrament, I bless, praise and venerate thee, thanking God Who has sanctified thee by His graces and His Most Holy Sacrament. I implore Him to pardon me for having so often profaned by sin my tongue, sanctified and consecrated so many times by contact with the Body and Blood of Jesus Christ in my communions. O great St. Anthony, obtain for me the grace to preserve my tongue pure and spotless from sin, that I may henceforth merit to receive Jesus Christ worthily in the Sacrament of His love. Amen.

Litany and prayer, page 2.

SIXTH DAY

BLESSED SACRAMENT

Devotion to the Blessed Sacrament is the center of Catholic worship. Take the Mass away from the Catholic Church and religion will crumble, will disappear. Take the Blessed Sacrament out of our lives and all is empty.

Christ left us a great treasure when He condescended to remain forever as our guest in countless Churches and tabernacles. Veiled as He is, hidden as He is behind the tabernacle door, He is our best Friend, our changeless Friend Who understands our every mood, our fickleness and our constant wavering. He is our Consoler in times of trial and trouble. He is the Food of Angels and the heavenly Manna of our souls. He is the Strength of those who try to lead good holy lives.

Great issues have been decided before the Blessed Sacrament as was illustrated in the first world war when General Foch, Commander-in-Chief of all the allied troops, spent hours before the Tabernacle during the most trying periods of that international carnage.

The power of the prayer of St. Anthony is illustrated in the story told in which some men of those times joked to the Saint that dumb animals would not be convinced by his prayer. It was proposed to bring a hungry horse to a certain spot and then St. Anthony was to bring the Blessed Sacrament; the question was: “Would the dumb beast recognize the presence of God in the Blessed Sacrament?”

The owner starved the animal for days, giving him nothing to eat. On the day appointed, all parties arrived at the proposed spot, with the starving horse and two big baskets of food. St. Anthony was called and he brought the Blessed Sacrament. As the Saint came within sight, the food was presented to the horse. All were astonished when the beast dropped on his knees and in his own way gave glory to God hidden under the appearance of a host.

REFLECTION

When you have the opportunity, do you visit the Blessed Sacrament, if only for a brief moment? Do you try to assist at Mass and receive Holy Communion as often as possible, knowing that thereby you please God, bring graces down upon your own soul and prepare a rich reward for yourself in heaven? Do you encourage your companions to visit the Blessed Sacrament? Do you do your best to make the Church or Chapel where you live a worthy home for the King of Kings? Do you offer your services to clean and prepare the altar where Christ lives? Do you make a sacrifice to adorn the dwelling place of Christ, placing flowers in the home of your Crucified Lord and Master? Do you do your best to be reverent before the Blessed Sacrament, genuflecting correctly on the right knee? Say to St. Anthony this

PRAYER

O marvelous Saint, whose blessed tongue did always bless the Lord, and cause others to bless Him when they saw the fishes themselves obey thee and raise their heads from the water to listen to thy word, when they saw a stupid beast prostrate itself to adore Jesus Christ in the Most Holy Sacrament, I bless, praise and venerate thee, I thank God for having worked such prodigies to confirm my faith. Through thy sanctity and thy teaching I implore thee to obtain the grace to hear with fruit, the word of God, and to be devout to the Holy Sacrament of the altar. Amen.

Litany and prayer, page 2.

SEVENTH DAY

ZEAL

“If Saint Anthony shone with a galaxy of the highest virtues,” said Pope Pius XI, “none w ere greater than that of his zeal for souls. This was founded upon his own spiritual life, which was ever the source of his success. In the first years of his religious life, St. Anthony requested the privilege of preaching the gospel in Africa. Returning on account of poor health, he reached Italy which was traversed and enlightened by the new apostle and herald of Divine love and truth. Among the enemies of the Church at that time he contended so actively and fruitfully that he justly won the title “Hammer of the Heretics.” St. Anthony displayed a most fatherly interest in all the unenlightened seeking the light of the Gospel; the straying souls searching for the right road, the prodigal children desiring the pardon and embrace of their heavenly Father.”

When St. Anthony decided to leave his native land to go to Africa, he was impelled by the desire to be a martyr, to spill his blood for the Faith. Only a few years previous to his arrival in the dark continent, priests had given their lives for the Faith. Besides this desire for martyrdom, St. Anthony had suffered the agony of completely severing his relations with his own parents and brothers and sisters. Only one who has made this holocaust can know what it costs to give up all for Christ. St. Anthony did it cheerfully, did it bravely, and the hardest trial was that he could not remain in his chosen field but was forced to return to conditions much like his own native Portugal. He had made the offering of his life but evidently God had greater work ahead for him.

REFLECTION

What of your zeal for the salvation of others? Have you companions who do not understand their faith or who do not practice it? Have you any non-Catholic friends who may wish to be Catholics but who do not know how to go about it? Have you any companions who were baptized as protestants and who receive Holy Communion without first being baptized again as Catholics?

With public schools, it is almost impossible to instruct all who ought to know their faith. Thousands upon thousands are thirsting for knowledge of the truth. Do you offer your services to teach Catechism? Do you try to make your religion interesting and attractive to others? Do you know your religion so that you can answer the more common objections and attacks that may be raised against it? Say to Saint Anthony this

PRAYER

Glorious St. Anthony, who by your sanctity and your eloquence triumphed over the hardest heart, obtain for us the grace faithfully to follow the Divine call that we may obtain the blessedness promised to those who faithfully keep the Divine Word. Amen.

Litany and prayer, page 2.

EIGHTH DAY

WONDER WORKER

Pope Pius XI has said of St. An thony: “Nor did this apostolic preacher lack those wonderful signs and omens by which God, in the more severe storms, sustains His Church and places the divine seal of approbation upon the doctrine and works of His messengers. By them, the saint was often permitted not only to convince heretics and to overthrow their objections but also to pacify and placate the hatred and rivalries among the citizens.” Another Pope said of St. Anthony: “In order to manifest His power, and His mercy, and to furnish us with a help to salvation, God Himself often glorifies even on earth many of those children whom He crowns in heaven. To this end, He multiplies wonders and miracles at their tombs. By this means, many who have once lost the Faith, abandon the ways of perdition and walk again in the ways of salvation, and are illumined by the Light of Truth, and hasten to Christ Who is the Way and the Truth and the Life.”

St. Anthony performed so many wonders that his very title is that of the Wonder Worker. The special tradition of his being the restorer of lost articles dates back to the time when he was a Franciscan Friar. One of the young men aspiring to the priesthood decided to leave the seminary; he did this, and in going out stole a very precious book of St. Anthony. The story continues that when the youth was about to cross a certain bridge, at the same time, St. Anthony was praying for the recovery of his valuable book. The young man was suddenly struck with his guilt and decided to return immediately the stolen article. He returned the volume to St. Anthony who, saint that he was, immediately pardoned the young man.

REFLECTION

Miracles are easy for the Catholic to explain. Granting that there is a God, He has full powers over the world. He can simply so regulate the world that the ordinary course of events may he suspended or be altered for a time without causing serious difficulties.

Do you ask St. Anthony to assist you in times of need? Do you call upon his intercession and protection when circumstances arise that demand special help? Do you prove yourself a real devotee of the Saint of Padua by praying to him, especially imploring his power as a wonder worker? It is by asking favors that you show confidence in his power, thereby honoring him and bringing graces upon your own soul. Say to St. Anthony this

PRAYER

O glorious St. Anthony, since God has given thee the power of miracles, a power thou hast exercised for centuries, and since He has given thee in particular the power of finding that which has been lost, I come to thee with the confidence of a child as to the best of fathers. By thy intercession obtain for me above all to find the grace of God, if I have had the misfortune to lose it. May I find also my former fervor in the service of God and in the practice of virtue; and as a pledge of these graces so important for my eternal salvation, may I find also the things I have lost. Thus thou shalt make me experience the presence of thy goodness and thou wilt increase my confidence and my love for thee. Amen.

Litany and prayer, page 2.

NINTH DAY

MODEL FOR ALL WALKS OF LIFE

Pope Pius XI has said: “Let all God -fearing people contemplate this light of sanctity in which the Catholic Church glories. Let them form their lives after his deeds and virtues. Let Young people learn, especially those taking part in Catholic Action- to forego the allurements of the age and to raise a chaste and devout mind to the things good and noble.”

St. Anthony is a model for persons of all walks of life. As a student, he worked industriously to prepare himself for his career; as a young man, he kept unsullied his purity; as a public man, he showed forth humility and charity and kindness. And when he realized that he was to leave this earth for a better home, he gladly faced Eternity, knowing that God was waiting to receive him and that God would reward him for his heroic life. As death approached, he, as every Catholic ought to do, received the last sacraments, cleansed his soul again by confession, strengthened himself by receiving Extreme unction and with the Holy Viaticum his last food, his soul silently slipped away from its mortal frame and passed on to the citadel of Heaven, throne of God, to receive the reward for his tireless labors for Christ and for the souls.

REFLECTION

The death of St. Anthony ought to be the model for all of us. As he lived, so he died. And the same is generally the story with all of us. What of your life? Are you prepared to die even now? Do you think of the uncertainty of life, of the fact that death may come as a thief in the night, without any warning? Do sudden death, serious accident, catastrophe, make you think of the moment when you, too, must give an account of your stewardship?-Not that we should fear death; for the person with a good conscience is not afraid to face death, even though it may be naturally hard for the soul to tear away from the body and enter another life, uncertain and perhaps terrifying. But, do you try to keep prepared? Do you try to help others in their most important moments just before death claims its victim? Do you call the priest to give the last sacraments? Say to Saint Anthony the following prayer for a happy death.

PRAYER

Great St. Anthony of Padua, sweet hope of all who implore thee, I prostrate myself humbly at thy feet to obtain by thy powerful intercession the greatest of all blessings, the grace of dying well. Do not allow, I entreat thee, by the pierced Heart of Jesus, that I be suddenly seized by death in the deplorable state of mortal sin; by thy intercession obtain for me that at the last moment I may experience the most profound sorrow for the sins of my whole life, that I may be penetrated with love for Jesus, and full of confidence in the power of His Blood which was shed for me; that the last movements of my hands may be to carry the crucifix to my lips and my last words the holy names of Jesus and Mary. In short, that expiring in the embraces of my sweet Redeemer. I may have the happiness to see Him, to love Him and to possess Him with thee for all eternity. Obtain this grace also for my parents, my friends, my benefactors and all who are dear to me in our Lord Jesus Christ, to Whom be honor and glory with the Father in the unity of the Holy Spirit forever and ever. Amen.

Litany and prayer, page 2.

NIHIL OBSTAT:

P. Georgius Puder. S.V.D,.Censor Manilae, die 8 Aprilis 1939

IMPRIMATUR:

Cesar Maria Guerrero Eppus. Auxiliaris Manilae. die 12 Aprilis 1939

********

Novenas To Our Lady of Mt. Carmel, Our Lady of Fatima, And Saint Joseph

BY REV DANIEL A. LORD S. J

INDEX

MOUNT CARMEL NOVENA

FIRST DAY

There is something splendid about a uniform.

We honour the soldier who returns with ribbons on his chest and wound stripes on his sleeve, and we salute his uniform.

Romance has attached itself to the uniform of a sailor or a marine.

The plain white uniform of the nurse has become a gleaming symbol of mercy and tender service. The uniform donned by the doctor in the operating room is ugly- and wonderful.

The priest is proud of his cassock, Christ’s uniform; the nun regards her habit as her cloister, her dwelling place of peace.

The scapular of Our Lady of Mount Carmel is a uniform, the splendid uniform of those who enlist under Christ and Mary to battle evil and defend the right.

Wear that scapular, love it, honour it. Be proud of this, your uniform and sign of grace.

In this pride we say:

THE PRAYER OF OUR LADY OF MOUNT CARMEL

O God, who has honoured the Order of Carmel with the special title of your Blessed Mother Mary, ever Virgin, grant in your mercy that we who keep her memory this day may be shielded by her protection and be found worthy to attain unto joy eternal. Who lives and reigns with God the Father in the unity of the Holy Ghost, God, world without end. Amen.

SECOND DAY

Almost from the dawn of history uniforms have suggested war.

Soldiers wore them when they went out to do battle.

Now with the coming of Christ a new kind of war was emphasized: the war of truth against lies, of right against wrong.

Naturally enough in this new war, in which there were armies on the side of Christ, the men and women pledged to fight the good fight and thrust Satan back into hell came to wear uniforms. These were the religious habits of early Christian times, the special garb worn by priests and brothers and nuns.

The most distinctive feature of this uniform was the cloth cape worn in front and in back. This was called the scapular.

When lay men and women, eager to join the fight of right against evil, asked to be enrolled in the army of Christ, they wanted a uniform. So the scapular, the long cloak, was given to them too. And since this scapular was difficult to wear in ordinary workaday life, the cloth was cut to a small square in front and in back. That is our modern scapular. It is the badge of our allegiance to Christ and His Mother in their fight against the forces of Evil. It is a distinctive emblem of a Catholic.

We who in our youth were enrolled in the scapular say:

THE PRAYER OF OUR LADY OF MOUNT CARMEL

O God, who has honoured the Order of Carmel with the special title of your Blessed Mother Mary, ever Virgin, grant in your mercy that we who keep her memory this day may be shielded by her protection and be found worthy to attain unto joy eternal. Who lives and reigns with God the Father in the unity of the Holy Ghost, God, world without end. Amen.

THIRD DAY

How strange it seems to think of Mary as a warrior.

The gentle maid of Nazareth, the Virginal Mother, the Mother of the Prince of Peace, is still called—and properly called—“More terrible than army in battle array.”

And so she is. For when Satan, the great and immortal enemy of the human race, won the preliminary skirmish of

Eden, the voice of God Himself foretold that the foot of a conquering woman would crush the devil’s head. Mary, conqueror of heresies. . . .

Mary, triumphant always in the battle with sin. . . .

When then we put on the scapular, which is Mary’s uniform, we join in a special way the regiment of which Mary is queen and honourary colonel.

We pledge ourselves to do battle against the enemy of the human race.

We will be victorious as Mary is victorious, and conquering as Christ is conquering.

Part of the always-beaten and the never-vanquished, the always-attacked and the never-overcome army of Christ’s kingdom, we wearers of the uniform of Mary know the certainty of victory and the clear prospect of eternal peace. To Mary, queen of the armies of Christ, we say:

THE PRAYER OF OUR LADY OF MOUNT CARMEL

O God, who has honoured the Order of Carmel with the special title of your Blessed Mother Mary, ever Virgin, grant in your mercy that we who keep her memory this day may be shielded by her protection and be found worthy to attain unto joy eternal. Who lives and reigns with God the Father in the unity of the Holy Ghost, God, world without end. Amen.

FOURTH DAY

Among the many uniforms that are worn by members of the various regiments in Christ’s army of peace, none is more widely known or better loved or most historically honoured than the scapular of Our Lady of Mount Carmel.

The legend and tradition of the great Carmelite Order, which gave this uniform to the Christian world, goes far back into history.

On the heights of Mount Carmel the great Prophet Elias (Elijah) lived a life of hunger for Christ. Looking forward into history, he saw the Saviour who was to come, and the Virgin who would be His Mother.

He honoured her whom he had never seen and spoke of her to the disciples that he gathered around him. Sons of the Prophets they were called. They lived together on Mount Carmel and kept their souls in alert expectation of the coming Saviour. They sang in advance the praises of the Saviour’s Mother. They were a religious vanguard of Christianity.

When their uniform, their scapular, became known throughout the world as the special badge of Mary’s soldiers, they gave it to lay men and women too—and with it a share in their fight to advance the kingdom of Christ.

To the Lady foreseen and beloved by Elias (Elijah) we say:

THE PRAYER OF OUR LADY OF MOUNT CARMEL

O God, who has honoured the Order of Carmel with the special title of your Blessed Mother Mary, ever Virgin, grant in your mercy that we who keep her memory this day may be shielded by her protection and be found worthy to attain unto joy eternal. Who lives and reigns with God the Father in the unity of the Holy Ghost, God, world without end. Amen.

FIFTH DAY

A uniform is a splendid and shining thing. Beyond all else it is unmistakable.

One has no doubt about the differentiating characteristics of one who wears a general’s stars, or a Roman collar, or the red coat of the Mounties, or the veil of a nun.

A uniform says to friends: “Here I am, and you may call upon me if you need me.”

A uniform speaks to enemies: “I am on guard, and you must reckon with me.”

So it is that a scapular, the scapular of Our Lady of Mount Carmel, is a public profession of the wearer to fight. Before all observers that scapular says: “I am a soldier of Christ and of Mary. I am a sworn enemy of evil.” “Do not disgrace the uniform,” cries the general to his soldiers. And they know that they merit death if they turn traitor.

“Do not disgrace the scapular,” cries Our Lady, to those who wear it. And they know that they cannot go over to the side of the devil or become party to lies or accomplices in evil. They cannot be cowards when temptation threatens, and they dare not, in the life-and-death struggle that is constantly waged between the powers of heaven and the powers of hell, grow slack and fall asleep.

Pledging ourselves anew to the great fight for Christ against evil, we say:

THE PRAYER OF OUR LADY OF MOUNT CARMEL

O God, who has honoured the Order of Carmel with the special title of your Blessed Mother Mary, ever Virgin, grant in your mercy that we who keep her memory this day may be shielded by her protection and be found worthy to attain unto joy eternal. Who lives and reigns with God the Father in the unity of the Holy Ghost, God, world without end. Amen.

SIXTH DAY

Mary knows her own.

Mary watches over her own.

She has a Mother’s love for those who profess openly before the world their love for her.

So she watches with eagerness and guards with care those sons and daughters who wear her uniform and profess by her scapular their consecration to her.

A wedding ring is a sign of love pledged and fidelity preserved.

A locket is eternal reminder of the one whose picture the locket frames.

A scapular is public manifestation in the sight of God, of men, and of angels that we belong to Mary, that we love her virtues, and that we are trying to live her life before all observers . . . a beautiful “spectacle for God and men.”

HOW WISE IS THE PERSON WHO IN THIS AGE OF TEMPTATIONS MARKS HIMSELF CLEARLY AS MARY’S PROPERTY. MARY GUARDS HER OWN. SHE WILL GUARD HIM

How full of divine common sense is the person who makes it clear that he wants Mary near him in danger and that he hopes her eyes will find him easily when he is in peril. Mary watches over her own. She has no doubt that this one who is marked clearly with her uniform is her own.

Confident in the protection that Mary grants to those who are her own we say:

THE PRAYER OF OUR LADY OF MOUNT CARMEL

O God, who has honoured the Order of Carmel with the special title of your Blessed Mother Mary, ever Virgin, grant in your mercy that we who keep her memory this day may be shielded by her protection and be found worthy to attain unto joy eternal. Who lives and reigns with God the Father in the unity of the Holy Ghost, God, world without end. Amen.

SEVENTH DAY

Since it is part of a great tradition, the story of the Carmelite scapular should be told—even if only briefly. Saint Simon Stock, a Carmelite of heroic stature, loved Our Lady, as the Order of Mount Carmel was vowed to do. He saw the temptations that threatened the purity of young people.

He watched with horror as the devil won to his side cleverness and strength and power.

“Mary,” he prayed, “what can I do to safeguard your beloved sons and daughters?”

In a vision Mary presented him with her scapular.

Saint Simon placed it upon the tempted breasts of the young, and their temptation fled. In all simplicity he gave it to the wise and the learned, and they suddenly knew that the highest wisdom is faith in Mary and in her Son. He consecrated cleverness by enlisting it in Mary’s army and clothing it in her uniform. He made power and strength humble as he dressed them in the simple livery of the maid of Nazareth.

Mary saw her uniform worn now by millions. Down through the ages the priests of the Order of Carmel continued to clothe the followers of Mary in her uniform.

And Mary continued to watch over and protect her own. To her we pray:

THE PRAYER OF OUR LADY OF MOUNT CARMEL

O God, who has honoured the Order of Carmel with the special title of your Blessed Mother Mary, ever Virgin, grant in your mercy that we who keep her memory this day may be shielded by her protection and be found worthy to attain unto joy eternal. Who lives and reigns with God the Father in the unity of the Holy Ghost, God, world without end. Amen.

EIGHTH DAY

When a soldier dies, he is buried in his uniform. In a way his burial is his final dress parade. When a priest dies, he is clad as for Mass, vestments covering his human form with divine disguise. When a man or a woman religious dies, he or she is clothed for the last time in the habit; he or she goes to the grave and to final judgment unmistakably marked as one consecrated to God.

In life the scapular is a public profession of the wearer’s love for Mary.

It is an assurance that the wearer will do Mary’s work and fight her fight if she will protect and guard and mother

Him.

In death that scapular is a fresh pledge of immortality.

The wearer of the scapular goes down into the grave marked clearly as Mary’s soldier.

God sees this sign. The angels recognize and honour it. The devils know it and in hatred flee it. We pray to Mary, “Pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death.”

As wearers of the scapular we give that prayer new meaning when in death we are marked as soldiers who have tried to fight the good fight and who wanted to be buried in the uniform of their queen.

To Mary, our hope in death, we say:

THE PRAYER OF OUR LADY OF MOUNT CARMEL

O God, who has honoured the Order of Carmel with the special title of your Blessed Mother Mary, ever Virgin, grant in your mercy that we who keep her memory this day may be shielded by her protection and be found worthy to attain unto joy eternal. Who lives and reigns with God the Father in the unity of the Holy Ghost, God, world without end. Amen.

NINTH DAY

The great moment in a soldier’s career is the moment of home-coming.

Battle over and victory won, he walks into the city of his birth and is welcomed by the citizens, thanked by the rulers, and embraced by his mother.

His uniform, battle-stained though it may be, is something of which he is proud.

He wears it whenever he and his comrades gather for a grand review.

The great moment in the life of a Christian soldier, a warrior of Christ and of Mary, is the moment of homecoming to heaven.

He is the conquering hero; there is no chance of his having been forgotten.

The citizenry of heaven greet him with applause.

His palm of victory and his crown are waiting for him.

He will be presented as one of the conquering army to the Blessed Trinity.

Mary, his beloved Mother, folds him to her heart.

How splendid if at that moment of entrance into heaven the soldier of Christ proudly wears the uniform that is the scapular and with utter confidence and a sense of a fight well fought smiles into the grateful eyes of Our Lady of Mount Carmel.

To her we say:

THE PRAYER OF OUR LADY OF MOUNT CARMEL

O God, who has honoured the Order of Carmel with the special title of your Blessed Mother Mary, ever Virgin, grant in your mercy that we who keep her memory this day may be shielded by her protection and be found worthy to attain unto joy eternal. Who lives and reigns with God the Father in the unity of the Holy Ghost, God, world without end. Amen.

The Feast day of Our Lady of Mount Carmel is 16th July.

OUR LADY OF FATIMA NOVENA

FIRST DAY

Fatima was long a name filled with anti-Christian associations.

It had been borne by the only daughter of Mohammed, prophet of the first ‘Red peril.’

In God’s sweet providence during the rise of the second Red peril, atheistic communism, the name Fatima suddenly assumed a beautiful Christian meaning.

For to three little Portuguese shepherds in Fatima, a little village in that country, two girls and a boy, appeared Our

Lady of the Rosary. The village had been named after a Moslem lady of the Middle Ages who had owned the surrounding lands at the time of the Moorish conquest of the Iberian Peninsular. This good Moslem had been named for Mohammed’s daughter but towards the end of her days she had become a devout Catholic.

IN THE THIRD YEAR OF WORLD WAR I OUR LADY OF THE ROSARY CAME TO SPEAK WORDS THAT PROMISED PEACE. SHE HELD IN HER HAND THE WEAPON THAT MEN COULD USE FOREVER TO END ALL WARS—THE ROSARY

She spoke of her pure and immaculate heart to women tempted to sin.

And in all this a new vision of Mary, Mother of us all, was given to the world.

To Our Lady of Fatima we say:

THE PRAYER OF THE QUEEN OF THE ROSARY

O God, whose only-begotten Son by His life, death and Resurrection has purchased for us the reward of eternal salvation, grant, we beseech you, that meditating on these mysteries in the most holy rosary of the Blessed Virgin Mary, we may both imitate what they contain, and obtain what they promise. Through Our Lord Jesus Christ, who lives and reigns with God the Father in the unity of the Holy Ghost, God, world without end. Amen.

SECOND DAY

The first sweeping rush of World War I and then the dreary siege of the trenches had sickened Europe. To win the war, the best brains available had been summoned and the man-power of the nations had been exhausted.

Science invented as it had never before invented. The war drew on all the resources of laboratory and factory. So the war dragged on, and peace became prelude to worse war.

In the midst of this chaos, the worse as the war became more confused, brutal and ugly, the beautiful Lady singled out, not the wise, but the simple, not the statesmen, but the children, not the generals, but three little shepherds.

For them and through them for the world she laid down a simple platform for the ending of all wars and the permanence of peace. The only trouble with it is that it is simple and right; the “wise” want something complicated and wrong.

War will end and peace will endure, said Our Lady of Fatima, if we pray:

My Jesus, forgive us our sins. Save us from the fire of hell. Relieve the holy souls in purgatory, especially the most abandoned.

If we dedicate ourselves to sinless lives, If we say the rosary. . . . .

In honour of Our Lady of Fatima we say:

THE PRAYER OF THE QUEEN OF THE ROSARY

O God, whose only-begotten Son by His life, death and Resurrection has purchased for us the reward of eternal salvation, grant, we beseech you, that meditating on these mysteries in the most holy rosary of the Blessed Virgin Mary, we may both imitate what they contain, and obtain what they promise. Through Our Lord Jesus Christ, who lives and reigns with God the Father in the unity of the Holy Ghost, God, world without end. Amen.

THIRD DAY

During the years of war the Queen of Peace appears with a rosary in her hand.

She offers the simple way to peace: Pray the rosary. Why the rosary?

The Rosary begins with the splendid act of faith that we call the Apostles’ Creed.

It continues with the prayer which the Lord Himself gave us, the greatest single prayer that ever linked earth with heaven—the Lord’s Prayer, the “Our Father.”

Each cluster of prayers ends with a prayer that is a reverent gesture to the Trinity, a salutation to the three Persons in one God—the Gloria.

And as the main prayer, repeated in beautifully poetic rhythm, the rosary offers the prayer that was composed by the Angel Gabriel; by the inspired Saint Elizabeth, and by the Church speaking its love for the Mother of God—the “Hail, Mary.”

The beat and measure, the rhythm of the prayers become the undercurrent of thought linked to the life of Christ as in the meditations we follow the Archangel Gabriel to Nazareth, follow Christ the eternal Word from heaven to Bethlehem, follow the holy family through the Infancy, follow Christ through His redeeming death, follow the Saviour and Mary through the Resurrection to the Coronation and glory.

In honour of Our Lady of Fatima we say:

THE PRAYER OF THE QUEEN OF THE ROSARY

O God, whose only-begotten Son by His life, death and Resurrection has purchased for us the reward of eternal salvation, grant, we beseech you, that meditating on these mysteries in the most holy rosary of the Blessed Virgin Mary, we may both imitate what they contain, and obtain what they promise. Through Our Lord Jesus Christ, who lives and reigns with God the Father in the unity of the Holy Ghost, God, world without end. Amen.

FOURTH DAY

“To save souls, the Lord desires that devotion to my immaculate heart be established in the world.” The Sacred Heart of Jesus had always in the devotion of the Catholic faithful been linked with the immaculate heart of Mary.

Now in the vision of Fatima, Mary reminds her children of the importance of that close connection. Why? Mary’s was a sinless heart, the purest next to that of her Son.

Sin is the simple cause of all war.

Blame what economic causes we wish, underlying all those causes are greed and lust for power, cruelty and pride, long-practiced revolt against God expressing itself in swift and bitter revolt against the happiness of men.

As a corrective for these causes of war the Saviour orders devotion to the immaculate heart of His mother.

“Imitate,” He bids us, “that heart whose first and greatest love was always God.

“Pattern human hearts upon that heart, which was devotedly faithful to a husband and a Child.

“Follow that heart, which loved all of God’s children and prayed for them and served them in the blissful ways of peace.”

We honour the immaculate heart of Mary and say:

THE PRAYER OF THE QUEEN OF THE ROSARY

O God, whose only-begotten Son by His life, death and Resurrection has purchased for us the reward of eternal salvation, grant, we beseech you, that meditating on these mysteries in the most holy rosary of the Blessed Virgin Mary, we may both imitate what they contain, and obtain what they promise. Through Our Lord Jesus Christ, who lives and reigns with God the Father in the unity of the Holy Ghost, God, world without end. Amen.

FIFTH DAY

“I am the Lady of the Rosary, and I have come to warn the faithful to amend their lives and ask pardon of their sins. They must not continue to offend Our Lord already so deeply offended.”

In times of war there always seems to be a swift and pitiful turning to God.

“Save us,” even the sinful cry, “from the consequences of the folly we have brought upon ourselves.”

At the same time the cynical dares to ask why God permits the wars into which men rush eagerly and for which they plan craftily during the days of peace.

War over, God is forgotten, and back they rush to their sins.

There can be an end to civil and international war only when men give up their part in the war of evil against good, of lies against truth, of Satan against Christ.

If men will give up their sins, they will give up their wars.

If men will stop offending God, they will cease to give those miserable offenses that result in national incidents and the excuses for war.

The Prince of Peace will lead us only when we cease to turn upon Him, only when we cease to nail Him helpless to the cross.

With a great desire for peace we pray to Our Lady of Fatima:

THE PRAYER OF THE QUEEN OF THE ROSARY

O God, whose only-begotten Son by His life, death and Resurrection has purchased for us the reward of eternal salvation, grant, we beseech you, that meditating on these mysteries in the most holy rosary of the Blessed Virgin Mary, we may both imitate what they contain, and obtain what they promise. Through Our Lord Jesus Christ, who lives and reigns with God the Father in the unity of the Holy Ghost, God, world without end. Amen.

SIXTH DAY

Today we live under the fear of the atomic bomb.

We have seen it and heard it less than half a dozen times by half a dozen nations, thankfully only twice in warring anger. Yet we know with frightening clarity that if it is used again, the next major war will be, not years, but hours.

Again in the providence of God during the course of World War I, Mary foretold and in a kind of way anticipated the atomic bomb.

Seventy thousand people, believers and nonbelievers, Catholics and skeptics, had gathered round the three little shepherds. A driving rain made the day dark. Suddenly the rain stopped. As if emerging from eclipse, the sun rolled into the heavens.

Rolled is the word, for the sun was spinning, shooting forth tremendous rays of colored light. As the multitudes below screamed in terror, the sun was seen by all present to be rushing toward the earth, a gigantic falling bomb, a perilous menace moving to obliterate mankind.

Then the sun stopped. The lovely Lady smiled her reassurance. The sun rolled back into its normal position. The threat of the atomic bomb had yielded to the intercessory power of Mary Mother of mankind. In her protective role as our Mother, she will always guard us.

For protection against the threat of the atomic bomb we pray:

THE PRAYER OF THE QUEEN OF THE ROSARY

O God, whose only-begotten Son by His life, death and Resurrection has purchased for us the reward of eternal salvation, grant, we beseech you, that meditating on these mysteries in the most holy rosary of the Blessed Virgin Mary, we may both imitate what they contain, and obtain what they promise. Through Our Lord Jesus Christ, who lives and reigns with God the Father in the unity of the Holy Ghost, God, world without end. Amen.

SEVENTH DAY

Man is always his own worst enemy. He deliberately shuts his eyes to the truth. He turns away from his salvation and pretends he does not see it.

So we are not surprised that the simple platform of peace laid down by heaven’s queen aroused the fierce opposition of God’s enemies.

The little shepherds of Fatima were treated by the agnostic officials of the country as if they were criminals.

Every effort was made to keep Mary herself from reappearing.

A conspiracy of silence, deliberate and brutal, was developed so that Christendom would not learn how easy was the program by which to end war and keep peace.

Men had their own elaborate programs of armament and treaties of balanced power and unbalanced budgets, of cultivated alliances and more carefully cultivated national enmities. They did not want God’s plan for peace or Our Lady’s invincible weapon—the rosary.

Yet despite persecution and the deliberate hiding of the truth, despite hatred and opposition the news of Fatima spread.

Pius XII gave the world a prayer by which it could dedicate itself to the immaculate heart of Mary. And millions took up the rosary, the weapon of lasting peace.

To Mary of Fatima we pray:

THE PRAYER OF THE QUEEN OF THE ROSARY

O God, whose only-begotten Son by His life, death and Resurrection has purchased for us the reward of eternal salvation, grant, we beseech you, that meditating on these mysteries in the most holy rosary of the Blessed Virgin Mary, we may both imitate what they contain, and obtain what they promise. Through Our Lord Jesus Christ, who lives and reigns with God the Father in the unity of the Holy Ghost, God, world without end. Amen.

EIGHTH DAY

On the horizon of our modern age hangs the threat of Soviet Russia, and her pro-abortion and anti-family lifestyles.

Atheistic communism, despising God and enslaving men, threatening China, menacing Asia, seducing Europe and the ivory towers of false intellectuals, is the peril, half known, always watched with terror. Soviet Russia, clad behind an Iron Curtain, with its population gulaged and propagandized, mysterious, brutal in philosophy, gigantic in power, is enslaved to a godless regime.

A thousand vain schemes are being tried to safeguard Christian democracy against the rise of anti-God and antihuman power. Leagues, paper treaties, conciliations, bribes, all are tried—but with a disbelief that makes them failures even before they are tried.

All the while the solution had been offered by Mary.

“If my requests are heard, Russia will be converted and there will be peace.”

The scandal of the division of Christendom into ‘West’ and ‘East,’ the separation of the Greek and Russian nations from Catholic unity will one day be repaired through the power of prayer, especially the prayer of Our Lady’s rosary.

How complicated are the ways of men! How simple are the ways of God!

If we will consecrate the world to Mary’s immaculate heart. . . . .

If we will say her rosary. . . . .

If we will be sorry for sin and keep our hearts sinless. . . . . .

If we will love purity and truth. . . .

If we do these things, what will be the result?

Well, Soviet Russia will find its way back into the arms of the Father of the prodigal, and the threat that lies behind the Iron Curtain will be removed from the world. The Russia of Saint Olga and Saint Vladimir, a Christian Russia, not separated from the see of Rome, will rediscover its ancient Christian soul.

In the hope of all that Our Lady of Fatima promised we say:

THE PRAYER OF THE QUEEN OF THE ROSARY

O God, whose only-begotten Son by His life, death and Resurrection has purchased for us the reward of eternal salvation, grant, we beseech you, that meditating on these mysteries in the most holy rosary of the Blessed Virgin Mary, we may both imitate what they contain, and obtain what they promise. Through Our Lord Jesus Christ, who lives and reigns with God the Father in the unity of the Holy Ghost, God, world without end. Amen.

NINTH DAY

So Fatima became a new place of pilgrimage.

Millions have gone to see the place to which Mary came from heaven in order to show her children the ways of peace.

Men who hated God and Mary destroyed the oak tree that marked the spot on which she appeared and bombed the little church that had been built to commemorate her apparition. A larger shrine was built in its place. Pilgrims came in ever growing numbers, and the fame of Our Lady of Fatima swept the Christian nations.

Rosary in hand, individuals and families, nuns and priests, educated and unlettered did battle for the cause of Christ.

The image of Mary’s immaculate heart began to appear on thousands of walls; Mary’s immaculate heart became the model on which devoted Catholic youth patterned their hearts.

Once more we knew that God loves us and Mary watches over us.

Once more we were assured that God’s ways are the ways of peace and that those who in their secret souls win the battle against sin are victors in history’s most important battle.

“Blessed are the peacemakers: for they shall be called the children of God. ..” . . . . and the faithful clients of Mary Our Lady of Fatima.

To her we say:

THE PRAYER OF THE QUEEN OF THE ROSARY

O God, whose only-begotten Son by His life, death and Resurrection has purchased for us the reward of eternal salvation, grant, we beseech you, that meditating on these mysteries in the most holy rosary of the Blessed Virgin Mary, we may both imitate what they contain, and obtain what they promise. Through Our Lord Jesus Christ, who lives and reigns with God the Father in the unity of the Holy Ghost, God, world without end. Amen.

The special feast day of Our Lady of Fatima is May 13th.

The feast day of Our Lady of the Rosary is October7th.

The feast day of the Immaculate Heart of Mary is celebrated on the day after the Feast of the Most Sacred Heart of

Jesus. This is always the Saturday after the Second Sunday after Pentecost Sunday.

NOVENA TO SAINT JOSEPH

FIRST DAY

The man nearest to Christ Jesus was His foster father, Joseph the carpenter.

John the Baptist saw Christ briefly near the Jordan and knew that his work as Precursor was over. The Apostles lived and worked with Christ during the brief days of His public life.

But Joseph presided over the events of Christ’s Infancy, provided for Him the house that sheltered Him from birth to baptism, and was of all the men of earth the one at whose hands Jesus received most in service and love and unselfish devotion.

Born of a royal line, Joseph was a carpenter. That trade he passed on to his foster Son. Joseph was destined to immortal honours of the Church, yet no spoken word of his is recorded in the Scriptures.

Still the Church with good reason cries out, “Go to Joseph.”

This injunction we confidently obey as we pray:

THE PRAYER OF SAINT JOSEPH

O God, who in your ineffable providence was pleased to choose blessed Joseph for the spouse of your most holy Mother, grant we beseech you, that we may be worthy to have him for our intercessor in heaven whom we venerate as our protector on earth. Who lives and reigns with God the Father in the unity of the Holy Ghost, God, world without end. Amen.

SECOND DAY

There is always a cause for the choices God makes.

Out of the long procession of men through history, God selected Joseph to be the husband of Mary and the protector of the Saviour.

Joseph’s youth was one of stainless virtue.

His young manhood was marked by deep religious faith and a burning desire to see the Saviour of Israel. His was a life of honest work and of a humility that fitted him for his part in the hidden life of the Saviour.

Little did he dream as he visited the synagogue on the Sabbath that someday he would be the protector of the synagogue’s God. Little did he understand that the trade of carpenter that he was learning would be the means by which he would provide food and clothing for the world’s maker, would be the trade that he would teach the creator of the universe.

Without knowing what it was that he was getting ready for, he gave to his simple jobs the full devotion and the full strength of a character of a simple, honest man.

In these ordinary ways did he fit himself for the extraordinary assignment that God would give him.

Remembering this splendid man, who walked the simple ways, we pray:

THE PRAYER OF SAINT JOSEPH

O God, who in your ineffable providence was pleased to choose blessed Joseph for the spouse of your most holy Mother, grant we beseech you, that we may be worthy to have him for our intercessor in heaven whom we venerate as our protector on earth. Who lives and reigns with God the Father in the unity of the Holy Ghost, God, world without end. Amen.

THIRD DAY

Tradition has it that Joseph had taken the vow of virginity, thus renouncing the right to marriage. At any rate he lived a life of purity. He was stainless among men and pure in the sight of God.

But God in His providence had greater designs for Joseph than mere abstinence. He chose Joseph, the just man, for the delicate mission of sheltering Mary’s virginity and at the same time being her loyal spouse and guardian of the Incarnate Son of God.

Legend tells us that he was selected by a miracle: The barren rod that he held in his hand blossomed with lilies. Perhaps. But surely his soul was bright with joy when he knew that God had given him to be the partner of his life the rose of Sharon, the stainless lily of Israel, the flower among all the flowers in God’s garden.

He accepted his bride and his new responsibility with the determination to make her happy, to keep her safe, and in her company to carry out whatever were Gods plans for their future.

So Joseph and Mary were married, and they established the holy house of Nazareth. There they lived most exemplary lives.

To this strong and pure protector of Mary we pray:

THE PRAYER OF SAINT JOSEPH

O God, who in your ineffable providence was pleased to choose blessed Joseph for the spouse of your most holy Mother, grant we beseech you, that we may be worthy to have him for our intercessor in heaven whom we venerate as our protector on earth. Who lives and reigns with God the Father in the unity of the Holy Ghost, God, world without end. Amen.

FOURTH DAY

Wedded to the loveliest of brides, entering marriage with strong ideals and a trust in God’s provident care, Joseph had a right to expect the love and security that come with consecrated marriage.

While marriage for him was the beginning of a high honour, it was also the beginning of a new pain. While it added to his royal dignity, it was also the occasion of poverty, patience, exile, obscurity, confusion and wonderment.

For at once he found that his virgin bride was with child. What could this possibly mean? He wanted to think her stainless, but what of this clear evidence? He was confused and bewildered. And while it was distasteful to a man of his simple reticence, the law of his people demanded that he put her away.

Since Mary herself did nothing to enlighten him (for she was, according to at least one reliable legend, committed by God to secrecy) his confusion gave way to grave doubt, and doubt in turn gave way to firm, honourable resolve to take action.

Many Theologians believe that Joseph was such a just and humble man that his distress was caused by the fact that he perceived himself to be unworthy of the honour and responsibility of being the custodian of the chosen mother of the Saviour and it was for this reason that he agonised over his decision to separate from Mary.

What a period of suffering and suspense this must have been to Joseph. In His own good time, God would reveal the wonders of the Incarnation of His Divine Son. But to prepare his soul for so great a miracle, God chose to cleanse his heart in suffering.

Remembering his trial and suffering, we pray:

THE PRAYER OF SAINT JOSEPH

O God, who in your ineffable providence was pleased to choose blessed Joseph for the spouse of your most holy Mother, grant we beseech you, that we may be worthy to have him for our intercessor in heaven whom we venerate as our protector on earth. Who lives and reigns with God the Father in the unity of the Holy Ghost, God, world without end. Amen.

FIFTH DAY

Pain and patience in the service of Christ and His Mother soon turn to joy.

The visit of the angel brought an end to Joseph’s problems.

The Child whom the lovely Mary carried was the Son of the Most High. He had no earthly father, for God Himself was His Father. The Holy Spirit had wrought the wonder in Mary’s body.

Over Joseph there came in a rush the realization of what his marriage meant.

He among all men of earth was to be the guardian of the Mother of the Saviour.

Upon him would rest the responsibility to protect the Christ Child, to provide His home, to watch over His childhood, to lead Him into the safe maturity that would be a prelude to His public life.

The home? Joseph had only the house of the carpenter to offer. The food of the Son of God would be plain. The clothes He wore would be those of a laborer’s child. But Joseph silently vowed that the Christ should never want for a heart to love Him, for hands to serve Him, for feet to run His errands, for a back to shoulder whatever weight God would let him bear.

Joseph and Mary smiled upon each other and together waited for the coming of the Son of God, the Saviour of the world.

To Joseph, guardian of Mary and protector of the Infant Saviour, we say:

THE PRAYER OF SAINT JOSEPH

O God, who in your ineffable providence was pleased to choose blessed Joseph for the spouse of your most holy Mother, grant we beseech you, that we may be worthy to have him for our intercessor in heaven whom we venerate as our protector on earth. Who lives and reigns with God the Father in the unity of the Holy Ghost, God, world without end. Amen.

SIXTH DAY

To us Christmas is a day of uninterrupted joy.

To Joseph it was a day of the brightest light and the deepest shadows: a blazing sky and a chilly cave; the presence of angels and the cold shoulder of the villagers; faith and sorrow; intensest joy in the Infant and grief that he could give the Infant only a stable and straw and his ineffectual service.

The story of Joseph and Christmas is dearly familiar to us.

It was decreed that they leave the comforts of home and journey to Bethlehem. The doors of the crowded inns were slammed in his face. He quested through the night until he found the cave and prepared it for his bride and for the coming Child.

His was the joy of hearing the song of the angels and watching the procession of the first adorers. His was the pain of seeing Mary shiver in the cold darkness and of remembering that they had been forced to leave in Nazareth the cradle that he had made with such loving care.

He was the first sentry in the court of the new king, His first man-at-arms, His prime minister, His treasurer, the faithful disciple of the master, who had yet to speak His first word.

To Joseph at Christmastide we say:

THE PRAYER OF SAINT JOSEPH

O God, who in your ineffable providence was pleased to choose blessed Joseph for the spouse of your most holy Mother, grant we beseech you, that we may be worthy to have him for our intercessor in heaven whom we venerate as our protector on earth. Who lives and reigns with God the Father in the unity of the Holy Ghost, God, world without end. Amen.

SEVENTH DAY

Compared to the powerful and important Herod, Joseph was in the eyes of his times a nobody. Yet as this faithful carpenter and saint made smooth the ways of his Lord, worked for His comfort, and knelt to adore Him, Herod plotted the destruction of this Child, whom he looked upon as a possible rival for his throne.

Herod had tried to turn the Magi into messengers of death, but these wise men had on a warning from God, through the star-lighted night found their way to the true new-born king and went home by a different way. Failing this, Herod sent his soldiers out to kill the Child and end the threat to his brief and pitiful power.

Another visit of an angel, and Joseph is moving through the night, leading the ass that carries the sacred burden of Mother and Child.

Eyes alert for danger, staff gripped tightly against possible threat, feet tirelessly striding forward, a few coins in his purse, his locked shop left far behind him, Joseph travels the glorious and ignominious road to exile.

But God had chosen well when He chose this protector of Mother and Son. The journey was safe, the exile comfortable, and the return happy and secure.

To Joseph, guardian of Jesus and of Mary in danger and in exile, we say:

THE PRAYER OF SAINT JOSEPH

O God, who in your ineffable providence was pleased to choose blessed Joseph for the spouse of your most holy Mother, grant we beseech you, that we may be worthy to have him for our intercessor in heaven whom we venerate as our protector on earth. Who lives and reigns with God the Father in the unity of the Holy Ghost, God, world without end. Amen.

EIGHTH DAY

Wonderful things have happened in the long annals of mankind, but none have been more wonderful than what occurred in the little house and shop of Joseph in Nazareth.

The earnings of a labourer provide the food for the creator of heaven and earth.

Into the little carpenter shop comes the young Jesus, apprenticed to a trade. Joseph guides the hands that guided the course of the stars; he teaches the maker of sun, stars, and planets the craft of making tables and chairs for peasants and yokes for oxen.

The Trinity looks down to the lovely trinity of earth—Father, Son, and Holy Spirit beautifully mirrored in Joseph, Mary, and Jesus.

Modern Christian homes receive their design and pattern from this model.

Modern Catholic marriage is here given its lovely example.

Childhood learns obedience as the young Jesus obeys the commands of his parents.

The hearts of Mary and Joseph create a union close and dear and intimate and utterly beautiful; together they live and think and plan and work for the Child, who has been given into their keeping.

Their’s was a beautiful family.

Remembering the happiness of Joseph in Nazareth, we pray:

THE PRAYER OF SAINT JOSEPH

O God, who in your ineffable providence was pleased to choose blessed Joseph for the spouse of your most holy Mother, grant we beseech you, that we may be worthy to have him for our intercessor in heaven whom we venerate as our protector on earth. Who lives and reigns with God the Father in the unity of the Holy Ghost, God, world without end. Amen.

NINTH DAY

Death in the days before Christ was often frightening, often terrible.

It was left for Joseph to show us for the first time the perfect way to die.

Graciously God let him know that his work was done. Jesus was almost ready to enter His public life; in that the humble carpenter would play no part.

He obeyed the voice of God in death as he had obeyed that voice in life. But for him the voice had no terrors. As Joseph lay on his bed, Jesus and Mary were close to him. His head rested on the virgin breast of his untouched bride. His hand rested in the firm grasp of his foster Son. Jesus was speaking gratefully of what Joseph had done for Him. Mary was saying a loving thank-you. His thoughts were being lifted up. . . . . . and up and up toward the heaven that lay ahead and the glory that comes to those who have done their simple duty well:

Jesus and Mary followed their beloved protector to his grave.

In his place in glory the whole Church has sought him, called him its faithful guardian, and known that from his powerful intercession favours past counting fall upon the world of men and women, whom he regards as his beloved sons and daughters.

To Joseph in Heaven we say:

THE PRAYER OF SAINT JOSEPH

O God, who in your ineffable providence was pleased to choose blessed Joseph for the spouse of your most holy Mother, grant we beseech you, that we may be worthy to have him for our intercessor in heaven whom we venerate as our protector on earth. Who lives and reigns with God the Father in the unity of the Holy Ghost, God, world without end. Amen.

St Joseph’s feast day is March 19th.

We celebrate the feast of St Joseph the Worker on May 1st.

********

Now Hear Our Side

BY THE REV. JOHN J. WALDE

INDEX

A prominent newspaper columnist sat next to me at a civic luncheon not long ago. Turning to me he said: “Until I was twenty years old I heard a lot about Catholics, and everything was bad. In the meantime, however, I have had an opportunity to meet a great many Catholics. Now my best friends are Catholics.”

To many, the opportunity is never given to understand Catholics by close association, much less to study Catholic doctrine with an open mind. They, too, have heard only what is supposedly bad, without being given a chance to correct the wrong information given to them.

Just briefly, then, may I present what the Catholic Church has to say for herself? You, too, have perhaps listened to uncomplimentary things about the Church from her enemies. “Now, hear our side.”

WHY NOT BE A CATHOLIC?

These few pages, my dear friends, have only this one purpose-to make you acquainted with Christ and His Church. They contain only a few very essential doctrines. But it is the fond hope of the author that being introduced to Christ and His Church will make you want to know more of Christ and more of His Church. By getting acquainted with Christ and His Church you will learn that the Catholic Church is not a thing of evil but is, instead, the one HOPE for the world.

Do not be disturbed because there are those who hate the Church. They hated Christ also and nailed Him to a Cross. By the very fact that the Catholic Church is hated does she thereby show herself Christ-like, for she is indeed Christ extended through the ages-His mystical Body on earth.

Won’t you, my dear reader, make an earnest effort to understand the Catholic Church, to thrill to her beauty of doc—trine, to feel the security which she offers in the one important task-the saving of our souls? She offers the solution for life’s greatest problem, our salvation. Nothing else really matters; for “what doth it profit a man if he gain the whole world and suffer the loss of his soul?”

CHRIST IS GOD

The most fundamental doctrine of Christianity is the doctrine that Christ is God. Despite the fact that frequently we hear nonCatholics say “I did not know you Catholics believed in Christ,” the Church has defended this doctrine down through the ages. We do not believe that Christ is the Son of God in a vague sort of way, but that He is the Son of God by nature, equal, in all things with the Father. In other words-Christ is God.

At the very first opportunity, when the Church came out of the Catacombs, she defined this doctrine at the Council of Nicea in 325. The Church has held this doctrine ever since and ever will hold and defend it.

FAR-REACHING CONSEQUENCES

From the fact that Christ is God there follow consequences which affect EVERY human life. If Christ is God we are His creatures. As creatures we owe Him our loyalty and our service. He has promised us an eternal reward, namely HIS HEAVEN if we do His will. Therefore, if we want Christ’s Heaven, we must gain it on His conditions, not our own. He is TRUTH and truth never changes. Hence, we have no right to tamperwith God’s truth.

An essential for salvation is—To accept Christ’s teachings and model our lives according to His teachings -”Thy Will be done.” NOT- By picking and choosing and thus trying to make Christ’s teachings conform to our way of thinking.

THE CHURCH AND THE BIBLE

GOD’S WILL

We find God’s will towards us, His Creatures, expressed in the Bible and tra dition. As Catholics we have the highest regard for the Bible. If you, by chance, heard that Catholics may not read the Bible, please forget it. That’s one of the “bad things” said too often of the Church. Not only do we love and reverence the Bible, believe it to be God’s word—from beginning to end, but had it not been for the Catholic Church—we would have no Bible at all.

The Catholic Church—Preserved the Old Testament.

-Under Pope Damasus III, gathered the various books of the New Testament

-Had St. Jerome translate the various books which gave the world the Vulgate Edition, the main source of all translations.

-Specified which books belong to the Bible.

-Had her monks make copies by hand centuries upon centuries before printing was invented.

-Preserved the Bible intact against barbarian invaders and through the ages against conscienceless translators. Millions were converted before the Bible was completed. Other millions were converted who had no opportunity to read a word of its sacred text. They were converted by the Apostles and their successors who taught and preached Christ. Printing came only in 1440, so that until then Bibles were scarce. Besides, few could read. Yet by that time Europe was overwhelmingly Christian and Catholic.

TRADITION

THE MEANING OF TRADITION

Tradition means the handing down of doctrines and practices of early Christianity through the Church. Christ commanded the Apostles “to teach” and “to preach” whatsoever He had commanded. Not every thing was written in the New Testament of the Bible. Through the authority of the Church these doctrines and practices were preserved from generation to generation, and constitute what we call Tradition. In simple terms-Tradition is the teaching of the Church founded by Jesus Christ. Hence we must believe the Bible and the teachings of the Church.

A NEW TRANSLATION

Recently a new translation of the New Testament was given to the English-speaking world under the protection of the Catholic Church. Already this part of the Bible has foundits way into millions of homes. Another book: “Daily Readings from the Gospels,” by Father Stedman, has been procured by several millions of Catholics in the last year alone.

Hence—Catholics do read the Bible and love it.

They also believe wholeheartedly in Christ’s Divinity- that He is God.

ALL THIS AND MORE

These two tenets of Christianity. . . . .belief in Christ’s Divinity and belief in the Bible -are the very cornerstone of Christian faith. As Catholics we believe them. For many these doctrines comprise the whole of Christianity; for Catholics they are only the beginning. Back of these doctrines there must be a voice which speaks with authority and infallibility. For how could we be certain that Christ is God, or that the Bible is the inspired word of God, unless Christ had left an institution which would speak with an infallible voice? In a matter which has eternal consequences and affects your soul and mine we want above all things-certainty.

A DIFFICULT CHURCH -HOLY MOTHER CHURCH

The Catholic Church is often looked upon as a difficult Church. Perhaps she is. But for the very same reason Christ is considered “difficult,” for He, too, said things which were considered “hard sayings.” The Church has but one object and that is to bring us to Christ, to unite us with Him. His teachings are not always easy on human nature, and if, therefore, the Church is considered “difficult” because she insists on her members following Christ, then she must accept the charge of being difficult. But, as a matter of fact, the Church is not difficult. Her whole purpose is to make it easy for us to keep God’s Commandments. For this reason we love to call her “Holy Mother Church,” simply because she is wholly concerned with our salvation.

CHURCH FOUNDED BY CHRIST

The Catholic Church has the unique distinction of being founded by Christ Himself. He founded it upon the Apostles, with St. Peter at the head. Simon, Son of John, had his name changed by Christ to Peter, which means “Rock,” and upon this “Rock” Christ founded His Church. “Thou art Peter and upon this rock I will build My Church (Note: Not Churches, but My Church). And the gates of hell shall not prevail against it. And I will give to thee the keys of the kingdom of Heaven, and whatsoever thou shalt bind upon earth, it shall be bound also in heaven, and whatsoever thou shalt loose upon earth, itshall be loosed also in Heaven.” (Matthew 16: 18–19). Since that day, over 1900 years ago, there have been 262 Popes. They are the direct successors of St. Peter, the first Pope, and continue in unbroken succession to Pius XII, now reigning.

To everyone who recognises that Christ is God, that Christ founded a Church, two things should stand out clearly: (1) That only one of the many Christian denominations can be Christ’s Church.

(2) That this Church must have had a continuous existence since the time of Christ.

The first follows from the fact that Christ is God and, therefore, infinite truth. Truth never changes. Hence, His Church must be as lie established it. The second follows from the fact that only if the Church has had a continuous existence can there be in the Church the powers conferred by Christ upon the Apostles.

HOW TO DISTINGUISH BETWEEN CHURCHES

There are in the United States hundreds of differing Christian denominations Each denomination must claim that it is the one true church or else it has no reason for existence. But they teach contrary doctrines, and, therefore, it must be evident that they cannot all represent Christ, for Christ is not a divided Christ. He is God, and as such He is TRUTH and truth is one. Because of all the conflicting teachings we are not surprised if many give up the search for truth in Christianity simply because there are so many interpretations of Christ’s truths. The only logical solution in our search for God’s truth and God’s Church is to take the standards which Christ Himself has specified.

CHRIST SPECIFIED THAT HIS CHURCH MUST BE—1.-A UNITED CHURCH

(a) Christ prayed for unity. (John 17: 21.)

(b) Christ foretold there would be one flock and one shepherd. (John 10: 16.)

(c) St. Paul speaks of “One Lord, one faith, one Baptism. (Eph. 4: 5.)

2 -A Holy Church through which holiness is conferred upon its members. It is Christ’s command that we be holy. He said: “Be you perfect, therefore, as also your heavenly Father is perfect.” (Matt. 5: 42.) And also, “Be ye holy, because I the Lord your God am holy.” (Lev. 19: 2.)

We judge the holiness of the Church—(a) By Its Founder.

(b) By the holiness of its doctrines and means to produce holiness. (c) By its actual fruit, namely saints.

3.-A UNIVERSAL CHURCH.

The world wide scope of Christ’s Church was clearly stated when Christ said: “Going, therefore, teach ye ALL NATIONS.” (Matt. 28: 19.)

4.-AN APOSTOLIC CHURCH.

Christ conferred many special powers upon the Apostles. These must be in the Church to-day. Only if a Church has had an uninterrupted existence since the time of Christ can it be Apostolic.

THE CATHOLIC CHURCH HAS ALL THESE MARKS

In the Catholic Church you will find every mark specified by Christ to distinguish the one true Church from all others. It is One and United. Everywhere it teaches the same doctrines. Everywhere it has the same Sacraments, the same means of producing holiness. Though spread throughout the world, all members are united under one head, the Pope, the successor of St. Peter.

It is a Holy Church. Thousands upon thousands have found sanctity in her fold. When holiness is not reached it is not the fault of the Church, but of the individual who refuses to abide by the teachings and commandments of the Church.

It is an Apostolic Church. Through 1900 years the Catholic Church can trace her history. The present head is the two hundred and sixty-second successor of St. Peter, the first head appointed by Christ Himself.

It is Catholic. This means simply that it is universal. Spread throughout the world, the membership of the Catholic Church is greater than all other denominations put together. She numbers now more than 400,000,000.

CHRIST’S LIFE IN OUR SOULS

THECHURCH, CHRIST’S MYSTICAL BODY

Christ’s plan for the salvation of mankind, for both man’s spiritual as well as temporal happiness, is to form us into one great family,into one body of which He is the Head and we the members. Christ’s life, the life of God, is the only thing that matters. In heaven there is only the Life of God. Unless God shares this life with others it is impossible to live the life of Heaven. This life God breathed into our first parents. They lost it when They disobeyed God’s command and committed the first sin.

GOD AND MAN

To atone for man’s sin it was necessary that God Himself come down to earth, for the offence against God was infinite and only God could atone. But since man had sinned it was also necessary that man make satisfaction. This satisfaction was wrought by Christ, the Man-God, for He us both God and Man in the same person.

NECESSITY OF BAPTISM

By Christ’s coming, human nature was again united with a divine nature. God’s life was given to man. “I am come that they may have life and may have it more abundantly.” (John 10: 10.) Because of Christ’s coming we can now share God’s life which He shared, not only with the one human nature which He took from the Virgin Mary, but through the Sacrament of Baptism which is a re-birth, we receive the life of God and are made one with Christ. That is why Baptism is so absolutely necessary. That is why Christ said:”Unless a man be born again of water and the Holy Ghost, he cannot enter into the kingdom of Heaven.” (John 3: 5.)

RESTORING GOD’S LIFE

THE POWER TO FORGIVE

God’s greatest gifts are often misunder stood, still more often ignored. Among the chief gifts of God is the Sacrament whereby sins are forgiven. How thankful we should be that Christ, besides setting us on the road to heaven by way of Baptism, gives us still another chance to regain heaven if we have lost it through sin! Such a sacrament was instituted by Christ, and such power to forgive sin was given by Christ to the Apostles when He said:

“Receive ye the Holy Ghost; whose sins you shall forgive, they are forgiven them; and whose sins you shall retain, they are retained.” (John 20: 21, 23.)

INSTRUMENTS OF GOD

“Only God can forgive sin,” we often hear it said. That is true. But this does not mean that God cannot give to man the power to forgive sin. That He did is clearly evident from Scripture. God gave this power to the Apostles, and through them to their successors. Hence how contrary to the Scriptures is the attitude of those who would limit God’s power and refuse to seek forgiveness of sin from those to whom Christ has entrusted this power. They do not forgive of their own accord, but through the power of God. Christ Himself made this evident when He first breathed the Holy Ghost into the Apostles and then gave them the power to forgive sin. Human beings, though entrusted with this real and tremendous power, are none the less only instruments in the hands of God.

CONFESSION IS HARD

We realise only too well that the necessity of confessing sins is often misunderstood and considered difficult. But why? There is only one thing which makes it hard. It is not that the Scripture is hard to understand in this matter. It isn’t even the idea of confessing our sins to a man, for the Scriptures are clear enough here also. It is simply this-It Hurts Our Pride.

Pride has caused every serious evil that ever happened. It caused angels to be cast into hell; it brought about the fall of our first parents; it has brought every one of the religious upheavals through the centuries. In the final analysis it is pride which is at the bottom of individual failures and the failures of nations. Would there be war to-day if individuals and nations humbled themselves and obeyed God?

If, therefore, you are opposed to con fession, be frank and ask yourself why you are opposed. Isn’t it because you are too proud to acknowledge that you have sinned? Is it worth going to hell just to have your own way? Let’s always remember-sin bars us from heaven. To gain heaven we must do it on God’s terms, not our own.

THE REASON FOR RELIGION

UNION WITH GOD

Why bother about religion? Because there is a God and we are His creatures. God made us, and our eternal destiny is to be united with Him forever. But God in His goodness gives us a foretaste of this happiness even in this life. He unites Himself with us in Baptism by giving us a sharing in His life; He restores this Life, if lost, through the Sacrament of Penance; He gives us Himself as food for our souls in Holy Communion. Through religion, then, we are given a foretaste of heaven, even here on earth, because religion unites us with God. In Holy Communion there is an actual physical union, Christ giving us Himself as Food for the soul.

THE TEST OF FAITH

CAN YOU SAY, “I BELIEVE”?

Of all God’s gifts, the gift of Himself is the greatest. How sad so many doubt God’s word in this regard. Surely He could not have spoken more plainly than He did at the Last Supper, when He said:

“Take and eat for THIS IS MY BODY.”

At the Last Supper Christ actually changed bread and wine into His Body and Blood. He promised He would do so after the miracle of the multiplication of the loaves and fishes when he said, “I am the bread which came down from heaven.” Read this promise as told in the Sixth Chapter of St. John’s Gospel. Read also the words of institution as given in St. Matthew, St. Mark, St Luke and in the Epistle of St. Paul to the Corinthians. So plain are the words that we cannot misunderstand and so tremendous their meaning that we dare not misinterpret. Because Christ is God He could perform this astounding miracle and also because Christ is God He could give to others the power to do the same thing. Whom then shall we believe? Christ or a mere man’s interpretation?

As for the Catholic Church she has held consistently through 1900 years that Christ meant just what He said. Hence, the Catholic has the “greatest privilege that even a God could confer, namely, to receive the Body and Blood of Christ in Holy Communion as Food for the soul.

IT’S THE MASS THAT MATTERS

BECAUSE CHRIST IS GOD

Have you wondered sometimes what attracts Catholics to their churches Sunday after Sunday”? Why there is the quietness and reverence in our Catholic churches?

The answer is simple. It is because Christ, as God and as Man, dwells within the tabernacle on the altar. During the Sacrifice of the Mass Christ actually becomes present. Even as at the Last Supper, so in each Mass bread and wine are changed into the Body and Blood of Christ. And when Christ is present it is He Who then offers anew the Sacrifice of Calvary. That is why the Sacrifice of the Mass and the Sacrifice of Calvary are one and the same sacrifice. But because we can be united with Christ we thereby have the glorious privilege of sharing withChrist in the offering of the “Perfect Gift,” namely, the offering of the Son of God to the Heavenly Father. Hence, to offer a sacrifice with Christ Himself is the reason for going to church. It is not just a human form of worship, therefore, but a sacrifice commanded by God from the beginning with the inestimable privilege of offering it in union with Christ Himself, the Son of God.

MEDIATOR BETWEEN GOD AND MAN

Since Christ is the mediator between God and man, it is through the Mass, where Christ is present as God and Man, that every petition of ours ascends to the throne of God. So, also, through the Mass, every gift of God is poured out in abundance upon us. That is why we treasure the Mass!

My dear friends, if the reading of these pages has been of interest to you and your conscience prompts you to investigate the teachings of the Catholic Church more fully, why not ask a Catholic friend to take you to church, or why not attend a series of instructions which any priest will be only too glad to give you?

Religion, whereby we are brought into intimate contact with God, is the most vital matter which concerns our immortal souls. But in seeking for the true religion do not cease your search till you have found the Church which goes back without interruption to Christ, the Church established on earth by Jesus Christ Himself.

Nihil obstat:

F. MOYNIHAN, Censor Deputatus.

Imprimatur:

@ DANIEL MANNIX,

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis.

********

Of Course We Don’t Mean You

SOME PARABLES OF MODERN LIFE

INDEX

In the great secular university that boasted of its broad-mindedness and its freedom of academic teaching three professors lectured in adjacent classrooms. And all three drew large and interested classes, for all three were men who threw into their subjects the brilliance of keen minds and the warmth of enthusiasm.

The first professor had strong communistic leanings. He taught economics with a slant that turned the minds of his students favourably toward Russia and its current “glories,” toward class warfare as the solution of social injustice and the means toward the advancing of the race, toward Marx as Allah and Lenin as his prophet. And his students left the class with the red flag of communism waving in their hearts.

The second professor used English literature to illustrate atheism. He laughed at God as he laughed at the morality of Dickens’ noble heroines, and he piled up for supplementary reading those books which treated God as a worn-out fetish and religion as the fashion of a crude and credulous age. And his students gave up their faith in short order and thought church-going decidedly silly stuff.

The third professor happened to be a convert to the Catholic Faith. He found that history told a pretty interesting story of what the Catholic Church had done for the development of civilization and the arts, and he rehearsed the story as he saw it-simply and honestly-with a real affection for the Church, which he considered the mother of modern Europe and of our entire civilization.

At the end of the year the first two professors were summoned by the president of the university and congratulated on the interest they had evoked from their students.

“I like professors,” he said, “who stimulate their groups to intelligent and original thinking.”

But to the third professor he spoke first regretfully and then sternly.

“Professor,” he said, “I’m afraid I shall have to ask for your resignation. I cannot permit the university classrooms and lecture halls to be used as places for propaganda and proselytism. And I am told that you are constantly trying to influence people-young, impressionable people-in favour of the Catholic Church.

SCANDAL: FIRST-BORN OF DAME GOSSIP

Mrs. Paul Bristow leaned across the little table and signalled to the three who were with her. Her husband and the other couple followed her gesture across the verandah of the country club to the somewhat dim dance floor.

“Doesn’t that man with the carnation in his buttonhole look like Will Gary?” she asked.

The three knitted their brows as they studied the man who was dancing with a small blonde young woman and then nodded agreement.

“He’s a little tall for Gary,” replied her husband, “but there is a slight resemblance.”

“Well, that certainly isn’t Mrs. Gary,” laughed the other woman. “Even at her best she never looked like that cute little blonde.”

They laughed a bit cruelly, and the incident passed.

But at her bridge club the following day Mrs. Bristow remarked during a deal: “There was a man at the country club last night who looked exactly like Will Gary. He had a carnation in his buttonhole, and he was dancing with a cute little trick who certainly was not Mrs. Gary.”

The dealer, who had heard the remark only above her rather noisy, concentrated shuffle, that evening at her dinner party repeated the story with a slight shift in particulars.

“Mrs. Bristow saw Will Gary dancing at the country club the other evening with a blonde. And you know mighty well that Helen Gary is brunette.

“Are you sure it was Will Gary?” asked a guest who was merely making conversation.

“Sure! He was wearing a carnation in his lapel,” she retorted, as if she were giving circumstantial evidence. The next day in two separate offices, at two separate luncheon tables, and in the midst of three separate bridge hands, different persons used almost identical words:

“Will Gary has certainly been running loose lately. He was at the country club the other night, a carnation adorning his Tux, and cutting corners with a cute little blonde. Poor Helen Gary!”

Eventually a friend brought the story to Helen Gary. For a moment she suffered beyond words. Then she smiled as she remembered that on that particular weekend her husband had driven to Chicago with her. She recalled, too, that he loathed carnations.

But the story never died. It was immortal, as all ghosts and lies are immortal.

WHILE SHEPHERDS ARGUE, WOLVES RAID THE FOLD

Once upon a time there was a motorist in dire distress. Nearby were located two repair stations fully equipped to save him. His powerful car had stalled across the main line of the railroad. The front and back wheels straddled the track, and the body was in the path of an oncoming train.

To his intense relief the driver learned that the first train, a limited, was not due for half an hour. So he phoned the nearer repair station and asked that a truck be sent out immediately. As time passed and the truck failed to arrive, he phoned the second station, imploring help.

And behold! the trucks and crews from both stations arrived at the same time.

They looked at the beautiful new car standing in peril; they glanced at the nervous owner; finally they looked at each other.

“What are you doing here?” demanded the driver of the first truck.

“He sent for me,” retorted the driver of the second.

“Well, ifs my job. He sent for me first.”

“You didn’t come. So it’s mine.

“Beat it!”

“Not on your life! I’m here, and I stay. You beat it.”

The owner of the car looked wildly from one to the other. “I don’t care which one does the job,” he cried, pitifully, “but save my car.

“Then tell the other guy to scram,”‘ they both answered simultaneously.

“Why can’t you both do it? Together you’d have the car off the tracks in a second.”

“Together?” retorted the first. “Give him the credit for the job? I’ll do it alone, or I won’t do it at all.”

“That,” the second replied, “goes for me double. He always wants the glory for every job, but he won’t get it this time.”

“Send him about his business, and I’ll do the job in a jiffy.”

“Get rid of him, and I’ll pull you off at once.”

And while the owner pleaded and the drivers glared at each other, the fast freight swept down the tracks and hurled the beautiful car into a hopeless mass.

UNHEARD BELLS

From the lovely spire of the church came the sound of the tower clock’s striking noon. Then slowly, rhythmically, and with all reverent dignity the bell tolled the Angelus.

Below in the crowded street the trolley motorman unthinkingly drowned out the sound with the wild clangour of his warning bell as a truck stopped across the rails.

The truck driver put his hand on his klaxon and made the air hideous with his protests directed at the woman driver who had brought her brakes to a shriekingly noisy and perilous stop before a scattering crowd of children.

The young man hurrying to keep a date muttered, “It’s after twelve, and she’s late again.” And the young lady hurrying to her date heard the bell and whispered to herself, “This will teach him not to count too much on me.

The dentist slammed his office door, hung up the sign “Out for Lunch; Back at One o’clock,” and in happy release bolted for his favourite restaurant, where he bolted his favourite dish. Next door two businessmen gripped hands across the table, and one said to the other, “Twelve o’clock. He didn’t arrive. His option is gone, and we get the business.” Their weary stenographer grumbled through exasperated lips, “If they don’t get going, I’ll miss Marie. And it was her turn to pay for lunch.”

But along the busy street a hurrying little cashier retired into the garden of her heart and saluted Mary, handmaid of the Lord. And a young college man rushing from class stopped and, removing his hat, said the prayer that honoured God come to earth in human form. And between blasts of his whistle and mechanical gestures with his hands a traffic policeman slipped into a cool little house of Nazareth and watched an angel bring to men the loveliest message ever spoken.

For the rest of the world it was just twelve o’clock noon. For three loving souls it was the hour when God stooped to men and dwelt for our sakes in the bosom of the Virgin Mary.

UNDYING LOVE

Ken looked at the picture of the girl in the green leather frame through a mist that blurred and almost obliterated her lovely features. He walked across his room, glad that his roommate had not returned from the holidays, and collapsed rather than sat on the bed. Picture in hand, he looked into her eyes and his own heart.

Just what emotion predominated, he was not sure: a lonely hunger for the girl he had met and “rushed” over four summer week-ends; despair at the hopelessness of his relatively penniless position and his dependence on his people; fury at her father, whose letter to his father had precipitated the break.

Of course, they planned to marry. They loved each other as they would never love another human being. What if she was young and he just a freshman in college? She knew her own mind, and so did he. She had promised to wait, and he knew that nothing on earth would change his loyalty and deathless love. Now they were sending her to college-in California, he thought, ironically, so that rivers and mountains would lie between them.

He rose, his jaw set, his eyes narrowed in grim determination.

“Dearest,” he said, addressing the picture, “they can separate us now; they can’t keep us apart for ever. You’ll wait for me, as you promised. And when I’ve made my first money I’ll come to carry away the only girl I ever will, even can, love.”

And he put the picture tenderly in the bottom drawer of his dressing table. . . .

The two seniors went about the final cleaning of their room with an affected gaiety they were far from feeling. Graduation two days away meant the end of four years’ association and a friendship too deep for analysis. About them trunks yawned, suitcases stood open like consumingly hungry jaws, and drawers cataracted their disorderly contents.

“Gosh, what a dressing case!” groaned Bill.

“Dump the drawers out, and we’ll sort the stuff,” Ken ordered.

Obediently Bill emptied the drawer on to the bed. On top of the mussed ties, holey socks, and forgotten handkerchiefs, programmes, ribbons and scraps of paper lay a picture framed in green leather. Bill picked it up and whistled appreciatively.

“Wow! What a knockout! You’ve been hiding her from me. Who is she, Ken?”

Over his roommate’s shoulder Ken looked at the picture of the lovely girl.

“Oh, a kid I played around with during my freshman vacation. Awfully sweet kid. We were daft about each other.”

“What was her name

Ken paused in honest thought.

“I’ll think of it in a minute,” he said. “Darned if I can remember it offhand.”

THE ARGUMENT FADES

In the presence of the recording angel, flung there through the shattered windshield of their Rolls Royce, stood the dignified middle-aged couple. Delightfully enough even in heaven’s antechamber they were without selfconsciousness or timidity. When one has met presidents and kings and carried the heavy responsibilities of a large corporation and of a distinguished social position, one meets even angels with calm and poise.

The recording angel wrote rapidly in his book the answers to his first questions.

“Sounds like getting a passport,” the woman whispered, in a rapid aside.

“Maybe it is,” the man answered, “ . . . let’s hope to the right country.”

His business affairs were things he was quite willing to talk over with an angel. He had been honest in his dealings, just to his competitors, and a friend to his employees. She felt she had nicely balanced in life her social pleasures with her charitable work, and she told the angel so.

“Married?” the angel asked, smiling at so obvious a question.

“Over twenty-seven years,” he almost bragged.

“How many children?”

For the first time he hesitated slightly. But his wife answered, “Three. Two girls and a boy.” “Only three?”

“Why, yes,” replied the man, his tone a little like the one he used with somewhat duller directors. “When we married, we decided to have three; we felt we were doing full justice to posterity and full justice to the children themselves. .

His voice died out. For the angel was looking off into space in a most disturbing fashion.

“Please don’t think we were always well to do. We had a pretty hard time of it during the first ten years, and we felt that children would handicap us and we would handicap them. . . .”

The angel looked at the two abruptly. From that moment his eyes moved simply from the face of the man to the face of the woman.

“We felt,” she explained, “we could care beautifully for three, give them the best education, leave them well off—”

“—be to them the sort of parents we could not have been to more than three.”

“And I really was not very strong.”

“No. It wasn’t fair to burden her with more children.”

“Most of my friends had only two children. We had three.”

“Small families are quality families. Large families are a little vulgar, common, without the finer instincts.”

“And only the Catholic Church disapproved of our conduct.”

The angel rose and wearily pulled back a curtain.

“He will finish examining you,” he said, stressing the He most significantly.

“Who?” demanded the couple together, sudden terror in their voices.

“The lover of little children,” replied the angel.

TOADS, NOT PEARLS

She was extraordinarily lovely to look at, and he asked to be introduced to her. She smiled when she met him, and his heart missed a beat and then beat thee times in almost syncopated fashion. Yes; she was even more beautiful than he had first thought. And what a smile! what a smile!

“May I have this dance?” he asked.

She smiled, revealing perfect teeth, and said, “Sure.”

“Lovely party,” he murmured in her ear.

“You said it,” she answered, with a quick play of dimples.

“And you are quite the loveliest thing about it.”

“Aw, what a line!” Her blush was exquisite.

“And isn’t the music gorgeous?”

“You’re telling me”

He tried her on the movies. What did she think of “David Copperfield”?

“Lousy,” she replied.

He tried books. “Have you read ‘The Forty Days of Musa Dagh?”

“Gosh, no! Sounds terrible highbrow to me.”

He returned to a certain and “sure-fire” subject. “Your gown is really the most distinctive gown in the room.” “Whadda ya mean distinctive?”

“Why, it fits you, your mood, your style.”

“Say, ain’t you the kidder though!”

“Not at all. I really mean it.”

“Oh, yeah? You and who else?”

The dance was over, and he took her back to her place. He did not know he could be so exhausted. “Thank you very much. You dance beautifully.”

“I bet ya tell that to all the girls,” she replied.

As he walked away, he repeated out of some remotely remembered fairy tale: “Once there was a beautiful girl.

But because she insulted a fairy, she was doomed. Each time she opened her mouth to speak, out fell, not a pearl, but a toad .”

PARALLEL

He tossed the letter aside and walked to the window. Then he turned, strode back to his desk, picked up the letter and read it once more.

Through clenched teeth he swore. Of course, he had known she was rottenly selfish, but just the same it hurt to be thrown over for another chap just because that chap had millions. She had left him, but he was sure she still loved him-as much as she could love anyone.

“Love?” He laughed aloud. “There is no unselfish love.”

IT WAS HOLY THURSDAY NIGHT

Absorption in work carried him successfully through morning. By afternoon he was down to the report that had been haunting his consciousness. Now he considered it carefully. The man who had drawn it up was with a rival firm; he was a trusted secretary who needed money badly, and because of that need had placed this complete statement of his company’s financial position in the hands of a relentless competitor.

On the basis of the information disclosed in this report it would be easy to undersell his rival for a period of about four months. The rival firm could not withstand that pressure.

Yet he hated to crush another man’s business in these days, especially since his informant was a nice chap with a growing family.

“Oh,” he sneered, settling down to assimilate all the treacherous information, “the world moves forward, not on pious platitudes, but through the relentless grasping of opportunities by the strong. A great man can never afford to take time to think of anyone but himself,”

IT WAS THREE O’CLOCK ON GOOD FRIDAY AFTERNOON

The morning sun forced its glaring way through the dawn curtain. The man rolled over and buried his head in the pillow, but even that did not blot out the light. He turned and saw his crumpled evening clothes on a chair. His tongue was thick, and with painful twitchings he acknowledged his headache.

“Some party!” he almost moaned. “A great gang of rowdies! a great gang! Well, get what you can out of life. Money and a good time, that’s all that matters. When you’re dead, it’s all over.”

IT WAS THE MORNING OF EASTER SUNDAY

WHY LEADERS ARE LOST

Tom Jackson slipped off the freight train as it drew into the yards. Externally he looked merely one of the negro tramps who by the thousand were moving about the country. Internally he was laughing as one might laugh at a great, precious, and privately owned joke.

For Tom’s negro mother and father, down in Tennessee, were keeping for him in a lower drawer of a rickety dresser the Ph.D. he had won, less, he thought, in classes than while he’d slung dishes in a hash house on Chicago’s lower Madison Street. Only a sympathetic professor knew how much of that thesis was taken out of the hearts of the men who had talked over the beans and pork and liver and bacon served them by an observantly watchful student waiter.

Now, Tom was in the north again, his career before him. With no overweening pride but with a fair estimate of his own abilities he felt he had a mission to his people. He could teach them. With his gift of eloquence he could lead them. He had been trained to think straight, and he could give them truth. If . .if he was sure of the truth. The days in the hash house and in the university library had taught him that there were two possible truths: the truth that was Catholic; the truth that was communist. And now he had come back to find the real truth before he plunged into a leadership to be gained over his people by patience and skill and labour.

The lovely, restful vesper light filled the parish church. An altar boy was lighting candles that were far enough away to make them seem like little glistening golden stars. Tom, still in his travel-soiled clothes, slipped into a rear pew, regarded the golden glitter as merely a skilful setting, and directed his attention to the young priest who was talking from the pulpit. Keenly perceptive of sincerity, Tom felt what he could not actually know-that the young priest was speaking from his heart things that he believed and cherished, things that he had carefully thought out and now clung to with something like passion. And the heart under the battered old clothes was stirred.

“What hope for any world reformation,” the priest was saying, “until we have filled our hearts with love of our fellows? What chance to gain converts that we do not love? What right have we to plead for the theory of social justice until we have learned to live justly, giving to all men-however dressed, however shaded-their rights, their opportunities, our sympathetic understanding?”

Here was sincerity, force, conviction rooted in- A heavy hand fell on the shoulder of the negro. He looked up into a surly, unfriendly face above working clothes. “Why don’t you go to your own church?” the man demanded. “This is a white church. Your parish is down the street. We don’t want niggers coming here.”

* * * *

The light from the meeting hall streamed out into the street. Tom could hear a voice talking in a high, excited pitch.

“Until we rise in our might and strike with violence and bloody revolution those who exploit us and oppress us, the hated classes who have ground us down.

Tom swung from the sidewalk through an open doorway. Near the door stood a white Communist, his face twisted with the hatred inspired by the speaker’s eloquence. Tom hated hatred as he had loved the love in the voice of the priest, and yet. .

The Communist near the door turned and smiled.

“Hello,” comrade,” he said, and held out his hand.

BUT IN OTHER DAYS . .

The Catholic Associate Press dispatch for May 30, 2942, gives the following synopsis of the television address given last evening over a network that included, besides the earth, Saturn and Mars. The speaker was Dr. Simon Hildebrand, famous lay theologian of Metropolis, United States of Africa.

“The celebration,” said the orator, “of the Feast of Pentecost recalls the glorious miracles of the birthday of the

Church and the fact that the age of miracles is sadly over.

“We in the year 2942 hardly realize that in our miracle-less age we differ not only from the early Christians, but from their brothers and sisters of, say, the year 1942. Those two periods were alike in this: Both were ages of miracles.

“With wonder we read of the miracles which during the twentieth century at Lourdes poured forth from the hands of her who was with the Apostles at Pentecost. Miracles like those of apostolic times filled the age one thousand years ago.

“The popular saint of the period was the Little Flower. Dusty volumes recently unearthed by a research student who was digging in the ruins of the Little Flower Shrine in Lisieux hold records, gathered from all parts of the world, of miracles heaped on miracles. A surprising number of saints were canonized during that era: St. Joan of

Arc, the famous Cure d’Ars, St. Madeleine Sophie Barat, St. Louise de Marillac, young Gabriel the Passionist.

And authentic miracles are recorded for each of these canonisations or beatifications.

“Why, the men of the twentieth century lived in a very atmosphere of miracles. Heaven must have seemed close indeed to those people. From our remoter workaday miracle-less world we regard the twentieth century, that era of miracles and heavenly visitations, as close indeed to the apostolic age.”

MAGIC QUESTION

“Upon your tongue, said the wise old philosopher, I place a magic word. Use it constantly. It will crush your every doubt and frighten away any man who dares attempt to steal your faith.”

The young traveller smiled, accepted the word, and went his way. His bright young college friend met him and bragged:

“I don’t believe in God. Evolution has made God unnecessary.

The magic word tripped from the young traveller’s tongue.

“WHY?” HE ASKED.

“OH, BECAUSE . . . UH . . . WELL THINGS JUST EVOLVED, THAT’S ALL. MY PROFESSOR PROVED IT TO ME.”

Gaily the young traveller laughed and continued his journey.

The scoffer met him with a cynical grin.

“ARE YOU STILL A CATHOLIC?” HE DEMANDED. “I GAVE THAT UP LONG AGO. IT INSULTS THE INTELLIGENCE OF AN EDUCATED MAN.”

This time the magic word came unbidden.

“Why?”

“That’s obvious. It’s perfectly clear. Everyone admits it. I read it in a little blue book.”

The young traveller laughed more gaily than ever and pushed ahead. The girl who met him was sweet to look upon but glib of tongue.

“Religion’s so out of date,” she said. “It doesn’t fit our generation, that’s all.”

But when he uttered the magic “why” she looked puzzled and a bit embarrassed.

“Oh, you see . . . science . . . discovery, modern thought, and all that . . . there’s just no place . . . and the lecturer was so charming when he proved it.”

Gently, for he was gentle of manner, he bowed, smiled, and left her.

So, armed with one magic word, he walked safely among snares aimed at his feet and roses aimed at his heart and sneers aimed at his faith-walked safely through life to God and eternal happiness, which are the only answer to the magic ‘why.’

MAKE WAY FOR THE LADY

The battery of news cameras was trained like rapid-fire guns of the approaching train. Reporters stood with pencils hovering nervously above fresh notebooks. An artist set his pad more firmly into the bend of his arm. A newspaper woman who specialized in heart throbs fluttered about among the porters like a sparrow among redheaded woodpeckers.

Behind the stretched ropes an eager crowd surged forward and back, breaking in waves against the policeman’s tough arms, murmuring louder and louder as the train arrived.

“There she comes!” a voice cried, and those around echoed the cry, knowing very well that she referred, not to the train, but to the famous woman who was passing in flight through their city.

Then out of a day coach stepped a tall, elderly nun. The record of her calm strength of soul was written in every line of her beautiful face. The record of her achievements was carved into the three orphanages, five hospitals, and two social centres that she had built and into the vast educational system which, under her direction, had pushed forward the training of little children. God considered her a most important person.

Cameras clicked; pencils speeded over blank pages with feverish haste; reporters rushed forward, jabbing the air with eager gestures; the lady feature writer swirled down in a cloud of the autumn’s latest advertised perfume; a name passed from lip to lip; and a mighty shout of welcome went up from the crowd.

For, leaning from the platform of the rear carriage, her Hollywood-designed hat and suit striking a perfect chord of colour, was the talking screen’s most famous siren smiling a practised smile as she passed on her way to Reno for her fourth divorce.

ALL IS NOT LOST

Even though the client near his desk was now just another washed-up bankrupt, the vice-president of the famous brokerage house regarded him with more than professional sympathy. One does not soon forget a client whose account ran far into the millions.

“I suppose your accounting department is absolutely accurate?” the client asked, with a wisp of hope in his voice. The vice-president nodded slowly. “Then,” said the client, grimly, “everything is lost. All my investments are gone.

He rose and shrugged his shoulders, wondering in a vague sort of way whether he could start life again at sixty-one.

“Thank you,” he said. “I’m keeping my car and chauffeur for the day. Here’s my address in case-well, just in case.

The vice-president glanced at the pencilled address, clearly in the boarding house district of the city. But before he could comment sympathetically the client was gone.

At the door of his limousine, Peter, chauffeur for many years, stood at attention.

“Just drive . . . anywhere . . . for the rest of the afternoon. Then leave me at my new address. It’s all lost, Peter.”

“It’s all gone.”

“Not all,” protested Peter. But his employer was inside the limousine and the door closed against him.

At the wheel Peter hesitated a moment and then with set jaw turned the car away from the financial district and toward a less familiar section of town. The bankrupt paid no attention until the speed of the car slackened. He looked up to see faintly familiar walls. Quickly he rolled down the window of the car and looked out. Up from a sweeping lawn rose a magnificent building, its windows bright with white curtains. From the playground at the side he heard childish laughter. A group of little boys and girls were at play, with two sisters walking among them. The machine was almost crawling as Peter drove it past the portico over which was graven his master’s name.

With a flash of memory the scene recurred: the old priest who had pleaded so eloquently for the orphans; the silent sisters who had sat awaiting the “great man’s decision”; his impatience with the whole intrusion upon his busy day; the sudden and inexplicable burst in which he had impatiently called his secretary and signed a tremendous cheque (the market had been at its peak, and the sum had seemed hardly more than a good price for which to be relieved of importunity); the newspaper publicity he had hated; the brief visit to the orphanage that annoyingly bore his name. . . . And now children playing about his gift home, and sisters acting as mothers to the orphans of earth.

“I thought,” said Peter, over his shoulder, “you might like to see that it’s not all lost, sir.”

“No,” said the bankrupt, and he suddenly smiled. “That is the one investment the crash has not swept from me.”

He squared his shoulders and faced the future with new confidence.

A WORLD WITHOUT CHRISTMAS

He fell asleep that Christmas Eve and dreamed that Christ had never come to earth and that there was no such feast as Christmas. Bleak, dead December laid its cold clutch on the hearts of men; no evergreens blossomed miraculously in shops and homes; no bright little clusters of holly berries appeared like harmless sparks against fur coats; no blazing trees with their incredibly gay fruit compensated for the dead trees that filled the dreary gardens of the world; no holiday bundles passed from hand to hand to waken smiles in many hearts.

He saw with honour that December 24 did not end in the glory of Midnight Mass, for there could be no glad rebirth of a Child who had never been born. No choirs echoed the “Gloria” of angels. No modern feet ran eagerly in the footsteps tracked by shepherds and Wise Men. The joy of children was not found in hearts that had never yearned lovingly over the Child of Mary.

Human hope lay like a dead ember on the hearthstone of the world. Belief in God’s love was wrapped in a shroud of black despair. Men looked upon one another with disgust and hatred; they had never joined hands over the crib of Bethlehem.

There was, he dreamed, no Christmas, and the world was a sad and terrible place.

That was his dream, and it passed like a dream. For he woke to the sound of the world’s loveliest song, “Adeste Fideles,” and he looked up to see lips smiling with mirth, mankind quickened with love of children because of its love of a Child-and the face of the Infant Christ smiling warmly over the world’s December.

Into the dead world of winter a Child had come with the fulness of life and its best joys.

IT’S EASY TO FIGHT

Mike looked up sheepishly from the toe he had been polishing with nervous concentration on the back of his trouser leg. Then still more nervously he glanced over his shoulder as an ambulance rushed by, clanged around the corner and disappeared.

“Sure, Father, I’m a Catholic. Sure I’ve kept the Faith,” he said, while he studiously inspected his split knuckles. “Then why, Mike,” the priest asked patiently, “haven’t you made your Easter duty? Why do I never see you at Mass? And why does your poor wife come weeping to tell me about your periodic drunkeness?” Mike’s smile was a blend of embarrassment and ingenuousness.

“Sure, Father, I’m a Catholic. Sure I’ve kept the Faith. But, Father, I’m a hard workin’ man, and it’s little time enough I have to be comin’ to church.”

The priest sighed hopelessly; and Mike, relieved of the cold eye that had been holding him impaled, slid past the priest and disappeared down the street with systematic speed. Mike was one of the priest’s worst problems: Catholic-bred, yet never at church, the Faith in his heart but a thirst in his throat that seemed to drown every other consideration.

Unconsciously the priest followed the path of the ambulance round the corner to where it stood backed before a notorious tavern. The hitherto discreetly curtained window had been smashed by a heavy stool that had been hurled though it. One badly beaten figure was reposing in the ambulance, a second was limping into it on the arm of an impatient orderly.

“What happened?” the priest asked of a youngster who ran up smiling and touched his cap.

“Mike did it,” he replied, boastfully. “One of those guys said the Pope was a wop and he hoped Mussolini would put him where he belonged, and Mike cleaned up the whole place.”

The priest walked on with an even heavier heart. It was so easy to fight for the Faith and so hard to live it.

WHO KNOCK . .

About the luncheon table sat three young matrons. All of them had finished a Catholic college course, each in another school; all had worked successfully for a brief space; and all were now happily married. They talked of schools and education.

Said the eldest: “One thing sure, my daughter is going to get a convent education, from kindergarten to college. That is something she is not going to miss.”

The slightly younger, very blonde matron, shook her head.

“I don’t see your point. Personally, I’ve always been sorry that I didn’t go to a State university. The Sisters haven’t the specialized training for college teaching. They are fine in the grammar schools, and I do think their academies are lovely-if slightly impractical-places. But the nuns really are not equipped to teach in college. If I had it to do over again, I’d go to a big school with a big name and big professors.”

The youngest looked at her earnestly.

“Of course, I don’t agree with you,” she said, “but I was just thinking that if the Sisters haven’t all the training they should have (though certainly most of them have the training), it isn’t always their fault. I’ve been told that they are wonderfully generous with girls who can’t afford to pay the tuition fee. I’ve heard that they carry many girls right through college.

“Perhaps, if all the girls in Catholic colleges paid, as girls have to pay when they go to State universities, the Sisters might be able to afford more extensive training and more ample opportunities for themselves.

“We never knew who paid and who didn’t pay tuition in my class; but I’ve always been glad that my tuition was paid in full. It was the least I could give the nuns in return for all they did for me.

The very blonde matron buried herself in her salad. For, like most alumnae who pick defects in their college, criticize their former teachers, and regret that they did not go elsewhere, she was one of the large army carried tuition-free by the gracious charity of the Sisters.

FAILURES . .

He’d been practising law for about thee years, and he knew he was a failure. He had no clients. He had no prestige. He hadn’t won a single case. And he figured rightly enough that there was just one thing for him to do- get a job in a grocery store.

So he did. But he knew he was a failure, and he was ashamed that he’d made such a “fist” of his law. ****

She went out to Hollywood as a beauty prize winner. The home town turned out at the train to see her on her way. There were speeches and flowers, and the mayor kissed her on the cheek, and news cameras cranked as the train pulled out.

Only, she found she lacked one rather unimportant thing. She couldn’t act. She looked heavenly, but before a camera she had all the acting ability of a totem pole.

So she came skulking back to the home town and got a nice job as a waitress. But nobody ever heard her talk about my days in Hollywood.” People don’t listen to failures.

****

Their’s was a fashionable and very beautiful wedding- flowers, ushers, candles, the proper services, “Lohengrin” played with a tremolo stop, vows, congratulations, honeymoon and all. And everybody said, “They are made for each other,” and “Aren’t they the lucky young couple?”

Only, she couldn’t cook-or she wouldn’t. He was bad-tempered and didn’t care who knew it. They were no more fitted to be parents than they were to be Arctic explorers. So they went into the divorce courts, and the judge pronounced their marriage a failure and sent them on their separate ways.

The newspapers headlined, and their friends celebrated. And they actually seemed proud of the fact that they were such rotten failures, such complete “flops” in one of life’s really important vocations.

****

Moral: The only failures that act like successes are the failures that rush into the divorce courts.

THEN THE SUN SHONE

Blue Monday, and a succession of tragedies filling the little study with gloom.

A tearful letter from Jack Carey’s mother stated that Jack was back from the State University and definitely out of the Church.

A newspaper notice on the society page blazoned the fact that little Clare Bowen (it seemed only yesterday that she was dressed in the white of her first Communion) had been fashionably married to her non-Catholic love, a minister officiating.

Carmody, back again and much the worse for wear and tear, had taken another very fragile pledge. And the new book on the table screamed another fierce attack on the Holy Father.

Then the ‘phone rang insistently. Down near the gas tanks, which distinguished but did not dignify the “other half” of the parish, Mrs. Murphy’s little boy with the fractured kneecap was crying to see his friend the priest.

Gloom in his heart and a feeling that the whole world was going to the dogs enveloped the parish priest as he jammed on his hat and started down for the gas-tank district.

And then . . .

Two sweet-looking girls, coming out of church after a visit, paused as he passed, smiled, and said, “Good morning, Father.”

The wildest boy in the block shifted his bat to his left shoulder, touched his perforated cap, and grinned a friendly, if sheepish, greeting.

A battered old Ford cut in to the curb with a terrific grinding of brakes, and a clear-faced chap with a freshman college cap cried, “Give you a lift, Father?” and waved a friendly hand when the priest said he needed the walk.

THEN TWO LITTLE GIRLS, SCIENTIFICALLY ROLLING UP THEIR JUMP ROPE, SIDLED UP HOPEFULLY AND BEGAN TO TROT BESIDE HIM. “MAY WE WALK WITH YOU?” ONE OF THEM PROPOSED, SHYLY, BUT CONFIDENTLY.

And there ahead of him, on the battered porch of the Murphy cottage, the little rascal with the fractured kneecap was holding out his arms in wild delight and shouting his welcome to the priest.

Looking around him, the priest suddenly realised that the sun was shining, the sparrows in the gutter were really song birds, the sky was abnormally blue, and God’s good world was filled with grand and lovable people.

DON’T ADD YOUR BILL

The Incident: The waiter in the night club with elaborate unconcern lays the bill face downwards on the table. The youthful host (age about twenty) picks it up, looks at the red-pencilled total at the bottom of the card, smiles in an expansive way to cover the jolt he has received, pulls out some bills and slaps them down on the table. Deftly the waiter scoops them into his hand.

A larger number of people than you might fancy have noticed that the young man did not check over the items or add up the bill. The incident elicits the following mental comments

The Young Host: I hate tightwads who add up a bill. I’d rather be cheated than be cheap. And I’ll bet everyone around here thinks I’m rolling in money.

The Waiter: I thought he was that kind. Anyhow, if he had added it up, I could have claimed that the three bucks added on was a mistake.

The Frivilous Girl in the Party: Isn’t he grand? He’s a real spender. I wish he was interested in me instead of in her. Maybe I can make him like me before I need that spring coat.

The ‘Bus Boy’: Someday I’ll have money to throw away like that; but, believe me, I won’t throw it away on cheap waiters.

The Other Young Man: Grandstander! But I should worry; I’m not paying it.

The Young Man’s Father (at home and running through his cheque book stubs): He certainly spends my money pretty easily. Let’s hope he’ll go a bit easy on his allowance this month. Money’s tight. But then money’s always tight except when you’re spending somebody else’s.

The Sensible Girl in the Party: I’m sorry. Mother told me once that a man who was a fool with money before marriage would be tight with it afterwards. Free spender in a night club, stingy about the home kitchen. Well, I won’t let myself really like him. He’s such a likeable fellow, too-except for that.

The Elderly Gentleman at the next Table: He’s the fellow that was in the office today with a letter of introduction from Smith of the Third National. Let a careless spender like that into our firm? Not while I live. I must remember to tell Johnson to write to him that we have no vacancies.

The Night Club Manager: Another sucker.

The Young Man himself: Well, we can go now. I certainly made an impression on this place tonight.

THE BEST OF NATURAL GIFTS

“God and fortune have been good to us,” said the eldest of the group that sat near the window of the famous club. “Blessings have been ours in abundance. Sometimes I’ve wondered what you think is the greatest natural gift God gave you.

“Wealth,” cried the first, unhesitatingly. “With that I have bought all other natural blessings.” “Health and strength,” answered the second. “Without them nothing keeps its savour.

“Education and travel,” came the third answer. “They have unlocked for me the world and its treasures.” “My home,” replied the next, “with the lovely family it shelters and the peace and safety I have found there.” “Adventure,” the answer of the last, “and the thrill of the unknown.”

“And you,” asked one of them, addressing the man who had asked the question, “what is your greatest natural blessing?”

“The thing that has made success enjoyable and failure endurable, that has made friendship sweet and enmity unimportant, that enriched wealth when it came and softened the blows of poverty, that was with me in health and did not desert me in illness, that filled my home with peace and went with me when I ventured forth-my greatest gift has been a contented mind.”

And the rest bowed reverently before the most richly endowed.

A MATTER OF A NAME

A famous leader of Arctic explorations, though he had already made the trip twice, sat down and for hours on end checked over even the least details; what to leave, what to carry, how to go, what to avoid. Men called it planning.

The happy couple facing a holiday pored for hours over railroad folders, computed the safest and most pleasant way to their destination, and carefully measured and calculated their funds against likely expenditures. They called it budgeting.

The general knew that the land ahead was tricky and treacherous and beset with foes. So before he moved so much as a company, he and his officers drew up their line of march and decided on the necessary supply bases, the roads to be followed, precautions to be taken against unexpected attacks. The general thought of it as campaigning.

The board of directors of the newly organized company sat down together and for days plotted out their business. They measured sales resistances, noted territories to invade and territories that had wrecked other companies, drew up plans for their salesmen, selected points for advertising. They regarded this as executive control.

The young man sat down and looked ahead to the grave and what lay beyond. He chose the road that would carry him most safely through life, selected his leader, planned his safeguards against pitfalls and failures, thoughtfully decided on what he would need for life’s way and what would be a hindrance. He called it mental prayer.

THE BUZZING OF INSECTS

It was a grand moon. It splashed over the lawns a green silver. It ran long fingers through the girls’ hair and spun from the yellow and brown and black and red threads the loveliest aureolas. The tawdry music of a guitar and the approximate blending of untrained voices became under its magic rich harmonies. Any picnic would be delightful under such a moon. . if it weren’t for the insects, drat ’em. Out of the grass rose persistent little pilgrim ants making their devout journeys to the insides of trouser legs and the inner bands of touchily sunburned elbows and through the unsuspected apertures of shirts and sports suits along the belt lines. And loud-voiced mosquitoes came singing and stinging out of the swamp, which had seemed like a beautiful silver platter when first the moon had lighted it up. And gnats, drawn by the lure of the boys’ cigarettes, were snuffed up with sudden intakes of breath and got into eyes and buzzed in annoying persistence about ears.

“Damn the insects,” growled one of the boys. “They’re driving me crazy.”

“And me straight home,” retorted a girl.

So, though the moon shone so brightly and the grass stretched in pan-velvet sheen and the breeze sighed refreshingly through the maples, the harassed and troubled picnickers left nature to the insects and hastened back where screen doors got between them and the attention of ants and mosquitoes and gnats.

Kneeling that night for his examination of conscience, one of the boys got a light. It hadn’t been a roaring lion, he thought, that ramped from the bushes to drive them helter-skelter to safety. No hippo had thrust his ugly snout into their presence. Death would have followed either of these. But lions are relatively rare and most carefully housed behind bars, or they live in unfrequented jungles. And hippos are not ordinary wanderers through city parks.

So, said he to himself, in the burst of that brilliant light, mortal sin, coming as it does with death in its wake, is rare among good people. Terrible, but rare. When it comes, it strikes swift and deadly blows.

But the thing that makes life miserable, that drives us away from friends and spoils our days and nights, is the persistent stinging of those insects of the soul, venial sins. Ill-manneredness and uncharity, petty lies and meanness, nagging ways and bitter tongues, envy and spite-insects of the soul that spoil life’s picnics.

Lions are deadly but infrequent. Insects are merely annoying, but oh, so exasperatingly insistent. Mortal sin . . . venial sin . . . And kneeling beside his bed, he made some resolutions that meant much to the happiness of the world.

IF I HAD A MILLION

The newspaper headline screamed the provoking question:

“What Would You Do If You Had a Million Dollars?” And the brains of uncounted readers clicked rapid answers.

“Nothing,” said the lazy man, sick of his job and his routine. “Nothing from then on.

“The things I’ve always wanted to do and couldn’t,” said the egoist.

“I’d make things sweet and comfortable and sure for my wife and children,” said the young husband, dreamily.

“I’d buy security for my old age,” said the man upon whose head streaks of grey had fallen terrifyingly. “Every cent would go for pleasure-and how sweetly it would flow!” said the sensualist. “Gratify my hobby,” said a score, one of whom thought of golf at the country club, another of first editions, a third of great music, and a fourth of travel to little-known ports.

“Expand my business,” said the industrialist.

“Buy power,” said the financier.

Pay my way into the blue book,” said the young matron, whose eyes were unhappy and whose soul was discontented.

“Make happier my fellow-men,” said the humanitarian.

“Purchase heaven,” cried the saint. And then forgetting the million, he hurried out to buy heaven with a penny that he dropped into the cup of a beggar.

NO TIME AT ALL

Once upon a time there was a very, very busy man. He had six secretaries, all of whom had sharpened pencils and yellow pads and files that ten clerks couldn’t keep in order. He sat at a polished desk about the size of a boxing ring and pushed buttons that were connected with power plants and machine shops and harnessed waterfalls and vice-presidents’ offices. His six telephones were direct lines to his shops and offices and plants out in Tulsa and Chicago and South America.

“By Jove!” he often cried, banging his fist on the desk and making his letter opener and three office boys jump, “I’ve got my business organized. That’s the secret of success, organization. I sit and do the thinking; let the hired help do the work. In that way I can spend my winters in Florida, my summers in Canada, my springs in Switzerland, and my autumns in South Africa.”

So while his vice-presidents signed his checks and his secretaries wrote his letters and his managers handled the details of his business and his shop supervisors attended to production, he sailed his yacht, played golf at six different country clubs, took three hours for lunch, saw all the new plays on opening nights, and made so many trips to Europe that he was given a commuter’s ticket.

Then one night he fell asleep in his four-poster in his mansion, with its twenty-two servants (this does not include the chauffeurs and the chef who travelled with him) and woke up before the judgement seat.

“As far as I can see,” said St. Peter, “you haven’t been practising your religion for the past thirty years.”

“Oh,” he hastened to explain. “I’m a very, very busy man, and I have never had the time.”

And one of the younger cherubim was unkind enough to laugh.

I ACCUSE . .

Avoiding the eyes of the accused young man, the foreman of the jury answered the clerk’s routine query. After all the prisoner at the bar had stolen a diamond ring from the finger of a wealthy drunk who had fallen asleep in an all-night roadhouse. He deserved jail. “Guilty,” said the foreman, and the courtroom stirred its approval.

But suddenly consternation fell on the whole courtroom. At the back of the accused appeared a radiant figure.

“His guardian angel!” gasped the young woman juror, who was a Catholic. The rest of the jurors heard, without hearing, what the glorious apparition, his face terrifyingly stern, was saying.

“And I find this jury guilty of the crime of this young man,” said the angel. “He was hungry and out of work, and yet you”-he singled out the Catholic girl juror-”bought a fur coat this winter, which made it impossible for you to contribute to the city’s charity fund.

“And you,” he continued, singling out another young woman, “who wear those beautiful rings passed him on the street and pulled your escort away when this prisoner approached to ask for a dime.

“You”-he turned to the foreman of the jury-”laid off five young men like him just before Christmas so that on the first of the year your ledgers might show a better profit. One of these men was the elder brother of the accused.

“While you,” he said, indicating a well-to-do merchant, “because you wanted a favour from a political grafter, voted for a city candidate who has been grafting on Federal relief funds.

“You”-he pointed to an elderly woman juror-”are almost his next-door neighbour. You live in your comfortable house, while on the same street he and his mother and the other children live in a hovel over a stable. All you knew was that the neighbourhood was running down.

“You”-he fastened on a young man-”were stopped by him on the street. He asked for a match. He wanted to talk. You thought he wanted to make a touch. You shrugged your shoulders and walked off.”

“He dropped in one evening about a month ago at his parish’s young people’s club. But he was poorly dressed, so you two”-he picked out a young couple sitting together in the box-”laughed behind your hands and treated him so unkindly that he didn’t have the courage to come back.

“You two believe people should be kept in their place. He was out of luck; but people who are out of luck deserve to be out of luck, you thought. That meant you had no faith in him.

“You”-he levelled his glance at a successful young dentist-”have an excellent practice, a good income. It never occurs to you that you have a responsibility toward the less fortunate of your city.

“And you”-he picked out a fat, complacent businessman -”voted against the Bill that was intended to regulate the kind of tavern where that man with the diamond ring could become drunk and be a temptation to the hungry.

“As for you”-he turned to the intelligent-looking young man in the back of the box-”you had magnificent education, a sound training in the social sciences. But you are content merely to know; you turn none of your knowledge into practice. You do nothing to see that your Catholic religion, your philosophy, your economics be made helpful for such as he.”

The guardian angel turned to the judge.

“Your honour, I find the jury guilty of the crime of my young charge, and I ask sentence upon them.”

The guardian angel disappeared. The judge cleared his throat. The jury dismissed what they considered as a momentary hallucination. The young man at the bar was duly sentenced.

FAITH IS FOR FOOLS

“Faith,” said the flip young cynic, “is the crutch of lame and lazy minds. Fancy staking one’s ideas of right and wrong, of present and future on the word of anyone, God or man! I believe nothing that I have not tested and proved. I take no one’s word for anything really important. Let the stupid believer act on the say-so of priest or prophet; my own experience and fact knowledge are my sole guides.”

So saying, he went out and made the following interesting acts of faith.

He called a certain man father and a certain woman mother because they told him they were his parents. He knocked off work and celebrated what he believed was his birthday because he had been told he was born on 11 May.

A doctor advised him to eat plenty of green vegetables because they were good for him. Obediently he ate them, though thus far he had never shaken hands with a vitamin.

The morning paper carried headlines of the Nicaragua earthquake, and he shook a pitying head over the plight of a land he had never visited and a people he had never seen.

That evening he read the biography of Cleopatra and said, enthusiastically, about a woman who died two thousand years ago: “Clever girl. Sorry I wasn’t alive to meet her.”

At luncheon a scientific friend told him some interesting facts about the rings of Saturn. He was much interested and tucked away the information for future use.

Said he to a friend, “Relativity is the greatest scientific theory of the last hundred years.” He neglected to add that he was not one of the seven men in the world who understood it.

His broker assured him that United Yeast was due for a rise. So he bought United Yeast.

That night as he was summing up the day, he said, in self-approval: “Thank the powers I accept nothing on faith. Faith is for fools.”

And, poor idiot, he really believed it.

TERMITES

“The Equitable Trust Building had a bad crash last night,” said the secretary, chattily, as he laid the mail and the day’s appointments on the glossy expanse of the great Catholic architect’s desk.

“So I saw in the paper. Dangerous sag. They’ll have to tear it down.”

“Too bad, sir. A beautiful building. Strange that faulty construction like that got past the inspectors.”

“Oh, the construction was perfectly sound. Termites did the damages The industrious, destructive, ugly little beggars have been at work. They’re not the size of an average ant, and cleverly they leave the surface smooth and intact. It’s the heart of the piles and wood beams that they eat away. You wouldn’t know there was a thing the matter with your building, till bang! it’s collapsing about your ears. Well, what’s the schedule for the weekend?”

“The committee from the grand lodge of the Masons is calling on you about the new temple. If you weren’t a Catholic, sir, they’d have taken your plan without a second’s hesitation.”

“I know. Inconvenient and expensive sometimes, this being a Catholic.”

“You’ll be conciliatory, sir, if you’re wise. It’s a two million-dollar job. You’re having lunch with-ah-Miss Roberts.”

“Yes. We’re planning to remodel her town house. Have you seen her in ‘Lilacs in Bloom’? Delightful! ‘Phone for a table at Pierre’s.” He smiled in disarming simplicity. “My wife prefers the Plaza.”

“I called the post office at Meadowdale, sir. There is no Catholic church in the town, and none nearer than twenty miles from there.”

“Too bad. Well, a date’s a date. I can’t break up the Oslow’s weekend. Get me a ticket and a seat on the train, please. Is that all?”

“The complete set of Voltaire you ordered will be delivered this afternoon.”

“Thanks. Clever devil, Voltaire, even today. Terribly irreverent, and he does bang the idols about. But brilliant. Thank you. That’s all. I’ll dictate at ten-thirty.”

When some years later the town was startled by the sudden divorce and remarriage of the Catholic architect who had become a brilliant ornament of country clubs, swank weekends, and Masonic dinners, the Catholic groups wondered at the unexplained and altogether unexpected collapse.

Nobody explained to them about moral termites.

HOT AND A HIT

The little knot of “yes-men” gathered round the famous playwright-producer-star and bowed their heads in rhythmical assent.

“It’s certainly hot, sir,” yessed the first “Hot and a hit,” the others caroled.

“Good thing the curtain is asbestos.”

“ Hot even for asbestos.” “A sure-fire success.”

“You’re smart, sir, and nervy.”

Backstage the comedians were still blushing slightly from the skits they had just put through; the chorus girls retired to put on some clothes; the electricians rubbed wrists tired from pulling the switches for black-outs; and everybody discussed in undertones the possibilities of a run, an official closing by the police, a tour of the cities later, or a trip to gaol.

The playwright-producer-star picked up his hat and gloves.

“Well, boys, if you want your play to go over, shock ’em, and shock ’em hard. Goodnight, everybody. I think we’ve got a hot hit.”

The chauffeur of the famous p-p-s had been keeping the good old system warm with a little consoling alcohol. So he failed to notice the ten-ton truck in the road. The body of the p-p-s was removed from the wreckage and given a grand funeral. The show opened two days later, and somebody else made the chief curtain speech.

For the soul of the p-p-s had suddenly found itself the star guest of his Satanic Majesty.

“Front! A room for the gentleman; one with sulphur bath,” said his majesty, genially. “It’s a little dirty, sir, but you like dirt.”

The next morning the little red bellhop transferred the p-p-s and his luggage to a room directly under the sulphur bath. The next morning he was conducted into the furnace room. The next morning he was parked close to the furnace. The next morning the bellhop grinned sardonically.

“You’re being moved directly into the heart of the furnace,” he said.

Right there the famous p-p-s protested and demanded to see his Satanic host.

“Is this a game?” he roared. “Why the rising temperature? Why all the heat?”

“Oh, that,” said his majesty, “is being furnished by your play. It’s a hot hit, my friend, a hot hit.”

*************************************************************

Of Dirty Stories

DANIEL A. LORD, S.J

INDEX

Once upon a time the dirty story had its proper place and stayed there.

Foul-mouthed sailors stepped back on land from their galleys and crude sailing craft. Their legs were stiff from long months at sea. Their minds were dull with the monotony of a voyage of uncounted days. And with their pay recklessly displayed in their dirty fists, they scampered along the waterfront for the dives that were their immediate objectives.

And the dives and the human vermin that infested them welcomed the returned travellers gladly. There they settled down in a gloom that was part bad lighting, part the effluvium of bad breaths, part the stench of unwashed bodies and unwholesome liquor, part that dark, heavy atmosphere in which vice hides and most easily spawns.

FROM THE DEPTHS

Whether the port was Carthage at its prime or a town of Phoenicia, when the Phoenician triremes swept the known seas from Africa up to Britain, or any of the hundred little sea-coast towns of the Isles of Greece, or Ostia, near Rome, the sailors knew that no law held them and no convention or commandment was theirs to obey.

So, among the lowest denizens of the waterfront, the dock rats of the day, these sailors, filled with bad liquor and unrestrained after the cramped confinement of their days at sea, told their stories. Into willing ears they poured their unwholesome amours. They bragged of the women they had seduced and betrayed. They told tall tales of courtesans of other lands. And willingly, too, they listened while other travellers from other ships retailed their crude adventurings, the vulgarities and obscenities that filled their unwholesome minds.

And as they talked, and as the drink loosened their tongues, and the proximity of vice-sodden people urged them on, talk grew loud, tongues grew looser and looser, and laughter, coarse and vulgar and boisterous and obscene, awoke in swelling chorus as dirty story piled on dirty story, born of dirty minds in dirty surroundings for the pleasuring of dirty ears.

A FILTHY TRAIL

No one will ever be able to track down the thousands of dirty stories born in surroundings such as these, or in the taverns infested by the scum of ancient Egypt; stories told by soldiers, for example, just back from brutal wars, in which anything went, provided only it defeated and crushed an enemy, sacked his cities, corrupted and destroyed his women, held him ruined in body, poisoned in soul, the slave of conquering Egypt.

Of course, the slave quarters of each succeeding pagan nation added its quota of dirty tales. In Babylon and Assyria and Persia and Medea, the meanest of slaves, deprived of all liberty to go and do as they pleased, shut off from honourable marriage or the company of decent people, found one liberty permitted them, one licence of which no one could deprive them. They could exercise full liberty for their rotten minds, full licence for their filthy tongues. If they could revenge themselves no other way upon their masters and mistresses, they could at least befoul them with their tongues, telling wild tales of their misdeeds, magnifying their vices into ludicrous adventures, besmirching to the extent of their power the men they hated and the women they despised.

The walls of slave quarters, dug up by modern excavating parties sent out to explore ancient cities, are covered with the obscene scratchings of slaves whose dirty minds and evil imaginings were preserved for later ages to see and blush over. There are walls in Pompeii and Herculaneum not shown to the ordinary tourist. The bespatterings of evil-minded slaves have placed them outside the range of the decent-minded traveller.

FOR THE CORRUPT

The dirty story was, as one might be led to expect, immensely popular with certain types of pagans. While pagan men, in the wholesome ages of each nation as it forged ahead to brief greatness, carefully guarded their decent women, the mothers and wives and daughters of their homes, from contact with the dirty story and obscene tale, the taverns roared their ready response to them. Corrupt Julius Caesar, perhaps with historic correctness, is pictured standing before his troops and regaling them with filthy stories to take their minds off the battle ahead.

Then, when the nations became corrupt, the dirty stories left the taverns and invaded places once regarded as the resorts of the decent. Smart young writers put them into novels and they invaded the libraries. The ancient Roman novels, many of them happily destroyed as the Christian mind revolted against their filth and obscenity, were simply a retelling of the ancient dirty stories that had been born in the dives and waterfront saloonsof a somewhat earlier day, just as Homer’s epics were the retelling of ancient and heroic tales destined to happy immortality.

INTO THE ANCIENT THEATRE

The dirty story, in a somewhat new setting, moved into the ancient pagan theatre. For a ghastly period it presented as its characters, not men and women, but gods and goddesses; and, while the coarse-minded populace roared in rough, pagan laughter, actors and actresses enacted in sordid detail the stale but still filthy stories, now in the person of the discredited gods and goddesses of their no longer accepted religion.

If one could trace the history of a dirty story, its course would take him through the ugliest of alleys, the filthiest of gutters, resorts in which the soul would quiver with fear, human habitations the stench of which would drive back the unwary trespasser.

He could follow the story into the dirty galleys and forecastles of ancient pirate craft, where men with blood on their hands and vice in their souls rolled on smelly tongues the lustful adventures and the lascivious songs that filled their hours of leisure.

He could find it repeated by the gross Vandals, as they came down upon Europe with rapine as their object, pillage as their motive, and the fair women of Christendom as their hoped-for reward.

CHANGING, YET THE SAME

It would reappear in the voluptuous harems of fat-bellied viziers, to whom gross eunuchs and licentious favourites rehearsed the ancient tale for their coarse delight.

The story would emerge in slightly changed form from the waterfront dives of Marseilles or Port Said, from the rank atmosphere of houses of ill-fame, from frontier saloons or Cantonese dives, from the mining-town joints of frontier countries, from the flat of a Parisian courtesan.

But always from among the lowest or the most depraved. The lowest and loosest conceived it. The depraved accepted it. The immoral passed it on to those who were themselves immoral, or whom they hoped to make immoral. It was the companion of drink at its most debasing, of people at their most debased. It rose to the surface of supposedly polite society only in those eras in which morals had dropped to low and sodden depths. It invaded the theatre during brief periods when the theatre, born of religion and consecrated to high ideals and noble passions, sold out for the favour of a rotten king, the patronage of a corrupt multitude, the pleasure of the lowest elements of a civilization.

It remained a mouth-to-mouth tradition, and the mouths were strong with the stench of bad liquor and evil living. It was held within the covers of only a kind of subterranean book and booklet that passed covertly, in an ugly “grapevine” literature, chiefly among the very young.

THE DECENT DECLINE

But decent society declined to accept it; or, accepting it, admittedly remained no longer decent. Literature that laid any claim to greatness or held any hope of genuine immortality declined to flirt with its easy possibilities. The theatre which had any aspirations beyond the patrons of the pit, of whom Shakespeare speaks with undisguised contempt, knew that the story offered no real material, for its dramatic weaving.

The dirty story never died. It was as old as the depravity of the first depraved man and woman. It was as historic as sin. But the dirty story, and even more the dirty story teller, knew their place. And, in the main, they kept it. Until . . .

Until it has happened, to the eternal disgrace of our age and form of civilization, that the dirty story, born in the filthy minds of the lowest of pagan people, bred in the waterfront dives and gutters of decadent cities, rearranged by every group of cut-throats and rotters, of prostitutes and panders in successive generations, has finally got into society.

WELCOME TO FILTH

The kind permission of the ladies and the willing co-operation of the men of our age have inducted the dirty story into our homes, our parties, our dinner gatherings, our clubs, and our general social life. The dirty story, old as the ages, stale as a musty parchment from the tombs of Assyria, a word-of-mouth tradition among the lowest bred of every civilization, the invention of degenerates and the favourite entertainment of the corrupt, has been marked with the approval of cultivated men and supposedly Christian women in the years of grace of the second third of our 20th century.

In a burst of magnificent stupidity, this ancient, dusty, stale, rotten survival of what is worst and lowest in humanity has been treated and accepted as if it were new, fresh, sweet, clever, even wholesome. Thank heaven, there are still the sound millions who decline to accept the rotten refuse of civilization’s lowest ebbs. But the number who call themselves ladies and gentlemen and profess to be Christians and still make the dirty story part of their normal social life is embarrassingly large and distressingly evident.

UP FROM THE DREGS

From the cheapest of burlesque houses, that had borrowed their plots from smoking-room stories, which had been, in turn, derived from the dive and the brothel, the Broadway producers stole ancient jokes and stale stories as the basic plots of their revue sketches. And the authors filled their plays with double-meaning lines and smutty situations begotten in the maggoty minds of degenerates.

The same stories that had been the traditional and spoken literature of stables and docks and flophouses and the jungles of tramps, became overnight the source books for the successful novelists and the writers of popular short stories.

While society, even the society that claims to be Christian and of a Sunday professes to be Catholic, rolled the ancient dirt off its tongue and accepted the salacious tales, at first shamefacedly, then furtively, and finally with open and unleashed laughter.

FROM SOILED LIPS

Our modern men and women, old and young, have re-learned and adopted what pagan galley slaves and soldiers, returning from pillage and rape, the vilest off-scouring of slums, lustful barbarians and panders of every race long felt to be their own special and grotesque Golden Legend, spoken, though seldom committed to writing, in their own vile argot.

So the dirty story appears at dinner parties, is flipped about among women over the bridge table, is told by young men to young women and by young women among themselves, is repeated in almost any sort of company, and used as the salty accompaniment of drinking sprees. How the men and women, who in the darkest corners of ugly cities first generated these filthy tales, would stare and then roar with laughter to find their ill-begotten brood adopted by those who pride themselves on being our actual or potential leaders!

VULGAR OR WORSE

From the beginning of any discussion of this subject, it must be clearly understood that there is a complete moral distinction between the story which is vulgar and the story which is obscene. Conveniently they are often lumped together under the general classification of dirty story. In reality they have only the common denominator of generation in soiled imaginations.

The distinction between the two was made, in passing, by a dramatic critic who recently remarked of a certain brilliant revived play that it has proved one could be amusing and gripping without references to plumbing or adultery.

The vulgar story deals, so to speak, with the plumbing. It stresses physical functions which, while normal and natural, are decently hidden by polite society for its own greater peace of mind and the improvement of human association. But in themselves they are not sinful nor in any way morally wrong.

The obscene story, on the other hand, deals directly with wrongdoing of a special type, sins against the proper sex relation, with notable emphasis on adultery, seduction, and, regrettable in our era, our perversions and abnormalities. They are recitals of the vices and passions and base desirings of men and women, treated as if these sad crimes were funny and subjects for laughter.

TOO CRUDE FOR US

Vulgarity is certainly no pleasant thing to meet with in life. Almost as little pleasant is it to the refined mind to meet it in a story. Few things are harder on a refined, decent person than to be thrown into constant association with a vulgar person, to be subjected to his rough, uncouth, ill-bred, ill-mannered ways. There are certain elements in life that are naturally unpleasant, and contact with them is likely to inspire disgust. The higher the type of civilization, the more it tries to refine and disguise or hide away from the public eye or private comfort these slightly unpleasant, though natural, factors.

But the teller of the vulgar story thinks otherwise. He regards these things as amusing-in fact, quite delightful. His vulgar story drags them into the light. It obtrudes them on the attention of perhaps quite sensitive listeners.

Now, there’s nothing morally wrong about this, except in so far as it may be distinctly uncharitable to make others uncomfortable by a garbage type of humour. It is, and we apologize for the unpleasant candour, as unmoral as a belch- and as completely unpleasant and vulgar. But, ethics and morals aside, there is nothing much to be said in favour of a mind which finds amusing and the subject of jest things that are in themselves offensive, ugly, repellent, and, by common consent, banished from decent society.

Still, if one chooses to be vulgar, one can be vulgar and still be moral. The same is not true of one who deliberately tells or listens to the obscene story.

OR OBSCENE

The obscene story, the story that regards lust as funny and adultery as amusing and seduction as a grand joke, that generates the sort of laughter never heard except in response to this type of wit, a laughter strained and nervous, blatant and raucous, slightly if not notably hysterical, high-pitched in women, low-keyed and convulsed or guffawing in men- that is the type of story which properly is meant by dirty. And it is entirely different from the story that is just physically unclean, naturally noisome, even decidedly fetid.

The fact that the obscene story excites a different type of laughter from that accorded any other class of humour is significant. Most laughter is a wholesome breath blowing away our cares and worries. It is a happy gale of human relief. It is the response of the happy mind. It is as wholesome as rain, as relaxing as a great, generous yawn, as refreshing as sleep, innocent enough to be shared by a little child and an ageing mother, by a nun and an athlete exulting in the sun; by a poet who has found his true love and an adventurer who has ended his quest; by a father in the joy of his children and an inventor in the triumph of his achievement; by young couples facing life together or the failure who has fought back to success. Such laughter is of nature and of God.

UNCLEAN LAUGHTER

The other laughter is, as anyone knows, instantly recognized as unwholesome. It is not even as honest as a sneer. Born of uncleanness, it is in nature and essence unclean. Describe it, no one adequately can. But anyone can recognize it, even from a distance, as the ugly exhalation following an ugly reaction.

Now, all honesty compels the admission that from one viewpoint obscene stories are funny. They have a form of humour about them. For they are founded on incongruity, and incongruity is the foundation of all humour, whether true or unhealthy.

Humour is based on the unexpected, the unfit, the things out of place and out of line, provided always that the watcher or listener experiences no sense of personal danger. The classic instances of humour are many. For instance, the welldressed man who puts on his silk hat and pulls on his white gloves, only at the next step to plant his foot on a wet mop and slide the length of a flight of stairs. We don’t expect men in silk hats to go sliding down the stairs. It is unexpected, out of line, against what we think proper, congruous; and because the episode comes as a surprise, catches us unawares, yet brings no sense of personal danger, we laugh even without so willing.

WHY FUNNY?

A cat is not funny. In fact, cats are widely regarded as serious, rather proud, slightly mysterious, very selfish, and even somewhat sinister creatures. A cat on the back fence is not funny. But a cat suddenly discovered walking down the aisle of a church during a wedding immediately evokes laughter from the pews. The sacredness of the setting and the seriousness of the occasion make the cat out of place, and hence funny.

There is nothing funny about a man’s tripping and falling. But if a man trips and falls as he walks up to the President to get a medal for being the champion tap dancer of the United States, the spectators will burst into roars of laughter. The statue of a national hero is something that we regard with solemnity;-a mouse is (with the exception of our beloved Mickey) notably unfunny and to many frightening. But if, when a statue of a national hero were unveiled, a mother mouse with a troop of baby mice were solemnly to stroll out of the hero’s high, stone boot, all who saw the untoward, unbecoming, unexpected event would shriek with mirth.

OUT OF PLACE

Now, the plain and unalterable fact is that the material of the dirty story is not only completely unfunny; it is repellent, crass, ugly, and frequently tragic. Nothing funnycould possibly be found in a man’s tricking and seducing a young woman, an episode the sequel of which would probably be written, not in smiles and laughter, but in tears and perhaps a ruined life. Adultery is an ugly crime against which the laws of every land, civilized and savage and barbarous, and of every age, Christian and Jewish and Moslem and pagan, have been levelled. Surely only tragedy can be found in the deception of a trusting husband by his wife, the tricking of a wife by a philandering husband, the breaking of marriage vows and the betrayal of a love on which is established the safety of our most sacred institutions of marriage, home, and family.

And the saddest of all human beings are those degenerates who linger on the border line between sanity and insanity, the objects of interest only to the criminal pathologist or the student of abnormal psychology, pitiable in themselves, disgusting to normal men and women. Their acts are scarcely the actions of human beings, and are far more like those of animals than like those of creatures endowed with self-will and self-control.

Yet, when told cleverly, stories of adultery and seduction and the abnormalities of sex seem to be funny. And they are, in the broader sense; for, if you neglect the tragic content of the stories, they are perfect instances of incongruity, unfitness, unexpectedness, the obtrusion of the unusual into a sacred and important relationship. They correspond to the black cat in church, the dancer toppling into a fall as he receives his medal, or, let’s say, a dignified justice of the Supreme Court suddenly jumping on to his desk and doing a highland fling or a skirt dance.

SACRED SETTING

Indeed, the basic sacredness and importance of sex, its consecration through the sacrament of matrimony, the very beauty and value of love, are the background against which the incongruity of man’s betrayal of his dignity and of his high responsibilities stands out in sharp and sudden incongruity. The Supreme Court justice suddenly doing a jig is less incongruous than the man betraying his possibilities as a father. The tap dancer falling down as he gets his medal is not as out of line as a young woman falling when her innocence and virtue are essential for the future of our race. The mice troopingout of the hero’s high, stone boot are less of a fundamental surprise than the ugly desire of seduction creeping out of the mind of a man as he faces the sacred and beautiful temple of the future which is a young woman.

With these elements of incongruity it is possible to make a dirty story sound funny. But only-and this is important- if one shuts his mind to the ugly content and to the tragic consequences of the acts related. If the man in the high hat fell and broke his neck, the episode would not be even slightly humorous. If the cat moving down the aisle of the church were suddenly recognized as the bearer of cholera, the episode would abruptly become tragic. If the mice trooping from the boot were recognized as carriers of the black plague, no one would see any humour in the situation. And only by refusing to see the ugly, horrible consequences of the adultery or seduction, by declining to note the deception, dishonesty, the pollution of the sources of human life, the human selfishness and animal passion, can the listener find the dirty story even mildly amusing.

SHARP CONTRAST

Yes, we laugh when a man goes to sit down in a chair and misses it. We are boisterously amused by a chap sitting on his own hat. And the incongruity of a man who through sins of sex hurts himself, smashes things dear and precious, and makes a horrible fool of himself, a woman, and the human race, may seem funny, but only because of the sharp contrast between what is being done and what should be done. It is the perfect instance of a sacred background against which a man or a woman or both make themselves ludicrous and absurd.

SOILING THE SACRED

And the content, the material of the dirty story?

We have not the space here to discuss such obvious things as the sacredness and importance of the whole sex relationship. Only a fool can fail to see its vital relationship to the individual and the future of the race. We need not stress what all decent men have maintained in primitive societies, in civilizations, in chivalry, all through history. We can never forget that upon the safeguarding of sex depends the safe entry of the whole of future humanity into the world and eventually into the next.

Even this brief reminder, however, is necessary, for the reason that the content of the dirty story is a direct effort to destroy all the sacredness and beauty of the sex relationship. It goes on the supposition that marriage is a comic thing, to be treated with ribald laughter. It makes the adulterer a humorous hero, and the adulteress a happy and funny creature.

CAN THIS BE FUNNY?

The ugly seduction by which a man betrays the innocence of a woman and hurts her possibilities for pure love and stainless motherhood becomes in the dirty story the subject of laughter and ridicule, The perversions of sad unfortunates are treated as ludicrous and laugh-provoking. In general, all dirty stories deny in their whole tenor that the safeguarding of the sex relationship is important or essential for the safe bringing of children into the world. They bid men and women laugh at love and decency, and find fun in the way by which God and nature ordained that little children should be conceived and born. And with sinister innuendo they point the finger of ridicule at decent people, and, as far as they can, laugh them to scorn.

Beyond all else, however, the dirty story is a betrayal of the whole of womankind. A dirty story is not levelled at any one special woman. In fact, the women of dirty stories might well be anonymous. The dirty story is levelled at womanhood, at wives and mothers and sweethearts and all those who by their sex are united with the woman who is the object of the tale’s ugly attack and laughter.

MEN ONLY

For centuries the dirty story was passed from man to man, and kept a kind of secret among the males of the human race. The sort of man who engaged in the practice of telling and enjoying dirty stories was ashamed to have women, especially the women he loved, know how cheaply and vilely he held the things that were sacred and important to them. Prostitutes heard the dirty stories from the men who despised them sufficiently to share even the spoken evil and sin with them. But good women were supposed to be ignorant of this obscene view, with which some of the men, even of their class, regarded womankind.

For obscene stories are stories of passion, and passion is not fastidious. It cares little for a specific woman. Passion is concerned with the whole opposite sex. While a man who is really in love, loves deeply one woman, the man on flame with passion cares little for any particular woman and reaches out for woman, any woman, womankind.

So the dirty story was not directed at any particular girl in any particular time and country; it was aimed at all women, at all womanhood; at the sacredness and beauty of the human relationship in love and marriage. The heroine or victim of any story was any woman who could be tricked into evil. The dirty story had for its subject not some special, unfortunate woman, but any woman who could, by the ingenuity of man or the bad luck of circumstances, be inveigled into sin.

LAUGHING AT WOMEN

The dirty story, in consequence, laughed at all womankind. It did not spare the mother of the man who told it. It had no mercy upon his wife or sweetheart. It made a joke of the exquisite way in which love leads men and women to the procreation of children. It gave the world for its laughter an ugly caricature of love; for, while love stories tell of the unselfish and generous devotion of a man for a woman, and of a woman for a man, all leading toward marriage or a splendidly brave renunciation, the dirty story tells of lust and passion, probably of two strangers drawn together like dogs in a gutter, an episode ending in a brief moment of seduction, or a husband or wife outwitted and betrayed.

CLEVERNESS NOT NEEDED

Of course, the most obvious thing about dirty stories is that they require in their authors little or no cleverness. The dullest and stupidest and least educated types of people have produced most of them. Civilization has done hardly more than dress the stale and ancient obscenities in the clothes of the period.

Cleverness is just about the last thing needed for the invention of an immoral dirty story. Incongruity is too sharp and obvious for that. There is nothing very difficult about depicting a cat walking down the aisle of a church or a man in a silk hat falling downstairs. If the Supreme Court justice cares to make a fool of himself, he does not need to be clever to get a laugh. Everything is all set for the humour there. So, in the case of the dirty story, the stage is all arranged. Dolts and dullards can be funny if they care to. In fact, they are the very ones who lack the brains necessary to see the consequences of what they joke about. The fool is the perfect teller and retailer of dirty stories.

So, today, even if the ancient jests and tales are tricked out with glittering epigram and smart literary form, they are still the children of the dull-witted, alcohol-stimulated, crudely-sexed illiterates of ancient races and primitive instincts.

STALE STUFF

With something like sadness over human gullibility, we realize that all that can possibly be said of sex in the form of dirty jokes was said perhaps five thousand years ago. The modern variants were already contained basically in the Decameron, the Arabian Nights, Petronius, the Roman novelists, and the dirty plays and stories of Greece. They were scratched in symbol and picture-writing on the walls of ancient cities.

Acceptance of the dirty story makes the listener the associate of the vilest characters. Repetition of the dirty story marks the teller as cursed with a gutter mind.

Why the first statement? Well, there are certain persons with whom decent people would prefer not to associate: rakes and seducers, adulterers and betrayers of women, prostitutes and adventuresses, fallen women, the sad degenerates who are fit only for confinement in psychopathic hospitals.

MEET THE SCUM

These types of characters do appear in serious literature. But it is left for the dirty story to present them, not as the sad, ugly, repellent people they are in life, but as happy and charming and infinitely funny.

The dirty story asks us to welcome these people as associates of our mental life. We admit them when they come knocking at our ears, though we should, in all probability, die rather than admit them to our houses and our personal society. Indeed, when the dirty story appears at the dinner table or at a party, among groups of people anywhere, it is as if these rotted sinners, fresh from their lust and adultery and seduction and passion, had been admitted as welcome guests.

AT THEIR WORST

There are, besides, scenes and situations and human emotions and actions so sinful and vile and evil that decency shuts them away in darkness. Even the sinful do not easily lose their sense of shame. Shakespeare summarized this in the statement that lust and light were deadly enemies. The dirty story, however, flinging all human decencies to the winds, drags these situations out into the light and bids the sinners do their vilest actions in broad day or in the soft light of carefully lighted candles. And it bids the spectators applaud the lecherous conduct with their laughter.

SPEECH BETRAYS

“As a man thinks,” runs the ancient truism, “so he is:” “Out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaks.” One needs only to quote the two immortal phrases, and their application to the teller of dirty stories, or to the man or woman who welcomes them, is terrifyingly obvious.

If a man thinks laughingly and approvingly of vile people and evil situations, if he finds joy and mirth in passion and adultery and seduction and degeneracy, what precisely can be said of his mind? What are we to think of his heart? And, having given a swift glance toward mind and heart, we dislike to think what he himself must be in ideals and desire and perhaps accomplished actions.

From approval to action has always been an easy step. That is why men of evil intent have consistently worn down the defences of innocence with the battering of the dirty story. One cannot laugh at criminal passion without swaying slightly toward it. Adultery remains funny in theory only a short time. The seducer in the story is a model for the seducer in life. And so, as history and human experience very clearly indicate, men have thought and men have acted.

If a woman is asked to laugh at the betrayal of one of her sex, the story teller, more than likely, will be happy if she follows the same betrayed course. Laughter at virtue cannot be long continued without laughter shaking the high defences of virtue.

CONSEQUENCE OR CAUSE?

Whether the dirty story is the cause of immorality or merely a sign of immorality already existing is a question that can be debated. But not for long. The point on which both sides will agree is that immorality in fact and a contemptuous attitude toward marriage and love and motherhood and the loyalty of husband and wife and the whole of womankind inevitably accompany a widespread prevalence of the dirty story.

Pagan nations that have been notoriously lustful have been ardent devotees of the dirty story. The modern pagan groups of society that have, with gusto and a great smacking of their lips, revived those ancient dirty tales are precisely the same groups that run quickly to divorce, regard the sex relationship as a matter of light and casual bond, and profess an open contempt for what they like to call convention and an outmoded morality.

However, the debate can be settled with one simple fact. Though the dirty story may arise out of the heart of a nation or people already badly corrupted, that same dirty story, passed along, quickly corrupts the next generation, and spreads the practice of lust and the free exercise of passion as almost nothing else can. Through the dirty story the small boy and the growing girl learn. The dirty story may flow from a contempt of love and marriage and womankind and little children; it is one of the most powerful means of keeping this contempt alive and active.

ASHAMED AND AFRAID

The biggest difficulty in the way of handling this situation of the dirty story and its modern prevalence is the fear of what the teller will think of us. We moderns are quite too sensitive about hurting the feelings of people who should be hit over the head with a club. We are ridiculously careful not to offend those whose whole manner is offensive.

A young woman, let’s say, is with a party of friends. One of the group, a young man, tells a dirty story. If the girl had the sense of a child of five and the courage of a young rabbit, she would let him know that she considered his story an insult. It is that and nothing less. Why should he think that she would enjoy a yarn that drags into her company rakes and prostitutes, or that calls for laughter because another young girl has been seduced and betrayed? And what guarantee has she that the man who tells such a story with relish and approval would not expect her to relish and approve the same course of conduct applied to herself? She is a fool to permit it. And it is regrettable that the good manners of the world are not all on the side of the clean-minded and the decent-tongued.

HIS FUTURE WIFE

A young man is in love with a young woman. He realizes quite clearly that the very relationship which, degraded and caricatured in the dirty story, will, if he marries the girl, be some day sanctified and consecrated by a sacrament, following a great and beautiful love. A dirty story is told. The girl laughs approvingly.

What can he think? The girl likes the association of vile people introduced to her in the story. She responds eagerly to the filthy scene presented. She regards her sex relationship, which he hopes to offer her in marriage as the divinely ordained way of expressing love and begetting their children, as the subject for obscene laughter. She finds adultery and seduction, not degrading, but funny.

He has two courses-one to delude himself that she is so thoughtless or ignorant that she laughs without grasping the point of the story; the other, to conclude that the girl with whom he hopes to share his life regards crimes against sex as very funny, that she does not mind his assumption of an attitude which degrades and pollutes her own sweet womanhood.

THE SACRED POWER

The Church, quite rightly, has held in high respect the creative power with which God has invested a man. It regards sex as sacred, because essential to the future of the race. It consecrates with a Christian sacrament the operation of that power. Its renunciation can be dedicated to God by a vow of religion. A dirty joke makes this divine power a soiled and disgraceful thing, reducing it to gutter level.

With few human organs is there more of sacred association than with the tongue of a man or a woman. That small organ is capable of bringing to the human race and to each individual in its moments of deep happiness, opportunities for great joy.

The tongue of the teacher passes on wisdom. The tongue of the poet sings of beauty and high ideals. The tongue of the mother chants her lullabies and teaches the child the richness of her own soul. The tongue of the lover speaks of romance, and into a few impassioned words pours the depths of his inmost soul. The tongue of a woman was given for sympathy and love. The tongue of a man rings with courage and aspiration. The tongue of the leader summons to high achievement. The tongue of the priest calls God from heaven and banishes sin from the soul.

The tongue makes possible the sweet association of friends and the dear intimacies of love. The tongue passes on from age to age our history and the record of our race.

And for a Catholic, the tongue is the red satin cushion upon which rests the Son of God, hidden lightly in the bread of the Eucharist.

DRIPPING POISON

Then comes the tongue of the teller of dirty tales, dripping its poison and spilling its filth. Like a blood-red stiletto, it stabs innocence and kills purity. It awakens evil thought and inspires temptation. It passes on from ear to ear, from soul to soul, the rotten dreams and imaginings of diseased and repulsive minds. It tempts to sin as not even the devil himself can tempt. It cries aloud against the sacred associations of a man and woman, and mocks at all the unborn children of the world. It is beyond almost all else, the sower of evil and the spreader of death among souls.

If the degradation of a noble organ is always a terrible thing, we need not do more than indicate what the degradation of the tongue means when this organ, destined by God to spread truth and promote friendship and knowledge and hope and love, becomes the instrument for broadcasting the dirty story.

THEIR WORK GOES ON

One terrible quality about the dirty story is its seeming deathlessness. Dirty stories never die. They go on and on through the centuries and move endlessly across the world. Any man who tells a dirty story may be sure that he has given an impetus to a source of evil that he will never be able to stop or withdraw.

The dirty story tossed out into the world continues its work without apparent interruption. It passes from mind to mind, from tongue to tongue, from soul to soul. A thousand years after its evil birth, still vigorous, still strong, still rotten, but never completely disintegrating, always decaying but never dead, it goes about its work of pollution and ruin.

Can anyone in his right mind and with even a slight perception of what he does, willingly accept the responsibility for pushing on its way such a deathless source of evil? Even if he had no faith nor hope nor belief in the supernatural, he could not easily burden his conscience with an act the consequences of which seem to be without end.

AGAINST THE PURE CHRIST

About the condemned Christ rose the babel of hideous voices. Loudly and vehemently the tongues of evil men and women clamoured for His death. If impure thoughts crowned Christ with thorns, if impure acts laid the scourge upon His back, we may be certain that impure tongues long accustomed to dirty stories clamoured loudly for His death.

Certainly, the only possible way in which the dirty story, the filthy joke, the rotten tale could be associated with the sweet-spoken, pure-minded, lovely-tongued Christ would be as one of the major causes of His death. The evil tongue would inevitably be silent in His presence. It would not dare to spill its hideous burden where He could hear. But it would not long hesitate to cry aloud for the death of the pure Christ Whom every dirty story grotesquely, wantonly insults.

PRO LUCIFER

No, there is no place in decent Christian society for the dirty story. In fact, it is out of place in any society that lays claim to the decencies of life.

It disgraces even the gutter and dive and brothel from which it sprang. It is an inhuman and anti-social thing, fit only for the most bitter enemies of mankind. And those bitter enemies must find it infinitely charming and refreshing. Since Lucifer and his hosts hate mankind with an abiding hatred, since anything that degrades and despoils men and women is dear to them, how they must rejoice that the dirty story has taken its place in modern society! We can fancy the devils, in mock gratitude, bowing before the teller of the dirty tale. They have found in him (and horrible to confess, in her) a powerful ally. Almost they can entrust to him and her their work of polluting human souls. They can be grateful to the man and woman who, through the repetition of the dirty story, have helped them to do their work against God and the human race.

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Of Interest To Catholics

HOW TO ENSURE THAT YOUR CHILD LEAVES THE FAITH

INDEX

1) Avoid the use of the word “sin.”

- It may develop in the child a “guilt complex.” This will prepare him to believe that there is no right or wrong.

2) Never take your child to confession.

- This will ingrain the concept that no one sins and there was no need for Christ’s life, passion, death, and resurrection.

3) Drop off and pick up your child from Catechism class and never take them to Mass.

- If Mass is not important to you how can it be for your child.

4) Never Pray, say a Rosary, or read the Bible at home.

- The child will see that the faith is something that is only preached not practiced.

5) Never discuss or teach the Catholic faith in your home.

- The child will think if Catholicism is not worth talking about why bother.

6) Pick and choose Catholic teachings you wish to follow.

- That way your child will learn their opinion is superior to God.

7) Come to Sunday Mass informally clad.

- Not being well dressed makes a statement that the Mass and the Blessed Sacrament are not worth respect.

8) Only come to church on holidays such as Easter and Christmas.

- The child will see that you are a hypocrite.

9) Don’t have religious pictures, crucifixes, or statues in your home.

- This way the child will not be frequently reminded of Christ and His Church.

10) Tell your child that one religion is as good as another.

- The child will doubt the Holy Roman Catholic Church is God’s one true church and Christ’s words, “I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.” (John 14:6)

JUDGE NOT?

Tolerance has become the ultimate virtue in our society. This is made evident by the Bible verse one hears quoted most often “Judge not, lest ye be judged.” (Matt 7:1) Even those who indulge in sin and debauchery use this quote repeatedly to deflect any criticism by any well meaning Christian. The question arises, does this verse really mean that one can not condemn sinful behaviour? The answer to this question is a resounding NO. The purpose of this verse is to caution one not to be self righteous and never to determine the ultimate guilt that someone incurs before God.

The Catholic Church has always taught that one of the spiritual works of mercy is to admonish the sinner. We are to judge the moral worth of human actions. The Ten Commandments and all the moral teachings of the Bible are judgments of behaviour, and it is the responsibility of believers to make these divine judgments known to themselves and to the world at large. The New Testament declares, “Have no fellowship with the unfruitful works of darkness, but rather reprove them.” (Eph. 5:11) So faithful Catholics must correct their neighbours in love and kindness in order to help them from the wickedness and snares of the Devil because the Word of God also states, “When a man knows the right thing to do and does not do it, he sins.”

CATHOLIC CONVERTS

Christianity is not very popular in the mainstream press. Still less are organized churches like the Catholic Church, which is frequently criticized for it’s teachings such as, priestly ordination is reserved for men or that artificial birth control is a grave moral wrong. Such hostility is not new, in fact it has existed pretty much since the birth of the Church. The questions arise: Why does Supreme Court Justice Clarence Thomas return home to Rome? Why does Norma “Jane Roe” McCorvey of the famous “Roe vs Wade” case that legalized abortion and President George Bush’s son Jeb Bush of Florida convert to Catholicism? The answer to these questions is the Roman Catholic Church is and always has been the only clear and authentic voice of Christianity!

While the Evangelical Right gets most of the press. The people on the road to Rome is growing. In the past two decades the Catholic Church in America has grown 23%, the Church in Africa has doubled to over 100 million, and membership in the Catholic faith has reached the 1 billion mark worldwide! The vast majority of converts to Catholicism say they are attracted to the Church for the following reasons; an unwavering moral code, it is the only link with God and His teachings, and the Catholic Church has all of the right enemies. Converts see the Roman Catholic Church as the uncompromising voice against such evils as; abortion, racism, moral relativism, fornication, radical feminism, the assisted suicide movement, contraception, the homosexual agenda, pornography, materialism, and secularism. The Catholic Church does not bow to opinion polls or social trends. It is a shining light of truth in a dark and fallen world.

Many converts say that they always have felt drawn to Catholicism’s emphasis on reason, order, structure, and beauty. The Catholic faith also answers the big questions such as: Why is the world so messed up? Why am I here? What happens after death? Why do bad things happen to good people? When asked why they did not join a Protestant sect the often heard reply is Protestantism is incomplete. The Protestant right offers faith without intellect while the left offers intellect without faith.

The secular world finds convert’s orthodox reasons for joining the Catholic Church bewildering, but the fact remains people are hungry for the truth and are willing to make the right choice and join the One True Church in order to find it!

EVEN THE DEMONS BELIEVE

“For we must all appear before the judgment seat of Christ, that each one may receive what is due him for the things done while in the body, whether good or bad.”(2 Cor: 5 -10)

Today it seems more than ever that Catholics are beleaguered by Protestants that promulgate the error that good works are worthless and that faith alone in Jesus Christ is sufficient for ones salvation. How many times have unsuspecting Catholics heard, “For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life.”(Jn 3:16) After quoting this verse, presumptuous Protestants will exclaim, see the Catholic Church is wrong, works are not important! What most Catholics don’t know is that the ensuing verses in this chapter that stress the significance of works are conveniently never mentioned. “ . . . and men loved darkness rather than light, because their deeds were evil. For every one who does evil hates the light, and does not come to the light, lest his deeds should be exposed. But he who does what is true comes to the light, that it may be clearly seen that his deeds have been wrought in God.” (Jn 3:19—21) These verses are obviously ignored because they substantiate the importance of works and also reveals that the faith alone premise is unbiblical.

Once the (Jn 3:16) deception has been exposed, one or both of the atomic bombs of the so called faith alone passages will be dropped. “For if Abraham was justified by works, he has something to boast about, but not before God. For what does the scripture say? ‘Abraham believed God, and it was reckoned to him as righteousness.’ Now to one who works, his wages are not reckoned as a gift but as his due. And to one who does not work but trusts him who justifies the ungodly, his faith is reckoned as righteousness.” (Rom 4: 2–5) and “For by grace you have been saved through faith; and this is not your own doing, it is the gift of God not because of works, lest any man should boast.” (Eph 2:8–9) These Bible texts at first glance seem to explode the Catholic position, but these bombshells can be easily defused. First, Protestants again deliberately fail to quote passages in these chapters that proclaim the significance of good works such as (Eph 2:10),”For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them.” Second, Protestants make the tragic error of confusing the ceremonial works of the Mosaic law that were eradicated by Christ with works of love and charity. If these verses are read in their proper context one will discover that in both cases the subject being addressed is whether circumcision is a requirement for a follower of Christ and not if virtues acts are null and void. As one can imagine, circumcision would be a major stumbling block for an adult male to convert. The sole purpose of theses two verses is to reassure the ungodly, Gentiles that have not been circumcised, that they can belong to Christ and His Church along with their Jewish brothers through faith apart from the Mosaic law. The New Testament makes it abundantly clear that the ceremonial works of the Jews are now impotent and no one said it better than St. Paul who happen to write Romans and Ephesians, “If any other man thinks he has reason for confidence in the flesh, I have more: circumcised on the eighth day, of the people of Israel, of the tribe of Benjamin, a Hebrew born of Hebrew parents; as to the law a Pharisee, as to zeal a persecutor of the church, as to righteousness under the law blameless. . . . Indeed I count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For his sake I have accepted the loss of all things, and I count them as rubbish, in order that I may gain Christ and be found in him, not having a righteousness of my own, based on law,”( Phil 3:4–9)

The last weapon in any Protestant’s arsenal is the question, why do you Catholics do good works, didn’t Christ pay the price for our sins on the cross once and for all? This query is designed to confuse and place one on the defensive. Catholics should first respond by saying, I am redeemed by the Blood of Christ, I trust in Him alone for my eternal salvation, and as (Phil 2:12 ) teaches, I am working out my salvation in fear and trembling. Next, it must be stressed that Catholics participate in Christ’s once and for all sacrifice on Calvary every time they attend Mass because they are one in the same. Jesus made this perfectly clear at the Last Supper, “Now as they were eating, Jesus took bread, and blessed, and broke it, and gave it to the disciples and said, ‘Take, eat; this is my body.’ And he took a cup, and when he had given thanks he gave it to them, saying, “Drink of it, all of you; for this is my blood of the covenant, which is poured out for thanks he gave it to them, saying, “Drink of it, all of you; for this is my blood of the covenant, which is poured out for 28) and St. Paul confirmed this by saying, “The cup of blessing which we bless, is it not a participation in the blood of Christ? The bread which we break, is it not a participation in the body of Christ? (1 Cor 10:16) Lastly, Catholics must state that the Church has always proclaimed that Christ paid the price for our sins by His crucifixion, and correctly teaches that through the grace of God, Catholics are given the strength to pick up their cross and follow Jesus and in doing so complete what is lacking in His afflictions to aid the Church militant on earth and those suffering in purgatory. “Now I rejoice in my sufferings for your sake, and in my flesh I complete what is lacking in Christ’s afflictions for the sake of his body, that is, the church” (Col 1:24)

It is essential that Protestants be made aware that no where in the Bible can one find the phrase, “one is saved by faith alone.” As a matter of fact, the only place in the Bible where the phrase, “faith alone” appears is in the Book of James. “You believe that God is one; you do well. Even the demons believe and shudder. Do you want to be shown, you shallow man, that faith apart from works is barren? Was not Abraham our father justified by works, when he offered his son Isaac upon the altar? You see that faith was active along with his works, and faith was completed by works, and the scripture was fulfilled which says, “Abraham believed God, and it was reckoned to him as righteousness”; and he was called the friend of God. You see that a man is justified by works and not by faith alone.” (Jm 2 :19—24) Most of today’s adherents to Protestantism have no idea that, Martin Luther, heretic and architect of the Reformation, belittled the Book of James calling it, “the epistle of straw.” Luther even went so far as to take this epistle out of the original Lutheran Bible because he knew it torpedoed his concocted theory of salvation. The Roman Catholic Church has always taught that salvation is a gift from God, and that justification and sanctification are accomplished by faith in Jesus Christ along with works of love and charity. The Church has never said that works are of ones” own merit. Even the most official teaching of the Catholic faith, the Council of Trent, reiterates this teaching, “If any one saith, that man may be justified before God by his own works, whether done through the teaching of human nature, or that of the law, without the grace of God through Jesus Christ; let him be anathema.” (The Sixth Session Canon I )

The evidence for necessity of good works is overwhelming. Jesus tells us in (Matt 25:31–46), that those who feed the hungry, give water to the thirsty, clothe the naked, visit the sick and those in prison will go to heaven, and those who do not perform these acts of love will not like where they end up. In (Matt 19:16–17), Jesus is asked the question, “Teacher, what good must I do to gain eternal life?” He answered, “If you wish to enter into life, keep the commandments.” So the next time a Catholic is confronted by an erroneous statement such as, good works are worthless and that faith alone in Jesus Christ is sufficient for salvation. They need only reply, that every time a Catholic is born again through baptism, humbly asks for absolution for their sins in the sacrament of confession, does penitence, receives the real body, blood, soul, and divinity of Jesus Christ in the Most Holy Eucharist, prays a rosary, or just says a simple prayer from the heart they are following Christ’s mandate, “You shall love the Lord, your God, with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your mind. This is the greatest and the first commandment.” (Matt 22: 37–38); and when a Catholic feeds the hungry, gives alms to the poor, takes care of the sick, visits those in prison, buries the dead, instructs the ignorant, admonishes the sinner, comforts the sorrowful, prays for the living and the dead, or just lends a helping hand to their fellow man they are following the second greatest commandment. “You shall love your neighbor as yourself.” (Matt 22:39) “the Son of man is to come with his angels in the glory of his Father, and then he will repay every man for what he has done. “(Matt 16: 27)

NOBODY IS LAUGHING

In 1968, Pope Paul VI in his encyclical Humane Vitae clearly proclaimed the teaching of the Church that the two purposes for marital union are to procreate and establish a loving and caring relationship between husband and wife. He also warned that if these two purposes were ever separated by a contraceptive act disorder would occur in the sacred union of matrimony and society as a whole. Pope Paul’s warnings about the evils of contraception went ignored. The secular media along with dissidents within the Church ridiculed and laughed at him and said things such as, “You poor foolish old man, you just don’t get it. Artificial birth control is the magic pill that will change our society for the better. Couples won’t have to worry about unwanted pregnancies. Contraception will diminish marital stress and make for happier and stronger families.”

The Pope guided by the Holy Spirit and two thousand years of Church teaching stood firm in his conviction and made the predictions that if contraception became embraced by the masses the following would happen. There would be more infidelity in marriages. Women would be treated more and more like mere objects of pleasure by men. Morals would be lowered in society as a whole, and world powers would force birth control upon thepoor nations of the world. Paul VI”s predictions all came true, and the result has been a world plagued with divorce, fornication, adultery, dysfunctional families, abortion, pornography, and sexual deviancy. Nobody is laughing anymore except Satan and his minions.

NOT ENOUGH BABIES ARE BEING BORN!

The New York Times and ABC”s Nightline, two of the United States” leading mouthpieces for the “Culture of Death,” have finally acknowledged what most demographers have been saying for more than a decade: The countries of Europe and North America that have embraced contraception as a way of life are demographically dead. In a perverse way, the Times and ABC stories on the vanishing West could be their way of paying tribute to Pope Paul VI”s prophetic encyclical Humanae Vitae, issued 30 years ago this summer.It warned that contraception would lead to a “weakening of the discipline of habits” such as having babies.

In order to understand this problem, one must go back two centuries, when Thomas Robert Malthus, an English economist, published the first edition of a pamphlet that became known as An Essay on Population. It contained the gloomy prediction that Britain’s population explosion would inevitably outstrip its food supply and the country would collapse into anarchy and disease.

The pamphlet became an immense best-seller and remains a gospel for environmentalists to this day. It contains some good philosophical sense; yet on the subject of population it was plain wrong. The food supply grew faster than population through-out the next two centuries, both nationally and globally. The only problem the world has with food is its distribution.

Malthus’s biggest error of all—population did not continue to expand indefinitely. Putting the final nail in the coffin of Malthusian theory, the United Nations convened a meeting in New York last week to discuss what it called a “new demographic crisis” and a “new population problem,” one that already affects 51 countries and will soon spread to another 37—countries containing two -thirds of the world population. The problem is falling numbers of people. Forget the population explosion; it is the population implosion that we must start to worry about.

In Italy the fertility rate is the lowest in the world and has now fallen to 1.1 children per woman. It is not much higher in Spain, Germany, Sweden, France, or Britain. Even in countries like Canada and America the fertility rate is now below the threshold of 2.1 children per woman necessary to keep the population stable. This means that, without immigration, the population of those countries will fall. The number of countries with such, below-replacement fertility, is growing all the time. The fear of Third World nations population out pacing the West and causing political unrest has many in the West afraid. So Third World nations are now being held hostage by economic means to reduce their populations. In order for poor nations to get the desperate loans they need from the World Bank, First World Nations tell these countries they must implement forced sterilization programs, such as in the cases of Mexico and Peru, increase promotion of contraception, and provide abortion on demand. The Third World nations birth rates are starting to fall under the economic pressure from the West.

Because of the transition, demographers have steadily reduced their estimates of world population growth since the 1960s. First they talked, like Malthus, about an indefinite exponential rise. Then they realized that the growth rate was slowing all the time, so they talked about world population leveling off at 15 billion or so in the middle of the next century. But as the world grew richer, the decline of population sharpened. Now it is widely agreed that population will never reach even 10 billion. The UN itself estimates that the top of the graph will be reached at 9.4 billion some 50 years from now. Think about that for a moment: population is not about to double again. It is already at 5–7 billion and has doubled nearly three times since Malthus’s time. Yet our granaries are bulging, wheat prices are at their lowest levels ever, large tracts of agricultural land are being used for the luxury of meat production or is set aside altogether for nature. The Third World is consuming more calories per person than ever before. Disease, malnutrition, and famine are retreating almost everywhere.

The reason population continues to decline is because we are so selfish and greedy. Prosperity has strangled us! We live in the richest country in the world and everyone is worried if they can afford to take their next vacation or buy a new car. The ethic of sacrifice for a family, one of the basic ideas of human societies has become a historical notion. It is astonishing! Did your parents sit down with a spread sheet and figure out if they could afford to have two or four children? No, of course not. Did this ever happen before anywhere? No, of course not.

BIRTH RATES

A birth rate of 2.1 rate is needed for replacement. Below 2.1 means that, without immigration, the population of those countries will decline! The birth rate for the United States would be far below 2.0 if it was not for the immigration and high birth rate of Hispanics.

Italy -1.1

Spain—1.2

Greece—1.3

Austria—1.4

Germany—1.5

Denmark—1.6

France—1.7

Britain—1.7

Ireland1.8

Australia—1.8

Canada1.8

USA1.9

Brazil—2.5

Mexico—2.7

Philippines—3.6

Egypt3.8

Sudan—5.4

Iran—5.9

Oman—6.0 Nigeria6.3 Yemen7.0 Ethiopia—7.1

QUESTIONS PROTESTANTS JUST HATE ABOUT THE BIBLE!

1) If the “Bible Alone” is the sole guideline of the Christian faith, how were people saved in the past if they didn’t have a Bible to guide them? It was over 300 years after Christ’s resurrection forthe Bible to be complied in its” present form and 1500 years for the Bible to be mass printed.

2) Why does the Bible state the Church is built upon Peter and not the Bible? “And I tell you, you are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church, and the powers of death shall not prevail against it.” (Matt 16:18)

3) Christ told the apostles to go forth and preach. Only five of the twelve apostles wrote books of the Bible. So why didn’t Christ tell them to go forth and write His gospel so all future generations could read it? That is what Mohammed did. 4) How come the Bible says the Church is the pillar and foundation of truth and not the Bible? “But if I am delayed, you may know how one ought to behave in the household of God, which is the church of the living God, the pillar and foundation of the truth.” (1 Tim 3: 15)

5) Why do Protestants follow only the Bible and ignore Holy tradition when the Bible clearly states that tradition is of great importance? “Therefore, brothers, stand firm and hold fast to the traditions that you were taught, either by an oral statement or by a letter of ours.” (2 Thess. 2:15)

6) How do you know for certain which books of the Bible are divinely inspired and which translation is correct without an infallible authority?

7) If each individual reader is guided by the Holy Spirit to interpret the Bible correctly, why are there over 25,000 different Protestant denominations disagreeing with each other about the Bible’s meaning?

8) Why do Protestants claim that they are justified by faith alone when the Bible clearly says we are justified by faith and works? “You see that a man is justified by works and not by faith alone” (James 2 : 24)

9) Today’s Protestant Bibles are based on the King James version. King James was a political leader not an ecclesiastical authority. What authority did he have to produce a Bible? Absolutely none! So the question arises, suppose the President of the United States decided to produce a Bible. Would you trust your salvation to the George Bush version of the Bible? 10) Does your Bible contain all the books of the Old Testament that Christ read from or is it like the Protestant Bible that is missing seven books? (Tibet, Judith, Wisdom, Sirach, Baruch, 1 & 2 Maccabees)

THE GOLDEN CALF

The whole world has bought the fundamentally pagan idea that each person makes up his own code of morality and then in the next world is judged upon how well he has observed his own code. For the world, it is as if Christ had never come at all. The revelation made by Christ, unknown even to the Jews before the time of Christ, that the Ten Commandments were not merely a Jewish moral code, but were already written on the hearts of every man on earth, has not just been spurned. It has been ignored!

The person who supports his family by selling pornography tells himself that he will be able to explain and defend his conduct before God. The man and woman living together without the benefit marriage tell themselves that fornication is not sinful. So, too, with those unrepentant in abortion, divorce and remarriage, contraception, sodomy, drug taking, theft, and perjury. Even the person who has built up within himself a total aversion to the Catholic faith and all hearing and reading of the Scriptures, tells himself that he, too, will be able to explain all this satisfactorily and be accepted into heaven.

What is all this? It is the idea that God is a bit of a dope, a bit of a sap, and in fact, very much a wimp. These people, whose name is Legion, are not just fallen Christians, Not just lost sheep at all. Rather, they are really atheists, unbelievers not just in the Church, but in the very notion itself of a meaningful God.

Such people will often snicker at the Biblical account of the worship of the golden calf (Exodus 32). How could the Israelites, they ask themselves, have run off into such idiocy? How could so many have done so? This was the whole people, not just a lunatic fringe. How could they all together have developed such a pathetic image of God and acted upon it?

The fact is that the gods that the modern world worships are not one whit less inane than was the golden calf. The people of Israel wanted desperately to have a god they could feel superior to. So, too, with the modern world which has sunk largely into paganism. The worship of Christ and obedience to His moral precepts has been cast aside. The world now slavishly venerates the unholy trinity of power, greed, and lust.

People must understand that the large number of Hebrews that worshiped the golden calf in Exodus did not make it right, and like wise the multitude today that profess belief in equally foolish and pathetic gods does not make it any more acceptable to God. The warning must be proclaimed from the housetops that those who follow false notions about God, worship the counterfeit gods of this world, ignore the truth of the Catholic faith, or disregard the self evident laws of holiness written upon their hearts will not like where they end up.

THE HELL YOU SAY!

It has become a formality that everyone is automatically whisked to heaven. Purgatory is ignored and the chance that a departed soul might be in hell is no longer part of the equation. Only monsters such as, Hitler and Stalin could possibly be suffering with the fallen angels. Thanks to heretical teachers many people have been convinced that Christ is tolerant of sin, non judgmental, and pluralistic in His view of salvation. People actually believe that Jesus would never allow anyone to be cast down into everlasting torment because He is a God of love. This idea is contrary to the Bible and Church teaching. It is true that Christ loves all of mankind even those in the pit of unquenchable fire. It is also true that He desires all to be saved and to embrace the truth, but the reality is some people because of their pride decide to reject Him and prefer the darkness of sin thus casting themselves into the bowels of hell. “And this is the verdict, that the light came into the world, but people preferred darknessto light, because their works were evil.” (Jn 3 :19)

If people would just open up their Bibles and read, they would discover that the Jesus of the Gospels bears no resemblance to the fabrication created by the false prophets of our day. Christ condemned the idea that there are many paths to God. Jesus said, “I am the way, and the truth, and the life; no one comes to the Father, but by me.” (John 14:6) He also forewarns us that there will not be universal salvation of mankind. “The Son of Man will send his angels, and they will collect out of his kingdom all who cause others to sin and all evildoers. They will throw them into the fiery furnace, where there will be wailing and grinding of teeth.” (Matt 13: 41–42) Christ’s teachings are not ambiguous. The rejection of the free gift of salvation offered by Christ through sin or unbelief carries with it a clear a defined outcome.

One needs to understand the magnitude of importance Jesus placed on avoiding damnation. If you were to take a Bible where the words of Christ are highlighted in red, and go through it, one would discover that Jesus spent one third of His ministry on this unpleasant subject. The Catholic Church understanding the significance of this fact has always taught the reality of hell. As a matter of fact, the new Catechism of the Catholic Church states: “The teaching of the Church affirms the existence of hell and its eternity. Immediately after death the souls of those who die in a state of mortal sin descend into hell, where they suffer the punishments of hell, “eternal fire.” The chief punishment of hell is eternal separation from God, in whom alone man can possess the life and happiness for which he was created and for which he longs” (CCC 1035). Priests, deacons, and religious instructors that are faithful to Christ and His Church unashamedly preach about the doctrine of hell because they love their fellow man as themselves and want everyone to live in God’s grace forever. On the other hand, those who remain silent on this subject or deny its existence have instilled a false sense of security and self confidence concerning salvation. This is quite evident in Catholics that have foolishly subscribed to the Protestant concoction that a person can not sin once they believe in Jesus and even if they would sin, no punishment will be due them because they are already saved. The Bible unquestionably denies this counterfeit theology. “I am not aware of anything against myself, but I am not thereby acquitted. It is the Lord who judges me.”(1 Cor 4 : 4)

If o ne wants to accept Christ’s gift of deliverance and avoid eternal damnation simply enter into the sole ark of salvation, the Holy Roman Catholic Church, and live a faithful life in accordance to it’s teachings. “And I tell you, you are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church, and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it.” (Matt 16:18) Christ will bring the faithful to everlasting life through His instruments of justification and sanctification, the seven sacraments. In baptism, we are born again, cleansed from all sin, and permanently claimed as a child of God. The sacrament of confession is where Christ lovingly waits to forgive the repentant sinner. Confirmation completes the baptismal promises, places an indelible mark upon the soul, and gives one the strength to endure the struggles of this life. Holy Orders is God’s unique channel of dispensing His sacraments to the faithful. Marriage builds up the kingdom of God through love and procreation. The Holy Eucharist is the source and the pinnacleof the Christian life. “He who eats my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life, and I will raise him up at the last day.” (Jn 6:54) The Anointing of the Sick forgives sin, heals the body if it is God’s will, and strengthens the soul for the journey home.

Those who die in perfect communion with Christ through the sanctifying grace of His sacraments will be given the bliss of seeing God in the face, the beatific vision. People that pass on in a state of grace, but still have temporal punishment to atone for will enter heaven only after they have been cleansed in the fires of purgatory. The people who sincerely searched for God and tried to live a life in accordance to His law written upon their hearts but through no fault of their own never heard the Gospel or had the opportunity to formally enter the Church may be lead into communion with the Mystical Body of Christ, the Roman Catholic Church, by the miraculous intervention of God. “He that has my commandments and observes them is the one who loves me. And whoever loves me will be loved by my Father, and I will love him and will manifest myself to him.”(Jn14:21) All Catholics must never forget that it would be a miracle for any invincible ignorant soul to be saved, because it is impossible to keep the wholemoral law without Christ’s grace bestowed through His sacraments. “For all have sinned, and do need the glory of God.” (Roman 3:23) Therefore the conversion of the world to Jesus and His Church is paramount so all will have a true hope of salvation. Lastly, those who live an unrepentant life of sin and debauchery and the prideful who choose by their own freewill to reject either Christ or His Mystical Body and sole ark of salvation, the Catholic Church, will not like where they end up. “If anyone remains not in me, he shall be cast forth as a branch, and shall wither, and they shall gather him up, and cast him into the fire, and burned.” (Jn 15: 6)

If a person chooses not to believe in hell, it does not nullify its existence. The denial of this doctrine only calls God a liar and says that the crucifixion was a useless and vain sacrifice. So the next time a faithful Catholic is confronted by a person that makes an absurd statement such as, there is no hell or that everyone goes to heaven because God would never allow anyone to suffer eternal damnation. Just read them Christ’s own words and watch them squirm. “Enter by the narrow gate; for the gate is wide and the way is easy, that leads to destruction, and those who enter by it are many. For the gate is narrowand the way is hard, that leads to life, and those who find it are few.” (Matt 7:13 -14)

“Or do you not know that the unrighteous shall not inherit the kingdom of God? Do not be deceived; neither fornicators, nor idolaters, nor adulterers, nor effeminate, nor homosexuals, nor thieves, nor the covetous, nor drunkards, nor revilers, nor swindlers, shall inherit the kingdom of God.” (1 Cor. 6:9–10)

WHAT IS IN A NAME?

Today one will hear certain labels such as, liberal, middle of the road, or conservative bantered around in the media or in polite company to describe a particular Catholics theological position. These terms have not only hindered the faith but caused confusion within the Church allowing people with heretical ideas to advance their agenda under the cover of a fabricated title.

The Bible warns us of the self-proclaimed liberals who will jettison orthodox doctrine in lieu of their own passions. “For the time will come when they will not endure sound doctrine, but according to their own desires, because they have itching ears, they will heap up for themselves teachers; and they will turn their ears away from the truth, and be turned itching ears, they will heap up for themselves teachers; and they will turn their ears away from the truth, and be turned 5) We are also told by God’s word that those who take the apparently safe route of sitting upon the fence will be rejected. “I know your works; I know that you are neither cold nor hot. I wish you were either cold or hot. So, because you are lukewarm, neither hot nor cold, I will vomit you from my mouth.” (Rev 3:15–16) Finally, the term conservative has no meaning when it comes to Catholicism. It is quite simple, one is either faithful or not. Christ tells us that when He comes in his glory he will separate the sheep from the goats and the later will be sent to ever lasting damnation. The question you have to ask yourself is which group are you going to be in?

CATHOLICS IN NAME ONLY

1) Faithful Catholics will endure losing everything even their life rather than renounce the one true faith.

- Catholics in name only conceal their faith in fear of being ridiculed.

2) Faithful Catholics humbly make the sign of the cross before a meal no matter the occasion.

- Catholics in name only never thank God for a meal in public because they are ashamed.

3) Faithful Catholics fast for the love of Christ.

- Catholics in name only complain about fasting on Ash Wednesday, Good Friday, and even for just one hour before receiving Christ in Holy Communion.

4) Faithful Catholics cheerfully support the Church financially.

- Catholics in name only begrudge surrendering even one penny.

5) Faithful Catholics truly love their neighbours and help them at any cost.

- Catholics in name only scorn their fellow man and live only for themselves.

6) Faithful Catholics pray constantly.

- Catholics in name only resent every moment not spent satisfying their own desires.

7) Faithful Catholics think of Sunday Mass as a gift from God.

- Catholics in name only see Sunday Mass as a burden.

8) Faithful Catholics know they are sinners and need frequent reconciliation with God through the sacrament of confession.

- Catholics in name only are too proud to admit they sin.

9) Faithful Catholics follow Church teaching with humility and love.

- Catholics in name only think the Church is a cafeteria in which one may pick and choose what they will follow. 10) Faithful Catholics would never commit the sacrilege of unworthily receiving the Eucharist.

- Catholics in name only no longer believe that the Eucharist is the real body, blood, soul, and divinity of Jesus Christ. 11) Faithful Catholics pray for and forgive their enemies.

- Catholics in name only are consumed with bitterness.

12) Faithful Catholics humbly kneel during the consecration and genuflect before the tabernacle.

- Catholics in name only have knees too stiff with pride.

13) Faithful Catholics are always open to new life and will defend and respect it from conception until a natural death.

- Catholics in name only embrace contraception, abortion, sterilization, or euthanasia.

ADAM AND EVE

If a Catholic believes there was not an original set of parents (Adam and Eve) but rather a pool of early human couples (the position known as polygenism) then that Catholic has not only denied Church teaching but automatically rejects the infallible dogmas of Original Sin, Baptism, and the Immaculate Conception of Mary. Original sin was passed onto all humanity because of Adam and Eve’s fall from grace. “By one man sin entered into this world, and by sin, death, and so death passed upon all men in whom all have sinned.” (Rom 5:12). The sacrament of baptism is when one is born again and cleansed from original, mortal, and venial sin. The dogma of Immaculate Conception is the belief that from very first moment of Mary’s existence she was saved by the merits of Jesus Christ from the stain of original sin because God transcends time and space and can do anything. This is why, when the Blessed Virgin was with child visting her cousin Elizabeth, she exclaimed, “My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my Saviour “ (Lk 1:46–47) Catholics that think it is acceptable to hold the polygenism position are in for rude awaking if they read Pope Pius ‘s XII Encyclical Humani Generis which is part of the Ordinary Magisterium and carries the weight of Church teaching. “When, however, there is question of another conjectural opinion, namely polygenism, the children of the Church by no means enjoy such liberty. For the faithful cannot embrace that opinion which maintains either that after Adam there existed on this earth true men who did not take their origin through natural generation from him as from the first parents of all, or that Adam represents a certain number of first parents. Now, it is in no way apparent how such an opinion can be reconciled that which the sources of revealed truth and the documents of the teaching authority of the Church proposed with regard to original sin which proceeds from a sin actually committed by an individual Adam in which through generation is passed onto all and is in everyone as his own” (Humani Generis 37). Even the new Catechism states that Genesis express the truth of creation and its origin. “Among all the Scriptural texts about creation, the first three chapters of Genesis occupy a unique place. . . . The inspired authors have placed them at the beginning of Scripture to express in their solemn language the truths of creation—its origin and its end in God, its order and goodness, the vocation of man, and finally the drama of sin and the hope of salvation. Read in the light of Christ, within the unity of Sacred Scripture and in the living Tradition of the Church, these texts remain the principal source for catechesis on the mysteries of the “beginning”: creation, fall, and promise of salvation.” [289]

One can only conclude that the Catholic Church continues and will always teach that the human race is descended from Adam and Eve and any theory of origins that conflicts with these authoritative teachings must be false and hence opposed to Christianity.

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Of The Dolours of Mary

ST. ALPHONSUS LIGUORI

INDEX

Mary was the Queen of Martyrs, for her martyrdom was longer and greater than that of all the Martyrs. Who can ever have a heart so hard that it will not melt on hearing the most lamentable event which once occurred in the world? There was a noble and holy Mother Who had an only Son. This Son was the most amiable that can be imagined-innocent, virtuous, beautiful, Who loved His Mother most tenderly; so much so that He had never caused her the least displeasure, but had ever shown her all respect, obedience, and affection: hence this Mother had placed all her affections on earth in this Son. Hear, then, what happened. This Son, through envy, was falsely accused by His enemies; and though the judge knew, and himself confessed, that He was innocent, yet, that he might not offend His enemies, he condemned Him to the ignominious death that they had demanded. This poor Mother had to suffer the grief of seeing that amiable and beloved Son unjustly snatched from her in the flower of His age by a barbarous death; for, by dint of torments and drained of all His blood, He was made to die on an infamous gibbet in a public place of execution, and this before her own eyes.

Devout souls, what say you? Is not this event, and is not this unhappy Mother worthy of compassion. You already understand of whom I speak. This Son, so cruelly executed, was our loving Redeemer Jesus; and this Mother was the Blessed Virgin Mary; Who, for the love she bore us, was willing to see Him sacrificed to Divine Justice by the barbarity of men. This great torment, then, which Mary endured for us-a torment which was more than a thousand deaths deserves both our compassion and our gratitude. If we can make no other return for so much love, at least let us give a few moments this day to consider the greatness of the sufferings by which Mary became the Queen of martyrs; for the sufferings of her great martyrdom exceeded those of all the martyrs; being, in the first place, the longest in point of duration; and, in the second place, the greatest in point of intensity.

First point. As Jesus is called the King of sorrows and the King of martyrs, because He suffered during, His life more than all other martyrs; so also is Mary with reason called the Queen of martyrs, having merited this title by suffering the most cruel martyrdom possible after that of her Son. Hence, with reason, was she called by Richard of Saint Lawrence, “the Martyr of martyrs”; and of her can the words of Isaias with all truth be said, “He will crown thee with a crown of tribulation;” that is to say, that that suffering itself, which exceeded the suffering of all the other martyrs united, was the crown by which she was shown to be the Queen of martyrs. That Mary was a true martyr cannot be doubted, as Denis the Carthusian, Pelbart, Catharinus, and others prove; for it is an undoubted opinion that suffering sufficient to cause death is martyrdom, even though death does not ensue from it. Saint John the Evangelist is revered as a martyr, though he did not die in the caldron of boiling oil, but he came out more vigorous than he went in. Saint Thomas says, “that to have the glory of martyrdom, it is sufficient to exercise obedience in its highest degree, that is to say, to be obedient unto death.” “Mary was a martyr,” says Saint Bernard, “not by the sword of the executioner, but by bitter sorrow of heart.” If her body was not wounded by the hand of the executioner, her blessed heart was transfixed by a sword of grief at the passion of her Son; grief which was sufficient to have caused her death, not once, but a thousand times. From this we shall see that Mary was not only a real martyr, but that her martyrdom surpassed all others; for it was longer than that of all others, and her whole life may be said to have been a prolonged death.

“The passion of Jesus,” as Saint Bernard says, “commenced with His birth.” So also did Mary, in all things like unto her Son, endure her martyrdom throughout her life. Amongst other significations of the name of Mary, as Blessed Albert the Great asserts, is that of “a bitter sea.”9 Hence to her is applicable the text of Jeremias : “great as the sea is thy destruction.” For as the sea is all bitter and salt, so also was the life of Mary always full of bitterness at the sight of the passion of the Redeemer, which was ever present to her mind. “There can be no doubt, that, enlightened by the Holy Ghost in a far higher degree than all the prophets, she, far better than they, understood the predictions recorded by them in the sacred Scriptures concerning the Messias.” This is precisely what the angel revealed to St. Bridget; and he also added, “that the Blessed Virgin, even before she became His Mother, knowing how much the * From “The Glories of Mary,” Discourse IX, by St. Alphonsus Liguori

Incarnate Word was to suffer for the salvation of men, and compassionating this innocent Saviour, who was to be so cruelly put todeath for crimes not His own, even then began her great martyrdom.”

Her grief was immeasurably increased when she became the Mother of this Saviour; so that at the sad sight of the many torments which were to be endured by her poor Son, she indeed suffered a long martyrdom, a martyrdom which lasted her whole life. This was signified with great exactitude to Saint Bridget in a vision which she had in Rome, in the church of Saint Mary Major, where the Blessed Virgin with Saint Simeon, and an angel bearing a very long sword, reddened with blood, appeared to her, denoting thereby the long, and bitter grief which transpierced the heart of Mary during her whole life. When the above named Rupert supposes Mary thus speaking: “Redeemed souls, and my beloved children, do not pity me only for the hour in which I beheld my dear Jesus expiring before my eyes; for the sword of sorrow predicted by Simeon pierced my soul during the whole of my life: when I was giving suck to my Son, when I was warming Him in my arms, I already foresaw the bitter death that awaited Him. Consider, then, what long and bitter sorrows I must have endured.”

Wherefore Mary might well say, in the words of David, “My life is wasted with grief, and my years in sighs.” “My sorrow is continually before me.” “My whole life was spent in sorrow and in tears; for my sorrow, which was compassion for my beloved Son, never departed from before my eyes, as I always foresaw the sufferings and death which He was one day to endure.” The Divine Mother herself revealed to Saint Bridget, that “even after the death and ascension of her Son, whether she ate, or worked, the remembrance of His passion was ever deeply impressed on her mind, and fresh in her tender heart.” Hence Tauler says, “that the most Blessed Virgin spent her whole life in continual sorrow;” for her heart was always occupied with sadness and with suffering.

Therefore time, which usually mitigates the sorrows of the afflicted, did not relieve Mary; nay, even it increased her sorrow; for, as Jesus, on the one hand, advanced in age, and always appeared more and more beautiful and amiable; so also, on the other hand, the time of His death always drew nearer, and grief always increased in the heart of Mary, at the thought of having to lose Him on earth. So that, in the words addressed by the angel to Saint Bridget: “As the rose grows up amongst thorns, so the Mother of God advanced in years in the midst of sufferings; and as the thorns increase with the growth of the rose, so also did the thorns of her sorrows increase in Mary, the chosen rose of the Lord, as she advanced in age; and so much the more deeply did they pierce her heart. Having now considered the tenth of this sorrow in point of duration, let us pass to the second point-its greatness in point of intensity.

Second point. Ah, Mary was not only Queen of martyrs because her martyrdom was longer than that of all others, but also because it was the greatest of all martyrdoms. Who, however, can measure its greatness? Jeremias seems unable to find any one with whom be can compare this Mother of Sorrows, when he considers her great sufferings at the death of her Son. “To what shall I compare thee or to what shall I liken thee, O daughter of Jerusalem “ . . . for great as the sea is thy destruction: who shall healthee?” Wherefore Cardinal Hugo, in a commentary on these words, says, “O Blessed Virgin, as the sea in bitterness exceeds all other bitterness, so does thy grief exceed all other grief. Hence Saint Anselm asserts, that “had not God by a special miracle preserved the life of Mary in each moment of her life, her grief was such that it would have caused her death. Saint Bernardine of Siena goes so far as to say, “that the grief of Mary was so great that, were it divided amongst all men, it would suffice to cause their immediate death.

But let us consider the reasons for which Mary’s martyrdom was greater than that of all martyrs. In the first place, we must remember that the martyrs endured their torments, which were the effect of fire and other material agencies, in their bodies; Mary suffered hers in her soul, as Saint Simeon foretold: “And my own soul a sword shall pierce.” As if the holy old man had said: “O most sacred Virgin, the bodies of other martyrs will be torn with iron, but thou wilt be transfixed, and martyred in thy soul by the Passion of thine own Son.” Now, as the soul is more noble than the body, so much greater were Mary’s sufferings than those of all the martyrs, as Jesus Christ Himself said to Saint Catherine of Siena: “Between the sufferings of the soul and those of the body there is no comparisons.” Whence the holy Abbot Arnold of Chartres says, “that whoever had been present on Mount Calvary, to witness the great sacrifice of the Immaculate Lamb, would there have beheld two great altars, the one in the body of Jesus, the other in the heart of Mary; for, on that mount, at the same time that the Son sacrificed His body by death, Mary sacrificed her soul by compassion.”

Moreover, says Saint Antoninus, “while other martyrs suffered by sacrificing their own lives, the Blessed Virgin suffered by sacrificing her Son’s life, a life that she loved far more than her own; so that she not only suffered in her soul all that her Son endured in His body, but moreover the sight of her Son’s torments brought more grief to her heart than if she had endured them all in her own person. No one can doubt that Mary suffered in her heart all the outrages which she saw inflicted on her beloved Jesus. Any one can understand that the sufferings of children are also those of their mothers who witness them. Saint Augustine, considering the anguish endured by the mother of the Maccabees in witnessing the tortures of her sons, says, “she, seeing their sufferings, suffered in each one; because she loved them all, she endured in her soul what they endured in their flesh.” Thus also did Mary suffer all those torments, scourges, thorns, nails, and the cross, which tortured the innocent flesh of Jesus, all entered at the same time into the heart of this Blessed Virgin, to complete her martyrdom. “He suffered in “the flesh, and she in her heart,” writes that Blessed Amadeus. “So much so,” says Saint Lawrence Justinian, “that the heart of Mary became, as it were, a mirror of the Passion of the Son, in which might be seen, faithfully reflected, the spitting, the blows and wounds, and all that Jesus suffered.” Saint Bonaventure also remarks that “those wounds-which were scattered over the body of our Lord were all united in the single heart of Mary.”

Thus was our Blessed Lady, through the compassion of her loving heart for her Son, scourged, crowned with thorns, insulted, and nailed to the cross. Whence the same Saint, considering Mary on Mount Calvary, present at the death of her Son, questions her in these words: “O Lady, tell me where didst thou stand? Was it only at the foot of the cross? Ah, much more than this, thou wast on the cross itself, crucified with thy Son.” Richard of Saint Lawrence, on the words of the Redeemer, spoken by Isaias the prophet, “I have trodden the wine-press alone, and of the Gentiles there is not a man with me,” says, “It is true, O Lord, that in the work of human redemption Thou didst suffer alone, and that there was not a man who sufficiently pitied Thee; but there was a woman with Thee, and she was Thine own Mother; she suffered in her heart all that Thou didst endure in Thy body.”

But all this is saying too little of Mary’s sorrows, since, as I have already observed, she suffered more in witnessing the sufferings of her beloved Jesus than if she had herself endured all the outrages and death of her Son. Erasmus, speaking of parents in general, says, that “they are more cruelly tormented by their children’s sufferings than by their own.” This is not always true, but in Mary it evidently was so; for it is certain that she loved her Son and His life beyond all comparison more than herself or a thousand lives of her own. Therefore Blessed Amadeus rightly affirms, that “the afflicted Mother, at the sorrowful sight of the torments of her beloved Jesus, suffered far more than she would have done had she herself endured His whole Passion.” The reason is evident, for, as Saint Bernard says, “the soul is more where it loves than where it lives.” Our Lord Himself had already said the same thing: “where our treasure is, there also is our heart.” If Mary, then, by love, lived more in her Son than in herself, she must have endured far greater torments in the sufferings and death of her Son than she would have done, had the most cruel death in the world been inflicted upon her.

Here we must reflect on another circumstance which rendered the martyrdom of Mary beyond all comparison greater than the torments of all the martyrs: it is that in the Passion of Jesus she suffered much, and she suffered, moreover, without the least alleviation. The martyrs suffered under the torments inflicted on them by tyrants; but the love of Jesus rendered their pains sweet and agreeable. A Saint Vincent was tortured on a rack, torn with pincers, burnt with red-hot iron plates; but, as Saint Augustine remarks, “it seemed as if it was one who suffered, and another who spoke.” The Saint addressed the tyrant with such energy and contempt for his torments, that it seemed as if one Vincent suffered and another spoke; so greatly did God strengthen him with the sweetness of His love in the midst of all she endured. A Saint Boniface had his body torn with iron hooks; sharp-pointed reeds were thrust between his nails and flesh; melted lead was poured into his mouth; and in the midst of all he could not tiresaying “I give Thee thanks, O Lord Jesus Christ.” A Saint Mark and a Saint Marcellinus were bound to a stake, their feet pierced with nails; and when the tyrant addressed them, saying, “Wretches, see to what a state you are reduced; save yourselves from these torments,” they answered: “Of what pains, of what torments dost thou speak? We never enjoyed so luxurious a banquet as in the present moment, in which we joyfully suffer for the love of Jesus Christ.” A Saint Lawrence suffered; but when roasting on the gridiron, “the interior flame of love,” says Saint Leo, “was more powerful in consoling his soul than the flame without in torturing his body.” Hence love tendered him so courageous that he mocked the tyrant, saying, “If thou desirest to feed on my flesh, a part is sufficiently roasted; turn it, and eat.” But how, in the midst of so many torments, in that prolonged death, could the Saint thus rejoice? “Ah!” replies Saint Augustine, “inebriated with the wine of Divine love, he felt neither torments nor death.”

So that the more the holy martyrs loved Jesus, the less did they feel their torments and death; and the sight alone of the sufferings of a crucified God was sufficient to console them. But was our suffering Mother also consoled by love for her Son, and the sight of His torments? Ah, no; for this very Son who suffered was the whole cause of them, and the love she bore Him was her only and most cruel executioner; for Mary’s whole martyrdom consisted in beholding and pitying her innocent and beloved Son, who suffered so much. Hence, the greater was her love for Him, the more bitter and inconsolable was her grief. “ Great as the sea is thy destruction; who shall heal thee?” Ah, Queen of Heaven, love hath mitigated the sufferings of other martyrs, and healed their wounds; but who hath ever soothed thy bitter grief? Who hath ever healed the too cruel wounds of thy heart “Who shall heal thee,” since that very Son who could give thee consolation was, by His sufferings, the only cause of thine, and the love which thou didst bear Him was the whole ingredient of thy martyrdom. So that, as other martyrs, as Diez remarks, are all represented with the instruments of their sufferings-a Saint Paul with a sword, a Saint Andrew with a cross, a Saint Lawrence with a gridiron-Mary is represented with her dead Son in her arms; for Jesus Himself, and He alone, was the instrument of her martyrdom, by reason of the love she bore Him. Richard of Saint Victor confirms in a few words all that I have now said: “In other martyrs, the greatness of their love soothed the pains of their martyrdom; but in the Blessed Virgin, the greater was her love, the greater were her sufferings, the more cruel was her martyrdom.”

It is certain that the more we love a thing, the greater is the pain we feel in losing it. We are more afflicted at the loss of a brother than at that of a beast of burden; we are more grieved at the loss of a son than at that of a friend. Now, Cornelius à Lapide says, “that to understand the greatness of Mary’s grief at the death of her Son, we must understand the greatness of the love she bore Him.” But who can ever measure that love? Blessed Amadeus says that “in the heart of Mary were united two kinds of love for her Jesus-supernatural love, by which she loved Him as her God, and natural love, by which she loved Him as her Son.” So that these two loves became one; but so immense a love, that William of Paris even says that the Blessed Virgin “loved Him as much as it was possible for a pure creature to love Him.” Hence Richard of Saint Victor affirms that “as there was no love like her love, so there was no sorrow like her sorrow.” And if the love of Mary towards her Son was immense, immense also must have been her grief in losing Him by death. “Where there is the greatest love,” says Blessed Albert the Great, “there also is the greatest grief.”

Let us now imagine to ourselves the Divine Mother standing-near her Son expiring on the cross, and justly applying to herself the words of Jeremias, thus addressing us: “O all ye that pass by the way attend, and see if there be any sorrow like to my sorrow.” O you who spend your lives upon earth, and pity me not, stop awhile to look at me, now that I behold this beloved Son dying before my eyes; and then see if, amongst all those who are afflicted and tormented, a sorrow is to be found like unto my sorrow. “No, O most suffering of all mothers,” replies Saint Bonaventure, “no more bitter grief than thine can be found; for no son more dear than thine can be found.” Ah, “there never was a more amiable son in the world than Jesus,” says Richard of Saint Lawrence; “nor has there ever been a mother who more tenderly loved her son than Mary! But since there never has been in the world a love like unto Mary’s love, how can any sorrow be found like unto Mary’s sorrow?”

Therefore Saint Ildephonsus did not hesitate to assert, “to say that Mary’s sorrows were greater than all the torments of the martyrs united, was to say too little.” And Saint Anselm adds, that “the most cruel tortures inflicted on theholy martyrs were trifling, or as nothing in comparison with the martyrdom of Mary.” Saint Basil of Seleucia also writes, “that as the sun exceeds all the other planets in splendour, so did Mary’s sufferings exceed those of all the other martyrs.” A learned author concludes with a beautiful sentiment. He says that so great was the sorrow of this tender Mother in the Passion of Jesus, that she alone compassionated in a degree by any means adequate to its merits the death of a God made man.

But here Saint Bonaventure, addressing this Blessed Virgin, says, “And why, O Lady, didst thou also go to sacrifice thyself on Calvary? Was not a crucified God sufficient to redeem us, that thou, His Mother, wouldst also go to be crucified with Him?” Indeed, the death of Jesus was more than enough to save the world, and an infinity of worlds; but this good Mother, for the love she bore us, wished also to help the cause of our salvation with the merits of her sufferings, which she offered for us on Calvary. Therefore, Blessed Albert the Great says, “that as we are under great obligations to Jesus for His Passion endured for our love, so also are we under great obligations to Mary, for the martyrdom which she voluntarily suffered for our salvation in the death of her Son.” I say voluntarily, since, as Saint Agnes revealed to Saint Bridget, “our compassionate and benign Mother was satisfied rather to endure any torment than that our souls should not be redeemed, and be left in their former state of perdition.” And, indeed, we may say that Mary’s only relief in the midst of her great sorrow in the Passion of her Son, was to see the lost world redeemed by His death, and men who were His enemies reconciled with God. While grieving she rejoiced,” says Simon of Cassia, that a sacrifice was offered for the redemption of all, by which He who was angry was appeased.”

So great a love on the part of Mary deserves our gratitude, and that gratitude should be shown by at least meditating upon and pitying her in her sorrow. But she complained to Saint Bridget that very few did so, and that the greater part of the world lived in forgetfulness of them: “I look around at all who are on earth, to see if by chance there are any who pity me, and meditate upon my sorrows; and I find that there are very few. Therefore, my daughter, though I am forgotten by many, at least do thou not forget me; consider my anguish, and imitate, as far as thou canst, my grief.” To understand how pleasing it is to the Blessed Virgin that we should remember her dolours, we need only know that, in the year 1239, she appeared to seven devout clients of hers (who were afterwards founders of the religious order of the Servants of Mary), with a black garment in her hand, and desired them, if they wished to please her, often to meditate on her sorrows: for this purpose, and to remind them of her sorrows) she expressed her desire that in future they should wear that mourning dress. Jesus Christ Himself revealed to the Blessed Veronica da Binasco, that He is, as it were, more pleased in seeing His Mother compassionated than Himself; for thus He addressed her: “My daughter, tears shed for My Passion are dear to Me; but as I love My Mother Mary with an immense love, the meditation of the torments which she endured at My death is even more agreeable to Me.”

Wherefore the graces promised by Jesus to those who are devoted to the dolours of Mary are very great. Pelbert relates that it was revealed to Saint Elizabeth, that after the assumption of the Blessed Virgin into heaven, Saint John the Evangelist desired to see her again. The favour was granted him; his dear Mother appeared to him, and with her Jesus Christ also appeared; the Saint then heard Mary ask her Son to grant some special grace to all those who are devoted to her dolours. Jesus promised her four principal ones: First, that those who before death invoke the Divine Mother in the name of her sorrows should obtain true repentance of all their sins. Second, that He would protect all who have this devotion in their tribulations, and that He would protect them especially at the hour of death. Third, that He would impress upon their minds the remembrance of His Passion, and that they should have their reward for it in heaven. Fourth, that He would commit such devout clients to the hands of Mary, with the power to dispose of them in whatever manner she might please, and to obtain for them all the graces she might desire. In proof of this, let us see, in the following example, how greatly devotion to the dolours of Mary aids in obtaining eternal salvation.

EXAMPLE

In the revelations of Saint Bridget we read that there was a rich man, as noble by birth as he was vile and sinful in his habits. He had given himself, by an express compact, as a slave to the devil; and for sixty successive years had served him, leading such a life as may be imagined, and never approaching the sacraments. Now this prince was dying; and Jesus Christ, to show him mercy, commanded Saint Bridget to tell her confessor to go and visit him, and exhort him to confess his sins. The confessor went, and the sick man said that he did not require confession, as he had often approached the sacrament of penance. The priest went a second time; but this poor slave of hell persevered in his obstinate determination not to confess. Jesus again told the Saint to desire the confessor to return. He did so; and on this third occasion told the sick man the revelation made to the Saint, and that he had returned so many times because Our Lord, who wished to show him mercy, had so ordered. On hearing this the dying man was touched, and began to weep: “But how,” he exclaimed, “can I be saved; I, who for sixty years have served the devil as his slave, and have my soul burdened with innumerable sins?” “My son,” answered the father, encouraging him, “doubt not; if you repent of them, on the part of God I promise you pardon.” Then, gaining confidence, he said to the confessor, “Father, I looked upon myself as lost, and already despaired of salvation; but now I feel a sorrow for my sins, which gives me confidence; and since God has not yet abandoned me, I will make my confession.” In fact he made his confession four times on that day, with the greatest marks of sorrow, and on the following morning received the holy communion. On the sixth day, contrite and resigned, he died. After his death, Jesus Christ again spoke to Saint Bridget, and told her that that sinner was saved; that he was then in purgatory, and that he owed his salvation to the intercession of the Blessed Virgin His Mother; for the deceased, although he had led so wicked a life, had nevertheless always preserved devotion to her dolours, and whenever he thought of them, pitied her.

PRAYER

O my afflicted Mother! Queen of martyrs and of sorrows, thou didst so bitterly weep over thy Son, who died for my salvation; but what will thy tears avail me if I am lost? By the merit, then, of thy sorrows, obtain me true contrition for my sins, and a real amendment of life, together with constant and tender compassion for the sufferings of Jesus and thy dolours. And if Jesus and thou, being so innocent, have suffered so much for love of me, obtain that at least I, who am deserving of hell, may suffer something for your love. “O Lady,” will I say with St. Bonaventure, “if I have offended thee, in justice wound my heart; if I have served thee, I now ask wounds for my reward. It is shameful to me to see my Lord Jesus wounded, and thee wounded with Him, and myself without a wound.” In fine, O my Mother, by the grief thou didst experience in seeing thy Son bow down His head and expire on the cross in the midst of so many torments, I beseech thee to obtain me a good death. Ah, cease not, O advocate of sinners, to assist my afflicted soul in the midst of the combats in which it will have to engage on its great passage from time to eternity. And as it is probable that I may then have lost my speech, and strength to invoke thy name and that of Jesus, who are all my hope, I do so now; I invoke thy Son and thee to succour me in that last moment; and I say, Jesus and Mary, to you I commend my soul. Amen.

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On Being Cheerful

BY JOSEPH MCSORLEY OF THE PAULIST FATHERS

INDEX

Be of good heart. -St. Matthew.

True piety is cheerful as the day-Cowper. Be Cheerful, Sir.-Shakespeare.

Greet the unseen with a cheer.-Browning.

WE live in a world of defects and limitations, where no character is without a flaw, no life without its tempering of pain.

Only on the farther side of the river of death can unalloyed bliss be hoped for. On this side, all is relative and imperfect; the bitter is mixed with the sweet, thorns hide amid the fairest roses, and, sooner or later, the coarse, seamy side of men and things will begin to chafe the most fortunate and the most patient of us.

“Medio de fonte leporum

Surgit amari aliquid, quod in ipsis floribus angat.”

To be cheerful means to make little of these hardships we encounter. The good-natured man looks on the brighter, sunnier side of his surroundings, accentuates the pleasant and beautiful features of life, and smooths over the rough places in the road. In general he is more attracted by the smiling aspect of things than by their frown. Incorrigible optimist that he is, he fixes his attention on the circumstances which give most joy and hope to the heart. In memory, as in speech, he keeps dwelling on the inspiring, encouraging elements of every situation, and on the amiable characteristics of every acquaintance. In a life, his presence is a ray of sunshine; as a friend, he is a man of men.

Few people need to be told that cheeriness is a precious treasure; that the power to overlook or to smile away some of the distressing details of existence is a necessary condition of happiness; that in each life much must be ignored, and in each personality much forgiven and forgotten.

In every situation there are attendant circumstances which, if dwelt upon, are sure to impair harmony. Unless a mind is able to disengage itself from the consideration of these, it rapidly becomes morbid and unhealthy-like the mind of Swift, who is said to have developed so aggravated a cynicism that he could see nothing fair without at once adverting to its hidden elements of ugliness, could look on no beautiful face without imagining the loathsome appearance it would present under the microscope.

The man who is thus hypercritical and faultfinding soon becomes an object of dread to his acquaintances. No matter how witty his mind and interesting his conversation, we quickly learn to fear him; we run away from the sound of his approaching footstep. We prefer the less sparkling but more comfortable speech of the simple good -the people from whom we part with a renewed sense of trust in the innate worthiness and kindliness of human nature, the people who inspire conversation that leaves a good taste in the mouth. One type of this sort is described in the following quotation.

A ROYAL MEMORY

“‘I ALLUS did say,” remarked Aunt Mary, “that Henrietta Wood had a real royal memory.”

Aunt Mary’s niece looked up curiously. “A royal memory?” she repeated. “I don’t believe I understand. Doesn’t she ever forget anything?”

‘That’s jest the point,” Aunt Mary responded promptly. “I should say she forgets full as much as she remembers—mebbe more. That’s part of what I call a royal memory. There’s folks that don’t forget anything; the way you acted the day everything went wrong, hasty judgments that you repented as soon as they were made, words that popped out before you knew your mouth was open-there’s folks that don’t ever forget one of them, nor let you, either. I have one of those memories in mind this minute; I allus feel like flyin” out the back door when I see it comin” in the gate. “But they ain’t the only folks in the world; there’s others that never seem to remember anything except the good in people. I”11 warrant there isn’t a man or a woman in Lockport so shiftless or good-for-nothing that Henriettawouldn’t remember some good about them. People allus freshen up when she comes round. I ain’t ever heard it explained, but I have my theory. I believe it’s because she allus thinks folks up instead of down, and they know it an” sort of straighten up inside to meet it-that’s my theory.”

The girl did not answer, but in her heart echoed those wonderful words:

“Their sins and iniquities will I remember no more.””

What fitter name for such a gift than “a royal memory”? They who possess this characteristic are the best loved people in the world. And they are the most loving people in the world, too; for we can neither attract, nor can we be attracted by, those whose faults and weaknesses we set down with all precision. Only when we see through rosecoloured glass can we truly be said to love; and, if we never view a soul through this medium of fond illusion, the chances are that we do not belong to the class of those who are privileged to love.

Vain is the intention to be fond and sympathetic, unless we can allow for frailties in a friend; hopeless is the attempt to develop perfection, if we faithfully record each fault of a pupil; and futile is the effort to revive a waning affection, except we are ready to forego our fancied right to reproach. A human heart cannot be won by harshness or scolded into tenderness, any more than the hard buffeted traveler, in the fabled contest between the wind and the sun, could be forced to unwrap his cloak as the blast grew fiercer. The genial warmth of fault-forgetting love will always triumph over the drastic criticism of fastidiousness hard to please. Only in the presence of the loving look and the excusing word, do we consent to stand revealed in all our weakness, to humble ourselves, and to enter upon the way of amendment.

He who desires to teach, or who hopes to be loved, must indeed have something of “a royal memory.” He will find thatpeople will gladly pardon the oversights he is guilty of when there is question of a neighbor’s faults; and that his success will in the long run be none the less for his having forgotten many of the weaknesses of men.

THE PERSONAL EQUATION

THE foregoing implies that the difference between the cynic and the optimist is in the main a difference of mental dispositions. And so, of course, it is. A man’s sourness is to be traced less often to his actual experiences than to the view he takes of life. Other women, in the position of “Mrs. Wiggs,” would have been incorrigible grumblers, and their lives immeasurably less happy than hers. Our general view of the world and its worth, our estimate of the relative proportion of good and bad in men, our final sense of content or dissatisfaction with life, depends chiefly on our temperament, and on the habitual policy we voluntarily adopt.

It is well for us to understand this, and to appreciate the large measure of subjectivity in our happiness and unhappiness. After all, pleasure and pain are necessarily relative and personal; in great measure, a thing is distressing or not, accordingly as we do or do not give in to the inclination so to regard it. What hurts the civilized man is smiled at by the savage; what depresses the child of fortune, raised in the lap of luxury, has little influence on the self-made toiler, for whom the air has never been tempered, from whom no protecting shield has warded off rude criticism, and to whom, therefore, there has come a certain degree of indifference to the ordinary blows of adversity.

Again, a man’s impressions depend much on the state in which he finds himself at the moment of a given experi—ence-on whether he is at ease, or in a condition of excitement and nervous tension. These elements all contribute to the forming of his judgment about the general pleasantness or unpleasantness of a situation or a life; and beside all these, each man has still his purely personal fund of underlying emotional consciousness tending to flow over to this side or that, at the first impulse, and to intensify his sense of content or dissatisfaction.

The temperament extends a sort of standing invitation to moods of a certain type; and once the mood has come, it tends to diffuse itself, and to re-enforce the strength of the sentiment which invited it. Thus we see how at bottom much of our misery may be, or rather actually is, an effect of organic sensitiveness, a matter of nervous and muscular tissue.

Hypersensitiveness to pain is thus the source first of the disproportionate attention, then of the unduly strong impression, then of the tenacious imagination, and finally of the abiding general sense of misery and unhappiness, as well as of the accompanying amazement that our neighbor, who has been through similar experiences, is not as wretched as ourselves.

Unless we exert ourselves to stem the tide, and drive our wills strongly in the direction opposite to our natural bent, most of us will find that we are living at the mercy of a set of tendencies which drift us down toward an unhappy and sour view of life. We incline to lay overdue stress on unpleasant events, to paint in heavily the details which tell against a bright and cheerful general effect.

CONSPICUOUS EVIL

FIRST of all, it seems plain that what is evil and threatening attracts attention more imperatively and irresistibly than what is good. Possibly this is a wise provision of Nature to secure the preservation of life since it is more important for man to overlook nothing harmful than to perceive all the good; since in the one case a single instance of insensitiveness would spell destruction, whereas in the other there might remain many opportunities of retrieving the error. Whether or not we thus class this tendency among Nature’s protective illusions, certain it is that men’s thoughts swing more readily toward the present evil than toward the present good. The breaking down of a single preacher is likely to impinge more sharply on the mind than many successful sermons; the one hearer who makes his exit draws more attention than the contented thousand who remain; the long series of correct constructions attracts less notice than the first grammatical slip. This is the lesson we learn by observing others.

When we introspect, the story is no different. Our own hurts and dangers, like the affronts and the disappointments we experience, penetrate deeper into our consciousness, and dwell more indelibly in our memories than the strokes of good fortune and the little courtesies which, in point of fact, are neither less frequent nor less significant. It is the old tale told again- evil springs from any defect whatsoever, malum ex quocumque defectu; but good demands a situation without even a single flaw, bonum ex integra causa.

Moreover, those same things that bespeak our attention thus successfully, also loom largest in consciousness when once they have succeeded in entering. On this account, they get a disproportionate value; they keep cropping out in conversation; and so they repeat and intensify the original impression. It is hard for us to rid our minds of them; meanwhile the obscure little good is hiding away out of sight and out of mind as well.

FAULTFINDING

TAKE for instance the impulse to turn thoughts and conversation into the channels of criticism and faultfinding. Is it not much more dominant in the average man than the interests of accuracy would dictate? Look around and observe how what is noticed first, what is talked about most, what sticks fastest in the mind, is ordinarily something in the nature of an evil, a blunder, or a fault. Note the newspapers, which are at once the stimuli and the reflectors of the public mind. Does not a casual glance at the headlines of the least sensational of them at once flash a vision of crimes and disasters before the imagination? Here and there we may, indeed, discover the record of an act of heroism, or the account of a life

“Serene and resolute and still; and calm and self-possessed.”

But who will pretend that, on the whole, the two elements -the good and the bad-are presented in anything like a fair proportion? How many a hitherto happy family is unheard of until the “interesting” moment when it ceases to be so because one of its members has gone astray?

To devote equal attention to the good and the bad would, of course, not be journalism; it would not be giving men the news they want. So the press must serve up for our daily contemplation all the startling and ugly details of current history which it can ferret out; and, for the most part, happy people are let alone. The very fact that the public appetite demands pabulum of this sort proves that, antecedently, men’s minds have a predominant set toward the less cheerful aspect of things; and, undoubtedly, the nourishment they daily absorb helps along the prevalence of an untrue, because ill-proportioned, view of life.

Note again how our ordinary daily behavior confirms the judgment given above. The absence of some trifling comfort to which a man has been accustomed, excites a feeling of distress more noticeable than the joy springing from his luxuries; his ills and his aches always speak louder to him than his escapes and his lucky windfalls. And as the evils impress him more forcibly, so, too, they dwell longer in his memory and echo louder in his speech. All in all, then, it seems fair enough to say that the average man is accustomed to lay far less emphasis on his pleasant than on his unpleasant experiences.

DEPRESSING THOUGHTS

THUS far we have been concerned mainly with calling attention to the fact that truer valuations would result from an effort to control, and in some measure to repress, the prevalence of impressions which naturally swarm into consciousness. There is this further consideration to be made, that the interests of action still more imperatively demand some such interference with the spontaneous drift of things. And- to waive for the moment the issue whether or not such interference brings us nearer the truth-this much is undeniably certain, that if we allow our minds to be a free pasture for ill-omens and for depressing thoughts, we shall be comparatively inactive and lifeless; the edge will be taken off our interest in life; pessimism will wax strong in us.

An authoritative observer points out that of all the emotions fear is notoriously the most apt to induce trembling and helplessness, to numb activity, and to block the exercise of reason. The usual and obvious signs of fear imply organic derangement: and disturbing thoughts are the beginning of these signs. The amount of pleasure nullified by a sudden fright, or the great cost of restoring the system afterwards to a condition of equanimity, might be used as a standard for measuring these deleterious influences.

In everyday affairs people practically recognize this deadening influence of cheerlessness; and, in consequence, they carefully endeavor to ward off ideas which suggest the possibility of failure. They assume as a matter of course that discouragement implies depression, and that depression involves a diminution of power and a lessening of the chances of success.

Conversely, they take it for granted that confidence is an element of victory. The athlete leads up gradually to his supreme test of strength by undertaking first the lesser tests where success is certain. In this way the physiological, as well as the psychological, predispositions for a record-breaking feat are secured; and if a candidate has failed in his preparatory trial, the “coach” takes care that the real test is not attempted until confidence has been restored by a success of some sort. As for public speakers and singers, it is proverbial how carefully their attention must be diverted from every depressing or ominous incident, when they are called upon for their best work.

The reason for all this is obvious enough. Following the general law of mental representations, unpleasant images awaken corresponding emotional disturbances of a devitalizing kind; the painful idea suggests and induces depression. Like every emotion, this depression in turn reacts upon and re-enforces the kindred mental images; it attracts into the field of consciousness the unpleasant thoughts which harmonize with gloomy moods; it repels whatever is hopeful or bright. Thus the general set of the mind is toward the prospect of failure, and disaster becomes a foregone conclusion.

Once the mind has been thus depressed -and especially if in the first instance failure or misfortune has actually followed-the mind henceforth finds it harder, or perhaps actually impossible, to expel gloomy ideas and to calm disturbance. There ensues an almost superstitious subjection to the sovereignty of the evil and hateful elements of life. It seems useless to strive; and so one yields to the stress of circumstances, and becomes their veritable slave. Perhaps the invalid who is thus progressively losing strength may never attempt to walk again, unless there happens along a physician who will actually drive and bully him into making an effort to exercise muscles so atrophied from disuse that groans accompany their every movement.

UPLIFTING CHEERFULNESS

ST. PAUL tells us that “We are saved by hope”; and the spiritual teachers of the Catholic Church have always laid the strongest emphasis on the fact that cheerfulness makes for godliness. St. Philip Neri and St. Francis de Sales, for instance, talk of the need of being merry and glad and cheerful, as if it were an undeniable and indispensable requisite of true Christian perfection that a man should struggle against thoughts which tend to make him fearful and depressed.

The Church, it is true, preaches the virtue of fear, too; but every one acquainted with the type of sanctity she holds up for the imitation of her children, and with the standards by which her religious orders determine vocations, and with the principles her ministers make use of in the guidance of souls, and with St. Ignatius” famous rules for the discernment of spirits, will be ready to affirm that Catholicism is as far away from gloomy ideals as it is possible to be without falling into exaggeration at the other extreme. The highest motive of all therefore, the pursuit of the supreme ideal of spiritual perfection, impels us to the cultivation of a cheerful temper.

The common tendency to dwell upon depressing things is fortunately not dominant in every soul. We can find models for our imitation in those persons who rise above the reach of life’s ills, little and great, and are always either absorbing or giving out fragrance and music and sunshine. They know the secret which transforms evil into good, and pain into joy; and on the great mass of their experiences they exercise an influence which makes discomforting things amusing and commonplace things delightful. Possessing as it were a great surplus store of cheerfulness, they can, by a sort of divine alchemy, plate dross with gold, and transform into a pleasure what to another would have been a matter of indifference, if not of suffering.

To bear thankless burdens and undertake odious responsibilities and suffer unjust reproaches, to serve the neglected and the impatient, to act as oil on the troubled waters, to be as a buffer when collisions are impending, and a breakwater when the waves run high- these are not trials, but privileges to some people; or, at least, they are duties easily and gladly performed. An inconvenience or a slight is to them, for the most part, but an occasion for the exercise of their ingenuity in discovering excuses and explanations. Apart from the fine opportunities of spiritual growth and happiness which they thus enjoy, they have this other advantage, that their reaction against the common inclination to emphasize the ills of existence, helps them to a more objective view than the average man ever attains.

CONTROL OF FEELING

IT is idle, of course, to spend time or energy in wishing that we had been gifted as these souls have been, but we may hope to profit somewhat by the consideration of their behavior. They show what a determined will can do toward securing a happy disposition and perennial peace of mind. It is true that most cheerful men have been born so; but equally true is it that many have achieved cheerfulness. Not until a man realizes this, does he possess a proper sense of the opportunities which are constantly gliding by.

But when the awakening comes, then, at least, it is to be hoped, he will be inspired with the firm determination to be more cheerful, more lovable, and more happy in the future than in the past; for surely no one should permit his cheerfulness to be cut down without making a determined resistance.

There is one point, more than all others, which needs to be impressed on those who, as yet, possess no power to smile away misfortune; namely, their own ability to acquire this power and, by its exercise, to brighten very considerably their own and their neighbors” lives.

It is not possible, at the present moment, to go into the whole question of the volitional development of character; neither is it necessary. Everyone recognizes that persistent effort can do much to affect the habitual temper of the mind. A system voluntarily toned up is, within certain limits, capable of throwing off the depressing influences to which, in a less buoyant mood, it would have offered an inviting entrance. To some extent, a resolute will can do by effort what a cheerful disposition effects spontaneously.

Obviously this is the case, at least with our choice of topics of speech; we can avoid the unpleasant, the critical, the discouraging. It may require a little self-restraint, at first; but we can succeed if we are willing to pay the really trifling price.

Then, too, we may do something by means of inhibiting the outward expression of unpleasant emotions; for it is recognized generally by physiologists that an emotion is raised or lowered in intensity, accordingly as the physical manifestation of that emotion is forbidden or allowed. It is in this way that we often restrain our emotions of anger, jealousy, vanity, and fear. The menace of pain goads the will to the conquest of an untimely exhibition of temper, by summoning up a violent emotional wave calculated to counteract the first impulse; and, in some degree, the same office may be performed by a determined suppressive volition.

The voluntary control of emotion by restraint of this last sort is, in a way, more direct than the control we exercise over emotion by means of our thoughts; yet, as it supposes the emotion to have already been aroused, it necessarily implies that the task is going to be more difficult; for to quell a mutiny is harder than to prevent its outbreak.

CONTROL OF THOUGHTS

PREVENTIVE steps can be taken by the exercise of control over the contents of the mind. We can modify, alter, quicken, or retard the current of images and ideas continually flowing through consciousness, and thus we can foster or repress the thoughts apt to beget cheerfulness. In this regard, the power of the will over ideas is three-fold.

First, we can interfere with the natural association of thoughts, and by sheer force shunt the mind off on another line than that which it was following; that is to say, we can deliberately swim upstream, we can sail outside the channel, we can pursue the less trodden path.

Again, we can voluntarily elect to form new associations of images, by linking ideas in such a way as shall serve the interests of cheerfulness, forming and reforming the connection, until a groove has been made, a habit set up, and a new current created which will make for our elation as the old made for our depression.

And finally, even though unpleasant images be forced into consciousness, we still can say something as to the amount of attention which shall be given them, and we can take away all voluntary attention from it, by concentrating it, with all our power, upon some other object. Let us at least do all we can to enlarge our dominion in the land of hope and cheerfulness and to be numbered among those delightful and valuable people who all their lives long have

“Never doubted clouds would break,

Never dreamed, though right were worsted, wrong would triumph, Held we fall to rise, are baffled to fight better,Sleep to wake.”

It would be idle, of course, to pre tend that ability of this sort is ready to every man’s hand, or that it can be developed in a moment. The important point is that it can be developed, if we are earnestly resolved to acquire it. A strong determination and persistent effort will soon give us some power in such matters, no matter how rudimentary our faculty may at first appear to be.

MEDITATION AN AID

AS TO the means we should employ to carry out a course of self-development in cheerfulness, the question may be looked at from many points of view; we can get suggestions from the hygienic, the pedagogic, the ethical, and the religious fields. When all counsellors have had their say, it seems to remain clear that each of them attributes a good deal of efficacy to the exercise which the Catholic Church has for ages recommended and practiced under the name of “meditation,” namely, the methodical presentation to the imagination and intellect of pictures and ideas calculated to awaken beneficent emotions, healthy affections, and good resolutions.

Among the curious sights presented to us nowadays, is the vindication of many a good old Catholic practice by means of the new principles which, to so great an extent, have been supposed to discredit the Church. Meditation is one such practice; and we find it recommended now by the representatives of modern psychology as a fine instrument for mental formation and character-building.

A specific use it may be put to, is the development of a spirit of cheerfulness; and when this is undertaken, we shall have at least one good result, that men will be using their energy in the right direction and employing an efficacious means. Even though it be but the human side of the process which appeals to them, they will surely be in some way the better for it, and, therefore, necessarily nearer, to the kingdom of God.

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On Charity

FROM THE CATECHISM OF RODEZ

INDEX

FIRST INSTRUCTION

ON CHARITY TOWARDS GOD

CHARITY is a gift of God by which we love Him above all things, and our neighbor as ourselves for the love of

God.

Of the three theological virtues it is the sweetest and the most excellent; it is the one which gives lustre and value to all the others, and without which faith and hope would profit us nothing: Now there remain faith, hope, and charity; but the greatest of these is charity (I. Cor. XIII, 13). St. Paul says: If I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, and have not charity, I am become as sounding brass, or a tinkling cymbal. And if I should have prophecy, and should know all mysteries, and all knowledge, and if I should have all faith, so that I could remove mountains, and have not charity, I am nothing. And if I should distribute all my goods to feed the poor, and if I should deliver my body to be burned, and I have not charity, it profiteth me nothing (I. Cor. XIII. 1–3). But, on the contrary, with charity we have all. In the love of God and of our neighbor are contained the law and the prophets (Matt. XXII, 40); that is, the whole Gospel and all the duties which it prescribes to us. Therefore, it is important to know well the nature, necessity, and practice of charity. We have to devote several instructions to this subject. Let us begin with the charity towards God, and first let us study its motives and characters.

II. Why should we love God? Undoubtedly, because He commands us to do so: Thou shalt love the Lord thy God (Matt. XXII, 37). Using the absolute master over our hearts, has He not the right to require that we should consecrate ourselves entirely to Him? “But, O my God,” cries St. Augustine, “was it then necessary to command us to love Thee? Would it not be for us the greatest of all misfortunes, if we did not love Thee?” We should love God because He is infinitely amiable, because He is infinitely good and just, that is, we should love Him from a motive of justice, from a motive of gratitude; and, shall I say it, we should love Him for our own interest.

1st Motive. Justice.—I will not undertake to draw a picture of all the divine perfections. It is an abyss into which our weak intelligence cannot penetrate. The angels and even the seraphim, who see God face to face, can only contemplate Him, love Him, and celebrate His praises. God alone can understand Himself, and all I could tell you would be infinitely below the reality. Thus, if I were to tell you that God is not only infinitely great and powerful, but that He is the greatness and power itself; that He is not only holy and wise, but that He is holiness and wisdom itself; in short, if I were to tell you that God possesses in Himself all the qualities and all the perfections that can be imagined, and that He possesses them all in the most perfect degree, this, undoubtedly, would be telling you something, and, nevertheless, it would be nothing in comparison with the reality. I would be only lisping like a child, and I could say with the prophet: I cannot speak (Jer. I. 6).

To form an idea of the grandeur and perfections of God, represent to yourselves all that is the greatest, the most amiable, the most magnificent, in creatures, in the firmament with its numberless stars, in the seas with their extent and the immense riches lying in their bosom, in the earth with its inexhaustible fruitfulness, finally in all that nature can offer to our eyes as most seducing and most enchanting, and you will have but a dim shadow and obscure picture of the infinite beauty of God. It is from Him, as from a fruitful and inexhaustible source, that flow all the perfections of creatures, all the wonders of the world: but they are only a pale and slight reflex of God’s greatness. By His sovereign and immortal glory He eclipses and effaces all created beings more than the sun, which at its rising eclipses the stars of the firmament. He is so beautiful, He is so great, He is so amiable, that in heaven His sole presence enraptures the blessed and plunges them into ecstasies of happiness and love. The more they love Him, the more they feel themselves moved to love Him; and we ourselves upon earth, if we could see Him such as He is, could not help loving Him and would never grow tired of loving Him. One glimpse of His glory and majesty would forever deprive us of our will, and even of the power to displease Him; our happiness would be similar to that of the heavenly spirits, and the earth would become another paradise. St. Paul was one day carried into the third heaven, and for a moment he beheld the ineffable light which the elect enjoy. This magnificent spectacle, which the eye of man has never seen, threw him into inexpressible admiration, and from this time life became a burden to him and he longed to die in order to go and possess God forever.

Yet how does it come that we love such an amiable God so little, and that we have such love for the vanity, the goods and pleasures of this world? Blind as we are, we prostitute our hearts to idols of flesh and blood, we sigh only after vain riches and frivolous dress, and we do not realize that all that is beautiful and perfect here below comes from God who is the author of all things. We love the creature, and we do not love the Creator; we admire the work, and we forget the workman who made it. Oh, children of men, harden not your hearts (Hebr. III, 8).

2nd Motive. Gratitude- If you are insensible to the voice of justice, perhaps you will listen to the voice of gratitude. Since God loves you so much, will you not feel yourselves bound to love Him in return! Measure, if you can, the full extent of the love which God bears you, and count the benefits with which He overwhelms you every day. Without speaking of those you have received in the order of nature, such as life, health, goods, talents, what has He not done for you in the order of grace? Children of a guilty father, you were in His eyes only objects of wrath and vengeance. Eternal damnation would have been infallibly your lot, if God, who alone could redeem you, would not have had mercy on you. What, therefore, has the Lord done to save you, or, rather, what has He not done? He had a. Son, an only Son, the only object of His complacency, God like Him, eternal, almighty, and perfect like Him; and this Son He sacrificed, He immolated for you, as if He loved you more than He loved His own Son.

And the Son of God Himself, the Saviour, how far did He not push the excess of His love? Consider Him in the stable of Bethlehem, follow Him into the Garden of Olives, into the various tribunals of Jerusalem and up the mount of Calvary; does your heart not speak to you at the sight of so many prodigies of pain, annihilation, and love? Tell me, if one of you had been condemned to death by human justice, and if the only son of a king should be willing to die in his place, could the condemned man remain insensible to such love! And, nevertheless, remark that the only Son of God, the King of kings, not only died for you once on the cross, but He immolates Himself still every day on our altars and, what is still more incomprehensible, in His ineffable love He found a way to remain always with us; even to give Himself to us, to nourish us with His divine substance, and identify Himself, so to say, with us! Can one conceive a prodigy of love like this; and could God, all-powerful as He is, do anything more? How in considering all this could we refuse to love a God who loved us so much? If any man love not our Lord Jesus Christ, let him be anathema (I. Cor., XVI. 22). His heart would be harder than the stones that were rent at Jesus’ death on Calvary, more insensible than the dead themselves who then arose. We would have to say that he who refuses to love God has no heart at all.

3rd Motive. Our Own Interest.—To the reasons we have to love God, drawn from motives of justice and gratitude, I wish to add a last motive, not less powerful, that of your own interest. My brethren, do you desire to be happy in this world and in the next? Love God.

In this world, happiness is possible only in so far as one has peace with his conscience, peace with God: There is no peace to the wicked (Is. XLVIII. 22). But if our heart is penetrated with the love of God, what sweetness, what consolation is ours! St. Paul, even in chains and in the horrors of a dungeon, tells us that he abounded with joy (II. Cor. VII., 4). St. Xavier, in the midst of the fatigues of his apostolate and in a foreign land, among idolatrous peoples, cried out:”My heart is too full of joy, O Lord, my happiness is too great!” Have you not sometimes experienced the joy of God’s love? Remember the day of your first communion, of a good confession. Have you ever enjoyed happier days?

But it is especially in heaven that we shall taste the unspeakable joys and sweetness of divine love. In this world, God lets fall His sweetness only drop by drop; but in heaven, it is in torrents. In this world, we see God through the shadows of faith, but in heaven we shall see Him face to face and such as He is (I. Cor. XIII. 12). And in seeing Him we will love Him with the most holy and most perfect love. Oh! who could express the whole extent of happiness which the saints find in the ecstasies of this love! One day St. Monica was conversing on this subject with her son Augustine, when, suddenly, her heart became so inflamed with the divine love, that she lost all power of speech and fell into an ecstasy. Having come to herself again, she cried out:”O God, what am I doing here below, and what can bind me still to this earth? Why is it not given me to flee at this very moment into Thy holy tabernacles?” And we, also, my brethren, would look with disgust upon all the perishable things of the earth, and we would sigh only after the eternal felicity, if we rightly understood the happiness that is awaiting us there.

III . How should we love God We must love Him with our whole heart, with our whole mind, and with all our strength (Matt. XXII., 37). This means we must love Him with a sincere love, with a love of preference, and with an efficacious love. To love God with a sincere love is to love Him not only with our lips, but from the bottom of our heart. To love Him with a love of preference, is to love Him more than all that is dearest to us in this world, more than father and mother, more than one’s own life. To love God with an conscious love, is to be disposed to observe faithfully all His commandments and those of His Church; it is to be resigned to the orders of His Providence in all the trials He sends us, in all the afflictions that befall us; it is to refer to Him all our actions, all our pains, and to have no other intention but to do in all things His holy will. To love God “with one’s whole heart, with one’s whole mind, and with one’s whole strength,” is to fly with horror and to detest sovereignly all that displeases Him; it is to be firmly and sincerely resolved to sacrifice riches, honor, and even life itself, rather than to commit a venial sin. Finally, it is to think often of God, to be happy in His presence, to love to visit Him in His temple, to pray to Him, and to converse with pious and fervent persons.

Can we say, my brethren, that thus far we have really loved God with this sincere, sovereign, and efficacious love? You, for instance, who totally neglect the duty of prayer, the services of the church, the sacraments, can you say that you love Him? Surely you do not. And you who live in hatred of your neighbor, who unjustly retain his goods, who daily tarnish his honor by your calumnies and slanders, can you say that you love God? Surely not. And you who have criminal relations with persons of the other sex, who live in the habit of sin and shame, can you say that you love God? Surely not. And you who respect no law of the Church, who observe neither fast nor abstinence, who do not receive Holy Communion even during Easter time, can you say that you love Him? Surely not. And you, lukewarm and indifferent souls, who fulfill your duties only by half, who do everything with disgust, and rather through custom and routine than through devotion, who are not afraid at all to commit venial faults, can you say that you love God and love Him above all things! No, you do not love Him.

O, my God, what a number of ungrateful children you behold here today at your feet! Pardon us, O Lord, our iniquities, our lukewarmness, and our indifference. Yes, we acknowledge that until now we have been far from loving Thee as we should have done, but in future we shall love Thee all the more. It is very late, indeed, that we begin to love Thee, O beauty ever ancient and ever new; but we commence at last and we shall try to love Thee always more and more, to love Thee above all things and to love Thee until death, in order to deserve to love Thee perfectly and to possess Thee eternally in heaven. Amen.

SECOND INSTRUCTION

ON CHARITY TOWARDS OUR NEIGHBOR

AFTER having treated of the motives and characters of the love of God, there remains for us to speak of the necessity of loving our neighbor and the manner in which we should love him. These two loves are inseparable, and the one is not less indispensable than the other; for, says St. John, if any man says, I love God, and hateth his neighbour, he is a liar (I. John IV, 20). This is why in the act of charity, after declaring that we love God above all things, we immediately add:”And our neighbor as ourselves.”

Three principal motives should induce us to love our neighbor: the voice of nature, the voice of grace, and the formal command of God.

I. The Voice of Nature- We are all children of the same father and members of the same family. Rich and poor, great and small, Christians and infidels, we all have the same origin which is God, the same nature and the same destiny which is heaven. Hence, that sympathy by the natural inclination we feel for our fellowmen, when we are not influenced by selfishness and passion. Man naturally seeks the company of man; he loves it, he desires it, and he feels miserable and unhappy if he is condemned to live in solitude.

Men are born to live in society, to help one another in their pains and needs; they are not made to live in a savage state, like the animals in the woods. But without this benevolent charity, and without this mutual love of which we speak, how would society be possible? Is it not evident that without it men would soon come to treat one another like ferocious beasts, always ready to surprise and to devour one another; whilst by charity man becomes to man like a second Providence, by the good offices he renders him.

My brethren, if we would all love one another, what a happy change would soon take place in the world! How compassionate would the rich be to the poor! How honest and obliging would the poor be to the rich! What peace and good order would reign in families, in parishes, and communities. There would be an end of all disorders, divisions, and hatreds, which so often bring on terrible catastrophes and even threaten to overthrow society! Whence arises that dissatisfaction which exists today more than ever in society, that violent antagonism between the poor and the rich, those mutterings of discontent and that rumbling of a strife that threatens to subvert society? It is because there is no longer any charity among men. People have become selfish, each one seeks only his own interest, and envies all that are above him in rank and fortune, and men are not ashamed to employ the most unjust means to elevate and to enrich themselves at the expense of others. Show me a country, a perish, a family where charity reigns and you will see that there is neither trouble, nor discord, nor theft, nor slander. Peace reigns supreme therein, and the members have a foretaste of paradise. How happy and peaceful men would be, if everybody would practice charity!

II The Voice of Grace.- We are not only rational and social beings, but we are also Christians, brothers of Jesus Christ, and members of the same holy Church. What a powerful motive for union and mutual love. Behold, says the apostle St. Paul to the Romans, the different members which compose the human body; how anxious they are to assist one another! When one of them is suffering, how all the others feel uneasy, how they exert themselves, as if they were anxious to assist it! When you happen to get a pin in the foot, says St. Augustine, the eye quickly tries to discover it, the back bends down, and the hand makes efforts to tear it out. When somebody wounds you in any part of the body, the tongue cries out: You hurt me. It does not say: You hurt my foot or my hand, but: You hurt me; showing the intimate union which reigns among the various members of the body.

So, also, are we all members of the mystic body of Jesus Christ, and through Jesus Christ we should sympathize with the miseries of one another, assist one another in our needs, and love one another with the most sincere and most efficacious love. Look at our divine Saviour, our chief and our model, and see what wonderful examples He has given us of this charity during His whole mortal life. Was there ever a man that loved his fellowmen as Jesus Christ loved us? Follow Him in all the circumstances of His hidden life, as well as of His public life, study Him in all His words and in all His actions, and you will see that His every word and action was dictated by the most tender charity. I shall not enter into detail about all that He did in favor of men, to relieve them in their evils and to do them good. I would have to quote the entire Gospel; let it be sufficient to remind you of the stable of Bethlehem and of Calvary. What more could He do to show us His love? Now, my brethren, should not the disciple follow in the footsteps of his Master? And how can we flatter ourselves to be disciples of Jesus Christ, if, instead of this fraternal love and this sympathizing charity with which the whole Gospel breathes, we have for our brethren only indifference, hatred or contempt?

III. The Formal Precept Which God Has Given Us.—If there is in the Gospel a positive and fundamental law, it is certainly the law of charity. One day a Doctor of the Law asked our divine Saviour which was the greatest precept of the Law, and He answered: Thou shalt love the Lord, thy God with thy whole heart, with thy whole soul and with thy whole strength. This is the greatest and the first commandment. and the second is like to this: Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself. (Matt. XXII, 37–39)· During His whole lifetime, Jesus Christ often reminded His disciples of this obligation; but in order that it should never be effaced from their memory, He returns to it again on the eve of His death, and in that wonderful discourse which He made at the Last Supper, and which we may regard as His last will, He said to them: My children, my little children, filioli mei, I am going to leave you. But before I separate Myself from you, I wish to give you a new commandment, which is to love one another, as I nave loved you (John XV., 12). Why does Jesus Christ call this commandment new? It is not new, indeed, as to the substance, because it dates not only from the law of Moses, but from the very origin of the world; but it is because Jesus Christ asks of us a more perfect love than that which had been prescribed until then. In another place He adds that it is not only a new precept which He wishes to give them, but it is His precept: This is my commandment. As if He were saying to them that this is His whole law, and that all the other obligations which He imposes on them can be reduced to the one: To love one another as He has loved us, That you love one another as I have loved you (John XIII., 34).

And in order that there may not be the least doubt about His words, and to make us understand the importance He attaches to this commandment, He adds, in the same place, that it is by this mark, that it is by this fraternal love that everybody will know whether we are His disciples. By this shall know all men that you are my disciples (John XIII., 35). It is not, says St. Augustine, by the power of driving out devils, or raising the dead to life, or by working the greatest miracles, that Christians will be known, but they will be known by fraternal charity. Our Saviour wished that charity should be the distinctive character of the Christian, the mark by which everybody could recognize His true followers.

How, then, can we doubt the necessity of fraternal charity, and how can one believe himself to be a Christian if he does not love his neighbor? Consider the life of the early Christians, instructed in the school of the Saviour; what peace, what union, what charity! There was never among them the least hatred, the least discord; never any lawsuits nor litigations; even poverty was unknown among them, because those who had goods shared them with those that had none. In a word, the Acts of the Apostles tell us that they had but one heart and one soul (Acts. IV., 32). Even the pagans, those sworn enemies of the Christian religion, were astonished and amazed at the charity which reigned among the Christians: Behold how they love one another, they said, thus rendering involuntarily testimony to the word of our divine Master, who had said: By this shall aid men know that you are my disciples.

How, then, can any one call himself a Christian if he has no charity? You, hateful and revengeful spirits, who never let pass an occasion to injure your neighbor, can you call yourselves Christians? And you, unjust retainers of another’s goods; you, indefatigable litigants, going to court for the most trivial causes; you, men without heart, and you who let the poor die of hunger or cold rather than assist them, can you say that you are the disciples of a God who died a victim of love for us? Can you claim to be members of a religion whose distinctive mark is charity and benevolence? No, you are not Christians, and if you continue to walk in your evil ways, you cannot expect to share one day in the rewards of Jesus Christ.

My brethren, it is related in Church history, that the Apostle St. John, while living at Ephesus and being unable to walk, on account of his great age, caused himself to be carried into the church on the arms of his disciples, and not having the strength to make long discourses to them, he contented himself with saying:”My children, my little children, love one another.” And when his disciples, somewhat tired of hearing him always repeat the same thing, remonstrated with him, he made to them the beautiful answer:”I always repeat this to you, and this alone, because it is the precept of the Lord, and it alone is sufficient, provided it is well observed.” Neither can I, my brethren, repeat these words too often: love one another. Charity, the Gospel, behold the abridgment of the Christian religion! Without charity all the rest is useless; I would deem myself happy, if I had convinced you of the absolute necessity of charity, especially if I could win you to practice it always. Oh, how happy the parish, how happy the family would be, if charity reigned triumphant! O God, if there is any desire in my heart, it is that charity may reign among this little flock entrusted to my care, which I love with my whole heart, and to which I desire to consecrate my cares and my life! Amen.

THIRD INSTRUCTION

ON CHARITY TOWARDS OUR NEIGHBOR (CONCLUDED)

IN THE last instruction I demonstrated the necessity of fraternal charity; today, I am going to show you its practice. Our Saviour Jesus Christ Himself taught us this when He said: This is my commandment, that you love one another, as I have loved you (John XV., 12). Jesus Christ loved us to the extent of suffering and dying for us; our charity must, therefore, be sincere and efficacious. Jesus Christ loved us solely for our salvation; our charity must, therefore, be pure and holy. Jesus Christ loved us all and without exception, because He suffered and died for all men; our charity must, therefore, be universal.

I. Our charity must be Sincere and Efficacious. Let us not love in word, nor in tongue, says the apostle St. John, but in deed and in truth (John III., 18). Our Lord says, Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself (Matt. V. 43). The love we bear to ourselves must, therefore, be the measure of the love we bear to our neighbor. We must wish and do to others what we desire that others should wish and do to us. “Therefore, let us examine,” says St. Augustine, “how we love ourselves and from this let us concludehow much we should love our neighbor.” Everyone loves himself, and no one likes to hear others speak ill of him; let us, therefore, never speak ill of our neighbor. Everyone wishes to raise himself to honor and fortune, to succeed in his affairs; let us, therefore, not be jealous of the honor, the fortune, and the success of others. Everyone wishes to have his faults tenderly dealt with, to be consoled in affliction and to be helped in sickness and want; let us, therefore, do to our neighbor what we wish that he should do to us.

If charity consisted only in words, or in protestations of compassion and love then, indeed, there was never a century more charitable than ours. But we must come to actions. We must make sacrifices to relieve the unfortunate, to give bread to the hungry and clothing to the naked. We must not stop at words of pity. Our actions must demonstrate our charity, else we lay ourselves open to the charge that we love our neighbor with our lips, but our heart is far from him. It is easy to love our neighbor in words, but the true test of charity lies in the sacrifice of our goods, our pleasures, and ease and comfort for the sake of the unfortunate. Charity in words is mere egotism. Like the Jews of whom the Gospel speaks, who seeing a man lying by the road, covered with wounds and half-dead, and seeing him passed by, so do we often remain insensible to the miseries of others. Ah! my brethren, let us imitate the good Samaritan, let us prove by works that we love our neighbor as ourselves, and let us treat him as we would wish to be treated !

II. Charity must be Pure and Holy. What motives have we to love our neighbor as ourselves? We are all children of the same father who is God, members of the same body which is the Church, and because Jesus Christ, our Head, commands us to do so. Therefore, we must love all in God and for God’s sake. The natural affection which we feel for certain persons, on account of their character or physical or moral qualities, is not charity. This attachment may be good, but it has its dangers. “Would it not be loving for hell,” says St. Chrysostom, “if one would love another only with evil intentions and wicked designs?” Religion does not disapprove the human affection which one has for his parents, benefactors, and friends. It is a law which God has implanted in our hearts. But that natural affection, without relation to the Creator, is not what religion prescribes. To love our neighbor only with a natural and interested love would be loving him as the pagans do, and there would be no merit. “The true Christian,” says St. Francis of Sales, “loves God in his neighbor, and his neighbor in God.” He loves God in his neighbor, because he refers to the Creator all the affections he has for the creature, and because he loves his neighbor only on account of God. He loves his neighbor in God and for God, that is for the salvation of his soul, and because God wills it.

This is that pure and holy charity, that sacred fire which Jesus Christ came to bring upon earth. How beautiful and precious it is, and what blessings it would procure us, if we would practice it according to the example of the Saviour! But alas! where are they who truly love their neighbor? Some love, because nature inclines them to love, and their heart can no more be without love than the sun can be without heat and light. Some love only those whose character and opinions agree with their own, or those who do them good, or who are able to help them. Some love their companion in pleasure, or the accomplices in crime. They damn the souls of others they love, while damning their own. What strange charity! Is this the love commanded by the Gospel? And are not those scandals and disorders that we see all around us, those quarrels, those family dissensions, the fruit of a perverted and criminal love? Young people of both sexes be careful never to permit the fire of impure love be enkindled in your hearts.

III. Charity must be Universal. Such was the charity of our divine Saviour. He loved poor and rich, pagans and Jews; those who persecuted Him as well as those who loved Him. He suffered and died for all men. He wants us to imitate His example and love all men without distinction of character, country, condition, and even of religion. He wishes that we love the stranger, as we love our nearest and dearest neighbor, Jews, Mohammedans, and heretics, just as we love the members of our own true Church. Thou shalt love thy neighbor, says Christ. He excepts nobody, not even our enemy. You have heard, says the Saviour, that it had been said: Thou shalt love thy neighbor and hate thy enemy. But I say to you: Love your enemies, do good to them that hate you; and pray for them that persecute and calumniate you, that you may be the children of your Father that is in heaven, who maketh His sun to rise upon the good and bad, and ruineth upon the just and unjust. For if you love them that love you, what reward shall you have? Do not even the publicans the same? And if you salute your brethren only, what do you more ? Do not also heathen do this? (Matt. V., 43–47). If, then, we desire to be true Christians, we must love all our fellowmen, without distinction. And if there were in the world only one single person, whom we did not love, we would not have charity. But you may say: How can I love those who, far from loving me, seek, on the contrary, to injure me in every possible manner? I know that the love of our enemy is something very difficult. Perhaps it is the most difficult precept of the entire Gospel. But God commands it and we must obey. But, you may say, to love my enemy I must pardon him; and if I pardon him I will be looked upon as a coward. No, my dear brother, do not believe this; on the contrary, you will be only the more respected and esteemed by all good people, for there is no greater victory, no victory more honorable than the victory over self. In the Lord’s Prayer you say: “Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us.” But if you do not pardon, why do you ask to be pardoned? And by asking God to treat you as you treat your neighbor, you ask Him not to pardon you. You cannot recite this prayer without condemning yourselves. In temptations to anger or revenge, look on the crucifix. Think of Christ on the cross. Can you call yourselves the disciples of a God who pardoned His very executioners and prayed for them on the cross, if you cannot forgive an injury, or even an unkind word? O cross of my Saviour, what hatreds and wraths hast Thy remembrance extinguished? It was the cross which disarmed John Gualbert, when, having met his enemy unarmed and alone in the forest, he was about to revenge himself for the murder of one of his relatives. After this victory over himself, God rewarded him with such extraordinary graces, that he became a great saint. It was the cross that caused the tomahawk to fall from the hands of a savage at the moment when he was going to strike the holy bishop of Bardstown, Monseigneur Flaget. This pious missionary uncovered his breast and showed to the Indian his crucifix, saying: “Behold the image of Him who died for you on the cross; strike, if you dare!” Instantly the savage fell at the feet of the holy bishop and asked to be baptized.

Imitate these beautiful examples and pardon your enemies, not once but “seventy times seven times,” in the words of our Saviour, that is, always. Do not content yourselves with pardoning your enemy in your heart, but go and reconcile yourselves with him, salute him, speak with him when he desires to speak with you.

Has your charity all the marks of true Christian love? Charity must be sincere and efficacious. Do you give to the poor according to your means; do you bear with patience the faults of others., Charity must be pure and holy. Do you love everybody in God and for God’s sake, or do you nourish at the bottom of your heart an impure and criminal affection? Charity must be universal. Do you harbor hatred against any one? Do you love everyone as you love yourselves? Do you wish to everyone the same good which you desire for yourselves?

St. Paul enumerates the qualities of true charity: Charity is patient and full of kindness; it envies not; it is not puffed up, it is not evil, rejoices not in inequity, but rejoices with the truth; it bears all things, believes al things, helps all things, and endures all things. (I. Cor. XIII., 4–7).

May God grant that your charity be such, and that after having been united by the bonds of an intimate charity here on earth, you may love one another in a happy eternity. Amen.

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On Entering Eternity

BY A PRIEST

INDEX

Death is a revealing of God, in fact that is by far the greatest happening in death.

How often do we look that far ahead, or consider seriously, what we have to expect in death. We take it for granted, at least generally, but rarely think of it. Yet it opens a way of life that lasts forever. Life here will soon end for all of us, as we read daily in the death notices, or see at a funeral as the remains of someone we know is lying there lifeless and cold.

That body must soon be buried, because decay sets in, so short is its life. If the grave were opened again sometime later we would find little left of that body which received so much attention in life, where its needs and desires, and its many pleasures and comforts were so sought after. So often are these fleshly desires our goal, too often even at the cost of the life of God in us, sin is committed and this most important life of all is destroyed.

Repeatedly we endanger that divine life, and even drive it away in sin, seeking rather the goods of this body which will soon die and rot in the grave, instead of those of the soul which will live forever.

GRIM REALITY OF JUDGMENT OF GOD

The grim reality of judgment by God, with its eternal consequences of Heaven or hell is seldom faced and little prepared for. The world is so fleeting, so temporal, and so unable to satisfy our true needs.

The greatest goods it has to offer are only a weak reflection of eternal goods in Heaven. Earthly goods come from Him Who is infinite Good. If there is any good on earth, it can only come from Him Who made it good and then He must be infinitely more good. What fools then men must be to forget about Him Who created all goods: What fools men must be to spend a lifetime here seeking more and more of these limited goods and rarely thinking about, much less seeking properly, the goods which last forever.

WHAT HAPPENS IN DEATH?

“He remembers that we are but flesh, a breath that goes out and does not return” (K . . . 77–39). But what happens in death? What of this unknown beyond. us? Of course we know that this body stops functioning and rots away not long .after. All signs of life cease immediately, breathing stops and the organs of the body stop their work. This is the obvious part; everyone sees.

But is that all there is? What happens to the rest of human nature, that which is not so obvious to onlookers? While the body rots in the grave as any animal, what happens to the rest? Man can do things which an animal cannot do, such as reasoning, speaking, writing, expressing ideas, spiritual actions; therefore he must be more than a mere animal. There must be in man something at least as spiritual as these spiritual actions mentioned. With the body only, we are merely animal with only animal powers. The great many works of music, architecture, philosophy, literature and the many intricate works of man, could then never be. Then too there could never be a life after death, for all life would cease at death.

THE SOUL

But we know there is a soul from constant experience with it, as well as by divine revelation, and that it. is spiritual, so its life goes on after the body dies. This reality which we know by experience, as well as from divine revelation, is called the soul. What happens to the soul in death? Since it is spiritual it does not die as animals which are material die, or the body dies, but lives on, in fact normal death does not affect the soul at all. Our mind and will are both spiritual, and of the soul, as arc their actions.

So our consciousness with all that we are and have learned remains; our free will with its choosing, its loves and its hates, also lives on; the personality which was ours in life lives on with its attitudes and inclinations. So, by far the most important part of our being is not affected by death, but remains as it was. Things which are of the body die with it, as do our appetites, our passions and sensations. But our soul lives on and it is far more important, it lives forever. DEATH: SEPARATION OF BODY AND SOUL

Death then is a separation of body and soul leading to the destruction of the body. The soul loses its usual means of expression and its normal tool for learning, i. e., its bodily senses and powers. But that which we had learned and experienced before, remains ours, and what we had done before is done for all time and remains on our record. Our consciousness becomes far inure clear. Almighty God supplies for the lack of that most useful tool, the body, and we continue without it more active than before.

The life of the soul goes on without any interruption. The general behaviour and attitudes, loves and hates, that we have acquired and practiced before, remain ours and we will face our divine Judge with all that on our record, with our deeds, with all that we have made ourselves to be by our own free choice.

If we have practiced hatred towards our fellow men, that evil remains ours. If we have had habits of sloth, especially in practices of Faith, that same laziness and indifference will remain. If we have regularly filled our minds and imaginations with lustful thoughts, our minds and wills remain locked in that evil. If we have filled our lives with constant seeking after material goods and amassing more wealth, that evil love and false ‘god’ will still be our great all-possessing goal in eternity.

So it will be with every virtue and vice, every good and evil of life here. That which we have made our lives to be while we were here on earth, united in soul and body, will remain after death, in our souls, part of our being, and with this we will have to face our divine and infinite Judge. By our earthily loves, by our decisions, we make ourselves what we finally end up to be. That which we love forms us, or again, we become that which we love, as we work and sacrifice for it. But God loves us and has sacrificed much for us and even brings us into existence out of love for us and for the plans and goals which He has for us. How have we loved Him?!

DEATH BRINGS US TO TRUTH

So death brings us the moment to truth, the terrible meeting with our Creator, with Our Judge, Our God, the infinite Good, the Author of all Truth. Suddenly the earth which seemed so solid and sure, which preoccupied so much of our time and attention before, literally fades away before true reality. All at once we see through and beyond this world of material as though curtains were being drawn back. It then becomes so unimportant to us; all of its worries, fears, needs, hopes and plans do not matter anymore. Suddenly we see this world for what it really is, a mere veil standing before the great reality, a curtain in front of true life and Being. Everything here at best is only a vague shadow and imitation of that true life with God and of Heaven. The brightest lights here are dim by comparison with this divine light.

There is really a wonderful, beautiful light waiting for us just beyond the darkness of this world, like nothing on this earth. “There was a man, one sent from God, whose name was John. This man came as a witness, to bear witness concerning the light, that all might believe through him. He was not himself the light, but was to bear witness to the light. It was the true light that enlightens every man who comes into the world” (Jn. I: 6–9). This light is not a mere figure of speech, but a really wonderful, unearthly, light which is very bright and filled with all delights. So as our bodily eyes and the rest of our bodily senses grow weak and cease to function, and when everything is ending, or so it appears to onlookers, a great new light and a new awareness of truest reality overwhelms one.

THE FIRST STEP

This is the first step only, and it is an awakening to a whole new world of great wonders, all of which were hidden from us before. Here we will know directly and immediately, without words and languages. This light is so beautiful. it can only be described as the light of glory. The wonders of this supernatural light and life with it then begin to come over us; a life in this glory that is far, far greater than all that ever was here on earth. Now the actual poverty, the darkness, the weakness, and the foolishness of all this world has to offer is obvious. There is a great new opening up of brilliant light, a wonder that far surpasses all we ever dreamed of, as the splendor of God’s presence begins to appear. All at once we see, with eyes of our mind, and we see an unbelievable new world that is so great we are lost in wonder, and already it brings tears of joy of our bodily eyes, even in the state of near death, as we learn from those who experience it. “The splendor of God will he as light” (Roman Breviary).

Then we see another great marvel, far greater yet, and it is that God has been very near all the time, at arm’s length, so to speak, right before us all through life, so near it would seem we could have reached out and touched Him; so near that He certainly was with us all the while on earth, observing our actions, passing judgment on them, and awaiting patiently for our love and service. All the while He was holding out His supporting hands to us, waiting for us to take them. And this is only the beginning of our introduction to the divine presence: only the beginning of our true awareness of God and eternity.

SECOND STEP BEGINS

Then the second step begins, and with it a very serious problem appears. The modern mind would like to believe every man will immediately enter into glory; but what really happens? The great moment and confrontation of our life is at hand. All we are and have made ourselves to be by our own free choice is how we stand before Him Who contains all wonders. He gave us freedom to choose, to act as we wanted, even helped us with His graces, so we are totally responsible for what we have become. The divine justice is absolute, perfect and infinite and the time for judgment has come. So as we are, we come before such a terrible Judge, and into His presence with all His divine perfections and wonders of every imaginable kind, and many which we never even dreamed of, in the splendor of His presence which is so brilliant, so pure and beautiful.

But coming into this wonder is a terrible sinner, ourselves, lowly, earthbound, materialistic, selfish, lacking in true love for God, and neighbor whom God loves and has created; we are so full of excessive love for creatures of God, in place of Him their Creator. Here we stand; the creature whose treasures, wealth and property, whose ‘gods’ are on earth. But the earth has been left far behind and left with it are all its treasures, which we held so dear. We who are impure because of earth’s impurities, come before the God Who is absolutely pure, free of all defilement of earth, a Pure Spirit, Who is absolutely, infinitely good. We the speck of dirt come before the God of all: the untold wonders of God before a foolish sinful man.

OUR REACTION?

What can be our reaction to this pure light and presence of total goodness? How uncomfortable, how fearful we must be. Is the divine judgment comes the sinner is already seeking a way to escape this terrifying perfection. The sinner knows only too well he does not belong in that presence. Here is all love, all goodness and all truth; and before it we stand, too often sadly lacking in these perfections. Before this true God of infinite perfection we stand totally exposed, naked in our own sad state. Picture the terrible contrast; the infinite and sublime in God on the one hand, and the foolish and the sinful in us on the other hand. The light of such a terrible contrast cannot be endured.

There is only one recourse, and that, like Adam and Eve after their sin, is to flee, to seek a place where this glaring light of perfection is not found. We have been created for God, for eternal union with Him, and can find only there the fulfillment of all our wishes, our desires and our needs. He has been the true good behind all we always desired, vet He is so far above these, our earthly goods, that we do not fit in His company, we do not belong in His divine presence.

TWO HIDING PLACES

There are two hiding places where we may flee, where we will not have to endure the terrible presence of this absolute perfection.

Hell:- One of them is called hell, where the sinner will never have to endure this absolutely pure light. There he will never have to face that perfect goodness of God which he finds so unbearable. There also all hopes, desires and needs, all that man was created for will never be satisfied, but rather be totally and eternally frustrated. This is for the .sinner who has nothing of God’s life in him, no sanctifying grace. There will be terrible suffering of fire, not to purify for better things, for such a one does not ever belong with God, but to punish as is due forever and ever, with a fire that burns the soul, and will burn the body also. There will be no escape, no way to change this terrible state. There will be much company with others who hate the true good, those in heresy and error, those who promoted discord, the earthly, and those who did not truly love Him Who is infinitely lovable.

The company there will be with others who are the same as the sinner entering hell. There will be disgust and horror without end. The many vices that were practiced and sought after on earth will bring punishment of the same kind in hell, coming to the sinner (for he sought these as his ‘god’), until long after satisfaction is reached and then more yet and on without end to disgust and nausea. So each is given that which he chose here, as his ‘god,’ but only that, and not Him Who is the true God and Who only can fill all our needs and desires and bring true happiness. The true Good will never be his, or happiness, or peace or rest, in fact all that man was made for will be lacking him. No suicide, so that one can end it all, will be possible, but there will be an overwhelming urge and constant desire to do so, to totally annihilate the very being given by the Creator, for in hell there is no hope- only despair and eternal fire!!!

Purgatory:- The other place to hide from this infinite divine goodness is purgatory. In so many ways it is like hell, having similar punishments of fire and frustration of all desires, etc., but being very different in a very important way.

Purgatory is a place to flee from God for the unworthy who nevertheless have God’s life in them, sanctifying grace. Purgatory too is a terrible place, a place of punishment, a place of much terror, so terrible that the worst punishments and sufferings on earth are as nothing compared with it.

But this fire which burns the spiritual soul, as in hellfire, is not to endure forever. It burns rather to purify one of the impurities of this world which have been contracted, to purify our charity, and to purify us of our unjust wrath, our excessive pride, our too great attachments to creatures rather than God their Creator, and all vices man is capable of, which have been forgiven but not atoned for. It is a thousand times easier to suffer before death for these impurities, for the suffering is so terrible. The book by Fr. Shouppe, S. J. gives many examples, which all graphically illustrate this point.

But this terrible suffering is not everlasting as that of hell. It is a place to flee for those who are unworthy of God yet, but who have something of God in them, i.e., the true Faith and sanctifying grace. In Purgatory there is hope, instead of despair; there is some genuine love of God. This fire burns rather to cleanse so that we may be worthy of the divine presence. It is a merciful fire, and punishment of God’s love for the sinner. All know they need this cleansing, they know they as yet do not belong in God’s company. They are grateful for this punishment, because it will ready them for God one day, perhaps long in the future, many years by earthly standards, perhaps even centuries, as Fr. Shouppe indicates.

This is the teaching of Our Lord and therefore of the Church and the Saints.

TIME TO CONTEMPLATE

You and I still have time to contemplate these facts seriously. The light of God’s glory shines for us here on earth already now, only it is too often not recognized. It can be recognized only by a humble acceptance of God’s words in a Faith resting on grace. Revelation of divine truths, God’s institutions here on earth, such as the true Mass and Sacraments, and laws to govern his children here are all instances of this divine light and glory already now. How terrible it is to reject any of these, as they are of God and His glory, and what a sure sign that is of eternal ruin for us.

So God reveals and gives us a little of His divine light and life already now, only here we must accept it on Faith, whereas in Heaven it will be plain to see and will bring great joy for all there, since one’s understanding and appreciation will then be supported by God.

As St. John the evangelist, the beloved disciple says, “In Him was life, and the life was the light of men, and the light shines in the darkness; and the darkness grasped it not” (I, 4). The world is darkness, as is the mind of man so often when preoccupied with this darkness, so this divine light is often not seen or appreciated. Yet the light of God is present already, if only we will see it with the eyes of Faith; i. e., humbly and wholeheartedly accept what we cannot understand and usually not appreciate now.

But if we will not believe God’s words and works now, we will not see this light of God in eternity either. Our failure to atone adequately for our sins, our seeking after pleasures and goods of this world so totally, and many other evils, only assure us there will be punishment to come. Our failure to pray fervently and often is another sign of future trouble. One who will not pray well is by that fact showing he does not care for the company of God, there are other matters he prefers. Such a one will not find that blessed company thrust upon him after death either. But in our day when there are so many who are in the state of mortal sin, and who do not choose to have God’s life and light, His grace and Faith, in them, that punishment will certainly be non-ending in hell, for that is their choice.

How awful it is to tamper with any of God’s works, for these are of Heaven and are bringing joy now to the angels and saints there. Also to be so satisfied with the cheap earthly light of man’s wonders, such as T.V., the movie screen and all his deeds, only closes the door to us of the heavenly light of God. We read of a wondrous new invention claimed by Thos. Edison, when he lit up his house and all the grounds around with electric lights, as a show to others of what man can do. This was such a marvel compared to the darkness of night-time otherwise, and made others marvel at the earthly paradise being brought about by man. Of course electricity has done many good things. But the heavenly light of God is far, far greater, and is referred to often in the Bible as well as other spiritual writings.

This is the light that surrounds God; a light of intense beauty; so wonderful that it brings tears of joy to the eyes of mortals even at the briefest glimpse, as in near death. Here there is all truth, all mysteries are contained here and without end. There is no obstacle to overcome of strange words or languages for we will know directly and at first hand, and there is the fullness of joy without end for all those found worthy to abide near this heavenly Being and Presence.

But the vast majority of mankind today is satisfied with the cheap lights of this world and is totally engrossed in these. Would this alone not indicate that they are headed for hell?! One cannot follow the works of satan in this life and then expect to spend eternity with God, as common sense tells us. He whose company man seeks here below, shall be his companion (if we can call him that), after death and forever and ever.

But God now offers us a little of His divine light of truth and His works. To reject that light now is to reject it in eternity. “Beneath, behind and through it all there is the stupendous truth that no man loses God by accident, no man wanders off the road home in spite of himself, no man is in rebellion against the will of God except by his own open declaration of war” (My Way of Life, p. 35). We cannot choose to act in defiance of God’s words and works now, and then expect to be in union with Him forever. Our company then can only be that of him who first defied God. Each moment of life we make the choice between Heaven and hell. How precious is then, each moment of time, for all eternity rests on it and our use of it. “Great riches are found in each moment’s choice between Heaven or hell” (My Way of Life).

OBEDIENCE TO GOD

Then carefully consider your life now; how it pleases God, how obedient to Him you are, how much you comply with His word, and that in spite of what any man says otherwise. Obedience to any man is no excuse for disobedience to God. Many of the Saints had to give their lives for the ‘pearl of great price,’ the true Faith, because it is more valuable than all else, for in it the light of God is found. Then we too must be prepared to make such a sacrifice for this inestimable treasure.

Also we must obey all of God’s laws to the fullest, and receive His institutions, as He instituted them, and not some man-made version of them. These all we find in the centuries old, and continuous tradition of the Church in her official teaching in all its sameness and continuity. Anything new or different cannot be of God, because God does not ever change.

Are you totally loyal to God? Do you accept all his truths and institutions just as He formed them long ago? Are you obedient to His Will? Consider how great is the terrible danger you face. What a horror to spend eternity in hell!! How much remorse and regret for what could have been.

How terrible to come before God and recognize that one does not belong in that divine company. We are made to be with God and in union with Him. Then let us adore God properly now, that we may share in the wonders of God and the joy of that adoration in eternity. It is only in truly adoring God that any creature can find happiness, for that is his proper place as a creature. How wonderful is the reward for true love and fidelity, and how easily it can be ours. We so easily love creatures now; then how much easier it should be to love their Creator now too, and to adore Him in the manner He has determined and with the means He has given us.

All of you who have found new and different ways of adoration or whatever, ask yourselves whether you are really adoring God, or perhaps only each other and serving your pleasures. These ideas which you profess today, so contrary to all tradition, do you think they will win you salvation. If they, in their entirety, did not come from God, then you who follow them, can only be rejecting God and His works now and in eternity. It is surely wise to think about this matter; after death it will be too late. Don’t worry about your neighbor and what he will think; what does God think of you?

If you are not completely loyal to Almighty God now, you are headed for a harsh judgment. Our Lord may tell you in judgment, that since you served man so well, get your reward from him too, and that you have already had this reward on earth. He who seeks Heaven does not seek a reward or acclaim from man. Rather he quietly serves God first and always, and then trusts in God for a reward, forever in Heaven.

We must always obey God, but of course abuses or misuses of God’s authority in man may not be obeyed. But God is still a kind Father Who cares for His children on earth and helps them in every way to eternal life, in fact holds it out for us to take. For those who will take these precious gifts now there is waiting a perfection of happiness, a satisfaction of all desires, in the wonders of life with God in His divine light.

REMINDERS OF HEAVEN

Surround yourselves with beautiful images of Our Lord and His saints in picture and statue, as constant reminders of Heaven where the saints are and where you hope to be. Keep and use blessed sacramentals as means of heavenly grace and divine helps. Receive the Sacraments truly; and with devotion and frequency, thereby living now in the divine presence in preparation for permanent union with God in Heaven. Strengthen and preserve your Faith in all God’s revelations through your practices of Faith, devout, readings and meditation.

Always fulfill God’s holy Will as lovingly and perfectly as possible. Also, humility is a most important virtue for those who hope for Heaven, and closely with it, that of resignation to God’s Will. He who humbly resigns himself into the hands of God, no matter what happens to him, is by that very fact very close to God.

So the veil of this life which stands before eternity is really only a testing ground and a time to prepare. Let us not fall in love with the veil, and dedicate our time and efforts to it. “What does it profit a man, if he gain the whole world, but suffer the loss of his own soul” (Mark, 8:36). It will soon disintegrate for each of us. This life is a mere preparation for the life to come and therein only lies its importance. How we live it and cooperate with grace determines our life for all eternity, and that is our real life.

DEATH A GREAT REVELATION TO ALL

Death will bring a great revelation to all; it can be a revelation of God, an eternal Christmas; instead of an end of life, it should be really only a beginning of a most wonderful life for the blessed. Every task under God’s Will, every suffering, every proper act of love of God, all lead to this most wonderful reward. So seek God now, but do so wholeheartedly; love God now, but do so with all your powers and at every opportunity and all the time. Seek, wait for, and try to acquire now, the divine light of eternity in Faith, rather than be satisfied with the earthly false lights which are around us.

Let us serve the true God always, for that is why He created us; and let us do so entirely and with the power of His graces, and all His divine means. No matter what the cost, be ready for Heaven at death. Let us pray for each other that we may meet again before and with God in eternity, in the eternal light, and be there forever in the most blessed company of the Saints.

A most important prayer for every day should be that of three Hail Mary’s for a happy death, as the child turning to its mother for help in this most urgent need. It is also a great work of charity to pray daily for the dying. St. Joseph is the patron of the dying; pray for his intercession with God. Pray to St. Sylvester, who upon seeing the body of a friend at his funeral, gave up everything and gave himself to penance and prayer because he then realized how passing is this life. “In order to go straight to Heaven, one must make a close acquaintance with the Queen of Heaven” (Fr. Paul, p. 221).

“Eye hath not seen or ear heard, nor has it entered into the heart of man, what things God has prepared for those who love Him” Cor. 2:9).

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On Making A Good Confession

WALTER JEWELL

INDEX

THE FIRST STEP

Let us begin by seeking some quiet corner of the church where there is little disturbance. Later, of course, we shall need a Confessor, but in all the work that goes before we must minister to ourselves. This, however, need not alarm us at all. What we have to do is very simple and straightforward. In fact, it is the way of a child, a path that many children, young and old, have successfully followed before us.

Further, there is not the least reason to doubt that God will help us. The most appealing note in the parable of the Prodigal Son is struck by the words : ‘And when he was yet a great way off, his father saw him and was moved with compassion and running to him fell upon his neck and kissed him ‘ God does not content Himself with waiting for poor sinners to approach Him- He comes running to meet them. His arm is about us now, and He is drawing us on to a perfect reconciliation with Himself. Let us surrender ourselves, then, to this wonderful courtesy of God, and ask confidently for the help of His grace.

In whatever prayer we use for this purpose, let us remind ourselves that God knows all things utterly, and any idea of screening things from Him is simply laughable. Our attitude must be the precise opposite. We must surrender ourselves completely, and thankfully lay ourselves open to the divine scrutiny. ‘Send forth Thy light into my soul, and discover to me all those sins which I ought to confess at this time. Assist me by Thy grace, so that I may be able to declare them to the priest, fully, humbly, and with a contrite heart, and so obtain perfect remission of them through Thine infinite goodness.’*

There is lesser help, too, which we shall be well advised to obtain. This Sacrament is essentially a homecoming-a return to the divine Family And under God Himself, no one will be so interested in such a return as our Lady, the Mother of God and the mother of us all. We can ask for her assistance with every assurance.

‘O most gracious Virgin Mary, beloved Mother of Jesus Christ my Redeemer, intercede for me with Him. Obtain for me the full remission of my sins and perfect amendment of life, to the salvation of my soul, and the glory of His name.’

In addition, our individual helpers, the Patron whose name we bear and the Angel appointed by God to be our guardian, will be intensely concerned with what is going on. Let us also ask their help.

EXAMINATION OF CONSCIENCE

Having paved the way by prayer, it is clear that we must now look into our consciences and discover our sins. There is nothing morbid about this practice, for our object is a practical one. We are only surveying this dark army in order to destroy it. We can look upon past sins fearlessly because their day is done, and we are in a position to examine them with care.

Do we find this difficult? If so, we might feel disposed to postpone this Sacrament to another occasion when we may be feeling in the mood. But this is not at all a good idea, as mood and opportunity so seldom come to us hand in hand.

A far better plan is to take a planned examination of conscience, and to study it leisurely. It will be found a good enough net to draw up from the depths of our memory all the necessary matter for confession. For convenience, one of these examinations is given below.

Have I without sufficient reason missed my Easter duties or Mass on any Sunday or Holy-day of Obligation, or eaten meat on a day of abstinence, or not observed the fast?

Have I used the name of God in vain, in anger, or carelessly?

Have I omitted my daily prayers or said them badly?

Have I been careless in my preparation for, or thanksgiving after, receiving the Sacraments?

Have I been wanting in gratitude to God, or in confidence in God, or in resignation to His holy will?

*All quotations are from the Simple Prayer Book

Have I been dishonest by stealing or cheating, or not paying bills, or debts, or not doing the work well for which I am paid or which it is my duty to do?

Have I been uncharitable by thought, word, or deed, or omission?

Have I told lies, to injure anyone or to excuse myself?

Have 1 revealed secrets I was bound to keep, or read other people’s letters?

Have I been disobedient, rude, or sulky to those in authority over me?

Have I contributed to the Church according to my means?

Have I been harsh, overbearing, or sarcastic to those under my authority?

Have I brooded over injuries, or refused to forgive?

Have I been angry, envious, or jealous?

Have I despised others, or given scandal or bad example?

Have I been vain, proud, selfish, or self-seeking? Have I been immodest or impure in thought, word, or deed with myself or with others?

Have I been greedy or intemperate in eating or drinking?

Have I given way to depression or self-pity?

FOR MARRIED PEOPLE

Have I failed to show love, respect, and good example towards my partner?

Have I neglected my duty to my children in regard to their religious instruction, to their training in good habits, and to their schooling?

Have I sinned against the duties of married life?

We should now have a sufficiently clear idea of what we ought to confess. We need not feel concerned if the list seems very short. Not many of us indulge in a wide variety of sins. It is usually a matter of our having submitted again and again to a few favourite vices which have over-shadowed our lives and become our masters-a tyranny which we must certainly determine to overthrow.

One or two scruples are liable to trouble us at this stage, and we must deal with them firmly or they will impede our progress. There is the question of forgetfulness, for example. Suppose that there should lurk in our past some grave offence which our research has failed to bring to light? Will not this hidden foe in the darkness, unconfessed and unabsolved, stand between us and the divine forgiveness?

No. In the Sacrament of Penance what is forgotten is forgiven, provided, of course, that the forgetfulness is sincere, and not merely a refusal of the mind to turn towards some skeleton in the cupboard. God does not ask for exceptional feats of memory before forgiving us. If we really cannot recall a sin, He is prepared, in His great mercy to forget it with us.

Sometimes we are in doubt as to whether we have sinned or not. Strange situations sometimes arise, and it is not always clear whether the path we elected to follow was in reality the right one. Possibly it was so overcast by our own doubts that we had no moral right to tread so dubious a way. Or again, we may have fallen victim to some absurd scruple which our common-sense should have rejected at once.

What shall we do -remain here for the next hour puzzling it? Not at all. What we must do is to take in to our Confessor our sins and our doubts together, so that he may forgive the one and resolve the other. He is, after all, a spiritual doctor, and a patient is not expected to explain to a physician the precise meaning of all his own symptoms. Let us simply note that we have here a matter for consultation when the moment arrives.

There is also the question of venial and mortal sins and their distinction. We know that mortal sins must be confessed because they mortally wound the soul and make of God an enemy, and thus need absolution more urgently than a severed artery needs the attention of a surgeon. How shall we distinguish them from lesser offences that need not be mentioned ? Well, we know whether, with full and free consent, we opened the door of our minds to greet the temptation as a guest. Whether, with eyes wide open, we embraced it with full knowledge of what it was. And lastly, whether the sin involved a real insult to God. If the answer is a three-fold ‘yes,’ then the sin was a mortal one, and must certainly receive attention now.

And what of those lesser sins of ours which are known as ‘venial’? It may help us to understand their nature if we compare them with an attack of measles. We know that a child will not die from this disease in itself, and similarly, a small offence against God will not put an end to the divine Life in the soul. The child can recover from measles without the aid of a doctor, and venial sin need not be brought to the Confessional. It can be covered by ordinary contrition alone, should we prefer, for any reason, to leave it unconfessed now.

And yet it is foolish to treat an attack of measles lightly without bothering the doctor. Why? Not because the disease itself is dangerous but because of its possible complications. It may lead to broncho-pneumonia, which is often fatal. And it is quite possible for venial sin to drag a man’s soul down to hell, not directly of course, but by giving birth to something far worse than its parent. It is therefore good policy to confess all the sins we can remember- mortal sin because it is essential, and venial sin as a wise precaution.

CONTRITION

Having our sins thus arrayed before us, what is the next step? It is contrition- sorrow for sin based on the love of God.

Now it is obvious that we are sorry for our sins, or what are we doing here? But we may well ask what sort of sorrow it is. We may feel that there is within us little warm genuine love of God, but plenty of healthy fear of the eternal darkness, fire and exile of hell. Will God accept this? Yes, He always meets us more than half-way, and what we lack now He will generously give us in the Sacrament itself. ‘And the father said to his servants : Bring forth quickly the first robe, and put it on him, and put a ring on his hand, and shoes on his feet.’

The above attitude of mind is known as ‘attrition,’ and it will serve. But can we not offer to God something better than the minimum by rising to true contrition, i.e., sorrow for sin on account of our love for Him? Almost certainly we can.

But first a word of warning. We must not allow ourselves to be concerned or worried about the state of our feelings. Our moods are as changeable as the weather, and we can control them little more than we can regulate sunshine and storm. We can enjoy pleasant spiritual feelings when they come, but we should depend on them never. What we have to do is a matter for the mind and will.

Let us look at a Crucifix for a while, and turn over in our minds the various elements of the Passion. The agony in the garden, the insults, the spittings, the blows, the scourging, the crowning with thorns, the heavy weight of the cross, and finally the Crucifixion itself.

We know, of course, that this intense suffering was on account of our sins. But this term ‘our sins’ does not merely mean the offences of men in general. It means those same acts that you and I have gathered together in our minds for this confession. Christ died for us as individuals, and our personal sins were really present to Him when He hung upon the Cross to redeem us.

This truth, of course, soars far beyond the imagination, but we are not concerned with what we can imagine. It is a fact, and in the light of it we must look upon our sins and see them for the detestable things they are.

Let us go a step further. What is the reason for this boundless generosity on the part of God-made-Man? Why have we poor sinners been loved so overwhelmingly?

We can only reply that God is God, and His mercy outstrips anything that we could possibly have expected. The divine Compassion finds expression in the Cross, and it is the infinite Love that has thus sought us out through the ages.

We can thus mount upon the Cross to survey God’s utter perfection and absolute Holiness in Himself. And the Church wishes us to see our sins set up starkly against this ineffable background of divine Goodness. And here we have the highest motive for contrition : God is supremely lovable, and therefore sin is altogether horrible. We can be sorry for our folly, because He is the infinite Wisdom; sorry for our lies because He is the eternal truth; and sorry for our hate because He is Love itself.

‘I grieve from the bottom of my heart that I have offended Thee, my most loving Father and Redeemer, unto whom all sin is infinitely displeasing; who hast so loved me that Thou didst shed Thy blood for me, and endure the bitter torments of a most cruel death.’

‘I firmly resolve to forsake and flee from all sins, and to avoid the occasions of them; and to confess, in bitterness of spirit, all those sins which I have committed against Thy divine Goodness, and to love Thee, O my God, for Thine own sake, above call things, for ever.’

We know what is brought about by an act of perfect contrition. It is so pleasing to God that it is followed immediately by the full embrace of divine forgiveness even before we approach the confessional, and can effect the writing off of all punishment due to us. Have we succeeded in making it? Well, such questions are decided by God alone, not by us, so we had far better leave that matter in His hands. At all events, we have offered Him something better than the lowest form of our sorrow, and we need have no doubt that He will accept it.

We will have noticed in the above prayer a resolution to sin no more, and this strikes a note on which we are likely to pause. We have an uneasy sense that we are in no position to offer God guarantees of this kind, for we know too well the shifting sands of our fallen nature.

And yet this fear need not obstruct us. We know ourselves, yes, but God knows us a great deal better. In fact, He knows us utterly. And He is asking us, not for a guarantee, but for a resolution. He expects us to declare war upon our sins, and to fight them, but He does not expect that we shall never again be brought down upon the field of battle. With full confidence, then, we can place in His hands the resolve He is expecting.

‘I am now resolved, with the help of Thy grace, to be more watchful over myself, to amend my faults and fulfil Thy law. Look down on me with the eyes of mercy, O God, and blot out my sins.’

This is a good time to say the Confiteor. It is a remarkable prayer, for it reminds us that God and the whole heavenly Court are listening to us now. This is startling, but true, for our Lord has told us of the joy in Heaven over one sinner that repents.

‘I confess to Almighty God, to Blessed Mary ever a Virgin, to Blessed Michael the Archangel, to Blessed John the Baptist, to the holy Apostles Peter and Paul, and to all the Saints, that I have sinned exceedingly, in thought, word, and deed, through my fault, through my fault, through my most grievous fault.

‘Therefore I beseech the Blessed Mary ever a Virgin, Blessed Michael the Archangel, Blessed John the Baptist, the holy Apostles Peter and Paul, and all the Saints, to pray to the Lord our God for me.’

AT CONFESSION

We are now in a position to make our way to the Confessional. It is not a good idea to run hurriedly over our sins on the way. Our memories will be the fresher for a brief rest.

Upon entering, we are greeted with a blessing from the priest. This is God’s welcome given to us through His minister, to which we can best respond by opening our hearts and minds to Him now.

Our Confessor will want to know what time has elapsed since our last confession. The fear of this question has turned some foolish people away from the very threshold of the Confessional. Clearly, it should have the opposite effect. If the prodigal son has gone abroad into a far country, there is the more reason for hastening his return. This first step may indeed be difficult, but it is a step from the darkness of our past into the light of God’s home. And the opportunity, if rejected now, may never return.

Throughout the confession itself, sincerity must be our guiding star. The Confessional is the sincerest tribunal in the world. In any other court there is always the possibility of gaining some sort of benefit by means of deception. But here such a policy could only spell a man’s ruin from the outset, for God is the Judge. Similarly, in other situations, one might gain some advantage by a certain affectation of manner, but here it could only impede the flow of grace to the soul, for the divine Court is the audience. As it is impossible to deceive God, there can be no point in veiling the truth from His priest.

When we have finished, there is no more to do for a while but to listen. But it is important that this should be done well. We know that we ought not, with intention, to let our attention wander during a sermon addressed to a congregation, and here the priest is talking to the individual man about his own personal failings. There is nothing here that we can afford to miss.

THANKSGIVING

The devotion imposed upon us by the priest as our penance is a matter of the first importance. It is not ‘just another prayer,’ and even if it were, all prayer is a ‘lifting up of the heart and mind to God.’ But the matter goes deeper than that. This penance belongs to the Sacrament itself, and is directly related to the punishment due to sins after they have been forgiven. If we remember the sharpness of God’s punishments, we are not likely to scorn the road of mercy. Let us be sure that we understand the very little that is asked of us before leaving the Confessional.

Listen attentively to the advice of the priest and make a fervent act of contrition while he gives you absolution. He makes the sign of the Cross at the words : ‘I absolve you from your sins, in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.’ He adds the following prayer: ‘May the Passion of our Lord Jesus Christ, the merits of the Blessed Virgin Mary, and of all the Saints, whatever good you have done and whatever evil you have suffered, gain for you a remission of your sins, an increase of grace, and the reward of life everlasting. Amen.’

Little need be said on this topic, because it is an expression of all that has gone before. If previously we were spiritually lepers, we have become clean and wholesome men; if slaves, the chains of guilt have been broken; if outcasts and aliens, we are restored to the freedom of the City of God, and received by Him as sons. It is our realization of this marvel that must go into the words that we now offer:

‘O almighty and most merciful God, who according to the multitude of Thy tender mercies, hast been pleased once more to receive me, after so many times going astray from Thee, and to admit me to this sacrament of forgiveness, I give Thee thanks with all the powers of my soul for this and all other mercies, graces, and blessings bestowed on me ; and casting myself at Thy sacred feet, I offer myself to be henceforth for ever Thine. Let nothing in life or death ever separate me from Thee.

‘Mary, Mother of God, be a Mother to me.’

FOR THOSE WHO HESITATE

There are people who fear the Confessional. To many Catholics, who make regular use of the Sacrament, this may seem very strange. Why should a man who is sick avoid the doctor, and a sinner turn away from consolation and forgiveness?

Still, we must face the facts. It is no uncommon thing for sick men to fear medical attention, and for Catholics who know they need a Confessor to turn back from his very door. There is a reason for all things, and I propose to add a few words now on that last-minute hesitancy which might so easily cost a man his soul.

It is certain that in some cases it is due to a fear of being stormed at. This is most common, probably, among those who have badly lapsed, and who are returning to the Church after having wandered long and far from her care. Their minds are preoccupied with the years, the deeds, and the omissions which stand between them and the Catholic way of life, and they just cannot imagine how they will be received; unfortunately, they are inclined to fear the worst.

It is obvious, of course, that even if these fears were fully justified, they should really prove no handicap. Most of us manage, at some time or another, to upset our fellows, and we soon learn that a certain amount of rough and tumble in life cannot be avoided, if we are to achieve anything whatever. And it would surely be worth collecting a few mental bruises and bumps for the sake of complete reconciliation with God. And yet in fact the experience is nothing like so soul-searing as many a lapsed Catholic is apt to imagine.

Consider this matter of conscience. An accusing conscience is the very reason why we confess -a sort of strong tide bearing us towards the Sacrament. It is an absurdity to allow it to become a sudden gale driving us away from it. And it will be a good deal less likely to do so if we keep before us a clear mental view of the priest.

The priest is a man and a sinner, and has his own spiritual difficulties. None of us can afford a lofty view of other people’s shortcomings. A priest is probably less likely to lapse from the practice of his Faith than the ordinary man, but this is mainly due to the nature of his calling.

He kneels in Confessionals besides sitting in them, and his own personal acquaintance with sin expresses itself in his dealings with his penitents. Many a man who has expected to meet with mere sharp criticism has found a subtle sympathy and understanding which has melted him. The powers of a priest are remarkable and far-reaching, but there is nothing about them to lift him bodily from the ranks of poor sinners and set him up as a being apart. Further, we must remember that in this Sacrament the penitent accuses himself, so it is hardly necessary for the priest to do it for him. His work is to lift the burden and to point the way.

The second possible obstacle we might consider is the fear of broken confidence. This is not at all likely to trouble a Catholic, for the reasons which will follow. But to those at present hovering on the threshold of the Faith, this dread might well cause a faltering of the feet and a failing of the heart. Plenty of Pharisees still walk the earth, and a man’s past sins might well rise again to overshadow his social life and shatter his business career, if intimate matters confided in the Confessional were allowed to become common knowledge.

Now no good friend would betray a confidence, and the Church is very much more. She is our Mother, and she has no wish to see her children punished to that extent. And there are certain matters which arise between the soul of a man and his Creator, which are the concern of no other man, not even the priest, save only in his capacity of God’s minister. And the Church has gone to great lengths to secure this divine and human privacy.

A priest may not speak of these matters, but the law is deeper and wider than that. For example, all men have learned the language of signs, and significant gestures without words are a commonplace. Simple acts like jerking the thumb, inclining the head, pursing the lips, or shrugging the shoulders can sometimes convey a great deal of information. But a priest will not use these methods to convey the secrets of the Confessional, for he must not convey them in any way whatever. Nor will he even pass on knowledge which, although not given to him in the Sacrament, nevertheless grew out of information thus gathered.

In certain circumstances the silence of the priest may involve him in difficulties. It might even endanger his own life or the life of another, but it is more important that the life of the Sacraments should go on unhampered. It might endanger his good name, but the good name of the Catholic Priesthood is of higher importance. Human justice might seem to demand giving up the information, but the rights of God and the needs of man cannot be sacrificed to it. Even if some public disaster might be avoided by his speech, he cannot bring about the greater disaster of hampering the way of men on the road to grace and pardon. And if an oath should be urged against him, the seal of the Confessional must prevail.

In short, any man entering or re-entering the Church is protected on all sides, and the road is clear, definite, and safe. Fears concerning it are unsubstantial shadows—strange ghosts of the imagination, which must never be allowed to arise between us and the full restoration of life with God.

********

Our Daily Bread

BYRT. REV. JOHN A. O’BRIEN, PH.D

INDEX

The greatest gift which a loving and merciful God has ever bestowed upon mankind is Jesus Christ. For Christ is God incarnate. His delight was to be with the children of men. That He might be with them always as their changeless Friend, their inspiring Counsellor, and their great High Priest, He instituted the sacrament of the Real Presence.

In myriad tabernacles scattered among all the countries of the world, the Eucharistic Christ is dwelling among His people. Not only does He dwell among them, but He gives Himself to them for the nourishment of their souls. Jesus Christ, the Son of the Eternal Father, consubstantial with the Father, gives Himself, body and blood, soul and divinity to mortal man in Holy Communion. Through a miracle of divine power, Jesus Christ gives Himself to us for Our Daily Bread.

Here is divine omnipotence emptying itself in the frail bosom of humanity. Here is divine love exhausting itself in the heart of man. Stripping Himself of the outward effulgence of the Godhead that He might not overawe man with His dazzling splendor, Jesus Christ comes under the lowly appearance of the Eucharistic Host to weak and mortal man.

He is our daily bread. Truly, this is God’s supreme gift to man. The mind reels and staggers in trying to conceive how even an infinite God could bestow upon mankind a greater gift.

The tremendous implications of this mighty truth are thus pointed out by Robert Browning:

I say the acknowledgment of God in Christ

Accepted by thy reason, solves for Thee

All questions in the world and out of it.

Christ who cleansed the lepers, restored sight to the blind, healed the sick, pardoned sinners and died on Calvary’s Cross for the redemption of mankind is present in the Eucharist. When Christ appeared to His Apostles in the upper chamber after His resurrection, the doors and windows were closed. Yet Christ stood suddenly in their midst and spoke to them. In that same glorified body which transcends the properties of matter, Christ is present in the sacrament of His love.

The real presence of Christ in the Eucharist stands, therefore, as an antidote for—the vagueness of contemporary thought and as an anchor against the shifting currents of modern uncertainty and doubt. It takes God out of the mists of speculation and brings Him into our very midst to be our Counsellor, our Inspirer and our changeless Friend. In Holy Communion He comes to us as our heavenly manna, the bread of angels and the nutriment for our souls. All who hold steadfast to this central doctrine of historical Christianity will find in it an invincible armour against the assaults of modern unbelief. It is the soldier’s shield against danger and temptation.

THE TEACHING OF CHRIST

Let us glance briefly at the teaching of Christ on this subject. , It is stated with great clearness in the sixth chapter of the Gospel of St. John in the following verses:

“Amen, amen I say unto you : He that believeth in me, bath everlasting life. I am the bread of life. Your fathers did eat manna in the desert, and are dead. This is the bread which cometh down from heaven; that if any man eat of it, he may not die. I am the living bread which came down from heaven. If any man eat of this bread, he shall live for ever; and the bread that I will give, is my flesh, for the life of the world. The Jews therefore strove among themselves, saying : How can this man give us his flesh to eat? Then Jesus said to them: Amen, amen I say unto you : Except you eat the flesh of the Son of man, and drink his blood, you shall not have life in you. He that eateth my flesh, and drinketh my blood, hath everlasting life and I will raise him up in the last day.

“For my flesh is meat indeed : and my blood is drink indeed. He that eateth my flesh and drinketh my blood, abideth in me, and I in him. As the living Father hath sent me, and I live by the Father; so he that eateth me, the same also shall live by me. This is the bread that came down from heaven. Not as your fathers did eat manna, and are dead. He that eateth this bread, shall live for ever. These things he said, teaching in the synagogue, in Capharnaum. Many therefore of his disciples, hearing it, said: This saying is hard, and who can hear it? . . .

“After this many of his disciples went back; and walked no more with him. Then Jesus said to the twelve : Will you also go away? And Simon Peter answered him: Lord, to whom shall we go? thou hast the words of eternal life. And we have believed and have known, that thou art the Christ, the Son of God.”

Christ fulfilled the promise to give them His flesh to eat and His blood to drink at the Last Supper, the night before He died. St. Matthew thus records the fulfillment:”And while they were at supper, Jesus took bread, and blessed and broke and gave to His disciples and said: Take ye and eat. This is my body. And taking the chalice, He gave thanks and gave to them, saying: Drink ye all of this; for this is my blood of the new testament, which shall be shed for many unto remission of sins.”

With the words, “Do ye this in commemoration of me,” Christ authorized and commanded the Apostles and their successors to do the same as He had just done. St. Paul reflects this belief and practice of the Church in the first century, which is the same as that of the Church in the twentieth century, when he writes to the Corinthians: “The chalice of benediction which we bless, is it not the communion of the blood of Christ? and the bread which we break, is it not the partaking of the body of the Lord?” Such then is the clear teaching of Christ concerning the Holy Eucharist-the Sacrament bringing to us His body and blood as our food and nourishment. Such is the belief of the Apostles and of all the members of the Church founded by Christ for more than nineteen hundred years.

“THE WORD OF CHRIST IS SUFFICIENT . .:”

One day a messenger, breathless with haste, burst in upon King Louis IX of France with surprising news. “Your Majesty,” he cried, “hasten to the Church ! A great miracle is occurring there. A priest is saying holy Mass, and after the consecration instead of the host there is visible on the altar Jesus Himself in His human figure. Every body is marvelling at it. Hurry before It disappears.”

To the astonishment of the messenger, the saintly monarch calmly replied: “Let them go to see that miracle who have any doubt regarding the real presence of our Lord in the holy Sacrament. As for me, even if I saw Jesus on the altar in His visible form, and touched Him with my hand, and heard His voice, I should not be more convinced than I now am, that He is present in the consecrated Host. The word of Christ is sufficient for me. I need no miracle.” Such too should be the faith of every believer in Christ. For what greater credential can there be for any Christian than the word of Christ Himself?

We come now to the question : What use are we making of the greatest gift within the power of an Omnipotent God to bestow upon mankind-the real presence of Christ in the Holy Eucharist? We can avail ourselves of this divine benefaction by attending holy Mass and offering in union with the priest the Eucharistic Victim in atonement for our sins, by visiting our Eucharistic King in the tabernacles on our altars, and particularly by receiving our divine Lord in Holy Communion. No devotion is dearer to the Church than that of frequent, even daily Holy Communion. Our Holy Father, Pius XI, encouraged all the faithful to receive frequently this heavenly food. It offers the greatest assistance in living an upright and holy life, and constitutes our sure defense against all the temptations which assail us.

FRUITS OF SACRAMENT

The fruits of this sacrament are manifold. It deepens our sense of the reality of God, makes us conscious of His comradeship, enables us to perceive Him as the witness of our every deed, the auditor of our every word, the spectator of the thoughts and aspirations which stir inarticulately in the silent kingdom of the soul.

CLOSER IS HE THAN BREATHING, NEARER THAN HANDS OR FEET

It thus frees us from the tyranny of the senses with their dependence upon the visible, the tangible, the palpable. It helps us to realize that the most profound realities of life are those which are spiritual and lie beyond the reach of the senses. It enables us to understand what St. Paul meant when he said:”The things which are seen are temporal, but the things which are unseen are eternal.” It prompts us to exclaim with the holy souls of every age: “Ah! Christ, impalpable, I grasp Thee; inapprehensible, I clutch Thee.”

It delivers us from the narrow prison cell of time and place by making us one in spirit with the choice souls of every generation to whom the presence of God is the most abiding reality in life. It enables us to break through the shell of external circumstance and grasp the kernel of spiritual reality which alone gives meaning and significance to human life. This sharpened perception of spiritual realities, this heightened sense of the presence of God constitutes the essential difference between the religious-minded person and the worldling.

While making a pilgrimage to the Holy Land in 1925, I chanced to pass through Smyrna in Asia Minor. It was shortly after the Turks had pillaged and burned the city, and put hundreds to the sword. Still standing among the ruins was a convent. Among the nuns was one from Ireland. “Do you not feel lost,” I asked, “in this out-of-the-way corner of the world, so far from your home in Ireland?” Pointing to the tabernacle she replied: “Father, wherever the Blessed Sacrament is, there I am at home. For there is my Lord and my God.”

How true that is! They are the words which every religious, priest, nun, or lay person can utter. How effectively does the Eucharistic Lord dispel the touch of nostalgia from the heart of the missionary arriving in a foreign land. For where our Lord and our God is, there can be no homesickness. For He is the essential element in every home.

HIDDEN SOURCE OF STRENGTH

I have visited homes in Mexico where sisters, wearing the dress of laywomen, were carrying on the work of Christian education in spite of the government’s prohibition. No religious picture, image or symbol could be displayed. No tabernacle, no altar, no chapel was permitted. Yet in every such home I would be led into a room where hidden away in a bureau, bookcase or other furniture was the Blessed Sacrament. There the sisters repaired to draw strength and courage to continue their uphill fight against the systematic efforts of the revolutionary government to stamp out religion from the land. Take away their garb, their altar, their chapel, their crucifixes and all the external symbols of their faith, but leave them their Eucharistic Lord and King, and you will have left them all that matters.

To that hidden place they go to give themselves Holy Communion, and thus to keep alive in the twentieth century the glorious traditions of the Church of the Catacombs. That which has kept the faith alive in Mexico, in spite of the savage persecution it has suffered is the Holy Eucharist which has been kept in thousands of homes, barns and caves beyond the spying eyes of the minions of the government. The gentle Christ who said,”My delight is to be with the children of men,” is fulfilling His promise and is providing the Catholics of Mexico in the hour of trial, with their hidden source of strength and courage. With their backs to the wall and their faces to the stars, the Eucharistic Christ will hearten them for the combat until they have shown once again to the world the futility of machine guns and firing squads to crush the naked human soul when steeled with a deathless faith.

It is not only to missionaries in distant lands, and to Christians under the fire of persecution, however, that the Holy Eucharist brings strength and intrepidity, but to all lonely and homesick souls. On the day I write these lines a student said to me :”Father, when I came to the University a few weeks ago, I was homesick and lonely. It is so large an institution and it’s my first time away from home for any length of time. But after receiving Holy Communion all feelings of loneliness and homesickness vanished.” He little knew that he was but voicing the experience of every student and of every person away from the warmth of the family fireside and the loving atmosphere of home. It is the experience of every soldier and sailor as well. When Christ comes into our heart, there we are at home-in any city or in any land.

Every one who has felt the warm intimacy of the love of Christ in frequent Holy Communion is able to make his own the words of a contemporary poet

Whoso has felt the Spirit of the Highest

Cannot confound nor doubt Him nor deny:

Yea with one voice, o world, tho’ thou deniest,

Stand thou on that side, for on this am I.

Another fruit of Holy Communion is the strength which it gives to resist temptation and to break any habit of sin previously acquired. There are some who think that frequent Holy Communion should be the exclusive privilege of holy souls far removed from the dangers of sin. Yet the Sacred Congregation of the Council thought otherwise. For in its Decree on Daily Holy Communion the Council expressly declares

“ The desire of Jesus Christ and of the Church that all the faithful should daily approach the sacred banquet is directed chiefly to this end, that the faithful, being united to God by means of the Sacrament, may thence derive strength to resist their sensual passions, to cleanse themselves from the stains of daily faults, and to avoid those graver sins to which human frailty is liable; so that its primary purpose is not that the honour and reverence due to our Lord may be safeguarded, or that the Sacrament may serve as a reward of virtue bestowed on the recipients. Hence the holy Council of Trent calls the Eucharist”the antidote whereby we are delivered from daily faults and preserved from deadly sin.”“

It is therefore needed most of all by those who are weak and are struggling to break the manacles of a sinful habit. It is the supreme remedy against temptation and the most powerful influence in freeing one from a vicious practice. There is no habit, no matter how strong the links in the chain of its practice, which can long resist the sledge-hammer blows of this sacrament. The manacles of sensuality, intoxication, anger, jealousy, greed, all fall into smithereens before the devastating blows of this divine power.

This truth is illustrated by an incident related by St. Philip Neri. As a result of a long life spent in ministering to the youth of Rome, this holy priest was wont to declare that frequent Holy Communion was not only the most efficacious means of safeguarding virtue, but was also the only effective means of breaking the chains of certain habits of sensuality. One day a youth came to his confessional and said:

“ Father, I am bound hand and foot by the chain of a sensual habit which I have tried in vain to break. In spite of all my efforts to reform, I find myself falling again and again. I would do anything if I could but free myself from its galling tyranny which is making my life a living hell.”

“ Do you really wish to break yourself of this habit?” asked St. Philip.

“Father,” replied the youth, “give me any penance and see if I will not gladly do it.”

“All right, then,” said the priest, “I will give you an infallible remedy. You go to daily Holy Communion for a month.

If you should be so unfortunate as to experience a single relapse, which may God avert, I ask you to rush immediately to confession, and then to Holy Communion.”

This the youth did. At the end of the month he was able to say: “Father, for the first time in years I am able to draw the breath of a free man. Not only has daily Holy Communion freed me from this practice, but it has filled me with such revulsion for that vice that I feel confident I will never again stoop to that degradation.”

In the experience of that young man there is mirrored the experience of all mankind, young and old. So true is this that every confessor can say to any penitent groveling in the mire of sensuality, manacled by the chains of an oft-repeated act: “My friend, do you really wish to break this habit? Then if you do, you will go to daily Holy Communion until you have broken this habit. If you are not willing to do this, then you ,are making a mockery of the purpose of amendment. You are lacking in determination and in sincerity.” It is high time for penitents to realize that purpose of amendment means more than a mere moving of the lips. It means the whole-hearted utilization of a remedy of demonstrated effectiveness. In short, it means having recourse to daily Holy Communion.

“BUT NOW I AM STRONG . . .”

During the persecution of the Roman Emperor Diocletian many Christians paid with their life for their faith in Christ. Among the number seized on one occasion were a father and his young son. Brought before the pagan tribunal, the Emperor commanded the father to offer incense to the gods of imperial Rome or pay the penalty with his life.

“ Rather than betray the Faith,” replied the father, “which has been purchased for me at the cost of the precious blood of Jesus Christ, I will die.”

Whereupon he was cast into the arena and there before the howling savage mob he suffered the gladiator’s sword to sever his head from his body, thus sealing with his life’s blood his faith in the crucified Christ.

As the son, a little boy of twelve, witnessed the cruel death inflicted upon his father, he was overcome with horror. His face grew pale with fear. Tears filled his eyes. The Emperor, seeing the terror-stricken condition of the boy, said: . . .”You surely will not do such a foolish thing as your father. Come, offer incense to the gods of Rome and I will not only spare thy life but will give thee anything thy youthful heart will ask.”

The boy had taken a few steps toward the incense pyre when suddenly he stopped spellbound in his tracks. What was that voice he heard echoing in his inner ear? It was the voice of his martyred sire uttering his dying words.

Turning about, he walked quickly over to the spot in the arena where the sand was still crimsoned with the warm lifeblood of his father. He stooped and clenching it in his hand said

“But a few moments ago I was weak and about to yield, but now I am strong with the blood of my father. Rather than deny the faith purchased for me by the blood of Jesus Christ and of my own martyred father, I too will die.”

With a smile lighting up his youthful countenance, and a prayer on his lips, he placed his head upon the swordsman’s block. As the head fell, severed from the body, the blood trickling down in the sand mingled with the warm life-blood of his father. Devout Christians who stood near-by saw in that union a reflection of that other union that took place beyond the skies, where father and son were clasped in the arms of the Master to receive from His hand the glorious crown of martyrdom.

Those words of the martyred youth every communicant can truthfully utter:”A little while ago,” he could say, in ancient Rome are the words which

“I was weak and about to yield. But now I am strong with the blood of my Father and my God. Rather than betray Him by the commission of a deliberate mortal sin, I too would be willing to die.” For in Holy Communion we do not merely clench in our hands sand crimsoned with blood, but we receive into our very hearts the body and blood, the soul and divinity of our Lord and Saviour, Jesus Christ. We become partakers of a divine life and secure a foretaste of that union with Christ in the beatific vision which constitutes the essential happiness of heaven.

NOTRE DAME MEN TESTIFY

While Notre Dame is famous throughout the land for her prowess on the gridiron, where her stalwart sons are adding year after year new lustre to the glorious traditions of Rockne, Gipp, Pilney and the other immortals, she has won still greater laurels” in Catholic eyes for her marvelous success in drawing a vast army of her students to the daily Banquet Table. More than 1,600 daily crowd the Altar railings in the chapels of every hall on the campus. It is the most inspiring sight at Notre Dame.

During the past Fall the writer noticed among the hundreds of others a husky young student hobbling to the altar rail, despite bruises and injuries which made the “going tough.” After football practice and scrimmaging, and injuries to boot, it would have been so easy to sleep through till his eight o‘clock class. But every morning found him at the rail. When the curtain fell upon another unbeaten team at Notre Dame, the name of this young gladiator was upon the rosters of AllAmericans picked by the experts of the land. Who but God will ever know how much of that courage and strength he found at the Banquet Table of the Lord?

In response to the question, what does frequent Holy Communion mean to me? the students tell in their own words:

“ I go to Holy Communion every day because I need God’s help in temptations and because I can do so much good for the Poor Souls. My communions make me feel much nearer God and I can not describe the wonderful feeling that comes over me.”

“Frequent communion gives, first, a peaceful conscience; second, strength against temptation; third; greater power of concentration in studies and in religion.”

“If one starts frequent communion it seems to me that he acquires a grace whereby he wishes to continue. If you miss, it seems one less chance to gain grace and do right.”

“ Since I have begun the practice of daily communion I find myself more careful in my speech. It makes me try to keep from mortal sin; it makes me receive the Holy Eucharist with more fervor; it makes it easier to approach the confessional.”

STILL MORE FRUITS

Among the other fruits of Holy Communion are an increase of sanctifying grace, the remission of venial sins, a strengthening of the will, an increased horror of sin and the remission of the temporal punishment due to sin. Even mortal sin is washed from the soul of the person who unmindful of such an offense receives Holy Communion in good faith. This implies that the communicant have sorrow for all his sins and that if the mortal sin should later come to his mind, he will mention it in his next confession. The reason for this indirect remission of mortal sin through Holy Communion is to be found in the fact that it infuses sanctifying grace into the soul of the person who does not knowingly place an obstacle in the way. But sanctifying grace not only beautifies the soul, but removes any sin, mortal or venial, that may be there. Hence, Holy Communion indirectly remits even mortal sin.

Treating of the efficacy of the sacrament in strengthening the will to resist temptation, the Catechism of the Council of Trent says:”In the holy mysteries is, moreover, such efficacy as to preserve us pure and unhurt from sin and from the assault of temptations, and prepare the soul, as it were, by a heavenly medicine, against the easy approach and infection of virulent and deadly disease . . . It also restrains and represses the lust of the flesh; for whilst it inflames souls more with the fire of charity, it of necessity extinguishes the ardour of concupiscence.” (Part ii, chap. 4, quest. 51.)

St. Thomas Aquinas, the prince of the Church’s theologians, thus sums up the far-reaching effects of Holy Communion “The Sacrament of the Body of the Lord puts the demons to flight, defends us against the incentives to vice and to concupiscence, cleanses the soul from sin, assuages the anger of God, enlightens the understanding to know God, inflames the will and the affections with the love of God, fills the memory with spiritual sweetness, confirms the entire man in good, frees us from eternal death, multiplies the merits of a good life, leads us to our everlasting home, and reanimates the body to eternal life.”

The person who is strengthened to resist temptation is by that very fact heartened to fight more courageously for virtue, honor, right, manliness. One who knows he is free from sin and whose friendship with his Lord and Maker has been deepened and made more intimate through Holy Communion throws himself into his undertakings with greater courage and abandon.

KNUTE ROCKNE ‘S STORY

Knute Rockne, the famed coach at Notre Dame, tells of the deep impression made upon him by witnessing his players arise on the morning of a game and go off to receive Holy Communion. His observant eye could not fail to notice the abandon with which such players threw themselves into the game and fought with the courage of untamed tigers.

Here, in brief, is the way Rockne tells the story:”I used to be deeply impressed at the sight of my players receiving Communion every morning, and finally I made it a point of going to Mass with them on the morning of a game. I realized that it appeared more or less incongruous, when we arrived in town for a game, for the general public to see my boys rushing off to church as soon as they got off the train, while their coach rode to the hotel and took his ease. So, for the sake of appearances, if nothing else, I made it a point to go to church with the boys on the morning of a game.

“One night before a big game in the East, I was nervous and worried about the outcome of the game the next day and was unable to sleep. I tossed and rolled about the bed, and finally decided that I”d get up and dress, then go down to the lobby and sit in a chair alone with my thoughts. It must have been two or three o‘clock in the morning when I arrived in the deserted lobby, so I took a chair and tried to get that football game off my mind by engaging some bellboys in conversation.

“Along about five or six o‘clock in the morning I started pacing the lobby of the hotel when suddenly I ran into two of my players hurrying out. I asked them where they were going at such an hour, although I had a good idea.

“Then I retired to a chair in the corner of the lobby where I couldn’t be seen, but where I could see every one who went in or out of the door. Within the next few minutes, my players kept hurrying out of the door in pairs and groups, and finally when they were about all gone, I got over near the door so I could question the next player who came along. In a minute or two, the last members of the squad hurried out of an elevator and made for the door. I stopped them and asked them if they, too, were going to Mass, and they replied that they were. I decided to go along with them.

“Although they probably didn’t realize it these youngsters were making a powerful impression on me with their piety and devotion, and when I saw all of them walking up to the Communion rail to receive, and realized the several hours” sleep they had sacrificed in order to do this, I understood for the first time what a powerful ally their religion was to those boys in their work on the football field. This was when I really began to see the light; to know what was missing in my life, and, later on, I had the great pleasure of being able to join my boys at the Communion rail.”

REQUIREMENTS FOR DAILY COMMUNION

What are the requirements for daily Communion? In answer to this question, the Sacred Congregation of the Council decreed on December 16, 1905 as follows

“1. Frequent and daily Communion, as a thing most earnestly desired by Christ our Lord and by the Catholic Church, should be open to all the faithful, of whatever rank and condition of life; so that no one who is in the state of grace, and who approaches the holy table with a right and devout disposition, can lawfully be hindered therefrom.

“2. A right disposition consists in this: that he who approaches the holy table should do so, not out of routine, or vainglory, or human respect, but for the purpose of pleasing God, of being more closely united with Him by charity, and of seeking this Divine remedy for his weaknesses and defects.”

From this it is evident that any person who is not certain that he is in the state of mortal sin, and who approaches the holy table for the purpose of nourishing his soul with this heavenly bread, is to be admitted to the sacrament. Mere scruples or doubts are not sufficient to prohibit him. Nothing but the absolute certainty of mortal sin.

Furthermore, it is not necessary for one to go to confession every time one wishes to receive. This would impose some inconvenience on a person and would doubtless deter a number. The Council is explicit in declaring that nothing need keep a person from approaching as often as he wishes, provided only that he is in the state of grace and has the proper disposition. By making daily Holy Communion so easily available, the Church shows her profound solicitude in having the faithful approach with the greatest frequency.

“THE FOOD OF LIFE”

Speaking at the National Eucharistic Congress at New Orleans, Archbishop Cicognani, Apostolic Delegate to the United States, declared:”We call ours a Christian civilization. Now Christian means followers of Christ, and the substance of Christianity is the life of Christ within us, in our thoughts and in our private and public actions. . If such a life is lacking, there remains nothing of Christianity but the name; and this is left to us not as a glory but as a reproach.

“ Our altars are the centre of this life-the centre for the priests who there offer the Eucharistic sacrifice, and there make known the word of God; the centre for the faithful who gathering in the churches before the altar strengthen their souls at the tabernacle. We must not think of the tabernacle simply as a shrine to be visited, nor must we regard the Eucharist merely as a .sacred symbol to be honored. It is a food to be received, it is the food of life, of the Christian life- which therefore ought to be a Eucharistic life, and a Eucharistic life cannot but be an apostolate.”

After pointing out evils which distress him, the Holy Father in his radio address to the Congress said: “May we not discern, however, a promise of better things for the Universal Church in the reflowering among you and among all peoples of Eucharistic love and the daily increase of ardent devotion for the august Sacrament? . . . While we exhort you from our paternal heart to most holy zeal towards the Blessed Sacrament, we fervently pray with you that, strong in youth, your people, who stand forth in wealth and power, may also be a shining example of Catholic faith and Christian virtue.”

Let us now consider some of the objections to frequent and daily Communion.

I DO NOT CONSIDER MYSELF WORTHY TO RECEIVE HOLY COMMUNION OFTEN

This objection is based upon a misconception of the primary purpose of Holy Communion. It is not so much a reward for virtue as it is an antidote for sin. “If you are not worthy to communicate every day,” asks St. Ambrose, “are you more worthy.after abstaining a year from Communion?” The very fact that you feel yourself weak and easily drawn into sin is the very reason why you should receive often. The Church bids you to repeat with the priest before Communion the humble acknowl, edgment : “Lord, I am not worthy.” The longer you abstain from this heavenly food the less worthy do you become to receive, since it is, as the Council of Trent points out, “the antidote whereby we are delivered from daily faults and preserved from deadly sins.”

Paderewski tells us that when he failed to practice on his piano for a single day, he would notice the difference in his playing. When he remained away two days, his wife could notice the difference, three days, his friends could observe it, and when he remained away four days, the whole audience could notice the difference. So too it is with those who are accustomed to keep not their fingers but their hearts and consciences sensitive to the music of divine grace and the warmth of divine love by daily Holy Communion. Each day’s abstention leaves its perceptible effect in dulling the sensitivity of the conscience to the music of divine inspiration and in blunting the delicacy of the love for the Eucharistic Lord.

I AM AFRAID OF LOSING MY RESPECT AND DEVOTION FOR HOLY COMMUNION BY TOO GREAT FAMILIARITY. THE RECEPTION WILL BECOME TOO MUCH OF A MECHANICAL ROUTINE

Loss of devotion will result from improper preparation. But if one prepares devoutly for Holy Communion, frequent reception will deepen the sentiments of reverence and love. Familiarity in the sense of intimacy and union with Christ is not to be deprecated but is the object of all prayer and spiritual exercise. In regard to routine, two kinds are to be distinguished. There is the routine objected to in Rule 2 of the Decree on Daily Holy Communion. This is the purely mechanical reception of the Sacrament with an attitude of irreverence or at least of indifference, in short, with an absence of “a right and devout disposition.” This attitude is the very opposite of the one engendered by frequent Communion when care is taken to prepare properly for this great act by the arousal of sentiments of reverence and love. “They that eat me, shall yet hunger; and they that drink me, shall yet thirst.” This saying of Ecclesiasticus reflects the experience of every devout recipient of frequent Communion.

The second kind of routine is that which is synonymous with habit. In this sense routine indicates a facility of action which is most desirable in regard to all virtuous deeds. Thus it is eminently desirable to make the daily recitation of one’s morning and evening prayers a matter of routine or habit. Hence too it is most desirable to make the devout reception of daily Holy Communion a matter of habitual practice instead of being dependent upon whim or caprice. The whole aim of the spiritual life is to .render the performance of virtuous actions a matter of routine or habit.

I DON’T LIKE GOING TO COMMUNION WITHOUT CONFESSION AND I DON’T HAVE EITHER THE TIME OR THE OPPORTUNITY TO GO TO CONFESSION EACH DAY

The Church teaches that one may receive Holy Communion repeatedly without going to confession, provided of course one is not conscious of any mortal sin. Why then should you insert an action not required by the Pope? The Decree on Daily Communion explicitly states that only two conditions are requisite, namely, the “state of grace” and “a right and devout intention.” It is not the mark of a good Catholic to be more exacting than the Pope. Consequently, one may go to Communion for several weeks if he desires on the one confession.

FREQUENT HOLY COMMUNION IS ALL RIGHT FOR WOMEN AND CHILDREN, BUT IS SOMEWHAT INAPPROPRIATE FOR MEN

With God there is no double standard of morality or piety, one for women and another for men. Prayer and the sacraments are the means of grace alike for men, women and children. Because men are frequently more exposed to temptation than women, there is a correspondingly greater need for this divine antidote to sin. It is a complete misconception of the purpose for which Christ instituted the Holy Eucharist to think that it was meant chiefly for women and children. It is meant for all and especially for those who are exposed to danger. It is their best fortification.

The martyrs who walked out into the arena of the Roman amphitheatre to face the gladiator’s sword, or the savage lions found in the devout reception of the Holy Eucharist the strength which sustained them for their ordeal without faltering. “The strongest among the pure and the purest among the strong,” said Jean Paul Richter, “Christ with His wounded hands lifted empires from their hinges and changed the stream of centuries.” He who bows his head in the frequent reception of this divine manna becomes the strongest, the most manly and the most courageous among men.

When Frederick B. Snite, Jr., was stricken with infantile paralysis while traveling in China, the doctors gave him about a week to live. Years have now elapsed and he is still alive and apparently winning his battle against the dread disease. True, his parents with princely generosity and a devotion that has never faltered have provided him with every help known to medical science.

But this does not explain the secret of his indomitable courage, his buoyancy and his unfailing cheerfulness. If you ask him, he will tell you that it is the Eucharistic food which comes to him each day.

After the malady had paralyzed the muscles used in breathing, it then rendered him unable to utter a single word. The walls of the iron lung closed in upon him, leaving only his head free. Unable to move, unable to breathe by himself, unable to speak. What a plight! Yet in this awful crisis the priest brought to him each day a hidden source of strength and courage. After months elapsed, his father disclosed to me when I visited his son, he regained the power to utter a single word barely audible to those standing near him. It was the single word “God!”-the first word he uttered upon emerging from that breathless and speechless world in which he had been so long imprisoned.

Slowly he regained a little more strength and became able to say a whole phrase. When the priest one morning held aloft the Eucharistic host, preparatory to giving him Holy Communion, there came from his lips as he gazed devoutly at his Eucharistic Lord the scarcely audible ejaculation, “O God! How I thank Thee for this Gift!” Truly is the Holy Eucharist the source of courage, of strength, of manliness. It is the Bread of Angels and the food of heroes.

I DO NOT HAVE SUFFICIENT TIME FOR PROPER PREPARATION FOR HOLY COMMUNION NOR FOR THE THANKSGIVING AFTERWARDS. HENCE, I CANNOT RECEIVE OFTEN

True, there should be due preparation. But does this mean the recitation of many prayers, the performance of many devotional exercises? Not at all. The best preparation for Communion is a good life and the sanctifying of one’s ordinary daily actions. Moreover,”frequent Communion is the best preparation for Communion,” says á Lapide,”one Communion is thanksgiving for another; and the Communion of today is the best preparation for the Communion of tomorrow.” “Therefore,” says St. Alphonsus Liguori,”if you have not time to prepare yourself, in consequence of some good work or some duty of your state, do not abstain from Communion on that account. Only take care to avoid useless conversations and occupations that are not urgent.”

If one is hurried, it will still be possible to make the immediate preparation while going to the Church, and to continue the thanksgiving on the way home. There are two axioms which apply here, namely, “Where there is a will, there is a way,” and “Love will find a way.” The individual who has once experienced the warmth and intimacy of daily union with Christ in Holy Communion will laugh at the trivial excuses which deter the faint-hearted and the indifferent.

WHY SHOULD I START THE PRACTICE OF DAILY COMMUNION WHEN I KNOW THAT I SHALL NOT BE ABLE TO KEEP IT UP?

Even if the practice cannot be continued when one leaves school, or moves to a different location, it will nevertheless be a matter of supreme importance to have fortified one’s character and deepened one’s virtue and piety by having received frequently for even a limited period. The fact is that young people during the plastic days of their youth stand in need of greater spiritual reinforcements than they will after their characters are formed. During adolescence new passions are awakening with them. Their experience is very limited and offers but little help in restraining the forces striving for the mastery. During this crucial period when youth is sculpturing his character for weal or for woe, it is an immense advantage to form the habit of frequent Communion so that he will have the most powerful ally in the world on his side.

There can be no doubt of the successful outcome if youth will employ the most effective antidote for the temptations that press round about him on every side. The habit of frequent Communion will tide him over the critical years of adolescence and plant so deep in his young soul the seeds of piety and virtue that the after-years will bring an abundant harvest. Daily Holy Communion for the youth of every school and college in our land is the ideal placed before us by the Sovereign Pontiff. A ministry of more than a quarter of a century among students at Illinois and at Notre Dame has crystallized in me the unshakeable conviction that the formation of such a habit is the best guarantee of their enduring faith and character and the most valuable contribution we can render to them.

“CHRIST KNOCKS, BUT YOU MUST OPEN”

In the chapel of Keble College, Oxford, there hangs the famous masterpiece, The Light of the World, by Holman Hunt. It depicts the Master standing and knocking at a door upon which vines are growing. The hinges are rusty from long disuse. In His hand He holds a lantern. “Behold”“ He is saying, “I stand at the door, and knock.” When Hunt had finished his painting, he invited his fellow artists to inspect it. They viewed it carefully from his angle and from that. Loud were they in their praise.

“ It is a masterpiece of all time,” they said.

“But,” said one of them, “you have forgotten one thing.”

“What is that?” asked Hunt.

“You have forgotten to place a knob on the door.”

“No,” said Hunt, “I have not forgotten it. I have omitted it purposely. For that is the door of the human heart and it opens only from within.”

Christ may knock. Christ may plead. But it is only we who can admit Him. Christ is standing today before the door of every human heart, pleading for admittance in the Sacrament of His Love. Will you not open it each day and let Him in?

If Catholics but understood how easy and simple it is to receive Holy Communion frequently, even daily, and how fruitful is this practice, the number of frequent communicants would grow by leaps and bounds. Certainly, weekly reception is most easy. We all are obliged to hear Mass on Sunday. Why not arise at the Communion time and walk up to the railing and receive the Source of all goodness and the Author of all holiness? Why not thus receive the maximum fruit of the Eucharistic Sacrifice?

Will you not, dear reader, put aside all vacillation and hesitancy and do your part through frequent Communion in bringing about that Eucharistic renaissance which means so much for the happiness of the individual and the peace and welfare of the world? Let us show the world once and for all by the eloquence of our actions that we believe with a profound and deathless faith the words of our divine Master, Jesus Christ:”My flesh is meat indeed; and my blood is drink indeed . . . He that eateth my flesh and drinketh my blood hath everlasting life: and I will raise him up on the last day.

NihiI Obstat:

REV. T. E. DILLON Censor Librorum

IMPRIMATUR:

@ JOHN FRANCIS NOLL, D. D. Bishop of Fort Wayne

********

Our Father

R. H. J. STEUART, S.J

INDEX

NOTE

The conferences contained in this book were reported in shorthand by Marjorie Muir, an old friend of Fr Steuart’s, during a weekend retreat at the Cenacle Convent, Grayshott, in December 1943. Mrs. Muir is also responsible for the suggestion that they should be made available to a wider circle of readers, and this is now possible through the kindness of the Dominican Fathers who, having brought them out in The Life of the Spirit, have consented to publish them in book form.

Since Fr Steuart gave his retreat on the “Our Father” on more than one occasion, I have been able to collate some records of my own with those which Mrs Muir placed at my disposal. Beyond this it has only been necessary, in preparing them for publication, to eliminate repetition, and some few passages which in print might appear obscure.

KATHARINE KENDALL

PREFACE

CONRAD PEPLER, O.P.

The substance of this retre at on the “Our Father” was given by Fr Steuart several times during the war period, and it was partly due to the difficulties of publishers in those days and partly due to Fr Steuart’s increasing age that the conferences have not hitherto been published. Those who were fortunate enough to hear them often urged him to bring them out in book form and he was prepared to do so had he found the opportunity. As editor of The Ljfe of the Spirit, the writer was approached by some of those who had made the retreat to urge Fr Steuart to publish the conferences in the review; but Fr Steuart declined on the grounds that he had no time to revise his notes and prepare them for the press. It was only after his death that it became possible to publish the conferences, as taken down by Mrs Muir and collated with other listeners” notes, in serial form in The Life of the Spirit. It is from that series that the present book is compiled, as the editor was encouraged by the reception given to them in the review. He was assured of the accuracy of the reproduction of Fr Steuart’s word, but this was scarcely necessary for the style and the doctrine of these pages are characteristic of the author.

Fr Steuart had a rare gift of putting sound, essential teaching in a manner that was witty and lively, so that it became easily intelligible to all his hearers. His written works show that he had studied his theology deeply, but they always avoid technicalities or the unreal approach of those theologians who derive all their knowledge from the study of books. Fr Steuart had the advantage of Scots wit, which he trained not only by serious study but also by a profound life of prayer and by an ever-increasing experience of others” needs. It was this awareness of the reality of Christ’s life in the concrete as found here and now in the members of the Mystical Body that gave his words so much power and enabled each one of his hearers to find in them help and encouragement. His approach was always positive and objective; he was not concerned with sin and evil but rather with God and the gift of grace which draws the sinner from the fetters of his wilfulness and leads him to live the divine life in Christ.

There are some who consider that approach to be too optimistic and so to lead to a laxity which covers the ingrained habits of pride and selfishness with a disguise of piety or mysticism. They argue that the Christian must first become alive to the evil of his ways before he dare think of the love and goodness of God. Such was not Fr Steuart’s view. For him the love of God was the light which revealed the evil in oneself at the same time as it gave the strength and the desire to overcome the obstacles in the way of love. Fr Steuart offered a beacon to lighten the path of those who really intended to approach God closely in prayer. Directing Christians in the life of prayer may be said to have been his speciality, and he gained such success and renown in this work precisely because of his positive instruction and encouragement based on confidence in the divine gift of grace by which a man may be raised eventually to the heights of prayer.

It is fortunate therefore that his conferences on the central Christian prayer, the “Our Father”, were preserved so that posterity may continue to be assisted by their simple and direct teaching on the meaning of our Lord’s words in the prayer that he set upon our lips. May it help many readers as it helped so much those who were lucky enough to hear him.

In the Our Father we have not merely a plan for addressing God, a formula of prayer, but a command: “Thus shalt thou pray”. Prayer is the expression of our attitude towards God. Our Lord says, “This is the way you’ve got to ask God for things-this is the way you’ve got to think of God and address him; the way I wish you to approach him.”

Take the Lord’s Prayer in that sense. “What is God to you?” says our Lord; and he begins “Father”. St Thomas says that we are entitled to take as intended for us every meaning of our Lord’s words and actions which they will legitimately bear. Therefore we must take God as an ideal father. “I am your Father, I want you to think of me as your Father; and not merely to think of me but to know that I am your Father.” Look at a little child and his father; he receives all he has and is from his parents, but quite soon goes on independently of them. But that is not the way between me and God. At no instant of my existence am I independent of God. My existence is the result of God’s will that I should exist. I could not be thinking about it if God wasn’t thinking of me at this very moment. I”m never out of his sight, will, thought. I am utterly dependent on him for every single thing I can give a name to in myself. God goes on giving all the time. He does not cast out gifts as you throw grain to chickens, for some to get a lot and some to get none. Although his gifts pass into my hands, they never leave his hands. Any good thing we can say of creatures we can say in an infinite degree of God.

As a child thinks there is no one more beautiful than his mother or more magnificent than his father, so that is the way we have got to think about God. Who feeds the birds of the air, paints the flowers, gives them their lovely form? God your Father! And if God clothes the fields like this and cares for the little sparrow, what about you? God is my Father to whom, with complete, utter, and absolute confidence I turn, because I know that he has nothing but my happiness in his heart. Like a child, I shed tears because I have not got what I want, and even stamp my foot, but I know this is only a passing thing. I am going to rely on God, never mind what anybody says. “They say”-Who say? Let them say!

The concept of a father, parent, one from whom we receive things, is multiplied infinitely in God. So I want to be thanking God for everything, as if it were happening at this very instant: my very being-not long ago, but now, he is keeping me in existence. I should have an attitude of thankfulness-inexhaustible-for everything. What have we that we have not received-are not receiving? So the first idea of the Lord’s Prayer is the thought of God giving and giving and going on giving.

We call it the “Our Father”, and it seems to bring it closer to us than the title,”The Lord’s Prayer”, although that is good, as it reminds us that God has given it to us. But it is “Our Father” which should create the atmosphere of the immeasurable closeness of God to us. Think what you owe to God: your very existence he is giving you at every moment.

Many people go through life thinking of God as a benevolent being, like a Constitutional Sovereign. No, that is completely off the line. I am as much to God as if I were his only creature. The dependence of the creature on the Creator has no parallel in this life, and you can never understand a thing unless you have something to compare it with. Nothing in this world is dependent as we are dependent on God. Some people are terrified by that and say they feel suffocated! But St John said, “God is love”.

So I must not think of God as an “All” producing these little creatures and going on producing them, but as One who is love. All his acts are love; and it is out of his love for me that he designed me and goes on creating me.

God is simple. In him everything is one in some mysterious way we cannot understand, and therefore everything is involved in that love of his for me. You may say that is reading a lot into God’s title of Father. Our Lord invites us to think of God as Father, in whom we have our being. We have a word for it-Creator: Creation does not mean forming something out of something else, but out of the will of God, and the will of God is the love of God. I am, and everything else is or does because at this instant God wills it to beso. And when I say “why?” the answer is love. Fatherhood implies love; it is the utterance of love, the starting point, the aim of love.

Love has a host of different degrees. It is an expression of will: “I wish this, I prefer that, I love this more than the other”. All these different words we use are degrees of love, meaning that love is the expression of the will. I only exist from instant to instant because from instant to instant (though there is no time with God) God loves me. Since the Incarnation there is specially a bond of love tending towards identification. “With an everlasting love I have loved you.”

“The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom.” But fear must not be taken to mean fear in the craven sense. We are inclined to think we must be afraid of offending God-that God sees our faults and weaknesses more than our good, and that therefore our attitude must be one of always asking forgiveness. But what is the attitude of a really good father and mother? Are they always looking out for faults? “What is he up to now?” No: they think of the good things in their child, take pleasure in him. So God takes pleasure in us. I am an object of delight to God, and he looks on me with a smile, as it were. I know I am dirty, that I have torn my clothes, and my hands are grubby, but God does not look out for that. “My delight is to be with the children of men.” That is what gives me the sort of liberty with God that the saints had.

We know there are bad parents who are always metaphorically slapping their children, who are always correcting them and so on, but we all know too how children can be injured by that sort of nagging. The really good parent does not nag, but gives the most loving explanation of what the child does. The reaction is that they obey their parents more. I am happy in the knowledge that God judges me so lovingly.

“Perfect love casteth out fear”; and therefore God, representing himself as a father, says: “Don’t be afraid of me but trust me to the very limit”. Our Lord says: “Think of him, talk to him as a father; I who am one with the Father tell you that is the right attitude.”

I am giving something to God that he would not have without me. I am giving him his Fatherhood of me. I can say, “You are my Father, therefore I am your child”. I don’t like those prayer books that ask us to look upon ourselves as grains of dust or worms! I cannot at the same time call myself a beloved child of God and a worm. I want to imbue myself with the conviction that God is my loving Father.

People setting out on the spiritual life think what it is going to involve: a long frightening vista of mortification, self-denial, humility, charity. What a labour in the saints! What marvellous perseverance and courage and faith and hope had to be brought into play every instant of their lives; and I am discouraged and say “It can’t be!” One has heard of people saying they wished they did not believe in God because it was a torment to think how perfect they ought to be, and how frightfully difficult it was.

And so, looking forward to growth in holiness, getting closer to God, I always have the idea that the growth is on my part, that I have got to labour for it, and that God is there but I have got to shorten the distance between us. Well, if (instead) I get this idea of God eagerly getting to me, if I think of Christ’s idea of the Father, I know that

God is labouring to get to me; and why he has to labour is because it is I who make the obstacles. “If only you’d “be still” and let me come to you!” one can imagine God saying.

No one ever suggested that the Christian life was an easy one-that sanctity was easy to attain. The “Our Father” shows us the closeness and immeasurable love between us and God-God who loves us as a Father loves his children; who will not let us go; up to the limit of our free wills drawing us. There we have the establishment between God and ourselves of an intimacy such as is feebly paralleled by the relationship between a child and its parents.

Anyhow, our Lord says “Father”, and without any further comment leaves it to us.

WHO ART IN HEAVEN

“Who art in Heaven.” This is a puzzling expression. Where is Heaven, and how can God be fixed in Heaven or any- where at all? In old days people really did think that there was a hard-and-fast place in the universe above us. They thought that the sky was a solid dome, a firmament, and that there was water above and below, and that the water poised above the dome of the sky was allowed to descend. They used the expressions of their day. It is the natural instinct in man to look up to God as if he were poised actually, physically above us.

When we talk of Heaven, the Church does not mean us to believe that God is enthroned in one particular place above. God is everywhere in a sense that cannot be described in terms of our experience. Some writer has said that the existence of God is like a circle: the centre is everywhere, the circumference nowhere. Or take Christ in the Host: he is in it all, in each part; even if it is broken, you don’t break Christ. He is not “in” things in the sense that we are in them-”in” the chapel, for instance. God is everywhere, but men cannot be everywhere. Our being is a totally different being from God’s being. We cannot imagine that state of being, we are not furnished with anything that enables us to understand it. Therefore the words “in Heaven” refer to our relation with God. They imply that he is above; not locally, in measurement, but above us in his nature. Heaven is a state of existence where we shall see God as he is, where we shall be when “the dawn breaks and the shadows flee away”.

So we think of God as above us, one who has to be looked up to; “the raising of the mind and heart to God”. What is this raising up?

The Church teaches as of faith that God made this race of man with a double nature so that we can be raised up to know and see him, without, as it were, arguing from the senses. Our first parents had that, but they lost it. Man could never be simply pure human being again. He’s had it and lost it and there’s a defect in him.

God having once raised the human race to that state when man could see and commune with him, there was left a yearning towards him. We should all find, looking back, periods when we were utterly emptied; an almost physical void, which was our unfallen nature striving to get back to God. Can we then see God directly? Not of our own effort, no; when man lost the high level he lost that which went with it. But it is deep within us now that we are restored to the supernatural life. The faculty was there but it could not be used, it was like an engine without water in the boiler. And then, when through Christ the supernatural level was restored, it began to work again. In saints, contemplatives, the faculty of our first parents began to recover itself. Contemplation is really part of our equipment, so that anyone who achieves sanctity, a heroic level of life, must have this faculty of contemplation.

My point is, however humble and commonplace I may be, there is within me a yearning restlessness-a faculty for this contemplation. God, who has made me for himself, and endowed me, as head of created things, with free will, is trying to raise me up to it with every means short of compelling that free-will. This faculty of entering into direct contact with God is buried within me, not extinct. There is within us, even if we don’t know it, an urge towards God.

Supposing I am beginning to be dimly aware of that? What is my reaction? Prayer, the “lifting up”. The inevitable result is to move me on. In life one finds interests, preoccupations, engrossments-but not for long. We find it all temporary, we can hold on to nothing. Our intellect tells us that, and it is part of my urge to prayer. So when our Lord said, “Our Father who art in heaven”, it was an indication that we should raise ourselves above all that. The whole content of Christ’s teaching is directed to that one object, to teach us how to pray: to bring us into direct relationship with God.

That is what the Apostles meant when they said, “Teach us to pray”. So people who look at prayer as one of the details of the spiritual life are missing the whole point. Rather, spiritual life is one of the details of prayer. That immense apparatus of truth, spiritual aid, the Church, exists in order to put us into contact with God, to bring us to reality. We have to become sick of appearances and want reality, truth.

Children are so direct with God. They have an unspoiled uncorrupted way of speaking to God. Our Lord was, for that reason, so furious at the thought of someone cutting that short, checking it, corrupting or bringing sin into the life of a child. “It would be far better for him that a millstone were hungabout his neck.” Why? -because children are so direct with God. Theirs is a sure, unperverted thrust towards the real which they accept quite naturally. Shades of the prison house begin to close in on the child, new interests, new ways of looking at things, instead of this beautiful unconscious urge towards God. Here were these children going straight to God and somebody has turned them aside.

So we want to speak to God in quite a simple way, and we must let that grow; it must be nourished. The first infantile expression won’t suit us as we develop. Either we must improve upon that or it will die away, and there will be no chance of growth ever. That is why religious education is so necessary. We want to know more about God; there is no knowledge worth anything in comparison with him. However much you want to know other things, by comparison with him they are worthless. Didn’t our Lord say we have got to be as little children, and that God seemed to hide himself from learned people? But all he meant, I think, was a method of approach. The children’s knowledge added to the natural turning towards God has got to be developed according to our human nature, and that brings us to the other form of prayer we call meditation, which is the spiritual method of advancing in my knowledge of God by the use of my intellect.

His goodness-that he loves me-that I ought to, can, love him-what he demands of me: these are things which I must think out for myself. I need this knowledge of God but I don’t know that I need it.

The action of evil spirits is to get us to be satisfied with other things. If we are, you come across withered, unsanctified lives, waiting for-what?

Prayer is the satisfaction of the most urgent instinct we have even though we don’t know it. “Thou has made us for thyself and our hearts are restless till they rest in thee.” I suppose the saints used to wonder how it is that anyone could not realise it.

Prayer is not a luxury. Prayer is not a pious practice. Prayer is not just one of the tools on our bench, so to speak. It is the expression of a right relationship with God. And the fact that very few are conscious of it is our fault. There is in our power this tremendous force of prayer.

The Holy Spirit prays within us. The Patron of prayer is the Holy Spirit. You can’t say that prayer is out of your reach, not your line of country, because you’ve got the Holy Ghost within you.

Therefore, when our Lord said, “Our Father who art in Heaven”, it was that we should raise our minds to him, upwards from the material world in which we are immersed.

HALLOWED BE THY NAME -THY KINGDOM COME-THY WILL BE DONE Hallowed be thy name. Hallowed-a Saxon word meaning “Blessed, honourable, held holy”. May thy name then be blessed: may it be held holy: may it be adored. Our prayer should not be all prayer of petition, all self-regarding; we should have some prayer of adoration, prayer just about God. The book of the Apocalypse gives us a description of this kind of prayer where it says, “And there was silence in heaven for about the space of half-anhour”. Is there enough of this prayer in my life? This is the one thing necessary.

“Be still and know that I am God.”

God commends Mary because she had chosen the better part -silent adoration at her Master’s feet, with her mind full of him. We must realise that the prayer which brings us closest to God is that in which we forget, for the time being, all except God. I should season my prayer every now and again with this, the best form of prayer, just silent adoration; hallowing his holy name, his holiness.

“Adoro te devote, latens deitas.”

We know God most when we know it least. I want God not for something that I want, but for something that he wants, i.e. for himself. I want to aim at so adoring him; to ask nothing for self, but just to know that I am adoring him. God is supremely adorable; God is supremely to be admired, appreciated.

It is so simple to say, “Hallowed be thy name”. Repeat it often. Thus therefore shalt thou pray- thus think of God; just simple adoration. Try it. Think, then stop for a moment. Hold yourself in adoration before God. Say:

“I know that God is my God”, and then stay adoring him. So I pray that God’s will should be done; and his will is that his name should be hallowed.

“Thy kingdom come -that the law of God should be triumphant.

I am to pray for this? -but it is here already, whether I pray for it or not. God is the autocrat, the absolute monarch, our King. God is in every sense absolute, so absolute that we have no words with which to express it. “Thy will be done”-it is done; and yet I am to ask that it may be done. “Thy kingdom come, thy will be done.” Nothing in the ‘Our Father” so accentuates God’s attitude towards us, and ours to him. We pray that he may be recognised as King by us and by all men; we pray that his kingdom may be established, that he should triumph, that he should reign.

Our Lord wants me in this petition to state my desire for the extension of his kingdom; thus I pray that God will make me more and more his real subject. It means that I want God’s will to be done more and more; I want this over and above everything else, no matter what it costs. To live the Christian scheme of life the attitude needed demands heroism. We must keep the ideal before us and work steadily to it; the ideal is that God may reign in your heart. “Not everyone that saith unto me Lord, Lord, shall enter the kingdom of heaven, but he that doeth the will of my Father who is in heaven, he is fit for the kingdom of heaven.’

“Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven.” What is his will? There is no sign, no indication. When I say I want God’s will to be done, I mean I want to know for myself what God’s will is for me. Silence! Utter silence! And yet I have to ask for the grace always to do God’s will. What is his will?

Is there anything in Christ’s life that will enlighten us?

When God became man, what sort of man did he become? Had we been asked beforehand what sort of man he would be, we should have made some magnificent sort of concoction. But God does the infinitely perfect thing: and what did he do? He became an ordinary average man. There is nothing in the Gospels to say that the Holy Family were very poor. I think the whole point is lost if we try to represent Nazareth in that way. Jesus could not be everything. He belonged to one particular class, an artisan. God became man and remained so for thirty years, making no sort of mark or trace on human history. He was God upon earth, living as a man, really man but really God, for thirty years, and no one did anything about it, nothing happened. True God of true God, for thirty years! At the end of thirty years, God the Father spoke from heaven at the baptism by John the Baptist and said, “This is my beloved Son in whom Iam well pleased”.

What was he pleased with? What had God the Son done to satisfy God in this life of his, which was just like everybody else’s life? Well, what did our Lord say? “My meat- that by which I live-is to do the will of him who sent me.” And again, “I do always the things that please him”. It means that nothing in itself is of any value, but all the value of anything and everything is that degree of our will to do his will that it contains. My accomplishments may be distinguished or not; it doesn’t matter, if only I mean to do God’s will.

Christ has shown us that he did the ordinary things of life and did them in that light. There was not a thing that Christ did that did not collate with God’s will, and he was truly man as he was truly God, and therefore it was a real man who was doing it. He was our model.

So here we are, in the Lord’s Prayer, instructed, advised, induced by Christ to aim at and ask from God one thing, namely, devotion to his will, even now in this life, as perfect as it will be in heaven. How am I going to do that? It is so easy to talk! Is there a catch somewhere? It seems to me that that is the real significance of “Thy will be done”- that God should give us grace to want to do his will. If an angel asked you if you wanted God’s will to be done, you would say, “Of course I do!” But do you want it as an artist wants success in his art? Is it a sort of passion with you? That is what our Lord puts before us, to put it above all things. How are we going to arrive at that?

Supposing you want something-say a watch; you have plenty of money and you ask how much it is, but you find it is twice as much as you intended to pay. You don’t want it all that much. You go to a certain length in pursuit of some object, but no further because you don’t want it as much as that. Now, what we pray is that God will give us such a desire to do his will that we will submit to anything for it. “As it is in heaven.” We ought to ask of God as the first thing, before all things, that he will give us grace, that he will inspire us to want what he wants just because he wants it and for no other reason. The difficulty is that we have all sorts of wants and desires, all good ones, maybe, none of them opposed to God. “Holy” comes from the same root as “whole-ly”. A holy person is a complete person, and that is what a saint is, one who is “wholly” given to God. Not that everybody is bound to reach heroic sanctity; but everyone is equipped to be a saint. There is all the apparatus ready.

Behind will is love. Will is the extent of love. I want to go for a walk because I love going for a walk; I want to read or play because I love it. Therefore this adherence of my will to God’s will is simply another way of putting my love of God. I shall never bring myself to an overmastering desire that God’s will should be done by meditating about his omnipotence, power, authority; I can’t attain it that way. Will is a function of love, as sight is to the eyes, and therefore we must begin by loving God. Our Lord gives us as the firstand greatest commandment: “Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with thy whole heart, mind, soul and strength”-with the whole of yourself. That is why you are made as you are made, with all the faculties you have. The end of them all is that you may love God.

So St Paul on charity-caritas-love of God. “Though I speak with the tongues of men, and of angels, and have not charity, I am become as sounding brass or a tinkling cymbal. And if I should have prophecy, and should know all mysteries, and all knowledge, and if I should have all faith, so that I could remove mountains, and have not charity, I am nothing. And if I should distribute all my goods to feed the poor, and if I should deliver my body to be burned, and have not charity, it profiteth me nothing.” I”m making a noise, a blare, a jangle, but that is all, just like someone banging a tin can about. There we are brought up standing with the downright declaration of St Paul, that no matter what you do, nothing is any use to God unless it is the expression of our love of him. We have got to face that fact, there is no getting away from it. So far from being exceptional, it is the first step which is going to give any meaning, value, significance to what we do.

Only through love of God are we going to reach that desire which will overwhelm us, to the exclusion of everything else, that God’s will shall be done. It is within, the reach of us all. If it were not, God would not be just to us.

How is it possible for us to love God before all things? How can I honestly say I am going to? I say, “I love God”, but do I mean it? Perhaps it does not mean “love” in the ordinary sense of the word, but just putting his interests first, and not an emotional love, giving out from the heart? Is there any escape that way? No, because when our Lord said, “Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart”, etc., he added, “Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself”. So it is the same love, and therefore all of us are created for it, and therefore it must be possible for us.

Buthow am I going to say I love God as well as I love my friends? It is not a fair question, because I mustn’t bring God down to earth and compare him with creatures.

What is quite certain is that the more I love God the more I love everything else. God is not another person competing for my love. We’ve all got to love God, and I will add that we all can love God, and we all do love God- more than we know.

We all can. In baptism the three theological virtues are infused into our souls: Faith, Hope, Charity. So because I am baptised I am able, at will, to make an act of love of God which in God’s eyes is really an act of love, even though to me it is accompanied by no emotional reaction.

St Paul said, whatever you do, however noble, is nothing, nothing, nothing, and less than nothing, if the love of God does not lie in you. And he meant the absolute necessity of the love of God.

But then I want to know the love of God-not merely as speculative fact. I don’t believe I shall be able to live a Christian life, to keep that going, merely on the intellectual assurance that I love God. But if I keep on making acts of love-a habit of it-doesn’t it seem reasonably likely that I shall grow to a real sensible love of God?

People pick up things by constant repetition; so shall we. “I love you.” It begins to react and I begin to feel it is more than a few words and I recognise it as a thing essentially my own. I think that we all love God vastly more than we dare to give ourselves credit for. Are you going to tell me that we submit to the discipline of our religion, that we give ourselves endless labour to do things we don’t like-are you going to tell me that you do that simply because of the fear of hell? I think it would be an impossibility. Then why do you do it? If I have the love of God, the desire that his will shall be done, then all things flow from it. It must be a sort of passion.

We have the experience of the saints-the furnace of the love of God. If only I will have faith and trust and persevere in acts of love, it must turn back to myself, flow back into my soul as a warmth, reflecting God’s love into my own consciousness, filling the whole of me, giving me a closer union, a sort of identification with the One loved. This act of the love of God is in the hands of everybody. It is not a sort of museum piece as so many people think. It is in the hands of every little child. If we want to give all we can give, he will make it possible for us to do so.

GIVE US THIS DAY OUR DAILY BREAD

Don’t let us make any mistake: we are ordered to make this prayer of petition. Go to God as to your absolute All- your father, brother, creator. I must turn to him as the lover of souls-as one who loves me beyond the dreams of imagination; who has only one care for me, that the best may be mine; who longs for me. “As the hart panteth” (I am not afraid to put that the other way round) so does God long for me. People complain “I can’t meditate, I can’t pray”. That is often another way of saying “I”m not interested enough”. Is it possible that I have not got enough interest in it? Am I sure that I really want it enough?

I have always maintained that it is a mistake to divide prayer up too sharply into ordinary and extraordinary. Prayer is a continuous thing like a tree-branches, leaves, flowers, fruit; quite different in its different states but all one thing; from the Hail Mary to the tremendous heights of which the great saints have been able to show us just a glimpse. The prayer of the mystic is hidden becauseit belongs to God’s plane of existence, and the words we use about it are like mathematics in ordinary words: it is like using double basic English.

God has planted in our hearts a desire for him as he really is and in this life we shall never attain to that. We ought to be content to know that heaven is at last attaining to that which we have been striving after all our lives through, and prayer is the utterance of that growth upwards. I don’t know if I am going too far if I draw the resemblance to trees like this. Just as there are some trees of red wood, that grow to the height of 300 feet, higher than the tower of Westminster Cathedral, others attain their full growth at 20 feet, and they are perfect trees. The redwood tree is not more a tree, nor the others less. So, looking back, we find persons who have risen to perfect heights, and others who have attained nothing like that and yet who have used all the powers in them.

“Thus therefore shall ye pray.” The main thing in this clause is to ask; God want s us to ask him for everything. Daily bread means all the things I want, big and little, material and spiritual. Every time I make a prayer of petition, it is an act of adoration of God, it is an act of faith that he is answering it even though this does not appear to be so. “Give us this day our daily bread.” The implication is that by saying that to God, I make an act of faith that all my daily bread, everything I need, all come from God; not as if God were a department handing things out, but because each of us is to him as if there were no other.

So the first meaning of that clause is that you are to look upon everything as coming from God. Life will go on according to fixed lines, but I must try to see that everything is handed to me by the very hand of God himself. So when I pray the prayer of petition, I am implicitly making an act of faith that everything, whatever it is, comes from God. And another act of faith, more difficult perhaps, that everything that comes from him is good. He could not give us anything that was not good. Many people find it difficult to believe that everything that comes from him is good- they even seem able to prove that it is not good!

Our Lord said in ordinary language, “Ask and ye shall receive; knock and it shall be opened to you”. You often find you ask for things and don’t receive them and say, “I could be quite prepared for “No” if I asked for frivolous things, but many of the things I have asked for appeared to be very good, and still “No” was the answer. Perhaps I could bear up if it were only myself that was concerned, but so often I pray for others, make intercession, and they don’t get it so far as one sees”. When I ask for a material object I am exercising faith in God, hope and trust, because I believe that he can and I believe that he will, which means that I believe there is a bond of love between us. Every time I pray for an object I exercise those three theological virtues of faith, hope and charity. What more do you want? You may say, “Yes, but I want a little on account! I have prayed for these things.” What things? “This, that and the other.” But I ask you-life is too serious to be encumbered with these frivolities. I have prayed for more money, good weather, and so on, but add them all together and what did they add up to? There is only one thing necessary. There was Martha in and out of the kitchen; all very good; Martha getting that dinner ready. Eventually she asked what Mary was doing beside our Lord, and Martha said, “Look what I have to do, and there is Mary, my own sister who usually helps me, letting me get on with it”. But he said, “Martha, you are busy about many things; Mary has chosen the better part”. The better part: adoration of Christ, love of Christ, love of God. So I think the greater part of our petitions we shall find were trivialities and we should perhaps have thought less of God had he granted them. Things that seemed so urgent to us at the time.

We are taken out of our depth when we are involved in something which demands knowledge of God. Our hesitation and doubt and unhappiness about unanswered prayer is due to our trying to express something in terms of everyday things which is really something known to God alone. “My just man liveth by faith.” “Without faith it is impossible to serve God.” You cannot live up to what he demands of you except purely upon faith.

So often the things we think are good are not good, or not good at that particular time, or someone else has stronger claims to them. Our Lord said, “Give us this day our daily bread”, after he had said, “Thy will be done”. Therefore in all prayer, certainly in the prayer of petition, that is the keystone of it, that ultimately my prayer in essence should be, “Thy will be done”. Very often I don’t think of that at all. I want it, or someone else wants it. I should try to accustom myself to ask myself whether my petition, whatever form it takes, really is “Thy will be done as it is in heaven”. Whatever else there may be to make my prayer an exceptionally good one, it may be that it does not square with that fundamental “Thy will be done”.

Then again, perhaps we have not enough faith. If you had as much as a pinhead of real faith, God would be in your hands, so to speak: you could move mountains.

One of our Lord’s statements was: “Whatever you ask for in my name shall be granted”. The Church takes up this word of our Lord and ends all her liturgical prayers with per Dominum nostrum Jesum Christum. When our Lord says “in my name”, he means us to understand “in my context”, i.e. “live your lives as I lived mine”. Just in the proportion that you are Christ-like, so shall you receive, for then your prayer is real, and you have a claim on God. Is your life like Christ’s? -in other words, does your life run on Christ’s principles? Take Christ’s example in the agony in the garden. Remember, he made a petition, he asked for a thing. Now, he could not ask for anything except what was best: there was nothing selfish or narrow in his request. “Father, let this chalice pass from me; nevertheless, not my will, but yours.” Well, his request was not granted, so I am in good company. “Thy will be done.” It does not make it easy. Sometimes it makes it more difficult. All that matters is that in my heart of hearts I want God’s will, and God’s will only, to be done.

I know a lot of people will say, “I am still worried”. I know you are, because you are trying to explain in terms of earthly experience something that belongs to the divine region. Every time I make a petition to God, every time I turn to God, on that very account, whether my prayer has been granted or not, what has really been granted is that on account of that prayer I am nearer to God, dearer to God, and holier, because I have done that thing that was laid down.

Christianity is a heroic religion. It is not a religion of the world; it is purely supernatural, and therefore we shall be called on as routine to do things that involve heroism to a certain extent. We ought to be much happier on the subject of granted or not granted prayer ofpetition, as that is not the real gist of the matter. Petition that I want God’s will to be done more and more is the real gist of the matter. Our asking is a token that that is what we feel.

“Why are ye fearful, 0 ye of little faith?” . . .”Bid me come to thee upon the waters.” Our Lord says, “Come!” We must learn the tremendous degree of faith he wants of us, for we have not yet that complete faith which sticks at nothing at all.

God binds himself, he pledges himself to us by his own divine word, that hewon’t let us starve for grace. He will give us all that is necessary; for the spiritual life is, like the natural life, a growth. We don’t get fruit from the root, but from the grown branches. Saints are not ready-made. Turn to God, our Lord tells us; turn to him for everything that is necessary for your spiritual life, for your natural life. You cannot ask too much. Recall M. Dupont’s query to a petitioner who was making long phrases to God in her prayer. “Do you want to be cured? Then say, “Cure me!” God is your father, so be more childlike in your approach to him. If you don’t ask, you won’t receive. If what you ask is good for you, if it is right for you to have it, then God will give it when you ask him; you will get it. He is a loving father. But ifI ask for things that seem best to me and I do not get them, then I have just to say, “I am mistaken; God sees it is not good for me”. God sees and knows: trust him.

So it is not very long, I think, before anybody to whom God is a reality uses prayer of petition; we are told to.

Even the highest contemplatives and mystics used it, though their form might be different from other people’s. True, my prayer will tend to become less and less selfregarding and more and more something for God. “My delight is tobe with the children of men.” God made us for himself. I am only truly fulfilling the object of my creation when I am trying to achieve, even in this life, some degree of that complete surrender to God of which the next life will consist.

FORGIVE US OUR TRESPASSES

“By this shall all men know you are my disciples, if you have love one for another.” Such was our Lord’s last exhortation to his disciples. He insists on mutual charity, love; because when we put that into practice it brings all the rest in its train. Charity is patient, kind, charity envieth not; it calls for forgiveness of trespasses, offences, debts. “Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive them that trespass against us” gives the “Our Father” a touch of meaning quite different from our ordinary language. To what do I commit myself when I say this? I acknowledge that I am a sinner: “All we like sheep have gone astray”; like silly sheep. The gates are open, but do we go through them? No! We are stupid, silly sheep gone astray, just following our own way. In God’s eyes we are all like sheep, more stupid than fierce; we are silly, selfish, naughty. The Lord is, however, my Shepherd, so I shall not want; I am always needing forgiveness, and I am getting it, but in the proportion in which I forgive others. How can I ask God to be kind and good to me, not to hold things against me, if I am not this to others?

“If you have love one for another.” This was our Lord’s bidding, which was to be the distinguishing mark of his followers. If one does not follow it, or at least try to, one has no title beyond the mere mechanical one to call oneself the follower of Christ, and we know that without Christ we cannot be saved, let alone sanctified; he himself called it the New Commandment, namely, that we love our neighbour as ourself. Christ might have said “by this shall all men know you are my disciples, if you are bold, intrepid, ready to attack error, living at a high level of prayer”, and the rest of it; but he didn’t. He said “if ye have love one for another”. Christ gave a new authority, a new conception, to the law of charity. We judge the world of his day by that which was most representative of it, the Roman civilization; outside that men were lumped together as barbarians and they did not count. St Paul uses strong language on the unnamable vices of the Romans, and he accuses them of being without affection, without mirth, without loyalty. Roman society was utterly devoid of the idea of human charity: because of the way they regarded human relationships, universal charity was quite impossible in their scheme. So this charity is a purely Christian thing-a new thing. When Christianity is neglected men become less kind, less forgiving to each other.

Well, then, every time I acknowledge I am a sinner before God I say, “Forgive me, I am an offender, I have piled up a debt, I can only rely on your great mercy and ask you to forgive me, but I don’t expect any more mercy from you than I have for other people in their sins against me.” Is not that almost a blasphemous thing to say when I think of this person and that and the other I dislike? I have said unkind things about them, or they are nothing to me, as zero; and then I wipe my lips and trudge off and say, “Father, forgive me my trespasses as I forgive them”. I think one of the reasons why our prayers are not answered is that unless our prayers are in accord with the Lord’s prayer they are not heard. Well, if I say “Forgive us our trespasses” I have torpedoed it unless I am trying to forgive others.

Our Lord preached the Sermon on the Mount. If only that sermon could be broadcast all day -published in every weekly; instead of which we call it the Sermon on the Mount and leave it there. Well, among other things he talked about prayer and worship generally, and he said, “You people, when you go to offer your sacrifice, if you remember there is somebody you hate, despise, are contemptuous of, at enmity with, don’t offer that sacrifice-I shall forget you are there. Cast out from your heart all those feelings. Cast outhatred, contempt, dislike, hardness to everybody.” That is what our Lord said, and he was not talking to a lot of monks, nuns, or dons, but to the ordinary people. “Don’t pray if there is anything against charity in your heart, because your prayer will not be heard, your petitions will not be granted, your worship will not be accepted.” We are not machines, but human beings with feelings, so it is not always possible to change the feelings, but at least we can will the good. The effort to try to maintain a high degree of charity to everybody is very pleasing to God.

Again, our Lord was describing the Judgment. He pic tured it as a great Assize, and he said to the blessed, “You are welcome in heaven because you were kind to people, charitable to people”. For when they said, “When did we do it to you?,’ he said, “When you did it to anybody you did it to me”. Then there is his picture of heaven and the lost. The Curé d”Ars used to work himself almost into a state of unconsciousness in horror at the thought of being cursed by God; by God, who is infinite love, who loves me. “Depart from me, ye cursed”-our Lord used those words. Why? What had they done? It was what they had not done. “I was hungry and you did not give me to eat; I was naked and you did not give me an old cast-off piece of clothing. If you had heard my word you would have known where to look for me, in my brethren.” Notice the distinction: people were rewarded for doing good works- damned for not doing positive kind things. Our Lord did not accuse them of being positively cruel, or of harshness, but of not doing positively kind things. Could anything be more emphatic? There is no getting round it; those are the words of one who was able to say: “I and the Father are one”-”Who sees me, sees the Father”.

Charity -the effort to maintain a high standard of kindness in thought, word and deed. Towards whom? Towards everybody; that is the crux. How can I have love for everybody? How can I love the enemies of my country? Does Christ impose such an impossible burden? Yes, that is the ideal-of loving our enemies who oppose us, do harm to us, take violent action against us. We must maintain this ideal; and we must be sorry that sometimes it cannot be literally carried out. If you are emptying a Tommy-gun into someone you don’t say “You don’t know how I love you!” Is the law of love, then, under certain circumstances, suspended? No; for while I must do everything I can to defeat my enemy, I can pray for him. Whatever course of action we have to take against our enemies, however we have to oppose, defeat, even punish them, there always remains at least this, that we should pray for their good.

St Paul says, “He that loveth his brother fulfilleth the law”. Our Lord didn’t come to give us a doctrine that would make us all nice and happy materially; but he said, “Seek first the Kingdom of God and his justice and all these things shall be added unto you”-all these things will fall into place. Yes, but the condition is, “If you will follow me”, and we haven’t followed him, and we are not following him.

Wherever there is love there is God. The expression of love is the most important thing among us; wherever there is kindness, a giving of ourselves, an affectionate service, there is love, and wherever there is love in us there is God in us and we are showing God. It’s my belief that no one can be in hell who, at the moment of his death, whatsoever sort of creature he had been, had in his heart love for somebody, because there is no love outside God.

The name of the devil is “he in whom there is no love”. To be incapable of love- awful! That is why the devils hate God. They swoop down on us when we don’t love one another, for then we are their disciples. There is no love outside God. It may even be a distorted love, but so far as it is genuine love it is a divine thing, and that was not recognized until Christ came to reveal it. It wasonly a disciple of Christ, looking through Christ’s eyes, who was able to say, “God is love”.

Practice of other virtues gives us a great deal of trouble; it is very difficult to be humble; so with all the other virtues. But the genuine effort to be charitable has a peculiar attraction and sweetness of its own. Why? Because you are behaving in God’s manner. The practice of charity gives us a clear vision, a sort of understanding of divine things.

Nothing facilitates prayer and puts it on the right lines and gives one strength to pursue it all the way, like the deliberate cultivation in our lives of universal charity; the effort to be charitable, to see something lovable in everybody-which there is. We are portrait painters, and we often see other people as we paint them, not as they are. The effort to love people is its own reward.

LEAD US NOT INTO TEMPTATION

BUT DELIVER US FROM EVIL

The next clause in the “Our Father” that presents itself is “Lead us not into temptation”. The beginning of the “Our Father” is a prayer, not so much that his will might be done directly as that we may really and truly wish it to be done. I ask to be enlightened, that my will may be strengthened, that I may always want to do “Your will”; I want it as per- fectly as I know I shall want it in heaven.

From “Give us this day our daily bread” onwards, we pray for protection from sin, from the danger of falling away from God. We are so liable to be drawn away by the fascination of trivialities. I ought to want even to deprive myself ofperfectly innocent pleasures in this world if thereby God’s will be better done. And I want, too, to be protected from falling into sin. Why is it that we ask, “Forgive us our trespasses”? Why is it that we make that petition? Because we are aware that since sin came into the world it has spread itself all over the world. As God saw the world he saw that it was good; it is an utterance of himself, and any man not seeing this is absolutely inexcusable. The world was good and was meant to be good, but through that thing which you would think was impossible, sin, the goodness of the world has been perverted, distorted; just as a razor or knife may be perfect, and may yet on account of its keenness be misused, so all the beauties, marvels of the world may be lethal weapons if misused. Sin is, in a way, the misuse of what is good.

St John says: “If any man thinks he is without sin the same deceiveth himself and the truth is not in him”. The sense of sin is one of the greatest forces of sanctification. Why are we sceptical about saints who said they were sinners when they had attained a heroic degree of sanctity? Was it a pose, a mistake, that made them say: “If only the world knew what I am really it would stamp me in the mud”? The saints knew that even the highest human perfection is tainted with sin, just because we are in a world filled with sin.

What is sin? Sin is idolatry -the substitution as the object of my will of something which is not God. “Why did you do that?-Because it appealed to me. Did you know that doing it meant thrusting the will of God aside-at least for the time being?” That is the main difference between mortal sin and venial sin. In mortal sin I deliberately turn aside from God altogether for the sake of the gratification of the thing I want to do. In venial sin it is not so much that I substitute something for God as that I want it with him. The average man will say: “I will not do anything that will make me lose God, but I do want a lot of things besides God so long as I don’t lose him”. But the saint says: “I don’t want anything at all besides God”. “What have I in heaven and besides thee what do I desire upon earth?” Every time I sin, to the extent to which it was a deliberate sin, the whole world is the worse for it; moreover, it is a matter which has been proved over and over again, that constant giving way to sin produces a general deterioration in one’s will towards God. That is why reasonably frequent confession is such a healthy thing, because it is a sort of divine check on that deterioration.

Our Lord’s dealing with the Syrophenician woman teaches us that we are to go to him with our petitions, as a child to a father. Ask what you like, but always ask with submission to God’s Will. Let it be a childlike appeal to a Father: “Don’t let me do things that displease and hurt you-don’t let me get into bad ways-don’t let me be led into temptation”. The time comes in the life of a sinner when self-indulgence is so great that he cannot stop; “Don’t let me get like that, Father”.

This last part of the “Our Father” ought to come very close home to us. We are prone to choose sin; we are prone to choose evil; silly, nasty things even, instead of God. But I don’t want to do anything which is evil before God. I am sorry for all those things thathave been done; that even in a small detail I have preferred something to God: “Let him that thinketh he standeth take heed lest he fall”. And I pray (as he wants me to pray) that God in his mercy will not allow too great a strain to come upon my will, and that he will protect me from evil and the Evil One. Ne permittas me separari a te.

So I implore God not to put too great a strain on me: not to let me get into too difficult a situation. I know that God is merciful and loving; he won’t let the situation be too much for me. That is why I say: “Lead us not into temptation and deliver us from evil”, or, as some translations have it, “from the Evil One”.

However modern we are, it won’t do to forget there is an Evil One. It is not as if two gods, a good and an evil, were contesting for me. No, the devil is a creature as I am, but one entirely perverted to evil, and moreover with powers of expressing himself and various activities in comparison with which ours are like the physical strength of a baby as against a boxer. What chance has a man got against a tiger?

Yet I don’t want you to think of the devil as a gigantic monster prowling round, but as a personal force directed to my harm and nothing else. On the other hand, don’t let us attribute omnipotence to the devil. The devil cannot read our minds; but still he is an extremely dangerous adversary, more dangerous than our own concupiscence. A subtle, entirely spiritual enemy, almost, it seems to us, unlimited in power, a force directed to my destruction. Well, now, is not that “deliver us from evil” absolutely necessary? What can I do about it? 0 God, protect me from this army directed against me. From this thing that “walketh in darkness, and the horror of the night and the arrow that flieth by day”. And the answer? “He has given his angels charge over thee lest thou dash thy foot against a stone.”

PRAYER OF PETITION AND AFTER

Isn’t it pleasing to God that my prayer should be just simply “Thy Will be done”? But our Lord did not only tell us to treat God like a father who will change his mind; he emphasized it by the story of a woman who asked for bread and was refused, and went on asking, and at last, because she went on asking, she got it. Of course God does not change his mind; but there is something in us that corresponds to that. Every time you pray to God for something, you are equivalently asking him to change his mind.

Ask yourselves, would it really be pleasing to a father or mother if their children never asked them for anything? They want to be asked! Otherwise it would seem their children were lacking in affection for them. I expect it is the perpetual burden of mothers” and fathers” lives to be asked again and again. Well! God, your Father, wants to be asked.

It is implied in the name “Father” that we ought to go on asking. “Be instant in prayer.” The prayer of petition is not the only kind of vocal prayer. The Church encourages a great deal of praise and adoration, as for example in the Gloria in Excelsis.

We shall never make any spiritual advance, or grow in harmony with God, except in proportion as we get to know God. Our Lord told us it was for that purpose we were given our minds. The human mind which deals with universals and abstractions is used on all sorts of objects; but first and foremost it is to be used on God, and it is common sense that we must know more about God if we are to have closer dealings with him. How am I going to know more about God? I have got to work for it and apply my mind to it. It sounds rather grim, but actually you can’t help doing it. That perfectly wonderful instrument, the mind, is to be used first of all in getting to know God. We have got the duty of using our minds to get to know him. Now, thinking, comparing, hearing, reading, applying our intellects-that is meditation. Meditation, strictly speaking, is not prayer at all, it is simply thinking, even though we are thinking about God. I must introduce the will into it or I might go on speculating forever without getting any nearer to God. St James said, “The devils believe and tremble”; they get no good out of believing, they advance no nearer to God. Merely working out is nothing without the heart. So we come across that prayer we call Mental Prayer. Mental Prayer is praying with the mind with the help of the will. It means thinking about God in order that I may know more about God and find the means of getting closer and closer to him.

This prayer has almost as many forms as people who practise it. It will bear much analysis, and it is the application of the intellect to something whence information about God may be drawn: the Gospel particularly. The Gospel is the life of our life. It is upon that that the whole of our faith is built. It is the inexhaustible source. But it is not there to pick up like a piece of paper; you have got to masticate it and digest it. And that is done with your mind. “Why did he say that? to what sort ofpersons? for what reason? in what kind of circumstances?” Every word our Lord said was as if he had his eyes on me and nobody else. I invoke the Holy Ghost! I turn my will on; I want to know what he is saying there. I want to know what God means me to getfrom it. I make acts: “Give me grace; give me light, to know what you mean, what you want of me.” That will be the skeleton of my prayer, and it has to have flesh. Memory and imagination can influence my sensitive will.

Eventually I come to a point when I don’t want any more intellectual knowledge about God. My own capacity, though it might be only a thimbleful-my capacity is full. I feel no further urge to know any more about God, but I do feel, now, an urge to know God. I don’t want to have any more information about him: I want him. It is like the desire of the moth for the flame. So that often when I try to think about God, I cannot. This does not necessarily refer to someone who is very far advanced; that would be the devil’s temptation to make us think it is out of our reach. He puts us off attempting things that are well within our power. Be bold! If you dare nothing you’ll do nothing. You don’t need to be a great saint to want this something immeasurably bigger. There is a darkness over everything. I cannot get any nearer to God. All I have is a great desire to get nearer. My sensitive will does not work; so that I feel as if I did not even want God. My imagination will not figure God to me, my mind won’t make anything out of the strange figures it produces. I feel I have lost all taste for God, but what really happens is that I have lost all taste for the substitute for God. Then follow the advice of the Psalmist: “Be still and know that I am thy God.” No imagination is necessary, no activity. It is quite simple; what happens really is this: I have lost my ability to get hold of pictures with my imagination; I have lost the appetite for what used to satisfy me. Somehow or other God gives me grace to recognize my powerlessness, and it is in that stillness that God begins to communicate himself. If I have used my faculties to the extent I can, I will be silent. It is as if God said: “You can never get any further, but there will be movement on my part if there is stillness on yours.” What happens then? Darkness. All my life I could think about God, imagine God, move towards God, and now I can do nothing; yet my desire is greater than ever. He is giving himself to me, only I do not know it. What way is God giving himself to me? In his own way. That is double-Dutch to me, and until I become resistless under it I am in abject darkness, because my faculties are useless now; they have got to the limit of their powers, and what is happening in my soul is God’s method of approach to me; and I do not know anything about God’s method any more than a dog knows about the integral calculus. I have to wait to learn it, and the interval is darkness-like some person brought to the front door of a house; inside it is pitch darkness and he is told to go in, and to go on in the darkness, knowing nothing. Then God gives me a slight release, and I am able to make a little act, of praise, ejaculation. But mostly it is a thoughtless, wordless, almost aimless waiting. This does not mean I am never to make vocal prayers or meditation, say Office, Rosary, read a spiritual book. No, it is only in pure prayer that I have got to be silent, wait for God. I have to be really submissive, in a condition when all faith, hope, and charity seem to be blotted out. But people tell us there is a tiny something left. Something that will not let us go, that is effected within us so that when at the end of our prayer we go about our business, instead of looking back on that halfhour as awfulness, we look back at it with a kind of nostalgia as if something remarkable had happened. What it is we don’t know, because we are not sufficiently harmonized with God to know his way of acting. But we have been drawn a little millimetre nearer. No parent would ever increase or allow suffering in a child longer than needful. So neither does God. There will always in this life be something which my own human nature will find difficult, costly, but that Prayer of Quiet is God’s first beginning-God letting us have him and not merely knowledge about him. And then, St John of the Cross warns us, at the cost of I don’t know what we may go further. But so few people pay the price.

In that Prayer of Quiet there is matter for great thankfulness. For think how you are seeing things -not as you see them but as God sees them. And this is a thing we ought to look for, to expect. No ambition: that punctures it at once; I start wanting only God and He is offering Himself to me. It needs tremendous practice in self-abnegation on the part of the lower nature. But it is not as ifGod bargains with you: “You do so much penance and I”11 give you this union.” Not at all. It is inherent in the nature of things.

Let us concentrate on doing the utmost we can, never thinking “that is all”, but knowing that nothing less than the utmost we can do will suffice; and God will do the rest.

That is the way to our Father-or rather our Father’s way to us.

Nihil Obstat: Hubertus Richards, S.T.L, L.S.S. Censor Deputatus

Imprimatur: E. Morrogh Bernard, Vicar Gen.

Westmonasterii, die 31a Decembris, 1954

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Our Infantile Paralysis

M. M. STANCIOFF

INDEX

“Unless ye be as great big children you shall nowise enter into the kingdom of our modern world. Unless ye remain at a mental stage of perpetual adolescence ye shall be cast into outer darkness where there is nothing but maladjustment and neuroses.” These are the basic texts we live by, and Magna Carta of the education we give our young.

The difference between a child and a man lies in two things: in what it wants and how it wants it; in its interests and its activities. The child is parasitical, acquisitive, wanting to take to itself (to the extent of stuffing it in its mouth) everything it sees. The man is independent, constructive, prepared to give as well as take. When we become men, the Apostle says, we put away childish things. Yet a glance around us shows that we cling to them, and by our example encourage our children to do so. We make a show of infantile eagerness to see a game, and express exaggerated disappointment when we fail to find tickets. Instead, we should be training the children-in whom such eagerness is comprehensible-to curb such manifestations of ecstasy and of regret. Our living habits are those of babyhood. We eat soft food and we drink soft drinks. Milk, the proper food of infants, has become the staple diet of an aging nation, and what was once called the staff of life has become high-grade blotting paper which could sustain no one for very long. Our teeth never encounter a crust and rarely do we bite a fruit, preferring the baby way of drinking it from a bottle. We seldom walk more than a few blocks and are careful to give the children carfare lest they tire their little legs. We ply these babes with pocket money so they may never have to resist the desire for a sweet, for “we know how hard it is not to have what you want,” and we do not appear to know how good it is not to have what you want. We think we are doing our duty by our descendants when we teach them the means to acquire what they want instead of teaching them not to want it. (What far-reaching results such a teaching would have on our industry! For we are indeed a nation of shoppers.) We think that teaching them to be successes, in games, in sex, in business, is all the education they require to be fully equipped grown-ups. We are actually only teaching them new games to play with, fresh toys when the teddy bears and trains get tiresome. Young people are encouraged to be creative with clay and cloth, with paint and plasticine, with every material except the one always available and always free of charge, their own natures. They are given the tools of any craft they have in mind to try their hand at it, but they are not given the instruments of thought their minds could usefully handle. They are thrown a few haphazard ideas to play with which make no more sense of the cosmos than worn out bits of a jigsaw puzzle. So in discouragement they turn their minds away from its God-given purpose of thought and busy their brains with problems of sport or moneymaking.

We encourage our young to live in a world of make-believe because we feel that it is safer than the world of reality. We systematically teach children to live for play and are surprised when in times of crisis they act like children. It is true that “all work and no play makes Jack a dull boy,” but it is equally true that “all play and no work makes John a dumb jerk.” If sports were just a youthful passion, we could willingly condone it, but when we see them become the favorite topic of middle-aged professors and elderly statesmen, when we hear ministers of religion discussing the merits of a halfback or the subtleties of a pitcher, we recognize that theirs is no temporary intrusion into the world of childhood, but a frantic flight from facts.

This is comprehensible enough. The twentieth century has many facts it were pleasanter not to face. We have taken refuge from the things we cannot entirely forget, the wars and the depressions, the concentration camps and torture chambers, in the make-believe world of sports. At a time when honor stands dishonored and fair play is an antiquated notion, we gladly fly to the artificial world of sport where honor and fair play are enduring slogans. In a world where in great part law is lawless and justice just ignored, the rules of the game create a comforting sense of security. Is it any wonder we encourage our children to inhabit a world so much more to our own liking than the world we adults have made? But is there any hope of re-making the real world in a more tolerable pattern if we leave the young in their playworld? They will be called out of it roughly enough one day, so should we not lead them out of it now and help them to grow up?

THEY NEED LIGHT TO GROW

The first requisite for the ripening of the seed is light -that is, in the case of man, a true conception of his function in the universe.

Both in the animal order and the human order the end of puberty is the beginning of maturity. What prevents us from ripening is the underlying idea of our own animality. Maturity means ripeness for a purpose. In the vegetable and animal order it means fitness for physical reproduction. In the human order it not only means fitness for reproduction and the entailed physical responsibilities-nurture and defense of a family. In man or woman it is a fitness for moral responsibilities, for spiritual care, which indicate maturity.

In healthy periods of civilization minority ends with the end of puberty. No matter how unpleasant the world may seem or how little the youth may care to face it, he does so because he is indoctrinated with his obligations to his fellow men and their common Maker. In the past kings took over the reins of government at an age when our boys are as yet ineligible to drive a motor vehicle. In the heyday of the Sorbonne, of Oxford, of Bologne, men were graduated from these universities at an age when our boys are getting ready for their last year in high school. It may be argued that they did not know as much then; and it is true that in the exact sciences there were fewer facts to know. But in philosophy and letters few will deny their superiority nor the clarity of their reasoning and the maturity of their judgment. There were foolish youths then as always, but thought was taken seriously in its own right and not simply as a means to a high-salaried job. The mind was trained in the university and the character was trained in the home or the school and the young people were prepared for the struggles and the stress of life. The schools now have no time for character formation, nor standards of measuring maturity. Only a mature person can judge of maturity and only after a certain amount of all-round personal contact. In crowded schools the busy teachers cannot have enough personal contact to judge them. So intelligence tests are substituted as a basis of assessment. A boy I know, who comes from a literate home, after having dawdled over Latin and having lazed over Greek for a few years, entered a high school and was given the usual intelligence test. His parents, who had suffered from his refusal to work, his rejection of responsibility, and general immaturity of character, were very astonished when they found they were being congratulated on having “the most mature boy in the school, years ahead of his age.” These conclusions had been arrived at on the basis of a wide vocabulary which he had acquired by no effort of his own. If educators do not know what maturity is, how can the student work toward it?

The educators do feel, however, that there is something lacking in their products, so they drag out the hothouse process of education and with it the cherished adolescent atmosphere-as long as possible. This long postponement of living brings, not ripeness, but decay. Responsibilities are so long deferred that the college boy has lost the zest to ponder them. Nor is there any chance he will ever want to unless he is given a good reason for doing so. It is not enough to be able to reproduce ourselves. We must know why we are doing it. If the reason is not good, youth cannot be blamed for running away from reality. Unless we believe that there is “no proportion between the pains of this life and the joy to come” then logically death becomes the one great unpleasantness never to be mentioned, old age a nasty condition of decay to be disguised as well as possible, and only the years of health and beauty are worth living at all. If we look upon ourselves simply as intellectual beasts, then there is no maturity beyond the physiological ripeness of puberty, nor is there a need of any.

THEY NEED PURE AIR

The second requisite for the growth of a seed is pure air. Youth needs the atmosphere of a sound society. The various manifestations of our unsoundness, economic, domestic, educational, have been often enough examined.

Self-evident proof of our unsoundness is the extraordinary rise of insanity in the last thirty or forty years. Either life is worse than it used to be or we are less fit to cope with it. Perhaps we are not teaching the facts of life to the children, or not the right facts. We do teach them something, I admit. They know quite a bit about fetal development and coital incompatibility. But these are only part of facts about parts of life. They are not learning the fundamental facts which have to do with good and evil, courage and cowardice, intellectual honesty and love and fidelity, the need for pain, the dignity of death. They are only learning to avoid learning them-and at this we are excellent teachers. If they don’t succeed in avoiding facts, if life insists on violently embracing them, they develop painful trauma and are incurably maimed. Experiences which used to build character now build mental institutions. Our young people cannot ripen in a society that is unsound. They are immature because our old people are, and our old people dare not grow up because the alternative to childishness is despair.

THEY NEED LOVE

The third requisite for the ripening of the seed is moisture. Love is needed to keep the spirit from drying up, and to nourish its growth.

We hear a great deal about the love we owe our children. Even the intellectual-beast school concedes love to have teleological value. But there are many kinds of love. The love we shower on our children should be of the highest quality, which, like “the quality of mercy is not strained.” It is natural and simple and flows from the heart and not from the mother-craft book. It does not tie children to apron strings nor does it try to appear indifferent to their ventures. It lets them take reasonable risks for it entrusts them to their Mother in Heaven. Thus as they grow in stature they will also grow in courage, in prudence and in grace, with no shadow of mumism or “father complex” to darken their paths. The example of truly mature love between parents is the best anti-toxin to the hysterical love of the magazines and the movies. Living and growing under the wings of such an affection can make straight the paths of the next generation, can keep its feet off the tortuous and thorny way of worldly loves.

But how shall children learn to grow up in homes where their elders envy them their youth? Where mothers try to grow down to their daughters, where paunchy “pops” call themselves “one of the boys,” and white-haired grandmothers bedeck themselves in bridesmaids’ finery and chatter of “we girls.” If the young see around them idolatry of youth, they cannot be expected to renounce any characteristic of that perfect state.

Many parents are infinitely careful to let no breath of authority taint the beautiful big-sister and big-brother relationship with their children. They try so hard just to be boys and girls together lest the young think they are telling them what to do; they keep their own experience out of their way until the youngsters, finding the job of making decisions too big for them, start to shirk it as we are shirking ours. They must know that there is an authority, but a loving one which prefers cooperation to duress. In united families there is co-operation in all things; the children told of difficulties and their help secured. They share in the responsibilities and in the joys of the whole group. A child should feel that everything he does affects the welfare of the group as a whole. Parents who make sacrifices in order that their little boys may have as many ice cream cones as the Jones’ boy are silly. If they think he must have everything, he will think so too and will expect the world to give it to him when they are gone. Parents have plenty of sacrifices to make in serious things. “But the poor child cannot be expected to know that there are more serious things than ice creams . . .” No, of course not-if he is never told. Most parents know, but do not always remember, that it is more important to sacrifice leisure than money, better to have a good game together once in a while than to let your son go much to the movies, that it is more useful to teach him to make things than to give him money to buy them, and to teach him to rely for entertainment as much as possible on his own resources-in general to be independent and selfreliant. “But we do teach our boy to be independent,” cry some parents, “We let him sell papers and help out at the store.” This, however, is usually done to give him a sense of business, and not for any serious motive such as helping with the home expenses. Or it is done in order that the youngster should have more petty cash with which to indulge his whims. That is teaching him what he already knows, to live for himself, not for others. It is not only we who must love our children to the point of unselfishness, but they who must love us, not for our sakes but for theirs, or they will never grow up. And we alone can teach them this.

Another means of keeping close to them, provided we begin early enough, before they can read, is to read interesting books to them, instead of letting them look at the comics while we enjoy our deserved and longed-for book. This habit will form an invaluable link between parent and child. It is a means of touching on serious topics which never come up in the ordinary course of talk. It will open doors which nothing else can unlock and a subtle means of help and guidance. It is all the more necessary because of the horizontal division of the country’s humanity into age groups which does so much to prevent a true exchange of ideas between generations. This arbitrary division is, perhaps, more than any other single factor, responsible for the inanity of so much youthful talk-and consequently of youthful thinking as well. Instead of listening to their grandfathers’ friends discussing matters of the moment and talking of serious topics with men of their fathers’ generation, these youths are condemned by convention to spend their leisure listening to the drivel or the eventually wearisome wit of fellow teenagers. It is partly the smallness of modern apartments which breaks up the family group, prevents mixed gatherings of friends and leads to the club-life at the drug store. It is chiefly because parents have lost touch with their children and think they don’t want them around and fly the premises in a panic. Actually, intelligent young people are frequently flattered to find the older people talking to them seriously so parents might find it rewarding to stay and be human. The restriction of social life to contact with persons as ignorant as oneself is certainly fatal to conversation, that is, true conversation, which is an exchange of ideas and experiences and not just small talk. It is equally fatal to mutual development. Nor is the drug store, where so many of these meetings take place, a stimulation for the mind. These youngsters sitting high on their stools, looking over into slops, surrounded by shelves bulging with bubblegum and beauty creams instead of books, fill one with compassion for a generation which has been helped by its elders to grow but not to grow “up.”

THEY NEED GOOD SOIL

The fourth requisite for the ripening of a seed is soil. It doesn’t always have to be a fine loam. Grit and sand and gravel are just as necessary as leaf-mould for most plants. They provide the minerals which give firmness to the stalk and let the roots get a good grip.

It is a truism that boys who have had to struggle since their early youth frequently grow into bigger men than some sheltered youths. Even though they may not be as developed intellectually, their characters have been matured by difficulties and responsibilities for which there is no effective substitute. The generation that grew up in the Depression are for the most part far less childish than their parents or their children. But even those who do not come up the hard way can find plenty of salutary hardness in life if they are trained to face it. Even so apparently small a thing as resistance against group pressure in school, college or office will make a youth into a man. It is very difficult to teach a child the need for this. If we harp on it too much we may make him a hopeless conformist. The pressure of the school group is so strong that the family has to wage constant war to save the child from the casting mould. It is very uncomfortable for child and for parents. The resistance is easier to induce in large families where there is an opposite-group pressure. It is easier still if several like-minded families live in the same neighbourhood, send their children to the same school. Every family that resists the conventional foolishness makes it that much easier for others. But this being “different” is never easy, and with some children it is not possible at all. But let us not be scared by the trauma we hear so much about. Wounds are natural to man and he must learn to heal. Without some cuts and bruises no lad ever developed strong muscles or sound bones or lived to reach maturity.

WHY DON’T CATHOLICS MATURE?

We have seen that human development follows the same lines as that of plants, requiring the light of a clear belief, the atmosphere of a healthy society, an affectionate home life which is like life-giving water, and the soil of hardship and difficulty in order to attain fruition.

Now why is it that so many Catholic boys are permanent adolescents? Their religion gives them a true conception of their function in the cosmos, they were raised for the most part in unbroken homes, lived in a Catholic atmosphere and did not entirely escape difficulties. What then is lacking?

We Catholics are trying to “pass.” We are not prepared to live our religion in all its implications of prayer and pen ance and poverty. Perhaps it is because these things seem un-Australian, even a little psychopathic, and because we think we must be successes-like everyone else-in order to advertise God. We want to “pass,” want to be all things to all men, so we pass away without having been very much to any man or anything much to God.

We teach our young Catholics the ways and means of being as indistinguishable as possible from the herd. On Sundays and days of obligation they sidle out from the bunch and go sheepishly to church. On Fridays they avoid meat, and they even avoid bad movies if they can. But wherever there is no specific interdiction, wherever it is a question of character rather than commandment, they happily follow the herd. When our children are small they must wear the same type of shirt as the rest, when adolescent they must kiss the same type of girl. Some Catholic boys take their religious instruction seriously enough to have qualms about kissing, but dare not brave opinion by taking a girl out without kissing her or going out in a group of avowed non-kissers, so preferto sink their “difference” in spirits or in beer. The fear of lechery explains a great deal of the drinking amongst Catholic boys. If fornication can only be fought with drunkenness there is something wrong with the way our religion is being taught. Too many Catholic institutions teach a watered-down Catholicism which stimulates no one to the heroism necessary for everyday life. Christ’s disciples were so filled with the Holy Ghost that observers thought them drunk though it was early in the morning. The Holy Spirit is indeed such a stimulant that no other spirits are required. Obviously those boys have not been kept close enough to the Holy Ghost to feel the tongues of fire or they wouldn’t be falling back on the passing warmth of alcohol.

And since there is a certain light that lighteth every man that cometh into the world, the fraud of watered-down religion is in the long run detected by the young. Those who do not drown their disappointment at life in drink, deaden it with business or wear it down with exercise, and some as we know, give up either their religion or their sanity.

I once asked a priest who had taught for many years in a high-grade Catholic college why so many of the young people they graduated were lamentably childish, why the vast majority seemed incapable of self-government or even of serious discussion. He said sadly that a large proportion of the teachers were of the same mental age as their pupils. The faculty members had so long simulated an exclusive interest in sports, had so long eschewed serious subjects, had tried so hard to speak the language of youth, that this had become their only tongue-spoken even amongst themselves. It is not with the gift of such a tongue that the Holy Ghost endows His faithful, nor will it suffice to communicate the glory of God. Once when I said to a young priest who had spoken very familiar, loving words about God: “Father, it’s good to hear you talk like that. Most of the priests I know do not,” he answered, “We can’t often do so, even among priests; at the seminary the conversation was almost always about something else . . .” and his voice was full of sorrow.

Youth, therefore, eternal youth is everyone’s ideal. It is the cult not only of the ignorant, but of the instructed, since most of these believe only in the here-and-now and those who believe in more dare not behave as if they did. The educators of various schools are satisfied to get more and more expensive kindergarten equipment for the establishments where they condition the young for this playful world. Clerics of diverse faiths are satisfied to improve playroom facilities for their flocks and let them substitute generosity of purse for generosity of heart and mind; letting them relax thereafter in the pharisaical conviction that they have done their share.

Until this attitude changes our young will not. It is not without significance that the one genuine myth creation of the twentieth century is the figure of the child who refused to grow up, the boy who escaped into a private dreamland in order to avoid being a man. Peter Pan, coupling the name of the Apostle with the name of the faun, the animal all-god of antiquity, is a valid symbol of our time. A vestigial Christianity grafted upon an antique survival with the Faith drained out of both, is a true summary of our civilization. The imaginary pipes lead us in our scamper back to the happy dreamland of nursery thoughts from which we shall soon be awakened with an iron sound.

********

Our Lady of Fatima

REV. BERNARD O’CONNOR

INDEX

PART 1

APPARITIONS AT FATIMA

In centuries past the barren uplands around the little village of Fatima, which is one hundred miles by road north of Lisbon, had seen several of the great battles in which Portugal had won its freedom from the tyranny of the Moors and the overlordship of the Spanish. Those conflicts had long passed and had been forgotten, while scarcely an echo of the Great War then devastating half Europe had reached the ears of the simple peasant folk eking out a precarious livelihood from the poor soil of these hills, in the year 1917.

THE THREE CHILDREN

On May 13, 1917, three peasant children of that countryside were driving their little flock of sheep to pasture. They passed the few houses of the village, and, after some questioning among themselves, they chose to go along the northern road to the field which was owned by the father of one of them, Lucia dos Santos. Lucia was the eldest of the party. She was ten years of age, and with her were her two cousins, Jacinta and Francisco Marto. Jacinta, the youngest, was seven. Like Lucia, she was barefooted and dressed in poor clothing of the peasantry, with long skirts, and a shawl thrown over her head. Francisco, the man of the party, was a sturdy lad of nine, with long trousers, short jacket, and a woollen cap. He carried his horn slung over his shoulder, and his staff in his hand.

AT COVA DA IRIA

The pasture the children chose for that day was a shallow depression, on which there was little grass among the many outcrops of stone, and nothing to relieve the eye except a few scattered groups of olives and ever-green oaks. The children walked slowly behind their browsing sheep. Their field was called Cova da Iria. About mid-day they sat down and ate their own poor lunch. Then, according to the custom of the district, they set about the recitation of their daily Rosary. Like many other children, they found the Rosary a long prayer, but they had struck upon an easy method of shortening it. They simply said “Our Father” and no more on the large beads, and “Hail Mary” for the smaller ones. They were soon free to play, and, at Francisco’s suggestion, they were busy on the far side of the field building a house with some of the loose stones lying around.

THE FIRST APPARITION

Suddenly there was a vivid flash of lightning. It came from the clear blue sky. At once the children stopped their play, for sudden thunder storms sometimes swept this district killing the sheep on the exposed fields. They ran to gather their sheep and drive them home quickly. But they were stopped by yet another vivid lightning flash. Terrified, they looked about them. To their amazement they saw to their right a lady of the greatest beauty standing, it seemed, upon one of the low oak trees. She appeared to be a girl of fifteen or sixteen, and was clothed in a long white garment with a white mantle over her hair, and this mantle was edged with a brighter light. She had a golden cord ending in a ball about her neck. Her beautiful face was serious and rather sad. Her hands were joined before her breast, and a rosary of white brilliant beads hung from her right hand. Her feet were partly hidden by the bright cloud which rested upon the tree.

Naturally, the children were astonished and afraid. But the Lady spoke to them kindly: “Have no fear. I will do you no harm.” Reassured by her gentleness and the sweetness of her voice, the children came a little closer. Then Lucia, the eldest, spoke: “Who are you?” she asked. “Where did you come from? What do you want?”

The Lady replied: “I come from heaven! I want you children to come here at this hour, on the 13th of each month, until October. Then I will tell you who I am.”

“You come from heaven! Shall I go there?” asked Lucia.

“Yes,” was the Lady’s reply, “but you must say the Rosary, and say it properly.”

“And Jacinta?”

“She will go, too.”

“And Francisco?”

“Yes, but he must say many Rosaries.”

Lucia made an enquiry about some little friends who had died: the Lady answered her.

Now, the Lady, in her turn, asked: “Are you willing to offer yourselves to God, and to bear all the sufferings He wishes to send you in reparation for the sins whereby He is offended, and as intercession for the conversion of sinners, and to make amends for all the blasphemies and offences committed against the Immaculate Heart of Mary?”

Lucia, answering in the name of all three, expressed their willingness. The Lady added: “You will have much to suffer then, but the grace of God will help you and give you the strength you need.”

Some moments later the Lady recommended them to recite the Rosary devoutly every day, to obtain peace for the world. Then she moved slowly towards the east and heavenwards, and disappeared in the blue vault of the sky. Lucia afterwards explained that all this had happened in the space of about ten minutes.

THE SEQUEL

When the Lady had disappeared the children were left looking at one another in astonishment. They could scarcely believe that it had not been all a dream. But all three had seen her. Francisco had not heard what she had said, but both the girls had caught every word. And Lucia had spoken to her! They got their sheep together and began to move back along the road for home. On the way they decided among themselves not to tell anyone of this strange experience. But the excitement of it all was too much for little Jacinta. That very evening as soon as she met her mother she sought to share the joyful news with her. Her mother questioned her and got the whole story from her. The next day she told Lucia’s parents. Soon it was the common gossip of the village.

OPPOSITION

The news was not received kindly by anyone. Everyone was incredulous except the children. Their parents particularly were determined that there should be no further nonsense of that sort. The three children were forbidden to tell such stories or to return to the field of Cova da Iria. However, Lucia was insistent that she must go back to the Lady at Cova on June 13, as she had promised. In desperation, her mother brought her to the parish priest and charged her: “Confess your lie so that the parish priest may tell the people on Sunday, and put an end to the whole affair.” Lucia still persisted: “But, mother mine, how can I say that I did not see what I saw?” The other children were brought along, too. Their pastor was kind to them, but deferred any decision till further evidence was available. While it might be some heavenly visitation, it was possible that it might be a deceit of the devil. Only time would tell. The many arguments and discussions which arose upset Lucia very much, and in the end, on June 12, she told the other children that she would not go with them to the field on the following day. They declared bravely that they were going, since they had promised the Lady. The following morning, June 13, Lucia went across to her cousins’ house and found them praying and crying. “Are you not going to Cova?” she asked them.

“We are afraid to go without you,” was their reply.

“Come, then, I am going!”

THE SECOND APPARITION

On this occasion, June 13, 1917, even though it was marked by special festivities in the village, as it was the feast of its patron, St. Anthony, the children were not alone in the field of Cova. Lucia’s father had gone ahead of the children, anxious no doubt, about the strange trespasser on his land. He was accompanied by sixty or seventy others, who had come along out of curiosity. Again it was midday, and the children, dressed in their best for the village feast, knelt in the shade of a large oak, and recited the Rosary devoutly with the people. After the Rosary the crowd noticed Lucia arrange her shawl over her head, “as if going into church,” and turn towards the east. With a gesture of surprise she cried out: “Look, that was a flash of lightning. The Lady is coming.” She rose and ran down to the smaller tree where the Lady had appeared the first time. “Madame,” said Lucia, “you have made me come here, what do you want of me?”

Again the Lady urged the daily recitation of the Rosary, and added: “I want you to learn to read, in order that I may be able to tell you what I want.” Continuing, she confided to Lucia the first secret message, which the child guarded faithfully. In reply to her request to take them all with her to heaven, the Lady said she would take Jacinta and Francis soon, but Lucia would have to remain longer on earth. “Jesus wishes to use you in making me known and loved. He wishes to spread in the world devotion to my Immaculate Heart.”

“Then I shall have to remain alone,” the child asked sadly.

“No, my child . . . I shall never abandon you. My Immaculate Heart will be your refuge and the way which shall bring you to God.”

As the Lady spoke these last words she seemed to be surrounded by a still brighter light than before. In this light, as the Lady opened her hands in a parting gesture, the children saw a vision of a heart, surrounded with thorns.* That was the end of the second vision. The sixty witnesses had not seen the Lady.

Those nearest the tree had heard Lucia’s conversation distinctly, and the Lady’s words, not clearly, but faintly, like the buzzing of a bee. They all had remarked that the bright mid-summer sun had been dimmed in some mysterious fashion for the ten minutes of Lucia’s vision. When they went up to the tree afterwards, out of curiosity, they noticed another strange thing. The upper branches were all bent over towards the east, as if the Lady’s garment had trailed over them as she went away.

THE THIRD APPARITION

Naturally, news of these strange doings in the field of Cova spread rapidly over the countryside. When the children came back on July 13, some five thousand country folk had gathered to witness what they could. Again the apparition came, and the Lady urged again the recitation of the Rosary for the ending of the war. On this occasion, after giving the children a glimpse of the horror of hell, Our Lady confided to Lucia a secret that she was not to reveal to anyone until such time as Our Lady herself would see fit. With her heavenly mother’s permission, Lucia gave this special message to the world when the clouds of the second world conflict were gathering, just twenty-one years later. It was contained in a letter she addressed to the Bishop of Leiria. In the course of this message Our Lady forewarned Lucia that “the world, because of its many crimes, will soon be chastised by war, famine and persecution against the Church and the Holy Father. . . . To prevent it I ask for the consecration of Russia to my Immaculate Heart, and for the Communion of Reparation on the first Saturday of each month. If my requests are heeded Russia will be converted and there shall be peace. Otherwise an impious propaganda will spread its errors through the world raising up wars and persecutions against the Church. Many will be martyred, the Holy Father will have much to suffer; several nations shall be wiped out. . . . The horizon is gloomy but here is a ray of hope-my Immaculate Heart shall triumph in the end.”**

At the conclusion of this vision the lady added: “When reciting the Rosary say after each decade: ‘Oh my Jesus, forgive us our sins, save us from the fire of hell, and lead all souls to heaven, especially those who most need Thy mercy.’ “

On this day Lucia, for the second time, asked the Lady who she was, stating many did not believe. The Lady’s reply was that the children were to come each month as promised, and that in October she would tell them her name, and work a great miracle which would convince all. Again most of the crowd present neither heard nor saw anything, but some of those near the children said that they had heard what Lucia had said. On this occasion, and others, many people declared that they saw a light cloud, like the smoke of incense, surrounding the tree and the children.

* Later the children understood that this was the Immaculate Heart of Mary, wounded by the sins of the world.

**The reader will find on page 23 of this pamphlet, that Pope Pius XII himself fulfilled the request for the consecration of the world to the Immaculate Heart of Mary in October, 1942.

Formal approval of the practice of a series of five Communions of Reparation on the first Saturday of consecutive months, together with the devout recitation of the Rosary and meditation for fifteen minutes on its mysteries was given by the Bishop of Leiria on September 13, 1939, this practice was recommended by the Hierarchy of Australia at their annual meeting, 1948.

WIDESPREAD QUESTIONING; GROWING OPPOSITION

Before the next month had passed the news of these events had spread far and wide throughout Portugal. The secular press was particularly hostile and bitter in its attacks upon the apparitions at Fatima. They were denounced as frauds perpetrated by the priests to establish a Portuguese Lourdes-a miracle and money factory.

Others were content to dismiss them as nothing more than delusions in the minds of the children. The Catholic Press did not defend them. It treated the whole controversy with marked reserve. The Government disapproved strongly of the whole business, and viewed it with alarm. At the time, Portugal was controlled by the violently irreligious, liberal, anti-clerical party which had brought about the revolution of 1910, which had dethroned the king, and had striven to deny God His right to the loyalty and service of the Portuguese people.

The civil administrator of the district of Fatima lived at Ourem, and was animated with a particularly bitter hatred of religion. After the gathering at Cova on July 13, he summoned the children and their parents to appear before him. While the father of the two younger ones, Francisco and Jacinta, went himself, he refused to take his children with him, as he claimed that they were too young. But Lucia appeared with her father. The administrator tried to get her to reveal the secret, and to promise not to return to the field of Cova again. She was unmoved both by his promises and the threats which followed them.

AUGUST 13, 1917 -DISAPPOINTMENT

On the morning of August 13, the administrator went to the Marto home and saw the children there. After some argument with Lucia’s father, this official finally persuaded the three children to get into his car, saying that he would drive them to Cova. But he immediately drove off with them in the opposite direction, towards his own residence at Ourem. When Lucia protested, he told her that he was taking them to the parish priest at Ourem, and that, with his car, he would still have time to bring them to Cova. However, on arrival at Ourem, he locked them in a room and detained them there for three days, declaring that he would not free them until they revealed the secret. Promises were followed by terrifying threats. Jacinta, the youngest was especially lonely and terrified. She was yearning for her mother. “Don’t cry,” her brother said, trying to pacify her: “Let us offer all this to Jesus for sinners.” To his offering for their trials for the love of God, and for the conversion of sinners, Jacinta added: “And also for the Holy Father, and in reparation for sins committed against the Immaculate Heart of Mary.”

These three unlettered children remained unmoved in face of every questioning and argument. Whether taken together or separately, they always answered in the same way, and maintained the reality of what they had seen or heard, without contradiction worthy of note. Little Jacinta was sometimes puzzled and confused when pressed for details; Francisco had not noticed many of them: Lucia was always clear and definite about every detail of the Lady’s appearance and dress.

Meanwhile, some thousands of people had gathered at Cova da Iria awaiting the children and their vision. Twelve o’clock came and passed, but no children arrived. For a moment a small white cloud seemed to rest on the tree, but it quickly disappeared. The suspense was broken some time later by the arrival of a boy from the village, which was a good mile away, with the message that the children had been arrested by the administrator, and taken to Ourem. The crowd was furious. Many of its members rushed back to Fatima and made a noisy demonstration outside the presbytery. They had got the idea into their heads that their parish priest had a hand in the kidnapping of the children. They were in the mood for murder. The more stable members of the crowd shared the tranquil confidence of Lucia’s mother, who was reported to have said, when she was informed of the administrator’s action: “It’s all right. If they are liars, they deserve it. If they aren’t, Our Lady will protect them.”

THE FOURTH APPARITION

The administrator, not making any headway with the children, finally released them on August 18. The Lady appeared to them the very next day when they were pasturing their sheep. But on this occasion they were not at Cova da Iria, but in the field of Valinhos, close to the village of Fatima. She complained of the ill-treatment that they had suffered. She told them that, as a consequence, the miracle promised for October would not be on such a grand scale. In reply to Lucy’s question regarding offerings which had been left at the Cova, the Lady said that they were to make two litters by which Our Lady of the Rosary would be greatly honoured.*

Once again there was an exhortation to prayer and penance:

“Pray, pray very much, make sacrifices for sinners. Remember that many souls are lost because there is nobody to pray and to make sacrifices for them.”

THE FIFTH APPARITION

As the weeks passed, the news of the happenings at Fatima had spread further and further. The official action of the administrator had excited widespread comment. The tide of popular feeling was running strongly in favour of the supernatural character of the apparitions. When midday approached on September 13, it was calculated that the crowd gathered at Cova numbered more than twenty-five thousand. A wave of emotion swept over the crowd when Lucia, kneeling expectantly near the tree of the apparitions, told them to kneel and pray. In a few moments she cried: “She is coming!”

While the crowd did not see the vision, many of them, of different ages and education, declared that they saw a globe of light coming from the east to the west in the clear sky. The apparition again lasted about ten minutes. The Lady asked the children to continue saying the Rosary for the ending of the war. She urged them to come without fail on October 13, and promised that on that day she would appear, accompanied by St. Joseph and the Child Jesus. At the end, Lucia cried aloud: “She is going away now.” At the same moment a little child in the crowd exclaimed: “There it is again!” pointing to the luminous globe which crossed the sky slowly and disappeared.

THE SIXTH APPARITION

By the time October 13 came around, Fatima and the events there were being discussed all over Portugal. Everyone who possibly could made his way to the little village, expecting either to see the end of the business in the failure of the promised miracle to appear, or to be a witness of a special intervention of God. While many good people were nervous and anxious, the children were steadfast in their confidence, that the Lady would not disappoint them. Before dark on the evening of October 12 a great crowd had already arrived at Cova. In spite of a continuous drizzle of rain, the crowd grew through the night. As noon approached on the next day, October 13, the number present was estimated at about seventy thousand people. The children came along just before midday. About noon they began to say their Rosary, as was their custom. Suddenly Lucia cried out: “She is coming. Kneel down everybody.” Her mother, too, spoke up: “Take a good look, child. Don’t make any mistake.” But there was no mistake. While the people, for the moment, neither saw nor heard anything, the children saw their beautiful Lady more radiant and beautiful than ever. Francisco said her face was brighter than the sun. Lucia, for her part, recalling the Lady’s promise that she would tell them who she was on this occasion, asked once more: “Who are you, and what do you want?”

THE MESSAGE OF FATIMA

“I AM THE LADY OF THE ROSARY, AND I HAVE COME TO WARN THE FAITHFUL TO AMEND THEIR LIVES AND ASK PARDON FOR THEIR SINS. THEY MUST NOT CONTINUE TO OFFEND OUR LORD- ALREADY SO DEEPLY OFFENDED. THEY MUST SAY THE ROSARY.”

She added that she wished a chapel to be built in the Cova to the honour of the Lady of the Rosary, and that, if people but amend their lives, the war would end soon. Then Our Lady fulfilled her promise to the children that she would bring with her St. Joseph and the Divine Child. First they saw St. Joseph and Our Lord as a child in his arms standing beside Our Lady. Then Our Lord appeared to them a grown man blessing the people, and Our Lady appeared at His side garbed as the Mother of Sorrows. Finally, Lucia saw Our Lady in a strange brown dress-the habit of Our

* This request has been faithfully carried out. At pilgrimages on the 13th of each month the statue of Our Lady of the Rosary of Fatima is carried through the crowds with great honour. A second statue is being borne around the world and being received with great devotion in the international Pilgrimage of Our Lady of Fatima. It visited Australia 1951.

Lady of Mount Carmel.* Then, as Our Lady was about to go away, she made a movement with her hand towards the sky.

Lucia, following the gesture, cried out: “Look at the sun!”

PART II

THE MIRACLE OF FATIMA

Suddenly the drizzle of rain ceased, and the sun shone out overhead. All eyes looked up, and could gaze on the sun without being dazzled. The sun had the appearance of a plaque of dull silver. The next instant it began to revolve, and throw out great shafts of coloured light-red, yellow, blue and green-which were reflected from the rain clouds, the hills, the rocks, the earth, and on the faces of the crowd. It seemed as if the sun was a giant catherine-wheel, and had been torn from its place in the heavens, and was sweeping down upon the earth. Suddenly this spectacle ceased. But the movement of the sun began a second time. Again the strange lights were given out; again the vast crowd was deeply moved with astonishment and fear. Again the movement of the sun ceased. But after a few moments it was repeated a third and last time. As this heavenly manifestation persisted, great numbers present had been moved to fear some imminent judgment, and had fallen on their knees to pray, making the act of contrition aloud. Just as suddenly as it had begun, this spectacle of the sun “dancing” passed. It had lasted altogether about twelve minutes, and was witnessed by every one of the tens of thousands present, as well as by others more than twenty-five miles away. Accounts of it appeared in the press all over Portugal.

THE CHILDREN OF FATIMA

Following upon the extraordinary events in Cova da Iria the three children to whom Our Lady had appeared, Francisco, Jacinta, and Lucia, were subjected to much embarrassment from the curiosity and, at times, hostility, of those about them. Naturally, they sought strength and consolation in each other’s company, when they often recalled together the great moments of their heavenly favours. They themselves took Our Lady’s messages very much to heart. While still remaining children and enjoying childish games and pastimes, they had many serious conferences together. Thus they determined to comply with Our Lady’s request for sacrifices for the conversion of sinners. They became most devout in reciting the Rosary themselves and had the custom of the family Rosary established in their own homes. They often gave up all or part of their lunches, feeding poor children with them. They undertook practices of penance. But they did not remain together for long. Francisco and Jacinta Marto were victims of the terrible epidemic of influenza which swept over Europe after the war of 1914–1918.

FRANCISCO

Francisco fell ill in December, 1918. After two weeks in bed he appeared sufficiently recovered to get up, and after a time paid one more visit to the field of Cova. It was his last, for he had a relapse. When the parish priest was called, he found the boy very ill. He hastened to finish his instructions for First Communion. The child was overjoyed when his pastor brought Our Lord to him on April 3, 1919. It was his first and last Communion, for he died the next day. He had not reached his eleventh birthday.

JACINTA

When Francisco was dying Jacinta lay ill in the next room. Hearing that her brother could not live much longer, Jacinta sent him this message: “Give my loving thoughts to Our Lord and to Our Lady; tell them that I am ready to suffer all that they wish, in order to convert sinners and to make reparation to the Immaculate Heart of Mary.” Both she and Lucia were deeply moved at Francisco’s death. Her own illness ran a longer and more painful course. She had to be removed from her home to the hospital at Ourem, but after two months she was brought back, no better. While ill

* It is now generally understood that in this triple vision Our Lady would impress more deeply on our minds the title of Our Lady of the Rosary by recalling in the three successive scenes the three sets of mysteries of the Redemption, Joyful, Sorrowful, Glorious, upon which we are to meditate when we say the Rosary. at home she sent for Lucia and confided to her that Our Lady had come to her again and had told her that she would join Francisco in heaven soon, but that she would have to go to hospital again and suffer much. She was to offer her sufferings for the conversion of sinners, in reparation for sins against the Immaculate Heart of Mary and for the love of Jesus.

It happened that a Lisbon specialist who came to Fatima soon afterwards saw the sick child, and suggested that she be brought to the capital for an operation. This was done, but it left her in great pain. She told a poor woman of the city who visited her that Our Lady had come to her once more and told her the day and the hour of her death. Four days later she asked for the last Sacraments. The parish priest heard her confession, but, in spite of her insistence, did not give her Holy Viaticum, as he did not consider that she was in danger of death that night. But within three hours she was dead. It was February 20, 1920. Jacinta was ten years old.

THEIR GRAVE

The bodies of these two children, brother and sister, who saw Our Lady at Fatima were buried side by side in the special tomb prepared for them by the Bishop of Leiria in the little cemetery of Fatima.*

Their epitaph reads:

“Here rest the mortal remains of Francisco and Jacinta,

“To whom Our Lady appeared.”

Their immortal souls must surely be sharing the eternal bliss of the saints, with Mary their Mother, in the beatific vision.

LUCIA

Lucia, the eldest of the three children who received Our Lady’s favours at Fatima, had most to suffer. She was subjected to constant questioning wherever she went. At home, her mother had little sympathy for her. In the village, in church, at school, to which she went to learn to read as Our Lady had asked her, people stared and pointed at her, and whispered about her. Her one consolation was the company of Jacinta and Francisco, but, as we have seen, this was soon taken from her. Then, for her own sake, it was decided that she must leave Fatima. On June 16, 1921, the year after Jacinta’s death, she made her final visit to all that was dear to her-the church, the field of Cova, her homestead and its sheep. After a few hours sleep that night, she rose before dawn and quietly left Fatima. She was accompanied by her mother and a friend. At Leiria she said good-bye to them. It was the end of her childhood.

She went to a school for girls, the Asilo de Vilar, at Porto, which was conducted by the Sisters of St. Dorothy. There she was not to tell anyone who she was, or whence she had come. She was forbidden to speak of the visions at Fatima. She was given a new name, Maria des Dores (Mary of Dolours). Her school days were hard and full of trials, but she gradually came to understand her vocation.

In October, 1926, she left her native land and entered the novitiate of the Sisters of St. Dorothy, at Tuy, Spain. She was clothed with the habit of that institute, and on October 3, 1934, made her final profession. Her name in religion linked her old and new life. It was Mary Lucia of Dolours. She has returned to Fatima once since her leaving home in 1921. It was a week after the solemn ceremonies marking the pilgrimage of thanksgiving, May 20, 1946. Once more she visited her old home and that of her cousins. Once more she retraced her journeyings over the Serra and verified the places of Our Lady’s visits. Her final visit was to the grave of Jacinta and Francisco. She then returned to her convent.

Soon after, her long standing desire was granted. She entered the Carmelite Convent at Coimbra, Portugal, some sixty-two miles from Fatima. Her new name as a Carmelite is Sister Lucia of the Immaculate Heart of Mary.

So Lucia, who not only saw Our Lady at Fatima, but spoke to her, lives the hidden and humble life of an enclosed contemplative, and has disappeared from the sight and notice of the world.

* In April, 1951, their remains were removed to the church built above the Cova.

PART III

THE SHRINE OF FATIMA

While the simple faithful, impressed by the miracle of October 13, 1917, accepted the reality of the apparitions of Our Lady at Fatima and began to make pious pilgrimages to the field of Cova da Iria, the enemies of religion were moved to fury by them. Within a fortnight they held a burlesque procession of Our Lady at Santarem, the capital of the district. The local authorities, far from preventing them, gave them every encouragement. The secular press carried on a campaign of ridicule against the reborn devotion of the people to Our Lady of the Rosary. Many good people, while revolted by the ridicule and scoffing of the unbelievers, were hesitant about the whole affair. Many, nevertheless, came to the Cova on pilgrimage. Pious hands soon erected a rough chapel over the place of the apparitions. As the months went by, the numbers of pilgrims to Fatima multiplied, in spite of many obstacles placed in their way by the government officials. The opposition reached its climax on March 6, 1922, when this chapel was blown up with dynamite. A curious fact recorded by a recent authority is that the bomb which was meant to destroy the remains of the tree of the apparitions was the only one which failed to explode.

THE REAL BEGINNING

Far from ending the devotion of the devout Catholics to Our Lady of Fatima, this outrage only fanned it to greater fervour. The next week the parish priest of Fatima led a pilgrimage of reparation from his church to the field and offered Mass there in the open, near the ruins of the chapel. On May 13 following, there came what was really a spontaneous national pilgrimage of 50,000 people from every part of Portugal. October 13, the same year, saw another gathering of many thousands. Similarly, on May 13, and October 13, 1923, there were great pilgrimages to Fatima. The civil authorities did all they could to prevent these gatherings, but in vain.

THE ATTITUDE OF THE CHURCH

As we have already seen, the parish priest of Fatima was slow to move in the matter of the reports of the strange happenings at the field of Cova da Iria. He went to the field for the first time on the occasion of the last apparition and miracle of October 13, 1917. He immediately brought the whole matter officially to the notice of the Church authorities at Lisbon. Then he was instructed by his superiors to make a careful investigation into the facts and collect all evidence available. He was given the assistance of a neighbouring pastor in this work. While the latter completed his report in two weeks, it was not until eighteen months later, in April, 1919, that the local parish priest, prudently waiting for the first excitement to subside, submitted his report.

Only after the bomb outrage of March, 1922, did the Bishop of the diocese of Leiria, in which the parish of Fatima was included when this diocese was reconstructed in January, 1918, take any official action. In May, 1922, he set up a Commission to make a thorough enquiry and to sift all the evidence both for and against the supernatural character of the events of Fatima in 1917. After eight years this Commission completed its report, and finally submitted it to the Bishop on April 14, 1930. It was not until he had given it further consideration for six months that finally he gave official canonical recognition to the devotion of Our Lady of the Rosary at Fatima. In a magnificent Pastoral Letter upon the visions at Fatima he gave his formal verdict in these words:

“In consideration of the facts which we have set forth and having heard the reverend consultors of our diocese, humbly invoking the Holy Spirit of God and relying upon the protection of most holy Mary: We deem well:

To declare worthy of credence the visions of the children at Cova da Iria, in the parish of Fatima of this diocese, on the thirteenth day of the months from May to October, 1917; to give official permission for the cult of Our Lady of Fatima.”

GROWTH OF POPULAR DEVOTION

Long before this official recognition of the reality of the visions at Fatima, the Catholic people of Portugal began the series of pilgrimages to Fatima, which are now a feature of their national life. Special reference should be made to the great occasion of May 13, 1938. The Bishops of the country had made their annual retreat together at Fatima. On this day they rededicated their several dioceses to Mary Queen of Heaven and Mediatrix of all graces, and formally thanked her for her special protection of their country in the two preceding years, in which war had reached its very borders, but had not touched it. Nearly half a million people were present on this great occasion. Fifty altars were erected for the celebration of Mass by the hundreds of priests present; over 65,000 people received Holy Communion. During the years which have since passed there has been a steadily increasing pilgrimage to Fatima, and popular interest and devotion has been aroused throughout the whole world by the publication of many accounts of favours granted by Our Lady of the Rosary of Fatima.

THE MIRACULOUS SPRING

A cause of anxiety to the authorities when they discovered the increasing numbers of pilgrims to the Cova was the lack of water. No spring was known to exist within a radius of several miles. However, in 1926 a beginning was made to dig a dam in the centre of the depression to store rain water. Those digging soon came upon rock, and when they began to blast it away water gushed up. It has never failed since. It is now collected in a vast concrete cistern underground and serves the needs of multitudes of pilgrims, and is said to have been a source of healing to the sick.

In 1942 the silver jubilee of the apparitions of Our Lady to the children at Fatima was marked by a series of widespread and fervent religious celebrations. These opened in March, and were closed on October 31, with the historic broadcast by his Holiness Pope Pius XII, in which he bade the people of Portugal to place all their confidence in Mary and reminded them of their great debt of gratitude to her.

THE LESSON OF FATIMA

“I AM THE LADY OF THE ROSARY

I HAVE COME TO WARN THE FAITHFUL TO AMEND THEIR LIVES AND ASK PARDON FOR THEIR

SINS. THEY MUST NOT CONTINUE TO OFFEND OUR LORD -ALREADY SO DEEPLY OFFENDED. THEY MUST SAY THE ROSARY.”

These words of Our Lady addressed to the children of Fatima should ring throughout the whole world. We should endeavour to lead lives of more generous service of God. We must detach our hearts from this world of passing things by penance, self-denial, and raise them to God in prayer.

Since “all the benefits which the Redeemer merited for us are distributed by Mary His Mother, on whose recommendation Her Son, with full accord, pours forth His gifts,” it is fitting that we should approach the throne of grace through Mary. In the recitation of the Rosary we meditate with Mary upon the mysteries of our redemption. This is the reason why the Rosary, well said, has been a source of grace to countless souls of every grade in the Church for centuries. This too, is the reason why Our Lady herself insisted upon its recitation.

Lucia, Jacinta and Francisco took this lesson to heart. May this brief account of Fatima and its message be the means by which others not only may learn of the wonderful events which took place there, but also be led by Our

Lady, as the three children were, to a more perfect service of her Divine Son.

APPENDIX

THE APPARITIONS OF THE ANGEL

It was not until 25 years after the apparitions of Our Lady at Fatima that ecclesiastical authority permitted publication of the fact that the three children to whom Our Lady appeared had been previously favoured with visions of an angel. Lucia, at the time, was eight, and had never learned to read and has but the vaguest idea of time and dates. It was in the summer of 1916, when the three children had the first of the supernatural favours which were to prepare them for some more wonderful things in the following year.

They were pasturing their sheep in a field belonging to the Santos family, not far from the home of Francisco and Jacinta. The time, about midday, when having finished their lunch and their abbreviated midday Rosary, they saw the figure, as it were, of a youth, about fourteen or fifteen, that was dazzling bright like clear crystal in the sunlight.

His greeting reassured them: “Do not be afraid, I am the Angel of Peace. Pray with me.” He knelt, and then bowing his forehead to the ground said:

“My God, I believe, I adore, I hope, and I love Thee! I beg pardon for those who do not believe, nor adore, nor hope, nor love Thee.” Moved by grace the children imitated him, and his words burnt themselves into their memories. When away, unobserved, minding their sheep on the lonely hillsides they often repeated this form of prayer.

A SECOND VISIT

Some months later the same heavenly visitor came a second time. The children were in Lucy’s garden, near the well. This time he told them that “the holy hearts of Jesus and Mary have plans of mercy in regard to you.” He instructed them to “continually offer up prayers and sacrifices.”

A MYSTERIOUS COMMUNION

On the third great occasion, in late September or early October, 1916, this heavenly visitant appeared once more to the children at the foot of the Cabeco hill, the scene of his first coming. They had been repeating the prayer he taught them when once more he stood before them with a chalice in his hands and above it appeared a Host from which drops of blood were flowing. While the chalice remained mysteriously suspended in the air the Angel knelt beside the children and repeated three times with them a prayer of adoration, offering and reparation:

“O Most holy Trinity, Father, Son and Holy Ghost, I adore You with my whole heart and I offer You the most precious Body, Blood, Soul and Divinity of Our Lord, Jesus Christ, present in all the tabernacles of the world, in reparation for all the outrages by which He is offended. By the infinite merit of His Most Sacred Heart, through the intercession of the Immaculate Heart of Mary, I pray for the conversion of poor sinners.”

He then gave the Host to Lucia, and the contents of the chalice to Francisco and Jacinta with the words: “Receive the Body and Blood of Jesus Christ, which is horribly outraged by ungrateful men! Repair their sins and console your God.”

DECLARATION

In accordance with the decree of Urban VIII, we declare that in speaking of the events, prodigies and miracles of Fatima, we wish to speak of them in the sense in which Ecclesiastical Authority approved them on October 13, 1930, without desiring in any way to anticipate the decision of the Holy See.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENT

The author acknowledges invaluable assistance from the organizers of the International Pilgrimage of Our Lady of Fatima in the preparation of this seventh edition. June, 1951.

Nihil obstat

P. JONES,

Censor Deputatus.

Imprimatur

@ D. MANNIX,

Archiepiscopus Melboumensis.

********

Our Lady of Lourdes Novena

DANIEL A. LORD, S.J

INDEX

FIRST DAY

“The age of miracles is passed.”

Thus spoke the cynical voice of a doubting age. God had been shouldered out of His universe. There was no place for

Him in the exclusive little system that man had developed to his own complete satisfaction.

Men looked to earth and hoped to make it their heaven.

Women embraced love that was not love and wondered why their hearts were hungry.

There were wars and famine, cruelty and greed, lust and disbelief in God and in man. . . . and heaven and Mary very far away.

Then one lovely day, upon a bare rock in southern France a fair Lady spoke to a child . . . a fountain broke from the barren earth . . . miracles piled on miracles . . and Lourdes was born.

It was Mary’s challenge of faith to a world which had lost faith in her Son. We pray:

THE PRAYER OF OUR LADY OF LOURDES

O God, who by the Immaculate Conception of the Virgin didst prepare a worthy dwelling place for Thy Son, we humbly beseech Thee that we, who celebrate the apparition of the same Blessed Virgin, may obtain health of soul and body through the same Lord Jesus Christ, Thy Son, who livest and reignest with Thee in the unity of the Holy Ghost, God, world without end. Amen.

SECOND DAY

“Out of the mouth of infants and of sucklings thou hast perfected praise.”

“Blessed are the clean of heart, for they shall see God.”

The world around the little Bernadette was an old world and a blind one.

Men knew too much of selfish love to understand the real meaning of love. They hugged money so closely that they had lost their sense of values. Losing faith in mankind, they had thrown away their faith in God. Finding sad and ugly the new earth they had tried to make, they disbelieved in heaven.

But not the little Bernadette. Fresh from her first communion, her rosary her only jewels, surrounded by a poverty that had not lost its faith and by labour that had remembered to offer itself to God, she found the barren rock and saw there the wonderful Lady.

There were stars in the Lady ‘s hair and roses on her feet.

There was a smile on her lips and mercy in her hands.

“I am the Immaculate Conception,” she said, gently.

And Bernadette knelt, as countless multitudes of adorers have knelt ever since then, before the Mother of God come back to bring her Son anew to earth.

Kneeling beside Bernadette, we say:

The Prayer of Our Lady of Lourdes

(recite the prayer from first day)

THIRD DAY

Heaven often seems very far away from earth.

Clouds that roll close to earth are usually dark and threatening. The warm, soft light of the springtime sun is distant and pale

When faith is strong, it yearns for heaven with a yearning that makes heaven seem utterly desirable and too long delayed. When faith is weak, heaven fades away.

Few ages had pushed heaven farther from it than had the age of Bernadette.

God had been told-and none too politely that He had no place in the business or politics or literature of the world. A thousand false religions were too deeply concerned with reforms here and now to care about reform>; that lasted forever,

Then Mary came.

Heaven and earth seemed to unite in her lovely person. Dead for twenty centuries, she was young with eternal youth. If she wore about her head a crown of heaven’s stars, she wore on her feet the roses of earth. She spoke the thoughts of eternity in the language of time. She who had been as creature brought with her the power lent her by the creator,

From heaven itself she came to prove that there is a heaven. She who had listened to Gabriel, messenger of God, became now our glorious messenger from on high. To her we pray:

The Prayer of Our Lady of Lourdes

(recite the prayer from first day)

FOURTH DAY

Always it is found that faith is strong and doubt is weak and fragile.

Doubt is negative and lonely; faith is positive, charged with a great hope that shares itself.

Doubts die, a thousand in a generation. The one true faith is reborn in a million hearts each year of each age. So under the rock of Lourdes faith was reborn in a doubting generation.

They who had not believed the compelling word of Christ believed in signs and wonders.

A fountain that showed no signs of failing burst from the dry earth.

Thousands flocked to see a Lady they could not see and hear words that she spoke only for a little girl. Men found their sight, and children were given the power to walk. Blind souls looked up to see that God does live and life is full of meaning. And unbelievers returned with faith and hope and love.

Faith built upon the rock a mighty basilica and called from across the world unarmed and powerful armies of believers. Mary’s sons and daughters came to love her, their mother in heaven, with a greater love because she had come to earth to find them. Holding her hand, they walked back to her welcoming Son.

At Mary’s feet we say:

The Prayer of Our Lady of Lourdes

(recite the prayer from first day)

FIFTH DAY

Miracles can be of vast importance.

They serve to place the seal of God upon His truth, marking His great teachers as true, stamping as authentic the teachings of Christ and His Church.

Sudden manifestations of God ‘s almost careless gestures of power and authority, miracles jolt men from their trivial preoccupations. The dead rise to life. Eyes born blind are open to full vision. Withered limbs leap and dance.

So it was that the miracles of Lourdes were first miracles that struck the bystanders and brought doubters to their knees.

The ordinary waters of the spring, commonplace by chemical test, could work wonders in sick bodies. The passing of the Blessed Sacrament was like the passing of the divine physician. Men, who though without faith, came to lay their illnesses before a God in whom they did not believe knew His power and rose to acknowledge Him.

Mary had indeed brought to Lourdes her Son, Christ the healer.

And in the miracles that were wrought by her intercession, men and women saw the power of God and believed in His love and providence.

Grateful for the miracles of Lourdes, we say: The Prayer of Our Lady of Lourdes

(recite the prayer from first day)

SIXTH DAY

When Christ lifted to health the palsied body of the paralytic, He first cried,”Thy sins are forgiven thee.” Great as was the miracle by which He raised Lazarus from death, the miracle by which He drove seven devils from the soul of Magdalen and turned the harlot into the woman of pure love and lifelong penance was even greater.

Always those miracles of Lourdes that heal the sick will be the more spectacular. But the miracles that are at the very core of the shrine’s meaning are the miracles that touch the soul.

Cynicism, blind and unfeeling, comes contemptuously prepared to be amused and . . . kneels, open-eyed and believing.

Sin, hugging to its heart the disease that has slain the soul, suddenly knows its fetid death . . . and rises to new life.

Physicians, knowing the limitations of their own powers, bow humbly before the greater power that flows upon sickness here.

And over the world Catholics lift their heads with new pride as their Church in this day is marked with the wonder of God’s intervention and Mary lives to give her suffering children happiness and a return to health.

Knowing the needs of our own souls, we pray:

The Prayer of Our Lady of Lourdes

(recite the prayer from first day)

SEVENTH DAY

Where in all this is the little girl Bernadette?

What happened to her after the Lady had appeared to her for the last time and the world had come to believe in the lady ‘?

God’s ways are strange, and yet they are often of a pattern.

The little girl had known the happiness of looking upon Mary of the Immaculate Conception. Now God closed her away from the world, in a convent.

Her name became Sister Mary Bernard.

Never again did she visit Lourdes, though year after year thousands upon thousands of others came to the spot where she had first seen the fair and wonderful Lady.

With all the splendour of Catholic ritual. the great Basilica, man ‘s artistic tribute to the God who made the beauty of the universe, is opened. Bernadette is not present.

There are no more miracles. No honours come to her. She leads the life of an obscure nun. She does her quiet duties and dies her quiet death. Wisely did God shield her from acclaim and public curiosity to make her a simple saint of His Church.

Only then does God speak again: Through His Church, lie proclaims her a saint, lifting her to the altars.

With Bernadette united to Our Lady in heaven we say:

The Prayer of Our Lady of Lourdes

(recite the prayer from first day)

EIGHTH DAY

Sometimes a single wonder belongs to a single day.

Then it fades and is forgotten.

Not so the wonder that is Lourdes, or the glorious apparition of the lovely Lady of Lourdes. Today and every day since the Lady appeared to Bernadette, miracles mark the presence of God at Lourdes.

Men and women of all the nations walk in procession, lifting their voices to honour God ‘s Mother and to acclaim the humble king who is her son.

In a sort of unity of the human race, the races and colours of the world meet and blend before the shrine of mankind’s one universal Mother, and find one brotherhood in the brotherhood of her Son.

Mary still smiles from the grotto of Lourdes.

Christ still walks in Eucharistic procession among His afflicted. He passes among them as truly as he mingled with them in Judea and Galilee, ministering unto them. Mary truly brings her Son back to us.

God is very near His people in the place where His mother smiled upon a little girl and told with children the beads of the Rosary.

With the millions who come to Lourdes we unite to say:

The Prayer of Our Lady of Lourdes

(recite the prayer from first day)

NINTH DAY

It is strange that with all the beautiful buildings in the world one of the most famous and glorious structures should be a rough grotto carved by wind and weather and sanctified by the brief presence of a lovely lady.

Ugly in outline, rough in texture, the grotto of Lourdes has become one of the dearest spots on earth.

Because we cannot always travel to it, we have reproduced it in every city in the world. It is the focal part of convent gardens. It is the dearest meeting place of a great Catholic university. It gathers around it the children in school yards.

The grotto of Lourdes has found its way into our churches. It stands as the chief ornament in many a great basilica.

In miniature it is the lovely little shrine in private rooms, in study halls, in auditoriums, in small chapels, on ships, in camps.

For in that little grotto, that hollowed bit of ugly rock, God again manifested His love for mankind and Mary came to smile upon her children. The roughness of the stone contrasts with the gentleness of the. miracles. The very ugliness of the outline serves to bring into stronger relief the charm of her who is its apparition.

Before the shrine, seen clearly or remembered happily, we kneel to pray:

The Prayer of Our Lady of Lourdes

(recite the prayer from first day)

Nihil Obstat:

JOHN M. FEARNS, S.T.D

Imprimatur:

@ Francis Cardinal Spellman Archbishop, New York.

********

Our Lady’s Assumption

DANIEL A. LORD, S. J

INDEX

THE year is 451 A.D. The place is the city of Chalcedon in Asia Minor. The occasion is the famous council, to which Christian history turns back respectfully.

All of that seems remote enough from our day and age. Yet it is linked, with that close unity which is Catholic, to the present moment and to a widespread movement that is capturing the attention of the Catholic world.

Into the assembly of the deliberating Fathers walked the Roman Emperor Marcian. His eyes are eager, and he makes of the assembly a surprising request.

“Find for me,” he begs, “the body of God’s Mother It is my imperial desire and determination to build for it a beautiful shrine. Surely thisimmaculate body is the world’s most precious relic and deserves for its monument a mighty basilica. If you will find me the immaculate body of Mary, I will have it sealed in the sacred security of a golden casket and placed under an altar of marble and precious stones. Find for me, I beg of you, reverend Fathers, the body that was once the shrine of the Incarnate Word of God.”

AN UNFULFILLED WISH

There was a childlike simplicity about the request. The assembled Fathers hesitated. They knew where the bodies of Peter and Paul rested in the honoured security of the Vatican. The Cross of Christ, recovered by St. Helena, mother of Constantine, was once more safe in the keeping of the Church. The bones of the martyrs and the virgins slain during the first days of Christianity had been placed in beautiful reliquaries or under the altars of a thousand churches. But no city or cathedral or shrine or reliquary had ever so much as claimed to possess the body of the Mother of God. That was a relic which the Church had never been permitted to possess.

Then arises in the midst of the assembly St. Juvenal, Bishop of Jerusalem. The story that he tells is the simple narrative of what happened after the death of Mary, a story that was handed down in the memory of the Christians of Jerusalem. The assembled Fathers know it well. But we can imagine the Emperor leaning forward and listening with strained and delighted interest.

AN ANCIENT NARRATIVE

The day had come, said St. Juvenal, in substance, when the common doom of all Adam’s children was to fall upon the Mother of God. It had fallen upon her Son; now it was to seek out His Mother. Mary lay upon her bed waiting for death.

Time had touched her with a light hand, for it is sin, not time, that ages and destroys. She was beautiful in her maturity; lovely even in the evening of life.

Moved by a common impulse that was the inspiration of the Holy Spirit, the Apostles, scattered to the far corners of the earth in their apostolate, returned to the death-bed of their Queen. They had clung to her in the terrifying days that followed the death of Christ. . They had delayed fearfully about her in the interval that followed the departure of her Son in the Ascension. They were with her in the vitalising Pentecost when the Holy Ghost came upon them and lifted their timorous spirits to heights of apostolic heroism.

From her dwelling, the Cenacle, they had gone out to their world-wide mission, leaving her in the care of John, her adopted son. But she had always been their Mother and Queen, their strength in sorrow, their inspiration in their apostolate, the bond of their unity with one another and with Christ, their Master and her Son.

MARY DIES

Now, with death near, they re-assembled about her bed, sons reunited about their dying Mother, messengers of Christ hurrying back to be with Christ’s Mother in the last few hours before her soul found its blessed release and escaped joyously into the presence of her Son. What messages they must have entrusted to her who was so soon to see their beloved Master!

Quietly and without agony she died. There were no lamentations about her death-bed. Though the hearts of the

Apostles were torn with grief, as they saw her eyes close in a calm, unbroken sleep, and her merciful hands fold in a final gesture of prayer upon her breast, and, though they realised with a sharp pang that they would never again hear her repeat the story of Christ’s thirty hidden years nor receive her wise counsel and encouragement in their difficult work of world conquest, they could not long be sad.

Without Christ, the world, they knew, had been for Mary an empty place. Even the Eucharistic Presence of her Son was no adequate substitute for His visible presence. She had been, since the Ascension, patiently waiting for her invitation to follow Him into His kingdom, as she had always patiently waited upon all His wishes. And though she had mothered His Apostles and embraced in a Mother’s tenderness all the world for which He had died, she was waiting eagerly and expectantly for death.

REVERENT BURIAL

Now it came, not as the feared conqueror, but as the blessed liberator, and the Apostles were glad for her sake, even though their own loss was bitterly heavy. She died, and, dying, smiled into the eyes of her Son, come to take her safely through the gates of death into His living presence.

Among the Eastern peoples burial follows quickly upon death. So the Apostles, with loving, reverent, if reluctant hands, carried the body of Mary, fair even in death, to the tomb. Her lips still smiled with the final joy of anticipation that flooded her whole being as her soul left her body. Her hands were still clasped in her almost uninterrupted gesture of prayer.

They summoned her friends and relatives, drew the burial garments over her, and mourned and rejoiced. As evening came on, they carried her body to the cool, dark tomb, and, closing the grave, returned to her empty dwelling.

Undoubtedly, during that lovely burial, they remembered, abashed and ashamed, another burial in which they had not participated. She had often told them the details of that tragic procession from Calvary to the tomb of Joseph of Arimathea, and shame had filled their hearts as they thought of the cowardice that had held them captive in dark corners and cellars, while the crucified Christ was borne to His borrowed grave by the hands of strangers.

Perhaps they felt that this reverent burial of His Mother was some slight atonement to Christ for their absence from His burial on Goad Friday.

THOMAS IS AGAIN ABSENT

Characteristically, St. Thomas arrived a day late. Poor Thomas had a way of being absent when important things took place. Yet, hard as it was on him, his way of arriving after an event had happened was a blessed thing for posterity. Because he missed the first glad reunion of the Apostles with the risen Christ, he gave to our Faith one of its firmest arguments. First, he doubted that Christ had risen; then he laid down his own conditions on which he would accept the fact; and, finally, he carried out those conditions when his searching fingers touched the wounds of Christ, and his hand was laid in convincing proof upon the Saviour’s side. To Thomas we can be grateful for a kind of scientific sceptic’s proof of the Resurrection.

Again, he was late when Mary died. But, had he been present at the death and burial of Mary, we might never have known that Mary was assumed from the grave.

Deeply regretting that he had not seen Mary in the calm peace of death, he asked the other Apostles to return with him to the tomb and roll back the stone so that he could, for the last time on earth, see the face that was the maternal counterpart of the face of the Master he had followed in life and was tirelessly preaching in unresponsive India.

AN EMPTY TOMB

The Apostles, who were more than willing to see that sweet face again, led Thomas to the tomb. They rolled back the stone, entered the cool, dark doorway, and then stopped motionless. Perhaps they were really not surprised. Certainly they had no fear that her body was stolen. They must at once have recognised the singular appropriateness of the miracle that copied for the Mother the resurrection of her Son.

For the tomb was empty. Where her body had tested, full-blown flowers were blooming. Through the tomb blew not the slightest breath of death’s corruption. Instead, it was filled with the perfume of flowers, mingled with scents not of earth.

But the body of Mary was gone.

PERFECTLY CLEAN

The Apostles needed no one to explain the miracle. The risen Christ had clearly lifted His Mother from the earth. At His command her soul had rejoined her body, and she was body and soul with her victorious Son in His eternal kingdom.

If the victory of death over the body of Christ was short, its victory over the body that had borne the body of Christ could not be of long duration. Mary had been assumed from earth to heaven.

They knelt, these Apostles, at the empty tomb. They lifted their eyes towards the heavens, which now contained Mother and Son, reunited in the completeness of their personalities. And, when they rose again to their feet, it was to return rejoicing to the Cenacle, happy in the honour that had been paid to Mary, glad that her body was a relic too pure to be housed even in the loftiest shrine of earth.

From that moment on, the Christian world never sought .for the body of Mary. Christians knew that it was reunited with her immaculate soul, and that both were with God.

A SATISFIED EMPEROR

This is the beautiful tradition that St. Juvenal, Bishop of Jerusalem, repeated for the Emperor Marcian as he sat with his fair wife, Pulcheria, among the venerable Fathers of the Council of Chalcedon.

The Emperor bowed his head in quick and approving assent. . That was precisely as it should have been. Why, it could not have been otherwise. He and his Empress looked at each other and smiled their agreement. They rose, and, as they passed through the midst of the Bishops, the last effort had been made, even to so much as consider finding the pure body of God’s Mother upon earth. Eyes sought her gladly and spontaneously in heaven. But the Christians knew that, even were they sure of the place of her tomb, they would find it empty.

AN ANCIENT TRADITION

The tradition of Mary’s Assumption into heaven is lost in the mists that surround the earliest days of the Church. We find great saints of the Eastern Church preaching on the subject at very early dates. St. Andres of Crete, St. John Damascene, and St. Modestus of Jerusalem talked eloquently of Mary’s Assumption in the seventh and eighth centuries. In the West, by which we mean the Europe of today, St. Gregory of Tours spoke of the Assumption as a universally accepted fact, and he lived during the years 539 to 594.

In the Church, as we very well know, the observance of a feast may often precede the wide discussion of a dogma or doctrine. The Apostles and their immediate successors said Mass from the very beginning. Fragments of the prayers they used have come down to us. But theologians discussed the Mass and even invented the name “Mass” at much later dates. In fact, discussions usually arise only when someone has the temerity to deny something that has long been believed or practised.

At first, men use the holy gifts of God gratefully. They accept His revelations and His truths as beautiful and true. They see no particular reason for discussing or cutting into fine argumentative pieces what is clearly beautiful and an intimate part of their life’s best devotion.

FROM THE BEGINNING

So we find the Christian world keeping the Feast of Mary’s Assumption far back in the days when Christians were more interested in loving God than in writing about Him, in showing devotion to Mary than in analysing the reasons why they did so.

Clear records show that in Palestine, from where St. Juvenal brought his beautiful tradition to the Emperor at the Council of Chalcedon, the Feast of the Assumption was observed with solemnity before the year 500. How long before that it was observed, no one knows. Records were carelessly kept in those days, and what records were written were even more easily lost through persecution and the pillage of barbarians.

We do know, however, that feasts did not easily and quickly come into existence. The faithful reluctantly accepted anything new and strange. So, if a feast was fully and widely celebrated by the year 500, we may be sure that its real origin goes back several centuries.

By the year 600 we know that the Feast of the Assumption was celebrated throughout what is now modern France and large parts of Germany. Interestingly, France accepted the feast from the ancient monks of Egypt; so, in all probability, those grand old Egyptian monks, who loved Mary with the buoyant enthusiasm one finds in children and saints, had kept the Feast of the Assumption through long centuries before.

WORLD-WIDE TILL PROTESTANTISM

In fact, every important form of Christianity, schismatic or orthodox, the extensive Greek Catholic Church, quite as much as the Roman Catholic, agreed in admitting the fitness and beauty and truth and antiquity of the belief in Mary’s Assumption by her Son into heaven.

Today, as centuries ago, Roman and Greek Catholics agree in this tradition.

It was left for the Protestants of. the sixteenth century, as their decidedly doubtful privilege, to throw aside the tradition and consign Mary’s body that had tabernacled Christ to the corruption of the grave.

That attitude was not, however, surprising. In fact, it was in part with the whole Protestant revolt. The early Protestant revolutionists, who attacked the Church with any type of weapon at hand, were quite as violent in their attacks upon Mary. The hostility manifested by the sects towards the woman who had loved Christ and served Christ best is something of which modern Protestantism is often deeply ashamed.

By an inconceivable state of mind, the early Protestants demanded that Christ be honoured by dishonouring His Mother.

They claimed that Christ could be raised to new heights by dragging down His Mother to new depths. Protestantism’s rejection of the Assumption was only part of its astonishing rejection of Mary as Mother and Queen. It almost demanded that Christ leave the body of His Mother to worms and the filth of the tomb. Strange, incredible denial of Christ’s grateful heart.

THE VOICE OF THE PEOPLE

But what has all this to do with us of the immediate present?

Saints are often canonised by the voice of the people. Moved by the dear signs of their heroic virtue, the Christian world cries aloud for their canonisation. In ancient days they rushed to the Vatican, summoned forth the Holy Father, and cried: “Give us a saint.” And he would reply: “The voice of the people is the voice of God. You have a saint.”

To-day the persistent cries of the Christian world hastened the canonisation of the Little Flower of Jesus and the Cure d’Ars in much the same fashion. It was almost as if the Holy Father had yielded to the voice of the people demanding a saint.

Somewhat the same thing has occasionally occurred in the case of dogmas. The people, either because they saw their beloved Faith attacked, or perhaps because they were moved by a divine impulse to stress some particular article of Faith, have clamoured that a truth long believed be proclaimed as divinely revealed.

A CLAMOROUS WORLD

An instance of this seems to be taking place about us today. A united Catholic world, suddenly, and apparently spontaneously, begs the Holy Father to proclaim the doctrine of the Assumption of Mary into heaven as an article of faith. From every civilised country petitions signed by millions of names have been sent to the Pope, all begging that Mary be given this signal honour.

The beautiful feast, long observed, with its consoling doctrine, long believed, has rested for centuries in the heart of the Christian world. Catholics have been content to celebrate the day and lovingly cherish their belief. Now they beg that the age-old tradition become a binding dogma.

Certainly so widespread and important a demonstration on the part of the faithful cannot be without deep significance. The Holy Spirit has a way of arousing men’s hearts to a realisation of sharp perils and pressing needs.

Perhaps, as the eyes of the Catholic world are focussed on the Assumption of Mary into heaven, the Holy Spirit is drawing men’s hearts from the insistent claims of time to the almost forgotten claims of eternity. Surely the earth has pressed in upon us with a beauty and charm, a luxury and fascination overpowering in their grip on our senses. Can it be that just at this moment our eyes are lifted to Mary spurning earth and entering heaven, so that, seeing her glory, watching her triumphant passage through death into eternal life, earth may lose much of its power to fascinate and bind us to itself?

Perhaps the Holy Spirit is using the dogma as a way of showing afresh the importance of pure women. Our modern literature has grown often terrifyingly evil. The virtue of women is astoundingly flouted from the screen, the stage, the magazines, the best-seller. Philosophies of loose living have taught young men and women to regard purity as a bit of a joke, and vice as the inevitable pastime of youth. Purity has been considered prudery, and wanton women have found a widespread and quite frightening popularity with the public.

Now, if ever, the world needs Mary. It needs her purity and her sinlessness. It needs to be reminded that for the innocent Mother of God was reserved the glory of the Assumption; that, because her body was so wonderfully pure, it broke the binding chains even of the grave. The vision of the pure Mary, lifted body and soul into heaven, should do much to bring into sharp relief the beauty of purity and the dignity of motherhood, and the importance to the world of women whose lives are moulded on that of the Mother of God.

THE WORLD WAITS

Whatever the reason for this sudden desire on the part of the Catholic world for a definition of the dogma of the Assumption, we may say that Christendom waits almost on tiptoe for the Holy Father to speak.

Perhaps he will not. But whether the petitions be granted or not, the sudden rebirth of interest in the feast and doctrine of the Assumption has given the modern worlda new consciousness of the dignity and splendour of God’s Mother. Men have re-awakened to how much Christ prizes purity and virginity. They feel a new interest in the saintly woman who follows the flower-marked footsteps of Mary. Youth grows reverent before women who are like their Heavenly Mother.

ALMOST INEVITABLE

The Christian world; until the dawn of Protestant doubt and denial, felt that, whatever other traditions might need deep faith and the humble acceptance accorded to mysteries, here was one tradition that simply cried aloud for acceptance. The human heart found the Assumption not only beautiful, but inevitable.

The body of Mary was unique among all the bodies ever formed to house an immortal soul. It was predestined by God to be the first temple of the Incarnate Divinity. It was the first shrine of God made man.

More than that, it was the fountain from which the Holy Spirit drew the sacred materials with which He formed, by an astounding mystery and miracle, the body worn through life by the Second Person of the Blessed Trinity.

Nothing in all human history has been so distinctive as this privilege accorded to Mary’s body.

THE PUREST BODY

Art and devotion have never doubted that Mary’s body was uniquely beautiful among all the daughters of Eve. “The living ark of the living God,” St. John Damascene calls her. Uniquely sacred, uniquely beautiful, uniquely honoured, from her flesh and blood were taken the flesh and blood of God made man. Within her was performed: that mystery of the Incarnation which is the central doctrine of Christianity.

All comparisons fail beside the beauty and sacredness of this. The Ark of the Covenant was regarded as sacred by the Jews, and was decorated by the most exquisite art of the period, because it held the book of God’s laws, the jars of manna, and, for a time, the tablets on which God had graven the Commandments.

When the ark was in danger of falling into pagan hands, the Jewish armies fought with a resistless courage and daring. When actually, because of the sins of the Jews, the ark fell into the hands of the Philistines, the Hebrew nation mourned in sackcloth and ashes, and gathered every ounce of their strength to rescue this precious shrine from the sacrilege that polluted it.

Yet the body of Mary held, not the dead elements and records of the Old Law, but the Divine Author and Source of the New.

INVIOLATE TEMPLE

At the gates of the temple built to God by Solomon, in the days before his fall, the people stood in wondering awe. It was the most glorious building they had ever seen; a house worthy of the God they had begged to occupy it. But, as yet, it was only a building, beautiful and aspiring, but unaccepted by Javeh.

Then suddenly a great shout rose from all. Every throat became a joyous trumpet as the glory of God glowed within the temple. The blinding light that was His shadow overwhelmed them with its power and splendour, and Israel knew that God had accepted the temple, and dwelt in it, through the Shekinah, the faint reflection of His glory settling upon the Holy of Holies.

From that moment the temple was no mere building of magnificent dimensions, sweeping lines, and throbbing beauty. It was the chosen habitation of God with men. Within the Holy of Holies, empty except for the memory of God’s momentarily visible acceptance and presence, only the priest might go, and he after the most elaborate purifications. Nothing defiled dared approach God’s home with men.

Unfaithful Israel, in bondage, wept as they thought of the pagan soldiers who had sacked the temple and razed this house of God. Jeremias was only the voice of all Israel lamenting the systematic pillage of God’s temple by a filthy enemy.

The temple that Herod later built, God did not deign to honour with His visible presence. Yet, because it recalled the former temple which God had chosen in reflected glory, the Jews regarded it as too sacred for even the touch of pagan sandal.

The Roman Emperor, contemptu ous of the Jews’ fierce protests, placed his standards in the sanctuary sacred to God alone. And Judea groaned in anguish, and then, in futile wrath, rattled its sword.

The Saviour, justly angry, whipped from His Father’s house those, who polluted it with animals and a trade in coins. The Jews, after His death, placed their bodies in death between their temple and the Roman armies intent upon destroying it.

A PURER TEMPLE

No one can fail to admire this noble reverence of the Jews for God’s chosen temple. It is an instinct that Protestantism is quick to understand and approve. Yet there was a far more important temple. Mary’s body was the temple of the living God, not in His vague and reflected glory, but in His most complete and beautiful and reassuring manifestation. There never was a shrine of the Most High comparable in importance to the fair flesh of the Mother of God Incarnate.

We may almost say that the Christian world has shuddered with even more repugnance at the thought of corruption touching the body of Mary than did the Jews when they thought of the contamination and destruction of the ark and their temple. Mary was the ark and the temple of the God of the New Law.

NO TOUCH OF CORRUPTION

Sacrilege is something that appalls even the unbeliever. Yet it would seem little short of sacrilege that the body of Mary, the shrine of God’s divine Son, that lovely first temple of the Saviour, that walking tabernacle that carried the living presence of Christ among men, that fountain from which was drawn Christ’s human nature, should have been left to the cruel corruption of the grave.

Through the gateway of death Mary must go. That was a destiny from which Christ Himself did not shrink. The common fate of all mankind is really not a cruel and terrible thing. It is rather the opening of a barred door, through which men walk from time into eternity. In a moment called death perishable life is transmuted into life without change or ending.

Yet, because to men this gate of death has always seemed black and repelling, Christ walked through it, smiling, so to speak, confidently at us over His shoulder, and holding out a reassuring hand to us who must follow. And He asked His Mother to walk the same common pathway through life’s mysterious ending into heaven’s sure beginning.

That was inevitable, but not really terrible or terrifying.

The corruption, however, that seized upon the body following death was quite a different thing. That was ugly, repellent.

THE PENALTY OF SIN

Adam, still innocent, was to have been translated, body and soul, from paradise to paradise. For him there was to be no death and no consequent corruption. But, once he had sinned his passage out of this life to the next became not a simple process of translation, but the opening of the black gate of death. His penalty was made more terrible by the fact that his soul must leave behind it the body in which he had sinned and must consign that body to the rotting grave.

His body, soiled and contaminated by sin, was to be turned over to its executioners, the worms and their quick, ugly companions of corruption. The filth of sin was to be punished by the filth of the grave. The sinner’s body was to sink back into a state that vividly suggested the corruption of sin that had rotted his soul. Men could not see the soul corrupted by sin; They dared not look upon the sinner’s body as it corrupted in the grave. .

NO GUILT OF SIN

Yet here again Mary’s body was different. It had never been the cause nor the companion of the soul’s sinning. Her soul, Through the Immaculate Conception, had been, from the first, free from the stain even of original sin.

God’s Mother could not be under the dominion of the leader of God’s enemies even for a second. And throughout life her soul grew in perfection of virtue without the slightest, mist of sin blurring its beauty.

Her body matched her soul in sinlessness. Never was it for her the slightest occasion of imperfection. On the contrary, her heart beat only to the tempo of God’s love. Her hands were clasped in prayer or were busy in charity. Her lips uttered such words as delighted God and charmed her fellow-men. Though she herself did not know it, during the years that preceded the Incarnation her body was being prepared by divine grace and her free co-operation for the moment when it would welcome the coming of its Divine Son and Guest.

In preparation for that moment, virginity was her lovely vow. Tireless labour in the temple and, later, in her little home was her occupation. Prayer bent her knees and lifted her eyes as she besought God to speed the coming of the Messias. If she saw herself in any direct relationship to Him, it was as the little handmaiden of His Mother, someone who, she thought, would be far worthier than herself.

Her body matched her soul, and served her soul in all its dreams and high purposes. Neither body nor soul so much as nodded in the direction of evil or fault.

OUT OF HER FLESH

Sinlessness such as this was essential for God’s Mother. The flesh from which was to be drawn the flesh of God Incarnate must be virginal. No slightest deflection towards Satan could draw God’s Mother from His allegiance. If the Saviour’s external appearance was to be fashioned from hers, her eyes, into which He looked with infant and growing love, must be undimmed by any shadow of sin. Her lips that touched His baby lips and taught them the wisdom in which He grew before God and men must be entirely without stain. The lips of Isaias, destined to speak of God, had painfully to be seared with a living coal. The lips of Mary were to speak not only of God, but to God as mother to child.

Her hands that bathed His infant body must be far purer than the water in which she dipped Him: Her body, against which He rested trustingly in infancy, and which He later folded in His manly arms, could not have been in the least soiled by evil. And her senses, unlike the senses of others of our race, since they were destined for so noble a realisation, could not have felt the hot rebellions that torment the senses of the rest of mankind.

HENCE FREE

So, though death was her destiny, as it was His, still her body had never felt the corruption of sin, and did not deserve to be punished with the corruption that follows the death of the sinner. Satan had had no power over her. Nor should nor could the grave boast this power. Her body had been associated in purest union with her soul. He had conquered the grave and torn from death its sting. By a kind of divine fitness, we may expect that Christ would not relinquish to the ugly contact of the grave the Mother who had held Him in her arms, and about whom He had wrapped all the deep affection of the world’s most perfect Son.

All this seems quite beyond the need of argument. The very decencies demand it. Divine gratitude seems intimately at stake. The devotion of a Son is involved.

PRECIOUS RELICS

For precious relics, the bones of a martyr or the body of an unknown soldier, mankind devises every possible safeguard. They are carefully placed in steel and cement, in the hope of holding corruption at bay. They are honoured by the gifts of grateful men and guarded against profaning hands by watchful priests or pacing sentries.

If this is a thoroughly natural instinct with more or less ungrateful men, we may be sure that Christ, who loved His Mother with the deepest love, and Who had the power of holding back corruption from her body, would do for her what other men try in vain to do for their beloved dead.

“HANDS OFF.”

The vessels of the altar that hold the Eucharistic Body and Blood of Christ may not be touched with unconsecrated hands, and are kept from sacrilege under lock and key. The warning sign, “Hands Off,” holds back the visitor who, in his walk through Mount Vernon, looks respectfully at the desk at which Washington sat, the dishes he used, the clothing he wore. One puts into the secret recesses of a desk, safe from curious and unsympathetic eyes, the letters of a dear one.Modern embalming delays the body’s corruption less effectively than did that of ancient Egypt; but it holds off decay as long as it is in the power of modern science to do so. Our dead are today lowered into safe-like vaults, by which all, save the inevitable internal disintegration, is held at bay.

But comparisons piled on comparisons only serve to prove the same universal human impulse to safeguard things that are precious or sacred or beautiful from the touch of the curious, the corrupt, the sacrilegious, the destroyer.

All that men lack is the power. Our best safes are cracked. Our most skillful embalming fails in the end before the relentless siege of time, or else leaves the once-beautiful body a withered, ugly parchment, wrapped close about ungainly bones. The profaner breaks into the guarded sepulchre of the. Egyptian pharaoh, the tomb of an unknown soldier, or the tabernacle that holds the sacred vessels.

The forces of relentless chemistry cannot be denied their toll of the dead body. Strive as we will, driven on by our universal instinct and desire, we cannot protect from corruption the things we love and cherish most dearly.

CHRIST HAS THE POWER

But Christ has this power, and always had it. Occasionally, as if to recall His power of withholding the devastating effects of death, He guards the body of some saint from decay. Usually it is the body of someone whose life has been extraordinarily pure. When the grave is opened by those interested in his possible canonisation, the body of this virgin saint will be found pliable, fresh, uncontaminated; and, as the Martyrology says so frequently and pleasantly, “breathing a sweet odour.” Knowing this possibility, the Little Flower, with characteristic humility, prayed that her body might be permitted to corrupt. She had her prayer answered.

Christ, however, needed no such minor proofs of His power over death’s corrup tion. He proved this power beyond the shadow of doubt in His own Resurrection.

There He held back with strong hands the dire and ugly effects of death. He stripped the grave of its horror and its power.

DEATH’S FINAL DEFEAT

In addition, He promised that on Judgment Day, as St. Paul almost shouts in triumph, He will actually sweep aside the effects of death from bodies long since dissolved into dust, and will lift them in resurrection to be reunited to their souls as partners in their eternal destiny.

Heaven reaches its completeness when the body has rejoined its soul. Till then the man is not a complete man; for, made of body and soul, fighting through life with the united powers of body and soul, differentiated from other men, not merely by virtues or intellectual qualities or developed power of will, but by distinctive features of face and figure, by individual sense reactions and memories, he must be in heaven body and soul. Only thus is he complete and adequate and ready for his perfect eternity.

IN ADVANCE FOR HIS MOTHER

Christ can, then, sweep aside the effects of death. For all mankind He will do so when, at the General Judgment, body and soul are reunited in resurrection.

The conclusion from all this seems almost too patent. Christ has the power of withholding the effects of death. He loved His Mother with a perfect love and a devoted gratitude. Could He have failed to withhold the effects of death from her fair body?

He was in heaven, body and soul. His Sacred Heart would cry out, demanding that the most pure body of His Mother share with Him the same beautiful privilege, as she had shared with Him every joy and sorrow of His earthly life.

Loving His Mother, He would love her wholly, body and soul. Wanting her with Him, He would want her completely, just as He had known and loved her in life. The arms of a son, which often ache for the enfolding arms of a mother, in His case need not ache in vain.

THE RESURRECTION IMITATED

So, in what seems a lovely imitation of His own resurrection, we may well be sure that Christ lifted the body of His Mother from her tomb. His power had split the rocks that held Him captive, and rolled away the stone sealed against just such an event. His body, lifeless and cold, suddenly glowed with warmth and vigour and beauty and life, as, each wound a glowing jewel, He rose triumphant over death. From that day Easter lilies, strangely enough unknown to botanists before, bloomed throughout the world.

And for His Mother? Gratefully He did for her, and with even more willingness, though not the same significance and necessity, what He had done for Himself. He repeated in the Assumption a little of the wonder of His Resurrection.

REUNITED

We picture that scene of the reunion of Mary’s body and soul as reverently as it has been pictured in Catholic art, and as inadequately. The body of her who was God’s Mother lies wrapped in the tranquil sleep of a death that has come to find her ready and eager and joyously waiting. Her hands, scarred not as His had been with the cruel bite of the nails, but with her tireless labour for men, are folded upon her soft, maternal breast that never was crossed by so much as a temptation to sin.

Her immaculate heart is stilled and silent. No longer do its beats count the round of her love for Him. Her eyes are closed. They had often grown weary as they watched in prayer or beside His infant cot; they had stung with unshed tears under the Cross; they had been lifted in wordless, uncomplaining weariness during the long years she had awaited death. She is motionless, dead.

Then the unseen, downward sweep that is the resistless rush of angels’ wings in full flight. Mary’s soul, immaculate, radiant in the first happiness of reunion with her Son, stoops to earth and flings itself in incredible ecstasy into the body that had been its beautiful sheath and tireless partner.

Hands unfold and reach out in eager longing for her Son, a longing soon to be fulfilled. Beautiful as she was in life, her face is now transfigured with a beauty that is of heaven;. Without doubt she rises. She lifts her eyes, sees the sealed door of the tomb as penetrable as the air of dawn, and beyond, the open heavens and her waiting Son.

TRIUMPHANT

It is Mary, once more in all her loveliness and beauty of body and soul; Mary as Christ had known her, as the Apostles had seen her, as all the poor and weak of Nazareth had found her; Mary, the same, but glowing with a beauty that has no further place on earth.

She passes from the tomb, flowers spring up where the touch of her pure body has vivified the earth. With the happy escort of angels about her, she follows the glorious pathway marked out for her by her Son in His ascension, a pathway from earth, through the confines of space, to the eternal gates swung open in welcome. And lo, she is in His waiting presence!

Did angels in reverence turn aside from that meeting of Mother and Son? Were they reverently silent, as adequately and completely He thanked her for what she had done for Him? Or did their shouts of acclamation to their new Queen rock the battlements of heaven?

That we cannot know. But we may be sure that the very dome of heaven trembled a second later, when Christ, who had promised thrones to the least of His followers, led Mary to the throne reserved for her, and the shouts of the Church Triumphant rang out to acclaim her who was crowned by her Son, with a crown of stars, Queen of Heaven, Sovereign of Earth, Protector of Purgatory.

Perhaps the picture is largely fanciful. But all our pictures of what happens beyond the grave are inadequate, where we can be sure that the reality far outstrips our wildest and most glowing fancies, Human language has its limitations, and, though it may prove the fact of the Assumption, it cannot begin to paint the living reality. No Evangelist dared attempt it. A pen, uninspired and faltering, must struggle vainly with the impossible, but tempting, task.

IMPORTANT TO US

Yet surely, as we have strongly suggested, the Assumption is important to our whole human race. Purity is a difficult virtue. The fascinations of earth bind us with sometimes almost resistless strength to our petty pleasures, our pitiful ambitions, our inadequate friendships, our slightly contemptible attachments.

Never more persistently than today have the delights of earth been offered in substitution for the joys of heaven. To the modern man the considerations of earth are allimportant; the pursuit of heaven’s vast possibilities is shoved off to a dim convent library, to unread books, to half-empty churches.

Earth and its opportunities are insistently pressing. Its pleasures have never been easier to attain or more persuasive in their appeal to our senses. Purity is laughed at as futile weakness. Other-worldliness is treated as cowardly or stupid.

So Christ was good to us when He lifted up His Mother into heaven, and, through the gates opening for the Assumption, gave us a glimpse of what in measure, shall be the reward of all the good, the pure, the devoted, the other-worldly. His powerful providence seems clearly at work when the Feast of the Assumption and the tradition and doctrine that underlie it take on today a new importance and pressing insistence in the Catholic consciousness.

BEYOND EARTH

We needed to be reminded that the triumphant pathway of each pure body will be in time that same pathway that was traversed by Mary as she entered heaven. We needed to be reassured that beyond earth is a world that is the reality of which all earthly glory is the shadow.

Surely it is a beautiful thing that our eyes are lifted by the doctrine of the Assumption from the clamour and persistent insistence that grip our senses and lull our wills, to the sight of the purest of women conquering death, rising above earth, and moving straight into the arms of Christ the King.

If, by the Assumption, Christ rescued His pure Mother from the earth, through the feast and doctrine of the Assumption He gives her back to an earth that needs pure women almost more than anything else.

If He opened heaven to permit His Mother to enter freely and joyfully, He, once more, seems to open heaven that we may glimpse her glory and realise that her glory, in measure, shall be that of all those who serve Him faithfully and well.

For a world sick with a love of self that comes close to self-hatred, and busy with stupid activities and dull pleasures that consume more than they give, God has given us a vision of His Mother crowned with a diadem of stars.

TO MARY, ASSUMED INTO HEAVEN

Mary, Queen of Heaven and Mother of Men, lift our hearts with you in the glory of your Assumption. Raise us above the contaminating touch of impurity. Teach us how small earth becomes when viewed from the battlements of heaven. Make us realise that death is the triumphant gate through which we shall pass to your Son. Make us bear in mind that some day our bodies shall rejoin our souls in the unending bliss of heaven.

And, when our hour of death has come, lead us safely into the presence of Him who is the Hope of our resurrection and the Rewarder of those who have served Him, in imitation of you, His glorious Mother. Amen.

Nihil Obstat:

J. DONOVAN,

Censor Deputatus

Imprimatur:

@ D. MANNIX,

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis

********

Our Lady’s Brown Scapular

SIGN OF CONSECRATION TO MARY

FR, PETER DAVIES, O. CARM

INDEX

WHAT THE POPES HAVE SAID

“Prompted by Our constant love for the tender Mother of God, and mindful also of Our own enrolment from boyhood in the Confraternity of this same Scapular, most willingly do We commend so pious an undertaking, and We are certain that upon it will fall an abundance of divine blessings. FOR NOT WITH A LIGHT OR PASSING MATTER ARE WE HERE CONCERNED, BUT WITH THE OBTAINING OF ETERNAL LIFE ITSELF, WHICH IS THE SUBSTANCE OF THAT PROMISE OF THE MOST BLESSED VIRGIN, WHICH HAS BEEN HANDED DOWN TO US. We are concerned with that which is of supreme importance to all, and with the manner of achieving it safely. For the Holy Scapular, which may be called the Habit or Garment of Mary, is a sign and a pledge, of the protection of the Mother of God. But not for this reason, however, may they who wear the Scapular think that they can gain eternal salvation while remaining slothful and negligent of spirit, for the Apostle warns us: “In fear and trembling shall you work out your salvation.”

“Let all of you have a common language and a common armour; the language, the words of the Gospel; the armour, the Scapular of the Virgin of Carmel . . . which enjoys the singular privilege of protection even after death.”

-POPE BENEDICT XV

“This most extraordinary gift of the Scapular -from the Mother of God to St. Simon Stock . . . brings its great usefulness not only to the Carmelite Family of Mary but also to all the rest of the faithful who wish, affiliated to that Family, to follow Mary with a very special devotion.”

-POPE PIUS IX

“The Carmelite Scapular, because of its nobility of origin, its extraordinary spread among Christian peoples for many centuries, the spiritualizing effects produced by it and the outstanding miracles worked in virtue of it, render the Scapular of Carmel commendable to a wondrous degree.”

-POPE LEO XIII

“Let us now make a novena to Our Lady of Mount Carmel and I shall be ready to die.” -Pope Leo XIII during his last illness.

“The Scapular is, in a true sense a ‘habit.’ Those who receive it are, by their clothing, associated in a more or less intimate way with the Order of Carmel. Those who wear it profess to belong to Our Lady in the same way as the Knight of the Thirteenth Century, the century of the Scapular Vision, felt that he was ever under the watchful eye of his Lady. He was valiant and sure in battle, and when wearing his ‘Colours,’ would rather have died a thousand times than allow them to be tarnished.

-POPE PIUS XII

“It becomes clearer day by day that the way for men to return to God is assured by Mary, that Mary is the basis of our confidence, the guarantee of our security, the foundation of our hope.”

-POPE JOHN XXIII

“Therefore, all Carmelites, whether they live in the cloisters of the First and Second Orders, or are members of the Third Order Regular or Secular, or of the Confraternities, belong to the same Family of our Most Blessed Mother and are attached to it by a special bond of love. May they all see in this Keepsake of the Queen herself, a mirror of humility, and purity; may they read in the very simplicity of the Garment a concise lesson in modesty and simplicity; and above all, may they behold in this same Garment, which they wear day and night, the eloquently expressed symbol, of their prayers for the divine assistance; finally may it be to them a Sign of their Consecration to the most Pure Heart of the Immaculate Virgin, which (consecration) in recent times We have so strongly recommended.

“And certainly this most gentle Mother will not delay to open, as soon as possible, through her intercession with God, the gates of heaven for her children who are expiating their faults in Purgatory- a trust based on that Promise known as the Sabbatine Privilege.”

-POPE PIUS XII

OUR LADY’S BROWN SCAPULAR

Suppose that Our Lady were to appear to you today, and suppose that she were to promise you that you would certainly save your soul on the fulfilment of one simple condition-would you be interested? Would you not say “Yes”? Would you not promise to accept such a condition? Would you not feel that when your time came to die, her promise would make death easier for you?

If you can say “No” to these questions, then this pamphlet will hold no interest for you. But it will interest you if you sincerely wish to save your soul, because the Queen of Heaven has made this promise to you; and she will keep her promise if you do what she asks.

What is Our Lady’s Condition?

Our Lady simply asks you to wear her Brown Scapular during your life, as a sign that you are her child, and because you love her and want to do what she asks. That is all. She doesn’t ask you to say any special prayers, or to do any special “acts”-just to wear the Scapular because you love her, and because she has given it to you.

What Our Lady promises.

She promises that if you do wear her Scapular she will take you under her special protection, and she will see to it that you do not lose your soul. Remember, she promises this, and she will do it. She is the Queen of Heaven, and everything she asks of her Divine Son is granted.

How Did Our Lady Make the Promise?

Our Lady made her Scapular Promise over 700 years ago. In 1251 a holy Carmelite priest, St. Simon Stock, who had devoted his whole life to the loving service of the Queen of Heaven, implored her for some sign of her special protection. She appeared to him, all radiant and loving, and gave him the Scapular. She then made him a promise far beyond what he sought. She said: “THIS SHALL BE FOR YOU AND FOR ALL CARMELITES A SPECIAL FAVOUR- THAT WHOSOEVER DIES WEARING THIS, SHALL NEVER SUFFER ETERNAL FIRE.” That was the promise of the Mother of God-that whoever dies wearing the Scapular will be saved. That promise was for you.

What do the Theologians and Spiritual Writers Say?

Our Lady does not mean by her promise that anyone dying in mortal sin will be saved. Theologians and spiritual writers explain the promise to mean that anyone dying while clothed with the Scapular will receive from the Blessed Virgin Mary at the hour of death either the gift of perseverance in the state of grace, or the grace of final contrition.

This is what Blessed Claude de la Colombiere, S.J., says: “Because all the forms of our love for the Blessed Virgin, all its various modes of expression cannot be equally agreeable to her and therefore do not assist us in the same degree to Heaven, I aver, without a moment’s hestitation, that the Scapular is the most favoured of all . . .

“I know well that the Saints have spoken most encouragingly on the powerful protection of Mary, but enlightened and holy as they have been they are, after all, only men. Here it is the Queen herself who in that celebrated revelation, reveals all the tenderness of her heart to Saint Simon Stock! Those great Saints have assured me that with Mary to protect my interests I need fear nothing. That does not suffice me. I wish to know if she does protect my interests. Yes. She gives me proof unequivocal. I have but to glance at my Scapular, tangible proof before my eyes, and re call the promise attached to its devout wearing: “Whosoever dies wearing this shall never suffer eternal fire.”

How we must wear the Scapular.

At the same time that he joyfully professed: “ I learned to love the Scapular Virgin in the arms of my mother,” Pope Pius XI warned all the faithful that “although it is very true that the Blessed Virgin loves all who love her, nevertheless those who wish to have the Blessed Mother as a helper at the hour of death, must in life merit such a signal favour by abstaining from sin and labouring in her honour.” When that great Carmelite, Saint John of the Cross, received the habit he said: “I desire to practice with fervour all the virtues of Mary which this holy habit symbolizes.”

With Love and Reverence

We must wear the Scapular with the same dispositions, striving to love and reverence Mary and doing our best to keep sin out of our lives. If we do this we can be sure that we are wearing it in the right spirit. As a matter of fact, if anyone had no real desire to avoid sin, then that person would not bother to wear the Scapular faithfully and perseveringly. The Scapular is no magic talisman-we shall still be tempted when we wear it-but Our Lady has promised us the final victory over sin if we are faithful to it.

The Scapular Makes You Mary’s Child

When you are enrolled in the Brown Scapular, Our Blessed Lady becomes your Mother in a special way. The Scapular with which she clothes you reminds you of your dependence upon her. Child-like simplicity is one of the silent lessons it teaches. As long as we wear it we shall be reminded that we are in a spiritual state in which we need to be clothed by Our Blessed Mother, and it will keep us in her arms always.

Of course all men are her children because she is a Mother to the human race; but when you put on her Scapular you put on her special uniform and dedicate yourself to her service. When a young man puts on an army uniform it is a sign that he is in the Queen’s service; from that time onward he is serving his country in his daily life- and, in return, he receives special privileges. So with you when you wear Our Lady’s own uniform-the Scapular. You belong to her and are consecrated to her in a special way. It is as if you were to say: “I want to be your special child, so I promise to wear your uniform to show this.” In return Our Blessed Lady promises you that your salvation will be her special care and that she will not allow you to lose your soul. Although she loves every person in the world, her care and affection for you will be something special, more than others receive.

For Your Part . . .

Of course we who wear Our Lady’s Scapular and are proud to be her children will strive in our daily life to treat her as a loving Mother. It will be our joy to pray to her, to imitate her, to honour her publicly, to be chaste like her, to look to her with loving trust for all our needs. We shall, out of our love for her, find by in saying the Rosary, or the Little Office of Our Lady; we shall find time in our busy lives for some spiritual reading; like her, we shall try to live in God’s Presence, training our minds to turn easily and naturally to spiritual things.

During your Lifetime

Our Blessed Mother’s love and care for us will extend to every moment of our life. Every day we are faced with temptations-she will give us the extra graces we need to conquer them. And if, through our weakness or malice, we do fall into sin, a loving appeal to her will obtain the grace of repentance for us. Then also, she will offer us many more opportunities of gaining merit, and of loving her Divine Son more. She will help us to make good use of these. She will help us to be pure, to be honest, to be good-tempered and kind to others. Our Blessed Mother will always be at hand to assist us in times of sorrow or pain or trouble. Even in our everyday difficulties we will not ask her in vain for help. Whatever will help us to love her Divine Son she will obtain for us-every year, every day, every minute and every second of our life, she will be near us.

“Other pious practices,” writes Fr. Chaignon, S.J.,” are attached to certain times and to certain places, but the devotion to the Scapular belongs to all time and places. Thanks to my little habit, wherever I am, whatever I am doing, Mary never sees me without seeing on my body evidence of my devotion to her. Always and everywhere my Scapular pleads for me, recommends me to her tenderness, tells me that I love her and that I confide all my interests in her maternal care.”

At Your Death . . .

Speaking of the Scapular, Bl. Claude de la Colombiere says: “It is not enough to say that the habit of the Blessed Virgin is a mark of predestination. Because of the alliance which Mary contracts with us, and which we enter into with her, no other devotion renders our salvation so certain.”

Few of us like to think about dying. We dread it. We don’t often think about it. Yet nothing is more certain than that we must all die. We know that, and we know too, that the moment when we die is the most important moment of our whole life. The whole of eternity depends on it. If we die with unrepented sin on our souls, we condemn ourselves, not to a lifetime, but to an eternity of misery and agony and suffering. If we die with the love of God in our hearts, then, not a lifetime, but a whole eternity of love and complete happiness lies before us. If we could only realize this, how lovingly we would wear the Scapular during our lives! Our loving Mother, the Queen of Heaven, has made us a tremendous promise-”Whoever dies wearing this will never suffer eternal fire”! She will be beside us at that fateful hour. She will see that we have true sorrow for our sins, she will see that our hearts are filled with love for her Divine Son. She will take the terror away from the moment of death, and will strengthen and encourage us. She will remind us that her own beloved Son, Jesus, will not condemn those who have lovingly worn His Mother’s uniform during life. Her promise is clear-she will not let us lose our soul.

And After Death? . . .

Our Blessed Mother’s special interest in those who wear her Scapular during life does not cease with their deaths. We would expect her, as a loving Mother, never to cease helping her children until they are released from Purgatory and united forever in Heaven with her Divine Son and herself. But we have far more than a mere hope of such assistance-Our Lady of Mount Carmel has made a second clear and explicit promise on the help she will give to those in Purgatory who wore her Scapular during their lives.

The Second Scapular Promise . . .

Our Lady has made a second wonderful promise to those who wear her Scapular. Seventy-one years after she had made her amazing promise to Saint Simon Stock she is said to have appeared to Pope John XXII, in the year 1322, and promised in favour of those who wear her Scapular speedy release from Purgatory, particularly on Saturday, provided certain conditions are fulfilled.

The second Scapular Promise does not depend on the alleged vision. It has been ratified by the authority of the Church exercising its power of “binding and loosing.”

The conditions are:

1. To wear the Scapular faithfully after valid enrolment; 2. To observe chastity according to one’s state; 3. To recite daily the Little Office of the Blessed Virgin.

The first two conditions are unchangeable, namely, to wear the Scapular and to observe chastity, but in regard to the third condition, anyone who cannot read the Office may substitute abstinence from flesh meat on Wednesdays and Saturdays. No commutation is necessary to substitute abstinence for the Office in this case. But, if the Office is too difficult, any priest with power to enrol in the Scapular may change it for something else. The usual commutation is the Our Father, Hail Mary, and Glory be, etc., seven times each day, or the recitation of the Holy Rosary.

The Sabbatine Privilege. . . .

This second promise in favour of those who wear Mary’s Scapular is known as the Sabbatine Privilege. It is called the Sabbatine Privilege because of Our Lady’s special mention of Saturday (in Latin, Sabbatum means Saturday) as the day when she will come to the assistance of her children.

Saturday is traditionally honoured as Our Lady’s day-the liturgy provides special Masses in her honour and we are encouraged to turn our thoughts and prayers to her on that day.

This privilege has been approved again and again by later Popes, and it is a common practice for devout Scapular wearers to hope and pray for the grace of dying on Saturday. The great Carmelite mystic, St. John of the Cross, used to pray for this grace, and his prayers were answered. Before he died, in the year 1591, he said: “The Mother of God and of Carmel hastens to Purgatory with grace on Saturday and delivers those souls who have worn her Scapular. Blessed be such a Lady who wills that, on this day of Saturday, I shall depart from this life!” Pope Benedict XV. moved particularly by the thought of this great privilege said to the seminarians of Rome: “Let all of you have a common language and a common armour; the language, the sentences of the Gospel; the armour, the Scapular of the Virgin of Carmel which enjoys the singular privilege of protection even after death.”

Pope Pius XII wrote in his Scapular letter for the Seventh Centenary of the devotion: “And certainly this most gentle Mother will not delay to open, as soon as possible, through her intercession with God, the gates of heaven for her children who are expiating their faults in Purgatory-a trust based on that Promise known as the Sabbatine Privilege.”

Too good to be true?

These then are the two amazing promises made by Our Blessed Lady in person, for those who faithfully wear her Brown Scapular. You may be tempted to say: “It is too good to be true-it makes the work of saving my soul too easy.” But you would be forgetting the great fact that underlies this devotion-Our Blessed Lady is the Mother of God, and at the same time she is your Mother. She is the Mother of God, of Jesus Christ who is really God, and who can do all things. What He wants she wants, and whatever she desires her Divine Son gives to her. And, at the same time, she is your Mother, loving you far more than your earthly mother, prepared to give you far more, wanting only that you shall be united with her in Heaven in the love of her Divine Son. Who could say that she cannot carry out her promises? Who can say she does not want to do so? She can and she will. If you honour her during your life by wearing her Scapular, she will certainly be true to all she has promised.

Other Privileges of the Scapular

So far we have only considered the two great promises of Our Lady- but they by no means exhaust the spiritual treasures that may be gained by wearing the Scapular faithfully. There are many others which, even apart from Our Lady’s promises, would be enough to make us wear it. The Scapular is a storehouse of spiritual treasures-the extent of which we shall only fully understand in Heaven.

You Share in the Merits of the Carmelite Order

The Scapular is a privilege granted by Our Blessed Mother to the religious Order especially dedicated to her-the Order of Our Lady of Mount Carmel, better known as the Carmelite Order. You receive the Scapular through this Order, and become in this way the sharer of its spiritual goods. When you reflect for a moment on the holiness of an Order that has, for many centuries, given great Saints to the Church, you will realize that this is no mean privilege. You know the holiness of Saints like St. Albert, St. Angelus, St. Peter Thomas, the Little Flower, St. John of the Cross, St. Teresa of Avila, and many others. There were Carmelite Saints who loved the Scapular and share it with you as the precious gift of Our Blessed Mother. You share it with all of them, and you share in their merits too.

Moreover, you share also in all the prayers and merits of every Carmelite Monastery throughout the world. You share also with the immense body of the faithful who wear and love the Brown Scapular- the hundreds of millions of people of every race and in every part of the globe. All belong to the same family and have the same Mother, and the prayers and merits of the other members help us in our particular difficulties. The Brown Scapular is the badge of that big family-by wearing it you are entitled to every privilege as one of Our Lady’s special children.

Indulgences

The Church has shown its wholehearted approval of the Scapular by opening to it the store-house of indulgences. The list of indulgences is so long that it would be impossible to give it here; indeed a complete list of them would almost fill the pages of another A. . . . . pamphlet. The late Prior-General of the Carmelite Order, Father Magennis wrote: “Through the generosity of the Church, we thus have-apart from the two promises of Our Blessed Lady to all who wear her Scapular-a rich field of spiritual favours from which we may reap an abundant harvest, not only for ourselves, but also for those souls who, whilst on earth, were united to us by the bonds of love and friendship and fraternal charity.” So, by wearing the Scapular, we are able to assist far more effectively the holy souls in Purgatory. Those who were near and dear to us during life will, even after their deaths, be helped greatly by our faithful wearing of the Scapular.

What the Popes Say About the Scapular

As good Catholics, we always look to the Holy Father for a lead in matters of devotion, and we know that what is approved by the Pope is safe for us to follow. For many centuries, the Popes have publicly voiced their approval of the Scapular, and have themselves worn it faithfully and lovingly. When Leo XI was being crowned as Pope, his Scapular was accidently removed from his shoulders, and he said: “Leave me Mary lest Mary should leave me”-an eloquent tribute to his faith in Our Lady’s promises.

PIUS IX

Pope Pius IX was notable for his special love for the Mother of God. It was he who defined the Dogma of the Immaculate Conception in 1854. This saintly Pontiff said: “This most extraordinary gift of the Scapular from the Mother of God to St. Simon Stock, brings its great usefulness not only to the great Carmelite family of Mary, but also to all the rest of the faithful who wish, affiliated to that family, to follow Mary with a special devotion.”

THE WORKINGMAN’S POPE -LEO XIII

Pope Leo XIII is known to all of us as the author of the great encyclical letters on social and labour reforms. All his life he had a tender devotion to the Scapular. When he knew his death was near after his long and fruitful reign, he called his close friends to his bedside and said: “Let us make a novena to Our Lady of the Scapular, and I shall be ready to die.” Earlier in his Pontificate he had said of the Scapular-”Its nobility of origin, its venerable antiquity, its extraordinary spread in the Church, the spiritualizing effects produced by it, and the outstanding miracles worked in virtue of it, make the Scapular of Carmel commendable to a wonderful degree.”

PIUS X

This saintly Pontiff, often called the “Pope of the Eucharist” because he permitted children to receive Holy Communion, not only wore the Scapular-he was also a Carmelite Tertiary, a member of the Third Order of Carmel.

POPE BENEDICT XV

Pope Benedict XV ascended the throne of St. Peter in 1914, the year in which the terrible First World War broke out. His pleas for peace fell on deaf ears- but his stirring appeal for the wearing of the Scapular should be heard by every Catholic. He declared: “Let all of you have a common language and a common armour; the language, the sayings of the Gospel; the common armour, the Scapular of the Virgin of Carmel which you all ought to wear, and which enjoys the extraordinary privilege of protection even after death.”

The Pope of the Missions -Pius Xl.

Many of us remember Pope Pius XI who died in 1939. It was he who canonized the great Carmelite Saint, Therese of Lisieux, the Little Flower, and made her the Patroness of Missions throughout the world. But, long before he knew little Therese, he was devoted to the Scapular. He said: “I learned to love the Scapular Virgin in the arms of my mother.” He never tired of urging the faithful to wear the Scapular faithfully and so obtain the protection and promises of Our Lady.

Pope Pius XII, shared the devotion of his predecessors to the Scapular-a devotion which went back to his boyhood days. His very beautiful letter on the occasion of the 700th anniversary of the Scapular is quoted in the introduction to this pamphlet.

A Sign and Pledge of Mary’s Protection

Could anyone have any doubts of the value and the sincerity of Our Lady’s promises when the Popes have so unhesitatingly accepted them? Pope Pius XII called the Scapular “the keepsake of the Queen herself, and the Garment of Mary.” His predecessors for 700 years loved it and trusted to its protection. We need have no fear of doing what they have done, and what they have so constantly urged us to do. Let us put it on then with confidence and love for our Heavenly Queen, knowing that in doing so we are honouring her, and that, in return, she will do all she has promised for us.

Consecration to Mary

When Our Lady appeared at Fatima in 1917, she reproached the world for its laxity and commanded us all to pray for sinners. She promised peace to the world if only the world would turn to her, and she requested the consecration of ourselves and of the world to her Immaculate Heart. In the last vision to the children of Fatima, on 13th October, 1917, the children saw Our Lady clad in the Carmelite habit and holding her Brown Scapular down towards the crowd. This was her last appearance. It was an eloquent sign of her desire that all should wear the Scapular in her honour, and as a sign of their consecration to her. Pope Pius XII no doubt had this in mind when he wrote these words in the Scapular letter: “May it (the Scapular) be a sign of their consecration to the Most Pure Heart of the Immaculate Virgin, which consecration we have so strongly recommended in recent times.”

Each and every one of us has the duty of taking part in the crusade to bring God back into the lives of men and of nations. Our Lady herself promised at Fatima that this would be effected by the consecration and devotion of the world to Her Immaculate Heart. She said: “If my requests are heard, Russia will be converted, and there will be peace.” Here then is your task, and the means are within your reach. By wearing the Scapular faithfully you are consecrating yourself to the Queen of Heaven in the way she desires, and in the way that the Holy Father has recommended. You will be doing your part towards winning peace for the world, and for the triumph of God and His Church over all the evil influences which today are attempting to overthrow it.

Are You Enrolled in the Scapular?

Most children are enrolled in the Brown Scapular when they make their first Holy Communion. If you were enrolled as a child and have perhaps not worn the Scapular for a long time, you do not have to be enrolled again. All that is necessary is to obtain a new Scapular and wear it. A new Scapular does not have to be blessed, but is simply worn immediately you get it.

If you have never been enrolled in the Brown Scapular, any priest with diocesan faculties in Australia and New Zealand may do so-parish priests and curates have the necessary authority, as well as all priests of Religious Orders who are authorized to hear confessions in the diocese. Any of them will gladly enrol you if you ask him.

The Scapular Medal

Because of the difficulty of wearing the cloth Scapular in very hot climates, Pope Pius X permitted the use of the Scapular Medal as a substitute. The medal must have the image of Our Lady on one side and that of the Sacred Heart on the other, and it must be blessed. For the actual enrolment in the Scapular a cloth Scapular must be used.

All except one of the spiritual favours and indulgences of the Scapular, including the Sabbatine Privilege, may be gained by wearing the Scapular Medal. In order to encourage people to continue wearing the cloth Scapular, Pope Pius X granted an indulgence of 500 days each time we kiss our cloth Scapular. This does not apply to the medal.

The cloth Scapular is to be preferred to the medal since it is the habit of Our Lady of Mount Carmel in miniature. When its place is taken by the medal much of the rich symbolism of the Scapular devotion is lost. It is true that the medal is more convenient to wear; but one should remember that little sacrifices are highly pleasing to Our Lady. It is recommended, therefore, that all who can should wear the cloth Scapular, and when that is incovenient during the day and the medal is substituted, the cloth Scapular should be worn at least during the night.

Your Brown Scapular

Now that you have read about the Brown Scapular, can you fail to be impressed with its importance for yourself? Our Blessed Lady has made her promises for you; she promises that you will save your soul if you wear it faithfully, and that she will, after your death, shorten your time in Purgatory. To neglect such promises would be rash indeed! Take then Mary’s Scapular, wear it faithfully with love and with reverence in her honour-if you do, it will most surely be for you a pledge of her maternal protection in life, in death, and even after death!

Nihil Obstat:

B. O’CONNOR, Diocesan Censor

Imprimatur:

@ JUSTIN D. SIMONDS, Archiepiscopus Melburnensis. April 1st, 1964

********

Our Precious Freedom

BY DANIEL A. LORD, S. J

INDEX

“How youth loves its liberty!” said Father Hall, almost with a. sigh. “But, then, so do we all, I guess.” “Raw-ther,” Dick drawled.

“I do wish,” interjected Sue, “you’d stop using that Oxford accent straight out of Hollywood.”

“Okay, sis. I”11 talk hereafter like a radio announcer with a bad cold introducing a baritone crooner with a nasal obstruc tion.”

“Liberty,” said the priest, cutting right through the repartee, “is one of the grandest, most dangerous, rarest things in the world.”

Dick and Sue cast each other a look that meant, “I wonder if dad and mother have been talking to him.” “And while I”m almost sure that thus far your rush of liberty to the head has not given you a headache, I”m not so sure it hasn’t been giving someone else the beginnings of heartache.”

HOLIDAYS ASTRAY

“Thanksgiving?” suggested Sue, contritely:

“Mother and dad didn’t seem to think the holidays much of a success.”

“We were having such a great time,” Dick began apologetically, “that I”m afraid we just about forgot mother and dad.” “I wrote mother a little note of apology from school,” said Sue.

“Much to the good,” nodded the priest. “But, well, I”11 be considerably interested in what happens to you the next two years. “You’ve unexpectedly been gi ven a surprising lot of liberty. People get it; people take it nowadays. And it makes the good ones better; and it cracks the cheap and shoddy ones all to bits, I don’t think you’ve anything shoddy in your makeup; but I”11 be anxious to see how far liberty and freedom test you and prove the stuff you’re made of.”

“Thanks,” said the twins, in a duet that strongly reminded the priest of the father and mother.

A GLORIOUS GIFT

“No question about it,” Father Hall said, gesturing with the stem of his pipe, “liberty, freedom, is one of the most glorious gifts that falls into the hands of a man or a woman. Men cherish it with all the strength of their souls. Women love it more than life. Nations rise and fall because of liberty and its abuse.

“Tyrants have t ampered with liberty and felt the cold steel of the assassin. Wars have been, fought to win it and to hold it. Men who gain it for others rank with the world’s greatest heroes. We love Washington. We make a symbol even of that traditional character, William Tell. We love Uncle Tom for his declaration of soul freedom in the face of his owner, Simon Legree.

“Freedom in all its forms is precious. We honour men who give us freedom from hard labour, like the great inventors; freedom from ignorance, like the great saga and scientists; freedom from pain, like the great physicians.

“Under freedom a nation reaches its most magnificent heights, as the Greeks did at Thermopylae and in their golden era. Freedom can conjure up the marvellous minds that met in our early days as a nation. Men inspired by freedom create great literatures and go leaping off to expand the world’s horizons-through explanation or scientific research. For the sake of freedom men gladly die martyrs” deaths.

ST. PAUL EXULTS

“And when St. Paul looked at Chris tianity and contrasted its freedom with the Judaism of his day, petty in its restrictions and fettering men with small, annoying laws he boasted proudly of what he called the liberty of Christ.”

Dick looked interested.

“I”d never thought of that,” he said.

“Oh, yes. St. Paul was tremendously proud of the freedom that Christ had brought to the world-freedom from slavery, from the ugly restrictions of class and race prejudice, from the debt of sin that had stood against mankind, from Jewish tiresome ceremonial and petty, hampering laws, from the bondage of evil. It’s a phrase to roll on the tongue, that expression of St. Paul’s, “the liberty of Christ.”“

APPARENT CONTRADICTIONS

Father Hall himself seemed to roll it with relish, as he looked from the girl to the boy and back.

“And yet,” be continued, after a moment’s pause, “the strangest thing about liberty is the fact that it is bound round and held together by law. The freest man is the man who has deliberately submitted himself to law. Freest nations love and most carefully protect their laws.

“It’s hard to put all this in a phrase, but the freest man is the man who is most bound by law. The freest nation is the one with the most complete system of legal restrictions.”

As the twins looked at each other in puzzled surprise, Father Hall laughed.

“On my word,” he assured them, “I”m not frying to force epigrams or juggle words. I”m just stating one of the strangest and yet moat inevitable facts in the world. If I could think of an illustration of the connection between freedom and the observance of law. . There! I think I”ve got it.”

THE FREEDOM OF THE COURTS

They all settled down a little deeper in their chairs, and Father Hall looked directly at Sue.

“Sue, do you remember your wild-eyed enthusiasm when for the first time you saw Helen Wills play tennis?” “Do I?” cried Sue, her eyes glistening. “I was simply mad about her. I”d never seen such grace and ease and freedom of motion, except, perhaps, in Harriet Hoctor, the dancer.”

“There, you’ve got it. A great tennis player and a great dancer both had this freedom of motion. Helen Wills, at the service line, up to the net, into the air with the spring of the ball itself; sure strokes, certain placement, and the swift, apparently effortless, movement of a bird.”

“I never wanted to play tennis again,” Sue confessed ruefully. “I felt like an elephant swinging a telegraph pole.” “Perfect simile,” said her ungallant brother.

HOURS OF DRILL

“Now, how precisely did Helen Wills get that perfect freedom of movement on the court? How did she come to manifest that careless perfection of skill? By adherence to the laws of tennis and of health. She practised under hard professional masters, who shot the ball at her from every angle. She learned everything her best amateur friends could tell her. She mastered the principles of serve and chop and lob and volley and drive.

“Physicians and trainers taught her the laws of physical training and the care of her health and just how to keep herself fit. That meant doing some difficult things and eliminating a good many pleasant things.

During the tournament season, if she is like men athletes, she gives up late hours, for example, rich food, smoking, even a cocktail.

EXPERTS AND DUBS

“While other girls went out on the court and smashed the ball around, largely into the backstop or the net, she was carefully studying the laws of the game and of her own physical condition, until they were part of her nature, and she became the controlled embodiment of all the rules of a perfect woman athlete and a perfect tennis player. The other girls, who never knew or cared about the laws, are still the cause of agony to any decent partner.

“And you know a little, I t hink, about the training through which a dancer goes.-the laws of rhythm, poise, movement; the careful study of the hands and feet; the hours of tireless drilling under temperamental ballet masters; the patience and the labour that lie back of the bird-like fluency of a great dancer. No art has more exacting rules. No art makes greater demands upon its followers-care of health, diet for figure, constant rehearsal, the learning of new technique each year, almost every month. The dancer must seem to dance without effort. But back of Harriet Hoctor, as back of Pavlova and all the great, lie years of submission to rule and law and stern discipline.

FREEDOM OF SONG

“And I remember, too, the way you both raved after you’d heard Lawrence Tibbett sing. His perfect flexibility of voice, his ease of manner, the breath control he used in “The Glory Road,” and the technique that brought his voice from a clean wisp of sound to a great, rolling torrent! And all so apparently effortless. How did he get so that melody rolls off his tongue with less effort than you use singing a popular song?”

“Don’t I wish I knew?” said Dick.

“Well, fundamentally he had a great voice; but so have thousands of people you’ve never heard of and never will. Tibbett mastered and obeyed the laws of voice and music. He stood for hours, months on end, while vocal drillmasters taught him voice control and breathing and placement. He sang scales when his heart longed for Pagliacci. He was taught the care of his throat, the use of his mouth and teeth. Every tiniest law that experienced teachers could give him he mastered and observed. And after all these years of learning the rules and laws of his art, because he knew them and kept using them, he displayed that effortless freedom that makes his singing such a joy.”

FLYING FINGERS

“I think I get you,” said Dick.

“And Paderewski and Zez Confrey (to take two extremes) didn’t just sit down to a piano and by a sudden gift from heaven start to play. They practised scales under a teacher who probably cracked their knuckles, and spent hours on end mastering piano technique. They gave up hours, when perhaps the woods or the fields of sport were calling them, to intricate exercises that taught them the laws of execution. They studied harmony and learned how the masters did it.

“Only after years of submission to masters and laws and rules did Paderewski’s fingers run like quicksilver as he played Chopin’s “Minute Waltz” in forty-five seconds, and Confrey speed through the intricacies of his own “Kitten on the Keys.” When for a second they forgot the laws, they played discords and tied their fingers into knots.

“Thousands of youngsters start music every year in everyt hing from great conservatories to correspondence schools. Most of them are unwilling to study the laws, to train their fingers to an exacting technique, and they end stumbling through “chop-sticks”; or, as a friend of mine once remarked, they never let their right hand know what their left hand is doing. They are lawless musicians, and they are terrible.

“But the man who knows the laws and obeys them creates our music and plays it with all the fluent ease of a great pianist.”

LAW AND GENIUS

“I”d always heard,” said Sue, “that genius disregards the rules, and that that is why it is genius.” “That is the excuse of lazy painters, who won’t be bothered learning to draw, and lazy musicians, who won’t be troubled with the intricate laws of harmony and counterpoint. Geniuses are men who are big enough to create a new set of rules usually more difficult than those that went before.

“They may change or modify the old laws; the new ones they give their art are even more exacting. Ted Sloan, in the world of sport, changed the laws that governed a jockey; but the new way he rode, high on the horse’s withers, was much more difficult and demanded much more riding skill than the old method of sitting erect in the middle of the horse’s back. Cannon Ball McLaughlin changed the laws of tennis in service; but he changed them from a soft, easily smashed serve to something that seemed to put all the laws of physics on the covers of one tennis ball.

“Debussy changed the laws of standard harmony, but he made music vastly more d ifficult and complicated. His “Afternoon of a Faun” is more intricate than any of Beethoven’s symphonies and quite as filled with laws. Gershwin did new things to jazz, but he took simple and easy-to-play ragtime and made it law-abiding, musicianly, intricate, and almost classic in form in his “Rhapsody in Blue” and his succeeding compositions. Genius doesn’t destroy or ignore laws; it simply makes new and mere difficult ones.

WITHOUT LAW, WHAT?

“Art without laws is ugly and repulsive as the thumpings of a bad musician, the awful daubs of a bad painter, the sad verse of an amateur poet. For that matter, put in the football team someone who has not observed the laws of training and who plays according to his own rules, and what happens?”

The twins laughed delightedly.

“Well, life is an art, and life is a game. And,believe me, it’s an art that cannot be practised and a game that cannot be played without a pretty careful knowledge of and adherence to the laws.”

MAKING IT HARD

They were silent for a moment. Sue had discovered on the stool an unopened box of chocolates. “May I?” she asked, holding them up.

“Of course. I forgot they were there. When I”m smoking, candy is something I don’t even think of.” “Dick?” she asked, holding them out.

“I thinkI”11 take one of Father’s cigarettes. But cigarettes are getting so darn effeminate (excusing my model sister) that I”m going to take up candy as more manly.”

“It’s interesting to note that all great geniuses, in whatever line, try to see how difficult they can make the laws of their craft. Great painters work for years on a new colour combination or on new and finer laws of perspective. Great poets all insist on writing sonnets, just because the laws of the sonnet are so difficult and so few have fulfilled them perfectly.

Great athletes set out to establish new records that will oblige their successors to more rigorous training and more perfect technique.

“Paganini wrote violin numbers so difficult that he hoped nobody but himself would ever sufficiently master the technique of the violin to perform them. He almost succeeded. Pioneers look for new worlds to conquer, more difficult things to do-a spot on the earth where no one has been, a corner of science that no one has explored. The dullards of the world take the easy paths. The geniuses, when they cannot find hard paths, create them.”

FREEDOM THROUGH LAW

“There really is no fun in doing things that are easy, is there, Father?” suggested Dick.

“Most real people don’t find their fun that way. And there’s no thrill of accomplishment in knocking off something that anybody else could do.

“Now, here’s what I”m leading to. The freest people in the world are always the ones who live under the completest code of laws. The more civilised a people, the greater its respect for laws and customs.

LAWLESS

“I suppose there are really only a few groups who profess to be lawless. Tramps and hoboes are; so are racketeers- almost. But if you skim through Jim Tully’s tramp stories, you find that even the tramp along the railroad tracks is bound by the law of his “jungle,” and violation of that law often means death by a razor edge. The racketeer or the gangster, supposedly beyond the law, is bound by the law of his gang. Just let him violate it, and though the police may not touch him, his bulletriddled body is picked up along some suburban road. A man can’t escape law even by proclaiming himself lawless.

LAW-BOUND

“But, as I said, the more civilised the nation and man, the more intricate the laws that bind the man’s life. We in America are justly proud of our freedom. We like to remember that our ancestors fought and died for it. Yet, in the eyes of an Arab or a primitive Sioux or Iroquois, we would be living under simply insufferable laws.

“We have laws that regulate everything, from the quality of the baby’s milk to the filing of a last will and testament. We legislate for the position of a postage stamp on an envelope, and the kind of home a man may build in a certain city block. We determine by law the number of hours a man may work, and how many holidays he may have. He can’t pass through the doors of a theatre without paying the law for permission to take an hour off looking at a Mickey Mouse cartoon.

“A lot of the laws are stupid and si lly, and they quickly pass into the boneyard of lost legislation. The majority of the laws continue to surround our lives with a security that the wall of China could not give nor the fortresses of the Old World ensure. They are civilisation’s rampart against the aggressions of savagery and barbarism.

THE HORRIBLE EXAMPLE

“Now we have to keep reminding ourselves that the simplest laws and the most complex are all either protection or a guide or a stern warning against impending evil, or the crystallised experience of generations put into a sentence. Even such a simple thing as the traffic laws, for example . . .”

“Oh” cried Dick, “let’s take all the traffic laws and the traffic cops with them and hurl them into the sea.”

“Yes?” said Father Hall seriously. “Well, traffic laws are a very good example of what I mean. And there is another set of laws that we might take at the same time. Suppose we consider little Willie, aged sixteen.”

“Little Willie, aged sixteen,” said Dick, “I”m sure, is going to be my pet peeve.”

“Well, then, let’s consider little Mabel, aged sixteen.”

“Willie, if you please,” protested Sue. “We’ll stick to little Willie.”

“Little Willie it shall be. Well, little Willie, aged sixteen, has just graduated from high school and is a thoroughly precocious lad. So for graduation his father presents him with a beautiful canarycoloured car.”

“Well, well!” Dick interrupted. “Little Willie with a canary-coloured car is worth considering.”

“Even with a seven-passenger Rolls,” commented Sue, “I could live without little Willie.”

LISTENING WITH YAWNS

“Now, as Willie has never driven a car, the demonstrator comes to give him his lesson. “Here is first, and second, and third,” says the demonstrator. “Here’s your clutch and there’s your brake. Now, always start in low, that is, in first, unless you want to wear out your engine in no time. For the first five hundred miles don’t go faster than thirty miles an hour or you’ll burn out your bearings. Change your oil every five hundred miles, and put distilled water in your battery regularly. After you have proved you can take all the hills in the vicinity in high, use second to climb hills; that is what second is for. With decent care your car should last you all through college.” And that remark shows that he doesn’t know little Willie.

“Willie yawns and says, “Stupid rules, made to help the oil stations and give the dealers an alibi for a crook car.” So he steps on the starter, puts his car into second, and starts off. From that time on be forgets he has a first, even when he has stopped slanting up a hill. He forces the machine up the sides of the mountains without shifting out of high, no matter how the engine knocks its protests. He drives sixty miles an hour steadily the first day and wonders, why the engine smells oddly. He never changes oil; and because he can’t see the battery he puts it completely out of his mind. Well-”

MADE TO BE BROKEN

“Oh, I see,” said Dick. “Little Willie is really the village idiot.”

“Not at all. He’s only a young man who completely and deliberately disregards the laws. These happen to be engine laws, but that doesn’t keep his car from heading straight for the scrap heap.”

“Intelligent youth,” commented Sue.

“Very. But we’re not yet through with Willie, the Horrible Example. As far as Willie is concerned, traffic laws were made to be broken. He drives through boulevard traffic at fifty-five an hour. A red light is simply his signal to step on it, and when he sees a sign marked “No Left Turn,” he performs a U-turn. His favourite hunting preserves are the safety zones, and he deliberately cuts in on the left side of standing trolley cars and the right side of moving trucks. Traffic laws leave Willie cold, and he knocks them the same way. He thinks they were made for nice old ladies who still drive electric coupes, and for pedestrians interested in the survival of their species.”

WHITHER HEADED?

“Not to anticipate your story, Father,” asked Dick, “does little Willie end up in gaol or the family plot in Calvary?” “On examination of his record the judge was in favour of an asylum. Instead, he gave him a lecture on how traffic laws were made to protect life, to make driving a car easy, safe, and delightful, to preserve the existence of the pedestrian, and to keep the city streets from becoming a jungle where trucks and touring cars roamed wild in search of prey, and where children ventured with faint hope of returning safely to the family fireside. Then he confiscated little Willie’s car and turned him over to the care of his relatives.”

They all laughed.

“Never again shall I speak disrespectfully of traffic laws,” said Dick solemnly.

RIDING THROUGH THE RED

But Father Hall became suddenly very serious.

“Unfortunately, the world is full of little Willies today, who ride heedlessly and without regard for consequences, not though the traffic laws and the laws of gasoline engines, but through the laws of God and man. They smash through all the laws of life, caring not in the least for the fact that behind them is a wake of death and destruction, and ahead of them earth’s junk heap and God’s eternal junk pile, called Hell.

“Such a lawbreaker may be a Genghis Khan or a Stalin, a Captain Kidd or a buc caneer of Wall Street. He may be a Don Juan dressed in silks and flourishing a sword, or a Broadway roue in Bond Street tuxedo, whirling a malacca stick. He may be a Nietzsche or a George Bernard Shaw or a Bertrand Russell or a Voltaire or a Zola or the author of the “Arabian Nights.” In his wake are, not the frightened nursemaid with her baby carriage, or the yapping dogs fearing for their tails, or the startled old gentleman tripping on the kerb, but overturned civilisations, corrupted manners, bloody revolutions, contempt for authority and justice, despoiled women, followers who put into terrible practice the principles he has taught, tears and blood and wreckage.

BEHIND SAFE WALLS

“You see, law-God’s law and man’s derived from God-is the only safeguard we have against the beast that dwells in the heart of every man and woman. In law-abiding communities people sleep calmly behind unlocked doors. In communities infested by the lawless, neither high walls, nor massive time locks, nor armed guards, nor efficient police can protect the peaceful citizen against the assaults of those who have set themselves against the law or above it. Freedom and liberty are curtailed. People are not free to leave their houses after dark. Women are not free to walk through quiet streets. Business is not free to expand in confidence. As lawlessness grows, the freedom of the honest citizen diminishes and disappears.

“And, believe me, it is not merely the man who violates the law which can be avenged in a court of justice who destroys the liberty of the world. The impure man makes life and liberty unsafe for women. The tricky business man endangers the property of widows and dependent children.”

BROKEN EVERYWHERE

Father Hall paused, refilled and relighted his pipe. The twins were interested, but still somewhat puzzled. Just where was all this leading? They knew the priest never talked without purpose, but his purpose was not as clear as they’d like it to be.

He sensed their slight perplexity and resumed.

“Now, all this,” he said, “would be stupid platitude if it were not for one important fact: The whole world has gone simply mad about liberty and freedom at all cost. It is in wild and unreasonable revolt against law in almost every form. Men refuse to consider that God has a right to command. Of the laws of the State, they obey only those they like or those that don’t inconvenience them.

“Children are in open revolt against their parents. The conventions are being smashed right and left, as if they were not the fruit of generations of painful experience. Women resent even the slightest check on their freedom of conduct or dress or manner. Law is laughed at and ridiculed, and the Ten Commandments, the fundamental law of God and nature, are regarded as belonging to the period of the covered wagon, crinoline, and the blush.

HEADING FOR CHAOS

“Sometimes I think that the only power in the world today standing for law is the Catholic Church. And without law there is no freedom; there is only chaos and the crash of man against man. If order vanished from the heavens, Jupiter would go smashing into Mars, and the Milky Way would rush together in a catastrophe that would rock the universe.

“Order is disappearing from ear th, laws are being laughed at and openly flouted; and the world is headed right straight for such confusion and disorder and suffering and misery as it has never known before, if you, Dick and Sue, and the thousands of young men and women like you don’t realise that you have to earn freedom and deserve liberty. You have to hedge it tight with the careful guard of law.

“You are a savage roaming the prairies if you smash the laws. You are back to barbarism if you demand freedom without being willing to pay the price of freedom, which is respect and reverence for law.”

REBEL MAN

It was seldom that Father Hall spoke with such intense earnestness and feeling. His whole heart and soul seemed to be in his voice, and the twins sat looking at him in rapt attention. When he began again, his voice was lower in pitch but no less warm in intensity.

“Of course, the whole rebellion against law began when Adam decided by being law-breaker to become law-maker. ‘You shall be like gods.” It goes back a step farther than that, and rings out in Lucifer’s “I will not serve,” that flung glorious angels into hell.

“But it started its modern career when Luther rebelled against the Church and set up private interpretation of the Scrip—tures against the divinely commissioned voice of God’s representative. Immanuel Kant pushed it much further when he made the individual the judge of what is true and false and what is right and wrong.

“Voltaire, however, was the rebel who was most like Lucifer, brilliant in intellect, perverse in will, in love with his own powers and hating God’s laws. Christ, the Church, and all authority he lumped together in a single concentrated loathing.

AGAINST GOD

“Even the cleverest of the men who followed him failed to see clearly that by attacking the law of God they were attacking all law. For what possible force has law if there is no Supreme Lawgiver from Whom comes the authority to command, to demand obedience, to know clearly what is good for man and what detrimental, and to give the law His sanction? Men rebelled against the laws of the Church; then against the laws of the nation; then against the laws of nature; and, finally, against the laws of common decency.

OUT OF A DOLL’S HOUSE

“The rebellion started rolling rather slowly, but now it is moving with a terrifying rush. Ibsen’s famous Nora Helmar slammed the door of her husband’s doll’s house behind her and went out asserting the right of a woman to live her own life regardless of duty to home or family or children or her own purity. There is something typically modern about the fact that Ibsen, who created this pioneer of women rebels against law, treated his own wife as if she was little better than a squaw in an Indian’s wigwam.”

“I didn’t know that,” said Sue.

“Well, it’s true. Once when she made a comment about a play he was writing, he refused to speak to her for weeks. No woman had a right even to have a thought about a play. His fictional women were rebels. The women of his immediate family were doormats.”

Dick laughed appreciatively.

“Judging from his pictures, I”m not surprised.”

THE OPEN DOOR

“Well, once Nora had opened that door, a perfect army of rebellious women, in fiction, on the stage, in the films, and, regretfully we must admit it, in real life followed her through it. Rebellious heroines have been fashionable. Women made their own laws, lived their own lives, gave their precious love to any chance comer, shut the doors of life in the face of children, regarded the grand career of home-making as something too dull for their minds, which were engrossed in futile competition with men for things not worth having, with reforms that usually nobody wanted, with clubs that talked much about doing nothing, and with the intricacies of bridge and divorce.

RIDE THEM DOWN

“Then came Nietzsche to present as the really moral man the man who trampled the law under foot. His hero, the often cited Superman, drove his warhorse roughshod over his fallen enemies. Laws were for fools. Strong men smashed the laws as giants in their stride, crushed cottages and vineyards and children too young to escape their footfalls.

“Bernard Shaw, picker of other men’s brains, took up the battle cry of Nietzsche, and shouted vociferously: “The golden rule is that there is no Golden Rule.” I have sometimes wondered what the law-loving Christ thought of that.

“Oscar Wilde and Maupassant and Anatole France preached the theory that sin is the action of a truly brave man, and that the rebellious angels are the greatest heroes. The interpreters of Freud and Bertrand Russell and the immoralists and a-moralists taught that sex laws were balls and chains about the feet of an aspiring race. The anarchist in one breath cried out against the Ten Commandments and the sanitary laws of a big city.

ATTRACTIVE LAWBREAKERS

“Now, all this mad roar and ranting against law wouldn’t really hurt our young people if they did not actually see law being laughed at and broken everywhere. They watch the beautiful movie star laughingly violate, on the screen, the Sixth Commandment in the setting of a glamorous penthouse. The musical revue gets its laughs out of violations of the decencies. The smutty story, all too common on young lips, gets its fun out of adultery, lust, and the sins which reduce a man to the level of a prowling dog and a woman of the status of an alley cat. In the popular novels and plays heroes and heroines have claimed positive credit and sympathy for their broken laws. And the strong business man who wins success at all costs, is the hero whose name and later life is immortalised in great philanthropic enterprises financed with the millions he made smashing competitors and oppressing his employees.

HARD ON THE GOOD

“Well, what is going to happen? What has actually happened? The most funda mental laws of personal decency have been treated with such contempt that a girl still in love with her purity has almost to fight for that purity in a group of supposedly betterclass people. A girl who reverences her immensely precious dignity is treated as a prude. Isn’t she, Sue!”

“Yes,” replied Sue, very quietly.

“And a young man who sees no fun in muddling his brain with bad alcohol and developing the unsteady gait of a dancing bear and the uncontrolled instincts of a chimpanzee is regarded as a weakling when he refuses to drink. Isn’t he, Dick?”

“Yes,” Dick answered.

CURTAILING FREEDOM

“Why, a man is not free to invest in bonds any more, for fear some powerful, skilful crook at the top will feel justified in disregarding all the laws of business honesty, use the investors” money much more recklessly than if it were his own, and build up a crazy, wobbly tower of Babel as Ivan Kreuger did or Samuel Insull. People today hug their poor savings to their hearts, afraid to put them into the legitimate business of honest men, because they have seen the effects of the lawless scramble for wealth and power. Legitimate and honourable trade is not free to advance because of those who have violated every law of business integrity.

“Women who obey the laws of God and nature and with happy hearts bear chil dren are regarded as half-wits by the women who selfishly refuse society the increase it must have if it is not to disappear. Scrupulously honest men find the going too hard in competition with the trickery and law-shaving of clever rivals, backed by unscrupulous lawyers.

“Why, it is becoming positively difficult to live like a human being and act like a good citizen, because men and women have come to such a contempt for all law that they break it when and where it suits their whim and convenience.”

LAW IN HEAVEN

Father Hall suddenly stood up. They had not noticed it was already dark. He crossed the unlighted study, went to a window, and threw up the shade to its very top. There against the black velvet of the Christmas-tide sky burned the brilliant light of God’s stars.

“Look at them,” said Father Hall, gesturing in silhouette toward the heavens. “With magnificent order and law and rhythm they move on their limitless way. Stars hold their course; suns send their warmth to whole solar systems; great choruses of planets move through the perfect figures of an endless dance; gravity holds them in place, secure against accident or catastrophe. God’s natural law rules the heavens.”

Slowly he walked back into the room and switched on a low-powered lamp.

AND ON EARTH?

“Man moves through a world of perfect law and order. Seasons recur with measured regularity. From seed comes plant; from plant, seed in lawful succession. In the heart of the molecule is the orderly atom; in the heart of the atom an infinitesimal solar system that moves as regularly and as beautifully as the stars. Man’s body is a magnificent laboratory in which God’s laws work with consistent reliability, rebuilding, adding, sending blood to the part of the body that needs it, telegraphing along the intricate nervous system each pain or delight, giving him the power to people the world with his own kind.

“It is a world so law -bound that scientists talk of the universal, unchangeable natural law. Only when we come to man himself do we find a new element. Man is free to obey law or to attack it, to give his will proudly to authority or to defy it, to follow the law spoken to him in the clear voice of conscience or to fling his glove in the face of God.

FREE, YET NOT FREE

“Does that mean for a moment that man alone, of all God’s creatures, has no law for his nature? Absolutely no. Man is

God’s most precious creature, and after caring for all His less important creatures, He would not cast His sons and daughters adrift. It means only that God wishes, in the case of His sons and daughters, to be served, not as the stars and plants and animals serve Him, like slaves and bondsmen; He asks from men and women the free and willing service of love and obedience.

“He has left men free to violate His law, so that the y can freely and splendidly and with full consciousness give Him their grateful obedience.

“Oh, there are laws so clearly written into the nature of man that not all the smart writing of the modern pagan can obliterate them. The God Who gave laws to the satellites of Venus and to the seeds of corn and wheat and to the dog in the gutter is not likely to throw out His best creatures without the guidance and protection of law. He has given man laws, and man in his heart knows them. Even the doddering old grandfather, who, in “The Good Earth,” shouted after the courtesan brought as second wife to his son, “Harlot! There is a harlot in this house;” knew and recognised the law of purity.

FIERCE ATTACK

“All the arguments of the novelists and dramatists and philosophers of selfishness and greed and lust will never obliterate them. These may dominate the world of literature, and to some extent the world of thought today; they are loud in their outcry and clever in their beclouding of issues and truths. They are struggling to find every possible excuse for man to follow the easy law of the beast in his blood, rather than the splendid law of the angel in his soul. They have misled those of the older generation, who were only too willing to be misled, and have taken sides with the hot passion of youth against the less clamorous voice of reason. They are doing the world untold harm and youth the most frightful injustice. In the end they will go down into oblivion, and the law of God and nature will endure.”

The priest looked at the twins quietly, and for a few seconds drew silently on his pipe. Dick reached for a fresh cigarette, and then thought better of it, and sat back motionless. Sue never shifted her glance from the dim face of the priest. Then suddenly he smiled, and asked quietly, “Are you wondering why I am orating like this?”

Neither of the twins replied.

GUARD YOUR LIBERTY

“Because,” Father Hall continued, “I am desperately afraid you will use your newfound liberty to your own hurt. Too many of your companions and associates are using it and will use it-forgive me for saying it-to play fools. I have seen them do it. They use liberty as a chance to drink themselves stupid or into perilous temptations. They use it to go places where they know sin waits with fetid breath and ugly embrace. They use it to question the good judgment of mother and father, and their very right to command. They use it to forget that the principal purpose of school is class and chapel; its real objective a mental, physical, and spiritual training that will fit them for the pitiless struggle of life. It is not, by the remotest stretch of imagination, a rest sanatorium between weekends.

“They forget that this precious liberty is also the most destructive thing in the world if not used with the restraining guidance of law, and that the man or woman who in theory or practice comes to despise law and authority and to kick it aside is going to become an enemy of society, a rebel against God,and a mental and spiritual suicide. Do you see?”

“I think I do,” said Dick, slowly.

MEN, WOMEN, AND FOOLS

“You are given this precious liberty to do splendid things, and not stupid or ugly ones. You are always free to play a manly part. You are never free to play the fool. You are always free to be the gloriously womanly woman, the kind before whom every decent man stands with bowed head; you are not free to ape the manners or the dress or the postures of the women against whom, until recent times, the doors of decent homes were closed. And quite too many young men are using their liberty to act like fools, sailors on a spree, or unleashed animals; just too many young women are acting in a fashion that makes prostitution a vanishing profession.

PARALLEL

“Now, note carefully. If a man cannot become even a passable athlete unless he obeys the laws of the game and watches the laws of health, how, in heaven’s name, when he has cheapened his power of love by playing lover to every girl he meets at a dance, and has befuddled with the flavoured varnish of the bootlegger the brain which must be clear and keen for any sort of success in life-how can he hope to be a successful husband and father and professional or business man?

“If a girl cannot hope to succee d as a singer unless she learns the laws of voice and protects her throat against even the chance cold wind, how can she hope to train herself to be a pure wife and a worthy mother if she gives her lips in sham affection to men whose names she has just heard, and feels free to contaminate her body with the rough handling of chance companions?

“And how will the mothers and fathers of this coming generation dare to demand respect and reverence from their children when they know they have shown their own parents casual tolerance, and a cynical disregard of their wishes and commands?

HARD BUT SPLENDID

“As far as I personally am concerned, the law, in itself, means little to me. I feel toward it something as I feel toward five-finger exercises and the place-kick practice of early football season. But I am interested in the great pianist thrilling me with a concerto, and I do want to throw my hat in the air when the ball is kicked between the goal posts by the trained forward’s toe.

“And I do love to see a well -disciplined, carefully trained, personally organised, thoroughly reliable man or woman face life, and, because he or she has obeyed the rules of the game, win, with strong body and clean mind and vigorous will and an eye that can command because it has been clear-sighted enough to obey.

“Of course, what I am asking is hard, as everything worth while is hard-playing the violin well, being a star athlete, writing a great book, painting a great picture, performing a difficult task as an engineer. Of course, it is easier to break a law than to keep it, as it is easier to pull a rose bush to pieces than it is to raise it to full bloom. But it is easier to miss a field goal than to kick it, strike a discord than locate a fascinating new harmony, daub up a fence than paint the “Angelus,” let a business go to pot than organise a great corporation.

“Leave easy things to louts.”

NO MORE GOOD LIMES?

This time Dick took his cigarette and lighted it slowly before he spoke. At last he said:

“Then you mean you think we should give up all idea of a good time while we are young and just train ourselves by theobservance of law?”

Father Hall’s quick eye saw the grateful glance that passed from Sue to her twin. But he waved his hands almost wildly in protest.

“That’s just the sort of idea that sloppy modern thought is driving into young people’s heads. And the good Lord alone knows how violently ill it makes me. Who said anything about giving up a good time? I was talking about giving up a fool time. And I”m utterly dumbfounded that good and fool even sound alike.”

“But-” began Sue.

WHAT MAKES A GOOD TIME?

“Forgive the interruption,” said the priest, “but I confess I”m just a bit excited. I absolutely deny that a genuinely good time can be had except by obeying the law. I admit that many people nowadays have the same crazy ideas about a good time that the pagans had in Roman days, that a good time consists in drinking more than the stomach can hold or the brain govern, dancing utterly ugly dances to the rhythm of an African tom-tom, and-forgive me for saying it, because Tm sure you don’t indulge in it-in the promiscuous love-making and maudlin affection called necking.

“ If the human race, after all its centuries of civilisation and religion and education, has reached the point where it knows no good time above the level of a drunken sailor, an African cannibal in a blood orgy, or a stray gutter cat, the human race had better start making some laws to save itself from annihilation. If there is no good time except the one that precedes headaches and heartaches, that ruins digestion, corrupts manners, imperils innocence and purity, and devolutes the human race from men to animals, then I”m desperately sorry for this generation.

HAPPY THOUGH SANE.

“With all my soul I want you to have a good time. Go to the theatre and see every good play you can afford. Dance in a fashion that gives you joy and the spectators pleasure, peacefully and happily. Dress smartly and gracefully, but not like gangsters or gangsters” molls. Go with your friends and do interesting and amusing things and see interesting and amusing places. But come out from them with head erect and feet steady and body clean and eyes clear, and the laws of God and man still upright in your heart.”

Quietly Father Hall walked over and lowered the blind, which he had flung up in his hasty gesture. The twins sat silently looking at each other. When he had once more resumed his seat and was pulling quietly at his pipe, Dick spoke up.

“You win, Father.”

“In the concrete,” Sue added, “what do you want us to do?”

FREE TO DEVELOP

Father Hall’s smile was quick and grateful.

“Grand!” he exclaimed softly. “Proud of you!” And then, after a pause, “It’s really very simple. Use that precious liberty of yours to develop yourselves to splendid manhood and lovely womanhood.

“Use the fact that you are free, with this modern freedom granted youth, to give your mother and father the respect and obedience they do not demand. After all, they are older than you, wiser, have tested the laws of life, and know them from an experience as yet not yours. When they command it is not to hurt you, but to save you hurt.

“They make you few requests and give you few orders. Be big enough to give them freely a respectful obedience that they are too generous to force from you.”

“We will,” said Sue, very softly.

“Thousands of people today are measuring their conduct by the immediate thrill of the extra cocktail or the caress cheaply given and thoughtlessly taken. It’s a poor standard. Can’t you measure your conduct by what this act or its omission will mean to you ten years from now? You see, there are sanctions for every law that nature places upon its children; the world today is full of no-account, drifting college graduates, men and women, who are paying that sanction in ill-health, flabby wills, unfulfilled promise, momentary brilliance quickly extinguished, home and marriages quickly made and more quickly broken, children puzzled and resentful with their own parents, and an inability to enjoy anything beyond a new jazz record, a bottle of gin, a night at the Follies, a cheap magazine, new clothes, and a chance acquaintance with the current wisecracks of some night club.”

“We’ve seen them,” said Dick grimly. “But I had never thought of the context before.”

WHY OUTLAWED?

“If the laws for the conduct of young men and women when together seem strict, it is so that the love of married life will be fresh and vigorous and gloriously unspoiled. Half of the marriages today are wrecked before they begin. Neither party has anything but a secondhand, shopworn love to bring the other. Their emotions have been spoiled by lust before they have been glorified by love.

“The laws against evil reading often seem annoying. But they are really not half so annoying as the evil temptations that torture an imagination that has fed on smut, or the doubts and difficulties that dynamite the calm, glorious peace and security of faith.

“Please remember that the Ten Commandments are really God’s training rules for sturdy manhood and vigorous womanhood. The laws of nature are given for the perfect realisation of our natures. Drunkards, libertines, thieves (whether in apache caps or silk hats), the selfish and greedy, the literary man who loves the gutter and prefers the smart phrase to the true one, the man of affairs who sets his heart on power or gold, will never attain that perfectly realised nature. That is left for the saints.”

Nihil obstat:

F. MOYNIHAN, Censor Deputatus. lmprimatur:

@ DANIEL MANNIX,

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis.

********

Our Sacramental Life

REV. H. A. JOHNSTON, S.J

INDEX

THE FOOD OF OUR SOULS

THE sacraments, as we know, are outward signs; and they give the grace which they signify. The Blessed Eucharist is received under the outward form of eating and drinking, and this signifies that the effect produced in our souls is like that produced in our bodies and in our natural life by the food and drink which we take. Through the sacrament of Baptism we received supernatural life. Confirmation ratified the consecration given to our souls in Baptism, brought us into closer union with God, and called us to higher responsibilities in the supernatural order. Now every living being needs food, and the more active it is the more its energy needs to be restored and maintained by regular and suitable nourishment. This is none the less true of the supernatural life of the soul. We must grow in grace; we must have strength to practise high and difficult virtues; we must be able to resist those evil influences which are within us and all around us; and we must counteract what we may call the ordinary wear and tear to which we are subject-even spiritually-so long as we are on trial in this world.

We may, in a true sense, say that all sanctifying grace which we receive from God is food for our souls, because. by it our souls are strengthened and our supernatural life intensified. But God has given us one particular sacrament which is in a special sense the food of our souls, and the food which we receive in this sacrament is really and truly God Himself. Suppose that we had been allowed to plan for ourselves, and arrange the spiritual helps that were to be given to us to enable us to lead a holy life. Could we ever have dreamt that it would be possible for us to have our souls nourished by the very substance of Jesus Christ Himself’ And even if the possibility of such a thing had crossed our minds, could we have dared to hope or expect that God would give us such a gift? Even though His infinite goodness and love were known to us, could we have imagined that God, Who had taken our nature in order to be more closely united with us, would go still further and give Himself to each of us, individually, under the appearance of corporal food?

DO WE REALISE?

Let us imagine that we are telling this truth to someone who has never heard it before, a visitor-let us suppose- from another world. We first explain the conditions of our life on earth-our dependence on God, the absolute necessity of serving Him, and thus saving our souls, the difficulties, temptations, and dangers, to which we are exposed. The picture would, no doubt, appear a gloomy one, and our visitor might well judge our task to be a difficult one. But then we might go on to tell how it was possible for each Catholic to receive God Himself-Jesus Christ, true God and true Man-under the form of bodily food, and thus bring about a marvellously close union between God and his soul; and this, not once only, but over and over again-even daily. This hypothetical stranger might well say, “What, then, have you to complain of? If God Himself will come and make Himself one with you like that; if, weak and foolish as you may be, you can bring the strength and wisdom of God into your souls, surely that must make a great difference in your lives, and compensate for all its difficulties.” Have we fully realised this truth yet?

We read that the prophet Elias once fled into the wilderness from the wicked Jezebel. After travelling for a day, he threw himself down to die, and fell asleep under a juniper tree. While he slept an angel called him and said, “Arise and eat” He looked and saw a hearth cake and a vessel of water. He ate and drank, and fell asleep again. A second time the angel called him and said, “Arise and eat, for you have still a long way to go.” He ate and drank the second time, and then, we are told, “he walked in the strength of that food for forty days and forty nights till he reached the mountain of God, Horeb” (II Kings xix., 8). We are all travelling through the wilderness of this world to an eternal home. Lest we faint of hunger, God has provided us with food far more wonderful than that which sustained the courage and strength of the prophet till he reached the mountain of God.

We have, therefore, a spiritual food, than which no more perfect can be imagined, and no more perfect is possible. And this food is available for all. There are many people in the world, unfortunately, who cannot always get good food for their bodies, or cannot get enough; but no one need go hungry for this food of the soul. Perhaps we have not realised all that God has done for us in giving us ‘this sacrament. It may be that, just because we have always known of the gift of the Blessed Eucharist, having been familiar with it since childhood, we have come to take it too much for granted, and consequently do not appreciate either God’s Incomprehensible goodness in giving us this sacrament or the incalculable value it is to us.

WE MUST EAT TO LIVE

What does food do for us? It first of all keeps us alive. Deprive a living thing of food and it soon dies. When Our Lord first spoke of the Blessed Eucharist, He spoke of it as food and as giving life to the soul “‘The bread of God is that which comes down from heaven and gives life to the world. . . . I am the bread of life. He that comes to Me shall not hunger, and he that believes in Me shall never thirst. . . . I am the bread of life. Your fathers ate manna in the desert, and they are dead. This is the bread that comes down from heaven, that whoever eats of it may not die. I am the living bread that came down from heaven. If anyone eats of this bread he shall live for ever; and the bread that I shall give is My flesh, for the life of the world. . . . Unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink His blood you shall not have life in you. He that eats My flesh and drinks My blood has everlasting life, and I will raise him up on the last day. For My flesh is food indeed, and My blood is drink indeed. . . . As the living Father sent Me and I live by the Father, so he that eats Me shall also live by Me. . . . He that eats this bread shall live for ever” (St John vi., 33–59). We see how Our Lord insists on the necessity of eating this divine food if our supernatural life is to be maintained. As supernatural life is so much more precious to us than our natural life, we should be all the more careful that our souls are not deprived of the nourishment which God in His goodness has provided for them.

Food also makes us grow, so long as we have not attained our full natural size. In the same way, the Blessed Eucharist makes our souls grow in virtue. But while natural growth comes to an end when we reach a certain age, spiritual growth, fostered by the Blessed Sacrament, can-and should -go on as long as life lasts. Every Holy Communion we receive should help us to grow in supernatural virtue and in likeness to Jesus Christ, and thus make us more dear to God. As this growth will cease when our life on earth comes to an end, we should be greedy (we might almost say) to receive this sacred food as often as we possibly can.

HEALTH AND PROTECTION AGAINST DISEASE

Food, if it is good and abundant enough, makes us robust and healthy. Doctors tell us that a suitable and sufficient diet is the chief factor in securing good health. The Blessed Eucharist can do for our souls more than the most perfect natural food can do for our bodies. No one particular kind of natural food can be said to provide all that the body needs. But all the needs of our souls are fully provided for in this divine food which has been granted to us. Faith, hope, and charity, and all the other virtues whose presence shows that the soul is in a healthy state, are fostered and strengthened by reception of the Blessed Eucharist. Through this sacrament we obtain the spiritual vigour which makes us able to practise difficult virtues and work hard in God’s service. Obstacles that would ordinarily prove insurmountable become almost negligible for one who is well nourished with the “bread of the strong” which Christ provides at His banquet-table.

Good health carries with it the power to resist disease. Those who are ill-fed or run-down are the first to fall victims in an epidemic. The same thing happens to the soul. We are always liable to be infected by sin, by false principles, by wrong ideas, and by bad example; and bad habits easily take hold of us. But if our spiritual life is vigorous and healthy we are in less danger. That is why the Blessed Eucharist is the best protection against all those spiritual maladies to which we are subject. It is a real tonic for the soul, and is of particular value in strengthening and safeguarding those who are exposed to special difficulties or temptations.

In every part of our body there is constant waste going on, and this has to be made good by the food which we eat. Through the processes of digestion, food is changed into our living substance, and thus the different parts of our organism receive what is necessary for their renewal. In this respect the analogy between the Blessed Eucharist and our natural food is not exact. The various substances that make up our ordinary food are assimilated by us and thus changed into something different, and something of a higher kind. But we do not, of course, change Jesus Christ; rather does He change us into something better than we were, making us more like Himself by communicating to us some share in His divine life and virtues.

THE SACRAMENT OF JOY

Another effect of good food is that it produces cheerfulness and a general feeling of well-being, which contribute a great deal to our happiness in life. You do not expect one who is habitually hungry or under-fed to be very bright and happy. Soldiers without rations are not likely to have the courage that wins battles. The spirit of cheerfulness and joy is very necessary in the spiritual life also. Without it we shall not be able to continue for long practising virtues that are hard for human nature, and showing energy and generosity in God’s service. “A merry heart goes all the way, your sad tires in a mile-a,” as Shakespeare says. But there is nothing which can so comfort and strengthen the heart and inspire such supernatural courage and joy, as the Blessed Sacrament.

Through intimate association with Jesus Christ which Holy Communion brings, we gain a taste for spiritual things and an appreciation of the supernatural, which in turn enable us to resist the fascination of what is purely natural and earthly. “O sacrum convivium,” “O Sacred banquet,” are words which the Church uses about the Blessed Eucharist, and this banquet of Jesus Christ, while giving nourishment to our souls, also fills us with the spirit of cheerfulness, which makes it easy for us to bear our burdens gladly and serve God joyfully.

It is obvious that the Blessed Eucharist brings us into closest union with Jesus Christ, God and Man. The union we are thinking of is not the mere physical union, which lasts only a short time after we have received Holy Communion, but a spiritual, sacramental union between our souls and Jesus Christ, which lasts, and grows stronger and more intimate, every time we come to the Holy Table. It is this union which produces what is the most notable effect of this sacrament, an increase of love of Jesus Christ. There is nothing which can so powerfully help us to know and love Our Lord as to receive Him frequently and devoutly in Holy Communion. The love which is thus developed is no mere love of sentiment or feeling, but that true love which impels us to follow in the footsteps of our Master and work generously for the spread of His Kingdom.

ONCE MORE, DO WE REALISE?

If, therefore, we want our lives to be holy, happy, and truly successful, we have only to make good use of the wonderful food which Jesus Christ has provided for us. To starve through lack of food is a sad fate. But sadder still is to starve in the midst of plenty. While, therefore, we must sympathise with those who-through no fault of their own- are outside the true Fold and are thus deprived of this heavenly food, we must at the same time make sure that we ourselves appreciate it as we should. Since the beginning of the reign of Pope Pius X, the Church has been trying to re-establish among her children the practice of daily Communion, where it is possible. For a great many, of course, this is not possible; but once we even begin to realise the sublime nature of the gift, and the marvellous love and goodness of Him who has given it to us, the only answer we can give to the question, “How often should I receive Holy Communion?” is, “As often as I possibly can.” What would non-Catholics think of our conduct if, believing what we do about the Blessed Eucharist, we were to show ourselves indifferent to this wonderful gift, and to the love which prompted it? And how foolish we should be, from the point of view of our own interests if through negligence, we were to deny ourselves the help and grace which this sacrament can give, and which we so badly need!

A DIFFICULTY

But here a difficulty might present itself. If all that we have said about the value of sacrament is true (and how could a Catholic deny it?), how does it come about that, in spite of frequent Communions, we do not see the manifest effects in our lives? There are two answers to be given. First, the effects produced may be very real and very noteworthy without our being able always to recognise them. Spiritual results are not always easy to estimate, and a wise director must be consulted before we decide that our Holy Communions are not doing us any good. But if it is true that we are not receiving from frequent Communion all the benefit that we should receive, we must bear in mind that the fault is not in the food, but in the one that eats it. There is a striking passage early in the sixth chapter of St. Mark’s Gospel. Our Lord had gone, in the course of His public life, on a visit to Nazareth. We may be sure that He had a special affection for this town and for its people, among whom He had lived for so many years. We should have expected that He would work His greatest miracles here. But He did not. St. Mark makes the extraordinary statement that “He could not do any miracles there, only that He cured a few that were sick.” Why could He not work miracles in Nazareth, as elsewhere? Was He not all-powerful? The answer is given immediately in the sentence that follows, “He wondered because of their unbelief.”

THE ANSWER

If, then, Jesus comes to us frequently, and yet there are no miracles of grace worked in our souls, we have to see whether in our case, too, the explanation is not that there is something wanting in our dispositions. Besides frequent Communion, we must insist on fervent Communions. The mere physical presence of Jesus Christ within us is not sufficient to sanctify us. Even a sinner can receive Holy Communion and profit nothing by it; instead, in the strong words of St. Paul, he “eats judgment of condemnation.” What benefits us is the sacramental union between our souls and Jesus Christ, and this is the closer and the more productive of results, the more perfect are our dispositions. We should, therefore, when we come to Holy Communion, make a real effort to excite within us a vivid faith, a deep humility, a strong tryst, and an earnest desire. The number of those who receive this sacrament is great, but very different are the results which are produced in different souls. Why is that? The sacrament is the same for all, and the power and love of Christ can never be exhausted; but the dispositions of the recipients vary very much, and with the dispositions the graces which the sacrament confers.

We read in the Gospels that Our Lord was once making His way through a great crowd which had gathered to hear and see Him. A woman who was there, and who had been afflicted with an ailment for twelve years, spending all her money on doctors without result, said to herself that if she could only get close and touch His cloak she would be healed. She made her way through the crowd and as He passed stretched out her hand and touched the hem of His cloak; and instantly she was cured. Our Lord turned and said, “Who is it that touched Me?” Peter and others replied, “What do You mean by that, Lord? See, the crowd is pressing close about You on all sides.” But Jesus said, “Someone has touched Me, for I feel that power has gone out from Me.” It was true that many were touching Our Lord; but one woman touched Him with firm faith and earnest desire, and at once the divine power produced effects in her which none of the others experienced. It is with the same faith and desire that we must try to receive Our Lord when He comes to us in Holy Communion. Then we, too, shall experience the effects of His power in our souls.

FREQUENT COMMUNION AT SCHOOL

A word of special warning may be useful for boys and girls in Catholic boarding-schools. For them, frequent and daily Communion is easy; they have to make, ordinarily, no particular effort or sacrifice in order to receive Our Lord as often as they wish. This opportunity for frequent Communion is, without doubt, a great blessing. But it also has its dangers. What we can get too easily we may not value highly enough. When it costs us little trouble to receive the sacraments there is danger that we may find ourselves receiving them through routine, just because we have got into the habit of it, and not because of the value which we set upon the sacraments and the positive desire for them which we have. If this happened at school, the result would be, in the first place, that the sacraments would not produce, at a most important period of life, all the fruits that they could produce, because the dispositions of the recipients would be very imperfect; and, furthermore, when school days were past and it was not so easy to receive the sacraments, little effort, perhaps, might be made to keep up frequent Communion. It is important, therefore, that those who, at school, have abundant opportunities of receiving the sacraments should develop a real, personal, and independent appreciation of them for their own sake, and not allow this appreciation to be overgrown by habit and routine.

PREPARATION AND THANKSGIVING

It is clear, then, that if we are to profit by our Holy Communions we must be diligent in preparation. We owe this duty, also, out of respect for and gratitude to Jesus Christ. When Our Lord once dined with a Pharisee named Simon, He drew attention to the fact that His host had not given Him any of the signs of respect and courtesy commonly shown to guests. We must take care that we do not merit the same reproach when He comes to us in Holy Communion, and must be ready to show Him all the respect and love of which we are capable. It requires an effort in order to excite within us the dispositions of faith, humility, and desire with which we should receive Holy Communion, but if we think of the dignity and the generosity of the Guest Who is coming to us, surely the effort will not be so hard to make.

Our thanksgiving after Holy Communion we should regard as a sacred duty. It is not right, in ordinary circumstances, to leave the church immediately after a Mass at which we have received Holy Communion. Our first thoughts should be for Our Lord Himself, as we adore Him, thank Him, humble ourselves before Him, renew our loyalty to Him, and make acts of self-surrender. Then we may recall what wonderful results the sacrament is meant to produce in our souls, and excite our desires and our confidence. This time immediately after Holy Communion is very precious, for never in this life shall we have Our Lord closer to us.

But our preparation for Holy Communion and our thanksgiving afterwards should not be confined to a short period immediately before and after the reception of the sacrament. The more we can extend them, the better will be our dispositions and the greater our profit. When going about our ordinary duties, and at our ordinary prayers, we can look forward to our next Holy Communion with sentiments like these: “O Jesus, I am going to receive You tomorrow (or next Sunday, or whatever the day may be). I long to be united to You. I need You. Prepare me to receive You.” In the same way, we can look back to our last Communion and try to realise better Our Lord’s great love for us, and the graces He has given us, and resolve to do our part to bring about the fulfilment of His promise, “He that eats Me shall live by Me.”

THE ABIDING PRESENCE

The Blessed Eucharist differs from other sacraments in that the others are passing actions which leave only their effects behind, whereas in the’ Blessed Eucharist there is something permanent, the abiding presence of Our Lord- Emmanuel, God with us. As God, Jesus Christ is everywhere, but as Man He is in heaven and wherever the Blessed Sacrament is reserved. We believe this, of course, but we must make sure that our belief has an influence on our life and actions. We may sometimes be inclined to envy the shepherds who came and found the Infant God in a stable at Bethlehem, or the people Who lived near the Holy Family in Nazareth, or those who listened to the teaching of Jesus Christ on the hill-slopes and by the Lake of Galilee, or the sick who were carried to Him that He might lay His hands upon them. But we need not envy them. The same Jesus Christ lives with us, hidden indeed, but really present-with the same loving heart and the same divine power to bless and help. Should our faith not impel us to visit the Blessed Sacrament frequently, with love and confidence? Think of how people flocked to Him while He was on earth in visible form. We cannot see Him, of course, as they did, but He has told us Himself that we are all the more blessed on that account, because of the merit which faith brings us.

SUMMARY

The excellence of this divine food.

The difference it should make in our lives.

The effects of food:

It maintains life;

It makes us grow;

It gives health and protection against disease;

It makes good the wastage that goes on in our organs;

It promotes a feeling of well-being.

The Blessed Eucharist brings us into closest touch with Jesus Christ, and increases love.

How often should we receive Holy Communion?

A difficulty and its answer.

Frequent Communion at school.

Preparation and thanksgiving.

The abiding presence of Our Lord with us in the Blessed Sacrament.

THE ADMINISTRATION OF HOLY COMMUNION

Holy Communion is an integral part of the sacrifice of the Mass. The priest must consume the Sacred Host and the Precious Blood when offering the sacrifice, and in early times all those who assisted at Mass partook of the Victim there offered. The normal time for receiving Holy Communion, therefore, is during Mass, and in this way we share most intimately in the Holy Sacrifice.

When Holy Communion is to be distributed during Mass, after the priest has consumed the Precious Blood the server bows down and recites the Confiteor in the name of those who are to receive the sacrament The priest then takes the ciborium from the tabernacle and, turning towards the people, says:

May Almighty God have mercy on you, and forgiving you all your sins lead you to eternal life. Amen. May mercy, absolution, and remission of your sins be granted you by the almighty and merciful Lord. Amen. (Then, taking the ciborium and holding up a Host, that it may be seen by all, the priest says:) Here is the Lamb of God, Who takes away the sins of the world.

Lord, I am not worthy that You should enter under my roof, but only say a word and my soul will be healed (three times).

(When placing the Host on the tongue of the recipient, the priest says:)

May the Body of Our Lord Jesus Christ guard your soul for everlasting life.

(If Holy Communion is not being distributed during Mass, but immediately before or after, or at some other time, the following prayers are added:)

O sacred banquet, in which Christ is received, the memory of His Passion is recalled, the soul is filled with grace, and a pledge of future glory is given us.

You have given them bread from heaven. (Answer) Having in it all kind of delight.

O Lord, hear my prayer. (Answer) And let my cry come to You.

The Lord be with you. (Answer) And with you.

Let us pray.

O God, You have given us under a wonderful sacrament a memorial of Your Passion; grant us, we pray, so to venerate the sacred mysteries of Your Body and Blood that we may constantly experience in us the fruit of Your redemption, living and reigning for ever and ever. Amen.

(When the tabernacle door has been closed, the priest gives the following blessing:)

May the blessing of Almighty God, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, come down upon you and remain always. Amen.

SPIRITUAL COMMUNION

Besides sacramental Communion there is what is called “spiritual Communion,” which means receiving Holy Communion in desire when it is not possible to receive it actually. A spiritual Communion can, be made at Mass when it is not possible to receive sacramentally, when one is visiting the Blessed Sacrament, or at any other time. No particular form of words is required. This may serve as an example: “O Jesus, I believe that You are really present in the Blessed Eucharist; I wish I could now receive You sacramentally; come into my soul and fill it with Your grace.” Just as with sacramental Communion, so with spiritual Communion, we profit the more by it the better are the dispositions which we excite within us. Spiritual Communion is a good preparation for sacramental Communion, and an excellent way of carrying on our thanksgiving afterwards. It is a particularly useful practice for those who have few opportunities of sacramental Communion.

REQUISITE DISPOSITIONS

Food cannot benefit the dead, and Holy Communion can be profitably received only by one who is in the state of grace. To receive Holy Communion deliberately in the state of mortal sin is to commit a great sacrilege. Furthermore, if mortal sin has been committed. sacramental confession must precede reception of the Blessed Eucharist; an act of perfect contrition, though restoring sanctifying grace, would not suffice as preparation for Holy Communion.

Nothing whatever in the nature of food or drink must have been taken during the prescribed fast if a person wishes to receive Holy Communion. It does not matter whether it is taken intentionally or unintentionally. This law is to be interpreted strictly, but not in a foolish or scrupulous manner. Where there is a difference between local time, true solar time and standard time, we may follow whichever we like in estimating midnight.

In certain circumstances Holy Communion may be received by one who has not kept the fast. Two practical cases are:

1. When Holy Communion is received as Viaticum the law of fast does not bind. It should also be noted that Viaticum may be received by one who has already received Holy Communion in the ordinary way the same day.

2. If a person has been laid-up for a month, and has no certain expectation of speedy recovery, Holy Communion may be received-on the prudent advice of the confessor-once or twice a week, even if medicine (liquid or solid) or liquid food has been taken.

PART OF THE DECREE ON FREQUENT COMMUNION

(December 20th, 1905.)

Frequent and daily Communion, as a thing most earnestly desired by Christ Our Lord and by the Catholic Church, should be open to all the faithful, of whatever rank and condition of life; so that no one who is in the state of grace, and who approaches the Holy Table with a right and devout intention, can lawfully be hindered therefrom.

A right intention consists in this, that he who approaches the Holy Table should do so, not out of routine, or vainglory, or human respect, but for the purpose of pleasing God, of being more closely united with Him by charity, and of seeking this divine remedy for his weaknesses and defects.

Although it is most expedient that those who communicate frequently or daily should be free from venial sins, at least from such as are fully deliberate, and from any affection thereto, nevertheless it is sufficient that they be free from mortal sin, with the purpose of never sinning in future; and if they have this sincere purpose, it is impossible but that daily communicants should gradually free themselves even from venial sins, and from all affection thereto.

But whereas the Sacraments of the New Law, though they ,take effect of their own intrinsic power,* nevertheless produce a greater effect in proportion as the dispositions of the recipient are better, therefore care is to be taken that Holy Communion be preceded by careful preparation, and followed by a suitable thanksgiving, according to each one’s strength, circumstances, and duties.

That the practice of frequent and daily Communion may be carried out with greater prudence and more abundant merit, the confessor’s advice should be asked. Confessors, however, are to be careful not to dissuade anyone from frequent and daily Communion, provided that he is in the state of grace and approaches with a right intention.

But since it is plain that, by the frequent or daily reception of the Holy Eucharist, union with Christ is fostered, the spiritual life more abundantly sustained, the soul more richly endowed with virtues, and an even surer pledge of everlasting happiness bestowed on the recipient, therefore parish priests, confessors, and preachers, in accordance with the approved teaching of the Roman Catechism, are frequently, and with great zeal, to exhort the faithful to this devout and salutary practice.

POINTS FOR CONSIDERATION OR DISCUSSION

If I were allowed by God to choose food for my soul, could I find anything better than the food He has actually given me?

In what part of the Gospels does Our Lord tell us of the Blessed Eucharist and its effects?

We do not neglect our bodily food. Are we as careful to attend to the nourishment of our souls? Is it more important to have a healthy body or a healthy soul?

There are many virtues hard to practice. Do I think it will make a difference if I often bring Our Lord into close union with my soul in Holy Communion?

*The technical expression is, ex opera operate

Am I really convinced of the value of the Blessed Eucharist to my soul? Do I show it by receiving Holy Communion as often as I can?

“But I don’t feel any better when I receive Holy Communion.” What have I to say in answer to this objection?

Could I quote from the Gospels examples to show that Our Lord requires certain dispositions in the recipients of His favours?

My preparation and thanksgiving -are they in accord with what I believe about the Blessed Eucharist?

It is often found that many in our congregations who have received Holy Communion leave the church immediately after Mass is over. What do I think of such conduct?

Do I frequently -or ever-make spiritual Communions?

Am I clear about the law of fasting before Holy Communion, and do I know any common exceptions?

The six paragraphs quoted from the Decree on Frequent Communion all provide useful matter for consideration. They give the authoritative teaching of the Church on the subject.

Do I see any connection between the Blessed Eucharist -where the children of God eat the same food at the same table-and the virtue of charity?

I can reflect on the following verse of one of the eucharistic hymns of St. Thomas Aquinas. It is a summing up of what Our Lord is to us:

At birth He gave Himself as our companion, at table as our food, in death as the price of redemption, in glory He gives Himself as reward.

.

Se nascens dedit socium,

Convescens in edulium,

Se moriens in pretium,

Se regnans dat in praemium.

The Sacrifice of the Mass*

The offering of the sacrifice of the Mass is the most important action which takes place on this earth. Yet this is a fact which often is not recognised. Let us, therefore, make an effort to understand the Mass and its importance.

THE NATURE OF SACRIFICE

A sacrament, as we have seen, is an outward sign which indicates and produces a spiritual effect-namely, the sanctification of souls. A sacrifice is an outward rite which indicates a consecration or dedication of ourselves to God. Sacrifice is the greatest act of worship which men can offer to God. We are bound, as creatures, to make open acknowledgment of God’s unique position as Creator, which involves His supreme rights over us and our entire dependence on Him, and to pay Him honour as the one self-existent Being, infinitely perfect and the source of all reality and all good. In sacrifice man takes something that he Prizes and surrenders it or makes it over to God, meaning by the surrender and consecration of his gift to symbolise his own consecration to God and thus to acknowledge that man, with everything that he has, belongs entirely to God, and is completely at His disposal, and also to make reparation for offences which he has committed against God.*

We see, therefore, that sacrifice is an act of worship which can be paid to God alone. There is only one God, Creator and Lord of all things, and to Him alone this supreme act of worship can be offered. We can admire and praise creatures; we can ask their help and express gratitude to them; but we offer sacrifice and adoration to God alone.

*The Blessed Eucharist is a sacrament; but it is a sacrament which comes to us through the sacrifice of the Mass; and the reception of the Blessed Eucharist is an, integral part of that sacrifice. Hence it is that a talk on the sacrifice of the Mass naturally finds a place among these talks on the Sacraments.

*Properly speaking, sacrifice is a public act of external worship, offered by a duly appointed and authorised official, a priest.

ANCIENT SACRIFICES

Going back in history, we find that sacrifice has always been offered, even among those who had only an imperfect knowledge of God and of His nature. The ancient Egyptians. Greeks, and Romans, all had temples and altars of sacrifice. As soon as men realised, however imperfectly, the existence and rights of a Supreme Being, at once nature impelled them to offer to this Being a peculiar mark of homage and respect, which took the form of sacrifice. The offering of sacrifice, therefore, is something that is natural to man.

The very first pages of Holy Scripture show us men offering sacrifice. When, later in human history, God had chosen one particular people as the guardian of the revelation which He made to mankind. Sacrifice occupied a most important place in the organised worship of God. Very precise instructions were given by God concerning the sacrifices to be offered by the Jews, the rites which were to accompany them, and the priests who were to offer them.

These sacrifices of the Old Law-oxen, sheep, and goats, and the fruits of the field-were, of course, very imperfect, and far from worthy of the God to Whom they were offered. But they were the best that man could offer, and when they were offered with the right dispositions God accepted them, partly out of consideration for the goodwill of those who offered them, but chiefly because these sacrifices looked forward to and prepared the way for another, a perfect sacrifice, that was to come.

A PERFECT SACRIFICE

A perfect sacrifice! Could this ideal be realised? Could man, with all his limitations and imperfections, ever hope to offer a perfect sacrifice to his Creator? Yet a worthy sacrifice was needed. Through original sin the human family had been estranged from God, and had lost the very precious supernatural gifts which He had bestowed. How could that sin be atoned for and the lost heritage regained? Man by himself was powerless to recover what had been lost.

“0 the depth of the riches and of the wisdom and of the knowledge of God! How inscrutable are His judgments, and how untraceable His ways!” (Rom. xi., 33.) God had a plan by which mankind should be able to offer a perfect sacrifice to God’s majesty, and thus make complete reparation for sin and bring about peace between the creature and his Creator.

The Second Person of the Blessed Trinity became Man in order to offer to Almighty God, as high-priest and representative of the human race, a perfect sacrifice, the sacrifice of Himself, the Lamb without spot. He was Man, and therefore could speak and act for us; He was also Son of God, and therefore all His actions were supremely acceptable to His Father. His sacrifice was an absolutely perfect sacrifice, and of infinite value, because the priest who offered it was God as well as Man,, and because the Victim offered was divine.

OUR SACRIFICE

Through that perfect sacrifice of Jesus Christ on Calvary atonement was made for the sin of mankind, peace was restored between God and man, the treasures of divine grace were opened to us, and we obtained a right to eternal life with Jesus Christ in the kingdom of His Father. Our Lord might have wished His sacrifice to end there (for nothing could be added to that perfect sacrifice), and leave us the memory of it, together with the graces it had won for us. But, in His great love for us, He determined to make it possible for His children throughout all time to associate themselves in the most intimate way with the great sacrifice of redemption. And so, having made Himself a Victim on the Cross, it was His plan to remain a Victim always, and to continue to offer Himself in sacrifice every day through the priests of His Church, to whom He gave the power of doing what He, the great high-priest, had done.

THE MASS AND CALVARY

It was at the Last Supper that this sacrifice of the New Law was instituted. There Jesus Christ changed bread and wine into His body and blood, using expressions that were associated with the offering of sacrifice: “This is My body which is given for you,” and “This is My blood of the New Covenant which is poured out for you for the remission of sins” (Matt. xxvi., 28; Luke xxii., 19). Thus He looked forward to the actual shedding of His blood, which _ was to take place next day, and made then, in anticipation, the bloodless offering of the Victim which would be immolated on the Cross. At the same time He charged His Apostles to do what He had done-that is, to make the same offering in the same way, in memory of Him. In obedience to that command the sacrifice of the Mass is offered daily on our altars, and will be offered without cessation till the end of time. From this it will be clear that the Mass is not a different sacrifice from that of the Supper and Calvary. Just as that offering at the Last Supper of the Victim to be immolated next day made one sacrifice with Calvary, so our offering of the same Victim at Mass, in the same way as Christ offered and at His command, makes one sacrifice with Calvary. The Mass presupposes the immolation on the Cross, and as a sacrifice would be meaningless and profitless without it.

For the same reason there is no question of adding anything to the sacrifice of Calvary; that would be both unnecessary and impossible. But Our Lord has put it in our power to offer this same sacrifice again and again, by remaining always our Victim, and being really present on our altars as a Victim, in order that we might be able to get closer to our Redeemer and share more fully in the merits of redemption. Just as there is only one sun, but it must shine every day, so there is only one sacrifice of redemption, but that we offer and make our own every day.

THE MEANING OF THE MASS

The first thing, then, about the Mass which we have to realise and keep clearly before us is that it is a sacrifice, and consequently the greatest and holiest act of religion which we could perform. We must guard against the mistake of looking upon it merely as a devotional exercise, as a set of prayers, or even as an opportunity for adoring and honouring Our Lord in the Blessed Sacrament. This would be to misunderstand its real meaning and value. The mention of sacrifice sends some people’s minds back immediately to the Old Testament, as if sacrifices belonged only to it and came to an end with it. Those sacrifices were only types and promises; we have the great reality to which they were leading. If someone stopped me on the way to Mass and asked me what I was going to do, the right answer would be, “I am going to offer sacrifice to God.”

Even a sympathetic Protestant writer (Augustine Birrell) was struck by the grandeur and helpfulness of this doctrine. “If,” he once wrote, “the Incarnation be indeed the one divine event to which the whole creation moves, the miracle of the altar may well seem its restful shadow cast over a dry and thirsty land for the help of man, who is apt to be discouraged if perpetually told that everything really important and interesting happened, once for all, long ago, in a chill historic past.”

Secondly, the sacrifice which we offer is the one great sacrifice by which Christ redeemed us. We could not all be an Calvary when Christ died for us (and perhaps it is as well that we were not there, for most of those present were there to scoff), but we can all be at Mass-and not once but many times. When we are at Mass, it is just the same, in reality, as if we were kneeling beneath the Cross on which Christ died for us. The surroundings are different; the reality is the same. The same Victim is being offered to God, and the same great Priest is offering the sacrifice through the hands of the Church and of the human priest, whom He has appointed to carry on His work in His name. We have, therefore, in the holy sacrifice of the Mass a treasure which we could never exhaust, and one whose value, in spite of all our efforts, we shall never fully appreciate.

THE FOUNDATION OF OUR FAITH

This wonderful sacrifice of the New Law had been foretold long before. Malachy, the last of the prophets, about 400 years before the birth of Christ, had reproached the Jewish people, in God’s name, for their ingratitude and infidelity, and their priests for negligence in offering the prescribed sacrifices. He foretold that a new sacrifice, a bloodless oblation, would be offered to God among the Gentiles (that is, outside the Jewish race), in every part of the world, from the rising to the setting of the sun (Mal. i., 11). The sacrifice of the Mass is the fulfilment of that prophecy.

We could at this point turn to the early Christian writers and find evidence that the sacrifice of the Mass was the chief act of worship of the Church from the very beginning. We could, as in the case of the doctrine of the Real Presence, point to the fact that the Nestorians and Monophysites, for example, who left the Church in the first half of the fifth century, hold the same doctrine about the Mass as the Catholic Church. But once more I want to insist-for it is a point of supreme importance-that the ordinary Christian cannot be expected to be able to weigh arguments from early Church history or be a learned Scripture scholar. If, in order to find the truth which Christ taught, everyone had to decide for himself the correct interpretation of Scripture texts, and investigate such questions as the history of the Monophysites and Nestorians, most of us would have to reconcile ourselves to remaining in ignorance.

Why is there so much confusion in the religious world today? Simply because people have been deceived by the introduction of the false principle of private judgment. God’s plan for teaching us the truth is different. He established a Church to which He gave the commission, “Teach all nations to observe the things which I have commanded”; and this commission was to hold good till the end of the world. Since Christ was God, and able to do what He promised, you may be sure that you will find His. Church today speaking with one voice and with authority, and conveying to us the clear, definite, and unchanging truth which Christ taught. Therefore it is on the teaching of Christ’s Church that we chiefly rely when we believe that the Saviour of the world at the Last Supper instituted the Mass as the sacrifice of the New Law.

WHY SACRIFICE IS OFFERED

Sacrifice is offered for four main ends: to adore and praise God, to thank Him for His infinite goodness, to make satisfaction for our sins, and to obtain from God all that we need. As creatures, our first duty is to adore and reverence God, our Creator. But since no effort of ours could ever show the honour and reverence which are really due to the Divine Majesty, Jesus Christ, our Saviour, comes to our assistance in the holy sacrifice of the Mass. Every act of worship He offers is infinitely pleasing to His Father; and thus in the Mass we have the means of honouring God as He deserves to be honoured, when we offer to Him in sacrifice a Victim fully worthy of His acceptance.

We have also to thank God for all His goodness and mercy. But how can we possibly pay the debt of gratitude which we owe? Our weakness and poverty are again an obstacle. But in the Mass Jesus Christ offers to God, and we offer, a gift that is precious enough to pay all our debt. It is, of course, through God’s own bounty that we are able to offer a gift,* but yet He takes what Christ has enabled us to offer as coming from us.

Again, we have insulted and dishonoured God by disobedience and sin. The distance between Creator and creature, which magnifies the enormity of the sin, at the same time prevents us making due reparation. Nothing we could do would make adequate satisfaction to God for our wickedness and ingratitude. Once more Jesus Christ has come to our help. He has always done His Father’s will most perfectly, and has no sin of His own to atone for; and in the Mass He continues the offering of Himself, begun in His earthly life, as a Victim of reparation for our sins. He asks His Father, out of regard for the perfect obedience and submission which He always showed, to pardon us all our offences. We all have, indeed, much to atone for, and much reparation to make before we could be worthy to be admitted to the presence of God; but in the sacrifice of the Mass we can rejoice in having the opportunity of making complete satisfaction to God for all our misdeeds.

We depend on the bounty of God, and must look to Him for all those gifts and graces which we so badly need. But we have, at the same time, little claim on God’s goodness, since we have been ungrateful in the past and have misused many of God’s gifts. But, again, in our daily sacrifice Jesus Christ takes our place and pleads for us. Though our prayers might well be ineffectual on account of our unworthiness, anything He asks will be granted. And on our altars He is at once Priest and Victim, “always living to make intercession for us” (Hebr. vii., 25). The Mass is, indeed, a treasure, and an inexhaustible treasure. There is no limit to the graces we may receive through it if we offer our sacrifice with the right dispositions, remembering what Jesus Christ is doing for us on the altar, and uniting our will and intention with His.

MASS AND HOLY COMMUNION

Holy Communion is an integral part of the sacrifice of the Mass. In the Old Law, when the sacrifice was of the kind called a peace-offering, those who offered the sacrifice always ate part of the victim. In this way they were identified more closely with the victim and became guests, so to speak, at God’s table. It might be thought that in our great

*Compare the prayer which immediately follows the Consecration at Mass: “We offer to Your Supreme Majesty, of Your own gift and granting, a pure Victim, a holy Victim, an unspotted Victim. . . .” sacrifice such a thing would be impossible: But, though the Victim which we offer is such a holy one, we, too, are allowed, when we offer sacrifice, to approach the altar and partake of the Victim. In this way we share more fully in the sacrifice, identify ourselves more closely with the Victim offered, and are brought into closer union with God. That is why it is the wish of the Church that, when possible, we should receive Holy Communion when we hear Mass. And then, when we go away from Mass after receiving Holy Communion, we should remember that, as we have been not merely offerers of this great sacrifice along with Jesus Christ, but also victims, in a sense, with Him, our lives are, therefore, consecrated in a new way to God and to His glory. Through Mass and Holy Communion we are drawn into closer fellowship with Jesus Christ- become more identified with Him; and it is for this that God has created us.

OBLIGATION OF HEARING MASS

When we understand the nature of the sacrifice of the Mass, we can see why the Church imposes on Catholics as one of their chief obligations attendance at Mass on Sundays and Holydays. Let us suppose that a king took pity on a section of his people that gained a precarious living in a barren region of his dominions and transferred them to a fruitful island that had formed a part of the royal domains. He appointed his son their prince, and gave them their lands free. But each year, on the appointed day, they were to assemble, and through their prince do homage to the king and present a gift in token of their indebtedness. If any deliberately stayed away from this assembly, it would be taken as a refusal to acknowledge the king’s authority and show the gratitude due to his generosity. So it is with Sunday Mass. We owe more honour and gratitude to God than we could tell. The Church bids us come together each Sunday and offer to the infinitely great and good God, through His Son, the homage of sacrifice. To be absent through our own fault is not only to disobey the Church but to fail in our chief duty of reverence and gratitude to our Creator.

WEEK-DAY MASS

At the same time we should not regard the hearing of Mass merely as an obligation to be fulfilled; nor should we be satisfied with doing merely what is of strict obligation. Since the Mass is such a treasure, and such a sublime and holy thing, surely it is natural that we should be anxious to be present at the offering of this great sacrifice as often as possible. It may cost us something; but if we realise the generosity of Jesus Christ in making Himself a Victim for us, and realise the sublimity of this sacrifice itself, we should think little of the trouble it may cost us to be present sometimes at week-day Mass.

If we can offer Mass every day, so much the better. There is nothing holier that we could do, and there is no other act that will bring such a blessing upon our lives. There are many, indeed, who do make use of their opportunities of attending daily Mass. But there are others who have opportunities, but never think of going to Mass except on Sundays. Why? It is because they have never really understood, or have never seriously considered, what the Mass really is. Their faith is not real enough.

If we cannot be at Mass every day, but only occasionally, we should remember that every Mass is precious and we should not miss any opportunity. There are many who lead busy lives, but think nothing of staying up half the night, or longer, for purposes of amusement. Is it too much to expect them to get up three-quarters of an hour earlier than usual, occasionally, in order to join with Jesus Christ in the great act of worship which He is offering for them?

THE MASS IN OUR LIVES

Those who find that they cannot hear Mass more frequently than they have been doing can at least make sure that in future they will hear Mass with more devotion, based on a deeper understanding and appreciation of its real worth. The Mass is the greatest thing in the world. A Catholic should, therefore, esteem the Mass above everything else. Whatever devotions we may cultivate as a help to our spiritual life, first of all must come a true devotion to the Mass.

It is because the Son of God made Himself a Victim for us and for our salvation that we now possess supernatural life and the blessings which accompany it, and can look forward to an eternity of happiness -with God. From Jesus Christ and from His sacrifice comes every grace we have received ever shall receive. Therefore the Mass, being not the mere memorial of the sacrifice by which our redemption was accomplished, but that sacrifice itself perpetuated, should be the very centre of our lives. Through that holy sacrifice we can best fulfil our duty of worshipping God; through it we can best pay the incalculable debt of gratitude which we owe; through it we can best make reparation for ingratitude and sin; and through it we can best secure those graces which we need that we may faithfully do God’s will and save our souls.

SUMMARY

What sacrifice is.

Sacrifices of the Old Law.

The sacrifice of Jesus Christ.

The sacrifice which we offer.

Relation between the Mass and Calvary.

What the Mass is.

Why we believe the doctrine of the Mass.

Why we offer sacrifice.

Relation between Holy Communion and Mass.

Obligation of hearing Mass.

Daily Mass.

THE OBLIGATION OF HEARING MASS

As the worship of God is the chief duty of a creature, and the offering of sacrifice is the chief expression of that worship, we are bound to take part in the offering of the sacrifice of the Mass. The Church makes the obligation more precise and determined by binding us to assist at Mass on Sundays and on some other important festivals. This is our primary duty as Catholics, and it is one which we should fulfil with great fidelity, and even with enthusiasm.

While it is true that we substantially fulfil our obligation by hearing the main portion of the Mass, still it should be kept in mind that we are bound to hear the whole Mass. To miss even a lesser portion of Sunday Mass deliberately or through carelessness is a venial sin.

The law of hearing Mass on Sundays does not bind when there is a proportionately grave reason to excuse us. Illness, necessity of looking after the sick or young children, and distance, are some examples of excusing reasons. The distance that will excuse varies, of course, with circumstances. A journey that would be a serious difficulty if made on foot might be nothing at all in a motor car. A reasonable estimate is that in ordinary circumstances a walk of three miles or so, or a journey of about an hour, would be sufficient to excuse a person from going to Mass.

But a good Catholic, who regards the hearing of Mass not merely as an obligation but as the greatest of privileges, will not look eagerly for excuses for staying away from Mass. His spirit will be, not to calculate how little he need do in order to avoid breaking the law, but rather to do all he possibly can to avoid missing the chance of sharing in Christ’s sacrifice.

POINTS FOR CONSIDERATION OR DISCUSSION

Can I point out one notable difference between a sacrament and a sacrifice?

Have I a fairly clear idea of the meaning of sacrifice?

Was sacrifice a more important part of the religion of the Old Law than it is of that of the New?

How does it come about that it is possible for mankind to offer to God a sacrifice that is really worthy of Him?

Is the Mass merely a commemoration of Calvary?

“The Mass is the greatest act that takes place on earth.” Do I believe that statement? Could I show that it is true?

If a non-Catholic asked why I believed in the sacrifice of the Mass, what is the chief reason I should give?

Let me take each of the four chief ends of sacrifice and consider how the sacrifice of the Mass fulfils them.

Have I got an appreciation of Holy Communion as a special participation in Our Lord’s sacrifice, or do I consider only its sacramental character?

Is the obligation of hearing Mass merely a precept of the Church?

Have I any considered opinion about the value of daily Mass, or of hearing Mass oftener than on Sundays?

Am I less careful about being in good time for Mass than about being punctual at a social engagement?

Three men live at a considerable distance from the church. One has no means of conveyance, one has a horsedrawn vehicle, and one has a motor car. Are they in the same condition when the distance has to be considered as a reason for not going to Mass?

Do I think that peace in the world would be promoted if all peoples understood the meaning of the Mass, and joined with unanimity in its offering?

Nihil Obstat:

P. Jones,

Censor Deputatus.

Imprimatur:

@ D. Mannix,

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis.

Padre Pio

INDEX

WHO IS PADRE PIO?

Never forget that in the hospital are also those who are dying. O. Guarini

PREFACE

In writing this little book my object is to spread knowledge of Padre Pio of Pietrelcina, of the Capuchin Fathers, increasingly all over the world.

In a few pages the reader should be able to get some idea of this son of St. Francis of Assisi, who so much resembles the apostle of charity.

Unfortunately, the tumultuous existence that we lead interferes with reading large volumes; we are driven by too many occupations and interests and are obliged to take advantage of the merest fractions of our free time, which we often use in far different ways than in the renewal of our spiritual life.

Many people have complained to me by word of mouth or in writingthat they were unable to read my books: “Per la Storia,” “Fino alla Meta,” and “Fatti Nuova,” because of their cost, or from lack of time.

I believe that these difficulties have been eliminated with the publication of this little volume, and I hope that these same people will now be able to form an adequate picture in their minds of the Reverend Padre Pio of Pietrelcina. If as a result they feel the desire to know this messenger of love better, try by all means to go to him. This may of course be impossible, because of a question of health or money. So the next best course is to read all that has been written about him, so that they may become familiar with this man of God who has been sent to us in this critical moment of the world’s history.

They, too, will learn to “believe” in the fullest meaning of the word, since believing in a mystery truly admits of no limitations and no compromises with one’s intellect, for if it did, we would be merely philosophizing.

In order to believe, however, it is essential to want to believe, and whoever goes to the Father with this intention will acquire courage for the fullness of life; living consists not only of Faith, but also of Hope and of Charity.

It is in the name of these three virtues that I am writing these pages, and whatever profit I make of them will be turned over to the “House for the Relief of Suffering,” the magnificent hospital that was built by the father in order to minister to the sufferings of the very poorest.

I declare, as I always do, that in obedience to the decrees of the Sovereign Pontiffs, I recount these facts with purely human credibility, having recourse to the prescriptions of the Church, our only Mother and Teacher.

THE AUTHOR

BIOGRAPHY

To tell of the Reverend Padre Pio of Pietrelcina is the easiest as well as the most difficult of tasks; it is easy since his life is like an open book in which all may read, but hard in that the impression received by each one who sees him is hardly ever the same as the next man’s. These impressions are varied and complicated, according to the state of grace, the condition of conscience, the personality of the visitor.

Who is this Padre Pio? Many people have wondered hearing him spoken of so often.

I shall begin by saying that he is a very humble Capuchin who wears the habit of St. Francis of Assisi. He was born on May25th, 1887, of poor country people, at Pietrelcina in the Province of Benevento. His father, who was called Zi”Orazio (Uncle Orazio) by everyone, died on the 7th of October 1946 and is buried with his wife Giuseppa who died some years earlier, at San Giovanni Rotondo. Their tomb is visited by all pilgrims who come to see the Padre.

Padre Pio was born of parents who were poor in material things but rich in matters of the spirit, for they had a deep love and respect for our holy religion. He was baptized Francesco Forgione, and grew up in Pietrelcina. He was different from his contemporaries in that he did not share in the wild games and adventures or the strife of the other boys. From his earliest childhood he showed a kind of recollection of spirit and a love for the things of God, seeing Him in the beauty of the clouds and the stars and loving to hear of his goodness.

This awareness of God brings with it a sort of change in focus on the world and in his case, developed a profound conception of justice, discrimination of good and evil, of the pure and the impure. At the same time it implanted in his soul a grace and gentleness that led him toward the goal that he had set himself, which was to perfect his nature and live ever more in harmony with his ideals.

In spite of this, the little peasant boy took part in the rural festivities and the simple life of his family. When the grown-ups danced or beat out the grain on the threshing floor of their houses and the children played about their mothers” skirts, or when the bigger boys were teasing each other with practical jokes, little Francesco, who had surely never heard of the Canticle of the Sun, was expressing the same ideas in his own words when he praised God and Mother Earth and his brother the Sun, all of the natural beauty surrounding him and filling him with joy.

From a very inadequate private tutor he received the first instructions in reading and arithmetic, but this poor man was able to teach him little. Family gossips blamed the pupil rather than the teacher for the little progress that was made, but they were wrong, for as soon as the boy was entrusted to another teacher, a certain Caccavo, with whom he remained until he was fourteen, little Francesco immediately showed a lively intelligence.

In 1902 his father entered him in the monastery of Morcone where he was to prepare for the novitiate. His superior was extremely severe with him, and Padre Pio admits to never having seen the countryside when walking about with his classmates, as they were all obliged to keep their eyes fixed on the ground.

It was at this time that he began his severe penances and fasting. When his parents went to see him, they found him so emaciated and run-down that they tried to take him home. The Father Provincial, however, having sensed a quality in his young pupil that distinguished him from the others, persuaded the parents to leave him.

From Marcone he went to Sant”Elia in Panisi, and then to Venafro, where he lived for twenty-one days with the sacred host as his sole nourishment. In spite of his fasting he had gained weight, and when Zi”Orazio came to see him a year later he was pleased with his appearance.

After this he was transferred to Serra Capriola, to Montefusco, and to other places, where he continued his advance on the road to perfection through penance, fasting and prayer.

Whereas Our Lord was well pleased with his new servant, Satan, the spirit of Evil, seeing that this most desirable prey was evading him, proceeded to tempt him with unprecedented variety and violence.

Whenever he was forced by his poor health to seek a little change, he came back to Pietrelcina and his father’s house.

He was once advised to take off his monk’s habit and become a secular priest, but he refused, not wishing to be unfaithful to St. Francis.

One day as he was walking with the Pastor of the village, when they had reached the open country he suddenly stopped and became rapt in a kind of trance while listening to the ringing of distant church bells.

“What is the matter with you?” asked Don Salvatore.

“Nothing,” he answered, “but the sound of those bells reminds me of bells of the vanished monastery; it will some day be here again, and larger and more beautiful than before!”

It seemed to him that he was hearing a chorus of angels giving praise to the Lord, and he added: “I don’t know when this will come about, but it will.”

It happened that in June 1947, His Excellency Msgr. Manginelli, Bishop of Benevento, did consecrate in Pietrelcina a monastery of the Capuchin Fathers. It had been endowed twenty years earlier by a spiritual daughter and convert of Padre Pio’s, a well-to-do American lady, Miss Mary Pyle.

In this same monastery on the 20th of September, 1947, being the thirtieth anniversary of the appearance of the stigmata on the Padre, some of his spiritual children presented him with a ciborium and some vestments. The dream of the young novice had become a reality.

However, before all these things were to happen, he had to go through much suffering and many disappointments; his pallor betrayed to many that he had the disease that can not be ignored, tuberculosis.

However, the infinite mercy of God never disappoints those who place in Him all of their confidence, and the Padre had more than once told himself: “Oh Lord, I have done your will!” He knew, besides, that suffering was the surest way for God to enter his soul and never leave it.

Padre Pio knew well that in order to receive one must give, and he gave all of himself. The only complaint ever to pass his lips was that he had not given enough and had received too much.

HIS ORDINATION

On the 10th of August, 1910, Padre Pio was ordained in the Cathedral of Benevento. The city had once been named “Maleventum” or Evil Wind by its founder Diomede, because of the violent winds that prevail there, but the Romans renamed it Beneventum, or Good Wind.

The higher the Padre mounted up the scale of perfection, the more fiercely did Satan attack him. One night he saw his bed surrounded by the most fearful monsters who shouted to him: “See, the Saint is retiring!”

“Yes, in spite of you!” he answered; and was promptly seized, shaken and beaten to the ground.

The more he was tormented by the Devil, the greater grew his faith and his love for Our Lord.

Another time, when he was ill in bed, he saw a friar come into his cell who looked like his former confessor, Father Agostino. The apparition proceeded to advise him to give up his practise of penance, of which God did not approve. Padre Pio, much astonished, ordered his visitor to call out: “Viva Gesu!” The strange creature disappeared, leaving behind a strong smell of sulphur.

He had many of these supernatural manifestations, and has had many since, but it would take too long to describe even the most startling of them.

During this period, the good Father Agostino, although getting on in years, continued to follow the career of his much-loved disciple and kept up a lively correspondence with him. When our holy Mother the Church comes to permit the publication of these letters, it will be possible to learn about the mysterious attacks that the poor Father has undergone from his terrible and invisible enemies. In the meantime he was ordered by the Archpriest to give over the unopened letters to him, without having read them.

One day a letter came to Padre Pio from Father Agostino, whose writing he recognized; he took it to the Archpriest who, having opened it, found a plain sheet of paper with no writing on it. “The good father must have forgotten to write anything,” he said, “or else he just put a sheet of paper in the envelope instead of the letter.”

“No,” answered Padre Pio, “he did not forget, it is “those gentlemen” who want to play me their usual trick.”

“What do you know about it?”

“I know . . .”

“You think so! Then you will no doubt be able to tell me what was in the letter?”

“Most certainly!” and he proceeded to tell him exactly what Father Agostino had written to him.

The Archpriest, not believing Padre Pio, wrote to Father Agostino and his answer confirmed the truth as it had been told him.

Many things of this sort happened to him and others besides, but it would take too long to tell of them. The most notable grace, however, that he received from Almighty God was that of the Stigmata.

THE STIGMATA

Padre Pio first received the invisible Stigmata in Pietrelcina on the 20th of September 1915, and the visible ones at San Giovanni Rotondo on the same date in 1918. This did not happen in the case of the seventy other stigmatists that the Church has so far canonized. Gemma Galgani is the latest of these to be so honored.

Much could be said on the subject of this supernatural gift with which Padre Pio has been blessed by Divine Providence, but I, for one, am too ignorant not only to explain the gift, but to discuss its nature. I shall only say that th e invisible Stigmata came to him while he was in the garden or orchard of his home in Pietrelcina, on a morning in September in the year 1915.

Only his confessor, Don Salvatore Panullo, is in a position to know the whole story, and his account of it has been transmitted to Rome and placed in the safe-keeping of Our Holy Mother the Church. We know that on that day, Padre Pio began his ascent of Mount Tabor, the scene of the Transfiguration. Since Our Lord was his model, and he was in a state of grace, God gave him this sign of His love which he had received through hardship and suffering accepted for His Divine Son and offered to Him.

God became man in Christ, to suffer for men and among men, and Padre Pio, being a man, imitated Christ, the Divine Master. The Capuchin had been more thanonce heard to repeat the sublime words: “Father in Heaven, do with me what you will, not what I will!”

But on Friday, the 20th of September 1918, there happened to him an event that not only changed his whole life, but that singled him out from the rest of humanity. He was praying in his stall in the choir when suddenly the monks heard a piercing cry. On running to find the cause of it they came upon Padre Pio lying unconscious on the floor of the choir, his hands, his feet and his side marked with deep, bleeding wounds. He was carried to his cell where he gradually recovered consciousness, begging his brothers to keep his secret. He had worn invisible stigmata for three years, and now they were there for all to see. They have remained the same until this day. He has been the subject of endless and often painful medical examinations, and has undergone every kind of supposedly healing treatment, but the wounds remain open and completely free from infection. He loses about a cupful of blood every day from his side, which is covered at all times with a linen cloth to prevent the endless staining of his garments. He wears brown half gloves on his hands excepting when he is saying mass. Nobody knows how much Padre Pio suffers.from his wounds, but his rather halting gait is evidence enough of his constant awareness of his transpierced feet. . When asked if the stigmata were painful, he laughingly replied: “Do you think that the Lord gave them to me for a decoration?”

I shall not dwell upon the manner in which the news spread like lightning all over the village, the Puglie, the Continent of Europe, and finally the whole world.

Padre Pio is the first priest ever to have received the Stigmata, for St. Francis was not a priest.

As I have said, the whole world began to hear of this wonder, and our Holy Mother the Church, ever prudent, ordered that the facts be examined by scientific methods.

The first person to be sent there to make a report, was Doctor Luigi Romanelli of Barletta. After five visits he felt obliged to state that he: “had been unable to discover a scientific explanation that would authorize him to classify such wounds.”

This was a positive statement, but also full of spiritual meaning, as it declared science to be beyond its depth, and unable to explain the circumstances or the facts.

The newspapers sent their correspondents, who were in a great state of bewilderment, but who, all of them, whether willing or no, were forced to admit the truth of what they saw.

From that time San Giovanni Rotondo became the objective of pious pilgrimages. People came to the Father to beg his help and intercession with the God of all Love. The good that the Father has accomplished until now is known only to God, who has it written in His great book, for men are not always grateful. Although there are plenty who openly declare and confirm in writing the miracles or graces they have obtained, there are others who, having gotten what they were so ardently longing for, no longer wish to hear Padre Pio spoken of, and claim that things would have turned out that way anyhow, without his prayers.

These are the ones that I am most sorry for, more than for any atheist who does not believe and for one who does not see, for these do not wish to believe although they have seen. They are the unfortunate ones, like a certain Roman professor who, although he had seen the truth with his own eyes, did not wish to recognize it, and repented too late.

The Vatican sent both Professor Bignami of the University of Rome and Professor Giorgio Festa, also of Rome, but without either one knowing of the other’s visit. Whereas the first was violently opposed to the Church the other was a good Catholic, and took the completely opposite side in the discussion. When Professor Festa discovered that his account was entirely different from that of Professor Bignami, he was seized with doubts and scruples, fearing that he had been mistaken in his observation. He went back several times to revisit Padre Pio, only to be convinced after most meticulous examinations, that he had made no mistakes. This led him to declare that the five lesions observed by him corresponded to: “The five parts of His body that Our Lord offered up in His supreme Holocaust to faith,” adding that “They can only constitute a mystery for those who are unable to see a connection between natural truths and those of faith and religion.”

Thomas A Kempis, in the Imitation of Christ, says: “Worldly honors have always Sorrow for company,” and these words are written on the door of cell No. 5 which was occupied by Padre Pio, in the monastery of Santa Maria delle Grazie in San Giovanni Rotondo. He now occupies cell No. 1. These honors have indeed brought sorrow to Padre Pio, for he has been visited by men of every sect, and of the most varied religious and philosophical beliefs who have published the wildest fictions and most unlikely stories about him, whereas he offered himself all to God and imitated His Divine Son more closely every day.

He returned good for evil, especially in the case of those who had offended him the most, and I admit to being myself one of these.

I was once a Mason, a despiser of priests, of nuns and of saints. In Florence in 1919, I wrote libelous articles against Padre Pio in the anticlerical newspaper “L”Italia Laica” when I knew him only by name.

God punished me, and I thank Him for that punishment, since it allowed me to change my opinions in time, and save my soul. In November 1930, I went for the first time to see the Father, more out of curiosity than conviction, and in t he presence of that extraordinary personality I was able in my inmost being to realize how wrong I had been and to utter a hymn of praise and of thanksgiving to God. I had so often been guilty of blasphemy, and now He was allowing me to see the Light, that Light that has ever since shone on the road that I travel, and that, please God, will continue to do so for the rest of my life.

The atheist in me had been overcome, and Satan had undergone another defeat; the first fruits of love and of faith began to grow along my path

I do not know how all this came about; there exist indescribable conditions in the human soul, probably in our subconscious mind but nonetheless guided by reason as well as feelings. They are like a beneficent rain that comes to a parched land; like a dazzling light that prevents us from seeing at first by what we are surrounded; like a familiar song from a distant homeland, like the gentle talk of a mother and child.

We feel these things in ourselves and are unable to explain or describe them, they make us laugh and sing and long to tell the whole world of our joy, of our love, of this wonderful melody that intoxicates us and that only a genius can express through the medium of art. It is the true poetry of life, that Dante immortalized in his verse, Michelangelo in his sculpture, Raphael in his painting and Chopin in his music.

It is something so wonderful that we cannot keep it to ourselves, for it bursts out, breaking all bonds and throwing everyone and everything into confusion; we feel that we simply must tell the world of our happiness.

“Credo, credo, credo!” that was the word that I kept re peating when I saw Padre Pio for the first time. Today my Credo is more perfect, for I say: “Christ, I believe in Thee, the ultimate good. Thou only art the King of Kings, I adore and worship only Thee.”

THE SUPERNATURAL GIFTS OF PADRE PIO

It has been erroneously stated that the spiritual children of Padre Pio are fanatics, because they love him too much. This is not true; they love the Padre because he brings them nearer to God—they love him just for that.

You must not forget that if it is true that the Padre is the first stigmatized priest of the Church, he is also the only known living priest who has the gift of perfume, of conversion, of bilocation, of discernment of spirits; and of penetrating the future.

Other saints have had the gift of perfume, e.g. St. Theresa, St. Dominic, St. John of the Cross, St. Catherine of Genoa, St. Rita of Cascia, St. Frances of Rome, St. Francis of Paul, St. Clare of Assisi, and others. There have been many saints who could exercise the power of conversion; the Church has been rich in these.

There have been saints who cured the sick and the infirm, and those who had the gift of bi-location like St. Anthony of Padua, St. Alphonsus of Liguori, St. Alma, St. Malgondus, St. Bridget, St. Dominic Guzman, St. Rita of Cascia, St. Theresa of Avila. Certain saints had the gift of the discernment of spirits like St. Joseph of Cupertino, St. Frances of Rome, Blessed Anna Maria Taigi and Don Vincenzo Palotti.

There have been saints who prophesied like St. Lawrence Cipriano, St. Perpetua, St. Saturus, St. Hildegarde and others, but not one of them had been given all of these supernatural gifts like Padre Pio of Pietrelcina.

Padre Pio has accomplished deeds that are beyond the scope of ordinary mortals, and these are borne witness to daily from every corner of the earth. I have reported upon many of these facts in my other books: “Per la Storia,” “Fatti Nuova,” “Fino alla Meta,” so that here I shall only sketch a few, as I have limited myself as to space.

Before beginning my story, I wish to make the following statement: Only after his death, will our children and grandchildren be in a position to say who Padre Pio is; for then he will undergo his canonical trial; in the meantime we, as obedient children of Holy Mother Church, follow her teachings and abide by her laws.

The spiritual children of Padre Pio, scattered all over the world, know well who he is, it would be well for those who do not know him to learn to do so, for they would obtain the help of a spiritual guide for the rest of their lives.

Whoever receives the grace of conversion will experience the very same joys that were granted to me; for he will see how the spirit can conquer the flesh, how love can triumph over hate, and faith over incredulity. He will realize that eternal truth banishes doubt and despair, and he will know that all human knowledge pales before the crucifix; for we are penetrated by a divine fire that never leaves us, but draws us up into the knowledge and the presence of God. We know that weshall reap the fruit of our work in God’s vineyard when He calls us to Himself.

The love that his spiritual children feel for Padre Pio is not fanaticism, but rather a most humble respect for one who will bring them nearer to Almighty God. They are crusaders of faith and love, for they are committed to spread the one and the other among those who are lacking in both, and this they do in the name of God and of their spiritual father.

Padre Pio wishes that all of his children should consider themselves brothers, should banish all hate forever in the flame of God’s love, and that they may come to him with such a deep and sincere longing for perfection that he can bring them before God restored to their baptismal innocence.

Let us follow him then, this chosen one, who takes upon himself reparation for all of the evil that we have committed, and just as he imitates Our Lord and offers all of himself to God, we can imitate him and advance far along in the spiritual life.

THE GIFT OF PERFUME

Among the many gifts that God has bestowed upon Padre Pio one of the most remarkable is certainly that of his perfume.

Very many people claim that they have experienced this perfume of the Padre’s, even at great distances; they describe it as similar to that which is noticed when one comes near to him and to his stigmatized hands and even to his clothes and objects that have been touched by him.

It is important to note that the Father reveals himself to different people in a different manner; each perfume has its own significance and is a proof that he has heard their prayer. It comes as a warning to proceed with or to desist from some action, or to pray or to hope. It is sometimes very distinct and sometimes faint; it reminds one of roses or violets or lilies; at times of incense, at others of carbolic acid or even of tobacco.

It is almost impossible to classify these different types of perfume or to explain their significance, but it is known and attested by the Church that all through her history there have been holy people who have been gifted in this mysterious way either during life or even after death.

St. Joseph of Cupertino exuded from his person a sweet and delicate perfume, and no one could ever give a reason for it; his clothes were impregnated with it and it clung to his cell for twelve years after his death.

A very special perfume came from the tombs of St. Anthony of Padua and of St. Dominic Guzman among others, and in all cases it had the quality of pleasing even those who disliked any perfume.

Professor Romanelli visited Padre Pio five times, and at first was surprised that the Father should use scent; he realized later the true significance of this spiritual manifestation and his surprise was changed to profound admiration during the fifteen months of his medical observations.

This perfume is part of his biolocation and in a way a proof that Our Lord dwells in him and he in Our Lord.

As a general rule, the perfume is first noticed when one is on one’s way to Padre Pio or just after having left him; but what is more extraordinary is the fact that it is often noticed in far distant lands, such as Africa, America or Asia. This can not be explained by autosuggestion, as it is impossible so to create odor that will be smelled by a group of people at the same time, but which suggests to each one something as different as lilies, or tobacco or even carbolic acid.

Perfume is always caused by an emanation from an object or person; it reaches the nostrils of the one who perceives it, and he in turn recognizes it as characteristic of the object or person from which it comes.

Padre Pio’s perfume has a real meaning to his spiritual children, it proves to them that he is following them from afar and is warning, guiding and supporting them, that he is giving them specific advice to do some definite thing or not to do it.

THE GIFT OF CONVERSION

Padre Pio will go down in history as one who knew how to convert.

It is impossible to know the names of all those who have been converted by him or to describe all of the spiritual transformations he has effected upon the souls of his visitors.

I shall mention only a few names; but each of these has behind it an unwritten volume of suffering and joy, and if any of it has been brought to light, the description was only a pale shadow of what had been experienced.

Among the most spectacular conversions were Festa, a lawyer of Genoa, and cousin of the Doctor Festa who examined the Father; Di Maggio di Partinico, also a lawyer; Signora Luisa Vairo; the writer Checcacci of Genoa, the Russian Colonel Caterinitch; the sculptor Francesco Messina; then there is Father Pio of the Trinitarians, as well as Pitigrilli and many others.

Among all of the gifts that God has showered on Padre Pio, I consider that this one is even greater than the healing of the sick and infirm, for in the latter a material change takes place that modifies a situation only for the time being, whereas conversion brings about a spiritual regeneration that has almost always a permanent quality, that is, it lasts for eternity.

I have only mentioned a few names, and there are thousands of others; many of these have never been willing to sign a statement or send in a report, either from false modesty or conventionality or perhaps even because of not correctly evaluating the grace they have received. We must not forget that whoever has received absolution after confession is returned to a state of grace even after years of sinful life, just as though he had been newly baptized.

Since names without facts are a dead letter to the average reader, I shall make a few rapid sketches of particular cases.

A very dear friend of mine, the late Ferruccio Caponetti who was also once a Mason, then a convert as I was, wrote to me in November 1931:

“My dear Alberto, the Lord has infinite ways! You crossed my path, you showed me the right road, I took heed and climbed up the steep slope of Monte Gargano where I found the Master; he received me with joy because he saw that I was blind, and he listened smiling to the doubts that were in my mind. With simple words but with most profound wisdom he demolished one by one all of the theories that filled my mind, and I found myself without arguments to oppose him; he stripped my soul bare and by showing me Our Lord’s sublime teaching he reopened the eyes of my soul; I was able to see the true light, my inmost heart was touched and I knew the meaning of Faith.

“I now enjoy true peace of soul, I now know the true God. For this I am grateful to you, for I owe you so much, and to Padre Pio I owe everything!”

A lawyer from Genoa, a cousin of Doctor Festa of Rome, persuaded that his cousin was in a state of exaltation, decided to go incognito to Padre Pio.

As soon as the Father laid eyes on him he exclaimed: “What are you doing here? You are a Mason!” This was fol- lowed by verbal blows and counter-blows which all ended in the lawyer kneeling down in front of the humble friar who had converted him.

On his return to Genoa he wrote a long letter to his cousin in Rome. Among other things he said: “Thanks! You have opened up a way for me which I shall follow. I can not tell you about it in writing, because it is all impossible to describe. I can only say that I have come home with a deep sense of peace in my soul, I long for silence so that nothing may disturb my spirit.”

He later became a stretcher-bearer following the sick pilgrims who traveled to Lourdes. He was received by his Holiness Benedict XV,who said to him: “Padre Pio is truly a man of God. Take on the task of making him better known, he is not appreciated by all as he deserves.”

Professor G. Felice Checcacci of Genoa, a writer well known in Italy, who lived for upward of forty years in the Orient, and had the opportunity to study a great variety of religions, he read a book of mine a few years ago and wrote me the following: “You are lucky to be able to go so often to see Padre Pio! What peace you must feel in your soul! Please embrace him humbly for me.” He then went on to tell me about his conversion and said: “I must admit that I had not been inside of a church out of devotion for over forty years. I obeyed, however, and as I prayed I heard a voice within me that whispered “Faith can not be discussed; you must either shut your eyes and accept it at the same time acknowledging the inadequacy of the human mind when confronted with a mystery, or you will have to give it up. There is no middle way. It is for you to choose.” From that day I chose the road I would follow, and I owe my return to the religion of my forefathers to Padre Pio.

“From that time I realized all of the beauty that exists in Christian charity, and the selfishness and indifference to human suffering by Asiatic religions founded on the doctrine of fatalism and reincarnation.”

One day a poor man came with a very sick child; he had consulted a number of doctors and had spent much money in the search of a cure. He brought him to the Padre while he was still feverish, hoping for a miracle.

When he entered the confessional Padre Pio chased him away with these words: “What are you doing in front of God’s tribunal if you don’t believe? Go! Go away! You are a communist!”

The man went back to his lodgings with the intention of taking his child home, but a professor who happened to be there persuaded him to return to the Father and confess his sins, at the same time renouncing the evil teachings of Moscow. In the afternoon he returned to the monastery Church with the intention of going to confession. As soon as he saw the Father he threw himself weeping at his feet, unable to utter a word.

Padre Pio raised him up from the ground and said: “Now that’s the way! A good scrubbing is what you need, but you have to have the will to be clean. Youhave done the right thing and your son will get well. Now come to confession.” The poor man wept during his confession, being very deeply moved. The child was cured physically just as his father was cured spiritually.

CURES

The number of people who have come to Padre Pio to beg for his prayers are legion; they have come to him suffering from every sort of illness, such as advanced conditions of cancer, tuberculosis of the lungs or of the bones, maladies that had been pronounced chronic or incurable by medical science. He is begged by all to pray God for the cure of their bodily ills, and ultimately for good of their souls.

Whenever the Father accomplishes one of these astonishing cures he says: “God has granted you this grace, address your thanks to Him and not to me!” Although he is aware of his power, he never allows it to encroach upon his humility.

The average reader insists upon deeds rather than words; let me assure him that the Father has accomplished more amazing deeds than could possibly be imagined. I do not know all of them, by any means, and in many cases I am not at liberty to record them with the names and addresses of the people involved. It is therefore difficult to describe in a few words that which amply deserves a long and detailed account.

I shall do the best I can with the small space available and from among many others I shall mention the one case I have followed most closely, the cure of Signorina Maria Panisi, who was born in New York and now lives in Pietrelcina.

Maria Panisi was suffering from tuberculosis, and had been pronounced incurable by several well-known doctors, among others Dr. Moscato of the University of Naples, who had declared to the girl’s father in 1923 that: “By the time the trees lose their leaves your daughter will have passed on to a better life.”

This happened thirty years ago, and Maria Panisi now lives in the little village where Padre Pio was born. The leaves have fallen thirty times, but she continues to feel perfectly well.

How did this happen? It was very simple: the father of the girl, who came from the same village as Padre Pio, brought her to San Giovanni. The Padre patted her gently on the shoulder with his hand and said: “What do you mean by saying you are sick? Your lungs are made of steel!” And from that day Maria Panisi had no more hemorrhages and was as well as any girl of her age.

A Countess Baiocci of Gavina who lived in Rome was suffering from an unknown disease. She consulted many doctors and was finally advised by Dr. Giorgio Festa to go to San Giovanni Rotondo. The day after her arrival she was completely cured.

A young lady from Bologna who is still living had been warned by an eminent physician that one of her bones could never knit, as she had broken it too long ago. She was completely cured the first time she followed Padre Pio’s instruc- tions and this happened on the feast of St. Francis.

A military chaplain told me that in a hospital that receives 37,000 patients in the course of two years, only fifty-three of them had died, and he attributed this fact to his having blessed each one of the wounded with a crucifix that had been blessed by Padre Pio. Later on he had two ships torpedoed under him and in both cases his life was saved.

At Bagnoreggio near Viterbo a child suffering from meningitis was left in a spastic condition and sent away from the hospital as incurable. Padre Pio’s prayers cured him.

In Ragusa a seven months old infant was cured of a convulsive cough owing to the great faith of her parents in Padre Pio who obtained her cure through his prayers. This was confirmed by Dr. Tagliaferri, a well-known pediatrician.

A boy by the name of Fernander of Hamrun in Malta was suddenly stricken with a high fever; it was diagnosed by blood test as Malta or Mediterranean fever. Various doctors in consultation decided to immobilize his knee joint in a plaster cast fearing that his leg would be permanently deformed.

The child’s mother, who was a spiritual child of Padre Pio, sent him a telegram begging for prayers. She received an answer from San Giovanni Rotondo which said: “Padre Pio blesses and prays.” The doctors noticed a distinct improve- ment on their next visit, the idea of the plaster cast was given up, and a few days later the boy had completely recovered.

At San Felice a Cancello, Naples, a young woman by the name of Nicoletta Mazzone was dying of a complication of bronchial complaints in the course of which she had even lost the power of speech. Her agonized father traveled to San Giovanni Rotondoto beg for a cure. Padre Pio smiled when he said to him: “Go back home and be glad, for the Madonna delle Grazie will cure your child.” Mazzone did not accept this statement, but implored the Father anew, at which he answered, though no longer smiling: “Man of little faith! I repeat to you, go home and rejoice, for the Madonna delle Grazie will cure her!”

On his return to his village he was met by his wife and sister who joyfully announced to him that the dying girl had spoken, and had said that she was hungry. From that day on she grew better and eventually was completely cured.

I was told of this by the uncle of the young lady, a Mr. F. Flamman of 6009 8th Avenue, Brooklyn, New York.

A woman from Pesaro, the wife of a workman, brought her deaf and dumb child to Padre Pio. He cured her instantly. In an outburst of gratitude the woman took a gold chain from the child’s neck, the only object of value that she owned, and gave it to Padre Pio for the Virgin. When she reached home she told everything to her husband who flew into a rage at the offering she had made to the Father: he said that she should have chosen some other article rather than the gift that he himself had made to his daughter.

The next morning they found the chain on the bed table.

The Reverend Emilio Secchi, parish priest of Avandrace, Cagliari, told me the following story in 1947: the head of the Girl’s Protective Association (name not given) came down with typhoid and was taken in all haste to the local hospital for infectious diseases.

As it was impossible for a letter to travel from Avandrace to San Giovanni Rotondo in less than several days, the father of the patient sent a telegram to Padre Pio, begging him to pray for the speedy recovery of his daughter, whose presence was urgently needed in carrying on the work of the parish, and who was impossible to replace.

The young woman was only allowed to remain for twentyfour hours in the hospital, she was sent home to die, as there was no hope of her recovery.

However, she did recover. Padre Pio on receiving the telegram asked the Lord to restore her to perfect health. The priest who sent me the story added that he had no hesitation in attributing the cure of this person to the prayers of Padre Pio.

I shall close with the extraordinary story of Wanda Sari of Treviso who was suffering from a grievous malady and in great pain. The doctors had given her but a few hours to live, when a friend showed her a photograph of Padre Pio; she begged him with all her might for a cure, and all of a sudden her pains disappeared. She later went to San Giovanni Rotondo to thank the Padre, and on her way there came to see me. I had in my possession a photograph which had been sent to me at the time of her illness; in it she looked completely emaciated. I saw before me now a fine, healthy child whose angelic expression helped me to see the reason for the miracle.

Padre Pio has been blessed with a gift that he shares with a number of saints who have been honored by our Holy Mother the Church, namely the power to be in several places at once. It has often been noticed that when someone has been recommended to the prayers of Padre Pio, his face undergoes a change and his eyes become luminous while at the same time he seems to murmur a prayer. It is as though he were partly absent, and had gone to the side of the person who needed him. He does in fact not only go from one place to another, but he is able to project his voice and also his perfume.

This supernatural. gift can be proven by various known facts. In my book .”Fino alla Meta” I tell of a young aviator who was attached to a fighter squadron in the last war.

One day the lieutenant started off on a mission, and discovered right away that his plane was about to catch fire. He consulted his commanding officer by radio, who told him that if he could not put out the blaze he was to bail out of the plane with his parachute. All of his efforts were in vain so he jumped, but the parachute failed to open. He would have been killed had not a friar caught him in his arms and carried him to earth.

That evening he told his story to his commanding officer who did not believe a word of it, but gave him a short leave in order to recover from the shock of the experience.

When he reached home he told his tale to his mother. “Why it was Padre Pio,” she said “I prayed to him so hard for you!” and she showed him a picture of the Padre. Her son exclaimed: “Mother! That is the same man!”

The young soldier went to San Giovanni Rotondo to express his gratitude. Padre Pio said to him: “That was not the only time I saved you. At Monastir when your plane had been hit, I made it glide safely to earth.” Which had actually happened.

A certain prelate went to Rome for the beatification of St. Teresa of the Child Jesus. Wishing to pray at the tomb of His Holiness St. Pius X, he asked to have the gate of the crypt opened for him. What was his astonishment when he saw a Capuchin praying there, inside of the enclosure. When he had finished his prayers he turned to speak to the friar but he had vanished. He found out later by description that he had seen Padre Pio.

A certain sick woman in Borgomanero was visited by the Padre through bilocation; she begged him to leave her some remembrance of his visit, at which he placed his wounded hand on the edge of her bed. Five bloodstains in the form of crosses remained upon the sheet, a fact that needs no explanation.

What has always seemed to me the most impressive of all the astonishing facts about Padre Pio is the story of Monsignor Fernando Damiani, the Vicar General of Salto, Uruguay. His brother was the famous baritone, Victor Damiani of the “Colon” of Buenos Aires. Padre Pio had at one time cured the prelate of a cancer of the stomach, which had made them great friends over the years. Some time later Msgr. Damiani returned to Italy and went to see Padre Pio. He spoke with some feeling of his desire to stay in Italy, his native land, as he was now advanced in years. Padre Pio advised him to go back to Uruguay, as it was not time yet for his number to be called; he also promised him that he would visit him at the time of his death. The Monsignor then left for South America.

For the celebration of the twenty-fifth anniversary of the ordination of His Excellency Bishop Alfredo Viola of Salto, Uruguay, Msgr. Damiani joined the throng of distinguished ecclesiastics who came from all over South America for the occasion. He, in his capacity of Vicar General was expected to be present at all the ceremonies but an attack of angina pectoris prevented him from doing this and he died, being assisted at the end not only by a number of bishops but by Padre Pio himself, who kept his promise. Msgr. Damiani was able to scribble a note to that effect with the words: “Padre Pio came.”

Two important churchmen confirmed this, and when they came to Italy they got Padre Pio to admit that it was true.

The appearance of Padre Pio to young Giacomo Calice of the Foreign Legion is also noteworthy. One night when he was standing guard at an advance outpost and feeling miserably frightened by the solitude of the desert, a man appeared full of reassurance and told him to follow him. He led him to the coast where he found a raft that took him to Marseilles, and from thence he got to Corsica, his native land.

Signor Pietro Calice, the boy’s father, had gone to Padre Pio some time before and had begged him to bring about the return of his son to their home. The Padre promised him that the sheep would return to the fold provided that he prayed God with great love and faith. And all this came about. When the father showed his son a picture of Padre Pio, he said to him: “That is the man who led me out of the desert!”

I could go on with no end of such stories, but I ask the reader to look in the books I have mentioned above, where they will be found in greater detail.

DISCERNMENT OF SPIRITS

Whoever has used the powers of the soul and has succeeded in raising himself up, even for an instant, above the “burden of his flesh,” and lifted his spirit to God, will have experienced something that is unknown to the great majority of the human race.

By reading the lives of the saints we learn that the mystical life enhances all of the senses, especially that of sight, thereby making the saint more observant in matters that concern his walk of life. The Blessed Anna Maria Taig was very close to Padre Pio in this. Skeptics, even among the clergy, who scorn those who believe that Padre Pio can read consciences and be aware of events that are taking place far away from him, either in the past or in the future, must be confounded by what has been proved again and again.

St. Joseph of Cupertino could recognize carnal sins by the smell of his penitents. Padre Pio, just looking at a man said: “Oh Genoese, you have a dirty face!” by which he was referring to the condition of his soul.

To a young woman the Padre said: “If you have had the courage to imitate Mary Magdalen in her sins, have the courage to imitate her penance!”

A woman driver who had blasphemed, and did not confess her sin, was reminded by him of the circumstances of her transgression.

Someone had asked him during the elevation to obtain for him a certain favor, and repeated the request during an interview. He said: “Do you think I am deaf? There is no need to repeat things twice!”

A Swiss priest presented him with an unopened letter, Padre Pio said “This is the answer.” And he gave him a written answer to his letter that had not been unsealed.

A French abbot, Father Benoit, had been puzzled for some time by a problem that he was unable to solve. As he was leaving Padre Pio who sensed that he was going away unsatisfied, he asked him for his breviary and on it he wrote the answer to the problem. It is interesting to note that the abbot had never mentioned what was preoccupying him, but Padre Pio was able to detect it and give him a proof of his discernment.

Two girls came to him who had promised their father not to kiss Padre Pio’s hand for fear of infection. “Pay attention to your father’s advice!” he said to them as they approached him.

Mrs. Mary Forster of Hazelton, New York received her passport which was to enable her to rejoin her husband in Europe, after it had been refused her by the State Department. She never knew how it came through, but she and her children were able to sail and were safely brought through a difficult trip. Padre Pio had sent her word that she was not to worry, that he would pray that all would go well with them and would assist them on their journey.

Mrs. Forster and her husband, an engineer, came to see me with their two children in Bologna when they came to Italy to thank Padre Pio.

GIFT OF PROPHECY

God, having given His servant the gift of seeing into the past and the present, has certainly given him the faculty of seeing into the future. Of this there are innumerable proofs. Many of these predictions have been verified because of the short space of time involved, others will not be proven correct until a long time hence. Is it not a gift of prophecy when the Padre promises a cure to a person whose case has been pronounced desperate? Or to someone who is in urgent need of help in some emergency? How can one explain his predictions of the sex of an unborn infant? The date of a conversion? A death?. . . . . Padre Pio once told a young man that he would be dead by a certain day and that he must prepare his soul; it happened as he said.

During the last war the Father promised that not a single bomb would fall upon San Giovanni Rotondo, and none did. Some people may say that it was a question of chance, but many aviators have declared that when they flew over San Giovanni they could not release their bombs.

During the earthquake at Valnure, the water supply was destroyed in Pietrelcina and the inhabitants were in despair, not being able to water their cattle. They came to Padre Pio who asked them to show him a map of the region where the new monastery was being built, and the work was at a standstill owing to the lack of water. He put his finger on a certain spot and said “Dig a well five meters from here and you will find all the water you want.” Not even the divining rods had succeeded in finding any, but Padre Pio did.

To a captain of Carabinieri he prophesied that he would have a son and to someone who wished for a daughter after having had five sons, he said: “It will be a little girl.” And it was.

Did not Padre Pio say that the Blessed Virgin would save Italy? That the Casa Sollievo della Sofferenza would be built? That a woman would have a child after eight years of marriage without one? And I could go on.

At times the Father states a fact in the clearest terms, at others he is almost sybilline and oracular. This generally depends upon the spiritual state of the person concerned. It would be too easy to say: “If I don’t get what I want, I”11 do as I please!” You can be sure that this will never happen.

I have attempted to give you some idea of this wonderful man of God. Before closing I feel that I should tell you something of his Mass and of his manner of hearing confessions.

PADRE PIO’S MASS

The impressions made by a visit to Padre Pio are various, but what moves people most is his Mass, or rather the manner in which he renews the Passion of Our Lord.

When the hour of Mass approaches, all faces are turned toward the sacristy from which the Padre will come, seeming to walk painfully on his pierced feet. We feel that grace itself is approaching us, forcing us to bend our knees.

It is difficult and indeed nearly impossible to describe the Mass of Padre Pio. Many have tried without too much success. Padre Pio is not an ordinary priest, but a creature in pain who renews the Passion of Christ, with the devotion and radiance of one who is inspired by God.

After he steps to the altar and makes the Sign of the Cross, the Padre’s face is transfigured, and he seems like a creature who becomes one with his Creator. Suffering shines through his features, and all can see the painful contractions of his body, especially when he leans on the altar and genuflects, as though he bore the weight of the cross; in the meantime tears roll down his cheeks and from his mouth come words of prayer, of supplication for pardon, of love for his Lord of whom he seems to become a perfect replica.

None of those present notice the passage of time; it takes him about one hour and a half to say his Mass, but the attention of all is riveted on every gesture, movement and expression of the celebrant. At the sound of the word “Credo” pronounced with such tremendous conviction, there is a great wave of emotion through the throng, and the most recalcitrant of sinners is carried along as on a stream that is bringing him to the confessional and the renunciation of his old way of life.

CONFESSION

Many writers on Padre Pio, like. myself, have said that he is absolutely unique as a confessor. What distinguishes him from others is his faculty of bringing to the mind of his penitent certain sins that he wishes him to confess. He sometimes mentions these faults himself, especially when he sees that the penitent, although well prepared, is so bewildered in his presence that he is unable to say anything at all. He sometimes reminds him of some sin that he has neglected to mention in previous confessions.

The first time that I went to confession to him was in November 1930. “Father” I said, “I have never had faith, but I have always been honest. Even when . . .” And he told me things that no mortal could have known, that I had forgotten, or not mentioned as they did not seem to me to be important.

Frederico Abresch, a convert from Protestantism was made to realize that in his preceding confessions he had withheld some grave faults, and to prove to him that he knew all about it the Father asked him when he had last made a good confession. Abresch could not remember, so the Padre said: “The last time that you made a good confession was on your honeymoon.” And this was really so.

Padre Pio can tell you exactly how many times you have missed Mass, how many promises have been broken, the number of faults willfully committed, the mortal sins omitted in confession, and the venial sins that must never be committed again.

If he is sometimes severe it is because many people approach the confessional lightly, without giving the sacrament its true importance; or what annoys him more is when people come to him merely to test his apparent omniscience. I do not advise anyone to attempt this, for besides offending the Padre, who is the intermediary between man and God, and whose role is to help us to recover our state of grace, it causes a grave offense to Almighty God.

It is only after having received absolution that the penitent can ask the Father for that thing that he so much desires. It is then that the Father promises to pray: for the recovery of someone dear to you

- for a successful operation

- that a child presumed lost may return safely

- for a boy or a girl as yet unborn

- for the assurance that some definite event will come about or not

- for a successful examination

When Padre Pio leaves the confessional his step is slower and he looks very tired; it is as though in addition to his own cross, he were bearing those of the souls that he has brought back to God.

When he absolves, Padre Pio gives the penitent a definite number of short prayers to say, and these must often be recited over a period of months. He knows the irresistible force of prayer, and that it is the key to the Heart of Our Lord, the link which binds the creature to the Creator, that makes him a slave to Divine Love.

It is also well to know that when the Father has bought a soul by means of his suffering, he does not allow Satan to recapture it, for he is always at hand to guide, to support and to help it in every circumstance that may arise. It was thus that he reassured a lawyer from Rome who was fearful lest he return to his former sinful ways: “My son,” he said, “pray without ceasing and never leave off, and you can be sure that when I have rescued a soul I never let it fall again.”

All those who know Padre Pio have heard him tell funny stories; indeed he must have a whole anthology of them in his head. His answers are full of humor and he likes a joke. On my last visit to him in April 1954, (it was my thirty-fifth) he was in the garden listening to the complaints of some of his spiritual sons. Suddenly he smiled and said: “None of you are happy, only we monks are happy, do you know why?” Then he made the sign of the cross and said: “We have no debts, we have no credit, we have no wives, nor any children . . . and so be it.’”

And I could go on forever.

CASA SOLLIEVO DELLA SOFFERENZA

(THE HOUSE FOR THE RELIEF OF SUFFERING)

Before ending this very short profile of Padre Pio, I think it is in order to say a few words about the “Casa Sollievo della Sofferenza,” the magnificent hospital that Padre Pio built at San Giovanni Rotondo in the Province of Foggia, for the sick of Monte Gargano where no hospital existed, as well as for the suffering people of all Italy who may come to see him.

This imposing structure takes in people of all races, creeds or political persuasion.

How did this ambitious plan arise? On the evening of the 9th of January 1940, the Padre said to three of his spiritual sons: “Our Lord suffers in every creature who is ill.” And then, suddenly taking from his pocket a small gold coin that he had received as a gift, he said “I wish to make the first contribution toward the building of a hospital.”

The idea took hold immediately and the contributions began to pour in. At first they consisted mostly in the small change from a blind man, or the pennies from some child’s bank; but in 1947 Miss Barbara Ward, now Mrs. Jackson, brought 250 million lire to the Casa di Sollievo from UNRRA funds.

The hospital is very large and is provided with all of the most modern equipment of every description, including a department of radio-therapy which is perhaps the best in .the world. Signor Lupi of Pescara was the architect and engineer, and is well known for his many important buildings.

The director of the Casa di Sollievo was the late Dr. Guglielo Sanguinetti, once also an atheist, who left his practice and his clinic in Florence to support the work of the Padre.

A very big statue of St. Francis of Assisi dominates the hospital; it is twenty feet high and was made by a native artist who like Cimabue and Andrea de Sarto, was once a shepherd and modeled little figures out of clay as he watched his sheep. His name is Antonio Berti and he now teaches in the Accademia delle Belle Arti in Florence.

Above the hospital is a landing platform for the helicopters that are used to transport the patients who come from a distance. From there shines the “Beacon of Love” whose light is visible at a great distance and reminds travelers at night of Padre Pio and how he serves God on Monte Gargano.

Imprimatur:

.L. Joannes Gregorius Murray Archiepiscopus Sancti Pauli. Paulopoli die 27a Julii 1955.

Translation by Laura Chanler White ******

Palestine In The Time of Christ

LEONCE DE GRANDMAISON, S.J

INDEX

ST. LUKE tells us that John the Baptist began his preaching in “the fifteenth year of the reign of Tiberius Caesar, Pontius Pilate being governor of Judea, and Herod being tetrarch of Galilee, and Philip his brother tetrarch of Ituraea and the country of Trachonitis, and Lysanius tetrarch of Abilina: under the high priests Annas and Caiaphas . . .” (Luke iii. 1–2). This medley of names, titles and duties warns us from the start that we have to deal with a complex state of affairs. The fact is that the political unity re-established in Palestine by Herod the Idumaean at the cost of an atrocious war of three years” duration (40–37 B.C.) had been again broken down. This half-Jew, crafty and cruel, who was to complete his reign with the massacre of the Innocents, did at least enforce order and obtained, even if he did not merit it, the name of “the Great.” He reigned from 37 to 4 B.C.

In his time the Temple was magnificently rebuilt, peace was maintained, the pride of the sacerdotal families was humbled, and the marked hellenism of the prince, together with his constant devotion to the more powerful of the Romans, was limited by a sure instinct for the critical point beyond which Jewish endurance would give place to despair and revolt. The dark intrigues of the palace and the unforgivable murders which blackened the last years of the reign did not prevent Augustus from ratifying the chief features of the Idumaean’s will. This divided his land between his three surviving sons-he had put to death his three elder sons. By this will, Archelaus received Judea; Herod Antipas (who beheaded John the Baptist and appears in the story of the Passion) was given Galilee and Peraea; while Ituraea and the north-eastern districts went to Philip.

By the year 30 only the last two retained their dominions. In Judea (properly so-called) Archelaus made himself so unpopular that his subjects forwarded to Rome a petition against him. Augustus received it in A.D. 6 and in consequence placed the province directly under a Roman magistrate, who was a mere procurator (we should call him a Lieutenant-Governor) of the Pro-Consul of Syria, and resided on the coast at Caesarea, whence communication with Rome was none too easy. His habitual absence from Jerusalem, to which he went every year with a strong escort at the time of the Feast of the Passover, together with the care taken by the Romans to leave to subject peoples a portion or a shadow of autonomy, meant that the high council of the nation, the Sanhedrin, which had been almost abolished during Herod’s reign, regained a certain amount of independence. Composed of seventy-one members, “princes of the priests” (chiefs of the principal families of sacerdotal caste), “scribes” (doctors expert in the interpretation of the Law), and “elders” (senators), the Sanhedrin was presided over at great functions by the high priest. In the time of Jesus, this tribunal was in actual fact the sole Jewish authority in matters political and religious. . . .

We see in the Judea of those days, less perhaps than elsewhere, but in the same way, rich and poor, “the great ones of the flesh” and the small, persons of quality and the populace. As always happens, the first class are the better known to us: it is they who, in very great measure, make history, and it is always they who write it. And it is chiefly with them that we are concerned in this chapter. But if we were to forget the others we should run the danger of not understanding the Gospels, and it is the Gospels which offer us the most vivid pictures of these. Leisured artisans, and fishermen who could be more easily detached from their boats than labourers could be uprooted from their soil, the apostles of Jesus almost all belonged to that little world of true Israelites, without guile and without artifice, formed on the model made familiar to us by the Wisdom literature and the Psalms.

The Master praised them in the person of Nathaniel (John i. 47) and, which is much more, he called them to him. Jewish scholars who strive to explain and to diminish the contrast between the Gospel and the Pharisaic ideal, locate the difference in the fact that, far from repulsing these men as incapable of sharing in the Kingdom of God, Jesus opened the door wide to them. He went lower than that, even to sinners and publicans, but chiefly he talked familiarly and in friendly fashion with the ignorant, the rude, and “this accursed multitude which knoweth not the Law” (John vii. 49).

Above these masses of the people we find, ruling them or at least distinct from them, at this per iod in Judea, “the rich and prudent” whose importance was assured to them by their birth, fortune and knowledge of the Law.

The Herodians are three times mentioned in the Gospels (Mark iii. 6, xii. 13; Matt. xxii. 16). Without constituting a particular sect, analogous to those which will be described below, these politicians, who were resigned to the Roman rule, and were devoted to or rallied to the power of the Idumaean princes, were recruited from the families which the state of affairs existing under the Herods had not too much offended or injured. They saw in this government a more or less tolerable middle term half-way between total subjection to the Empire and an independence which they no longer believed to be possible. The words spoken at the meeting of the Sanhedrin about the miracles and increasing popularity of Jesus express very fairly the timid wisdom of the Herodians and the proximity of Rome which made them desire, and almost love, the scarcely national dynasty of the Herods.

At the other extremity of the political rainbow, a turbulent, fanatical group, the Zealots, were jealous observers of the Law, and, as such, were Pharisees and no more. What enabled Josephus to distinguish them from the main body of the Pharisees was the fact that, being before all .else nationalists, the Zealots were the declared enemies of all foreign domination. Already formed in Gospel times, this turbulent minority increased as a consequence of the troubles which followed the ephemeral reign of Herod Agrippa I, who died in 44. It fomented and fanned the successive revolts which led to the capture and sack of Jerusalem in 70.

The Essenes, who are known only through occasional (though detailed and friendly) passages in Philo, Josephus and Pliny the Elder, have greatly aroused the curiosity of scholars and have driven not a few amateur historians to delirium. They formed cenobitical groups, freely recruited, and their chief centres were situated around the Dead Sea. According to Josephus they numbered as many as four thousand. Their origin is unknown: but traces of them are found possibly towards the middle, and certainly towards the end of the first century B.C. After undergoing a postulancy of one year, they were initiated and given a knife, a belt and a white robe. They kept themselves, worked with their hands, as a general rule preserved celibacy, did not keep slaves and did not engage in commerce.

As all goods were held in common, meals were taken together, with a grave and religious solemnity. Their scrupulous, concerted, almost ritualistic care of personal cleanliness, and their abstention from blood sacrifices, might make us think that the Essenes were very different from other Israelites.

In reality, they were (although following their own particular course) true Jews, faithful to the fundamental beliefs of Judaism, strict observers of the Law, and especially of the Sabbatarian precepts, great readers of the Holy Books, who sent their offerings regularly to the Temple at Jerusalem. If Schurer goes too far in calling them “decided Pharisees” (for their faith seems rather to have turned towards the immortality of the soul than to the resurrection of the body), if certain characteristics seem to betray foreign origin and discipline (possibly Greek or Pythagorean, more probably Iranian), the Essenes remain for all essentials within the religious body of Israel. In any case, nothing could differ more from primitive Christianity, which could at the most see in them an example, when for some time it put into practice at Jerusalem the common holding of property. In other respects, that is to say in almost all its characteristics (its rigid legalism, its scrupulous attention to corporal and saving purifications, its moral rigorism extending normally to prohibition of marriage, and its aloofness from all that was sinful, common or profane), the Order was absolutely contrary to the spirit and the habits of Jesus. It could be more justly asked whether certain of the Master’s criticisms were not aimed at the refinements and exclusiveness of the Essenes . . .

Let us come to the great parties, which were opponents and rivals on many points, but which a common interest could partially draw together and unite against Jesus: the Sadducees and the Pharisees. The distant origin of these sects has been sought for in their conflicting tendencies, the one rigidly Jewish, the other more open to foreign influences, which divided the Jewish leaders throughout the period which followed the return from exile in the middle of the sixth century.

At first the severe tendency, closed to all compromise, which was favoured by the leaders of the migration, Esdras and Nehemias, and by the fact that the greater number of the social leaders of the people had remained in Mesopotamia, undoubtedly reigned supreme. It is the period of the Soferim, i.e., the commentators on the book par excellence, the Sefer-ha-torah (Book of the Law). Promulgated again among this group of devout Jews, the Law became truly the form of this people, in the Aristotelian sense of the word, the intimate regulator of its life, its specific principle of order and of hierarchy. In it was sought every rule for public and private organisation, every solution for the extremely complex cases which were raised by the return to Judea of the caravans from Persia, coming as they were amongst a scattered population of pagan or semi-pagan occupiers. From this necessity there sprang the important occupation of the scribe, the commentator on the sole rule of God. Sprung generally from modest origins, often laymen, though not always (Esdras himself was of the sacerdotal caste), the scribes favoured with all their power whatever tended to separate Israel from the people amongst whom they lived, with the object of restoring an autonomous state. Mixed marriages, therefore, intercourse with pagans or the semi-Jews of Samaria, and anything approaching idolatry, were zealously denounced.

On the other hand, some of the most important of the priests who had returned from exile, pastors and leaders of the people in this theocracy in which the two powers were confounded, remained in contact with the Persian authorities, and even went so far as to unite themselves in marriage with influential families not of pure Jewish race. Such was the case for example, of the high priest Eliasib: he was united to the family of Tobias the Ammonite, and one of his grandsons, the son of Joiadah (and therefore the son and grandson of high priests) married a daughter of Sanaballat the Horonite. And Tobias and Sanaballat, sworn enemies of Nehemias, opposed with all their might the rebuilding of the walls of Jerusalem undertaken by the latter.

We can see in these two tendencies, the one aristocratic and liberal, represented by the high sacerdotal caste, and the other more humble and rigidly closed to all foreign influence, an anticipation of the future.

Yet the origin of the parties of the Sadducees and Pharisees does not go back so far; it must be sought in the obscure period which separates the end of the era of the scribes and the death of Simon the Just from the brutal attempt of Antiochus Epiphanes to hellenise the country (roughly 270–175 B.C.).

Then was completely shattered the unity of the sacerdotal and learned oligarchy, the legendary “Great Synagogue” of later Jewish tradition, which maintained on the whole for two centuries, despite varying fortunes, a certain general understanding amongst those faithful to the Law. Whatever form that assembly may have had (and we must not be too quick to see in it the features of the future Sanhedrin), it united the double authority of the great priestly families and the doctors (priests or laymen) who gave the people from day to day the interpretation of the Law. The members of the first group, who were the more rigid the more liberty they took for themselves, and were satisfied with a literalism which cut short all casuistical discussion, stood theoretically, if not practically, for the written Law without gloss. The others strove to give to the sacred texts a flexibility which would enable them to be adapted to a change of circumstances; this they sought to do by the double means of a subtle exegesis of the letter of the law, and a traditional interpretation, a kind of oral law, which later took form in the Mishna. It was probably on that point that the separation took place.

From whichever side the initiative came, the somewhat ill-sounding name of the Separated (peruchim, Pharisees) was applied to those who abandoned the high authorities of the Temple. Thus it was indicated that they formed a body apart and were seceders. They themselves did not call themselves by this name, but preferred that of haberim (colleagues, companions, fellow-workers). But the other name prevailed, and it is as Pharisees that all ancient tradition knew them. In contradistinction to them, and before political circumstances led them to reintroduce certain Pharisees into the supreme council of the nation, the representatives of the priestly caste were called or called themselves the sons of Sadoc (Sadducees), in allusion no doubt to a prince of the priests of the time of David and Solomon, Sadoc, whose real or fictitious descendants were regarded as the sacerdotal family par excellence.

Each party was wedded to its own opinions, while the mass of the people, naturally closer to the Pharisees, oscillated between currents which sometimes came near to intermingling, only speedily to resume their separate and often antagonistic courses. The Sadducees were ambitious, and consequently opportunist, very tolerant in the matter of alliances, understandings, and compromises with pagans and half-Jews, hard towards the poorer people; they were unscrupulous in increasing their personal fortunes from the enormous contributions of money and other offerings which flowed into the Temple from all parts of the Holy Land and from the Dispersion, but they professed an unswerving conservatism in matters of the Law. They reduced the whole of Revelation, at least all that was of absolute authority, to the five books of Moses, rejecting or disputing, as illegitimate or imaginary, more recently developed beliefs on the resurrection of the body, the world of spirits, and the Messianic Kingdom. The Law alone, and in its strict letter, was of weight with them. It was less as priests (many of the priests were Pharisees) than as aristocrats and leaders of a dominant faction, as interpreters of Revelation and of the Law, that this minority, full of haughtiness towards the lowly, and bending only to the great, stood in opposition to the Pharisees. These men, well-born and endowed with worldly goods, looked with jealousy on the progress of a caste formed outside themselves, and criticised their adversaries as innovators and rebels. They deplored the growing prestige brought to the Pharisees by their zeal, their knowledge, and their rigorism. They found these casuists an obstacle and an embarrassment.

But we should not imagine that the whole Sadducean party was of the type stigmatised by the Talmud

“House of Boethus? Woe is me!

Woe is me by reason of their bludgeons.

House of Annas? Woe is me!

Woe is me by reason of their viperish hissings.

House of Cantharos? Woe is me!

Woe is me by reason of their calumnies.

House of Ismael, sons of Phabi? Woe is me!

Woe is me by reason of their clenched hands.

They are high priests, their sons are treasurers, their sons-in-law are inspectors of the Temple, and their footmen belabour the people with clubs.”

We must not judge the whole party by the radically exclusive members, and the insolently secular attitude of the families which monopolised the office of high priest. Scholars are inclined to see in the Ecclesiasticus of Jesus the son of Sirach a book that is representative of the primitive Sadducees; from this we should have to conclude that the sect had a theology of its own, though very conservative in nature, and that it treated the prophets with honour, if it did not put them on a level with the five books of the Law. . . .

As opposed to the Essenes, dreamers absorbed in moral and ritual matters, and the Sadducees, aristocrats by race and politicians by instinct, the “Companions” (haberim), the “Devout” (chasidim)who soon came to be called the Pharisees and have remained such for us-formed a party which was before all things religious and national, a kind of Holy League, the Jewish party pure and simple. Their whole aim was in the first place to purge the people of God who had returned to the Promised Land, from foreign infiltrations and influence, and then to preserve them from the aggressive, cunning and sometimes (as in the time of the Seleucidae) violent propaganda of surrounding paganism. In this defence of the Jewish spirit and customs, the essential wall or, to use a metaphor dear to the rabbis, the protecting hedge of Jahweh’s vine, was the Law of Moses. Recruited from all classes of society, including the most humble, without distinction of priests and laity, and counting among their number the majority of the intellectuals, scribes and doctors, the Pharisees were thus before all the men of the Law: its interpreters, its avengers, and at need its martyrs. St. Paul, when he wishes to express his passionate attachment to the Law, is content to say: “An Hebrew of the Hebrews. According to the law, a Pharisee” (Phil. iii. 5). In saying that, he says all.

In their absolute trust in the Torah, some inclined to make it independent, to some extent, even of God. The collection called The Sentences of the Fathers, which represents Pharisaism in its most authentic aspect, and gives us the best of it for the period reaching from the first century B.C. to the end of the second century A.D., practically identifies the scribe with the saint: knowledge of the Law sanctifies after the manner of a sacrament. Rabbi Meir (about 135) said: “Everyone who gives himself to the study of the Torah for its own sake is worthy of every good. What is more, the whole world and its fulness is not worth more than he.”

In these thoroughly religious pages God is scarcely named. The Law takes up all the space, because, for a Pharisee, it virtually signifies the whole of divine truth, so far as it is accessible to the human mind. And they had for it the respect .that is due to God: the most innocent distraction during the study of the Torah is culpable, as being one which interrupts a prayer.

Rabbi Jacob (who died in 175) said: “If a man walks about while studying [the Torah] and interrupts his study to say “How beautiful is that tree”, or “How beautiful is that wild spot!”, Scripture holds such words to be a sin which makes his soul guilty.”

In this way the Pharisee drew from the Law the rules for the whole conduct of his life, private and public. This last fact, which endowed the scribe with the very power of the State, was bound to lead to conflicts with the political powers. And in fact neither the Hasmonaean princes from the time of John Hyrcanus, excluding the personal reign of the old Queen Alexandra (78–69 B.C.), nor the Idumaeans accepted this tutelage. But whether favoured or suspected, sometimes even persecuted, the Separated never ceased to be feared by reason of their power with the people. This power, which Josephus states, with obvious exaggeration, to have been practically unlimited, was certainly great and often preponderant. It was based in great part on the manner in which the Pharisees had decentralised and in a certain sense laicised and democratised the religion of Israel. The Temple remained its centre; the hegemony of the great priestly families, and especially of the high priest, continued to be exercised; but even there, in the Temple, the Pharisees had their influence, and had caused daily prayers to be established, and instituted a sort of delegation of pious laity representing the people of Israel at the daily sacrifice. Outside the Temple, by means of the synagogue and worship in the home, they had severed the line which bound the whole religion of the people to the Temple. The rabbi and the father of the family tended more and more to supplant the Levite and the priest. Finally, in matters casuistical and the application of the Law to daily life by means of subtle exegeses and traditional interpretation, a sort of unwritten Law commenting upon the written one-in these matters the Pharisees were supreme, and for an Israelite desirous of devoutly fulfilling his duties, indispensable. Women especially (as Josephus noted) looked upon them as their oracle.

Less dependent than the chosen priesthood on political vicissitudes, less entangled than the Zealots in militant xenophobia, the bulk of the Pharisees represented, from the time of the Machabees to the fall of Jerusalem, the kernel of Israel, the heart of Judaism, by their ardour in observing, imposing and explaining the Law, by their minute knowledge, which though literal and rigid was yet real, by the hold which their puritanism gave them over the people, and by the religious feeling which made them favour the more purified and spiritual doctrines.

So, too, it was through the Separated that the Jewish people survived the appalling catastrophes of the first and second centuries. The barriers established, or re-erected, around the race; the traditions jealously maintained within these closed groups; the supple resistance which gave way only in order to obtain; the political opportunism which bowed to every de facto government to snatch from each of them toleration and the maximum of possible concessions; the enormous mass of sayings, prescriptions, decisions, and recollections which crystallised into the two Talmuds: all these are the work of the Pharisees. And it is sufficient to read the Gospels to see the preponderant part played by them in the opposition encountered by Christ.

This very opposition makes impartiality more difficult for the Christian historian towards the principal enemies of Jesus. But he himself has plainly taught us that truth alone delivers. And while proving that they became by their blind obstinacy and the malice of their leaders the enemies of the Kingdom of God, we willingly acknowledge that the Pharisees played a useful and sometimes a glorious part during the century and a half which preceded our era. Those who spied upon Jesus were the descendants, buried in the formalism of the Law, and sometimes poisoned by sterile pride, of the great men who had freed Israel from the yoke of the Gentiles at the price of their blood. All that was best in the literature which preceded the advent of Christ bore as a rule the imprint of the beliefs, the hopes, and the passions which were theirs. And even in the time of the Saviour, an impressive minority did not sin against the light. In this matter the Acts of the Apostles are very helpful in completing the testimony borne by the Gospels. They show us in the youthful Church a great number of recruits from the party of the Pharisees; beginning with St. Paul, they were not the most unimportant.

In conclusion we must note that, while stigmatizing their merciless literalism, their complacent casuistry and their pride, Jesus aimed much more at the vices of conduct, the abuse of holy things, the canonization of human tradition, the ill-inspired zeal of the Separated, than at their doctrinal position. On the characteristic questions of the resurrection of the body, the existence and the action of spiritual forces, the Master was in agreement with them. Nor did he disdain to employ (though moderately) their exegetical methods. He acknowledged their relative authority in the domain of the interpretation of the Law: “The Scribes and Pharisees have sitten on the chair of Moses. All things therefore whatsoever they sayto you, observe and do: but according to their works do ye not” (Matt. xxiii. 2–3).

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Parent And Child

WHY PARENT EDUCATION TODAY

BY DOM EDGAR SCHMIEDELER, O.S.B., PH.D

INDEX

THERE is every justification for Catholics to show the deepest interest in the so-called Parent Education Movement of our day. In his Encyclical on Christian Education the Holy Father refers to this modern development in particularly emphatic terms.

“We wish,” he says, “to call your attention in a special manner to the present -day lamentable decline in family education. The offices and professions of a transitory and earthly life, which are certainly of far less importance, are prepared for by long and careful study: whereas for the fundamental duty and obligation of educating their children, many parents have little or no preparation, immersed as they are in temporal cares.”

Then follow words of condemnation of the practice of sending children away from home even in their tenderest years “for economic reasons, or for reasons of industry, trade or politics,” and also a strong appeal to pastors of souls to interest themselves in parent education.

A recent writer in a noted magazine for ecclesiastics shows strikingly why there is an imperative need for parent education, particularly in our present changing world.

“We are living,” he says, “in a new age called by some the Age of Speed. Times have changed, and time-honoured customs and institutions have gone by the board. The old-fashioned home is fast passing away. The family bond has been burst asunder by the personal and independent self-seeking of the individual. Life is more complex. Children assert their so-called personal rights at a very early age. In this respect the modern child is precocious for the exaggerated notion of independence has had its effect upon the young, impressionable mind. With the breaking-up of the home, both parents and children seek their recreation outside the family circle. The streets and the theatres exert a greater influence than the common sleeping place called home. The task of rearing children has become more complicated, and in a way burdensome. Parents have not responded to this new task. Many of them would like to but they do not know how.”

These words are followed, like those of the Holy Father, by an earnest plea for better guidance with regard to child training, for a suitable literature on the subject, and for a renewed realisation on the part of parents generally of the tremendous importance of the early impressionable years of the child-the years ordinarily spent almost exclusively within the home circle. In a word, they are followed by a plea for Catholic parent education.

One can readily agree with the writer quoted above that training of parents has become a necessity, certainly much more of a need, at least, than it was in times past. When parenthood was less difficult than it is today, formal education or specific instruction and guidance from extra-domestic sources as a preparation for family life was far less essential. Domestic life was reasonably successful without it. Parental love, native intelligence, and Christian understanding, coupled with favourable environmental circumstances, enabled many parents quite satisfactorily to fulfil their obligations towards their children. Through normal contacts within the confines of the little home world the children gradually learned the lessons of life that prepared them for the tasks of founding their own homes and rearing their own families. Step by step children became equipped with the knowledge and practice of home-making, their training usually ranging all the way from the mere physical side of housekeeping to the religious and moral training of children.

But social conditions have changed during the past few decades. and one of the unfortunate results is found in the fact that the more informal education in the homes of the past has largely broken down. The shared activities of work and play within the domestic realm have more and more gone by the way. The whole question of child training has become more difficult. Family life in general has become more involved and complex. We now have an enormously complex individual coming into contact with an equally involved and constantly changing environment.

No sincere parent, I am sure, would question the statement that the responsibility for the training of their children and for providing them with the suitable environment in which to grow up belongs to the parents, and should be assumed by them, nor is there any problem more worthy of the parents’ time and effort than precisely that of caring for the physical life of their children-a matter so essential for their general well-being- as well as for their mental, moral and social development, in order that they may grow up efficient and happy adults.

It goes without saying, however, that if parents are to meet this obligation adequately and successfully, it is necessary they take the task seriously, and that they give the subject of child training the thought and attention that it deserves. Particularly today does the role of parent educator in its fulfilment involve much more than merely loving a child and being interested in his welfare, Born with a certain inherited equipment, what a child becomes, within the limits imposed by inheritance, is dependent not only upon love and affection, but also upon the intelligence and understanding of those adults who come in contact with him.

However, understanding children and their behaviour problems is not only a matter of intuitive or inborn knowledge on the part of parents. Nor is it merely a matter of eager desire to meet their full responsibilities towards their children. Rather is it, in great part at least, the result of acquired knowledge; in other words, of hard study, of much hard study of the physical, mental and social needs of many children as well as the determination of the particular needs of each individual child. Acquired knowledge is necessary for this, just as it is for any other important task.

Fortunately, there is at hand today an ever-increasing fund of scientific facts regarding the development of children. During recent decades a whole host of scientists have been centring their attention upon the study of the pre-school child, and after the wheat has been sifted from the chaff not a few sound kernels remain. Still a mere accumulation of such scientific facts does not necessarily make for progress with regard to the problems of child care and guidance. These findings of science must be popularised; they must be disseminated, or, in other words, brought within reach of the average people. It is, in fact, a conscious attempt on the part of organisations and agencies that deal with child life to interest parents in the newer knowledge of children as well as a conscious effort on the part of parents to avail themselves of this knowledge and thereby gain an understanding attitude towards their children as developing personalities.

The truth is, however, that to date Catholics have given comparatively little attention to this movement. Only a few of their number are found engaged in this particular field of activity. Catholic schools have given the matter scant attention. Our literature on the subject is very limited. Yet, as the words of the Holy Father imply, there is every reason for the keenest interest in this work on the part of Catholics. In fact, there is an imperative need for such interest. After all, it is in the home that we must look for the ounce of prevention of our social problems, rather than for the pound of cure after the damage is done. Moreover, parent education should go a long way in creating a much-needed renewed interest in home life today. It should also go far in reinstating the home again as the primary educational agency.

In the following few pages the writer hopes to open up this field, at least to some small extent, to Catholic parents, by setting forth a few specific principles and practical rules for guidance in their tasks of child training.

II

GUIDES FOR THE TRAINING OF CHILDREN

It is quite likely that if parents would approach the field of parent education by first of all turning the searchlight of inquiry upon themselves, investigating their own attitude towards child training, and studying their own methods of fulfilling their obligations in this vital field of activity, not a few of them would find themselves fitting into one of the three following groups: First, parents who are too strict; second, those who are too lenient; third, those who are inconsistent or alternating in disciplining their children. Careful observation shows that many parents do, as a matter of fact, fall into one of these three categories. Wholesome discipline, however, lies in a consistent, middle-of-the-way course between the extremes of strictness and laxity.

There are not a few parents who rule their homes like autocrats. They are over-strict and severe. Excessive punishment, ceaseless bickering, and endless restriction make the home anything but inviting to the children. The result is only too frequently the cultivation of a disputatious or rebellious character, or of a silent and sullen antagonism, instead of the development of a spirit of loyalty to parent and home. Deceit and double-dealing may even be resorted to by children in such homes in their efforts to escape punishment.

No doubt autocratic parents get a certain thrill out of the realisation that their children obey them with unquestioned obedience. But the proper training of children is of far greater importance than a little selfish bit of pride or pleasure on the part of parents. The important question is whether, under such rigid rule, children will develop a wholesome degree of moral independence and self-control. In other words, will they, on leaving the parental nest, be able to stand on their own two feet in the world?

More common today than a discipline that is too rigid is undoubtedly one that is too weak and easy-going. As there are parents who are autocrats, so also there are parents who are little less than servants to their children. Such parents may be simply of an easy-going temperament, or certain environmental circumstances may account for their leniency and failure. The spirit of “do as you please,” for example, is very much in the air these days and is extremely contagious. Some parents, too, may actually persuade themselves that they can train their children by yielding to them. They give in to all their childish whims and tantrums as the easiest, if not the only, way of maintaining peace and quiet.

Yet these parents must certainly realise that by countenancing such a philosophy of the easiest way they are simply leaving their children unprepared for life. The world into which these youngsters must eventually be turned is emphatically a world of hard knocks. Young people whose rule of life is to avoid what is difficult and to go through with those projects only which appeal to their sense of ease and comfort are the raw material from which the failures of life are formed.

This may sound like old-fashioned doctrine, but it is doctrine that is decidedly in need of greater emphasis today. Most frequent of all and most disastrous is the union of license and severity in the home. In this instance the parents are inconsistent, spasmodic in their dealings with their children. First they pet, and then they punish: one minute they coax into good behaviour, and the next they scold abusively; today they condemn a certain act, and tomorrow they pass it by unnoticed.

It is not to be wondered at that, under the circumstances, children scarcely know what is expected of them. Nor will they ordinarily fail totake a chance because of their parents’ changing humour, so that they can extort bribery and affection when they want it. Thinking their parents guide more by whim than by principle, the children may even lose all respect for them and all confidence in them.

In this connection it is also well to observe that differences in judgment on the part of parents should always be settled in private, and not be paraded in the presence of the children. If the parents make use of two opposite codes or standards-that is, if one constantly shields and spoils, while the other remains ever stern and unyielding-then the methods of each stultify those of the other. The fact is that the union of license and severity in the home, whether in the person of one and the same capricious parent or in two parents with opposite standards, is both very common in practice and decidedly harmful in effect.

The type of discipline required of parents will, of course, have to depend to some extent upon the disposition of the particular child that is being dealt with, but it must always be a consistent discipline, and in general must lie between the two extremes of severity and laxity.

Obedience in the home is quite compatible with wholesome and wholehearted democracy therein. In fact, a proper degree of independence, initiative, and freedom must be recognised and encouraged. Without these there can be no developments, no virtue or self-control. A policy of repression stunts and kills, or it incites to rebellion with the subsequent necessity of a host of laws and regulations, all unwelcome because imposed from without.

On the other hand, to permit a child to range entirely at its own will is to prepare it not only for failure in every worthy conflict of life, but in all likelihood for shame and disgrace as well. A controlled freedom should be aimed at.

There are certain general rules that may well be brought to the attention of parents if their training of children is to be effective under modern conditions of living.

1) First of all, parents do well to realise that there can be no training at a distance; hence they must go out of their way, if necessary, to keep close to their children and to enter, so far as possible, into their work and play. Under the older economic order of more rural times, parent and child were brought together and largely shared work and play and all this automatically and without special effort on their part. Under the newer and present order which prevails, particularly in cities. this has been radically changed. Economic and social conditions tend to build an ever-widening chasm between parent and child. The companionship that formerly came about automatically must today be carefully planned and even sacrificed for. It must be brought about by more artificial effort.

(2) Again, parents should realise that the training of the child is not only the mother’s, but also the father’s task. It is particularly difficult for many fathers today to spend much time with their children; hence they must learn to make the most of their time with them. In other words, they must learn to take an active interest in the hobbies and sports of their children. The child, whether boy or girl, who comes under the guidance of only one parent is in much the same position as a half-orphan and will be very liable to suffer a one-sided development.

(3) Another point that parents do well to bear in mind, particularly in this day of a rapidly-disappearing, patriarchal family system, is the importance of their winning the loyalty of their children and of playing the role of sympathetic confidants to them. If a father and mother are trusted friends and confidential advisers to their children in the frank and open years of early teens, it is reasonable to hope that they will continue to serve in this highly important capacity during the more secretive years of adolescence and afterwards.

Certainly it is worthy of the highest commendation that children bring all their problems, troubles, and doubts to father and mother for solution, but such will be the case only when the parents are truly companions, friends, and confidants to their little ones. The significance of this vital matter cannot easily be exaggerated.

Child guidance cannot, of course, be reduced entirely to rule-of-thumb methods. Yet it is equally true that, over and above the general guides laid down in the preceding pages for parents, some more specific rules can be suggested that should prove beneficial to them in their tasks of rearing their children.

Many parents, in fact, eagerly welcome such proffered helps. Matters of child discipline frequently perplex them. They are often at a loss as to the best course of action to follow, perhaps well aware, too, that the decision that must be given will have its bearing on the future life of the child. Shall they punish, or shall they praise? Shall they allow, or shall they refuse? The decision is often not an easy one to make, nor does the matter depend merely upon the convenience of the parent or upon the order of the household.

While hard and fast formulas that will offer unfailing solutions for all such possible cases are out of the question, it is equally certain that some helpful guiding principles can be offered the parent. Several are suggested in the following that are apparently among the more practical and far-reaching.

(1) As few commands as possible should be given to children. Over-correction and domination are naturally resented by the child as they are by the adult.

(2) A child’s attention should be secured before a command is given him. An order shouted haphazardly at a little one who is all preoccupied with some playful activity, that is almost as serious as a matter of life and death to him, will likely be but dimly recognised and but little heeded. For real co-operation attention is altogether necessary.

(3) Commands given a child should be followed up-that is, parents should let it be known firmly and pleasantly that they unfailingly expect obedience. Otherwise all discipline will be speedily undermined.

(4) It is poor policy to bribe a child. He will likely capitalise his disobedience by holding out for a greater bribe the next time. If given a penny to behave today, he will likely expect another, or two of them, to heed your orders tomorrow.

(5) Parents should not expect the impossible of a child. If their commands are reasonable, obedience will be fairly easy on the part of the little one.

(6) Not a few parents incessantly make use of threats in order to gain obedience. Such a habit ordinarily results either in a hampering fear and timidity on the part of the child, or in a realisation that the commands of the parent are futile and their observance or non-observance a matter of trivial importance.

(7) It is particularly worthy of note that once a child has lost confidence in his parents because of deception or other cause, it will be restored only with the greatest difficulty. Hence the unreasonableness of deceiving children in order to gain obedience.

(8) One should be just in dealing with children. In adults the imposition of an unjust command leaves an ugly scar if not even a festering wound; in children it at least lessens their respect for and their confidence in their parents.

A general rule that may well be emphasised is to give a positive rather than a negative turn to efforts in child training. In other words, one should be ready to approve the good acts of a child as one is to condemn the bad ones. Thus, if a child is reproved for eating too many sweets, why not commend him when he faithfully eats his vegetables and fruits?

At times punishment may become necessary in training children within the home. Its aim should always be to bring about regret in the child’s mind. He will not readily repeat that for which he has felt sorrow. Many suggest also that wherever possible punishment should follow naturally from the offence committed. Such a practice, at any rate, would tend to focus the attention of the child on the consequence of his own act, rather than the possible anger or resentment of the parent. An extensive use of corporal punishment in the case of the average child is hardly commendable since it is hard to administer it unemotionally, and harder still to receive it in that manner. Corporal punishment is perhaps more liable to result in defiance or secretiveness than in penitence.

Again, parents should always bear in mind that the proper aim in a child’s upbringing should be to develop self-control and self-training. Hence, at least from his earliest school years, a child should be gradually trained to moral independence. During the pre-school years, of course, his mental capacity is not sufficiently developed for reason to play any considerable part in the training process. The principal method of training during this period. therefore, must almost exclusively depend upon the simple fact that the child will naturally tend to repeat acts which have pleasant consequences, and to avoid those which have unpleasant ones. The unpleasant consequences may result from the undesirable action itself, or they may be artificially attached to the action by the parent, for example, in the form of a scolding or other act of disapproval.

However. while blind obedience is excellent for the young child, it is a mistake to carry it over into later years. Children of school age are old enough to appreciate the reason of things and should be taught them. Ideals and principles should play an ever-increasing part in their training. Thus, the child should be taught to obey not to avoid punishment. but because the law of God expects it of him. Or, again, he should be taught to be truthful, because lying is essentially wrong, and so on with other acts and omissions. If children have learned no reason for being good other than blind obedience to their parents. their good habits will have no permanent force. They will only be make-believe.

III

RELIGIOUS TRAINING IN THE HOME

The sincere Catholic parent realises, of course, that the element of religion should permeate the entire training process of the child. There is no question that the latter’s spiritual realisation is a constructive and preventive power in forming his character.

Particularly are there some very real advantages connected with the early religious training of the child within the home circle. The individual in whose mind the truths of religion are intermingled with his earliest recollections has been especially favoured indeed. The fact that instructions within the family circle is associated with the child’s sentiments of love for his parents lends an appeal in the case of training within the home that is lacking in the more formal training coming from the school or from some other source. On the part of the child himself such qualities as simplicity, faith, curiosity and activity which characterise him in his pre-school years make his religious development a relatively simple matter if only he is brought into contact with the knowledge of God and His truths.

This contact, however, is not brought about automatically. It must be planned for. Special effort on the part of parents is necessary, but it is effort very much worth while.

Children are capable of learning much about their religion during the pre-school years. Studies have shown, for instance, that the average child can have some realisation of God as Creator by the age of three. Again, some children of three years of age will mention heaven as a place where good children go after death. But while the studies show children are capable of such knowledge at the age of three, they show also that many, as a matter of fact, do not come into possession of it until some years later.

So, too, has it been shown that, at the age of three, children can express a number of moral ideas. Yet among many children under six there is lacking practically all religious motivation. Their obedience, for instance, is merely a natural act, quite unrelated to any truths of religion. They obey because their parents demand obedience of them. School children of six years of age, however, are usually found to be quite sensitive to the ideas of religious duty and are readily influenced by religious motives.

Apparently there is but one conclusion to be drawn from the noteworthy difference between the moral ideas of the child just before and immediately after entering school-namely, Catholic parents are not making the best use of their golden opportunities for the religious training of their children during pre-school years. As soon as the child enters the Catholic school he is taught to act from religious motives. Many parents apparently fail to train their children to do this.

IV

MORAL AND SOCIAL TRAINING IN THE HOME

The social training of the child, in other words the development of his character or the shaping of his personality, is first and foremost a task of parents. Whether or not the child will fit into the normal social life of his time will depend in very great measure on the parents’ intelligent efforts in his behalf. From time immemorial has this shaping process been looked upon as fundamentally a parental obligation. It is, of course, still considered so today. In fact, the home seems even more necessary for this function in our present complex civilisation than it was in the simpler environment of the past. In their task of training, the parents should look both to the happiness of the individual and to the common good of society. The training process itself should reach into the innermost recesses of the mind and the heart. It should permeate the very depths of character.

Furthermore, it can hardly be over-emphasised that here, as in the case of religious education, there is need for early training. Infancy is the golden period for setting up proper habits of conduct. The happiness and efficiency of the adult man and women depend in a very large measure upon the type of habits acquired in the training process and in the experiences of early life.Some of the child’s instincts show themselves even in the earliest days of infancy, and their proper development is a matter of utmost importance. In fact it is generally recognised that the individual’s personality is largely formed during the first five years of life-in fact, to no small extent even during the first two or three years. In general outline, at least, the results of these first years will remain through life. All students of human nature recognise that this is the period in which deepest impressions are made. These impressions, consequently, exert an influence upon the whole future of the child.

The impulses towards conduct which last longest and are rooted deepest always have their origin near birth. Early childhood is the age when primitive instincts can be re-directed and modified, when their evil effects can be forestalled or turned into good. It is the age when the foundations of all later developments are laid. Hence, there is a very general recognition of the importance of an intelligent use of this formative period during which personality is so readily influenced.

Nor can it be questioned that the possibilities of the early plastic years are equally great for evil and for good. Thus there are some social qualities which, if not acquired in early childhood are rarely acquired in after life, and then only with great effort and difficulty. So, too, are there certain unsocial tendencies that put in their appearance, which, if left unchecked and unheeded, will speedily grow into rank weeds of vice. It is, therefore, of prime importance to the individual and to society that these vicious tendencies be checked, and that social qualities be diligently cultivated in the earliest years in order that a luxuriant growth of virtue may result. Thus, habits of ill-temper, for example, may develop in a child several years before the use of reason. Left unchecked, they will grow and continue through life, begetting a very unsocial individual.

It is very poor policy, indeed, to permit a small child to do as he pleases, on the theory that “he will grow out of it later.” Such an attitude on the part of the elders can only lead to the growth of incorrigible children and to unsocial and even anti-social adults. On the other hand, early lessons in forbearance and self-denial gently and patiently inculcated can go far towards preserving the child from the development of an evil and unsocial growth.

And so on with other virtuous habits. . With the advance of years the character becomes more pronounced and matured. Yet it ever clings to its first outline and remains true to its earliest impressions. Once strengthened by age, it bends with difficulty. Hence, social economy and progress alike demand that much intelligent effort be centred on the training of the pre-school child. That, of course, is the period in which the family influence is paramount. Normally the home forms the first environment in which the character of the child is to be shaped.

Both congenital, or inborn, as well as non-congenital factors influence the development of personality. In other words the instinctive nature of the child exerts some influence over his development, while his surroundings also play a part in the shaping of his conduct. It is in the former, however, that is, in the individual’s inherited instincts and emotions, that the foundations of character essentially consist. These are the mainsprings of human activity for good or for evil, for social or unsocial conduct. Nor can these hereditary factors be rooted out. They can be trained, however, and as stated, with sufficient care and effort their operations can be modified and their evil effects forestalled. By intelligent coaching their evil possibilities can even be converted into good, yet the tendency itself towards evil will ever remain. In the case of the environmental factors, however, we have a different situation. A person’s surroundings may quite readily be modified, and in not a few cases may also be radically changed.

A realisation of what the fundamental instinctive drive s in human nature are and what the parent educator’s attitude towards them should be as they manifest themselves in the growing child is, of course, of prime importance in the delicate task of shaping a child’s personality. The average Catholic child would be able to name the chief among man’s inborn impulses provided at least that he is questioned in the language of the catechism. This familiar little book lists them under the title of “Capital Sins,” as follows: pride, covetousness, lust, anger, gluttony, envy and sloth.

The instincts indicated by these terms are, of course, in no sense sinful in themselves. They are neutral, their goodness or badness depending on their proper use or their sinful abuse. If permitted to run riot, they become the chief foundations of unsocial characters, the well-springs of moral delinquency. If duly shaped or modified, that is, if properly trained and kept under due control of man’s higher faculties of mind, will, and conscience, they lead to the growth of personal virtues and socialised individuals.

We find also that the term “passion” is at times applied to these impulses. This latter term simply means something that affects us; hence, it may mean either a help to virtue or an inducement to vice, and indeed, any of the passions may lead us either towards virtue or towards vice. The briefest analysis would show that each has a beneficent purpose, that when any one of them is permitted to hold ungoverned sway, or its satisfaction is allowed outside of legitimate channels, it is certain to prove harmful to either individual or society, or even to both.

Thus pride, rightly understood, may be a spur to uprightness and goodness; it may prompt us to acquire virtue, to cultivate wholesome learning, to strive after agreeable habits and that propriety of conduct that becomes our station of life. Ungoverned pride, however, or a vaunted self-assertion, will only lead to the birth and growth of such an unsocial brood as foolish vanity, boorish arrogance, and overbearing haughtiness, qualities not only essentially un-Christian, but also anything but ornamental to character.

Again, covetousness, or acquisitiveness, regulated by prudence and common sense, in reality means the same as thrift or economy. It prompts the individual properly to provide for himself and for his own, both for the present and for the possible “rainy day.” But when left uncontrolled, this passion develops into the vice of avarice; it becomes an in-grown obsession manifesting itself in hoarding or miserliness, or in an inordinate craving for and an all-absorbing love of mammon. It may even show itself in a desire for cruel and relentless domination of others.

So, too, must one distinguish between gluttony and the moderate partaking of food and drink. The latter is necessary for the maintenance of life and health. But if not held in leash, our instinctive appetite may develop into an inordinate craving that will end in injury to both soul and body. It is in this sense-that is, in the satisfaction of an inordinate craving for food and drink-that the term “gluttony” is properly used.

Or, again, there is the capital sin, so-called, of sloth. Sloth and idleness go hand in hand. It has rightly become proverbial that an idle person is an easy prey for the powers of evil. The laws of nature prompt us to conserve our energy and to restore it by due rest and relaxation. They do not demand, however, that this conserving process be overdone. To conserve our energy at the expense of duty and our best interests is simply to be slothful or lazy.

And so on with the other passions of capital sins -envy, anger, and the sex instinct. Then, too, there are other emotional well-springs in human nature besides the seven capital ones. There are, for instance, the milder influences of fear, self-submission, play, and love or affection.

Several guiding principles regarding the training of the instincts suggest themselves. Thus one important principle that should be followed is to foster the milder instincts. Arousing and encouraging the developmentof the individual’s more amiable and humane emotions and desires will go a considerable distance in counteracting any hidden tendency, for instance, to cruelty or harshness, to spiteful, hateful, or other unsocial emotional reactions. With the gentle and milder instincts of tenderness and sympathy well established, the more vehement influences of anger, acquisitiveness, and selfassertion or pride, and such like will naturally be neutralised and restrained. It is highly essential that the good impulses be aroused and that evil ones be offset, and this should begin in the earliest years.

Among the first emotions to show themselves in the child are fear, anger, and pleasure, or the rudiments of love and affection. These may show themselves during the first months of infancy; others follow later. At about the third year, for instance, jealousy, cruelty, self-assertion may be found to some extent in the average child. Practically all inherent personality weaknesses will manifest themselves during the pre-school years-that is, during the first five or six years of the child’s life. By way of example, attention in some detail may well be given to the three so-called primary emotions- fear, anger, affection.

With regard to fear, the parent already sees indications of this emotion during the first months of the newborn babe’s life. The sudden removal of support, for instance, will produce a fear response consisting in a sudden catching of breath, in a closing of the eyelids, or even in crying. The child can be taught to manifest fear in many different ways.

It is not good policy, however, to make a child fearful. Rather should the simple rule be observed that little ones should never unnecessarily be frightened. Although many careless adults take it as a joke, frightening children may readily be a serious matter. The fearful child has a serious handicap. Only too frequently does he develop a permanent sense of discouragement and failure, resulting in hesitation and unwillingness to tackle anything worthwhile or difficult. It is very questionable whether a child who has been made timid and shrinking in his early years can ever again regain his natural open manner and successfully assert himself.

Most fears are caused by some experience through which the individual has had to pass in early life. Thus this instinct may be aroused by threats of bogeymen or policemen, by threats of leaving the child alone, or by terrifying punishments. Or, again, the child may be made fearful by telling him tragic stories or by forcing him into new and strange situations in the hope of accustoming him to them. Moreover, parents, and especially mothers, seem not to realise to what great extent their own acquired fears are passed on unconsciously to their children.

Anger is also one of the so-ca lled primary instincts, one that shows itself in the earliest days of the child’s life. In the infant, this emotion is commonly caused by holding the child tightly or in any way restraining his movements. Later on any blocking, thwarting or hampering of the individual’s free actions may give rise to anger.

Founded in human nature itself, every individual will experience this emotion from time to time. Unless properly controlled, it readily leads to very undesirable conduct. If the individual does not learn to control it through education and experience, it will eventually control him.

But the control of this passion, so-called, if it is to be of real value, must come from within the child, and should not be something super-imposed from without. Anger, for instance, that is merely pent up because of fear of punishment, is only too likely to explode violently at an altogether inopportune time. Particularly is it essential that self-control in regard to this instinct be established very early in life.

One of the most common manifestations of anger in children is the so-called temper tantrum. Any normal child, of course, will show an occasional bit of temper, but the little one who meets every difficult situation in life with chronic irritability, or even with dramatic and uncontrolled outburst, is in grave danger of developing many personality defects which will make him an unhappy and inadequate individual for life.

When one searches into the causes of tantrums, it becomes apparent that in not a few cases the attitude of parents is responsible for the outbursts of temper on the part of children. Again, it may merely be due to imitation. Thus, if the parents are peevish, irritable, and given to outbursts of anger in the presence of children, the chances are that they in turn will be forced to witness similar exhibitions on the part of their little ones.

Then, too, children often must suffer because of irritability on the part of their parents, an irritability for which they may in no way be responsible. Some trivial annoyance vexes the parent, and the child must bear the brunt of the resultant peevishness or manifestation of temper. Under the circumstances, conduct on the part of the child that would ordinarily be passed unnoticed now calls forth severe reprimands. The child, of course, feels the injustice of such treatment and may even rebel against it. This but leads to further trouble.

Moreover, children are often thoughtlessly subjected to much unnecessary humiliation, teasing, and ridicule by parents or by other grown-ups. In many instances such conduct on the part of adults is not due to any spirit of unkindness, but is simply prompted by the enjoyment which they derive from observing the child’s reactions. They are quite unaware, perhaps, of the harmful social effects that may ultimately flow from their actions. Finally, there is no doubt that a cold, forbidding indifference towards the child by the busy and often irritated parent is frequently the cause of unhappy moods in children.

The pleasurable emotion that is later to develop into love or affection shows itself already in simple responses in the early days of infancy. The wise parent will endeavour to develop this emotion along salutary lines, causing it to blossom forth into the full bloom of normal affection. It will then bring to the individual himself much contentment, and will also make him a source of happiness to others.

The importance of this emotion can hardly be exaggerated. We know that love, the love, namely, of God and fellowman, is the very heart and soul of Christianity. It should, then, be cultivated with most painstaking care.

Sheer love of self, or rank selfishness, on the other hand, is essentially pagan and should consequently be diligently guarded against. The earliest life of the child tends to be dominated by his selfish strivings. He endeavours to gather unto himself everything within his reach and to make it his own. He constantly demands the attention of those about him. In his struggles for attainment, however, he is often thwarted and repulsed, ignored and neglected. Failing in his own efforts on the one hand, and seeing others succeed while he loses on the other, causes him not a few difficulties. And many of these trying experiences of his daily life, instead of developing in him a spirit of love and affection, tend to arouse in him that perversion of the love instinct that is called jealousy.

By jealousy we mean that unpleasant feeling induced by any interference or attempt to thwart us in our efforts to gain a loved object, whether a person, power, possession, or position.

By the very nature of the emotion it carries with it a lowering of self-valuation followed by humiliation, concealment and shame. The jealous child encounters many difficulties in dealing with his playmates. He becomes self-centred and readily develops a sense of failure and of lowered self-esteem. He feels wronged and neglected. Later in life this emotion brings about an inability to share in the joys of others and make it impossible to see others succeed without feeling resentment. At times it eventuates in anger towards the object of jealousy or produces a desire for revenge and retaliation. Not infrequently, even, does it cause the individual to withdraw himself and to hide his feelings under the cloak of indifference. Such a person is always more or less unhappy. He feels diffident, depressed, and strained. His conduct is naturally affected.

There are many things in the normal life of the average child that may give rise to feelings of jealousy. For instance, there is the arrival of a new baby in the home. It is altogether commendable that, in case of such an event in a family, care be taken to let the other children know that they are just as much loved as before, and that they are still important members of the household.

The display of affection by parents towards other members of the family or towards outsiders is also a frequent source of jealousy. Moreover, the unwise attitude of visitors or relatives, who constantly praise or hold up one brother or sister as a model or persistently point out shortcoming or defects in another, may cause feelings of bitterness, resentment, inferiority, or inadequacy in the child who is inclined towards jealousy.

Nor must one overlook downright favouritism. This is a weakness that is perhaps far more common among parents and among those who wield authority than is commonly suspected. A careful observer notes it at times in most unexpected places. While the balanced adult is inclined to look with disdain or contempt upon one who plays favourites, the little child is usually hurt by the latter’s tactics.

In order to prevent the development of jealousy in the child, every effort should be made to keep down the growth of selfishness, a trait more or less common to all children. The above-mentioned causes of jealousy should be carefully eliminated. The child should be taught early to share his toys, his sweets, and the like, with other children. He should be taught habits of unselfishness and the joy of making others happy. If he learns to be unselfish within the family circle, he will find little difficulty in being so when he comes into contact with the great outside world.

The seeds of jealousy sown in early childhood days will persist. It is the jealous child who becomes the jealous man or woman, as it is the testy child who becomes the testy adult. As a child, the jealous individual encounters many difficulties in getting on with his playmates. He feels wronged and neglected. Gradually he develops a sense of failure that handicaps him constantly; he either withdraws from his play-mates and the activities of life, or becomes domineering and pugnacious in order to gain attention for himself. Eventually this emotion leaves him incapable of sharing wholeheartedly the joys and successes of others. In fact, his jealousy may even end in uncontrolled resentment, and that with disastrous results.

It is of the utmost importance, therefore, that this morbid manifestation of the love instinct be guarded against in childhood, lest it produce an unsocial adult utterly out of harmony with his environment and lacking in all adjustment to his fellow-beings.

A well-regulated natural love on the part of parents for their child is of no less importance than the proper development of the emotion of love in the young child himself. It is, in fact, the first essential in rearing children, and is as helpful as an ill-regulated affection is harmful.

The home is the natural abode of love. Without affection home is an empty word; with affection it becomes the most advantageous place for the proper development of the child’s personality. Beyond any question it is the role of the affections that gives the home and family life its influence. Only love can furnish the motive for the constant, untiring and unwavering care which parents must show their children, and only love can bring into play the spiritual forces so essential for the shaping of the child’s character.

In the case of a very young child it is undoubtedly the mother’s rather than the father’s affection that plays the most important part. Because of the close contact between mother and child, mother love has constant opportunity for full play and development. Thus there develops a union that binds them together and fills the child’s mind with trust, confidence and respect. This enables the mother to cultivate the feelings and emotions, the chief forces in the determination of character.

Yet the affection of the father also has its place. Neither father nor mother, however. who have the best interests of the children at heart will spoil them with over-solicitous care. They will give them reasonable care and attention, but will not allow them to impose on their sympathy. Unless due care is exercised, a child becomes a slave to sympathy, and never learns to face the realities of life. Note the following cases:

Victor’s mother was unhappily married. For companionship she turned to her boy and made him the centre of her affection. She liked to keep him constantly around her and would retail his good qualities to visitors in his presence. Victor became shy and repressed. He was looked upon as a bit queer by his classmates. He seldom participated in active sport with boys of his own age. He spent most of his time at home or in the immediate neighbourhood, and he preferred reading and other activities which kept him near his mother.

Rose’s mother became a widow at the age of thirty. Her husband had been very intelligent, and their married life was of the happiest, so that the woman felt the blow keenly. She was lonesome and discontented, and lavished all her love on her only daughter, Rose. When the girl got older the mother always opposed any social contact with boys. The result was that the girl became shy, never went to parties, and remained very much to herself. Unless the mother dies or suddenly changes her attitude, it appears that Rose will grow up a repressed and dissatisfied spinster.

The two above examples, cited by the Rev. Dr. Paul H. Furfey, show how parents may, to the detriment of their children, seek in their offspring an emotional satisfaction that is lacking in their own lives. Parental love may be the most precious single natural blessing a child can enjoy, but it must be a love that seeks the child’s good, not the parents.’ It must be an affection that is willing to sacrifice itself for the sake of the child. Otherwise, it will become a damaging force to the latter. Parents. therefore, who draw a morbid emotional satisfaction from their children’s sympathy are not loving wisely. A child’s personality may become so welded into the life of the mother through the exercise of its natural affection that he finds it difficult to develop his own individual characteristics. Such faulty affection on the part of some parents may become as harmful to children as is the utter lack of affection on the part of others. Sooner or later they will have to strike out for themselves, and if they have not as children learned the habit of self-dependence they will show themselves discontented and but poorly-balanced individuals.

Another real hazard in this connection is the danger of spoiling thechild by “babying” him too much, by giving in to his whims, for instance, in order to win and hold his affection or to keep him quiet. Fortitude is an element of the greatest importance in the child’s training. Particularly in this day of an easy life and soft creed is coddling unfortunate. The child must be taught the habit of facing the difficulties and realities of life unflinchingly. As soon as the individual begins to deceive himself and to refuse to face unpleasant truths, he is laying the foundation for many unhealthy traits of character-for oddities, peculiarities, and such like, and, in some cases. even for serious mental disorders. Parents should realise that children who grow up without facing the facts of life will be improperly prepared for life’s inevitable tasks and hardships. Such children will grow up so lacking in ability to face life that they will suffer much more than the average child. The youngster, therefore, who is waited upon indulgently at every real or imaginary ache, or is lavished with emotional sympathy, whenever a trifling difficulty arises, is not being prepared to face life’s realities. Nor is it the individual who is immune from all perplexing problems who is well adjusted to life, but the one who has developed habits and character traits that will enable him to face the difficulties of life openly, frankly, and courageously, without compromise or self-deception. Even in the early days of childhood may the individual well be taught the value of the cardinal virtue of Christian fortitude. It will do him far more good than will spoiling or “babying” him.

Herein particularly lies a real danger in the case of sick children. Note the case of Irene. The later was living up to her name. Her face was flushed with anger. She scrambled, scratched and screamed, by turn or in unison. Eventually her mother gave her what she was clamouring for, and Irene was again serene. Such “scenes” have become quite frequent. They date back to Irene’s serious sickness of a year and a half ago.

Illnessand injury play strange tricks with one’s personality. A long-continued sickness at times makes a grown-up person bitter and resentful, a disagreeable and fault-finding individual. It is true, too, that illness often brings out good traits, such as patience, sympathy and kind consideration of others. In the child there is even greater danger that undesirable traits show themselves during illness and fix themselves into firm and unbending habits. A sick child must be handled with care by the parent. Such a child, it is true, is entitled to special consideration, but afterwards he must learn to give up his privileges and once more take his former place in the household. He must learn again to shoulder his former responsibilities and to give and take and battle in everyday life with the other members of the family.

There is no need to give a sick child the privilege of dominating the rest of the household, and it is safe to say there is invariably more danger of spoiling a good disposition through letting the child go undisciplined than of aggravating his illness by making him live up to the rules and regulations of the home. . Even though greater leniency was shown him during sickness, after convalescence he must again accustom himself to playing his normal role in the family and in other groups.

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Parents And The Vocation of Their Children

ERNEST F. MILLER, C.SS.R

INDEX

Mothers and fathers, listen! You ought not to stand in the way of your children’s vocation -your son’s desire to become a priest, your daughter’s aspiration to enter the convent. You ought not to put your foot down and cry out a mighty NO to any suggestion on the part of your offspring that they “give up all things and follow Christ.”

You may be going directly against the will of God. You may very well be tampering with the divine workings of a vocation. Who knows? Perhaps God is calling your son or your daughter to be one of His very special disciples even as He called the rich young man those many years ago.

You remember the story of the rich young man.

He was a boy like your boy, a boy like all the young people of the world and of all the ages. Young people are very often a source of mystery to older people.

At one time they seem to be completely unworried about the serious things of life-about other people’s property (they destroy it with hardly a worry or a qualm of conscience), about the love and respect they owe to authority and particularly to their parents (they treat their parents like strangers or like servants) and about striving for the attainment of anything except that which meets their fancy and satisfies their feelings at the moment.

At other times they scale the heights of the highest idealism. They’ll give the shirt off their back to some poor cold tramp on a street corner. They’ll give up their lives in defense of a worthy cause. There is no limit to the sacrifices they are willing to make.

That’s the way it was with the rich young man of the Gospel story. This is the story as it was told by St. Matthew in the twentieth chapter of his Gospel.

“And behold one came and said to Him, ‘Good Master, what good shall I do that I may have life everlasting?’ Jesus answered, ‘Why askest thou Me concerning good? One is good, God. But if thou wilt enter into life, keep the commandments.’ The young man said to Him, ‘Which?’ And Jesus said, ‘Thou shalt do no murder. Thou shalt not commit adultery. Thou shalt not steal. Thou shalt not bear false witness. Honour thy father and thy mother. And, thou shalt love they neighbor as thyself.’

“The young man said to Him, ‘All these have I kept from my youth. What is yet wanting to me?’ Jesus answered, ‘If you wilt be perfect, go sell what thou hast and give to the poor and thou shalt have treasure in heaven. And come, follow Me.’

“When the young man had heard this word, he went away sad, for he had great possessions. Then Jesus said to His disciples, ‘Amen, I say to you that a rich man shall hardly enter into the kingdom of heaven. And again I say to you, it is easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter into the kingdom of heaven.”‘

The young man simply could not do what Our Lord asked. He was too wealthy, too comfortable, too highly connected with the great and the famous of the world. It was expecting too much of him to think that he could become a beggar like the tramps and the outcasts that one met in the slums of the cities. No, he could not do it. He turned his back on Our Lord and walked away. There were too many obstacles in the way of his vocation.

You mothers and fathers can be obstacles in the way of your child’s vocation too. Wealth and high position in the social world caused the rich young man to lose his vocation and possibly his soul. Your excessive and unreasonable love, can cause your child to lose his or her vocation. Is that what you want to happen?

There is no telling what will happen to the boy who is thwarted in his ambition to become a priest. Sometimes it happens that he never finds a settled place in life. He always seems to be a kind of wanderer, a man without a home or a hope of acquiring a home. It is not a rare case when a boy like that loses the Faith entirely in the course of the years that follow on his parent’s prohibition to become a priest.

Neither is there any telling as to what will happen to a girl whom parents have kept out of the convent by threats and pleadings and tears. It has come about more than once in the past that a girl so treated later on fell in love with a man who was already validly married. All the weeping and carrying on of the mother and father then to keep her from an adulterous union with a man who could not be her husband were of no avail. The girl seemed possessed. Her mother stopped her once from doing what she wanted to do. Her mother would not stop her twice. And so the girl abandoned her holy religion and went off to live with the man as though he were actually her husband.

To think that this girl once wanted to be a nun! To think that her mother actually prevented her from fulfilling her desire! Can the mother be glad now that she stopped her? Would the mother rather have her daughter in a bad marriage and in danger of going to hell than in a convent? What fierce regrets must torture the minds of mothers like this one. What would they not give to bring back the past so as to reverse the decision they so foolishly made against their child’s wishes.

The arguments that many mothers and fathers use to keep their children from following the vocation that God seems to have given them are varied and devious. None of them are too strong. None of them are based on truly spiritual considerations.

The first argument is that the child is too young. The girl may be a graduate of high school, eighteen or nineteen years old and well able to take good care of herself. But she is too young for the convent. She has not seen enough of the world. Let her go out with boys, attend parties, dance and be merry for a couple of years so that she will have a clear idea as to what she is giving up before she leaps over the wall into the convent.

It is probable that if a girl does not know her mind when she is eighteen years old, she will never know it. It would be wiser for a fickle, indecisive girl to forget about the convent. However, in most cases a girl of that age does know what she wants to do with her life. And a mother who maintains that her daughter is too young to know her mind is only throwing up a smoke screen. Simply said, the mother does not want her daughter to become a nun. And so she uses the “too young” strategy in order to accomplish her end.

And the father who says that his daughter is too beautiful and too cheerful and happy to be buried in the tomblike recesses of the convent where nobody ever laughs, where the nuns kill themselves with penance and where pictures of hell are forever dangled before the eyes of the inmates to keep them in line is a man who does not know what he is talking about.

A convent is not a place of long faces, floods of tears and deep melancholia and unhappiness. The nun who is not content with the life can always leave and resume her life in the world. She can get married and have a family. Nobody forces her to remain in the convent. There are no bars on the windows, no cells in the basement, no keepers with whips in hand to keep the prisoners from escaping.

But if she elects of her own free will to remain in the convent, the chances are a hundred to one that she is very happy and that she would not give up her vocation if the president of the United States came and tendered her a special invitation to return home with a million dollars in her pocket as spending money.

Thus her father is completely wrong in forbidding her to enter the religious life because of the dreariness and the extreme hardness of the life. He just doesn’t know. Or he is using the false picture of convent life as a dodge for keeping his daughter at home.

There are times when parents will refuse to allow their son to begin studies for the priesthood on the score that he is needed at home (or will be needed when school days are over) to help support the family

How many families are in such dire need that only through the sacrifice of a vocation to the priesthood can bread be brought to hungry mouths and clothing to naked backs? In all probability the boy will not stay long at home anyway after he finishes school. He will meet a girl, get married and perhaps move a thousand miles away. And that will be the end of any support that he might give his mother and father and brothers and sisters by staying at home and working.

The excuse also is given at times that the boy is the only male child of the family and that he should therefore remain in the world in order to perpetuate the family name.

As far as the perpetuation of the family name is concerned, what difference will it make to the mother and the father in eternity whether or not the name of the family was carried on here on earth? The worry about the carrying on of the family name is purely an earthly worry. There is no scheming or quarreling over so fragile a matter beneath the ground in the cemeteries. And there is no discussion of it amongst either the souls in heaven or the damned in hell. There is no room for the foolish things of time in eternity. Anxiety over the perpetuation of the family name is one of the foolish things of time.

Those who put too much emphasis on an affair like this, that is, those who put so much emphasis on such an affair as to decide against a vocation because of it may not find any pleasure in the family name either on earth or in eternity. The irony of God’s providence may step in. A boy who is forbidden to go to the seminary so that he can continue his family name may produce no progeny. He may end up a tramp and bring heavy disgrace upon the family name rather than honour and perpetuation.

And if the mother and father lose their souls because they caused their son to lose his vocation, will it be any consolation to them in hell whether the family stopped with themselves or whether it continued to exist on earth?

Then there is the excuse for keeping a boy at home and away from the priesthood that he will be able to do so much more good for the world if he remains in the world. To fly from the world when there are so many problems to be solved in the world is cowardice; it is a form of escapism. Surely it is not worthy of a real man. Boys become priests very often who are incapable of facing problems and solving them. The men who do the most good are generally found in the world.

For anyone to maintain that generally a man can accomplish more good by remaining in the world than he can by becoming a priest is to talk through the hat. It is a glib and easy thing to say. But it has no substance to it. Most often it is said by people who have an ulterior motive for saying it. The parents of the boy with the possible vocation to the priesthood is a case in hand.

The truth of the matter is that they are not intensely interested in their son’s accomplishing a lot of good for the world by remaining in the world. They themselves could do much more good for the world if they wanted to. But their interests do not lie too sharply in that direction. Why, then, are they so interested, and that so suddenly, in their son’s remaining in the world so that he can do good for the world?

Once more it would seem like an ulterior motive in operation. They want their son to stay at home with them. They feel that he will not listen to them if they give a direct command. So they show their wish by beating around the bush, persuading the boy to stay at home through the use of the specious argument that he doesn’t have to go away to accomplish good. There is good to be done all around him. He can start doing good right at home. He can start working on his parents. This latter statement is made facetiously.

Need anything be said to prove that a priest can do much more good in the spiritual order than can a lay person? Why, the priest carries around with him the keys that can unlock the doors of heaven and lock the doors of hell insofar as he has the power of forgiving sins, even terrible, blood-red, uncounted mortal sins. He can stand at the altar and give a command to God and the heavens will open and His Almighty Majesty will come down past the stars and through the clouds and rest on the white cloth before him who gave the command even though he, the priest, be the weakest and perhaps the wickedest of men.

Dictators have tremendous power. Hitler ruled a dozen nations besides his own. Stalin had millions of people under the heel of his boot. Both of them could kill and imprison and torture human beings without fear of opposition or reprisal. Both of them commanded uncounted soldiers. Both of them made and unmade kings and rulers of countries according to the whim and fancy of the moment.

Yet, both of them together, and with them all the dictators who ever lived did not possess the power possessed by the sickliest of priests. They commanded only that which is upon the earth and that which is circumscribed by time. And the day was bound to come when they would fall, if not by the machinations of enemies, certainly by the decree of death.

The priest commands the heavens. In a sense he commands God. And he will command God as long as he lives, for God made that promise. He said that He would be with the Church which He founded until the end of the world, by which words He meant that He would see to it that the Church in her essential functions, namely, the administration of the sacraments, the celebration of holy Mass and the upholding of the moral law would not come to an end until the end of time.

As long as there will be a Church, there will be priests. And as long as there are priests, God will listen to their command that He come down on earth and take His place under the appearance of bread and wine in the holy Eucharist of the altar.

Can a man do more good than that for the world-bringing God down into the world in His Body and His Blood, His Soul and His Divinity?

But bringing God down into the world is not the priest’s only opportunity for doing good. He baptizes the new Christian, he anoints the dying and sends him off to heaven, he consoles the sick, he instructs the ignorant, he offers up the Mass for the living and the dead. He is the intermediary between God and man.

Would any Catholic mother and father in their right senses say that their son could do more good for people if he remained in the world than he could do if he became a priest? Were they to think and to speak like that, they would prove that they had little understanding of the priesthood as the priesthood was instituted by Our Lord when He was here on earth.

Parents should feel honoured if a child of theirs is called to follow directly in the footsteps of Jesus Christ. How many mothers and fathers are there not in the world who would give anything for so great a blessing. How many good and fervent mothers and fathers are passed over by Our Lord when it comes to the handing out of vocations to the priesthood and the religious life. Perhaps the parents whose son has received the call to the altar or whose daughter has been invited to be the bride of Christ have never shown much real piety at all. Perhaps they are quite run-of-the-mill Catholics.

Yet, God in His inscrutable ways has singled them out as the ones with whom He wants to deal in the signing up of some of their children who will act as His special agents in the work that He Himself came on earth to accomplish the salvation of souls.

Should parents be angry at this and put up all kinds of objections as though Our Lord were imposing on them in asking their children to work and to watch and to pray with Him for a little while? Would they put up objections if the president of the country asked them for a couple of their children whom he wanted to elevate to high places in the government and to send on highly important missions in the interest of the welfare of the country?

Of course they would not be angry at the president of the country. Is any president the equivalent of Jesus Christ? Is it a great honour to serve as an officer in the armed forces and a disgrace to serve as an officer in the army of Jesus Christ?

There seldom seems to be any objection when a son or a daughter gets married, especially if the one marrying the son or daughter is a “catch.” Take the case of the daughter. The man she marries may be about as spiritual-minded as a block of stone. The deepest desires of his soul may never rise above the carnal. He may carry the girl to another part of the world. He may not be a Catholic. Is there any objection on the part of the parents if he is wealthy and socially acceptable? Not very often. And not very loud.

The man may even be one of those multi-married individuals. The girl in accepting him is accepting damaged goods. Any objections from the parents? Perhaps. But not the kind of objection that is put up when the girl decides to enter the convent. Just let her suggest the convent and one would think that she had suggested the cutting off of her right foot and the pulling of her tongue from her mouth.

Poor parents who stand in the way of their child’s vocation! Do they know what they are doing?

How many confessions was their son destined to hear before he was side-tracked from the priesthood by the spurious objections of his parents? How many souls were counting on his ministrations to find their way into heaven? How many dying people were cheated of the last anointing because he was not there to administer the sacrament? How many sinners had to remain in their sins because they never met or knew the man who through the priesthood was supposed to convert them and bring them back to Christ?

In preventing a boy from becoming a priest, if God has given that boy a vocation to become a priest, parents are preventing souls from going to heaven. Parents are holding open the doors of the prison of hell so that poor, lost, wandering souls might find an easy entry into it.

In preventing a girl from entering the convent, if it seems that God is calling her to the convent, parents are again making it difficult for people to get to heaven. When a girl becomes a sister, she makes a tremendous sacrifice. She gives up her home, her family, any hope of having a home and a family of her own in the future. She makes a complete and total sacrifice of herself to God.

What great good must come out of such a sacrifice. And what an evil it is to prevent the good from being done by making it impossible for the girl to offer up the sacrifice of her life through the three vows of poverty, chastity and obedience.

Parents should remember that the offering of a son or a daughter is not all pain and sacrifice. Of course the parting is difficult when the boy or girl bids farewell to family and departs for seminary or convent. It seems almost as though the child has been claimed by death.

But the hurt that the heart sustained eventually heals. Time takes care of that. And then the blessings that a religious vocation brings down upon the home and particularly upon the parents in that home make themselves felt.

First of all, there is the feeling of assurance that mother and father have that their daughter could hardly be in better hands than in the hands of Our Lord. She has become the spouse of Christ. She has been especially selected by Christ to be His bride. Surely He will take care of her both in time and in eternity.

Good parents sometimes worry about their children. They know that they are responsible for their welfare in eternity. They have often heard that on the day of the last Judgment children who are lost because of the negligence of their parents will point a finger at their mother and father and demand that Christ condemn them for the awful sin they committed in not seeing to it that their children saved their souls.

Some parents have reason to worry, not because of anything that they have done that was wrong in the training of their children but because the children refused to follow their training and involved themselves in invalid marriages and sinful practices that drove them out of the Faith into which they had been born and baptized. Mothers and fathers worry in cases like these lest their children lose their souls.

They do not have to worry about their daughter in the convent. Her habit of prayer, the good example all around her, the spiritual exercises of her daily life will carry her to heaven when her time comes to die. Mother and father can be sure that at least one of their children is safe and that they need have no fear of giving an account to God on how her life was lived and how she was brought up from her youth.

The second blessing that follows upon the sacrifice of a son or a daughter to God is the promise of Our Lord that He will provide for the temporal and the eternal welfare of those who willingly make the sacrifice. In the nineteenth chapter of St. Matthew’s Gospel the following words are to be found: “Every one that hath left house or brethren or sisters or father or mother or wife or children or lands for My name’s sake shall receive a hundredfold and shall possess life everlasting.”

It is not stretching the meaning of the text too far to maintain that it refers to all the members of the family who consent to a son or a daughter, a brother or a sister leaving home in order to enter the direct service of God at altar or in th e convent.

Thus, a brother who gives up his sister can apply Our Lord’s words to himself. And so can a mother in regard to her daughter. And so can a father in regard to his son. The consoling part of Our Lord’s words consists in this that a girl who has renegade Catholics in her family-a father who has fallen away from the practice of his holy religion, a sister who has sinned deeply through an invalid marriage, a brother who has become a confirmed alcoholic- that girl by giving up her life to God in religion can save the souls of all these unfortunate relatives of hers no matter how far they have fallen. Our Lord says that he who gives up a sister or a daughter as well as a mother and a father will possess life everlasting. Isn’t that what all the members of the family do, even the bad members of a family, when they see one of the girls of the family leave home in order to enter the convent? They give her up. And God promises a great reward.

In view of this tremendous promise of Our Lord, one would imagine that parents would get down on their knees and beg God to give one of their children a religious vocation. To have such a vocation in the family is like taking out insurance on the salvation of all the members of the family.

And now for a final word.

There are some parents who seemingly are blessed by God with a religious vocation being bestowed on one of the members of their family. A boy goes to the seminary. He studies for several years. Then, almost without warning he leaves the seminary and returns to the world. Perhaps it is found out that his talents are not of such a nature as to serve the priesthood. Perhaps his coming home is not his own decision. Rather it is the decision of his superiors. They have told him to return home because of the difficulty he has in mastering the studies that are essential to the vocation of the priest.

Sometimes parents are so deeply disappointed when this happens to their son (and to them) that they weaken momentarily in their faith. They become somewhat bitter and say sharp words that afterwards they regret. They cannot figure out why such a thing should happen to them. They feel like hanging their heads and going into hiding until the disgrace is forgotten.

There is no disgrace in a boy’s leaving the seminary when it is discovered that he has no vocation. Neither is there disgrace attached to a girl’s coming home from the novitiate when she learns that God prefers that she work out her salvation in the world.

Saints are possible in the world as well as in the convent and at the altar. Let the parents help their son or daughter strive for this sanctity in the world, and through the understanding they show and the help they make more certain the attainment of sanctity themselves.

You mothers and fathers-did you listen to all that was said through the voice of this booklet about your children’s vocation to the convent and the priesthood? If you did, you will do all in your power to cooperate with God no matter in what direction He leads your sons and daughters. You will work with God in the moulding of these sons and daughters. In that way you will most assuredly lead them to heaven, and yourselves with them.

EIGHT SIGNS OF A VOCATION

Of perennial interest and importance is the question: How can I know whether I have a vocation to the priesthood or religious life? The question is based upon the erroneous assumption that such a vocation should be so absolute and clear that there would be scarcely any choice left to the free will once it were given. That is not the case. There are certain absolute conditions for such a vocation-conditions without which one can be sure God is not inviting him to the religious life or priesthood; and others that are inherent in free will and dependent upon free will, but inspired by the grace of God as an invitation to follow him. These are the signs:

I. Absolutely necessary conditions:

1. Good health. The priesthood and religious life make great demands on a person’s physical constitution: good health is necessary.

2. Ordinary talents. (Except for a vocation as a lay brother or a lay Sister). Priests and religious must teach others; therefore must be able to advance in learn themselves.

3. Reasonable independence. If others are entirely dependent on one in a material or economic sense, it is clearly one’s vocation to take care of them.

4. Normal piety. If one is not at least ordinarily devoted to religious practices, it could hardly be expected that he would be fitted for the more than ordinary religious exercises of a priest or religion.

II. Signs of vocation inspired by God in free will:

1. A spirit of sacrifice. An ability to give up lesser but more appealing goods for greater, but more invisible.

2. A spirit of zeal. That special form of charity that makes a youth think of doing something to save souls-many souls.

3. A spirit of detachment. The power that enables a person to be in the world and not of the world. It requires control of the emotions-which means that even when a person is drawn by powerful emotions to love others and cling to others- he can still govern these emotions and if necessary suppress them. Some sign of this power is necessary for a vocation to the celibate state.

4. A desire to be a priest or a religious.

It may be of long standing or but recently experienced; intermittent or constant. God gives such desires as invitations, not as instruments of force.

The presence of these eight marks in the character of a youth is a sign that he (or she) is being invited by God to be one of His own. The signs will never amount to a certain mandate: the decision will always be left to the free will. Therefore a youth should ask himself this question: “How can I know that I am invited by God to be a priest or a religious?” And should answer: “If I have the proper signs of a vocation.”

Imprimi Potest:

John N. McCormick. C.SS.R. Provincial, St. Louis Province,

Redemptorist Fathers, January 4, 1960

Imprimatur:

St. Louis, January 7, 1960

@ Joseph E. Ritter Archbishop of St. Louis

********

Parents And Vocations

BY BEN PALMER

INDEX

EVERY FATHER AND EVERY MOTHER desires the happiness of their children. For many of them, it is one of the chief purposes of their life: it’s what they live for. They work for their children, plan for their children and, especially if they are Catholics, pray for their children.

They know that the happiness of their children will depend largely upon choice of a right vocation. They know that the choice of vocation should not be left to chance. It is too important. The proper choice depends upon the aptitudes; talents; physical, mental and moral attainments; and possibilities of the boy and girl, particularly the interests, inclinations, or desires.

Plato in his Republic said; “I am myself reminded that we are not all alike; there are diversities of natures among us which are adapted to different occupations. They must infer that all things are produced more plentifully and easily and of a better quality when one man does one thing which is natural to him, and leaves other things-a shoemaker was not allowed by us to be a husbandman, or a weaver, or a builder, in order that we might have our shoes well made; but to him and to every other worker was assigned one work for which he was by nature fitted.”

Just shortly after Columbus discovered America, one Juan Huarte spoke to King Philip II of Spain: “It seems to me that it is requisite to set apart a number of sagacious and learned men to examine and investigate into the mental qualifications and capabilities of young persons, in order to oblige them to make a choice of such science and professions as would be most in accordance with their intellectual constitutions, and not to leave the matter to their own choice and direction. For in general cases, this choice will necessarily be an injudicious one, and will induce them to give a preference to some line of life which will prove less advantageous and useful to them, than if they were under the direction of suitable and qualified counsellors.

CHOICE AND CHANCE

He, of course, was suggesting that a state or government assign young people to their vocations. Now we would not tolerate this. Nevertheless, it might be an improvement upon chance choice of vocations which often occurs. What chance led Priestley’s father to live next door to a brewery, this eventually leading to Priestley’s discovery of oxygen, or Daniel Webster’s father to live next door to a man of law whom the young boy admired? In Arrowsmith, what chance caused the eye of Doc Vickers to fall upon the forrent sign of a certain vacant office which led to young Arrowsmith’s, whose father owned the office, sweeping out the doctor’s office and thus becoming interested in medicine?

Certainly the progress of society and happiness of the individual depend to a large extent upon the elimination of chance. Certainly we must use intelligence. So, likewise, we should take advantage of advice to the young with respect to vocations that may be secured from well-qualified members of the comparatively new profession, vocational counselling.

The difficulty is that the range of knowledge of the advice given by the vocational counsellor, particularly in a public school, may be limited to purely secular occupations. Concentration may be upon choice of that life work which will bring in the most money. This emphasis on secular attainment is, of course, to be expected in a society dominated by concentration on materialism and the things of this world.

SECULAR ATTAINMENTS

There is a tendency for the professional vocational guidance counsellor, outside of Catholic circles, specifically religious circles, to concentrate on secular attainments. Not only is the climate of opinion unfavourable to the choice of a religious life, but there are constant, skillful, and almost irresistible pressures brought to bear upon the young today to lead them into the choice of secular vocations.

Industry and all the forces of national defence and of the educational world outside of the Church have mobilized all the forces of mass-communication, press, radio, pamphlets, magazines, books, television, and even motion-pictures to impress on youth the patriotic need of training in engineering and the sciences, particularly as a means of defence against Russia. Many a young man may easily be tempted to feel that he can serve God as well by becoming an engineer or a scientist as by becoming a priest or brother. The temptation is to conclude that he can make the best of both worlds; live comfortably with financial success in this world, attain eternal salvation and lay to his soul the flattering unction that he has been making sacrifices for his country.

ARMED SERVICES

We are all familiar with the enlistment campaigns by the Armed Services. These, of course are not to be deplored, but we must recognize these campaigns for the youth of America as well as those by industry and business, as competitors for the young men and women who ought to accept the religious life.

Motion pictures about West Point and Annapolis, motion pictures and TV shows making the Armed Services attractive, appeal to the desire of youth for technical training, for adventure and excitement and for heroism. In the terms of the Armed Services, a young man will be well-paid, well-fed well-clothed, well-housed, and will have a chance to see the world, will have opportunities of advancement in pay and in rank and final retirement with prestige and Social Security. With these forces, we must compete in order to encourage religious vocations.

THE NEED OF RELIGIOUS VOCATIONS

You don’t need to be told of the needs of the Church for priests and religious.

In the United States, the number of Catholics per priest dropped from 1,000 per priest in 1790 to 690 in 1956. In 1956, however, the Catholic population in America increased 20.9%, but the priests only 12.5%. This may be due to the postwar baby boom which greatly increased the Catholic population, and a decline in vocations during the depression and war years. But with the return of peace the number of young men entering our seminaries notably increased and there are indications that vocations to the priesthood are increasing beyond normal expectations.

The situation in the United States with respect to the sisterhood is quite otherwise. Though statistics on sisterhoods are not nearly as complete as on the priesthood, indications are that while during the past dozen years seminarians increased 63.6 %, the increase of brothers (43.8% ) slightly exceeded the 43.4 % increase of the Catholic population, but the increase in the sisterhoods was only 19.1 %.

Thousands of religious have been exterminated in two world wars, in Red China; behind the Iron Curtain, and in Russia. Priests are badly needed to stay the inroads of Communism among the working classes of Paris and Milan and Rome. Millions in Africa and Asia await the call of Christ. The Indians of South America and the too often merely baptized or nominal Catholics from the Gulf of Mexico and the Caribbean to southern Argentina and Tierra del Fuego need our religious to make that continent truly Catholic and to save it from the growing menace of the godless who say there is no God. So it is not strange that a few years ago when Cardinal Spellman appealed to the religious and laity of his diocese for the encouragement and support of vocations he said that this pastoral letter was the most important he had ever written.

SECULAR EDUCATORS

Secular educators are flooding the land with graphs and charts and statistics warning us of the wave of children and young people needing to be educated. The wave is already upon us. It is not a predicted wave. It is not a prediction of a tremendous increase of persons to be educated based upon calculations as to future births. It is a prediction based upon the number of children who are already here.

If secular educators with all the resources of taxation are apparently appalled at the prospect and at their wits end, what can Catholics do? What is our plight and our prediction?

We see already all about us public schools, elementary and secondary, built and being built at the cost of millions of dollars; perhaps three and one half million for a single school. We can and will raise the monies gladly to build the Catholic schools needed for our children. But where are we to get the teaching sisters?

To pay for an increasingly large percentage of lay teachers at anything comparable to the minimum in public schools would place us in bankruptcy even if we could get such teachers as would be competent and qualified. But we cannot get them at any cost.

At any cost we may get bricks and mortar and equipment, but we cannot get the services of teaching sisters or brothers who do not exist. We cannot avoid the heartbreak of parents who have saved and planned for the Catholic education of their children, perhaps built or moved into a certain neighbourhood for that purpose, when told there is no room left in the Catholic school. This is also a heartbreak for the teaching sisters or brothers who have to turn children away. They, like the parish priests who can find no teachers for their schools, built or ready and able to build, see the disappointment of parents and children. And they see the perils of secular education. . These perils are not simply the lack of Catholic education; they are the perils to prospective vocations to the religious life. For just as the Catholic family is the nursery of vocations, so too it is true that most religious come from Catholic schools. Certainly we cannot expect the necessary supply of religious vocations, already inadequate even with present enrolments, to be available when needed by the oncoming flood of Catholic children if more and more of our boys and girls are compelled by shortages of teachers to go to public schools.

So it is that the needs of our children and our grandchildren for teaching sisters and brothers, the needs of the Church in America for secular and order priests, the harvest available for missionaries at home and abroad, call to us to do everything that each of us can, by prayer, by word, and by deed to speed the increase of vocations to the religious life.

WHAT IS A VOCATION?

We need to answer the question, “What is a vocation?” because young people will not recognize something they do not know.

A vocation is an occupation or a life-long work to which one is called by the voice of God. For the word comes from the Latin “voco,” I call. So it was that in the ages of faith, a man’s occupation was called his calling and we still use that word as indicating a man’s occupation, although we have generally forgotten that God has anything to do with it.

For many centuries, the English man has been praying in his litany “that I may be happy in that state of life to which God has called me.” And so another Englishman, Falstaff, when criticized for purse-taking, said: “Why, Hal? ’Tis my vocation, Hal; ’tis no sin for a man to labour in his vocation.”

There is, of course, something mysterious about a man’s calling just as there is about all the operations of grace. The very fact that there is something mysterious about a calling to the religious life leads many young people to believe that the call must be sudden, dramatic, and spectacular. They may expect God to speak to them as He spoke to Moses from the burning bush or on Mount Sinai, or to Jeremias when He put forth His hand and touched the mouth of the prophet, or to St. Paul when He struck him down as by a bolt of lightning on his way to Damascus. So a young person cannot expect to hear the voices of St. Joan of Arc, or to be suddenly overwhelmed with an irresistible desire to become a priest as was that poor, illiterate peasant boy who at prayer was so overwhelmed: The Cure of Ars, St. John Mary Vianney. Christ will not call them personally in an apparition as he did in reality call Peter and Andrew and James and John by the Sea of Galilee. No angel will tap them on the shoulder and say, “Come along with me.” The call does not come in whirlwind or earthquake but as a still small voice.

This still, small voice is hard to hear in the din of the world’s confusion, amid the clamorous demands for a secular life. The call comes gradually over a period of time through the normal processes of the intellect and the will with the grace of God. It must be listened for and it must be so described that the young person will recognize it when he hears it.

The difficulty comes in that aspects of the religious life known or believed to be known by a young person may alternately attract and repel him. His moods may vary. The impressions made on him by persons leading the religious life with whom he comes in contact or about whom he reads may vary. Above all, he is subject to the constant, insistent, subtle pressure of his environment which he cannot escape except by an act of the creative imagination, which many times he is unable or unwilling to make.

. One of the most lovable of priests, especially beloved by thousands of young American Catholics, was the late Father Daniel A. Lord, S.J. He said: “I know I did not want to be a priest or a Jesuit. All my natural impulses lay elsewhere. I knew I did not ask God for a vocation; when the thought recurred, I resisted it with fiery repudiation and blanked it out of my memory with deliberate rejection.”

PIETY

Most young Catholics know that piety is a sign of a vocation or one of the requirements for a successful religious life. Sometimes, however, they have a mistaken notion as to what piety is. They may think that a young person is pious only if he goes about with a long face, spends an abnormal amount of time in Church and at his prayers, is abnormally disinterested in things that normally are of interest to healthy, young people, such as popular music, sports, movies and TV, dancing, and social activities. Experience has shown, however, that it is not the misfits that are successes or desired in the religious life. It is normal, healthy young persons, provided only that they have average health, average intelligence, some degree of true inward piety, good moral character, and generosity. They must be companionable people who can get along with others, must be able to fit into community life. Above all, they must be generous, because they must be willing to give themselves for others and for God unsparingly and without reservation and with the joy of giving.

They must be of good moral character, but, of course, they need not be perfect. A young person need not close the door to the possibilities of religious life because he knows he has sinned. Sainthood is not a qualification to entrance to the religious life; it is the aim, the aspiration, and the ideal of those who enter that life and who do not expect to approach perfection except after long years of self-sacrifice, self-discipline and devotion, and a life of prayer. A young person is sometimes deterred from considering the religious vocation because of the lack of a dramatic call, because of a feeling of his own unworthiness and the idea that he should be abnormally spiritual and perfect. Sometimes he is deterred by fear that if he enters a novitiate or seminary, he may later have to drop out and he or his parents regard this as in the nature of a disgrace.

Of course, this is an utterly false conception of the purposes of novitiates and seminaries. They are not, by any means, for those already clearly called to and fitted for the religious life. They are places for testing or a probationary period of study and observation and of self-appraisal and of appraisal by religious superiors with respect to their aptitudes and qualifications for the religious life. Certainly it is much better for a young person to have made a serious trial of his qualifications and aptitudes to be a priest rather than never to have tried it at all. Certainly understanding parents, friends, and relatives know that such a young person is to be commended and praised rather than criticized. His failure to enter the religious life after a period of study in a seminary or novitiate is no proof of any deficiency of character or of spiritual qualities. Failure to go on, are. turn to secular life, may be simply the result of an intelligent conclusion on the part of the young person and his spiritual advisers that for reasons having nothing to do with spiritual deficiencies, it would be wise neither for him nor for the Church for him to prepare himself for the religious life. And God cannot be expected to stamp perfection on a young person merely at the instant he decides to prepare himself for the religious life. For the preparation for perfection goes far beyond seminary or novitiate; it is a life-long process.

REVERENCE AND HUMILITY

Reverence and humility are among the signs of qualifications for a religious vocation. But the very virtue of humility may be a deterrent for it may result in such a sense of unworthiness as to prevent a decision to consider seriously entrance to the seminary or novitiate.

Years ago, a monsignor hearing confession in Australia thought he recognized the voice of the penitent who was a government employee and he said: “Is that you, Mr. Gilroy?” The penitent answered “Yes.” The priest said: “Did you ever think of being a priest?” “Yes” said the young man, “but I deliberately put it out of my mind.” “Why?” “Because of my complete unworthiness and unsuitability.” The man did later study for the priesthood. He became a priest and now is Cardinal Gilroy.

PARENTAL OBJECTIONS

Practically all authorities agree that one of the principal obstacles to entrance into a religious life is to be found in parental objections. A study of more than 4,000 religious showed that of them 59% of the priests had entered the seminary over the objections of one or more parents and 72% of the sisters had so entered novitiates. Certainly it may be inferred that every year thousands of young people are deterred from entering seminaries or novitiates because of the objections of pAarents. Surprising enough these objections often come from families who are regarded as generally including good Catholic mothers and fathers.

Certainly the family should be, and often is, the nursery of vocations. As Pope Pius XI said in his famous encyclical on the Catholic priesthood: “The first and most natural place where the flowers of the Sanctuary should almost spontaneously grow and bloom, remains always the purely and deeply Christian home.” But unfortunately, in all too many cases, the family which considers itself Catholic, often in. perceptibly succumbs to the pressure of its environment, which in America today is so strongly, predominantly secularistic. It is difficult for Catholics living and working in the world to keep the climate of opinion outside the home from pervading the home and subtly and effectively leading the parents, unconscious of the fact, to give undue weight to worldly possessions and worldly success. It is easy for a Catholic parent to desire above all things that his son be a great success in the business or professional world. It is easy for a Catholic parent to wish that the daughter be not only happily married, but married to a man of wealth or at least of the promise of wealth. These are the attractions of a socially advantageous marriage, the prospect of connections of social and financial value. Great is the pressure on the parents to see to it that their daughter is married as advantageously as the daughters of their friends, and that their sons are well started out on the way to worldly success in business or the professions.

WHAT ARE SOME OF THE MOST COMMON PARENTAL OBJECTIONS?

One mother or father may say: “I want my child to see more of life or of the world before making his decision.” What does the parent mean by “life” or “the world”? You might well say to him or her: “You certainly don’t mean the evil side of life. You don’t want your child to be purposely dragged through the underworld or exposed to temptations that may easily be avoided. If you don’t mean the seamy side of life, do you mean to take him up on a mountain-top and tempt him by showing him all the kingdoms of the earth? Are you going to let him taste the flesh-pots of the world with the thought that their saviour will not appeal to him? Are you going to spread before him the prospect of a life’s banquet of all the world’s delicacies, the allurements of all the senses, the concupiscences of mind and body? Are you going to place before him all the treasures of books and music and art and travel and the companionship of secular associations, sports, the prospects of power, and the gratification of ambition and of pride? Having done this, having let your son or daughter form habits of secular enjoyment, are you going to expect him or her to break those habits? Are you going to make it easier for them to forgo the indulgences of a selfish life for the sacrifices and disciplines of the religious life? Are you not rather purposely tempting him or her towards the secular world? Are you not assuming the terrible responsibility both for your child’s soul and for the souls of the many he or she might save and serve, the many spiritual children he or she might have for eternity, if he or she were to embrace the religious life?” Certainly, you must weigh carefully the perils of immersion in the secular life as a test for a religious vocation. Certainly, grave consideration should be given to making the test for a vocation, not in the world, but in the proper place: novitiate or seminary. Here is where the young person should be tested without the alternative peril to his soul.

Furthermore, you must remember that entering the seminary or novitiate is not a final or irrevocable decision. It is merely a determination to find out whether the young person has a vocation.

Furthermore, you should ask yourself the question: “Why give the world first choice, why give it preference?” He may already know something of secular life, but he may know little or nothing about the religious life. Thus, by letting him learn more of life by exposing him to the attractions and allurements of the secular world you may be loading the dice against the religious life and not holding the scales even.

“MY SON OR DAUGHTER IS TOO YOUNG TO CHOOSE A VOCATION.”

Choosing a vocation is one of the problems that face the adolescent. For the term adolescence itself means growing up: physically, mentally, morally, spiritually, and an adaptation to the young person’s social and economic environment. It means finding himself and his place in life-in the community and in the present day world in which he lives.

Studies have shown that adolescence generally determines the part and the extent to which religion will play in the young person’s life throughout his life. He generally fixes his attitude toward religion, his conclusions as to its importance.

Experience shows that it is between graduation from grade school and the middle years of high school, or the senior year generally, that young persons decide upon their vocation, or at least the vocation with respect to which they wish to test themselves. Some authorities have said that most vocations are pretty well settled in the sixth, seventh, and eighth grades. Father Poage says: “The ages from 12 to 14 are the most important years of vocational choice in boys. Well over half of to day’s priests and brothers decided at that age that they wanted their present life.” Of 6,134 clerics recently queried as to when they entered the seminary to become a priest, 47% entered at 13 to 16; 30% at 17 to 19 and 23% at 20 or later.

Most of us at times have wanted the world to stand still and stay the hand of time and preserve to eternity some rare moment, such as when you saw your son or daughter receiving First Communion or being confirmed or graduating from elementary or high school. You knew he or she was then close to God and in a state of grace. Maybe you saw your son at the high point in the athletic achievements of his youth, beautiful as a young athlete sculptured by the Greeks, full of joy and strength and happiness. You would have it ever so, without change or shadow of change. So, too, would you preserve your son or daughter in innocence and in grace.

Might you not at graduation Mass for your son or daughter exclaim:

Time, stand still!

Dig no furrows in that placid brow.

Cloud not those clear eyes

From the vision of Celestial Truth

By the world’s confusions.

Clench not those hands

In the world’s contentions,

But keep them ever clasped in prayer.

Let not those ears

In the din of the world’s clamours

Cease to hear celestial melodies.

Keep those feet

Ever in the paths of righteousness

And let them not

Stray away from the house of God.

Let that heart not become dull

With the world’s indifference

Or beat with intemperate passion,

But burn steadily with Divine Love,

Forever part of Thy Mystical Body.

Eternally united with Thee

In the peace that passes understanding.

You know you possess no power to save your son or daughter from the clutch of time, changes in personality and in character and in habits of life. But you can help to show him the way of life that may more easily lead to spiritual perfection than in a worldly employment. For he may enter a way of life in which he may be constantly close to God incarnate, in which his reading may be largely spiritual, in which he may have opportunity for reflection and contemplation and prayer, association with religious of high ideals, and training in self-discipline with the help of a rule of life perhaps tested for centuries, laid down by St. Augustine, St. Bernard, St. Benedict, or St. Francis. What is a better prospect of preserving this boy or girl in all his or her glorious innocence, idealism, generosity, and spirit of self-sacrifice than entrance to a novitiate or seminary?

Adolescence is the high noon of ideals-a time of dreams of heroism and of self-sacrifice. The young man sees himself as a knight in shining armour, and a young woman perhaps a Joan of Arc. It is the time when living or read-about models of self-sacrifice and of heroism most appeal to youth. The youth that is longing for sacrifice, carries the banner with a strange or familiar device calling to higher levels of achievement. Why should we not take advantage of this idealism, not simply for the advantage of the Church, but because taking a person into a vocation when he is at his noblest, highest, and best is most likely to keep him noble and to make him happy.

HAPPINESS FOR YOUR CHILD

When you speak of the happiness of your child, what do you mean by happiness? You don’t need the arguments of St. Thomas made seven hundred years ago to convince you that happiness does not consist in wealth, honour, fame or glory, power, in any good of the body, in any created good, or in pleasure. You know the distinction between a mere succession of pleasures and true happiness, on the basis of your own experience, observation, and reflection. You know with St. Thomas that “final and perfect happiness can consist in nothing else than the vision of the Divine Essence.”

So, too, you remember the words of the psalmist: “One thing I have asked of the Lord, this will I seek after, that I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life.” You remember also the words of St. Augustine: “Happy is he who knoweth Thee; and the happy life is this-to rejoice unto Thee, in Thee, and for Thee; this it is and there is no other.” And again St. Augustine says: “Our temporal life is lived profitably only when it is used to gain merit whereby eternal life is attained.” And “anyone setting out to be happy must attain for himself that which always endures and cannot be snatched away through any severe misfortune.”

You have made a heavy investment working towards the happiness of your child. How better can you protect that investment than by helping your child, if fitted therefore, to enter the religious life? Certainly God will not overlook one who has vowed himself or herself to His service. Certainly we should remember the words of St. Bernard with respect to the priestly life: “Man lives more purely, falls more rarely, rises more quickly, lives more prudently, is refreshed more frequently, reposes more securely, dies more confidently, is cleansed more quickly, is rewarded more copiously.”

WAIT

Parents may say: “Wait a little.” Why wait? Why is it too early to find out whether or not your son or daughter is fitted for the religious life? Why waste time? Why run the risk of a vocation lost? Why have the young person spend time on studies of no value to him in the religious life? If he is to run the race, why not start training him before he has formed habits that may prevent him from entering the race and from reaching his goal? It was said long ago: “Habit is a cable. We weave a strand of it each day until at last we cannot break it.” Why weave the strands of the cable binding a young person to all the allurements of the secular world? Why not weave a cable that will grapple him to the spiritual life as with hoops of steel?

We often say: “Thy Will be done,” but rebel against the Will of God. Too often it is our will and not God’s. Are we to encourage young persons in the same direction? Are we to emphasize to them with respect to the choice of their vocation, what is their will rather than God’s? Are we to emphasize things that they will give up if they enter the spiritual life? Should we not rather emphasize things they will gain if they enter the religious life? Have we forgotten that it is better to give than to receive? Is the young person to live as if he really believes that he was given the gift of life in order to know God and serve Him in this world in order to be happy with Him in the next? Is he to serve God only with his lips or with his life? These are the questions we should help young people to ask themselves and to seek in prayer the true answers.

Parents who say that their children are too young to consider the religious life seriously often do not object to young dating or even to young marriage. They do not object to a young marriage in many cases if they happen to like the person their child wants to marry. And yet there are two great differences between entering marriage on the one hand and the seminary or novitiate on the other.

In the first place, as to marriage, you may be mistaken as to the character and personality of the person your child is going to marry. Furthermore, that character or personality may change with the years; virtues may diminish or largely disappear. On the other hand, you know to a much larger extent what God is and you know that with God there is no change or shadow of change.

In the second place, marriage is irrevocable. A mistake may ruin your child’s happiness forever. The seminary and novitiate are testing places and your child may leave at any time if he or she, or his or her ecclesiastical superiors determine that he or she is not fitted for, or will not be happy in, the religious life. Furthermore, as to happiness, Archbishop Cushing said: “In the absence of a strong sense of purpose, life becomes meaningless and for millions of people almost unbearable in its aimlessness.” Certainly the purposefulness of the religious life gives it centrality, inspiration, and a rewarding sense of achievement. We know the achievements of the clergy and many of the religious and we know that there must be an abiding happiness and a sense of joy in the consciousness of duties performed and service well done. A woman in a group of tourists visiting a leper asylum and watching a sister dressing the leper’s sores of a victim in the advanced stages of the disease said: “I wouldn’t do that for a million dollars.” “Neither would I,” said the sister.

STIFLED PERSONALITIES

Some parents think that the religious life would stifle the personality or individuality of their child. This, of course, is due to lack of knowledge of the religious life and of the great varieties of opportunities for the young. Certainly no ecclesiastical superior will fail to make use of the talents and abilities of any person in the service of the Church.

As to the happiness of parents, many who have had sons and daughters enter the religious life are emphatic in saying that they are closer spiritually to their children than they would be had the children remained at home. And they find their happiness in the happiness that comes to their children from the religious life. For if the child be happy, the parent worthy of the name will be happy.

It is, of course, natural for parents to wish to have their children with them. It is not surprising, therefore, that parents sometimes make every effort to postpone entrance to a novitiate or a seminary. This, of course, is a mistake both from the point of view of the young person who should embark as early as possible upon the religious life and the training for it, and from the point of view of the parent. The longer departure from home is postponed, the harder it is to sever the connection between parent and child. And so the most conscientious Catholic parent may rationalize and, unconscious of a submerged selfishness, place obstacles in the way of entrance into training for the religious life and delay such entrance. Sometimes, of course, the delay continues so long that the child never enters the novitiate or seminary. This is a risk of delay.

As to the happiness of parents, many who have had sons and daughters enter the religious life are emphatic in saying that they are closer spiritually to their children than they would be had the children remained at home. And they find their happiness in the happiness that comes to their children from the religious life. For if the child be happy, the parent worthy of the name will be happy.

In helping a young person to determine whether he or she should prepare for the religious life, he or she should be given as much information as possible about the life of priests, brothers, and sisters. This information can be given by books, pamphlets, magazines, motion pictures, discussions with priests and religious and with parents, and visits to seminaries and novitiates.

The religious life should be presented with scrupulous accuracy. It should not be glamourized. The appeal should not be to secular or worldly or selfish motives. Thus, Bishop Fulton J. Sheen, at one of the vocational institutes at Notre Dame, pointed out that the appeal to the sisterhood should be by the Cross and not by the tennis racket. He referred to a brochure published by a sisterhood which showed young sisters playing tennis. He did not wish to criticize that particular sisterhood, but he did point out that the appeal should be not to the selfishness or the worldly desires of the young for amusements, normal pleasures, the comforts of life, security for old age, loving companionship, but the appeal should be to the idealism and the ever present love of youth for the heroic. The appeal should be, not to their desire for personal gratification, for a life of peace and of comfort, but for a life of sacrifice.

The disadvantages as well as the advantages of the religious life must be made clear to the young. They must know that the life is not always one of spectacular heroism or of dramatic spiritual achievement. They must know that the life may represent months and years of obscurity, dull tasks, companionship sometimes with persons with whom they do not readily agree. They cannot expect to have the best of both worlds: to have all modern conveniences, to have physical comfort, to have good and regular and plentiful meals, and to be free from worry or care or responsibility.

THE APPEAL MUST BE TO SUPERNATURAL MOTIVES

In encouraging aspirants to the religious life, of course, care must be taken to avoid the tragedy of stimulating such a desire in any person who is theologically ineligible for such a life, such as persons defective in body, new converts until the Bishop thinks that their faith is sufficiently tried, sons of non-Catholics as long as their parents remain in their error, men bound to common military service by the civil law before they are fully discharged, and others. This is a question, of course, for consultation with a pastor, with respect to the theology of vocations. Certainly we will all agree, however, that it would be a tragedy, for example, to encourage to the priesthood one who for physical or mental reasons was clearly ineligible.

Reverend William M. Robinson, P.S.C., writing on the theology of religious vocations, says: “Right intention supposes that the primary purpose of the candidate is supernatural-the glory of God, his own sanctification, the salvation of souls. This supernatural intention does not exclude intentions of the merely natural order, such as love of teaching, desire for peace from the turmoil of the world, satisfying the will of parents or relatives, or friendship of some religious persons. These secondary human intentions are not to be despised. . . . .

Any Catholic can be admitted to the religious life, who is not barred by legislative impediment, who is moved by a right intention, and who is fitted to bear the burdens of this life.”

CANDIDATES FOR A VOCATION

Archbishop Cushing has said: “All that is required of an aspirant to Holy Orders is a right intention and such fitness of nature and grace, manifested by integrity of life and sufficiency of learning, as will give a well-founded hope of his properly discharging the obligations of the priesthood. Consequently, there is the duty of seeking candidates for a vocation, rather than candidates with a vocation.”

In seeking candidates for a vocation, although it has been said that supernatural motives should be paramount, the attention of young people can be called to the opportunities for service as religious in such fields of activity as may appeal to their particular aptitudes and interests. They can be informed of the large variety of work done by members of the hundreds of religious orders and congregations, by secular priests, and by missionaries at home and abroad. The young woman who likes teaching has open before her the prospect of a wide variety of teaching activities: elementary, secondary, university, and college, opportunities in the field of nursing and of medicine and of occupational therapy, psychiatrics and psychology and teaching of the mentally retarded, of arts and crafts and literature and all the sciences. Here we can parallel the recruiting campaigns for the Armed Services which appeal to occupational or vocational aspirations of youth and a desire for travel and for adventure. But we have the advantage of supernatural appeal.

CONCLUSION

We have referred to the pressure, almost irresistible, of the secular world upon the youth of today. We have referred to the organized drive by the world of education and industry and commerce and of the Armed Forces and by secular vocational advisers towards secular life. The problem is in the din of the world’s compulsions for the young person to hear the still, small voice. Our purpose is to get the youth of today to pause, reflect, to investigate religious vocations, to ask parents and pastors for guidance, to pray constantly, and to listen for the quiet voice that may call them to devote themselves wholly and without reserve to a life-long service for the glory of God and the salvation of souls.

Nihil Obstat:

Percy Jones,

Censor Theol. Deputatus.

Imprimatur:

@ D. Mannix,

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis

********

Partnership With God

INDEX

“ . . . THEIR LIFE IS A LABORIOUS ONE; AND THEY HAVE IN THE CULTURE OF THE SOIL, A SCHOOL OF VIRTUE AND SOBRIETY, AND FOLLOW THAT ART WHICH GOD INTRODUCED BEFORE ALL OTHERS INTO OUR LIFE.”

(St. John Chrysostom, Homilies on the Statutes, XIX, 2)

CHRIST GLORIFIED IN THE SACRIFICE OF THE FARMER

(Address given by The Most Rev. Aloisius J. Muench, D.D., Bishop of Fargo, at the Sectional Meeting for Farmers, Ninth National Eucharistic Congress, St. Paul, Tuesday, June 24, 1941.)

AMONG all classes of society the farmer especially may hold himself to have been honoured by Our Lord. Beginning His beautiful parable of the vine and the branches He does not deem it to lower the exalted dignity of His Father to call Him a farmer:”Pater meus agricola est-My Father is a farmer.”[1] His teachings abound with references to and illustrations taken from farm life. He compared His kingdom to a vineyard, in the interest of which the manager went out to hire labourers. Again He compares it to a sheepfold of which He Himself is the good shepherd. A Christian’s life, dying to the things of this earth, is like a grain of wheat, the grain is placed into the ground to die, and “if it die it brings forth much fruit.”[2] The world is a vast field of grain ripe for the harvest; but, alas, “the harvest is abundant but the labourers are few.”[3] Thus, there is reference after reference to things of the farm to illustrate some point of His teaching.

But above all things the Lord used the product of wheat and of grapes, bread and wine, for the institution of the august sacrament of the Holy Eucharist. Bread and wine are the substances changed into the substance of the body and blood of our Blessed Saviour. Their sense appearances are the carriers of the most precious gifts of Our Lord’s love to us. In the consecrated elements of bread and wine Jesus Christ makes Himself present to be the spiritual food of men. He is the bread that has come down from heaven, of which if men eat they shall not die. With good reason, then, has Christian tradition used the sheaf of wheat and the vine with grapes, these precious products of the toil of a farmer, as symbols of the Holy Eucharist. Both adorn tabernacle and altar as symbols to give vivid expression to this great and loving mystery of our Catholic Faith; both play their part in beautifying Christian art and architecture, both enrich hymns and canticles composed to give honour to Our Lord in the Holy Eucharist. As he kneels in prayer before the tabernacle the farmer particularly has reason to glory in all this and to give profound thanks to His Lord and Master for having honoured his calling in so exalted a manner. The regard shown him for his work on the land ought to give him much encouragement.

Respect for his calling had not always been accorded the farmer. The pride and bombast of cities looked down with disdain upon his work. In the face of this “rural life became conscious of itself only to become ashamed of itself. The small farmer became apologetic. Rural living was something only to be endured.”[4] With derisive sneer, snobbish urbanites spoke of the farmer as a hick, a hayseed, a honyack. They knew not whereof they spoke.

The farmer’s calling is a sacred calling. True, he does not wear a white collar as he goes out to his work; his face is begrimed by dirt as caressing winds press in on him while he follows the plough; his hard-horned hands give proof of the toilsome labour that is his on the farmstead. But, what a tremendous fallacy has laid hold of the minds of men that they have come to think that fine clothes, powdered faces, and dainty hands measure the true worth of man’s calling. The sacredness of the farmer’s calling rests on something more substantial than such external things.

His is a sacred calling because he is collaborator with God in continuing the work of His creation. In partnership with God he becomes to men a provider of the food, fibre, and shelter they need. Let the farmer, then, no longer depreciate himself in his own eyes. His calling is among the noblest in all the world. The Lord considered it so, and the farmer must think of it in the same terms. With God he lives and works in the vast realms of His bountiful and beautiful nature. He is not one of the millions who in thick formations swarm through freedom-destroying factory gates. He is a freeman as he strides through his fields following a plough, or sowing his seed, or harvesting his crop. He breathes God’s free air uncontaminated by the dust and smoke of a factory town. He may lack some of the material things of city life. What does it matter? “There can be culture without comfort, beauty without luxury, machines without enslaving factories, science without worship of matter. Gigantic factories, office buildings rising to the sky, inhuman cities, industrial morals, faith in mass production, are not indispensable to civilization.”[5]

Let the farmer, then, think twice before he casts longing eyes cityward as though he could work out his salvation there in better fashion as a slave of some machine or as a white-collared serf working under some master in a bank, store, or office. No, indeed; as the farmer stands before his door after the day’s work is done and surveys all that is his, he has reason to give praise to God for the independence and liberty granted him by and through the soil he calls his own. When hard times come and city dwellers, with harassed minds and dejected hearts, take their places in a breadline, beggars who must eke out a pitiable existence on the few crumbs that fall from the tables of the rich or that are doled out by well-paid relief officials of the state, the farmer can go to his well-stocked larder for bread, and meat, and other good things which a provident, home-making farm wife has stored away. In such days particularly the farmer has reason to regard himself with a high sense of self-respect-self-respect based upon the independence and freedom that is his. In dark days when all the world is clutched by material distress he may give thanks to God in deep humility of heart for the noble calling that has come to him. He is not a hapless white- collared worker who with his job has lost his personality, he is not a rebellious factory hand who has become an insignificant nobody in the great multitude of jobless, propertyless, landless, homeless proletarians. In such an hour the farmer has reason indeed to give thanks to God that he was called to till the soil, reason to offer up to his Eucharistic Lord the many sacrifices he must make on account of long hours of work, the loneliness of isolation, the lack of material comforts, or even of near-by facilities to practice his religion.

In truth, the farmer’s calling is one that must command great respect. Much knowledge and much skill are required to manage well a farmstead with its land and fences, barns and granaries, tools and machinery. Farming is among the greatest of human arts. The farmer must be an artisan and a craftsman; a capitalist, financier, manager, and worker; a producer and seller. He must know soil and seed, poultry and cattle; he must know when to till the soil, cultivate his fields, and harvest his crops; he must know how best to combine and utilize his capital and his labour; he must know markets, when to buy and when to sell. Few occupations require such a combination of knowledge, skill, and experience as farming. The varied functions of a farmer require not merely a man of brawn but also a man of brain. Certainly it is not a calling for every man.

In the presence of his Lord the farmer should recall all this, not in senseless vain-glory or in sinful pride, but in grateful appreciation of the calling that God gave him as a tiller of the soil. Praise and thanksgiving should rise in his heart as he reflects on the high regard the Lord showered on him and his work.

But other pious and fruitful thoughts come to his mind as he kneels in the presence of his Eucharistic Lord. The Holy Eucharist is a superabundant source of life. It is life in and through Christ, who is life, who came upon earth in order that men might have life and have it abundantly, who shares His life generously with those who abide in Him. Through the Holy Eucharist our membership in the Mystical Body of Christ becomes a living and fruitful membership so that with St. Paul we may cry out: “I live, now not I, but Christ liveth in me.”[6] Our Blessed Lord thought of our living with Him as an organic union with Him. “I am the vine, you are the branches,” He said, “He who abides in Me, and I in him, he bears much fruit.”[7] Organic life-that is the law of all life in nature and supernature.

No one better than the farmer understands the meaning of organic life. Every day he sees it burgeoning, and blossoming, and bearing fruit. Organic life is all around him. He sees it in the blade of grass in his meadow, as well as in the stalk of wheat or corn that raises itself in gratitude to God to offer Him its precious, golden fruit. He sees organic life in the cattle peacefully browsing on rich green pastures, in the poultry as it forages about, now with lazy ease, now with greedy haste, to find its daily food; in the bees as they fly busily and industrially from flower to flower to gather from them sweet nectar on which to feed during long winter months. Everywhere nature teems with life, organic life. The very soil on which the farmer treads is filled with myriad forms of organic life, all called by their Creator to be about their respective tasks to help the farmer win from nature’s storehouse the things needed for the life of men.

With the three young men who sang their canticle of praise in honour of God the Creator of the visible and invisible world the farmer, too has cause to raise his voice in praise of Him who placed all this beauty and all this wealth of organic life round about him; indeed, put it into his hands to care for it as His manager and to draw from it life for himself and his fellowmen. The farmer works with organic life, not with lifeless, soul-deadening machines. Machines have routed organic life. Machines have killed its soul. We live in a mechanistic age. Machines are found on every side-clanging and clicking, stamping and groaning, whirling and whirring machines-noisome, infernal machines, busy all day with their soul-killing routine. Men call them a product of civilization, yes, even of culture, despite the fact that they have created a slave civilization in which millions of workers are chained to the levers of machines.

It would be stupid, of course, to say that machines have not added to man’s creature comfo rts, to ease and enjoyment of life. Indeed, they have, but let it be added at once that, while on the one hand they have given to large numbers of workers freedom from drudgery and freedom from hard and long labour, they have on the other hand brought little less than slavish dependence and certainly much insecurity to tens of thousands of other industrial workers. Worse still products of man’s ingenuity, they are used for purposes of destruction of what is finest and best in civilization. They have become purveyors of death; they hurtle it from the sky, shoot it forth from gigantic guns, send it racing through the waters from out of the ocean’s depths. They have become the symbols of mechanistic nihilism, destroying not only precious human lives but also precious things of art accumulated through long ages out of the sweat, and toil, and ingenuity of the labour of man.

Hardly any one better than the farmer senses the folly, yes, the crime of war. Instinctively he shrinks back from its terrible horrors because he has learned to know the real meaning of life. Daily he companions with life, with plants and animals, with insects and birds, with microbes and weeds, with organisms at their best and at their worst.

In his daily work he becomes appreciative of the organic endowment and organic power of life. As the cavalcade of life passes daily before his eyes, even though he does not know how to express it in words, he senses the sacredness of life. Will it always be so? Will the machine invade the farmsteads of our countryside with its processes of mass production and its slavery of commercialized human activity? Will it bend the farmer low with debt and stamp his mind with the mentality of sellers and speculators on the markets of the world? Will it rob him of his contentment, all the while it brings him greater ease in his work, and rob him too of the sacred tradition of his forebears to work, produce, and live first for his family household and then out of his surpluses for the demands of the markets of the world? Will it make a grinding job of his daily task, shackle him with greed for more land, and make of him a landless worker in Rural America? The machine will not destroy his soul if the farmer ever remembers that he must remain its master and never allow himself to become its slave; if ever he remembers that God gave him the sacred calling of being the custodian of the life of His nature.

Such reflections will come to him as he hears again the voice from the tabernacle: “I am the life. I am the vine you are the branches. I am the source of all organic life, its author, its creator. You, my beloved son, are its custodian. I have placed it into your hands. Keep it and guard it as a sacred trust.”

Christ’s life in the Church is an organic life. Our Lord Himself ta ught that when he compared Himself to the vine and us to the branches. We are all united in Christ. Indeed, we all who are baptized in Christ “are one body in Christ, but severally members one of another.”[8] In other words we belong to the Mystical Body of Christ. The Eucharistic Bread gives symbolic expression to this important and vital truth, for St. Paul writes: “Because the bread is one, we though many, are one body, all of us who partake of the one bread.”[9] Catholic tradition expanded this idea by showing how the Eucharistic Bread has been made from many grains of wheat and the Eucharistic Wine from many grapes of the vine; so we also, being many form one bread, one body in Christ.

Supernatural life, then, is organic even as is natural life. All the life we see in nature is made of tiny living organisms, called cells. Each has its special function, but all combine to form a living being. Billions of such cells form the body of man; all are required for his well-being. Both nature and supernature furnish the pattern for the farmer’s social and economic life. He must not stand alone, he must not live his life in isolation from his neighbours. He must combine with his fellow farmers for purposes of cooperation. In the field of his material interests thes e undertakings of cooperation are cooperatives. While co-operatives serve material and earthly interests they must be carried by ideals of religion, particularly the ideals of social charity. Social charity inculcates brotherly love in social relations, and inspires to mutual service and helpfulness. Without the spirit of social charity co-operatives will fail, because social charity is “the soul of the social order,” to quote the meaningful words of Pius XI. Social charity is nothing else than Christian charity applied to the social relations of man. It teaches cooperators how to apply Christ’s new commandment to their cooperative enterprises. “A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another; that as I have loved you, you also love one another.”[10] In the spirit of this love co-operators will respect one another’s opinions, seek to get along with each other, bear up under criticism, subdue jealousies, stop petty bickerings, in short, will be kind, respectful, and helpful one toward another. This service concept of social charity goes far beyond the relief or alms concept of social charity, as precious and salutary as this concept is under certain circumstances. Social charity is a bigger charity; it meets the great needs of fraternal fellowship in all social and economic, civic and political relations of men.

Viewed in this light, co-operatives do more than build up the material fortunes of co-operators. They build men. Because of this high ideal of co-operation the Antigonish Movement has been eminently successful. Its chief leader, the inspiration of the whole movement, Father J. J. Tompkins, has preached the doctrine in season and out of season: “We are not building cooperatives, we are building men.”[11]

For the proper functioning of social charity devotion, generosity, and self-sacrifice are required. Where can a Catholic farmer learn that better than before the Eucharistic Tabernacle. There in the Sacrament of Love dwells the Divine Co-operator who thinks not of Himself but of us, Who expends His love on us with superabundant devotion, Who laid down His life for us because He loved us and loved us to the end. No greater love has any man ever shown for his friends than Our Blessed Saviour showed for us poor sinners. He continues to show that love for us.

Bound together by His golden bonds of love we meet together at this Eucharistic Congress deeply conscious of the great truth expressed by the incomparable St. Augustine fifteen centuries ago when he exclaimed in praise of the Holy Eucharist: “O sacrament of love! O sign of unity! O bond of charity!” In truth, the Holy Eucharist is all that but especially the Sacrament of charity. It contains Him who is Divine Charity; it symbolizes charity; it effects charity.

As the farmer reflects on all that the Holy Eucharist means for him in his work he will feel himself richly compensated for all the sacrifices he must make as tiller of God’s land. He will give praise to the Lord for having called him to be the custodian and manager of the riches of His nature. He will labour with Him to enrich his own life and that of his fellows in society with the precious things that are found in the vast and inexhaustible storehouses of the world which God created for the use and enjoyment of men. To our Eucharistic Lord, who is immortal, invisible, the one only God, be honour and glory forever and ever. Amen.

ENDNOTES

1. John 15, 1.

2. John 12, 25.

3. Matthew 9, 37.

4. Boyle, “Democracy’s Second Chance,” p. 8.

5. Carrel, “Man the Unknown,” p. 296.

6. Gal. 2, 20.

7. John 15, 5.

8. Rom. 12, 5.

9. I Cor. 10, 17

10. John 13, 34.

11. Boyle, cf. cit. p. 146.

********

Pass It On

ROBERT NASH, S. J

INDEX

On the first page of our booklet let me begin by setting down three suppositions.

Nine or ten months ago you and I met in O’Connell Street and you told me you were then about to send your little Mollie, aged six-and-a-half, to Miss Kearie to be taught the piano. We meet again today and I ask you how the child is progressing, only to be informed that she is doing very poorly indeed and that you are inclined to believe that Miss Kearie is incompetent. I express my regret, we shake hands and part company.

BLAME THE DOCTOR

On going into my house I find the telephone ringing. There is an urgent message from my old friend John Smith telling me he has been ill in bed for some weeks and asking me to call round. Yes I shall, of course, and at the first opportunity. So this evening I take the bus that passes by his house and get off at the stop. I sit by his bedside and John proceeds to give me a lengthy and detailed account of his ailment, from the first symptoms seven weeks ago to the amount of sleep he had last night. And whatdoes the doctor think of it all? Oh, the doctor! There’s the rub! My old friend assures me he has no confidence in the doctor at all; he is convinced that under another he would be quite cured long ago. It is only since this sickness came his way that stories have reached him which prove conclusively the luckless doctor’s lack of skill. Once more. my condolences to poor John, and, as I pick up my hat and gloves and bid him good afternoon, 1 recommend him to call in another physician.

My third supposition. Y ou are thinking, I’m told, of investing six or seven hundred pounds in some new scheme that is being boosted, and you consult a solicitor about it. He is wise and experienced and a friend of your family to boot. He tells you what to do and you invest your money. But what is my dismay, when, on opening the paper to-morrow morning, I read that the firm is smashed or the scheme collapsed, and your precious hard-earned seven hundred gone with the wind. I write to tell you how genuinely sorry I am, and your reply is a fierce tirade against the solicitor who advised you.

But on further investigation I make some surprising discoveries. I find that the excellent Miss Kearie was wont to insist that for the progress of your child regular and constant practice at the piano was imperative. But little Mollie much prefers to play and romp about after school is over, and with a. helpless shrug of the shoulders you tell me that the darling child must have her way. That point is at least debatable, but what is quite certain is that if you thus meekly acquiesce, It is grossly unfair to blame the teacher for Mollie’s tardy advancement.

NOT FAIR

I learn that that doctor warned my friend John that he must at all costs lie perfectly still in bed, but John behaves like a charged dynamo. On no account, says doctor, is the patient to eat meat, above all beef or mutton. But John waves the injunction aside and stoutly declares that beef and mutton it must be. Sugar and sugared things are fatal in John’s case, declares the medical expert. But your old friend often told you with a wink that he had asweet tooth, so when doctor’s back is turned it is sugar and sweets every time. I’m not wondering any more now why the illness is a long-drawn-out affair, but I certainly feel nothing but indignation at the attack launched against the doctor and his treatment of the case.

And as for your solicitor friend. The fact now comes to light that he did everything in his power to dissuade you from making that investment. He warned you that it was his considered opinion that that company was a swindle and the big dividends offered only a snare for the unwary. But you were pigheaded and you would have, your way. He implored you at least to wait a few months and see how things would pan out. No you turned a deaf ear and rushed into the scheme that looked so alluring. Well to be sure, I’m very very sorry that you are at a loss of seven or eight hundred, especially in these bad times. But do not expect me to sympathise with you when you begin to rail against the man whose advice you refused with such obstinacy to follow.

The Catholic Church is a teacher. For two thousand years she has proclaimed to the ends of the earth that if men will seek first the kingdom of God and His justice all other things will be added unto them. And for her pains she is laughed out of court.

The Catholic Church is a physician and she makes the emphatic avowal that she holds in her hands remedies that will heal many of the ills that flesh is heir to. For all men she can make their burden lighter though she does not pretend to be able to lift it entirely from their shoulders. For, she avers, this world must remain ever a valley of tears, a period of exile and probation before the homecoming. But her methods of healing are declared to be out-of-date, and her medicines are rudely flung back in her face.

A SAFE INVESTMENT

The Catholic Church maintains that outside her fold there is no salvation. All other investments are not only shaky, but doomed and condemned beforehand. Wherefore let men be wise in time and examine her claims and her promises. If they are outside her pale let them study their position and see if it is tenable, and if they find it is not, let them hasten to give to her the obedience which is her due. This is arrogance on her part, you will be told, and sensible men turn on their heel away from her with a contemptuous smile.

On Good Friday, Jesus Christ stood on the balcony of Pilate’s palace and looked down at the seething mass of men that thronged the street in front. ―Away with this Man,‖ they shouted. ―We will not have this Man to rule over us.‖ And for two thousand years the cry has been sending its echo into the world. Christ continues to live in His Church, to teach with her voice, to advance standards of value and rules of conduct that are diametrically opposed to those of the world. And the world continues to shout: ―Away with this Church that curbs our freedom! Away with her denunciation of sin! Away with her dogmas that fetter and restrain! Crucify her! Crucify her!‖

YOU CATHOLICS

In view of all this it is easy to fathom the profound wisdom in a remark made some time ago by a young Communist. He told a Catholic friend of mine: ―You Catholics have been running the world for two thousand years and you’ve made a bad mess of it. It’s about time you cleared out and gave us a chance.‖ Running the world-when for two thousand years the world has consistently spurned the church’s teaching! Running the world-when the Holy Father is excluded from the world’s conferences and his appeals ignored! If the world is in a mess the reason is, not that she has tried out the Church’s remedies and found them wanting. Rather, has, she attacked the Church by fire and sword, by specious lies, by laughter and by ridicule, simply because the Ten Commandments and the Counsels could never be made to tally with the self indulgent, sinloving gospel of the world. Hence the Church’s solutions of men’s problems are humped overboard, and when chaos results the same world turns complacently to Pope and Church and complains: ―see what a mess you have made of things!’ I hope our Communist friend has a sense of humour.

When St. John the Baptist was preaching at the Jordan bank, the priests and levites came out to see him and to ask him: ―Who are thou?. . . . What sayest thou of thyself?‖ It is proposed in this booklet to put the same question to the Catholic Church and listen to her answer. What does she claim to be and what reasons has she for making these claims? She is charged with, being intolerant, with the scandalous lives of many of her children, with love of show and pride and grasping for money. What has she to say by way of answer? ―What sayest thou of thyself?‖

PASS IT ON

It will be useful to enquire thus for those outside her fold and it is hoped that this booklet may fall into their hands. In fact, it just occurs to my mind that you, dear reader, could take a hint from the title and perhaps pass this pamphlet on when you have finished with it yourself. For it is the Church’s great joy to answer every earnest enquiry. She is only too glad to tell the world the why and the wherefore of every doctrine taught to her children. Catholics do not believe merely because they must follow with a sort of blind instinct the guidance of their Church as though religion could be reduced to a game of blind man’s bluff. It is quite true that there are many Catholics whose faith is simple and they are satisfied to submit unquestioningly to whatever the Church tells them to do or to believe. But before we end it will be very clear, we hope that every Catholic has the right to understand the reasonableness of his faith.

Indeed the Church encourages her children to investigate thus and it is her proud boast that every single argument against her is answerable; and has been answered in a manner calculated to convince a fair-minded questioner. She has no fear from argument, rather does she welcome it. Her grievance today as Mgr. Fulton Sheen points out, ‗is rather that she can discover as few adversaries worthy of her steel. She is far indeed from feeling resentment if you question her for she has within her the immovable conviction that her doctrine is divine. Christ, her Founder, the Son of God, has entrusted to her His teaching, and, with it the commission to pass it on to all subsequent generations.

So the thoughts jotted down here may be useful to non-Catholics, but not to them only. We ourselves, as Catholics, need to keep constantly reminding ourselves of the truly magnificent treasure we possess in our Catholic Faith. There is a real danger that we take it all too much for granted, and the complaints about our apathy and indifference are by no means without foundation. The trouble is that we do not give ourselves time to think and to realise what a heritage is ours. Nor does this surprise one, for the great aim and object of our world is to prevent men from having opportunity or inclination to think, or to think on right lines. Radio, cinema, illustrated paper-all these are ready, standing by, and waiting to do our thinking for us. There is no room left, or very little, for the soul- satisfying truths of our faith to absorb our minds, to sink in and become in our lives the dynamic forces that they ought to be.

CLEANING THE WINDOW

When the window is clouded over, you can distinguish the beauties of nature outside only with great difficulty. But polish that pane thoroughly and now look again. What a transformation! There before you is the wide expanse of ocean, the yachts with their white sails dotting the surface, the sea gulls, the clear blue sky over-head. Of course you knew all the time that these things were there, but because the window was dull and clouded you were not able to see them. It is good to clean too the windows which open out on the beauties of the supernatural. It is good to look and to realise, not merely to give to truth a dry intellectual assent of the mind. It is good to shut off your radio, to turn away your mind from the thought of the film stars and the make-believe of Hollywood, to throw aside your light novel or illustrated weekly, and give yourself a chance of hearing the Church’s answer when you face her with the question: ―What sayest thou of thyself?‖

It is good, because such an attitude is bound to make you realise the solid structure upon which your faith rests, the beauty of it all, the challenge to you to live it more fully than you have been doing. Is not this realisation the crying need amongst us today?

DOES IT SINK IN?

Not so long ago I heard a profoundly moving and inspiring series of sermons. The Church was packed to the doors and the audience listened with reverent and rapt attention. So far so good. But as they filed out of the Church one could hardly help wondering how much of that sublime teaching would sink in and become part and parcel of their lives. For no sooner were they outside than cigarettes were lighted and chatter began about the trivialities of everyday life. The seed had indeed been cast upon the ground but was it going to take root? What practical difference in their daily lives was that series of talks going to, make? Undoubtedly it did much to uplift, but it is beyond question that its effects would have been immeasurably deeper and more lasting if men would afterwards sit back and think and pray and realise.

So the object of these pages is to deepen that spirit of faith by reminding ourselves of the why and the wherefore of what we believe. We shall put forward arguments that may be easily grasped by the man In the street, so do not be afraid that you are going to be rowed far out into deep theological waters. Our task will be, not so much to put the full case for the Catholic Church before you-which would obviously be impossible in a booklet of this size. Rather, we shall try to open up avenues of thought and indicate lines of argument which will help to instil into yourself a pride in your faith and show you the attitude to take up if you hear attacks made on your Church or if you are asked questions concerning her teaching.

“WHAT SAYEST THOU”

―What. sayest thou of thyself?‖ What then is the claim of the Catholic Church? She stands before the world to-day, as she has done for these two thousand years, and she tells all men that Jesus Christ is God, the real Son of God, and that she and she alone has been commissioned by Him to teach all nations. Other forms of Christianity have preserved part, but only part, of that definite body of truth left behind by Christ at the end of His life. At different times they have broken away from her unity and taken with them a section of her doctrine. They have picked and chosen and have rejected portions of the original teaching of Jesus Christ. They are thus man-made, whereas she is divine, and the result is the truly lamentable spectacle we witness today, that they are fast falling to pieces, Every day it is becoming more evident that nonCatholic forms of Christianity are failing to hold the allegiance of their followers, and with deep regret one listens to the reiterated complaints about the empty pews.

Jesus taught, not vague generalities, but a very definite code of laws to be obeyed and a very definite body of truths to be believed. He did not tell His followers that He was just giving them His views for what they were worth; His command, on the contrary, is to teach exactly what He has taught, ―all things whatsoever I have commanded you.‖ And to this teaching He attaches a most weighty sanction: ―he that believeth and is baptized shall be saved, he that believeth not shall be condemned.‖ His doctrine is of such vital importance that any other course is utterly unthinkable. He could not, for instance, leave men free to believe or not to believe in eternal punishment, in the forgiveness of sin, in the necessity of Baptism, in the indissoluble nature of marriage. These things involve issues of such overwhelming weight that His teaching about them had to be clear-cut and accurate.

The Catholic Church maintains that it is, that to her keeping He entrusted it, and that to her and to her alone He gave the mandate, to tell it to the world.

It is to be noted that Our Lord says nothing to His Church about committing His doctrine to writing. His order is to preach it, to pass it on by the living voice to all nations. The book containing portion of His teaching was not completed till many years after His death; what then would have become of the, first Christians if they could find His teaching only from a source which was not yet existing? Given His obvious anxiety that men should know and understand what He had come to tell them it would be astounding if He intended them to discover this only within the pages of a book, and at the same time took no trouble to see to it that that book was written.

A LIVING TEACHER

Yet there are to be found Christians who profess to be able to learn for themselves all that Our Lord taught by studying the gospels. Catholics ask logically why then He never instructed His apostles to write. How does a father behave when he wants to have his child educated? He sends him to a living teacher. What would you think of a parent who would take his child by the hand, lead him into the library and explain to him that he has here at his disposal all the books he requires to equip his mind? The child looks blankly at those shelves and sees that the father’s idea is ludicrous. The child will never learn unless someone explains to him the meaning of those letters and the idioms of those languages.

Could it be possible that in the discovery of the most important truths of all Our Lord would leave you and me to wade through the pages of a book ―in which,‖ says St. Peter, ―are contained things hard to be understood which the unlearned and unstable wrest, to their own destruction?‖ Is this the only source from which to draw forth truths which are necessary for our eternal salvation? The idea is unthinkable. No. Our Lord instituted a living teacher who, with living voice would preach His gospel down through the centuries.

This does not by any means imply that the Catholic is wanting in respect for the Bible. Far from it. It is part of his faith that that Word is divinely-inspired that it has God for its author, that God guided the writer as he committed to writing what God wished to be so committed. But these difficult writings need competent authority to interpret them. Modern forms of Christianity, in a pitiable attempt to hold their members together, put as the central principle of all religion the comfortable Reformation theory of private judgment. In flagrant contradiction to Christ they declare that it really does not matter very much what interpretation you give His teaching. ‗Modern Protestantism clamours for ―good works‖ and attaches little or no importance to what you believe. What a swing of the pendulum this is! For in the sixteenth century the slogan was that what you did counted for nothing, provided only your belief was firm. The supposedly same sect teaching two directly opposing doctrines!

CHAOS AND CONTRADICTION

A Protestant of to-day may attend service in any one of three or four hundred churches and listen to as many preachers expounding as many contradictory teachings from their pulpits. All, forsooth, are labourers in the vineyard of the Lord! But is it conceivable that Our Lord could allow men to flounder about in such hopeless confusion concerning questions that affect their eternal salvation? I, a Catholic, maintain that Our Lord is really present in the Blessed Eucharist. You, a non-Catholic, prefer to hold that His words are to be taken in a figurative sense. You prefer, notice! As if it were or could possibly be, a matter of choice! A Catholic holds that sins are to be confessed to a priest, but the idea of kneeling thus to a fellow-man does no appeal to you, a non-Catholic. You consider that Christ could never have meant that.

You consider; it does not appeal,- so that then is the criterion of right and wrong? But who is to decide for you? Can it possibly be a matter of mere conjecture? ―Why bother?‖ asks your Protestant friend blandly, ―let’s each go our own way and shake hands on It.‖ But which is Christ’s way? What did He lay down as the objective truth? Talk of this kind does not make sense and the Catholic must very resolutely and logically refuse to take the proffered hand.

Let me insist that these hard sayings are set down in no cynical or aggressive frame of mind. The Catholic is honestly puzzled and mystified to understand how reasonable men can blink at the problems they raise.

To the Catholic the solution seems evident-these sad contradictions are the consequences that follow when men take it upon themselves to tamper with the teaching deposited by Christ in His Church. This babel of voices has arisen because men have refused to listen to the living teacher to whom alone the divine Master gave authority to teach in His name. There must be confusion and harrowing doubts when men cannot tell with absolute certainty just exactly what Our Lord meant and they cannot tell because they have severed themselves from the one Church which alone has inherited the full body of His doctrine and the command from Him to pass it on to subsequent generations.

SUCH INTOLERANCE!

From what we have been saying it is easy to the charge of intolerance which is frequently brought up against the Church. Suppose you have been walking every day for a month along the road leading into a certain town. What is going to happen if I try to tell you that that road does not lead into that town but into some other? Why, you know it does. Haven’t you walked it yourself twenty times and proved to yourself where it leads? What will you say to me if I attempt to persuade you that sugar gives your cup of tea a bitter taste? Or that the world is flat or the moon made of green cheese or that it is only your imagination that thinks the rain is falling outside, or the sun shining in the sky?

If you take me seriously at all you will retort by telling me that I am talking nonsense. Why, you know by experience what the truth is. You will probably grow impatient if I persist in my arguing. You are called to the phone and you tell me you know it is Jim or Mary at the other end, because you have listened to their voice. You say you could not possibly doubt who has just turned that corner, for you saw it was Jane or Tom. You are quite certain that this letter handed to you by the postman is from Harry or Joe or Alice or Dan for you recognise at once the postmark and the writing on the envelope. You are intolerant of questioning or contradiction in these cases because your evidence is incontestable.

NO COMPROMISE

The Catholic Church is intolerant for precisely the same reason. It is sheer nonsense to speak, as some times men do speak, about modernising the divine message. Truth is eternal, and the Church may no more compromise herself by teaching just exactly what she has been told to teach, or by ceasing to teach it, than she may affirm that Julius Caesar is President today in the United States or that Dublin is the capital of Soviet Russia. This sounds fantastic, but it would be just as ridiculous for the Church. to change her teaching on, say, marriage, or hell, or eternal punishment or divorce, or the Immaculate Conception of the Blessed Virgin. She cannot be tolerant where dogma is concerned for truth is objective. She knows what Jesus taught about these things for she is His creation. Like St. John she knows that His testimony is true, and she passes on to the world that which she has heard with her ears and seen with her eyes and handled with her hands, for Jesus has spoken to her and told her just. exactly what to say and how to say it.

It is her claim that she has preserved Christ’s pre cious deposit of faith from all the corrupting influences that have assailed it throughout the centuries. Her contention is based on Our Lord’s promise that the gates of hell will never prevail against her, and on His assurance that He will shield her from error when she speaks to men as His divine mouthpiece. Knowing this promise and leaning upon it, I ask you how can she be otherwise than intolerant of any who try to gainsay her?

QUOTING FATHER LORD, S.J

At the same time we have to keep in mind that the Church uses every possible human means to guard herself against making a mistake. ―The Church which speaks with the voice of Christ has taught truth for twenty centuries without one mistake, without one necessity for admitting an error, without one withdrawal from a position firmly taken, without a single false teaching to which the accusing finger of its enemies can point in scorn. . . . Show me one other institution in the world that has done the same and I will pay it the homage of my soul. . . . My Church goes on, quietly repeating the words of Christ, teaching without the need of denying its own teaching, facing each new problem with absolute surety. My faith is built upon a rock and upon the unfailing promise of Jesus Christ.‖

How has this remarkable feat been achieved? First of all through the fidelity of Christ to His promise that He would always be with his Church, and that He would send upon her His Holy Spirit to preserve her immune from error,- “to lead you into all truth,” ―to bring all things to your minds whatsoever I have told you.‖

But there is something else. There is the extreme caution of the Church in examining every side of a question before coming to a decision. Father Brodrick, S.J in his “Life St. Peter Canisius,” illustrates this by telling us of the care with which the Council of Trent discussed one single point of doctrine. On this one point alone the Council held sixty-one General Congregations and forty- four others each occupying from three to six hours. Three different drafts on the point were drawn up, discussed word by word with most painstaking scrutiny, and then, at the end of all this they were finally rejected!

Confidence in her teaching? Even if she never claimed the infallible guidance of God, would it be very rash to trust the decisions of a Church that goes to such extraordinary lengths to safeguard herself against error?

A NON-CATHOLIC ASKS

I am reminded here too, of the non-Catholic who complained to a Catholic friend about the canonisation of saints. How could the Catholic Church be sure when declaring that a man was now actually in heaven, and had practised heroic virtue on earth? By way of answering, the Catholic gave to his non-Catholic enquirer a full printed account of the deliberations and discussions that had arisen in connection with a proposed candidate for canonisation. Some days later the nonCatholic returned smiling with satisfaction. ―If your Church takes all that much trouble I have no more to say.‖ ―You are satisfied, then, that this man was worthy of canonisation?‖ ―Well, you are more easy to convince than the congregation at Rome, for the account I gave you is that of a man whose cause was turned down!‖

In view of all this we can understand the calm certitude with which the Catholic Church states her claim: ―I know the truth because Jesus Christ, the Son of God has entrusted it to me and His holy Spirit directs me and preserves me from the possibility of making a mistake when I define what my sons and daughters are to believe or to do. I am conscious of this to myself and I can provide it to any reasonable man. Moreover, there is no institution on earth which takes the same care as I do before coming to a decision. Learned men and saintly men examine every conceivable aspect of every question proposed to me, and only slowly, very slowly indeed, and after immense labour and prayer do I come to a decision.‖

―What sayest thou of thyself?‖ This, briefly, is the Church’s answer.

Do not tell me such a Church is credulous. Divine though she be, she still uses every human means to protect herself from taint of error. You may trust her, there fore, don’t you think?

GOD DOESN’T

―Your Church is behind the times,‖ said an American tourist to an old man in the west of Ireland. ―We are living in an age of progress. Look at this grand motor of mine-sixty years ago who could have thought of travelling in such ease and with such speed? Look at the radio and cinema and see what they have done to develop entertainment and instruction. There is the telephone-who knew anything about it a hundred years ago? This is a go-ahead age and take it from me, your Church will have to get moving too. Her teaching is out of date, and won’t suit the modern mind, and if she wants to hold her followers, she’ll have to change. They won’t stand for what men were ready to accept in the past.‖

And the old man, slowly taking the clay pipe from his mouth, made an swer: ―Yes, sir, there is some truth in what you say. I’m living here now for over sixty years and I’ve seen many a change in my day. But during all those years I’ve also observed that the seasons of the year follow each other in exactly the same order. The sun rises and sets in just the same way. The sea comes in and goes out with the very same regularity. And I’ve come to the conclusion that what is human is indeed subject to change, but God’s own handiwork remains unaltered.‖

DEVELOPMENT OF DOGMA

The mention of Mary’s Immaculate Conception a few pages back brings to my mind a possible objection. In 1854 the Catholic Church solemnly defined this dogma in the following majestic language: By the authority of Our Lord Jesus Christ, of the Blessed Apostles Peter and Paul and Ours, we declare, pronounce, and define, that the doctrine which maintains that the Most Blessed Virgin Mary in the first instant of her Conception was, by a singular grace and privilege of God, preserved free from all stain of original sin, is revealed by God and therefore firmly and for ever to be believed by all the faithful. Wherefore if any presume (which God avert), to believe in their heart differently from what has been defined by Us, let them know . . . that their faith has suffered shipwreck, and that they have severed themselves from the unity of the Church. . . . ‖

Now here arises a difficulty. Before this definition a Catholic was free to accept or reject as he pleased the doctrine of Mary’s Immaculate Conception. Today he stands condemned, branded as a heretic, if he dares to believe even in his heart that the Immaculate Conception is untrue. Does this not argue to a change in the Church’s teaching?

The Church is a living organism and all life manifests itself by growth. Growth is only the bringing to light of what was there already in germ as the great oak is in the acorn. In just the same way the Church explores, as occasion demands, into the content of the ―deposit of faith‖ left her by her divine Founder. After careful examination she finds that Scripture and Tradition warrant her in declaring that such and such a dogma has been implicitly believed all the time and contained in her teaching. Her definition does no more than clarify the issue and make binding on her children the result of her findings. Thus there is no new dogma added, no change in her teaching, only a declaration that (in the instance given) the Immaculate Conception was all along contained in her deposit,- though not explicitly adverted to-and now that on investigation she has found this to be so, her children are no longer free to believe or not to believe.

A PORTRAIT GALLERY

Thus far our task, in the main, has been to state the position which the Catholic Church claims for herself in the world. Now comes the all-important question: Is this claim of hers true or only an arrogant boast?

In every age the most brilliant intellects have faced that question. Often they tackled it in a prejudiced and hostile attitude. They proceeded to place under the microscope every jot and tittle of the case for Catholicism with the object of proving to the world that her claims were nonsense. Very often they had, from a worldly standpoint, nothing to gain and everything to lose, by entering the Catholic Church.

Now when men of mightiest intellects examine the arguments for Catholicism in such a biased frame of mind; when they set out with the hope of being able to overthrow those arguments; when they have no other idea in their minds than this in putting their questions to her; when for them the road to Rome bristles with difficulties,-loss of friends arid loved associations, not seldom of the very means of livelihood; and when with all that they ultimately submit to the teaching of the Church with the simplicity of little children, I think it must be admitted that the step they take deserves our most careful and respectful consideration.

A HUNDRED YEARS

It will repay us to make a visit to a portrait gallery of famous converts, for, say, the past hundred years. A hundred years ago the Catholics of England, persecuted for three centuries, had dwindled to an insignificant minority. Then the revival began, and where? In Oxford, the home of learning and of reason, the sanctuary and centre of England’s culture. The brightest intellectual luminary that shone in that firmament-possibly in any firmament-was John Henry Newman. A deeply religious man, passionately attached to the Church in which he was born, Newman at first opposed the new movement Romewards. But after much harassing doubts and many heartaches, after prolonged examination and prayer, this genius of all times made his great act of faith. Why? Because he saw perfectly clearly that it was reasonable.

To quote Mr. de Blacam: ―Loving the lofty Anglican culture and especially its sanctuary at Oxford, where the ancient walls and quadrangles are a kind of stone built, oak-girded city of the soul, Newman went out of it sorrowing, because his reason told him he must. These things he loved but he could not enjoy them unless he was willing to remain apart from the living unity of the Church. So he made his decision.‖

Twenty years later this master of English prose gave to the world his ―Apologia‖ explaining the steps which had logically led him to make this momentous change, a change in which sentiment fought hard against reason and reason came forth victorious.

SUCH A PRICE!

About the same period you have the Anglican vicar, George Spencer. His reason showed him the logic and common sense of the Catholic position, but what a sacrifice, or rather what a whole series of sacrifices, he must make if he is going to be consistent! There is the complete upset to the family he loved and in which he was an idol-”so deep an affliction to my dear father and mother,‖ wrote his sister, ―so great a breaking-up of our family, so painful a loss at Althrop, that it weighs us all down . . . altogether a bad business.”

Nor was this all. Spencer, on becoming a Catholic, had to give up his comfortable living at Great Brington. He wrote to his bishop to tell him, and said with a smile as he closed the envelope: ―There goes £3,000 a year!‖ He would accept this sacrifice, he would seem to be ready to face indeed any sacrifice, he would be the unwilling cause of making to bleed the hearts of all he loved most on this earth-why? Because as a reasonable man he saw, on investigation, that the claims of the Catholic Church rested on evidence that was unassailable.

In our own day you have Chesterton, pillar of orthodoxy, laughingly showing to those outside the fold the absurdity of their position. You have Arnold Lunn who began his examination of the Church’s claims in order, to overthrow them, and ended by writing magnificent defenses of her-nor is his doughty pen yet dry. You have Dr. Orchard, zealous and beloved Evangelical clergyman, to whom all of his communion turned for light and guidance; trusted, consulted, respected everywhere as a tower of learning and a sincere and able exponent of truth. All these roots he tore up and became a Catholic because he saw that the Church had reason on her side.

OTHER CONVERTS

In America you have Heywood Broun, prophet of communism, an outstanding labour leader, spending at one period practically his entire salary of £7,000 a year on Communistic propaganda, and at the same time scarcely allowing himself the luxury of a new suit. Gradually the light began to dawn. Little by little reason showed him that communism was a myth and Catholicism truth, and, sincere man that he was, he made the sacrifice that logically followed. His conversion struck Americans like a thunderbolt.

Now there would be nothing easier than to keep on pointing out to you, one after another these portrait of distinguished men, in every walk of life, who have made their submission to Rome. I might remind you of Niels Adenson, of Dr. Wu, one of China’s greatest scholars, and of a whole host of others like them, who in this our own age, and in every age, have accepted Catholicism because they saw how reasonable it is. You need no Daniel to come to judgment and impress upon you that they are splendid advertisements, and at least persuasive arguments, for the faith they profess.

And lest it be said that the argument cuts both ways and that this stream of converts is balanced or perhaps even outbalanced by the defections from the Faith let me quote the saying of Lord John Russell, no friend assuredly of the Catholic Church: ―While the Church of England loses some of her fairest flowers to Rome all we get in return, are the weeds which the Pope throws over his backgarden wall!‖

APOSTATES

The Catholic reads with grief of Martin Luther, the apostate monk, who repudiated the solemn obligations of the religious state, which he had voluntarily accepted, but if the Protestant Church is proud of Luther, no Catholic is going to feel envious. Henry VIII broke away from Catholic unity and founded a sect of his own because the Pope refused to sanction his divorce. It is matter for regret that a man who once earned from the Pope the proud title of ―Defender of the Faith‖ should fall so low. But if Protestantism wishes to enthrone such a man as its lord and master, the Catholic can feel for Protestantism nothing but sorrow

Men have left the Church for many reasons -specious or real. The Catholic Church is too strict or too lax, she is out of date or she is introducing novelties, she speaks out too much or she refuses to speak when speech is imperative. But no man has ever yet left the Church on the plea that her doctrine was not holy and calculated to make him holy.

If I hear an apostate son or daughter declaring they have doubts about the faith, I find it hard to keep myself from suspecting that the root of the trouble is, not faith but morals. Let the Church but change her definition of sin and what an influx there would be of returning prodigals! If I read a particularly virulent attack on the Church by a lapsed Catholic I confess to having an uneasy fear lest his pen, thus dripping with vitriol may be designed as a rapier thrust of revenge. ―Faith,‖ it has been well said, ―cannot be lost or mislaid or stolen; it can only be wilfully bartered away.‖

IT IS NOT LAWFUL

On an earlier page we mentioned St. John Baptist.

You remember how he died? He stood before the incestuous Herod and told him in manly and fearless language: ―It is not lawful for thee to have thy brother’s wife.‖ This is surely tactless and disconcert ing more than that, it is the height of bad taste to introduce this discordant note into this very pleasant company and you know that John paid for his outspokenness with his head.

The Church today takes very much the same stand. She is intolerant of smooth-faced and smug hypocrisy and she insists on calling sin by its right name. Here is a Catholic girl who wants to marry a non-Catholic. If the Church consents to consider the question of dispensation at all, she will do so only on her own terms.

Unless the girl abide by these she is cut off forthwith from the Church’s communion. Here is a married man who is unhappy with his wife but considers that all would be well if he could leave her and take this second woman who has captured his affections. ―No, says the Church, ―to do that is a mortal sin. It is forbidden by the laws left in my keeping by Jesus Christ. Therefore for no power on earth can I consent to your state divorce.‖

SIN AND THE SINNER

If this attitude seems cruel remember that the Church is the divinely-constituted custodi an of God’s Law. As such she knows what is according to that Law and what is forbidden. If men laugh at her, she likes to recall that they jeered at Jesus Christ on Calvary. If they try to silence her she is glad to think that they beheaded the Baptist. It is indeed most true that she has all her divine Founder’s love for sinners. She will plead, she will argue, she will threaten-all with the object of saving sinners from sin. Even if they turn a deaf ear to her warnings and fall into the mire, she is the first to step forward and help them to their feet. But while she is full of mercy for the repentant sinner she is inexorable in maintaining her attitude towards his sin. Here she never will compromise for the simple reason that she has not the power to do so.

The Catholic is genuinely sorry for the fallen Catholic, for he knows or can guess at the misery he must feel in his moments of sanity. When he looks up with love in his eyes into the face of his Mother the Church, when he sees the limpid purity of her doctrine, when he tastes the blessed sweetness poured into his soul through her Sacraments, when he has come to respect the divine authority she wields and the sureness and definiteness with which she tells him what is right and what is wrong-how can he feel anything in his heart but an immense gratitude to God for the gift of the true faith? And when he looks the other way and sees the height from which the lapsed Catholic has fallen; when he sees nonCatholics, often excellent men, apparently through no fault of their own deprived of all these blessings; bewildered in the midst of a multiplicity of contradictions; devoid of any authoritative teachers; at this present moment, as would seem, about to lose even the few remnants so far preserved of the doctrine of Christ-can he be cynical or harsh towards these? Rather, does not his heart burn within him with the longing to share with them the priceless gifts so lavishly poured out upon himself?

IS THIS ARROGANCE?

―All we receive in return are the weeds which the Pope throws over his backgarden wall.‖ ‗There is something that would be comical if it were not so tragic, in the lax Catholic or apostate who pretends to take himself seriously. To listen to such a one voicing his opinion and bringing forward his petty arguments, to watch him pitting his intelligence against the most brilliant intellects of all time, to see him expecting men of this type to stand by with hands joined and heads meekly bowed while he moistens his lips and proceeds to expound for their enlightenment his half-baked theories or flimsy objections-this is what you and I call an arrogance and a self-esteem well-nigh insufferable. In saying this we have no quarrel with the sincere man who sees an objection, or a whole host of objections and is really concerned to find the answer. We have rather in mind this selfconstituted court enquiry looking with disdain on the Church’s splendid line of defenders and expecting them, in his august presence, to hold their breath or apologise for their existence.

It is this ridiculous turkey-cock attitude that would provoke our mirth if we did not feel compelled to suspect that the pose is only a cloak to conceal some secret vice. May we hope the wearer has still left in him the decency to be ashamed of what he knows to he hidden underneath?

Yes there are honest enquirers. There are those who through no fault of their own, are tempted against the faith. I knew one grand old man of this type, a priest, and to the end of his long life he never ceased harping on the glory we give to God when we submit to what we cannot understand, because God has revealed it. The truth was that that old man had all his life been struggling against temptations in matters of faith himself, and the temptation had served only to deepen the faith in him. ―There are still unsolved difficulties,‖ writes Mr. Arnold Lunn, ―to which I have yet to find a satisfactory answer, but I have discovered a key which unlocks nine locks out of ten, and it is not the fault of the key but of my wrist that the tenth proves rather sticky.‖

LOSING THE FAITH

No Catholic with temptations or difficulties of this sort need be unduly alarmed, provided he uses the means known to him of safeguarding his treasure. Normally no instructed Catholic loses the faith except through his own fault, and that is why, I suppose, the author quoted a few pages back, says that faith is never lost but ―wilfully bartered away.‖ You will always be able to discover a culpable reason for the lapsed Catholic if he has enough honesty left to admit it. He is careless about his reading or his amusements and he exposes his faith to the dangers of an uncongenial atmosphere. Or, through laziness or human respect, he gives up the practice of his religion and the faith in him dies from sheer lack of nourishment.

Corning back now to our portrait gallery, perhaps you will tell me that you know many excellent men and women, sincere upright Protestants, who never seem to have shown a desire for a place in this gallery nor any qualms of conscience about the truth of their religious beliefs. In other words, that while many have been convinced, many too have lived and died intellectually unconvinced. If the faith is built upon such cogent arguments why do these not satisfy, not some merely, but all honest enquirers?

No. Not all who seek would seem to find. When a man has studied the Catholic Religion, when he has carefully marshalled all the facts, listened to the answers to all his objections, and seen the reasons why Catholics believe, he has not yet received everything necessary for him to take the decisive step. Very often prejudices begotten of education or environment make it morally impossible for him to see the truth without a very special influx of God’s grace. ―You approach the Church in the way of reason‖ wrote Newman ―You enter it in the light of the spirit.‖ Thus he can accept Catholicism only if God, in His mercy, freely enlightens the man’s intellect and moves his will.

Now God is not bound to give this special grace. ―The Spirit breathes where it wills.‖ Consequently if we are pressed further and asked why He gives this to one and withholds it from another, our answer is that that is God’s secret and we must bow with reverence to His ruling. But as apostolically-minded Catholics we can do more. We can go down on our knees and pray for those on the threshold of the Church, and beg that to them the Father of light would give the gift of faith.

THEY TO WHOM IT IS GIVEN

It is also true that ―God wills all men to be saved and to come to the knowledge of the truth,‖ No man of goodwill is lost except through his own fault. He can be invisibly united with Christ by grace and can certainly come to see the face of God in heaven. Of this gift of faith then, we may say what Our Lord said in another context: ―Not all they take this word but they to whom it is given.‖ It has to be ―given‖ freely by God, and if in an individual case it is withheld it is for us to refrain from pryinginto God’s secret designs. ―A saintly life,‖ writes Karl Adam, ―is possible―so Catholics believe- even in definitely non-Catholic communions.

NO SOLID ARGUMENT

More frequently, however, you will find that the man himself is at fault. Submission to the Catholic Church often entails immense sacrifices and violent struggles, and the Catholic can only dimly guess at the anguish they cause. Here is a non-Catholic clergyman who begins to feel uneasy about the logic of his position. But suppose he studies the Catholic claim, and suppose it was found to be true? I can well imagine the torture the mere possibility would give him. He has a wife and family whom he loves much; what is going to become of them, depending as they are on his salary, ‗If he ―goes over toRome‖? Here is a man who for twenty-five years has been hailed as a champion defender of Protestantism and a bigoted opponent of everything Catholic. What a wound it must be to his pride to have to confess before the world that all the time he was quite wrong! We are not for a moment admitting that these excuses are valid. Once a man is convinced, no earthly consideration should be allowed to jeopardise his eternal salvation. Not valid but very human, and they make it easier to understand why a man quails before the decision and keeps putting it off, or perhaps never faces up to it at all.

Here is a passage from a convert which illustrates the agony which conversion often entails: ―In common with so many converts I felt my soul a very battlefield; truth was urging me forward while falsehood was forcing me backward; my conscience was counselling me to seize the substance while my weak nature was all for retaining the shadow; there resulted at this stage of my moral awakening a period of well-nigh intolerable agony. Yet the grace of God, of which I was then quite unaware, gave me a determination to hazard everything for the sake of truth.‖

It is in place here to notice that even Our Lord Himself did not succeed in convincing everybody. You would imagine that the evidence of His stupendous miracles was so overwhelming that it must have broken down the most determined opposition. But actually what happens?

Let one incident from St. John serve as an illustration. Our Lord had just performed the astonishing miracle of raising from the dead Lazarus, who had been four days in the tomb. The evangelist gives a most graphic and detailed account, and then shows us the effect on Christ’s enemies. Did they relent or consider remotely the question of conversion? Not a bit ofit! ―What do we do, for this Man doth many miracles? If we let Him alone all will believe in Him.‖ It is a most glaring instance of the perversity of the human will. Jesus offers His proofs and His arguments, and the Church He founded offers them too, but coerce the free will of man-that is what even God Himself will never do.

A TYPICAL CASE

We can thus build up a very persuasive argument for our faith by reading the history of the converts to the Church. To set forth more fully actual proofs which the Church advances when asked to vindicate her position would take us beyond the limits of this little book. For you will remember our object, stated in the beginning, was not so much to give exhaustive proofs as to open up lines of thought, which, if pursued lead us to a recognition of the common sense of Catholicism. All to the good if we are thus induced to explore farther afield! It may be useful, as an example, showing the solidity of the foundations of our faith, to take one dogma and just indicate the reasons why it is taught in the Church.

As Catholics we believe that Jesus Christ is really, truly, and substantially present in the Blessed Eucharist. Over this dogma the Church stands with all the weight of her divine authority and insists that this, and this only, is the correct interpretation of Our Lord’s words. Why? She takes into her hands the Gospels and begins by proving to you that they are a historically-reliable and divinely-inspired document. This we must take for granted for the moment, not because cogent proofs are wanting, but because we have not space for them. The Gospels, therefore, are to be believed as God’s Word.

REAL PRESENCE

Now what have they to say about the Real Presence? In the sixth chapter of the Gospel according to St. John Our Lord made a statement which astounded His followers. ―The bread that I will give is My flesh for the life of the world. Unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink His blood, you shall not have life in you. . . . My flesh is meat indeed and my blood is drink indeed. He that eateth my flesh and drinketh my blood abideth in Me and I in him.‖

Taking these words in their obvious sense you would say that Our Lord intended them to be understood literally, and for many centuries nobody ever thought of giving them any other interpretation. It is clear, too, that the Jews who first heard them understood them as a promise that He would give them, quite literally, His body to eat and His blood to drink. The idea seemed revolting, this was ―a hard saying‖; on the faith of many of them it was too severe a test, so that ―after that many of His disciples went back and walked no more with Him.‖

Now is it conceivable that Our Lord would have permitted them to turn away from Him thus if they had misunderstood His words? He knew well why they went away; if they are mistaken He will surely call them back and correct their mistake. Actually, what does He do?He turns to His own twelve and puts to them a question: ―Will you also go away?‖ As though He would say: ―It is incumbent upon you, you wish to be My disciples, to accept literally what I have just said. Rather than withdraw My words, I will allow even youto depart.‖

LAST SUPPER

The promise is fulfilled at the Last Supper, the history of which is well known. ―This is My Body; this is My Blood.‖ The apostles who sat listening and watching were simple-minded- men, inclined to take everything they heard in a literal sense. Our Lord had experienced this before now, and more than once He had to correct the wrong impression formed by a literal interpretation of His words. He knew that here also at the Supper Table they would understand Him in the literal sense, but this time He takes no trouble to disabuse them-neither this time, nor after the Resurrection, a course of action on His part that would be utterly unthinkable if they had misunderstood.

Thus carefully does the Church seek in her treasure house and bring forth solid argument for every tenet of her faith. We have, of course, merely indicated the line of reasoning, and concerning only one dogma, but any other truth of our holy faith might be shown to rest on similar reasonable foundations. She tells you with divine authority that you are bound to confess your sins, and that a valid absolution takes them away; but she is also most anxious that you should know why. She forbids divorce, but she does so in no autocratic or arbitrary manner, but only because she knows well the divine authority behind her prohibition.

She preaches the divinity of Christ, the divine maternity and virginity of Mary, the Communion of Saints, the Infallibility of the Pope. In all her teaching you recognise the same ring of conviction. But it is at the same time most true that she is no wild enthusiast carried away by mere emotion. She loves Jesus Christ; indeed, her life is the very prolongation of His life. She burns with the desire that all men should know Him as she knows Him, and in the effort to make Him known and loved she will spend every ounce of her energy. But all this zeal in His cause rests upon the solid and abiding foundation of a faith in His teaching that is pre-eminently reasonable.

THINK IT OUT

If Catholics are apathetic and non-Catholics unconvinced, the blame for this may not be laid at the Church’s door. The main trouble is that we do not think, ―With desolation is the whole land made desolate, because there is no one that thinketh in his heart.‖ ―The Catholic Church cannot be blamed if Catholics have listened with only one ear and Protestants with neither.‖

A wellknown priest and scholar is said to have stated: ―I have studied deeply the different arguments for the divinity of the Church. But the one that appeals most to me personally is the argument from the history of the Church, and it is one that can be used with much forcefulness outside, for it is easily grasped by the layman.‖

Accordingly, as our object is to present just this very kind of argument, let us look at this one which merited such a high encomium from an eminent exponent of Catholic truth.

The Catholic Church will soon be celebrating her two thousandth birthday. If you are pleased to regard her for the moment as a merely human institution, I think you must feel inclined to agree that throughout the long life she has lived she must have accumulated treasures of wisdom which entitle her to a respectful hearing. You tell me you like to give your custom to a firm that is a good while in the business. You have confidence in the specialist who has made a profound study of the particular disease which is threatening you, and who is known to have cured it in other cases. You say that a man who has seen with his own eyes the events he describes can impart to his narrative a living interest which is palpably lacking when he tells you something that he has merely heard from another.

EXPERIENCE TEACHES

Now, apply the same principles to the Church and you will see already a reason for acknowledging Her authority. For two thousand years She has been studying human nature at close range, and for all that time She has been witness of the follies and the miseries of men as well as of their triumphs and their glories. She ought to have something worth saying then, oughtn’t she? Even if she were only a human institution?

But Her age must impress you the more forcibly when you place it side by side with her history. It is nearly two thousand years since she, a tiny frail barque, was launched out on the deep seas. She was the handiwork of a Man Who, you would say, could have little opportunity for learning much about His art. Nearly His whole life was spent in an obscure village, and when at last He did emerge and move about amongst men, He made the disastrous mistake of stirring up against Him the one set of people who could have helped―the men with money and power. Of course the inevitable happened. He died in disgrace and His few followers ran away.

STILL AFLOAT

Wise men now declared that the little craft was certainly doomed. Very soon it would be well and truly submerged beneath the waves of the sea, and the world, as is the world’s way, would presently forget all about it and the Dreamer Who had built it. But lo, after His death it kept still afloat, and today, two thousand years after He has been placed in His grave, it continues to pursue its course with even keel. And such a stormy course! Times there have been when the captain himself of the craft has done everything in his power to run her on to the rocks. Mutinies on board have broken out amongst the crews from whom she expected, and rightly, the most unswerving loyalty. Pirates have pursued and attacked her, fierce storms have lashed against her, for many a dark night she has tossed up and down on the foam. You must surely give her up for lost. But no. She has not foundered. In spite of it all she has managed to keep afloat for two thousand years.

Earth and hell have been in league against her all this time, and have vented their rage in an unbroken series of persecutions. Schism and heresy have invaded her ranks, duped and carried off some of the noblest of her sons, and infected them with the poison of a hatred against her as unnatural as it was saddening to see. Men have slandered her, men have tried to make her look a fool, as did Herod to Jesus. Men have sounded her death knell. But she is living, not dead. She is triumphant still in spite of it all. The late revered Archbishop Goodier S.J. was fond of telling how he once stated in a public lecture that the Church had consistently increased in numbers since her foundation. The statement was challenged by a non-Catholic professor who was present, and the Archbishop challenged him, in turn, to prove the opposite. He tried but had to admit that he was unable.

THE END IS NOT YET

Seventy years ago Garibaldi proclaimed that the Papacy was dead. The Times had an article regretting the passing of a time-honoured institution, and Punch made merry in a cartoon depicting Garibaldi in the act of sweeping the Pope off the map of Italy into the sea, That is seventy years ago, and since then the Church has increased at the rate of about a million a year! And Garibaldi?-Who now remembers the mighty prophet? It is easy enough to imagine how exasperating this state of affairs must be to the enemies of the church. Provoking in the extreme to discover that when they have spared neither trouble nor expense in according the Church a decent burial, presently she stands before them in the vigour and freshness of life, making them cut a ridiculous figure in the sight of all men. A mighty chorus assembled for the funeral, the opening notes of the dirge already sounded, but lo, the coffin is found to be empty, and no one can discover where is the corpse!

Did we say that the little boat has kept afloat? Did we state that the Church was alive merely, as a man might be said to be still living who had fallen victim to a malignant disease? Not so, though even this would be much, considering the history she has behind her. But what are we to think when we learn that not only has she survived, but to look at her today you would say she must be manned by youthful oarsmen, all keen on their work, all agog and fresh and buoyant with youth’s enthusiasm?

STORM AHOY

Today she is running into another storm, perhaps a storm of unprecedented violence, but she faces it with the same serene assurance that has ever characterised her for these two thousand years. Has she the smallest doubt about the ultimate issue of the struggle? Not she. She knows perfectly well that she is certainly going to see communism and modernism in their graves, side by side with nestoranism, and arianism, and the countless other ―isms‖ that have ever sailed out to do battle. Hatred of the world she accepts as an expected part of her destiny. When one gale is over she spreads out her sails again and once more proceeds to plough the deep waters. She has been doing that sort of thing for two thousand years, and she has the calm conviction that she is going to keep on doing it till she sails into port. Two thousand years’ existence would entitle her your respect. But when in addition you remember that that existence has been maintained and even strengthened in spite of all the forces assembled with diabolical ingenuity to crush it; When you look, not at her age merely, but at her history too, perhaps you begin to think that she may have still stronger claims upon your allegiance. An impartial non-Catholic may fairly ask why the Church continues to thrive thus in the teeth of such opposition. ―What sayest thou of thyself?‖ Ask those on board if they have any hypothesis to offer. You know what Is going to be their answer. No merely human institution could possibly have survived a fraction of all this. Still less could a human institution have flourished in such circumstances. Humanly speaking she should long since have perished, but the plain fact is that she cannot die because she has within her the seed of a life that is divine, Try as men will, they can never eradicate that seed. History should long since have taught them that in attacking her they are pitting their frail strength against the might and the power and the very life of God Himself. Against her the gates of hell will never prevail. This is the promise of the Son of God, and two thousand years of history are behind the Church to prove the fidelity of Christ to His promise.

SCANDALS IN THE CHURCH

A few pages backwe quoted from Father Brodrick’s monumental work on St. Peter Canisius. Another reference to it may serve as introduction to a new section of our booklet. The saint’s letters are full of stories about the ravages heresy had wrought and they abound in truly saddening tales about an illiterate and immoral clergy and about the ignorance of nominal Catholics on even the fundamentals of their faith. Father Brodrick’s pages bring us close up to the question of scandals in the Church. ―It must needs be that scandals come‖ said Our Lord, and it is clear after reading Father Brodrick that the sixteenth century was not behind in contributing its quota. Reformation was sorely needed, for laxity and scandals were the order of the day. But the self constituted ―Reformers‖ were not the men to reform, and moreover, they set about ―reforming‖ the wrong thing. It was not the faith that needed reformation; it was morals.

Scandals in the Church grieve the Catholic, but they do not surprise him. As long as we are in the body we are subject to temptation. Greed of gold, love of power and adulation, the spirit of lust-all that is included in the triple concupiscence-these war against man in a fierce and determined effort to drag him down. So I am not surprised that there have been worldly popes and princes in the Church. I am prepared to admit, as matter of history, distressing stories of even men and women whose position in the Church would justify my expectations that they at least should be above reproach. The Catholic family is not a museum exhibit of saints, but a human family in which saints, publicans and sinners all feed from the same table.‖

A SENSE OF PROPORTION

But why not get things in proportion? To hear how some of our critics exploit the few unworthy Popes one would be inclined to forget that of the 264 successors of St Peter, eighty-three have been canonised for heroic virtue, and over fifty were chosen for the high office in spite of their own vigorous protests. To listen to some men criticising the clergy you would receive the impression that priests were a lot of money-grabbers who make use of religion as a man might use a shovel-to pack treasure into their coffers. If you are prepared to generalise from these exceptions, is it not at least as fair to generalise from the vast majority whose lives are above reproach?

If you are going to tar the whole line of the Popes with the same brush, why select Alexander VI rather than Gregory VII, or, say, Pius X? If you are going to sit in judgment on the clergy, why not make your standard Vincent de Paul, or the Cure of Ars, or Alphonsus Liguori? Admittedly, by no means will every priest measure up to that standard, but one can assert with confidence that that standard will prove to be the more representative of the general body of the priesthood.

Is your critic to ignore the vast array of saints that shine in the Church’s crown? Is he going to shut his eyes to the tr uth that, if there are thorns in that crown, there are gems, too?

But I mustn’t forget that criticism of Catholics is often a subtle compliment. The fact that a Catholic sins flagrantly is matter for condemnation. Why, except that his critic tacitly admits that he ought to be better?

In another such a crime might be condoned-but in a Catholic. . . . . . And the innuendo is a tribute to the high standards normal amongst Catholics.

TO THE HEIGHTS!

Human nature is sick, grievously so, as a result of the fall.—Therefore, sin, even in high places, does not surprise any reasonable man. But what does fill him with amazement is the heights of holiness scaled by so many of the sons and daughters of the Church. He stands astonished when he sees how they succeed in overcoming their natural sinful tendencies, in living in the flesh a life that bids fair to rival the purity of the angels. It is this that surprises, and it is this that proves conclusively that these men and women were supported by a force stronger than human clay.

―It must needs be that scandals come.‖ Why? over and above our innate sinfulness there is the world’s care to exploit this tendency. The Church, seated in the midst of enemies, is open to attack on every side. Often her children hear arguments brought up against her, and often they do not know the answer, and they are led to think, that in point of fact there is no answer. Or they see her teaching ignored or laughed at and the cankerworm of human respect eats into their practice of the faith. Or they find her too rigid. Other religions are so free and easy, so accommodating. (Not so long ago an eminent nonCatholic clergyman made the noble boast that his views were as broad as O’Connell-street! Happy man, happy phrase, and what soul-satisfying pasture must such a pastor provide for his flock!)

Well, the Catholic discovers that his religion has her anathemas. Outside the Church you can believe and act more or less as you wish, and provided you preserve a modicum of external respectability, nobody is going to worry you. But a Catholic cannot get away with that sort of thing. His morals must be consistent with his beliefs.

LETTING YOUR LIGHT SHINE

We must not end before indicating what is in many ways the most effective defence of our faith. ―Let your light shine before men that they may see your good works and glorify your Father Who is in heaven.‖ We have seen something of the calamitous results to the Church of bad example on the part of her children. But it is not the less true that the good example of every individual Catholic forms a stone in the building which will make for the strength and the beauty of the entire edifice. ―If all Catholics are like that . . . ‖ So men will argue, illogically, no doubt, but we have to face facts as we find them. ―If all Catholics are like that‖-it can be a glowing tribute or a scathing jibe.

Nihil Obstat:

WILLIAM M. COLLINS. D,D. Diocesan Censor.

Imprimatur:

@ DANIEL MANNIX,

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis

********

Passiontide Prayer Book

INDEX

LITANY OF OUR LADY OF SEVEN SORROWS

BY POPE PIUS VII

Lord, have mercy on us. Christ, have mercy on us. Lord, have mercy on us. Christ, hear us.

Christ, graciously hear us.

God, the Father of heaven,

God the Son, Redeemer of the world, God the Holy Ghost,

Holy Mary, Mother of God,

Holy Virgin of virgins,

Mother of the Crucified,

Sorrowful Mother,

Mournful Mother,

Sighing Mother,

Afflicted Mother,

Forsaken Mother,

Desolate Mother,

Mother most sad,

Mother set around with anguish, Mother overwhelmed by grief,

Mother transfixed by a sword,

Mother crucified in thy heart,

Mother bereaved of thy Son,

Sighing Dove,

Mother of Dolours,

Fount of tears,

Sea of bitterness,

Field of tribulation,

Mass of suffering,

Mirror of patience,

Rock of constancy,

Remedy in perplexity,

Joy of the afflicted,

Ark of the desolate,

Refuge of the abandoned,

Shield of the oppressed,

Conqueror of the incredulous,

Solace of the wretched,

Medicine of the sick,

Help of the faint,

Strength of the weak,

Protectress of those who fight,

Haven of the shipwrecked,

Have mercy on us. Have mercy on us. Have mercy on us. pray for us. pray for us. pray for us. pray for us. pray for us. pray for us. pray for us. pray for us. pray for us. pray for us. pray for us. pray for us. pray for us. pray for us. pray for us. pray for us. pray for us. pray for us. pray for us. pray for us. pray for us. pray for us. pray for us. pray for us. pray for us. pray for us. pray for us. pray for us. pray for us. pray for us. pray for us. pray for us. pray for us. pray for us. pray for us.

Calmer of tempests,

Companion of the sorrowful,

Retreat of those who groan,

Terror of the treacherous,

Standard-bearer of the Martyrs, Treasure of the Faithful,

Light of Confessors,

Pearl of Virgins,

Comfort of Widows,

Joy of all Saints,

Queen of thy Servants,

Holy Mary, who alone art unexampled, pray for us. pray for us. pray for us. pray for us. pray for us. pray for us. pray for us. pray for us. pray for us. pray for us. pray for us. pray for us.

Pray for us, most Sorrowful Virgin, That we may be made worthy of the promises of Christ.

Let us pray,—O God, in whose Passion, according to the prophecy of Simeon, a sword of grief pierced through the most sweet soul of Thy glorious Blessed Virgin Mother Mary: grant that we, who celebrate the memory of her Seven Sorrows, may obtain the happy effect of Thy Passion, Who lives and reigns world without end, AMEN.

THE SEVEN SORROWS OF OUR LADY

1. The Prophecy of Simeon

2. The Flight into Egypt

3. The Loss of Jesus in the Temple

4. Mary meets Jesus Carrying the Cross

5. The Crucifixion

6. Mary Receives the Dead Body of Her Son.

7. The Burial of Her Son and Closing of the Tomb.

CONSECRATION TO OUR LADY OF SORROWS

Most holy Virgin and Queen of Martyrs, Mary, would that I could be in Heaven, there to contemplate the honours rendered to thee by the Most Holy Trinity and by the whole Heavenly Court! But since I am still a pilgrim in this vale of tears, receive from me, thy unworthy servant and a poor sinner, the most sincere homage and the most perfect act of vassalage a human creature can offer thee. In thy Immaculate Heart, pierced with so many swords of sorrow, I place today my poor soul forever; receive me as a partaker in thy dolours, and never suffer that I should depart from that Cross on which thy only begotten Son expired for me. With thee, O Mary, I will endure all the sufferings, contradictions, infirmities, with which it will please thy Divine Son to visit me in this life. All of them I offer to thee, in memory of the dolours which thou didst suffer during thy life, that every thought of my mind, every beating of my heart may henceforward be an act of compassion to thy Sorrows, and of complacency for the glory thou now enjoyest in Heaven. Since then, O Dear Mother, I now compassionate thy dolours, and rejoice in seeing thee glorified, do thou also have compassion on me, and reconcile me to thy Son Jesus, that I may become thy true and loyal son (daughter); come on my last day and assist me in my last agony, even as thou wert present at the Agony of thy Divine Son Jesus, that from this painful exile I may go to Heaven, there to be made partaker of thy glory. AMEN.

THE WOUND IN THE SHOULDER

It is related in the annals of Clairvaux that St. Bernard asked Our Lord which was His greatest unrecorded suffering and that Our Lord answered, “I had on my shoulder while I bore My cross on the Way of Sorrows a grievous wound which was more painful than the others which is not recorded by men. Honour this wound with devotion, and I will grant thee whatsoever thou dost ask through its virtue and merit, and in return to all who venerate this wound I will remit to them all their venial sins and will no longer remember their mortal sins.

O most loving Jesus, meek lamb of God, I a miserable sinner, salute and worship the most sacred wound of Thy shoulder. Alone thou didst bear Thy heavy cross which so tore Thy flesh and laid bare Thy bones as to inflict on Thee an anguish greater than any other wound on Thy Blessed Body. I adore Thee, O Jesus, Most Sorrowful, I praise and glorify Thee and give Thee thanks for this most secret painful wound, beseeching Thee by the merit and pain of Thy heavy cross to be merciful to me a sinner and to forgive me my mortal and venial sins and to lead me on towards heaven along the Way of the Cross. Amen

PRAYER TO THE SACRED MEMBERS OF JESUS HANGING ON THE CROSS

Ascribed to St. Bernard

PART I: TO THE FEET

O Saviour of the world, I cry to Thee; O Saviour, suffering God, I worship Thee; O wounded beauteous Love, I kneel to Thee; Thou knowest, Lord, how I would follow Thee, If of Thyself Thou give Thyself to Me.

II

Thy Presence I Believe; O come to me! Behold me prostrate, Jesus; look on me!

How beautiful Thou art! O turn to me! O in Thy tender mercy turn to me, And let Thy untold pity pardon me!

III

With trembling love and feat I worship Thee; I kiss the grievous nails which entered Thee,

And think on those dire wounds which tortured Thee, And, grieving, lift my weeping eyes to Thee, Transfixed and dying all for love of me!

IV

O wondrous grace! O gracious charity! O love of sinners in such agony! Sweet Father of the poor! O who can be Unmoved to witness this great mystery,-The Healer smitten, hanging on a tree?

V

O gentle Jesus, turn Thee unto me; What I have broken do Thou bind in me, And what is crooked make Thou straight in me; What I have lost restore Thou unto me, And what is weak and sickly heal in me.

VI

O Love! with all my strength I seek for Thee; Upon and in thy Cross I look for Thee; With sorrow and with hope I turn to Thee,-That through Thy Blood new health may come to me, That washed therein Thy love may pardon me. VII

O take my heart, Thou Loved One; let it be Transfixed with those dear wounds for love of Thee, O wound it, Jesus, with pure love of Thee; And let it so be crucified with Thee, that it may be forever joined to Thee.

VIII

Sweet Jesus, loving God, I cry to Thee; Thou guilty, yet I come for love of Thee; O show Thyself, dear Saviour, kind to me! Unworthy as I am, O turn to me, Nor at thy sacred Feet abandon me!

IX

Dear Jesus, bathed in tears, I kneel to Thee; In shame and grief I lift my eyes to Thee; Prostrate before Thy Cross I bow to Thee, And thy dear Feet embrace; O look on me, Yea, from Thy Cross, O look, and pardon me.

X

O my Beloved, stretched against that Thee, Whose arms divine are now enfolding me, whose gracious Heart is now upholding me,-O my Beloved, let me wholly be

Transformed, forgiven, one alone with Thee!

PART II: TO THE KNEES

I

O Jesus, King of Saints, I worship Thee; O hope of sinners, hail! I rest on Thee; True God, true man, Thou hangest on the Tree Transfixed, with quivering flesh and shaking knees, A criminal esteemed,—I worship Thee.

II

Alas, how poor, how naked, wilt Thou be! How hast Thou stript Thyself for love of me, How made Thyself a gazing-stock to be! Not forced, but, O my God! How willingly In all Thy limbs Thou sufferest on that Tree!

III

Thy Precious Blood wells forth abundantly From all Thy open wounds incessantly; All bathed therein, O God, in agony Thou standest on the Cross of infamy, Awaiting the appointed hour to die.

IV

O infinite, O wondrous majesty! O terrible, unheard-of poverty! Ah, who, returning so great charity, I willing, Jesus, thus to give for Thee His blood for Thine, in faithful love for Thee?

V

O Jesus, how shall I, then, answer Thee, Who am so vile, and have not followed Thee? Or how repay the love that loveth me With such sublime, such awful charity Transfixed, from double death to set me free?

VI

O Jesus, what Thy love hath been for me! O Jesus, death could never conquer Thee!

Ah, with what loving care Thou keepest me Enfolded in Thine arms, lest I should be,

By death of sin, a moment torn from Thee!

VII

Behold, O Jesus, how for love of Thee, With all my soul I trembling cling to Thee, And Thy dear Knees embrace. O pity me! Thou knowest why-in pity bear with me, And overlook the shame that covers me! VIII

O let the Blood I worship flow on me, That what I do may never anger Thee; The Blood which flows at every pore from Thee Each imperfection may it wash from me, That I may undefiled and perfect be.

IX

O force me, best Beloved, to draw to Thee, Transfixed and bleeding on the shameful Tree, Despised and stretched in dying agony! All my desire, O Lord, is fixed on Thee; O call me, then, and I will follow Thee.

X

I have no other love, dear Lord, but Thee; Thou art my first and last; I cling to Thee.

It is no labour, Lord; love sets me free; Then heal me, cleanse me, let me rest on Thee, For love is life, and life is love-in Thee.

PART III: TO THE HANDS I

Hail, holy Shepherd! Lord, I worship Thee, Fatigued with combat, steeped in misery; Whose sacred Hands, outstretched in agony, All pierced and dislocated on the Tree, Are fastened to the wood of infamy.

II

Dear holy Hands, I humbly worship ye, With roses filled, fresh blossoms of that Tree; The cruel iron enters into ye,

While open gashes yield unceasingly The Precious stream down-dropping from the Tree.

III

Behold, Thy Blood, O Jesus, flows on me- The price of my salvation falls on me; O ruddy as the rose, it drops on me. Sweet Precious Blood, it wells abundantly From both Thy sacred Hands to set me free.

IV

My heart leaps up, O Jesus, unto Thee; Drawn by those nail-pierced Hands it flies to Thee; Drawn by those Blood-stained Hands stretched out for me, My soul breaks out with sighing unto Thee, And longs to slake its thirst, O Love, in Thee.

V

My God, what great stupendous charity- Both good and bad are welcomed here by Thee! The slothful heart Thou drawest graciously, The loving one Thou callest tenderly, And unto all a pardon grantest free.

VI

Behold, I now present myself to Thee, Who dost present thy bleeding Hands to me; The sick Thou healest when they come to Thee; Thou canst not, therefore, turn away from me, Whose love Thou knowest, Lord, is all for Thee.

VII

O my Beloved, fastened to the Tree, Draw, by Thy love, my senses unto Thee; My will, my intellect, my memory, And all I am, make subject unto Thee, In whose dear arms alone is liberty.

VIII

O draw me for Thy Cross’ sake to Thee; O draw me for Thy so wide charity; Sweet Jesus, draw my heart in truth to Thee, O put an end to all my misery, And crown me with Thy Cross and victory!

IX

O Jesus, place Thy sacred Hands on me, With transport let me kiss them tenderly,

With groans and tears embrace them fervently; And, O for these deep wounds I worship Thee; And for the blessed drops that fall on me!

X

O dearest Jesus, I commend to Thee Myself, and all I am, most perfectly;

Bathed in Thy Blood, behold, I live for Thee; O, may Thy blessed Hands encompass me, And in extremity deliver me!

PART IV: TO THE SIDE I

O Jesus, highest Good, I yearn for Thee; O Jesus, merciful, I hope in Thee, Whose sacred Body hands upon the Tree, Whose limbs, all dislocated painfully, Are stretched in torture, all for love of me!

II

Hail, sacred Side of Jesus! Verily The hidden spring of mercy lies in Thee, The source of honeyed sweetness dwells in Thee, The fountain of redemption flows from Thee, The secret well of love that cleanses me.

III

Behold, O King of Love, I draw to Thee; If I am wrong, O Jesus, pardon me; Thy love, Beloved, calls me lovingly, As I with blushing cheek gaze willingly Upon the living wound that bleeds for me.

IV

O gentle opening, I worship Thee; O open door and deep, I look in Thee; O most pure stream, I gaze and gaze on Thee: More ruddy than the rose, I draw to Thee; More healing than all health, I fly to Thee.

V

More sweet than wine Thine odour is for me; The poisoned breath of sin it drives from me; Thou art the draught of life poured out for me. O ye who thirst, come, drink thereof with me;

And Thou, sweet wound, O open unto me.

VI

O red wound open, let me draw to Thee, And let my throbbing heart be filled from Thee! Ah, see! My heart, Beloved, faints for Thee. O my Beloved, open unto me, That I may pass and lose myself in Thee.

VII

Lord, with my mouth I touch and worship Thee, With all the strength I have I cling to Thee, With all my love I plunge my heart in Thee, My very life-blood would I drawn from Thee,-O Jesus, Jesus! Draw me into Thee!

VIII

How Sweet Thy savour is! Who tastes of Thee, O Jesus Christ, can relish naught but Thee; Who tastes Thy living sweetness lives by Thee; All else is void-the soul must die for Thee; So faints my heart,—so would I die for thee. IX

I languish, Lord! O let me hide in Thee! In Thy sweet Side, my Love, O bury me! And may the fire divine consuming Thee Burn in my heart where it lies hid in Thee, Without a fear reposing peacefully!

X

When in the hour of death Thou callest me, O Love of loves, may my soul enter Thee; May my last breath, O Jesus fly to Thee; So no fierce beast may drive my heart from Thee, But in Thy Side may it remain with Thee!

PART V: TO THE BREAST I

O God of my salvation, hail to Thee! O Jesus, sweetest Love, all hail to Thee! O venerable Breast, I worship Thee; O dwelling-place of love, I fly to Thee, With trembling touch adore and worship Thee.

II

Hail, throne of the Most Holy Trinity! Hail, ark immense of tender charity! Thou stay of weakness and infirmity, Sweet rest of weary souls who rest on Thee, Dear couch of loving ones who lean on Thee!

III

With reverence, O Love, I kneel to Thee, O worthy to be ever sought by me; Behold me, Jesus, looking unto Thee. O, set my heart on fire, dear Love, from Thee, And burn it in the flame that burns in Thee.

IV

O make my breast a precious home for thee, A furnace of sweet love and purity, A well of holy grief and piety; Deny my will, conform it unto Thee, That grace abundant may be mine in Thee.

V

Sweet Jesus, loving Shepherd, come to me; Dear Son of God and Mary, come to me; Kind Father come, let Thy Heart pity me, And cleanse the fountain of my misery In that great fountain of Thy clemency.

VI

Hail, fruitful splendour of the Deity! Hail, fruitful figure of Divinity! From the full treasure of Thy charity, O pour some gift in Thy benignity Upon the desolate who cry to Thee!

VII

Dear Breast of most sweet Jesus, mine would be All Thine in its entire conformity; Absolve it from all sin, and set it free, That it may burn with ardent charity, And never, never cease to think on Thee.

VIII

Abyss of wisdom from eternity, The harmonies of angels worship Thee; Entrancing sweetness flows, O Breast, from thee; John tasted it as he lay rapt on Thee; O grant me thus that I may dwell in Thee!

IX

Hail, fountain deep of God’s benignity! The fullness of the immense Divinity Hath found at last a creature home in Thee. Ah, may the counsel that I learn from Thee All imperfection purify in me! X

True temple of the Godhead, hail to Thee! O draw me in Thy gracious charity, Thou ark of goodness, full of grace for me. Great God of all, have mercy upon me, And on Thy right hand keep a place for me.

PART VI: TO THE FACE

I

Hail, bleeding Head of Jesus, hail to Thee! Thou thorn-crowned Head, I humbly worship Thee! O wounded Head, I lift my hands to Thee; O lovely Face besmeared, I gaze on Thee; O bruised and livid Face, look down on me!

II

Hail, beauteous Face of Jesus, bent on me, Whom angel choirs adore exultantly! Hail, sweetest Face of Jesus, bruised for me- Hail, Holy One, whose glorious Face for me Is shorn of beauty on that fatal Tree!

III

All strength, all freshness, is gone forth from Thee: What wonder! Hath not God afflicted Thee, And is not death himself approaching Thee?

O Love! But death hath laid his touch on Thee, And faint and broken features turn to me.

IV

O have they thus maltreated Thee, my own? O have they Thy sweet Face despised, my own? And all for my unworthy sake, my own! O in Thy beauty turn to me, my own; O turn one look of love on me, my own!

V

In this Thy Passion, Lord, remember me; In this Thy pain, O Love, acknowledge me; The honey of whose lips was shed on me, The milk of whose delights hath strengthened me Whose sweetness is beyond delight for me!

VI

Despise me not, O Love; I long for Thee; Contemn me not, unworthy though I be;

But now that death is fast approaching Thee, Incline Thy Head, my Love, my Love, to me, To these poor arms, and let it rest on me!

VII

The holy Passion I would share with Thee, And in Thy dying love rejoice with Thee;

Content if by this Cross I die with Thee; Content, Thou knowest, Lord, how willingly Where I have lived to die for love of Thee.

VIII

For this Thy bitter death all thanks to Thee, Dear Jesus, and Thy wondrous love for me!

O gracious God, so merciful to me, Do as Thy guilty one entreateth Thee, And at the end let me be found with Thee!

IX

When from this life, O Love, Thou callest me, Then, Jesus, be not wanting unto me, But in the dreadful hour of agony, O hasten, Lord, and be Thou nigh to me, Defend, protect, and O deliver me.

X

When Thou, O God, shalt bid my soul be free, Then, dearest Jesus, show Thyself to me! O condescend to show Thyself to me,-Upon Thy saving Cross, dear Lord, to me,-And let me die, my Lord, embracing Thee!

PART VII: TO THE SACRED HEART I

Hail, sacred Heart of God’s great Majesty! Hail, sweetest Heart, my heart saluteth Thee!

With great desire, O Heart, I seek for Thee,

And faint for joy, O Heart, embracing Thee; Then give me leave, O Love, to speak to Thee.

II

With what sweet love Thou languishest for me! What pain and torment was that love to Thee! How didst Thou all Thyself exhaust for me! How hast Thou wholly given Thyself to me, That death no longer might have hold of me!

III

O bitter death and cruel! Can it be Thou darest so to enter greedily Into that cell divine? O can it be The Life of life, that lives there gloriously, Should feel thy bite, O death, and yield to thee?

IV

For Thy death’s sake which Thou didst bear for me, When Thou, O sweetest Heart, didst faint for me, O Heart most precious in its agony, See how I yearn, and longing turn to Thee! Yield to my love, and draw me unto Thee!

V

O sacred Heart, beloved most tenderly, Cleanse Thou my own; more worthy let it be, All hardened as it is with vanity; O make it tender, loving, fearing Thee, And all its icy coldness drive from me.

VI

O sinner as I am, I come to Thee; My very vitals throb and call for Thee; O Love, sweet love, draw hither unto me! O Heart of Love, my heart would ravished be, And sicken with the wound of love for Thee!

VII

Dilate and open, Heart of love, for me, And like a rose of wondrous fragrance be, Sweet Heart of love, united unto me; Anoint and pierce my heart, O Love, with Thee, How can he suffer, Lord, who loveth Thee?

VIII

O Heart of Love, who vanquished is by Thee Knows nothing, but beside himself must be;

NO BOUNDS ARE SET TO THAT SWEET LIBERTY, NO MODERATION,—HE MUST FLY TO THEE, OR DIE HE MUST OF MANY DEATHS FOR THEE. IX

My living heart, O Love, cries out for Thee; With all its strength, O Love, my soul loves Thee; O Heart of Love, incline Thou unto me, That I with burning love may turn to Thee, And with devoted breast recline on Thee!

X

In that sweet furnace let me live for Thee, Nor let the sleep of sloth encumber me; O let me sing to Thee and weep to Thee, Adore, and magnify, and honour Thee, And always take my full delight in Thee.

XI

Thou Rose of wondrous fragrance, open wide, And bring my heart into Thy wounded Side, O sweet heart, open! Draw Thy loving bride, All panting with desires intensified, And satisfy her love unsatisfied.

XII

Unite my heart, O Jesus, unto Thine, And let Thy wounded love be found in mine. Ah, if my heart, dear love, be made like Thine O will it not be pierced with darts divine, the sweet reproach of love that thrills through Thine?

XIII

O Jesus, draw my heart within Thy Breast, That it may be by Thee alone possessed. O Love, in that sweet pain it would find rest, In that entrancing sorrow would be blest, And love itself in joy upon Thy Breast.

XIV

Behold, O Jesus, how it draws to Thee! O call it, that it may remain in Thee! See with what large desire it thirsts for Thee! Reprove it not, O Love; it loves but Thee: Then bid it live-by one sweet taste of Thee!

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Patience

MEDITATIONS FOR A MONTH

BY RICHARD F. CLARKE S.J

INDEX

The Divine Patience

1. When we speak of the patience of God we use the word in rather a different meaning to that in which it is applied to men. It means that God abstains from inflicting on the sinner the punishment that he deserves, that He is long-suffering, that He waits to see if he will perchance repent and turn to Him, that He is slow to anger and of great mercy. O my God, how patient Thou hast been with me when I rebelled against Thee! How Thou hast borne with all my ingratitude and sinfulness and stubbornness and disobedience!

2. Holy Scripture contains many examples of the patience of God. When the human family had become so wicked that God determined to destroy them by the Flood, He waited a hundred years before carrying out the sentence. When the cry of the Cities of the Plain rose up before Him, He waited before He determined to destroy them. When Saul forfeited his kingdom by his disobedience, God waited for ten years before He carried out the sentence. Learn from God’s example to be patient with evil-doers and to love mercy rather than vengeance.

3. God never acts in a hurry, and He thereby desires to teach us deliberation in all that we do. We do not leave an interval of time as He does between the wrong and the infliction of the punishment. We are so impulsive that we commit many faults that we might easily have avoided if we had learned to wait. What need was there for the delay that we find attributed to God? He, as perfect wisdom, needs no time for deliberation. But it is that we may recognize the necessity of being slow to act, and especially of being slow to act, in anger, that God represents Himself as always waiting.

On Various Trials of our Patience

1. Patience is tried by everything that puts an obstacle in the way of our action; by being kept waiting long; by having to repeat, over and over again, some lesson to a dull learner; by the perverse and wayward conduct of the young; by being interrupted while speaking when we have something we want to say; by a hundred similar incidents which continually occur. All these are a good test of our possession of this virtue. How do I stand the test in each case? 2. Our patience is also tried by those who misunderstand and misrepresent us. It is not easy to speak and think kindly of them. We are inclined either to avoid them or to show our dislike to them. We want to let them know what we think of them, and to give them a return blow for the blows we believe them to have given us. But patience bids us take the offence, real or supposed, quietly and without complaining; it checks the angry word and quenches the fire of resentment. Here, too, I have an excellent means of gauging my possession of this virtue.

3. Patience is also tried by poverty, sickness, desolation, loneliness, by uncongenial surroundings and employments which are not to our taste. We all have to suffer one or other of these painful circumstances of human existence. He who has the virtue of patience will bow his head and accept with ready acquiescence the trials that come to him. He will find plenty of good reasons why they have happened to him, and so far from regretting them or repining under them, he will say with the Psalmist: “The Lord will not cast off for ever. If He cast off, He will also have mercy according to the multitude of His mercies.” (Lament. 3: 31, 32).

The Mystery of Suffering

1. Those who look upon the world without taking into account the nature of sin, the meaning of a state of probation, and the rewards and punishments of the life to come, are puzzled by the sufferings that seem everywhere to abound. Why has a merciful God created us to suffer? Why is it that the innocent have to suffer one day while the guilty seem to prosper? Why is it that the most virtuous often have the hardest lot and the bitterest trials? Suffering is indeed a mystery. 2. Friendship with God generally entails suffering. How many a man hitherto prosperous falls into every kind of misfortune when he turns to God! It seems as if a high degree of virtue brought misery, not happiness. Dives surrounded with every luxury and Lazarus covered with ulcers lying half-starved at his gate; Annas triumphant and Jesus crucified; Herod feasting and John butchered in his prison cell; the Roman Emperor in all the pride of empire and the friends of God torn by wild beasts, what an apparent anomaly! On a small scale there is the same anomaly in my life and in the little world in which I live. I am inclined to find fault with God’s arrangements. Oh how foolishly!

3. Does God repay good with evil by sending suffering to those He loves? They themselves do not think so, and they are the best judges. They rather like sufferings. How can this be? Suffering in itself is the reverse of pleasant. But in its effects how wonderful! In its power to counteract evil how effectual! As a mark of God’s favour how valuable! In its promise for the future how replete with blessings! It may be said to contain within itself all sweetness, not in the present but in the future. This is the view I must take of suffering.

The Solution of the Mystery of Suffering

1. At the beginning there was no suffering. It was not until the angels rebelled that pain and suffering made their appearance in God’s universe. Suffering is the necessary expiation of the outrage offered to the majesty of God by His creatures. It is a fulfilment of the eternal law that he who sins must suffer. It is the complement and effect of sin. It is the carrying out of the law of retribution. What else are my sufferings but the just punishment for my sins? 2. But suffering is a great deal more than this. It is the remedy for the disease of sin, the kindly knife that hurts but cures. What a change suffering makes in men. See Nabuchodonosor before he suffered, proud and lifted up, and afterwards humble and submissive. (Daniel 4 : 27.) See the prodigal son led by suffering to return to his father’s house. See even the wicked Achab humbled by suffering. (3 Kings 21 : 27.) “It is good, O Lord,” says David, “that Thou hast afflicted me. Before I was troubled I went wrong, butnow I have kept Thy word.” Chastisement yields to those who are exercised by it the peaceable fruit of justice. (Hebrews 12 : I1.) It purifies the soul, and almost forces men to humility and submission. Has it had this effect with me? If it has, I will thank God.

3. Suffering is the payment for joy to come. The willing acceptance of it is the surest road to a high place in Heaven. We can earn more grace for ourselves and for others by the patient endurance of suffering than by the most active zeal; it is a safer as well as a surer means of glorifying God, for we cannot well be proud of our sufferings as we may be of our actions. Thus it is one of the best gifts that God can give us. I therefore must be willing to pay the price if I desire to win the reward.

The Praises of Patience

1. Patience is a virtue which receives in Holy Scripture, and especially in the writings of St Paul, praise almost without end. “He that is patient,” says the Wise Man, “is governed with much wisdom.” (Prov. 14 : 29.) “Patience has a perfect work,” says St James (ch. 1 : 4). “Patience is necessary to you,” says St Paul, “that doing the will of God you may receive the promise.” (Hebrews 10 : 36.) Think over these passages one by one, and question yourself whether you fulfil this necessary condition of eternal salvation.

2. Our Blessed Lord has Himself a special benediction for patience. “In your patience,” He says, “you shall possess your souls.” (St Luke 2 : 19.) That is, by patience we shall save our souls. What higher praise could our Lord bestow upon patience than this? If it is to be the instrument of salvation, it is an inestimable treasure. Instead of dreading it, we ought to court it and welcome every occasion for its exercise. Every act of patience brings us nearer to Heaven, and the test of our fitness for the Kingdom of God is, have we learned to suffer with perfect patience?

3. St John does but echo the words of his Divine Master when he says (Apoc. 7 : 14) of the redeemed around the throne, “These are they who came out of great tribulation.” Not that the mere passing through suffering is sufficient, for he adds :”And have washed their robes and made them white in the Blood of the Lamb,” that is, have obtained forgiveness by uniting their sufferings with the sufferings of the Son of God. Do I find in myself this description realized? Have I suffered and suffered willingly for Christ’s sake? Or do I seek to avoid all suffering and fight against it, and bear it impatiently when it comes?

First Degree of Patience

1. When we are studying to acquire a virtue, it is generally the better plan to begin with external actions, and thence to proceed to the interior dispositions whence those actions proceed. In accordance with this rule, we must begin by repressing all signs of resentment and anger when we are offended, or when someone crosses our path, or hinders some work in which we are engaged. If under all this we can keep an unmoved and tranquil countenance, and avoid all expression of personal feeling and annoyance, this is a great point gained. Am I able to do this?

2. Why is it important to begin with exterior patience? First, because this helps enormously to calm the feelings within us just as we can work ourselves up into a fury by raging externally. Peace will soon return if we keep a serene face and quiet demeanour. Secondly, because exterior calmness under ill-usage edifies others and honours Christ our Lord, just as impatience and irritability disedify and dishonour the name of Christian. I must remember this when I am tempted to yield to my injured pride, and to retaliate on those who have offended me.

3. Our Lord Himself points out exterior patience as the very first thing in which we should imitate Him, for He says: “Learn of Me, for I am meek and humble of heart.” Meekness is but patience in its exterior manifestation. If I am sincere in my wish to follow in the footsteps of Christ my Lord, here is the best point with which to begin. I must for His sake and for love of Him be more gentle to those who give me pain, more tranquil under words and actions that wound or hurt me.

The Second Degree of Patience

1. The repression of external signs of impatience has no value in God’s sight except in so far as it is a step to the interior virtue. The soldier, the courtier, the servant, suppresses the exterior marks of impatience from fear of punishment and hope of reward. The Christian must do more than this; he must have within him the motive of imitating the patience of Jesus Christ. Smoke is the sign of fire within, but the smoke will not warm the house unless there is the fire on the hearth; so external patience will not please God unless there is also the motive of patience within the soul. Am I striving after the interior virtue? Have I even succeeded in repressing the exterior impatience for Christ’s sake? 2. When some unkindness or injury is done us, there arises in us a double feeling. We feel pained and hurt; in this there is no sort of sin. But we are also conscious of another feeling; a desire to retaliate, a wish to see some retribution befall the offender. We are bitter towards them, we are tempted to indulge ourselves in an animosity that approaches sometimes even to hatred. This is what has to be expelled from our souls if we are to resemble Him who was meek and humble of heart.

3. What must we do to rid ourselves of this bitterness? Dislike may remain in spite of all our efforts; this we cannot help. But we must resolve that no unkind wish towards the offender shall be indulged. Then we must set to work to pray for calmness and a spirit of forgiveness, then we must think of all we deserve for our offences against God, and must say from our heart: “Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive them that trespass against us.” Last of all, we must pray for the offender.

The Third Degree of Patience

1. When we have succeeded in suppressing all outward impatience and inward resentment as far as it is voluntary and deliberate, we shall begin to reap the reward of our efforts. We shall find that the treatment which we once regarded as intolerable has certain advantages resulting from it. We may hope at last to find a positive pleasure in being overlooked or unfairly treated, in being humbled in the eyes of men, or blamed for what we did with all good intention. I must try to aim at this. It is not out of my reach.

2. How am I to gain this willingness to be misunderstood and harshly judged, this desire for rebuffs and disappointments? I must bring my common sense to bear on them. I must keep before myself how useful, how necessary for the beating down of pride. They are a most effectual means of making satisfaction for sin, if I offer them up to God in the name of Jesus Christ. When I remember all this, I ought to be quite anxious for what is a bitter but most salutary medicine.

3. When I read the lives of saints and holy men, I find there the true estimate of all things. Now, what was their attitude towards those who despised, persecuted, ill-treated them? They looked upon them as their greatest benefactors. How did they regard the reproaches, the neglect, the unkindness they had to undergo? They thanked God for them, rejoiced in them, considered it a misfortune if they were absent. If we want to resemble the saints, we must take their view of obloquy and misunderstanding. We must strive not only to put up with them but actually to welcome them, rejoice in them, consider them as our greatest privilege.

On Impatience

1. Impatience is one of the most foolish of all faults. It gains nothing for us; it does not relieve our sufferings, but aggravates them. No one enjoys any peace as long as he is yielding to feelings of impatience; he is discontented, miserable, uneasy. He finds intolerable what he could bear well enough if only he would make the necessary effort, and gulp down the rising irritation or suppress the angry words. He is always in a fever, and is a nuisance to himself and to all around him. Do not I know this by experience? If not, I must thank God for giving me so happy a disposition. 2. Impatience is also one of the most ridiculous of all faults. There is something laughable and contemptible in the fuming of the impatient man over some trifle, in his rage because he cannot overcome some difficulty or have his own way as he desires. An impatient man always makes a bad impression. If I could see myself as others see me when I give way to impatience, I should be thoroughly ashamed and very careful not to make myself so foolish again. 3. Impatience, when voluntarily indulged, is a sort of indirect rebellion against God. It is a practical refusal to bear willingly the trials that He has laid upon us; it is a kicking against the goad. No wonder that we hurt ourselves in so doing; it is only what we deserve. We all of us need trials, but if instead of profiting by them and learning patience from them, they are to us only an occasion of impatience, they simply increase our condemnation. If I give way to impatience, it shows that I am not subject as I ought to be to the law of God, and still less to the sweet yoke of Christ.

On Physical Impatience

1. Physical impatience is that involuntary feeling of irritation which is aroused in us by some external and physical cause. We are looking for something and cannot find it. We are trying to fix our thoughts, and some distracting noise renders it impossible. We are trying to compose ourselves to sleep, and some troublesome neighbour wakes us up just as slumber was creeping over us. On account of all such impatience we should humble ourselves, as being a sign of faults indulged in the past, not of present sin.

2. This sort of physical impatience anticipating our reason is very often the result of impatience, pride, self-will long indulged. The ghost of past sins reappearing to remind us of what we have forgotten and to keep us humble. Not always, for St Teresa tells us that owing to ill-health and desolation, she had the greatest difficulty in remaining calm and gentle and in resisting the impulse to speak sharply and disagreeably. But as a general rule, such physical impatience may be taken, at all events while we are in good health, as a mark of pride not completely subdued, and of self-will that has not fully learned to submit.

3. How are we to be rid of physical impatience? Chiefly by schooling ourselves to endure by bearing willingly even what we could avoid, by waiting long ere we knock again, if our first signal produces no effect, by checking the word of complaint or gesture indicative of our suffering. Such little efforts at self-mastery are very pleasing to God; they often cost us a good deal. They may be concerned with trifles, but the victory over ourselves is no trifle. Learn then to seek to overcome the first movements of physical impatience.

On Complaining

1. When anything pains or annoys us, it is a natural impulse to relieve our feelings by telling our griefs to others, partly from a hope of sympathy, partly because it is a great relief to express our vexation or our sorrow. Such complaints are rarely made without sin. It is scarcely possible to speak of what we have suffered without some breach of the law of charity. We must strive to exercise the virtue of patience, and check the rising words in which we are about to pour forth the story of our wrongs.

2. The effort of keeping silent in such a case soon brings its reward. The pain after a time diminishes, whereas to have dilated on it would have made us feel more bitterly than before. Those who know that we have suffered are edified by our silence. Our wrong-doer is often won over by our meekness. Peace comes into our heart. Do I suppress for Christ’s sake and to imitate His patience, unkind words rising to my lips? When I have done so, do I not find that patience brings its own reward?

3. Yet this does not mean that I am always to bury my griefs in my own heart. Sometimes I cannot do so; out they will come in spite of my efforts. Sometimes it is almost a duty to tell our story to some kind and sympathizing friend; half of our troubles disappear or are sensibly diminished in the mere act of telling. But we must choose one whom we can trust and respect. We must be careful not to speak bitterly or to abuse others by way of vent to our feelings. We must try to excuse others, and must tell our story simply and with all charity. Do I observe this rule when I am pouring my troubles into the ear of some friend or adviser?

The Endurance of Temptation

1. Temptations are a necessary element in the career of all the servants of God. “Because thou wast acceptable to God,” says the Angel to Tobias, “it was necessary that temptation should try thee.” (Tobias 12 : 13.) Temptations, therefore, far from being any mark of God’s anger or displeasure, are a sign of His love and favour. This ought to be our consolation when we are harassed by temptations. St James tells us: “My brethren, count it all joy when you fall into divers temptations.” (St James 1 : 2.) I must take a more cheerful view of temptation than I have hitherto done. I must take it as a mark of God’s favour, and then I shall meet it more bravely.

2. How is temptation a sign of God’s love? It is an excellent instrument for engendering humility. If we are inclined to think too much of ourselves, nothing brings us to our senses like some humiliating temptation. It shows us our own weakness and the necessity of continual reliance on God. It produces in us a spirit of dependence upon God. This is the only way to pass through temptation safely. God has promised that He will always make a way to escape from every temptation.

3. Temptation is also necessary to enable us to feel for others under their temptations. Even our Lord, the Apostle tells us, suffered being tempted, that He may be able to succour those that are tempted. (Hebrews 2 : 18.) He knew indeed from the beginning all that His servants suffer, but by enduring temptation He learned it by His own experience so as to feel their sufferings. We do not even know the sufferings of others, much less can we sympathize with them thoroughly. Am I gentle towards those who are tempted, or am I hard and unsympathetic?

Patience under Temptations

1. If we all have to endure temptations, we must try to endure them well. Temptations are not sins. We may be surrounded with temptations. They may be present to us for hours. We may have a sort of guilty feeling as if we had offended God. Yet if we are not conscious of having in any way consented to them, if throughout we have wished them away, then our conscience is free from any stain of sin, even though they may have caused satisfaction to our lower nature and to our baser inclinations. To remember this will help us not a little in bearing them patiently.

2. But there is another consoling consideration with respect to temptation. We may do much for the honour of God and for our own progress in virtue by our resistance to the tempter. We lay up a store of merit in Heaven. We are purified as in the fire, and the dross of venial sins and imperfections is taken away. We must therefore be not only patient, but cheerful under temptations, and thank God for them.

3. Some of the greatest saints were subject to terrible temptations. St Paul, who had been rapt to the third Heaven, was tempted by the sting of the flesh; St Alphonsus, by doubts against every article of the Faith, by vanity, presumption, and concupiscence; St Rose, by darkness, and a seeming hopelessness of being saved; she felt no love of God and feared that she was already among the lost. Yet these were great saints, and they proved their sanctity by their faithfulness under temptation, by crying out, “Jesus, forsake me not! In Thee, O Lord, I. have trusted, let me not be confounded for ever.” I will do the same: I will never lose hope, I will never lose my confidence in God.

On Patience in Sickness

1. It is not easy for those who have always enjoyed robust health to understand how heavy a cross is a long-continued sickness. It is not merely the physical pain, though this is often very hard to bear. It is the discomfort, the weariness, the languor, the depression, that accompany sickness; it is the restlessness, the inability to find repose, the loneliness of the long hours. What need the sick have of patience! Patience should be the watchword of their life. Grant me patience, 0 Lord, patience to suffer for Thee and with Thee and never to murmur even when the pain and suffering is greatest.

2. There is a form of ill-health which is the hardest of all to bear with patience; when we go about our usual occupations in a state of suffering that make everything a burden. We get little sympathy be cause we are still able to do our work, or perhaps we are blamed because we are not able to do it well. Oh, what compassion we should have for those who suffer thus, and if it is our own lot we should do our best to unite our sufferings with the sufferings of Jesus and ask Him to grant us patience to carry our heavy cross.

3. We sometimes fancy that when we are ill and unable to do active work for God, we are useless cannot gain graces for ourselves or for others. This is a great mistake; we can gain more graces in sickness than in health. Suffering is more pleasing to God than doing; it earns greater merit, it prepares us more speedily for Heaven, it blots sin more rapidly. Many of the saints were sanctified by sickness. Hence bear it willingly, try and rejoice in it.

Patience under Bereavement

1. Pure human love, especially the love of father and mother for their children, is one of the most beautiful things in the natural order. It interweaves itself with our very nature. Husband and wife, brother and sister, and above all the children who are in a special sense our own, are a part of ourselves; they are our own by birth, our own-by constant association, our own by a thousand ties of love. Oh, how hard it is to lose one of our little circle, to see the empty place, to miss their looks of love, the sweet sound of their voice. Then indeed we have need of patience, and must beg that we may not grieve like those who have no hope, but may humbly bow our necks under God’s chastising hand. 2. Patience! how are we to obtain it under the crushing blow? How are we to recognize the love of God in thus taking away the light of our eyes from us? It is indeed hard, and for a time the absorbing grief may overpower us. But we can always pray, we can always make an act of resignation, we can always say: “Not as I will, but as thou wilt.” “It is the Lord, let Him do what is good in His sight.” Has this been my conduct when one whom I dearly loved was taken from me?

3. There are many motives of consolation when ,friends and dear ones fade away or die. If they died in their innocence, how we, ought to rejoice when we think of them with Christ in Heaven! If they had sinned and done penance we ought to rejoice that God gave them the grace of dying a good death. We can always console ourselves by praying for them. We can make their departure a reason for living a better and a holier life, that we may not fail of meeting them again before the throne of God. All this I will do more henceforward.

On Patience under Contempt

1. There are few things so hard for human nature to bear as contempt. To be regarded as not worthy of notice, to be spoken of in terms implying that we are looked down upon, to be passed over as if of no importance in the eyes of others, all this is indeed painful to us and sorely tries our patience. When I am thus treated, how do I take it? Am I desirous to prove my importance and the necessity of considering me? If so, I shall not have the patience that I ought to have. I still have much of the spirit of pride left in me. I must pray God to make me more humble.

2. Why is it that contempt is so painful to us? It is because our natural craving is after power and influence. We do not realize our own insignificance. If we did we should be quite willing to be overlooked. We should dislike the high esteem of men. This was the case with the saints. They shunned honour and courted contempt. St Philip used to go into the Cardinals’ places in St Peter’s on a feast that he might have the humiliation of being thrust out. St Francis used to kneel down in the refectory and openly accuse himself of gluttony. Oh my God! shall I ever obtain this grace of being satisfied to be despised, and of disliking to be honoured?

3. Whatwould be the treatment bestowed upon us if those around us saw us as we are in God’s sight, if they knew all the wicked thoughts and sinful actions of our past life? What would be their estimate of us if they saw us with all the abominations of our soul unveiled; if they beheld our pride, and selfishness, and sloth, and impurity, and self-indulgence, our high esteem of ourselves and our indifference to God? Oh how they would despise us then! How we ought to despise ourselves!

Some Motives for Patience under Contempt

1. It is always foolish to complain or to be dissatisfied with that which of its own nature is calculate to advance our happiness and our highest interests. Contempt is better suited than almost anything else to humble us, if we take it as we ought. It cannot fail to tear up the pride that is so deeply rooted in our hearts and which is the great obstacle between us and God. Ought we not then to be grateful to those who do us this service? In stead of resenting this treatment of us, we ought to thank God and pray for them as our benefactors

2. When we look into ourselves, must we not acknowledge that contempt is what ought to be felt towards us? It is the fitting disposition, the proper attitude towards one so contemptible as I am. My love of what is fitting ought to make me welcome it as the right and proper thing. I ought not only to acquiesce in it, but to be pleased at justice being done to me. I ought to say to myself when treated with contempt, That is just and right! It is exactly the true view to take of me! 3. Above all, I ought to value contempt because it gives me a share in the humiliation of my dear Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. He humbled Himself even to death. He was treated with the utmost contempt and ignominy by the very creatures He had made, who owed all to Him, and on whom He had bestowed countless benefits and lavished unmeasured love. What can be better or happier or a greater privilege than thus to be clad in the livery of my Lord, and to be treading, all unworthy as I am in His footsteps? Welcomethen contempt and ignominy for Jesus’ sake and as giving me a share in His Divine life.

The Patience of Job

The patience of Job is proverbial. It is held up in Holy Scripture for our imitation. (St James 5 : 11.) It was commended by God Himself and received a rich reward even in this world. It is therefore worthy of our study and imitation. 1. The patience of Job supported him not against one kind of misfortune only, but against a series of all kinds of calamities coming upon him one after another in rapid succession. All his goods were taken from him, and his children were one and all killed by the fall of a house where they were. Job, so far from murmuring, simply worshipped God, saying: “The Lord gave and the Lord hath taken away: Blessed be the name of the Lord!” Is this my language when I suffer?

2. Job’s next misfortune befell his own body. He was smitten with grievous ulcers from head to foot. His wife, seeing his condition, cried out to him that it was better to put an end to his life than to live on in such a state. But Job gently reproved her: “If we have received good things at the hand of the Lord, why should we not receive evil?” I too have received good things without number from God’s hand. Shall I then murmur if I receive a little of the evil, of which I have deserved so much?

3. But this was not the end of Job’s troubles. His three friends came to comfort him, and began to taunt him as a vain man lifted up by pride, who had hardened his heart and thus brought all this misery upon himself. Poor Job could not restrain the expression of his misery; he poured forth words of sorrow, yet he never lost his patience or His confidence in God. Do I thus keep up my trust in God when all around fail or reproach me undeservedly? Am I gentle and patient with them as vas Job?

The Source of Job’s Patience

1. How was it that Job was able to bear with patience his manifold calamities? It was not that he did not feel them acutely, or that he wrapped himself in a mantle of self-reliant pride. It was simply due to his great subservience to the will of God. His motto was: “As it hath pleased the Lord, so let it be done.” He was quite satisfied with whatever was the Divine good pleasure, and so whatever happened he could say from his heart Blessed be the name of the Lord; he could thank God for it, however great the pain and misery resulting to himself.

2. There was a further secret of Job’s patience. He placed his hopes of happiness in the future, not the present: “I know that my Redeemer liveth, I know that in my flesh I shall see God.” When man thus realizes the love of Jesus, and is able to say my Redeemer (as St Paul said, He loved me and gave Himself for me), he has amid all his troubles a source of consolation that never can dry up. He is able to look to the joyful day of the resurrection. In my trials I must thus look to Jesus. and think of the reward to come which shall richly compensate for all present pain.

3. Job was not only perfectly resigned but ready for fresh sufferings if it were God’s will and if no rebellion in his heart should follow from the additional calamities. “Let this be my comfort that afflicting me He spare not, and that I may not contradict the words of the Holy One.” Is this my spirit? Have I the generosity to pray for more sufferings and more humiliations? At least I will pray that God may send me whatever He sees will cleanse me from sin, and help me to love Him more.

The Reward of Job’s Patience

“You have heard of the patience of Job, and have seen the end of the Lord, that the Lord is merciful and compassionate,” (St James 5 : 11.)

1. The patience of Job produced as its first-fruit humility. Though he had never lost his patience nor in any way rebelled against God, yet when he heard the voice of God declaring to him the Divine Majesty, he accuses himself of speaking unwisely of things that exceeded his knowledge. “ I reprehend myself and do penance in dust and ashes.” This is the effect of suffering on the friend of God; it does not embitter them, it humbles them.

2. Job earned the approval of God Himself having spoken aright. Against his friends the wrath of God was kindled for their unkindness their rash judgment, their censorious words. They were commanded to offer sacrifice for their sins, and to ask Job to pray for them if they desired escape God’s anger. Thus God will always justify His faithful servants, if they leave their cause in His hands. “Blessed are those who wait for Him, they will not be disappointed.” Is this my policy, or am I keen to fight my own battles?

3. God rewarded Job even in this life for his patience. One by one his relations came to comfort him and bring him presents. God blessed his flocks, his herds, his family, and he became doubly as rich as ever. Sons and daughters grew up around him, and Job was happy and prosperous. He died at last, full of days, leaving behind him a name to be honoured as an example of patience as long as the world lasts, and receiving in Heaven a rich reward. Am I earning by my patience in this life God’s blessing and an eternal reward in Heaven?

The Patience of Mary

1. As Jesus came to suffer, it was necessary that Mary should suffer with Him. This was her greatest privilege, and she knew it to be such. She knew it even when her human love broke forth in the words of expostulation: “Son, why hast Thou so dealt with us?” She knew it when she stood broken-hearted beneath the Cross. She knew it when she received in her arms the Body of he Son after He had been taken down from the Cross She knew from first to last that the best proof of our Lord’s love is to give us a share in His sufferings. This was Mary’s consolation; is it mine when I have to suffer? 2. We do not read much in Holy Scripture respecting the patience of Mary, but enough to know that Jesus purposely tried her patience. Why did He prompt holy Simeon to pierce her heart with the prediction of her coming sufferings? Why did He compel her to start in the dark night on the journey to Egypt, when He could so easily have defeated Herod’s projects? Why did He not let her know where He was when He remained behind in Jerusalem? Why did He apparently rebuke her at the marriage of Cana? Why did He allow her heart to be torn by the sight of His Crucifixion? It was all that she might have a more glorious reward and share His triumph in a greater degree.

3 If we could have seen Mary upon earth, we could have been especially struck by her undisturbed peace. This was owing to her perfect patience and readiness to accept everything at God’s hand. “Behold the handmaid of the Lord; let it be done to me according to thy word.” If I desire peace, this must be the motto of my life.

The Patience of Jesus Christ

As in all other virtues, so in patience Jesus Chris is our Teacher and Example. None ever sufferer as He did, and therefore none had to exercise such patience as He exercised.

1. How patient He was with those who reviled and abused Him! Never one indignant word, never one angry look, nothing but sweetness and kindness. “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.” Oh, when shall I be able to imitate the patience of Jesus! when shall I approach even at a distance the Divine Model I profess to imitate ! 2. How patient He was with His Apostles! How their roughness, selfishness, stupidity, must have jarred upon Him! They misunderstood His word they quarrelled among themselves, His predictions respecting the Passion fell upon deaf ears, they all forsook Him in time of danger yet He never was ruffled by the faintest breath of anger or impatience. He who was the Infinite God put up with their inconstancy, selfishness, ambition. Once more, how far am I from the gentleness and patience of the Son of God!

3. In the midst of physical agony such as none other ever tasted, how patient He was! Nothing save a gentle moaning expressive of the agony He was enduring escaped His lips when the scourges lacerated His Sacred Body, and when the nails were driven through His hands and feet. He endured what even He could not have borne had He not been God, and used His Divinity to enable Him to suffer more. Yet He was always submissive to the will of God, always taking a sort of strange joy in His acutest agony, because He knew the rich reward at hand, the long-lived seed who through Him would be redeemed from the wrath of God and endless misery.

The Patience of the Saints

1. To the grace of patience all the saints in great measure owe their eternal reward. Their crown in Heaven will not be due so much to what they have done for God as to what they have suffered for Him. In them “patience has its perfect work” (St James 1 : 4), and that work has been to prepare them for the eternal joys of Heaven. Oh, how grateful they will be to God for the patience that he has given them to suffer willingly for Him! How grateful they will be for the sufferings that have procured for them such happiness inexpressible and peace that knows no end.

2. The saints while still on earth have a truer view of all the events of life than we have. They value above all things, even while they are still suffering them, the crosses and afflictions that God sends them. The Apostles counted it joy to suffer shame for Christ’s sake. “We glory in tribulation,” says St Paul. St Francis Xavier prayed for more suffering; St Teresa that she might go on suffering until her death. This was no mere sentiment, it was common sense and ordinary prudence. They found a real joy even here in suffering. Have I any such joy? or do I dislike and try to avoid suffering? Here is a test of whether I am like the saints.

3. The patience of the saints was more severely tried than is ours. Not only were they stoned, racked, torn asunder, not only did they suffer want, distress, afflictions (Hebrews 11 : 37), but they had to endure what was still harder, ingratitude, failure, unkindness, false accusations, desolation, darkness. Yet they willingly endured all for Jesus’ sake never ceasing to love Him through it all. I have my trials, yet none so dreadful as those, yet I complain even under my lighter cross.

The Patience of the Martyrs

1. To lay down one’s life for Christ is one of the greatest honours that can be bestowed upon us. ensures an immediate entrance into Heaven. gives us a part, such as nothing else can give, the sufferings of Him who laid down His life for us. It is a crowning mark of God’s mercy to those who are His especial friends. It is not in the power of all who desire it; it is given to those for whom God has destined it and to none else. It has to be purchased by a long course of faithful service of God. If only God would give me such a privilege how happy I should be. If only I could live so to deserve it!

2. Even the weak, the timid, the sensitive, can, God gives them the special grace of martyrdom face undismayed the most cruel tortures. Sometimes they did not feel the pain even when it was most agonizing. The secret joy of their hearts the thought that they were suffering for Christ made it seem light to them, and gave them fortitude to endure it to the end. If God should at a time give me the happiness of dying for Him, He will take away all the fear and will give me a light ! joyous heart even in the midst of the greatest physical sufferings.

3 If there is little or no prospect of my laying down my life for Christ, yet I can at least make the offering to Him; I can present myself to suffer anything that He has in store for me. It may be that I am destined for suffering worse than death the prolonged martyrdom of physical or mental anguish. But one thing I know, that He will never lay upon me suffering beyond what I am able to bear, and will with the suffering give the grace necessary to endure it with resignation and perhaps even with joy.

The Patience of the Angels

1. Patience is an angelical virtue as well as purity. The patience of our Guardian Angels must sometimes be sorely tried. Oh, how often they give advice which is not listened to, and whisper in the ear of their clients messages from God, but speak to ears that are willfully deaf ! How often they warn us, but we neglect their warnings! How little notice we take of them and how ungrateful we are to them for all their care! Even when we pray, and in answer to our prayer our Guardian Angel signifies to us what God desires us to do, we often turn away and follow our own perverse inclinations instead. Have I not too often done so ?

2. There is nothing more trying to the patience of those who have active energetic natures than to be continually thwarted, to fail through the obstinacy and stupidity and wilfulness of others, to see their plans fail without any fault of their own. What can be the effect upon the Guardian Angels when one plan after another that they devise for our good fails, and when we thwart their endeavours and render all their efforts fruitless, when we throw away grace after grace and they now that these graces never will return. Is it not enough to cause them to relinquish such clients in disgust? 3 Yet their charity and patience never fail. When we neglect one grace they obtain another for us. When we do that which offends God they pray for is all the more. Untiringly they devise means for bringing us to our senses and never give over their efforts as long as life endures. They are thus our model in dealing with perverse sinners; never to lose heart or be cast down by failure, but to go on to the end patiently working and praying.

The Patience of the Holy Souls

1. In Purgatory the suffering is more intense than any suffering of this present life and there for there is greater need of patience to endure it. But the Holy Souls have their wills in perfect conformity to the will of God, and they cannot be anything but patient amid their torments. They do not and they cannot rebel, but their submission does not remove the bitterness of their unceasing sorrow, as they think how comparatively easy it would have been for them to avoid while still on earth their present anguish by greater faithfullness to grace, and by uniting their actions and sufferings to the actions and sufferings of the Divine Son of God.

2. If we could look forward to those sufferings with an appreciation of what they are, how patient we should be now! We should consider it a privilege to suffer now as the very best way of avoiding the agony of that fire which will be kindled by the wrath of God, and will in some way correspond to our ingratitude and unfaithfulness to our King and Benefactor. If no other motive makes me. patient under my earthly sufferings, yet at least prospect of long years of far worse sufferings ought to make me choose the lighter suffering now. What am I doing to shorten my Purgatory? 3 The Holy Souls must sometimes think reproachfully how little their friends on earth do to help them. Among many other methods of aiding them, I can offer up for them all the pains of mind and body that God sends me, asking God to accept it in alleviation of their sufferings. This will help me to be patient and to suffer willingly, and when my time comes I shall find that patient suffering for others will shorten my time of banishment from God in the fires of Purgatory.

The First Fruit of Patience: Peace

1. We all long after peace; we are anxious not for inactivity, nor indeed that we should have nothing against which to fight, but for the absence of that conflict within us which is the source of all our misery. It is the struggle in our own hearts between two opposing forces of duty and inclination that troubles and disturbs us. If this struggle is to cease, one of these two forces must be crushed. It is the process of crushing our corrupt inclinations that we dread. We have not the necessary courage, though we know that the only way to peace is to mortify our members which are upon the earth. This is the story of my troubles, I have not conquered my lower nature and my self-will.

2. How is the victory to be gained and peace restored to our hearts? It is impossible without suffering. Nothing else has the power to break our proud wills and make us put our stubborn necks beneath the yoke. We speak of those who have suffered having a chastened look, and it always attracts us. There is in suffering a sort of magic which ought to commend it to us, or at least to reconcile us to it. If I have to suffer, I will think of this, and console myself with knowing that God will bring peace and happiness out of it.

3. But it is not all suffering that has this wholesome effect, but only suffering borne with patience. If we are impatient, rebellious, unresigned, our suffering may be an occasion of fresh trouble rather than of peace. I must accept it from the hand of God, if it is to bring with it that quiet tranquillity which I have never yet attained as I fight. I must bow my head and place myself in god’s hands to suffer as He pleases, whatever He Pleases, as long as He pleases. This is the only road to solid peace.

The Second Fruit of Patience: Hope

1. “Patience,” says St Paul, “works out our trial and trial hope.” (Romans 5 : 4.) If we humbly accept the sufferings God sends us without rebellion or complaint, then we reap the reward in rapid growth of hope within our heart. Through the darkness we descry a bright light in the distance, and though our path be a dreary and a painful one, this prospect cheers us up and makes us go on our way rejoicing. In the earlier part of the time of trial, hope was dim and faint, but when we have been proved faithful servants, hope begins to anticipate the future and to fill us with a happiness which makes the present sufferings comparative light. Have I attained that happy state?

2. Joined to this prospect of the future is a great confidence in God in the present. Confidence is part of hope. When we have learned by patience to trust Him amid sorrow, tribulation, disappointment, then we have a solid foundation for trusting Him all the rest of our lives, not only with a sort of blind assurance that all He does best, but with a consciousness of the happy results to come from all that patience bids us bear, results, too, which we begin to experience even here. I must then aim at this confidence and pray that I may gain it by patience.

3. St Paul tells us that if we hope for that which ,which see not, we have to wait for it, for the perfect ,work of patience is to wait contentedly for the time when God will give us the good things He has promised us. This was the Apostle’s frame of mind when he said: “I have fought a good fight, have kept the faith, at the last there is laid up for me a crown of justice.” (2 Timothy 4 : 7.) So, too, for me, if I persevere to the end, there is laid up a like crown. The thought of it shall animate me to fresh patience.

The Third Fruit of Patience: Joy

1. “As it were sorrowing yet always rejoicing.” (2 Cor. 6 : 10.) This is St Paul’s description of the ministers of Christ, labouring for the salvation of souls. What is true of them is true of all faithful servants of God. On the surface apparent misery but down in the depths of the soul intense joy. Ofthis joy St Paul says: “I am filled with comfort and exceedingly abound with joy in all our tribulation.” (2 Cor. 7 : 4.) What is it that works this charm? Patience. Patient endurance, humble submission to the will of God, resignation to His providence.

2. How is it that out of sorrow joy can come? The reason is that if we are living for God and in dependence on Him, and seeking to promote His glory, then, although in the natural order we may be crushed down with pain and suffering, we shall be full of joyby reason of the supernatural gladness that God bestows on us. “Your joy,” says our Lord to His Apostles, “no man shall take from you.” (St John 16 : 22.) Have I any experience of this joy? If so, I will thank God for it; if not, I must wait patiently, and see whether there may not be some hindrance to it on my part.

3. Whence comes this joy? From Heaven. This is why it surpasses all earthly joy and makes earthly sufferings sweet. It is the first faint reflection of the light of Heaven amid the clouds and darkness of earth; the first foretaste of the joy into which the just will be welcomed by their Lord at the gate of Heaven. If one drop of it on earth sweetens all bitterness, and makes all sufferings light, what must be the intensity of joy which will inebriate all those who have here endured tribulation and suffering for Christ’s sake?

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Patriotism

BY MOST REV. WILLIAM J. PHILBIN, D.D. BISHOP OF CLONFERT

INDEX

This Booklet is the text of a Lecture given to The Social Summer School held at Mount Melleray Abbey, 7th August, 1957

Little acquaintance with the world, modern or ancient, is required to convince one that love of country is a powerful force in human affairs. In order to understand its strength it is only necessary to recall the passion that can instantly be evoked by an insult to national honour or, still more decisively, the sacrifices of life and material possessions that whole populations accept in time of war in order to triumph over their rivals. When crisis comes and peril threatens patriotism is liable to sweep through a people with extraordinary emotional appeal, releasing enthusiasm and energy and eliminating selfishness more widely than almost any other influence can do.

For proof of this we need not go beyond our own country. The history, oral traditions and ballads of Ireland are evidence of the large place that patriotism has occupied in the minds of our race in spite of the continuous frustration of national aspirations. Throughout the world our country is known for its record of resistance to oppression at home and for the enthusiastic assistance and leadership which its exiled sons have often given to other struggling peoples. We can claim to have played a part, by various means, in the righting of many injustices. In the temple of patriotism, whose building can be traced back to the Chosen People and the Greeks, Irish people may feel that there are many shrines and sanctities of our contribution.

THE ROOTS OF PATRIOTISM

Patriotic endeavour is highly rated by public opinion in every nation. This, the cynical may suggest, is only natural, since it pays the community to attract the service of its citizens by popular praise and by the prospect of figuring heroically in the national annals. There are better grounds however for the common estimate. Love of country is an outgrowth of love of one’s family and kinsfolk and participates in the goodness of cherishing and helping those nearly related to us. The great Christian virtue of fraternal charity obliges us to love all men and regard all as neighbours, but at the same time it recognizes that those closest to us have first claim on our goodwill, that charity begins at home. To devote oneself to advancing the interests of one’s fellow-countrymen from the motive of Christian charity is obviously an exercise of virtue and when personal advantage, and still more life, is sacrificed for this end virtue of heroic stature is attained.

True patriotism is also rooted in the virtue of justice. It discharges a debt to one’s kinsfolk from whom so much is derived, materially, culturally and spiritually. The desire to redress wrongs inflicted on one’s people-another aspect of justice-is also a powerful stimulus to supporting a national cause. In addition to these two primary virtues, patriotism also fosters and gives opportunity to many others such as fortitude and courage, perseverance, selfdiscipline, endurance, unselfishness. And, last but not negligibly, it calls for the exercise of the virtue of prudence, in all its many-sidedness. Not least of the uses of patriotism is that it provides a great school of character.

In spite of many excellences, however, love of one’s fatherland does not automatically impart the stamp of rightness to all that is undertaken in its name. If fostered too exclusively or pushed too far it forfeits its claim to esteem: in this it resembles pursuit of the good of one’s own family, to which it is closely akin and which also, if undertaken blindly and disproportionately, may easily change from virtue to vice.

EMOTIONAL ELEMENTS BRING DANGER

The fact that emotion is so largely involved in this field is a warning signal; where emotion takes the lead, reason, the proper guide of conduct, is often superseded and we are apt to be led into excesses and errors. For evidence of this we have only to recollect that for unjust causes as well as just ones men in time of war have often fought out hopeless positions to the death and sacrificed their lives in “suicide” attacks. For all their unsavoury associations, empires were not built up without the co-operation of brave and unselfish men. Patriotic feeling is often skilfully exploited in such interests, while rational moral thinking is skilfully discounted. The glamour of heroism has been associated with national selfishness and greed time and again in history, with the tacit suggestion that community interests purify and sanctify any kind of aggression. “The herd instinct” and “mob psychology” are not mere names. They are the governing influences in communities that substitute emotion for reason. “My country right or wrong” is a sentiment at least implicit in the attitude of many people to international affairs.

It is a sentiment that may appear even when the cause of one’s country is basically just. A fundamental ethical principle lays it down that an act is not constituted good merely by being directed to a good end; the means used must also be morally defensible. The end does not justify the means. No people is disposed to be over-critical of actions done in its favour, especially if courage has been shown or life lost in their doing. But neither courage nor the provocation of unjust treatment dispense from the moral law, whose precepts apply in every department of human activity. “Of course the Irish are entitled to freedom,” said Pope Benedict XV, “but be careful of the means you use to gain it.” Even in reviewing the past it is not true history nor wise policy to palliate or overlook what is wrong: onesided or partial versions of events will seed a bad harvest in the example they offer succeeding generations. It is unjust to the young to make a country’s story a mere propaganda weapon to influence their minds in particular directions. History is necessarily selective, but to select a nation’s military endeavours for disproportionate attention and to glorify them beyond other achievements of a higher order is distortion of the past.

It is a safe rule that the more deeply we find emotional factors engaged the more studious we should be in applying our critical intelligence to assess the moral issues involved and to discount prejudice and sentimental considerations. Enthusiasm should follow judgment and be governed by reason. Passion ought to act as a boosting factor, an auxiliary influence, not as the primary source of activity or main generator of power. A good cause, a noble aim, may be so irrationally accepted that conscience is dulled or blinded in a mist of feeling. Apart from our duty to ourselves, surely the best tribute one can pay to an ideal is the use of only such means as will not disgrace it. Disproportionate, undiscriminating dedication to the national interest may amount to fanaticism, a caricature of patriotism which is poor service to a good purpose and a grievous abuse of intellectual nature.

PATRIOTISM NEEDS A HIGHER DEDICATION

Patriotism must be viewed reasonably and critically. We should first of all see it in its context, in its relation to our responsibilities generally. It is all-important to recognise that devotion to one’s country is not an absolute value in life, a law unto itself, the source of dictates and demands admitting no subordination to other interests. It is not to be classed as equal to, or above, our duty to God. It is not a religion or a substitute for religion: we should be clear on this in times when political ideals, good and bad, so often usurp the place of religion. It is not an ultimate goal of action. It is a force that should be directed towards God within the framework of His law, an effort to fulfil His will by perfecting the human society He has created through the promotion of justice and good government and community well-being generally. Only so will it be integrated into a Christian life and become a Christian virtue. It is sometimes suggested that death for one’s country of itself establishes a right to Heaven; but in fact it is only when such a sacrifice is ultimately given to God that it can have any supernatural value whatever.

To any works that are not directed towards God, however admirable they may appear, Our Lord’s words of those who have acted for worldly motives apply: “Amen, I say to you, they have received their reward.” If we keep clearly in mind that service of our country is ultimately to be offered to God we shall not need to be told that only those activities which are pleasing to God, that is, morally right, should be undertaken under its inspiration. “Patriotism is not enough.” Even though it may occupy the major part of one’s thoughts, as is legitimate and laudable in those who give themselves to public affairs, it will not be as an autonomous element in Life but as subject to higher principles. It will take on a special colouring by reason of its dedication to higher purposes. “ All whatsoever you do in word or in work, do all in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ.” (Col. 3, 17). This is Christian patriotism, subordinated to higher values and gaining merit from association with them. It is a rational, balanced, though none the less warm-hearted and generous devotion to the interests of the community to which one belongs. Like the virtue of charity from which it derives it “is patient, is kind, is not envious, does not deal perversely, is not puffed up, is not ambitious, is not provoked to anger.” (I Cor. 13, 4–5).

SELFISH MOTIVES ARE OFTEN OPERATIVE

Even by human standards it is easy to realize that patriotism may need to be purified of considerable elements of dross. Samuel Johnson defined it as the last refuge of a scoundrel and there have been at every stage in history and in every country persons entering public life for the most selfish ends disguised under the highest professions. And even apart from hypocrisy on this scale people may easily deceive themselves about the motives that attract them to community affairs. Publicity, fame and desire for authority and influence may be factors telling more weightily than is readily acknowledged or recognized. No one should seek to take from service of the community all its agreeable features but, in so far as these are the main factors that attract to the public service, such a choice of career cannot be considered praiseworthy and is likely ultimately to prove more harmful than beneficial to the public interest.

Even where pursuits are concerned that endanger life and personal liberty we cannot exclude the desire for adventure and dreams of fame as exercising considerable appeal. Valorous and difficult exploits, with or without acclaim, exert much fascination in their own right-witness the feats of mountain-climbers and explorers and the bravery even of mercenary soldiers who may be quite unconcerned about the matters at issue. Ambition for renown is not different in kind from the quest of other worldly rewards. Courage alone does not establish unselfish motives: it is a common denominator of both sides in every struggle, not the distinguishing feature of a just and good cause. There are people who regret that their lives are cast in times when their country is at peace: it is clear that what they are seeking is not such service of their country as her circumstances require, but the emotional satisfaction of physical combat.

Irish people are not alone in forgetting to make this kind of self-examination at times. Even the very rational Samuel Johnson already referred to showed some sentimental weakness in this connection when he said that every man despises himself a little for not being a soldier. The most famous novel ever written tells of a Spanish gentleman who foolishly romanticized physical combat, as a result of unbalanced, uncritical reading. Cardinal Wyszynski in his first statement after being released by the Communists pointed out that the time has come when Poles must learn not how to die but how to live for their country. “One dies quickly and becomes famous quickly. But one lives in difficulties, in pain, in suffering, in sorrow, for many years and this is the greater heroism which is needed at the present time.” Irish people too are highly emotional and need to be reminded that the greater heroism is not always found in spectacular exploits, in spite of the applause which they may attract.

Patriotism in oneself or in others should be questioned and tested before it is accepted for what it declares itself to be. Sometimes it may be espoused out of laziness and distaste for a humdrum life. An important question is whether one is prepared to contribute to the common good unobtrusively and patiently, by way of hard work offering no gratification to vanity. Again, one should ask if one’s patriotism is of the type, known latterly in many countries, that seeks to impose on a population a particular regime or way of life in defiance of their expressed will-a still more grievous proceeding if this is done on the theory that the population are somehow disqualified from making any valid decision at all, so that a small group constitutes the only legitimate repository of the national will. Thinking along those lines is the reverse of patriotism, it makes for dictatorship and tyranny. It is egotism and desire for power assuming other names and appearances.

TESTS OF MORALITY, HUMAN VALUE, REASONABLENESS

It must never be forgotten that the moral law obliges us to obey and respect the public authority. Even though a country has lost part of its territory it may still establish a lawful government: aggression can surely do enough harm without our supposing it can deprive even the unconquered part of a nation of the right to self-government. Who in West Germany, for instance, would suggest otherwise? To deny that a nation can establish a lawful government until its full territories are regained or some similar condition realised is more radically opposed to a citizen’s duty than simple disobedience since it asserts what is tantamount to a principle of anarchy. There are, one must insist, no ethical grounds for such a position and it is vain to attempt to invent any.

Devotion to a particular theory of government may lead to a tragic diversion of patriotic endeavour away from the men, women and children who should be its beneficiaries and in the direction of a personified national entity which is so largely an imaginary conception. When patriotism ceases to be the servant of the population of a country and despises their opinions and their authority it has transformed itself from a useful force into an extreme danger. The state exists only for the benefit of its individual citizens: patria propter homines we may say, adapting a theological adage. It is a form of state-worship to suggest that a nation is a reality superior to the human beings that compose it. To assert that the soul of a nation must be protected from its citizens, whose proceedings are violating its rights, is pushing an absurdity to extremes and constitutes merely an attempt to justify the imposition of the wishes of a minority upon the rest of the population. It should be needless to add that it is the present population of a country whose voice is to be heard in its affairs, not the dead-whose outlook in any case it is so easy, by arbitrary selection, to misrepresent.

Every national group has of course inherited a mass of common traditions and characteristics and does well to foster and develop its typical culture in every mode of expression. By such means natural gifts and capacities are brought to full maturity and the whole human family is diversified and enriched. But attachment to the distinguishing features of one’s own racial endowment should not lead to an exaggerated estimate of the significance of nationhood. This might result in a type of nationalism which is no part of the Christian virtue of charity and which is nearer in many ways to paganism than to Christianity. The brotherhood of man is a bigger reality than the distinctness of nations. The inhuman, doctrinaire shapes that patriotism is sometimes made to assume are a dreadful distortion of a noble ideal.

Reasoning and discussion on such lines is sometimes represented as unworthy of the theme of love of country. This is because there has been imported into this subject an element of irrationality and a contempt for cool judgment which are fertile sources of error. It is made to appear that heroism and sacrifice should, on precedent, be the order of the day here, that folly and recklessness have received the stamp of high approval and taken on a kind of nobility. But it can scarcely be too often insisted that intellect was given us to be the governing and discriminating factor in every department of conduct. Feeling and passion-and especially anger and hatred-are disastrous alternatives either in public or in private life. To suggest that there is something noble in ignoring the voice of reason and being led by instinct and emotion is the reverse of the truth.

It is an indignity to man’s highest faculty to put emotions, which are so largely nervous reactions, on a level with it or above it and to say: “I cannot defend these courses, I know that they are wrong but my instincts, my feelings, are all with courageous and challenging deeds.” Instinct is the proper guide only of creatures devoid of intelligence.

Hero-worship too, in so far as it blinds us to human defects that may provide evil example or attaches weight to statements that offer false guidance, must be checked and controlled. We should scrutinize popular slogans and reject those that are indefensible no matter from whom they may have emanated. The honour we rightly give to patriots should not preclude such criticism. A Christian cannot accept from any source the statement that the shedding of blood and the taking of life are good things in themselves and that one may even be careless about what lives are taken. Similarly if the saying that we take our religion from Rome but our politics from home was meant to convey that politics are outside the scope of moral judgment this was a false principle. Other political aphorisms too should not go unchallenged, some of them associating religion with politics not as the superior and guiding element but as on equal terms or even subordinate.

PATRIOTISM NOT ALWAYS NATIONALISTIC OR VIOLENT

The drift of our times as well as other factors points to the need of correcting over-emphasis on the political and nationalistic side of patriotism. This does not of course exclude the legitimacy of striving by just means for those forms of government one thinks best. Politics and political theories are necessary and people naturally take sides about them. When ways can be seen of improving democratic systems or replacing faulty polities remedies should be advocated and acceptance of them sought by legitimate means: nobody need suppose that the final shape of the social fabric has now been attained. But such receptivity of new ideas should not be confused with the childish impulse to throw away the whole framework of a society because it is imperfect and to assume that radical change will necessarily bring something better. All human institutions are imperfect—including those that come by way of revolution.

Even when our goals are political and social we should not think of violence as the only means of reaching them. Gandhi was surely as great a political regenerator of his people as any figure of this century and he entirely excluded the use of violence. No one can doubt that his stature is all the greater for this restraint. We should not find his methods alien from our traditions if we read our history comprehensively and fairly. Both at home and abroad the Irish people have made their most notable contribution to public life by the resource and persistence they have exhibited in exploiting democratic methods and exerting moral pressure in the interests they championed. Daniel O’Connell is our best-known political figure in world history, not so much for the results he achieved as for having been a pioneer in developing the techniques of peaceful agitation and passive resistance.

If we are guided by the concept of patriotism as designed to help and serve human beings we shall have the means of correcting the undue emphasis on nationalistic, political, and violent aspects of patriotism which an unbalanced presentation of history has brought us to regard as the sole manifestation of this virtue. It is as if governmental forms were everything for the community and public welfare could not be promoted independently of them. Patriotism, it should be clearly understood, is not identical with nationalism. The latter is a narrower concept and much more ambiguous morally. Philosophers of history have demonstrated that many of the evils of mankind are traceable to its excesses and some thinkers can foresee no real tranquillity or order in the world until it is superseded or subordinated to a higher allegiance. Some measure of restriction upon complete national autonomy seems indeed almost certain to come. But there will always be room for patriotism, truly understood, no matter what the status of nations may be in new world orders.

Patriotism should not be blind to other ways than the political in which one’s country may be served: sometimes if these are persistently followed political adjustments ensue almost automatically. Let us have done with two pernicious errors that are closely akin-the notion that there can be no progress until certain administrative changes occur and the feeling that if such changes were realized all would be well, almost without further effort. The bedrock of all patriotism is the principle that this virtue must serve the actual people of the country. Since they can be helped in other ways than by alterations in the structure or status of the state it follows that patriotism can take other forms than the political.

WIDER INTERPRETATION OF PATRIOTISM

The great need in our present circumstances in Ireland is to accept a wider interpretation of patriotism and to put this into practice. Constitutional forms are only the framework of community living: it is what goes on under their protection and with their support that is the important matter. In the judgment of many self-expression is the most worthwhile part of nationhood: it can be established while many other aspirations remain unrealized. A highlydeveloped and typical culture is the best basis for national claims. Let us give the world something better to remember us by than our name carved on a tree.

For such ends we may not neglect economic realities. If our numbers diminish much further and our economy continues to run down we shall not have the strength, or the interest left to develop the spiritual and cultural resources of our people and to offer to the world evidence of an individuality justifying our struggles for independence; yet this is perhaps the greatest reward of freedom. To keep national prosperity abreast of rapidly rising standards of living in other countries is evidently the only way of preventing our country from being drained of its most ambitious citizens.

We cannot progress along these lines without the all-out effort of all our people. There is need for the whole of our patriotic energy. To anyone who has the good of the country at heart it is sad to see idealism and unselfishness drawn into wasteful and even harmful channels. Surely a moral is easily drawn from the fact that our economic backwardness is being used more and more as an argument against the re-integration of our country. A healthy economy is a presupposition of any political progress. To exist at all is more important than the political manner of one’s existence. Everything we can achieve and contribute as a people is founded on our survival as a people and if there is danger here it has priority over any political injustice. Our patriotism needs to be realist not escapist, practical not spectacular and romantic. If only a remnant of the Irish people is left at home, living on a run-down economy, it will matter little how we are governed; we shall be a negligible factor in human affairs.

The first half of the present century has seen the political rebirth of our country. The energies thrown up and the exertions made in the struggle were a revelation of what Irish people are capable of. Although several portions of the ideals aimed at are still unrealized, the transformation effected in the life of our country and in the outlook of our people was an extraordinary achievement. It would be appropriate if the second half of this century were to witness a corresponding economic rebirth. A necessary precondition of this will be to rid our minds of any idea that there is something inherently selfish and material about ordinary productive work and that the highest service to one’s country can only be thought of in military terms.

MISCONCEPTIONS AND FAILINGS TO BE OVERCOME

We must cease to be slaves of the past, or of selective versions of the past, and recognize that changed times may require changed methods and new objectives. We must try to overcome our temperamental impatience, our preference for physical to moral force, our susceptibility to waves of emotion and impulse-failings which show our immaturity as a political society. We must be prepared to accept not merely hard and persistent work but also the even more exacting discipline of carefully thought-out programmes, critically supervised and controlled by comparisons with what is being done elsewhere. Most important of all, we must invite and encourage leadership from our most capable citizens in organizing and directing the measures that are necessary for our economic salvation, in the way that leadership was evoked in the course of our political struggles. It is only the prospect of service to the community that will attract the best of our young people into public affairs. Here is the opportunity today of national service on a grand scale.

Economic measures are patriotic if they are done from patriotic motives. Even if they bring advantage and profit to oneself they are none the less so-after all, the individual who exerts himself is a deserving member of the community as well as the others. And there is an element of alloy in almost every good motive. Probably the most useful patriotic work in Ireland today is being done by those associations that are improving productivity in our chief industries and raising standards of life socially and culturally. The spirit which they foster must be communicated outside their membership and appear in private and personal activities as well as in organized undertakings. People should be expected to promote the common good even without the encouragement and rewards of publicity. Each individual should feel a responsibility in his own sphere of work to increase the national credit and promote prosperity. The approval of one’s own conscience should be a better recompense than public recognition. There are many improvements that can come only through the minute, continuous efforts of individuals whose work will never be acclaimed. An enterprising industrialist may be the truest patriot: he is certainly giving indispensable service to the community in our present critical circumstances.

Any development of the country’s resources is a contribution to patriotic ends. To improve standards of Irish products, to see that flaws and diseases are eliminated in livestock and other market commodities, to raise the fertility of land and thereby contribute to a healthier balance of payments, all these and similar undertakings should not be thought so mundane and commonplace as to be unworthy of the honoured name of love of country. They bring this virtue down to earth in a way that is nowadays essential. If everyone improved his own work and property we should have a transformed nation and should be much nearer to attaining all our aspirations. To remove unsightly objects from one’s surroundings and add beauty to the landscape, to show courtesy and welcome to visitors, to develop restraint in games and to indicate disapproval of displays of bad temper and violence, these too are patriotic courses. “To make us love our country,” said Edmund Burke, “our country ought to be lovely.” By propagating the national language and developing our own music, games, literature and art we enhance the reputation of Ireland and raise the national morale in a way that will be reflected in economic life and in other spheres as well. In innumerable ways we can substantiate our claim to individuality by showing that we possess distinctive talents.

EMANCIPATING PATRIOTISM

Different opportunities invite us in various directions. People with contrasting tastes and gifts will severally be attracted towards what they know they can do best. The first essential is to emancipate patriotism from domination by purely political thinking and to extend its energies into wider fields where its influence is more urgently required. Let us restore to this virtue its human significance. Let us bring it down from the clouds and see it as offering a friendly approach to human problems and ample scope for every kind of goodwill and constructive intelligence. Above all let us see that it is not perverted into a malignant destructive force.

If by processes such as these we lose the stimulus and glamour that have traditionally attached to nationalistic enterprises we shall not have to go far afield to find compensations that are more than adequate. No activity of ours reaches its full perfection unless it is related to God. Human values are not self-supporting: they are securely maintained only when grafted into the tree of divine faith and nourished by divine grace. Unless God builds the house of our nationhood we shall labour in vain in its building: if we neglect to take account of Him it will be built on a foundation of sand. Personally too, a patriotism that is supernaturalized confers a special enrichment. By thinking of it as a service to God and an exercise in several of the chief Christian virtues, we may be happy to forego the praise of men for the sake of the approval that truly counts and the rewards which neither rust nor moth consume.

********

ABANDONED PEOPLE, ABANDONED CHILDREN

Flora

Germaine Cousin

Ivo Of Kermartin

Jerome Emiliani

Pelagius

Abbeville, France

Wulfram Of Sens

AFFIANCED, BETROTHED OR ENGAGED COUPLES

Agnes Of Rome

Valentine

AFRICA

Mary, Queen Of Africa Moses The Black

ABDOMINAL PAINS ERASMUS

ABINGDON, ENGLAND

Edmund Rich Of Abingdon

ABORTION, AGAINST CATHERINE OF SWEDEN

ABUSE VICTIMS

Adelaide

Agostina Pietrantoni

Eve Lavalliere

Fabiola

Germaine Cousin

Godelieve

Jeanne De Lestonnac Jeanne Marie De Maille Joaquina Vedruna De Mas Laura Vicuna

Margaret The Barefooted Maria Bagnesi

Monica Pharaildis

Rita Of Cascia

ACCOMODATIONS

Gertrude Of Nivelles

ACCOUNTANTS

Matthew The Apostle Achaia

Andrew The Apostle

ACTORS

Genesius Vitus

AFRICAN-AMERICANS, NEGROES, BLACK PEOPLE

Benedict The Black

Peter Claver

AIDS CARE-GIVERS ALOYSIUS GONZAGA

AIDS PATIENTS ALOYSIUS GONZAGA PEREGRINE LAZIOSI THERESE OF LISIEUX MICHAEL THE ARCHANGEL

AMERICAS

Isaac Jogues And Companions Mary Ann De Paredes

Our Lady Of Guadalupe Rose Of Lima

AMMUNITION WORKERS, ORDNANCE WORKERS,

EXPLOSIVES WORKERS

Erasmus

AMPUTEES

Anthony Of Padua Anthony The Abbott

ANESTHETISTS, ANETHESIOLOGISTS RENE GOUPIL

ANGINA SUFFERERS SWITHBERT

AIR TRAVELLERS

Joseph Of Cupertino

ANGOLA

Immaculate Heart Of Mary

AIRCRAFT PILOTS, AVIATORS,

FLYERS, AIR CREWS, AVIATION,

BELGIAN AIR CREWS, SPANISH AIR CREWS, AVIATION, FLYING

Joseph Of Cupertino

Our Lady Of Loreto

Therese Of Lisieux

ALCOHOLICS, REFORMED MARTIN OF TOURS

Matthias

ALCOHOLISM, ALCOHOLICS JOHN OF GOD

Martin Of Tours

Matthias The Apostle Monica

Urban Of Langres

ANIMAL ATTACKS, AGAINST VITUS

ANIMAL WELFARE SOCIETIES FRANCIS OF ASSISI

ANIMALS

Anthony Of Padua Anthony The Abbot Blaise

Francis Of Assisi

Nicholas Of Tolentino

APPENDICITIS ERASMUS

APPRENTICES

John Bosco

Leonard Murialdo

ACTRESSES

Pelagia The Penitent

ALGERIA

Cyprian Of Carthage Our Lady Of Africa

ADULTERY OR UNFAITHFULNESS, VICTIMS OF CATHERINE OF GENOA

Elizabeth Of Portugal

Fabiola

Gengulphus

Marguerite d’Youville

Monica

Paola Gambera-Costa

ADVERTISERS, ADVERTISING BERNADINE OF SIENA

ADVOCATES

Ivo Of Kermartin

ALPINE TROOPS MAURICE

ALPINISTS, TRAVELLERS IN THE ALPS BERNARD OF MONTJOUX

ALTAR SERVERS, ALTAR BOYS, MASS SERVERS

John Berchmans

Tarsicius

AMBULANCE DRIVERS, EMERGENCY MEDICAL TECHNICIANS,

EMTS, PARAMEDICS

APOLOGISTS

Catherine Of Alexandria Justin Martyr

Thomas Aquinas

ARABIA

Mary, Our Lady Of Arabia

ARCHEOLOGISTS DAMASUS

Jerome

ARCHERS

Christopher

George

Hubert Of Liege Sebastian

ARCHITECTS

Barbara

Bernward

Thomas The Apostle

ARCHIVES LAWRENCE

ATHLETES SEBASTIAN

BAILIFFS

Ivo Of Kermartin

AUSTRALIA

Our Lady Help Of Christians Francis Xavier

Therese of the Child Jesus

ARGENTINA

Our Lady Of Lujan

ARM PAIN, AGAINST AMALBURGA

ARMENIA

Bartholomew The Apostle Gregory The Illuminator

ARMIES MAURICE

ARMORIES LAWRENCE

ARMOURERS

Barbara

Dunstan

George

Lawrence

Sebastian

Arms Dealers

Adrian Of Nicomedia

ART

Catherine Of Bologna

AUSTRIA

Coloman

Florian

Joseph

Leopold The Good Maurice

Our Lady Of Mariazell Severinus

AUTHORS, WRITERS FRANCIS DE SALES JOHN THE APOSTLE LUCY OF SYRACUSE

AUTOMOBILE DRIVERS, AUTOMOBILISTS, MOTORISTS

Christopher

Elijah The Prophet

Frances Of Rome

BABIES, INFANTS, TODDLERS, NEWBORNS BRIGID OF IRELAND

Holy Innocents

Nicholas Of Tolentino

Philip Of Zell

Raymond Nonnatus

Zeno Of Verona

BAKERS

Elizabeth Of Hungary Honorius Of Amiens Michael The Archangel Nicholas Of Myra

Peter The Apostle

BAKERS OF HOLY WAFERS HONORIUS OF AMIENS

BANKERS

Bernardine Of Feltre Matthew The Apostle Baptism

John The Baptist

BARBERS

Cosmas

Damian

Louis IX

Martin De Porres

BARTENDERS, BAR KEEPERS, BAR STAFF

Amand

BASKET MAKERS, BASKET WEAVERS ANTHONY THE ABBOTT

BATTLE

Michael The Archangel

ART DEALERS

John The Apostle

ARTHRITIS; RHEUMATISM; RHEUMATOID SUFFERERS

James The Greater

ARTILLERY, ARTILLERYMEN, GUNNERS BARBARA

ARTISTS

Angelico

Catherine Of Bologna Luke The Apostle

Michael The Archangel

ASIA MINOR

John The Apostle

ASSES

Anthony of Padua

BACHELORS

Benedict Joseph Labre Benezet

Boniface Of Tarsus

Caesarius Of Nanzianzen Casimir Of Poland

Christopher

Cuthman

Epipodius

Gerald Of Aurillac

Guy Of Anderlecht

John Rigby

Joseph Moscati

Luke The Apostle

Marinus

Pantaleon

Roch

Serenus

Theobald

BATTLES, AGAINST FLORIAN

BEE KEEPERS

Ambrose Of Milan Bernard Of Clairvaux Valentine

BEES

Ambrose Of Milan

BEGGARS

Alexius

Benedict Joseph Labre Elizabeth Of Hungary Giles

Martin Of Tours

BELGIUM

Joseph

Our Lady Of Banneux Our Lady Of Baeuraing

ASTRONAUTS

Joseph Of Cupertino

BACTERIAL DISEASES OR INFECTIONS AGRIPPINA

BELL-FOUNDERS AGATHA

ASTRONOMERS

Dominic De Guzman

BAD WEATHER, AGAINST EUROSIA

Medard

BELT MAKERS ALEXIUS

Raphael The Archangel Thomas The Apostle

BENEDICTINE OBLATES HENRY II

BLOOD BANKS JANUARIUS

BREAST CANCER AGATHA

Aldegundis

Giles

Peregrine Laziosi

BETRAYAL VICTIMS EPIPODIUS

Flora

Oswin

Philip Howard Pulcheria

BIBLE SCHOLARS JEROME

BICYCLISTS, CYCLISTS, BICYCLE RIDERS LA MADONNA DI GHISALO

BIRD DEALERS

John The Baptist

BIRDS GALL

BIRTH, CHILDBIRTH ERASMUS

Gerard Majella

Leonard Of Noblac Lutgardis

Margaret Of Antioch Mary, Blessed Virgin Raymond Nonnatus

BIRTH COMPLICATIONS, AGAINST ULRIC

BIRTH PAINS ERASMUS

BISHOPS

Charles Borromeo

BLACKBIRDS KEVIN

BLACKSMITHS

Brigid Of Ireland Dunstan

Eligius

Giles

James The Greater Leonard Of Noblac

BLIGHT, AGAINST

Urban Of Langres

Blind People, Blindness Catald

Cosmas

Damian

Dunstan

Lucy Of Syracuse

Lutgardis

Odilia

BODILY PURITY AGNES OF ROME

BREAST DISEASE, INVOKED AGAINST AGATHA

BOILERMAKERS

Eligius

Bolivia

The Virgin Of Copacabana Our Lady Of Capucdana Virgin De La Candelaria Our Lady Of Mount Carmel

BOOKBINDERS

Bartholomew The Apostle Columba

John Of God

John The Apostle

Luke The Apostle

Pope Celestine V

BOOKKEEPERS

Matthew The Apostle

BOOK SELLERS, PUBLISHERS, BOOK TRADE JOHN DUCKETT

John Of God

John The Apostle

Thomas Aquinas

BORNEO

Francis Xavier

BOOT BLACKS, SHOE SHINERS NICHOLAS OF MYRA

BOWEL DISORDERS BONAVENTURE

BOX MAKERS FIACRE

BREAST FEEDING GILES

BREWERS

Amand

Arnold

Augustine Of Hippo Barbara

Boniface

Florian

Lawrence

Luke The Apostle Nicholas Of Myra Wenceslas

BRICK LAYERS

Stephen Of Hungary

BRICK MAKERS VINCENT FERRER

BRIDES

Adelaide

Blaesilla

Catherine Of Genoa

Clotilde

Delphina

Dorothy Of Caesarea Dorothy Of Montau

Elizabeth Of Hungary Elizabeth Of Portugal Hedwig

Ida Of Herzfeld

Ivetta Of Huy

Margaret The Barefooted Nicholas Of Myra

BOY SCOUTS GEORGE

BRIDGE BUILDERS JOHN NEPOMUCENE

BOYS

Dominic Savio John Bosco

Nicholas Of Myra

BRASS WORKERS

Barbara

BRAZIL

Our Lady Of Nazareth

Our Lady Of The Immaculate Conception Our Lady Who Appeared

Peter Of Alcantara

BRIDGES

John Nepomucene

BRITTANY DEFINITION ANNE

Ivo Of Kermartin

BROADCASTERS

GABRIEL THE ARCHANGEL BROKEN BONES

Drogo

Stanislaus Kostka

BROOMMAKERS

Anne

Charles Lwanga

BRUISES AND BRUISING, AGAINST AMALBURGA

BRUSHMAKERS

Anthony The Abbott

BUILDERS, CONSTRUCTION WORKERS BARBARA

Blaise

Louis IX

Our Lady Of Loretto

Thomas The Apostle

Vincent Ferrer

BULGARIA CYRIL

Methodius

BURGLARY, AGAINST LEONARD OF NOBLAC

BURNS

John The Apostle

BURSARS JOSEPH

BUS DRIVERS

Christopher

BUSINESS PEOPLE HOMOBONUS

BUSINESS WOMEN

Margaret Of Clitherow

CANADA, NEW FRANCE ANNE

George

Joseph

Our Lady Of The Cape Saint Mary Of The Hurons

CANCER PATIENTS ALDEGUNDIS

Giles

Peregrine Laziosi

CANDLEMAKERS, CHANDLERS AMBROSE OF MILAN

Bernard Of Clairvaux

Honorius Of Amiens

Canonists

Raymond Of Penyafort Robert Bellarmine

CARMELITE SCHOOLS ALBERT OF SICILY

CARNIVAL WORKERS JULIAN THE HOSPITALLER

CARPENTERS

Anne

Barbara

Eulogius Of Cordoba Joseph

Matthias

Wolfgang

BUTCHERS

Adrian Of Nicomedia

Anthony The Abbott

Bartholomew The Apostle George

Luke The Apostle

Peter The Apostle

BUTTON MAKERS LOUIS IX

CAB DRIVERS, TAXI DRIVERS CHRISTOPHER

Eligius

Fiacre

Frances Of Rome

CABINETMAKERS ANNE

Joseph

Victor

CARRIAGE MAKERS ELIGIUS

CATS

Gertrude Of Nivelles

CATTLE

Brigid Of Ireland

Colman Of Stockerau Cornelius

Drogo

Perpetua

CATTLE DISEASE, AGAINST BEUNO

Roch

CEMETERY WORKERS CALLISTUS I

CENTRAL AFRICA

The Most Pure Heart Of Mary

CAVALRY

George

Martin Of Tours

CENTRAL AMERICA ROSE OF LIMA

CHARCOAL BURNERS MAURUS

CHARITIES, CHARITABLE SOCIETIES, CHARITABLE WORKERS, VOLUNTEERS ELIZABETH OF HUNGARY

Elizabeth Of Portugal

Vincent De Paul

CARTWRIGHTS, CART MAKERS ELIGIUS

CARVERS BLAISE

Olaf II

CATECHISTS

Cesar De Bus

Charles Borromeo Robert Bellarmine Viator

CHASTITY, INVOKED FOR AGNES OF ROME

Thomas Aquinas

CHEMICAL CHEMICAL INDUSTRY, MANUFACTURERS

Cosmas

Damian

CHILBLAINS, AGAINST BASILLISA

Genesius Of Arles

CATECHUMENS

Charles Borromeo Robert Bellarmine

CATHOLIC ACTION FRANCIS OF ASSISI

CHILD ABUSE VICTIMS ALODIA

Germaine Cousin Lufthild

Nunilo

CALUMNIES OR SLANDER, AGAINST JOHN NEPOMUCENE

CAMBRIDGE UNIVERSITY ETHELDREDA

CATHOLIC PRESS

Anthony Mary Claret Francis De Sales

CATHOLIC YOUTH

Aloysius Gonzaga

CHILDHOOD DISEASES ALDEGUNDIS

Pharaildis

CHILDHOOD INTESTINAL DISEASES ERASMUS

CHIMNEY SWEEPS FLORIAN

CHILDLESS PEOPLE

Anne Line

Catherine Of Genoa Gummarus

Henry II

Julian The Hospitaller

CHINA JOSEPH

CHIVALRY GEORGE

COIN COLLECTORS; NUMISMATISTS ELIGIUS

Stephen The Younger

COLD OR COLD WEATHER, AGAINST MAURUS

Sebaldus

CHILDREN

Bathild

Gerard Majella

Infant Jesus Of Prague Maria Goretti

Nicholas Of Myra

Pancras

Raymond Nonnatus

CHOIR BOYS

Dominic Savio

GREGORY THE GREAT HOLY INNOCENTS CHOIRS

Dominic Savio

CHOLERA ROCH

COLIC

Erasmus

COLORADO

Immaculate Mary

COLUMBIA

Louis Bertran

Our Lady Of Chiquinquir Peter Claver

CHILDREN, ADOPTED CLOTILDE

Thomas More

William Of Rochester

CHILDREN, BACKWARD HILARY OF POITIERS

CHILDREN, LATE IN LEARNING TO WALK VAAST

CHILDREN, MALE (TO HAVE) FELICITY

CHILDREN, SICK BEUNO

Clement I

Hugh Of Lincoln Ubaldus Baldassini

Children Of Mary Agnes Of Rome Maria Goretti

Children, Stammering Notkar Balbulus

Children, Unborn Gerard Majella

Children’s Choir Dominic Savio Holy Innocents

Children Whose Parents Were Not Married; Illigitimacy

Brigid Of Ireland

Eustochium Of Padua

Sibyllina Biscossi

CHILE

Our Lady Of Mount Carmel James The Greater

CHURCH CLEANERS THEOBALD ROGGERI

CHURCH, THE

Joseph

Peter The Apostle

CIRCUS WORKERS

Julian The Hospitaller

COMEDIANS, COMMEDIENNES GENESIUS

Lawrence

Vitus

COMMUNICATIONS WORKERS BERNADINE OF SIENA

Gabriel The Archangel

CIVIL DISORDER; RIOT (AGAINST) ANDREW CORSINI

CIVIL SERVANTS

Thomas More

Gabriel Of Our Lady Of Sorrows Gabriel The Archangel

Thomas a’Becket

CLOCK MAKERS; WATCHMAKERS ELIGIUS

Peter The Apostle

CLOISTERED NUNS

Blessed Virgin Mary

Gertrude The Great

Scholastica

CLOTHMAKERS, CLOTHWORKERS

Feast Of The Immaculate Conception Homobonus

Maurice

CLOWNS

Genesius

Julian The Hospitaller

COMMUNISM, THOSE WHO FIGHT AGAINST IT

Joseph

COMPOSERS CECILIA

COMPUTERS, USERS, TECHNICIANS

Isidore Of Seville

CONFECTIONERS

Honorius Of Amiens Joseph

Lawrence

Macarius The Younger

CONFESSIONS, TO MAKE A GOOD ONE GERARD MAJELLA

John Nepomucene

CONFESSORS

Alphonsus Maria De Liguori John Mary Vianney

John Nepomucene

COACHMEN OF MILAN RICHARD OF CHICHESTER

CONGO; ZAIRE; BELGIAN CONGO IMMACULATE CONCEPTION OF MARY

COAL MINERS

Leonard Of Noblac

CONQUISTADORS JAMES THE GREATER

COFFEE HOUSE KEEPERS OR OWNERS DROGO

Nativity Of The Blessed Virgin

CONSCIENTIOUS OBJECTORS MARCELLUS

CONTEMPLATIVES, CONTEMPLATIVE LIFE JOHN OF THE CROSS

Mary Magdalen

CONVERTS

Afra

Alban

Anne Line

Boniface Of Tarsus Caedwalla

Charles Lwanga

Edwin

Flora

Genesius

Helena

Hermengild

Joseph Of Palestine Lucian

Ludmila

Marcian

Margaret Clitherow Natalia

Olga

Philemon

Theodota

Vladimir

COUGHS; AGAINST BLAISE

Quentin

Walburga

COUNCIL HOLY SPIRIT

CUSTOMS OFFICERS MATTHEW THE APOSTLE

CUTLERS

Eligius

Lawrence

Lucy Of Syracuse

COUNCILMEN

Nicholas Of Flue

CUTTERS

John The Baptist

COUNTESSES

Elizabeth Of Hungary

CYPRUS BARNABAS

COUNTRY GIRLS, PEASANT GIRLS, GERMAINE COUSIN

COUNTS

Charles The Good Gerald Of Aurillac

COURT CLERKS, COURT WORKERS THOMAS MORE

COURTIERS GUMMARUS

CZECHOSLOVAKIA, CZECH REPUBLIC ADALBERT

Cyril

John Nepomucene

Ludmila

Methodius

Procopius

Sigismund

Vitus

Wenceslaus

DAIRY WORKERS BRIGID OF IRELAND

CONVULSIONS

John The Baptist Willibrord

CONVULSIVE CHILDREN JOHN THE BAPTIST

Scholastica

COOKS

Lawrence

Macarius The Younger

Martha

Nativity Of The Blessed Virgin Pascal Baylon

COWHERDS GUMMARUS

CRAFTSMEN ELIGIUS

Joseph

CRAFTSMEN WHO WORK WITH A WHEEL (POTTERS, SPINNERS, ETC.)

Catherine Of Alexandria

CRAMPS, AGAINST MAURICE

Pancras

COOPERS, BARREL MAKERS

Abdon

Feast Of The Immaculate Conception Florian

Leonard Of Noblac

Michael The Archangel

Nicholas Of Myra

Senen

Urban Of Langres

COPPERSMITHS

Benedict

Eulogius Of Cordoba Leonard Of Noblac Maurus

CRETE TITUS

CROPS, PROTECTION OF ANSOVINUS

CANONS REGULAR OF THE ORDER OF THE HOLY CROSS; CROSIER ORDER

Odilia

CRUSADERS

Charles The Good

Louis IX

CUBA

Our Lady Of Charity Of El Cobre Virgin De Regla

CORN CHANDLERS HONORIUS OF AMIENS

CURRIERS

Simon The Apostle

DALMATIA BLAISE

DANCERS GENESIUS PHILEMON VITUS

DANGER AT SEA ERASMUS

DEACONS

Lawrence

Marinus

Stephen The Martyr

DEAD, RECENTLY

Gertrude Of Nivelles

DEAF PEOPLE, DEAFNESS, HEARING IMPAIRED,

HEARING IMPAIRMENT

Drogo

Francis De Sales

Ouen

DEATH BY ARTILLERY, AGAINST BARBARA

DEATH OF CHILDREN

Alphonsa Hawthorne

Angela Of Foligno

Clotilde

Concepcion Cabrera De Annida Cyriacus Of Iconium

Dorothy Of Montau

Elizabeth Of Hungary Elizabeth Ann Seton

Felicity

Frances Of Rome

Hedwig

Isidore The Farmer

Joaquina Vedruna De Mas Julitta

Leopold The Good

Louis IX

Luchesius

Margaret Of Scotland Marguerite d’Youville Matilda

Melania The Younger Michelina

Nonna

Perpetua

Stephen Of Hungary

Angela Merici

Gerald Of Aurillac Germaine Cousin Giles

Henry II

Lutgardis

Margaret Of Castello Seraphina

Servulus

Our Lady Of High Grace

DOUBT, INVOKED BY THOSE IN; AGAINST DOUBT

Joseph

Thomas The Apostle

DOVES

David Of Wales

DISAPPOINTING CHILDREN CLOTILDE

Louise De Marillac

Matilda

Monica

DISASTERS GENEVIEVE

DISCRETION

John Of Nepomucene

DRAPERS

Nativity Of The Blessed Virgin Severus

DROUGHT RELIEF CATALD

Godeberta

Herbert

Solange

Swithun

DEATH, HAPPY JOSEPH

DEATH, HOLY

Andrew Avellino

Christopher

Joseph

Michael The Archangel Ursula

DISTILLERS

Louis IX

Nativity Of The Blessed Virgin

DROWNING VICTIMS; AGAINST DROWNING ADJUTOR

Florian

Romanus Of Condat

DIVORCED PEOPLE ALPHONSA HAWTHORNE FABIOLA

Guntramnus

Helena

DEATH, SUDDEN—AGAINST ALDEGUNDIS

Andrew Avellino

Barbara

Christopher

DENMARK ANSKAR

Canute

DOCK WORKERS, LONGSHOREMEN NICHOLAS OF MYRA

DOCTORS, PHYSICIANS COSMAS

Damian

Luke The Apostle

Pantaleon

Raphael The Archangel

DRUG ADDICTION

Maximillian Kolbe

DRUGGISTS, PHARMACISTS, COSMAS

Damian

Gemma Galgani

James The Greater

James The Lesser

Nicholas Of Myra

Raphael The Archangel

DUCHESSES HEDWIG

Ludmila

DENTISTS APOLLONIA

DEVIL, AGAINST

Dionysius The Aeropagite

DEVOTEES TO THE SACRED HEART MARGARET MARY ALACOQUE

DIETICIANS MARTHA

DIFFICULT SITUATIONS EUSTACHIUS

Dijon

BENIGNUS OF DIJON DIPLOMATS

Gabriel The Archangel

DISABLED PEOPLE, HANDICAPPED PEOPLE, PHYSICALLY CHALLENGED

Alphais

DOG BITES, AGAINST DOG ATTACKS HUBERT OF LIEGE

Vitus

Walburga

DUKES HENRY II

DUBLIN, IRELAND KEVIN

DOGS, DOG FANCIERS HUBERT OF LIEGE

Roch

Vitus

Domestic Animals Ambrose Of Milan Anthony Of Padua Anthony The Abbott Cornelius

Gerlac Of Valkenburg Domestic Workers Zita

Dominican Republic Dominic De Guzman

Dyers, Cloth Dyers, Purplers Lydia Purpuraria

Maurice

DYING PEOPLE, INVOKED BY BARBARA

Benedict

Catherine Of Alexandria James The Lesser

John Of God

Joseph

Margaret Of Antioch

Michael The Archangel Nicholas Of Tolentino Sebastian

DYSENTERY

Lucy Of Syracuse Polycarp Of Smyrna

EARACHE, INVOKED AGAINST CORNELIUS

Polycarp Of Smyrna

Earthquakes, Invoked Against Agatha

Emidius

Francis Borgia

Gregory Thaumaturgus

ENGINEERS

Ferdinand III Of Castille Joseph

Patrick

ENGLAND

Augustine Of Canterbury

Cuthbert

George

Gregory The Great

Our Lady Of Mount Carmel At Aylesford Our Lady Of Walsingham

EUROPE

Benedict

Bridget Of Sweden

Catherine Of Siena

Cyril

Methodius

Teresa Benedicta Of The Cross

EVANGELISTS

Paul The Apostle

EXCLUDED PEOPLE PATRICK

EAST INDIES

Francis Xavier

Thomas The Apostle

ECOLOGISTS, ECOLOGY FRANCIS OF ASSISI

ECUADOR

Our Lady Of Quinche Sacred Heart Of Jesus

ECUMENISTS, ECUMENISM, UNITY OF THE EASTERN AND WESTERN CHURCHES CYRIL

Methodius

EDINBURGH SCOTLAND GILES

EDITORS

John Bosco

John The Apostle

EGYPT

Mark The Evangelist

EL SALVADOR

Our Lady Of Peace

ELDERLY PEOPLE ANTHONY OF PADUA

EMBROIDERERS, NEEDLE WORKERS CLARE OF ASSISI

Louis IX

Parasceva

Rose Of Lima

EMIGRANTS

Frances Xavier Cabrini

EMPRESSES ADELAIDE

Helena

Pulcheria

ENGRAVERS

John The Apostle Thiemo

ENLIGHTENMENT

Holy Spirit

Our Lady Of Good Counsel

EPIDEMICS GODEBERTA ROCH

EQUATORIAL GUINEA

Our Lady Of The Immaculate Conception

ERGOTISM (SAINT ANTONY’S FIRE), INVOKED AGAINST

Anthony The Abbot

Erysipelas

Benedict Ida Of Nivelles

EPILEPSY, EPILEPTICS ANTHONY THE ABBOT BALTHASAR

Bibiana

Catald

Cornelius

Dymphna

Genesius

Gerard Of Lunel

Giles

John Chrysostom John The Baptist

Valentine

Vitus

Willibrord

ESCAPE FROM DEVILS MARGARET OF ANTIOCH

ETHIOPIA FRUMENTIUS

EXILES; PEOPLE IN EXILE ADELAIDE

Angela Truszkowska

Arthelais

Clotilde

Elizabeth Of Hungary Jeanne Marie De Maille Joaquina Vedruna De Mas Kateri Tekakwitha

Margaret Of Antioch Melania The Younger Pulcheria

Rose Of Viterbo

Susanna

EXPECTANT MOTHERS, PREGNANT WOMEN, PREGNANCY

Anne

Anthony Of Padua

Gerard Majella

Margaret Of Antioch

Raymond Nonnatus

EXPEDITIOUS OR PROMPT SOLUTIONS EXPEDITUS

EXPLOSIONS, AGAINST BARBARA

EYES, EYE DISEASES, EYE PROBLEMS , SORE EYES

Aloysius Gonzaga

Augustine Of Hippo

Clare Of Assisi

Cyriacus Of Iconium

Herve

Lucy Of Syracuse

Raphael The Archangel

FAINTING, FAINTNESS URBAN OF LANGRES URSUS OF RAVENNA VALENTINE

ENEMIES OF RELIGION, AGAINST SEBASTIAN

EUCHARISTIC CONGRESSES AND ORGANIZATIONS

Pascal Baylon

FAITH IN THE BLESSED SACRAMENT ANTHONY OF PADUA

ENEMY PLOTS, AGAINST DRAUSINUS

FALSLEY ACCUSED PEOPLE BLANDINA

Dominic De Guzman Dominic Savio

Elizabeth Of Hungary Elizabeth Of Portugal Helen Of Skofde

Margaret Of Antioch Margaret Of Cortona Marinus

Matilda

Philip Howard

Raymond Nonnatus Roch

Serenus

FARRIERS

Eligius

John The Baptist

FATHERS JOACHIM JOSEPH

FEAR OF INSECTS GRATUS OF AOSTA

FEAR OF MICE

Gertrude Of Nivelles

FEAR OF NIGHT GILES

Francis Of Paola Lawrence

FIREFIGHTERS

Barbara

Catherine Of Siena Eustachius

Florian

John Of God

FIREWORKS MANUFACTURERS BARBARA

FIRST COMMUNICANTS IMELDA

Tarcisius

FAMILIES

Francis Of Assisi Joseph

Maximillian Kolbe

FAMILIES, LARGE; PARENTS OF ADALBALD OF OSTREVANT

Adelaide

Clotilde

Dagobert II

Dorothy Of Montau

Edwin

Ferdinand III Of Castille Ivetta Of Huy

Leonidas

Leopold

Louis IX

Margaret Of Scotland

Matilda

Nicholas Of Flue

Richard Gwyn

Thomas More

Vladimir

FAMILY HAPPINESS DYMPHNA

Ksenya Blazhennaya

FAMILY LIFE

Infant Jesus Of Prague

FAMINE, AGAINST WALBURGA

FARMERS, FARM WORKERS, AGRICULTURAL WORKERS, FIELD HANDS, HUSBANDMEN, FIELD WORKERS

Benedict

Bernard Of Vienne

Eligius

George

Isidore The Farmer

Notburga

Phocas The Gardener

Watstan

FEAR OF RATS

Gertrude Of Nivelles

FISH NEOT

FEAR OF SNAKES PATRICK

FEAR OF WASPS FRIARD

FISH DEALERS, FISHMONGERS ANDREW THE APOSTLE

Assumption Of The Blessed Virgin Magnus

Nativity Of The Blessed Virgin

FENCING

Michael The Archangel

FERRYMEN

Julian The Hospitaller

FEVER

Antonius Of Florence Benedict

Cornelius

Dominic Of Sora

Domitian

Genevieve

Gerebernus

Gertrude Of Nivelles Hugh Of Cluny

Peter The Apostle

FISHERMEN, ANGLERS ANDREW THE APOSTLE ANTHONY OF PADUA NICHOLAS OF MYRA

Our Lady Of Salambao Peter The Apostle Zeno Of Verona

Fistula

Fiacre

Fleury-Sur-Loire

Drogo

FLOODS

Christopher

Florian

Gregory Thaumaturgus John Of Nepomucene

FIDDLERS, FIDDLE PLAYERS JULIAN THE HOSPITALLER

FINAL PERSEVERANCE

Alphonsus Maria De Liguori

FINANCES, GOOD

INFANT JESUS OF PRAGUE FINANCIAL OFFICERS MATTHEW THE APOSTLE

FLORISTS

Dorothy Of Caesarea Fiacre

Honorius Of Amiens Rose Of Lima

Therese Of Lisieux

FLOUR MERCHANTS HONORIUS OF AMIENS

FINLAND

Henry Of Uppsalla

FLOWER GROWERS THERESE OF LISIEUX

FIRE, AGAINST; FIRE PREVENTION AGATHA

Barbara

Catherine Of Siena

Eustachius

Florian

FOOT PROBLEMS; FEET PROBLEMS PETER THE APOSTLE

FOREST WORKERS, FORESTERS, LUMBERJACKS, WOOD CUTTERS

Gummarus

Hubert Of Liege John Gualbert

Joseph Of Arimathea Lucy Of Syracuse Mark The Evangelist

FORESTS, WOODS, WOODLANDS GILES

FURRIERS

Hubert Of Liege James The Greater

FORGOTTEN PEOPLE JEANNE DE CHANTAL

FORTIFICATIONS BARBARA

GALL STONES

Benedict

Drogo

Florentius Of Strasburg

Gap

Arnulph

GLOVE MAKERS CRISPIAN

Crispin

Gummarus

Mary Magdalen

GOITRES BLAISE

FORTITUDE HOLY SPIRIT

FOUNDERS BARBARA

FOUNDLINGS HOLY INNOCENTS

FRANCE

Denis

Joan Of Arc

Laurent

Martin Of Tours

Notre Dame Cathedral Of Paris Notre Dame Of Chartres

Our Lady Of Lasallette

Our Lady Of Lourdes

Our Lady Of Pontmain

Our Lady Of The Assumption Our Lady Of The Miraculous Medal Remigius

Therese Of Liseux

GARAGE WORKERS, SERVICE STATION WORKERS

Eligius

GARDENERS

Adam

Adelard

Agnes Of Rome

Dorothy Of Caesarea Fiacre

Gertrude Of Nivelles Phocas The Gardener Rose Of Lima

Tryphon

Urban Of Langres

GEESE

Gall

Martin Of Tours

GOLDSMITHS, GOLD WORKERS ANASTASIUS THE FULLER

Bernward

Clare Of Assisi

Dunstan

Eligius

Nativity Of The Blessed Virgin

GOUT, INVOKED AGAINST ANDREW THE APOSTLE GEREBERNUS

Gregory The Great

Maurice

Maurus

GOVERNORS

Ferdinand III Of Castille

GRACE, INVOKED BY THOSE IN NEED OF TERESA OF AVILA

GEOLOGISTS BARBARA

GRANDFATHERS JOACHIM

FRANCISCAN LAITY DIDACUS

GEOMETRICIANS

Thomas The Apostle

GRANDMOTHERS ANNE

FREEDOM

Infant Jesus Of Prague

FRENZY, INVOKED AGAINST DENIS

Peter The Apostle

FRIENDSHIPS

John The Apostle Frost, Against Urban Of Langres

FRUIT DEALERS CHRISTOPHER

FUGITIVES

Brigid Of Ireland

FULLERS

Anastasius The Fuller Christopher

James The Lesser

GERMANY

Boniface

George

Michael

Our Lady Of Altotting Our Lady Of Kevelaer Peter Canisius

Swithbert

GILDERS

Clare Of Assisi Eligius

GIRLS

Agnes Of Rome

Catherine Of Alexandria Irene

Maria Goretti

GRANDPARENTS ANNE

Joachim

GRAVEDIGGERS

Anthony The Abbott Barbara

GREECE

Andrew The Apostle

George

Nicholas Of Myra

The Holy Mountain Of Our Lady

GREETINGS

Valentine

GROCERS, GREENGROCERS LEONARD OF NOBLAC

Michael The Archangel

GLASSWORKERS, GLASS MAKERS LUKE THE APOSTLE

FUNERAL DIRECTORS, UNDERTAKERS DISMAS

GLAZIERS

Lawrence

GROOMS, YOUNG LOUIS IX

Nicholas Of Myra

GUARDIAN ANGELS

Raphael The Archangel

HAYMAKERS GERVASE

Protase

HONDURAS

Our Lady Of Suyapa

GUARDS

Matthew The Apostle

GUARDIANS

Guntramnus

Joseph Of Palestine Mamas

GUATAMALA

James The Greater Our Lady Of The Rosary

HABERDASHERS

Louis IX

Michael The Archangel

HEADACHES

Acacius

Bibiana

Denis

Dionysius The Aeropagite Gerard Of Lunel

Gereon

Pancras

Stephen The Martyr

Teresa Of Avila

William Firmatus

HEALERS

Brigid Of Ireland

HORSE MEN, RIDERS, EQUESTRIANS GEORGE

Martin Of Tours

HORSES

Anthony Of Padua Colman Of Stockerau Eligius

George

Giles

Hippolytus

Leonard Of Noblac Martin Of Tours

Vincent De Paul

HAEMORRHOIDS, PILES FIACRE

HEALTH

Infant Jesus Of Prague

HORSES, SICK ELIGIUS

HAILSTORMS, AGAINST BARNABAS

Christopher

John The Baptist

Paul The Apostle

HEART PATIENTS JOHN OF GOD

HEMORRAHAGES LUCY OF SYRACUSE

HAIRDRESSERS, HAIRSTYLISTS COSMAS

Damian

Louis IX

Martin De Porres

Mary Magdalen

HANGING, AGAINST COLMAN OF STOCKERAU

HANGOVERS BIBIANA

HERMITS

Anthony The Abbott Giles

HERNIA

Catald

Conrad Of Piacenza Cosmas

Damian

Drogo

Gummarus

HAPPY MEETINGS

Raphael The Archangel

HARNESS MAKERS

Assumption Of The Blessed Virgin Eligius

HARVESTERS

Peter The Apostle

HERPES

George

HESITATION, AGAINST JOSEPH

HOARSENESS, AGAINST BERNADINE OF SIENA MAURUS

HOSIERS FIACRE

HOSPITALS

Camillus Of Lellis Elizabeth Of Hungary John Of God

Jude Thaddeus

Vincent De Paul

HOSPITAL ADMINISTRATORS BASIL THE GREAT

Frances Xavier Cabrini

HOSPITAL PUBLIC RELATIONS PAUL THE APOSTLE

HOSPITAL WORKERS CAMILLUS OF LELLIS JOHN OF GOD

Jude Thaddeus

Vincent De Paul

HOSPITALITY, HOSPITALLERS JULIAN THE HOSPITALLER HOUSE HUNTERS

Joseph

HUMAN RACE

Mary, Mother Of God

HARVESTS

Anthony Of Padua Florian

Walburga

HATMAKERS, MILLINERS BARBARA

Clement

James The Lesser

Michael The Archangel Severus

HOMELESS PEOPLE, HOBOES, TRAMPS BENEDICT JOSEPH LABRE

Edwin

Elizabeth Of Hungary

Lufthild

Margaret Of Cortona

HUNGARY

Astricus

Gerard Sagredo

Our Lady Of Hungary Stephen Of Hungary

HOMEMAKERS, HOUSEWIVES, HOUSEKEEPERS

Anne

Martha

Monica

Zita

HUNTERS, HUNTING, HUNTSMEN EUSTACHIUS

Hubert Of Liege

ICELAND

Thorlac Thorhallsson

IMMIGRANTS

Frances Xavier Cabrini

IMPENITENCE, AGAINST BARBARA

Mark The Evangelist Narcissus

Interior Souls Joseph

INTERNET, THE

Isidore Of Seville

IN-LAW PROBLEMS

Adelaide

Elizabeth Of Hungary Elizabeth Ann Seton Godelieve

Helen Of Skofde

Jeanne De Chantal

Jeanne Marie De Maille Ludmila

Marguerite d’Youville Michelina

Pulcheria

INCEST VICTIMS DYMPHNA

Laura Vicuna

Susanna

Winifred Of Wales

INTER-RACIAL JUSTICE, RACIAL HARMONY, RACE RELATIONS

Martin De Porres

Peter Claver

INVALIDS ROCH

INVINCIBLE PEOPLE; TO BECOME INVINCIBLE; CHAMPIONS

Drausinus

IRELAND

Brigid Of Ireland Columba

Our Lady Of Knock Our Lady Of Limerick Patrick

INDIA

Our Lady Of Bandel

Our Lady Of Bandra

Our Lady Of The Assumption Rose Of Lima

Thomas The Apostle

INDIANA

Our Lady Of Providence

INDISCRETIONS, AGAINST JOHN NEPOMUCENE

INFANTRYMEN MAURICE

IRON MONGERS, HARDWARE, HARDWARE STORES

Sebastian

ITALY

Basillica Of Saint Mary Major Bernadine Of Siena

Catherine Of Siena

Francis Of Assisi

Madonna Of Saint Luke Our Lady Of Loreto

Our Lady Of Perpetual Help Our Lady Of Pompeii

Our Lady Of Tears

Our Lady Of The Snow

INFLAMMATORY DISEASES, AGAINST BENEDICT

INNKEEPERS, HOTEL-KEEPERS AMAND

Goar

Julian The Hospitaller

Martha

Martin De Porres

Martin Of Tours

Theodatus

JAPAN

Francis Xavier

Our Lady Of Japan Peter Baptist

JAUNDICE ODILO

JEALOUSY, INVOKED AGAINST ELIZABETH OF PORTUGAL

Eligius

JOCKEYS ELIGIUS

JOURNALISTS

Francis De Sales Maximillian Kolbe

JUDGES

Ivo Of Kermartin John Of Capistrano Nicholas Of Myra

JUGGLERS

Julian The Hospitaller

JURISTS

Catherine Of Alexandria Ivo Of Kermartin

John Of Capistrano

JUVENILE DELINQUENTS DOMINIC SAVIO

KIDNAP VICTIMS ARTHELAIS

Dagobert II

Simon Of Trent

Wernher

William Of Norwich

KIDNEY DISEASE, AGAINST BENEDICT

Drogo

Margaret Of Antioch Ursus Of Ravenna

KINGS

Casimir Of Poland Dagobert II

Edgar

Edmund Of East Anglia Edward The Confessor Edwin

Henry II

Louis IX

Olaf II

Solomon

Stephen Of Hungary

Knees, Diseases Of Or Trouble With Roch

Innocence Hallvard

Jealousy, Victims Of Elizabeth Of Portugal Hedwig

Knife Grinders, Knife Sharpeners Catherine Of Alexandria

Inquisitors Peter Verona

Jesuit Students Aloysius Gonzaga

INSECT BITES

Felix

Mark The Apostle

JEWELERS AGATHA

Dunstan

KNIGHTS

Gengulphus

George

James The Greater Julian The Hospitaller Michael The Archangel

KNIGHTS HOSPITALLER JOHN THE ALMONER JOHN THE BAPTIST

KNOWLEDGE HOLY SPIRIT

KOREA

Joseph

Mary The Blessed Virgin

LABORERS

Eligius

Isidore The Farmer James The Greater John Bosco

Joseph

Lucy Of Syracuse

LAYWOMEN, SINGLE AGATHA

Alodia

Bibiana

Emiliana

Flora

Gudule

Julitta

Margaret Of Cortona Martha

Nunilo

Praxides

Syncletica

Tharsilla

Zita

LIONS

Mark The Evangelist

LITHOGRAPHERS JOHN THE APOSTLE

LITHUANIA

Casimir Of Poland Cunegundes

George

John Of Dukla

John Of Kanty

LITURGY

JOSEPH MARY TOMASI LEAD WORKERS SEBASTIAN

LIVESTOCK

ISIDORE THE FARMER LACEWORKERS, LACEMAKERS ANNE

Crispian

Crispin

Elizabeth Of Hungary

John Regis

Luke The Apostle

Sebastian

Teresa Of Avila

LAMBS, FOR THE PROTECTION OF JOHN THE BAPTIST

LAMP MAKERS

Our Lady Of Loretto

LEARNING

Acca

Ambrose Of Milan Nicholas Albergati Thomas Aquinas

LEATHER WORKERS, LEATHER CURRIERS BARTHOLOMEW THE APOSTLE

Crispin

Crispian

LECTORS

Bede The Venerable Pollio

Sabas

LAUNDRY WORKERS, WASHERWOMEN, LAUNDRESSES

Clare Of Assisi

Hunna

Lawrence

Martha

Veronica

LEGS, DISEASES OF SERVATUS

LEPROSY, LEPERS GEORGE

Giles

Vincent De Paul

LAWSUITS AGIA

LESOTHO

Immaculate Heart Of Mary

LAWSUITS LOST UNJUSTLY NICHOLAS OF MYRA

LAWYERS, ATTORNEYS, BARRISTERS GENESIUS

Ivo Of Kermartin

Mark The Evangelist

Raymond Of Penyafort

Thomas More

LIBRARIANS, ARCHIVISTS CATHERINE OF ALEXANDRIA JEROME

Lawrence

LIGHTENING

Barbara

Thomas Aquinas Victor

Vitus

Continued in Patron Saints N0.2

LAY BROTHERS GERARD MAJELLA

LAY PEOPLE

Frances Of Rome Paul The Apostle

LIGHTHOUSE KEEPERS DUNSTAN

Venerius

LINGUISTS GOTTESCHALK

LOCKSMITHS

Dunstan

Eligius

Leonard Of Noblac Peter The Apostle

LONELINESS, AGAINST RITA OF CASCIA

LODGINGS, TO OBTAIN WHILE TRAVELLING GERTRUDE OF NIVELLES

Julian The Hospitaller

MAIL

Anthony Of Padua

MARBLE WORKERS CLEMENT I

MALTA

Paul The Apostle

MARKET CARRIERS CHRISTOPHER

LONGEVITY, LONG LIFE PETER THE APOSTLE

MARONITES MARO

LOST ARTICLES

Anne

Anthony Of Padua Antony Of Pavoni Arnold

Phanurius

Vincent De Paul

LOST OR IMPOSSIBLE CAUSES, DESPERATE SITUATIONS

Jude Thaddeus

Gregory Thaumaturgus Phanurius

Philomena

Rita Of Cascia

LOST KEYS, AGAINST LOSING KEYS ZITA

LOST VOCATIONS GOTTESCHALK

James Intercisus Luchesius

LOVE, LOVERS

Dwynwen

Raphael The Archangel Valentine

MARRIAGES, DIFFICULT ALPHONSA HAWTHORNE CASTORA GABRIELLI

Catherine Of Genoa

Dorothy Of Montau

Edward The Confessor Elizabeth Of Portugal Fabiola

Gengulphus

Godelieve

Gummarus

Hedwig

Helena

Louis IX

Margaret The Barefooted Marguerite d’Youville Monica

Nicholas Of Flue

Olaf II

Pharaildis

Philip Howard

Radegunde

Rita Of Cascia

Theodore Of Sykeon Thomas More

Wilgefortis

Zedislava Berka

Cecilia

Dymphna

Felicity

Flora

Helen Of Skofde

Joan Of Arc

Laura Vicuna

Lucy Of Syracuse

Lucy De Freitas

Margaret Of Antioch Margaret Clitherow

Margaret Of Louvain Margaret Ward

Maria Goretti

Mary Hermina Grivot Mary Of Cordoba

Maura

Natalia

Nunilo

Perpetua

Susanna And Companions Teresa Benedicta

Theodota

Winifred Of Wales

MASONS, STONE MASONS, STONECUTTERS, STONE WORKERS

Barbara

Blaise

Clement I

Four Crowned Martyrs

Gregory The Great

Louis IX

Reinhold

Stephen Of Hungary

Stephen The Martyr

Thomas The Apostle

MATHEMATICIANS BARBARA

Hubert Of Liege

MECHANICS

Catherine Of Alexandria

LUMBAGO LAWRENCE

LUXEMBOURG

Cunegundes

Mary, Comforter Of The Afflicted Philip The Apostle

Willibrord

MARRIAGES, HAPPY VALENTINE

MARRIAGES, SECOND ADELAIDE

Matilda

MARRIED WOMEN, WIVES MONICA

MEDICAL RECORD LIBRARIANS RAYMOND OF PENAFORT

MEDICAL SOCIAL WORKERS JOHN REGIS

MEDICAL TECHNICIANS ALBERTUS MAGNUS

MACEDONIA

Clement Of Ohrid

MACHINISTS

Hubert Of Liege

MAGAZINES (AMMUNITION) BARBARA

Magistrates

Ferdinand III Of Castile Nicholas Of Flue

MAIDS ZITA

MARTYRS, MURDERED AS CONFESSORS OF THE FAITH OR FOR MORAL INTEGRITY AFRA

Agatha

Agatha Kim

Agostina Pietrantoni

Alodia

Amparo Carboneli

Anastasia

Antonia Messina

Barbara

Britta

Carmen Moreno

MENTAL ASYLUMS, MENTAL HOSPITALS, MENTAL HEALTH PROFESSIONALS, MENTAL HEALTH CAREGIVERS

Dymphna

MENTAL HANDICAPS, MENTALLY ILL PEOPLE, MENTAL ILLNESS, INSANITY, MADNESS BENEDICT JOSEPH LABRE

Bibiana

Drogo

Dymphna

Eustochium Of Padua

Fillan

Giles

Margaret Of Cortona Maria Fortunata Viti Michelina

Osmund

Raphaela

Romanus Of Condat Veran

MERCHANTS

Expeditus

Francis Of Assisi Nicholas Of Myra Eligius

Leonard Of Noblac Piran

MINTERS, MINTING, NUMISMATICS ELIGIUS

MISCARRIAGES, INVOKED AGAINST CATHERINE OF SIENA

Catherine Of Sweden

Eulalia

MISFORTUNE

Agricola Of Avignon

MERCHANTS MENAS

MESSENGERS

Gabriel The Archangel

MOTORCYCLISTS

Our Lady Of Grace

MOTORWAYS

John The Baptist

MOUNTAIN CLIMBERS, MOUNTAINEERS BERNARD OF MENTHON

MULATTOES, MIXED-RACE PEOPLE, BI-RACIAL PEOPLE

Martin Of Porres

MURDERERS

Caedwalla

Guntramnus

Julian The Hospitaller Nicholas Of Myra Solomon

Vladimir

MISSIONARIES

Francis Xavier

Therese Of Lisieux

MISSIONARY BISHOPS PAUL THE APOSTLE METAL COLLECTORS,

PRECIOUS METAL COLLECTORS ELIGIUS

METAL WORKERS

Eligius

MEXICO

Joseph

Our Lady Of Guadalupe

MICE, INVOKED AGAINST GERTRUDE OF NIVELLES SERVATUS

MISSIONS, BLACK; AFRICAN MISSIONS BENEDICT THE BLACK

Francis Xavier

Peter Claver

Therese Of Lisieux

MISSIONS, FOREIGN FRANCIS XAVIER

Infant Jesus Of Prague Peter Claver

Therese Of Lisieux

MUSIC

Arnold

Cecilia

MUSICIANS

Benedict Biscop Cecilia

Dunstan

Gregory The Great Notkar Balbulus Paul The Apostle

MUSICIANS, WANDERING JULIAN THE HOSPITALLER

MIDWIVES

Brigid Of Ireland Cosmas

Damian

Drogo

Margaret Of Cortona Raymund Nonnatus

MISSIONS, PARISH

Francis Xavier

Leonard Of Port Maurice Therese Of Lisieux

MONACO DEVOTA

MUSICAL INSTRUMENT MAKERS CECILIA

MUTENESS, MUTES, MUTE PEOPLE, DUMBNESS

Drogo

MIGRAINE

Gereon

Ubaldus Baldassini

Monastic Life John The Baptist

Mystics, Mystical Theology John Of The Cross

Money Managers Matthew The Apostle

Nail Makers Cloud

Military Chaplains John Of Capistrano

Military Engineers Barbara

Milk, Loss Of

Margaret Of Antioch

MILLERS

Arnold

Arnulph

Catherine Of Alexandria Victor

MINE COLLAPSE, AGAINST BARBARA

MINERS ANNE

Barbara

MONKS

Anthony The Abbott Benedict

MORAVIA CYRIL

Methodius Wenceslaus

MOTHERHOOD

Blessed Virgin Mary Gerard Majella

MOTHERS

Anne

Gerard Majella Monica

NATIVE AMERICANS, AMERICAN INDIANS ANTHONY OF PADUA

NATIVE RIGHTS

Turibius Of Morgoveio

NATIVE TRADITIONS ALSONSO RODRIGUEZ JUAN DE CASTILLO ROCCO GONZALEZ

NATURAL DISASTERS AGATHA

NAVAL OFFICERS FRANCIS OF PAOLA

NAVIGATORS ERASMUS

Expeditus

Francis Xavier

Our Lady, Star Of The Sea

THE NEDERLANDS, HOLLAND BAVO

Plechelm

Willibrord

NEEDLE MAKERS

Nativity Of The Blessed Virgin

NERVOUS DISEASES, AGAINST BARTHOLOMEW THE APOSTLE

NETTLE RASH, AGAINST BENEDICT

NEURALGIA

Ubaldus Baldassini

NEUROLOGICAL DISORDERS DYMPHNA

NEW WORLD ROSE OF LIMA

NURSING MOTHERS CONCORDIA

NURSING SERVICES CATHERINE OF SIENA ELIZABETH OF HUNGARY

OATHS PANCRAS

OBSESSION

Quirinus

OCEANIA

Mary, Queen Of Peace Peter Chanel

OIL REFINERS

Honorius Of Amiens

OLD-CLOTHES DEALERS ANNE

OLD MAIDS, SPINSTERS, UNMARRIED GIRLS, MAIDENS

Andrew The Apostle

Catherine Of Alexandria

Nicholas Of Myra

Luke The Apostle

PAKISTAN

Thomas The Apostle

PALESTINE GEORGE

PALESTINIAN CHRISTIANS GEORGE

PAPERMAKERS JOHN THE APOSTLE

PARAGUAY

Our Lady Of The Assumption

PAPUA, NEW GUINEA MICHAEL THE ARCHANGEL

PARALYSIS, PARALYSED PEOPLE CATALD

Osmund

Wolfgang

PARATROOPERS, AIRBORNE MICHAEL THE ARCHANGEL NEW ZEALAND

OUR LADY HELP OF CHRISTIANS OPEN SORES

Peregrine Laziosi

PARENTHOOD RITA OF CASCIA NEWLYWEDS

Nicholas Of Myra

NEWS DEALERS

Annunciation Of The Blessed Virgin

NICARAGUA

James The Greater

NIGERIA PATRICK

OPPOSITION OF CHURCH AUTHORITIES ELIZABETH ANN SETON

Joan Of Arc

Margaret Hallahan

Marguerite d’Youville

Mary Mackillop

Mary Magdalena Bentivoglio Rose Philippine Duchesne

Raphaela

Teresa Of Avila

NIGHTMARES

Raphael The Archangel

OPPRESSED PEOPLE ANTHONY OF PADUA

NORTH AFRICA

Cyprian Of Carthage

NORWAY OLAF II

NOTARIES

Genesius Of Arles Ivo Of Kermartin Luke The Apostle Mark The Evangelist

NURSES

Agatha

Alexius

Camillus Of Lellis

Catherine Of Alexandria Catherine Of Siena

John Of God

Margaret Of Antioch Raphael The Archangel

ORATORS, SPEAKERS, LECTURERS JOHN CHRYSOSTOM

Justin Martyr

ORPHANS

Aurelius

Dagobert II

Drogo

Frances Xavier Cabrini Ivo Of Kermartin

Jerome Emiliani

Mamas

Pulcheria

PAIN, AGAINST; CURES FROM PAIN MADRON

PAINTERS

Benedict Biscop

Bernward

Catherine Of Bologna John The Apostle

PARENTS, LOSS OF (MOTHER, FATHER) ALPHONSA HAWTHORNE

Alphonsa Of India

Angela Merici

Colette

Dymphna

Elizabeth Of The Trinity

Elizabeth Ann Seton

Frances Scherviers

Gemma Galgani

Germaine Cousin

Humbeline

Jeanne De Chantal

Jeanne Marie De Maille

Kateri Tekawitha

Laura Vicuna

Louise De Marillac

Margaret Of Cortona

Margaret Mary Alacoque

Margaret Hallahan

Marguerite Bourgeous

Marguerite d’Youville

Maria Bagnesi

Maria Fortunata Viti

Maria Gabriella

Maria Goretti

Mariana Of Quito

Marie Of The Incarnation

Marie Rose Durocher

Pulcheria

Radegunde

Rafka Al-Rayes

Raphaela

Sibyllina Biscossi

Susanna

Syncletica

Teresa Of Avila Teresa Benedicta Therese Of Lisieux

PARENTS SEPARATED FROM CHILDREN JEANNE DE CHANTAL

Marie Of The Incarnation

PARIS, FRANCE DENIS

Genevieve

PARISH CLERKS NICHOLAS OF MYRA MARGUERITE D’YOUVILLE MARY MAGDALEN

Matilda

Nunilo

Rose Of Lima

Susanna

Teresa Of Avila

Teresa Maria Of The Cross Zedislava Berka

Zita

PERFUMERIES, PERFUMERS MARY MAGDALEN

Nicholas Of Myra

PARK SERVICES JOHN GUALBERT

PERJURY, LIES, FALSEHOOD FELIX OF NOLA

Pancras

PLAGUE, PLAGUE EPIDEMICS, AGAINST PLAGUE

Agricola Of Avignon

Catald

Cuthbert

Edmund Of East Anglia

Francis Of Paola

Francis Xavier

George

Gregory The Great

Macarius Of Antioch

Roch

Sebastian

Valentine

Walburga

PLASTERERS

Bartholomew The Apostle

PASTRY CHEFS

Honorius Of Amiens Macarius The Younger Pavement Workers Vincent Ferrer

PAWNBROKERS

Bernardine Of Feltre Nicholas Of Myra

PERSIA

Maruthas

PLAYING CARD MANUFACTURERS BALTHASAR

PERU

Joseph

Martin De Porres

Rose Of Lima

Turibius Of Mogroveio

PEACE; PEACEMAKER, INVOKED AS

Barnabas

Elizabeth Of Portugal Infant Jesus Of Prague Irene

PESTILENCE, RELIEF FROM ALOYSIUS GONZAGA

Anthony The Abbott Cosmas

Damian

Roch

PLUMBERS

Vincent Ferrer

POETS

Brigid Of Ireland Cecilia

Columba

David

POISON, AGAINST; POISONING BENEDICT

John The Apostle

Pirmin

PEADER, PEOPLE NAMED PETER NAME FILE

PEWTERERS FIACRE

POISONOUS SNAKES

PAUL THE APOSTLE PEASANTS

Lucy Of Syracuse Margaret Of Antioch

PENCIL MAKERS THOMAS AQUINAS

PENITENT WOMEN AFRA

Margaret Of Cortona Mary Magdalen

Mary Of Egypt

PEOPLE RIDICULED FOR THEIR PIETY AGOSTINA PIETRANTONI

Alodia

Angela Of Foligno

Bernadette Of Lourdes

Catherine Of Genoa

Catherine Of Siena

Clelia Barbieri

Elizabeth Of Hungary

Elizabeth Ann Seton

Frances Of Rome

Jacinta Marto

Jeanne Marie De Maille

Joan Of Arc

Kateri Tekakwitha

Margaret Of Cortona

PHILIPPINES

Our Lady Of Safe Travel Our Lady Of The Turumba Rose Of Lima

Sacred Heart Of Mary

PHILOSOPHERS

Catherine Of Alexandria Justin Martyr

Thomas Aquinas

POLAND

Adalbert Of Prague

Casimir Of Poland

Cunegundes

Florian

Hyacinth

John Of Kanty

Our Lady Of Czestochowa Stanislaus Of Cracow

PIETY

Holy Spirit

PILGRIMS

Alexius

Benedict Joseph Labre Faith

Gertrude Of Nivelles James The Greater Julian The Hospitaller Nicholas Of Myra Pius X

PIN MAKERS

Nativity Of The Blessed Virgin

PIONEERS JOSEPH

POLICE OFFICERS

Michael The Archangel Sebastian

POLITICAL PRISONERS MAXIMILIAN KOLBE

POOR PEOPLE, PAUPERS ANTHONY OF PADUA

Ferdinand III Of Castille Giles

Lawrence

Nicholas Of Myra

POPES, PAPACY

Gregory The Great Peter The Apostle

PORK BUTCHERS AND PROCESSORS TRANSFIGURATION OF OUR LORD

PORTERS

Christopher

Leonard Of Noblac Theobald Roggeri

PORTUGAL

Anthony Of Padua

Francis Borgia

George

Our Lady Of Fatima

Our Lady Of The Immaculate Conception

Vincent Of Saragossa

POSSESSED PEOPLE; DEMONIC POSSESSION BRUNO

Denis

Dymphna

Lucian

Marcian

Margaret Of Fontana

Quirinus

Ubaldus Baldassini

PRINCES

Boris

Casimir Of Poland Gleb

Gotteschalk

PRINCESSES ADELAIDE DYMPHNA BRUNO OF QUEFORT DOROTHY OF MONTAU JUTTA KULMSEE

PSYCHIATRISTS DYMPHNA

PUBLIC HEALTH MARTIN DE PORRES

PRINTERS

Augustine Of Hippo Genesius

John Of God

John The Baptist

PRINTING PRESSES BRIGID OF IRELAND

PRISONS

Joseph Cafasso

PRISON OFFICERS, PRISON WORKERS, PRISON GUARDS

Hippolytus

PUBLIC RELATIONS WORK, PUBLIC RELATIONS PERSONNEL BERNADINE OF SIENA

Paul The Apostle

PUERTO RICO

MARY, OUR LADY OF PROVIDENCE PURGATORY, SOULS IN

Nicholas Of Tolentino

Odilo

PURSE MAKERS BRIEUC

QUARTERMASTERS MARTIN OF TOURS

POSTAL WORKERS, POSTAL SERVICES, POST OFFICES

Gabriel The Archangel

POTTERS

Catherine Of Alexandria

Goar

Justa

Nativity Of The Blessed Virgin Spyridon

POVERTY OR IMPOVERISHMENT, AGAINST AGOSTINA PIETRANTONI

Anne

Armogastes

Bernadette Of Lourdes

Cuthman

Germaine Cousin

Julia Billiart

Macrina The Elder

Marguerite Bourgeous

Margaret Of Castello

Maria Fortunata Viti

Maria Gabriella

Maria Goretti

Marie Of The Incarnation

Martin Of Tours

Pauline-Marie Jaricot

Regina

Saturus

Soledad

PRISONERS, IMPRISONMENT, CAPTIVES ADELAIDE

Barbara

Beatrice Da Silva

Charles Of Blois

Dismas

Faith

Ferdinand III Of Castille

Jacinta Marto

Joan Of Arc

Joseph Cafasso

Leonard Of Noblac

Louis IX

Mark The Evangelist

Maximillian Kolbe

Nicholas Of Myra

Vincent De Paul

QUEBEC

Anne

John Baptiste

QUEENS

Clotilde

Elizabeth Of Portugal Hedwig, Queen Of Poland Margaret Of Scotland Matilda

RABIES, HYDROPHOBIA, MAD DOGS HUBERT OF LIEGE

Otto Of Bamberg

Sithney

Walburga

PRISONERS OF WAR, P.O.W.’S LEONARD OF NOBLAC

RACQUET MAKERS SEBASTIAN

PRISONERS ON DEATH ROW, CONDEMNED PRISONERS, DEATH ROW INMATES DISMAS

PRO-LIFE MOVEMENT

Gerard Majella

Maximillian Kolbe

PROLONGED SUFFERING LYDWINA OF SCHIEDAM

PROPAGATION OF THE FAITH FRANCIS XAVIER

RADIO

Gabriel The Archangel

RADIO WORKERS

Gabriel The Archangel

RADIOLOGISTS, RADIOTHERAPISTS MICHAEL THE ARCHANGEL

RAIN, AGAINST

Eulalia

Theodore Of Sykeon

PREACHERS

Catherine Of Alexandria John Chrysostom

PRECISION INSTRUMENT MAKERS HUBERT OF LIEGE

Priests, Parish Priests

John Mary Vianney

PROSTITUTES, REFORMED MARGARET OF CORTONA MARY MAGDALEN

Mary Of Egypt

PRUSSIA

Adalbert Of Prague

RAIN, FOR

Agricola Of Avignon Eulalia

Heribert Of Cologne Isidore The Farmer Odo

Theodore Of Sykeon

RAMS GILES

RAPE VICTIMS AGATHA

Agnes Of Rome Antonia Messina Dymphna

Joan Of Arc

Maria Goretti Pierina Morosini Potamiaena

Solange

Zita

ROME

Lawrence

Paul The Apostle Peter The Apostle Philip Neri

ROPE MAKERS PAUL THE APOSTLE

RUNAWAYS ALODIA

Dymphna Eulalia

SAINT VITUS’S DANCE NERVOUS DISORDER VITUS

SALESMEN

Lucy Of Syracuse

SALMON KENTIGERN

SALTPETRE WORKERS BARBARA

SAWMEN, SAWYERS BALTHASAR

Simon The Apostle

RATS, INVOKED AGAINST GERTRUDE OF NIVELLES MARTIN OF PORRES

Servatus

REFORMERS

Basil The Great

REJECTED BY RELIGIOUS ORDERS BENEDICT JOSEPH LABRE

Clare

Eugenie Smet

Henry II

Jeanne De Lestonnac

Joseph Moscati

Louise De Marillac

Margaret Of Castello

Marguerite Bourgeous

Mariana Of Quito

Rose Of Viterbo

Teresa De Gesu

Thecla Merlo

RELIGIOUS, PEOPLE IN RELIGIOUS ORDERS BENEDICT

Teresa Of Avila

RUPTURES, AGAINST

Drogo

Flortentius Of Strasburg Osmund

RURAL COMMUNITIES ISIDORE THE FARMER

RUNNING WATER JOHN NEPOMUCENE

RUSSIA

Andrew The Apostle Basil The Great

Nicholas Of Myra Therese Of Lisieux Vladimir I Of Kiev

SACRISTANS

Guy Of Anderlecht

SADDLERS, SADDLEMAKERS CRISPIN

Crispian

Eligius

George

Paul The Apostle

SCANDINAVIA ANSKAR

SCHOLARS, ACADEMICS BRIGID OF IRELAND

Catherine Of Alexandria Nicholas Of Myra

Thomas Aquinas

SCHOOLCHILDREN, STUDENTS

Albertus Magnus

Ambrose Of Milan

Benedict

Catherine Of Alexandria

Gabriel Of The Sorrowful Mother Gregory The Great

Jerome

John Bosco

Joseph Calasanz

Isidore Of Seville

Lawrence

Nicholas Of Myra

Thomas Aquinas

Ursula

SCHOOL PRINCIPALS

JOHN BAPTIST DE LA SALLE RESTAURANTEURS

Lawrence

Nativity Of The Blessed Virgin

RESTORATION OF RELIGIOUS FREEDOM IN RUSSIA

Therese Of Lisieux

RETREATS

Ignatius Of Loyola

RIBBON MAKERS

Annunciation Of The Blessed Virgin

RIGHT TO LIFE GROUPS MARGARET OF CASTELLO

AGAINST ROBBERS, ROBBERY, BRIGANDS, OR BRIGANDAGE

Leonard Of Noblac

Nicholas Of Myra

SAILORS, MARINERS, BOATMEN, WATERMEN

Anthony Of Padua

Barbara

Brendan The Navigator

Brigid Of Ireland

Christopher

Clement I

Cuthbert

Erasmus

Eulalia

Francis Of Paola

John Roche

Julian The Hospitaller

Michael The Archangel

Nicholas Of Myra

Nicholas Of Tolentino

Peter Gonzales

Phocas The Gardener

Walburga

SCHOOLS (ALL), COLLEGES, UNIVERSITIES CONTARDO FERRINI

Infant Jesus Of Prague

Joseph Calasanz

Thomas Aquinas

SCHOOLS, CATHOLIC; CATHOLIC ACADEMIES THOMAS AQUINAS

Ursula

SCHOOLS FOR THE POOR JOSEPH CALASANZ

SCIENCES, NATURAL ALBERTUS MAGNUS

SCIENTISTS

Albertus Magnus Dominic De Guzman

ROMANIA NICETAS

SAINT VINCENT DE PAUL SOCIETIES VINCENT DE PAUL

SCOTLAND

Andrew The Apostle Columba

Margaret Of Scotland

Palladius Pelagia Of Antioch

SCROFULOUS DISEASES, STRUMA BALBINA

Marculf

Mark The Evangelist

SCULPTORS

Bernward

Castorus

Claudius

Four Crowned Martyrs Louis IX

Luke The Apostle

Nicostratus

Simpronian

SCURF, AGAINST GENESIUS OF ARLES

SEAMSTRESSES ANNE

SEASICKNESS ERASMUS

SECRETARIES

Genesius Of Arles

SHEEP DROGO

SHEPHERDESSES

Bernadette Of Lourdes Germaine Cousin

Regina

Solange

SHEPHERDS

Bernadette Of Lourdes Cuthbert

Cuthman

Drogo

Julian The Hospitaller

SHIPWRECK, AGAINST ANTHONY OF PADUA

SHOEMAKERS, COBBLERS BARTHOLOMEW THE APOSTLE CRISPIN

Crispian

Maurus

Peter The Apostle

Theobald Roggeri

Lydwina Of Schiedam Margaret Hallahan

Maria Bagnesi

Maria Gabriella

Maria Mazzarello

Mariana Of Quito

Marie Rose Durocher Mary Magdalen Of Pazzi Michael The Archangel Our Lady Of Lourdes Paula Frassinetti

Peregrine Laziosi

Philomena

Rafka Al-Rayes

Raphaela

Romula

Syncletica

Teresa Of Avila

Teresa Valse Pantellini Terese Of The Andes Therese Of Lisieux

SILENCE

John Nepomucene

SILK WORKERS

Nativity Of The Blessed Virgin Severus

SECURITY GUARDS, SECURITY FORCES MATTHEW THE APOSTLE

Michael The Archangel

SEMINARIANS

Charles Borromeo Lawrence

SEPARATED SPOUSES EDWARD THE CONFESSOR GENGULPHUS

Gummarus

Nicholas Of Flue

Philip Howard

SERBIA SAVA

SERBS SAVA

SERVANTS, WAITERS, WAITRESSES MARTHA

Notburga

Zita

SERVANTS WHO HAVE BROKEN THEIR MASTERS’ BELONGINGS, INVOKED BY BENEDICT

SEXUAL TEMPTATION ANGELA OF FOLIGNO

Catherine Of Siena

Margaret Of Cortona Mary Of Edessa

Mary Of Egypt

Mary Magdalen

Mary Magdalen Of Pazzi

SICILY

Andrew Avellino Nicholas Of Myra Rosalia

SICK ANIMALS BEUNO

Dwynwen

SICK PEOPLE, BODILY ILLS, SICKNESS

Alphais

Alphonsa Of India

Amparo Carbonili

Angela Merici

Angela Truszkowska Arthelais

Bathild

Bernadette Of Lourdes Camillus Of Lellis

Catherine Del Ricci Catherine Of Siena

Drogo

Edel Quinn

Elizabeth Of The Trinity Gerard Of Villamagna Germaine Cousin

Gorgonia

Hugh Of Lincoln

Isabella Of France

Jacinta Marto

John Of God

Julia Billiart

Julia Falconieri

Juliana Of Nicomedia Louis IX

Louise De Marillac

SILVERSMITHS, SILVER WORKERS ANDRONICUS

Dunstan

Nativity Of The Blessed Virgin

SINGERS

Andrew The Apostle Cecilia

Gregory The Great

SINNERS, PENITENT MARY MAGDALEN

SISTERS OF MERCY ELIZABETH OF HUNGARY

SKATERS, SKATING, ICE SKATING, ROLLER SKATING

Lydwina Of Schiedam

SKIATHOS ISLAND, GREECE PANAGIA KASTRIANI

SKIERS

Bernard Of Montjoux

SKIN DISEASES, SKIN RASHES, ECZEMA

Anthony The Abbott

George

Marculf

Peregrine Laziosi

SLAVERY

Peter Claver

SLEEPWALKERS,

AGAINST SLEEPWALKING DYMPHNA

SLOVAKIA

Our Lady Of The Assumption

SLOVENES VIRGILIUS

SMALLPOX MATTHIAS JOHN OF AVILA

Our Lady Of Guadalupe Of Estremadura

Our Lady Of Montserrat Our Lady Of Ransom Our Lady Of The Pillar Of Saragossa

Teresa Of Avila

SPASMS

John The Baptist

AGAINST; STARVING PEOPLE ANTHONY OF PADUA

STENOGRAPHERS CASSIAN

Genesius

STEP-PARENTS

Adelaide

Leopold The Good Thomas More

SMELTERS

Barbara

Hubert Of Liege

Stephen The Younger

SNAKE BITES

Hilary Of Poitiers Patrick

Paul The Apostle Vitus

SNAKES, INVOKED AGAINST DOMINIC OF SORA

Hilary Of Poitiers

Patrick

Paul The Apostle

Pirmin

SOAP BOILERS FLORIAN

SOCIAL JUSTICE JOSEPH

Martin De Porres

SPELIOLOGISTS, SPELUNKERS, CAVE SCIENTISTS, POTHOLERS, CAVERS

Benedict

SPINNERS

Catherine Of Alexandria Parasceva

Seraphina

SPIRITS, EVIL AGRIPPINA QUIRINUS

STERILITY, BARRENESS,

INFERTILITY; INVOKED AGAINST AGATHA

Anne

Anthony Of Padua

Casilda

Felicity

Fiacre

Francis Of Paola

Giles

Henry II

Margaret Of Antioch

Rita Of Cascia

SPIRITUAL EXERCISES IGNATIUS OF LOYOLA

STOCK BROKERS

Matthew The Apostle

SPIRITUAL HELP VINCENT DE PAUL

SPIRITUAL LEADERS EPHREM OF SYRIA

SPOUSE ABUSE (PHYSICAL), AGAINST

Rita Of Cascia

STOMACH DISEASES, INVOKED AGAINST BRICE

Erasmus

Timothy

Wolfgang

STORKS

AGRICOLA OF AVIGNON SOCIAL WORKERS JOHN REGIS

Louise De Marillac

SOLDIERS

Acacius

Adrian Of Nicomedia Faith

George

Hadrian

Ignatius Of Loyola

Joan Of Arc

Louis IX Martin Of Tours Maurice

Michael The Archangel Sebastian

Theodore Stratelates

SPOUSE ABUSE (VERBAL), AGAINST

Anne Marie Taigi

Godelieve

Monica

SPUR MAKERS GILES

SRI LANKA, FORMERLY CEYLON LAWRENCE

Our Lady Of Madhu

Thomas The Apostle

STORMS, AGAINST OR SAFETY FROM AGRIPPINA

Barbara

Catald

Christopher

Erasmus

Florian

Scholastica

Thomas Aquinas Urban Of Langres Vitus

Walburga

STABLEMEN ANNE

STORMS AT SEA

Michael The Archangel

SOUTH AFRICA

Our Lady Of Shongweni Our Lady Of The Assumption

SOUTH AMERICA ROSE OF LIMA

SPAIN

Euphrasius

Felix

James The Greater

STAINED GLASS WORKERS; GLASS PAINTERS

James Grissinger

Lawrence

Lucy Of Syracuse

Luke The Apostle

Mark The Evangelist

STAMP COLLECTORS, PHILATELISTS GABRIEL THE ARCHANGEL

STRIFE, INVOKED AGAINST

Denis

STROKE, APOPLEXY, APOPLEXICS, STROKE VICTIMS

Andrew Avellino

Wolfgang

STUDENTS OF THEOLOGY ALBERT MAGNUS

STARVING OR STARVATION, SUCCESS IN GENERAL SERVATUS

TARANTO CATALD

SURGEONS

Cosmas

Damian

Luke The Apostle Roch

SWANS

Hugh Of Lincoln

SWEDEN

Anskar

Bridget Of Sweden Eric Of Sweden Gall

Sigfrid

TAX COLLECTORS

Matthew The Apostle

TEACHERS, EDUCATORS CATHERINE OF ALEXANDRIA FRANCIS DE SALES

Gregory The Great

John Baptist De La Salle Ursula

TEENAGERS, TEENAGE CHILDREN ALOYSIUS GONZAGA

TELECOMMUNICATIONS WORKERS GABRIEL THE ARCHANGEL

SWIMMERS, SWIMMING ADJUTOR

SWINEHERDS

Anthony Of Padua

SWITZERLAND

Gall

Nicholas Of Flue

Our Lady Of The Hermits

SWORDSMITHS

Maurice

Michael The Archangel

SYPHILIS FIACRE

George

TELEGRAPHS

Clare Of Assisi

Gabriel The Archangel

TELEPHONES

Clare Of Assisi

Gabriel The Archangel

TELEVISION

Clare Of Assisi

Gabriel The Archangel Martin De Porres

TELEVISION WORKERS GABRIEL THE ARCHANGEL

TELEVISON WRITERS CLAIRE OF ASSISI

THEOLOGIANS

Alphonsus Maria De Liguori Augustine Of Hippo

Catherine Of Alexandria John The Apostle

Thomas Aquinas

Thomas The Apostle

Thieves

Nicholas Of Myra

THIEVES, REFORMED

Dismas

THROATS, HEALTHY THROATS; AGAINST THROAT DISEASES, AILMENTS OR INFECTIONS; SORE THROATS

Andrew The Apostle

Blaise

Etheldreda

Godelieve

Ignatius Of Antioch

Lucy Of Syracuse

Swithbert

TILE MAKERS

Fiacre

Nativity Of The Blessed Virgin Roch

Vincent Ferrer

TILERS BARBARA

TIN MINERS

Joseph Of Arimathea Piran

TOOL MAKERS

Eligius

SYRIA

Barbara

TAILORS

Adam

Boniface

Eve

Homobonus

John The Baptist Martin Of Tours Matthias

TANNERS

Bartholomew The Apostle Catherine Of Alexandria Crispin

Crispian

John The Apostle

Lawrence

Mary Magdalen

Simon

TANZANIA

Our Lady Of The Immaculate Conception

TAPESTRY WORKERS

Feast Of The Immaculate Conception

TEMPTATIONS, AGAINST ANGELA OF FOLIGNO

Benedict

Catherine Of Bologna Catherine Of Genoa Catherine Of Siena Elizabeth Of Schonau Eustochium Of Padua Gemma Galgani

Helen Del Cavalcanti Margaret Of Cortona Maria Fortunata Viti Michael The Archangel Syncletica

TENT MAKERS PAUL THE APOSTLE

TERTIARIES

Delphina

Elizabeth Of Hungary Elizabeth Of Portugal Elzear

Ferdinand III Of Castille Louis IX

Margaret Of Cortona Rose Of Viterbo

TOOTHACHE

Apollonia

Christopher

Elizabeth Of Hungary Ida Of Nivelles

Kea

Medard

Osmund

TORTURE VICTIMS

Agatha

Alban

Armogastes

Bibiana

Blandina

Charles Lwanga

Cyriacus Of Ionium Edmund Of East Anglia Epipodius

Eulalia

Eustachius

Genesius

Hugh The Little

James Intercisus

John Rigby

Julia Of Corsica

Julitta

Mamas

Margaret Ward

Pantaleon

Pelagius

Regina

Richard Gwyn

Sabas

Simon Of Trent

Theodota

Victor Of Marseilles William Of Norwich

TOY MAKERS

Claude De La Columbiere

TURNERS

Anne

Catherine Of Alexandria Claude De La Columbiere

TWITCHING, AGAINST

Bartholomew The Apostle Cornelius

UGANDA

Mary, Queen Of Africa

UKRAINE JOSAPHAT

VINEGAR MAKERS VINCENT OF SARAGOSSA

VIRGINS

Agnes Of Rome

Blessed Virgin Mary

VIRTUE

Hallvard

VOCATIONS

Alphonsus Maria De Liguori Infant Jesus Of Prague

TRANSLATORS JEROME

TRANSPORTATION CHRISTOPHER

TRANSPORTATION WORKERS CHRISTOPHER

TRAPPERS

Bartholomew The Apostle Eustachius

Hubert Of Liege

UNATTRACTIVE PEOPLE DROGO

Germaine Cousin

UNITED STATES

Immaculate Conception Of Mary Our Lady Of The Milk

And Happy Delivery

Our Lady Of Victory

VOLCANIC ERUPTIONS AGATHA

Januarius

WALES

David Of Wales

WAR, INVOKED IN TIME OF ELIZABETH OF PORTUGAL

UNIVERSAL CHURCH JOSEPH

WATCHMEN

Peter Of Alcantara

TRAVEL HOSTESSES ANTHONY OF PADUA

UNIVERSITY OF OXFORD, ENGLAND FRIDESWIDE

WAX MELTERS, WAX REFINERS AMBROSE OF MILAN

Bernard Of Clairvaux

TRAVELLERS

Alexius

Anthony Of Padua

Balthasar Bona

Brendan The Navigator Brigid Of Ireland

Caspar

Christopher

Francis of Paola

Gertrude Of Nivelles Gertrude The Great

Infant Jesus Of Prague Joseph

Julian The Hospitaller Martha

Mary, Blessed Virgin Mary Euphrasia Pelletier Melchior

Nicholas Of Myra

Raphael The Archangel Sebastian Of Aparicio Valentine

TREATIES PANCRAS

TRUCK DRIVERS, TRUCKERS, LORRY DRIVERS

Christopher

TUBERCULOSIS, CONSUMPTION PANTALEON

TURIN, ITALY

John The Baptist

UPHOLSTERERS

Feast Of The Immaculate Conception

URUGUAY

Blessed Virgin Mary James The Lesser Philip The Apostle Our Lady Of Lujan

VENEREAL DISEASE FIACRE

VENEZUELA

Our Lady Of Coromoto

VETERINARIANS BLAISE

Eligius

VIET NAM

Joseph

Our Lady Of La Vang

VINE DRESSERS URBAN OF LANGRES

VINE GROWERS, VINTNERS, WINE MAKERS

Amand

Goar

Lawrence

Martin Of Tours

Morand

Urban Of Langres

Vincent Of Saragossa

WEATHER, GOOD

Agricola Of Avignon Clare Of Assisi

WEAVERS

Anastasia

Anastasius The Fuller Anthony Mary Claret Crispin

Crispian

Maurice

Onuphrius

Parasceva

Paul The Hermit

Severus

WEST INDIES

Gertrude The Great Gregory The Great Rose Of Lima

WET-NURSES

Agatha

Concordia

WHALES

Brendan The Navigator

WHEELWRIGHTS

Catherine Of Alexandria Eligius

Joseph

WHITENERS

Bartholomew The Apostle

WHOOPING COUGH, AGAINST BLAISE

WOMEN

Margaret Of Antioch

WIDOWERS

Edgar

Thomas More

WIDOWS

Adelaide

Anastasia

Angela Of Foligno

Anne Line

Bathild

Bridget Of Sweden

Blaesilla

Castora Gabrielli

Catherine Of Genoa

Clotilde

Concepcion Cabrera De Armida Dorothy Of Montau

Elizabeth Of Hungary

Elizabeth Of Portugal

Elizabeth Ann Seton

Etheldreda

Eulalia

Fabiola

Felicity

Frances Of Rome

Hedwig

Helen Del Cavalcanti

Helen Of Skofde

Ida Of Boulogne

Ida Of Herzfeld

Ivetta Of Huy

Jeanne De Chantal

Jeanne De Lestonnac

Jeanne Marie De Maille

Joaquina Vedruna De Mas Julitta

Jufta

Louise De Marillac

Lucy De Freitas

Ludmila

Macrina The Elder

Margaret Of Scotland

Margaret The Barefooted Marguerite d’Youville

Marie Of The Incarnation Matilda

Michelina

Monica

Olga

Paula

Pharaildis

Rita Of Cascia

WOMEN IN LABOUR ANNE

Erasmus

Margaret Of Antioch Margaret Of Fontana

WOMEN WHO WISH TO BECOME MOTHERS ANDREW THE APOSTLE

WOOL COMBERS BLAISE

WOOL MANUFACTURERS SEVERUS

WOOL WEAVERS BLAISE

Severus

WORKERS, WORKING PEOPLE JOSEPH

WOUNDS

Aldegundis

WRITERS OF CATECHISMS PETER CANISIUS

YACHTSMEN ADJUTOR

YOUNG PEOPLE IN GENERAL ALOYSIUS GONZAGA

Gabriel Of The

Sorrowful Mother

John Berchmans

John Bosco

Maria Goretti

Raphael The Archangel Stanislaus Kostka

Teresa Of The Andes

Valentine

YUGOSLAVIA CYRIL

Methodius

ZOOS

Francis Of Assisi

WILD BEASTS, AGAINST BLAISE

********

WINE MERCHANTS AMAND

WITCHCRAFT, AGAINST BENEDICT

WOLVES

Edmund Of East Anglia

Penance

BY REV. H. A. JOHNSTON, S.J

INDEX

WE do not understand what we are, and we do not understand what our life on earth means, unless we realise that we are, by our very nature and of necessity, servants of God. We exist to serve and praise our Creator. Besides being servants, God has made us sons also, giving us a share in His divine life, so that, having lived here in this world in a manner befitting our relationship with God, we should be admitted to a still closer union with Him and the divine life throughout eternity.

FREEWILL AND SIN

But, though this is our destiny, we are not forced to fulfil it. Among the natural gifts which go to make up our human dignity is that of free will. We have power to make a choice and can do good freely. On the other hand, we may know what is right but refuse to do it, and deliberately choose to do what is wrong. It is God’s plan that we should win merit for ourselves and give honour to Him by doing His will freely. If we refuse to carry out our chief duty of giving reverence and obedience to God, our Creator, we commit sin. I am speaking of sin in its strict and proper sense, namely, grave personal sin or offence against God. I exclude, therefore, Original Sin, which has been already treated in other pamphlets, and what is called venial sin, which is a lesser offence and not the definite revolt against God and repudiation of His authority, which mortal sin is.

As mortal sin is unnatural and entirely evil, we must expect serious consequences from it. The results of sin are the loss of supernatural life and of that special son-ship which sanctifying grace gives, and the loss of God’s friendship. If the sinner dies in the state to which sin has reduced him, he must suffer the loss of God and of all good for ever.

When a creature has thus fallen away from God and lost such precious possessions, is there any hope for him?’ Is restoration possible? We already know the answer to that question. We know that God, in His infinite goodness and mercy, came to the rescue of man. He sent His own Son, who took our nature, and thus was able, as being both God and Man, to act as Mediator and bring about reconcilement between sinful man and the majesty of God. “It has pleased the Father to reconcile all things to Himself through Him . . . making peace through the blood of His cross “ (Col. i., 20).

A SACRAMENT OF FORGIVENESS

In order that the grace through which we can obtain forgiveness of our sins might reach our souls, Our Lord instituted a special sacrament. We have already seen that, in order to incorporate us in one Body, which was to be a kind of extension of the Incarnation, and to provide for our varied spiritual needs, Christ instituted outward, visible rites, whose significance we could understand, capable of producing spiritual effects in our souls. We have already studied the sacrament of baptism, which first brings us supernatural life; the sacrament of confirmation, which effects a further consecration of the soul to God, and a special strengthening, in view of the fight which must be waged against all that is hostile to supernatural life; and the sacrament of the Blessed Eucharist, which provides the daily nourishment and support of supernatural life. Now we come to another sacrament, which has the power of restoring supernatural life to the soul if it has been lost after baptism. Sin means death-spiritual death-for the soul; but, through the redemptive grace of Jesus Christ, we can be raised from death and live again.

The sacrament of penance is, therefore, for human beings who are weak and liable to fall into sin, a gift of incalculable value. It is like a rope by which we may escape from a deep crevasse into which we have fallen, or a lifebuoy to save us from drowning. The resurrection which it effects is a greater boon than if one whose dead body was awaiting burial were called back to life again.

ITS INSTITUTION

It was -very fittingly-on the day of His own glorious Resurrection that Jesus Christ instituted this sacrament. On the evening of Easter Sunday He appeared to His apostles and said to them : “As the Father has sent Me, so I send you.” After that He breathed upon them and said : “Receive the Holy Spirit : whose sins you shall forgive they are forgiven them, and whose sins you shall refuse to forgive are not forgiven “ (St. John xx., 20).* By the words, “ Receive the Holy Spirit,” Christ made it clear that He was conferring a supernatural power, and the words which followed, “ Whose sins . . . ,” could hardly be understood in any way but one. By these words, as the Catholic Church has always taught, Christ gave to the priests of His Church the power of forgiving sins and of withholding forgiveness. This involved a corresponding obligation on the part of the sinner to submit his sins to the authority of the Church if he wished for forgiveness. The introductory words, “As the Father has sent Me, so I send you,” showed that Our Lord was commissioning His Church to carry on a work which He came on earth to do.

The sacrament of penance, then, as Jesus Christ established it, takes the form of judicial process, in which the penitent is at once the accused and the accuser, and the priest exercises the functions of judge. Through the absolution which the priest pronounces, divine grace is poured into the soul of the repentant sinner and he becomes once more the friend of God. Thus we have, as in every sacrament, the outward rite, with its special signification, and the interior effect which, through the power of God, it produces in the soul.

PENANCE IN THE EARLY CENTURIES

In the very early days of the Church the use of this sacrament was not as common as it is today. The custom of using the sacrament to obtain remission of venial sin and strength against temptation had not yet grown up; and the necessity of having recourse to the sacrament in the case of grave sin was expected to be of very rare occurrence. So high-and rightly-was the appreciation of the dignity conferred by baptism, and of the holiness which the Christian vocation demanded, that grave sin, with the consequent necessity of the sacrament of penance, was expected to be something quite exceptional. Some early Christian writers tell us that they are reluctant to mention penance, lest they seem to be making light of sin and even encouraging Christians to sin. Such was the high standard which they had in those days. For the same reason very severe penalties were inflicted on repentant sinners in the early Church

The views-sound in themselves-about the serious nature of sin committed by a baptised person explain the origin of the false opinions held by some heretical sects which wished to abolish or limit the power of the Church to forgive sin. Against such false opinions the Church always steadfastly maintained one unchanging doctrine, namely, that the Church has power to forgive every sin; and Catholic writers never failed to refute the contentions of the heretics. For example, St. Pacian, Bishop of Barcelona, who died about the year 390, wrote: “Christ excepted nothing at all. He said, ‘Whatsover’” (Epistles iii., 12). And St. Augustine, who died in 430, wrote : “There are some who said that penance was not to be allowed to certain sins; and they were excluded from the Church, because they were heretics” (Sermons, ccclii., 3).

HAS THE CHURCH CHANGED HER TEACHING?

For those who acknowledge the authority of the living, Church which Christ established to teach mankind, no citation of ancient authors on the subject of the sacrament of penance is really necessary. But for those who, owing to the outbreak of new heresies during the last few centuries, have been led into error and robbed of this sacrament, some quotations from early Christian writers will be useful and enlightening. The following passages should be sufficiently clear without comment :—St. Cyril of Alexandria (died 444) thus distinguishes the sacraments of baptism and penance : “The men who have received the breath of the Holy Spirit [the reference is to the passage of St. John quoted above] forgive sins in a twofold manner, either by admitting those who are worthy to baptism, or by forgiving the penitent children of the Church.”

St. Augustine (died 430) answers those who question the Church’s power : “Let us not listen to those who deny that the Church of God has the power to forgive all sins. These unhappy people, through not recognizing in Peter the rock, and being unwilling to believe that the keys of the kingdom of heaven were given to the Church, have themselves lost these keys from their hands.”

* The second part of this quotation is more familiar to us in the old Douay version, “Whose sins you shall retain, they are retained.” We do not use “retain” in this sense in modern English.

St. John Chrysostum (died 407) calls attention to the wonderful nature of this power given to man : “Those who are living on earth . . . have a power which God has given neither to angels nor to archangels . . . Whatever priests do below God ratifies above, and the Lord confirms the decision of the servant. . . . For He said, ‘What sins you remit are remitted, and what sins you refuse to remit are not remitted ‘ What power could be greater than that The Father has given all judgment to the Son.’ And I see them entrusted with all this by the Son.”

St. Ambrose (died 397) appeals to the words and authority of Christ : “They say [the Novatians, who were among the heretics who wished to deny or limit the power of the Church to forgive sin] that they are paying reverence to the Lord by reserving the power to forgive sin to Him alone. In reality, none do Him a greater wrong than those who wish to nullify His commands and reject the gift He offers. Seeing that the Lord Jesus Himself said in His Gospel, ‘ Receive the Holy Spirit; whose sins you forgive,’ and so on, who honours Him more, those who obey His commands or those who resist?” And again : “It seemed impossible that sins should be forgiven through penance. But Christ granted this to His Apostles, and by them it was transmitted to the office of the priesthood. Therefore, that which seemed impossible has been made possible.”

St. Pacian, Bishop of Barcelona (died about 390), already quoted, combats the contention of the Novatians that “the Church cannot forgive mortal sin.” He asks who taught this doctrine; was it Moses, St. Paul, or Christ? No, he says, but Novatian, “almost three hundred years after the Passion of Our Lord.” And he asks by what authority he introduces a new Gospel, and a new law.

St. Athanasius (died 373) compares baptism and penance : “As one who is baptised by a priest is illuminated by the grace of the Holy Spirit, so he who confesses in penance receives forgiveness through the priest because of the grace of Christ.”

Lactantius (writing soon after the year 300), though not always a high authority in matters of doctrine, agrees with his contemporaries in assigning the sacrament of penance as a mark of the true Church : “Since each of the heretical sects thinks that it is the Catholic Church, we must understand that the true Church- is that in which there is confession and repentance, which cure effectively the sins and wounds to which the weakness of the flesh is subject.”

St. Cyprian (died 258) urges Christians to seek absolution in this sacrament : “I beseech you, dearly loved brethren, let each one confess his sin while he who sinned is still in this world, while his confession can be admitted, while the satisfaction and the remission granted through the priests are acceptable with God.”

OTHER EVIDENCE

From the beginning of the third century we have clear testimony of the teaching of the Church in the prayers used at the ordination of priests and the consecration of bishops. The following (dating from the beginning of the third century) is an example :—“Give, Thou knower of the heart, Father, unto Thy servant whom Thou hast chosen for the Office of bishop, that he may feed Thy flock and minister as priest to Thee without blame, serving Thee continuously by day and night, supplicating to see Thy face worthily that he, may offer Thine oblation in Thy holy Church in the spirit of the fulness of priesthood, having authority to forgive sin according to Thy commandment and give the ordination of Thy ordinance and loose all bonds of iniquity according to the authority which Thou gavest to Thy Apostles.” (R. H. Connolly, in The So-Called Egyptian Church Order, in the Cambridge series of Texts and Studies, pp. 16–19).

CAN THE CHURCH ERR?

Though it is true that not all the doctrines of the Church were set forth from the beginning with the fulness and explicitness to which we are accustomed to-day, we have quite sufficient evidence to show that the Church from the beginning claimed and exercised the power of forgiving sin by the authority of Jesus Christ. There are some who maintain that the common teaching of the Catholic Church concerning the sacrament of penance is a later addition to primitive doctrine. What does such a view imply? That the Church which Christ promised would never teach what was false, has, through century after century, taught false doctrine to the faithful. If the Church has fallen into error, the Spirit of Truth, who was to live in her and guide her, has failed, and the promises of the Son of God have not been fulfilled. Such a thing is, of course, impossible. Therefore, quite apart from any evidence we can produce from the early centuries of Christian history, we are assured that whatever the Church teaches us today is the truth which she has been commissioned by Jesus Christ to hand on to us. With that we can be content.

SUMMARY

1-Sin and the effects of sin. 2-Means for forgiveness of sin. , 3-The institution of the sacrament of penance, and the nature of this sacrament. 4-The sacrament of penance in early Christian times. 5-Testimony of early Christian writers : St. Cyril of Alexandria (444), St. Augustine (430), St. John Chrysostum (407), St. Ambrose (397), St. Pacian (390), St. Athanasius (373), Lactantius (300), St. Cyprian (258). 6 Other testimony. 7 The Church can never teach what is false.

THE EFFECTS OF THE SACRAMENT OF PENANCE

1-It remits the guilt of sin, both mortal and venial, committed after baptism. 2-It gives back sanctifying grace if it has been lost, and increases it if it is already in the soul. 3-It remits entirely the eternal punishment due for mortal sin, and also the temporal punishment, wholly or in part, according to our dispositions. 4-It enables one who has committed mortal sin to receive Holy Communion again. 5-It strengthens the soul by giving it a right to special helps from God, called actual graces, to enable it to avoid those sins of which it has repented. 6 It restores the merits which were lost through grave sin.

The Necessity of Repentance.

If anyone wanted to know why Catholics believe that they can obtain pardon of their sins through the sacrament of penance we should give the following reasons :- (1) Jesus Christ established a Church, and gave it authority to teach all mankind in His name. This Church assures me that the sacrament of penance has this power. That reason would be quite sufficient, even if I knew no other. (2) We read in the Gospels that on the day of His Resurrection Jesus Christ appeared to His Apostles and said “As the Father has sent Me, so I send you.” Then He breathed upon them and said : “Receive the Holy Spirit; whose sins you shall forgive, they are forgiven them, and whose sins you shall refuse to forgive are not forgiven.” Are these not plain words that anyone can understand? (3) We can show that from the earliest times the Church which Christ promised would be guided by the Spirit of Truth.has administered the sacrament of penance, and taught that it brings forgiveness of sin. No evidence need be adduced from later history, because, though some controversy can be raised about very early days, no one can reasonably doubt that from, say, the time of St. Augustine the teaching and practice of the Catholic Church have been substantially what they are to-day. If St. Pacian was so indignant because the heretic Novatian and his followers had wished to introduce new ideas between two and three hundred years after the time of Christ, what should be thought of those who, after sixteen hundred years, turned their backs on the whole of Christian tradition and robbed so many souls of God’s great gift of mercy? Might we not repeat what St. Augustine wrote 1500 years ago, in words already quoted : “These unhappy people, through not recognising in Peter the rock . . . have lost the keys of heaven”?

THE FOUR PARTS OF THE SACRAMENT

The sacrament of penance contains four elements or parts-contrition, confession, absolution and satisfaction. The sinner must be truly sorry for his sins, he must confess them to a priest who has authority to absolve him, and he must be prepared to perform whatever good work is imposed as a penance for them; he then receives absolution, which brings sanctifying grace to the soul and remission of sin.

Of these four parts the priest is responsible for one, the giving of absolution. He receives the power to forgive sin through his ordination; but he needs, besides, jurisdiction, which is given by the competent ecclesiastical authority. This jurisdiction-like the jurisdiction of a civil judge-is ordinarily confined to a certain territory, and may be restricted to certain classes of persons; certain sins, also, may, in exceptional circumstances, be exempted from the jurisdiction given.*

* These are called “reserved sins.” The reservation to a higher tribunal, or to a priest who has special faculties, of the power of absolving certain sins has as its object to bring before the faithful the serious nature of these sins and the necessity of making special efforts to avoid them.

THE PART OF THE PENITENT

The other three parts of the sacrament concern the sinner, or the penitent, as one who comes to the sacrament of penance is called. It is important, therefore, that those who are preparing to receive this sacrament should understand clearly what is required of them in order that they may profit by it. We will consider in turn the three parts of the sacrament which concern the recipient-contrition, confession and satisfaction. Of the three, contrition is the most important. Confession and satisfaction, in certain circumstances, are not necessary; but without contrition there can be no forgiveness and no sacrament of penance. The grace of the sacrament of baptism can be conferred, as we know, on an infant—on one, that is, who does not co-operate actively in any way, but is merely passive. It is quite different with the sacrament of penance. Whereas supernatural life can be given to us in the first instance without our co-operation, it cannot be restored to us, if we have lost it through grave sin, without an act of repentance on our part.

When John the Baptist began his preaching, which was to prepare the way for the public ministry of Jesus Christ, his message was : “Repent, for the Kingdom of God is at hand.” And when Jesus Himself appeared and sent His disciples before Him, the message was again the same : “Do penance; repent.” On one occasion, when His disciples had drawn His attention to the terrible fate of some of their countrymen who had been massacred by the Roman Governor, He gave them the solemn warning, “ Unless you repent, you will all perish in the same way” (Luke xiii., 2).

MEANING OF REPENTANCE

The sacrament of penance, then, to be efficacious, supposes repentance on the part of the recipient. The meaning of repentance, or contrition, is clearly shown by the Greek word which the writers of the Gospels used, metanoia, a change of mind or disposition. When we sin we choose something that is wrong and contrary to God’s will; when we repent, we withdraw our will from the evil which we chose, in order to turn it once more towards God and put it into conformity with His will. Repentance does not consist in feeling, though feeling may accompany it. It is an act of the will, through which we say, in effect, “I did wrong; I offended God. I wish I had not done it; I won’t do it again.”

SORROW MUST BE SINCERE

There are certain qualities which sorrow for sin must have, if the sin is to be forgiven; and of these the first is that it be sincere. True repentance is not an affair of words only. We must detach our will from the wrong to which it had attached itself, and must really wish that we had not committed sin. It is precisely in this that the difficulty of repentance consists. It will, therefore, be realised that true sorrow implies a determination not to commit sin again. I cannot, of course, say with sincerity that I am sorry for hurting a person if I intend to commit the offence again. Therefore, I cannot sincerely hate sin and wish I had not committed it in the past if my will is not now set against it for the future.

Even if I have reason to doubt whether my present opposition to sin will remain firm in the future, as it is now, I can still have a true determination and resolve to avoid sin. A person learning to skate may have reason to fear still further falls before he is perfect in the accomplishment; but there is no doubt about his determination, each time he rises, to remain on his feet as long as he can. A batsman may know that a certain bowler is a danger to him, but still he intends to keep up his wicket and make as many runs as he can. It is not necessary for me to be sure that I shall succeed in avoiding sin, but it is necessary for me to be fully determined to do my best to avoid it.**

SORROW MUST BE SUPREME

In our sorrow for sin we must regard sin as the greatest evil. In this sense our sorrow must be supreme. A person might conceivably be sorry that a certain act or course of action offended God, and yet refuse to give it up because that would be too great a sacrifice. In this case there is something else which is regarded as a greater evil than sin. Such sorrow is not sufficient, because it does not give to God His proper place in our esteem. We must be prepared for any sacrifice rather than commit sin. In our estimation, sin must be the greatest of all evils. At the same time, it is not ** These illustrations are meant to make clear the distinction between a judgment about the future and an intention about the future. They must not be understood as suggesting that we have not the power to avoid sin. We can always avoid grave sin, if we wish, with the help of God’s grace. prudent to put hypothetical cases to ourselves, and ask ourselves whether, in such or such difficult circumstances, we should be prepared to make the necessary sacrifice in order to avoid sin. If God ever calls on us for an heroic act He will then give us the necessary grace. All that I need concern myself with here and now is to detest sin above all things, and be determined to let nothing come between me and the doing of God’s will.

SORROW MUST BE SUPERNATURAL

Sorrow for sin must also be supernatural. This implies two things : (1) The act must be inspired and assisted by divine grace. That depends on God; but as long as we do our part we can be sure that God will not fail us. (2) Our sorrow must be based on a supernatural motive, one connected with God or what He has taught us. It is not enough, for example, to be sorry for sin because we have made fools of ourselves, or got into trouble, or lost money, or injured ourselves, or wounded our self-respect. The motive must be one of this kind : that we have lost the friendship of God, or deserved His punishments, or sacrificed the eternal rewards which He will give to those who obey His law, or shown ingratitude towards our greatest benefactor, or sinned against a Being who is infinitely perfect and lovable.

SORROW MUST BE UNIVERSAL

Another quality which true sorrow must have is universality, in the sense that it must cover all grave sins that have been committed. The reason for this is easily understood. If a man is sorry for an act of dishonesty because he has been found out, he need not necessarily be sorry for another act of dishonesty which has not been found out. The motive for sorrow in one case is not present in the other; it does not cover all acts of dishonesty. But if a man is sorry for an act of dishonesty because it is a grave sin, he must,’ if conscious of another act of dishonesty which is also a grave sin, be sorry for it, too, because the motive which makes him sorry in one case is equally present in the other. Therefore, if a man is sincere in saying that he is sorry for a sin because it is a serious offence against God, he must also be sorry for any other sin which is likewise a serious offence against God. Otherwise, the motive he is giving for his sorrow is not the true one.

PERFECT AND IMPERFECT CONTRITION

Among the supernatural and sufficient motives for sorrow for sin a distinction can be made between perfect and imperfect ones; and according to this difference of perfection in the motives we divide contrition itself into perfect and imperfect: If we are sorry for sin for a motive which, though good and supernatural, contains a greater or less admixture of selfishness, as, for example, when we are sorry because of the serious consequences to ourselves which the loss of God’s friendship entails, our contrition is said to be imperfect. Such contrition, provided it has the qualities already mentioned, is sufficient for the sacrament of penance.

If, however, we are sorry for sin primarily for God’s sake, because of His own goodness and His supreme rights, then our contrition is called perfect. The use of the term “perfect” does not imply that our contrition itself could not possibly be better, or that there are not degrees of perfection even in contrition which is called “perfect.” Our hatred of sin may be greater or less, and our love for God more or less intense; but the contrition receives the name of “perfect.’’ because the motive which inspires it is the highest one, the goodness of God Himself.

An act of perfect love of God (that is, when we love God for what He is in Himself, and not for the sake of the advantages we may gain by loving Him) has, in practice, the same effects as an act of perfect contrition, because when we truly love God we necessarily hate and set our wills against what would offend Him. Both in an act of perfect contrition and an act of perfect love we set. God, in our appreciation, in His proper place above all created things, and acknowledge as our supreme obligation the doing of His will.

THE POWER OF PERFECT CONTRITION

Forgiveness of sin, then, is obtained by confessing it to a priest and receiving absolution from him in the sacrament of penance, provided the sinner has true sorrow, either perfect or imperfect in the sense explained above. That is the plan and will of Jesus Christ. But a further important difference has to be noted between perfect and imperfect contrition. Imperfect contrition is effective in recovering for us God’s grace and friendship only when joined with actual reception of the sacrament of penance. But itself it is not sufficient. But where the contrition, or sorrow, is perfect, sin is forgiven and the grace of God restored even before the sacrament is received, though it still remains obligatory to confess the sin and receive absolution. It would not, therefore, be exact to say simply that perfect contrition suffices for the remission of our sins without the sacrament of penance, because perfect contrition necessarily involves the readiness and desire to do all that God demands of us, and consequently the intention to receive the sacrament of penance according to the ordinance of Jesus Christ.

We have already seen something similar in the case of baptism. God has ordained that supernatural life should come to us through the sacrament of baptism. But an act of perfect love of God (in one capable of eliciting such an act), including as it does, either explicitly or implicitly, the desire for the sacrament, can win this supernatural life even before baptism is actually received. In the same way, though the sacrament of penance is necessary and obligatory for the remission of grave sins committed after baptism, an act of perfect sorrow or love, containing an explicit or implicit resolution to receive the sacrament, will obtain for us forgiveness of our sins even before the sacrament is received.

A Catholic; therefore, who has not the opportunity of receiving the sacrament of penance may escape from a state of sin and recover God’s grace by an act of perfect contrition or perfect love of God, with the intention of going to confession. And a non-Catholic, who does not even know anything about the sacrament of penance, or of the obligation to receive it, may also be freed from sin by a similar act. In this case he implicitly desires the sacrament, even if he does not know it, because he desires to do all God’s will, and God’s will includes-though again the nonCatholic may not know it-the reception of the sacrament of penance.

A HABIT THAT SHOULD BE ACQUIRED

It is important for Catholics to cultivate the habit of making acts of love of God and submission to His will, and of sorrow for sin based on the highest motives. Not only are these acts good and holy and pleasing to God, but they enable those who have committed grave sin to escape from a state of danger and of estrangement from God without having to wait till they get an opportunity of going to confession. Moreover, should the urgent necessity for perfect contrition arise through the sudden approach of death while they are in a state of sin, so that their salvation depends on their power of making an act of perfect contrition, the habit already formed will ,stand to them in their hour of need.

It is even more important for non-Catholics to learn to make, and to form the habit of making, these acts of perfect love of God or of sorrow for having offended Him, because, as those who are outside the Catholic Church have been robbed of the easier means of obtaining forgiveness of sin which Jesus Christ has provided in the sacrament of penance, they have no hope of saving their souls, if they commit grave sin, except through an act of perfect contrition or perfect love of God.

A MOTIVE FOR ZEAL

The possession of the sacrament of penance in the Catholic Church makes the forgiveness of our sins easier and surer. This is not the least of the benefits which our Catholic faith confers on us. The loss to those outside the Catholic Church is correspondingly great. Catholics should always be zealous, by means of good example and sympathetic encouragement, to help our separated brethren to find their way into the true Church. Sin is the only evil in the world that need be really feared; it is the only thing that can make human life a failure; it is the only thing that prevents men reaching everlasting happiness. For that reason we should be ready to make any sacrifice in order to put within men’s reach the means of protection against sin and of release from sin which Jesus Christ in His mercy left to a sinful world.

SUMMARY

1. Why we believe in the sacrament of penance. 2. The four parts of this sacrament. 3. What the penitent has to do. 4. Meaning of repentance. 5. Qualities of true sorrow : (a) Sincere; (b) Supreme; (c) Supernatural; (d) Universal. 6. The difference between perfect and imperfect contrition. 7. The special power of perfect contrition, and its connection with the sacrament of penance. 8. The importance of forming the habit of making acts of perfect contrition. 9. The unhappy lot of those who do not possess this sacrament of mercy.

Going to Confession

I

SINCE, of the three parts of the sacrament of penance, which concern the penitent, the confession of sin is, if not the most important, at least the most prominent, the sacrament of penance is popularly known as “confession,” and “going to confession” is the common expression for receiving the sacrament of penance. As it is of the greatest importance to understand how to make a good confession, we will consider how we must prepare and what we must do in order that out confessions may be good and profitable.

FIRST OF ALL

The first thing which we should do before confession is one which can easily be overlooked. It is to ask God’s help. We are going to do a supernatural work—to receive a sacrament, and we need the help of divine grace that we may make the right preparation and receive the sacrament with the right dispositions. We can have the satisfaction of knowing that, if we ask earnestly and with confidence, we shall receive the grace which we need, for Our Lord has promised that when we ask for what is really good He will hear our prayer. Since, therefore, we need God’s grace in order to make a good confession, and since we can be sure of getting it if we ask, let us be careful not to neglect this preliminary part of our preparation for confession.

EXAMINATION OF CONSCIENCE

Before confession we must know what sins we have to confess, and for that reason we examine our conscience. This examination is not meant to be a harassing and worrying thing. Ordinary reasonable care is all that is required. The trouble the examination of conscience will entail varies, of course, with the length of time a person has been away from the sacrament. For those who go to confession regularly and frequently, as good Catholics do, the examination of conscience is an easy matter and may be very brief. They know their chief weakness and the sins which they are most liable to commit; and if they had committed some sin out of the ordinary they could not easily overlook it.

The matter for confession, or the sins to be confessed, may be divided into two classes, obligatory and optional matter; or, what we are strictly bound to confess, and what we may confess or not as we please. The first class comprises all grave sin. We are strictly bound to confess every single sin that has certainly been committed and is certainly a grave (or mortal) sin committed after baptism, and not previously confessed and absolved in a good confession. It is not of obligation to confess anything else. The second class, optional matter, comprises venial sin and, besides, any sin which has already been confessed and forgiven. The sacrament of penance offers us an easy way of obtaining forgiveness of venial sin; but we are not bound to confess it, and forgiveness may be obtained in other ways. Sin already forgiven, whether mortal or venial, may also be confessed; it is sufficient matter for the sacrament. That is why a person who has committed no sin whatever since the last confession is nonetheless able to receive the sacrament again, by confessing (and being sorry for) past sin already forgiven. We can always accuse ourselves of this again before God, renewing our sorrow for having offended Him, and receive an increase of grace and strength to resist sin. But those who have never committed any sin cannot receive the sacrament of penance. Thus, children who have not come to the use of reason are not fit subjects for this sacrament, because they are incapable of committing sin. The Blessed Mother of God could never have received this sacrament, either, because she never committed sin.

DOUBTFUL SINS

This division of the matter for confession into sins which I must confess and sins which I may confess or not as I please is clear in itself. But a difficulty may arise when a person .is not sure to which of these two classes his sins belong, whether they are sins which he is bound to confess, or sins which he is not bound to confess. In a word, they are doubtful sins. What is the obligation with regard to doubtful mortal sins?

A mortal sin may be doubtful in one of three ways : (1) A person is not sure if he ever actually committed some particular grave sin or not. Did he on such and such an occasion in the past make a bad Communion, or miss Mass, or act dishonestly? He is not sure. This is not a very practical case for one who goes to confession regularly, and it raises no particular problem. (2) It may be certain that a sin was a grave sin; but there may be reason to think that it has already been confessed, though this is not certain. (3) The third case is the most common and practical, when a person is not sure whether the sin committed was mortal or not, and this requires some further elucidation.

WHAT MAKES A GRAVE SIN

It should be recalled that three conditions must be fulfilled before a sin is a grave sin. First, the matter must be serious. Thus, it would not be a mortal sin to steal a penny; it would be a mortal sin to steal it,. Second, the person who commits the sin must know at the time that he is doing something that is seriously wrong. To do something that is in itself wrong, without knowing it to be wrong, is not a sin; and to do something that is seriously wrong, without knowing that it is seriously wrong, is not a grave sin. Nor will subsequent enlightenment make a past sin worse than it was at the time it was committed. Each sin must be judged by the state of mind of the person who committed it, at the time it was committed. The third condition for grave sin is that the person who commits it must advert at the time to the fact that it is a grave sin, and commit it with full deliberation and consent.

A person, therefore, who comes to confession may be doubtful if a sin he has committed was a mortal sin, either (1) because he is not sure that the matter was serious enough to constitute a mortal sin (in which case, of course, he is bound to clear up the doubt with a view to his future conduct), or (2) because he is not sure that he had sufficient knowledge at the time, or (3)-and this is, perhaps, the case most likely to happen -he is not sure if he committed the sin with full deliberation.

What, then, is the obligation regarding doubtful sins, whether the doubt concerns the fact of the sin, its previous confession, or its gravity?

IS IT OBLIGATORY TO CONFESS DOUBTFUL SINS?

The answer is simple. Strictly speaking, there is no obligation to confess doubtful mortal sins. The Church tells us exactly what we are bound to do, and that is, to confess every single mortal sin that we are certain of, committed after baptism, and not previously confessed and absolved in a good confession. We are not bound to confess anything else. Of course, as a matter of advice, we would say that if the sin is doubtful let it be confessed as doubtful, and thus further worry and trouble will be saved, and the danger of self- deception avoided. But still, for the sake of those who are inclined to be worried and anxious about the completeness of their confessions, it is well to be clear that we are, strictly speaking, bound to confess only those sins that are certainly grave sins.

IS THERE ANY RISK?

But here a difficulty might be put by one of those persons who are inclined to be anxious. Suppose I do not confess those doubtful mortal sins, because I am told that I am not bound to do so; and suppose that in fact they were actually committed, or were never confessed, or were in reality grave sins, though I am not able to make up my mind with certainty on these points. Do I not run a great risk by not confessing them? The same difficulty arises in regard to forgotten sins. Some people get worried because they are afraid that they may have forgotten to confess some grave sin, and they are always wanting to go back over the past in order to make sure that they have not overlooked anything They are frequently told not to go back, and not to be afraid. But, they object, if there were grave sins which I had, at a time of my life when I was careless, omitted to confess, do I not run a great risk if they remained unconfessed? The answer again is simple : no risk whatever. It is worth understanding why this is so.

When we make a good confession (and I mean by this, when we take ordinary reasonable care, confess all the sins which we consider at the time we are bound to confess, and have true sorrow), then we receive sanctifying grace into our souls, and grave sin, if there is any there, must necessarily disappear. Grave sin and sanctifying grace are mutually contradictory and destructive; they cannot both be in the soul at the same time. It will be seen, therefore, that a good confession can be the means, indirectly, of obtaining forgiveness of sins which have not been confessed, and which may have been completely forgotten; and that it would be a great mistake to think that only those sins that are confessed can be forgiven through the grace of the sacrament; or to think that one mortal sin could be forgiven and another remain on the soul; or to think that a person could go to confession with the right dispositions and come away in the state of grave sin.

HOW SIN IS FORGIVEN

The explanation is that it is not precisely the confessing of sin which blots it out, but the grace which is given through the absolution of the priest. Let us invent a parable. A woman brings a tablecloth to a laundry and, pointing out a certain stain, asks if washing will remove it. She is told that it will. The tablecloth is washed, and when it comes back the woman finds the stain gone. But on further examination she discovers another stain of the same kind which she had not noticed before. She goes back to the laundry to complain. “Was this tablecloth washed?” she asks. “Yes, it was well washed,” is the answer.

Why, then, is this stain there?” “Oh, you never pointed that one out.” Would such a story be accepted as anything but fanciful? If a thing is washed, all the stains that washing will remove will disappear, whether pointed out beforehand or not. In a somewhat similar way, when we go to confession with the requisite dispositions and do our best, our souls are washed with the precious blood of Jesus Christ and every stain of grave sin’ must disappear.

Suppose (to take an extreme and improbable example) that a man goes to confession and confesses three venial sins, and has true detestation of everything that would offend God, and especially of grave sin; and suppose that there are twenty mortal sins on his soul which he has completely forgotten The twenty sins would be forgiven as certainly as any which he had confessed. Of course, if he remembers afterwards a grave sin which was not confessed, he is bound to confess it-not in order that it may be forgiven, for it has, in our supposed case, already been forgiven, but because we are bound to submit all grave sin to the authority of the Church. If he refused to obey God’s law in this respect he would commit a new and grave sin; but the others would be gone, and could not, of course, return.

That is why I said that, though we are bound to take reasonable care to make our confessions complete, once we have taken such care there is no cause for anxiety or worry.

SETTING RIGHT A BAD CONFESSION

Is it ever necessary to go back over past confessions? Yes, in one case : if we have ever been unfortunate enough to make a bad confession and have not set it right. A confession is a bad one if a person deliberately conceals (that is, refuses to confess) a mortal sin in confession, or deliberately goes to confession without having sorrow and the willingness to perform the penance enjoined and the intention of avoiding sin in future. To make a bad confession is a peculiarly foolish sin, because no benefit whatever can come from it. One who makes a bad confession has still on his soul all the sins he had before, and in addition a grave sin of sacrilege, through the abuse of a sacred thing, the sacrament of penance.

Can a bad confession, then, be set right? Certainly. All that is necessary is to make a good confession covering the time since the last good confession; in other words, to go back to the last good confession and take up from there. Every grave sin committed since the last good confession, including, of course, the sacrilegious confession or confessions.

When the devil has induced a person to make a bad confession he will do his utmost to keep the unfortunate one from setting matters right. He will put vividly before the sinner the difficulty of getting out of the unhappy position in which he now is, with the object of keeping him permanently the slave of sin. And so it is necessary to insist that, even if many bad confessions have been made, it is a simple matter, through God’s mercy, to put things right. True sorrow and a good confession covering the period since the last good confession are all that is necessary; and grace for this will be given by God to those who desire it and ask for it. Many who have made bad confessions and have had the courage to go back and set things right have been surprised how easy God made it for them and what consolation He gave them.

VOLUNTARY GENERAL CONFESSIONS SOMETIMES USEFUL

Apart from this case of necessity, it is sometimes useful to go back over past confessions, and accuse ourselves of our past sins and renew our sorrow for them. It is particularly to be recommended when a person is entering on a new stage of life, for example, when about to be married. Many people have the habit of going back periodically, perhaps over the past year, or over the time since the last retreat or mission. Sometimes, when a person begins to realise that he has been slipping back spiritually, even if no grave sin has been committed, he is helped to pull himself up by making a confession covering the period of carelessness. It often happens that those who have felt habits of sin creeping upon them, and whose resistance to temptation is becoming weaker and weaker, have been enabled to shake off this spiritual listlessness completely and rise superior to their difficulties by going back and making a frank confession of their weakness and failings. The explanation is that the act of humiliation involved wins the favour of God in a special way; and the consideration of all the carelessness and infidelity of the period under review is calculated to rouse deeper sorrow and a more firm determination of amendment-all which means better dispositions for the reception of the sacrament, and a consequent increase of the grace it confers.

But there are people who have to be forbidden to go back over past confessions-those who are worried and anxious without reason. They have frequently made general confessions, perhaps, but they are never satisfied, and they think that if they are permitted to make just one more general confession all will be well. There is only one cure for this state of mind, and it is a safe one. It is for such persons to do exactly what they are told by their confessor. It may sometimes be necessary for them to sacrifice their desire to feel satisfied, and be content to obey their spiritual director. They can have this consolation, that God will never blame them for being obedient.

CHIEF PART OF PREPARATION

By far the most important part of preparation for confession is to excite true sorrow for sin. The meaning of sorrow, and the qualities it must have, have already been explained. Here we want only to insist on the importance of this part of our preparation for confession. Without sorrow confession is, at best, mere waste of time; and if the want of sorrow is deliberate, or due to grave carelessness, the confession will be a bad one and grave sin committed. We might write out a complete list of all our sins, as far as we could discover them, and confess them to the Pope himself, and receive absolution from him; and if we had not sorrow and a true determination to avoid sin in future it would do us no good whatever.

There are two chief dangers for Catholics with regard to the sacrament of penance-one, of finding confession too hard, and the other, of finding it too easy; and of the two the second, perhaps, is the greater danger. The difficulty of finding confession too hard may keep some Catholics away from confession, or even at times lead them to make bad confessions. This danger is an obvious one, arising from the nature of the obligations which the sacrament imposes. It will be dealt with presently. But the other danger is a more insidious one. Just because confession is ordinarily so easy, it is possible to get into the habit of going to confession in the routine manner, without sufficient attention to that part of the preparation which matters most. Sufficient time and attention may be given to examination of conscience, but not enough to the essential work of exciting within us sorrow for the sins which we are going to confess.

THE REAL DIFFICULTY OF CONFESSION

Of course, without sorrow there can be no sacrament, and if a person deliberately went to confession without sorrow (even if there were only venial sins to be confessed) it would be sacrilege. But, apart from this, want of proper attention and care in the matter of contrition will mean that those who have not grave sin to confess will get little profit from their confessions compared with what they might get if their dispositions were more perfect. For those who, unfortunately, frequently commit grave sin the danger is more serious. They know, of course, that true sorrow is necessary; no Catholic, in spite of what enemies may say, ever looks on confession as a kind of licence to commit sin. Neither does he look on it as a mere penalty for committing sin, as if committing sin would be in some way permissible provided you were willing to pay the penalty of confessing the sin afterwards. But for one who is in the habit of committing grave sin it may not be an easy thing to have that true sorrow and real determination to give up sin which are absolutely necessary. Such a person has an attachment to sin. That attachment must be broken; the will must be-detached-in many cases dragged forcibly away-from sin; and this requires, besides the grace of God, a very real effort and change of disposition on the part of the sinner who is coming to the sacrament of penance. There lies the real difficulty of confession-not confessing the sin, but having true repentance for it. And it cannot be too much insisted on that without true repentance confession is useless.

For the profitable reception of this sacrament, therefore, careful preparation is necessary. At the same time, there is no reason for discouragement or scrupulosity. While guarding against negligence, we must not make the mistake of going to the other extreme and becoming victims of unnecessary anxiety. God has given us this sacrament in mercy, and He will certainly give us the grace necessary to receive it well if we trust Him and do our best.

“BUT I ALWAYS HAVE THE SAME SINS TO CONFESS”

Sometimes people are worried because, as they nearly always have the same sins to confess, and these not very serious, they fear they may not have true sorrow. A word may be said in answer to this not uncommon difficulty. First of all, the fact that this anxiety about having the proper dispositions exists is a very good sign that nothing requisite is missing; for one who is anxious will be likely to take too much care, rather than too little. But reasonable care, with the help of God’s grace, is sufficient. Further, it is to be noted that it is not surprising that many people find that they have nearly always the same sins to confess. If these were grave sins, there would be just cause for considering whether there were genuine repentance, seeing that the sins are so often repeated. But we are considering the case of those who lead a good life, whose sins are not grave, but faults due to human weakness and inattention. As people’s characters change only slowly, and the circumstances of their daily lives generally remain much the same, it is not surprising that their daily faults should always be of the same kind.

In order that there may be no doubt about the sufficiency of their sorrow, such people, when preparing for confession, should not confine their attention to the smaller sins which they have committed since their last confession, but make this an opportunity for renewing their sorrow for all the sins of their lives. Frequent renewal of sorrow for past sin is pleasing to God, increases divine love in our souls, and is an excellent safeguard against future sin. It is only when we let our hatred of sin and sorrow for past sin die away that fresh sin becomes possible. This abiding sorrow for sin is particularly efficacious when joined with the sacrament of penance, on account of the graces which this sacrament confers. Those who thus go to confession with sorrow for everything by which they have ever offended God, and accuse themselves, at least in a general way, of all their sins, need have no fear about the sufficiency of their sorrow.

SUMMARY

1. The first and most important thing to do when preparing for confession. 2. Examination of conscience not difficult. 3. Division of sins into two classes-what we must confess, and what we may confess. 4. Three ways in which a mortal sin may be doubtful 5. What is necessary that a sin may be grave? 6. The obligation regarding doubtful sins. 7. Is there risk concerning doubtful or forgotten sins? 8. How sin is forgiven (which answers the preceding difficulty). 9. How a bad confession can be set right. 10. Even general confessions that are not necessary may be useful, though they may also be harmful. 11. What we must chiefly attend to when preparing for confession. 12. The difficulty about always having the same sins to confess.

II

HAVING considered what we must do before confession, we now turn to the second section of this subject to see what is to be done at confession.

We must accuse ourselves humbly and simply of our sins as our conscience represents them to us. We do not go to confession to defend or excuse ourselves, but to be our own accusers. The priest will help us by asking questions, if he judges it necessary, and we should not be afraid to ask him for help if we need it; but, as far as possible, our selfaccusation should ordinarily be such as will make questioning unnecessary.

HOW TO CONFESS OUR SINS

We are bound to confess each individual mortal sin. If we do not know the number exactly we must give as close an estimate as we can. We are bound to make clear if the sin has been a grave one; and we are also bound to make clear the kind of sin which has been committed. It would not be sufficient merely to confess telling a lie, if it was a lie that had done grave injury to a person’s character. The lie in that case becomes a grave sin and not merely a violation of truth, but also a sin of injustice. Grave sins of thought, word, and deed are different in kind, and within these three classes there are many subdivisions. As every Catholic knows, the confession of sin should be brief and businesslike. Rambling stories and unnecessary details are not wanted. Only those circumstances need be mentioned which must be known in order that the gravity and precise nature of the sin may be understood.

I have already said that finding confession too easy is perhaps a greater danger for the average Catholic than finding it too hard. But the difficulty of confessing sin may be a real one in some cases, especially for those who are young or of a naturally timid disposition, or who, having led an innocent life heretofore, are betrayed into some worse sin than usual. The devil is always ready to take advantage of our character or of special circumstances to lure us into the wrong path.

IS IT SO HARD?

We need not be surprised, therefore, if for any reason we sometimes find the duty of confessing our sins repugnant to natural feelings. But there are many considerations calculated to give us confidence. First of all, in confessing our sins to God’s representative we are really confessing them to God Himself, who is infinite in mercy. Even if we had committed far greater sins-even if we were a thousand times as bad as we really are, we could still come to God without a shadow of doubt about His readiness to forgive. When we come to confession we come to Jesus Christ, who was called “the friend of sinners,” and did not reject the title. If, then, we are sinners, that gives us a claim on Christ’s friendship, provided we are truly repentant. If we read and ponder on the story of the Prodigal Son, told in the fifteenth chapter of St. Luke’s Gospel, we shall surely gain more confidence in God’s mercy and firm assurance regarding the kind of welcome we may expect from Him when we return in sorrow to Him

On what easy terms God forgives our sins ! These sins have offended and dishonoured Him, and yet the conditions which, He lays down for forgiveness are so easy. Suppose there were a doctor who could cure all diseases, without operations or troublesome treatment, provided sufferers explained what their complaint was and sincerely desired to be cured. Would that not be considered a great boon, and would not people throng to such a doctor to be cured? Yet all the sins which are the cause of death to the soul can be removed at once if they are confessed with sorrow. If a man offends against the laws of the State he is brought before the court and the evidence of his guilt is set forth in the hearing of all, and published in the papers for the world to read; and a heavy sentence, perhaps, follows. But no matter how serious are our offences against God, an acknowledgment of them by ourselves to His representative, in secret, accompanied by true repentance, is sufficient to obtain immediate and complete forgiveness.

We are not asked to confess our sins before a crowded court or before a whole congregation, but to one person in the most absolute secrecy. The priest is bound by the most solemn of obligations to preserve secret every sin which has been confessed in the sacrament of penance. This point need not be laboured. No power on earth, civil or ecclesiastical, can oblige a priest to violate the seal which guards the secrecy of confession. Under no conceivable circumstances, not even to save his life, would it be lawful for him to reveal the least sin that he has heard in confession. Confessing our sins, therefore, is like dropping them into a deep well; there is a little splash on the surface for a moment, and then they are gone, out of sight and out of hearing for ever.

SHAME

The devil may suggest to a timid person that the priest will be surprised at some particular sin that has to be confessed. There is no foundation for such a fear. The priest has such a knowledge of human nature and of human weakness as will prevent him from feeling surprised. Moreover, every sin that could be committed has been, unfortunately, committed over and over again. They are all known and catalogued. Neither will the priest despise the sinner-another possible suggestion of the devil. No doubt it is a shameful thing to commit sin; but to repent and offer to God the reparation of a good confession is not something to be ashamed of. Our Lord has told us that there will be joy in heaven over the repentance of one sinner more than over ninety-nine just that do not need penance And no consolation could be greater for a priest than to be allowed to help a sinner back to happiness and to the grace and friendship of God.

PITY THE CONFESSOR

Sometimes it may happen that a priest in the confessional will be wanting in patience, kindness, or sympathy. He is wrong and blameworthy, because in this he is not like Jesus Christ whose place he is occupying. But a penitent who would allow himself to be turned against the sacrament of penance on account of the fault of a priest would also be wrong. . You go to confession, not for the sake of the priest, but in obedience to the will of God and to gain remission of your sins. If the priest offends you by his manner, that is no reason why you should offend God by neglect of the sacrament. Furthermore, allowance should be made for the priest. He may have to sit for hours in a cramped position, perhaps in an ill- ventilated confessional, straining to hear the low voices of his penitents, striving to give the same individual attention to each, ready to apply his mind to any problem which may arise. The work is monotonous and wearisome, a point which may easily be overlooked by the penitent, who has only one confession to make, whereas the priest has very many to hear. If, in these circumstances, he were on occasion to be wanting in patience or kindness, he would undoubtedly be wrong, but he would have excuses. Therefore, if one confessor does not suit you, find another, if you can; but do not let the defects of any priest turn you away from God’s sacrament.

ADVICE FOR THOSE WHO HAVE DIFFICULTY

God has given us the sacrament of penance to be a healing and soothing remedy for our souls. We should, therefore, do our best to put away all thoughts of fear and timidity. If there is something which, for one reason or another, we find it hard to mention in confession, let us not put it off. It has been wisely said that “ putting off an easy thing makes it hard, and putting off a hard thing makes it impossible.” There is no hope of a bad egg improving with keeping. A piece of advice which is worth having in mind for our own use or for the help of others is this : if a person has a great difficulty in going to confession, let him ask God’s help and then, without thinking at all of what he has to confess or how he is going to confess it, let him go to confession and simply tell the priest that he finds it hard to come to confession, or is in difficulty, or wants special help-just that and nothing more. Experience has shown that the difficulty will be found to have melted away.

ASK ADVICE

Sometimes it is not a matter of sin at all. It might happen that a person would keep some trouble of conscience to himself for years, and then take heart to speak about it, only to find that there was no real ground for worry all the time. It is a great mistake to keep subjects of worry on the mind unnecessarily, seeing that a little courage can bring so much peace of soul. Though the sacrament of penance is primarily for the confession and forgiveness of sin, it affords a useful opportunity of getting spiritual advice; and counsel sought in time may save much sin and sorrow. This point is of special importance for young people who are just growing up and are meeting with new difficulties and temptations.

There are sometimes doubts to be cleared up-what is right and what is wrong in some matter, how to act in certain circumstances in order to please God, how best to avoid certain dangers, how to deal successfully with temptations. Open the windows and let in the light. When the devil is laying traps he loves to work in the dark.

SACRAMENTAL PENANCE

At confession some good work is imposed upon us by the confessor as a penance for our sins, and after confession there remains the obligation of performing this penance. Though our repentance has been genuine, and therefore sufficient for the remission of the guilt of sin, there may not have been such a perfect and generous turning to God as would make full satisfaction for our sinful self-indulgence; and so some penalty or punishment may still be due. The penance given in confession, because it is part of the sacrament, which gets its special efficacy from Jesus Christ, has much greater power of atoning for our sins than the same good works done of our own accord independently of the sacrament. For this reason we should value our sacramental penance and should be careful in performing it. The obligation to perform it is a grave one if it is a serious, or heavy, penance imposed for serious sin. If we forget, through no fault of our own, we lose the additional benefit we should have gained by it, but the grace given by the absolution which we received is not, of course, lost.

OBLIGATIONS REMAINING AFTER CONFESSION

There may remain other obligations after confession. When a sin against justice has been committed-theft, for instance, or injury to another’s character-the sin cannot be forgiven unless there is the intention to make good the wrong as far as possible; this intention is a necessary part of the repentance. After the sin has been forgiven in confession this obligation of restitution or reparation remains, and binds under pain of sin, whether mortal or venial, according to the gravity of the injury to be repaired.

THE FUTURE

True repentance, we have already seen, involves a real determination to avoid sin in future, and consequently calls for the adoption of practical means to this end. No man can say that he sincerely intends to avoid sin if he is not willing to avoid what he knows already leads him to sin. For this, we cannot trust ourselves and our good resolutions only; we need the help of God’s grace, which will be given to us if we ask earnestly for it. Many a relapse into sin is due either to a failure to take the practical steps necessary in order to avoid sin, or to a failure to realise that our own strength will not suffice to save us, but that we must be earnest in begging God for help. We can ask for this help with all the more confidence because the very sacrament which we have received already gives us a new claim to special assistance from God, as need arises, to resist temptation and avoid sin. This assistance is one form of what is called actual grace.

A GREAT GIFT

We could never be sufficiently grateful to God for this most precious sacrament. We are told in the Gospels of the crowd of sick people who were always waiting at the pool of Bethsaida in Jerusalem for the moving of the waters by an angel, because the first person who entered the water after this was cured. Our Lord found one man who had been there for thirty-eight years, and in mercy gave him the healing for which he had waited so long in vain. But in the sacrament of penance Christ dispenses His graces for the healing of all who come. No one is more privileged than another. Catholics should show their appreciation for this great gift by receiving the sacrament of penance frequently and with the best dispositions possible. In this way they will be enabled to keep their souls pure, and get grace to lead a holy life in a world where sin and evil influences are all around them.

“Unless you repent you will all perish.” These words of Jesus Christ are a warning which cannot be disregarded. The man who has committed grave sin and has not repented of it lives in perpetual danger, and if he dies in that state nothing can save him. He does not escape from the guilt of sin by merely forgetting it. Neither will the mere abandonment of sin, or growing out of habits of sin, suffice to save him. It is true that an act of perfect contrition-that is, an act of sorrow for sin inspired by the highest motive, namely, pure love and respect for God will bring remission for sin even for one who does not know of the obligation of confession. But it is just those who need repentance most, those who are under the domination of their passions and frequently commit grave sin, that will be strangers to acts of love of God and will find it hardest to reach the dispositions necessary for perfect contrition. For such the easier way to forgiveness which Jesus Christ has in mercy provided in the sacrament of penance is, ordinarily, their only hope. For this reason alone, if for no other, it is of vital importance that we should do our utmost to open the eyes of all to the truth of the Catholic Faith and the authority of the Church which Christ established for the salvation of mankind.*

SUMMARY

How to confess our sins-number and kind. 2. Considerations which make confession easier : (a) God is infinitely merciful; (b) Every kind of sin can be washed away in confession; (c) How easily the offender against. God’s laws is treated compared with the offender against the laws of the State; (d) There is no publicity (as there will be at the day of judgment); (e) The priest will not be surprised at any sin, nor will he think badly of the sinner. 3. Folly of keeping away from confession because once a priest spoke to me sharply. 4. What to do when there is a great difficulty. b. Do not be afraid to ask advice. 6. The meaning and obligation of the penance imposed. 7. Other obligations that may remain to be fulfilled after confession. 8. Two means of keeping the necessary resolution to avoid sin in future. 9. A great gift, and a motive for zeal.

* G. K. Chesterton has written: “When people ask me, Why did you join the Church. of Rome?’ the first essential answer . . . is, To get rid of my sins.’” (Autobiography, p. 329).

Penance And Self-Denial: Why?

THE SIGNIFICANCE OF LENTEN DISCIPLINE FOR MODERN LIFE

REV. JOHN A. O’BRIEN, PH.D

INDEX

“Lent is a relic from the Dark Ages. It is a shadow projected down the ages of gloom that falls athwart the sunshine of our modern life and happiness. As the Matterhorn that lifts its snow-crowned summit high into the skies of Switzerland, intercepts the slanting rays of the setting sun, and brings premature darkness to the little village nestling in the valley behind it, so Lent robs us of much of the brightness of social life and worldly amusement, casting prematurely across the noonday of our life the shadow of death and the here-after. Its doctrine of mortification runs counter to the very grain of our human nature. It is a killjoy, an anachronism in our enlightened twentieth century. We want a religion of joy and gladness, not of gloom.”

Such is the cry that we hear about us on every side -the cry of the epicurean, the cry of the cynic, the cry of the sophisticated, seeking through a thousand devious routes to find the Blue Bird of happiness. Is Lent really a barrier to our happiness? Is it the mere blind handing down of a custom from the hoary past, that has lost its purpose and its utility for our modern day? Let us face these questions frankly and fairly. For unless a person understands how the observance of Lent promotes his welfare and happiness he is not likely to enter into its spirit wholeheartedly.

EXAMPLE OF CHRIST

In the first place, Lent is but the following of the example of Our Divine Saviour Himself. For the Gospel tells us that immediately after His baptism in the Jordan and before beginning His public ministry, Christ went out into the desert and fasted forty days and forty nights. Through the lips of His precursor, St. John the Baptist, He said to the people: “Unless you do penance you shall likewise perish.” Unlike our modern generals who send their soldiers out into the front-line trenches, while they remain securely behind, Our Divine Master asks us to follow only where He Himself has led. For many centuries the Christian world followed the example of Our Saviour with a rigorousness which we to-day do not even remotely approximate. A few years ago I stood at the foot of Mt. Quarantana, within sight of the Jordan, where the Saviour spent forty days of fast. I saw the sides of the mountain studded with holes, where anchorites had come to dwell, and to follow literally the rigorous fast of the Saviour.

Until the ninth century but one meal a day was taken, and that at evening. During the Middle Ages not only the theatres but even the law courts were closed. War was forbidden under penalty of excommunication. Every activity that might distract the minds of the Christians from the consideration of the condition of their souls and the attainment of their eternal salvation was prohibited. It has only been in recent times that the severity of the Lenten fast has been so greatly mitigated that now we experience but little hardship in its observance.

ANALYSIS OF ST. PAUL

Catholics do not observe Lent, however, merely because Our Saviour fasted, but because of the reasons which lie behind His command-to do penance as the necessary condition for salvation. We do penance for a twofold purpose: First, to atone for our past sins and to satisfy the temporal punishment due for them; secondly, to strengthen our wills so as to prevent our falling in the future.

When psychology will have written its, final chapter on human nature, it will be found that it has given us no more penetrating revelation of its conflicting duality than that which St. Paul disclosed to the Romans when he said: “I see another law in my members fighting against the law of my mind., and captivating me in the law of sin that is in my members.” And to the Galatians he said: “For the flesh lusteth against the spirit, and the spirit against the flesh; for thes e are contrary one to another, so that you do not the things that you would.” Because of this conflicting duality that lay at the very heart of his nature, he found himself yielding to the thraldom of the senses and to the imperious tyranny of flesh against the voice of reason and conscience, so that he was compelled to explain: “The good which I will. . I do not; but the evil which I will not, that I do.”

How aptly do these words of St. Paul reflect the experience of all mankind. Because of this duality in our nature, we find a Dr. Jekyll and a Mr. Hyde, a saint and a demon struggling for the mastery in each of us. In the last analysis it will be found that the whole purpose of all the exercises of the spiritual life is to emancipate the will from the tyranny of the flesh, to make it the ready servant of the reason and the conscience of man.

In order to secure such mastery, self-denial and self-discipline are necessary. The appetite, which is always pampered, petted and indulged, becomes imperious and domineering. By denying oneself at times pleasures that are lawful, we strengthen the muscles of the will, so that it will be more capable of resisting pleasures which are unlawful. That is why in Lent we are asked to give up some pleasures and amusements which are lawful in themselves. We thereby fortify the enthronement of our conscience and our intellect over our appetites and cravings. Then when the temptation comes we shall be able to stand unshaken.

PROMOTES HAPPINESS

Strength of will, which comes through self-denial and discipline, is necessary to success in every line of endeavour-in literature, in science, in art, in commerce, in athletics. Look at the athletes who are training day after day on the cinder track. See those muscles of theirs, at first soft and flabby, change under the dint of daily discipline until they become as sinews of iron. So it is with the Christian, whose will, at first soft and flabby, gradually be-comes like iron under the lash of daily discipline during Lent. This strength of will developed by spiritual exercises carries over into every department of life-making for success in scholarship, in athletics, in business, in life.

Not only does it make for success, but it makes for that subjective correlate of success-happiness and peace of mind. True happiness is found not in the enslavement of the will to the passions, but in the enthronement of the conscience and the will over the appetites and the instincts of man. There is found that deeper and truer happiness which is not dependent upon external circumstances, but is found within-in the kingdom of the mind. Your entering generously into the spirit of Lent will have a far-reaching influence not only upon the success of all your manifold activities, but also upon your happiness and peace of mind.

Some time ago the students at the University of Illinois, U.S.A., honoured at a public mass meeting the young man who carried the colours of Illinois to victory at the Olympic games at Amsterdam by winning the welterweight wrestling championship of the world. After congratulating him upon his great achievement, I asked him how long he had trained for the contest. “Father,” he said, “scarcely a day has passed in the last seven years that I haven’t gone through some special exercise designed to prepare me for that encounter.” No wonder that he was as hard as iron and steel, and able to withstand the assaults of the best wrestlers among all the nations of the world. If men toil and discipline themselves through rigorous self-denial to win a race for an earthly prize, how much greater should be our zeal and earnestness in seeking to win the race of life that leads to a crown of imperishable glory!

CHRIST’S SELF-CONTROL

If one will study with care the character of Our Divine Saviour as portrayed in the Gospel stories, he will find it adorned in an eminent degree with all the qualities which have distinguished the illustrious heroes of the world. Wisdom, power, mercy, and love shine forth luminously from His sublime personality. But as one studies that complex character at greater length and secures a more penetrating insight into it, he gradually becomes conscious that there is some subtle quality there, blending all these into a harmonious whole, which is lacking in the character of the great heroes of the world. There is no jar, no jolt, none of the strange inconsistencies that glare out at us from the lives of the secular heroes.

That quality is the Saviour’s perfect self-mastery, self-control. Never for an instant in all the scenes of the Master’s earthly life is there an incident wherein a rash, hasty, headstrong action mars the even tenor and the surpassing beauty of the Saviour’s unfailing equanimity and perfect self-control. Washington’s greatness bears ever the tarnish of his profanity and ill-temper. Napoleon’s glory. is dimmed by his uncontrolled concupiscence. But when on trial for His life before the court of Caiphas, when buffeted and spat upon by His executioners, even when stripped of His garments and nailed to the Cross, the Master shows no sign of anger or vindictiveness. Never for a moment does He lose that marvellous mastery of Himself.

That is one of the reasons why the name of Jesus stands out among all the names in human history-the solitary example of perfect self-control. As Richter has said: “The purest among the strong, and the strongest among the pure, Jesus lifted with His wounded hands empires from their hinges and changed the stream of centuries.” He taught man the greatest of all arts-the art of self-control.

“Self-knowledge, self-reverence, self-control

In these alone lie sovereign power;

Who conquers self, rules others,

Aye, is lord and ruler of the universe.”

ESSENTIAL FOR SUCCESS

The person who would master the rudiments of the spiritual life must learn the lesson of self-discipline. It is one of the most essential elements for success in the earthly and spiritual warfare which we wage. The paths of life are strewn with the wrecks of men and women conquering others, mastering the arts, unlocking the secrets that lay hidden for countless centuries in the unfathomed bosom of the earth, only to fall victims to their own lusts, perishing in their own unconquered wilderness.

To me there is something tragically moving in the spectacle of Alexander the Great subjugating Greece, conquering imperial Rome, extending his little kingdom of Macedonia over the known world, until he found himself in distant Ecbatana, in Media, Asia, sitting astride his steed and weeping because there were no more worlds to conquer. Within a week Alexander the Great, conqueror of the world, making the earth tremble as his mighty battalion swept across Europe and Asia, lay dead in his tent, a victim to his own concupiscence-his unbridled passion for drink. Instead of sighing for new worlds to conquer, if he had but eyes to see, he would have perceived within himself a kingdom which stretched out as a huge jungle, untamed and unexplored. Alexander the Great will remain for all times as the classic example of the man who was able to conquer all the world, except himself-literally murdered at the very zenith of his greatness by his own untamed passions.

We need not go back to ancient Greece or Rome or Ecbatana, however, to witness the tragic wrecks of uncontrolled passions. Our insane asylums, our homes for wayward boys and girls, scream out at us their message of the frightful retribution meted out to those who allow their lust to subjugate their reason and their conscience. In the very bosom of our society are countless men and women in the untamed wilderness of whose hearts there surge unchecked, wild, primeval passions, pulling them down slowly but surely to the level of beasts, and murdering everything in their nature that is Godlike and divine. The ceaseless gnawings of remorse, the sapping of their manhood and virility by terrible diseases-these are the forebodings of the far greater punishments that await with inexorable justice the transgressors of the Divine law in eternity.

A DYING WRECK

One evening some time ago I was called to the bedside of a stranger, dying in one of the rooming houses for transients in the city. He had gone through all the stages of delirium tremens, and was a complete wreck. The doctor said that he had gone on one spree too many. For this one had caused complications, a ruptured blood-vessel, and his end was a matter of hours. Though only in middle age, his hair was streaked with grey, and his face was heavily lined. Worry and dissipation were stamped unmistakably upon the scarred countenance. Heartbroken, he told me his story. Possessing a good education, he had risen to a high position with a rail-road, when he contracted the habit of drunkenness. Losing his job after a prolonged fit of intoxication, he was ashamed to face his wife and children. He went from bad to worse, finally becoming an outcast among the barrel houses in a large city.

After I heard his confession, he broke into tears, and his whole frame shook with sobbing as he cried, “Father, I would have given anything in the world to have freed myself from this terrible vice of drink. It has brought shame upon my family, whom I love more than anything in life. It has pulled me down into a living hell.” I shall never forget to my dying day the look of desolating anguish akin to despair in his wistful eyes, as he lay there sobbing as though his heart would break.

As I left that bare, drab room, with its dying victim, and came down the creaking stairs of the dingy rooming house, the scene haunted my mind. While hurrying home through the darkness of that winter night, illumined only by the distant stars shining as God’s silent sentinels in the sky, I prayed that God might protect my students, my people, myself, from a tragedy such as I had left behind. For that is the fate which awaits the boy or girl, the man or woman who allows any passion to grow unchecked, until it transforms him from a saint into a demon incarnate-the terrible tragedy of the man who is murdered, not by the hand of the assassin, but by his own brutal passions, slowly strangled to death by his own self.

The whole world watched breathlessly a few years ago the frantic struggle of men to free a victim from the jaws of Sand Cave in the Kentucky hillsides. But they resisted all the assaults of men and machinery, and clung to their victim until life was extinct. So, any passion-intoxication, lust, anger, jealousy-that is allowed to go unchecked, develops into a monster that clings to its victim until it strangles him to a physical and spiritual death. Worse than the fall of a meteor from the sky is the fall of a young man or a woman from the beauty and sunshine of God’s grace into the foul swamp of uncontrolled vice. It is the most tragic note and the saddest that can be sounded in the whole gamut of human life.

THE REMEDY

What now is the remedy? Knowledge merely? “Quarry the granite rock,” says Cardinal Newman, “with razors, or moor the vessel with a thread of silk; then you may hope with such keen and delicate instruments as human knowledge and human reason to contend against those giants, the passions and the pride of men.” Not knowledge alone, but will power is needed. Self-control means strength of will applied to one’s own conduct. How can will power be developed? Our Divine Master has given us the answer when He said: “He that will be My disciple, let him deny himself, take up his cross daily, and follow Me.” By daily discipline, daily self denial, such as Lent brings to us. In no other way under the heavens can there be developed will power and self-control.

The same conclusion was reached by an altogether different method of approach by one of the greatest of all psychologists, William James, when he said: “Keep the faculty of effort alive in you by a little gratuitous evercise every day.” Do something each day that is hard and more than is required in order that your faculty of effort, your will, may not become weak and atrophied through disuse. Thus, strikingly, does science reiterate and reinforce this age-old teaching of the Church.

Before the eyes of a world sick unto death with luxury and self-indulgence, the Church places during Lent the age-old picture drawn by the Master Artist, Christ, of will power developed through self-discipline, of self-control achieved through acts of self-denial. Greater than Napoleon Bonaparte, than Julius Caesar, than Alexander the Great, the conqueror of the world, is the man who has learned through the instrument of a vigorous will to conquer himself. For self-control is the open sesame to success in this life and to eternal happiness in the next. All the after ages have but confirmed the wisdom of those words of an obscure Flemish monk, Thomas a Kempis, written in his monastic cell at Zwolle centuries ago: “He who best knows how to endure . . . is conqueror of himself and lord of the world, the friend of Christ and an heir of heaven.”

“AND UNTO DUST. . . .”

In addition to the great lesson of self-mastery, Lent brings home to mankind the fickleness of the world’s applause and its insufficiency to satisfy the hunger in the soul of man. On Ash Wednesday the Church seeks by a colourful and impressive ceremony to drive home to her children the transiency of this earthly life and the wisdom of seeking to attain the life eternal. The palms which were blessed on the previous Palm Sunday, to remind us of the Saviour’s triumphal entry into Jerusalem, when the multitudes waved them aloft, shouting, “Hosanna to the Son of David,” and strewed them in profusion on the road over which He rode-these palms the Church burns to ashes. Then, summoning her children to the altar railing, she places these ashes on the brow of each in the form of a cross, while she whispers in the ear of each the words of warning: “Remember, man, thou art but dust, and unto dust thou shalt return.”

Why speak to youth in whose eager eyes there burn the fires of life, and on whose cheeks there rests the bloom of youthful vigour-why speak to them of dust and ashes, of death and the hereafter? Why lessen their zest for life and its pleasures? The Church thus speaks to them, not to lessen their zest for life, but to give them a sense of values. She shoves back the narrow horizon of youth, removes the veil from the senses, reveals the transient character of earthly things, and points out the folly of seeking enduring happiness in that which is so ephemeral. The thought of death and the hereafter is salutary at times for old and young, for it prompts one to answer aright that supreme question which the Master addresses to each of us: “What doth it profit a man if he gain the whole world and suffer the loss of his own soul?”

The wholesome effect of a profound realisation of the transiency of human life and human beauty is illustrated by an incident in the life of St. Francis Borgia. Francis was Duke of Gandia and Captain-General of Catalonia, and one of the most honoured chevaliers at the Court of Spain. Isabella was known throughout Europe for her charm, her Spanish vivacity, and for the striking beauty of her countenance. Often had Francis braved death while carrying the banner of Aragon and Castile into the thick of the battle, knowing that he would be rewarded with a word of praise from his beloved Queen. He found his greatest happiness in basking in the sunshine of her smile and drinking in with greedy eyes her charming loveliness.

A LAST LOOK

In 1539 there fell to his lot the sad duty of escorting the remains of his beloved Queen to the royal burial grounds at Granada. In order to verify the body as that of Isabella, the coffin was uncovered. Eagerly Francis stepped forward to take one last, lingering look at the beautiful countenance of his beloved Queen. He had no sooner done so than his face grew livid, his eyes wild with terror, as he shrank back. “No! No! Good God!” he cried; “it can’t be! It can’t be! Those eyes, that face, that smile! They can’t have perished so utterly.” What was the sight that greeted his eyes? A face of wondrous beauty? No. A face hideous and ugly in its putrefaction, the loathsome prey of worms and maggots pulling it back to dust and ashes. “God grant,” cried Francis, “that I seek not to find my happiness henceforth in that flesh which perisheth so quickly, but only in that eternal Beauty which never knows decay.” Francis de-voted his services thereafter to a heavenly King, seeking as a humble missionary to win souls for Christ.

From the most beautiful face in all Spain, for whose look of approval soldiers faced death with a smile, to a sight so foul and loathsome as to fill the spectator with revulsion-what a change! Gaze at the most beautiful face you have ever seen, with eyes that speak like a rapturous symphony, with a smile that warms and endears, and in a few short years will you be able to overcome your loathing to gaze upon it when death has touched it with its finger of decay? “Remember, man, that thou art but dust, and unto dust thou shalt return.”

We need not go back, however, to the sixteenth century for striking instances of the transiency of earthly fame and the fickleness of human applause. On March 4, 1917, I stood in a crowd of 90,000 people before the Capitol in Washington, to watch the inauguration of Woodrow Wilson into the Presidency for his second term. His name was cheered on every side. A gigantic parade marched proudly before him in review. At the triumphant close of the World War, when he sailed for France to dictate the terms of the Versailles Treaty of Peace, he had reached the eminence of world fame. His words about freedom and democracy and the autonomy of small nations had rekindled the hopes of all the oppressed nations of the earth. Unprecedented crowds greeted him at Paris with tumultuous cheering. The eyes of all the world were turned to him, as he stood on the pinnacle of human eminence as a new Moses, heaven-sent to lead the groping feet of the nations into the Promised Land of perpetual peace.

AN AGE-OLD CRY

A few years later I passed by a little home on H Street, where lived a broken old man, unable to take more than a few steps with the aid of his cane. Broken in body, broken in mind, broken in heart, his League of Nations plan contemptuously rejected by the Senate, his opponent swept into office by the greatest landslide in history, the nations of Europe shaking their fists at him for deluding them with false hopes. What a pitiable spectacle! As he gazed out of his window at night toward the Capitol ablaze with light, the scene of his brilliant feats, what memories must have stirred within him!

One night, it is narrated, Mrs. Wilson happened to step into the parlour. The room was dark. Seated in a chair near the front window, with his face resting in his hands, she perceived her husband. There was the sound of a few broken sobs. Placing her hand tenderly upon the bowed head, she asked softly: “Are you ill, dear?” The former President raised his head and looked for a brief moment through tear-dimmed eyes toward the great shining Capitol that had resounded so often with his name. “No, not ill,” he said, “but I realise now as never before the fickleness of the plaudits of the multitude and the emptiness of the glory of this world.” As he sat there, broken in heart and alone, he tasted of that world weariness, that pang of the heart which caused Solomon in his old age to cry out: “Vanity of vanities, and all is vanity, save in loving God and serving Him alone.”

It was echoed again by St. Augustine, when, after running through the whole gamut of sensual indulgence in pagan Rome, he cried out: “Our hearts have been made for Thee, O God, and they shall never rest until they rest in Thee.” Such are the great eternal truths which Lent, with its gospel of penance and self-denial, drives home to a world that is forever tempted to find its happiness over the more beguiling but mistaken paths of ease and self-indulgence.

Nihil obstat:

F. MOYNIHAN, Censor Deputatus.

Imprimatur:

@ DANIEL MANNIX,

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis.

********

Perfect Contrition

BY REV. F. QUIRIJNEN, S.J

INDEX

The dealings of God with mankind throughout history are a divine romance of condescending love and infinite mercy. This truth is splendidly borne out by the doctrine of Perfect Contrition, if we consider it in its proper setting, namely, by recalling to mind what sin is, what makes its malice, and how the sinner can be reconciled with God.

I. SIN AND REDEMPTION

The Malice of Sin.-Sin is a willful offence against God, our Creator and Last End. On God we depend entirely and at every instant. To Him we belong: ―In Him we live and move and are.‖ Therefore His Commandments must be the rule of all our actions. To submit to His will wholeheartedly and to regulate one’s life according to His laws is a strict duty of justice on the part of the creature to its Creator, the servant to His Master. At the same time this service is man’s greatest dignity and the only way of realizing the end for which he has been created, that is, God’s glory and his own happiness.

Now when he commits a grievous sin man destroys the moral order established by God and despises His Commandments. He exclaims as a rebel, ―I will not serve‖; he turns away from his final end, the immutable Good, which is God, and seeks his gratification in creatures that can never satisfy his thirst for happiness.

Even all this does not lay bare the full malice of sin. God is more to us than our Creator and Lord. Through grace poured into our souls in Baptism God has become our Heavenly Father and we His beloved children sharers of His divine life partakers of His very Nature and future heirs to His Heavenly Kingdom. St. John exclaims with joy and enthusiasm, ―See what love the Father has bestowed on us, that we should be called children of God; and such we are!‖ And he concludes: ―Now, therefore, my dearest children, abide in Him and do not sin.‖ Besides being an offence against God’s infinite Majesty, sin has now the additional malice of being a revolt of the child towards his Father. The sinner rejects the love of Him ―Who has so loved man as to give His only begotten Son, that they should possess eternal life‖; he breaks the bonds of personal friendship established by grace between himself and the Divine Persons;he ―crucifies by his own act the Son of God afresh and openly disgraces Him‖; he expels the Holy Ghost, the sweet Guest of his soul; he destroys in himself the Kingdom of God and cuts himself off from the source of eternal life and happiness. Such free and deliberate acts of sin constitute supreme ingratitude and revolt against a God of infinite Majesty, Holiness and Love. Hence the malice of sin is in a certain sense infinite and the sinner deserves in strict justice an eternal punishment: ―Of how much worse punishment,‖ says St. Paul, ―think you, will be judged worthy, who has trampled upon the Son of God, and regarded the Blood of the Covenant, by which he was sanctified, a profane thing. . . . For we know who it was that said, ―Vengeance is mine, I will repay.‖ . . . It is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the living God!‖ St. Paul has here in view the especially grave sin of apostasy from the faith, yet this terrible indictment the sinner will incur for every mortal sin, unless he repents in time.

Reconciliation, the Work of Two .-Sin is the work of man who freely, of his own accord, has turned away from God. But can he also repair his fault, create again order out of disorder, make up for the offence and obtain pardon?-He can, no doubt lament what he has done and do penance for it. Yet, left to himself, all his tears and sighs and sorrow will be of no avail whatever. In no other field does man’s utter helplessness thrust itself so forcibly upon him as when he endeavours to rise from sin. It takes two persons to obtain one pardon. The sinner, says St. Thomas, is like the man who throws himself into a deep pit; he is himself the cause of his fall, but of himself he cannot get out in the same way as he could throw himself into it. God, the Divine Offended, alone can blot out his sin by tendering His pardon: ―Who can forgive sin but God alone?‖

Few points of our Faith are so fundamen tal and more explicit in the teaching of the Church: ―If anyone,‖ defines the Council of Trent, ―maintains that without the previous inspiration of the Holy Ghost and His help, man is able to believe, hope, love or do penance as it behaves, so that the grace of justification be granted to him, let him be condemned.‖

The reconciliation of the sinner with God must, then, of necessity be the work of two: God and the sinner. God’s Part in forgiving is primary and foremost. The initiative must come from Him. He must make the first step towards our reconciliation, by manifesting His will to restore us in His friendship. Is God ready to forgive our sins?-Yes, He is and we must be deeply convinced of this; else our repentance for sins will not be true contrition, but merely the remorse of Judas that led to despair: ―When Judas, who betrayed Him, saw that He was condemned, he repented . . . saying: ‗I have sinned by betraying innocent blood!’ Then he went off and hanged himself.‖

God has manifested His wish and His will to forgive us all our offences by such unmistakable and compelling proofs that still to doubt His mercy would bean offence worse than all our previous sins together. ―God is love,‖ says the Apostle St. John, and ―He has displayed His love in our regard by sending His only begotten Son into the world in order that we might live through Him.‖ The same truth is affirmed by St. Paul, in yet stronger terms: ―God proves His love towards us, because, while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us. . . . ‖

Our reconciliation, therefore, as far as it depends on God, is assured.

The Part of Christ.-God calls us to reconciliation with Himself through Christ and in Christ. Being true man, Christ could suffer and satisfy. Being all Love, He generously embraced the arduous mission signified by His very name: ―Thou shalt call His name Jesus; for He shall save His people from theirsins.‖ He is the Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world. ―He gave Himself up for us, an offering and sacrifice to God.‖ Being true God, His satisfaction had infinite value:

―One drop of His blood has power to save the whole world,‖ says St. Thomas no less truly than beautifully. ―Christ’s voluntary suffering was such a good act that, because of its being found in human nature, God was appeased for every offence of the human race.‖

Thus Christ satisfied for our sins and merited our reconciliation. At the same time He became the supreme model and measure of our reparation and expiation:

―Christ also suffered for you, leaving you an example to follow His footsteps.‖

And remember that Christ merited and satisfied not only for mankind in general, but for each of us in particular. He is the Saviour of the world; He is as much My Saviour. Each one of us may repeat in all truth the words in which St. Paul delighted:

―He has loved ME, He has delivered Himself up for ME.‖

How fitting it would have been for us to have stood under the Cross of our dying Saviour, in order to offer Him personally up to God as a sacrifice for our sins. This was impossible. But, by the Cross His Mother was standing.

Mary’s presence on Calvary at the supreme moment of her Son’s sacrifice was not fortuitous, but willed by God. She represented all of us and co-operated in the Redemption on behalf of mankind by consenting to the sacrifice of Her divine Son, offering herself with Him and accepting for us in advance the fruits of the Redemption.

Man’s Part.-The application of Christ’s merits to each one of us marks the second phase of our Redemption. And here God wants our co-operation-indeed secondary and subordinate to that of Christ-yet absolutely necessary: ―God who created us without us will not save us without us.‖ God deigns to stand in need of us. In this He respects our sense of responsibility and fairness. Since we have been the cause of the offence, it is meet and just we should take our share in the reparation, too. Do we not, deep in our soul, feel prompted to do so? Does our gratitude towards Christ not urge us to the same? As He died for each one of us, so does He now ―call His own by name‖ to co-operate with Him in their own redemption. Can I bear the thought of merely receiving the benefits of such boundless love without rendering love for love, or without proving my love in some way like that in which He has manifested His love first, namely, by generously taking my share in the reparation? But in what does our co-operation consist?-In allowing God to do fully His work in us through Christ. We believe in Christ as our Redeemer. We trust that for His sake God will be merciful to us; hence we begin to love God, to detest our sins and to do penance for them.

The sinner has built within his soul a citadel where he asserts himself and hardens himself against God and His eternal Law. Before he can go and meet God again and surrender, the citadel of evil must be broken down. This is the work of man’s co-operation, his contrition.

II. WHAT IS CONTRITION?

Contrition is an act of sorrow and detestation of sin committed, with a firm resolve it sinning no more. The sorrow and detestation regard the past, the purpose of amendment is meant for the future. DETESTATION is an act of our reason, a judgment of our mind by which we acknowledge to God that we have done evil in His sight: ―Father, I have sinned against heaven and in Thy sight.‖ This detestation is followed on the part of the will by a movement of displeasure and grief, which we call SORROW:

―How have I been able to offend God, my Creator and Supreme Good! Had I but never displeased Him!‖

Finally, as nobody wants to commit again what he is sorry for having done, detestation and sorrow for sin, if SINCERE, necessarily contain the purpose of AMENDMENT or change of life: ―I firmly resolve never to sin again. O my God, I want henceforward to remain Your Child; strengthen me against my malice and my weakness; do not allow me to be ever separated from You again.‖

It is advisable to express this purpose clearly. Call to mind the occasions in which you have sinned and beg God for strength to shun them altogether, or, if this is impossible, to overcome the temptations that will arise again. Yet, this purpose of amendment need not be explicit, nor expressed in words.—Every- sincere conversion to God contains the will to please Him henceforth by the observance of all His laws and hence already implies the purpose of amendment.

THE QUALITIES OF CONTRITION. NOT EVERY REGRET FOR SIN IS ACCEPTABLE TO GOD. IT MUST BE SINCERE, UNIVERSAL AND SUPERNATURAL

1. Sincerity is the first requisite. Suppose a man came and prostrated himself before his king, protesting that he was sorry for having offended him, but all the while was harbouring a murderous plan in his bean. Would such conduct not imply treachery worse even than the previous offence? How much more then ought we to be sincere with .God in our protestations of sorrow:

―Be converted to ME WITH ALL YOUR HEART.‖

2. Sincere contrition is also UNIVERSAL or complete. It must extend to all the mortal sins—which we are conscious of having committed and which have not yet been forgiven.—We must not except a single one. As long as we cherish even one mortal sin, we cannot be reconciled with God. Every mortal sin destroys the bands of friendship with God. We cannot be at the same time God’s friends and God’s enemies. We may dupe ourselves with words, saying: ―O my God I am sorry for having offended You‖; but as long as we cling to so much as one mortal sin, we are but aggravating, our guilt before God; we add this new act of insincerity to the burden of our previous offences. ―Cast them from you ALL your transgressions . . . do penance for ALL your iniquities.‖

Often one is more strongly attached to some particular sinful object. In exciting oneself to contrition one must be careful not to overlook these besetting sins, as one may easily do, owing to the strong inclinations one feels to them.

On the other hand, God is a Father. He does not expect the impossible. Even when some sins have escaped our memory, they will be forgiven with those for which we make our act of Perfect Contrition.

As for VENIAL sins, although Contrition can exist even if we remain wilfully attached to them, yet it is highly desirable to arouse sorrow for them also, at least for those that are more deliberate. For they obstruct the full inflow of grace, make Perfect Contrition more difficult and easily lead to mortal sin.

3. Thirdly, our contrition must be SUPERNATURAL. It must arise under the Inspiration and impulse of God’s grace, be rooted in divine faith, permeated with trust in. the merits of Christ, and offered in union with HIS own sufferings and satisfactions.

Thanks to divine grace, instead of being merely a necessary and hard duty of Justice, our contrition becomes an honour and a privilege. For it consists in co-operating intimately with Christ the Redeemer in the destruction of sin-as intimately as in a body a member cooperates with the head. Contrition consists in ―that wondrous divine dispensation whereby those things that are wanting of the sufferings of Christ are to be filled up by us,‖ and which made St. Paul exclaim: ―I rejoice in my sufferings.‖

Perfect and Imperfect Contrition. Our repentance can be more or less generous. If we fully co-operate with grace, we shall reach Perfect Contrition. A less generous co-operation will produce only imperfect contrition. Both have certain elements in common: both are a sincere, or interior and universal sorrow for sin, produced by God’s grace. But in other ways Perfect Contrition surpasses the imperfect.

Imperfect contrition is a certain displeasure of our sins but not so great as it ought to be. Hence it does not by itself reconcile us with God. Yet it is produced by grace and therefore is good and acceptable to God; it prepared the way to reconciliation with Him, leads us to Perfect Contrition and, IN THE ACTUAL reception of the Sacrament of Penance, becomes a sufficient disposition to obtain forgiveness.

Perfect Contrition, on the other hand, is a thorough displeasure of our sins, a detestation of sin as great as it ought to be. We ought to love our last end, God, the Immutable Good, above all things. Now, sin turns us away from God. It is clear that we ought to detest sin above every evil, ―above all things,‖ supremely, more even than the punishment of hell or the loss of heaven.

But to detest sin supremely because it is an offence against God is equivalent to loving God for His own sake. From this act of perfect love of God contrition derives its perfection. Hence it is best defined as a sorrow and detestation of sin that are animated by the supernatural love of God for His own sake. It is ―contrition perfected by charity,‖ as the Council of Trent declares.

The following are prayers expressing Perfect Contrition:—1. ―O my God, I am heartily sorry for having offended Thee, because Thou art so very good, and I firmly purpose by the help of Thy grace not to offend Thee again.‖

In 1921 the Holy See declared the English text here given to be an accurate version of the original Italian. And in December, 1937, Pius XI (in the new ―Preces‖ No. 26) granted an indulgence of three years every time for every act of faith, hope, charity, or contrition in any form of words found in approved catechisms.

2. The following formula is by St. Leonard:- ―O my God, because Thou art so good, I am very sorry that I have sinned against Thee, and I will not sin again.‖

Other formulas might be cited. They are helps to arouse our souls to Perfect Contrition, but no one is strictly necessary. Contrition resides in our mind and will, not in words. Whenever our sorrow for sin is animated by the pure love of God, our contrition is Perfect. This excellence of Perfect Contrition appears best from a consideration of its effects. But before we begin this study, let us add a few remarks.

1. Perfect Contrition, we said, is a sorrow for our sins, ―above all things.‖ Yet, it is unnecessary, even imprudent, to test our contrition by making comparisons between the evil of sin and the evil of some terrible torture, and asking whether we would choose the torture rather than the sin.

―The contrite sinner,‖ says St. Thomas, ―must, IN GENERAL, be prepared to suffer any pain rather than commit sin, but he is not bound to make a comparison between this pain or that pain. On the contrary, it is foolish to question oneself or other persons on the choice that would be made if confronted with any particular suffering.‖

2. Perfect Contrition proceeds from the pure love of God. Have then motives other than pure love to be excluded? By no means. The love of gratitude towards God, the hope of heaven and the fear of hell, can very well move me to detest my sins SIMULTANEOUSLY with the love of God for His own sake. In practice, therefore, if we feel moved to sorrow for our sins by these lower motives, we must NOT try to eliminate them, by saying, for example, ―O my God, I detest my sins, not because through them I have deserved hell or lost heaven, but purely because they have offended Thee who art my God and King.’ Far better is it humbly to acknowledge:

―O my God, I detest my sins because I have deserved Thy just punishment in this life and in the next, and have lost heaven.‖ Only let us not stop here; let us use these motives as steps to ascend to the motive of love: ―but grant me the grace, I beseech Thee, O my God, to detest my sins chiefly because they have offended Thy infinite Goodness, Sanctity and Love.’

3. Perfect Contrition is often accompanied by sensible emotion which, if it is strong, may manifest itself outwardly in sighs and tears. This is common with the Saints. The innocent little Aloysius of Gonzaga, when going for the first time to confession, was so overcome with sorrow for his tiny faults that he fell senseless at the feet of his confessor. Then there is the touching Gospel scene of the womansinner, who came to Jesus, ―and standing behind at His feet weeping, began to bathe His feet with her tears. . . . ‖ Likewise we read of the Apostle Peter, who had denied His divine Master, that ―the Lord turned and looked at him . . . , who going out wept bitterly.‖

Instances could be multiplied. Must we conclude that without sensible sorrow Perfect Contrition is impossible? No. The saints are intended by God to be our models by their heroic virtues. Their contrition is most perfect. The sensible emotion and outward manifestations of contrition are the outcome of the intensity of their sorrow. They are due to special graces which are, both supernaturally and psychologically, powerful helps in our fight against sin. Nevertheless, no sensible emotion is required for contrition to be perfect.

The reason is simply because we cannot command our emotions as we like; to a large extent they escape the control of our will. Hence God does not require any sensible sorrow. The child, at grips with a burning fever, cannot feel just then that it loves its anxiously watching mother. Does it love her the less for it? The mother herself will be the last to believe so. Again, a mother may usually feel far more affection for her child than for God, yet her love of God-perhaps not felt at all-will be perfect if she is ready to give up her darling rather than see him commit a mortal sin. The child’s love for its mother and the mother’s love for God are independent of their feelings.

Similarly, a sinner may feel little sensible sorrow or even none at all, and yet in his mind detest sin as the greatest of evils and be resolved to give up everything rather than to offend God again. If he is thus disposed, his contrition is perfect, as was the case with the good thief and many other penitents, of whom we do not read that they broke into sighs and tears.

Here one might object: ―If I feel no sensible sorrow for my sins, how can I know for certain that I have Perfect Contrition?‖

Even sensible sorrow and tears are only probable, not infallible, signs that our contrition is perfect. Their absence is no indication that our contrition is but imperfect.

Absolute certainty in this respect no one can reach-except through a revelation from God. In His wisdom and mercy God always keeps us in sufficient uncertainty that we may continue working out our salvation in all humility. On the other hand, if we do what lies in us to acquire Perfect Contrition, especially by frequently praying for it, we may be confident that God will grant us this grace. If, further, we carry out our purpose of amendment by avoiding the proximate occasions of sin and profiting by the first opportunity to approach the Sacrament of Penance-this will be a sure test that our contrition was perfect.

Is then Perfect Contrition something hard and complicated?-To overcome this false impression look for a moment at Perfect Contrition as it sprang up under the touch of divine grace in a model penitent.

Jesus chose not to be crucified alone: ―At the same time two robbers were crucified with Him,‖-‖two thieves, two criminals.‖ How hideous must their degraded souls have looked in God’s eyes!

Jesuswas now the object of scoffing and derision on the part of the mob. One of the criminal’s joined in this insolent mockery, but not so the other. Had he heard Jesus praying for His executioners, and at this extraordinary manifestation of goodness and mercy recognized God in Him? Had he, in his agony, caught a glimpse of the superhuman patience and peace of Jesus? Had the Blessed Virgin all the while been offering Her Divine Son for his conversion?

In any case, grace entered into his mind and opened his eyes to the wretched state of his soul. He began to acknowledge his guilt: ―Justly indeed are we condemned, for we are receiving the due reward of our misdeeds.‖ This humble confession was at once rewarded by further light; he recognized the innocence of Jesus and proclaimed it in the face of his enemies: ―This Man has done no evil.‖ Finally, the light of grace still increasing, he realized there was a secret connection between his own awful sin and the sufferings of this Innocent Man and that this Just One offered Himself a victim and sacrifice for the guilty. Shame and sorrow now make him address Jesus with a prayer, as bold in confidence as it is simple and deep in humility: ‗Lord, remember me when Thou comest into Thy Kingdom.‖

No sooner were the words uttered than Jesus, slightly turning His head towards him, said: ―Amen, Amen, I say to thee, today thou shalt be with Me in Paradise.‖ ―Words full of consolation,‖ says St. Augustine, ―for it leaves place for hope up till the last breath.‖

-―Who could have believed,‖ exclaims St. Robert Bellarmine, in his turn, ―that the thief would have been transferred on a sudden from a cross to a kingdom?‖ All this in virtue of one act of Perfect Contrition. For, asserts St. Thomas, ―today thou shalt be with Me in Paradise‖ was said to him for one act of penance.-Such is the liberality of Our Divine Saviour and the wonderful power of Perfect Contrition.

111.-THE EFFECTS OF PERFECT CONTRITION

A tree is known by its fruit, Our Lord has said. A consideration of the fruits of Perfect Contrition will doubtless still more impress on us its importance and excellence. These effects differ according as a person is in the state of grace or in mortal sin. Presently we take the latter case.

A person in the state of mortal sin is at enmity with God. But God’s grace and the Holy Ghost move him to sorrow and repentance. Corresponding to the grace received, he makes an act of Perfect Contrition. What change takes place in him? Outwardly none. Yet in the depth of his soul things have happened at which the very Angels marvel and rejoice, things greater than the creation of the universe greater, too, than the resurrection of Lazarus, or any other visible miracle wrought by Christ during his life on earth.

Contrition Justifies .-The primary and chief effect which Contrition produces is reconciliation with God. ―Perfect Contrition,‖ the Council of Trent teaches, ―reconciles man with God before the Sacrament (of Penance) is actually received, Reconciliation with God means foremost that justification which St. Paul and St. John never weary in describing, admiring and praising in enthusiastic terms:

You were in darkness, now you are sons of the light and sons of the day -You are renewed, a new creature in Christ Jesus- You have been grafted on Christ; His life flows in you; you are in Him and He is in you together with the Father, whose beloved children you are, and with the Holy Ghost, of whom you have become the living temples. Such are the effects of justification and consequently of contrition.

Perfect Contrition justifies ; it restores the supernatural life of grace to the soul.- According to a generally accepted opinion, through perfect contrition the soul receives again all the sanctifying grace it had before and also an increase of grace in recompense for its act of Perfect Contrition. The words of holy Scripture seem to imply this: ―The wickedness to the wicked shall not hurt him in what day soever he shall turn from his wickedness.‖ Perfect Contrition also restores to life the merits of good works performed in the previous state of grace but destroyed by sin.

Contrition Remits the Guilt of Sin .- Through Perfect Contrition the light and life of sanctifying grace have been restored. By the very fact the guilt of all mortal sins- and also of all venial sins on which Contrition has been made to bear-has been forgiven. ―As a fire which has taken possession of a forest cleanses it out thoroughly, so the fire of love (contained in Perfect Contrition), where it falls, takes away and blots out everything that could injure the divine seed (sanctifying grace).‖-‖Such is the efficacy of true contrition,‖ the Roman Catechism teaches, ―that by its benefit we at once obtain from the Lord the pardon of all, our sins.‖-Perfect Contrition works in us the spiritual miracle promised by the Holy Ghost through the Prophet: ―When you shall seek the Lord with all your heart and in the affection of your soul . . . , if your sins be as scarlet, they shall be made white as snow: and if they be red as crimson, they shall be white as wool.‖

Contrition Remits Everlasting Punishment along with the guilt of the offence against God. An instant ago Hell was still yawning under the sinner’s feet; now Heaven is thrown open to him. He was under the slavery of the devil; now he is ―in Jesus Christ,‖ and, as St. Paul writes to the Romans, ―there is no condemnation to them that are in Jesus Christ.‖

Let us keep this in mind, especially when we visit the sick, or assist someone in his last struggle. Perhaps for some reason or other he cannot receive the last Sacraments. Maybe he is a non-Catholic. Whoever he be, he may easily be taught to make an act of Perfect Contrition for all the sins of his life. He will thus save his soul: and we shall have the immense consolation and great merit of having been God’s instrument in his salvation. What a grand opportunity of con- soling the Sacred Heart of Jesus, who on the cross, thirsted with a burning thirst for the salvation of souls, and feels immense joy ‗‗upon one sinner doing penance.’’

Contrition Remits the Temporal Punishment which remains to be undergone in this life or in Purgatory, after the guilt of sin and the eternal punishment have been forgiven. The more intense the love of God which animates contrition, the greater is the part of temporal punishment which is taken away. ―It may even happen,‖ St. Thomas teaches, ―that contrition which follows from charity merits . . . the remission of ALL punishment . . . because contrition although finite in its intensity, derives infinite power from the charity, whereby it is quickened.‖

A Preservative Against Faults .-One sin leads to another, but also one grace calls for further grace. Perfect Contrition reconciles us with God, makes of us again His friends and beloved children. He owes it, then, to Himself to protect us with a special Providence against new falls. In virtue both of this special Providence to which it entitles us and of the charity by which it is animated, Perfect Contrition makes us again firmly adhere to God as to our Supreme Good. It is therefore an excellent preservative against falls.

Finally, note that all this array of wonderful effects is produced AS SOON AS Perfect Contrition arises in the soul, as instantaneously as when ―God said: Be light made. And light was made.‖ God might have limited His mercy and granted the grace of Perfect Contrition in certain—circumstances only, for example, when a person is in danger of death. But God’s mercy knows no bounds. Since man has the sad power-or rather weakness-of committing sin at any time and in any place, God holds out to him the grace of Perfect Contrition at all times and in all places-a truly marvellous dispensation. Perfect Contrition brings back the resurrection of the soul, its coming back to life, its life in God through Christ Jesus. The raising of the body of Lazarus to life was a great miracle, because by that time he had been in the grave for three days. But through Perfect Contrition Christ daily raises up souls that were dead to God, perhaps for years on end.

(b) If now a soul already in the state of grace makes an act of Perfect Contrition, it is clear there is no question of remitting guilt and punishment. Yet, the effects in this case are not less great: every act of Perfect Contrition produces in such a soul a growth of supernatural life, an increase of the pure love of God and of hatred of sin; a more intimate union with our divine Lord, more particularly with His Sacred Heart ―sorrowful unto death‖ in the Garden of Olives, and a closer resemblance with Him on the Cross. If these acts are repeated throughout the day, they produce the precious sense of compunction, of which we shall say something more below.

Wonderful then is the efficacy of Perfect Contrition! As St. Thomas teaches, it is in a true sense infinite because its power is derived from an infinite power, the Passion and the Death of Christ. Our Lord has first in His own Person grieved, sorrowed and suffered for our sins, that He might now suffer grief and sorrow for the same IN US. When we make an act of Perfect Contrition, it is no doubt our own act, but still more is it His: it is His grace which inspired it and sustains it all along; and it is He who brings it to fruition by uniting it to His own sorrow and Passion, thereby giving it divine and therefore infinite efficacy.

Some more Remarks:

1. Contrition does not dispense from Confession.-As contrition cleanses the soul even before confession, one may ask: ―Why then, go to Confession at all?‖ The answer is that the Sacrament of Penance is the ordinary means to obtain forgiveness. Perfect Contrition produces the same effect, but not independently of Confession. It does so, partly at least- in virtue of the intentionof Confession which it implies. ―The reconciliation (produced by Perfect Contrition) is not to be ascribed to Contrition itself without the desire of the Sacrament (of Penance), which desire is included in contrition,‖ says the Council of Trent. Without this intention of Confession Perfect Contrition could not remit a single sin

Has this intention to be expressly made? No, it is not necessary to think of confession when arousing oneself to Contrition. It suffices that one does not exclude it by the explicit intention not to confess one’s sins. Perfect Contrition, if sincere, includes the will of observing henceforth all God’s Commandments. Now, to confess one’s sins is a divine command. Therefore the intention to do so is contained in the very act of Perfect Contrition. The Catechism summarizes this doctrine by saying: ―Perfect Contrition has this special value that by it our sins are forgiven immediately even before we confess them: nevertheless, if they are mortal sins, we are strictly bound to confess them.‖

Must we avail ourselves of the first opportunity to go and confess the mortal sins forgiven by Perfect Contrition?-No, there is no such obligation. But, of course, it is advisable to go to confession soon after. ―If we fall into mortal sin,‖ says the Catechism, ―we should make an act of Perfect Contrition and go to confession as soon as we can.‖

2. Contrition Does Not Supersede Confession.-Nor is it even meant to diminish the frequent reception of the Sacrament of Penance. The relation between Contrition and Confession is illustrated by the following comparison: ―When you meet with an accident and injure your hand or foot, what do you do? You immediately apply such remedies as you have at hand and then call the doctor at the first opportunity. Do the same for an injury to your soul: Immediately make an act of Perfect Contrition, which is the home remedy, and then, as soon as possible, have recourse to your spiritual doctor, your confessor.‖

When one confesses the sins already forgiven by Contrition, what profit does one derive from the Sacrament of Penance? The profit is manifold. The sacrament increases sanctifying grace and the love of God in us; it diminishes the temporal punishment still remaining to be undergone in this life or in Purgatory. It provides us also with special actual graces which increase our hatred of sin and strengthen us in the fight against temptations. These graces are proper to the Sacrament and cannot be supplied by any other means. The reception of the Sacrament is also the occasion of renewing and deepening our contrition and purpose of amendment.

3. Finally, before receiving Holy Communion,if one has committed a mortal sin since one’s last good Confession, it is not enough to make an act of Perfect Contrition; ONE IS BOUND by precept first to CONFESS the sin and receive absolution for it: ―Let no one burdened with a mortal sin, however much contrite for it he may think himself to be, receive Holy Communion without previous sacramental Confession,‖ says Canon Law. This is the meaning of the words of St. Paul: ―Let a man examine himself, and so let him eat of the Bread and drink of the Cup,‖ as interpreted by the Council of Trent. It is the special reverence, due to the most holy Sacrament of the Eucharist because it contains not only the power of Christ as the other Sacraments, but Christ Himself, which has inspired the Church to lay down this law.

IV. IS IT EASY TO HAVE PERFECT CONTRITION?

We have already cleared the ground for the answer by insisting on two points: (1) Perfect Contrition must proceed from the pure love of God, but does not exclude other motives. (2) No special degree of intensity or duration, no sensible sorrow, no tears and sighs are required for Perfect Contrition.

Evidently it is more difficult to make an act of Perfect than of imperfect Contrition. It is also clear that fervent Christians more easily make acts of Perfect Contrition than the lukewarm. But is Perfect Contrition difficult to obtain for one who has begun to be sorry for his sins? Is it beyond the power of the ordinary man of good will who tries to live up to his moral standards, but is too weak always to avoid mortal sin?

The answer is a decided NO. Any one who sincerely wishes it can with the grace of God make acts of Perfect Contrition. This can be clearly proved from the revelation God has given us about His dealings with men.

Contrition derives its perfection from the love of God. Hence to prove that acts of pure love of God are easy is equivalently to prove that Perfect Contrition is easy. From both the Old and the New Testaments it appears that God has imposed on all men a strict command to make acts of the love of God. Jesus, when asked, ―Which is the great commandment of the Law?‖ answered:

―Thou shalt love the Lord Thy God with thy whole heart and with thy whole soul and thy whole mind. This is the greatest and the first commandment.‖

Now, God is a Father. There is no Father like Him. His feelings are apparent from the fact that ―while we were yet sinners,He sent His only begotten Son into the world and delivered Him up for us.‖ ―His proper quality,‖ says the Church, ―is ever to have mercy and to spare.‖-‖His mercy is from generation unto generation,‖ sings the Blessed Virgin in her Magnificat and who knewthe Heavenly Father better than Mary, herself the perfect created mirror of God’s mercy?

Does a Father burden his children with hard precepts? Still less does God command impossibilities. ‗When commanding,‖ as the. . Council of Trent says, ―God admonishes thee to do what thou art able and to pray for what thou art not able,‖ and in proof of this assertion, the Council quotes St John, who says ―His commandments are not heavy,‖ and Christ’s own words, ―My yoke is sweet and my burden light.‖ When God commands, at the same time He enlightens. When He asks something, He gives the strength to do it. Hence, the very fact that our loving Heavenly Father, who knows the ignorance and weakness of the masses of men of all times and places, requires us to make acts of the love of God is sufficient proof that it must be easy to make such acts.

―In order that, the commandment of love may be fulfilled,‖ St. Francis of Sales writes, ―God leaves no living man without furnishing him abundantly with all the means required. He gives us not a bare sufficiency of means to love Him and in loving Him to save ourselves, but also a rich, ample and magnificent sufficiency-such as ought to be expected from so great a bounty as His.‖

We come to the same conclusion by another argument. God wants to have all men. Hence His Providence furnishes all without exception with the means whereby they can be reconciled with Him. Before Christ the only means for adults was Perfect Contrition, so it is even now for all those who, for want of knowledge or opportunity, cannot avail themselves of the Christian Sacramentsthat is to say, for the vast majority of men. Who then can tolerate the thought that ―this solitary plank, Perfect Contrition, thus made necessary by God, would be so slippery that only a few can seize and hold it, or that this ark of salvation would be so hard to enter into that the vast majority of those for whom it is intended must remain out of it and perish in the deluge?‖ No, God does not impose on us a sorrow for sins that is beyond the power of even the weakest person of good will.

This conclusion is confirmed by the fact that the Church constantly urges us to make acts of Perfect Contrition. What she officially teaches in her catechisms to all her children, in the world or in religion, illiterate and learned, the tepid and the fervent, sinner and saint, is an Act of Perfect Contrition. Now, the Church, a tender Mother- ―pia mater Ecclesia‖-.does not require from her children anything that is beyond their power. Hence, beyond a doubt, in her mind Perfect Contrition is easy to all. Only one thing can make it difficult, to us-our want of confidence in God’s mercy and in the infinite merits of Christ-O my God, I believe, help Thou my unbelief. Transform it, I beseech Thee, into that boundless confidence which animated Thy dear child, the little St. Therese. She writes:

―It is not because I have been preserved from mortal sin that I lift myself up to God by confidence and love. Ah! I feel that even if I had on my conscience all the crimes that can be committed, I would not lose anything of my confidence; I would go, my heart broken with repentances and throw myself into the heart of my Saviour. I know that He cherished the prodigal child, I have listened to His words addressed to St. Magdalen, to the adulterous woman, to the Samaritan . . . I know that all this multitude of offences would be swallowed up in the abyss in the twinkling of an eye, as a drop of water thrown into a burning furnace.‖

V. HOW TO OBTAIN PERFECT CONTRITION

Perfect Contrition is a gift of God, a great GRACE. Only by God in Christ Our Saviour can we have our sins forgiven. Now, the universal means of obtaining graces is PRAYER: ―Ask and ye shall receive.‖

To obtain Perfect Contrition we must, therefore, pray for is-as fervently as a mother beside the cot of her dying child prays for its recovery. Here there is question of our own immortal soul to be restored to the life divine. When we beg God for some temporal favour, we may be refused what we ask for. But the prayer for Perfect Contrition will always be heard. ―Suppose one of you asks his father for a loaf of bread-will he hand him a stone? . . . If then you, who are sinful, know how to bestow kind gifts on your children, how much more will your heavenly Father impart the Holy Ghost to those who ask Him?‖ Jesus here promises to prayer the highest grace, the Holy Ghost Himself. In it the lesser grace Perfect Contrition is certainly included.

Let us then have recourse to God, beg Him to pardon us and count upon divine mercy. Let us imitate the Publican of the Gospel, whom Jesus Himself has proposed to us as a model: ―The Publican, standing far off (in the Temple) would not so much as raise his eyes to heaven,but smote his breast, saying, ‗O God, be merciful to me, a sinner!’ This man, I tell you,‖ Jesus concludes, ―went back to his house justified.‖

As we have said already, to arouse ourselves to Perfect Contrition we need not set aside all consideration of the punishment of hell and the loss of heaven, or of God’s goodness repaid by us with such ingratitude. On the contrary, these considerations will often be very useful to arouse a beginning of sorrow for our sins. However, we should not stop at them, but think of Christ crucified for us and ask God to grant us though Christ’s merits the grace of immediate re- storation into His friendship through Perfect Contrition.

―But, I can pray no more,‖ some will object. In fact, one who has long indulged in mortal o r deliberate venial sin and neglected all prayer will not easily set himself to pray. A sick person finds even the most delicious food tasteless. The fault is not with the food, but with that person’s appetite. Similarly, the sinner, estranged from God and clinging to creatures, may have lost all taste for spiritual things. He finds it hard to fix his mind on God’s supreme goodness and countless benefits, because his will is hardened in its attachment to creatures-How to soften and redirect that will?.

(a) With God nothing is impossible. Following the advice of St. Charles Borromeo:

―Pay a visit to Christ, crucified and. dying for you on Calvary amidst pains and insults of every description. The knowledge that the Crucified One is Infinite Goodness itself, your greatest Benefactor, whom, instead of loving, you have insulted and nailed to the Cross, will awaken in your heart sentiments of love and sorrow that will wipe away your sins even before you enter the confessional.‖

(b) A second means is recourse to the Immaculate Mother of Jesus, our Mother, the Mediatrix of all graces. She has brought forth for us our Redeemer and nourished Him and offered Him a Victim for our sins and on the Cross. Imagine her on Mount Calvary with the dead and mangled body of Jesus on her knees: ―O Mary, here I am to contemplate the evil which MY SINS have wrought on your Jesus. What havoc they have played with His innocent body-His head crowned with thorns, His hands and feet pierced with cruel nails, not a spot on His body left unhurt, unsullied. Neither have they spared you, but pierced your motherly heart with swords of sorrow. .

O Blessed Virgin, pray for me . . . obtain for me the grace never to sin again‖

Often a few words will suffice. Just look at her and at Jesus crucified, and say with her: ―My Jesus, mercy.‖—―My God have mercy on me, a sinner.‖-―My God, I love Thee above all things.‖

(c) A third powerful and attractive means is recourse to the Sacred Wounds of Jesus. Recite, for example, the favourite prayer of St. Ignatius:

―Soul of Christ, sanctify me-Body of Christ, save me-Blood of Christ, inebriate me-Water from the side of Christ, wash me-Passion of Christ, strengthen me-O good Jesus, hear me-Within Thy Wounds hide me-Permit me not to be separated from Thee-From the malignant foe defend me-In the hour of my death call me-And bid me come to Thee- That with Thy Saints I may praise Thee-For ever and ever. Amen.‖

VI-WHEN OUGHT WE TO MAKE AN ACT OF PERFECT CONTRITION

All Catholics know that in a sudden danger of death, the first thing to do is to make an act of Perfect Contrition: think of Our Lord crucified, repent for having offended so great and good a God and then put all one’s trust in His mercy.

But, one may ask, will one have sufficient leisure for his act? With the grace of God, yes, since it requires but a moment, provided, however, that during our life we have made it a practice. In the hour of death we reap the reward of good habits acquired during life. We must, therefore, try and acquire the habit of making acts of Perfect Contrition. Hence:

1. If at any time we have the misfortune of sinning grievously instead of remaining in that wretched state till our next Confession, let us rise immediately from it by making an act of Perfect Contrition. By it we are restored in the friendship of God and all our good works become again meritorious for heaven.

2. A man in mortal sin goes to bed at night an enemy of God. What is his fate should death surprise him in his sleep? If, however, he rises in the morning, he starts his day again as an enemy of God. For days and weeks, perhaps months and years, he continues in this fearful state. Miserable man-in constant danger of being lost eternally. Poor, wasted life!- without any merits for heaven. Yet it is so easy to avoid this: just make a brief examination of conscience, and an Act of Perfect Contrition.

3. But let us aim higher still and try to acquire the habit of studding our whole day with little acts of Contrition. With God’s grace we can multiply these acts throughout the day. Our daily prayers, works and sufferings can easily be transformed into acts of Contrition.

(a) If we pray in the humble disposition of the publican, ―Lord, have mercy on me, a sinner,‖ we shall very often, without even thinking of it have Perfect Contrition, for example when you hear Mass, or make the Stations of the Cross; when you reflect before your crucifix or an image of the Sacred Heart.

(b) The three first petitions of the ―Our Father‖: ―Hallowed be Thy name, Thy Kingdom come, Thy will be done on Earth as it is in Heaven‖ are acts of perfect love of God, and consequently of Perfect Contrition if at the same time we remember our sins.

(c) Similarly, the Rosary, said with the mind quietly reflecting on the Mysteries of Our Lord, especially the Sorrowful Mysteries, easily becomes a prayer of Perfect Contrition.

(d) Our trials and sufferings, too, can be made into so many acts of Contrition. This is beautifully shown by a scene in the life of King David. In his youth David had fallen into the awful sins of adultery and murder. He repented and God let him know that his sins were forgiven. Yet, never in later years did the holy king allow his offences to fade from his memory. In his old age, when his son, Absolom, rose in revolt, David was forced to flee and was met by a man named Semei, who began to throw stones at the old king and to curse him, saying, ―Come out, come out, thou man of blood.‖ . . One of David’s servants, indignant at this insult, said to the king, ―Why should this dead dog curse my lord and king? I will go and cut off his head.‖ But the king answered, ―Let him alone that he may curse as the Lord hath bidden him. Perhaps the Lord may look upon my affliction, and render me good for the cursing of this day.‖ Remembering his sins, the holy king willingly accepted the worst insults in expiation.

(e) The fervent Christian goes further still. Not content with accepting the trials and sufferings God’s Providence sends him he freely, of his own accord, daily adds some mortifications and sacrifices so as to make up for the past by a generous reparation for himself and for others also.

Compunction of Heart.-By the practice of frequent acts of contrition one’s whole spiritual life becomes penetrated with that sweet scentof abiding sorrow for one’s sins which spiritual authors call ―compunction of heart.‖

Compunction consists in HABITUAL CONTRITION, the abiding state of hatred of sin out of love for God’s supreme Goodness. It is a continual participation in the sorrow ofOur Lord for our sins, ―the Sacred Heart leaving faint stigmata of His one lifelong sorrow upon our hearts.‖

The Saints never weary in recommending this compunction of heart. ―We should,‖ says St. Benedict, ―daily confess to God, in prayer, with tears and sighs, our, past sins.‖- The great St. Teresa, formed to perfection by Our Lord Himself, had placed under her eyes in her oratory, in order to make it the refrain of her prayer, this text of the Psalmist: ―Enter not, O Lord, into judgment with Thy servant.‖ This is no exclamation of love, as we would have expected from this seraphic soul, but a cry of compunction. The souls most forestalled with divine favours, she said, are also the most filled with the sense of compunction.

The English spiritual writer, Fr. Faber, narrates how for a long time he was puzzled by the fact ―that so many persons have lofty and sincere aspirations after high perfection, and so few reach it. . . . This must have a common cause. What is it?‖

After long years of inquiries, reflection, and hesitations he came to ―the persuasion that the common cause of all failure in perfection is the Want of Abiding Sorrow for Sin.‖ He adds, ―All holiness has lost its principle of growth if it is separated from abiding sorrow for sin,‖ while on the contrary, ―No vocation will he frustrated by a soul in which there is this abiding sorrow for sin.‖

The Saints are characteristic for their firmness and stability in the spiritual life. Then why that want of firmness in many of those who strive after perfection? ―The reason is most often to be found in the lack of compunction. . . . There is no surer means of rendering the spiritual life firm and steadfast than to impregnate it with the spirit of compunction.

The importance of acquiring this abiding sense of sorrow is strongly impressed on us by the Church. With her uninterrupted offering of the Holy Sacrifice of Calvary, the administration of Sacraments and Sacramentals, the practices of devotion, her Liturgy and all her prayers and exhortations, the Church has but one aim in view: to realize the full ideal to which God calls her, namely, that she might become ―a glorious Church, not having spot or wrinkle, but that she should be holy . . . and unspotted in His sight in charity.‖

Now it is striking how her most solemn prayer, holy Mass, nay her whole Liturgy, are pervaded with the abiding sense of sorrow for ―innumerable sins, offences and negligences.‖

The ―De Profundis‖ and the ―Miserere‖ these perfect and inspired expressions of the spirit of compunction, are constantly on the lips of her priests and religious. And she never tires of exhorting us, in season and out of season, to repentance and contrition. Undoubtedly in her mind-and in this matter she is infallible-the realization of her ideal of sanctity is closely connected with the spirit of compunction or habitual Perfect Contrition. She even allows Masses with special orations to be said for the ―Gift of Tears‖ of compunction. We may aptly close this little exposition of her teaching by quoting the first of these orations:

―Almighty and most loving God, who, to quench the thirst of Thy people, madest a fountain of living water spring out of a rock, draw from our stony hearts tears of compunction, that we may be able to mourn for our sins, and win pardon for them from Thy mercy. Through Jesus Christ, Our Lord. Amen.‖

Nihil Obstat:

F.MOYNIHAN,

Censor Theol. Deputatus.

Imprimatur:

@ D. MANNIX,

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis.

********

Peter And The Papacy

PETER’S PRIMACY

INDEX

There is ample evidence in the New Testament that Peter was first in authority among the apostles. Although St. Peter never called himself “pope” in Scripture, he did indeed have a special apostolic primacy and jurisdiction. The Scriptural evidence for this is substantial and explicit.

Of the Twelve Apostles, St. Peter is by far the one mentioned most often in Scripture. He appears 195 times. The next most often mentioned Apostle was St. John, who is named 29 times. St. James the Greater is mentioned 19 times, St. Philip 15, and the numbers dwindle rapidly for the others.

Among other things, we see that when the Twelve Apostles are listed by name (Mt 10:2–5; Mark 3:16–19; Luke 6:14–17; and Acts 1:13), St. Peter’s name is always first- and Judas Iscariot is always listed dead last. Far more commonly, though, the New Testament refers to simply “Peter and the Twelve,” as if to say that the tempestuous fisherman signified in himself the unity of the whole apostolic college. Peter was the one who generally spoke for the apostles (Mt 18:21, Mark 8:29, Luke 12:41, John 6:68–69), and he figured in many of the most dramatic scenes (Mt 14:28–32, Mt 17:24–27, Mark 10:23–28). St. Peter is the lone Apostle Christ calls out of the boat to walk on water (Mt 1:28–29). Christ preaches the Gospel to the crowds from St. Peter’s fishing boat (Luke 5:3). It is Peter’s faith that will strengthen his brethren (Luke 22:32) and Peter is given Christ’s flock to shepherd (John 21:17). It was to Simon Peter first among the Apostles that God first revealed the Resurrection (Mark 16:7), and the risen Christ appeared to him first (Luke 24:34).

If Christ did make Peter primate, he should be seen acting in that capacity in theInfant Church, after Christ’s Ascension. An examination of the Acts of the Apostles shows that Peter always appears in that position of primacy which our Lord assigned t o him. Peter heads the meeting that elects Matthias to replace Judas (Acts 1:13–26). On Pentecost it was he who first preaches to the crowds (). On Pentecost it was he who first preaches to the crowds ( 40), and receives the first converts (Acts 2:41). He works the first healing in the Church age (Acts 3:6–7). He inflicts the first punishment (Acts 5:1–11), and excommunicates the first heretic (Acts 8:18–23). He makes the first apostolic visitation of the Churches (Acts 9:32). It is to Peter that the revelation comes that Gentiles are to be baptized and accepted as Christians (Acts 10:46–48). He leads the first council in Jerusalem (Acts 15), and announces the first dogmatic decision which still binds us today- comparedwith James” decision which was merely disciplinary (Acts 15:7–11). Despite having received Christ’s revelation directly, Paul went to Jerusalem to confer with St. Peter and have his teachings confirmed by him (Gal. 2:2).

UPON THIS ROCK

When he first saw Simon, “Jesus looked at him, and said: “So you are Simon the son of John? You shall be called Cephas (which means Peter)”” (John 1:42). The word Cephas is merely the transliteration of the Aramaic Kepha into Greek. Later, after Peter and the other disciples had been with Christ for some time, they went to Caesarea Philippi, where Peter made his profession of faith: “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God” (Mt 16:16). Jesus told him that this truth was specially revealed to him, and then He solemnly reiterated: “And I tell you, you are Peter” (Mt 16:18). To this was added the promise that the Church would be founded, in some way, on Peter (Mt 16:18). The startling thing was that- aside from the single time that Abraham is called a “rock” (Hebrew: Tsur; Aramaic: Kepha) in Isaiah 51:1–2 -in the Old Testament only God was called a rock. The word rock was not used as a proper name in the ancient world. If you wer e to turn toa companion and say, “From now on your name is Asparagus,” people would wonder: Why Asparagus? What is the meaning of it? What does it signify? Indeed, why call Simon the fisherman “Rock”? Christ was not given to meaningless gestures, and neit her were the Jews as a whole when it came to names. Giving a new name meant that the status of the person was changed, as when Abram’s name was changed to Abraham (Gen.17:5), Jacob’s to Israel (Gen. 32:28), Eliakim’s to Joakim (2 Kgs. 23:34), or the names of the four Hebrew youths- Daniel, Hananiah, Mishael, and Azariah to Belteshazzar, Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego (Dan. 1:6–7). But no Jew had ever been called “Rock.” The Jews would give other names taken from nature, such as Barak “lightning,” (Judg. 4:6), Deborah (“bee,” Gen. 35:8), and Rachel (“ewe,” Gen. 29:16), but never “Rock.” In the New Testament James and John were nicknamed Boanerges, meaning “Sons of Thunder,” by Christ, but that was never regularly used in place of their original names, and it certainly was not given as a new name. But in the case of Simon-bar-Jonah, his new name Kephas (Greek: Petros) definitely replaced the old.

LOOK AT THE SCENE

Not only was there significance in Simon being given a new and unusual name, but the place where Jesus solemnly conferred it upon Peter was also important. It happened when “Jesus came into the district of Caesarea Philippi” (Mt 16:13), a city that Philip the Tetrarch built and named in honor of Caesar Augustus, who had died in A.D. 14. The city lay near cascades in the Jordan River and near a gigantic wall of rock, a wall about 200 feet high and 500 feet long, which is part of the southern foothills of Mount Hermon. The city no longer exists, but its ruins are near the small Arab town of Banias; and at the base of the rock wall may be found what is left of one of the springs that fed the Jordan. It was here that Jesus pointed to Simon and said: “You are Peter” (Mt 16:18).

WHO IS THE ROCK?

Now take a closer look at the key verse: “You are Peter, and on this rock I will build my Church” (Mt 16:18). To whom, or to what, does it refer? Since Simon’s new name of Peter itself means rock, the sentence could be rewritten as:”You are Rock and (not but) upon this very rock I will build my Church.” The play on words seems obvious, but commentators wishing to avoid what follows from this- namely the establishment of the papacy- have suggested that the word rock could not refer to Peter but must refer to his profession of faith or to Christ.

From the grammatical point of view, the phrase “this rock” must relate back to the closest noun. Peter’s profession of faith (“You are the Christ, the Son of the living God”) is two verses earlier, while his name, a proper noun, is in the immediately preceding clause.

The fact that Christ is elsewhere, called the cornerstone and the foundation (Eph. 2:20, I Cor. 3:11, I Pet. 2:4–8) does not disprove that here Peter is the foundation. Christ is naturally the principal and, since he will be returning to heaven, the invisible foundation of the Church that he will establish; but Peter is named by Him as the secondary and, because he and his successors will remain on earth, the visible foundation.

In short,

Christ is the Rock (Eph. 2:20; I Pet. 2:4–8), and so is Peter by participation (Jn 1:42; Mt 16:18); Christ has the keys (Rev. 1:18; 3:7), and so has Peter by participation (Mt 16:19); Christ is the Shepherd (Ezech. 34; Jn 10), and so is Peter by participation (Jn 21:15–17).

LOOK AT THE ARAMAIC

Opponents of the Catholic interpretation of Matthew 16:18 sometimes argue that in the Greek text the name of the apostle is Petros, while “rock” is rendered as petra. They claim that the former refers to a small stone, while the latter refers to a massive rock; so, if Peter was meant to be the massive rock, why isn’t his name Petra?

Note that Christ did not speak to the disciples in Greek. He spoke Aramaic, the common language of Palestine at that time. In that language the word for rock is kepha, which is what Jesus called him in everyday speech (note that in John 1:42 he was told, “You will be called Cephas”). What Jesus said in Matthew 16:18 was: “You are Kepha, and upon this kephaI will build my Church.” When Matthew’s Gospel was translated from the original Aramaic to Greek, there arose a problem which did not confront the evangelist when he first composed his account of Christ’s life. In Aramaic the word kepha has the same ending whether it refers to a rock or is used as a man’s name. In Greek, though, the word for rock, petra, is feminine in gender. The translator could use it for the second appearance of kepha in the sentence, but not for the first because it would be inappropriate to give a man a feminine name. So he put a masculine ending on it, and hence Peter became Petros.

Furthermore, the premise of the argument against Peter being the rock is simply false. In first century Greek the words petros and petra were synonyms. They had previously possessed the meanings of “small stone” and “large rock” in some early Greek poetry, but by the first century this distinction was gone, as Protestant Bible scholars admit (see D. A. Carson’s remarks on this passage in theExpositor’s Bible Commentary).

Some of the effect of Christ’s play on words was lost when his statement was translated from the Aramaic into Greek, but that was the best that could be done in Greek. In English, like Aramaic, there is no problem with endings; so an English rendition could read: “You are Rock, and upon this rock I will build my church.”

Consider another point: If the rock really did refer to Christ (as some claim, based on I Cor. 10:4: “and the Rock was Christ “- and this presumes, of course, that I Corinthians was written after Matthew’s Gospel), why did Matthew leave the passage as it was? In the original Aramaic, and in the English which is a closer parallel to it than is the Greek, the passage is clear enough. Matthew must have realized that his readers would conclude the obvious from “Rock . . . rock.”

Beyond the grammatical evidence, the structure of the narrative does not allow for a downplaying of Peter’s role in the Church. Look at the way Matthew 16:15–19 is structured:

Simon Peter answered and said: “Thou art the Christ,

. . . the Son of the living God.” Jesus answered and said:

“ . . . Thou art Peter,

“and upon this Rock I will build my Church . . .”

After Peter gives a confession about the identity of Jesus, the Lord does the same in return for Peter. Jesus does not say: “Blessed are you, Simon Bar-Jona! For flesh and blood has not revealed this to you, but my Father who is in heaven. And I tell you, you are an insignificant pebble and on this rock I will build my Church. . . . I will give you the keys of the kingdom of heaven.” Jesus is giving Peter a three-fold blessing, including the gift of the keys to the kingdom, not undermining his authority. To say that Jesus is downplaying Peter flies in the face of the context.

PROMISE OF INFALLIBILITY

Two important things were told the apostle: “Whatever you bind on earth shall be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven” and “I will give you the keys of the kingdom of heaven” (Mt 16:19). Here Peter was singled out for the authority that provides for the forgiveness of sins and the making of disciplinary rules. Later the apostles as a whole would be given similar power (Mt18:18), but here Peter received it in a special sense. And Peter alone was promised the keys.

Let us speak of the first promise.

Christ says:”Whatever you bind, Peter, will be bound in heaven”. [Peter is the binding authority, since the Church is “the pillar of truth” (I Tim. 3:15), not Scripture.]

Now, we know that God “does not lie” (Tit. 1:2), which means that He cannot confirm a lie either.

Therefore, this verse proves that Peter speaks infallibly. Which, interestingly enough, he did authoritatively at that very moment (Mt 16:16), in the midst of a multiplicity of opinions, by proclaiming Christ divinity, under a special inspiration of God.

THE KEYS OF THE KINGDOM

In the Eastern kingdoms, the sovereign king of the realm would delegate the authority and administration of his kingdom to a ste ward (also called “vizier” or “majordomo”), who managed the kingdom—virtually ruling for the king- especially in his absence. The person who was “over the house” had the whole of the domestic affairs of the sovereign under his superintendence. He made decisions which carried royal authority and could not be appealed (cf. Gen 24:2; 39:4; I Kg 3:1; 4:1–6; 16:9; 18:3–16; 18:3; II Kg 10:5; 15:5; II Chron. 28:7; Esther 3:1–2; 8:1–2).

Israel imitated the nations around her (especially Egypt) and adopted their forms of government (I Sam. 8:5). The image of the kingdom keys (Mt 16:19) was therefore a wellknown figure to Our Lord’s listeners, because in ancient Israel, for centuries, there was a divine kingdom established by God with the covenant with David (II Sam. 7:12–13). And we know that the key holder was the son of David, the king of Israel, who held “the keys of the House of David” (Is. 22:22). He was the key holder, as the king of Israel, but he would entrust to the Prime Minister the keys for administration. Just as the master of the house would set the chief steward over a 11the household possessions, so the king, as the one who holds the keys, would give them to his Prime Minister.

So Jesus, “the Son of David” (Lk 1:30–31), the royal heir of the Davidic Kingdom, the key holder (Rev. 1:18; 3:7), quoting almost verbatim from this passage in Isaias, is installing Peter as a form of chief steward or Prime Minister by giving him the keys to the kingdom. He is raising Peter up as a father figure to the household of faith (Is. 22:21; I Tim. 3:15), to lead them and guide the flock (John 21:15–17). Under the new and eternal covenant (I Cor. 11:25; Heb 13:20) extended to all men, Christ the King, to Whom “all power in heaven and on earth has been given” (Mt 28:18), puts Peter as his Prime Minister to govern the whole world in his absence.

JOSEPH AND PETER

In order to understand Peter’s appointment, in accordance with the principle Scripture interpreting Scripture, let us take a close look at

Joseph’s appointment as the vizier of Egypt.

“And Pharaoh said to them: “Can we find such another manthat is full of the spirit of God?” He said therefore to Joseph: “Seeing God has shown you all that you have said, can I find one wiser and one like unto you? You shall be over my house and at the commandment of your mouth all the people shall obey: only in the kingly throne will I be above you”.

And again Pharaoh said to Joseph: “Behold, I have appointed you over the whole land of Egypt”. And he took his ring from his own hand, and gave it into his hand: and he put upon him a robe of silk, and put a chain of gold about his neck. And he made him go up into his second chariot, the crier proclaiming that all should bow their knee before him, and that they should know he was made governor over the whole land of Egypt. And the king said to Joseph: “I am Pharaoh: without your commandment no man shall move hand or foot in all the land of Egypt”. And he turned his name, and called him Zaphenath-paneah” (Gen. 41:38–46).

What was the basis for Joseph’s royal appointment? It was a divine revelation in response to a question from the king. What about

Peter? Was he not appointed steward based upon a divine revelation in response to a question of Jesus, the King of Israel? Joseph was given the sign of official authority, which in Egypt was the signet ring of Pharaoh. Peter received the keys of the kingdom, these being the corresponding sign of authority in Israel.

Pharaoh issued Joseph his second chariot, giving him the status, power, and means to travel throughout the land, governing and ruling the entire land. Joseph was given the charism of infallible interpretation from God and therefore the final word in legal and judicial matters by the king. “The king made him lord of his house, and ruler of all his possessions, to instruct the princes at his pleasure, and to teach his elders wisdom” (Ps. 104:21–22). Peter’s power to “bind” and “loose” in the visible Church on earth was ratified by the King Himself in heaven. Peter was appointed shepherd to feed (care for, teach) the sheep and to tend (govern, rule) the lambs (Jn 21:15–17) in a universal or

Catholic sense.

As soon as Joseph was appointed vizier of Egypt, Pharaoh changed his name to Zaphenathpaneah (which means either “God has spoken and He shall live” or “Savior of the world”). Simon’s name was changed to Peter (“Rock”) by Christ the King to signify a change of status- from fisherman to royal steward—a new calling, a commission. Wherever Joseph traveled, the crowd was asked to bow the knees. Catholics honor Peter with respect and obedience.

MOSES AND PETER

“On the morrow Moses sat to judge the people, and the people stoodabout Moses from morning till evening . . . And Moses said to his father-inlaw: “Because the people come to me to inquire of God; when they have a dispute, they come to me and I decide between a man and his neighbor, and I make them know the statutes of God and His decisions”” (Ex 18:13, 15–16). Moses was the official teacher of Israel—the lawgiver, interpreter and judge (No Sola Scriptura therefore!). Moses also had a direct revelation from God while standing at a huge rock, Mount Sinai. Moses was also infallible in his teachings and his judgments.

The Church Fathers, those Christians closest to the apostles in time, culture, and theological background, clearly understood that Jesus promised to build the Church on Peter, as the following passages from St. Cyprian of Carthage show:

“On him [Peter] He builds the Church, and to him He gives the command to feed the sheep [John 21:17], and although He assigns a like power to all the apostles, yet He founded a single chair [cathedra], and He established by His own authority a source and an intrinsic reason for that unity. Indeed, the others were that also which Peter was [i.e., apostles], but a primacy is given to Peter, whereby it is made clear that there is but one Church and one chair. . . . If someone does not hold fast to this unity of Peter, can he imagine that he still holds the faith? If he [should] desert the chair of Peter upon whom the Church was built, can he still be confident that he is in the Church?” (The Unity of the Catholic Church 4; 1st edition [A.D. 251]).

“There is one God and one Christ, and one Church, and one chair founded on Peter by the word of the Lord. It is not possible to set up another altar or for there to be another priesthood besides that one altar and that one priesthood. Whoever has gathered elsewhere is scattering” (Letters 43[40]:5 [A.D. 253]).

WAS PETER IN ROME?

At first glance, it might seem that the question, of whether Peter went to Rome and died there, is inconsequential. And in a way it is. After all, his being in Rome would not itself prove the existence of the papacy. In fact, it would be a false inference to say he must have been the first pope since he was in Rome and later popes ruled from Rome. With that logic, Paul would have been the first pope, too, since he was an apostle and went to Rome.

On the other hand, if Peter never made it to the capital, he still could have been the first pope, since one of his successors could have been the first holder of that office to settle in Rome. After all, if the papacy exists, it was established by Christ during his lifetime, long before Peter is said to have reached Rome. There must have been a period of some years in which the papacy did not yet have its connection to Rome.

WHAT THE BIBLE SAYS

Admittedly, the Bible nowhere explicitlysays Peter was in Rome; but, on the other hand, it doesn’t say he wasn’t. In fact, very little is said about where he, or any of the apostles other than Paul, went in the years after the Ascension (cf. Acts 12:17). For the most part, we have to rely on books other than the New Testament for information about what happened to the apostles, Peter included, in later years.

Boettner is wrong when he claims: “There is no allusion to Rome in either of [Peter’s] epistles.” There is, in the greeting at the end of the first epistle: “The Church here in Babylon, united with you by God’s election, sends you her greeting, and so does my son, Mark” (I Pet. 5:13). Babylon is a code-word for Rome. It is used that way six times in the last book of the Bible and in extra-biblical works like the Sibylline Oracles (5:159f), the Apocalypse of Baruch (2:1), and 4 Esdras (3:1). Eusebius Pamphilius, in The Chronicle, composed about A.D. 303, noted that “It is said that Peter’s first epistle, in which he makes mention of Mark, was composed at Rome itself; and that he himself indicates this, referring to the city figuratively as Babylon.” Consider now the other New Testament citations: “Another angel, a second, followed, saying, “Fallen, fallen is Babylon the great, she who made all nations drink the wine of her impure passion”” (Rev. 14:8. See also Rev. 16:19; 17:5; 18:2; 18:10; 18:21). These referencescan’t be to the one-time capital of the Babylonian empire. That Babylon had been reduced to an inconsequential village by the march of years, military defeat, and political subjugation; it was no longer a “great city.” It played no important part in the recent history of the ancient world. From the New Testament perspective, the only candidates for the “great city” mentioned in Revelation are Rome and Jerusalem.

“But there is no good reason for saying that “Babylon” means “Rome”,” insists Boettner. But there is, and the good reason is persecution. The authorities knew that Peter was a leader of the Church, and the Church, under Roman law, was considered orga nized atheism. (The worship of any gods other than the Roman was considered atheism.) Peter would do himself, not to mention those with him, no service by advertising his presence in the capital- after all, mail service from Rome was then even worse than it is today, and letters were routinely read by Roman officials. Peter was a wanted man, as were all Christian leaders. Why encourage a manhunt? We also know that the apostles sometimes referred to cities under symbolic names (cf. Rev. 11:8).

EARLY CHRISTIAN TESTIMONIES

Once St. Peter had been martyred, the testimonies of his sojourn in Rome with St. Paul poured forth in a flood from the early Christian writers.

William A. Jurgens, in his three-volume set The Faith of the Early Fathers, a masterly compendium that cites at length everything from the Didache to John Damascene, includes 30 references to this question, divided, in the index, about evenly between the statements that “Peter came to Rome and died there” and that “Peter established his See at Rome and made the bishop of Rome his successor in the primacy.”

Perhaps the most detailed of these early accounts came from St. Irenaeus of Lyons (d. 200) in his apologetics work, Against Heresies. He gave a detailed account of succession of the bishops of Rome, from St. Peter down to his own day. He referred to Rome as the city “where Peter and Paul proclaimed the gospel and founded the Church.” Clement wrote his Letter to the Corinthians perhaps before the year 70, just a few years after Peter and Paul were killed; in it he made reference to Peter ending his life where Paul ended his. Other notable early examples were St. Ignatius of Antioch (d. 107), who referred to the Church at Rome as “the Church of Peter and Paul” (Letter to the Romans); St. Cyprian (d. 251), who described Rome as “The place of Peter” (Epistle 52); and St. Jerome (d. 420), who called Rome “the See of Peter” (Epistle 15, to Pope Damasus). Around A.D. 166, Bishop Dionysius of Corinth wrote to Pope Soter, “You have also, by your very admonition, brought together the planting that was made by Peter and Paul at Rome . . .” (quoted in Eusebius, Ecclesiastical History, 2:25).

No ancient writer claimed Peter ended his life anywhere other than in Rome. On the question of Peter’s whereabouts they are in agreement, and their cumulative testimony carries enormous weight.

WHAT ARCHAEOLOGY PROVED

There is much archaeological evidence that Peter was at Rome; to the point that Pope Paul VI was able to announce officially something that had been discussed in archaeological literature and religious publications for years: that the actual tomb of the first pope had been identified conclusively, that his remains were apparently present, and that in the vicinity of his tomb were inscription s identifying the place as Peter’s burial site, meaning early Christians knew that the prince of the apostles was there. The story of how all this was determined, with scientific accuracy, is too long to recount here. It is discussed in detail in John Evangelist Walsh’s book, The Bones of St. Peter. It is enough to say that the historical and scientific evidence is such that no one willing to look at the facts with an open mind can doubt that Peter was in Rome. To deny that fact is to let prejudice override reason.

PETER’S SUCCESSORS

The Catholic Church has consistently taught from the first centuries that the office of Peter is an office that continues to exist and exercise the authority of the keys.

Did Christ the King need a royal steward only during Peter’s lifetime, only until A.D. 67? Did the kingdom end and therefore no longer need the vizier? Did the office of royal steward lie vacant after Peter with the keys put in cold storage? So, if Christ did set up such an organization, he must have provided for its continuation (cf. Mt 7:24–25).

The vizier was an office of supreme importance to the kingdom of Egypt. When the vizier died the office did not: another man would be appointed to fill the vacant office. In the kingdom of the Medes and the Persians, when Haman, the wicked vizier was hung by the neck, Mordecai succeeded to his office and, as a sign, was given the royal seal (Esther 8:1–2). In Israel, this appears clearly in Isaias 22 in which God announces that Eliakim will be Shebna’s successor. The Scriptures (especially I & II Kg) show that the office of steward was one of succession—it was always filled. Since Jesus restored the throne of David, he also restored the office of royal steward.

Moses” teaching authority(symbolized by “the seat of Moses” Mt 23:1–3) continued through the centuries, through succession, and was still prominent in the synagogues almost two thousand years later.1

“Bible Christians” do not think Christ established a visible Church, which means they do not believe in a hierarchy of bishops headed by the pope.

However, the New Testament shows the apostles setting up, after their Master’s instructions, a visible organization and provide for their successors (Acts 1:15–20; Titus 1:5; II Tim. 1:6; 2:2), something all Christians until the Reformation fully recognized.

MOSES AND AARON, WHEN THIS PRIESTHOOD WAS THEIRS, SUFFERED MUCH; AND CAIPHAS, WHEN HE HAD THEIR CHAIR, PERSECUTED AND CONDEMNED THE LORD . . . AFTERWARDS MOSES WAS SUCCEEDED BY PETER, WHO HAD COMMITTED TO HIS HANDS THE NEW CHURCH OF CHRIST, AND THE TRUE PRIESTHOOD (SAINT MACARIUS [CA. 300–390] HOMILY 26).

POPE CLEMENT

The earliest account we have of a bishop of Rome exercising authority in another diocese comes from St. Clement’s Epistle to the Corinthians. It was written by Clement, bishop of Rome, around the year A.D. 80. In it he responds to the Corinthians’ plea for his intervention. The entire letter is written in a fatherly, kind way, but it is also clear that Clement was quite aware he had a special authority. Two key phrases stand out as testimony of this: “But if any disobey the words spoken by Him [Christ] through us, let them know that they will involve themselves in sin and no small danger”; and “For you will give us joy and gladness if, obedient to what we have written through the Holy Ghost, you root out the lawless anger of your jealousy” (59, 63). Clearly, this early bishop of Rome wrote as one who expected his words to be obeyed.

POPE VICTOR I

One of the best examples, perhaps, of papal authority in the Early Church is Pope Victor I”s (189–199) who worked to settle a dispute among the bishops of the East and West over when to celebrate Easter. Most of the bishops followed his decision to celebrate it on the first Sunday after Passover. Bishop Polycrates of Ephesus resisted on the grounds that his custom was derived from St. John the beloved Apostle. For this, Pope Victor excommunicated him. (Then, at the urging of St. Irenaeus, Bishop of Lyons, he withdrew the excommunication.) But the facts to be noted are that Pope Victor took for granted his right to punish by excommunication and that that right was never questioned either by the victims of its use, the Christians of Asia Minor, or by St. Irenaeus, who disagreed with the advisability of using it on this occasion.

ST. IRENAEUS

“The blessed apostles [Peter and Paul], having founded and built up the Church [of Rome] . . . handed over the office of the episcopate to Linus” (Against Heresies 3:3:3 [A.D. 189]).

TERTULLIAN

“This is the way in which the apostolic churches transmit their lists: like the church of the Smyrneans, which records that Polycarp was placed there by John, like the church of the Romans, where Clement was ordained by Peter” (Demurrer Against the Heretics 32:2 [A.D. 200]).

ST. CYPRIAN OF CARTHAGE

“If someone [today] does not hold fast to this unity of Peter, can he imagine that he still holds the faith? If he [should] desert the chair of Peter upon whom the Church was built, can he still be confident that he is in the Church?” (The Unity of the Catholic Church 4; first edition [A.D. 251]).

“Cornelius was made bishop by the decision of God and of his Christ, by the testimony of almost all the clergy, by the applause of the people then present, by the college of venerable priests and good men, at a time when no one had been made [bishop] before hi m- when the place of [Pope] Fabian, which is the place of Peter, the dignity of the sacerdotal chair, was vacant. Since it has been occupied both at the will of God and with the ratified consent of all of us, whoever now wishes to become bishop must do so outside. For he cannot have ecclesiastical rank who does not hold to the unity of the Church” (Letters 55:[52]):8 [A.D. 253]).

ST. JEROME

“[Pope] Stephen . . . was the blessed Peter’s twenty-second successor in the See of Rome” (Against the Luciferians 23 [A.D. 383]).

ST. AMBROSE OF MILAN

“They [the Novatian heretics] have not the succession of Peter, who hold not the chair of Peter, which they rend by wicked schism; and this, too, they do, wickedly denying that sins can be forgiven [by the sacrament of confession] even in the Church, whereas it was said to Peter: “I will give unto thee the keys of the kingdom of heaven, and whatsoever thou shalt bind on earth shall be bound also in heaven, and whatsoever thou shall loose on earth shall be loosed also in heaven”[Mt 16:19]” (Penance 1:7:33 [A.D. 388]).

ST. AUGUSTINE

“If all men throughout the world were such as you most vainly accuse them of having been, what has the chair of the Roman Church done to you, in which Peter sat, and in which Anastasius sits today?” (Against the Letters of Petilani 2:118 [A.D. 402]).

“If the very order of episcopal succession is to be considered, how much more surely, truly, and safely do we number them from Peter himself, to whom, as to one representing the whole Church, the Lord said, “Upon this rock I will build my Church” . . . [Mt 16:18]. Peter was succeeded by Linus, Linus by Clement, Clement by Anacletus, Anacletus by Evaristus . . .” (Letters 53:1:2 [A.D. 412]).

PAPAL INFALLIBILITY

Christ, the Master, the Rabbi sent by the Father (Mt 7:28–29; 23:8–10; Jn 1:17–18; 13:13–15) handed over to the Apostles his own mission (Jn 17:18; 20:21). He instructed the Church to preach everything He taught (Mt 28:19–20) and promised the protection of the Holy Ghost to “guide you into all the truth” (Jn 16:13). That mandate and that promise guarantee the Church will never fall away from his teachings, even if individual Catholics might. The Church is indeed “the pillar and foundation of the truth” (I Tim. 3:15). If the Church is the foundation of religious truth in this world, then it is God’s own spokesman. As Christ told His disciples: “He who hears you hears Me, and he who rejects you rejects Me, and he who rejects Me rejects Him who sent Me” (Lk 10:16). Since Christ promised that the gates of Hell shall never prevail against His Church (Mt 16:19), that the Holy Ghost, “the Spirit of truth” (Jn 15:26) shall teach her all things (Jn 14:26; 16:12–13), and that He Himself will be with her all days, even to the consummation of the world (Mt 28:20; Acts 1:8), we hold for certain that the Catholic Church is infallible, i.e. that she cannot err in what she teaches as to faith or morals.

Infallibility belongs in a special way to the pope as head of the bishops (Mt 16:17–19; Jn 21:15–17). It is a charism the pope enjoys in virtue of his office, when, as the supreme shepherd and teacher of all the faithful, who confirms his brethren (the bishops) in their faith (Luke 22:32), he proclaims by a definitive act some doctrine of faith or morals. Therefore his definitions, of themselves, and not from the consent of the Church, are justly held irreformable, for they are pronounced with the assistance of the Holy Ghost, an assistance promised to him in blessed Peter.

Christ said to Peter: “Whateveryou bind, will be bound in heaven”. Based on this divine authority, Pope Pius IX defined 4 necessary conditions for papal infallibility, in Pastor Aeternus (1870):

1. the Pope must speak ex cathedra, i.e. as Pastor and Doctor of all Christians;

2. he must define a doctrine;

3. regarding faith and morals;

4. to be held (as binding) by the Universal Church;

Although the individual bishops do not enjoy the prerogative of infallibility, they can nevertheless proclaim Christ’s doctri ne infallibly. This is so, even when they are dispersed around the world, provided that while maintaining the bond of unity among themselves and with Peter’s successor, and while teaching authentically on a matter of faith or morals, they concur in a single viewpoint as the one which must be held conclusively. This authority is even more clearly verified when, gathered together in an ecumenical council, they are teachers and judges of faith and morals for the universal Church. Their definitions must then be adhered to with the submission of faith.

INFALLIBILITY: RECENT ROMAN PREROGATIVE?

The infallibility of the Pope is not a doctrine that suddenly appeared in Church teaching; rather, it is a doctrine which was implicit in the early Church. For example, Cyprian of Carthage, writing about 256, puts the question this way: “Would the heretics dare to come to the very seat of Peter whence apostolic faith is derived and whither no errors can come?” (Letters 59 [55], 14). In the fifth century, St. Augustine said in regard to the Pelagians:” . . . two councils have sent to the Apostolic See, whence also reports have come; the case is closed” (Sermon 131, 10). Based on this, an oft-quoted dictum was derived:”Roma locuta, causa finita. Rome has spoken, the case is closed.”

COMMON PROTESTANT MISCONCEPTIONS OF PAPAL INFALLIBILITY

Fundamentalists and other “Bible Christians” often confuse the charism of papal “infallibility” with “impeccability.” They imagine Catholics believe the Pope cannot sin. Others, who avoid this elementary blunder, think the pope relies on some sort of amulet or magical incantation when an infallible definition is due.

Some ask how Popes can be infallible if some of them lived scandalously. This objection of course, illustrates the common con fusion between infallibility and impeccability. There is no guarantee that Popeswon’t sin or give bad example. (The truly remarkable thing is the great degree of sanctity found in the papacy throughout history; the “bad Popes” stand out precisely because they are so rare.)

Actually, the sacred writers upon writing what was inspired to them by God were infallible. Even King David, not long before an adulterer and a murderer! Moses was infallible in his judgments; yet, he offended God by not believing in Him (Num. 20; Dt 32:51–52). And Caiphas, though a wicked man, uttered inspired prophecy, in his position as a high priest (Jn 11:49–55). In spite of their sins, God still was able to use them to teach infallibly. Other people wonder how infallibility could exist if some popes disagreed with others. This, too, shows an inaccurate understanding of infallibility, which applies only to solemn, official teachings on faith and morals, not to disciplinary decisions or even to unofficial comments on faith and morals. A Pope’s private theological opinions are not infallible, only what he solemnly defines is considered to be infallible teaching.

Even Fundamentalists and Evangelicals who do not have these common misunderstandings often think infallibility means that Popes are given some special grace that allows them to teach positively whatever truths need to be known, but that is not quite correct, either. Infallibility is not a substitute for theological study on the part of the pope. What infallibility does do is prevent a Pope from solemnly and formally teaching as “truth” something that is, in fact, error. It does not help him know what is true, nor does it “inspire” him to teach what is true. He has to learn the truth the way we all do—through study- though, to be sure, he has certain advantages because of his position.

POPE FICTIONS

John Henry Newman, a Protestant scholar who converted to Catholicism in 1845 and became a leading apologist and later a cardinal, said in his book Apologia: “When I was young, I thought the pope to be the anti-Christ. At Christmas 1824 I preached a sermon to that effect.” If Newman could be brought to see the truth, so anyone can.

It is clear that Peter was married (Mt 8:14; Mk 1:30; see also I Cor 9:5). Celibacy was not a requirement for an Apostle of Christ. Were Peter to come back on earth, he would not qualify as a candidate for papacy.

Among the Apostles, only St. Peter is known to have been married due to the fact his mother-in-law is mentioned in the Gospels. Some of the others might have been married but there is a clear indication that all of them left everything, including their families, to follow Christ.

Thus, in the Gospels, one reads that St. Peter told Our Lord: “ We left all we had to follow you.” In return, the Divine Master said:”Itell you solemnly, there is no one who has left house, wife, brothers, parents or children for the sake of the kingdom of God, who will not be given repayment many times over in this present time and, in the world to come, eternal life” (Lk 18:28–30; Mt 19:27–30).

“Anyone who loves his father or mother more than me is not worthy of me; anyone who loves his son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me; and anyone who does not take his cross and follow me is not worthy of me” (Mt. 10:37,38).

“In the same way, any of you who does not give up everything he has cannot be my disciple” (Lk. 14:33).

When Peter was at Antioch, he refused to eat with Gentile Christians in order not to offend certain Jews from Palestine (Gal. 2:11–16). For this Paul rebuked him. This biblically demonstrates papal fallibility.

Not at all. Peter’s actions had to do with matters of discipline, not with issues of faith or morals.

Furthermore, the problem was Peter’s actions, not his teaching. The problem was that he wasn’t living up to his own teaching. Thus, in this instance, Peter was not doing any teaching; much less was he solemnly defining a matter of faith or morals.

Fundamentalists must also acknowledge that Peter did have some kind of infallibility—they cannot deny that he wrote two infallible epistles of the New Testament. So, if his behavior at Antioch was not incompatible with this kind of infallibility, neither is bad behavior contrary to papal infallibility in general.

POPE ZOSIMUS (417–418) SUPPORTED PELAGIUS’ HERESY AND, ARMED WITH HIS PAPAL AUTHORITY, CONDEMNED THE AFRICAN BISHOPS AMONG WHOM STOOD AUGUSTINE OF HIPPO; BUT THEY RESISTED HIM

Pelagius was condemned by the bishops of North Africa for his heresy on grace. On Jan. 27, 417, Pope Innocent expressed his agreement with the African decisions, asserted the necessity of inward grace, rejected the Pelagian errors about original sin, and declared Pelagius and Coelestius excommunicated until they should return to orthodoxy. In about six weeks more he was dead: but Zosimus, his successor, was scarcely installed in his place before Coelestius appeared at Rome in person to plead his cause; while shortly afterwards letters arrived from Pelagius addressed to Innocent, attempting to enlist Rome in his favor. Pope Zosimus, went over to Coelestius at once, upon his profession of willingness to anathematize all doctrines which the pontifical see had condemned or should condemn; he then wrote a sharp letter to Africa, proclaiming Coelestius “Catholic,” and requiring the Africans to appear within two months at Rome to prosecute their charges, or else to abandon them. The Pope had been deceived by the two clever heretics. The African bishops stood firm and informed the Pope of the deceitfulness of Pelagius and Coelestius. He finally agreed to condemn them publicly.

In this case, Pope Zosimus made a mistake of appreciation; but he did not profess in any way the heresy of pelagianism. Moreover, it is interesting to see that all, the two heretics and the African bishops, had recourse to Rome to settle the question: clear sign that they believed in papal infallibility.

POPE HONORIUS (625–638) HELD A HERETICAL VIEW OF JESUS (THAT HE HAD ONLY ONE WILL) AND WAS LATER ON CONDEMNED BY THE 6TH ECUMENICAL COUNCIL (680) AS A HERETIC

The Council of Chalcedon (451) taught that in Christ there are two natures, divine and human. A heresy named Monothelitism sprang up, that believed that Christ had only will, a combination of the divine and the human. Sergius, the patriarch of Const antinople, gained to the heresy, wrote to the Pope regarding this issue. Pope Honorius, in a passing expression of his private answer to Sergius, imprudently approved the heresy. This is History (cf. Mansi, vol. 11, p. 285).

Pope Agatho (678–681) condemned Pope Honorius as a heretic, and Pope Leo II (682–683) confirmed that decision, and the three councils did the same. Moreover, Pope Agatho said that Pope Honorius could be classed as a heretic and yet his condemnation would not infringe on papal infallibility due to the simple fact that Honorius’ statement to Sergius was not a universal and binding teaching of the papal office.

Remember, Vatican Council I found 44 instances of papal error (Honorius was one of them) before they defined papal infallibil ity. All those errors were not regarded as being in the class of infallible statements that Vatican Council I deemed infallible.

In the middle ages, there was a “ Pope Joan,” a woman who hid her gender and rose through the ranks of the Church, became a cardinal and was elected pope. No one knew she was a woman until, during a papal procession through the streets of Rome, she went into labor and gave birth to a child. She and the baby were killed on the spot by the mob, enraged at her imposture.

A lot of things are said about the alleged “Pope Joan.” Depending on who is telling the story, she was a courageous feminist, a clever opportunist, a brilliant scholar who couldn’t make it as a woman in a man’s world. She is said to have been a wise ruler and an astute theologian, though, oddly, no decree or theological teaching purporting to have come from her has made its way down to our da y. In any case, the fact is, there was no Pope Joan. She exists only as pure legend. The primary proofs that this is all just a fable are these: First, the earliest point that we can trace the legend to is the mid-13th century, but the legend didn’t really gain wide currency until the late 14th century. No evidence of any kind exists from the ninth century (when Pope Joan was alleged to have reigned), nor do we see any in the 10th through 12th centuries. None of the annals or acts of the Popes that were written between the ninth and 13th centuries (and none after that, either) mention her.

Church historian J.P. Kirsch wrote that “Not one contemporaneous historical source among the papal histories knows anything about her; also, no mention is made of her until the middle of the 13th century. Now it is incredible that the appearance of a ‘pop ess,’ if it was a historical fact, would be noticed by none of the numerous historians from the 10th to the 13th century. In the history of the Popes, there is no place where this legendary figure will fit in. Between Leo IV and Benedict III, where Martinus Polonus places her, she cannot be inserted . . .” (Article on Pope Joan, Catholic Encyclopedia, 1913).

So where did the legend come from? There are two likely possibilities. The first is that the Roman population became disgusted with the corrupt influence wielded over Pope Sergius (reigned 904–911) by the powerful and wealthy Theodora Theophylact, and more specifically by her young daughter Morozia, a cunning and exceptionally attractive woman. It appears that Morozia was Sergius ‘ mistress and bore him at least one son (the future Pope John XI). The fabulously wealthy and prestigious Theophylact family wielded immense power in Rome during the 10th century, even, sadly, over several Popes. This is a sorry episode in the history of the Church, one which displayed a decadence and immorality that even Popes, at times, could fall prey to—a reminder to us all that men, even the holiest of men, are not invulnerable to temptation and personal weakness. Despite their sins, Christ’s promise that the Church would be protected from error was not, nor has it ever been, broken.

From the details of Sergius III’s pontificate, it seems clear that he was a vain, violent and sensuous man. It’s quite possible that the disgusted faithful took to mocking him or one of his immediate successors because he was perceived to have been under the influence of the Theophylact women. Some historians trace the legend of a female pope to Morozia, saying the people called her “Pope Joan” to mock the weak popes she controlled, in the same way some American first ladies have been called “president” to mock their perceived weak husbands.

Another possible explanation for the Pope Joan legend lies in the conduct of the much maligned Pope John VIII (reigned 872–882). He appears to have had a very weak personality, even perhaps somewhat effeminate. Cardinal Baronius, in his Church history Annals, suggests that John VIII’s reputation as effeminate gave rise to the legend. Indeed, it would seem that over time, the common folk adde d ever more lurid embellishments until the vulgar jokes about the hapless (and certainly male) Pope ballooned and metamorphosed into a female “popessa.”

Pilgrimage To Lisieux

DR. LUXFORD MEAGHER

INDEX

The pilgrimage to Lisieux about which Dr. Luxford Meagher writes took place thirty years ago (1927). Many changes have occurred since then in Lisieux and other places mentioned. The magnificent Basilica has been built and blessed and is now used for public worship. But the reflections of the author are as pertinent today as when first written.

IN my University days a friend drew my attention to the cult of the “Little Flower” then spreading at a rapid rate throughout the world. Marie Therese, she said, had obtained many favours for her. I prayed to the Saint and was cured of a condition which my doctor had assured me would require an operation.

Some years later, when travelling abroad, I met an American Protestant gentleman who had a child-like devotion to the Saint. Threatened with total blindness, he had recourse to her, and was favoured with an alleviation of his state. He could observe a hand passed before the face and was even able to distinguish one’s features dimly. Poor, pathetic man! Fate seemed to throw him in my way. After our first meeting in London, I met him again, quite accidentally, in Paris. What was really touching in his case was his whole-souled tender devotion to his protectress whom he looked upon as a sister. Filled with a crusading vigour to enhance her fame he abandoned the practice of his profession as an accountant and formed an association of clients of Marie Therese. Accompanied by his wife he went about lecturing on his own personal experience, and distributing literature concerning the Saint. He could claim that his own efforts had borne some fruit, for, as the world knows now, Marie Therese was canonised on the morning of May 17, 1925.

I thought about this gentleman many times after our last meeting and felt rather ashamed that in view of my own cure I had not been inspired with an equal passion of gratitude. So when, in 1927, my affairs permitted, I made a pilgrimage to Lisieux. I remember vividly kneeling one summer afternoon in that year, before the grille at the local Carmel, speaking to the Prioress, a sister of Marie Therese. I was making an extraordinary request, asking for assistance in paying a literary tribute to the Saint. The reply was: “Use the means at your disposal. Pray to Therese and she will give strength to your pen.” So, I make my prayer: “O Little Flower of Jesus, Marie Therese Martin, Saint of God, aid me now, ingrate that I am.”

Amid the thorns and brambles of my recital, may the reader inhale somewhat of the fragrance of the beautiful Rose of Carmel. Here then is the story of my pilgrimage to Lisieux in thanksgiving to the Saint:

A writer needs special qualifications for special tasks. For descriptions, he requires the courage to let his pen run on; for the explanation of an art, a knowledge of that art; for a dissertation upon science, a knowledge of what constitutes the scientific method. Hardihood suffices for some tasks. Alas, knowledge alone is not sufficient for others. Gifts of the spirit are needed, too. To be expert in hagiography means to be somewhat of a saint oneself. Merely to write about a saint is a pleasing task even though the result may not be brilliantly successful. And we may hope that the saints, kinder than all other subjects, will aid our deficiencies if we appeal to them confidently for support in the exercise of our talents. I like to think that special methods of approach are helpful in the case of individual saints. One could go, for instance, with the gloves off, to Saint John of the Cross; an upright intention would be enough in the case of Saint Ignatius; but who would introduce us to the Little Flower? Yes, humility is necessary in order to write about her. Humility, and also, confidence, for that is the spirit which she breathes, and the lesson which she teaches at Lisieux—confident approach to her Divine Lover. It seems to me that she represents Our Lord to us in His tender aspects, as the Infant Jesus, as Him of the Sacred Heart.

I went to Lisieux to say my own private prayers. Let us consider this matter from a worldly point of view. Here was I, a man in the world, going to consult a powerful advocate in Heaven, about my own pressing necessities. I went as a Catholic believer to the shrine of one who on earth was a weak little woman. From the Catholic point of view this is easily understood. If I deserved it, and as much as, and probably more than I deserved, and in spite of my demerits, and as a reward for some semblance of goodwill, I should get, spiritually, something-perhaps much more than I asked. Let us think about it from the point of view of an atheist. From this point of view, my action was worse than a waste of time-a folly. What are the facts concerning Marie Therese Martin? She was a young French girl who died of tuberculosis at the age of 23. She was very pious and good from childhood age, and at the age of fifteen entered the convent of the Carmelites at Lisieux and she died in it without going outside again. These being the circumstances, it could be said by a worldling that she “did nothing.” She lived a good life. She was a refined, intelligent person. She wrote some charming poetry in praise of God. She made no discoveries in the natural sciences. Her humanistic studies were not profound. To literature she made the contribution already mentioned, but it must be said she added the story of her own life which some consider a literary as well as a spiritual masterpiece. Only a comparatively few people knew Miss Martin during life, but almost from the instant of her death she forced herself upon the notice of the world by a torrent of benefactions covering the entire globe, and attained the status of a canonised saint, in very nearly record-breaking time.

Was hers a career that could influence the world and its thought and conduct? If a Gallup poll had been taken during her life to decide the question, the answer would have been “No”! But that this life should send its message throughout the whole world, and that this little girl should have instructed the proud and the learned; even that she should have become famed merely through the revelation of her experience of the inner life-all this is incredible, unless one has Faith. It is a proof of the Truth of the Catholic Faith, which was the scaffolding upon which she climbed to Heaven, and of the existence of God. God was her theme, and her message has vibrated through the world.

One cannot make a pilgrimage to the town which a saint has made famous, without receiving intimations, as it were, of the saint, in the surrounding country. One approaches Lourdes, for instance, through country which awakens solemn and deep thoughts. Do you think that God had His reasons for placing the scenes of the apparition of His Blessed Mother amid the moving and sad beauty of the Pyrenees?

It is somewhat so with Lisieux. Rouen is the natural gateway to it. Now, I think that God sends His pilgrims to Lisieux by way of Rouen, to enliven their Faith, in preparation for the revelation of cloistered sanctity. Remember that Marie Therese built her sanctity upon the edifice of fidelity to the Catholic Faith, and that she lived eight years in a convent. Rouen is a reminder of the immemorial truth and beauty of the Faith; of its capacity to inspire the human mind and sanctify souls.

JOURNEY TO ROUEN

Come without guide books to Rouen, and let us see what kind of a city it is. Let us make a beginning with Dieppe, the port of my arrival in France. I am going, remember, desiring confidence, to Lisieux. At Dieppe, I write down in my diary: “Dieppe is dingy and dreary. Its streets are narrow and t‘he cobble-stone paving of the road seems unusually bad. The railway station stands at one end of a long street which pursues an undistinguished career into the town. The buildings are of two storeys, very drab. Every second shop is an “alimentation,” filled with sweets and shortbread dainties. Who eats all these things? Some giant must live here. His loaves lean against the wall in a baker’s shop, half the thickness of a man’s body, and exactly its length, slashed so that they represent a tiger’s skin. Purple and silver- coated sweets sit in lonely fashion on little glass slabs, snubbing their noses against the glass panes. Housewives delve among the browned biscuit dainties, carrying on, during the process of search, animated gossip with the proprietress. There is no life at the quay-side. Is it a half-holiday? Even the Chamber of Commerce is shut. But the idea of a halfholiday in an industrious French city is slightly laughable. So I am forced to reflect that I must be libelling the inhabitants, and that this must” be the hour of siesta. The Church of St. Jacques, with its square tower, and projecting gargoyles, is badly in need of repair.”

Preliminary to its departure from Dieppe, the train played its usual tricks. To begin with, it rolled out of the station eight minutes too early. I trundled across the square “heying” to it. Poor thing, it was too slow to elude me. The amiable porter who clambered through my compartment assured me that the schedule was correct. I knew better. I had travelled on the line before. The train very soon gave several jolts, but we were not really under way. She backed and puffed and clanked into a sister station where papas, mamas and basket-laden children watched her antics with unconcern. Back again she came. A railway official mounted one of the driving wheels, near my carriage window, watched for a grand moment, and then blew a bugle and waved vigorously. After a few more jolts, and a shudder, followed by an appalling quietude, the little train nerved herself for the effort to Rouen. We came, after a journey in rain, through sodden fields, to Rouen, at six in the evening, and jostled with a great crowd out of the garish, great station, which at the moment was disorderly with much reconstruction.

“Did I want a room?” Madame of the Hotel de Dieppe enquired.

“Yes.”

“At vingt cinq francs?”

“No”!

“One then a storey higher, at quinze francs?”

“Perhaps!” The maid, whom I recollected from my visit six months before, showed me the room. Upon debate, though it was otherwise suitable, I fled the Dieppe, considering vingt francs per meal too high a sum for my pilgrim’s purse. “Americain,” whispered Madame to her maid in answer to an inquisitive inquiry. “Americain” strode down the cobbled Rue de Jeanne D”Arc, to a turning which led to the quay. Here, the Hotel d”Angleterre receives me, does its best” for me, a la carte, and with a warm small room, I am content. Rouen is spread outside this cold night, but, I repeat. I am content within doors.

I awoke, after what seemed a century, to find the town astir with early travellers. Rouen’s face is washed. It is not so cold, I find. There are picturesque hills in the distance. The sun is shining on the garish station. My room costs 12 francs. A sheer gain. comparing it with the Hotel de Dieppe. Besides, I like this place much better. Framed in my open casement is a square of sky displaying Paradisal colours. All schools of art with all their theories, yield their contribution at this moment to my luxury. The colours change as the clouds evolve. Pleasant thought . . . the entertainment tax does not apply! My first journey is towards the Cathedral, half a mile away. I gasp when I see a wonderful door with its archway; the lop-sided carved figures which, as though borne in a wave, climb over the arch and meet at its apex. (This reminds me of the Votive Kirche in Vienna.)

“Madame!” I apply in my halting French, to a lady in the square who bears a market basket. “Est ccci le Dom?” I strive to lessen her wonderment by another try. “Le Cathedral?”

“Non, m‘sieu”,” she replies, with expressive kindness. “Par la le Cathedral.” Over the tops of the huddled shops shows a spire, spiritual, delicate as a rock crystal, seemingly made of wood, encrusted with ornamental devices, a knob at the top, racing upward.

“Tournez premier a gauche,” I am directed by a gentleman. Through a narrow street, I face this building. Between two of its aspiring towers a pigeon launches. All about, beauty wavers. The Cathedral is an embrace. The Almighty is enfolded within the cincture of that enduring prayer. At its foot a pretty, vivid life dashes on. Brightly-coloured cafes receive the shoppers, young girls trip off to business, cabs trundle over the cobbles, bare-headed housewives push hand-carts home with freights of cauliflowers. The church I had mistaken for the Cathedral was that of Saint Maclou. I enter the Cathedral and assist at Mass. I hear the hour sounding solemnly from the Cathedral tower. A deacon in surplice sings a Benediction hymn. The women, with sweet, sad voices, take it up. After the Mass the worshippers are soon dispersed. The perspective of the Cathedral, looking down the aisle, might be likened to the long, long, thoughts of youth.

Rouen is a city of memories. It has rich associations for Catholics. The Maid of Orleans died here. OfRouen’s industry the guide-book mentions hardware and soft-goods, leather, chemicals, metallurgy, dyes. But if you wish to learn about its industry for yourself and to understand a great deal of its history, all you have to do is to gaze upon the Seine. A great picture is spread out before you. The Seine, with its broad expanse and many bridges, is a noble stream. Its commercial importance is increasing every day. It bears upon its muddy waters, mighty freights of export and import wealth. See this trafficstreaming proudly by, at an hour when the City’s multitudinous noises are being stilled. What strange craft! Motor-tugs with bows leaping from the water. Slow, heavily-laden barges, coloured vividly, their decks almost flush with the wavelets: a barge with a cargo of granite paving destined for Paris streets, straining upon the tow-rope.

The solid quay sides are chafed by the high shoulders of tramp ships of French registry. Factories and cranes line the river. An enormous, suspension foot-way bridge, an engineering freak, rears its feathery proportions into the sky. It serves as a system for conveying a ferry by means of a cable across the stream at this point. The wind plays strange pranks with this bridge. High up there, you can feel it playing rock-a-bye. You climb a series of steel ladders enclosed in the pylon. Having climbed a hundred feet or so, you are assailed by a horrible feeling. Looking down between your legs, you perceive you may fall through a variety of open spaces, for the whole thing is no more than a network. It is a piece of Meccano fashioned for the entertainment of adults. No one but a madman would cross. Yet, obviously some do, for a lady sits in a box at the foot of a tower, with a roll of tickets for sale.

THE GOOD-NATURED SACRISTAN

“M”sieur desire un tour?” The old man with the demoniacal red in his robe addressed me thus, and tapped with his staff upon the Cathedral floor. I judged him to be an official of the nature of verger. The time was half an hour after noon. I did not wish to be interrupted just then. I shook my head in answer to his inquiry, and stayed to marvel at the architecture of the nave. But when departing he had swung the wicket gate behind him, I repented and recalled him. I asked him to come and show me the mysteries behind the great altar. A couple, young American lovers, and I, were his audience thus late in the morning. He told us a great deal, and pocketed his fee with a gracious smile which revealed a not-too-disfiguring loss of front teeth. You could count the hairs in his beard. He wore court shoes with red pom-poms. His staff was the cousin to a halberd, and he looked as if he had stepped straight out of the frame of a Franz Hals portrait. His suit was black and slashed, and his manner, at once confidential and affable, had an intermixture of the grand. He came back to us to explain the miracles of the stained glass. The secret, now, he explained, was “inconnu.” Notice the vividness of the colour! Thirteenth century! In one window was the temptation of Joseph by Potiphar’s wife; in another the story of the Good Samaritan. He pointed to the word “Australia” inscribed upon a Potiphar’s wife; in another the story of the Good Samaritan. He pointed to the word “Australia” inscribed upon a 1918 war. He recalled Australia’s part in the conflict. He drew attention to the Cardinals” hats suspended from the roof. “You “ave,” he said, “in Sydnee, in the Cathedral of-”

“St. Mary’s,” I suggested.

“Yes,” he went on, thankful for the help, “the “at the Cardinal Moran. It is “suspendu” from the roof.” We gazed down the aisle. lts blackness was intense. ““Perspectif admirable,” said the old man, giving utterance to my thought. “Alors,” he remarked, when I was about to depart, his bright eyes beaming with fun. “Bon retour to Sydnee.” “Melbourne,” I said, quite unnecessarily. “Ah, Melbourne,” he rejoined. “You “ave the Maoris there. No? The aboriginals then! With the lips broad and the nose flattened.” He flattened his own nose and pursed his lips and laughed with great joy. I was sorry to part from this prince of vergers.

STREET SCENES IN ROUEN

After a morning spent in the Cathedral, one becomes weary of its grandeur, and of the past.

Let us turn our steps to the streets, with their frivolities, and revive our interest in living humanity. What a business one sees in the shops! The swing doors of one big store are never still. Chattering women pass through. The street reechoes to the note of the tramconductor’s horn, the torturing squeak of the approaching motor-car. An imposing array of dainties is borne upon glass trays inthe confiseries. These are “patisserie.” Cunning little cakes filled with jelly and cream, browned biscuits; cakes upon which one pours cream from a silver jug; chocolate cakes. Watch them vanishing! A lady comes in from her shopping expedition, and saunters by the counter, halting before a tray of delicacies, with a silver fork impaling a macaroon. This she consumes, seated at a tall, marble-topped table, musing upon the passing crowd. All these cakes will be gone by tomorrow. They will be replaced by reinforcements moved forward by the stout, flour-flaked baker who, with hands akimbo, has suddenly invaded, the chocolate den. An immense fellow, gazing over the heads of the ladies nibbling afternoon cake, he resembles a Triton among minnows. He sums up the stock. “Pouf”! It will not suffice. He knows everything about baking cakes. He dominates the shop. The history of cakes is written all over his face. One expects to see the tartlets and napoleons rising up on end to curtsey to him. In the alley by the side of the shop, his two smug-faced apprentices, clad in white, their four-cornered hats stuck on at a jaunty angle, take a breath of the street. They seem, like youngsters all over the world, to be very little anxious to return to their labours, and proud to display their uniforms. Will a “reform” ever arise, for the prohibition of tarts? If it should, I can imagine the baker defending the practice of his art in some such aphorism as “No tarts, no temptations. No temptations, no virtue.” What a world !

Inside the Cathedral at six o’clock in the evening, all is black, save the surplice of the priest, who, from the high, carved pulpit, recites the Stations. The altar and the roof are concealed by the darkness. The great archway of the nave reveals the insignificance of the worshippers. Benediction follows. Is it seven so soon ? Now, the Rue Jeanne d’Arc is alive with coloured signs. Here and there, an old lamp in a darkened side street winks knowingly like some Micawber who possesses an interesting and not disreputable past.

Rouen had shut up shop on Saturday afternoon when I left by train. My last look took in the busy Seine; the thronged quay basin with its fleet; the lively cafes; the stout stone bridges; the mediaeval houses. I passed the church of Saint Ouen and caught a glimpse in a street gap, of the church of St. Maclou, a marvel hemmed in with oldest houses. Framed in the window of my compartment, I saw the Cathedral dominating the town, its oldest, spireless tower frowning in lonely grandeur, sharing the horizon with the other two churches. Lovely Rouen.

TO LISIEUX

The way to Lisieux is tedious. The train is slow. It rocks more villainously, for no reason that I could tell, than any train I have ever travelled in. We pass, some miles from Rouen, a broad river, flanked by a long. high mountain range, with a village near. Here, an alluvial flat has been swamped. The afternoon draws on. The country becomes quite flat, little cultivated, and by degrees, not cultivated at all. It is thickety country, uneven. We seem to be darting in and out of burrows. Woods flash by. Early Spring blossom shows here and there in the young trees by the line. Soon the country becomes all undulations. Secretiveness is its character. Bernay is a village clinging to the banks of a canal. Lisieux is heralded by long lines of single-storeyed factories, every division of which blazes with fierce light. The industry ? My companions tell me it is “vetements” (clothing). From the train windows one saw foundries also.

“Lisieux.” The sign is repeated half a dozen times upon the station platform. Many travellers alight here. It is a big, broad station, the only one in the world from which I have been allowed to walk away unchallenged. There is a running to and fro in the station yard. I step into a cab which is one of an array of carriages and motors surpassing that which I had encountered at Lourdes. A feeling of expectancy comes over me as we go off down a badly-lighted street. It is half past five o‘clock. The footpaths are unconscionably muddy. Let me say that Lisieux is a bundled-together place. Here, in the centre of the town, the miller’s flour bags are falling almost into the accountant’s desk. There, a bright shop is filled with the objects of devotion, including portraits of Marie Therese. The image of the Saint smiles at me through the dusk. We pass a busy cross-road and find ourselves in a street with unpicturesque shops. It is a lopsided street which descends. Upon a height to our right, by our passage-way, is the heavy church of St. Jacques, with a great archway. This is the end of my journey, so I enter. It is intensely cold inside; also dark. Marie Therese, in marble likeness, is here, holding her shower of roses, beside a humble altar which shields the Blessed Sacrament. I make my prayer here. With thankfulness, I make it again at my bedside at the hotel. I am happy. Poor little mortal, I pray to the smiling Saint, this recently-honoured dignitary of Heaven, for all I want and for my friend. It thunders outside, but a feeling of protection comes upon me.

SCENES IN LISIEUX

A young woman flew like a little black raven into the estaminet of the hotel, half an hour before the dejeuner next day. A strange time to take coffee, I thought. She wore a travelling costume. She glanced around with the brightest of black eyes. She leftpretty quickly, but at the door she stopped. “Say, you don’t speak English, do you?” she said.

“Yes,” I replied.

“Oh, what a relief. That’s just fine. Say, is this the only place they have to eat? I”m just famished. I want some place else to eat. I don’t care what it is, so long’s it’s not here. Ugh, what a place!” (The estaminet is just what it looks like; an uncomfortable place to gulp down coffee.) “Say, where do you do? Oh, in there! Well I guess I”11 just go in.” The little woman went towards the dining-room door. I informed her that it was twenty minutes to dejeuner.

Madame of the establishment and mademoiselle of the estaminet appeared and confirmed this information. I acted as the interpreter. “Cc n‘est pret,” remarked Madame. The strange lady did not enter the diningroom. “I”d just like breakfast,” she said. “A nice little bit of ham. They’ve got good ham here, haven’t they? Well, I want it fried, but it must be well fried, and eggs and coffee and rolls. That’s quite a tall order, I suppose,” she laughed, “hut my train goes at 1.50, and I”ve just got to get to Paris.” Madame told the lady she could have the breakfast a la carte and anything else she desired.

“Oh, that’ll be stacks,” said the visitor. Then (turning to me), “What a frightful place! Do they understand anything here? Fancy you living here. Are you English? Australian ! Oh, say! You are a long way from home. But whatever made you come to this place to live?”

I did not wish to appear a fool in the eyes of my little American acquaintance, so I told her truthfully I had come upon a visit.

“Oh, well,” she said, “ifs a very interesting place and all that. But to live here. . . .”

Lisieux has a population of 15,000. It is busy, industrious, flourishing. Marvel of marvels, it has more work than souls to do it. One sees such notices in the windows of factories, as ““Workmen Wanted,” “An Apprentice Required.” The town is old. It is well-preserved. It was a fairsized town when it’s lord, William the Conqueror, seized the throne of England. The heavy buttresses, and galleon-like bulging of the upper storeys of the houses, give the key to the construction of the most ancient buildings in the historic towns of England. The very same man who built a house in the Rue aux Fevres in Lisieux might havebuilt that grocer’s shop now before the eyes of my imagination, whose ceiling beams are as thick as a man’s body.

The town guidehook says with rightful pride: “Lisieux offers to those who are enamoured of the past”, a spectacle unique in France, of innumerable wooden houses, a marvellous openair museum.” Truly the museum survives. These wooden monuments amaze me. This feeling gives way to one of slight repugnance. In narrow streets outrageous gargoyles look down from their posts at the cornices of upstairs rooms, poke out their tongues, leer, and seek to subdue the stranger with their grotesque and impudent fun. It is easy to see what kind of cronies were those house builders of the twelfth, thirteenth and fifteenth centuries. Their jests were crude. The workmanship is rough. Bur what a sense of the grotesque they had ! They did not scruple to immortalize the homely humour of their town, the follies and frivolities of Jean and Jacques What’s-His-Name. They understood decorative art, but they imported the spirit of the tavern into it. They made fun of Hell. They pilloried the demons. In this town of Lisieux it looks as though the village pot-boys had won a building competition and had been set to work. Some of their jests are obvious, poorly conceived, brutally frank. They are about eating and drinking. The conversation of these gargoyles is upon merely mundane topics. They hold their sides and burst with laughter.

A WAYSIDE SHRINE

The thought struck me this morning to go away from Lisieux into the open country. So, after lunch, I walk down from the higher places of the town, to the Place Thiers, in front of the Cathedral. Things are quiet this afternoon. A shop with a faded front competes for foreign custom on the outskirts of the Place, with its pertsign, “Au Robinson.” In any of the cafes hereabout, I can drink, if I like, 5 o‘clock The. I do not like. I took some “the” the other day at the hotel, and can recommend it as an insipid luxury, well suited to the purpose of Lenten penance.

The Cathedral of Lisieux is in the Place Thiers; that is to say, on one side of it. It is dreaming. This can plainly he seen.

It is noble, unchanged, unchangeable, while the shops and buildings in the square live a fitful, hum-drum life. It has no adornment. Its external architectural feature is the use made of the geometrical square. This tones down everything, including the beautiful Roman arch over the main doorway. Even the gargoyles, the grinning dogs through whose extended gullets the rain-water is guided off the roofs of the other church buildings, are here wanting. The Cathedral, sad to say, seems a little out of place. That is because the shopping centre around is commonplace.

Crossing a canal, we go out of the town by the Chemin d”Assement. The ascent is continual, between hedges upon a bank, and pollarded trees. The countryside is green; the herbage lush; the trees shivering in winter nudity. Heavy, well-fed cattle graze contentedly by the farmhouses. This is like, yet in an indefinable way, unlike, an Australian scene. The landscape is like. but the farming quite unlike. The country is broken; the trees are strange, the farm-houses scattered but solidly built, of brick. This might he the country we have seen about Doncaster. The holdings are no larger; the farm-houses similar. Moss of a most delicate form, clothes the bank, and here grows a kind of capeweed and another flower belonging to the age of innocence-the buttercup. This grows in clusters, in clumps. Its counterpart and rival is a white bloom, without scent. A cousin is of light-blue. The three, like girl chums, adorn the bank in pretty confusion. The blue smiles as does the Little Flower. Perhaps it was after this bloom that the Little Flower received her nickname. I come, in this country path, upon something which makes the countryside very different from that in Australia . . . a shrine above the bank. In the rude shelter of a little box raised upon a post, stands the Virgin and Child. Here, the only place in miles, the bank displays a tribute of violets.

Lisieux was gathering for the firesides when I returned through many miles of road, into the busy town. Children were playing upon the cobbles, carts and motor-cars contested discordantly for the echoes of the streets. Before the pastrycooks” shop stood a white-jacketed apprentice boy, in sabots, studying the possibilities of the window and counting out the answer in sous.

THE TOMB OF THE SAINT

The spirit of Lisieux can be studied best in those whom it attracts. Who can go away empty spiritually ? Not the happy priest from Buenos Aires who stands upon the steps of the Memorial Chapel in the Rue Livarot, recounting, with eyes uplifted in devout expression, his various pilgrimages-Rome during the canonization ceremonies of the Saint, Lourdes, Paray-le-Monial.

“Extraordinaire-terrifi” . . . he ejaculates, indicating the intensity of the devotion to the Saint in his own country. He can scarcely tear himself away. Paray-leMonial is his next objective. He is going this afternoon at 1 o‘clock. It is now half-past eleven. He has been praying in the chapel at all hours. He raises his hands in his expressive Latin way. “Lisieux is a little Heaven,” he says. Not any more likely to go away empty-handed is the silent woman with the refined face, and her poor epileptic sister, who pray, rapt, before the altar, long after the end of Mass; not the tiredlooking man, nor the women in black habits whose gaze, directed towards the tabernacle, is undisturbed by the currents of people who pass by them . . . not the young girls whose sympathetic faces are directed towards the Saint’s tomb, nor the fathers of families who stand there, holding their little boys by the hand. None of these, assuredly. can go away unsatisfied. I have a vivid recollection of a man with spiritual gaze of middle-age, with an incisive manner. who sat near me in the hotel dining-room. A land-owner with a charitable way of life, he had bought a home in Lisieux, and was waiting till circumstances freed him to come to the town with his family to live. His mother was an invalid. For the present, the north of France was his home. He comes to Lisieux several times a year. I felt lonely when he was not there. He said goodbye to me very simply, in what 1 hope was a spirit of prophecy-”We shall meet again,” he said, “if not here, in Heaven.”

For the pilgrims, the end of the pilgrimage is to kneel in silent worship before the tomb of the Saint. The effigy of the Saint is directed towards them. The hands clasp the crucifix and are bathed in rose petals. A shower of rose petals bestrews the ground. The fragrance of rose petals and lilies is wafted through an opening of the glass, which, behind magnificent gold-decorated iron gates, walls the tomb.

A devout congregation attends Mass in the Memorial Chapel, and even in this less busy season, the church is filled. All streets pour their stream of worshippers into the rue Livarot. At eight o‘clock, the pilgrims are returning to their hotels. There is another Mass between eight and halfpast eight o‘clock. Benediction is celebrated at five o‘clock in the afternoon. We who come in from the world, take assurance, for from behind the grills to the right hand side of the altar, come the responses to the Litany, sweet and plaintive, given by many voices.

THE SAINT AND HER CLIENTS

Since the Saint died, devotion to her has spread over the world. In the Memorial chapel are tablets recording the thanks of people in every part of the globe, of the humblest, and the most exalted, rank, lay-people and religious, civilians, and also soldiers, some of whom, we may guess, directed the military destinies of France in critical hours. These testimonies are remarkable not only for their number, for they cover the walls of the chapel, but also for their fervour.

A grateful client has written: “To Therese, beautiful rose of Carmel, who established and blessed my hearth.” What will be said of the Saint in the years to come? We may give the answer, by examining the inscriptions already in her memorial chapel. Some of those who owe her great gratitude are persons who have been frightened in the face of impending calamity. This calamity the Saint has averted. She has secured death-bed conversions. Soldiers have been saved in battle; or have been cured of terrible wounds. The nature of the favours received by many is not revealed, but the heartfelt expressions of thanks are eloquent. As the instrument of grace for souls long lost to God, the Saint seems to possess extraordinary power. One grateful client records that her own brother “died like a Saint, after 15 years of forgetfulness of God.” A soldier says, “Thanks to the Blessed Therese of the Infant Jesus who saved me on two occasions.” A Queen expresses her gratitude thus, “To the Blessed Therese, all my thanks for a cure obtained through her intercession.” A captain of Zouaves writes: “Severely wounded in the war, I was dying. The Blessed Therese had pity on me and gratified me with one of her roses of cure.” One inscription reads: “In acknowledgement of a very great protection to the armies, X, 1920.” Another inscription states: “Sister Therese has saved my soul and my honour.” “A poor sinner’s acknowledgement.” A little Spanish girl writes: “Thanks to the dear Saint, protectress of my family.” Another: “That the Lord may exalt the beauty and the attractions of this celestial star, to whom I owe so much light.”

THE LESSON OF LISIEUX

The favours received through the Saint’s intercession are varied. It would appear that she is indeed “The redoubtable champion of desperate causes.”

What was the Little Flower like in life? Here is the description given me by a relative of the Saint. “She was an extraordinary child, full of piety from a very early age; sweet and kind. Simplicity was the keynote of her character. She loved her family very much. The Saint looked very much like her portraits.” (All who knew her seem to agree upon this last-mentioned point). One lady remembered Therese as a happy little girl with beautiful hair reaching to below her knees, romping in the street on her way to school. “She was very fond of animals. She was loved by the townsfolk. She was simple, direct, trusting with a great confidence in the goodness of God.” Old grannies love to revive memories of her. “A child so high,” one will say, placing her hand at the level of the knee.

The cabinet of relics at the Memorial Chapel testifies to the personal appearance of the Saint. She had a wealth of lustrous brown locks. It is a touching display. A baptismal dress; the first Communion veil and dress; the little veil and the great veil, worn on the occasion of her religious profession; the habit which she wore, her rough wooden sandals, a discipline.

The toys of the Saint as a little girl are preserved in her father’s house. Here is her bed, and the little childish trifles such as a girl of the middle class possesses, a doll (a most unintelligentlooking doll!), a very unreal doll’s bed, and the most impossible of perambulators. In addition, all kinds of toys scarcely touched, one would judge, or touched by the gentlest hands; a skipping rope. The room where Therese played and slept looks out on a lawn rising by a gravel path. Let into the side of a shed near the high brick wall enclosing the garden is a little model of Bethlehem manger, of a type which she must often have constructed. The Blessed Virgin and Saint Joseph are here, protected in the Grotto by a roof of rushes. The patient animals breathe on the Divine Child. His bed is of delicately-shaped grass shoots.

What has been the result of the pilgrimage? I asked myself this question upon leaving the town. I thought I ought to try to he a little more humble and that all the while, so long as I persisted in this course, I would be able to repose great confidence in the good God and His condescension toward very little souls. Confidence, confidence, confidence. These words were drumming in my ears, as the wheels of the engine rolled me back toward Rouen. Confidence! That was the keynote. Yes, just to try and to keep on trying hopefully in the spiritual, as well as the professional, sphere. Arguing the matter out, one supposes that there must be a sacrifice of one’s will in attaining the desired result”. What is this sacrifice? It may be likened to a sight in Nature. Who. in travelling upon the ocean has not seen the little wavelet thrown for a moment in the wake? Its crest forms, foams, breaks, and in an instant, is dispersed in the mighty current. Such a mighty current is God’s will. We, poor souls, are like the sea foam. borne by that current, destined to come at length to rest upon the shores of God’s eternity. And the method of our progress, which consists in a complete abandonment to that will, Therese shows us.

Nihil Obstat

W. M. COLLINS, Censor Diocesan

Imprimatur

@ D. MANNIX

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis

4th November, 1957

********

Politeness In The Pews

BY DANIEL A. LORD, S.J

INDEX

Whenever a “Short Subject” by Pete Smith flashes on the screen, I sit back and prepare to chuckle.

(One hesitates to praise unrestrictedly anything that comes from Hollywood. Hollywood has a way of making you regretfully revoke your praise. But that is not the point at issue here.)

Pete Smith has remained thus far one my favourites. And nothing else that he has yet produced tickled me more than the film titled-as far as I can recall”Manners at the Movies.” In the Hollywoodland inclusiveness of the word, it was TERRIFIC. He managed to photograph all the movie pests who make attendance at the motion pictures a hazard and a nuisance. There were the couple who go up and down the aisles, now and then standing still and blocking off the picture from the view of those who are seated, while they loudly discuss the pros and cons of seats. He enters a row, and she is not satisfied; so he comes out again. She spots a place, climbs over half a dozen people to get to it, sits down, decides that she doesn’t like it, and climbs out again. And on and on ad infinitum.

In that film there was the young man who rams his knees into the back of your seat: how does it happen that you and I are always the ones who sit right in front of him?) and then pushes with all his young strength as he sinks further and further into his seat-and your back. There was the popcorn eater, who sounds like a rock crusher . . . and the girl who all through the quiet scenes loudly removes cellophane wrappings from individual caramels . . and the woman who hums along with the leading lady’s rendering of some beautiful classic . . . and the girl who removes her enormous hat-under protest-only to be revealed to have a head of hair that spreads like a box hedge, thick, impenetrable, and completely concealing the picture from your view . . . and the man with the trained-seal cough . . . and the child who at short intervals crawls over the people in the row to get out for a drink, for gum, to see a friend, to-oh, to do anything that interrupts the progress of the film.

PESTS

And there is the man who is seeing the film for at least the second time and tells his companion what is coming next. After all, the girl with him is probably a moron . . . or blind . . . or deaf to all but his loud whispers. . . .

And there is the shifter who moves his head back and forth, always blocking your view, no matter how you sit or shift your position . . and the two who put their heads together in sentimental intimacy, cutting off the screen completely from your view . . and the critic who enthusiastically likes or loudly dislikes the picture at the top of his whisper.

Maybe Pete Smith’s film didn’t characterize all these pests; maybe he included some others that I have here omitted. I do know, however, that as I watched the film I wanted to burst into loud and prolonged applause. In fact, I hoped that all the theatre owners throughout the country would for years and years and years to come show that film every afternoon and evening as a prelude to the main features, until such time as manners came back to the movies . . . and with them a little peace for the polite members of the audience who suffer from boors, bores, and ignoramuses.

As you can see, I think and feel warmly on the subject.

PESTS IN CHURCH

It is unlikely that Pete Smith will ever do a shortsubject film called “Politeness in the Pews.” Probably he wouldn’t dare. But should he be considering it, I herewith offer him material for his scenario. For that matter the material is not mine alone. As a priest I mount the pulpit; I do not enter the pews. I use the sanctuary, not the nave. I am a denizen of the sacristy, not of the transepts. But well do I remember the days when I sat in the pews. As a priest I have watched those who sit in the pews.

When I happened to mention to some friends that I thought a discussion of politeness in the pews might be in place, their enthusiastic suggestions sent my pencil racing over my note pad until I had filled pages with protests and recommendations that they transmitted to me.

Maybe after you’ve read this, you’ll insist on my immediately doing a complete revision in order to embody your experiences. Maybe (because you are of course the soul of courtesy in church and the model of manners at Mass) you will send copies of this little discussion (in plain envelopes that will of course give no indication of the identity of the sender) to some people who have long made it unnecessary for You to wear a hair shirt. Going to church could be a pleasant duty. There are those of your acquaintance who cut, that pleasure, imperil the peace, and dim the joy.

SET FOR GOOD MANNERS

The Catholic should be all set for good manners when he walks into his church.

The churches are in the main beautiful, or they are aspiring to be beautiful.

The atmosphere is reverent and hushed; God’s house is filled with God’s presence, alive with the unheard rustling of angels’ wings.

The priest who comes out to say Mass has had long training in correct conduct, manners that have developed through centuries of experience, conduct designed to indicate by every word and movement the solemnity of what the priest does.

The spirit of the churches is restful. Even the light that comes through the windows strokes the soul gently and soothingly.

Only the triumph of original sin makes possible bad manners in a Catholic church. But original sin is there, and for that a sad heigh-ho! and alas!

COURTESY OF SILENCE

When a Catholic enters his church, he knows that the Saviour of the world is present in the tabernacle. He knows that the great God of heaven and earth, who chose the temple of Jerusalem to fill it with His bright, shining presence, is in this church. So an intelligent Catholic talks to God, to the Eucharistic Christ, and to the saints and angels, who are the court attendants in this scene of divine royalty-and talks to no one else.

Fortunately and happily there is little need for more than the indication of this happy fact: Catholics do not come to church in order to catch up on the village gossip. They do not meet in the back pews to exchange the news. They do not signal friends (much less call to them) across the sweep of the transepts. They do not foregather in the shadow of Saint Anthony’s altar-shrine to pass along the latest news about births, deaths, scandals, and successes.

The great courtesy of silence in the presence of God-or at least a physical attention to His silent voice, which fills the church-is the custom and rule among us.

ENTRANCE

A Catholic entering a church instinctively looks around for the holy-water font. He dips his fingers into the water gently; he does not dive into it. There is something a little queer about the person who plunges his fingers deeply into the water and then with a large gesture scatters on the floor the surplus water (a little like a shaggy dog emerging from a pool).

The Catholic then makes a sign of the cross that can set a sort of pattern for all signs of the cross.

I pause on the sign of the cross.

Here is our royal salute. Here is our gesture of faith; hope, and love. Here is the mighty sign that terrifies the devils and delights theangels. A sign of the cross is a poetical wedding of gesture and words. The lips say, “In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.” The hand completes the illustrative act. It is beautiful to see the sign of the cross made well! the left hand resting lightly on the breast; the right hand touching the forehead, the breast below the left hand, the left shoulder, the right shoulder. It is something to make one wince when the sign of the cross turns .out to be a little circle spun by a rapid hand someplace between the chin and the top button on the waistcoat . . or when it is the swift spinning of the hand in a sort of repeating pin wheel . . or when the holy water fails to touch the forehead and is tossed into the air.

The salute we give to God is not the complete proof of our Catholicity; it may be however a gracious sign of the faith and reverence to bear toward God.

PEWS FRONT AND BACK

Inside the church the vast expanse of the pews stretches before us. As in Mil ton’s description of Adam and Eve leaving Paradise, the world is all before us there to choose.

Certainly the dear Lord was not thinking of His future churches when He talked of the guests who brashly rush up to the front seats. Not in any church that I’ve ever attended have I seen such brashness. What that dread of front pews is, I leave to the research of psychologists; thus far they have not classified it along with fear of heights, of enclosed places, of wide spaces, of crowds, or of dark rooms. But it’s a fear. A priest mounts the pulpit and sees a vast moat of emptiness stretching between him and the congregation. Like the straggling hairs on the head of a very bald man his parishioners form a fringe around the emptiness and vacuity.

Oh for a few more people brave enough to venture the apparently perilous pew way up front.

As it is, the pews that are filled first are always the back ones . . . with the result that the latecomers cluster in frightened fashion about the holy-water fonts in the very rear, or wander up the aisle in search for a seat-to the distraction of those already seated.

IF YOU ARE RUSHED . . .

As a matter of reassurance to those worshippers who have to leave early in order to put out a fire, or who must rush home to a constantly imperilled baby, or who have slipped away from cruel mistresses who beat their help if breakfast is late, I can guarantee that it is as easy to get out of church rapidly from the front pews as it is from the back. Most churches today are arranged with side exits that are usually little congested. The main doors at the rear are often a milling interchange between those who are leaving and those who are coming in. The side doors are easy avenues of egress. You can put out the fire, save the baby, and get the breakfast just as quickly if you have occupied the pew third from the front as you would if you occupied the pew third from the back.

I can assure you too that if you are seated in the front the altar is much closer, the words of the priest are much clearer, and your sense of nearness to God is much more vivid.

ON BENDED KNEE

It may well be that sometime in the remote future a diocesan official will be designated to be Director of Graceful

Genuflection.

He will have quite a job.

I doubt that he will ever prevail, with the old gentleman who does the “rheumatic bob.” Of course he is not really rheumatic. Indeed he claims to be very spry. But he is a bobber, no mistake; and he has been a bobber since his youth. God sees everything in the twinkling of an eye, so God knows that the bobber genuflected; but to the human eye it looks like slight twitch of the right knee, a twitch accomplished with a speed that would defy capture on an action camera.

At the opposite genuflection pole is the “deep dipper.” She goes way, way down a nd stays there, until you wonder if perhaps you ought to put your gentle hand under her arm and raise her to vertical position. Usually she has put her left foot far forward and has dropped her right knee to the floor of the church a foot or a yard behind that left knee. The result is a bent back all ready to accept its burden.

A genuflection, a bending of the knee (as the Latin word puts it), is really a very graceful step in the liturgical dance. The left foot rests firmly on the floor. The right knee is bent until it almost touches the heel of the left foot. The body is upright. The eyes are fixed on the tabernacle. One hand may rest lightly on the pew that one intends to enter. But the movement is swift and uninterrupted. The right knee is bent, touches the ground lightly (and with no thumping peril to the new mosaic floor, of which the pastor is justly proud), and at once is returned to normal position. The whole procedure is a flowing movement that is beautiful to behold.

Indeed it might be profitable some evening to teach the children of the family how to genuflect. They might as well learn early to do well something that they will do often in their lives.

EXEUNT USHERS, NOT SMILING Very few churches today use ushers.

Probably the ushers found their work too, too lonesome. They are disappearing from most motion-pictures houses, too.

One of the things that have always caused me amusement is the sight of an ambitious young movie usher trustfully attempting to lead a groupup the dark aisle of a movie theatre. You hear him whisper, “How far up, please?” To which the leader replies, in a much more sibilant whisper, “Just about centre, please.”

The novice usher, flashlight in hand, moves forward, followed, he fondly flatters himself, by the group. But when he turns at the seats that he has found for them, he realizes that somewhere along the aisle he has lost the patrons. They thought they spotted a row they liked-only to find it filled. They paused to speculate whether that dark blob yonder is seats or two midgets crouched in mid-row. Whatever the explanation, they are on their own. So the usher disconsolately snaps off his flashlight and yields his position to the deep human urge for self-exploration.

Ushers in churches (except at fashionable weddings where they are severe drill sergeants) have with the years grown as discouraged as have those in movie theatres.

So now it is pretty much up to the individual to locate himself in the movie theatre or in the parish church.

At the risk of repetition but in the voice of a preacher who has so often felt dreadfully isolated in the pulpit, surrounded by empty pews, may I suggest the good manners of finding a seat well up front in church?

AN ANIMAL NOT IN THE ZOO

One would think that by this time the “end-seat hog” would have been laughed and scorned and hooted and hated out of existence. Apparently he or she (the breed is of both sexes) has a hide so thick that the other members of the porcine family are almost tender-skinned by comparison.

Who among you hasn’t suffered from the “end-seat hog”?

He or she sits plank down on the very end seat of the pew. Usually he or she loads his or her lap with an overcoat, an umbrella, a parcel or two, plus several prayer books and rosaries. The”E.S.H.” exercises a kind of squatter sovereignty (a right long gone from American history but still prevalent in our churches) by which he acquires the right of eminent domain over the whole pew. He (we’ll skip the she, though she considerably outnumbers the he) buries his face in a prayerbook, sitting or kneeling with a firm impregnability that seems little short of eternal. “Upon this rock” is his favourite Bible quotation.

The pews fill up. Then a first unfortunate arrival must find a seat in an end-occupied pew. She pauses, timid soul, beside the “E.S.H.” How deep his devotion! How rapt his meditation! He doesn’t see her standing near the pew. He pays no attention to her gentle cough. Finally she touches him delicately on the shoulder, and he arouses himself with a start. Horrible profanation! a rash intruder has pulled him back from his deep communing with his Maker. He regards the annoying interloper with keen distaste and some surprise. Can it be that she wants something from him? He deliberates. Does she actually want to invade his conquered territory? The nerve!

INTRUDER

Further deliberation . . . then . . . there is nothing for it but submission to the aggression of the rude woman. He sighs heavily. He shifts laboriously. One by one he gathers up his hat, his topcoat, his umbrella, three of his four packages (the fourth falls. to the ground, and he does a contortionist’s twist to retrieve it), his rosary, his prayer books. Finally he manages to stand up, back bent in a sort of human leaning tower of Pisa, to allow her to pass.

With the apologies due the suzerain of the realm, the poor woman pushes through the narrow defile between his stomach with its frontal expanse of packages and the back of the preceding pew, squirming to get over the kneeling bench and around the disturbed man, who all this time fixes her with a long stare that nicely blends indignation, patience, resentment, wonder at her temerity, and a disgust with the sheer selfishness of the human blood.

Of course she is going toreceive Holy Communion, and he is not. So at the “domine, non sum dignus” she has to repeat the ordeal of struggling through that human mountain pass . . . and then again when she returns from Holy Communion. After Mass he is saying the “Thirty-Days’ Prayer,” and she cannot leave until she has once more risked his wrath, compressed his stomach, knocked his packages about, and made a fool and a nuisance of herself.

Wonderful animals, the “end-seat hogs.” Nothing will ever dent their hold on their natural habitat, the very end of a pew. They come early. They stay late. They are durable as a ten-ton granite boulder dropped from an overhanging cliff onto a highway. And what is more, they will read this little section in this little booklet, nod assent., and go right on holding their fortresses against the march of progress and the advance of manners.

From “end-seat hogs” and the other strange abnormalities of the human species, O Lord, deliver us.

But will He? Or are they left for us to correct, for us to set examples of what not to do?

WELL IN

On the other hand the well-mannered Catholic enters the pew, moves to the far side, and kneels, sits, stands, prays, meditates happily undisturbed and undisturbing as the Mass proceeds and the worshippers ebb and flow. He has found a harbour, not a bottleneck. He has located an oasis, not the “in” and “out” of a subway entrance. He has a gracious little hermitage, not the toll gate on a superhighway.

CLOTHES

Catholics do not go to church to show off their clothes.

Years and years ago I wrote a little sentence that went something like this: “flowers cannot withhold their blooms as women do their Easter bonnets to display on the exactly right day in exactly the right church.” A gracious lady told me off, politely but with conviction. Spring hats are not nowadays withheld until Easter Sunday, she informed me. And sensible women do not go to church to show off their hats. “Please don’t,” she said, “put yourself in that class of stupid males who think that women use the parish church as a sort of fashion salon.”

I observed the facts for a bit after that and found that she was right.

We can start with the truism that Catholics do not go to church to show off their good clothes. On the other hand, average Catholics are rather careful about what they wear to church. They know that God would prefer to see them there in rags than have them stay at home. If they are bound for the links and dressed for golf, they don’t hesitate on that account to go to Mass first. On their way to work, dressed in work clothes, they stop in at church. That is as it should be.

Right now, with the fashions dipping and rising in extremes, the question of clothes in church is one that touches both men and women. Men as well as women are bound by rules for modesty in dress. Fashions that are not too sound even on the beach certainly are completely unsound in church. Styles that make even the less conservative lift an eyebrow would rightly cause the eyebrow to rise several wrinkles higher if those styles were exhibited at Mass. That is just common sense.

Any young man or woman who goes into church clad in a fashion that is extreme even outside of church is just too thoughtless to be affected by a few printed paragraphs of advice. Use your head and your good taste, my fine young people. Don’t expect us to be able to supply a head or taste to someone who hasn’t either.

HATS

The question of women and hats is eternal. St. Paul certainly started something when he ordered women to wear hats in church out of respect for the angels, who are also present.

Apparently St. Paul’s general direction was an outgrowth of long-expected good manners. Women of dignity and position invariably covered their heads in public. They wore a graceful veil. They wound a fillet in their hair. They piled their hair in orderly fashion and crowned it with flowers or some other kind of headdress. A woman’s beautifully adorned head was a sign of her rank and quality. Slaves and women of low character went with heads uncovered and hair unkempt.

So to St. Paul the respect shown by dignified matrons and maids in social gatherings was the kind of respect they should indicate by their manner of dressing for church. He asked only that women show as much respect for the angels who attended the altar of sacrifice as they did for the good society that was punctilious about the adornment of women’s heads.

The custom has continued-always a sign of Catholic women’s respect for themselves and for their host, Jesus Christ, and the company that attends Him.

So a veil, a hat, or some small covering for the head is a lovely manifestation of tribute to history and to a custom connected with the dignity of women.

LARGE AND FLOPPY

I should mildly suggest however that the hat be not a tremendous thing.

Males of whatever age love large hats. They think their women folk particularly charming (since so particularly feminine) when they wear vast, circular, floppy, rose-adorned, veildraped hats. I suppose it is man’s tribute to the superior skill of woman, who can in a windstorm manage to keep on her head a hat that would rise instantly from a man’s head or carry him along with it into the upper spaces.

Indeed, men like women to wear large hats . . but not when the women are sitting in front of them at the theatre or in church . . . not when these hats rise as impenetrable barriers obstructing the vision . . not when the hats move like screens between the questing eyes and the things that are to be seen.

May I suggest that since hats cannot be removed in church -as surely they should be removed in the theatre- women be nice enough to wear to church hats that will not prove permanent impediments to others’ seeing the altar? A simple request but important.

While we are on the subject of hats, may I as a priest voice a few suggestions about the sort of hat to be worn when one is going to receive Holy Communion.

Make it, please, a hat without a veil that hangs over the lips. If the hat demands a veil, please turn the veil back carefully. Else the poor priest will stand with the Host in his hands and wonder what to do: Ask the woman to lift her veil? Somehow lift the veil with his own totally inexperienced hands?

As one who has frequently officiated at Sodality receptions, I can say that hats are a major problem when a medal attached to a ribbon is to be slipped over the head. One great Archbishop has given the problem up as hopeless. The hats are too large, too wide, to high, too . . . well just too. So he lays the ribbons on the girls’ shoulders and leaves the rest to their ingenuity.

PEWS AGAIN

Let’s go back to those pews now.

I might note in passing that pews are a relatively late invention. The great churches of Europe still do not have pews. The earliest appearance of pews was apparently in Protestant churches where kneeling was reduced to a minimum. Pews were not designed primarily for Catholic devotions. When the person ahead of you is sitting down, it is very difficult for you to kneel without driving your folded hands into the back of his neck. If the person behind you is kneeling, you cannot suddenly sit down without throwing him off his balance and certainly putting him out of a spirit of rapt recollection.

So from the time that the Mass starts and people begin to sit and stand and kneel as a unit, one has to exercise care and courtesy and a degree of polite regard for the person in the pew in front and the one in the pew in back. If one must sit, it is not difficult to move slightly to the side of the person kneeling in back. If one wants to kneel, it is only fair to kneel where one will not breath heavily down the neck of the person who is sitting in the pew ahead.

In most churches the entire congregation does not receive Holy Communion. So when the tabernacle has been re-locked, there is usually a great stirring and confusion. Those who have not received Holy Communion now suddenly and emphatically sit back in the pews; those who have received Holy Communion continue to kneel. The consequent collisions and conflicts, squirmings and adjustings do little indeed to inspire peaceful thanksgiving to the Eucharistic Lord.

I can offer no solution for .this problem beyond a plea for a general decency and courtesy like that which we display toward anyone who depends upon us for comfort and moderate peace of mind. Again, that is just a matter of simple thoughtfulness.

EQUIPMENT

The Catholic who knows his religion comes to Mass properly equipped. He is at least as well prepared as a sportsman going to a game or an opera lover to the opera. He does not come empty-handed. He carries his missal as his guide to the Mass and his means of personal participation in the Mass. Or he brings a prayer book. If he prefers his rosary, he has his rosary ready for use.

No one else looks more ignorant or more discourteous than the man or the woman who is empty-handed during Mass or a church service, whose look grows vague and distracted, and whose eyes inevitably start to wander-sure sign that the mind is wandering too. It is tragic that, the physical presence being all that is required to avoid the mortal sin of missing Mass, so many Catholics during the infinitely precious moments of Mass do absolutely nothing.

Among the equipment not to bring to Mass are huge bags and a multiplicity of packages and canes (unless one is expert in the handling of them) and any article that cannot easily be disposed of. Some day improved Catholic church architecture may provide checkrooms. Some day the space under the seats may be built to hold the impedimenta of the worshipper. In the interval a churchgoer, like a modern plane traveller, is wise to travel light.

JUST NOTES

Akin to that old animal monstrosity the “end-seat hog” is the person who fills the empty seats beside him with coat, hat, baggage, umbrella, packages, and books. Invariably when others come to occupy the rest of the pew, he looks up indignantly (a trick he learned from the “E.S.H.”), sighs painfully, removes his property reluctantly, and makes the intruder feel like a heel who is causing a guiltless victim to be crushed under the weight of intolerable burdens.

May one remark by the way in swift transit that kneeling benches are exactly what the name implies? They are not footrests. They are not hassocks. You who rest your muddy feet thereon . next time you go to church in your best new spring outfit, may you be shown into a pew that has lately been occupied by someone who scraped his muddy feet on the kneeling bench . . . and may you rise from your knees with your light trousers or new dress permanently stained with mud-the same sort of mud that you left behind on other kneeling benches.

THE REAR GUARD

There is a special race of young men whose natural habitat is the space between the back wall and the last pew. Julius Caesar repeats a tall tale of some animals found in the German forests in his day that had no joints in their legs. They could rest only by leaning against the trees. So the hunters did not bother to shoot them with arrows; they merely cut down the trees against which the sleeping animals rested, and the animals toppled over, were unable to rise (no joints, you see), and were captured.

The only descendants of these mythical animals that I can think of are the young men who lean against the back walls of parish churches. They must have no joints in their knees. At least they find kneeling one of the most tortuous tasks of life. They cluster close to the centre exit. They come in when they are absolutely sure that the priest has reached the foot of the altar. They slip out for a smoke during the announcements and the sermon. And when the priest says, “Ite, Missa est,” “Go, Mass is finished,” they show the first sign of response. With a joyous “Thanks be to God!” they are out, hats on, cigarettes lighted, and conversation resumed-before the priest’s hand has finished the movements of the blessing.

If they make heaven, they will probably make a last-minute rush for it just as the gates are closing. Surely there will be a special place for them near the heavenly checkroom, where they can cluster together protectively, far, far from the great white throne, some place where the scent of fire and smoke comes reminiscently from outside.

Would it do any good to tell them that if, as some of the worst-mannered do, they deliberately skip the section of Mass prior to the Offertory and then leave right after the Communion, they have not heard a complete Mass or fulfilled the obligation that is binding under pain of serious sin?

ON TIME

While we are on that subject of time and the Mass, may I suggest that politeness requires that we arrive in time? By “in time” I think that any well-mannered person means sufficiently before the service to be in one’s place, with one’s mind disposed, and a calm expectancy of the great things to be done. Is five minutes before the beginning of Mass too much to ask?

In my particular line of priestly work it is not often my privilege to say Mass in parish churches. When I do say Mass in a parish church, I understand the irritation felt by priests (and its divine equivalent by God) when the second that the prayers at the foot of the altar are finished there is a mass rising and a violent rush as the great body of the faithful dash and scramble from the church.

The second the priest has finished the last “O Sacred Heart of Jesus” and has risen to get the chalice from the altar they bolt for the door. I have sometimes turned as I walked from the altar to the sacristy and seen my congregation presenting to me a solid bank of backs. I did for them the finest thing: I offered God the Sacrifice of the Mass and spoke to the best of my ability Christ’s truth. They dashed out before I left the sanctuary, jamming into the aisles and piling out as if someone had suddenly called out, “Air raid!”

I don’t like it. I doubt that God likes it.

QUIET AND NOISE

People who visit a Catholic Church for the first time are usually deeply impressed with the quiet that prevails. So many people gather together, and so much order and reverence! Though they be utterly ignorant of what is going on, the strangers find in the Catholic church a calm that is utterly restful, a peace that is all pervading.

Unless, alas! it happens that an epidemic of coughing has seized the community.

Some coughing is inevitable. Some coughing is painful aftermath of hard winters. Much of the coughing, however, is like most of the awful throat clearing, plainly nervous habit, easily controlled but luxurious to pamper and release.

THROUGH STATIC

Have you ever been in church when the priest in the pulpit was raising a somewhat thin voice against the barrage of coughers who were drowning him out almost completely? The sermon sounded more than a little like this:

“My dear Brethren: The Gospel this morning is concerned with that important lesson which Christ taught regarding . . . bark! bark! bark . . . Our Lord has just returned from . . . gr-rrr! . . where He had worked that preliminary miracle of . . . rrrr! bark! brrrrr! bark! . . . And when the man said to Him . . . cough! cough! cough! sneeeeze! . .Our Lord spoke words we shall never forget . . . grr! grrr! arrr! hakes! . . From this we learn that all-important lesson that . . . bark! cough! sneeze! gr-rr! hawk! br-rr . . . a blessing I wish you all in the name of . . . bark! gr-rr! brrrr! . . . Amen.”

It makes a lot ofinteresting sense, doesn’t it?

Great orchestra conductors will stop a symphony, turn, and stand in complete silence until some cougher in the audience gets it over with. Christ and His priests are much more tolerant.

DISTURBING PRAYER

Coughing can sometimes be as involuntary as any other reflex. No one, the old saying goes, can hide a love, a fire, or a cough. Granted. But one can control all three . . . and should.

What can be controlled however-and should particularly be controlled-is the maddening habit of praying aloud. .

Have you ever at the evening parish service found yourself sitting just in front of one of those dear souls who say their rosary in something between a croon; a keen; and a stage whisper? She usually kneels, her head far-forward so that her mouth is almost at your ear. You follow her devotions, deep, passionately, devout, resonant, fervid, warm, highly articulate, through the mysteries of the rosary to the final crowning of Our Lady.

Secondhand prayers are certainly not the most inspiring, and they do not make for deep devotion on the part of enforced listeners.

SLOW AND FAST

In somewhat the same disturbing category is the person near you who is always prayerfully out of step when the rosary is led by the priest and answered by the congregation. She answers the “Hail, Mary” with a “Holy Mary” that comes in about the middle of everyone else’s response. “Hail, Mary . . .” says the priest, praying devoutly his part of the prayer. “Holy Mary . . .” answers the congregation. And just as they reach, “pray for us sinners. . . . our all-out-of-step-but-Jim lets forth a loud and long-drawnout, “Ho-o-o-ly Ma-a-ary . . .” Her sole and solitary voice is heard long after the response of all the others has been ended.

The antithesis of this type is the prayer who wants to give the responses like a creature on the alert to pounce. “Hail, Mary, full of grace,” says the priest, “the Lord is with thee. Blessed art thou . .” Before he gets any further, there is a spurt of speed, a dash of power, a gush of words-and the quickstarter leaps in with “Holy Mary, Mother of God . . .” The rest of the congregation is left far, far back in the pack. Frequently one of these prayerful swallows, darting and dashing about the ears of the congregation, will, when he is finished, look around at the others with a disgusted air of “What’s keeping you?” Only the faith and devotion of good Catholic people keep them from walking out and leaving the field to his complete conquest.

Community prayer is prayer by a community. It is nota solid harmony carried for the sake of a soloist’s performance of an obligato to which the rest are mere musical background. There is much politeness in keeping one’s private devotions strictly private and making one’s community prayers an integral part of the community .

. . . AND SONG

In my salad days there was a sister who walked up and down the aisle at the children’s Mass, listening for the boys who persisted in singing an octave below key. That sound of a voice not harmonising but simply singing a premature bass disturbed her as it has disturbed, I think, every music lover before or since.

Nowadays, thanks to the blues’ singers on the radio, it is more likely the young ladies who sing the octave below. On the radio the men sound like contraltos and the women sound like baritones, so naturally enough confusion of the sexes has passed over into our singing congregation.

Needless to say, this is not a discussion of church music. But musical politeness might be summarized in a few simple rules. If you are tone deaf, sing to God in your heart. He will love your music, toneless though it be, and He will not be thrown off the tune.

Sing on the pitch; don’t dive an octave below.

If the singing is in unison, sing in unison. Your harmonization may be excellent, but in this case it will be distracting.

In church music the important thing is the words. The music is a mere carrying medium for the great content of the words,

Learn the words, and sing them as a great prayer straight for your heart.

If you have a. voice, sing out. Full, rich, enthusiastic congregational singing must give deep joy to God.

Don’t look around to see who is singing and give them the look that means, “So You think you have a good voice, do you? Well, poor dear, it’s too bad that you have to come to church to show it off.”

Sing to the Lord in gladness. If possible, sing to Him in tune and in key.

VIEWED FROM THE PULPIT

I find it a good thing every so often to take my place in the pews. It brings back to me a few of the problems of the people who kneel there. For one thing it has made me think feelingly about badly designed kneeling benches, the kind that are too close together and that make you kneel as straight as a ramrod.

On the same principle I think that it might be an excellent thing if occasionally the faithful could get a viewpoint from the pulpit. Perhaps the faces of the congregation are a reflex reaction to the sermon of the preacher. Perhaps a rather vacuous sermon arouses vacuity in the upturned faces, and a sermon apathetically prepared arouses a corresponding apathy in the people.

Yet there are times when the preacher has really tried to prepare well and then do his prayerful best. Yet he looks out over a congregation of glazed eyes, unsuppressed yawns, and fingers leafing through the parish bulletin. It is deflating. The reaction may be deserved, but it’s hard to take.

Perhaps the preacher is far from inspiring. But he might retort that the average congregation is no great thriller either. Maybe if the people sat up with an sir of expectancy . . . maybe if the preacher saw response in their eyes . . maybe if the devotee of St. Jude didn’t during the sermon hurry over to pray fervently at his shrine . . . maybe if the client of the Little Flower didn’t turn the pages of her life eagerly just as the sermon text was announced . . . the priest would be aroused to greater oratorical flights and to a keener desire to inspire his congregation.

For great oratory the ancient textbooks placed three necessary things: a great subject, a great man, a great occasion.

The great subject we always have.

The priests would be slow ever to call himself a great man.

An alert, interested, vital, deeply concerned audience makes an occasion.

The poor priest is thrown off by the man who constantly consults his watch . . . and the girl who looks around to see whether her young man, left like an umbrella in the stand at the back of the church, has escaped her . . . and the dear old lady who for a time cups her ear and then, as if the whole thing wasn’t worth the effort, drops her hands and lapses into what the preacher knows is the delicious solitude of her deafness.

COURTESY AT CONFESSION

Confession is an occasion when good manners should have an important place.

Most churches have the custom of penitents standing in queues before the confessionals. It is an expedient not too happy, but it is necessary.

As a child, how I hated older people, who, just because I was young and hence defenceless, cut in ahead of me and said, “You don’t mind if I go first, do you?” I minded like the very mischief. But what was I against their age and the authority of their years?

Since then I have noticed human torpedoes who lurk in the pews and then, when someone at the head of the Nine hesitates, suddenly dash out and into the confessional before the waiting penitents can protest-or can trip the villains.

It doesn’t make for a prayerful confession to have someone steal your place in line.

There are simple considerations that promote much goodwill around a confessional. I will of course gladly hear the confession of anyone at any time; but I offer it up as one of my major penances when the penitent breathes into my dark and not-too-well-ventilated compartment the emphasis of freshly gathered onions, the smell of not-too-good whisky, the reek of stale tobacco, or the enthusiastic rehearsal of recent garlic.

In the church of my childhood it was a matter of minor excommunication to send children to confession in the evening. The evening was reserved for adults; children went to confession in the morning or in the early afternoon.

Undoubtedly there are circumstances that make it necessary for a child to go to confession in the evening. But as a practice it is a lack of consideration for the adults who work and the women whose days are occupied with households.

How very annoying it is to priest and people when parents bring large broods of children to confession just before Trinity Sunday, on Christmas Eve, or on the afternoon of Holy Saturday.

There are possibly some excuses. Offhand I find such excuses hard to locate.

WHEN JAMMED

The priest is glad enough to hear at any time and in any place the confession that begins, “Father, it’s thirty years since my last confession, and I’ve forgotten how to go about it.” But it’s fifty to one that that opening line will be delivered about ten o’clock on the night before Trinity Sunday, with a hundred people standing in two lines outside a confessional in which one priest has already been hearing confessions for the last twelve hours. People who have .heavy problems to discuss or long periods of delinquencies to straighten out are welcome at any time. But how much courtesy and common sense they would show if they came when the priest was not besieged by phalanxes of waiting penitents or on a day when less than half the parish wanted to go to confession.

Come any time, you who want your sins absolved. Those waiting in line will however love you much better if you don’t pick the really crowded seasons of the year to explain your troubles with your daughter-in-law, to find out about that property that you think you perhaps should return, or to square accounts for a half-century absence from church.

AT THE ALTAR RAIL

Holy Communion is by Christ’s own design a feast of brotherly love. It is the endless repetition of the agape, the love feast of the early Christians, where men and women gathered happily around the table of the Lord to express their love for Him, to feel His love for them, and to manifest in the breaking of bread at a communal table their love for one another.

The last thing in the world that Holy Communion should be is a dash, a crush, or a bargain-basement struggle. Every Catholic should know exactly when to go to Holy Communion. Those who are up front would do well to advance to the communion rail just the minute that the triple ringing of the bell announces that the priest has said the “Doming, non sum dignus.” When he turns for the absolution, the priest is pleased to see people reverently kneeling at the communion rail, the altar cloth under their chins, their eyes raised in welcome to the coming of their Lord.

From that moment on the approach of the rest of the congregation should be orderly and reverent. Dashing up the aisles, arms swinging . . the sudden leap by which one thrusts oneself into a small space between two people already at the altar rail . . the person going toward the altar rail bumping against the one coming back-all this is bad taste, bad manners, and totally unnecessary.

Confusion and collision, even harsh looks and the stealing of places at the love feast are utterly incongruous.

MOUTHS AND TONGUES

Every priest who has for a brief time been distributing Holy Communion could qualify as a specialist on mouths and tongues. And how he comes to appreciate the people who receive Holy Communion correctly!

The well-instructed person closes his eyes when the priest comes to him. He has kept his eyes open to be sure of the moment that the priest will stand before him. Now he lifts his head and shuts his eyes, not tightly, but enough so that he will not be staring at the priest. It is amazing how many people look up, embarrassed, with eyes glazed and fixed, not knowing where to look, not wanting to outstare the priest, not wishing to look at the Host, and yet never thinking simply to close their eyes-as they should.

That well-instructed person opens his mouth quietly and holds his head firmly and without motion. Some people pull back just as the priest approaches with the Host. Time and again in cases of this kind the priest drops the Host, and the communicant wonders why.

The correct communicant does not snap at the Host. In this case too the priest is likely to drop the Host. He is advancing the Host toward the open mouth, when all of a sudden and without warning the communicant thrusts his mouth forward and snaps; and with that quick protective instinct that is a reflex, the priest pulls back.

The mouth should be well open.

It is maddening to try to locate a mouth hidden by a lowered head . . . or a mouth that bares teeth that are almost closed . . . or a mouth open in a sort of affected cupid’s bow.

Each Catholic might well study before a mirror the position in which his tongue should be to receive Holy Communion. Some people put forward the daintiest little peninsula of a tongue, utterly inadequate to offer a solid resting place for the Host. Others manage somehow to lift their tongue into a round hump: a position that imperils the Host. Still others thrust their tongue so far forward that the priest is confronted with an unnecessary and unexpected view of palate and tonsils.

It is no difficult trick to offer the tongue for the reception of Holy Communion. The tongue should be presented wide, flat, resting easily on the teeth, a firm, solid surface to welcome and hold the Host, the Eucharistic Lord.

AFTERWARD

After he has received Holy Communion, the instructed Catholic goes back to his place with reverently folded hands, eyes cast down, and a gait suggesting the living tabernacle that he surely is. However hard it may be to control the meandering of one’s thought, it is not difficult to assume a reverent physical attitude, which at least indicates to the Saviour that we should like to be prayerful and thoughtful if our minds were not so flea-like and so much the will of the wisp.

Need we even pause to mention the obvious good manners that should mark a devout thanksgiving after Holy Communion and the careful use of those precious moments when Christ is our beloved guest and we are host to the Host?

AND SO . . .

There is another long section to be written about the good manners of paying for booklets taken from the bookrack . . of writing one’s name on the envelope that contains one’s contribution to the church funds . . of the care of children during Mass and church services. . . .

This is, however, enough for now.

I shall try as a priest to exercise near the altar those lovely manners that are the ritual and rubrics of the Church. I shall be happy if these little suggestions help the laity to better manners in that great body of the church where the royal priesthood of the faithful helps me to do the work of God and to offer up the sacrifice of the Lord.

Nihil obstat:

D. P. MURPHY, Censor Deputatus.

Imprimatur:

@ D. MANNIX,

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis.

********

Pope Pius Xii Speaks To Mothers

ALLOCUTION OF POPE PIUS XII

INDEX

‘DAVANTI A QUESTA’ 1941

TRANSLATION BY CANON G. D. SMITH

FOREWORD

BY CANON E. J. MAHONEY

It might seem an unusual procedure, if not an impertinence, for a priest to preface an important papal utterance with a few words of his own, were it not thought opportune to remind the reader of two other fairly recent directions of the Holy See on what is, perhaps, the most significant portion of this address’-the section headed ‘The training of the will in adolescence.’ In the Encyclical of Pius XI on the Christian Education of Youth, 31 December, 1929, we are warned against the public and indiscriminate imparting of precautionary instructions on sexual matters to the young, since evil practices are the effect not so much of ignorance of intellect as of weakness of a will exposed to dangerous occasions, and unsupported by the means of grace. In this extremely delicate matter, if, all things considered, some private instruction is found necessary and opportune, from those who hold from God the commission to teach and who have the grace of state, every precaution must be taken.’ A decree of the Holy Office,21 March,1931, condemned in general terms a purely secular type of sex education or instruction and, referring to the above Encyclical, declared that our first care must be to train the young in the virtue of purity by religious means: recourse to prayer and the sacraments, devotion to Our Lady, and the careful avoidance of all sinful occasions. (A.A.S. xxiii, 1931, p.118.) The present papal pronouncement, it will be observed, is more explicit and detailed than either of its predecessors, and will set at rest the scruples of some Catholic parents who may have thought that a policy of complete secrecy is the Catholic practice and tradition.

THE POPE SPEAKS TO MOTHERS

(Allocution of Pope Pius XII to a concourse of women of Catholic Action and their helpers from all the dioceses of Italy, on the Feast of Christ the King, 26 October, 1941A.A.S., 1941, xxxiii, pp. 450–458.)

As We look round upon this splendid gathering of mothers, teaching sisters, schoolmistresses, representatives of the children of Italian Catholic Action, and others who devote themselves to the work of education, Our thoughts go beyond the threshold of this hall, beyond the confines of Italy, and reach to the ends of the earth as We embrace all those dear children who are the flower of the human race and the joy of their mothers’ hearts. At the same time We are mindful of the immortal Pope Pius XI who in his Encyclical Divini illius magistri of 31 December, 1929, treated so profoundly of the Christian education of the young. Dealing with this important subject he judiciously allocated the parts which belong respectively to the Church, the family, and the State, and then went on regretfully to observe that parents are often unprepared or ill equipped for their work as educators. Accordingly, and since the limits of that lucid and exhaustive document did not permit him to deal in detail with education in the home, he exhorted in the name of Christ all pastors of souls to use every means, by catechism and instruction, by word of mouth and in widely published writings, to ensure that Christian parents are well instructed both in general and in particular regarding their duties in the religious, moral, and civic education of their children, and regarding the best methods-apart from their own example-of attaining that end.”

In so exhorting the pastors of souls the great Pontiff was exhorting parents also, fathers and mothers alike. But we believe that we are acting in accordance with the desire of our venerated Predecessor in reserving this special audience for mothers and other teachers of children. It is true that when We speak to the newly wed Our words are addressed also to you; nevertheless We are glad to have this opportunity of speaking to you in a special way, dearly beloved daughters, because We see in mothers, and in their expert and pious helpers, those who exert the earliest and the most intimate influence upon the souls of little ones and upon their growth in piety and virtue.

We need not delay to remind you how important and how necessary is this work of education in the home, and how grave a mother’s obligation not to neglect it or perform it with indifference. Speaking as We are to our beloved daughters of Catholic Action We can have no doubt that they regard this obligation as the first of their duties as Christian mothers, and as a task in which none can fully take their place. But it is not enough to be conscious of an obligation and to have the desire to discharge it; it is necessary also to render oneself capable of discharging it competently.

THE NEED OF SERIOUS PREPARATION FOR THE DIFFICULT WORK OF EDUCATION It is a curious circumstance and, as Pope Pius XI remarked in his Encyclical, a lamentable one, that whereas no one would dream of suddenly becoming a mechanic or an engineer, a doctor or a lawyer, without any apprenticeship or preparation, yet every day there are numbers of young men and women who marry without having given an instant’s thought to preparing themselves for the arduous work of educating their children which awaits them. And yet, if St Gregory the Great could speak of the government of souls as ‘the art of arts,’ surely no art is more difficult and strenuous than that of fashioning the souls of children, for those souls are so very tender, so easily disfigured through some thoughtless influence or wrong advice, so difficult to guide aright and so lightly led astray, more susceptible than wax to receive a disastrous and indelible impression through malignant influences or culpable neglect. Fortunate the child whose mother stands by its cradle like a guardian angel to inspire and lead it in the path of goodness! And s o while We congratulate you upon what you have already achieved, We cannot but exhort you warmly and anew to develop those splendid organisations which are doing so much to provide for every rank and social class educators conscious of their high mission, in mind and bearing alert against evil and zealous to promote good. Such sentiments in a woman and a mother give her the right to that reverence and dignity which belong to a man’s loyal helpmate; such a mother is like a pillar, for she is the central support of the home; she is like a beacon whose light gives an example to the parish and brings illumination to the pious associations of which she is a member.

THE MOTHER’S WORK OF TRAINING DURING INFANCY

Especially opportune are those organisations of your Union of Catholic Action which seeks to help and train the young wife before childbearing and during the infancy of her offspring. In this you are doing an angel’s work, watching over the mother and the little one she bears within her, and then when the baby comes, standing by the cot to help the mother as with breast and smile she feeds body and soul of the tiny angel that heaven has sent her. To woman God has given the sacred mission, painful yet how joyous, of maternity; and to her too, more than to anyone else, is entrusted the first education of the child in its early months and years. Of heredity, which may exercise such an influence upon the future cast of a child’s character, We will not speak-except to say that this hidden heritage sometimes points an accusing finger at the irregular life of the parents, who are thus gravely responsible for making it difficult for their offspring to lead a truly Christian life. Fathers and mothers, whose mutual love is sanctified by the faith of Christ, see that before your child is born you prepare a pure family atmosphere in which it may open its eyes to light and its soul to life, so that the good odour of Christ may linger about every step of its moral development.

Mothers, your sensibility is greater and your love more tender, and therefore you will keep a vigilant eye upon your babies throughout their infancy, watching over their growth and over the health of their little bodies, for they are flesh of your flesh and the fruit of your womb. Remember that your children are the adopted sons of God and specially beloved of Christ; remember that their angels look for ever on the face of the heavenly Father; and so you too as you rear them must be angels in like manner, in all your care and vigilance keeping your eyes fixed upon heaven. It is your task from the cradle to begin their education in soul as well as in body; for if you do not educate them they will begin, for good or ill, to educate themselves. Many of the moral characteristics which you see in the youth or the man owe their origin to the manner and circumstances of his first upbringing in infancy: purely organic habits contracted at that time may later prove a serious obstacle to the spiritual life of the soul. And so you will make it your special care in the treatment of your child to observe the prescriptions of a perfect hygiene, so that when it comes to the use of reason its bodily organs and faculties will be healthy and robust and free from distorted tendencies. This is the reason why, except where it is quite impossible, it is most desirable that the mother should feed her child at her own breast. Who shall say what mysterious influences are exerted upon the growth of that little creature by the mother upon whom it depends entirely for its development!

Have you observed those little eyes, wide open, restlessly questioning, their glance darting from this thing to that, following a movement or a gesture, already expressing joy or pain, anger and obstinacy, and giving other signs of those little passions that nestle in the heart of man even before the tiny lips have learned to utter a word? This is perfectly natural. Notwithstanding what certain thinkers have maintained, we are not born endowed with knowledge or with the memories and dreams of a life already lived. The mind of the child as it comes forth from its mother’s womb is a page upon which nothing is written; from hour to hour as it passes on its way from the cradle to the tomb its eyes and other senses, internal and external, transmit the life of the world through their own vital activity, and will write upon that page the images and ideas of the things among which it lives. Hence an irresistible instinct for truth and goodness turns the simple soul that nothing knows upon the things of sense; and all these powers of feeling, all these childish sensations, by way of which mind and will come gradually to their awakening, need to be educated, trained, carefully guided, otherwise the normal awakening and proper direction of these noble faculties of the spirit will be compromised and distorted. From that early age a loving look, a warning word, must teach the child not to yield to all its impressions, and as reason dawns it must learn to discriminate and to master the vagaries of its sensations; in a word, under the guidance and admonition of the mother it must begin the work of its own education.

Study the child in his tender age. If you know him well you will educate him well; you will not misconceive his character; you will come to understand him, knowing when to give way and when to be firm; a naturally good disposition does not fall to the lot of all the sons of men.

THE TRAINING OF THE MIND

Train the mind of your children. Do not give them wrong ideas or wrong reasons for things; whatever their questions may be, do not answer them with evasions or untrue statements which their minds rarely accept; but take occasion from them lovingly and patiently to train their minds, which want only to open to the truth and to grasp it with the first ingenuous gropings of their reasoning and reflective powers. Who can say what many a genius may not owe to the prolonged and trustful questionings of a childhood at the home fireside!

THE TRAINING OF THE CHARACTER

Train the character of your children. Correct their faults, encourage and cultivate their good qualities and coordinate them with that stability which will make for resolution in after life. Your children, conscious as they grow up and as they begin to think and will, that they are guided by a good parental will, constant and strong, free from violence and anger, not subject to, weakness or inconsistency, will learn in time to see therein the interpreter of another and higher will, the will of God, and so they will plant in their souls the seeds of those early moral habits which fashion and sustain a character, train it to self-control in moments of crisis and to courage in the face of conflict or sacrifice, and imbue it with a deep sense of Christian duty.

THE TRAINING OF THE HEART

Train their hearts. Frequently the decision of a man’s destiny, the ruin of his character, or a grave danger threatening him, may be traced to his childish years when his heart was spoiled by the fond flattery, silly fussing, and foolish indulgence of misguided parents. The impressionable little heart became accustomed to see all things revolve and gravitate around it, to find all things yielding to its will and caprice, and so there took root in it that boundless egoism of which the parents themselves were later to become the first victims! All this is often the just penalty of the selfishness of parents who deny their only child the joy of having little brothers and sisters who, sharing in the mother’s love, would have accustomed him to think of others besides himself. What deep and rich potentialities for love, goodness, and devotion lie dormant in the heart of a child! You, mothers, must awaken them, foster them, direct them, raise them up to Him ,who will sanctify them, to Jesus; to Jesus, and to Mary, their heavenly Mother, who will open the child’s heart to piety, will teach it by prayer to offer its pure sacrifices and innocent victories to the divine Lover of little ones; she will teach it to feel compassion for the poor and unhappy. How joyous is the springtime of ,childhood, unruffled by wind or storm!

THE TRAINING OF THE WILL IN ADOLESCENCE

But the day will come when the childish heart will feel fresh impulses stirring within it; new desires will disturb the serenity of those early years. In that time of trial, Christian mothers, remember that to train the heart means to train the will to resist the attacks of evil and the insidious temptations of passion; during that period of transition from the unconscious purity of infancy to the triumphant purity of adolescence you have a task of the highest importance to fulfil. You have to prepare your sons and daughters so that they may pass with unfaltering step, like those who pick their way among serpents, through that time of crisis and physical change; and pass through it without losing anything of the joy of innocence, preserving intact that natural instinct of modesty with which Providence has girt them as a check upon wayward passion. That sense of modesty, which in its spontaneous abhorrence from the impure is akin to the sense of religion, is made of little account in these days; but you, mothers, will take care that they do not lose it through indecency in dress or self-adornment, through unbecoming familiarities or immoral spectacles; on the contrary you will seek to make it more delicate and alert, more upright and sincere. You will keep a watchful eye on their steps; you will not suffer the whiteness of their souls to be stained and contaminated by corrupt and corrupting company; you will inspire them with a high esteem and jealous love for purity, advising them to commend themselves to the sure and motherly protection of the Immaculate Virgin. Finally, with the discretion of a mother and a teacher, and thanks to the open-hearted confidence with which you have been able to inspire your children, you will not fail to watch for and to discern the moment in which certain unspoken questions have occurred to their minds and are troubling their senses. It will then be your duty to your daughters, the father’s duty to your sons, carefully and delicately to unveil the truth as far as it appears necessary, to give a prudent, true, and Christian answer to those questions, and set their minds at rest. If imparted by the lips of Christian parents, at the proper time, in the proper measure, and with the proper precautions, the revelation of the mysterious and marvellous laws of life will be received by them with reverence and gratitude, and will enlighten their minds with far less danger than if they learned them haphazard, from some disturbing encounter, from secret conversations, through information received from oversophisticated companions, or from clandestine reading, the more dangerous and pernicious as secrecy inflames the imagination and troubles the senses. Your words, if they are wise and discreet, will prove a safeguard and a warning in the midst of the temptations and the corruption which surround them, ‘because foreseen an arrow comes more slowly.”

THE POWERFUL AID OF RELIGION

But in this great work of the Christian education of your sons and daughters you well understand that training in the home, however wise, however thorough, is not enough. It needs to be supplemented and perfected by the powerful aid of religion. From the moment of baptism the priest possesses the authority of a spiritual father and a pastor over your children, and you must cooperate with him in teaching them those first rudiments of catechism and piety which are the only basis of a solid education, and of which you, the earliest teachers of your children, ought to have a sufficient and sure knowledge. You cannot teach what you do not know yourselves. Teach them to love God, to love Christ, to love our Mother the Church and the pastors of the Church who are your guides. Love the catechism and teach your children to love it; it is the great handbook of the love and fear of God, of Christian wisdom and of eternal life.

VALIANT HELPERS IN THE WORK OF EDUCATION

In your work of education, which is many-sided, you will feel the need and the obligation of having recourse to others to help you: choose helpers who are Christians like yourselves, and choose them with all the care that is called for by the treasure which you are entrusting to them: you are committing to them the faith, the purity, and the piety of your children. But when you have chosen them you must not think that you are henceforth liberated from your duty and your vigilance., you must cooperate with them. However eminent school teachers may be in their profession they will have little success in the formation of the character of your children without your collaboration-still less if instead of helping and lending support to their efforts you were to counteract and oppose them. What a misfortune it would be if at home your indulgence and fond weakness were to undo all that has been done at school, at catechism, or in Catholic associations, to form the character and foster the piety of your children!

But some mothers may say-children are so difficult to manage nowadays! I can do nothing with that son of mine; that daughter of mine is impossible! Admittedly many boys and girls at the age of twelve or fifteen show themselves intractable. But why? Because when they were two or three years old they were allowed to do as they pleased. True, some temperaments are ungrateful and rebellious; but however unresponsive, however obstinate, he is still your child. Would you love him any the less than his brothers and sisters if he were sickly or deformed? God has given him to you; see that you do not treat him as the outcast of the family. No child is so unruly that he cannot be trained with care, patience, and love; and it will rarely happen that even the stoniest and most unpromising soil will not bear some flower of submission and virtue, if only an unreasonable severity does not run the risk of exterminating the seed of good will which even the proudest soul has hidden within it. The whole education of your children would be ruined were they to discover in their parents-and their eyes are sharp enough to see-any signs of favouritism, undue preferences, or antipathies in regard to any of them. For your own good and for the good of the family it must be clear that, whether you use measured severity or give encouragement and caresses, you have an equal love for all, a love which makes no distinction save for the correction of evil or for the encouragement of good. Have you not received them all equally from God ?

TEACHERS SIDE BY SIDE WITH CHRISTIAN MOTHERS

Our words have been addressed principally to you, Christian mothers. But with you we see around us today a gathering of nuns, teachers, and others engaged in the work of Christian education. They are mothers too, not by nature or by blood but by the love which they bear to the young, who are so dear to Christ and to His Bride the Church. Yes, you too are mothers, you who work side by side with Christian mothers in the work of education; for you have a mother’s heart, burning with the charity which the Holy Spirit has poured out in you. In this charity, which is the charity of Christ that presses you on the path of well-doing, you find your light, your comfort, and the work that brings you so close to mothers, fathers, and children. You gather together these living branches of society, these children who are the hope of their parents and of the Church, and form them into a great family of thousands and thousands of little ones; you develop the training of their minds, characters, and hearts, bringing them up in a spiritual and moral atmosphere in which the joyousness of innocence appears side by side with faith in God and reverence for holy things, with a sense of duty towards parents and country. Our praise and gratitude, joined with the thanks of all mothers, go out to you in full measure. In your schools, homes, colleges, and associations you emulate and continue the mother’s work of training. You are truly a sisterhood of spiritual mothers whose offspring is the pure flower of youth.

CONCLUSION

Christian mothers and beloved daughters, of your incomparable mission-fraught in these days with so many difficulties and obstacles-We have been able only briefly to describe the glories. What a majestic figure is that of the mother in the home as she fulfils, her destiny at the cradle side, the nurse and teacher of her little ones! Hers is truly a task full of labour, and We should be tempted to deem her unequal to it were it not for the grace of God which is ever at hand to enlighten, direct, and sustain her in her daily anxieties and toil; were it not, too, for those other educators, mother-like in spirit and energy, whom she calls to aid her in the formation of these youthful souls. Imploring God to fill you to overflowing with His graces and to give increase to your manifold labours on behalf of the young entrusted to you, We grant you from Our heart, as a pledge of heavenly favours, Our fatherly Apostolic Benediction.

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Practice During Lent

FROM “THE LITURGICAL YEAR” BY DOM GUERANGER

INDEX

Having spent the three weeks of Septuagesima in meditating upon our spiritual infirmities and upon the wounds caused in us by sin, we should be ready to enter upon the penitential season which the Church has now begun. We have now a clearer knowledge of the justice and holiness of God, and of the dangers that await an impenitent soul; and, that our repentance might be earnest and lasting, we have bade farewell to the vain joys and baubles of the world. Our pride has been humbled by the prophecy that these bodies would soon be like the ashes that wrote the memento of death upon our foreheads.

During these forty days of penance, which seem so long to our poor nature, we shall not be deprived of the company of our Jesus. He seemed to have withdrawn from us during those weeks of Septuagesima, when everything spoke to us of His maledictions upon sinful man, but this absence has done us good. It has taught us how to tremble at the voice of God’s anger. ‘The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom’;[1] we have found it to be so: the spirit of penance is now active within us, because we have feared.

And now, let us look at the divine object that is before us. It is our Emmanuel; the same Jesus, but not under the form of the sweet Babe whom we adored in His crib. He has grown to the fullness of the age of man, and wears the semblance of a sinner, trembling and humbling Himself before the sovereign Majesty of His Father whom we have offended, and to whom He now offers Himself as the Victim of propitiation. He loves us with a brother’s love; and seeing that the season for doing penance has begun, He comes to cheer us on by His presence and His own example. We are going to spend forty days in fasting and abstinence: Jesus, who is innocence itself, goes through the same penance. We have separated ourselves, for a time, from the pleasures and vanities of the world: Jesus withdraws from the company and sight of men. We intend to assist at the divine services more assiduously, and pray more fervently, than at other times: Jesus suppliant; and all this for us. We are going to think over our past sins, and bewail them in bitter grief: Jesus suffers for them and weeps over them in the silence of the desert, as though He Himself had committed them.

No sooner had He received baptism from the hands of St. John, than the Holy Ghost led Him to the desert. The time had come for showing Himself to the world; He would begin by teaching us a lesson of immense importance. He leaves the saintly Precursor and the admiring multitude, that had seen the divine Spirit descend upon Him, and heard the Father’s voice proclaiming Him to be His beloved Son; He leaves them and goes into the desert. Not far from the Jordan there rises a rugged mountain, which has received, in after ages, the name of Quarantana. It commands a view of the fertile plain of Jericho, the Jordan, and the Dead Sea. It is within a cave of this wild rock that the Son of God now enters, His only companions being the dumb animals who have chosen this same for their own shelter. He has no food wherewith to satisfy the pangs of hunger; the barren rock can yield Him no drink; His only bed must be of stone. Here He is to spend forty days; after which, He will permit the angels to visit Him and bring Him food.

Thus does our Savior go before us on the holy path of Lent. He has borne all its fatigues and hardships, that so we, when called upon to tread the narrow way of our lenten penance, might have His example wherewith to silence the excuses, and sophisms, and repugnances, of self-love and pride. The lesson is here too plainly given not to be understood; the law of doing penance for sin is here too clearly shown, and we cannot plead ignorance: let us honestly accept the teaching and practice it. Jesus leaves the desert where He has spent the forty days, and begins His preaching with these words, which He addresses to all men: ‘Do penance, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand.’[2] Let us not harden our hearts to this invitation, lest there be fulfilled in us the terrible threat contained in those other words of our Redeemer: ‘Unless you shall do penance, you shall perish.’[3]

Now, penance consists in contrition of the soul, and mortification of the body; these two parts are essential to it. The soul has willed the sin; the body has frequently co- operated in its commission. Moreover, man is composed of both soul and body; both, then, should pay homage to their Creator. The body is to share with the soul either the delights of heaven or the torments of hell; there cannot, therefore, be any thorough Christian life, or any earnest penance, where the body does not take part, in both, with the soul.

But it is the soul which gives reality to penance. The Gospel teaches this by the examples it holds out to us of the prodigal son, of Magdalene, of Zaccheus, and of St. Peter. The soul, then, must be resolved to give up every sin; she must heartily grieve over those she has committed; she must hate sin; she must shun the occasions of sin. The sacred Scriptures have a word for this inward disposition, which has been adopted by the Christian world, and which admirably expresses the state of the soul that has turned away from her sins: this word is conversion. The Christian should, therefore, during Lent, study to excite himself to this repentance of heart, and look upon it as the essential foundation of all his lenten exercises. Nevertheless, he must remember that this spiritual penance would be a mere delusion, were he not to practice mortification of the body. Let him study the example given him by his Savior, who grieves, indeed, and weeps over our sins; but He also expiates them by His bodily sufferings. Hence it is that the Church, the infallible interpreter of her divine Master’s will, tells us that the repentance of our heart will not be accepted by God, unless it be accompanied by fasting and abstinence.

How great, then, is the illusion of those Christians, who forget their past sins, or compare themselves with others whose lives they take to have been worse than their own; and thus satisfied with themselves, can see no harm or danger in the easy life they intend to pass for the rest of their days! They will tell you that there can be no need of their thinking of their past sins, for they have made a good confession! Is not the life they have led since that time a sufficient proof of their solid piety? And why should anyone speak to them about the justice of God and mortification? Accordingly, as soon as Lent approaches, they must get all manner of dispensations. Abstinence is an inconvenience; fasting has an effect upon their health, it would interfere with their occupations, it is such a change from their ordinary way of living; besides, there are so many people who are better than themselves, and yet who never fast or abstain. And, as the idea never enters their minds of supplying for the penances prescribed by the Church by other penitential exercises, such persons as these gradually and unsuspectingly lose the Christian spirit.

The Church sees this frightful decay of supernatural energy; but she cherishes what is still left, by making her lenten observances easier, year after year. With the hope of maintaining that little, and of seeing it strengthen for some better future, she leaves to the justice of God her children who hearken not to her when she teaches them how they might, even now, propitiate His anger. Alas! these her children, of whom we are speaking, are quite satisfied that things should be as they are, and never think of judging their own conduct by the examples of Jesus and His saints, or by the undeviating rules of Christian penance.

It is true, there are exceptions; but how rare they are, especially in our large towns! Groundless prejudices, idle excuses, bad example, all tend to lead men from the observance of Lent. Is it not sad to hear people giving such a reason as this for their not fasting or abstaining,-because they <feel> them? Surely, they forget that the very aim of fasting and abstinence is to make these bodies of sin[4] suffer and feel. And what will they answer on the day of judgment, when our Savior shall show them how the very Turks, who were the disciples of a gross and sensual religion, had the courage to practice, every year, the austerities of their Ramadan?

But their own conduct will be their loudest accuser. These very persons, who persuade themselves that they have not strength enough to bear the abstinence and fasting of Lent even in their present mitigated form, think nothing of going through incomparably greater fatigues for the sake of temporal gains or worldly enjoyments. Constitutions which have broken down in the pursuit of pleasures which, to say the least, are frivolous, and always dangerous, would have kept up all their vigor, had the laws of God and His Church, and not the desire to please the world, been the guide of their conduct. But such is the indifference wherewith this non-observance of Lent is treated, that it never excites the slightest trouble or remorse of conscience; and those who are guilty of it will argue with you, that people who lived in the middle ages may perhaps have been able to keep Lent, but that now-a-days it is out of the question: and they can coolly say this in the face of all that the Church has done to adapt her lenten discipline to the physical and moral weakness of the present generation! How comes it that, whilst these men have been trained in, or converted to, the faith of their fathers, they can forget that the observance of Lent is an essential mark of Catholicity; and that when the Protestants undertook to <reform> her, in the sixteenth century, one of their chief grievances was that she insisted on her children mortifying themselves by fasting and abstinence?

But it will be asked: ‘Are there, then, no lawful dispensations?’ We answer that there are; and that they are more needed now than in former ages, owing to the general weakness of our constitutions. Still, there is great danger of our deceiving ourselves. If we have strength to go through great fatigues when our own self-love is gratified by them, how is it we are too weak to observe abstinence? If a slight inconvenience deter us from doing this penance, how shall we ever make expiation for our sins? for expiation is essentially painful to nature. The opinion of our physician that fasting will weaken us, may be false, or it may be correct; but is not this mortification of the flesh the very object that the Church aims at, knowing that our soul will profit by the body being brought into subjection? But let us suppose the dispensation to be necessary: that our health would be impaired, and the duties of our state of life neglected, if we were to observe the law of Lent to the letter: do we, in such a case, endeavor, by other works of penance, to supply for those which our health does not allow us to observe? Are we grieved and humbled to find ourselves thus unable to join with the rest of the faithful children of the Church, in bearing the yoke of lenten discipline? Do we ask of our Lord to grant us the grace, next year, of sharing in the merits of our fellow-Christians, and of observing those holy practices which give the soul an assurance of mercy and pardon? If we do, the dispensation will not be detrimental to our spiritual interests; and when the feast of Easter comes, inviting the faithful to partake in its grand joys we may confidently take our place side by side with those who have fasted; for though our bodily weakness has not permitted us to keep pace with them exteriorly, our heart has been faithful to the spirit of Lent.

How long a list of proofs we could still give of the negligence, into which the modern spirit of self-indulgence leads so many among us, in regard of fasting and abstinence! Thus, there are Catholics to be found in every part of the world who make their Easter Communion, and profess themselves to be children of the Catholic Church, who yet have no idea of the obligations of Lent. Their very notion of fasting and abstinence is so vague, that they are not aware that these two practices are quite distinct one from the other; and that the dispensation from one does not, in any way, include a dispensation from the other. If they have, lawfully or unlawfully, obtained exemption from abstinence, it never so much as enters into their minds that the obligation of fasting is still binding upon them during the whole forty days; or if they have had granted to them a dispensation from fasting, they conclude that they may eat any kind of food they wish upon any day. Such ignorance as this is the natural result of the indifference wherewith the commandments and traditions of the Church are treated.

So far, we have been speaking of the non-observance of Lent in its relation to individuals and Catholics; let us now say a few words upon the influence which that same non-observance has upon a whole people or nation. There are but few social questions which have not been ably and spiritedly treated of by the public writes of the age, who have devoted their talents to the study of political economy; and it has often been a matter of surprise to us that they should have overlooked a subject of such deep interest as this: the results produced on society by the abolition of Lent; that is to say, of an institution which, more than any other, keeps up in the public mind a keen sentiment of moral right and wrong, inasmuch as it imposes on a nation an annual expiation for sin. No shrewd penetration is needed to see the difference between two nations, one of which observes, each year, a forty-days’ penance in reparation of the violations committed against the law of God, and another, whose very principles reject all such solemn reparation. And looking at the subject from another point of view-is it not to be feared that the excessive use of animal food tends to weaken, rather than to strengthen, the constitution? We are convinced of it: the time will come when a greater proportion of vegetable, and less of animal, diet will be considered as an essential means for maintaining the strength of the human frame.

Let, then, the children of the Church courageously observe the Lenten practices of penance. Peace of conscience is essential to Christian life; and yet it is promised to none but truly penitent souls. Lost innocence is to be regained by the humble confession of the sin, when it is accompanied by the absolution of the priest; but let the faithful be on their guard against the dangerous error, which would persuade them that they have nothing to do when once pardoned. Let them remember the solemn warning given them by the Holy Ghost in the sacred Scriptures: ‘Be not without fear about sin forgiven’![5] Our confidence of our having been forgiven should be in proportion to the change or conversion of our heart; the greater our present detestation of our past sins and the more earnest our desire to do penance for them for the rest of our lives, the better founded is our confidence that they have been pardoned. ‘Man knoweth not,’ as the same holy Volume assures us, ‘whether he be worthy of love or hatred’;[6] but he that keeps up within him the spirit of penance, has every reason to hope that God loves him.

But the courageous observance of the Church’s precept of fasting and abstaining during Lent must be accompanied by those two other eminently good works, to which God so frequently urges us in the Scripture: prayer and almsdeeds. Just as under the term ‘fasting’ the Church comprises all kinds of mortification; so under the word ‘prayer’ she includes all those exercises of piety whereby the soul holds intercourse with her God. More frequent attendance at the services of the Church, assisting daily at Mass, spiritual reading, meditation upon eternal truths and the Passion, hearing sermons, and, above all, approaching the Sacraments of Penance and the holy Eucharist-these are the chief means whereby the faithful should offer to God the homage of prayer, during this holy season.

Almsdeeds comprise all the works of mercy to our neighbor, and are unanimously recommended by the holy doctors of the Church, as being the necessary complement of fasting and prayer during Lent. God has made it a law, to which He has graciously bound Himself, that charity shown towards our fellow-creatures, with the intention of pleasing our Creator, shall be rewarded as though it were done to Himself. How vividly this brings before us the reality and sacredness of the tie which He would have to exist between all men! Such, indeed, is its necessity, that our heavenly Father will not accept the love of any heart that refuses to show mercy: but, on the other hand, He accepts as genuine and as done to Himself the charity of every Christian, who, by a work of mercy shown to a fellow-man, is really acknowledging and honoring that sublime union which makes all men to be one family with God as its Father. Hence it is that almsdeeds, done with this intention, are not merely acts of human kindness, but are raised to the dignity of acts of religion, which have God for their direct object, and have the power of appeasing His divine justice.

Let us remember the counsel given by the Archangel Raphael to Tobias. He was on the point of taking leave of this holy family, and returning to heaven; and these were his words: ‘Prayer is good with fasting and alms, more than to lay up treasures of gold: for alms delivereth from death, and the same is that which purgeth away sins, and maketh to find mercy and life everlasting.’[7] Equally strong is the recommendation given to this virtue by the Book of Ecclesiasticus: ‘Water quencheth a flaming fire, and alms resisteth sins.’[8] And again: ‘Shut up alms in the heart of the poor, and it shall obtain help for thee against all evil.’[9] The Christian should keep these consoling promises ever before his mind, but more especially during, the season of Lent. The rich man should show the poor, whose whole year is a fast, that there is a time when even he has his self-imposed privations. The faithful observance of Lent naturally produces a saving; let that saving be given to Lazarus. Nothing, surely, could be more opposed to the spirit of this holy season, than keeping up a table as richly and delicately provided as at other periods of the year, when God permits us to use all the comforts compatible with the means He has given us. But how thoroughly Christian is it that, during these days of penance and charity, the life of the poor man should be made more comfortable, in proportion as that of the rich shares in the hardships and privations of his suffering brethren throughout the world! Poor and rich would then present themselves, with all the beauty of fraternal love upon them, at the divine Banquet of the Paschal feast, to which our risen Jesus will invite us after these forty days are over.

There is one means more whereby we are to secure to ourselves the great graces of Lent; it is the spirit of retirement and separation from the world. Our ordinary life, such as it is daring the rest of the year, should all be made to pay tribute to the holy season of penance; otherwise, the salutary impression produced on us by the holy ceremony of Ash Wednesday will soon be effaced. The Christian ought, therefore, to forbid himself, during Lent, all the vain amusements, entertainments, and parties, of the world he lives in. As regards theaters and balls, which are the <world> in the very height of its power to do harm, no one that calls himself a disciple of Christ should ever be present at them, unless necessity, or the position he holds in society, oblige him to it: but if, from his own free choice, he throws himself amidst such dangers during the present holy season of penance and recollection, he offers an insult to his character, and must needs cease to believe that he has sins to atone for, and a God to propitiate. The world (we mean that part of it which is Christian) has thrown off all those external indications of mourning and penance, which we read of as being so religiously observed in the ages of faith; let that pass; but there is one thing which can never change: God’s justice, and man’s obligation to appease that justice. The world may rebel as much as it will against the sentence, but the sentence is irrevocable: ‘Unless you do penance, you shall all perish.’[10] It is God’s own word. Say, if you will, that few nowadays give ear to it; but for that very reason many are lost. Those, too, who hear this word, must not forget the warnings given them by our divine Savior Himself, in the Gospel read to us on Sexagesima Sunday. He told us how some of the seed is trodden down by the passers- by, or eaten by the fowls of the air; how some falls on rocky soil, and is parched; and how, again, some is choked by thorns. Let us be wise, and spare no pains to become that good ground, which not only receives the divine seed, but brings forth a hundredfold for the Easter harvest which is at hand.

An unavoidable feeling will arise in the minds of some of our readers, as they peruse these pages, in which we have endeavored to embody the spirit of the Church, such as it is expressed, not only in the liturgy, but also in the decrees of Councils and in the writings of the holy fathers. The feeling we allude to is one of regret at not finding, during this period of the liturgical year, the touching and exquisite poetry, which gave such a charm to the forty days of our Christmas solemnity. First came Septuagesima, throwing its gloomy shade over those enchanting visions of the mystery of Bethlehem; and now we have come into a desert land, with thorns at every step, and no springs of water to refresh us. Let us not complain, however; holy Church knows our true wants, and is intent on supplying them. Neither must we be surprised at her insisting on a severer preparation for Easter, than for Christmas.

At Christmas, we were to approach our Jesus as an Infant; all she put us through then were the Advent exercises, for the mysteries of our Redemption were but beginning.

And of those who went to Jesus’ crib, there were many who, like the poor shepherds of Bethlehem, might be called simple, at least in this sense, that they did not sufficiently realize either the holiness of their Incarnate God or the misery and guilt of their own conscience. But now that this Son of the eternal God has entered the path of penance; now that we are about to see Him a victim to every humiliation, and suffering even a death upon a cross, the Church does not spare us; she rouses us from our ignorance and our self-satisfaction. She bids us strike our breasts, have compunction in our souls, mortify our bodies, because we are sinners. Our whole life ought to be one of penance; fervent souls are ever doing penance: could anything be more just or necessary, than that we should do some penance during these days, when our Jesus is fasting in the desert, and is to die on Calvary? There is a sentence of our Redeemer, which He spoke to the daughters of Jerusalem on the day of His Passion; let us apply it to ourselves: ‘If in the green wood they do these things, what shall be done in the dry?’[11] Oh, what a revelation is here! And yet, by the mercy of Jesus who speaks it, the dry wood may become the green, and so not be burned.

The Church hopes, nay, she is laboring with her whole energy, that, this may be; therefore, she bids us bear the yoke; she gives us a Lent. Let us only courageously tread the way of penance, and the light will gradually beam upon us. If we are now far off from our God by the sins that are upon us, this holy season will be to us what the saints call the purgative life, and will give us that purity which will enable us to see our Lord in the glory of His victory over death. If, on the contrary, we are already living the illuminative life; if during the three weeks of Septuagesima, we have bravely sounded the depth of our miseries, our Lent will give us a clearer view of Him who is our light, and if we acknowledged Him as our God when we saw Him as the Babe of Bethlehem, our soul’s eye will not fail to recognize Him in the divine Penitent of the desert, or in the bleeding Victim of Calvary.

ENDNOTES

1 Ps. cx. 10.

2 St. Matt. iv. 17.

3 St. Luke xiii. 3.

4 Rom. vi. 6.

5 Ecclus. v. 5.

6 Eccles. ix. 1.

Prayer

BY REV. A. DOOLAN, O.P

INDEX

It does seem presumptuous to write any more on Prayer, when so much has been written so well. An old sentence, however, seems to provide some excuse. It says that what cannot be known too well cannot be said too often.”Quod nunquam satis discitur, nunquam satis dicitur.” The teaching of Our Lord on prayer cannot be known too well, because on it salvation depends. “Pray and you will infallibly be saved, neglect to pray and. you will infallibly be lost.” That is the way St. Alphonsus puts the teaching of the Church, the mouthpiece of Our Lord, on the importance of prayer. St. Theresa had already said:”Once a soul perseveres in prayer, no matter what faults the devil may make her commit, I am sure that in the end Our Lord will guide her to the port of salvation.” But Catholics who have been instructed from childhood in the science and in the art of prayer, will know that the saints are merely proposing what is written in the Bible, both Old Testament and New. The texts are so familiar that we will not repeat them. They may be found in larger treatises. To recall them will be to know that in the Christian life there is nothing more necessary than Prayer.

WHAT IS PRAYER

What then, is prayer? There are people who do not like this question “what?” They are very gratified by the saying of Thomas á Kempis:”I had rather feel compunction than know its definition,” or of another mystic who says that it is no great thing to write learnedly about prayer, “but it were a great mastery for a man to practise it.”

And one may well excuse such impatience of definition in a soul that is taught by God the very art of prayer. What does it care to know that the root meaning of the word is “spoken reason,” that prayer is therefore the forth-telling of what is in the mind? It will leave it to the theologian-whose business it is to enrich faith by bringing it the treasures of philosophy-to explain that prayer is the voice of desire, that it is the mind expressing itself with a view to something’s being done, that it is in the nature of a command. Not indeed, admits the theologian, that a child presumes to command its parent when it makes its shy petition. But just as one addressing an inferior expresses one’s mind by way of command about What should be done, so, petitioning a superior, one expresses an order or arrangement, which one, suppliantly, wishes him to realize.

So, by a subtle analysis of mental activity, the theologian strives to assign the precise element in it that constitutes prayer.

.There are simple souls to whom this theological speculation is wearisome. It seems too far. removed from the infant’s lisping prayer:”Holy God, make me a good boy.” Prayer in its essence must be a very simple thing, something that even a child may use, and must. But the childlike things are the things most hard to explain. When we have understood the smile on the face of a child we may understand its prayer. St. Thomas Aquinas, who loved all childlike things, set himself to explain it, and in his effort had to scale the heights of philosophy, cold, arid, to most minds uninviting. If we, in these pages, be content to wander in the valley, eschewing the difficult ascents, but rejoicing in the abundant and varied food for thought that is at hand, let us be grateful to the everlasting heights that from them streams of living waters flow, be grateful, too, to those who have scaled the heights to release them.

We shall not, therefore, in these pages follow the philosophers and theologians in their ascent to the cold regions of psychology and metaphysics. We shall be content rather to accept the Catechism definition, which is based immediately on the teaching of St. Paul,, and we shall go on from it to see why we should pray, and what for, and to whom, and how.

PRAYER IS AN ELEVATION OF THE MIND TO GOD

Prayer, says the Catechism of Pope Pius X., is an elevation of the mind to God, to adore Him, to thank Him, and to ask

Him for all we need.

We shall consider each phrase of this definition.

First of all, then, prayer, is an elevation, a raising up. Does it seem too obvious to say that it is therefore something elevating? It raises up, not the body (except in very exceptional cases of mystical prayer) but the soul.”Is any of you sad?” asks St. James, “Let him pray!” Prayer lifts up the downcast heart and mind. That in itself were a great thing, surely. “Lift up your hearts” is the cry that bursts from the mighty heart of Rome, and re-echoes through the world from the morning watch till night wherever the Massis said. And the answer the Church expects from all her children is: “We have uplifted them to the Lord”-not merely to the mountains, or to the heavens above, or to thoughts of goodness and beauty, but to God Himself. Is God, then, so far from us, an objector may ask, that we must scale the heavens to reach Him? Surely not. God is in all lowly things: especially is He in the lowly heart. Therefore, says a mystic writer,”he that will wisely seek God and find Him, he must not run out with his thoughts, as, if he would climb above the sun and past the firmament, and imagine HisMajesty like to a hundred suns. But he must rather draw down the sun and all the firmament and forget it, and cast it beneath him where he is, and set all this and all bodily things also at nought, and then, if he can, think spiritually both of himself and of God also. And if he do thus, then seeth the soul above itself, then seeth it into heaven.”

Man by prayer lifts up his soul to God.

TO ADORE HIM

Prayer, therefore, is not in the towering thoughts of pride. It is based on humility. It comes when our thoughts are brought low, in face on the one hand with the nothingness out of which we and all things were made, and on the other with the Maker of all. In face of nothingness we must call out for something. Nothing repels: there is no heart of goodness in it that we should desire or love it. Only goodness is attractive. Only goodness can move and lift up the heart. If by prayer, therefore, the soul be lifted up to God, it is because He is attractive. The first appeal He makes is the appeal of goodness. He indeed is Goodness. He is good as no other thing is good; and without Him, it comes home to the prayerful soul, there is nothing good at all.”One is Good God.” In all things besides there is some darkness, some streak of nothingness. In Him there is no darkness. He is all Light, Joy, Love; Beauty. He is Good, adorably.

“The soul with that realization, hastens to efface itself in humble adoration. Moses, when the Lord passed before him “merciful and gracious, patient and of much compassion and love,” making haste, bowed down prostrate to the earth and adored.

Adoration is the first spontaneous offering made to God by any soul that touches Him. It belongs to prayer more properly even than petition or thanksgiving. Heaven, the Home of Prayer, is the home especially of Adoration. All the Angels of God adore Him. Isaias saw the Seraphim, upon the throne of God, high and elevated. And the prayer they said was:”Holy, Holy, Holy, the Lord God of Hosts, all the earth is full of His Glory.” St. John also beheld a throne in Heaven, and on the throne One sitting and around the throne the self-same prayer was said of praise and adoration. Mere petition would be out of place where God’s goodness is fully known. The Angels, and the ancients, and the living creatures of the Apocalypse, could utter only praise.

“They fell down before the throne upon their faces, and adored God saying: Amen. Benediction and glory and wisdom and thanksgiving, honour and power and strength to our God, for ever .and ever. Amen.”

TO THANK HIM

Some people will wonder that thanksgiving in prayer should come before petition. Thanksgiving, they will think, should be made when petitions have been granted.

That were to do God an injustice.” What have you,” asks St. Paul, “that you have not received?” Our very being is from Him; and the first upraising of our soul is surely the outcome of His Grace. As the soul, therefore, reaches God in thought and love, realizing its own dependence, bowing down in adoration, and uttering itself in praise, there will mingle with its praise the voice of thanksgiving.”What is man that Thou wouldst visit Him?” Of himself, nothing and good for nothing. If now he is anything; if he has aught to rejoice in, or any reason for hope, he owes it all, without any reserve, to God. There is no question of repaying the debt. A man cannot give more than his life: and his life is not his own to give. But this, at least, gratitude will urge on one who comes in prayer to realize God’s overflowing goodness: Give thanks, acknowledge that all. that you are, all that you have, all the goodness that surrounds you, is His free gift.

“Let us give thanks to the Lord our God, for it is meet and just.”

The prayer of thanksgiving is the first variation of the prayer of praise.

TO ASK HIM FOR ALL WE NEED

The Supreme Goodness that in prayer we adore and praise we also recognise, logically, as the. source of every good. The fairest things in Nature can be only the faintest reflex of God’s Beauty.”They are only Our Lady’s Mirror.” And she? Only Mirror of Justice! God alone is Beauty: other things have their beauty from Him. God is Goodness, and, because He is Goodness, He has made all things good. And He can make all things good-even me. How urgent, then, is the impulse of the soul, in presence of the source of all goodness to voice its desire for goodness, to express itself in petition as well as praise! Its very petition is praise. It is the soul’s protesting of its nothingness, its incapacity, its recognition that the source of its every hope is God. He is the Good of all things good.

THE NATURAL LAW OF PRAYER

Prayer, we may therefore say, is the adoration, thanksgiving or petition offered to God by a creature who has come to the knowledge of the truth that God means everything. It is based on the nature of things. An abyss of nothingness calls upon, an abyss of Being: a helpless thing links itself with the heights from which all help comes. Nothing more natural: nothing more befitting. Just then because prayer is based upon the very nature of the human soul, facing God, it comes within the reach of Natural Law. In other words, there would have been no need of a revelation to impress on man the duty, or to teach him the art, of prayer. Apart altogether from Our Lord’s teaching, apart from all question of Divine Grace, man would have been bound, knowing God as the fullness and source of Goodness, to praise Him and to thank Him for it. It would have been his duty to pray. Those pagans against whom St. Paul makes his great indictment were inexcusable”because that, when they knew God, they have not glorified Him as God or given thanks.”

They neglected the duty of prayer.

THE PRIVILEGE OF PRAYER

It follows, then, that prayer is the offering to God of something owing to Him as the Fullness and Source of Goodness. It would be an act of justice, if it were a full return. But to Him, from Whom, by Whom, unto Whom are all things no full return can be made. Not justice, therefore, but a nobler virtue called Religion prompts the giving of praise and thanksgiving and suppliant homage. It prompts it as something good and comely, something worthy of a man. Prayer, indeed, is not man’s duty merely, but his privilege, his prerogative. One does indeed speak at times of the stars in their humble service, or of the, flowers that fold their petals obedient to the call of evening, or of the birds at morning, as at prayer. But that is when poetry breathes into nature a finer spirit than nature has. Nature is less joyous than that. . It is not spiritual enough to reach God. Only the human soul breathes worship, utters praise. Not as if there were no voice in nature! The heavens declare the glory of God, all the earth is “garrulous” of Him. There is no blade of grass, nor grain of seed, nor any smaller thing that only the microscope reveals, but utters its appeal to man to think of God. But while the heavens and all the things of nature declare the glory of God, they cannot themselves give glory. It remains for man to make articulate the voice of praise. He is the Pontiff, divinely sealed, to offer always to God nature’s sacrifice of praise, “that is to say,” comments St. Paul, “the fruit of lips confessing to His Name.”

Prayer is man’s prerogative.

THE CHRISTIAN LAW OF PRAYER

Though prayer, apart altogether from the teaching of Faith, is a primary duty of man, in the light of that. teaching its character is immensely enhanced.

The faith that we practise as Catholics is founded in its entirety on the teaching of Jesus Christ. His teaching can be expanded into volumes, or it may be reduced to a very simple statement. He came to tell each one of us-blood, says Lacordaire, is the word at its highest power-that God is Adorably Good, that He is our Father, that we are His children. Whatever else Our Lord taught-the Mission of the Holy Ghost, the necessity of the Sacraments and of obedience to the Church, eternal reward and punishment, the Communion of Saints-is all in order that we may know and glorify our Father by showing ourselves His children, conformed to the image of His Divine Son. For instance, we must be baptised. Why? Because otherwise we should not be born again! But that were impossible, remonstrated Nicodemus; until Our Lord gently reminded him that he spoke of a supernatural life, of a regeneration that makes even old men childrenchildren, not of darkness any more, but of God’s Kingdom of light and love.”Know you what it is to be a child? It is to have a spirit yet streaming from the waters of baptism.” Again, Our Lord insists that we cannot have life in us unless we eat food from Heaven! Assuredly, because our life is more than earthly and, therefore, must be nourished on the Bread of Angels. Lastly, we recall the great command: “Love your enemies, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them that persecute. and calumniate you. For what motive?”That you may be children of your Father Who is in Heaven.”

“ As the Christian’s conversation is in heaven,” writes Cardinal Newman, “as it is his duty, with Enoch and other saints, “to walk with God,” so his voice also is in heaven. Prayers and praises are the mode of his intercourse with the next world, as the converse of business or recreation is the mode in which this world is carried on in all its separate courses. He who does not pray does not claim his citizenship with heaven, but lives, though an heir of the Kingdom, as if he were a child of earth.”

The child of God, then, is under a special obligation to pray. His conversation must be in Heaven, which is his home, though he be still on earth. A child of God may not be earthly-minded, not for a moment base or mean. His thoughts must be for his Father’s Glory, his heart upraised to his Father’s home.

Therefore, we ought always to pray, having our hearts and minds always lifted up to God.

A NEW CANTICLE

St. Augustine, in one of his sermons, comments on the words of the Psalmist,”Sing ye to the Lord a new canticle,” in a way that helps us to see more clearly why we, children of grace, are under a special obligation of prayer. We sing the praises, he says, of what we love; and we love only what we know. Now, it is our great privilege as children of God, sharers in Eternal Life, to know God as Father.”This is Eternal Life, to know Thee, the only true God, and Jesus Christ Whom Thou hast sent.” In the mere natural order, without grace or any special revelation, men would have known God in another way, and been obliged to hymn His glory and His praise. They would have known of His Eternal Power and His Divinity. They were inexcusable who did not glorify Him for that. But St. Paul does not blame them for not praying to God as Father. It was not given to them to use that sweet word.”You will have God for your Father when yox are new born,” says St. Augustine. The Gentiles had not yet that grace. They had not yet been given the spirit of children, which is called the Spirit of Grace and of Prayer. But we have! Therefore, the New Canticle is for us to sing. We have received the spirit of the adoption of sons, whereby we cry:”Abba, Father.”

Prayer, then, as we conceive it and as we should practise it, is, above all, this: The voice of a child calling upon its Father in Heaven in praise, in thanksgiving, in loving appeal.

OUR LORD “S EXAMPLE

New light is thrown on many familiar texts on prayer when they are considered in view of the truth that prayer is the voice of a child’s desire, to a Father whose love it knows. Our Lord’s teaching on prayer was, to the Jews, altogether new. His own practice of prayer appealed to them as something quite out of the ordinary. We can sense their wonderment in the way they put the question to Him once, after He had been pouring forth the desire of His own child heart to His Father: “Lord, teach us to pray!” They had not been accustomed to treat with God familiarly. They would hardly venture even to pronounce His Name.”The Lord is great and exceedingly to be feared.” They lived under a law of fear. The echoes of the thunders of Sinai when God spoke to Moses had not died away in the ears of the Jews, who marvelled at the child-like, loving way in which Christ spoke to God His Father.

The example of the actual prayers of Our Lord left us by the Evangelists are few enough. We know, of course, that His whole life was a prayer in the sense already explained. His whole heart’s desire, and all His thoughts, were fixed on His Father’s glory and how He might promote it. His soul was lifted up to God from the first moment of its existence, and was never once cast down, not even during the mystery of the Dereliction on Calvary, which only served to call forth words of intensest prayer. And one wonders whether in that hour, if Our Lord had not willed, for our instruction, to use the great words of the Psalmist:”My God, why hast Thou forsaken me,” He would not again have used the form of invocation most dear to Him and which He was to use again before He died, in His very last recorded prayer:”Father, into Thy hands I commend my spirit.” With that sweet word, “Father,” His prayer nearly always began: “Father, forgive them; Father, if it be possible let this chalice pass; Holy Father, keep them in Thy name whom Thou hast given me, that they may be one as we also are; Father, glorify Thy Son: glorify Thou me, O Father, with Thyself, with the glory which I had before the world was, with Thee; Father, save me from this hour; I confess to Thee, O Father, Lord of Heaven and earth. . . .”

It is always as a child that Our Blessed Lord opens in prayer His heart and mind, human as our own and as dependent. Only a saint could attempt to speak of the hours passed on the hillside when, in St. Luke’s significant words, He was spending the night in prayer. We shall not follow Him up the, slopes: the sanctities of that intercourse are not for us to know. But we shall await Him as He comes down from His prayer, and very lovingly ask Him, together with His disciples:”Lord, teach us to pray.”

OUR LORD “S TEACHING

“Thus, therefore, shall you pray: Our Father who art in heaven . . .”

It was Our Lord’s own prayer, which He now, with limitless condescension, asks us to join in.”The Son of God, Our

Lord Jesus Christ, hath taught us a Prayer. “ At the thought of it, St. Augustine, not able to contain himself, soars to the Mystery of Christ: “Though He be the Lord, Himself, the Only Son of God, yet He would not be alone . . . He hath vouchsafed to have brethren . . . Therefore hath He called into His brotherhood the peoples of the nations, and the Only Son hath numberless brethren who say, Our Father who art in heaven.”

Frequent repetition tends to dull our appreciation of the meaning, and sense of the beauty, of the Lord “s Prayer. Yet it is so weighted with meaning that Tertullian, one of the very early Christian writers, calls it a compendium of the whole Gospel. St. Augustine thinks it so complete that we may not ask for anything but what is written therein. And St. Thomas Aquinas sums up all the testimonies of the Fathers by calling it”oratio perfectissima”-an altogether perfect prayer.

We have here only to point to what is surely the keynote of the whole prayer-the invocation “Our Father.” If we really stand before God as children and realise what it means to have a Father in Heaven, we will instinctively make our prayer on the lines our Blessed Lord has traced. He did not teach us to say merely the Our Father. He said: “Thus shall you pray,” that is, in the attitude of a child. It was on this He insisted always. His instructions on prayer are linked always with His teaching of the Fatherhood of God. Our first thought on coming to pray must be that God is our Father. And as our Father seeth in secret, therefore we may pray, not in the temple only, but even in the privacy of our room. And we may be sure that our Father understands; and that, just because He is our Father, He cannot be deaf to the appeal of His children. “Which of you if he asks his father for bread will he give him a stone? or a fish, will he for a fish give him a serpent? or if he shall ask for an egg, will he reach him a scorpion? If you then, being evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in Heaven give the good Spirit to them that ask Him?”

Prayer, then, it is clear, from the example and teaching of Our Lord, is the call of a child to its Father in Heaven, And the baby language of a child is dear to a father’s heart. Even doctors and masters of the art of prayer like St. Gregory the Great have professed themselves to be “infantes balbutientes,” stammering babes, when they tried to utter God’s greatness and His praise. But God likes to hear the pleading of His child and its lisping voice proclaiming how good its Father is. He does not need to be told its thoughts or desires. He knows them perfectly. . Our Lord Himself has reminded us of that: “Your Father knoweth what is needful for you before you ask Him.” And yet He goes on to give, in His Father’s name, the great command and promise:”Ask and it shall be given you; seek and you shall find; knock and it shall be opened to you.”

But why, if our Father knows already our need and our desire?

WHY WE MUST PRAY

One might indeed imagine that faith and hope and love would be better shown towards God by a child whose very assurance of his Father’s goodness prevented him from asking anything at all than another who put forward his petition. Even saints have seemed to suggest that it may be more perfect not to ask for anything determinate from God, but to leave everything simply to Him to grant or deny as His love may determine. Yet the Gospel command, relentless, insistent, still rings out: Ask, seek, knock. And mingling with it St. James’s warning:”You have not because you ask not.”

“Therefore, brethren,” concludes St. Augustine, “ought we to exhort to prayer both ourselves and you. For other hope we have none amid the manifold evils of this present world, than to knock in prayer.”

But St. Augustine was not heedless of the objection already put: Why should I pray, if prayer is only the expression of my desire, and God already knows perfectly what I desire. He answers it very pithily:”It is God’s Will that thou shouldst pray that He may give to thy longings, that His gifts may not be lightly esteemed.” In another place, He adds the further reason”that thou mayest be forced to confess that He can do all things.” We have already seen that God is honoured by the protestation, implied in every prayer, of utter dependence and trust.

St. Augustine’s answer is put in the concrete by Fr. Vincent McNabb, O. P., in a beautiful story-which we have leave to reproduce. It is found in”The Path of Prayer,” and is given as an extract from the diary of an invalid soldier:

“My little grand-daughter, Hilda, aged three, paid me her usual visit this afternoon. I had prepared three chocolates against her coming. They were left, as by accident, on the table by the bed-head, but were strategically placed beyond her reach. This was a subtle plan of mine; which. proved as entirely successful as my first frostier embassy.

“She came; she saw; she was conquered. She came with her dear blue eyes, like a butterfly, into my room, where I was fatefully making up my mind whether my illness was to be the winter or the spring of my soul. Thank God, it is to be the spring.

“She saw the chocolates I had meant her to see. And she was conquered because the Creator had made her, the work of His love-to be conquered by such simple strategy as was the work of my love. . . .

“O my God, I can now pray. My little grand-daughter has taught me, but a few hours ago; not by praying to you, her Father in Heaven, but by praying to me her grandfather on earth.

“I cannot say I do not love my little grand-child. And there are a thousand things I have given her without her asking- the blue frock that made her sister to the butterflies; the silk ribbon in her hair; the silver rosary round her neck. But yet I love to give other things to her only on her asking. Thou knowest why!

“How lovely were her blue eyes and the curves of her mouth, and her uplifted head!-O Maker of her eyes, and mouth and head!-how lovely was my little butterfly as she besought me to raise her to the bedside whence she could reach the chocolate that I meant her to reach. Thou knowest, O my Master !”

God treats us as a father treats his children. If He asks us to pray, it is because He loves us. He knows that prayer brings out all that is best in us. It raises us beyond ourselves; it lifts us up to Beauty; it makes us appear, and be, like God’s Divine Son. And therefore it makes us happy. It is, in that sense, an end in itself, and requires no other justification. See a saint at prayer, and. you will ask no reason why !

HOW WE SHOULD PRAY

To the question”How should we pray?,” one Catechism answer is: We should pray with attention, devotion, humility, confidence and perseverance. The Catechism clearly supposes faith, without which there is no prayer at all.”Lex credendi est lex orandi”: The law of belief is the law of prayer. The Catechism of Pope Pius X also mentions resignation as a condition of perfect prayer.

But all that Catechisms say can be summed up in one word. And it will surely suggest itself to those who have followed this exposition. We should pray in the spirit of a child of God. It is such a simple answer St. Paul would give. He would be almost impatient, we venture to think, of any further elaboration. Love God, he would say, and pray as you like. A child of God, one who walks in the spirit of childlike love, will pray rightly without thinking .of it.”I do as a child would who cannot read,” confesses the Little Flower almost apologetically. “I just say what I want to say to God quite simply and He never fails to understand.”

Nevertheless, it may be helpful to consider in more detail how a child of God should pray, and for what.

MENTAL AND BODILY PRAYER

Prayer, it has been said, voices the, desire of a child of God. In one sense its whole life is a prayer, in that its longing for its Father’s home and His Glory is expressed in all its actions.”If thou art ever longing,” says St. Augustine, “thou art ever praying. When sleepeth prayer? When desire grows cold.” Hence the command is given to us: “Pray without ceasing.” But though desire prays always, even while the tongue is silent, there are times when the very “greatness of desire impels the body also to enter into prayer, by expressing it in word and song, in prostration and genuflection. Hence the division of prayer into mental, when heart and mind commune with God without expressing themselves outwardly, and bodily, or, as it is more commonly viewed, vocal prayer, which finds words to express the soul’s desire. It is the natural overflow of mental prayer, while it also, even philosophers point out, helps to fix thought and inflame desire.

What then should be the desire that prayer would have fulfilled, this desire of the heart of a child, breathed before .God its Father?

WHAT WE SHOULD PRAY FOR

To the question now raised, we must seek for an answer high above all creation. The desire of a child of God is not bounded by what can be measured or spoken.”As the part panteth after the fountain of water; so my soul panteth after Thee, O God.” Desire is the offspring of love, and reaches even as high. The love of a child of God manifests itself in desire that this Father’s Will be done. That desire will embrace every other desire. The petition”Thy Will be done” will qualify every prayer. There is nothing more lovable, more adorable, more desirable than Our Father’s Will, even when it seems most full of dread.”My Father, if it be possible, let this chalice pass from me. Nevertheless, not as I will but as Thou wilt.” So our Eldest Brother has given us an example. He had no other aim coming into this world than to do His Father’s Will. He had in life no other desire. To know what we should pray for, therefore, will be to know what is the Will of God our Father, for creation in general and for us in particular.

OUR FATHER “S WILL

“If any man deny that the world was created for God’s glory let him be anathema.” In this way the Vatican Council defines a truth at once declared in Sacred Scripture and proved in philosophy. God’s glory is the end of creation. It is the supreme object of the Divine Will. Creation, says St. Thomas, is the voice of the Word of God; and all creatures are a chorus repeating in harmony the same Word that He in Heaven chants eternally. The Word, the Second Person of the Blessed Trinity, is the perfect expression of His Father’s Glory. He is called, in mystic language; the Song of Perfect Praise. To echo that praise the world was made. It was established by, and in the image of, the Word of God. The Divine Will impressed on it is that it reflect, and always more perfectly, His praise. That is the first duty, the divine office, of all creation

“Praise ye the Lord from the heavens; praise ye Him in the high places.

Praise ye Him all ye angels; praise ye Him all His hosts.

Praise ye Him, O sun and moon, praise ye Him all ye stars and light.

Praise Him ye heaven of heavens: and let all the waters that are above the heavens praise the name of the Lord. For He spoke and they were made.

Praise the Lord from the earth, ye dragons and all ye Word.”

Fire, hail, snow, ice, stormy winds, which fulfil His deeps.

Everything, even in inanimate nature, is ordered to the praise of God; it fulfils His Word. But only men can fulfil it freely, and in recognition of its Goodness and Truth. A book without a reader, a voice without a hearer, above all, an altar without a priest, is the description of the world with man left out. He only can render glory as St. Augustine defines it: “Clear knowledge together with praise.”

The great object, therefore, of Our Father’s Will is that He be glorified. Let no one imagine, thinking God”man’s giant shadow hailed divine,” that this means egoism on His part. God is not benefited or enriched by His creation. But, on the other hand, to glorify Him is His creature’s perfection and happiness. And, therefore, God, in His loving goodness gave man the power to glorify Him on earth even as, by His Divine Son, He was glorified in heaven. He gave to Adam the grace of sonship, formed in him the heart of a child, that he might pour it forth in love and praise.

Adam refused this Divine Office. He made the fateful choice: I will not serve. And grace was taken from him and from human nature.

. “Disproportioned sin

Jarred against nature’s chime, and with harsh din

Broke the fair music that all creatures made

To their Great Lord, whose love their motion swayed

In perfect diapason.”

The sacrifices that fallen man could offer fell infinitely short of what God looked for from a race which He had made divine.”Shall I eat of the flesh of bullocks or shall I drink the blood of goats? Offer to the Lord the sacrifice of praise. The sacrifice of praise will glorify Me.” But the dead do not give praise, O Lord! The human race was dead in sin. Creation was dumb to the pleading of a Father’s heart to hear the voice of his children. Men’s iniquity had divided between them and their Father.

“Then, said I: Behold I come, to do Thy Will, O God.” -to give Thee the glory that only a child can give. . . . . .”And the Word was made flesh and dwelt amongst us. And we saw His glory . . .”

The object of prayer, therefore, must be above all that God our Father may be glorified; that the Kingdom of Christ, His Glory, may increase upon the earth.”Our Father who art in heaven, hallowed be Thy Name, thy Kingdom come, thy Will be done-on earth as it is in heaven.”

THROUGH JESUS CHRIST OUR LORD

The first object of prayer is God’s Glory: its first petition that His Name be praised. Now, this glory and praise can only be rendered through Jesus Christ Our Lord. We cannot raise our mind and heart to God our Father but by Him:”No one cometh to the Father but by Me.” Through Him, with Him, in Him, is all glory given, repeats the Church each day at Mass.

Prayer, then, if it is to be what we have called it, the voice of a child raised to its Father in heaven in praise, in thanksgiving, in appeal, must be made through Jesus Christ Our Lord.”By Him, says St. Paul, let us offer the sacrifice of praise always to God.”

ONE WITH CHRIST

This is the truth that explains Christianity: Jesus Christ, the only begotten Son of God, really lives in the members of the Church. There is no truth besides this to explain the mystery of prayer. It will repay consideration.

To live in the souls of men Christ was born:”That they may have life and may have it. more abundantly.” He died (how often do we say it unthinkingly!) that we might live. From His pierced side there flowed water and blood, symbolic, say the Fathers, of the two great life-giving Sacraments, Baptism and the Eucharist. We come to life, therefore, that is, to the life of children of God, which means union with His Divine Son, only through Death. Christ had to be lifted up in deathly loveliness that He. might attract us to the love that is our real life.”We are baptised in His death,” says St. Paul. Plunged into the baptismal font, according to the ancient ritual, as into a tomb, the Christian is born out of it in newness of life.

We may note here how in baptism we associate ourselves with Christ as Priest, and with His Sacrifice. God was never glorified as He was by His Divine Son on Calvary. The Cross is His Glory: ours, therefore, remarks St. Paul. The day in the year that we signalise as Good is the day of Christ’s Sacrifice. And its renewal each day at Mass is still, by far, the greatest and most perfect prayer. Now when, through Baptism, we become one with Christ in supernatural life, we also become sharers in His Priesthood. The baptismal character, we say it on the authority of the Church, is nothing else than a certain participation in the priesthood of Christ. Hence the catechumens, who had not yet received it, were excluded from offering the sacrifice of the Mass. It is in virtue of the baptismal character that we can glorify our Father in Heaven: we can render Him the Divine Service that is His due: we can offer Him the praise that from the creation of the world His Father’s heart longed to hear rising to Him from the earth. We offer it by our sacrifice and by our prayer, which is not our own but His of Whose Mystic Body we now are members. Thanks to the Death of Christ we can render what sin had made impossible-the Divine Office of Prayer.

LITURGICAL PRAYER

While, therefore, every prayer must be made “through Jesus Christ our Lord,” Whom alone the Father hears, there is one prayer which is by special title His. We call it liturgical prayer, or the Church’s prayer. Now the Church is Christ.

This last statement is not a rhetorical exaggeration. It is Gospel truth. Christ is still on earth, continuing, above all by sacrifice and prayer, His work of saving the world. This is the mystery of which St. Paul especially was made the minister. “Saul, Saul, why persecutest thou Me? Who art Thou, Lord”? I am Jesus, whom thou persecutest.” Christ ascended into heaven, only that He might exercise in fullest measure the rights He had by suffering acquired over His Mystical Body which is the Church. The Church is called with equal reason the Body of Christ or the Family of God, under which aspect we have already considered it.

The Son of God became Man that He might glorify His Father’s Name. Only through Him, we have seen, could glory be given. And as God’s glory is the end of all creation, it was not fitting that after a few years (after the year 30 A.D.) it should cease to be rendered. The loving Wisdom of Christ found a way of fulfilling on earth the work of God even when He should have ascended into heaven. He would share with others His Life, His Love, His Power to glorify the Father. Jew and Gentile, Sythian and Greek, Celt and Saxon, people of every nation, tribe and tongue, He would draw into the unity of one Mystic Body, quickened by His Spirit. That Body is called the Church: that Spirit, the Spirit of grace and of prayer.

What the Church does, Christ does. And what Christ did the Church still does. She preaches, She teaches, She works, She suffers. Above all, She offers sacrifice and prayer. The Sacrifice is the Mass: the prayer is the Divine Office.

If you would learn how to pray, go and hear the Church at prayer. The Church praying is Christ praying. Those whose privilege it is to fulfil the Divine Office He came on earth to render, do it in His name. It is Christ who offers the Sacrifice of the Mass; and if we say that the Divine Office is the Church’s offering-Her sacrifice made as it were to applaud and to fill out through the hours of the day His morning Sacrifice-then we must say that as the Church makes His Sacrifice Hers, so does He make Hers His own.

In the Divine Office there is offered to God the homage of a child, praising, thanking, appealing, in words inspired by the Spirit of a child: in the Mass there is offered in boundless return to a Father’s outraged Justice, a Child’s Pierced Heart.

THE PARTICULAR ENDS OF PRAYER

Speaking of the Mass, the Catechism says that it is offered”to give God honour and glory, to thank Him for His benefits, to obtain remission of our sins, and all other graces and blessings.” To speak comprehensively, the Mass is offered as an act of perfect sacrifice and surrender to God’s Will. It is the final expression and complete realisation of the desire Our Lord had in coming into this world”to do Thy Will, O God.” This too must be (in how much smaller measure?) the object of all our prayers. “The primary motive of prayer,” wrote Cardinal Gibbons, “is to acknowledge our filial dependence on God and His Fatherly care of us.” And the second object of prayer, Christian courtesy requires, is to thank Him for it.

To obtain favours, therefore, is not to be regarded as the chief object of prayer. But “ it is a necessary object. Prayer .does not consist, as some heretics have said, in a mere spirit of resignation to, and acquiescence in God””s Will, a spirit so passive as to inhibit any expression of particular desire, any call for help. The obligation of prayer is put upon us, by Natural Law and by God’s express command, not merely that we may pay God due homage, but that we may cooperate with Him in the working out of our soul’s salvation .and the salvation of the world. Prayer must be made, or we shall certainly be lost; and if the world is to be saved it must be saved above all by prayer.

Should we then, in prayer, confine our petitions to a general plea for our own and the world “s salvation? Or may we follow (as our hearts would love to) the example .of the Irish Mother putting”trimmins” on the Rosary”:

“She would pray for all our little needs

And every shade of care

That might darken on the Sugarloaf

She’d meet it with a prayer.

She would pray for this one’s sore complaint

Or that one’s “hurted hand,”

Or that someone else might make a deal

And get that bit of land

Or that Dad might sell the cattle well

And seasons good might rule

Or that little John, the weakly one,

Might go away to school.

There were trimmin’s too that came and went

But ne’er she closed without

Adding one for something special

“None of you must know about”.”

We are surely glad that St. Thomas’s great authority sanctions and commends that way of prayer so dear to Irish hearts. May the Rosary and its trimmings sanctify for ever our Irish homes! There are cold heretics who would merely allow general petitions to be presented before God’s Majesty signifying a suppliant’s desire that His Will be done, and that all things may happen in what manner pleases Him best. And even some Catholic writers, stressing rightly the importance of utter conformity to God’s Sweet Will, perhaps emphasise too much their teaching on”holy indifference.” God does not want us to be wholly, indifferent. He does not even want us to will explicitly the particular thing that He in fact intends. He does not, for instance, require that a mother should will the death of her only son, though He may intend that her son shall die. He expects only resignation and whole-hearted submission to the arrangement of His greater love. But He is always a Father who understands and who sympathises with His child in whatever sorrow, or longing, or anxiety, or fear, or love that may possess, or strive to possess, its heart. And He is eager that His child should confide to Him its longing, tell Him its love, even its dislike, be open about its anxiety and ask His help. He wishes His child to ask Him for whatever it thinks it needs most of all here and now. And more than often. He grants exactly what it asks.

“Dad did sell the cattle well

And little John her pride

Was he who said the Mass in black

The morning that she died;

So her gentle spirit triumphed—For”twas this without a doubt

Was the very special trimmin”

That she kept so dark about.”

Any Catholic can furnish from his own life story unnumbered examples of marvellous answer to prayer; and those who need it can find in the lives of the saints detailed evidence that Our Lord has kept His almost incredible word:”Amen, I say to you that whosoever shall say to this mountain, Be thou removed and cast into the sea, and shall not stagger in his heart’but believe, that whatsoever he sayeth shall be done; it shall be done unto him. Therefore, I say unto you, all things whatsoever you ask when ye pray, believe that ye shall receive; and they shall come unto you.”

Prayer, then, should be made always in the spirit of a child, which is the spirit of Christ, first to glorify God our Father by rendering to Him our homage in testifying our dependence; secondly, to, thank Him for His Goodness in allowing us to call ourselves His children; thirdly, to beg of Him the graces and benefits that we, in view of our supernatural destiny, should, or may, desire.

UNANSWERED PRAYER

Prayer so made is always answered. If we use the term”unanswered prayer,” it must be taken in a strictly relative sense. The prayer that is inspired by childlike faith and love receives its answer as soon as it is said. If it be said, as every true prayer is said, with the aim of giving God glory and promoting on earth His Kingdom of Peace, its fulfilment marks its saying. If it be a child’s loving call to a Father’s heart to visit it with Mercy and Pardon, again it is heard at once.”The petition ascends: the mercy of God descends,” to use a sentence attributed to St. Augustine. If it be for anything whatsoever conducive to Eternal Life (the one thing upon which his heart is set who values his divine sonship above every good) it is infallibly efficacious to obtain it. If, therefore, prayer is said to be unanswered it is either because, it was not made in the right spirit or, if it were, because it asked for something that our Father’s love could not allow. In that case, He will give instead what is really good for us. It follows that petitions for temporal favours, for things like health and riches and worldly success, which are not necessarily helpful in our struggle for Eternal Life, should be made only on the condition that God sees them to be a help for us and not a hindrance.” But petitions offered for spiritual gifts, for grace to resist temptation and to advance in God’s love, for the grace of a happy death, for the extension upon earth of God’s Kingdom of Love and Peace, these must be made as they are made in the”Our Father” and “Hail Mary,” unconditionally.

May we note here, to illustrate the difference between the way in which prayer is made to the Saints and to God, that in the”Hail Mary” we ask Our Lady to intercede for us, while we pray to God in the “Our Father” as the first source of every grace.

THE EFFECTS OF PRAYER

“The effect of prayer,” says St. Thomas, “is threefold. The first is an effect which is common to all acts, quickened by charity, and this is merit. . . . The second effect of prayer is proper thereto, and consists in impetration. . . . The third effect of prayer is that which it produces at once; this is the spiritual refreshment of the mind.” The Saint is speaking, of course, of real prayer, such as we have been considering. A mere formula of prayer said inattentively and without heart is less than valueless. There is prayer only where there is devotion, that is to say, the will to pay God honour. And that implies humility.

It is important here to distinguish the twofold efficacy of prayer in respect of a future effect-merit and impetration. Merit rests on justice. An act of divine love merits a return of Divine, Eternal Love. That is why every act that proceeds from love, as prayer should, which voices the desire of the love that is poured forth by the Holy Spirit in the hearts of God’s children, merits Eternal Life. But neither prayer, nor any other good action, St. Thomas notes, is meritorious without sanctifying grace. This helps us better to realise the difference between what prayer can strictly merit, or lay claim to in justice, and what it can effect by way of impetration. Impetration rests, not on justice, but on mercy. A sinner can merit nothing; but his prayer, by God’s mercy, will still be heard.”The sinner also shall cry, and his prayer shall reach to God.” Again, no one, not the greatest saint on earth, can lay claim in strict justice to the grace of a happy death. But all can ensure it, infallibly, by devout and persevering prayer.

What then, to conclude, are the conditions of prayer that it may infallibly obtain what it asks? To know them will be to have our doubts resolved as to why sometimes our prayer has not been heard. First, then, the only prayer that we can be absolutely certain will obtain the particular grace it asks is the prayer we make for ourselves.”If you ask the Father anything in My name He will give it to you,” was the promise of Our Lord. At the same time, it is entirely in keeping with God’s mercy and liberality that He hear the petition of His children made in the interests of others. But He has not pledged Himself to that.

Secondly, prayer, to be infallible in obtaining what it asks must be for supernatural favours, for something that will make us, or at least help to make us, happy, not for a moment merely but for eternity.

Thirdly, it must be made devoutly. Otherwise, as we have said, it would not be prayer at all.

Lastly, it must be persevering.”Pray without ceasing.” “Be instant in prayer.” “Blessed is the man that watcheth daily at my gates.” The Scriptures and the writings of the Saints, are full of admonitions stressing the importance of persevering prayer. Ask, seek, knock-and keep on knocking.

We shall finish with the teaching of St. James:”The reason why sometimes you have asked and have not received is because you have asked amiss.” St. Basil is more explicit:”It is because you have asked inconstantly, or lightly, or what was not good for you-or you have ceased asking.”

May this little treatise on Prayer help at least one soul to find the Key that unlocks the Treasure-house of Peace.

Permissu Superiorum, O.P.

Nihil Obstat:

Michael Canonicus Cronin, S.T.D., Censor theol. Deput.

Imprimi Potest:

@ Eduardus,

Archiep. Dublinen. Hiberniae Primas

20/7/1930

********

Prayer And The Sacraments

INDEX

THE SACRAMENTS HAVE BEEN INSTITUTED BY JESUS CHRIST FOR THE SANCTIFICATION OF OUR SOULS. WE KNOW THAT IN CERTAIN CASES THEY CAN GIVE GRACE WITHOUT ANY ACTIVE CO-OPERATION ON THE PART OF THE RECIPIENTS, AS WHEN AN INFANT IS BAPTIZED, OR AN UNCONSCIOUS MAN RECEIVES THE SACRAMENT OF LAST ANOINTING. BUT, ORDINARILY, GOD’S ACTION IN OUR SOULS PRE- SUPPOSES CORRESPONDING ACTIVITY ON OUR PART. OUR MINDS AND WILLS MUST BE USED IN ORDER TO EXCITE IN US SUITABLE DISPOSITIONS FOR THE RECEPTION OF THE SACRAMENTS. IN PRACTICE, THEREFORE, IF WE ARE TO BENEFIT BY THE SACRAMENTS WE MUST KNOW HOW TO PRAY, AND MUST TRY TO PRAY WELL. PRAYER IS A NECESSARY PREPARATION FOR THE SACRAMENTS, AND THESE IN TURN, BY UNITING US WITH GOD, DISPOSE US FOR PRAYER. PRAYER AND THE SACRAMENTS ARE BOTH SOURCES OF GRACE, AND HENCE ARE VERY CLOSELY CONNECTED.

Prayer, in a narrower sense in which the term is often employed, means asking God for those good things which we need. In this sense, ―to pray‖ is synonymous with ―to pray for.‖ Prayer of this kind is of great importance, because it is only from God that we can get the grace and help we need to live good lives. But there is a wider and fuller sense in which the term prayer is used, namely, the rising of the mind to God. In this sense, prayer includes not only petition, but also adoration, praise, thanksgiving, and every act by which we are brought into conscious union with God for His honour and our own good. It is in this wider sense that we will now consider prayer.

THE OBLIGATION OF PRAYER

It would be difficult to exaggerate the importance of prayer, so much does the success of our spiritual life, and therefore of our life in general, depend upon it. It will help to bring home its importance if we reflect upon these three points; (1) prayer is a duty, (2) it is a necessity, and (3) it is a great source of happiness. Prayer is a duty, and one of our chief duties in life. Whatever we neglect, we must not neglect prayer. We owe our existence to God-we came into existence through His power, and we are kept in existence through the same power. If God ceased to think of us or to exercise His omnipotence in our regard, for a single instant, we should cease to exist. Our souls and bodies, and their faculties, material good things and natural happiness, grace and the supernatural life, our faith and the blessings we have in the true Church, eternal life with God and the happiness that will mean-all these we owe to the goodness of God. We are, therefore, under a debt of love and gratitude to God far greater than any debt we could owe to a fellow creature. No tie between parents and children, husband and wife, brothers and sisters, friend and friend, could be so close as the tie between each one of us and God. This tie is real, though we may not always be conscious of it. In prayer we give it conscious acknowledgement, we learn to appreciate it better, and we endeavour to meet the obligations which it imposes.

PRAYER IS A NECESSITY

Prayer is not merely a duty which we are bound in conscience to perform; it is, moreover, a necessity of life. St. John Chrysostom says that prayer is to the soul what nerves are to the body, ramparts to a city, arms to a soldier, wings to a bird, breath to a living being. We cannot live without air and food and sleep; it is just as impossible for our supernatural life to continue without prayer. By prayer we become united with God, and obtain the supernatural help without which we cannot long resist the attacks of evil, or accomplish any supernatural good work. Prayer nourishes the supernatural virtues in our souls. Without prayer, faith, hope, and charity, and all the other virtues become weak, just as in time of drought vegetation gradually withers and dies. It is all the more necessary for us to realise the necessity of prayer, because we can suffer from spiritual starvation without noticing it. If we neglect to take bodily food we feel hungry, and continued abstinence from food makes us weak and unable to work. But if we abstain from spiritual food, the serious consequences are not brought home to us in the same way, and we may starve ourselves without knowing it. Prayer, therefore, is a necessity for spiritual health and strength; and if we want to grow stronger spiritually, we must nourish ourselves more with prayer and the sacraments. There is no other way.

PRAYER IS A SOURCE OF HAPPINESS

What we recognise as a duty and a necessity we may indeed perform conscientiously, but without much enthusiasm. But prayer is far from being merely a duty and a necessity. It is at the same time a source of genuine happiness. The reason for this is not difficult to understand. Happiness comes from the possession of what is true, good, and beautiful. But in God we have truth itself, goodness itself, and beauty itself. Everything in this world that is good or beautiful is so because it comes from God and bears some traces of its origin. But nothing in this world possesses enough goodness or beauty to satisfy our hearts completely; only in God shall we find all that for which our hearts crave. Prayer helps us to know God better and love Him more, and thus brings to the human heart what it needs to make it happy.

Our life is happy if we have a clear understanding of its meaning and purpose, if we have the courage to endure the painful things it brings, and if we have strength to overcome the difficulties we meet with. In prayer we learn to know the mind of God, and understand His plans in our lives; we find in His love and providence abundant motives for patience and resignation in all that befalls us; and in prayer we receive a divine strength which enables us to fight against all our enemies and pass safely through all dangers. Through intimacy with God we come to see things as He sees them, and our wills are brought into conformity with His. This union of mind and will with God is the goal for which we were created, and the perfection of our human nature. The more we approach it the greater is our sense of well-being, and the greater our happiness. Prayer is often hard, but we can draw courage from the knowledge that perseverance in prayer will lead us along the road to true peace, success and happiness. It is especially necessary for young people beginning life to realise the imports of prayer. They are full of plans, hopes, and expectations for the future. But no real success can come to them in life unless they have God with them, and His love and His law are guiding them. Familiarity with Him, which can only come through prayer, will be their greatest asset.

HOW AM I TO PRAY?

Let us suppose now that we are convinced of the obligation and necessity of prayer, and the immense benefit it is to us. But the difficulty of prayer is in practice. How are we to pray? One compendious answer is: Pray anyhow: provided you do it. We learn how to pray chiefly by praying, and no amount of talking about prayer will take place of actual prayer; just as we can never learn to swim no matter how much instruction we get, unless we go into the water.

No Catholic is altogether unskilled in the art of prayer. From our earliest years we have been taught to pray, and prayer does occupy a prominent place in the life of every practical Catholic. We have our morning and evening prayers, Sunday Mass, preparation for and thanksgiving after reception of the sacraments, and other prayers from time to time. If we want to learn how to pray better we can begin with the prayer that already forms part of our lives. Morning and evening prayers are important. It is important to be regular at them, and it is even more important to make sure that they are real prayers. One reason why people are sometimes irregular at their daily prayers is that their prayers are little more than mechanical recitation, so that they find little profit in them. To try to say our prayers well makes them, on the whole, easier to say. Later on some practical advice will be given about how to improve the quality of our prayers. Let us be content here with resolving to say our ordinary prayers regularly, and with as much attention as possible. Short prayers well said are better than long prayers carelessly said.

MORNING AND EVENING PRAYERS

Sometimes it happens that people are in such a hurry in the early morning that their prayers almost inevitably suffer. A busy mother of a family, or a man or a girl who has set out for work very early, may not be able to get the time and quiet that are necessary for good morning prayers. Would it not be better, in such a case, for them to reduce their morning prayers to a very small amount- say, the sign of the Cross, the Our Father, Hail Mary, and the Morning Offering- but make them real prayer; and then, later in the day, when the housework is done, or a break comes in the day’s routine, to give a few minutes to God to make up for the want of time in the morning? A lot of people are suffering spiritually because circumstances make prayer in the early morning very difficult, and it does not occur to them that they can supply for this later in the day. Morning prayers are excellent; it is natural to begin the day with prayer. But it is a great mistake to think that prayers must be said in the morning or not at all. There is no precept of God or of the Church binding us to pray either in the morning or the evening. But we are bound to pray, and to pray frequently. So we see that the very insistence on the importance of morning and evening prayers may have an opposite effect to that intended, and may lead even to neglect of prayer.

If people are going out to an entertainment in the evening, or to a card-party, a dance, or something like that, we can be pretty sure that, if they come home very late, their night prayers are likely to suffer. Why should they not anticipate this, and say their prayers before they go out, and then a very brief prayer will suffice before they go to bed? The time we say our prayers is much less important than the fact of saying them.

PRAYER DURING THE DAY

The true Catholic will try to keep in touch with God by short prayers during the course of the day. The Angelus, I am afraid, is not so well established among us as in other parts of the Catholic world. Even the sound of the church bells ringing the Angelus is not so familiar here. But this old Catholic custom of recalling the great mystery of the Incarnation three times a day, and going through, in dramatic fashion, the Gospel scene, while we repeat the words of the Angel and Our Blessed Lady, is of great value in keeping us in touch with the supernatural, showing us our life in the light of the Incarnation. Then we have grace before and after meals. It can be neglected altogether, it can be said carelessly, without any raising of the mind and heart to God, and it can be a real prayer. Why should we not say grace regularly and prayerfully ? It will mean that there is more prayer in our lives with little trouble to ourselves. Even the sign of the Cross, made thoughtfully, can help to sanctify our days. We should not be ashamed of the sign of the Cross. St. Cyril of Jerusalem wrote, in the early centuries of Christianity:―Let not shame prevent us from confessing our allegiance to the Crucified; let the fingers boldly trace upon the forehead the sign of the Cross, as a distinguishing mark, and this on all occasions-when we eat and when we drink, on coming in and going out, before we sleep, as we fall asleep, and on rising from sleep, when we walk and when we are at rest.‖ (Cateches. xiii) Nowadays, when the enemies of Christ Our Lord are so open in their hostility, it is not right that His followers should be ashamed of His Cross, any more than a soldier should be ashamed of his uniform. The world needs true religion; but we are inclined to keep ours too much to ourselves. Would it not be for the honour of God and do immense good if every Catholic, were to make the sign of the Cross openly and reverently, if unostentatiously, before and after meals, whether at home, with friends, or in public? We talk of Catholic Action. Here is a small thing, practical for all, that might have a great effect.

We have, therefore, already in our daily lives opportunities for practising the art of prayer. For those who wish to develop the spirit and practise of prayer to a greater degree and make it play a more important part in their lives, the following different methods are suggested. We learn to pray by praying, so the employment of methods such as these is the way to make ourselves proficient in prayer.

WAYS OF PRAYING

1. Adoration. One of our primary duties is to adore God, simply because He is God; because He is the one absolutely perfect Being, without any dependence on anyone or anything, and the source of everything that exists outside Himself. Any beauty or goodness we find inthe world has its ultimate source in God’s infinite goodness and beauty. Adoration is the act by which we acknowledge God’s unique position as Creator and

Supreme Being, and it is an excellent form of prayer. In it we humble ourselves in our littleness before the infinite greatness of God. We acknowledge that we are nothing of ourselves, because all that we have or are comes from

God. We praise and worship the incomprehensible goodness, beauty, wisdom, and power of God. No words are necessary; but a bowingdown of our spirit in the presence of our Creator. ―My God and my All.‖ As a Kempis says, that thought is sufficient for one who understands.

One great advantage of this prayer of adoration is that it at once puts us in our proper position as creatures, before God, and fills us with the spirit which it is most necessary for a creature to have. Even in our prayers we are too inclined to think of ourselves, and perhaps to regard God as a Being Who exists merely to look after our welfare and comfort. We wantmore of the spirit of Our Blessed Lady: ―My soul magnifies the Lord; it is in God I have rejoiced; holy is His Name.‖

When adoring God we should, of course, unite ourselves with Christ, our Saviour, in His adoration, and with His perfect sacrifice, which is continually being offered up all over the world. Any time we give ourselves to prayer we can recall that at that moment, somewhere, the great Sacrifice of the Mass is being offered up as the supreme act of adoration, that it is the offering of the Church, of which God in His goodness has made us members, and that in every Mass we are included when the priest prayers ―for all faithful Christians.‖

2. Thanksgiving. Another way in which we can profitably pray is by thanking God for all He is to us and all He has done for us. As a rule, we do not thank God enough. There are many who will pray earnestly enough when they are asking a favour of God, but who are very slow to return thanks. Ten lepers were cured, but only one came back to give thanks (and Our Lord noticed the absence of the other nine). Let us think of all the benefits we have received from God. Have we thanked Him for even one in ten of His gifts? He has created us, He came on earth and redeemed us, He left us the Church, gave us the true faith, the Blessed Eucharist and the other sacraments, and is preparing a place for us in His own home. Then there are so many personal graces and favours bestowed on us in the course of life. Such wonderful gifts should excite gratitude and make us eager to give thanks as best we can. We can pray, then, in a way that will be very pleasing to God, and very useful to ourselves, by thanking God for some particular grace or mark of his love, or for all the gifts which we have received from Him, not forgetting those which are hidden from us, and those which we sometimes fail to recognise as gifts, such as crosses and sufferings.

3. Sorrow. We have all to acknowledge that we are sinners. We have offended God more frequently and grievously than we can well realise. It is, of course, sufficient, in order to obtain forgiveness, that we should be truly sorry for these sins once. But when we remember God’s infinite love for us, and our own great ingratitude, it is only right that we should, again and again, try to renew and to express our sorrow for all our sins. It strengthens our love for God, and makes reparation to Him, while at the same time it helps to make and keep us humble. If we form the habit of frequently renewing our sorrow for sin, there is further advantage that it is a great protection against future sin. We do not commit sin while there is hatred of sin in our souls. We commit sin because we forget the horrible nature of sin and the injury and insult it is to God. Therefore, by frequently, in time of prayer, renewing our sorrow for all the sin of our lives, we are paying a debt which we owe to God, and are at the same time safeguarding ourselves against the greatest evil that could befall us.

4. Love. Gratitude and sorrow both prepare the way for love. Sometimes ordinary Catholics are inclined to think that acts of love of God, and prayer devoted to the expression of love, are only for chosen souls. This is not so. We are all children of God; our destiny is to be with God forever, and to love Him with the whole force of our being. Therefore, we can, and should, even in this world, practise what will be our occupation and our happiness throughout eternity. The more we learn to love God here, the more shall we be able to love Him, to our own greater happiness when we reach home. We should not, therefore, regard the prayer of love as something unpractical and unsuitable for us. How many reasons we have for loving God, apart from the motives for gratitude already enumerated! We cannot, help loving what is good and noble and beautiful. But in God we have Beauty itself and

Goodness itself-Beauty and Goodness that have no limits.

The love that we are speaking of is not sentiment or feeling. Sometimes, it is true, the love of God will be accompanied by feelings of love; but love does not consist in feelings. It is the esteem of God above all the good things of earth, the readiness to surrender ourselves and all that we have to Him, and the determination not to let anything whatever in this world come between us and God. ―O my God, my love, Thou art all mine and I am all

Thine.‖ These are the words of a Kempis, and we can use these or any other words in time of prayer to express and nourish our love of God. Or we can raise our hearts to God and love Him without any words at all. And practice will enable us to grow in love, and will make it easier for us to elicit these acts of love. We were created in order to love God, so that we are doing something that is natural to us when we devote some of our time of prayer to this exercise. We have an instinctive love for what is good; and God is good, beyond all our power of comprehension. 5. Examination. If we are to make progress spiritually, we must know ourselves. Unless we know our own character and habits, our faults and weaknesses, the virtues that need watching or developing, in any efforts we make we shall be just beating the air. We may examine our conscience sufficiently for the purpose of going to confession; but we may never really discover the roots of our faults, nor the way to eradicate them. We do not know what steps to take to strengthen our character, because we have never really studied it. We know we are wanting in charity or humility or patience or some other virtue, but we have never taken the trouble to make any practical plan for developing and strengthening that virtue. Here is matter for consideration in the presence of God. We examine ourselves, not simply in order that we may benefit, but that we may serve God better. Examination is, therefore, a suitable subject for the time of prayer. We may examine our life in general, our conduct, our inclinations, our habits; or we may take some particular virtue, and consider how we can grow in it, or some particular fault, and consider the means to be taken in order to overcome it.

6. Petition. This is a very important part of prayer. By ourselves we are weak; indeed, we are helpless, for Our Lord tells us: ―Without Me you can do nothing.‖ We are, therefore, absolutely dependent upon the grace and help of God; and that grace and help will be ours if we show a readiness and desire to receive them. We do not ask for God’s gifts with a view to overcoming any reluctance on the part of God to grant them; He is more willing to give than we could be to receive. But we ask, because by so doing we dispose ourselves for His gifts; we thus open the door to God, Who is already waiting and knocking outside.

God can do all things, and He loves us with a love which we cannot measure. Why, then, need we complain that we are so poor and helpless ? It is better to be poor and helpless in ourselves, with God’s power and love at our disposal, than to have some possessions and strength of our own, and have to depend entirely upon ourselves. What a marvellous power prayer gives us! ―Whatever you ask the Father in My Name He will give you.‖ That is the promise of Lord, and we must have complete faith in His word. He may not always grant our prayer in the way we think best (and it is well He does not!), but no prayer, offered in the right spirit, ever goes unheard. St. Monica prayed that her son, Augustine, might not leave her and go to Italy, for she was afraid that she would lose all influence over him; but he went to Italy and there got the grace of conversion, and became a great saint and doctor of the Church. Monica got her wish, the spiritual welfare of her son, but not in the way she had thought best. We often pray for a snake and God gives us fish instead; we ask for what we think is bread, but is only a stone, and

God gives us real bread instead. We should thank God for the prayers He has not answered-that is, has not answered in the way we wanted, for He is much wiser than we are. He knows all things, He can do all things, and

He loves us. That is the foundation of our confidence in prayer.

If our prayer is to be pleasing to God and effective, we must have confidence, for want of confidence dishonours God, as it means that we doubt His love or His power; we must have humility, acknowledging our total dependence on God; we must be resigned to God’s will, because His will is always best, and if we are asking for something that is contrary to His will we are asking for something that is not good, though we may think it is; we must persevere, thus showing our earnestness, as well as humility and confidence; and we must base all our petitions ultimately on the merits of Jesus Christ. So the Church always offers her prayers to God, ―Through Christ

Our Lord.‖ ―O eternal, Father, Father of Our Lord Jesus Christ and my Father, He promised that whatever we should ask in His name You would grant us; trusting in this promise, I humbly and earnestly beg this grace of You, through the most holy name of Jesus. Your dearly-loved Son and Our Lord and Saviour, if it be in accordance with

Your most holy will.‖ If we pray in that way we have God’s word for it that we shall be heard. We can pray for ourselves, or we can pray for others. When we pray for ourselves, it would show very little sense if we prayed for nothing but temporal favours. There are far better gifts than these; and it cannot be very pleasing to God if we are always asking for temporal gifts and neglecting the far more precious spiritual treasures which God is so anxious to bestow upon us. Therefore, we should pray for grace to love God more, to be more humble and charitable, more obedient and zealous, and more inspired to devote ourselves to His service. When we pray for others, in the same way, we should try to obtain for them those spiritual blessings which will mean so much more than any material advantage. When we ask graces for others, we must remember that they are free to reject what God offers them. But still we can confidently ask that God will speak so persuasively to their hearts that they will be ready to accept the graces given. There are souls to be saved, sinners to be converted, nonCatholics waiting for the light of faith, Catholics tempted to abandon Christ, others suffering severe persecution, good works in need of support, evil influences to be overcome, souls in Purgatory waiting for relief. How can any

Catholic say that there is nothing he can do for the Kingdom of Christ? What wonderful things could be done if

Catholics exerted the full power that prayer gives them!

7. Confidence. Confidence has already been mentioned as a disposition which we should have when we ask for God’s gifts. But making acts of confidence in God is in itself an excellent way of praying. We can think of

God’s knowledge, His love, and His power, so far beyond our comprehension, and the ground for confidence which they give us. The more we grow in confidence in God, the stronger we become, and the happier we are, while at the same time our confidence both honours and pleases God. There are some people whose whole lives would be changed if they only acquired true confidence in God. We can acquire this confidence, or an increased measure of it, if we frequently make acts of confidence and frequently dwell on the grounds for it. Without confidence in God, we cannot be a success in life; with deep confidence in Him, we cannot fail. That should urge us to cultivate this virtue.

8. Talking to God. Sometimes the most useful form of prayer is just talking to God. We have desires, we have aims, we have perplexities, we have needs; and there is no one to whom we can talk so freely about them as to God. The most understanding friend could not enter into our thoughts and wishes as God can do. The habit of talking to God can be acquired by practice. We need the help of faith. We must try to ‗bring home to ourselves that

God isreally with us and wishes us to speak to Him. ―O my God, I belong entirely to You. You by Your power drew me out of nothing, in order that I might share in Your divine life. I am Yours, and nothing can separate me from You. I wish to give myself to You, keeping nothing back. You are infinitely good; help me to love You as

You should be loved. I do not wish to have any other object in life than to love You and devote myself to Your service. I can do nothing of myself; but I know that You love me and will never fail me. Take complete possession of me, and live and work in me.‖ In some such way as this we may try to express our desires and aims in the spiritual life, and thus develop a habit of intimacy with God. We may always have the same things to say, but that is rather an advantage than otherwise.

9. Vocal Prayer. In vocal prayer we commonly take words and thoughts that have already been prepared by others, and make them our own. It is a very useful and for most people a necessary form of prayer. There are the great prayers of the Church, which are suitable for all- the Our Father, the Hail Mary, and other common prayers, the Psalms, which the Church has made peculiarly her own through their recitation in the Divine Office, and the prayers of the Mass. The more thoughtfully and attentively we can recite our vocal prayers the better. The great danger of vocal prayer is of becoming so used to the form of words employed that we recite them merely mechanically. It is a danger which can only be avoided by care and attention, and a certain amount of routine is almost unavoidable. We must keep in mind that it is having our heart in vocal prayers that really makes them prayers, and that it is much more important to say our prayers well than to say many prayers. Many people would benefit if they said fewer prayers, but said them better.

The advantage of this kind of vocal prayer is that it provides us with suitable thoughts and sentiments, without our having to trust to our own initiative. We can choose different prayers to suit different needs or different states of our soul, or merely to provide variety and freshness. It is well to take some trouble to find the kind of prayers that do suit us, because this type of vocal prayer is for most people the easiest form of prayer, and gives valuable training in the art of prayer in general. If used diligently and in a thoughtful manner, it leads people on easily to other, more personal forms of prayer.

10. A Development of Vocal Prayer. One way in which we can use vocal prayer to help us on towards mental prayer is to take some vocal prayer phrase by phrase and ponder on it as well as we can. For example, we repeat the words, ―Our Father,‖ and instead of going on immediately to what follows, we think of what those words mean, and make whatever acts of love or trust or thanksgiving suggest themselves to us. Then, when we feel we have exhausted those words for the time, or find our attention beginning to wander, we go on to the next phrase, and so on during the rest of our time of prayer. We can use such prayers as the Our Father, the Hail Mary, the

Confiteor, the Hail Holy Queen, the hymns to the Holy Spirit, the prayers of the Mass, or any other prayers which appeal to us. Besides the immediate benefit derived from this form of prayer, there is the further advantage that when we have thus gone through such prayers in this thoughtful manner, the prayers themselves, when used afterwards in the ordinary way, mean much more to us and provide much greater nourishment for our souls. If, for instance, we went through the chief prayers of the Mass in this way, a greater unction would cling to these prayers when used during Mass, even though we could not then delay upon them in the same way. (See page 20 for examples of this method of prayer.)

11. Preparation for Mass and the Sacraments. It may sometimes happen that people have to go to Mass in a hurry, and come away in a hurry. They have little time to recollect themselves beforehand, or to dwell afterwards on the significance of what they have been doing. The same may be true of Holy Communion. They may feel that they have not the time they would like to prepare their souls for the coming of Our Lord. We know that when we receive the sacrament of Penance, or any other sacrament, the grace we receive is proportionate to our dispositions. But our preparation for confession may sometimes be hurried, and we may lose much grace that we might receive if we made more careful preparation. One remedy for this state of affairs is not to leave off our preparation till the time immediately before Mass or the reception of the sacraments. We can make it the subject of our prayer at other times. We can, for example, think and talk to Our Lord about the next Mass we are to hear, and try to realise what an important work it is, what a privilege it is to take part in it, and what we have to do as our share. Or we can think of our next Holy Communion, and make those acts of faith, humility, confidence, and desire, which will enable us to receive Our Lord with so much more fruit. We may even prepare for Last

Anointing, and make it a preparation for death. The prayers and ceremonies used in this sacrament have already been given at the end of the talk on Last Anointing. (No. XV).

12. Contemplation. One of the greatest needs of a Christian is to know his leader and model, Jesus Christ.

We are good Christians in so far as we are like Christ. We are like branches grafted on to Him, the true Vine, and we are expected to bring forth in Him. It is, therefore, necessary for us to know Him. If we really know Him we shall love Him; and if our love is genuine, we shall become like Him. Now, we cannot know Christ unless we know the Gospels. We are well aware of the untruth of the Protestant charge that the Church discourages the reading of the Scriptures. But we must admit that we are not as diligent in reading them as the Church would wish.

Nor is it sufficient merely to read the Gospels. We must live in its scenes and spend much time in company with

Our Lord. Our object is to form His likeness in our souls. When a photograph is taken, there must be a sensitive film, other light must be excluded apart from that which comes from the object to be photographed, the object must be focussed, an exposure must be made, and afterwards the image must be developed. In the same way must we focus our gaze on Our Lord, exclude the sight of other things from our mind, spend some time in contemplation of

Him, and by reflection try to develop His image in our souls.

An old writer (Rudolph of Saxony), whose book played a part in the conversion of St. Ignatius, writes: ―Always and everywhere have Him devoutly before the eyes of your mind, in His behaviour and in His ways; as when He is with His disciples and when He is with sinners; when He speaks and when He preaches; when He goes forth and when He sits down; when He sleeps and when He wakes; when He eats and when He serves others; when He heals the sick and when He does His other miracles; setting forth to thyself in thy heart His ways and His doings; how humbly He bore Himself among men, how tenderly among His disciples, how pitiful He was to the poor, to whom

He made Himself like in all things, and who seemed to be His own special family; how He despised none nor shrunk from them, not even from the leper; how He paid no court to the rich; how far He was from the cares of the world, and from trouble about the needs of the body; how patient under insult and how gentle in answering, for He sought not to maintain His cause by keen and bitter words, but with gentle and humble answer to cure another’s malice; what composure in all His behaviour, what anxiety for the salvation of souls, for the love of whom He also deigned to die; how He offered Himself as the pattern of all that is good; how compassionate He was to the afflicted, how He condescended to the imperfection of the weak, how He despised not. sinners; how mercifully He received the penitent, how dutiful He was to His parents, how ready in serving all, according to His own words, ―I am amongyou as one that serveth‖; how He shunned all display and show of singularity; how He avoided all occasions of offence; how temperate in eating and drinking, how modest in appearance, how earnest in prayer, how sober in His watching, how patient of toil and want, how peaceful and calm in all things.‖ (Introduction to his Life of Christ).

We must, therefore, in our prayer go to Bethlehem, and to Nazareth, and to the shores of the Sea of Galilee; to the hillsides where Our Lord prayed, and to the fields where He walked with His disciples; we must be with Him when He is preaching and working miracles, and when He is suffering and dying; we must share with the Apostles in the experiences of the forty days of the Risen Life. Our lives are wasted if we do not know and love Jesus Christ; but we cannot know Him if we do not study Him in the only authentic and inspired records of His earthly life, the Gospels. Here, then, is matter for prayer, to take the scenes in the Gospels one by one and enter into them; watch Our Lord, hear Him speak, note what He does; talk to Him, ask Him questions, and take His lessons to heart. We are already doing this when we say the Rosary or make the Stations of the Cross. We only need to extend the method further.

13. Meditation. We remember Our Lord’s parable of the seed that fell on the hard ground and was picked up by the birds of the air, and the seed that had not the depth of soil necessary in order to push its roots down deep, and so quickly withered when the drought came. There are many truths of faith which we say we believe, but these truths have not entered very deeply into our minds, nor do they influence very strongly our lives. There is a great difference between superficial knowledge and a profound knowledge. Meditation, or reflection, on God’s truth is, therefore, of great profit to us. The great truths of our religion have a wonderful power of inflaming our minds and inspiring us to action, provided we can bring them home to ourselves. God and His rights over us, His plan for us in time and eternity, what we owe to Jesus Christ, the closeness of the union between Him and us, our supernatural life, death, the shortness of time, heaven, various points of the teaching of Our Lord-these are examples of subjects which we can take for the kind of prayer which contains a large element of reflection in it. It is not meant to be mere abstract reflection, but such as will inspire us with love of God and desire to do His will, and bring us into loser touch with Him.

It will be well to map out our matter and have it in order. This will help to prevent aimless wandering of the mind. Thus, if we want to meditate upon humility, for example, we might divide the matter in this way: (1) what humility is and what it is not; (2) the importance of humility as seen from its own nature and from the teaching of

Christ; (3), the application of the virtue in my life. It will probably be helpful to have notes or a book, in order to keep our minds on the subject in hand. We should begin by placing ourselves in the presence of God and asking

Him to enlighten us and help us to understand His truth; then, using our imagination as well as our reason, we should try to learn something that will be for our good and enable us to serve God better. Some of the subjects which have been touched in these talks on the sacraments may serve as an introduction to this form of prayer; as, for example, the supernatural life (no. I), the Mystical Body (no. II), the Blessed Trinity (no. III), the value of the

Blessed Eucharist (no. VII), the Sacrifice of the Mass (no. VIII), the value of the Sacrament of Penance (no. X), the qualities of true sorrow for sin (no. XI), death (no. XV), vocation to the priesthood (no. XVI), the dignity of marriage (no. XVII), mixed marriages (no. XVIII), and the importance of prayer, as set forth at the beginning of this talk. The truths of faith will influence our lives in the proportion in which we have pondered on them and tried to bring them home to ourselves.

The list of different ways of praying which has been suggested in the preceding pages could, of course, be extended. It makes no reference to higher forms of prayer to which God may lead the soul that is prepared for them. The methods here enumerated are not all separate and distinct methods, and they can be combined or varied in practice as may be found helpful. It must be remembered that the best method of prayer is the method that brings me closest to God, and sends me away more in earnest about loving and serving Him. Each one must, therefore, find out by practice and experience the kind of prayer that is most suitable, and be prepared to use different methods in different circumstances and in different needs of the soul. It is a wise thing to prepare for prayer, and to have some definite plan in mind, as a general rule, but if God takes possession of us during prayer and leads us by a way different from the one we had intended going ourselves, we must follow God’s way and abandon our own. If we find that in our prayer we are in touch with God, loving Him, adoring Him, surrendering ourselves to Him, we must not let ourselves be drawn away from Him in order to pursue some line of thought we had prepared, or some subject we had intended to deal with. That can wait for some other time when it is wanted. The object of all our prayer is to lead us to God; when we get there (no matter what road we travel by) let us be content.

SOME PRACTICAL ADVICE

Difficulties will be met with in prayer, but most of them can be overcome through the experience born of continued effort and the help which can be confidently looked for from God. But some elementary advice may be given which will make the path of the beginner easier.

1. ―I cannot pray. Ask me to do anything else, but do not expect me to be a success at prayer.‖ That is a sentiment which is often expressed. We must be quite clear, to begin with, that it is utterly wrong to say that we cannot pray. Prayer is necessary for our spiritual welfare, and is it likely that God will expect us to do what is impossible? We can all pray, because we can all try to pray. If we are making a real effort to pray, and to pray well, that will count for success in God’s estimation. There-fore it is that we certainly can pray, because we can try to pray.

2. Persevere. The secret of success in prayer, as in so many other things, is to persevere. To keep on trying, no matter whether we seem to be making progress or not, is what is chiefly necessary. No one expects to be an expert pianist without years of steady practice. ―It is a great art to converse with God,‖ and we must not expect to learn it all at once. Those who are keen on tennis will practice diligently, watch other players, read books on the subject, discuss the method of producing strokes, and perhaps get lessons from a coach. We must be prepared to take pains if we wish to become proficient at prayer. And it is worth the effort.

3. ―I get no consolation from prayer. I am always cold and dry.‖ That is another objection that is made.

Now, in the first place, what we seek in prayer is spiritual strength rather than spiritual comfort; we pray in order that we may please God, and not that we may please ourselves. We can take consolation from the fact that even very good people often find prayer hard. ―Alas, daughter,‖ wrote St. Jane Frances de Chantal once in a letter, ―my prayer is ordinarily but distraction and a little suffering.‖ Suffering endured in prayer is often better than pleasure enjoyed in prayer. ―In dryness and in barrenness, in sickness and in feebleness, then is thy prayer full pleasing to

Me,‖ said Our Lord once to Blessed Juliana of Norwich. When we pray in spite of dryness, we are proving that we are praying for God’s sake, and not for our own pleasure. Dryness and coldness keep us humble, purify our love, make us strive more earnestly, increase our sense of dependence on God, and bring us greater merit. Consolation, on the other hand, is often dangerous. We can accept consolation when God gives it, humbly and thankfully, but we must not allow ourselves to become too attached to it. In this life we must be prepared for suffering; in eternity there will be undiluted happiness.

4. ―I cannot keep away distractions.‖ We shall not be blamed for distractions unless they are voluntary.

If we fight against distractions, and keep doing our best to prevent our mind wandering, we are pleasing God, because we are taking trouble for His sake. Sometimes we can make the distractions the subject of our prayer. If there is something that is worrying us, for instance, and we cannot keep our mind off it, let us talk to Our Lord about it, and get light and comfort from Him.

5. Begin well. This itself is, to some extent, a protection against distractions. I want to bring my mind with me to prayer. Therefore, at the beginning I should be careful to collect my thoughts and think of what I am going to do. I should remember that I am in the presence of God, and make an act of faith in this. Then I should, very humbly, adore Him. Many people would find their prayer at once improved if they took pains in this way to make a good beginning.

6. I must remember, when I come to pray, that I am not forcing myself on someone who is not interested in me, and does not want to be bothered with me. I am speaking to one who loves me more than I could ever realise, who has given me my life and all I have, who has wonderful plans for me, and is interested in everything that concerns me. Here I must exercise my faith, on which the success of prayer so greatly depends. If I really believe that God loves me, personally, and that He wants me to be with Him and speak to Him, prayer will be easier.

7. The reading of spiritual books prepares the way for prayer, as it makes us interested in spiritual things and provides us with the thoughts that will be useful during prayer. Besides the Gospels and the Imitation of Christ, which every Catholic should have at hand, and sometimes read, there is a host of spiritual books to suit all tastes.

Though we should read spiritual books for profit, and not for amusement, the modern spiritual book is anything but dull and unattractive.

8. It has been said that the way to pray well is to pray always. This is only repeating Our Lord’s advice, ―You must always pray.‖ This does not mean that we must always be consciously directing our minds to God; but that we should form the habit of turning to God frequently, and of doing all our actions for Him. At prayer we do not, so to speak, charge a battery, and then go away and draw on it. It should be rather as if we were constantly linked up with the electricity supply. We are not to come to God occasionally and then go away from Him. We should be close to Him always, working with Him and for Him, trying to make our thoughts, words, and actions worthy of Him, ready to turn to Him in case of need, or to renew our offering of ourselves to Him. We can, without great trouble, cultivate the habit of ejaculatory prayer. Then, when we are free to set aside other things in order to pray, we are not coming into a strange atmosphere, nor have we to assume an entirely different spirit.

9. Self-denial is a word that has an unpleasant sound, but we cannot be good Christians without selfdenial; nor can we make much advance at prayer without the spirit of self-denial. Those who are in earnest about prayer are seeking to cultivate the love of God and to find their happiness in Him. But this effort is to a large extent nullified if there is too great an attachment to the pleasures of this world. ―Whoever will be a friend of this world becomes an enemy of God,‖ says St. James. We cannot have a taste for the things of God while giving ourselves unrestrainedly to worldly things. It is hard for human nature, but Our Lord’s word stands: ―Unless you renounce yourself you cannot be My disciple.‖ Here is a mistake which many make. They are always looking for pleasure and amusement and their own satisfaction; and then they wonder why prayer and union with God have no attraction for them. So, if we would be successful at prayer, we must learn to deny ourselves; if we would rise towards God, we must first cut the bonds that bind us to material things.

10. If we are to make progress in prayer, we must do our best when we pray. Practising the piano carelessly does more harm than good. Careless prayer does not make us more spiritual, nor set us on fire with the love of God. Therefore, once again, quality is more important than quantity. When we come to prayer we must try to give ourselves completely to God, and stir up genuine love in our hearts. No amount of cold water will send a heavy train hurtling along the track. It is only when that water is converted into steam that the train glides along like a living thing. When a steep grade is reached, then the stoker must get to work and increase the fire. We have the same task to do in our prayer. But stoking is hard work.

11. Finally, we must ask God to teach us to pray. Sometimes people complain that they find prayer hard, and that, in spite of all their efforts, they do not seem to be making any progress. You inquire whether they ask God for help frequently and earnestly, and they have to admit that they do not. But we cannot hope to succeed without God’s help, and He is longing to help us if we only turn to Him. ―If you, being evil, know how to give good gifts to yourchildren, how much more will your Father in heaven give the good spirit to them that ask Him.‖ The spirit of prayer is a ―good spirit‖; Our Lord tells us where we can obtain it.

Sometimes we may feel in ourselves the desire to lead better lives, and to do more in the cause of Christ the King; but we do not know where to begin. It would be safe to begin with prayer. If we introduce more prayer into our lives, and, above all, if we make our prayer better prayer, the results are sure to follow. Just as, when the rains come after drought, the face of the earth is trans-formed; there is bright green where there was only drab brown, and growth where everything had seemed dead. So may we expect to find, through prayer, a transformation in our souls; new warmth and colour, new light and vigour. The effects are infallible if we persevere in prayer. We become more intimately united with Christ, and the divine life which we derive from Him pulses more strongly in our souls.

With ambition to work for the salvation of souls and the spread of the Kingdom of Christ may go a certain blindness about the necessity of first developing our own spiritual life. The influence of Christ can be spread only by those who are filled with the spirit of Christ. A lamp will give no light till it is lit; a fire will give no heat till it is burning. The further we want a beacon to shine over the countryside the more brightly must it blaze itself. That is why all Catholic Action must begin in the soul. Study, planning, discussion, are all good, but there must be the spiritual change in the soul or the Catholic Actionist will be such only in name. The most elaborate electric fittings will be of no use (except for ornament) unless the electric current is available. The most perfect system of irrigation channels will be of no use to the man on the land unless there is water in the storage reservoirs.

To save the world we must bring Christ into it. It is our vocation, as Catholics, to do that. The way to begin is to be more earnest and diligent in the use of the two great means of grace, prayer and the sacraments.

SUMMARY

1. The meaning of Prayer.

2. The importance of prayer as (a) a duty, (b) a necessity, and (c) a source of happiness.

3. Morning and evening prayers.

4. Prayer during the day.

5. Some ways of learning to pray.

6. Some difficulties and some roads to success.

7. The one thing necessary.

EXAMPLE OF DEVELOPMENT OF VOCAL PRAYER

THE OUR FATHER

Our Father:

Father: a perfect Father, Who says He will have mercy ―more than a mother‖; it is Our Lord Himself Who taught me to call Him Father; He has truly a father’s love and care for me; to Him I owe all the love and respect I can give.

Our: He is my Father, but Father of all as well; therefore they are my brothers and sisters; I cannot call Him Father if I am not also acknowledging their relationship to me; we are all one family of God.

Who art in heaven:

Heaven, where there is no unhappiness, no shadow of evil, but all that is good. Heaven is my Father’s home, and therefore my home, too. I am certain of reaching it if I am faithful to my sonship.

Hallowed be Thy Name:

May God be blessed! Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit! May God be blessed in Himself and in all His works: whatever may befall me, I will always try to say, ―Blessed be God.‖

Thy kingdom come:

That God may rule over all; for that I must pray and for that I must work. It was the object of Christ’s work on earth, the establishment of the Kingdom of God. How happy would the world be if God’s kingship were universally acknowledged.

Thy will be done:

May that holy will be done in my regard and in regard to all things. God’s will is always best, even when it means suffering for me. I can choose nothing higher or holier than the will of God; I can make no better use of my will than to bend it into conformity with God’s will.

On earth as it is in heaven:

That is the ideal we must aim at, that God’s name may be blessed, and His kingship be established, and His will be done, to the same extent on earth as in heaven. Thus will earth become more like heaven.

Give us this day our daily bread:

Provide what we need for our bodily welfare, so that we may be able to serve You. Give the nourishment which our souls need; light to understand the truth, wisdom to see things as they really are, strength to cling to what is good and resist the fascination of evil.

This day: I do not ask to be made rich and independent of God, which is impossible; I am content to depend on him from day to day, knowing He will never fail me.

Forgive us our trespasses:

One of our greatest needs is for mercy and forgiveness, and God is an ocean of mercy. We ask, not because of merits of our own, but because God is good.

As we forgive them that trespass against us:

We ask for mercy because we give it. ―Blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy.‖ If, therefore, we want God to be quick and generous in forgiving us our great offences, we must be quick and generous in forgiving the much smaller offences committed against us. ―Forgive and you shall be forgiven.‖

And lead us not into temptation:

Do not allow us, O Father, to be overcome by the temptations which we must meet with. Be with us always, and keep firm hold of us, that we be not carried away from You by the water of temptation. Whatever the temptation, we can always trust to receive the help we need.

But deliver us from evil:

Evil is the only thing we need fear; nothing else can harm us. Evil always threatens while we are in this world; but God is strong; He can and will deliver us if we are earnest in prayer. ―For those who love God all things work together forgood.‖

Amen:

So may it be. I pray the prayer Jesus Christ., Your Son, taught us; may all its petitions be granted through His merits. Amen, amen.

POINTS FOR CONSIDERATION OR DISCUSSION

1. What connection has prayer with the sacraments?

2. Why is prayer a duty, and a primary duty?

3. Does my practice show that, I am convinced that my success in life depends on prayer?

4. Where do I chiefly seek to satisfy my instinctive craving for happiness, in God or outside Him?

5. Is there anything which prevents my morning and evening prayers being well said? Have I any plan for meeting the difficulty?

6. Outside fixed times for prayer do I ever raise my mind to God?

7. Is it a good thing to keep my religion entirely to myself as a personal thing?

8. People may be offended if I make the sign of the Cross in public. What do I think of that objection?

9. Is there real reverence and a spirit of adoration in my prayer?

10. What is the proportion of acts of thanksgiving to acts of petition in my prayer?

11. Do I ever make acts of sorrow except when I am preparing for confession?

12. Should true love for God be considered beyond the capacity of ordinary Catholics?

13. Do I know myself and my faults sufficiently? Have I definite plans for bringing about improvement? Do I ever seriously examine myself?

14. ―Whatever you ask the Father in My name He will give you.‖ Do I really believe in that promise?

15. God is more than any friend to me. Do I converse with Him as I like to converse with real friends?

16. Is there any book written which is more important for a Christian than the Gospels? Can I say that my knowledge of them corresponds with their importance?

17. Am I satisfied with just assenting to the truths of faith, or do I try seriously to understand and appreciate them by making them the subject of prayer?

18. ―I cannot pray.‖ Can that statement be made truth-fully by anyone?

19. Is it a safe conclusion that my prayer cannot be good, or beneficial to myself, because I find it dull and hard?

20. Am I in the habit of thinking seriously of what I am going to do before I begin to pray? Do I always try to make a good beginning?

21. ―You must always pray.‖ Have I paid any attention to this advice of Our Lord’s? Am I trying to carry it out?

22. Do I realise that there is a connection between prayer and self-denial? Am I making the mistake of trying to separate them?

23. The Apostles said to Our Lord, ―Teach us to pray.‖ Are we trying to succeed without the same teacher?

24. The foliage, flowers, and fruit of the trees depend on something hidden from the eye. Am I looking for outward results in my life without the corresponding hidden thing in my soul?

25. Would it be hard to use other vocal prayers in the way suggested above for the Our Fathers?

Nihil Obstat:

P. JONES

Censor Deputatus

Imprimatur :

@ D. MANNIX,

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis.

Prayer Made Easy

REV. NICHOLAS WALSH, S.J

INDEX

INTRODUCTORY

It is a divine truth that Grace, the Grace of God, is the onlypower or means by which man’s soul is sanctified and saved. With it we can do all things, and without it nothing; nothing, in itself, supernatural and conducive to eternal salvation. it is also the teaching of the Church that Prayer and the Sacraments are the great channels of Grace instituted by Jesus Christ. He says to all:

“Ask and you shall receive.” After His resurrection He instituted the Sacrament of Penance, or Confess ion, as it is commonly called, when “He breathed on the Apostles and said: Receive ye the Holy host, whose sins you shall forgive they are forgiven them, and whose sins you shall retain they are retained.” The Apostles, in whom He founded His Church, were a moral body, to last to the end of time, in the exercise of the ordinary powers He gave them, and amongst these was the power of forgiving

Lastly, in the sixth chapter of St. John, when promising to institute the Blessed Sacrament, He said: “Amen, Amen, I say unto you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man, and drink His Blood, you shall not have life in you. He that eateth My Flesh and drinketh My Blood hath everlasting life, and I will raise him upon the Last Day. For My Flesh is meat indeed, and My Blood is drink indeed. He that eateth My Flesh and drinketh My Blood abideth in Me and I in him.”

Prayer, and the Sacraments of Penance and the Eucharist, are the great ordinary channels of grace between God and the soul of adult man. Of these three, however, Prayer and the Sacrament of Penance are more important, for the following reason. The Eucharist, it is true, has in itself the power of producing grace, but the amount of grace it imparts to the soul depends on the dispositions of the soul when receiving it. A soul very perfectly disposed will receive overflowing grace, whilst to a soul, not in mortal sin, but lukewarm, tepid, in a word, poorly disposed, probably but little grace is given; and of such a Communion the best and worst thing which can be said is that it is not a sacrilege. Now, Prayer and Confession are the great means for preparing and disposing a soul for a worthy and fruitful communion; therefore, in this sense, at least, the former are of more importance than the latter. it is true that a person who receives well the Blessed Sacrament is likely to pray devoutly and to make good Confessions, but still it may be safely said that the Eucharist is not the means towards Prayer and Confession being made well, as these are towards a worthy Communion.

If a person is attentive to his prayers and receives fruitfully these two Sacraments be will have abundance of grace, and if he uses this rightly, he will be always able to fight and conquer his enemies, no matter in what form of temptation they show themselves, he will keep clear of them where he can, and where he must face them he will gain the victory by “fighting them legitimately” on to the end.

THE POWER OF PRAYER

We have in inspired Scripture many proofs that Prayer rightly made, is omnipotent, infallible in obtaining all good things, that is, all things which are good for us, according to God’s mind and providence, with a view to our sanctifica- tion and salvation. First, in the Old Testament there are countless texts in which God commands, exhorts, entreats us to look to Him, to pray to Him, to cry to Him, etc., and that if we do He will hear us, that His ears are always open, longing, as it were, to hear our prayer. But more, He meets an objection that some sinners might naturally make, saying: “Yes, He will hear the just and holy, but will He hear us?” by telling them that though their sins be as scarlet or as crimson, if they, rightly disposed, cry to Him, He will hear them, and make them white as snow. St. Augustine, considering these countless texts, comes to the following most logical conclusion. “God is for ever urging us to ask. Will He refuse when we ask? Certainly not, for He would not so urge us to ask if He were not ready to give.” In the New Testament, however, our Lord Himself gives us the strangest proof of all. In His Sermon on the Mount, when speaking to the multitude-to men of all time-He says: “Ask and it shall be given to you, seek and you shall find, knock and it shall be opened to you. For every one that asketh receiveth, and he that seeketh findeth, and to him that knocketh, it shall be opened. For what man is there among you of whom if his son shall ask bread will he reach him a stone, or if he shall ask him a fish will he reach him a serpent. if you then, being evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father, who is in heaven, give good things to them that ask Him?” Our Lord makes no distinction between saint and sinner, and says, to put it simply, that it is absurd to suppose that our good Father, God, could refuse anything good to those who ask Him. Again, in the parable of the lost sheep and of the Prodigal, He tells us of God’s desire to take back the sinners who have ungratefully turned their backs upon and gone away from Him, above all if they come to Him in prayer, as the prodigal did.

Lastly, He was, as a rule, always with the poor and miserable of body and soul, and He received with open arms and heart all, even the worst sinners, who came to Him. I instance not Magdalene, or the thief on the Cross, or the outcast Canaanite woman, for all three came to or prayed to Him, but the wretched woman taken in flagrant crime who was dragged before Him.

God, for ever urging us to pray, suggests the thought that He considered no one could be lost who believed in the power and efficacy of prayer. And hence, in His desire to save all men, He goes on to prove again and again in the strongest way, as has been said above, that prayer is omnipotent in securing all good things. No wonder, therefore, that the greatest authorities in the Church speak of it as such. St. Augustine calls prayer “The Key of Heaven,” with it we can unlock God’s treasure house and enrich ourselves as we like.

He also says “the man who prays well lives well.” St. Alphonsus, on the other hand, says, “He who prays will be saved; and he who does not pray will be lost.”

St. Teresa tells us that “prayer is the channel of God’s grace; give up prayer, and grace will not come. Prayer is the foundation of solid virtues; giveup prayer, and they go to pieces.” Also, “Prayer and sin cannot live together.” St. Chrysostom: “When a queen enters a city all the grandees gather round her; so also when the spirit of prayer possesses the soul, all virtues come in her train.” Yes, even the worst sinner, if he prays, must come right and keep right.

A well instructed Catholic, if lost, will be the most inexcusable person on the Last Day. For if he should think of urging in excuse the number and the great power of his temptations, God maysay: “But you knew the omnipotence of Prayer, and had you used it I was pledged to give you grace by which you could have conquered each and all, and merited eternal glory by doing so.” Or let me suppose the following parable: A rich man said to a poor one, who lived close to him: Come every morning and I will give you food and drink, also, at times, coal, clothes, etc., according to the season, and if you are prevented from coming yourself, send a friend and I will give them to him for you. Well, after a time, this man gave up doing what he was told, neglected the very easy condition of asking, and when dying of want blamed his charitable and generous friend as the cause of his death. How unreasonable, and false as well. Yet, still more so the lost Catholic, as the condition of asking was the easiest possible, because he was always close to God, closer than one man could be to another-his lips, as it were, ever at God’s ear. The lost Catholic can justly blame no one but himself.

EASY TO PRAY

As men are often under the delusion that Prayer is a hard, difficult work, I now wish to show that it is a very easy work. Prayer consists of two things, to think of God and say a word to Him. In the word “God,” I include, of course, the Three Persons of the Holy Trinity, Our Lord, God made Man; and the same applies to the ever Blessed Virgin and the angels and saints, to whom we may pray, as they are the friends of God in heaven, and have an intercessory power with Him. By “a word” I mean that which is right or becoming that we should say to God. Let us keep this definition of prayer well in mind. “To think of God and say a word to Him,” Where you have These you have prayer; where they are absent there is no prayer. Hence, if a man, when at his business or work, or even at his recreation, thinks for a moment of God and says a short word to Him, he prays: whereas a person prostrated before the Blessed Sacrament, but wilfully distracted, or talking mindless, heartless babble, does not pray at all. Our Lord seems to tell us this truth in His parable of the Publican and the Pharisee. The Publican, the typical sinner of the Jews, “standing afar off”—at the door of the temple-”would not so much as lift his eyes towards heaven, but struck his breast, saying, with a repentent heart, OGod, be merciful to me a sinner”-eight words-”went down to his house justified.” Not so the Pharisee, who, standing so as to be seen by all, probably as close to the Holy of Holies as was permitted, dared to address God in a long prayer which was a boastful account of his own good works as he thought them, and a contemptuous comparison of himself with others, and so went away worse than he came.

Prayer is the easiest thing in the world, at least in the matter of speaking. This is clearly true, if we bear in mind the definition, and the fact that God is the easiest being in this world to speak to. Consider it as follows:” if we wish to speak to our fellow man, we may have to go a distance to meet him, or from one part of our house or grounds to another to find him, and when we do and stand face to face with him, we must form words and speak them in an articulate manner, so that he can hear us: or, if we cannot communicate with him viva voca, we must sit down and write him a letter. Now, In speaking or communicating with God, none of these things is necessary. God is everywhere, at all times, we cannot get away from Him, even if we should wish and strive to do so. He tells us that if we ascend to heaven, or descend to hell, or go to the ends of the earth He is there, and it is His hand which upholds us. We may say truthfully that our lips are ever at His ears, and that He hears the gentlest whisper of the heart as well as if we spoke in the loudest tone. St. Chrysostom puts this truth before us by saying, if you wish to approach a king you must engage some influential person or bribe flunkies, in order to do so, but nothing of this kind is necessary in order to approach God. You can. of yourself, be with Him at any moment.

This view of prayer has a very practical side for all, but particularly for men of very busy lives, for these can pray much by esteeming and making aspirations or ejaculations, which may be defined as a few words breathed or shot forth from the heart to God at any time or in any place. it is true, and of universal custom, and becoming,—if not commanded, that we should in certain places and in certain circumstances appear before God bareheaded, bowed down, kneeling, etc.; but the posture of the body is in no way of the essence of prayer. if a man in his office, in the market-place, travelling on foot, by railway, or on a ship, lying awake at night, or even on a racecourse recollects himself for a moment and says a word to God, he prays. St. Chrysostom says that long prayers are somewhat difficult because of the strain on the mind they demand, but aspirations are easy, and adds, “Make these often, in the shop, in the mart, or any place; make one at least when the hour sounds, that the order of prayer may go along with the order of time.”

That these short ejaculations are real prayer and very powerful, we have on the highest authority, that of Our Lord Himself. We read in the fourteenth chapter of St. Matthew two instances of the power of aspirations. The disciples are at sea in a boat, “tossed by the waves, for the wind was contrary,” but seeing Our Lord walking on the sea towards them”they cried out for fear” an ejaculation, and immediately Jesus spoke to them, saying: “Be of good heart; it is I, fear not!” But Peter, with Our Lord’s permission, “going down out of the boat walked upon the water to come to Jesus but seeing the wind strong he was afraid, and when he began to sink he cried out,Lord save me,”-three words- “And immediately Jesus stretching forth His hand took hold of him, and when they were come up into the boat the wind ceased.” Here we see how two aspirations, one by the disciples and one by Peter, were answered Immediately by Our Lord.

We have a sea in many ways dangerous to us who must voyage it, storms little and great, currents in the wrong direction, gentle and pleasant at first, but getting stronger by degrees and sweeping towards rocks of which the most to be dreaded are those that are just a little below the water. Or, to put it plainly, we have temptations of many kinds, leagued, as I may say, with the passions of our corrupt nature. Now, when beset or attacked by any of these, make an aspiration; say, like Peter, “Lord save me,” or, like the disciples, “Lord, save us, we perish.” God will be with us at once and give us “good Issue,” that is, victory! And if we patiently make an aspiration now and then, as long as the temptation lasts, or as often as it returns we drive the enemy off the field. I have said patiently, for often, if we make an aspiration as fervently as a saint, the temptation will not go away, or, if it does, will return again and again. Let us patiently and trustfully make aspirations and there will be no sin, even if the temptation dogged us for days.

We have another instance of the power of an aspiration, told us by Our Lord. The sinful Publican, in humility and sorrow for his sin, cried out: “Lord, be merciful to me a sinner.” Seven words, and he was justified. it is a good and salutary custom to make short acts of contrition like the above for our sins forgiven, as well as not forgiven. Another instance of the power of a few words is when Martha and Mary sent this brief sentence to Our Lord:”He whom Thou lovest is sick.” He went and did more than heal Lazarus, He raised him from death to life. Again, the thief on the cross cried out: “Lord, remember me when Thou comest into the kingdom,” -nine words-and his prayer was at once answered. But perhaps the most instructive instance of the wonderful power of aspirations, and of persevering in them, is given by the poor Canaanite woman when she came to our Lord to ask relief for her daughter, who was grievously tormented by a devil. Her first ejaculation was “Have mercy on me, O Lord, Thou Son of David; my daughter is grievously troubled by a devil.” She asks, with reverence, in a few words, the grace she needed. But Our Lord, for His Own wise reasons, “answered her not a word.” Nothing daunted, she came nearer, and made her second aspiration, adoring Him and saying: “Lord, help me.” Three words. He now answers her appeal by a word which implied, as the Fathers of the Church and Commentators say, an insult, “it is not good to take the bread of the children”-namely, those of Israel, to whom, first of all, His mission was-”and cast it to the dogs.” Again, patient and hopeful, she seizes Our Lord’s words, and turns them against Himself, and finds in them an argument in her own favour, saying: “Yea, Lord,for the whelps also eat of the crumbs which fall from the table of their masters.” This was her third aspiration, full of humility and faith. Our Lord then and at once granted her request, “and her daughter was cured from that hour.”

In the Old Testament the Psalms are full of aspirations. it is well to remember that aspirations may be said anywhere and in any posture; also, that they can be said with perfect ease, and without distractions. Persons often dislike long prayers, because, when saying them, they are so tempted and troubled by distractions. Now a man, even of the wildest Imagination, can throw his heart into three or ten words without any fear of distraction. We should not commit ourselves to aspirations made, as it were, for us unless we fancy them or find that they suit us better than to make them in our own simple way and words. No one knows the thoughts, desires, difficulties, wants, etc., of a man, as he knows them himself. A poor, uneducated man in the fields will speak his word to God better than the most learned and saintly ascetic could make it for him.

There is another use of aspirations which we may need where we shall most need prayer, and may find long prayers very difficult, namely, in time of serious illness, or when we are coming towards the end of life. In these circumstances, owing to weakness, great physical pain, semi-unconsciousness, etc., long prayers are practically Impossible, whilst a few words, breathed forth earnestly and fervently for a moment are easy. Yes, when we shall need prayer most, the form of ejaculatory prayer is easiest and best, and at times the only possible form of prayer.

It is to be feared that men of busy lives will not pray as much and as often as they ought unless they train themselves to this practice of aspirations. I say “train themselves,” because as prayer does not come naturally to us and we are diverted from it by the hurry of life and by sensible material things, it is necessary to patiently labour to acquire this habit, and the labour will be well repaid. We can do this by placing a mark here and there in a book we are reading, something to our eye out of place in our room or house, when catching sight of a church from a railway carriage, when passing one, something which will call our attention to the resolution we have made and the practice of it, by making an aspiration at the moment. I have delayed perhaps too long on this form of prayer, but I have done so because many men of the world know little or nothing about it, or do not esteem it at its proper value because it is such a small thing, or they identify prayer with posture of the body, their prayer-book, and prayers composed by others. But, above all, because it is a great help to lay people, for whose practical instruction this little book is written. We could make a hundred aspirations or more every day without interfering with business, work, or recreation.

A WORD ON LONG PRAYERS

Short prayers are, as has been proved, very easy; long prayers are not very difficult. By long prayers I mean morning and night prayers, assistance at Sunday and daily Mass, such devotions as the Rosary, etc. To say these and such prayers well it is necessary to attend to a few things: and if we do our prayers must be good, even though there be no sensible fervour and though they may seem to us to be said in a cold or dull manner. God tells us: “Before prayer, prepare your soul, and be not like one who tempts God.” In other words, use the ordinary means settled by God as necessary for a good prayer, and your prayer will be good; but if you neglect these, you are like one tempting God to work a miracle which He will not work, for He never gives extraordinary helps towards anything when the ordinary means are at hand and available. These ordinary means are as follows: (1) “Before prayer, prepare thy soul,” that is. prepare for and begin prayer with as calm a mind and heart as you can command. Put away all distracting thoughts, and keep yourself in a reverent state of mind. On awakening, or when about to get up, make an offering of yourself to God, make aspirations when dressing, so as to keep yourself united with God, and as a preparation for morning prayer. Act in a similar way when going to hear Mass, or to practise any other devotion, so as to quiet and calm the mind as best you can. A good beginning is half the work. (2) Place yourself in the presence of God by a simple act of faith. No strain or trying to picture God after a sensible manner is necessary, nay, this would disturb or distract. Faith tells you that you are close with God and that prayer is to speak to Him, that He is a greater reality than the priedieu or bench, or anything else in your room or in the church. You may use a homely parable with advantage. Suppose you were about to have an interview with a king, an emperor or a Sovereign Pontiff, would you not be careful about your external appearance and manner; also determined to listen to them with great respect and attention, and to study the most becoming and best words you could command if obliged to speak to them. But now, in prayer, you are talking to One who is infinitely above them all, and yet Who does not require that external show which they exact. How just and becoming, therefore, that you should, with all your soul and all interior reverence, hold converse with Him. (3) Though you begin your prayer In the most recollected manner, still distractions will come, we cannot help them; there is not a venial sin in a million of distractions as such. (a) Do not deliberately introduce them; (b) when they come turn again and again away from them to God, and if you had nothing to offer to God but the patient care with which you prevented distractions from becoming wilful, you would have an offering very acceptable to Him, though you yourself may think your prayer a very poor one on account of the many distractions. Distractions when not allowed to be wilful give additional merit to prayer. The hard prayer is the best. (C) In long prayers we should keep the senses, particularly the eyes, under mortified control, even when alone in our own room; also the imagination. When about to hear Mass, we should bear in mind the words of the Council of Trent: “No holier work could be done in this world than the tremendous sacrifice of the Mass.” Moreover, we should keep the eye under proper control, for when we look about us we necessarily create distraction, and cannot hear Mass or make our visit well, because we neglect one of the ordinary means of doing so. We should, of course, devoutly hear Mass, attend Vespers, make our visits to the Blessed Sacrament, etc., but the Church gives no command as to the precise way in which we should do so. We are free in this matter if we be reverent and devout. Some persons use their prayer book or missal when hearing Mass, others never use a book, but meditate, or use vocal prayers which they have by heart, each in his own way.

We generally find out after a time that a certain way, the simpler the better, of thinking of God, of Our Lord, etc., and of talking to them, suits us best and helps us best at. our devotions; if so, let us by all means keep to and cultivate it.

In connection with this subject of long prayers it may be well to say a word about devotions -that is, certain pious practices which are not of duty, or commanded by God or His Church. it is not necessary to caution men against having too many of them. At the same time they will find help, consolation and grace by having a few which will fit into their daily life, without Interfering with business, or even recreation. Let “me suggest a few. A beautiful devotion, in honour of Our Lord and the Blessed Sacrament is, when not too inconvenient, to hear Mass on weekdays- call it daily Mass. There is, of Course, no obligation; therefore it is the more pleasing to God and the more meritorious, and the merit is increased when a person puts himself to some inconvenience, by getting up earlier, anticipating or putting off something which can be done at another time, in order to assist at the Holy Sacrifice. We should never allow mere sloth to Interfere. it is paying a very poor compliment to Our Lord, if not making little of Him, that when He is being offered up on the altar within a few minutes” walk of where we are, we will not go to pay Him that honour which He has richly merited, at such cost to Himself, by dying for us. Forgetting, too, that He longs for our coming, and is desirous of pouring grace into the souls of those who do come to Him. Another devotion is to make a short visit to the Blessed Sacrament every day, and above all on days when we have not been able to manage the daily Mass. Persons living in or near cities, towns or villages, must often pass a church were Our Lord is a Prisoner of love. What more natural or more becoming than that we should turn in to pay a short visit to our dearest and best friend; or, if not, to at least lift the hat in salute, and send the heart to Him by an aspiration as we pass.

Of devotions to the ever Blessed Virgin, Mother of God, I would suggest three. First, three Hail Marys in honour of her Immaculate Conception, the Brown Scapular, and the Rosary, or Beads. Wonderful things are told of the graces received by the young particularly in return for a faithful practice every day of the first devotion, not a minute’s work. The Brown is the oldest of all scapulars and very richly indulgenced. Persons should bear in mind that once rightly invested in this scapular they may always invest themselves by putting on a new one when the old is beyond use. The Rosary is a beautiful and ancient devotion, nor is it too much to ask men of the world to practise it. Let them carry about with them a small strong beads, and as they are often alone, they will find many opportunities of using it, namely, in their office, during a break in business, when travelling alone, etc. They need have no difficulty in breaking the five decades when there is some reason for doing so. The Rosary is also a very beautiful family devotion. Lastly, bearing in mind all that has been said about aspirations, men of busy lives may practise devotion to the Holy Ghost, the Giver of Gifts, the Heavenly Banker, to St. Joseph, to their patron saints and Angel Guardian, by making aspirations, by saying a word to them often, at least once a day.

MENTAL PRAYER

Having said so much about vocal prayer, I wish to say a word now about mental prayer, the religious study of the great truths, meditation-call it which of the three you like. There are persons poorly, or not at all educated, who know, however, and understand their catechism, and with whom simple lively faith is as an Instinct. These can get on very well without any formal study of the divine truths. it is not so, as a rule, with those who are intellectual, educated, in constant contact with men of every religion and no religion, who read books and serials, many of which contain articles cleverly written, but dangerous to faith. Such persons, even though they be not troubled by any doubts about the truths themselves, cannot hold their own as good practical Catholics, unless they give some time and thought to the study of divine truths, with the purpose of keeping them well in head and hand, and effective in their lives. The word “cannot” may appear too strong, but it may be safely stated that such a study is certainly powerful in giving these truths a leading and dominant influence. When I use the word “study” I do not mean a study in order to know these truths, or to learn the grounds and arguments on which they rest; but a study, in simple faith, of truths already accepted and believed, in order to understand the responsibilities and consequences which the accepting of and believing in them really involves, and to strengthen and stimulate the resolution of forming our daily lives according to them. it is scarcely possible for certain classes of Catholics, living in the world, to lead the lives to which they are bound unless they be persons of religious study, consideration, reflection, meditation-call it which or what you like.

There are Catholics quite at home and well instructed in their religious duties, who yet neglect some of them. They do not heed that saying of God: “if you know these things, happy are you if you do them.” “A trite saying,” writes Cardinal Newman, “it is nothing to know what is right unless we do it.” and again: “He who knows well the will of his Master and does not do it will get doublestripes.” In this matter it is not no knowledge, or little knowledge, but great knowledge that is the dangerous thing. Laymen may say meditation is very good and necessary, perhaps, for priests and religious, but not so for us; beside, as a rule, it is hard work and we do not know how to do it. Well, in the following instruction I shall substitute the word “Religious study” in place of the more formidable one, “Meditation.” and I hope to be able to show (1) that religious study of the great divine truths is of great importance in the life of a layman; (2) that it is not hard work, and that fairly educated men of the world can do it well and profitably if they only take the right view of it. it will be put before them in a way suited to their capacity.

What is this “Religious study” of which I speak . It is a very simple thing. It is to take some divine truth, such as Death, Judgment, the Sufferings of Christ, one of the Sacraments, Penance or the Eucharist, etc., and to look at and study it, not in a passing superficial perfunctory way, but thoughtfully, studiously; to consider it as a truth which has some deep meaning for myself, because revealed by God with a view to my eternal salvation. I place my life side by side with this truth, under its light, bring it straight home to myself, and examine myself according to it. In this examination I may see, be forced to see, that there is something In my life which is out of keeping or opposed to this truth of God, and therefore a lie, bad for myself and displeasing to Him, and to be got rid and kept rid of; and then an honest practical resolution is made to do so. Or it may be put in other words. The truths of God are theonly true” standard of life, I place my soul and life under their light, and then make a severe raking examination of myself, and finding that certain things are out of order, because out of keeping with those divine truths, I admit it and resolve to put my hand to the work and to order my life aright. A saying of St. Bernard has become an axiom: “I do not meditate to become more learned, but to become better.” We do meditate or study divine truths to become more learned about God, ourselves, and our mutual relations, but then to use this knowledge in the bettering of ourselves.

Someone may say, but to do all this, simple though it looks on paper, is not an easy work. Still, it is not a difficult work. In fact, we do nothing deliberate, as human act, without meditation or study, without considering certain facts, circumstances truths, called by logicians “premises,” drawing a conclusion from them and putting the conclusion into practice. it is true that we sometimes see the conclusion so quickly that we do not advert to the premises, and the reasoning which had really gone on in our mind. Let me give a few homely examples, A man wishes to buy a horse. He will consider the purpose for which he intends him-dray, carriage, riding, hunting, etc.-the price he can, and is ready to give. With these in mind he will examine a number of animals, and his practical conclusion will be to buy that horse which he believes is best for the work and within his price. A person is about to take a vacation. He will, consider what would please him most-of countries, home or foreign: of places, cities, silvan, or mountain scenery; the money he may spend and the time at his disposal; and then he comes to that conclusion which he thinks the best, and carries it out. The same may be said of buying a house, a coat, and of most other things we do. Now, we have merely to employ our faculties of intellect and will in a similar way on divine truths and spiritual subjects, and we have meditation or religious study. Let me give some examples of this study on certain truths or subjects, which should at times claim the attention of men living in the world. I consider, for instance, the malice, the moral turpitude of mortal sin. it is a vile, ungrateful, inexcusable insult and outrage offered to the great God, Who loved me and died for me. I turn my back upon Him, and contemptuously throw Him over for some wretched Inclination or passion of my own. it is the only evil, bad in its consequences to me who commit it, even in this world, but terrible and awful in its eternal consequences. But I have, often perhaps, committed mortal sin; I am this moment in mortal sin, my soul murdered by my own hand. A conclusion is forced upon me. Repent! Be sorry for your sins, and in the future keep clear of the dangerous occasions of sin, and when you must face temptation use the means of conquering it. Or I take for the subject of my study, Death. There seems to be a special providence in the fact that God has made this awful truth so certain that men, who have denied all the other divine truths, even the existence of God, cannot deny this. Experience is ever proving the truth of those inspired words: “Where is the man who has lived and has not seen death?” And if we needed a proof of the necessity of meditation or religious study, we have it in the fact that this terrible preacher, Death, is always in our midst, speaking with no uncertain voice, and yet thousands “do not heed him. They go on loving the world and sin, though they know and believe that death must come soon and put an end to both. In this study of Death I may take as my text that striking saying of Job: “When man is dead and stripped and con- sumed, I pray thee, where is he?” Or this saying: “O Death! of all things the most terrible, because the moment upon which depends eternity.” Having asked grace, light to see the important bearings of this truth on myself, and strength to carry out the resolutions forced on me by them, I begin my study. (1) I rest on the fact that death is the most certain of all things. it must come to me-I must die. Death will “strip” me of all earthly things, even those most loved, most sinned for, and most sinned by. My body shall be cast out to be “consumed” by rottenness and vermin.

My soul must go forth and face the just and avenging Judge. (2) I rest on the truth that death, though the most certain of all things, is as to when, where, or how, the most uncertain of all things. (3) I reflect that the moment of death is the critical, the only critical moment of life, because “the moment upon which depends eternity.” As I am found then decides my fate, “either to exult for ever with Christ in heaven, or to weep for ever with the lost in hell.” Besides, I can die but once, and I cannot, therefore, repair in a second life the mistakes made in the first. (4) I then turn to myself, and ask and answer such questions as the following: Have I any guarantee against a sudden death, against a death-sickness in which great physical pain or unconsciousness will make a real repentance and preparation for death very difficult, if not a moral impossibility. Can I safely hope for or risk a deathbed repentance? In what state am I this moment? In mortal sin, perhaps, or drifting towards it, or in a very doubtful and unsatisfactory state of conscience and soul. if so, what conclusion is forced upon me by right reason and common sense? is it not to repent now, and to be about it, to put myself right with God, and in the future to use the means necessary that I may keep myself always ready for this dread summons, so awful because so far-reaching and so uncertain? I may use with great, effect parables which will bring home the study, so as to make me surprised with or ashamed of myself. if some temporal loss depended on certain circumstances, would I not take the wisest precautions and protect myself against them? if a serious illness were upon me would I not go to the limit of my means, perhaps beyond it, in order at most to prolong my earthly life for a few months or years? if I knew that an assassin was secretly and cunningly hanging about in order to murder me when off my guard would I not take every care that he should not have a chance? , But what about my soul? is not its life far more than that of the body and the unending world of heaven and hell far more than that of a passing moment? Order, therefore, thy house and keep it so.

Or, again, I take the Passion, or some scene from it. The New Testament tells me its history. By the use of memory and imagination I can picture it to myself, and then by the use of the Intellect and will I study, reason over it, draw my conclusions, and form my practical resolutions. (1) I rest on the question, Who suffers? The Eternal Son of God. (2) How did He suffer? Most really, most keenly, most intensely, in that human nature which He took, which was His, just as mine is mine, and in which He felt pain, torture, agony, just as I should if subjected to similar torments, but more intensely than I could. He suffered as if He were only man, and all the more because He was God. I can imagine myself subjected to only one of His tortures, the scourging, or the nailing to or hanging on the Cross, and try to realise how I should feel. What then of Him racked in every capability of suffering-body without and soul within-as long as human nature could endure, by so many tortures. (3) For whom does He suffer? For me, for love of me; for love of me, a sinner, and His enemy. He suffers to atone for my sins, to redeem, to buy me out of slavery, at the highest price He could pay-His heart’s blood and His life; to merit graces for me, which, if rightly used, will lift me out of hell and enthrone me in heaven. (4) I should then honestly and severely study and examine myself. How have I treated Him? What have I done for Him? What return have I made for His Immense unselfish love of me? Forgotten, ignored, sinned against Him, seldom thinking of, seldom speaking to Him, meanly and selfishly gratifying my own will in open opposition to His. Could I bring myself, from mere human motives, to so treat a man who had willingly sacrificed one finger or one hand for love of me? How should I feel if a man, for love of whom I had suffered, treated me as I have treated Our Lord? Am I to make less of my God tortured unto death for love of me and of His infinite love, than of a mere man and his human love? Am I to make less of ingratitude in myself to God than of ingratitude of a fellow man to myself? Greater love of Jesus Christ should be the result of meditation on the Passion: and when we find in Catholics, instead of love, coldness, indifference, offensive conduct, we may trace these to the fact that they have not studied Him, and therefore do not really know Him. He is not the reality to them that their fellow men and material things are.

I have given, as best I could, what religious study or meditation is: a very simple thing. And also a few examples to show that any fairly instructed Catholic layman may make such without any great difficulty. But I must go farther, for I can safely assert, on the unanimous opinion of great spiritual writers, an opinion backed out by experience, that men living In the world, particularly the educated and wealthy, exposed, as they usually are, to grave temptations, must be men of religious thought, if they desire to be true practical Catholics.

Holy Scripture has many texts to prove this. Isaias writes: “Harp and viol and timbrel and song and wine in your feasts, and the work of God you regard not, nor consider the work of His hands. Therefore hath hell enlarged her soul and opened her mouth, without any bounds, and their strong ones and their people, and their high and glorious ones shall descend into it.” So, says Father Parsons, the Prophet speaks of the careless, thoughtless nobility and gentry of Jewry. King David was a man of the world and of war, and at one time a great sinner. Yet, he became the model penitent and a saint. He tells us how, “I meditated in the night in my own heart and I cleansed my soul” “I meditated on Thy works, OLord, that I might not forget them, and I buried them in my heart that I might not sin for ever.” “Unless Thy law, O God, had been my meditation, I had then perhaps perished.” In the New Testament Our Lord, and His inspired Apostle, St. James, denounce those who hear the Word, and therefore know it, but do not do it.

Our Lord calls them fools, like to the man who built his house on sand, which, of course, becomes a ruin under the pressure of the first storm. it won’t do to look at a truth as a man looks into a mirror, and though finding, or rather clearly seeing that something is wrong, face dirty, coat torn, goes away and forgets all about it and leaves things as they were. But if a man, by looking on them again and again,”hath continuedtherein,” and by studying them often had, like David, “buried them in his heart that he might not forget them,” he will become “a doer of the Word and shall be blessed in his deed.” In a word, we have the authority of God and of His gifted servants who have written on this subject for stating that men In the world cannot hold their own and be good practical Catholics, unless they be men of religious thought, study, reflection. But a man who reflects on God, on Our Lord, on their love for Him and His necessary relations with them, on the malice of mortal sin, and its awful punishments, will not sin forever.

One word more. There are many texts in Holy Scripture by which we seem to be commanded “to pray always,” “to never fail in prayer,” to “pray without ceasing.” is this possible? is it possible to pray always? Certainly, and easy to do so; I shall briefly explain how this can be done. I presume that a man is in the state of grace, the friend of God. Well, if he, besides his ordinary prayers, has that purity of intention by which he does all his daily works for God, he prays always. Let me suppose that a man offers up all his thoughts, words, and actions to God. He can do this when he awakes or is dressing, and can do it in one short sentence. We are bound to do our works for God, as the Apostle says: “Whether you eat or whether you drink, or whatever else you do, do it for God.” Note, he mentions here the most animal things of our nature, eating and drinking. “Whatever else you do”-your business life, your recreation, your sleep, etc. it is not a mere opinion, but the certain teaching of theologians—I might say of the Church-that everything done with this intention by one in the state of grace is meritorious, just as prayer is. Hence, the old-time saying: “Laborare est orare,” “to labour for God is to pray.” And the prayer of the brain and of the hand is generally more difficult than the prayer of the heart and lips, and therefore the more meritorious. Nor is this purity of intention a difficult thing-nay, it is very easy. Make the short morning offering, and let God be the dominant motive in all your actions. I emphasise “dominant,” because human motives will, of course, come. They are often not bad, and are help; but keep them in their place; do not allow any of them to become the dominant motive. Offer all to God, and then do not throw Him over for any one else. Besides, when a man in the world does his work, whatever it may be, for God, he is more likely to do his work well, and to be a success, even in this world, than a man who ignores God. Let a person, therefore, be faithful to his daily prayers and do all his works for God, and his life is really an unbroken prayer-an unbroken prayer, even though when doing his work he does not for hours think of or say a word directly to God. The morning offering has offered it up, and this is sufficient.

And so, surely, from this little book is clear that prayer, real prayer, is not hard, that with a little good will one finds that prayer is pleasant and prayer is easy.

Nihil Obstat:

William M. Collins, Censor Deputatus

Imprimatur:

@ D. Mannix,

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis 1948

********

The man who prays will be saved; the man who does not pray will be lost.

Prayers Are Always Answered

DANIEL A LORD, S.J

INDEX

When we were youngsters, we all envied Aladdin.

What wonderful luck that chap had! First he finds himself a wishing ring, and then he stumbles on to a wonderful lamp, and both times things begin to happen.

He rubs the ring and up pops a jinnee. “I am the slave of the ring,” cries the monstrous but benign figure, “and whatever you command I shall do.”

A little later, when he polishes the lamp, an even more powerful jinnee puts in an appearance, and anything that his master wishes is instantly fulfilled.

Lucky Aladdin! Every boy and every girl that ever read his adventures dreamed that some day they would stumble over a ring or find in some alley junk heap a wonderful lamp, and the simple process of rubbing vigorously and insistently would mean that all their wishes were going to be realised.

WISHING

That is why, as youngsters, we went around eternally wishing. We wished on loads of hay. We wished on redheaded girls and white horses-a simply miraculous combination that meant certain luck. We watched for the first star, and when it appeared, we cried out:

“Star light, star bright, First star I”ve seen tonight, Wish I may, wish I might, Have the wish I wish tonight.”

Then we kept strict silence until we had made our wish and looked around to find the second star that established the charm.

Besides, every one of us who ever met the charming characters of the fairy tales was sure that some evening a fairy godmother would arise out of the darkness. Cinderella had one, and so had Prince Charming. So why not we? Our fairy godmother would cry: “You may have one wish, and only one wish. But whatever that one wish is, I shall fulfil it perfectly.”

ONE ONLY WISH

One wish, and only one wish! What possibilities that opened! We hesitated whether we should ask for a solid-gold piano studded with diamonds or the beauty of Cinderella herself (if we were girls); we hesitated between a complete baseball outfit and the strength of Hercules (if we were of the masculine conviction). But only one wish. That was so limited!

Then a sudden inspiration came to us. It is the same inspiration that comes to every boy and girl, and every boy and girl thinks it completely original. We realised we could combine the limited generosity of the fairy godmother with the limitless possibilities of the magic ring or lamp. We’d fool “em!

When the fairy godmother finally did appear, we would put it this way: “Did you say I could have one wish, and only one wish? Then this is what I wish: “I wish that henceforth everything that I wish shall come true.”“

Nothing could be more satisfactory than that.

Alas, and very sadly alack, we never found the ring, nor did we stumble on the lamp. While fairy godmothers were so numerous in the fairy tales that they tripped over one another’s wands and got into one another’s spells, none came fluttering into our lives. No. And no fairy queens, either; and no dwarfs to whom we gave a glass of water, and who rewarded us with jewels that popped out of our mouths every time we uttered the most commonplace statement. (Most of us were not sure that that was an unmixed blessing. Imagine making some simple remark over the soup, and being obliged to fish two or three diamonds and a half-dozen rubies from among the alphabet noodles!)

Now, fairy tales are, experience teaches us, remarkably true. As life goes on they have a way of becoming realities. They are the stories that men built up out of their desires. And God does not give right desires, even desires that may seem a little selfish, without meaning in some way to fulfil them.

SUDDEN LIGHT

So one day it suddenly dawns upon every follower of Christ that he wears a wishing ring on his finger. More than that, he comes to the astounding, but entirely pleasurable, realisation that this “wish that every wish he wishes come true” is quite within the realities. Yes, he wears a wishing ring, and we can be certain that every wish properly made will be fulfilled.

The most instinctive gesture when one wants something very badly is to f old one’s hands. As one pleads for a thing, one rubs those hands together feverishly. In real distress, one wrings one’s hands violently.

Well, when a man folds his hands in prayer, rubs them feverishly together as he pleads with God, begs so hard that he actually seems to wring his hands, he can actually believe that he wears a wishing ring upon his finger, and that what he prays for will be infallibly granted.

CERTAINTY

For attached to prayer is a promise that makes real and certain our desire that everything we wish comes true. Attached to prayer is the glorious promise made by Christ, a promise to which we pay so little attention, even though it actually is the fulfilment of our child-like dream, a dream from which, as a matter of fact, we never wake.

“Whatsoever you ask the Father in My Name,” said Jesus Christ, “He will give you.”

That is the most remarkable promise that God on earth could have made. Equivalently, it is as if Christ had said: “On your finger I am placing a magic ring. Rub it through devout prayer, and your wishes will be fulfilled.” It is like the appearance of Christ as an incredibly powerful benefactor who says with a vast, sweeping inclusiveness, “Henceforth, anything that you ask you may be assured with certainty will be yours.”

CHRIST INSISTS

Christ evidently meant to be insistent on this power of prayer. He wanted to reassure a doubting world that God was more anxious to fulfil the wishes of men than men actually were to present their wishes to Him. He seemed to insist that all that was lacking was man’s willingness to ask. About the Heavenly Father’s willingness to give there could not be the slightest doubt. Would men ask?

So, elsewhere, He repeated on more than one occasion: “Ask and it shall be given you . . . that your joy may be full.” He used other comparisons. He begged us to knock so that the welcoming door of God’s generous House would be opened to us. He instructed us to seek for what we want; if we sought it where all riches are to be found, in the great heart of our generous Father, we would find all we are looking for.

AND SMILES

Indeed, Christ, on one occasion, seems to have treated the subject with delightful humour. It was as if He thought the importance and value of prayer so worth stressing that He would point it with laughter. He tells the story of the well-to-do householder who turns in for the night. His doors are locked. His cupboards are closed. He is deep in his first slumbers, and all his servants are safely tucked into bed.

But his next-door-neighbour has had an unexpected guest. The visitor is fresh from the road, and, consequently, hungry. Unfortunately, the neighbour finds himself without even a loaf of bread to slice for his uninvited guest. So he comes to the door of his well-to-do friend and pounds for admittance.

We can imagine the sleepy man awakened by the noise of the pounding. He rolls in annoyance and tries to sleep. The noise continues. Finally, in anger, he gets up and leans out of an upper window. The neighbour explains that he simply must have some bread. The aroused householder glares at him and shouts back the quite obvious answer: “Don’t you see that the house is locked and my servants are in bed, and you’ve just pulled me out of a deep sleep? No; I will not go down, open up my chests, rummage around in the dark, and get you and your bothersome guest food. Not at this hour of the night. Now get away and let me sleep!”

Whereupon he stumbles airily back to bed.

PERSISTENCE WINS

With amusing persistence, the neighbour declines to give up. He has come for those loaves, and he’s going to get them, no matter what the man thinks. So he pounds again. This time the householder is furious. He rises and threatens violence. Again he climbs into bed, and we can imagine him pulling the bed-clothing up over his ears. No use. The neighbour continues to pound, to hammer on the door with his fist, to demand the bread, to make sleep impossible for both the householder and his servants, until, in sheer desperation, the sleepy man gets out of bed, fumbles with the lamp, crawls down the dark stairs, gets out the loaves, opens the door, dumps them into the waiting arms of his neighbour, and cries: “Get off, and let me sleep!”

Triumphantly, the neighbour, his arms filled with loaves, marches home. If he couldn’t get his friend to give the food out of friendship, he had made it so uncomfortable for him that he gave it for the sake of peace and a little sleep.

BOTHER GOD

There was, we can be quite sure of it, a smile on the lips of Christ as He drew the conc lusion: “If you, being evil, do these things, what shall your Father, being good. . . .”

And it is not likely that any of the listeners ever forgot Christ’s suggestion that, when they wanted something badly enough, they were wise to keep pounding at the gates of heaven until they got what they wanted. Christ seemed, with delightful humour, to urge them, if need be, “to bother God.”

CHRIST SO ACTED

That was the theory of prayer as Christ laid it down again and again in His teaching. His practice as the generous Godman Who gave His beloved brothers and sisters anything they might need, even if it was His life’s blood, was a continuous confirmation of His teaching. The most obvious fact in the whole Gospel is that no one ever asked Christ for anything without getting an immediate response. “Lord, my servant is ill.” “I will come and heal him.”

“Lord, my daughter lieth sick.” “Take Me to her.” Lepers silently stood by the wayside asking for a cure. They received it. Nicodemus came by night asking for truth. He went away, his mind filled with the most glorious truths. The multitude on the hillside looked up at Him hungrily; He fed their souls with the glorious Sermon on the Mount, and then fed their bodies with the multiplication of the loaves and fishes.

Only once did He seem even to hesitate. That was when the pagan woman sought a cure. He feigned for the moment to turn away, as if unwilling to grant her request. But she knew His Heart. Perhaps she had even, from the outskirts of some crowd, heard His delightful parable of the householder roused from sleep and angrily slinging at his neighbour the bread he demanded. She pressed Him. She kept on begging. He needed only one more request. The miracle was hers, and the cure had been wrought.

Certainly, if the life of Christ indicated anything, it indicated very clearly that Christ was far more eager to give than men were to ask, This is significant, for we know that the life of the Saviour was lived in fulfilment of just what He knew His Father wanted Him to do.

THE CERTAIN POWER

With years in the practice of one’s religion there grows a deepened belief in the power of prayer. At first we accept on faith the promise that whatsoever we ask will be given to us. Gradually we get to feel that it is a truth we can prove from experience. Prayer is infallibly answered: that is all there is to it. People pray, and God listens. People present their needs, and God removes those needs. They place their requests at the feet of God, and God grants them.

CONTEST

In fact, a man who prays gets to feel a little like one of the characters in Sir J. M. Barrie’s charming book, “The

Little White Bird.”

David, the little boy, is with his guardian in Kensington Gardens. David’s young friend is playing with him. They are jumping, each trying to outdo the other. The improvised athletic contest interests the guardian, who finally says: “I”11 give a shilling to the boy who jumps the farther.”

They both grit their teeth, exert their young muscles and jump. David jumped quite a bit farther than his little friend.

David looks embarrassed. He wants the shilling very much indeed. But he holds back his hand. Then he shakes his head vigorously.

“Sorry, sir, but I can’t take it. You see, sir, I cheated.”

“Cheated?” His guardian is dumbfounded. “Why, David, you couldn’t have cheated. I watched you both. You tried fairly, and you won fairly.”

“Not fair” David replies. “I cheated. I was bound to win. You see, before I jumped, I prayed.”

GLORIOUS CHEATING

And as life goes on, the man who prays begins to feel that he, like young David, in a kind of glorious way, has cheated. Like the ancient David, he has winged his pebble with the power of God. He has fought life’s battle with the backing of invisible legions of angels. Life has been a success in all the finest sense of success, because God has been on his side. Prayer has made him stronger than the strongest of his adversaries. Prayer has been the unseen power that drove through the impregnable obstacles and scaled the insurmountable walls.

THE MURDERER AND THE NUN

Some few years back, the country was shocked by an appalling murder. A young man killed a little girl in a most bestial way. The lad’s relatives called upon a young attorney to handle the case. Almost reluctantly the attorney took it, though the murderer’s chances were zero and the attorney had to leave his home city to defend him.

Before he left, he called on his sister, a nun, who, because of ill-health, had for a time been relieved of active duty. He told her of the case and how slight the chances were of winning it. The sister smiled and said:

“Do what you can for the boy. And if you can’t save his life, maybe you can save his soul:”

The young attorney almost laughed aloud.

“That sort of murderer? Why, he has no morals and certainly no faith. What can I do for his soul!”

“Try,” said the nun. “You work on the case. I”11 pray for his soul.”

The attorney found the lad’s ease utterly desperate. He refused to co-operate. He was sullen and bitter. He was clearly guilty, and quite callous both to his crime and the consequences that lay ahead. The attorney did his best, but the idea of doing something for the murderer’s soul persisted in his consciousness: Pious idea, he thought; but what’s the use of wasting time on it?

VICTORY

The case swept along to a certain con clusion. The murderer sat sullenly through the lawyers” duels. Witnesses piled on facts. He didn’t care. He made no effort to face either the present or the future.

But the nun prayed for the criminal who did not pray for himself.

Then, one evening, he sent for his lawyer. His whole manner and attitude had changed. He sat quietly and almost with a smile.

“I just sent for you,” he said, “because I don’t want you to push my case. I want to die. I did it, and the least I can now do is to give my life to God as a return for my crime.”

The young attorney looked at him in astonishment. A return to God?

“Would you mind getting me a priest?”

A priest came. The young man took religious instructions, became a Catholic, took his sentence of death with a gesture of willing submission, and walked up the gallows steps into the presence of a forgiving God. The nun had won just another of the countless miracles of prayer.

ACROSS THE TABLE

Across the operating table from the nun stood a surgeon. They had worked together for years, this famed surgeon and the nun who handled his more difficult cases. As they operated, the doctor would often look up at her quizzically and say:

“Funny, Sister, but in all our operations we’ve never yet found a soul, have we?”

The nun always replied simply: “We’ll find yours before you die, doctor. You can’t get away. I”m praying for you.”

To which he had one stock answer:”You’d better save your prayers for someone that’s a possibility. I”m not.”

He left for a holiday, and, after the lapse of a few days, the word came back to his hospital that he had suddenly been taken violently ill and had died. The nun went to the chapel and made her great act of faith:

“I”m sure, dear Lord, that You saved his soul. At the end You gave him the Faith.” And then, womanlike, she added: “But could You let me know for certain?”

God did let her know. After a few hours the word came. He had been taken to a hospital run by nuns; himself sent for the priest. He had been baptized, received the Last Sacraments, and died.

In the chapel, the nun who had prayed knelt again, this time in gratitude. “Thank You, dear Lord, for his soul,” she said.

Another miracle of prayer was counted up.

INSTANCES PILE UP

As a priest moves through life he comes constantly in contact with these miracles of prayer-men becoming Catholics as the result of a lifetime of prayer by a devoted wife; apparently hopeless illnesses turned, with miraculous speed and completeness, from their normal course back to health; careers shaped towards success as a result of a retreat spent before the careers were entered upon; dangers sharply deflected; death stayed as if by a lifted hand; difficulties swept away whose solutions seemed absolutely beyond human power; success caught up out of certain failure. From experience the priest grows to feel more and more certain that Christ made no idle promise when He said: “If you ask the Father anything in My name, He will give it to you.”

Gradually he becomes convinced, by a kind of experimental proof, of the power of prayer and God’s infallible answer to prayer that comes from deep faith and childlike confidence. Prayer cannot fail.

IT DOESN’T WO RK

At this point the individual is likely to enter a protest.

“That’s not true. I asked for that important favour, and I didn’t get it. I”ve been praying for this grace for years, and

God has not answered. I know a wife who prayed all her life for the conversion of her husband, and he died without the Sacraments. We can see all around us that God does not answer prayers.”

God does not always give people the thing for which they pray. That is obvious. In fact, it is wonderfully fortunate for us that He does not. Besides, God does not always let us know that our prayers are answered. He leaves, in some cases, the full answer to be learned in eternity. Yet His promise remains. He will answer all prayer.

In fact, it might be clearer if we reworded slightly the truth that God grants whatever we ask. It might be better if we put it this way: No prayer is ever wasted. Every prayer is heard. We may be absolutely certain that if we ask anything from God, He will give us what we ask or something better.

“BUT I WANT THIS”

At that, something like a groan arises from human hearts. So that’s the joker. We ask for something. We don’t get it. We get something better. “Who,” protests the person who wants this particular thing very, very much-”who wants something better? I want this thing I am asking for. I don’t want any substitutes. I want just this, and God is not answering my prayer if He thinks I am going to be satisfied with something else.”

How lucky it is for us that God does not always give us what we ask for! We should be in the worst possible position if we could control what comes to us along life’s way. For we cannot see the future. We have no real way of knowing what is going to be for our good. When it comes to picking things for ourselves, it is astounding how badly we pick and how mistakenly we plan. On the other hand, the thing we did not want nor plan nor expect may be exactly the blessing that makes us wonderfully happy and remarkably fortunate.

GOD KNOWS BEST

God sees the future. When I lay a request at His feet, He might be quite the cruellest of beings if He granted it. The man on whom this young woman has set her heart might, if she married him, turn out to be the very person who would wreck her life. Health at this moment may seem enormously important. Yet sickness may be (as experience has shown it to be in thousands of cases) the blessing which crowns life with its richest achievements. Wealth or success may sometimes bless a life; there are times when, if it were given in answer to prayer, either wealth or success would wreck a life, spoil a home, drag children down into ruined lives, and destroy a family.

PARABLE

Let’s put the case in the form of a par able, a parable which illustrates the difference between the future as we see it and as. God, Who sometimes loves us too much to grant our request, sees it.

The important government election is just ahead. Two candidates are running, and the fight between them is intensely bitter.

The mother of one of the candidates is a devoted Catholic, and her heart is set upon seeing her son successful. He has been a grand young man who moved along in his career honestly and honourably, and with the success that he won only by his eloquence and brilliance of ability. His opponent, on the other hand, is a notorious grafter, a man who has sold out to the worst elements of the community.

So, as the election draws near, the mother goes to the neighbouring church and kneels before the Blessed Sacrament.

“Lord Jesus Christ,” she prays, “You promised that whatever we asked the Father in Your name would be granted. Now I am asking this in Your name. My son must be elected. I can’t bear to see his opponent victorious. I ask in Your name that my son may win.”

On leaving the church she feels absolutely confident that her prayer will be granted.

FAILURE

The day of the election comes. Her son is defeated by the slightest of margins. Quite clearly trickery and corruption have settled the election. Her prayer has been beaten by the crookedness of gang politicians. Her son has lost by a few hundred votes because he is honest, and in spite of her prayer.

She walks back into the church, and this time she stands. She looks up at the tabernacle and cries:

“So that is the way You keep Your promise? Never again will I believe in the power of prayer. You have deceived me. You did not keep Your word.”

The day of the inauguration dawns. The mother and her son stand on a balcony overlooking the line of march. Bitterness is in her heart and fierce resentment, almost less against the victorious candidate than against the God Who had failed to answer her prayers. Down the street comes the motor-cycle escort. Then the militia and the uniformed marchers. Finally, the open car in which rides the young man who has tricked her son out of office, smiling and lifting his hat to the crowds who acclaim him.

THE ANSWER

The car reaches the balcony. The mother’s arm tightens reassuringly around the shoulders of her son. She so hates all that man in the motor stands for!

Suddenly there is a little flurry in the crowd. A man cuts out, leaps on to the steps of the automobile, and, before anyone can make a move, empties an automatic into the body of the man in the car. Without a sound the victorious candidate slumps forward and slips to the floor. The police rush forward, their clubs swinging wildly at the head of the madman who has killed the winning candidate, not because he personally disliked him, but because in his insanity he hated all government and struck at this man whom he saw placed as a ruler above him.

And the woman on the balcony catches her son to her heart in an agony of fear and a quick spasm of gratitude. The crowd pays no attention to the door of the house that opens nor to the slightly wild-eyed woman who crashes her way through them towards the church.

She flings herself down on her knees before the tabernacle.

“O Lord Jesus,” she cries, “my thanks to You for answering my prayers, but not in the way I asked it. How terrible if You had let him win and I should thus have lost him! I prayed for a winning candidate and instead You have given me a living son.”

WE CAN’T FORESEE

We are so completely ignorant of the future that we are often praying for the success of someone who, if our prayer were answered in the form in which we put it, would thereby be doomed to lifelong misery and eternal failure. We ask for what would be the worst things we could possibly have. But God mercifully refuses to grant us our request. It would be cruel and brutal if He did not refuse. That does not mean that our prayer is wasted. It simply means that it has been transferred to some other account. Instead of what we ask, God gives us something that is really for our good. Any other course would be out of keeping with the goodness of God and His fatherly interest in His children.

Hence, the man who wisely makes any request of God always adds, either in words or in the sentiment of his will: “I am asking this, with submission, of course, to Your knowledge of whether or not it is a good thing for me to have. If it isn’t, I will be quite content with whatever You send as a substitute.” That is only the commonest of common sense. It is the mere admission that we can’t see the future and that we have the most surprising faculty for setting our hearts on what is going to be terribly bad for us.

NOR ALWAYS SEE

God does not always let us see the results of our prayers. There is no simple process like putting a dollar in the slot and getting the article we want. God tests our faith as God invariably tests the faith of His friends. He does not always answer prayer visibly. People die without any sign of conversion. The prayers for their conversion are not lost. That we shall find in eternity. “Whatsoever you ask,” Christ said, and in this case we pray for something that is clearly good. Of course, God cannot force even the conversion of a man. But we can be absolutely sure that the man got grace and that God has cared for his soul. Our act of confidence in God is the magnificent tribute of a child to a Father Whose word he accepts even when he has, as in this case, no clear proof that the word has been carried out.

Prayer is never wasted, never lost, if it is said with the proper dispositions of heart. Unfortunately, many people say prayers as if they were a series of formulas possessing magic properties. Their prayer is so lacking in the essentials of a decent request that if it were addressed to a fellow man it simply could not be granted.

SINCERITY

Prayer must be sincere. We must really want the thing for which we ask. Surprisingly enough, we frequently do not. That is especially true when people pray to be delivered from some insistent temptation.

They pray, “Lead us not into temptation,” but they are mentally adding, “However, don’t take me too seriously, Lord. It’s true, I don’t want to be led into temptation in this sense; I don’t want to fall. But temptation is rather exciting, a bit of an adventure, and I”11 play around a bit, if You don’t mind. Just see to it that I don’t commit serious sin. I don’t want to get into real trouble. Lead me not into temptation, but do let me have a little fun playing around on its fringes.”

Well, there is nothing surprising about their fall. The surprise would be if they didn’t fall. They never really wanted the thing they prayed for. They were quite fond of temptation.

“LET GOD DO IT”

So, too, you’ll find people praying for someone’s conversion, or for success in ex aminations, or for the triumphant outcome of some enterprise. They want this favour. Yes, they think they really do. But what they mean is simply this: “I want it, Lord, enough to let You take it in hand and do it for me. But if You expect me to lend my shoulder to the job-well, I don’t want it that much” God would be delighted to bring about this conversion if He saw the person who is praying for it doing anything to help the conversion along. He would give real light in examinations if He saw the student making any serious effort to master the subject. He would be delighted to crown with success an enterprise in which He saw this person taking enough interest to work hard and use the ordinary decent means that are necessary to promote its success.

CO-OPERATE, NOT SUBSTITUTE

But if the person is not interested enough to make some effort himself towards getting the thing he wants he really doesn’t want it. The fat man sitting at the table gorging himself and then lolling back in an armchair has no business lifting his eyes to God and saying: “Please reduce my waist-line.” Really, he only thinks he wants a reduced waistline; he wants it only if God will substitute a miracle for diet and exercise. The student who loafs through a semester and then spends an hour before the Blessed Sacrament begging for an “A” in his subject isn’t fooling God. He really doesn’t want what he asks for; at least, he doesn’t want it enough to do anything but substitute one hour of prayer for two hours a night of hard study.

We prove that we want a thing by using the normal means of getting it. God co-operates with the man and the woman who combine effort with prayer. God never expected to substitute a series of miracles for the work declined by the lazy person who puts the whole burden on God’s shoulders.

CONVINCED

If we expect our petition to be answered, we must come convinced that God answers prayer. Imagine a man approaching a friendand saying: “Now, I”m going to ask you to do this for me, but I realise it’s just a waste of time. You are not going to do it for me, I”m sure of that.” The friend would be so insulted that ten to one he’d turn on his heel and walk away. We don’t prelude a request with an insult.

Yet that is a not uncommon approach we make to God. “God, I”m asking You for this, but I hardly expect to get it. Maybe You’ll give it to me, but I”m not too hopeful.”

OLD TALE

There is the famous old story of the woman who read that if a person had faith enough he could say to a mountain, “Remove yourself,” and the mountain would obey. She decided that this would remedy a situation that she found very annoying. A neighbour had a tree that hung far over the fence into her yard. It was an old tree and it constantly rained leaves and twigs and bark into her trim little garden. Moreover, its shade was so dense that where the shadow fell upon her garden, nothing would grow.

So she decided to see what faith could do.

Standing at the window, she looked out into the yard and focussed all her powers upon the offending tree.

“HUMPH!”

“Lord,” she said, “You promised that, if we had faith enough, we could move mountains. I have faith enough. I have so much faith that I am saying to that tree: “Remove yourself to the other side of that neighbour’s yard. Lord, I believe You’ll do it. When I awake tomorrow I expect to find the tree completely changed. That’s how strong my faith is.”

She slept peacefully and awoke in the morning. Her first act was to rush to the window to see the effect of her faith on the tree. The tree was exactly where it was the preceding night, still dropping twigs and heavy shade into her garden. Her faith had not worked.

She gazed in disgust for a minute and then she snorted.

“Humph!” she said. “That’s just what I expected.”

PRELUDE WITH INSULT

Too, too many of us start our prayer with the insulting prelude: “I”m asking this, but if You don’t give it to me, that’s just about what I expect.” In that case, the miracle would be if God worked against our incredulity. Even Christ did not perform His miracles in those cities which refused Him their faith. Recurrently in the Gospel we find that in certain places He did no healing and performed no wonders “because of their lack of faith.” God can hardly be expected to answer the prayer of a person who really does not believe that God answers prayer.

ASKING GOD TO SIN

It is astonishing to find people praying to God for things which are wrong and sinful. That always sounds a little like the ignorant brigands who came to the priest to ask him to bless the daggers they meant to use in assassinating their enemies.

It is really only fair that a man stop to inspect the morality of the favour he is asking God.

Is there anything wrong or sinful in what he asks? He may be asking God to become partner in a shady business enterprise and to bless with success a dishonest deal. She may be asking God to facilitate a relationship that is not pure or to prosper a love affair that is far from honourable and fine.

Is there on his own part an honourable intention in what he does? Does he ask this because he feels it will be for the good of himself and of others? So much of motive, good and bad, is mixed into everything we do. The young woman who prays for a fur coat because she has grown fiercely jealous of her rival may think she needs the fur coat to keep her warm She is really asking God to wrap it around her jealousy. A young man who asks for success in an examination because he wants to strut before the college as the chap with the big brain is hardly asking God to further a noble ambition.

Hence, it is a good idea to ask oneself why one wants this or that favour. God can hardly be expected to further our vanities and our selfish ambitions. He would be a poor sort of Father if He did.

“GIMME”

What, I ask myself, will I myself do with this thing if I get it? Often enough, like children, we reach out our hands for things which, if we got, we should find utterly useless. The “gimmies” are the commonest of human diseases. Just the desire to have, to get, to possess dominates so much of our striving. If the already attractive girl begs God to make her hair curly; if the millionaire torments God for a few extra millions; if the man and woman who have much already pester God for more-for things they don’t want and can’t really use-they are just imposing on His goodness.

An honest investigation of what we ask of God might make us more than a little ashamed of the selfishness and self-seeking and petty greed and vanity that inspire a great many of the requests that bring us running in prayer to God. If parents often smile in amusement at the requests of their children, and if later on they come to marvel that children can keep asking for so much and developing such a series of demands, we cannot help but wonder what God thinks of the clamours and petitions and petty grabbings of His children.

EVEN TO THE UNGRATEFUL

We have no record that Christ ever refused a miracle because He knew that people would fail to thank Him. He cured the ten lepers though He was fully aware that only one of them would return. His miracles were for all men though only twelve men threw in their lives with His cause, none of whom were among those He had touched with the deep benefit of a miracle.

So probably God will go on bestowing His generous answers to prayer even when those who receive the favours never so much as toss Him a nod of thanks.

But have you ever stopped to figure how many people promise the most extraordinary things if God will give them this or that? And once they have received this or that, and frequently these and those as well, they give their promise not a second thought. They promise novenas of thanksgiving, Masses to be said at definite altars, acts of charity and mortification-anything they think will add a sort of bribery to their prayers. They get their request, and they pay none of their debts. Or they stop payment after a few paltry instalments. How many unpaid debts must be written in the accounting books of God!

FORGETFUL

Promises are easily forgotten. That is not surprising. But the crass ingratitude that accompanies and follows our prayers is simply astounding. The fervour with which we pray is usually matched by the complete coldness that follows God’s granting of our request. We weary ourselves, and, as far as we can, God Himself with our demands. God is surely never exhausted by the vehemence of our gratitude.

Probably God does not hold this against His thoughtless children. Parents continue to be generous even to selfish boys and girls. Yet even a generous parent in time grows a little weary of hearing nothing but requests that are never followed by even a wave of gratitude. And one cannot feel that God must give His favours, if not reluctantly to the ungrateful, then at least far, far more willingly to those who thank Him sincerely and from their hearts.

“IN MY NAME”

Christ uses the expression, “Ask in My Name.”

When the phrase, “In the name of” precedes a proper name, that name has a special significance. We remember when Ethan Allen stormed the British fort at Ticonderoga, he thundered on the gates with, “Open in the name of Jehovah and the Continental Congress.” By which he meant that back of him and his ragged men he felt he had the power of God and the might of the newly-united States battling for their liberty.

“In the Name of Christ Thy Son” is not, then, just a formula. It is not something to be rattled off thoughtlessly and casually. The Church uses the phrase in all its important prayers. At Mass, the great prayers end with the invocation, “Through Christ Our Lord. Amen.” The meaning of this is clear. Back of the prayers and the petition, those who pray feel that they have the power and approval of Jesus Christ. They ask, not of themselves alone, but in partnership with the Son of God, Whom the Heavenly Father cannot refuse.

The man who prays, as he calls upon the Name of Christ, really enters into a sort of partnership with Jesus. “Heavenly Father, I ask Thee for the conversion of my wife, through Christ Thy Son.”

AND PARTNERSHIP

There is tremendous meaning in this.

Says the man: “I am asking for the conversion of my wife, and I”m doing this in partnership with Christ More, I am asking Christ to intercede for me. He loves souls. He died for souls. He wants the soul of my wife. So I feel safe in asking Him to intercede with You, Heavenly Father, to win this soul for His cause.”

Naturally, then, when we ask Christ to co-operate with us in gaining a request, we must regard the request as something important. We must see in it something significant enough to be of concern to Christ. We should almost be able to recognise it as one of the things which were close to the Heart of the Saviour.

OF REAL CONCERN

That is broader than it first may sound. All that works for the salvation of souls, Christ wanted and wants. What concerns human happiness is dear to Him. The peace and joy of His followers, their health and prosperity, in so far as these do not interfere with their eternal destiny, are His concern. So there is a wide sweep to the interests we are safe in taking to Christ. Broad, indeed, are the concerns into which we may invite the partnership and co-operation of the Saviour of the world.

It does seem a little absurd, though, to invite Christ to co-operate with us in obtaining some trifling favour. The girl prays that a night at the party will full of suitors is a quite natural girl. The girl who prays that Christ may safeguard her from sinning or being the occasion of sin to anyone at the party is praying according to the Heart of Christ. The young man who prays that dad will let him have the car tonight is really involving the God-man in a pretty trifling business. The young man who, as he starts a motor trip, prays that he may return safely and in the grace of God, brings to the attention of Christ something that interests Him enormously.

HE IS INTERESTED

Still, it will not do to restrict this too narrowly. God is interested in us with a fatherly interest, and what may be trifles in themselves matter to a father if they are of even passing concern to his children. Christ is our elder Brother, and fine elder brothers don’t regard as trivial and frivolous anything that engrosses the interest or enthusiasm or inspires the fear and causes the worry of his little brother and sister. We are safe in trusting our affairs, all of them, to God. As we grow in wisdom, we are more likely to judge what is important and what is too trifling to engross our interests or to call upon the attention of the God of heaven and earth.

“MAGIC FORMULAS”

In all this the difference between real prayer of petition and the spiritual “magic formulas” must be clear. Quite a bit of superstition sometimes creeps into the lives of very good people. They hear somewhere that if you say such and such a prayer for thirty days you’ll get whatever you ask. A novena to such a saint is sure to get a husband. A definite prayer to this apostle works like the hocus-pocus of a magician and pulls money out of empty hats. If you say a certain prayer in a certain way every night, you can go pretty much to the dogs, but in the end the formula will work and you’ll be snatched from the burning. It isn’t particularly a matter of prayer, but of a particular prayer. The quality of the prayer, its faith and intensity, is not important; but its quantity is essential.

God never promised that He would answer a petition just because it was backed by a certain prayer, however lovely, said a definite number of times. There is no magic charm attached to a formula even repeated a mystic number of times. There is room here for dangerous superstition.

Quite obviously, there are prayers so worded, either by Christ Himself or the Church or holy men, that they powerfully and beautifully present our needs to God. They say eloquently what we ourselves might say falteringly. The repetition of these prayers is efficacious, not because they have some mysterious power coming from the telling-off of a mystic number of prayers, but because each time they are said the petition is expressed forcefully and with a deepening impression on the person who makes it.

SPIRIT COUNTS

It is the intensity of the spirit back of the prayer that matters. A prayer of petition may be said only once and yet be said with such faith and desire that it is sufficient to move the Heart of God. A formula may be thoughtlessly repeated a hundred times, some beautiful prayer may be rattled off seven times seven or nine times nine without any effect whatsoever. It is not said with faith, with hope, with rea1 desire, and with a remembrance that we are calling in as our ally and intercessor the Christ in Whose name prayer must be recited if it is to be efficacious.

POWER

God has given to men a powerful force in prayer. Modern Protestantism of the liberal stripe has often taken the attitude that prayer is really a sort of release for the soul. It is a consoling thing, they maintain, for a man to ease his mind by talking about his soul or his needs. But prayer, they insist, has no real force or efficacy. It does not reach God. If it did, it would not affect Him.

That is not what Christ taught. He taught that through prayer we could ask for every gift, whether it be the Holy Spirit, the Third Person of the Blessed Trinity, or the daily bread upon our tables. We could use prayer to storm heaven and secure its treasures from God’s willing surrender. With prayer we could pound at the gates of God and win admission. Prayer was long enough to reach to eternity. It was strong enough to win the alliance of God’s angels and saints. It was persuasive enough to influence God in man’s favour. And through it we could win untold graces and blessings and favours for ourselves and for the whole human race.

Certainly, we can hardly be grateful enough to the merciful God Who has given us this power. We can do no less than use the power as readily as He would have us and with that power win for ourselves the things that make life happy and eternity sure.

FOR ALL

But a deeper insight into prayer at once inspires us with unselfish courage. We will use this power for others. We can pray for the whole world. Far from hugging this powerful gift to our own hearts, we will use it to win blessings for the world that does not pray, forgiveness for sinners who do not ask forgiveness, faith for those who have never heard the Name of Christ, or who have heard it only to turn away to life’s trivial pursuits, strength and God’s willing assistance for all mankind.

But one thing is sure-however we use prayer, prayer was meant by Christ to be the source of God’s countless gifts to men.

And prayers areanswered. We have Christ’s infallible promise for that. Our knowledge of the fatherly Heart of Our Lord assures us of that. The experience of advancing years proves that nothing is truer.

God’s part is clear. The only thing that remains is for us to use the power of prayer as Christ meant us to do. That way lie riches for our souls and blessings for our bodies, peace and grace for our dear ones and salvation for the world. That is the way by which we march into the treasure house of God, held open in expectation of our prayerful coming.

Nihil obstat:

F. MOYNIHAN,

Censor Deputatus.

Imprimatur:

@ DANIEL MANNIX,

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis. February 10th, 1938

********

Prayer—The Key To Salvation

HUGH J. O’CONNELL, C.SS.R

INDEX

INTRODUCTION

The most urgent and important practical lesson that can be impressed upon the mind of any man is simply this: Pray, and you will surely save your immortal soul; neglect prayer, and you will certainly be lost.

St. Alphonsus Liguori, a zealous missionary, bishop, Doctor of the Church, and founder of the Redemptorist Order, wrote a little book on prayer which he entitled: “The Great Means of Salvation and of Perfection.” Of all the wonderful books that he had written, he considered this the most important. He said that he wished a copy of it could be placed in the hands of every man and woman in the world, not for the sake of his poor book, but in order that they might learn the absolute necessity of prayer for salvation and for obtaining grace from God.

All his doctrine may be summarized in one sentence which contains all the practical wisdom of life: The man who prays is saved; the man who does not pray is lost. The saints are in Heaven because they made use of prayer; the damned are in Hell because they refused to pray.

Sad to say, there are too few souls who realize the importance of prayer. Nor is this sufficiently insisted upon by preachers, confessors, and writers. All other spiritual means, such as hearing the word of God, reading, reflecting on the eternal truths, avoiding the occasions of sin, and receiving the sacraments, are good and useful; but they will avail nothing if we forget to pray.

For, in order to perform any supernaturally good action, to overcome temptation, to practice virtue, and to observe God’s law, it is not enough that we be enlightened as to what we ought to do, and make resolutions to do it. We need, moreover, the actual assistance of God; and He gives this assistance only to those who pray, and pray with perseverance.

Thank God for the opportunity He gives to you by means of this little booklet of reflecting more deeply on the importance of prayer. For all who are saved, are ordinarily saved by this single means of grace. Resolve, then, that from this day forward you will never neglect to have continual recourse to God in prayer.

I would ask you, as you love your immortal soul, to read and re-read this booklet again and again in order that you may not forget its important lesson. If, in times past, you offended God by sin, and imperilled your eternal salvation, it was because you neglected to pray and to ask of God the grace to overcome the temptations that assailed you. If, in the future, you persevere in God’s grace and save your soul, it will be because you made use of prayer.

After having read this little booklet yourself, induce as many of your friends and neighbors as you can to read it, in order that they, too, may realize that the secret of their salvation lies in prayer.

NECESSITY OF PRAYER FOR SALVATION

There is no lesson that the Holy Scriptures bring out more clearly than the necessity of prayer. “Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and you shall find; knock, and it shall be opened to you.” (Matth. 7:7) “We ought always to pray, and not to faint.” (Luke, 18:1)”Watch and pray that ye enter not into temptation.” (Matth. 26:41)”Amen, Amen, .1 say to you, if you ask the Father anything in my name, He will give it to you.” (John, 16:23)

The reason for Our Lord’s constant insistence on the necessity of prayer is evident. Without the grace of God we can do nothing in the supernatural order. We cannot save our souls; we cannot overcome temptation; in fact; we cannot even think a good thought or perform a single good action.”Without me, you can do nothing.” (John, 15:5)”We are not suf- ficient to think anything of ourselves, as of ourselves; but our sufficiency is from God.” (2 Cor. 3:5)

Hence the Council of Trent has declared: “If anyone shall assert that without the previous inspiration of the Holy Ghost and His assistance, man can believe, hope, love, or repent as he ought, in order to obtain the grace of justification, let him be anathema.” (Session 6, Canon 3)

But the grace that man needs is given, in God’s ordinary Providence, only to those who pray for it. God has arranged it so, in order that we may be conscious of our nothingness, and remain in humble dependence upon Him. He knows, indeed, all our wants even before we express them to Him; and He is ready to help us; but He has established prayer as the condition for obtaining His grace and favors. Unless we observe this condition, the divine assistance will not be given to us. Just as a farmer cannot expect his harvest without first sowing the seed; so likewise we cannot expect to obtain from God that which we need unless we pray.

Moreover, since man’s mind has been darkened and his will weakened by original sin, he cannot long resist temptation or stay out of grave sin without the assistance of God’s grace, which is given in response to prayer. Prayer is, then, the remedy for our human weakness. For, when we pray, God gives us the strength to do that which we cannot do of ourselves.

St. Augustine wrote, in a wonderful sentence which was adopted by the Council of Trent: “God does not command impossible things; but by commanding. He suggests to you to do what you can, and to ask for what is beyond your strength; and He helps you that you may be able.”

This is, then, the sum total of practical ~ wisdom: Do what you can, and pray to God for what you cannot do. We are weak; but God is strong. When we ask Him for aid, He communicates His strength to us, and we are able to do all things, as St. Paul declared:”I can do all things in Him Who strengthens me.’’ (Phil. 4:13)

GOD GIVES TO ALL THE GRACE TO PRAY

God gives to every man the grace to pray. For He sincerely wills the salvation of every soul, and provides every man with sufficient grace to save his soul. Since prayer, as we have shown, is a necessary means for salvation, it is evident that God must give to every man the grace actually to pray. By using this all-important grace of prayer, man is enabled to persevere in keeping the Commandments, and so to gain eternal life.

This truth, that God gives to every man the actual grace of prayer as the key to salvation, is so important that we must establish clearly its foundations. For if we did not always have it in our power to pray, we would have no assurance of receiving God’s assistance, and might well despair.

That God sincerely wills the salvation of all men is evident both from the Holy Scriptures and from the constant teaching of the Church.

St. Paul says:”I desire, therefore, first of all that supplications, prayers, intercessions, and thanksgivings be made for all men . . . for this is good and acceptable in the sight of God our Savior, Who will have all men to be saved, and to come to the knowledge of the truth.” (1 Tim. 2:1–4)

Again, the Scripture says:”As I live, says the Lord, I desire not the death of the wicked, but that the wicked man turn from his way and live.” (Ezech. 33:11)

The Book of Wisdom declares:”Thou lovest all things that are, and hatest none of the things that Thou hast made.” (11:25) If God loves all men, He must certainly will that all should obtain eternal salvation, which is the greatest good of man, and the one end for which he was created:”You have your fruit unto sanctification; but your end eternal life.” (Romans, 6:22)

Moreover, the Holy Scriptures bring out clearly the fact that Jesus Christ, the Son of God, died to save all men:”The Son of Man is come to save that which was lost.” (Matth. 18:11’) “He gave Himself a redemption for all.” (I Tim. 2:6) “Christ died for all.” (II Cor. 5:15)”He is the propitiation for our sins; and not for ours only, but also for those of the whole world.” (I John, 2:2)

This doctrine that God wishes all men to be saved, and that Jesus Christ died for the salvation of all, though denied by some heretics, such as Calvin, has been taught by the Church throughout the ages. The Council of Aries, for example, pronounced, A.D. . 475: “Anathema to him that said that Christ did not die for all men, and that He does not will all to be saved.” The Council of Quercy, A.D. 853, declared: “God wills all men without exception to be saved.” This same truth was also clearly expressed by the Council of Trent, which stated that Jesus Christ died “that all men might receive the adoption of sons.”

God, indeed, sincerely wills the salvation of every soul. However, thiswill is conditional on the individual’s avoidance of sin and use of the means of grace. If any man is lost, then, it is through his own fault, and not because of any defect on the part of God.

God likewise gives to each man the graces that are necessary for his salvation. For, if He refused these graces, He could not be said to have a true will to save all. Hence the Council of Trent has defined: “God does not command impossibilities; but by commanding He admonishes you both to do what you can, and to ask for that which is beyond your power, and by His help enables you to do it.”

Since God sincerely wills the salvation of all, and gives to all sufficient grace to be saved, it follows necessarily that He gives to every man the grace actually to pray. For prayer, as we have shown, is the necessary means for salvation. Only through prayer can man obtain the grace which is required in order to keep God’s commandments, to overcome temptation, and to avoid sin.

Every man has, then, been given by God the power to pray as the key to his salvation. If he makes use of prayer, all other graces come to him. If, on the other hand, he neglects to pray, he closes the door of eternal life upon himself.

Theologians dispute about Predestination, and about the reconciliation of God’s dominion and fore-knowledge with the free will of man. God has not found it necessary to reveal to us the answer to all the speculative aspects of these deep problems. For some, we shall find the answer only in Heaven. However, He has given us the practical answer, to which all theological systems must eventually return: Pray, and you will certainly be saved; neglect to pray, and you will certainly be lost. With this answer, we can abide in peace.

PRAYER IS THE BASIS OF HOPE

Upon prayer, then, ultimately rests the certitude of our Christian hope. Hope is that virtue by which we confidently expect from God eternal beatitude and the means necessary for its attainment. It is imposed upon every Christian, not only as a counsel, but as a command:”Trust in Him, all ye peoples.” (Ps. 61:9)”Ye that fear the Lord, hope in Him.” (Ecclus. 2:9)”Hope in thy God always.” (Os. 12:6)”Hope perfectly for that grace which is offered to you.” (I Pet. 1:13)

This hope of eternal life ought to be sure and firm, a s the Council of Trent expressly declared: “All men ought to place and repose a most firm hope in the help of God. For God, unless they fail to correspond to His grace, as He has begun the good work, so will He finish it, working in them both to will and to perform.” (Sess. 6, C.13)

This Christian virtue of hope is certain on the part of God. For God can and will save us, and has promised us all the necessary graces to enable us to obey His law, if we ask for them. It is true that hope is accompanied by fear. But this fear does not arise from God’s part, but from our own, since we may at any time fail by not corresponding as we ought, and by putting an impediment in the way of grace by our sins. Hence, we should, on the one hand, always fear for ourselves, lest we should fall into presumption by trusting in our own strength; but, on the other hand, we should always be certain of God’s good will, and of His assistance to save us, provided that we pray for it.

The motives, then, upon which the certainty of our hope is founded are the power and goodness of God, and His fidelity to His promises. Of these the strongest and most certain motive is God’s infallible faithfulness to the promise which He has made to us, through the merits of Jesus Christ, to save us, and to give us the graces necessary for our salvation, if we pray for them.

He has promised: “Ask and you shall receive. If you ask the Father anything in my name He will give it to you. He will give good things to those that ask. 1 say to you, all things whatsoever you ask when you pray, believe that you shall receive them, and they shall come Unto you.”

God has, then, bound Himself by His unfailing promises to answer every prayer that is made in the proper way. Upon this unshakable rock of God’s fidelity, the certainty of our hope is founded. He gives to each of us, as we have seen, the grace to pray. If we pray, we shall surely receive from Him all the graces that we need to overcome temptation, to avoid sin, and to attain eternal life. Our only fear need be that we will neglect to use the grace of prayer that God has given to us.

HOW AND WHEN TO PRAY

In order to obtain its infallible effect, prayer should be: 1) humble; 2) confident; 3) persevering; and 4) directed to matters conducive to salvation.

Prayer must, first of all, be humble. For it is precisely to keep us mindful of our nothingness, sinfulness, and complete dependence upon Him that God has commanded us to pray. Hence, the Holy Scriptures tell us:”God resists the proud, and gives grace to the humble.” (James, 4:6)”The prayer of him that humbleth himself shall pierce the clouds; and he will not depart till the Most High behold.” (Ecclus. 35:21)

Our prayer should, likewise, be confident. For by this we glorify the power, goodness, and fidelity of God. The Scriptures, therefore, say:”He is the protector of all that hope in Him.” (Ps. 17:31)”Blessed is the man that trust eth in Thee.” (Ps. 83:13) Our Lord instructs us:”Whatsoever you ask when you pray, believe that you shall receive, and they shall come unto you.” (Mark, 11:24) And St. Paul admonishes:”Let us go, there/ore, with confidence to the throne of grace, that we may obtain mercy, and find grace in seasonable aid.” (Hebr. 4:16) On the other hand, St. James warns us that the man who prays without confidence should not expect to receive anything of God:”For he who wavereth is like a wave of the sea, which is moved and carried about by the wind. Therefore let not that man think to receive anything of the Lord.” (1:6)

Perseverance is also required in prayer. For we never cease to be dependent upon God’s help. Therefore we should continually ask for it. Some favors, too, God grants, not the first time we pray for them, but only after repeated requests. Our Lord, therefore, has told us:”We ought always to pray, and not to faint.” (Luke, 18:1)”Watch ye, therefore, praying at all times.” (Luke, 21:36) St. Paul says:”Be instant in prayer, watching in it with thanksgiving.” (Cal. 4:2) This is the lesson which Christ wished to teach us in the parable of the man who would not give the loaves of bread to his friend until he continued to importune him. “Yet if he shall continue knocking, I say to you, although he will not rise and give him because he is his friend, yet, because of his importunity, he will rise and give him as many as he needeth.” (Luke, 11:8)

Finally, in order to be infallibly efficacious, prayer must be directed to things conducive to salvation. For God looks at all things from the viewpoint of eternity, and He will not give us anything that would prejudice our eternal welfare. Too often, in our shortsightedness, we ask only for temporal favors, some of which would not be good for us. When, therefore, we pray for such temporal things, we should be careful to add: “If it be Thy Holy Will.” Spiritual favors we can ask for without reserve.

Prayer should, then, be the breath of our soul. Conscious of our human weakness, and trusting in God’s power, good- ness, and fidelity, we should constantly turn to Him in prayer. Pray in the morning when you arise, offering the day to Him, and asking His blessing. Turn to Him often during the course of the day with short but fervent ejaculatory prayers, such as:”Incline unto my aid, O God; OLord, make haste to help me!” “My Jesus, mercy!” Say your prayers before and after meals. Recite the Rosary daily to obtain the assistance of God’s Holy Mother. And, when evening has come, kneel down and ask God’s pardon for the faults of the day, and grace to serve Him better on the morrow.

Pray especially in the time of temptation. For it is only by the grace of God, given in response to prayer, that you can long resist the assaults of the enemies of your soul. If, however, you continue to pray, you can be certain that you will not fall into sin.

Every day of our life we should pray, too, for the gift of final perseverance, that the decisive moment of death find us with the love and the grace of God in our heart. This crowning grace we should ask particularly from Mary, the Holy Mother of God. Add to your night prayers the “Hail, Holy Queen,” or one “Hail Mary” that you may obtain this grace through her intercession.

Pray, likewise, for constancy in prayer, since this is the key to all other graces. Say often:”O Lord, grant me the spirit of prayer!” “Help me to pray always!” “O Lord, grant me the grace to pray in the time of temptation!”

Teach this great lesson of the importance of prayer to others, especially to those confided to your care. For, if they learn to pray, all other good things will come to them.

CONCLUSION

With these considerations, God’s whole beautiful plan of salvation opens before our eyes. He has given us His commandments, and will grant us eternal life if we obey them. Of ourselves, due to our human weakness, we are unable to observe God’s law. However, with the help of His grace, we can save our souls: “I can do all things in Him who strengthens me.” This grace we obtain through prayer. It is in prayer, then, that we find the key to our salvation.

All the practical wisdom of life, therefore, may be summed up in that sentence of St. Alphonsus: “The man who prays will be saved; the man who does not pray will be lost. The saints are in Heaven because they made use of prayer; the damned are in hell because they refused to pray.”

Imprimi Potest:

John N. McCormick, C.SS.R. Provincial, St. Louis Province, Redemptorist Fathers

June 15, 1959

Imprimatur:

St. Louis, June 17. 1959 @ Joseph E. Ritter

Archbishop of St. Louis

********

Praying To Saints

INDEX

ISN’T THERE ONLY ONE MEDIATOR?

A charge commonly leveled against asking the saints for their intercession is that this violates the sole mediatorship of Christ, which Paul discusses: ―For there is one God, and there is one mediator between God and men, the man Christ Jesus‖ (I Tim. 2:5).

The following passage is also brought forth: ―No one comes to the Father but through Me‖ (Jn 14:6).

ONE NECESSARY MEDIATOR AND MANY INTERCESSORS

First, Christ is a unique mediator between man and God because He is the only person who is both God and man. He is the only bridge between the two, the only God-man. He is the Lamb of God whose very sacrifice reconciled man back to God satisfying the penalty of eternal damnation sin brings. Furthermore, Christ is a unique mediator between God and man because he is the Mediator of the New Covenant (Heb. 9:15, 12:24), just as Moses was the mediator of the Old Covenant (Gal. 3:19–20).

The saints’ intercession clearly does not interfere with Christ’s unique mediatorship because in the four verses immediately preceding I Timothy 2:5, Paul says that Christians should intercede: ―I urge that supplications, prayers, intercessions, and thanksgivings be made for all men, for kings and all who are in high positions, that we may lead a quiet and peaceable life, godly and respectful in every way. This is good and pleasing to God our Savior, who desires all men to be saved and to come to the knowledge of the truth‖ (I Tim. 2:1–4).

This shows that in order to have men saved, God wants us to pray and supplicate for them. This indeed is good and pleasing to Him.

In the book of Job (Job 33:21–26), we have an example of an angel acting as a mediator for a man who is about to die from sickness and sin and yet by the angel’s mediation the man is restored to his health and his righteous state, and God has mercy on the man who was spared death.

Jesus said that those who die in Christ are transformed and will be like the Angels in heaven (Mt 22:30). That implies glorified and perfected heavenly Saints will, like Angels, be ministering spirits to the people of God on earth struggling in this life (Heb. 1:14).

The Epistle to the Hebrews perfectly reflects and confirms all this:

“But you have come to . . . the city of the living God . . . and to innumerable angels . . . and to the assembly of the first- born who are enrolled in heaven, and to a judge who is God . . . and to the spirits of just men made perfect . . . and to Jesus‖ (Heb. 12:22–24). In the same way that we come to God and Jesus, we also come to the angels, our brothers and sisters on this earth in the Church, and to the spirits of just men made perfect, the saints in heaven. We come to them all by way of prayer.

WHY NOT DIRECTLY TO JESUS?

Some may grant that it is ok to pray to saints, but wonder: why not pray directly to Jesus?

Well, let us remember the teaching on the Mystical Body of Christ.

The Church is Christ’s body (Rom. 12; Eph. 2:34) or, in Our Lord’s words, branches of Him who is the vine () or, in Our Lord’s words, branches of Him who is the vine (

5). In fact, we are so radically one with Christ that He can say in Acts 9:4: ―Saul, Saul, why do you persecute Me?‖ and in Matthew 25:40: ―Truly, I say to you, as you did it to one of the least of these my brethren, you did it to Me‖.

As Christ’s members, we also are individually parts of one another ( Rom. 12:4–5). As we saw in I Timothy 2:1–4, Paul strongly encouraged Christians to intercede for many different things, and that passage is by no means unique in his writings. Elsewhere Paul directly asks others to pray for him: ―Through the charity of the Spirit, help me by your prayers‖ (Rom. 15:30–32; see also Eph. 6:18–20, Col. 4:3, I Thess. 5:25, II Thess. 3:1), and he assured them that he was praying for them as well (II Thess. 1:11). Most fundamentally, Jesus Himself required us to pray for others, and not only for those who asked us to do so but even for our enemies (Mt 5:44).

Now turn to I Corinthians 12:12–27. This is the text that refers to Christians as ―the body of Christ‖. We are so intimately one with one another that in verse 21, the text reads: ―The eye cannot say to the hand: ‗I have no need of you,’ nor again the head to the feet: ‗I have no need of you’‖.

Since the practice of asking others to pray for us is so highly recommended in Scripture , it cannot be regarded as superfluous on the grounds that one can go directly to Jesus. This is how God has designed His kingdom so that not only are we dependent on God but also on each other and especially on those glorified saints who have departed the earth to receive their eternal inheritance and rewards.

Protestants reject invocations to saints based on their wrong conception of justification. Accordingly, he who believes in Christ is covered by Christ’s justification and becomes as holy and perfect as any other believer. Therefore he does not need the help of anyone but Christ’s.

Now, this is totally un-Biblical. The following passages of Scripture show that some are closer friends of God than others and as a consequence, God rejects or listens favorably to their prayers.

―The victims of the wicked are abominable to the Lord: the vows of the just are acceptable‖ (Prov. 15:8).

―The Lord is far from the wicked: and he will hear the prayers of the just‖ (Prov. 15:29).

―When you stretch forth your hands, I will turn away my eyes from you: and when you multiply prayer, I will not hear: for your hands are full of blood‖ (Isaiah 1:15).

―Husbands, dwell with your wives considerately, paying honor to the woman as to the weaker vessel, and as to co-heir of the grace of life, that your prayers be not hindered‖ (I Pet. 3:7).

―I see how stiff-necked this people is, said the Lord to Moses. Let me alone, then, that my wrath may blaze up against them to consume them . . . But Moses implored the Lord, his God, saying: ‗Why, O Lord? . . . Let your blazing wrath die down; relent in punishing your people. Remember your servants Abraham, Isaac and Israel, and how you swore to them by your own self, saying: ‘I will make your descendants as numerousas the stars in the sky . . . ‘ So the Lord relented in the punishment he had threatened to inflict on his people‖ (Exodus 32:9–14).

―This request you have just made I will carry out, because you have found favor with Me and you are My intimate friend‖ (Exodus 34:17).

―The prayer of a righteous man has great power in its effects. Elias was a man of like nature with ourselves and he prayed fervently that it might not rain, and for three years and six months it did not rain on the earth. Then he prayed again and the heaven gave rain, and the earth brought forth its fruit‖ (James 5:16–18. See also Jer. 18:20).

Now, think of this: those Christians in heaven are more righteous than anyone on earth, since they have been made perfect to stand in God’s presence (Heb. 12:22–23); which means that their prayers are more efficacious.

God has given us a great heavenly host to help us on our earthly journey. Therefore, to claim one does not need to pray to saints is a form of pride and it dishonors God who wishes us to pass through them.

Of course we should also pray directly to Our Lord with every pressing need we have (see Jn 14:13–14). In fact, the prayers of the Mass, the central act of Catholic worship, are directed to God the Father and Our Lord, not the saints. But this does not mean that we should not also ask our fellow Christians, including those in heaven, to pray with us and for us.

Ultimately, the ―go-directly-toJesus‖ objection boomerangs back on the one who makes it: why should we ask any Christian, in heaven or on earth, to pray for us when we can ask Jesus directly?

WHY TALK TO DEAD PEOPLE?

ALIVE AND STILL MEMBERS OF THE MYSTICAL BODY OF CHRIST

Sometimes Fundamentalists object to asking our fellow Christians in heaven to pray for us by declaring that God has forbidden contact with the dead in passages such as Deuteronomy 18:10–11.

Anyone who argues that praying to a Saint is praying to a dead person doesn’t understand what Jesus has taught us: ―Have you not read what God said to you: ‗I am the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob’? He is not the God of the dead but of the living‖ (Mt 22: 30–32). (St. Luke’s Gospel 20:38 adds ―for to Him all are alive‖). Now if God is the God of the living and not the God of the dead, then how can Catholics be praying to dead people? Even though Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob each experienced a physical death Jesus said they are indeed alive.

Let us further examine the words of Jesus on the matter: ―Jesus said to her: ―I am the resurrection and the life. He who believes in me will live, even though he dies; and whoever lives and believes in me will never die. Do you believe this?‖ (Jn 11:25–26) Apparently Protestants do not since they want to make the argument that we Catholics pray to dead people!

Jesus Himself spoke with both Moses and Elias even though Moses was dead and buried for over a thousand years and Elias was taken up into heaven nearly a thousand years before Jesus was born. Jesus is our very example of Christian living. Therefore, if He spoke with departed Saints and the Bible commands us to walk as Jesus did (I Jn 2:3–6) there is no reason why we can’t speak with Saints who have overcome the world and have been perfected and glorified.

In Jeremiah 31:15–16, we see Rachel interceding for Israel hundreds of years after her death: ―Her voice was heard‖ and her prayers were answered.

There is no real distinction between the believer in human life and after human life. Saints, living or dead, are indistinguishable before God. As Scripture makes very clear, death does not separate us from the love of Christ (see Romans 8:38–39) and from His body, which is the Church (Eph. 1:23; Col. 1:24). They are, and we are, members of Christ’s body (Gal. 3:28). And there is only one body of Christ (Rom. 12:5; Eph. 4:4; Col. 3:15), not one on earth and one in heaven. When a Christian petitions in prayer, for prayer and aid from a glorified heavenly saint, he/she is communing with the saints which are still part of the body of Christ; this is no different then had they asked family and friends still here on earth to pray for them. The truly dead are forever separated from God but glorified Saints are not only, not separated from God but they are not separated from the body of Christ either! We may be bodily separated, but this does not keep us from honoring and loving our brothers and sisters and parents who have gone before us according to the Scripture’s command:

―Love one another with mutual affection‖ (Rom. 12:10).

―Bear one another’s burdens‖ (Gal 6:12).

―Let us do good to all, especially those in the family of faith‖ (Gal 6:10).

This intimate union with Christ and with one another does not cease when we die. In fact, it becomes more radical. Indeed, the saints in heaven are even closer to us than when they were here on earth, because it’s Christ who makes us one. They are free from all sin, which hinders our prayers (see Mt 17:20, I Jn 3:22, Psalm 66:18), and they are experiencing a union with God (and therefore with us) beyond anything we can fathom. ―[They are] like Him for [they] see Him as He is‖ (I Jn 3:2). As ―partakers of the divine nature‖ (II Peter 1:4) in the fullest sense, they have gifts and powers beyond what ―eye has seen [or] ear heard‖ (I Cor. 2:9).

The saints, now perfected in righteousness in heaven (see Heb. 12:23), have been put in charge of ―many things^1‖ (Mt 25:21). If we could ask them to pray for us when they were here on earth, of course we can -and should- ask them to pray for us now.

SAINTS IN HEAVEN AND ANGELS ARE AWARE OF OUR PETITIONS

Based on the following passage of Scripture: ―He who has entered into his rest, has himself also rested from his own works, even as God did from His‖ (Heb. 4:10), Protestants at times object that the saints in heaven cannot possibly be bothered by all our petitions for help.

First of all, such an attitude on the part of the saints would be selfishness. But actually, this opinion lies on a very poor understanding of the eternal bliss. Eternal bliss is not idleness; it is a participation in God’s rest who, ceasing to create did not cease to act: ―My Father works even until now, and I too work‖ (Jn 5:17).

AntiCatholic Loraine Boettner goes further: ―How can a human being such as Mary hear the prayers of millions of Roman Catholics, in many different countries, praying in many different languages, all at the same time? Let any priest or layman try to converse with only three people at the same time and see how impossible that is for a human being . . . Many such petitions are expressed, not orally, but only mentally, silently. How can Mary and the saints, without being like God, be present everywhere and know the secrets of all hearts?‖ (Roman Catholicism, 142–143).

If being in heaven were like being in the next room, then of course these objections would be valid. A mortal, unglorified person in the next room would indeed suffer the restrictions imposed by the way space and time work in our universe. But the saints are not in the next room, and they are not subject to the time/space limitations of this life.

Scripture indicates that the glorified human intellect enjoyed by the saints in heaven has a phenomenal ability to process information, dwarfing anything we are capable of in this life. This is shown by the fact that, on Judgment Day, we will review every act of our lives. But since Judgment Day is not going to take eighty years to review the events of an eighty year life (if it takes any time at all), our intellects will be able to process enormous amounts of information and experience once freed from the confines of this mortal life. And not only will we be aware of the events of our own lives, but of the lives of those around us on Judgment Day as well, for Christ stated that all our acts will be publicly revealed (Lk 12:2–3).

This does not imply that the saints in heaven therefore must be omniscient as God is, for it is only through God’s willing it that they can communicate with others in heaven or with us.

As for Boettner’s argument about petitions arriving in different languages, it is even further off the mark. Does anyone really think that in heaven the saints are restricted to the King’s English? After all, it is God Himself who gives the gift of tongues and the interpretation of tongues. Surely those saints in the Apocalypse understand the prayers they are shown to be offering to God.

The fact that Elias could come back from heaven and appear with Jesus on the Mount of Transfiguration shows that by the power of God saints have capabilities that far surpass our limitations on earth.

The problem here is one of what might be called a primitive or even childish and certainly un-Biblical view of heaven.

This is the way Scripture regards the knowledge of the deceased saints: ―When the Lamb broke the fifth seal, I saw underneath the altar the souls of those who had been slain because of the word of God, and because of the testimony which they had maintained; and they cried out with a loud voice, saying: ‗How long, O Lord, holy and true, will You refrain from judging and avenging our blood on those who dwell on the earth?’ And there was given to each of them a white robe; and they were told that they should rest for a little while longer, until the number of their fellow servants and their brethren who were to be killed even as they had been,would be completed also‖ (Apoc. 6:9–11).

We notice here that the deceased saints, in their ―soul‖ existence, both pray to God and are aware that the earth exists; that it still houses the evil people who killed them; and that their ―fellow servants and brethren‖ are still on earth and would likewise be killed.

St. John writes: ―The twenty-four elders fell down before the Lamb, each holding a harp, and with golden bowls full of incense, which are the prayers of the saints‖ (Apoc. 5:8).

Likewise, ―an angel came and stood at the altar with a golden censer; and he was given much incense to mingle with the prayers of all the saints upon the golden altar before the throne; and the smoke of the incense rose with the prayers of the saints from the hand of the angel before God‖ (Apoc. 8:3–4).

BUT IF THE SAINTS (AND ANGELS^2) IN HEAVEN ARE OFFERING OUR PRAYERS TO GOD, THEN THEY MUST BE AWARE OF OUR PRAYERS. THEY ARE AWARE OF OUR PETITIONS AND PRESENT THEM TO GOD BY INTERCEDING FOR US

Some might try to argue that in this passage the prayers being offered were not addressed to the saints in heaven, but directly to God. Yet this argument would only strengthen the fact that those in heaven can hear our prayers, for then the saints would be aware of our prayers even when they are not directed to them!

Looking at the Second Book of Maccabees we find an even more explicit example of intercession by departed and glorified Saints: II Maccabees 15:12–16 tells of a vision Judas Maccabeus has, in which he sees both Onias (a former high priest who had died) and Jeremiah the prophet (who had died over 500 years earlier) interceding, or mediating, for Israel. This passage of Scripture clearly shows us that departed Saints make intercession for those of us on earth who live their life in faith.

In closing, let us quote St. Paul’s words: ―Love never fails . . . Now we see but a poor reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known‖ (I Cor 13:8–12).

ST. GREGORY REMARKS: ―WHAT CAN WE NOT KNOW WHEN WE KNOW HIM WHO KNOWS ALL THINGS, AND WHOM ALL THINGS EXIST‖ (DIALOGUES 6, IV, 24)

St. Thomas Aquinas teaches that the knowledge and concerns of earth are ―revealed” to the deceased souls, either by their vision ofGod, or by ―any other means‖ (Summa Theologica, I, Q. 72, Art. 1, ad 5). He is referring to the fact that by God’s power the saints are made aware. Hence, each request made to a saint to pray for a specific petition on earth is made known to them by God Himself. Saints enjoy this privilege of direct communication with God because they are with Him in heaven, just as they enjoy many other privileges in heaven that we do not enjoy on earth.

IDOLATRY IS CONDEMNED IN SCRIPTURE

SAINTS EQUAL TO GOD?

Protestants argue that Catholics commit the sin of idolatry by worshipping the saints.

We are explicitly commanded at numerous points in the Bible to honor certain people:

―Honor your father and your mother, that your days may be long in the land which the Lord your God gives you‖ (Ex.

20:12. See also Lev. 19:3 , Deut. 5:16, Mt 15:4, Lk 18:20, and Eph. 6:2–3).

“You shall rise up before the hoary head, and honor the face of an old man, and you shall fear your God: I am the

Lord‖ (Lev. 19:32).

―Make sacred garments for your brother Aaron [the high priest], to give him dignity and honor‖ (Ex. 28:2). “Bathsheba bowed, and did obedience unto the king [David]‖ (I Kings 1:16).

No one would accuse these of worshipping others as gods.

Consider how honor is given in society. We regularly give it to public officials. It is customary to address a judge as

―Your Honor‖. In the marriage ceremony it used to be said that the wife would ―love, honor, and obey‖ her husband.

Letters to legislators are addressed to ―The Honorable So-andSo‖. And just about anyone, living or dead, who bears an exalted rank is said to be worthy of honor, and this is particularly true of historical figures.

If there can be nothing wrong with honoring the living, who still have an opportunity to ruin their lives through sin, there certainly can be no argument against giving honor to saints whose lives are done and who ended them in sanctity. If people should be honored in general, God’s special friends certainly should be honored.

As the terminology of Christian theology developed, the Greek term latria^3 came to be used to refer to the adoration that is due to God alone, and the term dulia came to refer to the honor or veneration that is due to those human beings who lived and died in God’s friendship—in other words, the saints. Thus, Catholics sometimes say: ―We adore God but we honorHis saints‖.

A special term was coined to refer to the special honor given to the Virgin Mary, who bore Jesus- God in the flesh—in her womb. This term, hyperdulia, indicates that the honor due to her as Christ’s own Mother is beyond the dulia given to other saints. It is greater in degree but still of the same kind. However, since Mary is a finite creature, the honor she is

DUE IS FUNDAMENTALLY DIFFERENT IN KIND FROM THE LATRIA OWED ONLY TO THE INFINITE CREATOR

STATUE WORSHIP?

Protestants say that Catholics worship statues.

Not only is this untrue, it is even untrue that Catholics honor statues. After all, a statue is nothing but a carved block of marble or a chunk of plaster, and no one gives honor to marble yet unquarried or to plaster still in the mixing bowl.

The fact that someone kneels before a statue to pray does not mean that he is praying to the statue, just as the fact that someone kneels with a Bible in his hands to pray does not mean that he is worshiping the Bible. Statues or paintings or other artistic devices are used to recall to the mind the person or thing depicted. Just as it is easier to remember one’s mother by looking at her photograph, so it is easier to recall the lives of the saints by looking at representations of them.

The use of statues and icons for liturgical purposes (as opposed to idols) also had a place in the Old Testament. In Exodus 25:18–20, God commanded: ―And you shall make two cherubim of gold; of hammered work shall you make them, on the two ends of the mercy seat. Make one cherub on the one end, and one cherub on the other end; of one piece with the mercy seat shall you make the cherubim on its two ends. The cherubim shall spread out their wings above, overshadowing the mercy seat with their wings, their faces one to another; toward the mercy seat shall the faces of the cherubim be‖. Such representations of things non-divine were used, and at the command of God. Again, there is a vast difference between making an artificial image of God and worshiping it, as opposed to representations of God as aids to spiritual truths, aids that even God Himself commands to be made.

In Numbers 21:8–9, God told Moses: ―‗Make a fiery serpent, and set it on a pole; and every one who is bitten, when he sees it, shall live.’ So Moses made a bronze serpent, and set it on a pole; and if a serpent bit any man, he would look at the bronze serpent and live‖. This shows the actual ceremonial use of a statue (looking to it) in order to receive a blessing from God (healing from snakebite). In John 3:14, Jesus tells us that He Himself is what the bronze serpent represented, so it was a symbolic representation of Jesus. There was no problem with this statue- God had commanded it to be made- so long as people did not worship it. Yes, God commanded the destruction of the bronze serpent, but only after it had come to be worshipped; it had been preserved for about 800 years before this. Once again, the problem was not with the statue, but with the worship of it. This clearly shows the difference between the proper religious use of statues and idolatry.

Jesus Himself is ―the image^4 of the invisible God‖ (Col. 1:15). Before the Incarnation, God could not be represented by an image. He was incomprehensible and invisible. But now He has become incarnate, and as such, He has opened up an entirely new economy of images not only of God, but of man as partakers of the divine nature through our union with Him (see II Peter 1:2–4, I Jn 3:2).

Protestants object that Origen, Athenagoras, Lactantius, Tertullian and Arnobius condemned the pagans for bowings before images as an act of worship.

In fact, these Fathers are not speaking only about worship to God or a false god, not to non-gods. And St. Irenaeus, who condemns the Gnostics for honoring these images the same way the Gentiles honor their pagan images is not saying that images themselves are evil. From the context of Against Heresies (chapters 20–26), he is saying that it is a contradiction for groups such as the Gnostics, who deny almost every doctrine of Christ and Christianity, to be carrying an image of Christ. Why carry an image of Christ if you deny everything that He taught?

VENERATION OF THE RELICS OF THE SAINTS

Brewer claims that ―there is nothing in the Bible that supports the veneration of relics, even if they are genuine‖. Again, not so.

One of the most moving accounts of the veneration of relics is that of the very body of Christ itself. Rather than leaving his body on the cross, to be taken down and disposed of by the Romans (as was the customary practice), Joseph of Arimathea courageously interceded with Pilate for Christ’s body (Mk 15:43, Jn 19:38). He donated his own, newly hewn tomb as Christ’s resting place (Mt 27:60). Nicodemus came and donated over a hundred pounds of spices to wrap inside Jesus’ grave clothes (Jn 19:39), that amount of spices being used only for the most honored dead. And after he was buried, the women went to reverently visit the tomb (Mt 28:1) and to further anoint Christ’s body with spices even though it had already been sealed inside the tomb (Mk 16:1, Lk 24:1). These acts of reverence were more than just the usual courtesy shown to the remains of the dead; they were special respect shown to the body of a most holy man—in this case, the holiest man who has ever lived, for He was God Incarnate. The Catholic Church has preserved with much honor relics of the Passion of Christ, such as the Holy Shroud of Turin.

The Church doesn’t say there is some magical power in relics. There is nothing in them, whether a bone of the apostle Peter or water from Lourdes, that hasany curative ability. The Church just says that relics may be the occasion of God’s miracles^5, and in this She follows Scripture: ―So Eliseus died, and they buried him. Now bands of Moabites used to invade the land in the spring of the year. And as a man was being buried, lo, a marauding band was seen and the man was cast into the grave of Eliseus; and as soon as the man touched the bones of Eliseus, he revived, and stood on his feet‖ (II Kgs. 13:20–21). This is an unequivocal biblical example of a miracle being performed by God through contact with the relics of a saint!

Similar are the cases of the woman cured of a hemorrhage by touching the hem of Christ’s cloak ( Mt 9:20–22) and the sick who were healed when Peter’s shadow passed over them (Acts 5:14–16) as well as the following: ―God did extraordinary miracles by the hands of Paul, so that handkerchiefs or aprons were carried away from his body to the sick, and diseases left them and the evil spirits came out of them‖ (Acts 19:11–12). If these aren’t biblical examples of the use of relics, what are?

Moreover, the veneration of relics is seen explicitly as early as the account of Polycarp’s martyrdom written by the Smyrnaeans in A.D. 156. In it, the Christians describe the events following his burning atthe stake: ―We took up his bones, which are more valuable than precious stones and finer than refined gold, and laid them in a suitable place, where the Lord will permit us to gather ourselves together, as we are able, in gladness and joy and to celebrate the birthday of his martyrdom‖.

Let us therefore pray devoutly to the saints and venerate their images and relics!

1. As part of their eternal reward in heaven Saints are perfected and glorified and are given nations to judge and rule over (Wisdom 3:1) just like the Prophet Jeremiah was given power to rule over and intercede for Israel in just like the Prophet Jeremiah was given power to rule over and intercede for Israel in 15.

2. These are the words of the archangel Raphael : ―When you prayed with tears and buried the dead . . . , I offered your prayersto the Lord” (Tobias 12:12).

3. ―Latria‖, according to the New Testament, is only used for God or false gods.

4. ―Eikon‖, in Greek, which gave our English word: ―icon‖.

5. Weren’t the bodies of the saints ―the temples of the Holy Ghost‖? (I Cor. 3:16–17; 6:19–20).

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Preaching Christ Crucified

BY REV. ROBERT NASH, S.J

INDEX

INTRODUCTION

A YOUNG WOMAN was kneeling in tears, for sin had broken her heart. To be sure she had no enviable reputation in the happy city where she lived. For years she had gone on on her evil way, deafening her ears to the warnings of conscience, laughing with an assumption of gaiety when her friends tried to save her, fondly talking herself into the belief that she was happy and carefree; that her beauty held many enthralled, and that she had found in the thrill and excitement of her sin all that this life held of true enjoyment.

But a change has come today. Quite suddenly, it would seem, she has decided to call a halt to this reckless chase. Today compunction has seized upon her at last, for she has listened today to a new Prophet, and never did man speak as He has spoken. His words have pierced her heart like a two-edged sword and she has found her way, indeed she has probably forced her way, into this banquet-hall where He is reclining at table. She kneels very low here, even down at His feet, and she sobs out her story of sin and shame and repentance. And Jesus bent over Magdalene that day and pronounced a sentence upon her that nearly paralysed her, so overpowering was the ecstasy of joy with which it inundated her soul. “Many sins are forgiven her because she hath loved much.”

It was a moment of extraordinary grace, and she knew that never again could she be the same Magdalene. Henceforth one longing alone will occupy her-to prove to this merciful Christ that her repentance is genuine. She arose to her feet a woman transformed. On that momentous day Magdalene took her first step on the road to high sanctity, and love beckoned her from one pinnacle to another, and ultimately it drew her on, this alluring power of a mighty love, even as far as the summits.

Saul of Tarsus hated Jesus Christ. In a paroxism of fury against Him and His followers he rode with an escort of soldiers into Damascus, bearing in his pocket the written authorisation to arrest all Christians there and bring them bound to Jerusalem. And suddenly a light from heaven shone round about him. Terrified, he fell off his horse, and, kneeling with joined hands on the dusty roadside, he there received what has well been called “an audacious grace.” The persecutor was changed into an apostle, the hater of Christ stood up and knew that on that day Christ had sown in his heart the seeds of a love stronger than death.

Henceforth Christ and His cause became for Paul a sort of obsession. Such a marvellous change! People who listened to him saw that the man was like one beside himself. “Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? . . I am sure that neither life nor death . . . nor any other thing shall be able to separate us from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus Our Lord.” He was imprisoned, shipwrecked, scourged, laughed at as a fanatic, but “in all these things we have overcome, for the sake of Him.” No power on earth or in hell can hold him now, for he carries in his great heart a very furnace of love for Jesus Christ.

This is what happened to Saul when he surrendered to that mighty grace offered him on the Damascus road. Time was hanging heavily on the hands of the wounded soldier, and he called for a book to read and while away the weary hours of his convalescence. They could find nothing to give him except a book of the lives of Christ and His Saints. These he looked at with something very like scorn. No reading for a soldier, that! However, for the want of better, he began to turn over the pages listlessly. Presently interest quickened. What a revelation this is! Here is a whole new world the existence of which he had never even suspected. Here are men and women fired with a love and a zeal for Jesus Christ beside which Don Inigo’s ambitions and schemes for greatness cut a very sorry figure indeed. Would it be possible for him, even for the worldly Spanish hildago, to serve the King of Kings and become distinguished in His service? Perhaps he too could become a saint like these other men and women? Why not?

A mighty grace was offered to him that day, and with a grateful and a generous heart he stretched out both hands to accept it. The spark of divine love had caught in his soul, and very soon it became aflame. It is the nature of fire to spread. The love within him cannot rest, and he gathers around him a group of disciples into whose hearts he fuses that fire with which he himself is aflame. They must go into the four corners of the world with a mighty ideal spurring them on-to set the entire earth ablaze with the love of Jesus Christ. Here is ambition worthy of all that is noblest in man. Here is the marvel that was wrought when a special grace descended into the soul of that wounded soldier and made the love and lovableness of Jesus Christ a reality to him.

The nun had been there for some time in the stillness of her convent chapel. Presently she opened her eyes, and to her utter amazement she saw Jesus Christ standing before her in human form. He showed her His Sacred Heart, and He told her that the flames of His love for men were so violent that they could no longer be restrained. So He had chosen her, Sister Margaret Mary, knowing that she was, as she declared, “an abyss of ignorance and weakness,” for a great mission. He desired to use her as His instrument to enkindle in men’s hearts the fire of His divine love. Would she allow herself to be used thus?

No wonder she was overpowered at the divine condescension. No wonder that she nearly died from excess of love and gratitude. That she, the most useless and insignificant nun in the convent, should be singled out for a work of such magnitude and grandeur! And then, upon her giving her consent, there shot forth from Our Lord’s Sacred Heart a ray of the fire which pierced her own heart. Now surely she must have died of love had not Christ sustained her. Never again could she think of anything except that Heart of Christ. Never again could she speak of anything, write of anything, take an interest in anything except the allabsorbing truth that Christ’s love for men was beyond the power of words to express, and that men were indifferent and should be roused to realise the actuality of the love of a God for their souls. For Margaret Mary, too, transformation had begun.

From all of which it seems clear that there are moments to which God’s Providence has attached the communication of special graces. You may go along for years in sin, like Magdalene or Saul, or steeped in worldliness like “Ignatius Loyola, and then at last God’s moment arrives to lay siege to your soul.

Or you have been trying hard to love Christ and to serve Him well, but some day He visits you with a very torrent of graces. Nothing seems clearer to you now than that every single obstacle to His complete reign within you must be swept aside.

This love of His is now understood to be so true, so living a thing, and by comparison everything else is so fickle, so weak and unstable and languishing, that there arises in your heart a craving to open the hearts and the minds of others, blinded as they are, to see and understand even as you yourself see and understand. When you hear His appeal for apostles, it dawns upon you, perhaps by degrees or perhaps all at once, that that appeal is made to you. He” wants everybody to help in His work, and everybody includes you! It is a light, a new impetus, and a powerful urge comes to fling in your lot absolutely and unreservedly with His. A loving Christ is calling and you want no more. If He invites, you have no desire or wish to ask whither.

Now, if there is one place more than another where it is reasonable to hope for such a transforming grace, that place is the Hill of Calvary. For here is Omnipotence taxing its powers in the effort to stun us into a deeper understanding of the truth of God’s love. “Greater love than this no man hath that a man lay down his life for his friends.” Calvary is like a great reservoir, the capacity of which is, infinite, and in it are stored up “the unsearchable riches of Christ.”

Let the soul therefore come to Calvary and kneel down there at those bleeding feet. Here is the source of all grace. Here is Christ ready to pour abundantly His treasure into the soul, the only limitation being the soul’s power to receive. Saul of Tarsus went forth to preach Christ and Him crucified. If the world is to be saved today, salvation can come only from the Cross. If grace is to transform individual souls and fill them with an efficacious desire to become saints, that grace will be given only to those who strive sincerely to reproduce in themselves the virtues of a bleeding Christ.

Christ spoke on Calvary and His words came charged with special graces. Even to this day those words of His retain their efficacy, for they are divine. They possess a transforming power, and it behooves us to listen, and listening to understand, and understanding to put in practice what is enjoined upon us. Then will Omnipotence be enabled to act,. when it finds us in fit dispositions. Grace will allure the soul and try to win her, but never will grace use force. Here on Calvary the persuasive eloquence of divine grace reaches its climax, and it finds its expression in the seven last words of the dying Saviour.

FIRST WORD

FATHER, FORGIVE THEM, FOR THEY KNOW NOT. WHAT THEY DO

You will never find an instance of harshness in Our Lord’s treatment of a repentant sinner. On the sin itself He was inexorable, but for the sinner who avowed that he was genuinely ashamed of his base conduct and resolved to amend, for him Jesus Christ ever showed all the compassion and understanding of a tender mother.

Nothing is easier than to illustrate this trait of His character. A whole list of His dealings with repentant sinners comes “instinctively to mind. There was Magdalene, the woman in the city who was a sinner. There was Peter who denied Him, cursing and swearing that he never knew Him, although only a few hours had elapsed since he had vehemently affirmed that he would shed his blood for Christ. There was the woman of Samaria, the woman taken in adultery, there was Judas even, whom with a tact truly divine He tried to save almost in spite of himself. There was His mercy towards His corrupt judges. Witness His warning to Caiphas and His readiness to speak to Pilate and explain to him everything he wanted to know. And now here on Calvary there is yet another instance of this same unfailing mercy. For even His persecutors He prays. They stand around His cross jeering Him in His dying hour, pointing at Him the finger of scorn, but for them, too, He will pray. Father, forgive them.

And His excuse for them? “They know not what they are doing.” But surely His mercy and love without precedent should have taught them? Could any man who was man, and no more, evince such patience, such thoughtfulness for others, such astonishing readiness to forgive as they had witnessed this day in Jesus of Nazareth ? Why, then, did they not know Him? What was holding their eyes?

If friendship with Our Lord, following upon experimental knowledge of Him, is to come into its own and transform the soul, every obstacle must first be removed. The soul has the fearful power of being able to erect walls that will oppose the action of divine grace, and sin and selfishness form the bricks and the mortar and the clay. Only when those walls have collapsed, or at least have begun to totter, only then will the soul begin to understand, from her own intimate experience, what it is to know Him Who is hanging here on Calvary today.

Sin and selfishness -how they blind the mind and harden the heart against the influence of grace! Look around at those responsible for the death of Christ and see the many manifestations of selfishness that have conspired to bring about this tragic ending to His life. In Annas and Caiphas selfishness took the form of an insane hatred and jealousy of Christ and the power He held with the people. If He is allowed to go on like this, He will win their allegiance, and the Jewish priests and rulers will be out of the picture. They had said as much: “Do you see that we prevail nothing ? Behold, the whole world is gone after Him.” Selfishness in Annas and Caiphas took the form of an ungovernable jealousy, and they swore to put Him to death.

In Pontius Pilate selfishness manifested itself under the garb of slavery to the opinion of the world. This unfortunate man knew very well that His Prisoner was innocent. He declared this openly.

Hence you would say that Pilate’s course must be clear. If the Man is innocent, let Him go free at once. But would that please the world? Pilate might anger the Jews. Pilate might lose the favour of Ceasar. At all costs he must keep on good terms with those in power. So he has resort to a series of shameful subterfuges-sending Our Lord to Herod, scourging Him with savage severity, putting him up against Barrabas. All this he does in the vain effort to keep himself on good terms with the world. Selfishness in Pilate’s case was synonymous with worldliness. Herod too was selfish. No more need be said of this dissolute prince than that he was a slave to the unclean sin.

Pleasure was Herod’s idol, before which Christ refused to bend. Herod could not argue with Christ. No defence of his life was possible, so he just laughed at Christ as being out-of-date and sent Him away. The atmosphere was uncomfortablewith this Man about. Herod’s reeking soul could not endure contact with the immaculate Christ. He would not argue: he would not try to put up a defence (as Pilate and the others tried to do). He preferred to smile indulgently. The Man is a simpleton. Take Him away and let Herod go on with his fun! Impurity is the very enthronement of selfishness in the heart.

Lastly, there is the mob around the dying Christ. They have been goaded to this act of deicide because they have permitted themselves to be duped by blind guides. They refuse to stop and think and reason for themselves. They are victims of lying propaganda.

“They do not know,” because they, too, are eaten up with selfishness. “We will not have this Man to rule over us.” Why? Because their leaders hate Him, and they have promised the mob with rich rewards if they succeed in slaying Him. It is selfishness again that is responsible. The crowd listens and believes these specious promises. If these are fulfilled, things will go well indeed with the mob. Wherefore let Christ die. Away with Him! Crucify Him!

Jealousy, worldliness, impurity, credulity -four forms of selfishness which condemned Christ to death. Notice, in passing, the striking contrast in Our Lord. Already we have dwelt upon His mercy and thoughtfulness for others. Even His enemies on Calvary bear unwitting testimony to His unselfishness. “He saved others, Himself He cannot save!”

So it is selfishness which blinds men’s eyes thus. “Father, forgive them, for they do not know.” And selfishness is blinding them today. First of all, there is jealousy and hatred. You will never taste and see that the Lord is sweet as long as you harbour in your heart bitterness against your neighbour.

As long as you did it to one of these, you did it to Me.” You are est ranged from another? You say you will not forgive? You will never salute that person again? Granted that you were treated unjustly. Granted that lying tongues defamed you. Granted that perjury wronged you out of your property.

All that was done to Christ and His vengeance was to pray: Father, forgive them. As long as you cherish feelings of resentment towards anybody, you are separated from Christ. He is in that person-so unjust, so thoughtless, so selfish. “You did it to Me.” Let the streams of His blood flowing from Calvary today break down the barrier of jealousy and uncharitableness and He will enter deeply into the soul. Then you will “ know “ Him-not out of books or sermons, but from your own intimate experience. Selfishness was holding your eyes, but now with forgiveness comes light to see and to know, and to understand a little better, the strength and sincerity of Christ’s love.

Pilate was filled with the spirit of worldliness, and there are many Pilates abroad today. What is the rift of pleasure except worship of the world ? No time for Christ or deep prayer because there are so many things to do: so many shows or dances or films. Even if serious sin be avoided, how can any sane man expect to know Christ, and to love Him and to realise Him, if life is a ceaseless chasing after amusement? No one has a word to say against reasonable recreation, but the evidence is abundant that pleasure-seeking is fast tending to absorb the whole life of many of our people. The result is that God and His service are regarded more or less as an interference, an inconvenient and irksome duty to be got through with the minimum of time and trouble.

Little they suspect, these votaries of the world, the deep joy they are missing. “They do not know.” They fancy that passionate devotion to Christ must somehow be a burden. “Being good always” must be such a penance! The only happiness they know and have experience of comes from the world.

If only they would give grace a chance to teach them the trifles with which they are satisfied and the solid peace they are losing!

The beginnings of every science are difficult. You can recall, perhaps, the painful hammering out of scales and exercises on the piano, or the laboured sentences of your first essays in writing. But as you grow proficient, ease comes and pleasure, and finally an absorbing interest.

This is exactly the course, too, in the science of knowing and loving Christ. “It is the first step that counts,” the Little Flower has written. To break with the world you love will probably be desperately hard. Deliberately to turn your back on many a dance or cinema, and instead to make a Holy Hour, or visit a slum area, or work for souls in your Sodality or Legion-not a bit attractive to your natural taste. But try it. At present selfishness is blinding you. At present selfishness has vitiated your taste. Put in the sword courageously and cut out this cancer selfishness, and see how you will then come to know Christ. It is the first step that counts.

SECOND WORD

LORD, REMEMBER ME WHEN THOU SHALT COME INTO THY KINGDOM

Everybody suffers, at least sometimes, from depression. The disease is so universal that definition of it seems superfluous. Times there are when everything goes wrong. Normally, you are easy enough to get on with and people have no difficulty in coming to you in the course of business or recreation. But when you are depressed you are inclined to be snappy and irritable, and your friends leave you wondering what has happened. Usually you take a healthy interest in your work, and it is a pleasure to you to settle down to a good hard grind. At normal times you can concentrate, but when this depression settles upon you it is only with an almost superhuman effort that you drag yourself into your shop or sit at your desk. You cannot well say what you want to do instead, but, if you allowed yourself, you, would be peevish and restless. You are in a mood to doubt if anything is worth while. Normally you are fond of a game or a hard tramp into the country or you can enjoy an evening with your friends. But, since this feeling of depression has fallen upon you, you want to be left alone, and possibly your friends” efforts to arouse your interest only irritate you the more.

A time of depression has great possibilities to make or to mar your spiritual life. Nothing is easier at such a period than to pitch aside all effort, to forget all one’s good resolutions, and, like a spoilt child, to pout and stamp one’s foot at the world in general. Nothing is easier than even to fling one’s self recklessly into serious sin at such a time in order by such a course to try to find the satisfaction one is craving for. It was all very well in the fervour of your retreat or mission to make grand promises and to resolve to be all that you know a fervent Catholic should be. But now that this disease has come, and, it would seem, has come to stay, you are ready to yield one point after another. What’s the use? Others all around you are having a good time. They sin freely and seem to enjoy it. Why do you want to make an exception of yourself?

On the other hand, a period of depression can be a decided lift to higher things in my spiritual life. It teaches me to look below the surface and read life with the eyes of Jesus Christ. This sense of dissatisfaction with everything and everyone, what else is it but a most. cogent argument that I am made for something higher than this world ? I can often give no reason to myself for my depression. People are kind to me, my work is said to be a success, my health was never better, I hear good news of those who are dear to me. And yet, with it all, there is this unaccountable fit of weariness with life and this constant restlessness and apparent inability to settle down to work or play or prayer. Is there an explanation? .

Yes, there is. If there is no infidelity with which I have to reproach myself, if I have tried all the while to be faithful to my ideals of prayer and generosity in God’s service, and if, in spite of this, I am crushed down by this load, I am safe in assuring myself that the load has been measured out and placed upon my shoulders by the hand of God. There is a deep lesson here for me. The Lord Who loves me would teach me and convince me that nothing can satisfy my heart except Him alone.

That was the lesson learned by the Prodigal Son. It was only in his hour of depression that he came to know his father. It was not until he had reached the squalor of the pigsty that he realised his mistake. “How many servants in my father’s house, and I the son am here famishing with cold and hunger. I will arise and go to my father! “It was the same depression that brought back the repentant thief here on Calvary. “Lord, do Thou remember me.” It was, if you will, a poor compliment to the Lord that the thief called to Him only after he had drunk to the dregs the intoxications of the world and found them unsatisfying. When all else had failed he turned to Christ. Lord, remember me. He had wearied of all that sin could give him. He had learned that sin is misery indeed. Perhaps Christ could satisfy. Perhaps He after all held the secret of happiness. The thief would try, at least. Lord, remember me. Everything else has turned to ashes.

We could never dream of treating a human friend like this. Suppose he offers me his friendship and I reject it. Instead I go my way and find that I in turn am also unwanted by those for whom I rejected him. Years pass by and I have been all the while unresponsive. All the while I have sought other friendships and have deliberately held myself aloof from him. Suppose it is only after a life like this, when I am unwanted by others, when I have all these years been turning my back on him, suppose it is only when there is nobody else left to fall back upon that I now return to my friend and accept his friendship and his love. But if even now he will have me, if even now he is glad to receive me, I may indeed congratulate myself on having found a friend whose friendship is almost unique. That is the theme of Francis Thompson’s poem, “The Hound of Heaven.” All those years the soul has fled Christ, and it is only when it has tasted and tried sin that it finally gives Him a chance of pouring into it sweetness and the happiness it has sought. “Whom wilt thou find to love ignoble thee, save Me, save only Me”?

It is here precisely that Our Lord’s 10ve proves itself so immeasurably superior to the love of everybody else. Reject a human friend and normally the friendship is severed forever. I have spurned his offer of love and have gone for years seeking other friendships. I cannot go back to him now no, not to a merely human friend. But the friendship of Christ is different. He will have me at any price and at any time. Disappointed I may be with the world and sin; disillusioned I may be by its specious promises; depressed I may be and weary of the burden of life. That is often Christ’s moment. It was at a moment like this that the thief saw the light. It was on the cross that he learned to seek Christ. It was when all else had turned to ashes that he understood at last where to seek and to find a friendship that would endure. And it was after a life of ingratitude, after a life in which he had sought and tried out every means of finding happiness apart from Christ, it was only at the end that Christ came into His own.

And the vastly consoling truth is that Christ accepts him, even now. “This day thou shalt be, with Me in Paradise.” A sentence that surely filled the repentant thief with joy. But the joy was scarcely without alloy. The calamity of it that life is gone and he has discovered Christ only now!

THIRD WORD

BEHOLD THY MOTHER; BEHOLD THY SON

The Blessed Trinity conferred a marvellous privilege on Mary of Nazareth when they sent the angel to ask her to consent to be God’s Mother. But it is far from the truth to imagine that the divine maternity implied an honour only. Our Lady knew well that her “fiat” would entail a life of suffering. All through those years since the Incarnation she was being asked for sacrifice, and today on Calvary she is placing the crown on her offering.

Behold thy Mothe r. What is that Mother doing? “There stood by the Cross of Jesus His Mother.” Round about her are the jeering crowds hurling their taunts at her dying Son. And Our Lady stands there as a priest might stand, underneath the cross offering her Son as a Victimfor sin. Here is the culmination of her “fiat.” Overwhelmed as she is with grief she will not wince. Sin has to be atoned for and Mary offers Christ. Such a Victim, offered by such hands, must surely find acceptance in God’s sight. Even as the priest at Mass offers the Host and the Chalice in reparation, so does Mary stand here and offer the prayers and the wounds of her divine Son.

The taunts and blasphemies uttered on Calvary find a ringing echo in this twentieth century. As we write, the world is drenched in the blood of the most frightful war known to history. Europe is a slaughter house. How much sin must necessarily follow in the trail of this carnage. How much hatred, and blasphemy, and immorality; how many thousand lives lost; what destruction to property; what passions let loose. And, even apart from the war, who can reckon up the sins committed in a city like this in even one night? We are gathered around the Cross of the dying Christ. Make no mistake about it, before another sun rises over Dublin, Christ will be offended by crimes which St. Paul tells us should not be even mentioned amongst us. You will soon step out of this Church and you know the world in which you live. You know the restless element that is abroad. You see for yourselves the.loosening of morals, the little regard to God’s warnings, the break-up of home life, the heartlessness towards Christ’s poor, the neglect of prayer.

Do not tell me about our crowded Churches, our zealous apostolate; do not cite for me examples of generous selfsacrifice. For all that we thank God and gratefully acknowledge that it is so. But what is to be said about those who do not crowd our Churches ? What of those who crowd instead into our cinemas and dance halls: what of those who crowd into our County Homes, who crowd our roads at night time? Speak about the activities of our splendid Catholics if you will, but do not forget that Satan, too, has his agents. Do not fail to reckon those whose lives are pampered and lazy and selfish. If you think they are few, you do not know the force of the jeers uttered on Calvary that is finding an echo in our midst today.

Many Catholics seem to be under the impression that the service of Jesus Christ is a negative thing merely. It seems to them that if they keep from sin and its occasions and ultimately, escape hell, that is all that should be expected from them. Of course, it is of first importance to do that much, and the words of Our Lord have so far impressed upon us the absolute need of breaking forever with sin and all that leads to sin. But now there comes the positive lesson. Now comes the answer to that dynamic question that has revolutionised so many lives: What am I going to do for Christ?

What? Christ answers by telling me to look at His Mother. Behold thy Mother. Here on Calvary she is offering Him as a Victim for sin. That offering made adequate reparation for the sins of all time. It was infinite in value, and as a result of it there are stored up on Calvary the “unsearchable riches of Christ.” The soul may draw near and draw off from these fountains of the Saviour.

But what of the crimes of these present days? Our Lord can no longer suffer in His human Body for the sins that are being hurled against His Father today. But He can suffer in His mystical Body, which is composed of the members of His Church.

And that is the positive side of the spiritual life. That is St. Paul’s sublime concept when he writes: “I fill up in my flesh those things that are wanting to the sufferings of Christ.” It is not enough merely to avoid sin and escape hell. He wants to do something positive in proof of his burning love for Christ “Who loved me and delivered Himself for me.”

On Calvary they mocked Him as they are mocking Him today. On Calvary, Mary stood offering Him on the Cross in reparation for sin. Mary still stands waiting for victims who will go on the cross willingly and allow her to offer them, as part of Christ’s mystical Body, in reparation for the heinous crimes that are surrounding us today. It is a sublime vocation.It is to reproduce the victimhood of Christ in our sinful flesh. On Calvary, Mary’s first Victim prayed and suffered. He who would present himself to her in place of her Son must prepare, too, for a life of prayer and suffering. By such means Christ expiated sin on Calvary. By these it must be expiated today. Who is willing to come to Mary and say to her: Behold thy son?

FOURTH WORD

MY GOD, MY GOD, WHY HAST THOU FORSAKEN ME?

It seems likely that this word of the dying Christ was uttered after that strange darkness had covered the earth. For the greater part of three hours our Saviour hung there in a state of torture that baffles our powers of imagination to conceive, and now this darkness descends upon Him and accentuates His feeling of complete isolation and loneliness. It is very well worthy of note that at such an hour of loneliness His remedy is prayer. The pathetic cry breaks out over the hill of Calvary and sends its echo into the darkness: My God, my God, why hast Thou forsaken Me?

It is easy enough to pray when consolations abound. Often at the outset of the spiritual life the soul is inundated with a heavenly joy. Everything seems so simple, sanctity is so reasonable, the cross is so loved. It is difficult to understand why all men do not see and understand the love of Christ for them and why they do not make Him a fitting return. When the soul is in this state of sweetness and appreciates thus the value of the supernatural, there is nothing more natural than that she should find in prayer her chief delight.

But if she perseveres, a change will probably come to her. Presently this sweetness will begin to evaporate. St. Paul wrote to the Corinthians: “I gave you milk to drink, not meat, because you were not able as yet.” In the beginning of the Soul’s journey Godwards, on the road of prayer, God generally allures her to love of divine things by giving her “milk” of sensible sweetness. As she progresses He will offer her the meat of the strong. He will withdraw from her all taste and delight in the things of the spiritual life, and, like Jesus on Calvary today, she will be inclined to complain and cry out: “My God, my God, why hast Thou forsaken Me”?

Has He forsaken her actually? Not at all. Prayer does not consist in sweetness but in converse with God. In order that a soul may enter into “holy familiarity with God” she must be purified. Now at first she is attached, although she does not know it, to this sensible sweetness. She believes she wants it only that it may help her Godwards, but in reality she is loving, not so much God, as this sweetness which God is giving her. In order to train her to rise above this feeling, God takes it away, when she has grown somewhat in spiritual strength.

How will she react? It is of paramount importance at a time like this, that she understands clearly that her policy must be to make no change whatever in her spiritual life or in her resolutions. Let her turn back to creatures now-to the world, to comfort in gossip, or cinema, or dance hall, or news-to any of the thousand things which she has seen are hinderances to her progress, though they are not sins. Let her at a time of trial like this go back again to the good things the world has to offer her, and she may mar a life of holiness. Much depends on her fidelity in this period of dryness. Jesus prayed in the darkness. Let her do the same and she will advance more in the love of God and in solid spirituality at a time like this than when she is abounding in sweetness.

More than this. If she will but hold on, the sweetness will return, as soon as the Lord sees that she has been purified. But it will not be the same. It will be deeper, more soul-satisfying, because now, on account of her greater purity, she can draw nearer to the source of all purity. Hence her prayer after this period of apparent dereliction has gone through a cleansing process. She seeks God alone now whereas before she sought His gifts.

It would be very easy to illustrate this from the lives of the saints. They became saints through the cross, and the form the cross most often took was just the dereliction of Calvary. Long periods of utter dryness, during which it would have been so simple a matter to let go their hold upon the spiritual life, were crowned by a triumph similar to that which shone out after the tragedy of Calvary had been consummated.

It is not sweetness in prayer that makes saints, but the adherence of the will to God. And the most searching test of this loyalty of the will is given when darkness covers the face of God. Calvary taught the saints to pray at such a time with all the greater earnestness and because they learned that hard lesson, they rejoiced later in a fuller possession of God.

FIFTH WORD

I THIRST

When Our Lord was kneeling in Gethsemani last night, He prayed that the chalice might pass from Him. It was indeed a bitter chalice. The evangelists tell us that there were three ingredients in it.

“He began to be afraid”; “He began to be weary,” or filled with loathing and disgust; “He began to be sorrowful and to be sad.” Fear, disgust and sadness are thus the contents of His chalice. Fear filled His Heart because of the near approach of His sufferings. Disgust seized upon His immaculate soul because of that slimy spectre which issued from the shadows, whose name is sin. And sadness crushed Him to earth last night because, in spite of all He was about to suffer, souls would be lost.

Still, He took the chalice although He had to force Himself, and now on Calvary He declares that He thirsts. It would seem as if the dying Saviour would, thus express His willingness and His eagerness to drink even more deeply still of that bitter chalice which at first He found so hard to accept. Last night He prayed: Father, if it be possible, remove this chalice. Today He tells the Father: I thirst. Not only has He drunk the chalice, but, if the Father willed, He would drink more deeply of suffering still.

It is God’s way never to allow Himself to be outdone in generosity. It is beyond question that the close following of Our Lord will entail the acceptance of hard things. This condition He will not tone down. “If any man will come after Me, let him deny himself, take up his cross daily and follow Me.” Many hear this and pass Him by. It is a hard saying, and they cannot bring themselves to believe that His fellowship is worth it.

But there are others who stop to listen: They hear Him invite them to a life of sacrifice, and little by little, perhaps at the cost of many a stiff battle with self, they come ultimately to a state when they live a life of habitual sacrifice. As they draw near towards this happy consummation, they make a discovery that surprises them. It is that the more they “go in” for sacrifice, the happier they become. Just as Our Lord experienced a thirst for even greater sufferings, did the Father so will, so they too discover that the cross and suffering, lovingly accepted, so far from embittering their lives and making them unhappy, prove rather to be the highroad to an intense gladness of heart which before this they never experienced. It is Our Lord’s generosity. The moment they give up anything for love of Him, He rewards them with a wonderful sense of freedom. A chain has snapped. They feel that they are emancipated from a tyranny that was holding them captive. When they broke the chain, they entered at once into the freedom of the children of God.

Our Lord refused the vinegar and gall which would have robbed Him of this precious suffering. So the soul which has discovered the joy of sacrifice, so far from wanting relaxation, regards suffering rather as her greatest gain, for it affords her an opportunity of proving her love for Christ. And it affords Him an excuse to pour into the soul a joy not of this earth.

This sublime folly is learned at the feet of Christ on Calvary.

When St. John of the Cross was asked by Our Lord what reward he wanted for all he had done in God’s service, he answered: “Only to be despised and to suffer for Thee!” When St. Francis Xavier knelt in prayer at the close of an exhausting day of toil in his missions, he was heard to cry out: “Lord, withdraw these consolations from me and give me the cross and suffering.” This is, if you like, “unnatural.” Better, it is supernatural. Grace can effect marvels on nature when given an opportunity. Let the soul, like Christ in Gethsemani, steel herself to grasp the chalice and drink it, and when she has drunk she will still cry out, again like Him: I thirst. I would suffer still more, seeing that suffering opens the way to such intimacy with Christ.

SIXTH WORD

IT IS CONSUMMATED

This word was spoken just before Our Lord died. After He had uttered it, Jesus, bowing down His head, gave up the ghost. Hence the most natural interpretation to give to His word is that it refers to His life, which has now at last come to a close. That life is a perfect life. He has lived it in the manner most surely calculated to give the maximum of glory to His eternal Father. Man’s task, too, is to give glory to God by his life, and, since this was done in the most perfect way by Our Lord, it follows that the more closely man reproduces Christ’s life in his own, the more perfectly he too will glorify God.

And that is the teaching of the saints, and notably of St. Paul. The great apostle never wearies of impressing upon us that Christ is the model Whom we have to reproduce in ourselves. “My little children for whom I am in labour again until Christ be fashioned in you.” “Be ye imitators of me as I am of Christ.” “Always bearing about in our bodies the mortification of Jesus.” These are a few texts which come instinctively to mind as illustrative of the central idea of Pauline theology, sc. that a Christian must reproduce Christ’s life in himself.

Now, this life which is ending here has two phas es, and it is really one of these which is “consummated” on Calvary. There is the suffering phase, and there is the glorious phase. When the suffering phase ends for Him the clouds part, the sun shines through once more and Jesus enters in triumph into heaven and begins the second phase of His life. This will continue throughout the endless ages of eternity.

And at present they who are Christ’s are engaged on the task of reproducing the first part of his life. That is why there is nothing more reasonable than to expect treatment in this world similar to what He experienced. “Wonder not, brethren, if the world hate you.” “You are not of the world as I also am not of the world. If you had been of the world, the world would love its own. But because you are not of the world, but I have chosen you out of the world, therefore the world hateth you.” That is the first part for the Christian. Hence, while he is here, he looks out for hardship and suffering and contradiction and poverty. It seems to him the most natural thing in the world to have these things, for it is by these that he is to be fashioned according to the Model. “Suffering,” writes St. John of the Cross, “is the badge of those who love.”

But it is not all toiling to Calvary. There is the second phase, too, to be reproduced. When the soul has followed Him faithfully throughout the shame and humiliations of Calvary, for it, too, as for its Model, the clouds part and there is the wonderful welcome home. “Well done, good and faithful servant”! It is the glorious phase, the second part of His life, that now begins in that soul, end, as in His case, that second part will go on throughout eternity. In proportion to the fidelity with which it has been fashioned in the way of suffering and humiliation, in the same will now be its share in the second part of the life of the Model.

“It is consummated” can refer, too, to the love of Jesus Christ for a soul. Times there are when, during the period while we are following Him to Calvary, we feel footsore and weary and almost ready to think that all religion is a make-believe. But at a time like that if we come and kneel down here, we are cheered and encouraged at once. Why? Because Jesus Christ on Calvary has done all that an omnipotent love can do to prove itself. As He looks down into the soul there at His feet, He sees all its most secret sins-all the broken resolutions, all those others it has led into sin, all the sacriligous Communions, the impurities, the drunkenness. Such a terrible catalogue of vice! Yet, knowing all about that poor soul and her evil ways, He tells her that His Heart loves still, and still is ready to forgive.

He cannot do more than He is doing here on Calvary to assure the repentant sinner that, even if her sins be red as scarlet, He is anxiousto make them white as snow. Here is the “consummation” of His love. If Calvary fails to convince me of His readiness to forgive, then omnipotent love can do no more. He is a friend, indeed, and he fulfils in Himself that grand definition of a friend, “a man who knows everything about me and loves me just the same?”

SEVENTH WORD

INTO THY HANDS, O LORD, I COMMEND MY SPIRIT

Death is a penalty, and it is useless for us to try to rob it of its terrors. Try as we may, the fearful issues that are in the balance at that moment fill us with dread. If I am at death what I ought to be, then my eternal destiny is secure; if at death I am found wanting, my life, whatever it may have been in the eyes of men, is now proved to be an utter failure. “What doth it profit a man if he gain the whole world and lose his soul? Or what shall a man give in exchange for his soul”?

At the death of Christ I cannot but be impressed by the confident assurance with which He passes out of this world. Some time ago He cried to His Father as if in despair, but now that has all passed away, and He speaks with confidence and with peace. “Into Thy Hands, O Lord, I commend My spirit.”

This confidence of Our Lord is at once accounted for when we recall the inviolable fidelity with which He did the Father’s Will. That Will was the rule of His life. “The things that are pleasing to My Father I always do.” Hence, when He looked back from Calvary over those thirty-three years, He could see clearly that in everything He did or left undone, in all that He said or did not say, in His journeys or in retirement-throughout all one only guide determined His actions,-the Will of His Eternal Father. Well, therefore, might “ He sum up His life by saying: “Father, I have finished the work which Thou gavest Me to do, and now I come to Thee.” There is no anxiety. There is the confident assurance that all is well, for the dutiful Son has done exactly what the Father sent Him into the world to do. Hence His dying word is a shout of victory, for to serve God is to reign.

Can death be robbed of its terrors? Many friends of God have gone to meet death with a smile of joy on their faces. What is the explanation of their confidence? It is built up on the same assurance that accounts for the confidence of Christ. Like Him, the faithful servant has done God’s Will, though not indeed with the same exactness. There have been failures, many of them perhaps, but at least the desire and the effort have been kept up, and the trustful soul knows in Whom she is trusting. Little does it matter to her on her deathbed that she has been popular, or much travelled, that she has had a “good time,” that she lived in Ireland or at the antipodes-all that simply ceases to matter. One fact only will comfort her: one thought only will sustain her-that she can lift up her eyes until they meet the eyes of Christ and can say, like Him, that she has tried consistently to do God’s Will in her special state of life. With this assurance she can indeed face death calmly and repeat with her great Model: Into Thy hands, O Lord, I commend my spirit.

We are living in an age which should be prolific in saints. We are crippled at present with mediocrity in the spiritual life; we are paralysed by ordinariness. In view of the sin that is rife it is time we realised the need there is of reparation. The Sacred Heart appeals for reparation, and reparation is to be made by modelling ourselves on Him. This means sanctity, not mere avoidance of sin, nor mere escaping hell. It means generosity, the determination to offend the whole world and risk every material gain, rather than swerve a hairsbreadth from what we know to be God’s Will.

In t he proportion that we do God’s Will (even the will of His good pleasure which we can disobey without actually committing sin) in the same will the grace of God flow from Calvary into our souls. In the proportion that the grace of Christ flows into our souls, in the same shall we become modeled upon Christ. These are the three steps on the road to sanctity-do God’s Will and grace will flow unimpeded into the soul; let grace flow thus into the soul and the soul will grow in Christliness; and Christliness is another name for sanctity.

Christ appeals for saints. What a bitter regret we shall have at our death if we have turned a deaf ear to the appeal! What sorrow that we are only good enough when He was urging us all those years to generosity! But what confidence if we have tried consistently, in spite of many falls along the road, to keep our eyes fixed on the Model and to do God’s Will! Such a perseverance will entitle us to look forward to the crown, to mingle our confident prayer with the prayer of the dyingChrist: “Into Thy hands, O Lord, I commend my spirit.”

Nihil Obstat:

CAROLUS DOYLE, S.J., Censor Theol. Deput.

Imprimi Potest:

@ FRANCISCUS J. WALL, Vic. Cap.

DUBLINI, die 29 Junii, 1940.

********

Preparation For Total Consecration To Our Lady

INDEX

ST. LOUIS DE MONTFORT’S FORMULA OF TOTAL CONSECRATION TO JESUS THROUGH MARY IS NOT TO BE TAKEN LIGHTLY. THIS IS EVIDENCED FROM THE FACT THAT THE SAINT HIMSELF ADVOCATES A SERIOUS PREPARATION CONSISTING OF TWELVE PRELIMINARY DAYS, IN WHICH THE SOUL ENDEAVOURS TO RID ITSELF OF THE SPIRIT OF THE WORLD AS OPPOSED TO THE SPIRIT OF CHRIST. THIS IS FOLLOWED BY THREE WEEKS OF PRAYER AND MEDITATION DURING WHICH THE SOUL STRIVES TO ACQUIRE A BETTER KNOWLEDGE OF SELF (1ST WEEK), OF MARY (2ND WEEK), AND OF JESUS CHRIST (3RD WEEK).

Though this preliminary period is strongly recommended, it is obvious that the length of time devoted to such a preparation may vary according to one’s personal needs and circumstances. For the benefit of those desiring to make the complete preparation recommended by the Saint, the Montfort Fathers in the United States have, for the first time, assembled in one book the various prayers and meditations conducive to an adequate preparation for total consecration to Jesus through Mary. A chart, consisting of six suggested schedules for consecration has also been drawn up to make it easier to keep track of the preparation days.

It is our hope that this book will not only simplify the task of preparing for consecration but also encourage countless others to undertake this beautiful way of spiritual life TO JESUS THROUGH MARY.

-The Editors

PART I—TWELVE PRELIMINARY DAYS

THEME: SPIRIT OF THE WORLD

Examine your conscience, pray, practice renouncement of your own will; mortification, purity of heart. This purity is the indispensable condition for contemplating God in heaven, to see Him on earth and to know Him by the light of faith.

The first part of the preparation should be employed in casting off the spirit of the world which is contrary to that of Jesus Christ. The spirit of the world consists essentially in the denial of the supreme dominion of God; a denial which is manifested in practice by sin and disobedience; thus it is principally opposed to the spirit of Christ, which is also that of Mary.

It manifests itself by the concupiscence of the flesh, by the concupiscence of the eyes and by the pride of life. By disobedience to God’s laws and the abuse of created things. Its works are: sin in all forms, then all else by which the devil leads to sin; works which bring error and darkness to the mind, and seduction and corruption to the will. Its pomps are the splendour and the charms employed by the ‘devil to render sin alluring in persons, places and things.

PRAYERS TO BE RECITED DURING THESE FIRST TWELVE DAYS

VENI CREATOR

Come, O Creator Spirit blest!

And in our souls take up thy rest; Come with Thy grace and heavenly aid, To fill the hearts which Thou hast made.

Great Paraclete! To Thee we cry, O highest gift of God most high! O font of life! O fire of love! And sweet anointing from above.

Thou in Thy sevenfold gifts art known, The finger of God’s hand we own; The promise of the Father, Thou! Who dost the tongue with power endow.

Kindle our senses from above,

And make our hearts o’erflow with love; With patience firm and virtue high The weakness of our flesh supply.

Far from us drive the foe we dread, And grant us Thy true peace instead; So shall we not, with Thee for guide, Turn from the path of life aside.

Oh, may Thy grace on us bestow

The Father and the Son to know,

And Thee through endless times confessed Of both the eternal Spirit blest.

All glory while the ages run

Be to the Father and the Son

Who rose from death; the same to Thee, O Holy Ghost, eternally. Amen.

AVE MARIS STELLA

Hail, bright star of ocean, God’s own Mother blest, Ever sinless Virgin,

Gate of heavenly rest.

Taking that sweet Ave Which from Gabriel came, Peace confirm within us, Changing Eva’s name.

Break the captives’ fetters, Light on blindness pour, All our ills expelling, Every bliss implore.

Show thyself a Mother;

May the Word Divine,

Born for us thy Infant,

Hear our prayers through thine.

Virgin all excelling,

Mildest of the mild,

Freed from guilt, preserve us, Pure and undefiled.

Keep our life all spotless, Make our way secure, Till we find in Jesus Joy forevermore.

Through the highest heaven

To the Almighty Three,

Father, Son and Spirit,

One same glory be. Amen.

(Indulgence of three years. Plenary indulgence, under the usual conditions, if recited daily for a month. Preces et Pia Opera, 292.)

MAGNIFICAT

My soul doth magnify the Lord.

And my spirit hath rejoiced in God my Saviour.

Because He hath regarded the humility of His handmaid; for behold, from henceforth all generations shall call me blessed.

Because He that is mighty hath done great things to me; and holy is His name.

And His mercy is from generation to generations, to them that fear Him.

He hath showed might in His arm; He hath scattered the proud in the conceit of their heart.

He hath put down the mighty from their seat; and hath exalted the humble.

He hath filled the hungry with good things; and the rich he hath sent empty away.

He hath received Israel His servant, being mindful of His mercy.

As He spoke to our fathers, to Abraham and to his seed forever. Amen.

Glory be to the Father, etc.

(Indulgence of three years. Plenary indulgence, under the usual conditions, if recited daily for a month.-Preces et Pia Opera, 291)

FIRST DAY

St. Matthew: Chapter 5: 1–19

And seeing the multitudes, he went up into a mountain, and when he was set down, his disciples came unto him.

And opening his mouth, he taught them saying: Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are the meek: for they shall possess the land. Blessed are they that mourn: for they shall be comforted. Blessed are they that hunger and thirst after justice: for they shall have their fill. Blessed are the merciful: for they shall obtain mercy. Blessed are the clean of heart: for they shall see God. Blessed are the peacemakers: for they shall be called the children of God. Blessed are they that suffer persecution for justice’s sake: for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are ye when they shall revile you, and persecute you, and speak all that is evil against you, untruly, for my sake: be glad and rejoice, for your reward is very great in heaven. For so they persecuted the Prophets that were before you.

You are the salt of the earth. But if the salt lose its savour wherewith shall it be salted? It is good for nothing anymore but to be cast out and be trodden on by men. You are the light of the world. A city seated on a mountain cannot he hid. Neither do men light a candle and put it under a bushel, but upon a candlestick, that it may shine to all that are in the house. So let your light shine before men, that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father who is in heaven. Do not think that I am come to destroy the law or the prophets; I am come not to destroy but to fulfill. For Amen, I say to you, till heaven and earth pass, one jot, or one tittle shall not pass of the law, till all be fulfilled. He therefore, that shall break one of these least commandments, and shall so teach man, shall be called the least in the kingdom of heaven. But he that shall do and teach shall be called great in the kingdom of heaven.

Now turn to page 1, For Prayers, etc.

SECOND DAY

St. Matthew: Chapter 5: 48, 6: 1–15

Be ye therefore perfect, as also your heavenly Father is perfect. Take heed that you do not your justice before men, to be seen by them: otherwise you shall not have the reward of your Father who is in heaven. Therefore when thou dost an alms-deed sound not a trumpet before thee, as the hypocrites do in the synagogues and in the streets, that they may be honoured by men. Amen, I say to you, they have received their reward. And when thou dost alms, let not thy left hand know what thy right hand doth. That thy alms may be in secret, and thy Father who sees in secret will repay thee. And when ye pray, ye shall not be as the hypocrites that love to stand and pray in the synagogues and corners of the streets, that they may be seen by men; Amen, I say to you, they have received their reward. But thou, when thou shalt pray, enter into thy chamber, and having shut the door, pray to the Father in secret; and thy Father who seeth in secret will repay thee. And when you are praying, speak not much, as the heathens. For they think that in their much speaking they may be heard. Be not you therefore like to them; for your Father knoweth what is needful for you, before you ask him. Thus therefore shall you pray: Our Father who art in heaven hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom came. Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our supersubstantial bread, and forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors. And lead us not into temptation. But deliver us from evil. Amen. For if you will forgive men their offences, your heavenly Father will forgive you also your offences. But if you will not forgive men, neither will your Father forgive you your offences.

Now turn to page 1, For Prayers, etc.

THIRD DAY

St. Matthew: Chapter 7: 1–14

Judge not, that you may not be judged. For with what judgment you judge, you shall be judged: and with what measure you mete, it shall be measured to you again. And why seest thou the mote that is in thy brother’s eye; and seest not the beam that is in thy own eye? Or how sayest thou to thy brother: let me cast the mote out of thy eye; and behold a beam is in thy own eye? Thou hypocrite, cast out first the beam of thy own eye and then shalt thou see to cast out the mote out of thy brother’s eye. Give not that which is holy to dogs. Neither cast ye your pearls before swine, lest perhaps they trample them under their feet: and turning upon you, they tear you. Ask, and it shall be given you: seek and you shall find: Knock and it shall be opened to you. For everyone that asketh, receiveth: and he that seeketh findeth, and to him that knocketh it shall be opened.

Or what man of whom if his son shall ask bread will he reach him a stone? Or, if he shall ask him a fish: will he reach him a serpent? If you then being evil know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father who is in heaven, give good things to them that ask him? All things therefore whatsoever you would that men should do to you, do also to them. For this is the law and the prophets. Enter ye into the narrow gate: for wide is the gate and broad is the way that leadeth to destruction and many there are who go in thereat. How narrow is the gate and straight is the way that leadeth to life, and few are there that find it!

Now turn to page 1, For Prayers, etc.

FOURTH DAY

Imitation: Book 3, Chapters 7, 40

That man has no good of himself, and that he cannot glory an anything

Lord, what is man, that Thou art mindful of him; or the son of man, that Thou visit him? What has man deserved that Thou should give him grace? Lord, what cause have I to complain, if Thou forsakest me, or what can I justly allege, if what I petition Thou shalt not grant? This most assuredly, I may truly think and say: Lord I am nothing, I can do nothing of myself, that is good, but I am in all things defective and ever tend to nothing. And unless I am assisted and interiorly instructed by Thee, I become wholly tepid and relaxed, but Thou, O Lord, art always the same, and endurest unto eternity, ever good, just and holy, doing all things well, justly and holily and disposing them in wisdom.

But I who am more inclined to go back, than to go forward, continue not always in one state, for I am changed, seven different times. But it quickly becomes better when it pleases Thee, and Thou stretchest out Thy helping hand: for Thou alone, without man’s aid can assist me and so strengthen me, that my countenance shall be more diversely changed: but my heart be converted and find its rest in Thee alone.

He who would be too secure in time of peace will often be found too much dejected in time of war. If you could always continue to be humble and little in your own eyes, and keep your spirit in due order and subjection, you would not fall so easily into danger and offense. It is good counsel that, when you have conceived the spirit of fervour, you should meditate how it will be when that light shall be withdrawn.

Now turn to page 1, For Prayers, etc.

FIFTH DAY

Imitation: Continued: Book 3, Chapter 40

Wherefore, but I did know well, how to cast from me all human comfort, either for the sake of devotion, or through the necessity by which I am compelled to seek Thee, because there is no man that can comfort me. Then might I deservedly hope in Thy favour, and rejoice in the gift of a new consolation. Thanks be to Thee from Whom all things proceed, as often as it happens to me, I, indeed, am but vanity, and nothing in Thy sight, an inconstant and weak man. Where, therefore, can I glory, or for what do I desire to be thought of highly?

Forsooth of my very nothingness; and this is most vain. Truly vainglory is an evil plague, because it draws away from true glory, and robs us of heavenly grace. For, while a man takes complacency in himself, he displeases Thee; while he wants for human applause, he is deprived of true virtues. But true, glory and holy exultation is to glory in Thee, and not in one’s self; to rejoice in Thy Name, but not in one’s own strength. To find pleasure in no creature, save only for Thy sake. Let Thy Name be praised, not mine; let Thy work be magnified, not mine; let Thy Holy Name be blessed, but let nothing be attributed to me of the praise of men. Thou art my glory; Thou art the exultation of my heart; in Thee, will I glory and rejoice all the day; but for myself, I will glory in nothing but in my infirmities.

Now turn to page 1, For Prayers, etc.

SIXTH DAY

Imitation: Book 1, Chapter 18

On the examples of the Holy Fathers

Look upon the lively examples of the holy Fathers in whom shone real perfection and the religious life, and you will see how little it is, and almost nothing that we do. Alas, what is our life when we compare it with theirs? Saints and friends of Christ, they served our Lord in hunger and in thirst, in cold, in nakedness, in labour and in weariness, in watching, in fasting, prayers and holy meditations, and in frequent persecutions and reproaches. Oh, how many grievous tribulations did the Apostles suffer and the Martyrs and Confessors and Virgins, and all the rest who resolved to follow the steps of Christ! For they hated their lives in this world, that they might keep them in life everlasting. Oh what a strict and self-renouncing life the holy Fathers of the desert led! What long and grievous temptations did they bear! How often were they harassed by the enemy, what frequent and fervent prayers did they offer up to God, what rigorous abstinence did they practice!

What a valiant contest waged they to subdue their imperfections! What purity and straightforwardness of purpose kept they towards God! By day they laboured, and much of the night they spent in prayer; though while they laboured, they were far from leaving off mental prayer. They spent all their time profitably. Every hour seemed short to spend with God; and even their necessary bodily refreshment was forgotten in the great sweetness of contemplation. They renounced all riches, dignities, honours and kindred; they hardly took what was necessary for life. It grieved them to serve the body even in its necessity. Accordingly, they were poor in earthly things, but very rich in grace and virtues.

Now turn to page 1, For Prayers, etc.

SEVENTH DAY

Imitation: Book 1, Chapter 18

Outwardly they suffered want, but within they were refreshed with grace and Divine consolation. They were aliens to the world; they seemed as nothing and the world despised them; but they were precious and beloved in the sight of God. They persevered in true humility, they lived in simple obedience, they walked in charity and patience, and so every day they advanced in spirit and gained great favour with God. They were given for example to all religious, and ought more to excite us to advance in good, than the number of lukewarm to induce us to grow remiss. Oh! how great was the fervour of all religious in the beginning of their holy institute! Oh, how great was their devotion in prayer, how great was their zeal for virtue! How vigorous the discipline that was kept up, what reverence and obedience, under the rule of the superior, flourished in all! Their traces that remain still bear witness, that they were truly holy and perfect men who did battle so stoutly, and trampled the world under their feet. Now, he is thought great who is not a transgressor; and who can, with patience, endure what he has undertaken. Ah, the luke-warmness and negligence of our state! that we soon fall away from our first fervour, and are even now tired with life, from slothfulness and tepidity. Oh that advancement in virtue be not quite asleep in thee, who has so often seen the manifold examples of the devout!

Now turn to page 1, For Prayers, etc.

EIGHTH DAY

Imitation: Book 1, Chapter 13

Of resisting temptations

As long as we live in this world, we cannot be without temptations and tribulations. Hence it is written in Job

“Man’s life on earth is a temptation.” Everyone therefore should he solicitous about his temptations and watch in prayer lest the devil find an opportunity to catch him: who never sleeps, but goes about, seeking whom he can devour. No one is so perfect and holy as sometimes not to have temptations and we can never be wholly free from them. Nevertheless, temptations are very profitable to man, troublesome and grievous though they may be, for in them, a man is humbled, purified and instructed. All the Saints passed through many tribulations and temptations and were purified by them. And they that could not support temptations, became reprobate, and fell away.

Many seek to flee temptations, and fall worse into them. We cannot conquer by flight alone, but by patience and true humility we become stronger than all our enemies. He who only declines them outwardly, and does not pluck out their root, will profit little; nay, temptations will sooner return and he will find himself in a worse condition. By degrees and by patience you will, by God’s grace, better overcome them than by harshness and your own importunity. Take council the oftener in temptation, and do not deal harshly with one who is tempted; but pour in consolation, as thou wouldst wish to be done unto yourself. Inconstancy of mind and little confidence in God, is the beginning of all temptations. For as a ship without a helm is driven to and fro by the waves, so the man who neglects and gives up his resolutions is tempted in many ways.

Now turn to page 1, For Prayers, etc.

NINTH DAY

Imitation: Book 1, Chapter 13

Fire tries iron, and temptation a just man. We often know not what we are able to do, but temptations discover what we are. Still, we must watch, especially in the beginning of temptation; for then the enemy is more easily overcome, if he be not suffered to enter the door of the mind, but is withstood upon the threshold the very moment he knocks. Whence a certain one has said “Resist beginnings; all too late the cure.” When ills have gathered strength, by long delay, first there comes from the mind a simple thought; then a strong imagination, afterwards delight, and the evil motion and consent and so, little by little the fiend does gain entrance, when he is not resisted in the beginning. The longer anyone has been slothful in resisting, so much the weaker he becomes, daily in himself, and the enemy, so much the stronger in him. Some suffer grievous temptations in the beginning of their conversion, others in the end and others are troubled nearly their whole life. Some are very lightly tempted, according to the wisdom and the equity of the ordinance of God who weighs man’s condition and merits, and preordaineth all things for the salvation of His elect. We must not, therefore, despair when we are tempted, but the more fervently pray to God to help us in every tribulation: Who, of a truth, according to the sayings of St. Paul, will make such issue with the temptation, that we are able to sustain it.

Let us then humble our souls under the hand of God in every temptation and tribulation, for the humble in spirit, He will save and exalt. In temptation and tribulations, it is proved what progress man has made; and there also is great merit, and virtue is made more manifest. Now turn to page 1, For Prayers, etc.

TENTH DAY

Imitation: Book 3, Chapter 10

That it is sweet to despise the world and to serve God

Now, will I speak again, O Lord, and will not be silent, I will say in the hearing of my God and my King Who is on high: Oh, how great is the abundance of Thy sweetness, O Lord, which Thou hast hidden for those that fear Thee! But what art Thou, for those who love Thee? What, to those who serve Thee with their whole heart? Unspeakable indeed is the sweetness of Thy contemplation, which Thou bestowest on those who love Thee. In this most of all hast Thou showed me the sweetness of Thy love, that when I had no being, Thou didst make me; and when I was straying far from Thee, Thou brought me back again, that I might serve Thee: and Thou hast commanded me to serve Thee. O Fountain of everlasting love, what shall I say of Thee? How can I forget Thee, Who hast vouchsafed to remember me even after I was corrupted and lost? Beyond all hope Thou showest mercy to Thy servant; and beyond all desert, hast Thou manifested Thy grace and friendship. What return shall I make to Thee for this favour? For it is granted to all who forsake these things, to renounce the world, and to assume the monastic life. Is it much that I should serve Thee, Whom the whole creation is bound to serve? It ought not to seem much to me to serve Thee; but this does rather appear great and wonderful to me, that Thou vouchsafest to receive one so wretched and unworthy as Thy servant.

It is a great honour, a great glory, to serve Thee, and to despise all things for Thee, for they who willingly subject themselves to Thy holy service, shall have great grace. They shall experience the most sweet consolation of the Holy Spirit, Who for the love of Thee, have cast aside all carnal delight.

Now turn to page 1, For Prayers, etc.

ELEVENTH DAY

Imitation: Book 1, Chapter 25

Of the Fervent Amendment of our whole life

When a certain anxious person, who often times wavered between hope and fear, once overcome with sadness, threw himself upon the ground in prayer, before one of the altars in the Church and thinking these things in his mind, said “Oh, if I only knew how to persevere,” that very instant he heard within him, this heavenly answer: “And if thou didst know this, what would thou do? Do now what you would do, and thou shall be perfectly secure.” And immediately being consoled, and comforted, he committed himself to the Divine Will, and his anxious thoughts ceased. He no longer wished for curious things; searching to find out what would happen to him, but studied rather to learn what was the acceptable and perfect will of God for the beginning and the perfection of every good work.

“Hope in the Lord,” said the Prophet, “And do all good, and inhabit the land, and thou shall be fed of the riches thereof.” There is one thing that keeps many back from spiritual progress, and from fervor in amendment namely: the labour that is necessary for the struggle. And assuredly they especially advance beyond others in virtues, who strive the most manfully to overcome the very things which are the hardest and most contrary to them. For there a man does profit more and merit more abundant grace, when he does most to overcome himself and mortify his spirit. All have not, indeed; equal difficulties to overcome and mortify, but a diligent and zealous person will make a greater progress though he have more passions than another, who is well regulated but less fervent in the pursuit of virtues.

Now turn to page 1, For Prayers, etc.

TWELFTH DAY

Imitation: Book 1, Chapter 25

And, whatever you see that is worthy of blame, take care that you do not do yourself; or if you have ever done so, study to amend as soon as possible. As your eye observes others, so again, you are observed by others. How pleasant and sweet it is to see brethren fervent and devout, well-mannered and well-disciplined! How sad and afflicting to see them disorderly, and not practicing the things they are called to do. How mischievous it is to neglect that purpose of their vocations, and to turn their minds to what is not their business. Be mindful of the purpose you have undertaken, and place before you the image of the Crucified. Well may you be ashamed when looking into the Life of Jesus Christ, that as yet you have not studied more to conform yourself to Him, long as you have been in the way of God.

The religious who exercises himself earnestly and devoutly in the most holy life and Passion of our Lord shall find there abundantly all that is useful and necessary for him, nor need he seek out of Jesus, for anything better. Oh, if the Crucified Jesus, should come into your heart, how quickly and sufficiently learned would you be. The fervent and diligent man is ready for all things. It is harder labour to withstand our vices and passions then to toil at bodily labours. He that shuns not small defects, little by little, falls into greater ones. You will always be glad in the evening if you spent the day profitably. Watch over yourself, stir up yourself, and whatever may become of others, neglect not yourself. In proportion as you do violence to yourself, the greater progress will you make. Amen . . .

END PART 1

Now turn to page 1, For Prayers, etc.

PART II

THEME: KNOWLEDGE OF SELF

Prayers, examens, reflection, acts of renouncement of our own will, of contrition for our sins, of contempt of self—all performed at the feet of Mary, for it is from her that we hope for light to know ourselves. It is near her, that we shall be able to measure the abyss of our miseries without despairing. We should employ all our pious actions in asking for a knowledge of ourselves and contrition of our sins: and we should do this in a spirit of piety. During this period, we shall consider not so much the opposition that exists between the spirit of Jesus and ours, as the miserable and humiliating state to which our sins have reduced us. Moreover, the True Devotion being an easy, short, sure and perfect way to arrive at that union with Our Lord, which is Christ-like perfection, we shall enter seriously upon this way, strongly convinced of our misery and helplessness. But, how attain this without a knowledge of ourselves?

PRAYERS TO BE RECITED DURING THESE NEXT SEVEN DAYS (FROM THE 13TH DAY TO THE 19TH DAY)

LITANY OF THE HOLY GHOST

(For private devotion only)

Lord, have mercy on us.

Christ, have mercy on us.

Lord, have mercy on us.

Father, all powerful, have mercy on us.

Jesus, Eternal Son of the Father, Redeemer of the world, save us. Spirit of the Father and the Son, boundless life of both, sanctify us. Holy Trinity, hear us.

Holy Ghost, Who proceedest from the Father and the Son, enter our hearts. Holy Ghost, Who art equal to the Father and the Son, enter our hearts. Promise of God the Father,

Ray of heavenly light,

Author of all good,

Source of heavenly water,

Consuming Fire,

Ardent Charity,

Spiritual unction,

Spirit of love and truth,

Spirit of wisdom and understanding,

Spirit of counsel and fortitude,

Spirit of knowledge and piety,

Spirit of the fear of the Lord,

Spirit of grace and prayer,

Spirit of peace and meekness,

Spirit of modesty and innocence,

Holy Ghost, the Comforter,

Holy Ghost, the Sanctifier,

Holy Ghost, Who governest the Church,

Gift of God, the Most High

Spirit of the adoption of the children of God,

Holy Ghost, inspire us with the horror of sin,

Holy Ghost, come and renew the face of the earth,

Holy Ghost, shed Thy light in our souls,

Holy Ghost, engrave the law in our hearts,

Holy Ghost, inflame us with the flame of Thy love,

Holy Ghost, open to us the treasures of thy Graces,

Holy Ghost, teach us to pray well.

Holy Ghost, enlighten us with Thy heavenly inspirations.

Holy Ghost, lead us in the way of salvation.

Holy Ghost, grant us the only necessary knowledge.

Holy Ghost, inspire in us the practice of good.

Holy Ghost, grant us the merits of all virtues.

Holy Ghost, make us persevere in justice.

Holy Ghost, be Thou our everlasting reward.

Lamb of God, Who takest away the sins of the world, send us Thy Holy Ghost.

Lamb of God, Who takest away the sins of the world, pour down into our souls the gifts of the Holy Ghost. Lamb of God, Who takest away the sins of the world, grant us the Spirit of wisdom and piety. V/. Come, Holy Ghost! Fill the hearts of Thy faithful.

R/. And enkindle in them the fire of Thy love.

Let us pray

Grant, O merciful Father, that Thy Divine Spirit enlighten, inflame and purify us, that He may penetrate us with His heavenly dew and make us fruitful in good works; through our Lord Jesus Christ, Thy Son, Who with Thee, in the unity of the same Spirit, liveth and reigneth forever and ever. Amen.

LITANY OF THE BLESSED VIRGIN

Lord, have mercy on us.

Christ, have mercy on us.

Lord, have mercy on us.

Christ hear us.

Christ, graciously hear us.

God the Father of heaven, have mercy on us. God the Son, Redeemer of the world, have mercy on us. God the Holy Ghost, have mercy on us.

Holy Trinity, one God, have mercy on us.

Holy Mary, pray for us.

Holy Mother of God,

Holy Virgin of virgins,

Mother of Christ,

Mother of divine grace,

Mother most pure,

Mother most chaste,

Mother inviolate,

Mother undefiled,

Mother most amiable,

Mother most admirable,

Mother of good counsel,

Mother of our Creator,

Mother of our Savior,

Virgin most prudent,

Virgin most venerable,

Virgin most renowned,

Virgin most powerful,

Virgin most merciful,

Virgin most faithful,

Mirror of justice,

Seat of wisdom,

Cause of our joy,

Spiritual vessel,

Vessel of honour,

Singular vessel of devotion,

Mystical rose,

Tower of David,

Tower of ivory,

House of gold,

Ark of the covenant,

Gate of heaven,

Morning Star,

Health of the Sick,

Refuge of sinners,

Comforter of the afflicted,

Help of Christians,

Queen of angels,

Queen of patriarchs,

Queen of prophets,

Queen of Apostles,

Queen of martyrs,

Queen of confessors,

Queen of virgins,

Queen of all saints,

Queen conceived without original sin,

Queen assumed into heaven,

Queen of the most holy Rosary,

Queen of peace.

Lamb of God, Who takest away the sins of world, spare us, O Lord. Lamb of God, Who takest away the sins of the world, graciously hear us, O Lord. Lamb of God, Who takest away the sins of the world, have mercy on us. V/. Pray for us, O holy Mother of God.

R/. That we may be made worthy of the promises of Christ.

Let us pray

Grant unto us, Thy servants, we beseech Thee, O Lord God, at all times to enjoy health of soul and body; and by the glorious intercession of Blessed Mary, ever virgin, when freed from the sorrows of this present life, to enter into that joy which hath no end. Through Christ our Lord. R/. Amen.

(Indulgence of seven years. Plenary indulgence, under the usual conditions, if recited with the versicle and oration daily for a month.-Preces et Pia Opera, 290.)

AVE MARIS STELLA

Hail, bright star of ocean, God’s own Mother blest, Ever sinless Virgin,

Gate of heavenly rest.

Taking that sweet Ave Which from Gabriel came, Peace confirm within us, Changing Eva’s name.

Break the captives’ fetters, Light on blindness pour, All our ills expelling, Every bliss implore.

Show thyself a Mother;

May the Word Divine,

Born for us thy Infant,

Hear our prayers through thine.

Virgin all excelling,

Mildest of the mild,

Freed from guilt, preserve us, Pure and undefiled.

Keep our life all spotless, Make our way secure, Till we find in Jesus

Joy forevermore.

Through the highest heaven

To the Almighty Three,

Father, Son and Spirit,

One same glory be. Amen.

(Indulgence of three years. Plenary indulgence, under the usual conditions, if recited daily for a month. -Preces et

Pia Opera, 292.)

THIRTEENTH DAY

And it came to pass, that as He was in a certain place praying, when He ceased, one of His disciples said to Him, Lord, teach us to pray, as John also taught his disciples. And He said to them: when you pray, say: Father, hallowed be Thy Name. Thy Kingdom come. Give us this day our daily bread. And forgive us our sins, for we also forgive every one that is indebted to us. And lead us not into temptation. And He said to them: which of you shall have a friend, and shall go to him at midnight, and shall say to him: Friend, lend me three loaves, because a friend of mine is come off his journey to me, and I have not what to set before him. And he from within should answer and say: trouble me not, the door is now shut and my children are with me in bed; I cannot rise and give thee. Yet, if he shall continue knocking, I say to you although he will not rise and give him because he is a friend, yet because of his importunity he will rise and give him as many as he needeth. And I say to you: ask and it shall be given to you; seek, and you shall find; knock, and it shall be opened to you.

Now turn to page 8, For Prayers, etc.

FOURTEENTH DAY

Imitation: Book 3, Chapter 13

Of the obedience of a humble heart; after the example of Jesus Christ

Son, he who strives to withdraw himself from obedience, withdraws himself from grace, and he that seeks particular privileges loses much as are in common. He who does not freely and willingly submit himself to his superior shows that his flesh is not as yet perfectly obedient, but instead is often rebellious. Learn then to submit yourself readily to your superior, if you desire to subdue your own flesh. For sooner is the exterior enemy overcome, if the inward man be not laid waste; there is not a more troublesome or worrisome enemy to the soul than yourself when you are not agreeing with the spirit. You must in earnest conceive a true contempt of yourself, if you will prevail against flesh and blood, because as yet, you love yourself too inordinately, therefore do you fear to resign yourself entirely to the will of others. But what great matter is this, if you who are but dust and a mere nothing, submit yourself to man for God’s sake, when I the Almighty, and the Most High, Who created all things out of nothing for thy sake, humbly subjected Myself to man.

Imitation: Of the obedience of a humble heart; after the example of Jesus Christ

I became the most humble and the most subject of all men, that you might overcome your pride. Learn O dust, to obey; learn to humble yourself, and how to bow under the feet of all. Learn to break your own will, and yield yourself up to all subjection.

Now turn to page 8, For Prayers, etc.

FIFTEENTH DAY

St. Luke: Chapter 13, 1–5

And there were present, at that very time, some that told Him of the Galileans, whose blood Pilate had mingled with their sacrifices. And He answering, said to them: Think you, that these Galileans were sinners above all the men of Galilee, because they suffered such things? No, I say to you: but unless you do penance, you shall all likewise perish. Or those eighteen upon whom the tower fell in Siloe, and slew them: think you, that they also were debtors above all the men that dwelt in Jerusalem? No, I say to you; but except you do penance, you shall all likewise perish.

True Devotion: No. 81, 82 We need Mary in order to die to ourselves

In order to rid ourselves of self, we must die to ourselves daily. This is to say, we must renounce the operations of the powers of our soul, and the senses of our body. We must see as if we saw not, understand as if we understood not and make use of all the things of this world, as if we made no use of them at all. This is what St. Paul calls dying daily: “Unless the grain of wheat falling in the ground die, itself remaineth alone, and bringeth forth no good fruit.” If we do not die to ourselves, and if the holiest devotions do not incline us to the necessary and useful death, we shall bring forth no fruit worth anything, and our devotion will become useless.

We must choose, therefore among all the devotions to the Blessed Virgin, the one which draws us most toward this death to ourselves, inasmuch as it will be the best and most sanctifying.

Now turn to page 8, For Prayers, etc.

SIXTEENTH DAY

True Devotion: No. 228

Preparatory Exercises

During the first week, we should offer up all our prayers and pious actions to ask for a knowledge of ourselves and contrition for our sins: and we should do this in a spirit of humility. For that end, we can, if we choose meditate on our inward corruption, as explained before. We can look upon ourselves, during these days, as snails, crawling things, toads, swine, serpents, and unclean animals; or we can reflect on the three considerations of St. Bernard: the vileness of our origin, the dishonours of our present state, and our ending as food for worms. We should pray our Lord and the Holy Ghost to enlighten us, and for that we might use the ejaculation, “Lord, that I may see!” or “May I know myself” or “Come Holy Ghost,” together with the Litany of the Holy Ghost. We should have recourse to the Blessed Virgin and ask her to grant this immense grace, which must be the foundation of all others, for this end, we should say daily: Ave Maris Stella, and the Litany of the Blessed Virgin.

Imitation: Book 2, Chapter 5

Of self-consideration

We may not trust too much of ourselves; for the grace and understanding are often wanting in us; there is but little light and this we may soon lose by negligence. Oftentimes we are quite unconscious how blind we are. We often do amiss, and do worse in excusing ourselves. Sometimes we are moved by passion, and think it zeal. We blame little things in others and overlook great things in ourselves. We are quick enough in perceiving and weighing what we bear from others; but we think little of what others have to bear with us. He that should well and justly weigh his own doings would find little cause to judge harshly of another.

Now turn to page 8, For Prayers, etc.

SEVENTEENTH DAY

Imitation: Book 1, Chapter 24

Of judgment and punishment of sinners

In all things look to the end and how will you stand before the strict judge, from Whom there is nothing hid, Who takes no bribes, receives no excuses, but will judge that which is just. O miserable sinner, O foolish sinner, what will you answer to God, Who knows all your evil deeds. You who are sometimes afraid of an angry man? Why don’t you provide yourself against the day of judgment? When no man can be excused or defended by another, but each one will have enough to answer for himself?

St. Luke: Chapter 16, 1–8

And he said also to his disciples: there was a certain rich man who had a steward; and the same was accused unto him, that he had wasted his goods. And he called him, and said to him: How is it that I hear this of thee? Give an account of thy stewardship: for now thou canst be steward no longer. And the steward said within himself: what shall I do, because my Lord taketh away from me the stewardship? To dig, I am not able; to beg, I am ashamed. I know what I will do, that when I shall be removed from the stewardship, they may receive me into their houses. Therefore calling together every one of his lord’s debtors, he said to the first: How much dost thou owe my Lord? But he said: an hundred barrels of oil, And he said to him: take thy bill, set down quickly and write fifty. Then he said to another: And how much dost thou owe? Who said: An hundred quarters of wheat. He said to him: take thy bill, and write eighty. And the Lord commended the unjust steward, for as much as he had done wisely: for the children of this world are wiser in their generation than the children of light.

Now turn to page 8, For Prayers, etc.

EIGHTEENTH DAY

And he said to his disciples: It is impossible that scandals should not come. But woe to him through whom they come! It were better for him, that a millstone were hanged about his neck, and he cast into the sea, than that he should scandalize one of these little ones. Take heed to yourselves. If thy brother sin against thee, reprove him; and if he do penance, forgive him. And if he sin against thee seven times a day, and seven times a day be converted unto thee, saying: I repent. Forgive him. And the apostles said to the Lord: Increase our faith. And the Lord said: If you had faith like to a grain of mustard seed, you might say to this mulberry tree: Be thou rooted up, and be thou transplanted into the sea. And it would obey you. But which of you having a servant, ploughing or feeding cattle, will say to him, when he is come from the field: Immediately go. Sit down to meat. And will not rather say to him: Make ready my supper, and gird thyself, and serve me, whilst I eat and drink, and afterwards thou shalt eat and drink? Doth he thank that servant, for doing the things which he commanded him? I think not. So you also, when you shall have done all these things that are commanded you, say: we are unprofitable servants; we have done that which we ought to do.

Imitation: Book 3, Chapter 47

That all grievous things are to be endured for life everlasting

Son, let not your labours which you have undertaken for My sake crush thee, neither let tribulations, from whatever source, cast you down, but in every occurrence let My promise strengthen and console you. I am sufficient in recompense to you beyond all bounds and measures. It is not long you have to labour here, nor will you always be oppressed with sorrows. Wait a little while and you shall see a speedy end of suffering.

Now turn to page 8, For Prayers, etc.

NINETEENTH DAY

St. Luke: Chapter 18, 15–30

And they brought also unto him, infants that he might touch them. Which when the disciples saw, they rebuked them. But Jesus, calling them together, said: Suffer children to come unto me, and forbid them not; for of such is the kingdom of heaven. Amen, I say to you: Whosoever shall not receive the kingdom of God as a child, shall not enter into it. And a certain ruler, asked him, saying: Good Master, what shall I do to possess everlasting life? And Jesus said to him: Why dost thou call me good? None is good but God alone. Thou knowest the commandments: Thou shalt not kill: Thou shalt not commit adultery: Thou shalt not steal: Thou shalt not bear false witness: Honourthy father and mother. Who said: All these things have I kept from my youth. Which, when Jesus had heard, he said to him: Yet, one thing is wanting thee. Sell all whatever thou hast, and give it to the poor, and then thou shalt have treasure in heaven; and come, follow me. He having heard these things, became sorrowful; for he was very rich. And Jesus, seeing him become sorrowful, said: How hardly shalt they that have riches enter into the kingdom of God. For it is easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle, than for a rich man to enter into the kingdom of God. And they that heard it said: Who then can be saved? He said to them: The things that are impossible with men are possible with God. Then Peter said. Behold, we have left all things, and followed thee. Who said to them: Amen, I say to you, there is no man that hath left house, or parents, brethren or wife, or children, for the kingdom of God’s sake, who shall not receive much more in this present time, and in the world to come life everlasting.

Now turn to page 8, For Prayers, etc.

PART III

THEME: KNOWLEDGE OF MARY

Acts of love, pious affections for the Blessed Virgin, imitation of her virtues, especially her profound humility, her lively faith, her blind obedience, her continual mental prayer, her mortification in all things, her ardent charity, her heroic patience, her angelic sweetness and her divine wisdom: “these being,” as St. Louis De Montfort says, “the ten principal virtues of the Blessed Virgin.”

We must unite ourselves to Jesus through Mary -this is the characteristic of our devotion; therefore Saint Louis De Montfort asks that we employ ourselves in acquiring a knowledge of the Blessed Virgin. Mary is our sovereign and our mediatrix, our Mother and our Mistress. Let us then endeavour to know the effects of this royalty, of this mediation, and of this maternity, as well as the grandeurs and prerogatives which are the foundation or consequences thereof. Our Blessed Mother is also perfect-a mould wherein we are able to be moulded in order to make her intentions and dispositions ours. This we cannot achieve without studying the interior life of Mary, namely, her virtues, her sentiments, her actions, her participation in the mysteries of Christ and her union with Him.

PRAYERS TO BE RECITED DURING THESE NEXT SEVEN DAYS

LITANY OF THE HOLY GHOST

(For private devotion only)

Lord, have mercy on us.

Christ, have mercy on us.

Lord, have mercy on us.

Father, all powerful, have mercy on us.

Jesus, Eternal Son of the Father, Redeemer of the world, save us. Spirit of the Father and the Son, boundless life of both, sanctify us. Holy Trinity, hear us.

Holy Ghost, Who proceedest from the Father and the Son, enter our hearts. Holy Ghost, Who art equal to the Father and the Son, enter our hearts. Promise of God the Father,

Ray of heavenly light,

Author of all good,

Source of heavenly water,

Consuming Fire,

Ardent Charity,

Spiritual unction,

Spirit of love and truth,

Spirit of wisdom and understanding,

Spirit of counsel and fortitude,

Spirit of knowledge and piety,

Spirit of the fear of the Lord,

Spirit of grace and prayer,

Spirit of peace and meekness,

Spirit of modesty and innocence,

Holy Ghost, the Comforter,

Holy Ghost, the Sanctifier,

Holy Ghost, Who governest the Church,

Gift of God, the Most High

Spirit of the adoption of the children of God,

Holy Ghost, inspire us with the horror of sin,

Holy Ghost, come and renew the face of the earth,

Holy Ghost, shed Thy light in our souls,

Holy Ghost, engrave the law in our hearts,

Holy Ghost, inflame us with the flame of Thy love,

Holy Ghost, open to us the treasures of thy Graces,

Holy Ghost, teach us to pray well.

Holy Ghost, enlighten us with Thy heavenly inspirations.

Holy Ghost, lead us in the way of salvation.

Holy Ghost, grant us the only necessary knowledge.

Holy Ghost, inspire in us the practice of good.

Holy Ghost, grant us the merits of all virtues.

Holy Ghost, make us persevere in justice.

Holy Ghost, be Thou our everlasting reward.

Lamb of God, Who takest away the sins of the world, send us Thy Holy Ghost.

Lamb of God, Who takest away the sins of the world, pour down into our souls the gifts of the Holy Ghost. Lamb of God, Who takest away the sins of the world, grant us the Spirit of wisdom and piety. V/. Come, Holy Ghost! Fill the hearts of Thy faithful.

R/. And enkindle in them the fire of Thy love.

Let us pray

Grant, O merciful Father, that Thy Divine Spirit enlighten, inflame and purify us, that He may penetrate us with

His heavenly dew and make us fruitful in good works; through our Lord Jesus Christ, Thy Son, Who with Thee, in the unity of the same Spirit, liveth and reigneth forever and ever. Amen.

LITANY OF THE BLESSED VIRGIN

Lord, have mercy on us.

Christ, have mercy on us.

Lord, have mercy on us.

Christ hear us.

Christ, graciously hear us.

God the Father of heaven, have mercy on us.

God the Son, Redeemer of the world, have mercy on us. God the Holy Ghost, have mercy on us.

Holy Trinity, one God, have mercy on us.

Holy Mary, pray for us.

Holy Mother of God,

Holy Virgin of virgins,

Mother of Christ,

Mother of divine grace,

Mother most pure,

Mother most chaste,

Mother inviolate,

Mother undefiled,

Mother most amiable,

Mother most admirable,

Mother of good counsel,

Mother of our Creator,

Mother of our Savior,

Virgin most prudent,

Virgin most venerable,

Virgin most renowned,

Virgin most powerful,

Virgin most merciful,

Virgin most faithful,

Mirror of justice,

Seat of wisdom,

Cause of our joy,

Spiritual vessel,

Vessel of honour,

Singular vessel of devotion,

Mystical rose,

Tower of David,

Tower of ivory,

House of gold,

Ark of the covenant,

Gate of heaven,

Morning Star,

Health of the Sick,

Refuge of sinners,

Comforter of the afflicted,

Help of Christians,

Queen of angels,

Queen of patriarchs,

Queen of prophets,

Queen of Apostles,

Queen of martyrs,

Queen of confessors,

Queen of virgins,

Queen of all saints,

Queen conceived without original sin,

Queen assumed into heaven,

Queen of the most holy Rosary,

Queen of peace.

Lamb of God, Who takest away the sins of world, spare us, O Lord.

Lamb of God, Who takest away the sins of the world, graciously hear us, O Lord.

Lamb of God, Who takest away the sins of the world, have mercy on us.

V/. Pray for us, O holy Mother of God.

R/. That we may be made worthy of the promises of Christ.

Let us pray

Grant unto us, Thy servants, we beseech Thee, O Lord God, at all times to enjoy health of soul and body; and by the glorious intercession of Blessed Mary, ever virgin, when freed from the sorrows of this present life, to enter into that joy which hath no end. Through Christ our Lord. R/. Amen.

(Indulgence of seven years. Plenary indulgence, under the usual conditions, if recited with the versicle and oration daily for a month.—Preces et Pia Opera, 290.)

AVE MARIS STELLA

Hail, bright star of ocean, God’s own Mother blest, Ever sinless Virgin,

Gate of heavenly rest.

Taking that sweet Ave Which from Gabriel came, Peace confirm within us, Changing Eva’s name. Break the captives’ fetters, Light on blindness pour, All our ills expelling, Every bliss implore.

Show thyself a Mother;

May the Word Divine,

Born for us thy Infant,

Hear our prayers through thine.

Virgin all excelling,

Mildest of the mild,

Freed from guilt, preserve us, Pure and undefiled.

Keep our life all spotless, Make our way secure, Till we find in Jesus

Joy forevermore.

Through the highest heaven

To the Almighty Three,

Father, Son and Spirit,

One same glory be. Amen.

(Indulgence of three years. Plenary indulgence, under the usual conditions, if recited daily for a month. -Preces et

Pia Opera, 292.)

ST. LOUIS DE MONTFORT’S PRAYER TO MARY

Hail Mary, beloved Daughter of the Eternal Father. Hail Mary, admirable Mother of the Son. Hail Mary, faithful Spouse of the Holy Ghost. Hail Mary, my Mother, my loving Mistress, my powerful sovereign. Hail, my joy, my glory, my heart and my soul. Thou art all mine by mercy, and I am thine by justice. But I am not yet sufficiently thine. I now give myself wholly to thee without keeping anything back for myself or others. If thou seest anything in me which does not belong to thee, I beseech thee to take it and make thyself the absolute Mistress of all that is mine.

Destroy in me all that may displease God; root it up and bring it to nought. Place and cultivate in me everything that is pleasing to thee. May the light of thy faith dispel the darkness of my mind. May thy profound humility take the place of my pride; may thy sublime contemplation check the distractions of my wandering imagination. May the continuous sight of God fill my memory with His presence; may the burning love of thy heart inflame the lukewarmness of mine. May thy virtues take the place of my sins; may thy merits be my only adornment in the sight of God and make up for all that is wanting in me. Finally, dearly beloved Mother, grant if it be possible, that I may have no other spirit but thine to know Jesus, and His Divine Will; that I may have no other soul but thine to praise and glorify God; that I may have no other heart but thine to love God with a love as pure and ardent as thine.

I do not ask thee for visions, revelations, sensible devotions, or spiritual pleasures. It is thy privilege to see God clearly, it is thy privilege to enjoy heavenly bliss; it is thy privilege to triumph gloriously in heaven at the right hand of thy Son and to hold absolute sway over angels, men and demons,

It is thy privilege to dispose of all the gifts of God, just as thou willest. Such is, O heavenly Mary, the ‘best part,’ which the Lord hast given thee, and which shall never be taken away from thee-and this thought, fills my heart with joy. As for my part here below, I wish for no other than that which was thine, to believe sincerely without spiritual pleasures, to suffer joyfully without human consolation, to die continually to myself without respite, and to work zealously and unselfishly for thee until death, as the humblest of thy servants. The only grace I beg thee, for me, is that every moment of the day, and every moment of my life, I may say -”Amen, so be it, to all that thou art doing in heaven. Amen; so be it, to all thou didst do while on earth. Amen, so be it, to all thou art doing in my soul,” so that thou alone mayest fully glorify Jesus in me for time and eternity. Amen.

Recitation of the Rosary . . .

TWENTIETH DAY

St. Luke: Chapter 2, 16–21; 42.52

And they came with haste, and they found Mary and Joseph, and the infant lying in a manger. And, seeing, they understood of the word that had been spoken to them concerning this child. And all that heard wondered at those things that were told them by the shepherds. But Mary kept all these words, pondering them in her heart. And the shepherds returned, praising and glorifying God, for all the things that they had heard and seen as it was told unto them. And after eight days were accomplished, that the child should be circumcised, his Name was called Jesus, which was called by the angel before he was conceived in the womb. . . .

And when he was twelve years old, they going up to Jerusalem, according to the custom of the feast, and having fulfilled the days, when they returned, the child Jesus remained in Jerusalem. And, his parents knew it not. And thinking that He was in the company, they came a day’s journey, and sought him among their kinsfolk and acquaintance. And not finding him, they returned into Jerusalem seeking him. And it came to pass, that, after three days, they found him in the temple, sitting in the midst of the doctors, hearing them, and asking them questions. And all that heard him were astonished at his wisdom and his answers.

And seeing him, they wondered. And his Mother said to him: Son, why hast thou done so to us? Behold, thy Father and I have sought thee sorrowing. And He said to them: How is it that you sought me? Did you not know that I must be about my Father’s business? And they understood not the word that He spoke unto them. And He went down with them, and came to Nazareth, and was subject to them. And His Mother kept all these words in her heart. And Jesus advanced in wisdom, and age, and grace with God and men.

Now turn to page 14, For Prayers, etc.

TWENTY-FIRST DAY

Secret of Mary: Nos. 23–24

True Devotion to Our Blessed Lady

If we would go up to God, and be united with Him, we must use the same means He used to come down to us to he made Man and to impart His graces to us. This means is a true devotion to our Blessed Lady. There are several true devotions to our Lady: here I do not speak of those which are false.

The first consists in fulfilling our Christian duties, avoiding mortal sin, acting more out of love than with fear, praying to our Lady now and then, honouring her as the Mother of God, yet without having any special devotion to her. The second consists in entertaining for our Lady more perfect feelings of esteem and love, of confidence and veneration. It leads us to join the Confraternities of the Holy Rosary and of the Scapular, to recite the five decades of the Holy Rosary (the fifteen mysteries), to honour Mary’s images and altars, to publish her praises and to enroll ourselves into her sodalities. This devotion is good, holy and praiseworthy if we keep ourselves free from sin. But it is not so perfect as the best, nor so efficient in severing our soul from creatures, in detaching ourselves in order to be united with Jesus Christ.

The third devotion to our Lady, known and practiced by very few persons, is this I am about to disclose to you, predestinate soul. It consists in giving one’s self entirely and as a slave to Mary, and to Jesus through Mary, and after that, to do all that we do, through Mary, with Mary, in Mary and for Mary. We should choose a special feast-day on which we give, consecrate and sacrifice to Mary, voluntarily, lovingly and without constraint, entirely and without reserve: our body and soul, our exterior property, such as a house, family and income, and also our interior and spiritual possessions: namely, our merits, graces, virtues, and satisfactions.

Now turn to page 14, For Prayers, etc.

TWENTY-SECOND DAY

True Devotion: Nos. 105–110.

The characteristics of true devotion

Interior: True Devotion to our Lady is interior: that is, it comes from the mind and the heart, it flows from the esteem we have for her, the high idea we have formed of her greatness and the love which we have for her.

Tender: It is tender, that is, full of confidence in her like a child’s confidence in his loving Mother. This confidence makes the soul have recourse to her in all its bodily and mental necessities, with much simplicity, trust and tenderness.

Holy: This devotion to our Lady is holy: that is to say, it leads the soul to avoid sin and imitate the virtues of the Blessed Virgin, particularly her profound humility, her lively faith, her blind obedience, her continual prayer, her universal mortification, her divine purity, her ardent charity, her heroic patience, her angelic sweetness and her divine wisdom. These are the ten principal virtues of the most holy Virgin.

Constant: It is constant, that is to say, it confirms the soul in good, and does not let it, easily abandon its spiritual exercises. It makes it courageous in opposing the world and its fashions and maxims, the flesh in its weariness and passions; and the devil in his temptations, so that a person truly devout to our Blessed Lady is neither changeable, irritable, scrupulous or timid.

Disinterested: True Devotion to our Lady is disinterested: that is to say, it inspires the soul not to seek, itself but God only, and God in His holy Mother. A true client of Mary does not serve that august Queen from a spirit of lucre and interest, nor for his own good, whether temporal or eternal, corporal or spiritual, but exclusively because she deserves to be served and God alone in her.

Now turn to page 14, For Prayers, etc.

TWENTY-THIRD DAY

True Devotion: Nos. 120, 121

Nature of perfect devotion to the Blessed Virgin or perfect consecration to Jesus Christ

All our perfections consist in being conformed, united and consecrated to Jesus Christ; and therefore the most perfect of all devotions is, without any doubt, that which the most perfectly conforms, unites and consecrates us to Jesus Christ. Now Mary, being the most conformed of all creatures to Jesus Christ, it follows that of all devotions, that which most consecrates and conforms the soul to our Lord is devotion to His holy Mother. That the more a soul is consecrated to Mary, the more it is consecrated to Jesus Christ (Sec. 120). Hence it comes to pass that the most perfect consecration to Jesus Christ is nothing else but a perfect consecration, of ourselves, to the Blessed Virgin, and this is the devotion which I teach; or, in other words, a perfect renewal of the vows and promises of Holy Baptism. This devotion, consists then, in giving ourselves entirely to our Lady, in order to belong entirely to Jesus Christ, through her.

We must give her: Our body, with all its senses and members; our soul with all its power; our exterior goods of fortune, whether present or to come; our interior and spiritual goods, which are our merits, our virtues and our good works, past, present, and future. In a word, we must give her all we have in the order of nature and in the order of grace and all that may become ours in the future in the orders of nature, grace and glory; and this we must do without reserve of so much as one farthing, one hair, or one least good intention. We must do it also for eternity, and we must do it without pretending to, or hoping for any other recompense for our offering and service, except the honour of belonging to Jesus Christ, through Mary and in Mary-even though that sweet Mistress were not, as she always is, the most generous and the most grateful of creatures.

Now turn to page 14, For Prayers, etc.

TWENTY-FOURTH DAY

True Devotion: Nos. 152–164

This devotion is an easy, short, perfect and secure way of attaining union with our Lord, in which union the perfection of a Christian consists. It is an easy way: It is the way which Jesus Christ, Himself trod in coming to us in which there is no obstacle in reaching Him. It is true that we can attain divine union by other roads, but it is by many crosses and strange deaths, and with many more difficulties which we shall find it hard to overcome. It is a short way: This devotion to our Blessed Lady is a short road to find Jesus Christ, both because it is a road from which we do not stray, and because as I have just said it is a road which we tread with joy and facility, and consequently with promptitude. We make more progress in a brief period of submission to and dependence on Mary, than in whole years of following our own will and of relying upon ourselves. It is a perfect way: This practice of devotion to our Blessed Lady is also a perfect path by which to go and unite ourselves to Jesus, because the divine Mary is the most perfect and the most holy of creatures, and because Jesus, Who has come to us most perfectly, took no other road for His great and admirable journey. The Most High, the Incomprehensible, the Inaccessible, He Who is, had willed to come to us, little worms of earth, who are nothing. How has He done this? The Most High has come down to us perfectly and divinely, by the humble Mary without losing anything of His Divinity and Sanctity. So it is by Mary that the very little ones are to ascend perfectly and divinely, without any fear, to the Most High. It is a secure way: This devotion to our Blessed Lady, is also a secure way to go to Jesus and to acquire perfection, by uniting ourselves to Him. It is a secure way because the practice which I am teaching is not new. Indeed, we cannot see how it could be condemned without overturning the foundations of Christianity. It is clear then, that this devotion is not new, and that if it is not common, that is because it is too precious to be relished and practiced by everyone. This devotion is a secure means of going to Jesus Christ, because it is the very characteristic of Our Blessed Lady to conduct us surely to Jesus.

Now turn to page 14, For Prayers, etc.

TWENTY-FIFTH DAY

True Devotion: Nos. 213–225

Wonderful Effects of This Devotion

My dear brother, be sure that if you are faithful to the interior and exterior practices of this devotion which I will point out- the following effects will take place in your soul.

First Effect: By the light which the Holy Ghost will give you through His dear Spouse, Mary, you will understand your own evil, your corruption and your incapacity for anything good. In other words, the humble Mary will communicate to you a portion of her profound humility, which will make you despise yourself, despise nobody else, but love to be despised yourself.

Second Effect: Our Blessed Lady also will give you a portion of her faith, which was the greatest of all faiths, that were ever on this earth, greater than all the faiths of all the patriarchs, prophets, apostles and saints put together.

Third Effect: This Mother of fair love, will take away from your heart, all scruple and all disorder of servile fear.

Fourth Effect: Our Blessed Lady will fill you with great confidence in God and in herself because you will not be approaching Jesus by yourself, but always by that good Mother.

Fifth Effect: The soul of our Blessed Lady will communicate itself to you, to glorify the Lord. Her spirit will enter into the place of yours, to rejoice in God, her salvation, provided that only you are faithful to the practices of this devotion.

Sixth Effect: If Mary, who is the tree of life, is well cultivated in our soul by fidelity to the practices of this devotion, she will bear fruit in her own time, and her fruit is none other than Jesus Christ.

Seventh Effect: By this practice, faithfully observed, you will give Jesus more glory in a month, than by any other practice, however difficult, in many years.

Now turn to page 14, For Prayers, etc.

TWENTY-SIXTH DAY

True Devotion: Nos. 12.38

If you wish to comprehend the Mother, says a saint, comprehend the Son, for she is the worthy Mother of God.

Here, let every tongue be mute. Up to this time, the divine Mary has been unknown, and that is the reason Jesus Christ is not known as He ought to he. If then the knowledge and the kingdom of Jesus Christ, are to come into the world, they will be but a necessary consequence of the knowledge and the kingdom of the most holy Virgin Mary, who brought Him into the world for the first time, and will make His second advent full of splendour. Mary, being a mere creature that has come from the hands of the Most High, is in comparison with his infinite

Majesty less than an atom; or rather she is nothing at all, because He is “He Who Is,” consequently that grand Lord, always independent and sufficient to Himself, never had, and has not now an absolute need of the Holy Virgin for the accomplishment of His Will, and for the Manifestation of His Glory. He has but to will in order to do everything. Nevertheless, God, having willed to commence and to complete His greatest works by the Most Holy Virgin, ever since He created her, we may well think He will not change His conduct in the eternal ages; for He is God, and He changes not, either in His sentiments or in His conduct.

Mary is the Queen of heaven and earth by grace, as Jesus is the King of them by nature and by conquest. Now, as the kingdom of Jesus Christ consists principally in the heart or the interior of man—according to the words, “The Kingdom of God is within you”—in like manner the kingdom of our Blessed Lady is principally in the interior of man; that is to say, his soul. And it is principally in souls that she is more glorified with her Son than in all visible creatures, and so we can call her, as the saints do, the Queen of All Hearts.

Now turn to page 14, For Prayers, etc.

PART IV

THEME: KNOWLEDGE OF JESUS CHRIST

True Devotion: Nos. 60–67, 183, 212, 226–265

Acts of love of God, thanksgiving for the blessings of Jesus, contrition and resolution

During this period we shall apply ourselves to the study of Jesus Christ. What is to be studied in Jesus Christ? First: The Man-God, His grace and glory; then His rights to sovereign dominion over us; since, having renounced

Satan and the world, we have taken Jesus Christ as our Lord.

Second: His interior life; namely, the virtues and the acts of His Sacred Heart; His association with Mary in the mysteries of the Annunciation and Incarnation. During His infancy and hidden life at the feast of Cana and on Calvary. . . .

PRAYERS TO BE RECITED DURING THESE NEXT SEVEN DAYS

LITANY OF THE HOLY GHOST

(For Private devotion only)

Lord, have mercy on us.

Christ, have mercy on us.

Lord, have mercy on us.

Father all powerful, have mercy on us.

Jesus, Eternal Son of the Father, Redeemer of the world, save us. Spirit of the Father and the Son, boundless life of both, sanctify us. Holy Trinity, hear us.

Holy Ghost, Who proceedest from the Father and the Son, enter our hearts. Holy Ghost, Who are equal to the Father and the Son, enter our hearts. Promise of God the Father, have mercy on us

Ray of heavenly light,

Author of all good,

Source of heavenly water,

Consuming fire,

Ardent Charity,

Spiritual unction,

Spirit of love and truth,

Spirit of wisdom and understanding,

Spirit of counsel and fortitude,

Spirit of knowledge and piety,

Spirit of the fear of the Lord,

Spirit of grace and prayer,

Spirit of peace and meekness,

Spirit of modesty and innocence,

Holy Ghost, the Comforter,

Holy Ghost, the Sanctifier,

Holy Ghost, Who governest the Church,

Gift of God, the Most High,

Spirit Who fillest the universe,

Spirit of the adoption of the children of God.

Holy Ghost, inspire us with horror of sin.

Holy Ghost, come and renew the face of the earth.

Holy Ghost, shed Thy light in our souls.

Holy Ghost, engrave Thy law in our hearts.

Holy Ghost, inflame us with the flame of Thy love.

Holy Ghost, open to us the treasures of Thy graces.

Holy Ghost, teach us to pray well.

Holy Ghost, enlighten us with Thy heavenly inspirations.

Holy Ghost, lead us in the way of salvation.

Holy Ghost, grant us the only necessary knowledge.

Holy Ghost, inspire in us the practice of good.

Holy Ghost, grant us the merits of all virtues.

Holy Ghost, make us persevere in justice.

Holy Ghost, be Thou our everlasting reward.

Lamb of God, Who takest away the sins of the world, send us Thy Holy Ghost.

Lamb of God, Who takest away the sins of the world, pour down into our souls the gifts of the Holy Ghost. Lamb of God, Who takest away the sins of the world, grant us the Spirit of wisdom and piety. V/. Come, Holy Ghost! Fill the hearts of Thy faithful.

R/. And enkindle in them the fire of Thy love.

Let us pray

Grant, O merciful Father, that Thy Divine Spirit enlighten, inflame and purify us, that He may penetrate us with

His heavenly dew and make us fruitful in good works; through our Lord Jesus Christ, Thy Son, Who with Thee, in the unity of the same Spirit, liveth and reigneth forever and ever. Amen.

AVE MARIS STELLA

Hail, bright star of ocean, God’s own Mother blest, Ever sinless Virgin,

Gate of heavenly rest.

Taking that sweet Ave Which from Gabriel came, Peace confirm within us, Changing Eva’s name.

Break the captives’ fetters, Light on blindness pour, All our ills expelling, Every bliss implore.

Show thyself a Mother;

May the Word Divine,

Born for us thy Infant,

Hear our prayers through thine.

Virgin all excelling,

Mildest of the mild,

Freed from guilt, preserve us, Pure and undefiled.

Keep our life all spotless, Make our way secure, Till we find in Jesus

Joy forevermore.

Through the highest heaven

To the Almighty Three,

Father, Son and Spirit,

One same glory be. Amen.

(Indulgence of three years. Plenary indulgence, under the usual conditions, if recited daily for a month. Preces et

Pia Opera, 292.)

LITANY OF THE HOLY NAME OF JESUS LORD, HAVE MERCY ON US

Christ, have mercy on us.

Lord, have mercy on us.

Jesus, hear us.

Jesus, graciously hear us.

God the Father of heaven,

God the Son, Redeemer of the world, God the Holy Ghost,

Holy Trinity, one God.

Jesus, Son of the living God,

Jesus, splendour of the Father, Jesus, brightness of eternal light, Jesus, King of glory,

Jesus, sun of justice,

Jesus, Son of the Virgin Mary, Jesus, most amiable,

Jesus, most admirable,

Jesus, mighty God?

Jesus, Father of the world to come, Jesus, angel of the great counsel, Jesus, most powerful,

Jesus, most patient,

Jesus, most obedient,

Jesus, meek and humble of heart, Jesus, lover of chastity,

Jesus, lover of us,

Jesus, God of peace,

Jesus, author of life,

Jesus, model of virtues,

Jesus, lover of souls,

Jesus, our God,

Jesus, our refuge

Jesus, Father of the poor,

Jesus, treasure of the faithful,

Jesus, Good Shepherd,

Jesus, true light,

Jesus, eternal wisdom,

Jesus, infinite goodness,

Jesus, our way and our life,

Jesus, joy of angels,

Jesus, King of patriarchs,

Jesus, master of Apostles,

Jesus, teacher of Evangelists,

Jesus, strength of martyrs,

Jesus, light of confessors,

Jesus, purity of virgins,

Jesus, crown of all saints,

Be merciful, spare us, O Jesus.

Be merciful, graciously hear us, O Jesus.

From all evil, Jesus, deliver us

From all sin,

From Thy wrath,

From the snares of the devil,

From the spirit of fornication,

From everlasting death,

From the neglect of Thine inspirations,

Through the mystery of Thy holy Incarnation,

Through Thy nativity,

Through Thine infancy,

Through Thy most divine life,

Through Thy labours,

Through Thine agony and Passion,

Through Thy cross and dereliction,

Through Thy sufferings,

Through Thy death and burial,

Through Thy Resurrection,

Through Thine Ascension,

Through Thine institution of the most Holy Eucharist,

Through Thy joys,

Through Thy glory,

Lamb of God, Who takest away the sins of the world, spare us, O Jesus. Lamb of God, Who takest away the sins of the world, graciously hear us, O Jesus. Lamb of God, Who takest away the sins of the world, have mercy on us, O Jesus. Jesus, hear us.

Jesus, graciously hear us.

Let us pray

O Lord Jesus Christ, Who hast said: Ask and ye shall receive; seek and ye shall find; knock and it shall be opened unto you; grant, we beseech Thee, to us who ask the gift of Thy divine love, that we may ever love Thee with all our hearts, and in all our words and actions, and never cease praising Thee.

Give us, O Lord, a perpetual fear and love of Thy holy Name; for Thou never failest to govern those whom Thou dost solidly establish in Thy love. Who livest and reignest world without end. Amen.

(Indulgence of seven years. Plenary indulgence, under the usual conditions, if recited with the oration daily for a month. -Preces et Pia Opera, 89.)

ST. LOUIS DE MONTFORT’S PRAYER TO JESUS

O most loving Jesus, deign to let me pour forth my gratitude before Thee, for the grace Thou hast bestowed upon me in giving me to Thy holy Mother through the devotion of Holy Bondage, that she may be my advocate in the presence of Thy majesty and my support in my extreme misery. Alas, O Lord! I am so wretched that without this dear Mother I should be certainly lost. Yes, Mary is necessary for me at Thy side and everywhere: that she may appease Thy just wrath because I have so often offended Thee; that she may save me from the eternal punishment of Thy justice, which I deserve; that she may contemplate Thee, speak to Thee, pray to Thee, approach Thee and please Thee; that she may help me to save my soul and the souls of others; in short, Mary is necessary for me that I may always do Thy holy will and seek Thy greater glory in all things. Ah, would that I could proclaim throughout the whole world the mercy that Thou hast shown to me! Would that everyone might know I should be already damned, were it not for Mary! Would that I might offer worthy thanksgiving for so great a blessing! Mary is in me. Oh, what a treasure! Oh, what a consolation! And shall I not be entirely hers? Oh, what ingratitude! My dear Saviour, send me death rather than such a calamity, for I would rather die than live without belonging entirely to Mary.

With St. John the Evangelist at the foot of the cross, I have taken her a thousand times for my own and as many times have given myself to her; but if I have not yet done it as Thou, dear Jesus, dost wish, I now renew this offering as Thou desire me to renew it. And if Thou seest in my soul or my body anything that does not belong to this august princess, I pray Thee to take it and cast it far from me, for whatever in me does not belong to Mary is unworthy of Thee.

O Holy Spirit, grant me all these graces. Plant in my soul the Tree of true Life, which is Mary; cultivate it and tend it so that it may grow and blossom and bring forth the fruit of life in abundance. O Holy Spirit, give me great devotion to Mary, Thy faithful spouse; give me great confidence in her maternal heart and an abiding refuge in her mercy, so that by her Thou mayest truly form in me Jesus Christ, great and mighty, unto the fullness of His perfect age. Amen.

O, JESUS LIVING IN MARY

O Jesus living in Mary

Come and live in Thy servants,

In the spirit of Thy holiness,

In the fulness of Thy might,

In the truth of Thy virtues,

In the perfection of Thy ways,

In the communion of Thy mysteries,

Subdue every hostile power

In Thy spirit, for the glory of the Father. Amen.

TWENTY-SEVENTH DAY TRUE DEVOTION: NOS. 61, 62 CHRIST OUR LAST END

Jesus Christ our Saviour, true God and true Man, ought to be the last end of all our devotions, else they are false and delusive. Jesus Christ is the Alpha and the Omega, the beginning and the end, of all things. We labour not, as the Apostle says, except to render every man perfect in Jesus Christ; because it is in Him alone that the whole plenitude of the Divinity dwells together with all the other plenitudes of graces, virtues and perfections. It is in Him alone that we have been blessed with all spiritual benediction; and He is our only Master, Who has to teach us; our only Lord on Whom we ought to depend; our only Head to Whom we mint be united; our only Model to Whom we should conform ourselves; our only Physician Who can heal us; our only Shepherd Who can feed us; our only Way Who can lead us; our only Truth Whom we must believe; our only Life Who can animate us; and our only All in all things Who can satisfy us. There has been no other name given under heaven, except the name of Jesus, by which we can be saved. God has laid no other foundation of our salvation, our perfection or our glory, than Jesus Christ. Every building which is not built on that firm rock is founded upon the moving sand, and sooner or later infallibly will fall.

By Jesus Christ, with Jesus Christ, in Jesus Christ, we can do all things; we can render all honour and glory to the Father in the unity of the Holy Ghost; we can become perfect ourselves, and be to our neighbours a good odour of eternal life.

If, then, we establish solid devotion to our Blessed Lady, it is only to establish more perfectly devotion to Jesus Christ, and to provide an easy and secure means for finding Jesus Christ. Devotion to our Lady is necessary for us, as I have already shown, and will show still further hereafter, as a means of finding Jesus Christ perfectly, of loving Him tenderly, of serving Him faithfully.

Now turn to page 22, For Prayers, etc.

TWENTY-EIGHTH DAY

St. Matthew: Chapters: 26: 1; 26–29; 36–46

And it came to pass, when Jesus had ended all these words, he said to his disciples: You know that after two days shall be the Pasch, and the Son of man shall be delivered up to be crucified.

And whilst they were at supper, Jesus took bread and blessed, and broke; and gave to His Disciples, and said: Take ye, and eat, this is My Body. And taking the chalice, he gave thanks, and gave to them, saying: Drink ye all of this. For this is my blood of the new testament which shall be shed for many unto the remission of sins. And I say to you, I will not drink from henceforth of this fruit of the vine, until that day when I shall drink it with you new in the kingdom of my Father. . . .

Then Jesus came with them into a country place which is called Gethsemani. And he said to His disciples: Sit you here till I go yonder and pray. And taking with Him Peter, and the two sons of Zebedee, he began to grow sorrowful, to be sad. Then he said to them: My soul is sorrowful even unto death. Stay you here and watch with me. And going a little further, he fell upon his face, praying and saying: My Father, if it be possible, let this chalice pass from me. Nevertheless, not as I will, but as Thou wilt. And he came to his disciples and found them asleep. And He said to Peter: What? Could you not watch one hour with Me? Watch ye; and pray that ye enter not into temptation. The spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh weak. Again, the second time, he went and prayed, saying: My Father, if this chalice may not pass away, but I must drink it, Thy will be done. And he came again, and found them sleeping; for their eyes were heavy. And leaving them, he went again, and he prayed the third time, saying the self same word. Then He came to his disciples, and said to them: sleep ye now, and take your rest; behold the hour is at hand, and the Son of Man shall be betrayed into the hands of sinners. Rise, let us go; behold, he is at hand that will betray Me.

Now turn to page 22, For Prayers, etc.

TWENTY-NINTH DAY

Imitation: Book 1, Chapter 1

Of the imitation of Christ and indifference to earthly vanities

He who follows Me does not walk in darkness. (John 8:12). Christ reminds you with these words that you must imitate His life, if you wish to be truly enlightened and freed from all blindness of heart. Your main task, therefore, should be to study the life of Our Lord.

The teaching of Christ is greater than the advice of all the saints taken together. And if you study it with His frame of mind and heart, you will find in his teaching a hidden source of consolation and strength. Unfortunately, however, so many people care little or nothing about the Word of God, even though they have heard it time and time again, because they do not have the spirit of Christ. Yet, if you really want to understand the Words of Christ, you must try to pattern your whole life on His.

What good is it to be able to explain the doctrine of the Blessed Trinity if you displease the Blessed Trinity by your lack of humility? It is a good life that makes you pleasing to God, not high-sounding words and clever expressions. It is better to feel contrition for your sins than to know how to define it. What good is it to know the entire Bible by heart and to learn the sayings of all the philosophers if you live without grace and the Love of God?

Vanity of vanities, and all is vanity, unless you serve God and love Him with your whole heart. ( Eccles. 1:2) . The greatest wisdom of all is to seek the kingdom of heaven by despising the things of this world.

Now turn to page 22, For Prayers, etc.

THIRTIETH DAY

St. Matthew: Chapter 27, 36.44

And they sat down and watched him, and they put over his head his cause written: This is Jesus the King of the

Jews. Then were crucified with him two thieves: one on the right hand and one on the left. And they that passed by blasphemed him, wagging their heads, and saying: Vah, thou that destroyest the temple of God and in three days dost rebuild it: Save thy own self: if thou be the Son of God, come down from the cross. And in like manner, also the chief priests, with the scribes and the ancients mocking him, said: He saved others; himself he cannot save. If he be the King of Israel, let him now come down from the cross, and we will believe Him. He trusted in God; let him now deliver him, if he will have him. For he said: I am the Son of God. And the selfsame thing the thieves also, that were crucified with him.

Imitation: Book 2, Chapter 12

Of the Royal Road of the Cross

To many the saying, “Deny yourself, take up your cross and follow Me,” seems hard. How much harder, however, will the words on the Day of Judgment be: Depart from Me, you accused ones, into the everlasting fire. ( Matt. 25:41) . Those who follow the cross willingly now, will not fear the last judgment. When the Lord comes to judge, the Sign of the Cross will be in the heavens; then will those servants of the cross, who in their lifetime made themselves one with the Crucified, draw near with great trust to Christ, the judge.

Why are you afraid, then, to take up the cross when through it you can win an eternal kingdom? In the cross is salvation; in it is life; in it is protection from your enemies; in it is heavenly sweetness, in it is strength of mind; in it is joy of spirit; in it is the highest virtue; in the cross is perfect holiness.

Take up your cross and follow Jesus, and you will merit eternal life.

Now turn to page 22, For Prayers, etc.

THIRTY-FIRST DAY

Imitation: Book 4, Chapter 2

Of the Love God Shows You In This Sacrament

Trusting in Your great goodness and mercy, Lord, I come as one sick to the Physician, as one thirsty to the

Fountain of Life, as one in need to the King of heaven; I come as a servant to my Master, as a creature to my Creator, as a dejected soul to my loving Comforter.

But why should You come to me? Who am I that You should give Yourself to me? How can a sinner dare show his face in Your presence? And why do You condescend to visit a sinner: You know Your servant; You know he has no good in him, and, therefore, You have no reason to grant him this great grace. Thus I confess my unworthiness; and I acknowledge Your goodness. I praise Your mercy, and I give thanks for Your boundless love.

True Devotion: Nos. 243–254

Those who undertake this holy slavery should have a special devotion to the great mystery of the Incarnation of the Word (25th March). Indeed, the Incarnation, is the mystery proper in this practice, inasmuch as it is a devotion inspired by the Holy Ghost; first to honour and imitate the ineffable dependence which God the Son was pleased to have on Mary, for His Father’s glory-and our salvation-which dependence particularly appears in this mystery where Jesus is a captive and a slave in the bosom of the divine Mary, and depends on her for all things. Secondly, to thank God for the incomparable graces He has given Mary and particularly for having chosen her to be His most holy Mother, which choice was made in this mystery. These are the two principal ends of the slavery of Jesus and Mary. Because we are living in an age of intellectual pride and there are around us numerous, puffed-up scholars, conceited with critical spirits who have plenty to say against the best established and most solid practices of piety, it, is better for us not to give them any needless occasion of criticism, hence, it is better to say, we are slaves of Jesus in Mary and call ourselves slaves of Jesus Christ, rather than the slaves of Mary; taking the denomination of our devotion rather from its last end, which is Jesus Christ, than from the means to the end, which is Mary; we may use either term though. Another reason is that the principal mystery we celebrate and honour in this devotion is the mystery of the Incarnation wherein we can see Jesus only in Mary, and incarnate in her bosom. Hence it is more to the purpose to speak of the slavery of Jesus in Mary, and of Jesus residing and reigning in Mary according to that beautiful prayer, “O Jesus Living in Mary,” etc.

Those who adopt this slavery ought to have a great devotion to saying the Hail Mary. Few Christians, however enlightened, know the real value, merit, excellence and necessity of the Hail Mary. It was necessary for the Blessed Virgin to appear several times to great and enlightened saints to show them the merit of it.

Now turn to page 22, For Prayers, etc.

THIRTY-SECOND DAY

Irritation: Book 2, Chapter 7

Of Loving Jesus Above All Things

Blessed is the man who knows what it is to love Jesus, and to despise himself for the sake of Jesus. You must give up all other love for His, since He wishes to be loved alone above all.

Love of creatures is deceiving and constantly changing, but the love of Jesus is true and permanent. If you hold on to creatures, you will fall with them; if you hold on to Jesus, you will remain firmly planted forever.

Love Him, then keep Him as a friend. He will not leave you as others do; nor will He permit you to suffer eternal death. Separate yourself a little from everything, then. Cling, therefore, to Jesus in life and death; trust yourself to Him alone Who can help you when all others fail you.

The nature of Christ’s love is such that it will not admit a rival; He wants you for Himself alone. He desires to sit on the throne of your heart as King; which is His right. If you only knew how to free yourself of the love of creatures, how quickly would He come into your heart!

True Devotion: Nos. 257–260

There are also some very sanctifying interior practices for those whom the Holy Ghost calls to a a high perfection. These may be expressed in four words. To do all our actions: by Mary, with Mary, in Mary, and for Mary. So that we may do them all the more perfectly by Jesus, with Jesus, in Jesus and for Jesus.

By Mary: We must obey her in all things, in all things conduct ourselves by her spirit which is the Holy Spirit of God “those who are led by the Spirit of God, are the children of God.” Those who are led by the spirit of Mary, are the children of Mary, and among the clients of Mary, none is true and faithful but those who are led by her spirit. Jesus has rendered Himself, so completely the Master of Mary, that He has become her own spirit. A soul is happy indeed when it is all possessed and overruled by the spirit of Mary, a spirit meek and strong, zealous and prudent, humble and courageous, pure and fruitful.

We must do our actions with Mary. We must consider in every action how Mary has done it; she being in our place. For this end, we must meditate on the great virtues which she practiced during her life, first of all her lively faith, by which she believed, without hesitation, the angel’s word, and believed faithfully and constantly, up to the foot of the Cross. Her profound humility which made her hide herself, hold her peace, submit to everything, and put herself last of all.

Now turn to page 22, For Prayers, etc.

THIRTY-THIRD DAY

Imitation: Book 4, Chapter 11

Of The Necessity Of Communion

O sweetest, Lord Jesus, how happy is the devout man who feasts at Your banquet, at which there is no other food but Yourself, his only Lover, most desired of all that his heart can desire!

How deeply I long to pour out my heartfelt tears in Your presence, and like the pious Magdalen, to wash Your feet with them. But where is such devotion in me, such copious shedding of holy tears? Surely, in Your sight, and before Your holy angels, my whole heart ought to be inflamed and weep for joy; for I have You with me truly present in this Sacrament, though You are under another form. My eyes could not bear to see You in Your own divine brightness, nor could the whole world stand in sight of the splendour of Your majesty. In concealing Yourself in this Sacrament You have regard for my weakness.

True Devotion: Nos. 261–265

We must do our actions in Mary. Our Blessed Lady is the true terrestrial paradise of the New Adam, and the ancient paradise was but a figure of her. In this earthly paradise we have riches, beauties, rarities and inexplicable sweetness, which Jesus Christ, the New Adam has left here; it was in this paradise that He took His complacence for nine months, worked His wonders and displayed His riches with the magnificence of a God. It is in this earthly paradise that there is the true tree of life, which has born Jesus Christ, the Fruit of Life, and the tree of knowledge of good and evil, which has given light unto the world. There are, in this divine place, trees planted by the hand of God, and watered by His Divine Unction, which have borne and daily bear fruit of divine taste. It is only the Holy Ghost, Who can make us know the hidden truth of these figures of material things. The Holy Ghost, by the mouth of the Father, also styles the Blessed Virgin, the Eastern Gate, by which the High-Priest, Jesus Christ, enters the world, and leaves it. By it, He came the first time, He will come the second, by it.

Finally, we must do all our actions for Mary, we must take her for our proximate end, our mysterious means, and our way to go to Jesus Christ. Supported by her protection we must undertake and achieve great things for Christ. We must defend her privileges, when they are disputed. We must stand up for her glory when it is attacked; we must draw all the world, if we can, to her service, and to this true and solid devotion. We must pretend to no recompense for our little service, except the honour of belonging to so sweet a Queen, and the happiness of being united through her to Jesus, her Son, by an indissoluble tie, in time and in eternity.

Now turn to page 22, For Prayers, etc.

HOW TO MAKE YOUR CONSECRATION

At the end of three weeks, we should go to confession and Holy Communion with the intention of giving ourselves to Jesus Christ in the quality of slaves of love, by the hands of Mary. After Communion, we should recite the consecration prayer-we ought to write it, or have it written, and sign it the same day the consecration is made. It would be well that on this day, we should pay some tribute to Jesus Christ and our Blessed Lady, either as a penance for our past unfaithfulness to the vows of Baptism, or as a testimony of dependence on the dominion of Jesus and Mary. This tribute should be one in accordance with your fervor, such as a fast, a mortification or an alms, or a candle. If but a pin is given in homage, and given with a good heart, it will be enough for Jesus, Who loves only the good will.

Once a year at least, and on the same day, we should renew this consecration, observing the same practices during the three weeks.

Here is your formula of

Consecration to Jesus Christ, the Incarnate Wisdom through the Blessed Virgin Mary O Eternal and Incarnate Wisdom! O sweetest and most adorable Jesus! True God and true man, only Son of the Eternal Father, and of Mary, always Virgin! I adore Thee profoundly in the bosom and splendours of Thy Father during eternity; and I adore Thee also in the virginal bosom of Mary, Thy most worthy Mother, in the time of Thine Incarnation.

I give Thee thanks for that Thou hast annihilated Thyself, taking the form of a slave in order to rescue me from the cruel slavery of the devil. I praise and glorify Thee for that Thou hast been pleased to submit Thyself to Mary, Thy holy Mother, in all things, in order to make me Thy faithful slave through her. But alas! Ungrateful and faithless as I have been, I have not kept the promises which I made so solemnly to Thee in my Baptism; I have not fulfilled my obligations; I do not deserve to be called Thy child, nor yet Thy slave; and as there is nothing in me which does not merit Thine anger and Thy repulse, I dare not come by myself before Thy most holy and august majesty. It is on this account that I have recourse to the intercession of Thy most holy Mother, whom Thou hast given me for a mediatrix with Thee. It is through her that I hope to obtain of Thee contrition, the pardon of my sins, and the acquisition and preservation of wisdom.

Hail, then, O Immaculate Mary, living tabernacle of the Divinity, where the Eternal Wisdom willed to be hidden and to be adored by angels and by men! Hail, O Queen of Heaven and earth, to whose empire everything is subject which is under God. Hail, O sure refuge of sinners, whose mercy fails no one. Hear the desires which I have of the Divine Wisdom; and for that end receive the vows and offerings which in my lowliness I present to thee. I, N., a faithless sinner, renew and ratify today in thy hands the vows of my Baptism; I renounce forever Satan, his pomps and works; and I give myself entirely to Jesus Christ, the Incarnate Wisdom, to carry my cross after him all the days of my life, and to be more faithful to Him than I have ever been before.

In the presence of all the heavenly court I choose thee this day for my Mother and mistress. I deliver and consecrate to thee, as thy slave, my body and soul, my goods, both interior and exterior, and even the value of all my good actions, past, present and future; Leaving to thee the entire and full right of disposing of me, and all that belongs to me, without exception, according to thy good pleasure, for the greater glory of God in time and in eternity.

Receive, O benignant Virgin, this little offering of my slavery, in honour of, and in union with, that subjection which the Eternal Wisdom deigned to have to thy maternity, in homage to the power which both of you have over this poor sinner, and in thanksgiving for the privileges with which the Holy Trinity has favoured thee. I declare that I wish henceforth, as thy true slave, to seek thy honour and to obey thee in all things.

O admirable Mother, present me to thy dear Son as His eternal slave, so that as He has redeemed me by thee, by thee He may receive me! O Mother of mercy, grant me the grace to obtain the true Wisdom of God; and for that end receive me among those whom thou lovest and teachest, whom thou leadest, nourishest and protectest as thy children and thy slaves.

O faithful Virgin, make me in all things so perfect a disciple, imitator and slave of the Incarnate Wisdom, Jesus Christ thy Son, that I may attain, by thine intercession and by thine example, to the fulness of His age on earth and of His glory in Heaven. Amen.

(A plenary indulgence, under the usual conditions, on the feast of the Immaculate Conception and April 28.-Preces et Pia Opera, 75.)

IMPRIMI POTEST:

Frank Setzer, S. M. M.

Provincial Superior

NIHIL OBSTAT:

William F. Hughes, S. T. L. Censor Librorum

IMPRIMATUR:

Walter Philip Kellenberg, D. D. Bishop of Rockville Centre March 19, 1958

********

Primer Catechism

INDEX

PRAYERS

In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.

THE LORD’S PRAYER

Our Father, Who art In heaven, hallowed be Thy name; Thy kingdom come; Thy will be done on earth, as It is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread; and forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive them who trespass against us; and lead us not into temptation but deliver us from evil. Amen.

THE HAIL MARY

Hall Mary! full of grace, the Lord is with thee; blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus. Holy Mary! Mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death. Amen.

TO THE BLESSED TRINITY

Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Ghost. As it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be, world without end. Amen.

THE MORNING OFFERING

Jesus, through the Most Pure Heart of Mary, I offer Thee the prayers, works, joys and sufferings of this day, for all the Intentions of Thy Divine Heart.

GRACE BEFORE MEALS

Bless us, O Lord, and these Thy gifts which of Thy bounty we are about to receive, through Christ Our Lord.

GRACE AFTER MEALS

We give Thee thanks, O Almighty God, for all Thy benefits, who livest and reignest, world without end. Amen.

ACT OF CONTRITION

O my God, I am very sorry that I have sinned against Thee, because Thou art so good, and I will not sin again.

PRAYER TO THE GUARDIAN ANGEL

O Angel of God, my guardian dear,

To whom God’s love commits me here;

Ever this day be at my side

To light and guard, to rule and guide.

Amen.

THE CONFITEOR

I confess to Almighty God, to bless Mary ever Virgin, to blessed Michael the Archangel, to blessed John the Baptist, to the holy Apostles Peter and Paul, and to all the Saints, that I have sinned exceedingly in thought, word and deed, through my fault, through my fault, through my most grievous fault. Therefore, I beseech the blessed Mary ever Virgin, blessed Michael the Archangel, blessed John the Baptist, to holy Apostles Peter and Paul, and all the Saints, to pray to the Lord our God for me.

May the Almighty God have mercy on me, forgive me my sins and bring me to life everlasting. Amen.

THE APOSTLES’ CREED

1 believe in God the Father Almighty, Creator of heaven and earth, and In Jesus Christ His only Son, Our Lord, Who was conceived of the Holy Ghost, born of the Virgin Mary, suffered under Pontius Pilate, was crucified, dead, and buried; He descended into Hell; the third day He arose again from the dead. He ascended into heaven, sitteth at the right hand of God the Father Almighty; from thence He shall come to judge the living and the dead. I believe in the Holy Ghost, the Holy Catholic Church, the communion of saints, the forgiveness of sins, the resurrection of the body, and life everlasting. Amen.

ACT OF FAITH

O my God, I firmly believe all the truths that the Holy Catholic Church believes and teaches; I believe these truths, O Lord, because Thou the Infallible Truth, hast revealed them to her; in this Faith I am resolved to live and die. Amen.

ACT OF HOPE

O my God, relying on Thy promises, I hope that through the infinite merits of Jesus Christ, Thou wilt grant me pardon of my sins, and the graces necessary to serve Thee in this life, and to obtain eternal happiness in the next. Amen.

ACT OF CHARITY

O my God, I love Thee with my whole heart and above all things, because Thou art infinitely good and perfect; and I love my neighbour as myself for love of Thee. Grant that I may love Thee more and more in this life and in the next for all eternity

Amen.

HAIL HOLY QUEEN

Hail holy Queen, Mother of Mercy, hail our life, our sweetness, and our hope! to thee do we cry, poor banished children of Eve: to thee do we send up our sighs, mourning and weeping in this valley of tears. Turn, then, most gracious advocate, thine eyes of mercy towards us; and after this our exile show unto us the blessed fruit of thy womb Jesus. O clement, O loving. O sweet Virgin Mary.

THE ANGELUS

V. The Angel of the Lord declared unto Mary.

R. And she conceived of the Holy Ghost. Hail, Mary, etc., V. Behold the handmaid of the Lord.

R. Be it done unto me according to Thy word. Hail, Mary, etc. V. And the Word was made flesh.

R. And dwelt among us. Hail Mary, etc.

Pray for us, O Holy Mother of God.

That we may be made worthy of the promises of Christ.

Let Us Pray

Pour forth, we beseech Thee, O Lord, Thy grace into our hearts, that we to whom the Incarnation of Christ, Thy Son, was made known by the message of an angel, may by His passion and cross be brought to the glory of His resurrection, through the same Christ our Lord. Amen.

May the divine assistance always remain with us. Amen.

And may the souls of the faithful departed through the mercy of God, rest in peace. Amen.

ASPIRATIONS

O Sacred Heart of Jesus, I Implore that I may love Thee daily more and more.

Sweet Jesus, bless our parents, our brothers and sisters, and our companions. Bless our Holy Father the Pope, and all his Bishops and priests, and help them in their work for the salvation of souls. Bless our country, and help our people to serve Thee in peace and happiness.

Heart of Jesus, once in agony, pity the dying.

St. Patrick, pray for us.

Our Lady, Help of Christians, pray for us.

St. Francis Xavier, pray for us.

Jesus, Mary and Joseph, I give you my heart and my soul.

Jesus, Mary and Joseph, assist me in my last agony.

Jesus, Mary and Joseph, may I breathe forth my soul in peace with you. Amen.

O Jesus, have pity on the poor souls in Purgatory, and give them eternal rest. Amen.

MORNING PRAYERS

The Sign of the Cross. The Morning Offering.The Lord’s Prayer, The Hail Mary. The Apostles’ Creed. The Angelus. Prayer to the Guardian Angel.

EVENING PRAYERS

The Sign of the Cross. The Rosary. Three Hail Marys. The Confiteor. The Act of Contrition. Hail! Holy Queen. Prayer to the Guardian Angel. Aspirations.

[NOTE.-The Family Rosary said by all at home every night will be a source of great blessings. When saying it pray especially that Our Lady may help to keep the Faith strong in your family and in Australia].

CHAPTER 1.-GOD AND CREATION 1. Q. WHO MADE THE WORLD?

A. God made the world.

2. Q. Who made Heaven and earth and all things? A. God made Heaven and earth and all things.

3. Q. From what did God make all things? A. God made all things from nothing.

4. Q. Where is God?

A. God is in Heaven, on earth and everywhere.

5. Q. Who lives in Heaven?

A. God and the Angels and Saints live in Heaven.

6. Q. If God be everywhere, why do we not see Him?

A. We do not see God because He is a Spirit, having no body, and, therefore, cannot be seen by us in this life.

7. Q. What can God do? A. God can do all things.

8. Q. Does God see us? A. God does see us.

9. Q. Does God know all that we say and do and think? A. God does know all that we say and do and think.

CHAPTER 2.-MAN. 1. Q. WHO MADE YOU?

A. God made me, giving me a body and a soul.

2. Q. What part of you Is most like to God? A. My soul is most like to God.

3. Q. What is the soul?

A. The soul is a spirit that will never die.

4. Q. How is your soul like to God?

A. My soul is like to God because it is a spirit, because it will never die, and because it can know and love God.

5. Q. Why did God make you?

A. God made me to know Him, love Him, and serve Him here on earth, and to be happy with Him for ever in Heaven.

CHAPTER 3.-THE BLESSED TRINITY AND INCARNATION 1. Q. IS THERE ONLY ONE GOD?

A. There is only one God.

2. Q. How many Persons are there in God?

A. In God there are three Divine Persons, really distinct and equal in all things.

3. Q. Name the three Divine Persons.

A. The first Person is God the Father; the second Person is God the Son; the third Person is God the Holy Ghost.

4. Q. Are the three Divine Persons three Gods? A. The three Divine Persons are only one God.

5. Q. What do you call these three Persons in one God? A. The three Persons are called the Blessed Trinity.

6. Q. Did one of the Divine Persons become Man? A. Yes; God the Son, the second Divine Person, became Man.

7. Q. Why did God the Son become Man? A. God the Son became Man to redeem us.

8. Q. How did we need to be redeemed?

A. We needed to be redeemed because our first parents, Adam and Eve, had sinned against God.

CHAPTER 4-HEAVEN AND THE NEXT WORLD

1. Q. Where do good people go when they die?

A. Good people go to Heaven when they die.

2. Q. Do all good people go to Heaven immediately after their death? A. No; some people suffer for a time in Purgatory,

3. Q. How long do people live in Heaven? A. People live forever in Heaven.

4. Q. Is everybody in Heaven happy? A. Yes; everybody in Heaven is happy.

5. Q. Why do you say that people are happy in Heaven?

A. Because they enjoy the company of God and have every good thing they can wish for.

6. Q. Are there Angels in Heaven? A. There are Angels in Heaven.

7. Q. Who are the Angels?

A. The Angels are spirits like our souls, but they have no bodies.

8. Q. Who made the Angels? A. God made the Angels.

9. Q. Are there Angels on this earth?

A. Yes; there are Angels to watch over us and help us to serve God.

10. Q. Has everyone an Angel to help him to serve God? A. Yes: everyone has a Guardian Angel to help him to serve God.

11. Q. Did some Angels fail to reach Heaven? A. Yes; some Angels failed to reach Heaven.

12. Q. Why did some Angels fail to reach Heaven?

A. Some of the Angels failed to reach Heaven because they rebelled against God.

13. Q. Did God punish in any other way the Angels who rebelled? A. Yes; God condemned the rebellious Angels to the everlasting fire of Hell.

14. Q. What kind of place is Hell?

A. Hell is a place where bad angels and wicked men, driven from the sight of God, are punished for all eternity.

15. Q. Why did God make Hell?

A. God made Hell to punish the devils or bad Angels, and all who die in mortal sin.

CHAPTER 5.-SIN

1. Q. What is sin?

A. Sin is any wilful thought, word, deed, or omission against the Law of God.

2. Q. Is it a sin to think bad thoughts? A. It is a sin to think bad thoughts.

3. Q. Is it a sin to say bad words? A. It Is a sin to say bad words.

4. Q. Is it a sin to do bad things? A. It is a sin to do bad things.

5. Q. Are all sins equally bad?

A. No, there are bigger sins and smaller sins.

6. Q. What are bigger sins called? A. Bigger sins are called Mortal Sins.

7. Q. What are smaller sins called? A. Smaller sins are called Venial Sins.

8. Q. What does a Mortal Sin do to us?

A. A Mortal Sin makes us enemies of God and robs us of God’s love.

9. Q. What does a Venial Sin do to us? A. A Venial Sin lessens our love for God.

CHAPTER 6-OUR FIRST PARENTS. ORIGINAL SIN 1. Q. WHO WAS THE FIRST MAN?

A. Adam was the first man,

2. Q. Who was the first woman? A. Eve was the first woman.

3. Q. Were Adam and Eve our first parents? A. Yes, Adam and Eve were our first parents.

4. Q. Did our first parents fall into sin? A. Yes; our first parents fell into sin.

5. Q. What sin did our first parents fall into?

A. Our first parents ate of the fruit that God told them not to eat.

6. Q. Who tempted our first parents to eat the forbidden fruit?

A. The Devil, one of the fallen angels, tempted our first parents to eat the forbidden fruit.

7. Q. Why did God command our first parent not to eat the forbidden fruit?

A. God commanded our first parents not to eat the forbidden fruit to test their obedience to Him, their Lord and Master.

8. Q. What did our first parents lose by their sin? A. They lost God’s love and Heaven by their sin.

9. Q. Do that sin and that loss come down to us?

A. Yes; that sin and that loss do come down to each one of us.

10. Q. Are we born with sin on our soul?

A. We are born with the sin of our first parents on our soul.

11. Q. What do you call the sin of our first parents? A. The sin of our first parents is called Original Sin

12. Q. Was anyone conceived and born free from Original Sin?

A. Yes; the Blessed Virgin Mary, and she alone was conceived and born free from Original Sin.

13. Q. What is this favour to the Blessed Virgin called?

A. This favour to the Blessed Virgin is called her Immaculate Conception,

CHAPTER 7.-OUR LORD AND REDEEMER 1. Q. WHO CAME TO FREE US FROM SIN?

A. God the Son became Man to free us from sin.

2. Q. What happened on the day of the Annunciation?

A. On the day of the Annunciation God the Son took a body and soul like ours and became Man.

3. Q. Who is the Mother of God the Son made Man? A. The Blessed Virgin Mary is the Mother of God made Man.

4. Q. What name was given to God the Son when He became Man? A. God the Son, when He became Man, was called Jesus Christ.

5. Q. What happened on Christmas Day?

A. On Christmas Day, Jesus Christ was born of the blessed Virgin Mary in a stable at Bethlehem.

6. Q. How long did Christ live on earth?

A. Christ lived on earth thirty-three years, In poverty and suffering.

7. Q. What happened on Good Friday?

A. On Good Friday, Jesus Christ died, nailed to a Cross.

8. Q. Why did Jesus Christ die?

A. Jesus Christ died for our sins, and to open Heaven for us.

9. Q. Why did He do this? A. Because He loves us so much.

10. Q. Why do we call that day Good on which Jesus Christ died?

A. We call that day Good on which Jesus Christ died because His death has shown how much He loves us, and has brought us so many blessings.

CHAPTER 8-THE RESURRECTION AND ASCENSION 1. Q. WHAT DOES THE RESURRECTION MEAN?

A. The Resurrection means that Christ rose from death and came back to life.

2. Q. Did Christ come back to life by His own power? A. Yes; Christ came back to life by His own power.

3. Q. What happened on Easter Sunday?

A. On Easter Sunday, the third day after His Death, Jesus Christ arose (glorious and immortal) from the dead.

4. Q. What do the death and resurrection of Christ prove?

A. The death of Jesus Christ proves that He is Man, and His resurrection proves that He is God.

5. Q. What happened on Ascension Thursday?

A. On Ascension Thursday, forty days after Easter, Jesus Christ ascended with His Body and Soul into Heaven.

CHAPTER 9.-THE HOLY GHOST AND THE CHURCH

1. Q. What happened on Pentecost Sunday?

A. On Pentecost Sunday the Holy Ghost came down upon the Apostles In the form of tongues of fire.

2. Q. Why did Jesus Christ send the Holy Ghost?

A. Jesus Christ sent the Holy Ghost to strengthen and enlighten His Apostles, and to guard and guide His Church through all ages.

3. Q. Why did Christ establish the Church?

A. Christ established the Church to give us His teaching, and to guide and to help us on the way to Heaven.

4. Q. What Church did Christ establish?

A. Christ established the Catholic Church.

5. Q. Who established the other religious bodies? A. Men established the other religious bodies.

6. Q. Who is the Head of the Catholic Church? A. Christ is the Head of the Catholic Church.

7. Q. Who takes Christ’s place on earth as the Visible Head of the Church? A. The Pope takes Christ’s place on earth as the visible Head of the Church.

8. Q. Who is the Pope?

A. The Pope is Christ’s Vicar on earth and the chief Teacher and Ruler of His Church, and the successor of St. Peter.

9. Q. Who was St. Peter? A. St. Peter was the first Pope.

10. Q. Who appointed St. Peter as Pope and Head of the Church? A. Christ, Our Lord, appointed St. Peter as Pope and Head of the Church.

11. Q. Can the Catholic Church teach anything false? A. The Catholic Church cannot teach anything false.

12. Q. Why cannot the Catholic Church teach anything false?

A. The Catholic Church cannot teach anything false because the Holy Ghost guides the Church in her teaching.

13. Q. How long will the Catholic Church last? A. The Catholic Church will last till the end of the world.

14. Q. Is there more than one True Church? A. No. The Catholic Church is the only True Church.

15. Q. Who are the Members of the Church?

A. The Members of the Church are our Holy Father the Pope, and, with him, all the Bishops, priests and people who are baptized and who acknowledge the Pope to be the Vicar of Christ on earth and the visible Head of the Church.

CHAPTER 10.-THE SACRAMENTS: BAPTISM 1. Q. HOW CAN WE GO TO HEAVEN?

A. We can go to Heaven by leading a good life with the help of God’s Grace.

2. Q. What does God’s Grace do for us?

A. God’s Grace makes us holy and helps us to do good.

3. Q. How do we get God’s Grace?

A. We get God’s Grace through Prayer and the Sacraments.

4. Q. What is a Sacrament?

A. A Sacrament is an external sign or action chosen by Christ to give grace.

5. Q. How many Sacraments are there? A. There are seven Sacraments: Baptism, Confirmation, Eucharist, Penance, Extreme Unction, Holy Order and Matrimony.

6. Q. Who gave us the Sacraments? A. Christ gave us the Sacraments.

7. Q. What is the first Sacrament? A. Baptism is the first Sacrament,

8. Q. What does Baptism do for us?

A. Baptism takes away Original Sin and makes us children of God, and gives us a right to Heaven.

9. Q. Can we go to Heaven without Baptism? A. We cannot go to Heaven without Baptism.

10. Q. How is Baptism given?

A. Baptism is given by pouring water on the head of the person to be baptised, saying while pouring the water, I baptize thee in the name of the Father. and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost. (Matt. xxviii.).

11. Q. Are there any other kinds of Baptism besides that of water? A. Yes; there is also Baptism of Desire and Baptism of Blood or martyrdom.

CHAPTER 11.-PENANCE AND CONFESSION 1. Q. WHAT DOES THE SACRAMENT OF PENANCE DO FOR US?

A. The Sacrament of Penance takes away the Sins we commit after Baptism.

2. Q. Who takes away our sins in the Sacrament of Penance ? A. The Priest by the power of God, takes away our sins.

3. Q. When did Christ give Priests the power to take away our sins?

A. Christ gave Priests the power to take away our sins when He said “Receive ye the Holy Ghost; Whose sins you shall forgive they are forgiven them; and whose sins you shall retain they are retained.” (John xx, 22,23).

4. Q. What must we do at Confession In order to have our sins taken away? A. We must tell our sins to the Priest in Confession.

5. Q. What else is necessary by Confession ? A. We must be sorry for our sins.

6. Q. Why should we be sorry for our sins?

A. We should be sorry for our sins because they offend God, Who is so good and Who loves us so much.

7. Q. What should we think of to help us to be sorry?

A. We should think of how good God is, and how He died for us on the Cross.

8. Q. Can we be forgiven if we are not sorry for our sins? A. We cannot be forgiven if we are not sorry for our sins.

9. Q. What promise must we make in Confession? A. We must sincerely promise to try to avoid sin for the future.

10. Q. Would an Act of Perfect Contrition obtain forgiveness of our sins? A. Yes. But we are also bound to go to Confession if we can.

11. Q. Say a short Act of Perfect Contrition.

A. O my God, I am very sorry that I have sinned against Thee, because Thou art so good, and I will not sin again.

CHAPTER 12.-THE BLESSED EUCHARIST AND THE MASS

1. Q. Whom do we receive when we go to Holy Communion? A. We receive Our Lord Jesus Christ.

2. Q. How do we know that we really receive Our Lord Jesus Christ?

A. Because He tells us so. At the Last Supper, the night before He was crucified, He changed bread and wine into His Own Body and Blood, and He told His apostles and their successors to do the same thing in commemoration of Him.

3. Q. What do we call this Sacrament of Our Lord? A. This Sacrament is called the Blessed Eucharist.

4. Q. Who changes the bread and wine into Our Lord’s Body and Blood? A. The Priest changes the bread and wine into Our Lord’s Body and Blood.

5. Q. Who gave Priests this power?

A. Our Lord Himself gave Priests the power to change the bread and wine into His Body and Blood.

6. Q. When did He give Priests this great power?

A. Christ gave this power when He said to His Apostles at the Last Supper “Do this for a commemoration of Me. (Luke xxii, 19.)

7. Q. How often should we go to Holy Communion? A. We should go to Holy Communion as often as we can.

8. Q. How should we prepare ourselves for Holy Communion?

A. We should be free from mortal sin and prepare our souls to receive Our Lord Jesus Christ.

9. Q. How do we prepare our souls?

A. We may prepare our souls by making Acts of Faith, Humility, Sorrow, Adoration, Love and Desire. (See page

28).

10. Q. May we take solid food immediately before receiving Holy Communion? A. No. We cannot take any solid food for three hours before receiving Holy Communion.

10a. Q. May we drink before receiving Holy Communion? A. Yes. Water may be taken always.

Alcoholic drink cannot be taken for one hour before receiving Holy Communion. Non-Alcoholic drink cannot be taken for one hour before receiving Holy Communion.

11. Q. What should we do after receiving Holy Communion?

A. After receiving Holy Communion we should stay awhile and speak to Our Lord in Acts of Faith, Adoration,

Humility, Love, Thanksgiving, Offering and Petition.

12. Q. When does the Priest change the bread and wine into Our Lord’s Body and Blood?

A. The Priest changes the bread and wine into Our Lord’s Body and Blood when he offers the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass.

13. Q. Is the Mass the True Sacrifice of the New Law?

A. Yes; the Mass is the true Sacrifice of the New Law, for in it Our Lord Jesus Christ, through the priest, offers

Himself to God the Father for the living and the dead.

14. Q. What are the principal parts of the Mass?

A. The principal parts of the Mass are the Offertory, the Consecration, and the Communion.

15. Q. How often must we go to Mass?

A. We must go to Mass every Sunday and Holyday.

16. Q. Is it a sin to miss Mass on Sundays and Holydays?

A. It is a great sin to miss Mass on Sundays and Holydays, if we stay away through our own fault.

17. Q. Why do we go to Mass?

A. We go to Mass to offer sacrifice to God.

18. Q. Why do we offer sacrifice?

A. We offer sacrifice to adore God; to thank Him for His goodness; to seek pardon for sin; and to ask Him to help us both in soul and body.

19. Q. May we pray for others at Mass?

A. Yes. We may pray for all who are in need, living and dead.

20. Q. Should we go to Mass on week days? A. It is good to go to Mass every day if we can.

THE COMMANDMENTS

Commandments of God:

I am the Lord thy God:

1. Thou shalt not have strange gods before Me.

2. Thou shalt not take the name of the Lord Thy God in vain.

3. Remember that thou keep holy the Sabbath day.

4. Honour thy father and thy mother.

5. Thou shalt not kill.

8. Thou shalt not commit adultery.

7. Thou shalt not steal.

8. Thou shalt not bear false witness against thy neighbour.

9. Thou shalt not covet thy neighbour’s wife.

10.Thou shalt not covet thy neighbour’s goods.

THE PRINCIPAL COMMANDMENTS OF THE CHURCH

1. To hear Mass on Sundays and Holy Days of Obligation.

2. To fast and abstain on the days commanded.

3. To confess our sins at least once a year.

4. To receive worthily the Blessed Eucharist each year at Easter, or within the appointed time.

5. To contribute to the support of our pastors, and to the upkeep of Catholic schools and charitable institution.

6. To send Catholic children to Catholic schools.

7. To observe the laws of the Church regarding the celebration of the Sacrament of Matrimony.

PREPARATION FOR CONFESSION AND

HOLY COMMUNION

BEFORE CONFESSION

1. Ask God to help you make a good Confession.

2. Find out your sins and the number of times you have committed them.

3. Be sorry for your sins.

4. Promise God not to sin again.

1. Ask God to help you: O my God., help me to remember all my sins. Help me to be truly sorry for them, and to make up my mind not to sin again . . .

Mary, my Mother, obtain for me the grace to make a good Confession.

I confess to Almighty God, etc. . . . to . . through my most grevious fault.

2. Find out your sins: (But, first, How long is it since I was at Confession last? At my last Confessions did I confess all the sins I should have?)

Have I said my prayers? Did I try to think of what I was saying when I was saying my prayers? Have I used bad words? Have I missed Mass on Sundays or Holy days through my own fault? Have I been late for Mass? Have I disobeyed my parents or those in charge of me? Have I been angry or sulky? Have I done any bad, immodest thing? Have I stolen anything, or spent money that was not my own? Have I told lies? Have I been thinking about bad things after I knew they were bad? Have I eaten meat on Fridays or Ash Wednesday? How many times have I committed these sins? Have I done anything else I ought to confess? Did I keep back any sin in Confession on purpose? Is there any sin I forgot to tell at my other Confession?

(Say your sins over to yourself a few times so that you will be able to tell them to the Priest.)

You are bound to tell all your mortal sins, and the number of times you committed them. If you have no sin to confess, tell some sin you have told In other Confessions.)

[NOTE FOR TEACHERS -In helping children in their preparation for Confession, the Teacher will endeavour to explain to the children the difference between mortal and venial sins, and also to impress upon the children the obligation of confessing all mortal sins and the number of times they were committed. The Teacher will also explain to the children that, though it is not obligatory, it is very desirable to confess even their venial sins and the number of times they were committed].

3. Tell God you are sorry: Think how God punishes sinners in Hell, and say: O my God, I am sorry for my sins, because they deserve Your great punishments.

Think of the joys of Heaven which we lose by sin. -O my God, I am sorry for my sins, because they would keep me from seeing You in Heaven.

Think of what Our Lord has suffered for your sins.-O my God, I am sorry for my sins, because they have crucified my loving Saviour, Jesus Christ.

Think of the goodness of God to you.-O my God, I am very sorry that I have sinned against You, because You have been so good to me.

Think of how good and great and holy God is, and how sin insults and pains Him.-O my God, I am heartily sorry for having offended You, because You are so very good. Even though there were no punishment for sin, I would be sorry, because my sins displease You, who are so good, and because I love You I will not sin again.

4. Promise God not to sin again.-O my God I firmly resolve by Your holy grace never more to offend You.

AT CONFESSION

1. Make the sign of the Cross end say: Bless me, Father, for I have sinned.

2. Tell how long it is since your last good Confession, and whether you performed your last penance.

3. Tell your sins to the Priest.

4. When you have told all your sins, say: This is all I can remember, Father, and I am very sorry for all my sins.

5. Listen to what the Priest has to say to you, and then make the Act of Contrition.

AFTER CONFESSION

1. Thank God and ask His help.-O my God, I thank You for forgiving me my sins. Give me Your help, that I may never sin again. Mary, my Mother, help me to keep my promise.

2. Perform the penance given to you by the Priest.

HOLY COMMUNION

Say these prayers slowly, a few words at a time. It is well to stop after every few words, that they may sink into the heart. Each prayer may be said several times.

BEFORE HOLY COMMUNION

PRAYER FOR HELP.-O my God, help me to make a good Communion. Mary, my dearest Mother, pray to Jesus for me. My dear Angel Guardian, lead me to the altar of God.

ACT OF FAITH.-My dear Jesus, because You have said: “This is My Body, this is My Blood,” I believe that I shall receive Your Sacred Body to eat and Your Precious Blood to drink. Dear Jesus, I believe this with all my heart.

ACT OF HUMILITY. -My God, I confess that I am a poor sinner; on account of my sins I am not worthy to receive the Body and Blood of Jesus. Lord, I am not worthy that You should enter under my roof; say but the word, and my soul shall be healed.

ACT OF SORROW.-O my God, I am very sorry that I have sinned against You, because You are so good Yourself, and for love of You I will not sin again.

ACT OF ADORATION-O Jesus, Great God, present on the altar, I bow down before You, 1 adore You.

ACT OF LOVE AND DESIRE.-Sweet Jesus, I love You. I desire with all my heart to receive You. Most sweet Jesus, come into my poor soul and give me Your Flesh to eat and Your Blood to drink. Give me Your whole Self. Body. Blood, Soul and Divinity, that I may live for ever with You.

IN RECEIVING HOLY COMMUNION

1. In going to the altar-rails, and returning to your place, keep your hands joined, your eyes cast down, and your thoughts on Jesus Christ.

2. At the altar-rails, take the Communion plate and hold it before you, under your chin.

3. Hold your head straight up, keep your eyes cast down, your mouth well open, and your tongue out, resting on the under lip. Then, with great reverence, receive the Sacred Host, saying in your heart, with all the faith of St. Thomas, “My Lord and my God.”

AFTER HOLY COMMUNION

When you return to your place tell Our Lord in your own words how much you love Him for coming to you. Thank Him for coming, and tell Him how sorry you are for all the sins committed against Him, your own especially. Ask Him for your wants and ask Him to help your parents and family, and all who are in need. Pray for the Pope, the Bishops and Priests, your Teachers, and the poor suffering souls in Purgatory. Then you may take up your book and read slowly the following prayers:

ACT OF FAITH.-O Jesus, I believe that I have received Your Flesh to eat and Your Blood to drink, because You have said it, and Your word is true.

ACT OF ADORATION.-O Jesus, my God, my Creator, I adore You, because from Your hands I came, and with You I am to be happy for ever.

ACT OF HUMILITY.-O Jesus, I am but dust and ashes, and yet You have come to me, and my poor heart may speak to You.

ACT OF LOVE.-Sweet Jesus, I love You. I love You with my whole heart. You know that I love You, and wish to love You daily more and more.

ACT OF THANKSGIVING.-My good Jesus, I thank You with all my heart. How good, how kind You are to me, sweet Jesus! Blessed be Jesus in the Most Holy Sacrament of the Altar.

ACT OF OFFERING. -O Jesus, receive my poor offering. Jesus, You have given Yourself to me, and now let me give myself to You. I give You my body, that It may be chaste and pure. I give You my soul, that it may be free from sin. I give You my heart, that it may always love You. I give You every breath that I shall breathe, and especially my last. I give You myself in Life and in death, that I may be Yours for ever and ever.

ACT OF PETITION.-O Jesus, wash away my sins with Your Precious Blood. O Jesus, the struggle against temptation is not yet finished. My Jesus, when temptation comes, make me strong against It. Jesus, mercy! Mary, help!

O Jesus, grant that I may lead a good life, die a happy death, and receive You In my last illness. O Jesus, have mercy on Your Holy Church; take care of It. O Jesus, have pity on poor sinners, and save them from hell. O Jesus, bless my father, my mother, my brothers and sisters, and all I ought to pray for, as Your Heart knows how to bless them. O Jesus, have pity on the poor souls In Purgatory, and give them eternal rest. Sweet Jesus, 1 am going away for a time, but I trust not without You. You are with me by Your grace. I will never leave You by mortal sin. I do not fear to do so, though I am so weak, because I have such a hope in You. Give me grace to keep good till I die. Amen.

PRAYERS

BEFORE HOLY COMMUNION

AN ACT OF FAITH.-O good Jesus, I firmly believe all that You have said to me through Your Church, especially that You are really and truly present in the Consecrated Host.

AN ACT OF HOPE.-O good Jesus, trusting in Your goodness and Your promises, I hope to receive from You grace, all good things needful, and eternal life.

AN ACT OF CHARITY.-Because You are infinitely good I love You, Jesus,with all my heart and soul and strength.

AN ACT OF CONTRITION.- O my God, I repent of all my sins because they have deserved Your punishments, but especially because they have offended Your infinite goodness.

AN ACT OF HUMILITY.-.O good Jesus, I am Your creature, full of misery and sin, and unworthy to receive You. AN ACT OF DESIRE.-O good Jesus, I earnestly desire to receive You into my heart; come to me quickly, and do not delay.

AFTER HOLY COMMUNION

AN ACT OF ADORATION. I adore You, O good Jesus present in my soul; I humble myself before You, I am astonished at Your wonderful goodness.

AN ACT OF GRATITUDE. O good Jesus, how can I thank You properly? I offer You all this thanksgivings of Your saints, especially of the Blessed Virgin, and of all who love You.

********

Psalter of Jesus

INDEX

“THERE IS NO OTHER NAME UNDER HEAVEN GIVEN TO MEN WHEREBY WE MAY BE SAVED.” ACTS 4:12

The Jesus Psalter is believed to have been composed in England by the Brigittine monk, Richard Whitford, who called himself “the Wretch of Sion.” This devotion was near and dear to the hearts of English Catholics in the days of persecution. It was printed and sold separately as early as 1520, though no copy from that period is known to have survived. In the oldest manuscripts and books the text of the prayer was usually given in English with the various notes and instructions in Latin.

BEGIN BY A DEVOUT BOWING OF THE HEAD OR GENUFLECTION AT THE ADORABLE NAME OF JESUS

PART I

“At the Name of Jesus let every knee bow, of things in heaven, of things in earth, and of things in hell; and let every tongue confess that our Lord Jesus Christ is in the glory of God the Father” (Phil 2:10,11)

FIRST PETITION

Jesus, Jesus, Jesus—have mercy on me. Jesus, Jesus, Jesus—have mercy on me. Jesus, Jesus, Jesus—have mercy on me.

Jesus, have mercy on me, O God of compassion, and forgive the many and great offences I have committed in Thy sight.

Many have been the follies of my life, and great are the miseries I have deserved for my ingratitude.

Have mercy on me, dear Jesus, for I am weak; O Lord, heal me, who am unable to help myself.

Deliver me from setting my heart upon any of Thy creatures, which may divert my eyes from continually looking up to Thee.

Grant me grace henceforth, for the love of Thee, to hate sin: and out of a just esteem of Thee, to despise worldly vanities.

Have mercy on all sinners, O Jesus, I beseech Thee; turn their vices into virtues and, making them true observers of Thy law and sincere lovers of Thee, bring them to bliss in everlasting glory. Have mercy also on the souls in Purgatory, for Thy bitter passion, I beseech Thee, and for Thy glorious name, Jesus.

O blessed Trinity, one eternal God, have mercy on me.

V. Glory be to the Father and to the Son and to the Holy Ghost.

R. As it was in the beginning, is now, and forever world without end. Amen. Our Father . . . Hail Mary . . .

SECOND PETITION

Jesus, Jesus, Jesus—help me. Jesus, Jesus, Jesus—help me. Jesus, Jesus, Jesus—help me.

Jesus, help me to overcome all temptations to sin and the malice of my ghostly enemy. Help me to spend my time in virtuous actions and in such labours as are acceptable to Thee. To resist and repress the motions of my flesh to sloth, gluttony, and impurity.

To render my heart enamoured of virtue and inflamed with desires of Thy glorious presence.

Help me to deserve and to keep a good name, by a peaceful and pious living; to Thy honour, O Jesus, to my own comfort and the benefit of others.

Have mercy on all sinners, O Jesus, I beseech Thee; turn their vices into virtues and, making them true observers of

Thy law and sincere lovers of Thee, bring them to bliss in everlasting glory. Have mercy also on the souls in Purgatory, for Thy bitter passion, I beseech Thee, and for Thy glorious name, Jesus.

O blessed Trinity, one eternal God, have mercy on me.

V. Glory be to the Father and to the Son and to the Holy Ghost.

R. As it was in the beginning, is now, and forever world without end. Amen. Our Father . . . Hail Mary . . .

THIRD PETITION

Jesus, Jesus, Jesus—strengthen me. Jesus, Jesus, Jesus—strengthen me. Jesus, Jesus, Jesus—strengthen me.

Jesus, strengthen me in soul and body, to please Thee in doing such works of virtue as may bring me to Thy everlasting joy and felicity.

Grant me a firm purpose, most merciful Saviour, to amend my life and atone of the years past:

Those years which I have misspent to Thy displeasure, in vain or wicked thoughts, words, deeds, and evil customs.

Make my heart obedient to Thy will; and ready, for Thy love, to perform all works of mercy.

Grant me the gifts of the Holy Ghost, which, through a virtuous life and a devout frequenting of the most holy sacraments, may at length bring me to Thy heavenly kingdom.

Have mercy on all sinners, O Jesus, I beseech Thee; turn their vices into virtues and, making them true observers of Thy law and sincere lovers of Thee, bring them to bliss in everlasting glory. Have mercy also on the souls in Purgatory, for Thy bitter passion, I beseech Thee, and for Thy glorious name, Jesus.

O blessed Trinity, one eternal God, have mercy on me.

V. Glory be to the Father and to the Son and to the Holy Ghost.

R. As it was in the beginning, is now, and forever world without end. Amen. Our Father . . . Hail Mary . . .

FOURTH PETITION

Jesus, Jesus, Jesus—comfort me. Jesus, Jesus, Jesus—comfort me. Jesus, Jesus, Jesus—comfort me.

Jesus, comfort me and give me grace to place my chief, my only, joy and felicity in Thee.

Send me heavenly meditations, spiritual sweetness, and fervent desires of Thy glory; ravish my soul with the contemplation of heaven, where I shall everlastingly dwell with Thee.

Bring often to my remembrance Thy unspeakable goodness, Thy gifts, and Thy great kindness shown to me.

And when Thou bringest to mind the sad remembrance of my sins, whereby I have so unkindly offended Thee, comfort me with the assurance of obtaining Thy grace by the spirit of perfect penance, purging away my guilt and preparing me for Thy kingdom.

Have mercy on all sinners, O Jesus, I beseech Thee; turn their vices into virtues and, making them true observers of Thy law and sincere lovers of Thee, bring them to bliss in everlasting glory. Have mercy also on the souls in Purgatory, for Thy bitter passion, I beseech Thee, and for Thy glorious name, Jesus.

O Blessed Trinity, one eternal God, have mercy on me.

V. Glory be to the Father and to the Son and to the Holy Ghost.

R. As it was in the beginning, is now, and forever world without end. Amen. Our Father . . . Hail Mary . . .

FIFTH PETITION

Jesus, Jesus, Jesus—make me constant

Jesus, Jesus, Jesus—make me constant

Jesus, Jesus, Jesus—make me constant

Jesus, make me constant in faith, hope, and charity with continuance in all virtues and resolution not to offend Thee.

Make the memory of Thy passion and of those bitter pains Thou sufferest for me, sustain my patience, and refresh me in all tribulations and adversity.

Make me ever hold fast the doctrines of Thy holy Catholic Church and be a diligent frequenter of all holy duties.

Let no false delight of this deceitful world blind me, no fleshy temptation or fraud of the devil shake my heart:

My heart, which has forever set up its rest in Thee; and is resolved to give up all things for Thy eternal reward.

Have mercy on all sinners, O Jesus, I beseech Thee; turn their vices into virtues and, making them true observers of Thy law and sincere lovers of Thee, bring them to bliss in everlasting glory. Have mercy also on the souls in Purgatory, for Thy bitter passion, I beseech Thee, and for Thy glorious name, Jesus.

O blessed Trinity, one eternal God, have mercy on me.

V. Glory be to the Father and to the Son and to the Holy Ghost.

R. As it was in the beginning, is now, and forever world without end. Amen. Our Father . . . Hail Mary . . .

“Our Lord Jesus Christ humbled Himself, becoming obedient unto death, even the death of the Cross” Phil 2:8.

Hear these my petitions, O most merciful Saviour, and grant me Thy grace so frequently to repeat and consider them, that they may prove easy steps, whereby my soul may climb up to the knowledge, love, and performance of my duty to Thee and to my neighbour through the whole course of my life. Amen.

Our Father . . . Hail Mary . . . I believe in God . . .

PART II

“At the Name of Jesus let every knee bow, of things in heaven, of things in earth, and of things in hell; and let every tongue confess that our Lord Jesus Christ is in the glory of God the Father” (Phil 2:10,11)

SIXTH PETITION

Jesus, Jesus, Jesus—enlighten me with spiritual wisdom. Jesus, Jesus, Jesus—enlighten me with spiritual wisdom. Jesus, Jesus, Jesus—enlighten me with spiritual wisdom.

Jesus, enlighten me with spiritual wisdom to know Thy goodness and all those things which are most acceptable to Thee.

Grant me a clear apprehension of my only good and discretion to order my life according to it.

Grant that I may wisely proceed from virtue to virtue till at length I arrive at the clear vision of Thy glorious majesty.

Permit me not, dear Lord, to return to those sins for which I have sorrowed and of which I have purged myself by confession.

Grant me grace to benefit the souls of others by my good example and to convert those by good council who have used me ill.

Have mercy on all sinners, O Jesus, I beseech Thee; turn their vices into virtues and, making them true observers of Thy law and sincere lovers of Thee, bring them to bliss in everlasting glory. Have mercy also on the souls in Purgatory, for Thy bitter passion, I beseech Thee, and for Thy glorious name, Jesus.

O blessed Trinity, one eternal God, have mercy on me.

V. Glory be to the Father and to the Son and to the Holy Ghost.

R. As it was in the beginning, is now, and forever world without end. Amen. Our Father . . . Hail Mary . . .

SEVENTH PETITION

Jesus, Jesus, Jesus—grant me grace to fear Thee. Jesus, Jesus, Jesus—grant me grace to fear Thee. Jesus, Jesus, Jesus—grant me grace to fear Thee.

Jesus, grant me grace inwardly to fear Thee and to avoid all occasions of offending Thee.

Let the threats of the torments which shall befall sinners, the fear of losing Thy love and Thy heavenly inheritance, ever keep me in awe.

Let me not dare to remain in sin, but call me soon to repentance: lest through Thine anger the dreadful sentence of endless death and damnation fall upon me.

May the powerful intercession of Thy blessed Mother and all the saints, and above all, Thy own merits and mercy, O my Saviour, be ever between Thy avenging justice and me.

Enable me, O my God, to work out my salvation with fear and trembling; and may the apprehension of Thy sacred judgments render me a more humble and diligent suitor at the throne of grace.

Have mercy on all sinners, O Jesus, I beseech Thee; turn their vices into virtues and, making them true observers of Thy law and sincere lovers of Thee, bring them to bliss in everlasting glory. Have mercy also on the souls in Purgatory, for Thy bitter passion, I beseech Thee, and for Thy glorious name, Jesus.

O blessed Trinity, one eternal God, have mercy on me.

V. Glory be to the Father and to the Son and to the Holy Ghost.

R. As it was in the beginning, is now, and forever world without end. Amen. Our Father . . . Hail Mary . . .

EIGHTH PETITION

Jesus, Jesus, Jesus—grant me grace truly to love Thee. Jesus, Jesus, Jesus—grant me grace truly to love Thee. Jesus, Jesus, Jesus—grant me grace truly to love Thee.

Jesus, grant me grace truly to love Thee for Thy infinite goodness and those great bounties I have received and hope forever to receive from Thee.

Let the remembrance of Thy kindness and patience conquer the malice and evil inclinations of my perverse nature.

Let the consideration of my deliverances and Thy gracious calls and continued protection through life shame me out of my ingratitude.

And what dost Thou require of me, for and by all Thy mercies, but to love Thee; and why, but because Thou art my only good?

O my dear Lord! my whole life shall be nothing but a desire of Thee: and because I truly love Thee, I will most diligently keep all Thy commandments.

Have mercy on all sinners, O Jesus, I beseech Thee; turn their vices into virtues and, making them true observers of Thy law and sincere lovers of Thee, bring them to bliss in everlasting glory. Have mercy also on the souls in Purgatory, for Thy bitter passion, I beseech Thee, and for Thy glorious name, Jesus.

O blessed Trinity, one eternal God, have mercy on me.

V. Glory be to the Father and to the Son and to the Holy Ghost.

R. As it was in the beginning, is now, and forever world without end. Amen. Our Father . . . Hail Mary . . .

NINTH PETITION

Jesus, Jesus, Jesus—grant me grace to remember my death. Jesus, Jesus, Jesus—grant me grace to remember my death. Jesus, Jesus, Jesus—grant me grace to remember my death.

Jesus, grant me grace always to remember my death and the great account I then must render; that so being kept continually disposed, my soul may depart out of this world rightly in Thy grace.

Then by the gracious intercession of Thy blessed Mother and the assistance of the glorious St. Michael, deliver me from the danger of my soul’s enemies; and do thou, my good angel, I beseech thee, help me at the hour of death.

O dear Jesus, remember Thy mercy; and turn not, for my offences, Thy face away from me.

Secure me against the terrors of that day, by causing me now to die daily to all earthly things and to have my continual conversation in heaven.

Let the remembrance of Thy death teach me how to esteem my life; and the memory of Thy resurrection encourage me cheerfully to descend into the grave.

Have mercy on all sinners, O Jesus, I beseech Thee; turn their vices into virtues and, making them true observers of Thy law and sincere lovers of Thee, bring them to bliss in everlasting glory. Have mercy also on the souls in Purgatory, for Thy bitter passion, I beseech Thee, and for Thy glorious name, Jesus.

O blessed Trinity, one eternal God, have mercy on me.

V. Glory be to the Father and to the Son and to the Holy Ghost.

R. As it was in the beginning, is now, and forever world without end. Amen. Our Father . . . Hail Mary . . .

TENTH PETITION

Jesus, Jesus, Jesus—send me here my purgatory. Jesus, Jesus, Jesus—send me here my purgatory. Jesus, Jesus, Jesus—send me here my purgatory.

Jesus, send me here my purgatory, and so prevent the torments of that cleansing fire, which, after this life, awaits unpurged souls.

Vouchsafe to grant me those merciful crosses and afflictions, which Thou seest are necessary to break off my affections from all things here below.

Since none can see Thee that loves any thing but for Thy sake, permit not my heart to find here any rest but a seeking after Thee.

Too bitter, alas! will be the anguish of a separated soul that desires, but cannot come to Thee, clogged with the heavy chains of sin.

Here then, O my Saviour, keep me continually mortified in this world; that purged thoroughly by the fire of love, I may immediately pass into the everlasting possessions.

Have mercy on all sinners, O Jesus, I beseech Thee; turn their vices into virtues and, making them true observers of Thy law and sincere lovers of Thee, bring them to bliss in everlasting glory. Have mercy also on the souls in Purgatory, for Thy bitter passion, I beseech Thee, and for Thy glorious name, Jesus.

O blessed Trinity, one eternal God, have mercy on me.

V. Glory be to the Father and to the Son and to the Holy Ghost.

R. As it was in the beginning, is now, and forever world without end. Amen. Our Father . . . Hail Mary . . .

“Our Lord Jesus Christ humbled Himself, becoming obedient unto death, even the death of the Cross” Phil 2:8.

Hear these my petitions, O most merciful Saviour, and grant me Thy grace so frequently to repeat and consider them, that they may prove easy steps, whereby my soul may climb up to the knowledge, love, and performance of my duty to Thee and to my neighbour through the whole course of my life. Amen.

Our Father . . . Hail Mary . . . I believe in God . . .

PART III

“At the Name of Jesus let every knee bow, of things in heaven, of things in earth, and of things in hell; and let every tongue confess that our Lord Jesus Christ is in the glory of God the Father” (Phil 2:10,11)

ELEVENTH PETITION

Jesus, Jesus, Jesus—grant me grace to fly evil company. Jesus, Jesus, Jesus—grant me grace to fly evil company. Jesus, Jesus, Jesus—grant me grace to fly evil company.

Jesus, grant me grace to fly evil company; or if I chance to come among such, I beseech Thee, by the merits of Thy uncorrupt conversation among sinners, preserve me from being overcome by any temptations to mortal sin.

Make me, O blessed Lord, remember always with dread, that Thou art present and hearest; who wilt judge us according to our words and actions.

How, then, dare I converse with slanderers, liars, drunkards, or swearers, or such whose discourse is either quarrelsome, dissolute, or vain?

Repress in me, dear Jesus, all inordinate affection for the pleasures of taste and of the flesh; and grant me grace to avoid all such as would excite the fire of these unhappy appetites.

May Thy power defend, Thy wisdom direct, Thy fatherly pity chastise me, and make me so to live here among men as may fit me for the conversation of angels hereafter.

Have mercy on all sinners, O Jesus, I beseech Thee; turn their vices into virtues and, making them true observers of Thy law and sincere lovers of Thee, bring them to bliss in everlasting glory. Have mercy also on the souls in Purgatory, for Thy bitter passion, I beseech Thee, and for Thy glorious name, Jesus.

O blessed Trinity, one eternal God, have mercy on me.

V. Glory be to the Father and to the Son and to the Holy Ghost.

R. As it was in the beginning, is now, and forever world without end. Amen. Our Father . . . Hail Mary . . .

TWELFTH PETITION

Jesus, Jesus, Jesus—grant me grace to call for help to Thee. Jesus, Jesus, Jesus—grant me grace to call for help to Thee. Jesus, Jesus, Jesus—grant me grace to call for help to Thee.

Jesus, grant me grace in all my necessities to call for help to Thee and faithfully remember Thy death and resurrection for me.

Wilt Thou be deaf to my cries, who wouldst lay down Thy life for my ransom? or canst Thou not save me, who couldst take it up again for my crown?

Whom have I to invoke but Thee, O my Jesus, whose own blessed mouth has pronounced, “Call upon me in the day of trouble and I will relieve thee “?

Thou art my sure rock of defence against all kinds of enemies; Thou art my ever present grace, able to strengthen me to fight and conquer.

In all my sufferings, therefore, in all my weakness and temptations, will I confidently call upon Thee; hear me, O my Jesus, and when Thou hearest, have mercy.

Have mercy on all sinners, O Jesus, I beseech Thee; turn their vices into virtues and, making them true observers of Thy law and sincere lovers of Thee, bring them to bliss in everlasting glory. Have mercy also on the souls in Purgatory, for Thy bitter passion, I beseech Thee, and for Thy glorious name, Jesus.

O blessed Trinity, one eternal God, have mercy on me.

V. Glory be to the Father and to the Son and to the Holy Ghost.

R. As it was in the beginning, is now, and forever world without end. Amen. Our Father . . . Hail Mary . . .

THIRTEENTH PETITION

Jesus, Jesus, Jesus—make me to persevere in virtue. Jesus, Jesus, Jesus—make me to persevere in virtue. Jesus, Jesus, Jesus—make me to persevere in virtue.

Jesus, make me to persevere in virtue and a good life; and never to draw back from serving Thee till Thou bringest me to my reward in Thy kingdom.

In all pious customs and holy duties, in my honest and necessary employments, continue and strengthen, O Lord, both my soul and body.

Is my life anything but a pilgrimage upon earth towards the new Jerusalem, at which he that sits down or turns out of the way can never arrive?

O Jesus, make me always consider Thy blessed example, through how many and great pains and how little pleasure Thou pressest on to a bitter death; because it is the way to a glorious resurrection.

Make me, O my Redeemer, seriously ponder those severe words of Thine, “He only that perseveres to the end shall be saved.”

Have mercy on all sinners, O Jesus, I beseech Thee; turn their vices into virtues and, making them true observers of Thy law and sincere lovers of Thee, bring them to bliss in everlasting glory. Have mercy also on the souls in Purgatory, for Thy bitter passion, I beseech Thee, and for Thy glorious name, Jesus.

O blessed Trinity, one eternal God, have mercy on me.

V. Glory be to the Father and to the Son and to the Holy Ghost.

R As it was in the beginning, is now, and forever world without end. Amen. Our Father . . . Hail Mary . . .

FOURTEENTH PETITION

Jesus, Jesus, Jesus—grant me grace to fix my mind on Thee. Jesus, Jesus, Jesus—grant me grace to fix my mind on Thee. Jesus, Jesus, Jesus—grant me grace to fix my mind on Thee.

Jesus, grant me grace to fix my mind on Thee; especially in the time of prayer, when I aspire to converse directly with Thee.

Control the wanderings of my mind and the affections of my heart; repress the power of my spiritual enemies who could then draw off my mind from heavenly things to thoughts and imaginations of vanity.

So shall I, with joy and gratitude, behold Thee as my deliverer from all the evils I have escaped, and as my benefactor for all the good I have received or can hope.

I shall see that Thou, Thy very Self, art my only good; and that all other things are but means ordained by Thee to make me fix my mind on Thee, to make me love Thee more and more and be eternally happy.

O beloved of my soul, absorb all my thoughts here, that I may become worthy to behold Thee forevermore face to face in Thy glory.

Have mercy on all sinners, O Jesus, I beseech Thee; turn their vices into virtues and, making them true observers of Thy law and sincere lovers of Thee, bring them to bliss in everlasting glory. Have mercy also on the souls in Purgatory, for Thy bitter passion, I beseech Thee, and for Thy glorious name, Jesus.

O blessed Trinity, one eternal God, have mercy on me.

V. Glory be to the Father and to the Son and to the Holy Ghost.

R. As it was in the beginning, is now, and forever world without end. Amen. Our Father . . . Hail Mary . . .

FIFTEENTH PETITION

Jesus, Jesus, Jesus—give me grace to order my life to Thee. Jesus, Jesus, Jesus—give me grace to order my life to Thee. Jesus, Jesus, Jesus—give me grace to order my life to Thee.

Jesus, give me grace to order my life to Thee, heartily intending and wisely designing all the operations of my body and soul, for obtaining the reward of Thy infinite bliss and eternal felicity.

For what else is this world, but a school to discipline souls and fit them for the other? And how are they fitted for it but by an eager desire of enjoying God, their only end?

Break my forward spirit, O Jesus; make it humble and obedient; grant me grace to depart hence with a contempt for this world and with a joyful hope of coming to Thee in the next.

Let the memory of Thy passion make me cheerfully embrace all occasions of suffering here for Thy love; whilst my soul breathes after that blissful life and immortal glory, which Thou hast ordained in heaven for Thy servants.

O Jesus, let me frequently and attentively consider whatsoever I gain, if I lose Thee, all is lost; and whatsoever I lose, if I gain Thee, all is gained.

Have mercy on all sinners, O Jesus, I beseech Thee; turn their vices into virtues and, making them true observers of Thy law and sincere lovers of Thee, bring them to bliss in everlasting glory. Have mercy also on the souls in Purgatory, for Thy bitter passion, I beseech Thee, and for Thy glorious name, Jesus.

O blessed Trinity, one eternal God, have mercy on me.

V. Glory be to the Father and to the Son and to the Holy Ghost.

R. As it was in the beginning, is now, and forever world without end. Amen. Our Father . . . Hail Mary . . .

“Our Lord Jesus Christ humbled Himself, becoming obedient unto death, even the death of the Cross” Phil 2:8.

Hear these my petitions, O most merciful Saviour, and grant me Thy grace so frequently to repeat and consider them, that they may prove easy steps, whereby my soul may climb up to the knowledge, love, and performance of my duty to Thee and to my neighbour through the whole course of my life. Amen.

Our Father . . . Hail Mary . . . I believe in God . .

THIRTY DAY PRAYER TO THE BLESSED VIRGIN MARY IN HONOUR OF THE SACRED PASSION OF OUR LORD JESUS CHRIST

By devoutly reciting this prayer to the Blessed Virgin Mary for thirty days, we may mercifully hope to obtain our prayer intention. This prayer is recommended as a proper devotion for every day in Lent, and all the Fridays throughout the year.

Ever glorious and blessed Mary, Queen of Virgins, Mother of Mercy, hope and comfort of dejected and desolate souls, through that sword of sorrow which pierced thy tender heart whilst thine only Son, Christ Jesus, our Lord, suffered death and ignominy on the cross; through that filial tenderness and pure love He had for thee, grieving in thy grief, whilst from His cross He recommended thee to the care and protection of His beloved disciple, St. John, take pity, I beseech thee, on my poverty and necessities; have compassion on my anxieties and cares; assist and comfort me in all my infirmities and miseries, of what kind soever.

Thou art the Mother of Mercies, the sweet Consolatrix and only refuge of the needy and the orphan, of the desolate and afflicted. Cast therefore, an eye of pity on a miserable, forlorn child of Eve, and hear my prayer; for since in just punishment of my sins, I find myself encompassed by a multitude of evils, and oppressed with much anguish of spirit, whither can I fly for more secure shelter, O amiable Mother of my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, than under the wings of thy maternal protection?

Attend, therefore, I beseech thee, with an ear of pity and compassion, to my humble and earnest request. I ask it, through the bowels of mercy of thy dear Son; through that love and condescension wherewith He embraced our nature, when in; compliance with thy divine will, thou gavest thy consent, and whom, after the expiration of nine months, thou didst bring forth from the chaste enclosure of thy womb, to visit this world, and bless it with His presence.

I ask it, through that anguish of mind wherewith thy beloved Son, our dear Saviour, was overwhelmed on Mount Olivet, when He besought His eternal Father, to remove from Him, if possible, the bitter chalice of His future passion.

I ask it, through the threefold repetition of His prayers in the Garden, from whence afterwards, with dolorous steps and mournful tears, thou didst accompany Him to the doleful theatre of His death and sufferings.

I ask it, through the welts and sores of His virginal flesh, occasioned by the cords and whips wherewith He was bound and scourged, when stripped of His seamless garment, for which His executioners afterwards cast lots.

I ask it, through the scoffs and ignominies by which He was insulted; the false accusations and unjust sentence by which He was condemned to death, and which He bore with heavenly patience.

I ask it, through His bitter tears and bloody sweat; His silence and resignation; His sadness and grief of heart.

I ask it, through the blood which trickled from His royal and sacred head, when struck with the sceptre of a reed, and pierced with His crown of thorns.

I ask it, through the excruciating torments He suffered, when His hands and feet were fastened with gross nails to the tree of the cross.

I ask it, through His vehement thirst, and bitter portion of vinegar and gall.

I ask it, through His dereliction on the cross, when He exclaimed: “My God! My God! Why hast Thou forsaken me?”

I ask it, through His mercy extended to the good thief, and through His recommending His precious soul and spirit into the hands of His eternal Father before He expired, saying: “All is consummated.”

I ask it, through the blood mixed with water, which issued from His sacred side when pierced with a lance, and whence a flood of grace and mercy has flowed to us.

I ask it, through His immaculate life, bitter passion, and ignominious death on the cross, at which nature itself was thrown into convulsions, by the bursting of rocks, rending of the veil of the Temple, the earthquake, and darkness of the sun and moon.

I ask it, through His descent into hell, where He comforted the Saints of the old law with His presence, and led captivity captive.

I ask it, through His glorious victory over death, when He arose again to life on the third day, and through the joy which His appearance for forty days after gave thee, His blessed Mother, His Apostles, and the rest of His Disciples; when in thine and their presence He miraculously ascended into heaven.

I ask it, through the grace of the Holy Ghost, infused into the hearts of His Disciples; when He descended upon them in the form of fiery tongues; and by which they were inspired with zeal in the conversion of the world, when they went to preach the gospel.

I ask it, through the awful appearance of thy Son, at the last dreadful day, when He shall come to judge the living and the dead, and the world by fire.

I ask it, through the compassion He bore thee in this life, and the ineffable joy thou didst feel at thine assumption into heaven, where thou art eternally absorbed in the sweet contemplation of His divine perfections.

O glorious and ever blessed Virgin! Comfort the heart of thy supplicant, by obtaining for me. . . . .. . . . (Here mention or reflect on your lawful request, under the reservation of its being agreeable to the will of God, who sees whether it will contribute towards your spiritual good)

And as I am persuaded my Divine Saviour doth honour thee as His beloved Mother, to whom He refuses nothing, because thou askest nothing contrary to His honour, so let me speedily experience the efficacy of thy powerful intercession, according to the tenderness of thy maternal affection, and His filial loving heart, who mercifully granteth the requests and complieth with the desires of those that love and fear Him.

Wherefore, O most blessed Virgin, beside the object of my present petition, and whatever else I may stand in need of, obtain for me also of thy dear Son, our Lord and our God, a lively faith, firm hope, perfect charity, true contrition of heart, unfeigned tears of compunction, sincere confession, condign satisfaction, abstinence from sin, love of God and my neighbour, contempt of the world, patience to suffer affronts and ignominies, nay, even, if necessary, an opprobrious death itself, for love of thy Son, our Saviour Jesus Christ.

Obtain likewise for me, O sacred Mother of God, perseverance in good works, performance of good resolutions, mortification of self-will, a pious conversation through life, and at my last moments, strong and sincere repentance, accompanied by such a lively and attentive presence of mind, as may enable me to receive the last Sacrament of the Church worthily, and die in thy friendship and favour.

Lastly, obtain through thy Son, I beseech thee, for the souls of my parents, brethren, relatives and benefactors, both living and dead, life everlasting, from the only Giver of every good and perfect gift, the Lord God Almighty: to whom be all power, now and forever. Amen.

********

Purgatory

BY FATHER FABER

INDEX

Rev. Frederick William Faber was born in England, 1814; ordained for the Church of England, 1839; received into Catholic Church, 1845;joined Newman’s Oratory, 1848; died, 1863.

There have always been two views of purgatory prevailing in the Church, not contradictory the one of the other, but rather expressive of the mind and devotion of those who have embraced them.

The first view is embodied in the terrifying sermons of the Italian Quaresimali, and in those wayside pictures which so often provoke the fastidiousness of the English traveller. It loves to represent purgatory as a hell which is not eternal. Violence, confusion, wailing, horror, preside over its descriptions. It dwells, and truly, on the terribleness of the pain of sense which the soul is mysteriously permitted to endure. The fire is the same fire as that of hell, created for the single a nd express purpose of giving torture. Our earthly fire is as painted fire compared to it. Besides this, there is a special and indefinable horror to the unbodied soul in becoming the prey of this material agony. The sense of imprisonment, close and intolerable, and the intense palpable darkness, are additional features in the horror of the scene, which prepare us for that sensible neighbourhood to hell, which many Saints have spoken of as belonging to purgatory. Angels are represented as active executioners of God’s awful justice. Some have even held that the demons are permitted to touch and harass the spouses of Christ in those ardent fires. Then to this terribleness of the pain of sense, is added the dreadfulness of the pain of loss. The beauty of God remains in itself the same immensely desirable object it ever was. But the soul is changed. All that in life and in the world of sense dulled its desires after God is gone from it, so that it seeks Him with an impetuosity which no imagination can at all conceive. The very burning excess of its love becomes the measure of its intolerable pain. What love can do even on earth we learn from the example of Father John Baptist Sanchez, who said he was sure he should die of misery, if any morning he rose he should know that he was certain not to die that day. To those horrors we might add many more which depict purgatory simply as a hell which is not eternal.

The second view of purgatory does not deny any one of the features of the preceding view, but it almost puts them out of sight by the other considerations which it brings more prominently forward. It goes into purgatory with its eyes fascinated and its spirit sweetly tranquillised, by the face of Jesus, its sight of the Sacred Humanity at the particular Judgment which it has undergone. That vision abides with it still, and beautifies the uneven terrors of its prison as if with perpetual silvery showers of moonlight which seem to fall from Our Saviour’s loving eyes. In the sea of fire it holds fast by that image. The moment that in His sight it perceives its own unfitness for heaven, it wings its voluntary flight to purgatory, like a dove to her proper nest in the shadows of the forest. There need be no Angels to convey it thither. It is its own free worship of the purity of God.

In that moment the soul loves God most tenderly, and in return is most tenderly loved by Him. The soul is in punishment, true;but it is in unbroken union with God. ―It has no remembrance,‖ says St. Catherine of Genoa most positively, ―no remembrance at all of its past sins or of earth.‖ Its sweet prison, its holy sepulchre, is in the adorable will of its heavenly Father, and there it abides the term of its purification with the most perfect contentment and the most unutterable love. As it is not teased by any vision of self or sin, so neither is it harassed by an atom of fear, or by a single doubt of its own imperturbable security. It is impeccable; and there was a time on earth when that gift alone seemed as if it would contain all heaven in itself. It cannot commit the slightest imperfection. It cannot have the least movement of impatience. It can do nothing whatever which will in the least displease God. It loves God above everything, and it loves Him with a pure and disinterested love. It is constantly consoled by Angels, and cannot but rejoice in the confirmed assurance of its own salvation. Nay; its very bitterest agonies are accompanied by a profound unshaken peace, such as the language of this world has no words to tell.

No sooner has a soul, with the guilt of no mortal sin upon it, but owing to God a debt of temporal punishment, issued from the world, and been judged, than it perceives itself to be confirmed in grace and charity (according to St. Catherine). It is incapable either of sinning or of meriting any more; and it is destined by an eternal and immutable decree to enter one day as a queen into the kingdom of the blessed, to see, to love, and to enjoy God, the perpetual fountain of all felicity.

In that instant all the sins of its past are represented to the soul, whether mortal or venial, even though they have been remitted in lifetime by Contrition and the Sacrament of Penance. But after this transitory and instantaneous view of them, the soul remembers nothing more about them. The Saints’ words are: ―The cause of purgatory, which these souls have in themselves, they see once for all, in passing out of this life, and never afterwards.‖ The reason of this exhibition of sins is, she teaches us, to enable the soul in that moment, by an act, no longer indeed meritorious, but nevertheless a real act of the will, to detest all its sins afresh, and especially those venial sins for which it had not contrition in lifetime, either through the weakness of an imperfect heart, or through the accident of a sudden death, that so it may be strictly true, that no sin whatever is pardoned unless the sinner makes an act of detestation of it.

After this momentary view of sins and formal detestation of them, the soul perceives in itself their evil consequences and malignant legacies,‖ and these form what the Saint calls ―the impediment of seeing God.‖ ―The rust of sin,‖ she says, ―is the impediment, and the fire keeps consuming the rust; and as a thing which is covered cannot correspond to the re- verberation of the sun’s rays, so, if the covering be consumed, the thing is at length laid open to the sun.

As soon as the soul perceives itself to be acceptable to God, and constituted heir of paradise, but unable, because of this impediment, to take immediate possession of its inheritance, it conceives an intense desire to be rid of this hindrance, this double obligation of guilt and punishment. But knowing that purgatory alone can consume these two obligations, and that it is for that very end God condemns the soul to fire, it desires itself to endure the punishment. ―The soul separated from the body (these are the Saint’s words), not finding in itself this impediment which cannot be taken away except by purgatory, at once throws itself into it with right good will.

Nay, if it did not find this ordinance of purgatory aptly contrived for the removal of this hindrance, there would instantaneously be generated in it a hell far worse than purgatory, inasmuch as it would see that because of this impediment it could not unite itself to God Who is its end. Wherefore, if the soul could find another purgatory fiercer than this, in which it could the sooner get rid of this impediment, it would speedily plunge itself therein, through the impetuosity of the love it bears to God.‖

But this is not all. The Saint goes on to teach that if the soul, labouring under this impediment, were free to choose between ascending at once, as it is, to paradise, and descending to suffer in purgatory, it would choose to suffer, although the sufferings be almost as dreadful as those of hell. These are her words: ―Of how much importance purgatory is no tongue can tell, no mind conceive. So much I see, that its pain is almost as if it were that of hell; and yet I see also that the soul which perceives in itself the slightest flaw or mote of imperfection, would rather throw itself into a thousand hells, than find itself in the presence of the divine Majesty with that defect upon it; and, therefore, seeing purgatory to be ordained for the very taking away of these flaws, forthwith it plunges into it, and it seems by its bearing, as I see, to conceive that it finds there an invention of no little mercy, simply in the being able to get rid of this impediment.‖

When the righteous soul has thus arrived in purgatory, losing sight of everything else, it sees before it only two objects-the extremity of suffering, and the extremity of joys. A most tremendous pain is caused by knowing that God loves it with an infinite love, that He is the Chief Good, that He regards the soul as His daughter, and that He has predestined it to enjoy Him for ever in company with the Blessed: and hence the soul loves Him with a pure and most perfect charity. At the same time it perceives that it cannot see Him or enjoy Him yet, though it so intensely yearns to do so ; and this afflicts it so much the more, as it is quite uncertain when the term of its penal exile, away from its Lord and paradise, will be fulfilled. This is the pain of loss in purgatory, of which the Saint says that it is ― a pain so extreme, that no tongue can tell it, no understanding grasp the least portion of it. Though God in His favour showed me a little spark thereof, yet can I not in any way express it with my tongue.‖

Now let us examine the other object, the extremity of joy. As it loves God with the purest affection, and knows its sufferings to be the will of God in order to procure its purification, it conforms itself perfectly to the divine decree. While in purgatory, it sees nothing but that this pleases God; it takes in no idea but that of His will; it apprehends nothing so clearly as the suitableness of this purification, in order to present it all fair and lovely to so great a majesty. Thus, the Saint says: ― If a soul, having still something left to be cleansed away, were presented to the Vision of God, it would be worse than that of ten purgatories; for it would be quite unable to endure that excessive goodness and that exquisite justice.‖ Hence it is that the suffering soul is entirely resigned to the will of its Creator. It loves its very pains, and rejoices in them because they are a holy ordinance of God. Thus in the midst of the ardent heats it enjoys a contentment so complete that it exceeds the grasp of human intelligence to comprehend it. ―I do not believe,‖ says the Saint, ―that it is possible to find a contentment to compare with that of the souls in purgatory, unless it be the contentment of the Saints in paradise. This contentment increases daily through the influx of God into those souls, and this influx increases in proportion as the impediment is consumed and worn away. Indeed, so far as the will is concerned, we can hardly say that the pains are pains at all, so contentedly do the souls rest in the ordinance of God, to whose will pure love unites them.‖

In another place, St. Catherine says that this inexplicable jubilee of the soul, while it is undergoing purgatory springs from the strength and purity of its love of God. ―This love gives to the soul such a contentment as cannot be expressed. But this contentment does not take away one iota from the pain; nay, it is the retarding of love from the possession of its object which causes the pain; and the pain is greater according to the greater perfection of love of which God has made the soul capable. Thus the souls in purgatory have at once the greatest contentment and the greatest suffering; and the one in no way hinders the other.‖ As to prayers, alms, and Masses, she asserts that the souls experience great consolation from them; but that in these, as in other matters, their principal solicitude is that everything should be ―weighed in the most equitable scales of the Divine Will, leaving God to take His own course in everything, and to pay Himself and His justice in the way His own infinite goodness chooses to select.‖

When she looked at herself with the light of supernatural illumination, she saw that God had set her up in the Church as an express and living image of purgatory. She says: ―This form of purification, which I behold in the souls in purgatory, I perceive in my own soul now. I see that my soul dwells in its body as in a purgatory altogether comformable to the true purgatory, only in such measure as my body can bear without dying. Nevertheless, it is always increasing by little and little, untilit reaches the point when it will really die.‖ Her death was indeed most wonderful, and has always been considered as a martyrdom of Divine Love. So truly from the first has her position been appreciated, as the great doctor of purgatory, that in the oldlife of her, the ―vita antica,‖ examined by theologians in 1670, and approved in the Roman process of her canonisation, and which was composed by Marabotto, her confessor, and Vernaza, her spiritual son, it is said: ―Verily it seems that God set up this His creature as a mirror and an example of the pains of the other life, which souls suffer in purgatory. It is just as if He had placed her upon a high wall, dividing this life from the life to come; so that, seeing what is suffered in that life beyond, she might manifest to us, even in this life, what we are to expect when we have passed the boundary.‖ This is a mere epitome of her wonderful and exquisitely beautiful treatise, which has given St. Catherine a rank among the theologians of the Church.

I suppose there is none of us who expects to be lost. We know and feel, with more or less of alarm, the greatness of the risk we are running; but to expect to be lost would be the sin of despair. Hell is only practical to us as a motive of greater diligence, greater strictness, greater circumspectness, greater fear. It is not so with purgatory. I suppose we all expect, or think ourselves sure, to go there. If we do not think much of the matter at all, then we may have some vague notion of going straight to heaven as soon as we are judged. But if we seriously reflect upon it,upon our own lives, upon God’s sanctity, upon what we read in books of devotion and the lives of the Saints, I can hardly conceive any one of us expecting to escape purgatory, and not rather feeling that it must be almost a stretch of the divine mercy which will get us even there. It would more likely be vain presumption than heroic hope, if we thought otherwise. Now, if we really expect that our road to heaven will be through the punishment of purgatory, for surely its purification is penal, it very much concerns us to know what is common to both the views of purgatory, which it appears prevail in the Church.

First, both these views agree that the pains are extremely severe, as well because of the office which God intends them to fulfil, as because of the disembodied soul being the subject of them. Both agree, also, in the length of the suffering. This requires to be dwelt upon, as it is hard to convince people of it, and a great deal comes of the conviction, both to ourselves and others. This duration may be understood in two ways: first, as of actual length of time, and, secondly, as of seeming length from the excess of pain. With regard to the first, if we look into the revelations of Sister Francesca of Pampeluna, we shall find, among some hundreds of cases, that by far the great majority suffered thirty, forty, or sixty years.

This disclosure may teach us greater watchfulness over ourselves, and more unwearied perseverance in praying for the departed. The old foundations for perpetual Masses embody the same sentiment. We are apt to leave off too soon, imagining with a foolish and unenlightened fondness that our friends are freed from purgatory much sooner than they really are. If Sister Francesca beheld the souls of many fervent Carmelites, some of whom had wrought miracles in lifetime still in purgatory ten, twenty, thirty, sixty years after their death, and still not near their deliverance, as many told her, what must become of us and ours? Then as to seeming length from the extremity of pain, there are many instances on record in the Chronicles of the Franciscans, the life of St. Francis Jerome, and elsewhere, of souls appearing an hour or two after death, and thinking they had been many years in purgatory. Such may be the purgatory of those who are caught up to meet the Lord at the Last Day.

Both views agree again in holding that what we in the world call very trivial faults are most severely visited in purgatory. St. Peter Damian gives us many instances of this, and others are collected and quoted by Bellarmine. Slight feelings of self-complacency, trifling inattentions in the recital of the Divine Office, and the like, occur frequently among them. Sister Francesca mentions the case of a girl of fourteen in purgatory, because she was not quite conformed to the will of God in dying so young: and one soul said to her: ―Ah men little think in the world how dearly they are going to pay here for faults they hardly note there.‖ She even saw souls that were immensely punished only for having been scrupulous in this life; either, I suppose, because there is mostly self-will in scruples, or because they did not lay them down when obedience commanded. Wrong notions about small faults may thus lead us to neglect the dead, or leave off our prayers too soon, as well as lose a lesson for ourselves.

Then, again, both views agree as to the helplessness of the Holy Souls. They lie like the paralytic at the pool. It would seem as if even the coming of the angel were not an effectual blessing to them, unless there be some one of us to help them Some have even thought they cannot pray. Anyhow, they have no means of making themselves heard by us on whose charity they depend. Some writers have said that Our Blessed Lord will not help them without our co-operation; and that Our Blessed Lady cannot help them, except in indirect ways, because she is no longer able to make satisfaction; though I never like to hear anything our dearest mother cannot do; and I regard such statements with suspicion. Whatever may come of these opinions, they at least illustrate the strong way in which theologians apprehend the helplessness of the Holy Souls. Then another feature in their helplessness is the forgetfulness of the living, or the cruel flattery of relations who will always have it that those near or dear to them die the deaths of Saints. They would surely have a scruple, if they knew of how many Masses and prayers they rob the souls, by the selfish exaggeration of their goodness. I call it selfish, for it is nothing more than a miserable device to console themselves in their sorrow. The very state of the Holy Souls is one of the most unbounded helplessness. They cannot do penance; they cannot merit; they cannot satisfy; they cannot gain indulgences; they have no Sacraments; they are not under the jurisdiction of God’s Vicar, overflowing with the plentitude of means of grace and manifold benedictions. They are a portion of the Church without either priesthood or altar at their own command.

Those are the points common to both views of purgatory; and how manifold are the lessons we learn from them, on our own behalf as well as on behalf of the Holy Souls. For ourselves, what light does all this throw on slovenliness, lukewarmness, and love of ease? What does it make us think of performing our devotions out of a mere spirit of formality, or a trick of habit? What diligence in our examens, confessions, Communions, and prayers! It seems as if the grace of all graces for which we should ever be importuning our dear Lord, would be to hate sin with something of the hatred wherewith He hated it in the garden of Gethsemane. Oh, is not the purity of God something awful, unspeakable, adorable? He, who is Himself a simple act, has gone on acting, multiplying acts since creation, yet he has incurred no stain! He is ever mingling with a most unutterable condescension with what is beneath Him-yet no stain! He loves His creatures with a love immeasurably more intense than the wildest passion of earth- yet no stain! He is omnipotent, yet it is beyond the limits of His power to receive a stain. He is so pure that the very vision of Him causes eternal purity and blessedness. Mary’s purity is but a fair thin shadow of it, and yet we, even we, are to dwell in His arms for ever, we are to dwell amid the everlasting burnings of that uncreated purity! Yet, let us look at our lives; let us trace our hearts faithfully through but one day, and see of what mixed intentions, human respects, self-love, and pusillanimous temper our actions, nay, even our devotions, are made up of; and does not purgatory, heated seven-fold and endured to the day of doom, seem but a gentle novitiate for the Vision of the All-holy?

But some persons turn in anger from the thought of purgatory, as if it were not to be endured, that after trying all our lives long to serve God, we should accomplish the tremendous feat of a good death, only to pass from the agonies of the death-bed into fire, long, keen, searching, triumphant, incomparable fire. Alas! my dear friends, your anger will not help you nor alter facts. But have you thought sufficiently about God? Have you tried to realise His holiness and purity in assiduous meditation? Is there a real divorce between you and the world which youknow is God’s enemy? Do you take God’s side? Are you devoted to His interests? Do you long for His glory? Have you put sin alongside of our dear Saviours’ Passion, and measured the one by the other? Surely, if you had, purgatory would but seem to you the last, unexpected, and inexpressibly tender invention of an obstinate love, which was mercifully determined to save you in spite of yourself. It would be a perpetual wonder to you, a joyous wonder, fresh every morning, a wonder that would be meat and drink to your soul, that you, being what you know yourself to be, what God knows you to be, should be saved eternally. Remember what the suffering soul said so simply, yet with such force, to Sister Francesca: “ Ah! those on that side of the grave little reckonhow dearly they will pay on this side for the lives they live!‖ To be angry because you are told you will go to purgatory! Silly, silly people Most likely it is a great false flattery, and that you will never be good enough to go there at all. Why, positively, you do not recognise your own good fortune, when you are told of it. And none but the humble go there. I remember Maria Crocifissa was told that although many of the Saints while on earth loved God more than some do even in heaven, yet that the greatest Saint on earth was not so humble as are the souls in purgatory. I do not think I ever read anything in the lives of the Saints which struck me so much as that. You see it is not well to be angry; for those only are lucky enough to get into purgatory who sincerely believe themselves to be worthy of hell.

But we not only learn lessons for our own good, but for the good of the Holy Souls. We see that our charitable attention towards them must be far more vigorous and persevering than they have been; for men go to purgatory for very little matters, and remain there an unexpectedly long time. But their most touching appeal to us lies in their helplessness; and our dear Lord, with His usual loving arrangement, has made the extent of our power to help them more than commensurate with their ability to help themselves. Some theologians have said that prayer for the Holy Souls is not infallibly answered. I confess their arguments on this head do not convince me; but, conceding the point, how wonderful still is the power which we can exercise in favour of the departed! St. Thomas has at least taught us that prayer for the dead is more readily accepted with God than prayer for the living. We can offer and apply for them all the satisfactions of Our Blessed Lord. We can do vicarious penance for them. We can give to them all the satisfactions of our ordinary actions, and of our sufferings. We can make over to them, by way of suffrage, the indulgences we gain, provided the Church has made them applicable to the dead. We can limit and direct to them, or any one of them, the intention of the Adorable Sacrifice. The Church, which has no jurisdiction over them, can yet make indulgences applicable or inapplicable to them by way of suffrage; and by means of liturgy, commemoration, incense, holy water, and the like, can reach efficaciously to them, and most of all by her device of privileged altars. The Communion of Saints furnishes the veins and channels by which all these things reach them in Christ. Heaven itself condescends to act upon them through earth. Their Queen helps them by setting us to work for them, and the Angels and the Saints bestow their gifts through us, whom they persuade to be their almoners; nay, we are often their almoners without knowing that we are so. Our Blessed Lord vouchsafes to look to us, as if He would say: Here are my weapons, work for me! just as a father will let his child do a portion of his work, in spite of the risk he runs in having it spoiled. To possess such powers, and not to use them, would be the height of irreverence towards God, as well as of want of charity to men. There is nothing so irreverent, because nothing so unfilial, as to shrink from God’s gifts simply because of their exhuberance. Men have a feeling of safety in not meddling with the supernatural; but the truth is, we cannot stand aloof on one side and be safe. Naturalism is the unsafe thing. If we do not enter the system, and humbly take our place in it, it will draw us in, only to tear us to pieces when it has done so. The dread of the supernatural is the unsafest of feelings. The jealousy of it is a prophecy of eternal loss.

It is not saying too much to call devotion to the Holy Souls a kind of centre in which all Catholic devotions meet, and which satisfies more than any other single devotion our duties in that way; because it is a devotion all of love, and of disinterested love. If we cast an eye over the chief Catholic devotion, we shall see the truth of this. Take the devotion of St. Ignatius to the glory of God. This, if we may dare to use such an expression of Him, was the special and favourite devotion of Jesus. Now, purgatory is simply a field white for the harvest of God’s glory. Not a prayer can be said for the Holy Souls, but God is at once glorified, both by the faith and the charity of the mere prayer.

Again, what devotion is justly more dear to Christians than the devotion to the Sacred Humanity of Jesus? It is rather a family of various and beautiful devotions, than a devotion by itself. Yet see how they are all, as it were, fulfilled, affectionately fulfilled, in devotion to the Holy Souls. The quicker the souls are liberated from purgatory, the more is the bountiful harvest of His Blessed Passion multiplied and accelerated. An early harvest is a blessing, as well as a plentiful one; for all delay of a soul’s ingress into the praise of heaven is an eternal and irremediable loss of honour and glory to the Sacred Humanity of Jesus. How strangely things sound in the language of the sanctuary! Yet so it is. Can the Sacred Humanity be honoured more than by the adorable sacrifice of the Mass? But here is our chief action upon purgatory. Faith in His Sacraments as used for the dead is a pleasing homage to Jesus; and the same may be said of faith in indulgences and privileged altars and the like. The powers of the Church will flow from His Sacred Humanity, and are a perpetual praise and thank-offering to it. So, again, this devotion honours Him by imitating His zeal for souls. For this zeal is a badge of His people, and an inheritance for Him.

Devotion to our dearest Mother is equally comprehended in this devotion to the Holy Souls, whether we look at her as the Mother of Jesus, and so sharing the honours of His Sacred Humanity, or as Mother of Mercy, and so especially worshipped* by works of mercy, or, lastly, whether we regard her, as in a particular sense, the queen of purgatory, and so having all manner of dear interests to be promoted in the welfare and deliverance of those suffering souls.

Next to this we may rank devotion to the holy Angels, and this also is satisfied in devotion to the Holy Souls. For it keeps filling the vacant thrones in the angelic choirs, those unsightly gaps which the fall of Lucifer and one-third of the heavenly host occasioned. It multiplies the companions of the blessed spirits. They may be supposed also to look with an especial interest on that part of the Church which lies in purgatory, because it is already crowned with their own dear gift and ornament of final perseverance, and yet, it has not entered at once into its inheritance as they did. Many of them also have a tender personal interest in purgatory. Thousands, perhaps millions of them, are guardians to those souls, and their office is not yet over. Thousands have clients there who were specially devoted to them in life.

Neither is devotion to the Saints without its interests in this devotion for the dead. It fills them with the delights of charity, as it swells their numbers, and beautifies their ranks and orders. Numberless patron saints are personally in multitudes of souls. The affectionate relation between their clients and themselves not only subsists, but a deeper tenderness has entered into it, because of the fearful suffering, and a livelier interest because of the accomplished victory. They see in the Holy Souls their handiwork, the fruit of their patronage, the beautiful and finished crown of their affectionate intercession.

But there is another peculiarity in this devotion for the dead. It does not rest in words and feelings, nor does it merely-

*1 do not refrain from the use of this word as the English translation of cultus weary experience shows that objectors obstinately repeat their objections, whatever we do to abate them, and they rather triumph over the show of weakness, than appreciate the charity of such like condescensions. We lose by them ourselves, without gaining opponents. lead to action indirectly and at last. It is action itself, and thus it is a substantial devotion. It speaks and a deed is done; it loves and a pain is lessened; it sacrifices, and a soul is delivered. Nothing can be more solid. We might also dare to compare it, in its pure measure, to the efficacious voice of God, which works what it says, and effects what it utters and wills, and a creation comes. The royal devotion of the Church is the works of mercy; and see how they are all satisfied in this devotion for the dead It feeds the hungry souls with Jesus, the Bread of Angels. It gives them to drink in their incomparable thirst, His Precious Blood. It clothes the naked with a robe of glory. It visits the sick with mighty powers to heal, and at the last consoles them by the visit. It frees the captives with a heavenly and eternal freedom, from a bondage dreader far than death. It takes in the strangers and heaven is the hospice into which it receives them. It buries the dead in the Bosom of Jesus in everlasting rest. When the last doom shall come, and our dearest Lord shall ask those seven questions of His judicial process, those interrogatories of the works of mercy, how happy will that man be, and it may be the poorest beggar amongst us who never gave any alms because he has had to live on alms himself, who shall hear his own defence sweetly and eloquently taken up by crowds of blessed souls, to whom he has done all these things while they waited in their prison-house of hope.

Another point of view, from which we may look at this devotion for the dead, is as a specially complete and beautiful exercise of the three theological virtues, of faith, hope, and charity, which are the supernatural fountains of our whole spiritual life.

Neither is this devotion a less heroic exercise of the theological virtue of hope, the virtue so sadly wanting in the spiritual life of these times. For, look what a mighty edifice this devotion raises: lofty, intricate, and of magnificent proportions, into which somehow or other all creation is drawn, from the little headache we offer up to the Sacred Humanity of Jesus, and which has to do even with God Himself. Yet upon what does all this rest, except on a simple, childlike trust in God’s Fidelity, which is the supernatural motive of hope? We hope for the souls we help, and unbounded are the benedictions which we hope for in this regard. We hope to find mercy ourselves, because of our mercy; and this hope quickens our efforts without detracting from the merit of our charity. If we give away our own satisfaction, and the indulgences we gain, to the souls in purgatory, instead of keeping them for ourselves, what is this but a heroic exercise of hope? We throw ourselves upon God. We hardly face the thought that we ourselves are thus sentencing ourselves, it may be, to abide years and years longer in that unconquerable fire. We shut our eyes, we quell the rising thought, we give our alms, and throw ourselves on God. We shall not be defrauded of our hope. Who ever trusted Him, and His trust failed? No! No! All is right when it is left to God.

As to the charity of this devotion it dares to imitate even the charity of God Himself. What is there in heaven or on earth which it does not embrace, and with such facility, with so much gracefulness, as if there were scarcely an effort in it, or as if self was charmed away, and might not mingle to distract it? It is an exercise of the love of God; for it is loving those whom He loves, and loving them because He loves them and to augment His glory, and multiply His praise. There are a hundred loves of God in this one love, as we should see if we reflected on those Holy Souls, and realised all that was implied in the final entry of a soul into everlasting bliss. It is love towards the Sacred Humanity, because it magnifies the copious redemption of Jesus. It honours His merits, satisfactions, ordinances and mysteries. It peoples His heaven, and it glorifies His Blood. It is filled with Jesus, with His spirit, with His work, with His power, with His victories. No less is it an exercise of love to our dearest Lady, as I have shown before; and to the Angels and Saints. How abundant is its charity to the souls themselves; who can exaggerate, whether to give them the good measure of all the Church tells us to do, and some spontaneous alms besides; or the full measure of all our satisfactions during lifetime, and which are not by justice due elsewhere, as St. Gertrude gave them; or the measure shaken together, which adds that which shall be done for us when we are dead, like Father Munroy’s heroic act of self-renunciation; or the measure running over, which heaps upon all the rest special works of love, such as promoting this devotion by conversions, sermons, and books, and by getting Masses, Communions, penances, indulgences, from others for them. All men living on the earth, even unconverted sinners, are included in it, because it swells the Church Triumphant, and so multiplies intercessors for us who are still warring upon earth. To ourselves also it is an exercise of charity, for it gains us friends in heaven; it earns mercy for us when we ourselves shall be in purgatory, tranquil victims, yet, oh, in what distress! and it augments our merits in the sight of God, and so, if only we persevere, our eternal recompense hereafter. Now, if this tenderness for the dead is such an exercise of these three theological virtues, and if again even heroic sanctity consists principally in their exercises, what store ought we not to set upon this touching and beautiful devotion!

But a further excellence in this devotion is to be found in its effects upon the spiritual life. It would seem as if it were a devotion specially intended for interior souls. But the fact is, that it is so full of doctrine, and embodies so much that is supernatural that we need not be surprised at the influence it exercises over the spiritual life. In the first place, it is a hidden work from first to last. We do not see the results, so that there is little food for vain-glory; neither is it a devotion the exercise of which appears in any way before the eyes of others. It implies, moreover, an utter ignoring of self, by making away with our own satisfactions and indulgences, and keeping up a tender interest in an object which does not directly concern ourselves. It is not only for the glory of God, but it is for His greater glory, and for His sole glory. It leads us to think purely of souls, which is very difficult to do in this material world, and to think of them, too, simply as spouses of Jesus. We thus gain a habit of mind which is fatal to the spirit of the world and to the tyranny of human respect, while it goes far to counteract the poison of self-love. The incessant thought of the Holy Souls keeps before us a continual image of suffering; and not merely passive suffering, but a joyful conformity to the will of God under it. Yet this is the very genius of the Gospel, the very atmosphere of holiness.

Furthermore, it communicates to us, as it were, by sympathy the feelings of those Holy Souls, and so increases our trembling, yet trustful, devotion to the adorable purity of God; and as, except in the case of indulgences applied to the dead, it requires a state of grace to make satisfaction for the sins of others, it is a special act of the lay priesthood of the members of Christ. The spirit of the devotion is one of pensiveness; and this is an antidote to frivolity and hardness, and tells wonderfully upon the affectionate character which belongs to high sanctity. We can tell what will come after patient years of thus keeping constantly before our eyes a model of eagerness, unspeakable, patient eagerness, to be with our dearest Lord? It is almost omnipotent, almost omnipresent; because it is not so much he who lives as Christ who liveth in him! What is it we are touching and handling every day of our lives, all so full of supernatural vigour, of secret unction, of divine force, and yet we consider it not, but waste intentions and trifle time away in the midst of this stupendous supernatural system of grace, as unreflecting almost as a stone embedded in the earth and borne round unconsciously in its impetuous revolutions, day by day.

Nihil Obstat:

Joseph P. Newth, C.C., Censor Theol. Deput

Imprimi Potest:

@ Joannes Carolus, Archiep. Dublinen., Hiberniae Prirnas

DUBLINI DIE 28 NOV. ANNO 1956.

********

Purity

BY BEDE JARRETT O.P

INDEX

THE virtue of Purity, though so much at variance with human nature in its observance, is nevertheless a virtue which human nature justifies and human reason approves. In its exquisite refinements it is essentially Christian and revealed, but in the general appreciation of its beauty all cults and all culture have agreed. Its difficulty does not hurt its attractiveness; its idealism has never seemed wholly fantastic; its appeal has always been in an especial manner to youth-impulsive, impetuous, undisciplined, generous, furiously alive. Even the modern and sometimes maudlin love for childhood is a tribute to innocence and purity, or at least a reaction against the indecencies of art and printed page in which our generation finds itself submerged.

Man, to the follower of Christ, is the most wonderful of God’s creation, compacted of admirable powers. To the followers of Christ, those who knew Him and had even handled Him, their fellow-men were so wonderful that to have missed loving them was to have missed loving God; God unseen was yet seen in man, for man’s likeness to God was evident to those who loved God, and only to them. To the beloved disciple, man was God-like.

It does not seem possible that St John was thinking merely of the bodily frame of man, though that was present to his mind when he spoke of man as ‘seen’; he must have been especially conscious of man’s being God-like in his higher powers of intelligence and will. Certainly, there man touches the crown of creation, for by these powers man is able to love. Love means choice, and choice, again, means a mind that distinguishes this from that, and thereby offers a choice, and collects motives for choosing, and selects as dominant in its choosing the reasons that suit it. Thus, behind love is intelligence always; but love implies also a will that works on the intellect’s collected material and actually chooses. The mind gives its list of motives-the will decides on the motives most compelling at the moment. The will chooses, and, having chosen, commandsits choice. So love stands in man’s life as the act that most nobly engages his greatest powers; the mind knowing, and the will choosing because of what the mind knows, and then loving its choice. Just as we are told that God is love, so, too, in a sense,is man love, or so, too, is love in man ‘above all his works’ and the noblest act of his soul: ‘Thou shall love the Lord thy God with thy whole soul . . . on this resteth the law and the prophets.’ Even his relationship to his fellows and to himself seems to have no higher expression: ‘Thou shall love thy neighbour as thyself.’ Love is the fulfilling of the law.

Man, then, in his duty to God, must be moved by love; or, again, man must fulfil his duty to God lovingly and freely. Freedom is of the essence of his life and gifts: he should only offer a free offering. It must be freely given to be worth the Father’s acceptance: ‘Whose service is perfect freedom.’ Man has not only the obligation of serving God, but also, paradoxical as it sounds, he must love God freely, he cannot be constrained even by fear. Love must come and cast out fear.

That helps us to understand the importance of the Incarnation. Our Lord came, undoubtedly, to set us free, so that we might freely serve the God who made us: He came when the long discipline of fear had been passed and at last time’s fullness had arrived, to set us out, erect and joyous, on the path of freedom and to inspire us to love God and to serve Him because we loved Him. It is of the essence of the new dispensation that love should lead us, and that ‘anew and living way’ should be made manifest, gentler and yet more consuming than the older: not so much the awfulness as the mercy of God, not so much the God who slew the sinner, but rather the God who willeth that he should be converted and live.

God redeemed us, therefore, and set us in ‘the Kingdom of the Son of His love’; once within that Kingdom, He gave us the means to be able to serve Him nobly. He gave us the chance to have the means of service within our grasp. To more than this He would not compel us. He only compelled us to ‘come in.’ The grace of faith was His gift, sometimes, as with St. Paul, overwhelming and beyond discussion. But once within that Kingdom, we have our old freedom to act or not to act, to act thus and not the other way. Sacraments, prayer, the example of others, our correction by our elders or our friends, friendship itself, and ten thousand other means of help were now henceforth about us to enable us to serve God better: they did but enable us to do the better thing, they did not make the better thing itself, and of itself, be done. Thus, once again, we were left to ourselves to serve freely; everything to help, but nothing to compel. But the selves to which we were left, though they were ransomed selves, were not wholly repaired or restored. We still have defects about us, not our own doing exactly, but inherited in the nature which is ours.

For the point which has never to be obscured is that human nature has suffered a hurt from which it is not wholly cured this side of death. Not an actual sin, but an inherited sin infects us all. We have succeeded to a nature the faculties and powers of which are all in revolt, and we suffer from their lack of co-ordination; they have broken loose from their proper hierarchy, and we have to deal with them, re-organize them, and gradually to tame them; and that is a life work. It never stops. This dislocation of our powers is not due to our personal fault, but is the trouble that befell our nature when the origins of the race went astray and bequeathed to us (as an original pair will almost necessarily bequeath to all their descendants) this tainted inheritance. It is not our fault; but it occasions our faults. It gives us an initial bias to evil, not the same in all, for all are not equally tempted, nor tempted to the same evil, but all are tempted to evil in some form or another. This has to be remembered. Man can be improved, of course; but he is never perfectly secure; he can always fail even after years of conscious rectitude. There is much talk now about the subconscious and its persistence despite the overlaying of consciousness and habits: certainly, here an initial defect survives in us and is always present. Baptism gives us a chance to use adequate means to correct this evil and to strengthen our beginnings of good (for we are certainly not wholly evil); but baptism does not of itself do much more than offer us means to correct ourselves. When it makes us children of God it does not automatically restore to order in us the disordered faculties of the soul. To do this is a lifelong work.

It is the existence of this persistent original ‘flaw’ or ‘fault’ which should make every one of us afraid for ourselves in the matter of purity. No one is ever perfectly secure; no one, even if he has passed by, unscathed, ‘the ambush of young days,’ is in a position to think that he need no longer trouble about purity or the temptations against it. Trouble he must, though there are various ways of troubling, some which merely flurry him and do hurt to his cause, some which really help him in his struggle.

Before coming to these helps or hurts, we should do well to remember that in every case in which we are dealing with the soul the importance of habits should not be overlooked. Habits mean that once we have them, we do without thought or effort things which at the beginning may have been difficult and distasteful. It is habit that helps us now to recite easily the parts of some irregular verb, or the details of our multiplication tables, or the items of our weights and measures, or lists of battles, dates, and kings. We have acquired the habit of remembering them. Habits, however, are not merely in the way of memory, but in the mind, and in the way of act. We not only remember, but think and act, by habit. We can get into a habit of thinking of something or someone, and once we have got into that habit it is difficult to break ourselves of it. It has become a habit, and a habit is difficult to be rid of. We can have the same difficulty through habits of speech, the words we use, some particular word found for ever on our lips, some expletive, a story we delight in telling, some form of humour or topic of conversation. To begin with, of course, we have only instinctive tendencies; these we can develop or restrain.

Or, it may be that it is not mind and speech, but acts that have become habitual. Perhaps we are curious to see the folk about us, to gaze into their faces, and judge them to be good-looking or no. Again, in a quite different fashion, we can pick up tricks with our fingers, a gesture, a particular way of scratching ourselves, playing with a button on our coat, a jingling of the coins in our pocket, or some such hardly conscious movement of our limbs. All these are habits, picked up, deliberately or imitatively reproduced, or drifted into. They are ours.

But habits, however different in the faculties they have possessed, or in their value or encumbrance, are formed inevitably by the same means, by the repetition of acts. We go on doing a thing, or using a thing, or looking for it, or thinking of it, until we have at last formed the habit of acting or thinking or speaking in that particular way. Acts form habits, enough of them in number and time: fewer acts are needed, naturally, where there is already a tendency or bias, more where there is a natural bias or tendency to be overcome.

Another way of putting the same experience of psychology, and a way that sounds rather more ethical or sermonizing, is to say that to indulge a propensity is to strengthen it. This needs no further proof than that which our own character already must have afforded us. We know how natural propensities to games or lessons, or moral good or evil, are strengthened by indulgence: we watch the athlete tending to ignore all but his favourite and successful line of exploit, or the scholar growing more remote and aloof from other lives, the good man developing his goodness, the wayward becoming extravagant in waywardness, his unsteady career taking on a fixed character of deflection.

Of course, we also see instances of the contrary happening, of the scholar taking to politics, or the athlete to poetry, or the good man to evil courses, or the rake to righteousness. But the former habits required less determination to establish, the latter required painful and persistent efforts.

Moreover, there is another matter which soon becomes part of our natural and observed psychology-namely, that whatever is, has its own appropriate action; we learn quickly that everything is a tool or instrument, designed for a purpose and shaped exactly as it is to fulfil that purpose. We see that things have functions, and we realize that they succeed when they are able to function, are free to function, and function well. A man of genius is distressing to know when we see that he has no opportunity to display or use his genius, a ‘mute, inglorious Milton,’ an artist with no chance to use his artistry, a man who stands idle merely because none will employ him. Or, again, we feel ourselves hurt by seeing a microscope in the possession of someone who never uses it, a library inherited by some dull descendant of learning, a horse ‘eating its head off,’ an unfished river ‘infested with fish,’ fruit rotting on the trees or lying on the grass beneath. We find that when we see these unfulfilled capacities, whether we are able quite to sort this out for ourselves or no, we are conscious of something gone awry; and we feel hurt or furious at the lack of use by one of what another would gladly and properly employ.

We can discover, too, another general principle of experience, that in the performing of the fitting function there is always some pleasure and nearly always some drudgery: the two complete the act, and the mere search for the pleasure and the avoiding of the drudgery, undoes the man. The musician who plays what he likes, but forbears to practise, fails in perfection; the writer who amuses, but without careful choice or accuracy of search for words and ideas, the historian who will not take pains, the slipshod linguist who makes no effort properly to master his foreign languages, the athlete who will not train: these seem to us not only-which is obvious-inferior at their particular hobby or department, but inferior as men. It seems that their character must suffer hurt as well as their proficiency, if they take the pleasures of it and not the pains, the fun and not the drudgery.

Now, let us apply these principles to the matter of purity, and we shall see where they lead us. We can begin by taking it for granted that this nature of ours will have a tendency to the evil of impurity, less in some than others, but common in all. We may be simple enough to think that some folk are free of it: but we can be perfectly sure that, even if they are now free of it, they were not always free of it, and equally sure that even now they are not wholly free of it. Man holds the seeds of the tree of evil wherever he goes, till he be cleansed of them by death. Everyone is bothered with the recurrence of this temptation in thought and word and deed: some people have a larger dose of this particular trouble, because of the physical texture of the body, or its ‘humours,’ or the physical development of it, but all suffer from it. It is the common curse of all.

Taking this, then, as the common curse of mankind, it is well to remember that, like every other tendency, it not only can be, but was meant to be, dealt with, and that because of it we have been given in the Kingdom of God remedies that can surely cure its evil. We shall not, on the one hand, as we have said, find that baptism has itself removed the trouble, nor, on the other hand, shall we find that the evil is ever past cure. Our nature is fallen; but Christ came to raise it, and the raising of it that He has made possible is a raising performed through the Sacraments-prayer, etc.-by the conscious and deliberate will of man. It may need severe and drastic treatment; or it may respond to the least effort. But it does need some effort. Indeed, the Kingdom of Heaven can only be duly possessed and appropriated by those who use violence to bear it away.

We must start, however, by recognizing the evil, and proceed by taking steps to deal with the evil: to recognize the evil is perhaps best done by trying to measure how deep a root it has already taken in us, or how it has most seized on us, in what particular form has it appeared in us, or where is its chief virulence, in thought or sight or speech or act? We must begin by a careful and thorough examination of our present trouble and its symptoms, and its apparent roots and causes. This is necessary, for until this is done we cannot properly or effectively deal with the evil.

Ordinarily, we can suppose that thoughts precede acts, and that we have to begin to deal with thoughts; but this is not always the case. Acts, looks, touches, are sometimes not voluntary, or no longer deliberate: habits can make the evil to be no longer consciously done. We may now have a habit which produces evil thoughts, and is not now, at any rate, actually produced by evil thoughts. Hence, it is absolutely necessary that we should have perfectly clear ideas about our own particular trouble (if we have any trouble) in the matter of this virtue. We are so very different, each from each, that the disentanglement of our personal condition is most valuable; indeed, without this knowledge we can hardly tell where to begin.

When, however, we have discovered this, our own particular distress, we have to discover also not only what is wrong, but how that wrong came about; we have to discover the habit, or habits, which grew up and fastened this evil in us. The point to notice is that we began evil, and by habits have become possessed by evil: the value of remembering this is that we can see evil in its proper proportion as a definitely contracted habit. To remember this is to see some daylight. What has been made can be unmade: it is true that, as we have already noted, the weight of nature is to evil, and perhaps of our nature especially to this evil. That makes the habit harder to break; perhaps it might be impossible to break it ever, without the grace of God. But we have always to remember the extra force of the grace of God added to our own will as easily overweighting the pull of tainted nature.

This, at least, is clear. Habits drive out habits, and habits of evil can be broken as well as, though not as easily as, habits of good; but it is only by establishing a new habit that the old one can be removed.

Again, our preliminary principles will have shown us that it is imperfect (and, in dealing with moral obligations, wrong) to use a thing for a purpose other than that for which it was intended. Nature even cries out against such a misdirection of energy, and brings down its own inevitable punishments on such as disregard its laws. Hence, the word ‘unnatural’ is applied to certain forms of impurity where the true function is frustrated, by using to no purpose what was given for a definite purpose.

Again, on the principles we have laid down it is evidently wrong to take the pleasure and deliberately to escape the purpose that justifies the pleasure, to enjoy and then prevent the fulfilment of that towards which the enjoyment is directed. It must produce a weakened character where the drudgery is dodged and the fun alone accepted: this is part, at least, of the justification of the Catholic argument against ‘birth-control,’ though that is not the reason why it is here adduced.

We may presume that sexual tendencies are ordained to matrimony, and that matrimony is necessary for the propagation of the race. We conclude that these inclinations of our nature are part of our very flesh and blood, and are not wrong, but right and, for some, even dutiful. Of themselves they are not sinful, nor are they even an imperfection. Indeed, there may be perfection in the fulfilment of them, and imperfection in the refusal of them. Matrimony, therefore, finds not so much an outlet for them as their proper purpose. We must not conceive of Christ as having designed matrimony as a way in which these feelings may be legitimized, but of these feelings as having in the scheme of Divine Providence been designed to lead to matrimony. We do not, therefore, think of matrimony as having been introduced in order to justify them, but of them as being introduced in order to lead on to matrimony.

Even in matrimony it is possible for either partner to go to excess, for it is always possible for us to exceed in what is lawful. It is possible to eat too much or drink too much (even without intoxication being dreamed of): it is possible, therefore, to give way to excess in matrimonial acts. Hence, as in all else, so in this, the Christian must be governed by right reason. He must beware of over-indulgence to the hurt of his own soul and body and to the hurt of his partner’s soul and body. Their health as well as the health of the children-to-be will be influenced by this. Again, on the way towards the act of marriage itself, much will be allowed to those who are married; for it must not be forgotten that the marriage-act itself is not merely for purposes of procreation, but is the expression of human love, and for that reason also is justified. This is especially evident where age or other circumstances certainly prevent child-bearing, for even there the marriage-act is allowed. It is (when viewed in its own way as the fulfilment of a Divine Command) a just expression of the love between man and woman, though not the only one, for there is also that nobler expression of it-namely, the interchange of life (mind, interests, love, and service) between them.’Then,’ says St Paul, ‘they two shall be one flesh.’ Not as an evil thing, but as something mysteriously beautiful does the Apostle contemplate this great mystery, a Sacrament or sacred thing, the very image of the union between Christ and His Church. St John also saw the Church as ‘a bride adorned for her husband.’ To those whose eyes are pure, this is no condescension of Christ to human weakness, but His spiritual ‘justification of the works of God toman.’

Here let us enter a warning to parents, lest they should miss the beauty of their married life, and rather be ashamed of it, so that they dare not talk to their children of what married life implies. Children have delicate minds, easily bruised and hurt; for that very reason it is better for them to learn what one day they are bound to learn, rather from lips that will speak gravely and with honour, than ribaldry and by way of unclean jest. Knowledge in itself is honourable; this knowledge is necessary; it is also inevitable. It should, then, be imparted to the child as early as possible. No parent can ever guess what his child’s mind has already absorbed: not even by questioning will he ever find out. Its roads to knowledge are as many as are the people it meets: guardians, child-friends, acquaintances, servants, and others chance-met. By the most fortuitous ways is it invited to evil; even by the chance movements of the body and limbs themselves, by a chance posture asleep, by a constrained attitude in bed, by dreams.

Hence, as early as possible, and as its mind becomes capable of understanding each new unfolding of knowledge, the child should be taught how it came into the world. This is to diminish not innocence, but only ignorance. It may even preserve innocence which else will not be preserved. Ignorance is not in the long run a defence of innocence. Ignorance is more often the foe of innocence. It is in ignorance that most ill-habits against the virtue of purity are come by. The record of impurity is a record of souls that have not been taught the truth when they were capable of seeing it as a divinely given thing; it was twisted into a secret of knowledge withheld, instead of being given as an instalment of knowledge of the things of God.

All this is applicable to both sexes, for here we stand on an equality; sex will make very little difference here. What chiefly matters is the capacity of the child to understand. This capacity will differ greatly in the individual. That, and not the difference of sex, is chiefly to be considered in telling them of this matter.

Of course, as the whole of these pages will have shown, all that has been said will have been a constant argument in favour of Catholic education: it is a blessed thing for a child to go where purity is looked upon as a virtue most beloved ofChrist. ‘Blessed are the clean of heart’ must be the finest of the beatitudes, for it has the finest reward, ‘for they shall see God.’ Now, cleanliness of heart is to be learnt, especially in a Catholic school. We say this not because non-Catholic boys and girls cannot be pure-minded, nor because in a Catholic school there is never impurity or unnatural vice; but because in non-Catholic schools there is hardly ever the same public opinion in favour of the beauty of purity as there is in Catholic schools. This is the universal testimony of those who know both. Those parents, therefore, who are contemplating sending their children to non-Catholic schools should realize what are the particular temptations they are compelling their children to face; and they should also realize how very little public feeling in the school will support their children in their fight against impurity. No doubt, a Catholic child should be able to avoid evil because it is evil, independently of public opinion: yet which of us is not conscious that a good public opinion has had a powerful influence, even when we are grown up, in preserving us from evil, or a bad public opinion in finding excuses for us when we have fallen? Is it fair to expose a child to these dangers? Dangers to faith are far less to be feared for a child going to a non-Catholic school than are dangers to purity.

Now, in dealing with the remedies against impurity, let us first take the matter of dangerous occasions of sin. We are told in the Catechism that we are under obligation to avoid these, because by entering into them we make it more likely that we shall fall into sin by them, and since by our neglect in avoiding them we are revealing our own slipshodness in virtue, or our presumption in it. We must, therefore, avoid occasions of sin, and especially so in the pursuit of purity; for purity needs pursuing. It does not come of itself to ‘fallen nature.’ Here, then, we should notice what have been the causes of our sins in the past or the occasions of our sins: whatever they be, these, as far as we can, we must avoid. Experience is a guide to the wise. Our experience can be a guide to our wisdom. We can learn, at least, from our mistakes. And, even if we have not yet fallen into sin, we can still, by the exercise of common sense, guess what things, or places, or people, or practices are likely to provoke us to sin. These, then, if we can, we must avoid. We add deliberately, if we can, for it stands to reason that we cannot avoid all occasions of sin, else we should perhaps have to give up social life altogether. Indeed, even away from society, we should not be wholly safe. We should still have with us ourselves as a seed-plot of temptation. Ourselves we can never escape.

If, however, I find that there are occasions of sin which I cannot avoid, I should at least go down to them prepared: a Sign of the Cross, unobserved by others, as I enter house or room, or go to my meeting, will have some power to remind me that grace is with me, that Our Lord died to save me from myself, and that His presence will go with me in fear and love. It will remind us, since the Cross purchased it for us, that we are ourselves ‘living temples’ of God: and ‘he that profaneth the temple of God, him shall God destroy.’

But, again, in settling which are dangerous occasions, a great deal will depend upon personal temperament, for all are not alike. What inflames one, will leave another cold. Dances, books, pictures, entertainments, signs of affection, imaginings, memories revived, have to be considered by each out of his or her experience and nature. What one can do with impunity, another cannot. What you find dangerous, you must avoid where you can; where you cannot, you must go into it forearmed.

In preserving ourselves from sins and temptations to sin against this virtue, we shall all find the eye to be an ‘unruly member.’ That is to say, it must be ruled. If you are careful of what you let yourself look at, you will better avoid what is probably the most frequent cause of what happens to your hurt. It is not so much what you see as what you look at. Things looked at bite deeply into the imagination and memory. They cut deeply. They are never effaced.

Where, oh where is fancy bred?

Or in the heart, or in the head?

How begot? how nourished?

Reply, reply.

It is engendered in the eyes,

By gazing fed; fancy dies

In the cradle where it lies.

Again, a word is needed as to that impurity which goes by the name of ‘unnatural’ sin, needing to be mentioned especially at this time, because for the moment it has again become fashionable: like in everything else, so in evil, fashions ebb and flow. First, then, it is unmistakable that some people (whether this is to be explained from accidents of childhood or from some other cause) have a preference for their own sex, even in their very early days: this preference is not in itself wrong. It is a mere fact of psychology, world-wide and world-old, known in history to be peculiar to no one race, type, culture, or class. This mere preference, therefore, is not of itself unnatural. But the sin begotten of this preference is unnatural; for we are certainly justified in using the word ‘unnatural’ of an action which is not the unlawful use of natural powers, but the unlawful use of powers which have no natural relation.

Other sins of impurity are usually the ill-regulated use of nature; this is the ill-regulated abuse of nature. That many great men and women have been subject to it should not lessen our abhorrence for it, any more than the fact that great people have been subject to other evil causes (such as lying, meanness, ingratitude, selfishness, or hypocrisy) would lessen our distaste for these ills, either.

What is the remedy for all these things? It will be remembered that when the Apostles learnt from Our Lord His more severe marriage law which, as against the milder law of Moses, thenceforth wholly banned divorce, they were aghast at His hardness. ‘It were better,’ said they, ‘never to marry,’ than to marry and have to observe such self-control. His answer was to agree, yet to insist that it was possible for a man to keep himself chaste ‘for the sake of the Kingdom.’ ‘For the sake of the Kingdom,’ then, men can observe the law of Christ-not as though Our Lord was urging them to remember the reward of Heaven as a sufficient motive for chaste lives. Rather He was bidding them come now at once into His Kingdom, ‘the Kingdom of Heaven’ already here begun. What He is urging is that, since His Kingdom is one of love, if men will come into it they will be led to love God, and this love of God will keep men true to God and be the fulfilling of the law. Men should fulfil the law of God ‘on earth as it is done in Heaven.’ The law is observed in Heaven lovingly because the beauty of God is made visible, and, out of love for that beauty made visible, men obey it absolutely. Here on earth also this law has to be observed lovingly, even though the beauty of God be seen only in a mirror, as it were darkly. The beauty of God here is not visible, but believed in; especially will it be believed in by the clean of heart more strongly than by their fellows, for it is their blessedness in some exceptional way to see God.

Let us here add by way of parenthesis that the social evil of prostitution is not to be accepted as inevitable for all men. It may be true that it will always exist; this does not mean that we are to take it for granted:

Their sin is all our sin, ours is their shame,

And while a single woman earns her bread

By blasphemy committed in love’s name,

Not only she, but all our world is dead.

The remedy of impurity is, therefore, a strong personal love of Our Lord, developed especially through Mass, Holy Communion, and a daily visit to the Blessed Sacrament, for love must be driven out by love. We can only drive out foul-love by fair-love. We must have some centre for our love: let it be Christ.

Folk easily tempted are usually affectionate and sometimes lonely people: to save themselves from sin they should not try to suppress their nature, but give it its true object, not others or self primarily, but God. Let them make Our Blessed Lord a third in all their friendships, let Him be the principal friend they have. Let them talk to Him in the Blessed Sacrament, let them worship His generosity in the Sacrifice of the Mass, let Him come to them in Holy Communion, walking on their unstable affections, rebuking the fury of the winds of passion and giving them a great calm. It is undoubted that we get less help from the negative policy of merely repelling temptations, than from the positive policy of turning directly towards whatsoever things are noble, comely, and excellent. Fear even may move us for a time, but this direct love of Christ alone will hold the soul to the end. Thus we can almost reverse the beatitude of purity, and say: ‘Blessed are those who see God in His beauty, for they shall be clean of heart.’

It is, then, obvious that to secure for ourselves the fullness of the virtue of purity we need, indeed, the grace of God. Man of himself tends more often to its opposite: he has the weight of his body against him in his efforts to aim high. He has perhaps added to his evil nature the further weight of an evil habit, in thought, word, or deed. He must break from this, use every means in his power to break from it, and deal sternly and drastically with himself. Thus, he may have at night to shift his position, or leave the warmth of his bed, or distract his thoughts, or in the daylight rigorously keep his eyes under constant control.

The long hours of anguish that some must endure in defence of this virtue are a tribute, not to their misery, but to their courage. To give in is to escape further temptation for the time, perhaps; to refuse to give in is to pile up a series of temptations. Yet refuse we must. Still, it is not in refusing, but in substituting that we find our final remedy, sublimating, putting Christ for man. O wondrous barter that sets Him as the centre of our affections in the place of other loves, and then brings them in again to be reconsidered in the new light of His blessed presence. Under the glow of His comeliness and the light of His love, they are now made more dear.

‘Give me, O Lord God, an ever-watchful heart which no subtle speculation may ever lure from Thee. Give me a noble heart that no unworthy affection shall ever draw downwards to earth. Give me a heart of honesty that no insincerity shall warp. Give me a heart of courage that no distress shall ever crush or quench. Give me a heart so free that no perverted or impetuous affection shall ever claim it for its own.’

(Daily prayer of St Thomas Aquinas)

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Rays of Catholic Truth

INDEX

GOD HAVING CREATED MAN, THE MASTERPIECE OF HIS OMNIPOTENCE, PLACED HIM IN PARADISE (GEN. II, 8) IN THE STATE OF ORIGINAL JUSTICE, WHICH HE FORFEITED BY HIS FALL FOR HIMSELF AND HIS POSTERITY. HENCE WE FIND OURSELVES INHERITING FROM OUR FIRST PARENTS, ADAM AND EVE, THIS FALLEN STATE-THE LOSS OF ORIGINAL SANCTITY AND RIGHTEOUSNESS, THE LOSS OF GOD’S FRIENDSHIP AND SONSHIP, AND EVEN HEAVEN ITSELF.”WHEREFORE AS BY ONE MAN SIN ENTERED THE WORLD, AND BY SIN DEATH; AND SO DEATH PASSED UPON ALL MEN IN WHOM ALL HAVE SINNED” (ROM. V. 12).

Man was thereby impaired in soul and body, by nature spiritually dead, fallen off and separated from God, and no longer capable of attaining his high and supernatural end. God saw His generous and gracious designs frustrated and could no longer look down with complacency upon degraded man. Nevertheless, the special love of God for man sought him out even when he was fleeing from Him. God promised man a Redeemer, who, when He came, over four thousand years after the creation, accepted the conditions, save sin, which man had incurred.”And the Word was made flesh and dwelt among us” (John i. 14).

REDEMPTION

Redemption literally means a buying back of something that has been forfeited; a liberation from captivity, or from the bondage of sin and its penalties. Thus Jesus Christ, by His Passion and Death, bought us back from sin and Satan; freed us from eternal damnation, reconciled us to God, and reopened heaven for us. He merited abundant grace to enable us to lead a holy life and obtain eternal happiness in heaven.

Consequently, by the Redemption, with its infinite satisfaction, God has given man a chance-we should call it a second chance after he had miserably failed in the first-of working out his salvation and attaining his supernatural end, through the merits of Jesus Christ the Redeemer joined to the performance of such duties of acknowledgement and services as God Himself has, from time to time, clearly ordained and established.

REDEMPTION NOT EQUIVALENT TO SALVATION

Though Christ redeemed the whole human race by His death upon the Cross, nevertheless redemption is not equivalent to salvation. Redemption is an entirely free act on the part of God, but salvation, although wholly God’s work, requires man’s free co-operation as a necessary condition. Christ indeed made full satisfaction for all the sins of mankind, and merited eternal salvation for the whole human race. But even this will not save us without co-operation on our part. Hence St. Augustine says so aptly:”God, Who created us without our co-operation, will not save us without our co-operation.”

Christ made full atonement for our sins, but He has also imposed upon us the obligation of co-operating with Him by applying that atonement to our souls, through the channels He Himself established for that purpose; the principal and normal channels are the Mass and the Sacraments. Hence, the fact that Christ redeemed all men means simply this: that it is possible for all men to be saved. But even God cannot save a man against his free will. Even God cannot save a man unless he is willing to be saved and, further, is ready to show that will by doing all that Christ and His Church command.

THE CONDITIONS OF CO-OPERATION

As said before, Christ merited eternal salvation for all men without exception as He died for all without exception. “Jesus Christ who gave Himself a redemption for all” (1 Tim. ii. 6). And yet men are not all saved because they do not, on their part, fulfil the conditions imposed by Christ Himself-that is, they do not believe, keep the commandments and use the means of grace. These are the duties of acknowledgement and service imposed by God-these are the conditions of co-operation imposed upon all who profess to believe in Christ, and desire to partake in His merits.

Briefly stated, the Creed teaches us what we must believe.”Without faith it is impossible to please God” (Hebr. xi. 6);”He that believeth not shall be condemned” (Mark xvi. 16); “He that doth not believe is already judged” (John iii. 18). The commandments teach us what we must do.”Faith without works is dead” (James ii. 20). The commandments are the outward and practical expression of faith. We must not only believe, we must keep the commandments. We must have both faith and the works of faith. It was Christ Himself Who said:”If you love me, keep My commandments” (John xiv. 15); and again: “If thou wilt enter into life, keep the commandments” (Matt. xix. 17). The commandments, then, no less than faith, are a condition necessary to eternal salvation.”So faith also, if it have not works, is dead in itself” (James ii. 17).

Finally, we must use the means of grace instituted by Christ, for grace is absolutely necessary to salvation. “Without Me you can do nothing” (John xv. 5). Without the grace of God we can neither believe nor keep the com- mandments. It is grace that enlightens our understanding and moves our will to believe.”For by grace you are saved through faith and that not of yourselves; for it is the gift of God” (Eph. ii 8). Neither can we keep the commandments by our own natural strength, unaided by the grace of God. Grace is just so necessary that without it we can neither begin nor carry out the least thing towards eternal salvation.”For it is God who worketh in you, both to will and to accomplish” (Phil. ii. 13).

Briefly summarized, it is the doctrine of the Church that, in order to secure eternal salvation, man needs the grace of God to begin, to continue, and to complete the work of his sanctification. But man on his part must co-operate with the grace of God. Thus good works and eternal salvation proceed from the union of two elements: the interior, supernatural grace of God, and the free will of man. Whoever overrates either at the expense of the other falls into heresy.

WHAT IS GRACE?

No mere natural act of man can gain for him eternal salvation. Being a supernatural good, the natural powers of man require supernatural help in order to obtain it” This supernatural help is grace. By grace alone we enter into communication with Jesus Christ and partake in His infinite merits which are the source of everything conducive to salvation.

Grace, then, is a. free and supernatural gift superadded to the natural gifts of man through the merits of the Redeemer, Jesus Christ. It is that strength which God indiscriminately bestows upon man enabling him to live a good life, to shun sin and practise virtue. As God desires all men to be saved, so does He grant His grace to everyone-even a pagan, who does all that lies in his power to come to the knowledge of truth.”God will have all men to be saved and come to the knowledge of truth” (1 Tim, ii. 4).

KINDS OF GRACE

According to its action in the soul, there are two kinds of grace: first, the grace of assistance, also called actual or transient grace; second, sanctifying grace, or justification,

Actual grace acts transiently upon the soul. It is that supernatural help that prompts us to do right and shun wrong, and, because it comes to us only when we need its help to perform a good action or avoid an evil one, it is called transient grace, or passing inspiration.”Today if you shall hear His voice, harden not your heart” (Ps. xciv. 8).

Sanctifying grace is an abiding, supernatural gift which adorns the soul and makes it holy and just in the sight of God. It is bestowed upon the soul in baptism, remains habitually in the soul, and is lost only by mortal sin.

“Sanctifying grace is also called”justification,” or “Divine adoption,” because by it we are justified and made not only the”friends of God” (John xv. 14), but also His beloved children. By it we are made “partakers of the Divine nature” (2 Peter i. 4), that is, raised to a supernatural state. “Behold what manner of charity the Father hath bestowed upon us that we should be called and should be the sons of God” (1 John iii, 1). And St. Paul says: “We are the sons of God; and if sons, heirs also; heirs indeed of God, and joint heirs with Christ” (Rom. viii. 16, 17). True, we are mere creatures, and cannot be God’s children by nature, but by grace we share in some way the Divine nature, and so become His adopted children.

Through sanctifying grace we are”born again” God’s children, and our soul receives supernatural life and powers, together with the infused virtues of faith, hope and charity. For this reason, a Christian child with grace can make an act of supernatural faith in the truths of Divine revelation, that even the wisest pagan philosopher, by his own unaided natural powers, cannot do.

Sanctifying grace makes man a child of God; actual grace urges him to live as such. It is actual grace that enlightens his mind and moves his will to serve and worship God, to live a good life, avoid sin and practise virtue; and if he has lost sanctifying grace by mortal sin, it is actual grace which urges him to repent and make a good confession, and hereby recover his lost treasure.* For the sinner cannot rise from his fallen state unless God come to his assistance by giving him actual grace to repent and confess his sins.

Divine Adoption Entirely Gratuitous.

Sanctifying grace or Divine adoption is an entirely free gift flowing from the mercy and love of God, and cannot be merited by any human or natural act. It is given to man, not on account of his own or any human merit, but purely through the merits of the Redeemer, Jesus Christ. Nevertheless, there are certain conditions or dispositions of soul necessary thereto, except in the case of infant baptism. For as man can do absolutely nothing towards eternal salvation without grace, so neither can grace operate in him against his free will. So that even God cannot save a man unless he wills to be saved.

GRACE FORCES NO MAN

Man is a free agent and can choose good or evil, can co-operate with grace or reject it for grace forces no man. Free will is the noblest natural gift of God to man; and yet no other gift is so much abused. But while man has the power of choosing evil, he has not the right to do so, for God has given him free will to be for him a source of merit in choosing good. Neither has God left him ignorant of what is good, but has established just laws for his guidance, so that by subjecting his will to these he may perfect himself and attain the end for which he was created. Moreover, God has engraven His own law on the human heart so that even those who never heard the sound of the Gospel, know what is right and what is wrong by the voice of conscience. St. Paul says that the commandments were written in the hearts of men and that conscience made them known; for the Gentiles”show the work of the law written in their hearts, their conscience bearing witness to them” (Rom. ii. 15).

Jesus Christ Himself chose and established the means whereby His Divine grace-His atonement and merits- should be applied to our souls: namely, the priesthood, the Sacrifice of the Mass and the seven sacraments. These are, as it were, the official channels by which the Son of God gives us His saving doctrine, and applies His atoning merits to our souls.

To the Catholic priesthood is confided the whole”deposit of faith,” the saving doctrines of truth and salvation, and theirs the sacred trust to preserve it pure and incorrupt, just as it was entrusted to them by Christ and His Apostles; theirs also the sublime mission to teach it and preach it with Divine authority. Likewise, in the adminstration of the sacraments they speak in Christ’s name and act in His stead; and it is by their ministry that He offers Himself on the altar.

SACRIFICE-ITS MEANING AND UNIVERSALITY

According to psychology, according to history, and according to Scripture, sacrifice is the highest act of worship that can be offered to Almighty God.

Sacrifice is a visible gift offered to God, as a victim, by a duly authorized person, with its complete or partial destruction, in public acknowledgement of God’s supreme dominion over us and all creatures; and of the honour and glory which, as creatures, we owe to Him, the Almighty Creator and Master of life and death.

Sacrifice is of Divine institution and is as old as the human race. Taught by our first parents, Cain and Abel offered sacrifice to God (Gen. iv. 3, 5); so did Noe and his family on coming out of the ark (Gen. viii. 20); so did all the Patriarchs; so did the children of Israel in the wilderness and in the promised land.”We will sacrifice to the Lord as He hath commanded us” (Exod. viii. 27). All nations and people from the beginning (Gen. iv.), Mohammedans, Protestants and pure Buddhists alone excepted, have offered sacrifice, and made it their highest and most solemn act of external worship.

*If confession is impossible, an act of perfect contrition will always restore a sinner to the state of grace.

KINDS OF SACRIFICE

Under the Patriarchal dispensation and under the Mosaic law, we find numerous sacrifices established by God’s command, or with His approval. Some were bloody, others unbloody. Some were called holocausts, or whole-burnt offerings, in which the victim, after being slain, was entirely consumed by fire upon God’s altar, for His honour and glory.

There were sacrifices of praise and thanksgiving to God for all His benefits; sacrifices of propitiation to implore His forgiveness for the sins of people; and sacrifice of supplication to ask His blessing and protection. For example, sacrifices of praise were offered daily in the Temple; Noe’s sacrifice was of thanksgiving; those which Judas Machabeus had offered before going to battle were supplicatory; those offered for his warriors who fell in battle were propitiatory and expiatory (2 Mach. xii. 43).*

OBJECTS USED IN SACRIFICE

Animals such as oxen, sheep, goats and turtle doves, as well as incense and the fruits of the earth, were among the objects of Jewish sacrifice. Oil and wine were also offered, the wine being poured out as a libation upon the altar or before it.

Historically, we find sacrifice existing, not only among the Jews, who worshipped the true God, but also among pagan and idolatrous nations, for even the very heathen in their darkest hour never lost the idea of sacrifice. But their knowledge of God and religion was so confused and perverted that they offered sacrifice not to the true God, but to idols of wood and stone, to animals, to the sun, moon and stars, and other objects.

Sad to say, even human sacrifices were offered by many ancient peoples-the Phoenicians, Egyptians, Greeks and other pagan nations. No people on earth offered more human sacrifices than the natives of America. The Mexicans, we are told, offered not less than twenty human victims every year, and when they had no captives for this purpose they did not spare even their own children.

But even the mistaken offerings and superstitions of the heathen bear witness to man’s universal consciousness of sin and guilt, and to the natural, instinctive craving of the human heart to offer sacrifice and atonement to the Almighty Creator and Master of life and death.

ANCIENT SACRIFICES ABOLISHED

The sacrifices of the Old Law were only types and figures of the great Sacrifice the Redeemer was to offer on the Cross. They could not take away sin, nor open the gates of heaven, for only God, Who was offered, could take away the sins of mankind. These sacrifices were acceptable to God and useful to man only by faith in the Redeemer to come and through the infinite merits of His supreme sacrifice on Calvary. Being only types and figures of the spotless Sacrifice of the New Law, they ceased with the passing of the Old Law; and, as an historical fact, they were never offered after the destruction of the temple of Jerusalem.

Nor were the sacrifices of the heathen anything more or less than a seeking after the true sacrifice of atonement. Moreover, a universal persuasion seemed to prevail that”it is impossible that with the blood of oxen and goats sin should be taken away” (Heb. x. 4), or that the Deity could be propitiated by other similar victims. A victim of infinite value was needed to reconcile man with God.

THE SACRIFICE OF INFINITE VALUE

We hold, according to the teaching of the Catholic Church, that this victim of infinite value-this one great and allsufficient sacrifice for man’s redemption-was the immolation of Our Lord Jesus Christ on Calvary. He was the Godman. On the Cross, He prayed, suffered and died as man for man, but He had the intercessory power of God with God. ( Jesus Christ, because He is God, because He is almighty, could have accomplished man’s redemption in various ways. He could have redeemed us by a word, a wish, or a sigh-by any single act of His sacred humanity, for His every act was of infinite value. But He chose to do it by His bitter Passion and ignominious Death on the Cross, to *The Sacrifice of the Mass fulfils all these ends. It is the most perfect sacrifice of praise and thanksgiving, of propitiation and supplication. prove to man the enormity of sin, the hatred God bears to it, and the excess of God’s love for man.)

By this one, supreme, bloody oblation on the altar of the Cross, we were completely redeemed, our ransom was paid, and all mercy, grace and salvation were purchased for us. Neither can there be any need of Christ dying now any more, or purchasing any other graces for us than those for which He has already paid the price in His Precious Blood.

After His resurrection and ascension into heaven, where, “always living to make intercession for us” (Hebr. vii. 25),

He became our invisible High Priest, our perpetual Mediator, continually presenting His glorious Wounds before His Father on our behalf. On this bloodless Calvary He obtains the application to our souls of what He merited for us on Golgotha.

Nevertheless, visible sacrifice, such as the nature of man requires, had been always and everywhere the law of the children of Adam, and Jesus Christ came”not to destroy the law, but to fulfil it, till heaven and earth pass away” (Matt. v. 17, 18). He came not to abolish the duty of sacrifice, but to perfect it. He abrogated the sacrifices of old, in themselves imperfect and mere types, .only to institute and substitute in their stead a perfect one, the glorious Sacrifice of the Mass.

Four hundred years before Christ, the Prophet Malachy had clearly foretold that the sacrifices of the Old Law would be replaced by a clean oblation that would continue from the rising of the sun to the going down ther eof, everywhere and always (Mal. i. 10, 11). Christ had determined, even before Calvary, that this should be so; He had determined to make Calvary our lasting and endless sacrifice, and to this end He gave us the Mass as a means by which He renews and continues, even upon earth in an unbloody manner, the prayer and sacrifice of Calvary; not indeed by way of a new redemption, for”Christ dieth now no more, death shall no more have dominion over Him” (Rom. vi. 9), but as a means by which the merits of the Cross are applied to our souls.

THE MASS PERPETUATES THE SACRIFICE OF CALVARY

The Mass is as old as Christianity. Jesus Christ Himself celebrated the first Mass at the Last Supper, the night before His bloody immolation on the Cross. We find accounts of this in the Bible (Matt. xxvi. 26–28; Mark xiv. 22–24; Luke xxii. 19–20; 1 Cor. xi 23–25). From these accounts we learn that at the Last Supper Christ instituted the Holy Eucharist, the Mass and the priesthood. He instituted the Holy Eucharist not only as a sacrament for the food and nourishment of our souls, but also as a sacrifice, the Eucharistic Sacrifice of the Mass, to be offered to God the Father by way of perpetual memorial of His Death on the Cross.”As often as you shall eat this bread and drink this chalice, you shall show the Death of the Lord, until He come” (I Cor. xi. 26).

By the same Divine power by which He changed water into wine at Cana (John ii. 1–10) He changed bread and wine into His Body and Blood and offered up in a mysterious manner, and by anticipation, the saving sacrifice of Salvation. Then He commanded His Apostles to do what He had done-namely, to offer to God His Body and Blood under the forms of bread and wine, saying:”Do this for a commemoration of Me” (Luke xxii. 19). The Apostles, the best interpreters of Christ’s meaning, understood these words as a Divine command empowering them to change bread and wine into the Body and Blood of Christ, and offer it to God as a sacrifice-the Mass.

The bloody sacrifice whereby man was redeemed could not be repeated (Heb. x. 14), but the Catholic Church teaches that the Mass is essentially the same sacrifice as that of Calvary, because its priest is the Priest of Calvary; its victim is the Victim of Calvary; and the separate consecration of the bread and wine is a mystical representation of the blood-shedding of Calvary. Moreover, the end for which it is offered is to carry on the work of Calvary, by applying daily, upon the altars of the world, the infinite merits of Jesus Christ to the souls of men. The priest who offers the Mass is only the minister and visible representative of Jesus Christ, the Eternal High Priest. The priest acts in Christ’s person and speaks in His name. For this reason, the Mass is not a new nor yet another sacrifice, but a perpetuation-a continuation of the bloody Sacrifice of Calvary applied in an unbloody manner to the needs of individual souls.

By virtue of this essential sameness, the Sacrifice of the Mass completely answers all the different ends of sacrifice, and that in a way infinitely more effective than any of the ancient sacrifices. The sacrifices of Abel, of Abraham and of Melchisedech were of no value whatever, except by faith in the Redeemer to come, and through the infinite merits of His Sacrifice on Calvary. They were mere creature-offerings, but the Mass no human imperfection has power to tarnish. It alone is worthy of the infinite Majesty of God.

PURPOSE OF THE MASS

It is important always to remember that the Mass is a sacrifice, that is, an act by which the Church renders officially to God, in the name of all men, a supreme worship of adoration. The offering which the priest makes to God is none other than Jesus Christ Himself, Who by His Sacrifice on the Cross paid to the Father an infinite worship of adoration, of praise, of propitiation for sin, and of supplication. Thus the Mass, by placing on the altar the Victim of Calvary, enables us to adore God adequately; to thank Him worthily for all His blessings; to appease Him fully by offering the Blood of Christ; to address to Him supplications which are always granted, in accordance with God’s designs, because they are made in the name of Him Who, displaying His glorious Wounds before His Father, unceasingly pleads for us in heaven.

The Mass is the official and public act of worship of the Catholic Church. It is the sacrifice of the entire Catholic Church. There is no such thing as a private Mass belonging exclusively to the priest. The act is public and official whether it be offered in St. Peter’s Rome, or in some African jungle, or frozen Siberian waste. It is public, because it is offered by the Church, the Mystical Body of Christ whose authorized representative the priest is.

The Mass is the sacrifice of Calvary made perpetual. It is Calvary brought down the centuries, to all peoples and nations, to all times and places, to every hamlet and village throughout the world. On 350,000 altars daily this”clean oblation” is offered up, literally “from the rising of the sun to the going down thereof,” everywhere and always, without interruption, as the prophet of the Old Law had foretold (Mal. i. 10). Just think! Not a moment of the day or night when Mass is not being offered in some part of the world! It would indeed be tragic for us and for all the world if that Sacrifice should ever cease. We need that Sacrifice now, just as much as did the men of Christ’s time. His supreme Sacrifice must still influence the earth; must rise in praise and thanksgiving to God the Father; must drop down its soothing alleviation on purgatory; must save sinners and sanctify saintsl

FRUITS OF THE MASS

On the Cross, Christ purchased our ransom, and in the Eucharistic Sacrifice of the Mass the price of that ransom is applied to our souls. The sacrifice of Calvary is the fountain-head, that of the altar is the channel of the graces of Redemption to mankind.

The Mass is of infinite value, on account of the infinite dignity of Christ, who offers Himself in sacrifice; but the graces and favours conferred by it are limited, partly by the will of God in instituting it, and partly by the disposition of those who participate in its fruits. The merits and fruits of the Mass are indeed infinite, but the capacity of man to receive is finite. Hence, the application to the individual is limited by his capacity to receive-limited also by the Will of God, Who would have us come again and again, yes, daily to this salutary and inexhaustible fountain of grace and sanctification.

“Whether one or thousands eat,

All receive the self-same meat,

Nor less for others leave.”

-Hymn for Corpus Christi.

The General fruits of the Mass benefit the whole Church on earth and in purgatory, for it is offered for all, both the living and the dead. The special fruits are applied: first, to the priest who offers it; secondly, to those for whom he offers it; thirdly, to those who assist at it; fourthly, to those for whom the faithful present pray and offer the Sacrifice, in union with the priest.

ALTAR VERSUS PULPIT

Since the time of Christ, the centre of all Catholic worship has always been the sacrifice of Calvary continued on the altar. This has always been the pre-eminent source of grace and sanctification. In the days of the Apostles (Acts ii. 42–46) the”breaking of bread,” that is, the Mass, was the recognized standard by which the Christians were known, just as Catholics are known today because they go to Mass.

The Catholic Church is eminently a place of sacrifice. There is no church without an altar. Altars have always been used for sacrifice. The highest form of worship is sacrifice, and the highest act of sacrifice is the Mass. Everything in the Catholic Church centres about the altar and the Sacrifice of the Mass. It is because of the Mass that we have the priesthood, and through the Mass that we have the Holy Eucharist. Hence the altar takes a more prominent place in the Catholic Church than the public; and Catholics rightly look upon attendance at Mass as of greater value than hearing a sermon. A sermon is the interpretation of the Word of God, but the Mass is the sacrifice of God Himself. It is the renewal of the sacrifice of Calvary. In it Jesus Christ offers Himself in an unbloody manner, through the hands of the priest, as He once did in a bloody manner on the altar of the Cross.

Our churches are built for the altar and the Sacrifices of the Mass. They are built as a habitation for the sacramental Christ, really and truly present on the altar-even as God Himself directed Moses to build a sanctuary where He could dwell among His people (Lev. xxvi. 12). They are not, primarily, for the accommodation of the worshippers, nor even as places of prayer and praise. They are intended first of all to be the”tabernacle of God with men”-a dwelling place for Our Lord Jesus Christ under the sacramental veils.

Our Lord instituted the Holy Eucharist for these three great ends:

1. To be our perpetual Eucharistic Sacrifice, the Mass.

2. To be the food and nourishment of our souls in Holy Communion.

3. To remain with us always as God and man, to console and strengthen us by real and abiding Presence on our altars.”My delights were to be with the children of men” (Prov. viii. 31).

It is His real abiding Presence that makes our churches holy, so that even a chance visitor must feel the hallowed atmosphere that pervades the sacred place-must experience a feeling of awe and reverence in His holy Presence.

Other religions may have beautiful edifices, but they are only places of prayer, of preaching, or assembly. They have no altar in the real sense of the word. The have no sacrifice, no Mass, for all Protestants distinctly repudiate sacrifice. Catholics go to church to be present at the sacrifice of Calvary; they may or may not hear a sermon, join in a service of song or common prayer. With Catholics, it is the Mass that matters! Take away the Mass and you take away the very heart and soul, the very spirit and life of the Catholic Church. The so-called reformers of the sixteenth century, most of whom were faithless priests, realized this full well, and struck their first rabid blows at the Mass and the Priesthood. They pulled down the altars and declared the Mass idolatry. With the Mass went the priesthood and the Holy Eucharist. Sacrificing priests, that is”Mass-priests,” had no place in their new religion.

The Mass is the great and obligatory act of worship of a Catholic. It is an act of sacrifice, and all join in it who are present with right intention and proper conduct. (Reverential presence constitutes worship and is sufficient.) They may not be able to hear the words of the Mass; they may not understand them, but God, to Whom they are addressed, hears and understands. They must bear in mind that the Mass is a sacrifice-not a prayer-meeting-and sacrifice is the soul of religion.

But devout Catholics are not content with mere reverential presence. They will speak their hearts to Him Who is being mystically crucified for them anew. By their intention and prayers they make with the priest a joint offering of this great act of worship. They unite their intentions with those of the priest who is their representative before God in this sacred act. The saintly Pius X, the Pope of the Eucharist, urged all the faithful to”pray the Mass,” that is, to pray the same prayers the priest does at the altar, and offer the Mass to God with him and by his hands. The best way to do this is by the use of a missal, which contains the Latin Mass prayers as well as their translation, arranged in parallel columns.

MASS IN THE EVENING

In the early days of Christianity, the Eucharistic service took place in the evening, after the example of Our Lord at the Last Supper. With it was connected the agape or love-feast, which was celebrated by chanting hymns, by prayer, and the kiss of peace. Owing to the abuses to which they gave rise, even in the days of the Apostles (1 Cor. xi. 21), these feasts were separated from the Lord’s Supper, and later were abolished entirely.

It was not long before the celebration of Mass was held in the morning, which gave rise to the Eucharistic fast. According to present day discipline, it is celebrated in the morning, and evening, and the celebrant must be fasting. There are, however, some exceptions to these regulations.

MASS IN PRIVATE HOUSES

In very early times it was permitted to offer the Holy Sacrifice in private houses. The Acts thus describe the manner of worship followed by the first Christian congregations”Continuing daily with one accord in the Temple, the “breaking bread” (that is, Holy Mass and Communion) from house to house, they took their meat with gladness and simplicity of heart” (Acts ii. 46). The Apostles and their first successors offered the Holy Sacrifice in simple rooms or large halls of private houses. Many of their wealthy converts were happy to open their homes to the small congregations of early Christians. As in the course of time some abuses attended this custom, the Church forbade the celebration of Mass in private houses.

However, in mission countries, even at the present day, in new and sparsely settled districts, where the few Catholics are still unable to build churches, the devoted missionary priest, like his predecessors of the first centuries, is often glad to find a chance to offer the Holy Sacrifice and teach the catechism in the humble home of a devout peasant. But as the Catholics increase in number and means permit, the little church with its permanent altar soon takes the place of the poor man’s cottage.

THE PRAYERS OF THE MASS

The present Mass prayers originated in primitive Christianity; and the Canon (the most solemn part of the rite) except for non-essential additions is entirely of Apostolic origin. The Mass prayers breathe the simple sweetness of the Word of God, and of the early Fathers who prayed with hearts full of love for Jesus Christ. No non-Catholic can read them once and not perceive their wonderful beauty and devotion. A study of them has, indeed, made more than one earnest soul realize how false was the spirit of the Reformation that could brand them as blasphemous and idolatrous.

All that is most devotional and inspiring in the Anglican service has been taken from the Roman liturgy; and most of the beautiful prayers of their prayer-book, so much admired and loved by non-Catholics, are merely translations of the old Catholic prayers.

THE CEREMONIES OF THE MASS

The ceremonies of the Mass have all been handed down to us from the most ancient times, many from the time of the Apostles themselves. Their sublime and mysterious meaning is intended to fill our hearts with reverence and devotion. In them we discover a gradual and even more glorious development and advancement; for the Kingdom of God, like the mustard seed of the Gospel, must grow and spread.

The manner of performing the Divine service in the days of the Apostles is described by St. Luke in the Acts of the Apostles, and by St. Paul in his Epistles. The life and soul of the service was the commemoration of the Last Supper, the holy Sacrifice of the Mass. It was accompanied with common prayer, readings from Holy Scripture, chanting of psalms, and a collection made for the poor. The Eucharist, or Mass proper, began with the selection from the offerings brought by the people of the bread and wine for the sacrifice. There were as yet no fixed prayers for this part of the service, the celebrant”giving thanks” in the words chosen by himself. The consecration consisted of a prayer in memory of Our Lord’s Passion and the words of transubstantiation as we have them in the Mass today. But in the course of the first few centuries it became gradually fixed by the decrees of bishops, popes and councils. Even as early as the time of Constantine the Great, about 325, the prayers and ceremonies of the Mass were much the same, and appointed in the same order, as we have them today.

The passing centuries have brought changes in the ceremonies of the Mass and the people no longer bring the bread and wine used in the Sacrifice as once they did. But the Mass itself is just the same. It is the sacrifice of the Supper Room and Calvary, and the congregation still, as of old, has a share in the offering of it.

A CONSOLING ASSURANCE

What a consolation for us to know that our holy Sacrifice of the Mass was in all ages of Christianity, just as it is in our own, offered up for both the living and the dead! It is a consolation and an assurance to know that not only the essential part of this holy Sacrifice has remained without change since the very hour of the Last Supper, but even its outward symbols and ceremonies as we have them today, were strictly and permanently established during the earliest ages of the Church.

What feelings of reverence fill our souls when we remember that the same holy Sacrifice of the Mass at which we assist today has been solemnized during almost two thousand years, in precisely the same way by our ancestors in the Faith!

We learn from the writings of the earliest Church Fathers, as well as from ancient relics, from original inscriptions and from images found in the catacombs, that even in those times the belief in the Real Presence of Christ in the Holy Eucharist was held and taught and reduced to practice, even as in our own day; and our souls overflow with gratitude to Jesus Christ for having permitted us to be members of that Mystical Body, the Church, in which He has lived, in which He still lives, and in which He shall continue to live forever!

WHY USE LATIN?

Latin is the official language of the Catholic Church. It is not a foreign language, but the changeless and universal language of the changeless and universal Church. A changeless tongue is a fitting form for changeless truth. It makes the Catholic Church really international as opposed to the merely national or provincial churches of Protestant sects. It proclaims the unity and universality of Catholic doctrine. It typifies the unity of the Catholic Church and helps to preserve it. It enables both clergy and laity to feel at home in any Catholic Church in any part of the world. It enables any priest, American, African, European or Asiatic, to officiate in any foreign land, regardless of language, habits and customs of such peoples; and it guarantees to the laity that no matter how foreign the congregation, the Holy Sacrifice shall be familiar to us all over the world. It enables the Catholic Hierarchy to communicate freely with each other and with the See of Rome, and to discuss matters of discipline and dogma in their general councils. Even medical men and scientists have wished and hoped for a common medium of communication at their international congresses. The Church has it!

By the use of Latin in her liturgy, in her decrees and definitions, the Church preserves unity of faith and uniformity of practice throughout the world. Another advantage of using a so-called”dead” language, such as Latin, is that the words do not change their meanings, as constantly happens in modern languages. Latin thus preserves the dignity of the liturgy, and the exactness of dogmatic decrees and definitions of councils, so necessary in a changeless and universal Church.

NOTE: Out of respect for very ancient usage, the “Uniate” Churches of the East retain the rite and language established by ancient custom. Therefore, at present, Mass is offered in a number of languages, as Greek, Coptic, Armenian, Syriac, old Slavonic, and a few others. But these languages have nearly all gone out of daily use, and are not subject to the changes of modern languages.

AN OBJECTION ANSWERED

The objection made by some Protestants to our use of Latin is not well founded. Indeed there is no reason for criticism, for it must be remembered that all announcements, sermons, instructions, public prayers or hymns-all services we have in common with those of our separated brethren-are in the language used by the people. It is only when the priest converses directly with God in the Sacrifice of the Mass that he uses the unchangeable Latin, type of purity and perpetuity. Besides, the Mass is an action rather than a prayer-a sublime sacrifice which the priest, in the name of Christ, offers to God for the people. The prayers he uses are addressed directly to God and are not sermons intended for the people. It may be added that missals for the laity contain the Latin, with translation and explanations of the Mass and other public services, so that the faithful can follow the actions and prayers of the priest and are earnestly exhorted to do so.

WHY USE VESTMENTS?

In the Old Law, God Himself minutely appointed the vestments for the priests, and commanded:”Aaron and his sons shall use them when they approach the altar to minister in the sanctuary, lest being guilty of iniquity they die” (Exod. xxviii, 43). As in the New Law the Sacrifice of the Mass is the highest and most solemn act of worship, the Church has appointed particular vestments to be worn by the priest when officiating at the altar. They mark him as a man set apart from the world, the ambassador of God. They remind us that he does not act in his own person, but as the representative of God. They have a significant meaning and appeal to the senses, for the Church desires to concentrate the whole man, with all his faculties, upon this supreme and central act of religious worship. Naturally, they seem strange to non-Catholics and others of the twentieth century, for they all date back to Roman days-none of them being later than the eighth century.

COLOURS SYMBOLIC

The Church speaks to us also by the colour of the vestments worn at the different seasons of the year and on different feast days. They are as changing flowers that bloom in the beautiful Eden of the Catholic Church. White, symbolic of purity and holy joy, is worn on the feasts of Our Lord, His holy Mother, and His angel and virgin favourites. Red, symbolic of love and martyrdom, is used on the festivals of the Holy Ghost, the holy Cross, the Precious Blood, and the bravest of Christian brave, the apostles and martyrs. Violet, symbolic of humility and penance, is appointed for Lent, Advent, Vigils, and Ember Days. Green, symbolic of hope of life everlasting, is used on the remaining Sundays and week-days of the year. Black, symbolic of sorrow and mourning, is used on Good Friday and at Masses for the departed.

“IT IS THE MASS THAT MATTERS”

Such was the conclusion of a noted Congregational minister converted to the Catholic Faith some years ago. And if we enquire of Catholic converts what it was that drew them into the bosom of the Church, we shall find that in most instances the Mass was one of the principal factors in their conversion.

In England, within recent times, a prominent non-Catholic minister -referred to above-had”Mass” celebrated daily in his Congregational chapel. This imitation of the Catholic Sacrifice of the Mass was continued over a period of years. At length, enlightened by the Holy Spirit, this clergyman came to realize that he could never be satisfied with a merely external representation of the Catholic ritual. After deep study and earnest prayer, he entered the fold of the true Church, and not long thereafter went to Rome to study for the priesthood.

The clergyman was none other than the well-known Rev. William Orchard, of London, England, whose conversion has been heralded as the greatest since the time of Newman. While he was yet outside the Church, he wrote these astonishing words:”We may well hope that the Mass will one day be discerned by all Christians to be the one thing that matters; the Catholic celebration of it, the point at which unity will be found; and the doctrine of transubstantiation, the basis of a sacramental philosophy which will illumine many mysteries, the centre from which our efforts at social reconstruction will be truly inspired.”

* * *

From England, we turn our attention to a notable convert to the Catholic Faith in France. Here we find that it was through the devout attendance of Catholics at Mass that this brilliant conquest was made for Holy Mother the Church. There is no brighter name in the literary annals of France than that of Montalembert. His eloquence and the greatness of his soul were on a plane with his ancestral dignity. Throughout the ever-varying political struggles of his country, he was for almost half a century in the foremost ranks of the champions of Christian liberty. In his youth, however, it was his misfortune to have been caught up by the atheistic atmosphere and the fashionable tone of infidelity affected in the University of France.

It was during a tour in Ireland that the gift of our holy Faith was bestowed upon him. Travelling through the most neglected parts of the country, he was again and again struck by the earnest piety and heroic spirit of sacrifice of the Irish Catholics. Gradually he became convinced that the Catholic Faith is not merely a matter of theory-but rather a Divine life which through God’s mercy is given to men, and which only purity of conduct, the spirit of sacrifice and self-denial, and the practice of virtues which the Catholic Church commands, can preserve.

Finding himself on a Sunday morning in a rural district of Ireland while the season was particularly inclement, he resolved to test for himself whether the Irish Catholics were truly ready to endure hardships for their Faith. In his carriage, he accompanied the crowd as it streamed along the road to Mass. When they began to climb a hillside, he followed them on foot. At length the chapel came into sight; it was a small thatched dwelling, scarcely able to shelter the aged priest and a few members of the congregation. All the remainder knelt in front of the little chapel under the broad canopy of the heavens, with nothing to shelter them. The wind, rain and mud, however, held no terrors for them. They knelt bare-headed, while their minds and hearts were absorbed in God. It was from this lowly hillside altar, where the fervent congregation knelt in humble adoration and a throb of true piety vibrated through every heart, that a ray of heavenly light brought the gift of Divine Faith to the heart and soul of Montalembert. Until his last breath, he ever cherished the warmest affection for Ireland, and he delighted to repeat that to the heroic spirit of sacrifice displayed by the Irish people, he was indebted for the priceless treasure of the Catholic Faith.

* * *

These are but a few of the many examples which might be cited of those who have come out of the shadows of unbelief into the noonday light of the Catholic Faith and have rejoiced in the peace which filled their souls after months, perhaps years, of anxious wrestling with doubts and fears. To them, entrance into the Catholic Church was as a passing from the mists of twilight into the refulgent splendour of the midday sun, and they realized that in them the longing of the Psalmist had been fulfilled; the wings of the flying dove had brought them peace and rest.

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Reasons For Being A Catholic

INDEX

WILL ANY RELIGION DO?

IF you are going to live here for ever, or if when you die that is the end and there is no hereafter, then perhaps you can afford to live without a religion. Religion is the guide which teaches you how to live, and what God requires you to do, in order that you may gain a reward when your life is finished, and escape the punishment you will deserve if you have not lived your life aright. Will any religion do to enable you to save your soul and avoid hell? If a friend promises you a present on condition that you paint a picture for him, it will not matter whether the picture is the portrait of a person or the view of a city. But if your friend makes a condition that you shall not have the present unless you paint the portrait of some individual, it will be useless to ask him for the reward if you present him with the picture of a place. Whether any religion will do to obtain the kingdom of heaven will depend on whether God has placed any conditions for giving this reward or not.

ARE THERE ANY CONDITIONS FOR BEING SAVED?

THAT God has placed certain conditions all are agreed. The Ten Commandments contain some of them, and others are mentioned in Christ’s teaching. If we do not fulfil these conditions, can we really expect the reward? Now here arrives our first difficulty. God places certain conditions, which you must fulfil to save your soul, but how are you to know for certain what those conditions are? for different men tell you they lie in different things, some teaching exactly what others deny. Surely it is rather hard to be told that you will receive a reward provided you take care to fulfil certain conditions, if, when you ask what those conditions are, everyone you speak to tells you something different. Do you think Christ intended this when He founded His religion?

Now the Catholic Church claims to teach you with absolute certainty what the conditions are for gaining the kingdom of heaven; in other words, exactly what the religion is that Christ made when He came to earth. And this is the reason, if you find that claim to be true, why you should be a Catholic.

WHO IS THE TEACHER?

It is assumed that Christians believe that Christ was a Divine Being, that He was truly God, that He took our flesh and nature, and lived for a time on this earth, that He died for the sins of the world on a cross, and that He instructed the disciples He had gathered round Him to go into the whole world and preach the truths that He had taught them. So far at least it would seem that all Christians are agreed. The Catholic Faith teaches that this little body of apostles which Christ chose, and to whom He entrusted the teaching of the religion He founded, was what we call “the Church.” This “Church.” made by Christ had the following duties and privileges :

(1) It was to be a teacher (St Matt. xxviii. 19).

(2) It was to teach all nations (St Matt. xxviii. 19).

(3) It was to last until the end of the world (St Matt. xxviii. 20).

(4) It was to be kept by the Holy Spirit from teaching error, or decaying (St John xiv. 26, xvi. 13).

(5) It was always to be a visible body, and perfectly united in its teaching (St John xvii. 20, 21). If the above statements about the Church as designed by Christ be true, it will follow that it exists today; that it can teach the truths of Christianity with certainty, being guided by the Holy Ghost; that it is teaching all nations; that it is a body that can be seen; and that it is united in its government and religious teaching. Those Christian bodies which do not profess this Catholic Faith say that Christ’s promises to the apostles were for their lifetime only, that it was intended they should write the New Testament, and that from it we should learn our religion and what Christ taught; and lastly, that although He intended all Christians to form one united body, this wish is not carried out owing to the wickedness of men. Now put it to your ordinary sense: which of these two plans is the more likely to be true? Remember that Christ was God. As such He could look into the future, and He could see what men would say about His religion after He had gone back to Heaven. He knew that they could not teach by themselves with certainty, and that as time went on they would be at a loss to know exactly what were the doctrines of the religion which He founded. Also, being God, He had infinite power, and so could design any sort of religion He liked, and could make any kind of safeguards to prevent it from falling into error or decaying.

Christ having infinite knowledge and infinite power, what sort of a religion would you expect Him to found? Is it not more probable that He left “a Church”-that is, a teaching body that cannot teach wrong-to instruct you, than that He left a book out of which you were to help yourself?

OBJECTIONS TO A DIVINE TEACHER

OUR reason seems to tell us therefore that Christ instituted a “Church” to teach men His religion, and that He made this teacher so that it could not teach anything but what He wished. At this point the following objection is often made “Christ did not teach anything at all, and therefore there is nothing to believe. He said: ‘Believe on the Lord and thou shalt be saved,’ and ‘Whosoever calleth on the name of the Lord shall be saved’; and this shows that mere believing on Christ is enough to save our souls, and if we succeed in doing that, we don’t want anything more.” Are you quite sure we do not want anything else? Christ told His disciples to “go into the whole world,” and, “to preach the gospel to every creature; he that believeth and is baptized shall be saved, but he that believeth not shall be condemned.” Here we see that Christ says that besides believing, it is of importance to be baptized, and this proves at once that He taught some doctrine. If you again object that those words do not really mean that men must be baptized in order to be saved, this only proves in another way what is being said about the need of a teaching body to tell us truly what Christ intended us to believe and do. For if I allow your objection to the full, namely, that Christ never taught anything at all, still we want someone to teach us that much, and to teach it so that we may be absolutely sure that the statement is true. For supposing we are believing that Christ never taught any particular doctrines, and all the time we are mistaken on this point, what may happen to us? If baptism is of importance, if without it we cannot be saved, what will be our fate when this life is over

IS NOT THE BIBLE THE DIVINE TEACHER?

ONCE more you object: “Surely if I stick to the Bible and believe all that it teaches me, I cannot be wrong. It is inspired, it is God’s Word; what can you want better than that?” What the Bible says cannot possibly be wrong, because, as you say, it is inspired; but what you and your friends make the Bible say may not be correct. Being a written book, it can be explained in different ways, and you know that persons so explain it that they make it teach opposite doctrines. It cannot therefore be the sure and certain way to know what Christ taught, and what we must believe in order to be saved. Nor is it true that it is only on little and unimportant things that men explain the Bible differently. As an example, take the text on baptism, of which we have been speaking. The Church of England says it means that you cannot be saved unless you are baptized. The Non-conformists teach that it means nothing of the kind, and that men can be saved without baptism. Both cannot be right; and whoever is wrong, is wrong on a matter so grave that it affects eternal salvation. A book, however good, cannot be your sure and certain teacher, because you can interpret what is written by your own ideas. Only a living teacher, with a living voice, that stands in the place of Christ Himself, can speak to you in a way that you cannot misunderstand.

HOW TO FIND THE DIVINE TEACHER

IF Christ laid down conditions for gaining the kingdom of heaven, and if He wishes everyone to obtain that reward, it will follow, as we have seen, that He must make some sure and certain means by which we may know what those conditions are.

And not only must He make these certain means for teaching us how to save our souls, but more than that, He must show us how to know these means when we see them. In other words, it will be no use to tell you that a person can direct you with certainty to the house you want to find, unless you are told at the same time how to find or know the person who can give you this direction.

When therefore, Christ made His Church to teach men what to believe and do in order to save their souls, He was bound at the same time to point out this Church by some certain mark, so that all might know where to get this necessary information,

FIRST MARK OF THE DIVINE TEACHER

THERE are two signs or marks (among others) set by Christ upon His Church so that all might know her. First, she was to teach all nations: “Teach ye all nations” (St Matt. xxviii. 19) was Christ’s command to His apostles, or the “Church,” as it is called. Now the only religious body in the world that “teaches all nations” is the Catholic Church. It is true that Protestantism, in its different forms, is very widespread, but you will find, with slight exception, that the Established Church and the various Nonconformist sects follow the English race, and, as a rule, are only the religions of those countries belonging to England. These sects are not the religion of all nations, but chiefly of England and its foreign possessions, and of the English people. And they have only been the religion of England for about 380 years, for up to that time this country was as Catholic as any other, and in full communion with the Roman Church. They are clearly, therefore, not “teaching all nations.” The Catholic Church exactly fulfils this command of Our Lord. There is no country in the civilized world where you do not find this Church, and find it claiming to “teach.”

SECOND MARK OF THE DIVINE TEACHER

THE second mark by which to know the true religion is unity. After the Last Supper Our Lord prayed for His disciples that they might remain united in one teaching, and He gives as His reason that the world might believe that He was sent by God (St John xvii. 17–21). The whole object then of this mark of unity was to prove to the world the truth of Christ’s work. And it does prove it clearly, for the reason that no one but a Divine Being could make a body of men who should all teach the same thing. “So many men, so many minds,” is a common saying, and we all know that “opinions differ.” Now Our Lord seems to say: “ If I can make a body of men who shall all teach what I have taught them in exactly the same way, without addition of their own, or changing My words according to their opinions, then, because no human being can do this, I shall be showing the world that I came forth from God.”

THE WORK OF A DIVINE WORKMAN

REMEMBER that the teaching of the Catholic Church is the same throughout the world. Wherever you may go you will find each doctrine of the Catholic Faith being taught and believed in exactly the same way. Bishops and priests, no matter what their race or language, can celebrate at the altar of a Catholic church anywhere in the world-and everywhere the laity will find the same holy Sacrifice of the Mass, and the same Sacraments. Here then is a perfect unity of faith and unity of organization, so perfect in fact, that the ordinary Protestant refuses to believe that such a unity exists on earth. Surely the Catholic Church is thus showing the world that she is the handiwork of a Divine Being

THE WORK OF HUMAN WORKMEN

COMPARE this unity of the Catholic Faith with the disunion to be found in the Protestant sects. Each Protestant believes what he likes, and there is no “Church” or teaching authority to say to him, “You are believing what is right,” or “You are believing what is wrong.” once you find that Protestantism is split into sects of all kinds, and these sects again are split up among themselves. Take the Church of England as an example. It is divided into at least two parties, the High and the Low Church. The former teaches among other things, that after the words of consecration in their Communion service, Christ is truly present in the bread and wine. The Low Church section deny this altogether, and say that the bread and wine remain after the consecration as they were before and that no change takes place. You may therefore have a High Church minister giving what he calls the Body of Christ to a Low Church communicant, who receives it saying it is only bread. Or you may have a Low Church minister giving what he declares to be merely bread to a person who receives it as the Body of Christ. As one or other of these statements is false about a most serious matter, surely if an authority able to teach exists, here is a place where it should make itself heard. But no authority exists among those outside the Catholic Church that ventures to “ teach,” even in so grave a case as this. Hence you can find Protestants of all kinds of religious opinions in this country, some of them holding things to be necessary for salvation which others say are of no consequence. This want of unity of belief among those outside the Catholic Church makes the world ask whether the Founder of Christianity could possibly have been divine if His work could become such a failure; and thus, on account of these divisions, Protestantism cannot possibly be the witness to mankind that Christ was the Son of God.

CAN THE DIVINE TEACHER FAIL?

You have but one excuse, if you agree so far, for not being a Catholic. It is this: “Christ,” you say, did indeed make His Church as you describe; He told it to teach all nations, He gave it the Holy Spirit to prevent it teaching wrongly, and He gave it the mark of unity that all might easily know it. But although the Church was formed perfectly, in course of time it failed; owing to the wilfulness of men, they split the Church up, and now she exists in pieces only; and being in pieces, she cannot act any longer as the teacher of the world.” This objection is common enough, and it really means that Christ did not make a perfect Church, but that He made it so weak and imperfect that under the first strain it broke up. Do you not think it would have been better if He had never made a teaching Church at all than to have made one such as you describe? What was the use of Christ adding fresh conditions to those already given for obtaining the kingdom of heaven, if a few years after His death there was to be no certainty as to what those conditions were? We were better without such a Church. And can you not see that a guide, to be of any use at all, is most needed in times of difficulty and danger, not in times when things just go smoothly and with ease? If a friend undertook to guide you to a distant place on a dark night, and went on before with a lantern to show you the way, what would you think of him, if, just when the road became dangerous and there was a chance of making a false step, he blew out the light and went back to his house and left you to your fate? Yet this is what those say who admit the Church was to be the guide of men, but state at the same time that when in the past certain difficulties arose, then the Holy Spirit ceased to protect the Church and left her to her fate, and since that time she has not been able to teach the world. A little thought ought to show that this so-called objection is not one at all, and cannot be used as a reason for your staying outside the unity of the Catholic Church.

SUFFERING AND SACRIFICE

AND there is one more matter that requires consideration, if, from what you have read you see that you ought to be a Catholic. It is possible that if you make this great change in your religious belief, you will have to suffer for it. Our Divine Lord has told us plainly what it means if we would “ be His disciples.” In the early ages of Christianity the death penalty was the frequent reward of those who became converts, and although today this extreme punishment is not likely to be yours, still you may be made to suffer keenly if you become a Catholic. “A man’s enemies shall be those of his own household,” said our Blessed Lord, and those words of His are often true now. If you had wished to leave the religious body to which you belong, in order to become a member of some sect probably you would have met with little opposition. Possibly had you wished to be a Jew or even a Mahometan, less objection would be made to your taking such a step as to your becoming a Catholic. Hundreds of converts in this country have been turned out of their homes, deprived of their livelihood, prevented from inheriting family estates, and otherwise cruelly treated by their relations and friends, for no other crime than that they wished to practise the Catholic religion.

Why is it that this religion is thus singled out and treated so differently from other bodies calling themselves religious? It is because it claims to be the one true religion; and hence, if this claim be correct, none of the sects have standing room, and they resent it accordingly. Yet is not this treatment exactly what we should expect, if the Catholic Faith is the true religion? Our Blessed Lord said to His disciples: “They will put you out of the synagogues; yea, the hour cometh that whosoever killeth you will think that he doth a service to God.” He has told us, “Ye shall be hated by all men for My name’s sake,” and that as He was persecuted, and as all manner of things were said against Him falsely, so would the world persecute and vilify His followers, for “the servant is not to be above his master.” “If the world hate you, know that it hath hated Me before you.” Hence our Blessed Lord has promised you persecution if you become a member of His Church. But He has promised you a great reward as well: “There is no man who hath left house, or brethren, or sisters, or father, or mother, or children, or lands, for My sake and for the gospel, who shall not receive an hundred times as much now in this time. . . . and in the world to come, life everlasting.” So that if by becoming a Catholic you may be called on to make great sacrifices, you see it is worth it; and to refuse to submit to the teaching Church when your mind and heart are convinced of the truth of her claims is to run a very grave risk, for “what will it profit a man if he gain the whole world, and suffer the loss of his soul? Or what shall a man give in exchange for his soul? “

Conclusion LASTLY, you should bear this in mind. Difficulties of all kinds about the Catholic religion will present themselves. “How am I to believe in prayers to the Blessed Virgin and the saints, or in purgatory, or in confession, or a dozen more things?” you exclaim. The answer is very simple. Does the Church exist today which teaches you with perfect truth? If it does, then you have only to believe humbly what that Church teaches, as you would have listened to one of the Twelve Apostles telling you what you had to do in order to save your soul without question and without doubting. Whatever that Church says to you must be true because, as we have seen, Christ planned it for the very purpose of teaching you with absolute certainty what it was needful you should know to gain everlasting life. If this teaching Church does not exist somewhere today, then it does not much matter what you believe. You may make up a religion for yourself, with bits from the Bible, and bits from history, and bits from your own fancy; but at best it will be only guess-work, and you cannot say with certainty “This is necessary for me to use to save my soul.” And the strongest argument of all that can be put forward for this Divine Teacher, the Catholic Church, is that she, and she alone of all the religions you will meet with in this country, claims not only to be the descendant of the apostles, but the divinely-inspired teacher of Christianity to mankind. No other religion dares to make this claim, and she has made it for nineteen centuries and defied contradiction. If, then, you are in earnest to find the true religion which was taught by the Twelve Apostles, you must search in the first place for the Church which to-day claims to teach “all nations.” If you use a religion which is local, which is used by those only who are of your own country and race, you ought to begin to suspect that you have not the religion of “all nations.” And further, if you find you are uncertain what to believe about the greater doctrines of Christianity, and that those who belong to the same religious body as yourself differ widely from you in many things which they hold or deny, then you may feel certain that you are outside that Church whose unity of doctrine was to last till the end of the world.

Finally, you must pray for that great gift, “the obedience of faith,” as St Paul calls it, by which we are enabled to submit our proud wills to the sweet and easy teaching of Christ, as made known to us by that Church which He left on earth to show men the way to Heaven with perfect confidence and safety.

A PRAYER TO ASK FOR THE GRACE OF DIVINE FAITH

O LORD, who has said “Unless you become as little children, you shall not enter the kingdom of heaven,” make me, I beseech Thee, as obedient as a little child in submitting my will and understanding to the teaching authority of Thy Church, that so I may merit to obtain this kingdom which Thou hast promised.

Amen.

Refuting Errors Concerning The Most Holy Sacramentof The Eucharist

FROM THE WRITINGS OF SAINT ALPHONSUS LIGUORI

FROM “THE HISTORY OF HERESIES, AND THEIR REFUTATION”; OR, “THE TRIUMPH OF THE CHURCH.”

TRANSLATED FROM THE ITALIAN OF SAINT ALPHONSUS LIGUORI,

BY THE REV. JOHN T. MULLOCK, OF THE ORDER OF SAINT FRANCIS, IN 1847

INDEX

REFUTATION OF THE HERESY OF BERENGARIUS AND THE PRETENDED ‘REFORMERS,’ CONCERNING THE MOST HOLY SACRAMENT OF THE EUCHARIST

1. The truth of the Real Presence of Christ in the Sacrament of the altar has been always established and universally embraced by the whole Church, as Saint Vincent of Lerins said, in 434 A.D.

Mosheim, the Protestant Ecclesiastical Historian, asserts that in the 9th century, the exact nature of the faith of the body and blood of Jesus Christ in the Eucharist was not established, and that Pascasius Radbertus laid down in a book he wrote, two principal points concerning it; first, that after the consecration nothing remained of the substance of the bread and wine, and, secondly, that in the consecrated Host is the very body of Jesus Christ, which was born of Mary, died on the cross, and arose from the tomb, and this, Radbertus said, is “what the whole world believes and professes.” This work was opposed by Retramn, and perhaps others, and hence Mosheim concludes that the dogma was not then established. In this, however, Mosheim is astray, for, as Selvaggi writes (note 79, volume 3), there was no controversy at all about the dogma, in which Retramn was agreed with Radbertus; Retramn only attacked some expressions in Radbertus’ work.

Up to the ninth century, the Sacrament of the Eucharist never was impugned, till John Scotus Erigena, an Irishman, first published to the world the unheard-of heresy that the body and blood of Christ were not in reality in the Holy Eucharist, which, he said, was only a figure of Jesus Christ.

2. Berengarius, or Berenger, taught this same heresy in the year 1050, taking his opinions from the works of Scotus Erigena, and in the twelfth century, we find the heretics known as the Petrobrussians and Henricians, who said that the Eucharist was only a mere sign of the body and blood of our Lord. The Albigensian heretics held the same error in the thirteenth century, and finally, in the sixteenth century the modern Protestant Reformers all joined in attacking this Holy Sacrament. Zwingli and Karlstadt said that the Eucharist was a signification of the body and blood of Jesus Christ, and Oecolampadius joined them afterwards, and Bucer, also, partially.

Luther admitted the Real Presence of Christ in the Eucharist, but said that the substance of the bread remained there also. Calvin several times changed his opinion on the matter; he said, in order to deceive the Catholics, that the Eucharist was not a mere sign, or naked figure of Christ, but was filled with his Divine Virtue, and sometimes he even admitted that the very substance of the body of Christ was there, but his general opinion was that the presence of Christ was not real but figurative, by the power placed there by our Lord. Hence Bossuet says in his “Variations,” Calvin never wished to admit that the sinner, in communicating receives the body of Christ, for then he should admit the Real Presence. The Council of Trent (Session 13, canon 1), teaches, “that Jesus Christ, God and man, is really, truly, and substantially contained under the appearance of those sensible things in the Sacrament of the Eucharist, after the consecration of the bread and wine.”

3. Before we prove the Real Presence of Christ in the Eucharist, we must know that it is a true Sacrament, as the

Council of Florence (1445) declares in its Decree or Instruction for the Armenians; and the Council of Trent (Session 8, canon 1), in opposition to the Socinians, who say that it is not a Sacrament, but merely a remembrance of the death of our Saviour. It is, however, an article of Faith that the Eucharist is a true Sacrament; for,

First, we have the sensible sign, the appearance of bread and wine.

Secondly, there is the institution of Christ: “Do this in commemoration of me” (Luke, 22).

Thirdly, there is the promise of Grace: “Who eats my flesh has eternal life.”

We now have to inquire what in the Eucharist constitutes a Sacrament. The Lutherans say that it is in the use, with all the actions that Christ did, at the last Supper, that the Sacrament consists, as Saint Matthew tells us: “Jesus took bread, blessed it, and broke it, and gave it to his disciples” (Matthew 26). The Calvinists, on the other hand, say that it is in the actual eating that the Sacrament consists.

We Catholics believe: that the consecration is not the Sacrament, because that is a transitory action, and the Eucharist is a permanent

Sacrament, as can be shown; nor the use or communion, for this regards the effect of the Sacrament, which is a Sacrament before it is received at all; nor in the species alone, for these do not confer Grace; nor the body of Jesus Christ alone, because it is not there in a sensible manner; but the sacramental species, together with the body of Christ, form the Sacrament, inasmuch as they contain the body of our Lord.

I. OF THE REAL PRESENCE OF THE BODY AND BLOOD OF JESUS CHRIST IN THE EUCHARIST

4. We have already said that the Council of Trent (Session 13, canon 3) teaches that Jesus Christ is contained in the sacramental species, truly, really, and substantially; truly, rejecting the figurative presence, for the figure is opposed to truth; really, rejecting the imaginary presence which Faith makes us aware of, as the Sacramentarians assert; and substantially, rejecting the doctrine of Calvin, who said that in the Eucharist it was not the body of Christ, but his virtue or power, that was present, by which he communicates himself to us; but in this he erred, for the whole substance of Jesus Christ is in the Eucharist.

Hence, the Council of Trent (Canon 1), condemns those who assert that Christ is in the Sacrament as a sign, or figure, ‘signo, vel figura.’

5. The Real Presence is proved, first, by the words of Christ himself: “Take and eat, this is my body,” words which are quoted by Saint Matthew (26:26); Saint Mark (14:22); Saint Luke (22:19); and Saint Paul (1 Corinth 11:24). It is a certain rule, says Saint Augustine, and is commonly followed by the Holy Fathers, to take the words of Scripture in their proper literal sense, unless some absurdity would result from doing so; for if it were allowed to explain every thing in a mystic sense, it would be impossible to prove any article of Faith from the Scripture, and it would only become the source of a thousand errors, as every one would give it whatever sense he pleased. Therefore, says the Council (Chapter 1), it is an enormous wickedness to distort the words of Christ by feigned figurative explanations, when three of the Evangelists and Saint Paul give them just as he expressed them. Who will dare to doubt that it is his body and blood, says Saint Cyril of Jerusalem, in his Catechetical Discourses, when Christ has said so? We put this question to the heretics: Could Jesus Christ turn the bread into his body or not? We believe not one of them will deny that he could, for every Christian knows that God is all-powerful, “because no word shall be impossible with God” (Luke 1:37).

But they will answer, perhaps: We do not deny that he could, but perhaps he did not wish to do it. Did not wish to do it, perhaps? But tell me, if he did wish to do so, could he have possibly declared more clearly what his will was, than by saying: “This is my body”? When he was asked by Caiphas: “Are you the Christ the Son of the blessed God? And Jesus said to him: I am” (Mark, 14:61–62), we should say, according to their mode of explanation, that he spoke figuratively also.

Besides, if you allow, with the Sacramentarians, that the words of Christ: “This is my body,” are to be taken figuratively, why, then, do you object to the Socinians, who say that the words of Christ, quoted by Saint John (10:30): “I and the Father are one,” ought to be taken not literally, but merely showing that between Christ and the Father there existed a moral union of the will, but not a union of substance, and, consequently denied his Divinity. We now pass on to the other proofs.

6. The Real Presence is proved, secondly, by that text of Saint John where Christ says: “The bread that I will give is my flesh for the life of the world” (John, 6:52). Our adversaries explain away this text, by saying, that here our Redeemer does not in this chapter speak of the Eucharist, but of the Incarnation of the Word. We do not say that in the beginning of the chapter it is the Incarnation that is spoken of; but there cannot be the least doubt but that from the 52nd verse out it is the Eucharist, as even Calvin admits; and it was thus the Fathers and Councils always understood it, as the Council of Trent, which (Chapter 2, Session 13, and Chapter 1, Session 22) quotes several passages from that chapter to confirm the Real Presence; and the Second Council of Nicaea in 787 (Act. 6) quotes the 54th verse of the same chapter: “Unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man, (and so on),” to prove that the true body of Christ is offered up in the Sacrifice of the Mass.

It is in this chapter, also, that our Saviour promises to give to the Faithful, at a future time, his own flesh as food: “The bread that I will give is my flesh, for the life of the world” (verse 52), and here he sets totally aside the false explanation of the sectarians, who say that he only speaks of the spiritual eating by means of Faith, in believing the Incarnation of the Word; for if that was our Lord’s meaning, he would not say: “The bread which I will give,” but “the bread which I have given,” for the Word was already incarnate, and his disciples might then spiritually feed on Jesus Christ; therefore he said: “I will give,” for he had not as yet instituted the Sacrament, but only promised to do so, and as Saint Thomas remarks, he says, “the bread which I will give is my flesh, for the life of the world;” he did not say, ‘it means my flesh’ (as the Zwinglians afterwards explained it), but ‘it is my flesh,’ because it is truly the body of Christ which is received. Our Lord next says: “My flesh is meat indeed, and my blood is drink indeed” (John, 6:56); and, therefore, Saint Hilary says he leaves us no room to doubt of the truth of his body and blood. In fact, if the real body and blood of Christ were not in the Eucharist, this passage would be a downright falsehood. We should not forget, also, that the distinction between meat and drink can only be understood as referring to the eating of the true body, and drinking the true blood of Christ, and not of spiritual eating by faith, as the Reformers assert; for, as that is totally internal, the meat and the drink would be only one and the same thing, and not two distinct things.

7. We have another strong proof (the third) in the same chapter of Saint John (chapter 6); for the people of Caphernaum, hearing Christ speak thus, said: “How can this man give us his flesh to eat?” (verse 53); and they even thought it so unreasonable, that “after this many of his disciples went back, and walked no more with him” (verse 67). Now, if the flesh of Christ was not really in the Eucharist, he could remove the scandal from them at once, by saying that it was only spiritually they were called on to eat his flesh by faith; but, instead of that, he only confirmed more strongly what he said before, for he said: “Except you eat the flesh of the Son of Man, and drink his blood, you shall not have life in you” (verse 54). And he then turned to the twelve disciples, who remained with him, and said: “Will you also go away? And Peter answered him: Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life, and we have believed and have known that you are the Christ the Son of God” (verses 69–70).

8. The Real Presence of Christ in the Eucharist is proved also from the words of Saint Paul: “For let a man prove himself for he that eats and drinks unworthily, eats and drinks judgment to himself, not discerning the body of the Lord” (1 Corinth 11:28–29). Now, mark these words, “the body of the Lord.” Does not that prove how erroneously the sectarians act, in saying that in the Eucharist we venerate, by faith, the figure alone of the body of Christ; for if that was the case, the Apostle would not say that they who received in sin were deserving of eternal condemnation; but he clearly states that one who communicates unworthily is so, for he does not distinguish the body of the Lord from the common earthly food.

9. Fourthly, it is proved again from Saint Paul, for speaking of the use of this Holy Sacrament, he says: “The chalice of benediction which we bless, is it not the communion of the blood of Christ? And the bread which we break, is it not the partaking of the body of the Lord?” (1 Corinth 10:16). Mark the words, “the bread which we break”; that which is first offered to God on the altar, and afterwards distributed to the people, is it not the partaking of the body of the Lord? Do not, in a word, those who receive it partake of the true body of Christ?

10. Fifthly, it is proved by the Decrees of Councils. We find it first mentioned in the Council of Alexandria, which was afterwards approved of by the first Council of Constantinople (381). Next, the Council of Ephesus (431) sanctioned the twelve anathemas of Saint Cyril against Nestorius, and in this, the Real Presence of Christ in the Eucharist is taught. The Second Council of Nicaea in 787 (Act. 6) condemns, as an error against Faith, the assertion that the figure alone, and not the true body of Christ, is in the Eucharist; for, says the Council, Christ said, take and eat, this is my body, but he did not say, take and eat, this is the image of my body. In the Roman Council, under Gregory VII, in 1079, Berengarius, in the Profession of Faith which he made, confesses that the bread and wine are, by the consecration, substantially converted into the body and blood of Christ. The Fourth Council of Lateran, under Innocent III., in the year 1215 (chapter 1), says: “We believe that the body and blood of Christ are contained under the species of bread and wine, the bread being transubstantiated into the body, and the wine into the blood.” In the Council of Constance (1418), the Propositions of Wickliffe and Huss were condemned, which said that (in the Eucharist) the bread was present in reality, and the body figuratively, and that the expression “this is my body” is a figure of speech, just like the expression, “John is Elias.” The Council of Florence (1445), in the Decree of Union for the Greeks, decrees, “that the body of Christ is truly consecrated (veracitur confici) in bread of wheat, either leavened or unleavened.”

11. It is proved, sixthly, by the perpetual and uniform Tradition of the Holy Fathers.

Here is an incomplete list:

Saint Ignatius the Martyr, in his letter to Smyrna;

Saint Iræneus, in his work Against the Heresies in chapter 18, and in another place, in chapter 34; Saint Justin, Martyr, in his Apology where he argues that the same flesh which the Word assumed is in the

Eucharist;

Tertullian;

Origen;

Saint Ambrose; and Saint John Chrysostom.

Saint Athanasius, Saint Basil, and Saint Gregory of Nazianzen, express the same sentiments in their writings.

To this list we could go on and add names such as: Saint Augustine;

Saint Remigius (440–533); and Saint Gregory the Great.

From the later East we have Saint John of Damascus. Thus, we see an uninterrupted series of Fathers for the first seven centuries proclaiming, in the clearest and most forcible language, the doctrine of the Real Presence of Jesus Christ in the Most Holy Sacrament of the Eucharist.

12. By this we see how false is the interpretation which Zwingli put on that text, “This is my body,” when he said that the word ‘is’ means ‘signifies,’ founding his heresy on a verse of Exodus (12:11): “ For it is the Pasch (that is the passage) of the Lord.” Now, said he, the eating of the paschal lamb was not itself the passage of the Lord; it only meant it, or signified it. The Zwinglians alone follow this interpretation, for we never can take the sense of the word ‘is’ for the word ‘means’ or ‘signifies,’ unless in cases, where reason itself shows that the word ‘is’ has a figurative meaning; but in this case the Zwinglian explanation is contrary to the proper literal sense, in which we should always understand the Scriptures, when that sense is not repugnant to reason. The Zwinglian explanation is also opposed to Saint Paul, relating to us the very words of Christ: “This is my body, which shall be delivered up for you” (1 Corinth 11:24). Our Lord, we see, did not deliver up, in his Passion, the sign or signification of his body, but his real and true body.

The Zwinglians say, besides, that in the Syro-Chaldaic or Hebrew, in which our Redeemer spoke, when instituting the Eucharist, that there is no word corresponding in meaning to our word ‘signify,’ and hence, in the Old Testament, we always find the word ‘is’ used instead of it, and, therefore, the words of Christ, “This is my body,” should be understood, as if he said, “This signifies my body.”

We answer: First: It is not the fact that the word signifies is never found in the Old Testament, for we find in Exodus: “Manhu! which signifies: What is this” (Exodus 16:15—[hence it was called manna]); and in Judges (14:15): “Persuade him to tell you what the riddle means;” and in Ezekiel (17:12): “Know you not what these things mean.”

Secondly: Although even if the words ‘mean’ or ‘signify’ were not found in the Hebrew or Syro -Chaldaic, still the word ‘is’ must not always be taken for it, only in case that the context should show that such is the intention of the speaker; but in this case the word has surely its own signification, as we learn, especially from the Greek version; this language has both words, and still the Greek text says, “This is my body,” and not “This means my body.”

13. The opinion of those sectarians, who say that in the Eucharist only a figure exists, and not the body of Christ in reality, is also refuted by these words of our Lord, already quoted: “This is my body, which shall be delivered up for you” (1 Corinth 11:24); for Jesus Christ delivered up his body to death, and not the figure of his body. And, speaking of his sacred blood, he says (Saint Matthew 26:28): “For this is my blood of the New Testament, which shall be shed for many unto remission of sins.” Christ, then, shed his real blood, and not the figure of his blood; for the figure is expressed by speech, or writing, or painting, but the figure is not shed. Someone might object that Saint Augustine, speaking in On Christian Doctrine, of that passage of Saint John, “Unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man.” says that the flesh of our Lord is a figure, bringing to our mind the memory of his passion. We answer, that we do not deny that our Redeemer instituted the Holy Eucharist, in memory of his death, as we learn from Saint Paul (1 Corinth 11:26): “For as often as you shall eat this bread, and drink this chalice, you shall show the death of the Lord until he come;” but still we assert, that in the Eucharist there is the true body of Christ, and there is, at the same time, a figure, commemorative of his death; and this is Saint Augustine’s meaning, for he never doubted that the body and blood of Christ were in the Eucharist really and truly, as he elsewhere expresses it in his 83rd Sermon.

14. There is, I should say, no n ecessity of refuting Calvin’s opinions on the Real Presence, for he constantly refutes himself, changing his opinion a thousand times, and always cloaking it in ambiguous terms. Bossuet and Du Hamel may be consulted on this point.

They treat the subject ex tensively, and quote Calvin’s opinion, who says, at one time, that the true substance of the body of Christ is in the Eucharist, and then again, that Christ is united to us by Faith; so that, by the presence of Christ, he understands a presence of power or virtue in the Sacrament; and this is confirmed by him in another part of his works, where he says that Christ is just as much present to us in the Eucharist as he is in Baptism. At one time, he says the Sacrament of the Altar is a miracle, and then again, the whole miracle, he says, consists in this, that the Faithful are vivified by the flesh of Christ, since a virtue so powerful descends from heaven on earth. Again, he says that even the unworthy receive in the Supper the body of Christ, and then, in another place, he says that he is received by the elect alone. In fine, we see Calvin struggling, in the explanation of this dogma, not to appear a heretic with the Zwinglians, nor a Catholic with the Roman Catholics.

Here is the Profession of Faith which the Calvinist Ministers presented to the Prelates, at the Conference of Poissy, as Bossuet gives it: “We believe that the body and blood are really united to the bread and wine, but in a sacramental manner that is, not according to the natural position of bodies, but inasmuch as they signify that God gives his body and blood to those who truly receive him by Faith.” It was remarkable in that Conference, that Theodore Beza, the first disciple of Calvin, and who had hardly time to have imbibed all his errors, said publicly, as De Thou relates, “that Jesus Christ was as far from the Supper as the heavens were from the earth.” The French Prelates then drew up a true Confession of Faith, totally opposed to the Calvinists: “We believe,” said they, “that in the Sacrament of the Altar there is really and transubstantially the true body and blood of Jesus Christ, under the appearance of bread and wine, by the power of the Divine Word pronounced by the Priest,” and so on.

OBJECTIONS AGAINST THE REAL PRESENCE ANSWERED. 15. They object, first, the words of Christ:

“It is the Spirit that quickens, the flesh profits nothing.

“These words that I have spoken to you are spirit and life” (John, 6: 64).

See there, they say, the words which you make use of to prove the Real Presence of Christ in the Eucharist are figurative expressions, which signify the celestial food of life, which we receive by Faith.

We answer, with Saint John Chrysostom, that when Christ says the flesh profits nothing, he spoke not of his own flesh, God forbid! but of those who carnally receive it, as the Apostle says: “The sensual man perceives not those things that are of the Spirit of God” (1 Corinth 2:14), and those who carnally speak of the Divine Mysteries, and to this Saint John refers when Christ says: “The words I have spoken to you are spirit and life” (John, 6:64), meaning that these words refer not to carnal and perishable things, but to spiritual things and to eternal life. But even supposing these words to refer to the flesh of Christ itself, they only mean, as Saint Athanasius and Saint Augustine explain them, that the flesh of Christ, given to us as food, sanctifies us by the Spirit, or the Divinity united to it, but that the flesh alone would be of no avail. These are Saint Augustine’s words in his 27th Tract on John’s Gospel.

16. They object, secondly, that when Jesus Christ said: “This is my body,” the word this in the sentence has reference to the bread alone, which he then held in his hand, but bread is only a figure of the body of Christ, but not the body itself.

We answer that if we do not consider the proposition “This is my body” as complete in itself, that might be the case if he said, for example, ‘this is,’ and did not say any more, then the word ‘this’ would have reference to the bread alone, which he held in his hand; but taking the whole sentence together, there can be no doubt but that the word ‘this’ refers to the body of Christ. When our Lord changed water into wine, if he had said, this is wine, everyone would understand that the word ‘this’ referred not to the water but to the wine, and in the same way in the Eucharist the word ‘this,’ in the complete sense of the sentence, refers to the body, because the change is made when the whole sentence is completed. In fact, the word ‘this’ in the sentence has no meaning at all, till the latter part is pronounced, ‘is my body’; then alone the sense is complete.

17. They object, thirdly, that the sentence, “ This is my body” is just as figurative as other passages in the Scriptures, as for example, when Christ says: “I am the true vine,” “I am the gate,” or when it is said that he is the Rock.

We reply that it is a matter of course that these propositions should be taken figuratively, for that Christ should be literally a vine, a door, or a rock is repugnant to common sense, and the words “I am,” therefore, are figurative. In the words of consecration, however, there is nothing repugnant to reason in joining the predicate with the subject, because, as we have remarked already, Christ did not say ‘this bread is my body,’ but “This is my body;” this, that is what is contained under the appearance of this bread, is my body; here there is nothing repugnant to reason.

18. They object, fourthly, that the Real Presence is opposed to the words of Christ himself, for he said (John 12:8): “The poor you have always with you, but me you have not always.” Our Saviour, therefore, after his ascension, is no longer on earth.

Our Lord, we reply, then spoke of his visible presence as man receiving honour from Magdalen. When Judas, therefore, murmured against the waste of the ointment, our Lord reproves him, saying, you have not me always with you, that is, in the visible and natural form of man, but there is here nothing to prove that after his ascension into heaven he does not remain on earth in the Eucharist, under the appearance of bread and wine, invisibly, and in a supernatural manner. In this sense we must understand also, all similar passages, as, “I leave the world and go to my Father” (John, 16:18): “He was taken up into heaven, and sits at the right hand of God” (Mark, 16:19).

19. They object, fifthly, these words of the Apostle: “Our fathers were all under the cloud and did all eat the same spiritual food” (1 Corinth 10:1–3); therefore, they say, we only receive Christ in the Eucharist by Faith, just as the Hebrews received him.

We answer, that the sense of the words is, that the Hebrews received spiritual food, the Manna, of which Saint Paul speaks, the figure of the Eucharist, but did not receive the body of Christ in reality, as we receive it. The Hebrews received the figure, but we receive the real body, already prefigured.

20. Sixthly, they object that Christ said: “I will not drink from henceforth of this fruit of the vine, until that day when I shall drink it with you new, in the kingdom of my Father” (Matthew 26:29), and these words he expressed, after having previously said, “This is my blood of the New Testament, which shall be shed for many for the remission of sins” (verse 28). Now, say they, take notice of the words, ‘fruit of the vine.’ That is a proof that the wine remains after the consecration.

We answer, first, that Christ might have called it wine, even after the consecration, not because the substance, but because the form of wine was retained, just as Saint Paul calls the Eucharist bread after the consecration: “Whosoever shall eat this bread, or drink the chalice of the Lord unworthily, shall be guilty of the body and the blood of the Lord” (1 Corinth 11, verse 29).

Secondly, we reply, with Saint Fulgentius, who supposes that Christ took two chalices, one the Paschal chalice, according to the Jewish Rite, the other according to the Sacramental Rite. Our Lord then, he says, when using the words they found the objection on, spoke of the first chalice, and not of the second, and that he did so is clear from the words of another of the Evangelists, Saint Luke (22:17), who says that “having taken the chalice, he gave thanks, and said: Take and divide it among you. For I say to you that I will not drink of the fruit of the vine, till the kingdom of God come.” Now, if we read on to the 20th verse of the same chapter, we find that Jesus took the chalice of wine and consecrated it: “In like manner the chalice also, after he had supped, saying: This is the chalice, the New Testament, in my blood which shall be shed for you.” Hence, it is manifest that the words, “I will not drink of the fruit of the vine,” were expressed by our Redeemer previous to the consecration of the chalice.

21. They object, seventhly, that the doctrine of the Real Presence cannot be true, for it is opposed to all our senses. But to this we reply, with the Apostle, that matters of faith are not manifest to the senses, for “Faith is the evidence of things that appear not” (Hebrews 11:1). And we have another text, also, which disposes of this feeble argument: “The sensual man perceives not the things that are of the Spirit of God, for it is foolishness to him” (1 Corinth 2:14). All this can be answered more extensively if time permits.

II. OF TRANSUBSTANTIATION, THAT IS, THE CONVERSION OF THE SUBSTANCE OF THE BREAD AND OF THE WINE INTO THE SUBSTANCE OF THE BODY AND BLOOD OF JESUS CHRIST

22. Luther at first left it as a matter of choice to each person, either to believe in Transubstantiation or not, but he changed his opinion afterwards, and in 1522, in the book which he wrote against Henry VIII, he says: “I now wish to transubstantiate my own opinion. I thought it better before to say nothing about the belief in Transubstantiation, but now I declare, that if any one holds this doctrine, he is an impious blasphemer,” and he concludes by saying, that in the Eucharist, along with the body and blood of Christ, remains the substance of the bread and wine: “that the body of Christ is in the bread, with the bread, and under the bread, just as fire is in a red-hot iron.” He, therefore, called the Real Presence “Impanation,” or “Consubstantiation,” that is, the association of the substance of bread and wine with the substance of the body and blood of Jesus Christ.

23. The Council of Trent, however, teaches, that the whole substance of the bread and wine is changed into the body and blood of Christ. It issued a Decree to that effect (Chapter 4, Session 13), and says, that the Church most aptly calls this change Transubstantiation.

The words are in the Second Canon. Remark the words, ‘mirabilem ilium, et singularem conversionem totius substantiæ,’ ‘the wonderful and singular conversion of the whole substance.’ It is called ‘wonderful,’ for it is a mystery hidden from us, and which we never can comprehend. It is ‘singular,’ because in all nature there is not another case of a similar change; and it is called a ‘conversion,’ because it is not a simple union with the body of Christ, such as was the hypostatic union by which the Divine and human Natures were united in the sole person of Christ. Such is not the case, then, in the Eucharist, for the substance of the bread and wine is not united with, but is totally changed and converted into, the body and blood of Jesus Christ. We say a ‘conversion of the whole substance,’ to distinguish it from other conversions or changes, such as the change of food into the body of the person who partakes of it, or the change of water into wine by our Redeemer at Cana, and the change of the rod of Moses into a serpent, for in all these changes the substance remained, and it was the form alone that was changed; but in the Eucharist the matter and form of the bread and wine is changed, and the species alone remain, that is, the appearance alone, as the council explains it.

24. The general opinion is, that this conversion is not performed by the creation of the body of Christ, for creation is the production of a thing out of nothing; but this is the conversion of the substance of the bread into the substance of the body of Christ. It does not take place either by the annihilation of the matter of the bread and wine, because annihilation means the total destruction of a thing, and the body of Christ, then, would be changed, we may say, from nothing; but in the Eucharist the substance of the bread passes into the substance of Christ, so that it is not from nothing. Neither does it take place by the transmutation of the form alone (as a certain author endeavours to prove); the same matter still remaining, as happened when the water was changed into wine, and the rod into a serpent.

John Duns Scotus says that Transubstantiation is an act adducing the body of Christ into the Eucharist (actio adductiva); but this opinion is not followed by others, for adduction does not mean conversion by the passage of one substance into the other. It cannot be called, either, a unitive action, for that supposes two extremes in the point of union. Hence, we say, with Saint Thomas, that the consecration operates in such a manner, that if the body of Christ was not in heaven, it would commence to exist in the Eucharist. The consecration really, and in the instant, ‘instanti,’ as the same Doctor says in the Summa, reproduces the body of Christ under the present species of bread, for as this is a sacramental action, it is requisite that there should be an external sign, in which the rationale of a Sacrament consists.

25. The Council of Trent has declared (Session 13, chapter 3), that the body of Christ alone is under the appearance of bread, and the blood alone under the appearance of wine; that by natural and proximate concomitance the soul of our Saviour is under both species, with his body and his blood; by supernatural and remote concomitance the Divinity of the Word is present, by the hypostatic union of the Word with the body and soul of Christ; and that the Father and the Holy Ghost are present, by the identity of the essence of the Father and the Holy Ghost with the Word. You might wish to examine the words of the Council.

26. Transubstantiation is proved by the very words of Christ himself: “This is my body.” The word ‘this,’ according to the Lutherans themselves, proves that Christ’s body was really present. If the body of Christ was there, therefore the substance of the bread was not there; for if the bread was there, and if by the word ‘this’ our Lord meant the bread, the proposition would be false, taking it in this sense, ‘This is my body,’ that is, ‘this bread is my body,’ for it is not true that the bread was the body of Christ. But perhaps they will then say, before our Lord expressed the word ‘body,’ what did the word ‘this’ refer to? We answer, as we have done already, that it does not refer either to the bread or to the body, but has its own natural meaning, which is this: This which is contained under the appearance of bread is not bread, but is my body.

Saint Cyril of Jerusalem explains it is his Catechetical Discourses. The doctrine is upheld by Saint Gregory of Nyssa, Saint Ambrose, and Saint John of Damascus in his treatise On the Orthodox Faith. Tertullian, Saint John Chrysostom, and Saint Hilary use the same language.

27. Transubstantiation is also proved by the authority of Councils, and especially, first, by the Roman Council, under Gregory VII, in which Berengarius made his profession of Faith, and retracted his errors.

Secondly: By the Fourth Council of Lateran in 1215 (chapter 1).

Thirdly: By the Council of Trent (Session 13, canon 2), which condemns all who deny this doctrine.

OBJECTIONS AGAINST TRANSUBSTANTIATION ANSWERED

28. The Lutherans say, first, that the body of Christ is locally in the bread as in a vessel, and, as we say, showing a bottle in which wine is contained, “This is the wine,” so, say they, Christ, showing the bread, said: “This is my body”; and hence, both the body of Christ and the bread are, at the same time, present in the Eucharist.

We answer, that, according to the common mode of speech, a bottle is a fit and proper thing to show that wine is there, because wine is usually kept in bottles, but it is not the case with bread, which is not a fit and proper thing to designate or point out a human body, for it is only by a miracle that a human body could be contained in bread.

29. Just to confound one heresy by another, we will quote the argument of the Zwinglians against the Impanation or Consubstantiation of the bread and the body of Christ, invented by the Lutherans. If, say they, the words “This is my body” are to be taken in a literal sense, as Luther says they are, then the Transubstantiation of the Catholics is true. And this is certainly the case. Christ did not say, this bread is my body, or here is my body, but this thing is my body. Hence, say they, when Luther rejects the figurative meaning, that it is only the signification of the body of Christ, as they hold, and wishes to explain the words “this is my body” after his own fashion, that is, this bread is really my body, and not the frame of my body, this doctrine falls to the ground of itself, for if our Saviour intended to teach us that the bread was his body, and that the bread was there still, it would be a contradiction in itself.

The true sense of the words “This is my body,” however, is that the word ‘this’ is to be thus understood: t his, which I hold in my hands is my body. Hence, the Zwinglians concluded that the conversion of the substance of the bread into the substance of the body of Christ should be taken either totally figuratively or totally in substance, and this was Beza’s opinion in the Conference of Monbeliard, held with the Lutherans.

Here, then, is, according to the true dogma, the conclusion we should come to in opposition to Luther. When our Lord says, “This is my body,” he intended that of that bread should be formed either the substance, or the figure of his body; if the substance of the bread, therefore, be not the mere simple figure of Christ’s body, as Luther says, then it must become the whole substance of the body of Jesus Christ.

30. The Lutherans object, secondly, that in the Scripture the Eucharist is called bread, even after the consecration: “One body. . . . who all partake of one bread” (1 Corinth 10:17); “Whosoever shall eat this bread, or drink the Chalice of the Lord unworthily” etc. (1 Corinth 11:27); the bread, therefore, remains.

Such, however, is not the case; it is called bread, not because it retains the substance of bread, but because the body of Christ is made from the bread. In the Scriptures we find that those things which are miraculously changed into other things are still called by the name of the thing from which they were changed, as the water which was changed by Christ into wine, at the marriage of Cana in Galilee was still called water, by Saint John, even after the change: “When the Chief Steward had tasted the water made wine” (John, 2:9); and in Exodus also we read that the rod of Moses changed into a serpent was still called a rod: “Aaron’s rod devoured their rods” (Exodus 7:12).

In like manner, then, the Eucharist is called bread after the consecration, because it was bread before, and still retains the appearance of bread. Besides, as the Eucharist is the food of the soul, it may be justly called bread, as the Manna made by the angels is called bread, that is, spiritual bread: “Man ate the bread of angels” (Psalm 77:25 in the Vulgate, or Psalm 78:25 in the Hebrew).

The sectarians, however, say, the body of Christ cannot be broken, it is the bread alone that is broken, and still Saint Paul says: “And the bread which we break is it not the partaking of the body of the Lord?” (1 Corinth 10:16).

We answer, that the breaking is understood to refer to the species of the bread which remain, but not to the body of the Lord, which, being present in a sacramental manner, cannot be either broken or injured.

31. They object, thirdly, that Christ says, in Saint John: “I am the bread of life” (John, 6:48); still he was not changed into bread.

The very text, however, answers the objection itself. Our Lord says: “I am the bread of life:” now the word “life” shows that the expression must be taken not in a natural but a metaphorical sense. The words “This is my body” must, however, be taken in quite another way; in order that this proposition should be true, it was necessary that the bread should be changed into the body of Christ, and this is Transubstantiation, which is an article of our Faith, and which consists in the conversion of the substance of the bread into the substance of the body of Christ, so that in the very instant in which the words of consecration are concluded, the bread has no longer the substance of bread, but under its species exists the body of the Lord. The conversion, then, has two terms, in one of which it ceases to be, and in the other commences to be, for otherwise, if the bread was first annihilated, and the body then produced, it would not be a true conversion or Transubstantiation.

It is of no consequence to say that the word Transubstantiation is new, and not found in the Scriptures, when the thing signified, that is, the Eucharist, really exists. The Church has always adopted new expressions, to explain more clearly the truths of the Faith when attacked by heretics, as she adopted the word Consubstantial to combat the heresy of Arius.

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Relics of Popery

BY RT. REV. ABBOT HORNE, F.S.A

INDEX

PREFACE

In spite of the Reformation, the old religion still asserts itself in a number of curious ways. After the Catholic Church in this country had been in unbroken communion with the Roman Church for fifteen hundred years and more, the Protestant Reformation took place and the inter-communion ceased. During these centuries it was but natural that customs, words, and phrases descriptive of the current religion, should find a place in the everyday speech of the people. Many of these religious expressions are alive today, but the greater number of those who use them do not realize that they are paying homage to the ancient religion of the land, and are proclaiming the fact that England was once a Catholic country.

The following examples of these “Relics of Popery” still remaining, will illustrate what is meant. There are probably many more, and the list could be made much longer.

Downside Abbey Near Bath

OLD TITLES AND NAMES

RENT DAYS, ETC

The old custom of dating events by Saints’ days went on right up to the Reformation, when the Protestants changed the method to recording the event by the date of the day of the month. Yet many of the old Catholic titles for feasts remain until now. Thus we still have Christmas, Candlemas (February 2nd on which day rents are still paid in the West of England), Michaelmas, Martinmas, and several more. Lady Day (the feast of Our Blessed Lady, March 25th being her Annunciation) is one of the well-known quarter days. There is evidence that the Reformers tried to get rid of these old Popish names, and they spoke of Christtide, Michaeltide, etc., but these new names never became popular, and we still have those used by our Catholic forefathers.

JUDGES’ ROBES

The ancient connection of the Law and the Church is still maintained in many ways. There is, for instance, the custom for Judges of the King’s Bench to wear certain robes on Saints’ days. These robes are really survivals of clerical vestments. The outer robe seems to be a continuation of the cope, that was once worn : the cincture, of the priest’s girdle, and the stole, of the ecclesiastical stole. A Judge’s scarlet robe trimmed with ermine gives way to a purple robe lined with watered silk, during the Easter sitting, such changes of raiment, according to the Church’s seasons, being yet another example of the survival of ancient Catholic customs.

THE TITLES OF THE LAW TERMS

These bespeak a Catholic origin. There is Hilary Term (so named from St Hilary’s feast day. He was Bishop of Poitiers, and died A.D. 368), Easter, Trinity, and Michaelmas terms, and the same titles hold good at the Universities to a certain extent. .

WEDDING BREAKFAST

According to Catholic custom, marriage took place at a Nuptial Mass, and both bride and bridegroom received Holy Communion at the usual time in the celebration. As they would both have been fasting, according to the Church’s law for those who communicate, they needed their breakfast after the ceremony. Their friends would join them at the meal, and hence the origin of the Wedding Breakfast. When both the Nuptial Mass and the law of fasting communion ceased after the Reformation, the breakfast following the ceremony lost its meaning but the custom has lasted on in name until the present time, and of course it is still of practical importance to Catholics.

THE HOLY NUMBER THIRTEEN

An interesting survival of Catholic days is the number thirteen, in spite of the efforts the Reformers made to stamp it out by calling it unlucky. The model in men’s minds from quite early times seems to have been Our Divine Lord and the twelve Apostles, and this number of thirteen was copied in all kinds of ways. A benefactor wanted to found some alms-houses, or hospitals as they were more often called, and it will be found that, as a rule, they were built to the number of thirteen. Thus Hugh II, Abbot of Reading, founded a hospital for thirteen poor men and thirteen poor women, about the year 1190. Richard III founded the Heralds’ College in London, and appointed that the members composing it should number thirteen, as they do to this day. Catherine of Braganza, wife of Charles II, brought a body of Portuguese Franciscans to London in 1662, the community consisting of a Father Guardian and twelve friars. A “baker’s dozen “ as it was called consisted of thirteen loaves or cakes and there is legislation connected with this custom. But an interesting, and in some ways an amusing, survival of thirteen being regarded as a lucky number is to be found in the common custom of putting a hen to sit on thirteen eggs. When a sitting of eggs is advertised for sale, the number is always understood to be thirteen. If this number is really unlucky, as has been made out in modern times, is this number of thirteen eggs put under the hen with the hope that they won’t hatch ? The interest of this thirteen egg custom, with its religious tinge, is, that it should have come down to us intact all the long way from our Catholic past. And it shows also how deeply matters connected with religion, in however small a way, entered into the daily life of our forefathers.

CHURCH BELLS

Another place, where perhaps we might not look for traces of the old religion, is in the inscriptions that were often cast on the outsides of church bells. We find saints’ names in great numbers, such as St Thomas, St Clement, St Augustine, St Ann, St Margaret, St Catherine, followed by the usual prayer “pray for us.” Inscriptions in honour of Our Lady run through endless forms, such as “O pious Jesu, Mary’s Flower,” or “Thou, O Christ, will protect us through the prayers of ThyMother,” “Pray with pious mind for us, O Virgin Mary.” There are endless inscriptions of this kind, up in our old church towers, and the bells are telling of the old faith, every time they are rung.

DISEASES

The complaint known as St Anthony’s Fire, or sometimes Sacred Fire, was erysipelas. St Anthony (A.D. 356) the Hermit, and often called the founder of Monasticism, relates how he was set upon by devils, who beat him so severely that it was thought he would die of his wounds. At his prayer, Our Lord appeared to him and healed him. In the year 1089 when there was a plague of erysipelas in many parts of Europe, it was found that persons who implored St Anthony’s prayers often obtained a cure, and from that time onward the disease came to be called St Anthony’s Fire.

ST VITUS’ DANCE

An extraordinary dancing madness in the 15th century began in Germany at Treves and Cologne and then spread into several other countries. A chapel at Ulm, dedicated to St Vitus, became a place of pilgrimage for those afflicted with this dancing mania ; and this accounts for the Saint’s name being used to describe this curious nervous complaint, which is now known as chorea. The victims flocked by thousands to this chapel of St Vitus and, in memory of this, a procession is still made yearly on Whit Tuesday to this place. St Vitus suffered martyrdom under Diocletian and his feast is kept on the 15th of June.

OLD SAYINGS

THE WEAKEST MUST GO TO THE WALL

Built into the wall of many of our old pre-Reformation churches may frequently be seen a stone bench or seat running down the length of the nave on either side of the church. These stone seats date from a time before there were any wooden seats filling the nave, and hence the congregation stood throughout Mass, kneeling on the floor at the more solemn moments. Old persons and those not in good health naturally found this standing up rather trying and so they made for the stone benches projecting from the walls. It is easy to see from this how the saying arose that “the weakest must go to the wall.” Dr. Charles Cox in his English Church Furniture (p. 261) describes these stone seats, and their use.

TO KICK THE BUCKET

This may not be a very sympathetic or feeling way to describe somebody’s death, but it is an eloquent one when brought into relation with an old Catholic custom. After death, when the body had been laid out, a cross and two lighted candles were placed near it, and in addition to these the holy-water bucket was brought from the church and put at the feet of the corpse. When friends came to pray for the deceased, before leaving the room they would sprinkle the body with holy-water. So intimately therefore was the bucket associated with the feet of deceased persons, that it is easy to see how such a saying as “kicking the bucket “ came about. Many other explanations of this saying have been given by persons who are unacquainted with Catholic custom.

HE HAS NOT A HALFPENNY TO BLESS HIMSELF WITH

To bless oneself is to make the sign of the cross, and the saying refers to the old pious custom of a person doing this with the first piece of money he had received that day. The recipient crossed himself with the coin, before putting it into his pocket. To give some idea as to how very poor a certain man might be, it was enough to say that he did not possess a halfpenny with which he could cross himself. After the change in religion, this custom was given up, and the recipient spat upon the coin before putting it into his pocket, and generally said that he did this for luck.

TO LAUGH IN ONE’S SLEEVE

This expression has probably a monastic origin. The large choir dress, worn over the religious habit, has voluminous sleeves. When some episode occurred in the monastic choir, such as a ridiculous mistake made by a novice when reading something, or an absurd blunder when some simple act had to be done, the large sleeves covering the hands made a convenient place in which to bury a laughing face. As the covering of the face in this way was often adopted in private prayer with the object of shutting out distractions, it was not always easy for an onlooker to say for what purpose the sleeve was being used. Hence “to laugh in one’s sleeve “ became a handy metaphor to describe a laugh that was to be of a quiet, unobtrusive nature.

CANDLEMAS, CANDLE LESS

This saying seems confined to the West Country, and it obviously means that as the daylight begins to increase about the beginning of February (Candlemas, 2nd February) so less candles are needed for light in the house.

SHORT SHRIFT

This saying is often still used, when but little time is allowed to carry something out. It has its origin in the old Saxon word to shrive, meaning to go to confession and receive absolution. When a criminal was going to be executed he was formerly allowed just time enough to make his confession and receive absolution, before he died, and hence the origin of the expression.

CHURCH DAYS

SHROVE TUESDAY

The name Shrove Tuesday is another link with our Catholic past. To shrive or to be shriven are the terms our forefathers used about the Sacrament of Confession. It was the old custom in this country to prepare for Lent by going to confession on either the Monday or Tuesday before Ash Wednesday, and hence this time was often called Shrove Tide. A bell is still rung, by ancient custom, in several of the old parish churches, which is called by the people “The Pancake Bell,” but it is really the bell that used to call them to the church for their Lent confession.

ASH WEDNESDAY

The name given to the first day of Lent is Ash Wednesday. It gets its name from the ceremony of blessing ashes, which are generally made by burning the old palms of the previous year, and placing the ashes on the heads of the faithful when they come up to the altar for the purpose. This day is still so named in many secular calendars, showing how the memory of the ceremony has lasted on.

PALM SUNDAY

On this day, the Sunday before Easter, palms are blessed and distributed to the congregation, in memory of that ride by Our Divine Lord, into Jerusalem, when the people broke off boughs from the trees and strewed them in the road-way. In this country, the old name of palm has clung to the willow with its golden or silver catkins, which are showing in the early spring, and there can be no doubt that these catkin-covered willows were carried by our forefathers on Palm Sunday, when Easter fell at a time that the willow could be used. But as an early or very late Easter would make the use of this kind of palm impossible, yew, from the churchyard yew-tree, was carried instead. In parts of Kent the yew is still called palm, and the quiet little graveyard, embraced by the square of cloister on the south side of Wells Cathedral, is always known as the Palm churchyard. In the middle of it stands a very ancient yew-tree. Throughout the country parts of Ireland, the churchyard yew is always spoken of as the Palm tree, and pieces from it are used on Palm Sunday. The name, Palm Sunday, is certainly a “relic of Popery.”

MAUNDY THURSDAY

The Thursday following Palm Sunday, or the day before Good Friday, still goes by this name. The Maundy, in Catholic England, meant the washing of the feet of a certain number of poor men, on this day, by the reigning Sovereign, and for many ages the ceremony took place in Westminster Abbey. The word Maundy comes from the first latin word in this ceremony, which is Mandatum, and it is a reference to Our Lord’s words that He was giving a new command to the disciples when He carried out the ceremony of washing their feet (St John VIII). Although the royal ceremony of the washing has been given up since the Protestant Reformation, the conclusion of that ceremony, which was the giving to each of the old men who had taken part in it, a gift of money, is still kept up. Each recipient has a purse of new coins given him which are especially minted for the occasion. Hence what is known as the Royal Maundy is a very real survival of a remnant of the old religion, only the washing of the feet and the meal after-wards, when the Sovereign waited on his guests at table, are now omitted.

EASTER SUNDAY

What are known as Easter Cakes, a sort of large biscuit flavoured with cinnamon, appear in many parts of the West Country at Easter time. They were frequently sold at the church door by the sacristan or sexton, as he was more often called, and were doubtless bought by those who had come a long way to make their Easter Communion, and hence would be fasting. The Easter Cake would help them on their walk home again.

THE ROGATION DAYS

The three days before the feast of Our Lord’s Ascension are known as the Rogation Days, and the Litanies of the Saints are sung in procession on these days. What is known as “beating the bounds “ consisted in walking round the boundaries of the parish so that they might be clearly defined and the obligation of supporting the poor in the parish might have its just limits. Advantage was taken of the Rogation processions in times past for defining parish boundaries, and although these processions ceased at the Reformation, we still have a remnant of them in the custom of beating the bounds which goes on in places here and there about the feast of the Ascension.

CORPUS CHRISTI

The old village benefit clubs have now nearly ceased to exist, as the Insurance Act killed most of them. Many of these clubs must have dated back to Catholic times, for not a few kept their annual feast, or meeting-day, on what they now call “Trinity Thursday,” which is of course the feast of Corpus Christi. The benefit club would have joined in the procession of the Blessed Sacrament on that day, which was a holiday, and so the members would have been free to carry out their business meeting afterwards, at which they settled the financial affairs of their club. SOME OLD CUSTOMS

THE GROTTO

The Oxford English Dictionary described this as “a structure of oyster-shells in the form of a grotto, erected and exhibited by London street boys on the 5th of August,” and quotes Chambers’ Book of Days, II. 122. There we are told that a cockle-shell is the badge of St James the Apostle, as one of these shells was often worn by those who had been on pilgrimage to his shrine at Compostela, in Spain. St James’s day was August 5th, but, since the change of style, it is now kept on July 25th. These grottos were built by children in London, with oyster shells, as cockle shells were not to be had, and were placed in some corner of a street. The grotto finished off at the top with a lighted candle and passersby were asked to “please remember the grotto” by giving a penny to keep the candle alight. A writer to The Times (24.4.44) describes seeing a grotto under the arches of Finsbury Park Station, just before the first great war. But the grotto custom seems now to be dying out in London, and it never appears to have existed elsewhere. It is certainly a relic of Catholic days and we may regret that the changes brought about by the two great wars appear to have put an end to the custom.

One can find the remains of another old religious custom at sea. Our sailors still continue the practice of “saluting the quarter-deck “ and the salute is of strict obligation irrespective of rank. It is given to the place where a crucifix always hung in Catholic days.

At Winchester, Wykehamists’ scholars doff their hats in respect to the statue of Our Lady and Child, the Archangel Gabriel, and William of Wykeham, before entering Middle Gate. Commoners do not.

PLACE NAMES

There are still many places, streets, even towns, that have names that have come down to us from Catholic times. In London, one well-known street is Paternoster Row, and it is said to get its name from the large beads on a rosary, which are called Paternosters. Originally, wood turners made these beads here which were often of special design and sometimes highly ornamental. There was also another Paternoster-row and a Little Paternoster-row in Spitalfields, near the former Priory of St Mary.

Not far away we have Ave Maria Lane, Amen Corner, Creed Lane, all of which date from Catholic times. An early writer (Hatton) says that these places had their names from religious houses of Black and Grey Friars, as they were situated between them.

Bethlehem Hospital, or Bedlam, as it is often called for short, was founded in 1247, as a hospital for lunatics, under the care of a religious Order whose head house was near Bethlehem. It still exists to-day as a hospital for those mentally afflicted and so has come down from our Catholic past.

Charing Cross is another well-known name that has a history beginning in 1291, when Eleanor, queen of Edward I, was brought to Westminster Abbey for burial, it being the last of the nine crosses that marked the royal journey to the grave.

BLACKFRIARS

This is now the district between Ludgate Hill and the river Thames. It gets its name from the important monastery of Black or Dominican Friars which was removed to this site from Holborn in 1276. The monastery was destroyed by Henry VIII.

WHITEFRIARS

A part of London extending from Fleet St. to the Thames. There was a convent of Carmelite Friars here in Catholic days, and the white religious habit that they wore, gave its name to the district.

Greyfriars

What is known as Christ’s Hospital was placed on the site of the Greyfriars Monastery by Edward VI. The property stolen from the Greyfriars was used by the King to make this foundation, and the Franciscan monastery was mostly destroyed. Covent Garden

In 1222 most of the present parish of St Paul’s, Covent Garden, was occupied by the garden of Westminster Abbey, and its old title of convent garden has been corrupted to Covent Garden, since the reign of Elizabeth.

Old Catholic titles have continued sometimes, where we should least expect them. The names of the sees in the Established Church are mostly those that were in use before the Reformation. Thus we have, Cantuar : Ebor : London : Oxon : etc., but sees that have been created in Protestant times appear to find it difficult to live up to the old Catholic tradition, and so we get Bradford, Derby, etc.

OLD INN SIGNS

So many Inn signs, scattered up and down the country refer to the old religion, that it is possible to give only a few samples of them. The Lamb and Flag is fairly common, and is of course the Agnus Dei. The Mystery of the Annunciation under the title of the Angel or the Salutation occurs all over the country.

Few signs have undergone so many changes as the Salutation. Originally it represented the angel saluting Our Blessed Lady and this was still occasionally seen in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. In the times of the Commonwealth the Puritans changed it into the Soldier and Citizen and in this form it continued for long after, two citizens being represented as bowing politely to each other. The Salutation Tavern in Billingsgate shows it thus on an old trade token and so does the Salutation Tavern in Newgate Street. At present it is mostly rendered by two hands conjoined as at the Salutation Hotel, Perth, where a label is added with the words “You’re welcome to the city.”

Another sign that was quite as common as the above was the Angel. It originally represented the archangel Gabriel, and was a part of the Annunciation sign. Nearly all the trade tokens that carry this sign, show the angel with a scroll in his hands and we know that the scroll contained the words he used when he spoke to Our Blessed Lady at the Annunciation. The Reformers had less objection to an angel than they had to Our Lady, so they blotted her out on their inn signs and left the angel standing. Among the famous houses with this sign was the one at Islington, and another, still extant in London, is the Angelbehind St Clement’s Church, in the Strand. The Angel Inn at Grantham, once belonging to the Knights Templars, was standing in 1213 when King John held his court there. Not quite so common is a sign called the Flower-pot connected with same. Probably the early Reformers objected to Our Lady and the Archangel on a sign, and painted them out, but they left the vase with the lily in it, which is always shown standing between them. Then the flower went, after a time, the vase being called a flower-pot, and the change so made left nothing to wound the most delicate Protestant conscience.

The Catherine Wheel is another favourite sign. St Catherine was always a very popular saint, and her feast was kept on November 25th. It was in the year 375 that she glorified God by a glorious martyrdom at Alexandria, being torn to pieces by wheels armed with sharp spikes. This sign was frequently changed, after the Reformation, to The Cat and Wheel or even to The Clock Wheel as one may find by an example at Bristol.

St Blase. In parts of the country where wool-combers are employed, an inn sign with the title St Blase may sometimes be seen. The saint was Bishop of Sebaste in Armenia and suffered martyrdom in 316, his body being torn by iron combs and hooks. He is always regarded as the special patron of those engaged in woollen trades, who use tools of this kind in their work.

THE CARDINAL’S HAT

An inn at Windsor and another at Canterbury, among several other places, have the hat of a Roman Cardinal for their sign and it is a distinctly Popish one.

St Peter’s Finger

This sign shows a right hand lifted in blessing, the two smaller fingers being folded down. The inn named St Peter’s Finger is at Lytchett Minster, about five miles from Wareham, Dorset. Although such a sign must have been objectionable to the Reformers, as it clearly meant that it was the Pope who was giving the blessing, yet it has lasted on until the present time, and is frequently a place where the hounds meet. St Peter’s name was often given to inns, and it has nearly always been changed by the Reformers to the Cross Keys, as being less harmful.

PILGRIMS

Inns with this sign are generally near some celebrated shrine, and there are examples of it at Coventry and Glastonbury. The pilgrims often came from afar off, and needed a place of rest and refreshment.

SEVEN STARS

A list of over twenty-five inns with this title can easily be made out, and there are probably many more. One of the oldest is at Withy Grove, Manchester, and it was in existence before the year 1356. While it probably often referred to the constellation known as the Great Bear, it seems that it also meant the seven starred celestial crown shown in old paintings and carvings, as being worn in heaven by Our Blessed Lady.

An inn sign that certainly takes us back to Catholic times is The Three Kings. There was at least one inn in London, at Bucklersbury, with this sign, and it was a favourite with the silk mercers, who traded in all kinds of rich materials that they brought from Cologne.

Bleeding Heart , Hatton Garden, London. The author of Quaint Signs of Old Inns (G. J. Monson-Fitzjohn) says that although this was the crest of the Douglas family and has often been used as a sign, yet in the case of this inn it “is more likely that it was called after the Church of the Bleeding Heart, which of course refers to the Blessed Virgin Mary.”

Surely inn signs, up and down our country, join in bearing witness that it was once a Catholic land and in communion with the Roman Church!

FLOWERS WITH RELIGIOUS NAMES

As our wild flowers grow in country places, it is only natural that their old names would last on among simple country folk, being handed down from generation to generation. Let us take first those relating to Our Blessed Lady :-We have

Our Lady’s Slipper (Cypripedium calceolus),

Our Lady’s Mantle (Alchemilla vulgaris),

Our Lady’s Fingers (Anthyllis vulneraria),

Our Lady’s Smock (Cardamine pratensis),

Our Lady’s Tresses (Spiranthes),

Our Lady’s Bedstraw (Galium verum),

Our Lady’s Thistle (Carduus Marianus), and

Our Lady’s Seal, the black bryony (Tamus communis).

To this list of flowers bearing Our Lady’s name may be added a few among those whose titles have come down to us from old Catholic days. There is the Passion-flower, the Marigold, St John’s Wort, Sweet St William, as it was called in the old herbals, but the saint has dropped out of the name now, and Canterbury Bells which are in flower about the beginning of July. The flowers were associated with the pilgrimages being made for the great feast of the Translation of St Thomas the martyred archbishop of Canterbury, on July 7th, when the bells of the churches there were probably very much in evidence.

WE SEEM TO HAVE ONLY ONE INSECT THAT BEARS A RELIGIOUS NAME, AND THIS IS THE LADYBIRD. ON THE CONTINENT ITS NAME IS OFTEN CLOSELY LINKED WITH THAT OF OUR BLESSED LADY.

Once again we have testimony, this time from the “lilies of the field,” as to what was the old religion of England.

CHILDREN’S GAMES AND TOYS

In certain children’s games, memories of the Catholic past have lasted on. Hopping and, while so doing, pushing with the foot a flat stone or piece of pottery, into squares marked out on the ground, in some parts of the country is called Criss-Cross, which is obviously a corruption of Christ’s cross.

A toy that has a rather unfortunate history, and is still quite common, is the Jack-in-the-Box. The first violent Reformers gave this title to the Blessed Sacrament, and even the Protestant government of the day objected to it, and passed a law (12 Nov.,1547) forbidding “such vile and unseemly words.” The writer, as a child, had a well-made Jack-in-the-Box to play with, and on its mahogany lid were the words, Hocus Pocus, painted in white capital letters. He could get no explanation as to what these words meant, but he was told to say them as he pressed the spring and then the figure would jump out. As Hocus Pocus is a parody of Hoc est Corpus, the holy words of Consecration used in the Mass, the blasphemous application of this toy to one of the greatest mysteries of the Christian faith is obvious and it is also an example of the religion of the Reformers.

A rhyme the children used to sing, beginning with the words,

“Queen Ann, Queen Ann, she sits in the sun, As fair as a lily, as white as a swan,” was of course, originally, “St Ann, St Ann,” etc. No one could apply these pretty words to the rather stout and dull old lady who once reigned over us, and for whom we never seem to have had much admiration. There was a great devotion to St Ann in Catholic England and as her feast falls in the midst of the summer (26th July) she was said to “sit in the sun.” The Christian name “Mary Ann “ or “Marian” derived from it was a favourite, at one time, as it combined Our Blessed Lady and her mother St Ann.

CAT’S CRADLE

The cradle made by children with a long loop of string twisted round their hands and called a cat’s cradle does not seem to have much sense, as cats don’t lie in cradles. The words are really Cratch-cradle. A match is the old word for a manger so that the words mean, “manger-cradle,” and they refer to the manger at Bethlehem, which was Our Divine Lord’s cradle.

FOODS WITH POPISH ORIGIN

Mince-pies at Christmas at the present time are round in shape, but the older form was oblong. Selden (d. 1654), in his Table Talk, when speaking of Christmas, says : “The Coffin of our Christmas-Pies, in shape long, is in imitation of the Cratch” (manger). In 1644 the Puritans forbade the observance of Christmas. Soldiers were ordered to break into houses to see that no food such as was formerly eaten at Christmas was used. Plum-pudding and mince-pies were amongst the things forbidden, and we may therefore rank them as coming down to us from Catholic times.

PANCAKES

The reason for eating pancakes on Shrove Tuesday is probably because eggs being among the kinds of food that were not allowed during Lent, or perhaps during those days in Lent when what was called a “black fast” had to be kept, in as much as pancakes required many eggs for their making, they were a way of using eggs up. The day before Lent was a sort of good-bye to them, until they appeared again as “Easter-eggs.”

HOT CROSS BUNS

It is somewhat doubtful whether Hot Cross buns were provided in pre-Reformation days as no direct evidence to that effect can be found. On the other hand it is unlikely that they were introduced by the Reformers who disliked the sign of the cross and condemned special foods that were customary at particular seasons, as related above when speaking of mince-pies. As early fasting laws forbade the use of milk and butter on certain days, it seems quite probable that a plain kind of bread may have been sold on Good Friday, made without the forbidden ingredients, and Hot Cross buns may be its descendant. Our English Good Friday buns were originally quite plain, with perhaps a little spice added to them. It was not until about 1840 that currants first appeared in them.

THE MONTH OF MAY AND OUR BLESSED LADY

It is natural to think that May devotions must have come down to us from Catholic times, but they certainly have not.

May devotions in their present form originated in Rome at the end of the eighteenth century, where Father Latonia of the Roman Jesuit College, in order to counteract the infidelity and immorality that he found among the students, made a vow, to devote the month of May to Mary. The devotions in this College spread to other Jesuit schools, and from them were taken on in various countries. May devotions were brought into England by Father Gentili, the Italian Father of Charity, who was doing such a wonderful work in this country between 1840 and 1850.

May-day, as a public holiday, and dancing round the May-pole were certainly very old English customs, and many of our pre-Reformation poets-Chaucer in particular-have written in praise of the month of May, but none of them has mentioned Our Blessed Lady as being in any way connected with it. All these May-day celebrations seem to have been in honour of the goddess Flora.

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Religion Is An Opiate

BY REV. WILFRED G. HURLEY, C.S P

INDEX

RELIGION IS AN OPIATE

It is said that the heart of Russia is a red square. What is meant is, of course, that gigantic plot of land in the center of Moscow where lies the embalmed body of the dead Lenin. Where maneuver the gigantic armies of atheistic Russia under the sinister eyes of the purging and liquidating Stalin, “the glorious army which has never lost a parade.”

Ironically it was here, in the days gone by, that there had stood for centuries the most sacred shrine of Russia-the shrine of the Iberian Virgin, the Queen of Peace. Here thousands of pilgrims from all the Russias would gather in intercession, day and night imploring the Mother of God to intercede with her Divine Son for the healing of their infirmities and sicknesses.

But today on the blank wall facing this chapel, the Soviet overseers have painted in giant letters that detestable sneer of Karl Marx:”Religion, the opium of the people.”

The first reaction of the average Catholic is to shrug his shoulders at this as derisively he says to himself, “What foolishness. How could this man write such rot. And how could intelligent men accept such an inane statement?” Then with typical common sense the average Catholic will say:”Well, why bother with such drivel!”

STALIN INTERPRETS MARX

And such would be the wise thing to do, were it not for the fact, incredible as it seems, that this is one of the fundamental teachings in Russia today. A teaching that is penetrating deeply into the hearts of over a hundred and sixty million people in Russia itself. And millions of other people in other countries who have been ensnared by the false glitter of Communism. Thus it is advisable to consider this catch phrase for what it is worth.

It is pretty generally argued that Karl Marx meant something entirely different from what is the popular interpretation of the phrase today. Be that as it may, Karl Marx is now dead, and whatever he did mean when he wrote the phrase will never be known. And just how large the religious aspect of life loomed in his economic theories will never be known either. Nevertheless, “religion, the opium of the people” has now assumed a definite meaning and interpretation for the followers of Stalin.

Briefly it is this: Religion is an opiate to numb the faculties of men against the injustices all about them. To make them content with a miserable state in life. To accept oppression, grinding poverty, lack of the comforts of life, and misery. Religion accomplishes this, they say, by preaching that this is God’s Will for the individual man. That men are to forget such things in this life by laboring only for the reward of heavenly delight in the world to come. In brief, religion is dope!

THE TRUE CONCEPT OF RELIGION

But if there is anything that religion is not, it is not this. The very nature of religion contradicts such rot. Religion comes from the Latin words “re” and “ligio,” meaning to bind and rebind. Hence, religion is that bond which binds a man’s soul to his God. And rebinds God back to the soul of that man. Not one man in ten thousand is an atheist in the true sense of the word. Only a fool has said in his heart, “There is no God.” Then why the argument against religion? Because of the prevalence in the world today of loose talking. And still worse, loose thinking. And the still worse, no thinking at all. So we have the vast number of people whose concept of religion is utterly vague and indefinite. Unfortunately, they confuse certain “isms” with religion itself.

FALSE PHILOSOPHIES

For instance, people speak of the Mohammedan religion. But Mohammedanism is not religion, it never was. It is simply a fatalistic philosophy. It probably is, in truth, an opium. To anything and everything the Mohammedan replies: “It is the decree of Allah.” Nothing can be done about it. Whether it be pestilence, or disease, or suffering, or poverty. Be resigned and accept it.

It is the same with Hinduism and Buddhism. With their philosophic teachings of re-incarnation. Men are born, and reborn into this world, to suffer or be rewarded according to the consequences of a former life. Everything is set and fixed. There is no relief. All things are decreed. Certainly, a most vicious fatalism. Man-made philosophies at their very worst.

It was also true, in the centuries gone by, when men left the true faith of God to found their own churches, only to wander into this same error and falsehood. Error soon contradicts itself. It leads to bigger and greater errors. Out of the dilemma of contradicting errors soon arose “predestination.” It seemed an easy way to escape the logic of Catholic teachings. Everything is predestined from eternity. Either men are saved or they are not. If they are of the elect then it matters not how they sin, they shall be saved regardless. If they are not of the elect, then it matters not how good a life they lead. No matter how straight a path, it avails them nothing. They are condemned and that is all there is to it. A cheap philosophy for men to rid themselves of the discipline for just and moral living. A subterfuge for men to rid themselves of responsibility for sin.

CATHOLICISM A LIVING SPARK

It is only natural that confusing such fatalistic philosophies with religion should naturally have surrounded religion with the calumny and contempt that unfortunately encircle it today among the ignorant and unthinking. But to the thinking man, the educated man, the man who knows the history and the truths concerning the Catholic faith and its teachings, the fact stands out with super-abundant proof that religion, instead of being an opium, is the exact opposite.

For the Catholic Faith is no fatalistic philosophy. It is no man-made scheme of philosophy. The Catholic Church is the living, visible, teaching organization founded by Jesus Christ to bring to mankind the God-given truths of life, death and eternity.

This truth and the contingent truths of the existence of God, the Divinity of Christ, and the establishment of His Church, have been proven again and again.

But what we are interested in right here and now is, is the Catholic religion the opium of the people? Does it meet in any way the popular concept of this phrase?

The facts of the case are that the Catholic Church has not, does not, and never will take her stand otherwise than by the side of the poor. Injustice, poverty, oppression, and abuse, it fights with all the force of its very being. The voice of history declares that the Church from the time of Christ to the present day has been persecuted and oppressed because she would not keep silent. But how could the Church do anything else, when it considers the life of its Founder?

JESUS CHRIST

At the very outset of His public ministry did He not declare in His synagogue: “The spirit of the Lord is upon Me, wherefore He bath anointed Me to preach the Gospel to the poor, He hath sent Me to heal the contrite of heart; to preach deliverance to the captives, and sight to the blind, to set at liberty them that are bruised, to preach the acceptable year of the Lord, and the day of reward.” An opiate?

Did Christ meekly accept the abuses so rampant in His time? Read the story of the Cleansing of the Temple. When with His scourges He drove out of the Holy Place men who were engaged there in dishonest dealings. And remember this was at the very beginning of His public life.

Of course, the future life must be a legitimate concern of any religion worthy of the name. Its primary and first concern. But it is just as certain that a true religion of God cannot have that as its only concern. Men live in the present life.

Here again we must have recourse to Jesus Christ, Himself. Surely, the greater part ofHis teachings concern man’s life in this world. He came to bring to mankind the truth about life, death, and eternity. And His teachings concerning this earthly life are placed by Him as first and foremost.

A CHARTERED COURSE

Probably the best known of C hrist’s teachings is that beautiful “Sermon on the Mount.” There is no question that here is contained God’s expressed plan for His people as to the life they should lead on earth. Certain it is that there is scarcely a word in it about life after death. Rather, it is a very practical outline of how men should live their lives here in this world. We are not certain whether it was given all at once or whether it is the gathered-up fragments of what Jesus said during His public ministry. All we know definitely, is that it is the Word of Christ. The fundamental outline of His teachings concerning this life. And as such is the command of Almighty God.

How can one read the “Sermon on the Mount,” and then assert that Christ’s message was opium for the people? It makes one realize more than ever, the perversity of eyes that will not see, and ears that will not hear.

TIME AND ETERNITY

It was a revolutionary teaching then. It is revolutionary now. It utterly disrupts any fatalistic philosophy or vicious complacency men may have regarding this boasted modern civilization. Inevitably the future life is mentioned in it. Because after all, life is short and eternity is-well, eternity. And from the very nature of life, men realize and must realize, that this life can only be a preparation for the eternal life which is to come. For inevitably the future life is affected. It must be a reward or punishment.

Hence Jesus was speaking in the present tense. He was simply but forcibly telling men as plainly as He could, that if they live this life, as they should live it, then they have nothing to worry about concerning the eternal life to come.

DEFENDER OF MAN’S RIGHTS

And, on the other hand, He drove home as vehemently and strongly as possible that there are sins which cry even to Heaven for vengeance! What are these sins? They are: Murder! Oppression of the poor! Defrauding laborers of their wages!

Furthermore, He declared God shall hold guilty as accessories to such sins not only the partakers of these crimes, but all who consent, who conceal, provoke, praise, keep silent, or who defend them.

Finally, was Christ asking men to be content with injustices, misery and exploitation when He cried to the leaders of His time, “Hypocrites! Ye fools!Ye generation of vipers!”? Nor was Christ content to simply cry out in words, but fitting His actions to His words, He so infuriated the exploiters of His time that they could do nothing else but murder Him. For murder has always been the refuge of tyrants in power. As it was then, always has been, so it is now. Although today, for the sake of politeness, it is called purging and liquidating.

The Crucifixion of Christ is the unanswerable proof that His religion was no opium for the people. He was crucified in the most frightful agony because He was challenging injustice, poverty, oppression and exploitation of the “common people.” He would not keep silent. Hence, they put Him out of the way.

FOLLOWING CHRIST

But has the Catholic Church followed steadfastly in the footsteps of Christ? Has She held aloft the banner of Christ as the Leader of the poor, oppressed, and exploited?

The Catholic knows the answer is affirmative. Nineteen hundred years ago when Christ founded this living, visible, teaching organization and sent it forth in His Name, He gave to mankind three solemn promises. “And I say to thee: That thou art Peter; and upon this rock I will build my Church, and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it.” “And I will ask the Father, and he shall give you another Paraclete, that he may abide with you forever. The Spirit of truth, whom the world cannot receive, because it seeth him not, nor knoweth him: but you shall know him; because he shall abide with you, and shall be in you.” “And behold I am with you all days, even to the con-summation of the world.” Believing that Christ was God, the Catholic knows His promises were kept. Even to the smallest detail.

A DIVINE CHURCH

Individuals might go astray. Christ even foretold this. But nevertheless, the Church, which is His living, visible, teaching organization, would carry on His Name, with His powers, to bring inviolate down through all ages His message to mankind.

Hence Catholics know that the Church has not and cannot fail. The Omnipotent God, the Eternal Truth, has solemnly promised that it would not.

But what about the non-Catholics who do not have this assurance of faith?

Sometimes uninformed and unthinking men make the thoughtless snap-judgment remark that the Church and Christianity have failed. Or they may repeat the biting words so often quoted:”Christianity has not failed, because it has never even been tried.” But what then is the answer to them? What is the truth? To obtain the truth one has only to scan the pages of history! Even in histories written by enemies of the Church the truth clearly stands out in bold relief. THE CATHOLIC CHURCH HAS NOT FAILED CHRIST.

THE CHURCH IN HISTORY

When the Catholic Faith began its work of bringing the truths of life and death and eternity to mankind, history tells us that the Church stood face to face with a vast slave state. A pagan world in which sixty per cent of the population were slaves in every sense of the word. True, many of them were well treated but the vast majority were not. They had no legal freedom or status. Into the amphitheater of battle came the Catholic Church crying forth as the fundamental basis of truth that all men were created by nature equal. In the face of persecution the Church would not and could not say anything else, although the soil of the Roman Empire ran red with the blood of her martyrs. But by their martyrdom, slavery was doomed. Not immediately abolished, it is true. But steadily and surely counteracted and overcome.

Then history records the gigantic struggle against the Barbaric oppression.

Then the fight against the fatalistic domination of Mohammed.

But, scarcely had the smoke of this battle died away when there began the life and death combat against the exploitation of the feudal system.

Battle followed battle! War followed war! The forces of aggression, exploitation, greed and oppression are never idle. But always is the Church valiantly and steadily battling against them.

Does this picture of history carry any suggestion of doping the people?

History emphatically tells us that down through the ages, without ceasing, the eternal truths have been indefatigably proclaimed and upheld by the Church.

But the battle must always rage. Thus, scarcely before the Church could recover from the exhausting combat of feudalism there came the sixteenth century with its new economic and philosophic upheaval. Undermining moral values. Driving the supernatural from the life of the people. Throwing mankind into a new kind of slavery. Industrialism came into being. Capitalism was born. The Church stood fighting but all seemed lost.

AN INSPIRED LEADER

But instead of losing heart, the Catholic religion relying upon the promises of Christ, severely disciplining itself, came back into the fray. Fearlessly she proclaimed justice to a world that had lost all sense of justice. Proclaimed the human brother-hood of man to a world which had become individualistic to the extreme. Fiercer and fiercer came the struggle until it was climaxed with that great encyclical of Leo XIII.

May we take from this encyclical some extracts and let the reader find out for himself just how much of an opiate the Catholic religion is? Just how much it would numb the faculties of man to injustice, poverty and submission. Here is a plan to think over. Not a five year plan. But a plan for all time.

Concerning Labor:It is honorable to earn one’s living by labor. Every worker should have his rights as a human and a Christian, respected by his employer. On no account can any human be regarded as a mere chattel slave or instrument of making money.

Concerning the Family: The state does not possess the right to exercise control over family affairs.

Concerning Social Struggle: The worker unprotected by guilds as in former times, has been victimized by his employer and by the greed of infected competition and usury. The great masses of the people are thus enslaved by the wills of a few men.

Concerning Ownership of Property: Ownership of property should be as widespread as possible. Wealth should not be confined to a few hands at the expense of the welfare of many. There should be a more equitable distribution of property.

Concerning Governments: Governments should be constituted without involving wrong to humans and without violating the rights of the Church. Two powers, civil and ecclesiastical, have been appointed by God over the human race, each within its way supreme. In case of a conflict between the two, it should be remembered that all powers are ordained by God.

Concerning the Purpose of the State: To make the lives of working people more comfortable. To enable them to make some provision for themselves, and to lead lives as human beings and Christians.

Finally, Concerning Liberty of Speech and the Press: Within the bounds of moderation, such liberty should be the right of every man.

Leo’s great encyclical startled the world. Capital and labor began to hesitate and to think. But at this time science brought into practical use electricity in its multiform applications. Quickly followed the auto-mobile with its imperious demands for new roads, and the multiple necessities of a new and giant industry. The tremendous resources of Australia began to develop. Production raced to a new incredible height. The World War reached forward to take mankind in its fiery grasp.

IN OUR DAY

Then came the debacle. We are all familiar with its disaster. Russia embraced Communism. Striving for perfection of a Slave State. Italy striving to avoid the horror of Communism became Fascist. Germany dreading Communistic evil became Nazi. In Australia came the gaunt specters of the depression. Unemployment, hunger, and want.

And what about the Church? Persecuted and martyred as always. Lashed at the pillar in Italy, crowned with thorns in Germany, crucified in agony in Russia. Would it dare to speak?

ANOTHER COURAGEOUS POPE

Into the teeth of an antagonistic and hating world, the aged Pontiff in Rome flung a new encyclical. And mankind gasped at its fearless wisdom and power. What did Pius XI say?

Leo’s words were confirmed. Without God and obedience to God’s teachings there can be no right ordering of society. The injustice and irrationality of the Capitalistic system is bitterly flayed. Communism, Fascism, and Nazism are condemned! The poor are oppressed and suffering. And this must not be.

Once again, if any man thinks the Catholic religion is the opium of the people, let him read the encyclicals of Pius XI. The “still, small voice” thundered above the roar of the world which would stifle it. For here and here alone, is salvation and peace and security for the fearful and trembling nations. Thinking men begin to realize that in religion lies the only hope for mankind. That unless the Church fights on, and unless men listen, heed, and obey it, it is the end of humanity and civilization. And well they know it.

The question is answered!

Clearly! Definitely! Completely!

As in the time of the early Apostles, the Church stands openly and immovably on the side of the people. Fearlessly it contends and fights oppression, greed and the inhumanity of wealth, brute force, and hatred.

It is undeniable. The Catholic religion with the Popes as its head, from the time of Christ to the present time, has stood for the Divine qualities of justice and mercy in human relations.

If this be opium of the people, then the Catholic religion gladly admits her guilt.

AUSTRALIA IN THE FUTURE

Inevitably, the question narrows it-self down to this. We in Australia, what part will religion play in our future life? After all, religion is a God-given instinct. And as such, it can never be conquered. Inevitably, man will return to religion. The ever-present visitation of death in our midst. The universal admission that virtue is its own reward is not sufficient for the moral living of this life. The briefness of this life and the instinct of a new life beyond the grave. All these and many other factors imperiously demand the reason why of our existence. The ultimate purpose of life. And these in turn demand the Revelation of the Almighty, Eternal God Whose own we are.

Surely, no Australian wants an atheistic government in control. Today we are pretty much familiar with the conditions in Nazi Germany and Communistic Russia. Do we want the same thing in our country? God forbid! Sudden arrests in the middle of the night! Innocent people held months without trial! Concentration camps! Men condemned by tribunes without opportunity to know of what they are accused or who is the accuser! Terror inspiring more terror! Favoritism! Diabolical cruelty! Fiendish punishments and deaths!

OUR RELIGIOUS HERITAGE

Because we have been a deeply religious nation, whether we like it or not, Christian environment and Christian principles have more or less molded our lives. Thus we view the present setup in Russia and Germany with unmitigated horror and nauseating revolt. To the average Australian, cold-blooded cruelty and the fiendish, diabolical torturing of other men is as foreign as the Voodooistic cruelty of the African jungles.

What has made us sane, kind, neighborly people? The answer is our religion! And our religious fore-bearers!

NOT FOR AUSTRALIA

Down through the ages history points out only too clearly that religion is the only force, the only power, that prevents men from sinking to the level of beasts. And even lower than that. When anti-religious forces prevail even for a short time, what is the result? Bloodshed and cruelty! Purges and liquidations! The destroying of all decency, morals and self-respect! Womanhood sinking down to the lowest level! Woman becoming the chattel of the State! Only an instrument to satisfy lust and a bearer of children! Suspicion, dread, and fear in the place of peace, security, and true happiness! For the less favored in these nations, life becomes a living hell. And even for those in power, unless they are wholly depraved, happiness can be only the happiness of jungle beasts.

For the belief in God, the duty to worship God, is an instinct in every human soul. And when man suppresses this God-given instinct, the end is bound to be one of remorse and disaster. It has never happened otherwise. It never can be different. From depravity to depravity. From cruelty to more cruelty. From deceit to treachery. From treachery to betrayal. With the realization that every day brings death closer. With the fear of death that only those who fear annihilation can fear death.

If there is any lasting peace, contentment, or real, true happiness to be had living in this way, where can it possibly be found? Surely, those who have lived such lives have failed to show even the slightest semblance of inspiring happiness or thrilling contentment.

FOR MAN’S HAPPINESS

In the future the Catholic Church will continue as it has in the past. Teaching the real brotherhood of man. Not the common brutehood of a race. Insisting on the truth. The truth acknowledged in the heart of every man, but the only solution for the world crisis is brotherly love. The brotherly love which is simply a reflection of the Charity of God.

Surely, thinking men realize that this can never be brought about by the world’s weapon of war. The rolling of the battle drums, the barking of cannons, and the staccato of machine-guns are not a solution. Rather they are an aggravation of inhumanity instead.

In the last analysis, calmly and cooly reasoned out, men must realize that the only way by which they may build a peaceful and happy world is through the religious teachings of sacrifice and brotherly love.

GOOD WILL TOWARD ALL

Sacrifice! That is, the voluntary sacrifice of the individual for the sake of the community. In the sacrifice of the class for the welfare of the nation. In the sacrifice of a nation for the benefit of a race. In the sacrifice of a race for the welfare of mankind.

Brotherly love! One hesitates to use the world “love.” So many use this word today meaning only shallow sentimentality. But it was no shallow sentiment of which Christ spoke. Love, in the words of Christ, meant to have a good will. A good will that could not be discouraged. For as long as men are men, and that means until the end of time, there must be inevitably friction and conflict. For all men are inclined to be thoughtless and heedless at times. Even the saints had this failing. Thoughtless words, actions, omissions cause untold anger, misery and suffering. Sometimes even the best of intentions and words and actions may be interpreted wrongly. The fatigues of life, the perversity of the human mind, the ravages of sickness, mental and physical, and the countless other individualities of each and every man, woman and child are bound to irritate and annoy. Bound to cause, sometimes at least, resentment and hasty anger. Then this brotherly love, this exercise of good will, is put to the test. It is thus with individuals. It is thus with nations.

Then too, the inequality in conditions of life, the chasm between the rich and poor, poverty and squalor, disease and crime. They will always be with us until the pride of life is overcome by sacrifice and love along the lines inculcated by the infinite wisdom of God through Christ.

WHAT RELIGION GIVES

Religion insists on taking things as they are. Religion brings out that truth so oftentimes overlooked that men are human beings. Not machines, slaves or chattels. For God has created men with intelligence, reason and common sense. And giving men these powers, man is sup-posed to use them to the best of his ability.

Good government is no exception. Whether it be of individuals, communities, or nations. There must be order and law. Naturally there could be no power of ruling unless there could be enforcement of this law on the will of others. Without government we should have anarchy. But the only kind of government and ruling that religion will commend is the rule of justice tempered by mercy. A government ruling without aggression. Guiding without driving. Bringing into line the unruly and self-willed without force or cruelty. A government guiding and ruling without conquest and brutal domination. A government, in other words, which realizes as religion teaches, that all power is from God.

But even then, as long as religion is religion, must the Church do its duty. Demanding for men their rights, protecting them to the best of its ability from any tyranny, oppression and brutality. Always in the past has religion been forced to fight. Always in the past has religion won. Because oppression, greed, exploitation and aggression are of men. While religion is from God.

Attilla and Leo! Emperor Henry and Pope Gregory! Napoleon and Pius VII! Bismarck and Pius IX! Always the fight has been to the finish, but justice always won.

True it is, infinite patience is sometimes required to realize this. The patience of years, of decades, even of generations, to realize that religion will fight on until victory is achieved.

So, too, in the future. Religion will win in the end. That much is certain.

Inevitably, religion must lose some battles, but rest assured, it will always win the final one.

Nihil Obstat:

Arthur J. Scanlan, S.T.D. Censor Librorum

Imprimatur:

@ Francis Spellman, D.D., Archbishop of New York, 8/11/1940

********

Religion Is Reason!

REV. WILFRED G. HURLEY, C.S.P

INDEX

FOREWORD

One of the most powerful, able and influential men in the world today. A man honored, respected and admired by all, was asked: “To what do you attribute your unparalleled success?”

He replied: “To one thing alone! I have never deceived myself! I face the facts!”

You have been created! You exist!

You live!

Why?

What is the purpose of it all?

RELIGION IS REASON!

Life comes, life passes, life departs. As an actor on a stage you make your entrance. Act your part. Speak your lines, and step out. One and all, passing down through the ages. A vast procession. A cavalcade. Marching onward. Never pausing. Never returning. From infinity to infinity. From eternity to eternity. From the abyss of nothingness to the realm of endless ages.

It is the infinite plan of God coming into existence. His omnipotence shaping and molding the workings of His infinite mind. With a lavishness that seems incredible. With an immensity that is colossal. Even with a seeming wastefulness that beggars description. Yet, even in the most minute detail His infinite beauty, order, and sublimity shine forth. With a power, a might, and a glory that stagger your comprehension.

You cannot understand. You cannot conceive.

Your petty, puny, earth-bound mind is only too hopelessly inadequate.

Yet, you are a part of this plan. You know it.

You exist. You live. Your Creator, God, has brought you out from absolute nothingness.

You had nothing to say about it. Certainly, you did not deserve this priceless gift of existence. And not only that. He might have created you an instinct-guided animal; He might have created you as a tree, or a blade of grass; He might have made you as a lifeless rock; even that would have been an inestimable gift.

But He has created you a human being. Thinking! Reasoning! Loving! Choosing your own destiny! The lord and master of all this creation. All creation! Yours to use. Yours to enjoy. Yours to serve you. You are the living child of the living God!

Why is it thus with you?

Why is this priceless gift of existence given you? And why this exalted place in His scheme of creation? Your reason tells you that there is only one explanation. It is because of the infinite goodness and love of this Infinite God.

But, if God loves you enough to reveal Himself to you in creation, and to reveal His essential desires by His voice speaking to your conscience; if God loved you enough to call you out of nothingness to give you such a supreme place in His plan of creation, it is only reasonable that He would make a revelation-tell you what it was all about. The Truths of Life, Death and Eternity. And how you should live in accordance with these truths. If necessary God would perform miracles that you could thus know and reach Him. The very fact that you exist, as you are, makes this indisputably true.

For God thus to reveal Himself is not only fitting because of God’s goodness, but it is necessary on account of the na- ture with which God has endowed each and every one of us.

AN INBORN CRAVING

Every man has a constant, natural craving to know something of God. To know something of his own destiny and the plan of life. But above all, every man has an inborn craving for happiness, by which we really mean the craving for God Himself. The greatest intellects of the world have recognized this. Thus, St. Augustine, fifteen hundred years ago, could cry out:

“Our hearts were made for Thee, O God,

And restless must they be Until, O God, this grace accord

Until they rest in Thee.”

God wants you for Himself-and you must go to Him! But how can you do this? There is only one way. God Himself must teach you. He must reveal Himself to you. That God is perfect Love, precludes any different conclusion. Is there any other way by which you know God has made a revelation of Himself to mankind?

Do not the trials and sorrows of this life reveal Him? Was it not really a happy thought of the poet who wrote: “Sweet are the uses of adversity”?

If there were no nights, but only perpetual days, you could never have reached any conception of the immensity and grandeur of the universe. You could only see the blue vault of Heaven. You could only know the sun. Could have a dim idea of the moon, perhaps, but no more. And then, God ordains that darkness envelop the earth . . . the Heavens are revealed!

On some little hilltop as in a watch-tower, you take in all the vastness and sublimity of the universe. You see revealed the omnipotence and the glory of the Infinite God.

Thus would the sorrows of life do their part to reveal Him to you.

No life is free from evil-whether the evil comes in the form of sickness, affliction or suffering. Or from the greatest source of misery, “Man’s inhumanity to man.”

WHAT IS IT ALL ABOUT?

No man living, but has asked himself the question: “I wonder what it is all about?” Life seems so hard. And yet so futile. What are you here upon earth for anyway? Surely, not just to work, and work hard for a span of years. To raise others for a life just as hard and trying. And at the end of your life. old age with its mockery. The illness of life, the sickness and the suffering. The dread of poverty and all that it implies and at the end, horrible death, dreaded as only those who dread annihilation can dread it.

“Time passes and the things of the world pass with it.” And with the passing, you too. Every hour you acquire more and more the characteristics that make you, give you, the name “old.” Every hour is bringing you closer to that moment when you must follow Christ into the valley of the unknown. Every minute is pushing you relentlessly on and on. Frantically as you strive, you cannot bring back a single second.

Surely, an infinitely good God could not have placed you here on this earth without revealing to you why you must undergo these things, the purpose of it all. The reason why you are here.

Need it not necessarily be that every hour of wretchedness and want, every day of suffering and misery, every fight against passion and sin, every struggle for virtue and holiness is a step up that ladder of Jacob which leads from earth to the eternal Kingdom of God?

Then, too, you seek for happiness. And who does not? But who has ever found it? Can pleasure, gaiety, wealth, dissipation, song, and dance, wine and mirth, make you happy? No! They fail and fail utterly. Hopelessly! Looking down the vista of the ages you see the vast procession of mankind, all in one voice testifying that earthly things cannot fill up that void in man’s heart.

For life in its stern reality is a pilgrimage of sorrow. We come into this world only through pain. We depart in a similar manner. Centuries ago it was written of this world that we are here to be tried as gold is tried in a furnace fire. Tried and tested by fire until all that is dross is burned away. No man is, ever has been, or ever will be, an exception to this. Why is this so? What is the object of it all?

Picture a wanderer on a pathless desert! Freezing with cold. Burning with thirst. Lashed by the storms of the merciless elements. Not knowing whence he came, or whither he goes. With the heavens above blacker than night. And in his suffering and want. in his wretchedness and misery, no reassuring hope. No consolation.

Thus you would be, if God did not reveal Himself.

Your reasoning powers, your thinking ability, your faculties for considering the future, would be as just so many diabolical instruments of torture.

Your whole being cries out: God must have made a revelation!

THREE POSSIBILITIES

In the world, however, there are only three possible revelations: Buddhism. Mohammedanism, and Christianity. But Buddha never even claimed to teach anything about God. Buddhism is religion with God left out. His idea seems to have been not so much to seek happiness as it was to avoid unhappiness. This was to be done by suppressing all desires. To let neither love, nor vanity. nor ambition, nor any earthly desire. have place in the heart. In other words. if you suppress all your desires you would never wish for anything. If you would never wish or desire anything, you would be content. After all-a teaching not so very brilliant. Furthermore, in many of its teachings, Buddhism directly contradicts reason.

There are some good things in Buddhism. But this is to be expected. For there are some teachings in it that are simply the teachings of the natural law written on every human heart. But in justice to Buddha, he really never claimed anything else. Nor pretended that his teachings had a divine origin.

MOHAMMEDANISM

Mohammedanism by its very teachings disqualifies itself as being the revelation of God. It does teach the immortality of the soul and the resurrection of the body, but its teachings concerning Heaven are so carnal and beastly that it disgusts any decent-thinking man. It openly caters to the lowest passions of man. Its “Paradise” with the worldly and cheaply sensual pleasures promised in the so called “world-to come,” flatly contradict the spirituality and immortality of the soul.

And while Mohammed claimed to be a prophet, yet he could show no credentials. Neither fulfillment of prophecy nor miracles can be brought forth to prove his assertions. The rapid spread of his doctrines in that small circumscribed region where they flourish was due solely to the sword.

Thus by the process of elimination there is only one revelation left and that is the revelation of Christianity, through Judaism.

CHRISTIANITY

It cannot be seriously disputed that Christianity is the one, true revelation of God. Its leading doctrines are above the mentality of men even to conceive. The proofs it gives to justify itself, are in themselves divine. For they consist of a succession of prophecies undeniably fulfilled. Miracles of which only God could be the Author. The principal miracle being the Resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead.

And lastly, by holding out a final destiny beyond our natural powers, and offering supernatural help to enable attainment of this destiny. Thus, it is a supernatural religion. Supernatural in its doctrines, its credentials, and its aims.

In conclusion, the Christian revelation is a revelation which bears all the marks of God’s Divinity.

What I mean is this: God is a God of infinite love and mercy and justice. Hence, His true revelation should have these same qualities, in the same infinite degree. It should be a revelation of infinite love and mercy and justice.

God is a God of infinite unity; hence. His true revelation should be the same. No clashing of systems, no babble of authority.

God is a God of infinite and absolute truth. Hence, in His revelation there should be no contradiction, no error.

God is a God of infinite wisdom. His revelation should have the same quality. Absolutely logical, reasonable, and perfectly consistent. Satisfying your common sense. Coinciding with your experiences. Proving true to whatever knowledge you may have, and as you advance in knowledge, your certainty and satisfaction in this true revelation can only grow stronger and more certain. The same with science, when science proves its theories to be facts.

To be brief, since God created you with whatever faculties you may possess, in His one true revelation He not only should, but must, satisfy these faculties completely.

If you believe in God at all, you must believe this.

And in all the world, down through the ages of time, there is but one revelation that does this. And make no mistake, there is this one revelation that does so prove itself. Proving its divinity with a divine, indisputable thoroughness.

And where is this Revelation? The truths of Life, Death and Eternity! What God would have you believe! How He would have you live! That you may know! Where will you find this?

You will find it in the Catholic Church! And there only!

That is a strong statement! Terrific in its import! Not only strong but uncompromising! Hence you demand, “By what authority can the Catholic Church say this?”

You are a living child of the Living God. A being with reason and intelligence. And you have every right to ask that question. To demand an answer!

And the Catholic Church answers you!

“I speak to you with the authority of God Himself. And if you will only investigate, God Himself will do the rest.”

Nihil Obstat:

ARTHUR J. SCANLAN, S.T.D., Censor Librorum.

Imprimatur:

@ PATRICK CARDINAL HAYES, Archbishop of New York.

New York, September 14, 1934.

********

Religion of Today: What’s Wrong With It?

BY REV. G. J. MACGILLIVRAY, M.A

INDEX

By “Religion of Today” I mean the religion of the great mass of our fellow -countrymen, excluding, of course, Catholics, and excluding also the little group of “Anglo-Catholics,” and some other little groups, who have more or less definite religious systems of one kind or another. I mean that rather vague collection of ideas on the subject of religion which is part of the mental furniture of the average man of today in this country, and which often finds expression in the public press, in articles in magazines and newspapers. Certainly this religion is not anything very definite. As a rule none of these writers would care to define anything, and they differ from one another on many points. But there is enough likeness in the general attitude of all of them to make it possible to deal with them as a whole, and to speak of their ideas as forming something, which we may call the “Religion of Today.” And the object of this little pamphlet is to try to point out a few of the fundamental mistakes made by these popular writers and their readers, and to suggest how they may find their way to the truth.

“ORTHODOX CHRISTIANITY”

In the first place, then, it is to be noticed that our popular exponents of religion nearly always begin by rejecting what they call “orthodox Christianity.” Sometimes they hardly condescend to mention the fact that they do reject it. They assume that “orthodox Christianity” is something quite out of date, and no longer worth the consideration of any “thinking man.” They never, of course, explain very clearly what they understand by that term. You are left to gather that from more or less casual references.

THE LIMITATIONS IMPLIED

Sometimes they seem to think that “orthodox Christians” regard God as a sort of superman, who deals with His creatures in an entirely unreasonable and capricious way. They think that the words “person” and “personal,” when applied to God, must imply those limitations which belong to human personality, and then scoff at such puerile ideas. They imagine that faith means blindly accepting a number of unintelligible statements taught by clergymen, who can give no reasonable grounds for their belief, but expect others to believe them on their authority. They of course assume that those clergymen have worked out their doctrines from the Bible with nothing but some mysterious “inner light” to guide them. They regard the doctrine of the Trinity, for example, which they find in the Athanasian Creed, as a jumble of unintelligible and contradictory statements, which can have no possible bearing on human life. They interpret the doctrine of the Atonement on the analogy of a human father, who punishes his son for the misdeeds of his servants, and then lets the servants off free. And, in general, they can see no connection between what they suppose to be “orthodox” beliefs and the practical conduct of life. They believe Christians to hold that it does not matter much what a man does, provided that his opinions are theologically correct. They do not see that belief and practice hang together, and that the conduct of an intelligent man must depend upon what he believes about God and his relation to God.

Hearing or reading such statements as these, one can only wonder how those people arrived at their idea of orthodox Christianity. It looks as if they had picked up a few fragments of doctrine taught by some small Christian sects, or by the less intelligent members of them, and without further inquiry, and indeed without trying to understand what they have heard, put these things down as “orthodox Christianity.” But that is hardly worthy of men and women with any pretension to intelligence and culture. Supposing them to have been so unfortunate as to have been taught such nonsense in their childhood, you would hardly have expected them to jump to the conclusion that that, and that alone, is a fair representation of the Christian Faith. You would have expected them to look a little wider, to look in a comprehensive way at Christendom, at the Christian Religion in its various forms throughout the world, to see whether possibly there was not some other form of Christianity which had a better title to the name of orthodox.

ONE LARGE CENTRAL COMMUNITY

You would have expected them to notice that besides the little local sects, which were familiar to them in their childhood, there is one large central community of Christians spread throughout the world, a community which is larger than all the other Christian communities put together; which, in spite of its size and universality, is closely united in one compact organisation; which, as history plainly testifies, goes back to the beginning of the Christian religion, and from which, in fact, all the little local sects have at various times broken off; a body which has always contained, and does now contain, innumerable men and women in every country of the world distinguished in science and literature and art and statesmanship; a body which in fact made the civilisation and culture of Europe, the highest civilisation and culture that the world has ever seen. I say you would have expected men of intelligence and culture at least to have noticed the Catholic Church.

If they had done so, and had also tried to gain an elementary knowledge of the teaching of the Catholic Church, they might have discovered that the real “orthodox Christianity” is something very different from what they thought. They might have discovered that it does not contain any of those grotesque doctrines which they very properly reject, and that it is not a hotch-potch of isolated and more or less unintelligible statements but a perfectly reasonable and consistent body of doctrine concerning God and our relation to God, that it forms a consistent whole, that it all hangs together. Taken as a whole it throws a flood of light on all the practical problems of life. It gives the only sane and satisfactory account of the universe, of the origin and meaning and end of human life. It is not a mere abstract speculation on things that do not concern us.

TO BE TAKEN AS A WHOLE

Of course, if you isolate one doctrine, such as the doctrine of the Blessed Trinity, from the rest, you may fail to see its practical bearing. But that is not reasonable. You must take it as a whole, a consistent whole, of which you cannot leave out one part without destroying it all. Then you see that it is something very practical indeed, perfectly adapted to the needs of men, both individually and socially. To the individual it gives an intelligible meaning to the universe and to human life. For society it provides the only basis of a sound civilisation and culture. Nobody can deny that it was the Catholic Church which gave civilisation and culture to Europe. And if people were not so wilfully blind, they would see that it is through a partial abandonment of Catholic teaching that Europe is in chaos today, and that, if our civilisation is to be saved, it can only be through a return to that Faith on which it was originally built.

That, then, is the first and most fundamental mistake made by most of our popular writers on religion. They hapilly dismiss “orthodox Christianity” without having first taken the trouble to find out what the Christian Religion really is. And they never can know, so long as they ignore the Catholic Church. For to discuss Christianity while remaining in complete ignorance of that Body and its teaching, is very much as if an American visitor were to write a book about the manners and customs of Europe, and were to show that he knew nothing at all about England, France, Germany, and Italy, and had only visited some obscure tribes in the less civilised parts of the Balkan States.

GOD’S REVELATION

The second mistake made by most of our popular writers is even more astonishing. They write as if they were quite unconscious of the elementary fact that the Christian Faith claims to be a revelation from God. They persistently talk as if it has never occurred to them that Christianity was anything, or claimed to be anything, but a collection of human opinions. But Christianity does not present itself as a collection of human opinions. It presents itself as a Revelation, a message from God. That is how it first presented itself to the world. That is what all Christians believed for many centuries, and what we Catholics at least believe still. We believe that this revelation was made by Jesus Christ; that He was not a mere man, but nothing less than God Incarnate, God come amongst us in human form, having taken a human nature to Himself for that very purpose. We believe that He brought to us a message from God, that He made a definite revelation of the mind and purpose of God; that He taught us just those things which human reason can never attain to, and which are of the utmost practical importance.

WHAT HAPPENS AFTER DEATH?

He explained to us, as far as our finite minds can grasp it, the nature of God, our relation to Him, the meaning and purpose of life. He told us what God requires of us in this world; how He desires to be served. He told us what happens after death; how there is the awful alternative of heaven or hell; either we may reach a state of eternal happiness in union with God, sharing the very life and happiness of God Himself, or we may find ourselves shut out from that happiness, cast into outer darkness for ever. He showed us also the way to attain that eternal happiness, and provided the means of reaching it. We also believe that He committed this teaching to a permanent teaching body, which He called His Church; that He guaranteed that He would be with that Church always, guiding it, keeping it right, enabling it to teach always, without error or change, the truth revealed by Him. We believe that that Church exists still according to His promise, that it is the body known as the Catholic Church, that great world-wide community, of which the earthly head is the Pope. That is Christianity as it has always been understood by the vast majority of Christians.

This, then, is the claim that has to be judged. Is it true, or is it not? Is the Christian Religion a revelation from God, or is it not? The importance of understanding this cannot be exaggerated. Those who fail to grasp it approach the consideration of Christianity in an entirely wrong way, a way which cannot possibly lead to a satisfactory result. A simple illustration will make this clear. Suppose you have a brother in a distant country, and one day a stranger comes to you, professing to bring you a message from your brother. You do not begin by criticising the contents of the message, saying, as he proceeds with his narrative, “Yes, that seems all right, I can believe that. But, no, I do not believe that other part of it; that does not seem at all likely.” No, you deal with the matter in quite a different way. Before you listen to the message at all, you ask for the messenger’s credentials. You ask for proof that the message really does come from your brother, and that the messenger is such a trustworthy person that he is sure to deliver it correctly. If you are not satisfied on these points, if you discover on enquiry that the man is an impostor, or a fool, who has evidently got the message all mixed up, you politely show him the door.

THE MESSENGER’S CREDENTIA LS

On the other hand, if you are satisfied that he is genuine and trustworthy, if he shows you proof that the message is authentic, then you are ready to accept it. Now, when the Catholic Church comes to us, professing to have a message from God, that is the only reasonable way to deal with the matter. It is mere folly to begin by discussing the contents of the message, and to say: “Yes, I can accept this part, but that other part does not seem at all likely or credible.” The only rational thing to do is to ask for the messenger’s credentials, to find out whether the message really does come from God or not. And yet that is the question which it never occurs to most of those people who discuss religious problems to ask, or to attempt to settle.

WHAT THINK YOU OF CHRIST?

There are, therefore, two main questions to be settled. The first is: Was Jesus Christ what we believe Him to have been, the Son of God, who came into this world to reveal to us the mind and purpose of God? And the second is: Has His message been correctly handed down to us by the Catholic Church?

Let us begin with the first: Was Jesus Christ the Son of God, not in any metaphorical sense, but actually, being Himself God, the Eternal Son of the Eternal Father, as Christians have always believed Him to be? And here let me observe that, if anyone rejects this belief, he is bound to give some other reasonable account of Him. And that is the problem which most of the people who discuss Christianity in a vague and superficial way never really face. Without discussing it, they just assume that He was merely a great human teacher, who taught a beautiful system of morals. They picture Him as a good and amiable man, who went about telling people to be good and kind to each other. But such a picture of Christ is a pure invention. The Christ whom they imagine never existed. The only means we have of knowing what sort of person Christ was is by reading the accounts of His life given in the four Gospels. And the Person there described is not in the least like the amiable human teacher whom our friends imagine. The Personality there depicted is something quite unique. Let me try to sketch it briefly.

THE THREE YEARS OF ACTIVE LIFE

I will leave out for the moment the accounts of His birth and the strange incidents connected with it, and take merely the three years of active life. What do we find? A young man from Nazareth, the reputed son of the village carpenter, after Himself working quietly at the trade of His supposed father from His boyhood until the age of thirty, suddenly appears in public and announces that the Kingdom of God is at hand. He says that He is the Messiah, the Man from Heaven, the anointed of God, to whose coming all the Jewish prophets had looked forward for centuries. He had come to set up the Kingdom of God on earth, and to invite men into that Kingdom. He claims to teach, not any human opinions, but a message from God. That was the thing that struck His hearers, as one of the Evangelists records: “They were astonished at His teaching, because He taught as one having authority, and not as the Scribes.” The Scribes taught their own opinions. He had nothing to do with opinions, but delivered an authoritative message. “My doctrine is not Mine,” He said, “but His that sent Me.”

Moreover, He said that He had come, not merely to teach, indeed not primarily to teach, but to do things. He claimed to have extraordinary supernatural powers, to have brought a new Divine power into the world, to give a new Divine life to men. “I am come,” He said, “that they may have life, and that they may have it more abundantly.” And as proof of His supernatural power He did many wonderful works. He distinctly points to those works as proof of His supernatural power. He also said some very strange things about His death. He spoke of it, not as a calamity, but as something that had to be done, indeed as the main thing that He had come into the world to do. He came into the world to die, and through His death to bestow some vast and mysterious benefit upon mankind. He came,He said, “to give His life as a ransom for many.”

But that is not all. He claimed quite clearly to be not merely the messenger of God, but to be God Himself, the Eternal Son of the Eternal Father. There is no doubt about it. “Before Abraham was, I am.” “I and the Father are one.” “He that hath seen Me hath seen the Father.” It is the Father’s will “that all men should honour the Son as they honour the Father.” He puts Himself quite clearly on an equality with God the Father.

PARABLES AND OTHER TEACHING

That is the picture of Christ as depicted in the authentic records of His life written by those who knew Him, or friends of those who knew Him. That, therefore, is the Person with whom you have to deal. If you reject His claims, the account He gave of Himself, what do you make of Him? It is useless to invent a fancy picture of a good man teaching a simple and beautiful moral doctrine. You have to deal with a Person who made these startling and unique claims. The fact is that, regarded as a mere man, He is a quite impossible man. On the one hand you have His undisputed goodness, His wisdom, the most wonderfully subtle thought, the most profound, well-balanced mind that the world has ever seen, with His beautiful parables and other teaching, at which the world has never ceased to marvel, and to which it has no parallel. And on the other hand you have these personal claims, which in the mouth of a mere man would be the wildest extravagance, the ravings of a lunatic. Great and good men do not talk like that.

THE EMPTY TOMB

Then there are His miracles, which cannot be eliminated from the narrative. They rest on precisely the same evidence as the rest. Especially there is the great miracle of the Resurrection. And notice that for the fact of the Resurrection we have as abundant first-hand evidence as for any fact in history. There are not only the accounts in the Gospels, but St Paul’s letters, the authenticity of which (at least the chief of them) no sane critic has ever doubted. There we have St Paul, writing within a few years of the event, declaring that he himself knew a large number of people, several of whom he names, who had seen Our Lord risen from the dead. There is also the well-attested fact of the empty tomb, which nobody has ever been able to explain away. But more than that, it is really impossible to account for the existence of Christianity apart from the fact of the Resurrection. You have the undoubted fact that Our Lord’s life ended in what was apparently the most ignominious failure. And yet, almost immediately afterwards, you find His followers confidently believing and asserting that He was God. Unless His miracles, and especially the Resurrection, really took place, what could possibly have made them believe that ?

No, take Our Lord as a mere man, and He is an insoluble enigma. It is easy enough to invent a fancy picture out of your own imagination. But read the Gospels without any preconceived ideas. Try to read them as if you had never read them before. Try to picture to yourself the Person there described. Then try to explain Him to yourself as a mere man. Try to make out what sort of man He was. You will be utterly bewildered. It is a hopeless puzzle. And the only solution to the puzzle is the very simple one of accepting His own account of Himself, of believing about Him what we believe, that He was God, the Eternal Son of the Eternal Father, who for us men and for our salvation came down from heaven and was made Man.

HAVE WE FORGOTTEN OUR FOUNDER?

It is a very common assertion that Christians of today, or (as people say) “the Churches,” have departed very widely from the teaching of Christ, and especially that they have added many dogmas to the simple truths that He taught. And this brings us to our second question: Has the message of Jesus Christ, the Son of God, been correctly handed down to us by the Catholic Church? I say the Catholic Church, because I am not concerned with any other. In fact I believe that all the others have gone wrong, but I am sure that the Catholic Church has not. And this I proceed briefly to prove.

I do not, however, propose to prove this by taking various doctrines, as now taught by the Catholic Church, and showing that they are all contained in the records of Christ’s teaching as given in the Gospels. No, I propose to prove it in a much simpler and more conclusive way, namely, by showing that the Catholic Church cannot go wrong, because there is in it a divine power, which prevents it from going wrong. Clearly, if I can prove that, it is enough. There will then be no need to examine each separate doctrine, and see whether it was taught by Christ. For, if the Church cannot go wrong, then it has not gone wrong. And consequently whatever it teaches must be true.

THE RECORDS OF HIS LIFE

Look, then, once more at the records of Our Lord’s life in the Gospels. Having taught certain truths to the com- paratively few people whom He was able to reach during the few years that He lived in one little corner of the world, what means did He take to ensure that that teaching should be handed on to others, to people of other lands and other generations? He did not come to teach a few; His message was for all the world and for all ages. What steps did He take to ensure that it should be taught to all the world, handed on unchanged and uncorrupted to future generations? He did not leave it to chance. He did not trust to luck, if I may use the expression, that somehow those who heard Him would pass it on to others, and those others to their children, and so forth. That certainly would have been a very precarious method. Nor did He write it down, nor tell others to write it down. That would have been a little better, but still very unsatisfactory. For people would have disputed for ever over the meaning of what was written, as they always do.

A TEACHING SOCIETY

No, what He did was this. He founded a teaching society, which He called His Church. From His hearers He chose out twelve men, whom He called Apostles. He trained them carefully, formed them into a society, and then commissioned them to carry on His teaching, to teach in His Name after He was gone, to take His place in the world as the authorised Divine Teacher. See the words that He spoke to them: “As the Father sent Me, even so send I you.” Can anything be clearer? He had repeatedly said that He was sent by the Father, that His words were not His own, but the Father’s who sent Him. And now He says to the Apostles, to this teaching body which He had founded, “even so,” in precisely the same way, “ I send you.” As I have taught in the Father’s Name, you will teach in Mine. As My words are not My own but His, so your words will not be your own but Mine, and therefore also His. Your teaching will be the teaching of God. Again, “He that heareth you heareth Me, and he that heareth Me heareth Him that sent Me.” And finally, His last words: “All power is given unto Me in heaven and in earth. Going, therefore, teach ye all nations; baptising them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost; teaching them to observe all things whatsoever I have commanded you; and behold I am with you all days, even to the consummation of the world.”

Here notice two things. This society, which He has founded, is to be permanent. It is not merely to the Apostles that He gives this commission, but to them and their successors, to a permanent society, which is to go to all nations and to last until the end of the world. And He promises that He, to whom all power is given in heaven and in earth, will be with them to keep them right, to enable them to carry out the task that He gives them. They are to go to all nations, and to continue until the end of the world, teaching precisely what He has commanded. That is a task from which they might well shrink. They might well turn round and ask: “How can we do this? How can we be sure that we shall always teach just what You have commanded, that we shall not make mistakes, that Your message will not get altered in course of time?” “I am with you,” is His answer. The meaning is quite clear. The phrase is common in the Old Testament. When God sent one of His prophets to accomplish some difficult task, from which human weakness might shrink, He always adds, “I will be with you,” that is, to enable you to do it; I will see you through. So Our Lord, then, said to the Church which He founded. He will be with it always, to keep it right, to see that it always does teach just what He commanded and nothing else.

“CHRIST PREACHES CHRIST”

But that is not all. There is a still more remarkable saying in St John’s Gospel, Chapter XV: “I am the Vi ne, you are the branches.” What can that mean but that Christ goes on living in His Church, the abiding Source of all its knowledge, wisdom, life and powers? As life flows from the vine-stock through all the branches, so the divine life of Christ flows through the Church. St Paul expresses the same thing in another way when he calls the Church the Body of Christ. It is the Body, of which Christ is the Head, and of which the Holy Ghost, who is called the Spirit of Christ,” is the soul. Indeed so close is the union between Christ and His Church that it is in a manner identified with Him. Thus, when Saul (who is also called Paul) was persecuting the Church, Our Lord said to him: “Saul, Saul, why persecutest thou Me?” And St Paul, following the Master, in his first Epistle to the Corinthians, actually calls the Church Christ. “For as the body is one,” he says, “and hath many members, and all the members of the body, whereas they are many, are yet one body, so also is Christ.” You would have expected him to end-so also is the Church. But no, he says “so also is Christ.” The Church is Christ. Or, as Pope Pius XII puts it in his beautiful encyclical, Mystici Corporis Christi, following St Augustine, “Christ, the mystical Head, and the Church, which like another Christ represents His person on earth, together constitute one new man . . Christ, Head and Body, is the whole Christ.” And so again St Augustine, speaking of the Church’s preaching, says quite simply “Christ preaches Christ.” When the Church teaches, it is Christ Himself who, living in the Church, teaches through the Church.

What, then, is the sense in saying that we have forgotten or altered the teaching of our Founder? The Catholic Church can never do that, simply because it is His Body. He is not a teacher of long ago, whose teaching we must gather from ancient documents. In His Body He still lives on earth-lives, speaks and acts, as really as He lived, spoke and acted long ago in Galilee and Jerusalem.

THE MEANING OF THE REVELATION

The obvious difficulty, however, about all this is that at first sight the Catholic Church does seem to have changed, or at least added to the teaching of Christ. You look, for example, at our Catechism, and there certainly seems to be a good deal there that is not in the Gospels. That is because the original teaching has been-to use a common phrase- developed. The Divine Teacher, Christ speaking through His Church, has become more explicit, more detailed in His explanations of the original doctrine, as time goes on. Not that anything has been added. We do not claim that any new revelation has been made. On the contrary, we maintain that the revelation made through Christ and His Apostles was final. But it does not follow that the whole meaning of that revelation, all that it implied, all that it implicitly contained, was known all at once. If you look at a beautiful picture, you do not see all its beauty at once. You have to study it, to study it long and often, and gradually you see new beauties and new meanings in it. Little by little the conception of the master-mind who painted it, the ideal of the artist, becomes clearer.

THE CHURCH USES NEW TERMS

So it is with God’s revelation. Our understanding of it progresses. The Church, guided by the Spirit of Christ, sees more and more clearly the meaning of it, sees continually new meanings and new beauties in it. And to make it clearer the Church does not hesitate to use new terms. It is not afraid to use human knowledge, to borrow words and ideas from human science and philosophy, to explain and illustrate its teaching. It accepts what is suitable and rejects what is not, just as any other living organism does in seeking its food from its environment. It takes whatever comes to hand and selects; retaining what is wholesome, rejecting what is unwholesome for it. Since the Church is a living teacher, not a mere record office, that is what we should expect. It does not go on mechanically repeating the old phrases, and never anything more. As new difficulties arise and human knowledge grows, the old revelation requires continually new and fuller explanation. In a word, it is that Scribe of whom Our Lord spoke, the Scribe instructed in the Kingdom of Heaven, who brings forth out of his treasure things new and old.

FAITH AND REASON

There is a popular idea among people who do not know very much about the Catholic Religion that we Catholics entirely reject reason in religious matters. They have heard us talking about the necessity of faith, and they think that faith means believing blindly without any reason. Now, on the face of it, this does not seem likely. For the 300,000,000 Catholics in the world are not all fools. For example, to take two names at random, Rontgen, one of the most famous men of science of our time, the discoverer of X-rays, was an excellent Catholic, and Field-Marshal Foch was a most devout Catholic. Is it likely that such men as these would believe anything blindly without reason?

The fact is that our critics do not know what Faith is. Let me therefore briefly explain. Faith means believing a statement on the authority of another person. If I tell you that I saw a person knocked down by a motor car yesterday, and you believe me, you are making an act of faith. And it is obvious that that is a perfectly reasonable thing to do, provided you are satisfied that the person is one on whose knowledge and veracity you can rely. Now, the Catholic Religion, as I have already pointed out, presents itself as a revelation from God, making known to us facts concerning Himself and our relation to Him which we cannot know by other means. But, if it is reasonable sometimes to believe our fellow-men, it is always reasonable to believe God. And that is what we call Divine Faith. It means believing certain statements, not by any means blindly, but because they have been made by God Himself. And what can be more reasonable than that?

The only thing necessary, therefore, before we can reasonably accept the Catholic Faith is, that we must first be convinced that it does come from God. And here again reason comes in. We are not asked to accept that blindly. We are invited to use our reason by examining the evidence. Some of that evidence I have already briefly indicated. There is the claim made by Jesus Christ to be the Son of God, and the Revealer of God to men, and the proofs He gave of that claim. There is also the plain fact that He founded the Catholic Church, sent it to teach in His Name, and guaranteed its infallibility.

THE WORK OF GOD

There is plenty of other evidence to corroborate this. There is the whole wonderful history of the Catholic Church; the marvellous way in which, in spite of the greatest moral and physical difficulties, it conquered and transformed the whole pagan world; the wonderful lives of the Saints it has produced in every age and still does produce; its fertility in every kind of good; the way in which it keeps united in one body and in one faith countless millions of men of every race; and above all its indestructible vitality; how over and over again it has seemed to be on the point of dying, of being destroyed, either by its enemies without, or by the faithlessness of its own children; and yet every time, instead of dying, it renews its youth, blossoming out into new life and vigour. It is facts such as these that we invite you to consider. It is only possible briefly to indicate them here. You must go to larger works to find them stated at length. There you will find abundant evidence to satisfy your reason that the Catholic Church is altogether above the category of merely human institutions, that it is the work of God, and that therefore its message is the message of God.

But here a caution is necessary. You are invited to examine the evidence, for Faith must be founded on reason. But reason alone is not sufficient to lead to Faith. The evidence is abundant, but all are not convinced by it. That is because the evidence, though strong, is not compelling, like a mathematical proof, leaving no loophole of escape. Therefore, in arriving at a conviction of this truth, that the Catholic Religion comes from God, two other elements come in. And first, the will has a good deal to do with it. I cannot now enter into the very difficult question of the precise relation and interaction of the will and the intellect. But a very little consideration of the workings of the human mind will show that it does enter into this matter in various ways. Some people do not care enough about God to take the trouble to examine the evidence with attention.

THERE IS AN OBLIGATION

Then there is intellectual pride. People think they can get on very well without God. Or they do not wish to be taught by God. They think they can find out everything for themselves. Or they insist on serving God in their own way, in the way that they think best, instead of humbly trying to find out how God wants to be served, and serving Him in His way. Again, to accept the Catholic Faith carries with it the obligation of practising the Catholic Religion, and that means doing many things that are not congenial to our fallen human nature. All these things influence the will, and the will, often half-unconsciously, influences the judgment. And so people do not believe, because they have not the will to believe.

But there is yet another factor in the process of arriving at the truth, and that is the Grace of God. Just because we are dealing with something supernatural, we need a supernatural power to appreciate it and grasp it properly. We require Divine Grace to illuminate the intellect and to strengthen the will. That is what we mean when we say that Faith is a gift of God. We do not mean that it comes like a sort of intuition, apart from all use of our reason. God’s Grace does not take the place of the intellect, nor supersede it. It makes it work properly in this difficult matter of perceiving Divine Truth so that it sees things as they are, appreciates at its true value the evidence presented to it. And it strengthens the will. It helps you to get rid of all those wrong motives which blind the reason. It helps you to have a pure and sincere desire to see God’s will, and to follow it at any cost. That is why you will never arrive at a knowledge of the truth without God’s Grace. And Grace is given in answer to prayer. Therefore, to find the truth, you must not only think and reason, and examine the evidence. You must also pray.

SCOPE FOR THE INTELLECT

You see, then, the proper use of reason in leading us to the Faith. But afterwards? After we have accepted the Faith, must we then abandon all use of reason? Is the act of Faith, as some people say, an act of intellectual suicide? Nothing of the kind. You will no longer, of course, reason about revealed truths, to see whether they are true. You accept them on the authority of God, who cannot lie. But you can go on reasoning about these truths, comparing them with one another, and with other truths known by natural means, trying to find out more and more of their meaning. There is still plenty of scope for your intellect, as much as you like to use it. In fact, far from being intellectual suicide, acceptance of the Catholic Faith makes for intellectual freedom. There is only one sense in which we in the Catholic Church are not so free as those outside; we are not so free to go wrong. We have the infallible guidance of the Church to warn us off dangerous paths. But that is not to deprive us of freedom in any real sense. If you are motoring in a strange district, and you find that the Automobile Association has put up notices to warn you off dangerous roads, you do not complain that the A.A. has deprived you of freedom. It has made you more free. You can drive much more rapidly and securely, knowing that where there are no danger-signals you have nothing to fear. So it is with us in the Catholic Church. We have the truth revealed by God to guide us, and to warn us off dangerous paths. And so we have merely to observe this guidance, avoid the ways marked dangerous, and then use our intellects as freely as we like. And so it is that we appreciate the meaning of those words of our Divine Lord: “You shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free.”

THE CHURCH AND SCIENCE

“The discoveries of modern science have made it quite impossible for any thinking man to believe any longer in orthodox Christianity.” How often we read statements of that kind in our Sunday newspapers and popular magazines. It might be answered very shortly by merely pointing to the fact that, in spite of the discoveries of modern science, a great many “thinking men” do still believe in orthodox Christianity, that is to say in the Catholic Religion. It is very easy to mention the names of a number of men in the very front rank of science, either still alive or not long dead, who are or have been devout Catholics, and that is really a complete answer. If men of our own day like Rontgen, Secchi, Perry, Cortie, Breuil, Windle, Whittaker, and Sherwood Taylor have found no obstacle to their belief in the discoveries of science, then it is simply a plain fact that these discoveries cannot have made it impossible.

But it is also quite easy to prove the falsity of this statement directly, even to those whose knowledge of science is as limited as that of most of our popular journalists. Of course it is impossible to do so here, in the very limited space at my disposal.

On the whole subject of the relations between science and religion the enquirer cannotdo better than consult “The Fourfold Vision” by Professor Sherwood Taylor.

THE OBJECTION ANSWERED

But very briefly the objection may be answered as follows. If you assert that the discoveries of science have made it impossible to believe any longer in orthodox Christianity, you must prove your assertion. And notice what it is that you have to prove. You have to prove that certain facts, demonstrated by science to be facts, show one or more dogmas of the Catholic Faith to be false. There are two points here to be emphasised. They must be dogmas of the Catholic Faith that are shown to be false, for I am not concerned to defend any other variety of Christianity, as I have said before. And secondly, the facts adduced to disprove these dogmas must be facts, proved facts, not mere theories or hypotheses. Facts and theories are very often confused by people who have not learnt to think clearly. But the distinction is of the utmost importance. You cannot disprove anything by merely bringing forward a theory. You must adduce solid demonstrated facts.

Very well, then, I simply put forward the challenge: What proved facts are there, demonstrated by science to be facts, which contradict any dogma of the Catholic Faith? Most people, when faced with this question, will begin talking vaguely about evolution. But what dogma of the Catholic Faith does it contradict? None. It is a dogma of the Faith that all things were created by God. But whether He created all forms of life as they are now, or whether He at first created a few primitive forms, and in the course of ages, by the continual action of His divine power, evolved other forms from them, has never been defined by the Church. The possibility of some kind of evolution was discussed and admitted by Doctors and Fathers of the Church many centuries ago. Therefore there can be nothing in the theory that is contrary to the Faith. And certainly there is no proved fact that is contrary to the Faith.

EARLY CHAPTERS OF GENESIS

Another common objection concerns the narratives in the early chapters of Genesis. They say science has shown that the account of creation there given is quite inaccurate. But that is not so. All that science can possibly have shown is that these chapters are not to be interpreted literally. But the Church has never held that they must be interpreted literally. From the earliest times there have been all kinds of different ways of interpreting those narratives. They were never intended to give us a strictly scientific account of the world’s beginning. They are intended to teach us certain great truths about God and our relation to Him. And if the account of these things is put in a more or less symbolic or metaphorical way, that in no way interferes with its truth.

Then there is the doctrine of the Fall of Man. This is a favourite objection. “Surely,” people say, “science has conclusively proved that this, at least, is a myth. Is it not true that in all the remains of early man there is no trace of a fall, but only of gradual upward progress? Now, this is a very good example of how people object to Catholic doctrines without having taken the trouble to understand them. Those who talk like this show clearly that they do not know what is meant by the Fall. Briefly, what is meant is that when Adam, the first man, was created, he was endowed with that supernatural life which we call “sanctifying grace,” and that presently, by disobeying God, he lost it. Now, what trace of such an event could you find? Or what evidence could you have that it did not take place? Supposing even that you had discovered the actual bones of the first man, what indication would you expect to find that in the first moment of his creation his soul was in a state of grace, and that a little later he had lost that grace?

But I cannot go into all these questions here in detail. Fuller information must be sought elsewhere. I can merely indicate the lines to be followed in the enquiry. And if the reader will take the trouble to go into it carefully, he will find that every objection can be answered in one or other of three ways. Either it will turn out that the alleged facts are not facts at all, but only unproved theories, or that the alleged Christian doctrine is not a Catholic dogma at all or that the facts have no bearing on the dogma. And so I repeat that there are no facts, ascertained and proved by science to be facts, which contradict any dogma of the Catholic Faith.

WHAT THEY HAVE MISSED

These are some of the mistakes made by popular writers of today with regard to Christianity. But I find in their writings something much more serious than all these mistakes of detail. And that is, that they have missed the whole essence of it. They have really no notion of what Christianity is. They seem to think that it consists entirely of a number of doctrines concerning God and our relation to Him, together with a very high code of morals, for which some express their admiration, while others regard it as impracticable. Now it is quite true that the Christian or Catholic Religion includes both these things. But they are not the very essence of it. The essence of it is a Divine Gift, a Gift of Life. The earliest name of Christianity is the “Gospel,” the Good News, that the Eternal Son of God has come into the world with a gift of Life for men.

SOMETHING NEW HAD HAPPENED

If you read the New Testament, you will find that what the first Christians believed was not merely that they had learnt something new, but that something new had happened. A new divine power, a new divine life, had come into the world through Jesus Christ. They believed that they had received this new divine life from Him. It is the keynote, the central theme, of all St Paul’s teaching. “So do you also reckon that you are dead to sin, but alive unto God through Jesus Christ our Lord.” “Present yourselves to God, as those that are alive from the dead.”

Now I live, yet not I, but Christ in me.” But it is still clearer in Our Lord’s own teaching. He makes it perfectly plain that the purpose for which He came into the world was to give a newdivine life to men. “I am come,” He says, “that they may have life, and that they may have it more abundantly.” “As the Father raiseth up the dead and giveth life, so also the Son giveth life to whom He will.” Moreover, He makes it quite plain that He is the only Source of this life; it is not to be had apart from Him, or by those who refuse to believe in Him. “ He that believeth in the Son hath life everlasting, but He that believeth not the Son shall not see life.” And so He complains to the Jews:

“You will not come to Me that you may have life.” That is the essence of the Gospel of Christ, the Gospel, which the Catholic Church has taught from that day to this; that Jesus Christ is the Source of a new divine life to men, a life that we cannot have apart from Him.

THE GIFT LOST BY SIN

But what is this life? And why is it necessary? This also the Divine Teacher makes perfectly clear. Briefly, the facts are these. We are fallen creatures. We are not as God originally intended us to be. God gave to our first parents, Adam and Eve, the giftof a supernatural life, or in other words what we call “sanctifying grace.” As the Council of Trent puts it, Adam was “constituted in original holiness and justice.” And if he had not lost that gift by sin, not only would he have continued in holiness, but he would have had perfect control over all his faculties; he would have remained free from that weakness and rebellion of the lower nature which makes it so difficult for us to do right, and so easy to fall into all kinds of sin; and that same sanctifying grace would also have preserved him supernaturally from suffering and death. But he did sin, he disobeyed God, and so lost all these gifts. And because he lost them, he was unable to transmit them to us. Consequently we are born in what is called “original sin.” That is to say, we are born without sanctifying grace, and all those other gifts which would have flowed from it, and which we should have had if Adam had not sinned. In other words, as St Paul puts it, we are “alienated from the life of God,” and utterly incapable by ourselves of attaining that end for which God created us, eternal happiness in union with Him.

Now, it was precisely to restore that divine life to us that Jesus Christ, the Incarnate Son of God, came into the world. And that is the clue to the whole meaning of the Christian or Catholic Religion. It is nothing more nor less than God’s way of raising us to a new and higher kind of life, which we cannot have by nature, to which we can never attain by our own efforts. It is a supernatural life, a divine life, a real sharing in the life of God Himself, for, as St Peter says, it makes us “partakers of the divine nature.” That is the point that so many people miss. They do not understand that through His Church God offers them this gift of eternal life, which they have not and cannot have by nature. I cannot go into it all here in detail. But, briefly, God’s plan, which He has revealed to us, is this. First, God Himself, God the eternal Son, came into the world. “The Word was made flesh and dwelt amongst us . . full of grace and truth.” Then He offered that mysterious sacrifice of Himself upon the Cross, to make satisfaction for the sins of men.

THE INFINITE LOVE OF GOD

There we see the infinite love of God taking upon Himself, in a way that is far beyond our comprehension, the burden of our sins. Having died, He rose again from death and ascended to the Father. And so He remains, God and Man, the Source of life and grace to all who will receive Him. Nor is He far away, dwelling in the depths of light inaccessible. For, though He is in heaven, He also remains amongst us on earth, living in the Church which is His Body. I have already referred to this, showing how according to His own promises He remains in the Church and continues to teach, thus guaranteeing its infallibility. But because of His abiding presence the Church is more than a Divine Teacher; it is the living and life-giving Body of Christ. From Him who is the Head, grace and life flow to all the members, and so it is by membership in the Church that we have union with Christ and live in Him. That life flows to us specially through the seven Sacraments, which Christ gave to His Church, for that very purpose, to confer upon us and to nourish in us the divine life. Here and now that divine life, is hidden, working secretly in the depths of the soul, but none the less real, making us new creatures, transforming the soul into the divine likeness, so that when we pass away from this perishing world, we shall be capable of union with God and eternal life in Him.

That is the life which Our Lord offers us. And without it what solid hope to assurance have we? It is curious how many people in these days seem to assume that somehow in the next life, whatever they may do here and now (at least if they make some kind of effort to lead decent lives, and keep the conventions, and are reasonably kind to their neighbours) all will be well. But, unfortunately for them, God’s revelation tells us the exact opposite. It tells us that, as we are by nature, we are alienated from the life of God, fallen away from God, with no prospect before us but of drifting away into eternal separation from Him and from all good, into eternal misery, into that outer darkness where there is weeping and gnashing of teeth, where the worm dieth not and the fire is not quenched. And it is only through Jesus Christ, by faith in Him, by accepting His gift of life, and following the way of life taught by Him and His Church, that we can be saved from that awful prospect, and enter into that life of eternal joy which God has prepared for those who love Him, and follow in the way that He has shown us.

SOME PLAIN PROOFS

This is the Gospel, the message which the Catholic Church teaches, and which it claims to have received from God. Is it not worthwhile to enquire into the truth of this claim? We do not ask you to take our word for it that the Catholic Religion is God’s revelation. But we do suggest that it is worth your while to examine the matter. I have, so far as was possible in the brief space at my disposal, given some very plain proofs that the Catholic Church is the messenger of God to men. Think it over. Do not imagine thoughtlessly that your eternal welfare will take care of itself. You do not behave in that way with regard to the affairs of this life; is it wise to do so in the affairs of eternity? Take some trouble about it. Enquire further. Examine the proofs at your leisure. Examine them with the same care that you give to your worldly business, and pray earnestly to God to help you in your search. Then sooner or later you will see the truth. You will see that the Catholic Religion comes from God, and is the way that leads to God.

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Religion and The Gospels: Fact Or Fiction?

ALBERT P. HOLDEN

INDEX

IN our first booklet, ‘God and Immortality, Truths or Myths,’ we proved that there is a God, Who is the Creator and Ruler of all things, and that the masterpiece of His visible Creation, the human soul, is destined to exist for all eternity. In other words, God created man and planned for him a destiny which far surpasses that of the rest of the material creation.

God, as we know, is Supremely Intelligent and everything that He made was for some purpose. There is nothing around us in the world that does not serve some use. Plant and animal life exist because they serve man’s need. What about man himself? Are we to believe that the one creature which ranks higher than any other in this world is the one without any visible purpose? Can we, for one moment, suppose that God created man, endowed him with an immortal soul, promised him an eternal destiny, and yet left him on this earth without a purpose to serve? Such a supposition, our reason tells us, is absurd. Why should the rest of creation have a purpose and man have none? If, then, there is a purpose behind our lives, it is our duty to discover what it is. .

Can you, for one moment, imagine anyone buying a delicate machine for the purpose of repairing watches and using it to repair shoes or suchlike? When we buy an instrument we do so because we know the purpose it is intended to serve, and that if we use it in any other way we shall, in the end, ruin it completely.

Unless we know the reason for which we were created we cannot use ourselves successfully. For us to live our lives successfully and intelligently it is essential that we should know the purpose of life. We cannot tell if we are directing this life in the way we should unless we know the true direction it should take. No problem is more important than this one, and no man in his right senses can overlook or neglect it,

We have proved that we are not here as the result of an accident. If we were put on this earth with a purpose, our first and most important task is to find out what it is. God alone, since He made us, can give us a true solution to the problem of life. Therefore, it is our object to see if we can ascertain, unaided, the object of life, and if we are unable to do it of our own accord, to see if God has ever, in any way at all, told us what that object is.

Where is the solution to this problem of life to be found? The answer is, in Religion. It is this which shows us our correct attitude not only towards life but towards its Creator.

Not only is Religion of vital importance towards the right living of this life, but it is of the utmost importance with regard to the eternal destiny of the soul. We know that one day we must die, and, as reasonable creatures, we want to know what happens to us after death. It is Religion alone that can answer this question. From this it follows that it is the duty of all reasonable men to study the subject of Religion.

The man who lightly passes it over is ignoring a fact which is universally bound up with man’s existence. Not only universal as regards place, for there is nowhere under the sun that has not some form of worship, but also universal in point of time. From the earliest dawn of history the story of mankind is also the story of Religion. Long before the Christian era, Religion existed. It cannot be ignored by any serious-minded person.

What then is Religion? The answer to that is not very difficult. It is nothing more nor less than the outward expression of man’s rational attitude towards God.

In proving the existence of God we did so by use of reason alone. In the case of the Immortality of the Soul, we again used our reason as far as it would take us, but found that though the proofs we used were wonderfully strong in their appeal, yet they were not absolutely conclusive. It needed Revelation to complete them, i.e., to give us assurance that God would not annihilate the soul. So, too, with this question of Religion, we shall use our reason as far as possible to show that man has duties towards God, and then see if it is possible for us to arrive at a clear and concise explanation of them, or whether it is necessary that they should be explained by God Himself.

Now, Religion is twofold, Natural and Revealed. First of all, we must examine Natural Religion. By the use of reason man is convinced that he has duties towards God, and that he must serve Him. Further, he knows that he has duties not only towards his fellow men but also to himself. That is what we call Natural Religion. It is, in a word, the explanation of the purpose of life as far as it can be ascertained by the light of unaided reason.

We start off with the fact that because God exists, man has a duty towards Him. This is not difficult to prove. Immediately I become conscious of anyone’s existence I, automatically, contract some-kind of obligation towards him. This obligation may be very remote, but nevertheless it exists. For example, if a man enters the railway carriage in which I am travelling I am bound to see that he has the room to which his ticket entitles him. If, he, though an absolute stranger, asks me a civil question I am bound to give him a civil answer. These things are governed by ordinary politeness and I am lacking in a natural virtue if I fail to observe them.

The more I come into contact with people the stronger does this obligation towards, them become. The people with whom I work, for example, have certain claims on me. I cannot ignore them. I am bound in Justice, and Charity to consider their rights and privileges. If I were not sociable and considerate to them I should certainly be lacking in my duty.

Stronger still becomes this obligation when we consider the relationship which exists between child and parent. The child realises that to its parents it owes everything. They have given it life. They have loved it and provided for its every need. Reason dictates that it is the highest human duty to show to our parents love, reverence and obedience. Anyone despising these duties is rightly considered inhuman, and condemned by all.

Yes, strong as these feelings are, and strong as are the claims of parents, they are but a mere shadow of man’s attitude towards God. For, after all, a man’s parents are not God. They acted only under the guidance of the Creator. By developing the arguments for the existence of God, we can prove quite easily that He, the First Cause, Himself uncaused, must be infinite in being and infinite in every perfection. He is Justice, Truth, Holiness and Knowledge. Easy also to show that from Him all things proceed, by Him all things are maintained in being, on Him all things depend. It is God, and God alone Who has given man existence and to Whom he owes all his powers. Therefore, since we are conscious of God’s existence, and since we owe so much to Him, we have great obligations towards Him.

Let us examine these duties. First of all, we will take the individual as such. It is true to say that, by the use of reason alone, man realises his obligations towards his Creator. He knows that God is a Being of Supreme Intelligence, and that to Him he owes not only his existence but its preservation every minute of the day. But that is not all. To God he owes the wonderful faculties which place him above the rest of the material creation. But even these gifts would be useless without Divine aid and co-operation. Every thought of our minds, every glance of our eye is possible only because God wills it. We could not so much as raise our little finger without Divine aid. Again, man’s reason tells him that God has planted in his, soul a sense of right and wrong which gives him the certain hope that a good life, lived in accordance with Divine Commands, will bring him great happiness, not only now but for all eternity.

By using his reason, therefore, man perceives that he is infinitely inferior to God and that for everything he is dependent on Him. He is forced to acknowledge God’s Supreme Excellence and to regard Him as His Creator, Preserver and Ruler. This means that he is bound to thank Him for His goodness and to pray to Him for his needs. Further, since He is the source of all perfection he must honour him, and he must also obey Him as Master. In a word, from the use of reason, man realises that he must serve and adore God, that is, that he must profess Religion.

So far we have dealt with the attitude of the individual towards God. Let us continue our investigation a step further. Not only individuals but Society as a whole has this same duty towards God. A Society is nothing more than a group of individuals united for a common purpose under a common authority. The family is a society for the upbringing of children under the authority of their parents. The state is nothing more nor less than a collection of families united under one government for the welfare of all. Both these institutions are necessary to man. The family, since to it he owes his very life; and the state, since it is essential for his temporal well being and development. Since then, Society, either under the form of the family or the state, is essential to man, it follows that it is, of its very nature, a Divine institution. In other words, it is a creature of God. Like the individual, it is indebted to Him for its existence, preservation and the benefits it receives. Therefore, it resembles a living person and, equally, as such, owes duties to God and is under an obligation to discharge them.

So we see that not only as individuals, but collectively, man knows that God has claims on him. The duties of Natural Religion, however, besides governing our attitude towards God also determine our attitude towards ourselves and our neighbour. For, if God gave man life and wonderful faculties He did so that these things might be used fittingly and not in any way abused. That means that we are bound to exercise reasonable care of our lives and to live in a manner befitting our Divine origin and destiny. Also, since man of his very nature, finds social life a necessity, he must observe those. virtues of truthfulness, justice, charity and obedience to lawful authority which are essential to human society.

We have examined the tenets of Natural Religion and shown that they are fully binding on all men. In so doing we must admit that we have had a tremendous advantage. We already knew these principles through Revelation. For we must remember that these chief duties of man are all found in the Ten Commandments, and we set about solving a problem of which we already knew the answer.

So we must ask ourselves, would it be possible for us to come to so perfect a knowledge of these truths if we had not the aid of Revelation? Would it be true, to say that without Revelation man would be unable to understand clearly the duties of Natural Religion?

Absolutely speaking, it would not be impossible for unaided reason to acquire a sound knowledge of man’s principal duties, at least in their essential outlines, but at best such knowledge could be acquired only by the very few. . . . men of great genius, unbiased minds, and ample leisure. Historically, we know that even these few did not exist.

Amongst the ancient people, with the exception of the Jews, the grossest errors prevailed: For most men there was not one God but many. These gods were conflicting elements. Some of them were patrons of good, others of evil. Even such great philosophers as Aristotle, though acknowledging His Existence, did not recognise God as the Creator. In the sphere of worship, too, there were grave inaccuracies; some forms were even so low as to be obscene. With such notions as these it was impossible for them to have a fixed standard of right and wrong. True, there was a vague idea of a life after death but the notions of the form it would take were greatly at variance. In their attitude towards themselves and their fellowmen there was no idea of the dignity of man or of brotherhood.

The study of the general character of religion and morality amongst the pagans leads us to the conclusion that they were unable, of themselves, either as individuals or as a society, to arrive at a true notion of their duties towards God and their fellowmen.

Let us suppose, for a moment, that there had been some great philosopher who had been able to arrive at a true conception of these truths as we know them to-day. Remember that even though it is possible to know of God’s existence and our responsibility to Him, through the use of reason, yet the truths of Natural Religion, dealing with the worship that He should receive and determining man’s duties towards himself and his neighbour, depend on reasoning which would be attainable only by a man of great genius. Let us suppose, however, that such a man had existed, that he mastered these truths and devoted his life and energies to teaching them to his fellowmen. Allow that there was none to dispute his authority. Would his mission succeed? No! He must fail for the very lack of authority. He would be able to point to nothing higher than his own reasoning powers for the proofs of the truths which he taught. Men would not obey him unless it suited their convenience. A man who wished to sin would argue, “This is forbidden by one who, like myself, is liable to error, and we have no certainty that his reasoning is not false.”

So, then, we see that man, unaided, could not possibly find out the purpose of his life on earth or the goal at which he is aiming. Are we, then, to conclude that man, king of the material creation, is to be the one creature that God has placed on this earth without a knowledge of the use he has to serve? Obviously such a suggestion is contrary to what we know of Divine Goodness and Wisdom. We are led to the assurance that, since man, unaided, could not arrive at a full knowledge of Religion and the Immortality of the Soul, God Himself would enlighten him. In other words, we are led to deduce that the necessity of a direct Revelation from God is evident from the unhappy state of man in relation to his knowledge of Natural Religion.

Our next step, therefore, must be to ascertain if God has actually communicated with mankind, but before doing this we should have some idea of what is meant by Revelation. Literally, this word means ‘a drawing back of a veil.’ In other words, a communication of truth made directly by God to man. There is no need for us to prove the fact that God could have made this revelation. Obviously He can communicate with men, since it was He Who gave them the power to communicate with one another.

If we examine our knowledge we realise that the greater part of it rests on the testimony of others. All that we know of ancient history, and most of what we know of topical events, rests, not on our own knowledge of such things, but on what we are told about them. We all know that America exists, but very few of us have been there. Even though we have not seen it, we would be very foolish to deny that there is such a place. How many of us could calculate the earth’s speed round the sun, or the speed at which light travels? Nevertheless we accept the answer to these problems from people we consider competent to make such calculations.

With regard to all the knowledge which rests on human testimony, it can be accepted as true provided that there is no possibility of wilful deception or if there is no chance of mistake. So, if we can find an authority from which these two possibilities of doubt have been removed, the statements made by that authority must be infallibly certain. This authority can be none other than God. Knowing that God is Infinitely Holy, we know that there could be no question of deception in any statement that He makes, whilst His Supreme Intelligence precludes the possibility of error. Once we can convince ourselves that God has spoken, we accept His word without doubt or criticism, even though it may be possible that what He has said is above our understanding.

If we examine the qualities which Revelation must possess, we see that since God is its Author it must be infallibly certain, since there can be no possibility of error. Since it has its foundation in the truth of God Himself, it is not subject to change. There must be no picking and choosing in what we believe. Either the whole is accepted or rejected. There is no possibility of a middle course. Then, it must deal with God, how we are to serve Him, and our obligations towards ourselves and our neighbour. Furthermore, since it is the Will of God that all men are to be saved, then His Revelation must be such that it can be easily found by all sorts and classes of men. Salvation has been promised not only to the learned and those who have the leisure to seek it out, but to all men, no matter how poor or illiterate. Again, if it is for all men, then God must have devised some means by which His message could be preserved in its integrity until the end of time. For, as long as there are men on the earth, salvation is to be available. Finally, since on it depends not only the right living of this life but also the determination of Man’s everlasting destiny, it must be quite definite. If the following or rejection of it means either eternal happiness or everlasting misery, it would be most unjust of God not to make that Revelation clear and defined, but a necessity, if man is to follow the purpose God has mapped out for him in this world and to attain the end for which he is divinely destined, the next question for us to consider is: Has God made this Revelation to Mankind? Obviously, we cannot attempt to examine the credentials of other religions. We leave them to produce them for themselves whilst we devote our attention to the Religion which we profess. For it is this Religion which claims to possess the Revelation of God in its fullness and entirety.

Now, in order to prove that our Religion is that decreed by God it is necessary that we examine, first of all, its foundation and then pass on to examine whether its Founder was human or Divine.

The history of the foundation of our Religion is contained in the collection of books which we know as the New Testament. Of these, five are narratives, twenty-one are letters and one a book of prophecy. For our purpose we can confine ourselves to the first five books, since they tell the story of the foundation of Christianity; we can regard the letters and prophecies as support of the narrative.

It must be clear that we are not attempting to prove that these Books are the Inspired Word of God. Our purpose is to treat them from a human ‘point of view and prove that they are trustworthy accounts of actual happenings. This is of great importance. There is a great deal of misunderstanding outside the Church with regard to our attitude towards the Gospels. “You Catholics,” we are told, “argue in a vicious circle. You claim that yours is the Church of Christ because the New Testament says so, and then you claim that the New Testament is true because the Church says so.”

Now this is not a correct statement of our position. If we were to prove the Authority of the Church from the Inspired Scriptures, and then the Scriptures from the Church, we should be guilty of the fallacy of the vicious circle. On the contrary, we do not in any way presuppose that the Books of the New Testament are inspired but only that they are a true historical record of actual people and events.

We use the New Testament to prove that the Church’s claims were the same in the beginning as they are now, while the Church pledges her Divine Authority in support f the truth of the New Testament. Thus, both the New Testament and the Church depend on the Authority of Christ.

Therefore, it is not true to say that we argue in a vicious circle, for we are using the evidence- of two independent witnesses. It must also be noted that our Faith rests on the teaching of Christ handed down to us from the Apostles. All this teaching is not contained in the New Testament, and we use these books only when we have satisfied ourselves that they are a true account of what actually occurred.

How do we decide whether a book is reliable history or’ not? We do so by finding out if it is genuine, that is, if it is the work of the author to whom it is ascribed. Having done this, we examine if the author himself is trustworthy. In other words, if he is truthful and well-informed. Then, finally, it must be proved that it is intact, that is, that the text is substantially the same as when it left the author’s hands.

Let us apply these tests to the New Testament. The Books of the Gospels were written in the latter half of the first century. The earliest manuscripts of them date back to a very remote period. There is a Syrian version which dates back to the second century, whilst there are others that date back to the fourth and fifth centuries. Now’ this is very significant when we consider that the earliest known manuscripts of Horace, Cicero and Plato date from the seventh and. eighth centuries-and no one doubts that these latter are substantially the uncorrupted descendants of the originals. Why then do people doubt the integrity of the Gospels? The answer is that they contain A Divine Law which man must believe and follow, and that, to say the least, does not fit in with the ideas of the irreligious.

Since the manuscripts of the Gospels date so near to the originals it is manifestly impossible for them to have been re-written in that brief interval. The Church held them in great reverence. She was jealous in her care of them. So much so that she rejected and suppressed Gospels falsely ascribed to SS. Peter, Thomas and James. .

These apocryphal Gospels, which were everywhere denounced by her as non-apostolic, and spurious, fabulous and fantastic, imitations of the true Gospels, help to show the genuiness of the original four, as counterfeit coins prove the existence of the originals they imitate.

We are justified, therefore, in assuming that the New Testament is now substantially the same as when it was written.

There is also ample evidence to prove that these books are the genuine work of the writers to whom they are ascribed. The evidence of Christian and non-Christian writers of the first two centuries shows that the Gospels were widely known, studied and revered throughout the Christian World. Within a hundred years of the death of the Apostles they were in practical use all over the Church. Is it possible that the Apostles themselves, or their immediate successors, would have allowed a series of forgeries to be circulated as the history of their Master? Is it possible that the converts to Christianity,-and they included many Jews and Gentiles of high education and culture,-would have embraced a religion which demanded great sacrifices, in many cases that of Life itself, without first of all assuring themselves that its written documents were genuine? If they were not true, learned heretics and pagans would have spared no effort in attacking the sacred books of the Church, and they would have heaped ridicule on them if there had been any question of their genuiness.

Ask yourself, is it possible that the early Christians, who cheerfully gave their lives for the Faith, could have conspired to propagate, and accept, these books if they had in any way doubted their truth? We must accept the Gospels as the genuine work of the writers to whom they are ascribed.

In further support of the claim that the Gospels are genuine, we have numerous texts in the early writers. It is not possible, or necessary, to give them all.

Saint Justine of Samaria and Rome, who became a Christian in the year 130 A.D., says that the Gospels were written by the Apostles and Disciples and were read at the meetings of Christians on Sundays. (Apol. 1. 66, 67; Dial Tryph., n 103).

In the year 170 A.D. Tatian wrote his Diatesseron, or harmony on the four Gospels.

Saint Irenaeus writing in 180 A.D. says, “Mathew wrote a Gospel for the Jews in their own language while Peter and Paul were establishing the Church in Rome. After their departure, Mark also, the disciple and interpreter of Peter, handed down to us in writing the information which Peter had given. Luke, the follower of Paul, wrote out the Gospel which Paul used to preach. Later, John the disciple of Our Lord, who had reclined on His Breast, published his Gospel during his sojourn at Ephesus in Asia Minor.” (Adversus Haereses, 111.1).

The last quotation is of special importance, for the writer, goes to the trouble to tell us the source of his information. He was, he tells us, the disciple of Saint Polycarp who was, himself, taught by St. John. Is it possible that he could have fallen into error on such vital matters?

If this is not sufficient proof that the Gospels were written by the Apostles, we have the internal evidence of the writings. To a student of the language and writings of the times, it is clear that the writers were Jews, and they used the Jewish language and idioms of that time. The writers, must have been witnesses, or been told by eye-witnesses, of the events they narrate. If they had not been they could not have described so accurately the conditions, religious and political, which were in existence at the time of Christ. Just to quote one example: St. John writes of the “Probatica Pool,” where the sick used to wait for an angel to disturb the waters, and he describes it as having “five porches.” Such a thing had never been heard of, until recently when the foundations of such a pool were uncovered. There are numerous other referents, but what we have said must convince all but those who are stubbornly wedded to unbelief.

We are perfectly in order, then, in accepting the New Testament as a story of events that actually happened. Now such a story is one of two things, either it is history or it is fiction. Those who deny that the New Testament is a true historical record must hold that it is false, for there is no other alternative. But to claim that it is fiction implies a great deal. First of all, it means that the writers either invented the character of Christ or else their portrayal of Him is false. There is no other way out. For Christ lived and did the things recorded or He did not.

If then, the Gospels are false it means that four men got together and wrote a book which they knew to be untrue. It is a fact, however, that the four Gospels were written, not together but at different times. These four men produced a book which has never been surpassed for the beauty of its style and language-a book which not only greatly influenced the people of that particular age but which has revolutionized the whole of human society; which has had a greater influence on the history of the world than all the findings of the philosophers together; a book which has made the greatest sinners into Saints; which even today after two thousand years, is the guiding force of millions of ives. Is it possible that such a book could be a mere product of the imagination? Can we honestly believe that the foundation of Christianity rests on nothing more than a literary fraud?

Again, is it possible for these men to have invented the main character, Christ? We have our heroes of fiction but not one of them can be compared with that Central Figure of the Gospels. He is altogether sublime yet simple, so lovable, so noble, so tragic, so human, and yet so God-like that He is able to silence His enemies by that stupendous challenge “Which of you can conceive me of (i.e., charge me with) sin?” And, remember, they are silenced.

Further, let us turn to the men who wrote the Gospels. As we read their writings we are convinced of one thing, in order to produce a book so marvellous, which by far surpasses in beauty and power anything that has ever been written, they must have had exceptional powers. We naturally expect them to be men of great genius and outstanding ability. Never, we are forced to conclude, has there been anyone to equal them in the history of literature. Yet, such is far from the truth. Of the four who wrote there is only one, Luke, who has any claim to higher education. He was a physician. Even he, though he shows literary skill, in no way shows that dazzling genius that would be required to invent the Gospel story. Of the others, one was a tax-gatherer, one a simple fisherman and the other, one whose occupation cannot quite be determined. Most wonderful of all is the fact that the least educated, the simple fisherman, John, far surpasses them all. His contribution to the New Testament is so sublime that not any one of the greatest philosophers who has ever lived has produced anything that can, even remotely, be compared to it. When we read the Gospel of St. John, with its lofty theology of the Incarnation, we know that it could not possibly be the invention of a mere romancing fisherman of Galilee.

To expect these four men, of their own unaided effort, to invent the Gospels .is like expecting a child to produce a. mighty battleship from the building set it received for Christmas. If not even the united genius of the world’s greatest philosophers combined could have produced the Gospels, how can we reasonably believe that they were a romance invented by the four writers?

Moreover, if further evidence is still required, what motive could these men have had for deceiving, not only their own but all future generations, with lies? Men lie when they perceive that by so doing they will gain. If the Evangelists had any reason to believe that they would gain wealth or fame by their deceit, then there would be grounds for such a suggestion. But the direct opposite is the case. They knew perfectly well that in writing the Gospels, all they could expect from the world was persecution, imprisonment and death. From a modern standpoint they had nothing to gain but everything to lose. No! men do not lie when the only thing they can gain by so doing is misery and death. In point of fact, the holy lives and the sufferings in witness of the truths which they had recorded, gives the lie to the supposition that these writers wrote with the object of deceiving mankind.

Even if they had wanted, it would have been impossible for the writers of the Gospels to have been untruthful. Remember, they were not writing a history of things which had happened centuries ago, or had taken place in a distant land. The events which they described and the people they mentioned were known, either to the readers personally or those readers had known others who had been eye-witnesses of these things. If their writings had been false, there would have been a general outcry, and people would not have accepted, still less died, for them.

Often it has been argued, by critics of the Gospels, that there are passages which do not agree but contradict one another. True, there are points which can be reconciled only after careful study. Yet isn’t this, instead of being an argument against, a further proof that the New Testament is genuine? Had the Evangelists been impostors they would have taken great care that, in their writings, there was nothing which even appeared to be contradictory.

From what we have seen we are forced to the conclusion that the Gospels are true history and an eye-witness account of things which actually happened. An account of events either actually seen by the writers, or at least told to them by people who had been eye-witnesses. It is impossible for them to be otherwise.

Just for a moment, let us consider the effect of the Gospels on one who lived at the time they were written. His name was Saul, and he was the fiercest foe that the early Christians had to face. His whole energies were devoted to one end, exterminating the people responsible for the spread of the Gospels. His zeal for persecution was truly diabolical. He is on his way to Damascus, inflamed with hatred. On the road, a bright light strikes him from his horse and temporarily blinds him, and in an instant he is changed. Instead of the most violent persecutor, he becomes the most zealous teacher and missionary of the very Gospels he had vowed to exterminate. He glories in the privations and sufferings he undergoes in its services, and boasts that he is as an Apostle born out of due time.

If the Gospels are a mere romance, how is it possible to account for the history of St. Paul? Safely, we can claim that the only explanation, not only of this great Apostle, but of all subsequent Catholic history, is living confirmation that the New Testament is what we set out to prove, namely, a true historical record. In this light, we shall, in some booklets to follow, examine the Main Character of these Gospels; examine Christ’s claims not only to have brought man the necessary Revelation which men needed, but also the claim that He is its Author. Having satisfied ourselves with regard to His claims and with regard to the authorship of the Gospels, we shall pass on to find out what means He took to ensure that His teaching should be available for all mankind; since, as we saw, it must be clear, well-defined and easily accessible to all types and classes of men. This Revelation, since man’s eternal happiness or misery depends on it, is of vital importance. It is essential that we, as Catholics, should be able to give the reason to anyone that asks us, of the hope that is in us.

Nihil Obstat:

Recarredus Fleming, Censor Theol. Deput.,

@ Eduardus,

Archiep. Dublinen., Censor Theol. Deput., 28/6/1939

********

Reply To The Anglican Bishops In Australia

BY REV. DR. RUMBLE, M.S.C

INDEX

THE readers of this book will perhaps find themselves wondering why I have chosen such a title for it. I have done so because, whilst one Anglican Bishop only, the Right Rev. W. H. Johnson, of Ballarat, Victoria, is the author of the pamphlet, “Roman Catholic Assertions,” which I am called upon to answer, he has prefaced it with the most formidable array of authorities in his own Church that has ever yet appeared on the cover of any Anglican publication in this country.

Indeed, not only every Anglican Archb ishop and Bishop in Australia has expressly endorsed Bishop Johnson’s combined attack upon the Catholic Church and defence of the Church of England. Anglican Archdeacons, Deans, Canons and Heads of Theological Colleges vie with one another in supporting all that Bishop Johnson has written. And to crown it all, there is a special letter from the Archbishop of Canterbury himself, dated from Lambeth Palace on June 28th, 1952.

“My dear Bishop,” runs this commendation from the Anglican Primate of All England, “I have read your pamphlet on Roman Assertions with great interest, and I have handed it to a scholar* who has written on the same subject. Both of us entirely approve of what you say. It is indeed admirably said. You are at liberty to say that I endorse your arguments throughout. I am, yours sincerely, Geoffrey Cantuar.”

Now before David puts his pebble into his sling, he must be allowed to say one thing. Such a weight of authority and such a display of unity would be impressive if only Bishop Johnson’s booklet were not an attack on the Catholic Church. Of course all Anglican Bishops will stand together if it’s a question of opposing Rome! Bishop Robin, of Adelaide, will then forget his direct and public opposition to the teaching of Archbishop Mowll, of Sydney, concerning remarriage after divorce. Bishop Wylde, of Bathurst, will put out of his mind for the time being the “Red Book Case” which he lost at the cost of thousands of pounds because of its “Romanizing” tendencies.

Archdeacon T. C. Hammond will be content to be associated with the “Rev. Father Snell,” of the Society of the Sacred Mission, though if he himself were described as the “Rev. Father T. C. Hammond” he would be horrified. In “The Anglican,” of December 5th, 1952, there appeared a news item that the Anglo-Catholic Fathers of the Society of the Sacred Mission from Adelaide would “raid” Sydney, seeking recruits to be trained by them for the Anglican ministry. It seemed incredible. For the recruits would be trained in a type of Anglicanism which is anathema to Sydney and which Moore Theological College, under Archdeacon Hammond, exists precisely to counteract in every possible way. It was no surprise, therefore, to find in a later issue of “The Anglican” a letter from Bishop Hilliard, assistant to Archbishop Mowll, stating that the advertised campaign by the Kelham Fathers, as the wouldbe “Raiders” are popularly known, had not taken place and would not take place. The Anglicanism of the Sydney Archdiocese and that of the Kelham Fathers constitute two essentially different religions! But all doctrinal, liturgical and disciplinary differences will be laid aside when it is a question of a”united front” in proclaiming that “Rome is Wrong.”

But it is not impressive that they should present such a “united front” for such a purpose. Every sensible person would expect that. What would be remarkable would be to find the same array of Archbishops and Bishops, Archdeacons and Canons and Deans united in proclaiming just what Anglican teaching really is! But that will never be.

So much, then, for the impressivelooking endorsement of Bishop Johnson’s pamphlet. But all who have endorsed it must take responsibility for it; and to all of them I am justified in addressing this reply.

* Footnote: This unusual anonymous citation cannot but suggest that the scholar in question felt that he could not do less than comply with the Archbishop’s request to commend the booklet, but that he owed it to his own reputation as a scholar to withhold his name. That he would have had abundant reasons for wishing to remain anonymous the following pages will show.)

“THE MOST FORMIDABLE ARRAY.”

Copy of the wording of the Cover of Bishop Johnson’s Booklet.

Begins “Roman Catholic Assertions

A REPLY

WRITTEN BY THE BISHOP OF BALLARAT

THE RIGHT REVEREND W. H. JOHNSON

And Published with the Endorsement of :

His Grace, The Lord Archbishop of Canterbury, The Primate of Australia (The Archbishop of Sydney), The

Archbishop of Melbourne, The Archbishop of Brisbane, The Archbishop of Perth, The Bishop of Tasmania, The Bishop of Adelaide, The Bishop of Newcastle, the Bishop of Canberra and Goulburn, The Bishop of Armidale, The Bishop of Carpentaria, The Bishop of Gippsland, The Bishop of Bendigo, The Bishop of St. Arnaud, The Bishop of Riverina, The Bishop of Wangaratta, The Bishop of Willochra, The Bishop of Bunbury, The Bishop of Bathurst, The Bishop of Kalgoorlie, The Bishop of Grafton, The Bishop of Geelong, Bishop Pilcher, Bishop D”Arcy Collins, Bishop Baker (Principal of Ridley College), Archdeacon T. C. Hammond (Principal of Moore College, Sydney), Bishop G. H. Cranswick, Bishop J. W. Ashton, The Dean of Melbourne, The Dean of Sydney (Dr. S. Barton Babbage, Principal-elect of Ridley College), The Archdeacon of Hobart (Ven. W. R. Barrett, formerly Warden of Christ College in the University of Tasmania), The Headmaster of Canberra Grammar School (Canon David Garnsey), Rev. Father Antony Snell of the Society of the Sacred Mission (acting Principal of St. Michael’s House, Crafers, South Australia), The Rev. I. F. Church (Principal of St. Francis” College Brisbane), The Rev. Canon R. E. Sutton, (Warden of St. John’s College, Auckland, the Anglican Theological College for the New Zealand Dioceses).

COMMENDATION BY THE ARCHBISHOP of CANTERBURY Lambeth Palace,

June 28th, 1952.

My dear Bishop,

I have read your pamphlet on Roman Assertions with great interest and I have handed it to a scholar who has written on the same subject. Both of us entirely approve of what you say. It is indeed admirably said. You are at liberty to say that I endorse your arguments throughout.

I am,

Yours sincerely,

Geoffrey Cantuar.

Ends”

THE PROVOCATION

Bishop Johnson commences by saying that he has received newspapers containing persistent attacks on the Church of England, together with requests that he should answer them. But he soon makes it clear that it is my own religious “Question Box” session from Radio Station 2SM, Sydney, which is his main concern. For the replies to inquiries during that session are the ones published in almost every Catholic newspaper in Australia.

Now it is a distortion of the position to say that my replies concerning Anglicanism constitute attacks upon the Church of England. Inquiries dealt with have covered almost all aspects of religion. Naturally most questions sent to me concern the Catholic Church; and I have not refused to let listeners ask me to justify that Church against all they may choose to say to its discredit—making public their charges, however serious and bitter they may be.

Where non-Catholic Churches are concerned, all come up for discussion at times, but more questions have to do with Anglicanism than with other forms of Protestantism for the simple reason that Anglicans happen to be numerically in the majority in this country. [A position, in 2005, now occupied by the Catholic Church, whereas Anglicanism is the largest Protestant Church in Australia.] And when asked why I think Anglicanism defective compared with Catholicism, or wherein Anglican objections to Catholicism are at fault, I declare my mind clearly and dispassionately on the subject. To suggest that such replies to enquiries are gratuitous attacks upon the Church of England is to distort the position entirely.

Bishop Johnson pauses to pay tri bute to good Catholics, declaring that he has “Roman Catholic friends whose Christian life and character I admire.” Another Anglican Bishop, A. C. Headlam, of Gloucester, in his book “The Doctrine of the Church and Reunion,” attacked Bishop Gore, Anglican Bishop of Oxford, for refusing to recognize the validity of nonconformist ordinations. And he said, “It has become the fashion now for English divines, in the same breath almost in which they deny Sacraments and Orders to the Nonconformists, to indulge in eulogies of the many signs that they exhibit of the gifts of God’s spirit.” Bishop Johnson adopts that same fashion, though now in regard to the Catholic Church. Firstly he pays tribute to the admirable qualities of many Catholics in order to safeguard himself against any charge of personal prejudice, and then proceeds to say all that he has against their Church.

The official attitude of that Church and the methods of her “controversialists” he declares to be “a divisive influence in Christendom today, justas she was when she caused the divisions of the Church in centuries gone by.”

But the real truth is that the official attitude of the Catholic Church has ever been an uncompromising stand for the Christian religion in all its fulness. The divisive influence throughout the ages (not resulting in divisions “in” or “of” the Church, but “from” it) has been the spirit of schism and heresy. In the 11th century, mainly through national prejudices, the Orthodox Eastern Church separated itself by schism from the Catholic Church. In the 16th century the Protestant reformers separated themselves from the Catholic Church by both schism and heresy, denying at once the jurisdiction of the Apostolic See of Rome and teaching new and false doctrines.

Meantime, some 400 millions of Catholics [in 2005, it is 1.1 billions of Catholics] are united in faith, worship and discipline, in loyal communion with the Holy See. But the Eastern Orthodox peoples have broken up into 16 different national and independent Churches, whilst Protestantism has disintegrated into divisions and sub-divisions almost without number. The influence of the Catholic Church is unitive, whilst those divided from her carry their divisive influence with them which is ever at work within their own ranks.

ANGLICAN TEACHINGS

“The first statement I have been asked to deal with,” Bishop Johnson goes on to say, “came over the air in a Roman Catholic broadcast and was subsequently printed in Roman Catholic papers. It was in connection with the late King George VI, and contained the statement that the Anglican presentation of the Christian religion is “vague and confused”.”

Here I am indeed identified as the culprit. In one of my broadcasts I had said that Freemasonry cannot be reconciled with Christianity. Back came the challenge: The late King George VI was both a Freemason and a good Christian. I agreed. But I said that his many duties prevented him from making a deep study of Freemasonry, whilst his knowledge of Christianity was inadequate because the Anglicanism he had ever taken for granted was itself “vague and confused” in its presentation of the Christian religion. That was a statement of fact in defence of the personal integrity of our late King, not an attack upon the Church of England.

However, Bishop Johnson says that if I were asked to explain why I made such a statement, he has no doubt that I “would quote something that some eccentric Anglican has said or written.” Then he asks: “Is that honest?” All I can ask in turn is whether he thinks it honest to try to make his readers think me dishonest on no other grounds than a mere guess on his part which he feels to be right! For I would never dream of doing what he does not doubt I would do.

Never have I based the statement that the Anglican Church is “vague and confused” in its teachings on anything any eccentric individual Anglican has said or written. I have merely said what Anglican authorities themselves have said.

For example, in 1914, in his book “Ecclesia Anglicana,” Bishop Weston of Zanzibar said that t he Church of England “stands today at the judgement bar, innocent alike of narrow-mindedness and broad-mindedness, but proven guilty of double-mindedness. And until she recovers a single mind, and knows it, and learns to express it, she will be of use neither in the sphere of reunion, nor in the mission field.” Bishop Weston was not merely “some eccentric individual Anglican.” He was an Anglican Bishop in good standing with his Church.

It may be said, of course, that he was an Anglo-Catholic. Very well. Let us take another Anglican Bishop, anything but an AngloCatholic, Hensley Henson, Bishop of Durham. In his “Retrospect” he writes of the 1930 Lambeth Conference: “The truth is that, under the description of the “Anglican Communion” there are gathered two mutually contradictory conceptions of Christianity. How long the divergence of first principles can be concealed remains to be seen.”

Again it may be said that Bishop Hensley Henson was known to be a Modernist crank. Very well. Take Archbishop Randall Davidson, of Canterbury itself. Of him his successor, Cosmo Gordon Lang, said: “Seated as Archbishop on the box, he handled the three horses, Evangelical, Modernist and Catholic, fairly and adroitly; but he always seemed to me more concerned to get them together round the next corner than to envisage what the ultimate course of the journey was to be.” “Cosmo Gordon Lang,” by J. G. Lockhart, p. 231. That is practically to say that even the Archbishop of Canterbury did not know where he was going.

In 1947 the present Archbishop Fisher, of Canterbury, said of Bishop Barnes: “If his views were mine, I should not feel that I could still hold episcopal office in the Church.” But nothing was done about it. Bishop Barnes merely stated that his views were quite compatible with Anglicanism, and stayed where he was.

In 1950, Bishop Rawlinson of Derby published a book entitled “Problems of Reunion.” In it, after speaking of Anglo—Catholicism, of Broad Churchmanship, and of Evangelical Protestantism, he says: “As the Archbishop of Canterbury has expressed it, there are “tensions” within Anglicanism which are not yet resolved.” This is but a euphemistic way of saying that “vagueness and confusion” prevail.

Preaching a sermon in Somerville College, Oxford, on 13th August, 1951, the Rev. E. F. Carpenter, Canon of Westminster, said of the Church of England: “Neither its doctrinal position nor its pattern of worship is easy to state or define; nor, I think, wouldany of us know exactly where to go for them.” “The Modern Churchman”—Sept. 1951, p. 278.

I could go on almost interminably with such assertions of “vagueness and confusion” by responsible Anglican spokesmen. And if one merely repeats what they themselves say, is Bishop Johnson of Ballarat justified in making the charge of dishonesty, basing it on the guess that such a verdict can be supported only by the utterances or behaviour of “some eccentric Anglican”?

To console his disturbed people, Bishop Johnson volunteers the information that “What the Anglican Church holds and teaches is found in her official documents and in the Book of Common Prayer.” But one is compelled to ask what documents are official, and which Book of Common Prayer is meant, 1549, 1552, 1662 or 1928? And according to which interpretation of these sources, Anglo-Catholic, Evangelical Protestant, or Modernist?

In 1946 a book appeared, entitled “Laodicea in the Twentieth Century,” by Frank Bennett—a book commended to all Anglicans by theRev. Alec Vidler, editor of the Anglican periodical “Theology.” In it, on p. 25, the author says: “There have been significant claims made of late that no degree of unbelief is inconsistent with membership of the National Church.” And he declares this point of view to be “far from uncommon even among comparatively ardent adherents of the Church of England.”

Earlier, in 1933, the Rev. T. H. Whitton published a book entitled “The Necessity for Catholic Reunion.” In it he says: “In the Anglican Communion . . . not only are there at least three different and contradictory religions calling themselves “Catholic,” “Evangelical” and “Modernist,” but also these three religions are divergent. In this confusion and contradiction, what can be expected of the people? . . . There is no court in the Church of England competent to declare the truth or condemn error.”

It is rather useless, therefore, for Bishop Johnson to refer us to Anglican “official documents” and the “Book of Common Prayer.”

By-passing all this however, the Anglican Bishop of Ballarat tells us: “There you find the age-long ministry of Bishops, Priests and Deacons most carefully retained.” But again we run into trouble. The words mentioned have been retained, but not the realities for which those words stand.

There are Anglican Bishops and theologians who deny absolutely that a threefold ministry of Bishops, Priests and Deacons is essential to the Church at all. For them, the non-episcopal ministries of the Nonconformist Churches are every bit as valid. It’s only a question of which system one prefers. In his booklet, “The Genius of the Church of England,” the Anglican Bishop of Derby, Dr. Rawlinson, said, in 1949: “Continuity of Bishops was retained, not for any reasons connected with the idea of Apostolic Succession, but for reasons of statecraft. The Crown held that the clergy needed control, and that to that end Bishops were requisite; and, accordingly, Bishops there were.”

In the “National Review” of Sept. 1925, the Anglican Bishop Knox, of Manchester, wrote: “The Pope refused absolutely to recognize our Anglican Orders on the ground that our Church does not ordain priests to offer the Sacrifice of the Mass. In spite of the attempts made by our Archbishops to conceal this defect, the Pope from his point of view was unquestionably right.”

When, in 1946, the Anglican Bishop Kirk, of Oxford, published “The Apostolic Ministry,” in which he tried to maintain a genuine Catholic priesthood in the Church of England, his fellow-Anglican Bishop, Dr. Hensley Henson, described it as a “mischievous book,” and said: “In type, temper and tendency, Bishop Kirk’s essay appears to me essentially Roman, not Anglican.” “Retrospect”—Vol. III., p. 383.

Turning to the matter of faith, Bishop Johnson, of Ballarat, next tells us : “There you find the Creeds of the Catholic Church retained.”

Nominally, yes. But they are of no authority for Anglicans; or at best as each one likes to interpret them. Dr. H. L. Goudge, Regius Professor of Divinity at Oxford, says in his book, “The Church of England and Reunion,” p. 316: “In regard to faith, nothing is de fide in the Church of England except the Creeds, and there are legitimate differences about their interpretation.” In an address at Girton College, Cambridge, in the year following the publication of Dr. Goudge’s book, a prominent Anglican, R. B. Henderson, M.A., Headmaster of Alleyn’s School, said: “Those who frame Creeds and impose their acceptance on others forget the simple Apostolic warning, “The devils believe and tremble.” Nowadays they sign and chuckle.” And he adds: “There is no test of orthodoxy of which any practical use can be made.” “The Modern Churchman”—Sept. 1939, p. 382.

As for the Rule of Faith, Bishop Johnson tells us: “There you find it laid down that the Holy Scriptures contain all doctrine required of necessity for eternal salvation through faith in Jesus Christ, and that nothing can be taught as necessary to eternal salvation which cannot be concluded and proved by the Scriptures.”

Now that teaching is found both in the Anglican ordination rite and in Article VI. of the Thirty-Nine Articles of Religion. Anglo-Catholic writers have described those ThirtyNine Articles as the “forty stripes save one” with which the Church of England is scourged, borrowing the expression from St. Paul’s description of his own sufferings.

The teaching, of course, is not true, and it is self-contradictory. You cannot say that one must believe that nothing can be taught as necessary to salvation unless it be contained in Holy Scripture when nowhere in Holy Scripture will you find that one must believe any such thing. Bishop Johnson declares this teaching to be “true to the New Testament, to the Primitive Church and to the early Fathers.” But it is not. St. Paul wrote to the Thessalonians: “Hold the traditions which you have learned, whether by word, or by our epistle.” II Thess., 2: 14. He did not say, “Nothing is necessary unless it be contained in Holy Scripture.”

As for the Primitive Church, the Acts of the Apostles tell us that the firstChristians “were persevering in the doctrine of the Apostles.” Acts 2: 42. They had no written New Testament at all.

And typical of the early Fathers we find St. Augustine writing in the fourth century: “There are many things from the Apostolic tradition which are not found in their writings nor in the councils of their successors, yet which are believed as taught by them and derived from them because they are preserved in the whole Church.” Epistle. 54, De Baptismo, (On Baptism,) Book II, chapter 7, number 12. St. Augustine knew well the teaching of the earlier Fathers who had preceded him.

And now, having put before his readers, for their approval, the Anglican position, Bishop Johnson proceeds to ask their disapproval of the Catholic position. “The Roman Church,” he says “has broken away by promulgating new dogmas, of which the Scriptures, the Primitive Church, and the early Fathers knew nothing.”

To that general assertion, for which no proofs are here given, I will content myself with saying that certainly the Scriptures, the Primitive Church and the early Fathers knew nothing of the Church of England as by law established in the 16th century, nor of its derivative Churches, separated as they all are from the main body of Christians throughout the world who have remained true to the Catholic Church. But Bishop Johnson begins to come to something concrete when he declares: “Furthermore, perversions that helped to cause the Reformation still flourish in the Catholic Church. Things that provoked Luther to revolt are still there.” Most Anglicans, of course, try to forget Martin Luther, holding that their Church is a “Via Media,” or “Middle Way,” which escaped from the errors of Rome without going to the other extreme and falling into the errors of Martin Luther. But, letting that go, we must consider the two “things” Bishop Johnson specifically mentions.

Firstly, he says: “The “Double Standard” is still there.” Goodness only knows what his readers will make of that! To most of them it will only mean some form of”Jesuitical Duplicity.” But in its real meaning it is a most unfortunate charge to come from an Anglican Bishop in these days. Let us look a little more closely into the matter.

In order to justify the suppression of the Monasteries and Convents at the time of the Protestant Reformation, and to account for the absence of Religious Communities in the Church of England for some 300 years, Anglicans used to accuse the Catholic Church of teaching a “Double Standard,” namely, that real holiness was expected of monks and nuns, but not of the laity. Monks and nuns should aim at perfection, but ordinary Catholics had not got to do that. They could content themselves with something less. A “pass degree” was good enough for them, and they could leave all attempts at an “honours degree” to the Religious Orders. That charge was quite false, for the Catholic Church has ever taught that Our Lord’s words, “Be, you all, perfect as your heavenly Father is perfect,” apply to all Catholics without exception according to the state of life which happens to be theirs.

But what Bishop Johnson has forgotten is that during the last 100 years or so there has been a steady revival of the Religious Life in his own Anglican Church. The “Guide to the Religious Communities of the Anglican Communion” lists 16 different Religious Orders for men, and 72 for women.

The Anglican Bishop Kirk, of Oxford, wrote recently: “After 300 years of largely undeserved obloquy and suspicion against the Religious Life, its restoration was no easy matter.” He declared that Anglicans did not understand “the call to a special dedication to God and separation from the world.” Speaking at Mirfield last year (1951) he said that “the Religious Communities of the Anglican Communion have changed the face of the Church.” “I value more than I can say,” he said, “the Religious Communities, because in them the Church has made her great effort to present this one truth, the thing that matters above all others, that men and women should continually be lifting their hearts andsouls to God.”

On 12th July, 1952, Archbishop Garbett, of York, speaking on the 60th anniversary of the Community of the Resurrection, said that he regarded the revival of Religious Orders in the Church of England as one of the supremely great gifts of the Oxford Movement, and he boasted that there were more Anglican nuns in England today than there were Catholic nuns at the time of the Protestant Reformation.

Now that is true. But Anglicans cannot have it both ways, sneering at Rome’s “Double Standard” of high virtue for monks and nuns, and low virtue for ordinary people, whilst boasting about the restoration of Monastic and Convent Life in their own Church—the very thing on which they based their false charge of “Double Standards” against Rome!

Meantime, whilst all that is merely a matter of relative standards of virtue, when it comes to a question of straight-out sin and immorality, the Catholic Church as no other takes an unwavering stand against it.

Thus, writing in the “Hibbert Journal,” July 1930, apropos of the Lambeth Conference of that year, the Rev. J. M. Lloyd Thomas, a Protestant clergyman of Birmingham, said: “The supreme attraction of Rome is to be found in its ethical rigorism. Rome is the one uncompromising corporate witness to that moral code of Christendom which preserves Western Civilization from final collapse. It represents the last loyalty of the human race to its own highest moral standards. . . . There is no authoritative moral theology which can tell us what is the final judgement of Anglicans and Free Churchmen on questions such as marriage, divorce, birth control, euthanasia, companionate experiments [in “marriage”], abortion, suicide.Only Rome speaks with one voice on such themes, and these are the issues of life and death.”

And the Rev. J. M. Lloyd Thomas adds: “We can all be magnanimous enough to recognize that Rome in a uniquely tenacious temper, is a steward of the mysteries and ofthe moral witness of the Christian Church.” But Bishop Johnson, of Ballarat, has not such magnanimity. He can find room only for the trumped-up and antiquated charge that Rome has a “Double Standard,” demanding a high degree of virtue from members of her Religious Orders, and contenting herself with a lower degree of virtue from the laity. For the rest, about 10 per cent of Anglicans in this country attend their Church, whilst 90 per cent do not. That ought to be more than enough to occupy the attention of the Anglican Bishops of Australia.

The second specific thing Bishop Johnson here mentions in his effort to discredit Rome is this. “Roman Catholic clericalism,” he says, “virtually makes the laity an inferior caste subject to the clergy.” Our Catholic laity, of course, did not tell him that. They have never felt in such a way. I certainly had no such experience as a layman before ever I thought of becoming a priest, after I had transferred from the Anglican Church to the Catholic Church.

But there is a question here for Bishop Johnson to weigh well. Nonconformists who won’t have “Priests or Prelates” at any price, make exactly the same charge against Anglicanism as that made by the Bishop against the Catholic Church. Does Bishop Johnson believe that Anglican episcopal consecration or priestly ordination sets men apart in a special category within his own Church, to teach the people committed to their charge, as the Anglican Ordinal declares, and also to admonish them both in “public and private” as need shall require? If so, would he agree with the Nonconformists that this is to turn the laity into an “inferior caste?” If not, why does he adopt towards the Catholic Church their attitude towards his own Anglican Church?

He goes on to urge that such a distinction between clergy and laity “denies the Pauline doctrine of the Body of Christ in which all the members are subject to Christ Himself.” One is tempted to ask how Bishop Johnson gets over the hierarchical constitution of Bishops, Priests and Deacons in his own Anglican Church. Or does he deny any intrinsic difference between clergy and laity in the Church of England, regarding even himself as but a “mitred layman?” If so, let him never complain again that Rome refuses to recognize Anglican Orders as valid!

As for his remark about the Pauline doctrine of the Body of Christ in which all members are subject to Christ, that simply doesn’t touch the question as to whether, whilst all members are subject to Christ, there are differences of function, power and authority amongst the members themselves according to the very will of Christ. In the Catholic Church, whilst priest and laity are subject to their Bishop, their Bishop is as subject to Christ as they are. Will Bishop Johnson say, “In our Anglican Church all are subject to Christ, and therefore no one is subject to me?” Or if he does claim episcopal authority over his flock, does he admit that he does so in defiance of the Pauline doctrine of the Body of Christ? It is quit e evident that he does not even understand the Pauline doctrine of the Church as the Mystical Body of Christ.

HENRY VIII AND THE CHURCH

Bishop Johnson devotes the next section of his booklet to the perennial question of Henry VIII as founder of the Church of England. And he begins by creatinga smokescreen, declaring that “Roman Catholic writers . . . are not certain whether to say that Henry VIII founded the Church of England, or to say that Queen Elizabeth did so.”

Let me hasten to assure him that Catholic writers labour under no uncertainty whatever on that matter. When, in 1534, Henry VIII repudiated for the first time in English history the supreme ecclesiastical authority of the Pope and vested it in himself, he founded a new “Church of England” every bit as much as the English colonists in America founded a new nation in the United States when, in 1776, they repudiated the authority of the Throne of England and vested it in themselves. Catholic writers are equally clear that Henry’s new Church was Protestantised in teaching and worship under Edward VI, (Henry’s son) that it was temporarily abolished as a constitutionally independent Church by the reconciliation of England with Rome during the reign of Queen Mary, (Henry’s Catholic daughter) and that Elizabeth (Henry’s other daughter) undidMary’s work, reviving Henry’s constitutional break with Rome together with the Protestantism of Edward VI. The Church of England, as we know it, therefore, dates back to Elizabeth and ultimately, allowing for the brief Catholic restoration under Mary, to Henry VIII. via Edward VI. There is no uncertainty amongst Catholics about this, and one would have to be singularly obtuse not to be able to grasp the position.

That is the end of the smokescreen. Now for history itself. Bishop Johnson contents himself with quoting one historian’s verdict. “Freeman, Regius Professor of History at Oxford,” he writes, “states the truth when he says: “Nothing was further from the mind of either Henry VIII or Elizabeth than that either of them was doing anything new. Neither of them ever thought of establishing a new Church”.”

Bishop Johnson has no other reason for saying that Freeman states the truth in that matter than that he would like it to be the truth. But, alas, it was not the truth, as I will soon show.

Firstly, Edward Augustus Freeman was appointed Regius Professor of History at Oxford in 1884. He was undoubtedly an eminent historian until King Charles” head came into the picture. For he was an ardent Anglican and a close friend of the Anglican Bishop Stubbs, of Oxford. As a result, however reliable he might be in other matters, he was definitely not reliable when Anglicanism was involved. Then he was no longer impartial, and his prejudices coloured his judgement. That is not merely my opinion, held because I would like it to be true. The “Cambridge History of English Literature,” Vol. XIV., p. 73, says of him that his “failings were most palpable in controversy, in the conduct of which he lacked a due sense of proportion.”

Now let us turn to two utterly detached historians on this particular subject. It must be remembered that, as a prelude to the “Act of Royal Supremacy,” Henry had enacted a “Statute of Appeals,” in which he sought to justify his actions. Commenting on this subject, in his “History of English Law” (5th Edition, 1931), Sir W. S. Holdsworth, Professor of English Law at Oxford University, says: “The preamble to this Statute of Appeals is remarkable, partly because it manufactures history on an unprecedented scale, but chiefly because it has operated from that day to this as a powerful incentive to its manufacture by others on similar lines. Nor is the reason for this phenomenon difficult to discover. The Tudor settlement was a characteristically skilful instance of the Tudor genius for creating a modern institution with a mediaeval form. But in order to create the illusion that the new Anglican Church was indeed the same institution as the mediaeval Church, it was necessary to prove the historical continuity of these two very different institutions. . . . It was not till an historian arose who, besides being the greatest historian of his century, was both a consummate lawyer and a dissenter from the Anglican as well as from the other Churches (i.e. F. W. Maitland, LL.D., D.C.L., late Downing Professor of Lawat Cambridge University) that the historical worthlessness of Henry’s theory was finally demonstrated.”

What then are we to say to Bishop Johnson’s next statement that Henry and Elizabeth were, in their own eyes, “reforming, not pulling down or setting up, but simply putting to rights”?

Firstly, if they were merely “putting to rights,” they might have gone about it in the same way, instead of Elizabeth insisting on doctrines for which Henry would have sent people to the stake! But that is a minor point. Was Henry, in his own eyes, not pulling down or setting up? Far from it. He knew quite well that he was pulling down and setting up.

In his book against Martin Luther, “The Defence of the Seven Sacraments,” published in 1521 (13 years before his break with Rome), Henry wrote in the second chapter: “Certainly if anyone goes through the history of former times, he will find that, since the conversion of the world, all Christian Churches have been obedient to the See of Rome. We find that even the Greeks, although the seat of Empire was transferred to their midst, in all that pertained to the Primacy in the Church, obeyed the See of Rome except at those times when they had fallen into schism.” Again, in the 12th chapter, he wrote that Martin Luther “makes a distinction between the Church of the Pope and the Church of Christ, although the Pope is the Supreme Pontiff in the same Church of which Christ is the Head.” The man who wrote those words knew quite well that when he did the very thing for which he had blamed Martin Luther he, too, was setting up a new and independent Church.

They were only “getting rid of innovations and corruptions,” insists Bishop Johnson. But “they” were doing nothing of the kind. I have already pointed out that Henry was so bent on retaining things declared to be “innovations and corruptions” by Edward VI and later by Elizabeth that he had people hanged, drawn and quartered for not accepting them! He wanted to be free from Papal authority, but insisted on other Catholic teachings and practices, such as the Sacrifice of the Mass, the doctrine of transubstantiation, all seven Sacraments, auricular confession, the celibacy of the clergy, prayers to the Virgin Mary and to the Saints, and also for the souls in Purgatory.

Common to both Henry and Elizabeth would be Bishop Johnson’s further assertion that “they were casting off a usurped foreign jurisdiction,” were it indeed “usurped” and “foreign.” It was, however, neither usurped nor foreign.

It was not foreign, for ecclesiastical jurisdiction in the Church, abstracting as the Church does from all national considerations, could in no way be called foreign. The Catholic Church conforms to the teaching of St. Paul in Gal., 3: 28: “For as many as have been baptized in Christ have put on Christ. There is neither Jew nor Greek; there is neither bond nor free; there is neither male nor female. For you are all one in Christ Jesus.” >From the religious point of view no member of the Catholic Church is a foreigner to another member; and there can be no question of the spiritual jurisdiction of a “foreigner.”

Nor was Papal jurisdiction usurped. When was it usurped? No one can say. In his Penguin Special, “The Gospel for Tomorrow,” (1941) the Anglican Bishop of Truro, Dr. J. W. Hunkin, wrote, “Anglicans may maintain that they were only repudiating an authority wrongly acquired by the Pope. But actually the Pope had had this degree of authority conceded to him by Western Christendom, and in this respect Anglicanism was a real break-away from what had become the established order of the Western Churches.” Archbishop Garbett, of York, also, speaking of the controversies between the Popes and English kings before the Reformation, wrote in his recent book, “Church and State in England,” p. 40, “The true nature of these controversies is often misunderstood . . . as the attempt of an indignant Church and patriotic nation to escape from thraldom to Rome. However much we might wish this had been so, the actual facts give no support to a theory so congenial to later-day Protestantism. . . . Papal authority and jurisdiction were accepted in England as in the rest of Western Christendom.”

PETER AND THE PAPACY

In order to try to undermine the right of the Pope to supremacy over the whole Church, Bishop Johnson now feels obliged to go back to the very beginning. “What are we to say,” he writes, “about the Roman Catholic claim that Peter was the Rock?” Of all the possible replies to that question, even from his own point of view, I could think of many better ones than those he has chosen!

He says truly that Archbishop Kenrick of St. Louis, U.S.A., had prepared an answer which he purposed to deliver at the Vatican Council in 1870—a speech which was not delivered, but published at Naples in the same year. Now Archbishop Kenrick was one of those who, before it was defined, was opposed to the dogma of Papal Infallibility. His speech, of course, expressed his opposition to the defining of the dogma; but it was too long for delivery in the Council. It would have taken four hours! When, however, the dogma was defined he at once accepted it; and when, later, he was asked about the arguments in his speech, he said he had sufficiently indicated their lack of worth by his public proclamation of the dogma of Papal Infallibility in his Cathedral as soon as he arrived back in his Archdiocese in America. Of what benefit is it for Bishop Johnson to quote the argument of a man who himself treats it as of no force whatever?

“In it,” declares the Bishop, “the Archbishop said that a clause in the Creed of Pope Pius IV. required that Scripture should be interpreted only according to the unanimous consent of the Fathers.” But that was one of the major fallacies in the Archbishop’s speech. He had quite misunderstood the clause in question.

Had he gone back to the actual Decree of the Council of Trent, on which the Creed of Pope Pius IV. was based, he would have found that the Council forbade anyone to interpret Scripture in a way which would conflict with any meaning for which the unanimous consent of the Fathers existed. There is no need to find the unanimous consent of the Fathers concerning the meaning of every passage in Scripture before one can accept an interpretation of it! There are many passages in Scripture many of the Fathers did not discuss at all. What one must not do is to maintain an interpretation of Scripture against the unanimous consent of the Fathers where such unanimous consent exists. It is really a waste of time, therefore, for Bishop Johnson to quote the words of Archbishop Kenrick which he finds so impressive.

Archbishop Kenrick, he says, “pointed out that five different interpretations were given by the Fathers of the words, “On this Rock I will build my Church.” Seventeen Fathers taught that Peter was the rock; eight taught that the whole band of the Apostles was the rock; 44 taught that the rock was the faith expressed by St. Peter; 16 taught that Christ was the rock; and there was the interpretation that the rock was the whole body of the faithful.”

But here again, Archbishop Kenrick had overlooked the fact that these different interpretations were not mutually exclusive. Fathers who taught that Peter was the rock taught the other interpretations also; and those who taught other interpretations taught also that Peter was the rock. And no Father can be quoted denying that Peter was the rock. In reality, different Fathers stressed different aspects of one and the same truth that Peter was the rock upon which Christ founded His Church. Seventeen Fathers taught that Peter was the rock. Eight, that the Church was founded upon the rock of the Apostles, of whom Peter was the chief. Forty-four said the rock was the faith confessed by St. Peter in the sense that the Church would ever be preserved in the true faith through Peter. Sixteen speak of Christ as the rock, intending that although St. Peter was head of the Church, it could only be as through Christ and subject to Christ. Those who taught that the rock was the whole body of the faithful meant no more than that St. Peter by reason of his supreme pastoral office was representative of the whole Church.

“Archbishop Kenrick,” declares Bishop Johnson, “summed the matter up in these words: “If we are bound to follow the greater number of the Fathers in this matter, then we must hold for certain that the word “Petra” means, not Peter professing the faith, but the faith professed by Peter”.” Archbishop Kenrick, however, was obviously illogical in first laying it down that we must interpret Scripture only according to the unanimous interpretation of the Fathers, and then insisting on an interpretation not, on his own showing, in accordance with such a unanimous interpretation. But he was wrong both in his ideas about the authority of the Fathers and also about the meaning of what they wrote. So we can dismiss his views on the subject, even as he himself when he accepted the decision of the Vatican Council repudiated the value of his own arguments.

Meantime, an Anglican scholar of today, Dr. T. G. Jalland, in his book on “The Church and the Papacy,” writes as follows: “It may be said, however, that the evidence as to the patristic views has exegetical interest only, since, to quote a modern Protestant writer, it is “quite certain, and is now generally admitted, that the words, “this rock” refer, not to Christ, nor to Peter’s confession of faith, but to Peter himself”.” Dr. H. L. Goudge, Regius Professor of Divinity at Oxford, also maintains, in the “New Commentary on Holy Scripture,” that Peter personally is the rock.

“We need only add,” continues Bishop Johnson, as if he has sufficiently proved his previous point, “that the fact that different interpretations of the passage have been held by men of eminence in the Church is sufficient reason for stating that this particular text could never have been regarded as the charter of an important claim.” But, as I have already said, the different interpretations of the Fathers were not mutually exclusive, but explanations of the profound significance of St. Peter’s position as the rock-foundation of the Christian Church. In any case, this particular text is not regarded as the charter of our important claim. It is but one of many, even though it is an outstanding one. And it retains its force despite Bishop Johnson’s superficial remarks concerning it.

“The only thing certain,” he urges, “is that the Fathers did not hold, and never expressed the belief that St. Peter was constituted by Our Lord the Rock to the exclusion of the other Apostles.” We shall let St. Cyprian answer that. Writing in his “De Catholicae Ecclesiae Unitate,” (On the Unity of the Catholic Church) about 251 A.D., St. Cyprian says: “And after His resurrection He said (to Peter), “Feed my sheep.” Upon one He builds the Church, and entrusts the feeding of the flock to him. And although He gives equal power to all the Apostles, He yet establishes one chair, thus arranging by His own authority the source and test of unity. The others were indeed what Peter was (i.e. Apostles), but the primacy is given to Peter, and we are shown one Church and one chair. . . . He who deserts the chair of Peter, upon whom the Church was founded, does he really imagine that he is still in the Church?”

The usual Anglican reply to these words is that of Archbishop Benson of Canterbury, namely, that they are not authentic, but an interpolation. But the Anglican Dr. Trevor G. Jalland, in “The Church and the Papacy,” p. 162, candidly admits that Benson’s position must be abandoned, and that Batiffol, Chapman and Bevenot have abundantly proved the words authentic, and not the unscrupulous interpolated forgery Archbishop Benson declared them to be.

“It is interesting to note,” writes Bishop Johnson, as a kind of afterthought, “that in the Roman Missal the Collect for the Vigil of SS. Peter and Paul reads: “Grant, we beseech You, Almighty God, that You would not suffer us, whom You have established on the rock of the Apostolic Confession, to be shaken by any disturbances.” But is he really so blind as not to see that if such a prayer is found in the Roman Missal—as it is—it would not be there unless the Catholic Church were fully aware that it in no way conflicts with her teaching on the primacy of St. Peter?

ST. PETER SUPREME HEAD

Bishop Johnson shows even less discernment in the passages of Scripture he quotes against that primacy. When he says that, if we study the New Testament, we find that in St. Matthew 19: 28, our Lord promised His Apostles 12 thrones, one for each, without saying that St. Peter’s throne was to be above the others, he adduces a symbolical and eschatological passage which is not concerned with the visible Church in this world, and which has no more to do with the case than the flowers that bloom in the spring! Meantime, if Bishop Johnson would like a little problem upon which to exercise his exegetical prowess, since there were twelve Apostles apart from St. Paul, who was yet undoubtedly an Apostle, which of the 12 thrones is to be his? To solve that problem the Bishop will have to find some interpretation of the twelve symbolical thrones in heaven other than the one he has so superficially adopted.

He next invokes St. Paul’s words in Ephesians 2: 20, that “the Church is built upon the foundation of the Apostles and Prophets, Jesus Christ being the chief Cornerstone.” But it is a waste of time to quote passages of Scripture which have no bearing on the topic under discussion. Obviously, from the text itself, that Our Lord was the chief Corner-stone does not exclude the fact that He built His Church on the foundation of the Apostles, and the whole question is whether amongst the Apostles constituting the foundation St. Peter had the primacy. With that matter the text does not deal, and had no intention of dealing. The appeal must be to texts that do deal with a given subject, not to those that do not.

The bland statement is then thrown in that “Neither in the writings of St. Paul, St. John, nor St. James do we find a trace or germ of Papal power.” That is not true of St. Paul and St. John; whilst, once more, St. James in his epistle was concerned with other matters which gave no occasion for introducing the topic.

Continuing his series of unsupported denials, Bishop Johnson then says: “St. Luke, the historian of the missionary labours of the Apostles, gives no indication that Our Lord conferred on St. Peter the kind of primacy and supremacy which the Roman Catholic Church claims for him.” So he may wish to think. But his fellow Anglican, Dr. Trevor Jalland, in his “Church and Papacy,” p. 54, declares that to St. Luke “we owe the unique Dominical “logion” (saying) in 22: 31, 32 . . .”Simon, Simon, behold Satan has sought to have you all, that he may sift you [plural] as wheat; but I have prayed for you [singular], that your [singular] faith fail not. And do you [singular], once converted, establish your [singular] brethren”.” And Dr. Jalland adds, “If it is not easy to see here the institution of a permanent office, we can scarcely do less than recognize in it a personal commission of leadership and initiative.”

On p. 64 of the same book Dr. Jalland writes after completing a close study of the New Testament evidence: “Our survey is now complete. With the evidence before us it is difficult to imagine that there can be any satisfactory final conclusion but one, namely, that the extensive authority assigned by anticipation to St.Peter in the “Tu es Petrus” [“You are Peter” Mt 16:18] is amply supported. . . . It is Simon the Rock alone whose attitude appears to possess a certain finality, and from whose decision there would seem to lie no appeal.”

Bishop Johnson claims to have rea d Dr. Jalland’s book. There is the less excuse for his ignoring of the findings of the latest Anglican scholarship and trying to bluff the simple readers for whom his booklet was intended. And that reproach applies to all who endorsed his arguments throughout.

An appeal is then made to Acts, 8: 14, where, the Bishop tells us, “we are told that the Apostles sent Peter and John. This does not sound as though Peter was the ruler, let alone the Supreme Head and Pope.” But it does not sound as if he was not to one who keeps in mind all other information given in the New Testament about St. Peter. For elsewhere the primacy of St. Peter is made clear; and that all the Apostles who happened to be at Jerusalem at the time should agree that Peter himself should go, together with John, to visit Samaria in no way conflicts with that primacy. Dr. Jalland, in the book I have quoted, p. 58, is honest enough to write: “So far as the testimony of the Acts is concerned, it is evident to the most casual reader that in almost half the narrative he (St. Peter) is the most prominent figure. His is the initiative which leads to the election and ordination of Matthias to fill the vacant apostleship; his voice first bears witness to the nature and reality of the new Pentecostal gift;to him is accorded by special revelation the divine purpose that the devout “God- fearers,” no less than those actually “within the covenant” should be admitted to share the privileges of the Gospel; by him the freedom is secured which one day his fellow-apostle (St. Paul) will make known throughout the Roman world. These are but a few, yet significant illustrations of the important and outstanding place taken by him in the reconstituted “ecclesia” of God.”

But “in Acts 15: 6 -19,” urges Bishop Johnson, “we are told that St. James presided at the first Council of the Church. If St. Peter was the Supreme Ruler why did he not preside?” The answer is not far to seek. St. James, as Bishop of Jerusalem, where the Council was held, presided as host to his fellow-apostles. But he did not preside as holding the primacy. Again let me offer Bishop Johnson of Ballarat the benefit of Anglican scholarship as recorded by Dr. Jalland who writes: “James gives his vote at the apostolic council, and as president of the local church records it last; but it is the summing up of a chairman, not the verdict of an arbiter. If anything, the narrative suggests that it was the evidence of Peter which turned the scales of decision in favour of St. Paul.” Dr. Jalland also says that earlier, according to the epistle to the Galatians, St. Paul had visited Jerusalem, and did not hesitate to affirm that his chief purpose in doing so was to see St. Peter. “He admits,” writes Dr. Jalland, “that he did encounter James “the Lord’s brother” as well, but makes it clear that this meeting was purely accidental. Why was it so important to introduce himself to St. Peter? Can we exclude the possibility that St. Paul had some problem of a pastoral or administrative nature, regarding which he had reason to think that St. Peter’s opinion would be not only valuable but decisive?”

Another antiquated objection raised by Bishop Johnson occurs in the words: “St. Mark’s Gospel is known by scholars to represent St. Peter’s own account of the life and teaching of Christ; yet it contains no mention of the claim that St. Peter was made Supreme Head and first Pope.” But does Bishop Johnson deny that all four Gospels are of equal authority? Will he say that what is found in three of them is nullified by omission to speak of it on the part of one of them? St. Mark’s omission of the Petrine claims has been explained by some by the humility of St. Peter, who preferred to leave it to others to speak of his high office in the Church. If we do not like that explanation, we can try to think out another. If we cannot think of any other, we can say simply that we do not know. But we are certainly not justified in ignoring positive evidence elsewhere—and still less in regarding omission to speak of something as a denial of it! elsewhere—and still less in regarding omission to speak of something as a denial of it!

4), speaking of St. Mark’s Gospel says: “In addition to those passages in which St. Peter is mentioned in company with others, though always first in order, in at least half a dozen others he alone is specified by name. In this way the author seems to wish his readers to recognize, either that he acted as leader or spokesman of the rest, or else for some unexplained reason was to be distinguished from them. . . . If we had this Gospel alone . . . it is perhaps not less remarkable that we should also be ignorant of much that might be said in disparagement of his character.” That latter fact alone would indicate a very high degree of humility on the part of St. Peter. But Bishop Johnson is not impressed by that.

“Assuming that St. Peter wrote the first epistle that bears his name,” he says, “it is strange, even if he were the most modest of men, that St. Peter failed to safeguard his own authority and the organization of the Church by an explicit statement, if he believed in anything like the present Roman Petrine claims.” If it is only a matter of assumption for Bishop Johnson whether St. Peter wrote the epistle or not, then it is also a matter of assumption for him as to whether it is evidence of St. Peter’s silence or not. And he might just as well not have mentioned the matter. We Catholics, who accept the epistle as St. Peter’s, are not worried by the considerations introduced by the Bishop. Conditions when St. Peter wrote it were very different from those now. In these days we may have to stress the primacy of St. Peter against Protestant denials of it by the Witnesses of Jehovah and up through all grades of Protestantism, including the various schools of Anglicanism. But there were no denials of it in apostolic times, and St. Peter had no need whatever to defend his own authority and the organization of the Church by assertions of his office and authority, an office and authority which all admitted.

But did all admit it? Bishop Johnson says that “St. Paul certainly di d not regard St. Peter as Supreme Head of the Church when he rebuked him, as we read in verse 11 of Galatians Chapter 2” That threadbare objection, however, is more to be expected from smaller Protestant sects such as the Christadelphians or the Seventh Day Adventists, not from an Anglican Bishop. Let me once more put at Bishop Johnson’s disposal the scholarship of his fellow Anglican, Dr. Trevor Jalland. The Bishop, of course, might prefer the views of Dr. Littledale, whose book, “Plain Reasons Against Joining the Church of Rome,” in its 1924 edition, he recommends to his readers. But he omits to mention that Dr. Littledale’s book was written over 70 years ago [1880], and that the reprinting of it was for those Protestants whose thinking has never got past1880; just as Maria Monk’s grotesque exposure of Convent Life is still being reprinted for those whose minds have not got past 1850. Dr. Jalland gives us the present position of Anglican scholarship, with the accumulated results of the 70 years of study and research since Dr. Littledale’s polemical outbursts.

What, then, does Dr. Jalland say of St. Paul’s rebuking of St. Peter, as recorded in Galatians Chapter 2? I have already mentioned Dr. Jalland’s use of that very epistle to the Galatians in order to show that St. Paul’s account in it of his visit to Jerusalem to see Peter indicates the importance of St. Peter and suggests the need of getting a decision from him. And in the account of St. Paul’s rebuking Peter he finds another tribute to St. Peter’s primacy, not a denial of it as Bishop Johnson imagines!

Here are Dr. Jalland’s words: “It is sometimes argued that . . . St. Paul’s confessedly critical attitude towards his fellow-apostle is utterly inconsistent with any belief in a peculiar prerogative enjoyed by his colleague in virtue of a Dominical Commission. But can we explain why St. Paul makes so much of Petrine inconsistency and only notices in passing the same defect in Barnabas? . . . We may admit that St. Peter was inconsistent, and may even grant that the Pauline protest was justified. . . . Yet St. Paul must have had a reason for so emphasizing the seriousness of his coapostle’s action. We can only infer that a decision made by St. Peter . . . was liable to be accepted as the norm. . . . Only so does the real implication of the Pauline protest become clear.” “The Church and the Papacy,” p. 60.

I might add that the matter concerned was one, not of doctrine, but of discipline. St. Peter had refused to eat with the Gentiles, on the ground that Jewish converts might not like his doing so. St. Paul thought it better to make Jewish converts realize that the Gospel was just as much for the Gentiles as for them.

The point of all this, however, is that Dr. Jalland would tell Bishop Johnson, his fellow Anglican, that the significance of this incident is the very opposite of that imagined by him; and that it tells in favour of, and not against the primacy of St. Peter!

Bishop Johnson concludes his appeal to Scripture by saying: “So it can be stated emphatically that in the New Testament there is no idea of the Roman Catholic claim of Supreme Headship or Infallibility.” To which I can but reply that it can be, for anything can be stated emphatically. But it cannot be stated truly. A proposition is of value, not by the fact that it is stated emphatically or even repeatedly, but by its having had good reasons advanced on its behalf. Those Bishop Johnson does not produce. But he is not disheartened.

“Furthermore,” he says, “the claims which the Roman Catholic Church makes for the Papacy are contrary to the teaching of the Fathers . . . and the decisions of the Councils of the first four centuries.” But that also does not happen to be true. He can produce no quotations from the Fathers and no decisions of any of the Councils of the first centuries denying Papal Supremacy.

At most, Protestant opponents of the Catholic Church can point to a fact which everyone should expect; namely, that the evolution of the formularies of the Church had not reached within the first four centuries that degree of clarity and precision which they were to attain in later centuries. After all, it was only in the 4thcentury that the Church really “got going,” when freedom to develop according to its own innate principles was granted by Constantine’s putting an end at last to the three centuries of pagan persecutions. And it is absurd to imagine that the development of the Church was legitimate for the first four centuries, but not after that.

Meantime, the innate principles which found a later and more developed expression in the Church are evident enough from the writings of the earliest Fathers, St. Clement of Rome (96 A.D.); St. Ignatius of Antioch (107 A.D.); St. Irenaeus (202 A.D.); and St. Cyprian, quoted earlier in this book, (250 A.D.). In 314 A.D. the Council of Arles in France sent the account of its deliberations to Pope Sylvester with the words: “To the most beloved Pope Sylvester. Being united by the common bond of charity, and by that unity which is the bond of our Mother, the Catholic Church . . . we salute you with the reverence which is your due, most glorious Pope.” In 325 A.D. two Legates were sent by the same Pope Sylvester to the Council of Nicea, who, with Hosius, Bishop of Cordova, had precedence amongst all the Bishops there.

“These Councils,” declares Bishop Johnson, “(recognized) the high position which the Bishop of Rome occupied in the Church on account of the importance of the city of Rome.” It is a pity, but that just will not do. Ecclesiastically Rome derived its importance from the primacy of St. Peter who died there. And the high position of the successor of St. Peter in the bishopric of Rome was acknowledged throughout the whole Church both Eastern and Western. This cannot be explained by the political importance of Rome, or when in the fourth century the seat of Empire was transferred to Constantinople the primacy would have been regarded as belonging to the Bishop of that city and no longer to the Bishop of Rome.

But such was not the case. The primacy remained with the Bishop of Rome. Dr. Jalland, in his “The Origin and Evolution of the Christian Church” (1948) p. 178, writes: “However much the See of Rome may have owed to the secular prestige of the city in which it was located, there is all but universal testimony in the Church of the pre-Nicene age that ultimately its “potior principalitas” (“Greater Authority.” Dr. Jalland translates it as “Superior Origin.” Dr. B. J. Kidd, also Anglican, as “Leading Position”) depended on the tradition, if not the fact, that its “ecclesia” (Church) had been “founded and erected” by none other than the two apostolic princes, Peter and Paul, and that it perpetuated their “paradosis” (Apostolic Teaching). Amid all the changes which the fourth and succeeding centuries were to bring, the conviction that the See of Rome was “par excellence” the Apostolic See remained the fundamental basis of its pre-eminent status.”

“They accorded to the Bishop of Rome a preeminence of honour,” explains Bishop Johnson, “but not of power or of jurisdiction.” Here, once more, I must refer him to Dr. Jalland’s book, “The Church and the Papacy.” On p. 22 of that book this Anglican scholar says that the evidence shows “that the Roman See was recognized by other Churches as possessing from very early times, if not in fact from the beginning, an undoubted primacy in the sphere of doctrine, at least in the sense of a right to be heard in preference to others. . . . Equally, as we venture to believe, it will emerge that the primacy of jurisdiction . . . if not traceable so far back as the doctrinal primacy, is at least contemporary in respect of its development with the evolution of episcopal jurisdiction.” As all the Bishops who attended the Councils were well aware of their episcopal jurisdiction, the evidence gathered by Dr. Jalland is more than enough to prove that the Councils accorded primacy of jurisdiction to the Bishop of Rome.

Dismissing for the moment all intervening centuries, Bishop Johnson next says: “The modern claims for the Papacy were forced through in spite of the strenuous opposition of learned theologians of the Roman Catholic Church.” We should be grateful for the admission that at least those learned theologians had the opportunity of stating their opinions and doing so strenuously. But there were, of course, other theologians, not less learned, who disagreed with them.

Nothing is to be gained, however, by dwelling on the merely human element where the Councils are concerned, save perhaps from the purely historical as detached from the religious point of view. Anglicans may say with Archbishop William Temple of Canterbury, “I believe in the Holy Catholic Church and regret that it doesn’t exist.” But we Catholics believe in the Holy Catholic Church and know that it does exist; and that it depends for its inerrancy in vital matters upon the guidance and protection of the Holy Spirit. All who have the Catholic Faith know that the teaching authority of the Catholic Church is ultimately safeguarded by the divine element from any difficulties arising from the human element. If one lacks the Faith, and takes natural views of the Church only, ignoring spiritual and supernatural considerations, then he will concentrate on human factors only and condemn himself to an inevitable misunderstanding of the true nature of the Catholic Church as Christ intended it to be.

“So it was,” writes Bishop Johnson, “that the eminent Roman Catholic historian, Lord Acton, was compelled to complain that the Roman Catholic Church was placed at a hopeless disadvantage in every reasoned discussion.” Lord Acton, of course, was not “compelled” to make such a complaint, though it was quite in keeping with his character that he should choose to do so. Not that he ever wavered for a moment in his belief in the Catholic Church. But he had been far too greatly swayed by his studies in the German Universities.

Herbert Butterfield, a Methodist and Professor of modern history at Cambridge, in his book, “Christianity and History” (1950) says, on p. 9, “It was often noted in the earlier decades of the present century how greatly it had become the habit of Protestants to hold some German scholar up their sleeves—a different one every few years but always preferably the latest one—and at appropriate moments strike the unwary Philistine on the head with this secret weapon, the German scholar having decided in a final manner whatever point might have been at issue in a controversy. . . . The tendency was not confined to Protestants, however, for almost a century ago the young Acton was warned not to play this game of waving German professors at his fellow Catholics; though he not only failed to take the advice, but added the weight of his influence to a tendency that was making historical scholarship perhaps overarrogant and certainly too pontifical.” Bishop Johnson is welcome to his “too pontifical Lord Acton.” Whether this book shows that a Catholic is placed “at a hopeless disadvantage in every reasoned discussion” must be left to the reader to decide.

CONTINUED IN PAMPHLET 2

Reply To The Anglican Bishops of Australia

BY REV. DR. RUMBLE, M.S.C

INDEX

PART 2

PAPAL INFALLIBILITY

From the question of St. Peter’s Primacy the Anglican Bishop of Ballarat now turns to that of Papal Infallibility. To this he begins by objecting that “The Infallibility of the Pope is a new dogma promulgated by the Roman Church.”

Now it is true that it was not defined until 1870 by the Vatican Council. But it is difficult to see how Bishop Johnson can object to the promulgation of a new dogma then, since he professes to accept the Council of Nicea, of the fourth century, which promulgated the dogma, new as a “dogma” in those times, that Christ is of one substance with the Father. He cannot object on principle to the promulgation of a new dogma. If he objects to the Catholic Church doing in the 19th century what it did in the 4th it can only be because the Church to which he belongs is not the Catholic Church. But let us take the grounds he himself offers for his objection.

“The more one gets to know about the Decree of Infallibility, and how it was arrived at,” he writes, “the more unsatisfactory it seems from the point of view of Christian standards.” Yet if he would study up the full history of the Council of Nicea, which he says he accepts, he would logically have to reject that on the tests he applies to the Vatican Council! Speaking of the latter, he says that “It is significant that 88 Bishops voted against the decree of Infallibility at the General Congregation onJuly 13, 1870.” But the only significance in that is that those who wanted to vote against the proposal were quite free to do so. Of the votes cast, 451 were in favour of the doctrine being defined, 88 against it, and 62 for it provided some amendments were adopted. That “in addition, about 70 were absent on the day and gave no vote, whilst others had returned to their dioceses on account of illness” would not have affected the result, as there would still have been a majority for it had all been present.

“ July 18th,” writes Bishop Johnson, “was fixed as the date for the final public session when the definition was to be solemnly passed in the presence of the Pope. It is estimated that about 250 seats were vacant.” True. But nothing is gained by such an observation.

Since the decision of promulgating the Definition had been made on July 13th, there was no need for those to remain for the formal ceremony who did not wish to do so. On the day itself, when the members of the Council who were present were asked to give a formal renewal of their approval, 533 did so, whilst two declared that they still did not approve. But as soon as the definition of Papal Infallibility had been pronounced all present, including the two who had voted against it, declared their whole-hearted acceptance of the Dogma as part of the Christian Faith. And the Bishops who were not present equally accepted it. They had the Catholic Faith which the Anglican Bishop of Ballarat lacks. They knew that if the Dogma was actually defined, the promised protection of the Church by the Holy Spirit would have been operative to preserve the Church from error. All the reasons for and against the definition urged in advance were but a human element which could not provide one way or the other a motive for faith. The acceptance of the Dogma by faith was an act of faith, not in merely human reasoning, but in the promise of Christ and the power of the Holy Spirit. As the Council of Jerusalem had said: “It has seemed good to the Holy Ghost and to us,” so could the Vatican Council.

If a man has not the Catholic Faith, he can but view things as an outsider and must be content not to understand. On the other hand, take the case of Bishop Las Casas, of Hippo. He had voted against the definition on July 13th. He absented himself from the session of July 18th, when the Dogma was defined. But he accepted with profound humility and faith the moment it was defined. And in his will he left instructions that if any sermon was preached at his funeral rites, the preacher wasnot to say that he was against the definition merely as “inopportune.” The preacher was to say that he was against the doctrine being defined at all. And he added these magnificent words: “I remained fixed in my opinions so long as the Council had not pronounced. But once the definition was made, God gave me the grace to be able to say with entire truth, in the fulness and tranquillity of faith, “I believe today in the Infallibility as thoroughly as I disbelieved in it yesterday”.” In other words, his faith was not in himself, but in the Catholic Church, as he had ever professed in the Apostles” Creed. And once the Dogma was proclaimed, he knew he had to choose between declaring the Catholic Church wrong and admitting that his own previous opinion was wrong. He knew that his faith in Christ and in the guidance of the Church by the Holy Spirit left but one decision possible. The Catholic Church was right. It was he who had been mistaken.

“Cardinal Newman,” declares Bishop Johnson ,”was very disturbed by the whole happening.” He was. Not that he objected to the doctrine of Papal Infallibility. He made it clear that he had always believed in that from the day he had become a Catholic. But he thought it inopportune that it should be defined as a Dogma at that stage. He felt that such a definition would be premature, and that insufficient time had been allowed for the deliberations of theologians. He thought that the exact and precise formulation of the terms of the definition might suffer from this. And owing to the very importance of the matter he was deeply concerned about it, and hoped, and said so openly as he was free to do, that the definition would not be made. Naturally, in his state of anxiety, he was a prey to many unjustified fears. But when the definition had been given he accepted it at once and expressed his relief by saying that no more was defined than he had ever believed and held. One who wishes to argue against the truth of the Dogma of Papal Infallibility will find nothing in Cardinal Newman’s attitude to assist him.

Bishop Johnson then urges that, in a letter quoted on p. 309 of Wilfred Ward’s “Life,” Newman writes: “I am told that some wicked men, not content with their hitherto cruel conduct, are trying to bring in the doctrine of inherent infallibility. . . . Perhaps they would like to go on to call him (the Pope) a ViceGod, as some actually did, or sole God to us.” Here it is impossible not to accuse Bishop Johnson of two suppressions, one of which could possibly be accidental, but the other of which is simply dishonest.

Cardinal Newman’s letter was written on August 8th, after the definition had been promulgated on July 18th. In that same letter he had earlier written that he had “ever believed as much as the definition says.” It was in a postscript to the letter that he wrote: “I am told that some wicked men, not content with their hitherto cruel conduct, are trying to bring in the doctrine of inherent infallibility, of which there is not a hint in the definition.” Why did Bishop Johnson deliberately omit those last words? Because then it would not look like an objection on the part of Cardinal Newman to the defined Dogma.

In reality, he was objecting, not to the definition, but to those, of whom he had vaguely heard, who wished to go beyond what the definition declared and make the Pope inherently infallible; that is, not only at the actual moment of defining a dogma, but habitually. And far from suggesting that such an exaggeration is in keeping with Catholic doctrine, he branded it as just the opposite.

As for Bishop Johnson’s quotation, “Perhaps they would like to go on to call him (the Pope) a Vice -God, as some actually did,” Cardinal Newman wrote “as some one actually did.” Obviously he is speaking of that one—whom he does not identify—as an isolated crank who was not representative of Catholicism but whom the wicked men he has already condemned might be tempted to imitate.

The Cardinal’s words have absolutely no bearing on the doctrine of Papal Infallibility, but only on the possible behaviour of certain individuals against the mind of the Church. Yet by judicious suppression of very vital words Bishop Johnson clearly hopes his readers will take this passage from Cardinal Newman as Cardinal Newman never intended it to be taken; namely, as an argument against the Dogma of Papal Infallibility as defined by the Vatican Council. It would appear that Bishop Johnson and all the Bishops, including the Archbishop of Canterbury, who endorsed all that he said, believe after all that the “end justifies the means.”

“MARIOLATRY”

One does not expect in these days to hear the word heading this section of his booklet from the lips of a Bishop of the Church of England. In Anglican circles generally the expression has long since fallen into disuse. Evenin the book “Ways of Worship” prepared by a Protestant Theological Commission for preliminary study by all members of the World Council of nonCatholic Churches at Lund, a special chapter was devoted to “Mariology,” or the “Theology about Mary.” The expression “Mariolatry,” suggesting the idolatry of Mary, was carefully avoided. But apparently Bishop Johnson could not bring himself to be so gracious, and lapsed into the language of what Dr. Nathanael Micklem, the Congregationalist, described in a letter tome as “the Protestant Underworld.”

He begins the section by saying that “the doctrine of infallibility has been used to bring forward new doctrines concerning the Blessed Virgin Mary.” He conjures up the vision of the Pope sitting back and saying, “Well, now. In 1870 the Pope was defined to be infallible, so I think I will define something about the Blessed Virgin Mary!” But the difficulty with that picture is that in 1854 Pope Pius IX. defined the Dogma of the Immaculate Conception without having any defined Dogma of his own Infallibility to use for that purpose. “In 1950,” writes Bishop Johnson, “the Pope proclaimed as a dogma the Bodily Assumption of the Blessed Virgin.” Pope Pius XII did so, and could have done so whether his own Infallibility had previously been defined as an Article of Faith or not—as in the case of Pius IX. For the infallibility of the Pope was the generally accepted doctrine of the Church in any case.

“Devout and learned Catholics resisted,” continues the Bishop, “but their resistance was of no avail.” One wonders what he is trying to prove! All Catholics already believed in the Bodily Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary, as did, and do, the Greek Orthodox Churches. When it was suggested that the Pope should define the doctrine as a dogma or article of faith, there were some devout and learned Catholic theologians who thought things should be left as they were, without any formal definition being pronounced. But they were the few—the very few. The vast majority of Catholic theologians and of the Catholic Bishops throughout the world, not less devout and not less learned than the disapproving minority, urged the definition. Bishop Johnson has no grounds for thinking only those devout and learned whom he can quote as preferring that the doctrine—in which they firmly believed, as he does not—should not actually be defined. Nor is he justified in describing their expression of opinion as resistance, for they were quite prepared to accept the definition should the Pope decide upon it; and once the dogma had been defined, did accept it. But an Anglican who belongs to a Church which can define nothing, and has reconciled itself to tolerating all degrees of belief” and unbelief, has little hope of understanding the Catholic point of view.

“Now any Roman Catholic who entertains even an interior doubt on this matter,” complains this Anglican Bishop, “knows that he will be held to bring his soul into peril.” Would he, had he been at the Council of Nicea, have opposed the condemnation of theArians, pleading tearfully, “Now anyone who entertains even an interior doubt about the Divinity of Christ knows that he will be held to bring his soul into peril?” As Catholics knew then where they stood as regards the substantial participation in the Divine Nature on the part of Christ, so they know now where they stand as to whether the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary is actually an Article of the Christian Faith or a pious opinion of secondary importance even though universally believed by Catholics throughout the world. Meantime, since Bishop Johnson is not a Catholic, it doesn’t affect him—unless he is worried lest the definition should dissuade prospective converts from becoming Catholics!

“Cardinal Newman was aware of this kind of danger,” he says, proceeding to quote the Cardinal as anticipating another kind of danger altogether, having nothing whatever to do with the question of the Dogma of the Assumption. “He (Cardinal Newman) wrote in the letter already quoted: “I heard lately of someone (English or Irish) who said that we ought not to pray to God at all, but only to the Blessed Virgin. God preserve us if we have such madmen among us, with their lighted brands”.”

Cardinal Newman prefaced that statement with the words: “Unless my informant was mad.” He would not guarantee that his informant was even sane. And what he had heard was of “some one”—an erratic individual once more whose extravagance was not in keeping with Catholic teaching. And he practically says that if his informant was not mad, then people who speak in such a way are mad and likely to do harm by giving an utterly wrong impression of the Catholic religion. But that has nothing whatever in common with the definition of the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary into heaven. For the rest, readers of Bishop Johnson’s booklet can console themselves with Cardinal Newman’s assurance that if ever they do become Catholics they will not be expected to adopt such ideas as he declares to be quite un-Catholic and insane.

“What would Cardinal Newman have said,” asks Bishop Johnson, “to the news cabled from New York in June, 1952?” The news was that when some stolen treasures were recovered, Monsignor Cioffi announced to his congregation: “The Blessed Mother has heard our prayers. A miraclehas happened.” Cardinal Newman would have said that there was no reason whatever why Monsignor Cioffi should not have been quite right; and that he was perfectly entitled to hold and express the opinion he did.

The stolen treasures consisted of a golden and jewel-studded crown from the statue of the Blessed Virgin Mary in the Church. The people prayed for its return. Those who stole it returned it next day anonymously. Does Bishop Johnson brand the prayers to Mary as “Mariolatry,” or the “idolatry of Mary”? If so, he would find many in his own Anglican Church who differ from him. Does he blame Monsignor Cioffi for declaring the return of the crown within 24 hours a remarkable and extraordinary event beyond any merely natural expectations? If so, no common-sensed person would agree with him. Certainly one thing Cardinal Newman would not have said, namely, that the incident in any way constituted an argument against the truth of the Catholic Church.

And since Bishop Johnson attaches so much weight to Cardinal N ewman’s opinion, would it not be better for him to ask what Cardinal Newman would have said about Bishop Johnson’s own Anglican position? When the “Globe” newspaper in England published rumours that Newman was disillusioned by Catholicism and was likely to return to Anglicanism, he at once wrote to that paper: “I have not had one moment’s wavering of trust in the Catholic Church ever since I was received into her fold. I have no intention, and never have had any intention, of leaving the Catholic Church and becoming a Protestant again. . . . Return to the Church of England! No. I should be a consummate fool (to use a mild term) if in my old age I left “the land flowing with milk and honey” for “the city of confusion and the house of bondage”.” In a letter to a friend he said that he hoped his denial had settled all such rumours once and for all.

“This is in keeping,” continues Bishop Johnson, “with the teaching of Liguori’s “Glories of Mary,” a book that was formally recommended by Cardinals Wiseman and Manning. This book teaches: “The salvation of all depends on their being favoured and protected by Mary”.”

Now that is quite sound Catholic doctrine. It is common alike to the Catholic Church and the Greek Orthodox Churches. All who are saved, whether they realize it or not in this life, will know in heaven that they owe their salvation not only to the redemptive work of Christ, but also to the favour and protection of Mary, ever associated with that work. The Rev. T. M. Parker, an Anglican, insists upon this in the book “Ways of Worship,” prepared for the Lund Conference of non-Catholic Churches on Faith and Order. “The chief difficulty felt by any Protestant about both Orthodox and Catholic veneration for Our Lady,” he writes, “is that it seems to him a kind of excrescence upon Christian faith and Christian prayer. How should we answer him? Surely by calling his attention to the place of Mary in the economy of redemption. The Blessed Virgin is not an extraneous figure in the story of human salvation, but a chief actress in the drama, who plays a key part.” And he adds: “A form of prayer which does not mention her is to some degree incomplete. Not only does it make men think of God apart from the Incarnation and Body of Christ; it also runs the risk that when we do turn to Mary we shall forget her relationship to God. Never to think of God without Mary, and never of Mary without God, is a safe rule.” I commend to Bishop Johnson these words of his fellow Anglican, the Rev. T. M. Parker, of Pusey House, Oxford.

But there is worse to come. “Often,” the Bishop quotes from St. Alphonsus Liguori’s book, “we shall be hear d more quickly if we have recourse to Mary and call upon her name, than we should be if we called upon the name of Jesus our Saviour.”

At least St. Liguori admits, that whatever Mary’s influence, it is Jesus Himself Who is our Saviour. But let us take the Saint’s words as given by Bishop Johnson. There is nothing wrong with them. For it is not a question of preferring Mary to Our Lord, but of preferring Our Lord’s way of granting certain graces and blessings to our own way of wanting them. As that may need explaining, consider this. If Our Lord wills to honour His Mother by granting special favours to those who have recourse to her, then recourse to her in prayer is the surest way of getting them. To disprove that, Bishop Johnson must disprove that Our Lord ever wills to honour His Mother in such a way. He will not succeed in doing so if he spends the rest of his life at it.

Then, too, we must consider the relative values of our prayers to Our Lord, and her prayers to Him. If we appeal to her intercession andshe prays for us, her prayers will carry more weight with Him than our own. St. James tells us: “Pray for one another that you may be saved. For the continual prayer of a just man avails much.” (James 5: 16). Who will deny that the prayers of the Mother of Christ must be of great avail? To quote once more Bishop Johnson’s fellow Anglican, the Rev. T. M. Parker, of Pusey House, Oxford, we find him writing: “The man who takes no notice of Mary and the whole company of heaven in his prayers will be in danger of a wrong approach to God upon whom he desires to concentrate . . . his whole vision of God will be to some degree defective, as if he were spiritually colour-blind. . . . We Anglicans . . . have suffered much from just such a deprivation.” “Ways of Worship,” p. 287.

“The Blessed Virgin,” writes Bishop Johnson, “is rightly honoured above all women.” She is. Though she is not honoured rightly by the vast majority of Anglicans. “But the Roman Catholic Church,” hastily adds the Bishop, “has permitted practices and promulgated dogmas concerning the Blessed Virgin Mary that have no warrant in the New Testament and were unknown to the early Church.” Statement for statement, that is not true. For the rest, there is most certainly no warrant in the New Testament for the Church of England to which Bishop Johnson belongs; and it was quite unknown to the early Church, dating as it does from the 16th century only.

THE ANGLICAN COMMUNION

Having, as he believes, refuted Catholic objections against the claims of the Church of England, and undermined any appeal the Catholic Church might ever have had for his readers, Bishop Johnson proceeds to set out what his own Anglican Church has to offer them. But again it is chiefly a list of protests against Rome.

He begins by decla ring: “The Anglican Communion takes her stand with the early Church which, as we are told in Acts 2: 42, continued steadfastly in (1) the Apostles” Doctrine (later expressed in the creeds); (2) the Apostles” fellowship (continued in the Episcopal Ministry); (3) the Breaking of Bread and Prayers (sacraments and public worship); and, as we have seen, she had made (4) the Bible the court of reference both for the Church’s theology and also for its practical life in keeping with the tradition of the Church in the first five centuries. These four principles constitute what is known as the Lambeth Quadrilateral.”

Now, in the first place, it is not right to say that the Anglican Communion takes “her” stand on these four principles; for the Anglican is not one Church. Bishop Johnson should have said: “The different Churches claiming to belong to the Anglican Communion take “their” stand, etc.” Yet even then he would be wrong, for they don’t take a stand. On every one of the points mentioned there is the utmost diversity of belief among Anglicans. And as nothing emanating from the Lambeth Conference claims to be authoritative, no Anglican is obliged to believe the socalled “Quadrilateral” statement to be final—even should he know of its existence. It is an inadequate, ambiguous and in part inaccurate statement of basic Christian principles in any case.

“The Roman Church claims,” writes the Bishop, “that by refusing to acknowledge the supremacy of the Pope the Anglican Church has cut itself off from the Catholic Church. The English Church at the Reformation claimed to reform herself, and there is no Catholic principle which forbade her to do it. In so doing she did not withdraw herself from the Catholic Faith or the Catholic Church; indeed she professed her intention of remaining within the Catholic Church, true to the Apostolic Faith as contained in the Creeds of the Catholic Church.”

Had it been merely a question of a reform in morals, a change from laxity to fidelity and fervour in the Christian lives of Bishops, priests and people, no Catholic principle would have forbidden it. But the setting up of a constitutionally different Church by Henry VIII, with himself as its head, and the changes in doctrine and worship under Edward VI and Elizabeth, are quite a different matter. Those changes meant, not the reform of the existent Catholic Church in England, but the substitution of a new, schismatic and Protestant Church in its place.

As for the assertion that the new Anglican Church did not “withdraw herself from the Catho lic Faith or the Catholic Church,” those are mere words divorced from reality, words with which Anglicans seek more and more to beguile themselves. In his autobiography, Vol. II, p. 135, Bishop Hensley Henson, of Durham, wrote: “Can the Church of England really do what unquestionably many of its Bishops and Clergy are now insisting that it ought to do, namely, repudiate the Reformation? Nevertheless, in spite of this dramatic change on the part of the Anglican clergy, the facts of history remain, and fix forever the character of the Church of England as one of the Reformed or Protestant Churches.” So spoke the Anglican Bishop of Durham in 1924.

Undismayed, however, Bishop Johnson says: “What the English Church did at the Reformation was not to separate fromthe Church Catholic, but to renounce the Roman errors and to repudiate Roman domination.” Yet what is the truth? In accordance with the new line mentioned by Bishop Hensley Henson, modern Anglicans are trying to get back as fast as they can most of the doctrines they repudiated at the time of the Protestant Reformation, declaring them to have been wrongly thrown away. But even if they get them back, that will not make them Catholics. For always the repudiation of Papal Supremacy remains. If that does not separate them from the Catholic Church, how is it that all Catholics elsewhere, in Italy, Spain, France, Germany, Ireland and throughout the world refuse to recognize Anglicans as their fellowCatholics; though no such attitude towards Englishmen existed before the Protestant Reformation? It is no use saying that you belong to a family if all others in that family positively refuse to admit that you do!

“As Bishop Gore said,” adds the Bishop of Ballarat, “the Eastern Church is like a vast breakwater, meeting and throwing back the Roman claim long before it reaches us.” But Bishop Gore, when he said that, spoke very foolishly. For the Greek Church lapsed into schism in 1054 A.D. Long before that the Roman claim to supremacy was fully acknowledged in England, even as it had been hitherto acknowledged by the Eastern Church. That is evident from the fact that, in 668 A.D., Pope Vitalian appointed as Archbishop of Canterbury the Greek monk Theodore, a member of the Order of St. Basil. The Pope personally consecrated Theodore in Rome, and after his arrival in Canterbury sent him the following document: “It has seemed good to Us to exhort you and on this present occasion to commend to your wisdom and piety all the churches on the island of Britain. Hence, whatever privileges and ordinances have been established and ratified by Our predecessor St. Gregory in favour of his legate Augustine . . . We grant to you forever.” After those words, written by Pope Vitalian in 669 A.D. to the Greek Theodore whom he had appointed to be Archbishop of Canterbury over all the churches in England, it is absurd to say that the Greek Schism of 1054 met and threw back the Roman claim to supremacy long before it reached England!

Bishop Johnson then assures us that “the English Church recognizes the value of Cyprian’s principles, which gave to each Bishop a large measure of independence.” If, of course, there be any English Church it cannot be the Catholic Church, or even part of it, as the Bishop likes to maintain. The Catholic Church is one and the same Church throughout the world. It may exist in different countries, in Italy, in Spain, in France, in America, in Canada, in Australia, in England. But it abstracts from nationality. The mere fact that Bishop Johnson thinks of his Church as English brands it as a limited national institution, and not Catholic.

As for St. Cyprian, whatever the measure of independence he maintained for individual Bishops, it was never to the exclusion of dependence upon the Papacy. He insisted upon communion with the Pope as successor of St. Peter to whom was given the Primacy as a condition of membership of the Catholic Church. St. Cyprian, it is true, writing as he was in the middle of the 3rd century, had not the benefits of later clarifications through centuries of study of the principles he upheld. But Mosheim, the Protestant historian, says that they must be blind who do not see that St. Cyprian’s teachings must issue in the modern Catholic system. (De Gall. Appel. ad Conc. Univ. Section 13).

Bishop Johnson tel ls us that the English Church “is content to receive with thankfulness and reverence the determinations of General Councils.” Yet if we look up the Book of Common Prayer to which he refers us as an authentic source of Anglican doctrine we find ourselves expressly warned that General Councils may err, and have in fact fallen into errors. But worse still, the Bishop says: “Let it be remembered that the reforming Councils of Constance and Basle (A.D. 1415 and 1432) asserted in the strongest language the subordination of the Pope to General Councils. But in the Roman Church the Pope has asserted himself over Councils. Thus the imperialistic ambitions of Rome have triumphed.”

Since the Church of England repudiates all General Councils beyond those of the first five centuries, it forfeits the right to quote the authority of any later Councils! As for the Councils of Constance and Basle, they certainly lacked authority in all those decisions which were not truly Conciliar but Gallican and National, and which did not succeed in gaining explicit Papal approval. In speaking of Rome’s “imperialistic ambitions,” Bishop Johnson is thinking, of course, not in ecclesiastical but in national terms from which members of a national and racial Church can hardly expect to escape.

“The Roman Church, as we have seen,” he continues, “makes much of the theory of development.” Better say that it makes much of the principle of development. Speaking of His Church, Our Lord said that it was like a grain of mustard seed, which indeed is the least of all seeds, but which when it is grown up, is greater than all herbs and becomes a tree. (Matt. 13: 31). A tree develops a host of apparent differences from a seed, though all the differences were embodied in principle in the seed.

“But the Papal claim,” objects the Bishop, “is not a development of the original idea of the Episcopate so much as a reversal of it.” Bishop Johnson’s fellow-Protestants, the Nonconformists, will tell him that there was no original idea of any Episcopate. When he has finished justifying the necessity of an Episcopate against them, it will be time enough for him to discuss his differences from the Catholic Church as to how the original idea of the Episcopate should have developed. Also it might be well for him first to get his fellow-Anglicans to agree with him as to the nature of the Episcopate.

“The original idea of the Episcopate which the English Church has preserved,” he then complacently observes, “secures for the Church a duly representative government and provides, by the confederation of relatively independent Churches, a system of checks upon onesided local tendencies.” Unfortunately for him, a confederation of, not relatively but absolutely independent Churches as far as any single unifying authority is concerned, does not constitute a Church anything like the Church as it is put before us in the New Testament.

In his book, “The Church of England and Reunion,” the Rev. Dr. H. L. Goudge writes (p. 168): “In the New Testament believers in Christ not members of theone visible Apostolic Church are nowhere to be found. We hear, indeed, of “the Churches” as well as of the Church, but these Churches are very different from “the Churches” of which we hear today. The Churches of Galatia or of Macedonia are the Christian communities, all alike under St. Paul’s authority, in the Galatian and Macedonian cities. . . . The relation of the Churches to the Church is like the relation of our local post-offices to the G.P.O. in London. There is only one Post Office, private enterprise not being here permitted. But the G.P.O. has its local representatives in the towns and villages, and in dealing with them we are dealing with the Department itself. Everywhere in the New Testament the Church is one, and only one.”

That description fits perfectly the one Catholic Church throughout the world and subject to the authority of the Bishop of Rome as the successor of St. Peter; but it cannot be reconciled with an association of independent self-governing Churches such as the “Anglican Communion” represents! The truth is that the constitutionally independent Churches calling themselves “Anglican” are no more one Church than the nations associated in the “League of Nations” were one nation. That Dr. Goudge did not see that can have been due only to other prepossessions which prevented his following the truth wherever it might lead.

As for Bishop Johnson’s “system of checks upon one -sided local developments, what is that system and where is it to be found? No efficacious system of checks exists in the Anglican Communion of loosely associated and independent Churches. In the Catholic Church there is a universally acknowledged authority; but not in the Anglican Churches.

“The Papacy,” declares the Bishop, “represents the triumph of imperial absolutism over constitutional authority, and of centralization over consentient witness and cooperation.” Yet quite the opposite is the truth. It represents the preservation of constitutional authority in the Catholic Church as opposed to the triumph of anarchical independence which prevails in the separate Anglican Churches; and it secures the consentient witness and co-operation of all Catholics throughout the world under that one constitutional and unified hierarchical authority. Bishop Johnson may call that “imperial absolutism,” but in his own Anglican Communion of independent Churches the outstanding thing is their lack of any one constitutional authority binding them together; their lack of consentient witness, with their different and divergent High, Low and Broad Church presentations of doctrine and worship; and their lack of co-operation save, of course, in denouncing Rome.

HOW DID SCHISM COME?

In answer to that question, theBishop says: “Rome excommunicated Elizabeth.” True. Pope Pius V did so in 1570. As Elizabeth had succeeded to the throne in 1558 at least no one can say that the Pope did not give her time to come to her senses! She had, of course, professed to be a Catholic during the reign of Mary; and when she came to the throne England was a Catholic country, in union with the Pope, like all other Catholic countries.

But instead of remaining a Catholic Elizabeth followed the example of her father Henry VIII, abandoned the Catholic Church, and set herself up as the supreme authority in England, in all things spiritual as well as temporal. The doctrine and worship of the Church of England, however, was to be as it was in the reign of Edward VI, Protestant. As all the Catholic Bishops save one, Kitchin of Llandaff, refused to accept Elizabeth instead of the Pope as head of the Church, she deposed them all except Bishop Kitchin, who thenceforth lapsed into obscurity. Then Elizabeth appointed an entirely new Protestant hierarchy of her own. Informed of this, and of much else, Pope Pius V in the end excommunicated her and forbade Catholics to attend Church of England services. But here comes the strangest of all strange results from looking through the wrong end of the telescope.

“Rome,” explains Bishop Johnson, “separated English and Roman Churchmen.” The perversity of that statement should surely be evident. Elizabeth had separated England from Rome, following in the footsteps of Henry VIII. As Henry VIII was later excommunicated, so Elizabeth was later excommunicated. English Catholics who remained loyal to their Church were instructed that they could not in conscience attend church services provided by clergy who had abandoned union with Rome for the Elizabethan Establishment. It was Elizabeth, therefore, and all who followed her who separated. themselves from the ancient Church and Faith. Bishop Johnson may say, as he does, that Rome “did not exclude the English Church from the Catholic Church. She had no power to do so,” but the simple historical truth is that the English Church, substituted for the Catholic Church in England, excluded itself from the Catholic Church.

But now comes the conclusion for which the Bishop has been preparing the way. He says that Rome “created a sc hism in the Church, leaving both separated parties within the Communion of the Church Catholic.” That’s an impossibility, of course. There can be no schisms in the Church Catholic, but only schisms from the Church Catholic. Schism means separation together with a proclamation of independence. The Elizabethan Church separated from the Papal Church and proclaimed its independence. By that it became a schismatic Church, no longer one with or a part of the Church it had abandoned. If the Church of England is the Catholic Church, then the Roman Church is not. If the Roman Church is the Catholic Church, then the Church of England is not. But both cannot be it between them.

“The guilt of the schism,” declares Bishop Johnson, “lies with the Roman Church.” Which is r ather an unusual line for an Anglican Bishop to take. Most Anglican writers on the subject today begin by beating their own breasts, humbly acknowledging the guilt of the Church of England, and then asking the Catholic Church also to do penance in dust and ashes. The Lambeth Conference, in its Appeal to All Christian People in 1920, stated: “The causes of division lie deep in the past, and are by no means simple or wholly blameworthy. . . . We acknowledge this condition of broken fellowship to be contrary to God’s Will, and we desire frankly to confess our share in the guilt of thus crippling the Body of Christ and hindering the activity of His Spirit.” But Bishop Johnson cannot apparently bring himself to agree with that. “The guilt of the schism,” he says, “lies with the Roman Church”; to which all the Bishops, including the Archbishop of Canterbury, who endorsed his booklet, say, “Hear, Hear!” Did the Lambeth Conference of 1920 really mean what it said, or not?

“Professor Salmon, in his famous book, “The Infallibility of the Church,” reminds us in the Preface,” we are told, “that Bishop Firmilian, a great Bishop of the Eastern Church, had cause long ages ago to say to the Bishop of Rome: “How great is the sin of which you have incurred the guilt in cutting yourself off from so many Christian flocks. . . . While you think that you can cut off all from your communion, it is yourself whom you cut off from communion with all”.” Now that does not help Bishop Johnson’s case a bit. For according to him, when Pope Pius V excommunicated Elizabeth, both remained within the Communion of the Catholic Church. Neither party, according to him, was “cut off.”

But letting that go, in the point at issue between Bishop Firmilian and Pope Stephen (254–257), namely, whether baptism administered by heretics was valid or not, the Pope was right in saying yes, Firmilian was wrong in saying no. Nothing in the latter’s letter can be construed as a denial of the Pope’s supremacy. It was a hasty, impulsive and ill- considered complaint about the way in which Pope Stephen was exercising that supremacy. And eventually the decision of Pope Stephen was accepted throughout the whole Church, even in those localities which had formerly been opposed to the practice he insisted upon.

Professor Salm on’s authority on this matter is not of much weight today. He wrote his book about 1870, and there has been much progress in historical study since then. Dr. T. G. Jalland, in his book, “The Church and the Papacy,” (1944) is not nearly so impressed by theincident as was Bishop Johnson’s authority. He says that “it must surely be admitted that for arrogance and selfrighteousness Firmilian was “facile princeps” (i.e. unsurpassed). And he declares that Firmilian’s letter, “in spite of its outspoken criticism . . . at times bordering on invective . . . bears a certain unwilling testimony to the prestige of the Papacy in his time.”

Apparently Bishop Johnson feels the need of giving us something more up to date, so he next says: “On the breach between the Anglican Communion and the Roman Communion the following statement was issued in 1948, in the diocese of Christchurch, New Zealand.” But as no particular importance attaches to a statement issued by Anglicans in New Zealand, we can let that aspect go, and discuss the statement on its own merits.

“The Church of Rome,” it begins, “broke with us at the Reformation.” Bishop Johnson himself has already said that. It is a wonder that grown men, who must surely be credited with at least an elementary knowledge of history, can think, let alone say such a thing. Take the sequence of events once more. Henry VIII broke with Rome in 1534 when he declared Papal jurisdiction over the Church in England abolished and substituted his own. Twenty years later, in 1554, Mary Tudor (Henry’s Catholic daughter) restored the Church in England to union with Rome, repealing Henry’s law and officially acknowledging Papal supremacy. Five years later, in 1559, Elizabeth (Henry’s other daughter) broke with Rome by renewing Henry’s law declaring Papal jurisdiction abolished and herself supreme over both Church and State. If that meant not Henry and Elizabeth breaking with Rome but Rome breaking with Henry and Elizabeth, then carts pull horses and horses don’t pull carts, as those of us who claim to be rational have always thought!

“Had Queen Elizabeth agreed to Roman Supremacy,” the statement goes on, “the Pope of the day would have sanctioned prayers in the vernacular.” That is only a conjecture; but supposing it to be true, much more would have been demanded than acceptance of Papal Supremacy. Even if the Mass were permitted in English, it would have to be the Mass. That would have meant the rejection of the Book of Common Prayer of 1559 which Elizabeth had imposed. Likewise the Catholic Bishops she had imprisoned or exiled would have to be restored to their Sees, and her own invalidly consecrated Protestant hierarchy removed. The use of English instead of Latin was not the only, nor was it even a vital difference between the Elizabethan Church of England and the ancient pre-reformation Catholic Church.

“The same Pope,” says the Christchurch statement, “declared it illegal for Roman Catholics to go on attending services in the Church of England in the time of Elizabeth . . . They were commanded to withdraw from the services they were accustomed to attend.”

To that, again, the reply must be a simple exposition of the facts. For five years, during the reign of Mary, the people had been accustomed to attending the Catholic Mass, which she had restored in place of Edward VI”s “Communion Service.” When Elizabeth broke away from Rome in her turn, abolished the Catholic Mass and re-imposed Cranmer’s Edwardian Protestant Prayer Book the Second, she at first tried to force the people to attend the new services by taxing and taxing and taxing them for non-attendance until their means of livelihood were gone. Many, welcoming Protestantism, went willingly of course. Of the majority of the people, many would go under duress to the Protestant services, and then hear Mass privately elsewhere. But many others positively refused to go at all, earning for themselves the name of “Popish Recusants.” These assisted at Mass secretly, and clung to the Catholic Faith of their forefathers. But for these, eventually, the result was not only the confiscation of their property, but straight-out persecution, physical suffering, exile, or even death.

“Some obeyed this order (of the Pope) and some did not,” continues the Christchurch statement. “Those who obeyed withdrew from the Church of their Fathers, and formed a schismatic Roman sect in England. This was the origin of the Roman Catholic body in England.” And Bishop Johnson thinks it worth reprinting that! Remember that those who obeyed the Papal Decree were those who refused to forsake the Church of their Fathers—the Church of all Englishmen until Henry VIII first asserted his independence of it.

The absurdity of the business should be evident from one single consideration. Are we to say that a French Catholic in communion with the Pope becomes a schismatic the moment he crosses the British Channel and sets foot in England, and ceases to be one the moment he sets foot once more on French soil? There has been no change whatever in his thoughts, convictions or will. He has merely crossed the Channel. And having done so, though not a schismatic in France, he becomes one in England. No personal change, but merely a geographical change is supposed to effect this!

Naturally this French Catholic would have nothing to do with the Church of England. He would attend Catholic churches subject to the Cardinal Archbishop of Westminster, or others amongst the Catholic Bishops in union with Rome. For him, as for any other Catholic from the Continent, the Church of England as by law established would be a Protestant Church, as schismatical as any other of the numerous Protestant denominations in England. And he would be right.

“The roots of the Church of England,” we are told, “go back to Apostolic times. So do the roots of the Church of Rome.” But the latter admission cannot alter the fact that the roots of the Church of England go back only as far as Henry VIII, Edward VI and Elizabeth, in the 16th century. Any other verdict is simply to fly in the face of history. The same is true of the declaration: “We reformed and purified ourselves at the Reformation.” I have lately been reading, a book entitled, “The Counter-Reformation in the Church of England,” in which the author, the Rev. Spencer Jones, Anglican rector of Batsford, England, at the time, declares that the Church of England, ever since 1833, has been trying to get back what it wrongly threw away at the time of the Protestant Reformation, and has been seeking to purify itself of the many errors then foisted upon it!

“Rome,” asserts the Christchurch statement, “would not agree and was left behind. We do not disown her as a Church. She disowns us. Scripture supports our claims.” A Church which is conscious of being the one true Church must disown other and contrary Churches. A Church not conscious of being the one true Church has no need to disown anybody. For the rest, not a book, chapter, verse, word, comma or full-stop in Scripture supports the claims for the Church of England in this Christchurch statement in 1948 on behalf of New Zealand Anglicans. And that Bishop Johnson should have thought it worth quoting with the endorsement of all other Anglican Archbishops and Bishops in Australia and even of the Archbishop of Canterbury himself, shows how unsound is the Anglican position everywhere.

But the amazing thing is that an official Report, “The Fulness of Christ,” was presented to the Archbishop of Canterbury, in 1950. It was drawn up by a Committee of 17 Anglican theologians, especially appointed for the purpose. In it we read, on p. 51 (as published by the S.P.C.K.):

“The Church of England as it emerged from the Reformation found itself in all fundamentals on the “protestant” side of the “catholic-protestant” chasm. It asserted the doctrine of justification by faith only. It appealed to Scripture as its supreme doctrinal standard. It defined the visible Church in terms of the means of grace, the preaching of the word, and the administration of the sacraments. Its ordinal gave central place to the ministry of the word, replacing the paten and chalice by the Bible in the “porrectio instrumentorum”. It adopted a Communion Office which . . . was certainly designed to convey a “Protestant” doctrine of the Eucharist. Further, the Church of England after the Reformation maintained intimate relationships, including a large degree of intercommunion, with the “Protestant” Churches of Scotland and the continent, and it never tired of denouncing the iniquities of Rome.”

The most charitable conclusion is that by 1952 the Archbishop of Canterbury had forgotten all about this 1950 Report! So much for the Christchurch statement. Now Bishop Johnson of Ballarat continues with his own indictment of the Catholic Church. “The cause of the schism,” he declares, “was the temper of the Roman Catholic Church, the temper of intolerance and selfaggrandizement, the temper which will not tolerate anything that interferes with its designs.” That may be how he sees things. Historians see things differently. They tell us that the Pope would not tolerate Henry VIII”s proposed divorce from Queen Catherine and his marrying Anne Boleyn. They tell us that Henry was the type of man who would not tolerate anything that interfered with his designs. They tell us that he therefore abolished by law any further Papal jurisdiction in England and constituted himself head of a Church detached from the unity of the Catholic Church hitherto acknowledged throughout Western Christendom. When Bishop Johnson declares what he describes as “the temper of the Roman Church” to have been “the very temper that our Lord condemns in St. Matthew 18,” we can but assure him that, in dealing with Henry VIII”s case, the Pope was not so absorbed by St. Mark, 10: 11, “Whosoever shall put away his wife and marry another, commits adultery,” as to overlook anything in St. Matthew chapter 18.

Now Bishop Johnson introduces a matter—a little late—without which he must have felt that his booklet would be incomplete. It really belongs to the earlier part of his treatise, but he apparently forgot it when writing that section. However, better late than never.

“In the 9thcentury,” he says, “the attempt was made to bolster up the claims of the Papacy by the Isidorian decretals.” It is wellnigh incredible that Bishop Johnson, who claims to have read the Anglican Dr. T. G. Jalland’s book, “The Church and the Papacy,” could have written such a sentence in 1952! For speaking of the said decretals, Dr. Jalland expressly declares: “This has been the cause of a considerable amount of anti-papal prejudice; so much so that many people have supposed that it constitutes the chief support of what have been described as the papal claims. Hence in the interests of historical accuracy it is well that we should understand its real character. This may well lead to a very differ ent estimate of its part in the development of papal authority.” And he adds, “Those who have supposed that its primary purpose was to extend by fraudulent means the authority of the Roman See have seriously misunderstood its “raison d‘être”.” He points out that the interpolations in the Isidorian decretals were Gallican in origin, and not Roman; and that they were in order to uphold the privileges of the French Bishops, not of the Pope. (pp. 377–378). Yet despite these findings of modern scholarship, Bishop Johnson, who knows of them, repeats the discredited version of the decretals which Dr. Jalland declares to have been the cause of so much anti-papal prejudice. His reason for doing so should be clear; but his honesty in doing so is certainly open to question.

“Subsequently,” he emphasizes, “the Roman Church had to admit that these decretals were forgeries.” That sweeping assertion also Bishop Johnson must know to be false. For Dr. Jalland has made it quite clear that all the documents in the Spanish collection of Canon Law, known as the original Isidorian collection, “are indubitably authentic.” In France, other and spurious documents were included with them, in order to bolster up episcopal authority in France far more than to bolster up papal authority. Dr. Jalland declares that use of the spurious sections of the decretals was made by “numerous nonRoman authors in the ninth and tenth centuries,” whilst “the papal chancery observed a remarkable hesitation in (their) regard.” And he concludes: “The real creator of the Papacy, as it was to be known for the next six centuries, was not, as has sometimes been thought, the elusive “Pseudo-Isidore”, but the genuine historical Nicholas I” (Pope from 858- 867.)

As for Bishop Johnson’s ungracious remark that the “Roman Church had to admit that these decretals were forgeries,” inaccurately as he speaks of “these decretals,” there is no question of Catholic scholars being forced reluctantly to admit the unreliability of the interpolated sections. For long before Dr. Jalland published his book Catholic scholars had said just what he says now, in the interests—to use his own phrase of “historical accuracy.” It is Dr. Jalland who has had to admit, not reluctantly, but frankly and willingly, that arguments such as Bishop Johnson’s against the Papacy which are based on the socalled “False Decretals” are worthless.

“There is need for the Roman Church to humble herself again today,” says the Anglican Bishop of Ballarat, “to abandon the arrogant assertion that she alone is right and everybody else wrong, and to surrender claims which, as we have seen, have no warrant in Holy Scripture or in the early Church.” Needless to say, nowhere in Bishop Johnson’s booklet have we seen that Papal claims or any other essential teachings of the Catholic Church “have no warrant in Holy Scripture or in the early Church.” All we have seen are Bishop Johnson’s continual and unsupported statements to that effect. Nobody will be impressed by those except people who already think as he does. Meantime, he will be in a better position to discuss the virtues the Roman Church ought to cultivate when he himself has learned from his fellowAnglican, Dr. Trevor G. Jalland, the honesty and accuracy required in the interests of historical truth.

COMMUNION WITH THE POPE ESSENTIAL?

Bishop Johnson now turns to a series of emphatic repetitions of much that he has already said, probably on the principle that if you say a thing often enough someone will begin to believe it.

He begins by saying, “The Roman claim that the Roman Catholic Church is the one true Church cannot be substantiated.” He must think that, of course, or he would have no excuse for not belonging to it. “She builds all,” he writes, “on the premise that Peter was the Rock, the Supreme Head of the Church, and that he passed on his position and supreme power to the Pope. But this premise is false.” He has said that before, and there is no need to deal with it again. “So, too,” he continues, “the doctrine is false that the prime and essential condition of salvation is to be in communion with the Pope of Rome.”

Here we must pause for a moment, because the Catholic Church does not teach as Bishop Johnson declares. She teaches that the prime and essential condition of salvation is that one must be in a state of grace, i.e., in the love and friendship of God as one’s soul goes from this world. If, of course, a man realizes that it is God’s serious will that he should be in communion with the Pope, then for him membership of the visible Catholic Church is a condition required for his being in the necessary state of grace. For the refusal of a known and serious obligation in the sight of God puts one by the very fact into a state of sin and danger of eternal loss.

“The New Testament knows nothing of this doctrine,” he reassures his readers. They seem to need a lot of reassurance that they need not become Catholics! However, when Our Lord said to St. Peter, “I will give to you the keys of the kingdom of heaven” (Mt 16:19)—words not said to any of the other Apostles—He certainly implied that right relationships with St. Peter were necessary; and as His Church is to last all days even till the end of the world, that means with the successors of St. Peter, whom none have ever claimed to be except the Bishops of Rome.

“The New Testament lays it down,” he declares, “that the requisite for salvation is belief in Christ and union with Him through baptism.” (Acts, 8: 30–38; St. John, 3: 5, 16 and 36; First letter of St. John, 5: 12, etc.). Now it is true that the New Testament speaks of those two conditions as necessary for salvation, but it does not say that they are the only necessary conditions. The New Testament also demands obedience to the Church. “If a man will not hear the Church, let him be as the heathen,” Our Lord Himself said (Mt 18:17). The New Testament demands a right belief in all that Christ taught, speaking of those who, unlearned and unstable, wrest Scripture to their own destruction (see 2 Peter 3:16). It speaks of the necessity of good works, telling us that “by works a man is saved, and not by faith only.” (James 2:24) But there is no need to go on with this. If some fundamentalist Protestant came to Bishop Johnson, saying that he believed in the Lord Jesus Christ and had been baptized by some wandering evangelist, would the Bishop tell him that that was all that was necessary? If so, why did he say earlier that his Church takes its stand on the “Lambeth Quadrilateral,” acceptance of the Creeds, Episcopacy, Sacraments, together with the Bible and the tradition of the first five centuries? Or did he not believe those four planks to be really necessary at all?

Omitting a series of emphatic repetitions of things Bishop Johnson has said equally emphatically before, we come to the statement that “there is no evidence that he (Peter) founded the Church in Rome.” The Anglican Bishop of Ballarat may not be aware of any; but that can only mean that he has not studied the subject. A worthwhile Anglican scholar, the Rev. Dr. B. J. Kidd, one of the Anglican representatives at the Malines Conference with Cardinal Mercier, says in his book, “A History of the Church to A.D. 461,” that “the evidence is early and threefold in favour of St. Peter” as founder of the Church in Rome. 1 Peter 4:13 is written from “Babylon” which is code for “Rome”.

Dr. Kidd points out that, in Rom. 15: 20, St. Paul declares his aim to preach the Gospel where it had not yet been preached, and not to “build upon another man’s foundation.”

In his epistle to the Romans St. Paul said that he intended visiting Rome which he had not yet seen, not to found a new mission there, but only as passing through to Spain.

“Rome, in short,” writes Dr. Kidd, “was another man’s foundation. . . . Who, then was “the other man”?” Dr. Kidd unhesitatingly replies: “St. Peter.”

“If he did,” rhetorically asks Bishop Johnson, “why did not St. Paul include his name in the long list of salutations in the epistle to the Romans?” Dr. B. J. Kidd contents himself with saying: “No allusion by name to “the other man” is wanted. The Romans knew well enough whom he meant.” Renan, the French rationalist, said that prudential reasons would have suggested not mentioning St. Peter by name in a letter which could easily fall into the hands of the pagan authorities at Rome and betray the fact that St. Peter was even then founding the Church in the very heart of the Roman Empire. But there is another and much simpler explanation possible. It is that St. Paul, when he wrote his epistle to the Romans in 56 A.D., knew that St. Peter was not there at the time. St. Paul himself had founded numerous Churches, not remaining permanently in any of them, though revisiting some of them at different times. So, too, St. Peter, in his capacity as an Apostle, would not be obliged to remain continually in Rome merely because he had founded the Church there. He could have been absent on other apostolic work for long intervals. We do know that at least he returned to Rome and ended his days there, enduring martyrdom during the reign of Nero. One thing is certain. St. Paul’s failure to mention St. Peter by name in the epistle to the Romans is not evidence of anything more than that St. Paul failed to mention him. It is certainly not evidence of any kind that St. Peter was not the founder of the Church at Rome.

“Was St. Peter ever Bishop of Rome?” asks Bishop Johnson. He may rest assured that he was, all due allowance being made for St. Peter’s more-than-episcopal office as an Apostle, and for the greater precision as to the nature of episcopacy as the living and growing Church developed. Dr. Jalland writes: “It may be allowed that the “episcopi” (Bishops) of the primitive Roman Christian community succeeded to St. Peter’s position in Rome, as the “episcopi” (Bishops) of the Corinthian community succeeded St. Paul in Corinth; and thus at least it may reasonably be conceded that the succession took place “by divine providence.” If it be said that no evidence of this can be found in Holy Scripture, we can well reply that such evidence as we possess is at any rate secondary only to Scripture itself, and ought to be regarded as a not less trustworthy witness to beliefs current in the first and second generations of Christians.” “The Church and the Papacy,” p.528.

“Why,” exclaims Bishop Johnson, “even the Roman Catholic writer, Von Dollinger, shrinks from calling him Bishop of Rome. (See the chapter on “Peter’s Alleged Roman Episcopate” in Dr. Salmon’s “The Infallibility of the Church”).”

How things grow! Dr. Salmon says that Von Dollinger “appears to shrink” from calling St. Peter Bishop of Rome. That’s how it appeared to Dr. Salmon. Bishop Johnson turns it into what Dr. Dollinger actually did. In reality, Dr. Dollinger was not concerned with denying that St. Peter was Bishop of Rome. He was concerned to bring out the fact and rightly—that in St. Peter both the apostolic and episcopal offices were combined, and that only those who succeeded to the Roman See and who were not Apostles could be called Bishops as we understand the word today. Where his successors were Bishops of Rome, St Peter was Bishop of Rome—and more; for he was an Apostle, as his successors were not.

“The Roman Church,” now complains Bishop Johnson, “is not serving the cause of truth by putting forth her claims in the way in which she does.” Naturally one who does not believe in the Catholic Church regards any efforts to bring the Catholic Faith into the lives of other people as not serving the cause of truth. But at least he should say that, if Catholics believe their religion to be true and that they are obliged to obey Our Lord’s command, “Teach all nations, preaching the Gospel to every creature,” (Mt 28:19; Mark 16:15) then they are not to be blamed for adopting all lawful and reasonable means to proclaim what they believe they are obliged to proclaim, thus serving the cause of truth as they realize it to be! But Bishop Johnson does not think in such a way.

“The desire for totalitarian supremacy has captured her,” he declares. It is unpardonable that he should here use the word “totalitarian,” with its political implications, as a means of enkindling religious prejudice against the Catholic Church. Every Church proclaiming the rights of God over humanity must proclaim His “totalitarian supremacy.” St. Paul declared it the duty of the Church to bring “into captivity every understanding unto the obedience of Christ.” 2 Cor. 10: 5. Bishop Johnson’s Anglican Church may not be conscious of any authority to speak in the name of God. Anglicans may not be conscious of any obligation to obey their Church. But Catholics know that Christ speaks to them through the Catholic Church He established, and acknowledge His totalitarian claims upon them; and not upon the Catholic laity only, but upon Brothers and Nuns and Priests, and Bishops and Archbishops and Cardinals, and upon the Pope himself. We are all subject to the Law of Christ, whose authority over us is totalitarian as no earthly ruler’s authority over us could ever have the right to be.

“But in a world,” predicts Bishop Johnson, “that must fight to deliver itself from totalitarianism, the insistence of the Papacy on the acknowledgement of its supremacy and infallibility will less and less command the confidence of the rest of Christendom.”

To that I would say, firstly, that the totalitarianism from which he says the world must fight to deliver itself belongs to the political order, which has nothing to do with the matter we are discussing. Secondly, in the religious field, whilst no Church has spoken as definitely and clearly against the outrageous claims of would-be omnipotent and totalitarian States as the Catholic Church, the insistence of the Papacy on the acknowledgement of its supremacy and infallibility is but an insistence on the rights of Christ to our obedience in the Church as He constituted it, and to our confidence in the protection He promised His Church in order to safeguard it from the teaching of error. In reality, the argument Bishop Johnson uses against the Catholic Church is one of the most telling in its favour.

As for his prediction that it will “less and less command the confidence of the rest of Christendom,” the rest of Christendom, being non-Catholic, obviously has no confidence in the Catholic Church—or those comprising the rest of Christendom would not be nonCatholics. But in that same “rest of Christendom” more and more are showing less and less confidence in their own non-Catholic Churches. And if, unfortunately, the majority are drifting to almost complete religious indifference, a far greater number than is commonly realized are seeking certainty and peace of soul in the Catholic Church.

THE ANGLICAN POSITION

Concluding his booklet, Bishop Johnson of Ballarat puts before his readers what he evidently believes to be a supremely attractive vision of Anglicanism.

“Over against Papalism and Romanism,” he writes, “the English Church stands for Catholicism.” One must pause to comment upon the strange description of it as the English Church. We Catholics may acknowledge the Pope to be the visible head of our Church as successor of St. Peter in the Bishopric of Rome. But we do not attach to our Church—since it is truly Catholic—any national limits. With St. Paul we can say there is neither Jew nor Greek nor Gentile; adding, to suit our modern times, nor English, nor Irish, nor Canadians, nor Americans, nor Australians, nor French, Filipino, Lebanese, Italian, Vietnamese, Spanish, Korean, German, Polish, African nor Chinese nor Indian or Norwegian. We are all simply Catholics religiously. Bishop Johnson’s special English form of religion, not being Catholic, cannot by that very fact stand for Catholicism.

“Her attitude to other Christians,” he continues, “and her vision of the reunion of Christendom, can be seen in the “Appeal to All Christian People” issued by the Bishops of the Anglican Communion at the 1920 Lambeth Conference. I close with this brief extract from it.” Far from showing that the Church of England stands for Catholicism, I have seldom read a document giving clearer evidence of just how un-Catholic that Church really is.

“We believe,” the Statement declares, “that the Holy Spirit has called us in a very solemn manner to associate ourselves in penitence and prayer with all those who deplore the divisions of Christian people, and are inspired by the vision and hope of a visible unity of the whole Church.”

Here at once difficulties present themselves. Those who speak of hoping for a visible unity of the whole Church confess firstly that such visible unity ought to be, and secondly that they have not got it. Catholics agree that such visible unity ought to be, so much so that the Church Christ established can never be without it. Those who have to confess that they do not belong to the visibly united Church admit by the very fact that they are schismatic and heretical Churches, separated from the one united and visible Catholic Church in this world. It is good that the Lambeth Bishops recognized their Anglican Church as one of the many subdivisions of Protestantism, that it is wrong to be in such a position, and that they ought to get back into the visible unity of the Catholic Church. But they make it quite clear that they have no idea of what the Catholic Church really means, still less of how to go about things in order to realize their dream!

“The vision that rises before us,” the Bishops continue, “is the vision of a Church, genuinely Catholic, loyal to all truth, and gathering into its fellowship all who profess and call themselves Christians, within whose visible unity all treasures of faith and order, bequeathed as a heritage by the past to the present, shall be possessed in common, and made serviceable to the whole Body of Christ.”

All who profess to be Christians, and who do not yet belong to her, will obtain all the advantages mentioned when they return to the Catholic Church their forefathers should never have left. But so long as the Lambeth Bishops themselves refuse to look in the direction of Rome they’ll have to be content with their unfulfilled dreams. And they will continue to refuse to look in the direction of Rome so long as the penitence of which they speak leaves untouched the national pride which impelled one Anglican Bishop to say: “You can rest assured that we shall never go through any doorway above which is written the word submission.”

“Within this unity,” the Anglican Bishops continue, “Christian Communions now separated from one another would retain much that has long been distinctive in their methods of worship and service.” Such typically compromising generalities lead nowhere. The Lambeth Bishops carefully refrained from saying how much the other Protestant Churches would have to give up which they wanted to retain, and how much Anglicans themselves were prepared to give up which the other Protestant Churches wanted to reject. It is of little use to point to the “Lambeth Quadrilateral” with its talk of Creeds, Bishops, Sacraments, Bible and Tradition, for Anglicans themselves are not agreed as to the sense in which any one of those requirements is to be understood!

“It is through a rich diversity of life and devotion,” we are told, “that the unity of the whole fellowship will be fulfilled.” But that will not do. Unity may permit a rich diversity of life and devotion, as it does in the Catholic Church. But unity is not fulfilled by that. It is fulfilled only by acceptance on the part of all of the same essential doctrines, discipline or authority, and forms of worship. To say: “Let’s shake hands all round, calling ourselves one visible Church, whilst we remain as we are, each with our own distinctive doctrines, discipline and worship” will not mean unity in one Church but merely an aggregate of different Churches united, as I remarked earlier, like a kind of “League of Nations,” all members of which still remain different nations! Such was never the intention of Christ.

“This means an adventure of goodwill and still more of faith,” plead these Anglican Bishops, “for nothing less is required than a new discovery of the creative resources of God.” So we are invited to set out on a voyage of discovery, as Columbus set out to discover a problematical country beyond the seas! All is bewilderment and uncertainty. We are told, Columbus set out to discover a problematical country beyond the seas! All is bewilderment and uncertainty. We are told, 29, that when Our Lord had finished speaking one day to the people they “were astonished at His doctrine, for He taught them as one having authority, and not as the scribes.” A supernatural and divine certainty rang through His words which found an echo in their own inner consciousness. He knew that He was speaking the truth, and they knew it also. And among all the Churches in the world today the Catholic Church alone speaks in such a way. It is because Our Lord is continuing to speak through her. But those in whose souls her words find no echo condemn her for her “dogmatism,” or her “intolerance,” or her “imperialistic ambition,” or her “totalitarian demands.” They are not impressed by her teaching as one having authority, and not as they themselves. But there are those who notice that the Catholic Church talks an entirely different language from these Anglican Bishops, that as Christ spoke as no man ever spoke before and with all the authority of God, so does the Catholic Church speak still in His name, and they realize that it is in the Catholic Church that Christ wills that they should find Him.

“To this adventure,” the Lambeth Bishops proclaim, “we are convinced that God is calling all members of His Church.” That may be their conviction. But no members of the Catholic Church feel called to such an adventure. Nor, considering the nature of the adventure, are Anglicans or any other non-Catholics called to it by God, however firmly they may have persuaded themselves that their thoughts on the subject are from Him. Certainly the Anglican Bishops will find no warrant for their ideas in the authorities they say they accept, Holy Scripture, the Creeds, and the Traditions of the first five centuries.

So Bishop Johnson closes his booklet. And what has he given us? Only more reason than ever to reject the Anglican position he wishes to uphold. And certainly nothing he has written in it, from cover to cover, could lessen any well-read and intelligent person’s confidence in the Catholic Church as every normal person understands that expression; namely, that Church throughout the world which is in union with the Bishop of Rome as successor of St. Peter, according to the will of Christ Himself.

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Revolt Against Heaven

BY DANIEL A. LORD, S.J

INDEX

SHARP commotion ran through the streets of heaven. The calmness of eternal day was broken by alarms and shouts, the gathering of angels in excited, hurried knots, the rushing to and fro of mighty-winged seraphs.

Two names were spoken in hushed and terrified voices, the name of the Most High and the name of His fairest and strongest angel, Lucifer. Glorious beyond all the other angels of heaven, endowed with brilliant intellect and compelling will, Lucifer had deserved his name and wore it proudly, Bearer-of-the-Light.

But where heaven yesterday had known peace, today excitement drew angels together in troubled groups and filled the very air with dread and wonder. A new problem, filled with fearsome possibilities, agitated their intellects and disturbed their wills.

For from the White Throne had gone forth word of a new Leader. He was, rumour said, to be chosen from the ranks of a race as yet untreated. Mankind was to be the race’s name. The Most High had announced that the Second Person of the Divine Trinity would pass by the nine orders of heavenly knighthood and unite Himself with this inferior nature of an inferior race. Uniformed in this lower rank, He would still claim place as God of heaven and commander of the celestial armies.

WHAT OF LUCIFER?

Wonder that grew into consternation, questions that rose like the swift swelling of a hurricane, swept the far reaches of the Heavenly City. In every mind was one piercing doubt. What of Lucifer?

Would the mighty warrior of God take his commands from one who wore a uniform less splendid than his own? Would Lucifer drop his proud head in obedience to a being of inferior race? If sometimes with a glint of rising resentment he accepted the orders even of the Most High, what would he do when the orders fell from the lips of a man lower in human nature than the weakest and least noble angel among Lucifer’s subordinates?

Though there was doubt in the minds of all, the passing of the day brought to Lucifer’s friends a frightening certainty. God Himself might command Lucifer and be obeyed; but were the command sounded by a lesser voice than that of Omnipotence, Lucifer, his followers felt, would lift his head in proud refusal. He was not likely to recognise a substitute commander for the Almighty.

Suppose, ran the terrifying speculation, he refused to acknowledge this new commander in chief. Would God bow before his haughty resentment? Would God yield to His glorious favourite? And if God did not yield, that might mean war in heaven. Dared Lucifer make war upon the Almighty?

Was he-and here his followers felt a strange exultant thrill-strong enough to wrest to himself the sovereignty even of the Heavenly city?

“He would not dare rebel,” was the voiceless whisper that swept through heaven.

“He will keep his plume unbowed to any save the All-Highest, even if this means war,” his closest followers answered; and there was pride in their reply.

THE SUMMONS

Across the measureless distances of heaven the ringing blasts of trumpets were flung from battlement to battlement. Excited knots instantly slipped into disciplined companies. The disorderly rushing to and fro became the steady flow of marshalled spirits toward the Throne from which radiated the white, vibrant light that filled heaven. Silence quickly chained the doubts and questions that still thrashed about in angelic minds, for the wordless voice of Omnipotence sounded above the trumpets and the wind-like rush of forward-moving legions.

Before the Throne the long lines halted. Light leaped from spear to spear and flashed back in brilliant repercussion from starlike shields. Great, massed choirs, whose voices were like the swell of an organ built by no human hands, now stood silent and waiting.

God from His throne looked upon the angels of His creation, and loved them as an artist loves the supreme work of his hands, and then loved them with the deeper love of a father for the brilliant, glorious sons of his begetting.

A wide, hollow square of angels framed the reviewing ground before the Throne. Into this square, his glory like the glory of a thousand suns, his strength anal beauty involuntary tribute to God’s great craftsmanship, stepped Lucifer. His sword flashed in a salute that had in it as much pride as reverence-flashed and was quickly buried once more in its scabbard. His head, unbowed, was lifted toward the face of the All-Beautiful.

A NEW CAPTAIN

Then, above them all rolled the words of divine prophecy and command. In the fulness of time a man should be born, Jesus who is the Christ. He was to be the Second Divine Person, emptying Himself and taking the form of a slave to serve and redeem a fallen race. Clad in perishable flesh and human mortality, he was still to be King of Kings, Lord of Lords, Commander in Chief of the armies of earth and heaven. Now in vision they will see their new Leader. In vision they are free to accept or reject His divinely appointed leadership.

The glorious, haughty form of Lucifer stiffened. An almost imperceptible tremor ran through the serried ranks, quickening the light that broke in glinting sparks from spear tips and swaying the shields to the involuntary tautening of angelic arms.

Suddenly darkness, heaven’s first and only darkness, flung its quenching cone over all. Then, like a powerful spotlight, a circle of radiance splashed the steps of the now hidden throne, and in the exact centre of the circle stood the figure of a Man.

THE MAN

A long, seamless garment robed Him from throat to instep. Above the robe, His dignified head was crowned with the strangest crown-blood-red thorns matted into the gold of His hair. He carried, not in His hand, but against His shoulder, a terrifying standard: two heavy, crossed beams that He held with difficulty. And with the slow lifting of His head His eyes swept the angel ranks, not commandingly, but in tender, pitiful beseeching.

Again the voice of the, Almighty rolled and shook in power and majesty.

“Your Commander and your King!”

Tense, almost tangible, silence as the humble, beseeching eyes of the Man swept their lines hungrily. Then the vision was gone. Like the lash of a whip withdrawn, the circle of light was snapped away. Again the city was flooded with the light from the great White Throne. And in its searching brilliance the angels stood revealed.

Half of them knelt or stood with lifted spears offering royal salute. But myriads stood hesitant, shocked by the command to bend their proud strength to one of inferior nature. Still others had drawn back in instinctive repugnance and proud resentment. This weak, tortured man with thorns for a crown and crossed sticks for a standard, could he be the Commander in Chief of their strength and beauty and magnificence? It could not, must not be! What would Lucifer think or do or bid them do?

“NON SERVIAM.”

To him swung every eye. Would he kneel, raise his sword in salute to royalty, turn cold back on inferiority, or . . . Like lightning on a summer’s evening, Lucifer whirled. His sword leaped from its scabbard and the flame of its blade cut like a sulphurous flash through heaven.

Instantly the resentful and the wavering angels knew. That flashing sword was their rallying signal. His angry, black look swept the ranks, searching for and singling out his followers. Then back he whirled toward the Throne, knowing that with him was half of heaven’s army, and his voice, was dashed with all his power into the very face of God.

“I will not serve!” he shouted.

And from the hosts of his followers came the answering cry, “Nor will we serve!”

WAR BREAKS OUT

Instantly heaven seemed chaos. From their knees or from their exalted gestures of salute leaped the obedient angels. The banner of Michael, chosen, in one of God’s instants, captain of His faithful warriors, cracked in the wind of conflict. Pure white, it bore for the first time the purple symbol of the Cross.

Over the swiftly marshalled hosts of Lucifer leaped like a tongue of devouring flame the red banner of defiance. Trumpet answered trumpet in angry screams as the two armies rushed with the force of a tempest through a narrow canyon into fierce embrace. The shock of that meeting seemed to rock the foundations of heaven.

It was war the more terrible because the issue was not death-death could not touch immortal spirits-but ruin of power and beauty and spiritual dignity.

Lines swung back and charged again like breakers against a rocky cliff. Angels, a moment before brothers, rushed at each other with levelled spears. But in the hands of Lucifer and his army these spears melted as candles melt in the hottest flame; while the spears of Michael’s followers dug deep wounds that all eternity would never heal.

Back were flung the lines of the rebellious angels. A moment they hesitated on the brink of God’s city. One final charge of loyal lances against dishonoured shields, and Michael saw his opponents fall like lightning from the clouds, and the gates of hell, shell-hole of this battle of immortals, swung open and swung shut to cut off the last repetition of that cry, despairing now and crazed in agony, but shrill and bitter in its defiance. “I will not serve.” And the echoes of the universe flung it back and then far beyond the reaches of obedient space.

The armies of God and evil had met in their first deadly conflict. Creatures for the first time had dared defy their Creator. They had dreamed of driving Him out of His own creation?

FREE CHOICE

Sin with quick fingers fashioned the blood-red banner of rebellion. The first sad army of the proud and rebellious had looked upon the leadership of Christ and had cried defiantly, “Him we will not serve.” And the battle cry and the rebellion had initiated a war that never yet has ended.

From the very start God placed no compulsion upon His creatures. He wanted only free service. He preferred to be served by willing spirits. Beautifully, He despised the service of slaves.

So for the angels there was a perfectly free choice. They could accept Him or reject Him, lift their swords in allegiance to His divinely appointed Leader or turn their swords against His Sacred Heart. They could league themselves with their Creator or join forces with the rebellious Lucifer. They could stand under the standard marked with the purple cross or under the red flag of rebellion.

RETRIBUTION

They made the choice. Those who chose the leadership of Christ were assured of eternal happiness. Michael and Raphael and Gabriel, the angels who later were to be men’s guardians, the mighty spirits of the Apocalypse, were given an eternity of God’s friendship and glory and of faithful devotion to the interests of man. The very moment that saw the rebellious angels draw their swords against Christ, saw them transformed by the ugliness and destructive power of their own malice into the devils of hell.

From that day to this the rival banners have flown: the pure white banner bearing the purple cross, and the flaming red flag of revolt. Around each has gathered an eager army. One accepts gladly as captain and leader the crucified Christ. The other picks up and echoes in each new age the battle cry of the fallen angels, “We will not serve!” Christ or Lucifer, there are no other leaders, only subordinates. God’s cause or the cause of evil; the choice is inevitable.

THE CAPTAIN COMES

He came, that Commander of the angelic vision, and Lucifer watched Him with hatred and tricky plotting. Thrice they met face to face in the insult of Christ’s triple temptation. Conquered from that moment, Lucifer worked, as Lucifer has cleverly learned to work, through and behind his willing lieutenants.

Christ’s first call to His followers was the cry of the Babe of Bethlehem swept through the world on a wintry wind. Then from His hidden life He walked out into the rough highway, searching for followers. He entered fearlessly the bloody battlefield of Calvary, and for a moment Lucifer must have exulted in the thought that perhaps at last his red banner was floating in victory.

During those three years of searching and struggling, success and failure fought for apparent mastery. Men and women flocked to Christ’s side, loving His humility and humanity. But far more turned from Him, contemptuous of His work-hardened hands and the ragged followers He drew after Him. His stalwart courage and tender heart, the divine power that manifested itself in His miracles and the human and divine pity that dropped those miracles upon mankind’s bent shoulders won Him deep and passionate love. But it won Him enmities in high places, and suspicion where suspicion quickly bred hate and hate bred death.

For every twelve who hailed Him as King on Palm Sunday, a hundred gathered in dark corners of temple or pretorium to league themselves in ugly plots against His life. They hated the thought of a king born in a manger. They could yield no throne to Him except the cross on which they meant to exalt Him. They resented His talk of the pure of heart and His denunciation of divorce. They were furious that He wasted time on fishermen and peasants, while they waited vainly in palaces for a sight of His miracles or the recital of one of His parables. They wanted a king who would smash their enemies, not one who preached love even for those who had wronged them.

AGAIN THE ARMIES

His very first appearance on earth was the signal for the gathering of those two rival armies as the first vision of Him in heaven had split the heavenly hosts into relentless civil war. Lucifer was not ready now to let the Captain gain an easy victory. He had his army ready to fight every step of the way. And that army rose quickly at his command.

If Magi came from afar seeking Christ, the filthy Herod sent his soldiers seeking Him too. One group came bearing gifts to a Child; the others came with bared swords for the throats of infants. And Lucifer exulted when the first brush with the armies of evil sent Christ into apparent retreat to Egypt.

THE WORLD IS SPLIT

High was the purpose that flamed in the heart of Christ the Saviour. He had from the moment of the Incarnation one multiple purpose: to drive sin and its sad consequences from the world, to bring happiness to human hearts, to restore to our race the lost sonship of God and the heavenly inheritance which Adam lost when for a moment he rejoined the rebellious forces of Lucifer. His divine mission was to bring to the world the blessed peace of His Beatitudes.

Yet He foresaw mankind split into hot enmities because of Him. The army of Lucifer lay solidly entrenched throughout a world that had gone over in rank treason to idolatry and sin. Glorious armies of white-clad virgins would follow Him singing; but armies of martyrs would grow red under the swords of His enemies or in the midst of torturing flames.

He visioned the cross carried before peaceful armies led by Paul and Patrick and Augustine and Boniface as they marched to conquer new lands. But he saw hairy hands clasping the handles of Asiatic lances and Mohammedan swords to cut through Christian civilisations a path for oriental barbarism or the rising Crescent.

He watched golden pens racing across vellum to write His praise, but the harsh scratch of other pens reached His ears, pens dipped in acid and venom as they attacked His personality, His doctrines, His Church, His truth, and corroded with their poison the minds of His followers.

NO COERCION

He was, He well knew, the storm centre of the world, a sign to be contradicted, a person set for the rise and fall of many in Israel and in the whole world. Lucifer had refused Him homage; Lucifer would struggle with all his subtle, if sin-twisted, intellect to turn mankind from His service and His praise.

At any moment Christ could have wrested from the world a slave service. But this He would not do. He wanted free men and women to follow Him. He had not wanted the angels to be slaves; He would not allow mankind to be slaves, either. They must answer His quiet “Follow Me” as John did or Magdalen. He would bind no one to His service except with the chains of love and devoted loyalty.

Force would have been easy. His was the power that struck the raging waves into cowering tranquillity. He spoke quiet words to the thundering tempest, and it shrank back to its mountains, cowed and frightened. Once, in the garden, when His enemies leaped forward at the signal kiss to bind Him, He spoke gently and they fell back upon the ground helpless to touch Him. Even then, however, He released them and stood patiently for the beginning of the bloody work on which they were obstinately bent.

He could have forced men to follow Him, broken their wills to His commands, and dragged them after Him by the same divine force that commanded demons, sent swine thundering into the sea, shook free the grip of disease, changed the very nature of water by bidding it be wine, and forced a few loaves and fishes to feed a multitude.

Instead, almost humbly, He asked men to follow Him. “Come,” He said gently again and again as He walked along the road or skirted a lake. A handful of fishermen, out of all the fishing fleets of Galilee, heard the invitation and accepted. One taxgatherer from Rome’s multitudes forsook his money table for a place in the apostolate. And of those who did accept, one sold out to His enemies as a spy, preferring thirty pieces of silver to the riches of a spiritual kingdom.

Lucifer, self-confessed lord of the world, had won the vast majority to his side. With gold he held them, or with the laughter of dancing girls, or the promise of kingdoms bounded only by the limits of civilisation, or with cleverness calling itself wisdom and drugging the mind, or the sweet insistence of wine. Men gladly fought the wars of evil, lured on, as warriors all too often are lured, by Lucifer’s promise of the spoils that belong to the conquerors of earth.

THE CREST OF THE CONFLICT

Never did the eyes of Christ so clearly see the rival armies as He did from the lookout of the Cross. Embattled Rome was there, guarding with its world-conquering legionaries this spiritual world conqueror from possible rescue by His tattered followers. Embattled Israel stood at alert attention, the soldiers of the high priests with swords and clubs ready to smite down any disciple who dared to slink back in the futile hope of saving his Master.

In the blackness that covered Calvary, Lucifer brooded over his suspiciously easy victory and wondered why he had been allowed to win. He had gloated in quiet confidence as he saw his work taken completely from his hands by able lieutenants. His war against Christ was safely carried on without his personal care as long as he trusted one regiment to Herod, wedded to incestuous lust, and another to Pilate, cynical of anything except a place in the good graces of Caesar, and a third to the high priests, who had grown to prefer power to the truth, the wealth and revenue of the temples to religion, the certain luxuries and eminences of this life to the doubtful blessings of eternity. Never, and he knew it, had Lucifer seen his army more adequately commanded. Yet, even so, he was puzzled by the swiftness and apparent completeness of his victory.

The twin powers of the world, political Rome and religious Israel, had looked upon the leadership of Christ and rejected it. Like Lucifer, they would have none of a king born in a stable, nurtured in a cottage, trained in a carpenter shop, sun-browned by foot-journeys through the hill country, companioned by illiterate fishermen, acclaimed by women and children, leading the life of a poor, itinerant preacher, pitiful toward the poor whom they despised, and pitiless toward their transparent hypocrisy.

REJECTION

So, when Christ turned toward them and said, “Come, follow Me,” Lucifer knew that their answer would be the same as his own.

“We will not serve,” they shouted. But Lucifer must have seen the irony of their further cry, “We have no king but Caesar,” when he knew how vigorously and tirelessly they were fighting for him.

Never was a leader rejected with such relentless finality. They levelled against Him Roman short swords and heartpiercing lances. They beat Him down with Jewish clubs and scourges. No consecrating oil of royalty anointed His head or filled His palms. They had only one anointing for Him, the purple blood spilled from His own body. Before Him they bowed indeed, but in the taunting homage of mockery and the jeers of unbelief as they substituted for grateful praise their laughter and obscene ridicule.

A vast armed host, led by a Roman Governor, and blessed by outstretched priestly hands, sprang up to repel Him just as the legions of Lucifer had rallied against Him in that first heavenly vision. He asked for followers, and they willingly followed Him along the Via Crucis. He pleaded for companionship, and they crowded about Him only when He was safely fastened to a cross. His divine eloquence was directed against the horrible effects of sin, and sin achieved its masterpiece, the murder of a God-man.

HIS DEFEATED ARMY

Lucifer stood by in panting approval as Christ’s mercy actually inflamed hatred and His gentleness aroused force. Dying, He saw for His bodyguard the coldly indifferent executioners and priests who, like fox hunters, had tracked their quarry to the death. Did He see the sinister smile of Lucifer, proudof this day’s work as his revenge for the defeat of heaven?

Yet, from the Cross Christ saw what Lucifer could not possibly see nor guess, the rising of another army that would pick up this blood-stained cross and carry it to triumphant victory. Strangely impotent in appearance, but wonderfully potent in the powers o£ their soul, the nucleus of that army was near Him as He died: Mary the Mother; John, His young captain; the Holy Woman, who loved Him unselfishly, and a centurion whose spear through His side opened the way to his own faith and the world’s way to the Sacred Heart.

Lucifer would have, had he so much as noticed them, despised that pitiful handful. Lucifer has a way of missing the strength of God’s saints.

But the rest of Christ’s army was in apparent rout. His bodyguard of apostles had been scattered in the first sharp brush of conflict. The disciples, his skeleton regiment, were flung back into complete disorder. Hopelessly outnumbered, they crouched in their hiding places as the conquering armies of Lucifer’s lieutenants swept to and fro unchallenged.

In heaven the conflict between His faithful angels and the insurgent forces of Lucifer had been sharp but quickly decisive. Michael’s army, in an irresistible charge, had swept Lucifer’s proud regiments over the brink to utter defeat. From Calvary He saw His army beaten not so much by their vigorous foes as by the terrors and cowardice of their own hearts.

Never had an army been so hopelessly outnumbered and outfought. Never had a victory so completely shattered the vanquished while it carried the defeated commander, not to a noble death under fire, but to a slave’s death by torture.

VICTORY BEYOND DEFEAT

Yet Christ, as He looked from the Cross upon the world’s most decisive battlefield, must have smiled through His pain and shame. He must have smiled at the puzzled gloating of Lucifer, the open exultation of the priests, and the cold assurance of the legionaries. For beyond the defeat He saw the slow reforming of His scattered bodyguard, the regathering of His skeleton regiment, augmented by the first converts of Pentecost, and the counter-attack that was to sweep across the world.

He foresaw that tiny army starting off with high hearts and His own noble purposes. He saw it attack Israel in its temple and Rome in its impregnable citadels. He saw that army turning aside sword stroke with uplifted crucifix, sapping in the dark tunnels of the catacombs under the very centre of Roman dominion, matching the naked bodies of martyrs against the tridents of steel-clad gladiators, pitting virgins in victorious conflict against the lions of the arena and the beasts in men’s hearts, beating the imperial legions with an army of slaves released from the slave marts by the freedom of Christ.

He saw, as Lucifer could not possibly see, how one morning Rome would wake to find its emperor kneeling before the Pope, His personal representative on earth, and asking for baptism. He saw the Roman eagles disappearing from the standards of the Empire to give place to the Labarum of the Cross. Israel He saw as it hurled its power against the Rock of Calvary and then against the Rock of Peter, breaking into a thousand scattered, exiled groups without temple or priesthood or fatherland.

Lucifer, puzzled as he was by his too easy conquest, could not see this, but he was soon to feel that counter-attack upon his allies.

THE VICTORIOUS MARCH

The fishermen Christ had chosen soon became the inspired preachers and writers of His Gospel. John of the rower’s bench became the lofty eagle of God, and Peter from the helm of a fishing craft became Peter guiding the destinies of His Church. The scattered handful of His fighting men and women, broken by the victorious plotters of Good Friday, reformed into the irresistible Church marching through history, attacked and persecuted, outnumbered and outshouted always, yet moving from victory to victory.

The peaceful regiments of His priests and religious, His devoted fathers and mothers, His high-minded young men and pure young women took up His victorious war. They made relentless battle upon sin; they hated from their hearts the forces of evil; they struggled with undimmed hopes for the conquest of the world. And when they conquered, they imposed upon the vanquished, not the chains of the oppressor, but the reign of Christ’s beatitudes and the kingdom of His peace.

All this is history. History, too, is the brilliant way in which after each defeat Lucifer musters new armies and initiates a new campaign. Seldom, though, does he announce his war in terms of loyalty to himself. Instead, he makes the war centre, as spiritual war will always centre, around the figure of Christ. He did not say, as he rallied to his side Nero and the persecuting emperors, Julian the Apostate and the cynical philosophers of his court, all the powers of pagan lust and pagan cynicism, “Here is my banner; follow it.” Instead, he cried, “There is His Cross; attack it.”

So, since Calvary, there has been a warfare against Christ to which there is neither truce nor armistice. Always Lucifer, seen or unseen, acknowledged or lurking behind some chosen subaltern, has been the leader of the attack on Christ, which is really an attack upon all that is best in humanity.

NEW ARMIES

Often the war was bloody. More often it was fought with subtler weapons than swords or lances. Arianism made war on the divinity of Christ and carried forward that war on the rugged war ponies of Teutonic barbarians. But a thousand other heresies, all directed against the person of Christ, used brilliant books and scholarly-sounding lectures, political intrigue and polished rhetoric.

Mohammed might rouse wild Arab tribesmen to a holy war against the Cross and Christ; his far more potent weapon was the lust of the harem and the promise of an earthly paradise followed by an eternity of unending sense of gratification.

There have been armies like that of Genghis Khan, marching forward under oath to stable their horses on the altar steps of St. Peter’s. Lucifer surely approved that oath. But there have been the far more deadly armies of a pagan renaissance, attacking the love of Christ by offering instead the love of decadent Greek and Roman gods and goddesses, proposing the rotten novels of Petronius Arbiter for the Gospel according to St. John, and the brilliant smut of the Decameron for the parables of Christ. The perverted brilliance of Lucifer surely approved all that with much more enthusiasm.

THE WAR GOES ON

Today, however much humanitarianism may soften the hearts of men and pacifism outlaw armies and navies and beat swords and guns into pen points, the war between good and evil, between Christ and Lucifer, between those who accept the Saviour’s leadership and those who reject it, goes on unendingly. Around the person of Christ still gather His faithful armies. Against Him are directed, not crude spears or ten-inch guns, but the crafty dislike and resentment and far subtler warfare of clever minds and rotten morals, by men who hate His law and refuse to permit His intrusion into their lives or loves.

They may scarcely know His name or recognise His face. They may violently deny or contemptuously laugh at the idea that there is or ever was a Lucifer. They are none the less making war upon Christ and carrying on the warfare begun in heaven. They are fighting the things which He came to bring to the world: purity and charity and faith and the love of realities beyond this world. They are fighting for the things by which Lucifer conquers men for himself: pride and sin and lust and power and dominance and gold and pleasure and the things of the immediate Now rather than the things of the ultimate Then.

WITH OR AGAINST

Christ stated the fact of this unending war in one clear phrase: “He that is not with Me is against Me.” There is no middle ground. We can no more be on the side of Christ today and at the same time on the side of His enemies than we could, in the year 33, have been a disciple of Christ and approved the treachery of the priests and the death sentence passed by Pilate.

Pacifists in this war between good and evil are monstrosities . Either we accept the standard of His Cross or we are really under the red banner of Lucifer. We promote His kingdom upon earth or we make war upon it. With Him or against Him. There is no third choice.

THE FIGHT IS FIERCEST

Never was the fight as fierce or as bitter as it is today. War against God has reached incredible heights of intensity and hatred. Organised atheism captures Russia, walks in doctor’s hood into college classrooms, and shoots the poisoned bullets of its propaganda from behind the shelter of newspapers, pamphlets, books and magazines.

Defiant of all laws of civilised warfare, it carries its war to women and children and organises them into battalions of death. Lucifer admitted God even when he fought Him. The foes of Christ had first to lay their hands upon Him before they could put Him to death. Atheism, by a supreme contradiction, makes war upon a God whose existence it denies. It says there is no God and then, with personal venom and fury, attacks Him.

Surely Lucifer must gloat over this magnificent re-inforcement of his army. War was never fought more unscrupulously.

THE WAR OF CONTEMPT

Where God is not flatly denied, war is made upon Him by a much more subtle method. His presence in the world is ignored. His rights over His own creation are emphatically questioned. That He has anything to say about His own creatures is regarded as a relic of obsolete superstitions. Whether he made the world or not is of little importance; it is important that He have no right to rule it. He may have redeemed the world, but the world has no desire for that redemption.

CASHIERING CHRIST

Lucifer, who once cast his glance covetously on the control of heaven, must have a sneaking admiration for those who have tried to grasp the control of earth by the simple expedient of asking God to mind His own affairs and let mankind alone.

One reads much of modern literature wondering if the authors ever heard of God or Christ. Clearly they know there is a fight between the issues of Christ and the issues of evil, but just as clearly theyare not interested in Christ’s side. He is thrust aside as carelessly is if He were a myth like William Tell or an outmoded philosopher like Philo the Greek. Man is encouraged to trace his relationship with the orangutan; his relationship with His Elder Brother, Jesus Christ, is regarded almost as a blot on the escutcheon.

Lucifer tried by the magnificently conceived and executed conspiracy of Calvary to drive Christ from the world. He failed. Modern society has taken up his task most willingly.

FRANKLY IGNORED

Christ spoke very clear words on a great many subjects. He expected, apparently, those words to be heard, accepted, and obeyed by His followers. Otherwise they could hardly call themselves His followers. Are they heard?

With almost brutal frankness He called marriage following divorce adultery. Almost every so-called Christian country has written divorce into its laws. Most of them have speeded up their divorce courts to the point of vying in efficiency with a modern automobile factory.

MILLSTONES

Christ talked beautifully of personal purity and laid down strict laws for its preservation. A thousand writers of the day regard His views as childish and amusingly out of date. The hero of your modern novel changes his mistress when he changes his tie. The heroine of your best seller kicks purity under her party slippers or mules and tears it into ribbons as something less important than the favour of a New Year’s party.

Christ recommended millstones for the necks of those who scandalised little children. Today little children, when they are graciously’ permitted entrance into this modern world, are in a million cases deprived of any knowledge of God their Father or of their eternal destiny, and are subjected to the most insidious and disheartening attacks upon their innocence. It is not hard to imagine the approval which Lucifer gives to all this.

Christ demanded faith. Faith is widely regarded as the refuge of cowardly minds and a survival of stale superstition. He praised the poor in spirit; our monuments rise and our incense is burned to honour those who have built fortunes by the doubtful methods and brash buccaneering of modern business. Lucifer would hardly disapprove of that.

Christ is not admitted to the public schools or State universities of Christian lands. His image may not appear on the walls of our State institutions. He is permitted no place at the council tables of the nations, and His presence in diplomatic circles would be often, to put it mildly, embarrassing for all concerned.

OR DISLIKED

Lust, that tore Christ’s back with scourges, is no longer regarded as very terrible. In fact, it is treated as distinctly amusing and undoubtedly delightful. (Let lust make war upon Him if it will. Perhaps Herod was right when he treated the pure Christ as a fool.) Pride, that crowned His head with thorns, is a modern sign of bravery and courage. (The soldiers may not have been far wrong when they laughed at the meek Christ and struck His bowed and thorn-crowned head with reeds.)

Doubt, that led the callous Pilate to let an innocent man go out to die, is now regarded as a sign of broadmindedness and an enlightened attitude toward life. (Perhaps Pilate knew what he was doing when he sent this man who taught an embarrassing and annoying sort of truth to crucifixion.)

Honesty is good enough for underlings. One does not rob a news-stand, but one may without qualms of conscience pillage the stock market. (Clearly the real crime of Judas was not that he sold Christ, but that he failed to demand a decent price for his sale.)

State worship, which once placed a statue of the emperor in Roman temples, has become the religion of millions, and the State rises supreme over all things, Church, conscience, the right of mothers and fathers to their own children, property, the natural right of a sick man or an imbecile to life. (Can it be that we have no king but Caesar?)

If the French Revolutionists took a courtesan and placed her upon the altar of Notre Dame, we have seen notorious courtesans placed in the electric lights of Broadway, honoured by the admiration and adulation of millions of men and women, and held up on stage and screen for the delighted admiration of the young. (It may be possible that God made a mistake in selecting His Mother.)

WORSHIP OF SELF

Most of all, Christ has seen Himself supplanted in modern life, not by the service of even so brilliant a leader as Lucifer. When the angels turned from God to Lucifer, they were picking a bad second choice, yet a second choice of brilliance and beauty and power. Today Lucifer has cleverly substituted for himself and God the contemptible service of self, the debasing worship of self.

“Why should you serve the Creator?” Lucifer insinuates into receptive ears. “Serve your own interests, and only your own interests. What right has God to give you commandments? Make your own laws. What right has Christ to lay down hard laws for you? Decide for yourself which of His commands you will accept and which you will reject. The Church pretendsto speak with an infallible voice. Don’t allow your life to be governed by so thoroughly mediae- val an institution.”

And his suggestions, accepted and repeated by thousands of brilliant subordinates, ring through modern life and modern literature. Lucifer is content gracefully to appear to step aside, provided that the service of self means the thrusting of God into second place.

FOR HIS DEFENCE

This is the black picture of the warfare, the presentation of just one side of the conflict. Fortunately there is another side, too, the ever-growing army sworn to stand at the side of Christ and fight His war to the death. There are the modern successors, millions of them, of the good angels and of those faithful few who loved and clung to Him when the whole world was conspiring for His death.

For, if every sin is a blow struck at Christ, every good action is a blow struck in His defence. If impurity, by rotting bodies, brutalising souls, destroying homes, and spoiling the future of little children, drags down the work He came to do, every pure man or woman is an intimate associate of the pure Christ and places a pure body between the wolves of the world and the future generation.

Dishonesty takes sides with the lying witnesses who swore away the life of Christ; honesty cries out in His defence. Doubt wags its head and walks no more with Him; faith says staunchly, “To whom else shall we go? for Thou hast the words of eternal life.” If the grafting politician and the tricky statesman ape the betrayal of Judas, the honourable man of affairs stands with John near the Cross, admitting his part with Christ crucified.

HIGH STAKES

Men and women are prone to forget the tremendous issues at stake in this warfare. Christ is the concrete expression of what is finest and best in humanity. We cannot make war upon Him without attacking human purity, unselfishness, love of neighbour, high honour, service of country, gratitude for favours, the desire to benefit mankind, tenderness of heart, strength of purpose, respect for women, gentleness to the unfortunate, comradeship among men, reverence for little children, loyalty to friends, forgiveness of enemies, all that He Himself expressed in the idea of the fatherhood of God, and the brotherhood of men.

Nor can we make war on any of these things without making war on Him.

The man who betrays a woman betrays Christ’s reverent love of womankind. A man who tricks his neighbour, tricks the Christ who bade us love our neighbour. No man closes his heart to the cries of the unfortunate or to the needs of little children without closing his heart to the Christ who comforted the unfortunate and loved little children. If a man refuses forgiveness to his enemies, he dare not ask forgiveness of the Christ from whom he himself so desperately needs forgiveness.

“As long as you did it to one of these My least brethren, you did it to Me.” Christ’s statement is unequivocal and inclusive. For the good it should be the highest joy; for the evil, a frightening consideration.

So, if one adopts the side of Christ, one stands for all that is best in human conduct.

If one takes any low standard, at that moment he has turned against Christ and taken his place with the lustful Herod, the tricky Judas, the sceptical Pilate, the ambitious priests; and Lucifer the proud holds out welcoming arms to another recruit.

Christ’s army is not battling merely to scale the heights of heaven. It is fighting with all its magnificent strength to bring decency to earth, and honour and cleanness of body and soul. It is warring for the protection of children and women and homes, of the weak and defenceless, of the precious things on which the happiness of the world is grounded and without which the earth becomes a pigsty and a terrifying cage of lawless wild animals.

AGAIN THE VISION

So, before the world today appears, as it appeared in that first vision of heaven, the calm, strong, beautiful, appealing figure of Jesus Christ. He looks straight into the heart of every man and woman in the world. Each heart hears Him say, “Come, follow Me.”

No invitation could be clearer than this royal invitation to enlist as the saints have done, under the standard that signifies happiness for the world and the conquest of .that world for the Heavenly Father. Strange1y enough, that invitation sounds in the hearts of millions who never knew the name of Jesus Christ and other millions who know Him only imperfectly. It is the rallying cry of all the good and fine throughout the world.

INVITATION AND RESPONSE

Yet it is, we must remember, an invitation. No coercion is exercised here. No force binds or compels. No chain drags any soul to slavery. All must join Him freely. He invites men and women to accept His captaincy. He offers them His comradeship as well as His leadership. But they must answer spontaneously, moved by the charm of the Leader and the glory of His cause.

And from a million loyal followers goes up the answer, in rousing shout, in quietly whispered prayer, in gallant gesture, in the quick bending of the knee: “Lead on, for we will follow You.”

DOMINANCE

From another million go up low rumbles of protest, wild shouts of indignant refusal, sneering laughter tinged with contempt, indignant repudiation of all the invitation implies. Cowards turn away afraid of the conflict. Laggards glance back over their shoulders at the beautiful things of the world (made in that moment especially fascinating by command of Lucifer) and sigh, “Must I give up all these to follow You?” Proud heads are flung upwards as Lucifer’s was flung, and the cry, “I will not serve!” is hurled in the face of Christ.

Now, as in every age, Christ’s is the dominant figure. In love or hatred men look up at Him, see Him, and lift their hands flung high in royal salute or clenched in threatening fist. Cowards may run away, but there is no place for them to run except into the ranks of His enemies. Men may seek to avoid the conflict; they find themselves in the end leagued, by their destructive apathy, with His enemies.

Now and always “He that is not with Me is against Me.”

NEW WEAPONS

Day after day the din of battle rises all about the modern man and woman. From filthy news stands the poison gas of rotten literature floats in deadly green clouds. Sharpshooters from a decadent stage snipe virtue, innocence, and the decencies. Scholarly professors fire deadly shrapnel into crowded classrooms, with deadly effect upon the souls of youth.

Dishonest business enlists the brains and brilliance of men in a war that makes might right and sees in success the supreme justification for any method of attack. Dark conspiracies hurl mobs against personal property. The hobnailed armies of Communism march steadily on against State and Church and the home and the commonest rights of humanity.

With Michael and His Hosts. With masterly generalship Lucifer enlists on his side great forces of cleverness and wit and beauty and wealth and envy and passion and discontent and pride. He knows that even with them he can never ultimately defeat God or His chosen Leader, Jesus Christ. But he also knows that they canhurt God’s best beloved sons and daughters. They can impede the work of His Church. They can spoil the peace and happiness of earth. They can drive men into the mad charge of battle, until, blinded by the smoke and deafened by the din, they regain full consciousness only as the gates of hell clang to behind them. Recruiting his army on earth, Lucifer knows he is recruiting his slaves for eternity.

But that side which was powerful enough to attract God’s warrior, Michael, and the best of the angelic hosts is daily augmented by the best of earth. New missionaries, cross aloft, advance steadily to the conquest of fresh lands. Each morning, at a million altars, the priests bring down the Commander in Chief for an early council before the day’s battle. Religious priests and brothers train young men to fight the battle of life with high courage.

Brave, splendid men fire a decisive no into the teeth of temptation. Young men face the hot rebellion within their own souls, curb it with strong, pure hands, and turn what might have been ruinous passion into the devoted service of God and humanity. The same emotional strength which, perverted, would have made them rakes and roués and despoilers of innocence makes them, enlisted in the cause of Christ, tender husbands, sympathetic fathers, sincere lovers of their fellow-men.

And though they may not wear silver armour or stride a white horse, young women and older women, like modern Joans of Arc, do mighty battle for God’s cause. Devoted, unselfish mothers, they guard courageously and vigilantly the little fortresses that are their homes. Tenderly they bind the wounds that sin has made in human souls.

Purity with them is the golden shield protecting their bodies for the sake of the man they will love and the children they will give to the Lover of little children. Charity for them is the daily walking at the side of the Divine Physician, touching with cool, healing hands the aching heads and sick hearts of humanity, bringing to sin-sodden mankind the tenderness that lies in the soul only of good women.

Stainless nuns hold the far outposts of Christ’s far-flung battle line in hospitals, orphanages, refuges, schools, contemplative convents. Splendid mothers stand protectingly between their children and the soldiers of a modern Herod come to slay them. Young women walk into the world, and their shining purity and intelligent faith strike victoriously for Christ with wounds that bring life, not death, safety, not ruin, to the future.

DEFENCE BY ATTACK

In this war, as in all wars, the best defence is fearless attack. The army of Christ does not merely stand its ground in safe entrenchments. It carries the fight to the enemy. It even wins from the side of Lucifer new recruits for the army of God.

Sterling example carried into business and social life by those who stand by the side of the perhaps invisible Christ captures where arguments might be fired without results. Bad literature is met with the return barrage of good literature. Deeds of charity compel an acknowledgment of the love of God and of humanity that inspired them. Faltering souls are strengthened by theexample of heroic courage that they see in Christ’s followers. Hesitant souls are swayed to the army that is Christ’s.

THROUGH HISTORY

Through the ages brave men and women have responded with all the high enthusiasm of their hearts to this war that throws them into the companionship and under the captaincy of Christ. Paul rose from the dust to turn the sword of persecution with which he had been smiting the Christians into the gloriously sweeping sword of world-conquest. Lucifer knew he had lost one of his brilliant allies when he heard the changed voice of Saul crying, “Lord, what wilt Thou have me to do?”

The martyrs went out into the battlefield glad to shed their blood in so glorious a cause. Missionaries walked fearlessly into savage lands where Lucifer was worshipped under a thousand hideous shapes and with a thousand vile rites, to fling down his obscene images from the temples and put in their place the symbol of Redemption.

Husbands and fathers, coming from their homes beautifully like the house of Nazareth, preached to the world by example and by deed the beauty of the faith that inspired their conduct.

And the glorious army of women, from those first brave souls on Calvary to the last courageous girl entering religious life or the modern Madonna accepting the children God sends her, have carried on the fight with a strength that cannot be resisted. Agnes and Cecilia and Theresa and Catherine, Jane Frances and Frances of Rome, Joan of Arc and Catherine of Siena, the nun who trained you in third grade, the mother whose devoted self-sacrifice made your youth safe and happy, are Christ’s willing warriors on the only important battlefield in the world.

A RECONNOITRE OF THE ENEMY

But before us, more truly now than ever, the army of Lucifer gathers in restless energy and skilled plans of attack. Brilliantly the light gleams from their armour, though that armour covers hearts filled with hatred of God and His law, and with open purposes that mean the destruction of the human race through an attack on faith, on charity, on innocence, on marriage, on the home.

Scarcely less beautiful and strong do they seem than were the angels who rallied to the side of Lucifer when he began his war upon God. They bear a strong resemblance to those haughty priests who held fast the rich corridors and sanctuaries of the Temple of Jerusalem and to those clever, cynical, magnificently strong Romans who looked upon the figure of a Carpenter-King and thought Him more than a little absurd. And like the priests and the governors, these moderns are leagued together in a frank conspiracy to destroy the Christ who still has the temerity to speak to a morally emancipated world of purity and faith and the humble acceptance of His law.

What right-minded man or woman cares that the handle of the sword is beautifully carved and its blade of Toledo steel if its blows are directed toward the heart of Christ and of humanity? What matters it that tongues are clever if they sneer at the Saviour? What does literary brilliance avail, the almost diabolic cleverness of many a modern book, if that brilliance is used to attack God and ridicule the honest man and the pure woman?

What ultimately does it profit a business man to build his fortune to the clouds and fill his nights with pleasure, when in the end he’ must give a strict balance-sheet of his life to the God whose accounting takes exact reckoning only of good and evil deeds? What will it avail the famous beauty to have her name written in the lights of Broadway if it is not also written in the Book of Life?

THE MODERN CHALLENGE

The call to modern battle rings out in t he challenge of Christ’s chief of staff, the Holy Father. “Catholic Action!” he cries, and the followers of Christ respond.

This is no vague and mysteriously ambiguous call. It is simply the ringing challenge to be ashamed of sloth and apathy, when the army of Lucifer moves with restless energy and resourcefulness. It is the call to a life of active service, whatever one’s vocation may be, service dedicated to Christ and His cause.

And the challenge has drawn to the side of Christ great new armies of warriors. Their own lives are the clear expression of the faith that is in their souls and of the love of God that dominates that faith. They are active in their campaign for souls, whether it be by supporting the missions, working for their parish church, taking part in great Catholic movements, spreading Catholic literature, talking of their faith to others, learning to know it better so that they may better explain it to inquirers, doing charity work among God’s poor, or any of the thousand aggressive things by which new fields are won for Christ.

ULTIMATE DECISION

When the soul faces its Judge it will not want to say in trembling admission, “I waged war against You.” It will want to say, humbly but confidently, “Christ, my Leader, to the best of my ability I fought at Your side.

This is no deathbed decision. One does not become a fighter as the last grim warrior known as Death grapples the body for a final throw. It is a decision for youth, for full maturity, for vigorously alive manhood and glowing womanhood. And it is a decision that must be made with perfect freedom.

Christ will not force your decision. You make it freely, without coercion. Now as always He wants willing service. Now as always He will accept no other. Christ wants brothers in arms, sisters in service, not slaves nor driven mercenaries.

The whole conquest of the world might have been accomplished by Christ alone. Christ was omnipotent, He was God made man; He might have crushed His enemies with a gesture, won the whole kingdom during his lifetime, marched into heaven in proud and complete triumph.

That, however, was not His purpose. He determined to share the glory with us, His creatures. He permitted us to take part in the conflict, to bear honourable scars, to win sectors of the battlefield for Him. He unfurled the banner of the Cross as a signal for volunteers. He wanted free companions. He asked for brave souls loyal to His Father and devoted to their fellow men.

MY CAPTAIN

And with a thrill of pride I realise my high privilege. I may stand at the very side of Christ Himself. I may make His cause my cause, His glorious purposes my objectives. I may claim as my commander no selfish general bent on looting the world, nor harsh dictator whose eyes are aflame with lust of power and whose hand rises in mail-clad power above a crushed world. I follow no philosopher groping for truth nor scientist piddling about till he grasps some infinitesimal fraction of the universe and weighs it in inaccurate scales.

I follow the glorious Son of God, whose eyes are filled with tender pity, whose hands are scarred with the wounds of His sacrifice for mankind, whose feet are tireless in the pursuit of the world’s needy, whose back is loaded with the weight of the world’s ills, whose mind fountains divine truth, whose heart glows with burning love for all the children of His Heavenly Father.

I follow the Leader who hates only evil and makes war only upon those things that will ruin mankind. I give my loyalty to the world’s most illustrious man. I follow Him, perhaps through the dangers and terrors of Gethsemane and the apparent defeat of Calvary, but to a victory as certain as Easter’s and as glorious as the Resurrection.

Not the most beautiful or clever or brilliant or persuasive or powerful of Lucifer’s modern lieutenants can turn me aside from that Leader. No eloquent tongue can seduce me. No enthralling book can persuade my treason. For those who fight Christ hardly knowing Him I feel deep and prayerful pity. For those who fight Him with hatred in their heart I have the firm resolve to meet war with war, their relentless attack upon Christ with my tireless defence of Him.

YOUR CHOICE

My captain is Christ. Let those follow Lucifer who do not know the Saviour or who, knowing Him, reject Him. So the choice must be made, and made by you. This is no allegory or flight of fancy or dramatic unreality. It is stern and terrifying fact.

As truly as in that vision of heaven, you must choose either Christ or Lucifer.

Then, where do you stand? Whom do you choose?

Lucifer and his followers? Those rebellious and ungrateful angels? Cain, the first murderer? The builders of the

Tower of Babel? The loathsome sinners of Sodom? The priests of occult and filthy cults? Pilate and Judas? Herod and Nero? Arius and the early heretics? Voltaire and the unhappy Christ-haters and God-baiters of literature? The donothing kings and their lustful courts? Henry of England, faithful neither to wives nor to Church? The brilliant modern writers who make their hatred of morality dominate their hatred of truth, and who lead young men and women deliberately astray? The murderers, convicted or unconvicted. whose hands are soiled with the blood of bodies and the invisible death of souls? Surely they do not appear attractive.

Or shall it be the army of Christ? Michael the Archangel, and the faithful band of warrior angels? The Patriarchs struggling against a world grovelling at the feet of idols and offering Lucifer the sweet incense of their sacrificed children and their raped virgins? Peter and the Apostles marching out to reconstruct the world? Sebastian and Lawrence? Anastasia and Philomena? Xavier and Aloysius? The Little Flower and young Gabriel? The worldconquering missionaries and the fathers happy in their children? The great abbesses of mediaeval days and the splendid mothers of holy families? The writers who loved truth better than cleverness, and true beauty more than the daintiest smut? The scholars who could see beyond the atom under their microscope to the God who sent the atom’s particles spinning in a tiny solar system? Saints and poets and the vast army of the pure and strong and good?

Mary is there. So are the great and virtuous who perhaps never heard the name of Christ, but who loved their fellow-men and worshipped truth and beauty with disinterested service.

Both groups ask you to join their ranks.

There is no escaping.

It is war to the death.

Which army is yours?

Which leader claims your allegiance?

Nihil Obstat:

J. DONOVAN, Censor Deputatus.

Imprimatur:

@ D. Mannix,

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis.

1 May 30, 1936. (No. 64.) ********

Rome Has Spoken

ARRANGED BY DOROTHY BLOUNT

INDEX

INTRODUCTION

In the troubled times in which we live there is much muddled thinking and it is to guide Catholics along the way of truth and justice that Rome speaks from time to time by way of encyclical letters to the clergy and laity. These letters of the Popes lay down in clear and precise terms the ruling of the Church in matters of opinion as well as action, on questions of public importance, not only on moral issues but also on social and economic questions, for the Church has at heart not only the spiritual welfare of Her children but their material good also.

This booklet is an attempt to give in a handy form the official ruling of the Church on a few selected social and economic problems, by quoting from the actual words of the Popes.

The extracts are taken from the encyclicals of Leo XIII and Pius XI, and the references given should further study of the complete letters be desired.

THE CHURCH DOES NOT DISAPPROVE OF ANY LAWFUL FORM OF GOVERNMENT [FROM THE ENCYCLICAL LETTER OF LEO XIII

“Sapientiae Christianae,” 10th January, 1890]

THE CHURCH, the guardian always of her own right and most observant of that of others, holds that it is not her province to decide which is the best amongst many diverse forms of government and the civil institutions of Christian States, and amid the various kinds of State rule, she does not disapprove of any, provided the respect due to religion and the observance of good moral be upheld. By such standard of conduct should the thoughts and mode of acting of every Catholic be directed. There is no doubt but that in the sphere of politics ample matter may exist for legitimate difference of opinion, and that the single reserve being made of the rights of justice and truth, all may strive to bring into actual working the ideas believed likely to be more conducive than others to the general welfare. But to attempt to involve the Church in party strife, and seek to bring her support to bear against those who take opposite views, is only worthy of partisans. Religion should, on the contrary, be accounted by everyone as holy and inviolate-nay, in the public order itself of States-which cannot be severed from the laws influencing morals and from religious duties-it is always urgent, and indeed the main pre-occupation, to take thought how best to consult the interests of Catholicism. Wherever these appear by reason of the efforts of adversaries to be in danger, all difference of opinion among Catholics should forthwith cease, so that like thoughts and counsels prevailing, they may hasten to the aid of religion, the general and supreme good, to which all else should be referred.

A GODLESS GOVERNMENT SELF-CONDEMNED [FROM THE ENCYCLICAL LETTER OF LEO XIII “SAPIENTIAE CHRISTIANAE,” 10TH JANUARY, 1890]

NATURE DID NOT fashion society with intent that man should seek in it his last end, but that in it and through it he should find suitable aids whereby to attain to his own perfection. If, then a civil government strives after external advantages merely, and the attainment of such objects as adorn life; if in administering public affairs it is wont to put God aside, and show no solicitude for the upholding of moral law; it deflects woefully from its right course and from the injunctions of nature: nor should a gathering together and association of men be accounted as a commonwealth, but only as a deceitful imitation and make-believe of civil organization.

THE CHURCH’S OPPOSITION TO COMMUNISM

[Owing to widespread muddled thinking which confuses the Labour Party with the Socialist and uses both terms as synonymous, Pius XI in his Encyclical “Quadragesimo Anno,” published in commemoration of the fortieth anniversary of the Encyclical of Leo XIII” Rerum Novarum,” defines true Socialism and states the reasons for the Church’s opposition to it.]

SINCE THE DAYS of Leo XIII, Socialism too, the great enemy with which his battles were waged, has undergone profound changes, no less than economics. At that time Socialism could fairly be termed a single system, which defended certain definite and mutually coherent doctrines. Nowadays it has in the main become divided into two opposing, and often bitterly hostile camps, neither of which, however, has abandoned the principle peculiar to Socialism, namely, opposition to the Christian Faith.

COMMUNISM

One section of Socialism has undergone approximately the same change through which, as We have described, the capitalistic regime has passed; it has degenerated into Communism. Communism teaches and pursues a twofold aim : merciless class warfare, and complete abolition of private ownership; and this it does, not in secret and by hidden methods, but openly, frankly, and by every means, even the most violent. To obtain these ends, Communists shrink from nothing and fear nothing; and when they have attained to power, it is unbelievable, indeed it seems portentous, how cruel and inhuman they show themselves to be. Evidence for this is the ghastly destruction and ruin with which they have laid waste immense tracts of Eastern Europe and Asia ; while their antagonism and open hostility to Holy Church and to God Himself are, alas, ; but too well known and proved by their deeds. We do not think it necessary to warn upright and faithful children of the Church against the impious and nefarious character of Communism. But We cannot contemplate without sorrow the heedlessness of those who seem to make light of these imminent dangers, and with stolid indifference allow the propagation far and wide of those doctrines which seek by violence and blood-shed the destruction of all society. Even more severely must be condemned the foolhardiness of those who neglect to remove or modify such conditions as exasperate the minds of the people and so prepare the way for the overthrow and ruin of the social order.

SOCIALISM

The other section, which has retained the name of Socialism, is much less radical in its views. Not only does it condemn recourse to physical force; it even mitigates and moderates to some extent class warfare and the abolition of private property, if it does not reject them entirely. It would seem as if Socialism were afraid of its own principles and of the conclusion drawn therefrom by the Communists, and in consequence were drifting towards the truth which Christian tradition has always held in respect ; for it cannot be denied that its programmes often strikingly approach the just demands of Christian social reformers.

CLASS WARFARE

Class warfare, provided it abstains from enmities and mutual hatred, is changing gradually to an honest discussion of differences, based upon the desire of social justice. If this is by no means the blessed social peace which we all long for, it can be and must be an approach towards the mutual co-operation of vocational groups. The war declared against private ownership has also abated more and more in such a way that nowadays it is not really the possession of the means of production which is attacked, but that type of social rulership, which, in violation of all justice has been seized and usurped by the owners of wealth. This rulership in fact belongs, not to the individual owners, but to the State. If these changes continue, it may well come about that gradually the tenets of mitigated Socialism will no longer be different from the programme of those who seek to reform human society according to Christian principles. For it is rightly contended that certain forms of property must be reserved to the State, since they carry with them an opportunity of domination too great to be left to private individuals without injury to the community at large.

Just demands and desires of this kind contain nothing opposed to Christian truth, nor are they in any sense peculiar to Socialism. Those therefore who look for nothing else, have no reason for becoming Socialists.

CHRISTIAN TRUTH WHOLE AND ENTIRE

It must not be imagined, however, that all the Socialist sects or factions which are not Communist have, in fact or in theory, uniformly returned to this reasonable position. For the most part they do not reject class warfare and the Christian abolition of property, but merely are more moderate in regard to them. Now, when false principles are thus mitigated and in some sense waived, the question arises, or is unwarrantably proposed in certain quarters, whether the principles of Christian truth also could not be somewhat moderated and attenuated, so as to meet Socialism, as it were, halfway upon common ground. Some are enticed by the empty hope of gaining in this way the Socialists to our cause. But such hopes are vain. Those who wish to be apostles amongst the Socialists should preach the Christian truth whole and entire, openly and sincerely, without any connivance with error. If they wish in truth to be heralds of the Gospel, let their endeavour be to convince Socialists that their demands, in so far as they are just, are defended much more cogently by the principles of Christian faith, and are promoted much more efficaciously by the power of Christian charity.

But what if, in questions of class war and private ownership, Socialism were to become so mitigated and amended, that nothing reprehensible could any longer be found in it ? Would it by that very fact have laid aside its character of hostility to the Christian religion? This is a question which holds many minds in suspense; and many are the Catholics who, realizing clearly that Christian principles can never be either sacrificed or minimized, seem to be raising their eyes towards the Holy See, and earnestly beseeching Us to decide whether or not this form of Socialism has retracted so far its false doctrines that it can now be accepted without the loss of any Christian principle, and be baptized into the Church. In Our fatherly solicitude We desire to satisfy these petitions, and We pronounce as follows: Whether Socialism be considered as a doctrine, or as an historical fact, or as a movement, if it really remain Socialism, it cannot be brought into harmony with the dogmas of the Catholic Church, even after it has yielded to truth and justice in the points We have mentioned; the reason being that it conceives human society in a way utterly alien to Christian truth.

CHRISTIANITY AND SOCIALISM COMPARED

For according to Christian doctrine, man, endowed with a social nature, is placed here on earth in order that he may spend his life in society, and under an authority ordained by God; that he may develop and evolve to the full all his faculties to the praise and glory of his Creator; and that, by fulfilling faithfully the duties of his station, he may attain to temporal and eternal happiness. Socialism, on the contrary, entirely ignorant of or unconcerned about this sublime end both of individuals and of society, affirms that living in community was instituted merely for the sake of the advantages which it brings to mankind.

Goods are produced more efficiently by a suitable distribution of labour than by the scattered efforts of individuals. Hence the Socialists argue that economic production, of which they see only the material side, must necessarily be carried on collectively, and that because of this necessity men must surrender and submit themselves wholly to society with a view to the production of wealth. Indeed, the possession of the greatest possible amount of temporal goods is esteemed so highly, that man’s higher goods, not excepting liberty, must, they claim, be subordinated and ever sacrificed to the exigencies of efficient production. They affirm that the loss of human dignity, which results from these socialized methods of production, will be easily compensated for by the abundance of goods produced in common and accruing to the individual, who can turn them at his will to the comforts and culture of life. Society, therefore, as the Socialist conceives it, is on the one hand impossible and unthinkable without the use of compulsion of the most excessive kind; on the other it fosters a false liberty, since in such a scheme no place is found for true social authority, which is not based on temporal and material advantages, but descends from God alone, the Creator and last end of all things.

If, like all errors, Socialism contains a certain element of truth (and this the Sovereign Pontiffs have never denied), it is, nevertheless, founded upon a doctrine of human society peculiarly its own, which is opposed to true Christianity. “Religious Socialism,” “Christian Socialism,” are expressions implying a contradiction in terms. No one can be at the same time a sincere Catholic and a true Socialist.

THE SOCIALIST ERROR THAT ALL MEN ARE EQUAL [FROM THE ENCYCLICAL LETTER OF LEO XIII “QUOD APOSTOLICI MUNERIS” 28TH DECEMBER, 1878]

THE REAL EQUALITY OF MEN

FOR ALTHOUGH the Socialists, turning to evil use the Gospel itself so as to deceive more readily the unwary, have been wont to twist it to their meaning, still so striking is the disagreement between their criminal teachings and the pure doctrine of Christ, that no greater can exist: “ For what participation hath justice with injustice, or what fellowship hath light with darkness?” (2 Cor. Vi. 14). They in good sooth cease not from asserting-as We have already mentioned-that all men are by nature equal, and hence they contend that neither honour nor respect is owed to public authority, nor any obedience to the laws, saving perhaps to those which have been sanctioned according to their good pleasure. Contrariwise, from the Gospel records equality among men consists in this, that one and all, possessing the same nature, are called to the sublime dignity of being sons of God; and, moreover, that one and the same end being set before all, each and every one has to be judged according to the same laws and to have punishments or rewards meted out according to individual deserts. There is, however, an inequality of right and authority which emanates from the Author of nature Himself, “of whom all paternity in heaven and earth is named.” (Eph. iii. 15). As regards rulers and subjects, all without exception, according to Catholic teaching and precept, are mutually bound by duties and rights, in such manner that, on the one hand, moderation is enjoined on the appetite for power, and on the other, obedience is shown to be easy, stable and wholly honourable.

THE TEACHING OF THE CHURCH

Therefore does the Church constantly urge upon each and all who are subject to her the apostolic precept: “ There is no power but from God; and those that are, are ordained of God. Therefore he that resisteth the power resisteth the ordinance of God. And they that resist, purchase to themselves damnation.” And again, “Be subject of necessity, not only for wrath, but also for conscience’ sake. And render to all men their dues. Tribute to whom tribute is due; custom to whom custom; fear to whom fear; honour to whom honour.” (Rom. xiii, 1, 2, 5, 7). For He who has created and governs all things has in His provident wisdom so disposed them that the lowest attain to their end by the middle-most, and the middlemost by the highest. Just then, as the Almighty willed that, in the heavenly kingdom itself, the choirs of angels should be of different ranks, subordinated the one to the other; again, just as in the Church God has established different grades of orders with diversity of functions, so that all should not be “ Apostles, all not Prophets, all not Doctors;” (1 Cor. xii. 29); so also has He established in Civil Society many orders of varying dignity, right and power. And this to the end that the State, like the Church, should form one body comprising many members, some excelling others in rank and importance, but all alike necessary to one another and solicitous for the common welfare.

[On the same subject, from the Encyclical of Leo XIII “Rerum Novarum” 15th May, 1891]

MEN DIFFERENT BY NATURE

IT MUST BE first of all recognised that the condition of things inherent in human affairs must be borne with, for it is impossible to reduce civil society to one dead level. Socialists may in that event do their utmost, but all striving against nature is in vain. There naturally exist among mankind manifold differences of the most important kind; people differ in capacity, skill, health, strength; and unequal fortune is a necessary result of unequal condition. Such inequality is far from being disadvantageous either to individuals or to the community. Social and public life can only be maintained by means of various kinds of capacity for business and the playing of many parts; and each man, as a rule, chooses the part which suits his own peculiar domestic condition. As regards bodily labour, even had man never fallen from the state of innocence, he could not have remained wholly unoccupied; but that which would then have been his free choice and his delight, became afterwards compulsory, and the painful expiation for his disobedience. “Cursed be the earth in thy work; in thy labour thou shalt eat of it all the days of thy life.” (Gen. iii. 17).

In like manner, the other pains and hardships of life will have no end or cessation on earth; for the consequences of sin are bitter and hard to bear, and they must accompany man so long as life lasts. To suffer and to endure, therefore, is the lot of humanity; let them strive as they may, no strength and no artifice will ever succeed in banishing from human life the ills and troubles which beset it. If any there are who pretend differently-who hold out to a hard-pressed people the boon of freedom from pain and trouble, an undisturbed repose, and constant enjoyment-they delude the people and impose upon them, and their lying promises will only one day bring forth evils worse than the present. Nothing is more useful than to look upon the world as it really is-and at the same time to seek elsewhere, as we have said, for the solace to its troubles.

THE CHURCH UPHOLDS THE RIGHT TO OWN PROPERTY [FROM THE ENCYCLICAL LETTER OF LEO XIII “RERUM NOVARUM,” 15TH MAY, 1891]

MAN AND ANIMAL CREATION

EVERY MAN has by nature the right to possess property as his own. This is one of the chief points of distinction between man and the animal creation, for the brute has no power of self-direction, but is governed by two main instincts, which keep his powers on the alert, impel him to develop them in a fitting manner, and stimulate and determine him to action without any power of choice. One of these instincts is self-preservation, the other the propagation of the species. Both can attain their purpose by means of things which lie within range; beyond their verge the brute creation cannot go, for they are moved to action by their senses only, and in the special direction which these suggest. But with man it is wholly different. He possesses, on the one hand, the full perfection of the animal being, and hence enjoys, at least as much as the rest of the animal kind, the fruition of things material. But animal nature, however perfect, is far from representing the human being in its completeness, and is in truth but humanity’s humble handmaid, made to serve and to obey. It is the mind, or reason, which is the predominant element in us who are human creatures; it is this which renders a human being human, and distinguishes him essentially from the brute. And on this very account-that man alone among the animal creation is endowed with reason-it must be within his right to possess things not merely for temporary and momentary use, as other living things do, but to have and to hold them in stable and permanent possession; he must have not only things that perish in the use, but those also which, though they have been reduced into use, continue for further use in after time.

MAN MUST THINK OF THE FUTURE

This becomes still more clearly evident if man’s nature be considered a little more deeply. For man, fathoming by his faculty of reason matters without number, linking the future with the present, and being master of his own acts, guides his ways under the eternal law and the power of God, whose Providence governs all things. Wherefore it is in power to exercise his choice not only as to matters that regard his present welfare, but also about those which he deems may be for his advantage in time yet to come. Hence man not only should possess the fruits of the earth, but also the very soil, inasmuch as from the produce of the earth he has to lay by provision for the future. Man’s needs do not die out, but for ever recur; although satisfied to-day, they demand fresh supplies to-morrow. Nature accordingly must have given to man a source that is stable and remaining always with him from which he might look to draw continual supplies. And this stable condition of things he finds solely in the earth and its fruits.

MAN PRECEDES THE STATE

There is no need to bring in the State. Man precedes the State, and possesses, prior to the formation of any State, the right of providing for the sustenance of his body. The fact that God has given the earth for the use and enjoyment of the whole human race can in no way be a bar to the owning of private property. For God has granted the earth to mankind in general, not in the sense that all without distinction can deal with it as they like, but rather that no part of it was assigned to any one in particular, and that the limits of private possession have been left to be fixed by man’s own industry, and by the laws of individual races. Moreover, the earth, even though apportioned among private owners, ceases not thereby to minister to the needs of all, inasmuch as there is no one who does not sustain life from what the land produces. Those who do not possess the soil, contribute their labour; hence it may truly be said that all human subsistence is derived either from labour on one’s own land, or from some toil, some calling which is paid for either in the produce of the land itself, or in that which is exchanged for what the land brings forth.

Here again, we have further proof that private ownership is in accordance with the law of nature. Truly, that which is required for the preservation of life, and for life’s well-being, is produced in great abundance from the soil, but not until man has brought it into cultivation and expended upon it his solicitude and skill. Now, when man turns the activity of his mind and the strength of his body towards procuring the fruits of nature, by such act he makes his own that portion of nature’s field which he cultivates-that portion on which he leaves as it were, the impress of his individuality; and it cannot but be just that he should possess that portion as his very own, and have a right to hold it without anyone being justified in violating that right.

THE RESULTS OF LABOUR

So strong and convincing are these arguments, that it seems amazing that some should now be setting up anew certain obsolete opinions in opposition to what is here laid down.

They assert that it is right for private persons to have the use of the soil and its various fruits, but that it is unjust for any one to possess outright either the land on which he has built, or the estate which he has brought under cultivation. But those who deny these rights do not perceive that they are defrauding man of what his own labour has produced. For the soil which is tilled and cultivated with toil and skill utterly changes its condition; it was wild before, now it is fruitful; was barren, but now brings forth in abundance. That which has thus altered and improved the land becomes so truly part of itself as to be in great measure indistinguishable and inseparable from it. Is it just that the fruit of a man’s own sweat and labour should be possessed and enjoyed by any one else? As effects follow their cause, so is it just and right that the results of labour should belong to those who have bestowed their labour.

OWNERSHIP IN CONFORMITY WITH HUMAN NATURE

With reason then, the common opinion of mankind, little affected by the few dissentients who have contended for the opposite view, has found in the careful study of nature, and in the laws of nature, the foundations of the division of property, and the practice of all ages has consecrated the principles of private ownership, as being pre-eminently in conformity with human nature, and as conducing in the most unmistakable manner to the peace and tranquillity of human existence. The same principle is confirmed and enforced by the civil laws-laws which, so long as they are just,- derive from the law of nature their binding force. The authority of the Divine Law adds its sanction, forbidding us in severest terms even to covet that which is another’s: “Thou shalt not covet thy neighbour’s wife; nor his house, nor his field, nor his man-servant, nor his maid-servant, nor his ox, nor his ass, nor anything that is his.” (Deut. v. 2I).

That right to property, therefore, which has been proved to belong naturally to individual persons, must in like wise belong to a man in his capacity of head of a family ; nay, that right is all the more valid in proportion as human personality in the life of the family takes various forms. For it is a most sacred law of nature that a father should provide food and all necessaries for those whom he has begotten; and similarly it is natural that he should wish that his children, who carry on, so to speak, and continue his personality, should be by him provided with all that is needful to enable them to keep themselves decently from want and misery amid the uncertainties of this mortal life. Now, in no other way can a father effect this except by the ownership of productive property, which he can transmit to his children by inheritance. A family, no less than a State, is, as We have said, a true society, governed by an authority peculiar to itself, that is to say, by the authority of the father. Provided, therefore, the limits which are prescribed by the very purposes for which it exists be not transgressed, the family has at least equal rights with the State in the choice and pursuit of the things needful to its preservation and its just liberty.

THE CHURCH TEACHES THAT CLASS WAR IS WRONG [FROM THE ENCYCLICAL OF LEO XIII “ RERUM NOVARUM,” 15TH MAY, 18911

A FALSE NOTION

THE GREAT MISTAKE made in regard to the matter now under consideration, is to take up with the notion that class is naturally hostile to class, and that the wealthy and the working men are intended by nature to live in mutual conflict. So irrational and so false is this view, that the direct contrary is the truth. Just as the symmetry of the human frame is the result of the suitable arrangement of the different parts of the body, so in a State is it ordained by nature that these two classes should dwell in harmony and agreement, so as to maintain the balance of the body politic. Each needs the other; Capital cannot do without Labour, nor Labour without Capital. Mutual agreement results in the beauty of good order; while perpetual conflict necessarily produces confusion and savage barbarity. Now in preventing such strife as this, and in uprooting it, the efficacy of Christian institutions is marvellous and manifold. First of all, there is no intermediary more powerful than Religion (whereof the Church is the interpreter and guardian) in drawing the rich and the working class together, by reminding each of its duties to the other, and especially of the obligations of justice. Thus Religion teaches the labourer and the artisan to carry out honestly and fairly all equitable agreements freely entered into; never to injure the property, nor to outrage the person of an employer; never to resort to violence in defending their own cause, nor to engage in riot or disorder; and to have nothing to do with men of evil principles, who work upon the people with artful promises of great results, and excite foolish hopes which usually end in useless regrets and grievous loss.

THE DIGNITY OF THE WORKMAN

Religion teaches the wealthy owner and the employer that their work-people are not to be accounted their bondsmen; that in every man they must respect his dignity and worth as a man and as a Christian; that labour for wages is not a thing to be ashamed of, if we lend ear to right reason and to Christian philosophy, but is to a man’s credit, enabling him to earn his living in an honourable way ; and that it is shameful and inhuman to treat men like chattels to make money by, or to look upon them merely as so much muscle or physical strength. Again the Church teaches that, in dealing with the workingman religion and the good of his soul must be kept in mind. Hence the employer is bound to see that the worker has time for his religious duties; that he be not exposed to corrupting influences and dangerous occasions; and that he be not led away to neglect his home and family, or to squander his earnings. Furthermore, the employer must never tax his work-people beyond their strength, or employ them in work unsuited to their sex or age.

DUTIES OF THE EMPLOYER

His great and principal duty is to give every one what is just. Doubtless before deciding whether wages are fair, many things have to be considered; but wealthy owners and all masters of labour should be mindful of this that to exercise pressure upon the indigent and the destitute for the sake of gain, and to gather one’s profit out of the need of another, is condemned by all laws, human and divine. To defraud any one of wages that are his due is a crime which cries to the avenging anger of Heaven. “Behold the hire of the labourers . . . which by fraud has been kept back by you, crieth, and the cry of them hath entered into the ears of the Lord of Sabaoth.” (James v. 4). Lastly, the rich must religiously refrain from cutting down the workmen’s earnings, whether by force, by fraud, or by usurious dealing; and with all the greater reason because the labouring man is, as a rule, weak and unprotected, and because his slender means should in proportion to their scantiness be accounted sacred.

Were these precepts carefully obeyed and followed out, would they not be sufficient of themselves to keep under all strife and all its causes?

THE RIGHT USE OF MONEY

[From the Encyclical of Leo XIII “Rerum Novarum” 15th May, 1891]

THE CHIEF and most excellent rule for the right use of money rests on the principle that it is one thing to have a right to the possession of money, and another to have a right to use money as one wills. Private ownership, as we have seen, is the natural right of man; and to exercise that right, especially as members of society, is not only lawful, but absolutely necessary. “It is lawful,” says St. Thomas of Aquinas, “for a man to hold private property, and it is also necessary for the carrying on of human existence.” But if the question be asked, “how must one’s possessions be used?,” the Church replies without hesitation in the words of the same holy Doctor: “Man should not consider his material possessions as his own, but as common to all, so as to share them without hesitation when others are in need. Whence the Apostle saith, Command the rich of this world . . . to offer with no stint, to apportion largely.” True, no one is commanded to distribute to others that which is required for his own needs and those of his household; nor even to give away what is reasonably required to keep up becomingly his condition in life; “for no one ought to live other than becomingly.” But when what necessity demands has been supplied, and one’s standing fairly taken thought for, it becomes a duty to give to the indigent out of what remains over. “Of that which remaineth give alms.” (Luke xi. 41).

CHRISTIAN CHARITY

It is a duty, not of justice (save in extreme cases), but of Christian charity-a duty not enforced by human law. But the laws and judgments of men must yield place to the laws and judgments of Christ the true God, who in many ways urges on His followers the practice of almsgiving-” It is more blessed to give than to receive;” (Acts xx. 35) ; and who will count a kindness done or refused to the poor as done or refused to Himself-”As long as you did it to one of My least brethren you did it to Me.” (Matt. xxv. 40). To sum up then what has been said: Whoever has received from the Divine bounty a large share of temporal blessings, whether they be external and material, or gifts of the mind, has received them for the purpose of using them for the perfecting of his own nature, and, at the same time, that he may employ them, as the steward of God’s Providence, for the benefit of others. “ He that hath a talent,” says St. Gregory the Great, “ let him see that he hide it not ; he that hath abundance let him quicken himself to mercy and generosity ; he that hath art and skill, let him do his best to share the use and the utility thereof with his neighbour “ (St. Greg. the Great, Hom. ix in Evangel. n.7).

THE CHURCH CHAMPIONS THE POOR [FROM THE ENCYCLICAL LETTER “RERUM NOVARUM” 15TH MAY, 1891]

CHRISTIAN MORALITY

NEITHER MUST IT be supposed that the solicitude of the Church is so preoccupied with the spiritual concerns of her children as to neglect their temporal and earthly interests. Her desire is that the poor, for example, should rise above poverty and wretchedness, and better, their condition in life; and for this she makes a strong endeavour. By the very fact that she calls men to virtue and forms them to its practice, she pro-motes this in no slight degree. Christian morality, when adequately and completely practised, leads of itself to temporal prosperity, for it merits the blessing of that God who is the source of all blessings; it powerfully restrains the greed of possession and the thirst for pleasure-twin plagues, which too often make a man who is void of self-restraint miserable in the midst of abundance ; it makes men supply for the lack of means through economy, teaching them to be content with frugal living, and further, keeping them out of the reach of those vices which devour not small incomes merely, but large fortunes, and dissipate many a goodly inheritance.

THE EARLY CHRISTIANS

The Church, moreover, intervenes directly in behalf of the poor, by setting on foot and maintaining many associations which she knows to be efficient for the relief of poverty. Herein again she has always succeeded so well as to have even extorted the praise of her enemies. Such was the ardour of brotherly love among the earliest Christians that numbers of those who were in better circumstances despoiled themselves of their possessions in order to relieve their brethren; whence “neither was there any one needy among them.” (Acts iv. 34). To the order of deacons, instituted in that very intent, was committed by the Apostles the charge of the daily doles; and the Apostle Paul, though burdened with the solicitude of all the churches, hesitated not to undertake laborious journeys in order to carry the alms of the faithful to the poorer Christians. Tertullian calls these contributions, given voluntarily by Christians in their assemblies, deposits of piety; because, to cite his own words, they were employed “in feeding the needy, in burying them, in the support.of youths and maidens destitute of means and deprived of their parents, in the care of the aged, and the relief of the shipwrecked.” (Apologia Secunda, xxxix.)

THE CHARITY OF THE CHURCH

Thus by degrees came into existence the patrimony which the Church has guarded with religious care as the inheritance of the poor. Nay, to spare them the shame of begging, the common Mother of rich and poor has exerted herself to gather together funds for the support of the needy. The Church has aroused everywhere the heroism of charity, and has established congregations of religious and many other useful institutions for help and mercy, so that hardly any kind of suffering could exist which was not afforded relief. At the present day many there are who, like the heathen of old, seek to blame and condemn the Church for such eminent charity. They would substitute in its stead a system of relief organized by the State. But no human expedients will ever make up for the devotedness and self-sacrifice of Christian charity. Charity, as a virtue, pertains to the Church; for virtue it is not unless it be drawn from the Sacred Heart of Jesus Christ; and whosoever turns his back on the Church cannot be near to Christ.

It cannot, however, be doubted that to attain the purpose we are treating of, not only the Church, but all human agencies must concur. All who are concerned in the matter should be of one mind and according to their ability act together.

ON STRIKES

[From the Encyclical of Leo XIII “Rerum Novarum,” 15th May, 1891]

WHEN WORKPEOPLE have recourse to a strike, it is frequently because the hours of labour are too long, or the work too hard, or because they consider their wages insufficient. The grave inconvenience of this not uncommon occurrence should’ be, obviated by public remedial measures; for such paralyzing of labour not only affects the masters and their workpeople alike, but is extremely injurious to trade and to the general interests of the public ; moreover, on such occasions, violence and disorder are generally not far distant, and thus it frequently happens that the public peace is imperilled. The laws should forestall and prevent such troubles from arising; they should lend their influence and authority to the removal in good time of the causes which lead to conflicts between employers and employed.

THE LIVING WAGE

From the Encyclical of Leo XIII “Rerum Novarum,” 15th May, 1891]

WE NOW APPROACH a subject of great importance, and one in respect of which, if extremes are to be avoided, right notions are absolutely necessary. Wages as we are told, are regulated by free consent and therefore the employer, when he pays what was agreed upon, has done his part and seemingly is not called upon to do anything beyond. The only way, it is said, in which injustice might occur would be if the master refused to pay the whole of the wages, or if the workman should not complete the work undertaken ; in such cases the State should intervene to see that each obtains his due ; but not under any other circumstances.

TWO CHARACTERS OF LABOUR

To this kind of argument a fair-minded man will not easily or entirely assent: it is not complete, for there are important considerations which it leaves out of account altogether. To labour is to exert oneself for the sake of procuring what is necessary for the various purposes of life, and chief of all for self-preservation. “In the sweat of thy face thou shalt eat bread.” (Gen. iii. Iq). Hence a man’s labour necessarily bears two notes or characters. First of all, it is personal, inasmuc h as the force which acts is bound up with the personality and is the exclusive property of him who acts, and further, was given to him for his advantage. Secondly, man’s labour is necessary, for without the result of labour a man cannot live; and self-preservation is a law of nature which it is wrong to disobey. Now, were we to consider labour merely in so far as it is personal, doubtless it would be within the work-man’s right to accept any rate of wages whatsoever; for in the same way as he is free to work or not, so is he free to accept a small wage or even none at all. But our conclusion must be very different if together with the personal element in a man’s work we consider the fact that work is also necessary for him to live : these two aspects of his work are separable in thought, but not in reality. The preservation of life is the bounden duty of one and all and to be wanting therein is a crime. It necessarily follows that each one has a natural right to procure what is required in order to live ; and the poor can procure that in no other way than by what they earn through their work.

A DICTATE OF NATURAL JUSTICE

Let the working man and the employer make free agreements and in particular let them agree freely as to the wages; nevertheless, there underlies a dictate of natural justice more imperious and ancient than any bargain between man and man, namely, that wages ought not to be insufficient to support a frugal and well-behaved wage-earner. If through necessity or fear of a worse evil the workman accept harder conditions because an employer or contractor will afford him no better, he is made the victim of force and injustice. In these and similar questions, however-such as for example, the hours of labour in different trades, the sanitary precautions to be observed in factories and workshops, etc.-in order to supersede undue interference on the part of the State, especially as circumstances, times and localities differ so widely, it is advisable that recourse be had to Societies or Boards such as We shall mention presently, or to some other mode of safeguarding the interests of the wage-earners ; the State being appealed to, should circumstances require, for its sanction and protection.

THRIFT

If a workman’s wages be sufficient to enable him comfortably to support himself, his wife and his children, he will find it easy, if he be a sensible man, to practise thrift ; and he will not fail, by cutting down expenses, to put by some little savings and thus secure a modest source of income. Nature itself would urge him to this. We have seen that this great labour question cannot be solved; save by assuming as a principle that private ownership must be held sacred and inviolable. The law, therefore, should favour ownership, and its policy should be to induce as many as possible of the people to become owners.

EXCELLENT RESULTS

Many excellent results will follow from this and first of all, property will certainly become more equitably divided. For the result of civil change and revolution has been to divide society into two widely differing castes. On the one side there is the party which holds power because it holds wealth ; which has in its grasp the whole of labour and trade; which manipulates for its own benefit and its own purpose all the sources of supply, and which is even represented in the councils of the State itself. On the other side there is the needy and powerless multitude, sick and sore in spirit and ever ready for disturbance. If working people can be encouraged to look forward to obtaining a share in the land, the consequence will be that the gulf between vast wealth and sheer poverty will be bridged over, and the respective classes will be brought nearer to one another.

A further consequence will result in the greater abundance of the fruits of the earth. Men will always work harder and more readily when they work on that which belongs to them; nay, they learn to love the very soil that yields in response to the labour of their hands, not only food to eat, but an abundance of good things for themselves and those that are dear to them. That such a spirit of willing labour would add to the produce of the earth and to the wealth of the community is selfevident. And a third advantage would spring from this : men would cling to the country in which they were born ; for no one would exchange his country for a foreign land if his own afforded him the means of living a decent and happy life. These three important benefits, however, can be reckoned on only provided that a man’s means be not drained and exhausted by excessive taxation. The right to possess private property is derived from nature, not from man; and the State has the right to control its use in the interests of the public good alone, but by no means to absorb it altogether. The State would therefore be unjust and cruel if under the name of taxation it were to deprive the private owner of more than is fair.

[On the same subject taken from the Encyclical “ Quadragesimo Anno” by Pius XI, 15th May, 1931]

A SOCIAL AND PERSONAL ASPECT

THE OBVIOUS TRUTH is that in labour, especially hired labour, as in ownership, there is a social as well as a personal or individual aspect to be considered. For unless human society forms a truly social and organic body; unless labour be protected in the social and judicial order; unless the various forms of human endeavour, dependent one upon the other, are united in mutual harmony and mutual support; unless above all, brains, capital and labour combine together for common effort, man’s toil cannot produce due fruit. Hence if the social and individual character of labour be overlooked, it can be neither equitably appraised nor properly recompensed according to strict justice.

From this double aspect, growing out of the very notion of human labour, follow important conclusions for the regulation and fixing of wages.

THE FIRST CONSIDERATION

In the first place, the wage paid to the working man must be sufficient for the support of himself and of his family. It is right indeed that the rest of the family contribute according to their power towards the common maintenance, as in the rural home or in the families of many artisans and small shopkeepers. But it is wrong to abuse the tender years of children or the weakness of woman. Mothers will above all devote their work to the home and the things connected with it. Intolerable and to be opposed with all our strength, is the abuse whereby mothers of families, because of the insufficiency of the father’s salary are forced to engage in gainful occupations outside the domestic walls, to the neglect of their own proper cares and duties, particularly the education of their children.

Every effort must therefore be made that fathers of families receive a wage sufficient to meet adequately ordinary domestic needs. If in the present state of society this is not always feasible, social justice demands that reforms be introduced without delay which will guarantee every adult workingman just such a wage. In this connection We might utter a word of praise for various systems devised and attempted in practice, by which an increased wage is paid in view of increased family burdens, and a special provision is made for special needs.

THE CONDITION OF THE BUSINESS

The condition of any particular business and of its owner must also come into question in settling the scale of wages; for it is unjust to demand wages so high that an employer cannot pay them without ruin, and without consequent distress amongst the working people themselves. If the business make smaller profit on account of bad management, want of enterprise, or out-of-date methods, this is not a just reason for reducing the workingmen’s wages. If, however, the business does not make enough money to pay the workman a just wage, either because it is overwhelmed with unjust burdens, or because it is compelled to sell its products at an unjustly low price, those who thus injure it are guilty of grievous wrong; for it is they who deprive the workingmen of the just wage, and force them to accept lower terms.

Let employers, therefore, and employed join in their plans and efforts to overcome all difficulties and obstacles, and let them be aided in this wholesome endeavour by the wise measures of the public authority. In the last extreme, counsel must be taken whether the business can continue, or whether some other provision should be made for the workers. The guiding spirit in this crucial decision should be one of mutual understanding and Christian harmony between employers and workers.

THE WAGE-SCALE

Finally, the wage-scale must be regulated with a view to the economic welfare of the whole people. We have already shown how conducive it is to the common good that wage-earners of all kinds be enabled by economizing that portion of their wage which remains after necessary expenses have been met, to attain to the possession of a certain modest fortune. Another point, however, of no less importance must not be overlooked, in these our days especially, namely that opportunities for work be provided for those willing and able to work. This depends in large measure upon the scale of wages, which multiplies opportunities for work as long as it remains within proper limits and reduces them if allowed to pass these limits. All are aware that a scale of wages too low, no, less than a scale excessively high, causes unemployment. Now, unemployment, particularly if widespread and of long duration, as We have been forced to experience it during Our Pontificate is a dreadful scourge; it causes misery and temptation to the labourer, ruins the prosperity of nations, and endangers public order, peace and tranquillity the world over. To lower or raise wages unduly, with a view to private profit, and with no consideration for the common good, is contrary to social justice which demands that by union of effort and good will such a scale of wages be set up, if possible, as to offer to the greatest number opportunities of employment and of securing for themselves suitable means of livelihood.

AN HARMONIOUS PROPORTION

A reasonable relationship between different wages here enters into consideration. Intimately connected with this is a reasonable relationship between the prices obtained for the products of the various economic groups: agrarian, industrial, etc. Where this harmonious proportion is kept, man’s various economic activities combine and unite into one single organism and become members of a common body, lending each other mutual help and service. For then only will the economic and social organism be soundly established and attain its end, when it secures for all and each those goods which the wealth and resources of nature, technical achievement, and the social organization of economic affairs can give. These goods should be sufficient to supply all needs and an honest livelihood, and to uplift men to that higher level of prosperity and culture which, provided it be used with prudence, is not only no hindrance but is of singular help to virtue.

ON THE UNJUST CLAIMS OF CAPITAL AND OF LABOUR AND THE PRINCIPLE OF JUST DISTRIBUTION [FROM THE ENCYCLICAL “ QUADRAGESIMO ANNO” OF PIUS XI, 15TH MAY, 1931]

RIGHT ORDER

Now THE NATURAL LAW, or rather, God’s will manifested by it, demands that right order be observed in the application of natural resources to human needs ; and this order consists in everything having its proper owner. Hence it follows that unless a man apply his labour to his own property, an alliance must be formed between his toil and his neighbour’s property for each is helpless without the other. This was what Leo XIII had in mind when he wrote: “Capital cannot do without Labour, nor Labour without Capital.” It is therefore entirely false to ascribe the results of their combined efforts to either party alone and it is flagrantly unjust that either should deny the efficacy of the other and seize all the profits.

EXCESSIVE ADVANTAGES

Capital, however, was long able to appropriate to itself excessive advantages; it claimed all the products and profits, and left to the labourer the barest minimum necessary to repair his strength and to ensure the continuation of his class. For by an inexorable economic law it was held, all accumulation of riches must fall to the share of the wealthy, while the workingman must remain perpetually in indigence or reduced to the minimum needed for existence. It is true that the actual state of things was not always and everywhere as deplorable as the liberalistic tenets of the so-called Manchester school might lead us to conclude; but it cannot be denied that a steady drift of economic and social tendencies was in this direction. These false opinions and specious axioms were vehemently attacked, as was to be expected, and by others also than merely those whom such principles deprived of their innate right to better their condition.

THE FALSE MORAL PRINCIPLE

The cause of the harrassed workingman was espoused by the “intellectuals,” as they are called, who set up in opposition to this fictitious law another equally false moral principle: that all products and profits, excepting those required to repair and replace invested capital, belong by every right to the workingman. This error, more subtle than that of the Socialists, who hold that all means of production should be transferred to the State (or as they term it, socialized), is for that reason more dangerous and apt to deceive the unwary. It is an alluring poison consumed with avidity by many not deceived by open Socialism.

To prevent erroneous doctrines of this kind from blocking the path of justice and peace, the advocates of these opinions should have harkened to the wise words of Our Predecessor: “The earth, even though apportioned amongst private owners, ceases not thereby to minister to the needs of all.” This teaching We Ourselves have re-affirmed above, when We wrote that the division of goods, which is effected by private owner-ship, is ordained by nature itself, and has for its purpose that created things may minister to man’s needs in an orderly and stable fashion. These principles must be constantly borne in mind, if we would not wander from the path of truth.

THE COMMON GOOD OF ALL

Now, not every kind of distribution of wealth and property amongst men is such that it can at all, and still less can adequately, attain the end intended by God. Wealth, therefore, which is constantly being augmented by social and economic progress must be so distributed amongst the various individuals and classes of society, that the common good of all, of which Leo XIII spoke, be thereby promoted. In other words, the good of the whole community must be safeguarded. By these principles of social justice, one class is forbidden to exclude the other from a share in the profits. This sacred law is violated by an irresponsible wealthy class who, in the excess of their good fortune, deem it a just state of things that they should receive everything and the labourer nothing; it is violated also by a propertyless wage-earning class who demand for themselves all the fruits of production. as being the work of their hands. Such men, vehemently incensed against the violation of justice by capitalists, go too far in vindicating the one right of which they are conscious; they attack and seek to abolish all forms of ownership and all profits not obtained by labour, whatever be their nature or significance in human society, for the sole reason that they are not acquired by toil. In this connection it must be noted that the appeal made by some to the words of the Apostle: “If any man will not work, neither let him eat,” (2 Thess. iii. to) is as inept as it is unfounded. The Apostle is here passing judgment on those who refuse to work though they could and ought to do so; he admonishes us to use diligently our time and our powers of body and mind, and not to become burdensome to others as long as we are able to provide for ourselves. In no sense does he teach that labour is the sole title which gives a right to a living or to profits.

Each class then must receive its due share, and the distribution of created goods must be brought into conformity with the demands of the common good and social justice. For every sincere observer is conscious that the vast differences between the few who hold excessive wealth and the many who live in destitution constitute a grave evil in modern society.

Nihil Obstat:

Carolus Doyle, S.J. Censor Theol. Dep.

Imprimi Potest:

@ Eduardus,

Archiep. Dublinen., Hiberniae Primas. 3/12/1933

********

Rosary Talks With Mary

RT. REV MGR. MCMAHON M.A., PH.D.

INDEX

The Church, in her official prayer, the Collect of the Mass of the Most Holy Rosary, teaches us that it is by meditating on the Joyful, Sorrowful, and Glorious Mysteries of the Rosary that we may hope to imitate the virtues of our Blessed Lord and His Blessed Mother. The Rosary presents to us a summary of Our Lord’s Life on earth, of His Passion and Death, and of the triumphs which followed His Resurrection. In its three divisions, Joyful, Sorrowful, and Glorious, we have a Synopsis of the liturgical year which is a devout study of our Saviour’s Life.

Men today have forgotten how to pray because there is no thought behind their words. Vocal prayers do not sink in unless the heart is touched and the spirit aroused. Today, as in the time of Our Lord’s sojourn on this earth, the words of Isaias are true: “This people honoureth Me with their lips, but their heart is far from Me. And in vain do they worship Me, teaching doctrine and commandments of men.”

CARDINAL GILROY ON MEDITATION

Addressing youth during the Centenary Celebrations in Perth, Western Australia, in May, 1946, Cardinal Gilroy,

Archbishop of Sydney, advocated the Rosary as a splendid training ground for meditation.

“There is no better training in concentration than the making of a daily meditation. The ability to concentrate is a most valuable asset in anyone’s mental equipment.”

“There is one invaluable form of meditation within easy reach of us all. It is the contemplation of the Mysteries of the Rosary. This exercise of piety I cordially and earnestly recommend to each and every one of you. It is not something novel or untried. Rather it is venerable and of proved efficacy. The exercise in times of peace of noble souls, and of those who wish to be noble, it has been in war a favourite exercise of heroes.

“You are familiar with the praises of the Rosary uttered with incomparable gracefulness by Australia’s priest-poet,

John O”Brien. He portrays the recitation of the Rosary in the lovely setting of the unspoilt, natural family circle. In war-time there have been descriptions in poem and in prose of valiant youths and men engaged in perilous undertakings on land, at sea, and in the air, and again in foul prison camps, recommending themselves, their companions, and their cause to God through the intercession of the Blessed Virgin Mary by the recitation of the

Rosary. In your daily Rosary-and we should be well advised to say the Rosary every day-be sure to ponder over the

Mysteries in the Life of your Divine Master and His Blessed Mother. You will, as a consequence of doing that, be encouraged to strive, in spite of all difficulties, to imitate what their Mysteries contain and obtain what they promise.”

THE HAPPY UNION OF MENTAL AND VOCAL PRAYER

The slow recitation of the prayers joined with the meditations on the Mysteries of our Redemption, make the Rosary one of the sure ways to holiness of life. Saying the one hundred and fifty “Aves” and “Paters” without medi- tating on the Mysteries is a tiresome task. But once throw upon the vocal prayers the light of the Mysteries and monotony and dullness vanish.

Again, since the depth of each Mystery is infinite, so no two of our Rosaries need be alike, but may carry us further and further into the meaning of these sacred scenes, adding fruit upon fruit of pious affections and resolve, building up our lives in the spirit and practice of Christianity, and upholding to us more and more of the beauties of our Holy Faith.

Five Mysteries each day, or even one Mystery devoutly and reverently meditated on and woven into the eloquence of the beads, will bear fruit in our lives.

The Rosary alone, said as Mary taught St. Dominic to say it, is a pledge of salvation. We have in our hands an overwhelming and invincible power, when in union with Catholics the world over, and kneeling before Jesus, the Fruit of Mary’s womb, we unite our minds in contemplating these Mysteries and our voices in praying our “Paters” and “Aves.” Truly is the Rosary, like its glorious Queen, “terrible as an army set in battle array!”

The following outlines of meditations should be read frequently to prompt our imaginations to paint the scenes and to rouse our hearts to generous response. The notes provide different ideas for a varied recitation of the Rosary. It does not matter if we interchange them in one Rosary. No, all that is hoped for in these outlines is that they will help us to say our beads meditatively.

Aids to meditation on the Rosary are grouped under five headings, namely:

1. Chat with Mary.

2. Select a virtue in the Mystery.

3. Concentrate on the “Our Father,” and the “Hail Mary.”

4. Addressing Mary in the “Hail Mary.”

5. A progress through each decade.

I. CHAT WITH MARY

Father Patrick Peyton, the 6ft.4in. Irish ex-miner who has set out to bring the Family Rosary into the homes of American Catholics with the help of Hollywood, looks like a mischievous, overgrown altar boy. Yet a few years ago, while he was studying for the priesthood, he became tubercular.

He was in an advanced condition; coughing blood. Since it was impossible to collapse the lung, it was decided to remove part of his ribs.

An old priest visited him in hospital. “Why don’t you ask Our Lady to cure you?” he suggested.

“I have,” said Father Peyton, “and I think this operation is her way of doing it.”

“Nonsense,” said the old priest. “She can do better than breaking your back to cure you. She’s a woman, and she likes to be talked to. Talk to her, man; talk to her!”

Father Peyton talked to her that night, with the result that there was no operation, and now in gratitude to Mary he is devoting his life to the Family Rosary.

Here is a pleasant way to meditate upon the Mysteries of the Rosary. It will mean a much slower saying of the beads, with many a pause to chat with her about the mystery in an artless, childlike way, and then, go on. It is far better to recite one or two decades a day and three on Saturdays, in this way, than to say five decades mechanically or too fast.

To stop every now and then to chat with Mary about the mystery contemplated is to share her innermost thoughts. It will help to increase our love for Mary if we meet her often for a chat within the Rosary. Through that intimate chat we share her feelings and know her thoughts and imagine ourselves kneeling at her side as we ask her to pray for us now and at the hour of our death.

TAKE MARY TO OUR OWN

“When Jesus therefore had seen His mother and the disciple standing, whom He loved, He saith to His mother: “Woman, behold thy son. After that, He saith to the disciple: Behold thy mother. And from that hour the disciple took her to his own.” (St. John xix, 26–27.)

Like St. John we take Mary to our own through thinking with her in our hearts as she lived through the joyful, the glorious, and the sorrowful stages of her life.

This thinking in the heart is open to all, even to little children. It does not depend upon intelligence or a trained mind.

St. Luke records the sequel to the finding of the Boy Jesus in the temple: “And seeing Him, they wondered. And His mother said to Him: “Son, why hast Thou done so to us? Behold Thy father and I have sought Thee sorrowing.’ And He said to them: ‘How is it that you sought Me? Did you not know that I must be about My Father’s business?” And they understood not the word that He spoke unto them.”

“And He went down with them and came to Nazareth: and was subject to them. And His mother kept all these words in her heart.” (St; Luke 11; 48–51.)

Chatting with Mary while saying her Rosary will open up her heart to us and we shall share, in a little way; her thoughts. She who lived the mysteries with her Divine Son will teach us, gradually and slowly, to do as she did and keep all these words in our hearts;

II. SELECT A VIRTUE IN THE MYSTERY

Each mystery contemplated in the Rosary presents many virtues to us for our imitation. Selecting a virtue for each mystery will vary the motives for saying the Rosary and save it from monotony and sameness. To single out one of Mary’s virtues and contrast our weakness with her strength will convince us that we must build that virtue from within. In that uphill pull against our frail human nature, meditation upon Mary’s virtues will bolster up our sagging spirit.

The natural virtues of Mary will beckon us onwards, for example, her prudence at the Annunciation, her fraternal charity during the Visitation, her mother’s love at the Nativity, her confidence at the Presentation, and the lesson of obedience at the Finding of the Child Jesus. Whenever we find a human motive, a natural aid to support us in our striving after holiness, let us seize upon it, and build upon it. Mary’s example will give us courage to increase our meagre stocks of the natural virtues of patience and prudence of fraternal charity and generosity, and of obedience and self-discipline.

The Rosary recited with mind and heart concentrated upon one of Mary’s virtues coul d not be wearisome and dull, as it too often is. No, it would be all too short. Meditation on Mary’s virtues will work its salutary effects upon our lives. Through the consideration of Mary’s part in the Life of Our Blessed Lord, the Great Exemplar according to which we are bidden to fashion our own, we are naturally led to a more perfect imitation of Him. Just as the sculptor takes a mass of roughly-hewn stone and with untiring labour chisels it and fashions it, until by dint of skilful workmanship the shapeless block is clothed with beautiful forms and reflects the artist’s thought, so by frequent and devout study of our Saviour’s life-a study eminently afforded by the Rosary- ought we to strive to reproduce in our own life something of the virtue that shone out so resplendently in His.

III. CONCENTRATE ON THE “OUR FATHER” AND “HAIL MARY.” Before the coming of Our Lord, young and old recited the one hundred and fifty psalms of David as a prayer. Many of the psalms were committed to memory and said frequently throughout the day. The more the people meditated upon the psalms the better they prayed and the richer were the spiritual rains.

The one hundred and fifty psalms divided into fifties, continued a favourite form of devotion among the Christians of the early Church. Gradually the humble folk, the people whose days were occupied in physical labour, found little time to study the psalms and began to substitute for them the repetition of fifty, a hundred or a hundred and fifty salutations to Our Lady, leaving the psalms to clerics, religious, and learned groups. The 150 salutations to Mary correspond to the 150 psalms of David which sang the praises of God and besought Him for mercy and grace.

As with the psalms the more we meditate upon the words we say the more effect they will have upon our spiritual health. The repetition of the Angelical salutation is always pleasing to Our Lady. The Lord’s Prayer is the prayer taught us by Our Lord Himself, and cannot be said often enough. So the very words we use in the Rosary have a virtue of their own and will merit much for us. The following notes on the “Hail Mary” and the “Our Father” supply food for meditation.

THE ORIGIN OF THE HAIL MARY

St. Luk e tells us the origin of the “Hail Mary” in words that glow with the devotion of a loving son. Raphael, in his picture of St. Luke painting the Virgin and Child, portrays in the face of the artist a deep love of the Virgin.

St. Luke writes: “And in the sixth month, the Angel Gabriel was sent from God into a city of Galilee, called Nazareth,

“To a virgin espoused to a man whose name was Joseph, of the house of David; and the virgin’s name was Mary.

“And the Angel being come in, said unto her: Hail full of grace, the Lord is with thee: Blessed are thou among women.

“Who having heard, was troubled at his saying, and thought with herself what manner of salutation this should be.

“And the Angel said to her: Fear not, Mary, for thou hast found grace with God.

“Behold thou shalt conceive in thy womb, and shall bring forth a son; and thou shall call His name Jesus.

“He shall be great, and shall be called the Son of the Most High, and the Lord God shall give unto Him the throne of David his father; and he shall reign in the house of Jacob for ever,

“And of His kingdom there shall be no end.”

“And Mary said to the Angel: How shall this be done, because I know not man?

“And the Angel answering, said to her: The Holy Ghost shall come upon thee, and the power of the Most High shall overshadow thee. And therefore also the Holy which shall be born of thee shall be called the Son of God.

“And behold thy cousin Elizabeth, she also hath conceived a son in her old age; and this is the sixth month with her that is called barren; because no word shall be impossible with God.

“And Mary said: Behold the handmaid of the Lord, be it done to me according to thy word. And the Angel departed from her.

“And Mary, rising up in these days, went into the hill country with haste into a city of Juda.

“And she entered into the house of Zachary, and saluted Elizabeth.

“And it came to pass; that when Elizabeth heard the salutation of Mary, the infant leaped in her womb. And Elizabeth was filled with the Holy Ghost: And she cried out with a loud voice, and said: Blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb.” (St. Luke I, 26.42.)

“Hail, full of grace.”

We salute Mary with: “Hail, full of grace.” Not without good reason did the angel omit her name, “Mary,” saying instead, “Full of grace.” He wished thereby to intimate that the title, “Full of grace” is more proper for her than her name, and due far more to her than the title “wise” was due to Solomon, “obedient” to Isaac, and “strong” to Samson.

“The Lord is with thee.”

God is indeed everywhere, but He is in one way with men and in another with irrational and inanimate beings; one way with the good, and another with the bad. He is with irrational beings without their knowledge, and with rational beings who know and acknowledge Him; but, above all, He is with the good who know and love Him. He is with the Blessed Virgin in a special manner; He is one with her not only in the will but also in the flesh. “The Lord is with thee;” this is a prerogative that raises her above the angels.

“Blessed art thou among women.”

She “conceived,” but “without sin”; she brought forth “without pain” and “without knowing man”; to her great glory she is the “Mother of Him Whose Father is God”; she, the creature, became the “Mother of the Creator”; she became a Mother, without ceasing to be a “Virgin.” Had not the angel reason to say: “Blessed art thou among women?” Can we therefore honour the Blessed Virgin more than by praising her with the angelic salutation:

“Blessed art thou among women?”

“The Hail Mary,” writes St. Grignion de Montfort, “is a heavenly dew which waters the soul, and renders it fruitful in all virtues; a soul not watered by this prayer, brings forth no fruit, nothing but briars and thorns.

The Hail Mary is the sanctification of the soul, the joy of the Angels, the song of the predestined, the canticle of the New Testament, the pleasure of Mary, the glory of the most Holy Trinity. The Hail Mary is a loving kiss we give to Mary; it is a brilliant rose we present to her; a special pearl we offer to her; a cup of ambrosia and divine nectar.”

THE ORIGIN OF THE PATER NOSTER

St. Matthew records that Christ taught the “Pater Noster” to His disciples at the sermon on the mount, near the Sea of Galilee (St. Matthew vi, 9–18). St. Luke puts the origin much later, during the December before His death, and probably at the Feast of the Dedication of the Temple at Jerusalem. Our Lord had spent the whole night in. prayer on the Mount of Olives. The Apostles wished to pray as He did, and they approached Him, saying: “Lord, teach us to pray.” (St. Luke xi, 1–4.) On the Mount of Olives the Pater Noster Church has been erected to commemorate this scene.

One may readily believe that Our Lord had said this prayer at His Mother’s knee in Nazaret h, so promptly did the words pour from His lips when asked by the disciples to teach them to pray. From that day on the Mount of Olives He and His disciples said the “Pater Noster” frequently. They surely said it together in the Upper Room at the Last Supper. It was said by St. Peter in prison and by St. Paul on his journeys.

With what fervour Our Blessed Lady must have prayed it with St. John in their home at Ephesus! The music of its words filled the winding tunnels of the catacombs at Rome. It was on the lips of the martyrs in the arenas. From apostolic times to our own its petitions to Heaven have arisen from our altars “from the rising of the sun even to the going down.” The greatest minds of the Church, such as St. Thomas Aquinas and St. Augustine, have found the Pater Noster an unending subject for meditation, while little children can say it lovingly.

THE FAMILY PRAYER

The Pater Noster, the family prayer of the Church, has an arc like the rainbow, which springs up from the earth, touches the clouds, and then sweeps down to earth. We lift our hearts to God in its mounting petitions: “Hallowed be Thy Name: Thy Kingdom come,” until we reach the apex of the arc in: “Thy Will be done on earth as it is in Heaven.” Downwards sweeps the curve with its recital of our needs from “Give us this day our daily bread” to “Deliver us from evil.”

Christ’s own prayer has the double action of praise and petition. To give is higher than to receive, and so the first part of the “Pater Noster” is more important than the second. It is the model prayer. All our needs and all our desires are summed up in it, and seen in the light of eternity. The best place and time to say it is during the Mass, when it comes after the Canon. With his hands outstretched and his eyes on the consecrated Host the priest calls upon Christ to represent us in Heaven in the sevenfold petitions of His own prayer.

“Let us pray: urged on by saving precept and following Thy divine in stitution, we dare to say: Our Father Who art in Heaven. . . .” Outside the Holy Mass the “Pater Noster” is best said within the Rosary of Mary. Let us ask Him Who bade us say it to inspire us with its meaning

COINED IN HEAVEN

The Rosary teaches us to say the great universal prayer to God the Father entwined with the angelic salutation to Mary. We speak to Our Father and salute Mary as she goes step by step with her Divine Son, in turn, joyful at His coming, sorrowful in His sufferings and death, and glorious in His Resurrection and Ascension. Within the three divisions of the Rosary we say these, our greatest prayers, in a background of joy, sorrow, and triumph.

The words of the “Hail Mary” and of the Lord’s Prayer were coine d in Heaven. Part at least of these prayers, we may feel sure, are said by the angels and saints in Heaven, and the repetition of them during the Rosary is excellent practice for our future home.

IV. ADDRESSING MARY IN THE “HAIL MARY”

Address Mary withthe words: “Hail Mary,” thinking how they apply to her in the special circumstances of each Mystery. Mary is always “full of grace,” always “blessed,” because the Lord is always with her. Yet, the Lord is with her in a different way in the stable of Bethlehem, on the Hill of Calvary, and at the throne of the Father in Heaven. She is “with the Lord,” with the Fruit of her womb, Jesus, but her being with Jesus in the home of Nazareth is a very different thing from her being with Jesus dying on the Cross.

Fr om Mary’s union with Jesus comes all her greatness. This way of saying the Rosary is to tell our Mother that we greet her as full of God’s grace, blessed, because she is with Jesus as no other human being can ever be; in His joy, in His sorrow, and in His triumph. Let us see briefly the different shades of meaning we can put into the words of the “Hail Mary” in each of the five Joyful Mysteries.

THE ANNUNCIATION

In the first mystery, the Annunciation, we remember at once that we are addressing to Mary the very words that the Archangel addressed to her at the Annunciation. He said to her: “Hail, full of grace, the Lord is with thee, blessed art thou among women.” (Luke 1, 28.) We say the same to her, thinking that she is indeed “full of grace” at this moment. Conceived immaculate, she has corresponded so well with the graces God has given her that now God’s messenger thus addresses her. We tell her she is “blessed among women,” because at this moment, when the Word is made flesh within her womb, “the Lord is with her” in a way He has never been with any other; blessed amongst women because the Son thus conceived in her womb is the Son of God. .

THE VISITATION

At the Visitation, too, we are using the actual words spoken to Mary by St. Elizabeth: “Blessed art thou among women and blessed is the fruit of thy womb.” (Luke 1, 42.) When we say “the Lord is with thee” during this mystery we remember how truly He was with her then, bringing grace and sanctification to St. John the Baptist even before his entry into the world. As we repeat “Blessed art thou” we are actually fulfilling, even now, the prophecy that Mary made at the Visitation: “Behold all generations shall call me blessed.” (Luke 1, 48.)

THE NATIVITY

During the recitation of the third Mystery, the Nativity, we can have before our minds that first Christmas night and the wonderful application of the words must strike us at once. “The Lord is with thee”; yes, indeed, with thee now as with no other creature, with thee in the most intimate union of mother and newborn Babe. “Blessed art thou among women”; more blessed in thy poverty than the richest mother in the land, more blessed than any other woman ever was or ever will be, because this thy Child, the fruit of thy womb, is blessed, none other than God Himself.

THE PRESENTATION

The fourth Joyful Mystery, the Presentation, shows us Mary in the Temple offering the fruit of her womb to the Eternal Father. That offering in her case meant far more than it did for any other Jewish mother. Their offerings were symbolical, hers was real. True, she gave in the Temple only the gift of the poor, whilst many of the others gave the gift prescribed for the rich. Yet, who shall say that theirs was an offering equal to hers? She gave to Almighty God His Son and hers.

THE FINDING IN THE TEMPLE

The final mystery of this decade, the Finding of the Child Jesus in the Temple, gives us two aspects of the truth of the words we say in our prayer.

Mary is blessed when she finds her Child, because once more, “the Lord is with her.” After the desolation of those days of fruitless search, what a joy, what a relief it must have been when she was with Him once more! God had done such wonderful things for her: the miraculous conception, the Virgin motherhood, the possession of God as her own Son; how she must have wondered when so soon afterwards He disappeared from her. How comforted she must have been when she had Him with her again and when “He went down with them and came to Nazareth and was subject to them.” (Luke 2, 51.)

These last words open out a vista of thought for the Fifth Mystery. Whilst we say the “Hail Mary” let us tell the Divine Mother that we know how “full of grace” she must have been during those happy years in Nazareth, when the “Lord was with her” night and day. He learned at her knee, He obeyed her voice, He was her dutiful Son, and yet all the time she knew that He was her God. “Blessed art thou among women” because the fruit of thy womb-thy Son- is blessed above all others, Jesus, thy God.”

Whilst we say the second part of the “Hail Mary” in these joyful mysteries we will ask Holy Mary, Mother of God to pray for us, that we may be full of God’s grace and that the Lord may be with us. Pray for us, Mother of God, now, that in all the joys and sorrows of life “the Lord may be with us”; pray for us at the hour of our death, that we may be blessed for all eternity, with the “Blessed fruit of thy womb, Jesus.”

V. A PROGRESS THROUGH EACH DECADE

Another way to vary the accompaniment of the sweet melody of “Hail Marys” and “Our Fathers” is to plan a progress through each decade combining the ideas already elaborated. Begin each decade by concentrating on the words used in the Our Father. When we come to the petition: “Give us this day our daily bread,” let us ask Him to open the eyes of our souls to the mystery contemplated in this decade. Long ago in the inn at Emmaus He opened the eyes of the two disciples when He took bread and blessedand broke and gave to them and thus they knew Him. “Give us this day our daily bread” will be a request to Him to open to us the mystery that is proposed for this decade.

The first “Hail Mary” will be a salutation to Our Lady, saying the words with which Gabriel addressed her at the Annunciation, and trying to capture the devotion and warmth which St. Luke puts into those words.

During the recital of the next six “Hail Marys” we shall draw upon all that we have learned at school, or read and heard since, to help us to paint a word picture of the mystery.

The last three “Hail Marys” will uncover our hearts to Mary’s whisperings. We shall try to get inside our Mother Mary’s heart during this mystery, and catch some of its fire and heat to warm our own towards her. Some day we shall feel our hearts burning within us and on that blessed occasion we shall understand what that humble French priest, St. Grignion de Montfort, wrote some two hundred years ago-namely, that “being a servant of Mary is good, but to be her slave is better. The servant is worthy of his hire but the slave is not. As Mary’s slave we wish to be absorbed completely in Mary’s personality, to work in and through and by her for Mary’s cause, the salvation of souls. That ideal of complete slavery is the keynote of the Legion of Mary Apostolate. In the words of dedication the Legionaries proclaim: I am thine, my Queen, my Mother, and all that I have is thine.”

Mary’s part in this mystery will shine upon us like a star beckoning us to follow her according to our own small measure. The virtue that attracts us to Mary in this mystery is something we must strive to build within ourselves. There is the example for us to follow, there is Mary awaiting to help us, provided we set ourselves to the task. God cannot build His Kingdom in man’s soul without man’s help and earnestness. And Mary whispers to us to begin upon that virtue we need so badly, for she is ever ready with her encouragement and her help.

No matter how gloomy the picture of a soul presents itself to any man, if he begins with confidence in Mary’s prayers and his own efforts he can change vice into virtue, and sin into sanctity. The virtue of self-discipline, of selfdenial so distasteful to the human spirit and so onerous on human nature, yet, so necessary in life and a sine-qua-non condition for sonship of God, will be won by us gradually and painfully but certainly, through listening to Mary’s whisperings to us while saying the last three “Hail Marys” of each decade.

“The Glory be to the Father and to the Son and to the Holy Ghost” which concludes the decade will be addressed to the Holy Spirit through the Blessed Trinity for light to see and courage to assume the task of building from within ourselves the virtues that shine from Mary in this mystery.

Nihil Obstat:

D. P. MURPHY, Censor Deputatus. lmprimatur:

@ DANIEL MANNIX,

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis.

********

Saint Anthony And You

JUNIPER CUMMINGS, O.F.M., CONV

INDEX

PRAYER GETS RESULTS

We are notoriously a practical people. The antics and marriages of royalty do interest us, but our main interest is not so much who does what but what he or she does. What can it produce? What do we get out of it? It might be true that other people are interested in the “who” of a person or thing, but basically we are pragmatic, utilitarian.

This drive to see results, to count productions, carries over into our spiritual life, and we are not too wrong. After all, Christ Himself said, “By their fruits you shall know them.” The deserved popularity of St. Anthony might be, in part, clue to his effects. Americans are Anthonian, devotees of St. Anthony, because he does answer prayers. There is an aspect of the practicality of devotion to St. Anthony that we should not neglect. Neglect it we dare not, because it would he such a waste, a potential unrealized.

St. Anthony is a mirror. These words are in his Litany. When we approach St. Anthony to ask for something, we should get a good look at him. He is a mirror because we go up to him and his reflection on us reassures us that our prayers will be heard. For God he did much extremely well. God just doesn’t refuse to answer any prayer that has the stamp, the image of the Saint of Padua. St. Anthony makes up for many of our blemishes and his heavenly handsomeness supplies for our worldly ugliness. He is called a mirror because he intercedes for us even if we are not the beauties we should be.

God has gentle ways and effective means of drawing us to Himself. All creatures participate in His goodness. The saints share in His love to a greater degree, and through them, He draws us to an even greater love of Himself. In this way also, devotion to St. Anthony is eminently practical. We approach the great saint and, facing him, we begin to show forth his virtues. We become more like him; we get better. Through our devotion to St. Anthony we learn about him, and what we learn is good; but the good by the very nature of things attracts us. We are attracted to the good, and going to St. Anthony, the mirror, makes us become more attractive-more God-like.

MIRROR OF ABSTINENCE

The Litany calls St. Anthony a mirror in a particular way. “Mirror of Abstinence” is the title. Abstaining is a qual- ity of a God who is infinite, unlimited, yet practices limitation in His mercy and justice. The Infinite created the finite, according to various limited participations in His unlimited perfections. St. Anthony reflects this godly quality. He practiced that restraint which is abstinence-restraint even in legitimate pleasures. The abstinence involved in keeping of poverty, chastity, and obedience and the abstinence required for the tremendous work of preaching, teaching, and writing was Anthony’s abstinence.

If we go to the life of St. Anthony we find that he is an example of abstinence, that lends itself to imitation. Anthony is not noted for unusual or frightening penances and mortifications. He lived up to his way of life as a priest and friar. In living up to this way, he became a mirror of true and imitable abstinence.

St. Anthony, mirror of abstinence, will offer your prayers to God and God will hear you through him. That same Anthony by his life and work will show you how to live. To live as a married person should mean to abstain from many things, not only illegitimate pleasures; to live as a single person in the world calls for much abstinence, also. Priests and religious must, like St. Anthony, practice abstinence. St. Anthony, who always answers, shows us the way. Be practical, pray to St. Anthony and you will get what you need: the answer to your appeals and growth in goodness.

St. Anthony, Mirror of Abstinence, pray for us.

VESSEL OF PURITY

The Title, “Vessel of Purity” which is given to St. Anthony in his litany gives us a really concrete and correct idea of purity. Purity is something. It is not a mere negation; it is a positive quality. Purity is plenty, fullness, riches. Purity is good order, harmony, peace, and contentment because it is God-likeness, imitation of God. God alone is all-pure, because God is Perfection, Beauty, and Happiness.

A container can be empty, but if it is a vessel of something, the something is positive and not just an absence. St.

An thony is a vessel filled with godly purity. By his will he disposes himself, with God’s ever-loving help, to receive and hold and dispense this quality of good order, proper subordination, and wholesome harmony which is Godlikeness.

It is strange that when we speak of purity in relation to a person we usually refer to the sex life of that individual. There is something very revealing about our identification of purity and sex. We should know that a virgin can be pure or impure, that a married man can be pure or impure. What we really mean is that an individual is pure as long as he is not blemished by a misuse of sex.

There is, however, much more to purity than that. There is, for instance, purity of intention which has nothing to do with the sixth commandment as such. When a man is pure he does all things for God in a way God wants them done. His will is pure because he intends what God wills. There is no self-seeking and selfishness in him, there is that proper order and harmony in his actions and in his motives.

A man can pay a just wage, or go to Mass or even avoid adultery for a very wrong motive. Say a man were doing all this to establish a reputation so that he could at a later date perpetrate a fraud or murder someone. Such a man is not pure; he is lacking in that harmony, order, and right reason that is purity.

We cannot be unrealistic, though, about the prevalence of sins of sex. Our Lady at Fatima said that more people go to hell because of sins against the sixth and ninth commandments than for any other reason. St. Anthony wrote in his sermon for the fourth Sunday after Easter, The world is more stained with the sins of fornication than with any other sin.” There we have it: when we identify purity with the sixth and ninth commandments we are merely recognizing the sinning situation of the multitude.

St. Anthony was a member of the so-called passionate Latin race, yet he was a vessel of purity. His was the purity of harmony between his body and his soul, between his soul and God. He realized, practiced, and preached that principle of reason and nature confirmed by the commandments that sex is primarily for procreation in marriage, and only incidentally a source of pleasure.

He taught that a miser might abstain from sins of sex and still not be pure. He recalled that the Lord spoke of virgins who were foolish and did not make the grade.

Anthony was very forceful in his condemnation of any kind of impurity. And he is called Vessel of Purity because he charted the way to purity by his life and works. Our saint still aids by his prayers.

The saint gives practical norms for preserving or regaining purity. Mortification and the shunning of idleness are two measures advocated by St. Anthony. Then he gives us two other remedies and preventives. Meditation on the Passion of Christ is much stressed by the Paduan Preacher. This he succinctly states: “The memory of the Crucified crucifies vice.” Finally, the saint urges serious thought about the eternal life. Therefore the busy man who practices mortification, meditates on the Passion of Christ, and considers the life after death, will have this purity of intention and thought. Purity of word and action will be his. The disturbing increase in crime, private and public, can be checked if the remedies proposed by St. Anthony are used.

The Saint of Padua, who is a vessel of purity, will find purity for us and for our civilization if we pray to him, follow his advice, and imitate his example

St. Anthony, Vessel of Purity, pray for us!

MODEL OF OBEDIENCE

In all of creation there is subordination. It is the Creator Himself who, in His wisdom and goodness, designed this order.

Only those who are living according to God’s way are obedient. They are the saints. There is no saint, married or single, rich or poor, bishop or religious brother, who does not have the occasion and duty to obey. That is the way God planned it. All of this obedience and subordination in creatures, rational, animal, plant or mineral, is subjection to God.

Obedience to any superior is obedience to God. That is the secret, the mystery, the reality. When we observe the ten commandments it is not merely because Moses obeyed them. It is not due to the looks or personality of the lawgiver. We obey them because they came from God.

When we abstain from meat on Friday it is notbecause the Pope abstains; it is because we know God’s will through the Popes.

When we do our job at work it is not because of the boss or foreman; it is because we are following our conscience as directed by God.

The youngster who is forbidden to smoke by his father must obey even if his father is a chain smoker.

Too often obedience is not really obedience; it is a matter of imitation. Often it is a matter of friendship or affection for the individual who gives the direction. This may be well and good, but it is not obedience. It is subjection to another creature for the sake of the other creature, and not for God’s sake.

St. Anthony is a model of obedience because he obeyed God. He followed his superior’s directions because God spoke through them, and not because they were superior.

Anthony, as a Franciscan, was far more intelligent and holy than most of his superiors. Yet he obeyed. He obeyed the Pope. He obeyed the uneducated superior who told him to wash the dishes. And because he obeyed not for his own or his superior’s sake, but for God’s sake, he is the example of true obedience.

If we realize the nature of obedience, we can see how each of us has the duty of obeying. It would be more correct to say the privilege, the honour of obeying; because when we obey our parents, the policemen, doctors, or our pastors we are being directed by God. As long as one in authority gives directions which are not against God’s will, they are the directions of God. To be subject to God knowingly and willingly is a secure position, it is the fulfillment of our nature.

St. Anthony in his sermon for the second Sunday of Advent mentions five qualities that the real virtue of obedience has. Obedience is humble, devout, prompt, cheerful, and persevering.

Obedience is humble because it sees that God has subjected us to someone. Obedience is devout because it is an exercise of religion, for in obeying we render homage to God. Because commands come from God there will he no delay in executing them. Joyful and cheerful is obedience, because it is good for us to be what and how God has made us. Obedience is permanent because God does not change.

There is power in obedience. There is superiority in being subjected. Anthony shows us the way of obedience in his earthly life, and the effects of obedience in his heavenly life. He had tremendous power over creatures because he was completely subject to the Creator. The Paduan friar who obeyed inferior superiors soared to the heights of sanctity. From those exalted heights, he exercises his power for our benefit.

St. Anthony always answered God when God spoke through superiors. Now, God always says “yes” to Anthony when he asks something of Him for us.

St. Anthony, Model of Obedience, Pray for us!

STAR OF SANCTITY

Not everyone can be President. That is a fact, even if it might shatter the dreams, if not expectations, of many parents. We are made with different native abilities, then moulded and formed by our environment and education. The use we make of free choice of circumstances and opportunities is a great factor in shaping and equipping us for various work, offices, obligations as well as for dignities and honours.

In the natural, political, and social orders, this difference is a fact. Just as star differs from star and each has a different role in the universe, so it is with different human beings. Although in a particular work one might and does substitute for another, we are all different. One individual is able to do several particular works or even go from one field to another; but in the overall picture each man has a distinctive role. It is determined most certainly by man’s free will, but also by his natural talents and make-up, as well as by environment, training, and circumstances.

This natural order gives us a hint about the supernatural order. Grace does not destroy, but perfects nature. The Franciscan theologians teach that the natural was made for the supernatural order, because what is higher and greater is willed by God more than what is lower and less great. It is true to say that the inferior is intended, willed for the superior. Thus it was and is that all inferior creatures are to be subject to man. Add to this the truth that all of creation is an imitation of the Creator according to degrees; since God is infinitely perfect it is fitting that there he all degrees of participation in being. According to the natural and supernatural orders, this diversity is fitting. That is the way God planned it.

In our Litany we say: “St. Anthony, Star of Sanctity, pray for us.” We know that St. Anthony is not the only saint in heaven, not the only star in the glorious heaven of the blessed. We do know that he is a great, beautiful, powerful and attractive star that is our inspiration, consolation, help, and guide while we navigate the choppy seas of this life. Sanctity is soundness, safety, and sanity; and as we flounder about we need a steady, shining star-a star that is our ideal, our hero.

Not everyone can or should be able to be president: but everyone can, should and must be a saint. Here St. Anthony. the star of sanctity, shines through as the next invocation of the litany calls him, a “model of perfection.”

Not a minor factor in our wherewithal for sanctity is the shining example and powerful prayer of St. Anthony.

Star differs from star, saint differs from saint, but each is perfect. St. Anthony himself in two different sermons wrote of this difference and sameness in sanctity. The text “In My Father’s house there are many mansions” (John 14, 2) he explained with the example of the pomegranate which has many seeds under one skin, but each seed has its own cell. He goes on to say that there will be no sadness because of these differences and inequalities. “Everyone will be equally joyful about the differences in joy because I will rejoice over your goodness even as I rejoice about mine, and you will be as happy at my happiness as you are at your own. For example: if we were together and I had a rose of mine in my hand, you would enjoy its beauty and fragrance just as I would. So will it be in eternal life: my glory will refresh and exult you and vice versa.” So wrote St. Anthony.

You and I will never be St. Anthony, but if we follow his star and perfect ourselves according to his example, we will share one day in his glory and in the meantime reap the benefits of his power. While on the way to heaven we have his help. We rejoice in his good and in that of our earthly and heavenly neighbours. If we navigate by our Anthonian star and form ourselves after our model, there is no place for envy or hatred but just for the happiness that is sanctity and perfection.

St. Anthony, Star of Sanctity, pray for us!

ARK OF THE COVENANT

The Ark of the Covenant was the beautiful container in which the Jews placed the tablet of the law. In the centre of the camp, while they were in the desert, the Ark was respectfully and reverently kept. Once the temple was built, the Ark was placed in the Holy of Holies. God dwelt over the Ark in a very special manner, in that the Ark was the throne of God.

It was the Ark that reminded the Jews of their special relation to God. In a special way, God was with them; they were His chosen, favourite people.

Between God and the Jews there was a pact, an agreement which is called the Covenant. The Old Testament is the history of the past, and the New Testament is the record of the pact between God and the new chosen people, the Christians. This pact, this agreement, was, in effect, the will of God making us His heirs. It was the Ark in the Old Testament that symbolized this heritage.

St. Anthony is called “Ark of the Covenant” in his Litany because he is the precious and magnificent handwork of God. In him the law of God was contained, fulfilled perfectly. The ten commandments plus the evangelical counsels were his norm of action, his way of life. In the midst of the Church God placed Anthony, and he is now in the Holy of Holies of the celestial Jerusalem.

Of course God is everywhere, just as He was omnipresent in the time of the Old Testament, but He dwelt and operated in a special manner over the Ark. So, too, God, omnipresent, dwelt and dwells in great St. Anthony in a special manner. He works powerfully in and through him.

St. Anthony by his preaching and works is an assurance for us that we are chosen to be more than men because we are heirs of God. His children we are, and His kingdom we inherit.

All favours we ask of St. Anthony; and we can and should, and most of us do, ask all kinds. The most urgent, necessary favour is that we retain or regain the title to that inheritance which is called sanctifying grace. A favour it is, because no one deserves, no one earns it. It is grace; it is gratuitous; it is a gift from God.

If we pray to St. Anthony, the Ark of the Covenant, we can have confidence that God will harken to our prayers.

There is another lesson to learn from this invocation, “Ark of the Covenant.” We are now the chosen people; we have taken up where the mass of Jews left off. This very fact of our spiritual lineage should make us work and pray that the members of the race once chosen might find their place in the New Testament. There we have something else we should mention; Ark of the Covenant, pray for the conversion of the Jews.

The Ark of the Covenant has shown us how to keep the law, the whole law. Love of God and neighbour, that is the law. All men are neighbours, especially those that are bound to us by some ties. Close and real are the spiritual ties that bind us to the members of that race which God singled out to be the blood family of Jesus, Mary, and the Apostles.

St. Anthony, Ark of the Covenant, Keeper of the Law, Treasury of the Pact of our Inheritance, Sent of God, pray for us! Pray that we keep the pledge of sonship, sanctifying grace. Pray that all men, especially the Jews, be brought into the family of Christ.

TEACHER OF TRUTH

In these days of the accepted big lie and the habitual little lie, we need to learn from a teacher of truth. We need to be able to distinguish truth from falsehood when we hear it. We need to he able to speak the truth if we are going to speak at all.

St. Anthony was a popular preacher not because he told thousands who came to hear him what was nice for them to hear, but because he told them the truth. The truth he told them even when it was very difficult to understand and more difficult to live.

Of the profound mysteries like the Trinity, the Incarnation, the Eucharist, our teacher of the truth spoke. These revealed truths that excel all human capacities he presented in graphic forms with warm and intriguing figures of speech.

Of the “mystery of iniquity,” sin, our teacher of truth spoke. Against tyranny and abuses of civil power, the saint stood firm and preached eloquently. The vices of those in high places were attacked by the humble priest-friar.

The sins of malice and weakness that the ordinary common people committed were labelled by our saint for what they were: offences against God and degradations of man.

The secret sins of all were denounced by the holy preacher. St. Anthony pointed out that no sin was secret or private With fearlessness the saint taught the truth that God knows all and that as Christ said “Nothing is hidden that will not be made manifest.” Christ the kind and merciful man will be on the day of judgment the just and severe one.

Because we are all members of one race, one society, and really or potentially are all members of Christ’s Mystical Body, every sin offends the entirety of humanity, every sin harms society, every sin offends the entirety of humanity, every sin wounds the Mystical Body. This truth, unpleasant as it is to the sinner, this truth, startling in its consequences, the Paduan Preacher proclaimed.

St. Anthony is the teacher of truth because he taught Christ, who is the Truth. This is the central theme of Anthony’s words, work, and life.

The more we follow our St. Anthony, the closer to Christ the Truth we come. Then we will make the difficult distinction between truth and falsehood, between black and white.

The more we follow our saint the more we will choose the lighter greys among the partial truths or the relative betters.

The more we follow our saint, the more grace we will obtain to seek, follow, and tell the truth in our daily lives. The more we follow our saint, the more assurance we have that he will hear our prayers.

The truth of St. Anthony is Christ. Pray to St. Anthony that like him, you can learn Christ.

To learn Christ is a big job. It is such an enormous task that it takes an eternity. If one does not start now, or if one gives up, one is doomed to the unending confusion and frustration of the error; with Satan, the father of lies, one is condemned to hell.

St. Anthony, Teacher of Truth, pray for us that we may overcome Satan by the truth that you taught. Pray, St. Anthony, that we may ever strive to reach and hold the Truth who is Christ!

PHYSICIAN OF SOULS

It is extremely easy and common to see and point out faults. This is especially true if it is a matter of the faults and vices, real or imagined, of others. It is hard and extraordinary to see consistently in others virtue and good qualities. Stop and think about yourself as you are, as you really are, and more often than not, you will find that the things that most annoy, disgust, and bother you in others are qualities which you yourself have.

It is very easy to tear down, and very hard to build up. It is much harder to aid constructively than to censure severly. The blockers of good are more prevalent than those who make ready and open the way to good.

The great St. Anthony was a Franciscan, and Franciscans have always been for more than they are against. The Litany of St. Anthony immediately after calling on the sainted Friar as an exterminator of vices, adds “Planter of Virtue.”

With human beings there is no vacuum. Christ, Anthony’s model and mover, says, “You are either for me or against me.” Thus, it was to that Anthony not only rooted out vices, but he also planted virtues.

Against sin in general and its horrible consequences, Anthony was most eloquent. Against pride, anger, avarice, impurity, vainglory, envy, and gluttony our saint was ruthless. In rooting them out he was zealous, but was even more assiduous in planting Faith, Hope, Charity, Justice, Temperance, Fortitude, and Prudence.

Great preacher and sound doctor of theology that he was, wise St. Anthony insisted over and over again that the sacrament of penance not only roots out vices, but is the effective means of instilling virtues. St. Anthony insisted on the sacrament of penance as a sure way of progress in virtue.

For a good confession, one must have sorrow for sins, and this sorrow St. Anthony referred to as a stream of fire which destroys vice and causes virtue to flourish. The purpose of amendment is the assurance that the seeds of virtue will grow to strong plants, that the faint light will become bright and strong. Contrition and satisfaction make the terrain rich and productive; they keep out the vices by cultivating the fields well.

Confession must be complete by considering and mentioning circumstances which alter the nature of the sin. For this reason a positive directive of St. Anthony is the consideration of who, what, where, with whom, how often, why, and when. These points are to be considered not only because they can alter the gravity of the sin, but because they are important in the development of the opposite virtue.

Impurity committed by a married man is to be overcome differently from the method used by a single boy. The sin against the fifth commandment is remedied differently if it be one of thought than if it be by word, and still more differently if it be by deed. If a sinful action is rare or frequent, the treatment for it is diversified; hence the number, or at least an estimate of the number, is to be given.

The “why” of the sin is of tremendous importance in its avoidance. The most effective remedy is to remove the cause of evil and supplant it with a cause that is productive of good.

In confession the most important things are to be confessed first. All mortal sins must be mentioned as far as they are remembered, because these are the things that need most to be supplanted by virtues. If one has no mortal sins, then the venial sins that keep us most from God, for which we have contrition and amendment are to be mentioned, so that the virtues which they block may wax strong.

St. Anthony, phenomenal preacher, sublime saint and compassionate confessor, taught that the sacrament of penance well used was the most effective way to grow in virtue.

Virtues he planted by his preaching. The planting to be assuredly fruitful, was to be planted in the grace of the sacrament of penance.

To receive the sacrament worthily was an exercise of the fundamental virtues of humility, religion, and devotion. It roots out the faults and plants virtues.

Pray to St. Anthony that he will aid you and all his friends to make a good confession. Pray that you will follow his advice in having real sorrow for sin, true determination not to sin. Pray that you will recognize clearly, and confess properly, the circumstances of your sins. Pray to St. Anthony that you will make satisfaction for past sins.

Pray and your prayers will be answered by Anthony. Then you will grow in virtue. You will see your own weakness and appreciate the good in others.

St. Anthony, Physician of Souls, pray for us!

GUIDE OF THE ERRING

None of us would be a good risk for a supernatural insurance company. We are all accident-prone when it comes to the life and well-being of the soul. Going astray, erring, comes easy to us.

Mortal sin is the big mistake in human living; and a life of sin is the real tragedy. Each mortal sin is a turning from the path of happiness. Each mortal sin is an action in discord with our nature as rational, social, and created.

One mortal sin is a terrible, horrible, ugly, stupid, mistake. There is only one thing worse than a mortal sin and that is two or more mortal sins. In such habitual sin, we not only skip off the path of perfection but we deliberately travel a miserable road to eternal frustration.

Sometimes, and we hope for the friends of St. Anthony this is most of the time, we don’t entirely abandon the road to heaven for mortal sin; but we zigzag, or run with one foot off the road, or dance precariously along the edge looking to the side or behind us. This is erring, too, but in a venial way only.

St. Anthony by his life and teaching and prayers is a guide along the way to real fulfillment and happiness. St. Anthony was and is the guide, conductor, the regulator of the erring. He brings us back when we are lost in a sinful state of habitual mortal sin. He retrieves us also when we have jumped from the road by a single mortal sin.

Anthony, Guide of the Erring, saw the way to heaven not so much as straight and narrow, but as a wonderful glorious road because Christ the GodMan said, “I am the Way.” Difficult, yes, but delightful! Straight, yes; but safe, sound, and sane. Narrow, but comfortable with the expanding joy of being a rational, social, and great creature of the loving Creator.

There are all kinds of mistakes and errors. They all entail turning your back to Christ. But to make them more apparent each of us should ask himself, “What do I want most in life? In going along the path of life, what signs do I follow?” The advertisers of our nation are great psychologists when it comes to observing what makes people desire products. They appeal through blunt or subtle sensuality, and to worldly success. They use false signs and values.

St. Anthony knew that there would be such signs and values, and he warned against them. For he knew that if man followed them he would lose his way along the road or at least run onto the soft shoulder of the road.

What are your values, your standards? What do you want most for yourself and your children?

Some time ago a Catholic youngster wrote to “Cordette” (A literary magazine for young teenagers published by the Conventual Franciscans.), “What right have you to criticize rock singers? I bet that they have more money than you have. You are just jealous because the girls like them better than they doyou.” This young person is no doubt a good Catholic, and we mean in no way to insinuate that she is sinful. She is just a young spokesman of our age who needs the guiding of St. Anthony’s teaching to be properly oriented.

If we are in the state of grace we are on the right road; yet we may be pretty far off centre. If we adults are unbalancing our civilization in favour of sensuality and materialism, it will be the youngsters who will fall off first.

It maybe shocking to see our youth going wild, but if we look honestly at the overtones and undertones of our adult standards we shouldn’t be surprised. If we follow the wrong signs, how can we expect our youth not to?

We need the adult Christianity of St. Anthony’s preaching and examples. Pray to the Guide of the Erring. He will help all of us, young and old.

St. Anthony, Guide of the Erring, pray for our family, our nation, our civilization. Pray for us!

PREACHER OF GRACE

The Wonder-worker of Padua is called Preacher of Grace in his Litany. First, he taught and preached about grace. Grace is the gift of God which makes us partakers in the Divine Life. This participation in God’s life is supernatural; it is above our power, and it is given to us freely. Grace, then, is a gift.

St. Anthony taught the truth that we need this help superadded to God’s natural help to obtain the state of grace and to remain in that supernatural condition.

God helps us in many supernatural ways, and this help is grace. St. Anthony in his sound, healthy, mature approach uses a figure to illustrate this. Like a mother who weans her children by putting something bitter on her breast, so the Holy Spirit gives us sometimes a taste of the bitterness of this world so that we can acquire a taste for the solid food of the other world.

It is grace which enables us to live on earth but act and think as citizens of heaven; but we have to cooperate, do our part, use our will to keep this precious gift.

Precious gift that grace is, we need it to have not only eternal happiness but any measure of true happiness here on earth. St. Anthony says: The man in mortal sin is nothing because God, Who alone truly is, is not in him through grace.”

Anthony, a great theologian and truly human as he was, understands that man could and does lose grace through mortal sin. Mortal sin is the greatest and only true tragedy that can befall man. The supreme stupidity of sin is only topped by the useless, wasteful evil of remaining in sin once a person has fallen.

St. Anthony pleaded, insisted, urged, and demanded that the sacrament of penance he used frequently to revive the life of grace. Pointing out how dreadful it was to live in sin, he also noted that there is waste involved. Everyone does good things, but they are of no supernatural value if the doer is not in the state of grace. The Christian in the state of sin can bear no fruit, since he doesn’t have the necessary equipment.

Grace is a free gift of God which must be cooperated with, and it is the most important thing in this life. It is to be prayed for and guarded, regained immediately, if lost. This is the truth about grace taught by St. Anthony, the preacher of grace.

The great Franciscan saint of Padua is Preacher of Grace in another way. Not only did he preach about it, but his preaching was grace for many in his own day and innumerable souls down through the ages. By means of the words of St. Anthony, God moved many to regain the state of grace. He was and is able to rouse the hearts of many of his hearers because his well-chosen human words were backed by the Divine Power.

So great was Anthony’s grace that God continuously pleases to give His wondrous gift of supernatural life to others through and because of St. Anthony.

Grace is most assuredly something personal, given to individuals. Grace is, however, something social, because a man is a child of God and grows more and more like God. He participates by God’s free condescension in the power of God. The Christian in the state of grace can and does produce supernatural fruit, not only for himself but for others.

St. Anthony is able and willing to help us and all who need help. (Who doesn’t?) We need but to listen to his help. He will help us and ours.

St. Anthony, Preacher of Grace, pray for us. We ask you for graces for ourselves and for our dear ones.

This little booklet is to help you pray. There are nine thought primers for a Novena to St. Anthony. Use them for a springboard to reflection and resolution, then ask for what you need and want. Among your wants we hope you will include us.

Nihil Obstat:

Bernard Marthaler, O.F.M. Conv.

Imprimi Potest:

Basil Heiser, O.F.M. Conv., Provincial

Imprimatur:

@ Rt. Rev. George Casey

Administrator, Archdiocese of Chicago

August 8, 1958

********

Saint Augustine, Bishop of Hippo

DOCTOR OF THE CHURCH

REV. FR. ALBAN BUTLER

INDEX

O great is the veneration which popes, councils, and the whole Church have paid to the memory of this glorious saint through every succeeding age since his time that Pope Leo X ordered that his feast should be observed with the same honours as that of an Apostle, and he is recognized as a model of true penitents, a triumphant champion of the Faith, the equal of any philosopher, and the first of theologians, supreme Doctor of Grace. He was born on 13th November, in the year 354, at Tagaste, a small town of Numidia in north Africa, not far from Hippo, but at some distance from the sea, which he had never seen till he was grown up. His parents were of good position, but not rich; his father, Patricius, was an idolater, and of a violent disposition; but by the example and prudent conduct of St Monica, his wife, he at length learned the humility and meekness of the Christian religion, and was baptized a little before his death in 371. She bore him several children; St Augustine speaks of his brother Navigius, who left a family behind him, and of a sister who died an abbess. At the wish of his mother and with the consent of his father he was entered in his infancy among the catechumens, Baptism itself being deferred, according to a common custom of the time; but in early youth he fell into grave sin and until the age of thirty-two led a life morally defiled by licence and intellectually by Manichaeism. Of this time, up to his conversion and the death of St Monica, he speaks at large in his Confessions, a book written for “a people curious to know the lives of others, but careless to amend their own”; written not indeed to satisfy such curiosity, but to show forth to his fellows the mercy of God and His ways as exemplified in the life of one sinner, and to endeavour that no one should think of him above that which he confessed himself to be. He therefore divulged all the sins of his youth in the nine first books and, in the tenth, published the many imperfections to which he was still subject, humbly begging the intercession of all Christians on his behalf. Sending this book to Count Darius, he tells him that, “The caresses of this world are more dangerous than its persecutions. See what I am from this book: believe me who bear testimony of myself, and regard not what others say of me. Praise with me the goodness of God for the great mercy He hath shown in me, and pray for me that He will be pleased to finish what He hath begun in me, and that He never suffer me to destroy myself.” By the care of his mother he was instructed in the Christian religion, and taught to pray. He was made a catechumen, by being marked with the sign of the cross and blessed salt being put in his mouth; and whilst still a child, falling dangerously ill, he desired Baptism and his mother got everything ready for it; but he suddenly grew better, and it was put off. This custom of deferring Baptism for fear of sinning under the obligations of that sacrament, St Augustine very properly condemns; but the want of a sense of its sanctity and the sacrileges of Christians in defiling it, by relapsing into sin, is an abuse which no less calls for our tears. The church has long since forbidden the baptism of infants ever to be deferred but it is one of the principal duties of pastors to instruct the faithful in the obligations which the sacrament lays them under, and to teach them to value and to preserve the grace which they received by it.

“And so I was put to school to learn those things in which, poor boy, I knew no profit, and yet if I was negligent in learning I was whipped: for this method was approved of by my elders, and many that had trod that life before us had chalked out unto us these wearisome ways. . . .”Augustine thanks God that, though the persons who pressed him to learn bad no other end in view than “ penurious riches” and “ignominious glory,” yet divine Providence made a good use of their error, and forced him to learn for his great profit and manifold advantage. He accuses himself of often studying only by constraint, disobeying his parents and masters, not writing, reading, or minding his lessons so much as was required of him; and this he did, not for want of wit or memory, but out of love of play. But he prayed to God with great earnestness that he might escape punishment at school, for which dread he was laughed at by his masters and parents. Nevertheless,” we were punished for play by them that were doing no better; but the boys” play of them that are grown up is named business. . . . . . . Who is he that, weighing things well, will justify my being beaten when I was a boy for playing at ball, because by that play I was hindered from learning so quickly those arts with which, when grown up, I should play far worse?” “No one does well what he does against his will,” he says, and takes notice that the master who corrected him for a small fault “if overcome in some petty dispute by a fellow-teacher, was more envious and angry than the boy ever was when outdone by a playfellow at ball.” He liked Latin very well, having learned that language from his nurses,and others with whom he conversed; but not the Latin “which the first masters teach; rather that which is taught by those who are called grammarians.” Whilst he was little he hated Greek, and, for want of understanding it sufficiently, Homer was disagreeable to him; but the Latin poets became his early delight.

Augustine went to school first in his own town; then at Madaura, a neighbouring city, where he studied grammar, poetry, and rhetoric. When he was sixteen years old his father made him return to Tagaste, and kept him a whole year at home. During this time the young man fell into bad company, and gave himself up to games and diversions. His passions grew unruly and were indulged, but his father took no care of his growing up in virtue, provided he was eloquent. His mother indeed implored him to keep himself free from vice; “which,” says he, “seemed to me but the admonitions of a woman, which I was ashamed to obey; whereas they were Thy admonitions, O God, and I knew it not. By her Thou didst speak to me, and I despised Thee in her.”

He went to Carthage towards the end of the year 370 , in the beginning of his seventeenth year. There he took the foremost place in the school of rhetoric and applied himself to his studies with eagerness and pleasure; but his motives were vanity and ambition, and to them he joined loose living, though Vincent the Rogatist, his enemy, acknowledges that he always loved decency and good manners even in his irregularities. Soon he entered into relations with a woman, irregular but stable, to whom he remained faithful until he sent her from him at Milan in 385; she bore him a son, Adeodatus, in 372. His father, Patricius, died in 371; but Augustine still continued at Carthage and, by reading the Ilortensius of Cicero, his mind was turned from rhetoric to philosophy. He at length grew weary of the books of the heathen philosophers because Christ was not mentioned in them, whose name he had sucked in, as it were, with his mother’s milk, and retained in his heart. He undertook therefore to read the Holy Scriptures; but he was offended with the simplicity of the style, and could not relish their humility or penetrate their spirit. Then it was that he fell into the error of the Manichees, that infirmity of noble mind troubled by the” problem of evil,” which seeks to solve the problem by teaching a metaphysical and religious dualism, according to which there are two eternal first principles, God, the cause of all good, and matter, the cause of all evil. The darkening of the understanding and clumsiness in the use of the faculties which wait on evil-living helped to betray him into this company, which he kept till his twentyeighth year; and pride did the rest. “ I sought with pride,” he says, “what only humility could make me find. Fool that I was, I left the nest, imagining myself able to fly; and I fell to the ground.” His vanity was flattered by the Manichees, who claimed to try everything by the test of bare reason, and scoffed at all those who paid deference to the authority of the Catholic Church, as if they shackled reason and walked in bonds. It was by this familiar trick that he was seduced and caught in the nets of the Manichees, who promised to show him everything by demonstration, and calling faith weakness, credulity, and ignorance. “They said that, setting aside imperious authority, they would lead men to God and free them from all error by reason alone.” Writing afterwards to a friend, he said, “You know, my dear Honoratus, that upon no other ground we adhered to these men. What else made me, rejecting for almost nine years together the religion which was instilled into me in my childhood, a follower and diligent hearer of these men, but their saying that we are overawed by superstition, and that faith is imposed on us without reason being given: whereas they tie none to believe, except upon the truth being first examined and cleared up? Who would not have been inveigled by such promises? Especially a young man desirous of truth and, by reputation among learned men in the schools, already proud and talkative. They derided the simplicity of the Catholic faith, which commanded men to believe before they were taught by evident reason what was truth.” St Augustine frequently teaches, in his other works, that this is the general method of false teachers and a usual cause of wreck of faith.

For nine years Augustine had his own schools of rhetoric and grammar at Tagaste and Carthage, while his devoted mother, spurred on by the assurance of a holy bishop that “the son of so many tears could not perish,” never ceased by prayer and gentle persuasion to try to bring him to conversion and reform. After meeting the leading Manichaean teacher, Faustus, he began to be disillusioned about that sect, and in 383 departed to Rome, secretly, lest his mother should prevent him. After a serious illness he opened a school of rhetoric there, but finding the scholars were accustomed frequently to change their masters in order to cheat them of their salary for teaching, he grew weary of the place; and it happening that orders were sent from Milan to Symmachus, prefect of Rome, requiring him to send thither some able master of rhetoric, Augustine applied for the post; and, having given Symmachus proofs of his capacity, was chosen by him and sent. At Milan he was well received and the bishop, St Ambrose, gave him marks of his respect. Augustine was very desirous of knowing him, not as a teacher of the truth, but as a person of great learning and reputation. He often went to his sermons, not so much with any expectation of profiting by them as to gratify his curiosity and to enjoy the eloquence; but he found the discourses more learned than those of the heretic Faustus and they began to make impression on his heart and mind; at the same time he read Plato and Plotinus: “Plato gave me knowledge of the true God, Jesus Christ showed me the way.” St Monica, having followed him to Milan, wished to see him married, and the mother of Adeodatus returned to Africa, leaving the boy behind; but neither marriage nor single continence followed. And so the struggle, spiritual, moral, intellectual, went on. He found the writings of the Platonic philosophers bred pride in his soul, making him have a mind to seem wise and leaving him full of his punishment, instead of teaching him to bewail his own misery. Finding nothing in them about the mystery of man’s redemption or Christ’s incarnation, he with great eagerness betook himself to read the New Testament, especially the writings of St Paul, in which he then began to take great delight. Here he found the testimonies of the Old Testament illustrated, the glory of Heaven displayed, and the way clearly pointed out which leads thither; here he learned that which he had long felt, that he had a law in his members warring against the law in his mind, and that nothing could deliver him from this body of death but the grace of Jesus Christ. He perceived an infinite difference between the doctrine of him who styled himself the last of the apostles, and that of those proud philosophers who esteemed themselves the greatest of men. Augustine himself was now convinced of the truth and excellence of that virtue which the divine law prescribes in the Catholic Church, but was haunted with an apprehension of insuperable difficulties in its practice, that kept him from resolutely entering upon it. And so, by listening to St Ambrose and reading the Bible he was convinced of the truth of Christianity, but there was still wanting the will to accept the grace of God. He says of himself: “I sighed and longed to be delivered, but was kept fast bound, not with exterior chains but with my own iron will. The Enemy held my will, and of it he had made a chain with which he had fettered rue fast; for from a perverse will was created wicked desire or lust, and the serving this lust produced custom, and custom not resisted produced a kind of necessity, with which as with links fastened one to another, I was kept close shackled in this cruel slavery. I had no excuse as I pretended formerly when I delayed to serve Thee, because I had not yet certainly discovered Thy truth: now I knew it, yet I was still fettered. . . . I had nothing now to reply to Thee when Thou saidst to me, “Rise, thou that sleepest, and rise up from the dead, and Christ shall enlighten thee.” . . . I had nothing, I say, at all to reply, being now convinced by Thy faith, except lazy and drowsy words, “Presently, by and by, let me alone a little while longer”; but this “presently” did not presently come; these delays had no bounds, and this “little while “ stretched out to a long time.” He had been greatly impressed by hearing the conversion of the Roman neoPlatonist professor, Victorinus, related by St Simplician, and soon after Pontitian, an African who had employment in the Emperor’s court, came one day to pay a visit to Augustine and his friend Alipius. Finding a book of St Paul’s epistles lying on the table, he took occasion to speak of the life of St Antony, and was surprised to find that his name was unknown to them. They were astonished to hear of miracles so well attested done so lately in the Catholic Church, and did not know before Pontitian mentioned it that there was a monastery full of fervent religious outside the walls of the very city in which they lived, under the care of St Ambrose. Pontitian then went on to speak of two gentlemen who had been suddenly turned to the service of God by reading a life of St Antony. His words had a powerful influence on the mind of Augustine, and he saw, as it were in a glass, his own filthiness and deformity. In his former half desires of conversion he had been accustomed to beg of God the grace of continence, but was at the same time in some measure afraid of being heard too soon. “In the first dawning of my youth,” says he, “I had begged of Thee chastity, but by halves, miserable wretch that I am; and I said,” Give me chastity, but not yet awhile” for I was afraid lest Thou shouldst hear me too soon, and heal me of the disease which I rather wished to have satisfied than extinguished.” He was ashamed and grieved to find his will had been so weak, and directly Pontitian had gone he turned to Alipius with these words: “What are we doing to let the unlearned start up and seize Heaven by force, whilst we with all our knowledge remain behind, cowardly and heartless, wallowing in our sins? Because they have outstripped us and gone on before, are we ashamed to follow them? Is it not more shameful not even to follow them?” He got up and went into the garden. Alipius, astonished at his manner and emotion, followed, and they sat down as far as they could from the house, Augustine undergoing a violent inward conflict. He was torn between the voice of the Holy Ghost calling him to chastity and the seductive memory of his former sins, and going alone further into the garden he threw himself to the ground below a figtree, crying out, “How long, O Lord? Wilt Thou be angry for ever? Remember not my past iniquities!” And seeing himself still held back, he reproached himself, miserably: “How long? How long? To-morrow, tomorrow? Why not now? Why does not this hour put an end to my filthiness?” As he spoke these things and wept with bitter contrition of heart, on a sudden he heard as it were the voice of a child singing from a neighbouring house, which frequently repeated these words, Tolle lege! Tolle lege!”Take up and read! Take up and read!” And he began to consider whether in any game children were wont to sing any such words; and he could not call to mind that he had ever heard them. Whereupon he rose up, suppressing his tears, and interpreted the voice to be a divine admonition, remembering that St Antony was converted from the world by hearing a particular passage of the gospel read. He returned to where Alipius was sitting with the book of St Paul’s epistles, opened it, and read in silence the words on which he first cast his eyes:

“Not in rioting and drunkenness; not in chambering and impurities; not in contention and envy; but put ye on the Lord Jesus Christ, and make not provision for the flesh in its concupiscences.” All the darkness of his former hesitation was gone. He shut the book, and with a serene countenance told Alipius what had passed. Alipius asked to see the passage he had read, and found the next words to be: “Him that is weak in faith, take unto you ; which he applied to himself, and joined his friend in his resolution. They immediately went in, and told their good news to St Monica, who rejoiced and praised God, “who is able to do all things more abundantly than we desire or understand.” This was in September 386, and Augustine was thirty-two.

He at once gave up his school and retired to a country house at Cassiciacum, near Milan, which his friend Verecundus lent to him; he was accompanied by his mother St Monica, his brother Navigius, his son Adeodatus, St Alipius, two cousins, and several other friends, and they lived a community life together under the direction of St Monica. Augustine wholly employed himself in prayer and study, and his study was a kind of prayer by the devotion of his mind therein. Here he sought by austere penance, by the strictest watchfulness over his heart and senses, and by humble prayer, to control his passions, and to prepare himself for the grace of leading a new life in Christ and becoming in Him a new creature. “Too late,” he prayed, “have I loved thee, O Beauty so ancient and so new, too late have I loved thee I Thou wast with me, and I was not with thee; I was abroad, running after those beauties which thou hast made; those things which could have no being but in thee kept rue far from thee. Thou hast called, thou hast cried out, and hast pierced my deafness. Thou hast enlightened, thou hast shone forth, and my blindness is dispelled. I have tasted thee, and am hungry for thee. Thou hast touched me, and I am afire withthe desire of thy embraces.” From the conferences and conversations which took place during these seven months St Augustine drew up his three dialogues, Against the Academicians, Of the Happy Life, and Of Order. Among the bad habits he had contracted was that of swearing. Later, urging others to refrain from it, he set before them how he had overcome that habit. “We also were formerly given to that low and vicious custom: we once swore; but from the time that we began to serve God, and understood the evil of that sin, we were seized with great fear, and by fear we restrained it. You say you do it by habit; but above all things watch over yourselves that you may never swear. A more inveterate habit requires the greater attention. The tongue is a slippery member, and is easily moved. Be then the more watchful to curb it. If you refrain to-day, you will find it more easy to refrain to-morrow. I speak from experience. If your victory be not complete tomorrow, it will at least be more easy by the victory of the day before. The mischief dies in three days. And we shall rejoice in our advantage and in our deliverance from such an evil.” In another sermon he says, “I know it is difficult to break your habit; it is what I found myself; but by fearing God we broke our Custom of swearing. When I read His law I was struck with fear; I strove against my habit, I invoked God my helper, and He helped me. Now nothing is more easy to me than not to swear.” During the early days of his conversion, God as he tells us, “ by His grace brought down the pride of his spirit, and laid low the lofty mountains of his vain thoughts, by bringing him daily to a greater sense of that misery and bondage from which he was delivered.”

He was baptized by St Ambrose on Easter-eve in 387, together with Alipius and his dearly loved son Adeodatus, who was about fifteen years of age and was to die not long afterwards. He was still at Milan when the relics of SS. Gervase and Protase were discovered, and was witness to certain miracles that were wrought on persons touching them, but in the autumn he resolved to return to Africa. Accordingly he went on to Ostia with his mother and several friends, and there St Monica died in November 387. To her life and last days Augustine devotes six moving chapters of his Confessions. He returned for a short while to Rome, refuting Manichaeism there, and went on to Africa in September 388, where he hastened with his friends to his house at Tagaste. There he lived almost three years, disengaged from all temporal concerns, serving God in fasting, prayer, good works, meditating upon His law and instructing others by his discourses and books. All things were in common and were distributed according to everyone’s needs; St Augustine himself reserved nothing which he could call his own, having alienated the very house in which they lived. He had no idea of becoming a priest, but had good reason to fear that attempts would be made to make him a bishop. He therefore carefully avoided going to any cities in which the sees were vacant, for fear of being chosen; but in 391, having occasion to go to Hippo, there being then a bishop there, be went thither. Valerius, bishop of the city, had mentioned to his people the necessity of ordaining a priest for the service of his church, and so, when St Augustine came into the church, they presented him to Valerius, desiring with great earnestness that he might be forthwith ordained priest. St Augustine burst into tears, considering the great dangers that threatened him in that charge, but was obliged in the end to acquiesce, and was ordained. By this time he was a new man, even more conspicuous for his piety than for his great learning, and he now employed his friends to beg of Valerius some respite, in order to prepare himself in solitude for the exercise of his office. He made the same request himself, by a letter which tacitly condemns the presumption of those who without a holy fear and true vocation intrude themselves into the ministry. Valerius seems to have granted him this respite till the following Easter, for his first sermons coincide with that time. Augustine removed to Hippo and in a house adjoining the church established a sort of monastery, modelled on his household at Tagaste, living there with St Alipius, St Evodius, St Possidius, and others “according to the rule of the holy Apostles.” Valerius, who was a Greek, and had, moreover, an impediment in speaking, appointed him to preach to the people in his own presence, as was customary for bishops to do in the East, but till that time was unusual in the West; more unusual still, he was given permission to preach “on his own” knowing that the instruction of the flock was a principal duty of the pastoral charge, he from that time never interrupted the course of his sermons till his death. We have nearly four hundred extant, though many were not written by him but taken down by others as he delivered them. During these early days he vigorously opposed the Manichaeans and the beginnings of Donatism, as well as effected such domestic reforms as the abolition of feasting in the chapels of the martyrs (a debased survival of the primitive lovefeast) and of family fights as a public amusement: “I used appeal and persuasion to the utmost of my ability to extirpate such a cruel custom from their minds and manners. I thought I had done nothing while I only heard their acclamations and raised their delight and admiration. They were not persuaded so long as they could amuse themselves with giving applause to the discourse which they heard. But their tears gave me some hope, and showed that their minds were changed. When I saw them weep, I believed this horrible custom would be abolished. It is now eight years ago and upwards and, by the grace of God, they have been restrained from attempting any such practice.” In the sermons which fill the fifth volume of his works this father inculcates assiduous meditation on the last things; for “if the Lord’s day (or last judgement) may be at some distance, is your day (or death) far off?” He enforces the necessity of doing penance; “For sin must be punished either by the penitent sinner or by God, his judge; and God, who has promised pardon to the penitent sinner, has nowhere promised him who delays his conversion a to-morrow to do penance in.” He frequently speaks of alms-deeds, and claims that the neglect of them is the cause of the loss of the greatest number that perish, seeing Christ mentions only this crime in the sentence both of the elect and the reprobate at the last day. He often mentions Purgatory, and recommends prayer and the Sacrifice for the repose of the faithful departed. He speaks of holy images and of the respect due to the sign of the cross. He relates miracles wrought by it, and by the relics of martyrs. He often speaks of the honour due to the martyrs, as in most of his sixty-nine sermons On the Saints, but he remarks that we build altars and offer sacrifice to God alone, not to any martyrs. He addresses himself to St Cyprian and others to implore their intercession. All the martyrs,” he says, “that are with Christ inter- cede for us. Their prayers never cease, so long as we continue our sighs.” St Augustine preached always in Latin, though among the peasants of the country in certain parts of his diocese some understood only the Punic tongue, and these he found it difficult to furnish with priests.

In 395 he was consecrated bishop as coadjutor to Valerius, and succeeded him in the see of Hippo on his death soon after. He established regular and common life in his episcopal residence, and required all the priests, deacons, and subdeacons that lived with him to renounce property and to embrace the rule he established there; nor did he admit any to holy orders who did not bind themselves to the same manner of life. His biographer, St Possidius, tells us that the clothes and furniture were modest but decent, and not slovenly. No silver was used in his house, except spoons; dishes were of earthenware, wood, or stone. He exercised hospitality, but his table was frugal; nor was wine wanting, but the quantity was regulated, which no guest was ever allowed to exceed. At meals he preferred reading or literary conferences to secular conversation. All his clerks who lived with him ate at the same table and were clothed out of the common stock. Thus, in the words of Pope Paschal II, “The regular mode of life recognized in the early Church as instituted by the Apostles was earnestly adopted by the blessed Augustine, who provided it with new regulations.” He also founded a community of religious women among whom, on the death of his sister, the first abbess, there was a dispute about the succession; in dealing with this he addressed to them a letter on the general ascetic principles of the religious life. This letter, together with two sermons on the subject, constitutes the so-called rule of St Augustine, which is the basis of the constitutions of many canons regular, friars, and nuns. St Augustine committed to overseers among his clergy the entire care of his temporalities, and took their accounts at the end of the year, and he entrusted to the management of others the building of the hospitals and churches which he erected. He never would receive for the poor any estate or present when the donation seemed a prejudice to an heir. He employed the revenues of his church in relieving the poor, as he had before given his own patrimony, and Possidius says that he sometimes melted down part of the sacred vessels to redeem captives: in which he was authorized by the example of St Ambrose. In several of his letters and sermons mention is made of the custom he had got his flock to establish, of clothing all the poor of each parish once a year, and he was not afraid sometimes to contract considerable debts to help the distressed. Nor did his zeal and charity for the spiritual welfare of others have bounds. “I do not wish to be saved without you,” said he to his people, like another Moses or St Paul. “ “What shall I desire? What shall I say? Why am I a bishop? Why am I in the world? Only to live in Jesus Christ: but to live in Him with you. This is my passion, my honour, my glory, my joy, and my riches.”

There were few men endowed by nature with a more affectionate and friendly soul than St Augustine; but his tender and benevolent disposition was heightened by the supernatural motive and powerful influence of charity and religion, of which his letters and the history of his life furnish many examples. He conversed freely with infidels, and often invited them to his table; but generally refused to eat with Christians whose conduct was publicly scandalous and disorderly, and was severe in subjecting them to canonical penance and to the censures of the Church. He never lacked courage to oppose iniquity without respect of persons, though he never forgot the rules of charity, meekness, and good manners. He complains that some sins were by custom become so common that, though he condemned them, he dare not oppose them too violently for fear of doing much harm and no good should he attempt to extirpate them by excommunication; yet he trembled lest he should be guilty of remissness. He scarcely ever made any visits other than to orphans, widows, the sick, and other distressed persons, and he observed the three rules of St Ambrose: never to make matches for any persons, lest they should prove unhappy; never to persuade any to be soldiers; and never to dine out in his own city, lest invitations should become frequent and he should be drawn into intemperance and much loss of precious time. The letters of great men are generally interesting both for illustrating their history and throwing light on their minds. Those of St Augustine are particularly so. Several are so many excellent and learned treatises, and contain admirable instructions. In his fifty-fourth to Januarius he says that they do well who communicate daily, provided it be done worthily and with the humility of Zaccheus when he received Christ under his roof; but that they are also to be commended who sometimes imitate the humble centurion and set apart only Sundays and Saturdays or other days for communicating, in order to do it with greater devotion. He explains the duties of a wife towards her husband in his letter to Ecdicia, telling her that she ought not to wear black clothes, seeing this gave him offence, and she might be humble in mind in rich and gay dress if he should insist upon her wearing such. He tells her she ought, in all things reasonable, to agree with her husband as to the manner of educating their son, and leave to him the chief care of it. He severely chides her for having given goods and money to the poor without his tacit consent, and obliges her to ask his pardon for it, whether his unwillingness to allow her extraordinary charities proceeded from a prudent care to provide for their son, or from an imperfect motive. In like manner did he impress upon husbands the respect, tender affection, and consideration which they owe to their wives. There is a good example of St Augustine’s modesty and humility in his discussion with St Jerome over the interpretation of a text of Galatians. Owing to the miscarriage of a letter Jerome, not an easily patient man, deemed himself publicly attacked. Augustine wrote to him: “I entreat you again and again to correct me confidently when you perceive me to stand in need of it; for though the office of a bishop be greater than that of a priest, yet in many things Augustine is inferior to Jerome.” He grieved at the violence with which the controversy between St Jerome and Rufinus was carried on, and wrote concerning it: “Could I meet you both together in any place I would fall down at your feet, I would weep as long as I were able, I would beseech as much as I love you, sometimes each for himself, then each one for the other, and for many others, especially the weak for whom Christdied.” He always feared the deceit of vain-glory in such disputes, in which men love an opinion, as he says, “Not because it is true, but because it is their own, and they dispute, not for the truth, but for the victory.”

Throughout his thirty-five years as bishop of Hippo St Augustine had to defend the Catholic faith against one heresy or another. First it was Manichaeism, in which the most spectacular event was the public conference in 404 with one of their leaders, Felix. He was not so learned as Fortunatus, whom St Augustine had formerly confuted, but he had more cunning; nevertheless he closed the discussion by publicly professing the Catholic faith, and anathematizing Manes and his blasphemies. The heresy of the Priscillianists was akin to some of the Manichaean principles, and at that time infected several parts of Spain. Paul Orosius, a Spanish priest, made a voyage into Africa in 415 to see St Augustine, and gave occasion to the saint’s work Against the Priscillianists and Origenists, in which he condemns the errors of those who taught the human soul to be of a divine nature, and sent into the body in punishment of former transgressions. The Jews he confuted by a treatise in which he shows the Mosaic law was to have an end, and to be changed into the new law. The neighbouring city of Madaura was full of idolaters. Their good will he gained by rendering them important public service and doing them good offices. Their grateful feelings towards him he improved to their advantage, and induced them to embrace the faith of Christ. When Rome was plundered by Alaric the Goth in 410 the Pagans renewed their blasphemies against the Christian religion, to which they imputed the calamities of the Empire. To answer their slanders, St Augustine began his great work Of the City of God in 413, though he only finished it in 426. More serious trouble was given by the Donatists, whose chief errors were that the Catholic Church by holding communion with sinners had ceased to be the Church of Christ, this being confined within the limits of their sect, and that no sacraments can be validly conferred by those that are not in the true Church. These Donatists were exceedingly numerous in Africa, and reckoned five hundred bishops. At Hippo the number of Catholics was very small, and the Donatists had such sway there that, a little before St Augustine came thither, Faustinus their bishop had forbidden any bread to be baked in that city for the use of Catholics and was obeyed, even by servants who lived in Catholic families. Indeed, the majority of Christians in Africa were at that time infected with the errors of the Donatists, and they carried their fury to the greatest excesses, murdering many Catholics and committing all sorts of violence. By the learning and indefatigable zeal of St Augustine, supported by the sanctity of his life, the Catholics began to gain ground; at which the Donatists were so exasperated that some preached publicly that to kill him would be doing the greatest service to their religion, and highly meritorious before God. Augustine was obliged in 405 to invoke the civil power to restrain the Donatists about Hippo from the outrages which they perpetrated there, and in the same year the Emperor Honorius published severe laws against them. Augustine at first disapproved such measures, though he afterwards changed his opinion, except that he would not countenance a deathpenalty. A great conference between the two parties at Carthage in 411 marked the beginning of the decline of these heretics, but almost at once the Pelagian controversy began.

Pelagius is commonly called a Briton, but as St Jerome refers to him as “big and fat, a fellow bloated with Scots porridge,” he has been claimed for Ireland; he rejected the doctrine of original sin and taught therefore that Baptism was simply a title of admission to Heaven and death not a result of the fall, and that grace is not necessary to salvation. In 411 he left Rome for Africa with his friend Celestius, and during the very next year their doctrines were for the first time condemned by a synod at Carthage. St Augustine was not at this council, but from that time he began to oppose these errors in his sermons and letters. Before the end of that year he was persuaded by the tribune St Marcellinus to write his first treatises against them. This, however, he did without naming the authors of the heresy, hoping thus more easily to gain them; he even praised Pelagius by name. As I hear, he is a holy man, well exercised in Christian virtue: a good man, and worthy of praise.” But he was fixed in his errors and throughout the series of disputations, condemnations, and subterfuges that followed, St Augustine pressed him relentlessly. Through the corruption of human nature by sin, pride being motive-power of our heart, men are born with a propensity to Pelagianism, of principles which flatter our own strength, merit, and self-sufficiency. It is not therefore to be wondered at that this heresy found many advocates: and the wound which Pelagius caused would certainly have been much deeper had not God raised up this Doctor of Grace to be the defence of the truth. He was a trumpet to call up the other pastors, and the soul of their deliberations, councils, and endeavours to extinguish the rising flame. To him is the Church indebted as the chief instrument of God in overthrowing this heresy. From it sprang Semipelagianism, against which St Augustine wrote two books, one entitled On the Predestination of the Saints, the other On the gift of Perseverance, showing that the authors of this doctrine did not really recede from the principles of Pelagius himself.

In his Confessions St Augustine, with the most sincere humility and contrition, lays open the errors of his conduct; in his seventy-second year he began to do the like for his judgement. In this work, his Retractations, he reviewed his writings, which were very numerous, and corrected with candour and severity the mistakes he had made, without seeking the least gloss or excuse to extenuate them. To have more leisure to finish this and his other writings, and to provide against a troublesome election after his death, he proposed to his clergy and people to choose for his coadjutor Heraclius, the youngest among his deacons, but a person of great virtue and prudence, and his election was confirmed with great acclamation in 426. But in spite of this precaution Augustine’s last years were full of turmoil. Count Boniface, who had been the imperial general in Africa, having unjustly incurred the suspicion of the regent Placidia and being in disgrace, incited Genseric, King of the Vandals, to invade the African provinces. Augustine wrote a wonderful letter to Boniface, recalling him to his duty, and the Count sought a reconciliation with Placidia, but could not stay the Vandal invasion. St Possidius, now Bishop of Calama, describes the dreadful ravages by which they scattered horror and desolation as they marched. He saw the cities in ruin and the houses in the country razed to the ground, the inhabitants being either slain or fled. Some had perished by the sword; others had become slaves. The praises of God had ceased in the churches, which had in many places been burnt. Mass was said in private houses, or not at all, for in many parts there were none left to demand the sacraments, nor was it easy elsewhere to find any to administer to those who required them. The bishops and the rest of the clergy who had escaped were stripped of everything, and reduced to beggary; and of the great number of churches in Africa, there were hardly three remaining (namely, Carthage, Hippo, and Cirta) whose cities were yet standing. Amidst this desolation St Augustine was consulted by a bishop named Quodvultdeus, and afterwards by Honoratus, Bishop of Tabenna, whether it was lawful for bishops or other clergy to fly upon the approach of the barbarians. St Augustine’s answer to Quodvultdeus is lost; but in that to Honoratus he refers to it, and affirms that it is lawful for a bishop or priest to fly and forsake the flock when he alone is aimed at by name, and the people are threatened with no danger, but left quiet; or when the people are all fled, so that the pastor has none left who have need of his ministry; or when the same ministry may be better performed by others who have no need of flight. In all other cases, he says, pastors are obliged to watch over their flock, which Christ has committed to them, nor can they forsake it without crime. He more than any mourned the miseries of his country, when he considered not only the outward calamities of the people, but also the ruin of a multitude of souls that was likely to ensue, for the invading Vandals were Arians as well as barbarians. Count Boniface fled to Hippo, which was the strongest fortress in Africa, and St Possidius and several neighbouring bishops took refuge in the same place. The Vandals appeared before it about the end of May 430, and the siege continued fourteen months. In the third month St Augustine was seized with a fever, and from the first moment of his illness knew that it was a summons of God to Himself. Ever since he retired, death had been the chief subject of his meditations; and in his last illness he spoke of it with great cheerfulness, saying, “We have a merciful God.” He often spoke of the joy of St Ambrose in his last moments, and of the saying of Christ to a certain bishop in a vision mentioned by St Cyprian. “You are afraid to suffer here, and unwilling to go hence: what shall I do with you?” “What love of Christ can that be,” he wrote, “to fear lest He, whom you say you love, shall come? Brethren, are we not ashamed to say we love, when we add that we are afraid lest He come? In this last illness he asked for the penitential psalms of David to be written out and hung in tablets upon the wall by his bed; and as he there lay he read them with tears. The strength of his body daily and hourly declined, yet his senses and intellectual faculties continued sound to the last, and he calmly resigned his spirit into the hands of God on August 28, 430, after having lived seventy-six years and spentalmost forty of them in the labours of the ministry. St Possidius adds, “We being present, the Sacrifice was offered to God for his recommendation, and so he was buried,” in the same manner as St Augustine says was done for his mother. Whilst the saint lay sick in bed, by the imposition of his hands he restored to health a sick man, and Possidius says, “ I know, both when he was priest and when he was bishop, that being asked to pray for certain persons that were possessed, he poured out supplications to our Lord, and the evil spirits departed from them.”

The height of the sanctity of this illustrious doctor was derived from the deep foundation of his humility, according to what he himself lays down: Do not attempt to attain true wisdom by any other way than that which God has enjoined. This is, in the first, second, and third place, humility; and thus would I answer so often as you ask me. Not that there are not other precepts; but unless humility go before, accompany, and follow after, all that we do well is snatched out of our hands by pride. As Demosthenes, the prince of orators, is said to have replied when asked which of the rules of eloquence was to be observed first: The manner of address, in other words, the delivery. Which second? Delivery. Which third? Nothing else but Delivery. So, if you should ask me about the precepts of the Christian religion, I should answer you, Nothing but humility. Our Lord Jesus Christ was made so low in order to teach us this humility-which certain most ignorant science opposes.

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Saint Benedict, Abbot

PATRIARCH OF THE WESTERN MONKS

INDEX

From St. Gregory (Dial. 1. 2, c. 1), who assures us that he received his account of this saint from four abbots, the saint’s disciples ; namely, Constantine, his successor at Monte Cassino, Simplicins, third abbot of that house, Valentinian, the first abbot of the monastery of Lateran, and Honoratus, who succeeded St. Benedict at Subiaco. A. D. 543.

ST. BENEDICT, or BENNET, was a native of Norcia, formerly an episcopal see in Umbria, and was descended from a family of note, and born about the year 480. The name of his father was Eutropius, and that of his grandfather, Justinian. When he was fit for the higher studies, he was sent by his parents to Rome, and there placed in the public schools. He, who till that time knew not what vice was, and trembled at the shadow of sin, was not a little shocked at the licentiousness which he observed in the conduct of some of the Roman youth, with whom he was obliged to converse; and he was no sooner come into the world, but he resolved to bid an eternal farewell to it, not to be entangled in its snares. He therefore left the city privately, and made the best of his way towards the deserts. His nurse, Cyrilla, who loved him tenderly, followed him as far as Afilum, thirty miles from Rome, where he found means to get rid of her, and pursued his journey alone to the desert mountains of Sublacum*, near forty miles from Rome. It is a barren, hideous chain of rocks, with a river and lake in the valley. Near this place the saint met a monk of a neighboring monastery, called Romanus, who gave him the monastic habit, with suitable instructions, and conducted him to a deep narrow cave in the midst of these mountains, almost inaccessible to men. In this cavern, now called the Holy Grotto, the young hermit chose his abode: and Romanus, who kept his secret, brought him hither, from time to time, bread and the like slender provisions, which he retrenched from his own meals, and let them down to the holy recluse with a line, hanging a bell to the cord to give him notice. Bennet seems to have been about fourteen or fifteen years old when he came to Sublacum; St. Gregory says, he was yet a child. He lived three years in this manner known only to Romanus. But God was pleased to manifest his servant to men, that he might shine forth as a light to many. In 497, a certain pious priest in that country, whilst he was preparing a dinner for himself on Easter Sunday, heard a voice which said:”You are preparing for yourself a banquet, whilst my servant Bennet, at Sublacum, is distressed with hunger.” The priest immediately set out in quest of the hermit, and with much difficulty found him out. Bennet was surprised to see a man come to him, but before he would enter into conversation with him, he desired they might pray together. They then discoursed for some time on God and heavenly things. At length the priest invited the saint to eat, saying, it was Easterday, on which it is not reasonable to fast; though St. Bennet answered him, that he knew not that it was the day of so great a solemnity; nor is it to be wondered at that one so young should not be acquainted with the day of a festival, which was not then observed by all on the same day, or that he should not understand the Lunar Cycle, which at that time was known by very few.

After their repast the priest returned home. Soon after, certain shepherds discovered the saint near his cave, but at first took him for a wild beast; for he was clad with the skins of beasts, and they imagined no human creature could live among those rocks. When they found him to be a servant of God, they respected him exceedingly, and many of them were moved by his heavenly discourses to embrace with fervor a course of perfection. From that time he began to be known, and many visited him, and brought him such sustenance as he would accept: in requital for which he nourished their souls with spiritual instructions. Though he lived sequestered from the world, he was not yet secure from the assaults of the tempter. Wherever we fly, the devil still pursues us, and we carry a domestic enemy within our own breasts. St. Gregory relates that whilst St. Bennet was employed in divine contemplation, the fiend endeavored to withdraw his mind from heavenly objects, by appearing in the shape of a little black bird; but that, upon his making the sign of the cross, the phantom vanished. After this, by the artifices of this restless enemy, the remembrance of a woman whom the saint had formerly seen at Rome, occurred to his mind, and so strongly affected his imagination, that he was tempted to leave his desert. But blushing at so base a suggestion of the enemy, he threw himself upon some briers and nettles which grew in the place where he was, and rolled himself a long time in them till his body was *Called by the Italians, who frequently soften 1into i, Subiaco. covered with blood. The wounds of his body stifled all inordinate inclinations, and their smart extinguished the flame of concupiscence. This complete victory seemed to have perfectly subdued that enemy; for he found himself no more molested with its stings.

The fame of his sanctity being spread abroad, it occasioned several to forsake the world, and imitate his penitential manner of life. Some time after, the monks of Vicovara,* on the death of their abbot, pitched upon him to succeed him. He was very unwilling to take upon him that charge, which he declined in the spirit of sincere humility, the beloved virtue which he had practised from his infancy, and which was the pleasure of his heart, and is the delight of a God humbled, even to the cross, for the love of us. The saint soon found by experience that their manners did not square with his just idea of a monastic state. Certain sons of Belial among them carried their aversion so far as to mingle poison with his wine: but when, according to his custom, before he drank of it, he made the sign of the cross over the glass, it broke as if a stone had fallen upon it.”God forgive you, brethren,” said the saint, with his usual meekness and tranquillity of soul;”you now see I was not mistaken when I told you that your manners and mine would not agree.” He therefore returned to Sublacum; which desert he soon peopled with monks, for whom he built twelve monasteries, placing in each twelve monks with a superior. In one of these twelve monasteries there lived a monk, who out of sloth, neglected and loathed the holy exercise of mental prayer, insomuch that after the psalmody or divine office was finished, he every day left the church to go to work, whilst his brethren were employed in that holy exercise; for by this private prayer in the church, after the divine office, Saint Gregory means pious meditation, as Dom Mege demonstrates. This slothful monk began to correct his fault upon the charitable admonition of Pompeian, his superior; but after three days, relapsed into his former sloth. Pompeian acquainted St. Benedict, who said:”I will go and correct him myself.” Such indeed was the danger and enormity of this fault, as to require the most effectual and speedy remedy. For it is only by assiduous prayer, that the soul is enriched with the abundance of the heavenly water of divine graces, which produces in her the plentiful fruit of all virtues. If we consider the example of all the saints, we shall see that prayer was the principal means by which the Holy Ghost sanctified their souls, and that they advanced in perfection in proportion to their progress in the holy spirit of prayer. If this be neglected, the soul becomes spiritually barren, as a garden loses all its fruitfulness and all its beauty, if the pump raises not up a continual supply of water, the principle of both. St. Benedict, deploring the misfortune and blindness of this monk, hastened to his monastery, and coming to him at the end of the divine office, saw a little black boy leading him by the sleeve out of the church. After two days’ prayer, St. Maurus saw the same; but Pompeian could not see this vision, by which was represented that the devil studies to withdraw men from prayer, in order that, being disarmed and defenceless, they may easily be made a prey. On the third day, St. Benedict finding the monk still absent from church in the time of prayer, struck him with a wand, and by that correction the sinner was freed from the temptation. Dom German Millet’ tells us, from the tradition and archives of the monastery of St. Scholastica, that this happened in St. Jerom’s. In the monastery of St. John, a fountain sprung up at the prayers of the saint; this, and two other monasteries, which were built on the summit of the mountain, being before much distressed for want of water. In that of St. Clement, situate on the bank of a lake, a Goth, who was a monk, let fall the head of a sickle into the water as he was cutting .town thistles and weeds in order to make a garden ; but St. Maur, who with St. Placitlus lived in that house, holding the wooden handle in the water, the iron of its own accord swam, and joined it again, as St. Gregory relates. St. Benedict’s reputation drew the most illustrious personages from Rome and other remote parts to see him. Many, who came clad in purple, sparkling with gold and precious stones, charmed with the admirable sanctity of the servant of God, prostrated themselves at his feet to beg his blessing and prayers, and some, imitating the sacrifice of Abraham, placed their sons under his conduct in their most tender age, that they might be formed to perfect virtue from their childhood. Among others, two rich and most illustrious senators, Eutychius, or rather Equitius, and Tertullus, committed to his care their two sons, Maurus, then twelve years old, and Placidus, also a child, in 522. The devil, envying so much good, stirred up his wicked instruments to disturb the tranquillity of the servant of God. Florentius, a priest in the neighboring country, though unworthy to bear that sacred character, moved by a secret jealousy, persecuted the saint, and aspersed his reputation with grievous slanders. Bennet, being a true disciple of Christ, knew no revenge but that of meekness and silence: and not to inflame the envy of his adversary, left Sublacum, and repaired to Mount Cassino. He was not got far on his * Vicovara, anciently Varronis Vices, a village between Subiaco and Tivoli. journey, when he heard that Florentius was killed by the fall of a gallery in which he was. The saint was much afflicted at his sudden and unhappy death, and enpined Maurus a penance for calling it a deliverance from persecution. Cassino is a small town, now in the kingdom of Naples, built on the brow of a very high mountain, on the top of which stood an old temple of Apollo, surrounded with a grove in which certain idolaters still continued to offer their abominable sacrifices. The man of God having, by his preaching and miracles, converted many of them to the faith, broke the idol to pieces, overthrew the altar, demolished the temple, and cut down the grove. Upon the ruins of which temple and altar he erected two oratories or chapels; one bore the name of St. John the Baptist, the other of St. Martin. This was the origin of the celebrated abbey of Mount Cassino, the foundation of which the saint laid in 529, the fortyeighth year of his age, the third of the emperor Justinian: Felix IV being pope and Athalaric king of the Goths in Italy. The patrician, Tertullus, came about that time to pay a visit to the saint, and to see his son Placidus; and made over to this monastery several lands which he possessed in that neighborhood, and also a considerable estate in Sicily. St. Bennet met on Mount Cassino one Martin, a venerable old hermit, who, to confine himself to a more austere solitude, had chained himself to the ground in his cell, with a long iron chain. The holy abbot, fearing this singularity might be a mark of affectation, said to him:”If you are a servant of Jesus Christ, let the chain of his love, not one of iron, hold you fixed in your resolution.” Martin gave proof of his humility by his obedience, and immediately laid aside his chain. St. Bennet governed also a monastery of nuns, situate near Mount Cassino, as is mentioned by St. Gregory : he founded an abbey of men at Terracina, and sent St. Placidus into Sicily to establish another in that island. Though ignorant of secular learning, he was eminently replenished with the Spirit of God, and an experimental science of spiritual things : on which account he is said by St. Gregory the Great to have been”learnedly ignorant and wisely unlettered.”* For the alphabet of this great man is infinitely more desirable than all the empty science of the world, as St. Arsenius said to St. Antony. From certain very ancient pictures of St. Benedict and old inscriptions, Mabillon proves this saint to have been in holy orders, and a deacon.’ Several moderns say he was a priest: but, as Muratori observes, without rounds. By the account which St. Gregory has given us of his life, it appears that he preached sometimes in neighboring places, and that a boundless charity opening his hand, he distributed amongst the needy all that he had on earth, to lay up his whole treasure in heaven. St. Bennet, possessing perfectly the science of the saints, and being enabled by the Holy Ghost to be the guide of innumerable souls in the most sublime paths of Christian perfection, compiled a monastic rule, which, for wisdom and discretion, St. Gregory the Great preferred to all other rules; and which was afterward adopted, for some time, by all the monks of the West. It is principally founded on silence, solitude, prayer, humility, and obedience.

St. Bennet calls his Order a school in which men learn how to serve God: and his life was to his disciples a perfect model for their imitation, and a transcript of his rule.

Being chosen by God, like another Moses, to conduct faithful souls into the true promised land, the kingdom of heaven, he was enriched with eminent supernatural gifts, even those of miracles and prophecy. He seemed, like another Eliseus, endued by God with an extraordinary power, commanding all nature; and like the ancient prophets, foreseeing future events. He often raised the sinking courage of his monks, and baffled the various artifices of the devil with the sign of the cross, rendered the heaviest stone light in building his monastery by a short prayer, and, in presence of a multitude of people, raised to life a novice who had been crushed by the fall of a wall at Mount Cassino. He foretold, with many tears, that this monastery should be profaned and destroyed; which happened forty years after, when the Lombards demolished it about the year 580. He added, that he had scarce been able to obtain of God that the inhabitants should be saved.

It was strictly forbidden by the rule of St. Benedict, for any monk to eat out of his monastery, unless he was at such a distance that he could not return home that day, and this rule, says Saint Gregory, was inviolably observed. Indeed nothing more dangerously engages monks in the commerce of the world; nothing more enervates in them the discipline of abstinence and mortification, than for them to eat and drink with seculars abroad. St. Gregory tells us, that St. Bennet knew by revelation the fault of one of his monks who had accepted of an invitation to take some refreshment when he was abroad on business. A messenger who brought the saint a present of two bottles of wine, and had hid one of them, was put in mind by him to beware drinking of the other, in which he afterward found a serpent. One of the monks, after preaching to the nuns, had accepted of some handkerchiefs from them, which lie hid in his bosom; but the saint, upon his return, reproved him for his secret sin against the rule of holy poverty. A novice, standing before him, was tempted with thoughts of pride on account of his birth: the saint discovered what passed in his soul, and bid him make the sign of the cross on his breast.

When Belisarius, the emperor’s general, was recalled to Constantinople, Totila, the Arian king of the Goths, invaded and plundered Italy. Having heard wonders of the sanctity of St. Bennet, and of his predictions and miracles, he resolved to try whether he was really that wonderful man which he was reported to be. Therefore, as he marched through Campania, in 542, he sent the man of God word that he would pay him a visit. But instead of going in person, he dressed one of his courtiers, named Riggo, in his royal purple robes, and sent him to the monastery, attended by the three principal lords of his court, and a numerous train of pages. St. Bennet, who was then sitting, saw him coming to his cell, and cried out to him at some distance:”Put off, my son, those robes which you wear, and which belong not to you.” The mock king, being struck with a panic for having attempted to impose upon the man of God, fell prostrate at his feet, together with all his attendants. The saint, coming up, raised him with his hand; and the officer returning to his master, related trembling what had befallen him. The king then went himself, but was no sooner come into the presence of the holy abbot, but he threw himself on the ground and continued prostrate till the saint, going to him, obliged him to rise. The holy man severely reproved him for the outrages he had committed, and said:”You do a great deal of mischief, and I foresee you will do more. You will take Rome: you will cross the sea, and will reign nine years longer; but death will overtake you in the tenth, when you shall be arraigned before a just God to give an account of your conduct.” All which came to pass as St. Benedict had foretold him. Totila was seized with fear, and recommended himself to his prayers. From that day the tyrant became more humane; and when he took Naples, shortly after, treated the captives with greater lenity than could he expected from an enemy and a barbarian. When the bishop of Canusa afterward said to the saint, that Totila would leave Rome a heap of stones, and that it would be no longer inhabited, he answered:”No: but it shall be beaten with storms and earthquakes, and shall be like a tree which withers bythe decay of its root.” Which prediction St. Gregory observes to have been accomplished.

The death of this great saint seems to have happened soon after that of his sister St. Scholastica, and in the year after his interview with Totila. He foretold it to his disciples, and caused his grave to be opened six days before. When this was done, he fell ill of a fever, and on the sixth day would be carried into the chapel, where he received the body and blood of Our Lord, and having given his last instructions to his sorrowful disciples, standing and leaning on one of them, with his hands lifted up, he calmly expired, in prayer, on Saturday, the 21st of March, probably in the year 543, and of his age the sixty-third; having spent fourteen years at Mount Casino. The greatest part of his relies remains still in that abbey; though some of his bones were brought into France, about the close of the seventh century, and deposited in the famous abbey of Fleury, which, on that account, has long borne the name of St. Bennet’s on the Loire. It was founded in the reign of Clovis II, about the year 640, and belongs at present to the congregation of St. Maur.

St. Gregory, in two words, expresses the characteristical virtue of this glorious patriarch of the monastic Order, when he says, that, returning from Vicovara to Sublaco, he dwelt alone with himself; which words comprise a great and rare perfection, in which consists the essence of holy retirement. A soul dwells not in true solitude, unless this be interior as well as exterior, and unless she cultivates no acquaintance but with God and herself, admitting no other company. Many dwell in monasteries, or alone, without possessing the secret of living with themselves. Though they are removed from the conversation of the world, their minds still rove abroad, wandering from the consideration of God and themselves, and dissipated amidst a thousand exterior objects which their imagination presents to them, and which they suffer to captivate their hearts, and miserably entangle their will with vain attachments and foolish desires. Interior solitude requires the silence of the interior faculties of the soul, no less than of the tongue and exterior senses without this, the inclosure of walls is a very weak fence. In this interior solitude, the soul collects all her faculties within herself,’ employs all her thoughts on herself and on God, and all her strength and affections in aspiring after him. Thus, St. Benedict dwelt with himself, being always busied in the presence of his Creator, in bewailing the spiritual miseries of his soul and past sins, in examining into the disorders of his affections, in watching over his senses, and the motions of his heart, and in a constant attention to the perfection of his state, and the contemplation of divine things. This last occupied his soul in the sweet exercises of divine love and praise; but the first mentioned exercises, or the consideration of himself and of his own nothingness and miseries, laid the foundation by improving in him continually the most profound spirit of humility and compunction. The twelve degrees of humility, which he lays down in his Rule,’ are commended by St. Thomas Aquinas.’ The first is a deep compunction of heart, and holy fear of God and his judgments, with a constant attention to walk in the divine presence, sunk under the weight of this confusion and fear. 2. The perfect renunciation of our own will. 3. Ready obedience. 4. Patience under all sufferings and injuries. 5. The manifestation of our thoughts and designs to our superior or director. 6. To be content, and to rejoice, in all humiliations; to be pleased with mean employments, poor clothes, &c. to love simplicity and poverty (which he will have among monks, to be extended even to the ornaments of the altar), and to judge ourselves unworthy, and bad servants in everything that is enjoined us. 7. Sincerely to esteem ourselves baser and more unworthy than every one, even the greatest sinners.” 8. To avoid all love of singularity in words or actions. 9. To love and practice silence. 10. To avoid dissolute mirth and loud laughter: 11. Never to speak with a loud voice, and to be modest in our words. 12. To be humble in all our exterior actions, by keeping our eyes humbly cast down with the publican and the penitent Manasses. St. Benedict adds, that divine love is the sublime recompense of sincere humility, and promises, upon the warrant of the divine word, that God will raise that soul to perfect charity, which, faithfully walking in these twelve degrees, shall have happily learned true humility. Elsewhere he calls obedience with delay the first degree of humility, but means the first among the exterior degrees; for he places before it interior compunction of soul, and the renunciation of our own will.

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Saint Bernadette

THE FACTS BEHIND THE STORY

REV. A.E. BENNETT, B.A

INDEX

“ . . . Your life begins, Bernadette.” So ends the story of the earthly life of that little girl whose revelations astonished the world. And today, sixty-six years after, millions thrill to the sweet song she made, unconsciously, for all the world to hear-a song of innocence, humility and love-made not for bodily ears, but for the ears of the soul.

She learnt it from the lovely lady that she saw in the grotto of Massabielle, whose words she might well make her own: “My soul doth magnify the Lord . . . for He hath looked upon the lowliness of His handmaid . . . and He that is mighty hath done great things to me.” For in a lesser way God had done great things to her, too. She was lowly and poor and unlearned, but she was chosen to be a messenger from heaven.

On February 11, 1858, Bernadette Soubirous, child of poor parents in the town of Lourdes, in Southern France, went with two other children to gather firewood by the banks of the River Gave. She was fourteen years of age, an innocent and gentle girl, rather dull at her lessons. The day was bitterly cold, so when the other two girls took off their shoes and crossed a small stream, she waited behind, because she suffered from asthma.

However, when the others had gone further on to collect sticks, Bernadette decided to follow them. She had taken off one of her stockings when she heard the sound of a strong wind, but could see nothing. Just across the stream in the side of the hill there was a large cave, or grotto, with a kind of niche or opening high up at the back. Let Bernadette herself tell the story of what now happened:

WHAT HAPPENED TO BERNADETTE

“I turned towards the meadow, and I saw that the trees were not moving at all. I had half noticed, but without attending to it, that some branches were waving somewhere near the grotto. I went on taking my shoes off, and I was putting one foot into the water, when I heard the same sound in front of me. I lifted my eyes, and I saw a mass of branches and brambles tossed and waving this way and that; under the higher opening in the grotto; though nothing stirred all round. Behind these branches, in the opening, I saw immediately afterwards, a white girl, not bigger than I, who made me a little bow with her head. At the same time she put her hands out a little from beside her body-her arms were hanging down like the (pictures of) our Lady. A rosary was hanging on her right arm.

“I was frightened. I stepped back. I wanted to call the two little ones, but I dared not. I rubbed my eyes again and again; I thought I must be mistaken. Looking up, I saw the girl smiling at me very sweetly. She seemed to be inviting me to approach, but I still was frightened. All the same, it was not a fear like what I have felt at other times, because I would always have stayed to look at that, but when one is frightened one goes away quick. Then I thought of saying my prayers. I put my hand in my pocket and took out the rosary that I always carry in it; I knelt down and meant to make the sign of the Cross, but I could not put my hand to my forehead-it fell back. Meanwhile, the girl put herself sideways and turned towards me; this time she was holding the big rosary in her hand. She crossed herself, as though to pray. My hand was trembling; I tried again to make the sign of the Cross, and this time I could. After this I was no more frightened. I said my rosary. The girl made the beads of hers slip (through her fingers), but she did not move her lips.

“While saying my Rosary, I was looking as hard as I could. It was wearing a white dress, hanging down to the feet, of which only the tips appeared. The dress was fastened quite high up, round the neck, by a fold from which a white cord was hanging. A white veil, covering the head, went down over the shoulders almost to the hem of the dress. On each foot I saw a yellow rose.

The sash of the dress was blue, with its ends hanging down to her feet. The chain of the rosary was yellow; the beads, white, large and widely separated. The girl was alive, very young and surrounded with light. When I had finished my Rosary, she bowed to me, smiling, retired into the niche and disappeared all of a sudden.”

ECSTASY

Bernadette was examined and re-examined upon the details of what she saw, but never did she alter or add anything to the description. What, then, is the explanation of this strange story? Imagination? That’s what her parents said. That’s what the civil authorities and the clergy said. But events proved otherwise.

In spite of all kinds of hindrances, she returned to the grotto about eighteen times during the following days, and each time her “beautiful girl” appeared again. When the vision appeared, Bernadette’s face became transfigured with ecstasy. It shone with a heavenly radiance so that her mother hardly recognised her. “Tears were running from her eyes,” said a man who saw her on the second occasion; “she was smiling, and her face was beautiful-more beautiful than anything I have ever seen.” At times she was completely lost to everything else in the world, even when surrounded by thousands of people.

Was this hallucination? Not one of the symptoms of hallucination was present. A doctor observed her pulse and breathing during the ecstasy and found them both to be normal. She was perfectly calm and, after the visions, she acted in a quite normal way. She was not seeking publicity, for she took no notice of the crowds, and she tried to avoid the questioners who pestered her. She never spoke of the vision unless compelled to by inquirers. People were struck by the charming grace of her gestures, and the transparent faith and devotion she displayed when she made the sign of the Cross so beautifully in imitation of her lady.

THE MIRACULOUS SPRING

On February 25 there was an entirely new development. Bernadette was seen to move about the grotto, and then to scratch in the ground with her hands. She said afterwards that the lady told her to drink of the spring, and wash in it. She could see no spring, but the lady pointed to this place, and when she began to dig she found a little muddy water. She drank some, and rubbed it on her face. The people thought she was mad, and the scoffers began to laugh-the whole thing had become a joke.

But the joke became very serious when it was discovered in the afternoon that a stream of clear water was flowing from the muddy hole. Very soon the spring was pouring forth 27,000 gallons per day, and it has continued to do so till the present time.

Soon after this, Bernadette went to M. Peyramale, the Dean of Lourdes, with a message from her lady. She had been told to go to the priests and to tell them that a chapel should be built at the grotto. Also, the lady had said: “Let processions come hither.” The priest replied: “Have you any money to build a chapel?” “No,” she said. “Neither have I. Ask the lady for some.” The priests gave her no encouragement. None of them had been to the grotto. It is the policy of the Church not to recognise alleged visions or miracles until there is overwhelming proof that they are genuine.

It was not long before such proof was forthcoming, but it was only after several years that a commission of enquiry set up by the bishop finally pronounced that the happenings at Massabielle could be accepted as supernatural.

Things began to happen, however, that made it more and more difficult to be an unbeliever. A child that had been paralysed from birth lay dying. The doctor said there was no hope, but the mother, in desperation, carried her baby to the grotto and bathed him in the ice-cold water of the spring. Immediately the child became well; he was completely cured. Fifty years afterwards he was to be seen at Lourdes, as a man helping to carry the sick.

Such are the facts, briefly outlined, upon which the noted author, Franz Werfel, based his story, “The Song of Bemadette.” In 1940 France was overrun by the armies of Hitler. Fleeing from the Nazi persecution, Franz Werfel (not a Catholic, but a Jew) found himself in Lourdes, with little chance of escape. He expected any day to find himself a prisoner, and condemned to death. But the days dragged on, and the Nazis did not come. Franz Werfel was not idle during this time. He took the opportunity to make a study of the famous shrine of the Blessed Virgin and its history; and he made a vow that if he should escape to America, he would write a book to tell the story of the little girl whose name was already famous throughout the world.

HOLLYWOOD AND LOURDES

And so “The Song of Bernadette” was written, and the world acclaimed it as a best-seller. Then Hollywood was not slow to see in this beautiful story the material for an outstanding film. We are not accustomed to associate spirituality with Hollywood, but there can be no doubt that this film is a rare achievement. As someone said to me after seeing the picture: “You are impressed not so much by what you see as by what you do not see.” For there is a depth in it of truth and beauty that must appeal to all except the most material-minded.

Some there are, I know, who think the story is too good to be true -such things just don’t happen in these days, they say. But history and science are against them, for there is overwhelming evidence that the story is true.

In the film, certain historical details have been altered somewhat for the sake of dramatic effect, but not the main facts of the story. It might be well to point out here one or two items in the film that are not historically accurate. It is not true, for instance, that Bernadette was persuaded to enter the convent. It was her own desire entirely. She was sent to board with the Sisters in order to finish her schooling, and also to escape from the endless crowd of inquirers who wanted to cross-examine her. Some years later she asked to be admitted as a Sister into the convent and was sent to Nevers, where she afterwards spent most of her time looking after the sick.

Another point worth mentioning is this: It is true that Bernadette suffered from the severity of her Novice Mistress, Sister Marie Vazous, who seems to have failed to understand the precious soul committed to her charge. Possibly for dramatic effect the severe side of Sister Vazous’ character is considerably exaggerated in the film. Allowance should be made for this. Otherwise, the character may give a false impression to those not otherwise acquainted with convent life.

THE END OF THE SONG?

But, despite such minor defects, “The Song of Bernadette” tells a truthful story very beautifully. The lady had said to Bernadette: “I do not promise to make you happy in this world, but only in the next.” And so, quite rightly, the story ends on a note of triumph: “Your life begins, Bernadette. . . .”

That was the last note to be heard on earth, then, of the sweet song of the little peasant girl of Lourdes. Or was it? If it were, then did the whole world take up the chorus. For her story was told in many lands, and the grotto of Massabielle became a focal point of devotion, first for hundreds, then for thousands, and finally for millions. Streams of pilgrims carne from near and far. A large church was built near the grotto, and then a second and third, one above the other. Far from being forgotten, Lourdes has become more and more famous. The number of pilgrims before the war had reached over a million per year. And many of those who go are sick, and some are dying-all hoping to benefit, bodily or spiritually, from the divine gifts that are dispensed there.

But why should this be so? Why all this enthusiasm? What proof is there that an extraordinary power is at work there? Indeed, what proof have we that the whole story of Bernadette and her lovely lady is anything more than a pious legend-very beautiful and poetic, no doubt, but the product of a child’s imagination? This is the twentieth century. Science should have something to say about such alleged wonders.

THE VERDICT OF SCIENCE

Yes, and it is twentieth century science that gives the answer.

On one side of the large square before the basilica at Lourdes, there is an office called the “Bureau des Constatations.”

Within that office there meets a committee of doctors. Any qualified medical practitioner from any part of the world, be he atheist, Jew, Protestant or Catholic, may sit on that committee. In actual fact, large numbers of doctors come there to take part in its deliberations-and many of them are unbelievers.

There is a reason for the existence of this bureau, for wonderful things take place at Lourdes, well worthy of scientific investigation. Yes, the sick are cured-not all the sick who go there, by any means; but over 4000 cures have been recorded, besides many that have not been investigated.

This, then, is faith-healing, perhaps? Religious excitement, auto-suggestion, the power of the mind over the body? Yes, faith-healing can work wonders-of a sort. In the right circumstances it can cure, at least temporarily, many ailments due to nervous disorder. So-called “faith-healers” and psychologists both make use of this mower of mind over body.

MEDICAL EVIDENCE

But the cases investigated by the bureau at Lourdes are not cures of nervous disorders. They are cures of organic disease. “Faith-healing” has never cured a man in the last stages of cancer-much less, cured him in one day. Autosuggestion never caused a tuberculosis patient, spitting blood and dying, to jump from his bed, never again to suffer from any traces of the disease. Broken limbs are not set overnight by the power of the mind over the body-especially when a large section of the bone has been removed.

But all these things, and many more equally wonderful, have happened at Lourdes. The bureau rejects immediately any cure that might possibly be explained by suggestion, or any other natural cause. It examines only alleged cures of organic disease. And then it demands themost complete medical evidence, with doctors’ diagnosis, X-ray photographs and a full history of the case. If then, after a thorough examination of the patient’s present condition, it is found that a cure has taken place, and if after a considerable period of time it is found to be permanent, the bureau will pronounce that medical science can give no explanation of the cure.

Anyone is free to go to Lourdes and study the medical files of the various cases. Men of science go there in large numbers, many of them having no belief in the supernatural. These go out of curiosity, or they go to scoff. But they come away either converted or baffled. Not a single one of them has ever found a natural explanation for what goes on there.

In the beginning it was thought that the water of the spring might have some curative properties, but chemical analysis showed it to be nothing but ordinary drinking water. Anyhow, nowadays many cures take place apart from the use of the spring water.

THE CASE OF JOHN TRAYNOR

By way of an example, it may be of interest to give here some details of one of the cases recorded at the Medical Bureau. I choose the case of John Traynor.

John Traynor was a Liverpool man. In 1914, when the first World War broke out, he was mobilised with the Royal Naval Reserve, to which he belonged. On April 25, 1915, he took part in the landing at Gallipoli. He was in charge of the first boat to leave ship, and was one of the few to reach the shore that day. He seems to have been literally sprayed with bullets. Medical Corps men brought him back dazed and suffering to the beach. A well-known English surgeon operated on him in Alexandria, in an attempt to sew together the severed nerves in the upper arm, which a bullet wound had left paralysed and useless. The attempt failed, and so did another.

He suffered now frequently from epilepsy, and in April, 1920, a doctor realised that this was probably the result of the head wounds, and operated on the skull. But his condition was no better after this operation. He had fits as often as three times a day. Both legs were partly paralysed, and nearly every organ in his body was impaired.

Somebody arranged to have him admitted to Mossley Hill Hospital for Incurables on July 24, 1923. He never went there. By that date he was in Lourdes instead.

“YOU’LL DIE ON THE WAY”

A pilgrimage to Lourdes was being organised from Liverpool. John Traynor decided he was going, and managed to scrape together the few pounds necessary. But his doctor would not give him a medical certificate to travel. He tried several others. They all refused. “You cannot make the trip,” said one of the priests. “You will die on the way, and bring trouble and grief to everybody.”

But John Traynor was a determined man, and he went to Lourdes all the same. Three times they tried to take him off the train in France to bring him to a hospital, as he seemed to be dying. Each time there was no hospital where they stopped, and the only thing to do was to go on again with the patient on board. So he arrived at Lourdes.

On the morning of the second day there, he was being wheeled to the baths when he had a bad epileptic fit. Blood flowed from his mouth, and the doctors were much alarmed. As he came to, he heard them saying: “Better take him back at once to the ‘Aisle”‘ (the place where the sick are cared for). “No, you won’t,” he protested. “I’ve come to be bathed, and I’m not going back.” “You’ll die in the bath,” they said. “If I do, I’ll die in a good place.”

CERTIFIED INCURABLE

And so John Traynor was lifted into the bath-a physical wreck, covered with sores, a dying cripple. The signed statement of Drs. Azurdia, Finn and Harley testifies that he was suffering from: (1) Epilepsy; (2) paralysis of the radial, median and ulnar nerves of the right arm; (3) atrophy of the shoulder and pectoral muscles; (4) a trephine opening in the right parietal region of the skull-in this opening, about one inch, there is a metal plate for protection; (5) absence of voluntary movement in the legs, and loss of feeling; (6) lack of bodily control.

A second time he was placed in the bath, and then he was taken to be blessed during the procession of the Blessed Sacrament in the great square in front of the church. Just as the Sacred Host had passed by, his right arm, which had been dead since 1915, was violently agitated. He burst the bandages and blessed himself-for the first time in years. A strange feeling came into his legs. The stretcher-bearers thought he was having another bad turn. He was given an injection to keep him quiet, and taken back to bed.

FROM CRIPPLE TO COAL-MAN

That was in the afternoon. Early next morning he heard the bells ringing out the Lourdes hymn, and jumped out of bed. He fell on his knees to finish the Rosary he had been saying, and then ran out of the ward, pushed two assistants out of the way, and, in his pyjamas, ran barefoot a distance of some two or three hundred yards, over the rough gravel, to the Grotto.

John Traynor was cured.

“All I know, he said afterwards, “was that I should thank the Blessed Virgin, and the Grotto was the place to do it. My mother had taught me that when you ask a favour from Our Lady, or wish to show her some special veneration, you should make a sacrifice. I had no money to offer, as I had spent my last few shillings on rosaries and medals for my wife and children, but, kneeling there before the Blessed Mother, I made the only sacrifice I could think of. I resolved to give up cigarettes.”

Soon after that and any time afterwards for twenty years, you could have seen in Liverpool a hefty 16-stone man, in the coal and haulage business, lifting 200 lb. sacks of coal, who was officially classified as 100 per cent. disabled and permanently incapacitated.

That man was John Traynor. He died in 1943 from hernia, a complaint in no way related to the illness and wounds of which he was cured in Lourdes.

Another group of experts testified, though unconsciously, to the miracle. The British War Pensions Ministry, after extensive investigations, awarded him full disability pension for life. They never revoked that decision.

If the enemies of religion could find a natural explanation for such a case as this, they would certainly do so. But they have failed. Lourdes is an unanswerable challenge to modern belief. You cannot argue against Lourdes. You cannot use the weapon of science. You can only close your eyes to the facts, or else-believe.

ZOLA WRITES FICTION

There are some, of course, who say that miracles can’t happen, therefore they don’t happen. No amount of evidence would convince people with such an unscientific approach to the question. There are none so blind as those that will not see. Such a man was Emile Zola, the French novelist, who went to Lourdes and afterwards wrote a novel on what he saw there. He actually witnessed two unmistakable cures. Marie Lebranchu (called “La Grivotte” by Zola in his novel) had tuberculosis in a very advanced stage, and Zola saw her coughing up blood on the train going to Lourdes. Next day she was completely cured. In his novel Zola tells the story, but attributes her improvement to nervous excitement, and makes her collapse and die on the way home. But she did not collapse, and never had a recurrence of the disease.

Zola knew this, and when a doctor afterwards asked him why he had made the story conclude in a way that was opposed to actual facts, he replied in a tone of annoyance: “I suppose I am master of the persons in my own books, and can let them live or die as I choose? And besides,” he added, “I don’t believe in miracles. Even if all the sick in Lourdes were cured in one moment, I would not believe in them!” That reminds you of the Gospel words: “Neither will they believe if one should rise from the dead.”

Anyhow, Zola’s answer is the best that modern materialism can give. It shows what prejudice will do to a person’s judgment in face of incontrovertible facts. And there are no secrets about Lourdes-no skeleton in the cupboard. Anyone is free to go there and study the evidence and see for himself.

MIRACLES OF GRACE

But let us not get things out of proportion. The miraculous cures at the Blessed Virgin’s shrine are only a small part of the story of Lourdes. For something far more important goes on there all the time. Anyone who goes there, as I have done, will realise that. Yes, the Grotto of Massabielle is a focal point of intense prayer. If you want to see living faith, not smothered by convention or human respect-transparent faith, unmistakably sincere, then go with a pilgrimage to Lourdes.

Listen to the murmuring torrent of the Rosary, many languages together in a mighty unison, as thousands of pilgrims march in procession carrying lighted candles; and remember the message that Bernadette brought to the priest: “And the lady said, ‘Let processions come hither.’”

Or kneel in the great square before the church as Christ in the Sacred Host is carried round for the blessing of the sick. There they lie, helpless on their stretchers or sitting in wheel chairs, in long rows; and behind them kneel their relations and friends and the thousands of pilgrims. How like those days in Galilee, when they brought out their sick and blind and crippled that the Saviour might touch them!

THIS IS NEAR HEAVEN

Then a voice rings out, the voice of a priest leading the prayers: “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on us!” And then:

“Lord, we adore Thee!” And round the square the echo rolls from all those voices: “Lord, we adore Thee!” “Lord, we hope in Thee!’ And the answer comes: “Lord, we hope in Thee!”

‘Lord, we love Thee!” He who does not pray at Lourdes is indeed hard of heart. Then, as the Blessed Sacrament approaches, you hear the invocations:

“Thou are the Christ, the Son of the living God!”

“Thou art my Lord and my God!”

“Thou art the Resurrection and the Life!”

Again and again the voices rise in response: “Thou art the Resurrection and the Life!” Yes, and Lourdes is indeed a place of resurrection and life. For the sick and the suffering go away from there with new hope, new courage, new resignation and new peace. And there are conversions there-the conversion of sinners, the conversion of unbelievers. Bernadette once during her visions, after prostrating herself on the ground, stood and, turning to the people, cried out three times the word “Repentance!” How many countless souls have been brought to repentance here at the feet of the Blessed Virgin!

So does the Mother of God lead us to her Divine Son and to His Church. That Church has never in her long history lacked the testimony of miracles in her difficult task of convincing mankind of her divine mission to teach and sanctify all men. The Divine seal of miracles is the simplest and surest guide for the seeker after the true religion. The facts are obvious and beyond dispute. The only explanation is the direct intervention of God, Who cannot deceive His children. Thus, the testimony of Lourdes to the truth of the Catholic Church is its real significance for modern man.

And it all began with that gentle little girl, so “stupid,” so favoured, who went gathering firewood by the Gave at Massabielle. These are the facts behind the story that has captivated the world.

DEATHBED OF A SAINT

The life of Bernadette is a perfect example of how God makes use of the humblest of instruments to do His work. “For the weak things of the world hath God chosen that He may confound the strong.” Bernadette’s life was one of humility, charity, suffering and the love of God. And, as she lived, so did she die. Here is an account of her death:

“At that hour, as increasingly throughout her illness, it was noticed how alive her eyes were. Their limpid depth had often been spoken of; they must have been wonderful, and specially in her face, that was so “peasant” in its purity. She answered all the prayers for the dying, and then, an hour before her departure, raising her eyes, cried three times, “Oh!” in a voice, they said, of surprise rather than of pain. Her body trembled throughout; she put her hand on her heart, and said, with clear accentuation: “My God, I love Thee with all my heart, with all my soul, and with all my strength.” She then took the crucifix into her own hands and kissed it, and begged pardon once more for all the trouble she had given. Then she said she was thirsty; she made, for the last time, her “marvellous sign of the Cross,” and drank a few drops. Then she said gently: ‘Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for me, a poor sinner, a poor sinner,’ and died very quietly during this last prayer.”

“Your life begins, Bernadette . . .”

In 1933 Bernadette was declared a Saint by the highest authority in the Church.

Nihil obstat:

F. MOYNIHAN, Censor Deputatus.

Imprimatur:

@ D. MANNIX,

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis. November 30, 1945.

********

Saint Bernard, Abbot of Clairvaux

DOCTOR OF THE CHURCH A.D. 1153

REV. ALBAN BUTLER

INDEX

ST BERNARD was the third son of Tescelin Sorrel, a Burgundian noble, and Aleth, who was daughter of Bernard, lord of Montbard. He was born in 1090 at Fontaines, a castle near Dijon and a lordship belonging to his father. His parents were persons of virtuous life and his mother, not content to offer him to God as soon as he was born, as she did all her seven children, consecrated him to His service in the Church, as Anne did Samuel, and from that day considered him as not belonging to her but to God; and she took a special care of his education, in hopes that he would one day be worthy to stand at the altar. Indeed she brought up all her children with the greatest care and never trusted them to nurses. Their names were Bd. Guy, Bd. Gerard, St Bernard, Bd. Humbeline, Andrew, Bartholomew, and Bd. Nivard. They were all well educated and learned Latin and verse-making before the sons were applied to military exercise and feats of arms; but Bernard was sent to Chatillon on the Seine, to pursue a complete course of studies in a college of secular canons. He even then loved to be alone, largely at first because of shyness; his progress in learning was far greater than could be expected from one of his age; and he was soon alert to listen to what God by His holy inspirations spoke to his heart. One Christmas-eve, while waiting with his mother to set out for Matins, he fell asleep and seemed to see the infant Jesus newly born in the stable at Bethlehem; from that day he ever had a most tender devotion towards that great mystery of love and mercy, and in speaking of it always seemed to surpass himself in the sweetness of his words. He began the study of theology and of the Holy Scriptures at Chatillon, and was nineteen years old when he returned finally to his home, having been thirteen years at the school. In that same year his mother died. Her charities and attendance in the hospitals, her devotion and all her other virtues, had gained her the reputation of a saint. Bernard was greatly attached to Aleth and her loss was a heavy blow; he was in danger of becoming morbidly despondent till he was rallied out of his brooding and inertia by his lively sister Humbeline.

Bernard was now his own master, and made his appearance in the world with all the advantages and talents which can make it attractive to a young man, or which could make him loved by it. His personal attractiveness and wit, his affability and sweetness of temper, endeared him to everybody; but in these very advantages lay his chief danger, and for a time there was serious risk of his becoming lukewarm and indifferent. His keen sensibility and personal beauty laid him open to strong temptations against chastity; once an impudent woman forced herself on him; but he drove her from his room by waking the house with a cry of “Thieves!” By these and other temptations of the world Bernard was made to think of forsaking it and the pursuit of letters, which greatly attracted him, and of going to Citeaux, where only a few years before SS. Robert, Alberic and Stephen Harding had established the first monastery of that strict interpretation of the Benedictine rule, called after it “Cistercian.” He wavered for some time in his mind, and one day going to see his brothers, who were then with the Duke of Burgundy at the siege of the castle of Grancey, in great anxiety he went into a church by the road and prayed that God would direct him to discover and follow His holy will. He arose steadily fixed in the resolution of following the severe Cistercian life. His friends endeavoured to dissuade him from it; but Gaudry, lord of Touillon, his uncle, who had gained great reputation by his valour in the wars, although a man with a wife and family, came to the same resolution. Bartholomew and Andrew, two younger brothers of Bernard, also declared that they would come too. Guy, the eldest brother, was also appealed to. He had obligations which seemed to fix him in the world, for he, too, was married, and had two daughters; but his wife Elizabeth eventually consented and herself became a nun at Jully. Gerard, the second brother, was not to be so easily won, being a soldier of reputation and full of his profession, but he was soon after wounded in his side by a lance and taken prisoner, and during his convalescence God called him, and he, too, went to join his brothers. Hugh of Macon (who afterward founded the monastery of Pontigny, and died Bishop of Auxerre), an intimate friend of St Bernard, wept bitterly at the thought of separation, but by two interviews was induced to become his companion. Nor were these the only ones who, with apparently no previous thought of the religious life, suddenly decided to leave the world for the austere life of Citeaux. Bernard induced in all thirty-one men to follow him-he who himself had been uncertain of his call only a few weeks before. It is a happening unparalleled in Christian history. Bernard’s eloquent appeals were irresistible; mothers hid their sons, wives their husbands, lest they came under the sway of that compelling voice and look. They all assembled in a house at Chatillon, preparing to consecrate themselves to God, and on the day appointed for their meeting Bernard and his brothers went to Fontaines to take farewell of their father and beg his blessing. They left Nivard, the youngest brother, to be a comfort to him in his old age. Going out they saw him at play with other children, and Guy said to him, “Adieu, my little Nivard! You will have all our estates and lands to yourself.” The boy answered,” What! you then take Heaven, and leave me only the earth. The division is too unequal.” They went away; but soon after Nivard followed them, so that of the whole family there only remained in the world the old father and his daughter, Bd. Humbeline.

After they had stayed six months at Chatillon to settle their affairs they all departed for Citeaux, which had been founded fifteen years and was at that time governed by St Stephen. The company arrived there about Easter in 1112 and begged to be admitted to join the monks. St Stephen, who had not had a novice for several years, received them with open arms. St Bernard was then twenty-two years old. He entered this house with the desire to die to the remembrance of men, to live hidden, and be forgotten, that he might be occupied only with God. To guard against sloth he repeated often to himself the saying of the great St Arsenius, “What have you come here for?” and practised what he afterwards used to say to postulants who presented themselves to his monastery at Clairvaux: “If you desire to live in this house, you must leave your body; only spirits can enter here”; that is, persons who live according to the Spirit. So rigidly did he guard his eyes that it is said that after a year’s novitiate he did not know whether the top of his cell was vaulted or covered with a ceiling, nor whether the church had more than one window.

After his novitiate he made his profession into the hands of St Stephen with all his companions except one, and continued his exemplary cloistered life. Not being able to reap corn so as to keep up with the rest, his superior ordered him other work; but he begged of God that he might be enabled to use a hook properly, and soon equalled the best hands. At his work his soul was continually occupied in God, and he used afterwards to say that he never had any other master in his studies of the Holy Scriptures but the oaks and beeches of the forest for that spiritual learning of which he became so great a doctor was a gift of the Holy Ghost, obtained by purity of heart, meditation, and prayer. The peace of his soul shone through his countenance, in which the charm of heavenly grace captivated and surprised those that beheld at first only a face that was emaciated, pale, and wan. He suffered all his life from stomach troubles, without ever speaking of them or using any indulgence, unless compelled by those who took notice of them. He used to say, “Our fathers built their monasteries in damp, unwholesome places so that the monks might have the uncertainty of life more dearly before their eyes.” But these monasteries built in uncultivated deserts or swampy lands were by the monks” industry drained of their morasses and converted into gardens and meadows. St Bernard was a great lover of poverty in his habit, cell, and all other things, but called dirtiness a mark of laziness or of affectation. He seemed to have lost all taste for food, and often took one for another when offered him by mistake, so that he once drank oil instead of water.

The number of monks being grown too great at Citeaux, St Stephen founded in 1113 the monastery of La Ferté, in Burgundy, and in 1114 that of Pontigny in Champagne. Hugh, Count of Troyes, offered ground on his estates, whereon to found a third monastery; and the abbot, seeing the great progress which Bernard had made and his extraordinary abilities, gave him a cross, appointed him abbot, and ordered him to go with twelve monks, among whom were his brothers, to found a new house in the diocese of Langres in Champagne. They walked in procession, singing psalms, with their new abbot at their head, and settled in a place called the Valley of Wormwood, surrounded by a forest, which had often been a retreat for robbers. These thirteen monks grubbed up a sufficient area and, with the assistance of the bishop and the people of the country, built themselves a house. This young colony had much to suffer and was often relieved in some need in a sudden and unexpected manner; and these effects of providence St Bernard made use of to excite confidence in God. These fervent monks, animated by the example of their abbot, lived through a period of extreme and grinding hardship. The land was poor and their bread was usually made of coarse barley; and boiled beech leaves were sometimes served up instead of vegetables. Bernard at first was so severe in his discipline, coming down upon the smallest distractions and least transgressions of his brethren, whether in confession or in chapter, that although his monks behaved with the utmost humility and obedience they began to be discouraged, which made the abbot sensible of his fault. He condemned himself for it to a long silence. At length, being admonished by a vision, he resumed his preaching with extraordinary fruit, and provided that meals should be more regular, though the food was still of the coarsest, as William of St Thierry relates. The reputation of the house, and of the sanctity of the abbot, in a short time became so great that the number of monks in it amounted to one hundred and thirty; the name of the valley had now been changed to Clairvaux, because it was situated right in the eye of the sun.

St Bernard was attacked by a serious illness so that his life was almost despaired of about the end of the year 1118. His great admirer, the learned and good Bishop of Châlons, William of Chainpeaux, went to the chapter of the order then held at Citeaux and obtained authority to govern him as his immediate superior for one year. With this commission he hastened to Clairvaux, and lodged the abbot in a little house outside the enclosure, with orders that he should not observe even the rule of the monastery and that he should be entirely freed from all care of the affairs of his community. Here the saint lived under the direction of a physician from whose hands he received treatment which was calculated to kill him even quicker than his disease, but he carried it out without complaint and after a year returned in better health to his monastery. His aged father Tescelin and the young Nivard had followed him there in 1117, and received the habit at his hands. The four first daughters of Citeaux, namely La Ferté, Pontigny, Clairvaux, and Morimond, became each a mother-house to many others, and Clairvaux had the most numerous offspring. St Bernard founded, among many others, in 1117 the abbey of Trois Fontaines, in the diocese of Châlons, that of Fontenay, in the diocese of Autun, Rievaulx and Fountains in England, and that of Foigny, in the diocese of Laon. The last was in 1121 and in the same year he wrought his first miracle, restoring, while he sang Mass, his power of speech to a certain lord, his relation, called Josbert de la Ferté, that he might confess his sins before he died, three days after, having made restitution for numerous acts of injustice. When the saint had confidently promised this restoration of Josbert, his uncle Gaudry and his brother reproved him for his imprudence, but Bernard repeated the assurance in stronger terms; the saints have a supernatural instinct when for the divine honour they undertake to work a miracle. The author of St Bernard’s life adds an account of other sick persons cured instantaneously by the saint’s making the sign of the cross upon them, attested by eye-witnesses of weight and unexceptionable veracity. We are also told that the church of Foigny was infested with flies till, by the saint’s saying he “excommunicated” them, they all died. The malediction of the flies of Foigny became famous as a proverb in France.

In consideration of his ill health the general chapter dispensed Bernard from work in the fields and ordered him to undertake extra preaching instead. This led to his writing, at the request of the Abbot of Fontenay, his treatise on the Degrees of Humility and Pride, which was the first of his published works (1121). It includes a study of character which, says the Abbé Vacandard, “the most expert psychologist would not disavow.” In 1122 he had to take a journey to Paris where, at the request of the bishop and archdeacon, he preached to the students who were candidates for holy orders, some of whom were so moved by his discourse that they accompanied him back to Clairvaux, and persevered there. Several German gentlemen who called to see the monastery were so strongly affected by all they saw that they agreed to return, hung up their swords, and took the habit. Their conversion was the more wonderful as till that day they had been interested chiefly in war, tilts and tournaments. Humility made Bernard sincerely regard “himself as un- worthy and incapable of moving others; but charity opened his mouth, and he poured forth his thoughts with such eloquence,that, aided by God’s grace, it brought about these and similar conversions. He received into his monastery monks who came from other orders that were less austere, but declared that he was most willing to give leave to any of his own who should desire to pass to any other religious institute from the motive of seeking their greater perfection. Peter the Venerable, Archabbot of Cluny, having addressed an expostulation to Clairvaux, charging the Cistercians with hypocrisy and with vilifying the Cluniacs, St Bernard replied in an apologia, in which he refutes the charge of slander and makes serious adverse criticism of Cluniac life. Charity was admirably maintained on either side, and in the event Peter and Suger, Abbot of Saint Denis, inaugurated a reform. During the year 1125, in which during a famine he had often exhausted the provisions of his monastery to feed the poor, Bernard was once again brought to the very gates of death. It happened in this illness that he once appeared to those about him as if he were actually dying, and he fell into a trance, in which he seemed to himself to see the Devil accusing him before the throne of God. To the charge he made only this answer, “I confess myself unworthy of the glory of Heaven, and that I can never obtain it by my own merits. But my Lord Jesus possesses it upon a double title: that of inheritance, by being the only-begotten Son of His eternal Father; and that of purchase, He having bought it with His precious blood. This second title He has conferred on me, and by it I claim the reward of Heaven.” The Devil was confounded and disappeared. Then Bernard saw himself waiting on the seacoast to board a vessel, but it stood out to sea and left him. Finally Our Lady appeared and laid her hands on him, and when he awokehis sickness had left him. St Bernard’s works sufficiently declare his devotion to the Blessed Virgin. In one of his missions into Germany, being in the great church at Spires, it is said he spontaneously sang during a procession, “0 clemens, 0 pia, O dulcis Maria,” which words the Church added to the anthem Salve Regina (the word “virgo” before “Maria” is a later addition still). The custom was introduced from this incident of singing that anthem every day with great solemnity in the cathedral of Spires. Notwithstanding St Bernard’s love of retirement, obedience and the Church’s needs frequently drew him from his cell. Like several other great saints who have had in a supreme degree the gift of contemplation and wished only to live alone with God in the retirement of a monastery, he had for years on end to be about his Father’s business in active and public, even political, affairs. In 1137 he wrote that his life was “over-run in all quarters with anxieties, suspicions, cares, and there is scarcely an hour that is left free from the crowd of discordant applicants, from the trouble and care of business. I have no power to stop their coming and cannot refuse to see them, and they do not leave me even the time to pray.” So great was the reputation of his learning and sanctity that princes desired to have their differences determined by him and bishops regarded his decisions with the greatest respect, referring to him the most important affairs of their churches. The popes looked upon his advice as the greatest support of the Holy See, and all people had a profound respect and veneration for his person and his opinion. It may be said of him that in his solitude he governed all the churches of the West. The first occasion which called for his help outside was a dissension between the Archbishop and citizens of Reims, whom the saint reconciled, confirming his words by the miraculous cure of a boy that was deaf, blind, and dumb. He opposed the election of unworthy persons to the episcopacy or other ecclesiastical dignities, which raised him many enemies, who spared him neither slanders nor abuse. Their common complaint was that a monk ought to confine himself to his cloister. To this he answered that a monk was a soldier of Christ as much as other Christians, and oughtto defend the truth and the honour of God’s sanctuary. By his example Henry, Archbishop of Sens, and Stephen, Bishop of Paris, renounced the court and their secular manner of living; and Suger, Abbot of Saint Denis, who was minister to King Louis the Fat and for some time regent of the kingdom, and who lived in great state accordingly, laid aside his worldly habits, resigned all his posts, and shut himself up in Saint Denis, where he banished the court out of his abbey and reestablished regular discipline. He often reminded ecclesiastics of their strict obligation of giving whatever they enjoyed of church revenues, above a necessary maintenance, to the poor. Thus he wrote to the Dean of Languedoc: “You may imagine that what belongs to the Church belongs to you, while you officiate there. But you are mistaken: for though it be reasonable that one who serves the altar should live by the altar, yet it must not be to promote either his luxury or his pride. Whatever goes beyond bare nourishment and simple plainclothing is sacrilege and theft.” Bernard had, much against his will, to assist at the synods of Troyes, Arras, Chalons, and others, in the course of which he encouraged and cooperated in the founding of the Knights Templar and concurred in the deposition of the Bishop of Verdun and the Abbot of Saint Sepulchre. The severity of these disciplinary measures was imputed entirely to St Bernard and drew upon him a rebuke from the Chancellor of the Roman Church; in reply he amply justified the part he had taken, protested his unwillingness to be present at the councils, and asked that he should not be summoned again.

After the death of Honorius II in 1130, Innocent II was chosen pope on the same day by the greater number of cardinals. But, at the same time, a faction attempted to invest with that supreme dignity Cardinal Peter de Leone, who took the name of Anacletus. He had formerly been a monk of Cluny, was an ambitious worldly man, and so powerful that he got the strongholds of Rome into his hands. Innocent II was obliged to fly to Pisa. A council of French bishops was held at Etampes, twenty-five miles from Paris, to which St Bernard was invited. He strenuously maintained the justice of Innocent’s cause, he was recognized by the council, and soon after came into France, where he was splendidly received by King Louis the Fat. St Bernard waited on him, and accompanied him to Chartres, where he met Henry I, King of England, who was at first inclined to favour the antipope, but was persuaded by St Bernard to acknowledge Innocent. The saint followed the Pope into Germany, and was present at the conference which he had with the Emperor Lothaire, who recognized the lawful pope on the condition of receiving the right of giving the investitures of bishoprics. St Bernard’s remonstrances overwhelmed Lothaire and made him withdraw the condition, which Innocent had refused. His Holiness held a council at Reims in 1131, and went from Auxerre to visit Clairvaux, where he was received in procession, as in other places, but without any splendour: the monks were clad in coarse habits and before them was carried a homely wooden crucifix. The bread which was served at table was made of coarse flour that had never been sifted; the other food was vegetables and herbs, with one small fish for the Pope, of which a chronicler says the other guests had to be satisfied with admiring it from a distance. Nor was there any wine. Innocent insisted on keeping Bernard by his side and in the year following he attended the Pope into Italy, and reconciled to him Genoa and some other cities. He arrived with him at Rome, whence he not long after was sent into Germany as papal legate to make peace between the Emperor Lothaire II and the two nephews of Henry V, his predecessor. He marked every stage of his journey by supporting the cause of the true pope and by the conversion of sinners, among others, of Alois, Duchess of Lorraine, sister to the Emperor, who had for a long time dishonoured her rank and religion by her scandalous behaviour; having pacified the troubles of Germany he returned into Italy, being obliged by the Pope to assist at the council of Visa in 1135, in which the schismatics were excommunicated. Afterwards he went to Milan to reconcile that city to the Holy See. He wrought there many miracles, and wherever he came was received as a man sent from Heaven. He induced the Milanese to renounce the schism and reconciled them with the Emperor, and the grateful citizens established at Chiaravalle the first Cistercian house in Italy. In November he was allowed to return to Clairvaux, and among the postulants he took with him was a canon of Pisa, Peter Bernard, who was to become Pope Eugenius III; for the present he was put to stoke the fire in the monastery calefactory.

In the previous year St Bernard had been called into Aquitaine where William, the powerful duke of that province, persecuted those that adhered to the true pope, and had on that account expelled the Bishops of Poitiers and Limoges. Gerard, Bishop of Angouleme, an abettor of the schism, encouraged him in these excesses. This William was a prince of immense wealth, gigantic stature and strength of body, and extraordinary abilities in worldly affairs, but was in his youth impious, haughty, and impatient of the least control. He seemed not to be able to live out of war, and was openly living with his brother’s wife. St Bernard was not afraid of this formidable person, the Duke listened to his arguments for a week, and was finally won over. But directly Bernard was gone the Bishop of Angoulême undid his work. The saint, who had learned never to despair of the most obstinate sinner, redoubled his prayers and endeavours, till he had the comfort to see William begin to come again to the obedience of the rightful pope, but could not prevail upon him to restore the two bishops whom he had unjustly deprived of their sees. At length he had recourse to more powerful arms. He went to say Mass, the duke and other schismatics staying at the door, as being excommunicated persons. After the giving of the kiss of peace before communion, the abbot put the Host upon the paten and, carrying It out, his eyes sparkling and his countenance all on fire, spoke to the Duke no longer as a suppliant but with a voice of authority: “Hitherto I have entreated you and prayed you, and you have despised me. Several servants of God have joined their entreaties with mine, and you have never regarded them. Now, therefore, the Son of the Virgin, the Lord and Head of that Church which you persecute, comes in person to see if you will repent. He is your judge, at whose name every knee bends, in Heaven, Earth, and Hell. Into His hands your obstinate soul will one day fall. Will you despise Him? Will you scorn Him as you have done His servants? Will you?” The Duke, not being able to hear any more, fell down in fear. St Bernard lifted him up, and bade him salute the Bishop of Poitiers, who was present. The Duke was not able to speak, but went to the bishop, and kissed him, and afterwards led him by the hand to his cathedral-church, expressing by that action that he renounced the schism and restored the bishop to his see. After this, the saint returned to the altar and finished the sacrifice. A particular impulse of the Holy Ghost, the great authority of the saint, and the dignity with which he was enabled to perform so extraordinary an action, make it an object of admiration, though not of imitation. As for Duke William, it made so deep an impression upon his mind that his conversion was complete. He founded a Cistercian monastery and undertook a penitential pilgrimage to Compostella, on which he died. Thus by the efforts of St Bernard was the schism extinguished in many places, but it was still protected by Roger, King of Sicily and Duke of Calabria. The Pope called the saint to Viterbo in 1137, and thence sent him to this prince. Bernard, in a public conference at Salerno, convicted Anacletus’s partisans of schism, and brought over many persons of distinction to the union of the Church, including Cardinal Peter of Pisa; but Roger remained inflexible. The death of the antipope in 1138 opened the way to the peace of the Church for, though the schismatics chose Gregory Conti, the activities of Bernard in Rome so damaged his cause that he surrendered his pretensions to Innocent II. Hereupon Bernard asked the Pope for permission to return to his monastery, which he was at last permitted to do.

In 1139 St Bernard was elected to the archiepiscopal see of Reims; it was not the first time he had been called to the episcopacy-it was in fact the fifth-but he resolutely refused the dignity and his refusal was again respected; he was present at the tenth general council, Lateran II. All this time he had continued diligently to preach to his monks, notably those discourses on the Canticle of Canticles, and he now for the first time made the acquaintance of St Malachy (Maelmhaedhoc o”Morgair), who had recently retired from the see of Armagh; the ensuing friendship between the two lasted until Malachy’s death in Bernard’s arms nine years later. In 1140 he wrote his famous letter to the metropolitan chapter of Lyons protesting against their introduction of the feast of the Conception of our Lady, which was not known in the West until comparatively late. Bernard wrote in the belief that the canons wished to celebrate, not the infusion by God of the soul into the human embryo, but her “active conception,” i.e., the generative act of her parents. From other passages in his writings it may be gathered that St Bernard believed in the Immaculate (passive) Conception of our Lady, a doctrine which in those days was not yet defined by the Church to be of faith. Later in the same year he preached for the first time in a public pulpit, primarily to the students of Paris. They are the two most powerful and trenchant of his discourses preserved to us, in which he says much of “things hellish and horrible”; they effected some good and a number of conversions among the students, who were at first superior to their fervent “evangelicalism.”

If St Bernard was the most eloquent and influential man of his age, the next was the brilliant and unhappy Peter Abelard, who was, moreover, of far wider learning. The two were bound to come into collision, for they represented two currents of thought which, not necessarily opposed, were not yet properly fused: on the one hand, the weight of traditional authority and “faith not as an opinion but a certitude”; on the other, the new rationalism and exaltation of human reason. In 1121 Abelard’s orthodoxy had come under suspicion and after a synod at Soissons he had had to burn a book he had written containing certain opinions on the mystery of the Holy Trinity, but about 1136, after a brief career as abbot of St Gildas de Rhuys, he returned to teach enthusiastic audiences in Paris. In 1139 William of St Thierry, a Cistercian of Signy, denounced some of Abelard’s teachings and writings, and informed Geoffrey, Bishop of Chartres, who was legate of the Holy See, and St Bernard, saying they were the only persons who could crush the mischief. St Bernard had three private conferences with Abelard, at which he promised to abandon his dangerous doctrines, but he did not keep his promise, and Bernard attacked him publicly and before the authorities. Thereupon Abelard challenged him to substantiate his charges before an assembly of bishops which would meet at Sens at the Pentecost of 1140. Bernard was unwilling to appear, telling the bishops it was their business, so that Abelard triumphed, and his friends said Bernard was afraid to encounter him face to face. The saint therefore was obliged to be present. But Abelard, who dreaded the eloquence of the abbot above all things, only presented himself at the council to hear the charges drawn up by St Bernard out of his own book read against him; he declined to give any answer, though he had liberty given him to do it, had very favourable judges, and was in a place where he had no reason to fear anything. Instead, he appealed to the Pope, and then withdrew from the synod with his party. The bishops condemned seventeen propositions extracted out of his works, and wrote to Pope Innocent II, who confirmed their sentence. Stopping at Cluny on his way to Rome, Abelard heard of this confirmation and he was persuaded by the abbot, Peter the Venerable, to recall whatever he had written which gave offence, and to meet St Bernard. He did so, and was reconciled to him. With the Pope’s leave he resolved to spend the remainder of his life at Cluny, being now really sorry for his pride and aberrations. St Bernard himself has since been grievously criticized for his unrelenting pursuit of Abelard: but he had detected in him vanity and arrogance masquerading as science, and rationalism masquerading as the use of reason, and his ability and learning made him the more dangerous. St Bernard wrote to the Pope: “Peter Abelard is trying to make void the merit of Christian faith, when he deems himself able by human reason to comprehend God entirely . . . the man is great in his own eyes.”

Probably about the beginning of the year 1142 the first Cistercian foundation was made in Ireland, from Clairvaux, where St Malachy had put some young Irishmen with St Bernard to be trained. The abbey was called Mellifont, in county Louth, and within ten years of its foundation six daughter-houses had been planted out. At the same time Bernard was busied in the affair of the disputed succession to the see of York, set out in the account of St William of York (June 8), in the course of which Pope Innocent II died. His third successor, within eighteen months, was the Cistercian abbot of Tre Fontane, that Peter Bernard of Pisa to whom reference has been made, who is known to history as Bd. Eugenius III. St Bernard wrote a charming letter of encouragement to his former subject, addressed: “To his most dearly loved father and master, Eugenius, by the grace of God Sovereign Pontiff, Bernard, styled Abbot of Clairvaux, presents his humble service.” But Bernard was also rather frightened, for Eugenius was shy and retiring, not accustomed to public life, and he wrote also to the College of Cardinals, a letter beginning: “May God forgive you what you have done! You have put back among the living a man who was dead and buried. You have again surrounded with cares and crowds one who had fled from cares and crowds. You have made the last first, and behold! the last state of that man is more perilous than the first.” Later he wrote for Pope Eugenius’s guidance the longest and most important of his treatises, de Consideratione, impressing upon him the various duties of his office, and strongly recommending to him always to reserve time for self-examination and daily contemplation, applying himself to this still more than to business. He proves to him that consideration serves to form and to employ in. the heart all virtues. He reminds the Pope that he is in danger of falling, by the multiplicity of affairs, into a forgetfulness of God and hardness of heart: the thought of which made the saint tremble for him, and tell him that his heart was already hardened and made insensible if he did not continually tremble for himself; for if the Pope falls, the whole Church of God is involved. The work has been most highly esteemed by popes and theologians ever since. Bernard also relentlessly pursued Arnold of Brescia, “a man who neither eats nor drinks because, like the Devil, he thirsts only after the blood of souls. His conversation has nothing but sweetness, and his doctrine nothing but poison. He has the head of a dove, but the tail of a scorpion,” whose heretical teaching and stirring up of the Roman populace caused the Pope for a time to flee from his city. In the meantime the Albigensian heresy and its social and moral implications had been making alarming progress in the south of France. St Bernard had already been called on to deal with a similar sect in Cologne and in 1145 the papal legate, Cardinal Alberic, asked him to go to Languedoc. Bernard was ill and weak and hardly able to make the journey, but he obeyed, preaching at Bergerac, Perigueux, Sarlat, and Cahors on the way. Geoffrey, who was for some time the saint’s secretary, accompanied him, and relates many miracles to which he was an eyewitness. He tells us that at Sarlat, in Périgord, Bernard, blessing with the sign of the cross some loaves of bread which were brought, said, “By this shall you know the truth of our doctrine, and the falsehood of that which is taught by the heretics, if such as are sick among you recover their health by eating of these loaves.” The Bishop of Chartres, who stood near the saint, being fearful of the result, said, “That is, if they eat with a right faith, they shall be cured.” But the abbot replied, “I say not so; but assuredly they that taste shall be cured, that you may know by this that we are sent by authority derived from God, and preach His truth.” And a number of sick persons were cured by eating that bread. When the saint lodged at St Saturnin’s, a house of regular canons at Toulouse, one of the canons lay at the point of death, so weak that he could not rise from his bed; but by a visit and prayer of the saint he was restored to perfect health. “That instant,” says Geoffrey, “he rose from his bed, and following after, overtook us and kissed the blessed man’s feet with an eager devotion which can only be imagined by those who saw it.” The bishop of the place, the legate, and the people went to the church, the man who had been sick leading the way, and gave thanks to God for His blessing. Bernard preached against the heresy throughout Languedoc; its supporters were stubborn and violent, especially at Toulouse and Albi, but in a very short time he had restored the country to Catholic orthodoxy and returned to Clairvaux. But he left too soon, the restoration was more apparent than real, and twenty-five years later Albigensianism had a stronger hold than ever. Then came St Dominic.

On Christmas Day, 1144, the Seljuk Turks had captured Edessa, centre of one of the four principalities of the Latin kingdom of Jerusalem, and immediate appeals for help were at once sent to Europe, for the whole position was in danger. King Louis the Young announced his intention of leading an expedition to the East, and the Pope commissioned St Bernard to preach the holy war. He began at Vézelay on Palm Sunday 1146, when Queen Eleanor and many nobles were the first to take the cross, and were followed by such large numbers of people, moved by the monk’s burning words, that the supply of cloth badges was exhausted and he had to tear strips off his habit to make others. When he had roused France, he wrote letters to the rulers and peoples of England, Italy, Sicily, Spain, Poland, Denmark, Moravia, Bohemia, and Bavaria, and then went in person into Germany. First he had to deal with a halfcrazy monk, called Rudolf, who in his name was inciting the people to massacre the Jews, and then made a triumphant journey through the Rhineland, confirming his appeals by an amazing succession of miracles, vouched for by his companions. The Emperor Conrad III received him with honour, took the cross from him at Spires, and set out on the crusade with an army in the May of 1147, followed by Louis of France. This, the second, crusade was a miserable failure; Conrad’s forces were cut to pieces in Asia Minor and Louis did not get beyond laying siege to Damascus. Its ill success is chiefly ascribed to the treachery of the Greek Emperor, Manuel Comnenus, but was also in no small measure due to the crusaders themselves, of whom a great part were led by no other motive than the prospect of plunder, were lawless, and committed every kind of disorder in their march. To those who were led by motives of sincere penance and religion, these afflictions were trials for the exercise of their virtue, but the ascetical exercise was dearly bought. This unfortunate expedition raised a great storm against St Bernard, because he had seemed to promise success. His answer was that he confided in the divine mercy for a blessing on an enterprise undertaken for the honour of the divine name; but that the sins of the army were the cause of its misfortunes; further, who could judge the extent of its success or failure, and “how is it that the rashness of mortals dares reprove what they cannot understand?”

In 1151 Gunnar, King of Sardinia, made a visit to Clairvaux, and was so edified with what he saw practised there that he returned the year following, and made his religious profession in that house, and the like was done by Prince Peter, brother to King Alfonso of Portugal, and by Prince Henry, third son of King Louis VI. In 1147 Pope Eugenius visited Clairvaux, and afterwards assisted at the general chapter of the order held at Citeaux, at which the whole Benedictine congregation of Savigny, consisting of thirty or more monasteries, passed into that of Citeaux and, out of respect for St Bernard, became a filiation of Clairvaux. After the return of the crusaders Bernard, in concert with Abbot Suger, who had opposed the former venture, energetically started to organize another, and in 1150 Bernard himself was elected to lead the Christian army to victory; he wrote to the Pope, reproaching him for his lack of enthusiasm, and preparations went on apace. But at the beginning of the next year Suger died, and France being again on the brink of civil war the project was never put into execution. Bernard urged the Emperor to proceed against Arnold of Brescia, who still held Rome against the Pope, but Conrad died suddenly in 1152 and Bd. Eugenius in 1153, and in the beginning of that year St Bernard too entered on his last illness. He had long dwelt in Heaven in desire, though this desire he by humility ascribed to weakness, not to charity. “The saints,” said he, “were moved to pray for death out of a desire of seeing Christ; but I am forced hence by scandals and evil. I confess myself overcome by the violence of the storm for want of courage.” For a time he mended a little in the spring, and was called on for the last time to leave Clairvaux to succour his neighbour. The inhabitants of Metz having been attacked and defeated with great slaughter by the Duke of Lorraine, they were vehemently bent on revenge. To prevent the shedding of more blood the Archbishop of Trier went to Clairvaux, and earnestly implored Bernard to journey to Metz in order to reconcile the parties that were at variance. At this call of charity he forgot his corporal infirmity and immediately made his way into Lorraine, where he prevailed on both sides to lay aside their arms and accept a treaty which he drew up. When he was back at Clairvaux his illness returned with more grievous symptoms; his stomach was scarcely able to bear the least nourishment even taken in liquids, his arms and legs swelled as if he had dropsy, and he was hardly able to sleep for a few minutes at a time. When he received the last sacraments and his spiritual children assembled about him in tears, he comforted and encouraged them, saying that the unprofitable servant ought not to occupy a place uselessly, and that the barren tree ought to be rooted up. His love for them inclined him to remain with them till they should be gathered with him to God; but his desire to enjoy Christ made him long for death. “I am straitened between two;” he cried, “and what to choose I know not. I leave it to the Lord; let Him decide.” And God took him to Himself, on August 20, 1153; he was sixty-three years old, had been abbot for thirty-eight, and sixty-eight monasteries had been founded directly from Clairvaux. He was canonized by Pope Alexander III in 1174, and in 1830 formally declared a Doctor of the Church: Doctor mellifluus, the Honey-sweet Doctor, as he is now universally called.

St Bernard “carried the twelfth century on his shoulders, and he did not carry it without suffering”; he was during his life the oracle of the Church, the light of prelates, and the reformer of discipline; since his death he continues to comfort and instruct by his writings. The great French lay scholar of the seventeenth century, Henry Valois, did not hesitate to say they are the most useful for piety among all the works of the Fathers of the Church, though he is the youngest of them in time, and Sixtus of Siena, the converted Jew, said, “His discourse is everywhere sweet and ardent: it so delights and warms that from his tongue honey and milk seem to flow in his words, and a fire of burning love to break forth from his breast.” To Erasmus he was “cheerful, pleasant, and vehement in moving the passions,” and in another place, “He is Christianly learned, holily eloquent, and devoutly cheerful and pleasing.” From Pope Innocent II to Cardinal Manning, from Luther to Frederic Harrison, Catholics and Protestants of eminence have recognized the sanctity of St Bernard and the greatness of his writings, in which he is equally gentle and vigorous; his style is sublime, lively, and pleasant; his charity appears even in his reproaches and shows that he reproves to correct, never to insult. This gives such a force to his strongest invective that it gains the heart and instils both awe and love: the sinner whom he admonishes can only be angry with himself, not with the reprimand or its author. He had so meditated on the Holy Scriptures that in almost every sentence he borrows something from their language, and diffuses the marrow of the sacred text with which his own heart was filled. He was well read in the writings of the early Fathers of the Church, especially SS. Ambrose and Augustine, and often takes his thoughts from their writings and by a new turn makes them his own. Though he lived after St Anselm, the first of the scholastics, and though his contemporaries are ranked in that class, yet he treats theological subjects after the manner of the ancients. On this account, and for the great excellence of his writings, he is reckoned among the Fathers. And though he is the last among them in time, he is one of the greatest to those who desire to study and to improve their hearts in sincere religion. A perfect spirit of humility, devotion, and divine charity reigns throughout his writings and strongly affects his readers, for it is the language of his own heart, always glowing with love and penitence.

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Saint Brigid

THE MARY OF IRELAND

BY ALICE CURTAYNE

INDEX

CERTAINTY attaches to Irish record only from the coming of St. Patrick. Before that, all is cloudy surmise; after it the nation begins to emerge in a clear light. In that early clarity of record three names linked together will stand out for all time. No one can write our history without reference to them. No account of our native literature can be presented if they be ignored, for the three have been our abiding inspiration through the ages. No account, even of native art, can be written without explaining them. Archaeologists work backwards and arrive at them. Geographers have to consider them, for these three names are everywhere woven into the topography of the country. If, therefore, through some mystery of iniquity the Church were silenced in Ireland and there were an end to native literature and art, still the very stones would cry out those names; wells, ruins, raths, and townlands would tell their story. Mountains would have to be levelled to blot out their memory. These three upon whom abut all our history, literature, art, building and topography are: Patrick, Brigid, and Columcille. Their memory is our spiritual banner. When that flag is surrendered, the Gael is no more.

Saint Patrick, before he died, wrote his “Confession,” a precious document, enshrined in the “Book of Armagh.” It is brief, capable of being read attentively in half and hour; it is accessible to all in Dr. J. B. Newport White’s translation, a rendering not only accurate, but having the higher merit of reproducing something of the original’s deep spirit. In this “Confession,” Saint Patrick speaks chiefly of his missionary work in Ireland, and of the stupendous success that crowned his labours. He does not try to minimize his success-such not being the way of truth- but he humbly ascribes it directly to God. He tells us that what most astonished him among his converts were: the rapid emergence of a strong native clergy, and the firm rooting of monasticism in a soil miraculously congenial.

A native clergy and a native monastic impulse are indeed the two factors that give a sort of divine guarantee of permanence to the evangelization of any country. Patrick, son of a Roman decurion, trained through the long, slow years at the famous centres of Marmoutier, Lerins, Arles, and Auxerre, with rigid Roman-Empire notions of what was civilized and what barbarian, confesses himself astonished at the aptness and the quick spiritual insight of his Irish converts. But the most amazing unexpected blossom that unfolded in the garden planted by Patrick was-Brigid. If the Apostle envisaged the rising up of even a Columcille in Ireland, I do not think he had dared dream of such a portent as Brigid.

Every one of her nine or ten first biographers assigns a different date to her birth, but no date is very far distant from the year 450. One must, therefore, be content with saying that she was born about the middle of the fifth century. The new chronology of Patrick’s life, outcome of extensive research, places his death in the year 461. This makes it impossible for Saint Patrick to have known Brigid in her maturity. As a fact, in the oldest “Lives” of the Apostle she is mentioned only once. She can have been little more than a child when he died.

If I begin by saying Brigid was a flame, I risk the charge of taking a caption from the cinema, yet that is the term used by her first biographers in describing her. Her singularity must be emphasized. The idea of perpetuating her memory by keeping a fire constantly burning as a symbol of her was strictly appropriate. All who approached her in life testified that she communicated a sort of illumination and warmth. She stood out luminously against a background of gloom. Some authorities affirm that her name means “fiery arrow.” She certainly shot up like a dart of fire out of utter darkness.

To appreciate the unique and dramatic nature of such a portent as she was, one must see her in sharp contrast with the women of her day. I do not say that these were not emancipated. There are many senses in which the women of early Christian Ireland were far more emancipated than we. They had special assemblies of their own to discuss matters of feminine interest, and no man was permitted to be present. They had games of their own at fairs. There is evidence that ladies of rank learned how to read and write. A woman aimed not merely at knowing all feminine crafts, but at possessing all the utensils necessary for them- to wit, a hand-mill, sieve, loom, distaff, spindles; if she possessed all these, she had a special status, that of a “great worker,” as it was quaintly termed. A prospective husband in those days had to pay a dowry to his bride’s father, so that someone, I think it is O’Curry, remarks that Ireland was the only place where the wife rather than the husband was bought. After marriage, a wife was allowed separate ownership of property, and her position was practically equal to that of her husband. in the early Christian Ireland that produced Brigid there is no hint of injustice or subjection in the normal status of woman.

I say “the normal status,” for there was a second grade of women, bond-maidens or slave-women, who were much less fortunate. They had no rights. They were frequently grossly treated. Ancient Irish literature is full of anecdotes illustrating the miseries of their position. Saint Patrick pitied them sincerely. The fact that he makes special mention of them in his “Confession” shows that their plight was on his mind:

“The women who are kept in slavery suffer especially; they constantly endure even unto terrors and threats. But the Lord gave grace to many of His handmaidens, for, although they are forbidden, they earnestly follow the example (set them).”

The state of affairs is very clear from this brief reference. When the slave-woman of pagan masters became a convert, she had not much to hope for by way of sympathy or facilities to practise her religion, unless her masters, too, were converted. It was unheard of that a slave-woman should have ideas, or even a will of her own. The moment she was suspected of possessing such, her lot was “suffering, terrors and threats.” Now the miracle of Brigid is that she belonged to this despised and downtrodden class.

Two points must be remembered. First this: among free women there was no possible sphere of usefulness, no status, no avenue of honour thinkable outside of family life. The idea of leadership, of organization by women among women, was absolutely unknown. Secondly, neither within nor without the family was emancipation even dreamed by slave-women. But Brigid arose from among them, and straightway the whole framework of the feminine world was altered, its horizons enlarged, and on those horizons there dawned Vision. She was not the first nun in Ireland, but among the first, and she was the very greatest. She was a captive, destined to hold captive for all time the imagination of her people. She opened to free women a gate into a new land, but to bondwomen she opened the very gates of Paradise. In one gesture she taught them to mount what a stairway of escape! Immunity from ill treatment, liberty, status, vocation, and the chance of pursuing it in a dedicated life.

As Dr. Healy has pointed out, the full weight of evidence is in favour of the account stating that Saint Brigid was the daughter of a Leinster chieftain named Dubhthach-lineal descendant of a High King of Ireland-and of a bondwoman in his household. Brigid was not born in her father’s house, but at Faughart, a village some two miles from Dundalk, in the house of a Druid to whom her mother had been sold before the birth of the child.

Having royalty on one side and slavery on the other, Brigid grew up with an inborn comprehension of all classes of society. Frequently, in after-life, we find her claiming kinship with slaves, but while making almost a regal gesture. She had what is called a bad start, indeed a very bad start, in life. If there was any happiness in her childhood, no gleam of it has been transmitted in the “Lives.” Probably no one today could find a childhood so unhappy as Brigid’s. If Dubhthach had sold her mother, he had reserved for himself the offspring. Shortly after her birth, therefore, the child, who had been baptized a Christian, was taken back into her father’s household to receive her own initiation into drudgery. She had there a stepmother who detested her, and who made her the object of persecution. From that sordid background, her individuality began to emerge uniquely, like rare blossom. She perplexed her chieftain father because she had two undeniable gifts hardly ever found in combination: extreme beauty and the quickest intelligence. She could not be ignored. But her gifts hardly recommended her to her stepmother. In the end, Dubhthach, to promote the peace of his household, determined to be rid of Brigid.

One of the charges brought against her at this period was her habit of giving away her father’s property in “indiscriminate” charity. Her bounty was always of that sweeping and even devasting kind, disconcerting to those about her. Traits of royalty seem to have come out most inconveniently in the slave girl. She was incapable of refusing a beggar. When set minding sheep, she would even hand one of them away-to a leper, perhaps! She might indicate even a cow as his portion. . . . Her exceptional strong-mindedness is evident at this early age; her dogged determination to right some of the injustice of the world. For we may be sure that “suffering, terrors and threats” were employed very freely in her case to deter her from taking her Christianity with such literalness. No punishment had the least effect on her (after all, she was Dubhthach’s daughter). Hence the reason she was called away one day from her domestic drudgery and placed in a chariot by her father. He had made up his mind to sell her to the son of his overlord, the King of Leinster.

The story of what ensued is full of human interest. Brigid, being a wholly normal child, beamed with delight at the prospect of a drive. But her father was in a towering rage, and said roughly to her: “It is not to give you a treat that I am taking you in the chariot, but to sell you. You are going to grind the corn for Dunlaing now.” When they arrived at the latter’s fortress, Dubhthach left her sitting in the chariot, while he went in to make a bargain. The unhappy man left his sword, too, in the chariot. A beggar seems to have come on the scene immediately and Brigid serenely handed him her father’s sword! This to show how very incorrigible she was. . . . I leave to the reader’s imagination the scene that followed her father’s return.

Dunlaing, her prospective buyer, was a Christian, fortunately for Brigid. Of her bountiful giving he took an altogether different view from her father. Also he appears to have remonstrated with Dubhthach for trying to sell his own daughter. He gave him a new sword to placate him. The upshot was that Brigid was not sold, but taken home again. After this she seems to have gradually slipped out of a condition of bondage.

She started then from absolute nothingness, and all the help she received in her career came not from her family, but from such Christian bishops as she had the good fortune to encounter. Patrick had set the example of purchasing the manumission of slaves wherever possible, so as to enable them to practise their religion, and his disciples followed his example.

It was probably through some such assistance that Brigid became a nun while yet in her early teens, sixteen or seventeen. Two names of bishops stand out as her counsellors: Maccaille, by whom she was professed, and Mel, who was her constant adviser.

It was the practice in those early days for nuns, or “consecrated virgins,” as they were called, to remain in their own home, or in small and usually unorganized groups. Brigid in the beginning did likewise. Then she ventured living with eight or nine companions, and thus became the pioneer of community life, and the patroness of all the hosts innumerable of Irish nuns. The site where her first community made their convent settlement is unknown. But Brigid’s example was followed so rapidly and by such numbers that other foundations became imperative. She was forced to lead a life of constant travel to respond to the demand for new settlements. Of these the greatest and most famous was at Kildare, where she chiefly had her residence, in her “Cell-of-the-Oak.”

As a nun, Brigid appears to have dressed in a white woollen habit and cloak, with a white veil, and her hair was not cut. She wrote a rule which is no longer extant, but said to enjoin a severe mode of life, in which mortification entered largely. None of her nuns, however, led an enclosed life. Brigid, as we have said, was of necessity an indefatigable traveller, constantly driving in a chariot around the country. In these journeys, it was her practice to take some of her sisters in religion to accompany her. Before her death she was the Mother Abbess of thirteen thousand nuns.

Many times in her life we find Brigid securing the freedom of slaves, always with an interest that amounted to passion. One of these was a woman whom she found her father ill treating; another was a girl who was being cruelly beaten by her mistress, who was neverthless unwilling to part with the slave at any price because she was “a weaver of very fine stuffs.”

Around the little community, established at her “Cell-of-the-Oak,” Kildare, there soon grew a mighty institution, even a settlement as large as a city. Brigid founded a monastic house for men as well as for women and it was probably for that reason she was granted the favour of nominating a bishop for Kildare. These monks, who lived according to Brigid’s rule, founded in their turn a school, which speedily rivalled the famous school of Armagh. The Kildare school specialized in artistic metal work, so that from Brigid’s “family” there originated one of the strongest impulses to Christian native art. Beautifully ornamented chalices, patens, book-covers, crosiers and bells were supplied from Kildare to all the churches in Ireland.

Illumination was another branch of art in which this school excelled. There existed at one time, now alas, no longer extant, a Book of Kildare which is said to have surpassed in beauty even the Book of Kells. Giraldus Cambrensis, who appears to have seen it in the twelfth century, praised it at great length as the most beautiful book he had ever beheld.

Brigid’s exceptional powers of construction and administration naturally attracted the notice of contemporary ecclesiastics, and all who were of note appear to have sought her counsel in the organization of the areas under their jurisdiction. Her strong-mindedness, a quality rare in woman, has given rise to many legends: one of these represents her as having episcopal powers conferred upon her, and another as she, herself, conferring episcopal powers, both legends being manifestly absurd. That, from taking counsel of bishops, she developed into the counsellor of bishops is certain; that she even had a voice in the appointing of bishops is probable.

Great stress is laid in the “Lives” on her material charity. The hugeness of her bounty was a perpetual embarrassment to her community, as a few examples will show. Once she and her companions were driving in a chariot on a long journey, when they encountered a poor family, with heavy burdens, toiling along the road, apparently moving house. The saint immediately alighted, bade her nuns do likewise, and handed their vehicle over to the pedestrians. Then she and her sisters sat down by the roadside to consider the position, for their destination was too far away to reach it on foot. We read of her community frequently losing patience and railing at her. They are even represented as saying this: “Much good your compassion does us, when we are often without bread and clothing!” Who can blame them? The terrific example given by Brigid seemed too hard for mortals. Once it devolved upon her to entertain a bishop and his retinue. Her nuns assiduously collected provisions and prepared a feast which they considered fairly adequate for the occasion. But, almost on the eve of the event, a crowd of beggars came to the gates, importuning alms, and Brigid dispensed among them every item, down to the last crumb, of what had been prepared for the feast!

This must have been a great personal sacrifice, for if the saint had a recreation it was the exercise of hospitality. Everyone who came to her doors was entertained. In this lavish dispensing she was frequently disturbed by misgivings of an insufficient supply. Would the butter last out? Or would the beer go round? were the anxieties known to Brigid the hostess. But all earthy feasts come to an end. This great-souled woman always thought the backs of departing guests a sad sight. Did they have enough? And would they be fed tomorrow? were her recurrent troubles. There is an Irish poem ascribed to her in which she is supposed to envisage heaven as a stupendous feast, shared by countless guests and going on forever, replenished from inexhaustible supplies; even a “lake of ale” is mentioned. Though the authenticity of the poem is dubious, the idea is just. It is strictly true of Brigid that her heaven would be a state in which she could have all the pleasures of hospitality without its solicitudes.

Her visions were as characteristic of her as that notion of heaven. Professor Gardner, extending a thought of Shelley, has remarked somewhere that “the mystic’s representation, the language that he uses, must all be coloured by his previous education and mental equipment.” It is, indeed, highly interesting to observe that when the saints attempt to describe their visions they invariably end by describing some daily scene, but to which they attach an allegorical meaning. Thus when Saint Catherine of Siena, pursued with questions about her ecstatic experience, attempted a stammering description, what emerged, in fact, was no more than a description of an early Sienese painting! How characteristic in this respect were the visions of Brigid. In that one described in the Labar Brecc, she “saw” ploughmen and sowers, clear shining streams, oats springing up, a furrowed field, all farm animals: sheep, swine, dogs. These are the things on which Brigid’s eyes rested every day.

For Saint Brigid is supremely the saint of pastoral life. She is the genius of our Irish homesteads, and every farm is in a sense her shrine. She is the tutelar spirit of our meadows and gardens. But within the iron gates of industrial cities, she is a stranger. All her legends are about farm life, milking cows, making firkins of butter, calling home the sheep in the rain. She was at home in a dairy. The legends evoke discomfitures that are very familiar: the dairymaid’s confusion when a superior worker sneers at her butter, as insufficient in quantity or indifferent in quality. Brigid was a notable butter and cheese maker, and her home-brewed ale was famous throughout the land. After her profession, even when she was Mother Abbess of thirteen thousand nuns, she still spent part of each day at those rural occupations. We read of her coming in from shepherding, her garments saturated with rain; or supervising the reapers from dawn to sunset in the harvest fields about her convent settlement; or contentedly busy over her stores of honey and wholesome brews. She was familiar with and loved all animal life. The wild duck came at her call. Once she tamed a wild fox for a pet.

Yet one finds her represented in statues—I remember one notably, at St. Gerans holding a book in one hand and a quill pen in the other. This is because she was the patroness of learning, too. I have said that the school founded by her inspiration at Kildare became one of the two most famous in Ireland. She fostered culture equally with pastoral occupations. Therefore in order to describe her adequately, one must associate words commonly-and perhaps wrongly-dissociated. One must call her an intellectual dairymaid, a cultured cowherd, a field-labourer who promoted art and literature, a shepherdess who had learning. In considering Brigid at her rural occupations, let that statement in the Book of Lismore be always remembered too:

“Wherefore thence it came to pass that the comradeship of the world’s sons of reading is with Brigid, and the Lord gives them through Brigid’s prayer every perfect good they ask.”

An epigrammatic mode of speech and a certain imperiousness are attributed to her. Once a visitor brought her a basket of choice apples, which Brigid immediately began to distribute among lepers. “I did not bring them for those,” cried the visitor, chagrined, “but for you.” “What is mine is theirs,” answered Brigid. Once an Abbot with some companions came to her convent to preach. They had come a long journey and, on their arrival, told her they were hungry. “So are we hungry-for instruction,” said Brigid. “Go into the church first and preach and then you shall eat.”

She was vehement by nature, and her method in intercourse was to cut an argument short by swift and emphatic action. She practised personal mortification to an extent that would be frightening to detail, yet never lost hold of practical common sense. See how these traits emerge from the following anecdotes. Once in a period of bad harvests, a little settlement she had founded was without food, and Brigid with two companions set out to procure some. They finally arrived in a starving condition at a neighbouring monastic settlement. The Abbot set before them bread and bacon, which Brigid began thankfully to eat. But it was Lent, and her two companions refrained from the bacon, as though to say: “We’re going to keep the fast, even if you’re not!” When Brigid noticed their attitude, she was so indignant at what was but Pharisaical formalism under circumstances of such stress, that she jumped up from the table, and, taking the sisters by the shoulders, ran them out of the room.

Leprosy, or some form of it, must have been common at the time in Ireland, for lepers throng the old “Lives”; prowling around the convent in search of alms, living permanently on Brigid’s bounty, obtaining miraculous cure from her, or quarrelling among themselves, for they were an obstreperous class, and appeared to think their affliction gave them the privelege of lawlessness. We see Brigid in her white woollen dress and white veil constantly labouring in a circle of these for their relief. Once she told one of them, who was but slightly afflicted, to wash another, who was a mass of scurvy. The leper surlily refused. Whereupon Brigid, without comment, dragged forward a tub of water and did it herself.

For all her fiery vehemence, she had an abiding gentleness, too, as is seen in that story of the blind nun, Dara. Once, during her round of visitations, she came upon this old, blind sister and sat beside her to talk. Like many who are similarly afflicted, Dara’s mind was exceptionally bright, and her conversation very good. Brigid forgot the passage of time while they talked in complete absorption. She realized it with a start when she saw through the open doorway dawn breaking over the fields, and found that the night had passed in discussion. The saint sat looking silently at the beauty of the sunrise, and the freshness of the world it revealed. Artist that she was, it profoundly affected her. And suddenly it seemed an intolerable thing that her companion could not see it too. Turning to Dara, she touched her eyes and the blind nun saw. Dara looked long at the daybreak without speaking. Then she said to Brigid: “Give me back my blindness, for if I were to behold this every day, my powers of contemplation would be scattered.” Brigid touched her eyes again and left her enveloped in welcome darkness.

There is in all the stories, legendary and authentic, concerning Brigid, a surprising ring of familiarity. The miraculous apart, those simple episodes of everyday occurrence sound as though they had happened yesterday to some nun of our acquaintance. It is worthy of note about this saint that she held the affections not only of her own communities, but of the laity too, who always enjoyed visiting her. We read of a girl coming to see her and the hours passing in a flash. The visitor was exceedingly sorrowful when she found it was time to go. “Stay here for the night,” said Brigid. “But there is no one at home to milk the cows,” said the girl, “no one to feed the calves, or drive in the cattle unless I go.” “Leave all that to me,” said Brigid. So the girl, persuaded, remained. Of course, when she got home next day, her property was safe and all had been done for her by miracle.

The same occurred with another girl, whose heart seemed to break when the moment of departure came, “Stay here for the night,” said Brigid. But this girl had an aged, paralysed father waiting at home, and she insisted with anguish that she should return or his anxiety would be intolerable. “Leave all that to me,” said Brigid. When the girl returned home in the forenoon of the following day, her father welcomed her with a tranquil smile.

He said the sun had never ceased shining during her absence, which he believed to be but of an hour’s duration. I like that picture of the old man, dozing off in full sunshine, his eyes sealed at Brigid’s prayer so that he knew nothing of the torturing passage of lonely hours. When he opened them again, he saw the same full sunshine and his daughter coming towards him.

Physical courage entered largely into Brigid’s work of organizing convent settlements all over Ireland. She had to drive immense distances, often over rough roads, and over rivers, and with mettlesome horses. We read of her being twice thrown from her chariot, and on one occasion her head struck a stone and was cut open. Once her horse bolted, and stopped by miracle on the edge of a precipice. Once, in order to avail of a short cut, her charioteer insisted on driving her through a field that was private property, and in the process of being hedged. There ensued a fight between him and some labourers, in which Brigid incurred considerable danger.

It was a time of lawlessness too. The protection of her little settlements was one of her problems. We read, more than once, of robbers plundering the property of her communities. Brigid, in her abounding charity, was frequently victimized, even by the rich, although, in such event, she usually scored signally in the end.

She suffered always from an infirmity of the eyes, said to have originated in a blow dealt by her step-brother when she was a child. She showed a distaste for consulting a physician in order to procure relief, but was persuaded to do so by Bishop Mel. It is curious to note that Brigid’s mother appears to have suffered also from some affection of the eyes.

She was sought out by all the foremost figures in the ecclesiastical world of her day. Those meagre first “Lives” of her are interspersed with great names. Two have already been mentioned: Maccaille and Mel. She travelled Munster with Bishop Erc, that “sweet-voiced” Brehon, who was the first to acclaim Patrick at the court of King Laoghaire, and who was Brendan’s preceptor, teaching him even as he himself had been taught by Patrick; Erc, of whom it is written, “everything that he did was just.” The famous Gildas the Wise sent Brigid a bell from his retreat in Brittany. Brendan, the Navigator, came to her when he returned from his first voyage, to lay his renown at her feet. Ailbe of Emily consulted her on his Rule.

One of the most beautiful legends about Brigid represents her hurrying in out of the fields from a shower of rain, her garments soaked. It must have been an April day, for when she reached her cell the sun was shining again, and a sunbeam, strong and golden, shone through her door. Brigid took off her wet cloak and hung it on the sunbeam to dry! It is thus I should like to see her represented by an artist. The legend is a convenient symbol. Brigid did something even more marvellous than causing the sun to stand still over the Valley of Jehosaphat. Before its radiance could be dimmed, she arrested the first sunburst of Christianity, causing its beams to shine strongly and forever. All the light of Ireland’s conversion is bound up in her name

She died about the year 523 in the convent settlement of her predilection, Kildare. She was then in the seventies. She received the Last Sacraments from Saint Ninnidh, who, on that account, has gone down into history as Ninnidhof-the-Clean-Hand. The legend goes that Saint Brigid had prophesied to him he would assist her at the hour of her death, and he ever afterwards wore a gauntlet on his right hand in order that nothing should defile it before he had administered the last rites to her. It may be an extreme way of stating how the prophecy impressed Ninnidh, and of how carefully he bore himself in order to be not too unworthy of the honour. Tradition has it that the remains of Saint Brigid were finally interred in the same grave with those other two who are the pride of the Irish race-Patrick and Columcille. The doubt, therefore, that attaches to the grave of Patrick surrounds, too, the burial-place of Brigid.

The fame and popularity accruing to her in life became phenomenal at her death. The first Christian missionaries who left the shores of Ireland carried her name with them like a banner of conquest. In the Book of Lismore there is a hymn to her, but the authorship is dubious. Some notion of what Saint Brigid meant to her contemporaries and immediate followers can be gained from the speculations about the authorship of this hymn. The scribe makes five guesses: he says perhaps it was Saint Columcille wrote it, when he was caught in a storm at sea, and prayed to Brigid for a calm; perhaps it was Brocan Cloen; perhaps it was three of her disciples who went to Rome, and prayed to her when they found themselves in great danger there; perhaps it was Saint Brendan, who heard her name honoured by the very-monsters of the deep; or perhaps it was Ultan. The strength of her cult is testified by the ubiquity of her name in Scotland, Wales, Cornwall, Devon, France, and particularly Brittany. Her remarkable influence still speaks plainly in those dedications of churches too numerous to be counted.

There is a beautiful panegyric of Saint Brigid at the end of her “Life” in the Book of Lismore. In the translation by Whitley Stokes its beauty has been preserved. Here is an abridgement of the passage:

“Everything that Brigid would ask of the Lord was granted to her at once. For this was her desire: to satisfy the poor, to expel every hardship, to spare every miserable man. None was ever more retiring, more modest, more gentle, more humble, more wise, or more harmonious than she. She was abstinent, innocent, prayerful, patient; she was glad in God’s commandments; she was firm, humble, forgiving, loving; she was a consecrated casket for keeping Christ’s Body and His Blood; she was a temple of God. Her heart and her mind were a throne of rest for the Holy Ghost. She was simple before God; she was compassionate towards the wretched; she was splendid in miracles and marvels; wherefore her name among created things is Dove among birds, Vine among trees, Sun among stars.

“She helps everyone who is in strait and danger; she banishes pestilence; she quells the anger and the storm of the sea. She is the prophetess of Christ, she is the Queen of the South; she is the Mary of the Gael.”

It is not known how early in our history that tribute to her was written. The book of Lismore was copied in the latter half of the fifteenth century from a collection of ancient manuscripts now lost.

THE BRIGIDINE ORDER

During her own lifetime St. Brigid, foundress of monasticism in Ireland, saw convents spread throughout the country, convents which continued to flourish down the centuries-even after the so-called Reformation. It took the clean-sweep of the Penal Days to deprive Ireland of practically all her religious institutes and Ireland, as we know, was an unhappy land without them.

Even before the Emancipation (1829), however, God inspired some holy men with the idea of restoring, or trying to restore, the Religious Orders. Among these was the Right Rev. Daniel Delaney, Bishop of Kildare and Leighlin, whose residence, then, was in the town of Tullow, County Carlow. Here he established the Confraternity of the Blessed Sacrament-composed of the most exemplary of his people, whom he enrolled as teachers of Catechism and Christian Doctrine. From this Confraternity grew two religious institutes, which have rendered priceless service to the cause of Catholic education: the Sisters of St. Brigid and the Brothers of St. Patrick. The Bishop constituted himself the spiritual director of these religious, for whom he was already preparing a set of Rules when the Rebellion of 1798 put an end, for the time being, to his plans. No sooner was peace restored, however, than the good work began again.

On the Feast of St. Brigid, 1807, the first Brigidine Convent was established at Tullow. The name of a pious lady, Miss Judith Browne, who was educated at the Benedictine Convent, Ypres, is bound up inseparably with the history of the earliest beginnings of the Brigidine Order. She came to Tullow to place herself under the spiritual direction of Dr. Delaney, and her coming was most opportune, for, with her experience and thorough knowledge of religious life and discipline, she was able to render invaluable assistance to the young community. The remainder of her days was spent in the peaceful retreat she had chosen, though she never became a member of the Community.

The Brigidine Nuns are, in point of fact, a very ancient Order reborn, and their spirit is the spirit of their holy foundress, St. Brigid. Though their work in a modern world has necessarily altered, they still devote themselves, first to their own sanctification and, next, to the education of Catholic youth. The acorn sown by Dr. Delaney has grown into a mammoth oak, whose branches have spread over two hemispheres.

From Mountrath, Ireland, the first members of the Order came to Australia and had their first foundation at Coonamble, N.S.W.

At the request of Dr. Crane, Bishop of Sandhurst, the first foundation was made from Tullow to Echuca in 1886. In the same year a foundation was made to Beechworth from Abbeyleix. In the following year Goresbridge sent a little band of missionary Sisters to open a foundation at Wangaratta. And two years after the Beechworth foundation a second band of missionary Sisters left Abbeyleix for Ararat at the request of the Right Rev. J. Moore, Bishop of Ballarat.

In 1889 all the Brigidine convents were amalgamated under a Mother-General, whose residence is at Tullow. Each Province has a Novitiate House under a Mother-Provincial. At the present time there are Brigidine convents- affiliations of the first foundations in the State of Victoria-at Rochester, Kyabram, Maryborough, Horsham, Mentone, Albert Park, Hawthorn, Springvale, Ardeer, Geelong and Traralgon. The head house in the Victorian Province, established in Malvern in 1917, is also the Novitiate House.

CARDINAL MORAN’S PRAYER TO ST. BRIGID

O Glorious St. Brigid, Mother of the Churches of Erin, Patroness of our missionary race, wherever their lot may be cast, be thou our guide in the paths of virtue, protect us amid temptation, shield us from danger. Preserve to us the heritage of chastity and temperance; keep ever brightly burning on the altar of our hearts the sacred fire of Faith, Charity and Hope, that thus we may emulate the ancient piety of Ireland’s children, and the Church of Erin may shine with peerless glory as of old. Thou wert styled by our fathers “The Mary of Erin”; secure for us by thy prayers the allpowerful protection of the Blessed Virgin, that we may be numbered here among her most fervent clients, and may hereafter merit a place, together with thee and the countless Saints of Ireland, in the ranks of her triumphant children in Paradise. Amen.

PRAYER TO ST. BRIGID

Dear Saint Brigid, brilliant star of sanctity in the early days of our Irish faith and love for the omnipotent God who has never forsaken us, we look up to you now in earnest, hopeful prayer. By your glorious sacrifice of earthly riches, joys, and affections, obtain for us grace to “seek first the Kingdom of God and His justice” with constant trust in His fatherly care. By your life of laborious charity to the poor, the sick, the many seekers for light and comfort, obtain for us grace to be God’s helpers to the utmost of our power during our stay on earth, looking forward, as you did, to our life with Him during eternity.

By the sanctified peace of your death-bed, obtain for us that we may receive the fullness of pardon and peace when the hour comes that will summon us to the judgement seat of our just and most merciful Lord. Amen.

Nihil obstat :

BERNARD O’CONNOR, Diocesan Censor.

Imprimatur :

@ DANIEL MANNIX,

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis. 18th October, 1960

********

Saint Cajetan Or Gaetano, Conf

FOUNDER OF THE CLERKS REGULAR A.D. 1547

INDEX

ST CAJETAN was son of Gaspar, Count of Thienna (Tiene), and Mary di Porto, of the nobility of Vicenza, where he was born in 1480. Two years later his father was killed, fighting for the Venetians against King Ferdinand of Naples, and his widow was appointed guardian of Cajetan and his two brothers. The adorable example and teaching she gave her sons bore quick and abundant fruit, and Cajetan in particular was soon known for his unusual goodness. His love of prayer taught a constant recollection, and the application of his mind to eternal truths made him shun all loss of time in amusements or idle conversation: for no talk was interesting to him, unless it tended to raise the mind to God. His affections were accordingly sweetened into a loving charity towards all men, particularly the poor and all that were in affliction. He went for four years to the University of Padua where the long exercises of devotion which be daily practised were no hindrance to his studies, but sanctified them and purified his understanding, enabling him the better to judge of truth. He distinguished himself in theology, and brilliantly took the degree of doctor in civil and canon law in 1504. He then returned to his native town, of which he was made a senator, and in pursuance of his resolve to serve God as a priest he received the tonsure from the Bishop of Vicenza. Out of his own patrimony he built and founded a chapel-of-ease at Rampazzo, for the instruction and benefit of many on his mother’s estate there who lived at a considerable distance from the parish-church. In 1506 he went to Rome, not in quest of preferment or to live at court, but because of a strong inward conviction that he was needed for some great work there. Soon after his arrival Pope Julius II conferred on him the office of protonotary in his court, with a benefice attached. Happily the saint had the art to join interior recollection with public employments, and to live retired among distractions, for his office was no sinecure. He became, unconsciously, an expert consultor for the ecclesiastical authorities, who often confidently referred disputed questions to him, so wide and exact was his knowledge. Moreover, Venice having been attacked by the League of Cambrai on behalf of the Pope, he was active and successful in negotiating for reconciliation and peace. A contemporary, the Archbishop of Taranto, wrote: It is impossible to tell the difficulties, contradictions and tiresome obstacles which Cajetan had to meet and overcome. . . . The arduousness of the business was beyond description. . . . The Venetian ambassadors found in him great prudence, strong and impressive authority, opportune and wise counsels. . . .” On the death of Julius II in 1513 he refused his successor’s request to continue in his office, and devoted three years to preparing himself for the priesthood, for he was still only a cleric in minor orders; he was ordained in 1516, being thirty-three years old, and was in retreat for three months before celebrating his first Mass, at St Mary Major on Christmas day. He returned to Vicenza in 1518 to visit his dying mother.

Cajetan had joined, and perhaps founded, a confraternity in Rome, called “of the Divine Love,” which was an association of zealous and devout clerics who devoted themselves by pious exercises and regulations to labour with all their power to promote God’s honour and the welfare of souls. At Vicenza he now entered himself in the Oratory of St Jerome, which was instituted upon the plan of that of the Divine Love but consisted only of men in the lowest stations of life. This circumstance gave great offence to his friends, who thought it a reflection on the honour of his family. He persisted, however, and exerted his zeal with wonderful fruit. He sought out the most distressed persons among the sick and the poor over the whole town and served them with his own hands, and cared for those who suffered from the most loathsome diseases in the hospital of the incurables, the revenues of which he greatly increased. But his primary concern was for the spiritual life of the members of his Oratory; he gave them frequent conferences and encouraged them to frequent Communion, then not at all customary. He set them on fire with divine love and his fellow-citizens were proud to follow where he led. “In this Oratory,” he said, “we try to serve God by worship; in our hospital we may say that we actually find Him.” He founded a similar Oratory at Verona and then, in obedience to the advice of his confessor, John-Baptist of Crema, a Dominican friar of great prudence, learning, and piety, Cajetan went in 1520 to Venice, and taking up his lodgings in the new hospital of that city, pursued his former manner of life there. He was so great a benefactor to that house as to be regarded as its principal founder, though his chief care was to provide the sick with every spiritual help possible. It was the common saying at Rome, Vicenza, and Venice, that Cajetan was an angel at the altar and an apostle in the pulpit. He remained in Venice three years, and introduced exposition of the Blessed Sacrament in that city, as well as continuing the promotion of frequent Communion; “ I shall never be content till I see Christians flocking like little children to the priest to feed on the Bread of Life, and with eagerness and delight, not with fear and false shame,” he wrote.

The state of Christendom at this time was not less than shocking. The general corruption weakened the Church before the assaults of Protestantism and provided an apparent excuse for that revolt, and the decay of religion with its accompaniment of moral wickedness was not checked by the clergy, many of whom, high and low, secular and regular, were themselves sunk in iniquity and indifference. The Church was “sick in head and members.” The obscure friar John-Baptist of Crema saw this and was distressed; then he had an inspiration from God: he told his holy penitent Cajetan to go back to Rome and once again to associate himself with the Oratory of Divine Love there, the principal members of which were no less eminent for their learning and prudence than for their goodness. This he obediently did in 1523 and he deliberated with them on some effectual means for the reformation of life among Christians, grieving that the sanctity of religion should be so little known and practised by the greatest part of those that professed it. All agreed that this could not possibly be done otherwise than by reviving in the clergy the spirit and zeal of those holy pastors who first planted the Faith, and to put them in mind what this spirit ought to be, and what it obliges them to, a plan was formed for instituting an order of regular clergy upon the model of the lives of the Apostles. The first associates of St Cajetan in this design were John Peter Caraffa, afterwards pope under the name of Paul IV but at that time bishop of Theate (Chieti); Paul Consiglieri, of the family of Ghislieri; and Boniface da Colle, a gentleman of Milan. Those among them who had ecclesiastical livings asked Pope Clement VII for leave to resign them with a view of making such an establishment. His Holiness made great difficulties with regard to the Bishop, but at length gave his consent. The plan of the new institute was drawn up, laid before the Pope, and examined in a consistory of cardinals in 1524. In order to break down and avoid avarice, always fatal to the ecclesiastical order where it gets footing, and to establish in the hearts of those engaged in that state a spirit of disinterestedness and entire disengagement from the world, the founders wished it to be observed, not as a precept but as a counsel, that this regular clergy should not only possess no property but also should be forbidden to beg, content to receive the voluntary contributions of the faithful and relying entirely upon Providence. The cardinals objected, not unnaturally thinking it inconsistent with prudence. But their opposition was overcome by Cajetan, who urged that Christ and His apostles having observed this manner of life, it could be followed by those who were their successors in the ministry of the altar and of the word. But a clause was added, that if a community should be reduced to extreme necessity they should give public notice of their distress by tolling a bell. The institute therefore was approved by Clement VII and Caraffa was chosen the first provost general. From his episcopal name of Theatensis these clerks regular came to be distinguished from others as Theatines. On September 14, feast of the Exaltation of the Holy Cross, the four original members laid aside their prelatical robes and made their profession in St Peter’s in the presence of the papal delegate Mgr. Bonziano, Bishop of Caserta. The principal ends which they proposed to themselves were to preach sound doctrine to the people, assist the sick, oppose errors in faith, restore the devout and frequent use of the sacraments, and re-establish in the clergy disinterestedness, regularity of life, sacred studies (especially of the Bible), preaching and pastoral care, and the fitting conduct of divine worship.

They lived at first in a house in the Campo Marzio, which belonged to Boniface da Colle, but soon moved to another, on the Pincian, where their life and work attracted the attention of many visitors and several religious works were entrusted to them. But the success of the new congregation was not immediate, and in 1527, when it still numbered only a dozen members, a calamity happened which might well have put an end to it. The army of the Emperor Charles V, which was commanded by the Constable of France, marched from Milan to Rome, and took it by assault on May 6, 1527. The Pope and cardinals retired into the castle of Sant’ Angelo, while the German and other Catholic and Lutheran mercenaries plundered the city and were guilty of greater cruelties and excesses than had been committed by the Huns and Goths a thousand years before. The house of the Theatines was rifled, and almost demolished, and a soldier who had known St Cajetan at Vicenza as a member of a rich family, gave information to his officer to that effect; whereupon he was barbarously abused to extort from him the wealth which he had not got. After all had suffered great hardships he and his companions left Rome, with nothing but their breviaries and their clothes, and escaped to Venice, where they were kindly received and settled in the convent of St Nicholas of Tolentino. Caraffa’s term as general expired in 1530, and St Cajetan was chosen in his place. He accepted. the office with reluctance, but did not let its cares abate the energy with which he worked to inspire the clergy with his own fervour and devotion, and his charity was made most conspicuous during a plague which was brought to Venice from the Levant, and followed by a dreadful famine. Moved by his example, St Jerome Emilian founded another congregation of regular clerks, called Somaschi, from the place where they lived between Milan and Bergamo, the object of which was to bring up orphans and such children as were destitute of means of education, and Cajetan himself helped Jerome in his foundation. He was at this time also at work with Caraffa and others on the revision of the Divine Office, whose length and complication was a serious tax on busy priests.

At the end of the three years of office, Caraffa was made general a second time, and Cajetan was sent to Verona, where both the clergy and laity were tumultuously opposing the reformation of discipline which their bishop was endeavouring to introduce among them. He induced the people to see that the proposed reform was one of which they themselves would reap the advantage. Shortly after, he was called to Naples to establish the clerks regular there. The Count of Oppido gave him a large house for that purpose, and tried to prevail upon him to accept an estate in lands; but this he refused. In vain the Count, backed by the religious of the city, pointed out that the Neapolitans were neither so rich nor so generous as the Venetians. “That may be true,” replied Cajetan, “but God is the same in both cities.” A general improvement at Naples both in the clergy and laity was the fruit of his example, preaching, and labours, and he was foremost in the successful opposition to the activities of three apostates, a layman, an Augustinian, and a Franciscan, who, respectively Socinian, Calvinist, and Lutheran, were corrupting the religion of the people. In 1536 Caraffa was created cardinal by Paul III, and in 1540 Cajetan went back to Venice, being made general a second time; here he had again to cope with the Lutheran friar Ochino, whose errors were for a long time not recognized by the authorities. Then in 1543, at the request of its citizens, he returned to Naples, and governed the house of his order in that city until his death. During the last years of his life he established with Bd. John Marinoni the benevolent pawnshops (montes pietatis) sanctioned some time before by the Fifth Lateran Council. Worn out with trying to appease a civil strife which had broken out in Naples, and disappointed by the suspension of the Council of Trent from which he hoped so much for the Church’s good, Cajetan bad to take to his bed in the summer of 1547. When his physicians advised him not to lie on the hard boards but to use a mattress in his sickness, his answer was: “My Saviour died on a cross, allow me at least to die on wood.” He lingered for a week, the end coming on Sunday, August 7. Many miracles wrought by his intercession were approved at Rome after a rigorous scrutiny, and he was beatified by Urban VIII in 1629 and canonized by Clement X in 1671.

St Cajetan was one of the most outstanding figures among the pre-Tridentine Catholic reformers, and his institution of clerks regular, priests bound by vow and living in community but engaged in active pastoral work, played a very great part in the Counter-Reformation. Today, with the one tremendous exception of the Jesuits, all their congregations have been reduced to small bodies, but continuing their original life and work. Thomas Goldwell, Bishop of Saint Asaph and last survivor of the old hierarchy of England and Wales, was a Theatine, who entered their house of St Paul at Naples in the year of St Cajetan’s death.

The example of this saint displays that disinterestedness which Christ has laid down in His gospel. He teaches us that all inordinate desire or care for the goods of this world is a grievous evil prejudicial to Christian virtue; he impressed upon his followers in the strongest terms the duty of fighting against it, showing them how avarice steels the heart against charity and even common humanity, and excludes all true ideas of spiritual and heavenly things. Disinterestedness and contempt of the world, necessary in all Christians, is more essentially the virtue of the ministers of the altar: it formed the character of every holy priest. But it is not unknown for the idol of covetousness to find a place even in the sanctuary itself, to the scandal of the faithful and profanation of all that is sacred or good. New barriers have been often set up against this evil, but all become useless for those who do not try to ground their souls in the true spirit of the opposite virtue.

Saint Camillus De Lellis

FOUNDER OF THE CLERICS REGULAR, MINISTERS OF THE SICK

INDEX

THE WONDERFUL WAYS OF GOD

WE-exiles in a “valley of tears”-sometimes find it hard to realise the truths which, nevertheless, are deeply rooted in our hearts. Among these may be the feeling that is embodied in the words “Jesus Christ, the same, yesterday, and today, and forever.” But, now and then, across the pages of the world’s history flashes a light which reveals the unchanged and unchanging Heart of the God made Man for love of the sinful, the sick and the sorrowful creatures whom He loves to the end-not, alone to the end of His mortal life, but to the end of time-yes-and through the endless eternity.

So it is that many sweet, efficacious words of His go on doing their work all over the earth, as the years speed on. So it is that, occasionally, He raises up a saint, a specially beloved and enlightened disciple, to carry out in precept and in practice some special mission and to draw out the manifestations of the Saviour’s unaltered Will, to suit the needs of the present day. And this was the case when He called into being the great heart and ardent soul of St. Camillus de Lellis. Millions, perhaps, have incurred a lasting debt of gratitude to that heroic son of Italy, all unconscious of their benefactor. Thousands have been indebted to him for the health and life of the body, and the everlasting life of the soul. Countless are those who owe to his prayers and example the grace that enabled them to walk in his footsteps. And yet comparatively few know more about him than that his name is enrolled on the list of the canonised, in honour of his sanctified devotion to the service of the sick poor.

Therefore, we turn to the annals of the crowned servants of God, and reverently peruse the records of him who should fitly rank among the martyrs of charity.

A CHILD OF GRACE

This title is often given to those whose parents have lived for many years in expectation of a new life to gladden their home.

These parents are usually prayerful, patient, and full of trustful submission to God’s decrees. And we have good reason to believe that Camilla de Lellis-the mother of our Saint-was a woman of more than ordinary virtue. In fact, it is written of her that the birth of Camillus, “when his mother was nearly sixty-with grey hair and wrinkled face-procured for her from her wondering neighbours the glorious surname of St. Elizabeth”

She had earned that name, also, by her fervent piety, which shone more remarkably in the eyes of the world because she and her husband were descended from two of the most illustrious families in Abruzzo. Warriors and singularly learned men had honoured the long line of the descendants of the house of Lellis. Kings had been proud to avail themselves of the gifts which distinguished the ancestors of Giovanni-the father of Camillus- and he, considering it an imperative obligation to serve the kingdom to which he owed his extensive patrimony, was one of the foremost leaders of the Italian expeditions against the French and the Turks in the early part of the sixteenth century.

His wife, Camilla Compellio of Laureto, in Abruzzo, was nobly born and nobly endowed in a spiritual and temporal sense. It is related that “a few days before her son saw the light, she dreamed that she had given birth to a boy with a cross on his breast, who was followed by several children decorated in thesame way.”

At first Camilla was startled, fancying that these cross-bearers were forerunners of disasters for her child, but she so soon regained her usual peace that it is probable she was comforted by some supernatural insight into the future, some gleams from the distant days when her son and his consecrated followers would do battle, fearlessly armed with the Sign of the Cross, on his coveted battleground, the bed-side of the sick, the suffering and the dying.

On the 25th May, in the Holy Year, 1550, Camillus was given by God in answer to his mothers prayers. Two days afterwards, he was baptized in the Church of San Michele; Gentile, Baron of Toricella, and Simona, his wife, were the sponsors.

The baby was a true Italian, with olive skin and dark eyes, which afterwards became unspeakably soft and pitiful whenever suffering drew near him. He grew rapidly, much to the satisfaction of his father, who counted the years impatiently until the boy could stand by his side at the next summons to war.

DARK CLOUDS

Heavy, indeed, were the clouds that gathered over her setting sun for Camilla de Lellis. The custom in the family, and his father’s wish, determined that Camillus should be sent to school as early as possible. He was still but a mere child when he showed to the full the inheritance bequeathed to him by his forefathers. He was a poet and a soldier by nature; even his pious mother could lawfully delight in his gifts; but, unfortunately, he was soon led completely away into the company of some who admired and amused him, and who fostered his young vanity.

“Scarcely,” says his biographer, “had he learned to read and write before he gave himself up to cards and dice, and other amusements that worldlings seek. His only intellectual pleasure was the reciting of pastoral odes, etc., and in this he excelled- much to his vainglory.”

At Camilla’s advanced age, sorrow and care tell powerfully on the feeble frame. She sank rapidly, and died the death of a saint, when her son was just entering his fourteenth year. He grieved bitterly for her; however, we have no record of any change in his dispositions. On the contrary, when he was barely nineteen, he used all his persuasive influence with his father to offer his services to the Nobles of Venice against the Turks.

The old military enthusiasm woke up in Giovanni de Lellis, and the result was that he travelled with his son to Amona, with the intention of procuring a commission among the troops. But Giovanni had miscalculated his strength. He fell dangerously ill at the Castle of St. Lupidio, near the holy House of Loreto, and died there after a few days, deeply penitent for his sins and fortified by the last Sacraments.

Camillus afterwards acknowledged that his father’s death was by no means his greatest trial, for a personal misfortune befell him which touched him far more seriously. A slight scratch on his ankle brought on a festering sore. “I purposely mention this wound,” writes his biographer, “because it was the principal means which Providence used to heal his soul, by giving him an acquaintance with the hospitals, from which, we may say, our Congregation arose.”

A sharp attack of fever, as well as the continual pain, obliged him to dismiss the idea of joining the army. Even when he rallied, his convalescence was slow, and he lay listlessly on his couch for hours watching the travellers through Fermo, where he had been struck down on his journey home.

Lonely and weak, subject to repeated spasms of feverish irritation, the boy went through his first experience of what sickness is among strangers. He was not rich enough to purchase all the medicaments and attendance he wished for, and he was young enough to miss the tenderness and solicitude which money cannot buy. Probably, he often yearned for his gentle mother- probably that yearning brought back the holiest memories of his childhood. At all events he was ready to meet the touch of grace when, one day, he saw two Franciscan Friars on their way through the city. Exceedingly prayerful and exceedingly forgetful of earthly things, these Fathers seemed to him, as they walked quietly along with downcast eyes and closed lips.

Immediately, Camillus made an impetuous vow to dedicate himself to God in the Order of the Friars Minor. He knew a good deal of their manner of life; for his uncle, Father Paolo Lauretano, was Guardian of the Monastery of San Bernardino, at Aquila. This new resolve appeared to act like a charm on Camillus. He tried to shake off his languor and hurried away to Aquila. But Father Paolo was a prudent man. He feared that his nephew’s reformation was too sudden to be lasting. Besides, his health was uncertain, his leg continued to be troublesome, and how could a person of such doubtful promise be received into the rigorous and apostolic Order of the Franciscans? He was refused admittance and, at once, apparently heedless of his vow, he put away the impulse in a fit of annoyance at being rejected. THE PURSUIT OF THE GOOD SHEPHERD.

In spite of his waywardness, Camillus was an object of peculiar solicitude in the Eternal Mind of Him Who foresaw the future sanctity of the straying sheep. Again, the Good Shepherd calmly and earnestly pursued the soul that would yet lead multitudes to heaven in its train.

The wound in the injured leg broke out afresh, and Camillus, hearing that there were exceptionally skilful surgeons in the hospital of San Giacomo, in Rome, determined to try their treatment. We have no explanation of the fact noted-i.e., that “he placed himself in the hospital as a servant and stayed there for some months. He was not quite cured when he was dismissed by the superintendent for his violent temper, quarrelsome disposition and the unbridled passion for gambling which caused him to neglect the sick and remain indifferent to their sufferings.”

Although the cure was not satisfactory, he contrived to enrol himself in the service of the Venetian Republic, against which Selim, the Grand Sultan of the Turks, had declared war. “He held various offices, both naval and military, under this Government, and went through many dangers, both on sea and on land. In Corfu he was at the point of death, from fever, when, as he frequently affirmed, the Sacraments of Confession and Communion restored him to life.”

When this war ended, Camillus, in his thirst for glory, took service at the port of Naples, under the Spanish crown. Dangers of all sorts threatened his safety, but he invariably escaped death. At length, “during a voyage from Palermo to Naples, in a Neapolitan galley, such a storm arose that the passengers gave themselves up for lost, and Camillus, no less frightened than his companions, renewed his vow of taking the habit of St. Francis. This was on the 28th October, the day consecrated to the memory of the Apostles, Simon and Jude-the latter being immemorially invoked as the patron of almost hopeless cases.

Few were more hopeless and needy than Camillus when the shattered vessel drifted into the Bay of Naples. Carried away by his passion for gambling, he had “staked everything he possessed-his sword, his gun, his military cloak-until he left himself literally a beggar, and finally stood, hat in hand, at the door of a church in Manfredonia, craving alms as a distressed soldier.”

There, Signor Antonio di Nicastro offered Camillus employment as a labourer at the erection of the new Capuchin Church. The offer was met with a haughty refusal. Suddenly, however, the recollection of his vow glanced back into his mind, and just as suddenly he was impelled to associate himself with the Capuchins, by serving them. Signor Antonio’s forgiving charity introduced Camillus to the Father overseer of the works, “who put under his care two asses to carry stone, water and lime to the buildings.”

Thus began the victory over nature in this predestined soul; for, in good truth, the combat was one of continual humiliations and petty trials, as well as countless discomforts, galling beyond measure to the tenderly reared son of wealth and honours. Strange and sad it was that the impulse of divine grace quickly lost its influence, and that he endured all the toil and hardships of his lot in order “to gain a few crowns to enable him to return to his favourite gambling, and even to his soldier’s life, if he could manage it.” Despite his wilfulness, Camillus was being imperceptibly led on to the threshold of the wonderful task before him, and he was soon to beborne back to the fold of God’s chosen Guard of Honour.

He was sent on an errand to the Capuchins of the Castello di San Giovanni, and the Father Guardian, discerning the spiritual combat, was moved to win some confidence from Camillus and to suggest some maxims to him for driving away the tempter. There gentle words went straight to the heart of the impulsive Camillus, and he humbled himself so far as to beg a prayer from the priest.

An hour after, as he was riding home to Manfredonia, “a ray of heavenly light shone into his soul, and awakened in him such intense grief for his sins that his heart sank under the weight of his contrition. He dismounted impetuously, and, kneeling on the roadside, he exclaimed: “Wretch that I am-most miserable of beings! Why did I not know my blessed Lord? Why was I deaf to His entreaties? Why have I heaped offences on Him? Forgive me, gracious Lord, and grant me time to do penance!”

This penitent cry was ended by a renewal of his vow, a most efficacious renewal, for, from that day, 2nd February, 1575, his conscience never accused him of any mortal sin.

A TRUE PENITENT

So manifest was the conversion that the Fathers in Manfredonia permitted Camillus to commence the probationary period without delay. In ardent devotion, in incessant mortification, none surpassed him-nay, more, though penitent, he considered himself bound to crucify his body and mortify his hitherto rebellious will with unequalled severity. He begged to be accepted as a lay brother, shrinking from the thought that “one so unworthy might be advanced to the priestly dignity.” “And so, from day to day,” the chronicler tells us, “he advanced to perfection in virtue-chiefly in obedience and humility-till he was honoured by everyone with the name of the humble brother” It pleased God that, after a few months, his old wound should be brought on by the rubbing of the rough habit on his ankle, and it became so much worse that, with great regret, the Fathers decided that they could not retain him.

The days which followed this bitter disappointment were days of agony for Camillus. Then the hope sprang up that the surgeons of San Giacomo might cure a more submissive patient than he had been when he was formerly under their care. He lost no time in setting off for Rome, where he made such sincere atonement for the past that many were bewildered at the transformation of a sinner into a saint. By a special providence, he had for guide the wondrously gifted St. Philip Neri, under whose direction Camillus rose to the highest degree of holiness. His wound was healed after a martyrdom of four years, and the Franciscans gladly welcomed him to their novitiate.

No sooner did he put on the habit than the wound re-opened. All agreed that the Will of God was declared. He was not destined to be a Friar Minor. He was wanted elsewhere. And the Holy Spirit seemed to bid him go devote himself to the service of the sick in the hospital of San Giacomo for the Incurables.

The reception he met there was a delighted “welcome.” He was installed Superintendent, but none were as prompt in undertaking the lowliest services, none so indefatigable in caring for the most neglected and repulsive sufferers as Camillus-who had charge of all!

THE BEGINNING OF HIS LIFE-WORK

He had entered on his appointed mission at last, and the Beatitude-”I was sick and you visited Me”-seemed always shining before his eyes. No one knew better than Camillus how many grievances cried piteously for redress in the hospitals of the day. The poor were treated more like hunted and despised animals than like human beings. Careless, selfish attendants did as they pleased, day and night. Nourishment was sparingly given. Medicines were administered at random. Christian compassion was scanty. Worst of misfortunes-there were instances of priests who neglected their duty, so that the sick frequently wasted away and died without the consolations of religion and the Sacraments.

“Can I contend against such a crowd of evils?” was the ques tion Camillus put to himself one evening, standing in the principal ward of the hospital. The answer came like a whisper from heaven. A voice seemed to say: “Found a Congregation of pious men, who will tend thesick for the love of God, with the care of a mother for her sick child.”

From that instant we may date the origin of the Clerics Regular -in the year 1582, about the Feast of the Assumption-though Camillus only projected the establishment of a simple Congregation of laymen for the assistance of the hospitals in Rome.

He began by drawing down the blessing of God on his design. He spent whole nights on his knees, imploring light and strength for himself and his future companions. He redoubled his numerous practices of penance. Then, with a very anxious heart, he disclosed his longings to five persons connected with hospital work, in whom he had confidence. Such unction was imparted to his pleading that they declared their readiness to follow him “in life and death, in prosperity and adversity.” And, in spite of the opposition that was raised, even by virtuous men, the little band remained true to their promise.

They needed courage, indeed; for the guardians of the hospital, among them a future Cardinal, Monsignor Cusano, forbade even the little private meetings and devotions which Camillus and his friends had begun. They were most obedient in relinquishing their pious practices, but their charity and zeal continued as warm as ever and merited the signal favours granted to Camillus.

The same night Camillus, worn out with grief, fell asleep while he kept his nightly vigil before the Crucifix. As he slept he grew conscious of the infinite compassion of our Divine Lord. He thought he looked up at the Crucifix, and heard the words: “Fear not, O faint of heart! Go on trustfully! I will be with you, and will help you!”

Moreover, Our Lord deigned to renew and confirm this sublime encouragement: kneeling one day before the Crucifix, Camillus saw the Saviour’s Hands detach themselves from the Cross, and the whisper reached his ears: “Why are you troubled? This is My work, not yours. Persevere.”

Little wonder that the Saint grew confident of success, and that he addressed himself to one who could further his plans. This friend was Marc Antonio Coltselli, a penitent of the renowned St. Philip Neri. He entered warmly into Camillus’s views, and recommended them to the notice of Father Francesco Tarugi, of the Oratory, who exclaimed: “How useful such a Congregation would be intimes of pestilence!”

Camillus could restrain his enthusiasm no longer. He began with a preparation for the priesthood, and humbly applied himself to the rudiments of Latin under private tuition, supplemented by attending the classes at the Jesuit’s College. “It cannot be denied,” said his masters, “that this man has come late to school, but he will hasten on, and do great things in the Church.” This opinion was shared by the ecclesiastical authorities, and there was no hesitation in allowing Camillus to be ordained on Whit Sunday, 1584. Immediately after, the Governors of San Giacomo elected him chaplain of their little church near the Porta del Popolo, called “The Madonna dei Miracoli.”

FOUNDATION OF THE MINISTERS OF THE SICK

Of his first five confidants, only three helpers were now ready to put themselves into the hands of a leader, for Benigno had been transferred to another city, and Father Ludivoco Altobelli had been appointed Prior of the hospital of San Giovanni. There remained Bernardino Norcino, Curzio Lodi, and Father Francesco Profeta. These three were a host in the army of God, so eager were they to take up His yoke and bear the sweet burden of charity on their willing shoulders. After several consultations the four agreed to break entirely with the world; to leave the hospital of San Giacomo, where they would not be free to act as they wished; to put on the priestly cassock-thus making themselves as Christ’s Ministers of the sick-and to begin their new life in the hospital of San Spirito. This they did on the 16th September, 1584-from which date they occupied themselves wholly in the service of the sick “according to some short rules that Camillus had written.”

Their charity and zeal were so intense, that even the most active of ordinary nurses were soon outdistanced in skill and energy, as well as in Christlike tenderness, by Camillus and his disciples. Veneration was quickly roused, but so, too, were jealousy and ill-will. And, when this storm abated, a heavier trial befell them in the dangerous illness which prostrated Camillus and Curzio. It had been brought on by “excessive fatigue, unwholesome food, and insufficient clothing. Their beds were three mats, and the bed covering, two quilts. The room they slept in was on the banks of the Tiber, in a spot haunted by malaria.”

Camillus cheerily told them that Our Lord favoured them with this visitation, that they might learn, by their own infirmities, to “become masters in the school of suffering, and might come forth from it more zealous in feeling for, and assisting, their sick brethren.” It is pleasing to note that the Governors of San Giacomo cordially offered a room to Camillus, and Father Altobelli gave a brotherly reception to Curzio. Both recovered slowly, and, while they were still convalescent, returned to their daily toil in San Spirito.

As it would be “tempting Providence” to stay in their miser able rooms, Camillus thankfully used an unexpected alms to rent a house in the Via delle Botteghe. The report of the sanctity of Camillus and his companions attracted priests and laymen alike. The annalist goes on to say that “the Institute was so laborious, so repugnant to all natural inclinations, that some delayed, some abandoned the thought of it, and only a few remained-robust in body, inspired with true courage, enemies of themselves, and willing to die in any place, however filthy and infected, for the love of the Lord God.”

The first idea that guided Camillus was simply to lend the much-needed assistance to the hospitals of Rome. Gradually it dawned on him that his views should be extended, and that THE MASTER wished the whole world to benefit by the new step. It was disclosed to the future Founder that the principal object of the Order should be “to strengthen men in their last conflict, and console them in their mortal agony.”

Persons of every class began to crave the assistance of the “Members of the Congregation of Father Camillus,” for their sanctified attendance on the agonising. Appeals came from private houses and hostels of every grade-such reiterated appeals that Camillus, with the consent of his companions, ordained that whenever they were summoned by day or night the members should hasten to assist the dying.

This clause was inserted in the written rule, shortly before the death of Pope Gregory XIII., in April, 1585: Another consultation with the pioneers of the Order settled their future name-i.e.,”Ministers of the Sick,” also called “Clerics Regular.”

ONWARD AND HEAVENWARD

The first to pass onward into the eternal kingdom was Bernardino Norcino. From his youth he had been accustomed to self-denial, and his close union with God had glorified his poverty. Camillus came in contact with him when he was keeper of stores at San Giacomo. . Previously he had been a wood-seller. His habit of ejaculatory prayer had distinguished him from his childhood, and he used to spend the hours between the evening “Angelus” and midnight in uninterrupted devotions. His confessor asserted that Our Blessed Lord sometimes showed Himself to Bernardino in the consecrated Host, under the form of a lovely Child.

With all his piety, Bernardino was a bright, warmhearted toiler, and his coaxing ways made it almost impossible to refuse his requests. “God and man,” it was often said, “never turned a deaf ear to Bernardino.” The very moment he closed his eyes in death Camillus whispered, “He has gone straight to Heaven.”

Perhaps it was his intercession which obtained the astonishing influx of members. “Camillus thought it neither reasonable nor expedient that such a number should live together in community without the sanction of the Holy See.” He knew no dignitary of the Church who could present his petition to the Pope. But, meeting Cardinal Mondovi, by chance, he thought he saw so much benevolence in the kindly old Prelate, that he ventured to speak to his Eminence. His cause was won. The Cardinal readily undertook the presentation of the necessary documents. The Pope, who had frequently heard the praises of the “Ministers of the Sick” recommended the papers to the official examination, and so favourable was the report of the consultors that the congregation was approved on the 18th March, 1586, leave being given to the members to live together in poverty, chastity, and obedience, and the service of the sick and plague-stricken, not bound to this by vows, but freely and voluntarily. They were to be governed by a priest elected every three years from among the members. Camillus was unanimously chosen first Superior.

A special audience with the Holy Father was granted to Camillus. He begged Pope Sixtus to permit the members of the new institute to wear a cross of red cloth on their cassock and mantle; and the request, being referred to the Commission of the Bishops and Regulars, was considered “becoming and necessary. The brief confirming this decision was received by Camillus on the 26th June.

The founder’s next step was to seek a more commodious house, with a church attached. He particularly coveted the Church of St. Mary Magdalen, and in a while the charity of some friends secured it for him, as well as the adjoining houses-the entire acquisition being always looked on as the first house of the Order.

Not quite two years had elapsed before the Institute began to multiply itself. The first affiliation was established in Naples. The hospital for incurables in that city was in a lamentable state of neglect. The attempts which had been made at bringing some sort of order into it invariably proved failures. It was precisely the place to attract Camillus, and it was with unspeakable gladness he asked thirteen of his religious to go with him to that harvest-field. His appearance in it wrought an instantaneous change. Nobles and wealthy citizens caught the contagion of his charity, and thronged forward to assist the “Ministers of the Sick.” No service was too difficult or too disgusting for that noble band, headed by Camilus and his priests. Ladies of rank and wealthy matrons protested that they should not be excluded from the blessed ministrations. Hence, it came to pass that the most destitute and most repulsive sufferers were now the most carefully tended, and a chorus of grateful praise ascended to heaven for the miraculous efficacy given to the example and teachings of the beloved Father Camillus de Lellis.

Undoubtedly, the guardian angels of Naples had led him there to confront the angel of death, for a fleet from Spain brought troops who were discovered to be so fearfully a prey to pestilence that the vessels were sent for quarantine to Pozzuoli. The men were taken ashore to the hospital of the Annunziata, and there they died in multitudes. Camillus had returned to Rome, but five of his religious hurried off from the new convent at Naples to the service of the dying soldiers. Awful scenes awaited them, more than they could contend with. Others joined them in haste, and all laboured with superhuman fortitude. It was only when they had laid their poor sufferers to rest in the arms of God that they, too, were struck down by the scourge, and the crown of such a martyrdom of faith and love was granted to three of the brave combatants of Christ’s own legions.

Nevertheless, “the seed that was cast into the earth, yielded fruit a hundredfold.” Postulants continued to implore admission into the Congregation. The greater number were trained to be angels of mercy by the master-hand of the Founder. Some died with the joy of angels shining in their bright faces, for the guide of their religious life had succeeded in teaching the grand maxim of absolute rest in the sovereign Will above them.

“A LIVING SAINT.”

The voice of Rome persisted in giving that title to Camillus, while he, sinking into the depths of his humility, forgot his countless deeds of marvellous charity, and put his undivided trust in the mercy of God and the Precious Blood of Christ. “Lord,” he often exclaimed, “Thy Blood must save me.” He seemed to expect, from hour to hour, the summons to appear at the judgment seat, saying, sometimes, that he lived in the world as in an inn, where a man lodges for the night and departs next morning. “When I think of death,” he once said, “I tremble and betake myself to the poor sick, to beg them to intercede for me.” Yet, again, he was frequently seen transported with divine love, his face shining with joyous light, and his body lifted lightly from the ground, as if following his spirit to the land that he drew so close to by his lively faith. Often and often, while saying Mass, he was rapt in ecstasy, and was with difficulty recalled to himself. And then this glowing love, craving an outlet, incited him to make all speed to go and gain as many souls as possible for God.

“He occasionally preached in the public places of Rome, for no one ventured to lay restrictions on him who was so universally revered and loved. Who could deny veneration to Camillus? His eyes, we are told, were divinely illuminated to behold in the countenances of the most wretched invalids the gracious lineaments of the King of Glory,” so he hung over them in rapture with strange, tender words of delight, which showed that he was completely absorbed in contemplating the living images of the Crucified.

“Naturally,” writes his biographer, “he was inclined to melan choly, but when in the hospital he seemed to change his nature, communicating to the place the joy which radiated from him. His presence alone refreshed and comforted the weariest and most afflicted. The more menial the services to be rendered, the greater his gaiety, and while cleansing the patients or dressing their loathsome sores, he felt himself, as he declared, “in an earthly Paradise.””

The day was too short for him, as he enlightened and purified their souls, at the same time as he was their most diligent physician and nurse. Heaven will yet reveal how many he led to repentance, how many died the death of the predestined in his arms. The hospital was his home. “He no longer lived in himself, but Jesus Christ and his poor lived in him.”

In his exhortations to his religious, the everrecurring theme was, “Love, ardent, self-annihilating love for our own special ministry. Readiness to die, readiness to live in abjection and toil for those whom we serve. Readiness to be as slaves to them.” And his brethren knew well that he asked nothing of them that he did not daily practise with undiminished fervour.

Supernatural knowledge was constantly vouchsafed to the Saint. Power was bestowed on him to read the consciences of the dying. Instances are preserved of patients who were on the point of dying in mortal sin or without the Sacraments, when Camillus was interiorly warned of their danger, and brought them into the path of salvation.

He gave no truce to his supplications, while he busied himself externally. He said, “The hospitals are an inland sea, but the recommendation of the dying is a shoreless ocean, for it is world wide.” The spiritual veils that hide the beauty and value of souls seemed, in his case, to be withdrawn, so unutterably intense were his strivings to secure their eternal salvation. He repeatedly dwelt on the injunction of St. Philip Neri, “Persevere, Father, in this holy office of charity to the dying, for I tell you for your comfort, that I have seen the angels of the Lord putting words into the mouths of one of your Fathers while he was recommending the soul of a dying man, at whose deathbed I, also, was present.”

The Saint’s charity embraced the wide circle of the forlorn poor of every condition, and he confessed that his sharpest trial was to be without means of relieving them. Kind friends were liberal to the holy petitioner, and it was scarcely creditable what an amount of alms passed through his hands. Few could resist him when he whispered softly, “Blessed is he that thinks upon the poor and needy-the Lord will deliver him in the evil day- the day that decides his eternity.” The bashful poor were exceedingly dear to him; he found many precious pearls of holiness among these patient, silent sufferers. Nor did he forget the prisoners. How could he-as his contrition continually renewed the remembrance of the wanderings of his early days?

Even animals, when illtreated, or in pain, roused the Saint’s affectionate pity for distress. “In the Isle of Ischia he found a dog with a broken leg. He fed it every day while he stayed there, and on leaving he begged the servant to attend to the maimed creature, adding, “This dog is one of God’s creatures. I, too, have a bad leg, and I know the misery of not being well able to walk.”

Seldom, indeed, did he mention the incessant torture he bore from the inflamed and bleeding sore. He was such a lover of penance, that he called the five chronic infirmities which never left him at ease-”the five mercies of God” to him. And, instead of looking on them as reasons for dispensation, he heaped mortification on his hardly-tried body.

He ate so little that his fast was never relaxed. He never yielded to his thirst, though this was a more than ordinary trial. He disciplined himself every day, wore a haircloth, and a tight steel chain around his waist. He allowed himself very scanty sleep, and often spent the night watching the sick, or in prayer before his beloved Crucifix.

And his responsibilities grew heavier with the rapid increase of members, as Italy began to appreciate at its full worth the blessing which had been granted in the foundation of the “Ministers of the Sick.”

NEW FOUNDATIONS

We have spoken of the first filiation of Santa Maria, Porta Coeli, at Naples. The renown of that monastery awoke attention everywhere, and the authorities at Bologna begged Cardinal Paleotti, their Archbishop, to ask Camillus for a similar convent. Camillus answered that there were not enough priests and that few of those who wished to join his congregation had the pecuniary means of studying for the priesthood.

If your congregation were erected into an Order, I am cer tain many priests would join it,” said the Cardinal. “Do you wish this to be forwarded?”

Camillus gave a thankful consent. But before any formal decree could be issued Pope Sixtus died. It was reserved to Pope Gregory XIV. to set the solemn seal on the life work of Saint Camillus.

In the interval, fresh glorious manifestations of the self-sacrificing spirit of the congregation had gone on under the eyes of the ecclesiastical tribunals of Rome. First-a deadly disease broke out among the poor velvet-weavers on the Quirinal Hill, and, but for the indefatigable exertions of the “Ministers of the Sick,” there was little doubt that this plague would have wrought havoc in the city.

Secondly-a season of far-reaching famine was the prelude to a pestilence which carried off thousands. Through the horrors which surrounded him, Camillus went to and fro as if gifted with miraculous strength and miraculous powers. Food, wine and medicine were multiplied in his stores and in the stores of those who besought his blessing on their charitable provision. Numbers of unprejudiced witnesses gave testimony to the renewal of the nourishment for the sick by unseen hands and affirmed that no sooner had the last drops in the wine-barrels been drained, than, immediately, a richer flow mounted to the brim.

Still, the Saint laboured and economised, and regulated the distribution of the supplies with unwearied diligence. Five of his spiritual children died of the fearful disease which carried off three thousand of their patients in the hospital of St. Sixtus. The fury of the pestilence raged for many weeks, and then there was a sudden cessation.

The reward that Camillus and his religious so richly deserved was at last granted by the Sovereign Pontiff. The Bull that confirmed the Order, and enriched it with various privileges, was published on the 21st of September, 1591, and, on the following Feast of the Immaculate Conception, Camillus and a chosen number of his companions made their profession.

In June, 1594, Camillus set out for Milan and Genoa to found other houses of the Order. The following year Pope Clement VIII. asked Camillus to send a number of the Ministers of the Sick with the Italian troops on their way to recover Stringonia, in Hungary. The eight members who were appointed did glorious service on the battlefields and in the hospitals.

In 1596, a house of the Order was founded at Bologna. Moreover, demands poured in on Camillus from various quarters, He attended first to the request from Florence, then to Ferrara, Messina, and Palermo. The city of Nola hailed the “Ministers of the Sick” as their truest friends during the awful plague of 1600.

Camillus was the moving spirit through all. Besides that, he was engaged in preparing new and more explicit statutes for the better government and discipline of the Order. These were carried into effect at the end of the year 1600.

For seven laborious, fruitful years the founder bore the chief burden; and feeling that old age and increasing infirmities made urgent war on his brave spirit, he resigned the office of General of the Order. His circular letter has been preserved:- “Very Rev. Fathers,-To my great joy, I have resigned the Generalship; I hope it will be for the glory of God, the good of the Order, and my own good in particular. You must unite with me in thanking the Lord, and in praying that I may reap the fruit from this step which our Blessed Saviour wills. I, still remain to you the loving father that I always was. God bless you.

“Your Reverences” Brother in Christ,

“CAMILLUS DE LELLIS

“Rome, 14th October, 1607.”

A BLESSED EVENTIDE

“Now,” said the Saint, on the day of his resignation, “I have nothing else to do but to bewail my sins before God, to unite myself perfectly to Him, to fill my sack with such good works as I am permitted to attempt, and to be prepared for judgment.”

Freed from responsibility, he felt himself bound to unsparing labour as a simple member. “Our Father Camillus,” wrote a brother from Milan, “is wonderfully well, and thinks so little of himself that we admire him beyond words. The amount of work he goes through is astonishing. He is on guard every night, and never sleeps more than four hours. He preaches every day to the poor, with his beloved crucifix in his hand. He does everything, spiritual and temporal, for the sick and dying, never leaving many of them till he lays them in the coffin.”

In thoughtfulness and in minute observance of the numberless lesser wants and wishes of the sufferers Camillus was still pre-eminent. He hid the signs of his failing health sedulously until a proposal was forced on him by the consultors that he should carry out a visitation of the house of the Order at Genoa. He completed the visitation and sent his report to the consultors, adding, as if chiding them for having appointed him to a position of implicit, if only temporary, superiority, “It is time that I should attend to my own soul; and this, not in order to avoid fatigue, but for the glory of His Divine Majesty, my own salvation, and that of the Order.”

It was “the beginning of the end.” He was his own cheerful self among his patients, but they noticed that now “he often had to drag himself from bed to bed by the help of his hands.” They begged him to be merciful to the agony he must be enduring, but hehushed them smilingly with his familiar words, “My children I am your willing servant. I will do all I can to serve you.”“ One of the Fathers wrote, “I do not know what more the most loving parents could do for an only child than Father Camillus did for each of our patients in San Spirito. You would imagine that all this care and interest was wrapt up in the life of each poor man whom he hung over, and that he had no present thought for anything else on earth. Two or three times he fell down from fatigue, and even his life was in danger.”

As months glided by, the rapid decline was visible. His abhorrence for eating became insurmountable; the wound extended nearly round his leg, it was putrid, corrosive, and deep; yet the woman who washed the bandages, which were saturated with matter, said that they bore a sweet fragrance-evident token of his great sanctity.

Internal diseases were also manifesting themselves. In spite of these sufferings, he consented through obedience when the Fathers entreated him to come and lend some aid to the houses in Abruzzo; for through that district, especially in his native Bocchianico, hundreds were dying of famine. He went, and an enduring memory exists of the uncounted miracles that followed his presence and his prayers. The houses of the Order, which had multiplied through Italy, longed for a visit from the Founder, but Camillus knew that he had barely time to return to Rome to die.

So exhausted did he appear after the fatigue of his journey, that it seemed a risk to indulge his yearning to give a last pledge to the hospitals. He was helped into San Spirito-and could hardly tear himself away, “God knows,” he said, “how gladly I would stay here, but as obedience tears me from you, my heart will be with you.”

On the 1st May, 1614, he asked for the last anointing. The next day he was told that the doctors might be able to prolong his life, though he could not recover. He answered cheerfully, in the words of the Psalm, “I rejoice at those things that are said to me. We shall go intothe House of the Lord.”

He used his remaining strength in writing to beg prayers for his happy death, wherever he relied on obtaining them. But he had not counted on the response-the crowds who hastened to get a last blessing from the dying Saint. Still, his soul was so closely united to the fast approaching eternity, that the kindly glance, the short, kind farewell that he would not refuse while he had the least influence to be used for God, were scarcely interruptions to his unbroken intercourse with the Best Beloved above.

He had had a picture painted, which hung before him during these waning hours. It showed the crucifix with angels on either side holding golden chalices to catch the Blood that flowed from the sacred wounds. The Blessed Virgin and St. Michael were at the foot of the cross. Between them, at the instance of the Saint’s confessor, the artist represented Camillus kneeling and uttering the words of the “Te Deum”: Spare Thy servant whom Thou hast redeemed by Thy Precious Blood.

Saturday, 12th July, found him sinking slowly. He spoke as an angel might speak of the love and hope that gladden the deathbed. “I will come to Thee, O Lord,” he often said. “Not when I please but when Thou pleasest.” The next day his acts of faith were almost continual, still retaining his favourite aspirations, “I pray Thee, O Eternal Father, to pardon and save me, through the Precious Blood of Thy Son.”

Monday dawned -his last day on earth. Mass was said in his room as usual. A strangely solemn Mass it was, for the Saint twice prayed aloud, “Pray, pray earnestly, that the Lord may save me!” And again, at the Elevation,he cried, “O Lord! have mercy on me, through Thy Precious Blood!”

At midday he made an effort to join in the “Angelus,” and, finding that his tongue wa s nearly paralysed, he begged the Fathers to replace each other in saying prayers and litanies beside him. Evening saw him lingering in peace and prayer. At 10 o‘clock, P.M., he suddenly stretched out his arms in the form of a cross. The attendants began the recommendation of the soul departing, and with the words, “Most Precious Blood! Jesus! Mary! Adorable Trinity! St. Michael!” on his lips, he lay gently back, and closed his eyes for ever, with a happy smile, while the Father Minister pronounced the invocation, “May Jesus Christ appear to thee with a mild and cheerful countenance.” The Saint, whose crown was brilliant with charity’s purest gold, stood in the presence of Him who had guided His faithful servant through many thorny ways by the appealing petition for the sorrowing, “Whatsoever you do for the least of these, you do it unto Me.”

It was the 14th July, 1614-the sixtyfifth year of the Saint’s life, and the fortieth after his conversion. He was canonised by Pope Benedict XIV., who ordered that his feast should be kept on the 18th July.

HISTORY OF THE ORDER

During the seventeenth century, war, famine and death wrought frightful havoc throughout Europe. The much-dreaded plague proved especially disastrous; and fearful was the toll demanded by death. In some of the cities entire streets lay deserted, while populous villages became desolate. The cause of this havoc was the absolute helplessness of medical science and the lack of a sense of social responsibility on the part of those able to lend assistance. St. Camillus had foretold that a future period would prove the necessity and importance of the Order. His prophecy came true. The work accomplished by the Order during the widespread epidemics in the large cities of Italy, forms one of the most thrilling chapters in the history of Christian charity. Miracles of sacrifice and self-abnegation were wrought; the Order offered its best members. In more than one instance its very existence seemed at stake, so completely had its monasteries been depopulated in the service of humanity. A few facts will serve to sketch a faint picture of the activities of the Order during the times of the pestilence.

Even during the life-time of the Saint, a number of his spiritual sons had sacrificed their lives in the combat against the disease, as in Rome, in Naples, and Nola. In 1624, eleven religious died in Palermo, victims to their labours of love in nursing the plague-stricken. During the epidemic of 1630, following the Mantuan war of Succession, the death-toll was exceptionally great, and ten Camillians lost their lives. Milan was still more terribly visited by the plague. The overcrowded hospitals, the hospital colonies beyond its walls, were totally unequal to the task demanded of them. Of the fifty Camillians who there exercised the duties of their calling, twenty succumbed. The most illustrious among the victims of the plague was Brother Olimpio Nofri. When the plague had broken out, he asked as a special favour, that he might be permitted to nurse the sick. He remained at his post of duty day and night almost without interruption. When he noticed positive symptoms of the Black Death in himself, he asked for the Last Sacraments, without even retiring to bed. He still continued his labours until he dragged himself to the cemetery, where, by a supreme effort of his waning strength, he dug his own grave and cast himself beside it, clasping the cross of the Order in his hands. His companions finding him in this condition wished to carry him home, but he resisted,saying: “Do not approach me, I am covered with ulcers and am about to die. Hasten to the aid of those who are in need of you. Let me die, alone with my Saviour.” He then begged them that after his death they should roll his body into the grave and cover it with clay.

Father Marapodio displayed similar heroism. During the period of the plague he was untiring in his priestly ministrations. When he became afflicted by the malady, he still laboured on until his strength failed him. Then he returned home, through streets where death-like stillness reigned. Finding the rooms vacant and forsaken, he supposed all had fallen victims of the plague. He then dragged himself to the church, received Holy Communion and also consumed all the consecrated particles. Some members of the Community, returning, found him lifeless at the foot of the altar, with his face turned to the floor, his arms extended wide.

Nurses for the plague-stricken had been sent from Rome to Bologna. The municipal authorities offered a salary for the services rendered, but the Fathers declined to accept any remuneration. The council then appealed to the Fathers that they should accept complete charge of the entire health situation. Only upon the explicit wish of the Papal Delegate, they acceded to this request. The Superior, Father Zatio, being appointed governor and health commissioner, ordered the streets to be cleaned, the corpses to be removed from the homes and public places, where many had been permitted to lie about; he even provided for careful disinfection. In the accomplishment of these most opportune functions, his brethren nobly supported him, without, however, neglecting their priestly duties and the care of the sick.

In Florence, too, death demanded its toll. Five members of the Order died nursing the sick. In the cities of Lucca, Modena and Rome the labours and zeal were similar, but the victims and losses as well.

In 1656 and 1657 the most important cities of Italy were again visited by that dread scourge of God. In Naples, where the municipal authorities had done little toward checking the epidemic, the care of the sick became exceedingly difficult, and the death-toll became alarmingly great. Some of the Camillians served the plague-stricken in the hospitals, and pesthouses; others had parishes or sections of the city assigned to them. The chronicler of the Order makes mention of one hundred priests, who, at that period, lost their lives, and the number of Brothers was probably as great again. The Genoese Abate Merello records that so many Camillians at that time sacrificed their lives in the cause of charity, that their houses in Genoa were nearly depopulated. “Even the novices proved worthy of the traditions of the Order, and ten of them sacrificed their young lives to God.”

In 1732 several Fathers died in Rome, as victims to their calling, while, in 1734, during the plague in Messina, twelve Fathers, two Brothers and eight novices died within a few months as martyrs of charity.

Thanks to the marked developments in hygiene, Europe has not again experienced such ravages by the plague. Instead, however, other infectious diseases took their toll, like the cholera during the nineteenth century. In Italy, the Camillians were the first nurses and chaplains in the “cholera hospitals.” A great amount of charitable work was done, particularly in the years 1832, 1835, 1837, 1839, 1854, 1855, 1866, 1867, 1873, 1884, 1887. The cities of Genoa, Naples, Rome, Messina, Palermo, Cattano, Verona, Padua. Torino, Casale, and Cremona were scenes of the activity of the Camillians. On these occasions also great numbers died as victims to their calling. Prominent in Rome was Father Augustine Lana, renowned for his patriotic and theological researches; in Naples, Father Raphael Danise, Bishop of Casano, at the outbreak of the cholera left his Episcopal See and laboured as a simple Camillian in the lazarettos of the plague-stricken. The sacrifices required of the ministers of the sick were enormous; sacrifices of young, noble, precious lives, offered for humanity. Still the records of the Order show a rapid growth. In all cities of importance in Italy, the Order erected establishments soon after the plague. In Sicily alone it numbered seventeen convents and two novitiates. From Italy it spread into Spain. In 1634, the first convent was founded in Madrid and became a vast centre for the care of the poor and convalescent. Other foundations with the same end in view were made in Alcala, Sáragossa, Barcelona, Cordova, Murviedro, Buytrago, Santa Cruz de Mudela and Valencia. In 1750 a new Province arose in Portugal.

The Motherhouse in Spain caused the first convent in South America to be founded in 1712, in Lima, the capital of Peru. There the Fathers soon became known and appreciated, under the title: “Fathers of a Happy Death.” In the course of some decades, other foundations were added to the Motherhouse- e.g., in Popogani, Arequipa, Quamanga, Quito, Quayquillo Truxillo and elsewhere. During the time of the struggle for independence in Callao, occurred the death of Father Maria Lux, a martyr to the seal of the confessional.

About the middle of the eighteenth century, the Order numbered approximately ninety foundations, with fifteen novitiates. About this time, a Community of religious women, under the Camillian Rule, came into being, with Camilla Grimaldi as their foundress. At the time of the war of liberation, Oblate Sisters of St. Camillus were actively engaged in the many lazarettos, meriting for themselves profound gratitude from the allied rulers of Austria, Prussia and Russia. Two separate branches of Camillian Sisters are active in Italy-the one with a Motherhouse in Lucca; the other, called “Daughters of St. Camillus,” with a Motherhouse in Rome. The latter have sixteen foundations; of which eleven are in Italy and five in South America.

In 1869 the Camillians gained a footing in France. The rapid progress of the early years in that country was only checked by the antiCatholic laws of the “eighties. Today, at Lyons and at Angers, the Camillians exercise their ministry in hospices for the sick and incurable; at Theoule, in maintaining and serving a convalescent home at Marbach, where a well-equipped preventorium for boys in ill-health is in their charge; and at Niederviller, in caring for alcohol sufferers. At Arras, they visit the hospitals and provide meals for two hundred poor each day. The Province has its novitiate and juniorate houses in Belgium-in Tournai and Exaerde respectively.

It is in the French Province that the nucleus of the first English-speaking foundations is being formed. In a few years Ireland and Great Britain will have their Camillian houses, and will have occasion to appreciate the sublime ministry of the Order of the Red Cross.

The Order at the present day is composed of six provinces- the Roman, Piedmontese, Lombardo-Venetian, French, German and Spanish-having houses in nine European countries, and in three American. It exercises both the spiritual and corporal ministry in twenty-four institutions under its complete control- hospitals, clinics, sanatoria, hospices and dispensaries. In addition, the Camillians exercise the spiritual ministry in sixty public hospitals. In Lima (Peru), for example, the spiritual ministry of all the hospitals is entrusted to them, and, in Berlin, of nearly all.

The Camillian Rule has remained as laid down in the Bull, “Illius pro gregis,” of Gregory XIV., and in the Bull, “Suprema dispositione,” of Clement VIII., except for some modifications, subsequently authorised by the Holy See. After one year’s novitiate, the simple vows of poverty, chastity and obedience are pronounced, as well as the fourth vow, to serve the sick, even the plague-stricken. Three years afterwards the vows are renewed in solemn profession.

The Camillian vocation comprises both the spiritual and corporal care of the sick and afflicted. The priests of the Order do the spiritual ministry, and the Brothers provide for the corporal needs of the sick. In order, however, that both may fulfil the obligation of their fourth vow, the duties of the priests include some of the corporal works of mercy, and the Brothers exercise some functions of the spiritual ministry, such as, for example, preparing the sick for the reception of the Sacraments. Mention must be made of one of the many privileges accorded by the Holy See to the Order: that of the Portable Altar.

Happy the sick in whose town or district there is a Camillian convent. In the hospitals and institutions under their charge, the Camillians have the unique privilege of saying Mass on a portable altar; they exercise the same privilege in private houses, in the sick-room, by consent of the diocesan authorities.

St. Camillus exercised his heroic zeal in the hospitals, in private houses, and even in visiting the prisons. His sons carry on that work today, and seek to extend the embrace of their charity to every race and condition of men. That God will provide the means, in the sanctity of the members and in the increase of vocations, is their earnest prayer.

With the aim of propagating the devotion to St. Camillus, the Order publishes a number of reviews in different languages. For Englishspeaking readers “The Camillian Post” provides an exact and interesting source of information concerning the Order and its activities.

THE FIRST RED CROSS

We are all more or less familiar with the work of the modern Red Cross organisations, especially with its efficient efforts in succouring the wounded and dying soldiers on the battlefields in the recent World War. Even the schoolchildren are annually reminded of its ideal when they participate in the sale of Red Cross stamps. Yet, if we were asked to explain the origin of the idea of the Red Cross, we would have to trace it to the sixteenth century, to a Catholic source-to the great heart and vigorous mind of the Saint who conceived it. The work of his biographers and disciples, Cicatelli and Dolera, proves that to Saint Camillus is due the credit of the first organised Red Cross in war, and that to this same great saint the idea of the first Field Ambulance can be readily traced.

The distinguishing badge Camillus chose for his Order to wear upon their black habits was a Red Cross, similar to those used by modern Red Cross organisations. When Camillus chose the Red Cross for his followers, it was to him the military sign of the Crusaders: he himself had done battle against the Turk. It has come down to us through the wars of nearly four centuries, borne on the habits of his spiritual sons, who have, meanwhile, carried it on to almost every battlefield of Europe, and, finally, into the French, Belgian, Italian and German trenches of our own day, in the World War.

To give a few instances of the aid rendered by the Camillians on the battlefield, we quote from Cicatelli: “In the year 1595 Pope Clement sent some Italian troops into Hungary to recover Strigonia, and thought proper to supply them with some of our religious to take care of the sick and dying soldiers, besides their other clergy-that is, in modern language, a Field Ambulance, composed of members of a nursing Order, as well as the usual military chaplain. So it is plain that the first Field Ambulance dates back to the sixteenth century, and was the result of the efforts of St. Camillus to succour the wounded soldiers on the battlefield. They fulfilled their task with the greatest possible advantage to the sick, wounded, and dying soldiers. Not content with administering the Sacraments to them, and recommending their souls, they also did everything they could for them in the hospitals of Vienna, Convare, Ala, Possonin, and in the tents under the walls of Strigonia; in the boats and in the waggons, during the march, exposed to the wind, the cold, and the rain, with a diligence and attention always increasing in proportion to the distress of those who were suffering.

In 1601, Pope Clement and Ferdinand, Grand Duke of Tuscany, resolved to send some Italian troops to recover Canizza, a place of importance in Croatia, which had been a little before taken by the Turk. Both asked Camillus for some of our religious to take care of the sick and dying soldiers. Eight were given to the Pope and five to the Grand Duke, and the two parties fulfilled perfectly their appointed task, labouring without rest, and undergoing such fatigues, that one priest of each party died. . . .”

One more instance, out of many, of the Camillians” services on the battlefield: At Solferino, in 1859, when 40,000 men were put out of action in one day-to say nothing of those who died of fever and thirst-there were 100 Camillians, scattered between Verona, Mantua and Cremona, who applied themselves to relieve so much suffering. The Red Crosses on their black habits must have been seen by Henry Dunant many times, as he witnessed all the horrors of the battle. It was after this battle that the meritorious Swiss philosopher wrote his book, “A Souvenir of Solferino,” published at Geneva in 1862, in which he cried out in horror to the whole world, and, as a result awakened the governments to use the great means at their disposal to organise an international association for the succouring of the wounded in war. And, says Mrs. Ernest Oldmeadow, in her book, “The First Red Cross”: “When the Red Cross was chosen by the Genevan Conference as the symbol of the organisation, it is to be regretted that no acknowledgment was made by Henry Dunant of the Catholic source from which the idea was drawn.” But the official world, at least, recognised the work of the Camillians, as the following quotation, from Giacoma’s book, “Precursori della Croce Rossa,” shows:. . . . .On this occa.- sion the Emperor of Austria expressed to their Superior, Father Camillus Bresziani, through his delegate, Tordis, his full and sovereign satisfaction and his admiration of the Order of St. Camillus for its truly meritorious services, full of utter self-sacrifice, during the late war. . . . .” The official Gazette of Verona, for January 7, 1860, rendered a similar tribute of praise and thanks.

In 1886, Pope Leo XIII. declared Saint Camillus Patron, in the universal Church, of the Sick and of Hospitals. And, in 1930, Red Cross workers acclaimed with joy the decision of Pius XI. in declaring him patron of all who nurse the sick.

In order to acknowledge his idea of the Red Cross-the sign of the Redemption, in the colour of Our Lord’s Precious Blood- as our strength and support in suffering, and as an incentive to acts of charity, the Holy Father has granted to the priests of the Order of St. Camillus the privilege of bestowing a special blessing on Red Crosses, of a small size, which are known as the “Little Red Crosses of St. Camillus.”

CHRONOLOGY

1550 Birth of Camillus.

1575 His conversion.

1582 Camillus receives inspiration to found Congregation.

1584 Camillus is ordained priest and founds the Congregation.

1586 Congregation confirmed by Sixtus V. and permission given to wear the Red Cross.

1591 Congregation erected into an Order; Camillus and his Companions pronounce their vows.

1614 Death of St. Camillus.

1742 Benedict XIV. issues Decree of Beatification.

1746 Canonisation of St. Camillus.

1886 Leo XIII. declares St. Camillus Patron of the Sick and of Hospitals.

1905 Pius X. grants privilege of the Portable Altar to the Camillians.

1930 St. Camillus declared Patron of Health Services and of all who assist the Sick.

Nihil Obstat:

J. Donovan,

Censor Deputatus.

Imprimatur:

@ D. Mannix,

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis.

********

Saint Cataldus

INDEX

AMONG THE SCATTERED BIOGRAPHIES OF OUR IRISH SAINTS THERE ARE FEW THAT CLAIM A DEEPER INTEREST, OR PRESENT A MORE FASCINATING OR INSTRUCTIVE CHAIN OF INCIDENTS THAN THE LIFE-TALE OF ST. CATALDUS. AND YET THERE IS NONE, WE VENTURE TO THINK, OF THAT LONG LINE OF HEROIC APOSTLES WHOSE NAMES FILL OUR NATIONAL CALENDARS, OF WHOM LESS IS KNOWN IN THE COUNTRY OF HIS BIRTH.

Far away in that sunny land of Southern Italy where the white-capped waves of the Adriatic break upon the shingly beach, there is an olden city, whose domes and towers and long lines of roofs, grown russet and brown with the shadows of centuries, where the memory of Cataldus of Ireland is preserved as lovingly and as freshly as in that faroff day when its citizens chose him for their patron, and dedicated their noblest temple to his honour. This is the proud city of Tarantum, which gives its name to the land-locked gulf of the Adriatic Sea. In its period of classic glory it seemed to rival Imperial Rome, and in the vastness of its commerce and the fame of Tarantum’s industries and manufactures it once vied with the famous but fated cities of Sidon and Tyre.

It is, indeed, strange in the paths of history as we trace the footprints of our wandering Irish apostles, that here in this distant foreign city we find the narratives of the life, legends, and miracles of this seventh century Saint handed down as a precious heirloom from sire to son, while at home in the land that bore him, his name and existence awaken little more than the faintest echoes of dim tradition. As our story is unfolded, this reflection-regretful thought as we may call it-cannot fail to suggest itself to our Irish readers as it does to us.

Cataldus -or Cathal, as he is styled in the terse records of our Irish manuscripts-was born in the kingdom of Mononia (our present Munster) in the latter part of the sixth century. The learned Franciscan historian, to whose pen and researches Ireland owes so much, fixes his birthplace in the riding of Upper Ormonde, North Tipperary. Here there is a townland called Ballycahill, which is identified as the tribal home of his clan, and here we trace one of the faint outlines of his name to which we have just alluded. His father was a minor prince, and Cathal was the eldest and seemingly the only child of his house. Miracles or strange manifestations of the favours with which God was pleased to mark his career, from dawn to close, were vouchsafed from the hour of our Saint’s nativity.

The joy which his birth brought his parents was quickly turned to sadness, for a few hours after the child came into the world his mother died. However, we are told that the infant fingers of the babe, having by chance touched the lifeless corpse that lay beside it, life returned, and the young mother, whose loss was mourned, was restored to her husband and child. In connection with the infancy of our Saint several legends are recorded. One tells us, how an aged hermit who lived in the solitude of the Galtee Mountains, on the night Cathal was born, saw a miraculous light encircle the abode of his parents as he looked down from his cell over the distant plain. Hastening to the scene, the holy man blessed the child and predicted that he was destined by God for great things. Again, we are told that while still very young, by accident, the little boy fell, and his head was dashed against a rude stone. It was believed the fall would have cost him his life, but he was left unhurt, while, like softest wax, the stone received the impress of his head. His preservation was looked on as miraculous-which no doubt it was, since, for years afterwards water placed within the hollow of the stone was found to possess healing powers for various diseases.

Very early in his life the sanctity of the child led his parents to place him at the famous school of Lismore founded by St. Carthage.

The fame of the schools of Ireland at that period had spread over Europe. Each would seem to have cultivated some special branch of religious or secular education. But Lismore had become famous as embodying in its teachings what we would call a general system, providing its scholars not only with the means of acquiring knowledge of the deeper sciences of mathematics and philosophy, but also all the accomplishments and useful crafts of that day. Students flocked to it from England, Scotland, France, Germany, Spain, and even from the shores of the Egerian Sea. It was here, as we learn from history, that at a later time than the period of which we write, that Oswald, of Northumbria, perfected himself in languages and psalmody, and was, on his return home, able to interpret for his people the preachings of the foreign missionaries he brought amongst them. And to the teachings of his Irish masters in Lismore we may doubtless attribute the sanctity and sacrifices of this holy king, which secured for him a place among the royal Saints of his own country. Alfred the Great, too, spent years of study in the vale of the Blackwater, and from the Irish bards learned to play the harp, and interweave with its melodies those weird songs with which he charmed his Danish foes, when disguised he visited their camp and perfected the stratagem by which he won back his crown and kingdom.

But let us return to the thread of our story.

Cathal won distinctions without number in the school of St. Carthage, and when he had completed his course was retained as a teacher, so highly were his attainments estimated. Being, however, filled with a longing to spread afar the tidings of the Gospel, after some time he returned to his native place, where many of his relatives, and other inhabitants were still plunged in superstition and paganism. Success attended his preaching on every side, and miracles seem to bless every effort of the Saint in the course of his Apostolate. For the conversion of so many souls Cathal was filled with gratitude towards God, to whose mercy he attributed all his powers, and in thanksgiving, we are told, he built a church in Lismore, which he caused to be dedicated to the Mother of God.

Cathal, though he taught the Divine truths, and had conducted so many into the fold of the True Faith, had not yet entered the sacred Ministry. He was at this time living in his father’s home. The death of both his parents occurring within a brief period, and releasing him, as he felt, from earthly and domestic ties, the holy youth determined on disposing of his patrimony, and carrying out his desire of entering the religious state. His whole life had been a preparation for this step, and very soon the holy order of priesthood was conferred on him.

His zeal and reputation for sanctity, together with the wonder-working powers which were accredited to him, brought such crowds around him, and coupled such praises with his name, that in his humility he determined to leave the people among whom he ministered, and who were so devoted to him.

Secretly he stole away and retraced his steps to Lismore. Here, amidst the vast concourse of monks and scholars, he hoped to escape the notice and flattery of men, and undisturbed, might devote himself more intimately to the service of God. Almost immediately on his return to the place where he had passed so many happy years, the zealous priest set about building another oratory at which he worked with his own hands. His whereabouts were however traced, and, as in the scenes he had just left, so now again, the blind, the lame, and the sorrow stricken hourly sought his aid and consolation.

It is related that at this time Cataldus, almost unconsciously, worked some of his greatest miracles. The child of a soldier who served in the army of the Prince of Desii, in whose territory Lismore was situated, was seized with a grave illness. The troubled father was advised to set out for the birthplace of the Saint and procure some water from the hollow of the stone on which the impress of Cathal’s head had remained since the accident which had occurred in his childhood. On his return the soldier was grieved to learn that during his absence his son had died. Hearing the Saint was at Lismore, the poor man in his frenzy took the lifeless corpse, and carrying it for many miles reached the spot where Cathal was to be found. The holy man at the time was busy digging out, as we are told, the deep foundation for his new church. Laying the body close to where the Saint was working, the soldier besought him to have pity on him, and implore God to restore his child to life. At the moment, as Cathal was casting the earth up from the deep trench a portion of the clay fell upon the lifeless form. A rosy hue at once stole over the pale cheek of the dead child. A movement of life returned to the rigid limbs, and, as if awaking from a sleep the child rose up, and was quickly enfolded in the arms of his father!

Rumour, with its myriad tongues, soon bore the tidings of this miracle far over the land. It seemed like a renewal of the Gospel wonders wrought by the shores of Galilee. And, like as with his Divine Master, the blessings which Cataldus brought to others were to be likewise fruitful of persecution to himself. Meltride, the Prince of Desii, was still a pagan. Urged on by the representations of his Druid priests he petitioned the King of Munster, whose vassal he was, to have the saint imprisoned, lest by his magic and seditious language he should mislead his subjects. The wily insinuation had the wished-for result. The old king yielded to the suggestions of Meltride and his wicked advisers, and ordered the holy priest to be arrested and cast into prison.

Strange to tell, and as if in punishment of his crime, Meltride died suddenly and the aged Monarch of Munster, like the king in tragedy, could “sleep no more.” His brain was tortured with the thought of his injustice, and, moreover, he was besieged with the ceaseless demands of the people for the release of their benefactor. “Conscience makes cowards of us all,” and kings are no exception, and soon by royal mandate the guiltless prisoner was set free. The king, we read, not only released him, but in his effort to repair the injustice of which he had been the instrument, offered Cataldus the princedom and territory of the unhappy Meltride.

These favours the Saint declined, at the same time assuring the King of his hearty forgiveness. However, later on we learn, the bishopric of Rahan becoming vacant, Cathal was compelled to accept it, and found unexpectedly the estates of Meltride conferred by royal gift on his diocese as mensal property.

This generosity abundantly proved that the King, who once cast him into prison, was indeed a generous enemy, and, better still, a penitent one. There is no longer a diocese of Rahan in Ireland, but, if we mistake not, it was the same small monastic see from which Saint Carthage was expelled by some ungrateful men of Meath. This circumstance of expulsion led to Saint Carthage founding the School of Lismore. And, by a strange coincidence, within the neighbourhood of this self-same Rahan, the Irish Jesuits have today one of their famous seats of education*, where we feel that it will be ever their pride to revive and keep green the memory of our great early Irish scholars, Carthage and Cataldus.

Some of our readers, versed in antiquities, will gather interest from this novel side-gleam of ecclesiastical story. It reveals that the first see of Carthage was, at most, but one of Abbatial jurisdiction, confined to the extent of his monastic estates. There were many such sees in Ireland, in fact, they seem to have been almost as numerous as are parishes now. Moreover, it will remind them that, after the coming of the Cistercians, in the days of the Sainted Primate Malachy of Armagh, Eugenius III, the patron of St. Bernard, made a redistribution of sees in ecclesiastical Ireland, much as we find them today.

But let us go back to Cathal and his subsequent history. Just at this time-the earlier decades of the seventh century-an anxious yearning to go forth on missions of Apostolic enterprise took possession of our Irish scholars. They seem to have been urged, in prosecuting their holy desires, by three distinct motives. Some left their country, like Romuald of Dublin, in order to avoid regal and worldly honours which their faithful people would feign thrust upon them. Others made sacrifice of home and country, for Christ’s sake, to preach and spread the Gospel. But a still greater number seem to have been actuated by the wish to visit, as pilgrims, places sacred to the birth of Christianity- the Holy Land, the temples and the tombs of Rome.

Cataldus was one of the latter band. He left his diocese-not, we should think, with any idea of forsaking Ireland for ever-and set out for Jerusalem. He had long cherished a desire to visit and venerate scenes consecrated by the footsteps of our Redeemer, and worship in the places where Christ had trod. After months of travel and various vicissitudes he reached the Holy Land. His enthusiastic aspirations and holiest dreams seemed now about to be satisfied. To him each scene was almost familiar, so long had their associations been coupled with the life and thoughts of Him whom he had chosen from infancy as his model, and on whose Divine teachings he had pondered in meditation. In his fervour a strange, yet holy thought filled his mind to take up his abode, at least for a time, and live as a hermit in the Holy Land. Close to Bethlehem he chose for himself a grotto cell, whence he visited all those spots sacred to Scripture story. For a time, he felt happy and satisfied in the realisation of his holiest life dreams.

But the path Cataldus had chosen was not the one for which he was destined by the Providence of God. Soon it occurred to him that the life of an anchorite, even amid places of such holy recollection, was, as far as the outer simple world was concerned, a selfish one. He was, after all, but labouring now for the salvation of one soul-his own- while within him lay the power of gathering many guests to the everlasting feast. The parable of the “ten talents” may have realized its meaning more forcibly for him, as he meditated amid the very scenes where the imperishable simile fell from the lips of the Divine Teacher. Gifted as he was with the highest knowledge and acquirements of his time, was he not called upon to turn to account those endowments, and not leave “his talents” buried in the pound? And full of faith, as these reflections caught a faster hold on his soul, he sought the will of God in prayer, promising that he would follow the inspiration of Divine guidance whithersoever it beckoned him. At length his prayer was heard, and it was mysteriously revealed to him that he should travel to Italy and restore the faith to the City of Tarantum, where once the Apostles Peter and Paul had preached, but where their teachings were now, alas, forgotten.

At once the Saint obeyed, although his departure from the land which he had longed for as the home of prolonged *Tullabeg, Tullamore contemplation was a grave trial -a sacrifice made more bitter still by the thought that he was never perhaps again to return to his beloved Ireland. Travelling on to the shores of the Levant, Cataldus found a vessel on the point of starting for Italy. The day he embarked was calm and beautiful, favouring winds filled the sails of the barque and gave promise of a happy voyage. However, at sundown, although nothing as far as human calculation could foresee betokened a change, Cataldus warned the captain of a coming storm. The suggestion was, however, badly received by the master of the ship and his crew, who smiled at the words of the inexperienced passenger. Soon, however, they found that Cataldus was not far astray. Unexpectedly, a storm arose of such violence that the vessel became unmanageable and had to be allowed to drift along, a plaything of the tempest. One of the sailors who attempted to mount the yards, and reef the tattered sails, was dashed upon the deck and killed. In the face of such peril the anxious crew crowded round the stranger who had foretold the disaster, and pitying them Cataldus, lifting his eyes to heaven invoked the Blessed Trinity, and making the sign of the cross over the raging sea, the winds fell and the surging billows quickly sobbed themselves to rest! This miracle won for our Saint, it is needless to say, the boundless gratitude of the poor sailors, but better still, it won for him their souls, for they were pagans, and all were converted by this manifestation of the power of the one true God.

At the close of this eventful voyage Cataldus was landed at the little port at the mouth of the Adriatic, ever since known as “Porto di San Cataldo.” Close to the beach was a little cave wherein the holy man offered thanks for his safety. In after times, through veneration for his memory, it became a votive chapel, wherein, on festival occasions, the sacred mysteries continued long to be celebrated.

If we look at the map of Italy, a little below the well-known call-port of Brindisi, this point connected with and named after our Irish Saint will be found. The journey from his landing-place to Tarantum was not very far. Yet in days, when neither rails or bicycles were available, it was not pleasant. The country here has none of the attractive characteristics which go to make an ideal Italian landscape. It is dreary and monotonous, and would compare sadly with the tamest of our Irish lowlands.

On his journey, it is related that our Saint was often obliged to ask his way. On one occasion he inquired of a little shepherdess the road to Tarantum. The child gazed upon the venerable stranger with sad yet wistful eyes, but made no reply. She was deaf and dumb, as Cataldus quickly perceived. Taking pity upon her, the holy man placed his hands upon her head, and at his prayers her faculties of speech and hearing were restored perfectly. Full of joy, the little girl took him by the hand and led him to the village where her parents lived, and which lay in his direct road to Tarantum. The poor parents knew not what to think, and were almost beside themselves with joy, when their child, who had never spoken from her birth, rushed in to tell them what had occurred. All the neighbours and kinsfolk were quickly on the spot to witness the miraculous cure and see the wondrous stranger who had wrought it. Cataldus, availing of the opportunity, explained to them that he was but the representative of the Great God who was the Giver of every good gift, and to Him alone should thanks and praise be given for the wonder worked amongst them.

Very little more effort was here needed to reap a plentiful harvest of souls, and before the sainted missionary left the village he had the happiness of receiving every soul there into the bosom of the Church. A journey of a few miles further brought Cataldus to his destination. In the designs of Providence, Tarantum was to be the home of his earthly exile.

In his school time he had often read the lines of classic reference in which many of the Latin poets had enshrined the name of the old-world city. As our Saint may have lingered beneath the lichened arch of its mighty gates, crowds of thoughts will have come upon him, linking perhaps with his lonely visit to this scene, the memories of his teachers in far-off Lismore. Dreams will have crowded on his imagination of long ago, when certainly he never dreamt that with the classic poet he, too, might sing-. . . . . .”Trojae ab oris . . in Italiam venit.”

If such were his reveries, they were broken by the plaintive supplication of a blind beggar who sought his alms! Then, as now, were verified, in the words of Christ, “the poor you have always with you.” In reply to questions which he put to the old man, Cataldus found he had lived from his youth in Tarantum, and had during his life shared the sympathy and charity of the citizens. By no other could the story of Tarantum have been better told, and Cataldus was quick to perceive that in his first acquaintance-the blind beggar of the wayside-he found the best introduction to his mission, the conversion of the faithless city. For some days, the saint came to meet his loquacious acquaintance at his accustomed resting place. The mendicant was poor not in wealth only, but in faith, too, for he was a pagan. Cataldus gradually unfolded to him the truths of the Gospel, while sympathising with him in his physical privations and sufferings. He explained to him how much more precious was the light of Faith than that eyesight which he had only temporarily lost. How little was the transient light of earth when contrasted with the endless, undimmed brightness of Eternity? Needless to observe, the poor beggar was converted, and when Cataldus led him for baptism to a spring close by the gates of Tarantum, as the darkness of his soul passed away, earthly sight was restored to his sightless eyeballs. Tarantum, we may be sure, quickly rang with the news of the blind man’s cure. The people ran in crowds to see the wonder-working stranger, and listened with docility to his teachings.

In the great squares of the city, and in the busy marts, Cataldus preached daily till he completely won the hearts and wrought the conversion of the whole city. Nor, were the blessings of his Apostolic zeal confined to Tarantum, for, far beyond its walls the seeds of faith which fell from the words of Cataldus were carried everywhere, to bear an abundant harvest. The old city, though partly fallen from the splendour of pre-Christian times, still held a position of great mercantile importance. The merchants of many nations, east and west, found it a convenient market for exchange. It was noted for the production of certain textures made from the wool of a peculiar kind of sheep which were only to be found on the plains of Calabria. The dyes of Tarantum were still prized in the world of fashion, while the waters of the Adriatic supplied a species of fish from which silk was manufactured, and which rendered the looms of the city famous over the world. The promiscuous gathering of all races, as we may say, afforded our Apostle a splendid field for his missionary zeal. His wonderful proficiency in the knowledge of dialects (which seems to have been one of the marvellous acquirements of our Irish scholars in the seventh century) made to Cataldus comparatively easy what to other preachers would have been a graver task. As proof of the far-reaching effects of the Apostolate of St. Cataldus, we need but consider the number of widely separated states and cities in which he is venerated. These we touch upon in the close of our necessarily too brief sketch of his eventful life.

The apostolate of Cataldus presents us with an extraordinary instance of missionary tact and labour. The Faith planted in Tarantum by the first Apostles can hardly have been said to have wholly died out. But perhaps a worse fate had befallen it, in its having degenerated and become incorporated in course of years with the superstition and errors of paganism into which the inhabitants had gradually relapsed. To unweave this tangled web was the difficulty. Every trace of the erroneous belief had to be rooted out-the gold to be sifted from the worthless dross.

To this end Cataldus firstly sought the ear of the educated classes, knowing well that, if example were given by those in high places, half his conquest would be achieved. His method proved successful beyond all he could have hoped for. But, in addition to his ingenious zeal, we cannot help thinking that this Irish Saint was more specially favoured by Heaven than were many others of our Apostles. Miracles seem to shower on his footsteps, and even forestall his every undertaking. It will strike many a devout reader of the Saint’s life as he contemplates this phase of his life, that somehow the great secret, or mainspring of his Apostolic success, may likely have been his devotion to the great Mother of God.

With his own hands he built two shrines to Her honour by the banks of the Blackwater. They were both votive churches or memorials of thanksgiving. Again, on the shores of the blue waters of the Adriatic Sea, after his initial missionary successes, in token of gratitude, his first act was to erect a shrine in honour of His Blessed Mother.

In the annals of our Irish Saints, of the early date in which the life of St. Cataldus was cast, we find no such constantly recurring and remarkable evidence of filial devotion to our Blessed Lady.

Our Saint cannot have been young when he came to Tarantum. The years which were marked by the first fervour of his preaching, and during which he was so successful, must have been few. Yet, within a brief compass of time, what great achievements may be accomplished, the life of our Saint strikingly exhibits. During the pontificate of Agapitus I., Cataldus was consecrated Bishop of Tarantum, and he ruled the diocese for fifteen years. Probably within that decade and a half, the events which gave such lasting glory to his memory took place. It was during this period, that he introduced into his cathedral the custom of having the psalms sung daily in the choir accompanied by music-a custom for many centuries observed, and became one of the most attractive cathedral services in Italy.

Again, his literary pursuits must have involved unwearied toil, since the works ascribed to his pen ran into volumes. His most famous works were “Homilies for the People,” “A Book of Prophecies,” and a “Treatise on Visions.”

The immediate province over which his episcopal jurisdiction extended shows, even in our own day, how deeply his teachings struck root in its soil. Wherever we find traces of his footsteps, there, too, we are sure to find a shrine of the sweet Madonna, whose praises he ever extolled, whom he ever thanked, and to whom he had unfailing recourse in all his cares.

The last years of St. Cataldus, in the details of their holiness, furnish an epitome of the blessings which God sheds so often over the closing days of his elect. But amid them all, as in all his wanderings his love of Ireland never waned, never grew faint; and we may well believe that, stretched on the bed of death, his aged heart travelled back to Lismore of Erin, and that his dying lips invoked a parting blessing on the loved “Isle of Destiny” in the Western Ocean.

As the springtide sun slowly sank from the cloudless sky into the bluer depths of the Adriatic Sea, and while that prayer for Ireland trembled on the lips, Cathal of Lismore, gave his soul to God on the 8th day of March, A.D. . 550.

Many of the accounts given by Italian writers describe the intense grief which pervaded the city of Tarantum on the death of its second apostle. Some records remind us of an incident similar to one narrated in connection with the life of another client of the Mother of God, St. Antony of Padua. As happened with the sainted Franciscan centuries afterwards, we are told, that the death-knell of Cataldus was tolled by the bells of Tarantum of their own accord- unswung by human hands.

With every mark of honour and devotion, the body of the Irish saint was placed within a marble casket and laid to rest beneath the choir of the cathedral which he had built. Here, for six centuries votaries came to pay respect to his memory and his sanctity. In the eleventh century, when the enthusiasm of Christendom began to show itself in the erection of more splendid temples, Dragone, Archbishop of Tarantum, undertook the rebuilding of the cathedral of his see. Coming on the coffin of Cataldus, the workmen were first apprised of its location by the sweet odour which the clay that covered it exhaled. In the presence of the clergy and the people, the sarcophagus was reverently opened. Beside the precious remains of the saint were found a golden cross-a tablet engraven- and a book plated with silver. On the cross were inscribed the words- “Famulus Christi Cataldus Epus Tarantius”

This relic is still preserved among the treasures of Tarantum.

In after centuries, on three successive occasions, the remains of the Saint were translated and re-enshrined with increased solemnity and becoming splendour. During the Pontificate of Pope Eugenius IlI, on May 10th, 1161, Bishop Giraldo had the relics encased in a silver shrine of costly workmanship, placing with the bones of the Saint a portion of the True Cross. Almost two centuries later-in 1846-the then Archbishop of Tarantum had the silver reliquary of Cataldus melted down and modelled into a statue, within which he placed the skull and several of the Saint’s bones. On this occasion, we learn, the same prelate, with the approval of the Holy See, distributed portions of the relics to many places where the Saint was held in special veneration. Amongst them we reckon chiefly Rome, Sicily, Venice, and some cathedrals of France.

The statue represented Cataldus clad in pontifical vestments, bearing in his left hand a crozier, while his right hand was outstretched as if imparting a benediction. On certain feasts the statue was washed, the water used being afterwards distributed among the faithful. It was treasured by votaries of the Saint as fruitful of wonderful cures.

On May 9th, the anniversary vigil of the third translation of the relics, this statue is borne through the streets of Tarantum in solemn procession, in which celebration the citizens and peasantry of the surrounding districts take part in immense crowds. In seasons of drought, when oftentimes the vineyards and crops of Calabria are threatened with ruin, we are told that the presence of this venerated statue, carried over the parched plains, is often followed by beneficent falls of rain, which avert the dreaded loss.

The magnificent chapel, at the Gospel side of the Altar in the Cathedral of Tarantum, was erected in the seventeenth century by the Prince-Bishop, Thomas Carraciolo. It was designed after the Pantheon in Rome, and subsequently enriched with the richest mosaics and marbles, carved with choicest architectural skill. The shrine of the statue of the Saint is one of the finest specimens of the Roccoco style to be found in any monument in Italy. So late as 1892, the Archbishop of Tarantum had the figure of the Saint, to which so much veneration is attached, still further adorned, and at considerable expense. And so it is, as we gather from these details, devotion to the Irish Apostle of the Adriatic City not only lived, but has grown warmer in the hearts of his adopted children, as each successive age rolls on.

The miracles which, like beams of heavenly light gleam through the pages of his life, never ceased in the land he blessed and sanctified. And this, although well nigh fourteen and a half centuries have passed since, footsore and weary, he asked his way from the little dumb shepherdess, and restored sight to the blind man at the gate of Tarantum.

We have alluded to the places, far from the scenes of his labours, to which the faith which Cataldus preached in the crowded marts of Tarantum was carried by his hearers. In the Italian cities of Naples, Corato, Lecce, Cattanello, Patignano, and numberless sister-towns, churches and shrines have been raised to his honour. At Rimini, where St. Antony once preached from the sands to the fishes of the sea, the parochial church is dedicated to our Irish saint. In Viterbo, of apostolic fame, again Cataldus is highly venerated. Far from the confines of Italy, in the French city of Sens-whither the craft of the silk weaver was brought by the traders of Tarantum- the parish church claims our saint as its patron. Many towns over the southern Continent bear his name, and it is also perpetuated in a well-known spot in the island of Malta.

In connection with our story many of us will have shared, at least in spirit, a few months since, in the ceremonies which took place in the churches of the Irish Jesuits in celebrating the Beatification of the latest Saint added to the catalogue of the sainted sons of St. Ignatius-Blessed Bernardino.

He was, as we may remember, the Apostle of Lecce in Italy. In that time-honoured city the most venerable shrine of the many shrines of Cataldus stands in the midst of the Campo Santo, or cemetery outside the walls. It was erected in 1181 by the pious Count Tancred of Lecce. Here during the forty years of his Apostolate Realino, no doubt, often prayed, and poured out his soul in supplication to that august Queen, that sweet Madonna, whose praises and whose glory Cataldus bore from the valley of our Irish Blackwater to the shores of the Adriatic Sea.

Our pen is stealing on and it threatens to glide beyond the limits of our task. The story of Cataldus will, we trust, be a welcome guest amongst our Irish readers. They will, we hope, agree with us that it is one of the most fascinating memoirs of our Saints. May it also be fruitful of reflection and instruction. Perhaps it may suggest to some who are blessed with fortune or endowed with education and accomplishments to follow, even in a remote way, in the footsteps of our great Saint, and not allow their talents, which must be accounted for, to lie buried in the field. May it also inspire many of the young Levites of our Seminaries with an ardent vocation to spread the Faith in foreign lands. May the bright example of Cataldus of Lismore teach them to trample under foot all temptations to ungenerous and inordinate love of home and kindred, and urge them to cross land and sea, leaving behind them for ever, like Cataldus, the land they love above all things after God, to bring the Gospel and Cross of Christ to souls seated in the darkness of heresy and paganism. But we will pray too, that like Cataldus, on foreign shores, they may never, never, never forget dear old Ireland, God’s chosen island of Apostles, Saints and Scholars!

PRAYER

O Blessed Cataldus! kindle more brightly than ever in the hearts of Holy Erin’s youths and maidens, the flame of vocation for foreign missions. Teach them to brave the pangs of separation from home and kindred, and to encounter every privation and death itself, if needs be, to spread the name and knowledge of Christ Crucified and of His Blessed Mother Mary. Amen.

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Saint Clare of Assisi

BY VERY REV. DOMINIC DEVAS O.F.M

INDEX

INTRODUCTION

To visit Jerusalem, Rome and Assisi for the first time, and all within a month, is to lodge in the mind a memory not likely soon to be lost. Jerusalem is fortunate in its walls, for the cramped city, within their narrow compass, retains much of its ancient ways and antique buildings steeped still and richly with the emotion of bygone multitudes. Rome is Rome-immortal despite all the ravages of “progress “, but old and new jostle one another so closely that the atmosphere of antiquity can only be caught here and there in this quarter or in that building; the prevailing note is strident and modern. How different is Assisi! As the train moves down out of the hills and then pushes on discreetly up the wide Umbrian valley, it seems to know its place and deliberately to refrain from drawing in too closely to the beautiful white city set midway on the eastern slopes. One feels that a thirteenth-century friar whom the Jerusalem of today would mystify, and modern Rome utterly bewilder, would know Assisi at once and be quite at home there. Comparatively speaking, it has changed little during these intervening centuries ; and even that mingled masterpiece of audacity and calm, the church and convent of San Francesco, though Francis did not know it, was certainly known to St Clare, even though invisible from her home at St Damian’s. But indeed Clare had a beauty all her own to gaze at if she would. Most cities, hurriedly visited, leave in the memory some vivid core or centre, that the name evokes at once, and around which the other memories gather tardily and with effort. For some, at least, the so-called Garden of St Clare in the convent of St Damian fulfils that office for Assisi. It is quite tiny, enclosed by lofty masonry on three sides, but the fourth, bordered by a low wall, looks straight down on to the beautiful plain or wide valley of Umbria, with the outline of the far hills rising mistily out of the blue distances and closing the horizon in-a perfect view quite beyond adequate description in words. It is a place of utter peace, so calm, so alien to the world’s rough noise and ceaseless questionings, so responsive to man’s own inward witness to the invisible that one almost waits for the old door to open softly and to admit Clare herself to her garden with a greeting for the visitor. That may not be, but at least one may strive to recall for a while the memory of a very noble figure in the Franciscan past, and of one whose inspiration, after seven centuries, still glows in the heroic lives of many generous souls.

HER EARLY YEARS

CLARE was born at Assisi in July 1194. Her father was called Favarone, her mother’s name was Ortulana. She had, it would appear, an elder brother called Martin, and in time two younger sisters, Agnes and Beatrice. There was also an uncle, Monaldo. Sixteenth and seventeenth century writers, with their insatiable itch for nobility at all costs, have sedulously got their Clare into the best society and present her to us as one of the great Sciffi family. Contemporaries knew nothing of this; they were, in fact, more like ourselves, and were content when they found that true nobility of which sanctity is so sure a school, without bothering to look around for escutcheons. All then that we know for certain of Clare’s family-and it is illuminating enough in view of her subsequent character-is that she came of great fighting stock. Pater ejus miles et tota utroque parente progenies militaris: ‘ Her father was a soldier and her ancestry on both sides, military ‘. We know also, from the same source, that the family, from the material point of view, was very well off. One might, then, hazard the suggestion that Clare’s family at Assisi was of much the same local standing as that of Antony at Lisbon-of the urban nobility or, as we should say, of the upper class. But how trifling all such inquiries seem when our business is with a soul of such outstanding “greatness” as that of Clare. It is sanctity that ennobles souls and makes them truly generosi-of high birth-no matter what their origins.

Clare owed much to her mother, Ortulana, a woman of real piety. In her younger days Ortulana had been on pilgrimage to the holy places in Palestine, and to St Michael’s shrine in the south of Italy; and in her day-in marked contrast to our own-to go on pilgrimage both required and was itself an evidence of a spiritual sincerity of no common order. Just before Clare’s birth Ortulana was praying in church before a crucifix for a safe delivery when an interior voice reassured her; she was to set all fear aside, for her child would be safely born and become a great light in the world. At baptism in the Cathedral of San Rufino-and at the same font, still to be seen, wherein Francis was baptized-the little one received the name of Clare. With a sigh for what is so swiftly passing from amongst us, we read how Clare learnt the fidei rudimenta, the “rudiments of faith,”3 from her own mother’s lips. No wonder it all held so firmly; no wonder it is apt to sit so lightly on so many of the modern generation who learn these same rudiments of faith in conjunction with Latin grammar and ancient history, and much else besides, that are all apt in time to go the way of “school stuff “, carrying-alas only too often-the rudiments of faith in their train. As a child, Clare showed unselfishness in her alms-giving, the beginnings of self-mastery in the penances she would impose upon herself, and a certain determination to be thorough with God by counting her little prayers with loose pebbles to make sure none were left out.

When Francis came back from Rome with verbal approval of Pope Innocent III for his way of life and was gathering followers around him at his new home of St Mary of the Angels, the Portiuncula, Clare was about fifteen years of age. Assisi was now ashamed no longer of her wayward son; and amongst the earliest to be drawn towards one who was already beginning to lead souls with a touch as sure and direct as that which the world has seen more lately in the Cure d’Ars, was the young girl Clare. We have a fine example here of that remarkable insight into character which Francis possessed, and for which only the tardiest recognition has been forthcoming. To handle a soul like Clare’s with such unerring skill, such perfect assurance, and such complete success was a great achievement; and is an instance alike of the value of sound direction, when it may be had, and of the chief source of its efficacy. For some three years Clare, accompanied by her maid, used frequently to visit Francis when he was staying at the Portiuncula. There is little difficulty in following their talk. It was all, as Celano puts it, vivo sermone, with speech alive, vivacious; Francis spoke to Clare of the world’s emptiness, of the life with God, and of Jesus Christ, Quem amor humanavit, ‘Whom love made man.’

The issue could hardly be doubted. On Palm Sunday, 18th March, 1212, Clare, dressed in splendour beyond the ordinary, went with the crowds to the cathedral for the distribution of palms; but when the time came to receive her palm, she felt she could not rise with the rest and move up towards the sanctuary. Issues so vast and novel for this girl of eighteen were to be put to the test that night that it hardly surprises us to find her here, for once in her life, overwrought. The chronicler quietly covers all with a discreet prae verecundia-just shyness-and there she remained in her place, more conspicuous now than ever. The Bishop of Assisi was officiating. This was Guido, true friend of both Francis and Clare, and close sharer of their counsels. Seeing Clare still kneeling in her place, he came down the sanctuary and gave the blessed palm into her hand. It came to her from God’s minister as a pledge of conflict and of victory. That night, with one to bear her company, Clare left her home by a disused door and came straight to Francis at the little chapel of St Mary of the Angels. He and the brothers were waiting with torches to receive her. She came to the tiny altar, and, at the hands of Francis, vowed herself to God absolutely, irrevocably, keeping nothing back. The actions were swift, but the work itself unhurried. Three years had gone to the fashioning of it, years of prayer, reflection and wise counsel; and now at length the gauge Christ had cast into that generous soul was taken up and His gentle challenge, Come, follow Me, met. And it was at Mary’s own shrine that the dedication was made, so that, as the Chronicler puts it, Mary might become the Mother of this family also, the religious daughters of Clare; as already she was the Mother of the family which Francis had gathered around this little chapel of hers in the woods.

When the ceremony was over and Clare had set aside her worldly adornments, she was conducted at once to a neighbouring convent of Benedictine nuns, dedicated to St Paul. Soon enough her warlike relatives discovered her retreat and appeared at St Paul’s bent on regaining her, if need be, by force. Clare was adamant, clinging to the very coverings of the altar, and baring her head that all might see it, shorn in token of her consecration. For several days the conflict continued till at length, realizing the futility of trying to shake her resolution, her relatives left her in peace to God, and returned to Assisi. In reality, this strange scene-soon to be repeated in the case of Clare’s sister, and with even greater violence-is very typical of an age wherein thought was the handmaid of action and not-as so often today-its substitute. One remembers St Bernard and the opposition he met with and triumphed over so completely, or the revolting endeavours employed to hamper the young Thomas Aquinas in achieving his purpose, to see how this sort of physical constraint was common enough. Today it finds its softened counterpart in the worldly-wise endeavours to distract from foolish visions of the cloister those whose future careers we have hopefully mapped out on other lines. There is nothing anti-clerical in either case, but just two different fashions of showing displeasure at personal disappointment. Shortly after this conflict- likely enough because of it, for it ill-accorded with the peace of the house, and, who knows, might perhaps be renewed-Clare moved to the convent of St Angelo di Panso, Benedictine likewise. Here she made her earliest conquest.

Between Clare and her younger sister, Agnes, there had long existed a complete harmony of thought and will. The latter shared in all her sister’s hopes and plans, and must have known full well of her devotion to Francis and of her purpose to consecrate her life to God under his guidance. Once the venture had been made Clare did not cease to pray for Agnes that she might soon join her. Her prayers were heard; and we are thus confronted with the first notable instance of the wonderful efficacy of Clare’s prayer. Little more than a fortnight after Clare herself had left her home, and whilst she was still with the Benedictine nuns of St Angelo di Panso, Agnes fled alone and in secret from the house of Assisi and joined her sister. It was 2nd April 1212, and she was fifteen years of age. Most people are familiar with the scene that followed and the violent efforts-miraculously frustrated-that were made to drag the unwilling Agnes away from the life of her choice. During all the shouting and tumult Clare prayed, and praying won. The only consoling feature in this brutal assault on one so young is the absence of the immediate family of Clare. The villain of the piece was the uncle Monaldo, who disappears henceforward from history. Let us hope the double miracle, the sudden weight of Agnes so that strong men could not lift her, and his own arm raised to strike and itself struck temporarily useless and for long afterwards often in pain, may have helped to turn his mind to better things. Such events, however, were disquieting for the generous hosts of the two sisters, and doubtless served to hasten on the needful work of preparation going on all the while at St Damian’s, Assisi. A few days after the rough scene with Agnes, all was sufficiently ready and the two sisters entered the walls of that historic house, still redolent of Francis’s own work and rich with his prophetic utterance that soon it would shelter holy women dedicated to God.

ST DAMIAN’S

AT the convent of St Damian, then, just outside the walls of her native town, in this same eventful year 1212, Clare dropped anchor at last, and, in the beautiful words of her first biographer, ‘broke the alabaster vase of her body so that the whole church was filled with the odour of the ointment.’ That this was not rhetoric merely is shown by the number of those who came so soon to St Damian’s to associate themselves with Clare and Agnes in their new life; and equally, too, in the strange, indefinable way in which Clare’s influence and example reached and entered and permeated other convents of women, already pursuing an ordered way of life and long established in the Church, and led to their inclusion in the new Order.

Once enclosed within the walls of her new home, Clare never left it; and it now remains to treat -and how superficial, even at the best, must such treatment be-of the forty years and more she spent there. As one looks back over these seven hundred years of Franciscan history, Clare still towers over it all serene and radiant, with something of that brilliance which so plainly impressed those of her own day. She was of the very few in whom Francis found an utterly congenial spirit, and among these very few she entered as fully as any into the Franciscan ideal; she was a perfect flower on the Franciscan tree. St Bonaventure tells us that Francis aimed at combining in his Order three hitherto disparate movements. He would have the following of Christ in an ordered conventual life, such as he established at St Mary of the Angels ; he would add a measure of the eremitical life by initiating such solitary homes as those of the Carceri or La Verna, and on this twin basis he would build up a vast missionary enterprise, that would stretch out brave arms to the remotest corners of the known world.

That Clare, enclosed at St Damian’s, could share in the ideals of conventual life and retirement is plain enough, but for her also life was to be apostolic. Clare’s old friend, Cardinal Ugolino, now Pope Gregory IX, would often appeal to Clare for help in the many cares and difficulties of his pontificate. As the chronicler puts it, sciebat enim quid potest amor, ‘he knew the power of love,’ and looked to Clare and her daughters to help the Church everywhere by their apostolate of prayer and sacrifice. One is reminded at once of an earlier Gregory, the seventh, the great and saintly Hildebrand, and of his beautiful letters to the monastic house he loved so well, to Cluny and its abbot, Hugh. Hugh is implored to secure the prayers of those ‘whose holy lives assure fulfilment’ for himself as representing that ‘universal mother,’ the Church. And again one is reminded of our late Holy Father Pope Pius XI, and of the confidence he assured us he felt in these other martyrs, as admirable and so numerous, who are hidden within the cloister of a religious house . . . innocent victims indeed, with no other desire save to turn aside from the world-as many times they have done-the rigours of divine justice Clare was well aware of this and of the work for souls that lay at her hands to do. Her cloistered life was no life of idle dreaming, aloof from the world’s cares and the countless needs of souls. We have a tiny but vivid illustration of this in a later incident in Clare’s life. Assisi was being beset by a marauding band, nominally Imperial troops, under the immediate command of one Vitalis de Adversa. St Damian’s itself-we shall see why later-they would not touch, but the walled city was thought to be an easier objective than any convent of women with a Clare within. But they were still reckoning without her. The needs of Assisi were ever her own, and so she set herself with her daughters to pray earnestly for its safety. The bandits found, to their surprise, that they could make no headway against the city, and soon abandoned the assault and went elsewhere for easier conquests.

It was certainly a delight for the inmates of St Damian’s to listen as they did, from behind the grille, to the accounts the friars brought to them of the labours and even the martyrdom of the sons of Francis in distant lands, but their interest did not end there; by prayer and love and sacrifice they entered into those very labours themselves. Emphasizing though she did the life of contemplative solitude, Clare was not, and her family never has been, aloof from Franciscan activities. In his anxious musings as to whether he should surrender his active life for the delights he so relished of complete retirement, it was to Clare that Francis turned instinctively for guidance. From Clare he received the only answer a real Franciscan could give, non sibi soli vivere sed aliis proficere, as the liturgy puts it; i.e. to live for others rather than himself; and Clare’s advice to Francis has become timeless and for all.

Clare was always cheerful in look as well as manner, and Francis in his sorrows felt, like many others, the consoling and uplifting force that emanated from her. It was in a hut, by night, in the garden of St Damian’s, that Francis, suffering sorely in the eyes, and sleepless and worried with the rats which infested the place, revealed his yet untroubled soul in the sweet, brief Canticle of Praise. And if the charming legend that tells of Clare leaving St Damian’s to sup with Francis and the brethren at the Portiuncula lacks historic foundation, it does emphasize the truth of the perfect harmony that knit together these two great souls and of the immense help each drew from the other in their persevering loyalty to great ideals. The wood around St Mary of the Angels, all brilliantly lit that night with a supernatural glow, which brought the neighbouring peasants, as the legend tells us, in hot haste with water to extinguish the fancied conflagration, is but a telling symbol of that warmth of love which true Franciscanism was in fact to carry throughout the world. These holy souls loved the world too much to remain in it and be served by it; and so they left it that, aloof from it, they might serve it the better.

As numbers grew, Clare -all unwillingly-accepted the inevitable office of Superior which Francis wished her to hold, and became the first Abbess in the new Order. She was an ideal Superior, for she recognized at the outset that “office” implies not more liberty for self but more devoted service to others. She led, and therefore never needed to drive. She had the discerning eye that detects at once the genuinely sick and was prompt to succour them with liberal dispensations. Equally she knew when any were discouraged, and comforted them out of the strength of her own brave heart. She was ready on occasion to rise and rouse from sleep the younger ones, and then to hasten herself to the little choir to light the lamps for the Night Office, that grand prayer of the Church she loved so well and of the efficacy of which she was so completely assured. On cold nights she would steal quietly amongst her sisters, as they slept, and adjust the coverings to keep them warm. Despite much sickness she was untiring in manual work especially in weaving corporals and making silk burses to be distributed amongst poor churches.

Her teaching mirrored her life. She spoke of self- mastery and of the need of penance, but wisely, with detail adjusted to the individual. Because she knew some practice to be wise in her own case, she did not conclude at once that it must be wise for all. One can see her smile when an over-zealous sister who had been allowed to have her own way and borrow Clare’s hair-shirt, returned it to her within three days with no more to say upon the subject. Much more anxious was she to ensure in her community peace of heart and that spirit of detachment from home and country which does not diminish our love for these but raises to a higher level than ever the charity we have for all. There were miracles, too, to enhance, if need be, the position Clare came to hold both within and outside her cloister. The bread was multiplied on one occasion, the oil on another. This latter was particularly remembered because, before Clare had appeared on the scene, the anxious sister in charge had sent an urgent message to the lay-brother, whose business it was to go on quest for the nuns, to come at once. This he did, but on his arrival discovered, to his annoyance, that his hot haste had been quite needless: Clare had forestalled him, and he was not wanted after all. Little wonder he found the sister’s joke-as he thought it-rather out of place.

It would be a difficult thing to speak of Clare’s prayers, as also of her temptations. Even had she possessed and used that gift of descriptive writing and intimate self- revelation that distinguished St Teresa of Avila, it would remain true of Clare, as it still remains true of Teresa, that of these things, by far the greater part must ever be “ the secrets of the King” known only to Christ and to the soul.

Like St Francis, veritable Apostle of the Holy Eucharist in the thirteenth century, Clare also had a great devotion to the Blessed Sacrament. This has become immortalized in a famous scene, often reproduced on stone and canvas. The earliest life of the saint makes it quite evident that Clare did not actually carry the pyx or ciborium containing the Blessed Sacrament-though we may easily pardon this later adornment of the story-but she accompanied the chaplain, whom she had summoned that he might confront the rough intruders with Him in whom all her confidence lay. It was a bold, unprecedented step; but it throws into high relief Clare’s simple, childlike grasp of spiritual realities. As she stood erect and imperturbable for one tense moment facing the mob, she heard a tiny voice, as of a little child, saying, I shall shield you always ‘. The triumph was complete and instantaneous. The wild Saracen auxiliaries, in the pay of Frederick II, who had thus rudely attempted, as they roved lustful and undisciplined over the countryside, to assault the calm of St Damian’s, fled pell-mell from the scene, utterly overwhelmed by the two silent figures and the sacred burden they bore. Needless to say, the Emperor Frederick was at the time in one of his bouts of fruitless hostility to the Holy See and that Assisi and its district were under Papal suzerainty.

Although this well-known incident has rightly grouped St Clare among the many saints who showed conspicuous devotion to the Blessed Sacrament, her love was far from depending on such unexpected crises. It was with Clare as with Francis ; devotion to the Blessed Sacrament glowed warm and life-long in her soul, and marked emphasis is laid by the chronicler on her Holy Communions. Another devotion remarked in Clare was to the Sacred Passion, and embedded therein a special love of the Five Wounds-that grand old devotion once so popular in Catholic England. There is extant a Prayer in Honour of the Five Wounds of Christ, attributed to our saint, but its authenticity is doubtful.

With all her tenderness and deep piety Clare was, however, a very determined woman, with a very strong will, definitely knowing her own mind, and overriding opposition with a strong hand even though it lay in high quarters. When, on one occasion, whatever the reason; the chaplain, Fr Philip d’Andria, was withdrawn from St Damian’s, Clare was stirred to immediate action, and forced the issue at once by dismissing the lay-brothers who, in those times, were allotted to the convent to ‘quest’ alms for the sisters. ‘If our spiritual nourishment is to be neglected,’ was her argument, and Clare relished the conferences of Fr Philip, let them trouble no more about our corporal sustenance ‘. The Clares could not be left to die of starvation; a chaplain was reappointed and the brothers resumed their very essential duties.

More striking still was Clare’s attitude in the matter of poverty. Nothing would move her in her determination to win and to hold the unusual privilege of having no conventual property at all. Innocent III, tentatively, and probably only by word of mouth, acceded to her wish; but Gregory IX definitely proposed that, in view of their circumstances, some material source of regular revenue was most desirable. No, Clare would have none of it; but if it is your vow that makes you anxious ‘, said the Pope,’I can dispense you from that.’’Holy Father ‘, replied the saint,’I have no sort of desire to be dispensed from the lifelong following of Christ.’ Wise Pope Gregory-who knew courage when he met with it, and prized it at its right worth-left it at that. But as Clare lay dying, Pope Innocent IV visited her and left to her in writing the Holy See’s assent to her cherished Privilege of Poverty. She had strained for this all her life, and now at last it was hers, and she was utterly at peace.

The years moved swiftly on. After her husband’s death, Ortulana joined her daughter at St Damian’s. Clare had great supernatural powers from God and to be marked by her with the sign of the Cross was a swift way to relief from pains, mental or physical. Sometimes Clare would send the sufferer to her mother that she might mark the Cross on the brow of the patient, and thus vicariously was the work of healing done. Francis himself had unbounded confidence in Clare’s power of intercession, and on one occasion sent to her a Brother Stephen who was much afflicted in mind He returned to Francis completely cured. The sign of the Cross worked wonders at St Damian’s, and both Agnes and Ortulana were often the vehicles of God’s mercy to the stricken.

What was the Rule of Life followed at St Damian’s? This question, if pursued, would lead us into a great morass of discussion and argument. It is enough to recall two established facts. Clare certainly received a Rule of Life of some kind from St Francis not long after settling at St Damian’s, and it can hardly be doubted that, apart from recognizing the wholly enclosed life of the Sisters, it resembled the Rule of Life he had given the friars themselves. As with them, so with the Clares, oral approval from Pope Innocent III must suffice. Mention is made of this rule later on by Pope Gregory IX in a letter he wrote to Blessed Agnes of Bohemia. He speaks there of the formula vita, or “way of life,” which Francis had given to Clare and her daughters at St Damian’s. Then, before the saint’s death, a definite rule was drawn up under her direction and fully in accord with her life-long hopes and ideals; and this was confirmed in writing by Pope Innocent IV in 1253.

The whole exterior fabric of Poor Clare life is “contemplative”; that is to say its whole purpose is to facilitate and foster the contemplative life of the individual nun; it is bent uniquely to that goal. But this is far from implying that it is the one exclusive path thereto. The interior life with God is open to every sincere soul whether in the world or in the cloister. We have universities everywhere which profess to be seats of learning, to encourage and to provide special facilities for the acquisition of learning; yet learning may be pursued elsewhere by all with the necessary aptitude and desire for it. So it is in the things of the spirit; a “contemplative order” claims no monopoly of contemplation, but its purpose is to eliminate as many obstacles as possible and to provide as many helps as possible to enable its members to develop a deep interior life: in a word, as our Lord once said to St Margaret of Cortona, it is to be a collegium divini amoris, a university of the love of God, helping those who live in it, and inspiring to emulation those who are outside.

HER DEATH

IT now remains to speak of Clare’s wonderful and most happy death in August 1253. She had long been ailing and often in pain, but now at last it was evident that the end was near. It is astonishing to read of the many and distinguished visitors who felt it a privilege to be able to visit the dying saint. Nothing shows more clearly how deeply her example and her long cloistered life, and her fine personality, which no mere walls could close in, had impressed all classes round about her little convent. The odour of the ointment had indeed filled all God’s house. She lives in the pages of Celano, more vividly than ever as death draws near. Her words remained indelibly imprinted upon the minds of all who heard her. When a priest, the Franciscan Raynaldo, came to condole with her in her sufferings and-most foolishly-to exhort Clare of all people to the anaemic virtue of mere resignation,’Father’ she replied, since, through His servant Francis, I came to know the sweetness of my Lord Jesus Christ, no trial has ever been a burden to me, no austerity has ever been irksome to me, no sickness, my dearest Brother, has ever been bitter to me ‘. Her words are almost fierce in their vigour, martial in their ring: they unveil for us very clearly a splendid example of the strong woman, the mulier fortis of Holy Scripture: they reveal the fact, so often overlooked, that for soft, languishing, sentimental souls the convent offers no refuge at all.

A visitor of another kind was Brother Juniper; and what a joy it is to find him portrayed here as he really was, egregius Domini Jaculator, ‘Christ’s Lancer,’ full indeed of quick wit and very human sympathies, but far from being the mere knockabout comedian he is represented as elsewhere. When he entered the sickroom, Clare jokingly greeted him by asking what spiritual toy he had brought for her up his sleeve; but all the saints have a way of talking deeply, without being solemn and ponderous, and the conversation that followed between these two grand souls was of just that sort, and left Clare wonderfully comforted.

Another visitor was Cardinal Raynaldo, Bishop of Ostia, who later became Pope Alexander IV. He gave Clare Holy Communion and later preached words of comfort to all her nuns. He was the Order’s Protector, and Clare profited by his visit to implore him to do his utmost to win for her definite and official assent to her cherished Privilege of Poverty. He promised and succeeded.

Finally came a visit from Pope Innocent IV himself. Here, indeed, we have the climax of this great stream of visitors, drawn, as by a magnet, to St Damian’s. A personal visit from the Pope himself was an absolute unprecedented honour done to the dying Clare. On the morning of the day he came, Clare received Holy Communion at the hands of the Minister Provincial. When the Pope entered her cell, he drew near the couch on which the saint lay, and, with immense reverence, she kissed his feet. Once was not enough; and, to satisfy her ardour, he raised his foot on to a little foot-stool, that she might the more easily reach and kiss it again. Clare’s love of the Holy See was very real-ardent, as was that of Francis -and her loyalty absolute: and the Pope knew it, and would, by such courtesy, acknowledge it. She then begged of the Holy Father to grant her, in God’s name, full forgiveness for all her sins. Would my need was as yours ‘, he answered, and willingly gave her plenary absolution: and before he left, Clare held in her hands from him that cherished approbation from the Holy See of her Order and of her beloved Poverty. No wonder, when all was over and Clare could reflect in peace on the events of that great day, that she expressed her sense of immense privilege in having been allowed with so short a space to receive her Lord and Master in Holy Communion, and then to have seen His Vicar on earth. But, as ever, Clare’s thoughts cannot rest for long upon herself; she has others and the future in mind. From her sick-bed Clare, like Francis before her, blessed from her heart all houses of Clares actual or to be.

Still the stream of visitors flowed in and out; but now that the end was so plainly at hand a few privileged ones remained, notably those famous sons of Francis, Leo and Angelo. It is a wonderful group, for we must remember that Agnes was with them at St Damian’s again. As is natural, it is Agnes who feels most the coming separation. Do not weep ‘, Clare says to her; soon will you follow me.’ Then the dying saint murmurs on, half to herself, hardly aware of others. Go forth with confidence ‘, they hear her repeat, ‘ go forth with confidence; thou hast a good guide for the road. Go forth, for He who created thee has sanctified thee; He watches over thee; and, as a mother her child, so He too with tender love has cherished thee. Blessed art Thou, my Lord, my Creator.’ As the last moments draw near we are not surprised to find how thin grow the veils hiding from human eyes God’s invisible creation around us. The dying have sight more keen than the living. To the dying Clare comes the vision splendid of the King. Enraptured she gazes forward; then turns to the sister at her side, ‘Daughter,’ she whispers, ‘do you see, as I, the King of Glory? ‘ Then suddenly she is struck, as with a blow, by a shaft of intense sorrow. How can littleness, such as hers, ever have access to such splendour? Averted eyes move towards the open doorway of her cell. Lo! It is filled with Angels grouped together, white and brilliant, and in their midst, Mary. The Blessed Virgin draws near the bed, bends over it and kisses the dying saint. In that flood of Heavenly radiance Clare passes. It is 11th August, the morrow of St Laurence’s day.

The burial was a triumph. One might have fancied some great prince was being carried to his grave, so vast and distinguished was the gathering. Innocent IV was there and many Cardinals. In fact, the Pope was so carried away by his enthusiastic faith in Clare’s sanctity that, but for Cardinal Raynaldo-who deemed it premature-he would have substituted in the burial service the Office of Virgins for the usual Office for the Dead. All went forward, however, as prescribed in the Ritual. The body of the saint was taken to the Church of St George, or probably, to the little chapel adjoining, in which the body of St Francis had rested for four years. When the Clares, for greater security, moved later to St George from their convent of St Damian, this little chapel was incorporated in their new home; and there the body of Clare rests to this day.

Two years later, and after the usual careful investigation into the many miracles wrought by the saint, Clare was solemnly canonized at Anagni by her old friend Cardinal Raynaldo, reigning now as Pope Alexander IV.

NOTE-Recent research has established the fact that, during the communal rising at Assisi, in the beginning of the thirteenth century, Clare’s family was among those forced to take refuge in Perugia, and their house in Assisi was sacked. Clare, then, certainly spent some of her childhood years in Perugia ; and it is not unlikely that her warlike father and uncle were engaged in the victorious battle of 1202 against the communal forces of Assisi in whose ranks the young Francis himself was fighting, and in which he was made prisoner. When hostilities were over, one of the conditions imposed on Assisi was to allow the peaceable return of those who had been driven out. Thus the same occasion brought back, though in very different groups, both Francis and Clare to their native town ; and Assisi, even in those distant days, could watch the return of prisoners-of-war, and displaced persons.

********

Saint Dominic Savio

BY J. J. RYAN, S. D. B

INDEX

On March 5, of this Holy Year, 1950, crowds of youth from almost every country in the world stormed the great Basilica of St. Peter’s Rome, to witness the beatification ceremony of an Italian Salesian school boy. Seventy thousand voices echoed through thatmighty edifice as Our Holy Father was borne on the Sedia Gestatoria into St. Peter’s to venerate the Relic of this youthful Confessor. Twenty thousand more outside in the Square took up the cry of triumph and flung it along the piazza of Bernini out on to the timeless Tiber, across ancient Europe and over to the new lands of the Atlantic and the Pacific. So profoundly moving was this gigantic manifestation of youthful enthusiasm and joy that the Holy Father, Pius XII was heard to exclaim:

“Never was such a sight seen in St. Peter’s before.”

It is worth while, then, to know something of this schoolboy, who has merited such glory and world-wide renown. Never before in the history of Catholic schools has school life been so exalted and dignified than in the Church’s recognition of the holiness of life of Dominic Savio, the Schoolboy Confessor.

EARLY CHILDHOOD

Dominic Savio was born on April 2, 1842, in a village of Piedmont, North Italy, with the lovely name of Riva di Chieri. Here, his father, Charles Savio, worked as village blacksmith, carpenter and general handyman. Charles Savio and his wife, Brigid, were highly respected among their rural kinsfolk, and although they were never much ahead of poverty, they were rich in the strong, sturdy faith of the Piedmontese peasantry. The strong, muscular blacksmith looked fondly that April day on his new-born son. Like every other father, he looked ahead and wondered what the future would bring. Certainly the present had little to offer. His home was a humble cottage; his work in the fields and at the forge provided little more than the bare necessities of life. So, from a worldly point of view, his son’s future was very insecure, and none too bright. But the parents” trust in God was as deep as their faith and as a pledge of that confidence they decided at the baptism of their child on the morrow, he would be named Dominic, that is, “of the Lord.” How truly he was a child “of the Lord” they could scarcely realise then, but the strong Catholic spirit of the Savio home was the first and most enduring influence in the making of this saintly boy.

Impressionable and precocious to an unusual degree, the child responded with rare docility to the early training of his pious mother, and gifted with a wonderful memory, he had learned his prayers at the early age of four years. When five years old he could serve Mass and the sight of the small boy standing tip-toed and with arms fully outstretched to lift the Missal from the altar, was often an amusing topic of conversation among the villagers. His devotion at this early age to Our Lord in the Blessed Sacrament was most remarkable. It attracted the notice of the parish priest, who was astonished at the workings of Divine Grace in one so young. Often the child was seen in the early hours of the morning before the church door was opened, kneeling in prayer on the doorstep. Rain, hail or snow, he would be there waiting to be admitted into the home of his Eucharistic Lord.

In those days children were not permitted to make their first Holy Communion until they were eleven or twelve years old. Dominic at the age of seven knew his catechism by heart and had a clear understanding of the Holy Eucharist and a strong desire to receive It. The parish priest, however, although fully aware of the boy’s rare gifts of grace and nature, hesitated to admit him to first Holy Communion because he was so young. He realized, however, that Dominic’s knowledge and grasp of the meaning of this solemn act was much more advanced than that of other children. After talking the matter over with several of the local clergy, he decided that in view of the boy’s spiritual preparedness he should be allowed to make his first Holy Communion. Dominic was overjoyed at the news and at once set about preparing himself as well as possible. The night before the great day he said to his mother:

“Tomorrow is my First Communion Day, so please forgive me all the wrong I have done you, and I promise to behave myself much better in the future. I will do better at school and be more respectful and more obedient.”

Even at that early age he realized the necessity of striving to be virtuous. On his First Communion Day he scribbled down on the fly-leaf of his prayer book four resolutions, which reveal what was to be the tenor of his spiritual life in the years ahead. They were:

(1) I will go to Confession often and will receive Holy Communion as often as my Confessor will allow me. (2) I will keep Sundays and days of obligation holy.

(3) My friends will be Jesus and Mary.

(4) Death rather than sin.

These resolutions made by Dominic at the age of seven show how far he was already advanced in the spiritual life, and how practical his piety was, in spite of his tender years.

HEROIC SCHOOLDAYS

Dominic went to the local school until he was ten years old. Then it became necessary for him to finish his education at a higher school. This meant a walk of eight miles or so a day to and from the nearest municipal school at Castelnuovo. It was a long and lonely road, and in those days infested with tramps and footpads. The peasant folk, who saw him trudging along day after day to school in the rains and snows of winter and under the scorching sun of summer, shook their heads in disapproval and doubted the commonsense of the blacksmith, who sent his son so far afield alone for his schooling.

A man, meeting Dominic one day on his way under a blazing sun, ventured to ask him:

“Are you not afraid, my boy, to tramp along these roads alone?”

“I am never alone, sir, for my Guardian Angel is always with me.”

“But surely, you must find it tiring to do this long walk every day, and in this heat, too!”

“Nothing is tiring, when one does it for God, Who repays so well.”

The man was deeply impressed by the spontaneity and simplicity of the boy’s answers, and that evening as he sat with the villagers in the big barn for their evening gossip, he related the incident and capped it with a prophecy: “A boy of ten, who thinks so seriously at that age, is sure to be heard of again, what ever career he chooses.” Charles Savio, however, was very reluctant to allow his son to undertake so long a journey on foot, and it was only

Dominic’s keenness for knowledge that induced him to consent. His decision proved wise, for the boy made great progress at his new and distant school. His master was delighted with his progress both in virtue and learning:

“There was,” he testifies, “a certain charm in his manner that won instant sympathy. Gentle in his ways and ever kind, no one ever saw him out of his usual good humour.

From the first day he came to school until he left, he was always first in his class in almost all the subjects he studied. This success was due not only to his quick intelligence, but also to his great love of learning.”

Although at school Dominic was always ahead in most things, he was never aloof or lordly. The seriousness he showed in his studies was never carried into his playtime. In recreation he was never a swot or a pedant but the centre of all games and merriment. His teachers often marvelled at the zest he put into his games, handicapped, as he was at times, by poor health, for he was never very robust. His warm and sympathetic heart and unfailing gaiety made him a companion much sought after by the other boys. Never did he stoop to cheap popularity, but was at all times and in all circumstances impervious to anything low or mean.

One hot summer’s day some schoolmates asked him to go with them for a swim. Dominic readily joined them in this pleasant and healthy boyish exercise. During the course of the swim the behaviour and conversation of some of the boys were most unbecoming, and Dominic realized with a shock that he had laid himself open to real moral danger. It cut deeply into his sensitive soul, and that night he cried bitterly at the realization that such a favourite boyhood pastime should be turned, by the evil-minded, into an offence against God. He made up his mind never to be led into such danger again. Some days later, when the same boys tried again to persuade him to go with them, he manfully refused, and for the future he was very careful in his choice of companions.

His determination in this regard did not come from prudish or smug self-righteousness. The incident was a challenge to his life’s ideal, “Death rather than sin.” He met the challenge and it meant a dogged struggle, but, as his teacher remarked, “his courage was superhuman.” He needed at times, all the courage he could muster, for his uprightness frequently brought down on him the spite, and in some cases, the hatred of malicious youths. He simply could not stand the truckler and the squealer. A few of this type once planned to corner him, and in some way to destroy his reputation of loyalty to his school authorities.

The teacher one morning discovered a serious offence, so serious as to deserve immediate expulsion. The culprit, helped by some of his companions, plotted to lay the guilt on Dominic They framed their plot and went to the headmaster. So plausible was their story that the master, as he himself afterwards admitted, allowed himself to be persuaded of Savio’s guilt. In his indignation he severely rebuked the boy in public, and thundered his threats of immediate expulsion, if he should ever again be guilty of such despicable conduct.

The assembled school stared with round-eyed amazement at Dominic as he stood silent with head bent, as if in tacit avowal of his guilt.

To the plotters of this mean and contemptible act Savio’s honour and good name were irretrievably shattered. He had either to squeal or bear dishonour. He chose dishonour. The assembled school was dismissed and Dominic was regarded as a fallen idol. But there was no trace of ill-will in his relations with his calumniators; he went about his duties with the same good spirit and diligence.

Later, however, the real culprit was discovered, and the headmaster, full of remorse, asked Dominic why he had made no attempt to clear himself of the charge. The boy replied:

“I said nothing because the other boy had been in trouble before, and this time would certainly have been expelled. But as it was my “first offence” I had hopes of being let off. I also thought of Our Lord and how He had been falsely accused.”

Dominic’s honour was thus vindicated, and the fact that he had not squealed on his calumniator made him a greater sport than ever in the eyes of the boys, and in the estimation of his teachers a pupil of inflexible character.

THE APOSTOLIC SCHOOLBOY

At twelve years old Dominic felt called to the priesthood. His parish priest accordingly advised his father to apply to Don Bosco in Turin. Don Bosco promised to interview the boy on his next visit to Murialdo, which was not far from Mondonio, where the Savio family had now taken up their abode. The meeting of the saint and the schoolboy took place early in October, 1854, and Don Bosco himself relates what took place that morning.

“I was struck by his serene expression and cheerful but modest demeanour. I sensed at once the work of Divine Grace in one so young and was filled with admiration. We understood each other perfectly at once. We talked for some time and then Dominic asked:

“Well, Father, what do you think of me? Will you take me back to Turin with you?”

“Dominic, I think there is some good stuff in you.”

“Good stuff, Father! “What is it good for?”

“To make a fine vestment for Our Lord.”

“Splendid idea, Father. I”11 be the cloth; you be the tailor. So take me with you and start the cutting out at once.” “I”m afraid your health will not stand the study ahead.”

“Never fear, Father. God has given me health enough so far. He will not let me down now.”

“What are you going to be?”

“If God gives me the grace, I want to be a priest.”

“Good. Now I want to see how quick you are at your lessons. Take this book and learn page nine by heart; then come along tomorrow and we’ll see how you got on.”

Dominic ran out to join in the fun with the other boys Don Bosco had brought to Murialdo on one of his customary picnics. But before taking part in the games he looked steadily at page nine, read it over a few times, and within eight minutes ran back joyfully to Don Bosco with the whole page by heart. Don Bosco was amazed and exclaimed:

“Bravo, Dominic! Since you have learnt it so quickly, you can have my answer right now. Yes, you can come with me to Turin and be one of my boys.”

Dominic hardly knew what to say in return but in gratitude he gasped a promise.

“I will try never to give you cause to complain.” With that he rushed out in the open field and threw himself into the fun with sheer joy and delight.

A month later Dominic stood in Don Bosco’s room in his school at Turin, known as the Oratory of St. Francis of Sales. It was his first day at his new school and he felt at home from the outset. A large inscription painted on the wall of the humble room caught the lad’s eye. It read: “Give me souls; take away all else.” He studied it attentively and then made his comment:

“I see, Father, here your business is souls, not money. I hope I will have a share in your business.”

This apostolate for souls was the specific element Don Bosco was to infuse into the ardent soul of this schoolboy. From the very outset of his new life at St. John Bosco’s school the boy’s interior life, already so intense in one so young, broke out into a startling apostolate at school. He became, in more modern terminology, a “Catholic Actionist.” Pius XI, in declaring him the Venerable Servant of God on July 9, 1933, declared:

“Dominic, therefore, is truly a providential lesson for our own times, especially for our young people, who are so enthusiastically and courageously rallying to Our call for Catholic Action.”

There was no phase of school life outside the sweep of his apostolate. War against indecent literature, against blasphemy, against hatred and ill-will of every kind; a crusade for more frequent Communion, for devotion to Mary Immaculate and for the teaching of the Catechism among his companions, these were some of the objectives of his apostolate for souls.

One day a lad lounged against the wall in the playground, his eyes glued to an indecent picture in a cheap magazine. Several of his kind craned their necks over his shoulder to feast their eyes. Dominic joined the growing crowd to see what was going on. As soon as he became aware of the nature of the attraction he pushed his way ahead, snatched the magazine and tore it to bits. For a split second there was dead silence. Then his voice rang out clear and fearless in denunciation:

“Cut this out, chaps; there’s no room for such stuff here.” The lads shuffled uneasily in their guilt, and then one took up the defence.

“But it was only a joke,” he protested.

“You’ll hardly see the funny side of it when you’re burning in hell,” was Dominic’s rejoinder. It stifled any further defence. Dominic, however, was never merely repressive; he appealed to their finer instincts.

“Can’t you see,” he pleaded, “that God gave you your eyes to see and to admire the beauty of His creation, not to look upon such sinful things as that?”

His manliness and moral courage won their respect and admiration.

Blasphemy or irreverence of any kind shocked and pained him profoundly. His reaction was always quick and spontaneous.

One day while on a walk his friend noticed him take off his cap and murmur something to himself.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Did you not hear that shopkeeper take Our Lord’s Name in vain?” Dominic replied. “I would certainly have pointed it out to him, but I feared I might have made matters worse. So I contented myself by saying, “Blessed be the Name of Jesus”.”

On another occasion he overheard a man utter a horrible blasphemy. He whispered an ejaculation of atonement and then walked right up to the blasphemer and said respectfully:

“Excuse me, sir. Could you tell me, please, how to get to the Oratory of St. Francis of Sales?”

His gentle manner mollified the man’s ruffled temper, and he became more affable: “I”m sorry, lad, I can’t help you. I”ve never heard of such a place.”

“Thanks just the same,” Dominic replied; “you might help me some other way.”

“Certainly, my lad, I”11 do all I can.”

Dominic came up closer to the big man and said in an undertone: “I”d be very glad if you refrained from blaspheming when you’re in a temper.”

The man was dumbfounded for an instant, but the boy’s frankness and courage refreshed him.

“You’re right, my son. It’s a bad habit of mine. I”11 do my best to get rid of it.”

At times Dominic had to assume the role of peacemaker among his schoolmates and try to check the universal tendency of school boys to settle their disputes with their fists. On one such occasion two lads had a fierce tussle in which their respective family reputation was impugned most bitterly. There was murder in the air. A fight with fists was out of the question. Family honour could only be vindicated by more murderous methods. The supporters of the rivals contended that dishonour could only be effaced by the traditional duel. But neither sword nor pistol was to hand, so all that could be done was to have recourse to man’s most primitive weapon, the stone. A duel with stones was then decided on with adventurous solemnityand the whole group of boys were sworn to secrecy. Dominic, who was in the “know,” tried to reconcile the enemies but they were beyond the appeal of reason. They had sworn revenge on each other and they would see the matter through without any show of cowardice.

“Very well,” said Dominic, “if you mean to go on with this fight, will you promise me one thing?”

Savio’s standing with the whole school was too great to be brushed aside without further consideration. “All right, Savio,” agreed the lads, “provided you do nothing to stop the fight.”

“You can carry on your fight after you’ve kept your promise.”

“What is it?” they asked.

“That’s my secret,” affirmed Dominic; “you’ll know what it is when you get there.”

“Look here, Savio, you’re trying to fool us and to stop the fight.”

“I”m doing nothing of the kind. All I want is your promise to do what I ask. Now let us get along.”

The site chosen for the fight was an open stretch of waste land on the outskirts of the city. The duelists chose five stones each and took up their stand about fifteen yards apart. As they stood face to face all their enmity and personal bitterness blazed forth anew, The violence of their hatred robbed them of the sense of danger there was in their deadly fight. They poised to take aim, but like a flash Dominic rushed into the fray and stood motionless and hatless midway between the enraged combatants.

“Now friends, this is the moment of your promise. Look steadily at this.” He held aloft a small crucifix. “Now say aloud with me. “My Lord died on the Cross forgiving His enemies. I now will offend Him by my wilful act of vengeance”.”

With this he pocketed his crucifix and turning to the one and the other he said:

“Now begin your fight, but throw the first stone at me.”

The boys were completely taken by surprise and the sight of their mutual friend standing between them and their murderous intent shook them for the moment in their evil determination.

Then the more infuriated of the two yelled out hoarsely:

“Get out of the way, Savio, we don’t want to hurt you.”

“No, you don’t want to hurt me, yet you do not scruple to offend God by this sinful outburst of hate and revenge. Can’t you see just how senseless the whole thing is? It’s not a clean outright fight. It’s sheer sense less murder.”

This last minute appeal made so unexpectedly by their friend blunted the edge of their fury. They lost their bravado and their better sense prevailed. One of them dropped his stones and shuffled over to his schoolbooks lying on the ground. He picked them up and made off in the direction of the city. In the distance the belfries pealed out across the evening stillness and the Angelus chimed over another triumph of grace as a boy knelt in sorrow outside the confessional of a city church.

“JESUS AND MARY SHALL BE MY FRIENDS”

From his childhood Dominic had shown an extraordinary devotion to Our Lord in the Blessed Sacrament. At the school of St. John Bosco this devotion was paramount. In fact the saint’s system of education was fundamentally Sacramental. He gave his boys every opportunity for frequent Confession and Holy Communion. Dominic made full use of this opportunity and his love and devotion to the Holy Eucharist was the source of all the joy and zeal that characterized his young life. His daily Communion and his frequent visits to the Blessed Sacrament transformed his youthful ardour into apostolic zeal, which, as Pope Pius XI affirmed, “animated the whole life of this fortunate boy.”

It happened one morning that Dominic was missing from breakfast and at the midday meal he had not put in an appearance. No one knew where he was. Don Bosco was informed and he at once surmised where he might be. He went into the chapel and there in a corner near the Sanctuary he saw the boy standing motionless with his gaze fixed on the Tabernacle. The priest called him softly by name but there was no response. He came nearer and touched him on the arm. The boy merely looked at him and asked:

“Oh, is the Mass over?”

“See,” said Don Bosco, holding out his watch, “it’s nearly two o‘clock.”

Dominic apologized for breaking the rule and went off about his ordinary duties. On another occasion Don Bosco heard a conversation going on in the Sanctuary. He went to investigate and there saw Dominic holding a conversation with someone invisible.

“I will die,” he was protesting, “rather than commit sin.”

Don Bosco asked him what happened on these occasions and Dominic replied with great simplicity and frankness:

“I seem to get distracted and lose the trend of my prayers. Then I see such beautiful sights that make the hours pass like moments.”

There were many extraordinary incidents in Dominic’s life connected with the Blessed Sacrament. He rushed suddenly one day into Don Bosco’s room.

“Come quickly, Father,” he said, “you’re needed at once.”

“Where am I to go?” the priest asked.

“Hurry, Father, hurry. Follow me.”

Off he went in haste through a poor quarter of Turin with the priest following him in silence. At length the boy stopped before a house and then went up to the third floor and knocked on a door.

“It’s here you’re wanted, Father.”

With that he went off. A woman came to the door and seeing the priest exclaimed in surprise:

“Quick, Father, quick, or you’ll be too late. My husband gave up the practice of his faith and now he wants to be reconciled before he dies.”

The man had just time to make his confession and his peace with God. On his return, Don Bosco asked the boy how he knew there was a man dying in that house. Dominic, however, seemed reluctant to explain and the priest did not press him further.

On another occasion Dominic knocked at a door and asked if there were anyone in the house sick with the cholera. The man at the door affirmed that there was no one suffering from that dread disease in the house.

“I”m sure there must be someone sick here,” persisted Dominic.

“I”m afraid you’ve mistaken the house. We are all safe and well in here. Are you sure you’ve come to the right house?”

The boy went across the street and took a good look at the house. He came back and knocked again.

“I”m sorry to annoy you,” he said politely to the exasperated man, “but there must be a sick person here. This is the house, all right.”

The man was on the verge of being rude, but the earnest plea of the boy and his apparent goodness of heart checked him.

“All right,” he snapped, “have it your way. Come in and we’ll take a look.”

They went from room to room, floor to floor and no one sick was discovered. At length they came to an old lumber room where, to the man’s horror, they found an old woman huddled up and on the point of death. She was a charwoman and kept her mops and brooms in the room. She had gone there that morning to get them before going out to her work and had collapsed, a victim to the disease. The priest was sent for and arrived just in time to administer the Last Sacraments.

On July 9, 1933, when Pius XI declared Dominic the Venerable Servant of God, the Pontiff, in his panegyric on the holiness of life of this boy, said:

“He possessed the purity of the lily, as angelic purity, inspired by his tender devotion to the Most Holy Virgin, the Mother of all Purity. This virtue was always carefully guarded, first by his parents, then by Don Bosco and his Salesians. The boy himself was ever on the offensive to protect this beautiful virtue. He marshalled all the energies of his great soul against anything that might have the remotest danger for this virtue. Purity- this indispensable, this forerunner of all other gifts of God, the gift of the greatest vocations. Purity! the love of Mary, of her Divine Son, this perfume to which the heart of God so readily responds! How great is the need to lift on high the standard of this resplendent virtue among our youth of today!”

Dominic’s inviolable purity was the measure of his devotion to Our Lady. It proved how strong and unshakeable this devotion really was. St. John Bosco himself attests:

“Dominic’s life was a continual act of devotion to the Blessed Virgin.”

The output of that life of devotion to Mary Immaculate was Dominic’s insuperable chastity. In 1854, Pius IX defined the dogma of the Immaculate Conception of Our Lady.

Dominic wanted to do something to perpetuate in some way the affectionate remembrance of this august title of the Mother of God.

“I would like to do something to honour Our Lady and I must do it soon or I shall be too late.”

He did it. He founded among his companions the Sodality of the Immaculate Conception, which still exists in Salesian schools throughout the world today. The aim of the Sodality was to practise and spread devotion to the Mother of God and to promote frequent Communion among his companions. The Sodality was a powerful influence in the school in promoting piety, and especially in enkindling love and devotion to God’s Holy Mother. Our Lady did not fail to reward her young apostle with several remarkable graces.

One day Dominic came to Don Bosco to ask leave to go home as his mother was seriously ill and that Our Lady wanted to cure her.

“How did you get this news of your mother’s illness?” asked the priest. “Has any one written to your”

“No one has written or said a word to me, Father, but I know just the same.”

That was enough for Don Bosco. He did not press the matter further. He knew the boy’s extraordinary virtue and his supernatural sources of knowledge, so he let him go. Dominic arrived home to find his mother’s condition very critical. His father had gone off to fetch the doctor. Dominic entered the sick room and, jumping on the bed, embraced and kissed his mother fondly. He then left her as quickly as he had come and returned directly to Turin. On his arrival he went straight to Don Bosco and told him all that happened and how Our Lady had cured his mother. In the meantime, the doctor came and found the mother completely recovered. The neighbours, who had gathered to be of some assistance, found a silk cord around the mother’s neck, to which was attached a medal of Our Lady. Dominic had put it there when he embraced his mother and Our Lady had worked the cure. The cord and medal were treasured by the Savio family and used under the instruction of Dominic in similar cases with the same miraculous results.

On another occasion, Don Bosco thought it wise to send Dominic home for a time as his health gave some reason for anxiety. The boy accordingly set out by coach for home but had to complete the journey for some miles on foot. He reached home very tired and unexpected as he had not informed his mother of his home-coming. The good woman was completely surprised when he came in foot-sore and tired.

“Whatever has happened, Dominic?” she asked in astonishment. “Have you come all this way alone?”

“No, mother, I was not alone. As soon as I got out of the coach at Castelnuovo, a beautiful and majestic lady was waiting to meet me, and she came with me all the way.”

“Then why didn’t you ask her in to rest for a while?”

“I couldn’t, mother. As soon as I got here she disappeared and I saw her no more.”

The good woman hurried outside and looked up and down the road but there was no sign of a lady anywhere. She wondered who the lady could have been. In her mind there was a query: “Was the beautiful lady who had accompanied her boy on the way home the Mother of God?” Certainly in the realization of the boy’s deep and constant devotion to the Immaculate Heart of Mary, it seems in no way unlikely that she would disdain to protect, if need be, by her visible presence this child of predilection.

DOMINIC”S LOVE OF PENANCE

“The life of Dominic Savio,” attested Pius XI, “all prayer and penance, even if it does not rise to the heights of the austerities told of in the history of sanctity, was, nevertheless, a life of true penance. Indeed, it gives a most useful lesson to us all, especially to the youth of our day, because it was a penance possible to all. He showed in his life a continual vigilance and the command of the spirit over the body.”

Dominic, young as he was, was fully persuaded that he could not preserve the innocence of his life without the practice of penance. Yet there were several reasons why he should not undertake the practice of penance. There was his age, for he was not yet fifteen; the delicate state of his health and the purity of his life. Yet withal he was imbued with the spirit of penance and had resolved to fast on bread and water every Saturday in honour of Our Lady, but his confessor forbade him to do so. He began to fast during Lent and Don Bosco, on hearing of this, would not allow him to continue. The boy then sought for permission to go without his breakfast, but his state of health would not permit this.

His youthful ardour, however, sought ways and means to mortify himself secretly. He put pieces of sharp iron and wood in his bed, and in winter discarded the extra blankets supplied to the boys. He tried his hardest to come by a hairshirt, but his secret devices of penance were discovered, and his Superiors wisely restrained him from any practice of severe bodily penance. He then set himself to practise penance in other ways. He bore without complaint the heat or the cold; at table he passed the choicest food to others and gave himself generously to the service of the sick and the infirm. Yet he felt he should undertake something more severe.

“I really don’t know what to do,” he said rather sadly to Don Bosco one day Our Lord says that without penance we cannot get to heaven and I have been forbidden all forms of penance. My chances of getting to heaven are not very great.” “The penance God asks of you is obedience.” Put up with everything for the love of God,” Don Bosco replied, “and you will be sure of gaining merit in His sight.”

At these words Dominic seemed satisfied and went happily on his way.

THE PLAYGROUND APOSTLE

No sketch of Dominic’s life, no matter how brief, would be complete without some reference to this charming phase of his apostolate.

“If I could win all my schoolmates to God, how happy I would be!”

This was the inspiration of his school life, and the playground was his mission field. He was the life and soul of every recreation and game, which he used as a means to serve God with an ever-cheerful heart. Don Bosco once remarked:

“Savio catches more souls with his games and tricks than many a priest with his preaching.”

His ever happy mood and lively happy spirits made him a great favourite at playtime and the other boys readily joined him in what ever games he organized. By preference Dominic was frequently to be found with the troublesome and the wayward, but his playmate of predilection was the careless and indifferent boy in the practice of his religion. Here he would use all the skill of an angler until he had hooked his fish. Shouldering his bat he would come with a cheery invitation to a game, and then with tireless zest, as though nothing else mattered, throw him self into the play. Hot and flushed he would call for a breathing-space and as they cooled off, he would ask the lad quite unaffectedly: “What about coming to Confession on Saturday?”

Invariably the trick worked.

At other times he would come into the playground with an orange or a handful of roasted chestnuts and call out loudly above the noise of recreation:

“Who wants an orange? Who would like some chestnuts?” Naturally, they all wanted the prize, but Dominic saw to it that the lucky boy was the winner in an impromptu Catechism quiz. Not unusually, with an ulterior motive on Dominic’s part, the winner turned out to be the worst boy in the school.

His moral ascendancy over his companions was clearly evidenced time and time again. They took from him with pleasure the advice they would not have too readily taken from others.

One day during playtime a man came up to some boys and began to tell them funny stories. He was soon the centre of a large group of lads all hanging on his words. Seeing the ready response of his audience, the man suddenly changed the topic of his conversation and began to revile religion and morality. A few of the more sensible boys, aware of his motives, tried to persuade the others to come away from the offender, but they took no notice and remained listening to his impious talk. Dominic appeared on the scene and no sooner had he grasped what was taking place than he abruptly called out:

“Come away, boys! Don’t you see he’s out for no good?”

The boys, obedient to the voice of a friend, whom they loved and respected, ran off to join the games and left the devil’s agent talking to the thin air. This apostolate of the playground is a marked feature of St. John Bosco’s system of education. St. Dominic Savio is a pre-eminent example of its efficacy.

DOMINIC”S LOVE OF ENGLAND

In the early months of 1857 Dominic’s failing health again gave cause for anxiety and Don Bosco thought it prudent to send the boy to the country, hoping that the change of air might help to restore his strength. Accordingly, on March 1 of that year Dominic was leaving Don Bosco’s school for his home in Mondonio and priest and pupil stood on the threshold to say a few words of good-bye.

“Why,” asked Don Bosco, “are you unwilling to leave us? You should be glad you’re going home to see your parents.” “I wanted, Father, to end my days here at the Oratory.”

“Never mind! You’ll come back again when you’re better.”

“No, Father, I won’t come back. I am going now, but I shall never return.”

He held out his hand to this great priest, who, during the three years at his school, had moulded him into a giant of sanctity.

“Good-bye, Father. You will have none of my poor body, so I must take it to Mondonio. Yet I would not have been such a burden to you much longer; all would have soon been over. But God’s will be done! If you go to Rome, remember what I told you about England, and tell the Holy Father all about it. Goodbye till we meet in heaven.” How can we account for this love of a boy of fifteen for England, a land he had never seen and whose language he did not speak? England seemed to be the beloved object of those mysterious longings the Holy Spirit had fostered in the ardent soul of this apostolic boy. He had long desired and prayed to become a priest that he might go to labour for the conversion of England, and now his last thought on the day of his departure from Don Bosco, and on the very threshold of eternity, was for England.

It is not unusual to find in the childhood of great saints interior longings to go to some foreign land to win souls for

Christ. St. Teresa of Avila wanted to go to convert the Moslems, the Little Flower to China; England for Dominic Savio was the land of his missionary dreams. It happened this way. It struck Don Bosco how frequently Dominic, towards the end of his life, spoke of the Holy Father and expressed a keen desire to see him before he died, alleging that he had something of great importance to tell him. Don Bosco one day asked him what this secret was he had to tell the Pope. “If I could see the Holy Father,” he replied, “I would tell him, although great suffering is in store for him, not to lessen his solicitude for England because God is preparing a great triumph for Catholicism in that kingdom.” “What makes you think that, Dominic?” Don Bosco asked.

“I will tell you, but please don’t tell any one else, because they might laugh at me. I was making my thanksgiving one morning after Holy Communion and I had a great distraction. I seemed to see a vast plain covered in darkness and filled with a multitude of people groping about like travellers who had lost their way. A person standing beside me said: ““This country is England.”

“I was on the point of asking for a further explanation when I saw our Holy Father, Pius IX, just as I have seen him in portraits. He was majestically dressed and held aloft a bright torch. As he advanced the darkness dispelled and the whole land was bright as if ablaze with the noon-day sun. The voice again said:

““That torch is the Catholic Faith, that will again enlighten England.”

This “distraction,” or what seems more likely, this prophetic vision, impressed indelibly the thought of England on the boy’s mind. He spoke often of England to Don Bosco and to his companions. So imbued was he with the longing to work for England that he inspired St. John Bosco himself with an ever-growing love for England and a burning zeal for its conversion.

The late Cardinal Salotti in his “Life of Dominic Savio” gives an explanation of this “distraction.” He says: “The words of Savio were doubly prophetic. When he mentioned the sorrows, which were to overwhelm the soul of

Pius IX, he doubtless foresaw the way of Calvary to be trodden by the Pope after the exile of Gaeta. And when he comforted him by the vision of England, he foretold how Almighty God was preparing by means of the Sovereign Pontiff, a triumph for religion in that country; a triumph fulfilled in the numerous conversions and in the liberty granted to

Catholic worship. Who knows that after receiving the Sacred Host, he perhaps, saw and rejoiced in, from afar, the wonderful days of September, 1908, when, during the Solemn Eucharistic Congress in London, 20,000 school children assembled on the Thames Embankment and walked in procession to Westminster Cathedral, amidst a multitude of devout onlookers; and when the Cardinal Legate of the Pope himself walked in this imposing demonstration of faith along the flower-strewn streets of this great metropolis, while hymns were raised to proclaim the triumph of the Holy Eucharist.” Don Bosco related this vision of Dominic’s to Pius IX, and, the Pope, greatly consoled by the message, saw in it the

Divine approbation of his restoration of the Hierarchy in England a few years previously.

DOMINIC”S DEATH

A few days after his arrival home Dominic grew weaker and the doctor pronounced his condition serious. He asked his father to call the priest, and he later received the Last Sacraments with indescribable devotion and fervour.

“Now I am at peace. With Our Divine Lord I am not afraid to set out on the long journey to eternity.”

It was March 9, 1857, and as his strength diminished rapidly, he looked at the Crucifix and repeated some verses of a favourite hymn. He then turned to his father:

“Father, it is time. Get my prayer-book and say the prayers for a happy death.”

The father in great sorrow read the prayers to which his dying son responded. When the prayers had been said, the boy added:

“Yes, Father, that is just what I want; To sing the praises of God for all eternity.”

After a brief rest he opened his eyes again and said with a smile:

“Good-bye, Father, goodbye.” Then, after a pause: “Oh, what a beautiful sight I see.”

With his hands joined and still smiling he gave up his young soul to God.

They buried him in the little graveyard of Mondonio, in an ordinary grave. It was all a poor man could do for his son. But the simple peasant folk regarded it more as a shrine than a tomb, for they called him their “piccolo santo” (their little saint).

The fame of his holiness grew apace and confidence in his power of intercession before God became world-wide. His grave at Mondonio quickly became a place of pilgrimage, and many extraordinary favours and cures of all kinds were obtained through his intercession. In 1914 his Cause for Canonization was formally introduced at Rome, and his remains were raised from the humble grave of Mondonio. This had to be done at night fall as the villagers were hostile to any attempt to take from them their “little saint.” His remains were taken to the great Basilica of Mary, Help of Christians, Turin, which now flanks the very playground where he played and carried out his fruitful apostolate. He rests there now not far from the shrine of his great and loving spiritual Father, St. John Bosco, who so perfectly made of this “good stuff” a “fine vestment for the Lord.”

Dominic Savio was declared a Venerable Servant of God by Pius XI on July 9, 1933, and was beatified by our present Holy Father, Pius XII, on March 5, of this Holy Year of 1950. This was a great day of triumph for this schoolboy who had sanctified himself at school. There was nothing extraordinary in his life. He set before himself an ideal and he achieved it. Never before has the Glory of Bernini in St. Peter’s framed the image of a boy so young, as tens of thousands of faithful from almost every land under the sun hailed him as the Blessed Servant of God.

May God in His love hasten the day when the Church will bestow the supreme glory of sainthood on this Schoolboy Confessor, who in life was on fire with the ideals:

“Death rather than sin.”

“If I could win all my schoolmates to God, how happy I should be.”

Nihil obstat:

W. M. COLLINS, Censor Dioc.

Imprimatur:

@ D. MANNIX,

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis.

********

Saint Dominic, Confessor

FOUNDER OF THE FRIARS PREACHERS

INDEX

A.D. 1221

ST DOMINIC was born in the year 1170 at Calaruega, then Calaroga, in Castile, of which village his father, Felix de Guzman, was royal warden. Practically nothing is known with certainty of Don Felix, though the Guzmans were a noble family, with illustrious connections; his wife was Bd. Joan of Aza, and the few authentic particulars recorded of Dominic’s birth and childhood are mentioned in these pages under the 8th day of this month, which is her feast-day. When he was fourteen years old he left the care ofhis uncle, who was the archpriest of Gumiel d’Izan, and was entered at the school of Palencia. For six years he followed the arts course, and then for four he studied theology, being while still a student made a canon of the cathedral of Osma by his bishop, Martin de Bazan; the stipend of this benefice enabled him to carry out his theological studies to their conclusion, and in 1195 he was ordained priest. After his ordination Dominic went to Osma and took up his duties as a canon. The chapter lived a community life under the Rule of St Augustine with constitutions provided by Martin de Bazan, and their regularity of observance was such as to provide an admirable school for the young priest. His life there was, so far as is known, undistinguished by outward event, a gathering of strength and exercising of virtues for the labours that were to come; he seldom left the canons’ house and spent much time in church, ―weeping for the sins of others, and reading and putting into practice the Conferences of Cassian.‖ Bd. Jordan of Saxony learned from those who had known the holy canon during this time that he appeared‖ as a bright ray of sunshine, in his own humble estimation the least among his brethren, in holiness the first, shedding around himself the fragrance of quickening life, like the sweet smell of pinewoods on a hot summer’s day. He went on from strength to strength, like the wide-spreading olive and the slender tall cypress. . . . A special grace had been given him by God, of experiencing sorrow for sinners, for those in trouble of any kind, and the thought of their misery wrung his heart with a grief that expressed itself outwardly in tears. . . . He especially asked God that true charity should help him in the effective salvation of souls, for he could not regard himself as a real member of the mystical body of Christ until his whole time should be spent in gaining men, as his Lord had spent Himself for them on the cross.‖ It is not surprising then that he was soon made subprior, and when Diego d’Azevedo became bishop of Osma about 1201 he succeeded him as prior of the chapter. He was then thirty-one years old, and had been leading this contemplative life for six or seven years; it at last came to an end, and Dominic began his work in the world in unexpected fashion in 1203.

In that year Alfonso IX, King of Castile, chose the Bishop of Osma to go as ambassador to the Lord of the Marches to negotiate a match between the daughter of that prince and his son, Prince Ferdinand. Which ―Marches‖ were in question is not known. Some take it for a province in the north of Germany or in Sweden; others for a territory of that name in Limousin in France. The bishop took Dominic with him. On their way they passed through Languedoc, which was then filled with the heresy of the Albigenses. He in whose house they lodged at Toulouse professed it, and St Dominic, pierced to the heart with compassion for the man, spent the whole night in discussion with him, and with such effect that with the light of morning came the light of faith, and the man abjured his errors. It is generally supposed that from this moment Dominic knew what work God required of him. They proceeded on their journey, the treaty of marriage was concluded, and the ambassadors returned to Spain; then they were sent back with a suitable retinue to conduct the princess thither. They arrived at her father’s house only to assist at her funeral, so they sent back their equipage into Spain, and went themselves to Rome to ask of Pope Innocent III leave to go to preach the Gospel to the infidels in the East. The Pope at once appreciated their zeal and virtue, but exhorted them rather to choose the neighbouring harvest and to oppose a heresy which threatened the Church at home. The bishop begged that he might be allowed to resign his episcopal see in Spain. This his Holiness would not consent to, but gave him leave to stay two years in Languedoc. On their return they made a visit to Citeaux, whose monks were the officially appointed organizers and preachers against the Albigenses; here Don Diego received the Cistercian habit, and almost at once set out for his diocese with St Dominic and a band of missioners. But at Montpellier they met the Abbot of Citeaux, together with two monks, Peter of Castelnau and Raoul of Fontefroide, who had been in charge of the missions in Languedoc, and Diego and Dominic confirmed their observations of why all these efforts against the heresy were fruitless. The Albigensian system was based on the dualism of two opposing principles, good and evil, and all matter was regarded as in itself evil; therefore the reality of the Incarnation was denied and all the sacraments rejected: human perfection, so far as it was attainable, required complete abstinence from procreation and the minimum of eating and drinking; suicide was, indeed, a most praiseworthy act. The rank and file of the Albigensians did not attempt any such austerity of life, but the inner circle of the ―Perfect‖ maintained an heroic standard of purity and asceticism, against which the rather easygoing observance of the Cistercian monks looked mediocre. In the circumstances a reasonable use of material things was the wrong weapon for Christian orthodoxy to use: the good common people followed those who were obviously leading an heroic life for Christ-and these were not the Cistercian preachers. When they saw this, St Dominic and the Bishop of Osma invited these preachers to follow more closely the example of their opponents: to give up travelling with horses and retinues and staying at the best inns, with servants to wait on them. Then, when they had shown themselves worthy of being listened to, to use persuasion and peaceful discussion, rather than threats and overbearingness. The task was the more difficult and dangerous in that Albigensianism was a different religion rather than an heresy from Christianity, and in its more fanatical forms threatened human society as such. Dominic maintained that its spreading torrent could be stemmed, and God was pleased to make his preaching the instrument of His grace to open the ears and to soften the hearts of many. And the example he urged others to give he was the first to give himself: except out of consideration for others he rarely ate more than bread and soup, his wine was two-thirds water, he slept on the floor unless, tired out with walking and talking, he lay down by the side of the road.

The first conference of the missionaries with the heretics was held at Servian in 1206 and lasted eight days, during which several remarkable conversions were wrought. They preached after this eight days at Béziers, where the far greater number shut their ears against the Catholic faith. Diego and Dominic proceeded thence to Carcassonne, Verfeuil, Fanjeaux, Pamiers, and Montréal, but nowhere did they have any startling success. At one public debate the judges submitted St Dominic’s statement of the Catholic faith to the ordeal by fire, and three times the written parchment was rejected unharmed by the flames. But the hold of the heresy, supported for their own reasons by the great lords, temporal and spiritual, was too strong, and neither right-living, exposition, nor miracles could move the people. The beginning of the mission was a failure, and the disappointed Diego returned to Osma, leaving his companion in France. But before he went St Dominic had already taken that step which was the first in the definite foundation of his order, by which the tide of Albigensianism began to be stayed. He was greatly concerned by the activities of women in the propagation of Albigen. sianism (the ―ordinary woman‖ had more intellectual influence in the Middle Ages than she has now), and also by the fact that many Catholic girls of good family were, on the one hand, exposed to evil influences in their homes and, on the other, were sent to Albigensian convents to be educated. On the feast of St Mary Magdalen, 1206, he had a sign from Heaven, and in consequence of it within six months he had founded at Prouille, near Fanjeaux, a monastery of our Lady to shelter nine nuns, all of whom were converts from the heresy. ―Lie put these servants of Christ under the protection of wonderful observance, of strict silence, and permanent enclosure. He gave them the spinning of wool as their manual work to occupy them in the intervals of their religious exercises. He entrusted the care of their souls to the brothers of his order established outside the cloister, keeping for himself with the title of prior the spiritual administration of the convent,‖ wrote Humbert de Romans. It would appear that a house of the “brothers” referred to was founded at the same time and place. Thus St Dominic began to provide for a supply of trained and virtuous preachers, for a shelter for converted ladies, for the education of girls, and for a permanent house of prayer.

The murder of the Pope’s legate, Peter of Castelnau, who was assassinated by a servant of the Count of Toulouse and another ruffian, on January 15, 1208, and other outrages committed by the heretics, let loose a crusade, with all the attendant horrors of civil war. The Albigensians were led by Raymund, Count of Toulouse, the Catholics by Simon de Montfort, de iureEarl of Leicester, who captured Fanjeaux in 1209, Lavaur in 1211, La Penne d’Ajen in 1212. Béziers was sacked and the population decimated, and the victories of Montfort were everywhere accompanied by harsh and cruel severity. In this St Dominic had no share, and made use of no other arms to repulse injuries than those of meekness and patience. He never complained of insults or wrongs which he received, courageously encountered every danger wherever the good of souls called him, and sought only all the good in his power for those who hated and persecuted him. When a guide deliberately led him out of his way, through briery thickets and over rocks, Dominic smilingly thanked him for showing him a short cut; when he had escaped from assassins, he replied to a heretic who asked what he would do if he were caught, that, ―I would ask you to kill me slowly and painfully, a little at a time, andso earn a more glorious crown in Heaven.‖ All this was very different from the methods of the official converters. When the army of the crusade approached the saint redoubled his earnestness among the people, and saved many. When he went among the crusaders, the disorders, vices, and ignorance of the mysteries of faith and duties of a Christian life which he found in many, who had joined that army merely for the sake of plunder, moved his compassion and zeal, and he laboured among them with no less diligence than among the Albigenses.

The military power of the heretics, under Peter of Aragon, was finally crushed at the battle of Muret in 1213, a remarkable victory which Simon de Montfort attributed to the prayers of St Dominic, on his knees in the church of St James. But to the sorrow of thesaint, who was the more distressed at the Earl’s excesses because they were personal friends of one another, the war was unjustly carried on for aggression and conquest till Montfort was killed in battle in 1218. Dominic himself had no illusions as to the efficacy or propriety of inducing Christian orthodoxy by military activity nor, as is sometimes alleged, had he anything to do with the establishment of inquisitions in concert with the civil power, which was done in the Midi from the end of the twelfth century.* He never appears to have in any way concurred in the execution of any of those unhappy persons that then suffered. The authors of his life mention, that by his entreaties he saved the life of a young man who was going to the place where he was to be burnt, the saint assuring the judges that he would die in the Catholic faith; which was verified when, some years after, he became a Catholic and made a happy end in St Dominic’s own order. The original historians mention no other arms to have been used by him against the heretics than those of instruction, patience, penance, fasting, tears, and prayer; and he rebuked his extroubadour supporter, Foulques, Bishop of Toulouse, when he went on a visitation accompanied by soldiers, servants, and sumtermules, with the words, ―The enemies of the Faith cannot be overcome like that. Arm yourself with prayer, rather than a sword; wear humilityrather than fine clothes.‖ Three times efforts were made to raise him to the episcopate, of Béziers in 1212, of Comminges in 1213, of Navarre in 1215: each time he refused firmly. He was called to another work.

St Dominic had now spent nearly ten years preaching in Languedoc, and as leader, though with no canonical status, of a small band of special preachers, whom he had given a headquarters at Prouille. All this time he had worn the habit of a regular canon of St Augustine, and followed that rule. But he earnestly desired to revive an apostolic spirit in the ministers of the altar, the want of which in many was a subject of great scandal to the people, and a great source of the overflowing of vice and heresy. This spirit is founded on a sincere contempt of the world and a perfect disinterestedness; for so long as the love of the world and attachment to its vanity, delights, and riches, keeps possession of a heart there can be no room for the Holy Ghost. The fences by which this spirit had been formerly maintained in the clergy were then by custom easily broken through by many without scruple, and he designed to raise others that might be stronger. With this view, he projected an order of religious men, not like the monks who were contemplatives and not necessarily priests, but who to retirement and exercises of contemplation should join a close application to sacred studies and all the functions of a pastoral life, especially that of preaching. He wished to prescribe perpetual abstinence from flesh meat and severe poverty, that his friars should receive their subsistence from the alms of the faithful, and that they should be organized in such a way that their activities could be extended under central control from one diocese to any part of the Church, forming an institution of a sort new in Christian history.-

* The Dominican order later received charge of the Inquisition with unwillingness. In 1243 they asked to be relieved of the commission, but Pope Innocent IV refused the petition. The provincial chapter of Cahors in the next year forbade the acceptance of any monies accruing from its work. The fifth master general, Blessed Humbert de Romans, instructed the friars to avoid its duties whenever possible. Only two of the inquisitors general of Spain were Dominicans: the notorious and somewhat maligned Torquemada was one of them.

The principal aim of the saint was to multiply in the Church zealous preachers, whose spirit and example might be a means more easily to spread the light of faith and the fire of divine charity, and to assist the pastors in healing the wounds which the Church had received from false doctrine and ill-living. In order that he might have means at his disposal Foulques of Toulouse in 1214 gave him a benefice at Fanjeaux and extended his episcopal approval to the embryonic order in the following year. A few months later Dominic accompanied Foulques to the Fourth Lateran Council as his theologian.

Pope Innocent III, who had then governed the Church eighteen years, received the saint with great kindness and gave his approbation of the nunnery of Prouille. Moreover, he drew up a decree, which he inserted as the tenth canon of the council, to enforce the obligation of preaching, and the necessity of choosing for pastors men who are powerful in words and works, who will instruct and edify their flocks both by example and preaching, a neglect of which was the source of the ignorance, disorders, and heresies that then reigned in several provinces, and ordering that fit men be selected specially for this office of preaching. But to get approval for Dominic’s great project was no easy matter: it contained too many innovations for permission to be given hurriedly, especially as that very Council had legislated against the multiplication of new religious orders. It is said that Innocent had decided to refuse but that, the night following, the Pope dreamed he saw the Lateran church in danger of falling, and that St Dominic stepped in and supported it with his shoulders. Be that as it may, the Pope at last gave a guarded approval of the new order by word of mouth, bidding the founder return to his brethren and select which of the already approved rules they would follow. They met at Prouille in August, 1216 and after consultation with his sixteen colleagues, of whom eight were Frenchmen, seven Spaniards, and one Englishman, he made choice of the rule of St Augustine, the oldest and least detailed of the existing rules, written for priests by a priest, who was himself an eminent preacher. St Dominic added certain particular constitutions, some borrowed from the order of Prémontré. Pope Innocent III died on July i8, 1216, and Honorius III was chosen in his place. This change retarded St Dominic’s second journey to Rome; and in the meantime he finished his first friary at Toulouse, to which the bishop gave the church of St Roniain, and wherein the first community of Dominicans under the rule of St Augustine assembled and began community life under vows.

St Dominic arrived at Rome with a copy of his constitutions in October 1216. He found access to his Holiness difficult for some time, but eventually Honorius III confirmed his order and its constitutions by two bulls, dated 22nd and 23rd December, the same year: ―Considering that the religious of your order will be champions of the faith and a true light of the world, we confirm your order.‖ Instead of returning at once to Toulouse, St Dominic remained in Rome till after Easter, preaching with great effect. He pointed out to the Pope that many of the clerics attached to his court could not attend outside lectures and courses of instruction, and therefore a domestic master of sacred studies in his residence would be of great advantage. His Holiness thereupon created the office of Master of the Sacred Palace, who by his place is the Pope’s personal canonist and theologian, assists at consistories, and nominates the Pope’s preachers. Pope Honorius obliged St Dominic to take upon himself that charge, which has been ever since committed to one of his order. The saint wrote at Rome a commentary on the epistles of St Paul, much commended by writers of that age, but now lost; he had learned what an inexhaustible treasure of piety and spiritual knowledge a Christian preacher will draw from the inspired writings of this apostle. It was during this time that he formed his friendships with Cardinal Ugolino, afterwards Pope Gregory IX, and St Francis of Assisi. The story goes that Dominic saw in a vision the sinful world threatened by the divine anger but saved by the intercession of our Lady, who pointed out to her Son two figures, in one of whom St Dominic recognized himself, but the other was a stranger. Next day while at prayer in a church he saw a ragged beggar come in, and recognized him at once as the man of his dream; going up to him therefore, he embraced him and said, ―You are my companion and must walk with me. For if we hold together no earthly power can withstand us.‖ This meeting of the two founders of the friars is commemorated twice a year, when on their respective feast-days the brethren of the two orders sing Mass in each other’s churches, and afterwards sit at the same table ―to eat that bread which for seven centuries has never been wanting.‖ The character of St Dominic is sometimes assumed to suffer by comparison with St Francis. The comparison is a meaningless one, for actually the two men complete and are complementary to one another, the one corrects and fills out the other: they meet on the common ground of the Faith, tenderness, and love.

On August 13, 1217, the Friars Preachers met under their leader at Prouille. He instructed them on their method of preaching and teaching and exhorted them to unremitting study, but in particular reminded them that their first business was their own sanctification, that they were to be the successors of the Apostles in establishing the kingdom of Christ. He added instructions on humility, distrust of themselves and an entire confidence in God alone, by which they were to stand invincible under afflictions and persecutions, and courageously to carry on the war against the world and the powers of Hell. Then, on the feast of the Assumption, to the surprise of all, for heresy was again gaining ground in all the neighbourhood, St Dominic broke up his band of friars and dispersed them in all directions. ―We must sow the seed,‖ he said, ―not hoard it. You shall no longer live together in this house.‖ Four were sent to Spain, seven to Paris, two returned to Toulouse, two remained at Prouille, and the founder himself in the following December went back to Rome. He wished that he might now resign his part in the nascent order and go into the East to evangelize the Cuman Tartars; but this was not to be.

On his arrival in Rome the Pope gave him the church of St Sixtus (San Sisto Vecchio), and while making a foundation there the saint lectured on theology, both in the Palace and in the City, and preached in St Peter’s with such eloquence as to draw the attention and admiration of the whole city. Theodoric relates that a certain gentlewoman named Gutadona, coming home one day from hearing his sermon, found her little child dead. In her grief she took him in her arms out of the cradle, and carrying him to St Sixtus’s, laid him at the feet of the saint. He was moved to compassion and, after saying a fervent prayer, made the sign of the cross on the child, and restored him to life. The Pope would have published this miracle in the pulpit, but the entreaties of Dominic prevented him. He likewise raised, whole and sound, a mason who had been crushed by the fall of a vault in building the convent of St Sixtus, and restored to health a religious man, whilst his brethren were reciting by his bedside the prayers appointed for one dying.

At this time a large number of nuns lived in Rome without keeping enclosure, and almost without regularity, some dispersed in small monasteries, others in the houses of their parents or friends. Pope Innocent III had made several attempts to assemble all such nuns into one enclosed house, but had not been able, with all his authority, to compass it. Honorius III committed the management of this reformation to St Dominic. The saint desired that three cardinals should be nominated commissaries with him, and his Holiness appointed Ugolino, Dean of the Sacred College, Nicholas, Bishop of Tusculum, and Stephen of Fossa Nuova. St Dominic, in order to remove several difficulties, offered to leave to these nuns his own monastery of St Sixtus, which was built and then ready to receive them, and which Innocent III had formerly offered them; and he received for his friars a house of the Savelli, on the Aventine, with the church of St Sabina. The monastery of St Mary, beyond the Tiber, was the principal and most obstinate of those that were to be thus reformed. The saint went there with the three cardinals, and exhorted the nuns with such force of reasoning and so much charity that he overcame their objections. The abbess first of all, then all the nuns, except one, agreed to obey, but no sooner were the commissaries gone than the parents, friends, and protectors of the nuns ran thither, and buzzed it in their ears that they would repent at leisure of so hasty a step, which could never be recalled; that their house was too ancient and noble, their conduct too virtuous and irreproachable, their privileges of too old a standing to be abrogated, and that no authority could submit them to rules to which they had never engaged themselves, and under which they would never have taken up that manner of life. Accordingly the whole community changed their former mind and determined not to comply. St Dominic gave them some days to reflect, and prevented the Pope from having recourse to strong measures, which never gain the heart and are seldom expedient in duties which must be voluntary; in the meantime he fasted and prayed, recommending the matter to God. After some days he went again to St Mary’s, said Mass there, and afterwards spoke to the nuns, reproaching them for their reluctance, saying, ―Can you then repent of a promise you have made to God? Can you refuse to give yourselves up to Him without reserve, and to serve Him with your whole hearts?‖ His natural sweetness was hard for anyone to resist, and his exhortation was so strong and affecting that at the end of it the abbess and all her nuns confirmed their readiness to comply in all things with thePope’s wishes. They moreover asked that the saint himself would be their director and give them his own rule; to which he agreed. It is related that when, on Ash Wednesday in 1218, the abbess and some of her nuns went to their new monastery of St Sixtus, and were in the chapter house with St Dominic and the three cardinals, a messenger ran in to say that the young Napoleon, Cardinal Stephen’s nephew, was thrown from his horse and killed. At this news the saint endeavoured first to alleviate Stephen’s grief; then ordered the body of Napoleon to be brought into the house, and bid Brother Tancred make an altar ready that he might say Mass. When he had prepared himself, the cardinals with their attendants, the abbess with her nuns, the friars, and a great concourse of people went to the church. The Sacrifice being ended, Dominic, standing by the body, disposed the bruised limbs in their proper places, prayed, rose from his knees, and made the sign of the cross over the corpse; then, lifting up his hands to Heaven, he cried out with a loud voice, ―Napoleon, I say to you in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, arise.‖ That instant, in the sight of all, the young man arose sound and whole.

A foundation having been successfully made by Friar Matthew of France at the University of Paris, St Dominic sent some brethren to the University of Bologna, where, under the guidance of Bd. Reginald of Orleans, one of the most famous of Dominican establishments was set on foot. In 1218 he took a journey through Languedoc into Spain, and founded a friary at Segovia, and another at Madrid, with a convent of nuns directed by his brother, Bd. Manes. He returned to Toulouse in April 1219, and from thence went to Paris, the first and only visit he made to that city. After two months he left Paris, and having founded convents on his road at Avignon, Asti, and Bergamo, arrived at Bologna, about the end of summer in 1219, which city he made his ordinary residence to the end of his life. In 1220 Pope Honorius III officially confirmed Dominic’s title and office as master general, and at Pentecost was held the first general chapter of the order, at Bologna, at which were drawn up the final constitutions which made the organization of the Friars Preachers ―the most perfect of all the monastic organizations produced by the Middle Ages‖ (Hauck). In the same year the Pope ordered the Dominicans to undertake a preaching crusade in Lombardy, in company with certain monks. St Dominic took the field, but the mission was abortive, although 100,ooo heretics are said to have been reconciled.

Wherever the saint travelled, he preached; and he never ceased to pray for the conversion of infidels and sinners. It was his earnest desire, if it had been God’s will, to shed his blood for Christ, and to travel among the barbarous nations of the earth to announce to them the good news of eternal life. Therefore did he make the ministry of the word the chief end of his institute: he would have all his religious to be applied to it, every one according to his capacity, and those who had particular talents for it never to discontinue the office of preaching, except in intervals allotted to retirement that they might preach to themselves in silence. The vocation of his friars is ―to hand on to others the fruits of contemplation,‖ and for this high work he prepares the religious by long habits of virtue, especially of prayer, humility, selfdenial, and obedience. It was a saying which he frequently repeated to them, ―That a man who governs his passions is master of the world. We must either rule them, or be ruled by them. It is better to be the hammer than the anvil.‖ He taught his missionaries the art of preaching to the heart by animating them with charity. Being once asked after preaching in what book be had studied his sermon, ―In no other,‖ said he, ―than in that of love.‖ Learning, study of the Bible, and teaching were from the beginning of first importance in the order: some of its chief achievements have been in intellectual work and the founder has been called ―the first minister of public instruction in modern Europe.‖ But an eminent spirit of prayer and recollection has at all times been the characteristic of the Dominicans, as it was of St Dominic. A great figure in the order, Bartholomew de Martyribus, Archbishop of Braga, addresses himself to all pastors on this subject:

―Woe to you, ministers of the Lord, if the source of religion be dried up in your souls. This tender and sincere spirit of piety is the spring of living water which gives fertility to all our virtues and sanctifies all our actions, which without it are dry and barren. This is the heavenly wine which fortifies our hearts with a joy altogether divine. This is the balsam which mollifies our passions. It is -the tongue with which we speak to God, and without which our souls are dumb before Him. It is this that draws down upon us the heavenly dew that strengthens our hearts; it is the spiritual nourishment which enables us to labour with fruit in the vineyard of the Lord.‖

St Dominic was inflexible in maintaining the severe discipline he had established. Coming back to Bologna in 1220, after seeing the poverty of St Francis at Crimean, he was so much offended to find the convent of his friars in that city being built in a stately manner not consistent with his idea of the austere poverty and penance which he professed by his rule, that he would not allow the work to be continued. This was the discipline and strength that was behind the rapid spread of his order; by the second general chapter in 1221 it had some sixty friaries divided into eight provinces; friars had already got to Poland, Scandinavia, and Palestine, and Brother Gilbert with twelve others had established monasteries in Canterbury, London, and Oxford. The Order of Preachers is still world-wide.

After the second general chapter, which was held at Bologna, Dominic visited Cardinal Ugolino at Venice. On his return he was ill, and he was taken to a country place for the better air. But he knew he was dying. To his brethren he spoke of the beauty of chastity, and, having no temporal goods, made his last testament in these words: ―These, my much-loved ones, are the bequests which I leave to you as my sons: have charity among you; hold to humility; keep willing poverty.‖ He spoke more at length on this subject of poverty, and then at his request was carried back to Bologna that he might be buried‖ under the feet of his brethren.‖ Gathered round him, they said the prayers for the dying; at the Subvenite St Dominic repeated those great words, and died. It was the evening of 6th August, 1221; he was fiftyone years old; and he died in that poverty of which he had so lately spoken: ―in Brother Moneta’s bed because he had none of his own; in Brother Moneta’s habit, because he had not another to replace the one he had long been wearing.‖ It may be said of him after death what Bd. Jordan of Saxony wrote of him in life: ―Nothing disturbed the even temper of his soul except his quick sympathy with every sort of suffering. And as a man’s face shows whether his heart is happy or not, it was easy to see from his friendly and joyous countenance that he was at peace inwardly. In spite of his unfailing gentleness and readiness to help, no one could ever despise his radiant nature, which won all who met him and made him attract people from the first.‖ When he signed the decree of canonization of his friend in 1234 Pope Gregory IX (Cardinal Ugolino) said that he no more doubted the sanctity of Dominic than he did that of St Peter or St Paul.

ST DOMINIC, PRAY FOR US

Saint Dymphna

INDEX

PATRONESS OF THOSE AFFLICTED WITH NERVOUS AND MENTAL DISORDERS

ISLE OF SAINTS has long been a title popularly given to the island evangelised by St Patrick, which nestles in the blue waters of the Atlantic. And appropriately it is so called, for the names of Irish saints would more than fill the Church’s calendar. Yet Catholics for the most part are entirely unfamiliar with so many of these glorious saints. One such forgotten or unknown saint, who, on account of her spotless virtue and glorious martyrdom, is sometimes referred to as the ‘Lily of Eire,’ is St Dymphna. True, the records of the life and martyrdom of this holy virgin are for the most part meagre and unsatisfactory, but sufficient is known regarding the principal facts of her life and of her many well-authenticated miracles to attest to an exalted sanctity.

FAVOURED BY NATURE AND GRACE

Dymphna was born in the sixth century, when Ireland was almost entirely Catholic. Yet, strange to say, her father, a petty king of Oriel, was still a pagan. On the other hand, her mother, a descendant of a noble family, was a devout Christian, remarkable both for her piety and her great beauty. Dymphna, like her mother, was a paragon of beauty and a most sweet and winning child, the ‘jewel’ of her home. Every affection and attention was lavished upon her from birth.

Heaven, too, favoured the child with special graces. Dymphna was early placed under the care and tutelage of a pious christian woman who prepared her for baptism, which was conferred by the saintly Father Gerebran. The latter, who seems to have been a member of the household, later taught little Dymphna her letters along with the truths of religion. Dymphna, a bright and eager pupil, advanced rapidly in wisdom and grace.

When still very young, Dymphna, like so many other Irish maidens before and after her, being filled with fervour and love for Jesus Christ, chose him for her divine Spouse, and consecrated her virginity to him and to his blessed Mother by a vow of chastity.

SORROWS AND TRIALS

It was not long, however, before an unexpected cloud overshadowed the happy childhood of the beautiful girl. Her mother died and Dymphna shed many secret tears over this bereavement. At the same time, however, she found great comfort in her faith which already had taken deep root.

Dymphna’s father, too, was in mourn ing for his deceased wife for a long time. At length he was persuaded by his counsellors to seek solace in a second marriage. So he commissioned certain people of his court to search for a woman who would be like his first spouse in beauty and character. After visiting many countries in vain, the messengers returned, saying that they could find none so charming and amiable as his own lovely daughter, Dymphna. Giving ear to their base suggestions, the king conceived the evil design to marry Dymphna. With persuasive and flattering words he manifested his purpose to her. As may be expected, Dymphna was greatly horrified at the suggestion; but to avoid incurring her father’s wrath by outright refusal, she asked for a period of forty days in which to consider the proposal. She had recourse to Father Gerebran immediately. He advised her to flee her native country and since the danger was imminent, to make no delay.

With all speed, therefore, Dymphna set out for the Continent, accompanied by Father Gerebran and the court jester and his wife. After a favourable passage, they landed on the coast near the present city of Antwerp. Having stopped for a short rest, they resumed their journey and came to a little village named Gheel. Here they were hospitably received and began to make plans for making it their permanent residence.

In the meantime the king discove red Dymphna’s flight. Filled with rage, he set out with his followers in search of the fugitives. After some time they were traced to Belgium, and their place of refuge was located. At first Dymphna’s father tried to persuade her to return with him; but Father Gerebran sternly rebuked him for his wicked intentions. Whereupon he gave orders that Father Gerebran should be put to death. Without delay his wicked retainers laid violent hands upon the priest and struck him on the neck with a sword. With one blow of the steel the head was severed from the shoulders, and another glorious martyr went to join the illustrious heroes of Christ’s kingdom.

MARTYRED BY HER FATHER

Further attempts on the part of Dymphna’s father to induce her to return with him proved fruitless. With undaunted courage she spurned his enticing promises and scorned his cruel threats. Infuriated by her resistance, the father drew a dagger from his belt and with his own hand struck off the head of his child. Recommending her soul to the mercy of God, the holy virgin fell prostrate at the feet of her insanely raving father. Thus the glorious crown of martyrdom was accorded to St Dymphna in the fifteenth year of her life, on the fifteenth day of May, between 620 and 640. The day of her death has been assigned as her feast-day.

The records of Dymphna’s life and death say that the bodies of the two martyred saints lay on the ground for quite some time after their death, until the inhabitants of Gheel removed them to a cave, which was the customary manner of interment in that part of the world at the time. But after several years had elapsed, the villagers, recalling their holy deaths, decided to give the bodies a more suitable burial. When the workmen removed the heap of black earth at the cave’s entrance they were astonished to find two beautiful tombs, whiter than snow, which were carved from stone. When the coffin of St Dymphna was opened, there was found lying on her breast a red tile bearing the inscription: ‘Here lies the holy virgin and martyr, Dymphna.’ The remains of the saint were placed in a small church. Later, necessity obliged the erection of the magnificent ‘Church of St Dymphna’ which now stands on the site where the bodies were first buried. St Dymphna’s relics repose there in a beautiful golden reliquary.

PATRONESS OF THE MENTALLY AFFLICTED

Miracles and cures began to occur in continually increasing numbers. Gradually St Dymphna’s fame as patroness of victims of nervous and mental disorders was spread from country to country. More and more, mentally afflicted persons were brought to the shrine by relatives and friends, many coming in pilgrimages from far-distant places. Novenas were made and St Dymphna’s relic was applied to the patients. The remarkable cures reported caused confidence in the saint to grow daily. At first the patients were lodged in a small annex built onto the church. Then gradually it came about that they were placed in the homes of the families living in Gheel.

From this beginning Gheel developed to become a town world-famed for its care of the insane and mentally afflicted. An institution called the ‘Infirmary of St Elizabeth,’ conducted by the Sisters of St Augustine, was later built for the hospital care of the patients. Most of the patients, after some time spent in the institution, are placed in one or other of the families of Gheel, where they lead a comparatively normal life. Every home in Gheel is proud to welcome to its family circle such patients as are ready to return to the environment of family life. Generations of experience have given the people of Gheel an intimate and tender skill in dealing with their changes. Their remarkable spirit of charity and Christ-like love for these afflicted members of society is a lesson to our modern-day world, so prone to put its whole reliance on science and to forget the principles of true Christian charity.

Renowned psychiatrists testify that a surprisingly large number of patients could leave mental institutions if they could be assured of a sympathetic reception in the world, such as the people of Gheel take pride in showing. In fact, psychiatrists state that institutions can help certain cases only to a given extent; and when that point is reached, they must have help from persons outside if the progress made in the institution is to be permanently effective. Gheel is the living confirmation of this statement and an exemplar of the gospel teaching on charity.

DEVOTIONS IN HONOUR OF ST DYMPHNA

LITANY IN HONOUR OF ST DYMPHNA FOR PRIVATE USE ONLY. LORD, HAVE MERCY

Christ, have mercy.

Lord, have mercy.

Christ, have mercy.

Christ, graciously hear us.

God the Father of Heaven, have mercy on us.

God the Son, Redeemer of the world, have mercy on us.

God the Holy Spirit, have mercy on us.

Holy Trinity, one God, have mercy on us.

Holy Mary, virgin and mother of God, pray for us.

Health of the sick, pray for us.

Comfortress of the afflicted, pray for us.

Help of Christians, pray for us.

St Dymphna, virgin and martyr, pray for us.

St Dymphna, daughter of royal parents, pray for us.

St Dymphna, child of great beauty of soul and body, pray for us.

St Dymphna, docile to the lessons of thy pious mother, pray for us.

St Dymphna, obedient to your saintly confessor, pray for us.

St Dymphna, who abandoned the court of thy father to escape the danger of impurity, pray for us. St Dymphna, who chose a life of poverty on earth so that thou might lay up treasures in heaven, pray for us. St Dymphna, who sought strength and consolation in Holy Mass, Holy Communion and prayer, pray for us. St Dymphna, ardent lover of the divine Bridegroom, pray for us.

St Dymphna, devoted to the Mother of God, pray for us.

St Dymphna, beheaded by thine own father, pray for us.

St Dymphna, martyr of holy purity, pray for us.

St Dymphna, brilliant example of christian youth, pray for us.

St Dymphna, renowned for many miracles, pray for us.

St Dymphna, glory of Ireland and Belgium, pray for us.

St Dymphna, full of compassion for those in need, pray for us.

St Dymphna, protector against all nervous and mental disorders, pray for us.

St Dymphna, consoler of the afflicted, pray for us.

St Dymphna, friend of the helpless, pray for us.

St Dymphna, comforter of the despondent, pray for us.

St Dymphna, light of those in mental darkness, pray for us.

St Dymphna, patroness of those who suffer from nervous and mental diseases, pray for us. That we may love the Lord our God with all our hearts and above all things, we beseech thee, hear us. That we may hate sin and avoid all its occasions, we beseech thee, hear us.

That we may carefully preserve the virtue of purity according to our state, we beseech thee, hear us. That we may receive the sacraments frequently, we beseech thee, hear us.

That we may obtain the spirit of prayer, we beseech thee, hear us.

That we may be humble and obedient, resigning ourselves to God’s holy will, we beseech thee, hear us. That we may learn to have confidence in God during our affliction, we beseech thee, hear us. That we may obtain the grace of final perseverance, we beseech thee, hear us.

In moments of temptation, we beseech thee, hear us.

In times of sickness, diseases, war, and persecution, we beseech thee, hear us.

In our last illness, we beseech thee, hear us.

At the hour of death, we beseech thee, hear us.

Lamb of God, Who takest away the sins of the world, spare us, O Lord.

Lamb of God, Who takest away the sins of the world, graciously hear us, O Lord.

Lamb of God, Who takest away the sins of the world, have mercy on us.

V. Pray for us, St Dymphna.

R. That we may be made worthy of the promises of Christ.

Let us pray

O God, since Thou gavest St Dymphna to Thy Church as a model of all virtues, especially holy purity, and willed that she should seal her faith with her innocent blood and perform numerous miracles, grant that we who honour her as patroness of those afflicted with nervous and mental illness, may continue to enjoy her powerful intercession and attain eternal life. Through Christ Our Lord, Amen.

PRA YER FOR CONFORMITY TO GOD’S WILL

O God, who led the holy virgin and martyr St Dymphna through danger and trial to her glorious crown in heaven, help us through her intercession to trust in Thee in all the afflictions and trials of our own lives, and by accepting Thy will, to ascend from the darkness of this life to the eternal glory of heaven. Through Christ Our Lord. Amen.

PRAYER IN ANY AFFLICTION

Compassionate St Dymphna, who restored health and soundness of mind to so many through the power of thy heavenly Bridegroom, Jesus Christ, behold me (or mention the person afflicted) in this suffering. Trusting in thy powerful intercession, I beg thee to ask Jesus, the merciful Healer of the sick, to restore me (or . . . ) that, helped by this grace I (he, she) may serve Him better and promote devotion to thee together with the many others who have experienced thy help. Amen.

Our Father, Hail Mary, Glory be to the Father . . .

PRAYER IN TEMPTATIONS AGAINST PURITY

Lord Jesus Christ, Who hast willed that St Dymphna faithfully preserved the robe of innocence and purity, valiantly resisting all the allurements of evil passions. Help me, too, to overcome all temptations against purity and to remain steadfast in love of Christ, in order to preserve this great gift of God. Implore for me the grace of perseverance in prayer, distrust of myself, and flight from the occasions of sin, and finally the grace of a good death, so that in heaven I may be happy with God for all eternity. Amen.

PRAYER FOR THOSE AFFLICTED WITH

MENTAL ILLNESS

Lord Jesus Christ, Who hast willed that St Dymphna should be invoked by thousands of clients as the patroness of nervous and mental diseases and hast brought about that her interest in these patients should be an inspiration to and an ideal of charity at her great shrine and throughout the world. Grant that, through the prayers of this youthful martyr of purity, those who suffer from nervous and mental illness everywhere on earth may be helped and consoled. I recommend to Thee in particular . . . (here mention those you wish to pray for).

Be pleased to hear the prayers of Saint Dymphna and of Thy blessed Mother, Health of the Sick and Comfortress of the Afflicted, in behalf of those whom I recommend to the love and compassion of Thy Sacred Heart. Give them the consolation they need and especially the cure they so much desire, if it be Thy will. May we all serve Thy suffering members with a charity that may merit for us the reward of being united forever in heaven with Thee, Our Divine Head, who livest and reignest with the Father in the unity of the Holy Spirit forever. Amen.

O God, we beg Thee through Thy servant, St Dymphna, who sealed with her blood the love she had for Thee, her eternal Spouse, to grant relief to those in our midst who suffer from mental afflictions and nervous disorders.

Through Christ Our Lord. Amen.

********

Saint Edith Stein

BY DORIS E. BURTON

INDEX

“EDITH STEIN, A JEWESS AND A CATHOLIC”

THE convent was situated in the little Dutch village of Echt. There reigned a profound peace. But one day as the seventeen Carmelite Sisters knelt at prayer in the chapel, that peace had been rudely shattered. Two sharp knocks on the outer door. Summoned to the parlour the Mother Prioress whispered hastily to her nuns:

“Pray for us. I fear that it is the Gestapo.”

It was. Through the grille, that small barred opening which was the means of communication with the outside world, she received this order from the German secret police.

“Sister Stein is to come with us. She is to be ready to leave here in five minutes.”

“But she cannot. She is an enclosed nun!” exclaimed the Prioress in distress.

“You know what will happen to you and your convent if you refuse to let her go,” replied the man in threatening tones, adding: “She must bring with her a blanket, a mug, a spoon and three days” rations. You understand!”

ARREST—JEWESS, CATHOLIC

And so Edith Stein- Sister Benedicta in religion- had been carried off by the German Gestapo. What had she done? Nothing. She had been arrested because she was both a Jewess and a Catholic. Hers had been no easy path for she had not been brought up as a Christian. Her widowed mother, a deeply religious woman, who carried on herhusband’s thriving timber business at Breslau, in Germany, had reared her seven children in the Jewish faith. Edith loved her home with its pictures on the walls portraying scenes from the Old Testament, and as for the timber-yard, it was the grandest place for such excitements as hide-and-seek. The sisters were a happy family devoted to each other and to their warmhearted mother who did not hesitate to impress on all of them a horror of sin. Her word was law. But although she was somewhat strict, having like the rest of the family a particularly soft spot for the youngest, born on October 12th 1891, she was inclined to spoil her. Consequently as a small child Edith enjoyed being the centre of attraction and being very self-willed would storm or weep if she could not get her own way. There was this business of school for instance. Sometimes her big brother, Paul, would recite poetry to his intelligent little four-year-old sister. When her sisters amused themselves with poetry competitions, at her attempts to butt in they would say: “But you can’t, Edith. You can’t read.”

Therefore she demanded to be sent to school. Her mother arranged for her to go to a kindergarten. But when the day for her first attendance arrived, she hung back protesting: “Don’t want a kindergarten. Want a proper school. It’s raining. I can’t go—it will spoil my shoes.”

PROMISING STUDENT

Paul had picked her up and deposited her at the kindergarten but it was not a success. Not only was she more advanced than the other children but she was miserable. So her mother took her away. On her sixth birthday she set off to school filled with a childish ambition to do well at lessons. She succeeded. As time passed, her wilfulness and self-centredness replaced by a happy comradeship with her school-fellows, this attractive, clever girl with her fresh complexion and dark hair and eyes entered into all the school activities. Nevertheless, her real interest lay in her studies. For a few months sh e left school to visit a married sister but on her return she set herself to work for the entrance examination to the Breslau University, which she eventually passed. At the school-leaving ceremony, the Headmaster liked to sum up each student going on to the university with an apt phrase. Of Edith Stein, recognizing her intellectual brilliance, he said: “Strike the stone (stein)and wisdom gushes out!”

A RATIONALIST

Proud as she was of her youngest daughter, Frau Stein had given but a reluctant consent to a university career. She was alarmed. And not without reason. For although to please her Edith would occasionally accompany her to the Jewish synagogue on the Sabbath, as a student of rationalist philosophy Edith had lost her belief not only in Judaism but in God. Later she summed up the effects of her studies in these words: “To study philosophy is to walk perpetually on the edge of the abyss.”

T o this young girl, knowledge seemed the beall of existence. When at the end of four terms” study of psychology and philosophy it was arranged for her to have a term at the famous Gottingen University to work under the renowned philosopher, Husserl, she was utterly thrilled. Her friends given to versemaking declared laughingly: “Most girls dream of kisses (busserl),Edith dreams of Husserl!”

GOTTINGEN STUDIES

Once settled at Gottingen she felt her cup of happiness was full. Not only was there the joy of studying under the great man but at friendly informal discussions in his room to which she was invited she met many eminent scholars. She had other enjoyments. Often she and two or three friends would spend a day up in the hills, taking their food with them. And oh, how good the black bread, cold meat, sausage, fruit and chocolate would taste eaten in the open under the blue sky or, if the day were hot, in the cool of the forest!

Frau Stein had not liked her daughter leaving her home for Gottingen. “It’s only for a term,” Edith had said to console her. Yet even as she spoke she had had a feeling that this new venture might lead to great things. And so it proved. Most of the scholars at Gottingen called themselves rationalists. “We are guided by reason. Of course we don’t believe in religion, supernatural revelation and all that kind of thing, Edith had explained to her sister, Rosa.

SEARCH FOR TRUTH

What then was her surprise to find living at Göttingen a brilliant scholar, Max Scheler- who had recently returned to the Church- delivering lectures on Catholic philosophy. Her prejudices against religion began to give way. At the same time, having won her mother’s reluctant consent, she arranged to stay on at Göttingen University for another two years to study for her doctorate of Philosophy. Here, despite the prevailing rationalist atmosphere, with Max Scheler giving lectures on religion and another Jewish philosopher, Adolf Reinach—having become a Christian—teaching philosophy as leading to Christianity, Edith began to absorb these new ideas in her search for truth. It was said of her that she had only one love, knowledge. At the university she was an outstanding member of the Philosophical Society and, during vacation, at Breslau, she enjoyed the admiration of many intellectual men and women who regarded her as an authority on many subjects. Nevertheless she was no blue-stocking, proud and aloof. She proved a kindly, loyal and sympathetic friend and during the First World War- having laid aside her studies for a time- a devoted and unselfish hospital nurse. And then came the next step in the spiritual adventure of this young Jewess whom Jesus Christ had destined for His own. When Adolf Reinach’s death occurred, it was with dread of a heart-rending scene that Edith visited the widow. To her surprise she found Frau Reinach, who was a Protestant, bearing her grievous loss with serenity as a taking up of her Christian cross.

DISCOVERY OF CHRIST

“For the first time I saw before me the Church born of Christ’s redemptive suffering victorious over the sting of death. My unbelief was shattered. Judaism paled before the light of Christ- Christ in the mystery of the Cross.” Such was Edith’s comment later.

She even considered becoming a Protestant herself, but having accepted the post of assistant to Husserl, she left for Freiburg. Here immersed in study she gained her doctorate. Despite her intellectual brilliance Dr. Edith Stein remained a simple soul, warm-hearted and cheerful, loved as well as admired by many, not forgetting her beloved mother, that mother who still ruled her sons and daughters, even those who, having married, now had children of their own. Nothing was done without consulting her. Nothing? Edith was to take the most important step in her life without telling her, a step which she knew would come as a bitter blow to one so fervent in her Jewish faith.

“THIS IS THE TRUTH”

It had come about in the following manner. She was on a visit to a married couple who ran a fruit farm. During the day she helped with the fruit picking, the evening being devoted to religious and philosophical discussion. As she had written an essay which expressed her belief in God, they assured her that she was converted to Christianity. But she remained unconvinced and she was right. She lacked the gift of faith. One evening on her way up to bed she selected a book at random from the bookshelf, the autobiography of St. Teresa of Avila Once in bed, Edith began reading that wonderful description of the life of that saintly nun who reformed the Carmelite Order in the sixteenth century. The night was passing but she read on to the end. Then she said aloud: “This is the Truth.”

THE GIFT OF FAITH

The gift of faith, the greatest of God’s gifts, had been bestowed upon her. Enraptured, she knew the joy of loving her Lord and Creator.

The same morning she bought a catechism and a missal Then, having studied them, for the first time she entered Catholic church to hear Mass. At the end the priest must hay been somewhat startled to find a strange woman asking to b baptized.

“How long have you been having instruction?” he asked.

“Test my knowledge, Father,” she replied.

He did. Nevertheless, although hewas astonished at he knowledge of Catholic doctrine, it was not until New Year” Day that, having kept a nightly vigil in the church, Edith Stein, the Jewess, receiving the name of Teresa, became child of Holy Mother Church. Knowing what a shock it would be to her mother, so rooted in her belief with their worship of the One True God of the Old Testament the Jews were His chosen race, Edith had waited until her return home before breaking the news. Kneeling before the ageing woman an taking her hand in hers, she said: “Mother, I have something to tell you. I am aCatholic.”

A SHOCK TO HER FAMILY

Edith had never before seen her strong-minded, capable mother in tears. At the sight she too wept, realizing that despite their mutual love there now lay a great gulf between them. The rest of the family were likewise shocked at the news. One of them said afterwards:

“We believed that Catholicism consisted in grovelling on one knees and kissing the priest’s toes. It was beyond us how Edith with her superior outlook could so demean herself by joining such a superstitious sect”.

To please her mother, Edith one day accompanied her to the synagogue. Frau Stein was greatly surprised to see her reading the Jewish psalms from her Catholic breviary. When the Rabbi read outthe text, “Hear, 0 Israel, thy God is one,” she whispered to her daughter: “There, you hear what he says-Thy God is One”.

A FURTHER STEP

It was a painful situation for them both but Edith, far from yielding to her mother’s appeals to give up this new religion, longed like St. Teresa of Avila to surrender everything to God by entering a religious Order. Her spiritual adviser, however, felt that the time was not yet ripe. But as she no longer cared for the life of the Freiburg University he found a position for her as teacher in the Dominican convent school at Speyer. All ambition gone save that of serving God, this renowned scholar now strove to be as little noticed as possible. The senior girls who appreciated the brilliance of her intellect were amazed at the humility of this kind, gentle teacher, always so ready to help or advise them. One young teacher said of her: “When you were with her, you felt yourself to be in an atmosphere which was noble, pure and sublime.”

Drawn from the first towards the religious life Edith shared in the devotions of the Dominican nuns, spending much time in prayer, especially before a statue of Our Lady of Sorrows as if aware that she, too, was to be called to great suffering. However, at the end of four years, knowing that she was now fully acquainted with the Catholic philosophy of St. Thomas Aquinas, her spiritual adviser urged her to use her knowledge to the glory of God as a Catholic scholar in the world.

“St. Thomas is no longer satisfied with my spare time. He claims me entirely!” she told a friend. So once more the learned Dr. Stein resumed her work as a lecturer and philosopher but this time with the highest motive.

A TOOL OF GOD

“One should see oneself as a mere tool; the powers with which we work as something we do not use but which God uses in us,” she said.

Working at a translation of St. Thomas Aquinas she lived for a while at home, but with her mother and likewise a cousin, Erica, both proud of the Judaic faith, it was no longer for Edith the happy haven it had been. At Speyer she had known the joy of winning Jewish friends and students to Catholicism but the only one in the family who felt drawn towards Christianity was her sister Rosa, and even she felt that it would be too great a blow to her mother if she, like Edith, became a Catholic.

It is possible that many of Dr. Stein’s acquaintances found her changed. Often, now, in spirit of humility she would conceal her intellectual gifts and in the spirit of holy poverty she dressed very simply. Sometimes people would criticize her for stressing the supernatural in her lectures.

“If I did not do so I should never lecture again,” she replied “What I try to put across is simply this, how to live as a hand maidof the Lord.”

Having been offered various tutorial posts she finally settled down at a Catholic College in Muenster. Here her life consisted entirely of work—much of it important public work such as speaking at conferences and so forth- and prayer. As at Speyer, she did everything possible to help and befriend the students.

PERSECUTION

Meanwhile all was not well with Germany. Catholics and Jews had watched with the greatest alarm the rise to power of Adolf Hitler and his National Socialism, a policy which laid down that everything was to be sacrificed to the State. As Hitler regarded the Catholic Church with its teachings or charity, justice and the rights of the individual as his enemy he immediately started a persecution against Catholics and an even more terrible one against the Jews. For, with the idea that Germany would regain her former greatness as a pure blooded race of supermen, he decided that the German Jews as an alien race must be driven from the country or exterminated. Thousands were seized and thrust into concentration camps, primitive dwellings surrounded by barbed wire where vast numbers could be herded together in captivity, brutally treated or killed.

It was Holy Week, 1933. Greatly concerned at the fate of her people, Edith knelt in the Carmelite chapel at Cologne at the foot of the crucifix.

“I told Our Lord that I knew that it was His Cross that was being laid on the Jewish race. Most of them did not understand but those who did should accept it willingly in the name of all. . . . I told Him that that was what I wished to do . . . felt convinced that I had been heard though I did not know what the bearing of that Cross might entail.”

THE FIRST SACRIFICE

Almost at once the first sacrifice was asked. Those of Jewish race were being turned out of schools, colleges and professions. Edith was informed that she could no longer lecture at the University. She took it calmly. For twelve years she had longed to enter a religious Order. If the fact that she was a Jewess was not an obstacle, she felt that now was the time to fulfill her desire; to follow in the footsteps of St. Teresa of Avila by entering the Carmelite Order where the worship of God is combined with a penitential life in union with the crucified Redeemer.

“Your work as a scholar is of value to the world. You would not be able to continue it in Carmel,” the sub-prioress of the convent told her.

“It is not human activity that can help most in these times of trouble but the Passion of Christ. I long to take my part,” she replied fervently.

ON TRIAL

The prioress agreedthat she could come on a month’s trial, but first she paid a farewell visit to her home. Her mother being now eighty-four she did not dare break the news to her too suddenly, though Rosa, who was in the secret, was delighted. However, at last the day came when her mother, realizing Edith’s difficulties as a Jewish lecturer, asked:

“But what exactly will you be doing during your stay with these sisters at Cologne?”

When she realized that her daughter was hoping to enter the convent as an enclosed nun and that this was her farewell to her home and to the world, it came as a shattering blow. Every argument was put forward to change her decision. It was indeed an agonizing time.

“I used to wonder during those weeks which of us would break, my mother or I,” Edith tells us. Erica, her cousin, also joined the fray. “How can you cut yourself off from your own race when they are so oppressed,” she would cry.

Edith held firm. For the last time she accompanied her mother to the synagogue.

“You admit it is possible for a Jew to be holy?” pleaded her mother.

“Why yes, if he can see no further,” came the quiet reply.

“I don’t say “anything against Jesus Christ. But why did He claim to be God?”

Edith was silent. Useless to try to explain yet again to her brokenhearted old mother that God’s law for the Jews and the sacrifices of the Old Testament had but led up to the incarnation of the God-made-man, Jesus Christ, of the New Testament, and to the Church He had founded, with Himself as the Victim of the divine sacrifice of the Mass.

CONVENT AT COLOGNE

Finally, the last goodbyes said, she found herself one day speeding to her destination, the convent at Cologne. “What I had hardly dared to hope for was now to be fulfilled, There could be no overwhelming joy for me just then. All that I had recently experienced had been too painful for that. But I was filled with a deep peace, knowing that I had surrendered myself to the divine will. The enclosure door of the convent opened. I stepped across the threshold into the House of the Lord,” she tells us.

A NONENTITY

And so began Edith Stein’s life as a Carmelite nun, a self-sacrificial life of poverty, penance and prayer; a secret battle against self-love, in a word the life of the Cross. One of the necessary virtues to acquire was humility. Edith had plenty of opportunities for this. From being the centre of attraction as a renowned scholar she was now a nonentity. Most of the nuns had never even heard of her.

“Is she good at needlework?” one asked anxiously.

No, the newcomer proved to be a poor needlewoman, clumsy and unskilled, too, at the household duties required of her.

Then, too, she was twenty years older than the other postulant and the two novices which did not make things easier for her. Nevertheless she radiated joy. In recreation she had a laugh and a joke for everyone, and how she loved the ceremonies in the chapel, the feasts of the Church! Since her conversion she had always realized the power of prayer, saying:”It is the Church herself who prays in every prayer. Unlimitless loving surrender to God and God’s response, full and lasting union, this is the highestdegree of prayer. The souls who have reached it are truly the heart of the Church.”

So now in Carmel, writing to one of her nun friends, she says: “Please help me to be worthy of living at the heart of the Church’s holiness and to offer myself for those whose lot lies in the world.”

RECEPTION

A year later, in April 1934, the chapel was adorned with flowers for her clothing ceremony, many of her friends, including eminent scholars, being present. They watched her, dressed as a bride in white silk with bridal veil and myrtle wreath, a lighted candle in her hand, approach the open convent door where the nuns awaited her. After she had knelt to kiss the crucifix they saw her enter. They saw the door close behind her. The bride of Christ had said farewell to the joys of this world for ever. Then, clad in her brown habit, the penitential hair cloth and the Carmelite veil, they saw her outstretched before the altar in the form of a cross, signifying the mystical death she must die.

A DEEPER LIFE OF PRAYER

And so began for the novice a deeper life of prayer and penance, a hard life. To her sorrow although she was allowed to write a weekly letter home to which Rosa replied, no word had come from her beloved mother. But when she took her first vows the following year, her name in religion being now Sister Benedicta of the Cross, to her joy she received a few lines of good wishes from her mother.

The persecution of the Jews throughout the country had in no wise abated. A visitor who had been struck by her radiant appearance said to her: “At least you are safe here hidden away in Carmel.”

“No, I don’t think so. I feel sure they will search me out,” she replied calmly.

In Whitsun, 1936, the death of her mother after a long illness, at the age of eighty-seven, occurred at a time when the nuns were renewing their vows.

“As I stood in the chapel I knew my mother was beside me. I felt her presence quite clearly,” Sister Benedicta said after—wards.

Later, knowing that although not a Christian her mother with her deep love of God had lived according to her light, she wrote to a friend saying: “I am convinced that my mother is now my faithful helper aiding me on my journey.”

HER SISTER IS RECEIVED

Rosa, who had looked after her mother for so long, was now able to prepare for her reception into the Church. Towards the end of the year, having injured her foot, Sister Benedicta was taken to hospital for X-ray. On Christmas Eve, her foot in plaster of Paris, by special permission she was granted the joy of attendingher sister’s baptism in a nearby church.

In the spring of 1938, Sister Benedicta took her final vows, exchanging her white veil for a black one as a symbol of her total surrender to God. Thus veiled and wearing her ring of espousal she stood before the bishop. “Come, bride of Christ. Receive the crown which your Lord has prepared for you from all eternity,” he said, placing a wreath of white roses on her head.

A QUESTION OF VOTING

Although so far the convent had remained unmolested, matters at last reached a climax. During an election the people hadbeen bidden to vote “yes” for Hitler, non-Aryans, that is those of Jewish origin, not being entitled to vote. To avoid questioning Sister Benedicta recorded her vote which was “no”. At the next election soon after, the polling officers called at the convent to collect votes. Having counted them they asked:”Why is Dr. Edith Stein’s vote not here?”

“She is a non-Aryan,” came the reluctant reply.

PROMPT ACTION

The officers, making no comment, departed but the prioress acted promptly, for Jews in their thousands were being sent concentration camps. A rumour was rife that they were to be exterminated-gassed.

“Sister Benedicta needs a change of air,” wrote the prioress to the Superior of the Carmelite convent at Echt in Holland. And so it had come about that, having been driven there by a lady doctor, Sister Benedicta settled down in her new home at Echt. But in the autumn of 1939, a few months after her arrival, with the outbreak of the Second World War, Hitler’s victorious army swept through Poland, Belgium, France and Holland, so Sister Benedicta realized there was no safe refuge for her at Echt and the nuns who had given her shelter might suffer.

“Holy Poverty implies being ready to leave our home in this dear convent,” she wrote. “ . . . If we are driven into the streets then Our Lord will send His angels to encircle us, and their invisible wings will enfold us in a peace more secure than that )f the highest and most solid of convent walls.”

SEIZED BY GESTAPO

Her sister, Rosa, having lost all her possessions had been given a room outside the enclosure, so preparations were now started by the prioress to transfer both of them to the Carmelite convent in Switzerland. These preparations resulted in a summons to appear before the Gestapo. Then the fatal fact was disclosed. They were Jewish. The German authorities in occupation had started mass deportation of Jewish men, women and children from Holland, many being sent to the Polish concentration camps where they were driven to work in the mines or put to death in the gas chambers. The inhuman treatment brought forth so great an outcry from the Christian denominations that finally an assurance was given that Jewish Christians would not be deported. The Dutch Catholic bishops, however, continued to protest on behalf of the rest of the Jews, a pastoral to this effect being read in all Catholic churches. As a reprisal the Gestapo seized many Catholics and Jews and all Jewish religious. So it was that, on August 2nd, 1942, they descended on the Carmelite convent at Echt and carried off Sister Benedicta and her sister.

NEWS FROM HOLLAND

One can imagine the anguish of the nuns at the convent as they waited for news. Three days later a telegram arrived from Westerbork, an assembly camp near Hooghlen in North Holland. It ran: “Send warm clothing, blankets and medical supplies immediately by messenger . . .

AN ANGEL AMONG THE PEOPLE

The nuns immediately collected everything possible and the two men had offered to take the cases by car arrived that same evening at the camp which consisted of thousands of huts in which men, women and children were herded together. The Dutch guards, who hated their jobs, allowed them to speak to Sister Benedicta who was still in her brown habit. She spoke of the terrible journey they had made there, of a guard at one stopping place belabouring her with a truncheon. Nevertheless she appeared calm and even radiant, happy, so she told them, to be of use to so many sufferers. A Jewish business man from Cologne, who was in charge of the prisoners, said afterwards: “She was like an angel going among the people, helping and comforting them.”

That same day two other gentlemen arrived with packages for the prisoners. They, too, spoke to Sister Benedicta. She told them that among the vast number of Jews there were several religious including a wonderful Jewish family of brothers and sisters, five of them, all Trappist monks or nuns. She said of herself: “Whatever happens I am prepared for it. Our dear Child Jesus is with us even here.”

FURTHER DEPORTATION

The next. morning one of these visitors made enquiries as to the prisoners at the railway station. “All the Catholics, both lay and religious, were deported during the night to the East,” he was told. A letter from one of the captives, a lady doctor who had been attached to the Trappist convent and who was a friend of

Sister Benedicta, contained these words: “We are expecting to be sent to Poland. . . . Rejoice with me. I am going forward with the same joy and confidence as the sisters who are with me.”

A nun at Freiburg received the last message from Sister Benedicta. It ran: “Greetings from the journey to Poland” and was signed with her name.

The rest was silence.

TO THE GAS CHAMBER

Some time afterwards a Jewish professor who escaped from one of the camps disclosed that there had been nightly deportations to the gas chambers at Auschwitz. One of the first to go had been Sister Benedicta who, assured of eternal life, went calmly to her fate. Her sister, Rosa, apparently suffered with her.

Ever since the conversion Edith Stein had had a deep love of the Cross, a willingness to follow wherever it might lead. The Mother Prioress had had a letter from her during those few days at Westbork which included these words: “One can only have a Scientia Crucis [a real understanding of the Cross] if one is truly partaking of that Cross. I was convinced of this from the very first and have said with all my heart:’Ave crux, spes unica! [Hail Cross, our sole hope!]”

FINAL SACRIFICE

Just before the outbreak of war, on Passion Sunday, 1939, she had sent a written petition to the prioress: “I beg your permission to offer myself to the Heart of Jesus as a sacrificial expiation for the sake of true peace; that the

Antichrist’s sway may be broken.

Thus that noble woman and brilliant scholar, Edith Stein, who had sacrificed everything to become first a Christian and then a Carmelite nun, as a Catholic Jewess- a political victim- had made of her final sacrifice a superb offering which, united to the Sacrifice of her Crucified Lord, was assuredly not made in vain.

Nihil Obstat:

BERNARD O”CONNOR, Diocesan Censor,

Imprimatur:

@ ARTHUR F. FOX,

Auxiliary Bishop.

Melbourne, 22/6/1967.

********

Saint Edmund Campion

BY C. C. MARTINDALE S.J

INDEX

WE have, here, simply wished to make a sketch of Campion, without so much as writing his ‘life,’ which certainly could not well be compressed into such narrow limits. Campion’s family was middle-class and commercial-his father, a ‘very honest bookseller.’ Enormously rich people then had become richer by being purchasers of the monastic lands, but the great economic upheaval could hardly have enriched London tradesmen, though it doubtless altered their outlook. Simpler folk were not then possessed by the desire to imitate, nor to use their sturdy ambitions merely to get rich quick. It was not from snobbishness that Edmund’s father wanted to educate him well, but because a guild or company (probably the grocers’) saw the boy’s quick wits, sent him to a grammar school that the older man could not afford and then to Christ’s College in Newgate Street which King Edward’s advisers had made him found out of the relics of confiscated moneys. To my mind, it was here that Edmund Campion ran his first real perils. If there was not a social snobbery then as there is now, there was a far greater educational or literary snobbery. The idols of the New Learning were everywhere being worshipped. But Campion’s cleverness must certainly have been notable, since, when Mary Tudor made her state entry into London and passed by St Paul’s School, they left that school aside and chose Campion, winner of all prizes, to be boy~declaimer at her welcome. She was ‘pleased’ and this began a whole series of appearances before queens. Meanwhile, Sir Thomas White, founder of St John’s College, Oxford, had also liked him; and by grace of the Grocers’ Company he was sent on there and became a Fellow at eighteen!

His oratorical gifts made him noticeable: in 1560, though a layman, he preached the panegyric over Amy Robsart, whom people were saying her husband, Lord Robert Dudley, had murdered to be more at his ease with Elizabeth; afterwards he was to preach the funeral oration for Sir Thomas White also. Did he, in 1564, take the Oath of Supremacy? Seemingly he did, though helping others to escape it. Oxford had gone to his head. He was its idol. Students mobbed him, imitated his walk, his accent, his dress. He was temporizing, playing tricks with conscience, committing himself in neither direction. When in 1566 the queen herself came to Oxford, he greeted her in the name of the university. Afterwards, he ‘disputed’ in her presence, but on safer topics than the semi-political ones entrusted to others-whether rule by prince alone were not better than rule by law alone; whether princes did not rule better by succession than by election. Campion merely had to argue that the moon rules the tides, on which certainly he talked much nonsense and was in arrears upon Aquinas, but he made up for it by an adulation no less inevitable than disgusting both of the queen and of her lover, Dudley, chancellor of the university. They fell into ecstasies over Campion. He was made to discourse extempore before the Spanish ambassador, and again before the queen at Woodstock. Cecil and Dudley took him up and, when Dudley had become Earl of Leicester, Campion still was to pursue him with flatteries that we must condone because princes exacted them.

None the less, Campion was sick at heart. He revolted against the inscriptions put up at Christ Church, as though Elizabeth’s father, if not she herself, had created Wolsey’s college. A brilliant Latinist, Hellenist and Hebrew scholar, he now was studying the Fathers, and could see neither how not to be a Catholic, nor how to be one. He found that St Peter Martyr had said that it was not absolutely prohibited for a Catholic to assist at profane and execrable rites, and, in a moment, I think, of nervous exasperation, took the enormous step of being ordained deacon in the queen’s new church. At once his conscience started to torment him.

Yet he still temporized, but drew back. His ‘tone’ in preaching was all too Catholic. Invited by the suspicious grocers to preach at Paul’s Cross at Candlemas, he hesitated, and asked for a reprieve till Michaelmas. Then he met them and asked to be let off. They suggested somewhere less irnportant-Walbrook. He resisted. They delivered an ultimatum. He refused it, resigned his exhibition, and on the feast of St Peter in Chains, 1569, resigned also his proctorial office and left Oxford.

In the midst of this brilliancy, or glitter, of this suspicion and adulation, Campion had genuinely loved education, had worked hard and had hated unchastity. This, to my mind, is what really saved him. Off, now, he went to Ireland, where there was question of reviving the old Dublin university, dead because of the suppression of those monasteries without which there would have been no universities at all. Under Leicester’s unfailing patronage he seemed to have new scholastic glories ahead of him. He wrote a treatise on The Academic Man,anticipating thus Newman’s Idea of a University; and indeed how strange is the resemblance-in-contrast between these two men, not excluding the visit of each to Ireland and the respective causes of their going and leaving! Certainly, Campion’s ‘Academic Youth’ was to be equipped with qualities beyond any Crichton; still, his ideal young man was not onlyto be a scholar: ‘he must wash thoroughly and dress properly’; he must always stand to study; he must live not only among those corpses that books are. The intellectual vitality of Campion reveals itself.

But the Catholic hinterland of his mind also revealed itself. Almost at once they suspected him, though he had not been received back into the Church. One difference between him and Erasmus surely was that Erasmus was a humanist who could not help being a Catholic; Campion, irrevocably a Catholic with a convinced longing to be a humanist: and, again, Campion urged positive ideals and criticized others only in so far as they fell short of his standard; Erasmus really disliked men personally.

Campion, hidden away from pursuit, put together a History of Ireland. For this he had really tried to make due researches. Foiled in this, he wrote the least kindly book he ever did write, unredeemed, to my mind, by its glittering style; but acute, full of observation, of knowledge of human nature and of happy vivacity. But his presence was exposing his good hosts to too much danger; he resolved on flight. Campion always possessed a sort of sanctified impertinence. He enjoyed, I feel sure, dressing as the lackey of the Earl of Kildare’s steward, who was crossing to England, and standing under the very nose of officers who boarded the ship to search for him and who questioned every person save himself. He spent the time invoking in his mind St Patrick, a new patron to whom he was thenceforward ever true.

In England he not only missed the warmhearted hospitality of the Irish but found himself in a world of ‘fears, suspicions, arrestings, condemnations, torturings and executions.’ In the June of that year, 1571, the aged Dr Storey was kidnapped by a base trick in the Lowlands and executed in a manner even more revolting than was usual. Campion, in Westminster Hall, attended his trial. I cannot but think this was a turning-point. Shocked beyond measure, he made an end of temporizing and took boat for Douai. An English frigate stopped them in mid-Channel, arrested Campion, brought him back; but, succumbing to a tip, the captain winked and let him go. The seaman walked west; Campion, east. In Kent, he found means to get across to France. Cecil said that England had lost one of her diamonds.

He went to the English seminary at Douai, founded by Doctor, afterwards Cardinal, Allen, and found himself in an allbut-Oxford atmosphere once more. He throve, was ordained subdeacon, delved into St Thomas and wrote boldly ‘martyr- dom’ against a passage dealing with ‘baptism of blood.’ He also taught eloquence and wrote controversial letters; but I feel that, his conscience now being clear, there is already much more of his native sweetness and less artificiality in his style. He writes like a simple Englishman, not like a Ciceronian in disguise.

But, suddenly, he asked to go to Rome and become a Jesuit. His deepening piety may have made him desire the religious vows, and his adventurous spirit seek companionship with men who, they said, were the Church’s skirmishers and light cavalry. But he could have got all that in the destiny that any English priest had to foresee. Possibly he did not feel quite in sympathy with Allen. Much had happened in England since Allen had left. Campion felt sure that Elizabeth had come to stay; Allen thought that Philip of Spain was rightful king there. But the generous-hearted Allen gave him leave; off he went, on foot, meeting on the way an Oxford friend who had last seen him ‘in great pomp,’ thought he must have been robbed and offered him his purse. Campion answered in terms of selfsacrifice for Christ’s sake, and plodded on.

In Rome, catechized about the effe ct of the Pope’s Bull of Deposition, he said frankly that it had made things harder for Catholics and begged for a ‘mitigation’; Elizabeth could not be unexcomrnunicated, but might not Catholics acknowledge her as queen without themselves incurring excommunication? Thus, they could honestly say they were not traitors nor teachers of treachery. He was duly received into the Society as a novice. There was then no English Jesuit province; foreign provincials fought for him; Austria won and he was sent to Prague, where he could contemplate the spiritual and moral decline due to Hussism. But he was soon shifted to Brunn, in Moravia, where things were still worse. He was put to teach the poorer people, almost as a reparation, recalling that Hus derived more anarchic ideas from Wyclif. Brought back to Prague, every task in the house seemed placed on his not over-strong shoulders; he also taught rhetoric and, afterwards, Aristotelian philosophy. You might have feared he would relapse into artificialities, especially as the only model allowed was Cicero. But no, his directions are definite. First, think exactly what you want to say, and then, only, say it as well as you can. Thus, you will not be mimicking what Cicero said but speaking as Cicero would have spoken. Meanwhile, he wrote plays and dramatic dialogues with incredible fluency and had much talk with his old and dear friend, Sir Philip Sidney, Elizabeth’s envoy to the Emperor Rudolph IL Sidney professed himself convinced of the truth of the Faith but alleged that he could not draw back from the brilliant career that already, at twenty-three, was his. Campion prayed that some missionary, home in England, could help this ‘poor wavering soul.’ Ordained in 1578, he was begged for by Allen as a member of the English mission now to be developed and, with Parsons, was allotted to it. Everyone realized what it held in store. One of his colleagues painted a wreath of lilies and roses over his bed; another wrote,’Father Edmund Campion, Martyr,’ over his door. On March 25, 1580, he went to Rome and learnt that he would be starting for England somewhat after Easter. Rome seems to me to have been filled with men as ignorant as possible of the real state of things, or of feeling, in England, yet extremely wise about the technique, so to say, of missionary work there. Indeed, the situation was everywhere confused. Henry VIII had really thought he could remain a devout Catholic while calling himself head of the Church of England; Elizabeth, the perfect cynic, yet imperious, was finding she had to play off king against king, parties and nobles one against the other, and really might have urged that she had been forced into anti-Catholicism by Rome itself. English Catholics did not at all want to apostatize but, by now, I think, did regard Elizabeth as their queen and may have been almost proud of her. Campion left Rome with the ‘mitigation’ he had asked for and the advice to let laymen do all the spade-work of instruction-the priest was to arrive only to put the finishing touch to conversion. They must avoid sarcasm or the appearance of seeking alms or legacies; they must eschew politics and not even write to Rome about them. Yet, just at that moment, a papally-backed expedition sailed for Ireland to assist rebellion both by money and arms, so that there was not the least chance of the missionaries in England seeming anything but hostile intriguers, sent by Gregory XIII who could not possibly be thought neutral, let alone friendly. The medieval notion that the Holy See had rights over every island may have prompted the feeling that the Pope was able to take away Ireland from the English crown, just as Adrian IV had given it; it was in this spirit that Pius V. had excommunicated and deposed Elizabeth: none the less, and despite the affectionate farewell spoken to the missionaries by St Philip Neri, not to insist on the fuss and notoriety that surrounded the departure so that everyone in authority in England knew all about the expedition before it had got halfway, the enterprise was doomed from the outset.

They travelled by foot and on horseback, Campion, in the poorest clothes, gaily alleging that a man en route for martyrdom need not worry about the fashion. Morning and night he pushed on ahead for meditation and prayer. During the day his infectious high spirits encouraged the others, some of whom were old. At Milan they met St Charles Borromeo; and, having crossed by Mont Cenis, at last they reached Geneva. In Geneva was living Beza, successor to Calvin. With almost schoolboyish audacity, five of them visited him. They definitely ‘cheeked’ him, and when soon afterwards they challenged him and his fellows to a discussion-the vanquished to be burned at the stake-no wonder it was hinted that they had better leave Geneva quickly.

In May 1580 they arrived at Rheims. Allen welcomed them, and a great tragedy occurred. Bishop Goldwell, who, with the Bishop of Lincoln now in prison, was sole survivor of the deposed Catholic hierarchy, fell ill and had to return. He implored that bishops might be created for England. They were not. No one at Rome imagined that Protestantism would survive there; mendicant bishops destined to the rack and the gallows did not appeal to the official mind; none were sent. When, long afterwards, bishops were given back to us, a tradition had been irreparably snapped.

Next, on all sides, the little band was being told that their mission was a hopeless one. Campion, sensitive to every mood, began to wonder if he had done right in abandoning the manifestly successful work in Bohemia for so forlorn a hope. Every detail, even the appearance of the missionaries, was known to Walsingham by means of his superb system of espionage. The Irish expedition made it inevitable that they should be regarded as political intriguers. But no, Allen said that Campion’s Bohemian apostolate could be done by anyone equally qualified-or ‘at least by two or three such persons’; so let him persevere. They crossed from Flanders by ones or twos-Parsons dressed as a soldier: ‘such a peacock!-such a swaggerer!’ Campion wrote to Rome. He himself went as ‘Mr Edmunds,’ jewel-merchant, along with the little laybrother, Ralph Emerson. The ‘searcher’ of all such immigrants at Dover had been so perfectly taken in by Parsons that he actually helped him with a horse on his way to London. Reprimanded and bidden to be more careful, he arrested Campion and Emerson, thinking that Campion answered to the description of a brother of Allen’s. They were freed-who knows why-and finally reached London.

He was lodged in the very house of the chief pursuivant—was this another instance of his audacity, that he had found to pay so well, or had the man been bought over? Both explanations are offered. But, at any rate, the apostolate had now begun.

The stay in London was not a long one. The place was full of unconfessed Catholics, longing to meet the priests; but, almost at once, an apostate spy had caused the arrest of a Mr Orton and of Father Johnson and it was decided that both Parsons and Campion must go further away from this storm-centre. Before leaving, Campion, by request, wrote a rapid profession of his sincerity. Politics were ‘straitly forbidden’ to him; from them he ‘gladly estranged and sequestered his mind.’ His extreme simplicity of soul and candour are seen in his petition that he might be heard by three audiences-by the Lords in Council, on the relation of the Church to the English Government; by the heads of houses in both universities, on the proofs of the Catholic Faith; and by the courts spiritual and temporal, to justify the Faith by ‘the common wisdom of the laws standing.’ Begging, too, a special audience of the queen, he ended with often-quoted words:

‘Hearken unto those which spend the best blood in their bodies for your salvation. Many innocent hand s are lifted up unto Heaven for you, daily and hourly, by those English students whose posterity shall not die, which, beyond the seas, gathering virtue and sufficient knowledge for the purpose, are determined never to give you over, but either to win you to Heaven or to die upon your pikes. And touching our Society, be it known to you that we have made a league: cheerfully to carry the cross that you shall lay upon us, and never to despair of your recovery while we have a man left to enjoy your Tyburn, or to be racked with your torments, or to be consumed with your prisons. The expense is reckoned; the enterprise is begun; it is of God; it cannot be withstood. So the Faith was planted; so itmust be restored.’

He concludes by saying that if he be refused, and rewarded with rigour, he can add no more, but commends their cause, and his own, to God, prays that they may find themselves at accord at least on the Day of Payment, and at last ‘be friends in Heaven, where all injuries shall be forgiven.’

This document at once became known, though it was meant to be kept private, save in the case of his arrest, and was nicknamed ‘Campion’s Brag and Challenge.’

He moved from house to house in the more southerly Midlands, finding everywhere hosts of Catholics, desperately grateful to receive at last their sacraments, instruction and encouragement. This occupied the latter half of 1580 and most of the next year. He went, of course, further north too; into Derbyshire and Nottingham, and finally to Lancashire. All were fascinated by his clear discourse and extreme personal charm, yet acknowledged that a certain ‘hidden infused power’ gave him his efficacy. The saint was beginning to grow within him; and when sanctity had been achieved martyrdom was assured. He could not doubt of that. Five of the little band that had set out from Rheims were already in prison cells, broken by the rack. Yet, in all this, his irrepressible vivacity kept breaking out. I can but recall the day when, speaking to a village girl by a duck-pond covered with green scum, he saw the pursuivants turn the corner. He pretended to insult her; she pushed him into the pond; he emerged unrecognizable; the officers passed by laughing.

The ‘event’ of this period was the writing, printing and publishing of his Ten Reasons. They were ten considerations put forward ‘on the side of the Faith.’ At first he wanted to call it’Heresy Hopeless’-De Haersi Desperata; but no one could help smiling. Heresy, just then, and as it turned out justifiably, was so verysure of itself! At Campion’s suggestion, Parsons set up a private printing press in the attics of Dame Cicely Stonor, near Henley. Some 400 copies were rushed through (not even being stitched); and, on June 27, the church of St Mary the Virgin, then used for the learned effervescences of commemoration, was snowed under with the pamphlet which undergraduates eagerly read while the solemn function was proceeding. The dons were furious. They, a second-rate crew imposed by Elizabeth, were trying to dragoon the intelligence of young men more alert than they into thinking with the State. Opposition was mobilized. It was almost wholly abuse, not argument.

Despite the all-but total confiscation of the original edition (it is said that only two copies exist), nearly thirty Latin editions are said to have been demanded, and many translations into European languages were made. In this booklet there was some true ‘Campion,’ especially when he appeals to the queen herself: when he assures her that ‘one heaven cannot contain Calvin and these thine ancestors’-he had alluded to St Edward, St Louis, St Henry of Saxony, St Stephen of Hungary and other sainted kings; and cries that the day will come that shall make it clear ‘which of the two did love thee best: the company of Jesus or the brood of Luther.’ The book roused the authorities to fury, and Campion was warned to run back into Lancashire. But he received a letter from a Mr Yate, in prison for the Catholic Faith, begging him to visit his house, Lyford Grange, in Berkshire, where his wife, his mother and some Brigittine nuns were living. Parsons gave leave reluctantly. Campion was too ‘easygoing.’ ‘If they once get you there,’ he said, ‘you will never break away.’

Campion went; he spent a night there and was actually leaving when news came that a large number of Catholics had arrived, all longing to see him.

Among the crowd of sixty who heard Campion preach that Sunday was George Eliot, an apostate and a spy. Mrs. Yate’s cook had known him in old days, let him in at once, and actually told him that Campion (the warrant for whose arrest he had upon him) was in the house. Eliot sent to Abingdon for one hundred men to effect that arrest, went upstairs, heard Campion’s Mass devoutly and then left. After dinner a look-out man saw the armed force approaching and Campion hurried into a hiding-place, though he had begged them let him try to escape alone, without involving them in his danger. The magistrate, who loathed Eliot, arrived, and, at his bidding, was forced to make his men ransack the house and then return to tear down the very panelling. Mrs Yate raised an outcry; the magistrate apologized and, seeing she was an invalid, said she might sleep where she pleased. She had a bed made up close to the hiding-place-thus, she hoped to protect it. Late at night, having smashed all they could, and by now probably half drunk, the men went downstairs and slept. Mrs Yate thereupon collected her guests, caused Campion to get out of his hiding-place, and demanded just one more sermon. Campion spoke. As they tip-toed away, someone tripped; others fell over him; there was a clatter. The men awoke and, with lanterns and axes, poured up the stairs. They could find nothing, and were for making Eliot pay for their interrupted sleep. Eliot felt sure that something had been implied by that midnight noise, and abruptly noticed the bit of panelling as yet unbroken. He demanded that it too should be pierced. A servant, who knew that the hiding-place was just behind it, protested that enough damage had been done, and then, catching Eliot’s eye, could not prevent himself from turning white. That settled it. Eliot, seizing a hammer, struck it into the woodwork and Campion was revealed. Two priests, seven gentlemen and two yeomen were taken with him.

After four days’ imprisonment, orders came from London that they were to be removed thither, strongly guarded. The Berkshire sheriff did what he could to show respect to his prisoners, but could not prevent the indecent exultation of Eliot, at whom the peopleshouted ‘Judas’ all the way. At Abingdon, men came across from Oxford to salute what they knew would be the last they saw of their scholastic glory and the man whom still they loved. Eliot half apologized to Campion: ‘Mr Campion, I know well you are wroth with me for this work.’ ‘Nay; I forgive thee, and in token thereof, I drink to thee! And if thou repent and come to Confession, I will absolve thee . . . but large penance must thou have!’ At Henley, they passed close to Parsons, who was forbidden, most wisely, to show himself; but Campion recognized his servant and greeted him as best he could; and a young priest who tried to speak to him was at once arrested as a ‘comforter of Jesuits.’ At Colebrook, the sheriff received orders from London to treat with ignominy the men he had gladly hitherto respected; their elbows were tied behind, their wrists in front, their feet beneath their horses. On Campion’s hat (Parsons’s hat really, for they had exchanged hats when they last parted) was fastened a placard: ‘Campion, the Seditious Jesuit.’ So was he exhibited through London. He was taken to the Tower and put at once into the ‘Little Ease,’ where he could neither stand nor lie down. There he was kept for four days, till his spirit should have been broken.

And then he was taken out by the Traitor’s Gate. Whither? If the almost too dramatic tale can be authenticated-to the town house of the Earl of Leicester, who, with Lord Bedford and two secretaries of State, stood at the side of Elizabeth on a great chair. I cannot but think that the earl and the queen had not even now quite recovered from their long-ago fascination; perhaps they felt that, if Campion could be won, the Catholic game was up. They catechized him; they assured him there was nothing wrong with him save his papistry. ‘My greatest glory!’ he answered. Elizabeth offered him liberty and honours, would he but recant; still smiling on him, she sent him back to the Tower; for three days promises and cajoleries were applied- even up to the offer of the Canterbury archbishopric if no post at court could satisfy him. Word was sent round London that he was about to yield-soon he would be preaching at Paul’s Cross, burn the Ten Reasons with his own hand and be crowned with the Protestant mitre. On the third day of Campion’s obstinacy these cynics, to whom caress and cruelty came with equal, ease, sent Campion to the rack, and the hideous engine tugged his limbs apart. During the torture he was plied with questions; he was asked for his views of certain old political utterances of his friends; his own views as to the legitimacy of Elizabeth’s position; whom he had met in England; who had welcomed him; whose confessions he had heard; and much more. Lord Burghley wrote to Lord Shrewsbury a letter, still existing, that proves he said nothing of moment. Still, he said something. . . . .Exactly what? The world was informed that he had yielded to pain, acknowledged every detail; and a series of arrests, trials and condemnations went forward on the strength of this. Campion was branded among all, Catholics included, as renegade and traitor. Exactly what Campion said may never be ascertained. I think, when names were mentioned to him as already known, he may have acknowledged them as Catholic, knowing they were known, and having-even so-exacted an oath that no additional harm would befall them owing to this corroboration. The first and only real informants had been, it seems probable, three panic-stricken servants. If indeed, then, Campion, delirious with pain, did say anything, he made up for it amply afterwards and immediately rose above it.

For Campion was an object of interest. He had often asked for a public discussion. This was when they chose to grant it, out of curiosity, and, indeed, forced it on him. Without warning or preparation he was suddenly taken to the Norman chapel, filled with personages-Deans of St Paul’s and Windsor, Regius Professors, Puritan preachers and what not. They sat with books, paper and ink before them; they could raise any objection they chose; he had nothing for reference and had to answer without being allowed to offer his own objections, let alone to put forward any harmonious statement of the Catholic Faith. Sitting on his little stool, his body and nerves still desperately in anguish, he made the wicked absurdity of his position clear enough. Their ‘argument’ was chiefly vituperation and jeering. He never lost his temper. They actually gave him a Greek Testament of such small print that in that gloomy place he could not read it, and then had the triple nerve to say he knew no Greek. At least the laity were both shocked and impressed. Philip, Earl of Arundel, found here the origin of what became a life and death of noble fidelity. In that same Tower he was to die. Again racked, Campion was made similarly to answer questions before other assessors; his ease, charm, and learning brought it about that the Bishop of London decided that the system did more harm than good and broke the discussions off. For the third time Campion was racked, so violently that he thought they meant to kill him. A cousin of the queen cried that it were easier to tear the heart from his breast than one word, against his conscience, from his lips. This time the pain had taken him beyond sensation itself. Next day, his gaoler, who hadbeen won by Campion’s gentleness, asked ‘How do you feel?’ ‘Not ill,’ he answered, ‘because not at all.’

Other tactics were tried. Campion was accused of having been involved in the Roman-Spanish-Irish expedition and rising of a year back. But they could find no evidence-naturally; there was none. He had not been involved in it. Then they invented, all of a piece, a ‘Rheims-Rome’ Plot, and spent time briefing false witnesses as to what they should say. Then the Duc d’Alençon, whom Elizabeth had said that she would marry at last, arrived. Much younger than she, he was also brother-in-law to the Queen of Scots, a prisoner then in Sheffield. Did it look as if Elizabeth was parleying with Papists? Best make a counter-manifesto.

On November 14, nine men, of whom Carnpion was one, were arraigned in Westminster Hall on a charge of high treason and much more. They were told to plead guilty or not guilty. The men ‘who had travelled,’ said Campion, ‘only for souls’ raised their right hands, to answer ‘Not Guilty’-all save he. Racked and re-racked, he could not. From his swollen hands the very finger-nails had fallen. A comrade took off his fur cuff and, kissing the poor hand, lifted it that it too might attest the man’s guiltlessness. Even had not Ralph Sherwin cried aloud: ‘The plain ground of our standing here is religion, not treason,’ all knew in their hearts that the men were innocent. The Chief Justice, a Catholic at heart, remembered evermore the disgraceful day with anguish.

It is impossible to relate the trial in detail. Campion, whose ‘sweetness of disposition’ all men knew, had to say of the witnesses (amongst whom was Eliot) that ‘they have nothing left to swear by, neither religion nor honesty.’ It has to be confessed that Campion, when suitable, eluded, and, when apt, demolished the arguments of his accusers; so much so that the queen’s prosecutor, Anderson, lost his temper and exclaimed that, logic or none, ‘I will bring it to purpose anon.’ The men were foredoomed, even though Campion, questioned about his allegiance, was able to rehearse by heart what he had said to Elizabeth in Leicester’s house and how he had satisfied her with his words. . . . and he reminded the jury that, again and again, he and his comrades had been promised that if they would but become Anglicans all would be well. ‘So great are the treasons’ that he and they were, in honesty, believed to have wrought! Public opinion was wholly on their side; but ‘the poor twelve’ came back from their consultation; the accused were guilty on all points; yet again Caesar had conquered Christ. When asked what ‘Campion and the rest had to say why they should not die’-this was his answer:

‘It was not our death that ever we feared! But we knew that we were not lords of our own lives, and therefore for want of answer would not be guilty of our own deaths. The only thing we have now to say is, that if our religion do make us traitors, we are worthy to be condemned; but otherwise we are and have been as ‘true subjects as ever the Queen has had. In condemning us, you condemn all your own ancestors, Bishops and Kings: all that was once the glory of England, the Island of Saints, and the most devoted child of the See of Peter. For what have we taught (however you may qualify it with the odious name of treason), that they did not uniformly teach? To be condemned with these old lights, not of England only but the world, by their degenerate. descendants, is both gladness and glory to us! God lives. Posterity will live. Their judgment is not so liable to corruption as that of those who are now going tosentence us to death.’

They were condemned and sentenced. A cry of protest echoed in the very hall; but above it could be heard Campion’s voice: ‘We praise Thee, O God!’; and Sherwin’s: ‘This is the day that the Lord hath made, let us rejoice and be glad in it!’ Protest was hushed in astonishment, then the cries of exultation were taken up, and it seemed to be already the martyrs’ Easter Day.

Elizabeth did not at all believe the charges of treason and continued to send offers of Church preferment to Campion, would he but apostatize. Campion’s own sister was one of those chosen to make this offer. And, as though no act of melodrama, even, were to be omitted in that strange world, Eliot too arrived, trembling for his safety, sure that the Catholics would take vengeance on him and begging Campion to protect him. Campion, without one word of rebuke, sweet and attentive as ever, promised him a letter of recommendation to a German duke, who would accept his service. The gaoler, present at this conversation, was overwhelmed; he never forgot the talk and it became the beginning of his conversion to the Faith. Authority deemed it wise to hasten the date of execution, lest petitions addressed to the queen might occasion a reprieve. One pitiable incident occurred. The Duc d’Alençon, still present in England, had promised to intercede for Campion. As the days went by and he seemed to be doing nothing, his confessor actually went into the tenniscourt where d’Alençon was playing. He said that France’s royal blood would be forever disgraced were so foul a judicial murder not prevented. The duke stood still for a minute, stroked his face with his left hand, then said: ‘Play!’ and the game proceeded. Together with Sherwin, Campion endured another long argument and, as ever, had the best of it. But that would not help. ‘Soon I shall be above yon fellow!’ said Sherwin gallantly, looking at the sun as they passed through an open court on their way back to their all-but lightless, airless confinement. But they could not quite always keep their spirits high, as the days dragged. Just howto kill them had not been settled. ‘Delay of our death doth somewhat dull me,’ Sherwin wrote. But finally December 1 was chosen. Campion represented the Society of Jesus; Sherwin, Douai and the English College at Rome; Alexander Briant, Rheims.

The day dawned cold and raining. ‘God save you all, gentlemen!’ cried Campion as they left the Tower, ‘God bless you all and make you all good Catholics!’ Then he was thrown down and tied to his hurdle; the two younger men shared another. Each hurdle was tied to the tails of two horses, dragged at full speed down Cheapside, under the New Gate, and then along Holborn. After this came a mile of open country, then Tyburn. As they went under Newgate, Campion struggled to raise himself a little, in order to salute the statue of Our Lady over the arch. Now and again the pitiful procession halted its pace; then the martyrs spoke cheerily to the horrified crowds; and once a gentleman leaned down and gently wiped the mud from Campion’s face. So anxious was officialdom, that no less than 3,000 horsemen had been gathered round the gallows; and ‘an infinite number of souls.’ Just as the hurdles reached the place the sun shone out. Campion was the first to mount the cart and to put the noose round his own neck. He began to speak-it was his right. ‘We are made a spectacle unto the world, to angels and to men-we are fools for Christ’s sake.’ But they prevented him, and kept arguing about ‘treason.’ ‘If you esteem my religion treason, then am I guilty. As for any other treason, I never committed any-God is my judge.’ But a proclamation was read out in the queen’s name- a plan unparalleled before or after-stating that it was for treason, not religion, that these three men were being killed. Again and again he was questioned, and had to repeat the wearisome denials. Then he tried to pray. He used liturgical words, in Latin. Someone shouted to him to pray in English: ‘I will pray to God,’ said he, ‘in a language we both well understand!’ Still once more they harried him and told him to pray for Elizabeth. ‘Yes,’ he replied, ‘I do pray for Elizabeth, your queen and my queen, unto whom I wish a long quiet reign with all prosperity.’ At these words they drew the cart away. An official, touched with mercy, had ordered that he should remain hanging till he was quite dead. He was not, therefore, according to the directions of the sentence, conscious when his limbs were placed upon the quartering-block to be hacked asunder. But, as the executioner tossed them into a cauldron for boiling before they were exhibited on spikes, some of his blood fell on the sleeve of a young and brilliant writer, Henry Walpole. The lad had not been pious but had felt indignation at the treatment given to men like Campion, and had already befriended him; this blood turned him into the hero and martyr that he afterwards became, and was but a symbol of the wave of conversion which all over England swept men back into the Church. And all Europe rang with the news; so much so that the English government had to send out its apologias on all sides. But not a soul believed them. Campion died a martyr, and as such we venerate him.

Edmund Campion was canonised by Pope Paul VI on October 25, 1970.

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Saint Elizabeth of Hungary

REV. JEROME O’CALLAGHAN. O.F.M

INDEX

FOREWORD

The Three Orders founded by St. Francis have enjoyed from their very beginning singular blessings, and seven centuries have given ample evidence of Divine approbation. From humble beginnings each Order, serving its own purpose, has built mighty bulwarks from a contrasting membership. The coarse brown habit has been the coveted garb of lowly peasants and royal personages. And at the present day the Orders scattered throughout the world possess, as in the early days, a tremendous influence in society-bringing numerous souls to the feet of God in the exercise of a truly Christian life, both within and without the cloister.

Amongst the illustrious members of the Third, and numerically the largest, Order one zealous daughter, who has been rightly called “the greatest woman of the German Middle Ages,” stands out pre-eminently. This is the sweet and gentle St. Elizabeth of Hungary who, if we are to compare her with the mighty women of the Old Testament, was endowed with a courage akin to Judith’s, possessed the docility of Ruth, was as intrepid as Esther in the face of danger, and as resigned as the mother of Machabees in the hour of trial. However, the youthful Princess is not only a great woman, but she is also a saint and for us the very ideal of Christian womanhood as well.

Into the brief span of the twenty-four years of her earthly career she condensed all that is elevating, noble and heroic in a Christian woman’s life. It is significant that both she and St. Anthony lived at the same time and entered Heaven in the same year.

During the year 1931, while the whole world rang with the praises of him who is the world’s saint, the Church desired that his Franciscan sister, St. Elizabeth, should also be remembered as one whose life-story has a deeply practical lesson for the women of our day. Wherefore, Pope Pius XI has written a special letter in which he eulogises her many virtues and calls upon the women of every land not merely to admire but also to imitate her. No one better than Christ’s Vicar on earth knows how badly and how sadly the world needs women today who are cast in the same mould as the royal saint of Thuringia, if the neo-paganism which threatens to ruin society is to be effectively arrested.

Seven centuries have flown by since Elizabeth lived and worked in this world, but her name and fame, breathing forth the good odour of Christ, are still fondly cherished. It is no exaggeration to say that down the course of those centuries millions have been led to know and love Christ, in Himself and His suffering poor, better after having read her life-story. In these days when the Catholic Social Apostolate for women is so imperatively needed our saint will assuredly serve as a safe and encouraging guide. There is no sphere of woman’s life which she has not touched and adorned. Her appeal to human hearts is as universal as her charm is irresistible. On the maiden she inculcates the stern but paramount importance of modesty and self-restraint amidst the seduction of an ungodly and sensuous world; the self-sacrificing woman, who endeavour to help her needy neighbour, she warns that rebuff and ingratitude are to be expected; for the wife she mirrors forth the qualities that characterise loyal and dutiful love to her spouse; to the mother she recalls the beauty and strength of maternal affection; to the rich she silently preaches the spiritual independence begotten of detachment from earthly things: the poor she invites to patience and resignation with their hard and bitter lot: the lives of those in sorrow she brightens and warms by showing the blessing that mourning and tears can bring; to those who are maligned and misunderstood by the world she points out that persecution and trial are God’s sure way to a life of unending happiness in the great Beyond; the lonely widow she encouragingly bids to lean on the strong arm of the Only Friend whose Providence is as infinite as His Power and Love.

We trust that our Christian women -and especially those who as Franciscan Tertiaries can claim spiritual kinship with our saint-will ponder well upon the moral of this brief and imperfect sketch of her life. May they learn from her to know and love better the suffering Christ and His suffering poor whom she loved with the strong, pure and generous love of a valiant woman’s heart.

The compiler wishes to acknowledge with deep gratitude the help he received from the following sources: Lives of the Saints and Blessed of the Three Orders of St. Francis (Franciscan Sisters, Taunton), from which the main portion of the text is taken; St. Anthony’s Annals (Rev. R. Nash, S.J.); Ideals of St. Francis (Felder, O.M.Cap.); Catholic

Encyclopedia; Third Order Forum (U.S.A.); Crusader (Washington, D.C.); Third Order and You (Fr. Augustine, O.F.M.).

ELIZABETH was born in the year 1207, her parents being Andrew II, King of Hungary, and his wife Gertrude, daughter of the Duke of Carinthia. At the same time a son was born to Herman, Landgrave or Prince of Thuringia and Hesse, to whom was given the name of Louis. The young princess was scarcely four years old, when the Prince of Thuringia sent a solemn embassy to her father, to ask the hand of Elizabeth for his son Louis. If their embassy were successful the envoys were to bring the little child to the Thuringian Court, as was the practice at this epoch, in order that she might be early trained in the customs of a people of whom she would one day be the sovereign. Andrew acceded to the request, and confided his little daughter to the ambassadors, after making them magnificent presents. Elizabeth was given into the charge of a virtuous lady, to be taken care of and to be taught the pure lessons of faith.

The Thuringian Court was to witness the dawning virtues of young Elizabeth. Indeed even amidst its worldliness, the little girl managed to preserve an uninterrupted realisation of the presence of God. She would spend hours alone in the oratory of the palace, and sometimes the maids-of-honour would find her kneeling in the corridor outside the oratory door deeply wrapt in prayer when the place was locked. Very few of those around her had any sympathy with her ideals, and Elizabeth experienced the bitterness of a solitary life in the midst of a crowd. This state of affairs only served to make her lean more and more on her Divine Friend. “O Sovereign Spouse of my soul,” she used to pray, “never permit me to love anything but in Thee and for Thee. . . . .In my heart I renounce all riches and pomp. . . . O Spouse of my heart, so great is the love I bear Thee, that with joy I leave all that I am, that I may be transformed into Thee.”

Elizabeth had for a playfellow, a sister of Louis, named Agnes. When the two young girls went to church, they wore golden crowns studded with precious stones, but as soon as they entered the holy place, Elizabeth removed hers and did not replace it until she left the church. Duchess Sophia, the mother of Louis, was displeased at this behaviour, and asked Elizabeth why she did it. The young girl replied: “I could not appear arrayed in a gorgeous. shining crown, in the place where my Saviour hangs, cruelly crowned with thorns.” This reply vexed the duchess, and from that time there sprung up in her soul a feeling of envy, of which, as we shall see, the saint became frequently the victim. Moreover, it annoyed the duchess to see the child avoiding the Court festivities, and taking as little part in them as possible, escaping from the long and idle conversations to aid the poor, and give wise advice to the young girls in her service and induce them to help her in her works of charity. “We must send her to a convent,” she used to say some- times, “she leads the life of the cloister here, and does not understand the dignity of her rank.” These venomous words gave courage to the chief persons of the Court to say aloud what they thought. It did not seem to them Elizabeth was sufficiently well dowered to become the wife of a Prince of Thuringia. “It would be better,” they said, “to send her back at once to Hungary, or, better still, to marry her to some lord of the Court.”

Elizabeth heard these remarks. She also noticed that the persons accustomed to attend on her paid her less regard and respect. She shed bitter tears, but she had recourse to the Supreme Master, and with humble fervour recommended her cause to Him. God did not desert her in the midst of her trials. He Himself was the Author of this union of two loving hearts. Indeed, Louis of Thuringia was worthy of having the saint as his wife. He walked in her footsteps in the fear of God and in the faithful practice of the Divine precepts. He loved Elizabeth chiefly on account of her virtues, he admired in his future companion, her heroism, gravity, modesty, austere yet loving devotion, zeal for holy things, and, above all, her tender charity towards the poor. The young prince’s noble heart understood these beautiful and touching virtues, and when he saw the Thuringian Court set against her he manfully took her part.

The marriage took place in 1221. The prince ordered extraordinary magnificence to be displayed on this occasion, wishing to show how much he prized the unappreciated qualities of his holy bride, and how much he scorned the insults of which she had been too long the victim. After this her enemies were silent, considering it more prudent to act thus. The name of the young princess was in every mouth. Elizabeth did not allow herself to be dazzled by her more prosperous condition. Anxious to please God, she redoubled her austerities and prayers. She practised mortification every moment of each day. She limited herself at meals to what was indispensable to sustain life, and this with simplicity, without any affectation, or losing any of the sweet cheerfulness that belongs to the children of God. Always attentive to the wants of those present, she managed to turn attention away from herself by multiplied acts of loving charity towards others. She accustomed herself to rise in the night to resume her prayers and increase her mortifications. The prince willingly acquiesced in this sort of life. He thanked God from his heart for having bestowed on him such a virtuous wife. Yet Elizabeth in her fervour did not lose sight of the duties of her state. She cherished a very strong affection for her husband; she leant upon him as the protector of her innocence and the consoler of her sorrows. God blessed His humble servant and likewise rewarded the virtues of the Prince of Thuringia. Three children were born to them to add to the joys of their domestic life.

The characteristic virtue of our saint seems to have been her tender and inexhaustible charity towards the suffering members of Jesus Christ. The poor were her friends and her children, and the more repulsive their poverty and maladies, the more she loved to serve them. One day, a poor sufferer presented himself before her, his head covered with frightful wounds. Elizabeth took him aside, cut off his hair, washed his wounds, applied remedies to them, and then allowed him to rest his head, weary with suffering, for a few moments on her breast. Surprised in this kind act by some of her maids-of-honour, and upbraided by them rather bitterly, she accepted their reproaches with a sweet smile. Elizabeth had recognised in this poor man, Jesus, the outcast of the world for the salvation of mankind.

Every year, on Maundy Thursday, this servant of Jesus Christ, herself washed the feet of twelve poor persons and gave them abundant alms. On the same day she once collected together several lepers, washed their feet and hands and kissed their wounds. Elizabeth had always a special tenderness for these kind of sufferers. She never showed the least sign of disgust of them, and she never tired of exhorting them to patience nor of helping them with generosity. The pious princess imbibed this charity from the Heart of Jesus, through her love of the Cross and the Holy Eucharist.

At Mass she seemed to be wrapt in ecstasy, so sweetly was she absorbed in the contemplation of the Holy Mysteries. She could not sufficiently admire the Power, the Wisdom, and the Love of Our Lord in giving us this Sacrament, nor, at the same time, sufficiently esteem human nature, redeemed at the price of the sacrifice of the Cross, fed with the Flesh of God Himself, and a pledge of future glory given to it in the Sacrament of Love. The poor thus honoured, thus sanctified, were great in the eyes of the noble princess, they were worthy of respect, veneration and love. The lepers thus admitted to the banquet of the King of Kings, not as strangers but as children and heirs to the Kingdom of Heaven, could no longer be considered as the abject ones of the earth.

From the altar, she passed on to Calvary, there to contemplate again, God immolated for sinners, made as it were a leper, wounded and bruised and with no comeliness in Him, suffering unknown agonies. How then was it possible not to love the poor, not to cherish the sick, not to compassionate all the troubles which overwhelm our poor humanity? Charity springs from the Cross. And indeed, Elizabeth meditated unceasingly on the sufferings of our Crucified Lord. If she was admirable in her tenderness for the poor, it was because she was on fire with the love of the Cross, it was because she recognised in each poor person the image of God, born in a stable, living on alms and dying destitute on the Cross.

She extended her care also, to the voluntary poor. The Friars Minor, lately settled in Germany, found a devoted protectress in the young Princess of Thuringia. She welcomed them with respect, built them a convent at Eisenach, the capital of the State, and chose from among them a learned and holy director, in the person of Father Rodinger, one of the first Germans who had entered the Seraphic Order. The evangelic life of the new religious, all she heard related of their Seraphic Father Francis, stirred the generous soul of Elizabeth. She was overjoyed to learn from them that though remaining in the world she could become a spiritual daughter of Francis by entering the Third Order.

With the consent of Prince Louis, the Friars Minor admitted her as a Tertiary. St. Francis had already heard of her great virtues, of the benefits his Order had received from her, and he rejoiced over such a precious conquest. Persuaded by Cardinal Ugolino, afterwards Pope Gregory IX, St. Francis sent his poor cloak as a gift to his illustrious daughter, and the pious princess, long accustomed to venerate Francis as a friend of God, received it with feelings of lively gratitude. It was a treasure which death alone would take from her.

In the year 1225, the Prince of Thuringia was in Italy in attendance on the emperor, and famine was making itself felt in Germany. Knowing the generous disposition of her virtuous husband, Elizabeth considered it a duty to help all in need and not to leave any sufferers unaided. She therefore took whole families under her care, distributed food to them every day, and exhorted them to have confidence in the Providence of their Heavenly Father, Whose merciful Hand had more than once made Itself miraculously felt. As many of the poor, on account of their maladies, were unable to climb to the heights of the castle of Wartburg, Elizabeth established a hospital at the foot of the mountain, where they found a shelter against the inclemencies of the weather, a bed to repose upon in their sufferings, remedies to cure them, and nourishment apportioned to their needs. Elizabeth established two other hospitals in the town itself.

Every day she went herself to visit her dear sufferers. She questioned them all in turn, that she might be able to prepare the remedies required by each, to dress their wounds, make their beds, and render them the most humble services, and all this without showing the least repugnance, with a calm, loving and tender bearing, like a mother in the bosom of her family. In one of these hospitals were collected a number of children attacked by various maladies. The holy princess liked to make herself their infirmarian, to take care of them herself, and to do for them what even the most merciful charity might have shrunk from undertaking, so frightful were the wounds which afflicted some of these poor little ones.

Besides the poor maintained in the hospital, Elizabeth fed others in her own castle, and on several occasions it pleased God to multiply the food in the hands of His servant. Nine hundred persons were fed daily, either at the castle or the hospital or in their own homes. It was thus that the inexhaustible charity of their pious sovereign was shown. Neither were the poor of the provinces forgotten. Elizabeth managed to find out and assist those at a distance as well as those near at hand. The revenues of the State were, in her eyes, the natural property of those who were in want, she did not fear, therefore, to dispense them thus usefully.

However the heroic charity of the princess had not been able to live down distrust and envy. In the Thuringian Court there had always been jealous persons over whom her virtue had been unable to triumph. When the Prince returned from Italy he was besieged with complaints from those who had the management of his affairs. To listen to them, it would appear that Elizabeth had ruined him by her charities. “My castle is still standing,” said the Prince calmly in reply, “allow my sister (for it was so he called Elizabeth) to continue her good works. Bread will not be wanting as long as we allow her to give to the poor.” This answer silenced her detractors for a time. Louis of Thuringia showed himself worthy of his admirable wife by his ardent faith, and the daily practice of every Christian virtue. He belonged to that strong generation of Catholic princes of the thirteenth century, of whom the king St. Louis was the perfect model. He had also, in spite of his short career, made himself a great name, and it was not his least glory to have understood the merit of Elizabeth, to have made himself her strong protector and to have joined her name to his forever. The presence of the Prince, and his publicly known affection for Elizabeth, could not reduce the envious to silence. New accusations were made, under one pretext or another. God took upon Himself to justify her and make Himself her Defender. One day a leper presented himself to Elizabeth in a deplorable condition. Full of the deepest compassion, she gave him a bath, washed his wounds carefully, and then put him to bed in the Prince’s own bed, he being then absent. The Prince arrived unexpectedly and was soon told of what had taken place. Vexed and angry, he rushed to his room and violently tore aside the curtains of the bed. A man was lying there, it is true, but the leprosy had disappeared from his body, a holy light encircled his brow, and ineffable majesty was reflected in every feature, he lay nailed by his hands and feet to a Cross. It was the Leper that the prophet had seen in his holy visions, laden with the sins of the people, the Only and Eternal Son of the Heavenly Father, humbled to the death of the Cross. Louis of Thuringia remained speechless at the sight, his passion changed into an unutterable emotion, better than even he understood the marvellous sanctity of his wife.

The writers of her life tell us many other wonders with which it pleased God to reward the charity of His saint. One day as she descended into Eisenach, accompanied by her maidens, carrying meat and other provisions in the folds of her cloak, she found herself all at once face to face with the prince, who was returning from the chase. Astonished at seeing her bending beneath the weight of her burden, the prince wished to know what she carried. He opened her mantle himself, and to his astonishment it contained nothing but red and white roses, the most beautiful he had ever seen. This miracle has been the favourite subject of many well-known painters.

The holy princess was able to go on with her works of mercy for some time longer, without troubling herself about the ill-will of her detractors, but great trials were soon to fall upon her. The envious were to have their day of triumph, and this pure and heroic woman was to be plunged into inconceivable anguish. As a faithful follower of Jesus Christ, Elizabeth walked in His footsteps, in humility, meekness and tender compassion for the infirmities of mankind. With Him she was to climb the hill of Calvary, to drain the bitter chalice to the dregs, and to steep her soul in vinegar and gall. She was found worthy of being attached to the Cross of her Beloved, unreservedly.

In the year 1227, an army of crusaders, mustered through the influence of Pope Gregory IX, was ready to embark at Brindisi, after the feast of the Assumption, under the command of Frederick II, Emperor of Germany. The Prince of Thuringia was one of the first among the Catholic royalty to take the Cross. In spite of her grief at his departure, Elizabeth not only helped him in his noble determination, but accompanied him on a two days’ journey beyond the limits of their dominions. The hour of parting was unspeakably bitter, and the young princess wept as if a mournful presentiment weighed on her soul, while Louis himself had need of all his faith to carry out his sacrifice.

On his arrival at Troja in Sicily, he was received with the honour due to his rank by the Emperor Frederick II, whose dispositions had been so long uncertain that they brought the holy enterprise to nought. Louis of Thuringia was already suffering from fever before he embarked, but he did not consider his conditions sufficiently serious to delay his departure for a few days. However, his illness increased with frightful rapidity, and he received the Last Sacraments with a fervour worthy of a Christian hero. He saw that the time was come for him to quit this life, and, in the flower of his youth, he accepted the great sacrifice without a murmur or complaint, as if he had been on the battlefield. He adored the inscrutable designs of the Supreme Ruler, put himself and all those belonging to him under God’s Fatherly Providence, and fell asleep in the hope of entering that Jerusalem which the impure feet of the sinner shall never defile.

The prince died on the 11th September, near Otranto. The lords who were deputed to carry this mournful news to Wartburg, did not get there before the beginning of winter. Elizabeth had just given birth to her fourth child and was still ill. They were, therefore, received by the Duchess Sophia, whose love for her son’s wife seemed to revive, and she forbade anyone to tell her of the sorrow which had come upon her, for fear of endangering her health. Afterwards, when she thought the moment favourable, she went herself to Elizabeth to perform this heartrending task. The news was like a thunderbolt to Elizabeth. She remained speechless for a time, then clasping her bands, she exclaimed: “O Lord, my God! My brother is dead, he is dead! With him the whole world is dead to me.” And her tears and sobs expressed her inconsolable grief. Elizabeth became a widow at twenty, after having been married about six years.

Elizabeth was inconsolable; she mourned the loss of her beloved husband, but at the same time looked forward with terror to the future. For herself it is true she cared little, but what was to become of the three little children with whom God had blessed them? However, she quickly regained her peace of mind and resignedly said: “If this news be indeed true and my dear husband is dead I resolve from this moment to die as well-to myself and all earthly vanities.” God at once accepted her offering, for no sooner was the report verified than the storm which had been brewing during Louis’ lifetime now broke out with greater vehemence than ever.

Shortly afterwards, Henry, brother of the late prince, took possession of his states at the instigation of ambitious courtiers, and deputed some of them to go to his sister-in-law to reproach her for her works of charity, as if they had been so many acts of folly calculated to disgrace her family, and for her almsgiving. as ruinous extravagance from which the duchy had now to suffer. They were to inform her that in punishment for these faults, she was to be deprived of her possessions and of her castle, which she was to leave without delay. These hatefully cruel and flagrantly unjust orders were given in so merciless a manner that the Duchess Sophia, indignant at the audacity of the courtiers took her daughter-inlaw in her arms and defiantly exclaimed: “She shall remain with me, no one shall take her from me. Where are my sons? I wish to speak to them.” All protest was useless. Elizabeth was not allowed to take away the smallest thing; by force of circumstances she had to leave empty-handed the palace that had witnessed her glory and her holy works. In the court of the castle she found her children and two of her loyal maids-of-honour, Guta and Ysentrude, who were robbed and driven out like herself. At the sight of her son’s children the grief and indignation of the Duchess Sophia became unbounded. She again requested an interview with Henry and his brother Conrad. But the two princes had hidden themselves lest they might be influenced at the sight of the tears of their mother and sister-in-law. Elizabeth and her children were now condemned to utter poverty. The love and affection of the Duchess Sophia for her daughter-in-law was revived, never again to alter, but she had to content herself with weeping over Elizabeth and her little ones. Everything had been planned to effect her ruin.

Throughout the whole painful proceeding Elizabeth maintained wonderful calm. Never once did she betray a sign of anger or resentment. Never once did she utter a word of complaint about Henry. Grace had so completely taken possession of her soul that like the Apostle St. Paul she could rejoice exceedingly in the midst of tribulation. It is significant of Elizabeth that it is just at this time when one would expect her to be filled with sadness that she was caught up in the very torrent of Divinelove and poured out her soul in expressions of deep affection. “Ah, my Lord and my God,” she would exclaim, “mayest Thou be all mine and I all Thine! Nothing else matters. Let me love Thee, O Divine Lover of my soul above all things. Let me not love myself or anything else but Thee alone. Empty my heart of all things earthly and fill it with Thyself.”

Elizabeth, therefore, alone with her two faithful companions, descended on foot the path from the castle of Wartburg, which she had so often trod when dispensing her charities in the country around. She carried her new-born babe in her arms; the other three children followed, led by Guta and Ysentrude. It was bitterly cold, being in the depth of winter. The town of Eisenach, on which Elizabeth had showered her gifts, ought at any rate to have offered her some help, but orders had been issued that whoever should venture to receive Elizabeth with kindness would incur the displeasure of the new Landgrave. Eisenach showed itself worthy of such orders. All her services and all her kindness were forgotten; not a door was opened to the weeping princess and her four children shivering with the cold. Fear had frozen every heart. Elizabeth soon found out that in this place, where blessings had so often been called down on her, there was no one on whom she could rely. She went, therefore, to a miserable inn, where the owner consented to receive her. This man had only a stable to offer her, from whence first he had to drive out his beasts, and then make ready for her as best he could. But no sooner had she entered the place than peace returned to her soul; she was filled with holy joy and was exceedingly happy. It was indeed the abode of Bethlehem, such as she had had a glimpse of in her long meditations, such as she had been reminded of when visiting poor mothers whose poverty she had loved to relieve.

Having put her children to sleep, she continued to think over her new position without bitterness or repining, until midnight, when she heard the bells ringing for Matins at the Franciscan Church nearby. She directed her steps towards the house of prayer accompanied by her two companions, assisted at the Office, and then with the genuine spirit of Franciscan joy, begged the religious to sing the Te Deum in thanksgiving for the misfortunes which had come upon her. It was her hour of signal triumph over the world and herself. At the first shock, nature had rebelled, and she staggered under the humiliation, but she quickly recovered, and allowed herself to be fastened to the cross.

Certain charitable and reliable persons secretly offered Elizabeth to take charge of her children until better days should dawn. Fearful lest they might sink under the daily privation which was now their lot Elizabeth consented to this sorrowful separation. They were therefore hidden in places at a distance from the town and unknown to their persecutors. Once reassured on this point Elizabeth no longer felt that her poverty was burdensome, and she managed to make a living for herself by the labour of her hands. She even stinted herself in her poor food so as to have something to give away. Insults and gibes were not wanting in her time of trial, and often these came from those whose poverty she had relieved. One day a poor beggar woman whom she had formerly befriended, pushed her roughly and made her fall into a muddy stream, then adding insults to her brutality. “That is good enough for you,” she said gruffly; “you did not choose to live like a princess when you were one, lie there in the mud like a beggar- woman, and do not expect me to pull you out.” Elizabeth without losing her patience and meekness got up as well as she was able and began to laugh heartily over her fall, saying: “This is to make up for all the gold and precious stones I used to wear,” and she set to work to wash her garments in the water close by.

The saint accepted everything that happened not merely with patience but also with gratitude. She made no account of man’s share in it; her Heavenly Father alone was, in her eyes, the Dispenser both of good and evil. In the days of her great affliction, her enemies triumphed, the world forsook her and looked upon her as the most wretched of women, but her Divine Friend did not fail her. He proportioned His consolations to the measure of the afflictions which had become the lot of His faithful servant. He manifested Himself to her thus, initiating her into the happiness of Heaven and inebriating her with the joys of the Angels. The Queen of Heaven herself often appeared to her, instructed her in the deepest secrets of the perfect life, and raised her to the most exalted knowledge of the Divine mysteries.

However, the state of affairs soon changed. Matilda, Abbess of Kitsing-onMain, Elizabeth’s maternal aunt, hearing from the Duchess Sophia of the unexampled ill-treatment to which the pious princess was subjected, instantly despatched some trusty messengers to bring her to the convent. The princes did not dare to interfere, and Elizabeth was thus able for a few days to enjoy in peace the society of her children in this holy retreat. Soon her Uncle Egbert, Prince Bishop of Bamberg, heard in his turn of the misfortune that had befallen her in her widowhood. It was not enough for him that she should be in the sanctuary of Kitsing, he made Elizabeth come to his own states and offered to have her escorted back to Hungary. As she declined to accept this offer, he gave her the Castle of Botteinsten as a residence, with an income and household befitting her rank. Then with her two faithful followers she resumed her pious exercises by day and night, and the castle became a house of prayer and good works. The bishop also wished his niece to make a second marriage, and, in fact, she might have become the wife of the Emperor Frederick II. But her choice was made, definitely and irrevocably; God alone was to be her portion for evermore.

The companions of Louis of Thuringia had brought back the remains of their beloved sovereign to Germany. Before their arrival at Bamberg, they acquainted the bishop and princess of their return; and everything was arranged for the triumphal reception of the body of the great prince. The next day Elizabeth desired the coffin to be opened. In presence of her husband’s remains her deep and inconsolable grief was revived afresh. She shed tears and heaved deep sighs and was nearly succumbing to her unutterable sorrow. But at last she lifted her heart to God and strength returned to her soul. She thanked the Supreme Lord of all things for all that had happened; she accepted with touching submission the death of her dear husband which had followed.

The princes, who were the authors of Elizabeth’s troubles, assisted at their brother’s funeral, together with their mother, the Duchess Sophia. After the burial of the prince his noble companions consulted together on the events that had taken place during their absence, and determined to remonstrate strongly with Henry and his brother. Four of them were chosen for this mission. Accompanied by all the knights, they went to the palace of the young princes, and there in the presence of the Duchess Sophia one of them reproached Henry with his unworthy conduct, the cruelty of his acts, his forgetfulness of his first duties and most solemn obligations, his ingratitude to his virtuous and illustrious brother, the insult offered to God by such conduct, and the disgrace brought upon the country of Thuringia. The Duchess Sophia wept. The prince was so overcome that he also shed tears. He offered to make amends for his injustice and instructed four deputies to negotiate with Elizabeth the conditions of a reconciliation.

The saint, who was now more than ever detached from the things of this world, thus replied to Prince Henry’s proposal: “I do not want either his castles or his towns, his lands or anything which might encumber or disturb me, but I shall be very grateful to my brother-in-law if he will kindly give me, from what is owing to me of my marriage dowry, what will enable me to meet expenses I wish to incur for the salvation of my dear husband and my own.” An interview then took place between Henry and Elizabeth. Henry asked her pardon for the many grevious wrongs which he had inflicted on her. Her only reply was to throw herself weeping into his arms. The Duchess Sophia, her son Conrad, and the knights, all mingled their tears with those of the holy princess. Her children’s rights were vindicated, her eldest son, Herman, was acknowledged as lawful heir to the state of Thuringia and Hesse, and to Henry was confided the care of government during his minority.

After these arrangements, Elizabeth and her children returned to the castle of Wartburg from which she had been driven on the death of her husband. She lived there for one year, and gave herself up to prayer, contemplation and works of mercy. But soon the palace seemed to her too mixed up with the world, and she ardently desired to find some place where she could live in unbroken union with God. Not being able to get leave from her director, Fr. Conrad, of Marburg, to shut herself up in a Poor Clare Convent, she wore the habit of the Third Order, and added the three vows of religion to the practice of the Rule. Good Friday was the day she chose for this solemn consecration of herself to her crucified Lord. On that day she went with her children and household to the Franciscan Church, and there placing her hands on the altar, she vowed to renounce her own will, her relations and friends, and all the pomps and pleasures of this life, to belong unreservedly to her crucified Lord, and to follow Him till death in the paths of penance. The Guardian of the convent then cut off her hair, clothed her in the grey tunic, and girt her with the cord of St. Francis. Further, she bound herself to go barefoot, which austere practice she observed faithfully to the end of her days.

Having made this solemn vow, Elizabeth dedicated all the income which her director had not allowed her to give up to the relief of the poor. She wanted to beg her bread, but not having received permission to do so, she endeavoured to live like a poor working woman by the labour of her hands.

She concentrated her chief attention on the hospital at Marburg which she founded in order to devote the evening of her life entirely to the sick. Day and night she spent in their service, cleansing and dressing their sores, administering the remedies, consoling and leading them to God. Even the most repugnant task could not make her recoil. The lepers, hideous, though they were on account of their awful disease, were her dearest friends, and to them she consecrated herself with incomparable heroism and unspeakable joy. With heroic love she took to her bosom a poor girl afflicted with the leprosy whom the dreaded disease had so badly deformed that no one in the hospital had the courage to touch her or even to gaze upon her. Elizabeth brought her to her own little room and gave the sufferer her own bed, cleansed her sores and spent many hours with her, speaking to her with motherly affection and tenderness. “Oh, how fortunate we are,” she would say to her companions, “how fortunate we are to be allowed to wash and clothe Our Lord and Saviour in the person of the leper.” One day she said to the Father-Provincial, Father Gerard: “Oh, my Father, the most ardent desire of my heart is to be considered and treated as a leper. I wish they would construct for me as for the poor people a tiny hut of clay and straw, and hang in front of it a piece of linen warning the passers by, together with a poor box wherein alms might be placed.” Countless miracles marked these latter years of Elizabeth’s life, her name became more and more celebrated, the sick and infirm came in great numbers to implore the help of her prayers, and Our Lord, not willing to be outdone in generosity, was pleased to grant the petitions of a heart which beat with such heroic charity.

God did not long delay the end of His servant’s earthly career. She died on 17th November, 1231. Those who stood around her dying bed marvelled at the peace and calm with which she was filled. Her last words were: “Oh, Mary come to my assistance. The moment has arrived when God summons His friend to the wedding feast. The Bridegroom seeks His spouse.” Then she added, in a low tone: “Silence . . . Silence,” and breathed forth her soul. At her burial those who were present saw on the roof of the church an immense number of little birds who sang so sweetly that all were filled with admiration.

Very soon after the death of Elizabeth miracles began to be worked at her grave in the Church of the hospital, especially miracles of healing. Fr. Conrad showed great zeal in advancing the process of Canonisation, at the Pope’s command three examinations were held of those who had been healed, but before the process was finished Fr. Conrad was murdered, on 30th July, 1233. Two years later, however, the process was brought to a favourable conclusion, and the solemn ceremony of Canonisation was held by Gregory IX- the same Pope who canonised St. Francis and St. Anthony-at Perugia, on Pentecost Day of the year 1235. It is interesting to note that her brother-in-law, the Landgrave, Conrad, was present at the ceremony.

In August of that year the corner-stone of the beautiful Gothic Church of St. Elizabeth was laid at Marburg. This edifice is the greatest monument ever erected to any woman with the exception of the Blessed Mother of God. A year later the body of the saint was taken up in the presence of the Emperor Frederick II. and in 1249 was interred in the choir of the church itself. Pilgrimages to the grave soon increased to such an extent that it could be compared with the shrine of St. James at Compostella. In 1539, Philip the Magnanimous, Landgrave of Hesse, who had become a Protestant, put an end to the pilgrimages by prohibiting them and by forcibly removing the relics. Nevertheless, the entire German people are still intensely devoted to the “dear St. Elizabeth” as she is tenderly called. In 1907 a new impulse was given to her veneration in Germany and Austria by the celebration of the seventh centenary of her birth.

PRAYER TO ST. ELIZABETH

O Merciful God, enlighten the hearts of Thy faithful, and grant that through the glorious prayers of the Blessed Elizabeth, we may despise the pleasing things of the world, and ever enjoy the consolations of heaven, through Christ Our Lord. Amen.

THE THIRD ORDER OF ST. FRANCIS OF ASSISSI

The reader will have noticed that the great formative influence in the life of St. Elizabeth was the Third Order of St. Francis. She was received into it while still a young girl-only fourteen years of age-and during the brief span of ten years till her death one sees the gradual flowering of all those virtues that are inculcated in the Third Order Rule. She is one of the greatest ornaments, and is, with St. Louis IX of France, its special patron.

But what is this Third Order, the reader may inquire, that claims the glory of St. Elizabeth? The Third Order was founded by St. Francis as a means whereby people living in the world could attain Christian perfection without leaving home or family. There are many people who are unable or have not the inclination to enter religion, and yet who feel called to lead a more perfect life. For such people did St. Francis write the Third Order rule: by it he brought the religious life into the world by helping people to observe the spirit of the vows of religion. The Rule of the Third Order does not bind under sin, and is eminently suited to devout Christians who are anxious to lead a life of perfection. Its aim is primarily one’s own sanctification, and then the sanctification of others by good example.

The Rule has three chapters, but the following is a summary of its chief obligations:

1. Candidates for admission to the Order must be at least fourteen years of age, must be practising Catholics, of good character, and must make ayear’s probation or noviciate before being admitted to Profession.

2. From the day of reception into the Order, Tertiaries are obliged to wear the small scapular and cord.

3. They must observe moderation in dress, in amusements, and in eating and drinking, and must say grace before and after meals.

4. They must go to confession and communion at least once a month.

S. They are to recite the daily office of twelve “Our Fathers,” “Hail Marys.” and “Glorys.”

6. They are to set good example in their home life, and protect those under their care from the baneful influence of evil literature.

7. They are to cultivate charity and love of peace, and refrain from unkind and injurious words.

8. They are to assist, if possible, at daily Mass.

9. They are to examine their conscience every evening.

10. They are to assist at the monthly meetings of the Congregation, unless they are prevented from doing so by reason of distance or some other lawful excuse.

11. They are to visit one another in time of illness, where possible.

12. They are to say the rosary on the death of a fellow Tertiary, and offer communion for the repose of his soul. There are numerous indulgences and privileges attached to the Third Order, but one worth mentioning is that known as the “communication of Indulgences.” The First Order of priests and brothers, the Second Order of Poor Clares, and the Third Order consisting of people in the world, form one large spiritual family, and in virtue of this communication of Indulgences, members of the Third Order participate in life and death in all the Papal Indulgences granted to the First and Second Orders, and also share in all the spiritual fruits of their good works. These marvellous graces strengthen the Tertiary in his efforts towards Christian perfection, and give him comfort and security amid the trials and temptations of the world.

A person may join the Third Order by applying to any Franciscan Church or to any other Church where the Third Order is established. People who live where there is no Franciscan Church may, of course, be members of the Third Order and follow out the Rule of life, provided they are received by a Franciscan Father or by one who has obtained the necessary permission.

The lives of the saints are given to us for our imitation, and this sketch of the life of St. Elizabeth will be of lasting profit to the reader if it inspires him to follow her example, and enter the Third Order which led her to such great heights of sanctity.

Nihil Obstat

MICHAEL L. DEMPSEY

Censor Theol. Deput.

Imprimi Potest

@ EDUARDUS

Archiep. Dublinen, Hiberniae Primas.

DUBLINI, die 12a Nov. . 1931.

EX PARTE ORDINIS

Nihil Obstat

FR ROGERIUS MOLONEY, O.F.M. . Censor Deput

Imprimi Potest

FR. FLANNANUS O’NEILL. O.F.M. Min. Provlis. Dublini, die 5a, Nov. . 1931.

********

Saint Francis De Sales

INDEX

DOCTOR OF THE CHURCH 1567—1622

In the second half of the 16th century there lived at the Château de Sales in the parish of Thorens, Duchy of Savoy, Francis de Sales, Lord of Nouvelles, a descendant of the ancient family of de Sales. He married Frances de Sionnas, only daughter and sole heiress of Melchior de Sionnas, Lord of Vallières of La Thuille and of de Boisy, one of the oldest and best families in Savoy. She brought the estates of Boisy with her as her dowry on condition that her husband, Francis de Sales, should take the name of de Boisy, and it will therefore be as M. and Madame de Boisy that the parents of the Saint will be known in the following pages.

Mme. de Boisy’s first son was born on the 21st of August, 1567, Francis de Sales, the future Saint, Doctor of the Church and Prince Bishop of Geneva. God and man alike looked upon him with exceeding love. One of his biographers has written of him that “This Saint is not yet fully revealed to us”; but already his name is inexpressibly dear to the countless souls who have turned to him and his teaching as a never-failing source of strength and sweetness. Every saint seems to have a mission to reproduce in his life a special trait or characteristic in the life of Our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. For instance, St Francis of Assisi was called to a great love of poverty, St, Vincent de Paul to humility, and so on with the different virtues of different saints. Now the special trait of St Francis de Sales was the spirit of meekness and gentleness, the fulfilment of Our Lord’s teaching: Learn of Me, for I am meek and humble of heart (Matt. xi, 29), and also Blessed are the meek for they shall possess the land (Matt v, 4). It was this heavenly virtue which gave such a charm to St Francis, and the power which enabled him to attract and win souls so wonderfully to God.

Francis had the immense advantage of a good Catholic home. His father, without any claim to great sanctity, was an upright Christian gentleman with a high standard of honour. From his mother he learnt, from the earliest dawn of his intelligence, a tender love of God and of God’s poor. He was an apt and ready pupil. He delighted in giving alms to the poor, and not only money, of which after all a small child hardly knows the value, but delicate tit-bits from his own table.

When he was seven he was sent to the college of La Roche. After school was finished he used to, lead as many of his companions as would follow him to the nearest church to pray there before the Blessed Sacrament and to walk in procession (how childlike!) around the font.

But he was a thorough boy, full of vitality and even sometimes mischievous. He knew his way to the kitchen and to the heart of the cook! He delighted in manly sports, riding, dancing and fencing, and gained thus, not only strength and vigour; but the dignity and grace of movement which was so conspicuous in later life.

After two years at La Roche, he spent four more in the college at Annecy. It soon became clear that he was a lad of brilliant intellect joined to a tremendous capacity for work. Already, too, he seemed to have that unconscious power of attraction that was still more marked in later years. Looking upon him, people felt drawn to God, just as in time to come they would say: “If M. de Genève is so good, how wonderful must be the goodness of God.” confessed to his mother that when he looked upon his son, he felt a desire to be a better man.

The chief events of these years at Annecy were his First Communion and his receiving the tonsure. His father

The latter ceremony was considered by many in that age to be of little significance, but to Francis it was an act of the deepest meaning. It was the first step towards the complete dedication of himself to God, and with all his heart he uttered the sacred words “The Lord is the portion of my inheritance.”

UNIVERSITY LIFE, PARIS AND PADUA (1580–1591)

From Annecy Francis was sent to the University of Paris. He implored his father not to send him to the college of Navarre, whither most of the Savoyard nobles resorted, but to the newly-established Jesuit college, saying with the deepest humility that he might not have the same strength as others to resist temptation. His request was granted, and he was sent to study under the Jesuits, M. Déage, a good but narrow-minded man, being appointed his tutor. At Paris. he completed his rhetoric and philosophy, with the highest distinction, studying also theology, Scripture and Hebrew, and perfecting himself by his father’s command in all the exercises of a young noble.

Every day Francis made an hour’s mental prayer, read a considerable portion of some spiritual book, which he carried about with him, and made a visit to some sanctuary of the Blessed Virgin. He frequented the Holy Table, saying that he went to his Divine Master to learn the science of the saints, as he did to his earthly masters for secular instruction. He chose religious for his friends and monasteries for visits of recreation. “ We think so little of our salvation,” he used to say, “ these holy men think of nothing else!” He fasted and wore a hair shirt three days in the week, and was ever distinguished for chastity, the chosen virtue of the client of Mary and the sanctuary. “At Paris,” he said later, “ I greatly longed to be holy and perfect, and studied to obtain humility and gentleness with great fervour.” And it seems that M. Déage furnished the humble youth with many an opportunity. He was strict and irritable, and did not hesitate to box his pupil’s ears when Francis, according to his wont, let himself be thought guilty of what was really the fault of others.

It was towards the end of his six years in Paris, when Francis was seventeen, that he suffered a dreadful trial which perhaps marks in his life the transition from extraordinary to heroic sanctity. He felt that it was impossible for him to he saved. All his struggles, and prayers, his study on the grounds of hope and of the doctrine of predestination were of no use. His strength was actually wearing away and his soul was shadowed by the darkest melancholy. All he could do was to continue his exercises of piety and virtue, while he constantly uttered to God these words of resignation: “Ah, Lord, if I am never to see Thee, nor Thy Blessed Mother in the next world, suffer me at least to love Thee here below.” This fearful trial lasted for six weeks, and ended, suddenly while he was saying the Memorare with great fervour before a statue of the Blessed Virgin, after he had made a vow of chastity and a promise to say his Rosary every day.

From Paris, after a few months’ stay at home, Francis went to Padua. There, under the immediate direction of the great Possevin and with the help of the most illustrious masters in the world, he completed his seventeen years of education. His extraordinary talents, his judgement, imagination, and taste, were developed and refined to the utmost. In conferring on him at last the degrees of Doctor in Canon and in Civil Law, Pancirolo, the great jurist, declared that the famous University had never bestowed them on a graduate who had better deserved them. During these four years Francis’s love of God increased by continual exercise. His spiritual life may be seen in the Spiritual Combat which he always carried about with him and reduced to exact practice, and in the rules of conduct which he drew up for himself. He was obedient as a child-gentle, humble, simple, like a fervent religious. Yet in his sweetness there was no lack of strength. His consistency in self-mastery required a supernatural fortitude, nor could vice, which was rampant in that University town, lift its head in his presence without courageous and scathing rebuke. In one of the trials to which his good looks exposed him he turned out of his house a so-called friend who had made ,himself the bearer of infamous proposals. On another occasion when attacked by some young bullies he drew his sword and quickly put them to flight.

FROM UNIVERSITY UNTIL PRIESTHOOD (1591–93)

After his brilliant success at Padua, Francis sought rest from his labours and refreshment for his spirit in lovely Italy. During some six months he visited many towns of holy memory, including Loreto and, of course, Rome, where he stayed for some time.

On his return to Savoy, he took up his abode with his parents, who were then living at La Thuille, near Annecy. He was now twenty-five years of age. His father and mother were delighted both with his personal appearance and the magnificent promise which his fine qualities gave for the future. M. de Boisy granted him the estate of Villaroget, and Francis bore the title of Baron de Villaroget until he became Provost of Geneva. For some eighteen months he now led, at least outwardly, the ordinary life of a young noble.

That he should one day be a lawyer and a senator and make a brilliant marriage were among M. de Boisy’s designs for his son, but Francis had very different and nobler ideas of greatness. He confided to his mother and to his cousin Canon Louis de Sales his unalterable determination to dedicate himself to God in the priestly state. How to obtain his father’s consent he knew not, but his cousin got over the difficulty by procuring for him without his knowledge the Provost-ship of the Chapter of Geneva, which happened to fall vacant at that time. This dignity made the disappointment less grievous to the father, and Francis instantly accepted it as the only way of obtaining his desire. He was installed Provost at Annecy, the place of residence of the exiled Bishop and Chapter of Geneva, and shortly after received the sub-diaconate. The Bishop insisted that he should at once begin to preach. He showed all the virtues of a perfect ecclesiastic, and amongst other works of zeal founded the great Confraternity of the Cross of Mary Immaculate and SS Peter and Paul, in order the better to combat heresy and to make reparation to God for the fearful outrages it had offered to His Sacred Majesty. He was ordained priest on the 18th of December 1593.

ST FRANCIS AS PRIEST: LIFE AT ANNECY (1593–4)

On receiving the Priesthood, Francis gave up as dross and without a moment’s consideration, his birthright, his title, and his income. He left it all, and he left it with a joyful heart: “For Thou, 0 Lord,” he said, “hast wonderfully placed me in hope,” and his hope was this: that he might go into the lanes and byways, to seek out the forsaken and the sinful, to watch by the bedside of the dying, and in loneliness and poverty to become in deed and truth all to all, that he might gain souls to Christ.

His time at home was spent in prayer or in the studies suited to his profession; abroad in works of religion and charity. He preached very frequently, not in the formal and unreal style of that day but with evangelical simplicity and earnestness. He had a confessional made for himself close to the door of the church, and thither crowded all the poor and afflicted as well as the devout. He received them as a loving shepherd and father, rejoiced over their penitence, mingling his tears with theirs over their sins. He visited the sick, distributed abundant alms, and spread devotion in public and in private.

Meanwhile he was unconsciously preparing himself for higher things; his magnificent powers, his apostolic virtues and zeal were to have an apostle’s field of exercise; the poor lost sheep of the Chablais were waiting for him.

THE CONVERSION OF THE CHABLAIS (1594–1598)

The Chablais is the most northern province of the ancient Duchy of Savoy, running along the south side of the Lake of Geneva and thus bordering on Swiss territory. Sixty years before the time of which we are now speaking the Swiss Calvinists had treacherously seized upon all that part of it which lies west of the Drance, and had succeeded in destroying the Catholic religion. Savoy regained Chablais after thirty years, but agreed to allow the practice of the Protestant religion only. In 1589 the Swiss seized it again, but Charles Emmanuel, Duke of Savoy, quickly retook it, and as he was now free from former obligations he determined to re-establish the old religion. Protestantism was only to be tolerated in three places, and of these Thonon, the capital, was not to be one. Charles Emmanuel had scarcely retired when the Swiss for the third time over ran the unfortunate country; but after a desultory warfare lasting till 1593 they had to beg for a truce, and meantime to surrender the Chablais unconditionally to its rightful sovereign. Force had failed, so the Duke now determined to apply the right means of preaching and persuasion. The Bishop of Geneva was requested to send zealous missionaries, and Francis de Sales, thirsting for souls, volunteered to go, his cousin Canon Louis at first assisting him. It would indeed seem to have been a hopeless enterprise, at least to human eyes. In sixty-five parishes, containing upwards of 25,000 souls, there were scarcely a hundred Catholics. The churches had been stripped or destroyed, altars and bells taken away, and there was not a priest in the whole district.

“The people of Berne and Geneva,” writes Francis, “h ave deterred the people from listening to our sermons, saying that the truce is but a truce and that presently Duke and priests will be driven out and heresy flourish again.” On the other hand, the Duke was so much engaged in various affairs that he seemed to have forgotten the Chablais. Again, after two years’ preaching, Francis writes to him: “The people will not believe that we are here by Your Highness’s orders, as nothing is done for us; even the expenses incurred here have not been paid.” Through the frequent changes in their religion, the people had lost all sense of the Faith. “We must take from them the love of the world before we can convert them,” said Francis.

Such was the sterile and ungrateful field of the Saint’s labours. He had scarcely set foot in it before he was assailed by all the forces of evil. He was proclaimed to be a sorcerer and an emissary of the devil, his life was attempted several times, and a missioner who had preceded him was forced to flee for his life from Thonon. It was in this town that Francis began his preaching, but he found it necessary to return every night to the Fort d’Allinges. Sometimes he made excursions into the country parts, preaching in every village if he could find an audience, and often he found it impossible to procure either food or shelter; if benighted, he took refuge under overhanging eaves of houses or among the branches of trees. At last, unable to get a hearing, he began to write out copies of his teaching and to send them about from house to house. Thus he is worthily acclaimed as the patron of Catholic journalists. In this way, he composed his great controversial work, which was published after his death, under the title of Les Controverses, a powerful and able defence of the Catholic Faith. All the time he continued to display the apostolic virtues-love of God and of souls; tender solicitude; unwearying patience. There was still no visible result, but it was really in this time that the seed was sown which produced such abundance afterwards.

There is not space here to enter into the details of the Chablais mission and how hearts were gradually converted to Catholic doctrine. The first converts had to leave the country, but at last the Duke awoke to a sense of his obligations, and seconded these noble efforts. He sent for Francis to go to Turin, gave him an allowance for himself, promised to support more missionaries, and authorised him to say Mass in one of the churches of Thonon. This was enough, and the people having now the hope of safety began to put their convictions into practice. The old traditions of the Faith revived, the churches were repaired or rebuilt.

In October the Papal Legate, accompanied by the Duke, came to receive the reconciliation of the country and thousands made their recantation in his presence. Such a spectacle of grace and faith had not been seen since the conversion of the nations. Hardly a hundred heretics remained where, four years previously, there had been scarce a hundred Catholics. The glory of this result must be attributed, under God, to the virtues, wisdom, preaching, sufferings, and perseverance of the Apostle of the Chablais.

THE FIRST PART OF HIS EPISCOPATE (1599–1612)

Francis had scarcely brought the mission of the Chablais to its triumphal close, when he was appointed Coadjutor to the venerable Bishop of Geneva, with right of succession. He had long refused this dignity, and only accepted it under pressure from his superiors, who assured him that otherwise he would be resisting the manifest will of God. Even when he had accepted it, Francis would not accept episcopal consecration until the time of his actual succession.

His first business was a journey to Rome about religious matters of the diocese. He was accompanied by M. de Chissé, Bishop Granier’s nephew; he it was who presented his uncle’s letter to the Pope, requesting that his Coadjutor should succeed him. The Holy Father was greatly pleased and at once granted the request, and sent word to Francis to get ready for the necessary examination. The Coadjutor humbly asserted the privilege of exemption from examination, claimed by the Savoyard Bishops, but the Holy Father himself examined him, saying that he wished not to test but to manifest his knowledge. The Venerable Juvenal Ancina was present, and going afterwards to congratulate him, embraced him tenderly and exclaimed: “ Oh how much more do 1 rejoice today to see you so truly humble, than I did at your examination to see you so truly learned! “ At this time Francis also met Baronius, Bellarmine, and other great men of the Church.

On his return to Savoy, he became busy with the affairs of the diocese, particularly temporal matters in the Chablais, and he spent a great part of the year 1602 in Paris in connection with another portion of the diocese of Geneva called Gex. This portion had been taken from Savoy by the Swiss when they usurped the Chablais, but ultimately it came into the possession of France. So charmed was Henry IV with the mild dignity of the prelate from Savoy that he begged Francis to accept the first vacant bishopric in his gift, with the most liberal promises of patronage. But Francis assured the monarch that he would never forsake his poor spouse, the bishopric of Geneva, for a richer one, and that if he left her it would be to take no other. He preached during Lent at Paris that year with such eloquence and earnestness that the Bishop of Evreux declared: “ I can convince heretics, but it is only Mgr. de Genève who can convert them.”

This visit to France (for Savoy was not France) was most important in its influence upon the development of our Saint. Though his brilliant intellectual gifts, his charming personality and his evident sanctity so greatly impressed those whom he met, yet he received more than he bestowed. Paris was the centre of a religious revival. Devotion was, so to say, all the rage, amongst fashionable people, and a movement of reform was powerful and active. Madame Acarie, afterwards Blessed Mary of the Incarnation, was already regarded as a second St Teresa, and was in close contact with a large circle of saintly men and women. Her director, Cardinal de Berulle, was the master, of saints like John Eudes and Vincent de Paul, and profoundly impressed St Francis. “He is everything,” said the latter, “which I should desire to be myself.” Amongst those whom he met at this time were the Carthusian Dom Beaucousin, Asseline, Gallemant and Duval, doctors of the Sorbonne and many others. Francis was even an occasional confessor of Madame Acarie herself, and after her death used to reproach himself that, through deference and respect, he had not learned more of the secrets of her sanctity.

Moreover, at this period he worked hard to perfect his literary style. One model he chose was Montaigne, the brilliant essayist who now had been dead ten years.

It is noteworthy that on his return from France he appears at once in the full maturity of his powers. He now begins to write those wonderful letters of direction which, charming in themselves, are still more important as the foundation of his later works.

Upon his arrival at Lyons, on his homeward journey, he learnt of the death of Mgr. Granier, and hastened home to prepare himself for consecration as his successor. At Thonon in the Chablais, now through his apostolic labours restored to the Catholic Faith, he received, on December 8th, 1602, the fullness of the priesthood. He confessed afterwards that during the ceremony he received wonderful graces from God. “God,” he said, “took me from myself at that moment and gave me to my people, that, I might no longer live except for Him and for them.”

HIS PRIVATE LIFE AND HOUSEHOLD

Before his consecration he made a retreat of twenty days in which he drew up a rule of life for himself. In accordance with it, he had his house arranged like a monastery with fixed hours and rules. The rooms for his household and for visitors were large and well furnished, but his own bedroom or cell was a small, dingy, ill-furnished closet. “I must be the Bishop of Geneva by day,” he said, “but I shall be Francis de Sales by night.” He rose early, and gave an hour to prayer and two hours to study before saying Mass. After Mass; when he was at home, almost the whole of the remainder of the day was taken up with the affairs of the diocese and of those who came to consult him. He was accessible to all-not only to his officials or to persons with important business, but to the most ordinary visitors, rich or poor, persons to whom many would have considered it a waste of time to speak. As his wisdom and impartiality became better known, it began to be a custom to take lawsuits before him; one witness at his canonization deposed that he had assisted at over a hundred of such pleadings. Not only did the parties themselves appear, but they brought their legal advisers with them and turned the Bishop’s room for the time being into a noisy law court. Francis alone preserved an imperturbable peace, and after a day of such wearisome and often wasted labour he would return to his own work with as much calmness as if he had been engaged in congenial and successful undertakings. He had an enormous correspondence, but would never employ a secretary lest his correspondents should feel less confidence in him. But it was to spiritual business that he most willingly devoted his time, particularly to hearing confessions. This he would do at any hour, even taking off his vestments when ready for Mass to hear the most casual of penitents.

At Provost, Francis had received and invited to come to him the worst of sinners and the lowest of people; but now as Bishop, he claimed them, particularly those whose sores and other bodily infirmities made them the more repulsive. He gave public alms twice a week and no one was sent away unrelieved. When he had exhausted his purse he would give away his clothes, and his chief anxiety was to escape the notice of his much harassed and often impatient steward.

He also urged upon his clergy the observance and rules of the Council of Trent as to clerical dress, church services, registers and the like, and of his own regulations also as to public catechism and instruction of the people. He appointed special acts of reparation on Thursdays for the insults offered to the Blessed Sacrament by the heretics of his diocese. Throughout his life he laboured for the reform and practically the re-establishment of various religious orders and houses, a work in which he met with many disappointments, but also with some signal successes. The French part of his diocese were increased by the action of the French Government, which arose chiefly from a certain jealousy between France and Savoy at this time. Refusals for leave to visit or preach there, and delays in answering his communications often caused him wearying anxiety and waste of time.

The Bishop’s next great and special work for his diocese was the personal visitation of every parish in it. He visited every place where men could live. The high mountains of Savoy and Mont Blanc itself are in the ancient diocese of Geneva, and this devoted shepherd often travelled on bleeding hands and knees with his feet a mass of wounds, sometimes in a state of high fever caused by his violent exertions in climbing the heights. At night he was so weary that he could not move mind or body. He fed his own soul on the glorious spectacle of nature in those regions, and on the virtues and affections which he found among the simple mountaineers. Everywhere he corrected the abuses and renewed religious fervour, visited the sick and dying, reconciled enemies, and delivered the possessed.

Yet in the midst of such engrossing labours he maintained the closest union with God. Asked once whether he ever forgot God’s presence, he replied humbly: “Yes, sometimes, for a quarter of an hour!”

It was when he was preaching the Lenten sermons at Dijon in 1604 that he became acquainted with the Baroness de Chantal, afterwards St Jane de Chantal.

She had prayed earnestly to God to send her a trustworthy guide and had seen in vision the form of a man, whom afterwards she recognised as St Francis. He on his side could not fail to notice the handsome, well-dressed young widow who drew up her chair near to his pulpit; he inquired about her and made her acquaintance. It was a momentous meeting for both of them.

She had been under obedience to an unwise director who made things worse by extracting from her a promise not to apply for spiritual help to anyone but himself. St Francis set her free from her scruples and guided her in that broad, large and generous way of liberty that was characteristic in him.

Madame de Chantal’s servants remarked that “Madame’s old confessor had bidden her say her prayers three times a day and then they were all tired of it, but the new one [meaning the Bishop] made her pray all day long and no one was put out.” He cultivated the undisturbed growth of the soul in undisturbed peace-a peace far removed from idleness and consisting in the despising rather than dreading of temptation. Thus his spiritual children might go on their way without self-torture or morbid introspection.

Most of St Francis’s direction of the future St Jane Frances was effected by letter. The letters that survive are a precious revelation of the holiness of these two elect souls and of the love which united them. St Francis writes tenderly, courteously and affectionately. It was in his nature so to do and he won souls to God thereby. But he is able to criticise himself. “There are no souls in the world, as I think,” he writes to St Jane Frances, “who love more cordially, tenderly and (to speak in all sincerity) more lovingly than I; and I even abound in affectionateness and words thereof, particularly at the beginning. . . . . for it has pleased God to make my heart so: but still I like souls that are independent, vigorous and not feminine; for such great tenderness disturbs the heart, disquiets it, distracts it, etc.”

Nor is it onlyto St Jane Frances that he writes affectionately. “. . . . .. . . . . .The names of father and daughter are more Christian, more sweet and of greater force to testify the sacred love which Our Lord has willed to be between us. . . . . . Live all for God, my dear daughter, and often recommend to His goodness the soul of him who, with an invariable affection, is entirely dedicated to yours”-all this is written, not to St Jane Frances, but to that poor spoiled saint, Angelique Arnauld.

Yet his tenderness was no hindrance to his complete detachment. “I am the most affectionate person in the world,” he writes, “and yet I think that I love nothing but God, and the souls of all creatures for God.” To St Jane Frances he said often that when he was not in the presence of his friends, he could not say what they looked like!

He was detached,” she afterwards wrote, “from life and death, from relatives and friends. His spirit triumphed over all that. Such was his greatness of soul.”

Moreover, if he was always courteous and affectionate, he did not spare his rebukes when needed. . At the beginning of his acquaintance with Madame de Chantal, he had something to say of her dress. “Madame, if you did not wear this lace, would you cease to be well-dressed?” Once he asked her if she intended to re-marry, and when she hastened to repudiate the idea, he bade her “lower her flag.” On another occasion when a lady who visited him was somewhat too décolletée, with a smile he offered her a packet of pins. So too in his letters: “There are two women in you,” he writes to Mother de Chastel, “the one, like St Peter at first, is a little touchy, sensitive, ready to be put out and vexed when she is contradicted. She is a daughter of Eve and therefore of ill humour. The other has a very good will to be all God’s, and, in order to be all God’s, to be very simply humble and sweet towards all her neighbours. . . . She is a daughter of the glorious Virgin Mary and consequently of good affection . . .” The Saint goes on to develop this thought; the bad one is perverse, overbearing, and struggles against the good one, but the good one must not be discouraged; she will gain the victory in the end. Who could take offence at rebukes so charmingly administered?

The letters are still delightful and helpful to read, best of all in their somewhat quaint old French.

The Saint’s best known book, the Introduction to a Devout Life, was largely a collection of the letters of direction he had written to a certain Madame de Charmoisy. It was first published in 1608 and can be called epoch-making, for it taught, what was not by any means universally recognised, that all are called to perfection, even those who live “in the world.” We must not forget that in his terminology “devotion” is equivalent to perfection, and perfection, as also according to the teaching of St Thomas Aquinas, equivalent to perfect love of God. He wished those living the devout life in the world to be well-dressed, attractive, and, in a word, a good advertisement for “le bon Dieu.” He even allowed them to dance, whereat some “pious” hands were lifted in horror! A characteristic of this, as well as of his other writings, is his use of examples from natural history. He draws much of this material from Pliny, and whether his bees and doves are real or fabulous, they give charm and vivid illustration to his books.

THE FOUNDATION OF THE ORDER OF THE VISITATION (1610–1612) For some years after their first introduction, St Francis, and Madame de Chantal rarely met. Travelling was not easy and Dijon is far from Annecy. St Jane Frances was often a visitor to the Carmelites at Dijon and in her letters to her director discussed the lessons that there she learned. It is quite clear from their correspondence that the two saints advanced together in the spiritual life, and that if the Bishop of Geneva taught much, he also learned much.

After long hesitation he sent for St Jane Frances and disclosed to her the conclusions at which he had slowly arrived concerning her future. Finding her ready to accept whatever he decided, he told her of his project for a new order for women. It was to prescribe no severe bodily austerities, for he wished to admit not only the young and robust, but also older women, widows and others, who had been accustomed to the refinements of life and who by delicate health would be precluded from entering existing orders. For exterior mortification they were to substitute the mortification of the will and the affections. No one who reads in St Francis’s letters the complete self-abnegation, which he teaches will ever be under any delusion as to the strength and vigour of his direction. Suaviter in modo—yes, unfailingly—but fortiter in re.

The other aim of our Saint was to allow his religious, even after their profession, to combine the active with the contemplative life, to go out to visit the sick and to do other works outside their convent. It was for this reason that he gave to his foundation the title of the Visitation. . But current prejudices were too strong for him. Nuns, it was generally considered, ought to be under strict enclosure. In deference to the wishes of Cardinal de Marquemont, Archbishop of Lyons, on the occasion of the foundation of a house of the Visitation in that city, St Francis agreed to alter his plan, and the nuns of the Visitation became the enclosed order that we know to-day.

It was left to St Vincent de Paul, at a later date, to succeed, with his Sisters of Charity, in giving non-cloistered religious to the Church. The Visitation was founded on June 6th, 1610, Madame de Chantal with two others being the first members, soon to be joined by others. prayer, many of which are still preserved. St Francis gave them conferences on the spiritual life, and the ways of

His direction of these holy women resulted in the writing of his masterpiece, the Treatise on the Love of God, a work which mirrors the full development of his own mystical initiation. After all, mysticism is but the love of God. There is nothing higher.

This treatise cost him every moment of the years 1616 and 1617, and he said that for a few lines of it he had sometimes read twelve hundred folio pages, among others of St Thomas, St Bonaventure, Denis the Carthusian, Louis of Granada, Cardinal Bellarmine, St Teresa, St Catherine of Siena, and St Catherine of Genoa. . . . .

THE SECOND PART OF HIS EPISCOPATE (1612–22)

Anxious eyes now noticed that there was a change in the beloved Bishop. He was in the prime of life as regards age, but he had filled a long time with his incessant, self-forgetful toil. At the suggestion of the Duke of Savoy, the Saint’s brother was chosen by the Pope as his Coadjutor, and John Francis de Sales was consecrated Bishop of Chalcedon in 1618.

The mind of Francis now seemed to be turned more and more towards the passage to eternity. In a letter written on the eve of the Assumption of Our Lady he says: “I was meditating this evening on this Queen, dying of a fever sweeter than all health-I mean the fever of love which sets her heart on fire in such sort that she breathes forth her holy soul, which goes straight to the arms of her Blessed Son. Ah! how fair is the dawn of the eternal day !”

The Cardinal of Savoy now desired that the Bishop should accompany him to Paris to assist in arranging the treaty of marriage between Christina of France, sister of Louis XIII, and the Prince of Piedmont. Every moment of his stay in Paris cost him dear, owing to the eagerness of the clergy and nobility to profit by his stay among them. Three more years passed in comparative tranquillity, and the quiet patience of Francis hid his almost constant suffering. Great hopes were entertained that he might yet be spared to the world for many years. But, alas, these hopes were not to be realised. Once again the Bishop was urged to accompany the Duke of Savoy to Avignon to meet the French King, with whom the Duke was there to have an interview.

The day Francis was to leave Annecy he went to the convent which had been his constant care for ten years. He said his Mass there for the last time. When it was finished, he gave a short instruction to the Sisters on his favourite motto: “Ask for nothing and refuse nothing.” Then he said: “Goodbye, my children, until eternity.” The Sisters threw themselves weeping at his feet, exclaiming: “May God bring you back soon.” “And if it pleased Him not to bring me back,” he replied, “would He be less lovable?”

On the 25th of November the two Sovereigns left Avignon for Lyons, and the holy Bishop had to follow the Court of Savoy, in spite of his dislike of grandeur and his ever-increasing infirmities. Except for the change in his appearance no one would suspect how much he suffered. His face shone with sanctity, and even the Calvinists who heard his words shared the general veneration and enthusiasm of the Catholics. “Ah,” they cried out, “If all the bishops were like this we should all soon be Catholics!”

They spoke truly, and the immense success of St Francis in the conversion of heretics is a striking proof of their words, for it is said that he converted over seventy thousand people.

On his arrival at Lyons the Bishop refused all invitations to stay in magnificent houses; he had already engaged a small room, in the gardener’s cottage at the Visitation Convent where he could be free to do as he liked. He spent much of his time at the convent discoursing upon things of eternity with his dear daughters of the Visitation. Mother de Chantal, who had been visiting various newly-founded houses of the Order, had not seen the Bishop for over three years. She had arranged to meet him at Lyons, for there were many personal things about which she wished to consult him, as well as those relating to the Order, and she had written them all down. They had to wait some time before they could meet, for the Bishop’s time was much taken up by the King and the Duke. When at last he came to the convent he said at once: “Let us finish the affairs of our little congregation. Ah! how much I love it, for I think that God is well served in it.” They therefore continued for four hours to arrange the affairs of the Order, and then it was time for him to leave. Mother de Chantal never saw him again. She had to go to Grenoble in the freezing days of December to visit the convent there, and the moment was coming when this great servant of God was to be rewarded for all his labours.

During the days preceding Christmas, Francis preached wherever he was asked. When, on the feast itself, he said midnight Mass at the Visitation Convent, Mother de Blonay, the Superior, saw an ange1 standing by his side. He went thence to hear the confession of the Prince and Princess of Piedmont, for whom he said his second Mass, and then returned to the convent for his third. The next day, 26 December, after a day of work and fatigue, he came to the convent very late and gave the Sisters a Conference on Divine Love and the duties of religious life. He stayed there until his servants came with torches to conduct him to his little room in the cottage. He then blessed all the Sisters, reminding them, as he had done at Annecy, to “Ask for nothing and refuse nothing.”

On the 27th, the feast of St John, Francis rose, and, feeling that his sight was failing, he thanked God for the weakness which was weighing him down. Then he went to confession and said Mass; after which came interviews with the Duke de Nemours and the Duke of Bellegarde, Governor of Burgundy, and many others. Francis had intended to leave Lyons that day, but on his return to the cottage his attendants besought him to postpone his departure until the next. About two o’clock in the afternoon he fell down in a faint and half-an-hour afterwards was struck with apoplexy and paralysis; but he quickly recovered consciousness and speech. In those days the remedies for these diseases were terribly cruel, including even burning the head with hot irons to prevent lethargy. The Saint bore all with perfect patience, without murmur or complaint, though the tears were running down his cheeks. He saw and blessed the numerous visitors who crowded into the room; among them was Jean Jacques Olier, of whom Francis foretold the future sanctity, and work for God and the Church. Shortly before eight in the evening, those at the bedside, seeing the end had come, began the prayers for the dying, and at the moment when for the third time they repeated the invocation Omnes sancti Innocentes, orate pro eo, he gently gave his last sigh, and slept in the peace of our Lord. It was the feast of the Holy Innocents, 28th December, 1622.

He is buried in the church at Annecy by the side of St Jane Frances de Chantal.

********

Saint Francis of Assisi

DOMINIC DEVAS, O.F.M

INDEX

INTRODUCTION

THE Italy of today, at least in its countryside and smaller towns, resembles the Italy which St Francis knew seven hundred years ago far more closely than modern England resembles the England of the thirteenth century. Apart from isolated fragments that here and there survive, the whole face of our country has been completely altered. The religious upheavals in the sixteenth century, the imperial expansion in the centuries that followed, the industrial revolution in the nineteenth, all contributed to bring about a fundamental change. Other countries have fared better or at least changed less. The immense contrasts between Normandy and Hampshire became immediately apparent to our men in 1944. Their education had provided them with no inkling that such contrasts existed, nor with any guide to measure them; they, like England itself, had long since been severed from their origins.

Elsewhere continuity has been less gravely assaulted; and where religion has kept some hold upon the lives and thought of the people, one powerful element of continuity, knitting the centuries together one to another as they pass, has been present. Assisi of today and its surrounding country and the lives its people live would not strike St Francis as so very unlike the Assisi which he knew and the people he lived with and loved there. The political surface has changed, no doubt, but not the fundamentals, the life, the buildings, the churches-above all, the religion. Politically, the unit in the days of Francis was still the city and the surrounding lands with some sort of allegiance-claimed and admitted or denied and withstood, as the case might be-to a greater power, the Empire perhaps, or some league of cities, or the Papacy. Actually, a typical change in its political life took place at Assisi when Francis was about seventeen: the nominee of the Emperor, whose castle dominated the town-as its ruins do still-was driven out, the city walls were rebuilt, allegiance to the Empire thrown off, and a quasi-independent status was established and maintained till such time as the Papacy claimed to replace the Empire as Assisi’s overlord, and made good its claim. But such changes, exciting as they must have been at the time, left no lasting alteration in the lives and habits of the people, much less in the countryside itself. So it comes about that though Francis lived a .long time ago, the world he knew may still be explored today, and it is easy to see him now in just such surroundings as history shows us to have been his when he lived. This is one reason of his great popularity, especially in view of the wealth of contemporary literature in which he figures.

But it is Francis himself who provides us with the reasons to account for the widespread devotion to him. There was about him a broad humanitarianism which endeared him to all he met, a directness of approach which proved irresistible, whether he was dealing with Pope or Sultan, cultured men or rustics, good men or bad; an entire absence of parade, of artificiality, of the studied manner, together with so palpable a sincerity in his words, whether of praise, rebuke, or sympathy, that they achieved their purpose at once; a disarming trustfulness in claiming help from others, material or spiritual, coupled with a complete and devastating independence once his mind was made up. His life, too, was full of attractive incident; he was a lover of all God’s handiwork, not animals alone, but hills, streams, and the fruits of the soil; he had a picturesque habit of dramatizing his thoughts or his resolutions, and of acting as well as enunciating his rebukes. His death, when it came, offers us a perfect picture at once utterly human and unspeakably sacred, an almost unique combination, closing in a truly great life, at once so homely as to repel none, so sublime as to inspire all.

Only a very little of all this can, I am afraid, be presented to readers in the few following pages; but even so, I would ask them to bear in mind from the outset that there comes a moment in the saint’s life which discloses for us once for all the secret of it, an inward force which integrates his whole career and harmonizes every aspect of it. If this is unperceived, then the whole life of Francis appears-as to many it still continues to do-bereft of all real significance beyond the trifling and the sentimental, and his real message remains unread.

THE DAWN

FRANCIS was born about the year 1181. His father, Pietro Bernardone, was in a substantial way of business as a dealer in cloth. From time to time he journeyed as far as the south of France to attend the markets there, and it is thought that it may have been on one such occasion that he met with Pica, the woman destined to be the mother of Francis. In any case she it was whom Bernardone made his wife, and brought back to his home at Assisi. In due course a son was born, and christened John; but his father was away in France at the time, and, on his return, delightedly called his son Francesco, the name by which he has been known ever since. Pietro Bernardone must have been a radiantly happy man on that day when he crossed the threshold of his house and caught up from out his young wife’s arms his little baby boy, his first-born son, and kissed him and called him his very own Francesco. Things were to go ill with him later on, so let us spare this one glance for him as the centre of a happy home, cheerful and kindly. The anger and misery that we know are to come to him, and all-he was to think-his own son’s doing, are a measure of the love he bore him now, and of his hopes and happiness.

BOYHOOD

Francis followed the usual course of schooling of the children of the town. He learnt his letters from the clergy of St George’s, the church in which he had been baptized. He learnt French as well, probably from his mother; and, later on, would sing the songs of the Troubadours, those singing poets, as they have been called, who came over from Provence into Italy and awoke the echoes on hillside and street and tavern with their songs of youth and chivalry, of endurance and love; and besides French there was Latin. Francis was not educated in the technical sense of the word; indeed, to his own contemporaries he was illiterates, he had no academic status of any kind; but if education means a training in the perception of values, and in the development of powers of intense appreciation of them, educated he certainly was; and perhaps his home life and his mother had as much to do with it as his school.

IN BUSINESS

In due course Francis began to take his share in his father’s business. A certain amount of retail work appears to have been carried on from the house itself, and sometimes Francis would be left in sole charge. He must have been a delightful young man to do business with, interested in everything under the sun except money; one of those people for whom money is nothing as long as they have plenty of it; and Francis had plenty of it, and was the soul, if not yet of true generosity, at least of great kindliness. Out of office hours, so to speak, he moved in the gayest society Assisi could offer, dressed marvellously, dined sumptuously, and was generally extravagant all round: and his father-provident man of business though he was-was secretly proud of it all and was, in fact, as extravagant in his hopes as his son in his spending. His mother meanwhile looked quietly on, and thought’ differently: Francis would be great, no doubt-she once confided to a friend-but not in the way his father fancied.

A PRISONER OF WAR

Soon a great change came: Assisi went to war with Perugia. In those days war was not conducted in the grand manner to which we have become accustomed since; it was more after the nature of those raids and forays of which we read in old Border history; but it made widows and orphans all the same-and prisoners of war. Francis, about twenty-one years of age by now, had joined in, of course; but the day went against Assisi, and before long he found himself with several others immured in a fortress. His captivity seems to have lasted quite a long time, as much, perhaps, as two years.

A characteristic incident occurred during it. Among the prisoners was one whose sullen manners and depressed spirits had driven the others to leave him severely alone. Francis, despite many rebuffs, never rested till by his tact and unremitting kindness he had got the poor man into a happier frame of mind and induced him to join the rest.

HOME AGAIN

On the suspension of hostilities, he returned to Assisi and soon afterwards fell seriously ill. Details of the nature of the sickness are lacking; possibly it was some legacy due to the long months of confinement ; it held him bed-ridden for some time and left him very weak. At last he was able to get up, and then to walk about again, up and down his room at first, then here and there about the house, finally outside. He was so anxious to view again that beautiful countryside, which no visitor to Assisi can ever forget. Slowly and with the aid of a stick, but quite alone, he made his way out to some spot whence field and vineyard and distant hills lay before his gaze. He looked-and knew at once he was changed. The beauty of God’s handiwork filled his sight as of old, but his soul was empty. Never before had he felt so deep a void in his life; and as yet he did not understand that this was really the first dim breaking light of a great spiritual dawn.

BACK TO THE WARS

In course of time his strength returned, and with it something of his natural buoyancy and good spirits. But he was restless, and when a chance of change came he welcomed it. This time it was a military expedition in Apulia under the famous Walter of Brienne, and sponsored by the Papacy. Francis equipped himself for his journey in the most up-to-date and lavish fashion, and rode away followed by the proud gaze of his father and the wiser hopefulness of his mother. She at least was not saddened, nor much surprised, when a day or so later he returned quietly without any show at all. What had happened? Two things-a splendid act of kindness on the part of Francis and one more touch of divine pressure upon his soul. It appears that as he rode southwards to join the war, he fell in with another, a nobleman bent on the same errand as himself. As they talked together, Francis began to feel secretly uneasy at contrasting the brilliance of his own equipment with the threadbare state of that of his companion. At last a resolution shaped itself in his mind; would his companion, he suggested, honour him by allowing an exchange? One likes to think there was some hesitation on one side, and some need of insistence on the other; but, anyway, a partial exchange was ultimately agreed to and carried out. That night, at the first halting-place of their journey, Francis had a vision. He seemed to be in a hall full of arms, armour, saddles, and equipment of every sort, and presiding over it all a beautiful maiden. This pleased him immensely, as it seemed to presage military fame and leadership and a distinguished bride; but later, as the glory faded, he seemed to hear a voice questioning him: ‘ Who can do most for you, servant or master?’ He answered: ‘ The master.’ ‘ Why, then,’ continued the voice, ‘ do you follow the servant rather than the master?’ Whatever the ultimate significance, the immediate meaning was clear. Francis changed all his plans and returned to Assisi.

THE QUEST

BACK in his native town, Francis was still quite uncertain as to what he was to do with his life. He discovered in himself a longing for solitude and for prayer. He did not break at once with the companions he had known before they themselves saw to that-but he was not quite the same Francis they had known of old, and when they rallied him on his preoccupied manner and declared he must be in love, he gaily told them they were right and that never a wiser or more beautiful bride existed anywhere than his. His mind was turning towards the bride pure and undefiled, as St James puts it, of religion, of the service of God.

AN EARLY FRIEND

How much one would like to know more of that one companion who in these days showed himself so devoted to Francis. He was of the same age as himself, and absolutely in his confidence. They would go for long walks together; and then, when Francis would be absolutely alone, this friend would wait quietly for him till his prayer and spiritual travail were for the moment done. But this was clearly a time of great inward stress for Francis. If, on occasion, he would speak of a great treasure within his grasp, there were many when he appeared to his friend utterly worn out. The idea of absolute renunciation was probably taking shape in his mind. He once went as far as Rome and stood before the doors of St Peter’s in borrowed rags of clothing, and begged for alms with the rest just to see what it all felt like. Much wiser and exploring deeper recesses of his soul was his gesture of love when meeting a leper in the open plain, he leapt off his horse, placed alms in the sufferer’s hands and kissed him. The former was picturesque and, in modified form, has often been repeated; the latter appears seldom and only in the annals of real sanctity.

THE VOICE FROM THE CROSS

In time events moved more rapidly. On the outskirts of Assisi-as every visitor knows-are found the Church and Convent of St Damian. In the days of Francis it was a poor, ruinous little chapel, with a room or two adjoining for the priest. Francis was praying there one day before the crucifix when, as from the very figure of Christ depicted there upon the wood, a voice spoke to him: “Go; Francis, repair My church, which, as you see, falls in ruin.” Francis does not seem to have been the least disconcerted: he was hungering for guidance and listening for it everywhere. He took this message quite literally : St Damian’s must be put right: one step enough for me: if the kindly light pointed but to that, he was content. Hurrying home, he seized a bale of fine scarlet cloth, saddled and mounted his horse and rode off to a market at Foligno. Here he effected the sale of the cloth, and of the horse and the harness as well. Then, with a substantial sum of money on his person, he started on the long walk back. He came at last to St Damian’s, offered everything to the astonished priest and begged leave to stay with him. The good priest refused the money, and it was left for the time being on the window-sill, but he knew Francis well and allowed him such poor hospitality as his house afforded. It was not long before Pietro Bernardone got wind of these fantastic doings, and, in high dudgeon, came down to seek his son. Francis fled; and Pietro, baffled and very angry, had to return home empty-handed.

TROUBLE IN THE HOME

After an interval of some weeks, Francis returned to the priest’s house. But he would not be a burden upon another’s poverty, kindly and welcoming though the good priest was. He must maintain himself in some fashion, he thought: and so he walked up one day, into Assisi and started to beg alms in real earnest from his astonished fellow-citizens. All knew him and some were kind, but many mocked him. A little later Bernardone heard some mild sort of tumult going on near his house. He must have guessed and feared what was afoot. He hastened out, and there was the lost idol of his dreams, gaunt, ill-kempt, a butt for the ribaldry of a crowd of urchins. He seized Francis, dragged him back into his home, beat him mercilessly and locked him up in a cellar. But he was due for a business journey almost immediately: and nothing must interfere with that; so, with many injunctions to Pica, he left Assisi. Mother and son in the same house together, but even Bernardone should have foreseen as inevitable what actually happened next. Pica went in to Francis, spoke lovingly to him, argued with him no doubt, as in duty bound, urging him to be sensible, knowing all the while that he knew she never expected, hardly even hoped that he would give in. She left him at liberty; they kissed and parted.

IN THE BISHOP’S COURT

Francis went back to St Damian’s and resumed his old life. Then, of course, his father returned and learnt from Pica all that had happened and of the way his son was living. Angered beyond measure, he made his way down to the priest’s house. Francis stood his ground and faced him. Argument and bullying were alike of no avail; but Bernardone-in however bad the cause-had something of the determination of his eldest son. He went straight off to the civil courts and laid a summons against Francis with a view to charging him with theft and to disinheriting him altogether. When the summons arrived, Francis refused to obey it: He alleged that, as a man who had already left the world, he was no longer subject to the civic authorities, the city consuls, arid he appealed to the Bishop. The consuls were most unwilling to press their rights, and to Bernardone it was all one who settled the case for him; but settled it should be; he was determined on that. The Bishop at the time was Guido, already a friend to Francis and to remain so all his life. When the case came on it aroused much interest, so well known to everyone were the two principal parties, and so unusual the nature of the dispute. The Bishop ruled that the money in question, lying till now on the window ledge at St Damian’s, must be restored to Bernardone, for, however pious the uses to which Francis would put it, it was not his to dispose of. Hearing this, Francis, in a flash of intense exhilaration and before anyone could intervene, stripped off all his clothes, arranged them in a heap, laid the money on top and then addressed the bystanders: “Listen, all of you, and understand this,” he exclaimed, “Till now I have called Pietro Bernardone my father; but my purpose is to serve God, so I here hand over to him the money he is troubled about, and the clothes I had of him; and now I say: Our Father who art in heaven: not Father Pietro Bernardone.”

AN INTERLUDE

Francis was not angry with anyone, least of all with his father: he was rejoicing in a sense of new-found liberty, and longed to be friends with all : but for Bernardone it was a hard moment: he gathered up the clothes and money and left the court. Meanwhile, some sort of rough garment was procured for Francis, who then went back to St Damian’s, and in a day or so moved right away from Assisi. Did he ever mean to come back? Perhaps, now the money had gone, he felt he could do no more for the little church, and wished to sever himself once for all from his native surroundings. For a few days he stayed in a Benedictine monastery, where he was employed in the kitchen: then he went on to Gubbio and was hospitably received by a friend there. This friend gave Francis a recognized sort of hermit’s dress, a tunic, girdle and staff and shoes; possibly also some advice, for, thus equipped, Francis soon returned to St Damian’s. There may have been no money, but the little church must still be repaired, and Francis set about begging stones and oil for the lamps and much else that was needed. This begging was a much more familiar feature in the Italy of the days of Francis than it would be in England today; but still it was not always easy. Here, for example, was a familiar house, full of the companions he knew well; he could hear them singing as he stood in the street outside: he could not enter and beg there: but he forced himself to it, and did.

But if the quest was sometimes hard for Francis, it was a constant irritant to his father, who cursed him whenever he met him. The counter-measure adopted by Francis has become famous: he got a simple fellow, a beggar like himself, to accompany him on his rounds, and should his father appear he was to cap his curse with a blessing. Then there was a younger brother-one bitter cold day, kneeling in church behind Francis, who, in his scanty coverings, was shivering with the cold, he whispered audibly to his neighbour: “Ask Francis to sell you a pen’orth of his sweat.’ But Francis was a match for him. Turning round, he said with a happy smile: “Oh, but I sell it much more profitably to my Lord.’ But whatever his brother thought, we ourselves must not be misled by his gaiety. Francis as his whole life shows, was of an intensely affectionate nature, and it would be a misreading of his character to fancy his heart was steeled in these early days against this separation from those he loved, his mother especially; or that he was indifferent to their antagonism. It was all real grief to him.

For perhaps as long as two years this sort of life-not unfamiliar in the Middle Ages-was led by Francis. When St Damian’s was repaired, he started on another church, he spent much of his time, too, helping to serve the lepers: and lodged often enough in the settlements assigned to them. Then a third church caught his eye and heart: it too needed much repair work. It lay in a wood in the plain below Assisi; it was called St Mary of the Angels. It was in this little chapel, set to its right use again, that one morning at Mass there came to Francis the light he had so long been praying for.

THE TASK

EARLY In the year 1208, Francis-now about twenty-seven years of age-was hearing Mass in the little Chapel of St Mary of the Angels, when suddenly the mist in his soul lifted and he saw his way clear before him. It was the Gospel that impressed him so forcibly, the story of the sending out of the Twelve Apostles to preach, the independence of all material resources which Our Lord then inculcated, and the message of penance and peace they were to carry abroad. When Mass was over, Francis consulted the priest to make sure he had caught the Gospel meaning aright, and then exclaimed joyfully: ‘This is the way of life for me.’ Forthwith he put off his shoes, replaced his leather girdle with a cord, tossed aside his staff, and began his life’s work. We are inclined to wonder how it was all done, but we should remember that the dawn of the thirteenth century was like the end of a long winter. Everywhere new life, new hopes, ill-defined anticipations, a new range of scholarship even, were springing into movement. Much of it all would be still-born, much would flourish for a brief day and go out, but here and there, would be small beginnings destined to strike deep roots, stretch out wide arms, traverse the centuries, survive. Such was the movement born in the heart of Francis that spring morning seven centuries ago.

THE FIRST DISCIPLES

His first sermons were delivered in the Church of St George. His appeal now, and all his life long, was for peace. Violent class struggles, symptomatic of the age, had arisen in Assisi; and he was bent on calming them. But wider still was his love of God. The Gospel he had listened to that morning with such new wonderment as though hearing it for the first time had made him aware, as never before, of his intense love of God and of God’s Church.

To Francis, God was made visible in Jesus Christ, and the work of Jesus Christ was made actual in His Church. Here he differed from others of his time-sincere men, no doubt-who sought to rejuvenate Christian society, but who failed to see that to build apart from the Church is to build for a day: perpetuity is her mark and, where she will, her gift; it was hers to Francis. So it came about that in an incredibly short space of time, Francis found himself the centre of a little group of followers: Bernard, a man of business, Peter, a priest and Canon of the Cathedral Church of Assisi, Giles, of the Golden Sayings, Philip, the tall, and many others. When their numbers reached eight, Francis sent them out two and two to preach; it was only a beginning, but even so, France and Spain were both reached: then almost miraculously it seemed-they all reassembled together at Assisi. Not that they had any settled home as yet: an outhouse or barn would serve them for the time being: but for Francis something of incomparably greater importance was now to be secured.

ROME APPROVES

His disciples now numbered twelve: before anything else was attempted, they must go to the Father of all Christendom and get his approbation and his blessing on their work. To Rome, then, they all went; and Francis wrote out a little Rule, or Way of Life, as he called it, for the Holy Father to read and approve if he would. At Rome they were very fortunate in meeting their good friend, Bishop Guido. He was afraid, at first, that they were abandoning his diocese: but being reassured about that, he introduced them all to Cardinal John Colonna, Bishop of Sabina. The Cardinal, himself a monk of the monastery of St Paul-outside-the-walls, had a bong talk with Francis, exploring his purposes. He soon satisfied himself that here was no ordinary character, to be quietly side-tracked into some monastery, so clear was Francis as to the path he hoped to tread, so gentle yet so firm in his refusals to deviate from it. With such friends behind him, it is not surprising that when the time came for their audience Pope Innocent III received Francis and his companions very kindly. He approved of their Rule and enterprise, encouraged them to persevere, authorized them to preach, and gave each one the tonsure, thereby admitting them to the clerical state.

Never did a happier group of friars walk out together from Rome than did Francis and his twelve companions in that summer of the year 1209. Everyone and everything smiled upon them: their needs were met without asking, and when they came to the beautiful valley of Spoleto they lingered on day after day, loath to leave it. But no; Francis knew it was to no such quiet and even life of prayer and seclusion to which he was called-though frequently enough the old longing would return-but to a life of movement, seeking to rekindle everywhere the fire of the love of God. The little party returned, then, to Assisi. And now there was no mistaking the feeling of his fellow-citizens. Crowds of men and women, young and old, of every section of its society, flocked to hear him. After a brief sojourn in a few rude huts at Rivo Torto, the ever-growing Franciscan family took over the little Church of St Mary of the Angels. The Benedictines whose property it was allowed the friars also the use of a few modest buildings and of the adjacent land, in consideration of an annual token rent of a basket of fish: on no other conditions would Francis agree to hold it. Yet with what tenacity of love did Francis cling to that sanctuary of St Mary’s: it was the cradle of his order, the fratres minores, as he would have them called, and it was to this same convent he would come back to die.

A GROWING APOSTOLATE

But in these years the new movement, so tiny in its origins, yet so confident in its knowledge of Papal approbation, began to surge forward apace. Its young leader, twenty-eight years of age, was in the full vigour of his powers. He preached in all the surrounding districts, Perugia and Tuscany as well as Assisi, and always with the same disarming simplicity and earnestness. As a rule, he went forth and spoke from the fullness of his heart, quite heedless of the number of his listeners. Sometimes he prepared a sermon, but often enough, when it came to the point, he was obliged to confess that he had forgotten all he had prepared, and then straightway would speak with immense vigour just as the spirit moved him.

SAINT CLARE

Among the many won over by Francis to the total consecration of their lives to God must be mentioned Clare and her sister Agnes. In 1212 St Damian’s was ready for them, and Francis joyfully installed them there with the other devout souls who had come to join them. Long before, as he toiled at the restoration of that little church, he had foretold the noble purpose this convent was to fulfil.

MISSIONARY BEGINNINGS

And now he turned to another work, at first sight of a very different sort. This same year was to mark the first tiny beginnings of that huge missionary movement which, by the end of the century, was destined to reach as far as the Indies and Pekin. The aim of Francis was Syria, but the ship in which he and his companion were sailing was driven on to the coast of Dalmatia. No other ship being available in which to continue their journey, there was nothing for it but to return. This they succeeded in doing; not, however, without some difficulty as, being without passage-money, they had to get aboard surreptitiously. All ended well; as, when food ran short, the friars made their appearance with such an abundance, supplied by a friend ashore, as to satisfy everybody and placate the ship’s master.

The next scheme of Francis was an endeavour to reach Morocco, and to convert the Mohammedans there. Having failed on the eastern side, he would assault the western end of their great North African crescent. But this time sickness prevented him from getting any farther than Spain; whence he returned, yet again with hopes disappointed, to Italy. But they were far from being in vain, these unfulfilled ventures of Francis; they were the first stirrings of a new springtime. Since the early centuries which witnessed the consolidation of a Christian Europe, from the isles of the north-west to the Slavonic countries in the east, the idea of missions in the far lands beyond the borders of Christendom had lain dormant in the Church till Francis kindled anew the fires of apostolic zeal.

COUNCIL OF THE LATERAN

In 1215 a General Council of the Church-the fourth Council of the Lateran-was summoned to meet in Rome. Francis was certainly in Rome on this occasion and attended some of the meetings. The purpose of the Council was to organize a new Crusade for the recovery of the Holy Places, to foster the revival of Catholic life, especially by means of preaching and by the observance, as a minimum duty, of the newly issued precept of Easter Communion, to close up the ranks of the Church Militant by forbidding any further dispersal of energy in the way of new brotherhoods or orders. These, though matters of great moment, did not directly affect Francis. His own Rule, even with its “privilege” of poverty, i.e., the rejection of endowments and of all use of money, was regarded as already in possession before the Council met; and there was no question of merging his religious family with any other.

But the immense significance of the Council for Francis and, indeed, for many others, lay not in the detail of its decrees, but in the fact that it constituted an appeal from the very master of Christ’s Church on earth, to a world-wide renewal of the ideals of Christian righteousness, to the love of God, and to zeal in His cause. Such an appeal from such a source went straight to the heart of Francis, and more than ever confirmed him in his way of life. It was at Rome on this occasion that Francis first met and embraced St Dominic. As time went on, their mutual regard for one another grew apace: each saw in the other a man wholly aflame with zeal for the spread of the Kingdom of God, and no link clasps souls together more closely than that. Two years later they met in Rome again under the hospitable roof of one who had come to be a great and powerful friend to both, Cardinal Ugolino. Before parting, Dominic begged from Francis his cord. Francis, so ready as a rule to give away anything he was asked for, on this occasion hesitated; he felt the immense reverence and esteem that lay behind the request, but he yielded at last in true humility before the affection of his friend, and gave up his cord. Dominic girded himself with it at once.

THE PORTIUNCULA

Pope Innocent III died at Perugia-with Francis at his side-in the July of the year following the Council. He was succeeded in a few days by Honorius III. Back once more at St Mary of the Angels, Francis was praying one morning early in the little church when he had a vision. Christ appeared to him; bade him seek out the new Pope and beg a plenary indulgence for all who, contrite and having confessed their sins, should visit St Mary’s. That same morning, with Brother Masseo accompanying him, Francis set out for Perugia, and quite simply put his request before the Pope. Honorius granted it readily, thereby suddenly raising the little church almost to the same level as the tomb of the Apostles at Rome, the Holy Places in Palestine, or St James of Compostela in Spain. In deference, however, to many expostulations from high quarters, the Pope limited the privilege to one day each year, the day already fixed, viz., August 2nd, for the consecration of the church. But what an outstanding power Francis, all unbeknown to himself, had become that he could thus circulate in the Papal Court, ask for and obtain the most amazing concessions, and undo, without giving the matter a thought, the counsels of his adversaries. On August 2nd, 1216, St Mary of the Angels was consecrated. Several bishops were present, and Francis preached in the open to the assembled crowds and announced the new indulgence-known universally now as the Indulgence of the Portiuncula, or Little Portion, the pet name in Francis’s day for St Mary of the Angels. .

All the while the numbers of the brethren were increasing rapidly, and in 1217 the first Chapter of the order was held. The beginnings of close organization are apparent in the delineation of separate provinces, with provincial superiors to rule them. After the Chapter missioners were despatched to various countries, though not outside Europe. Francis himself was persuaded to remain in Italy, where, as guide of the young fraternity, he would be within reach of many of the newcomers to inspire them with his ideals, and at the same time in close contact with such leaders of the Church as Cardinal Ugolino. When, three years later, a second Chapter was summoned to Assisi, it was presided over by the Cardinal himself, and no less than five thousand brethren assembled at it. This time Francis secured the appointment of two Vicars who were to govern the Order in his absence, for he was himself determined to share in the missionary work to which he felt his friars were preeminently called. One party started out on the old trail through Spain to Morocco. He himself with thirteen others sailed for the East. They reached Acre, a stronghold of the Christian forces in Palestine, and thence sailed down to Egypt and joined the Crusaders’ army outside Damietta. What followed is best related in the words of one of the Crusaders themselves, James de Vitry.

IN SYRIA

“We saw the founder and head of this Order whom all the others obey as their Prior, a simple and ignorant man, but loved of God and men, by name Brother Francis. To such a degree of exaltation and fervour of spirit was he seized that when he had come to the Christian army outside Damietta in Egypt he reached the camp of the Soldan of Egypt himself, so bold was he and so fortified with the shield of faith. When the Saracens captured him on the road, he said. “I am a Christian: lead me to your Lord.” And when they had dragged him before the Soldan, the cruel beast was turned to gentleness by the expression on the face of the man of God, so that for several days he listened most attentively to his preaching to them the faith of Christ. At length, fearing lest some of his people should be converted to the Lord by the power of his words, and so go over to the Christian army, he ordered him, with all reverence and with every safeguard, to return to our camp, saying to him at the last: “Pray for me that God may reveal to me that law and that faith which is to him most pleasing.”‘ *

This incident is so picturesque in itself and has inspired so many artists that its deeper significance is apt to be overlooked. It was the death-blow to the Crusades, those efforts to force the issue by armed power; and the dawn of that new wisdom which knows-however slow men are to apply that knowledge-that evil can only be really cured, not by counter-violence, but by good.

THE RULE

Leaving a group of friars behind him to maintain the Christian life in Syria as best they might, Francis, with Brothers Elias and Peter in his company, returned in the early autumn of 1220 to Italy. He had been absent for quite twelve months at least, and things had not gone too well whilst he had been away. As an Order the Franciscans were still very young, and a variety of currents was eddying about, each striving to assert itself over the others. Some were for solitude, some for the towns; some were for the life of retirement, some for preaching everywhere; some were all against study, some anxious to throw themselves into the teeming intellectual life bursting into vigour around them. Francis replaced the two Vicars by one, choosing Brother Peter for that office; and meanwhile he busied himself with drawing up a more detailed and formal Rule for his religious family. This was no easy task, and there must have been much drafting and redrafting of texts. In 1221 a complete Rule was drawn up; but it soon became evident to Francis that it would not succeed in doing what he hoped, and what every Rule should do, namely, unite his great family together more and more closely; and so, with his good friend Cardinal Ugolino to help him, he drew up another. In 1223 this was ready; and it was submitted to the Holy See and definitively approved by Pope Honorius III, and has remained the Rule of the Order ever since.

But we must not imagine that all this time Francis was doing nothing else but worrying over Rules and administration. The old enthusiasms never waned; and in fact when Elias, a great administrator, succeeded Brother Peter as Vicar in March, 1221, Francis was freer than for many years past to devote himself to his life of prayer and preaching. There is a delightful picture of him, at the Chapter which met in the summer of that same year, sitting quietly at the feet of Brother Elias, who presided, and letting him do all the work; only intervening towards the end by reminding his Vicar that the mission to Germany, which had been tried already and proved abortive, must certainly be tried again; and it was.

AT BOLOGNA

In 1222 we find Francis at Bologna. The house of the friars had been founded in that city while Francis was away in Syria. On his first visit, after his return, someone inadvertently spoke of it to him as your house. Francis immediately turned all the brethren out of it, including some who were sick, so disgusted was he at the idea of his friars being regarded as the owners. Only when the civic authorities protested that the house was their property, which they were allowing the friars to use, could he be prevailed on to allow them to re-enter. Now, in the summer of 1222, he came back to Bologna to give it in return of his best and what it sorely needed-peace within its walls. Here is a contemporary picture again, and very vivid: it was written by Thomas of Spalato:

“In the same year, on the day of the Assumption of the Mother of God, when I was a student at Bologna, I saw St Francis preaching in the piazza before the Palazzo Publico, where almost the whole town was assembled. The theme of his sermon was “Angels, Men, Devils”: and he spoke so well and so wisely of these three rational spirits that to many learned men who were there the sermon of this ignorant man seemed worthy of no little admiration, in spite of the fact that he did not keep to the method of an expositor so much as of an extempore speaker. Indeed the whole manner of his speech was calculated to stamp out enmities and to make peace. His tunic was dirty, his person unprepossessing, and his face far from handsome; yet God gave such power to his words that many factions of the nobility, among whom the fierce anger of ancient feuds had been raging with much bloodshed, were brought to reconciliation. Towards him, indeed, the reverence and devotion of men was so great that men and women rushed upon him headlong, anxious to touch the hem of *. See Moorman, Sources for the Life of St Francis, p. 56. his garment and to carry away bits of his clothing.”*

CHRISTMAS AT GRECCIO

Such was Francis amidst the crowds. Now let us see him on the hillsides. The season of Christmas was approaching and Francis was staying in the little convent of Greccio perched high up on the side of precipitous slopes overlooking the valley of Rieti. As the great feast drew near, he found it more and more difficult to keep his intense love of Jesus to himself: he needed an outlet. Like the martyrpoet three centuries later, he felt keenly the Burning Babe’s lament, “Yet none approach to warm their hearts or feel my fire but I”; and he determined that this time at least he would gather as many as he could to warm their hearts by the fire of Christ’s love. He had a good friend in the district to help him in his plans, a cave in the hillside was selected, and by Christmas Eve all was ready. How wonderful it looked to the peasant folk who climbed the steep slope and gathered in and around the cave. An altar had been set up, candles burned brightly in the darkness, and a real ox and ass had been allowed pride of place near the manger, wherein was laid the figure of the Child. At midnight the sacred ministers pressed their way through the crowds, stood at the altar and the Mass began. Francis was the deacon, and after he had sung the Christmas Gospel in a rich, strong voice that floated down into the valley, he preached the sermon. It was, of course, on the love of Jesus for man, and every time he pronounced the Holy Name Francis lingered on it as though savouring some delicious sweet; and to many it seemed as though the little figure, lying so still in the manger, woke as from a sleep to life. That Jesus might live in the hearts of men, as He lived in his own, was ever the hope of Francis; and that Infant stirring in the straw is the perfect symbol of his apostolate, and the perfect summary of his message. That delivered, and his real task was done.

THE END

THAT Christmas at Greccio was probably the Christmas of 1223. Francis was forty-two years old, and it almost comes as a shock to realize that he had only three more years to live. He was still active enough and often on the move from place to place, but his physical vitality was beginning to decline. It is to this we probably owe the few writings of St Francis that we have. Apart from the Rule and the Testament, it was chiefly to reach those to whom he was unable to come at the time that Francis put his pen to paper. We have his Admonitions, probably addressed to Chapter gatherings, and some Letters, mainly of the kind meant to be circulated amongst the houses of his Order.

LOVE OF THE EUCHARIST

Here it must suffice to note with what intensity of ardour Francis, in these letters, presses upon his priests, his lay brethren, and the faithful in general, devotion to the Mass and the Holy Eucharist. It was his deep love of the Blessed Sacrament that lay behind his toil in lifting up from decay one after another of the little churches round Assisi. He would often, on his travels, set to and sweep out the dust in some ill-kempt country chapel: he loved to see the altar linen clean and tidy, and helped to provide poor churches with both linen and altar vessels; for every priest, whatever his reputation, he had the deepest and most sincere respect. All this was but the outward mark of the faith he valued so highly and to which he would draw all others if he could.

Side by side with his love of the Eucharist was a devotion to the Passion of Our Lord. There was nothing sombre or depressing in his thoughts on the sufferings of Christ. He was well aware of the weight of evil that caused them, and of what to him seemed his own contribution thereto; but at the same time he could not help being overwhelmed and overjoyed at the memory of the love that chose the Passion and of the immensity of grace and hope and glory it had brought back to men.

LA VERNA

These mysteries of love and suffering must have been much in the mind of Francis during the late summer of the year *Moorman op. cit p. 56.

1224. He was spending his days in prayer and solitude on the famous mountain in Tuscany, la Verna. The Order he had founded was spreading everywhere, riding high on the crest of the wave of Papal encouragement and guidance. Learned men and men of great administrative qualities were joining it in large numbers and from every country. The vision had indeed come true which Francis had had long ago, and which he had related to his first followers to encourage them, telling them how he had seen the roads leading to St Mary of the Angels thick with men of every race, French and English and Spaniards, hurrying to enrol themselves as his sons. That very year 1224, Francis had sent Brother Agnellus from Paris to establish the friars in England; and almost as soon as they landed, some sure instinct as to their vocation sent them at once to the large cities and the university towns. Francis felt that powers greater than his own were moulding the new Order to purposes more varied and on a wider scale than ever he had foreseen. Now on la Verna he would be quite alone. The whole mountainside had been presented to the friars by a great friend and benefactor, a certain Lord Orlando. A tiny dwelling place for a few brothers had been built, but Francis withdrew even from that, and established himself in a little cell on the far side of a deep ravine, and only accessible by a plank bridge. Brother Leo, so dear and loyal a friend, was to come every evening with a little food, and at midnight to say Matins with him. It was almost like the’ old life again, when Francis had tramped over the wild hills north of Assisi with his one solitary companion, and then left even him so as to be alone and pray. But now the search was done and the treasure had been found, and Francis was at peace-the peace of perfect self-surrender before God’s holy will.

THE STIGMATA

Yet would God set a seal upon His servant, a seal at once searing and glorious, which would mark him out for all time as Christ’s very perfect follower. A day or so after the feast of the Exaltation of the Holy Cross the great vision was vouchsafed to Francis. The figure of Christ on the Cross, yet in glory ineffable, appeared to him: two wings folded above Christ’s head, two outspread in flight, two gathered around His limbs. As the Figure approached, intense sorrow, intense joy passed and repassed in the soul of Francis: then came the hidden colloquy none but he could know, nor with any other share. When the vision had left him and all was still again and himself once more alone, Francis found that the wounds of Christ’s Passion were his. In hands and feet and side he saw them and felt the pain of them; hands and feet as though nails had been struck through them, his side as though a lance had pierced it: Christ’s seal.

At the end of September Francis bade farewell to the friars on La Verna, and to his friend, the Lord Orlando, and moved away into Umbria towards the old home, St Mary of the Angels. He could only walk now with great difficulty, and all his travelling must be made on a donkey. Despite this, however, he seemed full of energy, and embarked almost at once upon a new apostolic journey.

But it was not to be for long; his strength soon waned, and his sight was failing rapidly. Everything that the devoted care of Brother Elias and the skill of doctors could do was tried, but without avail. Clare was full of solicitude. It was in the garden of St Damian’s, in a little hut there, that Francis, during a sleepless and tormented night, composed his famous Canticle of Brother Sun, and when morning came got pen and ink and paper, and dictated it to one of the brothers. Before leaving, he told Clare she would see his face once more. She did, for when they were carrying the lifeless body of Francis back into Assisi to lay it in the Church of St George, the bearers went by way of St Damian’s that Clare and her daughters might look for the last time upon the features of their beloved father. It is like St Francis that in these last years of his life he wrote his Canticle, breathing joy and gratitude in every line, and also his Testament, his last message to his children, a quite different thing-in fact, a most moving document, full of a strange mingling of sternness and gentleness, of discouragement and of hope.

LAST DAYS

And now the autumn has come of the year 1226. After a long journey as far north as Siena, where a famous physician had been consulted, Francis had made his last journey home, over the familiar ways, through the familiar towns, Cortona and Gubbio, Gualdo and Nocera, back to Assisi. He was taken to the palace of good Bishop Guido, for the civil authorities feared for his safety in the lonely little convent below the town: there was no knowing what the Perugians might be at, and they would have loved to have Francis in their city. Meanwhile, Francis was showing all around him how beautiful a thing is death. He was so joyous about it that he would add another stanza to his Canticle in praise of this new sister. How often he had said: “Brothers, till now we have done but little: come, let us begin”; and for him the end was truly a beginning. But for his brethren, for those especially who had been with him in the early days, his death could be nothing less than an end; his passing a great sorrow. When death seemed near, Francis, lying in bed, crossed his arms and laid them one on the head of his first companion, Brother Bernard, one on the head of his Vicar, Brother Elias, kneeling by the bedside, and blessed them and, through them, all his children.

But still Sister Death tarried in her coming, and the sick man rallied a little, and Brother Elias obtained the necessary permission to carry the dying saint to the home he had so loved and wished to die in, St Mary of the Angels. They bore him down into the valley on an open litter; but before the journey was over, Francis bade the bearers lay the litter down turning its head to Assisi, and thus viewing the city of his birth for the last time, he blessed it. Arrived at St Mary of th e Angels, another most unexpected and most welcome visitor made her appearance. This was a certain noble lady of Rome, Giacoma de Settesoli. She had met Francis and sought counsel of him during one of his early visits to Rome, and for many years had been a friend and benefactor to Francis and his brethren. Francis had been on the point of sending a special messenger to ask her to come to visit him and to bring with her all that was needed for his burial, and some special sweet cake as well of which he was very fond and would taste again; but, before the messenger had left, there was the sound of horses’ hoofs and the tramp of many men in the courtyard. It was Giacoma herself, come with a retinue befitting her rank, and with all Francis had asked for, to visit her friend. What a warm welcome he had for her, and how he rejoiced in God’s goodness in thus forestalling his wishes, providing for all his needs, and enabling him to see once more one who had been so devoted to him and his.

When she had left and Francis was alone again with his beloved children, he spoke most gently to them, but bade them lay him habitless on the naked ground, for he knew death was at hand. He had two of the brothers sing to him his Canticle of Brother Sun, and then, almost with his last breath, he recited the 141st Psalm, with its beautiful words, “Lead forth my soul from bondage that I may praise Thy Name: the blessed wait for me till the reward be mine.” He could do no more. He had the Passion of Jesus read to him from the Gospel of St John, and in the reading of it quietly died. It was sunset on October 3rd, and outside in the dusk some late lark was singing.

********

Saint Francis Xavier, S.J

HUGH KELLY, S.J

INDEX

For centuries, in the late middle ages, the spread of Christianity in Asia had been held up by the wide-spread conquests of the Moslem power. The followers of Mahomet were the fanatical enemies of Christianity, in the long wars of the Crusades ; and for centuries they lay across all the land routes to the east. But in the last decade of the fifteenth century two events occurred which allowed the current of Christian missions to flow again. In 1492 Columbus discovered America and in 1497 Vasco da Gama rounded the Cape of Good Hope and thus opened up the sea approaches to the east. These two discoveries threw open to Christian zeal vast fields, white to the harvest, and resulted in a wonderful outburst of missionary activity. The ships which Spain and Portugal sent out to the west and to the east, in addition to their complements of sailors, soldiers, merchants, adventurers, carried zealous and intrepid missionaries.

A LEADER

Francis Xavier is the acknowledged leader of that army. He was the spearhead in the most widespread and sustained missionary effort in the history of Christianity. By his heroic example and his burning letters, he drew the attention of Catholic Europe to the vast multitudes so suddenly revealed as waiting for the good news of the gospel. His courage, zeal and enterprise, have made him the symbol and inspiration of all foreign missionaries. The Holy See created him the patron of foreign missions. His heroic achievement, and his devotion to a high ideal, have been generously recognised even by historians who do not share his faith. His career has been called one of the most heroic efforts of human history.

Francis Xavier belonged to that old, strange, race, the Basques, who even at the beginning of recorded history were already settled on the north and south slopes of the Pyrenees. They were a sturdy, independent, mountain people, with their own very distinctive culture and language and an unshakable attachment to the Catholic Faith. The family of the Xaviers was noble on both sides, and was noted for its traditional loyalty to the Kingdom of Navarre. When that kingdom was being absorbed by the growing power of the united powers of Arragon and Castile, the Xaviers fought gallantly in a losing cause, and, as a result suffered grievously in fortune.

Francis, the youngest of six children, was born on April 7th 1506 at castle Xavier. By his devout mother he was brought up in the purest practices of the Catholic religion. The centre of the life of the family was the castle chapel, where the chaplain and his assistant priests celebrated Mass daily, and a solemn Mass on Sundays and recited the divine office, and where Dona Maria gathered the children about her every evening to say the Rosary before a venerated crucifix, and to sing the Salve Regina. How much the after career of Francis owed to the devotion of his mother! At the age of 18, Francis, a tall dark, active young man set off for the University of Paris. This step was a break with the military traditions of his family. But Francis was sufficiently responsive to the spirit of the age to see that the university and the Church afforded a more brilliant prospect to talent than the army.

VIOLENT CHANGE

The change from the grim castle in Navarre with its wide outlook on the Pyrenees, its simple way of life, its strong Catholic spirit, to the university quarter of Paris was a violent one. The University of Paris was at that time the most celebrated seat of learning in Europe. It consisted of a mass of buildings, academic and ecclesiastic, set in the midst of grimy dwelling houses, separated by narrow noisesome lanes, all huddled on the south bank of the Seine. Here some 6,000 students from all the nations of Europe, speaking a babel of languages, lived, fought or wrangled. All the momentous questions, especially those concerned with religion, were fiercely debated in the inns and classrooms. It was the age of Luther and Calvin and Henry VIII. The dangers to faith and morals were very great, but Francis was preserved from them, partly by his devout Catholic upbringing and also by the prayers of his sister Magdalen, who had been a lady-in-waiting to Queen Isabella of Castile and then entered the conventof the Poor Clare’s at Gandia. She had seen before anyone else the latent promise of her youngest brother.

Francis was very intelligent and made rapid advance in his studies. He was a youth of inexhaustible energy, who soon became known for proficiency in athletics. In character he was attractive and popular. With his personal gifts, supported by his family influence, he was clearly marked out for a distinguished career. But God had other designs on him and brought him in contact with two men who diverted the course of his life. The first of these was Peter Faber, his room-mate, a young man from Savoy who had been a shepherd lad, but had shown such a love for books that he had succeeded, in some way, in getting to Paris to study for the priesthood. He was a most candid soul, with a sweet and loving disposition, who was already blessed with an easy, simple familiarity with God. Francis was much influenced by the sheer goodness and spirituality of his friend; but Faber’s chief service to Francis was to introduce him to Ignatius Loyola.

SURRENDER

The conjunction of these two luminaries was a notable event in Church history. Ignatius was also a Basque and his ancestral castle was not far from that of the Xaviers. He was fifteen years older than Francis and had had a strange career. He was a soldier in the service of the monarchs of Castile and Arragon and in the defence of Pamplons against a French and Navarrese army, had been wounded. In the course of a long and painful convalescence he was completely converted from his worldly and ambitious aims. For a dozen years he had led a life of the greatest austerity, going about dressed as a pilgrim, begging his bread. He was far advanced in the ways of God, and was gifted with a big measure of contemplative prayer. He was fired with the desire to help souls, but it was only very slowly that he came to know definitely what were God’s designs on him. He had come to Paris to study for the priesthood, after a perilous pilgrimage to the Holy Land.

Ignatius discerned at once the latent capability of Francis. He felt that with his intelligence, his energy, his attractive, generous temperament, he could become an outstanding instrument for the salvation of souls. Old soldier that he was, Ignatius set about methodically the siege of Francis, to win him to his own ideas. It was a hard struggle. Ignatius confessed afterwards that Francis was the toughest material he had ever worked on. Francis clung obstinately to his worldly and ambitious dreams, the vision of a brilliant career in the Church which seemed within his grasp. But he at length capitulated to grace and his surrender was complete.

TRANSFORMATION

Ignatius put him through his famous Spiritual Exercises. Francis Xavier is probably the greatest achievement of the Exercises which, as St. Francis de Sales said, within a century after their composition, had converted more souls than they had letters. Ignatius had constituted the Exercises as the entry, the noviceship, to the company that he meant to form ; their purpose was to communicate to others the great love of Christ and souls that was the master passion of his own life. Francis began the Exercises as a worldly man; he finished them a saint, a man entirely dedicated to the service of Christ. After Ignatius himself he may well be said to have grasped more firmly than anyone else the central idea they aimed at conveying. He saw with unwavering conviction that love for Christ meant love for His cause, and that such a love demanded complete sacrifice of self in all its forms, and the willing, even joyous, acceptance of all that a generous apostolic life would entail. His outlook was completely changed. The crowning grace prayed for in the closing contemplation of the Exercises “to love and serve the Divine Majesty in all things “ was given to him in full measure.’

ORDINATION

He was ordained a priest at Venice on June 24th 1537. A brief period of ministry followed, which was a kind of test for his future work, of which he as yet knew nothing and which showed Ignatius that he was not mistaken in his estimate of Francis. In a general way Francis was drawn to the foreign missions, but only according to the first idea of Ignatius, which was to work in the Holy Land for the conversion of the Moslems. But God gave him some premonitions. On one occasion the companion who shared his room heard him cry out in his sleep “ O Jesus how crushed and fatigued I feel.” Next morning he explained that he had dreamt that he was carrying an Indian on his back and that the weight grew so much that it seemed to crush him to the earth.

ASSIGNMENT

The actual appointment to his mission came almost by accident. The king of Portugal wanted some Jesuits to go to the Indies in the merchant fleet that was soon to leave Lisbon. Ignatius appointed two Fathers, but one of them had fallen ill. Francis happened to be in Rome at the moment. Ignatius, who was himself ill, called him, explained the situation and said: “Master Francis here is your enterprise.” Francis replied, “Good; I am ready.” It was a short and simple interview which led to great things. The two friends parted never to meet again in this life. But distance and time only served to increase the love which knit them together. In distant Malucca and Japan Francis would read, on his knees, the letters from Ignatius which had taken a year and a half to reach him. The words in which Ignatius ended his letter, “I shall never forget you; entirely your own-Ignatius,” would move Francis to tears. He carried on all his voyages the signature of Ignatius and a copy of his vow in a reliquary which he hung round his neck.

A SAINT ABOARD

On April 7th 1541, on his thirty-fifth birthday, Francis boarded the flagship of the merchant flotilla at Lisbon. The voyage to India by the Cape of Good Hope was a perilous one and took the best part of a year. The dangers were so many that voyagers were advised to bring a winding sheet with them. The ships were often becalmed on the west coast of Africa, and lay for weeks motionless, under a fierce sun. The water ran short and grew foul. Fever made its appearance and ran through the congested ships and many died. It was so on the occasion of Francis’ voyage. The danger and distress was a call to his devotion. He gave up his cabin to serve as an infirmary. He distributed the food hegot at the Governor’s table to those who needed it; he watched at the bedside of those who tossed in fever or dilirium. He nursed them; he consoled them, heard their confessions and prepared them for death and buried them. He was on friendly terms with the roughest element on board, with the sailors, soldiers, the adventurers who were going to the Indies to make their fortune by fair means or foul. No one could resist the goodness and genuine holiness of Francis. In a short time it was known throughout the fleet that they had a saint aboard. Thirteen months after leaving Lisbon the fleet reached Goa and Francis entered on his life’s work.

CONQUEST OF A CONTINENT

It will help us to get a fair idea of Francis’ career if we set him before a map of east Asia; he is there in his true setting. We get at once an idea of the vast distances he travelled, and of the enormously diverse peoples he had to deal with. His first field of labour was the long west coast of India. Making Goa his headquarters he at once devoted his attention to the Portuguese, who needed his ministrations badly. Then he turned to the natives with extraordinary success. He ranged up and down the immense coast line from Goa to Cape Comorin, and rounding the Cape he went as far north as San Thoma. Perhaps his most enduring work was done in that field; in no place is his memory more faithfully cherished than by the Goanese, among whom his body lies to this day. That vast field would have absorbed the energy and time of any other missionary. For Francis it was but the first step. A successful period in Ceylon was but an interlude. Reports came to him from distant Portuguese stations farther east and at the end of August 1545, he struck across the bay of Bengal to Malacca, two thousand miles away. Malacca was the centre of the Portuguese power in the far east. It was one of the places which the great but ruthless Albuquerque had wrested from the Moslem power in the renewal in Asia of the struggle that had been waged between the Cross and the Crescent for eight centuries on the Iberian peninsula. The Moslem power was widely spread in all the east. The Portuguese were biting into it with a series of strongholds and settlements. The two powers were bitter rivals in trade as in religion.

The passage through the strait of Malacca brought Francis into a new world, a vast ocean studded with islands and archipelagos, with a bewildering variety of peoples, religions, languages. On one extreme was the great empire of China, with a civilization elegant but ineffectual and as old as time. At the other extreme, were the head hunters of Borneo and Moro, where cannibals lurked in impenetrable thickets and jungles. Between these extremes was a wide gradation of cultures. The variety of religions was still greater. Buddhism, Moslemism, Hinduism, Shintoism, were widely spread. Around them and below there was a tropical growth of primitive, degraded, native cults. Almost single handed Francis entered on his great field; but his reputation had crossed the bay of Bengal before him and he was met by a great multitude as he disembarked at Malacca.

Through this immense, bewildering, world Francis moved rapidly and decisively. His entry was momentous. It was at once felt that a new powerful spiritual force was released. He was an indefatigable traveller. The sea was his highway. He was at home on all sorts of craft, Portuguese merchantmen and caravels, fishing vessels, pirate ships, Chinese junks. He was often alone for weeks with pagans on these voyages. He was drawn ever forward by the discovery of new fields that promised a harvest. Portuguese merchants had penetrated into these remote regions “for cloves and souls” as they said. But in the quest for spices, pepper, cloves and nutmegs the souls got second place. Francis went after the souls. Neither distance nor danger could hold him up. The tall, lithe, figure with the thick black hair, rapidly silvering, the decided energetic movements, the dark eyes with their friendly glance, became known in every port from Goa to Japan. His very inexhaustible activity has been made a reproof and he has been called a “saint in a hurry,” a man urged by an inward restlessness, that gave him no time to consolidate his gains, but drove him on to ever new and distant objectives. That criticism is refuted on almost every page of his voluminous correspondence, which testifies to his constant solicitude for the missions he had left behind temporarily. From far away Japan, shivering in flimsy rooms, during an arctic winter, we find him writing detailed instructions and warnings to the priests he had appointed to his settlements. His letters to Europe show the same solicitude, especially those written to St. Ignatius and the king of Portugal. His European letters had a much wider circle of readers and hearers than he dreamed of. They were copied out and sent in all directions and read in religious houses and universities. They were a revelation of a mighty work which was just opened up and was calling urgently for helpers. They were a trumpet call from the new vast mission fields. Francis soon became a heroic, a symbolic figure.

NEW PATHS

But it should also be remembered, in estimating the career of Francis, that he was essentially a pioneer of the pagan missions; that his work was primarily to reconnoitre, to prospect. His true mission was to open up the vast pagan world to the new spirit of zeal, which was one of the chief signs of the spirit of the. counter-reformation, expressed by the council of Trent. There had been Catholic missionaries in the east before Francis embarked at Lisbon. Secular priests, Franciscans, Dominicans, Augustinians and other religious had gone east in Portuguese vessels and were working courageously in scattered mission settlements. But their work for the most part had been done for the Portuguese garrisons and settlements or in a small circle around these. But Francis was the standard bearer of a new movement. He blazed a trail. He had opened up a new era in Catholic pagan missions-the greatest in the history of the Church.

SPARED NO PAIN

The uncritical admiration of early biographers has done Francis a disservice by representing him as being spared the drudgery of missionary work by miraculous favours. For example they say that he had usually the gift of tongues through which he could be understood by a polyglot multitude. In that way they rob him of the merit of his patient efforts to overcome the language difficulty by painful effort. As a matter of fact he took the greatest pains to make the rudiments of the faith known to his hearers. He had the creed, its explanations, and the chief prayers translated into their languages. He toiled at the task of reading his lesson so as to be intelligible. His reading often excited laughter or ridicule. The words in which he was instructed to express the Christian notions were often vague and misleading. But his great sincerity, his manifest holiness, soon bore down all opposition. The results of his preaching were extraordinary. If some of the powers granted to the first preachers of Christianity were too credulously attributed to Francis, certainly the outpouring of grace and the mass conversions that followed his preaching, recall the scenes described in the early chapters of the Acts of the Apostles. Whole villages trooped up to be baptised; and he relates that on occasion his hands fell to his side with the work of baptising, and his voice failed with the frequent repetition of the words. Divine favours were frequent during almost every stage of his missionary life; they were multiplied after his death and burial at Goa!. One of his Jesuit brethren a short time after his death, reports “there are here a number of people who have met him. They have seen him perform things clearly supernatural among the pagans: such things as one reads in the lives of the saints of former times. People in whom full confidence can be placed have come to me and asked why we have not inquired into these things with a view to canonization.”

THE RADIANCE OF CHRIST

It was a sign of his lovableness that he attracted children, and saw in them little apostles, through whom he could have quick access to the parents. He would go through a village ringing a bell; the little ones would troop after this new Pied Piper to the church. For them he put the creed into the form of hymns which the children learned to sing and then taught to the parents. And it came about that these hymns could be heard from the men working in the fields or at their nets on the shore.

Like his Master, Francis associated the care of the sick with his preaching. He was drawn irresistably to the hospitals. Lepers and those suffering from loathsome diseases were sought out. He spent hours at their bedside. He usually stayed at the hospital sleeping on a mat in the wards. There is an abundance of quite trustworthy evidence of his healing powers, of striking sudden cures, brought about by his touch, his prayers, the application of his staff.

But his chief care was always the sinners. Whether they were Portuguese or natives they were the first to get his loving attention. At every stage of his life as a priest, in Venice, Rome, Lisbon, aboard ship, wherever he preached, he devoted a great amount of time to the work of the confessional. Certainly for the Europeans it was a most necessary and fruitful ministry. The conditions in which they lived were a continuous incitement to a sensual and depraved life. Francis soon came to discover that one of the chief obstacles to the conversion of the natives was the example of the Europeans.

ENERGY AND COURAGE

Throughout the vast region in which he worked Francis was soon known as the holy Father. His great sanctity was quickly recognised. He was clearly a man who was possessed by his message; who cared only for one thing, and cared for that supremely, that Christ should be known and served. His natural qualities too excited admiration. He was seen to be a man of indomitable courage. Typhoons, savage peoples, native rulers, whose vices he lashed, the closeness of death in many forms, the prospect of imprisonment or torture worse than death, all these fears he despised. When preparing one of his brethren for the Japanese mission he said “there is nothing you must so fight against as the fear of death. By despising death we manifest our superiority over these proud peoples.” There was another form of courage, rarer than physical courage, the moral courage which will arm a man to denounce the conduct of those in authority. In his letters to the king of Portugal, on the misdemeanour of his servants, he speaks with a freedom and straightness which that monarch did not hear from anyone else. Two other qualities, in high measure, went to make up the rich character of Francis. One was an inexhaustible spring of energy and enterprise which packed his days and even nights with an incredible amount of work. The other not often found along with this, was a marvellous sweetness of disposition, which made him to be loved more even than he was respected.

LOVE AND SERVICE

If we are to understand the secret of his success, we must not leave out the austerity of his life, which added immensely to the force of his spoken word. He lived on the scanty diet of the very poorest, a little fish and rice, never wine or meat. He usually went barefoot on the burning sands. His sleep was a few hours snatched from his work and prayers. A life of such toil and such austerity may well be considered as the greatest of his miracles. There could be only one explanation of a life that seemed to transcend the limits of human powers. That explanation must be sought in his interior spiritual life. He was inspired and sustained by the absorbing love of our Lord Jesus Christ which had been enkindled by the Spiritual Exercises. The rule of charity was uncontested in every sphere of his life. His union with God was continuous and close. His activity did not rob him of the sense of God’s presence. The love and service of God were not two things for him; they led to and supported each other. His whole crowded life was one prayer. His devotion to the Mass was visible to all. He was sometimes seen raised from the ground while he celebrated and often the server had to twitch his vestment to arouse him from the contemplation of the Host. He was often seen in ecstacy. When possible he would spend a great part of the night before the Blessed Sacrament. He was raised to a high degree of contemplative prayer, to the stage described by St. Teresa, in which the soul seems to be divided, so that one part is busy in the work for souls while the other abides in constant union with God. Like his master, Ignatius, Francis was a contemplative in action.

We can well understand how his close constant contact with paganism was an unspeakable distress to such a lover of God. The obscene images, lurking in the dim temples, the foul rites, the gross supersititions, the deceits and vices of the Bonzes, the sacrifices offered to demons or animals, all this filled him with horror. He felt as if he was in a world in which evil spirits and degraded powers were in full control, and where the true living God, with His Son Jesus Christ, had no place.

FRANCIS AT HIS BEST

In the life of St. Paul, the first and greatest foreign missioner, a momentous decision had to be made when he decided to pass over into Europe. Writing to the Corinthians he said, “a great and evident door is opened to me, and many adversaries.” The decision to go to Japan was similarly a momentous one for Francis, it was a door opening into a new world. The expedition to Japan is the greatest episode in a life full of great things. It is one of the supreme achievements in all missionary history. It shows Francis at his highest and best; it called out all that was finest in him. The origin of it seemed something accidental. As he left the cathedral at Malacca, where he was celebrating a marriage, he met a friend, George Alvarez, who had returned from a trading voyage to Japan bringing with him a fugitive Japanese. This man’s name was Anjiro; he had committed a murder and had fled his country to find peace of conscience. The meeting struck a cord in the soul of Francis; it was an answer to an unspoken prayer. He inquired eagerly about this strange, remote, people, who lived at the end of the world. Anjiro told him that they were religious and had many monasteries crowded with monks; that they were intelligent and had great universities; that they had a high esteem for nobility of blood and also for personal bravery. To his question were they likely to become Christians, he answered that they would first ask many questions, and must have their doubts resolved, and that then they would embrace Christianity. From his first meeting with this runaway murderer, Francis fell in love with the Japanese people. Even when he discovered, by painful experierice, that Anjiro’s account was woefully inaccurate he still cherished them before any other people. “They are the best people thus far discovered” he wrote, “and it appears to me, among infidels none will ever be found to excel the Japanese.”

As Francis had been appointed by Ignatius, provincial superior of all the east missions, he had to settle the affairs of his great province before he could think of leaving for Japan. He had made up his mind that he should undertake this hazardous expedition. His friends pointed out that half of the ships which set out for that country were lost because of storms or pirates. These dangers did not dismay Francis; but he was acutely conscious of the activity of the evil spirit. “The enemy is very active to prevent the voyage,” he said. “I do not know what he fears from our enterprise.” This interior opposition was a frequent experience of Francis; but he had never before felt it so strongly. “Combats within, fears without” had accompanied the decision of St. Paul to enter Europe (ii. Cor. VII.); similar experiences inaugurated the great enterprise of Francis.

THE ENDS OF THE EARTH

He arranged with the captain of a Chinese junk to convey him to Japan. He had been generously helped by the

Portuguese merchants with money and gifts. On the 24th of June, the feast of St. John the Baptist, 1549, with two companions he set sail from Malacca. Every league carried him into the unknown. The captain soon grew afraid and wished to abandon the journey, but the vigorous remonstrances of Francis kept him to his engagement, until they met with a storm which carried the vessel irresistibly to their destination. On August 15th 1549 Francis stepped ashore at the port of Kagoxima, on the most southern island of Japan. There was a very special significance in the event. Fifteen centuries before, Our Lord at the moment of His Ascension, had given the Apostles the commission “You shall be witnesses to Me. . . . at the uttermost parts of the earth.” The wave of missionary effort had spread ever wider during the centuries and now, in the person of Francis, it lead literally reached to the ends of the earth.

REJECTED AND DESPISED

Francis spent a little over two years in Japan from August 1549 to November 1551. It was the most difficult, the most heroic, chapter in his career. The astounding success which had marked his earlier efforts, the esteem and reverence which had surrounded him, these were not found in Japan. Everything was quite different from what he had known or even expected. The flimsy houses, which were so poor a protection to the awful cold, the toy-like furniture, the strange food, the whole social and religious structure of society, the impossible language, the painful journeys, the difficulty of making contact, these would have daunted anyone but Francis. The accounts given by Anjiro were found to be completely wide of the truth. The plan of Francis to seek out the king to get permission to preach, was seen at once to be impossible. The country was in a state of political anarchy. The hereditary king had lost all power and the government in the provinces was in the hands of local rulers. The universities which he had dreamt of entering, with a view to influence the intellectual classes, were closed to him. The Bonzes he met, were for the most part, vice-ridden, cynical men, who traded on the superstition of the people.

A great part of Francis’ time was taken up with journeys from one local ruler, Daimyo, to another. These journeys involved extreme suffering. He was soon in the midst of the arctic Japanese winter, and had only just come from the tropics. He had made no preparation to meet the new situation. When he and his companions travelled on foot they had to wade through icy streams and walk along rough roads frozen as hard as iron. They were stoned at nightfall out of the villages by the children and had to try to sleep in the woods. Francis travelled barefoot. Food was always hard to get. At times he travelled by sea, crouched on the open deck of a small craft, without any protection from the icy wind and frozen spray. With the assistance of Anjiro, who had become a Christian and at Baptism had taken the name of Paul of the Holy Faith, he had the creed translated into Japanese and for hours and weeks he toiled at the task of learning how to read the account. The Japanese had never seen a European before and the appearance of these strangers excited derisive laughter, which the attempts to read the gospel only increased. On one occasion as Francis’ companion attempted to read his script a man came up and spat in his face.

SLOW HARVEST

But the sincerity and courage of Francis began to make itself felt, and in different places small groups of converts began to form. It was a slow and scanty harvest. It was the fruit of suffering such as no other mission had involved. But God was very good to him and inundated his soul with spiritual delights. As he trudged along the icy roads his feet were torn and lacerated and bled freely, leaving a red stain on the snow. An eyewitness gave a picture of Francis travelling in the retinue of a wealthy Japanese, running along with the other servants, tossing an apple into the air, filled with heavenly joy and oblivious of his sufferings.

But letters from India and Malacca made it clear that his return to these places was imperative. He left Bungo in November 1551 and after a terrible storm, during which the ship ran before the wind for five days without sight of sun or stars, he reached Malacca. But while he went about settling the business of his province, his mind was occupied with thoughts of another and greater enterprise. Wherever he went in the far east he found a great respect and esteem for China, for its immensity, its civilization, its wealth, its culture. This attitude was very pronounced in Japan. Francis was often asked how could his religion be the true one if it was not known to the Chinese. On his way back to Malacca he was shown letters smuggled out of Canton from Europeans imprisoned there. They described the barbarous tortures to which they were subject. They indicated that if the king of Portugal sent an embassy to the emperor of China they would be released.

GOING ONWARD ALONE

This news came to Francis as a confirmation of a resolution he had already formed, the resolution to enter China to preach the gospel. He knew only too well the hazards of the enterprise. China had long been hermetically sealed against foreigners. The few Portuguese who had managed to slip through the closed cordon had been at once arrested and tortured and then confined in underground dungeons pressed down to the earth with heavy beams. Francis was not to be averted from his design by these dangers. He said that he was more afraid of losing his trust in God by giving up the prospect. Portuguese friends again helped him generously and, armed with authority from the Pope and the king of Portugal, he was confident that he would enter the closed empire and announce Christ there. He was convinced that the conversion of China would mean the conversion of all the east. But the enterprise, at the last moment, was wrecked by the ill-will and jealousy of Don Alvarez the grand captain of the Malacca. He was immovable in his opposition and rejected all Francis’ arguments and appeals with contempt.

It was a most severe blow which would have crushed another man. But Francis’ courage and enterprise were not to be overcome. If he could not enter China in the train of the Portuguese ambassador and as the delegate of the Pope, he would enter alone and secretly. He secured a passage aboard a merchant ship to Sancian, a small island off Canton where Chinese and Portuguese merchants met to do business. He was now separated by only a few miles of sea from China. He arranged with the captain of a small junk to be ferried across and landed secretly at Canton. While he waited he ministered to the Portuguese merchants; he had them put up a small chapel with branches and straw, where he said Mass. As the weeks passed, the vessels left the harbour one by one and returned to Malacca. The winter was approaching. Francis could be seen pacing the shore, stopping now and then to look out to sea, in the hope of catching sight of the sail he was expecting. When the boat had not appeared by the 20th of November he knew he had failed.

It would seem as if the disappointment suddenly underminded his strength. He fell into a fever and was brought aboard a vessel, but the tossing of the ship was very distressing and he was transferred to a small straw hut that let in the icy winds on all sides. He was attended by two youths, an Indian and a Chinese. His fever grew worse and he was bled. He did not utter a word of complaint. Then he became delirious and preached in different languages. His prayers were incessant, invocations to the Blessed Trinity, to Our Lord and Our Lady. Some of his prayers were in a language his hearers could not understand. It would appear that on his death bed he had gone back to the scenes of his childhood, to the chapel at Xavier castle, where he learned his prayers in Basque from his mother. After midnight on Saturday. the 3rd of December the blessed candle was placed in his hands and he died with the name of Jesus on his lips. He was forty-six years of age.

The body was hastily buried and a quantity of quicklime put into the coffin. When some months afterwards the vessel was to return to Malacca the coffin was opened and the body was found to be fresh and flexible, as if he were asleep. The body on its arrival at Malacca was received with the greatest reverence as that of a saint and apostle. His long journey back to Goa was a triumphant procession. At Goa he was buried in the cathedral among those who were his first converts, and who have always been loyal to his message and memory.

St. Francis Xavier was beatified in 1619 and three years later was canonized with his master and friend St. Ignatius. In 1748 he was constituted the patron of India and all the east, where he is revered as a great servant of God. In 1904 he was appointed the patron of the congregation of the Propagation of the Faith. In 1927 St. Francis and St. Therese of Lisieux were constituted by Pius XI as the principal patrons of all the missions and missionaries of the world.

EVER AN INSPIRATION

The lapse of time, through the changes, and the shifting of emphasis, it inevitably brings, makes certain saints remote from later ages, though it does not lessen their heroic stature. The causes they served so nobly are no longer living issues. But history will never leave St. Francis behind. The cause to which he gave such splendid service will always be a living one for the Church. “You shall be witnesses to Me-to the ends of the earth,” was the last commission Christ gave to His Apostles. It was a commission that must always be urgent; that no lapse of time would make out of date. When St. Paul cried out: “Woe is me if I preach not the gospel” (1 Cor. IX. 16) he voiced the abiding urge not merely of every apostolic soul but of the Church itself. The Church of Christ must ever be dynamic, expansive, must ever strain to the fullest note of being Catholic, of being for all men. Its concern must always be to make Jesus Christ known to an ever widening circle of believers.

To the men and women who will respond to this call of the Church, who will desire to be exiles and travellers for the name of Christ, St. Francis Xavier will ever be an inspiration and an ideal. That courageous adventurer who penetrated to the remotest places, who was intrepid in the face of all dangers, the tireless worker who gave all to the service of souls, the great hearted friend of sinners, the sick, the outcasts, the saints who lived so close to Christ his Master, and who desired to set the whole world aflame with the love that blazed in his own heart, St. Francis Xavier, will never cease to beckon to generous souls and lead them to the distant fields, that are always white to the harvest.

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Saint Gemma Galgani

INDEX

(1878–1903)

A VISITOR to the ancient city of Lucca, in the opening years of this century, strolling along the Via Zecca might have chanced on a strangely unedifying scene. A young girl of striking beauty was modestly making her way homewards with downcast eyes from one of the city churches. She was rather dowdily dressed, with battered hat of black straw, rusty black gown and mantle, and a little crucifix on her breast. A number of small boys were playing on the street as she passed. Suddenly they swarmed round the girl, tugging roughly at her clothing, shouting insults and words of derision, while some of the bolder even spat in her face. She showed no sign of resentment and, when some passers-by rescued her, went her way with a quiet word of thanks. It was not the first time her unconscious oddity of dress and manner had attracted the unwelcome attention of the street urchins of Lucca. But the only comment she was ever heard to make was in a whisper to her frightened companion, “If the world despises me I may hope one day to become a Saint.”

She did become a Saint, one of a peculiarly rare and exalted type. And it needs no violent stretch of the imagination to picture some of those thoughtless boys, now grown to manhood, among the crowds of pilgrims from Lucca who rentthe air of St Peter’s with their Vivas on May 2nd, 1940, when Pius XII proclaimed the heroic sanctity of their victim and commended her to the veneration of the Universal Church. For the girl was Gemma Galgani.

Gemma’s was a life marked throughout by divi ne favours of an extraordinary character ; but it was far indeed from being a life lived in a “stained-glass attitude.” Though an ecstatica, “bearing in her body the marks of the Lord Jesus,” the stigmata of His Sacred Passion, her spiritual life was quite hidden from the world. She was never the object of public curiosity or veneration. So far as she was known at all it was as a young girl of a piety too extreme to meet general approval. And there were no convent walls to shelter her from the misunderstandings and buffetings of the world. Her soul lived on the heights, but to ordinary appearances her life was commonplace enough. She was the busiest and most useful member of a large household, and went about her regular daily occupations to the last, as if she were quite unconscious of the high vocation by which she was singled out and set apart as a Victim of Divine Love. The little street scene just described shows her “in her habit as she lived” and is typical of the simplicity and humility that distinguished her whole life of labour and suffering.

She was the fourth of the eight children, and the eldest daughter, of Henry Galgani and Aurelia his wife, and was born at Camigliano, a village near Lucca on March i2th, 1878. At her baptism on the following day she was given the name of Gemma in spite of her mother’s objection that there was no canonized Saint of the name. It was an objection that can never be raised again. Happily it was overruled that day by the half-playful remark of a priest who was by: “There are Gems in Heaven, and let us hope she may become one of them.” But to be on the safe side, three Saints” names were added, including that of the Queen of all Saints.

A month after the birth of Gemma, the family removed to Lucca, chiefly in view of the larger facilities the city offered for the Christian education of the children. The Galgani parents were devout and enlightened Catholics, and naturally felt the importance of a sound Catholic schooling for their growing family. But all was not left to the school. Education began and continued in the home, and Gemma’s first and most lasting lessons in Christian piety were re- ceived at her mother’s knee. Her first prayers, her first simple lessons in the catechism, were learned from her mother’s lips : her mother’s crucifix was the first book in which she read the divine epic of the Man of Sorrows, and it was by her mother’s side in their parish church that she first learned to taste the “ hidden and unutterable sweetness of the Mass.” “It was Mamma,”she said years afterwards, “ who made me long as a little one to go to Heaven.”

At the age of three she was sent with her elder brothers to a private school in the city kept by two pious ladies, whom she surprised by her capacity for study and her taste for prayer. She had already, it would seem, attained the use of reason, and those ladies have since declared that when five years old she could read the Office of Our Lady from the Breviary as easily as a grown person. But there was nothing of the unlovely precociousness of the infant prodigy about her, and she endeared herself to all, companions and teachers alike, by her winning simplicity and good nature.

One reason why Gemma was sent to school so young may well have been that her mother about this time fell a victim to consumption. Her long lingering illness, endured with saintly resignation, was only embittered by the thought that she must soon leave her children when they most needed her care. Gemma came to know that her mother was going to the heaven of which she had so often heard her speak, and her one wish was to go with her. Every day as she returned from school her first thought was to hurry to the sickroom fearing that her mother might have taken flight in her absence. Meanwhile the day of her Confirmation came, May 26th, 1885, and with it the first of those heavenly communications which played so large a part in her spiritual life. After the ceremony she was assisting at a Mass of thanksgiving “ when all of a sudden,” she tells us, “ a voice in my heart said to me: “Will you give me your Mamma?” “Yes,” I answered, “if you will take me as well.” “No,” the voice replied, “give me your Mamma without reserve. I will take you to heaven later.” I could only answer “Yes,” and when Mass was over I ran home.” It was her first great sacrifice and it cost her bitter grief and tears; but when her mother died a few months later it was Gemma who consoled the others

“Why should we cry? Mamma is gone to heaven.”

Shortly after her mother’s death, Gemma, now in her eighth y ear, was sent to the school of the Sisters of St. Zita in Lucca. Here she soon became, in the words of one of her teachers, “the soul of the school. Nothing was ever done without her . . . and all her companions bore her the greatest affection.” But she was no ready-made Saint, and for a time she had a hard struggle to be good. Her faults indeed were less of conduct than of character. She was a child of ardent temperament, full of life and high spirits, and rather apt to be impetuous. Some even called her a little madcap. Others, with less reason, thought her proud and wilful. But the frank innocent smile and candid eyes told a different story. “Gemma, Gemma,” one of the Sisters used to say, “if I did not read your eyes I would think as others do.” Under the same discerning Sister she acquired a greater taste for prayer, and a tender devotion to the Passion of Our Lord on which she began to meditate daily. Her love for the Mother of God was always deep and intense, the more so as she had lost her earthly mother. “If God has taken away my mother,” she would often say, “He has left me His own.” And her constant prayer was: “Holy Virgin, make me a Saint.” It was her custom to say the whole fifteen decades of the Rosary on her knees in the evening after her return from school. She even began to use penances and to rise in the night to pray. By these means and a continual watchfulness over herself she obtained the mastery over her natural impulsiveness of character and soon became so modest, retiring, and silent, that those who did not know her thought her naturally shy or stupid.

But it was a hard struggle. And the help she needed most and most desired was as yet denied her. She had long expressed the wish to make her First Communion. “You are too young,” the parish priest had told her, “you shall make it when you are seven.” But her seventh year had come and gone without any sign of the promise being fulfilled. When she began to attend the convent school she renewed her petitions with fresh hope. “Give me Jesus,” she would say to the Confessor or the Sisters, “and you will see how good I shall be: I will not sin again, I shall be quite changed.” But the custom of the time was against Communion at so early an age, and she was in her tenth year before permission was granted, and only, granted then by special exception. “There is no alternative,” the confessor declared, “but to admit her to Communion or see her die of grief.”

Gemma’s first thought in her abounding joy and gratitude was how to make the most of her happy privilege. She obtained the rather unwilling permission of her father to make a closed retreat of ten days in the convent, during which she saw nothing of her family. Her constant meditation was on the words of Christ which she heard in one of the instructions: “He that eateth me the same also shall live by me.” And the better to realize the life of Jesus in herself she asked to be more fully instructed in the mysteries of His Sacred Passion, to which she listened with many tears. Her little childish faults now took on a peculiar grossness, and she made a general confession of her short life and did it with such thoroughgoing detail that she found it necessary to make three visits to the confessor. One may imagine the angelic fervour with which she received her Lord for the first time on the Feast of the Sacred Heart, June 17th, 1887. “I feel a fire burning here,” she said to one of her little fellow communicants afterwards, pointing to her breast. “Do you feel like that ?” She could not imagine that there was anything exceptional in her own experience.

Her life henceforth was a constant growth in union with Jesus. “Gemma is good for nothing,” she would say, “but Gemma and Jesus can do all things.” And the closer her union with Him, the greater her desire that all should share in it. “ She longed for the universal reign of Christ,” the Sister we have already quoted tells us, and took a specially keen interest in the work of the Propagation of the Faith and of the Holy Childhood, in which the children of the school were enrolled. Her constant prayer was for the conversion of the infidel and for that of obstinate sinners nearer home, so that “the kingdom of Christ’s love might be extended over the whole earth.” But her growth in holiness and her zeal for souls did not interfere with her regular school work, and she even excelled her companions in her aptitude for learning. In mathematics, science, and literature, the chief subjects of the school curriculum, she always acquitted herself with distinction, and she had a special gift for music and painting. As the years went on, her devotion to study seemed excessive to those at home and was the subject of frequent remark : “Why do you study so much? You know such a lot already and you are not satisfied.” Needless to say religion was her favourite subject, and in Christian Doctrine, Sacred Scripture, and Church History she showed unusual proficiency. Towards the close of her school career she was entered for a competitive examination in Christian Doctrine open to the children of the various parishes of the city, and she was awarded the gold medal and a prize of five pounds. Such success seemed to augur a brilliant future. She was now sixteen and her father offered, if she wished, to send her to the University. But Gemma’s answer was a decided “ No: no University for me!”

Her decision, doubtless, was a blow to her father. Gemma was his favourite child: he had high hopes of her and was very proud of her beauty of mind and person. His partiality, indeed, amounted to imprudence, and Gemma would sometimes gently remonstrate with him and remind him that he had other children to consider. “I know,” he would say, “I love them all, but then you are my eldest daughter.” He would have her as his constant companion out of doors. Her clothes should come from the most expensive shops. Any excuse for lunch in the city meant bringing her to the best hotels. If it chanced she was not in his company his first inquiry on his return home was: “Where is Gemma?”- generally answered by a nod towards the little room where she shut herself up to work and pray in solitude. Without meaning it, for he was a deeply religious man, he did all in his power to spoil her. But Gemma was not to be spoilt. She did indeed try to fall in with his fancies. And once, to please him, when she went to receive her gold medal at the public distribution of prizes by the Archbishop of Lucca, she wore a stylish costume specially made for the occasion, with a pretty necklace, a ring, and other trinkets, and a gold watch. It was her last appearance as a smart young woman of the world. On her return from the ceremony as she laid aside her finery, her Guardian Angel, to whom she always had a great devotion, appeared to her with the words,” “The true ornaments of a spouse of the Crucified are Thorns and the Cross.” She never wore her worldly finery again.

Thorns and the Cross were no strangers to Gemma, and were henceforth to be the normal experience of her life. Already she had passed through a painful spiritual crisis, lasting a whole year, during which her intense love for Jesus was overshadowed by the feeling of being abandoned by Him. She saw nothing .in herself but evil, nothing in her daily life but scandal to others. Prayer was a torture to her. Her devotion turned to repugnance and disgust. She met the trial by a still more earnest fidelity to her spiritual exercises: more than ever the crucifix and the tabernacle were the two poles of her life. The members of her family noticed the change in her, and completely misunderstood it. They reproached her with spending too much time in church, opposed her rising early for Mass, and generally added to the bitterness of her sufferings with the best intentions, But the trial passed leaving her soul with a fresh strength to face the sufferings that were still to come.

Gemma’s school life was brought to an end by a painful illness. An injury to her foot which she made light of resulted in caries of the bone and laid her up for some months. An operation was necessary, but she refused an anaesthetic and with eyes fixed on the crucifix suffered the excruciating pain without a moan. The doctors were amazed, and applauded her courage and endurance. But Gemma only smiled: she knew the secret of it.

Restored to health she now took her place in the home to do the duties that naturally fall to the eldest daughter in a motherless family. They were many, for it was a large household, and her hands were never idle. In the intervals of domestic work she busied herself in making altar linen and vestments for the church or clothing for the poor. She had a particular care for the religious education of her young brothers and sisters, teaching them their catechism, leading their daily prayers, or bringing them to the devotions in church. And in their childish differences and quarrels she was always, as one of them said, the “bearer of the olive branch.” But her activities were not confined to the home. She would often gather the poor children of the neighbourhood together for religious instruction. She frequently visited the sick in hospital, bringing them little material comforts but especially “comforting them with thoughts of God.” Her charity to the poor and afflicted went almost to the point of extravagance. She not only dispensed food and clothing with unstinted hand to those who came to her door, but she sought out those unable or unwilling to come and whose needs she knew. Every time she went out she would ask her father for money to give in charity, and if sometimes he refused she would coax permission to take bread or flour or whatever she could lay her hands on at the moment. When family circumstances became straitened and she was reminded that she could no longer afford to be so generous she would reply: “The Providence of God will never fail.” At last her Confessor severely restricted her bounty and her father cut off money supplies. Poor Gemma was plunged in grief and left the house as little as possible to avoid meeting the poor whom she could not help.

Her home duties and her pressing concern for others were in no sense an obstacle to the growth of her interior life. Rather the contrary: her busy life of active charity drew its inspiration from her life of prayer and union with God. When she was most occupied with external things she seemed to those around her wholly absorbed in God. “Her life was one continual prayer,” says a priest who knew her well, “and her prayer-book was the crucifix.” The thought of the sufferings of Christ never left her, and it was in those days, as she tells us, she “began to feel a growing desire to love Jesus Crucified with all her heart, and together with this a longing to help Him in His sufferings.” “O Jesus,” she prayed, “I wish to follow Thee whatever it may cost me of suffering-to follow Thee fervently. . . . I wish to suffer, to suffer, oh, so much, for Thee.” The mystery in which “ the memory of His Passion is recalled “ was therefore the centre around which her whole spiritual life revolved. And a glimpse of her at this time by an eye-witness gives a vivid impression of the fervour of her devotion to the Holy Eucharist. The words are those of Miss Ethel Rose, an English convert: “I saw her one day in the church of St Michael as I awaited my turn for confession. . . . A priest came to give Holy Communion to the people, and among them was a young girl who made a deep impression on me, not only by her modesty and recollection, but by the extreme pallor of her face. I was so fascinated that I watched her for nearly an hour. I observed how she received Jesus, and afterwards, her face lighted up and flushed with the ardour of her love, how she knelt by the altar with hands clasped and head gently bowed upon her breast totally absorbed in prayer. She was like a statue.” The impression thus made on a complete stranger was not less than that produced on the members of her own household, under whose somewhat more critical and exacting observation her daily life was passed. They did not always understand her, but they could not help admiring how perfectly she seemed to combine her home duties and her charitable activities for others with the closest union with God. But “there is only one Gemma,” they said. And an old man-servant of the family who knew her long and intimately, in after days summed up his impression of herin a phrase of simple eloquence: “Gemma stood alone-there was no one like her.”

Those happy home days were soon to pass. Gemma seemed to have a sense of coming tragedy. In her spiritual diary at the opening of 1897 she wrote: “In this new year I purpose to begin a new life. I know not what is going to happen to me this year. I abandon myself to Thee, O my God. . . . I feel my weakness, O Jesus, but I rely on Thy assistance. . . .”

The Galgani family had hitherto been in easy circumstances. The father was a chemist with a flourishing business in Lucca and a country house and considerable property in its neighbourhood. He was a large-hearted man with little worldly prudence. His good nature was well known and often unscrupulously turned to account. People would come to borrow money or ask his signature to bills of exchange, and no one with a plausible case was refused. If his tenants were behind-hand with their rents, or his customers with their accounts, they were never pressed. The result eventually was disaster for his family. Signor Galgani was spared the worst. He died in November, 1897, and Gemma’s sad forebodings at the opening of the year were more than fulfilled. Her father’s body was scarcely cold when his creditors obtained an execution, seized his property and turned his family into the street. With a truculence hard to imagine, they even searched the children’s pockets for money and took from Gemma the few pence found on her person. The Galganis were reduced to hopeless beggary and were forced to live on the charity of strangers. The relatives who might have assisted them were in great part involved in their father’s ruin.

Gemma found refuge for a time with an aunt almost as poor as herself. It was about this time that she received more than one tempting offer of marriage which to a girl less spiritual might have seemed a providential way out of her difficulties. To Gemma who wished to belong entirely to Jesus they were an insufferable annoyance. She was suddenly freed from all annoyance of the kind by a disease which made sad havoc of her personal beauty. She had felt symptoms of its oncoming, but her repugnance to medical examination made her conceal them till she found herself a helpless invalid with tuberculosis of the spine. Her pitiful condition, and the patience and sweetness with which she suffered, got abroad and drew many pious visitors to her bedside. One of these brought her the Life of St Gabriel of Our Lady of Sorrows, already famed for his sanctity and miracles though not yet canonized. Some had begun to pray to this young Passionist for her recovery. Gemma at first took little interest in the Life or in her friends” prayers, being equally pleased to live or die as God willed. But having once invoked the Saint’s name in a distressing temptation with instant effect, she read the book not once but several times and conceived a special devotion to him. More than once he appeared to her, speaking words of consolation and encouragement, but she never once dreamed of asking him for her cure. In February, 1899, the doctors pronounced her case hopeless and she received the Last Sacraments. Her confessor, Mgr. Volpi, auxiliary Bishop of Lucca and afterwards Bishop of Arezzo, who was then spiritual director of the Visitation Nuns at Lucca, visited her on February 19th and suggested she should make a novena to St Margaret Mary Alacoque for her recovery. Twice she began the novena, but forgot to continue it. What followed may be best told in her own words: “ On the 23rd February I began it for the third time, or rather had meant to begin it for it was now within a few minutes of midnight, when I heard the clink of a rosary beads and felt a hand laid on my brow. A voice said the Our Father, Hail Mary, and Gloria nine times in succession. I hardly answered I was so weak. Then the voice said: “Do you wish to be cured? Yes, you will be cured. Pray with faith to the Sacred Heart of Jesus. I will come every evening till the end of the novena and we shall pray together to the Sacred Heart.” “And what of Blessed Margaret Mary?” I asked. “Repeat the Gloria three times in her honour.” It was the Passionist, St Gabriel. He came every evening and we recited the prayers together. The novena was to end on the first Friday of March. Early that morning I received HolyCommunion. Oh, what happy moments I passed with Jesus. He, too, asked me, “Do you wish to be cured? “My emotion was so great that I could not speak, but in my heart I answered, “Whatever Thou willest, O Jesus!” . . . The grace was granted. I was cured. I rose from bed. Those in the house were crying for joy. I too was pleased, but not so much that I had been cured as that Jesus had chosen me for His child. For that morning before He left me He had said: “ My child, the grace thou hast received this morning will be followed by many others still greater.””

Gemma’s cure was complete and permanent. Her illness had lasted more than a year and had brought her to death’s door, but ever afterwards her health was perfectly normal and even robust. Her first thought after her recovery was one she had long entertained-of entering a convent. Circumstances had hitherto made it impossible to realize, but now her way seemed clear. Several religious communities in Lucca would gladly have accepted her, and even encouraged her hopes. But ecclesiastical authority was slow to believe in the permanence of her sudden cure from such a dangerous disease: and Gemma, to her grief, found the convent doors gently and regretfully but firmly barred against her. Meanwhile her spiritual life grew in intensity and fervour, her union with God became more conscious and intimate, and her soul began to be visited with divine communications of the most extraordinary and exalted kind. She had been accustomed even during her illness to make the Holy Hour in honour of the agony of Jesus in Gethsemani. In gratitude for her recovery she now promised the Sacred Heart of Jesus that she would never omit it. And on the Holy Thursday following she prepared for this pious exercise by a general confession of her whole life. It was as if she knew what the Holy Hour was to mean to her, for it was during this hour that Jesus henceforth began to pour into her soul those marvellous graces which made of her life a martyrdom of love. Her first experience on this Holy Thursday she thus described to her spiritual director

“I spent the whole hour praying, and weeping for my sins. Feeling weak I sat down. The sorrow continued, but after a little I felt rapt in recollection. Shortly afterwards I suddenly lost the use of my senses. I tried to get up and lock the door of my room. Where was I? I found myself in the presence of Jesus Crucified, blood flowing from His wounds. The sight filled me with pain. I lowered my eyes and made the sign of the Cross: I felt great peace of mind, but still intense sorrow for my sins. I had not the courage to look at Jesus. I bent down with forehead to the ground and remained so for several hours . . . when I came to myself the wounds of Jesus were so impressed on my mind that they have never since left it.”

The vision filled Gemma with a new horror for sin and with an intense desire to suffer with Jesus and to become a victim for the salvation of souls. The desire was to be gratified in a way she little expected. One morning after Holy Communionshe heard the voice of Jesus say to her, “Courage, Gemma, I await thee on Calvary whither thou goest.” The meaning of the words was soon made plain. A few days later, on Thursday, June 8th, the eve of the Feast of the Sacred Heart, when she began as usual to make the Holy Hour, she felt a piercing sorrow for her sins such as she had never experienced, and a peculiarly vivid sense of the sufferings of Jesus. Suddenly she was rapt in ecstasy and found herself in presence of her heavenly Mother and her Guardian Angel. The angel made her repeat an act of contrition, and Mary comforted her with the assurance that her sins were forgiven, and told her she was to receive a great grace through the love of Jesus. “Then”-they are Gemma’s own words-”she opened her mantle and covered me with it. At the same moment Jesus appeared with His wounds open: but instead of blood, flames as it were of fire seemed to issue from them. In an instant those flames touched my hands and feet and heart. I felt as if I were dying and should have fallen to the floor, had not my Mother supported me under her mantle. I remained in that position some hours. Then she kissed my forehead, the vision disappeared and I found myself on my knees alone: but I still felt intense pain in my hands, feet, and heart. I rose to go to bed, but I found that blood was flowing from the places where I had the pain. I covered them as well as I could and got into bed with the help of my Guardian Angel. Next morning I found it difficult to go to Holy Communion. I put on a pair of gloves to hide my hands. But I could scarcely stand, and felt every moment that I should die. Those pains continued until three o‘clock on Friday, the Feast of the Sacred Heart.”

Apart from her confusion and distress at such a sinner being s o favoured, Gemma’s only thought seems to have been like that which occurred to her after her First Communion when she felt a fire burning in her heart-that it was a common experience with those whom Jesus had chosen for His own. She began to make timid inquiries among her friends during the day, but only succeeded in mystifying them without obtaining any information. At last, feeling that she must confide in someone, as the blood continued to flow, she went to her aunt and holding up her hands said with the simplicity of a child, “Aunt, see what Jesus has done to me.” The good woman was struck dumb with amazement, but as little understood the meaning of the strange phenomenon as Gemma herself.

The phenomenon was repeated regularly every Thursday evening, beginning about eight o‘clock and lasting until three in the afternoon of Friday. Gemma seemed to pass through all the phases of the Passion and bore in her body all the marks of Christ’s physical sufferings: not only the wounds in hands, feet, and side, but the punctures of the crown of thorns, the marks of the scourging, the wound on the shoulder caused by the weight of the Cross, all accompanied with the most excruciating pain. Throughout those hours she engaged in loving colloquies with Jesus in a low voice, often tenderly pleading for mercy for sinners and offering herself as a victim in expiation for their sins.

For some little time Gemma kept these extraordinary occurrences a secret even from her confessor : partly through her extreme humility, partly through the difficulty of explaining them in the confessional. A few weeks after they began, however, a mission was given by the Passionist Fathers in Lucca which Gemma attended. After the general Communion on the last day of the mission, she heard an interior voice which said: “ You shall be a daughter of my Passion, and a favourite daughter: one of these shall be a father to thee: go and make everything known to them.” She found a prudent and sympathetic adviser in one of the missioners, who communicated with Mgr. Volpi, her confessor, with the result that the Passionist Father Germanus was ultimately appointed her spiritual director. Mgr. Volpi was perplexed and doubtful. about the genuineness of the manifestations. The mission Father and those whom he consulted were equally at a loss. Father Germanus, a priest of large experience and of a dry and scientific turn of mind, was frankly sceptical when first consulted by Mgr. Volpi, declined to have anything to do with Gemma, and advised him to make his penitent follow the beaten track. It was only after considerable pressure that he was induced to visit her. After a searching and thorough investigation, however, he came to recognize in her an elect soul, “a true Gem of the Sacred Heart of Jesus,” and remained her spiritual director for the rest of her life.

“It is good to hide the secret of the King.” And one of Gemma’s chief anxieties was to keep the secret of the great things God had done to herfrom profane eyes. It was soon evident that in her aunt’s house this was impossible. The younger members of the family were curious: not one was sympathetic: things began to be talked of outside, and in no kindly spirit. Gemma was frequently rapt in ecstasy even in the course of her daily occupations, and was thus at the mercy of the light-minded. She had to suffer much in consequence. At length, through the influence of the Passionist Fathers, she was received into the home of their benefactors the Giannini, a well-known family in Lucca, first as an occasional guest, finally as an adopted daughter. The household consisted of the father and mother with eleven children, and an aunt named Cecilia, who already knew and admired Gemma and was henceforth to act the part of a mother to her. The character of this family may be guessed from a sentence or two of the father’s evidence in the Process for the Beatification of Gemma where, telling of her influence in his home, he speaks of “my five sons who are a great consolation to me. They go to Holy Communion every day and are much engaged in the field of Catholic Action. Of my daughters five are nuns, one has remained at home, and one is married.”

Here Gemma was sheltered from the prying eyes of the world and from the reputation for uncommon sanctity which she so dreaded. Her life in the Giannini household may surprise those who perhaps imagine that a life of exalted and continuous prayer must be one of inaction. For it was a life of constant and useful activity. Signor Giannini, just quoted, summed it up by saying, “Gemma was never idle.” “At first when she came to us,” says her friend Cecilia, “she used to crochet, but she preferred knitting or mending stockings, because I believe it permitted her to keep more recollected. It kept her busy, for she mended for the whole family. She was always ready to do whatever there was to do. If there was need she put the rooms in order, assisted others with their work, helped the children with their lessons. She was never unoccupied.” A priest who lived with the family and saw her at her daily duties could not help admiring “her spirit of recollection and union with God. Even in the midst of the most distracting domestic occupations she always seemed as if absorbed in God and in continual meditation. But this did not hinder her from attending with great care to whatever she was doing.”

A duty she especially coveted was the care of the sick. “She always looked after those who were ill in the house with the greatest care and attention, punctual with their medicine, noting their temperature, and in all things showing the greatest kindness, charity, and intelligence . . . and all this she did for the love of God.” The charity to the poor which she had practised as a child in her own home, and which her poverty checked for a time, now found a fresh and ample outlet. Her benefactors allowed her to exercise a large discretion in giving alms of their goods, and she always put aside something of her own at table for the poor. “But,” says Cecilia Giannini, “I did not want to encourage poor people to come to the house in a procession, it might have led to awkward incidents.” So Gemma dispensed her charities outside, “at the foot of the steps in the loggia,” where her friend often watched her from a window above, sitting with the poor, giving them good advice, instructing them in some point of Christian Doctrine, or comforting them in their sorrows with the thought of Jesus Crucified. Gemma, indeed, seems to have had a special devotion to the spiritual work of mercy that concerns the instruction of the ignorant: for Signor Giannini tells us that even when she went with the family to their country house she would gather the men and boys of the neighbourhood to teach them their catechism and give them some appropriate spiritual instruction.

Few indeed would have suspected from Gemma’s external life the sublime spiritual heights to which she was raised. Her simplicity and humility threw an effective veil over the secrets of her interior life. A priest, who frequently visited the Giannini family and knew her well, was unaware of her extraordinary holiness till death revealed it. “Her modesty and simplicity,” he tells us, “made a most pleasing impression on me. And though I often came in contact with her I could not find in her the smallest imperfection. . . . Her words were few and in answer only to questions asked of her. I never heard her speak of herself. But while knowing well that she had a most delicate conscience and a beautiful soul, all intenton loving God, I should never have thought that she was so far advanced in sanctity.” Father Germanus tells us that if there was a virtue characteristic of Gemma, it was her evangelical simplicity. It distinguished her from childhood and accompanied her all along her ascent to the summits of the supernatural life. “With her, yes was yes, and no was no, white was white, and black was black: there were no middle meanings, no folds in her heart, and as she felt so she spoke and so she acted.” She could not bear to think or speak to the detriment of anyone. “You would need a wrench,” a witness said in the Processes, “to draw a word from her regarding others, even when the information was necessary, if it had to be an unfavourable word.” In conversation on spiritual subjects, though she spoke freely, she never took the lead or professed to know more than others. She was frequently rapt in ecstasy during the day, but on returning to herself went on with her work apparently unconscious of any interruption. And after the long weekly ecstasy “she would rise as if nothing had happened, wash away the stains of the blood which had flowed so profusely, draw down her sleeves to cover the large scars on her hands, and believing that no one had noticed her, would return to the other members of the family and take her part in the work of the day.”

It was her simplicity that led her to think at first that her mystical experiences were common with those who wish to love God. And when she realized that they were exceptional, she was haunted by the fear that she might be deceived or a deceiver. She had heard of such cases from those least qualified to deal with her. She had even heard a whisper of the ugly word, hysteria. And she would ask her director : “Am I to believe it-is Jesus, or the devil, or my own imagination? I am ignorant, and may be deceived. What would become of me if I were the victim of delusion? You know I do not wish these things. I only wish Jesus to be pleased with me.” Or again, “ Can it be that I am a deceiver ? If I am I shall lose my soul. I should like you to explain what a deceiver is, for I do not want to deceive anyone.” She found her only consolation in absolute obedience to her confessor and her spiritual director: “Oh, what consolation my heart finds in obedience! It fills me with a calm I cannot explain. Dear obedience! Source of all my peace.”

Her child-like simplicity was wedded to a deep and touching humility. She seemed to be unaware of her high spiritual gifts and regarded herself, like the Apostle, as the chief of sinners. Once during a retreat made in childhood she had heard the preacher say, “Remember that we are nothing and that God is all,” and the words made an impression which never faded. The thought was always in the forefront of her mind, and as she grew in the knowledge of God she saw less and less of good in herself and was filled with confusion and dismay at the divine favours granted to her. The more God exalted her the more deeply she sank in her own estimation. She always sought the humblest place and the most menial duties, and “If through the mercy of God,” she once said, “I have experienced some happy moments they were when I saw myself despised and humiliated.” Again and again she implored Our Lord to withdraw His extraordinary favours from her and bestow them on someone more worthy. She dreaded the account she should have to give for her fancied want of correspondence with God’s grace, and she put her whole trust in His mercy. “Thy mercy, O Lord,” she would say, “is the anchor of my soul. I know that Thy mercy is greater than my ingratitude. . . . If I saw the gates of hell open and I stood on the edge of the abyss, I should not despair, I should not lose hope of mercy, because I should trust in Thee.” And when asked on her death-bed what was her favourite ejaculation she answered simply: “My Jesus, mercy.”

Under the calm unruffled exterior of her life in the Giannini household Gemma was all the time suffering a veritable spiritual martyrdom. She had once said “Jesus is the Man of Sorrows and I wish to become the daughter of sorrows.” The wish was fulfilled in part by her share in the physical sufferings of Christ, but she was to taste also of the sorrow and dereliction of His soul. In one of her first ecstasies Jesus had revealed to her something of the griefs and humiliations she was to endure for the rest of her short life. He told her that she should show the sincerity of her love when her heart became as a rock and she would feel nothing but aridity of spirit, affliction and temptation. “ The devils will make continual efforts to wreck your soul. They will put evil thoughts in your mind, fill you with a hatred for prayer, with doubts and fears. You will suffer outrages and injuries: no one will believe in you. . . . Heaven will seem deaf to your prayers. . . . You will seek Jesus and will not find Him: He will appear to have forsaken you. . . . When you call on the Blessed Virgin and the Saints they will seem to have no pity and to have abandoned you. When you go to Holy Communion or to Confession you will have no fervour. You will go through your exercises of devotion as if by routine, and you will feel the time lost Yet you will believe, but as if you did not believe : you will hope, but as if you did not hope: you will love Jesus, but as if you did not love Him, because you will be bereft of all feeling. You will grow weary of life and yet be afraid of death, and you will not be able to find relief even in tears.” It was an image of the desolation of Jesus in Gethsemani and His dereliction on the Cross, and it was all fulfilled to the letter in the life of this heroic child, who, Father Germanus tells us, was so natural and unaffected that she could scarcely have been distinguished from an ordinary young Catholic girl.

Gemma had offered herself as a victim, in union with the sufferings of Jesus, for her own sins and the sins of the world, and she yearned to make the sacrifice complete by consecrating herself to God in the religious life. She had never lost her childhood’s desire of entering a convent. And from the time she first met the Passionists and heard of a contemplative Order of Passionist Nuns she felt that her place was with them. There was a convent of the Order at Corneto, some two hundred miles from Lucca, and after asking advice she determined to go there for a course of spiritual exercises and ask admission. She met with a decided refusal, worded in no very genial terms, from a Reverend Mother who seemed wiser in her generation than the children of light. It was a bitter disappointment to Gemma, but she bore it bravely and patiently. Subsequent efforts were made in her behalf by Mgr. Volpi and Father Germanus, but without effect. Gemma began as far as she could to lead the life of a Passionist Nun outside the cloister. She had already made a vow of chastity during her serious illness, and to this she now added with her Confessor’s approval the vows of poverty and obedience. the wore the Sign of the Passion on her heart underneath her clothing, and recited the Divine Office daily like the Passionist Nuns in choir. And she never lost the hope till near the end of her life of joining them, if not at Corneto, elsewhere.

Her hope was in some sense strangely realized. In her first letter to Father Germanus, before she had yet met him, she predicted in minute detail the establishment of a convent of Passionist Nuns at Lucca. There was no thought of such a project at the time, but a year or two later it began to be talked of. Gemma was filled with enthusiasm and began to pray and to use all the influence in her power to hasten the coming of the nuns. The difficulties in the way seemed at times insuperable, but she was never disheartened. During the last year of her life it was her constant thought and the constant object of her prayers. She even searched Lucca more than once for a suitable site and interested herself in the material resources necessary for the foundation. She still had hopes of finding her vocation in the new convent. But towards the end she made the sacrifice even of these, if only the work on which she had set her heart might be accomplished: “I no longer ask to enter a convent. . . . Jesus has the habit of a Passionist Nun waiting for me at the gates of Heaven. Let me die so that the Passionist convent maybe established.” She assured those who were losing heart that the foundation would be begun after her death and completed in the year of the Beatification of St Gabriel. Her words, contrary to all expectation, were verified by the event. Two years after Gemma’s death the first little group of Passionist Sisters came to Lucca, and though they met with many obstacles and disappointments a full community took possession of the new convent in 1908, just two months after St Gabriel was beatified. Pius X, of holy memory, had already blessed the project, and, in words which would have brought joy to the heart of Gemma, assigned as the special object of the community that “of offering themselves as victims to Our Lord for the spiritual and temporal needs of the Church and of the Sovereign Pontiff.”

The convent continues to flourish. Gemma’s body re poses near the altar in the little chapel and the nuns venerate her as their foundress and the patroness of their work. “The Passionist Nuns would not accept me,” she had said, “but for all that I wish to be one of them, and I shall be with them when I am dead.” So was Gemma’s wish fulfilled at last. “If for reasons independent of her will,” writes a companion of hers now a Carmelite nun, “Gemma never wore the Passionist habit, she was none the less a true Passionist. She was a Passionist in soul, and she had the spirit of the Passionists. The Order has made her its own. Her convent has been established for years and continues to flourish exceedingly.” The same thought was expressed by Benedict XV in the decree introducing the Cause of her Beatification: “The pious virgin, Gemma Galgani, if not by habit and profession, undoubtedly by desire and affection is rightly numbered among the religious children of St Paul of the Cross.” And Pius XI in proclaiming her heroic sanctity congratulated “the sons and daughters of St Paul of the Cross on the possession of this true gem of sanctity who would be an additional honour to their Congregation.” Gemma had once described herself as “wandering like a soul that had gone astray”: her long cherished vocation was at last realized and perhaps no vocation ever cost a more painful sacrifice.

Gemma’s whole life indeed was one long uninterrupted sacrifice of the most heroic kind. To a worldly mi nd such a life of suffering may seem an irritating and insoluble mystery. There is one secret which fully explains it. From her earliest childhood the contemplation of Jesus Crucified filled her with a sense of her own sinfulness and a desire to atone for it, and then to be associated with Him in His sufferings and to share them in expiation of the sins of the world. To win souls for Jesus through prayer and suffering was the one passion of her life. Even as a child at school, her teacher says, “Gemma suffered because sin was committed. I remember that when she was quite a small child she grieved if any of her companions acted wrongly. . . . She prayed much, but especially for poor sinners, and offered for them such mortifications as a child can perform.” It was the feature of her life which the witnesses to her sanctity invariably singled out as characteristic of her. “She was specially attracted to pray for poor sinners.” “She was much afflicted by the thought of the sins committed in the world and she often offered herself to God on behalf of sinners.” “She would gladly have gone through the world . . . to work for the extension of Christ’s kingdom by converting pagans, heretics, and sinners.” “The sins of mankind and the insults these offences offered to Jesus were an acute and constant source of suffering to Gemma.” She was often heard in ecstasy pleading for sinners and even offering her life for them. “What dost thou wish, O Jesus? . . . My life? It is Thine . . . I have already offered it to Thee. Wilt thou be pleased if I offer it again as a victim in expiation for my sins and those of all sinners? If I had a hundred lives I would give every one of them to Thee.”

And in her letters she frequently returns to the same thought: “What is sweeter than to be filled with the thought of Jesus and to kneel before that Divine Victim of love and sorrow-a Victim for my sins, for my salvation and for the salvation of souls?” “I should willingly give every drop of my blood to please Him and to prevent sinners offending Him.” “I shall be satisfied only when I am a victim-may it be soon-to make reparation for my innumerable sins and for the sins of all the world.” She did not confine herself to intercession for sinners in general, but almost constantly “carried on her shoulders,” as she would say, some obstinate sinner for whom she was asked to pray. And endless conversions were wrought by her prayers, from the dying man that refused to receive the Last Sacraments, who was converted by her prayers as a child at school, to the notorious sinner of Lucca whose conversion was announced to her the day before she died. Her sufferings were not meaningless, nor merely a personal discipline: they were the instrument of a great apostolate for the sanctification of souls, and especially for the conversion of sinners, that drew all its inspiration and all its virtue from her continual union with Jesus Crucified.

Gemma had offered herself to God as a victim in expiation of the sins of men, and her offering had been accepted. She had shared in all the sufferings of Jesus except one-the last and greatest, the agony and dereliction of His last hours on the Cross. Terribly as she had hitherto suffered in soul and body her suffering had been in secret, and her life was more like Gethsemani than Calvary. After her miraculous cure her health had been perfectly normal, and no one would have suspected that the strong, healthy girl was enduring the tortures of a living martyrdom. But the moment came when her sufferings could no longer be hidden: it was the immolation of the victim. At Pentecost, 1902, she was suddenly stricken with a mysterious illness which lasted, with one short interval, for the remaining nine months of her life. She could not taste any food, her body was torn with the most violent pains, and she was reduced to a skeleton. At first she managed to drag herself to church, with the aid of her friend Cecilia, for Mass and Holy Communion, but this consolation soon had to be abandoned. Doctors were called in, but disagreed in their diagnosis and for the most part confessed themselves baffled by the mysterious nature of her disease. The pains which racked her body without ceasing were aggravated by furious assaults of the devil on her body and her soul, so fiendish and continuous that she imagined herself possessed and begged to be exorcized. Her heroic life, all the virtues she had practised, all the divine favours she had received, were now represented to her as an accumulation of hypocrisy and deceit. And during all those months of suffering no ray of divine consolation reached her heart. She continued to pray unceasingly, calling on Jesus and Mary to be with her in this hour of bitter dereliction, and outwardly preserved a serene and unruffled calmness. Of her bodily pains shenever complained but once, when she murmured, “My Jesus, it is more than I can bear”: but when the Sister in attendance on her reminded her that with God’s grace it is possible to bear all things, she never used the words again. On the contrary when the Sister once asked her “If you had your choice which would it be: to go at once to heaven and cease to suffer or to remain here and suffer for the glory of God?” “Better to suffer,” she said, “than go to Heaven when the pain is for Jesus and His glory.”

One last consolation remained to Gemma and of this she was soon to be deprived. Pitiable as was her condition she was at least in the midst of affectionate friends. Some of the doctors, however, were of opinion that her disease was tuberculosis, and Father Germanus was anxious that the children of the family should not be exposed to the danger of infection. It was decided to remove Gemma, much to the disappointment of the Gianninis, who offered strong opposition. Some months passed indeed before they could be induced to consent to it. At last a compromise was made and a room was rented in a neighbouring street from which communication could be held with the Gianninis” home by means of a bell fixed to a cord stretched across an intervening courtyard. Here Gemma was removed on February 24th, making her last sacrifice with a calm resignation that astonished even those who knew her best. She might well say, “I have made a sacrifice of everything-nothing now remains for me but to prepare for death.” Death was not far off. Some two months later, on Good Friday; she entered with outstretched arms into a prolonged ecstasy, nailed, as she said, with Jesus to the Cross. Those who saw her suffering throughout that day and the following night knew that the end was at hand. On Holy Saturday a priest was called and gave her Extreme Unction, and then Gemma was left alone to taste the full bitterness of the desolation of Jesus on Calvary. She had prayed to die in loneliness and her prayer was heard. The end came peacefully when with a look of seraphic joy on her face she gave up her pure soul to God an hour after midday on Holy Saturday, April 11th, 1903.

Gemma Galgani was beatified by Pius XI on May 14th, 1933, and canonized by Pius XII on Ascension Thursday, May 2nd, 1940. Among the vast multitude that filled St Peter’s on the day of her Canonization were thirteen hundred of the citizens of Lucca headed by their archbishop. Many of them had known her, including the numerous members of the Giannini family which had so devotedly befriended her. There too was her youngest sister Angelina sitting by the side of the nun of St. Zita who had taught her as a child and guided her first steps in the path of heroic sanctity.

The feast of St Gemma is kept on 14th of May.

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Saint Gertrude

BY WILFRED H. WOLLEN, B.A

INDEX

In the year 1229, Count Burchard of Mansfield, following the custom of pious nobles of his time, founded near his castle at Mansfield, in Saxony, a community of nuns under the rule of the Cistercian branch of the Benedictine family. (*) Five years later, to secure greater quietness, they removed to Rossdorf finally settling in 1258 at Helfta, near the town of Eisleben. Helfta was a place of great natural charm, a fertile valley rich with meadows and cornfields, watered by a silvery stream-a fit setting for lives graced by the beauty of holiness. At the time of its establishment there, the convent, still in its first fervour and a model of spirituality, was ruled by the saintly Abbess Gertrude of Hackeborn. This remarkable woman had given evidence so early of exceptional spiritual and mental powers that she had been unanimously elected Abbess at the age of nineteen. For forty years she sustained her charge with admirable fitness, charity and zeal, loved by her subjects as a mother. As assistant, she had her sister, St. Mechtilde, who held the important office of cantor, mistress of novices and directress of the schools.

In St. Mechtilde’s care was placed, in 1361, our Saint Gertrude, then a little girl of five. Gertrude was born on the feast of the Epiphany, January 6th, 1256, but her birthplace is unknown, probably it was at some distance from Helfta. The name and rank of her parents are also unrecorded. If not quite of obscure origin, it seems unlikely that her family held a high social position. After entering the school at Helfta she apparently never saw her parents again; perhaps they lived too far away, or possibly she was early left an orphan.

Gertrude was a most attractive child and possessed exceptional abilities which enabled her easily to out-distance her fellow-pupils in study. At that time education in the convent schools of Germany was of a high order. Instruction was not confined by any means to elementary studies; in some cases it extended even to theology. It is no wonder, then, that some of the glories of literature in the Middle Ages emanated from the German convents. At Helfta, the Abbess Gertrude and her sister assiduously promoted the cause of learning among the religious and their pupils. Gertrude became a most proficient Latin scholar. Study, indeed, was with her a passion; caring little for the ordinary distractions of childhood, she devoted to it all the time she could. When she passed in due course from the school into the community this intense interest remained. Later, after what she calls her “conversion,” she felt that her literary studies had occupied too large a place in her life. While careful about the observance of the Rule, the recitation of the Divine Office and her spiritual exercises, she found perhaps a greater attraction in the pleasures of the mind. In her humility, no doubt, she exaggerates the former state of her soul. When she turned from secular studies to sacred, it is certain that the habits of diligence which she had formed in earlier years and the sound foundation of knowledge which she had built up were of incalculable value both to herself and to the Church.

Towards the end of Gertrude’s twenty-fifth year a feeling of strong dissatisfaction with her life seized her. Her pride and joy in study disappeared. She felt isolated, and human consolation seemed of no avail. Then it was that our Lord drew her to Himself and showed her where to find repose. Peace came to her soul on the Monday before the Feast of Purification (Jan. 27th), 1281. When in the middle of the dormitory after Compline on that day, she tells us, she perceived our Lord, in the form of a beautiful youth, standing before her. Tenderly addressing her, He said: “Thy salvation is at hand. Why art thou consumed with grief? Hast thou no counsellor that thou art so changed by sadness?” Then she adds: “As he said these words, although I was certain of my bodily presence in the place of which I have spoken, nevertheless it seemed to me that I was in choir, in that corner where I was accustomed to say my tepid prayers, and there I heard these words: ‘I will save thee and deliver thee; be without fear.’ When He had said this, I saw His fine and delicate Hand take mine, as though solemnly to ratify these promises; then He added: ‘Thou hast licked the earth with My enemies and sucked drops of honey amidst the thorns; return now to Me, and I will inebriate thee with the torrent of My Divine delights.’ While Our Lord thus spoke, I looked and saw between us, that is to say to His right and to my left, a hedge which extended so far that neither in front nor behind could I perceive the end of it. The top of this hedge appeared to bristle with such a mass of thorns that I could see no means of reaching Him. I remained * It seems now to be definitely established that the foundation was not Benedictine, although it may have become so after St. Gertrude’s time. hesitating, carried away by my desire for Our Lord, and was on the point of falling when suddenly taking hold of me, He raised me without any difficulty and placed me by His side. I then recognised in the Hand which had just been given me as a pledge the resplendent jewels of those Sacred Wounds, which have made of no effect the handwriting that was against us.”

Thus took place Gertrude’s “conversion. Divine grace operating on a soul naturally prone to good, had hitherto preserved her from evil. Now, however, nothing less than perfection was her goal. With intense ardour she sought a closer union with God, and having now the support of her Divine Master, she made rapid progress towards that end. It was the Vigil of the Annunciation, 1281, that she felt for the first time that intimate union with God which she so greatly desired and which was to bear such marvellous fruit. While at first she enjoyed special delights only on the days on which she received Holy Communion, yet her ordinary state of union with Our Lord was so constant that nine years afterwards she could tell Him that He had not left her even for a moment, from her conversion until that time, except once for the space of eleven days, on account of a worldly conversation in which she had engaged.

Everything now spoke to her of God. In a charming little picture which she paints of an incident which happened soon after her conversion she shows how the beauties of nature may draw us to Him. “it happened on a certain day,” she says, “between the Resurrection and the Ascension, that I went into the court before Prime, and sitting down near the fountain, began to meditate on the beauty of the place. I was enchanted with the clearness of the flowing stream, the verdure of the trees surrounding the spot, the unrestricted flight of the birds and especially of the doves, but above all by the rare calm of this hidden retreat. I began to ponder in my mind what else I should desire to complete the charms of the place, and I concluded that I should like the presence of a sociable and loving friend, one capable, in a word, of cheering my solitude. Then Thou, O my God, the author of ineffable delights, Who, as I hope, didst prompt me to begin this meditation, didst also make Thyself the end of it, inspiring me with the thought suggested by the stream, that if by continual gratitude I should cause Thy graces to flow back to Thee; if, growing in the love of virtue, I should bring forth, like the trees, the fruit of good works; if, again, despising earthly things, I should fly heavenwards freely like the doves, and if, with my senses stranger to the tumult of exterior distractions, I should devote myself to Thee with all my soul, my heart would become for Thee a habitation full of delight.”

One of the first fruits of Gertrude’s conversion was the readjustment of the relations between her intellectual and her spiritual life. In her case, she considered, the call to perfection involved the abandonment of her once-loved literary studies. The time that she had previously devoted to them she now felt it her duty to give to Holy Scripture and the theologians and Fathers of the Church, her favourites being St. Augustine, St. Gregory the Great and St. Bernard. The literary powers which her previous studies had developed she now put to excellent use by writing simple works for the people, explaining obscure passages of the Bible. Unfortunately all of these writings are lost, although we possess other most valuable works from her pen. She also procured copies of the Holy Scriptures for those who required them, apparently sometimes making transcripts with her own hand, printing yet being unknown.

As Gertrude’s life was that of a simple nun in a contemplative order, it presents to us externally nothing of a startling nature. Her outward life, indeed, was a round of ordinary duties faithfully performed. She held the office of assistant to her former mistress, St. Mechtilde, but at times exterior occupations were given to her, and as the fame of her sanctity spread abroad strangers came to the convent seeking her advice. While she gladly gave her help, intercourse with the world was a real cross to her. “Were I free to choose,” she said to Our Lord, “I would have no other companionship and no other conversation but Thine. I abandon them all to return to Thee, O my Supreme Good and the one joy of my heart and soul.

Her well-informed and eloquent discourses often had striking effects. By her persuasive words, we are told, she would arouse in some the desire for salvation, give light to others whereby they might know God and their own defects, console the afflicted, or excite in other souls the more ardent love of God. A single word of hers, it was said, had more power to touch souls than whole sermons of the most celebrated preachers.

When her sisters in religion came to consult her, she would at any time willingly place herself at their disposal, even forsaking for them the delights of intimate intercourse with Our Lord. She used to say that the favours with which the excessive goodness of God enriched her unworthiness seemed to her like treasures hidden under a rubbishheap when kept to herself, but that immediately she revealed them to others they became like precious stones mounted in pure gold.

Gertrude’s purity of heart was obvious to all who came in contact with her. Indeed the sisters used to say laughingly that she had a heart so pure that it would not be out of place among the relics on the altar. Her biographer relates that an old man of great authority declared that he had never met anyone a greater stranger to every motion of the senses than our saint; and he added that he did not wonder God had chosen to reveal His secret to her before all others; since He says in the Gospel: “Blessed are the clean of heart, for they shall see God.”

Father Faber has said that in the creature humility is the infallible accompaniment of nearness to the Creator. St. Gertrude is a striking example of this truth. She considered no one so vile that he did not appear to her to be a more worthy recipient of God’s gifts than herself. Each fresh access of grace deepened her sense of unworthiness. She recognised that the favours which God showered on His creatures are unmerited gifts. She thought with St. Teresa that “if it seems to us that Our Lord has given us some virtue, we must regard it as a blessing received from Him that He can at any time take away from us.”

It was humility that urged Gertrude to consult others when she was about to undertake anything important, and readily to follow their advice even when it was contrary to her inclinations. It was humility, again, that both kept her for a time from making known her favours and also impelled her to reveal them, for while she feared to attract attention to herself, she felt that God did not give her His revelations for herself alone. An impetuosity natural to her temperament gave her frequent cause for humbling herself. Scrupulously careful herself about observance of the Rule, negligence on the part of others would bring down on them a reproach, sometimes severe. Then she would humbly beg her sisters to implore God to grant her the grace of gentleness and meekness. She endeavoured to obtain from Our Lord complete deliverence from these faults but learned from Him that He leaves these defects to His chosen souls so that they may bear in mind the weakness of their nature and realise that all their purity is only an effect of His free mercy.

As humility is, in the words of St. Augustine, “the love of God reaching to contempt of self,” we should expect to find in one so humble as St. Gertrude an ardent love of God. This, indeed, was one of her most striking characteristics. Her love of God was shown by her complete submission to His will in small things as well as great. Our Lord taught her to make use of all the necessities of life, such as eating, drinking and sleeping, for the praise of God and the salvation of souls, in union with the love with which He had sanctified those actions when on earth. During Mass on a certain Palm Sunday, when she was suffering from extreme weakness, one of the sisters came and begged her to take some food. Her custom was never to take anything until she had heard the Passion. Asking Our Lord what she ought to do, she heard the reply: “ Take this refreshment, my beloved, in union with that love with which I, your Lover, before I suffered on the Cross, refusing to drink the wine mingled with myrrh and gall, after I had tasted it. “ At these words she submitted her will to God and gave Him thanks. Our Lord then showed her His Heart and said: “Behold the cup wherein is preserved the memory of that saying, When He had tasted He would not drink. ‘ In it I present you with the desire which made me refuse to drink the draught in order that it might be reserved for you. Drink it then freely, for I, the experienced Physician, have tasted it, and have prepared it for you as a most salutary potion. The desire of suffering much for men prevented Me from drinking the wine mingled with myrrh and gall that was offered Me . . . With the same love must you, on the contrary, take all that is necessary and profitable, that you may live the longer for My service.

“In the cup offered Me, there are three considerations, and you must do three things in memory thereof. First, you must perform all your actions joyfully for My glory; this is donated by the wine. Secondly, you must make use of the conveniences of life, that you may be able to suffer the longer for My love; this is signified by the myrrh, which preserves from corruption. Thirdly, you must be quite willing for My love to be deprived of the joys of My sweet presence in Heaven and to remain in this vale of misery as long as it pleases Me; this is indicated by the gall. Whenever you use the conveniences of life with this intention, I will regard you as you would a friend who drank all the gall offered you, in order to give you in exchange the sweetest nectar ‘“.

St. Gertrude’s general indifference to the material necessities of every-day life, such as food and clothing, is shown by the manner in which she would choose them. Shutting her eyes, she would take the first object she touched, and then, whatever her natural preference might be, she would regard it with affection as a direct gift from God.

St. Gertrude, as we have seen, did not allow her zeal for God’s service to infringe on the charity which she owed to her neighbour. One of the fruits of her love for God was the compassion which she bestowed for His sake on all those in need or distress. On one occasion we are told that “ Gertrude had risen to say Matins, although in a very weak state, and she had already finished the first Nocturn when another sister who was also ill came to her, and Gertrude charitably began to recite the office with devotion all over again with her. Afterwards at Mass, while she was devoutly meditating on Our Lord, she saw her soul clothed in most wonderful apparel and magnificently adorned with precious stones emitting a marvellous light. Our Lord then made known to her that she had deserved these adornments because in humble charity she had said part of Matins over again with a younger sister, and that her vesture shone with as many ornaments as she had recited words. She then remembered certain negligences which she had not yet confessed on account of the absence of her confessor, and laid her trouble before Our Lord, Who said to her: Why do you bewail your negligences, you who are so gloriously clothed with the robe of charity, which covereth a multitude of sins ? ‘How can I console myself, ‘ she answered, ‘with the thought that charity covers my sins, when I see myself still stained with them?’ Charity not only covers sins,’ replied Our Lord, ‘but like a burning sea consumes within itself and annihilates venial faults and moreover overwhelms the soul with merits.”

St. Gertrude’s compassion for the afflicted extended to all living creatures, and when she saw animals in pain she would feel the deepest pity for them and implore God’s mercy for their sufferings.

Nor did Gertrude’s charity stop at the living; she showed the greatest zeal for the welfare of the Holy Souls in Purgatory. We are told that having offered all her good works on behalf of the soul of a departed Sister in religion, she asked Our Lord, in consequence, frequently to remember in mercy her absolute poverty. “What more can I do,” He replied, “for one who out of charity has thus despoiled herself, than to cover her with My Own garments and work earnestly with her for the speedy regaining of what she has lost by Charity?” “Whereas Thou mayest do,” she answered, “I must nevertheless appear before Thee despoiled of all, for I have renounced future as well as past benefits.” “A mother allows her children who are clothed to sit at her feet,” replied Our Lord, “but she takes one that is barely clad into her arms and warms it in her bosom with her own garments.” And He added, “Seated on the shore of the ocean, are you poorer than those who seat themselves at the source of a little brook?” “That is to say,” explained the chronicler, “those who keep their good works to themselves remain at the source of the brook, but those who in charity and humility despoil themselves of everything, possess God, the inexhaustible ocean of all blessedness.”

St. Gertude’s love of God was supplemented by an unshakable confidence in His goodness. Her confidence in God, to which, indeed, she attributed all her spiritual gifts, enabled her to receive Our Lord frequently in the Blessed Sacrament of His love at a time when frequent Communion was little practised. When some of her companions hesitated through scruples to approach the altar, she would exhort and encourage them and herself set the example. When she read or heard anyone speak of the danger of receiving the Lord’s Body unworthily, she approached the Holy Sacrament with renewed acts of confidence in the goodness of God. If she had omitted to say the prayers which formed her usual preparation for Holy Communion she did not abstain from making her Communion on that account, because she knew that no preparation for so stupendous a Gift could be really adequate. The efforts of man to prepare himself worthily she compared to a drop of water in the vastness of the ocean. Still, having done what she could, she put her trust in God’s infinite goodness and strove to receive the Holy Sacrament with a pure heart and fervent love.

A certain pious person once begged of God in prayer to reveal to him what it was that most pleased Him in St. Gertrude. He was told her liberty of spirit. Liberty of spirit does not mean, as Father Faber points out in praising this virtue of St. Gertrude, negligence, unpunctuality, slovenliness, or caprice, in the spiritual life. Rather it implies a certain broadness of outlook, enabling the eyes of the soul to look behind the creature to the Creator. It is the virtue which pre-eminently informs the Rule of St. Benedict, on which St. Gertrude’s life as a Cistercian religious, was based. St. Gertrude’s liberty of spirit was manifested by her readiness to come to the aid of her neighbour even at the expense of ordinary duties prescribed by the Rule and at the sacrifice of the delights of familiar intercourse with Our Lord; by her frequent Communions in spite of her defects; by her willingness to die even with little or no preparation for death, should God ordain it. The following illustrates this last point in a remarkable way. It once happened that when out walking in the country Gertrude fell from a dangerous height. “Immediately, “writes one of her companions, “feeling great joy, she said in spirit to Our Lord: ‘What happiness would it have been for me, O my beloved Lord, if that fall had been the occasion of my suddenly coming to Thee. ‘ And when we asked her in astonishment if she was not afraid to die without being fortified with the Sacraments of the Church, she replied: ‘Indeed, with my whole heart do I desire to be fortified with the most salutary Sacraments; nevertheless, the will and appointment of my God seem to be the best and most salutary preparation. Therefore, I shall most gladly depart to Him in whatever way He shall wish, either by a sudden or by foreseen death, certain that whatever the manner of my death I shall never lack the mercy of God, without which in either case I know that I cannot possibly be saved.’”

St. Gertude’s liberty of spirit enabled her to perform all her actions for the glory of God. When she had anything to do she carried it out on the spot, in case preoccupation with the matter should prove a hindrance to the service of God. Our Lord revealed to St. Mechtilde that He was pleased by this. He appeared to her, in a vision, seated on a magnificent throne. St. Gertrude seemed to be walking up and down before Him, keeping her eyes fixed on Our Lord and following every motion of His Sacred Heart. When St. Mechtilde expressed her admiration at this sight, Our Lord said to her: “As you see, in walking before Me, My elect acts as though she desires without ceasing the good pleasure of My Heart, and seeks diligently to learn it. When she has found out My will in any matter, she employs all her strength to perform it and soon returns to discover My other desires and execute them faithfully. Thus her whole life redounds to My praise and honour.”

On entering the convent Gertrude had dedicated herself to a life of prayer. Her conversion had confirmed and strengthened her in this resolution. The whole of her life as a contemplative nun was, of course, built round the liturgy of the Church-the Holy Mass and the Divine Office and her writings and visions indicated the extent to which these became absorbed into her very being. They indicate, too, her tender devotion to Our Lord Crucified and her childlike love for his Blessed Mother; but, if one may say so, it was the Sacred Heart of Jesus that made the greatest appeal to her soul. To exhibit the solid foundation in theology and the devotion to the Sacred Heart and thus to prepare the way for its propagation in God’s good time by its apostle, St. Margaret Mary, became, in fact, the mission of this simple religious. With this high vocation in view for her, Our Lord gently led Gertrude through all the stages of the spiritual life to the highest sanctity. Gertrude became the recipient of “extraordinary graces,” graces that is to say, quite apart from those which God has attached to the ordinary Christian acts of prayer, mortification, charity and so on. These extraordinary graces which are thus beyond the will of man to obtain by his own act, are the fruit of what is called the mystical life, whereby the soul learns to know God Himself by attaining a most intimate union with Him. And to these chosen souls, as to St. Gertrude, God sometimes, but not always, grants the favour of visions of His Divine Son and of the saints and angels, as well as supernatural discourse, or revelations.

Although the mystical life cannot be attained to by our own efforts, yet the privilege is granted only to those souls who by their piety and mortification are deemed by God in some sense to deserve it. Such was the fervour of the Helfta Convent that several of the religious reached the holy state. The path to the mystical life was thus made easier for Gertrude by the support and encouragement which she received from those of her companions who had already entered it. Among their number was her former mistress, St. Mechtilde, who was also granted the grace of visions and revelations. Between these two holy religious there existed the strongest possible bonds of confidence and spiritual affection. St. Gertrude had many visions relating to St. Mechtilde’s death and Our Lord prompted her to warn her friend of the time when she ought to receive Extreme Unction.

The lives of some of the greatest mystics, like St. Bernard and St. Teresa, have been as remarkable for their unparralleled activity as for their intense spirituality. St. Gertrude’s mysticism, similarly, was no hindrance to her ordinary exterior life. Once only do we read of its leading her into any appearance of eccentricity. On a certain occasion, during Mass, she was so carried away by the delights of the intimate intercourse with Our Lord that she neglected to conform to the ordinary movements of the choir. One of the sisters having drawn attention to it, she begged and obtained from Our Lord the favour of deliverance in future from all such singularity.

In order to test the souls of those who aspire to a close union with Him in the mystical life, God makes a condition of their progress the acceptance of trials, disappointments and acute bodily suffering. Unlike another soul dear to the Sacred Heart- St. Margaret Mary-St. Gertrude was spared the bitter pains of opposition from her superiors, who always gave her, indeed, their warmest sympathy. Some misunderstanding she was to encounter from her sisters within the convent, but her greatest suffering arose from the physical maladies with which she became afflicted. Not long after her conversion she received from Our Lord the impressions of the stigmata-His Five Sacred Wounds. These were imprinted interiorly on her heart and thus, unlike those of St. Francis and many other saints, were invisible to others: nevertheless, they united her intimately to the sufferings of Christ and thenceforward she was to tread the Way of the Cross.

In the eighth year after her conversion she was attacked by the first of a series of severe illnesses which did not cease until her death. “On the Feast of the most holy Purification,” she tells us, “I was confined to bed after a severe illness, and about daybreak was sorrowfully complaining of myself that my sickness would deprive me of the Divine visit with which I had often been consoled on such Feasts. I received consolation from the Mediatrix, Mother of Him Who is the true Mediator between God and man. ‘You do not remember,’ she said, ‘having experienced before this, bodily sufferings more severe; but I learn that you have never received a more noble gift from My Son than the one that is to be given you, and it is in order that you may receive it worthily that your soul has been fortified by sufferings. ‘ I was much comforted by these words and received the Food of Life immediately before the Profession. As I was meditating on the presence of God within me, I beheld my soul in the likeness of wax carefully softened at the fire, presented to the bosom of Our Lord as though to a seal of which it was to receive the impression. Suddenly this Divine Seal seemed to be placed upon it, and my soul appeared to be drawn into the treasure house in which the whole fulness of the Godhead dwells corporeally, there to be marked with the impression of the resplendent and everpeaceful Trinity.

After this, Gertrude’s ill-health was often so severe that she had to be dispensed from strict observance of the Rule. She was unable to fast, even during Lent; indeed, she sometimes could not get through the night without taking nourishment. We have seen already that she was obliged in times of great weakness to take sustenance during a long ceremony. She was once absent from the choir for a whole year. Even when not too ill to attend, she often had to remain seated during the Office. At first she found her inability to fulfil her religious obligations a serious trial. When, lying sick and helpless, she was forced to accept the services of her sisters-services joyously rendered -she used to feel that she was robbing God of times which she would otherwise have been able to devote to His service. Gradually, however, she learnt from Our Lord to regard herself and her own efforts as nothing. The following vision shows how completely Gertrude resigned herself to the Divine Will even to the extent of indifference to sickness or health.

Once, when very ill, she began to wonder how her malady would terminate. Our Lord then appeared to her, bearing health in His right Hand and sickness in His left. He presented them to her so that she might choose which she preferred; but Gertrude refused both. Tenderly embracing her, Our Lord allowed her to rest upon His Sacred Heart, but she turned her head away from Him, saying that she wished to show Him that it was her desire that He should disregard her will, but accomplish His good pleasure in her in all things.

To complete the union between Himself and His chosen one, Our Lord drew Gertrude mystically within His Sacred Heart. At Matins on one Feast of the Dedication of the Church, we are told that Our Lord “ introduced her into a place of incomparable splendour-the Heart of Jesus Christ, which He had adorned as a house that she might celebrate the Feast therein. The marvellous profusion of delights which she found on entering seemed to overcome her and she said to Our Lord: ‘My Lord, if Thou hast led my soul into some place where Thy Feet had stood, it would have been more than enough for me; but what can I offer Thee in return for the stupendous favour which Thou art now bestowing on me?” ‘Since you often seek, ‘ Our Lord replied, ‘to offer Me the most noble part of your being- your heart-I deem it fitting that I should present you Mine for your delight. . . .”If my heart, ‘ she said, ‘ has conformed itself in any way to Thine, O my God, it has been by Thy grace.’ ‘I naturally follow,’ Our Lord answered, ‘ and reward with happiness those souls whom I have previously prepared. If anyone co-operates with My grace according to the good pleasure of My Heart, I conform Myself in turn to all the good pleasure of his Heart.’”

Thus was effected a spiritual marriage which marked a new stage in the relations between our saint and her Divine Lover, the highest that the creature can reach in this life. Gertrude was now sometimes deprived of the sensible presence of Our Lord, but her union with Him was so complete that she felt no pain at the loss of His visits. She asked Him why He no longer visited her in the same way as before. “At first I often instructed you,” He answered, “by means of replies which allowed you to make known My good pleasure to others; but now I manifest my operations to your intellect only, because it would sometimes be very difficult to explain them in words. I store up the riches of My grace in your soul as in a treasure- house, so that everyone may find in you what he seeks. You are thus like a wife who knows all the secrets of her husband, and having lived a long time with him knows how to divine his will in everything. Nevertheless, it would not be fitting that the secrets learnt through such intimacy should be revealed.”

St. Gertrude’s ill-health was not the only trial of her comparatively peaceful life. The close relations which existed in the Middle Ages between convents and the families of their founders were not always to the advantage of the religious. Heirs were sometimes apt to grudge the loss of property through religious benefactions and to express their chagrin in no gentle fashion. In 1284 the community at Helfta was subject to much annoyance on the part of one of the sons of the founder, a brother, indeed, to the Abbess who succeeded Gertrude of Hackeborn. On Good Friday he sacrilegiously invaded the convent with an armed force. Ten years later a similar desecration took place as a result of a war which was devastating the whole country. A fresh misfortune befell them in 1296. Differences had arisen between the convent and the Chapter of Halberstadt on some financial position. The episcopal see falling vacant the canons seized the opportunity of launching an interdict on the nuns, who suffered greatly from the deprivation of Mass and Holy Communion and the suspensions of the public recital of the Divine Office. Fortunately the dispute appears to have been quickly settled, and cordial relations were soon established between the community and the new Bishop. None of the convent’s external affairs was without its interest for Gertrude, and at this time of intense anxiety she prayed with great earnestness for a happy solution of its difficulties.

But greater than any of these calamities was the blow that befell Gertrude and her sister when their beloved Abbess died in 1291.To a fervent and united family like that of Helfta the loss of their Mother seemed an irreparable disaster. For forty years she had directed them in the way of sanctity, building up a household brightly conspicuous for its zeal and piety. A confirmed invalid during the last months of her life, the Abbess derived much spiritual consolation from St. Gertrude, especially at those times when her own sister, St. Mechtilde, was too ill to attend her. After the saintly Abbess’s death, Gertrude was able to bring joy to the sorrowing hearts of her companions by relating to them the visions she had had of their mother in heavenly glory.

Eight years after the departure of Abbess Gertrude, her sister, St. Mechtilde, passed away after much suffering. Her visions and revelations were written down without her knowledge by St. Gertrude, her dear friend and former pupil, with the assistance possibly, of another nun also in her confidence. This record is entitled: “The Book of Special Grace.” It was not the first work of St. Gertrude’s, dealing with miraculous favours. She had previously written an account of the graces she had herself received in a book which Our Lord told her to name “The Herald of Divine Love.” In her humility she felt that her favours could not have been granted her for herself alone, and that God must wish to use her as a channel to communicate them to others. Yet for a long time she hesitated about writing on the subject. She wondered what would be the use of it. She was determined not to allow anything she might write concerning her visions to circulate during her lifetime, and she doubted if anyone would benefit by reading about them after her death. Moreover, she was afraid that some narrow-minded persons, so far from being edified at learning of her favours, would find in them a pretext for calumny. We are told that Our Lord thus answered her thoughts: “I have given you My grace in such abundance that I must exact more fruit from it. That is why I desire that those who are granted like gifts and through negligence undervalue them, when they hear of you will recollect the gifts they have themselves received and redouble their thankfulness for them, and thus My grace will be increased in them. “Finally, Our Lord overcame all Gertrude’s scruples by saying to her: “Be assured that you will not quit the prison of your body until you have paid your debts to the last farthing.” Her desire to see Christ face to face was too strong to make further resistance possible. She then wrote with her own hand in Latin the second part of “The Herald of Divine Love,” describing with easy grace the revelation she had received. After a time she laid aside her pen, as in her great humility she thought herself unequal to the task of giving human expression to celestial glories. She considered that another might be more skilful than herself in finishing what she had begun, and one of her sisters in religion was ordered by her superiors to write down what Gertrude would reveal. To the autobiography thus completed by dictation a short life of the saint was prefixed after her death, and the whole work, in five parts, then went by the title “The Herald of Divine Love,” which originally applied only to St. Gertrude’s contributions. Through St. Gertrude Our Lord made the following promises to readers of her book: “. . . . he who reads this book for My glory, with a right faith, humble devotion and loving gratitude, and seeks therein the good of his soul, will obtain the remission of his venial sins and be granted the grace of spiritual consolation and in addition the disposition to receive an increase of grace.”

St. Gertrude has been called the Saint of the Humanity of Jesus Christ, as St. Catherine of Genoa was the Saint of His Sacred Heart, “the symbol of that immense charity which urged the Word to take flesh, to institute the Holy Eucharist, to take on Himself our sins, and dying on the Cross, to offer Himself as a Victim and a sacrifice to the Eternal Father.” Down to the time of St. Gertrude there had been few to sound the praises of the Sacred Heart. Allusions to It indeed, are to be found in the Works of the Fathers of the Church, especially in St. Bernard, the illustrious Abbot of Clairvaux, whom St. Gertrude as a Cistercian venerated as a second founder of her Order, and for whose writings she had especial affection. But St. Gertrude gathered more knowledge of the Sacred Heart and Its love for men from the many years of intimate companionship with her revered mistress, St. Mechtilde. In “The Book of Special Grace,” the Sacred Heart is a constantly recurring theme. The knowledge of the Sacred Heart granted to St. Mechtilde and to some other elect souls, however, was a “special grace” for those souls alone. To St. Gertrude the revelation was made that it might be scattered broadcast to all men, and the chief source of her profound apprehension of the doctrine of the Sacred Heart was that Heart Itself, which willed that St. Gertrude with her sound foundation of learning should be Its theologian.

In her vision St. Gertrude reveals to us in a series of marvellous parables different aspects of the Divine Heart of Jesus Christ as the source of His infinite love for man. She thus prepared the way for the propagation of the devotion to the Sacred Heart by St. Margaret Mary nearly four centuries later and for its official recognition by the Church in the establishment of the Feast of the Sacred Heart. Then was put into operation one of the most powerful means that God had devised for drawing souls to Him, and Ireland, which cherishes a particular affection for this devotion, to-day one of the most striking characteristics of its religion, should hold in special veneration the forerunner St. Gertrude, who illuminated the path that St. Margaret Mary was to tread.

A few of St. Gertrude’s visions we have already mentioned; some of the most beautiful are unfortunately too long in their panoramic unfolding of heavenly scenes to be included in this brief sketch. But we shall be able to consider a few of the many visions scattered through “ The Herald of Divine Love “ which have the Sacred Heart for their theme. In one she tells how Our Lord appeared to her during a certain Lent when she was lying seriously ill. “I was alone one morning,” she said, “while the other sisters were attending to their duties, when Our Lord, Who does not abandon those who are deprived of human consolation, appeared to me, thus fulfilling the word of the prophet, I am with him in tribulation. ‘He showed me His left Side, from which gushed forth, as from the inmost depths of His Sacred Heart, a fountain of pure water, which appeared solid like crystal. Flowing away, it covered His holy bosom like a costly necklace, which seemed to alternate in colour between gold and purple. Meanwhile Our Lord thus spoke to me:’ The illness from which you are now suffering has so sanctified your soul that whenever for My love or in condescension to your neighbour you seem to forsake Me in thought, word, or deed, you will in reality no more withdraw yourself from Me than this fountain withdraws itself from My Heart. And as the gold and purple shine through the pure crystal, so the co-operation of My Divinity, shown forth by the bold and the perfect patience of My Humanity, represented by the purple, will render all your actions agreeable in My eyes.’”

Once when the saint was praying for certain persons who had been recommended to her prayers, Our Lord, we are told, said to her: “I have given to every soul a golden tube by means of which it can draw from the depths of My Divine Heart whatever it desires.” She understood that this tube signified the good will with which men can appropriate for themselves all the spiritual riches of heaven and earth. If they wish, for example, to offer to God the praises, thanksgivings, obedience and fidelity of which some saints have given us an example, the infinite goodness of God immediately accepts the intention for the deed. This tube becomes more brilliant than gold when men thank God for the gift of so noble a faculty as the will, by which they may acquire infinitely greater riches than the whole world could obtain by exerting all its strength.

She understood further that all the sisters of the community who were surrounding Our Lord, were provided with tubes, and that each received Divine grace according to the measure of her powers. Some appeared to draw it directly from the depths of the Divine Heart, others received it from Our Lord’s Hands. The further the source of grace from Our Lord’s Heart, the greater was their difficulty in obtaining their desires, whereas the nearer this source was to His Heart the more easily, sweetly, and abundantly they obtained them. Those who drew directly from Our Lord’s Heart represented those who conform themselves entirely to the Divine Will and desire above all things that His adorable will should be fully accomplished in them, both in spiritual and temporal affairs. These souls move the Divine Heart so profoundly and effectively that at the time ordained by God they receive the torrent of Divine sweetness with abundance and pleasure proportioned to the extent that they will have abandoned themselves perfectly to the Divine will. Those who endeavour to draw grace from the other members of Our Lord’s Body represent those who try to obtain gifts or virtues by following their inclinations and their own will: and these obtain their desires with difficulty proportioned to their failure, in relying on their own will, to abandon themselves to Divine Providence.

On Christmas Day Our Lord taught St. Gertrude how acceptable to Him is the good-will of those devout souls who are lawfully hindered from offering Him all the devotions their hearts desire. During Midnight Mass she offered to Our Lord, as she had been requested, the prayers of certain persons which had been made before the Feast, together with the good-will of others who had been legitimately prevented from offering those prayers. She then saw all the prayers which had been devoutly said laid before Our Lord in the form of costly pearls, on a table of gold; but the good-will of those who had been unable to carry out their intentions was placed in a magnificent chain which adorned Our Lord’s bosom. “ These souls, “ we are told, “ thus obtained from this nearness to the Divine Heart an advantage like that possessed by a person who holds the key of a treasure-chest from which he can take all that he can desire. “

Our Lord also taught St. Gertrude how He offers the love of His Sacred Heart to the Eternal Father for the omission of faithful souls who seek to repair their neglect. The Passion was, naturally, a frequent subject of meditation with St. Gertrude. But on a certain Friday evening she remembered that her occupations had crowded out the thought of the sufferings of her Saviour on the very day of the week when she most wished to remember them. When she lamented her negligence before a crucifix, Our Lord consoled her thus: “What you have neglected I have supplied for you; for every hour I have accumulated in My Heart what you ought to have accumulated in yours, and My Heart has become so full that I have waited with an ardent desire for the hour when you should address this prayer to Me. With this prayer I now offer to God My Father all that I have done for you during this day, for without your good intentions this offering of Mine would not be so advantageous for your salvation.”

In another vision St. Gertrude learnt that the grace of the Holy Ghost flows into the hearts of the faithful through the Sacred Heart of Jesus. “On the Vigil of Pentecost,” we are told, “as she was fervently praying during the Office that she might be prepared for the coming of the Holy Ghost, she heard Our Lord say to her interiorly, with infinite tenderness: You shall receive the power of the Holy Ghost coming upon you. ‘ These words brought her a feeling of wondrous sweetness, yet she began desponding to consider her unworthiness. It then seemed to her that this feeling of unworthiness produced a kind of cave in her heart, which became deeper and deeper as she considered herself more and more vile. Then from the most sweet Heart of the Son of God there flowed a stream most pure, like honey, which trickled drop by drop into the cave of her heart until it was completely filled. She understood that this stream represented the sweetness of the Holy Spirit which gently flows into the hearts of the elect through the Heart of the Son of God.”

At another time Our Lord showed His Sacred Heart to our Saint under the form of a lyre which offered sweet music to the Blessed Trinity. “When Vespers were begun,” on a certain Feast of the Holy Trinity, “the Son of God offered His Sacred Heart to the glorious Trinity, holding It in His Hands in the form of a lyre, upon which all the fervour of the worshippers and all the words which were chanted through the whole of the Feast resounded most melodiously before God. The singing of those who chanted without special devotion, either by routine or with merely human satisfaction, produced unpleasing sounds on the lower strings of the instrument. But those who gave themselves up to singing devoutly the praise of the adorable Trinity, seemed to produce through the most holy Heart of Jesus Christ sweet and melodious strains upon the most sonorous strings.” Again, at Lauds on the same Feast, while the Antiphon was being sung, “Gertude praised with all her soul the Ever- Blessed Trinity, desiring that if it were possible, she should sing the Antiphon in her last agony with fervour sufficient to consume her forces and cause her to die praising God; and it seemed that the resplendent and ever-peaceful Trinity inclined with loving tenderness to the most venerable Heart of Jesus, which like a marvellous lyre sweetly resounded in Its presence. On this lyre the Blessed Trinity placed three strings, which in harmony with the invincible omnipotence of God the Father, the wisdom of God the Son, and the benevolence of God the Holy Ghost, might atone without ceasing for all Gertrude’s defects in pleasing the Most Blessed Trinity.”

On another occasion, during Vespers of the Assumption, St. Gertrude, we are told, was privileged to make mystical use of the lyre of the Blessed Heart to sound the praise of Our Lady. While the psalms were being sung she saw Our Lord first draw into His Divine Heart all the praises addressed to Him and then pour them forth in a stream towards the holy Mother of God. At the chanting of the Antiphon, Gertrude rushed into Our Lord’s arms and tried to make these words resound on the instrument of His Sacred Heart, in honour of the tenderness which He had lavished on His Blessed Mother. This demonstration of love caused the torrents from the Sacred Heart to gush forth upon Our Lady’s soul with such force that drops of water sprang out from the stream. These drops, becoming brilliant stars of incomparable beauty, served as an adornment for the Queen of Heaven; but so numerous were they that many fell to the ground, whereupon the Saint found delight in hastening to gather and present them to Our Lord. By this time St. Gertrude understood that the saints experience the greatest joy in the superabundance of Our Lady’s merits.

In another marvellous vision Our Lord presented St. Gertrude with His Sacred Heart under the form of a burning lamp. On a certain occasion, during the recitation of the Divine Office, we are told that “ when she was endeavouring to pay the greatest attention to every note and word, she was often hindered by natural weakness, and grieving at her failure, she said to herself: ‘ What fruit can I obtain from this exercise in which I show such inconsistency ? ‘ Our Lord, being unable to endure the sight of her affliction, with His Hands presented her with His Divine Heart in the form of a burning lamp, saying to her: ‘ Behold I offer to the eyes of your soul My Heart, the sweet organ of the EverAdorable Trinity, that you may with confidence ask It to perform all that you are unable to perform yourself, and thus you will appear perfect in My eyes. For just as a faithful servant is always in readiness to carry out the wishes of his master, so My Heart will henceforth be always ready at any moment to make good your negligence. . . .”

Some days afterwards, while she was reflecting upon this magnificent gift, she anxiously enquired of Our Lord how long He would deign to continue the favour, ‘As long as you desire to have it,’ He replied, you will never have to grieve that I have taken it away. “But how is it possible,’ she said, O God, Who workest the greatest marvels, that I can perceive that Thy Divine Heart is suspended like a lamp in the midst of my heart, which is alas ! so unworthy, and nevertheless whenever by the help of Thy grace I have been counted worthy to approach Thee, I rejoice to find within Thy bosom the same source of all delights?’ ‘When you wish to take hold of anything,’ Our Lord replied, ‘you stretch out your hand, withdrawing it after you have clasped what you wanted; so also, when you turn your attention to exterior things, I, in My extreme love for you, stretch out to you My Heart to draw you to Myself; and when you respond to My tender advance and recollect yourself, I withdraw My Heart and you with It, offering you in Its recesses the delights of all virtues.’”

During the Mass of the Presanctified on a certain Good Friday, Our Lord gave St. Gertrude His Sacred Heart under the form of a golden thurible, from which as many clouds of incense rose as there are races of men redeemed by the Precious Blood. When the prayers were offered for the different orders in the Church, St. Gertrude saw all the prayers of the whole Church ascend together like fragrant incense from the thurible of the Sacred Heart, This union gave the prayers a singular splendour and beauty. “We should therefore pray for the Church on this day, with greater devotion,” says “The Herald of Divine Love,” “because it is Christ’s Passion which gives our prayers their greatest value in the sight of God the Father.”

A wonderful vision is recorded in which St. Gertrude assisted at a mystical Mass in Heaven while the priest was offering the Holy Sacrifice in the convent church. Our Lord, true Priest and Supreme Pontiff, was the celebrant; the saints and heavenly hosts acted as ministers and choir. At the elevation of the host on earth, Our Lord in Heaven rose from His throne and presented to God the Father, with His Own Hands, His Sacred Heart under the form of a golden altar. Thus St. Gertrude learnt that the sacred liturgy links Heaven and earth, the Church doing for Christian souls below what the Saviour does above. The oneness of the spiritual life on earth and in Heaven is indeed the supreme lesson of St. Gertrude’s mysticism and the key to many of her visions. “She soars to Heaven,” says Aubrey de Vere in the course of a beautiful panegyric on St. Gertrude, to fmd there in a resplendent form, the simplest of those truths which are our food on earth . . . Her special gift was realisation; what others admitted, she believed; what others believed, she saw. It was thus that she felt the co-presence of the supernatural with the natural, the kingdom of spirit being to her not a future world, but a wider circle clasping a smaller one. From this feeling followed her intense appreciation of the fact that all earthly things have immediate effects on high. If a prayer is said on earth, she sees the sceptre in the hand of the heavenly King blossom with another flower; if a sacrament is worthily received, the glory of His Face flashes lightning round all the armies of the blessed. That such things should be seen by us may well seem wonderful; that they should exist can appear strange to no one who realises the statement that when a sinner repents there is joy among the angels in Heaven.”

Towards the end of St. Gertrude’s life the desire for death which she had often felt but which she had learnt to subordinate to the will of God, became very insistent. On one Feast of St. Martin she felt, like St. Martin himself, a vehement desire to die and be with Christ, and she heard Him say: “Soon I shall bear you away from this life.” These words increased her longing and one day during the following Easter week, just after she had received Our Lord in Holy Communion, He said to her: “Come, my elect, and I will place you in My throne.” She then realised that the day of her release was approaching. Our Lord, indeed, counselled her to prepare for death. She did so by means of an exercise which she had written for the use of others-a kind of five-days’ retreat devoted to the consideration of the last illness, the last sacraments and death itself. But she was not to die before further sufferings were to be added to the many that she had already endured. When she became weaker and the doctors pronounced her malady practically incurable, she increased her prayers and acts of piety, but all the time she did not neglect to console and sustain her sorrowing sisters.

There is no explicit record of St. Gertrude’s actual death, but it was revealed to her during these last days in what manner she was to die. In this vision she beheld herself during her last agony in the arms of Our Lord, reposing on His Sacred Heart. She saw Our Lady tenderly embrace her, and the saints and angels surround her bed and adorn her soul with their gifts. Then she saw Our Lord gently draw her to Himself, “as the sun in its mid-day heat draws to itself and makes to disappear the little drops of dew.” Thus, rapt in ecstasy, we may believe, did she pass to a full and everlasting enjoyment in Heaven of those celestial favours which she had already tasted on earth.

St. Gertrude died on October 17th, 1301 or 1302, aged 45 or 46 years. Her burial-place is unknown, but no doubt she was laid to rest at Helfta, where she had spent nearly the whole of her life. For a long time, in the secret designs of God’s providence, her name remained in obscurity. Before her death, St. Gertrude’s remarkable writings had been submitted by the authorities of Helfta to a thorough examination by theologians of the Dominican and Franciscan Orders, who gave them their entire approbation. Copies of her works were doubtless made from time to time in the monasteries and convents but they did not become generally known until the pious Carthusian Lanspergius, of Cologne, brought out a Latin edition of “The Herald of Divine Love,” in 1536. Only then did St. Gertrude begin to exert an appreciable influence in preparing the ground for the general adoption of the devotion to the Sacred Heart. Her cultus spread. In 1677 her name was inscribed on the Roman Martyrology and her Office was made obligatory on the Universal Church. St. Gertrude was declared Patron of the West Indies, at the petition of the King of Spain. Peru cultivated a particular devotion to her, and in New Mexico a town was built in her honour and named after her. St. Gertrude’s Feast is kept by the Benedictine and Cistercian Orders on November 17th, but by the rest of the Church on November 15th.

Among the countless holy men and women who have felt an especial attention to this saint of the Sacred Heart, the great spiritual writer, Abbot Louis of Blois (or Blosius), occupies a foremost place. He composed in her honour the following prayer, with which we may conclude:

“O sweetest Lord Jesus Christ, I praise Thee and give Thee thanks, with all the devotion of which I am capable, for all the benefits Thou didst bestow on the virgin Gertrude, Thy beloved spouse; and by that love with which Thou didst from eternity choose her out for Thy special favour, and in Thine Own good time didst sweetly attract her and familiarly invite her to Thyself, and joyfully abide in her soul, and end the course of her life by a blessed death, I pray and beseech Thee that Thou wilt have mercy on me, and render me pleasing to Thee, and lead me into eternal life. Amen.”

Nihil Obstat:

JOSEPH P. NEWTH, C.C., Censor Theol. Deput.

Imprimi Potest:

@ IOANNES CAROLUS, Archiep. Dublinen., Hiberniae Primas. Dublini, die 25° Feb., anno 1955.

********

Saint Gregory Nazianzen, B. C.

INDEX

DOCTOR OF THE CHURCH-328–389 A D

From his own works, and other monuments of that age. See Gregory of Caesarea, who writ his life in 940; Hermant, Tillemont, t. ix., Ceillier, t. vii.; also the life of this saint, compiled from his works by Baronius, published by Alberici, in an appendix to the life and letters of that cardinal, in 1759, t. ii.]

St Gregory who, from his profound skill in sacred learning, is surnamed the Theologian, was a native of Arianzum, an obscure village in the territory of Nazianzum, a small town in Cappadocia not far from Caesarea His parents are both honoured in the calendars of the church: his father on the 1st of January and his mother Nonna on the 5th of August. She drew down the blessing of heaven upon her family by most bountiful and continual alms-deeds, in which she knew one of the greatest advantages of riches to consist; yet, to satisfy the obligation of justice which she owed to her children, she by her prudent economy improved at the same time their patrimony. The greatest part of her time she devoted to holy prayer; and her respect and attention to the least thing which regarded religion is not to be expressed. His father, whose name also was Gregory, was from his infancy a worshipper of false gods, but of the sect called the Hipsistarii, on account of the profession they made of adoring the Most High God. The prayers and tears of Nonna at length obtained of God the conversion of her husband, whose integrity in the discharge of the chief magistracy of his town and the practice of strict moral virtue prepared him for such a change. His son has left us the most edifying detail of his humility, holy zeal, and other virtues.[1] He had three children, Gorgonia, Gregory, and Caesarius, who was the youngest. Gregory was the fruit of the most earnest prayers of his mother who, upon his birth, offered him to God for the service of his church. His virtuous parents gave him the strongest impressions of piety in his tender age; and his chief study, from his very infancy, was to know God by the help of pious books, in the reading whereof he was very assiduous.

Having acquired grammar-learning in the schools of his own country, and being formed to piety by domestic examples, he was sent to Caesarea, in Palestine, where the study of eloquence flourished. He pursued the same studies some time at Alexandria, and there embarked for Athens in November. The vessel was beaten by a furious storm during twenty days, without any hopes either for the ship or passengers; all which time he lay upon the deck, bemoaning the danger of his soul on account of his not having been as yet baptized, imploring the divine mercy with many tears and loud groans, and frequently renewing his promise of devoting himself entirely to God in case he survived the danger. God was pleased to hear his prayer: the tempest ceased and the vessel arrived safe at Rhodes, and soon after at Aegina, an island near Athens. He had passed through Caesarea of Cappadocia in his road to Palestine; and making some stay there to improve himself under the great masters of that city, had contracted an acquaintance with the great St. Basil, which he cultivated at Athens, whither that saint followed him soon after. The intimacy between these two saints became from that time the most perfect model of holy friendship, and nothing can be more tender than the epitaph which St. Gregory composed upon his friend. Whilst they pursued their studies together, they shunned the company of those scholars who sought too much after liberty, and conversed only with the diligent and virtuous. They avoided all feasting and vain entertainments; and were acquainted only with two streets, one that led to the church and the other to the schools. Riches they despised and accounted as thorns, employing their allowance in supplying themselves with bare necessaries for an abstemious and slender subsistence, and disposing of the remainder in behalf of the poor. Envy had no place in them; sincere lovemade each of them esteem his companion’s honour and advantage as his own; they were to each other a mutual spur to all good, and by a holy emulation neither of them would be outdone by the other in fasting, prayer, or the exercise of any virtue. Saint Basil left Athens first. The progress which St. Gregory made here in eloquence, philosophy, and the sacred studies appears by the high reputation which he acquired, and by the monuments which he has left behind him. But his greatest happiness and praise was, that he always made the love and fear of God his principal affair, to which he referred his studies and all his endeavours. In 355 Julian, afterwards emperor, came to Athens, where he spent some months with St. Basil and St. Gregory in the study of profane literature and the holy scriptures. St. Gregory then prognosticated what a mischief the empire was breeding up in that monster-from the levity of his carriage, the rolling and wandering of his eyes, the fierceness of his looks, the tossing of his head, the shrugging up of his shoulders, his uneven gait, his loud and unseasonable laughter, his rash and incoherent discourse-the indications of an unsettled and arrogant mind.[2] The year following, our saint left Athens for Nazianzum and took Constantinople in his way. Here he found his brother Gesarius arrived not long before from Alexandria, where he had accomplished himself in all the polite learning of that age and applied himself particularly to physic. The Emperor Constantius honoured him with his favour and made him his chief physician. His generosity appeared I in this station by his practice of physic, even among the rich, without the inducement of either fee or reward. He was also a father to the poor, on whom he bestowed the greatest part of his income. Gregory was importuned by many to make his appearance at the bar, or at least to teach rhetoric, as that which would afford him the best means to display talents and raise his fortune in the world. But he answered that he totally devoted himself to the service of God.

The first thing he did after his return to Nazianzum was to fulfil his engagement of consecrating himself entirely to God by receiving baptism at the hands of his father. This he did without reserve: “I have,” says he,[3] “given all I have to him from whom I received it, and have taken him alone for my whole possession. I have consecrated to him my goods, my glory, my health, my tongue, and talents. All the fruit I have received from these advantages has been the happiness of despising them for Christ’s sake.” From that moment never was man more dead to ambition, riches, pleasures, or reputation. He entertained no secret affection for the things of this world, but trampled under his feet all its pride and perishable goods; finding no ardour, no relish, no pleasure but in God and in heavenly things. His diet was coarse bread, with salt and water.[4] He lay upon the ground; wore nothing but what was coarse and vile. He worked hard all day, spent a considerable part of the night in singing the praises of God, or in contemplation.[5] With riches he contemned also profane eloquence, on which he had bestowed so much pains, making an entire sacrifice of it to Jesus Christ. His classics and books of profane oratory he abandoned to the worms and moths.[6] He regarded the greatest honours as vain dreams, which only deceive men, and dreaded the precipices down which ambition drags its inconsiderate slaves. Nothing appeared to him comparable to the life which a man leads who is dead to himself and his sensual inclinations; who lives as it were out of the world, and has no other conversation but with God.[7] However, he for some time took upon him the care of his father’s household and the management of his affairs. He was afflicted with several sharp fits of sickness, caused by his extreme austerities and continual tears, which often did not suffer him to sleep.[8] He rejoiced in his distempers, because in them he found the best opportunities of mortification and self-denial.[9] The immoderate laughter, which his cheerful disposition had made him subject to in his youth, was afterwards the subject of his tears. He obtained so complete a conquest over the passion of anger as to prevent all indeliberate motions of it, and became totally indifferent in regard to all that before was most dear to him. His generous liberality to the poor made him always as destitute of earthly goods as the poorest, and his estate was common to all who were in necessity, as a port is to all at sea.[10] Never does there seem to have been a greater lover of retirement and silence. He laments the excesses into which talkativeness draws men, and the miserable itch that prevails in most people to become teachers of others.[11]

It was his most earnest desire to disengage himself from the converse of men and the world, that he might more freely enjoy that of heaven. He accordingly, in 358, joined St. Basil in the solitude into which he had retreated, situate near the river Iris, in Pontus. Here, watching, fasting, prayer, studying the holy scriptures, singing psalms, and manual labour employed their whole time. As to their exposition of the divine oracles, they were guided in this not by their own lights and particular way of thinking, but, as Rufinus writes,[12] by the interpretation which the ancient fathers and doctors of the church had delivered concerning them. But this solitude Gregory enjoyed only just long enough to be enamoured of its sweetness, being soon recalled back by his father, then above eighty, to assist him in the government of his flock. To draw the greater succour from him he ordained him priest by force and when he least expected it. This was performed in the church on some great festival, and probably on Christmas Day in 361. He knew the sentiments of his son with regard to that charge, and his invincible reluctance on several accounts, which was the reason of his taking this method. The saint accordingly speaks of his ordination as a kind of tyranny which he knew not well how to digest; in which sentiments he flew into the deserts of Pontus and sought relief in the company of his dear friend St. Basil, by whom he had been lately importuned to return. Many censured this his flight, ascribing it to pride, obstinacy, and the like motives. Gregory likewise, himself, reflecting at leisure on his own conduct and the punishment of the prophet Jonas for disobeying the command of God, came to a resolution to go back to Nazianzum; where, after a ten weeks’ absence, he appeared again on Easter Day, and there preached his first sermon on that great festival. This was soon after followed by another, which is extant, under the title of his apology for his flight.

In this discourse St. Gregory extols the unanimity of that church in faith and their mutual concord; but towards the end of the reign of Julian, an unfortunate division happened in it, which is mentioned by the saint in his first invective against that apostate prince.[13] The bishop, his father, hoping to gain certain persons to the church by condescension, admitted certain writing which had been drawn up by the secret favourers of Arianism in ambiguous and artful terms. This unwary condescension of the elder Gregory gave offence to the more zealous part of his flock, and especially to the monks, who refused thereupon to communicate with him. Our saint discharged his duty so well in this critical affair that he united the flock with their pastor without the least concession in favour of the error of those by whom his father had been tricked into a subscription against his intention and design, his faith being entirely pure. On the occasion of this joyful reunion our saint pronounced an elegant discourse.[14] Soon after the death of Julian he composed his two invective orations against that apostate. He imitates the severity which the prophets frequently made use of in their censure of wicked kings; but his design was to defend the church against the pagans by unmasking the injustice, impiety, and hypocrisy of its capital persecutor. The saint’s younger brother, Caesarius, had lived in the court of Julian, highly honoured by that emperor for his learning and skill in physic. St. Gregory pressed him to forsake the family of an apostate prince, in which he could not live without being betrayed into many temptations and snares.[15] And so it happened; for Julian, after many caresses, assailed him by inveigling speeches, and at length, by a warm disputation in favour of idolatry. Caesarius answered him that he was a Christian, and such he was resolved always to remain. However, apprehensive of the dangers in which he lived, he soon after chose rather to resign his post than to run the hazard of his faith and a good conscience. He therefore left the court, though the emperor endeavoured earnestly to detain him. After the miserable death of the apostate, he appeared again with distinction in the courts of Jovian and Valens, and was made by the latter <Comes rerum privatarum>, or treasurer of the imperial rents, which office was but a step to higher dignities. In the discharge of this employment of Bithynia he happened to be at Nice in the great earthquake, which swallowed up the chief part of that city in 360. The treasurer, with some few others, escaped by being preserved through a wonderful providence in certain hollow parts of the ruins. St. Gregory improved this opportunity to urge him again to quit the world and its honours, and to consecrate to God alone a life for which he was indebted to him on so many accounts.[16] Gesarius, moved by so awakening an accident, listened to his advice and took a resolution to renounce the world; but returning home, fell sick and died in the fervour of his sacrifice, about the beginning of the year 368, leaving his whole estate to the poor.[17] He is named in the Roman Martyrology on the 25th of February. St. Gregory, extolling his virtue, says that whilst he enjoyed the honours of the world he looked upon the advantage of being a Christian as the first of his dignities and the most glorious of all his titles, reckoning all the rest dross and dung. He was buried at Nazianzum, and our saint pronounced his funeral panegyric, as he also did that of his holy sister Gorgonia, who died soon after. He extols her humility; her prayer often continued whole nights with tears; her modesty, prudence, patience, resignation, zeal, respect for the ministers of God and for holy places; her liberality to them and great charity to the poor; her penance, extraordinary care of the education of her children, &c. He mentions as miraculous her being cured of a palsy by praying at the foot of the altar, and her recovery after great wounds and bruises which she had received by a fall from her chariot.

In 372 Cappadocia was divided by the emperor into two provinces, and Tyana made the capital of that which was called the second. Anthimus, bishop of that city, pretended hence to an archiepiscopal jurisdiction over the second Cappadocia. St. Basil, the Metropolitan of Cappadocia, maintained that the civil division of the province had not infringed his jurisdiction, though he afterwards, for the sake of peace, yielded the second Cappadocia to the see of Tyana. He appointed our saint Bishop of Sasima, a small town in that division. Gregory stood out a long time, but at length submitted, overcome by the authority of his father and the influence of his friend. He accordingly received the episcopal consecration from the hands of St. Basil, at Caesarea, about the middle of the year 372. But he repaired to Nazianzum to wait a favourable opportunity of taking possession of his church of Sasima, which never happened; for Anthimus, who had in his interest the new governor, and was master of all the avenues and roads to that town, would by no means admit him. Basil reproached his friend with sloth; but St. Gregory answered him that he was not disposed to fight for a church.[18] He, however, charged himself with the government of that of Nazianzum under his father till his death, which happened the year following. St. Gregory pronounced his funeral panegyric in presence of St. Basil and of his mother, St. Nonna, who died shortly after. Holy solitude had been the constant object of his most earnest desires, and he had only waited the death of his father entirely to bury himself in it. Nevertheless, yielding to the importunities of others and to the necessities of the church of Nazianzum, he consented to continue his care of it till the neighbouring bishops could provide it with a pastor. But seeing this affair protracted, and finding himself afflicted with various distempers, he left that city and withdrew to Seleucia, the metropolis of Isauria, in 375, where he continued five years. The death of St. Basil, in 379, was to him a sensible affliction, and he then composed twelve epigrams or epitaphs to his memory; and some years after pronounced his panegyric at Caesarea, namely, in 381 or 382. The unhappy death of the persecuting emperor Valens, in 378, restored peace to the church. The Catholic pastors sought means to make up the breaches which heresy had made in many places. For this end they held several assemblies and sent zealous and learned men into the provinces in which the tyrant had made the greatest havoc. The church of Constantinople was of all others in the most desolate and abandoned condition, having groaned during forty years under the tyranny of the Arians, and the few Catholics who remained there having been long without a pastor and even without a church wherein to assemble. They, being well acquainted with our saint’s merit, importuned him to come to their assistance, and were backed by several bishops, desirous that his learning, eloquence, and piety might restore that church to its splendour. But such were the pleasures he enjoyed in his beloved retirement at Seleucia, and in his thorough disengagement from the world, that for some time these united solicitations made little or no impression on him. They had, however, at length their desired effect. His body bent with age, his head bald, his countenance extenuated with tears and austerities, his poor garb, and his extreme poverty made but a mean appearance at Constantinople; and no wonder that he was at first ill received in that polite and proud city. The Arians pursued him with calumnies, raillieries, and insults. The prefects and governors added their persecutions to the fury of the populace, all which concurred to acquire him the glorious title of confessor. He lodged first in the house of certain relations, where the Catholics first assembled to hear him. He soon after converted it into a church and gave it the name of Anastasia, or the Resurrection, because the Catholic faith, which in that city had been hitherto oppressed, here seemed to be raised, as it were, from the dead. Sozomen relates that this name was confirmed to it by a miraculous raising to life of a woman then with child, who was killed by falling from a gallery in it, but returned to life by the prayers of the congregation.[19] Another circumstance afterwards confirmed in this church the same name. During the reign of the Emperor Leo the Thracian, about the year 460, the body of St. Anastasia, virgin and martyr, was brought from Sirmich to Constantinople and laid in this place, as is recorded by Theodorus the Reader.[20] But this church is not to be confounded with another of the same name, which was in the hands of the Novatians under Constantius and Julian the Apostate.[21]

In this small church Nazianzen preached, and every day assembled his little flock, which increased daily. The Arians and Apollinarists, joined with other sects, not content to defame and calumniate him, had recourse to violence on his person. They pelted him with stones as he went along the streets, and dragged him before the civil magistrates as a malefactor, charging him with tumult and sedition. But he comforted himself on reflecting that though they were the stronger party he had the better cause; though they possessed the churches, God was with him; if they had the populace on their side, the angels were on his, to guard him. St. Jerome coming out of the deserts of Syria to Constantinople became the disciple and scholar of St. Gregory, and one of those who studied the holy scripture under him, of which that great doctor glories in his writings. Our holy pastor, being a lover of solitude, seldom went abroad or made any visits, except such as were indispensable; and the time that was not employed in the discharge of his functions he devoted to prayer and meditation, spending a considerable part of the night in those holy exercises. His diet was herbs and a little salt with bread. His cheeks were furrowed with the tears which he shed, and he daily prostrated himself before God to implore his light and mercy upon his people. His profound learning, his faculty of forming the most noble conceptions of things, and the admirable perspicuity, elegance, and propriety with which he explained them, charmed all who heard him. The Catholics flocked to his discourses as men parching with thirst eagerly go to the spring to quench it. Heretics and pagans resorted to them, admiring his erudition and charmed with his eloquence. The fruits of his sermons were every day sensible; his flock became in a short time very numerous, and he purged the people of that poison which had corrupted their hearts for many years. St. Gregory heard, with blushing and confusion, the applause and acclamations with which his discourses were received; and his fear of this danger made him speak in public with a certain timidity and reluctance. He scorned to flatter the great ones, and directed his discourses to explain and corroborate the Catholic faith and reform the manners of the people. He taught them that the way to salvation was not to be ever disputing about matters of religion (an abuse that was grown to a great height at that time in Constantinople), but to keep the commandments,[22] to give alms, to exercise hospitality, to visit and serve the sick, to pray, sigh, and weep; to mortify the senses, repress anger, watch over the tongue, and subject the body to the spirit. The envy of the devil and of his instruments could not bear the success of his labours, and by exciting trouble found means to interrupt them. Maximus, a native of Alexandria, a cynic philosopher, but withal a Christian, full of the impudence and pride of that sect, came to Constantinople; and under an hypocritical exterior disguised a heart full of envy, ambition, covetousness, and gluttony. He imposed on several, and for some time on St. Gregory himself, who pronounced an enlogium of this man in 379, now extant, under the title of the Eulogium of the Philosopher Hero; but St. Jerome assures us that instead of Hero we ought to read Maximus. This wolf in sheep’s clothing having gained one of the priests of the city, and some partizans among the laity, procured himself to be ordained Bishop of Constantinople in a clandestine manner, by certain Egyptian bishops who lately arrived on that intent. The irregularity of this proceeding stirred up all the world against the usurper. Pope Damasus writ to testify his affliction on that occasion, and called the election null. The Emperor Theodosius the Great, then at Thessalonica, rejected Maximus with indignation; and coming to Constantinople, proposed to Demophilus, the Arian bishop, either to receive the Nicene faith or to leave the city; and upon his preferring the latter, his majesty, embracing St. Gregory, assured him that the Catholics of Constantinople demanded him for their bishop, and that their choice was most agreeable to his own desires. Theodosius, within a few days after his arrival, drove the Arians out of all the churches in the city and put the saint in possession of the Church of St. Sophia, upon which all the other churches of the city depended. Here the clamours of the people were so vehement that Gregory might be their bishop that all was in confusion till the saint prevailed upon them to drop that subject and to join in praise and thanksgiving to the ever blessed Trinity for restoring among them the profession of the true faith. The emperor highly commended the modesty of the saint. But a council was necessary to declare the see vacant and the promotion of the Arian Demophilus and of the cynic Maximus void and null. A synod of all the East was then meeting at Constantinople, in which St. Meletius, Patriarch of Antioch, presided. He being the great friend and admirer of Nazianzen, the council took his cause into consideration before all others, declared the election of Maximus null, and established St. Gregory Bishop of Constantinople, without having any regard to his tears and expostulations. St. Meletius dying during the synod, St. Gregory presided in the latter sessions. To put an end to the schism between Meletius and Paulinus at Antioch, it had been agreed that the survivor should remain in sole possession of that see. This Nazianzen urged; but the oriental bishops were unwilling to own for patriarch one whom they had opposed. They therefore took great offence at this most just and prudent remonstrance, and entered into a conspiracy with his enemies against him. The saint, who had only consented to his election through the importunity of others, was most ready to relinquish his new dignity. This his enemies sought to deprive him of, together with his life, on which they made several attempts. Once, in particular, they hired a ruffian to assassinate him. But the villain, touched with remorse, repaired to the saint with many tears, wringing his hands, beating his breast, and confessing his black attempt, which he should have put in execution had not Providence interposed. The good bishop replied: “May God forgive you; his gracious preservation obliges me freely to pardon you. Your attempt has now made you mine. One only thing I beg of you, that you forsake your heresy and sincerely give yourself to God.” Some warm Catholics complained of his lenity and indulgence towards the Arians, especially those who had shown themselves violent persecutors under the former reigns.

In the meantime the bishops of Egypt and those of Macedonia arriving at the council, though all equally in the interest of Paulinus of Antioch, complained that Gregory’s election was uncanonical, it being forbidden by the canons to transfer bishops from one see to another. Nazianzen calmly answered that those canons had lost their force by long disuse: which was most notorious in the East. Nor did they in the least regard his case; for he had never taken possession of the see of Sasima, and only governed that of Nazianzum as vicar under his father. However, seeing a great ferment among the prelates and people, he cried out in the assembly, “If my holding the see of Constantinople gives any disturbance, behold I am very willing, like Jonas, to be cast into the sea to appease the storm, though I did not raise it. If all followed my example, the church would enjoy an uninterrupted tranquillity. This dignity I never desired; I took this charge upon me much against my will. If you think fit, I am most ready to depart; and I will return back to my little cottage, that you may remain here quiet, and the church of God enjoy peace. I only desire that the see may be filled by a person thatis capable and willing to defend the faith.”[23] He thereupon left the assembly, overjoyed that he had broken his bands. The bishops, whom he left in surprise, but too readily accepted his resignation. The saint went from the council to the palace, and falling on his knees before the emperor and kissing his hand, said, “I am come, sir, to ask neither riches nor honours for myself or friends, nor ornaments for the churches, but licence to retire. Your majesty knows how much against my will I was placed in this chair. I displease even my friends on no other account than because I value nothing but God. I beseech you, and make this my last petition, that among your trophies and triumphs you make this the greatest, that you bring the church to unity and concord.” The emperor and those about him were astonished at such a greatness of soul, and he with much difficulty was prevailed on to give his assent. This being obtained, the saint had no more to do than to take his leave of the whole city, which he did in a pathetic discourse, delivered in the metropolitan church before the hundred and fifty fathers of the council and an incredible multitude of the people.[24] He describes the condition in which he had found that church on his first coming to it and that in which he left it, and gives to God his thanks and the honour of the re-establishment of the Catholic faith in that city. He makes a solemn protestation of the disinterestedness of his own conduct during his late administration, not having touched any part of the revenues of the see of Constantinople the whole time. He reproaches the city with the love of shows, luxury, and magnificence, and says he was accused of too great mildness, also of a meanness of spirit, from the lowly appearance he made with respect both to dress and table. He vindicates his behaviour in these regards, saying, “I did not take it to be any part of my duty to vie with consuls, generals, and governors, who know not how to employ their riches otherwise than in pomp and show. Neither did I imagine that the necessary subsistence of the poor was to be applied to the support of luxury, good cheer, a prancing horse, a sumptuous chariot, and a long train of attendants. If I have acted in another manner and have thereby given offence, the fault isalready committed and cannot be recalled, but I hope is not unpardonable.” He concludes by bidding a moving farewell to his church, to his dear Anastasia, which he calls, in the. language of St. Paul, his glory and his crown; to the cathedral and all the other parishes of the city, to the holy apostles as honoured in the magnificent church (in which Constantius had placed the relics of St. Andrew, St. Luke, and St. Timothy), to the episcopal throne, to the clergy, to the holy monks and the other pious servants of God, to the emperor and all the court with its jealousies, pomp, and ambition, to the East and West divided in his cause, to the tutelar angels of his church, and to the sacred Trinity honoured in that place. He concludes with these words: “My dear children, preserve the depositum of faith, and remember the stones which have been thrown at me because I planted it in your hearts.” The saint was most tenderly affected in abandoning his dear flock-his converts especially which he had gained at his first church of Anastasia, as they had already signalized themselves in his service by suffering persecutions with patience for his sake. They followed him weeping, and entreating him to abide with them. He was not insensible to their tears; but motives of greater weight obliged him not to regard them on this occasion. St. Gregory, seeing himself at liberty, rejoiced in his happiness, as he expressed himself some time after to a friend in these words: “What advantages have not I found in the jealousy of my enemies! They have delivered me from the fire of Sodom by drawing me from the dangers of the episcopal charge.”[25] This treatment was the recompense with which men rewarded the labours and merit of a saint whom they ought to have sought in the remotest corners of the earth: but that city was not worthy to possess so great and holy a pastor. He had in that short time brought over the chief part of its inhabitants to the Catholic faith, as appears from his works and from St. Ambrose.[26] He had conquered the obstinacy of heretics by meekness and patience, and thought it a sufficient revenge for their former persecutions that he had it in his power to chastise them.[27] The Catholics he induced to show the same moderation towards them, and exhorted them to serve Jesus Christ by taking a Christian revenge of them, the bearing their persecutions with patience and the overcoming evil with good.[28] Besides establishing the purity of faith, he had begun a happy reformation of manners among the people; and much greater fruits were to be expected from his zealous labours. Nectarius, who succeeded him, was a soft man, and by no means equal to such a charge.

Before the election of Nectarius, Gregory left the city and returned to Nazianzum. In that retirement he composed the poem on his own life, particularly dwelling on what he had done at Constantinople to obviate the scandalous slanders which were published against him. He laboured to place a bishop at Nazianzum, but was hindered by the opposition of many of the clergy. Sickness obliged him to withdraw soon after to Arianzum, probably before the end of the year 381. In his solitude he testifies[29] that he regretted the absence of his friends, though he seemed insensible to everything else of this world. To punish himself for superfluous words (though he had never spoken to the disparagement of any neighbour) he, in 382, passed the forty days of Lent in absolute silence. In his desert he never refused spiritual advice to any that resorted to him for it. In his parzenetic poem to St. Olympias he lays down excellent rules for the conduct of married women. Among other precepts, he says, “In the first place, honour God; then respect your husband as the eye of your life, for he is to direct your conduct and actions. Love only him; make him your joy and your comfort. Take care never to give him any occasion of offence or disgust. Yield to him in his anger; comfort and assist him in his pains and afflictions, speaking to him with sweetness and tenderness, and making him prudent and modest remonstrances at seasonable times. It is not by violence and strength that the keepers of lions endeavour to tame them when they see them enraged; but they soothe and caress them, stroking them gently, and speaking with a soft voice. Never let his weaknesses be the subject of your reproaches. It can never be just or allowable for you to treat a person in this manner whom you ought to prefer to the whole world.” He prays that this holy woman might become the mother of many children, that there might be the more souls to sing the praises of Jesus Christ.[30] He often repeats this important advice, that everyone begin and end every action by offering his heart and whatever he does to God by a short prayer.[31] For we owe to God all that we are or have; and he accepts and rewards the smallest action, not so much with a view to its importance as to the affection of the heart, which in his poverty gives what it has, and is able to give in return for God’s benefits and in acknowledgment of his sovereignty.

St. Gregory had been obliged to govern the vacant see of Nazianzum after the death of his father, leaving the chief care of that church to Cledonius in his absence. But in 382 he procured Eulalias to be ordained bishop of that city, and spent the remainder of his life in retirement near Arianzum, still continuing to aid that church with his advice, though at that time very old and infirm. In this private abode he had a garden, a fountain, and a shady grove, in which he took much delight. Here, in company with certain solitaries, he lived estranged from pleasures and in the practice of bodily mortification, fasting, watching, and praying much on his knees. “I live,” says he, “among rocks and with wild beasts, never seeing any fire or using shoes; having only one single garment.[32] I am the outcast and the scorn of men. I lie on straw, clad in sackcloth: my floor is always moist with the tears I shed.”[33] In the decline of life he set himself to write pious poems for the edification of such among the faithful as were fond of music and poetry. He had also mind to oppose the poems made use of by the Apollinarist heretics to propagate their errors by such as were orthodox, useful, and religious, as the priest Gregory says in his life. He considered this exercise also as a work of penance, compositions in metre being always more difficult than those in prose. He therein recounts the history of his life and sufferings: he publishes his faults, his weaknesses, and his temptations, enlarging much more on these than on his great actions. He complains of the annoyance of his rebellious flesh, notwithstanding his great age, his ill state of health, and his austerities, acknowledging himself wholly indebted to the divine grace which had always preserved in him the treasure of virginity inviolable. God suffered him to feel these temptations that he might not be exposed to the snares of vanity and pride; and that whilst his soul dwelt in heaven he might be put in mind by the rebellion of the body that he was still on earth in a state of war. His poems are full of cries of ardent love, by which he conjures Jesus Christ to assist him, without whose grace he declares we are only dead carcasses, exhaling the stench of sin, and as incapable of making one step as a bird is of flying without air, or a fish of swimming without water; for he alone makes us see, act, and run.[34] He joined great watchfulness to prayer, especially shunning the conversation and neighbourhood of women,[35] over and above the assiduous maceration of his body. In his letters he gives to others the same advice, of which his own life was a constant example. One instance shall suffice. Sacerdos, a holy priest, was fallen into an unjust persecution through slander. St. Gregory writes to him thus in his third letter:”What evil can happen to us after all this? None, certainly, unless we by our own fault lose God and virtue. Let all other things fall out as it shall please God. He is the master of our life, and knows the reason of everything that befalls us. Let us only fear to do anything unworthy our piety. We have fed the poor, we have served our brethren, we have sung the psalms with cheerfulness. If we are no longer permitted to continue this, let us employ our devotion some other way. Grace is not barren, and opens different ways to heaven. Let us live in retirement; let us occupy ourselves in contemplation; let us purify our souls by the light of God. This perhaps will be no less a sacrifice than anything we can do.” These were St. Gregory’s occupation from the time of his last retirement till his happy death in 389, or, according to others, in 391. Tillemont gives him only sixty or sixty-one years of age, but he was certainly considerably older. The Latins honour him on the 8th of May. The Emperor Constantine Porphyrogenitus caused his ashes to be translated from Nazianzum to Constantinople, and to be laid in the Church of the Apostles, which was done with great pomp in 950. They were brought to Rome in the crusades and lie under an altar in the Vatican Church.

This great saint looked upon the smiles and frowns of the world with indifference, because spiritual and heavenly goods wholly engrossed his soul. “Let us never esteem worldly prosperity or adversity as things real or of any moment,” said he,[36] “but let us live elsewhere, and raise all our attention to heaven, esteeming sin as the only true evil, and nothing truly good but virtue, which unites us to God.”

Endnotes 33 Ib. 147

1 Naz. Or. 19, Carm. 2. 34 Carm. 59.

2 Or. 4, p. 121. 35 EP. 196, P. 894.

3 Or. I p. 32. 36 EP. 189.

4 Carm. 2, p. 31.

5 Carm. 55.

6 Carm. I.

7 Or. 29.

8 Carm. 55.

9 Ep. 69.

10 Carm. 49.

11 Or. 9, 29.

12 Rufin. Hist. lib. ii. c. 9, p. 254

13 Or. 3, p. 53.

14 Or. 12.

15 Ep. 17.

16 Ep. 16.

17 His will was comprised in these words: “I bequeath my whole substance to the poor.”

18 Ep. 32.

19 Sozom. Lib. vii. c. 5.

20 Lib. ii. p. 191.

21 Socr. Lib. ii. c. 38.

22 Carm I.

23 Carm. I.

24 Or. 32.

25 Ep. 73.

26 L. de Spir. Sancto.

27 Or. 32.

28 Or. 24.

29 Ep. 73.

30 Quo plures celebrent magni praeconia reais.

Nor. t. ii. p. 144.

31 Or. I, p. 1; Or. 9, pp. 152–154, &c.

32 Carm. 5 and 60.

Saint Ignatius of Loyola

FOUNDER OF THE SOCIETY OF JESUS BY REV. ALBAN BUTLER A.D. 1556.

INDEX

THE conversion of many barbarous nations, several heretofore unknown to us, both in the most remote eastern and western hemisphere; the education of youth in learning and piety, the instruction of the ignorant, the improvement of all the sciences, and the reformation of the manners of a great part of Christendom, is the wonderful fruit of the zeal with which this glorious saint devoted himself to labour in exalting the glory of God, and in spreading over the whole world that fire which Christ himself came to kindle on earth. St. Ignatius was born in 1491, in the castle of Loyola, in Guipuscoa, a part of Biscay that reaches to the Pyrenean mountains. His father, Don Bertram, was Lord of Ognez and Loyola, head of one of the most ancient and noble families of that country. His mother, Mary Saez de Balde, was not less illustrious by her extraction. They had three daughters and eight sons. The youngest of all these was Inigo or Ignatius. He was well shaped, and in his childhood gave proofs of a pregnant wit and discretion above his years; was affable and obliging, but of a warm or choleric disposition, and had an ardent passion for glory. He was bred in the court of Ferdinand V. in quality of page to the king, under the care and protection of Antony Manriquez, Duke of Najara, grandee of Spain, who was his kinsman and patron; and who, perceiving his inclinations, led him to the army, took care to have him taught all the exercises proper to make him an accomplished officer. The love of glory and the example of his elder brothers, who had signalized themselves in the wars of Naples, made him impatient till he entered the service. He behaved with great valour and conduct in the army, especially at the taking of Najara, a small town on the frontiers of Biscay; yet he generously declined taking any part of the booty, in which he might have challenged the greatest share. He hated gaming as an offspring of avarice, and a source of quarrels and other evils; was dextrous in the management of affairs, and had an excellent talent in making up differences among the soldiers. He was generous, even towards enemies, but addicted to gallantry, and full of the maxims of worldly honour, vanity, and pleasures. Though he had no tincture of learning, he made tolerable good verses in Spanish, having a natural genius for poetry. A poem which he composed in praise of St. Peter was much commended.

Charles V., who had succeeded King Ferdinand, was chosen emperor, and obliged to go into Germany. Francis I., King of France, a martial prince, having been his competitor for the empire, resented his disappointment, and became an implacable enemy to the emperor and the house of Austria. He declared war against Charles, with a view to recover Navarre, of which Ferdinand had lately dispossessed John of Albert, and which Charles still held, contrary to the treaty of Noyon, by which he was obliged to restore it in six months. Francis therefore, in 1521, sent a great army into Spain, under the command of Andrew de Foix, younger brother of the famous Lautrec, who passing the Pyreneans, laid seige to Pampeluna, the capital of Navarre. Ignatius had been left there by the viceroy, not to command, but to encourage the garrison. He did all that lay in his power to persuade them to defend the city, but in vain. However, when he saw them open the gates to the enemy, to save his own honour, he retired into the citadel with only one soldier who had the heart to follow him. The garrison of this fortress deliberated likewise whether they should surrender, but Ignatius encouraged them to stand their ground. The French attacked the place with great fury, and with their artillery made a wide breach in the wall, and attempted to take it by assault. Ignatius appeared upon the breach, at the head of the bravest part of the garrison, and, with his sword in his hand endeavoured to drive back the enemy; but, in the heat of the combat, a shot from a cannon broke from the wall a bit of stone, which struck and bruised his left leg; and the ball itself in the rebound broke and shivered his right leg. The garrison seeing him fall, surrendered at discretion.

The French used their victory with moderation, and treated the prisoners well, especially Ignatius, in consideration of his quality and valour. They carried him to the general’s quarters, and soon after sent him, in a litter carried by two men, to the castle of Loyola, which was not far from Pampeluna. Being arrived there he felt great pain; for the bones had been ill set, as is often the case in the hurry after a battle. The surgeons therefore judged it necessary to break his leg again, which he suffered without any concern. But a violent fever followed the second setting, which was attended with dangerous symptoms, and reduced him to an extreme degree of weakness, so that the physicians declared that he could not live many days. He received the sacraments on the eve of the feast of SS. Peter and Paul, and it was believed that he could not hold out till the next morning. Nevertheless God, who had great designs of mercy upon him, was pleased to restore him to his health in the following manner: Ignatius always had a singular devotion to St. Peter, and implored his intercession in his present distress with great confidence. In the night he thought he saw, in a dream, that apostle touch him, and cure him. When he awaked he found himself out of danger; his pains left him, and his strength began to return, so that he ever after looked upon this recovery as miraculous; yet he still retained the spirit of the world. After the second setting of his leg, the end of a bone stuck out under his knee, which was a visible deformity. Though the surgeons told him the operation would be very painful, this protuberance he caused to be cut off, merely that his boot and stockings might sit handsomely; and he would neither be bound nor held, and scarce ever changed countenance whilst the bone was partly sawed and partly cut off, though the pain must have been excessive. Because his right leg remained shorter than the left, he would be for many days together put upon a kind of rack, and with an iron engine he violently stretched and drew out that leg; but all to little purpose, for he remained lame his whole life after.

During the cure of his knee he was confined to his bed, though otherwise in perfect health, and finding the time tedious he called for some book of romances, for he had been always much delighted with fabulous histories of knight-errantry. None such being then found in the castle of Loyola, a book of the lives of our Saviour, and of the saints, was brought him. He read them first only to pass away the time, but afterwards began to relish them and to spend whole days in reading them. He chiefly admired in the saints their love of solitude and of the cross. He considered among the anchorets many persons of quality, who buried themselves alive in caves and dens, pale with fasting, and covered with haircloth; and he said to himself, “These men were of the same frame I am of; why then should not I do what they have done?” In the fervour of his good resolutions he thought of visiting the Holy Land, and becoming a hermit. But these pious motions soon vanished; and his passion for glory, and a secret inclination for a rich lady in Castile, with a view to marriage, again filled his mind with thoughts of the world; till, returning to the lives of the saints, he perceived in his own heart the emptiness of all worldly glory, and that only God could content the soul. This vicissitude and fluctuation of mind continued some time; but he observed this difference, that the thoughts which were from God filled his soul with consolation, peace, and tranquillity; whereas the others brought indeed some sensible delight, but left a certain bitterness and heaviness in the heart. This mark he lays down in his book of spiritual exercises, as the ground of the rules for the discernment of the Spirit of God, and the world in all the motions of the soul; as does Cardinal Bona, and all other writers who treat of the discernment of spirits in the interior life. Taking at last a firm resolution to imitate the saints in their heroic practice of virtue, he began to treat his body with all the rigour it was able to bear; he rose at midnight, and spent his retired hours in weeping for his sins.

One night being prostrate before an image of the Blessed Virgin, in extraordinary sentiments of fervour, he consecrated himself to the service of his Redeemer under her patronage, and vowed an inviolable fidelity. When he had ended his prayer he heard a great noise; the house shook, the windows of his chamber were broken, and a rent was made in the wall which remains to this day, says the latest writer of his life. God might by this sign testify his acceptance of his sacrifice; as a like sign happened in the place where the faithful were assembled after Christ’s ascension,(1) and in the prison of Paul and Silas;(2) or this might be an effect of the rage of the devil. Another night, Ignatius saw the Mother of God environed with light, holding the infant Jesus in her arms; this vision replenished his soul with spiritual delight, and made all sensual pleasure and worldly objects insipid to him ever after. The saint’s eldest brother, who was then, by the death of their father, lord of Loyola, endeavoured to detain him in the world, and to persuade him not to throw away the great advantages of the honor and reputation which his valour had gained him. But Ignatius being cured of his wounds, under pretence of paying a visit to the Duke of Najara, who had often come to see him during his illness, and who lived at Navarret, turned another way, and sending his two servants back from Navarret to Loyola, went to Montserrat. This was a great abbey of near three hundred Benedictine monks, of a reformed austere institute, situate on a mountain of difficult access, about four leagues in circumference and two leagues high, in the diocese of Barcelona. The monastery was first founded for nuns by the sovereign counts of Barcelona about year 880, but was given to monks in 990. It has been much augmented by several kings of Spain, and is very famous for a miraculous image of the Blessed Virgin, and a great resort of pilgrims.

There lived at that time in this monastery a monk of great sanctity, named John Chanones, a Frenchman, who being formerly vicar-general to the Bishop of Mirepoix, in the thirty-first year of his age, resigned his ecclesiastical preferments, and took the monastic habit in this place. He lived to the age of eighty-eight years, never eating any flesh, watching great part of the night in prayer, dividing his whole time between heavenly contemplation and the service of his neighbour; and giving to all Spain an example of the most perfect obedience, humility, charity, devotion, and all other virtues. To this experienced director, Ignatius addressed himself, and after his preparation, was three days in making to him a general confession, which he often interrupted by the abundance of his tears. He made a vow of perpetual chastity, and dedicated himself with great fervour to the divine service. At his first coming to this place he had bought, at the village of Montserrat, a long coat of coarse cloth, a girdle, a pair of sandals, a wallet, and a pilgrim’s staff, intending, after he had finished his devotions there, to make a pilgrimage to Jerusalem. Disguised in this habit, he remained at the abbey. He communicated to his director a plan of the austerities he proposed to practise, and was confirmed by him in his good resolutions. He received the blessed eucharist early in the morning on the feast of the Annunciation of our Lady in 1522; and, on the same day, left Montserrat for fear of being discovered, having given his horse to the monastery, and hung up his sword on a pillar near the altar in testimony of his renouncing the secular warfare, and entering himself in that of Christ. He travelled with his staff in his hand, a scrip by his side, bareheaded, and with one foot bare, the other being covered because it was yet tender and swelled. He went away infinitely pleased that he had cast off the livery of the world, and put on that of Jesus Christ. He had bestowed his rich clothes on a beggar at his coming out of Montserrat; but the poor man was thrown into prison on suspicion of theft. Ignatius being sent after by the magistrates, and brought back, told the truth to release him, but would not discover his own name.

Three leagues from Montserrat is a large village called Manresa, with a convent of Dominicans, and a hospital without the walls for pilgrims and sick persons. Ignatius went to this hospital, and rejoicing to see himself received in it unknown and among the poor, began to fast on water and the bread (which he begged) the whole week, except Sundays, when he ate a few boiled herbs, but sprinkled over with ashes. He wore an iron girdle and a hair shirt; disciplined himself thrice a day, slept little, and lay on the ground. He was every day present at the whole divine office, spent seven hours on his knees at prayer, and received the sacraments every Sunday. To add humiliation to his bodily austerities, he affected a clownishness in his behaviour, and went begging about the streets with his face covered with dirt, his hair rough, and his beard and nails grown out to a frightful length. The children threw stones at him, and followed him with scornful shouts in the streets. Ignatius suffered these insults without saying one word, rejoicing secretly in his heart to share in the reproaches of the cross. The more mortifying the noisomeness of the hospital and the company of beggars were, the more violence he offered to himself, that he might bear them cheerfully. The story of the fine suit of clothes given to the beggar at Montserrat, and the patience and devotion of the holy man, made him soon to be reverenced as some fervent penitent in disguise. To shun this danger, he privately hid himself in a dark deep cave in a solitary valley, called The Vale of Paradise, covered with briers, half a mile from the town. Here he much increased his mortifications till he was accidentally found half-dead, and carried back to Manreea, and lodged in the hospital.

After enjoying peace of mind and heavenly consolations from the time of his conversion, he was here visited with the most terrible trial of fears and scruples. He found no comfort in prayer, no relief in fasting, no remedy in disciplines, no consolation from the sacraments, and his soul was overwhelmed with bitter sadness. The Dominicans, out of compassion, took him out of the hospital into their convent; but his melancholy only increased upon him. He apprehended some sin in every step he took, and seemed often on the very brink of despair; but he was in the hands of Him whose trials are favours. He most earnestly implored the divine assistance, and took no sustenance for seven days, till his confessor obliged him to eat. Soon after this, his tranquillity of mind was perfectly restored, and his soul overflowed with spiritual joy. From this experience he acquired a particular talent for curing scrupulous consciences, and a singular light to discern them. His prayer was accompanied with many heavenly raptures, and he received from God a supernatural knowledge and sense of sublime divine mysteries: yet he concealed all from the eyes of men, only disclosing himself to his two confessors, the pious monk of Montserrat, and the Dominican of Manresa ; however, the people began to reverence him as a living saint, which they particularly testified during a violent fever into which his austerities cast him three times.

Too nice a worldly prudence may condemn the voluntary humiliations which this saint sometimes made choice of; but the wisdom of God is above that of the world, and the Holy Ghost sometimes inspires certain heroic souls to seek perfectly to die to themselves by certain practices which are extraordinary, and which would not be advisable to others; and if affected or undertaken with obstinacy, and against advice, would be pernicious and criminal. Ignatius, by perfect compunction, humility, self-denial, contempt of the world, severe interior trials, and assiduous meditation, was prepared, by the divine grace, to be raised to an extraordinary gift of supernatural prayer. He afterwards assured F. Laynez that he had learned more of divine mysteries by prayer in one hour at Manresa, than all the doctors of the schools could ever have taught him. He was there favoured with many raptures, and divine illustrations concerning the Trinity, of which he afterwards spoke with so much light and unction, that the most learned admired him, and the ignorant were instructed. In like manner, in various wonderful ecstasies, he was enlightened concerning the beauty and order of the creation, the excess of divine love which shines forth to man in the sacrament of the altar, and many other mysteries. So imperfect was his knowledge of his duties when he first renounced the world, that, hearing a certain Moresco, or Mahometan, speak injuriously of the holy Mother of God, when he set out from Loyola for Montserrat, he deliberated whether, being an officer, he ought not to kill him, though the divine protection preserved him from so criminal an action. But at Manresa he made so good a progress in the school of virtue, as to become qualified already to be a guide to others. He stayed there almost a year, during which time he governed himself by the advice of the holy monk of Montserrat, whom he visited every week, and that of his Dominican director.

Spain, in that and the foregoing age, abounded with many learned and experienced persons in that way, endowed with an eminent spirit, and a perfect experimental knowledge of Christian piety; witness the works of St. Peter of Alcantara, John of Avila, St. Teresa, Bartholomew de Martyrbus, Lewis of Granada, and others. Our saint had the happiness to fall into the hands of prudent and able guides, and giving his heart to God without reserve, became himself in a short time an accomplished master; and whereas at first he only proposed to himself his own perfection, he afterwards burned with an ardent desire of contributing to the salvation of others; and commiserating blindness of sinners, and considering how much the glory of God shines in the sanctification of souls purchased with the blood of his Son, he said to himself, “It is not enough that I serve the Lord; all hearts ought to love him, and all tongues ought to praise him.” With this view, in order to be admitted more freely to converse with persons in the world, he chose a dress which, being more decent than the penitential garments which he at first wore, might not be disagreeable to others; and he moderated his excessive austerities.

He began then to exhort many to the love of virtue; and he there wrote his Spiritual Exercises, which he afterwards revised, and published at Rome, in 1548. Though the saint was at that time unacquainted with learning, any further than barely to read and write, yet this book is so full of excellent maxims, and instructions in the highest points of a spiritual life, that it is most clear that the Holy Ghost supplied abundantly what was yet wanting in him of human learning and study. The spirit which reigns in this book was that of all the saints. Frequent religious retirement had been practised by pious persons, in imitation of Christ and all the saints from the beginning; likewise the use and method of holy meditation were always known; but the excellent order of these meditations, prescribed by Ignatius, was new: and, though the principal rules and maxims are found in the lessons and lives of the ancient fathers of the desert, they are here judiciously chosen, methodically digested, and clearly explained. One of these is, that a person must not abridge the time, or desist from meditating, on account of spiritual dryness; another, that no one make any vow in sudden sentiments of fervour, but wait some time, and first ask advice. St. Ignatius establishes in this book the practice of a daily particular examination against a person’s predominant passion, or on the best means and endeavours to acquire some particular virtue, besides the daily general examination of conscience. He lays down this excellent maxim:(3)-”When God hath appointed out a way, we must faithfully follow it, and never think of another, under pretence that it is more easy and safe. It is one of the devil’s artifices to set before a soul some state, holy indeed, but impossible to her, or at least different from hers; that by this love of novelty, she may dislike or be slack in her present state, in which God hath placed her, and which is best for her. In like manner, he represents to her other actions as more holy and profitable, to make her conceive a disgust of her present employment.” When some pretended to find fault with this book of St. Ignatius’s Spiritual Exercises, Pope Paul III., at the request of St. Francis Borgia, by a brief, in 1548, approved it, as full of the Spirit of God, and very useful for the edification and spiritual profit of the faithful.

The pestilence which raged in Italy having ceased, Ignatius, after a stay of ten months at Manresa, left that place for Barcelona, neither regarding the tears of those who sought to detain him, nor admitting any to bear him company, nor consenting to accept any money for the expenses of his journey. He took shipping at Barcelona, and in five days landed at Gaeta, whence he travelled on foot to Rome, Padua, and Venice, through villages, the towns being shut for fear of the plague. He spent the Easter at Rome, and sailed from Venice on board the admiral’s vessel, which was carrying the governor to Cyprus. The sailors were a profligate crew, and seemed entirely to neglect prayer and all duties of religion, and their discourse was often lewd and profane. Ignatius having reproved them for their licentiousness, his zeal made them conspire to leave him ashore in a desert island; but a gust of wind from the land hindered the ship from touching upon it. He arrived at Cyprus, and found in the port a vessel full of pilgrims, just ready to hoist sail. Going immediately on board, he made a good voyage, and landed at Jaffa, the ancient Joppe, on the last day of August, 1523, forty days after he had left Venice. He went on foot from thence to Jerusalem in four days. The sight of the holy places filled his soul with joy, and the most ardent sentiments of devotion and compunction, and he desired to stay there to labour in the conversion of the Mahometans. The provincial of the Franciscans, by virtue of his authority from the holy see over the pilgrims, commanded him to leave Palestine. Ignatius obeyed, but slipped privately back to satisfy his devotion again in visiting twice more the print of our Saviour’s feet on Mount Olivet.

He returned to Europe in winter, in extreme cold weather, poorly clad, and came to Venice at the end of January, in 1524; from whence he continued his journey by Genoa to Barcelona. Desiring to qualify himself for the functions of the altar, and for assisting spiritually his neighbour, he began at Barcelona to study grammar, and addressed himself to a famous master named Jerom Ardebal, being assisted in the meantime in his maintenance by the charities of a pious lady of that city, called Isabel Rosella. He was then thirty-three years old; and it is not hard to conceive what difficulties he must go through in learning the rudiments of grammar at that age. Moreover, he seemed, by his military employments, and after his retreat by his contemplative life, very unfit for such an undertaking. At first, his mind was so fixed only on God, that he forgot every thing he read, and conjugating amo, for example, could only repeat to himself, “I love God; I am loved by God,” and the like; but resisting this as a temptation, he began to make some progress, still joining contemplation and extraordinary austerities with his studies. He bore the jeers and taunts of the little boys, his schoolfellows, with joy. Hearing that a poor man, called Lasano, had hanged himself on a beam in his chamber, he ran to him, cut the rope, and prayed by him till the man returned to himself, though he had before seemed perfectly dead to all the bystanders. Lasano made his confession, received the sacraments, and soon after expired. This fact was regarded in the city as miraculous.

Some persons persuaded Ignatius to read Erasmus’s Christian Soldier, an elegant book wrote by that master of style, as the request of an officer’s pious lady, for the use of her husband, a man of loose morals. The saint always found his heart dry after reading this or any other of that author’s works; which made him afterwards caution those of his society against reading them, at least very much. Though in that writer’s paraphrase on the Lord’s Prayer, and other such treatises of piety, we find very pious sentiments collected great authors, and elegantly and concisely expressed, yet a devout reader finds the language of the heart wanting. On the other side, it is well known how St. Ignatius read daily, and recommended to all others the incomparable book, Of the Imitation of Christ, which he made frequent use of, to nourish and increase the fervour of his soul. He lodged at the house of one Agnes Pascal, a devout woman. Her son, John Pascal, a pious youth, would sometimes rise in the night to observe what Ignatius did in his chamber, and saw him sometimes on his knees, sometimes prostrate on the ground, his countenance on fire, and often in tears repeating such words as these: “O God, my love, and the delight of my soul, if men knew thee, they could never offend thee! My God, how good art thou to bear with such a sinner as I am!”

The saint, after studying two years at Barcelona, went to the university of Alcala, which had been lately founded by Cardinal Ximenes, where he attended at the same time to lectures in logic, physics, and divinity; by which multiplicity he only confounded his ideas, and learned nothing at all, though he studied night and day. He lodged in a chamber of an hospital, lived by begging a small subsistence, and wore a coarse grey habit, in which he was imitated by four companions. He catechised children, held assemblies of devotion in the hospital, and by his mild reprehensions converted many loose livers, and among others one of the richest prelates in Spain. Some accused him of sorcery, and of the heresy of certain visionaries lately condemned in Spain, under the name of the Illuminati, or Men of New Light; but, upon examination, he was justified by the inquisitors. After this, for teaching the catechism, being a man without learning or authority, he was accused to the bishop’s grand vicar, who confined him to close prison two-and-forty days, but declared him innocent of any fault by a public sentence, on the first day of June, 1527; yet forbidding him and his companions to wear any singular habit, or to give any instructions in religious matters, being illiterate persons. Ignatius rejoiced in his jail that he suffered though innocent, but spoke with such piety that many called him another St. Paul in prison. Being enlarged, he went about the streets with a public officer, to beg money to buy a scholar’s dress, in which action he rejoiced at the insults and affronts which he met with. However, he went himself to the Archbishop of Toledo, Alphonsus de Fonseca, who was much pleased with him, but advised him to leave Alcala, and go to Salamanca, promising him his protection. Ignatius, in this latter place, began to draw many to virtue, and was followed by great numbers, which exposed him again to suspicions of introducing dangerous practices, and the grand vicar of Salamanca imprisoned him; but after two-and-twenty days declared him innocent, and a person of sincere virtue. Ignatius looked upon prisons, sufferings, and ignominy as the height of his ambition; and God was pleased to purge and sanctify his soul by these trials. Recovering his liberty again, he resolved to leave Spain.

He from that time began to wear shoes, and received money sent him by his friends, but in the middle of winter travelled on foot to Paris, where he arrived in the beginning of February, 1528. He spent two years in perfecting himself in the Latin tongue; then went through a course of philosophy. He lived first in Montaigue College; but being robbed of his money was obliged to lodge in the hospital of St. James, to beg his bread from day to day, and in the vacation time to go into Flanders, and once into England, to procure charities from the Spanish merchants settled there, from whom and from some friends at Barcelona he received abundant supplies. He studied his philosophy three years and a half in the college of St. Barbara. He had induced many of his schoolfellows to spend the Sundays and holy-days in prayer, and to apply themselves more fervently to the practice of good works. Pegna, his master, thought he hindered their studies, and finding him not corrected by his admonitions, prepossessed Govea, principal of the college of St. Barbara, against him, so that he was ordered by him to undergo the greatest punishment then in use in that university, called “The Hall,” which was a public whipping, that this infamy might deter others from following him. The regents came all into the hall with rods in their hands, ready to lash the seditious student. Ignatius offered himself joyfully to suffer all things; yet, apprehending lest the scandal of this disgrace should make those whom he had reclaimed fall back, when they saw him condemned as a corrupter of youth, went to the principal in his chamber, and modestly laid open to him the sentiments of his soul, and the reasons of his conduct; and offered himself, as much as concerned his own person, that any sacrifice should be made of his body and fame, but begged of him to consider the scandal some might receive, who were yet young and tender in virtue. Govea made him no answer, but taking him by the hand led him into the hall, where, at the ringing of the bell, the whole college stood ready assembled. When all saw the principal enter, and expected the sign for the punishment, he threw himself at he feet of Ignatius, begging his pardon for having too lightly believed such false reports; then, rising, he publicly declared that Ignatius was a living saint, and had no other aim or desire than the salvation of souls, and was ready to suffer joyfully any infamous punishment. Such a reparation of honour gave the saint the highest reputation, and even the ancient and experienced doctors asked his advice in spiritual matters. Pegna himself was ever after his great admirer and friend, and appointed another scholar, who was more advanced in his studies, and a young man of great virtue and quick parts, to assist him in his exercises. This was Peter Faber, a Savoyard, a native of the diocese of Geneva, by whose help he finished his philosophy, and took the degree of master of arts with great applause, after a course of three years and a half, according to the custom of the times. After this Ignatius began his divinity at the Dominicans.

Peter Faber had from his childhood made a vow of chastity, which he had always most faithfully kept, yet was troubled with violent temptations, from which the most rigorous fasts did not deliver him. He was also tempted to vainglory, and laboured under great anxiety and scruples about these temptations, which he at length disclosed to Ignatius, his only pupil, whose skilful and heavenly advice was a healing balsam to his soul. The saint at last prescribed him a course of his spiritual exercises, and taught him the practices of meditation, of the particular examination, and other means of perfection, conducting him through all the paths of an interior life. St. Francis Xavier, a young master of philosophy, full of the vanity of the schools, was his next conquest. St. Ignatius made him sensible that all mortal glory is emptiness; only that which is eternal deserving our regard. He converted many abandoned sinners. When a young man, engaged in a criminal commerce with a woman of the city, was proof against his exhortations, Ignatius stood in a frozen pond by the way side up to the neck, and as he passed by in the night, cried out to him, “Whither are you going? Do not you hear the thunder of divine justice over your head, ready to break upon you? Go then; satisfy your brutish passion;here I will suffer for you, to appease heaven.” The lewd young man, at first affrighted, then confounded, returned back and changed his life. By the like pious stratagems the saint recovered many other souls from the abysses into which they were fallen. He often served the sick in the hospitals; and one day finding a repugnance to touch the ulcers of one sick of a contagious distemper, to overcome himself he not only dressed his sores, but put his hand from them to his mouth, saying, “Since thou art afraid for one part, thy whole body shall take its share.” From that time he felt no natural repugnance in such actions.

James Laynez, of Almazan, twenty-one years of age; Alphonsus Salmeron, only eighteen; and Nicholas Alphonso, surnamed Bobadilla, from the place of his birth, near Valencia, all Spaniards of great parts, at that time students in divinity at Paris, associated themselves to the saint in his pious exercises. Simon Rodriguez, a Portuguese, joined them. These fervent students, moved by the pressing instances and exhortations of Ignatius, made all together a vow to renounce the world, to go to preach the gospel in Palestine, or if they could not go thither within a year after they had finished their studies, to offer themselves to his holiness to be employed, in the service of God, in what manner he should judge best. They fixed for the end of all their studies the 25th day of January, in 1537, and pronounced this vow aloud, in the holy subterraneous chapel, at Montmartre, after they had all received the holy communion from Peter Faber, who had been lately ordained priest. This was done on the feast of the Assumption of our Lady, in 1534. Ignatius continued frequent conferences, and joint exercises, to animate his companions in their good purposes; but soon after was ordered by the physicians to try his native air, for the cure of a lingering indisposition. He left Paris in the beginning of the year 1535, and was most honourably and joyfully received in Quipuscoa, by his elder brother, Garcias, and his nephews, and by all the clergy in processions. He refused to go to the castle of Loyola, taking up his quarters in the hospital of Azpetia. The sight of the places, where he had led a worldly life, excited in him the deepest sentiments of compunction, and he chastised his body with a rough hair shirt, iron chains, disciplines, watching, and prayer. He recovered his health in a short time, and catechised and instructed the poor with incredible fruit. Ignatius, in his childhood, had, with some companions, robbed an orchard, for which another man had been condemned to pay the damages. In the first discourse he made he accused himself, publicly, of this fact, and calling the poor man, who was present, declared that he had been falsely accused, and for reparation gave him two farms which belonged to him, begging his pardon before all the people, adding that this was one of the reasons of his journey thither.

In the mean time three others, all doctors in divinity, by the exhortations of Faber, joined the saint’s companions in Paris. Claudius le Jay, a Savoyard, John Codure, a native of Dauphine, and Pasquier Brouet, of Picardy; so that with Ignatius they were now ten in number. The holy founder, after a tedious and dangerous journey, both by sea and land, arrived at Venice about the end of the year 1536, and his nine companions from Paris met him there on the 8th of January, 1537; they employed themselves in the hospitals, but all, except Ignatius, went to Rome, where Pope Paul III. received them graciously, and granted them an indult, that those who were not priests might receive holy orders from what bishop they pleased. They were accordingly ordained at Venice by the Bishop of Arbe. Ignatius was one of this number. After their ordination they retired into a cottage near Vicenza, to prepare themselves in solitude, by fasting and prayer, for the holy ministry of the altar. The rest said their first masses in September and October, but Ignatius deferred his, from month to month, till Christmas-day, overflowing in his retirement with heavenly consolations, and in danger of losing his sight through the abundance of his tears. Thus he employed a whole year in preparing himself to offer that adorable sacrifice. After this they dispersed themselves into several places about Verona and Vicenza, preaching penance to the people, and living on a little bread which they begged. The emperor and the Venetians having declared war against the Turks, their pilgrimage into Palestine was rendered impracticable. The year therefore being elapsed, Ignatius, Faber, and Laynez went to Rome, threw themselves at his holiness’s feet, and offered themselves to whatever work he should judge best to employ them in. St. Ignatius told his companions at Vicenza, that if any one asked what their institute was, they might answer, “the Society of Jesus;” because they were united to fight against heresies and vice under the standard of Christ. In his road from Vicenza to Rome, praying in a little chapel between Sienna and Rome, he, in an ecstacy, seemed to see the eternal Father, who affectionately commended him to his Son. Jesus Christ appeared at the same time also shining with an unspeakable light, but loaded with a heavy cross, and sweetly said to Ignatius, “I will be favourable to you at Rome.” This St. Ignatius disclosed to F. Laynez, in a transport when he came out of the chapel; and F. Laynez, when he was general, related it to all the fathers in Rome in a domestic conference, at which F. Ribadeneira, who records it, was present. The same was attested by others to whom the saint had discovered this signal favour. Pope Paul III. accordingly received them graciously; and appointed Faber, called in French Le Fevre, to teach in the Sapienza at Rome scholastic divinity, and Laynez to explain the holy scripture; whilst Ignatius laboured, be means of his spiritual exercises and instructions, to reform the manners of the people.

The holy founder, with a view to perpetuate the work of God, called to Rome all his companions, and proposed to them his design and motives of forming themselves into a religious Order. After recommending the matter to God by fasting and prayer, all agreed in the proposal, and resolved, first, besides the vows of poverty and chastity already made by them, to add a third of perpetual obedience, the more perfectly to conform themselves to the Son of God, who was obedient even to death; and to establish a general whom all, by their vow, should be bound to obey, who should be perpetual, and his authority absolute, subject entirely to the pope, but not liable to be restrained by chapters. He likewise determined to prescribe a fourth vow of going wherever the pope should send them for the salvation of souls, and even without money, if it should so please him; also that the professed Jesuits should possess no real estates or revenues, either in particular, or in common; but that colleges might enjoy revenues and rents for the maintenance of students of the Order. In the meanwhile Govea, principal of the college of St. Barbara at Paris, had recommended the Jesuits to the King of Portugal as proper missionaries for the conversion of the Indies, and that prince asked of Ignatius six labourers for that purpose. The founder having only ten, could send him no more than two, Simon Rodriguez, who remained in Portugal, and Xavier, afterwards the apostle of the Indies. The three cardinals appointed by the pope to examine the affair of this new Order, at first opposed it, thinking religious orders already too much multiplied, but changed their opinions on a sudden, and Pope Paul III. approved it under the title of “The Society of Jesus,” by a bull, dated the 27th of September, 1540. Ignatius was chosen the first general, but only acquiesced in obedience to his confessor. He entered upon his office on Easter-day, 1541, and the members all made their religious vows, according to the bull of their institution.

Ignatius then set himself to write constitutions or rules for his Society, in which he lays down its end to be, in the first place, the sanctification of their own souls by joining together the active and the contemplative life; for nothing so much qualifies a minister of God to save others as the sanctification of his own soul in the first place. Secondly, to labour for the salvation and perfection of their neighbour, and this, first, by catechising the ignorant (which work is the basis and ground of religion and virtue, and though mean and humble, is the most necessary and indispensable duty of every pastor); secondly, by the instruction of youth in piety and learning (upon which the reformation of the world principally depends); and thirdly, by the direction of consciences, missions, and the like.

St. Ignatius would have the office of general to be perpetual or for life, being persuaded this would better command the respect of inferiors, and more easily enable him to undertake and carry on great enterprises for the glory of God, which require a considerable time to have them well executed. Nevertheless, he often strenuously endeavoured to resign that dignity, but was never able to compass it; and at length the pope forbade him any more to attempt it. He had no sooner taken that charge upon him than he went into the kitchen, and served as a scullion under the cook, and he continued for forty-six days to catechise poor children in the church of the Society. By preaching he gained such an ascendant over the hearts of the people as produced many wonderful conversions. Among the pious establishments which he made at Rome, he founded a house for the reception of Jews who should be converted, during the time of their instruction, and another for the reception and maintenance of lewd women who should be desirous to enter upon virtuous courses, yet were not called to a religious state among the Magdalens or penitents. When one told him that the conversion of such sinners is seldom sincere, he answered, “To prevent only one sin would be a great happiness, though it cost me ever so great pains.” He procured two houses to be erected at Rome for the relief of poor orphans of both sexes, and another for the maintenance of young women whose poverty might expose their virtue to danger. The heart of this blessed man so burned with charity, that he was continually thinking and speaking of what might most contribute to promote the divine honour and sanctification of souls; and he did wonders by the zealous fathers of his Society in all parts of the globe. He was entreated by many princes and cities of Italy, Spain, Germany, and the Low Countries to afford them some of his labourers. Under the auspicious protection of John III., King of Portugal, he sent St. Francis Xavier into the East Indies, where he gained a new world to the faith of Christ. He sent John Nugnez and Lewis Gonzales into the kingdoms of Fez and Morocco to instruct and assist the Christian slaves; in 1547, four others to Congo in Africa; in 1555, thirteen into Abyssinia, among whom John Nugnez was nominated by Pope Julius III. patriarch of Ethiopia, and two others, bishops; lastly, others into the Portuguese settlements in South America.

Pope Paul III. commissioned the fathers James Laynez and Alphonsus Salmeron to assist, in quality of his theologians, at the council of Trent. Before their departure St. Ignatius, among other instructions, gave them a charge in all disputations to be careful above all things, to preserve modesty and humility, and to shun all confidence, contentiousness, or empty display of learning. F. Claudius Le Jay appeared in the same council as theologian of Cardinal Otho, Bishop of Ausberg. Many of the first disciples of St. Ignatius distinguished themselves in divers kingdoms of Europe, but none with greater reputation, both for learning and piety, than Peter Canisius, who was a native of Nimeguen, in the Low Countries, and having with wonderful success employed his zealous labours at Ingolstadt and in several other parts of Germany, and in Bohemia, died in the odour of sanctity, at Fribourg, in 1597, seventy-seven years old.(4) Whilst F. Claudius Le Jay was at Trent, Ferdinand, King of the Romans, nominated him Bishop of Trieste. The good father seemed ready to die of grief at this news, and wrote to St. Ignatius, humbly requesting him to put some bar to this promotion. The holy founder was himself alarmed, and by a pressing letter to the king, prevailed upon him not to do what would be an irreparable prejudice to his young Society. He urged to the pope and sacred college many reasons why he desired that all the fathers of his Society should be excluded from all ecclesiastical dignities, alleging that this would be a means more easily to preserve among them a spirit of humility and poverty, which is the very soul and perfection of their state; and that, being missionaries, it was more advantageous to the church that they should remain such, always ready to fly from pole to pole, as the public necessity should require. The pope being satisfied with his reasons, the saints obliged all professed Jesuits to bind themselves by a simple vow never to seek prelatures, and to refuse them when offered, unless compelled by a precept of the pope to accept them.

In 1546 the Jesuits first opened their schools in Europe, in the college which St. Francis Borgia had erected for them at Gandia, with the privileges of an university.(5) The seminary of Goa, in Asia, which had been erected some years before for the Indian missions, was committed to the Jesuits, under the direction of Francis Xavier, the preceding year. King John also founded for them, in 1546, a noble college at Coïmbra, the second which they had in Europe. F. Simon Rodriguez directed this establishment, and many others in Portugal, Spain, and Brazil, and died at Lisbon, in the highest reputation for sanctity and learning, in 1579. Among the rules which St. Ignatius gave to the masters, he principally inculcated the lessons of humility, modesty, and devotion; he prescribed that all their scholars should hear mass every day, go to confession every month, and always begin their studies by prayer; that their masters should take every fit occasion to inspire them with the love of heavenly things; and that by daily meditation, self-examinations, pious readings, retreat, and the constant exercise of the divine presence, they should nourish in their own souls a fervent spirit of prayer, which without the utmost care is extinguished by a dry course of studies and school disputations, and with it are destroyed the very soul of a religious or spiritual life. He recommended nothing more earnestly, both to professors and scholars, than that they should dedicate all their labours, with the greatest fervour to the greater glory of God, which intention will make studies equal to prayer. He treated very harshly all those whom learning rendered self-conceited or less devout; and removed all those masters who discovered any fondness for singular opinions. It is incredible with what attention and industry he promoted emulation and every means that could be a spur to scholars. He required that copies of some of the principal literary performances should be sent from all the colleges to Rome, where he had them examined before him, that he might better judge of the progress both of masters and scholars.

He encouraged every branch of the sciences, and would have the fathers in his Society applied to those functions, whether in teaching, preaching, or the missions, for which God seemed chiefly to qualify and destine them by their genius, talents, and particular graces; yet so that one should neglect the duties either of assiduous prayer, and an interior life, or of instructing and catechising others. He recommended to them all, especially the masters of novices, &c., to read diligently the conferences, lives, and writings of the fathers of the desert, and other pious ascetics, in order to learn their spirit. With what success many among them did this appears from the Practice of Christian Perfection, compiled by F. Alphonsus Rodriguez, one of the most eminent persons whom our saint had admitted into his Society. In this excellent work he gathered and digested, in a clear and easy method, the most admirable maxims and lessons of the ancient monks; and having many years trained up, according to them, the novices of his Order in Spain, died holily in the year 1616, the ninetieth of his age. We have other eminent instances of this holy spirit and science among the primitive disciples of St. Ignatius, in the works of F. Lewis de Ponte, or Puente, who died in 1624, and whose canonization has been often desired by the kings of Spain; in those of F. Alvarez de Paz, who died in Peru, in 1620; and in the writings and life of F. Baltassar Alvarez, who died in Spain, in 1580, in the odour of sanctity.

St. Francis Borgia, in 1551, gave a considerable sum towards building the Roman college for the Jesuits. Pope Julius III. contributed largely to it; Paul IV., in 1555, founded it for perpetuity with great munificence; afterwards Gregory XIII. much augmented its buildings and revenues. St. Ignatius, intending to make this the model of all his other colleges, neglected nothing to render it complete, and took care that it should be supplied with the ablest masters in all the sciences, and with all possible helps for the advancement of literature. He made it a strict rule in the Society, that every one should study to speak correctly the language of the country where he lives;(6) for, without being perfect in the vulgar tongue, no one can be qualified to preach or perform many other functions with profit. On this account be established in the Roman college daily lessons in the Italian tongue, and he carefully studied that language, and appointed others to put him in mind of all the faults which he should commit in speaking. St. Ignatius also directed the foundation of the German college in Rome made by Julius III., but afterwards finished by Gregory XIII. He often met with violent persecutions, but overcame them by meekness and patience. When the French king, Henry II., gave the Society letters patent to settle in France, the parliament of Paris made the most outrageous remonstrances, and the faculty of Sorbon, though not without opposition, passed a virulent decree against it. The other fathers at Rome thought it necessary to answer these censures; but St. Ignatius would have nothing printed or written in their defence, saying, that it was better to commit their cause to God, and that the slanders raised against them world fall of themselves; and so it happened. Indeed, the storm was too violent to last. Upon other occasions the saint modestly defended his institute against slanderers.

The prudence and charity of the saint in his conduct towards his religious won him all their hearts. His commands seemed rather entreaties. The address with which he accommodated himself to every one’s particular genius, and the mildness with which he tempered his reproofs, gave to his reprehensions a sweetness which gained the affections, whilst it corrected a fault. Thus chiding one for his too little guard over his eyes, he said to him with tenderness, “I have often admired the modesty of your deportment, yet observe that unguarded glances often escape you.” When another had fixed his eye steadfastly upon him a long time, the saint enjoined him to make the government of his eye the subject of his particular examination, and to say every day a short prayer for fifteen months. He extremely recommended a strict modesty in the whole exterior as the index of the interior, and a means absolutely necessary for the regulating of it, and the government of the senses and passions. He always showed the affection of the most tender parent towards all his brethren, especially towards the sick, for whom he was solicitous to procure every spiritual and even temporal succour and comfort, which it was his great delight to give them himself. The most perfect obedience and self-denial were the two first lessons which he inculcated to his novices, whom he told at the door as they entered, that they must leave behind them all self-will and private judgment. In his famous letter to the Portuguese Jesuits, On the Virtue of Obedience, he says, this alone bringeth forth and nourisheth all other virtues; and calls it the peculiar virtue, and distinguishing mark and characteristic of his Society, in which, if any member suffer himself to be outdone by those of other Orders in fasting or watching, that he must yield to none in obedience. He adds, true obedience must reach the understanding as well as the will, and never suffer a person even secretly to complain of, or censure the precept of a superior, whom he must always consider as vested with the authority of Jesus Christ over him. He says, it is not a less fault to break the laws of obedience in watching than in sleeping, in labouring than in doing nothing.

When F. Araos, whose spiritual labours were very successful in the court of Spain, seemed to seek the conversation of the great ones of the world, upon pretence of conciliating their favour to his ministry, St. Ignatius sent him a sharp reprimand, telling him that the necessary authority for the ministers of the word of God is to be gained only by a spirit of recollection, and the exercises of Christian humility; for the loss of every thing is to be feared in an intercourse with the great ones of the world. He used to say that prosperity caused in him more fear than joy; that when persecution ceased, he should be in apprehension lest the Society should somewhat relax in the observance of its regular discipline; that good fortune is never to be trusted, and that we have most to fear when things go according to our desires. He made a most severe regulation, that in the Society no one should even visit women, even of the highest quality, alone; and that when they discoursed with them, or heard their confessions, this should be so ordered that the companion might see all that passed, without hearing what ought to be secret, this being a means to prevent the possibility of evil suspicions or slanders. In the assigning the employments of those under his charge, he had usually a regard to their inclinations, though he always required that, on their parts, they should be wholly indifferent, and disposed cheerfully to accept and discharge any.

Notwithstanding the fatigue and constant application which the establishment of his Order in all parts of the world, and so many other great enterprises undertaken to promote the glory of God required, he was all on fire with an excess of charity, and a restless desire of gaining souls to God, and wearied himself out in the service of his neighbour, always labouring to extirpate vice, and to promote virtue in all, and set on foot several practices which might conduce to the divine service and the salvation of men. It is not to be believed how many and how great affairs this blessed man was able to go through, and with what courage and spirit he bore so continual a burden, and this with so weak health and infirm body. But he was assisted by the powerful hand of our Lord, that furnished him with strength for all his labours; so that he then appeared strongest and most courageous, when he was weary, sickly, and unprovided of human and natural helps; for, in his infirmity, the power of God manifested itself, and the saint seemed to support the weakness of his body with the vigour of his soul. This interior strength he chiefly maintained by an eminent spirit of prayer, and the constant and closest union of his soul with God. For he was favoured with an extraordinary grace of devotion, which he, out of humility, thought God had given him out of compassion for his weakness and misery, which he said was greater than that of any other. In saying the holy mass, and reciting the divine office, the abundance of heavenly delights which God poured into his soul, was often so great, and made such showers of tears stream from his eyes, that he was obliged to stop in a manner at every word, sometimes to make a considerable interruption whilst he gave vent to his tears. It was once feared, lest his continual effusion of tears should hurt his eye-eight. At other times, though his eyes were dry at his devotion, and the sluices of his tears were shut up, yet their influence and effect was not wanting; for his spirit was still watered with heavenly dew, and the divine illustrations ceased not to flow copiously into his soul.

In matters of concern, though reasons were ever so convincing and evident, he never took any resolution before he had consulted God by prayer. He let not an hour pass in the day without recollecting himself interiorly, and examining his conscience, for this purpose banishing for a while all other thoughts. He never applied his mind so much to exterior affairs as to lose the sweet relish of interior devotion. He had God always and in all things present to his mind. Every object served him for a book, wherein he read the divine perfections, and by that means raised his heart to the Creator. He recommended this manner of prayer to every one, especially to those who are employed in spiritual functions for the help of their neighbour. Before he betook himself to public or private prayer, he prepared his soul with great fervour, and entering into the oratory of his heart, enkindled his affections, so that this appeared in his countenance, and he seemed to be all on fire, as we ourselves frequently observed, says Ribadeneira. The saint being once asked by F. Laynez what manner of prayer he used, gave this answer, that in matters concerning Almighty God he behaved himself rather passively than actively. He prayed sometimes standing, and profoundly adored the majesty of God present to his soul; he often bowed his body low, and most frequently prayed on his knees. No sooner had he recollected his mind in God, but his countenance put on an air which appeared altogether heavenly, and often streams of tears fell sweetly from his eyes.

He prescribed to the priests of his Order to be about half an hour at the altar in saying mass, to avoid on one side the least appearance of indecent hurry and precipitation in that tremendous sacrifice; and on the other, not to be tedious to the people by unseasonably indulging their private devotion. Nevertheless, he was himself about an hour in saying mass, to excuse which he alleged the plea of necessity, being often obliged to make pauses through an irresistible tenderness of devotion. After mass he spent two hours in private prayer, during which time no one was admitted to speak to him except on some pressing necessity. F. Lewis Gonzales, who for some time governed the college under him, says, “As often as I went to him at that time, which necessity frequently obliged me to do, I always saw his face shining with an air so bright and heavenly, that, quite forgetting myself, I stood astonished in contemplating him. Nor was his countenance like that of many devout men in whom I have admired a wonderful serenity at their prayers, but it breathed something quite unusual, and, as it were, divine.” On other occasions, the like was remarked in him; on which account F. Laynez compared him to Moses when he came from conversing with God. Nicholas Lanoy testified, that he one day saw a fire flame on his head whilst he was saying mass. St. Philip Neri, who often visited St. Ignatius, used to assure his friends that he had seen his face shining with bright rays of light, as F. Antony Galloni, his disciple and confidant in all his concerns, and Marcellus Vitelleschi declared they had often heard from his own mouth; of which Cardinal Taurusius, Archbishop of Sienna, published an authentic certificate.(7) John Petronius, a famous physician in Rome, declared publicly that, when sick, he once saw his own chamber, which was then very dark, by reason of the windows being shut, filled with a dazzling light from such rays from the blessed man’s coming into it. Isabel Rosella, John Pascal, and several other persons testified, that they had sometimes beheld his countenance at prayer sparkling with radiant beams of light, the abundant consolations which replenished his soul, redounding on his body. John Pascal added, that he had seen him in prayer raised more than a foot above the ground, and heard him say at the same time, “O my God! O my Lord! O that men knew thee!” The saint was often favoured amidst the tears and fervour of his devotion, with wonderful raptures, visions, and revelations; and some of these visions and other supernatural favours St. Ignatius mentioned himself in short notes which he wrote, and which were found in his own hand after his death, some of which notes are published by F. Bartoli.(8) Others are mentioned by Ribadeneira, who inserted in the saint’s life, as he declares, only what himself had seen, or had heard from his mouth, or from persons of unquestionable authority, and whose life of his holy founder, by the order of St. Francis Borgia, was carefully examined and approved by the principal persons then living who had frequently conversed with the saint, as Salmeron, Bobadilla, Polancus, who had been the saint’s secretary, Natalis, &c.

If the spirit of prayer was that virtue by which our saint was admitted to the familiar intercourse with God, was the key which unlocked to him the treasure of all other virtues and graces, and was the continual comfort, support, and light of his soul, and the constant advancement of its supernatural life in his mortal pilgrimage, this spirit was itself founded in the most perfect self-denial. The Holy Ghost never communicates himself, by the infusion of this grace, but to a heart that is entirely dead to itself and its passions, and crucified to the world. This St. Ignatius understood so well, that hearing another once say, that a certain person was endowed with a great gift of contemplation, and was eminently a man of prayer, he corrected the expression, saying, “Call him rather a man of the most perfect self- denial;” because the spirit of grace and prayer requires a perfect purity and disengagement from all inordinate affections, and a heart empty of itself. This victory over himself the saint obtained by an habitual practice of the exterior mortification of his senses; and by that perfect patience, resignation, and confidence in God, and constancy with which he bore the most severe interior and exterior trials. To complete the most essential interior mortification of his will and passions, he added the practice of an unlimited obedience to his directors and superiors, and of the most profound and sincere humility. Even when broken with age and infirmities, he said, that should his holiness command it, he would with joy go on board the first ship he could find; and if he were so ordered, though it had neither sails nor rudder, and without any warning, would immediately set out for any part of the globe. It was his perpetual lesson to his novices,-”Sacrifice your will and judgment by obedience. Whatever you do without the consent of your spiritual guide will be imputed to wilfulness, not to virtue, though you were to exhaust your bodies by labours or austerities.”

Humility is the sister virtue of obedience, the foundation of a spiritual life, and the distinguishing mark or characteristic of all the saints. This virtue St. Ignatius embraced with the utmost ardour, from his first entering upon a spiritual course of life. He went a long time in old tattered rags, and lived in hospitals, despised, affronted, and persecuted; this he desired, and in it he found his great joy and satisfaction. He ever retained this affection for humiliations, out of a sincere contempt of himself; for acknowledging himself a sinner, he was thoroughly persuaded that contempt and injuries from all creatures, as instruments of the divine justice, were his due, and that he was most unworthy of all comforts, favour, or regard. Nothing but charity and zeal to procurehis neighbour’s good restrained him from doing ridiculous things on purpose to be laughed at by all; and he always practised such humiliations as were consistent with prudence and his other duties. All his actions, and whatever belonged to him, breathed an air of sincere humility. His apparel was poor, though clean; his bed was very mean, and his diet coarse, and so temperate, that it was a perpetual abstinence. He employed himself often most cheerfully in the meanest offices about the house, as in making beds, and in cleansing the chambers of the sick. It was his great study to conceal his virtues, and nothing was more admirable in his life than the address with which he covered his most heroic actions under the veil of humility. Though he was superior, he frequently submitted to inferiors with wonderful meekness and humility, when he could do it without prejudice to his authority. In things of which he was not certain, he readily acquiesced in the judgment of others; and was a great enemy to all positiveness, and to the use of superlatives in discourse. He received rebukes from any one with cheerfulness and thanks. If in his presence any thing was said that redounded to his praise, he showed an extreme confusion, which was usually accompanied with many tears. He was seldom heard to speak of himself, and never but on very pressing occasions. Though visions, revelations, and the like favours were frequently vouchsafed him, he scarce ever mentioned such things; but all his discourse was of humility, charity, patience, divine zeal, prayer, mortification, and other such virtues, of which we are to make the greatest account, and by which alone men become saints, and friends of God. Ribadeneira heard him say, that every one in the house was to him an example of virtue, and that he was not scandalized at any one besides himself.

It was his usual saying, that he did not think there was a man in the world that on one side received from God so great and continual favours, and yet on the other side was so ungrateful, and so slothful in his service as himself. It was his desire, that after his death, his body might be thrown upon some dunghill, in punishment of the sins he had committed by pampering it. The chief reasons why he would have his Order called the Society of Jesus, were lest his name should be given it, and that his followers might be known by their love and zeal for their Redeemer. As often as he spoke of his Order, he called it, “This least Society;” for he would have his children to look upon themselves as the last and least of all persons in the church.

From the perfect mortification of all his passions and inordinate affections resulted an admirable peace and evenness of mind which nothing seemed able ever to disturb or ruffle. His contempt of the world appeared by the disinterestedness with which he rejected legacies and presents whenever they might give occasion to complaints. When he looked up towards the heavens, he used feelingly to repeat, “How contemptible doth earth appear when I behold the heavens!”

Charity, or the most ardent and pure love of God, was the most conspicuous, and the crown of all his other virtues. He had often in his mouth these words, which he took for his motto or device, “To the greater glory of God,” referring to this end, with all his strength, himself, his Society, and all his actions, in which he always chose that which appeared to him the most perfect. He often said to God, “Lord, what do I desire, or what can I desire besides thee!” True love is never idle; and always to labour, to promote God’s honour, or to suffer for his sake, was this saint’s greatest pleasure. He said that no created thing can bring to a soul such solid joy and comfort as to suffer for Christ. Being asked what was the most certain and the shortest way to perfection, he answered, “To endure for the love of Christ many and grievous afflictions. Ask this grace of our Lord; on whomsoever he bestoweth it, he does him many other signal favours, that always attend this grace.” Out of this burning love of God he most ardently desired the separation of his soul from his mortal body, when it should be God’s will, and when he thought of death, he could not refrain from tears of joy, because he should then see his loving Redeemer; and, beholding God face to face, should love and praise him eternally, without let, abatement, or intermission.

From this same love of God sprang his ardent thirst for the salvation of men, for which he undertook so many and so great things, and to which he devoted his watchings, prayers, tears, and labours. When he dismissed any missionaries to preach the word of God, he usually said to them, “Go, brethren, inflame the world, spread about that fire which Jesus Christ came to kindle on earth.” To gain others to Christ, he, with admirable address, made himself all to all, going in at their door, and coming out at his own. He received sincere penitents with the greatest sweetness and condescension, so as often to take upon himself part of their penance. When a brother, growing weary of the yoke of Christ, had determined to leave the Society, St. Ignatius, by his remonstrances, made such an impression upon his heart, that, falling at the feet of the general, he offered to undergo whatever punishment he would impose upon him. To which the saint replied, “One part of your penance shall be, that you never repent more of having served God. For the other part, I take it upon myself, and will discharge it for you.” He endeavoured to bring all his penitents to make, without reserve, the perfect sacrifice of themselves to God, telling them, that it is not to be expressed what precious treasures God reserves for, and with what effusion he communicates himself to, those who give themselves to him with their whole heart. He proposed to them for their model this prayer, which he used often to recite:-”Receive, O Lord, all my liberty, my memory, my understanding, and my whole will. You have given me all that I have, all that I possess, and I surrender all to your divine will, that you dispose of me. Give me only your love, and your grace. With this I am rich enough, and I have no more to ask.”

St. Ignatius was general of the Society fifteen years, three months, and nine days; but was in the end so worn out with infirmities that he procured that the Society should choose him an assistant in that office. This was F. Jerom Nadal. After which, the saint reserved to himself only the care of the sick, and spent his time in continual prayer, and in preparing himself for death.

By way of his last will and testament, he dictated certain holy maxims concerning the obligation and conditions of religious obedience, which he bequeathed to his brethren of the Society. The saint, on the day before he died, charged F. Polancus to beg his holiness’s blessing for him at the article of death, though others at that time did not think it so near. The next morning having lifted up his eyes and hands to heaven, and pronouncing, both with his tongue and heart, the sweet name of Jesus, with a serene countenance, he calmly gave up his happy soul into the hands of his Creator on the last day of July, in the year 1556, the sixty-fifth of his age, the thirty-fifth after his conversion, and the sixteenth after the confirmation of the Society. The people esteemed him a saint both living and after his death; and the opinion of his sanctity was confirmed by many miracles. He saw his Society in very few years divided into twelve provinces, with above one hundred colleges, and spread over almost the whole world. In 1626, it contained thirty-six provinces, and in them eight hundred houses, and fifteen thousand Jesuits, since which time it is much increased. St. Ignatius’s body was buried first in the little church of the Jesuits, dedicated in honour of the Blessed Virgin in Rome. When Cardinal Alexander Farnesius had built the stately church of the professed house called Il Giesu, it was translated thither in 1587; and in 1637, was laid under the altar of the chapel, which bears his name. This church is one of the most magnificent examples of building in the world, next to the Vatican, and is not less admired for the elegance of the architecture than for its riches, consisting in costly beautiful ornaments of gold, silver, jewels, exquisite paintings, statues, and carving, and a great profusion of fine marble. Among the many chapels which it contains those of the Blessed Virgin, of the Angels, of SS. Abundius and Abundantius, martyrs, of St. Francis Borgia, and of St. Ignatius, are the admiration of travellers, especially the last, in which the remains of the holy founder lie, in a rich silver shrine under the altar, exposed to view. The other glittering rich ornaments of this place seem almost to lose their lustre when the statue of the saint is uncovered. It is somewhat bigger than the life, because raised high. Its bright shining gold, silver, and sparkling diamonds, especially in the crown of glory over the head, dazzle the eye. In the professed house are shown the pictures of St. Ignatius and St. Philip Neri, taken from the life. St. Ignatius’s chamber is now a chapel, his study is another, in which prelates, and sometimes popes, come to say mass on the saint’s festival. He was beatified by Paul V. in 1609, and canonized by Gregory XV in 1622, though the bull was only published the year following by Urban VIII.

The example of the saints evinces that to disengage our affections from earthly things, and to converse much in heaven by the constant union of our hearts to God, is the short road to Christian perfection. Those who are employed in the active life, ought to learn the art of accompanying all their actions with a lively attention to the divine presence, as our guardian angels are faithful in discharging every duty of that external ministry which God hath committed to them, yet so as never to intermit their contemplation of the Godhead, and their incessant homages of praise and love, which are the uninterrupted employment of their happy state. Without this precaution, by the hurry of dry studies, and even the discharge of the sacred ministry itself, the spirit of piety and devotion is extinguished in the heart, and the more sacred functions are easily profaned.

Footnotes:

1. Acts ii.

2. Acts xvi. 26.

3. Exer. Spir. Max. 2, 3.

4. See his edifying life by Raderus and Sacchini.

5. Bouhours, lib. iv.; Orlandin. Hist. Soc. lib. vii. c. 25.

6. Orland. Hist. Soc. lib. xvi.

7. Extant in Bartoli, lib. iv. p. 372.

8. Lib. iv. n. 29, p. 355.

********

Saint Jean B. M. Vianney Cure of Ars

(1785–1859. )

BY LADY HERBERT

INDEX

JEAN BAPTISTE MARIE VIANNEY was born in 1785 at Dardilly, a village not far from Lyons. His parents were respectable and pious people of the farmer class. His mother was specially noted for her great and deep religious feeling, and it was to her teaching that M. Vianney used to say he owed all his holiest impressions. But from a child the little Jean Marie was noted for his goodness and his love of God. Prayer was his delight, even at four years old, when, being one day missed, he was found on his knees in a corner of the stable. His loving mother would go every morning herself to wake her children, so that she might make them offer their little hearts to God and to secure that this should be their first thought. When she saw her little boy’s extraordinary devotion, her one idea was that he should some day become a priest. But she had many trials to go through ere this hope could be realised. First came the French Revolution, which swept away both throne and altar. Their parish church was closed-their priests exiled or murdered. Few and far between were the blessed seasons when the faithful were summoned to some carefully-guarded hiding-place, where Mass was said by some fugitive priest, at the peril of his life and theirs.

Little Jean Marie was then eight years o ld, and had the charge of the cows and sheep on his father’s farm, leading them out every day to browse in the fields near his home. Our Lord made this the school in which the boy, like another St. Vincent de Paul, was trained for the interior life. He became also a little apostle among his companions, to whom he would often speak of devotion to the Blessed Virgin, and, having placed a little picture of her against a willow tree (which is still shown), he would frequently say a “Hail Mary,” and was never so happy as when he could induce the other shepherd-boys to do the same.

Next to God, Jean Marie loved the poor. His parents were most kind and hospitable, and his greatest delight was to help his mother to prepare their beds or their food, and to deny himself every little delicacy to add to their store. If some were children like himself, he would gather them round the fire, and coax them by pious stories to listen to him and to make acts of faith, hope, and charity, and this was done so humbly and simply that none took offence, and many were touched to the heart by his words. Owing to the troubled state of the times, he did not make his first Communion till he was eleven years old, being prepared for it by some pious Sisters of the Order of St. Charles, who had taken refuge in the neighbouring parish of Ecully, where his grandfather was then living. From that moment he seemed to increase every day in fervour and piety, yet without ever neglecting his home duties. His obedience became a by-word in the family, so that his mother used to set him as an example to the rest. In the midst of the hard work he often had to do, he never lost the habit of interior prayer, nor his sense of the continual presence of God. He would often say later:

“When I was alone in th e fields ploughing or sowing I would pray aloud, but when others were with me I used to pray in my heart. Oh, those were happy days! I often used to say to myself, as I struck my hoe or my spade into the ground: “So I must cultivate my soul, to pluck up the evil weeds and to prepare it for the good seed of the good God.”“

At last the Revolution was at an end: the priests who remained returned to their flocks; and Ecully joyfully received back one of these confessors of the Faith, the Abbé Balley, who had often ministered to them during the days of terror at the peril of his life. His first care was to collect the boys and young men in his parish, and it was not long before he found out the holiness of Jean Marie. The sight of this holy priest at the altar made the deepest impression on the lad, and his longing to be able to devote himself body and soul to the glory of God and the good of souls increased daily. At last he opened his heart to the Abbé Balley, who encouraged him in every way; while so much was he beloved at Dardilly that all the neighbours offered to share in the expense of his education: His parents gladly gave their consent; but then a terrible difficulty arose. His education had been entirely neglected: he knew no science but that of the saints: his conception was slow and his memory unretentive. Sometimes he would be entirely disheartened. But one day the bright idea struck him to go on foot, asking alms as he went, to the tomb of St. John Francis Regis, and there to ask for the power of learning enough to become a priest. His faith was rewarded,, and the grace was obtained in a way which astonished both his masters and himself. All seemed to augur success in his vocation, when a new and a terrible blow fell upon him.

It was in the autumn of 1809; Napoleon’s wars had exhausted the youth of France; a fresh conscription was ordered, and Jean Marie, although inscribed on the list of students for the priesthood, found himself compelled to serve in the army, and was ordered to join his regiment at Bayonne. The grief of his family and friends may be imagined. Every effort was made in vain to find him a substitute. He alone kept up his courage and tried to submit cheerfully to the will of God. On his way to Bayonne he was taken so ill that he was placed in the Lyons hospital, and afterwards under the care of the Sisters of St. Augustine at Roanne. There he so far recovered as to be appointed to join a detachment then forming to join the army in Spain. On the way, a stranger came up to him and asked him why he looked so sad. Jean Marie told him his story; and the stranger begged him to follow him through the woods and mountain paths, till he brought him to a lonely house, where he was kindly welcomed by a newly-married couple who gave him food and shelter, while his guide suddenly and mysteriously disappeared. The next day he was taken to a village called Noes, where he was kindly received and carefully concealed by a woman named Fayot, whom he spoke of later as one of the most beautiful souls he had ever known. Here he opened a school, having changed his name to that of Jerome, to conceal himself from the search of the soldiers.

The painful suspense of his parents as to his fate was at last relieved by the good widow Fayot herself, who went to Ecully to see them and assure them of his safety. In 1810, his younger brother volunteered to take his place, and the exchange was accepted, so that after fourteen months absence he was able to return to his beloved studies. He was so much beloved at Noes that everyone in the place insisted on contributing something towards his outfit-one giving him a cassock, another table-napkins, and the like. Soon after his return he was sent to the little Seminary of Verrieres to go through his course of philosophy. Here he had much to suffer from his fellow students, who, seeing that in intellectual acquirements he was their inferior, treated him as a simpleton. But his masters, though at first they had failed to appreciate the noble qualities of their slow and timid student, were soon filled with admiration of his uniform and constant piety. His companions were not slow to make the same discovery, and, conscious of their previous injustice, did all in their power to show their love for and appreciation of him. In 1813 he began his study of theology under his old friend, Abbé Balley; but when the moment of his examination came, his memory became a blank, and he made such incoherent replies that the examiners summarily dismissed him. M. Balley went at once to the Superior of the seminary and entreated him to come next day, with the Vicar-General, and examine his pupil in private. The result was most satisfactory, and he was at once admitted to the great Seminary of St. Irenaeus to prepare for Holy Orders.

When the time for his ordination drew near, however, the same difficulty arose. Jean Marie, in spite of the humility, sweetness, and piety which had won the esteem of all, was sadly deficient in the learning usually required for candidates for the priesthood. Again Abbé Balley sought an interview with the Vicar-General, M. Courbon, who administered the diocese in the absence of the Archbishop, Cardinal Fesch, and who was remarkable for his discernment of character. On hearing from all his superiors that, whatever might be his deficiency in learning, he was a model of piety, he at once exclaimed, “That is enough. I will receive him-Divine Grace will do the rest.” He was accordingly ordained sub-deacon at Lyons by the Bishop of Grenoble, deacon the July following, and six months after was ordained priest at the same place. This was on the 9th of August, 1815, he being then twenty-nine years of age.

His first appointment was as curate to his old friend and master, M. Balley, with whom he remained for two years till the death of this venerable priest, of whom M. Vianney wrote: “He died like the saint he was; and his pure soul departed to add new joy to Paradise.” The people of Ecully tried hard to obtain M. Vianney as his successor, but he steadily refused, alleging his own unworthiness. Three months later he was appointed Curé of Ars, a little village in the Department of Trévoux.

The peasants in this place were in a state of the utmost ignorance and spiritual poverty. How was their new pastor to win their hearts and bring them to a better state of mind ? He had but two weapons: one, incessant prayer; the other, the fervent preaching of the word of God. To this he added the tenderest charity; so that each one of his flock felt he was loved and cared for. His great desire was to establish in his church the perpetual adoration of the Blessed Sacrament: but where was he to find adorers? At last, he found a few faithful souls who were willing to join him. First, the lady who lived in the chateau, or big house of the place, Mlle. d”Ars, whose time was divided between prayer and the care of the poor and sick. Then a simple peasant joined them, who, whether going to his work or returning from it, never failed to go into the church and adore his Lord. M. Vianney once asked him what he said when he knelt before the Tabernacle. “I say nothing,” the old man replied; “but I look at Him and He looks at me!” Then came a poor widow named Bibot and a Mme. Pignaut, who had come from Lyons to be under M. Vianney’s pastoral care. Thus a little group was formed, who began the day with Holy Mass and ended it with night prayers and the Rosary said in common. Very soon, other members of the congregation followed the good example; and, to the joy of the good Curé, all the village came at last, after their day’s work, for half an hour’s prayer before going to bed.

To encourage them in more frequent Communion, to stop Sunday labour and to induce the young girls in the parish to join in a Confraternity of the Rosary were the next objects of his zeal; in all of these he way eminently successful. Then came the decoration of the neglected parish church, in which he was greatly assisted by the Vicomte d”Ars, who sent him a splendid tabernacle, candlesticks, and reliquaries for his new altar. To show his joy and gratitude, he and all his flock made a pilgrimage to Notre Dame de Fourvieres at Lyons. Then he built various small chapels: one dedicated to St. John the Baptist, his patron; the next, to St. Philomena . . . his “dear little saint,” as he called her; who obtained everything by her prayers, and to whom he attributed all the graces and wonders which were done at Ars.

After five years in the parish, M. Vianney was appointed to the parish of Saller, an important place in the Beaujolais. He did not refuse to go, but still most earnestly wished to remain in his obscure village. Thrice he packed his poor furniture for departure, and thrice the inundation of the Saone rendered it impossible. In the meantime his flock redoubled their prayers and remonstrances to the Bishop and the Vicar-General, and at last they were persuaded to cancel the appointment and leave the beloved Curé in peace.

From that time till his death, M. Vianney never left his parish, save to assist neighbouring priests occasionally in giving missions and retreats. In one that he gave at Trévoux, in 1823, the number of conversions was so great that he was beset with similar applications; but he accepted such work only when he could do so without neglecting his beloved parishioners at Ars. In 1825 he began an important work in his parish, which was the founding of an asylum for orphan and destitute girls, which he called “La Providence.” To purchase a house for this purpose he sold all he had in the world and anticipated all he received from his living. He placed it under the care of two very pious women whom he had himself trained in obedience, humility, simplicity, and absolute dependence on God-Benoite Lardet and Catherine Lassagne. They began in the utmost poverty, without even bread, but, trusting in Divine Providence, their wants were, one by one, supplied. Soon the number of the orphans increased to such a degree that the house had to be enlarged. The Curé became at once architect, mason, and carpenter-he made the mortar, cut the stones and carried them with his own hands; so that, fired with a like zeal, the whole parish came to help in the work. Over and over again, food was miraculously multiplied in answer to his prayers; his granary was filled with corn and his cellar with wine; while money poured in from the most unexpected quarters and always at the moment of his greatest need. The type upon which he had founded his Home was rather that of a poor and pious family than of a charitable institution. It embraced none of the modern systems of learning; but the girls were taught to write and sum, besides needlework and knitting, the rest of the time being filled up by household duties. The Curé gave them catechetical instruction every day himself, speaking to them of the chief truths of faith and, above all, of the fear and love of God. These little instructions have been collected by his old friend, the Abbé Monnin, and are models of beautiful and touching teaching on the Sacraments, on the practice of certain special virtues, and the sweetness of the Real Presence.

We have said nothing yet of the heroic life of the Curé d”Ars. There are few even among the saints whose daily lives bear the mark of a more systematic and unflinching crucifixion of the whole man, a more uniform practice of both exterior and interior mortification, than we find in the portrait traced of him by those most familiar with the details of his really supernatural existence. His ordinary food consisted of some pieces of black bread, or some potatoes, which he boiled for himself once a week. In vain did his pious housekeeper or any friend make him some little delicacy; it went instantly to the poor and sick. He had at first a straw palliasse on his bed, but, finding that too luxurious, he slept latterly on the floor with a stone for his pillow. His whole day, with very short exceptions, was spent in the church, and he rarely allowed himself more than two or three hours” sleep. When his confessional became so crowded that from midnight the people were waiting for their turn, he reduced the already small amount of rest allowed his worn-out body. As to his clothes, though particular as to cleanliness, he never would have more than one cassock, which he wore till it was in rags; his hat was shapeless and his boots were guiltless of blacking. Yet, in this guise, he would attend ecclesiastical conferences and other clerical meetings, and, in answer to the raillery of his companions, would reply: “What I have got on is quite good enough for the Curé d”Ars,” thus adding humiliation to mortification.

The sufferings inflicted on him by the devil were added to those which he so mercilessly waged upon his poor body, and for years interrupted the little sleep which he had allowed himself. His biographer states that this persecution went on, with more or less violence, for a period of thirty years. Not only were horrible noises heard, which alarmed everyone who came to the house, but terrible doubts of his salvation, fear of hell, and other spiritual conflicts were added to his physical tortures. Yet what must have been the courage of a man who could hold out, night after night, against this continual, sensible pressure of the powers of evil, and return to his daily labour for souls with a brow so unruffled and a voice as calm and soothing as if none but ministering angels had been suffered to come near his bed! His brother priests often laughed at him for these “hallucinations,” as they called them; and some went so far as to treat him as a visionary and a maniac. One evening, when he was giving a retreat at St. Trivier-surMoignans, this raillery took a bitter tone. “Your presbytery,” they said, “is nothing better than an old barn; the rats are quite at home there, and you take them for devils!” The holy Curé said nothing, but retired to his room rejoicing in humiliation. That very night, however, the scoffers were rudely awakened by a fearful noise. The presbytery seemed upside down, the walls shook as if with an earthquake, while fearful cracks seemed to threaten to bring down the whole house. Everyone rushed out of bed and to the Curé’s room, whom they found resting. “Get up,” they cried; “the presbytery is falling!” “Oh, no,” he replied; “I know very well what it is. Go back to your beds. There is nothing to fear.” They never after this jested at his nightly disturbances!

These violent noises almost always coincided with some wonderful manifestation of Divine Grace in the conversion of noted sinners: so that the holy Curé accepted the trial patiently for their sakes. One day, when there was a great celebration of the Forty Hours” Adoration of Ars, a strong smell of burning pervaded the place, and it was found that the humble bed and all the furniture of the Curé’s room were burnt, including the few poor holy pictures round his bed; yet the floor remained unscathed, though, being old wood, it would have caught fire instantly had the conflagration been a natural one. The Curé, as it happened, had been all night in adoration. When told of the event, he said, laughing: “As he could not burn the man, he has consoled himself by burning his bed. Today I think I am the poorest man in the parish. They all have beds, and now, thank God! I have none.” Somebody having begun to pity him, he answered, quickly: “Oh, there is less harm in this than in the slightest venial sin.”

But it was not only the evil spirit who was permitted thus to torment him. The Curé d”Ars would have wanted one essential mark of sanctity if this persecution had not been accompanied by the dislike and misrepresentations of even good men. He bore his trial for more than eight years; but he lived it down. A meeting had been held by the most influential clergy in the neighbourhood, who resolved to make a formal complaint to the new Bishop of Belley “of the imprudent zeal and mischievous enthusiasm of this ignorant and foolish Curé.” Mgr. Devie sent his Vicar-General to Ars to inquire into the whole matter, who returned edified and delighted with all he had seen and heard. “I wish you, gentlemen, a little of that folly at which you scoff. It would do no harm to your supposed wisdom.” Such was the verdict of the good and holy Bishop after a most minute inquiry. Never during that terrible trial did word or look betray what M. Vianney suffered, or mar the serenity of his face. Believing himself to be deserving of all the blame cast upon him, he always expected to be ignominiously dismissed from his curé.

Yet he worked on just as hard and just as calmly. To a priest who one day came to complain of the wearisome and unjust persecution towhich he was subjected; he replied: “My friend, do as I do. Let them say all they have to say; then there will be no more to be said, and they will be silent.” He practised to the letter the maxim so often on his lips: “The saints never complain.” When asked how he could possibly, under the continual threatening of dismissal and amidst the wearing vexation of this strife of tongues, have preserved his energy and the self-command necessary to labour on with unabated ardour and perseverance, he replied: “We do much more for God when we do the same things without pleasure or satisfaction.” To the jealousy and calumnies of the good were added the bitter enmity of the bad, who dared to accuse this man, an example of the most austere penance and modest gravity, of being a vile hypocrite and of leading an evil and scandalous life. When someone was expressing his indignation at such imputations on his spotless purity, he answered:

“I am sorry that God should be offended: but, on the other hand. I rejoice in all t hat is said against me, because the condemnation of the world is the benediction of God. I was afraid of being a hypocrite when people were making some account of me; and I am very glad to see that unfounded estimation of me turned into contempt.”

Thus did his humility defeat every wile of the devil. It was at this very time that the concourse of pilgrims to Ars began to increase in so wonderful a manner. His great miracles and his great works (supported by abundant alms) date also from this period.

But this faithful disciple of his Divine Master was to drink the draught of His own chalice -that dereliction of soul which is the heaviest of all trials to one who loves God with his whole heart. The Abbé Baux, who was his confessor for many years, affirms that his soul was habitually subject to the bitterest desolation. Our Lord hid from him the immense good which He was working by his means. He honestly believed himself to be utterly useless and devoid of piety, understanding, knowledge, discernment, or virtue. “He was continually haunted,” writes his great friend, Abbé Monnin, “by confusion for past faults and by fears of faults to come; and by the constant dread he had of doing ill on every occasion.” “I have no resource against temptations to despair,” he once said, “but to throw myself before the Tabernacle, like a little dog at his master’s feet.”

His intense appreciation of the sanctity required of the ministers of the sanctuary was another source of suffering. Speaking one day of the difficulty of corresponding with a true priest’s vocation, he exclaimed:

“Ah, to say Mass one ought to be a seraph. If we really knew what Mass is we should die! We shall never understand how blessed a thing it is to say Mass till we are in heaven. How pitiable is the state of that priest who does this as an ordinary thing! There are some who have begun well and said Mass devoutly for some months; and afterwards . . .” Here his voice was choked with tears. “Oh, when we consider what it is that our Great God has entrusted to us, miserable creatures that we are! . . . What does the mischief is, all this worldly news, this conversation, these politics, these newspapers. We fill our heads with them:then we go and say our Mass or our Office. . . . . We do not enter enough into ourselves: we do not know what we are doing. What we want is more reflection, more prayer, more union with God. Oh, how unhappy is a priest who is not interior! . . . One of our great misfortunes is that our souls become callous. At first, we are deeply moved at the state of those who do not love God. At last, we come to say: “These people do their duty well, so much the better: these others keep away from the Sacraments, so much the worse!” and we do nothing-neither more nor less-in consequence.

“Ah!” he continued, “there is no one in this world so unhappy, very often, as a priest. In what does he pass his life? In beholding the good God offended; His Holy Name blasphemed; His commandments continually violated; His love continually outraged. The priest is like St. Peter in the praetorium of Pilate. He has always before his eyes his Lord insulted, despised, mocked, covered with ignominy. It is horrible. If only God were less good! But He is so good! What will be our shame when the Day of judgment discovers to us our ingratitude! We shall then understand it; but it will be too late.”

In spite of all these mental and bodily sufferings, however, there was no outward indication of the conflict within, so great was the strength and the patience with which he possessed his soul.

The pilgrimage to Ars, which, for a period of thirty years, seemed to bring back a scene from the days of St. Bernard to the unbelieving nineteenth century, began shortly after the foundation of the “Providence” asylum. “Divine Providence,” wrote M.Leon Aubineau, “so ordered it that men and women enamoured of all kinds of vanities should come in crowds to this out-of-the-way village to do homage to humility and simplicity. While the philosophers of our day are all inveighing against Confession and its consequences, the people have replied by flocking to Ars to venerate a confessor!”

Persons of the highest rank and most refined and luxurious habits were content to be ill-lodged, ill-fed, to rise at daylight or before, to be squeezed, elbowed, repulsed; braving cold, hunger, thirst, fatigue, want of sleep and all to catch a few words from the holy Curé. They would not have done as much for any king or queen.

In 1835 it was found necessary to organise a regular system of public conveyances from Lyons to Ars, and of steamboats on the Saone. M. Vianney soon arrived at that state to which St. Philip Neri bound himself by vow-never to have an hour or a moment to himself. From that year he was dispensed by the Bishop from the usual pastoral retreat. “You have no need of a retreat,” said the Bishop; “and there are souls at Ars which have urgent need of you.” M. Monnin states that, even in 1848, the number of the pilgrims amounted to 80,000 in the course of the year, and they went on steadily increasing. They were admitted to his confessional each in his turn; but M. Vianney would sometimes call out of the crowd such as, by the supernatural light vouchsafed to him, he perceived to be in most urgent need of spiritual succour. No other claim of precedence was allowed.

It was this daily and unremitting labour for souls which constituted the real miracle of the life of M. Vianney, which was, in fact, passed in the confessional. Of the twenty-two hours he gave to labour, he reserved only time to say his Mass andOffice and to snatch the semblance of a meal at midday. Two hours only were given to sleep. At one o‘clock in the morning he was in his confessional in the chapel of St. John the Baptist till six or seven o‘clock, according to the season, when he left it to prepare to say Mass. So closely did the crowd press upon him that it was necessary to clear a passage for him whenever he stirred. After Mass, be blessed the various objects of piety which were presented to him, drank a little milk which had been brought to him in the sacristy, and then heard the confessions of forty or fifty men who had been waiting all night. At ten o‘clock he closed the sacristy door and said his Office, kneeling on the floor without any support. When that had been done, he went to a little room under the belfry, where he confessed the sick or those who could not wait any longer at Ars. At eleven o‘clock he catechised. As he went down from the pulpit, the throng was thicker than ever. At twelve, he went to his poor dinner, the people watching for him at every outlet from the house. At half-past twelve he went to the “Providence” on parish business, or to visit the sick. Then he returned to the church, said Vespers on his knees and went back to his confessional till night.

It might have been supposed that labours so incessant and absorbing would have prevented him from giving his full attention to each soul in particular. Nothing could be farther from the truth. There was not one of his penitents who might not have believed him or her self to be the object of his special solicitude. He had that great art and wisdom which enables a man to concentrate his whole mind on the present moment; so that amidst the overwhelming pressure of such a multitude of people, he listened to the penitent at his feet as if he had nothing else to do or to think of. Such for thirty years was the life of the Curé of Ars. A man of the world wrote not long ago: “People speak of the miracles at Ars; but the greatest of all was the laborious and penitential life of M. Vianney. That a man could do what he did, and do it every day, without ever growing weary or sinking under it, is what surpasses all human comprehension. This is to me the miracle of miracles.”

In the beginning of May 1843, however, he was seized with an illness which threatened to be his last. The concourse of pilgrims in May had been immense, and at length even his giant strength gave way. He had previously been attacked by the fever which was so prevalent in the unhealthy atmosphere of the district, and was ever afterwards subject to acute headaches, which he bore with his accustomed calm and cheerfulness; but this time his health gave way so completely that the Last Sacraments were administered to him. The despair and desolation of his flock may be imagined. Then he begged that a Mass might be said for him at the altar of St. Philomena, when he fell into a peaceful slumber, which was the precursor of his perfect recovery. He attributed his cure entirely, under God to the intercession of his “dear little saint,” as he called her. A profound terror of the judgments of God and an intense fear of death characterised this first severe illness of the holy Curé; but when the hour of the departure really came, sixteen years later, there was no trace of this fear, which had then given place to the simple trustfulness of a little child sinking to rest in its mother’s arms.

On his recovery, the Bishop insisted on his accepting a coadjutor, and appointed M. Raymond, the Curé of Savigneux, to assist him. But M. Vianney no sooner saw him installed than he thought he might now leave his work in better hands than his own, and that Divine Providence had thus interfered to set him free to follow the long-cherished wish of his heart for perfect solitude; or, as he expressed it, “to weep over his own poor sins, so that God might perchance have mercy on him.” He had run away once, “three years before, one very dark night, when an interior voice called him back to Ars. Now, however, on the plea of health, he went back to his old home at Dardilly, on foot and by wayside paths, lest he should be pursued and forcibly brought back.

The whole parish was in utter consternation. His flock followed him to Dardilly, so that he felt he must seek some other refuge. In the meanwhile, the Bishop positively forbade him to leave his diocese and begged him to go with M. Raymond and make a pilgrimage to the chapel of Beaumont, an ancient sanctuary of Our Lady. They went into the church to say their Office when they arrived; and, on rising from their knees to go out, found, to their astonishment, that the whole church was filled. M. Raymond told him that he could not do less than say a few words to these poor people, on which the Curé began to speak to them on the love of God, and his voice, which had been so weak since his illness, was restored to him, so that he could be heard by the whole church. The next morning they both said Mass; and, during his thanksgiving, M. Vianney, turning to his companion, said, suddenly: “Let us return to Ars !”

His flock were overjoyed. The labourer left his work, the thresher threw down his flail, the women ran out of their houses. At last a cry arose: “Here is our Saint!” and his children crowded round him, struggling which should be the first to get his blessing, to touch his cassock, to kiss his feet. He went straight to the church and said the evening prayers, amid the joyful and grateful tears of the people. Like his Divine Master, the Curé d”Ars having fled from the applause of men, returned to consummate his sacrifice.

Once more, however, was the temptation to escape to come over him, for he always felt and said “that it was a fearful thing to pass from the cure of souls to the tribunal of God.”

He had raised funds for the foundation of a society of missionaries, which was established at Pont d”Ain, and which enabled missions to be preached in ninety parishes of the diocese. Mgr. Devie’s greatest wish was to connect this house with Ars, so that the example of the holy Curé should be continually before the eyes of his young priests. This design was carried out by his successor, Mgr. Chalandon, who, in 1853, appointed Abbé Toccanier, one of the missionaries at Pont d”Ain, to go to Ars and assist M. Vianney. Here was a favourable opportunity for the good Curé to put, as he expressed it, “a better man in his place.” The serious illness of his brother gave him the pretext, and, in spite of the efforts of his flock, he again set out in a carriage provided for the purpose. But he had scarcely started when he was seized with a most unusual feeling of fatigue. He got out of the carriage to get some fresh air, and tried to walk, but in vain. M. Toccanier, who was with him, offered to go on to his brother and replace him. M. Vianney accepted, and no sooner had he turned his horse’s head towards Ars than all feelings of weakness and illness disappeared. He was met by the omnibus from Lyons, full of pilgrims, some of whom had not been to confession for forty years. “You see,” said his friend, “that the good God stopped you Himself this time, to bring you back to the work so dear to Him-the saving of souls.” M. Vianney smiled, but the lesson had not been lost upon him. He now understood that what he had fancied was an inspiration, was, in fact, a temptation; and never again strove to leave the path which God had so visibly pointed out to him.

The celebrity which became so keen a suffering to this humble and holy man of God increased as time went on, and was the more extraordinary from the fact that it rested on his sanctityalone. One distinguished pilgrim exclaimed: “He is the very model of that childlike spirit which Jesus loved; and, therefore, it is that God is with him.” Another, a celebrated poet, was so struck by his appearance that he involuntarily said out aloud, “I have never seen God so near.” “True, my friend,” instantly said M. Vianney, pointing to the Blessed Sacrament exposed on the altar, “God is not far from us; we have Him there, in the sanctuary of His love.”

Not only eminent laymen from all parts of the world flocked to his confessional, but Bishops and Princes of the Church. Among these was Mgr. Dupanloup, who came filled with fear on receiving the burden of the episcopate. “There are many Bishops in the calendar of saints,” replied M. Vianney, “but hardly any curés. Judge, Monseigneur, whether you have as much cause to tremble as I!”

In May, 1854, the Bishop of Birmingham, Dr. Ullathorne, came, and has left a graphic account of the extraordinary impression the Curé produced upon him. He was speaking of prayer for England, and of the sufferings of our poorer Catholics on account of their Faith, while the Curé was listening, his eyes nearly closed; when, all of a sudden, he opened them wide, and, fixing them on the Bishop with extraordinary brilliancy, exclaimed in a tone of confident assurance: “I believe and am sure that the Church in England will return again to its ancient splendour!”

Père Lacordaire paid him a visit the previous year, and listened in silent reverence to the words and advice of the holy Curé. When M. Vianney heard who it was, he exclaimed: “That which is greatest in science is come to humble itself to what is least in ignorance; the two extremes have met.” He had the greatest dislike to having his portrait taken, and, on one occasion, when a very holy painter came with a letter from the Bishop, to beg for a sitting, he replied: “Willingly- provided Monseigneur will permit me to leave the place directly afterwards!” The poor artist was compelled to catch the likeness by stealth, and that with difficulty.

Among the marks of honour he received was the dignity of Canon conferred upon him by Mgr. Chalandon, and the Cross of the Legion of Honour, sent to him by the Emperor. He never wore his Canon’s dress except at the ceremony of his receptionby the Chapter; and, as to the Cross, all he said was: “I can’t conceive what made the Emperor send me this, except for having been once a deserter!” He had opened the case containing it, supposing it was a relic or something for his church; and his lookof blank disappointment was well remembered, as he said: “It’s nothing but this, after all.”

We have said nothing of M. Vianney’s personal appearance. He was rather short, and, though not devoid of vigour, yet his whole frame indicated a highly nervous temperament. Up to the last, his hearing retained its acuteness, his sight its keenness, his mind its clearness and his memory its freshness, and that up to the very day of his death. Yet his body had reached such a degree of extenuation as to seem almost transparent. His head fell slightly forward on his breast, from the habit of recollection and adoration. His hair fell thick and long, like a white aureole, round his head. On that emaciated face there was no token of aught earthly or human; it bore the impress of divine grace alone. The eyes alone betokened life; they shone with exceeding lustre. There was a kind of supernatural fire in M. Vianney’s glance, which continually varied in intensity and expression. That glance dilated and sparkled when he spoke of the love of God, while the thought of sin veiled it with a mist of tears. It was by turns sweet and piercing. terrible and loving, child-like and profound. It was a very furnace of tenderness and compassion when fixed upon anyone. It had that mysterious power of attraction bestowed by Our Lord upon those closely united to Himself; and, wonderful to say, that glance, which searched all hearts, never frightened anyone. Without thinking or knowing it, this man, so weak in bodily presence, drew to himself all who came near him and within the sphere of his influence. Once to meet his eye, or hear his voice, was to be fascinated by him for ever. Men of the world have acknowledged that after they had seen the Curé d”Ars, his image seemed to haunt them and his resemblance to follow them wherever they went, so vivid was the impression of his sanctity.

Next to his eyes, the most remarkable thing in the face of the Curé d”Ars was his profile, the lines of which were bold, harmonious and well defined. Although the sweetness and serenity of his face betokened the divine peace which dwelt within him, yet his characteristic expression, when at rest, was a kind of supernatural sadness. But when he came forth from his habitual state of recollection to converse with men, it was a bright and gracious smile which was ever ready to respond to every look turned upon him. In fact, there was not one of his features which then did not seem to smile. In conversation he was gentle, cheerful and even playful. The spirit of God which dwelt within him gave to his lightest word an incomparable sweetness fitness and simplicity. As “he always said the people say of others now and then, right thing in the right way.” When Mgr. Chalandon came for his visitation, he met him with the words:

“Monseigneur, the days on which your holy predecessor visited our parish were days of benediction, and no wonder, for where the saints pass, God passes with them. We have lost nothing Monseigneur: on the contrary, we have gained, for Mgr. Devie still blesses us from heaven, and you, whom he chose to carry on his work, bless us on earth. Bless us, Monseigneur; bless the pastor, bless the flock, that we may always, and altogether, dearly love our good God.”

To Mgr. de Langalerie, who said to him: “My good Curé, will you kindly permit me to say Mass in your church?” he at once replied: “Monseigneur, I am only sorry that it is not Christmas, that you might say three.”

At the end of the long procession on Corpus Christi, one of his friends wanted him to take some food. He refused, saying: “I do not need it. How should I be tired? I have been bearing Him Who bears me.”

A religious once said to him, with great simplicity:

“Father, people believe generally that you are very ignorant.” “They are quite right, my child,” he replied; “but it does not matter. I can teach you more than you will practise.” We might multiply such speeches were we not afraid of exceeding the space allotted to us.

It is a difficult task to preserve perfect tranquillity amidst incessant activity; recollection amidst the most absorbing exterior labours; entire sweetness and self-possession and constant union with God in the midst of hurry, noise, and an undue pressure of work. But the Curé d”Ars rose superior to this trial. At whatever moment he might be seen- surrounded, pressed, assailed by the indiscreet multitude; harassed by absurd and idle questions; tormented by impossible requests; called hither and thither; intercepted whichever way he turned; not knowing how or whom to answer first-he was always himself, never irritable or impatient, always gracious, always amiable, always compassionate, always ready to yield and grant everything to all with a sweet, calm, and smiling countenance. It was impossible to detect a cloud on his brow, or the slightest shade of annoyance or discontent; still less did anyone ever hear a word of reproach or complaint from his lips. Again, when, towards the last years of his life, he was surrounded by the most clamorous and unrestrained tokens of respect, confidence, admiration, and veneration; applauded, followed, borne in triumph by the multitude; when he saw them haunting his steps, hanging on his words, kneeling for his blessing-still he was the same; simple, modest, humble, ingenuous as a child; never seeming for a moment to suspect that his own sanctity had anything whatever to do with this extraordinary concourse, or with the miracles acclaimed by so many tongues.

Another remarkable feature in his sanctity was his extraordinary consistency. Most men have their good and bad days; their hour of weakness, irritability or the like. With him it was otherwise. He was watched day and night, day after day, week after week, and he was never known or seen to act but in the most perfect manner. In all he did, he combined the utmost purity of intention with the greatest intensity of fervour, so that it was impossible for those about him to find an instance in which he might have done better what he had in hand. The tender and considerate kindness which was one of his striking characteristics sprang, in part, from his total self-forgetfulness. He who never sought for sympathy under the severest sufferings of mind and body, gave all he had to those around him, especially to the poor, the weak, the ignorant and the sinful. He was as sensitively careful of and anxious for the health of his missionaries as he was sternly regardless of his own. “On one of my first Sundays,” writes M. Toccanier, “he remarked that I coughed at vespers. What was my astonishment to see him come in to me, after night prayers, through a violent storm, with his little lantern in his hand, and say: “My dear friend, I fear you have a bad cough. Stay in bed tomorrow morning. I will say the first Mass in your place and catechize the children.””

To buy for one a warm cloak, for another an umbrella, and for a third some other material comfort, were daily proofs of this tender consideration of those about him which was carried into all the most insignificant details of daily life. He never sat down in the presence of others, nor allowed others to stand in his own. How could anyone help loving a man who was himself so full of love? It was not by alms that he won all hearts, but by his loving tenderness and sympathy; by the active and heartfelt interest which he took in others. With the growth of his interior life, his solicitude for his neighbour seemed to develop day by day.

Of the theological virtues of Faith, Hope, and Charity we have given already sufficient examples in the holy Curé’s life. During Mass he seemed actually to see Our Lord, and when the Blessed Sacrament was exposed the expression on his face was such that it riveted the attention of all who saw him. He had received the gift of prayer in a super-eminent degree, together with a constant realisation of the presence of God. Yet he had not the smallest affectation or singularity in his devotions, and deprecated any posture in church which might attract attention.

“M. Vianney,” wrote one of his biographers, “had but one thought-to love God and to make Him be loved by others. Always God’s work-never the slightest admixture of his own. Never did he allow himself the most trifling relaxation and never an instant’s respite.” “It is impossible to conceive,” wrote Catherine Lassagne. “how much M. le Curé had at heart the salvation of souls.” He laboured and wept for them by day; he suffered for them by night. To satisfy his burning charity and insatiable liberality, he would sell all he possessed, even to his clothes. “We should never repulse the poor,” hewould say. “If we cannot really give them anything, let us pray that someone else may be inspired to do so. People scold me and say: “They will make a bad use of their money.” Let them make what use of it they will. They will have to answer for the use they make of your alms; but you will have to answer for not giving it if you can.” Money, however, poured in to him from all quarters, and not only money, but food and wine were miraculously supplied to him on several occasions. When he wanted to make a foundation he would simply pray to Our Lady or one of the saints: “If this work be pleasing to thee, send me the means to carry it out,” and his simple faith was invariably rewarded. The sum he received for the single work of the mission amounted to 200,000 francs; and this was only one of the many great works he was permitted to accomplish. To a priest, who was in despair for money to finish his church, he said: “My secret is very simple- it is only to pray, and when you have obtained what you have asked for, to give everything and keep nothing.”

Of the austerity of his life we have already spoken, as also of the severity of his bodily sufferings; but he mortified himself in a hundred little ways besides. He would never smell a flower, never drink when parched with thirst, never brush off a fly, never appear to be conscious of an unpleasant smell, never express disgust at any repulsive sight, never complain of anything whatever which affected him personally, never lean against anything when kneeling, and so on. He suffered terribly from cold; but would never take any means to preserve himself from it, and once, during a very severe winter, both his feet were frozen.

Love, humility, poverty, mortification-these were the links of the chain which carried this marvellous soul to heaven. He would often say: “We have nothing of our own but our will, and a single act of renunciation of that is more pleasing to God than fasts or disciplines.

Even in the world we may at all times find opportunities for this renunciation. We can deprive ourselves of a visit which would give us pleasure: we can perform some distasteful work of charity: we can go to rest a little later or get up a little earlier. Of the two things to be done, we can choose that which is the least pleasant to us. It is this which makes saints.”

“Who was your master in theology?” was once ironically asked of the Curé d”Ars. “I had the same Master as St. Peter,” he replied with the utmost simplicity. His faith, in fact, was the only source of his science-his only book, Our Lord Jesus Christ. He spoke without any other preparation than his habitual recollection in God and with that perfect self-possession which arose from entire forgetfulness of self. He thought only of the souls before him, and made them think only of God. This stood him instead of any great talent or rhetoric, and gave to the simplest words he uttered a singular power and irresistible authority. “It was his whole being that preached,” wrote the Abbé Monnin, “and the power and energy of his words struck home to his hearers even without the beauty of imagery which abounded in his sermons.” “Those who only heard him in his catechetical instructions,” writes M. Monnin, “only half knew his power. It was in his Sunday discourses that the apostle, the prophet, the saint, consumed with thirst for the salvation of souls, came forth in his full power and mastery.”

In the words of Mgr. Devie, “the Curé d”Ars was not learned, but he was specially enlightened by the spirit of God”; and the extraordinary gift of illumination with which he was endowed shone forth pre-eminently in his direction of souls. His singular gift of discernment enabled him to give that counsel to every person who came to him which proved to be the most conducive to the perfection of each. One he would advise to enter a religious Order; another to wait till some home duty had been discharged; he would advise a third to marry, a fourth to lead a single life in the world, and so on. With loving playfulness he would answer one girl who had been pouring out a long story which he knew by heart: “My child! in which month of the year do you talk least?” and, as she bit her lips in silence, he added: “It must be the month of February, because it has three days less in it than any other!”

A parish priest came to him one day with a very complicated case upon which no one he had hitherto consulted had been able to throw any light. M. Vianney replied with one word, which threw so vivid and instantaneous a light on the subject that the priest was amazed and overjoyed. “Where did you study theology?” he exclaimed. M. Vianney pointed to his prie-dieu. So great was the estimation in which his judgment was held, that there was not a charity or religious congregation founded in France during his life which was not first submitted to him. In this way Mde. Eugénie Smet laid her plans before him when she was thinking of starting her congregation for the relief of the souls in Purgatory. She begged him to pray specially for this project on All Souls” Day. The holy Curé remained for some time with his head between his hands. Then he looked up and said with tears: “This is the work which God has been so long asking for.” He then dictated a letter to her, which began as follows: “The idea of founding an Order for the relief of the souls in Purgatory comes directly from the Heart of Our Lord, Who will bless and prosper it.”

The sketch of this holy man’s life would be incomplete if we did not say a few words of the miracles which were worked in answer to his prayers. These were, of course, submitted to official investigation during the process of his beatification; and they are attested by too many eyewitnesses to admit of any doubt. The first, in 1838, was the cure of one of the directresses of the “Providence” who had been entirely given up by the doctors, and was, in fact, in her agony. The Curé prayed earnestly to St. Philomena, and she was instantly restored to health and strength. A poor soldier had a crippled child, and brought him to the Curé. “Be consoled,” he said; “your child will be cured.” And the words were hardly out of his mouth when the boy jumped up and began to walk. A similar cure occurred with another child, whose mother had travelled many miles to bring him to Ars, and who for twenty-four hours had hung upon his steps, holding up her boy with a gesture of such faith and entreaty that no one had the heart to drive her away. That evening the boy begged his mother to buy him some shoes, as the Curé had told him he would walk the next day. Full of faith, the poor woman did so, and was rewarded by seeing her child run to the church, crying out: “I am cured! I am cured!” The mother only implored to be allowed to thank him. The Curé was inexorable. Later he was told that he must help her to thank St. Philomena, to whom he always attributed all his cures. Then he exclaimed in a tone of mortification: “St. Philomena really ought to have cured this little thing at home!”

Endless tales of the same kind are recorded; and still more wonderful were the miracles of grace of which he was the channel. This was emphatically his work, to which the bodily cures wrought at Ars were but secondary. A noted atheist was persuaded by a friend to accompany him to Ars. He went from pure curiosity, believing in nothing. As the Curé passed out of the sacristy to say his Mass, his eye fell on this man. It was but a glance, but it pierced his soul. He remained motionless during the Mass; but when the Curé passed again an invisible force seemed to drag him to follow the priest. The door was closed, and all the man could say was: “I have a crushing burden on my shoulders!” “I know it,” replied the Curé, “and you must get rid of it at once. Kneel down and tell me all your poor life, and Our Lord will take up your burden, for He has said:

“Come unto Me, all ye who are heavy laden, and I will refresh you.”“ The man did as he was bid, and opened his whole heart to the good Curé, who comforted and cheered him, so that he left the sacristy full of faith and hope and joy; neither did any doubts ever after destroy his peace.

But a volume might be filled with the like conversions, which were continued up to the very time of his death; for at last, the hour came when this faithful servant was called to his reward. The intense heat of the month of July, 1859, had tried him very much, and the church was positively suffocating from the great crowd which continually filled it. Several times he fainted away; yet the moment he recovered he went back to his confessional. On Wednesday, the 29th of July, he went through his usual routine of labour, catechising, passing seventeen hours in the confessional and ending with night prayers. When he returned home he sankon a chair, saying, “I can do no more.” He went to bed; but at one o‘clock in the morning, when he tried to rise to go as usual to the church, he fainted away. Someone came in and exclaimed: “You are ill, M. le Curé; shall I call someone?” “No, it is not worth while. I think it is my poor end.” He had foreseen and foretold his approaching death, and did not speak of saying Mass, which was a bad sign. He would not, however, submit to the use of a fan, which he considered a luxury. “Leave me with my poor flies,” he feebly said. “You are suffering very much,” said one of the watchers. “We are going to invoke St. Philomena with all our might that she may cure you as she did before.” “Oh, St. Philonnena will not do so now,” was his only reply.

The consternation was deep and general when M. Vianney’s absence from the confessional was perceived. The missionaries and the brothers of the Holy Family watched continually round his bed, while night and day his pillow was tended by his old and beloved friend, the Comte des Garets. Another of his parishioners took up his station on the roof of the presbytery, and, under the burning sun of August, during the whole time of his illness, continued watering the roofs and walls, to keep up a refreshing coolness around him. On Tuesday evening, M. Vianney asked for the Last Sacraments; silent tears flowed from his eyes when the bell announced the last visit of his Lord. A few hours later he wept once more, but they were tears of joy. They fell upon the cross of his Bishop, Mgr. de Langalerie, who came, in breathless agitation, praying aloud as he forced his way through the kneeling crowd who intercepted his passage. He was but just in time. At two o‘clock in the morning, without struggle or agony, Jean Baptiste Marie Vianney fell asleep in the Lord, while the priest was pronouncing the words: “Let the holy angels of God come forth to meet him, and conduct him to the city of the heavenly Jerusalem.”

The Curé d”Ars gave up his holy soul to God in the arms of the faithful companions of his labours, the Abbés Toccanier and Monnin. The life of extraordinary self-sacrifice, devotion, prayer, charity, patience, humility, mortification, was over. He had fought the good fight: he had finished his course: he had received his crown.

The emaciated body, seamed and scarred with the glorious stigmata of penance, lay on his poor pallet, arrayed by the hands of his beloved missionaries in the cotta and cassock which in life he had never laid aside. One of the lower rooms of the presbytery was hung with white drapery and flowers, and thither for two long days and nights came pilgrims from every part of France to weep and pray around him, who, for the first time, had no answering tears to give, but whose prayers, now ten-fold mightier than before, were rising for them before the throne of God. Notwithstanding the intense heat, not a trace of decomposition appeared upon the body up to the time of the funeral. The venerable face lay uncovered, sweet and calm, as if in a quiet sleep.

On Saturday the funeral procession was formed. From early dawn dense masses of people had been collecting in and near the village till six or seven thousand were gathered together. More than three hundred priests and representatives of all religious orders came to pay their last tribute of reverence to the departed saint.

The procession halted in the square before the church, and there the Bishop of Belley, in words which have echoed through many lands, told what had been the life and death of this good and faithful servant of God. “The apostolate of the saints,” writes M. Monnin, “ends not with their earthly life. Their relics have a mission, too. We hope that from his venerated tomb M. Vianney will carry on his work. Several instances of extraordinary graces and of bodily cures, wrought by his intercession, have already occurred. We may not forestall the judgment of Holy Church; but when it shall please Him to call this new star to shine in the firmament of His Church, it shall answer, “I am here.” It will be the hour of His Divine power, and many miracles will reveal it.”

Many hearts have thrilled at the words of consolation which he spoke. Pray for us, then, O holy Confessor of Christ, by the slow martyrdom of your lifelong toils for souls! Pray for our priests, that their labours may be multiplied and their numbers and strength be made equal to their labours. Pray for our unbaptized and neglected children, O father of the orphan and outcast! Pray for those, who, from no fault of theirs, have been brought up in heresy and schism, that their eyes may be opened and that they may see the light and the beauty of God’s Church.

The Beatification of the Venerable Jean Baptiste Marie Vianney was decreed by Pope Pius X. in St. Peter’s on January 8, 1905, and his Canonisation was celebrated twenty years later, on May 31st, 1925, by Pope Pius XI.

Nihil obstat:

J. Donovan,

Censor Deputatus.

Imprimatur:

@ D. Mannix,

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis.

********

Saint John Bosco

EDWARD FITZGERALD SDB

INDEX

A POINT OF VIEW

The acrobat doubled up with laughter. A challenge was one thing, but a challenge from an upstart teenager obviously still green behind the ears was too much. And all because a crowd of kids preferred to watch his show rather than go to church! He looked at John, sized him up again and promptly accepted.

There were to be four contests and they fixed the stakes for the first. To his amazement John beat him at running and, after doubling the bets, won again at jumping. He was absolutely furious when John managed to beat him at juggling, so in an all-ornothing bid he set about climbing the elm-tree.

Up and up he went until he began to feel the tree bend under his weight. Finally he reached the top and it was obvious to everyone that it was impossible to climb any higher. He got a tremendous round of applause.

Happy again, he watched condescendingly as John shinned up the tree. Up and up he went until the tree bent under his weight too. Then the boy did an extraordinary thing: he stopped climbing just short of the top and proceeded to do a daring hand-stand so that his feet extended well above the top of the tree. He had won again!

It was a costly afternoon for the acrobat; he had lost both his money and his pride. However, everything turned out all right when John invited him to have a meal with some of his friends, all members of his ‘Cheerful Club.’ After paying for the meal out of the prize-money, John then gave him back what he had lost.

This incident is typical of the life and work of St John Bosco, affectionately known as Don Bosco after his ordination. It contains many of the elements which were to characterize his life-style: his love of God, his concern for the spiritual welfare of young people, his skill and quick thinking, his courage in facing opposition, his generosity to rivals or enemies, his good humour, his oneness with and openness to his boys, his use of sport and games to bring youngsters to God, and his practical commonsense approach to problems and situations as they arose.

Numerous other incidents in his life would have illustrated these just as well, and no special importance need be attached to the one we have just related. But it is always well worth taking such a typical incident and attempting to get behind it to ask the question: ‘Why?’

This is particularly necessary when dealing with a life such as Don Bosco’s, which is full of incident and a wide variety of activities. Otherwise one can become very confused indeed. A person’s life-long undertakings are likely to appear meaningless to us unless we keep in mind the guiding principles of his life. We need a unifying principle which will link these things together and give us a kind of bird’s-eye view of his life.

Naturally, this is not at all an easy thing to determine, and almost certainly there will be a number of such guiding principles at work. But this should not stop us from making the attempt.

What, then, was the unifying factor in Don Bosco’s life and work? Certainly one needs to single out his deep love of God and of our Lady. These motivated all his actions. But, in particular terms, we could perhaps underline the following: Don Bosco was above all a man of action, who so cared for the material and spiritual welfare of poor boys that he was ready and willing to meet the problems and needs of the moment with whatever good means he had at his immediate disposal. He used to say later on in life, ‘The better is the enemy of the good,’ and would undoubtedly have supported Chesterton’s remark that if a thing is worth doing, it is worth doing badly.

He was never one to remain inactive until a perfect solution to a problem presented itself. ‘If I can’t get over an obstacle,’ he pointed out, ‘I simply try to go around it.’

Don Bosco was a very practical, down-to-earth saint. He did not hesitate to adopt a short-term solution to a problem rather than sit back and do nothing at all and so allow the situation to deteriorate. This was an outlook which was to shape and colour his whole ministry. Predictably, it was also one which annoyed his critics.

EARLY LIFE AND DIFFICULTIES

John Bosco was born on 16 August 1815 in Becchi, in the parish of Castlenuovo in Northern Italy. His father, Francis Bosco, was a poor farmer, who died when John was only two years old.

His mother, Margaret, still only twenty-nine, was then left with the burden of caring for her two sons, John and his older brother Joseph, and also for her aged mother-in-law and Anthony, her husband’s son by his first marriage. It was from his mother, who was herself quite unable to read, that John learned many of the things which were to stay with him for the rest of his life, above all his reverence for the Eucharist, his devotion to Mary, and his spirit of hard work.

Life was difficult for the Bosco family after the death of John’s father. From the age of four John had to work hard, drawing water from the well, feeding the cows, and collecting fruit. But he also knew how to play, and when he went to the nearby fairs with his mother on market days he eagerly watched the jugglers and acrobats, scrutinizing their acts so as to find out their secrets. Then, at home, he would practise hard until eventually he could walk the tight-rope, do somersaults and perform various conjuring tricks and feats of strength. With these, and his ability to read stories from books, John entertained his friends regularly, making sure that they either started or finished with some prayers. Even at this early age he was making use of a technique which he was to perfect later on in life.

When he was nine John had a dream which was so decisive and prophetical that it conditioned his whole way of doing things in his work with young people. It is worth noting that Don Bosco was always cautious when speaking of his ‘dreams’; he refused to be drawn on the question of whether they were of divine origin or simply the normal outcome of his concern for educating the young. It was Pius IX who later commanded him to write them down, and as a result of this insistence we now have more than a hundred of Don Bosco’s dreams recorded.

Anyway, in his dream John found himself in a large yard with a crowd of boys who were playing together. Some of them were laughing and having a good time, but others were cursing and swearing. John tried to stop them by shouting, but when that failed he, waded into them with his fists.

Then a man appeared, majestic in appearance, who called him and said: ‘You will only make them your friends with gentleness and love, not with blows. Teach them the beauty of virtue and the ugliness of sin.’ When John replied that he had not the necessary knowledge to do this, the man said : ‘My mother will be your teacher.’

John then saw a beautiful lady standing beside him. She took him by the hand. ‘Look,’ she said. When he did so he found that the boys had vanished and in their place was a herd of wild animals. ‘This is your work,’ she went on. ‘Be humble and strong. I will show you now what you must do.’ As she spoke the wild animals disappeared and in their place John saw gentle lambs gambolling about. He began to cry, and asked what it all meant. ‘You will understand it later,’ the lady replied, and with that the dream was over.

John told his mother of his dream and she thought it might be a sign that he was meant to be a priest. At that time many priests were puritanical and Jansenistic in outlook, and kept themselves aloof from the working classes and in particular from dirty street-urchins. Such was the gap between the sacred and the secular that, in their minds, mixing with the common people was seen as a kind of profanation or contamination.

John was very hurt when his greetings were not returned and priests passed him by without a word. Later on he said: ‘I used to cry about this and told my friends that if I ever became a priest I certainly wouldn’t act like that. I’d talk to the boys and try to give them some good advice.’ In fact, this was also his criticism of life in the seminary, where he was to spend six years studying for the priesthood. His teachers were mostly distant and forbidding figures who never mixed with their students. As soon as class was over they disappeared. It was almost impossible to get near them to ask for their advice.

But the kind of spiritual loneliness which John experienced, the lack of care and affection on the part of his superiors, only served to increase his desire to become a priest who would spend his whole life with needy boys, so that, in getting to know them better, he would be in a better position to help them in all their troubles.

Fortunately, there were some priests who were prepared to take an interest in him, and it was well that there were. His stepbrother was resentful and badtempered, and adamantly opposed John’s going to school. But, happily for John, when he was eleven he met a kindly old parish priest, Don Calosso, who decided to help him.

Much to Anthony’s annoyance, it was arranged that John should go to the old priest each morning to study Latin and then work in the fields for the rest of the day. However, the arguments continued at home, and finally John’s mother decided that the only thing to do was to put a stop to the lessons and send John away for a while. At thirteen he found himself away from home, working as a farmer’s boy for a pittance of a wage.

Eventually his uncle made peace of a sort with Anthony, and John was able to go back. But trouble broke out again, and in the end Margaret decided to divide the property. As a result, Anthony set up on his own and John was able to continue his lessons under Don Calosso. However, the good priest soon suffered an apoplectic stroke and died.

So, John had to go to school at Castlenuovo. At first he made the journey to the village twice a day, and often travelled the distance (about thirteen miles) barefooted, so as not to wear out his boots, which he slung over his shoulder. But when winter came he was so worn out himself that his mother arranged for him to board with a tailor, and paid for his keep with eggs and corn. As the tailor was also a musician and sang in the parish choir, John soon learned how to play the violin and the harmonium and the essentials of plain-chant, as well as how to cut cloth, stitch, sew and turn out a decent pair of trousers. All of these skills he put to good use in his later ministry.

In November 1831, when he was sixteen, he commenced his studies at the local grammar school in Chieri. He was much older than the other children and badly dressed, so they did not spare him their taunts. However, he not only survived but overcame these difficulties, and due to his excellent memory and serious application he advanced at the rate of two classes a year until by July 1833 he had finished his course.

During these years in Chieri he stayed with a baker, sleeping and studying by candlelight in a dark cupboard under the stairs. Although the tuition at the school was free, John had to work hard to pay for his board and lodging, his clothes and text-books, as his mother could not afford to pay for everything herself.

The baker owned a restaurant which John swept and scrubbed before going to school in the morning. After school he used to score for the billiard-players long into the night. Only then did he get a chance to do his own studies, often cold and very hungry in the bare space under the stairs. But even here he managed to learn another skill : how to bake cakes and make pastry.

His cheerfulness and good nature made him a firm favourite with his school-friends, and he used his acrobatic and other skills to draw them to God. This, in fact, was the period when the incident with the acrobat took place.

John still wanted with all his heart to become a priest so that he could, as he himself put it to the old priest Don Calosso, ‘teach the truths of religion to other boys, who are not bad, but who will get into trouble if no one takes care of them.’ Now another saintly priest took a hand in his training. This time it was the young Don Cafasso, then only twenty-three. He counselled John to enter the seminary, which he did in October 1835. Six years later, on 5 June 1841, he was ordained in Turin at the age of twenty-six. His troubles had only just begun.

PORTRAIT OF A YOUNG PRIEST

The hardships and open opposition which Don Bosco had to face as a child were to continue to be the pattern of his life as a priest.

After his ordination, he was offered a position as a teacher and posts in two parishes, but on the advice of his friend Don Cafasso he decided to continue his studies at the college in Turin (population then about 136,000), where young priests had a chance of deepening their knowledge of theology and obtaining first-hand pastoral experience of the problems of people in a large city. Under the guidance of Don Cafasso and others they carried out their studies and exercised a fruitful ministry visiting poor people in slums, hospitals, prisons and reformatories. Don Bosco stayed there for three years (1841–1844) free of charge.

On 8 December 1841, the feast of the Immaculate Conception, he intervened to rescue a scruffy, sixteenyear-old bricklayer’s apprentice from an irritable and unsympathetic sacristan. The boy was an orphan who could neither read nor write and knew nothing about his faith, not even how to bless himself. In this he was typical of the many poor and homeless boys who came to Turin in search of work and roamed around the city neglected and unwanted.

With patience and gentleness, Don Bosco began to talk with him about God, and when he had finished, invited the boy to come again and bring some of his friends with him. The following Sunday he came back with six of his mates, and Don Cafasso had picked up three more. A couple of months later there were eighty.

The problem, of course, was in finding a place for them to meet. Fortunately, for the three years he was at the college, Don Bosco was allowed to use the courtyard, in spite of the noise and the liveliness of the meetings. But when he finished his pastoral studies he had to search for a place to go. He became chaplain to an orphanage for young girls which had been founded by a charitable noblewoman, and was allowed to hold his meetings in the courtyard there. However, after eight months the good woman could no longer endure the noise and, although Don Bosco still remained chaplain, he again had to find a meeting place where he could organize games and catechism classes and hear confessions.

For the next year and a half he and his boys wandered up and down the city, unable to stay in one spot for very long. It makes a marvellous picture : there he was, a small, squarely-built priest of thirty, only five-foot four in height, with an untidy mop of dark brown hair on his head and an unruly mob of 400 young hooligans at his heels. Small wonder that no sooner had they settled down in one spot than they were firmly asked to move on to another! Not even the deserted cemetery next to the church of St Peter in Chains was to be a refuge for very long.

Complaints poured in and he was eventually summoned to the town hall, where the mayor tried to persuade him to disband his group. When he refused, the mayor attempted to put pressure on the archbishop, but he got no satisfaction there either. He retaliated by putting Don Bosco under police surveillance, but the policemen who were detailed for the job were soon admitting that if they had much more of it they would probably be going to confession themselves!

For the most part the clergy, too, viewed his work with suspicion. Some of them even thought he was mad and arranged for two canons to have him taken by carriage to the nearby asylum for examination. But Don Bosco was no fool. He neatly turned the tables on them by politely allowing them to get into the carriage first, then slamming the door and telling the driver to head for the asylum as fast as ever he could!

Saints, like prophets, have a way of going unrecognized in their own time and country. Everyday holiness frequently goes undetected; sometimes it is mistaken for madness. But in spite of all the heartbreak and disappointment, Don Bosco and his boys continued their nomadic existence, the little priest hiding his grief and joining in their sports and games. They, in their turn, were happy to attend his services and religious devotions, often in the open air. There was no compulsion about it; they knew him and loved him as a priest who radiated the love of God, and they spontaneously accepted his invitation to praise God as something which was right for them to do together.

But God was not to be outdone in generosity. He finally rewarded them with a home of their own-a wooden shed with a leaky roof which was so near the ground that they had to dig out a couple of feet and make a new floor. But on Easter Sunday (ia April), 1846, Don Bosco blessed the shed which had now become their chapel. His work grew up and developed around that site and spread out from it to the furthest parts of the globe.

THE WORK EXPANDS

No sooner had he found a secure base than he redoubled his efforts. He organized evening classes so that those who were working all day could have an opportunity to learn. He solved his staff problem by recruiting some of his more promising boys as pupilteachers under his guidance and also by persuading a few friends in the city to lend a hand. He continued with his catechism classes and, when he found that there was no suitable Bible history-book, promptly wrote one himself.

At that time workers were cruelly exploited, disgracefully treated, shamefully underpaid, and often arbitrarily sacked. With no civil law to protect them they were completely defenceless. Don Bosco knew all this and did his best to put a stop to it. He walked around from factory to factory, either begging work for those who had none or trying to improve conditions for those who had. He drew up labour contracts for the young apprentices, an idea which was later adopted universally. He even managed to secure a fortnight’s holiday a year for the boys, which was astonishing when one considers the times in which he lived.

Cardinal Cardijn, the founder of the Young Christian Workers movement, once remarked: ‘Don Bosco was the first person in the Catholic Church to dedicate himself entirely to working-class youth.’ In fact, Pius XII and John XXIII both proclaimed him patron of the young apprentices of various countries.

The strain of all this unceasing activity was, understandably, too much and one Sunday in July he fainted. He was found to have pneumonia and was soon in a critical condition. His boys received the news with shock and consternation. They had an intense affection for him and day and night prayed fervently for him. He did recover, but had to go back home to Becchi for three months to convalesce. Meanwhile some of his faithful friends kept his work going and quickly found out how difficult it was.

However, Don Bosco was anxious to be back with his boys. He had managed to rent four rooms in a house not far from his converted shed, but there were at least two brothels nearby, so he had to have someone to guarantee his good name. He asked his mother to give up her old home in the country, with its peace and quiet, and help him look after his 600 undisciplined, noisy youngsters in the city. That she accepted at all was a measure of her love for God and her belief in the work her son was doing.

The two of them set out on 3 November 1846 with their bundles of linen and kitchen utensils, and walked the entire six-hour journey to the city. Margaret was then sixty-six, and Don Bosco himself, still weak from his illness, was suffering from varicose veins which were to cause him much pain for the rest of his busy life. For the remaining ten years of her life, Margaret became a mother to his boys and an invaluable help to him in his work.

Typical of this period was the way in which Don Bosco trusted entirely in divine providence and the intercession of our Lady to meet his growing needs. The time came, for instance, when he had to buy the famous shed and the plot of land. After some bargaining he agreed on a price. It came to almost £1,200 and he did not have a penny in his pocket. He calmed his anxious mother with the simple statement : ‘God will provide.’ Sure enough, he had the money within a week.

It was this confidence in God and in Mary, Help of Christians, which kept him going despite setbacks and disappointments, which occasioned many astounding events and cures too numerous to detail, and which led to his undertaking new and dynamic initiatives at a time when his friends counselled caution and consolidation.

By 1851 the improvised chapel in the shed was much too small. He needed a new one, so he laid the first stone and then set about collecting the money. He begged from everybody (including the royal family!) and organized the first of his great lotteries (rather like our sweepstake draws). Within a year the church of St Francis of Sales was built and completely paid for-a major achievement even today. But, not content with that, he built a school nearby with room for sixty-five boys. Whenever it was needed, Don Bosco put up another building.

His two greatest achievements in this field were undoubtedly the building of the Basilica of Mary, Help of Christians, in Turin and the construction of the Basilica of the Sacred Heart in Rome. When Leo XIII asked him to build the church in Rome, Don Bosco was already old and worn-out-his eyesight was bad, his legs gave him so much pain that he had to use small steps to get in and out of bed, and he suffered from chronic eczema. But in spite of his exhaustion he heroically completed the task, making long fund-raising journeys to France and Spain in order to finance the building.

SALESIANS OF DON BOSCO

Don Bosco, however, was not content to build in bricks and mortar. Even as a young priest he wanted his work to live on in dedicated followers. So he began to train some of the boys who seemed to respond best to his ideals. Sadly, they all left him. But failure and disappointment were not new to him, so he made five more attempts before he eventually succeeded. On 26 January 1854 he held a meeting in his room. That evening his little group of four followers decided to bind themselves with a promise, which could later be changed to a vow. They called themselves ‘Salesians,’ after St Francis of Sales, whose characteristic virtues of charity, gentleness and patience Don Bosco wanted them to imitate.

In 1859 he disclosed his intention to found a religious congregation-with a mere seventeen followers! The first elections were held on 18 December 1859, and the Salesian Society came into being, though it took ten years of patient negotiations before it was eventually approved by the Holy See.

Encouragement and opposition had both come from unexpected quarters. The Minister of Justice, Rattazzi, an anti-clerical, who was directly responsible for the existing oppressive laws against religious orders, recommended that he form a society of helpers and showed him how to get round the laws as they stood. On the other hand, the two archbishops of Turin during this period were opposed to his projects, and it was largely due to his confident trust in Mary, Help of Christians, and to the fatherly advice and kindness of his great friend Pius IX that he finally managed to win through. In 1863 there were just 39 Salesians; by 1874, when the Rule was definitively approved, there were 320; when Don Bosco died in 1888 there were 768; today they number 20,000.

As the Salesian work for poor boys grew and flourished, Don Bosco saw the need for a similar work for young girls, and so with the help of the saintly Mary Mazzarello he founded the Salesian Sisters. On 5 August 1872 the first fifteen Sisters made their vows, and Don Bosco gave them their official title: Daughters of Mary, Help of Christians. From that small beginning they too have spread throughout the world and now number 19,000.

In 1876 a third family, the Salesian Co-operators, was added to the first two. This predominantly lay association was intended by Don Bosco to shake Christians out of their lethargy into an active apostolate on behalf of the Church. He meant them to be ready to take on every good work of charity, especially those which concerned poor and neglected youth. He constantly taught that sanctity was not the prerogative of any particular class or minority but that every Christian was called to holiness. Pius XII was so enthusiastic about the work of the Salesian Co-operators that he called Don Bosco one of the founders of the modern lay apostolate.

Although he himself never went as a missionary to far-off countries, Don Bosco was able to fulfil his lifelong desire to send his sons to spread the gospel in the remotest parts of the world. During his lifetime he organized a total of eight missionary expeditions. His successors followed up the programme which he had started, so that seventy-five years after the first expedition it was calculated that more than 6,000 priests and brothers had actually undertaken the missionary task. The Salesians were the first to make contact with many savage tribes, particularly in Patagonia, and a number laid down their lives as martyrs for the faith. Today the Salesians are active in seventy-two different countries.

A GREAT EDUCATOR

It has now become clear that Don Bosco was one of the very great educators of modern times. He used to say, jokingly, in his own dialect: ‘You can’t teach a boy through the seat of his trousers,’ and this became a hallmark of his own loving approach to education in what he called his ‘Preventive System.’

He was convinced that the business of a child’s education began with the need to win his affection and trust. ‘Give your boys confidence. To this end you must make yourself loved . . . ,’ he advised his Salesians. To be feared or respected was not enough. Love was the key. But in addition to love, there were two other indispensable elements : reason and religion. He believed that a child’s immaturity was no obstacle to his recognizing the reasonableness of the demands made upon him, provided that the reasoning was adapted to his youthful understanding. He found that authority supported by reason and not by imposition was welcomed by the young and then became a positive factor in their education.

He wanted discipline to come from within, not from without, so that, once the pupil was persuaded to want to be good, his education could be said to be secure. But to obtain this he was convinced that religion was necessary: ‘Without a great deal of prayer, no rules would be of any use.’ He maintained that the celebration of the Eucharist, frequent Communion and the regular reception of the sacrament of penance were vital to any system of education which would dispense with all repressive measures.

We have already mentioned how Don Bosco wrote a Bible history-book to meet a particular need. However, his ability as a writer, editor and publisher did not end there. He foresaw the urgency of providing good literature in language the average reader could understand, and decided to do something about it. Here, as elsewhere, his faith was such that he was able to make a start where others would have waited for means which would never come.

As a writer he can be ranked with the best-sellers of all time, though not every one of his 150 published books and pamphlets became a best-seller. His prayer-book, Companion of Youth, first published in 1847, had reached its 100th printing (six million copies) twenty-five years later. His monthly, 100-page digest, Catholic Readings, which he started in March 1853, soon had over 14,000 subscribers-an extraordinary circulation by the standards of the time. He wrote on everything from arithmetic and history to religion and oenology-the science of wines!

When he found that it was more fruitful to have his own presses he made a start in 1861 with two second-hand machines which worked on the old pressure system, and soon had a first-class printing works. In this way he not only provided good literature, but also the opportunity for his boys to become skilled printers, compositors and bookbinders. In 1883 he confided to Pius IX: ‘Where the press is concerned Don Bosco wants to be always in the vanguard of progress.’ For doing just that Pius XII declared him Patron of Catholic Publishers in 1946.

On one occasion a book of his was conditionally placed on the Index on the grounds of a passing remark in an appendix. This caused him much personal anguish until his great friend, Pius IX, intervened on his behalf.

But the hazards of attempting to provide ‘a press against the press’ were much more immediate and ominous than that. For some time a sectarian minority had been using the press to issue anti-Catholic tracts and seriously to mislead the public on religious issues. Don Bosco’s answer was to beat them at their own game and obtain massive popular support for his witty and intelligent paperbacks. His opponents resented this success and resorted to libellous articles and vitriolic cartoons; when the lies and lampoons in the press proved ineffective, they attempted to silence him in other ways.

His would-be assassins used everything from pistols and poison to clubs and carving-knives in their attempts on his life. He was waylaid several times, and summoned to phoney sick calls, but on each occasion he escaped safely, helped by his good sense, his own strength and his confident trust in divine providence. Even the humour in the situation was not lost. One Sunday morning, for example, when he was teaching catechism, someone took a shot at him through the window. The bullet passed under his arm, making a hole in his cassock. It was a narrow escape, but, after checking the damage, he made the boys laugh by complaining that it had been his best cassock! For a long time, too, he was protected by a mysterious grey dog who seemed to materialize whenever his life was threatened.

LAST YEARS

Don Bosco had lived under six Popes, and at least two of them (Pius IX and Leo XIII) were among his closest friends. At a time when Rome and the State were in constant conflict he had managed, with much patience and skill, to achieve the seemingly impossible balance between fidelity to the Holy See and loyalty to the State. He made himself all things to all men so that, whenever it was necessary, he could be an influence for good. In fact, he acted several times as an unofficial intermediary between the Papacy and the Government. ‘My politics,’ he used to say, ‘are those of the Our Father.’

Don Bosco was a visionary and a tactician, a man of God who implemented his dreams with pastoral inventiveness and bold improvisation. But he was also deeply conscious of the central role of Mary in his life. As an old man he could point to the statue of our Lady on top of the Basilica of Mary, Help of Christians, and, with tears in his eyes, say to the two Salesians who were supporting him at the time: ‘Everything I have ever done, everything we shall all ever do, is through her.’

When it came, Don Bosco’s death was not the result of an assassin’s bullet but the culmination of a life dedicated entirely to building up the kingdom of God, especially among poor and neglected children. Worn out by constant work, his health gradually deteriorated. He celebrated Mass for the last time on 11 December 1887. Paralysis gradually spread over his body and eventually, surrounded by his spiritual sons and mourned by thousands, he died on 31 January 1888, at 4.45 A.M. He was 72. There were over 100,000 people at his funeral. Pius XI canonized him on Easter Sunday, 1934.

Of his life and work one could truly say: ‘Those who instruct others unto justice shall shine as stars for all eternity’ (Dan 12:3).

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Saint John Fisher

BY THE RT. REV. MGR RICHARD L. SMITH

INDEX

DURING his long reign King Henry VIII had no nobler subject than John Fisher, Bishop of Rochester. In that Renaissance age of elaborate compliments, when the turn of a phrase was thought more important than its truth, John Fisher’s speech sounds by comparison direct, almost brusque. It seems natural that he should have come from Yorkshire, from Beverley in the heart of the plain which stretches eastward to the broad waters of the Humber. To this day the old town, clustering round the mass of its lovely Minster, retains much of the appearance it wore in 1469, when a son was born to Robert and Agnes Fisher.

His father soon died, and he was brought up by his mother and her second husband, Thomas White, a merchant. They gave him the best education Beverley could provide and the boy proved himself a brilliant pupil at the local grammar school; so much so, that when he was fourteen he was sent to Cambridge, a lanky lad with a serious face. We have no contemporary description of him at this age, but his later writings show that he was already more than a precocious bookworm. When he was a prisoner in the Tower, after years at the University, in the household of the greatest lady in the land, as Bishop and member of the King’s Council, none of these experiences seem to have made so deep an impression on his mind as the sight of a blackthorn blossoming in May, of parched grass springing green again with the first heavy shower, of a huntsman treading the fallows, running over hedges and creeping through thick bushes while he calls all the day long upon his dogs. To the end of his life, John Fisher was a countryman as well as a scholar.

And, since the child is father of the man, we may endow him, even so early, with another quality, that of straightforwardness, an almost childlike consistency, a sturdy honesty, which the Scriptures call single-eyed. It would have made him harsh, or at least hard, had it not been allied to the tenderest piety towards Our Lord and Our Lady and God’s poor. Of Our Lady he could write : “Therefore let us go into this mild morning, our Blessed Lady Virgin Mary.” And his words are always full of understanding when they treat of the life of the poor: “The labourer when he is at plough tilling his ground, and when he goes to his pastures to see his cattle, or when he is sitting at home by the fireside, or els e when he lies in bed waking and cannot sleep . . . And the poor women also in their business, when they be spinning of their staffs or serving of their poultry.”1

Such was the youth who set out southwards along the Roman road in 1483, making for Cambridge through Lincoln and Peterborough and Ely. His career in the University was all that the most optimistic of his grammar school masters could have hoped. During the fag-end of a futile civil-war, he busied himself with his prayers and his studies in complete calm, taking his degrees with distinction, rising in the Sacrament of Orders to the priesthood, until at the age of thirty-four he was already Vice-Chancellor of the University, after having been elected Master of Michael House and Proctor.

Cambridge owes him an immense debt for those years of service. Nor did the service cease with his appointment to the See of Rochester. Compared with the University life of Oxford at the beginning of the Sixteenth century, Cambridge was neglected and almost a backwater. But John Fisher influenced Royal patronage to establish Christ’s College on the old foundation of God’s House, to implement the revenues of Queen’s College, and of King’s, and to found St. John’s. He used the opportunity of framing their statutes to quicken the pace and change the direction of scholarship in Cambridge. By persuading Erasmus to teach Greek there and by inducing the Lady Margaret to establish a professorship in divinity, he infused new life into the University. And to its credit Cambridge was grateful. The King and his courts might thunder against Bishop Fisher, they might confiscate his goods and confine his person to the Tower. But until they killed him, he remained Chancellor of the University. It was a rare example of courageous loyalty in an age of time-servers.

Henry VII had met this young don while he was acting as chaplain to the King’s mother, Lady Margaret Beaufort. The first Tudor was impressed by what he saw as well as by what his mother told him ; and when the See of Rochester came vacant, he decided to nominate as its bishop, not the man who deserved best of him, but the man who deserved best of I The English of these quotations has been modernized wherever it seemed advisable

God. It was a novel criterion, and raised a storm among the courtiers, who could only see it as an example of petticoat influence. They were wrong. The King confessed that in his days he had “promoted many a man unadvisedly and would now make some recompense to promote some good and virtuous men.” The first of these was John Fisher, consecrated Bishop of Rochester at the age of thirty-five.

It was a small diocese and a poor one, but it occupied a strategic position, which was to have its effect upon the Bishop’s development. The little, walled town, dominated by the massive block of the castle on its hill, lay beside a bridge over the Medway, straight in the path of all who would travel from the coast to London. Kings rode that way, and gorgeous embassies, and foreign merchants and poor scholars. The bishop was constantly called away from his big library, which smelt of seaweed and salt and old vellum, to do the honours to visiting strangers. And so he came to hear talk of high politics and of the surge of ideas, which were working revolution upon the Continent. And some of the ideas revolted him to his soul. It was not that he was incapable of assimilating new ideas; his work for Cambridge gave the lie to that. But these things he learned from the lips of travellers and from the books they brought were treason to the Faith and poison to the souls of simple men. His duty as a bishop, his inclination as an honest man, both urged on him to fight the spreading of such a plague. There, in Rochester, on the highway from the Continent, he stood like Horatius at the bridge-head, defending all Britain behind him. The books he wrote in his library, the sermons he preached in his own diocese, in London at St Paul’s Cross and in Cambridge, carried his challenge to Luther, to Melancthon and Oecolampadius, and made his name famous across the narrow seas. John Fisher became the master theologian of England to all contemporary scholars, though he only set foot once outside the realm and rarely travelled further from home than to Cambridge, where he would watch the building of St John’s. Although the tenor of his day might seem tranquil enough, he was in the thick of a fight which raged from the shores of the Mediterranean to the Baltic, and from the rocks of Brittany to the great plains of Poland. His library was his battlefield and the sound of his name was in everyone’s mouth.

But he waged war on other sins besides heresy. His constant journeys about his diocese were undertaken for the discovery of abuses as well as for the consolation and help of the unfortunate. We should not expect him to be mealymouthed when he lit upon injustice or idleness or avarice. Nor was he. He had nothing but scorn for those who so wrapped up their words that the people failed to catch their meaning. “Bishops,” he wrote, “be absent from their dioceses and parsons from their churches . . . We use by- paths and circumlocutions in rebuking, We go nothing nigh to the matter and so in the mean season the people perish with their sins.” Any clergy with a guilty conscience trembled at his coming. As he said himself: “All fear of God, also the contempt of God cometh and is founded of the clergy.” He never hesitated to apply canonical penalties even to those with friends at Court.

Everywhere he went, he would preach to the people. And then he would visit the sick in their homes, often mere hovels, where the smoke drove his gasping attendants out into the fresh air, while he remained inside, giving all his time and his attention to the affairs of these poorest of his flock. For thirty years he went among his people until his gaunt figure was a familiar sight in the countryside. Men knew that if his eyes were always sad, his expression was seldom stern. It was pity for souls which drove him to engage in the heart of the battle, pity for these very souls who were entrusted to his care and who relied on him to be taught God’s truth. He could not bear to think of Our Lord’s sacrifice on Calvary being wasted, even in one individual case. His long prayers during the silent night were often dedicated to pleading for the victory of truth and virtue. “Good Lord,” he wrote, “without Thy help, the name of Christian men shall be utterly destroyed and fordone . . . merciful Lord, exercise Thy mercy . . . set in Thy church strong and mighty pillars, that may suffer and endure great labours-watching, poverty, thirst, hunger, cold, and heat-which also shall not fear the threatenings of princes, persecution, neither death, but always persuade and think with themselves to suffer, with a good will, slanders, shame, and all kinds of torments, for the glory and laud of Thy Holy Name.” In that passage, little though he might think it, he painted his own portrait.

He had always lived an austere life, eating little and that of the plainest, taking only four hours’ sleep on a hard bed. There was no luxury in the furnishing of his great, damp palace, save perhaps in the number of books it housed. And towards the end of his episcopate, he became a weak old man, racked with rheumatism. But even then he would never give up his preaching and taught the people as he sat in a big, upright chair. But now the time had come to serve God by the royal road of suffering, and with the matter of the King’s marriage his own persecution began.

There can be no need to retell here the familiar story of Henry VIII’s matrimonial tangles with Catherine of Aragon and Anne Boleyn. We are not concerned with the King’s motives, whether passion were the sole cause of his actions or the desire for a legitimate male heir or both. Bishop Fisher comes into the story only when Henry had decided to have his marriage with Catherine declared invalid. Wolsey wrote to Rochester on the King’s behalf asking Saint John’s opinion. He answered in June 1527 that he had weighed “impartially over and over again the reasons on both sides” and the decision he had come to was that Henry and Catherine were truly man and wife. From that position he never moved.

When eventually a Legatine Court was set up in the great hall at Blackfriars, the Bishop of Rochester was named among the Queen’s advisers. Henry had not wanted it to come to an open trial between Catherine and himself; his agents had tried to persuade her to enter a convent, but Saint John had counselled and supported her in her quiet refusal. Some, at least, of his letters to the Queen were seized and read. It was the beginning of the rift between him and his royal master.

Catherine only appeared once before the Court, when she made her dramatic appeal to Henry’s conscience. Twice he tried to raise her from her knees before him; he did not deny the truth of what she said. But she could read no hope of justice in his harassed eyes. So, abruptly she stood up and told her judges she must send messengers to the Emperor, her nephew, and to the Pope. Then she was gone, and the Court broke up in confusion. Next day, the Bishops of Rochester and Bath rose in their places ready to defend the Queen’s rights and to show that she was the King’s lawful wife and their own liege lady.

It was at the fifth session that Saint John made his notable speech. Hitherto the time of the Court had been taken up with witnesses to scraps of palace gossip and tittle-tattle, unsavoury and inconclusive anecdotes. The bishop declared that he had given two year’s diligent study to this question, and he immediately raised the tone of the whole trial to the level of principle, arguing that the marriage between Henry and Catherine could be dissolved by no power upon earth. His words were meant as a challenge to every temporizing cleric who sat there uncomfortably listening to him. He was calling on them to act the part of men and Christians, to rally to the defence of a Sacrament. For that cause, he said emphatically, he was prepared to lay down his life, as had done John the Baptist of olden times. Men gasped to hear Henry so openly compared to Herod Agrippa, and in his written reply the King did not ignore the comparison. Naturally enough he was furious, for it struck to the bone. The trial dragged on into July. Then the Court was prorogued and never met again, since the Pope recalled the case to Rome. But Saint John had made an implacable enemy of Anne Boleyn and henceforth he was a marked man. If he likened Henry to Herod, he must think of her as Herodias. He was trying to deny her the crown of England, and that she would never forgive.

In October of the same year, 1529, the Reformation Parliament met. It was packed, like most, if not all, of the Tudor Parliaments, and immediately the Court partly showed its hand. If the Pope chose to recall the King’s suit to Rome, he should be made to realize the consequences and the Commons were hounded on to bait the clergy. It is important to realize that this Parliament which established the Church of England, “did not begin with any heroic assertion of spiritual freedom or the rights of conscience.”‘ Instead, it fastened on excessive fees and fines and exactions on the part of the clergy, abuses to which Saint John had shown himself very much alive in his pastoral visitations. and which he would not tolerate whenever he discovered them. So, he was in a strong position when he stood up in the Lords to defend the Church.

Never in his life was he a nobler figure than during these debates. His battle for Queen Catherine had been a popular battle; the common people were on her side. They cheered the Spanish Queen in the streets and met the procession of Henry and Anne with surly silence. But the fight which Saint John was now to captain made no such clear-cut appeal, because there were real abuses, as everyone knew, abuses from which poor folk had suffered much more than the rich. Yet the Bishop of Rochester put his finger on the true issue in his very first speech: “These men now among us seem to reprove the life and doings of the clergy . . . But if the truth were known, ye shall find that they rather hunger and thirst after the riches and possessions of the clergy, than after amendment of their faults and abuses.” How right he proved! It was not the poor of England but the King’s favourites who benefited by the dissolution of the monasteries and the alienation of Church property. Even so, it was not in the character of Saint John to fight for wealth and position. Long before, in a Synod of Bishops summoned by Cardinal Wolsey, he had asked: “Who can willingly suffer and bear with us in whom (preaching humility, sobriety, and contempt of the world) they may evidently perceive haughtiness in mind, pride in gesture, sumptuousness in apparel, and damnable excess in all worldly delicacies?” His battle in Parliament was not to perpetuate such a state of things, but because he saw “this violent heap of mischief, offered by the Commons,” as an attack on the outworks of the Church’s freedom. And he told the Lords that unless they resisted manfully they would be instrumental in bringing the Church “into servile thraldom like a bondmaid, or rather by little and little to be clean banished and driven out of our confines and dwelling-places.” In this, subsequent history again justified his foresight.

He was summoned before Henry to explain his words, but he kept up the struggle in Parliament and won the Lords over to rejecting the bills which had come up to them from the Commons. A joint meeting of the two Houses gave way to the King, and promptly Saint John appealed over their heads to the Pope. For this he was arrested in October 1530 with his brother Bishops of Bath and Ely. But the Pope’s writ still ran in England and they were shortly afterwards released.

Henry’s next move was to threaten the clergy with prosecution for accepting Wolsey’s legatine authority, against the statute of Praemunire. It made no difference that the King himself had encouraged and accepted this authority, that it had been conferred with the greatest pomp in his own palace at Greenwich. The clergy were in a panic and the Province at Canterbury offered to buy its pardon with the grant of £100,000 to the royal exchequer. Henry rubbed his hands with glee, and while fear kept them malleable he determined to strike still harder and demanded the insertion of a clause naming himself the only supreme head (on earth) of the Church and Clergy in England. Frightened though they were, this new phrase gave them pause. Immediately the Court party swarmed about them, insisting that no offer of money would avail without the concession of this title to the King. Fear was like to win the day when Saint John threw the whole weight of his influence into the other scale. The King might have money, but this new-fangled title- never!

Henry saw he had ridden them too hard. He also saw that but for the Bishop of Rochester he would have succeeded. He called the Bishops to Westminster, protesting that he meant nothing new by the title, promising he would assume no authority which his predecessors had not claimed. Nevertheless, Saint John persisted in his gallant resistance. If the King meant nothing new by this title, it was hard to see why he coveted it so tenaciously. So, the courtiers had to try a new line of attack. If the clergy would not believe the word of their King they could hardly be loyal-minded subjects. Saint John had just witnessed the worth of Henry’s word to poor Catherine of Aragon. Boldly he called their bluff: “What if (the King) should shortly change his mind and exercise in deed the supremacy over the Church of this realm ?”

The debate went on for days, the claims of religion growing feebler with each repetition, the threat of the King’s anger coming nearer with every mention. And at last Saint John sat sombrely silent while Convocation voted to admit the title “and to credit his princely word so faithfully and solemnly promised unto them.” Even now the champion of Christian liberty could not suffer such a defeat in silence. He sprang to his feet, he besought them with all his force not to weaken. It was of no avail. Whatever price had to be paid for safety, that price they would pay and wrench their consciences afterwards to justify it. So, he made one last despairing effort. They were paying a higher price than they need. On the high word of a King they knew this title was to be interpreted “according to the law of God.” Then let them add the phrase. So at least they should not betray their trust nor deny their jurisdiction and the Apostles from whom it came.

Despite the courtiers, who tried to block even this concession, Convocation jumped at the qualification : it was a salve to their bruised consciences, and on February 11, 1531, they hailed Henry as supreme head of the English Church and Clergy so far as the law of Christ allowed. It was a hollow compromise; Saint John was well aware how hollow. But, at least, it had averted open capitulation. And now Henry was his enemy as much as Anne.

In the Parliamentary session of 1532 Henry showed what he understood by Christ’s law, making three demands which completely subordinated the Bishops’ authority in spirituals to his own will. Saint John was ill in his house at Lambeth. Convocation felt the lack of his intrepid leadership, and in their dismay adjourned for three days while a deputation was to interview the Bishop of Rochester and seek his counsel. But without him in his place, the result was a foregone conclusion and in May the Submission of Clergy was passed by convocation.

Next year the farce of repudiating Queen Catherine was the King’s main concern. Saint John fought tooth and nail against the Act prohibiting all appeals to Rome in cases of wills, marriages, and tithes; but it was rushed through Parliament. He was arrested for the second time in April, and kept out of London until everything was safely accomplished, Anne married and crowned Queen. Then they let him go home to Rochester.

He knew it would not be for long and he prepared himself against the supreme crisis of his life. When his household were celebrating the greater feasts at table, he would soon excuse himself, saying that one so near to death had much to do and little time to do it, and begging that they would not allow his absence to mar their enjoyment. He was ill too, most of the winter, with a persistent cough and a fever and aches and swellings in his legs and feet. But when the expected summons came, shortly after Easter, he was sufficiently improved in health to be able to obey it. He heartened his weeping servants, making provision for them and for the poor of Rochester, reserving something for himself “to defend his necessity in prison,” nor forgetting Michael House and St John’s at Cambridge.

Next morning, when he came out of the palace to mount his horse, he found that crowds had flocked in from the countryside to bid him farewell. They knew his constancy of character, which meant that this would be the last time they should see him. He rode bareheaded through the little city, men, women, and children pressing round him to receive his blessing. The babies were lifted up to his saddlebow that he might put his hand upon their heads. He was so familiar with them all, their names, their histories, their tasks in life. It was a heart-rending tribute from his flock to one whom they recognized as a true shepherd of souls. “Woe worth they that are the cause of his trouble.” Such was the cry in Rochester on that early April morning.

The journey was almost too much for his strength. Once he fell from the saddle in a faint, and it was only the anxiety of his companions which made them quick enough to catch him before he hit the ground. Come to Shooters Hill, he dismounted wearily and sat down by the roadside to rest. They brought him food, and stood watching sadly while he ate it, slowly and calmly, in the open air. Would it not be better if he never reached London but died on the way as Wolsey had died at Leicester? But he made an end of his eating, said his quiet grace, lay back awhile, his eyes peacefully shut, and then gave the word to remount. So, at last light they came to his house in Lambeth Marsh.

Monday, April 13th, was a hot day when the bishop was summoned before the Council and told to take the Oath of Succession, This oath not only acknowledged Anne as Queen and her children as heirs to the Crown, disinheriting the Lady Mary, which was in Parliament’s competence and could safely be accepted; it also contained a clause repudiating any authority of the Pope in England and no Catholic Bishop could agree to that. Saint John asked for time to consider the oath, which he now saw for the first time. It was only on Tuesday, April 21st, that the die was cast, when he told the Council that while he could swear to the Succession, he could not in conscience accept the formula as it stood. There was nothing more to be said, and he was sent to the Tower to await the King’s pleasure.

His imprisonment lasted fourteen months, almost to the day. They put him in an upper storey of the Bell Tower, which was airy and spacious as cells go, but no housing for a feeble invalid. His worst trial was to be deprived of Mass and the Sacraments, a barbarous custom in a Christian country, and his long loneliness weighed on his spirits. Cardinal Pole was amazed that he survived; “who that considered his age, the delicacy of health which belonged to him, and the leanness of his body, could have believed that he could last even a month in prison?” By December he was brought so low that he wrote a pitiful letter to Cromwell: “I have neither shirt nor suit, nor yet other clothes, that are necessary for me to wear, but that be ragged and rent shamefully. Notwithstanding I might easily suffer that, if they would keep my body warm. But my diet also, God knoweth how slender it is at many times, and now in mine age my stomach may not away but with a few kinds of meats, which if I lack I decay forthwith, and fall into coughs and diseases of my body, and cannot keep myself in health.” When the Bishop of Coventry saw him in the spring, he reported to Cromwell: “Truly the man is nigh gone . . . for the body cannot bear the cloth on the back.”

In November 1534 Parliament passed the Act of Supremacy which dethroned the Pope and substituted the King as “the only supreme head on earth of the Church of England.” Saint John realized that here was the instrument of his death. Despite his physical weakness, despite his lowness of spirit, he could not contemplate taking such an oath or consenting in any way to the Royal Supremacy in spirituals. Twice at least the Council came to his prison to interview him, but when at length they left, he said with quiet relish that they had gone as they came.

Then, in May 1535, the Pope intervened dramatically by creating him Cardinal of the Holy Roman Church. Paul III had more than one reason for his action ; he could hardly have chosen a worthier man in Christendom to be a member of the Sacred College. And certainly he hoped that this elevation would protect the bishop’s life.

If it had any effect at all on Henry’s resolution, it was only to harden his will and to hasten Saint John’s condemnation. The commission for his trial was issued on June 1st, and during the early part of the month he was subjected to repeated examinations at the hands of the Council. He was so ill at this time that there could be no question of his answering in court. But by June 17th the doctors had patched him up enough to make the journey to Westminster Hall. So, for the first time since his imprisonment, he came out of the Tower, clad in a black cloth gown, and riding on a horse “with a huge number of halberts, bills, and other weapons about him.” But his escort soon saw he was too weak even to ride, and they turned aside to the Thames and brought him the rest of the way by water. It was a corpse, says Reginald Pole, rather than the body of a living man, which they delivered to the Commissioners.

His trial seemed to revive him. Rich, the Solicitor-General, was the main witness for the prosecution, and admitted to having played the part of an agent provocateur. He had come to the prisoner with a pretended secret message from the King, who was supposed to be tormented with doubts about the Supremacy, and who appealed to his old friend and councillor for what he knew would be a sincere, independent opinion. Saint John was justly indignant at this treacherous conduct. When Audley, the Chancellor, told him he was not there “to dispute, but to hear his sentence of death for transgressing maliciously the statutes of the Kingdom, by which the King was head of the English Church,” he threw back his head and made a brave, straightforward answer: “That he had not contradicted those statutes maliciously, but with truth and holy intention, as they were opposed to Scriptures and to our Faith.” There was no equivocation, no beating about the bush in that reply. Indeed, it had never been a habit of his to hide his mind.

As he listened to the dreadful sentence which condemned him to a traitor’s death, he stood erect and the colour rushed into his sunken cheeks. His escort closed around him, to take him back to the Tower. But he still had something to say.

With head high and shining eyes, he told the Court “that his Grace cannot justly claim any such supremacy over the Church of God as he now taketh upon him; neither hath (it) been seen or heard of that any temporal prince before his days hath presumed to that dignity.” This was giving the lie direct to Henry, who had promised the Bishops that he would claim no authority which his predecessors had not exercised. His bearing was so gallant that it was a relief, even to his judges, when the pikesmen closed round him and led him away. And his new-found strength was such that they did not need to return by the river; he walked some of the way and rode the rest. And when they came to the Tower moat, a crowd of grieving men and women were following behind, making a triumphal procession of his return. They begged his blessing as if they had been his own people of Rochester, and smilingly he gave it. This was his Palm Sunday and now there remained only his Calvary.

But the last four days of his life were sunshine. All his depression of soul had left him, so that his jailors marvelled at the joy and sense of freedom which possessed him. At five o’clock of the morning of June 22nd, the Lieutenant of the Tower came to his bedside and found him fast asleep. Waking the prisoner gently, Walsingham broke the news of his execution with great courtesy and sympathy. Saint John thanked him, and asked when it was to be. When he learned that the hour fixed was nine o’clock, he made answer : “Well, then, let me by your patience sleep an hour or two, for I have slept very little this night . . . not for any fear of death, I thank God, but by reason of my great infirmity and weakness.” And he turned over and went to sleep again.

When he came out of the Tower, a summer morning’s mist hung over the river, wreathing the buildings in a golden haze. Two of the Lieutenant’s men carried him in a chair to the Gate, and there they set him down, while waiting for the Sheriffs. Saint John stood up and leaning his shoulder against a wall for support, opened the little New Testament he carried in his hand. “O Lord,” he said, so that all could hear him, “this is the last time I shall ever open this book.

Let some comforting place now chance to me”-and looking down at the page, he read: “Now this is eternal life: that they may know. Thee, the one true God, and Jesus Christ whom Thou has sent. I have glorified Thee on earth: I have finished the work which Thou gavest me to do. And now glorify Thou me, Father, with Thyself. . . .” Whereupon he shut the book, saying: “Here is even learning enough for me to my life’s end.”

His lips were moving prayer, as they carried him to Tower Hill. And when they reached the scaffold, these rough men of his escort offered to help him up the ladder. But he smiled at them: “Nay, masters, now let me alone, ye shall see me go up to my death well enough myself, without help.” And forthwith he began to climb, almost nimbly. At the top he met the masked headsman, who knelt- as the custom was-to ask his pardon. And again the Saint’s manliness dictated every word of his answer: “I forgive thee with all my heart, and I trust on Our Lord thou shalt see me die even lustily. Then they stripped him of his gown and furred tippet, and he stood in his doublet and hose before the crowd which had gathered to see his death, Rastall, who was there, describes the gasp of pity which went up at the sight of his “long, lean, slender body, nothing in manner but skin and bones . . . the flesh clean wasted away, and a very image of death, and as one might say, death in a man’s shape and using a man’s voice.” For he spoke to the crowd, from the front of the scaffold, saying : “Christian people, I am come hither to die for the faith of Christ’s Catholic Church, and I thank God hitherto my courage hath served me well thereto, so that yet hitherto I have not feared death; wherefore I desire you help me and assist me with your prayers, that at the very point and instant of my death’s stroke, and in the very moment of my death, I then faint not in any point of the Catholic Faith for fear; and I pray God save the King and the realm, and hold His holy hand over it, and send the King a good counsel.”

The power and resonance of his voice, the courage of his spirit triumphing over the obvious weakness of his body, amazed them all, and a murmur of admiration was still rustling the crowd when they saw him go down on his knees and begin to pray. They stood in awed silence while he said the Te Deum in praise of God, and the psalm In Thee O Lord have I put my trust, the humble request for strength beyond his own. Then he signed to the executioner to bind his eyes. For a moment more he prayed, hands and heart raised to heaven. Then he lay down and put his wasted neck upon the low block. The executioner, who had been standing back, took one quick step forward, raised his axe and with a single blow cut off his head.

Four centuries later, on May 19, 1935, the Church ratified the common judgment of Christendom, and raised him to her altars as Saint John of Rochester. There was never a truer priest than this Yorkshireman, taken from among men and ordained for men in the things that appertain to God, that he might offer up gifts and sacrifices for sins. His devotion to the service of all who were committed to his care, his straightness of vision and of speech, his love of his country and his unswerving loyalty to God, all built up a character whose fineness appealed to the men of his day and has maintained its appeal down the centuries. A scholar without a vestige of intellectual pride, a bishop who knew how to rule, yet without arrogance, a councillor of kings who always gave disinterested advice, he was these things and much besides because he loved God with all the powers of his soul, and loved his neighbour for God’s sake. Since his motives were unselfish, his sight was keen, and in the glory of that vision he walked unhesitatingly the narrow path of truth. “Blessed are the clean of heart for they shall see God.”

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Saint John Francis Regis

M. J. MAHER, S.J

INDEX

AMONG THE BOYS

Jacques Guigon lay dying. Pale and wasted from the fever that had tortured him so long, he stared with unseeing eyes past his mother who knelt beside him clutching his arm. His father, a city councillor of Le Puy, stood with head bowed. The Last Sacraments had been given, and in silence all those present awaited the end.

Unnoticed, a tall figure in black appeared in the doorway. The newcomer spoke: “Have courage, my boy! You will not die.” The watchers swung round in astonishment, and even as they did so, the dying boy moved, struggled to sit up in bed, and then gasped: “Pêre Regis! How glad I am so see you!” For a moment, those present did not realize what had happened. Then the mother turned, felt the boy’s forehead, now cool. Her son was cured. She threw her arms around him as tears of happiness and gratitude filled her eyes. Father and mother then tried to speak to their young benefactor-Pêre Regis, Jacques’ teacher at the Jesuit College in Le Puy-but so great was their emotion that no words would come. “Do not thank me, thank God.” Thus Pêre Regis cut short their thanks, and after ordering them to tell no-one of his connection with the cure, left the house. But he had been observed entering the home, and this, together with the surprise occasioned by the boy’s presence at Mass next morning, soon made the news of the cure public property.

The young Jesuit, not yet ordained, was the son of a nobleman who possessed land in a small village at the foot of the Pyrenees. He had come to the city in 1625, two years ago, and since then had been teaching in the college, preaching sometimes and visiting the sick. The boys in his class realized, as did those Jesuit scholastics who were Francis’ contemporaries, that this young man with the happy and lovable disposition, was a man of unusual holiness. Some of the people of Le Puy and its neighbourhood had already come in contact with him. From time to time, on Sundays and feasts, he went to the villages to preach and give instructions. The effect on his hearers was such, that at one village all the people said no sermon had ever made such an impression on their souls as the one they had heard from him that day. At Le Puy, all his spare time was spent with his boys. His genuine interest and sympathy touched their hearts; particularly at that time when the boy of middle class parents was apt to be neglected. Any money that could be saved was put aside for the girls’ dowries. The son of poorer parents had further reason to thank him. Many of them, who would have been forced to leave school because their only suit of clothes was worn out, were saved by Pere Regis’s begging trips to the shopkeepers and richer people on their behalf. From this time on, he began to be noticed as he made his way about the city. His tall figure, his penetrating eyes, the half-smile that was always on his lips and the aspect of quiet determination made him easily recognizable.

WILD OATS

We appreciate more the work of Francis Regis with his boys when we remember the conditions of the times. After fifty years of the Religious Wars, morality was at a low ebb in many parts of France. Parental neglect was common. Duelling was an accepted fact. Murder was an ordinary event, and often the murderers went free. The police were powerless to check the licence that abounded. And conditions were worse at Le Puy than at most places! Some of the laws passed through the intervention of the Jesuits give an idea of these conditions. Students who boarded with private families or in lodging houses in the town, were not to carry arms or go out after nine at night. Cabaret owners were forbidden to exploit the boys. Women of evil life were prohibited from coming within ten blocks of the colleges. But since there were no means of enforcing them, laws meant little. Consequently quarrels, riots, drunkenness and duelling were common among the students. It is terrible to read of boys of fifteen guilty of the murder of their companions. The apathy of the town-people towards all this was incredible. They took it for granted-the more “sowing of wild oats” and something to be expected.

Francis continued to exercise his influence among the boys until the end of the school year of 1627, when he was sent to Toulouse for theology and ordination. A few months later he met with a keen disappointment. One of the teachers at the Jesuit College in Auch, Gascony, became ill and someone was needed to take his place. The situation was explained to Francis. He had already taught for over five years; more than the normal period-and he looked forward eagerly to ordination. But someone had to go, so Francis went.

HIS CHANCE

It was a changed Toulouse to which he returned in September, 1628. The streets were practically deserted and an unnatural quietness hung over the city. What had happened? The red and white crosses on the doors of many of the houses that he passed gave him the answer. The city was plague-stricken! Here was an opportunity such as Francis had longed for. But to his disappointment, his superiors refused him permission to accompany those Jesuits tending the suffering. He was to continue his studies for ordination; as a priest he could go, but until then he could assist his companions by his prayers alone. Francis did not neglect this means of aiding the city. His life of prayer was intensified, and much of his day and night was spent in sending up petitions to God for the relief of the city. This particular visitation of the plague lasted for over two years and killed more than fifty thousand, including ninety-seven members of the Society of Jesus who had been working among the stricken. By the time of his ordination at Pentecost, 1630, however, it had waned to such an extent that his help was not needed. His chance was to come again.

Shortly after ordination, Father Regis was ordered by the Provincial to go to his native town, Fontcouverte, in Southern Languedoc, to arbitrate in a dispute which had arisen amongst the members of the Regis family. He had not been there for fourteen years, and he was delighted to learn that it had not suffered from the plague. While the dispute was being peacefully settled, he turned to help the townspeople, the neighbouring peasants and some soldiers quartered nearby. His remarkable success with them was a further indication of his power as a missioner.

On his return Francis continued his studies for a short time and then began the tertianship, or spiritual year which is given to Jesuits after ordination. After the tertianship he was sent to take the place of a missioner who had died of the plague. After being at Pamiers for about nine months, he was sent to Montpellier, the second city of Languedoc. That he was sent to the Protestant stronghold was in itself a great tribute to the young priest. The fierce and bitter conflict that had torn France apart since the late sixteenth century has already been mentioned. Churches, monasteries and convents had been destroyed ruthlessly by the Huguenots. Regis had already seen some of this at Pamiers, where, because of the destruction of Catholic buildings and homes, a stable had to be used for Mass and spiritual exercises. War would cease, then break out again. The year in which he arrived at Montpellier, the city had been involved in an uprising that had been sternly quelled by .Richelieu, and an atmosphere of suspicion and hate towards everything Catholic existed. Conversion of large numbers of Huguenots could scarcely be hoped for, but Regis determined at least to persuade Catholics to change the evil lives that many of them were leading.

Though not long at Montpellier, Father Regis became loved by all. His sincere and unadorned talks made their way straight to the hearts of his listeners. They saw that he lived, as well as preached, the Gospel. Thousands came to him to receive absolution and made the radical changes in their lives that he had hoped for. The sick and poor were his special care. To help them, he begged money from the rich, free treatment and medicine from doctors and apothecaries, and old clothes, shoes and mattresses from anyone who could spare them. He got together a group to help those of the sick who had no relations or friends to help them. Even the Huguenots could not resist him. He visited a great many of them in their homes, and his anxiety for their souls, his charity towards them and his own holiness succeeded in converting many.

Montpellier did not receive all his attention. Throughout the diocese he conducted missions with great results. For example, Sommieres, a town twelve miles from Montpellier and almost wholly Calvinistic, became firmly Catholic. To this day the inhabitants venerate St. John Francis Regis as the cause of their town’s conversion.

Of course, he often met with opposition and even went in danger of his life. A typical instance occurred at Saussines, a small village near Sommieres. The villagers had stored their treasures and grain in the church in which Francis was giving the mission. The looting soldiers were angered by this and raided the church. They were met at the door by Francis, who refused to budge. For a few minutes, it seemed that murder would be done, but the calm young priest won the day and the infuriated soldiers withdrew.

A BISHOP CALLS FOR HELP

In 1634, Father Regis was recalled from Montpellier, and with another Jesuit, Father Leyssene, was sent to the Bishop de Suze of Viviers, who had asked the Jesuit provincial for help. Help was badly needed. The previous year, the Bishop had visited eighty towns in the northern part of his diocese and found that priests had been driven out or put to death, churches destroyed, and church property taken over by the heretics. In one parish, where previously there had been ten priests, the people had been without priests or sacraments since the beginning of the wars. Almost threequarters of the people in the diocese were without spiritual guidance. Nor was this all. Far too often those parishes that had priests were in a sorry spiritual condition. Thousands of the best priests of France had been slaughtered by the Huguenots, and so desperate had been the need for others to take their places that often men were accepted for ordination who had neither the character nor the ability to carry out their sacred duties. Their training was restricted to a few months before receiving each Major Order. The result was that many of them not only failed to help those under their care, but sorely needed help themselves.

The plan was that the two missionaries would set out a few days in advance to prepare the people for Confession, Holy Communion and Confirmation. A day or two after the Bishop’s party had arrived the two would move on to the next place. The work was hard and dangerous. Father Regis had a close escape at one Calvinist centre, Villeneuve-enBerg, where thirty priests had been butchered.

He noticed a troop of Huguenot soldiers galloping in his direction. Quickly he dived under one of the hayricks in the grounds of a nearby chateau. But the horsemen had seen him, and in a few seconds were at the hayricks. Dismounting amid shouts of triumph, they plunged their swords and halberds into the ricks from all sides. After some minutes they galloped away, satisfied that their victim could not have escaped. Father Regis then came out, unhurt. (See note.)

The visitation was a great success, and the Bishop admitted that it had been achieved mainly by the zeal and untiring labour of Father Regis.

WORSE THAN INDIANS

For a long time, Father Regis had desired to be sent to the Canadian missions where men like SS. John de Brebeuf and Isaac Jogues and their companions were carrying out feats of incredible heroism. His request was well received, and it seemed only a matter of time before he would set out for Canada. In the interim, he was sent on missionary work in the Boutieres, another region where the Huguenots flourished. This was a good pre-paration for Canada, because the unbelievable cruelty of the Protestant fanatics in this region rivalled any of the Iroquois’ tortures. No one was spared, man or woman, young or old. Some of the victims were bound to stakes and their heads encircled with ropes, which were twisted until the eyes burst from the sockets. Others were buried to their necks in mud and left to rot to death. A particularly diabolical form of torture was to cook the victim’s feet in grease and so induce gangrene or blood poisoning. Young children were roasted on spits. Women and girls were shockingly treated in front of their parents or husbands.*

It was December, 1634, when Father Regis and his companion, Father Broquin, set out for their mission in the mountain regions. Their first destination was Le Cheylard, notorious for its crime and lawlessness. Gun battles in the streets were common; in fact, it was nothing unusual for the local sportsmen to keep their eye in by taking pot-shots at mountaineers! The church had been destroyed and the present generation of Catholics there had received practically no instruction in their religion. The two priests formed classes and persuaded all those who were Catholic, either in name or sympathies, to attend them. Soon the religious life of the community was flourishing.

Once this work had been set afoot, Father Broquin took over the routine parish duties and Father Regis moved on. Using Le Cheylard as a base, he would disappear into the dark forests or the hills, often in the face of a raging snowstorm, and be absent for several days at a time. Everywhere, the hardy mountain people were amazed at the courage and powers of endurance of the missionary. They reasoned that, if he moved among them in such weather, when they never stirred outside, he must have something worth saying. Once he had set out for a steep mountainous

*Footnote.-The authenticity of this story is doubted by some writers on the grounds that it is not related by his earliest biographers, and seems at variance with his spirit. region 3500 feet above the Dome Valley. A violent snowstorm blew up and continued for a fortnight. His friends feared that Father Regis had been frozen to death. A week after it had stopped, he turned up, pale and haggard. His only answer to the protests of Father Broquin was: “In Canada, that would be a routine experience.”

HATRED TURNS TO LOVE

The usual opposition and hatred were met with from certain quarters. At Saussines, he had been pelted with rotten onions. Near Le Cheylard, he received a barrage of stones, and the people considered it a miracle that he was not seriously hurt.

His reputation, which soon spread throughout the district, made many Huguenot villages all the more determined to resist him. At Girond, the obstinate villagers not only refused to allow him to speak, but would give him neither shelter nor guidance. This was the same as a death sentence, since a fog had arisen and made the dangerous mountain roads impassible, except for a native. At last one of the Girondese relented, and took in the freezing priest. In a few hours the missionary had won back to the Faith his host and all the other villagers.

After the conquest of Le Cheylard, the two were sent to the city of Privas. Father Broquin had tried to give a mission there some years before, but the only result was that the locals began to call their dogs “Broquin.” Again the people were bitterly hostile. Father Regis began a campaign of kindness among the sick and the poor. Food was distributed by the two priests. They cared for the sick with their own hands. Next, the children were won over. Small gifts, stories and instructions soon had them gathering about the feet of the missionaries. Parents were enticed by their children, and soon the charm and holiness of Father Regis had them won. Even the abuse of the Calvinist ministers made no difference.

At St. Agreve, scores of priests had been killed and no priest had been there for forty years. The drunkenness and unchecked vice and lawlessness that reigned there were incredible. Into the very taverns and cabarets Francis went, and in no time had changed the dissolute lives of their customers.

Thirty towns were treated in the same way, and he left for Le Puy shortly after Easter, 1636. Though he had not given up all hope of working on the Canadian missions, he became more and more convinced that his work lay here in France among the poor, the sick and the unbelieving, and the words of his rector at Aubenas often came back to him: “Canada for you will be the Vivarais.”

One of Cardinal Richelieu’s attendants wrote in 1633: “In the diocese of Velay and in the domain of the seneschal of Le Puy there are few crimes of treason, but innumerable others, more inhuman, cruel and frequent than in all the rest of Languedoc together.” Richelieu, unfortunately too often interested in the reform of morals from a political rather than from a religious point of view, had sought to change matters by violence, and by the time his attendants were finished, Le Puy was terror-stricken. Once they had gone, things were the same as ever. The methods of Father Regis were different.

Few attended his sermons and instructions when he began in April, 1636, but it was not long before the Jesuit College Church was unable to contain the crowds. He was requested by the Bishop to carry out his work in the much larger church of St. Pierre le-Monastier. People of all types and from all directions streamed in. This larger church became so packed that some had to find seats on the beams and crosspieces of the vaulted ceilings and arches.

As many as five thousand were counted in the church. His listeners heard no brilliant flights of oratory, the simplest peasant, was able to understand everything he said. Nor were any special methods used, though sometimes he had children sing hymns or recite devout poems and sometimes he asked questions of his hearers or allowed them to question him. What impressed all was the obvious fact that here was a man with the spirit of Christ, speaking in the straightforward language of the Gospels.

Yet there was much that the people did not see, though they sensed it, and soon came to know of its existence. For the sake of those people to whom he preached, Father Regis led a life of the greatest austerity. Three or four hours of sleep were enough for him. He was in the confessional before dawn and the people kept him there until about eleven o’clock. Mass and Holy Communion followed. His midday instructions were next, and the idea of anything to eat or drink scarcely even occurred to him. Then Confessions until five or six, when he had his meal, which consisted of some apples, bread and water. The result was a renewal of the spiritual life of the city. One witness described the change as “unbelievable.” There were few of the 35,000 of Le Puy and district who were not affected by Father Regis.

MIRACLE OF THE GRANARY

At Le Puy, as elsewhere, the poor, of whom there were an enormous number, were the special object of Father Regis’s love. He begged money, food and clothing for them. Wherever he went, a crowd of them could be seen following him. To help him in this work, he organized a group of charitable women, and the soup-kitchen, one of their works, was to continue for five centuries.

During the famine of 1637–38, they instinctively turned to him as their protector. He interviewed the dealers who had bought up all the wheat available and were preparing to sell it at their own prices. The result of the interview was that the dealers not only agreed to sell the wheat at reasonable prices, but also gave him donations of money for distribution among his poor.

When the city authorities saw how successful he was they were only too pleased to hand over to him the whole problem of poor relief. With donations, Father Regis bought large quantities of grain which he stored in the granary of the widow of a corn-dealer, Marguerite Baud. Daily the poor were to be seen lined up before her door. From time to time the supply would give out. Once there was neither money nor wheat left. Marguerite went to Father Regis. “Your poor have no more wheat!” He paused for a moment in prayer. “Don’t worry, there’s still some in the bin,” was his reply. The good lady knew she had made no mistake, and proceeded to say so. Regis persisted and in the end she gave up and returned home. There she saw a long queue of starving poor waiting for their share. In desperation,she seized the granary door and cried: “See for yourselves! There is no grain . . .” But as she turned the knob her words were cut short by the flood of wheat, which poured out on the floor. The granary was so tightly packed that it could hold no morel At other times during the famine, the same miracle took place. Nearly two centuries later, the Cure d’Ars astounded his parishioners by doing exactly the same. He placed a relic of St. Francis Regis in the empty granary at his presbytery and prayed to the saint for his poor. In a few hours the granary was filled.

Close on the heels of the famine came the plague. Father Regis moved among the hospitals and the homes of the stricken. One of his fellow priests said that Francis seemed to have lost the power of smell, because he could remain for hours in filthy hovels tending the poor wretches whose diseased bodies stank appallingly. One poor fellow had been left to die on his own because no one could endure the horrible odour that came from his open wounds. Francis found the dying man in a hut that swarmed with vermin. Immediately he cleaned the hut, washed the patient and brought fresh linen and a mattress. After this, he fed and bathed the sick man every day. “Ah, Father,” the patient whispered one day, “You have saved my life. How can I thank you enough?” “It is rather for me to thank you,” was the reply. “I am sorry for having started so late to help you.”

NOTHING WORTH TALKING ABOUT

Many noticed the love and even reverence with which he carried out such work. It was impossible for him to do too much and nothing could tire him. Obviously he served Our Lord in his fellow-men, remembering that He had promised that even a cup of cold water given to another would be treated as given to Himself.

Though Francis laboured so strenuously among the poor and plague-stricken, his missionary work remained very dear to him. Whenever opportunity offered, he would set out across the hills or through the forests to some village that had asked for help. There he would preach, instruct, hear Confessions and bring about a wonderful change in the religious life of the people. All this cost him a great deal, because he was certain that without great prayer and penance on his part he could not expect such results. The curé at St. Bonnet-le-Froid, high up in the hills, was astounded one night to find him kneeling in the snow before the locked door of the church. The temperature was below freezing point and the legs of the missionary were half buried by the falling snow. The curé argued, but he could not convince Francis that his extreme penances were not required to obtain such great graces from God. The best the curé could do was to persuade him at least to enter the church and pray there. Despite such feats of endurance and the continuous fasting he imposed on himself, he seemed to be in good health and never appeared worn or fatigued. His lightheartedness and good spirits were the admiration of the other members of the Jesuit community. “No, I’m not tired at all,” he would assure them, “Why, what’s a little thing like that? It seems to me that I am doing nothing worth talking about.”

Father Regis’ prayer, penances and feats of endurance were perhaps light trials, compared to others which he had to endure. It is not to be wondered at that in the cities of those times were to be found many women leading evil lives. Moral standards were low; war, plague and famine were having their effect, and there were few occupations available to girls who were orphans, poor, or unable to obtain a dowry for marriage or the religious life. Like St. Ignatius, who had established in Rome a refuge for such cases, Father Regis strove to help these women in their misery. His first biographer, La Broue, describes this highly dangerous work at Montpellier: “When he learned that someone had been taken into a certain house of ill-repute, he would go thither himself with the holy effrontery to demand her from the master or mistress of the house. He would not leave the house without taking the unfortunate girl away with him to lead her to a place of safety or to one of those holy retreats provided for them. Much vigour and persuasion were required to surmount the avarice of those who trafficked in such merchandise; but he needed much more patience still to change the hearts of these abandoned women themselves and make them resolve to follow him. Nevertheless, upon occasions, one or two words of his would suffice to effect this, without any other rhetoric than that of the Holy Spirit and of the interior grace which acted in their souls the moment he opened his mouth to speak to them.” A great number of such converts at Montpellier testified to the efficacy of his methods, by their subsequent blameless lives.

This evil was even greater at Le Puy, and though at first Father Regis relied on charitable women each to take in a number of these unfortunates, he soon came to the conclusion that it was necessary to establish a refuge similar to that founded by St. Ignatius. Soon it was taken for granted that any time Father Regis was seen leaving the college in a hurry, it was in answer to a sick call or to rescue some oppressed girl and place her in the refuge.

HIS LIFE IN DANGER

Very soon Father Regis had aroused the hatred of the rakes and scoundrels whom he thus despoiled of their prey. His life was constantly in danger. Time and time again he was attacked with swords, daggers or clubs; he was kicked and beaten, but his life seemed to be miraculously preserved. On one occasion, he and a companion were set upon and beaten until they fell insensible. Another time he was ambushed on the way to a bogus sick call. The ambushers rained kicks and blows upon the priest until he dropped with blood streaming from his many wounds. After lying unconscious for some time, he picked himself up and staggered home. Leaving a house where he had been visiting a sick man, he was met at the door by a ring of swords. He eyed the cavaliers calmly and said: “Well, here I am! What is it you want to do with me?” Each swordsman waited for the others to make a move; finally, unable to bear the calm gaze of their victim, they sheathed their weapons and slunk away. One evening, whilst walking home with a companion, Brother Bensac, he saw one of these cavaliers dragging an unhappy girl along the streets. Regis had heard of her repeated attempts to escape from this ruffian. Leaping from the shadows, he dragged the girl from the grasp of her attacker and told her to run to the refuge. The infuriated cavalier hurled the priest to the ground and savagely began to kick him, until Brother Bensac rushed to the rescue. La Broue seems to have summed up the situation when he says that Father Regis “saved no girl from disgrace without bringing down upon himself the wrath and rage of a hundred cox-combs.”

One of the most remarkable of these attacks occurred when a trio tried to carry into effect a carefully prepared plan. One of them was to ask for Father Regis at the college door, while the other two were to wait in the dark recesses near the door, and stab to death the priest as soon as he appeared. The first man rang the bell and asked the brother on the door for Father Regis. The brother reappeared and told the caller that Father Regis would see him in the church, a short distance away. The conspirators quickly decided that the two in hiding would attack him when the caller lured him to the front door of the church. The latter went into the church. He was astounded to hear the priest say: “I know your plot and the evil purpose which brings you here.” Then in a tone of pleading: “Listen to me. Confess your sins and return to God immediately. He is waiting to pardon you. Here, enter the confessional. It will be easy and I promise you peace of soul.” The man broke down, and Francis led him to the confessional. Then he sent him to fetch the other two. They came and their hearts were touched in the same way.

In a few striking cases the results were not so fortunate. . One such case occurred at Fay, a neighbouring village where Father Regis had either broken up or made regular a number of illicit unions. One couple seemed to be proof against all his prayers and pleadings. A few days after his final attempt one of them became engaged in an argument and was shot and killed instantly. He warned another woman who refused to listen to his persuasions and amend her life: “In the name of God I warn you that, if you continue, you run the risk of being chastised by a sudden death in the midst of your sins!” The woman took no notice. A few days later, as she was speaking to one of her lovers, a jealous rival shot her dead.

Each year the apostolic work over the winter months continued, and his reputation as a saint became more and more widespread. Year by year the demands made on him increased. The crowds for Holy Communion became so great that he was at the rails until four in the afternoon, and on some days even “until after the lighting of the lanterns at five or six o’clock, for the sake of the penitents who remained fasting until night time.”

THE LAST STRUGGLE

Gradually the strain began to tell. On his missions in 1639, he often seemed to be at the point of collapse. The fasting, the confessions night and day, the prayer at every spare moment, and the terrible physical exertion of travelling through the hills in the depth of winter all had their effect on him. The local clergy sought authority from the superior of the Jesuits to command the missionary to take food, rest or recreation whenever necessary. When the permission was obtained, Father Regis obeyed without any protest, though his own inclinations were very different.

It would be a mistake to judge such seeming excesses of zeal by ordinary standards of prudence. It was not difficult to see that God had destined him for great things, and that what he did was in response to the direction of the Holy Spirit. He obeyed immediately and in full the commands of his superiors, even though it meant abandoning work very dear to his heart, which is a sure sign that a man is carrying out God’s will. One of his friends took Regis to task for his recklessness. Regis explained why he considered it unfair to spare himself in the service of God and in support of his case, quoted an incident that occurred on a mission. Whilst travelling to a town, he had fallen into a ravine and broken his leg. With the help of his lay-brother companion he struggled on to his destination, where, in answer to the pleas of his penitents he immediately commenced hearing confessions. When he emerged some hours later, the leg was sound.

It was fitting that one who had laboured all his life as a priest with such untiring zeal to save others, should die whilst carrying out that work. During the winter of 1640, he received warning in some mysterious way, that he had but a short time to live. The few Jesuits at Cheyrac, near Le Puy, who knew that he was engaged on his usual winter missions, were surprised and delighted to see him arrive there. Francis took aside one of the priests that he knew well. “I have reserved the next three days for myself,” he said, “I wish to make a confession of my whole life, very exactly, for I have the assurance that this will be the last. Be good enough to help me in this important matter. I wish to have you for my director.” The astonished priest agreed, and three days later, his brief retreat over, he set out for Montregard. After ministering to huge crowds, he left there on December 23 for La Louvesc, a distance of about fourteen miles. It was late afternoon and a heavy snowstorm was raging. Before long, Francis and his lay-brother companion realized that they had lost their way. The blinding snow and the rapidly closing-in darkness made it impossible to find any of the familiar landmarks. For hours they wandered, until in the middle of the night they stumbled on a ruined shack. They collapsed on the floor and slept. When Francis awoke next morning, he was suffering from fever, but in his haste to push on he disregarded that.

When they reached La Louvesc, he hurried at once to the church. The curé was alarmed at his weakened condition and tried to persuade him to say Mass immediately so that he could take some nourishment. But the people wanted him to preach first and then hear their Confessions, so that they could receive Holy Communion at his Mass. Francis was unable to refuse them. Even after Mass there was no rest. The peasants came in increasing numbers and Confessions were interrupted only by sermons and instructions. Christmas Day came and still the crowds poured in. On the Feast of St. Stephen (December 26) it was two o’clock before he could say Mass. Scarcely had he finished unvesting before the people were again clamouring for him. Late that afternoon, whilst hearing Confessions, he collapsed before the amazed people, who had never dreamt such a thing to be possible. His pitifully light body was borne through the silent, awe-stricken crowd to the house of the parish priest. In a short time he had regained consciousness, and though his voice was faint and his breathing laboured, he insisted on hearing those who had not yet received absolution. For two hours he continued hearing Confession from his couch, until he again lost consciousness. For the next three days, he endured terrible pain. Then, as the last day of 1640 was ending, a change came. He smiled and whispered to the lay-brother beside him: “Ah, my brother, I see Our Lord and Our Lady opening the gates of Paradise for me.” For a few minutes he lingered, then whispering the last words of his dying Master: “Into Thy hands, O Lord, I commend my spirit,” he went to meet Him Whom he had served so well.

HE STILL WORKS

Francis continued his labours among his beloved people even after his death. The vast numbers that thronged to his tomb at La Louvesc, seeking health of body or peace of mind were not disappointed. Within ten years of his death more than forty major miracles were performed at La Louvesc alone. But this was of little moment compared to the conversions that took place there, and the spiritual strength that was obtained. It is possible to mention only some of the more remarkable of these.

In 1806, a young seminarian made a pilgrimage to the tomb of his special patron at La Louvesc. He had done badly in his exams for the priesthood; indeed, he could not even master the small amount of Latin then needed, and it seemed that nothing short of a miracle could enable him to reach the cherished goal of ordination. St. John Francis Regis obtained the miracle for him, and Jean-Baptiste Vianney was duly ordained priest and is now reverenced throughout the Catholic world as the Cure d’Ars.

A few years previously a young French woman had made her way up these heights, to seek guidance through the intercession of the saint to whom she had a special devotion. Until all religious orders had been suppressed by order of the Revolutionists she had been a Visitandine nun, and now she wished to know and follow God’s will. At La Louvesc she received the light she sought. The young woman, Rose Phillipine Duchesne, went to America and there founded many houses of the Religious of the Sacred Heart.

The love and devotion of his people, which at times became almost overwhelming, and even was in danger of hindering his canonization in 1737, spread rapidly throughout the country and then beyond its borders. The superior of the Jesuit missionary, Claude Allouez, who carried out such wonderful work among the Indians of North America, wrote: “This apostle of all the nations of the Ottawas . . . drew his first inspiration from the conversations he had with Father Francis Regis . . . taking part in the answers and recitations at the catechism classes of this very famous apostle.” (August 29, 1690.) In this way did St. John Francis Regis share in the work for which he had so ardently longed during his life.

ST. REGIS AND AUSTRALIA

Though St. Regis resembles our own two great patron saints, St. Francis Xavier and St. Therese of the Child Jesus, in the wonderful influence he has exercised since his death, he is not well known in Australia.

By prayers, triduums or novenas for his feast day (June 16) or at any time of the year, all of us may appeal to him for help, and we can be sure that he will take a great interest in giving the same kind of help that he gave whilst on earth. The sick and diseased, the poor and oppressed, those struggling against temptations to impurity, those in difficulties about the faith and those striving to bring someone back to the practice of their religion will receive special attention from him. Do not forget his devotion to the young. Before his ordination he spent five years teaching boys, and so great was his desire to help them that all his spare time was given to them. No doubt his prayers for them were even more fervent (if that were possible!) at examination time! Many young girls, too, had cause to remember him with gratitude all their lives.

You may speak to him as a friend. There is no need for long drawn-out or high sounding phrases in your prayer. The following could be used:

“St. John Francis Regis, during your life you helped many like me. Now that you are with God in heaven, your power is even greater, and I am confident that you will obtain God’s help for me in this matter. (Say what you want him to obtain for you.) I ask for this remembering that God sees and knows all things, and will act only for my good, and I want His will to be done.”

Then say the Our Father, Hail Mary and Glory be to the Father.

“Pray for us, St. John Francis Regis, that we may be made worthy of the promises of Christ.”

Let us pray: O Almighty God, You gave Your Confessor St. John Francis Regis, such wonderful charity and unconquerable patience that he was able to bear toil, hardship and pain for the salvation of souls. Mercifully grant that we may follow his example, and be constantly helped by his prayers, and so attain to the rewards of eternal happiness. Through Christ Our Lord. Amen.

Nihil Obstat:

D. P. MURPHY, Censor Deputatus.

Imprimatur:

@ D. MANNIX,

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis.

********

Saint John of God

THE CHAMPION OF CHARITY

BENEDICT O’GRADY, O.H

INDEX

INTRODUCTION

One of the greatest oppressions besetting man today is materialism. Man is more than a mere material being, he has a spirit, a soul, and this elevates him to a plane where mere materialism, devoid of the noble ideals of religion, degrades him to nothing more than the level of the animal.

Man looks for something more uplifting than the “good life,” for his spirit must be satisfied in order to make him a fully integrated being. Many have learned to their sorrow that material comforts do not fully satisfy them and often bring about a void in their lives which craves to be filled.

Young people especially often search for heroes with whom they can identify. They are not always wise in the choice of those they emulate or admire. But man needs heroes to admire, it is part of his psychic make-up.

The Church holds up to us, as concrete examples of how sanctity is possible, her own great heroes. We call them, the saints.

A paradox of Christianity is that its heroes are chosen, not for learning, science, bravery or art, as the world chooses its heroes, but for one thing alone—holiness. The saints have had all the above mentioned attributes, but it was precisely because they practised heroic sanctity that they became saints.

St. John of God’s life story merits special attention today when psychoanalysis can be used to discover and discuss the troubled depth of the human spirit. These days, mankind is seeking new heroes, men and women it can identify with. John of God is a man from the past, but his influence is as vital in the world today as it was four centuries ago. He was such a human man, so much like us in many ways, he suffered greatly and his sufferings were both mental and physical. John overcame his anguish and trials by bearing them manfully, not like a stoic, but in unison with the sufferings of Jesus Christ.

The story of John of God is one of the glories of the Church of the Counter-Reformation. A loyal son of the Church, he never questioned the teaching authority of the Pope or bishops. He possessed the insight to see his own shortcomings and sought the means to overcome them. He brought glory to the Church at a time when half of Europe became estranged from it. He did this, not by scholarship, preaching or teaching, but by giving his life totally to following in the footsteps of Christ the Good Samaritan. His life is relevant today because it helps to more clearly and happily discern the splendour of humanity.

John of God did not live a life of mere humanism or naturalism, he was not just a ‘do-gooder.’ He saw Jesus Christ in the person of those he served. He served God and humanity simultaneously, seeing one in the other. This put him in a different sphere to the mere humanist, it made him a Christian humanist and that made all the difference.

1-OBSCURE ORIGIN

Often the lives of saints devote much space to the circumstances of the birth and childhood of their subjects. St.

John of God is a notable exception, for many simple questions remain unanswered when his origin is investigated. John was born in 1495 in the little Portuguese town of Montemor 0 Novo, to humble peasants, Andrew and Teresa

Cidade. Apart from that, little more is known of his early childhood until the age of eight. Then an extraordinary event occurred. A pilgrim, some say a priest, visited the town and stayed overnight as a guest of the Cidades. The next morning he left for Spain and took the young Cidade boy with him. This episode is shrouded in mystery, and in spite of much conjecture, has to be left at that.

We next hear of young John Cidade at Oropesa in Spain, where he was adopted by a good Christian man named

Francisco Cid Mayoral. This kind man was of some means, being the overseer of the flocks of don Juan Ferruz, captain of the troops of Count Francisco Alvarez of Oropesa.

The circumstances which prompted Mayoral to adopt the boy are also not known. Did John “spin him a yarn” about being an orphan or abandoned? Such a conjecture would certainly throw grave misgivings on the boy’s homelife and upbringing. Again the mystery persists. Whatever the circumstances, Mayoral was impressed by the little boy from Portugal and became his protector and patron.

Young Cidade studied his school lessons at home with Mayoral’s only other child, a daughter. But John was more inclined by nature to an outdoors life rather than to study. When his formal schooling ended, Mayoral allowed him to attend the flocks. Already in his late adolescence, John was content to be a shepherd. He loved life in the open air, it was uncomplicated, healthy and peaceful. As Mayoral’s adopted son he had security, yet in spite of this he showed little ambition to take on Mayoral’s responsibilities. He also showed little interest in taking a wife and raising a family.

This worried the good Mayoral who nurtured the desire that his daughter might one day become John’s wife. The young shepherd was to know many happy years in the Mayoral household, and in the solitude of the Toledo hills and the company of his flocks, he grew to manhood. Like that other shepherd David, John was close to nature, close to God. Like David, the shepherd of Oropesa would one day have to leave his flocks to take up the sword. Like

David he would lose his innocence. And like him, he would repent.

SOLDIER OF SPAIN

Spain and France were at war and Emperor Charles V commanded his nobles to give him troops to fight the French in Navarre. The Count of Oropesa instructed Captain Ferruz to recruit his men. John Cidade was drafted into the army and marched north with the Oropesan regiment.

The war in Navarre had already been in progress for two years and the tide of battle had turned in favour of the Spaniards who were driving the French back over the Pyrenees.

The twenty years spent in the Christian environment of Mayoral’s home had protected Cidade, who, while not being overtly religious, was at least dutiful in fulfilling his religious obligations. Removed from this wholesome atmosphere his spiritual decline was rapid.

Army life opened up an entirely new world of experience to John Cidade. At the moment the fruit of his newly-found freedom seemed sweet to him, but he was soon to discover how quickly it would turn bitter. In later life he would remember his military days with sorrow for the offences he committed against God. But for the moment, sinner he was, and small wonder when his companions were so morally lax.

Although Cidade had neglected his religious duties, he had not lost his faith. This seems to have undergone an eclipse at this time, but it is quite evident that it was not far away when danger presented itself. This danger came, not from the enemy, but from his own companions.

A great deal of loot captured from the French was stored in a special compound. Cidade was assigned to guard-duty of the booty. Somehow, during the night the booty was stolen. Whatever the cause, asleep on duty or negligence, the guard was held responsible for the loss. The officer in charge was furious and sentenced the sentry to death there and then.

As Cidade stood with the noose about his neck a higher ranking officer rode up and enquired into the matter. Sensing that an injustice had been perpetrated, he ordered the condemned sentry to be released and commuted the death sentence to instant dismissal from the army.

Chastened by his close encounter with death, John Cidade’s thoughts turned to happier days. Life at Oropesa did not seem so bad after all. There he had peace of mind and soul. There he had a family that loved him. In the army John had found disgrace. In his disgrace he had found peace once more with God.

Returning to Oropesa, John was welcomed home by Mayoral and for a further eight years, resumed his work as a shepherd. We are now in the year 1532 and Cidade is thirty-eight years of age. Charles V. was about to set out on a crusade against the Turks who had invaded Europe as far as the gates of Vienna.

The question of marriage with Mayoral’s daughter was no longer an issue and John was free to do as he willed. The situation was far different since his sorry attempt at soldiering eight years previously. Again he enlisted in the regiment of the Count of Oropesa and went off to the war in Austria.

The decisive battle which won victory for the Christian forces took place on 25th September, 1532. It lasted for only one day and the Turks were forced to withdraw from Europe utterly defeated. Charles V. reviewed his victorious troops in Vienna the following day. Among those on parade was John Cidade. The Oropesan regiment marched overland to Flanders and then took ship to La Coruna in the north-west of Spain. Here they were disbanded and John Cidade decided that he would not return to Oropesa but make a pilgrimage to the famous shrine of Santiago of Compostela.

SPIRITUAL AWAKENING

At Compostela, John made his confession and received Holy Communion. He had reached a stage when his religion began to assume a larger dimension in his life. No longer would he take his faith for granted for he was beginning to realise that Christianity meant far more than simply calling oneself a Christian: it meant the actual following of Jesus Christ. This spiritual awakening resulted in an awareness and concern for others. He was beginning to show traits of that characteristic generosity which will develop and become more evident later on.

It was at Compostella that John decided to visit Montemor 0 Novo, the village of his birth. Leaving the shrine of Santiago, he followed the road through two-thirds of the Kingdom of Portugal and arrived at his destination in the middle of summer. During the journey he had plenty of time to contemplate what he had seen over the past year. He detested the horrors of war and the misery of the poor and sick people he encountered in the towns he had visited moved him as much as the victims of the war.

All these experiences were stirring his conscience and were enkindling that concern which would eventually become active when he would come to realise his vocation in life.

At Montemor 0 Novo he enquired about his parents. The only surviving member of his family .was an old uncle, Alphonsus Duarte, brother of John’s mother. The old man told John that soon after his disappearance from home as a child, his mother was overcome with a terrible depression and shortly died. After his wife’s death, Andrew Cidade went to Lisbon in search of his small son. He finally entered the Order of St. Francis as a lay brother and died a holy death. His parents’ tragedy haunted John for the rest of his days. In an agony of remorse he decided to spend his life doing penance for his sins.

WORKER IN AFRICA

John Cidade was still very restless. He left Portugal and went to Gibraltar. On the way, he stayed some time to help at a hostel for sick travellers at Ayamonte. If John had already expressed some sentiments of sympathy and compassion for the poor and sick, as indeed he did at Compostella and Ayamonte, such manifestations were simply the expression of a tender heart open to compassion. It was a natural compassion, yet to be fired and charged with the supernatural love which will result in his eventual vocation. At this time Cidade was confused. He sensed the sufferings of the underprivileged, yet did not know what he could do for them. He had still a long way to go to resolve his own personal problems before he would be in any position to help others.

In 1535, John Cidade crossed the narrow Strait of Gibralter and disembarked at the fortified Portuguese town of Ceuta. Although Ceuta was a Portuguese colony, it had none of the attractions or glamour of Portugal’s other colonies in the Indies or Brazil. This North African outpost had nothing to attract the free settler. It was a fortress and base to protect the home waters. Because of its situation, Ceuta was a very convenient penal colony for the deportation of criminals.

At Ceuta, John met an exiled Portuguese nobleman. This gentleman was sent into exile with his wife and four daughters by the king. This family was destitute and the father was too ill to work for his wife and daughters. John Cidade took pity on them and decided to support them.

John took work as a labourer on the city’s fortifications. Conditions were terrible and the cruel overseers made little distinction between the freemen, convicts and slaves, who worked upon the moat and wall of Ceuta.

In 1538 John was overjoyed to see the exiled noble family pardoned by the king and return to their homeland. He also was only too happy to quit this terrible place and made directly for Gibralter.

Cidade was now forty-three, he was bearded and burned by the African sun. Tall and strong in physique he had nothing but his uncrushable energy to maintain himself. For a while he took work on the docks and various labouring jobs in the city and was able to accumulate a little money.

SUCCESSFUL BOOKSELLER

With the money he had earned as a labourer, John Cidade decided to go into business. This venture into the commercial world is rather surprising since he had no previous experience in buying or selling. More surprising still was the choice of merchandise he chose to sell, for he became a travelling vendor of books and stationery.

After a period of about three months in which he hawked his wares about Gibralter, John decided to set out for Granada where he arrived towards the end of 1538. There, in the rich and splendid city once ruled by the Moors, Cidade’s wanderings finally came to an end. In an alcove near the medieval city wall, he set up his humble stall that soon became the best known bookshop in Granada.

Students, priests, nobles and merchants gathered there to listen to John’s tales of adventure, his war experiences and his wanderings. Business began to prosper and John Cidade was well on the way to becoming a substantial citizen. He was happy to be able to settle down at Granada and with a shop of his own, he enjoyed the security that his livelihood afforded him. Although his shop was small, it was well situated for business, being close to the busy Elvira Gate, the main entrance to Granada.

Early in January 1539, notices began to appear throughout the city advertising the popular feast-day of St. Sebastian to be celebrated on January 20th, in the Church of the Martyrs.

The preacher engaged to deliver the occasional sermon on St. Sebastian’s Day was Father John of Avila. Only thirty-nine years of age, this diocesan priest from Seville had already gained a wide reputation for preaching since embarking on a special mission to Andalusia nine years previously.

2-BREAKDOWN

John Cidade was in the church to hear Father Avila on January 20th. As the famous preacher told the story of St. Sebastian’s martyrdom and his loyalty to Christ, all John’s remorse for his early life and his past neglect of his religious duties burst into a great emotional upheaval. He realised that he could no longer remain in his comfortable complacency. Somehow he felt that God had used the words of Father Avila to awake in him a new conversion of spirit.

Then an extraordinary thing happened. The preacher’s words triggered something in Cidade’s psyche. Falling to his knees he groaned and sobbed and began telling everyone what a great sinner he was.

People began to gather about him, some were amused, others annoyed. Leaving the church, he continued to shout aloud his sins and threw himself to the ground. At first it seemed nothing more than an embarrassing spectacle, but when the apparently demented bookseller refused to cease his strange antics, the crowd’s sympathy turned to ridicule.

In minutes a rabble was at John’s heels, bawling that he had gone mad and showering him with stones and the filth of the gutters. Only when a few of his patrons managed to fight their way through the brutal mob was he finally snatched to safety and taken to meet Father John of Avila.

Alone with the priest, John calmed down and told him the story of his life. The learned and holy priest saw how genuine he was and promised to give him spiritual direction. But no sooner was the interview over and John was once again out on the streets, that he once more started to act as before.

Running towards his shop, John was pursued by the howling mob. Arriving at his little business, the frenzied proprietor tore down the shutters and commenced to smash the fixtures and stock. The crowd emptied the shop of its contents in moments, then rushing into his lodgings, poor John re-emerged and gave away all his clothing and personal effects to the grasping hands of the mob.

Nobody hated the ‘poor bookseller, they could not understand his strange behaviour, so what they could not understand they feared. In their ignorance they attacked the cause of this fear. Cidade did not conform to normal behaviour and as a consequence he bore their wrath. Finally, a few kind friends forced their way through the crowd and rescuing John, they had no alternative than to take him to the Royal Hospital where a special section was reserved for the insane.

CRUEL TREATMENT

Discount any idea you may have of a hospital when you observe the type of institution that passed for that name in the 16th century. They were fearsome places with damp halls and dark cells, reeking institutions where the insane were herded to keep them away from society. They were usually endowed by kings, bishops, nobles or wealthy merchants and were regarded as charitable foundations for the destitute. The wealthy shunned them.

Upon being locked away in the insane section of the hospital, John Cidade found himself introduced to a nightmare’ world he had hitherto never imagined. During his many travels he had experienced the sight of the feeble minded and demented, even soldiers who had broken down in the face of battle; but this was nothing in comparison to the horrors he now experienced.

Here all sorts of mentally ill persons of both sexes were thrown together in utter squalor and neglect. Manic and violent cases were chained to rings set into the walls or to large stone blocks. Dank straw and fetid mattresses were the sleeping quarters for these unfortunates and the whole place reeked with the stench of putrefaction and excreta.

Those who admitted Cidade to the hospital requested that he be well treated. However, this request was not granted for he was subjected to especially cruel treatment. For the first three days he was left alone in a tiny cell. Finding two small sticks, John fashioned a crude cross and placed it upon the wall. He was entering his Gethsemane and prayed to God for the strength to endure his mental anguish with fortitude and courage.

In this terrible place, John Cidade sensed that God was about to reveal to him the vocation that had so long eluded him. Gone was the maniac behaviour he had so recently demonstrated. He now found himself alone with his thoughts and his God,

After three days Cidade was removed from his cell and given the standard treatment for the insane. He was stretched naked upon the floor and given blows from a knotted whip. This followed with freezing water showered upon him. He bravely bore this cruel treatment but was revolted by the sufferings of his fellow inmates.

The attendants who administered this treatment were really no more than keepers of the insane. They were often men of base character who cared very little for those whom they were supposed to care for. John saw this and pointed out to them that they were keener to administer this cruel treatment than perform the more obvious things such as cleaning and feeding the sick. He accused them of betraying the trust of the authorities and this only made them turn upon him with vehemence and hatred. But John would not be silenced and told them that “it would be better to have compassion on the sick in their trials. Clean them and feed them better and show them greater charity and love.” This reprimand only served to aggravate the guards further and they vented their spleen on John with renewed vigour.

John also reprimanded the attendants for their graft and mismanagement of public funds intended for the welfare of the inmates. In time John’s floggings ceased and he was given freedom to move at liberty within the confines of the hospital. This was precipitated by his remark to the attendants about the misappropriation of charitable funds. This severely jolted them for they were aware that Cidade was a friend of Fr. John of Avila and it was now quite clear that he was not as insane as they had presumed, but only too aware of what was going on about him.

From now on these bullies began to secretly fear this strange man who had dared to reprimand them. As a result of John’s initiative, the other patients began to receive better treatment and within a few months a transformation had taken place in the insane wards of the Royal Hospital. The sick were washed and the filthy communal beds cleansed. Some obstacles still remained in John’s way, but hope had been restored to many unfortunates in that frightening place, simply because one man really cared for their welfare.

The changes for the better did not go unnoticed by influential observers, who, to the embarrassment of the hospital’s directors, were also interested in John Cidade. These men were his friends, his former clients at the bookshop, who had admitted John to the hospital five months previously. They informed Father Avila of John’s progress who set the machinery in progress for his release.

In May 1539, John Cidade was released from the insane section of the Royal Hospital of Granada. It was in this depraved place that John finally discovered his true vocation to fight for the rights and dignity of the sick in both body and mind.

3-HOUSE OF HOSPITALITY

John Cidade was determined to go ahead with his resolve to devote the remainder of his life to serving the underprivileged and the sick. However, before attempting to put his plan into practice, he set out to see Father Avila at Baeza for spiritual direction and then went on to make a pilgrimage to the famous Marian shrine at Guadalupe in Extremadura.

This pilgrimage had a twofold purpose for John. Firstly, the spiritual experience of visiting the shrine of Our Lady of Guadalupe, and secondly, to learn from the Jeronymite monks who conducted it, the techniques of medicine and nursing the sick. John spent three months learning as much as possible from the monks at Guadalupe and returned to Granada at the end of 1539.

Although he had Father Avila’s full support, John had no money to start his enterprise of charity. However, he did have some influential friends, thanks to Father John of Avila, and among them was Archbishop Gaspar de Avalos of Granada and Bishop Sebastian Ramirez of the Royal Chancellery.

Father Avila introduced John to a wealthy merchant, don Miguel de Venegas, who permitted him to use the courtyard of his villa as a temporary refuge for the destitute. Soon John brought so many sick and derelicts there that Venegas offered to pay the rent for some suitable premises.

John was able to rent a large house in the Calle Lucena near the fish markets and he moved his guests there just before Christmas 1539. The Archbishop of Granada and Bishop Ramirez both gave John their blessings and the latter gave him enough money to buy forty beds to furnish his house of hospitality.

The building had two storeys with a courtyard containing a fountain. From the very beginning it was a self-help institution under the guidance of John. With the money given by Bishop Ramirez, John installed single beds for he would not tolerate the evil communal beds used in other hospitals at that time. This was only one of many hospital reforms that John was to undertake.

Another innovation in hospital care was the custom John introduced at Lucena, of insisting that each patient had to be received with kindness and given a foot bath. He was able to employ some help with the money his benefactors gave him, and he told them that this cleansing had a twofold purpose. Apart from making the guest welcome, the washing, symbol of physical cleanliness, also symbolised the importance of the Sacrament of Penance, spiritual cleanliness. John had the physical welfare of his guests at heart and he also had their spiritual welfare in mind, for he said that the way to reach the soul was through the body.

John had that wonderful gift which brought out the best in people, a gift which four centuries later would become a recognised science. John Cidade was practising applied psychology. This washing exercise had yet another purpose. John used it to make his helpers recognise the importance of human dignity even in the most degrading cases. He explained that it was really the feet of Jesus Christ that they washed. So great was his personal belief in this, that he always sought to render this service himself where possible. “Through the body to the soul” became John’s motto. This was a sound theological maxim and clearly showed this great Christian humanist had more than the mere physical welfare of his guests at heart.

John’s hospital was a real house of hospitality, where the poor helped the poor and the infirm aided those in greater need than themselves. His hospital received anyone who was sick or destitute, and it was especially the mentally disturbed who had the greatest cause to be grateful to John far his Christian love and understanding. At John’s hospital there were no bleeding backs or tortured screams.

The impetus behind the enterprise of charity came from John, who personally saw to it that the fifty or more guests had enough to eat and ample bedding and clothing. From the beginning of his hospital in January 1540, the people of Granada became familiar with the sight of its founder going about the city each evening begging for his guests. John’s catch-cry was “Do well for yourselves brothers, do well for yourselves!” John reasoned that whoever gave generously to the poor sick would receive spiritual benefits in return. “I tell you solemnly, in so far as you did this to one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did it to me.” (Matt. 25:40). John adopted this injunction of Christ’s to remind the citizens of Granada of their duty as Christians to help the poor and needy.

A NEW NAME

Bishop Ramirez was so impressed with the work of Christian love being performed by John Cidade at his house of hospitality, that he summoned him to the Chancellery in order to give public recognition to him. He told John that he should adopt a new name more in keeping with the life of charity he had embraced. The bishop knew his man well, he knew John as a man of God, a man totally dedicated and committed to the service of God and suffering humanity. He told John that he had chosen a name for him, a name that signified and summarised the highest human qualities he knew he possessed. He asked John Cidade to henceforth call himself John of God.

John did not suggest the name to the prelate, nor did he ever think of appropriating it for himself. John of God! The name came quite spontaneously to the bishop. Certainly it was an inspired name and one he had no hesitation in bestowing upon John.

Bishop Ramirez had given John a new name in keeping with his mode of life, a name that commanded dignity and respect. However, the bishop was disconcerted that John’s attire did not distinguish him from the ragged guests at his hospital. Consequently he gave him a distinguishing habit. This was not a religious habit, but a suit of unbleached woollen trousers with a long tunic that came to the knees and was tied about the waist with a chord.

It is important to note that this investiture and new name did not represent an initiation into any religious society, nor for that matter, the beginning of a new one. Neither the bishop nor John had the slightest intention of forming a new religious congregation. John took no vows and to the day he died remained a layman in the Church. Nevertheless, the Holy Spirit would soon inspire many generous men to follow John of God in his way of charity and these would soon form the religious family which would proudly bear the name of the Brothers of John of God.

All his life John had been a pilgrim in search of his true vocation, now, with this public approval by the bishop, he knew for certain that his calling in life was to serve the poor, sick and destitute. John of God had peace of mind and was happy in the certain knowledge that he was doing what God willed him to do. At last he had found the vocation that had eluded him for so many years.

THE FIRST COMPANIONS

Nobody was excluded from the charity of John of God. He rescued many women from a sinful life in the city’s houses of ill fame and gave them refuge at his house of hospitality at Lucena. In many cases he was successful in placing them in honest employment and was able to find husbands for others.

Others to benefit from John of God’s Christian love were the orphans and abandoned children. He had a special love for the disturbed children and those with mental deficiency. All Granada was amazed at the way John of God’s house of hospitality actually ran itself. John’s generosity begot generosity in others and the guests helped each other. It was a truly therapeutic community in every sense of the meaning.

But all of John’s time was not entirely absorbed in begging and performing the endless duties that called for his attention at Lucena. All this was the manifestation of his love of God finding its expression in the service of his neighbour. For John of God the neighbour was all humanity, but especially suffering humanity, so explicitly illustrated in the parable of the Good Samaritan.

A MAN OF PRAYER

John of God obtained the strength to carry out his charitable works by his intense life of prayer. Sometimes he would spend the entire night and before dawn would slip out to attend Mass at a nearby church. During the activities of the day, John was constantly aware of the presence of God in all he did. He implored God’s mercy and help in all his needs. Such abiding sorrow for sin and his intense spirit of prayer were the means of basing his spiritual life on a sound foundation.

Soon others came to John of God and sought admission to his company to live like him and serve the poor sick. The first two brothers to be welcomed by John of God were men very much like himself. Anthony Martin and Peter Velasco were both worldly young men and notorious sinners. Through the influence of John of God they saw the error of their ways and returned to God’s friendship. Simon of Avila was not a wealthy man, but like Martin and Velasco he too was a repentant sinner. A well-to-do Genoese merchant, Dominic Piola, also sought admittance into John’s community of brothers after the death of his wife. Another to join John’s company was a former hermit, John Garcia. Others came, and although they were not a religious congregation at this time, they all dressed in similar garb to John of God and were known as the Brothers of John of God. These companions of Brother John of God formed the nucleus of what will eventually become the Hospitaller Order.

By 1547, the little hospital at Lucena was so crowded that John had to find new quarters. A large villa was obtained in the Calle Gomelez at the foot of the Alhambra. Meanwhile, despite the gifts from benefactors, John’s debts were mounting and he was forced to borrow large sums of money, saying frankly to his creditors that “Jesus Christ is my only security.”

So great were John of God’s debts that he decided upon a bold plan to seek alms. In 1548, he set out for the royal court, then situated at Valladolid. The Regent, the future King Philip II and his two sisters received him and were generous in their help.

On his way to Valladolid, John founded another hospital at Toledo and arranged to have some brothers from Granada to go there to staff it.

By the time he returned to Granada his health was fast failing under the constant toil, debts and the ignorant hostility of some of the “respectable” citizens who were suspicious of his work for the destitute.

At this time the Royal Hospital of Granada caught fire. The hero of the day was Brother John of God, who ran into the blazing building and rescued most of the trapped inmates.

Soon after the incident at the burning hospital, the River Genil which passes near Granada, burst its banks in flood. Brother John of God plunged into the freezing water in a vain attempt to rescue a drowning man. As a result of these heroic feats, his health completely collapsed.

HIS LAST DAYS

It was obvious to the brothers that their Father John of God was dying. He was confined to his bed and in great pain. However, he still had to suffer the anguish of false testimony. Some of the “respectable” citizens of Granada had reported to the Archbishop that John was harbouring malingerers and loose women at his hospital. With a tremendous effort he rose from his bed and had to be carried to the Archbishop’s residence. The slander was immediately disproven, but it was the final blow. A few days later Brother John of God collapsed and death seemed imminent.

The dying Brother was taken to the nearby home of a benefactress, dona Ana de los Pisa where the Archbishop and many nobles as well as the clergy of Granada and his own brothers kept constant vigil. Then an extraordinary thing happened. With a mighty effort he rose from his bed and knelt upon the floor clasping his crucifix in his hands. With all the voice he could muster, he said, “Jesus, Jesus into your hands I commend myself,” and so saying his soul left his body to take its flight to the God he so loved and faithfully served.

Brother John of God came to Granada only twelve years prior to his death. He was then unknown, unloved. At his death the whole city mourned and his was one of the greatest funerals ever seen there. John once said, “Granada is my Cross,” but it also proved to be his glory. Today his remains are enshrined in the magnificent Basilica of St. John of God at Granada.

TRUE HOLINESS

John of God’s life is an example of how a man can rise from mediocrity and sin to become a leader for Christ and a champion for the underprivileged. He overcame many difficulties, he suffered what we euphemistically call “a nervous breakdown.” He. underwent a genuine religious conversion, and from that day forward he discovered for the first time in his life, real happiness.

That happiness increased with his Christian maturity and communicated itself to those who became his followers. Looking back over the last twelve years of John of God’s life and comparing them with the years preceding, it is not difficult to see why the Church declared him a saint.

Saints are certainly not sad people. On the contrary they are happy and their happiness stems from the presence of God permeating their entire beings. Such was the case with John of God who found true happiness in serving God by caring for the corporal and spiritual welfare of the downtrodden and neglected members of humanity.

Unlike the people of Granada, who already called John a saint from the day he died, the Church was more cautious in officially declaring him as such. Before the honour of sainthood was bestowed, a most careful scrutiny and judgement of John’s life had to be made. This was a long and drawn out procedure. At the conclusion of the first proceedings, Pope Urban VIII issued a bull of beatification on 21st September, 1630, declaring him Blessed John of God.

The happy day of canonisation took place in St. Peter’s, Rome, on 16th October, 1690, when Pope Alexander VIII ratified that Saint John of God was a saint in heaven and worthy of public veneration.

In 1886, Pope Leo XIII proclaimed Saint John of God, together with St. Camillus de Lellis, to be co-patrons of the sick. Pius XI extended Saint John of God’s patronage to include nurses, nursing associations, hospitals and hospital auxiliaries.

Nihil Obstat:

Bernard O’Connor,

Diocesan Censor

Imprimatur:

@ James R. Cardinal Knox

Archbishop of Melbourne 1st July, 1973

********

Saint John The Baptist

BY DANIEL A. LORD, S.J

INDEX

When I was a very small youngster, John the Baptist was merely one of the more difficult hurdles in the path of the Confiteor: “I confess to Almighty God, to Blessed Mary ever Virgin, to Blessed Michael the Archangel, to Blessed John the Baptist . . .”

As I grew into a college student, I found him recurring in the magnificent art of the Renaissance. The painters of those glowing days liked to present him chiefly as one of the group made up of Mary and her little Son and Elizabeth and her strong young man son. Even then he was clad in rough garments, a prophetic symbolism, but a fact which Elizabeth, a devoted old mother, would hardly have tolerated.

She was not likely to clothe her little boy in rough camel’s hair. Anyhow I soon found out that there was no b asis for the pictures and the lovely groupings. John probably never saw his divine cousin until, a grown man, he welcomed Him on the banks of the Jordan.

As a Catholic I discovered that John plays an enormous part in the liturgy. The Church is constantly referring to him, writing him into the Mass-though St. Joseph was never granted a place there. And I learned that whole nations, France notably, regarded him as precisely a patron needed for a race that loved the Saviour.

I MEET A SAINT

But my real introduction to St. John the Baptist came at the hands of a man to whom I owe much besides. Father Claude J. Pernin, who as a young Jesuit teacher had guided my way into the Society of Jesus, remained a friend through the years. Chiefly he was the spark which (or should we say who?) constantly enkindled in me new interests and new enthusiasms. To drop into his room at Loyola University in Chicago was to expose oneself to some electrical contact that invariably resulted in an intellectual or a mental explosion. He had no need for the famous log which is supposed to be the third ingredient-together with professor-and pupil-needed to make a university. All he required was a willing listener, or a university class and a kind of small, personalised retreat was in progress.

I remember knocking on his door on this historic day, wondering, as I did, what the enthusiasm of the moment might be: a new author he had discovered, a great classic from which he had recently blown the dust, a radio programme that had sharp significance, a new scientific invention that he felt would revolutionise the world, a new friend whom he found inspiring? What?

NEW ENTHUSIASM

He turned his head as I entered, and I saw that he was deep in a stack of manuscript paper. He waved one of his currently important mechanical pencils in my direction. And as I sank into his chair, he began to speak in a low murmur that soon rose to eloquent peroration.

“I”m working on a new conference for a retreat. It’s going to be about John the Baptist.” For a s econd I sensed an intuitive connection between his own French ancestry and the enthusiasm the French have for their beloved Jean Baptiste.

“What a man! What a man!” he continued. (That phrase was still complimentary and not stereotyped slang.) “I never heard a retreat conference on St. John the Baptist. Have you?”

He did not pause for an answer. “A really modern man . . . and how badly needed in our times! Courage . . . the courage to tell the truth to the powerful, no matter what it cost him personally. A rugged, fiery crusader who beat men and women with the whip of his words, and that loved him for it . . . or hated him enough to slice off his head. . . . That tremendous devotion to Christ! And yet Christ neglected him as He neglected no one else in His life. Or was it neglect? Was it tribute to a man who didn’t need to be babied along. . . . who, no broken reed, could stand alone . . . yes; and then stand aside for the man he knew to be greater than himself? What a death! What a magnificently dramatic death!”

He whirled on me, shaking the sheets of scribbled paper in my direction. “What do you know about John the Baptist?”

WHAT CAME OF IT?

With a mixed sense of abashed ignorance and suddenly enkindled interest I confessed that I knew almost nothing about him.

He smiled in that inimitably friendly fashion and waved the sheets in my direction: “If you ever make a retreat with me from this point on, my boy, you will. From this day onward no retreat without a talk on exactly the type of man we moderns need. No retreat without John the Baptist to teach us how to act when Christ is around.”

Whether he ever wrote the conference and delivered it, I”m not absolutely sure. Even if he did, it lingers on only in the memories of those fortunate few who listened to his undoubted eloquence. The notes he left after his premature death would be of little help. His jottings were cryptic, a succession of lead words that meant everything to him and nothing to anyone else; and often they were not words at all but scrawled shorthand characters in the system of shorthand invented by his father and taught these days almost in no place in the world.

DISCOVERIES

But when I left his room, I was fired with a desire to meet and know the Precursor of the Lord. I found shortly afterward that”The Lion of St. Mark” throughout the early chapters of the second Gospel was no lion at all, but the voice of John the Baptist roaring in the desert. I came to realise with amazement that the man we think of as having been old, mature, grey-haired, and lined of face was, when he was murdered, only a few months older than the Saviour-a youngster by the standards of years, perhaps not more than thirty-three years old, or less.

Each new picture that I saw of him I came to analyse carefully in the light of my growing knowledge of him: the strong man in whom were blended the elements of a hermit and of a violent crusader; a fierce orator who could tear the silken garments off a Pharisee’s back and leave his naked, wizened soul trembling in the wind, yet a man who could turn to the poor on the riverbank and give them a most consoling, simple, reassuring code of conduct; the prophet who kindled the fires in the light of which the world’s Saviour could walk upon the stage; a self-effacing man who, once his speech of introduction was made, would quietly disappear from the scene; a man who cried aloud for penance that would wash away the world’s foul, defiling sins, yet who found for Christ the sweetest and gentlest of metaphors: “Behold the Lamb of God.”

A MAN INDEED

John the Baptist would have made, I often thought, with all respect, one of the greatest of radio orators. How he could flay the guilty- naming names and calling people by their characteristic sins! No wonder that he captured the fancy of an Oscar Wilde, and has been used as the central figure of a modern opera, “Salome.” But I feel sorry for Wilde and Strauss if they met the great saint in eternity. He probably flung at them the taunts he heaped upon the sinful Herod and the rotten Herodias, who lived with Herod in incest. I cannot fancy the Baptist’s bearing with patience the writers who thrust him into the centre of a lustful story whose heroine is the vicious Salome of the seven veils.

Because he was a man among men and a prophet surprisingly with honour among his own people, I thought he might bear reintroduction to men and women of the present age. He despised hypocrites. He had frank and savage names for those who sinned in the flesh. His reaction to the slovenly, quasi-concubinage of much of modern marriage would, were he living today, make him socially as unpopular as he was in the court of Herod; he would not bear our lax customs with patience or in silence. His crusading spirit would gather men and women for high adventure. Certainly today he would be sending his own followers, and all who would willingly listen to hear and accept and follow the Saviour of the world.

John the Baptist was, perhaps strangely enough, beloved by the Jews. Josephus, the great Jewish historian, regarded him as an honour to the one race in the world that produced authentic prophets. The Baptist became a pivot around which the Old Testament swung swiftly into the New. He was the link that connected the Old Law of Moses with the New Law of Christ. He was the last of the divinely-chosen Jewish leaders. He was the first of the authentic Christians.

CURTAIN RISES

The life of John the Baptist begins in high drama. The setting is the world’s holiest. Before the curtains of the holy of holies, the most sacred spot on earth, stands the white-clad figure of the sacrificing priest. We see him check on the incense in his thurible, and then, as if seeking strength, look back through court falling away from court to the people who wait breathlessly while he, their priest, carries their prayers symbolically into the presence of God.

At that exalted moment the priest, Zachary, of the line of Aaron and married to a woman from the same holy line, forgets the great trial of his life: that he and Elizabeth are childless.

For at that moment all the people of Israel are his children, and he carries their joys and their woes, their gratitude and their gripping needs into the audience chamber of the Almighty.

Precisely that audience chamber is the spot that God selects for the lifting of the old priest’s trial and the first announcement that the redemption of mankind is at hand. We can see the old man bending over the incense altar and then drawing back, his eyes slightly clouded by the heavy smoke that rolls up and that in vivid metaphor expresses the people’s prayers that rise in sweet odour before the throne of God. We can see through the smoke the slowly forming outlines of the Angel Gabriel. History was to know him as the Angel of the Incarnation. At that second he was only a glorious being whose presence there threw the old priest into a tremble.

THE ANGEL

The news of the Incarnation, the long-delayed arrival of the Messias, for whom Israel has been waiting almost to the point of despair, is announced indirectly. Before there is mention of Jesus, there is mention of John.

“Fear not, Zachary, for thy prayer is heard; and thy wife Elizabeth shall bear thee a son, and thou shalt call his name John. And thou shalt have joy and gladness, and many shall rejoice in his nativity. For he shall be great before the Lord and shall drink no wine nor strong drink. And he shall be filled with the Holy Ghost, even from his mother’s womb.

“And he shall convert many of the children of Israel to the Lord their God.”

HIGH DESTINY

Thus far it was John, and only John. But now the true greatness of this promised son leads directly to the Saviour. “And he shall go before Him in the spirit and power of Elias; that he may turn the hearts of the fathers unto the children, and the incredulous to the wisdom of the just, to prepare unto the Lord a perfect people.” “The saints have loved to dwell on the momentary incredulity of this old man stunned by the greatness, of the prospect opening before him, yet realistic about his advanced age and the age of his wife.

“And Zachary said to the angel: Whereby shall I know this? For I am an old man, and my wife is advanced in years.”

Then the angel lifted his voice in power and prophecy: “I am Gabriel, who stand before God, and am sent to speak to thee and to bring thee these good tidings. And behold, thou shalt be dumb and shall not be able to speak until the day wherein these things shall come to pass, because, thou hast not believed my words, which shall be fulfilled in their time.”

VISION

Outside the people stirred in restlessness and worry. Their priest was delaying too long. What was happening within the secrecy of the holy of holies? Then when Zachary reappeared, one look at his face, and they saw a vision reflected there. He opened his mouth to explain the wonder as best he could; but no words came. His voice was gone. He passed through their murmuring midst and stumbled home, frightened, chastened, but in his heart expectant and filled with a great hope.

“And after those days, Elizabeth his wife conceived and hid herself five months, saying: Thus hath the Lord dealt with me in the days wherein He hath had regard to take away my reproach among men.”

AFTER SIX MONTHS

Six months after Zachary’s vision in the Temple the Angel Gabriel, messenger of the Messias, again sped to earth, bowed before a Virgin, saluted her as full of grace, and announced the greatest tidings ever spoken to a mortal. Then he turned from the Saviour-soon to rest in Mary’s heart-to the Saviour’s ambassador, already lying under the heart of Elizabeth, Mary’s cousin.

“Behold thy cousin Elizabeth, she also hath conceived a son in her old age; and this is the sixth month with her that is called barren; because no word shall be impossible with God.”

Mary knew then that God’s plans were complete; to announce her Son-to-be-born, a forerunner had already been conceived. She lowered her head in acceptance of divine maternity, knelt to the God within her, and then sped down the roads and into the hill country where Elizabeth dwelt in happy expectancy.

MIRACLE VISIT

Mary entered her cousin’s house, pulled back the heavy curtain of Elizabeth’s room, and spoke her greeting. Instantly Elizabeth was on her feet, and, in that Visitation, which artists have so loved, caught her younger cousin by the hands. The child within Elizabeth’s body leaped with joy; for the Holy Spirit filled her and washed away any stain of original sin that might have weighed down the spirit or hampered the ambassadorial feet of John the Precursor.

“Blessed art thou among women,” cried the joyous Elizabeth, “and blessed is the fruit of thy womb. And whence is this to me, that the mother of my Lord should come to me? For behold as soon as the voice of thy salutation sounded in my ears, the infant in my womb leaped for joy.”

And then Mary’s lovely young voice rang out for the first time in one of literature’s greatest poems. “Magnificat!” she intoned, for the sole audience of Elizabeth and the unborn baby who was to walk ahead of her advancing Son as He moved toward world conquest.

ENTRANCE

Events flow swiftly. John is born, with Mary to serve him as nurse. The neighbours and relatives rush in to shower the aged mother withtheir congratulations. Then the question of a name comes up. “He shall be called John,” says Elizabeth. And the relatives-with an eye to family tradition, a possible rich uncle to be pleased, and a customary name to continue-cry out in sharp protest: “There is none of thy kindred that is called by this name.” Zachary, still dumb, reaches for a tablet and writes emphatically, “John is his name.” And immediately his tongue moves and he speaks another of our great poems: “Blessed be the Lord God of Israel; because He hath visited and wrought the redemption of His people.”

Then, taking his little son in his arms, he turns prophet: “And thou, c hild, shalt be called the prophet of the Highest. For thou shalt go before the face of the Lord to prepare His ways; to give knowledge of salvation to His people unto the remission of their sins . . . to enlighten them that sit in darkness and in the shadow of death; to direct our feet, into the way of peace.”

Never on the head of so small a babe had been laid so heavy a responsibility and so high a trust. Never was another mortal man to fulfill so high an office with finer zeal and more unselfish devotion.

NO FURTHER CONTACT

Mary hurries back to her own home, to her affianced bridegroom, and to the swift-moving events of the Nativity. Thereupon John simply disappears from the pages of the story. Not once during all the intervening years between his birthand Christ’s baptism in the Jordan does he and the man whose cause he is to trumpet came into even passing contact. The cruel plot of the first Herod hurries the Infant away into Egypt. Early in his young manhood John goes out into the desert to take up that hermit life which is his preparation for his divinely-appointed office. When Jesus returns to Nazareth, it is to settle down to the quiet, uneventful years in a carpenter’s house and shop. The young John is already beating his soul into the steel weapon he was to lay about him, earning through penance and prayer the right to be the first to speak to mankind of the God Who had come to save them.

HIDDEN

So the lovely Renaissance paintings that depict the Holy Family together, the little Jesus and the little John playing in youthful companionship, are delightful poetry and very bad history. John was later to confess that he would not have known Jesus when he first saw Him on the banks of the Jordan if God had not sent a vision to point out that this was the Man for Whom he was waiting.

The hidden life of Jesus in Egypt and in Nazareth is paralleled by the hidden life of John in the desert. We know nothing about him-until suddenly he comes striding out of the wilderness, a grown man with a sense of his divine commission and a message that rings out to the delighted ears of the expectant people.

RETURN

The man himself must have captured at once the imaginations of the people. He comes wearing a camel’s-hair cloak, with rough leather girded about his loins. Not only has he fulfilled the angel’s prophecy that he would not drink wine, but he has eaten no meat and has depended for his food upon the wild honey and edible locusts of the desert.

Instantly the people think of the prophecy of Isaias. “Behold,” he had foretold, centuries before, “I send my angel before thy face, who shall prepare the way before thee. A voice of one crying in the desert: Prepare ye the way of the Lord; make straight His paths.”

A voice! Exactly that did John the Baptist think himself. He was the trumpet blasting reveille over the heads of a drowsy people. He was the man whose very garb showed his contempt for the soft living and easy customs that had sunk the people of Israel into moral stupor and apathetic content with the partial religion that was theirs. He was a shock to their nerve with his strident voice and imperative mood.

PROLOGUE

“Do penance” he cried, and his voice rocked the countryside. “For the kingdom of heaven is at hand.”

Christ later on was to characterise him as “a burning and a shining light.” And so he was. But John thought of himself only as the actor presented with the role of prologue. He gave an introductory speech, nothing more. He laboured that the stage might be ready for the entrance of the main character. He cried aloud a cue-line which, even as he uttered it, concluded his part in the drama and was signal for the entrance of the star.

The sight of this hermit suddenly walking the banks of the holy Jordan enthralled the people. They hardly paid attention to what he said, so engrossed where they with the majesty and power and radiance and uniqueness of the man himself. We can see them pouring along the roads from Jerusalem and from the little towns of Judea. The good and holy came and stepped down into the stream to feel over their heads the waters of his symbolic baptism. He was indicating to them the cleanness that should characterise a world fit to welcome the Son of God made man. The evil and merely curious came, and he lashed out savagely at their secret crimes.

FOR HYPOCRITES

Upon the banks of the river a cluster of Pharisees and Sadducees stood looking at him obliquely, holding their robes back from possible contact with the sinful mob that was going down into the water. Prophetically John saw the part they would play in the tragedy of Christ. Now, looking at their contemptuous mouths and cynical eyes, he read their pride, their secret determination not to lose their grip on power and precedence. They had not come to him out of sorrow for their sins. They felt they had no need for cleansing waters. They just wanted to be sure that this new fanatic would not upset their apple-carts and that he taught the mob nothing that would disturb the soft flow of their ordered lives of ease and wealth.

The voice of John is strident as he lashes out at their hypocrisy.

“Ye brood of vipers! Who hath showed you to flee from the wrath to come? Bring forth, therefore, fruit worthy of penance.”

He watched their curled lips. Why, they were saying, as they shifted to avoid the hot breath of this zealot, they were of the chosen people, chosen among the chosen, with the law inscribed on their garments, their hands fresh from many ceremonial washings. Abraham was their father, the law their safeguard.

“Think not to say within yourselves,” cried John, probing with merciless fingers their secret depths: “We have Abraham for our father. For I tell you that God is able of these stones to raise up children to Abraham.”

“PREPARE YE!”

He turned back to the crowd. “For now the axe is laid to the root of the trees. Every tree, therefore, t hat doth not yield good fruit shallbe cut down and cast into the fire.” He pointed with the power of his ambassadorship to the Messias they expected: “I indeed baptise you in water unto penance, but He that shall come after me is mightier than I, whose shoes I am not worthy to bear. He shall baptise you in the Holy Ghost and fire.”

He whirled again on the cynical sceptics. He knew that they dreaded the possibility of the coming of the Messias. They wanted no disturbing of their power over the people, their control of lush revenues, their influence with Rome. “Whose fan is in His hand, and He will thoroughly cleanse His floor and gather His wheat into the barn. But the chaff”-his voice stung them with its flat implications-”He will burn with unquenchable fire.”

FOR THE POOR

The leaders of the people, who in so short a time were to be leaders only of the landless, turned away in contempt. But the people themselves pressed around the speaker. “What, then, shall we do?” they begged.

Almost in a foretaste o f what Christ was later to preach, he answered: “He that hath two coats, let him give to him that hath none; and he that hath meat, let him do in like manner.” It was social justice and charity that he enjoined upon them.

On the outskirts of the crowd stood the pub licans, poor outcasts, despised by everyone. Strangely enough, John’s rough invective did not frighten them. Instead, they walked into the water beside him and asked, hopefully, “Master, what shall we do?” His answer was full of gentle reassurance. “Do nothing more than that which is appointed you,” he replied. They sighed with relief. Yes; there was hope for them, despite the contempt showered upon them by the selfrighteous.

AND SOLDIERS

A crowd of soldiers had been standing nearby, wondering whether they, men of blood and death, dared approach the cleansing waters. One of them finally mustered a courage higher than that needed for battle. Inspired by the gentle answer given to the publicans, he approached John and asked, “And what shall we do?” Again the stern man is surprisingly gentle, wonderfully reassuring to the less fortunate: “Do violence to no man; neither calumniate any man; and be content with your pay.”

Content with your pay? The soldiers understood that. No more pillage; no more graft wrested from people unable to defend themselves against oppressive garrisons; no more sacking of conquered cities.

NOT THE CHRIST

But his transparent goodness and his strength and courage made them hope for still more from him. Could it be that he was the Messias? What luck if they were to be led by a man with such power and gentleness, such eloquence and fearless courage!

“Who art thou?” It was the messengers of the high priests who put the question. But it was the populace who hung on the answer.

Instantly he killed any false hopes. He did not answer the question they asked; he answered the question they wanted to, ask. “I am not the Christ,” he said.

“What then?” they demanded. “Art thou Elias?”

They had believed that Elias would return to earth to act as spokesman for the coming Saviour.

“I am not,” he answered.

They persisted. “Art thou the prophet?”

He shook his head. “No.” His humility assumed no such title.

Then they pounced upon him: “Who art thou, that we may give an answer to them that sent us? What sayest thou of thyself?”

And again he cried: “I am the voice of one crying in the wilderness, make straight the way of the Lord.”

The unbelievers who later on were to deny the Christ Whom John prefaced now turned away without further interest. The populace, who later were to crowd up the Mount from which Jesus would speak, pressed about him, hoping to hear more.

HE COMES

And that more came soon. John looked up from the stream into which flowed the steady cross-current of sinners and saw upon the bank the tall, straight, manly figure of the one for whom he waited. We can see the Precursor look up in surprise. Is this really the man? He had not in all his life, laid eyes upon Him. Yet for Him he had spent thirty years in constant preparation. With the hope of His coming was his whole soul preoccupied. Was this the man?

He watched while the newcomer -His clothes lying on the river bank-walked slowly into the water, His head bowed for baptism.

“I knew Him not,” John later told his disciples. “But He Who sent me to baptise with water said to me: He upon whom thou shalt see the Spirit descending, and remaining upon Him, He it is that baptiseth with the Holy Ghost. And I saw, and I gave testimony that this is the Son of God.”

LAMB OF GOD

The tremendous truth of man’s redemption by the sacrifice of the Son of God, a truth on which he had long meditated in the desert, now floods upon him. In a voice almost too tense for more than exclamation he cries out, “Behold the Lamb of God.”

The Lamb of God, indeed! He, John, was to die for the whim of a sinful girl, the vice of a sinful woman, the weakness of a sinful king. This Lamb was to die the ultimate sacrifice of all sacrifices, for the sins of all the world.

Then with a start John realised what was expected of him. The newcomer, this expected Messias, for whom he was to act as mere outrider, had bowed His head, expecting baptism, his baptism, a pitifully ineffective symbol of poured water. John drew back in no affectation of humility, but in a real sensing that, for some inexplicable reason, their places had been reversed.

“I ought to be baptised by thee,” he cried. “And comest thou to me?”

OBEDIENCE

Jesus for the first time looked into the eyes of the man who had given Him an entire lifetime of relentless devotion.

It was His first words to this ambassador. “Suffer it to be so now. For so it becometh us to fulfill all justice.” And John, obedient to the first demand of this “mightier than I,” poured the water of symbolic baptism over the head of the Christ of the nations. But only for a moment was this humiliation tolerated. Instantly the heavens opened, and the world received its first full revelation of the Trinity. John stood there in the water, perhaps the only one present who understood what was taking place. From heaven thundered the voice of the Father: “This is My beloved

Son, in Whom I am well pleased.” And the Holy Spirit descended from heaven in the form of a stainless dove. So the Father in heaven and the Son upon earth and the Holy Spirit midway between them offered to the delighted eyes of the Baptist the glorious vision of the Trinity, the three Divine Persons in the one God.

HIS DISCIPLES LEAVE

This was the high point in John’s career. Up to this time he had had the centre of the stage. He had gathered disciples around him, training them, not for his work, but in anticipation of the need which the Messias might have for trained followers. Now, very quietly and without the slightest resentment, he begins to step aside. He starts with one of the hardest renunciations a man can make. He sends to the newcomer his own best friends, the men he has prepared and bound to himself with affection and gratitude.

It was some time later that Jesus walked again near the river Jordan. John was still baptizing, but again he cried out to his disciples, “Behold the Lamb of God.” Two of his followers heard this. They looked up at the magnificent Man Whom a few days earlier their master had baptised, and they knew that John had given them a signal. They left him standing there in the river and followed Jesus.

Jesus turned and saw the young men. He loosed upon them His compelling smile.

TO FIND JESUS

“What seek you?” He asked.

They didn’t know what to say. This was clearly the Man about Whom John had been talking. But what was expected of them? They fumbled for a question that would not sound too abrupt, and hit on a rather strained one: “Master, where dwellest Thou?”

Jesus answered, “Come and see.” And they walked along with Him to spend the day in His company. What were the feelings of John, left alone there in the river? Jesus had not so much as spoken to him. It was not to him, the Precursor, but to his disciples that Christ had issued that gracious invitation. And John knew as clearly as he could know anything that the men would never return to him again. Not after their knowing the companionship of Christ would they be content to spend their days in the company of the man who merely foreshadowed Him.

Was there a certain wistfulness in the eyes of John as he saw them disappear? Or was there rather a sort of holy pride that he had contributed to the Saviour not only the preliminaries of His mission but the men who were to help Him with His work? For of the two men one was Andrew, who later, glowing from the thrill of that day with Jesus, rushed off to find his fisherman brother, a big, rough chap called Simon.

“We have found the Messias,” Andrew cried. And out of curiosity Simon went along with his brother to see th is man who outshone even the Baptist. Then together they rounded up Philip, a fellow townsman. And when next John again looked up from the river, here was Jesus surrounded by a growing cluster of associates, led by the man whom he first had selected and to whom he had given their initial training and inspiration.

WANING

But John was not yet through with his swift retreat into oblivion. Christ, he learned, had begun to baptise. There was no question in John’s mind about Christ’s right to take the holy Jordan for His locale. Quietly John slipped away, higher upstream, into smaller tributaries, then to tiny creeks further and further away from the Jordan.

Willing as John was to give way before the rising power of Christ, he had friends who lacked his sense of proportion and humility. When they found him baptising in a subsidiary stream, they boiled over with indignation.

“Rabbi,” they cried out, saluting him with all the respect they felt for his undoubted power and holiness, “He that was with thee beyond theJordan, to Whom thou gavest testimony, behold He baptiseth, and all men come to Him.”

You can feel the indignation in their report. Possibly they expected to see John flare up in resentment. Why the fellow they are talking about had got His start from John. If John hadn’t borne testimony to Him, would people have paid any attention to Him? Now, with all the consummate nerve He was trespassing in John’s own river, taking over John’s own work of baptising. And, to make things worse, the very crowds that once had flocked to John were now flocking in fickle fashion to the intruder.

The voices of his friends were tense with irritation. They waited for the eloquence of John to blast the Man Who had taken over his friends, his river, his work.

INCREASE -DECREASE

Instead John answered with sweet reasonableness.

“A man cannot receive anything, unless it be given him from heaven.”

Yes, he implied; He has received my disciples, my river, my work. But heaven gave these things to Him. They are

His by right. “You yourselves do bear me witness that I said I am not Christ, but that I am sent before Him.” He turned, then, to a comparison that they could easily understand. “He that hath the bride is the bridegroom; but the friend of the bridegroom, who standeth and hearethHim, rejoiceth with joy because of the bridegroom’s voice. This my joy, therefore, is fulfilled.” Christ is the bridegroom; I am the friend. The people are His bride, not mine. I am happy to stand aside and let His joy overflow my soul.

Then he laid down quietly and simply his whole platform, the course which he had set for himself and meant to follow to the end.

“He must increase, but I must decrease.”

Grand, brave, unselfish John! He simply steps aside with a smile, happy that the real Christ has come, that the people now walk with the divine bridegroom. His work is done. He lives contented in the reflection of the joy of his Lord.

THE FOE

But his is not to be a life of quiet retirement. His stepping aside is not to bring him peace and rest. Upon the throne sits the second Herod, true kin of the man who had had the babes of Bethlehem butchered, in the hope that, by his killing them all, he would be sure to murder the Infant King. This Herod had taken to wife his own brother’s bride, and she and Salome, her lustful daughter, ruled the palace and set the standard of conduct-conduct that shocked their Jewish subjects. The Romans were used to crime in high places; the gods had set the fashions; the emperors and empresses had been glad enough to translate the vices of pagan divinities into human custom. But this was not the accepted way in Judea. So the John who had not hesitated to slash at the hypocrites on slightly lower levels did not now hesitate to strike straight at the incestuous King Herod.

“It is not lawful for thee to have thy brother’s wife,” he thundered.

HEROD LISTENS

Herod had his moments when conscience awoke from its drunken stupor and spoke compellingly. First he heard that John had denounced him in the public streets. Then, to his amazement, but to his admiration-for Herod was still man enough to revere courage-John dared, camel’s-skin garb and all, to stride into the palace, beat upon the throneroom door, stalk before the king, and without so much as a glance at the women, mother and daughter, who shrank back from his righteous wrath, demand that the king give up the woman to whom he had no right.

Oddly enough, Herod listened. He even seemed to be glad to hear the prophet. Was he himself sick of his sin? Was he tired of the slavery which passion had fastened upon him, and weary of the dictation of this woman, who, through her grip on his body, reached out to grip his kingdom, too? He let John go free. He respected his honesty and admired his fearlessness.

But Herodias. . . .—But a vindictive woman is not to be insulted without payment. Herodias hounded her lover by day and nagged him by night, until at length Herod sent out his soldiers to capture the prophet and throw him into a not too uncomfortable cell. For a bit Herodias was pleased. But then, to her amazement and fury, she found that mere captivity was no way to silence courage and truth. The people gathered outside the bars of John’s cell while he denounced her, the queen, in the very names she most rated and most deeply hated. And, what was worse, Herod, who had a warped, twisted, superstitious interest in religion, had the fellow brought out of his cell at intervals and insisted on listening to him. It was that same queer curiosity which later made him lean forward with acute interest when Jesus was dragged into his court, hoping that the “magician” would do one of the tricks about which the whole town was talking.

It was bad enough for Herodias to hear echoes of what John was saying about her and her conduct. It was intolerable to walk into Herod’s study and find him closeted with the fellow, who, as she entered, stood up, pointed a finger at her, and named her with an unbearable, unendurable name. So Herodias, who knew Herod better than she knew the palm of her hand, laid her plans. John’s tongue wagged too much. She would silence it in the most effective way that a tongue could be silenced.

NO REPINING

Meanwhile, John spent his days in prison, and Jesus lifted not a finger to save His ambassador. Did John wonder a little at the silence? He, John, had given Jesus all that he had. Now that he lay in a prison cell, the man who had miracles for every chance stranger, for any tramp that came along, for any beggar who stretched out a trembling hand, sent no angel-as later He was to do for Peter-struck down no guards-as He was to do so easily in Gethsemani.

Many a lesser man would have sat and brooded in resentment. “After all I did for Him, He treats me like this!” Many a man less self-effacing would have used his power with Herod or the strength of his influence with the people to manage his own escape, seeing that his friend took no steps to effect it. Instead, John makes another disinterested gesture. He sends Christ still more of his disciples.

A LAST GIFT

Despite the rising sun of Christ’s power, a few of John’s disciples had continued to follow him. They went with him into the obscurity of the back country. In the easy-going fashion of the day they were permitted to come to him in prison and take care of his physical needs, few though they were. They loved to sit with him while he talked to them, prayed with them, or dreamed his great dreams of what the Messias would do for Judea. With something like positive distress he noticed that these few clung to him and paid little or no attention to Jesus. He loved them sincerely; indeed, he loved them so much that he was unwilling to see them sacrifice themselves for the lesser leader who was himself.

So one day he determined to throw them into such close association with Jesus that they would realise His claims to the Messiahship and give Him their fullest devotion. He deliberately sent his remaining disciples to the Saviour, Who was walking the roads of the land and working His miracles and teaching His marvellous, compelling truths.

“Just ask Him this,” he instructed them:

“Art Thou He that art to come, or look we for another?”

They went, these last of his disciples, and John saw them go with the deep hope that, once they had felt the magnetic fascination of the Saviour, they would join Him forever and leave His Precursor without disciples.

JESUS ANSWERS

Jesus” answer was all that John had hoped it would be. First of all, they were confronted with the power of His mission. “In that same hour He cured many of their diseases, and hurts, and evil spirits; and to many that were blind He gave sight.”

All this the disciples of John saw with amazement and delight. Sweeping these proofs together into a sentence, He said, “Go and relate to John what you have heard and seen: The blind see, the lame walk, the lepers are made clean, the deaf hear, the dead rise again, to the poor the Gospel is preached.”

They ran back with the message. And when John saw their faces, he knew that he had lost still more of his disciples-and he was deeply glad.

NO HELP

Yet, in our cheaper way of thinking, isn’t it strange that never once did John send disciples to say to Christ, “If miracles are so easy for You, why don’t You work one that will deliver me from captivity?” Never once does he sug- gest, “You were loud in Your praise of those who visit the captive. Couldn’t You turn aside for a few minutes to visit me, who spent a lifetime working for You?”

Not John. He knew that the miracles of Christ were never worked for Himself or His friends; they were for the confirmation of His mission and the bulwarks of His truth. When He was concentrating on His Father’s business, He had not time to turn aside even to spend a night under His mother’s roof. John asked no exception in his case. He had given Christ everything, down to his last disciple. He waited until Christ’s own good time for whatever return He cared to make.

THE PLOT BEGINS

But Herodias had finally conceived and developed her plot, and it was a clever one. The dinner that she spread for Herod and his fellow wastrels was heavy with food and deep in wine. They ate until they were soggy; they drank until their minds were reeling. Then Herodias sent out her own daughter to dance for their flaming delight. She danced as only one of those Oriental harlots knew how to dance; and when, at the end, she fell in mock exhaustion before Herod’s banquet table, the men were in an uproar of passion.

Herod leaned over and lifted the hot, panting girl.

“Ask anything you want!” he cried. “Yes, anything. On my word as a king, if you ask for half my kingdom, it’s yours.”

Salome rose to her feet, slipped about her the robe a maid presented, and bowed her head in mock humility and affected gratitude.

“Let me consult,” she said, in pursuance of the plot, “my mother, your wife, and the lady you love.”

She left the hall to the thunders of the men’s applause, while with ribald joke and obscene compliment they flattered the drunken king on his good luck in having such a stepdaughter.

THE PLOT SUCCEEDS

Salome returned still breathless, still very shy and diffident.

“Speak, my girl,” cried the king, “What ever you and your mother want. Be generous in your request. Ask freely.” The girl lifted her head. Her eyelids were slits; her lips were taut and hard. There was no smile now, no shy timidity.

“Give me,” she almost hissed, “the head of John the Baptist on a platter.”

As if they had suddenly been doused with cold water, the men sat completely cold sober. They had expected her to ask for jewels, for a span of racing Arabians, for half a dozen slaves, perhaps for a holiday in Rome or in the Alps. She was, asking-for murder.

“What?” demanded Herod, rising sharply as if a blow had slapped him to his feet. “The head of-?”

GRANTED

Then one of the nobles, relapsing into uncontrollable drunkenness, snickered. Someone else, perhaps a serving maid who in the kitchen below had had forewarning of the plot, giggled. Then suddenly there rose around the table a roar of laughter. It was a great joke. The girl was smart. They all knew Herodias was brilliant, but that her daughter, a mere dancing girl, should be brilliant, too.

They looked at Herod’s face; flushed, worried, distraught. He was cornered, the fox; cornered, and it did them good to see it. As for themselves, they and the other courtiers would be glad enough to be rid of John’s solemn preach- ing, his constant spoilsport attitude, his ringing of the tiresome changes on their vices. It would clear the atmosphere to be rid of the fanatic fool. Bully for the girl! They were all for her.

“But Salome . . .” began Herod, lapsing into what was almost a stutter.

Her eyes never left his face. A courtier nearby cried out through his hysterical laughter, “But you swore to it,

Herod. We heard you.”

“That we did,” they all echoed.

And Herod could only lift his hand in a signal that summoned the executioner, who always stood, grim warning to even favoured guests, behind his throne.

MARTYRDOM

The door of John’s cell opened, and a lantern was flashed in his face. He saw the curved sword cradled in the arm of the man who followed the lantern bearer. He rose quietly to meet martyrdom. Did he even then wonder if from a distance the Man Who once cured with a word a centurion’s servant who was miles away from Him might work a miracle for him, John? Did he wonder even slightly why he was allowed to die?

Clearly not. If this was part of the divine plan, if the kin of that Herod who had slain the infants close in years to the Infant Saviour now slew the man who was nearest to the grown Saviour, John accepted his destiny gladly.

Without protest or struggle John the Baptist died under the sword of the executioner. And the banqueters applauded when Salome seized the platter, danced with it, twirled before the nauseated Herod, and carried the proof of John’s silenced tongue out to the woman whose sins the Precursor had flung into her shameless face.

When Jesus heard the news, His only gesture was to withdraw with His disciples briefly into a desert place. . . . to think gratefully of His friend?. . . . . to pray for the soul of one who surely needed no prayers? . . . to talk with those who had been his friends about the man who had willingly surrendered them to another master?. . . . Who knows?

HIGHEST PRAISE

All we know with certainty is that Jesus spoke of John as He never spoke of any other man living or dead. He praised him with an enthusiasm that was unique. He found no blemish in John. He held him up boldly for those around Himself to follow. He gave him to the Church Universal as the great, shining example of heroism and stalwart courage and a life of penance terminated in a death for truth and honour and decency.

Christ paid John the highest compliment; He placed the Precursor beside Himself, exemplifying the two roads of perfection. The critics constantly taunted Christ with the fact that He and His disciples did not fast as John and his disciples had fasted. Finally, Christ replied in this amazing piece of irony:

“Whereunto then shall I liken the men of this generation?. . . . . . They are like to children sitting in the marketplace, and speaking one to another, and saying: We have piped to you, and you have not danced; we have mourned, and you have not wept.”

It is so easy to see that type of petulant children: They have music, and it does not make them happy; they have sympathetic friends, and they refuse to accept the sympathy. They don’t want to laugh; they don’t want to cry. Nothing pleases them. Of such were Christ’s puerile critics.

Then Christ goes on to place the example of John and Himself side by side.

“For John the Baptist came neither eating bread nor drinking wine; and you say; He hath a devil. The Son of man is come eating and drinking; and you say: Behold a man that is a glutton and a drinker of wine, a friend of publicans and sinners.

“And wisdom is justified by all her children.” Both He and John had given them imitable examples; the example of neither was accepted by the people who might have followed either and been saved.

A WITNESS GALLED

When confronted by the Jews, who accept neither his miracles, His teachings, nor the testimony that He gives of Himself, Christ calls upon the testimony of John. Here was a great man, a good man; and this man had spoken in His favour. Why did they pay no attention to this magnificent leader?

“There is another that beareth witness of Me ; and I know that the witness which he witnesseth of Me is true. You sent to John, and he gave testimony to the truth. . . . . . . He was a burning and a shining light; and you were willing for a time to rejoice in his light.

“But I have a greater testimony than that of John; for the works which the Father hath given me to perfect, the works themselves, which I do, give testimony of Me that the Father hath sent Me.”

His final appeal is to His own works and to the mission that God, His Father, gave Him to fulfill. But He does not hesitate to call upon John for his testimony, too. It was a high and wonderful honour to be made the one to whom Christ Himself appealed for proof of His Messianic office.

TRIBUTE SUPREME

The ultimate tribute which Jesus paid to John the Baptist is the most glowing of any He ever gave to any man.

There is nothing like it in the whole Gospel.

“He began to speak to the multitudes concerning John.

“What went ye out into the desert to see? a reed shaken with the wind?”

Ah, they knew what He meant by that ironic question. The man they had flocked to hear had a strength they had not met again until they met Jesus. John was no broken reed, no willow blown about by the breeze. They had felt the tremendous strength of the man. They had leaned upon him as upon a strong tree that no storm could bend and no blowing wind could ruffle.

“But what went you out to see? a man clothed in soft garments?”

Certainly the implication was clear. As He spoke, the people thought of Herod, who now held John captive. Herod was clothed in soft garments, purple silks, white, dainty linens. The very suggestion that the strong, rugged Baptist might be so clad struck them as ridiculous.

“Behold,” Christ continues, “they that are in costly apparel and live delicately are in the houses of kings.” Yes, indeed . . . in the houses of kings. John was in a cell of a king’s palace.

“But what went you to see? a prophet? Yea, I say to you, and more than a prophet. This is he of whom it is written:

Behold I send my angel before thy face, who shall prepare thy way before thee.

“For I say to you: Amongst those that are born of women there is not a greater prophet than John the Baptist.”

EIIAS HIMSELF

Far in advance of all the great men of the Jewish people Christ listed His friend and ambassador. The Pharisees, who searched the Scripture, to find texts with which to trick Him, taunted Him with the charge that

He could not be the Me ssias, since “Elias, must come first.”

Christ retorted: “Elias indeed shall come and restore all things. But I say to you that Elias is already come, and they knew him not, but have done unto him whatsoever they had a mind.

“Then the disciples understood that he had spoken to them of John the Baptist.”

The spirit of Elias had descended to Elijah. But that same spirit, Christ claimed, was possessed in fullest measure by the man who had prepared His way and made straight His paths.

“Amongst those that are born of women there is not a greater prophet than John the Baptist.” This was simple canonisation by Christ Himself. It was the lifting of a still living man-for when Christ said this, John had not yet been martyred-to a place among the Doctors. The Saviour had laid the seal of His approval on one man beyond all others. History need never doubt the place which John the Baptist held in the esteem of the Saviour.

PUZZLE

Yet again He follows this tremendous compli ment with a puzzling sentence: “Yet he that is the lesser in the kingdom of heaven is greater than he.”

Taken by itself, the text is perplexing. If we remember John as the link that binds the Old Testament with the New Testament, as the man who in his person combines the prophets of the Old Law with the Apostles of the New Law, the statement becomes clearer. He along among all men was the quintessence of the regime and the religion that were passing and the prelude to and Precursor of the regime and the religion that had just begun. In his role in the New Law he was supremely great. The fact that he climaxed the prophets was far less important than the fact that he was prelude to the Messias and the Kingdom of Christ upon earth.

But whatever the exact meaning of the text, Christ and His Church have taken amazing care of John the Baptist throughout the centuries. He is deep in the heart of the Christian liturgy. Churches throughout the world are raised to his honour and called by his name. For centuries more Christian boys were named for him than for any other saint. His feast occurs, not once, but twice during the course of the liturgical year, a name day and a day that commemorates his martyrdom. He stands historically as the man who raised the Jewish character to its highest purely natural heights. Yet he served to establish a pattern by which Christian heroes have lived and Christian apostles have preached and Christian martyrs have died.

TRIUMPHANT STORY

That, briefly, is the story of John the Baptist. It is the story of a man who hated sin and who fought it to death. It is the record of a man who so loved the Saviour that he put all personal considerations in second place to the interests of Christ. It is the account of the generous nobility of a man who asked nothing for himself and gave and gave and gave-only to find at the end apparent failure.

Yet Christ’s praise of him has rung down through the centuries: Men have learned high heroism by simply watching John.

Herod, who slew him, later sat looking at the Saviour of the world; and big eyes, blurred with the lust for a dancing girl and bloodshot with the remembrance of the prophet’s decapitated head, failed to recognise the God Who stood before him. John looked up at a stranger upon the riverbank, and with pure eyes saw in Him the Lamb of God. What higher honour could have been John’s than to be permitted to step aside and see the world’s Saviour move along the paths he had made straight, in the companionship of the disciples he had helped to train, into the glorious kingdom of which he had been the first subject, the thrilling trumpeter, the general who rode at the head of the king’s own advance guard?

Nihil obstat:

F. MOYNIHAN, Censor Deputatus. lmprimatur

@ D. MANNIX,

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis.

********

Saint Joseph

THE VILLAGE TRADESMAN

FATHER CHRISTOPHER, C.P

INDEX

The day of salvation was near at hand; and the world, without knowing it, was preparing itself for the coming of its Saviour. Soldiers and statesmen, intent on empire building, were raising the framework of the Kingdom of God. The empire of Alexander had already passed, leaving to the world the language of the Gospel. Now, Rome was breaking down the barriers that separated the nations and laying the roads which would serve to carry the message of salvation to the ends of the earth. And in the little village of Nazareth, hidden away in a corner of Rome’s vast empire, a man called Joseph was preparing himself for his part in the great scheme of salvation.

Joseph bar-Jacob -to give him the name by which his neighbours knew him-had an ancestry of which he might have been justly proud. Descended from the royal house of David, he could have claimed a place amongst the first in the land. Actually he was just a village tradesman, well satisfied with his humble condition, and probably very glad of the obscurity it afforded. In the Palestine of Herod the Great, royal blood was a dangerous heritage; and the lineal descendants of Israel’s royal family would naturally have been at pains to escape the notice of the usurper who sat so uneasily on his blooddrenched throne. It may well have been their anxiety to forestall Herod’s murderous intentions that prompted Joseph’s family to abandon their ancestral home at Bethlehem for the safely of a secluded village of distant Galilee. However that may be, when the fullness of time had come, Joseph was living with his family in Nazareth, earning his livelihood as a tradesman.

In our translations of the Gospels Joseph is described as a carpenter, but the original texts speak of him simply as a tradesman, without specifying his trade. From what can be known of the Palestine of that period, there does not seem to have been, at least in rural parts, any specialised trade that would correspond to our trade of carpentry. Such simple woodwork as was necessary was done by a tradesman, who was something in the nature of a handyman and was expected to be able to turn his hand to anything for which skill in the use of tools was required. Tradition does, in fact, attribute to Joseph great versatility in craftsmanship.

In the writings of the early Fathers and in the apochryphal gospels, he is presented in a variety of occupations—building houses, fashioning agricultural implements and household furniture, and even forging metals. In all probability Joseph was just what tradition represents him to have been-a village tradesman who was at the same time carpenter, smith, mason and handy man in general. In the plans of God every circumstance has its purpose; and it is not too much to suppose that God so arranged the circumstances of Joseph’s life that everything in it and particularly such an important element as his work, should have its part in preparing and fitting him for his future. The mission that awaited him called for physical strength and endurance as well as an indomitable spirit and a resourceful mind. All these and much more Joseph could easily acquire in the strenuous and exacting life of a village tradesman.

It would be interesting to know some thing of Joseph’s home-life and of those intimate social contacts which must have played such a large part in shaping his character and preparing him for his mission. Unfortunately, the Gospels do not provide any information concerning these matters: but there is reason to suppose that his life at Nazareth was lonely and even unpleasant. Later Christ would have to complain that He was without honour in His own home and amongst His own brethren; and it is not unlikely that Joseph in his time was likewise alighted and misunderstood, and for the same reasons. The people of Nazareth and in particular his Own immediate relatives, as we know them from the Gospel, were not only gross and worldly in their outlook, but overbearing in their treatment of those who did not share their opinions. With such people, this man of God could have had very little in common. Indeed, in all matters which affect social Intercourse, he and his kinsfolk must have been as poles apart and, considering the temper of these people, it is not improbable that his attitude in religious and political affairs may have isolated him socially and even marked him out for that petty, peevish persecution, so prevalent in village life.

Such circumstances would account, at least in part, for what appears to be the distinct ive trait of Joseph’s character- his patient silence. The few glimpses of him, which the Gospels give, show him to have been an utterly selfless man, reticent in manner and sparing in Words. In those episodes of the Gospel in which he had a part, his presence is felt rather than noticed. No spoken word of his is recorded. In times of distress and doubt, as well as on occasions which provoke from others words of rapturous admiration, Joseph remains silent, keeping his own counsel and speaking only to God in prayer. By his silence he kept his soul as he was afterwards to keep from profane publicity the tremendous secrets with which God would entrust him.

This hard and lonely life was Joseph’s preparation for the mission that awaited him. Every circumstance of it had its part in shaping and moulding his character, and in schooling him in those virtues which the exercise of his high office would require. The grace of God had, of course, its own part in this process of formation. Catholic theology has always insisted that, with the exception of Mary, no other creature received so many and such choice graces. But grace is never coercive; and Joseph like others had to do his part in his own sanctification. His virtues had to be acquired by unremitting effort and the prayer of desire. When at last God called him to his appointed task, he was, in the words of the Evangelist, “a just man,” which title, as St. John Chrysostom asserts, implies “the possession of all virtues in a perfect degree.” in other words, Joseph was a saint. It could not have been otherwise. The man to whom God would entrust His most sacred treasures must first have found great favour in His sight. God found in this village tradesman “a man after His own heart,” says St. Bernard, “to whom He could commit His heart’s closest and most sacred secret.”

THE HUSBAND OF MARY

In the village of Nazareth there was another home where Joseph must have been a frequent and welcome visitor. The old couple who lived there-Joachim and Anna-were not only his blood relations, but perhaps of all the people of Nazareth the only ones with whom he had anything in common. Like him, they belonged to “the faithful remnant of Israel,”-the very few whose spiritual outlook and aspirations had not been distorted by the prevailing corruption of Israel’s ancient faith. But there was another reason why this old couple should have taken this lonely young man to their hearts, and why Joseph, on his part, should have felt himself drawn to them by a bond of sympathy. They, too, were lonely and had known the bitterness of social disapprobation. For a long time their home had been childless, and consequently shunned by neighbours who, in common with the Jewish people generally, regarded sterility as a manifestation of God’s anger. At last, it pleased God to take away their reproach and to give them a daughter whom they called Mary. Like her namesake of old, Anna thanked God by giving her child back to Him. According to tradition, when Mary was yet a child, her parents presented her to God to serve Him in the Temple, and then returned to their childless home. Would it be too much to suppose that this lonely couple should have looked to their young kinsman for comfort in their old age, and when their end came, committed their orphaned daughter to his care?

This, of course, is mere conjecture, but easier to accept than the ridiculous stories which the apochrypal writers have created to account for the espousals of Joseph and Mary. Giving free rein to their fancy, they make of it a most elaborate affair, calling for lengthy deliberations and proclamations, and entailing many extravagant miracles. But the Providence of God, to which must be attributed the arrangement of this blessed union, has no need of miracles to accomplish its designs. Without any apparent interference in human affairs, God can use the ordinary circumstances of daily life to give effect to His decrees; and in all probability Joseph and Mary were brought together by what may have seemed to be the coincidence of circumstances.

Being an orphan and the sole successor to the family property, Mary would have been constrained by the Law to marry, and to marry within her family, “lest the possession of the children of Israel be mingled from tribe to tribe.” Only some such necessity could have driven her to entertain the thought of marriage at all, since she had vowed her virginity to God. As she would afterwards make clear, this vow was dearer to her than life, and the thought of abandoning it must have caused her great distress. In her perplexity what more natural than that her thoughts should have turned to Joseph? He was of the same family, as the Law required; but more than that-and this to Mary was of supreme importance-he was of kindred spirit, “walking not according to the flesh, but according to the spirit.” To him Mary could trust her life and her virginity. Her choice would, of course, have had to receive the consent of her guardians, but God, in His inscrutable way, could influence the minds of all concerned to bring together this holy couple whom He had predestined for one another from all eternity. Nevertheless, theirs was not a loveless marriage of convenience. They had known one another for a long time, had shared the secrets of their souls, and loved one another in God. Never before had there been such a union as theirs-a union of pure and Godlike love, untainted by any human passion or material consideration. “Such a holy and perfect union goes far beyond earthly thought; the idea of it could only come from heaven; and, if every marriage reminds us in some degree of the reciprocal love of Christ and His Church, none ever symbolised as theirs that fruitful and virgin union.*

In accordance with the marriage customs of the Jews the engagement would have been solemnised in due time by a ceremonial betrothal which took the form of a contract as binding as our marriage vows. When the young couple had, in the presence of witnesses, exchanged gifts as tokens of fidelity, they became legally husband and wife. Custom prescribed, however, that they should continue to live apart in their respective homes for a period set forth in the contract of betrothal. Thus Joseph and Mary, after their betrothals had been solemnised, would have returned to their homes, Mary to thehumble dwelling where God’s angel would find her, and Joseph to his workshop to prepare a home for his loved one.

It was, perhaps, while busy about this work, lavishing upon it all the skill of his hand and all the love of his heart, that he was suddenly confronted by a situation which would test to the uttermost his faith in God and his trust in Mary. His betrothed had been visiting her aged kinswoman, Elizabeth, who lived in Judea. On her return, Joseph could not but notice in her the first signs ofmotherhood. The Evangelist treats the matter briefly and with great delicacy. “When his mother Mary was espoused to Joseph, before they came together, she was found with child, of the Holy Ghost. Whereupon Joseph her husband, being a just man and not willing to expose her, was minded to put her awayprivately.”

Joseph’s conduct in this painful and perplexing situation manifests the greatness of the man, and deserves careful consideration. The Law required that an unfaithful wife should be publicly exposed and handed over to a criminal court for trial and punishment. The death sentence, prescribed for marital infidelity, was no longer enforced; but even death by stoning would have been a kindness compared with the lifelong shame of public exposure. Had Joseph believed Mary to have been unfaithful, he would have had no option but to let the Law take its course. But, however damning the facts might appear, not for one moment did he doubt her fidelity. Trusting her completely, he did not even ask for an explanation, but at once set about finding a way to observe the prescriptions of the Law without doing harm to her good name. He could have written her a bill of divorce, but such a procedure, besides entailing a certain amount of publicity, would have been a reflection on Mary’s honour, since it would presuppose that “she did not find favour in his sight for some uncleanness.” Consequently he was minded to put her away privately. How this could have been done, the Evangelist does not indicate; but it has been suggested that, to protect Mary against the stigma of shame, Joseph was prepared to sacrifice his happiness and his own good name. “There was but one way of parting with Mary without ruining her; and this was to banish himself, to go and die far off in the land of exile, and to take upon his own head all the odium of such a desertion. . . . . To reconcile together his duty and his humanity, he resolved to tear off with his own hand the crown of his good name to cast it before the feet of that young woman, whose mysterious and inexplicable position filled his heart with sadness, and his life with bitterness.**

That Joseph would have been capable of such sacrifice, did God require it, can not be doubted; but, being a man of prayer, he would first have placed himself in the hands of God and awaited in confidence for some indication of His Holy Will. God could have spared him this agony; but since He permitted it, it was for a purpose.

*De La Broise, “The Blessed Virgin Mary.” (Loud. 1917), p. 74. **Orsini, “Life of the Blessed Virgin Mary,” English trans. by Husenbeth, Dubun, 1886, p. 148. So also, Maldonatus, Comment. in Matth; and Prat, Jesus Christ, Vol. I. p. 72.

It was Joseph’s hour of testing when like Abraham he was called to ascend the mount of sacrifice to prove his faith and love. In that testing, this greatsouled man proved himself worthy to be the guardian of God’s secrets. Even as he put forth his hand to take the sword of sacrifice, God’s angel intervened to make known the Divine Will. “The angel of the Lord appeared to him in sleep, saying: Joseph, Son of David, fear not to take unto thee Mary thy wife, for that which is conceived of her is of the Holy Ghost. And she shall bring forth a son: and thou shalt call his name Jesus. For be shall save his people from their sins.”

With such haste as the situation required, Joseph made arrangements for the solemn celebration of their nuptials. On the appointed evening he went, accompanied by “the friends of the bridegroom,” to escort Mary to her new home where the marriage feast was prepared. Nothing was omitted that custom and convention prescribed; nonetheless he must have been glad when the last guest had gone and he was left alone to contemplate the Mystery which his little home now enshrined.

THE WAY TO BETHLEHEM

As the months passed and the time approached to which this holy couple looked forward with mingled hope and dread, the mind of Joseph must have been troubled by a new and distracting problem. It was common knowledge that the Messiah would be born in Bethlehem. Joseph must have known this prophecy and have been at a loss to understand how in the circumstances it could be fulfilled. Another might have taken it upon himself to ensure its fulfilment, but Joseph was too humble to anticipate the counsels of God. Knowing that what was written would come to pass, he was content to wait and to pray that God’s Will might be done in His own way and in His own good time.

In due time and in a strange manner God did make known His Will. One day in the early winter when the first rains had fallen and the people were busy in the fields, an imperial edict was posted in all the villages and towns of Galilee, announcing a census of the population and of household property, and summoning all who were living outside their tribal territory to return to their ancestral homes for purposes of registration. Joseph’s doubt was solved and his mind set at ease.

He was of the house of David, and Bethlehem was David’s city. To Bethlehem therefore he must go to comply with Caesar’s edict, and that the word of God might be fulfilled.

With his usual promptitude Joseph made his preparations for a journey which he could not have contemplated without much anxiety because of Mary’s delicate condition. With travelling conditions at their best, the journey would expose her to many hardships; but with the winter already set in, and the roads, after the heavy rains, little better than the tracks of mountain streams, it was a journey that would try the endurance of the hardiest traveller. More than a hundred miles of sodden, wind-swept roads, four days of hard travelling in the face of biting winds, and as many nights in cold, comfortless inns with their noisy, rough-spoken crowds-all these lay between Mary and Bethlehem. But when the Will of God was clear, Joseph did not hesitate. Unmindful of himself, and entrusting his dear one to God, he made the best plans he could, leaving nothing undone that could make the journey a little easier for his precious charge. God’s loving care would go before them and His angels accompany them, but for all that the winds would be no less cold, nor the roads one whit smoother. No miraculous intervention would lighten the load of care and responsibility which he must carry every step of the way; nor did he expect it. God had directed him and then left him to his own resources. Every difficulty that lay before them he himself must contend with, and every comfort that Mary will have along the way Joseph must supply.

Tradition has it that Joseph contrived to lessen the hardships of the journey for his young wife by providing her with a donkey; and indeed, some such mode of conveyance would have been indispensable in the circumstances. But he himself would have had to walk all the weary way, watching the while with anxious eye lest the coming of night or a sudden storm might find them far from shelter. After four, and perhaps five, such days upon the road, he must have been glad when he had breasted the last hill and saw over against him the little town of Bethlehem, set like a gem on the fringe of the wilderness, beckoning them with a welcome that was to prove so false.

Like every town of its size, Bethlehem had its inn which consisted of a courtyard, surrounded by a high wall along which were erected shelters where travellers might spread their rugs and sleep. For the convenience of those who required privacy, as well as shelter and were willing to pay for it, there were generally a few closed compartments at the disposal of the innkeeper. Now that Mary’s time was near at hand and it was necessary to shield her from profane eyes, Joseph no doubt intended to hire one of these compartments; but the census had brought many travellers to Bethlehem, and when he arrived he found that the inn was crowded and all the private apartments already occupied. They would no doubt have received a welcome and a shelter in any of the homes of Bethlehem; but these would have been already overcrowded and in any case could not have provided the privacy which Joseph would have desired for the Sacred Mystery about to be accomplished. Being no stranger to Bethlehem, his thoughts would have turned at once to the caves which were to be found in abundance in the hillsides near the town. Generally they were used by the shepherds of the district to shelter their flocks, but not infrequently they did duty as temporary dwellings. To one of these Joseph brought his young wife in the gathering dusk of a December evening. According to tradition, it was a stable, and the Holy One that was born there that blessed night was cradled in its straw-lined manger.

Joseph’s name has no place in the Gospel’s chastely beautiful narrative of the Nativity. He was there, hiding humbly in the shadows of the cave, then as always silent. Even in that great moment when he looked for the first time on His Incarnate God, he uttered no word, adoring in silence the Word made Flesh. Later that night the shepherds came, sent by the angels to adore the new-born Saviour. Did Joseph take their coming as a sign from heaven, approving his choice of a shepherd’s shelter as the birth-place of the Lamb of God?

THE WAY TO JERUSALEM

Reading between the lines of the Gospel narratives, it may be gathered that Joseph intended to leave Nazareth and settle down in his ancestral home. Now there was still another reason to set his heart on making his home at Bethlehem. It had become for him a sanctuary, consecrated by a Sacred Mystery. Probably he had property there, and it would not have taken him long to build and furnish such a simple home as he required. But meantime there were other matters of importance to claim his attention.

The Law required that every Jewish man-child, on the eighth day of birth, should be incorporated in the religious society of Israel by the ceremony of circumcision. In this instance, such a ceremony might have been deemed unnecessary and even irreverent; but Joseph, directed no doubt by the Holy Ghost, decided that the Divine Infant should be submitted to the yoke of the Law. It was on this occasion that Mary’s husband, exercising for the first time his authority as a father, gave to the Holy One of God the name by which He should be known to men. “Thou shalt call his name Jesus, for he shall save his people from their sins.” Even as he uttered that sweet Name for the first time, Joseph saw its meaning traced in the Saviour’s blood.

Before another month had passed, Joseph had again occasion to exercise his paternal rights. The Law prescribed that the first-born male child of every mother should be offered to God in the Temple and redeemed by the payment of a ransom to the Temple treasury, and that at the same time the mother should be purified from the defilement symbolically attaching to childbirth. Mary had no need of such purification, and her Divine Child was above the Law; but Joseph, again interpreting correctly the mind of God, decided that in this as in all things they must submit to the Law, not out of necessity but for obedience sake.

On the appointed day they were early on the road to Jerusalem, and the watchman was still standing on the pinnacle of the Temple waiting to signal the first light of day, when they passed into the city through the Jaffa Gate and up through the still deserted streets to the Temple Mount. With a few others they stood and waited until the triple blast of the silver trumpets announced the coming of another day, and the massive Temple Gates swung slowly on their hinges, to admit “the worshippers of the morning.” in the Temple Courts white-robed priests hurried here and there, busy with the preparations for the morning sacrifice. No one heeded Mary as she made her way to the Court of the Women and took her place by the Nicanor Gate on the highest of the fifteen steps which led to the Court of Israel. There, with other young mothers, she stood in prayer while the morning sacrifice was offered and the incense kindled on the golden altar in the Holy Place. Then with the others she made her offering-a pair of pigeons, the offering of the poor- and followed with reverent attention the sacrificial ritual. Meantime Joseph, carrying the Divine Infant, had entered the Court of Israel and there presented Him to God. It must have been a great moment for this simple tradesman when with five pieces of silver, earned by the labour of his hands, he ransomed the Life which God had appointed as the ransom of the world.

Such ceremonies were part of the daily routine of the Temple, calling for little notice; but God would not allow this occasion to pass without Indicating the significance of the offering which Joseph had made. Leaving the Temple, they were saluted and addressed by an old man whose lined and shrivelled face shone with the light of another world. Long had this man, Simeon, waited for this day, which God had promised that he should see. Now that it has come and he holds in his trembling arms the Desired of the Ages, his heart overflows in a prayer of thanksgiving, while his spirit soars aloft on the wings of prophecy to the eternal hills, there to watch the light of salvation break across the world. His canticle finished, the old man pauses and looks at Mary. Being a man, he would have gladly finished; but he is a prophet and must speak all that he has been given to see. He must tell this young mother of the sufferings that await her Child, and of the sword of sorrows that will pierce her own soul. With the old man’s words resting heavily on their hearts, they left the Temple and returned to their home.

THE WAY TO EGYPT

It was not long until the sword of sorrow began to pierce their hearts. Soon their Child would become “a sign of con- tradiction,” drawing upon them Herod’s murderous hate. Late one evening, when the first stars had appeared and the people of Bethlehem were already gathered in their homes, a strange caravan came up the road from Jerusalem, their camels moving swiftly through the star-lit night. Though they appeared to have come great distances, and wore the dress of far-off lands, the men of the caravan showed none of the hesitancy of strangers. Without an inquiry, they went at once to the home of Joseph and Mary. “And entering in, they found the child with Mary his mother, and falling down they adored him; and opening their treasures, they offered him gifts, gold, frankincense and myrrh.” The visit of the Magi, it may be presumed, did not end with these formal ceremonies, Before they took their leave, they would have spoken of their long journey and their guiding star, of their interview with Herod and his anxiety to discover the newly-born King of the Jews. They could hardly have realised how this news would alarm Joseph. Only too well did Joseph know that when Herod came it would be to destroy, not to adore. But whatever his suspicions may have been, he kept them to himself. It was his way to cast his care upon the Lard; and this was a danger which only the Lord could foresee and avert. The Wise Men went and Joseph, having placed himself in the hands of God, slept. He knew how to make of his sleep a prayer of trust, and now, as always, it was in sleep that he received God’s directions. “And after they were departed, behold an angel of the Lord appeared in sleep to Joseph, saying: Arise, take the child and his mother and fly into Egypt: and be there until I shall tell thee. For it will come to pass that Herod will seek the child to destroy him.”

It must have been with a heavy heart that Joseph rose up in the night to obey this command. Once more he must take to the road-this time as a hunted man- to seek a new home in a distant and unfriendly land. But the urgency of the situation left little time for thought. Hastily packing the few provisions that were at hand, the fugitives left Bethlehem under cover of the night, and before daybreak were well on the way to Egypt.

The easiest, If not the shortest way to Egypt would have been the great coast road, which was a busy caravan route with inns at every stage where food and shelter could be obtained. The fugitives, however, would naturally avoid a highway so much frequented and doubtless kept under close observation by Herod’s spies. Most probably, they would have taken the Way of the Wilderness which has been in every period of Jewish history the way of fugitives seeking sanctuary in Egypt. Travelling mostly by night, and making wide detours to avoid villages, it would have taken them the best part of a week to reach the River of Egypt which marked the limits of Herod’s jurisdiction. From this point, the journey would have been more leisurely but still trying, for they had many weary miles of trackless desert yet to cross before reaching a place where they could make a home.

Where in Egypt Joseph made his home, or how long he remained there, cannot be decided with certainty. Some time after the visit of the Magi, Herod sickened for his lingering and horrible death; and Joseph could not have been much more than two years in exile when an angel came to tell him that the tyrant was no more. It was welcome news for the lonely exiles: no less welcome the angel’s command that he should “take the child and his mother and go into the land of Israel.”

This time, this man of many journeys can take the road with a light heart and easy mind. But as he approached Palestine and heard from fellow travellers how matters stood in Judea, his ease of mind gave place to new anxiety. The universal relief at Herod’s death was short-lived. Archelaus, his son and successor, had contrived to out-herod Herod. The province of Judea was seething with discontent, and already one rebellion had ended in wholesale massacre. The angel gave no definite directions; and Joseph, it would seem, had intended to return to Bethlehem; but now he must have had his misgivings. Past experience had given him reason to hope for a divine direction; nor was he disappointed. While sleeping trustfully in the Lord, his angel came to him, directing him to Nazareth. “And being warned in a dream, he withdrew into the district of Galilee. And he came and dwelt in the town called Nazareth.”

THE WAY OF AUTHORITY

With their return to Nazareth the Holy Family withdrew into a world of mystery which has provoked and baffled many attempts to discover its secrets. It seems as If it were God’s wish that men should respect the privacy of that holy home, and be content with the little which He has been pleased to reveal. Only one episode of these hidden years has been recorded in the Gospels; but it is sufficient to give us an understanding of the relations which existed between the Persons of this earthly Trinity.

On the occasion of a Passover pilgrimage to Jerusalem, the Boy Jesus remained behind in the city when the caravan set out on its homeward journey. Only at the end of the first day did His parents discover their loss. As soon as it was possible, they returned to Jerusalem, seeking Him along the way and through the city.

On the third day they found Him in the Temple in deep discussion with the Doctors of the Law. When they discovered Him, Joseph was as usual silent, but Mary takes it upon herself to request an explanation: “Son, why hast thou done so to us? Behold thy father and I have sought thee sorrowing.”

The whole incident is very revealing. It will be noticed that Mary gives Joseph the first place, and calls him the “father” of Jesus. An over-scrupulous regard for theological exactitude has denied this title to Joseph; but no such scruple prevailed in the holy home at Nazareth. There he was given not only the title, but all the reverence and submission due to him as head of the family. It is all deep mystery how this humble man could have brought himself to exercise authority over the Holy One of God; but since such was God’s Will, he would have done so without hesitation, and with a dignity befitting his exalted position. God committed His Divine Son unreservedly to his care, intervening only in circumstances which were beyond human control, but even then respecting Joseph’s paternal rights. To him the angel would carry all God’s instructions for the safe keeping of the Divine Child. In other matters of importance, Joseph, it may be presumed, was directed by the Holy Ghost, but in such a way as not to interfere with the free exercise of his authority. In the holy home, as in every home, there had to be a regulated system, and it was Joseph who regulated, appointed tasks and times, made decisions and issued orders.

In a soul so well disposed as was that of Joseph those years at Nazareth must have wrought wonders of holiness. What a privilege was his! to have always before his eyes “the mystery of Godliness, manifested in the flesh.” From the Incident of the Three Days’ Loss it may be gathered that the Divine Child submitted to all the limitations of human nature, even to those peculiar to childhood. This consideration is here important inasmuch as it enables us to visualise the world of wonders in which Joseph was privileged to dwell. Watching the Divine Infant make His first stumbling efforts to walk, hearing Him try to lisp His first words, seeing His first attempts to use the tools of His trade; these must have been for Joseph moments that raised his soul to the heights of contemplation. But for him, as for all, the swift years passed, and the time came when this journeyman of God must prepare for his last journey.

THE WAY OF ALL FLESH

Joseph was far from being an old man when death came for him. According to the apochryphal writers, he had been many years a centenarian, but that is altogether improbable. Everything considered, it must be supposed that he was still a young man at the time of his marriage so that he could not have been sixty at the time of his death which, it would seem, preceded Christ’s Public Ministry by a number of years. Hardship and anxiety doubtless took their toll of his years, but in all probability his departure from this life was hastened to facilitate the designs of God.

Although there is no information concerning the manner of his passing, Christian tradition has always looked to the deathbed of Joseph as the pattern of the truly happy death. To die in the very arms of Jesus, under the eyes of Mary- such a death could have no terrors. Yet, for him as for all, death was a penalty, and Joseph’s death had its own peculiar pain. He could not, as did St. Paul, count death as gain, hoping to meet Jesus beyond. Death took him from the arms of Jesus, from Mary’s side, to place him among the exiled souls who waited in the other world for the coming of the Saviour. Not for long would he have to wait, but every day of those years of exile would be for him as a thousand years. It had never been his way to consider himself. He had lived to serve, and in dying he continued to serve. It was expedient that he should be no more when Christ manifested Himself to the world. That Christ might Increase, he must decrease; and now, as always, he is prepared and glad to do the Will of God receiving even in death a foretaste of that joy of the Lord which is the reward of the Good and faithful Servant.

THE PROTECTOR OF THE CHURCH

Bossuet, who spoke so well and tenderly of St. Joseph, was of the opinion that he had a part, passive but none the less real, in the accomplishment of the Mystery of the Incarnation. “it is the virginity of Mary,” he wrote, “that brought Jesus down from heaven, . . . and if it was her purity that made her fruitful. I do not hesitate to affirm that Joseph had his part in this great miracle. This Angelic purity was Mary’s possession, but it was given in trust to the just man, Joseph.” Having due regard to the fitness of things, theologians conclude that God has given Joseph his part in bringing that Mystery to its final fruition. That part is nothing else than the continuation and completion of the mission which he performed so perfectly while on earth. As long ago in Bethlehem and Nazareth he kept careful watch over the Infant Saviour and ministered so faithfully to His needs, he now watches over and protects with all a father’s loving care Christ’s Mystical Body, the Church.

It was always characteristic of Joseph to keep himself in the background. Only when needed did he come forward; and then, having done his duty silently and thoroughly, he went back to his place in the shadows to await the next call from God. This same trait has characterised his part in the life of the Church. For many centuries his heavenly mission remained unnoticed, except by a few chosen souls whose intimacy with Jesus and Mary discovered to them the silent but watchful protector of Christ’s brethren and Mary’s children. It has been suggested that this long and strange eclipse of Joseph’s glory was an arrangement of Providence to prevent possible misunderstanding of Mary’s Divine Maternity. That may be; but it is also possible that his mission, being essentially protective, was not recognised until needed. It was not until the darkdays which followed Luther’s attempt to separate Jesus and Mary that the faithful generally turned to Joseph; and it was in another time of distress when the Church was beset by dangers, that St. Joseph was officially proclaimed by Plus IX Patron and Protector of the Universal Church.

THE GLORY OF FAMILY LIFE

The Eternal Father could have provided the Infant Saviour with more than twelve legions of angels for His protection: instead, He was content to entrust His helplessness to the shelter of a poor man’s home. This divine arrangement had its prophetic significance. The regeneration of humanity, which was begun in the Holy Home at Nazareth, would be continued and completed in other homes where Christ would continue to live His life of love and holiness. Every truly Christian home is another Nazareth where Jesus mystically lives and grows in the souls of those who are gathered there in His Name: and those who keep those homes share with St. Joseph the privilege of fostering and guarding Christ’s Mystical Life. It is a grand privilege, but carries with it great responsibilities. In these days, when there are so many Herods seeking “the child to destroy him,” Catholic parents must look for example, inspiration and help to this great Saint whom the Church invokes as “the Pillar of Families” and “the Glory of Family Life.”

Nihil Obstat:

W. M. COLLINS,

Censor Dioc.

Imprimatur:

@ D. MANNIX,

Archiepiscopus, Me1bournensis.

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Saint Joseph Cafasso

INDEX

HE WAS BORN ON THE 15TH OF JANUARY, 1811 AT CASTELNUOVO D’ASTI, NOW CASTELNUOVO DON BOSCO, IN THE PROVINCE OF PIEDMONT ABOUT TWENTY MILES FROM TURIN. HE HAD AS CONTEMPORARIES TWO OTHER SAINTS WHO, LIKE HIM, EXERCISED THEIR APOSTOLATE IN THE CITY OF TURIN: ST. JOSEPH COTELENGO, WHO WAS TWENTY-FIVE YEARS HIS SENIOR, AND ST. JOHN BOSCO, WHO WAS ONLY A LITTLE MORE THAN THREE YEARS HIS JUNIOR. ST. JOSEPH COTELENGO WAS THE FOUNDER OF THE FAMOUS HOSPITAL AT TURIN, WHICH HAS NOW TEN THOUSAND PATIENTS AND HAS EXISTED FOR OVER A CENTURY, WITHOUT BANK ACCOUNT OR FUNDS, DEPENDING ON DIVINE PROVIDENCE ALONE.

Joseph Cafasso was the third child of a family of four. His parents, who were remarkable for their charity to the poor, were small farmers who had to supplement their scanty income by working on neighboring farms. Joseph was a Saint from his infancy; his sanctity was the result of victories gained over himself and it increased with his years. Even in his childhood he had certain days set apart for mortification, and he fasted every Saturday in honor of Our Blessed Lady. From childhood he attended daily Mass which he served with joy when permitted, and was a model of devotion. He was gifted with a keen intellect and a good memory, and was first in his class at school. He never lost a moment, he even took a short cut to the school and studied his lessons on the way. He appeared to be aware that his life was to be a short one, and that it would not be long enough for the work for God he hoped to accomplish. By his strong character based on humility, and his determination never to offend God, no matter what humiliation it might cost him, he gained an ascendancy over the other pupils and even over people older than himself.

As soon as he came to the age of reason, his mother accustomed him to give alms to the poor, which he gladly did, and even added the best of his own meals to what his mother gave him. When scarcely ten, he began his spiritual apostolate. He loved to teach catechism to the poor children of the district, and on Sunday evenings he would gather the neighbors and, standing on a chair because he was of small stature, he would repeat for them the sermon he had heard that morning in church.

Seeing such evident signs of a vocation, his parents decided to educate him for the priesthood. They sent him to a school in the neighboring town of Chieri, where he studied Latin and afterwards Philosophy. As there was no vacancy in the major seminary of Turin, he began the study of Theology under the Pastor of his native parish, and completed it at Chieri, when a major Seminary was opened there.

He was a model student, humble and always ready to help other students. His companions gave him the name of “the new Aloysius” on account of his modesty, gentleness and angelic disposition.

He was Ordained a priest in 1833 at the age of twenty-two, having gotten a dispensation for defect of age. After Ordination, he went to Turin to attend one of the post-graduate courses there. There were three such courses in Turin at the time. Having attended the lectures of the three in succession, he selected the one presided over by a very learned and virtuous priest named Don Guala. The course consisted of moral and dogmatic theology, Sacred Scripture, Patrology, Liturgy and Sacred Eloquence. He was easily the first among the young priests who attended the course, and when his three years’ studies were completed he was selected by Don Guala as assistant professor. He was a brilliant lecturer. His fame soon spread over all Piedmont and even beyond it, and attracted students not only from Turin but from the surrounding dioceses. He aimed at making the young priests not only learned in theology but saintly men and efficient ministers of the Gospel.

Jansenism was rampant at the time. A large number of the clergy were tainted with it; they held rigorous views and deterred people from approaching the Sacraments, but their lives were far from virtuous. Don Cafasso was the apostle of hope and confidence and advocated frequent and even daily Communion. By correct explanation of the principles of Moral Theology, by preaching the mercy of God in season and out of season and by training the young priests to work with him in the prisons among men considered by the Jansenists as unworthy of the Sacraments, he fortified them against the errors of that pernicious heresy.

When Don Guala, the Rector of the Institute, became old and infirm, Don Cafasso took charge and was appointed as his successor when he died.

There was a church dedicated to St. Francis of Assisi attached to the College, of which the Rector was Pastor. Don Cafasso had charge of the Church and spent long hours each day, usually from 7 A.M. till 9:30 or even 11 am., hearing Confessions in it. His fame for learning and sanctity attracted great numbers of penitents there. He gave preference to working men and after them to servant girls, and if there was not time to hear the wealthy and the titled folk before his classes began, he asked them to return.

Besides performing all his duties as Professor and Pastor, never missing a class or being a minute late, he found time for other forms of apostolate in Turin, the chief of which were teaching catechism to poor children, visiting the sick and the various prisons of the city, and giving missions and retreats.

DON CAFASSO AND DON BOSCO

Though Don Cafasso and Don Bosco were neighbors, they did not become acquainted till Don Cafasso had become a clerical student and was already sixteen years old. Don Bosco was then but a boy who loved games and fun, and Don Cafasso had already acquired the wisdom of a man of experience. He became Don Bosco’s adviser, helped him in his difficulties, and when he was ordained Don Cafasso received him into the College of which he was now professor. Don Cafasso was accustomed to bring some of the young priests with him to help in teaching catechism; having found Don Bosco by far the most suited for this work, he advised him to devote himself to it when his three years course was finished. He procured a house for him, and when he was driven out of it on account of the noise the boys made, Don Cafasso got another for him and supplied him with funds for the work. He continued to help him and advise him until the time of his death, and Don Bosco, though only a few years younger than he, would do nothing without consulting him.

HIS WORK AMONG THE POOR

He sought out the poor in their homes and trained the young priests under his charge to visit them and help them. He never refused an alms. He gave away all that he owned himself, and generous people, knowing his great charity, gave him large sums of money, being persuaded that it was the best way to help the poor. He was particularly kind to those who, as the result of some calamity, had fallen into poverty. He did not, however, allow himself to be imposed on, and when he had prudent reason for suspicion, he sent a servant to visit the houses of people who appealed for help, to see what they had for meals. The servant often found that some of the people who said that they were in want had well-supplied tables.

VISITING THE PRISONERS

The prisons in Don Cafasso’s time were gloomy places infested with vermin. There was much communication between the prisoners, and the wicked had the greatest influence. It was among these outcasts of society that Don Cafasso spent most of his free time. He visited each prison at least once a week, and some of them once a day, and spent long hours there, usually four or five hours at a time. He returned home each night bringing with him on his person, the vermin of the prison, which he jocularly called “living silver and moving riches.”

He prepared the way for his spiritual ministrations by corporal benefits, but when actually hearing Confession he never gave anything, even a medal. His distributed various kinds of gifts among the prisoners: tobacco, money, fruit, clothes, religious objects.

He instructed the prisoners in the truths of religion, and not being in any hurry to leave, he did that work thoroughly. He prepared them for the Sacraments and heard their Confessions. There is no case on record in which he failed to convert even the hardened sinners among them. He brought some of the young priests under him to visit the prisons and made it part of their training to help the poor and needy and visit those in prison. He helped to get employment for those among the prisoners who from time to time were liberated.

THOSE CONDEMNED TO DEATH

Don Cafasso singled out for special kindness criminals condemned to death. He visited all these frequently, instructed them and prepared them for death. He accompanied them all to the scaffold-fifty seven from Turin prisons and seven others from other towns. He succeeded in getting all these to go to the Sacraments. He was not satisfied with merely converting them but endeavored to make them Saints. He exhorted them to accept capital punishment with resignation and told them that if they did so with perfect dispositions, they were in a state to go directly to Heaven without passing through Purgatory, for by dying a violent and dishonorable death they were performing the heaviest penance that could be imposed on anyone in this world. He even gave them a commission for him to execute when they went to Heaven, which was to kneel before the throne of Mary and intercede for him.

ADVISER TO BISHOPS AND PRIESTS

People of all classes not only from Turin but from distant places came to him for advice: bishops, priests, lawyers, titled folk, simple people and even non-Catholics. He solved difficult cases of conscience with marvelous facility. He was a very learned man and was hardly equaled by anyone of his time for practical knowledge of Moral Theology, but then, he was a Saint and got special light in prayer. He was never known to give a wrong solution or wrong advice.

DON CAFASSO AS A PREACHER

During the twenty-four years that he spent at the College of St. Francis, he was Professor of Sacred Eloquence as well as of Moral Theology. His knowledge of the art of preaching was not acquired by merely reading books but from life-long practice which began when he was a boy. He became one of the most effective preachers not only of his own time but in the history of the Church. He was both learned and eloquent, and had a beautiful delivery. However, he trusted in none of these things, but rather in prayer and penance. In each sermon he made it his aim that not one person would leave the Church without being converted. He preached every Sunday at the Church of St. Francis and he frequently gave retreats to both clergy and laity. His favorite place for giving retreats was at the Sanctuary of St. Ignatius where there was a church and residence on a mountain 2,800 ft. high. It was there that the Conferences were first delivered. The Conferences which he gave on these occasions were always written and his manuscripts are still preserved. There are about sixty sermons in all, including those to the laity, covering about 1060 pages. These were published in Italy and have gone through several editions.

HIS SAINTLY LIFE

Don Cafasso was truly a man of God, a holy priest. All his words and acts breathed forth the delicious odor of celestial virtue. Some saw in him a resemblance to St. Philip Neri on account of his humility, others to St. Alphonsus Liguori for his learning, others to St. Vincent de Paul for his devotion to the poor and those in prison, others to St. Aloysius Gonzaga for the innocence and purity of his life, others to St. Francis de Sales for his burning love for God and his gentleness of manner, others to the Cure of Ars for the austerity of his life and his work in the Confessional.

HIS AUSTERITIES

In the matter of food, he mortified himself from his very infancy. One would imagine that he had no sense of taste for he preferred unsavory to tasty food. He fasted every Saturday even as a child, and from the time of his Ordination, every day was for him a fast day. For breakfast he took only a little bread without coffee or milk; for mid-day meal he took a plate of soup and a little bread but no fruit or sweets of any kind. When he became Rector, he began by waiting until dinner was nearly finished before he came; after some time, he did not come until dinner was over, and then he took a little bread and wine as he passed through the Refectory on his way to visit in the College Chapel.

He was a man of prayer; the views that he expresses in his Conference on Prayer were exemplified in his life. In spite of his many duties, he was able to find long hours for prayer. The secret of how he was able to do the work of several men and to do it well, and at the same time to find long hours for prayer lay in the fact that he spent little time eating, and little time sleeping. He was always last in the Church each night and was first up in the morning. After a long preparation, he began his Mass each morning at 4:30 A.M. He spent no time idly. He had taken two vows: one to do what was most perfect, the second to waste no time. St. John Bosco stated in his panegyric that in the thirty years that he had known him, he had never known him to waste time. Besides his fasting he practiced other rigorous austerities; he used instruments of penance: the hair-shirt, chains, the discipline. His undergarment was found each week by the woman who washed it to be stained with blood. Whenever a criminal was to be executed he watched the whole night before the Blessed Sacrament and often scourged himself to blood.

HIS DEVOTIONS

His great devotions were: to the Passion, to the Sacred Heart, to the Mass, to the Stations of the Cross, to the Blessed Sacrament, to our Blessed Lady, to St. Joseph, to many of the Saints, to the Souls in Purgatory in whose favor he recommended the Heroic Act.

HIS HOLY DEATH

When he was completing his forty-ninth year his health was still good, and to judge by appearances one would say that he had many years still to live. He himself was aware that such was not the case. St. John Bosco was convinced that the day and the hour of his death had been revealed to him, and in his panegyric of him gives several reasons for this belief.

Judged by the amount of work he had accomplished, and the small amount of time he spent at meals and in bed he had lived a very long life. “For venerable old age is not that of a long time, nor counted by the number of years. A spotless life is venerable old age. Being made perfect in a short time, he fulfilled a long time.”

He made his preparation for death on the first Sunday of the month and devoted the whole day to it. He made his Confession as if it were to be his last, received Holy Communion at Mass as Viaticum, and received Extreme Unction in spirit as if he were a dying man. He recited the prayers for the dying and kissed the Crucifix as if it were the moment of expiring, and then imagined that Our Lady obtained for him another month to prepare for death.

His last illness began on the 9th June as he was hearing Confessions. He was obliged to go to bed and, on the third day of his illness, finding that he had still a little strength left, he got up and spent a few hours in the Confessional until he became quite exhausted. He had great devotion to Our Blessed Lady and it was his constant prayer that he should die on a day dedicated by the Church to her. His prayer was granted, for he died on a Saturday, a day consecrated by the Church to Our Lady. It was a Saturday within the Octave of the Feast of Mary Consolatrix, and was on the vigil of St. John, who is the principal patron of pious works of mercy for those condemned to death, to whose benefit he had devoted so much care. St. John Bosco believes that Our Lady appeared to him at the moment of death and conducted him to Heaven.

CONCLUSION

St. Joseph Cafasso died on 23rd June, 1860 at Turin, Italy of pneumonia, a stomach haemorrhage, and complications of his congenital medical problems; his will bequeathed everything to aid the ministry of Saint Joseph Benedict Cottolengo; Saint John Bosco preached the funeral Mass homily. He was canonized in 1947 by Pope Pius XII.

ST. JOSEPH CAFASSO, PRAY FOR US

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Saint Joseph Calasanctius

INDEX

CONF., FOUNDER OF THE PIARISTS A.D. . 1648

JOSEPH CALASANCTIUS, called in religion “ of the Mother of God “ and one of the foremost figures in the educational activities of the Counter-reformation, was the youngest of five children borne by Donna Maria Gastonia to her husband Don Pedro Calasanza. He was born in his father’s castle near Petralta de la Sal in Aragon in the year 1556 and in due course was sent to study the humanities at Estadilla, where his fellow-students regarded his virtue and religious observances with considerable disrespect. He refused to be moved by their mischievousness and ridicule, and being no less fervent in his studies he completed his course of rhetoric with distinction at the age of fifteen. He then returned home, and his father wanted him to be a soldier and start on that career at once; but Joseph had other ideas and induced Don Pedro instead to send him to the University of Lerida, where he took his doctorate in law before going on to Valencia. It is said that he left this university in order to escape the attentions of a young kinswoman, who subjected him to a temptation similar to that undergone by his namesake many centuries before at the court of Pharaoh; certainly he continued his theology at Alca1a, and there met Ascanio Colonna, who as a cardinal and viceroy of Aragon befriended him in after years. In 1579Joseph’s only brother died childless and Don Pedro naturally wished his surviving son to marry and perpetuate the family in the male line. Joseph temporized, for he had not only determined to be a priest but had already taken a private vow of celibacy, and, after graduating, accepted an invitation from Mgr. Gaspar della Figuera, Bishop of Jacca, to be his socius. After a year his father required him to return home and renewed his entreaties that Joseph should follow a secular career; these entreaties were checked by a sudden illness which brought the young man near to death, and Don Pedro was so frightened of losing him altogether that no further objections were raised to Joseph’s vocation. In 1583 he was ordained priest by the Bishop of Urgel, being already twenty-eight years old, and was at once recalled to the service of Mgr. Figuera, now bishop of Albarracin. He was made the bishop’s confessor and theologian, and synodal examiner and procurator of the diocese, and when shortly afterwards Mgr. Figuera was translated to the see of Lerida, Don Joseph accompanied him. Already the fame of his wisdom, learning, and goodness was spread abroad; he was consulted by Father Aguilar about the reform of the Spanish Augustinian friars, and assisted his bishop in an apostolic visitation of the great monastery of Montserrat, which was disordered by internal disputes. During the course of this work Mgr. Figuera died and, when the charge had been handed over to the Bishop of Vich, Joseph resigned his own position in order to go to Calasanza, where his father also was nearing his end. After Don Pedro’s death Joseph remained at home for a time administering the estate and helping its dependents until he was appointed by the Bishop of Urgel vicar general of the district of Trempe. He was so successful here that he was sent to deal with the Pyrenean part of the diocese, which comprises the valleys of Andorra of which the Bishop of Urgel was joint sovereign prince (he still holds the title) as well as ordinary. This lonely and inaccessible region was in a terrible state of religious and moral disorder, and St Joseph conducted a long and arduous visitation of which the first task was to bring the clergy to a sense of their responsibilities and obligations; on its completion he returned to Trempe and remained there until he was made vicar general of the whole diocese. But for some time he had been listening to an interior call to undertake a quite different sort of work; at length he resigned his office and benefices, divided the Calasanza patrimony between his sisters and the poor, reserving a sufficient income for himself, endowed several charitable institutions, and in 1592 left Spain for Rome.

Here Joseph met his friend of Alcalá, Ascanio Colonna, already a cardinal, and for five years he was under the direct patronage of the Colonnas. He was theologian to the aged and venerable Cardinal Marcantonio Colonna, tutor to his little nephew, Prince Filippo, and spiritual director of the whole family, to which he gave a conference every week in the church of the Apostles. During the plague of 1595 he distinguished himself by his devotion and fearlessness, and entered into a holy rivalry with his friend St Camillus of Lellis as to who should expend himself the more freely in the service of the sick and dying. He was one of the first to welcome to Rome some friars of the new Carmelite reform of St Teresa and St John-of-the-Cross, influenced Cardinal Marcantonio in their favour, and helped to obtain for them the church of our Lady della Scala in the Trastevere. But during these years St Joseph never lost sight of the work which had drawn him to Rome, namely, the instruction of young children, of whom there were many, neglected or homeless, in the most urgent need of interest and care. He had become a member of the Con-fraternity of Christian Doctrine, whose business it was to teach the Faith to both children and adults on Sundays and feast-days, and in so doing was brought home vividly to St Joseph the state of degradation and ignorance in which so many of the children of the poor lived. He was soon convinced that periodical instruction was utterly inadequate to cope with the situation, and that free day-schools for both religious and secular education were required. He therefore first of all invited the official parish-schoolmasters to admit poor pupils to their schools without payment, but they would not undertake the extra work without a rise in salary, and this the Roman senate refused to grant. He then approached the Jesuits and the Dominicans, but neither order could see a way to extending its activities, for their members were already fully engaged. St Joseph then came to the conclusion that it was God’s will that he should begin the work himself, single- handed if necessary. Don Antonio Brendani, parish-priest of Santa Dorotea, offered him the use of two rooms and his own services, two more priests joined them, and in November 1597 the public free school was opened.

At the end of a week the school had a hundred pupils and before long many more, and the founder had to engage paid teachers from among the unbeneficed clergy of the city. In 1599 it was moved into new quarters and St Joseph obtained permission from Cardinal Ascanio to leave the Colonna household and take up his residence on the school premises with the other masters; they lived a quasi-community life and the founder acted as superior, with the title of Prefect of the Religious Schools. During the following couple of years the pupils increased to seven hundred, and in 1602 another move was made, to a large house adjoining the church of Sant’ Andrea della Valle. While hanging a bell in the courtyard St Joseph fell from a ladder and broke his leg in two places, an accident the effects of which were a source of lameness and pain for the rest of his life; but while he was in bed he had the consolation and encouragement of receiving three valuable recruits for the school in the persons of Dr. Tomasso Vittoria, Canon Gellio Ghellini, and Gaspar Dragonetti. The last named was ninety-five years old, but had still many years of vigorous work before him, and was 120 when he died in 1628. Pope Clement VIII having made a grant of 200 scudi a year towards the rent and people of consequence having begun to send their children to the school, the parish-schoolmasters and others began to criticize it with some vehemence; complaints of its disorders were made to the Pope and he directed Cardinals Antoniani and Baronius to pay it a surprise visit of inspection. This was done and as a result of their report Clement took the institution under his immediate protection. In similar circumstances the same course was taken and the grant doubled in 1606 by Paul V, who also appointed Ludovico de Torres, Archbishop of Monreale, as cardinal protector; but these difficulties were the beginning of trials and persecutions which beset St Joseph until the end of his life. Nevertheless during the succeeding five years the work prospered and grew in spite of all opposition, and in 1611 a palazzo was purchased to house it near the church of San Pantaleone; there were about a thousand pupils, including a number of Jews whom the founder himself invited to attend and encouraged by his kindness.

Two years later, with the permission of the Holy See, St Joseph united his informal congregation to the recognized institute of the Clerks Regular of the Mother of God, founded by Bd. John Leonardi in 1574, but this arrangement did not work well. By the beginning of 1617 the Roman schools were in a state of decline, and Joseph was hastily recalled from Frascati where he had been inaugurating a new school. He laid the matter before the Pope, and Paul V revoked the brief of union, at the same time recognizing the priests of the Religious Schools as a separate institute, with simple vows and the obligation of teaching children gratuitously. On the feast of the Annunciation Father Joseph-of-theMother-of-God received the religious habit from the hands of Cardinal Giustiniani, and himself conferred it on his fourteen assistants. The Roman school under the new régime at once began to recover, another was opened near St Peter’s basilica and others were called for at Sabina and Narni; the time was come for the new congregation to have definitive constitutions, and after a retreat for forty days Father Joseph began to draw them up. They were not finished before the death of Paul V but were at once submitted to his successor, Gregory XV; after some difficulty they were accepted and at the end of 1621 the congregation was recognized as a religious order under the name of the Pauline Poor Clerks Regular of the Mother of God of the Religious Schools; early in the following year it was granted the privileges of a mendicant order and St Joseph was named its superior general. The canonical novitiate was opened at Sant’ Onofrio, but the requirement of new schools in Lombardy and Liguria brought an increase of novices which a few years later necessitated its transfer to bigger and healthier premises. St Joseph did not let the cares of the generalate diminish either his numerous religious observances or his care for the needy, the sick, and any to whom he could be of service. About this time there came to Rome, with his wife and family, an English gentleman, Mr. Thomas Cocket, who by abjuring Protestantism had brought himself within reach of the penal laws; him the saint assisted, and the Pope followed his example, assigning a pension to the refugee converts. For ten years the congregation continued to prosper and extend and spread from Italy into the Empire; at Leipsic the example of the fathers led to wholesale conversions in faith and morals, and the Lord of Strasnitz wrote to the founder: “This city, this county, and all the neighbourhood, might well be called a nest, in which an endless brood of heretical sects was continually springing into life: Calvinists, Lutherans, Picardians, Hussites, Anabaptists, Atheists, and so on. Now, on the contrary, we see almost all of them brought to the one true Faith, full of zeal and devotion, and that in a very short time.”

In 1630 was admitted to the institute at Naples one Mario Sozzi, a middle-aged priest, who in due course was solemnly professed. For several years his forward and perverse behaviour made him a great nuisance to his brethren but, having by a show of burning zeal for right faith gained the good will and influence of the Holy Office, he contrived to get himself, in 1639, made provincial of the Clerks Regular of the Religious Schools in Tuscany, with extraordinary powers and independence of the superior general. He proceeded to administer the province in the most capricious and damaging way, harmed as much as he could the reputation of St Joseph with the Roman authorities, and, when his ambition had led to his banishment from Tuscany for intriguing in affairs of the state, he denounced St Joseph to the Holy Office on the false charge of having instigated the Grand Duke to that action to spite Mario and the sacred congregation. Cardinal Cesarini, as protector of the- new institute and in order to vindicate Joseph, ordered Father Mario’s papers and letters to be seized; these included some documents of the Holy Office and that congregation, spurred on by Mario, straight away had St Joseph arrested and carried through the streets like a felon. He was brought before the assessors and only saved from imprisonment by the intervention of Cardinal Cesarini. But Father Mario was unpunished, and continued to plot for control of the whole institute, representing St Joseph to be too old and doddering for the responsibility; he managed by deceit to get him suspended from the generalate and contrived that a visitor apostolic be appointed who was favourable to himself. This visitor and Father Mario became in effect in supreme command, and St Joseph was subjected by them to the most humiliating, insulting, and unjust treatment, while the order was reduced to such confusion and impotence that the loyal members were unable to persuade the superior authorities of the true state of affairs. Towards the end of 1643 Mario died and was succeeded by Father Cherubini, who pursued the same policy. St Joseph bore these trials with marvellous patience, urging the order to obey his persecutors for they were defacto in authority, and on one occasion sheltering Cherubini from the violent opposition of some of the younger fathers who were indignant at his treachery. The Holy See had some time previously set up a commission of cardinals to look into the whole matter, and at length in 1645 it ordered the reinstatement of St Joseph as superior general; this announcement was received with great joy but led at once to renewed efforts on the part of the malcontents, who now aimed at having the order reduced to the status of a congregation without vows. They were successful, and in 1646 Pope Innocent X published a brief of which the effect was to make the Clerks Regular of the Religious Schools simply a society of priests subject to their respective bishops. Thus in his ninetieth year St Joseph saw the apparent overturning of all his work by the authority to which he was so greatly devoted and the indirect disgrace of himself before the world; when the news was brought to him he simply murmured, “The Lord gave and the Lord hath taken away. Blessed be the name of the Lord.”

The business of drawing up new constitutions and regulations for the shattered institute of Religious Schools was entrusted to Father Cherubini, but within a few months he was convicted by the auditors of the Rota of the maladministration of the Nazarene College, of which he was rector. He retired from Rome in disgrace, but returned in the following year to die, repentant of the part he had played and reconciled to St Joseph, who consoled him on his deathbed. A few months later, on August 25, 1648, St Joseph himself died, and was buried in the church of San Pantaleone; he was ninety-two years old. There is an obvious parallel between this history and that of St Alphonsus Liguori and the early days of the Redemptorists, and during the troubles of his young congregation St Alphonsus used to encourage and fortify himself by reading the life of St Joseph Calasanctius; he was canonized in 1767, six years before the death of Alban Butler, who only gives to him a brief notice in his Lives, wherein he is referred to as “a perpetual miracle of fortitude and another Job” -a comparison made by Cardinal Lambertini (afterwards Pope Benedict XIV) before the Congregation of Sacred Rites in 1728.

The failure of St Joseph’s foundation was only apparent. Its suppression was strongly objected to in several places, especially Poland, Germany, and Moravia, and it was reconstituted with simple vows in 1656 and restored as a religious order in 1669. Today the Clerks Regular of the Religious Schools (commonly called Piarists or Scolopii) number over 4000 religious with 350 schools in various parts of the world.

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Saint Joseph Novena And Prayers

BY FR. REGINALD, OFMCAP

INDEX

INTRODUCTION

As the life of St Joseph was a hidden life upon earth, so devotion to St Joseph, deep and ardent though it always has been, has been hidden in the Church for centuries.

The Franciscan Order was the first to propagate devotion to St Joseph in the Western Church. The first Life of the glorious Patriarch was written by a Child of St Francis (Patrignani); the first Feast in his honour was established by a General Chapter of the Order, at Assisi A.D. 1399; and the first Confraternity under his patronage was founded by a Franciscan missionary, Blessed Bernardine of Feltria, A.D. 1487. The members of the Franciscan Order not only introduced and propagated this devotion in every country in the world evangelised by their missionaries, but it is also mainly owing to them that St Joseph has been proclaimed the Patron of the Universal Church, by the illustrious Child of St Francis, Pius IX- Pius, the priest of the Sacred Heart, and the preacher of Mary’s privileges—to bring St Joseph more prominently before the faithful, thus reuniting, as it were, to the eyes of the faithful, the Sacred Trinity upon earth. The Holy Family of the House of Nazareth: Jesus, Mary, and Joseph.

In the Apostolic Decree which constituted St Joseph patron of the Universal Church, it is stated that the Church has always most highly honoured and praised the most blessed Joseph, next to his Spouse, the Virgin Mother of God, and has besought his intercession in timeof trouble.’

It is related that during Pope Pius IX’s reign, there lived a great artist in Rome. He received an order one day from the Vatican to paint a portrait of the Pope, and a painting of the proclamation of the Dogma of the Immaculate Conception.

When the outline of the painting had been made, he took it to the Vatican for the Pope’s approbation. Skilful though he was, he had great difficulty in grouping round the heavenly throne the many choirs of saints and angels. Throwing a quick glance over thesketch the Holy Father detected an omission. ‘And St Joseph,’ said he, ‘where is he?’ I will put him there,’ said the artist, pointing to a group lost in clouds of light and glory. ‘Not so,’ said the Holy Father, ‘but,’ laying his finger by the side of Our Divine Lord, ‘you will put him there, for that is his place in Heaven.’

Our eternal lot depends on the hour of our death. If we are then in the state of grace, we shall be forever happy in Heaven; if in mortal sin, we shall forever suffer the terrible pains of hell. Hence, we should pray daily to St Joseph for that greatest of graces, a good and holy death fortified by the Sacraments of the Church.

About forty years ago a missionary in South Africa lost his way, and came to the house of a Protestant, and made himself known as a Catholic priest. The Protestant said to him: ‘You have come just in time; one my workmen, a Catholic, is at the point of death.’ The priest went at once to visit the dying man. On seeing the priest he said: ‘Thanks be to God. I knewthat St Joseph would send me a priest to prepare me for death.’ He told the priest that, when he was a boy, his mother had taught him to pray every day to St Joseph, saying: ‘St Joseph, obtain for me a holy death.’ When he became a soldier and had to go to South Africa, his mother, when bidding him farewell again, admonished him never to omit saying that prayer daily to St Joseph. This he promised her, and afterwards faithfully kept his promise. When he got sick the nearest priest lived 150 miles away and, even if he had been sent for, he could not have arrived in time to prepare him for death. But Joseph sent the missionary to the place where his client was dying, in order to prepare him for a good death by administering to him the Last Sacraments.

Let us,while we enjoy good health, never forget to pray daily to the Blessed Virgin, ‘Pray for us now and at the hour of our death’ and to St Joseph, the patron of a happy death, for the grace to die a holy death.

We should have a special devotion to St Joseph, father of Jesus. He is the Patron of the Universal Church, a great helper in temporal needs, for he was the provider of the Holy Family; also a helper of those who try to pray well, and especially the patron of a holy death, for he is the only saint who died in the arms of Jesus and Mary.

TRUSTING PRAYER

‘All things whatsoever you shall ask in prayer, believing you shall receive,’ says Our Divine Lord. To his disciples who wondered at the withering of the fig tree, he said: ‘If you shall have faith and stagger not, not only this of the fig tree shall you do, but if you shall say to this mountain: ‘Take up and cast yourself into the sea, it shall be done.’

To the blind man of Jericho he said: ‘Receive your sight, your faith has made you whole,’ and to the centurion: ‘As you have believed so be it done to you,’ and his servant was healed at the hour.

He rebuked his disciples in the boat: ‘Why are you fearful, you of little faith?’ ‘Do you believe I can do this to you?’ he asked of the two blind men. They say to him: ‘Yes, Lord.’ Then he touched their eyes saying, ‘According to your faith be it done unto you,’ and their eyes were opened.

He cured the Canaanite girl for the sake of her mother’s persevering, confident prayer.

And, as if to impress upon us that there is nothing impossible to trusting prayer, he said to Martha, who seemed to have no hope in her brother’s return to life after his being four days in the grave: ‘Did I not say to you that if you believe you shall see the glory of God?’

God alone knows what is good for us: how often is the refusal of our request a far greater favour than would be the granting of them. Certainly Our Divine Lord who once said: ‘Whatsoever you ask of the Father in my name the same shall be given unto you,’ will not turn a deaf ear to our prayers.

If, like Apostles, you enter the novena with a spirit of reverence, of perseverance, of resignation to the will of God, and of repentance, you may rest assured that every prayer will be granted somehow and at some time by our dear Lord.

Indulgences for devotion to St Joseph For Novena to St Joseph

(a) A Plenary Indulgence, if present at the Novena for at least five days, and complying with the usual conditions, namely, Confession, Communion, and prayers for the Pope’s, intentions.

(b)A Plenary Indulgence on the usual conditions, namely, Confession, Communion, and prayers for the Pope’s intentions. But where a Public Novena is taking place, this indulgence can be gained only by those who are legitimately prevented from attending the public one.

-Pius XI, March 6, 1935

FOR THE MONTH OF MARCH

A Plenary Indulgence, if they perform this pious exercise for at least ten days, go to Confession, Holy Communion, and pray for the Pope’s intentions.

A Plenary Indulgence on the usual conditions, provided they have performed this pious exercise for the entire month. But where public exercises are being conducted, this indulgence can be gained only by those who are legitimately prevented from making them.

-Pius XI, November 21, 1933

FOR THE FIRST WEDNESDAY OF EACH MONTH

1. A Plenary Indulgence on the usual conditions, namely, Confession, Communion, visit to a church, and prayers for the Pope’s intentions.

-Pius XI, May 13, 1933

2. A Plenary Indulgence may be gained on the usual conditions, provided this pious practice has been performed daily for the entire month.

-Pius XI, October 12, 1936

MANNER OF MAKING NOVENA TO ST JOSEPH

1. For nine consecutive days or Wednesdays, recite the following prayers in any church or your own home, before a picture or statue of St Joseph.

2. On each of these days, if possible, assist at Holy Mass, and during or at the end of the Novena, receive the Sacraments of Penance and Holy Eucharist.

3. Endeavour to propagate devotion to St Joseph, which can be done effectively by circulating this booklet.

NOVENA IN HONOUR OF ST JOSEPH

Prayer to the Holy Ghost

Come, O Holy Ghost, fill the hearts of your faithful, and kindle in them the fire of your love.

V. Send forth your Spirit, and they shall be created. R. And you shall renew the face of the earth. Let us pray O God, who instructed the hearts of the faithful by the light of the Holy Spirit, grant that in the same Spirit we may be truly wise, and ever rejoice in his consolation. Through Christ Our Lord.

Prayers to be said each day of the Novena O glorious St Joseph, faithful follower of Jesus Christ, to you we raise our hearts and hands to implore your powerful intercession in obtaining from the benign Heart of Jesus all the helps and graces necessary for our spiritual and temporal welfare, particularly the grace of a happy death, and the special favour we now implore. (Here mention your request).

O Guardian of the Word Incarnate, we feel animated with confidence that your prayers on our behalf will be graciously heard before the throne of God.

V. O glorious St Joseph, through the love you bear to Jesus Christ, and for the glory his name.

R. Hear our prayers and obtain our petitions.

PRAYER

O glorious St Joseph, spouse of the Immaculate Virgin, obtain for me a pure, humble and charitable mind, and perfect resignation to the divine will. Be my guide, father and model through life, that I may merit to die, as you did, in the arms of Jesus and Mary.

O glorious St Joseph, I most humbly beg of you, by the love and care you have for Jesus and Mary, to take my affairs, spiritual and temporal into your hands.

Draw from them the greater glory of God and obtain for me the grace to do his holy will.

FIRST DAY OF NOVENA- 10 MARCH

This Novena may also be used for the Feast of the Solemnity of St Joseph- third Wednesday after Easter, and for all the Wednesdays throughout the year. It may also be used for any nine consecutive days’ novena at any time.

FAITH, HOPE AND CHARITY

The three acts of Faith, Hope and Charity, contain all man’s happiness on earth. By Faith, we believe what God has promised; we believe that we shall one day see and possess him, that we shall be with him for ever in heaven. By Hope, we await the fulfilment of his promises; we hope to be rewarded for all our good actions, thoughts, and desires, for God keeps count even of good desires.

In heaven, faith and hope will no longer exist, for the mists which obscure our reason will be dissipated. Our mind will gain comprehension of things which are hidden from it here below. We shall no longer have anything to hope for, since we shall have everything. One does not hope to acquire a treasure which one already possesses . . . But Love! Oh, we shall be intoxicated with it. We shall be drowned in this ocean of divine love, in this immense charity of the heart of Jesus. Thus charity is a foretaste of heaven. Oh, if we could understand it, could taste it, how happy we should be. The reason of our unhappiness is that we do not love God.

Our Father. Hail Mary. Glory.

St Joseph, foster father of Our Lord Jesus Christ, and true spouse of the Virgin Mary, pray for us. Jesus, Mary and good St Joseph, bless us now and in the agony of death.

Jesus, Mary, Joseph.

SECOND DAY OF NOVENA- 11 MARCH

LOVE OF OUR NEIGHBOUR

We should have peace if we knew how to bear patiently what we endeavour to avoid, and if we conformed ourselves of these words of St Paul: ‘Clothe yourselves, as befits the beloved elect of God, in compassion, goodness, and humility, in modesty and patience, bearing with one another, and mutually pardoning offences, forgiving each other, as God has pardoned you.’ How little patience would cost, if only we remembered how Jesus Christ bears with us, and how, through love, he expiated our sins upon the cross; if we thought of heaven, which awaits us as a recompense for the sufferings we endure for him; if we understood that to love one’s neighbour is the surest means of attracting God’s love; if we realised the glory of imitating the goodness, the clemency, the magnificence even of Jesus Christ and of his Father, by pardoning as they have pardoned us.

Our Father. Hail Mary. Glory.

St Joseph, foster father of Our Lord Jesus Christ and true spouse of the Virgin Mary, pray for us.

Jesus, Mary and good St Joseph, bless us now and in the agony of death.

Jesus, Mary, Joseph.

THIRD DAY OF NOVENA- 12 MARCH

THE GREATER THE CROSS—THE BRIGHTER THE CROWN

As, in constructing an edifice, more care and attention are devoted to the chiselling of one stone than another, according to the importance and beauty of its destined resting-place, so each Christian is tried by crosses and afflictions, which are heavy and grievous in proportion to the splendour of the crown prepared for him, and the degree of glory which God intends for him. He chastises those whom He loves, lest, corrupted by the pleasures of the age, they should stray from the path of salvation.

If we accustomed ourselves to look to God in everything, and to consider everything from his standpoint, we should remain firm and unmoved amid trials and temptations, saying with holy Job: ‘Nothing has happened to me save what has pleased the Lord; blessed be his Holy Name.’ God, who permits me to be afflicted, takes particular care of me, in his infinite goodness. He has fastened me to the cross; I will remain there until he unfastens me.

Our Father. Hail Mary. Glory.

St Joseph, foster father of Our Lord Jesus Christ and true spouse of the Virgin Mary, pray for us.

Jesus, Mary and good St Joseph, bless us now and in the agony of death.

Jesus, Mary, Joseph.

FOURTH DAY OF NOVENA- 13 MARCH

THE THOUGHT OF HEAVEN

We should often raise our minds to that celestial Jerusalem, that glorious city of God, where we shall hear his praises sung on every side by an infinite number of saints. If we inquire of them how they arrived there, we shall learn that the apostles have attained heaven chiefly by love, the martyrs by constancy, the doctors by meditation, the confessors by mortification, the virgins by purity of body and of heart, and all in general by humility.

Let us then walk cheerfully and joyously forward amid the difficulties of this transitory life; let us welcome, with open arms, mortifications, pains, and afflictions, if we meet them on our road, since we are assured that these trials will have an end, that they will terminate with our life, after which there will be nothing but contentment and eternal consolation.

Our Father. Hail Mary. Glory.

St Joseph, foster father of Our Lord Jesus Christ and true spouse of the Virgin Mary, pray for us.

Jesus, Mary and good St Joseph, bless us now and in the agony of death.

Jesus, Mary, Joseph.

FIFTH DAY OF NOVENA- 14 MARCH

THE VANITY OF EARTHLY THINGS

We are not sent into the world to amuse ourselves but, on the contrary, to suffer patiently and piously the pains of this exile, making use of them to win a holy and happy eternity. Oh! how sweet is a blessed eternity! What does it matter whether we are happy or unhappy on this miserable earth, so full of sadness! But what a wretched fate awaits those who, on earth, seek only pleasure and gratification! It makes little difference whether they find it or not. The little time these children of misfortune have to spend here will soon be passed; and afterwards it is a question of heaven or hell. Do not set your affections then, on the honours, riches, pleasures and luxuries of this world. Choose for yourself the only lasting happiness; reject the false happiness whch is only a dream.

Our Father. Hail Mary. Glory.

St Joseph, foster father of Our Lord Jesus Christ and true spouse of the Virgin Mary, pray for us.

Jesus, Mary and good St Joseph, bless us now and in the agony of death.

Jesus, Mary, Joseph.

SIXTH DAY OF NOVENA- 15 MARCH

THE MOST TENDER OF FATHERS

Joseph is our father, since we are Mary’s children, the brothers and co-heirs of God’s Divine Son. Jesus, in acting as Joseph’s Son, infused into his heart a love more tender than the best of father’s, and that not only in order to be loved himself as a son, but that this love might extend to all men, his children also. God has not commanded fathers and mothers to love their children, says St Thomas, because nature endows them with a love for them so strong, that it takes the place of law and precept. Judge, then, if St Joseph, the most tender of fathers, could forget mankind committed to his care. Thus it is that the holy patriarch has received a special gift of love, tenderness and solicitude, which impels him to bestow upon us benefits as great as the most loving father could desire for the children whom he loves more than himself.

Our Father. Hail Mary. Glory.

St Joseph, foster father of Our Lord Jesus Christ and true spouse of the Virgin Mary, pray for us.

Jesus, Mary and good St Joseph, bless us now and in the agony of death.

Jesus, Mary. Joseph.

SEVENTH DAY OF NOVENA- 16 MARCH

THE LOVE OF GOD

To love God—such is the one end for which God has created us, and the one object which we should strive to realise here below, by constant effort and earnest solicitude.

Charity is the queen of all virtues; it reigns and will reign eternally. After death, faith will have its reward; it will see what it believed; but it shall not enter into heaven. Hope, after death, shall have its recompense; it will possess what it longed for, but it shall not enter heaven. Charity, also, shall have its reward after death, but this reward will consist in lasting eternally in an immense beatitude, and burning eternally with its utmost ardour for the God whom it has loved upon earth. Charity shall enter heaven.

Let us love God, then, with all our heart and with all our strength. Let us have God before our eyes in all that we do, in order to confirm in all things to his holy will and good pleasure. Nay more, let us bear, not merely patiently, but even joyfully, everything which mortifies our self-love and our natural sensuality. Finally, let us prize nothing outside of the love of God; let his divine love be the sole object of our frequent and earnest supplications.

Our Father. Hail Mary. Glory.

St Joseph, foster father of Our Lord Jesus Christ and true spouse of the Virgin Mary, pray for us.

Jesus, Mary and good St Joseph, bless us now and in the agony of death.

Jesus, Mary, Joseph.

EIGHTH DAY OF NOVENA- 17 MARCH

BE READY

Few are converted at the hour of death. More than that, it is very difficult, if one has lived an evil life, to prepare oneself then to die well. Then is not the time to extirpate the bad habits which have rooted themselves in the soul, to tear from the heart the passions which rule it, and to remove its affection for the treasures of earth. At the hour of death all is dark. We have no light, and can no longer work. Hardness of heart, darkness of intellect, all kinds of troubles and fears, the attentions which the body demands, all combine to hinder the sinful soul from regulating his troubled conscience. Then what is done, is done. As our last illness finds us, in a state of grace or in sin, so shall we be at the hour of death and for all eternity.

We should, then, always be ready for the call of death. ‘Be ready,’ said Our Lord, ‘estote parati,’ now and always. ‘The time is short,’ says the Lord again; let us beware of losing a moment. This is why the Holy Ghost gives us the advice ‘Do not put off till tomorrow what you can do today.’

Our Father. Hail Mary. Glory.

St Joseph, foster father of Our Lord Jesus Christ and true spouse of the Virgin Mary, pray for us.

Jesus, Mary and good St Joseph, bless us now and in the agony of death.

Jesus, Mary, Joseph.

NINTH DAY OF NOVENA- 18 MARCH

NEVER LOSE COURAGE

Saint Bonaventure says that perseverance in prayer, and in the regulation of our lives, is of all things the one which leads us most rapidly to the height of perfection; for, however little the traveller advances, if he walks every day, he will arrive finally at the place he wishes to reach. But if we lose courage, if we stop at every step, we have to begin anew every day, and our lifetime passes before we can complete the journey which we had planned. If, in the course of your life, owing to human weakness, you have the misfortune to fall, or even lose strength, do not become disheartened, do not lose courage or hope. Even if you were to fall a thousand times a day, try to rise as often. Join your thread where it is broken, instead of taking a new one; you will thus finish your work quickly.

O Joseph, virgin foster father of Jesus, most pure spouse of the Virgin Mary, pray daily for us to the same Jesus, son of God, that being strengthened by the powers of his grace, and successfully striving during life, we may be crowned in death by him.

Our Father. Hail Mary. Glory.

St Joseph, foster father of Our Lord Jesus Christ and true spouse of the Virgin Mary, pray for us. Jesus, Mary and good St Joseph, bless us now and in the agony of death. Jesus, Mary, Joseph.

INDULGENCED PRAYERS TO ST JOSEPH

Guardian of virgins and father, Holy Joseph, to whose faithful care Christ Jesus, innocence itself, and Mary, Virgin of Virgins, were committed: I pray and beseech thee, by these dear pledges, Jesus and Mary, that free from all uncleanness, and with spotless mind, pure heart and chaste body, you make me ever more chastely familiar with Jesus and Mary, all the days of life. Amen.

A Plenary indulgence may be gained on the usual conditions, provided this prayer has been said daily for the entire month.

Remember us, O Blessed Joseph, and aid us by your powerful intercession with him who allowed himself to be called your son; make also gracious to us your most Blessed Virgin Spouse, the Mother of him, who, with the Father and the Holy Ghost, lives and reigns for ever and ever. Amen.

-St Bernardine of Siena

A Plenary Indulgence may be gained on the usual conditions, provided this prayer has been said daily for the entire month.

PRAYER TO ST JOSEPH

For the month of October

To you, O Blessed Joseph, we have recourse in our tribulations, and while imploring the aid of your most holy spouse, we confidently invoke your patronage also. By that love which united you to the Immaculate Virgin Mother of God, and by the fatherly affection with which you embraced the Infant Jesus, we humbly beseech you graciously to regard the inheritance which Jesus Christ purchased by his blood, and to help us in our necessities by your powerful intercession.

Protect, O most provident guardian of the Holy Family, the chosen children of Jesus Christ; ward off from us, O most loving father, all taint of error and corruption; graciously assist us from heaven, O most powerful protector, in our struggle with the powers of darkness, as you once rescued the Child Jesus from imminent peril to his life, so now defend the holy Church of God from the snares of her enemies and from all adversity. Shield each one of us with your unceasing patronage, that, imitating your example, and supported by your aid, we may be enabled to lead a good life, die a holy death, and secure everlasting happiness in heaven. Amen.

A Plenary Indulgence may be gained on the usual conditions, provided this prayer has been said daily for the entire month.

WEDNESDAY, DEDICATED TO ST JOSEPH

Each Wednesday in the year is dedicated to St Joseph, and all those devoted to him should on this particular day practice special devotion in his honour. And his own month—the month of March- set aside to honour him especially, will be gladly welcomed each year by the devout clients of the foster-father of Our Divine Lord. St Joseph was very near and dear to the heart of Jesus in his life, and so, too, he is very close to the hearts of those who love Jesus and who try to follow him, no matter how feebly.

The intercession of St Joseph is verypowerful. St Teresa says: ‘I know by experience that the glorious St Joseph assists us generally in all necessities. I have never asked him for anything which he did not obtain for me.’

And that great Franciscan saint- St Margaret of Cortona- heard Our Lord say: ‘If you would do what is pleasing to me, do not let a single day pass without offering some tribute of praise and veneration to St Joseph.’ Therefore, let us pray to him constantly, and ask him to lay our petitions at the foot of the great white throne. Let us ask for patience on the hard road, and perseverance in our trials; above all, let us beg him each day for the grace of a holy and a happy death.

PRAYER

O Lord Jesus Christ, who by subjecting yourself to Mary and Joseph consecrated family life with wonderful virtues, grant that by their help we may fashion our lives after the example of your Holy Family, and obtain everlasting fellowship with it. Who lives and reigns for ever and ever. Amen.

A Plenary Indulgence may be gained on the usual conditions, provided this prayer has been said daily for the entire month.

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Saint Joseph’s Apostolic Work

REV. ALBERT POWER, S.J., M.A

INDEX

1. GLORY OF DOMESTIC LIFE

JOSEPH was not a Priest. Jesus is the model and the glory of Priests and of those that give up family life to work for God.

But Joseph is the honor of wedded life; he shows the world the virtues that are to adorn that state, the virtues by the practice of which those living in wedlock are to become holy.

We have seen in a previous article that Christian family life is to be modelled on the example of the Family of which Joseph was the head.

Now, the Catholic Church is an organisation to perpetuate and keep ever freshly before us the family life of Nazareth. But here there comes in an astonishing element that enables the Church to carry out this project in a divinely perfect way. For the Man who is the centre of the family life, the Divine Person whose assumption of our flesh created that Family, is actually present in our midst, in His living human nature; eternally youthful; the same strong, loving Presence that filled His Mother’s heart with sweet emotion when He flung His arms around her neck in the Temple and kissed away her tears; the same Man that gripped Peter so firmly on the stormy lake in the darkness and whispered so intensely, “Man of little faith, why didst thou doubt?”; the same Presence that comforted the poor, despairing adulteress whom rough men dragged before Him, wishing to stone her to death for sins they themselves were steeped in; and His pure lips said, “Neither will I condemn thee: go and sin no more”; the same Presence that thrilled Mary Magdalen, the broken, sobbing woman, as she wept at the tomb because His body had been filched away; the same Jesus that made the hearts of the doubting and desolate disciples burn within them with a new fire of hope as they plodded along the road to Emmaus, on Easter Sunday; the same Master from whose lips penitent, remorseful Peter heard the golden words—truly “words of eternal life”—“Simon, son of John, lovest thou Me more than these?”

How Devotion Helps. This Man is still with us, and His family life is still a living reality, because, although Mary and Joseph are not bodily present with us (as Jesus is), still we are in actual communication with them in heaven; they hear our prayers; we can converse with them.

This will help us to understand better the relationship between our devotion to Mary and Joseph and our devotion to Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament. Jesus is bodily with us because He is our salvation; and personal contact with Him as Man is the seed and source of our eternal life- that is, of our sharing the life of God. “I am the bread of life (the bread nourishing eternal life in your soul). He that eateth my flesh and drinketh my blood hath everlasting life: and I will raise him up on the last day.”

The whole organisation of our religion, therefore, is to bring us into close, personal contact with Jesus, to make His Eucharistic Presence available for all to enjoy and to profit by.

Mary and Joseph Keep Us Loyal. Now, devotion to Mary and Joseph draws us into close contact with Jesus. So it was, for example, that devotion to St. Joseph helped St. Teresa of Avila. But for that devotion she might have drifted altogether away from Jesus. She cultivated friendship with the Keeper of the Child, and his powerful assistance kept her loyal and true to the Master. Just as, for example, an officer in the French army, through frequent intercourse with some very loyal and ardent admirer of Napoleon Bonaparte, might be kept strong and faithful in the service of the Emperor; whereas contact with disaffected persons might cool his devotion and lead to complete alienation. Our attitude to those that rule us is often the result of our conversation with fellow-subjects.

Now, Mary andJoseph were Christ’s most loyal servants and followers. They answered His call more perfectly, with more wholehearted devotion, than any other of His creatures. They loved Him more unreservedly, turned away from everything opposed to His service more absolutely and resolutely, than any others. Consequently, intercourse with them will strengthen our loyalty to Him as nothing else can. They stand nearest the throne, they know Him best; they realise most perfectly who He is, what His rights and claims are; and, therefore, they can draw us to Him as none others can. Hence, they are preeminently guardians of His Eucharistic Presence; devotion to them promotes intensely devotion to Him.

A Scene of Human Love. And still it is the Family Life. For the relationship of these three human beings is ever presented to us as one of family affection-Mary, loving Jesus as her God, but also as her darling Son, to whom she gave His being as Man; Joseph, loving Jesus as God, but also as his dear Foster Son, over whom he exercised parental authority by express wish of God Himself.

So that it is a scene of human love that is presented to us, and we are encouraged to join that little circle of friends in the only way in which one can join such a circle- namely, by love. Love is the talisman that wins entrance to this Divine Household. One might come there, perhaps, to ask for favors through some other motive, such as fear or reverence or necessity. But to be one of the family, to share its secrets, its joys, its sorrows, you must love. This is what Jesus means to convey to us when He displays His Heart ablaze with flames of love- viz., that to come to Him and know Him as a Friend you must love Him. He is thirsting for our love- that is the great secret He wants us to learn.

The Hound of Heaven. It is the secret at the heart of the world. For God created the universe to be a home for Jesus, and for men and women who would love Him. Jesus is the First-born—the predestined (before all others) in God’s eternal decrees; and all other creatures—both angels and men—are created to honor and love Him. The glorious material universe is made to lead men to God, and one of the Divine Persons has entered into and become a part of the material creation in order to carry out His plan of winning our love.

Still with unhurrying chase

And unperturbed pace,

Deliberate speed, majestic instancy,

Came on the following Feet.

If you love people truly and sincerely with an honorable, upright affection, you can do what you like with them. Jesus is no exception; rather He thirsts for love as no human soul ever has thirsted, and is using all possible means to persuade us to love Him. And Joseph, His faithful friend, is one of Christ’s most powerful auxiliaries in this divine pursuit.

2. GUARDIAN OF VIRGINS

St. Joseph—because he is the Patron of Family Life- is the guardian of the innocence of children. The man to whose keeping God entrusted the spotless innocence of the Virgin Mother will surely take good care of the souls of children whom parents place under his protection. And he discharges this duty by promoting the life of grace in their souls—since it is only God’s grace can strengthen and safeguard the soul against temptation.

The Gift of Grace. The life of grace in the soul has two aspects. First, just as we possess a spiritual soul to be the active principle of our physical existence, so in grace God bestows upon us a permanent abiding gift, a new supernatural principle, which makes us share in His own life. This is called sanctifying grace. And so long as we possess that principle we are in the state of charity and are united with God.

But then besides this we exercise acts of the theological virtue of charity, whereby we love and seek God above all created things for His own sake, because He is God and infinitely transcends all things that are not Himself.

Our Highest Activity. The constant seeking of God thus, because He is God, constitutes our real life, our truest and highest activity. It is for that activity we were created, that is the highest point capable of attainment by a created being. The exercise of those acts constitutes the life of the soul of Jesus, the Son of God. And He came into the world to communicate that same wonderful life to us. Without Faith and Hope that life is impossible, just as the fragrance and beauty of the rose are impossible without the sun’s light and heat: but still Faith and Hope do not constitute the life. That life is Charity.

God’s Instrument. Here then we see the work that God wants to effect in the soul; and to secure this great result, Jesus instituted the Blessed Sacrament. This is His instrument for accomplishing this divine work. The instrument is great and wonderful, because the work to be done is so marvellous.

God’s design in giving us this food is to fill our souls more and more with the light of Faith and banish the darkness of worldliness and creature worship. He is continuing day by day the work of destroying idolatry which He began when He came on earth. In our hearts He is ever striving to break the idols and pull down the shrines which we so readily build to creatures, that He may erect there a Sanctuary to His Father, and make us adorers in spirit and in truth. Therefore, an intense faith and spirit of worship should be the first fruits of our reception of the Eucharist. St. Catharine of Siena prayed incessantly for the gift of a perfect Faith. We should come ceaselessly to Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament with this earnest petition,”Lord give me faith. To whom shall we go but to Thee? Thou hast the words of eternal life.”

The form in which He resides in our midst, the deep silence of the Eucharist, mark His design of developing our Faith. To come to Him in His sacramental state and bow in reverence before Him requires an act of faith. That faith it is that reaches out and catches hold of Him in spite of the veil that hides Him from us. “Blessed are those that have not seen and have believed.”

The Commander in Chief. Hope too is kindled by His presence in our midst. What army is not fired with enthusiasm by the actual presence of its Commander-inChief? Think how Napoleon’s soldiers were roused to fight when the great General appeared in their midst as, for example, at Marengo! They forgot every danger, thought nothing impossible, refused no sacrifice, because the General was present; his eye was upon them, they might win a word of praise from him that would tingle in their hearts, and make hot blood leap to their cheeks all their lives long when they remembered it.

Well- and what of ourselves? Are we not an army, surrounded by foes striving to drag us away from God? Is not our Commander also camped in our midst, right beside us here to cheer us on? And shall we be afraid? In the Blessed Sacrament Jesus Christ is ever present with the light of victory shining in His eyes, with strong cheering words falling like music from His lips, bidding us hope in Him and be brave. You remember how His strong melodious voice rang out across the Lake to His doubting, frightened friends. “Be of good heart—it is I- be not afraid.” That is His battle cry ever. So to the terrified Peter as he sank in the tossing waves He cried: “O thou of little faith, why didst thou doubt?” Again when roused from sleep in the boat, after stilling the storm: “Ye cowards why are you afraid? Where is your faith?” And to the two desponding disciples on the road to Emmaus: “O foolish and slow of heart to believe in all things which the prophets have spoken. Ought not Christ to have suffered these things and so enter into His glory?”

The Bread of Life. And finally life- the true life of the soul- Jesus would communicate to us through this heavenly Food. That is why it is given as food- because it is to support life. Without food we starve to death. And so “unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink His blood you shall not have life in you.” The giving of supernatural life is the special effect and result of partaking of the Eucharist. So Jesus tells us repeatedly: “The bread of God is that which cometh down from Heaven and giveth life to the world. If any man eat of this bread he shall live forever.”

Jesus the Source of Life. If then we wish to live well this life of Charity, let us go to Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament; let us unite ourselves closely to Him, and then this glorious life will come plentifully into our souls from contact and union with Him. He is the source of life- therefore He will impart it to us. We may be cold, and heavy, and listless, but His intense fervour will cure our weakness. He is living with God-like intensity this life of Charity, and it is by coming to Him that we also shall be enabled to live that life and give to God that perfect service which He demands of us and to secure which He brought us into being.

3. MAINSTAY OF FAMILIES

St. Joseph is the Support or Mainstay of Families—both the domestic and the religious family: that is, both of the group of people who dwelling together constitute the home, and of the group of people that dwell together as part of a religious order or congregation in order to promote God’s interests in the world. The Holy Family of Nazareth is the model of both:- it was the first Christian Family and also the first Religious Family or Congregation. For to be a religious means to consecrate your life to the immediate personal service of Jesus- renouncing worldly interests and pleasures in order to secure this. It means giving yourself up to a life of strict poverty, chastity and obedience- and such was in very truth the life of Jesus, Mary and Joseph.

Now St. Joseph was the Pillar or Support of the Holy Family because he was its responsible Head—to whom it looked for everything. And he is also the Pillar or Support of all future Christian families—both domestic and religious—both by his powerful prayers and intercession and also by stimulating his clients to intense devotion to Mary his Spouse.

When God wished to reform the social state of the world He began by reforming the family: and in order to refor m the family He set to work to restore Woman to her rightful place both in the esteem of mankind and as a cooperator in the work of saving souls.

Woman’s Elevation. One of the startling things which God did when He came to save the world from sin, was to set woman on a pinnacle of glory such as no human mind had ever dreamt of or conceived as possible for her. The pagan world, men whose hearts had completely turned away from God and refused to worship Him, had degraded woman to the lowest depths of infamy.She had become the plaything of man’s passions—all the beauty and purity of her soul drowned in an ocean of sin. God came to restore His handiwork and in order to do this He elevated woman-kind to an unspeakable dignity by choosing a woman to be His own Mother.

Mary’s Glory. On that supreme fact- on the glorious position of Mary of Nazareth as the Mother of God, the Catholic Church has ever concentrated her attention: her children have ever been enraptured as they contemplate with love and admiration this fair vision of the woman “clothed with the sun,” who is actually the Mother of Him who is God.

In honoring Mary thus the Catholic Church is honoring all womankind, is helping to lift up all women to new heights of holiness and purity. She is faithfully following the footsteps of her Founder- since no one ever reverenced or honored women as Jesus did. All the noble chivalrous respect for woman that has shone so brightly down the Church’s story has come into the Christian life as an echo of the chivalry of Christ.

Women in the Gospel. In the Gospel story they stand out vividly- the women whom Jesus specially honored. First and foremost and above all, the glorious sinless woman who was His Mother. The most elevating, tender, purifying influence that comes (or should come) into the life of every man born into the world is love and reverence for his mother. That sentiment is closely interwoven with the heart strings of our nature: and it has been exalted and ennobled to an indefinitely high degree by Christ’s love for His Mother.

Lifting Up the Sinner. But Jesus came not only to set before mankind the perfect type of saintly womanhood in the pure unsullied Virgin that knew no sin and lived all on fire with love of God: but He came also to lift up the fallen and show that the sinner could live again to God. And so we see standing beside His sinless Mother on Mount Cavalry, the other Mary who had been a sinner but now is living with God in ecstatic love.

During His earthly life Christ chose women to be His helpers and apostles: so all down the history of the Church it has been the same. And one of the triumphs of the Catholic Church, one of the treasures she is proudest of and loves to point to and exult in, is the long roll of women Saints, who from the very beginning have given such splendid examples of heroic virtue.

Saintly Mothers. In every walk of life they have been found. A great number of them have been mothers of families, who besides being saintly themselves have given to the Church a gift that is worth more to her than gold and precious stones or any earthly treasure, namely, saintly children.

Many others, on the contrary, have lived a cloistered life, separated from the world: giving themselves up to prayer and penance, both to shield their own souls from evil and to labor for the salvation of others who are turned away from God. And it is marvellous how often such women, living secluded lives hidden with Christ in God, have nevertheless exerted extraordinary influence on the history of the Church either during their lifetime or after their death. One need only mention such instances as St. Catharine of Siena, St. Gertrude, St. Teresa of Avila, St. Margaret Mary and many others.

The Maid of Lisieux. In that glorious roll of famous women stands the little Carmelite Saint Therese of Lisieux. When she died her name was hardly known beyond the convent walls, except to a few family friends. Today, a few years after that quiet death-bed scene in Lisieux her name has become a household word all over the five continents, wherever Catholic people are found.

And if you ask how and why? If you ask who was her publicity agent to secure for her a reputation such as no other person of modern times has attained in such a brief period; the answer is this: God Himself was her publicity agent: it is He who has made His little servant known by the number and wonderful nature of the miracles He has wrought at her intercession.

Her Mission to Mankind. And if again you ask why has God acted thus? What is the special benefit to His Church and to souls which He wishes to secure by making Saint Therese so well known? What is the particular part this childlike Carmelite has to play in God’s plan? I think it is this: St. Therese is to be the greatest, the most attractive and most successful Apostle of devotion to the Sacred Heart of Jesus in modern times.

Devotion to the Sacred Heart means that one realises deeply the central truth of the Christian revelation—that God is love. The supreme lesson which God became man to teach to the world is just this: “God is love.”

In order to propagate in the world this great devotion to His Sacred Heart Christ chose His consecrated Spouse: Saint Margaret Mary Alacoque. She died in 1690, over 200 years ago. Since that time many other fervent Apostles of the devotion have appeared and continued the good work of St. Margaret Mary. But in our days an Apostle of a special type was called for.

The Rush of Modern Life. During the past hundred years the world has changed vastly in its ideas and outlook and even, it would seem, in the actual physical constitution of its men and women. As the result of marvellous discoveries in science there is an enormous increase in the world’s machinery. Life has become far more complicated. Everything moves more swiftly. People spend a far greater amount of time travelling by motor car and railway, by steamship and aeroplane. Girls and women take a part in professional and public life that was undreamt of a century ago.

Then too the enormous increase in the production of books and newspapers: the universal habit of reading, the almost unrestricted licence of the press: the coming of moving pictures and wireless broadcasting: all these things have revolutionised modern life: and one very evident result of all this increased hustle and bustle and excitement is the ever increasing strain on the nervous system.

Moreover there is abroad a widespread tendency to scepticism in religion. Books attacking the fundamental truths of the Faith are accessible to all and are unfortunately freely read. Add to all this the craze for bodily pleasure- for jazz parties, weird dances, exotic amusement of every kind.

Persuasive Teacher Needed. Evidently amid all this din and hurly-burly the claims of God and of His love have little chance of making themselves heard. The teachers or preachers that will succeed in winning attention when speaking on that theme must make their appeal in very persuasive accents indeed. And so God sent this gracious, attractive child Saint who has so quickly become the darling of the whole world, Sister Therese of Lisieux.

That her method of appeal is suited to modern conditions is proved by her phenomenal success. Probably nothing quite like it has ever been known in the history of the Church before.

Her Secret. If you try to analyse her system and discover her secret it reduces itself to this: She speaks unceasingly about the love of God: about the beauty and overwhelming attractiveness of this heavenly Lover and shows how easy it is for everyone to love Him. She robs religion of its terrors.

Although a Carmelite Nun, a member of one of the most austere orders in the Church, vowed to a life of penance, poverty and prayer: still she so tells the story of that life that we see it all bathed in the golden light of love: and all the elements that tend to frighten or repel ordinary folk disappear and one sees only the soul lifted up to close mystic union with the divine Lover, whilst exteriorly occupied with a round of the simplest and most commonplace daily duties.

Is not that just the striking characteristic of the story of Jesus Himself? Everything about it is so simple, so unaffected: His life, apart from the miracles of healing which He worked during His public career, is so ordinary and homely.

A Successful Advocate.And so St. Therese of Lisieux is a powerful and successful advocate, pleading God’s cause to a busy, rushing, pleasureloving world. Pleading God’s cause, I say: for that is what it means to be an Apostle of the Sacred Heart of Jesus.

It means drawing people to realise that God loves them and is begging for their love in return. Jesus Christ displays His Heart all ablaze with flames of love, in order to bring home to mankind at one glance that the quality by which He wishes especially to be known is this: that He is a Lover, that He loves as no man ever loved.

4. SOLACE OF THE AFFLICTED Thou hast not forgotten the long, dreary road.

When Mary took turns with thee bearing thy God.

FATHER FABER

St. Joseph can comfort the sorrowing, because he has suffered. The story of his life is meagre in details, but it tells of sorrow all through, as is the case always with near friends of Jesus.

First, his mental anguish is narrated in St. Matthew, until the angel came to bid him have no fear and to take home his beloved wife, Mary; for the Child that was in her womb was of the Holy Ghost. Then the pains and sufferings of the journey to Bethlehem, of the night in the stable, the flight into Egypt.

St. Joseph knows the sorrows of life; and because he has learned from Jesus the secret of charity for the miserable, he is pre-eminently our refuge and consolation in our troubles. Experience proves his right to this blessed title.

God wants us to trust Him; that is the constant exhortation running through all His utterances in the Holy Scriptures. He is ever whispering to our hearts: “It is I, fear not.” He knows well that this whisper is the one thing we need to hear that we may trust Him and lean on Him. We are crushed by the sense of our own impotence and insignificance in the universe, and this little voice stealing through the turmoil of creation gives us courage, since it tells us that, weak as we are alone, we can count on His boundless strength.

Behold the Lilies.”Behold the lilies, how they grow. They labour not, neither do they spin. But I say to you that not even Solomon in all his glory was arrayed as one of these. And if the grass of the field . . . God doth so clothe, how much more you, O ye of little faith.” Hinting that we, too, must let God work for us. He loves us and wants to take on Himself the duty and pleasure of working for us, of making His creation serve us and beautify us.

Beauty is the outward sign of perfection of organism. God wishes to perfect us, and thus make us fair in His eyes. We are vessels in the hands of the potter, and must undergo rough treatment at times, be burnt or baked it may be, but all to make the final result more beautiful and more lasting. The clay vessel is useless until it has been hardened in the fire. The furnace of the soul is tribulation, without which we remain soft, useless clay. So we read, “Gold and silver are tried in the fire, but acceptable men in the furnace of humiliation.” (Ecclesiasticus ii., 5.) How differently men would spend life if they took these views of pain and suffering!

The Ring of Our Espousals.Ruysbrook says: “The whole universe is the ring of our espousals bestowed upon us by God.” And if my Bridegroom is the jeweller who has shaped this ring and studded it with precious stones for me, surely I may lean confidently on Him who has had the skill and the will and the affection to give me that gift. The ceaseless changing hues of nature: the flashing radiance of spring, the rich beauty of summer, the soft mellow glories of autumn, the cold whiteness of winter, are but the glistening of this jewelled ring as He turns it in His hand, flashing its facets in order to win my smile of approval. It was to gain this smile from me that He made the world; for He made the world that from it I might praise Him; and the subtlest and most delightful praise is the smile of approval breaking like dawn on the face of one we love. Think of God looking to me for that! It is only explicable on the same principle as we explain a grown-up man or woman longing for a smile from their baby boy- viz., we say it is love, and then all is explained.

So to wipe away my tears and to hush my sobs, to smooth my face and bring the sunshine of laughter into my life, Jesus is a baby in the armsof St. Joseph. Joseph’s business is to present this great Child-God to the world, that in Him all may find solace in their troubles.

5. HOPE OF THE SICK

It was fit we should make merry and be glad, for this thy brother was dead and is come to life again; he was lost and is found. St. Luke xv., 32.

The instinct of Catholics makes them turn with confidence to the Foster Father of Jesus for help in sickness of soul or body. And the experience of centuries proves that this confidence is not misplaced. After Mary no one understands more fully the tenderness and mercifulness of the Sacred Heart of Jesus. And those especially who are sick of soul- afflicted with the dread disease of sin- will find in St. Joseph a powerful advocate to obtain for them the grace of perfect conversion.

St. Joseph knows well the joy indescribable which the salvation of a sinner brings to Jesus, and since he loves his dear Foster-Son with all the intensity of his strong nature, he works unceasingly to win back erring souls and present them to Jesus.

The Prodigal Son. Think of the radiant joy of a village wedding; or the intense feeling in the home circle when the father recovers from illness; or the relief we have felt when some great trouble was unexpectedly lifted off our shoulders. Such, Jesus tells us, is the relief to His Heart when a sinner comes back to Him, resolved to serve Him fervently in future. On the one hand He paints very vividly the wretchedness of the poor prodigal; and on the other hand the wholeheartedness, the boundless goodness of the father, not merely patiently receiving the boy, but quivering with joy because of his return, and enriching him with the very best gifts in order to show his gladness. The fatted calf is killed to make the household a feast; the best robe is brought forth to cover the boy’s wretchedness and nakedness; a ring is to adorn his finger as a sign that he is the honored guest, and there are shoes for his feet to help him to take part in the dance. The father does not wish him to live depressed and gloomy, but bids him to rejoice over his own safe homecoming and over his father’s love. Who should more intensely rejoice over the sinner’s return than the sinner himself?

One of the sweetest joys of heaven will be the thought that, although we sinned, yet we have escaped the doom we richly deserved, that we are safe with Him! We shall exult to think that we have not lost Him, that He is ours, for ever and for ever irrevocably!

Royal Gifts. I say we repentant sinners have the best right to rejoice. For now we have His shining silken robe, the royal robe of Grace upon us, which gleams and sparkles in the sun of His Presence in every action that we perform. We have the jewelled ring of His seven Gifts marking us as His guests and specially honored friends. We have the shoes of His actual supernatural help given to enable us to run rejoicingly in His commandments and holy service. Surely it is matter for exultation that He thus stoops to us; that He is thus gentle and kindly and respectful towards us. All the refinement that charms us in others is but a ray of the gentle, exquisite courtesy that Jesus shows to us. His love refines the soul; and those that love Him deeply are usually very gentle. How unbecoming would gloom and sadness be in those that are thus clad and thus honored, as if a bride and bridegroom should show a gloomy countenance on the wedding morning! For us every day is a wedding day, our soul’s bridal honors may be kept ever fresh, we may have eternal spring in our hearts, if we are but ever intent on loving Him well and profiting by His gifts.

“I Came to Cast Fire.” In this parable Jesus sums up all that is strongest and best and most touching in human affection, in order to give us some concept of the great love of His own Heart. When we meet persons without bitterness, who are free from suspicion, who have no lurking resentment in their eyes, but have a sincerely loving heart full of genuine tenderness, making allowance for every weakness, encouraging and consoling, how they win us! And that multiplied a million-fold is what Jesus is. What it must have been to meet Him, to know Him, to listen to Him speaking of Charity! If men flamed up with a great fire as they listened to Peter the Hermit or Bernard or Ignatius or Francis Xavier, what was it to listen to Jesus Christ speaking about His love and telling of the fire He came to cast upon the earth, the fire He so longed to see enkindled in the souls of men?

6. ST. JOSEPH, PATRON OF THE DYING

St. Joseph has a unique claim to the position of patron of a happy death, since he died the most blessed of deaths, assisted when dying by Jesus, his Judge, and Mary, his Judge’s Mother. Hence the children of the Church have ever specially turned to him with trust when praying for the grace of dying in God’s grace and of securing that peace of conscience and spirit of trust that will counteract the terror that naturally assails the soul when it has to face the great passage from time to eternity.

The soul that is nearing the end of its pilgrimage has special difficulties to face—viz., the weariness and heaviness and despondency that result from sickness; the attacks of the demons, who are more earnest and persistent when death approaches, in order, if possible, to make the soul relax its grip upon God just when it is about to enter into possession of Him for ever. The weakness of physical nature (which we call sickness) and the strength of spiritual foes call for some special assistance; and hence St. Joseph, as patron of a happy death, is also the hope of the sick and the terror of demons. He is the hope of the sick, for they turn and see him holding the sweet Babe in his arms, and that sight gives them courage.

This kindly old man with the Omnipotent Child gives them new strength, and revives Faith and Hope and Charity in the soul; and just because of this the demons dread him, and dread devotion to him; and they do their best to spread lies about St. Joseph and the effect of devotion to him. One common notion they sedulously propagate is this, that if you pray to St. Joseph he sends you crosses; and one meets not infrequently people who are actually afraid to turn to St. Joseph in their troubles lest a worse thing befall them!

This spreading of false reports is surely a proof that the demons dread his influence! And so, as patron of a happy death, as the saint who by his prayers secures that supreme grace for his clients, he is the Protector of Holy Church, guarding her interest at the moment which is of greatest importance in the life of the Church’s children, keeping ward and watch at the portal between time and eternity, and snatching from destruction the souls that, at that narrow gate, are in risk of being torn from the Church for ever.

7. TERROR OF DEMONS

The devil’s efforts are directed chiefly to make men turn away fro m God. It matters little whether he effects this by attacking their Faith, making them deny God; or their Hope, leading them to despair; or their Charity, by inducing them to live in sin; provided he can get God out of their lives. Our efforts must be to turn constantly and resolutely to God, to force ourselves to think of Him, in spite of the alluring voices of creatures that would entice us away from Him. In this life-struggle one of our best helpers is St. Joseph, who is the terror of demons on account of the power of his intercession to obtain graces for his clients to lead them to holiness.

The Omnipotent Child refuses nothing to His Foster Father, to whom He—God- owes a debt of gratitude that He- God-like- will go on paying for all eternity.

Let us study a remarkable scene in which Jesus Himself teaches His friend St. Peter a striking lesson in this matter of unhesitating faith and trust. It is told in the fourteenth chapter of St. Matthew’s Gospel. The disciples were on the Lake at dead of night- tossed by the fierce west wind and rowing desperately to make Capharnaum. Suddenly in the darkness a ghostlike figure looms up walking over the waves; and they cry out in terror. Then they hear a Voice: “Be of good heart; it is I, be not afraid,” and they knew it was the Master. But Peter leaping up cries out: “Lord, if it be thou, bid me come to thee upon the waters.” Peter seeing Jesus but dimly still doubts and asks for a sign—and a wonderful one- to prove His presence. And when Peter cried out, immediatelyJesus caught him and said: “O thou of little faith, why didst thou doubt?” Without delay Jesus helps him. So I must lean on Him, and in spite of the obscurity of time, which makes it hard to see Him, reach out to Him by faith. It is even thus Jesus comes to us in our trials suddenly and yet dimly, demanding a certain ready act of faith on our part. We have to be daring, in order to reach Him; sometimes must risk life itself, as Peter did, and then, when we take the plunge, when we step away from the boat of creature comforts on to the unstable, dancing waters of faith, we feel His strong hand and hear His strong, cheering voice in the gloom, and know in very truth it is He, and no ghost. What music that voice made in Peter’s ears on that stormy night!

The Sea of Life. The tossing sea for me is the round of daily life with its ups and downs, and my walking on waves consists in boldly facing my duty for His sake. I see Him dimly across the waters of time, and to get to Him I am trying to walk those waves; it is for His sake I am doing my work. He, too, is walking that sea of duty, and by His strength I shall succeed in keeping afloat; and if the wind is strong then, if I call, He will at once reach out and hold me in His strong grasp. “Recollection” is just this peering through the gloom to catch the form of Jesus; at times we see Him, then again He is hidden; but in every circumstance of life we must keep on trying to see Him.

Jesus on the Waters. How cold and desolate Peter would have felt if Jesus were not there, if it had been merely an imagination, a phantom on the waters! What a bleak and hopeless thing life is—a barren waste of waters—when there is no Jesus nearing in the gloom! And how the black is turned into gold, and the sullen, stormy night to a radiant summer’s morning, when Jesus speaks! How we forget the sorrow and the misery when we have Him in the boat with us! And the glorious thing is that He wants to be with me, and He wants my soul to be His Bride, with my heart fixed on Him in every change and chance of life. And so, at every turn of the road of life, I have Him, in the Blessed Sacrament or in the poor- dimly shadowed forth in either case- walking across the sea of time, to be reached by an act of faith; for the same impulse that drove Peter out on the sea will help us to plunge through the darkness of the Sacramental covering, and so reach Jesus dimly hidden in that sacred blackness, or else to pierce through the thick obscurity of poverty and rags, and behind that veil see Jesus Himself, who lives for us in the poor. And, as it needed courage on Peter’s part to cry out, “Lord, if it be Thou, bid me come to Thee upon the waters,” so it needs courage to pierce the shroud of bread and wine, or of rags and poverty, nakedness and homelessness, sickness and misery, that hides Jesus from us. By these two veils, the Sacramental veil and the veil of poverty, Jesus tests our faith. If you ask why, I ask, Why this scene in Galilee? Why the dim, sudden apparition barely discernible in the gloom, the stealing form that frightened His friends and led to Peter’s tremendous leap? It was, I take it, to stir up Peter’s will, to rouse the man to a sublime act of faith. If so, Christ’s plan of living in the Blessed Sacrament and living hidden in the poor and the homeless and the sick, is to stimulate our wills, and to spur us on to strong acts of faith. The Blessed Sacrament and the poor are two touchstones testing the souls of men, two rocks on which we either suffer hopeless shipwreck or else get firmly anchored, so as to belong to God and possess Him forever.

8. PROTECTOR OF HOLY CHURCH

A patron, according to Roman usage, was one on whom a client leaned for support, direction and help in difficulties. St. Joseph is patron of the Universal Church, and also patron of the Blessed Sacrament. The Eucharistic Presence of Jesus constitutes the very life of the Church. It is the bond of union that links together into one mystical body the souls that belong to Jesus. To have deep unshaken faith in the presence of Jesus beneath the Sacramental veils, to assist daily at the Sacrifice of the Altar as if one were standing on Mount Calvary watching the Crucifixion, to partake of Christ’s Body and Blood, and so become one with Him in intimate, personal union, to walk in the light streaming from the glorified countenance of the Risen Master and taste the fragrance of His Divine Presence- all that wonderful intercourse and communion with Him which the Eucharist makes possible for us—that it is that constitutes the great secret of Christ’s chosen friends on earth. They walk, indeed, amidst a pagan world—surrounded by men that are blind to the things of faith; they move about amongst those who have only deaf ears for the Gospel teaching; but amidst the coldness, listlessness, contemptuous scorn of unbelievers the fervent soul walks with Jesus and feeds hungrily on His Royal Presence.

And this internal activity of the soul, this mystical union with the God-Man veiled in the darkness and silence of the Eucharist lies at the heart of Catholicism, and is the secret source of the supernatural strength whereby the children of Jesus overcome the world. His prayer to the Eternal Father has secured this supreme benefit for them.

St. Joseph’s Task. Now, St. Joseph’s task is to foster this devotion, to promote this union with Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament, and by doing so he is fulfilling his duty as Patron of the Church.

It may seem strange to speak of St. Joseph as Patron of the Blessed Sacrament; in other words, as Patron or protector of Jesus Himself. And strange it would be unless we knew Joseph was appointed by God Himself to be Foster Father, protector, guardian and educator of Jesus when He was a Child on earth. Then it was that Joseph was first appointed Patron of the Church, when the Church consisted of three members—Jesus, Mary and Joseph. For though Jesus is the Founder of the Church, He is also its most illustrious Member; just as St. Francis, St. Dominic, or St. Ignatius, whilst founders were also members of the Orders they created. The very existence of the Church at that time was dependent on the fidelity of the village carpenter- Joseph of Nazareth.

This is indeed a mystery of divine condescension, a part of that marvellous “emptying of Himself” which the Incarnation of the Word involves. Jesus assuredly needed no human brain to guide His steps—no human hands to toil for Him. He who clothes the lilies and feeds the ravens would scarcely be without resources to supply His own wants. Yet, His plan was to lean on others, to practise submission and obedience, and so teach us humility, not merely by word, but by the irresistible argument of example. This conduct of Jesus- the Man-God- in thus living the life of an apprentice, carrying out dutifully the behests of the master-carpenter Joseph, has done more to make obedience and submission easy for our proud nature than all the teachings of all the moralists and philosophers that have ever lived.

The Nazareth of the Eucharist. Thus it was when Jesus lived His hidden life with His parents at Nazareth, and fed their souls by His daily Presence. And now that He is living His other hidden life in the Nazareth of the Eucharist, and still teaching us lessons of humility and obedience by His example, Joseph has also his part to play in this new childhood life of the Man-God.

For we may dare to say that Jesus is eternally a Child. Has He not said to all: “Unless you become as little children you cannot enter into the Kingdom of Heaven?” And will He not Himself be the first to carry out this injunction? Will not Jesus of Nazareth be, in the most perfect sense, a childlike soul, that He, too, may share most fully in the Kingdom of God?

The word “child” may be used in different senses or connotations: Sometimes it is used to indicate lack of physical development in body or soul. So we speak of an adult whose mental growth has been arrested as being very childish. And when used in this way the word implies imperfection- it indicates that the nature of the person in question has not grown or expanded in the normal way.

A Childlike Soul.But the word “child” may also be taken in a very different sense: namely, when it is used to connote the qualities that constitute the perfection, the charm, the irresistible attractiveness and loveliness of childhood. These qualities, although they so often disappear as years advance, still sometimes are preserved in spite of the assaults of worldliness andso we get a “childlike” soul.

It is not fewness of years nor an undeveloped state of body or mind that constitute childhood in this sense, but rather a certain freshness of spirit that remains unspoiled by contact with the things of life. Usually as years advance, passions develop and the attraction of material things, the lure of gold, the enticements of pleasure, the white glare of honor, gradually ensnare and enslave the soul, so that it becomes worldly and “grown up” in the evil sense of the term. The freshness of innocence is lost- the soul is defiled with the dust of earth, and is childlike no longer.

Now, using “childhood” in the higher and nobler sense, we repeat that Jesus remains eternally a Child. His gaze is ever fixed steadfastly on that Vision Beautiful, the contemplation of which keeps the soul tender. Sordid inclinations and choices that soil and weaken the soul had no power over Him. His Heart was ever fresh, stainless, pure as clearest crystal. No untruth, no unworthy suspicion, no harsh judgment, no unkind word, no evil thought ever marred the perfect serenity of His soul.

Christ’s Humility. And there was (and is) ever in Him that attitude or disposition that is peculiarly characteristic of the child- namely, trustful humility. Although conscious of His position, although bold and uncompromising in asserting His claim to the most astounding dignity possible to a creature- still He was ever exquisitely humble, with the simple, unaffected humility of the child. He came- so He tells us—to be our servant. Try to realise what this means. Think of the awful majesty that belongs to Him as Lord of creation- and then weigh the meaning of these words: “I have come not to be ministered to, but to be the servant of all.” And our Servant He has remained ever since. In the Sacrament of Penance He is ever at our beck and call. In the Eucharist He is ever waiting to do our bidding. He died upon the Cross to render us service- just as the men that fell at Gallipoli or on the fields of Flanders died to render us service.

And so His childhood continues in the Blessed Sacrament forever. And St. Joseph still has his part to play in guarding Him there.

Wisely, then, the Church calls St. Joseph her Patron; wisely, each year she reminds her children of this title on the feast of his Patronage; and wisely too shall we act if we choose St. Joseph in a special way to be our Patron, and beg him to fulfil for us the Patron’s duty of furthering our interests at the Court of the Royal Child who paid him such marvellous honor as holding for Him the place of His Father in heaven.

Imprimi Potest: Edward C. Phillips, S.J., Praep. Prov. Marylandae Neo-Eboracensis

Nihil Obstat; Arthur J. Scanland, S.T.D., Censor Liborum.

Imprimatur: Archbishop Patrick Cardinal Hayes, Archiepiscopus Neo-Eboracensis ********

Saint Joseph’s Dignityand Spiritual Greatness

BY REV. ALBERT POWER, S.J., M.A. (1930)

INDEX

I. SAINT JOSEPH

GOD”S plan in the Incarnation was to become a man, one of ourselves, and by living amongst us to show us how to sanctify our lives. Now social life is founded on the family. We do not come into the world as independent units, each standing by himself, with no essential relationship to others. We are members of a family, sprung from, and therefore dependent upon, father and mother. The tie that binds the family together is the tie of love. That is the invisible bond, stronger than steel, that welds the human race into a social system. Family affection plays the part in the moral world that gravity or molecular attraction plays in the material world. Without the cohesion which molecular attraction gives, the world would be mere chaos; cohesion is essential to order, and order is essential to proper development and existence. When Jesus came to found His supernatural system (or religion), it was to be based on the natural order, and, therefore, He, too, would be a member of a family. He might have appeared on earth, as Adam did, created directly by the hand of God, with no ties of blood to link Him to the race. But so He would not have been in the full sense one of ourselves, flesh of our flesh, and bone of our bone; nor would His plan of coming to win us by human tenderness, and the irresistible appeal of generous, unstinted affection have been realised. We are not easily won; we do not easily believe people’s protestations; we judge people by their lives-their acts, their conduct-rather than their words. It would not have been easy for Jesus to convince us of the tenderness and depth of His human affection had He appeared other than as a loving son and member of a human family.

The Child’s First Duty . Moreover, Jesus came to observe in its perfection the great precept of the law: “Honor thy father and thymother.” This is the shape in which the ever-pressing and universal precept of charity first comes into play in the individual human life. The child’s first conscious duty is to its parents; after them it comes in contact with the rest of the world. Hence, the Fourth Commandment of the Decalogue, which is the first of those dealing with our duties to our fellow-creatures, is the pivot of human society, which no individual that reaches the use of reason can escape. Hence, it was essential that Jesus should observe this commandment perfectly. This is why St. Joseph plays such an essential part in carrying out Our Lord’s scheme of redemption. St. Joseph helps us to know more perfectly the human side of Christ. Our Lord has two natures, and the Divine Person came to manifest Himself to us in His double nature both as God and as man. It is necessary for us to know Him under both aspects. If we neglect His divinity we profit no more by His life than by that of any other merely human hero whose virtues attract us. If we neglect His humanity we lose the chief argument for trusting His mercy, since He became man in order to be our friend, to sympathise with us, and to share our trials and sufferings which He could not do as God.

Christmas Bells . Now, by knowing St.Joseph, by understanding his position in Christ’s family, we learn better and more deeply how humanly tender and loving Jesus is. We can think of Jesus apart, and independently of all others, because He is God, all-sufficient and infinite. But we cannot think of St. Joseph, at least as the object of religious reverence, except as the intimate friend of Jesus and Mary. Moreover, St. Joseph is connected exclusively with the child life of Jesus. When Jesus has come to man’s estate Joseph is no longer there. Hence, devotion to St. Joseph fixes our attention on the infant and child life of Our Lord. Now, it was a part, and one of the most astounding parts, of the great scheme of salvation which the Incarnation unfolded, that God was to appear in the midst of a sin-laden world as a little Babe, born in poverty and suffering and humiliation, and this apparition of God as a child was to occupy the attention of mankind for all time to come. Ceaselessly, until time shall be no more, the Christmas bells are to ring out and remind us that God was born in a stable, became a little weeping Babe, was carried about at His Mother’s breast, was wrapped in poor swaddling clothes, and lay shivering in a manger. I say this extraordinary scene is to rivet men’s attention; they must never be allowed to forget it, or to forget the details of the scene, because this scene was part of God’s scheme for teaching men to trust Him, “Dic animae meae, sales tea ego sum,” prays the Psalmist: “Do thou, O God, whisper to my soul;, I am thy salvation,” and this whispered word is God’s supreme message to the sin-laden soul. It is also the glorious lesson of the Nativity and infant life of the Divine Word. His baby lips repeat these sweet and comforting words to each of our souls,”Sales tea ego sum.” In spite of sin, in spite of oppressive temptation, amidst the storms of the world’s hatred and the devil’s persecution, I who am Omnipotent, I am thy Salvation, thy Strength, thy Comfort.”

His First Disciples .God’s way is to use human instruments to do His work, both natural and supernatural. Though He alone makes the corn to grow, and fills the grape with wine, and the rose with beauty and fragrance, still man must till the ground and labor strenuously if he would profit by the stores which earth holds in safe keeping. In like manner, human instruments are required to sow and to reap the harvest of the spiritual world. Later on, when grown to man’s estate, Jesus will choose a few fisher folk and constitute them His Apostles, to carry His message of peace to the great, wide world as heralds of the living God, inviting men to His heavenly banquet. But at this earlier stage of His work His chosen instruments, His sole companions and friends, are Mary and Joseph. Later on He will extend the circle of His friendship, since all His conquests are made by affection; but as a child He must first of all play the part of the dutiful son. He will appeal first to children, and teach them how to walk perfectly. The child is father to the man. “Salvation depends chiefly on the education of the child,” says the Ven. Pere Baudouin. The world’s history is shaped by its teachers. Get into your hands the training of the children of a nation, and you have that nation’s future in your keeping.

The Model Child. So Jesus of Nazareth was, first and foremost, the model child. His public life, the part He played as a citizen, as a member of His nation, as a preacher to the public, lasted but three years. His private life as child and man, living the ordinary obscure life of a country village artisan, lasted thirty years. In the history of the earthly career of Jesus of Nazareth the story of His Passion and Death is the part that has most occupied the attention of the world. But the story of His infant and child life must also be kept vividly fresh in men’s minds, and St. Joseph is, with Mary, God’s chief instrument to bring about this result. Devotion to Mary and Joseph secures the constant pondering over these scenes; and this constant meditating on the story of Christ’s coming amongst us is ever educating our souls for the life of direct intercourse with God which is to be our destiny hereafter.

God’s Ways . We are being trained to know God better through the Child Jesus in His relationship to His parents. We see God there holding intercourse with His creatures, and our ideas about God are moulded by witnessing that intercourse. It is so unlike what men expected! The angels” song, resounding over the hills of Bethlehem, and bidding the poor to rejoice because glad tidings have come, gives us the keynote of Christ’s teaching. The lesson is being driven home that the road back to God is through poverty and suffering and humiliation; that God loves the poor, that riches and pride and self-sufficiency are hindrances to intercourse with Him; that when the Infinite God came to soften the hard heart of the pagan world, when He came to purify the sensual heart of the pleasure-loving world, when He came to humble the pride of the domineering lords of earth, His wisdom could devise no surer method than the foolish way of suffering and poverty and self-annihilation. His infinite power could find no more efficacious way than to exhibit Himself in a state of utter weakness, dependent for everything upon His own creatures, His very life trembling in the balance from the ruthless jealousy of an earthly despot. Devotion to Mary and Joseph keeps ever strongly before us the fact that the way to success in God’s Kingdom is not the way to success in earthly kingdoms: it emphasizes the principle so definitely enunciated by Jesus in later life: “ Whosoever humbles himself like this little child is the greatest in the Kingdom of Heaven.” This, then, is St. Joseph’s place in Christ’s plan. In order that Jesus may be a perfect Son, St. Joseph is to act as His earthly father, and in order that the memory of the infant life of Jesus may be kept ever fresh in men’s minds, they are to go back in loving reverence to study the place St. Joseph held in the affection of the Divine Child.

The Art of Prayer. Those aiming at perfection of soul have other strong reasons for cultivating devotion to St. Joseph. If you would acquire proficiency in any art or science, you consult those that are already expert in that art or science. And the more difficult and high the subject matter, the more necessity there is for a skilled guide. Now, the art which those that aim at perfection are bent on acquiring is the sublimest of all arts, the art of prayer; the science which is their business in life is the supreme science whose subject matter is the Being of God. Consequently, they need to have experienced guides, and, after Mary, none is more expert in this science than St. Joseph, since none lived in such close, direct and constant intercourse with the God-Man. Hence, if we are wise, we shall constitute ourselves his pupils, we will enter his school, and seek his direction. The example of the saints encourages us to do this. They practised devotion to St. Joseph, and glorious results were the reward of their love and, reverence for him.

2. ILLUSTRIOUS SON OF DAVID

From long ages the prophecy had been handed down that the Messias was to spring from the seed of David, the great hero-king to whom the Jews looked back with such pride. Joseph was of the royal blood of David, and, as legal father of Jesus, handed on to Him as his adopted son all the rights which he himself inherited.

Mary, too, was of royal lineage, and through her the blood of David actually flowed in Christ’s veins. King David’s chief claim to be remembered gratefully by men is this: that for nigh three thousand years he has taught the world to pray. No aspirations ever penned by man, probably, have been so widely and so fruitfully used as the hymns of the Royal Psalmist; and if to pray aright is to love God aright, and if to love God aright is to fulfil the object of our existence, then David, more than most men, has contributed to the final and essential welfare of mankind. And that splendid work St. Joseph has carried on under the New Dispensation since he is pre-eminently the Patron of Prayer.

Prayer the Tonic of Life. All things are promised to prayer; and it is within the reach of all; like the atmosphere, essential and yet always available unless we put obstacles in the way. In spite of the fact that fresh bracing winds are blowing on land and sea-free for all to enjoy-a great many people die from want of sufficient oxygen. If fresh air is breathed, it cleanses and purifies the blood; and we have but to take measures to place ourselves within its sphere of influence by going out on mountain or ocean, and it does its work silently, imperceptibly, but surely. So with prayer. God’s presence and influence work even such purifying, exhilarating, elevating effects on our souls if we do not hinder that work by shutting out His influence; and, like pure air, His grace works silently, imperceptibly, but most efficaciously.

Turning to prayer is for the soul what going for a long walk on the mountains is to the body and its life. Our spiritual being, the supernatural, elevated, highest life of our soul, breathes deep draughts of nourishing, cleansing, strengthening air on God’s mountains. We frequent these glorious elevated solitudes so seldom and so unwillingly! We take our souls for long walks so rarely! Yet our soul needs these excursions if its life is to be vigorous; it needs the bracing views it gets from those spiritual heights, the buoyancy to be derived from that clear, clean atmosphere. That is how saints thrive-by taking constant long walks of this kind; they live ever on the move, ever out on the mountains, shunning corrupted, tainted air like a pestilence-i.e., the corrupted air of physical pleasures and sin. To them such exercise becomes an absolute need, just as to Sir Walter Scott long rambles across mountains and moors were a necessity of his physical being, and to those glorious rambles we owe his wonderful books. Just so the spiritual pedestrian, the lover of spiritual mountain climbing, the soul that is ever dreaming of God’s heights where the blue heavenis so grand, gets the power of arresting men’s attention, of weaving into attractive forms the romance of God’s love, from these excursions in the realm of prayer.

Prayer in Desolation . But the mountains are not always dipping their heads in liquid blue; the grey clouds often settle down, wrap the earth closely like a mantle, and then mountain climbing is not so pleasant! But the bracing air is there all the same; though filled with mist, its purity and cleansing power are not lessened. No wonder St. John of the Cross, St, Teresa, and those that have trod the heights are enthusiastic about prayer. We fools, that burrow in some dark hovel and hide our heads from the blue sky and our lungs from the clean air and then wonder it is not well with us! How vast a multitude pass from the cradle to the tomb, and never know that there is a material world of mountain scenery and fresh bugle winds and blowing flowers-a world of forest and lake covered with radiant green in spring, with rich gold in summer and autumn-live and die buried in human traps and pits of squalor and filth and vice! But how much greater is the multitude that in like manner pass through life to the tomb and hardly realise that there is a world of prayer where every soul created can bask in the sunshine of God’s love, can taste the sweets of His presence, can draw vigor from the bracing winds of His grace, can feast their souls on the flowers of infinite variety that spring up at His smile!

The saints were wise! The world notes only the blows of the discipline, and the macerated, fast-worn features, but knows nothing of the soul’s secret food, of the manna that to the saints is sweeter a thousand times than all the gross pleasures this life can afford.

The backwoodsman in Texas or Canada does not work harder than the mechanic in a steel factory in Sheffield; the difference is in the atmosphere that each breathes: the one all the time drinking in air that is like champagne, the other filling his lungs with steel dust. So the difference between saint and sinner. Exteriorly they both do the same amount of work (or perhaps the sinner slaves more), but what a difference in the spiritual atmosphere! The saint at every breath draws in deep draughts of the strong air of God’s love, and feasts his eyes at every pause in his work on the sunlit plains of God’s beauty; the sinner fills his soul with the poison that envelops the sinful pleasures of this world. Mortification means the effort necessary to get away from the haunts of worldliness and climb the mountains to the fresh air of God.

3. SPLENDOR OF PATRIARCHS

A man is called Light on account of the beneficent influence he sheds around by his virtues, learning, or other qualities. His effect is like that of light-viz., to draw things into being, to cause the flowers of the soul or heart or intellect to bloom and give forth fragrance. Light produces beauty on land and sea, and so a man of God, a man whose heart is a lamp to others because it is filled with light at the furnace of God Himself, produces beauty in those he influences. He makes their lives beautiful; the hard, rugged places become softened and mellowed by his presence, and under his benign influence the flowers of grace spring up, which make the poor, barren lives so gracious and fragrant. That is why we call St. Joseph Lumen Patriarcharum. He is a shining light amongst the forerunners of Christ, himself of the blood of Abramand Isaac and Jacob and David, one of the great pillars in that long line of God’s servants who lived looking for Jesus; and if Moses led the Israelites, God’s people, through the desert to the Land of Promise, Joseph led another community, that was in a more special way God’s people, through the desert of life; nay, Joseph led God Himself through the desert to the Land of Promise, that is, to the hearts of His faithful ones. And if Jesus turned to Peter for consolation in the Garden, how often must He have turned to Joseph during the long years of His youth and manhood?

GOD’S SAINTS . THOSE HEROES OF JEWISH HISTORY WERE MEN ON WHOM GOD SHOWERED HIS SPIRITUAL GIFTS; THEY WERE SAINTS: AND AMONGST THOSE SAINTS JOSEPH OF NAZARETH STANDS PRE-EMINENT

Now, in the saints” lives, as in the life of every individual, two forces are constantly at work in the process of moulding the supernatural character-namely, God’s grace and man’s co-operation; the Master offering His help ceaselessly to elevate and strengthen the human will and enable it to elicit supernatural acts: and the creature using this gracious help and freely turning it to good account, by eliciting the sublime acts which this special aid makes possible. We scan the lifehistory of our heroes and note lovingly, on the one hand, the marks of God’s special favor-the exterior signs of the special providence exercised over them by God; and on the other we see how these favors were used-that is, how the saints practised the virtues that constitute the adornment of life.

These virtues we, too, have to practise as best we may, and we are helped in our efforts most of all by the sight of those that have gone before and been victorious in the struggle. No one ought to be better able to teach us how to love Jesus than St. Joseph, who knew Him so intimately.

Our Thirst for God . Our whole being is crying out for God. In the depths of our souls there is a thirst for God, that no finite thing can satisfy. When in our desperate efforts to find comfort in creatures, we pour out our hearts on some person or pursuit or pleasure in this world, we are striving to allay the gnawing of that hunger for the Infinite God that is deep down in our hearts. Just as starving wretches in a besieged city will try to satisfy their hunger on leather or other things unfit for human food, so we, blind to the fact that the strong living God alone is the bread to nourish us and satisfy our hunger, turn to earthly pleasures for relief. But they will never satisfy us. What a wonderful thing it is that we, finite creatures, should be so bent on possessing the Infinite Beauty! This hungry soul is myself: it is I who can never be satisfied until I possess God; and that hunger which we so misinterpret here below will, if left unsatisfied, be our hell hereafter.

The Babe Divine. Filled with these thoughts we stop and think. This Babe whom St. Joseph is so solicitous about; this Babe whose eyes are looking into mine with such tenderness and love; this Babe born in poverty, a poor woman’s Son, hurrying across the desert in terror of Its life before an earthly king; this Babe is the infinitely beautiful God: the God I am longing for, the God who alone can make me happy, the God whom I am in existence to serve and love and glorify. That is our Christian faith Surely St. Joseph’s office is a noble one: to stand on guard at the entrance to the court where Jesus gives audience to His friends! And he is rightly called Splendor of Patriarchs. The Old Testament Patriarchs looked forward to the future Messias-the Anointed of God whose coming would bring deliverance to His people. But the Patriarch St. Joseph actually ushered the Messias into the world, was chosen to be His closest and most intimate friend, to share His secrets, to co-operate with Him, as no one else except Mary His Mother ever cooperated, in the work of saving mankind from sin.

4. SPOUSE OF THE MOTHER OF GOD

St. Joseph was Spouse of God’s Mother- i.e., her earthly spouse, with the title of husband; but by a wonderful anomaly also Guardian of her Virginity. Just as in Mary are combined miraculously two seemingly incompatible things, motherhoodand virginity; so in Joseph, to be her husband and yet shield of his wife’s virginity. He was Spouse of a Virgin-Mother.

It was a marvellous position for a man to occupy, and we know what it meant for St. Joseph. He was constantly thrown into circumstances that called for the exercise of heroic and blind trust in God. If we reflect on the story of his doubts and hesitation as told in the first chapter of St. Matthew, which it required a special revelation to dispel; on the story of the journey to Bethlehemand the flight to Egypt, we shall see how his position as Mary’s Spouse, as the man to whose loyalty God entrusted His most precious jewel, demanded the most heroic exercise of the virtue of hope.

God leaves no one without a friend: and so Mary had hers -and Joseph was the chosen man. What a dignity! what purity, truthfulness, goodness, love of God must have filled his heart to make him a fit companion for her!

But it was not only during her lifetime on earth that St. Joseph was guardian of the Virgin Mary-he has continued his work of defending her honor ever since in the life of the Church: that is a part of his duty as Patron of the Church.

We know how the saints have spoken of the importance in our lives of devotion to Our Lady; how they regard this devotion as a sure mark of predestination, and the absence of it as a very dangerous state of soul. Thus, to take one example, we read: “Among all the virtues upon which St. Francis Borgia laid stress in regard to novices, devotion to the Blessed Virgin stands out most prominently. He considered this devotion an infallible mark of predestination in the Society of Jesus. Those novices who were wanting in this devotion he viewed with no hopeful eye. Francis had during his whole life cherished the tenderest affection for the Queen of Angels. “In all that I try to do for Jesus Christ, in all that I ask of Him I invariably look in a certain sense to Mary also,” he said. There was not a single shrine of Our Lady in Europe at which Francis at some period of his life had not offered a lamp with heartfelt devotion. Not long before his death, in spite of the entreaties of the Pope (Pius V), he had himself carried in a litter to Loreto. He said, “I have received so many and such signal favors that even if I had to crawl thither, it behoves me before I die to go once more to her shrine to hang there an ex voto in token of my gratitude.” “*

Since therefore St. Joseph wishes to benefit souls, he leads them gently and sweetly to the practice of this devotion to Mary. And who should be able to do this more perfectly-since he himself was the first of the human race to be filled with this devotion? To him first of all was divinely revealed the overwhelming dignity to which Mary had been raised. “ Joseph, Son of David fear not to take unto thee Mary thy wife-for that which is conceived in her is of the Holy Ghost.” So the truth flashed home to him. God is coming in person to save the world and * St. Francis Borgia, by A. M. Clarke. Page 271

Mary is miraculously His Mother. Jus t as a few days later the Holy Spirit inspired Elizabeth to recognise Mary’s dignity and salute her as “ the Mother of my Lord “-and to cry out “Blessed art thou amongst women”-so God’s angel revealed to Joseph the fact of Mary’s divine Motherhood-and forthwith there sprang into being in his heart that fire of devotion to the Maiden of Nazareth that has blazed so brightly in the world ever since. To nourish and propagate that fire is a duty of the Catholic Church; but in discharging this duty she is nobly assisted by St. Joseph.

5. CHASTE GUARDIAN OF THE VIRGIN

A multitude of the heavenly army praising God and saying Glory to God in the highest. St. Luke ii., 14. The precious second Chapter of St. Luke’s Gospel gives us a brief glimpse of St. Joseph actively discharging his duties as Spouse and Guardian of the Virgin Mother. There we see him standing on guard by the Manger where the world’s Treasure lies-whilst Heaven’s gleaming armies of bright spirits are heralding His Presence to the astonished country folk.

This burst of heavenly light and angel song that broke so abruptly on the Bethlehem shepherds that winter night, has been a never ceasing source of joy to the world ever since.

It was a revelation-a rolling back of the gates of time-a breaking in of the spiritual world in order to put us in possession of certain facts: or rather of one supreme fact, namely, that the Messias, the Anointed One of God, is born into the world. And this is the central fact of existence for me too: namely, that unto me-for my use and benefit, for my eternal welfare, for the benefit of my soul-has come into the world through a human Mother, a Saviour, a Divine Ambassador, whose definite purpose is to save me for Himself.

Do I realise this: that Jesus is pursuing me in order to catch and hold me as His own forever? He wants to fold me in His arms, to clasp me to His Sacred Heart-as He clasped St. John at the Last Supper-and to be my Friend for all the blissful ages of eternity.

The Good Shepherd. Jesus compares Himself to the shepherd seeking the lost sheep-the woman searching in the dust for her lost coin. The woman’s silver groat is of so much value to her because she is poor. My soul is dear to Jesus; so many refuse to love Him-He has had such terrible losses in the matter of the gold of love. Again He says:-”As Moses lifted up the serpent in the desert (that those bitten by serpents might be healed by gazing upon it)-so must the Son of Man be lifted up (on the cross) that whosoever believeth in Him may not perish, but may have life everlasting.”

Hence the Angel’s message: Fear not, because I bring tidings of great joy: Your Saviour is born: A Saviour who is God’s Anointed One, the Lord of Heaven. Lo! infinite Strength has come to rescue you from your weakness. Light Eternal has come to dispel your darkness: Divine Mercy to wipe away your sins. For this Saviour is God’s Holy Son, the second Person of the Blessed Trinity.

FEEDING THE HUNGRY . LO! I WAS HUNGRY-HUNGERING FOR PEACE AND HAPPINESS-AND JESUS COMES TO FEED ME WITH HIS OWN BODY AND BLOOD

I was thirsty-tormented in the hell of my own desires and passions-and Jesus comes to give me a delicious water that will spring up in my soul unto life everlasting.

I was naked, and He comes to clothe me with the radiant robe of sanctifying grace and to make me resplendent in God’s house, as being God’s honored Guest.

He has shoes too for my feet, to enable me to dance lightly with His friends to the music which He provides: and a golden ring on my finger as token and pledge of his pardon and affection.

I was a stranger, wandering without home or shelter-cast out of Paradise with Adam: and He comes to take me into His own heavenly home that I may share the warmth and brightness, and all the comfort and happiness of His Father’s establishment.

I was sick of soul and this heavenly Physician (as He styles Himself) has come from His heavenly home into this poor cabin of a world in order to visit me and nurse me back to health.

And the Angel at Bethlehem, standing at the gate of heaven (the shepherds saw the light streaming through the open door) announces sweetly and gently the arrival of the Great Physician.

And behold! I am the shepherd listening to this announcement-I am the sick soul thrilled with joy at the news.

Jesus is beginning in His cradle to practise the charity which He preached so strenuously all through life to the poor and suffering.

I was in prison-enslaved by sin and passion and self-seeking-cooped up in the narrow limits of petty, worldly desires and vanity-and Jesus has come to liberate me, to break my chains, to lead me into the open, to expand my soul, and bid me set my heart on God Himself as my possession. Surely then He is a Saviour, coming to take my soul and transfer it to regions of light, health and freedom.

“ Glory to God in the Highest.” And then to prove that He is the Lord Messias, God in Person come on earth-the angel hosts troop down to praise God, and to thank Him for sending Jesus. “ Glory to God in the highest and peace on earth to men of good will.”

Christmas is surely a time of thanksgiving. For if I feel joy (the joy which the angel announced) that to me a Saviour is born, who is God Himself come to my relief, then surely I will praise and thank Him for this Gift?

And I praise God (with the Angels) because in coming as Saviour, Jesus is glorifying His Father, restoring to God the honor of which He was robbed by Adam’s sin, and all that it involved. Jesus has come to set things right at last- to make ample atonement to God’s offended majesty for the injury and insult done to Him by sin.

GLORIA IN EXCELSIS DEO!

High and infinite though God be (in excelsis) still an adequate atonement is now being made for all the glory of which He was robbed. Do I realise the infinite atoning value of each act of worship of the Heart of Jesus? Just as on earth the affection and tenderness of a very dear and valued friend may make up for the harshness and cruelty of many others so-one act of Jesus, the beloved Son of God, can atone for the sins of a world: and His acts are offered up in atonement for my sins and negligence. And as a result of this great Atonement-once we know of it and accept it by faith-Peace comes to the souls that are favored by God.

IN TERRA PAX HOMINIBUS BONAE VOLUNTATIS

Man is created to praise God. Do I thus praise God for the Incarnation? For the fact that Christ’s coming means glory to God and peace on earth? The angels teach us how to praise, and my life should be a constant hymn of thanksgiving for the good news delivered by the Angel at Christmas.

6. FOSTER-FATHER OF THE SON OF GOD

When a father sends his son to be educated abroad, he appoints a tutor to take his place and to be a father to his son, so when the Eternal sent His Son into creation to be trained in a life of poverty and suffering, He selected a tutor for Him-a man to take His own place-and that man was St. Joseph. What a dignity! Educator of the Son of God!

Joseph is the plenipotentiary entrusted by God the Father with His own parental authority over Jesus. The mysterious relationship between Father and Son in the Trinity is beyond all that we can conceive or imagine. The Father is truly Father, although His nature is identical with that of the Son. But in the case of the Man Jesus Christ we understand better what God’s parental authority over Him means. God is the Father of us all, since He created us out of nothing. But in the case of Jesus the parental relationship is something infinitely more wonderful, since the Person Jesus is actually the Son begotten by the Father from eternity. Jesus the Man could say “ My Father “ in a sense different from all other men. Into the interior heart of that mystery we cannot penetrate; but what we can and do say is this: that parental authority, so wonderful, so mysterious, was delegated to Joseph the Carpenter of Nazareth; so that Joseph was in loco parentis, acting as Father to Jesus.

Peter’s Authority . To Peter Jesus committed full power to rule the Church, His mystical Body; but to Joseph God committed full power and authority to rule Jesus Himself, the Head of the Church. Yet what a wonderful power that Petrine authority was-to be the Master of all them that believe! What, then, was it to be the heavenly appointed Ruler and Master of Jesus?

PRIEST’S OFFICE. AGAIN, THE CHURCH HOLDS THE PRIEST’S OFFICE IN SUCH REVERENCE BECAUSE HE HANDLES THE BODY OF

Jesus; he commands that the bread be made the Body of Jesus, and the command is fulfilled. Was not Joseph’s office and authority just like this? He, too, handled the sacred Body of Jesus; he, too, carried Jesus about, cared for Him, issued commands about Him, and his commands were obeyed.

Specially Beloved by God . Joseph was specially loved by God. That alone is a strong reason for his being to us also an object of love and veneration. And that Joseph was specially beloved is very clear from the whole story of his life.

He was chosen, he of all possible creatures, for the sublime office of being Mary’s Spouse and acting Father to Jesus. The bond between Jesus and Mary was unique; they were bound by ties of blood; she was His Mother; her blood ran in His veins; and He was God. We might have thought, perhaps, that this sacred intimacy between earthly Mother and divine Child was too sublime for any other creature whatsoever to be allowed to share in it; that the human relationships of Him who was God must be straitly and strictly confined to that one peerless and Immaculate Virgin who was His Mother. Yet we know that He willed to share the intimacy of that wonderful family life with one other; one soul was privileged to enter into that little family circle and be treated as completely belonging to it, and that one was Joseph, the husband of Mary the Virgin, the friend and intimate companion of Mary the Peerless. Surely that choice is a sign of God’s love for him?

Honored by Jesus. Joseph was loved by Jesus as a father by his child. Joseph was in His heavenly Father’s place, and Jesus was a perfect Son. Hence, Joseph received from Him who is God all the love and reverence due from the most dutiful of children to the most honored and loved of fathers.

Think of what that means! We know the intensity with which loving children are devoted to their parents. Well, multiply that a millionfold, and it may convey some idea of Jesus” devotion to His Foster Father, St. Joseph.

7. ZEALOUS DEFENDER OF CHRIST

Who came and took the Child and His mother by night and retired into Egypt. Matt. ii., 14. Jesus was dependent on St. Joseph for His safety amidst dangers innumerable; it was to St. Joseph’s fidelity and prompt obedience Jesus owed His escape from Herod; it was to St. Joseph’s assiduous care He owed His safety amidst the dangers of the desert road to Egypt.

It seems strange to talk of defending Omnipotence, just as it seems strange to talk of pitying God; yet we know that Our Lord so humbled Himself as actually to crave our sympathy. He made Himself so poor and weak as to need our services; and so, too, He needs a defender. He is a baby, and someone must carry Him; is threatened by murderers, and someone must think and act for Him; and the arms that shielded Him in His hour of danger were those of St. Joseph.

Hence we owe a deep debt of gratitude to St. Joseph for saving for us our great treasure, Jesus; we owe him love for his splendid fidelity to our great Friend.

Joseph, I say, protected the life of Jesus and His Mother by fleeing with them to Egypt-away from Christ’s enemy Herod. But he also saved the life of Jesus in his own soul by fighting against sin-that is by keeping his soul pure, by resisting the temptations to sin in which life is so woefully prolific.

The Herod of the Soul. We too must flee temptation in order to save the life of Jesus within us, we too must retire with Him clasped in our arms into the desert of prayer and penance, lest the Herod of passion, of pride, sensuality, avarice, destroy the Child and His grace within us.

Herod thus stands for all the forces that tend to drive Jesus out of our lives, summed up under three heads: -The World, the Flesh, and the Devil.

The World has its heart set resolutely on the good things of life-the things that appeal to the natural man and tend to obscure the supernatural.

The Flesh has its passions all aflame-eager to secure the things that gratify them.

The Devil is ever urging to despair, blasphemy, contempt of God, denial of truths of faith. He attacks especially the three theological virtues which directly unite the soul to God; and seeks to drive God out of the soul-hence he undermines Faith, filches away Hope, extinguishes Charity.

And to escape this Herod we must steal away in the darkness of night, under cover of prayer-and escape into a land where Herod cannot reach us.

Seven Deadly Sins. The seven chief passions (or “deadly sins” as they are called) may be grouped thus:- covetousness and envy; pride and anger; lust, gluttony, sloth. Covetousness or avarice is an inordinate desire of or hankering after the goods of this world. Envy is sadness arising from regarding another person’s good as a grievance or misfortune to yourself. Pride is an inordinate desire to excel others. It involves a certain rooted conviction of one’s own superiority-a wrong estimate of one’s position; just as humility means a true estimate of one’s own nothingness, weakness, misery, and sinfulness.

Pride is nourished by reflecting frequently on the supposed advantages that go to constitute this superiority, such as family, worldly rank or position, riches-or else personal qualities such as beauty, talents, accomplishments, or one’s achievements in the past.

And pride shows itself in presumption, overweening ambition and vanity, or desire to display one’s qualities. Anger is a commotion of soul rising up to resist an attack on something that one values and fears to lose. So that anger is rooted either in pride or in covetousness. If a man is poor in spirit and humble he will not easily get angry; because he sets little store on those things (riches and reputation) attacks on which provoke anger.

Lust, gluttony and sloth refer to bodily gratifications-the seeking of sensual pleasure or unduly shrinking from exertion and pain.

Hence the three great virtues opposed to these seven passions are Poverty of spirit or detachment from worldly goods; Humility and a childlike spirit; Self-denial practised to secure self-control. And those virtues are constantly and strongly inculcated by Our Blessed Lord:-”Blessed are the poor in spirit. He that humbleth himself like this little child is the greater in the Kingdom of Heaven. He that will come after me must deny Himself. Blessed are the clean of Heart.”

By fighting constantly and vigorously against these evil tendencies in your nature, you are imitating St. Joseph in his office of “Zealous Defender of Christ” since you are saving the life of Jesus within your soul from the machinations of those aggressive foes that are for ever trying to destroy Him.

8. HEAD OF THE HOLY FAMILY

Modern paganism tends to disintegrate family life. Its worst social cankers are divorce and race suicide (abortion -Ed.), and those are such hideous evils just because they strike at the root of family life; since family life is founded on the stability and permanence of the marriage bond: and this bond itself is in existence to safeguard the child. The child is the world’s chief treasure, the most precious jewel in the casket of life. And the safeguarding of children, the restoring of children to their rightful place as the flowers of the moral world, the treasure best worth having and holding and protecting of all earth’s treasures-that was an essential part of Christ’s plan for the regeneration of human society. Callous disregard of child life-which led to the abominable practice of exposing unwanted children and other forms of child murder-stamped the decadent society of Christ’s time. And against all this intolerable state of things He set up His Church-as a bulwark for the protection of children-as a living teacher that would for ever instruct mankind in the meaning and value of the child.

Christ’s Love for Children. And how wonderfully Jesus has spoken about children! What stern threats He utters against those that scandalise them! How tenderly He presents to the world a little child as the model which all must imitate who would win God’s favour!

But then, He was not content with merely speaking wonderful things about the sanctity of childhood and the reverence due to children. He would emphasise the lesson and appeal to us still more forcibly by something far more extraordinary-He becomes a Child Himself!

Christ’s Family . Now, the child connotes the Family: and so Jesus of Nazareth, when He comes into His own creation to set right what human wilfulness has set so terribly wrong, comes as a Member of a Family. And His Church, faithfully interpreting His mind and heart, keeps telling the world about His Family. That is what Catholic devotion to Mary the Mother of Jesus, and to Joseph His Foster Father and head of the Nazareth household, means.

Nay, more; the Church bids us understand that this supreme Family -the Exemplar to which wedded life must conform-will actually open its ranks to receive us, if we will, so that we can be adopted as friends or members or intimate associates of its daily life.

The Sinn er’s Welcome. Moreover, we have another startling thing to say about this Family of Jesus of Nazareth. In St. Luke’s Gospel Our Lord depicts for us in vivid language the homecoming of the repentant sinner-of the man who has offended God deeply by an evil life and now is sorry and seeks reconciliation. The picture which Jesus places before us is that of a family celebrating with feast and song and dance the prodigal’s return; and this, He tells us, is significant of the joy in heaven when a sinner is converted. But in actual fact the family that rejoices to welcome home the poor sinner is the Family of Jesus Himself. It is He who comes forth with eager eyes looking for the repentant prodigal: it is He who folds him in His arms with a warm embrace of welcome and gentle words of forgiveness: it is He who bids a feast be spread and all His friends and servants rejoice to welcome back the straying soul.

A family it is -as we all know to our joy-that creates for us an atmosphere of welcome, happiness and friendship. For a family means a group of people bound together by ties of love. And when they welcome you they open their ranks to give you a share in that blessed, glorious thing of which they are the lawfully appointed guardians in this grim world of ours-viz., Love. When family life wanes, then love also departs. Conjugal love, love of children, parental love, fraternal love-all have their natural home in the family: and outside of the family as safeguarded by Christian marriage, they tend to wither and die.

Th e Church’s Function. Now (as we have said above), the Catholic Church enshrines the memory of the Family of Jesus, and keeps it forever fresh before the world. No other family life has ever been thus made eternally youthful and ceaselessly present to the consciousness of mankind. And this Family is kept thus because of the overwhelming fact that it is through this Family that God comes into our lives, to help us to make a right use of the gift of existence, and to dispose aright of the awful treasure committed to our keeping-viz., our immortal soul.

The Family of Jesus is to receive me and keep me in touch with God: and therefore Mary and Joseph have to play a definite and permanent part in my life, since they, with Jesus, constitute the Divine Family. When God became Man He took up our life as it is-not a far-away, isolated kind of human existence, but simply took up life as He found it, and as we find it.

Now, all men move in the sphere of family life. We do not live as hermits -but in groups. And even thehermit’s life is possible only because family life is all around to make the world habitable for him. The exception proves the rule. Just as the fact that millions of workers are toiling ceaselessly to produce the necessaries of life, makes possible the secluded life of student or professor. Each individual of us is linked up with golden cords of love to our own friends and blood relations: and the whole great world is a web of social connections and mutual dependencies and twining charities of every kind.

His Earthly Presence . And Jesus came into this system, and in asking to share our life and our affections He will have us visit His own Family and love those dear friends whom He loves with all the ardor of a perfectly faithful and dutiful soul.

Hence we can appreciate the dignity conferred upon St. Joseph when he was appointed Head of this Family that is to be, for all time, the model of perfect family life.

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Saint Joseph’s Titles

BY REV. ALBERT POWER, S.J.

INDEX

1. -ST. JOSEPH

TheLitany opens by calling him “Saint.”

It is because he is a Saint we have the right to invoke him-viz., one dear to God; one who has lived his life well and won the prize of existence, and hence now in possession of God; and one about whose possession of God we have certainty, so that we can legitimately hope for his help. But, since canonized saints are to help us not only by prayer, but by the example of their lives, our devotion to them includes two things: praying to them in heaven and studying their virtues when on earth, with a view to imitation. As the artist is ever turning back to his model or the landscape he is painting, so should we turn constantly to those exemplar lives of the saints, as we build up, day by day and act by act, the temple of our soul to please the eye of the Master Architect.

Now, in saints’ lives, as in the life of every individual, two forces are incessantly at work moulding the supernatural character. God’s grace and man’s co-operation; the Master offering His help to elevate and strengthen the human will and enable it to elicit supernatural acts; the creature using this gracious help and freely turning it to good account, by eliciting the sublime acts which this special aid makes possible. We scan the life-history of our heroes and note lovingly, on the one hand, the marks of God’s special favour, the signs of His special providence over them; and on the other we see how these favours were used-how the saints practised the virtues that constitute the adornment of life.

We, too, must practise these virtues as best we may, and are wonderfully helped in our efforts by the example of those that have gone before and been victorious in the struggle.

No one should be better able to teach us to love Jesus than St. Joseph, who knew Him so intimately. The lesson of learning to love Jesus is the one great lesson we have to learn, the pearl of great price for which all else must be sacrificed. We want no ordinary love, but a generous, wholehearted devotion to Him, not from selfish motives, but for His own sake, because of what He is. This devotion means that we have a strong sense of who He is, and that, as we kneel by the crib, or travel with Mary and Joseph across the desert, our hearts are burning to think that this Babe is our Maker.

Our whole being is crying out for God. We may not recognise the fact, but down in the depths of our soul we have a thirst for God, for the strong living infinite God, that no finite thing can satisfy. When in our desperate efforts to find comfort in creatures, we pour out our hearts on some person or pursuit or pleasure in this world, we are striving to allay the gnawing of that hunger in our hearts for the Infinite God. Just as starving wretches in a besieged city try to satisfy their hunger on leather or other things unfit for human food, so we, blind to the fact that the strong living God alone can nourish us, turn to earthly pleasures for relief. But they will never satisfy us. Let us realise how this hunger and thirst for God is pursuing us night and day; let us pause and reflect what a wonderful thing it is that we, poor finite, petty creatures, should be so bent on possessing the Infinite Beauty! This hungry soul is myself; it is I who can never be satisfied until I possess God; and that hunger which we so misinterpret here below, will, if left unsatisfied, be our hell hereafter.

Filled with these thoughts, we stop and think. This Babe whom St. Joseph is so solicitous about; this Babe whose eyes are looking into mine with such tenderness and love; the Babe born in poverty, a poor woman’s Son, being hurried across the desert from the persecution of an earthly king, is the infinitely beautiful God, the God I am longing for, the God who alone can make me happy, the God whom I am in existence to serve and love and glorify.

St. Joseph’s office is a noble one: to stand on guard at the entrance to the court where Jesus gives audience to His friends! To St. Joseph’s hands is committed a noble task-that of presenting Jesus to the world, of protecting Jesus for us!

II -ILLUSTRIOUS SON OF DAVID

During long ages the prophecy was handed down that the Messias was to spring from the seed of David, the great hero-king to whom the Jews looked back with such pride. Joseph was of the royal blood of David, and, as legal father of Jesus, handed on to Him as Foster Son, all the rights he himself inherited.

Mary, too, was of royal lineage, and through her the blood of David actually flowed in Christ’s veins. Perhaps king David’s chief claim to be remembered gratefully by men is this: that for nigh three thousand years he has taught the world to pray. No aspirations ever penned by man, probably, have been so widely and so fruitfully used as the hymns of the Royal Psalmist; and if to pray aright is to love God aright, and if to love God aright is to fulfil the object of our existence, then David, more than most men, has contributed to the final and essential welfare of mankind.

PRAYER THE TONIC OF LIFE

All things are promised to prayer; and it is within the reach of all; like the atmosphere, essential and yet always available, unless we ourselves put obstacles in the way. In spite of the fact that fresh bracing winds are blowing on land and sea-free for all to enjoy-a great many people die from want of oxygen. If fresh air is breathed, it inevitably cleanses and purifies the blood. Give yourself the chance of enjoying copious supplies of pure air by going out on mountain or ocean, and it does its work silently, imperceptibly, but surely. So with prayer. God’s presence works even such purifying, exhilarating, elevating effects on the soul if we do not hinder that work by shutting out His influence. Like pure air His grace works silently, imperceptibly, but most efficaciously.

Turning to pray is for the soul what going for a long walk across mountains is to the body and its life. Our spiritual being breathes deep draughts of nourishing, cleansing, strengthening air on God’s mountains. We frequent these glorious elevated solitudes so seldom and so unwillingly! We take our souls for long walks so rarely! Yet our soul needs these excursions if its life is to be vigorous; it needs the bracing views it gets from those spiritual heights, the buoyancy to be derived from that clear, clean atmosphere. That is how saints thrive-by taking constant long walks of this kind; they live ever on the move, ever out on the mountains, shunning the corrupted, tainted city air like a pestilence-i.e., the corrupted air of physical pleasures and sin. To them such exercise becomes an absolute need, just as to Sir Walter Scott long rambles across mountains and moors were a necessity of his physical being, and to those glorious rambles we owe his wonderful stories. Just so the spiritual pedestrian, the lover of spiritual mountain climbing, the soul that is ever dreaming of God’s heights, acquires a marvellous power of arresting mens’ attention, of weaving into fascinating forms the romance of God’s love for the human soul.

III.-LIGHT AMONGST PATRIARCHS

Lumen Patriarcharum. A man may be called a Light to others when through his virtues, wisdom, elevation and strength of character, he exercises a beneficent, healthy influence on them. His effect is like that of sunshine: he draws out and develops the good qualities in others, causing flowers of the soul-of imagination, mind and heart-to bloom and fill the world with their fragrance. Sunshine kindles beauty on land and sea. So a man of God, one whose heart is a lamp to others because it is filled with light at the furnace of God Himself, produces beauty in those he influences.

That is why we call St. Joseph Lumen Patriarcharum-a shining light amongst the forerunners of Christ. Himself of the blood of Abram and Isaac and Jacob and David, he was one of the great pillars in that long line of God’s servants who lived looking for Jesus. Moses led the Israelites, God’s people, through the desert to the Land of Promise; Joseph led another community, that was in a more special way God’s people, through the desert of life. Nay, Joseph led God Himself through the desert to the Land of Promise, that is, to the hearts of His faithful ones; a land to be conquered by Jesus, this other Josue, by hard fighting and a bitter struggle.

IV. -SPOUSE OF THE MOTHER OF GOD

St. Joseph was the Spouse of God’s Mother, but by a wonderful anomaly also Guardian of her Virginity. Just as in Mary are combined miraculously two seemingly incompatible things, motherhood and virginity; so in Joseph, to be Mary’s husband and yet shield of his wife’s virginity. He was spouse of a Virgin-Mother.

It was a marvellous position for a man to occupy, and we know a little of what it meant for St. Joseph. He was constantly thrown into circumstances that called for the exercise of blind, heroic trust in God. The story of his doubts and hesitation (in St. Matthew, chap. I.), which it required a special revelation to dispel; of the journey to Bethlehem and the flight to Egypt, shows how his position as Mary’s guardian as the man to whose loyalty God entrusted His most precious jewel, demanded the most heroic exercise of the virtue of hope.

The month of March, in lands north of the Equator, is the opening of spring, the ever-recurring childhood and youth of the world, when all that is bright and laughing and beautiful in nature is displayed, and the world hangs out its brightest banners to celebrate the triumphal entry of new life into the chilled limbs of earth. The miracle of Spring, of this leaping up into joyful activity of the numbed things of Winter, is a type of Christianity, an image of the intense life that came coursing into the veins of men and women when the trumpet call of Christ, the clarion bugle-note of His coming, rang through the world; when all the icy, frozen region of sin and death woke to the almost incredible possibility of this new life of grace, of summer days of heavenly love, and a golden harvest of merit, in place of the dreary monotony of sin and self-indulgence. New horizons began to open out, self disappeared because God came on the scene; and the day that Joseph’s heart throbbed with emotion because Mary became his bride, was the beginning of the revolution like the first call of the birds, the first soft, rippling breeze that told that Spring was nigh.

Mary is wedded to Joseph; presently she will be God’s Mother, and then Spring time is mellowing towards Summer. So St. Joseph is the great herald of our salvation, to whom the Immaculate Maid who holds in her hands the destiny of the human race, is given in charge.

V. -FOSTER-FATHER OF THE SON OF GOD

Fosterfather of God’s Son; the visible representative of the real Father, God. When a father sends his son to be educated abroad, he appoints a tutor to take his place, to be in loco parentis; so when the Eternal sent His son into creation to be trained in a life of poverty and misery, He selected a tutor for Him-a man to take His own place-and that man was St. Joseph. What a dignity! Educator of the Son of God!

When we feel a certain repugnance to the poor, the miserable, the diseased, a great tonic lies in the thought that it was just these whom Jesus made His friends; it was to these He was kind and gentle and merciful; it is for being good to these He will reward me. What matter how I feel? Our views are so wretchedly confined, hedged in by the rampart of sensible things that presses on our souls-shutting off wide views as effectually as a dungeon wall cuts off the view of heaven with its myriad flying stars. And we so often accept these cramped views as the whole truth.

How little idea has the slum-bred child of what the universe -its own universe-the universe which it has a right to live in and to contemplate-really is like! Even so, hedged in by the routine and chatter of our daily lives, we go on from year to year passing final judgment on one another, ignorant or careless of the true position of our fellow-men in God’s eyes and God’s plans. The coarse, the degraded, the leprous, the outcast, that are sometimes so repulsive to us, enshrine immortal souls, and are so dear to God that He died for them.

It is the work of prayer to drag us out of this narrow box of thoughts which we build for ourselves, and bring us out into the light of God and make us take supernatural views of our existence. Jesus came into the world to tear to pieces the false tapestries which we weave for ourselves, to pull down the theatre of vanity about our ears and let the light of day into our souls. He had a strong grasp of the central heart of existence and wanted to bring us to get a grasp of it, too. Idolatry is the outward expression of this tendency of man’s soul to build up a sham world of its own and dwell therein contentedly, oblivious of the real facts of existence. The external history of man is an ever-changing, everflowing replica in matter of the movements of the soul.

VI. -HEAD OF THE HOLY FAMILY

“And He went down with them and came to Nazareth, and was subject to them.” Luke ii., 51. This little household circle is to be the model for all time of family life. Father, mother, and children knit together in bonds of Christian charity are to look back to this group for their spirit; and the head of the house is Joseph. We measure the confidence we place in others by the value of the things we entrust to their care. If we send away jewellery or other precious things, we select trusty persons to be our messenger. Parents will give beloved children into the keeping of those only on whom they can implicitly rely. Measured by this test, how God trusted St. Joseph, placing under his care the greatest and most valued of His treasures: Mary, His best-beloved Spouse, and Jesus, His Son!

A breath from a life full of confidence is balm to our souls -like the fragrance from the Spice Islands borne to sailors on ocean breezes, suggesting endless vistas of delightful shady groves and luscious golden fruit. So a touch of this great Trust opens up new worlds to our souls.

This explains the power of such books as “The Story of the Little Flower of Jesus”; it thrills the soul like the first touch of Spring after a long, hard winter; it sets vibrating in our hearts the chord of love. We turn as inevitably to this light as the flowers to the sunshine; we drink in words that speak of God as greedily as the desert drinks in rain, or a lover drinks in the praise of his beloved. Words about God affect us if they can pierce through the rind of our worldliness and get at our hearts. Often evil habits, strong passions and multiplied sins bury the poor soul, and the light of God’s love beats down on it in vain: but beneath the hard surface the living soul is thirsting for its Eternal Love; and when the mass ofsin is cleared away, the soul leaps up to welcome God’s’ word and listen to news of Him as the poor exile snatches at a letter from home.

VII. -JOSEPH MOST JUST

Jesus was laid in the tomb by Joseph of Arimathea. His enemies sneered: “This seducer said He would rise in three days.” What little reputation He had that morning in official circles in Jerusalem! And yet this was just before the Resurrection! When He was reduced to nothing, when He was made a laughing-stock by His enemies, then He was about to win His greatest victory. No wonder the saints loved humiliation, loved to be crushed and despised in this world, knowing that it is the road to supernatural triumphs. So universal and inexorable is the law of suffering that Jesus Himself had to obey it.”Unless the grain of wheat falling into the ground dieth, itself remaineth alone.” (John xii. . 24.) The ordinary accompaniment of sanctity is suffering and humiliation; to be laughed at and be made little of in this world was often the lot of God’s best friends.

In the hour of humiliation it is consoling to contemplate the utter annihilation of Our Lord as He lay still and silent in the tomb, allowing His enemies to do their worst. Quietly, on the third day, He asserts Himself.

So we, if we remain quiet and hope for His assistance, shall experience His glorious help. Do not shrink from the cross: you must be crushed if you are to do great work for God. This is the secret that explains the strange problem of life’s sufferings. To solve this problem, whichhad baffled the world’s wisest heads, Jesus came; and He solved it not by subtle speech, but by the silent testimony of His life. We grasp the meaning of it all when we contemplate Him lying dead in the tomb, and hear His enemies’ scornful, triumphant words: “This seducer said He would rise from the dead.” And this seducer was Our Lord and Our God!

VIII. -JOSEPH MOST PURE

“Blessed are the clean of heart, for they shall see God.”-Matt. v., 8.

Jesus gave us the Blessed Eucharist as a sacrament fitted to our lowly, exiled, suffering state here below. He is present there in a state of humiliation and seeming annihilation; He would sympathise with us, put Himself on a level with us. We are outcasts from God, plunged in the miseries of a world of sin, and to be in keeping with this state He hides Himself under the appearance of bread and wine. He thereby calls our faith into play in a very active way, since we must exercise our faith to worship Him there.

Then, too, He teaches us lessons of great importance -above all, the lesson that the great works of His service do not call for display of our own abilities, that self-annihilation and trust in Him are the means to succeed in His work, that God works through means that seem utterly inadequate to bring about His triumphs. So that, if you are poor and wretched, then realise deeply your own poverty and misery, keep it ever steadily before you, and God will use you for His work, just as He takes a little bread and wine and by transforming it works the wonders of grace in men’s souls. Hence everything that tends to humble you is for your good, and, helps to make you a pliable instrument in God’s hand. He is the artist, we the brushes; and just as Michael Angelo can only succeed on the supposition that his brushes are perfectly quiescent and responsive to his slightest touch, so, unless we are perfectly obedient to grace and divine inspirations, we spoil God’s work. What kind of picture would Raphael himself produce if the brush began to assert itself and move according to its own sweet will!

Holiness results from perfect obedience to divine inspirations.

IX.-JOSEPH MOST PRUDENT

“Get wisdom, because it is better than gold.”-Prov. xvi., 16.

God has confided gold to the safe keeping of hard rocks. To get gold men must toil to crush the quartz and tear from it the shining secret that fiery ages long ago confided to its sure embrace.

The real gold of life is union with God; and this gold also God has buried out of sight, and to win it we must toil.

Hard rocks have to be crushed, deep mines dug, much labour gone through, before this treasure is won. Lives of saints are the romance of the golddigging of God’s love. Their labours, austerities, strivings, are but the manifestation of the thirst for heavenly treasure that was driving them on. Jesus Christ is the Master Miner. He summons us to come and dig for this treasure. “Forget everything else, and set your heart on this alone. Father, mother, home, wealth, comfort, ease, life itself-stake all on this great venture.”

We so often think to win easily and without toil that which the saints paid so dearly for! The union with God which they enjoyed we too would have; but the heat of the day, and the hard work which they had to face, we shrink from; the road they travelled is too sharp and stony for our delicate feet.

X. -JOSEPH MOST COURAGEOUS

What courage he had! A man entrusted with a very valuable diamond to bring it safely across the sea will feel the responsibility of his charge. St. Joseph was entrusted with God’s Royal Diamond, and was told to guard it well, and, lo! scarce had it come into his keeping when robbers are on the track; they have heard of the booty and are devising measures to seize it. A royal despot with armies at his back is seeking the life of the Child; and St. Joseph is bidden to protect it. What a responsibility! The life of the world’s Saviour, the life of supreme importance for the universe put into my keeping (so might Joseph reflect), and I, a weak, helpless man! What can I do against Herod?

And he is told to cross the desert in flight. That desert is a hard one even for strong men to face; Joseph must convey the delicate Mother and the new-born Babe across it! What faith, what lion-hearted courage the man had!

How grateful we should be to him for his tender care of these two Friends of ours! We are touched by kindness shown to someone we love-to our mother, for example. So should we be grateful to Joseph, and often thank him for his fidelity to our two best Friends. Perhaps that is why devotion to him is so pleasing to Jesus; Jesus is grateful to Joseph, and likes us to help Him to discharge His debt. How Mary leaned on Joseph in her weakness and trouble! How she turned to him in her weariness and sorrow, and never found him wanting! How well he understood her! What a life it was-of friendship and intimacy with God’s Immaculate Mother!

XI. -JOSEPH MOST OBEDIENT

“Joseph arose and took the Child and His mother by night and retired into Egypt.”-Matt. ii., 14. Our Lord’s answer to the query: “Who, thinkest thou, is the greater in the kingdom of heaven?” is this:

“Whosoever shall humble himself as this little child, is the greater in the kingdom of heaven.” (Matt. xviii.) Jesus’ answer to that question is a momentous one for us. We all want to be “great” in the kingdom of heaven; and

Jesus says that for this we need-not wealth, talents, learning, success, fame-but simply to humble ourselves like children. All His doctrines and sacraments fit into this teaching. They demand submission, childlike confidence, putting ourselves with simple faith into His hands. The devotion of Catholics has developed along those lines; witness the tender, child-like spirit of devotion to our Mother Mary that is so flourishing in the Church. Who need be discouraged if all that is required for “greatness” is self-abasement? The poor, the suffering, the tempted, the helpless, all find comfort here; and it was for me Jesus spoke those words: “He that shall humble himself is the greater,” and he makes the lesson simple for all by taking the concrete example of a child.

The characteristics of childhood are innocence, trustfulness, simplicity. By God’s grace even sinners can return to the innocence of heart and thought of childhood. The fire of God’s love can purge and cleanse the mind, the imagination, the affections, and make them once more pure as molten gold. What a thing for us to sigh after and long for! What a spur to our efforts to love God more and more!

The second characteristic of childhood is trustfulness and humility, absence of leaning on self, consciousness of weakness, and complete trust in father and mother. A third characteristic is simplicity, absence of deceit, respect for others, freedom from jealousy or hatred.

This lesson of the necessity of becoming children if we would be great in His service, Jesus has taught by His own example. He became a Child literally for our sakes. Kneeling by the Crib we should think of His words: “Whosoever shall humble himself as this little child.” How He emptied Himself and humbled Himself like a child! And He wants me to do this, wants me to pray to Him in this spirit, to pray to Him with the simplicity and directness of a child talking to its mother.

XII. -.JOSEPH MOST FAITHFUL

“Simon, son of John, lovest thou Me?” -John xxi., 15.

To Peter, to brokenhearted Peter, how the question must have sounded, “Lovest thou Me?” How well Jesus knows how to comfort and lift up the broken heart! How Peter’s soul must have leaped up as it were from death to life, when he heard this question from Jesus. To have the chance of answering it meant so much to Peter, who a little while before had denied his Master. What an opening Jesus gave him! And, then, when his answer comes, “Lord,, thou knowest that I love Thee,” Jesus says:

“Feed My lambs. Take charge of My Church. Go and work to save souls.”

Our joy is that we too can save souls for Him -we too can feed His flock-and He calls us to do so. How differently Peter felt after this morning interview with Jesus (his morning’s meditation-the best he ever made, I fancy!) How swiftly his desolation had vanished after a few loving questions from Jesus, or rather one piercing question asked three times!

To each one of us Jesus puts that same wonderful question, “Dost thou love Me?” What we call “examination of conscience” is really an effort to answer that question. Life, in fact, is the repetition to us constantly of that question by God; every temptation to sin involves that question, the voice of conscience saying ever, “Dost thou love Me?” If we sin we cannot say “Yes” to that question. But if we do love Him, and can say truthfully, “Lord, Thou knowest all things; Thou knowest that I love Thee,” then comes back the injunction, “Feed My lambs, guide them on the road to heaven, pasture them, help them-My lambs-the little ones of My flock. So you will be doing kindness to Me, and atone for infidelity in the past.”

How hard Peter worked for the rest of his life to carry out this injunction! What a spur it was to his soul, that ringing word of Jesus, “Feed My lambs, feed My sheep”! It kept Peter travelling about the world looking for the lost sheep of Christ in order to feed them. What did he care for difficulties, or suffering, or death, when the scene of that bright summer’s morning on the shores of the Lake of Galilee came surging back to his memory? How often he sat down to think of these words: “Simon, dost thou love Me?” to dwell on the tone of voice, the tenderness, the flashing look of love in Christ’s eyes, the intense fire of mercy that burned in His words! How overwhelming it all must have been to poor, broken-hearted, desolate Peter. We sometimes think the miseries of life so great that no consolation could make up for them! Yet a moment like this atoned for every bitterhour of Peter’s life! And such a moment is awaiting us, perhaps in this life, and certainly in the next, if we are faithful to Him.

XIII -MIRROR OF PATIENCE

“Make not haste in the time of clouds. Wait on God with patience. . . . Take all that shall be brought upon thee; and in thy sorrow endure and in thy humiliation keep patience. For gold and silver are tried in the fire, but acceptable men in the furnace ofhumiliation.”-Ecclesiasticus ii., 2–5.

God has promised to hear us if we pray, and He cannot break His word. What He says, that He will do most assuredly. This reflection consoles us when we feel utterly dry and desolate and barren, like a whole Sahara concentrated into one little soul! When one is in that state, and contrasts the fervent acts of love, of charity, of zeal, of desire for heaven, of faith, that should be our occupation, it is rather frightening! But then comes the thought, stealing like a rain-cloud up from the edge of the quivering desert, that God has pledged Himself to help if we turn and ask; and, after all, no matter how we feel, we can ask, and the more utterly abandoned and Sahara-like we feel, the more reason we have for appealing to His mercy.

Yes, that thought comes like a cool breeze or a shower of rain to a thirsty land, and to that thought I can always return. It consoles us to think that the same infinite Love that is working to bring the lily to its perfection, working in His great studio to paint the myriad flowers that strew this earth of ours, using loving diligence with the least little plant that is waxing in the depths of an African forest, working day and night ceaselessly and restlessly and lovingly, that same infinite activity is at work in my soul, and wishes to beautify my soul even as He beautifies the lilies. Look at the flowers and see there the evidence to which He Himself appeals, of His loving solicitude. It is surely a great thought that He will purify, adorn, brighten my soul if I allow Him, make me a pearl beyond all price in His own eyes, polish and perfect me by the fire of His grace; will burn away all the filth and dross, all the stench and evil, and make me-even me-fragrant and pure and pleasing in His holy presence.

XIV. -LOVER OF POVERTY

“And they came with haste: and they found Mary and Joseph and the Infant lying in the manger.”-Luke ii., 16. The stable is indicative of the great secret of Christianity, for there we find on the one hand absolute poverty, cold, hunger, wretchedness; and on the other hand, God Himself made man. So it is ever; the road to God is through lowliness, poverty, mortification, humbling oneself; it is to the meek and the simple He manifests His Divine Countenance; just as on Christmas Day He drew the veil of heaven for the wondering eyes of a few poor shepherds.

If we upholster our minds with the rich cushions of pride and self-esteem and are afraid of the hard wood of humility and simple truthfulness, then Jesus leaves us to enjoy our comfort alone, without His company. He fares poorly; and if you would have the benefit of His conversation you must be content to share the hardships of His life; and it is in Jesus’ company you find Joseph, and therefore in poverty and suffering and humiliation, and so you must lower yourself if you want to be admitted to His friendship. St. Joseph teaches us to get rid of our pride; else we cannot be his friend; you will be too grand for him, you will not be at your ease with him-nor with Jesus.

XV.-MODEL OF ALL WHO LABOUR

The toiler who wishes to save his soul must imitate in St. Joseph the eight virtues mentioned in the last six titles of his Litany:

Justice in dealing with others,

Chastity and temperance in home-life,

Prudence-in avoiding extravagance, and in providing for the education of his children, Fortitude in bearing the troubles of life,

Obedience and loyalty to his employers,

Contentment with his lot in life.

XVI.-GUARDIAN OF VIRGINS

“Hearken, O daughter, and see, and incline thy ear: and forget thy people and thy father’s house. And the King shall greatly desire thy beauty; for He is the Lord thy God, and Him they shall adore.” -Psalm xliv., 11, 12.

The following titles tell us of St. Joseph’s life in Heaven, just as the previous titles form a kind of summary of his life on earth.

By his chaste life on earth he has won the right to be especially the Guardian of Virgins. He who guarded safely amidst the world’s storms the purest of Virgins; he whose virtue was so excellent that to his care this holy flower was entrusted by God, has power to guard and protect against temptation all those that love this superb virtue of Chastity.

LOVE MAKES THE HEART PURE

Let us try to understand the supreme importance of loving God. This is the occupation God has destined for us. We try to think out plans for our future, but this is the real occupation that will satisfy and perfect us. The Babe of Bethlehem mutely appealing to our pity is the summing up of God’s attitude to us, and the visible representation of the statement, “God is love.” Life is given us to bring home that fact to our consciousness. Yet we busy and distract ourselves with creatures, instead of simply using them to help us to understand this great truth. Creatures are like the blackboards and maps in the schoolroom-means of instruction, symbols whence we may learn something about God’s beauty and greatness. Just as a map of Africa leads me to have some knowledge of the shape, size, and order of that vast country, though we know how different a coloured print is from the continent itself, a splash of green from the waving primeval forests where the lion and the jackal prowl; so creatures are a kind of map giving us a faint concept of God. God is the great reality, creatures an accidental manifestation of Him lasting a few years and then passing away. Do I realise this and so look on creatures?

XVII. -MAINSTAY OF FAMILIES

Literally, Pillar of families. He is a strong column on which families can rest as upon an unshakeable foundation. Trust in him, recourse to his intercession, is a sure source of strength for the Christian family. If a father or mother chooses St. Joseph to be in a special way the patron of their household, if they have recourse to him in every necessity, they will find him a friend on whom they can rely-a column of support in their hour of need. So, too, religious families or communities will find in him a sure source of strength in their troubles.

THE SWEETNESS OF HOME

A little of the milk of human kindness makes life so sweet to others. The cause of all the bitterness in the world is the want of this milk of kindness. As want of food creates hunger and misery of body, want of kindness creates starvation and misery of soul. It is so easy to slip into the short, sharp, bitter, sneering style; our hearts are so easily swept by storms of impatience, like inland seas amidst a ring of mountains, beautiful in repose, when the rainbow light is sleeping on their blue waters, but so easily tossed and roused to white fury by sudden squalls that race down from the hills. To keep our hearts always smiling, to have the sunshine splendour always radiant on the hills of the soul- that is not easy. We must often pray, often turn to the King of Peace, to the Child that came to bring peace and joy and charity into the world, and, weeping at His cradle, to ask Him for love, intense love, for His poor suffering brethren, out of pity for whom He became a Baby. For the strong, overpowering thing in history is this (and we must insist on it in spite of the outcry of the world), that God became a Babe, and wants the fact to be published to the four quarters of the world, and told in trumpet tones from every pulpit, and rung forth in noisy clamour from every tower and steeple. The great God is before me as a child, and I can pray as a child to Him. I can come as a child to a child, and feel when talking to this Child that I am doing the thing for which I was created-namely, worshipping my Creator.

How delicate, tender, playful men become with little children! How the whole world unbends in presence of a little child! What is this strange power of a little child over all human hearts? Poets (Wordsworth, for example) say it is because a baby comes straight from heaven and has the light of heaven still shining in its eyes-is waking up from its dream of angels!

Whatever the explanation may be, God knows well the influence a little child exercises, and so He came to us as a child, to claim our adoration. I must bring this fact home to myself. When worldliness is breaking round me, or shutting me in like a fog, or care or worry of any kind is eating away my peace of heart, I must come back ever to this central fact, that God has become a baby for me; that to think about that fact is my chief business in life. It is such a check to pride and worldliness and haughty self-conceit, this devotion to the Babe of Bethlehem! And it kindles the fire of charity so intensely in our souls. When we meet the poor we are kind to them, because we do not want to be hard on the Babe of Bethlehem. We refuse nothing; we try to be gentle and kind to all, lest we be cruel to this little Babe of Bethlehem. Children are the flowers of the moral world, with all the beauty, indescribable tenderness, and power to move of flowers; and God became a baby flower to win my heart. How gently he woos me, coming down to me in the midst of angels’ songs and asking me to love Him.

XVIII. -SOLACE OF THE AFFLICTED

Thou hast not forgotten the long, dreary road,

When Mary took turns with thee, bearing thy God.

FATHER FABER

St. Joseph can comfort the sorrowing, because he has suffered. The story of his life is meagre in details, but it tells of sorrow all through, as is the case always with near friends of Jesus.

St. Joseph knows the sorrows of life; and because he has learned from Jesus the secret of charity for the miserable, he is pre-eminently our refuge and consolation in trouble. Experience proves his right to this blessed title.

Trust God, cast your care upon the Lord-is the constant exhortation running through Holy Scripture. He is ever whispering to our hearts: “It is I, fear not.” We may be crushed by a sense of our own impotence and insignificance in the universe, but this quiet voice stealing through the turmoil of creation gives us courage, telling us that, weak as we are, we can count on His boundless strength.

“Behold the lilies, how they grow. They labour not, neither do they spin. But I say to you that not even Solomon in all his glory was arrayed as one of these. And if the grass of the field . . . God doth so clothe, how much more you, O ye of little faith.” Hinting that we, too, must let God work for us. He loves us and wants to take on Himself the duty and pleasure of working for us, of making His creation serve us and beautify us.

Beauty is the outward sign of perfection of organism. He wishes to perfect us, and make us fair in His eyes. We are vessels in the hands of the potter, and must undergo rough treatment at times, be burnt or baked it may be, but all to make the final result more beautiful and more lasting. The clay vessel is useless until it has tasted the fire. Our furnace is tribulation, humiliation, without which we remain soft, useless clay. How differently men would spend life if they took these views of the world!

XIX.-HOPE OF THE SICK

Ponder on the fact that St. Joseph warn the one man selected to preside at the central scene in history -the entrance of God Himself as Man into the visible creation.

No wonder, then, if the Church feels great reverence for this man, and believes he is powerful to assist us by his prayers. If Jesus chose his arm to support Him in His infancy, what graces will He not lavish upon him? Jesus is generous and grateful; what, then, shall Joseph have for reward? Joseph’s dignity will only be properly appreciated by intense faith and men often spend their lives without intense faith.

Ruysbrook says: “The whole universe is the ring of our espousals bestowed upon us by God,” and if my Bridegroom is the Jeweller who has shaped this ring and studded it with precious stones for me, surely I may lean confidently on Him Who has had the skill and the will and the affection to give me that gift. The ceaseless changing hues of nature, the flashing radiance of spring, the rich beauty of summer, the soft mellow glories of autumn, the cold whiteness of winter, are but the glistening of this jewelled ring as He turns it in His hand, flashing it to show me its facets in order to win my smile of approval. . To gain this smile from me He made the world; for He made the world that through it I might praise Him; and the subtlest and most delightful Praise is surely the smile of approval breaking like dawn on the face of one we love. Think of God looking to me for that! It is only explicable on the same principle as we explain a grown-up man or woman longing for a smile from their child. We say it is love-that solves the puzzle.

So to wipe away my tears, to hush my sobs, to smooth my face and bring the sunshine of laughter into my life, Jesus is a baby in the arms of St. Joseph. Joseph’s business is to present this great Child-God to the world, that the world may be won by His beauty and leave everything for Him.

Now, if God looks for my approving smile, and is soliciting me for my praise, day by day, it is no harm for me to hunger after His smile, and to feel lonely and wretched about it. He won’t blame me for that! But that is the meaning of a life of prayer. Prayer is simply trying to see His face and catch a glimpse of His smile, out of love. It is the lover’s pining after his beloved-we serenading God (as B. Suso serenaded Our Lady). The world loses its firm solidness for God’s lovers. To them it is a barrier and a hindrance, because it obscures their view of Him, as daylight effaces the stars.

When that is our state of soul, fear disappears; death is merely an incident, and the whole material world and all its attractions a passing gift of Him.

St. Joseph must help us to see this point of view. We want him, who held Jesus so firmly in his arms, to let us hold Him, too; to get us audiences frequent and close with the Divine Child, that we may see His smile and live for Him alone. “The health of the soul consists in the love of God.” (St. John of the Cross.)

XX.-ST. JOSEPH, PATRON OF THE DYING

St. Joseph has a unique claim to the position of patron of a happy death, since he died the most blessed of deaths, assisted byJesus his Judge, and Mary, that Judge’s Mother. The soul nearing the end of its pilgrimage has special difficulties to face: weariness, heaviness, despondency arising from sickness; attacks of demons, who are more earnest and persistent when death approaches, in order, if possible, to make the soul relax its grip upon God just when it is about to enter into possession of Him for ever. This weakness of physical nature and strength of spiritual foes call for special assistance. Hence these two titles of St. Joseph, Hope of the sick, Terror of demons.

XXI. -PROTECTOR OF HOLY CHURCH

As Patron of a happy death, as the saint who by his prayers secures that supreme grace for his clients, he is the Protector of Holy Church, guarding her interests at the moment which is of greatest importance in the life of her children, keeping ward and watch at the portal between time and eternity, and snatching from destruction the souls that at that narrow gate are in risk of being torn from the Church for ever.

During the years that God’s Church may be said to have consisted of only three members, Jesus, Mary and Jos eph, St. Joseph was evidently its Protector; he guarded the seed whence the world-wide (or Catholic) Church was to spring up later on. In Mary’s womb was formed the first beginning not only of the physical Body of Jesus, but also of His Mystical Body, of which we are the members. And St. Joseph, since his death, has by his prayers and intercession been protecting this Mystical Body, has acted as heavenly Patron and Protector of the Church of Christ.

EPILOGUE

“Lord, if it be Thou, bid me come to Thee upon the waters.” (Matt. xiv., 28.) They thought it was a ghost, and Peter dimly seeing Jesus doubts if it be He, and asks for a sign-a miracle-to prove he is not wrong.

So, often in life, we doubt if it be really Jesus we see or no; wonder if the voice calling us, the inspiration, comes from God; and sometimes the test we apply is this: we walk on the waters at His bidding, and our not sinking shows that He is nigh.And when Peter cried out, immediately Jesus caught him and said: “O thou of little faith, why didst thou doubt?” Without delay Jesus helps him. So I must lean on Him, and in spite of the obscurity of time, which makes it hard to see Him, reach out to Him by faith. Even thus Jesus comes to us, too, in our storms-suddenly and yet dimly, demanding a certain ready act of faith on our part. We must risk something, must be daring, to reach Him; sometimes we have to risk life itself, as Peter did, and then, when we take the plunge, when we step away from the boat of creature comforts on to the unstable dancing waters of faith, we feel His strong hand and hear His strong, cheering voice in the gloom, and know in very truth it is He, andno ghost. What music that voice made in Peter’s ears on that stormy night!

The tossing sea for me is the round of daily life with its ups and downs, and my walking on the waves consists in boldly facing my duty for His sake. I see Him dimly across the waters of time, and to reach Him I am trying to walk these waves; it is for His sake I am doing my work; these never-ceasing rolling waves of duty are the floor across which I want to reach Him. He, too, is walking that sea of duty, and by His strength I shall succeed in keeping afloat; and if the wind is strong then, if I call, He will at once reach out and hold me in His strong grasp. Interior “recollection,” a life of prayer is just this peering through the gloom to catch the form of Jesus; at times we see Him, then again He is hidden; but in every circumstance of life I must keep on trying to see Him.

How cold and desolate Peter would have felt if Jesus were not there, if it had been merely an imagination, a phantom on the waters! What a bleak and hopeless thing life is-a barren tossing waste of waters-with no Jesus nearing in the gloom! And how the black is turned into gold, and the sullen, stormy night to a radiant, streaming summer’s morning, when Jesus speaks! How we forget the storm and the misery when we have Him in the boat with us!

And the glorious thing is that He wants to be with me, and He wants my soul to be His Bride, with my heart fixed on Him in every change and chance of life. And so, at every turn of the road of life, I have Him, in the Blessed Sacrament or in the poor-dimly shadowed forth in either case-walking across the sea of time, to be reached by an act of faith. For the same impulse that drove Peter out on the sea will help us to plunge, as it were, through the sacramental covering, and reach Jesus hidden in that sacred blackness, or else to pierce through the thick obscurity of poverty and rags, and behind that veil find Jesus Himself living for us in the poor. It needed courage on Peter’s part to cry out, “Lord, if it be Thou, bid me come to Thee upon the waters,” so it needs courage to pierce the shroud of bread and wine, or of rags and poverty, nakedness and homelessness, sickness and misery, that hides Jesus from us. By these two veils, the sacramental veil and the veil of poverty, Jesus tests our faith. If you ask why, I ask, Why this scene in Galilee? Why the dim, sudden apparition barely discernible in the gloom, the stealing form that frightened His friends and led to Peter’s tremendous leap? It was, I take it, to stimulate Peter’s will, to rouse the man to a sublime act of faith. And Christ’s plan of living in the Blessed Sacrament and living hidden in the poor and homeless and the naked, helps to rouse our will, and spur us on to strong acts of faith. The Blessed Sacrament and the poor are two touchstones testing the souls of men, two rocks on which we either suffer hopeless shipwreck or get firmly anchored so as to belong to God and possess Him for ever.

THE LITANY OF ST. JOSEPH (APPROVED BY POPE PIUS X., MARCH 18, 1909.)

Lord have mercy on us.

Christ have mercy on us.

Lord have mercy on us.

Christ hear us.

Christ graciously hear us.

God the Father of Heaven,

God the Son, Redeemer of the world, God the Holy Ghost,

Holy Trinity, One God,

Holy Mary, Pray for us

St. Joseph, etc.

Illustrious Son of David,

Splendour of Patriarchs,

Spouse of the Mother of God, Chaste Guardian of the Virgin, Foster-father of the Son of God, Watchful Defender of Christ, Head of the Holy Family,

Joseph most just,

Joseph most pure,

Joseph most prudent,

Joseph most courageous,

Joseph most obedient, Pray for us Joseph most faithful, etc.

Mirror of patience,

Lover of poverty,

Model of all who labour,

Glory of family life,

Preserver of virgins,

Mainstay of families,

Solace of the afflicted,

Hope of the sick,

Patron of the dying,

Terror of demons,

Protector of Holy Church,

Lamb of God, Who takest away the sins of the world, Spare us, O Lord.

Lamb of God, Who takest away the sins of the world, Graciously hear us, O Lord.

Lamb of God, Who takest away the sins of the world, Have mercy on us.

V. He hath made him master of His house. R. And ruler of all His possessions.

LET US PRAY

O God, who in Thine ineffable providence didst vouchsafe to choose Blessed Joseph to be the Spouse of Thy Most Holy Mother, grant, we beseech Thee, that we may be worthy to have him for our intercessor in Heaven whom on earth we venerate as our Protector. Who livest and reignest world without end. Amen.

Nihil obstat:

F. MOYNIHAN,

Censor Deputatus.

Imprimatur:

@ D. MANNIX,

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis. ********

Saint Joseph’s Virtues

BY REV. ALBERT POWER, S.J., M.A

INDEX

1. JOSEPH MOST JUST

Souls become holy as flowers grow to beauty -by basking in sunshine: and the sunshine of the spiritual world flows radiantly from the Heart of Jesus, the Man-God. Now during years of his life St. Joseph lived in daily contact with Him who is the Source of all justice and all holiness. What a privilege that was! Yet Jesus has devised a plan whereby we can share in that same privilege if we choose. For on us the sunshine of grace streams radiantly from Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament.

To understand Christ’s gre at plan in instituting the Blessed Sacrament must be the object of our constant efforts. We must come ceaselessly to Him that He may instruct us in His own Divine Wisdom. His Plan is a hidden, mysterious one. The world scorns to accept His teaching, just as the Jews in Capharnaum refused to listen to Him when he said they must eat His Flesh; and even some of the disciples turned away and refused to walk with Him any longer. So, too, nowadays, the Blessed Sacrament is the dividing line between the true friends of Jesus and His opponents.

The Beatific Vision. The Blessed Sacrament is to us on earth what the actual visible Presence of God is to the blessed in Heaven. In Heaven we shall gaze on God as He is, face to face. The tormenting veil that hides Him from us here below shall be torn aside: the cloud that conceals so effectually His Being shall be removed, and the splendor of the Godhead shall be revealed to us. Then we shall know Him as He is, the infinite, unimagined, uncreated Beauty. The perfection of that Essence is so wonderful that God Himself gazes upon It everlastingly and is never satiated. God’s eternal life is simply the act of contemplating and loving His own infinite Beauty.

Think of what that Ocean of Being must be, that perfect Essence that exists by its own very nature! To exist is God’s Essence, the very notion of His Being. We exist now; a little while ago we were nothing. Our hold on existence is precarious, our life is a long struggle with elements of dissolution that are hurrying us to the grave; not so with God. And presently we shall see Him as He is, shall gaze upon Him who exists by His very Nature! And when the soul is admitted to that Vision, its life is to gaze upon it undistractedly; all its joy and strength will come from that Vision, and from the love it begets in the soul.

Source of Our Life. Now the Blessed Sacrament is, in this world, the source of all our good. >From It streams forth the river of life to save men from the death of sin. We live by gazing on Him, by feeding on Him, by keeping ever in touch with Him. And the closer our union, the more incessant our recourse to Him, the intenser shall be our supernatural life.

Hence we see the marvellous spiritual activity of the Saints, just because they sought Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament so fervently. He was everything to them, His Presence filled up their lives so that there was no room for created attractions that might lead to sin.

“I am the Vine.” Jesus Himself constantly speaks of this dependence on Himself as the source o f life. “I am the Vine and you are the branches. As the branch cannot bear fruit of itself unless it abide in the Vine, so neither can you unless you abide in Me.” The rich, luxuriant grapes are the result of nourishing sap flowing from the vine into the branches. So the rich fruits of virtue are the result of the sap of divine grace flowing generously into our souls from the Vine of the Blessed Sacrament.

In St. John (chapter 6) Jesus insists, over and over again, on this great truth: “The bread of God is that which cometh down from Heaven and giveth life to the world.”

“I am the bread of life: He that cometh to Me shall not hunger, he that believeth in Me shall never thirst.”

By our very nature we are ever seeking for happiness. The soul is a restless, craving substance that needs something besides itself for its satisfaction. Just as the body imperiously demands food and drink, and must have them or perish; so the soul demands its food and must have it or be for ever in torture indescribable. The fierce energy of the hungering and thirsting soul, baulked for ever of peace and happiness, constitutes the supreme torment of hell.

Now Jesus came to still that hunger, to quench that thirst by giving to our souls the Bread of Life, the Waters of Salvation. One may well say that food which can fully satisfy an immortal soul, and still its cravings for ever, must be food indeed; the waters that can satisfy the thirst of every soul must truly be Waters of life. Yes, assuredly the soul needs a wondrous food, but the food Jesus offers is wonderful beyond the wildest dreams of fancy, since it is God Himself.

2. JOSEPH MOST PURE

Purity of heart is the result of intense love of God. Sin (which dims the soul’s purity) is an inordinate seeking of created things, a choosingof some gratification which we know God’s law forbids. The soul that loves God intensely will ever seek to do His will as perfectly as possible. “He that loveth me keeps my commandments.”

Now St. Joseph’s soul was ablaze with intense love of God. As a res ult of the extraordinary graces bestowed upon him to fit him for his high office he desired only the perfect accomplishment of God’s Will. Hence he led a life of marvellous purity-walking ever in God’s presence, a man of ceaseless prayer and unbroken union with God.

We too, if we would achieve purity of soul, must seek to walk in God’s presence.

Why Saints? The difference between Saints and other people is this: they are all intent upon God and His work- others are intent upon creatures. The Saints cry out to us: “Seek God purely and directly, and He will help thee to do His work. Climb above the blinding mists of human cares, keep ever gazing into the heaven of God’s Being, and light will come.

How can one help others unless one has climbed the heights and knows where the upward path is to be found? An Alpine guide must have trodden the track to the summit many a time himself.”

This silent inward quest of God must go on steadily all through life in fair weather and foul. Christ has redeemed us and restored us to our rights, but He has left to each individual the business of seeking the prize of life by his own exertions. And the only explanation of the strange experience that we call life is this: that it is intended to be a quest of God. When we realise this, then life becomes intelligible.

Jesus Himself had no other business in life. He too was a Knight Errant in quest of souls. And yet in seeking souls He is really seeking God, since He is seeking to restore the ruined image of God in sinful souls. It is not the mere soul as such that Jesus wants, but rather God in the soul: to see His Father’s image kindled to living activity in regenerated souls, to see His Holy Spirit busy there, is the whole ambition of His Sacred Heart. His Heart, like the heart of every Saint (He is the King of Saints, the first and chiefest and grandest of all the Saints) is set simply and intensely on God. He fulfilled in a way impossible to any other creature God’s spacious command, “Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with thy whole heart and with thy whole soul and with all thy strength and all thy mind.”

Christ’s Sacred Heart. So Jesus loved with all the strength of His Heart, with all the intense devotion of His spotless Soul, with all the power of His perfect Nature, with all the single-minded energy of His most perfect Will, and He loved under the influence of the fulness of all grace. His human intellect and will were perfected, elevated, penetrated by grace poured out upon Him in the most lavish abundance. All the fervor and fire and devotion of the Saints, all the intensity of the Cherubim were His. His eyes were ever gazing Godwards. He sought to find God everywhere in Creation, above all in that most perfect mirror of Divinity, the immortal soul. When the soul is lit by grace Jesus sees reflected therein the one Object of His desires. But alas, as He gazes round this world of ours and looks to find His Father’s image, He meets on every hand the blank, miserable emptiness of sin: He sees coldness and wretchedness where the fire ofGod’s love should be blazing: He finds God’s enemy, the hideous personification of evil, actually enthroned in His Father’s chosen temples.

God’s Palace. Souls were created to be God’s resting place; each soul is meant to be Sedes Sapientiae, a Throne for Infinite Wisdom to rest upon; an Ark of the Covenant where he may manifest His Presence; a House of Gold to be filled with His precious bridal gifts; a Sanctuary of holiness, the very image and reproduction of the Infinite Beauty; and lo! Christ finds therein too often only noisome foulness, finds God cast forth from His own house and God’s enemy, in full possession. What a bitter, crushing misery for His Heart! And Christ’s work is to restore God to His rightful place. And because He more intensely and exclusively and perfectly than any other man sought God in the souls of men, therefore is His power and influence greater than any other man’s. A priest is consequently (as being alter Christus) a man seeking God in the souls of men; and when he finds Him not, when he finds God’s image destroyed, then the priest sets to work to restore it-to rekindle that lost image. This explains the priest’s activity in preaching and administering the sacraments, which are means for restoring God to the soul.

And just as Christ’s quest for God in the human soul explains His strange life of suffering, humiliation, abandonment, and His bitter Passion and Death, so our quest of God in souls will explain our sufferings also; since the grain of wheat must fall into the ground and die before it brings forth fruit.

3. JOSEPH MOST PRUDENT

Prudence is one of the supreme virtues of a Ruler. The Patriarch Joseph was sold by his brethren into slavery, but through the special grace and providence of God rose to be the Chief Minister of Egyptian Pharaoh, in which high office he displayed such prudence that the king gave him complete charge of his household-with authority to dispense as he pleased the royal property. Now he was the prototype of the other and greater Joseph who also by special grace and providence of God rose from a humble station to be the Master of God’s own household-with such authority vested in his hands as was never before entrusted to any living creature-whether man or angel: authority, namely, to direct, guide and instruct the Child that was God Himself and to determine His actions and His mode of life.

God’s Obedience. God came on earth to teach us humility:- and He began by practising it Himself. To do this He wished to be submissive-to bow Himself down in entire obedience beneath the sway of His own creature: and the person chosen to act as His Superior-to wield authority over Him-was Joseph the Carpenter of Nazareth.

What a position it was! What marvellous prudence it called for! But Joseph acquitted himself well. And what was the secret of his success? Just this, he “cast his care upon the Lord” and the Lord provided for him. He kept in close touch with God by prayer, and all went well.

The Divine Child who was his charge was also his Instructor. The Child in whose Presence he lived, with whom he came into daily contact, was the Source of all his strength.

So it is with us. We too are guardians of Jesus-His fortunes are in our hands. But He Himself is the Light that will guide us in discharging our duty.

For He is still living in our midst in the Blessed Sacrament; and the immediate personal service He wants from us is adoration. We adore Jesus because He is God: and the fact that He is God is clearly shown forth in the Resurrection.

The Visits of Jesus. For us the apparitions of the risen Christ are our daily Communions. In those fleeting visits Jesus Himself comes in person, with all His glorious qualities and searches our souls to see if we are ready for His gifts. What are the dispositions He seeks to find in us? What is the attitude of soul that attracts His gaze and makes Him bestow His treasures upon us? In other words what qualities in us will give pleasure to His Sacred Heart and so make reparation to Him for the sinfulness and tepidity of others? The answer is supplied by the meetings recorded in the Gospel between Jesus risen from the dead and His friends. And we shall see that the souls that pleased Him most were the souls most filled with faith and with love.

Mary Magdalen. How Mary Magdalen made amends by her fervor for the contempt heaped upon Him by His enemies! She is standing near the empty tomb weeping bitterly because His Sacred Body is gone; His enemies must have stolen it and are perhaps desecrating it. So she is standing there desolate and weeping, because Jesus is being dishonored. That is a picture of the Christian soul kneeling in reparation before the Tabernacle, filled with sorrow because Christ’s enemies treat Him so badly. Such a soul realises deeply who He is. She has knelt by the crib of Bethlehem with the Magi and adored Him as her God: she has followed the child Jesus from the streets of Nazareth to the Temple in Jerusalem: has stopped and listened as Mary put her pleading question to Him: “My child, why hast thou treated us in this manner? behold thy father and I have sought thee sorrowing.” She has watched Him working miracles, multiplying the loaves and feeding the thousands: has seen Him lay His hand on the stricken lepers and restore them to health: has watched Him raise the widow’s son to life, and call forth Lazarus from the tomb. Thus in daily meditation she has lived with the Prophet of Nazareth, and like Peter and John she has come to understand the sublime truth of His divine Personality.

The Central Fact.She has tasted the meaning of the central fact of the world’s history, that Jesus, the Boy of Nazareth, is actually the living God come down amongst us: that this Man who is practising the trade of a carpenter, shaping and moulding the wood to human uses, is the Artisan who shaped the universe; that He it is who has moulded and fashioned the stars and set them jewel-like in their places. And so she kneels before Him, as Mary Magdalen knelt, drinking in His words and spending her life gladly in the supreme work of adoration. The great light has come and filled her soul, the great truth is her possession, that Jesus Christ is a Divine Person: that the God of Abraham and of Isaac and of Jacob who led the Israelites through the desert, who spoke to Moses on Mount Sinai and gave the tables of the law, who rained manna in the desert and caused the living water to burst from the rock, that He who is supreme Ruler and Master and Lord of the Universe is actually there before her, speaking to her, listening to her, gently shaping her soul by His teachings.

“The World Knew Him Not.” And then she sees how this great fact of the Divinity of Jesus is unrecognised by the world. “He was in the world and the world was made by Him and the world knew Him not.” That is why her tears flow and her heart is filled with sorrow, because He is treated so coldly and scornfully by the world that He came to save. Such souls filled with intense faith and intense love are the resting places where Jesus finds comfort and consolation. Hence we see Him coming to thank Mary Magdalen for her tears. Just one little word He speaks. He calls her by her name, “Mary,” and behold, heaven is in her soul. How will it be when Jesus calls us by name? What will it be to hear Him speak to us in tender affectionate terms? Will not that make amends for all the bitterness of our exile?

4. JOSEPH MOST COURAGEOUS

Joseph arose and took the Child and His mother by night and retired into Egypt. Matt. ii., 14. What courage he had! A man entrusted with a very valuable diamond to bring it safely across the sea will feel the responsibility of his charg e. St. Joseph was entrusted with God’s Royal Diamond, and was told to guard it well, and, lo! scarce has it come into his keeping but robbers are on the track; they have heard of the booty and are devising measures to seize it. A royal despot with armies at his back is seeking the life of the Child; and St. Joseph is bidden to protect it. What a responsibility! The life of the world’s Saviour, the life of supreme importance for the universe put into my keeping (so might Joseph reflect), and I, a weak, helpless man! What can I do against Herod?

And he is told to cross the desert in flight. That desert is a terrible one for strong men to face; Joseph must convey the delicate Mother and the new-born Babe across it! What faith, what lion-hearted courage the man had!

Coming of the Magi. This cruel trial followed the visit of the Magi. May we not think that God arranged that visit in order to prepare Mary and Joseph for the flight to Egypt? The example of heroic trust and fidelity to God’s call shown by these Wise Men from the East, taught them how to face the long weary journey so suddenly imposed upon them.

Perfume of the East. What a wonderful Oriental charm there is about this story of the Magi-those foolish Easterners coming all this way to see and adore a little new-born Babe! It is like the foolishness of modern Catholics travelling round the globe to pray at a shrine. This was the first pilgrimage in the history o£ Christianity; the starting point of that system of travel for purposes of prayer and worship which has gone on steadily ever since down to the days of Lourdes and Lisieux.

We may, I suppose, take for granted that the good folk of Jerusalem thought it a very foolish enterprise indeed. “We have come (quoth the travellers) to adore the new-born King ofthe Jews.” No mere money-making expedition this! They have come not to receive, but to give. Foolish men! Yet foolish with the wisdom of God-for “it is more blessed to give than to receive.”

“We Have Seen His Star.” And when asked how they were impelled to undertake this adventure, their answer is: “We have seen His star in the East.” That again opens up vistas. “His star?” Is the Master of the stars then guiding them by a special sign? Here we are already on the track of the mystic Saints-led on in their adventurous climbing by God’s miraculous light.

Now you will notice that in the course of this enterprise they have to come into pretty rough contact with the world and its spirit. Their path to Jesus lies through the tumultuous city and wicked court of King Herod. There they must face bitter scorn and sarcastic questioning, and must have an interview with Herod himself, and be ready to satisfy his enquiries. This King Herod will use every effort to destroy the Baby Jesus, and will fail. But thirty years later his son, Herod Antipas, Tetrarch of Galilee, will meet Jesus face to face, will dress Him in the white robe of a fool, mock Him, and send Him back to Pilate and to death.

Life’s Pilgrimage. In this pilgrimage of the Magi we may note two characteristics which also mark the pilgrimage of every soul that sees the gently shining star of grace and rises up to follow it and find the newborn King. First, the length and loneliness and difficulties of the journey, with but a faint and distant star to guide them; secondly, the rough encounter with the worldly spirit and its principles that tend to turn them back.

In the first place then you must-at least in spirit-leave home and friends and the comforts of the East and journey westwards to find Jesus. This means “detachment,” a resolute spirit that is determined to sacrifice everything in order to find Him. He is the treasure hidden in the world-the precious pearl known to few; you the merchant setting forth on life’s great adventure to secure the treasure for yourself. That is why a “religious vocation “ is such an intensely interesting thing. It is a great bid for a splendid prize-it means entering the lists to tilt at a tournament where Saints and Angels and God Himself are spectators of the combat. “We are become a spectacle to the world, both to angels and to men” (1 Cor. iv., 9).

Was It a Dream? Then in the second place you must face the roar and tumult of worldliness. You must pass through Jerusalem and hear its questionings and mark its attitude of hostility. Then resolutely you must throw off its shackles, get out again into the open where the star is blazing, and follow it as it guides you to your goal.

During their sojourn in Jerusalem the Magi may well have been tempted to think that perhaps, after all, they were on a fool’s errand-seeking a mysterious child of whom none could give them tidings. Was it all a fantastic dream? Were it not better to drop this strange quest once and for all, settle down like ordinary people and enjoy life? Had they listened tothe tempter’s voice they would never have seen Mary and Joseph and the Babe.

But they persevered. And when they actually found the Child and fell down to adore Him and offer their gifts, how little they thought of the fatigue and worries and disappointments of the long journey! All was swallowed up in the ecstasy of finding Him at long last. For now they knew that the star had not deceived them; now they knew the great God was their Friend and had actually whispered to them His greatest secret, viz., that He was come Himself as a living man into the world to accept their homage and their gifts and their proffer of loyal service.

When God Speaks. So will it be with us. We may often be sore beset with harassing temptations that seem to frustrate all our efforts to follow God’s call. But these bitter hours will often be the prelude to a great discovery- when God’s hand lifts the veil and allows us to glimpse the Babe with His Mother, to taste how sweet He is; and to know-at least in a dim way-something of the unutterable happiness which the full knowledge and possession of Him will one day confer upon our poor souls.

5. JOSEPH MOST OBEDIENT

The stone which the builder rejected lo! it has become the keystone of the arch. Psalm cxvii., 22. Christ has conquered the world by His Obedience. And His earthly Guardian and Helper St. Joseph must resemble

Him by the perfect practice of this difficult and fundamental virtue.

Obedience is the surest test of humility: and on humility all Christian virtue must rest.

The Name of Jesus has been glorified just because He was so deeply abased; and we can learn something of the part obedience is to play in Christ’s scheme, by studying a little-with the aid of St. Paul-the story of the exaltation of the Holy Name.

The Name of Jesus . The Jews rejected Christ; they tried Him and found Him wanting. He would not fit into the building which they were planning. Caiphas, the High Priest, had a certain vision of happiness in his mind’s eye; his forecast of the political and religious future of Jerusalem demanded that he should select carefully the materials of his building, and behold! Jesus of Nazareth did not fit into his plan. So he assembled his fellows to examine Christ and they found Him wanting and cast Him away.

The Rejected Stone. And see what has happened. This rejected stone has become the very keystone of the arch supporting God’s house! The humbled Jesus has been so elevated by God that He is the centre-piece of creation, and the whole universe bows in adoration at mention of His name. He climbed to His seat of majesty beside His Father’s throne along the steep and craggy paths of bitter shame. He was humbled to the cruel and awful depth of being, crucified as a malefactor; therefore hath God exalted Him and given Him a name above every other name, so that at the name of Jesus every knee must bend in heaven on earth and in hell; and all must do Him homage and every tongue confess that the Lord Jesus shares the glory of God the Father. (Phil. ii., 8–11).

Christ ‘s Exaltation. On account of His obedience God exalted Him; and this exaltation consists in the Glory and Majesty of Jesus being recognised throughout God’s created dominions. This recognition is secured in this world by the supernatural gift of Faith. Godbestows the gift of Faith and through it men’s eyes are opened to recognise who Jesus is. God so illumined men’s mind about the Holy Name that they recognised in It a Name more sacred than any other, so that they fall down in adoration at mention of It; and they see so clearly who He is, that they confess (by acts of faith) that Jesus Christ is the Lord, thereby giving glory to the Father.

Fiat Lux . This flood of light, called Faith, which came into men’s souls is the result of Christ’s humiliations, and in particular of His act of obedience in submitting to death by crucifixion. When God first said “Fiat lux” the material life of the universe began, and when God said “Fiat lux” in the spiritual universe, the supernatural life of souls began. That “Fiat” was merited by Jesus alone. Hence He is “the head of the corner” in that spiritual building of which souls are the constituent stones or elements.

Now the central revelation of this Faith is the supreme position of Jesus, the fact that the man Jesus is at God’s right hand, sharing the glory of God Himself. And the result of this revelation is the worship of Jesus by all creatures, both by external marks of adoration (bending the knee) and by internal homage (expressed in words, which are the interpreters of thought). Hence St. Paul continues: “Wherefore with fear and trembling work out your salvation for it is God who worketh in you both to will and to accomplish.” (Phil. ii., 13).

St. Paul. St. Paul lived habitually in the world of grace; and his thoughts, interests, aspirations are all in that elevated supernatural sphere, the interior world of the soul as illuminated, influenced and directed by God’s action. God Himself is the light of this interior world. Hence when Paul speaks of the exaltation of the Name of Jesus, he means that Jesus’ Name is glorified in men and angels by the light given to them by God, which light is given solely in virtue of the merits of Jesus. We do not perhaps dwell enough upon this fact that Jesus is for us the source and origin of the supernatural world, who merited (by His death) the creation of that new universe which we call the world of Grace. Grace is the new life that sprang up from the death of this Man-God. Just as the golden wealth of wheat in autumn springs from the corruption of the seed committed to earth in the spring time, so this golden fruit of supernatural life springs from the death of the heavenly seed that was in like manner committed to the black loneliness and humiliation of the tomb.

6. JOSEPH MOST FAITHFUL

If any man loves me he will keep my word. St. John xiv., 23.

St. Joseph was the Foster Father in whose arms the Child Jesus often rested-so that the divine Heart was beating very close to his own; who then could better understand the law of Charity which was the centre and essence of Christ’s teaching? Who more faithful in carrying out that law to the full?

Service. Jesus has taught us both by word and example that the highest use we can make of our faculties is to consecrate them to God in the service of others. Just as He, the greatest of men, came to render service and finally to die in discharging His duty to the race-falling stricken on the battlefield in the war against sin and the powers of evil; so He taught us also to spend our lives in rendering service. And the highest mark of esteem and affection He can bestow upon you is to give you ample opportunity for laboring effectively to help your fellow-creatures in their needs of body or soul.

On a certain occasion Jesus asked His disciple, St. Peter, three times over this important question: “Simon, son of John, dost thou love Me?” And when Peter, making protestation of his love, cried: “Master, Thou knowest that I love Thee,” after each repetition Jesus said to him: “Feed My lambs” or “Feed My sheep.” That is, if you love Me then work for the souls that I love-the sheep and lambs of that great flock of which I am the Faithful Shepherd.

In like manner, since Jesus loves His dear Foster Father so well, He gives him endless opportunities of helping souls, and St. Joseph carries out the work by promoting the activity of God’s grace in the interior life of those that appeal to him for help. He obtains for them the gift of prayer. So the Saints testify, especially his great client, St. Teresa of Avila, who ascribes to his intercession all the great and special graces of her life.

Christ’s Fellow -Workers.It is a part of Jesus’ great plan for the promotion of charity to do a great deal of His work through others. He employs His friends as His helpers. So we have the Sacramental system, whereby, though Jesus Himself is the chief agent, since it is He that really baptises, confirms, cleanses from sin and feeds the soul-still, He works through secondary agents, and so His servants become His immediate coadjutors and helpers in conveying God’s richest gift, namely, sanctifying grace, to the souls that He loves.

When the Apostles went forth preaching and workin g miracles, it was Jesus Himself who stirred men’s hearts or cured their bodies-but He did so through the instrumentality of the voices and hands, or even the touch of the garments of His preachers. In like manner Jesus shares His work with His dear friend, St. Joseph, and St. Joseph becomes the Patron, the helper, the promoter of the life of Jesus in our souls.

A Visit to Nazareth. Had you lived in Nazareth and been a friend of Joseph, he would have spoken to you about the Divine Child, encouraged you to come to visit Him, calmed your fears, removed your shyness. He would have told you of His charms and the delights of His conversation; and so would have done much to promote your friendship with his Foster Son.

And who (except Mary) knew the Child better or could have spoken more eloquently about Him? And you-if you were wise-would have listened gladly to this inspiring talk of the village Carpenter and would gladly accept an invitation to visit his house and become a friend of that family where such fragrance of virtue and holiness habitually reigned. So your intimacy with Jesus would develop; your love for Him would daily increase with growing knowledge and understanding of Him. But you would never forget that you were in Joseph’s home and that he was Master of the household.

Even so, we must still honor St. Joseph in the Household of the Catholic Church. We wish to seek, day after day, the companionship of the Divine Child in His Mystic Home on the Altar. Yet are there many obstacles to be overcome-many difficulties that beset our approach to the Royal Presence. Christ’s Tabernacle is set up in the midst of a noisy distracting world. Alongside the crowded highways of the world’s traffic He has pitched His tent-and, when we would visit Him, then, too often, alas! the din and cares of the fleeting world follow us and spoil our attention. Our minds are unstable-our hearts often caught in the meshes of the glittering counter-attractions of life. We sorely need a friend-one who is himself deeply filled with the spirit of adoration (the only becoming attitude in which to enter this Sacred Presence) to take us by the hand, to calm our thoughts, to turn our hearts quietly to heavenly things and dispose us to come to Jesus and give our whole attention to Him, to listen to His instructions, to accept His inspirations, to allow Him to do His purifying, transforming work in our souls.

A Friend at Court. And what friend more suitable for this work than Joseph, the Master of Jesus? If Joseph was found faithful in setting God’s household in order, will he not be able to put the household of your soul in order, that you may receive Jesus fittingly? It was Joseph’s duty in Nazareth to shield the Child and His Mother, from all that might be injurious, undesirable, unbecoming for them-from every influence that could mar the peace and happiness of their lives. It is still his duty to shield the friends of Jesus from the storms, temptations and evil influences that are calculated to injure them. His prayer helps unceasingly to establish firmly the Kingdom of Jesus in their souls.

7. MIRROR OF PATIENCE

St. Joseph’s soul is a Mirror reflecting the patience and gentleness of the Heart of Jesus; and through devotion to him we are brought into ever closer contact with that Divine Heart and partake more fully of its inexhaustible riches.

It is the living human Heart of Jesus that is the object of our worship. We speak of His Heart not merely to signify that we choose a heart as a symbol (as soldiers might choose a heart or a hand or a sword to decorate their banner) but we wish to direct our attention in a special way to the Heart of Jesus as the organ of His human life and love, and also as a visible symbol of the spiritual reality called His love. We wish to signify hereby the tenderness, the human gentleness and kindness of the love of Him who is God. Christ’s love is divine, even His human love; because it is the love of a divine Person. Just as it is a divine Person who shed His blood and died on the cross for our salvation, so it is a divine Person that loves through the organs and faculties of the Man Jesus. A divine Person is interested in us, is occupied about us, is solicitous for our welfare, but in a thoroughly human way.

A Divine Lover. It is God then whose love we are thinking about. But lest we forget how infinitely gentle and tender that love is, Jesus will have us turn our attention to His Heart, the human material organ and visible symbol of that love. The heart plays an even fuller and more prominent part in the language and thought of the Jews than amongst us, since it is the word used habitually to denote not only the seat of the affections but also “soul,” “will,” and “organ of thought.”

Now the thoughts and affections of Jesus are the purest and sublimest of all created thoughts and affections, and their home or origin is the sacred sanctuaryof Christ’s Heart. That is the glorious, divine spring whence flows the stream of purity and fragrance which we call the love of Jesus.

As the river flowing through the sin-laden city has its source in the lofty mountain where the stainless water leaps freshly from the rock: so the river of life which is the love of the Man-God has its origin in the mystic mountain heights of the Heart of Jesus-the Heart that is elevated to the glory of hypostatic union with God. It is God’s Heart. Think then what the love will be that has its home in that Heart! Think how pure, tender, undefiled, elevated that love will be!

Human Love Divine. Just as Jesus, though man, is a divine Person and in Him our humanity is elevated to an infinite dignity, and with Him we are lifted up into a divine region where we become in a sense deified (we call this our “supernatural elevation”): so the love of Jesus, the human love of His Heart, is a divine thing because it is the love of a Person who is God. Hence human love is deified in Christ’s love. To realise this and to feed our souls on this great truth kindles devotion to His Sacred Heart.

The Sacred Humanity of Jesus will make us fragrant by communicating its treasures of grace to us. It is the Man Jesus that has merited for us; He is the Vessel of Grace, filled to overflowing with choicest gifts and communicating His treasures to us without stint. The Man Jesus it was that wept for us in Bethlehem and shed His Blood for us in Gethsemani and on Calvary, and by His human death, by the death of His human body, by the agony of His human Heart, He won back for us the Vision of His Father in heaven.

It is as His brothers and sisters we are admitted to that Vision. He lifts us up with Him. He has that Vision of His own right. He is the heir to the estate, He has an indefeasible right to that Possession: we enter in as sharing His privileges; through His kindness we also are sons of God, heirs to the Kingdom or Vision of God.

To accomplish that great purpose in our regard is the ambition of His Sacred Heart: and to know His Heart is to know what His plan is.

Now we can understand better, perhaps, why He loves the poor and desolate and suffering. It is the soul He is thinking of, the jewel of the soul hidden beneath the rags or the disease or the disgrace; the soul it is He values; and His Divine tenderness seeks to lift up and to save the soul no matter how repulsive the exterior may be.

Hence those that grow in love of Jesus and in knowledge of His Sacred Heart become like Him by sharing in that gentleness that is the characteristic virtue of His Heart. They too-like St. Joseph-become mirrors of His divine Patience.

8. LOVER OF POVERTY

And they came with haste: and they found Mary and Joseph and the Infant lying in the manger. St. Luke ii., 16. The stable of Bethlehem is indicative of the great secret of Christianity, for there we find on the one hand great poverty, cold, hunger, wretchedness; and on the other hand, God Himself made Man. So it is ever; the road to God is through lowliness, poverty, mortification, humility; it is to the meek and the simple He manifests His Divine Countenance; just as on Christmas night He drew the veil of heaven for the wondering eyes of a few poor shepherds.

If we upholster our minds with the rich cushions of pride and self-esteem and are afraid of the hard wood of humility and simple truthfulness, then Jesus leaves us to enjoy our comfort alone, without His company. He fares poorly; and if you would have the benefit of His conversation you must be content to share the hardships of His life; and it is in Jesus’ company you find Joseph, and therefore in poverty and suffering and humiliation, and so you must lower yourself if you want to be admitted to His friendship. St. Joseph teaches us to get rid of our pride-else we cannot be his friend, nor be at our ease with him-nor with Jesus.

The Shepherd Guests. If we wish to rise to God, to come near His Majesty and feel His influence upon our souls, we cannot do better than take as models the Bethlehem visitors to whom God Himself issued a special and honorable invitation to come into His Presence. These shepherds are Our Lord’s select and honored guests on the occasion of His birth. Let us study those visitors a little.

Their Qualities. Note three qualities in the shepherds. First their poverty. They had little of the world’s goods; knew nothing of the royal wealth stored in the palaces of Caesarea or Rome; were simple, unlettered, detached men. And of such is the Kingdom of Heaven. Secondly, the simple faith that made themaccept trustingly the Angel’s message. This promptness of belief is a sign of their unworldliness. They asked for no sign but listened in all simplicity to the Divine Message and believed. Thirdly, their promptitude of action in corresponding with the Divine Light.

Immediately they say, “Let us go over to Bethlehem and see this word which the Lord hath revealed to us.” They received no positive command to attend this royal levee. The Angel merely said: “I bring you splendid news that will make the world leap for joy, for the Saviour, the heavenly Messenger and Prophet who will set the world right, is born this very night a little distance away, and you can see Him if you will. I shall give you a sign by which you may distinguish Him from other babes. You shall find Him lying in a manger and wrapped in swaddling clothes.” And then with startling suddenness the heavenly hosts are all about them singing God’s praises.

The Delights of Paradise. The humiliation of the Second Person of the Trinity, His utter self-annihilation, is announced, and simultaneously is revealed the glory to which it will lead. The poor shepherds’ souls are inundated for a brief period with the delights of paradise. Why? In order to strengthen them and prepare them for the lowliness and poverty and meanness of Christ’s Birth. Were it not for this glimpse of Paradise they would scarcely have been able to go to Bethlehem and kneel at the crib and adore the Babe. But God proportions the grace to the task. Here we have illustrated the truth onwhich St. Paul so strongly insists: “Christ emptied Himself, taking the form of a slave and therefore God hath exalted Him and given Him a name above every other name.”

Per Crucem ad Lucem. The glory of the Vision Beatific is the result of God’s self-annihilation. Per crucem ad lucem!And this truth it is that lies at the root of the “spiritual life,” a life, that is, lived intent on the things of the spirit rather than on the visible things of the universe. Other arts and sciences and professions are occupied with created material things. Even “abstract “ sciences (such as mathematics) busy themselves about the qualities and accidents of material, extended things. Religion alone is occupied exclusively with supernatural interests. To enable the soul to sacrifice and turn away from the pleasures and interests of the world, a strong supernatural impulse is required and that impulse is supplied by such glimpses of the “brightness of God” as were vouchsafed to the shepherds.

Listening to God’s Voice. Prayer should mean for us a similar visit of angels, a listening to heavenly harmonies and a glimpse of God’s beauty.

During prayer God is treating us as He treated the shepherds, inviting us to leave our sheep and dogs and business cares, and come over to Bethlehem and find the Divine Infant. We should act as did the shepherds. We should have a strong lively faith in God’s guidance and providence. Against this trust in God we are often tempted, we are inclined sometimes to think He has forgotten us. Those that hold on stubbornly amidst the storm are they that do great things for Him.

Be Prompt. Then too we should be prompt in obeying the call. Now is the moment to act. The stars are hastening across the sky, the night is speeding away, morning will soon be here, and then perhaps the Babe will not be so easily found. Promptness of action is just as necessary in corresponding with God’s graces as alertness to see and utilize opportunities is necessary for successful business enterprise.

9. MODEL OF WORKMEN

Mankind depends for existence on its workmen. As the workers of the world are, so will the world itself be. And therefore just as when Jesus wished to reform family life He began by restoring Woman to the high position of dignity from which man’s evil passions had cast her down and for that purpose set before the world the Model of a perfect wife and mother in the Immaculate Virgin; so to continue and perfect His plan of social reform He lifted up human labor-which had become debased by contact with slavery-and restored it to its rightful place as one of the ennobling factors of life.

And the practical method adopted by Christ to teach the dignity of Labor was to choose a carpenter for His Foster Father, to work under him and learn a trade whereby He Himself might earn His bread in the sweat of His brow. He would come before the world as Jesus the Workman, the Carpenter’s Son.

Servile Work. One of the strange phenomena of history is the contempt in which for long centuries manual toil was regarded by many civilised nations. This was one of the evil fruits of slavery. Servile work was work fit only for slaves.

Jesus taught that the value of time is its relation to eternity. Our actions here are a preparation for our existence hereafter. The important thing is not what you do-but how you do it, namely in accordance with the Will of Him who planned your existence and is helping you to work out your destiny.

Just as in an automobile factory or a newspaper office there is endless variety of occupations, but all tending to the accomplishment of one purpose, all working in subordination to the Manager or Editor; so in the busy factory of life each man has a different task allotted to him-but all must work in accordance with the Master’s plan; and this conformity is secured by the practice of the Christian virtues.

The Workman’s Virtues. Now St. Joseph is the Model of workmen because in his life of toil he practised those Christian virtues so excellently; and the workman who wishes to make a right use of life and to travel safely on the road to God must imitate St. Joseph in the practice of those virtues.

He must therefore be strictly just in his dealings with others -giving to every man his due; he must be chaste and temperate in home life. He must be prudent in managing his affairs, avoiding extravagance and providing carefully for the maintenance and education of his children. Then too he must practise fortitude both in professing his faith and in facing the troubles of life. These are the four cardinal virtues. In dealing with employers and with his fellow-workers he must practise obedience and loyalty-be faithful to his word and faithful to his friends. Finally he must beware lest trials and disappointments-which come to every man-make him bitter or resentful, peevish or impatient, thus spoiling the happiness of home life and making his existence a burden to himself and others. And if poverty is his lot and he be forced to live in straitened circumstances, that too he will bear in a Christian spirit-out of love for Christ who was a poor man supporting Himself on the fruits of His toil.

Hence devotion to St. Joseph should play a prominent part in the spiritual life of every Catholic family. Jesus Himself has set the example-since it was He and His holy Mother who first practised this devotion: they lavished on St. Joseph all the wealth of affection, tenderness, and trust, which the most loving of sons and the most devoted of spouses could bestow. So that in loving and honoring St. Joseph we are simply following in their footsteps.

Imprimi Potest: Edward C. Phillips, S.J., Praep. Prov. Marylandae Neo-Eboracensis

Nihil Obstat; Arthur J. Scanland, S.T.D., Censor Liborum.

Imprimatur: Archbishop Patrick Cardinal Hayes, Archiepiscopus Neo-Eboracensis

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Saint Jude-Helper In Great Need

INDEX

HISTORY ACCORDING TO TRADITION

DEVOTION to the holy apostles should be cherished because they were the first teachers of our Faith. During the Middle Ages the Apostles were held in high veneration, but in our materialistic age this devotion has greatly declined, though veneration to St. Jude Thaddeus has been revived in recent years.

St. Jude is called the patron of hopeless and desperate cases, owing to singular help he has obtained for his clients in grave necessities.

This holy Apostle bears the surname “Thaddeus” (meaning the amiable, loving), which distinguishes him from Judas Iscariot, the traitor. Besides the Apostle James the Less, Jude had two other brothers, who together with himself are called the “brethren” of Jesus, which in Hebrew signifies a near relationship. His father was Cleophas, who was probably a brother of St. Joseph. Because of his fearless confession of the resurrection of Christ, Cleophas was put to death by the Jews and thus won the crown of martydom. The mother of our Apostle was Mary of Cleophas, a cousin of the Blessed Virgin, who with Mary stood by the Cross of Jesus on Calvary.

In his boyhood, Jude and his brothers must have been close companions of Jesus. No mention is made of Jude’s occupation before his call to the apostolate, but we may judge that he was a farmer, since he belonged to the Tribe of Juda, which was devoted to farming.

From the time Jude was chosen an Apostle, he laboured with untiring zeal, particularly for the conversion of the Gentiles.

CURE OF THE KING OF EDESSA

St. Jude is usually represented wearing a picture of Our Lord on his breast. This custom stems from the following tradition: Abagaro, King of Edessa, who was afflicted with leprosy, hearing of Our Lord’s miracles, sent a messenger begging Jesus to come and cure him. Being unable, at the time, to gratify his request, Our Lord sent word that He would send someone later to cure him. The king, anxious at least to have an image of the great Wonder-worker, sent an artist to make a portrait of Him; but the artist, blinded by the splendour of our Saviour’s face, was unable to carry out his mission. Whereupon Our Lord, in loving compassion, pressed a cloth to His face and impressed His features upon it. The artist carried this to his sovereign, who received it with great joy.

When, af ter Our Lord’s Ascension, St. Jude went to Edessa, he healed Abagaro of his frightful disease, and by his eloquent presentation of the truths of the Gospel, converted the king and his whole household, as well as many of his subjects.

CONVERSION OF BARBARIANS

After firmly establishing the Church in Edessa, St. Jude visited the whole of Mesopotamia, preaching the Gospel and everywhere increasing the number of the faithful. Having returned to Jerusalem for the Council of the Apostles, he afterwards joined St. Simon in Libya, where the two Apostles spread the light of the Gospel. Then they set out for Persia where God gave them an abundant harvest. It is impossible to compute the number converted or to describe the change in the manners and customs of that savage people.

Before the arrival of the two Apostles, the laws and habits of the Persians were unjust and wicked. The marriage tie was totally disregarded; the dead were thrown into the fields to become the food of wild beasts, and other barbarities prevailed. Taught by the Apostles the noble and generous sentiments of the true religion, these people soon became the admiration of other Christians. Barbarity was replaced by gentleness, cruelty by Christian charity, impiety by evangelical perfection.

APOSTOLIC LABOURS IN PERSIA

In Persia, the two Apostles were continually thwarted in their work by two magicians named Zaroes and Arfaxat. By their art and incantations these magicians tried to uphold the worship of idols. At every step they confronted the Apostles and denounced them as impostors, but the two saints invariably exposed their tricks and impostures. In the presence of the two holy Apostles, the idols refused to answer their false priests. When the Apostles, in the name of God, commanded them to speak, they were forced to acknowledge the saints as the disciples of the true God. The saints then ordered the demons inhabiting the idols to quit them, which they did, howling with rage and shattering the images.

The two Apostles set out for the camp of Verardach, commander-in-chief of the Persian army, where they were met by the same magicians, Zaroes and Arfaxat. The Persians were then preparing to march against an army from India, and Verardach was anxious to know what the outcome of the war wouldbe. “We know you are more powerful than our gods,” he said to the Apostles, “for at your approach the idols fell to the ground. After the war is over, we will gladly listen to your teaching. Tell us what the result of the war will be.”

The Apostles commanded the demons to answer. Questioned by their priests, the idols replied that the war would be long and many would perish.

“Fear not, O Prince, your gods lie:” joyfully exclaimed the two Apostles. “Tomorrow, at this same hour, ambassadors will arrive fromyour enemy to conclude negotiations of peace.”

On the following day the ambassadors from India arrived at the hour designated by the two saints, and terms of peace were agreed upon. The Prince, indignant at the false prophecies of the wicked magicians, ordered them to be burned alive, and likewise all who maligned the holy Apostles. But Saints Simon and Jude interceded with the commander, and the punishment was averted.

Filled with admiration for the two Apostles, Prince Verardach conducted them to the King of Persia. Here they also performed miracles to frustrate the wicked designs of the same magicians, who had preceded them there. Everywhere great numbers were converted to the Faith. In all the towns and villages traversed by Saints Simon and Jude, they found that the magicians had gone before them to prejudice and incite the people against them; but at the approach of the Apostles, the impostors invariably fled.

Once a number of idolatrous priests assembled before their king, bringing the two Apostles for condemnation. The priests held charmed serpents in their hands and set them loose upon the Apostles. The snakes, however, turning upon the priests, encircled and bit them until the Apostles commanded the reptiles to cease. Some serpents were laid on the ground and the Apostles were commanded to take them up. They did so, and held them to their breasts beneath their mantles without being bitten. The priests were then told to take up the snakes. When they took hold of them, the reptiles bit their hands and curled around them, causing the priests to cry out in terror. At the sight of this wonder, many people were converted, and the king also embraced the Christian Faith.

MARTYRDOM

The fact that numberless souls were brought to accept the true religion by St. Jude aroused the hatred of unbelievers and secured for the holy Apostle the crown of martyrdom. Authorities differ as to the manner of his death. Tradition states that he was beaten with clubs and his head cleft with a broadax.

His body was brought to Rome and is now honoured in St. Peter’s Basilica. Pope Paul III, in a Brief dated September 22, 1548, granted a plenary indulgence to all who visited his tomb on his feast, which is celebrated on October 28. This shows that devotion to St. Jude flourished in the Middle Ages, for the grant of a plenary indulgence was then very rare. Though the body of the holy Apostle rests in St. Peter’s in Rome, his helpful, living charity is diffused throughout the world, and in every country people experience his wonderful aid in difficulties and trials of the most helpless nature.

St. Jude seems to have been among the last of the twelve Apostles to die for his Master, as he implies by the 17th verse of his Epistle: “Beloved, be mindful of the words that have been spoken beforehand by the Apostles of our Lord Jesus Christ.” His Epistle is in keeping with the amiable disposition which tradition ascribes to him. “Beloved, build up yourselves upon your most holy Faith, praying in the Holy Spirit. Keep yourselves in the love of God, looking for the mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ unto life everlasting” (1, 20–21).

Though the Epistle of St. Jude is one of the shortest in the New Testament, it is remarkable for the strength and grandeur of its language. It applies clearly to the eventful times in which we now live. The profound humility of St. Jude shines forth in a singular manner. Far from calling himself a relative of Jesus, though he was such, St. Jude terms himself a servant of Jesus Christ.

POWERFUL HELPER IN EXTREME NEED

St. Jude Thaddeus shows his special help and protection in circumstances deemed most difficult and desperate. Thus he has become universally known as the “Patron of hopeless and desperate cases.”

St. Jude has obtained recovery for those stricken with maladies which defied all human skill and remedies; he has obtained grace to overcome deeply-rooted evil habits-those afflictions of the soul which are far more difficult to cure than any bodily ailment. Because of his own love for purity, and his zealous care in preserving it, he has come to be regarded as a special protector of this holy virtue. Not only does he help pure souls to retain their purity, but he also speedily aids those assailed by impure thoughts and enslaved by impure habits.

The holy Apostle obtains help in anguish, distress, calumny, poverty, misery, yes, even in despair and in circumstances where aid seems utterly impossible. In return, he demands our confidence, love and gratitude. If our requests are not immediately granted precisely according to our own ideas and wishes, they surely will be, sooner or later, according to the designs of God.

A shining example of veneration of this holy Apostle is given us by St. Bernard of Clairvaux, who during his whole life highly honoured a relic of St. Jude. When he died, St. Bernard asked that the relic be placed upon his breast and buried with him, that he might not be entirely without him whom in life he had found to be a powerful protector of his purity and a potent helper in every circumstance.

All who are in tribulation should be filled with confidence in the intercession of St. Jude, for the miraculous virtue of our prayer proceeds from confidence, the saints tell us. St. Jude is the helper, the consoler of all oppressed with heavy trials.

St. Jude, pray for us,

And for all who invoke thine aid.

THE EPISTLE OF ST. JUDE THE APOSTLE

Jude, the servant of Jesus Christ and the brother of James, to the called who have been loved in God the Father and preserved for Christ Jesus: mercy and peace and charity be given you in abundance.

Beloved, while I was making every endeavour to write you about our common salvation, I found it necessary to write to you, exhorting you to contend earnestly for the Faith, once for all delivered to the saints. For certain men have stealthily entered in who long ago were marked for this condemnation, ungodly men who turn the grace of God into wantonness and disown our only Master and Lord, Jesus Christ.

But 1 desire to remind you, though once for all you have come to know all things, that Jesus, who saved the people from the land of Egypt, the next time destroyed those who did not believe. And the angels also who did not preserve their original state, but forsook their abode, He has kept in everlasting chains under darkness for the judgement of the great day. Just as Sodom and Gomorrah, and the neighbouring cities which like them committed sins of immorality and practised unnatural vice, have been made an example, undergoing the punishment of eternal fire.

In like manner do these men also defile the flesh, disregard authority, deride majesty. Yet when Michael the Archangel was fiercely disputing with the devil about the body of Moses, he did not venture to bring against him an accusation of blasphemy, but said, “May the Lord rebuke thee.” But these men deride whatever they do not know; and the things they know by instinct, like dumb beasts, become for them a source of destruction. Woe to them! For they have gone in the way of Cain, and have rushed on thoughtlessly into the error of Balaam for the sake of gain, and have perished in the rebellion of Core. These men are stains on their feasts, banqueting together, without fear, looking after themselves, clouds without water, carried about by the winds; trees in the fall, unfruitful, twice dead, uprooted; wild waves of the sea, foaming up their shame; wandering stars for whom the storm of darkness has been reserved forever.

Now of these also, Henoch, theseventh from Adam, prophesied, saying, “Behold, the Lord has come with thousands of His holy ones to execute judgement upon all and to convict all the impious of their impious works, and all the hard things that impious sinners have spoken against Him:” These are grumbling murmurers walking according to their lusts. And haughty in speech, they cultivate people for the sake of gain. But as for you, beloved, be mindful of the words that have been spoken beforehand by the Apostles of our Lord Jesus Christ who kept saying to you that at the end of time there will come scoffers, walking impiously according to their desires. These are they who set themselves apart, sensual men, not having the Spirit.

But as for you, beloved, build up yourselves upon your most holy Faith, praying in the Holy Spirit. Keep yourselves in the love of God, looking for the mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ unto life everlasting. And some, who are judged, reprove; but others, save, snatching them from the fire. And to others be merciful with fear, hating even the garment which is soiled by the flesh.

Now to Him who is able to preserve you without sin and to set you before the presence of His glory, without blemish, in gladness, to the only God our Saviour, through Jesus Christ our Lord, belong glory and majesty, dominion and authority, before all time, and now and forever. Amen.

EXPLANATION OF ST. JUDE’S EPISTLE

During the time of St. Jude’s apostolate, certain errors had spread among the Hebrew Christians. It was to caution them against these falsehoods, as well as to exhort them to be faithful to the teachings of the Apostles, that this Epistle was written. St. Jude inveighed especially against practices of simony and heretical beliefs advocated among the early Christians.

In his Epistle, St. Jude urged the faithful to remain steadfast in the doctrine and practices taught by the Apostles, who had foretold that in aftertimes there would be false teachers who would scoff at and ridicule all revealed truths, abandoning themselves to their passions and lusts; men who would separate themselves from the Catholic communion by heresies and schisms: carnal men enslaved by the pleasures of the senses. That such men would be severely punished, he said, was evident from the punishment of the unbelieving Israelites in the desert, of the wicked angels and of the inhabitants of Sodom and Gomorrah. St. Jude foretold for heretics the same punishment meted out to Cain, Balaam, and the sons of Core, because they imitated the errors of those wicked ones. To the pride of their wicked teachings and life he opposed the modesty of the Archangel Michael.

St. Jude likewise exhorted the early Christians to erect a true spiritual edifice by living lives founded upon faith, love of God, ardent hope, and prayer, while awaiting the mercies of God and the reward of eternal life. He exhorted them to practise fraternal charity and cautioned them that in their efforts to win converts they would encounter three types of persons:

First, those obstinate in their errors and sins, who must be regarded as already judged and condemned. These, he said, should be reproved and, if possible, convinced of their error.

Second, those who would be willing to listen to their admonitions. These, he said, they should save by pulling them, as it were, out of the fire and the ruin of which they were in danger.

Third, those who either through ignorance or weakness were liable to be drawn into the snares of the heretics. These must be dealt with more gently and with .a charitable compassion, and must be taught to hate even the garment which is soiled by the flesh, meaning the sensual and corrupt actions which defile the body and soul.

So strikingly applicable to our own times are the exhortations contained in this Epistle that they might well have been addressed to the Christians of the twentieth century. False teachers and errors without number are today being spread throughout the world, and the Catholics of our time truly need to be exhorted to remain steadfast in their Faith if they would escape being drawn into this whirlpool.

The means which St. Jude proposed to the early Christians to maintain the Faith and keep themselves in the love of God are no other than those which the Church in our own times holds out and has always held out to her children. His recommendations as to the manner of dealing with those who have in any way erred from the truth apply equally to the faithful of the present day. His counsels may be said to contain the germ of Catholic Action-that form of participation in the salvation of souls to which the laity of our days are so earnestly exhorted.

St. Jude concludes his Epistle with a beautiful doxology, praising God for the gift of the Incarnation, by means of which the Eternal Word took upon Himself our human nature, that He might become our Redeemer.

TO IMPLORE THE INTERCESSION OF ST. JUDE

One of the most powerful means to obtain the aid of St. Jude is to have the holy Sacrifice of the Mass offered in his honour. A triduum or a novena of Masses (that is, a Mass on three or on nine consecutive days) is so much the more powerful. Or one may assist at Holy Mass for such a number of days in his honour.

Receiving Holy Communion in his honour is also a powerful form of imploring his help; and grateful clients often express their thanks by offering Holy Masses and Communions after receiving his help.

Novenas (prayers said for nine days in succession) are also powerful means of obtaining St. Jude’s assistance.

Another effective means for obtaining his help is to make an offering to some charitable cause or perform some other good work in his honour. Nothing gives us a sure pledge of God’s help and the intercession of the Saints than works of mercy. St. Leo says, “Prayer has the greatest efficacy to obtain favours from God when it is supported by works of mercy.” Lefer, a pious priest, asserts: “Persons of all classes in the most desperate situations came to me. Frequently all means failed to obtain the longedfor grace until I said to them: “Practise charity.” If they followed this advice, they invariably received help.”

MASS IN HONOUR OF ST. JUDE

These prayers may be said in their proper place as you follow the Ordinary of the Mass from your prayer book or

Missal.

INTROIT. PS. 138. To me Thy friends, O God, are made exceedingly honourable: Their principality is exceedingly strengthened. Ps. Lord, Thou hast proved me, and known me: Thou hast known my sitting down and my rising up. V. Glory be to the Father . . .

COLLECT. O God, who through Thy blessed Apostle Jude hast brought us unto the knowledge of Thy Name, grant that by advancing in virtue we may set forth his everlasting glory, and by setting forth his glory, we may advance in virtue. Through our Lord Jesus Christ . . .

EPISTLE. EPH. 4. Brethren: To each one of us grace was given according to the measure of Christ’s bestowal. Thus it says, “Ascending on high, He led away captives, He gave gifts to men.” Now this, “He ascended,” what does it mean but that He also first descended into the lower parts of the earth? He who descended, He it is who ascended also above all the heavens, that He might fill all things. And He Himself gave some men as apostles, and some as prophets, others again as evangelists, and others as pastors and teachers, in order to perfect the saints for a work of ministry, for building up the Body of Christ, until we all attain to the unity of the faith and of deep knowledge of the Son of God, to perfect manhood, to the mature measure of the fullness of Christ.

GRADUAL. Ps. 44. Thou shalt make them princes aver all the earth: they shall remember Thy Name, O Lord. V. Instead of Thy fathers, sons are born to Thee: therefore shall people praise Thee. Alleluia, Alleluia. V. Ps. 138. Thy friends, O God, are made exceedingly honourable: their principality is exceedingly strengthened. Alleluia.

GOSPEL. JOHN 15. At that time, Jesus said to His disciples: “These things I command you that you love one another. If the world hates you, know that it has hated Me before you. If I were of the world, the world would love what is its own. But because you are not of the world, but I have chosen you out of the world, therefore the world hates you. No servant is greater than his master. If they have persecuted Me, they will persecute you also; if they have kept My word, they will keep yours also. But all these things they will do to you for My Name’s sake, because they do not know Him who sent Me. If I had not come and spoken to them, they would have no sin. He who hates Me, hates My Father also. If I had not done among them works such as no one else has done, they would have no sin. But now they have seen and have hated both Me and My Father; but that the word written in their law may be fulfilled, “They have hated Me without cause.””

OFFERTORY. Ps. 18. Their sound went forth into all the earth; and their words unto all the ends of the world.

SECRET. We who honour the eternal glory of Thy holy Apostle Jude beseech Thee, O Lord, that, being cleansed by these holy mysteries, we may become more worthy to do him homage. Through our Lord . . .

PREFACE. It is truly meet and just, right and availing unto salvation, humbly to pray Thee, O Lord, the eternal Shepherd, to abandon not Thy flock; but through Thy blessed Apostles to keep a continual watch over it; that it may be governed by those same rulers whom Thou didst set over it as shepherds and as Thy vicars. And therefore with the angels and archangels, the thrones and dominations, and the whole host of the heavenly army, we sing the hymn of Thy glory, saying again and again: Holy, holy, holy . .

COMMUNION. MATT. 19. You who have followed Me shall sit on thrones judging the twelve tribes of Israel, saith the Lord.

POSTCOMMUNION. Having received Thy Sacraments, O Lord, we humbly entreat Thee, that through the intercession of Thy blessed Apostle Jude, what we do in honour of his martyrdom may avail us as a healing remedy. Through our Lord . . .

OFFERING

O Eternal Father, I offer Thee this holy Sacrifice to Thy highest praise, with that same intention and for the same aim and end as Thy beloved Son, the eternal High Priest, Jesus Christ, Himself, offers it to Thee. I offer it especially for the greater glory and beatitude of St. Jude Thaddeus, in thanksgiving for all the graces and eternal bliss bestowed upon him, and for my spiritual and temporal needs, particularly for . . . Amen.

NOVENAS

Any of the following prayers may be used for a Novena, according to one’s needs.

1. PRAYER FOR SPECIAL FAVOUR

Glorious Apostle, St. Jude Thaddeus, true relative of Jesus and Mary, I greet thee through the Sacred Heart of Jesus. Through this Heart I praise and thank God for all the graces He has bestowed upon thee. Humbly prostrate before thee, I implore thee, through this Heart, to look down upon me with compassion. Despise not my poor prayer; let not my trust be confounded! To thee God has granted the privilege of aiding mankind in the most desperate cases. Oh, come to my aid, that I may praise the mercies of God! All my life I will be grateful to thee and will be thy faithful client until I can thank thee in heaven. Amen.

2. PRAYER FOR SPIRITUAL HELP

Glorious Apostle, martyr, and relative of Jesus, St. Jude Thaddeus, thou spreadest the true faith among the most barbarous and distant nations, and won to the obedience of Jesus Christ many tribes and peoples by the power of His holy word. Grant, I beseech thee, that from this day I may renounce every sinful habit, that I may be preserved from all evil thoughts, that I may always obtain thine assistance, particularly in every danger and difficulty, and that I may safely reach the heavenly country, with thee to adore the Most Holy Trinity the Father, Son and Holy Spirit, forever and ever. Amen.

3. PRAYER FOR HELP IN TRIALS

This and the following prayer may be said in great affliction, or when one seems to be deprived of all visible help, and for cases despaired of.

Most holy Apostle, St. Jude faithful servant and friend of Jesus, the name of the traitor who delivered thy beloved Master into the hands of His enemies has caused thee to be forgotten by many. But the Church honours and invokes thee universally as the patron of hopeless cases-of things despaired of. Pray for me who am so miserable. Make use, I implore thee, of that particular privilege accorded thee of bringing visible and speedy help where help is almost despaired of. Come to my assistance in this great need, that I may receive the consolations and succour of heaven in all my necessities, tribulations and sufferings, particularly . . . (here make your request) and that I may bless God with thee and all the elect through eternity.

I promise thee, O blessed St. Jude, to be ever mindful of this great favour, and I will never cease to honour thee as my special and powerful patron and to do all in my power to encourage devotion to thee: Amen.

4. PRAYER IN GRIEVOUS AFFLICTION

St. Jude Thaddeus, relative of Jesus and Mary, glorious Apostle and martyr, renowned for thy virtues and miracles, faithful and prompt intercessor for all who honour thee and trust in thee! Powerful patron and helper in grievous affliction, I come to thee and entreat thee with all my heart to come to my aid, for thou hast received from God the privilege of assisting with manifest help those who almost despair. Look down upon me; my life is a life of crosses, my days are full of tribulation, and my paths are strewn with thorns, and scarcely one moment passes but is witness of my tears and sighs. My soul is enveloped in darkness, disquietude, discouragement, mistrust; yes, sometimes even a kind of despair preys upon my soul. Divine Providence seems lost to my sight, and faith seems to falter in my heart. Overwhelmed by these thoughts, I see myself surrounded by a dark cloud. Thou cannot forsake me in this sad plight! I will not depart from thee until thou hast heard me. Oh! hasten to my aid. I will honour thee as my special patron. I will thank God for the graces bestowed upon thee, and will propagate thine honour according to my power. Amen.

In great affliction one may promise the Apostle, in case he will help, to distribute a certain number of these booklets in thanksgiving. This means of spreading devotion to him is an effective way of obtaining his help.

5. PRAYER FOR A SICK PERSON

Almighty and Eternal God, the everlasting salvation of those who believe: hear us on behalf of Thy servant N . . . for whom we implore the aid of Thy tender mercy, that being restored to bodily health, he (she) may give thanks to Thee in Thy church, through Christ Our Lord. Amen.

PRAISE AND THANKSGIVING

It was revealed to St. Gertrude that it is a source of great joy to the saints when we praise and thank God for the graces and privileges He has bestowed upon them. Clients of St. Jude should recite the following act of thanksgiving frequently.

O most sweet Lord Jesus Christ, in union with the unutterable praise with which the Most Holy Trinity extols Itself and which thence flows upon Thy Sacred Humanity, upon Mary, upon all the angels and saints, I praise, glorify and bless Thee for all the graces and privileges Thou hast bestowed upon Thy chosen Apostle and intimate friend, Jude Thaddeus. I pray Thee for the sake of his merits, grant me Thy grace, and through his intercession come to my aid in all my needs. Especially at the hour of my death deign to strengthen me against the rage of my enemies. Amen.

LITANY OF ST. JUDE (FOR PRIVATE DEVOTION)

Lord, have mercy on us.

Christ, have mercy on us.

Lord, have mercy on us.

Christ, hear us.

Christ, graciously hear us.

God the Father of heaven, Have mercy on us

God the Son, Redeemer of the world, etc

God the Holy Spirit,

Holy Trinity, one God,

St. Jude, relative of Jesus and Mary, Pray for us

St. Jude, while on earth deemed worthy to see Jesus and Mary, and to enjoy their company, etc.

St. Jude, raised to the dignity of an Apostle,

St. Jude, honoured in beholding the Divine Master humble Himself to wash thy feet,

St. Jude, who at the Last Supper received the Holy Eucharist from the hands of Jesus, Pray for us St. Jude, who after the profound grief which the death of thy beloved Master caused thee, had the consolation of beholding Him risen from the dead, and of assisting at His glorious Ascension, etc.

St. Jude, filled with the Holy Spirit on the day of Pentecost,

St. Jude, who preached the Gospel in Persia,

St. Jude, who converted many people to the Faith,

St. Jude, who performed wonderful miracles in the power of the Holy Spirit,

St. Jude, who restored an idolatrous king to health of both soul and body,

St. Jude, who imposed silence on demons and confounded their oracles,

St. Jude, who foretold to a weak prince an honourable peace with his powerful enemy,

St. Jude, who took from deadly serpents the power of injuring man,

St. Jude, who disregarding the threats of the impious, courageously preached the doctrine of Christ, St. Jude, who gloriously suffered martyrdom for the love of thy Divine Master,

Blessed Apostle, with confidence we invoke thee! (Three times).

St. Jude, help of the hopeless, aid me in my distress! (Three times).

That by thy intercession, both priests and people of the Church may obtain an ardent zeal for the Faith of Jesus Christ,

We beseech thee, hear us.

That thou wouldst defend our Sovereign Pontiff and obtain peace and unity for the Holy Church, etc. That all heathens and unbelievers may be converted to the true Faith,

That faith, hope and charity may increase in our hearts,

That we may be delivered from evil thoughts and from the snares of the devil,

That thou wouldst deign to aid and protect all those who honour thee

That thou wouldst preserve us from all sin and from all occasions of sin,

That thou wouldst defend us at the hour of death against the fury of the devil and of all evil spirits, Pray for us, that before death we may expiate all our sins by sincere repentance and the worthy reception of the holy sacraments,

Pray for us, that we may appease the Divine Justice and obtain a favourable judgement,

Pray for us, that we may be admitted into the company of the blessed, to rejoice in the presence of our God forever. Lamb of God, who takest away the sins of the world,

SPARE US, O LORD

Lamb of God, who takest away the sins of the world,

GRACIOUSLY HEAR US, O LORD

Lamb of God, who takest away the sins of the world,

HAVE MERCY ON US

St. Jude, pray for us

And for all who invoke thine aid.

Imprimi Potest: A: Castellotto, S.S.P. Printed with Ecclesiastical Approval Sydney, January 18, 1964. ********

Saint Louis IX, King of France, Conf

INDEX

A.D. 1270

I N the person of St Louis IX were united the qualities which form a great king, a hero of romance, and a saint. He was endowed with qualifications for good government, he excelled in the arts of peace and in those of war, and his courage and greatness of mind received from his virtue the highest setting; ambition had no share in his enterprises, his only motives in them was the glory of God and the good of his subjects. Though the two crusades in which he was engaged were failures, he is certainly to be ranked among the most valiant of princes, and a perfect example of the good and great medieval nobleman. He was son of Louis VIII and was eight years old when the death of his grandfather, Philip II Augustus, put his father in possession of the crown of France. He was born at Poissy on April 25, 1215, and, because he had been there made a Christian by the grace of baptism, he afterwards honoured that place above others; he took pleasure in bestowing charities and doing other good actions there, and in his letters and private transactions he signed himself “Louis of Poissy.” His mother was Blanche, daughter of Alfonso of Castile and Eleanor of England, and to her care and attention in the education of St Louis we are indebted, under God, for the great example of his virtues. From his birth she would never suffer him to be put out to nurse, and gave all possible attention to his education and that of her other children. She appointed his tutors, from whom he became a master in the Latin tongue, learned to speak in public and to write with grace and dignity, and was instructed in the arts of war and of government, and all the accomplishments of a king. But it was his mother’s first care to instil into his soul the highest regard and awe for everything that pertained to divine worship, religion and virtue, and a particular love of chastity. She used often to say to him when he was achild, “I love you, my dear son, as much as a mother can love her child; but I would rather see you dead at my feet than that you should ever commit a mortal sin.” Nor did Louis forget the lesson. His friend and biographer, the Sieur de Joinville, historian of the Crusades, relates that the King once asked him, in the presence of some friars,” What is God?” Joinville replied,” That which is so good that there could be nothing better.” “Well said. Now tell me, would you rather be a leper or commit a mortal sin?

“And I, who never told a lie,” says Joinville, “answered, I would rather commit thirty mortal sins than be a leper.’ Later Louis led him apart and took him to task for his honest but misguided reply.

King Louis VIII died on November 7, 1226, and Queen Blanche was declared regent for her son, who was then only eleven years old.

To prevent seditions she hastened the ceremony of his coronation, which was performed at Reims on the first Sunday of Advent by the Bishop of Soissons, the archbishopric of Reims being then vacant. The young King trembled in taking the coronation oath, begging of God resolution, light, and strength to employ his authority according to his obligations, for the divine honour, the defence of the Church, and the good of his people. Several of the feudal lords of the kingdom, thinking to take the opportunity of the King’s minority, entered into a confederation, and made many extravagant demands. None of these would be present at the coronation, and they appeared in arms soon after it was over. The chief were Philip, Count of Boulogne, a natural son of Philip Augustus, Peter Mauclerc, who was Count of Brittany, Raymund of Languedoc, Hugh of Lusignan, Count of La Marche, and Thibault, Count of Champagne, afterwards King of Navarre. The whole time of the King’s minority was disturbed by these ambitious barons, but Blanche by several alliances and by her courage and diligence overcame them in the field and forced their submission. Louis rejoiced in his victories chiefly because he procured by them the blessings of peace to his subjects. He was merciful even to rebels, and by his readiness to receive any proposals of agreement gave the proof that he neither sought revenge nor conquests. Never had any man a greater love for the Church, or a greater veneration for its ministers. Yet this was not blind; he opposed the injustices of bishops, when he saw them betrayed into any, and did not listen to their complaints till he had given a full hearing to the other party, as he showed in the contests of the Bishops of Beauvais and Metz with the corporations of those cities. In 1240 Pope Gregory IX, in the broils which the Emperor Frederick II had raised about the investitures of bishops, wrote to St Louis and proposed Robert, the King’s brother,as emperor in Frederick’s place. Louis did not accept the proposal and continued to interest himself in procuring a reconciliation of the Emperor to the Holy See. When Cardinal Fieschi, a Genoese, was elected under the name of Innocent IV these struggles were yet more bitter, and the Pope at the Council of Lyons in 1245 excommunicated Frederick II and took away his imperial crown. But St Louis would not interfere on either side ; he continued to treat the Emperor as such, and bent all his energies towards peace and to diverting these energies into a crusade against the Saracens.

This good King was never so happy as when he enjoyed the conversation of holy priests or other religious men, and he often invited such to his house, but he knew how to observe seasons with a decent liberty. Once when a friar had started a grave religious topic at table, he turned the discourse to another subject, saying, “All things have their time.” He celebrated feasts and rejoicings on the creation of knights and other such occasions with great magnificence, but banished from his court all diversions dangerous to morals. And he would tolerate neither vulgar obscenity nor thoughtless profanity; “I was a good twenty-two years in the holy King’s company,” says Joinville, “and never once did I hear him swear, either by God or His mother or His saints. I did not even hear him name the Devil, except if he met the word when reading aloud, or when discussing what had been read.” And a Dominican testified that he had never heard him speak ill-naturedly of anyone. When he was urged to put to death the rebel son of Hugh de la Marche, he refused, saying, “A son cannot refuse to obey his father’s orders.”

When he was nineteen St Louis married Margaret, the eldest daughter of Raymund Berenger, Count of Provence, whose second daughter, Eleanor, was married to Henry III, King of England; his third, Sanchia, to his brother Richard of Cornwall, afterwards King of the Romans ; and Beatrice, the youngest, to Charles, brother to St Louis. The marriage was celebrated on May 27, 1234, at Sens, and God blessed it with a happy union of hearts and eleven children, five sons, six daughters, from whose descendants kings were given to France until that January 21, 1793, when the Abbé Edgeworth said to Louis XVI as the guillotine was about to fall, “Son of St Louis, go up to Heaven!” Two years later, having come of age, St Louis took the government of his kingdom into his own hands. But he continued to show the greatest deference to his mother, and to profit by her counsel, though Blanche was inclined to be jealous of and unkind to her daughter-in-law. The first of many religious foundations for which Louis was responsible was the abbey of Royaumont. His father had ordered in his will that the price of his jewels should be laid out in founding a monastery; St Louis very much increased that sum, and made the foundation truly royal and magnificent. This was one of those places to which he frequently retired for solitude and to attend to God with more perfect recollection. In 1239 Baldwin II, the Latin Emperor of Constantinople, made St Louis (in gratitude for his largesse to the Christians in Palestine and other parts of the East) a present of the Crown of Thorns,* which was formerly kept in the imperial palace but was then in the hands of the Venetians as a pledge for a loan of money to Baldwin, which Louis had to discharge. He sent two Dominican friars to bring this treasure to France, and met it himself beyond Sens, attended with his whole court and numerous clergy. To house it he pulled down his chapel of St Nicholas and built the Sainte Chapelle, which is now empty of its relic.* He brought the Carthusians to Paris and endowed them with the palace of Vauvert, and helped his mother in the foundation of the convent of Maubuisson.

Several ordinances of this prince show us how much he applied himself to see justice well administered. In succeeding reigns, whenever complaints were raised among the people, the cry of those dissatisfied was to demand that abuses should be reformed and justice impartially administered as was done in the reign of St Louis. In 1230, he forbade all manner of usury, and restrained the Jews in particular from practising it. He compelled them to restore what they had exacted and, where the creditors could not be found, to give such gains towards the crusade which Gregory IX was endeavouring to set on foot. He published a law commanding all who should be guilty of blasphemy to be branded, and thus punished a rich citizen of Paris, a person of great consideration; to some of his courtiers who murmured at this severity he said that he would undergo that punishment himself if thus he might put a stop to the *What remains of it is now in Notre Dame de Paris and is, in fact, only part of the rush foundation, with no thorns thereon. Several of these were given away by St Louis in golden reliquaries: one such is in the British Museum and appears still to contain the thorn it was made to enshrine. After the Revolution what remained of the crown, or its rush foundation, was brought to light in 1805 through the compunction of an “insufficiently apostatized” priest, the Abbé Cotterel. crime. But afterwards, on the advice of Pope Clement IV, he reduced the punishment to a fine, flogging, or imprisonment, according to the circumstances. He protected vassals from oppressive lords, and when a Flemish count had hanged three children for hunting rabbits in his woods, had him imprisoned in the Louvre and tried, not by his peers as he demanded, but by the ordinary judges, who condemned him to death. He afterwards spared his life, but subjected him to a fine which deprived him of the greater part of his estates. This money the King ordered to be expended on religious and charitable works. He forbade feudal lords ever to make private war upon one another, which custom had been the occasion of continual bloodshed and disorders. The scholars and doctors of the University of Paris, upon an alleged infraction of their privileges by the execution of certain students for murder, closed the university for two years; when feeling was worked up to the highest pitch, the prudence of St Louis brought about the satisfaction of both parties. His scrupulous fidelity in keeping his word and observing treaties was notable in all negotiations, and his impartial and inflexible integrity made barons, prelates and even foreign kings ask to have him for judge and arbitrator, and put their affairs into his hands. He was extremely careful in his dealings with other princes, not to be drawn into their quarrels, and he used all possible good offices to reconcile their differences. When he had to reduce rebels hecaused the damage which innocent persons had received, even by his enemy’s forces, to be inquired into and full restitution to be made for them. The Count of La Marche again made trouble soon after the King’s majority; his estates were a fief of Poitou and he refused to pay homage to the Count of Poitiers, the brother of St Louis. Hugh’s wife, Isabel, was the widow of King John and mother of Henry III of England, who came over to support his stepfather. St Louis defeated King Henry III (who was never born to be a soldier) at Taillebourg, upon the Charente, and the city of Saintes opened its gates to him in 1242. Henry III fled to Bordeaux and the next year returned to England, having made a truce with the French. Fifteen years later Louis concluded another treaty, that of Paris, with Henry III. By it he yielded to England Limousin, Quercy, and Perigord, and the reversion of Agenais and Saintogne, King Henry III renouncing, on his side, all pretensions to Normandy, Anjou, Maine, Touraine, and Poitou. The French criticized their sovereign’s concessions, and Louis replied that he hoped by them to cement a lasting peace between the two nations, and that it was very honourable to his crown to have so great a king as vassal for Guienne. But some historians are of the opinion that had Louis pushed home his advantage the Hundred Years’ War would have been averted for his successors.

In December 1244 St Louis was seized at Pontoise with a violent dysentery and fever, which rapidly got worse. He became comatose and was thought to be already dead. Then a piece of the true cross and other relics that had been sent him by the Emperor Baldwin were brought, and applied to his body. Soon after this he began to move, and was heard to murmur, “The Light-bringer from on high has visited me by the grace of God, and has called me back from the dead.” Then, speaking with difficulty, he announced his intention of undertaking a crusade to the East (which had been long in his mind), and calling for the Bishop of Paris he desired him to receive his vow for that expedition, and to put the badge of the cross on his shoulder. At this the two Queens, his mother and wife, fell at his feet weeping, and the Bishops of Paris and Meaux urged him not to entertain such a thought. But he was not by any means to be moved from his decision and in the beginning of the next year he renewed his vow, and by letter assured the Christians in Palestine that he would make all possible haste to their assistance against the infidels, who a few months before had retaken Jerusalem. But the opposition of his councillors and nobles, the preparation of the expedition, and the settling of his kingdom put off his departure for three and a half years. At the thirteenth general council at Lyons in 1245 all benefices were taxed a twentieth of their income for three years for the relief of the Holy Land (the English representatives strongly protested against this), and this gave encouragement to the crusaders. The Queen Mother was named regent, as the King’s three brothers and the Queen Consort were to accompany him; on June 15, 1248, he took the Oriflamme of St Denis at Paris; and sailed from Aigues Mortes on August 27 for Cyprus, where he was joined by William Longsword, Earl of Salisbury, and two hundred English knights. The objective was Egypt, whose sultan, Melek Seleh, had made use of the Kharizmians, fleeing from Jenghiz Khan and the Mongols, to overrun Palestine. Damietta, in the delta of the Nile, was easily taken and St Louis made a solemn entry into the city, not with the pomp of a conqueror but with the humility of a truly Christian prince, walking barefoot with the Queen, the princes his brothers, the King of Cyprus and other great lords, preceded by the papal legate, the Latin Patriarch of Jerusalem, and all the clergy of the camp. Returning humble thanks to God, they went in this manner to the principal mosque, which the legate purified and consecrated with the usual ceremonies of the Church, dedicating it under the name of the Mother of God. The King ordered that all plundering and other crimes should be strictly inquired into and punished, and that ample restitution should be made. He forbade any infidel to be slain whom it was possible to make prisoner, and he took care that all who desired to embrace the Faith should be instructed and baptized. But notwithstanding all his watchfulness, whilst the army stayed about Damietta many, to his grief, gave themselves up to debauchery and outrageous acts of violence. Owing to the rising of the Nile and the summer heat the crusaders could not follow up their advantage, and it was not till six months had passed that they advanced to attack the Saracens, who were the other side of the river, in Mansourah. Then followed another six months of desultory fighting, in which the crusaders lost many by battle and sickness, until in April 1250 St Louis himself was taken prisoner, and his army routed with frightful slaughter.

During his captivity the King recited the Divine Office every day with two chaplains just as if he had been in perfect health in his own palace, and he also had the prayers of the Mass read (without the consecration) that he might the better join in spirit and desire with the Church in her daily sacrifice. To the insults that were sometimes offered him he opposed an air of majesty and authority which kept his guards in awe. When he was asked and refused to give up the castles in Syria he was threatened with the most ignominious treatment and with torture; to which he coolly replied that they were masters of his body, and might do with it what they pleased. The Sultan sent to him a proposal by which he demanded a million bezants of gold and the city of Damietta for his ransom and that of the other prisoners. He answered that a king of France ought not to redeem himself for money, but that he would give the city for his own release and the million bezants for that of all the other prisoners. The Sultan at that time was overthrown by the Mameluke emirs, and these eventually released the King and the other prisoners on these terms, but the sick and wounded crusaders in Damietta they treacherously slew. St Louis then sailed to Palestine with the remainder of his army. There he remained until 1254, visiting all the holy places he could, encouraging the Christians, and strengthening the defences of the Latin kingdom-such as it was. Then, news being brought to him of the death of his mother, the Queen Regent, he returned to France. He had been away almost six years, but he was oppressed by the memory of the distresses of the Christians in the East and he continued to wear the cross on his clothes to show that he intended to return to their assistance. Their position got rapidly worse: between 1263 and 1268 the Mameluke Bibars took Nazareth, Caesarea, Jaffa, and Antioch.

The Treaty of Antiens with Henry III of England in 1258 has been mentioned. Five years later Henry and his barons, having exhausted the realm by their disputes, agreed on both sides to make St Louis their judge, and engaged themselves to submit to his decision, so great was the opinion of his wisdom, equity, and uprightness. The King and Queen of England, Prince Edmund, and many bishops and lords of their party, and a great number of the confederate barons on the other side, came to Amiens. St Louis, after both parties had pleaded, by a definitive sentence annulled all the articles granted by Henry to the barons in the “Mad Parliament,” called the Provisions of Oxford, as being extorted by compulsion and as innovations injurious to the royal majesty; but he confirmed to the barons their ancient privileges. About 1257 Master Robert de Sorbon, a canon and very learned doctor of Paris, laid the foundations of that theological institute in the city which became known after him as the Sorbonne. Master Robert was a personal friend of St Louis and sometimes acted as his confessor, and the King enthusiastically seconded his project, helped to endow it, and obtained for it the approbation of Pope Clement IV. It became practically the theological faculty of the University of Paris, and until the rise of Jansenism and the Revolution it was one of the chief schools of Europe. The King also founded in Paris, for poor blind men, the hospital of QuinzeVingt, so called because there were in it at the first foundation three hundred such patients. He likewise made provision of all kinds for the poor; in addition to thirteen special indigent guests he had daily a large number of poor folk to meals near his own palace, and in Lent and Advent all who presented themselves; and these he often served in person. He kept lists of needy people, especially les pauvres honteux, whom he regularly relieved in every province of his dominions. Though not personally a legislator he had a passion for justice, and he transformed the feudal “king’s court” into a highly organized royal court of justice and, as has been shown, sovereign princes submitted their difficulties to his ruling; in all causes he endeavoured to substitute proof by witnesses and decision by judicial process or arbitration for appeal to arms.

Having one day stood godfather to a Jew who was baptized at Saint Denis, St Louis said to the ambassador of the Emir of Tunis, that to see his master receive that sacrament he would with joy pass the rest of his life in chains under the Saracens. Accordingly people were not surprised when in 1267 he announced another crusade: nor were they pleased. Among less worthy reasons, they feared to lose so good a king, who if only fifty-two years old was weak with toil, ill-health, and austerities. Joinville said bluntly that “those who recommended this voyage to the king sinned grievously.” To prepare himself for the crusade Louis made two retreats at Maubuisson, and towards the expense the Pope granted him the tenth penny of all ecclesiastical revenues, and he levied a capitation upon his subjects. He nominated to the regency of the kingdom during his absence Matthew, Abbot of St Denis, and Simon of Clermont, persons of known probity and prudence, for the King’s three eldest sons, Philip, John, and Peter, took the cross to accompany him. Joinville excused himself, urging the necessity of his staying at home to protect his vassals from the oppression of the Count of Champagne. The King embarked with his army at Aigues-Mortes on July 1, 1270, and when the fleet was over against Cagliari in Sardinia it was resolved to proceed to Tunis, where Louis had been deceived into thinking that the Emir would be converted and join him. He soon found out his mistake after landing at Carthage, and encamped there to await the arrival of the forces of his brother, the King of Sicily, before attacking Tunis. Dysentery and other sickness broke out among the crusaders, and St Louis’s second son, John Tristan of Nevers, who had been born at Damietta, died. On the very same day the King himself and his eldest son Philip both sickened and it was soon seen that Louis was dying. He gave his last instructions to his sons and to his daughter, the Queen of Navarre, settled his other affairs, and composed himself for death. He prayed with many tears that God would enlighten and show mercy to infidels and sinners, and that his army might be led back into its own country without falling into the hands of the enemy and that none of them might be tempted through weakness to deny Christ. On August 24, which was Sunday, he received the last sacraments, and called for the Greek ambassadors, whom he strongly urged to union with the Roman Church. He lost his speech the next day from nine till twelve o’clock; then, recovering it and lifting up his eyes towards Heaven, he repeated aloud the words of the psalmist,” Lord, I will enter into Thine house; I will adore in Thy holy temple, and will give glory to Thy name.” He spoke again at three in the afternoon, “Into Thy hands I commend my soul,” and immediately after breathed his last. His bones and heart were taken back to France and enshrined in the abbey-church of St Denis, whence they were scattered in the Revolution; he was canonized by Pope Boniface VIII in 1297.

The heroic virtue of St Louis shone brighter in his afflictions than it could have done amidst the greatest triumphs. He longed to see the faith of Christ and His love reign throughout the whole world, especially in that country which He had sanctified by His bodily presence on earth; but God was pleased that he should rather glorify Him by his sufferings. Louis found his comfort in the accomplishment of His holy will: and seeing his good designs defeated, his army destroyed, and himself in the hands of infidels, he declared that he found more joy in his chains than he could have done in the conquest of the world. Nothing can show more clearly the principles upon which St Louis conducted his life, both as a man and as a king, than the written instructions which he left for his son Philip.

ST LOUIS IX, PRAY FOR US

Saint Louise De Marillac

INDEX

CO-FOUNDRESS OF THE DAUGHTERS OF CHARITY AND PATRONESS OF ALL CHRISTIAN SOCIAL WORKERS

BY SISTER TERESA ROWE

Daughter of Charity

Co-Foundress with Saint Vincent de Paul of the Daughters of Charity, 1591–1660.

Although Saint Louise de Marillac was canonized in 1934, there are but few people in Australia who know anything about her.

This short work will be an attempt to condense a life which, for the frail and delicate woman she was, abounded amazingly in good works.

Pope Pius XII compared her work in the world with that of St. Teresa in the cloister.

Pope Pius XI stressed the miracle of her life, the miracle of her works, and the miracle of her posterity; while Pope St. Pius X, when proclaiming the heroicity of her virtues, announced; ―We have found the valiant woman of France.‖

In the eyes of the world she was simply a young widow with wretched health and a troublesome boy; yet, under the guidance of Saint Vincent de Paul, she inaugurated a thing hitherto unheard of in the Church of God—the doing of works of charity in the world, by women, who, though not Religious, aimed at the full perfection of the Religious life.

BORN IN PARIS

When the fortunes of France were at their lowest ebb, and the horrors of Civil War made life unbearable for rich and poor alike, Louise de Marillac was born in Paris, on 12 August 1591.

Monsieur de Marillac worshipped his tiny daughter and tried to be both father and mother to her; but, when she was only four, he married again and little Louise soon found that her stepmother, a widow with three children of her own, had no room in her heart for the motherless babe.

Reluctantly Monsieur de Marillac sent his little daughter to a high-class Dominican boarding school at Poissy, where she was loved and understood and where she received an education rarely given to girls at that time. Besides literature and painting she studied Latin and philosophy and read the Holy Scriptures.

Louise was happy at Poissy. She loved the peace and quiet of Convent life. She loved the nuns who mothered her; and so she was loath to leave, when, at the age of twelve, her father withdrew her and placed her in a less expensive school in Paris.

Even then there was to be no home life for her.

In her new school she learned domestic science and housecraft. As her father wished her to keep up her Latin, painting and philosophy, she saw much more of him, for he superintended these extras.

Still it was not home and, although she found the simple life she now led more congenial, she often felt very lonely and unwanted.

Fortunately she loved God too much to doubt His Goodness. Her loneliness drew her closer to Him and she developed a tender devotion to the Passion of Our Lord.

When her father died, two years later, her sensitive heart was crushed. He was all she had and she had lost him. Her stepmother ignored her. And, although in his will Louis de Marillac wrote: ―My daughter Louise has been my greatest consolation in life; she was given to me by God to comfort my soul in my many afflictions,‖ he merely settled a life- income on her and named his brother, Michel, her guardian. The de Marillac family estates were inherited by her little half-sister, Innocente.

LONGED FOR CONVENT

For Louise, at sixteen years of age, the world held little or no attraction. Her guardian, Uncle Michel, with whom she lived after leaving school, was a most unworldly man, and his example and guidance influenced her considerably, seconding her already ardent piety and her craving for a life of penance and discipline. She soon grew to love him for his goodness and his charity to the poor and he became her first spiritual guide. She longed to enter the Convent of Capuchin nuns and made a vow to do so when she would be of age; but her delicate health made this impossible. She was heartbroken when her Confessor released her from her promise, but he consoled her by saying: ―God has other designs on you.‖

Uncle Michel sympathized with Louise and wisely counselled her to think of something else. To get married was the only other thing a girl of the seventeenth century could do and Louise felt no attraction for it. Meantime she busied herself with the poor of her district, and with her favourite hobbies, painting and reading. She noticed that her cousins and friends, one by one, selected for themselves either the cloister or marriage. If they chose the cloister, then its doors closed behind them, because there were no uncloistered active orders in those days. Many married ladies of her acquaintance were living in the world without being of it; so, finally she took her uncle’s advice and married Antoine le Gras, the Queen’s secretary, on 5 February 1613. She was then twenty-two.

In the designs of Providence she was destined to be a model for Catholic wives and mothers.

Her husband’s position entitled them to share in the festivities of the Court, but, though Louise acquitted herself of her duty and appeared at Court when custom required it, her heart was not in it.

At home with her husband she was very happy. Antoine was about ten years older than Louise, completely devoted to her and sympathetic with regard to her work among the poor. Mademoiselle le Gras, as Louis was now called, always recalled the anniversary of her wedding with gratitude.

Towards the end of the year, Michel Junior, was born. Louise’s cup of happiness was full. All the pent-up love of her motherly heart was showered on this mite. What she had missed in her own infancy she was determined to give him- full measure and flowing over- even at the risk of spoiling him. Years later St. Vincent de Paul gently scolded her for this: ―I never knew a mother who was so much a mother as you. Stop worrying about your boy. God loves him better than you do, Hewill take care of him.‖

Even then divine Providence intervened to save young Michel, by causing him to share his mother’s love with others. In 1617 Louise’s widowed aunt Valence died. She had been little Michel’s godmother. On her death-bed she begged Louise to mother her seven children. Louise’s small family suddenly became a large household; but so well did she manage it that the poor were by no means neglected and her servants often gossiped in the kitchen about the marvellous way she served them. How self-sacrificing she was, regardless of fatigue, inconvenience and even dirt!

“BY THE WAY OF THE CROSS”

Sorrow pressed hard upon joy in Louise’s life. ―God made known to me from my earliest years that it was His Will that I should go to Him by the way ofthe Cross,‖ was her own summary of her life.

Loneliness in childhood, the grief of her father’s death, and her disappointment in her vocation were followed by a few happy years of married life.

Then came one of her greatest sufferings—a gnawing doubt which undermined her health and happiness. Had she done wrong in getting married? Had she failed God? Ought she to leave her husband and try again to fulfil her vow of entering a Convent? Her uncle tried to allay her scruples, then introduced her to St. Francis de Sales, who gave her some consolation. However, in twelve months he was dead, but not without having asked his friend, Monsignor Camus, Bishop of Belley, who was Louise’s cousin, to take over the direction of her soul. He had known her for years and understood her needs. He taught her to turn aside from thinking of her faults and fix her mind on Jesus Christ. He encouraged her work among the poor, as it made her forget herself, and he allowed her to make a vow not to re-marry if her husband died before her. After that she had peace for three weeks. It was only a truce. Her temptations returned with new force and she was inclined to doubt even the immortality of her soul. She prayed in her anguish to St. Francis de Sales, confident that he would help her, and he did. On Pentecost Sunday, 4 June, she was at Mass, utterly miserable, when suddenly her mind was enlightened and all her doubts disappeared. She was made to understand that a time would come when she would take vows of Poverty, Chastity and Obedience. She saw herself in a place with others attending to the poor: but she could not understand how this could be a Convent because there was so much coming and going.

Then came another cross. Antoine le Gras’s health had failed. He was attacked with an incurable disease. Louise hid her spiritual trials from her husband and nursed him devotedly for more than two years. Resigned and conscious to the end, he died on 21 December 1625.

Immediately the ―dark night of the soul‖ descended upon poor Louise. Was her husband’s death a punishment for her infidelity in the matter of her vow? Was God angry with her? Bishop Camus was away from Paris. She was desolate!

Another cross that weighed upon Louise constantly was her son, Michel. He was spoilt and she knew that she was responsible. He was now thirteen and getting nowhere with his studies because of his laziness and utter lack of ambition.

NEW SPIRITUAL DIRECTOR

Fortunately there was someone at hand to guide, enlighten and console her. Monsignor Camus, perhaps it was, who arranged for Vincent de Paul, a humble priest in Paris, to direct her. He established the Congregation of the Mission in 1625 and Louise had heard a lot about him. She had probably met him while visiting her poor, and she was interested in him, but she felt some repugnance in accepting him as director. Nevertheless she acquiesced and never regretted it.

After unburdening her soul to Monsieur Vincent, she begged him to enlighten her as to her future. What did God want her to do next? He invited her to join other pious widows in making, mending and painting vestments for the parish church- to continue her work among the poor and, so as to be freer for this, to send her son away to a boarding school.

She drew up for herself a rule of life-a strict Order of the Day and submitted it to her Director.

To rise at five o’clock, to hear Mass daily and to receive Holy Communion as often as permitted, to make mental prayer morning and evening, say the Office of Our Lady and the Rosary, make a visit to the Blessed Sacrament, and have set times for reading sacred Scripture, examinations of conscience, meals and recreation and labour.

He had to modify her tendency to excessive mortification and suggested that, instead of austerities for which her frail constitution was unfit, she could restrain her too great tenderness for her son. ―In nothing else are you so eminent- ly feminine,‖ he told her.

Louise made two retreats of eight days each in the year. St. Vincent bade her pray for guidance for both of them, and for four years kept her waiting in this new and strange novitiate until God manifested His Will in her regard.

SERVICE OF POOR

Honouring the hidden life of the Son of God during these years, Louise occupied herself making clothes for the poor. She helped ecclesiastical students from abroad who needed clothing, books, Mass outfits or travelling expenses, and she trained young girls sent toher occasionally by St. Vincent. Remembering Our Lord’s words: ―Whatsoever you do to the least of Mine, that you do unto Me,‖ she looked upon the poor as her lords and masters and served them as she would serve the Lord of Charity Himself. Our Lady was her model in all things. Carefully she prepared for and celebrated her feasts; especially the Immaculate Conception and the Assumption.

St. Vincent visited her or wrote when missions kept him out of Paris, and all the while prayed that God would solve the mystery of her vocation. When he was absent for any length of time she worried and wrote to Monsignor Camus, who made light of her distress and reminded her mischievously that Monsieur Vincent could not be expected to abandon his other duties for her sake. And his duties were legion.

When he was parish priest of Chatillon in 1617, he had erected the first Confraternity of Charity. So successful was the venture that in a short time the organization was recognized by Church and State; and in 1629 there were about 130 branches in country districts and small towns. There were set rules for the members, who dedicated themselves to the service of the needy and took turns in attending to the sick. To keep them up to the mark, St. Vincent or one of his priests visited them from time to time and sometimes found that certain members had fallen away from their first fervour. St. Vincent realized that for the women members a lady organizer with a spiritual outlook was needed. Who could fill this role? Who indeed but Louise de Marillac with her common sense, tact and easy flow of language

SOCIAL SERVICE WORK

Having explained the organization to her and supplied her with letters of introduction, he sent her off in high spirits, little dreaming that the SOCIAL SERVICE WORK begun that day would one day spread over the entire world.

Travelling by open stage-coach, she visited the churches at each stopping-place, to confide to the Lord of Charity, as she loved to call Him, the work she had come to do for Him. Then she looked for lodgings and took whatever was offered.

She held meetings of the Confraternities, examined their organizations, visited the sick in each town or village according to instructions, and then returned to St. Vincent with her report. For the next four years we find her setting off in summer and autumn, sometimes penetrating far into the country. She was appalled by the wretched condition of the peasants, and more so by their utter ignorance of God. What mattered it, if, to reach them, she travelled in springless carts, on horseback, or struggled many miles on foot? They were suffering members of the Mystical Body of our crucified Lord, and she loved them. From time to time her health gave way and she had to rest, but as soon as she was allowed up she was off again.

To the members of the Charities in each town and village she gave simple instructions on their duties and responsibilities, taught them home nursing, and what precautions to take against contagion. Her simple eloquence attracted the men who sometimes concealed themselves in the meeting room to listen to her.

APPRECIATED AND WELCOMED

She compiled a little Catechism and gathered the children around her wherever she went. To find good school mistresses was a great anxiety. She endeavoured to leave one in every town, and here her lady friends helped her considerably. Besides visiting and encouraging the Confraternities already functioning, Louise erected many more. In some places she met with opposition, but generally she was appreciated and welcomed.

At Beauvais, in 1633, her visit ended in a public manifestation of gratitude. The Bishop, priests and people gathered to see her off. When she was leaving, a small boy fell under the wheels of the clumsy vehicle in which she was travelling and was thought to be dead. Louise sprang out of the carriage and, kneeling beside the seemingly lifeless little body, prayed so fervently that, to everyone’s astonishment, he arose perfectly uninjured.

Before five years were up the Court and every parish of importance had its Confraternity of Charity. Abuses crept in sometimes. A few of the Ladies got their maids to prepare the food and then sent them to the poor sick instead of serving them personally.

St. Vincent strongly disapproved: ―They hadn’t the touch -these paid servants.‖

Then came an epidemic of plague. Many Ladies were forbidden, by their husbands or by their parents, to run the risk of contagion. In fact, those who could fled from Paris, while Louise calmly continued her charitable works and visited even the plague-striken.

To fill the gaps left by the frightened Ladies, Vincent and Louise decided to invite some of the good country girls they had met in the villages, who, without wishing to be nuns, would willingly give themselves to God to serve Him in the poor. More than a dozen came eagerly. Louise gave them a hurried course of instructions, placed them in hired rooms under the care of the Lady President of each parish Confraternity and hoped for the best. She got it!

Although some proved unsuitable and were sent home, others were excellent and soon St. Vincent was in admiration at their devotedness.

To give just one example: Marguerite Nasseau, who had taught herself to read while minding her sheep and then braved the ridicule of her elders by teaching other girls; who had skimped her own meagre fare to save money enough to help penniless young students to follow their vocation. She came to St. Vincent and offered her services to nurse the sick. ―Everyone loved her because there was nothing in her that was not lovable,‖ he said. After serving satisfactorily in three different parishes, she caught the plague from a poor woman whom she brought to her little room and put into her own bed. Then she walked to the hospital, where Louise found her, dying-the first DAUGHTER OF CHARITY.

BIRTH OF COMMUNITY

Scattered as they were in different parishes of Paris, with very little experience, and left to their own resources except for orders received from the Lady of Charity placed over each, these young peasant girls could never persevere if something were not done to stabilize the venture. Louise de Marillac was quick to realize this and offered to receive a certain number into her house and to educate and train them for the service of the poor.

St. Vincent, too, judged it necessary to unite these girls in a Community under the guidance of a superior-and here was one at hand of consummate prudence, exemplary piety and of an ardent and indefatigable zeal.

The Community of the Daughters of Charity dates its birth from 29 November 1633 when St. Louise welcomed the first four, whose names, unfortunately are unknown to us.

To suit them, she changed somewhat her Order of the Day. There was to be no Office, but half an hour’s mental prayer morning and evening, examinations of conscience, periods of recollection and acts of the Presence of God, vocal prayers in common, daily Mass in the parish church, frequent Holy Communion, and the Rosary said privately.

She joined them at meals, recreation and housework; she instructed them in all phases of their life and took them with her to visit the homes of the sick.

St. Vincent watched and approved. He was most devoted to the interests of the ―Little Company‖, and came at least once a fortnight to give them encouragement and instruction. After the second of these Conferences notes were taken, at first by St. Louise’ herself and later by one or other of the Sisters capable of doing so.

With St. Vincent’s permission, Louise made a vow on 25 March 1634 to consecrate herself to the service of the poor, at the same time renewing her vow of Chastity. By this time there were twelve girls under instruction.

TRUE VOCATION

From the start St. Vincent insisted, in his humility, that God alone could be truly called the Founder of the Community. He never thought of it, neither did Mademoiselle. She, in her turn, realized that she had at last found her true vocation-a religious life, hitherto quite unforeseen, living in Community, yet working in the midst of the world, with much ―coming and going‖ in succouring the poor, the ignorant and the afflicted.

For fear of the Sisters being considered nuns, which would mean enclosure and no more service of the poor in their own homes, all terminology associated with the cloister was avoided. Instead of Convent it was to be HOUSE; instead of Reverend Mother, SISTER SERVANT. The Novitiate was to be the SEMINARY; and the Mistress of’ Novices, SISTER DIRECTRESS.

The little Sisters were not to wear a veil like nuns; the simple grey costume and white head-dress of the peasant women of the time suited nicely and was made uniform.

Until his death in 1660, St. Vincent continued the Conferences. If he happened to be out of Paris, his faithful friend and first disciple, Father Portail, supplied for him, but this was rare.

As for Louise, she was there always, by her example giving herself to the formation of these young Sisters, whom she dearly loved, with a spiritual energy that was almost miraculous.

TEACHING AND SERVICE

When she was satisfied, after some months, that they understood all that such a vocation required, two or three were sent to live in the town, near the little schoolroom where they taught peasant children and shepherdesses. Often they had only a hired room for lodging and, after hearing Mass in the parish church, they sallied forth to school or to serve the poor in their homes. After school there were household chores-sewing, mending, washing and chopping firewood. Some made preserves for thepoor, others attended to the doctor’s orders for the next day’s round of visits. Those who were illiterate were given extra time to learn how to read. Louise insisted on daily study, saying: ―You must prepare yourselves in every way to become better Servants of the Poor. We are all they have and nothing is too good for our lords and masters.‖

Their religious formation went on constantly. Every fortnight they gathered either in Louise’s house or in St. Lazare, for Monsieur Vincent’s Conferences, and their numbers steadily increased.

Louise de Marillac, with other Ladies of Charity, visited the Hotel-Dieu, an immense hospital where there were almost 3000 patients; not that they had so many beds, for we are told there were sometimes six in a bed! It is difficult nowadays, to imagine a hospital in such dire straits as to have insufficient sheets for changing.

Soon four Sisters were regularly at work there, and the work was colossal, for so many other essentials were lacking too: besides corporal assistance, the Ladies instructed the patients and prepared them for the Sacraments. During this first year nearly 800 infidels, heretics, and even Turks, were reconciled to God. Louise was so devoted to this work that St. Vincent had to restrain her zeal.

By 1636 it was necessary to move to a larger house, which was found in La Chapelle, a northern suburb of Paris. This became the Mother House. A few visiting Sisters were left to carry on their work in the city house.

Hardly were they installed in their country house, enjoying the pure fresh air, than war threatened. They were on the direct route of the invading and defending armies. Thousands of refugees poured into the village. Louise found herself and her Sisters in a dangerous position, but she held her ground, trusting in the protection of God, and took in a number of girls who were among the refugees. To help them materially and to protect them were not sufficient for her zeal; she arranged for one of the Missionaries to give them a retreat before they left.

PLIGHT OF FOUNDLINGS

The foundlings next attracted her attention. She heard of poor unfortunate abandoned babies deserted in the streets of Paris-300 or 400 a year, and her motherly heart went out to them. She went to see ―La Couche‖, a house to which these waifs were taken. It was kept by a woman with two servants who treated the children so badly that most of them died unbaptized. The survivors were sold to any beggar for a few pence, who maimed them to excite compassion . . . Louise was heartbroken and immediately begged St. Vincent to let her take as many as she could accommodate. The Sisters of La Chapelle received them gladly, and we hear of a sister sitting up all night with a baby in each arm because all the cots were full.

Their numbers increased so rapidly during the war that a foundling hospital was opened and run by the Sisters in Paris for some, while others were boarded out with foster-mothers.

Providing for these little ones was, for years, one of St. Louise’s greatest difficulties. As they grew up she also had to educate them. To meet the growing demand for teachers, she sent some of the Sisters to the Ursuline Nuns, who initiated them into their method of teaching.

The Ladies of Charity were of great assistance to St. Louise. In fact, she could not have done without them a fraction of what she did.

DEATH OF MADAME GOUSSAULT

Her charitable enterprises required enormous sums of money. This was contributed almost entirely by the good Ladies, who also devoted themselves whole-heartedly to her works. Foundations were made on their country estates and financed by them. Madame Goussault was a wonderful example to the others, always ready to help either in visiting the Hotel-Dieu and the prisons or in the care of the foundlings. Her premature death in 1639 was a sore trial to Louise, who had relied so much on her. It was some consolation to know that to St. Vincent she said, the day before she died: ―All night I have seen the Daughters of Charity before the Throne of God. Ah, how greatly they will be multiplied; what good they will do and what happiness will be theirs.‖

Some of the Ladies expressed a wish to make spiritual retreat under Louise’s direction. At St Vincent’s suggestion she readily complied, all the more so as this gave her an opportunity to make them some return.

St. Louise never neglected what she deemed her first duty, the training of the Sisters who now formed a numerous Community. They were taught to have ―no cell but a hired room, no cloister but the streets of the city or the wards of a hospital, no enclosure but obedience, no grating but the fear of God, and no veilbut holy modesty.‖ But at the same time they were to equal cloistered religious in all the virtues of the religious life, adding thereto a great love for and absolute devotedness to the poor. The secret of her success in training her young girls was that she gave them daily heroic example of every precept she explained.‖

NURSING THE PLAGUE-STRICKEN

Madame Goussault’s dying wish was to see the Sisters take over and run the Hospital of Angers, her native town, for which she left a large sum of money. This was the first long-distance foundation. Seventy-five miles from Paris was a considerable journey in those days, partly by coach and partly by canalboat. Louise picked her Sisters carefully and decided to accompany them. She also made an effort to discard her widow’s weeds and adopt the head-dress worn by her companions, but she caught cold and had to revert to her black veil. It was a disappointment to her and she humbly thought that she was unworthy of it. The journey to Angers took fourteen days and, when they arrived, Louise was seriously ill. Nevertheless she attended to all the business of the Foundation and established the Association of the Ladies of Charity. The plague was raging, but the Sisters fearlessly nursed the plague-stricken and God preserved them from contagion.

Six years later the administrators of another large hospital asked for Sisters to assume charge. This was in Nantes, farther off than Angers. Again Louise installed her Sisters personally. Before long, difficulties crowded in from all sides, and several times the Sisters’ Council in Paris was on the point of withdrawing them. Eventually their patience and charity won, though it took several years.

RULES ARE WRITTEN

In 1642 there were nearly one hundred members in the little Company. Some of the Sisters begged St. Vincent to allow them to make vows. After much deliberation he consented that they make vows of Poverty, Chastity, Obedience and the Service of the Poor, which would became, and remain, annual, although each one’s intention must be to renew them every year until death.

Those so privileged pronounced their first Holy Vows on the Feast of the Annunciation, 25 March, and Louise renewed hers at the same time.

She kept reminding St. Vincent that so far the Sisters had no written rule. Her Order of the Day and little regulations, but above all her example had sufficed. Being overwhelmed with problems of his own at the time, he put her off; but early in 1645 he was frightened into action when Louise collapsed and her life was despaired of. Eventually she recovered and then he became dangerously ill, even unconscious for several days. As soon as he was able, he asked Louise to draw up Rules for the future guidance of the Community. This she did with such wisdom and foresight that he had very few alterations to make, and these Rules have stood the test of time and are still faithfully observed by thousands of Daughters of Charity in all parts of the world. In the Conferences that followed St. Vincent explained these Rules minutely and loved to repeat: ―Keep your Rules and your Rules will keep you.‖

It was now five years since Louise had transferred her Seminary and Secretariat to a larger house near the parish church of St. Laurent. St. Vincent was nearer. The Ladies of Charity held their meetings there, and Retreats for the Sisters and for the Laity were there conducted. Louise was the life and soul of the house. In spite of her continual infirmities, and sometimes overpowering anxieties, she was constantly cheerful, and would laugh heartily at recreation with the Sisters. When death snatched one of them from her, she wept bitterly, so much did she love them.

Louise’s humility was her outstanding virtue. She did the meanest work of the house and never allowed anything new to be bought for her. Secondhand clothing she considered quite good enough.

Her spirit of obedience made her seek advice from St. Vincent on every point and obey him implicitly.

The secrets of her interior life are revealed in her instructions given so regularly to the Daughters. These were taken down by her secretary verbatim, and we have them today as inspiring as the day she spoke. Full of common sense and forthrightness, one feels that she has had personal experience of the crosses and snares for which she sought to prepare them.

Her devotion to the Sacred Heart was remarkable. She lived before St. Margaret Mary, who was born in 1647; yet a large picture painted by her represents the Lord of Charity standing in the attitude we are now so accustomed to see on pictures of the apparition to St. Margaret, which occurred many years later. Her second characteristic devotion was to the Immaculate Conception; in which she firmly believed long before it was declared an article of faith. To her Guardian Angel she was most devout; and always saluted the angels of the inhabitants of the towns and villages she passed through on her journeys; and she recommended the Sisters to pray to the good angels of those whom they strove to instruct or convert. Her devotion to the Sacred Passion and to the Blessed Sacrament sustained her all through life amid innumerable trials; sorrows and sufferings of body and soul. These devotions are now incorporated into the spiritual exercises of the Daughters of Charity.

GOD’S WATCHFUL CARE

Louise had great confidence in Divine Providence. She told the Sisters that if they were not already called Daughters of Charity, they might well be called Daughters of Providence-so often had the good God shown His watchful care of them.

In 1644 she narrowly escaped death from a falling ceiling in the Community room, when a joist broke, immediately after she had left it.

On another occasion a Sister was climbing the stairs of a tenement house with food for a sick woman, when the house collapsed, killing thirty-six people; the corner of the landing on which she stood was the only part left intact. After carefully lowering her soup-pot at the end of a rope, she jumped from the window into blankets held out to catch her and then went on her way to the poor with her basket still on her arm!

When St. Vincent pleaded the cause of his beloved galley slaves, Louise sent Sisters to nurse them, with detailed instructions, warning them of the risks they ran, on account of the evil character of these poor men. ―Be like the sun whose rays fall on the dungheap without suffering any ill effects from it.‖

A large dilapidated castle, ―Bicetre‖, was placed at her disposal by the Ladies of Charity in 1647. The foundlings were housed there and a wine-press and bakery were started, but civil war broke out. As in 1636, the Sisters and children were in danger and, two years later, all had to return to Paris.

These foundlings caused Louise more worry than enough. The number of children to be fed, housed and clothed was out of all proportion to the funds collected for them.

Between 1638 and 1643, 1200 infants had been cared for and they kept coming at an average of one a day. The Sisters at the Foundling Hospital reduced their own fare to one meal a day. So much else was there to worry about that the Ladies’ enthusiasm for them flagged and Louise tearfully told St. Vincent that she feared they would have to give up the care of these little ones.

St. Vincent called a meeting and made his famous appeal: ― . . . Ladies, if you continue to support these little ones, they will live. If you abandon them, they will die. Pronounce sentence. Their life and death are in your hands. What is your verdict?‖

Of course, the Ladies promised to continue, and even sold their jewellery to raise funds; but with the outbreak of war many of the ladies fled to the country, and the fortunes of the few remaining were so reduced that they wer e unable to redeem their promises. Louise was left alone to shoulder the burden of hundreds of little hungry children. Debts mounted. Credit was refused. The little ones were dying of hunger and poor Louise felt personally responsible for their deaths. To make matters worse, St. Vincent was away for five or six months, but he answered her sad little letters, reminding her of the confidence she owed God. The work was His. He would see it through. And so He did, through His worthy instrument, St. Vincent, who, on his return, managed to procure food, paid all debts, and averted the dreaded disaster within a few months.

NURSING WAR-WOUNDED

There came a sip of happiness to Louise in 1650. Her wayward son, now thirty-seven years of age, who found it so hard to settle down anywhere or at any job, met and married Gabrielle le Clerc, an excellent young lady, under whose influence he became steady and reliable. They had one daughter, Louise, who was a great joy to her grandmother.

Three days after his marriage France was again plunged into a senseless war of tragic suffering. Country districts were laid waste by the marching and counter-marching of troops. The horrors perpetrated by bandits admitted into the Queen’s army were unimaginable.

Louise was deluged with appeals for help; Sisters were wanted everywhere. Famine was widespread. Sorrowfully she saw four Sisters depart for the battlefield at the Queen’s request, to nurse the wounded. Three of them died. Soon there was ―fighting in the very capital. Soldiers lay dead at the door of the Mother House, while the Sisters inside fasted and prayed for peace. Prayer succeeded where all political efforts failed. The Archbishop appealed for prayer and penance, and peace came with the return of the young King Louis XIV at the end of 1652.

At the same time Poland was at war with Sweden. The Queen of Poland, who had been a Lady of Charity in Paris, asked for Sisters to nurse the wounded soldiers in her adopted country. Three were sent in 1652 and more in 1657. Two died of plague and Louise was asked for reinforcements. In all, she sent twenty Sisters to Poland, envying them their opportunities for sacrifice.

As a result of the war, and long before it was over, begging in the streets of Paris became a menace. There were about 100,000 professional beggars. Many edicts had been issued against them, and the weapon of force had been resorted to, but all in vain.

In 1656 King Louis XIV erected a general hospital, which before long housed 6000 mendicants, all learning a trade. Street begging was again forbidden by law. It was remarkable how many maimed and blind beggars were cured overnight and either came willingly to learn a trade or disappeared into the country. A Paris merchant donated 100,000 livres for work which was to be administered by St. Vincent, St. Louise and the Daughters.

CARE OF LUNATICS

The following year, 1653, the Holy Name of Jesus Hospice was founded for the sick and aged of the capital. Two years later this valiant woman, now worn out with age and infirmities, welcomed yet another major appointment, the care of lunatics in an asylum which had been rather badly managed. St. Vincent inspired the Sisters with such an exalted idea of the grace God bestowed on them by giving them this charitable work that they all longed to devote themselves to it in spite of its special difficulties.

In 1658 the River Seine overflowed its banks -Paris was inundated. Louise harboured 800 refugees in the Mother House and fed 1500 poor at the door each day. St. Vincent organized a huge emporium of food, clothing and furniture, and medical supplies, while several Sisters helped the priests and brothers who were sent to relieve distress, in the country districts.

And so, these last years of Louis’s life were no less fruit ful in good works than the preceding ones, and like them, bore the stamp of the Cross. Trials of all kinds came her may-ill health, disappointments, losses, but with them all came ever-increasing sanctity. Her will was anchored to the Will of God and, consequently, she enjoyed that peace which Our Lord promised ―no man can take from you.‖

A fall which injured one arm permanently in 1659 aggravated her sufferings and necessitated a Sister secretary. From her sick room she sent Sisters to Calais to nurse the wounded and others attacked by plague. Two died and twenty volunteered to replace them.

PREPARES FOR END

During these last years of her life Louise had an Assistant, to whom she left most of the administration of the Mother House. No longer able to cope with it all, she spent more time in prayer and preparation for the end which she felt was drawing near. The prayers and sacrifices of their Mother certainly obtained extraordinary graces for her children.

Her last foundation was that of Narbonne in 1659, where the Archbishop asked for three teaching Sisters.

Louise was no longer able to assist at daily Mass and was suffering intensely. Twelve years before St. Vincent had written of her to Father Portail in Rome: ―I regard Mademoiselle as naturally dead for the last ten years . . . only God knows the strength of her soul.‖

January and February were anxious months for her Daughters. Their Mother lay between life and death. On 4 February the Last Sacraments were administered; but she rallied sufficiently to put all her affairs in order. On the 14th news of the death of Father Portail saddened her. He had been the Sisters’ Spiritual Director for eighteen years.

Early in March her fever returned and gangrene declared itself in her injured shoulder. She was in danger and on the 12th she again received the Last Sacraments. Three days of increasing pain followed, but her patience was uncompromising. ―It is just,‖ she whispered, ―that where sin has abounded, suffering should also abound.‖

St. Vincent, now over eighty, was practically an invalid. His ulcerated leg made it impossible for him to walk any distance. He was quite unable to assist her. She asked for a few written words of encouragement, but, knowing her detachment, he sent an oral message instead: ―You are going before me, Mademoiselle, but I hope to see you soon in heaven.‖

At eleven o’clock on the 15th, feeling that her last hour had come, she spoke her dying words to the sobbing Sisters who surrounded her bed: ―Take great care of the poor , . . . live together in great union and cordiality . . . pray much to the Blessed Virgin, she is your only Mother.‖

At noon her beautiful soul passed peacefully to God.

It was Monday of Passion Week, 15 March 1660.

She left 350 Daughters of Charity in seventy foundations in France and Poland.

ST. VINCENT’S WORDS

A few weeks after her death St. Vincent, somewhat improved in health, held a Conference with her Daughters. After listening to them tell of her virtues and her tender devotion to the poor, he said: ―Address yourselves with confidence to your Mother in heaven. She can help you more now and she will, providedyou are faithful to God.‖

Fourteen years before, when sending her a draft copy of the memorandum of the establishment of the Daughters, which he intended to send to the Archbishop of Paris, he wrote: ―I have omitted many things I might have said about yourself. Let us leave it to Our Lord to say it to the whole world one day, and let us hide ourselves in the meantime.‖

Surely that day has come and Our Lord is calling the attention of the whole world to St. LOUISE DE MARILLAC in this twentieth century.

Her Cause was not introduced until 1895.

In 1911 Pope St. Pius X declared her Venerable.

In 1920 Pope Benedict XV beatified her.

In 1934 Pope Pius XI canonized her.

In 1954 her statue was erected in St. Peter’s Basilica, Rome. And now, 14 March 1960, Pope John XXIII declared her to be the PATRONESS OF ALL CHRISTIAN SOCIAL WORKERS

Did she not inaugurate, more than 300 years ago, just those works which now claim the time and zeal of our modern Social Workers?

―Mothers, Fathers, Catholic Youth, Religious and lay Teachers and Nurses, and members of every branch of Social Work, St. Louise de Marillac is your MODEL. Look to her for inspiration. Put your efforts under her guidance and protection, and pray that your work may resemble hers, especially in this—that in all she did for the needy and oppressed she sought only the GLORY OF GOD and the SALVATION OF SOULS.‖

THE DAUGHTERS OF CHARITY IN AUSTRALIA

The Vice-Province of the Daughters of Charity in Australia forms a branch of the British Province, which was founded from the Mother House, Paris, in 1855.

From the Central House, Mill Hill, London, came the pioneers of the Australian Branch in 1926.

Others came in after years-in all, the British Province sent thirty Sisters to the Vice-Province.

The first four Australians who applied for admission to the Community of St. Vincent de Paul and St. Louise de Marillac, were obliged to go overseas for their training; but, in 1937 a temporary Seminary was opened in Mayfield, which was transferred in 1939 to the newly-built Central House in Eastwood.

Since then, approximately one hundred Australians have completed their twelve months’ training here, after six months’ postulatum, and have been sent out to one or other of the eighteen houses.

Nihil Obstat:

Bernard O’Connor Diocesan Censor

Imprimatur:

@ Daniel Mannix

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis 8th September 1960

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Saint Lucy of Syracuse

PATRONESS OF THE BLIND AND OF EYE PROBLEMS

INDEX

PRAYER TO SAINT LUCY OF SYRACUSE

Saint Lucy, thy beautiful name signifies light. By the light of faith which God bestowed upon thee, increase and preserve this light in my soul so that I may avoid evil, be zealous in the performance of good works, and abhor nothing so much as the blindness and the darkness of evil and of sin.

By thine intercession with God, obtain for me perfect vision for my bodily eyes and the grace to use them for God’s greater honour and glory and the salvation of all men.

Saint Lucy, virgin and martyr, hear my prayers and obtain my petitions. Amen.

ST LUCY, VIRGIN, MARTYR-A.D. 304

FEAST: DECEMBER 13

[Abridged from her Acts, older than St. Aldehelm, who quoted them in the seventh century,]

The glorious virgin and martyr St. Lucy, one of the brightest ornaments of the church of Sicily, was born of honourable and wealthy parents in the city of Syracusa, and educated from her cradle in the faith of Christ. She lost her father in her infancy, but Eutychia, her mother, took singular care to furnish her with tender and sublime sentiments of piety and religion. By the earl y impressions which Lucy received and the strong influence of divine grace, Lucy discovered no disposition but toward virtue, and she was yet very young when she offered to God the flower of her virginity. This vow, however, she kept a secret, and her mother, who was a stranger to it, pressed her to marry a young gentleman who was a pagan. The saint sought occasions to hinder this design from taking effect, and her mother was visited with a long and troublesome flux of blood, under which she laboured four years without finding any remedy by recourse to physicians. At length she was persuaded by her daughter to go to Catana and offer up her prayers to God for relief at the tomb of St. Agatha. St. Lucy accompanied her thither, and their prayers were successful.

Hereupon our saint disclosed to her mother her desire of devoting herself to God in a state of perpetual virginity, and of bestowing her fortune on the poor: and Eutychia, in gratitude, left her at full liberty to pursue her pious inclinations. The young nobleman, with whom the mother had treated about marrying her, came to understand this by the sale of her jewels and goods, and the distribution of the price among the poor, and in his rage accused her before the governor Paschasius as a Christian, the persecution of Diocletian then raging with the utmost fury. The judge commanded the holy virgin to be exposed to prostitution in a brothel house; but God rendered her immovable, so that the guards were not able to carry her thither. He also made her an over-match for the cruelty of the persecutors, in overcoming fire and other torments. After a long and glorious combat she died in prison of the wounds she had received-about the year 304. She was honoured at Rome in the sixth century among the most illustrious virgins and martyrs, whose triumphs the church celebrates, as appears from the Sacramentary of St. Gregory, Bede, and others. Her festival was kept in England till the change of religion, as a holy day of the second rank, in which no work but tillage or the like was allowed. Her body remained at Syracusa for many years; but was at length translated into Italy, and thence by the authority of the Emperor Otho I to Metz, as Sigebert of Gemblours relates. It is there exposed to public veneration in a rich chapel of St. Vincent’s Church. A portion of her relics was carried to Constantinople and brought thence to Venice, where it is kept with singular veneration. St. Lucy is often painted with the balls of her eyes laid in a dish: perhaps her eyes were defaced or plucked out, though her present acts make no mention of any such circumstance. In many places her intercession is particularly implored for distempers of the eyes.

It is a matter of the greatest consequence what ideas are stamped upon the ductile minds of children, what sentiments ar e impressed on their hearts, and to what habits they are first formed. Let them be inured to little denials both in their will and senses, and learn that pleasures which gratify the senses must be guarded against, and used with great fear and moderation: for by them the taste is debauched, and the constitution of the soul broken and spoiled much more fatally than that of the body can be by means contrary to its health.

There are few Lucys nowadays among Christian ladies, because sensuality, pride, and vanity are instilled into their minds by the false maxims and pernicious example of those with whom they first converse. Alas! unless a constant watchfulness and restraint both produce and strengthen good habits, the inclinations of our souls lean of their own accord toward corruption.

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ANOTHER PRAYER TO SAINT LUCY OF SYRACUSE PATRONESS OF THE BLIND AND OF EYE PROBLEMS

Relying on Thy goodness, O God, we humbly ask Thee, through the intercession of Saint Lucy, Virgin and Martyr, to give perfect vision to our eyes, that they may serve for Thy greater honour and glory.

SAINT LUCY, HEAR OUR PRAYERS AND OBTAIN OUR PETITIONS. AMEN

Saint Margaret Clitherow

BY REV. T. A. MCGOLDRICK, M.A

INDEX

IN THE year 1574 there was living at No. 36 The Shambles, York, the young wife of a butcher. Her name was Margaret Clitherow, and in very many respects she was like hundreds of other tradesmen’s wives. True, she was of quite outstanding beauty but, that apart, there was very little about Mrs Clitherow to mark her out from her neighbours at a casual glance. She was a good mother, rather on the strict side with her children and servants, but, for all that, witty and sociable, popular with her neighbours and with the customers who came for their meat to her husband’s shop. An able business woman, she was nevertheless noted for her fair dealing both in the shop when she sold retail and with the other butchers of the town for whom her husband, John Clitherow, acted as wholesaler. She had now been married just three years and there is no indication that they had not been years full of happiness for the young wife and mother, and for her family.

Margaret fitted perfectly into the colourful life of the noisy, busy street in which she lived. Even today the Shambles retains a great deal of its old-world character. Four hundred years ago, it must have reflected in miniature the many-sided, forceful, robust life of the country as a whole. For the Elizabethan age was, in many ways, one of the most brilliant in our history: yet behind the glittering facade it presents to the student of literature, music and the arts of display-and we should never forget this-there lurked always the grim spectre of bloody religious persecution carried on with a fiendish cruelty unsurpassed in the annals of any European country. The age of Shakespeare was also the age of Richard Topcliffe, master torturer and lecherous sadist, of Walsingham, the arch-spy, and of a host of vicious almost sub-human agents whom they directed. To use an all too familiar modern parallel, we might describe the late sixteenth century as the ‘fascist’ period of English history, and indeed there is more than a superficial resemblance between the Germany of Hitler, Goebbels and Himmler and the country ruled over by Elizabeth. The brilliant sunshine of the national achievement has led many historians to neglect the darker shadows of Elizabethan policy, but the shadows were there and they were to fall across many otherwise happy English homes. One of those homes was to be that of Margaret Clitherow.

The future martyr was born about the year 1553, the daughter of a prosperous wax chandler, Thomas Middleton, who was a citizen of York and lived in the Davygate. In that year, Queen Mary Tudor was beginning her work of reuniting England to the Holy See, healing the schism first created by her father, Henry VIII. Five years only were given her for the task. The vast majority of the English people, during the years when Margaret was growing up, were Catholic in name at least; but many of them were prepared to accept a change of religion as coming with a change in the government of the country.

THE NATION SPIRITUALLY ASLEEP

Lack of proper instruction seems to have been at the root of the trouble. They just did not understand what being a Catholic involved, because their parents before them had not understood. There were, it is true, notable exceptions; in parts of Lancashire and Yorkshire, in Northumberland and in the Bishopric of Durham, and in isolated ‘pockets’ else- where, there did exist a more virile Catholic life, whilst in a few years’ time Oxford University was to supply leaders of first-rate quality. But, on the whole, even granting that there had not been any large-scale deliberate abandoning of Catholic doctrine, the English nation was spiritually asleep in that generation upon which the first challenges came.

There were some for whom religion had become a pure formality, or at best an incoherent tangle of popular but untheological and unessential devotions. There was, for example, still reverence for the Mass because it was traditional, but there was no widespread understanding of it as a Sacrifice at which the parishioners assisted. The Elevation, for instance, was given a much greater prominence than was the Consecration which preceded it. There is reason to believe, from such popular books of devotion as survive, that at Mass a position had almost been reached in which the priest carried on his devotions at one end of the church, while the more devout of his parishioners went on with theirs at the other!

Margaret’s parents, then, belonged to a generation which -it needs to be said-had on the whole derived little fruit from the example of a St Thomas More or that of the heroic Carthusians who defied Henry VIII. The diocese of Rochester, again, had a saint for its bishop: not one of his clergy so far as we know, followed Fisher! Mary Tudor, as we have said, was allowed but five years to re-establish England as a Catholic country. Small wonder that she failed.

THE ‘NEW RELIGION’

Margaret Middleton was only about five when Queen Mary died and the religious settlement of her successor Elizabeth swept away Catholicism in favour of a State Church in which Papal authority was once more repudiated and the Mass forbidden. Yet, impermanent as had been the results of Mary’s work, on the whole, the restoration of Catholicism had at least stiffened the backs of the higher clergy. Only one bishop could be found-Kitchin of Llandaff-who would acquiesce in Elizabeth’s Church settlement. There had been only one bishop who resisted Henry VIII.

Among the lower clergy who refused to accept the ‘New Religion’ was Mr Henry More, the Middletons’ parish priest. Yet, in spite of his example, the family decided to swim with the tide, and their little daughter was brought up a Protestant. But the Protestantism of those early years of Elizabeth’s reign does not seem to have been-among the ordinary folk at least-very deeply rooted. It was cheaper and easier to ‘conform’ and go to the Parish Church as the law demanded; nevertheless, Catholic doctrine and practice survived to an enormous extent. (There are evident traces of this in the plays of Shakespeare.) It was, therefore, not surprising that when Thomas Middleton died, he left money to the poor of York on condition that they prayed for the repose of his soul.

Margaret herself, however, was the only one of Thomas Middleton’s children to be reconciled to the Church.* When she married John Clitherow in 1571 she was, like her husband, a Protestant. Why Clitherow vas a Protestant is rather a puzzle. His relatives were staunch Catholics and one of his brothers became a priest. But he was a hardheaded business man and had become-if we may argue from his assessment for poor relief-one of the wealthiest men in York. He was also a social climber and a candidate for municipal honours; and in those days that meant sworn acceptance of the Queen’s Supremacy over the Church. Before he married, he was already a ‘bridgemaster,’ i.e., one of a committee of York citizens responsible for the upkeep of the bridge over the Ouse. More surprising, at first sight, is the fact that in 1572, a year after his marriage, he was one of a number of men-their modern counterpart would be ‘special constables’-sworn in to assist in hunting out Catholic suspects. Why appoint to such a post a man known to be of a Catholic family? Was it that John Clitherow angled for the appointment as a means of proving his attachment to Protestant principles?

This is extremely unlikely in view of his subsequent history. He must, for example, have suspected that his wife was having Mass said in the house, and he must have known where his eldest son had gone to receive his education. Can it be that he was a rather amiable individual with no very deep religious convictions and that, at the request of the Council of the North** to appoint somebody to do this very distasteful work, his Protestant fellow citizens elected him because he was not likely to be over-zealous in doing it? In view of the great sympathy felt later in York for Margaret, this is by no means an impossible explanation. In 1574 he reached what may well have been the summit of his social ambitions. He became a Chamberlain of York, and was thus entitled to regard himself as a gentleman!

The year 1574 was the turning point for his wife also. In this year she became a Catholic. We can only surmise the reasons which made her take this decisive step at this particular moment. It certainly was not through any course of reading because, shrewd business woman though she was, Margaret Clitherow could neither read nor write. What is more likely is that, through the members of her husband’s family, she came into contact with one of the Douai * But a son of her brother Thomas apparently became a Catholic at about the age of eighteen, and some years later a priest. Gillow (Bibliographical Dictionary of the English Catholics v, 12) identifies him with the Robert Middleton who was martyred in 1601 at Lancaster.

** The Council of the North was erected by Henry VIII after the Catholic revolt of 1536 without any Act of Parliament. In Elizabeth’s reign the Council was particularly active in hunting out opponents of the Queen’s religious policy missionaries then beginning to arrive secretly in England. This is supported by the fact that her brother-in-law, William Clitherow, went to Douai College several years later, to study for the priesthood.

THE PRIESTS FROM DOUAI

What is certain is that only two years after her conversion Margaret Clitherow was actively working with these priests from Douai. What manner of men were they? The question is relevant here, since it was work for the Faith in association with them that brought Margaret to her death.

Their story goes back to a Lancashire man, William Allen. If any man changed the history of England it was this priest! He it was who, seeing clearly that Catholicism in England was, in the first ten years of Elizabeth’s reign, slowly dying, set himself to the task of renewing its life. At the close of Mary’s reign, Allen, then 26 years of age, held the important post of Principal of St Mary’s Hall, in the University of Oxford. For two years after the Act of 1559 that restored the Royal Supremacy he managed to retain this post. But for a Catholic of William Allen’s calibre the situation had become intolerable and he resigned and went overseas to the Catholic University of Louvain. Ill health, however, forced him to return to England after a short stay.

It speaks volumes for the pitiable state into which Catholicism was fast falling that, even in his native Lancashire, he was under the necessity of rebuking certain prominent Catholics-and their number appears to have been unpleasantly large-who sought to evade the penalties of the law by publicly professing the State religion whilst practising the Catholic Faith in secret.

Already a plan was forming in Allen’s mind. William Cecil, Elizabeth’s chief minister, was a shrewd man who realized to the full the dangers of provoking resistance to the ‘New Religion.’ Catholicism in England, shut off by his legal manoeuvres from all possibility of those acts its life demanded, could be allowed to die a natural death-and events seemed to be playing right into Cecil’s hands. In the first ten years of Elizabeth’s reign, in the situation that was so largely of Cecil’s devising, a listless fatalism seems to have come upon the English Catholics. The heiresspresumptive to the English throne, Mary Queen of Scots, was a Catholic; and since the principle that a ruler had the right to determine the official faith of his subjects was coming to be held pretty widely throughout Europe, what was more natural than that people badly instructed in their faith should passively await their deliverance at the hands of a Catholic sovereign?

Cecil had, however, no intention of ever suffering a Catholic sovereign on the English throne: even before the last despairing gesture of the Rising of the North in 1569 he had laid his plans for thwarting a Catholic succession. But William Allen had also been making plans. He saw clearly that what his co-religionists most needed was priests, priests to instruct them, to administer the sacraments to them, to advise them in their difficulties, and, above all, priests to continue offering the Sacrifice of the Mass. These priests were to be missionary priests, well educated and specially trained to confute the often subtle arguments of the heretics. Cecil had thought that he had only to wait until, in the course of time, the priests ordained or reconciled to the Church before Elizabeth’s accession-Queen Mary’s priests, as they were called-died out to see English Catholicism die out with them. Allen was to confound such forecasts utterly.

WILLIAM ALLEN’S PLAN

He returned to the Low Countries in 1565 and shortly afterwards was ordained priest, and then, with the help of a number of Englishmen, exiles like himself for conscience’ sake, he began active preparations for the establishment of a Catholic Seminary at Douai in Flanders for the training of priests who would work secretly in England for the conservation and spread of the Catholic Faith.

These priests began to arrive in England in 1574 and almost immediately their influence was felt. By 1580 there were a hundred of them at work in the country. Considering the difficulties of their task, they were extremely well organized, meeting the intricate Elizabethan secret service for the suppression of the Catholic Faith with a resistance movement that was no less skilfully planned. Of all the forces employed by the Counter Reformation in England, these Douai priests easily hold pride of place. Their methods were to travel from place to place in disguise, to offer Mass, administer the sacraments of the Church and to preach the Faith, not only to those devout Catholics who had never abandoned it and whose homes provided them with their Mass centres, but also to those who had made a show of conforming to the State religion and to non-Catholics. And the measure of their success with the latter is the extreme ferocity of the laws now passed by the Government for their extermination, laws which reached the utmost limit of savagery in the terrible Act of 1585.

This made it an offence, punishable with the death of a traitor, for any priest to remain in the country, and an offence, punishable by hanging, for whoever sheltered or aided a priest. Most of the Elizabethan martyrs suffered in the eighteen years that followed this Act of 1585; one hundred and forty-six of them in all were executed, and of this number one hundred and twenty-three were convicted under the Act of 1585. For the Government was seriously alarmed at the success of the Catholic reply, especially because, after 1580, the efforts of the Douai priests were reinforced by those of the Society of Jesus and because there was abundant evidence that both secular priests and Jesuits were receiving help from a considerable body of lay people, some of them (like Margaret Clitherow herself ) recent converts to Catholicism. Of those brought to their death by the Act of 1585, twenty-seven were lay people; among them was Mrs Clitherow.

It was on March 14th, 1586, that Margaret was put on trial, her precise offence being ‘that she had harboured a nd maintained Jesuits and Seminary priests, traitors to the Queen’s majesty and her laws and that she had heard Mass and such like.’

MARGARET’S WORK FOR THE FAITH

What are the facts behind this charge? Our earliest clue to Margaret’s activities comes ten years previously, just two years after her conversion. Her name is found in a list of recusants who were in prison in 1576. A recusant was one who refused to take part in heretical worship, and that seems to have been, in the eyes of the law, the sum total of offences provable against her at that period; Margaret, well aware that she was being watched, took precautions. Nor could subsequent arrests in the ten years that followed reveal anything which might bring her before the law on the capital charge. Yet it is obvious from the account given of her spiritual adviser, Mr John Mush, one of the Douai priests whom she helped, that for years her house was one of the chief Mass centres in York.

Because of the secrecy which naturally surrounded the movements of the persecuted clergy, it is hard to arrive at any estimate of the number of priests Margaret helped in various ways. We do know that quite a large number of priests were at work in the York district. According to Mush, Margaret, whenever possible, liked to have some priest in the house so that she could begin her day with Mass, and he seems to imply that this was fairly frequent. There is a saying of hers which he quotes, which incidentally reveals the quality of Margaret’s faith

‘There is a war and a tr ial in God’s Church and therefore if I cannot do my duty without peril and dangers, yet by God’s grace I will not be slacker for them. If God’s priests dare venture themselves to my house, I will never refuse them.’ Furthermore, it was apparently quite common for her to receive Holy Communion twice a week, and we can infer from the detailed account of her spirituality which her director has left that she consulted him fairly regularly. But after all, perhaps the best testimony to Margaret’s activities is that of Hurleston, one of the members of the Council of the North most actively concerned in her prosecution. According to him, Margaret Clitherow’s work for the Faith marked her out as ‘the only woman in the North parts.’

HER HOUSE IS SEARCHED

What actually induced the Council of the North to begin proceedings against her in 1586 was the fact that two years earlier she had broken the law in a manner which was almost bound to come to light sooner or later. She had sent her eldest son abroad to Douai College, there to complete his education and to study for the priesthood.

What did John Clitherow, her husband, think about such a decisive step as this? As already noticed, he is, throughout Margaret’s story, a puzzling and-if truth be told-rather unheroic figure. For his own safety, he had been kept in the dark as much as possible regarding the use being made of his house. Yet he must surely have suspected something; more especially as Margaret not only used the house as a Mass centre, but maintained there a Catholic schoolmaster, a Mr Stapleton, to teach her own children, and also those of her Catholic neighbours. In itself this was a most serious offence, for, according to the law, not even a Protestant might teach unless he had publicly taken the oath of the Queen’s Supremacy in matters of religion and had been specially licensed as a teacher by the bishop. All this points to the conclusion that, although the summons in 1586 to appear before the Council of the North must have been a shock to John Clitherow, it could hardly have come as a complete surprise.

While he was out of the house, endeavouring to explain to the representatives of the Council sitting in York Castle the reasons for his son’s absence, the sheriffs arrived to search his house. As it happened, there was then a priest- possibly Mr Mush himself-in the house, for despite the imminent danger, Mass had actually been offered that very morning. It speaks well, however, for Margaret’s careful planning for such emergencies, that the priest escaped (probably through the house next door) without his presence being so much as suspected. It is possible that part of the plan of escape was that the schoolmaster should cover the retreat of the priest and if necessary divert the hunters from their principal quarry.

At all events, this was what Stapleton actually did. He must have been warned at the same time as the priest, but remained in his schoolroom upstairs with his pupils. Margaret and her maids were detained downstairs, while the upper parts of the house were searched. One of the searchers burst into the schoolroom, saw Stapleton and assumed he had cornered a priest. Slamming the door to prevent the supposed priest’s escape, he called for help, but the interval was quite sufficient to enable the intrepid schoolmaster to make his own getaway-tradition says, through a window. Only the schoolchildren remained to confront the pursuivants. Yet here was to be the vulnerable point in all Mrs Clitherow’s strategems.

Her own children, in all probability, would not be easily intimidated by threats. Margaret had brought them up the hard way, and their subsequent history proves how much of her own indomitable spirit she had instilled into them. Nor can we well believe that their schoolfellows from the Shambles area would be easily scared. But there was one boy present, a foreigner from Flanders, who had not been in England for very long and who was so obviously terrified out of his wits by the raid that the pursuivants selected him as the most likely to yield to threats. Fear of a beating induced him to betray the carefully-guarded secrets of the Mass House.

Vestments, Mass breads and all the other appurtenances of the altar were quickly discovered -proof positive at last of Margaret Clitherow’s activities as a harbourer of priests. Nothing further was required. She and her servants were arrested on the spot. That was the last the Clitherow children saw of their mother; yet she had trained them well! Despite repeated attempts to make them do so-attempts which included, on more than one occasion, brutal illusage-no child of Margaret Clitherow’s ever abandoned the Catholic Faith. Henry and William became priests, while Anne became a nun. No more fitting tribute to an heroic martyr mother can well be conceived.

Following her arrest, Margaret was, the same day, taken before the Council. For at least seven hours they badgered and browbeat her, but all to no effect. Not merely was she unafraid; she was positively happy! If her questioners hoped-and it is rather to their credit than the reverse if they did-that she would break down, admit her guilt; and by making a recantation, enable them to spare her life, they were sadly disappointed. Her whole attitude, in fact, infuriated them. Even the news of her husband’s arrest did not shake her, and all the discomfited authorities could do was to order her committal to York Castle, where she was confined in a cell apart from her husband.

MARGARET IN PRISON

She remained alone in this cell for the best part of two days, but on Saturday, March 12th, she was joined by a friend, Mrs Anne Tesh, who was likewise accused of harbouring priests and whose character in many ways resembles that of Margaret herself. It is, in fact, possible that she had had something to do with Margaret’s own conversion to the Church, but, at all events, her own utterly fearless Catholicism, her outspokenness and her gaiety made her an ideal prison companion. It is quite probable that they were placed together deliberately in order that their conversation might be listened to and further evidence gleaned thereby of the activities of the ‘resistance movement’ in which both were so prominent. If this were so, the Council were again disappointed; the two friends were in the best of spirits and kept up such a continual round of merriment-making a joke, for instance, of the very inconveniences of their cell- that Margaret at length thought that they were becoming altogether too boisterous and were losing some of the merit of their imprisonment!

After a few days John Clitherow was brought to her cell for what was to be their last meeting. This was no concession to humane feelings on the part of the authorities, but part of a scheme to secure evidence, for the interview took place in the presence of the jailer. That this is no fanciful supposition is clear from the rumours that the Council of the North were at pains to encourage in the town.

The story was put about that Mrs Clitherow had been arrested on the charge of harbouring two priests in particular, Francis Ingleby and John Mush. Ingleby was already in prison, but as a suspect only, for no definite evidence against him was as yet forthcoming, while Mush, although still at large, was very much a ‘wanted’ man. There was, so far as can be gathered, nothing known to the authorities to connect either priest with the Mass centre in the Shambles, but no doubt the object with which the rumours were spread was to surprise some unwary friend of Mrs Clitherow into an unguarded statement that would definitely connect one or the other, or even both, with her. It must be remembered that both the technique of espionage and the distortion of evidence had reached a very developed stage indeed in the practice of Elizabethan government and so Margaret was deliberately kept informed of these rumours in a vain attempt to trap her into some admission. She was, however, too intelligent to be caught by such subterfuges.

Nor was the terror of the gallows more successful. When she was told that her indictment was to be according to the terrible new statute of 1585, she laughed in the messenger’s face and offered him a fig as a reward for his good news! This was no passing piece of bravado. On the following Monday, while she awaited the summons to her trial, she was joking with Mrs Tesh and said to her: “Yet before I go, I will make all my brethren and sisters on the other side of the hall merry”: and looking forth of the window towards them-they were five and thirty and might easily behold her from thence-she made a pair of gallows on her fingers and pleasantly laughed at them.’

For the thought of the gallows was nothing new to Margaret! For some years she had been making frequent pilgrimages by night to the Knavesmire, where stood the gallows on which the martyrs of York suffered, and so impressed was she by the holiness of the place, hallowed as it was by the blood of her fellow Catholics, that she always performed these pilgrimages barefoot. Often she would become so absorbed in her devotions that the little band of friends who accompanied her had to drag her away when the approaching dawn made a longer stay dangerous.

The joke about the gallows was, then, no piece of half-hysterical defiance: Margaret Clitherow could, like other heroic souls of her generation, see far beyond the terrible physical agonies suffered by the martyrs; horrible as was the execution, with all its revolting and degrading circumstances, it was yet the means by which the martyr made his greatest and most powerful appeal to God to deal favourably with the cause for which he had striven in his lifetime. Margaret’s real Gethsemane was the realization that, for many of her fellow countrymen-even for her own husband-the example of the martyrs seemed to hold little profit. ‘It grieveth’ my heart,’ she said of her husband, ‘that he should so heinously offend God by slandering Catholics and the Catholic Church, whereby I fear me he shall more hardly come to God’s grace and be a member of His Church.’ Here we touch upon one of the most profound of all the mysteries of divine grace. Margaret asked of God her husband’s conversion to the Catholic Faith. On her part she would-and did-offer everything that it was possible for her to offer. A true wife, an ideal mother, devoted to works of charity-she was a great visitor of prisons, and did much to alleviate the desperate material and spiritual needs of the poor Catholic prisoners-assiduous in the performance of many acts of personal penance, neither the example she gave him nor even her martyrdom availed to convert John Clitherow!

Margaret’s care for the souls of others reveals her truly apostolic spirit: at her trial she was to give, in a totally unexpected way, the greatest proof of all this abounding charity. On Monday, March 14th, she faced her judges in the York Guild Hall. So eager was the Council of the North that she should not be acquitted that several members of it sat on the Bench with Rhodes and Clinch, the ordinary Assize judges. The reason for this was that it was well known beforehand that any sentence on Mrs Clitherow would be unpopular in York and there was just the possibility that the judges would be influenced by popular feeling. It was a tribute to Margaret Clitherow’s popularity in York that she had not been betrayed by any of her Protestant neighbours: furthermore, although York was well known to the Council as a stronghold of the underground Catholic movement, but for the discovery of the Mass requisites and the secret hiding place for the priest in her house in the Shambles, it was possible that no evidence against Margaret would have been forthcoming for a long time, if at all. Clinch himself was to say that the whole of the case against her depended on the evidence of one child. All the more reason then, from the point of view of the Council, that there should be no lastminute hitch in the proceedings. There might never be such an opportunity again.

HER TRIAL

A crowded Guild Hall reflected the interest with which the whole city of York was following the case. When, the indictment having been read, Clinch asked the formal question: ‘Margaret Clitherow, are you guilty of this indictment or not?’ her reply was enigmatical: ‘I know of no offence whereof I should confess myself guilty.’ Upon Clinch instancing that she had ‘harboured and maintained Jesuits and priests, enemies of Her Majesty,’ Margaret replied that she had never harboured or maintained traitors. This was of course a stock reply with loyal Catholics, and was not taken seriously, for Clinch, taking for granted her plea of ‘Not Guilty,’ went on to a second formal question: ‘How will you be tried?’ The usual reply (and quite obviously that expected from the prisoner in this case) was: ‘By God and the Country,’ i.e., by a jury of her fellow citizens. Instead she astonished (and puzzled) the court by her quiet reply: ‘Having made no offence, I need no trial.’ Nor would she budge from this position, to the manifest annoyance of Clinch. The most they could get from her was: ‘If you say I have offended and must be tried, I will be tried by none but God and your own consciences.’

Clearly other means would have to be used, and the next stage of the proceedings, considering that the setting was a court of law, was positively ludicrous. The Mass requisites which were found in her secret room in the Shambles were brought into court and ‘two low fellows,’ donning the vestments, began to burlesque the Elevation at Mass, saying, as they held up the altar breads, ‘Behold thy Gods in whom thou believest.’ Margaret was mockingly asked to say how she liked the vestments, a taunt to which she made answer, ‘I like them well, if they were on the backs of those that know how to use them in God’s honour as they were made.’

Equally futile was the attempt to make her confess that she had been guilty of idolatry. Clinch ask ed her: ‘In whom believe you?’ and received the obvious reply: ‘I believe in God.’ ‘In what God?’ queried Clinch. The reply he received soon put an end to this stratagem: ‘I believe in God the Father, in God the Son, and God the Holy Ghost; in these Three Persons I fully believe, and that by the passion, death and merits of Christ Jesus I must be saved.’ ‘You say well’ was the only reply Clinch could make!

Again the attempt was made to get her to submit herself to the judgment of a jury, so that the trial could proceed. Clinch assured her that the only evidence against her was that of the Flemish boy: she had no reason, therefore, to fear a jury, but if she refused to be so tried (since in any case she must be brought before the judgment of the law) she would be ‘guilty and accessory’ of her own death. An utterly absurd argument which convinced nobody; it was not likely to shake the confidence of a woman such as Mrs Clitherow! Nor could she be induced to implicate her husband, for she insisted that he had no share in what she had been doing.

Finally, Clinch, his patience exhausted, made a last attempt to induce her to plead. If she remained obstinate, the law reserved for her an extremely painful death. ‘God’s will be done,’ replied Margaret with a smile, ‘I think I may suffer any death for this good cause.’ Clinch and his companion justice, Rhodes (an extremely coarse individual who appears to have harboured some resentment against Margaret because her trial demonstrated how completely the justices were under the control of the Council of the North), were beside themselves with rage. So was Hurleston, who from the Bench watched the case for the Council. He so far forgot his position as to shout out in the court: ‘It is not for religion that thou harbourest priests, but for harlotries.’ The Council seized on this quite gratuitous and foul slander and circulated it round York as if it had appeared in evidence.

Why did Margaret Clitherow refuse to plead and undergo the normal procedure of a trial by jury? When all the circumstances of the case are considered, there can be only one answer. She wished to save as many people as possible_ from the guilt of sharing in her death.* To begin with, there was always the possibility that her own children might be forced to give evidence against her. It was possible, too, that witnesses might be suborned and, in all likelihood, perjure themselves at the instigation of the Council; in any case she did not wish a jury of her own Protestant fellow citizens of York to share with the judges, however indirectly, the responsibility for her death. But the alternative to pleading was indeed terrible!

* Lingard (History of England, 4th ed., London, 1838, p 452) States that she refused to plead guilty, because she knew that no sufficient proof could be brought against her, or not guilty, because she deemed such a plea equivalent to a falsehood!

THE TERRIBLE “ PEINE FORTE ET DURE “

At the present day, as all know, a person who has been indicted must stand his trial before a jury of twelve who deliver a verdict based on the facts of the case. But in 1586 an indicted person was not so tried unless he consented to this form of trial. The consent, however, could be and on occasion was extorted from him by torture and thus his trial made possible. If when asked, ‘How will you be tried?’ he refused to answer, ‘By God and my country,’ he was pressed under heavy weights until he either answered or died. This was the terrible peine forte et dure.

Did Margaret understand the precise penalty to which Clinch alluded in his efforts to make her place her case before a jury? It is doubtful whether at this stage of the proceedings she did. Clinch seems to have been of the opinion that she had not fully understood him in court, for he had her taken back to prison, not indeed to the cell in the Castle which she had shared with Mrs Tesh, but to a smaller and rougher prison built on a bridge spanning the Ouse. That night she received an unexpected visitor, a preacher named Wigginton, who urged her-but in vain-either to change her religion or to plead before a jury; perhaps he was sent by the timorous Clinch. We have no means of knowing now why he came, but on the following day he was to electrify the court by a dramatic intervention.

On Tuesday, March 5th, at eight in the morning, Margaret Clitherow faced her accusers for the last time. ‘How say you yet?’ asked Clinch. ‘Yester-night we passed you over without judgment, which we might then have pronounced against you if we would: we did it not, hoping that you would be something conformable, and put yourself to the country, otherwise you must needs have the law. We see nothing why you should refuse; here be but small witness against you, and the country will consider your case.’

But Margaret was not to be taken in by Clinch’s deceptive smoothness of speech and was ready with her reply: ‘Indeed, I think you have no witness against me but children, which with an apple and a rod you may make to say what you will.’ Again she refused to take her case before a jury and engaged in a spirited dialogue with the judges as to whether Catholic priests were ‘virtuous men, sent to save our souls or contemptible traitors to their country.’ The court was in an uproar and it was at this moment that Clinch again warned her of the horrible fate that awaited her if she continued to refuse to plead.

HER SENTENCE

Suddenly there was an interruption and above the babel of voices rose that of the preacher Wigginton. ‘My Lord, take heed of what you do,’ he shouted. ‘ You sit here to do justice: this woman’s case is touching life and death: you ought not, either by God’s law or man’s, to judge her to die upon the slender witness of a boy; nor unless you have two or three sufficient men of very good credit to give evidence against her.’ ‘I may do it by law,’ replied Clinch. ‘By what law?’ countered Wigginton. He could, in the circumstances of 1586, have asked no more vital question and Clinch’s defiant reply, ‘By the Queen’s law,’ drew from him the telling rejoinder, ‘That may well be, but you cannot do it by God’s law.’ The thrust went right home: alone of those on the bench, Clinch seems to have been troubled in conscience and he renewed his endeavours to make the prisoner plead.

But Rhodes was less impressionable, and, before his angry ‘Why stand we here all day about this naughty, wilful woman?’ his brother judge capitulated so far as to pass sentence conditionally. ‘Margaret Clitherow, if you will not put yourself to the country, this must be your judgment: you must return from whence you came, and there in the lowest part of the prison be stripped naked, laid down, your back upon the ground, and as much weight laid upon you as you are able to bear, and so to continue three days without meat or drink, except a little barley bread and puddle water, and the third day to be pressed to death, your hands and feet tied to posts, and a sharp stone under your back.’

This frightful sentence left Margaret completely unmoved. Her only comment w as: ‘If this judgment be according to your conscience, I pray God to send you a better judgment before Him. I thank God heartily for this.’ To Clinch’s urging that it was still possible to save her life, if only she would listen to reason and take her case before a jury, she replied that she was well aware of what she was doing, and as for the suggestion that she was needlessly throwing away her life, when she had a husband and children to care for, all they could draw from her was: ‘I would to God that myhusband and children might suffer with me for so good a cause.’ When John Clitherow heard of his wife’s sentence, ‘he fared like a man out of his wits, and wept so violently that blood gushed out of his nose in great quantity, and said, “Alas, will they kill my wife? Let them take all I have and save her, for she is the best wife in all England, and the best Catholic also.”‘ After her sentence, during the ten days that elapsed before her execution, Margaret was confined in the old prison on the bridge over the Ouse. Her husband was, however, released, but ordered to leave the city for some days. She herself was continually pestered by Protestant ministers, sent by the Council.

Why should they, at this stage, when seemingly they had got their wish in securing her condemnation, trouble with their prisoner any further? Because they still preferred if it could possibly be brought about, to be able to announce Margaret’s abandonment of her Faith: that would be the greatest triumph of all. They could then make a great show of magnanimity, spare her life and release themselves from a very awkward situation. For she was still immensely popular in York. The lengths that they were prepared to go to discredit her can be seen in the utterly fantastic tales they circulated in York in a vain attempt to discredit her character: she had been unfaithful to her husband, she had sinned with priests, she had neglected to provide decent food for her family while she kept priests in luxury, and so forth. But there was also a secondary reason for these attempts. Margaret’s friends were active on her behalf: they had hopes that if only they could reach the ear of the Queen herself, a reprieve might be secured. And as a means to obtain the necessary stay of execution, they entered on her behalf the plea that she was pregnant and therefore could not be put to death until after the birth of her child. There was, it seems, every chance of this plea succeeding, in which case all the efforts of the Council would have been in vain. As it was, it was Hurleston who finally settled Margaret’s fate. He declared to Clinch: ‘She is the only woman in the north parts, and if she is suffered to live there will be more of her order without any fear of law . . . Let her have law according to the judgment passed, for I will take it upon my conscience that she is not with child.’

THE LAST PAINFUL SCENE

We are fortunate in that Mr. Mush, Margaret’s biographer, has left us a complete account of the manner in which she spent her last hours, his source of information for the most of it being a Mrs. Yoward, a Protestant, who with her husband was confined for debt in the same prison and who, if not actually present at the last painful scene, was with her during her last night. The account describes how Mrs Clitherow rose at midnight, took off her clothes and, dressing herself in the long linen robe she had specially prepared for her execution (the thought of the nakedness enjoined by the sentence worried her considerably), knelt in prayer for several hours. About three in the morning she again arose and lay down on the hearth. Margaret’s ever practical mind was busying itself with the details of her death. She had already sent her hat to her husband ‘in sign of her loving duty to him as to her head’; her shoes and stockings she sent to her twelve-yearold daughter Anne, ‘signifying that she should serve God and follow in her steps.’

When the sheriffs came for her at eight o’clock they found her ready. The Toll Booth where she was to die was but a few yards away, but an immense crowd had gathered to see her pass. With the sheriffs were a Protestant minister, some minor officials and the four sergeants whose task it was to carry out the execution. The sergeants were so loth to undertake their duties that they hired four beggars to act in their stead. Four women and three or four workmen were also present. In the Toll Booth Margaret knelt in prayer. Led by the minister, the officials announced that they would pray with her. But on the question of prayer with heretics Margaret was adamant: ‘I will not pray with you, nor shall you pray with me: neither will I say Amento your prayers, nor shall you to mine.’ They told her to pray for the Queen. She began to pray aloud, first for the Catholic Church, the Pope and the Cardinals, then for all Christian princes. At this there was an interruption, but she continued, ‘And especially for Elizabeth, Queen of England, that God turn her to the Catholic faith, and after this mortal life she may receive the blessed joy of heaven. For I wish as much good to Her Majesty’s soul as to my own.’

The last grim preparations were complete. Dressed only in the long linen robe she had made, she lay down on the floor, a sharp stone was placed under her back, a door was laid over her, her hands were tied to two stakes in the floor. She was told to ask the Queen’s forgiveness and to pray for her. ‘I have prayed for her,’ she replied. They urged her to ask her husband’s forgiveness, to which she replied: ‘If ever I offended him (but for my conscience), I ask him forgiveness.’ They laid weights upon her, ‘seven or eight hundred-weights at least.’ ‘Jesu! Jesu! Jesu! have mercy upon me!’ were the only words the bystanders heard her utter. And in about a quarter of an hour she had gained the Martyr’s Crown.

Margaret Clitherow was canonized on October 25th, 1970.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

There is a Life and Martyrdom of Mrs. Margaret Clitherow by John Mush, a Douai priest who was her spiritual director. There are two manuscript versions of this life: both have been printed. The later of the two MSS was edited by W. Nicholson in 1849, the earlier by Fr J. Morris, S.J., in 1877. Fr Morris’s edition was reprinted in 1891, together with many other documents bearing on Margaret Clitherow’s life and times, under the title The Catholics of York under Elizabeth, and has been drawn upon freely for this account.

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Saint Margaret Mary Alacoque

BY REV. H. A. JOHNSTON, S.J

INDEX

IN the baptismal register of the parish Verosyres can still be read the follow ing entry: “Margaret, daughter of M. Claude Alacoque, royal notary, and his wife, Philiberte Lemain, was baptized by me, the undersigned Cure of Verosvres, Thursday, 25th of July, 1847. . . .” This is the beginning of the story of a wonderful life of grace. The child’s birth had taken place three days previously, on July 22nd. It was in the pleasant land of Burgundy, in the small town of Lautecour, that Margaret Alacoque was born and grew up. She had four brothers and two sisters, one brother and one sister being younger than herself. Two sisters died young, so she was left an only sister among four brothers. We have very few of those details about her home, her early years and later, about her surroundings when she was a religious, which gave such a human interest to the life of St. Therese of Lisieux, for instance. In the account of her life, which she wrote when she was 38, at the command of Pere Rolin, S.J., her director, she confined herself almost entirely to the relations between her soul and God.

CHILDHOOD”S HAPPY HOURS

She was a happy and lively child. But God early showed that He had special designs in her regard. Our Lord when on earth had special affection for little children, and He remains the same always. Children seem often to be in close touch with God and the supernatural. So it was with little Margaret. Sin appeared to her something horrible, as indeed it really is. An ebullition of natural high spirits on the part of the child could always be checked by telling her that she would offend God. When she was quite small, she repeated one day at Mass the words, “My God, I consecrate to Thee my purity, and I make a vow to Thee of perpetual chastity.” Where the child got the idea we do not know. She tells us herself that she did not know the meaning of “vow” or “chastity” at the time. It may have been the result of some pious conversation which she listened to in the family circle, or an echo of her catechism; but, more likely still, God was speaking to her heart in secret.

Her godmother, a great lady who lived in the castle of Corcheval, four miles away, often had Margaret with her between her fourth and eighth year. The pine-clad hills, the rocky gorges, the music-making streams about Corcheval, must all have had an effect on the child’s bright intelligence. The castle contained a chapel, and the facilities this gave for prayer tended to strengthen the bonds which were being woven between her soul and God. “0 my only Love,” she wrote twentyfive years later, “how much I owe You for having granted me Your benedictions from my most tender years, making Yourself the master and ownerof my heart.”

When she was eight and a half years of age her father died. He had been a thoroughly good Christian man; even today we can see a cross traced at the head of all the documents written by him as judge and Royal Notary. His death necessitated a change in the family. The mother could not look after the property and give proper attention to her five surviving children. Margaret was sent to school to the Urbanists at Charolles. Her close contact with religious naturally strengthened the ideals of piety when she already possessed. She was found sufficiently developed spiritually to make her First Communion at the then early age of nine. Like many another little girl, she begins to plan to be a nun. But she does not lose her gaiety. She is full of fun and fond of amusement. Then God begins to work out His plans in her. She is good; more, she is holy. But unless God intervenes in a special way, she is not likely to love Him with her whole heart and her whole soul. And He wants the whole of her heart. When she is eleven she falls ill, and for four years she is unable to walk. She is worn away nearly to a skeleton.

This was a hard cross for one of her years. Suffering later became a joy to her, but it was not so at the age of eleven. It is only through the virtues of later years that we can estimate the change it worked in her soul.

Margaret had during her early years a real child’s love for Mary, Mother of God. She tells us that Mary saved her from “very great dangers” during her girlhood. When her illness persisted in spite of all remedies a vow was made that if the child recovered she would be “one of Mary’s daughters.” This brought about her cure, and gave Our Blessed Lady an even more important place in her life. “She made herself so entirely mistress of my heart that she took upon herself the absolute government of me; she reproved me for my faults, and taught me to do the will of God.”

The restoration of her health had another effect, however, on Margaret. At fourteen the memory of pain is soon effaced, and the girl’s natural vivacity and love of enjoyment quickly asserted themselves. She felt the attraction of pleasant things around her, and the affection which her mother and brothers had for her encouraged her in giving herself a good time (her own. words: A me donner du bon temps). In later life she reproached herself bitterly for levity and especially for once, in company with some of her young friends, appearing disguised during the time of carnival. It was not a great crime, but it was resistance to the urging of grace. God was not yet master of the heart He had made for Himself. Bodily suffering had not succeeded; suffering of mind and spirit was to follow.

THE HAND OF GOD

Some of the property of M. Alacoque had not passed entirely to his widow. His mother, who lived with the family, and a married sister had an interest in it. This sister and her husband, Toussaint Delaroche, were hostile to the Alacoques, and seem to have been of a coarse and bitter disposition. They usurped all authority in the Alacoque household, and the life of mother and daughter became a misery. The Saint’s own words portray it clearly enough. “My mother and I were soon re- duced to hard captivity. . . . We had no longer any power in the house, and we dare not do anything without permission. It was a state of continual war. Everything was kept under lock and key, so that I could not even dress myself in order to go to Holy Mass. . . . I acknowledge that I felt keenly this state of slavery. .

“I should have thought myself happy to go and beg my bread rather than live as I was living.” Continual nagging went on in the house, and it was not easy to escape. She could not leave the house without permission of three persons, and when she wanted to go to the church to Mass or Benediction and was refused, the tears which sometimes followed were attributed to vexation at not being able to keep some secret appointment. She was not given enough to eat; she worked like a servant. And God’s design in it all? “Jesus Christ gave me to understand when I was in this state that He wished to make Himself the absolute Master of my heart.” Such suffering would have embittered many a young girl. But earnest prayer and constant meditation on the sufferings which Our Lord had to endure for her enabled Margaret Alacoque to drive every unkind thought from her mind. . In the end she came to look upon her persecutors as real benefactors.

Gradually things changed. Her brothers grew up and acquired more authority. Margaret herself was eighteen, her mother looked forward to a good marriage for her, which would help still further towards their emancipation. It was a new trial of a different kind. The love of pleasure, so long suppressed, revealed itself once more., .The world began to smile on Margaret, and she quickly responded. She began to pay more attention to dress. She mixed more in society. Eligible young men were encouraged to come to the Alacoque house. The girl felt she was being unfaithful to God’s call and a struggle raged in her soul. She had made a vow of chastity; but then she had not understood what she was doing. She had decided to become a nun but now she felt that she could not persevere. True, she had made a promise to the Blessed Virgin during her illness, but her mother was ill now and wanted her to settle in the world. Could she break her mother’s heart? Then she tried to compromise. She increased her mortifications, but at the same time she did not give up the round of pleasure. She inflicted cruel sufferings on herself, but she would not give Our Lord what He wanted. His grace pursued her, however, and just when she seemed likely to yield to her mother’s wishes, and agree to be married, He spoke so strongly to her one day after Communion, representing how unworthy it would be if, after all His favours, she would turn her back on Him and give herself to another, that she was finally conquered. It was like the snapping of a chain, like the dawning of the day after a troubled night.

The story of the struggle between God and the world in the heart of St. Margaret Mary during the early part of her life has its counterpart in the heart of many a young girl at the present day here in our own country. God is near her in childhood, and she gives her young heart to Him. She passes to a convent school, and opportunities for frequent Communion lead to more intimate friendship with Our Lord. Vacations sometimes bring forgetfulness and carelessness, but Our Lord wins her heart once more to Himself. Fifteen or sixteen comes, and the beauty and worth of religious life make a strong appeal. She becomes conscious, with a little surprise and perhaps fear, that she has a vocation, that Our Lord is calling her to follow Him. But the dangerous years are at hand. She begins to feel more strongly the attraction of pleasure and amusement. Admiration and flattery bring new and exhilarating sensations. The Voice of God is not heard so clearly. Perhaps, she thinks, she was mistaken in thinking she had a vocation. If she ventures to mention the idea, her friends poohpooh it. At any rate, she must wait for a few years and enjoy herself first. Intercourse with the world does the rest and often very often, Our Lord has lost a friend, the Church an apostle, and a soul the grandest opportunity in this life, and a crown of wondrous beauty in life everlasting.

“THE SNARE IS BROKEN”

Margaret Alacoque was not twenty years of age. Her mind was fully made up, and she began to live as devoted a life as she could in preparation for her entry into religion. She prayed much, knowing her own weakness; she gave herself to works of charity; she went to extremes, having no one to guide her in the matter of mortification. Not that her troubles were over.

Four years were to pass before she could give herself to God in religious life. Her mother, and still more her brother, opposed her wish. The Delaroche family resumed their rough treatment. Her relative and godfather, the curé of the parish, who seems to have been infected with Jansenism, was a further obstacle to her, instead of being a help, in the way of God. Then pressure was brought to bear on her to force her against her judgement and God’s wish into a convent where she had a cousin. “I am going to be a religious solely for love of God,” she said. She prayed earnestly that God would send her help. “Is it possible,” was the reply, “that a child so fondly loved as you are should be lost in the arms of an all-powerful Father?”

In 1669, when she was twenty-two, she was confirmed and took the name of Mary. The following year God sent a Franciscan Father to Verosvres, and Margaret Mary opened her heart to him. He checked her extravagances, as, for instance, when she naively transcribed whole pages of sins from examinations of conscience and accused herself of them all; but with regard to her vocation he took her side at once, and spoke strongly to her brother Chrysostom. So the path was cleared at last, and she entered the Visitation Convent at Paray-le-Monial in June, 1671. She was then 24 years of age. She tells us herself of the joy with which she left her home. Even her mother’s tears did not sadden her. But when she was on the point of entering the convent, sadness and fear assailed her, and she felt as if she would die. It had often been thus, before and since, with those who were giving themselves completely to God. The great St. Teresa, writing later in life, says: “I can remember, as if it were today, how, as I was leaving my father’s house, I felt in such a state that I think if I had been at the point of death Icould not have felt greater pain.” But the pain soon passed, and the joy which followed was lasting.

A NOVICE

Emphasis has been laid on the difficulties St. Margaret Mary had to contend with, in order to correct the common opinion that saints are turned out as if ready-made. Through the sufferings and trials to which she had been subjected, she had already reached high sanctity. Her spirit of prayer, her union with God, and her love of suffering, were remarkable. God had already conferred very special marks of His favour upon her. Naturally, therefore, she began her religious life with great fervour. There were things she found hard at first, but these were a small price to pay for so great a treasure. She made the mistakes of a beginner, as when she thought she could please God by doing penance for which she had no permission.* She had not always the courage to ask for explanations when she did not understand the instructions of her novice-mistress.

*This is intelligible in a postulant; but it is surprising to find her love of suffering leading her into this same mistake even after her profession. “That was for Me.” Our Lord said to her once, when she prolonged .an act of penance beyond the time for which leave had been given, “What you are doing now is for the devil.”

About two months after her entrance into the convent she received the habit. This event brought to Sister Margaret Mary intense joy and consolation. God drew her to Himself at first by sweetness, but only in order that she might be strengthened for the perfect sacrifice of self which He desired of her . . . Naturally enough, she became a little attached to this interior consolation for its own sake, and complained at its withdrawal. Out Lord pointed out her mistake to her. Sanctity does not consist in pious feeling or interior consolation, but in giving up self-love and in loving God for His own sake. “Everyone that doth not renounce all that he possesseth cannot be My disciple.” Sister Margaret Mary, then, had to learn to give up all seeking for her own interest; her own convenience, her own honour, her own will. This did not come easy to her. The young religious on her entrance does not leave human nature at the convent gate.

The new novice, prompted by God, asked for humiliations from her novice-mistress. She was refused those she asked, but received others she felt much more keenly. When she had entered the convent, her brother, Chrysostom, had stipulated that she was never to be asked to eat cheese. One day it happened, probably by accident, that cheese was served to her along with the others at table. She felt impelled to make the sacrifice of her dislike. She could not. Her novice-mistress coldly told her she was not worthy to make the sacrifice. Three days of prayer and tears followed, and she succeeded in overcoming herself. Another struggle went on for a long time. Naturally of an affectionate disposition, she became unduly attached to another Sister. Our Lord let her know that this displeased Him, but still she could not give up the satisfaction the attachment yielded her. She tried to love God and indulge herself at the same time. After some months Our Lord delivered an ultimatum, we might say. He let her understand that He did not want a divided heart. If she did not give up creatures He would leave her. Then her good will asserted itself, and she gave herself entirely to God.

Through her superiors and her companions could not but be struck by the fervour of Sister Margaret Mary, her charity, her ready obedience, her joyfulness under humiliation, still the extraordinary union with God which even now she enjoyed during her prayer, and the special graces she received, which she could not hide, seemed to make her unsuitable for the Visitation Order. The year of her noviceship passed, and she was not allowed to take her vows. She was told she would not be useful to the Congregation; her ways were too extraordinary. The novice complained to Our Lord, and was assured she would be more useful than anyone imagined. “Tell your superior that I will answer for you.” So, after further tests of her obedience and humility, she was told to prepare for her profession.

CONSECRATED TO GOD

During her retreat before profession she may be said to have lived in heaven. She was a little too anxious about her General Confession, and Our Lord said to her: “Why are you worried? Do what is in your power and I will supply for what is wanting. I require nothing so much in the Sacrament as a contrite and humble heart which, with a sincere wish never to offend Me, accuses itself without pretence.” After that, wonderful joy in God took possession of her soul. But then she was shown all she had to suffer during life, and she shuddered at the thought of it. She was told not to fear, however, and Our Lord conferred on her the great grace of being always conscious of His presence. Sometimes this presence of God was to lift her up in transports of love, and she would cry; “0 my Love, my Life, my All; You are all mine, and I am all Yours.” At other times it was to make her sink down into her own nothingness, and to feel confusion at the thoughts of her own unworthiness inGod’s sight. Her sentiments at the end of the retreat before her profession may be best understood from what she wrote herself: “I, poor, miserable nothing, protest to God that I will offer and sacrifice myself in all that He asks of me, offering my heart wholly to the accomplishment of His will without any other desire than that of His greater glory and His pure love to which I consecrate my whole being and every moment of my life. I belong forever to my Beloved as His slave, His handmaid, His creature, since He is everything to me and I am His unworthy spouse, Sister Margaret Mary, dead to the world. All from God, and nothing from myself; all in God and nothing in myself; all for God and nothing for myself.” In those dispositions she consecrated herself to God by the three vows of chastity, obedience, and poverty on the 6th November, 1672.

The period which followed her profession was still a time for probation, and Our Lord still kept preparing her for the work to which He had called her. Through her He was to spread the fire of His love; her own heart must, therefore, be wholly set on fire. Her daily prayer drew her even closer to God. “I often present myself before Him,” she wrote, “as a sick person before an all-powerful Physician. I place myself before Him as a living victim, whose only desire is to be offered as a holocaust in the pure flames of His love.” She was more and more drawn by the presence of Our Lord in the Blessed Sacrament, and in her hours of adoration His love took fuller possession of her heart. At the same time, she was tried by humiliations and contradictions, lest spiritual joys should beget selfishness. She was still told that she was not walking the safe road of the daughters of St. Francis de Sales. She was sent to do household tasks during the hour of prayer. On Easter Sunday a feeling of discontent rose in her mind on this account, but Our Lord reproved her and said: “The prayer of submission and sacrifice is more agreeable to Me than contemplation and every other kind of meditation, however holy it may appear.” Her sanctity was to be solidly built from the foundations.

Sister Margaret Mary, like the other nuns of the convent, was given different offices or charges at different time. First she was assistant infirmarian, and was not a great success outwardly. She was awkward and timid, apparently, quite unlike the active and competent infirmarian, and frequently fell and broke things. She twice had charge of the children, an office for which she felt a great repugnance. But the difficulties and the apparent want of success were doing their work of making her more useful. When she fell into faults of vanity or self-seeking, Our Lord did not allow her to have peace in them. He would be gentle to weakness, but severe to infidelity. He made known to her how much He suffered through the sins of men, and He told her He wanted her, by her unselfish love, to atone for them. Thus Our Lord led her on, step by step, till she could write: “My Beloved has consumed in me every desire but that of receiving His divine love, and has left me without fear of anything except sin.” The preparation was complete, and Our Lord could now go on to the accomplishment of His wonderful designs.

GOD”S WAY

If an observer had cast his eye around France towards the end of the year 1673 and considered what events of the day were most likely to have permanent effects on later history, his attention might have fastened on the figure of Louis XIV playing the grand part of Grand Monarque to such perfection; or on Condé and Turenne, winning brilliant victories on the eastern frontier; or on the poets and litterateurs of the time, La Fontaine, Boileau, Racine; or on the pulpits where Bossuet and Bourdaloue moved vast congregations by their eloquence. But he would have known nothing of a Visitation Convent in Paray-le-Monial, or an insignificant member of its community; or if by chance he had known, his thoughts would not have rested there. It is the old story of the diversity between God’s ways and thoughts and man’s ways. The devotion to the Sacred Heart has had an immense influence in the Church. From it sinners have drawn hope and grace of repentance, while the just have found in it a source of fervour. It has brought countless numbers to the confessional and the altar rail, and has given to the Blessed Sacrament the position in the hearts of Catholics which is Its due. All this can be traced back to Saint Margaret Mary. It is true she had her forerunners; but if devotion to the Sacred Heart and the treasure of grace it contains are no longer the possession of a few privileged souls, but of all the faithful, this is due to the revelations made by Our Lord to the Visitation nun of Paray-le-Monial.

It was most appropriate that on the feast of St. John the Evangelist, December 27, 1673, Our Lord began His great revelations. When Sister Margaret Mary was before the Blessed Sacrament, Our Lord appeared to her,* and, having given her remarkable proofs of His love and tenderness, He made known to her, she writes, the marvels of His love and inexplicable secrets of His Sacred Heart which He had hidden until then. “My Divine Heart,” He said, “is so inflamed with love for men, and for you in particular, that, not being able to restrain within itself any longer the flames of its ardent charity, it must spread them everywhere by means of you and manifest itself to men that they may be enriched with its precious treasures.”

“Behold the designs for which I have chosen you.”

*Whether these appearances were exterior, perceived by the external senses, or interior and intellectual, we have no means of determining.

THE SACRED HEART

Little by little, during the course of the next two years, 1674 and 1675, Our Lord unfolded the full meaning of devotion to His Sacred Heart. At the next appearance of Our Lord, Sister Margaret Mary saw the divine heart “as if on a throne of flame, more radiant than a sun and transparent as crystal, with its adorable wound. It was surrounded by a crown of thorns, which signified the pain which our sins inflicted on it, and was surmounted by a cross, which signified that from the first moment of His Incarnation, when the Sacred Heart was formed, the cross was planted there, and His Heart felt all the bitterness which would be caused by the humiliations, poverty, grief, and dishonour which the Sacred Humanity would suffer through the course of His life and during His Passion. He made me see that the ardent desire which He had of being loved by men, and of rescuing them from the path of perdition along which Satan drives them in crowds, had made Him form this design of manifesting His Heart to me, with all the treasures of love, of mercy, of grace, of sanctification and of salvation which it contains.” He asked that He should be honoured under the figure of this heart of flesh, and promised that He would scatter His graces and blessings wherever that holy image should be exposed and honoured. “This devotion was, as itwere, a last effort of His love for men in these latter ages.”

Some time later the Saint again saw Our Lord, this time with His five wounds shining like five suns, and flames bursting forth from His Sacred Person, but especially from His Heart. Again He made known to her “the inexplicable wonder of His pure love, and to what an excess He had carried His love for men.” But now He added that the ingratitude and forgetfulness which He had met with in return for His burning love caused Him more pain than all the sufferings of His Passion. He asked that Margaret Mary should make up for this ingratitude as much as she could. What was she to do? First, she was to receive Him in Holy Communion as often as she was permitted. Secondly, she was in particular to receive Holy Communion as an act of reparation on the First Friday of each month. Thirdly, she was to spend the hour from eleven to twelve every Thursday night in His company, sharing with Him the sorrow by which He was crushed at Gethsemane.

FEAST OF LOVE

The last of the great revelations came on a day within the octave of Corpus Christi, 1675. The Saint knelt again before the Blessed Sacrament, and as she expressed her desire to make some return to Our Lord for His wonderful love for her, He told her she could do nothing greater than what He already often asked of her. Showing His Heart, He said: “Behold this Heart which has so loved men, which has spared nothing, even to being exhausted and consumed, in order to testify to them Its love, And the greater number of them make Me no other return than ingratitude, by their coldness and forgetfulness of me in this Sacrament of love. But what is still more painful to Me is that it is hearts who are consecrated to Me that treat Me thus.” After this Our Lord went on to ask for something new, for the establishment of a public feast in honour of His Sacred Heart on the Friday after the octave ofCorpus Christi: “I promise you that My Heart will pour out in abundance the effects of its divine love on all those who will render it this honour or cause it to be so honoured.” When Margaret Mary very naturally put forward her powerlessness, Our Lord first reminded her that it was customary with Him to make use of little ones that were poor in spirit for His greatest works that His power might shine forth more clearly. Then He told her to have recourse to His servant, Father de la Colombiere, S.J., who would assist her.

Thus did Our Lord give to the world this treasure of devotion to His Sacred Heart. In a sense the devotion was not new. Even in the Old Law, God said of His erring children: “I will draw them with the cords of Adam, with the bands of love.” In the Incarnation the goodness and kindness of God our Saviour were made manifest to men. But even then “His own received Him not.” His benefits were met by injury. “Many good works have I showed you from My Father,” Our Lord said to the Jews, “for which of those works do you stone Me?” “Watch and pray with Me,” was the request to the Apostles on Mount Olivet. All the elements of devotion to the Sacred Heart were thus in the Church from the beginning. St. John, the beloved disciple, had expressed its spirit when he wrote, “God is love.” In His revelations, then, to St. Margaret Mary, Our Lord was only making a fresh effort to secure the object for which He had come among men, “to cast fire on the earth.” “The great desire Our Lord has that His Sacred Heart should be honoured by some particular devotion,” we read in one of Margaret Mary’s letters, “is in order to renew in souls the effect of His Redemption.”

SO AS BY FIRE

We are always inclined to pay too much attention to the favours the Saints received from God, and to overlook the price which they paid for them. Sister Margaret Mary had to pay very highly for the great graces she received. “He taught me first,” she writes, “that His special graces would always be accompanied by some humiliation, contradiction or contempt on the part of creatures.” We have seen how she was looked upon with suspicion while she was a novice. Matters did not improve after her profession in November, 1672. As the workings of God’s grace grew manifest, she attracted more attention. Joking grew into mockery; she was called a visionary and a hypocrite. Even the children in the Convent noted and wondered at the unkind things that were said and done to her. And all the time she herself was haunted by a terrible dread that she was being deceived. Her superior told her to consult several learned directors; and they were unanimous in their opinion that she was deluded. The great revelations of the Sacred Heart, which began about a year after her profession, only increased her trials. Our Lord had told her to keep nothing concealed from her superior. Though, as she says herself, she would have preferred to read out her general confession in the refectory, she told everything to Mother de Saumaise. The Reverend Mother treated with contempt all she told her, and refused to allow her to carry out any of the things she believed Our Lord had asked of her. A little later a miraculous recovery from illness, which had been asked for as a sign from God, convinced Mother de Saumaise that Margaret Mary was led by the Spirit of God. Nonetheless, she continued to try her by her snubs and contradictions.

The community of Paray-le-Monial was on the whole a fervent one, but Our Lord had cause for complaint with not a few of its members on account of their love of esteem and their want of charity. In fact, His words about the deliberate faults of these religious are terrifying. Margaret was called upon to make herself a victim for them. In November 1677, she was asked for what was the greatest sacrifice of her life. At first she could not bring herself to yield, but Our Lord persuaded her, and at last, on the eve of the Presentation of Our Lady, she was literally forced to do what He asked of her. When the Sisters were assembled in the evening Margaret Mary, having obtained her superior’s leave, knelt in the midst of them, and made known Our Lords message, that He was angry with the community on account of certain faults, and that He had chosen her as the victim of His injured love. We can imagine the feelings this declaration would arouse. Sister Margaret Mary was only a few years professed; she had excited adverse comment by her ways of acting; and now she publicly censures the whole community. The Saint herself felt the situation keenly. “I never suffered so much,” she states simply in her account of the incident. Matters were made worse when the superior gave orders for an act of mortification to be performed that night by all in order to appease the anger of God. Some of the less fervent nuns sought out Sister Margaret Mary, questioned her, insulted her, and treated her as mad and possessed by the devil.

THE FLESH IS WEAK

In the following year, 1678, Mother de Saumaise left Paray-le-Monial. In her Margaret lost a superior who had come to understand and sympathize with her, and one for whom she herself admits, she had a special affection. “I have felt our separation,” the Saint wrote soon after, “although it is only in body, more than I can tell you.” The next superior was a Mother Greyfie. At hercoming she writes, “I found opinion very much divided about this true Spouse of Jesus Crucified.” That is a good description of her. Margaret Mary says herself: “When I think of Our Lord on the Cross, life without suffering becomes insupportable to me.” This does not mean that she found suffering easy to bear. When Our Lord offered her a choice between “the happiest life imaginable for a religious: a life of peace, of interior and exterior con- solation, and of perfect health,” and “a poor, an abject life; crucified, despised, contradicted, always suffering both in bodyand soul, she accepted the latter: but her whole nature revolted. “Crosses were a real joy to her,” wrote Mother de Saumaise, “but she felt them keenly.” She had a constant struggle with herself, with her own weakness and inconsistency,” as she put it. “I am not faithful, and I fail often,” she sorrowfully confesses. In order to overcome herself, as we have seen, she had to take a vow to accept any employment given to her, to answer letters, and to go to the parlour as the rule prescribed. But these and other things never became easy. “My dislikes,” she states in later life, “seem rather to increase than diminish.”

It is, therefore, one with human feelings and human weakness whom we must think of as bearing her cross so faithfully to the end. If we could trace her life step by step we should find it always, till just near the end, a life of suffering and selfsacrifice. We should find the trials which she underwent at the hands of others continuing. We should find her tempted to vanity and despair. We should see her going humbly to her superior when attacked by ravenous hunger, and sometimes being told to go to the dispenser for something to eat, at other times being coldly told to wait and satisfy her hunger with the rest of the community. Mother Greyfie did not spoil her. “I hardly ever let anyone see,” she writes, “that I believed anything extraordinary about her. I never spoke to her either inside or outside the house. If she did anything that displeased others, even by my orders or permission, I allowed others to blame her, and blamed her myself if it were done in my presence.” At the same time Mother Greyfie was a great help to her, and encouraged her to bear her sufferings with meekness and humility. The following piece of advice which she wrote for Sister Margaret Mary is striking in its commonsense, and at the same time lets us see that the task of becoming a Saint is a very homely one after all: “Your most excellent practice of mortification and penance will be to adapt your humours and inclinations to each occasion as it comes, and not to show exteriorly what you suffer interiorly. Be happy at recreation, always amiable and kind to your Sisters, and to anybody you have to deal with;and be devout in all your duties to God.”

THE HIDDEN FIRE

And what of devotion to the Sacred Heart all this time? At first we have seen Margaret Mary’s accounts of the messages she received from God were not credited. In January, 1675, before the last of the great revelations, Father Claude de la Colombiere was appointed Rector of the small Jesuit House at Paray. “A gifted man wasted in such a position,” said those who overlooked God’s providence. Margaret Mary opened her heart to him, and, while receiving advice calculated to keep her firmly rooted in humility, she was told to follow without fear where God led her, always being careful about obedience. The ill-disposed declared that Margaret Mary was deceiving Father de la Colombiere, as she had already deceived many others. She made known to him what Our Lord had asked of her with regard to devotion to the Sacred Heart, and was greatly edified by the humility with which he received the message that he had been chosen by Our Lord to be the apostle of the new devotion. Father de la Colombiere spent only a year and a half at Paray, and then, to the sorrow of Margaret Mary, was sent to London in the middle of the year 1676. In his parting message, he reminded her that God asked of her everything and nothing; everything, because He wanted complete surrender to His Will; nothing, because the work should be all His and the glory all His.

Father de la Colombiere spent two years in England, the first apostle of the Sacred Heart. It was during these years that St. Margaret Mary had her greatest trial, in 1677, as described already. At the beginning of 1679, Father de la Colombiere was driven out of England. He paid a passing visit to Paray-le-Monial, and was able to encourage Sister .Margaret Mary in some of the painful temptations, already alluded to, which she was suffering. He also reassured the superior, Mother Greyfie, who had come to Paray in his absence.

“Humility, simplicity, exact obedience, and mortification,” he said, “are not the fruits of the spirit of darkness.” In the Autumn of 1681 Father de la Colombiere returned to Paray, this time to die. Sister Margaret Mary saw him twice, but he could speak only with difficulty. When he died in February, 1682, she spoke of him as a Saint, frequently asked his intercession, and asserted that his prayers in heaven would do much to spread devotion to the Sacred Heart. This devotion, Our Lord told Margaret Mary, was to be given in a special way to the Fathers of the Society of Jesus to propagate. The Venerable Claude de la Colombiere was a worthy pioneer.

In 1684 Mother Greyfie left Paray. She had been convinced of the true sanctity of Sister Margaret Mary, and, better still, had been imbued with her zeal for the interests of the Sacred Heart. Two of the Saint’s superiors, having kindled their lamps at the shrine of Paray, were now carrying the light of devotion to other communities. This was a consolation to Margaret Mary in her many trials. She herself tried to do what she could to win others to the love of the Sacred Heart, but she met with such opposition that she was tempted to give up. She persevered, “for,” as she wrote to Mother de Saumaise, “difficulties are an assurance that the work is God’s, and that He will be much glorified by it.”

APOSTOLATE

In January, 1685, the new superior appointed Sister Margaret Mary mistress of novices. The post brought both its consolations and its trials. On the one hand, she could speak freely to the novices and communicate to them some of her own burning love for Our Lord. “Our Mother,” the novice said, “is like another St. John, and can only speak the language of love.” On the other hand, some of the older nuns were upset by her “new” devotions and threatened to denounce her to the Bishop. She got into great trouble because she decided against the vocation of a postulant from a distinguished family. The old complaints broke out afresh. Father Rolin, S.J., who was now her director (it is to his orders that we owe Margaret Mary’s account of her life), bade her to be of good heart. “All the names people call you, humiliating as they are, ought only to make you thank God, and pray for those who say such things.” On her feast day, July 20th, the novices determined to prepare a pleasant surprise for her. They rose in the middle of the night-let us hope with permission- and prepared an altar with a little picture of the Sacred Heart. Then, wishing to be free in the morning, they did their work in the refectory, but in their eagerness-novice-like-they made too much noise and drew forth complaints from the older Sisters, who were disturbed in their slumbers, and earned an admonition from the superior. In the morning, the mistress and her novices consecrated themselves to the Sacred Heart. During the day Margaret Mary sent a novice to invite some of the rest of the community to join in the devotion. “Go and tell your mistress,” was the cold reply, “that the best devotion is the practice of our rules and constitutions.” In point of fact, there was no lack of solidity in the training the novices were getting. Meekness, humility, charity, self-sacrifice-these, as we might expect, were the virtues the novice mistress laid most stress an. She did not lead these young religious by strange and dangerous ways. “The way of God for us,” she told them, “is by our holy rules.”

HE MUST REIGN

But the hour of triumph was at hand. The very next year after the events just revealed, on the octave day of Corpus Christi, 1686, one of the Sisters who had been most opposed to the new devotion went to Margaret Mary and asked for the picture of the Sacred Heart. The next day, the very day Our Lord Himself had chosen as the feast of the Sacred Heart, to the surprise of all, an altar to the Sacred Heart was prepared in the nuns” choir. Our Lord had conquered, and the change which the adoption of the devotion wrought in the spirit of fervour of the community was observed by all. Two years later, in 1688, a chapel erected in the garden of the convent in honour of the Sacred Heart was solemnly blessed.

Of th e remaining two years of Margaret Mary’s life there is little to be told. “I can no longer occupy myself with anything but the Sacred Heart of Jesus,” she confessed. She was now Mother Assistant and, though outward trials ceased, she suffered, if possible, still more interiorly. All the time she was working and praying for the spread of the devotion. In spite of her great repugnance, she wrote many letters. The published notes of the retreat of Father de la Colombiere were now in circulation, a source ofjoy to the Saint, and at the same time of “frightful shame and confusion,” because of some references in them to herself. Various Visitation convents had taken up the devotion warmly. A Jesuit, Father Croisset, had published a little book on the subject. Margaret Mary said it was time for her to die. Indeed, she was worn out by suffering and love.

COME LORD JESUS

The year 1690 came, and with it the end of suffering. Margaret Mary could not understand the calm she experienced. The temple of God was finished, the noise of hammer and chisel ceased, and the scaffolding was cleared away. The love of Christ had overcome everything that could oppose it, and perfect peace ensued. The venturesome and perilous voyage was over, and the vessel had come under lee of the shore. On the 8th of October the Saint was taken ill. Though the doctor said there was no danger, she knew the end was come. Nine days of preparation were given her; then one last struggle, as the thought of God’s purity came over her, and finally peace again, never to be broken, as she gave up her soul to the Sacred Heart of Jesus. “How sweet it is to die,” she had once written, “after having had a constant devotion to the Heart of Him who is to be our Judge!” Her birthday into eternal life was October 17th, 1690. She was beatified by Pius IX in 1864 and canonized by Benedict XV in 1921.

Imprimatur:

@ DANIEL MANNIX.

Archiepiscapus Melbournensis.

Nihil obstat:

PERCY JONES. Censor Deputatus.

THE TWELVE PROMISES of the Sacred Heart to St. Margaret Mary concerning all who practise devotion to the Sacred Heart.

1. I will give them all the graces necessary for their state of life.

2. I will give peace in their families.

3. 1 will console them in all their troubles.

4. They will find in my Heart an assured refuge during life and especially at the hour of death.

5. I will pour abundant blessings on all their undertakings.

6. Sinners will find in my Heart the source and infinite ocean of mercy.

7. Tepid souls shall become fervent.

8. Fervent souls will speedily rise to great perfection.

9. I will bless the homes in which the image of my Sacred Heart is exposed and honoured.

10. 1 will give to priests the power to touch the most hardened hearts.

11. Those who spread this devotion will have their name written in my Heart, never to be effaced.

12. The all-powerful love of my Heart will grant to all those who shall receive Communion on the First Friday of nine consecutive months, the grace of final repentance; they shall not die under my displeasure, nor without receiving their Sacraments; my Heart will be their assured refuge at that last hour.

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Saint Margaret of Cortona

INDEX

(1247–1297)

The life of St. Margaret of Cortona is an example of God’s mercy to the sinner, and is full of consolation for the penitent. In St. Margaret we see one who had abandoned God, but was not abandoned by Him. God watched over her, listened to her faint cries for help, treasured up her feeble desires of a return, till at length, by a great act of His love, He brought her out of the wilderness of sin in which for nine years she had wandered.

This glorious Saint, who was destined by Almighty God to draw numberless souls from an evil life to a life of grace, was born in the year 1247, at Laviano, a hamlet distant about twelve miles from Cortona. Laviano at the present day has little attraction except for those who love St. Margaret. It stands on a hill which rises out of the Val di Chiano, and is picturesquely situated in the midst of pine woods. The little Church of SS. Vitus and Modestus, some four or five houses, and the cottage pointed out as the birth-place of St. Margaret, are all that now remain of the village. This cottage is little better than a shed, for which, it would seem, the ground floor is used. The upper room-there is only one-is approached by a staircase from the outside. In this room is a faded picture of St. Margaret, over a broken bracket, where an altar may once have stood, and a fire-place in one corner.

The cottage stands at the foot of a little height on which Margaret, in her happy childhood, no doubt often played with her companions. Her eyes then looked upon the scene upon which on our visit we gazed with admiration. To our right was the valley of the Chiano, before us a mountain-range on the lower slope on which we could see in the distance the white houses of Montepulciano. Above Montepulciano rose the beautiful outline of Monte Santa Fiora, and ranging further to the left, Monte Citone, whilst in the valley beneath were the placid waters of the Lake of Montepulciano.

Margaret’s parents were simple country people, who lived by their daily labour. Her father cultivated his little plot of ground, whilst her mother was occupied in the care of the house and of her children. Soon after Margaret’s birth her pious parents took their little babe to be baptized in the parish church of St. Peter at Pozzuolo, a village on the hill which rises above Laviano. In baptism the name of Margaret, or Pearl, was given to the child by what has well been called a special dispensation of Providence, Who had destined Margaret to be a precious Pearl in the corona of Saints that surround His throne. As soon as Margaret could speak, her pious mother taught her to pronounce the sweet names of Jesus and Mary, and to love Jesus crucified. So fond did the little one become of the crucifix that she would often hold it in her infant hands and cover it with kisses.

But death came to this happy home, and Margaret lost her mother when she was only seven or eight years of age. This was naturally a great grief to Margaret, as well as a great misfortune for her, since she was now deprived of a mother’s love and that training which a mother alone can give. Time passed on, and Margaret’s father, wishing to provide some one to look after his children and his house, married again. But his wife, to his sorrow, took a dislike to Margaret, treated her harshly, and made her home unbearable to her. The high spirited girl resented this treatment. Her heart sought for love and found it not; she shrank into herself, and her home became miserable. Her father, who was most of the day absent at his work, would find, on his return home, discord where there should have been peace: and Margaret’s tearful eyes showed him how unhappy she was. So were sown the seeds of her trouble.

As Margaret grew in age she grew also in beauty and grace of form. All who knew of her unhappiness at home felt a sympathy for, and all admired, the beautiful girl of sixteen years of age. About this time a young nobleman from Montepulciano came to reside at the country seat of his family, the Palazzo as it is now called, not far distant from Laviano. He heard of Margaret, and desired to see the village beauty. One day when riding to Laviano he caught sight of Margaret, and he was smitten with her charms. His visits were repeated, and at length he told her of his love. He spoke of his palace at Montepulciano, which he asked her to share with him, and of the rich dresses and jewels which he would give her if she would consent to leave the path of virtue. Margaret, unhappy at home, and desiring to exchange illtreatment for affection, her poor cottage for a grand house, splendid attire for her humble garb, yielded to the persuasions of the young nobleman, and went to live at his palace. Margaret, dazzled by the splendour of her surroundings and flattered by the attention she received, for a time felt a joy to which she had long been a stranger. Still she was not truly happy; the pleasures which surrounded her, the society into which she entered, the affection lavished upon her, the luxurious palace, could not satisfy her heart. Margaret looked back to the days when she was at home; she thought of her dead mother’s love and her father’s care, and she sighed for release from what she felt to be slavery-the slavery of sin. Her conscience reproached her. She would often retire from society to weep in secret and beg for the mercy of God, which she strove to gain by works of mercy to the poor. Still she had not as yet the courage to break the bonds which enchained her. But God’s time was at hand. He was about to make His justice felt, and at the same time to show His mercy.

Some dispute having arisen respecting the boundaries of the property at the Palazzo, where Margaret was now residing, the young nobleman went out to endeavour to settle the disputed claim. He met those who denied his right;-a quarrel ensued-and the young man was killed. His assailants, to conceal the body, dragged it into a thicket and covered it with leaves and brushwood.

When, on the day of his departure, the sun was about to set, Margaret looked anxiously from the window of the Palazzo, expecting the return of her lover, but there was no sign of him. She retired to rest and arose the following morning, wearied and depressed. That day was followed by another night of distress, and another day of alarm and almost despair, when she saw approaching the castle the faithful dog that had accompanied his master. At length he is coming, she thought, and ran down to welcome him home. But no, the dog lay down at her feet, howled mournfully, and then pulled her by the dress as if desiring her to follow him. Trembling and fearing some ill, Margaret followed where she was led. After they had gone some miles, the dog stopped beneath an oak-tree, scratched away a heap of leaves with his paws, and revealed to Margaret the body of him she had loved. A faintness came over her, and she fell to the ground. On recovering her senses she arose, gazed at the corpse before her, and then by God’s mercy the eyes of her soul were opened. She saw the state to which death had reduced that countenance which had been so pleasing in her eyes; she thought of where the soul had gone; she knew it had passed the judgment-seat of God, and only too probably had been condemned to that Hell which would be her portion also unless she repented.

These thoughts, by God’s grace, penetrated into her heart. They conve rted her, and she, who had fallen to the ground a sinner, arose a penitent.

Margaret returned to the Palazzo an altered woman and whilst grieving over what she had reason to fear must be the sad state of him she had lost, she grieved yet more over her own sins. Had she not been the cause of the unhappy nobleman’s continuance in sin? She determined henceforth to do all in her power to blot out her sins by penances and by prayer. “O Lord, be merciful to me a sinner,” was now her continued cry “Lord, save me, or I perish;” for she felt, from the weakness of her nature, a return to sin even now was possible.

The attendants at the Castello were surprised to see the sad and downcast look of Margaret, so different from her former proud and stately bearing. They soon learned the cause of her woe, and their sympathy prompted them to minister to her with even greater willingness and deference than before. She begged them, for the love of God, not to show her so much respect. “I am not worthy to receive attentions from you,” she would say; “I am Margaret the sinner, who for so long has offended our God; I do not deserve your homage; reserve that for those who may be worthy of it. Think of me no longer as your mistress, but pray for me that God may forgive me my sin.”

Having laid aside her rich robes, she clothed herself in the garb of a penitent, disposed of all the wealth that had been lavished upon her, gave to the relations of the young lord all that had belonged to him, and then began to consider where she might find a shelter for herself and her child.

But where could she go? Should she return to Montepulciano, the scene of her sinful life? No, that would be again to place herself in fresh occasions of sin, and that she was determined to avoid. Should she go to Laviano? Here poverty and a hard life awaited her, and she knew not if her father would receive her. Her step-mother she felt would be still more harsh in her treatment of her. But no matter; she had sinned, and now she would accept humiliations and harsh treatment as some compensation to God for her crime. So, like the prodigal in the Gospel, she said: “I will arise and I will go to my father, and I will say to him, “Father, I have sinned against you, but you are my father still, refuse not to receive your penitent child, forgive me the pain I have caused you, the shame I have brought on your name-father, forgive me!”” With words such as these she threw herself at his feet, and obtained his forgiveness, sealed by his fatherly embrace. Not so with her step-mother; she could not bear the presence of Margaret in the house, and gave her husband no peace till she forced him to send away his repentant child-now a woman of twenty-five-to seek for some other dwelling. When Margaret was turned away from home, she went into the garden not far from the cottage, and there, kneeling beneath a fig tree, she wept bitterly. Some shoots from the tree are still to be seen. God never forsakes the soul that returns to Him, and Margaret was a true penitent. Not all the suggestions and temptations of Satan, with which he now troubled her, could shake her resolve of giving herself wholly to God. A voice bade her go to Cortona and there place herself under the direction of the Friars Minor of St. Francis, and become a Tertiary of the Order. Margaret obeyed the call, weak as she was, and ill able to take so long a journey on foot. She arose and set out, leading her child by the hand. On quitting Laviano, the home of her early days, where she left behind her a loving and much-loved father, Margaret ascended the hill to the crest of the ridge, to take one look at the church tower of Pozzuolo, in which she had been baptized, and then she set out on her way to Cortona.

When she reached the place where she had found the dead body, and whereGod’s grace had touched her heart, she remained awhile to rest and pray. How she thanked God for the mercy He had shown her! Offering once more all her sufferings to Him as a penance for her sins, she fervently renewed the oblation of herself to His service, and earnestly implored grace and courage to keep her resolutions.

A chapel now marks this spot. It is called the Chapel of Repentance. Over the door is a representation of St. Margaret as she knelt there with her child on the ground beside her. By the road side is an old oak, partly decayed, but yet retaining some vigorous branches. The tree may be taken as a symbol of St. Margaret, who, though once dead in sin was now living again by the grace of God, putting forth the fresh green leaves of repentance.

Margaret pressed onwards. Turning her glance away from the Palazzo, near which she passed, she looked to her right and saw the beautiful lake of Thrasimene; but her eyes scarcely noted its beauty. They were directed to Cortona, which, after weary hours of walking, she entered.

Where was she, a total stranger, to go? Who would take pity on her and her child? God’s mercy watched over her. He Who had not forsaken her in her sinful days was now at her side. As she was climbing the steep hill which leads from the gate, she saw two ladies, the Countess Ranieri and the Lady Maineria. They saw and pitied the poor forlorn and weary woman who stood before them, and, perceiving that she was in need of help, offered her assistance. Margaret, encouraged by this kindness, told them briefly the sad story of her life. They were so touched by her confession, that, seeing she was determined to lead a good life, they offered her hospitality in their own house.

The one desire which Margaret had after her conversion was to do the will of God as perfectly as she could. It was therefore in obedience to the Divine Inspiration which she received at Laviano, that after she arrived in Cortona she placed herself under the direction of the Friars Minor.

Fra Giunta was the Father appointed to be her confessor, and it was under his guidance that she reached the height of sanctity at which she afterwards arrived. Margaret’s first act was to purify her soul from sin by confession. In making it, she was so overcome by her emotion and her grief for her sins that it took her eight days to complete her avowal of them.

Even when Margaret had received absolution, she feared that she was unworthy of it, and that such grievous sins as hers should be so speedily forgiven seemed to her hardly credible.

Henceforth she always made her own those words of the Psalm of the penitent David, and with him she cried out: “Have mercy on me, O God, according to Thy great mercy. Wash me yet more from mine iniquity and cleanse me from my sin. Create a clean heart in me, O God, and renew a right spirit within me.”

The gravity of her offences was always present to her mind. She felt what a share her sins had had in the sufferings of her Saviour. When she looked at her crucifix which she had so much loved as a child and which was now still more dear to her, she saw in the wounded Hands the work of her own hands. In gazing at the Sacred Feet she knew they had been pierced with nails because of the wanderings of her own feet in the ways of sin. In beholding the wound of the Side of Jesus she felt that it was her crimes which had plunged the lance into His adorable Heart. In the Crown of Thorns and in the mangled Body she saw the expiation of her guilty pleasures: and so out of love for Jesus Crucified she made His Passion and Death the subject of her constant meditations, and endeavoured day by day to blot out the ill-spent past, and cleanse her heart from all which might prevent her from that close union with God which she so earnestly desired.

Grace had wrought so great a change in the heart of Margaret that while the world considered her to be a Saint she was in her own eyes but a sinner. That heart which before had been inordinately bent on worldly pleasure now aspired to nothing but the joys of heaven. If Margaret had been like Magdalene in her sin, she now imitated her as her model in her conversion, hoping like her to regain innocence by penance, and so share in its reward.

Though Margaret had with deep contrition confessed her sins, she did not feel that she had thereby done enough; she realized that satisfaction was due for them, and so resolved on making the remainder of her life one of penance and of prayer, for she knew well that her satisfaction must bear some proportion to the gravity of her sin.

Her whole life was changed. Instead of the enjoyment of wealth, she was now content with poverty. Mortification of her desires took the place of self-indulgence, and instead of days which she had devoted to worldly pleasure, she now passed her hours in weeping over her sins, and in retirement from the world. Within her heart the love of the Creator now took the place which had been filled by the love of the creature. In the poorly clad woman with her hair close cut, and concealed by a coarse linen cap, those who had seen her in all the splendour of her worldly attire could scarcely believe that they beheld the same person. She went daily to confession and to Holy Communion, and in order to pray undisturbed, she chose a chapel where she would be little noticed, which adjoins the Church of St. Francis. This chapel is now used as the sacristy.

When hearing the word of God, she chose a spot beneath the pulpit where she could neither see nor be seen. Then when her hours of prayer were ended, she would return to her cell, and at Vesper time would again return to the church, in order that she might end the day in the immediate presence of God.

Her life was spent in prayer and mortifications, and in work which was necessary in order to provide that subsistence she required for herself and her child; but even in her work, prayer was not neglected. Intercourse with the world was now however forced upon her, and with an exceeding charity she would assist such poor persons as needed her services, such, for instance, as women in child-birth. But even in these offices of humble duty, she yet maintained great reserve and recollection of mind. She used to retire to pray in some corner of the room when for a time her services were not required. Her food was of the simplest, and when away from home on her errands of mercy, nothing could induce her to break the rule of abstinence that she had imposed upon herself.

The pardon of her sins had in no way diminished the abhorrence she felt for them. So deeply did she even now feel her offence that she would tell those she met, as she passed along the street, of her guilt, and ask them to pray for its perfect remission, expressing to them her desire to know if God had in reality forgiven her, and moving to tears all whom she addressed. And these sins which she made known in public she did penance for in the solitude of her cell. Days of prayer in the church were succeeded by nights of prayer contrite and broken only by her sobs, “the sacrifice of a contrite and humbled heart.”

The brief hours which she allowed for sleep she took lying on boards with a stone for a pillow. What a contrast to the slight penances by which we punish our sins!

But Margaret thought not of herself alone, she felt that by her example she had been the occasion of sins to others, and so her desire now was to repair the scandal she had given that she might at the same time show her love for God and her neighbours. As Montepulciano had been the chief scene of Margaret’s sin, so did she now desire that it should be witness of her repentance. She wished to make such reparation as lay in her power to its inhabitants for the bad example she had given them. She designed to go to that town, clothed in sackcloth, with a rope round her neck, as some atonement for her luxury in dress and for the rich necklace of jewels she had formerly displayed. She even intended that the town-crier should proclaim aloud”Here comes Margaret the sinner!” so earnestly did she wish that in the place where she had been treated with such deference and respect, she should now be overwhelmed by the reproaches which she felt were her due. Her confessor, however, forbade this, and in obedience to him she gave up her design.

Father Giunta, however, permitted Margaret partially to carry out her wish at Laviano, where she had first fallen into sin. It was on a Sunday, when all were assembled for Mass, that Margaret entered the church of that village with her hair close cut and her feet bare, clothed in sackcloth and with a rope round her neck. She knelt where she would be least perceived. No one recognised in the pale and emaciated face of the mysterious pilgrim the Margaret they had formerly known so well. When Mass was concluded, Margaret arose and, throwing herself at the feet of the Lady Manentessa- scarcely able to speak from the sobs which choked her-with sighs and tears of contrition, begged pardon of all the astonished bystanders, imploring them to forget the scandal she had given them, and beseeching them to learn the lesson from her example that the greatest evil in life is sin.

The great desire Margaret had to free herself from all that had ever been an occasion of sin to her, and her fear that her beauty which still remained might yet be an incentive to it, she sought to destroy her comeliness by striking her face with a stone, in order that the livid bruises might disfigure it, and at other times she would cover it with soot, that the fairness of her skin might not be seen.

So far was Margaret from lessening her austerities and mortifications as the years went by, that she increased them both in number and severity up to the very day of her death.

By the kindness of friends, Margaret’s child had been sent to be educated at Arezzo, and she was now left free from the necessity of providing for him, and able to devote herself completely to the service of God, and to that life of retirement which she so much desired. It was Margaret’s wish, in order to lead a more perfect life, to enter the Third Order of St. Francis, the confraternity of penance, that branch of the great Franciscan family which has produced so many saints in the world. Later on, her son also was to join the Seraphic Order in which he became a priest and a noted preacher.

The Friars Minor did not at first accede to Margaret’s wish. It was considered more prudent that a long trial should be given her in order to test the sincerity of her resolve to lead a new life, and it was not till after three years waiting-years borne by Margaret with patience and resignation-that she was at length admitted, in the year 1275, to the privilege of becoming a child of St. Francis. Margaret, once she had been received, wished not only to be a member of it by name and by wearing the habit, but closely to imitate her Seraphic Father. Thus by following his life, by the rigour of her penance and by the fervour of her prayers, she raised herself to so high a degree of contemplation as to become a perfect imitator of the poor man of Assisi. Margaret had a great love and desire for solitude, and in fact cherished it so deeply that she never left her poor dwelling except to seek God in His Church, or to assist the poor whom He had confided to her care. Up to this time Margaret had lived in the Palazzo Moscari, the palace of the ladies who had given her hospitality on her first arrival in Cortona. Though in this house she had but a little cell separated from the other part of the house and its occupants, yet a palace and its neighbourhood to the world did not seem to be a fitting dwelling for one who had become a Tertiary. Margaret therefore sought and obtained from the charity of her benefactresses a poor dwelling in the street beyond the Porta Berarda, where she might live in silence and alone. In order that our Saint might unite herself more closely to God, she wished to free herself from everything that could attach her to the earth; she accordingly discontinued the services which she had been used to render to women in childbirth; she ceased also to be present at baptisms, to which mothers would invite her, in the belief that her presence would bring a blessing on their offspring.

In a short time nothing would be left to Margaret but her solitary cell, in which she might weep for her sins, and the Church of St. Francis, which she frequented to be nearer to God, and to fortify her soul with His word which was preached in it by the Franciscan Fathers. But to reach the church, Margaret had to go out into the street, and she feared even for this short distance to set her foot in the world which had been the cause of her sin. Earnestly did she wish to fly to some solitude to be alone, that she might prepare for the time when God would call her to Himself.

God, Who had destined Margaret to be a means of withdrawing sinners from their sin, and at the same time of purifying herself yet more from her own, did not for some time permit the accomplishment of her desire. As Margaret was prevented from retiring into actual solitude, she endeavoured to form a hermitage in her own heart. On her way through the streets to church, Margaret kept her eyes fixed on the ground, so that she might avoid seeing anyone or anything. She guarded her ears likewise from useless talk, and put a restraint on her tongue, only speaking when the honour of God or the good of her neighbour required her to do so. Margaret seldom opened her door to anyone, and then but for a short time, and for no other purpose than to speak of God. With these rare exceptions, the silence of her cell was unbroken- nothing was heard in it, save during the hours of the night, when it resounded with her lamentations and the strokes of the scourge.

Though there was tranquillity in Margaret’s cell, still she did not find within it that perfect peace for which she sought. A storm was raging within her soul, owing to the intense desire she had to feel assured of the forgiveness of her sins. It was Satan who brought back her former sins to her remembrance and endeavoured to make her despair. He would tempt her with the thought that after all she was still in her sins, that the peace of mind which she had enjoyed was but a woman’s fancy. In this anguish of soul a cold sweat would break out on her, her despairing cries reveal the fear that overwhelmed her. Though she made her fasts yet more strict, her disciplines more frequent, her prayers more prolonged, the disturbed state of her soul often prevented her from approaching Holy Communion, or if she did approach, it was with fear and trembling as if she who had sinned so deeply was unworthy of a love which was the privilege of more faithful souls.

All these trials developed in Margaret new characteristics, for her doubts and fears led her to the feet of her confessor and, purified by the furnace of interior trials, the last remnants of earthly miseries were burnt out, and the contrite penitent became the future saint.

Margaret, like other servants of God, was raised to a height of sanctity to be an example to us. We see in her a singular love of the poor whom she tended in their needs, often saving for them what was necessary for her own sustenance. Nor did she relieve their bodily wants only, but she took the deepest interest in their sorrows and in the welfare of their souls.

St. Margaret teaches us in this our day that there is no other way to solve our social difficulties than to take a Christian’s view of poverty and of wealth. If there were more who, like Margaret, would make themselves instruments in God’s hands to teach the poor to be contented with their lot, and the rich that this world is not our Heaven, then mutual misunderstanding would cease, and the two classes who now look coldly on one another would be united by that love which is bred by charity.

She had known what it was to be in affliction; the heart of Margaret was able to be a help to others. As she had been a sinner, so she was able to lead back those who had wandered from the right path; she became a true comforter of the afflicted.

The life of St. Margaret was not only one of edification for all those who lived in Cortona, but for all who read of it in the “Leggenda,” written by her confessor, Fra Giunta, how God drew her more and more to Himself, and how our Saint in turn corresponded withthe graces which He conferred upon her. In this biography are to be read God’s dealings with the soul of Margaret, favours she would willingly have concealed, had she not been enjoined by her confessor to make them known. They give us courage to follow the footsteps of her who blotted out her sin by the fervour of her penance. They show, too, how great was Margaret’s charity towards her neighbour, whose spiritual maladies she was instrumental in healing. Still, amidst all the gratitude and praise for the good she effected, she kept the humility of a penitent, considering herself to be still a sinner.

Prayer was a necessity to our Saint, and in her prayer she embraced the Church triumphant, militant, and suffering, so that her charity was as universal as her faith. She not only prayed to the Saints; she always endeavoured to imitate their virtues. The holy souls suffering in purgatory, were objects of Margaret’s special zeal and love, and at her last hour those holy souls that she had been instrumental in freeing from Purgatory, came to lead her soul to heaven. Amongst the living, too, all who needed help, shared in the benefit of her Prayers, and many experienced the effect of her powerful intercession. To God alone is known the result of such never failing charity.

Though but a frail woman, Margaret had an influence on her age. Her virtues were an edification to all. To the turbulence of the time Margaret opposed her gentleness. To the licentiousness of the age, she gave an example of austerity of life. To the troubled in body and mind she gave consolation, and, like our Lord Himself, she went about doing good. As a penitent, few were like her, and she sanctified herself in a period which appeared so unfavourable to sanctity. She taught all how much, with the help of Divine Grace, a strong will and a firm purpose can accomplish.

Poor and humble as Margaret’s life was, she yet left to posterity two valuable works, the first a form of community life in the Third Order for those who wished to live retired fromthe world. They took the name of “Poverelle”-Poor Little Ones-from the name by which Our Lord had called Margaret when speaking to her in the Church of St. Francis and this institute existed almost till our own day. The other work that Cortona owes to Margaret was a hospital which still goes by the name she gave it, of Our Lady of Mercy-Sta. Maria della Misericordia.

Through all this active life spent for the good of others, Margaret never allowed herself to relax the severity of her penances or the austerity of her life, and these years of penitential exercises wonderfully endeared her to our Lord.

At last, our Saint, who had long desired greater solitude that she might give herself more completely to God, retired to a desert place on the hill above Cortona. Here the last nine years of her life continued to be spent in penance and in prayer.

As Margaret’s earthly career drew to its close, she sighed more than ever after that Heaven where she longed to be, nor was our Lord, on His part, less desirous to receive His faithful penitent and loving child into His eternal embrace, to place her, as He had said, in the choir of virgins, to sing for ever the praises of Him, Who had drawn her from the depths of sin to make her a signal example of His never-failing mercy to the penitent sinner.

Margaret, who had been told by God that the appointed hour for her departure from the world would not be long delayed, received with a great joy the welcome tidings that now at length the day was at hand. During the last days of her life, Margaret’s only food was the Blessed Eucharist.

At the announcement that Margaret’s end was approaching, all Cortona was filled with grief. Many went up to the little Church of St. Basil, close to which was her poor dwelling, to see the dying Saint, and to gather from her lips some words of edification.

Margaret received with joy those whom she had loved so well and served so tenderly, but her thoughts were absorbed with God, and she sought not to prolong farewells which would prevent the intercourse of her soul with her Creator.

The morning of the 22nd of February dawned, and the soul of Margaret passed into the unveiled Presence of God to receive the reward which she had so earnestly striven by her life of penance to gain.

In the days of her vanity, when one of her companions reproached her for her conduct, Margaret had replied, “Never fear, the day will come when I shall be called a saint; yes, I shall be a saint, and pilgrims will come to my shrine.” This, which we may call a prophecy, is now literally fulfilled.

From Cortona and the neighbouring villages, crowds come to venerate “Santa Margherita” on the day of her feast, the 22nd February, as also on that of the translation of her relics, the Sunday within the Octave of the Ascension. Before ascending the hill to the church in which the body of St. Margaret lies, the pilgrim, if he be a stranger to Cortona, will stay a moment in the Piazza at the foot of the hill, to gaze on the beautiful vale of the Chiano which stretches out before him. On the lower slopes of a mountain range which bounds the view, he will see the towers and domes of Montepulciano, where part of St. Margaret’s life was spent. Under the peak of Monte Citone, but at some distance from it, one acquainted with this country can distinguish the little hill on which Laviano, St. Margaret’s birth-place, stands. As she went on her errands of mercy in Cortona, our Saint would have had these two spots frequently in view, and so might say with David, “My sin is always before me.”

To the left are the blue waters of the beautiful Lake of Thrasimene. Turning his back reluctantly on such a scene of beauty, the pilgrim ascends the hill to the church of Santa Margherita. As he stands on the level ground in front of the church, he reads the words: “Penitenti Margheritæ.”

The pilgrim enters and takes a hasty glance around, for he is impatient to approach the High Altar to venerate the Saint whose body rests above it. It is a modern church, devotional in character. St. Francis and other Saints look down from their brackets between the arches. In the right hand transept is the statue of St. Margaret, and over the altar in the same transept is a wooden crucifix, somewhat rude in execution, but of the greatest interest, for this is the crucifix that in the church of San Francesco spoke to St. Margaret. Pausing for a moment before the High Altar, the pilgrim sees a sarcophagus which rests against the wall of the chapel of the Blessed Sacrament. It is the work of the great sculptor, Giovanni Pisano. In this sarcophagus the venerated body of St. Margaret once lay. A marble tablet on a pillar near the chapel tells the pilgrim that on this spot was the humble room where Margaret spent nine years in penance and in prayer, and that here on the 22nd February, in the year 1297, as a victim of penance, she died and went to enjoy the Beatific Vision, having by common accord been given the title of Saint. The pilgrim now kneels before the High Altar, and there he sees in the rich metal shrine the incorrupt body of St. Margaret, the object of his pilgrimage.

A Franciscan father, to a pilgrim like himself, remarks that the body of St. Aloysius, whose life was spotless, has followed the ordinary course of nature, whilst the body of Margaret, once a sinner, has nevertheless been preserved. And does not this, he went on to say, show God’s love for the penitent and for that innocence which has been regained by penance?

The body lies with the head to the left, a white cap or veil covers the head, a dress of flannel, marked with squares formed by dark lines, covers the body. The hands, which are small, are crossed on the breast, and the feet are bare. The nails of the hands are perfect, but of the colour of an acorn that has fallen ripe from the tree in autumn time. The skin, of a greyish colour like the parchment covering of a book, is tightly drawn over the bones of the face. The sockets of the eyes are deeply sunk-the eyelashes wanting, the lips compressed. The whole aspect is that of peace, and the pilgrim feels as if he could gaze for long hours on this countenance which so rivets his attention. It has been said that an odour of sweetness comes from the venerated body, and that the mark of the stone with which Margaret struck her face to disfigure its beauty is yet to be seen upon it.

On the eve of the Feast, the canons from the Cathedral of Cortona walk in procession from the Cathedral, clad in copes, preceded by a cross-bearer, with ecclesiastics in surplices, to venerate the body. They kneel around the altar and sing a hymn to St. Margaret with its versicle, response and prayer, “O Margarita pœnitens,” &c., and the prayer ended, they return back as they came to the town.

The pilgrim goes down to the town and, as he does so, visits the Church of St. Francis, where St. Margaret was wont to pray before an altar, when the crucifix, now transferred to her own church, spoke to her, addressing her as “Poverella,” and asking her what she wished for. In passing through the streets he sees how the people of Cortona venerate “Santa Margherita.” There is her statue on the Piazza of the Cathedral, and at no great distance a picture of the Saint before which several lamps are lighted to honour the saint whom they so deeply love.

On the feast itself, the pilgrims from Laviano, the birthplace of St. Margaret, ascend the hill to the church to venerate the body of their countrywoman, and as they come near, they sing a pen tial hymn. They have started in the early morning and walked the miles that separate Laviano from Cortona, and arrive in time for the High Mass. After the procession has entered the church, which already full, is now packed with a dense crowd, the pilgrims come up to the altar. They are headed by a picture of the Saint borne by a woman from the village. Then comes the crucifix with lamps on either side, and the processional cross, and after it the villagers and girls complete the procession which passes several times round the High Altar, above which is exposed the body of the Saint, and as they do so, they sing hymns in plaintive notes. So crowded is the church now, that even the choir of the Friars, which is behind the altar, is filled with people, who, eager to see their Saint, find it difficult or impossible to find room elsewhere. Those in the church crowd up, clustering like a swarm of bees round the altar.

But evening has come, and the officers of the municipality arrive to close in the shrine; for the body of St. Margaret is under their custody. First, however, the Father Guardian enters the church, vested in a cope. He kneels with his attendants before the Altar, over which hangs St. Margaret’s crucifix, the very one that had spoken to the Saint. After a few prayers have been said, and a curtain drawn before the crucifix, he passes on to the High Altar, where a hymn is sung and some prayers recited. When these are ended, the Guardian rises, turns to the people and says, “Let us devoutly recite a Pater, Ave, and Gloria in honour of St. Margaret, that she may obtain for us a good and holy death.” The prayer over, the Guardian has mounted the Altar, and wipes with a cloth the glass which closes in the shrine. He then draws a curtain before it, and St. Margaret’s body is lost to sight, but not to the love and veneration of the pilgrim.

When the Father and his assistants have retired, the members of the municipality now come forward. Two, with lighted candles, kneel at the side of the altar, whilst other two close the shrine with a massive iron bound board, which they lock in three places. They then place before it an antependium, on which is a representation of the Saint’s body as it lies in the tomb. This too is locked, the candles are extinguished, and the feast is over for that year.

May the love of St. Margaret of Cortona be to us and to all poor sinners, a pledge of God’s goodness and infinite pity!

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Saint Martin of Tours

BY D. G. M. JACKAON

INDEX

WHEN the parish priest of Macleod, in the Archdiocese of Melbourne decided to dedicate his newly-built Churchschool in honour of Saint Martin of Tours, there were few Catholics in that suburb, or even in Victoria; who realized that he was reviving the memory of a saint whose name stands at the very beginning of the Faith in the English-speaking world. For, even before St. Augustine was first sent by Pope Gregory to preach Christianity to the pagan King Ethelbert of Kent, his Frankish Catholic wife, Queen Bertha, had had an old British Christian Church in Canterbury repaired, in which his chaplain, Liudhard, sang Mass for her and her ladies. That Church was dedicated to Saint Martin of Tours. His name was already mighty as a wonder-worker among the Gauls, and had reached the British Christian world, too, in the last days of its Kings” valiant struggle before they went down before the Saxons and the light of Christ was extinguished for a space in the lands east of Wales and Cambria.

Of the fame of St. Martin” s great medieval shrine in France I shall have a word to say later; but his cult extended throughout Western Christendom, and a myriad churches were dedicated to him; while his name was one of the most frequently given to Christian children at their baptism. Who, then, was this hero of the Faith, whose name and wondrous deeds have inspired so much devotion, from the time of his death-over fifteen hundred years ago-even to our own time?

EARLY YEARS -PAVIA AND THE ARMY

Martin was born in the year A.D. 316 or thereabouts, at a turning point in the history of Christianity in the Roman Empire. Constantine and Licinius, the Emperors, had just proclaimed the peace of the Church after the last and most terrible of her persecutions, that of Diocletian. Everywhere the Faith was emerging from the Catacombs, and Christian influence was now dominant in the court of the new ruler of the West, who was soon to overthrow his pagan partner, Licinius, and to set up a new Imperial capital on the Bosphorus-Constantinople, the first Christian city in the world.

The birthplace of the saint was not Gaul, which was to be the chief field of his apostolate, but “Pannonia”- a region embracing the modern Yugoslavia and part of Hungary. He first saw the light somewhere in the vicinity of the modern town of Szombathely, in Hungary-perhaps to the east of it, in the shadow of the mountains still named “Martinsberg.” Was Martin a Slav? The question of race is not important in his case any more than in that of St. Patrick. What is certain is that both were “Roman” in citizenship and Latin in culture and language. His father was a tribune-a commissioned officer of the Roman army-and both parents were pagan, though he succeeded later in converting his mother.

It was at Pavia, in Italy, where the boy Martin went to school, that he first came into contact with Christians and became a catechumen, in circumstances of which we know nothing. Already, at twelve years of age, he began to dream of dedicating his life to God and of the vocation of a hermit-monk, which had then immense prestige in the Christian community. But it was not easy to escape from the normal obligation of an officer’s son, who was expected to become a soldier like his father; and when he was about sixteen, in the year 332, the Emperor Constantine was in sore need of recruits for the war he was waging against the Goths. An edict lowered the age of enlistment and young Martin entered upon his military training-though, under his uniform, there still beat the heart of a monk. At nineteen he was a fullyfledged officer, with a batman whom he looked after devotedly, but of whose services he was very reluctant to avail himself.

THE CATECHUMEN’S CLOAK

It was at this period that there occurred the incident that was destined to become most famous in legend and in Christian art. In the winter of 338–9-a severe one-he was stationed at Amiens in Gaul. Riding through the gates of the city, wrapped in the woollen tunic of his rank, he saw a beggar, almost naked and shivering under the icy blast. Pulling up, he tore off his cloak, and, drawing his short sword, divided it in half, flinging one portion to the man. Thereafter, he was exposed not merely to the cold but to the mockery of his companions, who already, no doubt, regarded the young man as a weird eccentric for his austerities and lack of military pride. But that night-so the story runs-Christ Himself appeared to the young man, surrounded by angels; and the Lord was dressed in the half of Martin’s cloak-in accordance with His own word:”In as much as you have done it to the least of these, you have done it to Me.” He heard Him speak to his heavenly audience, saying:”Martin-who is only a catechumen-has clothed Me in this mantle”; and he was not slow to take the hint conveyed in these words of praise and to seek baptism as soon as possible.

MARTIN LEAVES THE ARMY

Thereafter, he was more than ever bent on fulfilling his vocation to the service of God-but the difficulty of leaving the Emperor’s army still seemed overwhelmingly great. Constantine was engaged in a campaign against the Germans and proposed to give them battle near Worms-to become famous in the story of another Martin, the heresiarch Luther, who broke the unity of Christendom some twelve hundred years later. The young officer was among those appointed to lead the attack against the enemy; but he resolved to make a stand, and flatly refused either to accept a largesse distributed to the troops or to bear arms in the coming conflict. He explained his resolve to dedicate his life to God, but the Emperor treated the excuse with contempt. “It is fear of tomorrow’s battle,” he declared, “not love of the religious life, which is leading you to this act of desertion.”

Martin was nettled at the charge of cowardice (he was to show himself the bravest of the brave through all the vicissitudes and perils of a varied life). He offered to go into battle without helmet or armour, “guarded only by the Cross”-that sign in whose name the Emperor himself had been promised victory in his vision years ago. The next day he prepared to carry out the intention-which seemed to promise certain death-but, to the general astonishment, the enemy retreated without a fight. After this Constantine released Martin from his commission and allowed him to do as he wished.

ST. MARTIN AND ST. HILARY

He went to Treves, one of the great Roman frontier centres of the Rhineland, and there placed himself under the patronage of the Bishop Maximin, in whose company he made a pilgrimage to Rome, already famous as the City of the Apostles SS. Peter and Paul and of many martyrs, though its political importance was in decay. It was, perhaps, through the Bishop, who came from Poitou, that he made the first contact with the great St. Hilary of Poitiers, who was to become his guide in learning as well as holiness.

The Roman journey seems to have occurred between 347 and 350. Some five years later Martin left the Bishop, being warned in a dream to go on a visit to his parents, who had returned to Pannonia. It was while on the way there, in a region which was already becoming unsafe for travel after repeated devastation in war with the barbarians, that he was accosted by a band of robbers, from whom he escaped by miracle, while-according to the legend-the Devil appeared and declared that he intended to follow him through all his travels. At home he had the happiness of bringing his mother to the Faith-but his soldier father refused to abandon his pagan tradition.

The Church was already in the throes of the Arian conflict. The old Emperor Constantine had favoured the cause of Arius in his last years, after having called the General Council of Nicaea, which condemned his heresy-a denial of the full Godhead of Jesus Christ; and of his three sons, the last survivor, Constantine II, was a fierce and persecuting Arian. Among others, he drove the great orthodox western leader, Bishop Hilary, into exile in the East-an exile which was to be fraught with notable consequences. For it was in the East that the Saint came into close contact with the flourishing monasticism of Syria and Egypt. Already, it seems, his friend Martin had engaged in a pioneer venture as a monastic founder in Milan, the political centre of the Western Empire, but when he rejoined St. Hilary on his return to Poitiers (360) the two of them launched a new monastic movement which was to have revolutionary consequences in the history of Christianity in the West, where it was still far less widely spread than in the Eastern provinces, the countryside and lesser centres being almost entirely untouched hitherto.

THE FIRST WESTERN MONASTERY

Close to Poitiers, on the shores of the Clain River, Martin found the solitude which he had always desired, after a long stay with St. Hilary as his spiritual guide. But he was soon surrounded, at Ligugè, by disciples inspired by his example and there he established the first Western Monastic Community-a group of huts, one for each monk, surrounding a church in which they met for Mass and other spiritual exercises held in common. There was, at first, no Rule, except mutual good example and spiritual obedience to the superior, and contemplation and prayer were combined with apostolic work among the pagan peasantry.

Soon Martin became known not merely as a preacher but as a “wonder -worker.” There is a tradition-preserved in the Church office of the feast-that he not merely headed the Sica, but raised three dead persons to life, and two of these supreme miracles were done at Ligugè. It was while here, too, that he was ordained priest by his friend, St. Hilary.

BISHOP OF TOURS

A further promotion awaited Martin, for in the neighbouring city of Tours his name and power were already famous and, when the Bishop died, the Christians there sought him as his successor. Knowing, however, that his humility would make their task very difficult, they decided to bring him into their midst by a stratagem. A certain Rusticus was sent to seek the Saint’s aid in healing a woman who was ill and he hastened to respond in his usual warmhearted way. Arrived at Tours, however, he found the whole population gathered at the Cathedral, with several of the neighbouring Bishops, and he was hailed as Bishop with great acclamation, after the fashion of the time. Some of the prelates, to be sure, had been doubtful about the choice of this eccentric, rustic-looking man of God, but they yielded to the popular voice and in July, 371, Martin was consecrated as Bishop of the city which was to be henceforth inseparably linked with his name and fame.

With the triumph of Christianity in the Empire, the Bishops had become official personages of tremendous importance in its life, which was still centred in its municipal institutions. As the older magistrates fell into decay and the former civic ruling class became bankrupt, the Episcopal authority became all important for defence and administration, as well as for the relief of the poor and those oppressed by bureaucratic tyranny and corruption.

But, while Martin had accepted his consecration as the will of God, he had no intention of becoming a magnificent sacred official, surrounded by an array of lesser officials and a court of clients and hangers-on. He dressed in the coarse drugget of a monk, just as he had before; he continued to live in rigorous austerity and to sleep on the ground; and he did not allow his civic responsibilities to diminish his missionary activities and journeys in the surrounding countryside.

MARMOUTIER AND THE APOSTOLATE

To begin with, the Bishop lived in a small hut near the Cathedral, which his successor, St. Gregory of Tours, was to convert into a chapel. Then, finding that the city crowds encroached too much upon his prayer and contemplation, he founded a new monastic settlement higher up the Loire, where some eighty of his disciples came to join him. This was the beginning of the “Majus Monasterium,” Marmoutier, whose rule of prayer, labour and learning was later to serve as a model to St. Benedict in the founding of his own order. Marmoutier was, from the first, a school and seminary as well as a monastic community. Young children were admitted there-among them Saint Brice, who received lessons from Saint Martin himself from his infancy, though, to begin with, he took small profit from them. Young men of distinguished birth bent themselves to austere living under their BishopAbbot’s guidance and cities throughout Gaul sought his monks to rule them as Bishops because of their reputation for erudition and holiness.

Martin did not neglect his work as a bishop while devoting himself to the growth and guidance of Marmoutier and he continued to travel widely through his diocese, and beyond it also, in order to spread the faith in the country regions, which were still entirely pagan. It is impossible to follow the details of his wide wanderings, but traces of them can be found in the long memories of the peasants and in the traditional cultures of St. Martin and the sanctuaries consecrated to his honour to be found in the east, north and centre of what was then Roman Gaul, as well as in Aquitaine and the Rhône Valley. How many of these regions he himself visited, and how many owe their legendary veneration of him to the agelong passage of pilgrims, or to the devotion of his disciples, it is not possible now to discover.

It is clear, however, that the multiplication of the French rural parishes is due largely to his work. When the inhabitants of a village had been Christianized, he made a point of setting up a centre of worship, with a college of priests and lesser clerics attached to it (a certain number of parishes in the Touraine area certainly owe their origin directly to St. Martin). And, like a good shepherd, he made a point of visiting these new “sheepfolds” regularly, making continual journeys around his diocese for that purpose, as well as to open up new fields of apostolic activity. He journeyed to and fro without anything in the nature of pomp-in a cart or on foot, or mounted on a donkey, together with a group of disciples. He commonly refused the hospitality ofthe great houses, whether in the country or the town, “bedding down” on straw in the sacristy of the Church.

LEGENDS OF THE WONDER WORKER

Some legendary anecdotes of the missionary journeys of St. Martin have become so popular in France that they deserve to be recounted-if only to show his reputation as a man of wonderful works. At the place called St. Barthèlemy, near Tours, he is said to have “debunked” a pretended martyr whose tomb had become the object of misguided local veneration. Having recourse to God to solve his doubt about the personage, he had the vision of a “horrible spectre” who declared that he was, indeed, no martyr, but a ruffian who had met with the richly deserved punishment of his crimes. St. Martin immediately had the altar over the tomb pulled down and the false cult came to an abrupt end.

Close to Autun there was a ruined pagan temple, beside which grew a magnificent pine-tree which was the object of idolatrous veneration throughout the neighbourhood. The people were unwilling to have it touched, but when they saw that St. Martin was resolved to get rid of it they challenged him to stand under it while they cut it down. The Bishop agreed and allowed himself to be fastened to the side towards which the sacred tree was leaning while they hacked at the huge trunk with their axes. A cracking was heard, but, as the tree began to fall upon him, St. Martin made a great Sign of the Cross; whereupon it swung over to the opposite side-to the shocked dismay and admiration of the peasants!

At Levroux, according to the local legend, angelic aid was given to the Saint in answer to his prayer, when the inhabitants refused to allow the destruction of a splendid temple which was their pride. Suddenly two mighty beings made their appearance, armed with shield and lance, and set about the demolition of the shrine with astounding rapidity. The people, seeing that their gods were incapable of resisting the supernatural raid, rallied immediately to the God of St. Martin!

But the greater number of miracles a ttributed to the holy Bishop are not “signs and wonders” of this spectacular kind, but the same kind of works of healing which His Divine Master had performed during His earthly life in Palestine. We hear of how in Paris he cured a leper by his loving embrace; of a dumb girl in Chartres restored to speech by a drop of holy oil on her mouth. And at Chartres, also, they speak of the third of his wonders of resuscitation-that of a young man dead whom he gave back to his mother, even as Christ had done long ago at Naim.

On occasions, as we learn, God showed forth the glory of His faithful servant in a visible way. One day when he was saying Mass in his Cathedral, some of those present saw his arms gleaming with precious jewels. But, if few were favoured with these mysterious visions, no one who came in contact with him could escape the force of spiritual strength which emanated from the man of God.

THE PRISCILLIAN CONTROVERSY

While ministering tirelessly to the poor and relieving their miseries-increasingly great in a world which was already descending into the darkness of a new barbarian age-Martin was fearlessly independent in his dealings with the great ones of the Empire. It is told of him that once, when he came to make a petition to the Emperor Valentinian, he was refused admission-thanks to the intrigues of the Arian Empress Justina. After a period of prayer and fasting Saint Martin at last literally forced his way into the presence of Valentinian, who refused the Bishop the customary courtesy of rising to greet him-until he suddenly saw that his throne had caught fire. After that, it seems, his majesty jumped up quickly and granted Martin’s demand without further ado!

A feature of St. Martin which is calculated to commend him to moderns is his vigorous rejection of the idea of repressing heresy by the force of the State. This practice- which grew out of the pagan conception of the Emperor as “High Priest” and supreme regulator of religious worship-had already begun to appear in the Cbristianized Empire of his time and it was helped by the disorders which frequently arose in connection with religious controversy, especially in Africa and the East. One particular error which concerned St. Martin’s part of his world was that of the Priscillianists. Priscillian, a cleric of the Spanish Church, was an aristocrat famous for his eloquence and asceticism and was the leader of a movement of lay piety and charity which “caught on” very rapidly south of the Pyrènèes, since he had a genius for successful propaganda. Unfortunately his personal authority over his followers soon went to his head, while his ascetical teachings were derived very largely from Apocryphal gospels of Gnostic inspiration and were tinged with the rampant Manichaeism for which St. Augustine had fallen in his youth. He began to be no longer the director of a lay movement but the head of a new sect with strange doctrines and practices, especially regarding the Holy Eucharist and the place of women in Church.

A number of Priscillianist practices were condemned in a Spanish Council at Avila, after consultation with Pope Damasus V in Rome, but this did not prevent the glamorous leader from getting himself elected as Bishop of the very city where the Council had been held. He proceeded to take the offensive against his opponents, while the imperial authority in Milan vacillated under the powerful influence of his friends at Court and the opposing influence of the great St. Ambrose. Eventually Milan came down in his favour, though his orthodox opponents found support among the Bishops and high officials of Gaul, especially at Treves, the seat of the praetorian prefecture under which Spain was comprised.

ST. MARTIN BEARDS AN EMPEROR

At this point the political situation was suddenly changed by the usurpation of Maximus (383), the commander in Britain. The new Emperor was acknowledged in Gaul and Spain, as well as Britain, and took over control in Treves, which became his capital. The Bishop there, Ithacus, had little to recommend him but his orthodoxy, from the point of view of St. Martin; he was worldly and loose-living, as well as ambitious. He soon gained the ear of Maximus, however, who ordered the arrest of Priscillian and one of his colleagues, Instantius, and at their trial by an episcopal council at Bordeaux Priscillian promptly appealed to the Emperor for a personal hearing of his case-while Ithacus and his supporters demanded his execution and the forcible repression of his followers by the State.

At this point St. Martin appeared at Treves with the force of a spiritual tornado. He told the Emperor Maximus, without making any bones about it, that he was a usurper and, when he was invited to the Imperial table, asserted the dignity of the Church by handing the cup offered to him by the Sovereign to the priest accompanying him, after merely touching it with his lips-instead of handing it back in accordance with courtly custom. The tyrant was impressed-perhaps even somewhat intimidated-by this uncompromising Christian Elias! In any case, he promised that no sanguinary measures should be taken against the recalcitrant Priscillian or his followers. Unhappily this was not the end of the matter. Once the Saint had left Treves for his home, Ithacus soon recovered his influence and, in his fervour against asceticism and ascetic, the Bishop did not hesitate to denounce Martin himself as a Manichaee! As for Priscillian, he was tried for sorcery, supposed immoral orgies, as well as for obscene doctrines, as the result of an enquiry by the prefect, and put to death along with six of his adherents.

THE END OF A TRAGIC AFFAIR

St. Martin was not impressed by the pretence that the condemnations had been for sorcery, which was a capital offence. He broke off all relations with Ithacus and those involved in the sinister business and protested violently that the sentences were iniquitous. Eventually, after he had returned to Treves, he consented to be reconciled with the “Ithacians” on condition that the persecution begun in Spain should be stopped at once. Finally, Pope Siricius, hearing of the proceedings from Maximus, excommunicated Ithacus and his followers, and St. Ambrose, of Milan, when he came to Treves, refused to have any dealings with Bishops who had “sent heretics to their death.” To the end of life St. Martin regretted his own “appeasement” of the evil Bishop of Treves at the last, though it was due solely to his desire to end the shedding of Christian blood. The worst of it was that Maximus did not keep his promise and the persecution in Spain raged until he himself was slain and the lawful Emperor of Milan restored.

The result was to add to the prestige of the dead Priscillian-now revered as a martyr by his followers-while the contest raged on until it was eventually submerged, in 406, by the great flood of barbarian invasion of the West.

THE DEATH OF ST. MARTIN

Despite the tremendous energy of his apostolic labours and the ruthless asceticism of his way of life, Saint Martin lived to the age of eighty-two before making his last journey-to Candes, at the confluence of the Vienne and the Loire. His task there was to re-establish peace between the local community of priests, which was rent with bitter disputes. After doing so, the veteran Bishop felt at last the approach of death; his body was exhausted, though his ardent spirit remained indefatigable. He made one final prayer of perfect submission to the God Whose service his valiant life had been dedicated. “I have already made a long fight,” declared the soldier of Christ, “but, if Thou commandest that I should remain still in the ranks and endure this labour, I will submit, saying naught of either age or weariness. Yet, if Thou have pity upon my age, Thy will is no less agreeable to me, O my God! For then Thou Thyself wilt care for those for whose sake I tremble.”

So saying, he breathed his last and, we are told, as the Angels bore his soul to heaven, the harmonies of a Divine music were heard by those around.

News of Saint Martin’s death spread rapidly from Candes through the whole region and men from Tours and Poitiers made a rush to the place to possess themselves of his precious remains, which were claimed by both places. Those of Tours won the race and brought the body in a barge down the Vienne to the Loire and thence, singing hymns of triumph, to their city.

THE SHRINE OF ST. MARTIN AT TOURS

But the death of Saint Martin was only the beginning of a glorious posthumous history of his cultures and sacred influence throughout Western Christendom. His shrine at Tours quickly became a centre of devotion, drawing pilgrims from the whole world of Gaul and beyond; and, after the eclipse of the Roman Empire of the West, the cult of St. Martin was intimately linked with the new Christian Frankish Monarchy and the beginnings of France. The wonders wrought at the Saint’s intercession are said to have decided the issue, for the Great Clovis, between Arianism and Catholic orthodoxy-a decision of major significance in the history of Europe. A succession of Kings-Meroving, Caroling and Capetian-came to worship there through the Middle Ages, and no less than four Popes. One of these, Alexander III, who had taken refuge in France during the occupation of Rome by an anti-Pope, was actually crowned at Tours and sang a Solemn Mass at the chief altar of the Abbey after the ceremony in the year 1163. The religious community-eventually transformed into a College of Canons-was at one time presided over by the eminent Englishman Alcuin, the beloved friend of Charlemagne and one of the greatest schoolmasters in history. Around the great basilica of Tours a galaxy of monastic houses and lesser sanctuaries was built, subject to the suzerainty of the chapter-which, incidentally, enjoyed the right of minting “St. Martin’s money” up to the fourteenth century.

Among the Kings of the later Middle Ages, Charles VII, restored by the efforts of St. Joan of Arc, and his son, Louis XI, were distinguished for their devotion to St. Martin’s shrine. It was pillaged by the Protestant bands of the Prince de Condè during the religious wars of the sixteenth century, when the sacred relics of St. Martin and those of St. Brice were burnt-only a few fragments being preserved by a priest named Saugeron. The shrine, however, entered upon a new period of splendour after the conversion of the Calvinist King Henry IV ended the civil strife. The King was received as a lay canon of the chapter at Tours in 1598, after the fashion of a long line of his predecessors, and his example was imitated by his successors, Louis XIII and the great Louis XIV, who paid his solemn visit in 1650.

RUIN AND RESTORATION

After 1789 the revolutionaries imitated the Protestants in raiding the sanctuary-many of its treasures being melted down, though the precious relics of the Saint still surviving were preserved through the Terror, until they could be once again be exposed to the veneration of the faithful after the Concordat of Napoleon Bonaparte with Pope Pius VII. During the darkest time of the First Republic, part of the sanctuary was transformed into a stable for the army horses, the lead from the roofs was melted down, and eventually the whole structure of the ancient basilica was demolished.

The work of its restoration, in the nineteenth century, was due to the zeal of one M. Dupont, from Martinique, in the West Indies, who came to be known as “the Holy Man of Tours,” and of a little group of Catholics, including the engineer Stanislas Retal, who was also an archaeologist of considerable ability. In 1854 they began the “Work of St. Martin,” enlisting the support of the Archbishop of Tours. The ravaged tomb was rediscovered and a new provisional oratory erected, which was blessed by Archbishop Guibert in 1863, in the presence of eight bishops and an enormous crowd. Once again pilgrims began to come to Tours to pay their homage to St. Martin, the ancient glory of the Gauls. The revival was imperilled in the eighties by the ill will of the Republican civil authorities and the municipality. It was impossible to restore the great Church of the thirteenth century; but, thanks to the subscriptions received from all over France, a new Romanesque basilica was set up, designed by the young architect Laloux, which at present holds the remains of the saint. His statue, blessing the city, crowns its dome, while the windows are devoted to great events in the “St. Martin story” and the subsequent history of the cultures and shrine of the wonder-worker-a history which reflects, in its vicissitudes, the fortunes of the Faith which he preached in the Gallic land, from the fourth century to our own day.

The harmonious lines of the cupola which covers the sacred tomb stand out against the bright sky of Touraine, between the two towers, witnesses of past glories; and thence, as from a throne, the holy Bishop stretches out his hand to bless his faithful city and the many pilgrims of the present age who come to visit his shrine.

(CONCLUSION)

We may fitly close this short account of the life and works of the glorious Saint Martin with the prayer uttered by the

Church at the Mass of his feast, which is on November 11:

“O God, Who seest that we put no reliance on our own strength, grant us this boon: that, by the intercession of Thy blessed confessor, Bishop Martin, we may be fortified against all harm; through our Lord Jesus Christ Thy Son, who is

God, living and reigning with Thee, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, for ever and ever. Amen.”

Nihil Obstat:

Percy Jones,

Censor Diocesan.

Imprimatur: @ D. Mannix,

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis.

********

Saint Mary Euphrasia Pelletier

INDEX

THE FOUNDRESS OF THE SISTERS OF THE GOOD SHEPHERD

THERE was an enigmatic smile on Sister Marie’s face as she watched the children at play. Standing a little apart from the noisy group she fingered the large Rosary beads which hung by her side and with eyes narrowed somewhat quizzically she watched her young charges-or, to put it more correctly, she watched one of them. The girl singled out for this special attention was wholly unconscious of it for she was completely absorbed in the game, of which she seemed to be at once the life, centre and originator. She was a slight, agile girl not yet in her teens, with a wealth of black hair, flashing dark eyes and a tanned complexion beneath the momentary flush of excitement. Racing here, there, everywhere; talking, gesticulating and marshalling her companions, all at the same time, she seemed a very dynamo of energy. Now she dashed across the playground passing close by her mistress. The latter suddenly stopped her and said: “Rose Virginia, one day you will be either an angel or a devil.” The words were spoken solemnly with a hint of fear in the nun’s voice. No doubt she envisaged the life of this gifted child as a precipitous and tortuous route, beset with snares and pitfalls; and the girl’s own energetic and wilful nature capable of landing her on perilous ground; but the dark, luminous eyes of Rose Virginia saw none of these things, so she smiled serenely up at her teacher and replied: “I-but I’m going to be a nun.” For Rose Virginia life had no complications-one came from God and one went to God-it was as simple as that and already her small feet were firmly set on that direct though arduous route. This, thanks to her saintly mother.

Madame Pelletier lived the Gospel precepts, so that long before Rose had learnt in her catechism that great commandment which is the condition of our entering into life, she saw her mother practise it, when as a child lying in her cot, not fully awake in the early dawn, she could see her mother kneeling motionless, rapt in prayer-or when a few years later she accompanied her to some remote barn where the Sacrifice of the Mass was offered at the risk of the lives of all present. (For it was the epoch of the French Revolution and Rose Virginia Pelletier was a little French girl, living in the island of Noirmoutier, off the coasts of France.) And that other commandment which is like unto the first-she learnt it when she toddled by her mother’s side on errands of charity to the homes of the poor. Madame Pelletier would enter one of these houses where the mother lay ill and the children were hungry and unkempt. While enquiring after the health of the sufferer she would push open a window to admit God’s air and sunshine. Then would follow the question-a very echo of Christ’s own-”Have you anything to eat?” and at the negative reply the ribboned bonnet would be removed, the rich cloak laid aside, and there was Madame Pelletier reviving the ashes on the hearth. The children, dirty-faced, hanging shyly around the door, would come forward to help and soon there would be hot soup for everyone. After that the room would be tidied up, children’s clothes seen to and a hundred other “little nameless, unremembered acts of kindness and of love” performed. No wonder that the workmen of the countryside would exclaim: “Oh, the angel has been here today,” when, on coming home, they were greeted with smiling faces and a warm supper. Yes, Rose Virginia was fortunate in her mother.

Doctor Pelletier, Rose’s father, touched her life less nearly; but if punishment for the sins of parents is visited on their children, the blessings which follow from their good deeds are no less the inheritance of their offspring. Dr. Pelletier was known far and wide for his charity to the poor at whose service he gratuitously placed his medical skill. More than once he brought into his house poor patients whom he found ill-lodged and had them tended by his own wife. He died when Rose was but ten years old. It was her second acquaintance with death, for the previous year her favourite sister, Emilie, had died at the age of fifteen. That time Rose had been quite bewildered, as she looked at the still form of her once gay and lively companion-with whom she had roamed the meadows and gathered wildflowers for Our Lady’s altar. Wide-eyed with wonder Rose would listen to Emilie’s stories and there was something of heroworship in the admiration which she developed for this sister who was six years her senior, who could do so many things and seemed to know everything; but as she looked at her now lying so still on her white bed, surrounded by the flowers she loved, Rose’s eyes were larger and more thoughtful than usual-she was puzzlng it out- why? whither? why had she to go alone? Rose could find no answer except this: God willed it. Her mother had told her that and had added: “And since He willed it, it has to be all right, in fact it is the very best thing that could happen, otherwise God wouldn’t will it.” At that Rose sighed a deep, deep sigh; and getting up from where she had been kneeling for an hour, she bent over the still form, pressed a long warm kiss on the cold, unresponsive cheek and went out of the room. Life without the pleasant companionship of this her heroine, her little second mother, promised to be very drab indeed.

As a result of this death, Rose became more attached than ever to her mother and shortly afterwards Dr. Pelletier fell seriously ill. From the moment he was confined to bed he knew that it was the end, and he took long counsel with his wife, arranging for the future of the family. These matters settled, Dr. Pelletier turned all this thoughts Heavenward and Rose would while away the tedious hours of his illness by reading to him passages from the Imitation of Christ and other spiritual books. . . . They closed his eyes in death and for the first time in her life Madame Pelletier broke down and wept. Rose had never seen her weep before, had never seen her so listless, as if all the interest had suddenly gone out of life for her. She who had always been so full of plans had nothing to suggest now, although the very death of her husband necessitated many changes. Rose looked on in silence, for she could find no word of comfort in her own sad heart, and the shadow of this cross fell athwart their lives for many a day. When at length time cleared it away, there stood revealed a new Rose, no longer a child despite her ten years, but a woman matured by suffering, and sobered by the responsibility she felt towards her mother, for now they seemed to have exchanged roles-it was no longer Rose who looked to the mother for support and guidance, it was rather the mother who leaned on Rose, and found her what many another broken spirit was to find her in later years-a very tower of strength.

For four years after the death of Dr. Pelletier the family continued to live at Noirmoutier, whither they had gone during the troubled years of the Revolution. Now, in 1810, it was decided that they return to their place of origin- Soullansand that Rose be placed in a boarding school at Tours. The parting between mother and daughter was painful in the extreme, for in those days of slow and difficult travel boarders did not go home for the holidays, so that even if all when well they could not hope to see each other again for four years. Madame Pelletier, however, had a presentiment that all would not go well; she already felt at the end of her strength. That was why she could trust herself to say no word as they parted; so they embraced each other in silence- not knowing that they would never meet again on this side of the grave.

SCHOOL DAYS

It did not take long for Rose to settle down in her new surroundings. Intelligent and anxious to learn as she was, she found life in a boarding school full of new interests. Soon, however, she noticed that all was not well there. The Superior- Madame Chobelets-though a woman of sterling qualities was constantly changing the rules of the little community. The result was that the head mistress left the school and joined the Ursulines. This mistress had been greatly revered by the pupils, so the latter, by way of a mistaken loyalty, determined to give as much trouble as possible to her successor. A young nun, Mlle. de Lignac, was appointed to the charge and Rose Virginia’s heart was sore for her as she saw how the girls planned daily some new devices to give her trouble. She felt that she must do something to help, so one evening she got together a few of her friends. She had a suggestion to make. Were they not tired of being naughty ? Did they really get satisfaction out of it anyway ? Well, why not turn over a new leaf ? The beautiful feast of Pentecost was at hand. Suppose they try to be good and obedient by way of preparation for it . . . and Rose and her natural eloquence exhorted them not to grieve the Holy Spirit. Her earnestness was so irresistible that she succeeded in making all her companions amenable to discipline once more. Mlle. de Lignac knew well whom she had to thank for this and a sincere affection grew up between teacher and pupil which later developed into lifelong friendship.

Only too soon was Rose to have sore need of a friend. In June, 1813, without any premonition, she suddenly learned that her mother had died. This loss was almost too much for her. All her school-day dreams had centred round the time when she and her mother would be reunited, how many times during the long preparation had she not heartened herself with that hope ! . . . and now. . . . Fortunately Mlle. de Lignac was at her side. With all the sympathy of her rich nature she strove to comfort the lonely girl; and after the first uncontrollable outbursts of grief Rose endeavoured to look upon this cross, crushing though it was, with the eyes of faith-and, in this as in all things, to press the Will of God to her heart.

By a series of painful losses in the deaths of her dear ones, first her favourite sister, then her father and finally her mother, Rose Virginia’s nature had been tempered and refined. There were yet other trials awaiting her. The next year her dearly- loved Mlle. de Lignac, with five other nuns, left the school and joined the Ursulines. Rose was now seventeen. It was time for her to think of her future. That she would he a nun there was no doubt-but where ? Mlle. de Lignac and herself had long talks together. Why would Rose not come with her and be an Ursuline ? It was a tempting proposal for she was admirably suited as a teacher and a leader. Besides, the work gave scope for doing much good; in fact, the crying need of the time Was for the Christian education of the young. Rose gave the matter serious consideration but at length came to the conclusion that God was not calling her to the company of St. Ursula. Left behind in the now dreary boarding school she devoted much time to prayer that she might discover God’s Will. The Order of Carmel held a strong attraction for her as she was an ardent admirer of St. Teresa, and one of her classmates-Marie Angelique Dernee-was just about to enter the Carmelite convent at Tours. Without doubt Rose would have gone with her had she not caught a glimpse of another congregation-the white-robed Sisters of the Refuge. Their convent was not far from the school and when out for walks with the other pupils Rose occasionally caught sight of a white figure in the grounds; or as she paid a visit to the Convent Chapel she heard the nuns singing the Office behind the grille and could faintly distinguish them bowing reverently at the Gloria Patri, like so many angelic spirits in the presence of the Most High. It was on one of these occasions that she felt for a certainty that this was where she should be a nun. Accordingly, one evening, when out walking with one of the teachers, Rose induced her companion to go in with her to the Refuge that she might speak to the Mother Superior of her desire and offer herself as a prospective postulant. The Superior received her kindly and promised to accept her as soon as she had obtained consent of her family Rose was overjoyed, and on their way back her companion remarked that she had never seen her in such high spirits.

It was later than usual when they reached the school and on knocking at the door what was not their dismay to find it opened by the Superior-Madame Chobelets herself. There was no mistaking her displeasure as she sharply enquired where they had been. Immediately Rose confessed everything-her desire to be a Refuge nun, her interview with the Superior and its success. Madame Chobelets was beside herself with disappointment. She had fondly hoped that Rose would join her own Association and keep it from falling into the ruin which threatened it since the departure of her six best subjects. When she spoke, however, it was scorn rather than displeasure which rang in her voice. To enter the Refuge indeed! One of her pupils -it was unthinkable ! Did Rose know the type of people with whom she would be associating there ? Why had she not asked the advice of those who knew better ? Madame Chobelets ran on and on, and finally ordered Rose to bed immediately without supper. A very crestfallen and somewhat bewildered Rose retired to her icy bed in the large cold dormitory. Sleep was out of the question and alone in the dark she pondered over the words she had just heard so scornfully spoken. Did she know the type of people she would be associating with in the Refuge ? Yes, she did. The nuns would be her own type, cultured women of respectable family, for the founder of the Congregation had laid it down as one of the most important qualifications required in postulants that they be of respectable family and irreproachable character. As for the other inmates, the girls and women whom the nuns sheltered there, she knew who they were too; it was for such as these that Christ had come upon earth-not for the just but for sinners; it was over the repentance of one such that there was more joy among the angels of God than for ninety-nine just; and if Christ had gloried in being called the Friend of sinners why should it be so unthinkable that one of Madame Chobelets’s pupils should devote her life to such as these ? Did she not profess to train her girls on the model of Christ and what could be more Christ-1ike than to stretch out a helping hand to the fallen ? Rose’s thoughts were interrupted by the shuffle of footsteps groping in the dark and a voice whispering: “Are you there, Rose ? I managed to get you some biscuits and Henriette will be up directly with a cup of hot chocolate. It is a downright shame to have sent you to bed hungry this perishing night-and for nothing at all, too. All the girls say-” But Rose cut her short. “Pauline,” she said, “don’t trouble to bring me anything for I shall not eat it. Thanks very much all the same; but really I could not disobey Madame Chobelets’s orders like that and I don’t feel a bit hungry; so run down and tell Henrietta not to bring up the chocolate.” “But you shouldn’t have been punished like this,” protested the other. “Perhaps not,” said Rose with a sigh, “but since Madame Chobelets thinks differently we shall leave it at that. . . . Thanks again, Pauline. . . . Tell Henriette not to come up-Goodnight.”

Rose turned over and pursued this subject of her vocation. . . . There was no disgrace in her becoming a Refuge nun she had satisfied herself on that point. The next step was to get her family’s consent. On her mother’s death, Monsieur Marsaud, her brother-in-law, had been appointed her guardian. She would write to him, yes, next morning she would write to him. . . . This resolution taken she fell asleep and dreamt that she was eating hot chicken soup in the Refuge convent and that Madame Chobelets and Monsieur Marsaud were skating on the ice in the garden pond !

Next morning she wrote her letter. The reply was prompt but was not favourable. Frankly, her family was aghast at the proposal. Good Heavens, why the Refuge? What was she thinking of ? If she wanted to be a nun, let her go to Carmel or to the newly-founded congregation of the Sacred Heart, and they would not object, but the Refuge was out of the question-and that was final.

Rose knew that further argument by letter would be useless so she bided her time until she went on a visit to her sister, Madame Marsaud. Here she pleaded her cause so well that she won over her sister and together they prevailed upon Monsieur Marsaud to give his consent; which he at length did, reluctantly enough. “Since she had to set her heart on it,” he said, she might enter when she chose, “but she was not to bind herself by vows until she had attained the age of twenty-one. The responsibility of this very doubtful step should be her own.” So on October 20th, 1814, Rose Virginia entered the Refuge convent at Tours. She was just eighteen years old.

AT THE REFUGE

Everything in the convent delighted the new postulant, and the words of the psalmist often rose to her lips: “Blessed are they that dwell in Thy House, O Lord, they shall praise Thee for ever and ever . . . for better is one day in Thy courts above thousands.” Wherever she turned on the cloister or corridor some pious sentence inscribed on the walls met her gaze, and raised her thoughts heavenward. She was particularly struck by one which ran: “Holiness becometh Thy House” and each time her eyes lighted on it she felt urged to still greater efforts after perfection. The rch spirituality of the founder, St. John Eudes, was unfolded to her and she revelled in his writings and especially in his cult of the Sacred Hearts of Jesus and Mary, which was not then universally practised as it is today.

The nuns on their side were equally charmed with this new postulant. Many of them were old and broken in health, from sad experiences during the Revolution. Many had escaped the guillotine by a mere chance and all looked forward to the future with fear and gloomy forbodings, for that very year-1814-Napoleon had fallen and France was again threatened with chaos and revolution. But Rose came among them as one with hope; she had visions of a glowing future. On hearing her describe them, the nuns smiled indulgently at what they deemed her inexperience. Yet her cheerful words and bright ways were as a tonic to their broken spirits and they eagerly sought her companionship at recreation. It must have been a pleasant picture to see them-the nuns, old and worn, one crippled with rheumatism, another hard of hearing, a third leaning heavily on a crutch-and Rose, a slim, girlish figure in her long postulant’s dress, her face aglow with the ardour and enthusiasm that filled her soul. They listened to her spellbound while she spoke of her burning desire to save souls-hundreds of them, thousands of them-to snatch them from the brink of hell and lead them to the feet of the Good Shepherd. In the first chapter of the constitutions of the congregation she had read these words: “A soul is of more value than a world, and consequently to assist in withdrawing it out of the abyss of sin is a greater work than to create an entire world and to bring it out of nothing into being.” The more she learnt of the vocation of the Refuge, the more highly did she value it. To attend the sick in hospitals, to assuage the pains of the wounded, to relieve the fever- stricken, all these were admirable works of charity but as heaven is above earth, as the soul is above the body, so is the work of sheltering and saving souls greater than all possible works of charity that can be performed.

Ten months had elapsed since her entry, when Rose was one day summoned to the Superior’s room and informed that she was to be clothed in the Holy Habit the following week. The Superior asked whether there was any particular saint whose name she would like to bear. Rose jumped at the suggestion-oh ! yes, she wanted to be called Sister Mary of St. Theresa. Her promptness and decision took the Superior somewhat aback . . . this postulant was all very well but she was just a little too sure of herself; too sure of what she wanted and too ardent in the wanting. “St. Teresa,” exclaimed the Superior, “but she is far too great a saint for you. Look for a humbler patroness, child; one whom you can more easily imitate.” It was a disappointment but Rose quickly brushed it aside, no setback could keep down her high spirits for any length of time-disappointments, humiliations, hard work-she took them all in her stride and “rejoiced as a giant” to run her course. Besides, had she not enlisted as a follower of Christ and where would He be leading except towards Calvary’s mound ? So she turned over the pages of the religious calendar and her eyes fell on “St. Euphrasia-Virgin.” She had never heard of this saint before, the name would surely be humble enough. It was.

On the morning of the Clothing, Rose’s heart beat “high for joy” as does the heart of every postulant on that day. As she passed along the cloister on her way to the chapel, she stopped to kneel for a moment in front of a large crucifix which stood there, when suddenly as she looked up into the face of the dying Christ a shaft of flame seemed to issue forth from the figure on the cross and smart and pierce her own heart, setting it on fire with a thirst for souls. There and then she solemnly promised to devote herself until her dying day to that same cause for which Christ died, and to spend herself and be spent in reclaiming souls for Him.

Sister Mary of St. Euphrasia, as we shall now call her, passed the first year of her noviceship in learning the obligations of the religious life and in becoming acquainted with the peculiar difficulties of the apostolate to which she was about to devote her life. There was only one thing which she found hard-the enforced inactivity of the noviceship. Complaining of this to her Superior, she was told to utilize her spare time in reading the Scriptures and the Lives of the Saints. She did so and found in them a very mine of wisdom and sanctity. While still a novice she was vouchsafed such a realization of the value of obedience that she begged to be allowed to make a private vow of that virtue a year before her profession, for it seemed to her that she was losing an incalculable amount of merit in not having her actions consecrated by vow. This privilege was granted to her. When her “spiritual year,” as it is called, was over, Sister M. of St. Euphrasia, though still a novice, was appointed second in charge of the penitents. Now she was in direct contact with souls and placed herself completely at their service. While they worked she would read to them in her firm, clear voice, and she enlivened their recreations as she did those of the nuns. Her bright smile and magnetic personality shed a light and warmth on what had formerly been a humdrum and drab existence. In this occupation so dear to her heart, the second year of the novitiate passed quickly by.

PROFESSION AND AFTERWARDS

When Sister M. of St. Euphrasia was twenty-one years old, she was allowed to take the vows of religion. Besides the three ordinary vows of Poverty, Chastity and Obedience, the Refuge nuns and the Good Shepherd nuns of today take a fourth-that of labouring for the salvation of souls. At Profession the novice is given a silver heart to symbolize the exchange of hearts which should take place between Christ and His spouse. In the case of Sister M. of St. Euphrasia, it was no mere symbol, for if it could be said of St. Paul, “Cor Pauli, Cor Christi,” the heart of this young nun seemed likewise to be the very heart of Christ, for all her aspirations and interests were His, all her thoughts and pre-occupations were of how best to further His Glory and when she dreamt at night- for now she had no time to dream by day-it was of more onerous undertakings and a more widespread apostolate.

Almost immediately after Profession she was given full charge of the young girls- a difficult and responsible post. But this young mistress revelled in overcoming difficulties; the impossible did not exist for her. She allowed no day to pass without giving an instruction to the “children” as she called them, and she discovered that ignorance rather than malice was the cause of the fall of most of them. The girls on their side knew that she had the heart of a mother for them and there was nothing that they would not do for their young mistress. Many of them had met with but scant kindness in the world and experienced now for the first-time the tender solicitude of one whose sole aim in life seemed to be to help them-that of itself brought out what was best in their nature. They took the hand so lovingly outstretched to them and set their faces once more towards the good and the right, the noble and the beautiful. Sister M. of St. Euphrasia showed them the way and within a remarkably short time many of them had become so virtuous and united to God that they aspired to the religious life. Nothing would do them but to consecrate to Him all that remained to them of life. Of course, they could not become Refuge nuns-the stipulations of the Founder with regard to postulants put that out of the question, so they entered elsewhere, in such congregations as would receive them. Unfortunately, they did not always succeed when transplanted thus from the Refuge. Many of them had been underprivileged at the outset of life, had been brought up in an atmosphere uncongenial to virtue and the same stability could not be expected from them as from those whose home life had fostered virtue in them from childhood. Sister M. of St. Euphrasia was the first to realize this, and gradually she began to ask herself whether something could not be done to allow of these girls forming a community of their own within the shelter of the Refuge. They would be like so many Magdalens whose virtuous and penitential lives would be for an odour of sweetness to Christ in the tabernacle as was the precious ointment of their great prototype. The more she thought of it, the more did the project seem feasible and at length she broached the subject to her Superior. This latter thought it far too novel an idea to be practicable; nevertheless, she gave the matter due consideration and asked the advice of the senior Sisters of the community. One and all, they voted against it-the risks involved in making the experiment were too great. Sister M. of St. Euphrasia accepted their decision in peace though this was one of the few occasions when she experienced that obedience can be bitter as well as sweet, but she bowed her head and murmured: “Thy Will be done.”

For eight years the girls benefited by her wise direction and then when not yet thirty years old she was elected Superior. The very first time she addressed her assembled community, after telling them how unworthy she felt of the confidence they were placing in her, she added: “But since you have made me Superior, I intend to found the Magdalens straight away,” and she did. Mother Pelletier, as we shall now call her, gave the Magdalens the Carmelite Rule and Habit, with slight modifications. Her school-day friend-Marie Angelique Dernee-who was now Superior of the Carmelite Convent at Tours, was of the greatest assistance to her in this and took such an interest in the project that she and her nuns made the habits for the first Magdalens. The undertaking was a great success and still is today. In every Province of the Good Shepherd Order throughout the world are found communities of Magdalens. They take vows, say the Office of Our Lady in choir, work mostly at the making of vestments and altar linen and live saintly lives known only to God.

The young Superior next bought up some adjacent houses and enlarged the apartments of the girls so that accommodation could be afforded to greater numbers. Then seeing how many young girls fell into evil ways through lack of protection she organized a separate establishment within the Convent for the preservation of children exposed to vice. She had an eye to everything, improved the food and clothing and in her motherly solicitude attended to the least detail. When she was in the midst of these manifold activities and her Convent resembled a humming beehive- everybody active, everybody happy-something happened which sent a thrill of joy through her heart. It was a letter from the Bishop of Angers.-a neighbouring town-requesting her to come and found a Convent of the Refuge in that town as many girls there were in sore need of protection and he promised her a great harvest of souls. Before she had read the letter through, Mother Pelletier was on her knees thanking God. Here at last was the realization of her dreams ! She went to Angers immediately and by July of that same year, 1829, had established the Convent there, though amidst the direst poverty. Imagine having but one mattress in the whole house and there were five Sisters, so Mother Pelletier suggested that they take night about sleeping on it. Somehow nothing seemed hard when she led the way, though their dinner at times consisted of boiled nettles.

There had formerly been a Penitentiary at Angers called the House of the Good Shepherd. The appropriateness of the title pleased Mother Pelletier and she adopted it for her new Convent. Henceforth it would be known as The Good Shepherd.

Being still Superior of the Refuge at Tours, Mother Pelletier appointed another nun to direct the house at Angers and she herself returned to her own community, though she continued to help in every way possible the new enterprise. The establishment of a new foundation is always difficult; it was rendered doubly so by a politcal crisis- the anti-clerical revolution of 1830. Soon the Refuge of Tours was in straitened circumstances itself and the novices had to return to their families; but the courage and energy of the young Superior weathered the storm. The following year her term of office as Superior expired and she was charged with the direction of the house at Angers. ‘ Here she was in her element-everything succeeded with her, benefactors came forward, postulants presented themselves. Within four months of her return she had seventeen novices and was building a chapel large enough to accommodate three hundred nuns. Up at four in the morning, she and the Sisters helped on the work by removing the sand and filling in the earth-and this when she was already suffering from the ailment which was to bring her to the grave.

Some of the older nuns fell ill and the novices were as yet too inexperienced to be trusted with the care of the “children.” Mother Pelletier appealed to Tours for help. Could they send her a capable Sister for a few months until her novices were trained in ? The reply came back: No. Then she appealed to the Refuge at Nantes. No, they could spare nobody. It was in these straits when she did not know where to turn for assistance that Mother Pelletier conceived the idea of the Generalate. She determined that any convent founded from Angers had better remain united to it and subject to its Superior, for union is strength; and she did not wish that others experience the difficulties which she was then struggling against.

In 1833 a request came from the town of Le Mans asking her to found a Refuge there. Here was a further opening for her apostolic zeal. Before establishing that foundation she discussed her project of the generalate with the bishop of Angers. He quite fell in with her views and got the Sisters destined for the new convent to sign an engagement by which they bound themselves to remain united to Angers and under the jurisdiction of its Superior.

THE GENERALATE

The bishop now appealed to Rome for permission to form the generalate. As soon, however, as the project became known it was violently opposed by the Refuge convents. They considered it traitorous to change the constitutions given them by their holy founder, not realizing that St. John Eudes had legislated for a period when a few isolated Refuges through the country were sufficient for the need of the time -that was in 1642. But now in the nineteenth century, with the industrial revolution changing the face of Europe, crowding together armies of factory workers, men, women and children, into ever-growing cities, the social evils which the Refuge sought to counteract were multiplied. A few isolated convents would have been hopelessly inadequate under the changed circumstances. That was why at this juncture God raised up Mother Pelletier, “the most illustrious daughter of St. John Eudes,” to supplement his work. The nuns of Tours, however, did not realize this. It was an instance of the prophet not being recognized in his own country. They accused her of overweening pride and ambition, of being a traitor to their traditions and said she was willing to upset everything, provided she obtained the power to which she aspired. We must not blame them unduly, for they were actuated by an upright intention and feared lest Mother Pelletier’s “rashness” might result in ruin for the whole Order. Besides, Mother Pelletier belonged to the rank of geniuses and geniuses ipso facto are incomprehensible to ordinary mortals. Moreover, she was destined to be a saint, and has not the Model and Exemplar of all the saints said: “If they have persecuted me they will also persecute you ?” But a saint is not synonymous with a stoic and her sensitive heart bled at seeing herself become an object of distrust to her former Sisters, and she wept as many tears as would float a ship at the unworthy motives attributed to her.

Meanwhile, she was requested to found three new convents at Poitiers, Grenoble and Metz, which she did.

At Rome the question of the generalate was under consideration. Mother Pelletier’s opponents enlisted the support of fourteen Church dignitaries, archbishops and bishops. His Lordship of Le Mans was among them. He insisted that their convent in his diocese break all ties with Angers. Half the community remained loyal to the Foundress and returned to the mother-house. The others fell in with the bishop’s wishes and formed an independent Refuge convent. All these prelates denounced Mother Pelletier to the Pope for an ambitious woman. As His Holiness, Gregory XVI, listened to accusation after accusation against her he suddenly asked the secretary: “What defence does this nun make for herself?” “None, your Holiness,” was the reply. “Then,” said the Pope, “she is in the right,” and thereupon he gave his approbation. The generalate was an accomplished fact. . . . Away in Angers the nuns were assembled at recreation when suddenly the church bell rang out three times. It could never be discovered who rang it, but it was afterwards ascertained that its chiming synchronized with the signing of the decree at Rome.

DREAMS COME TRUE

Now that Rome had spoken the storm quietened down. Mother Pelletier was able to give her undivided attention to the training of her many novices. Soon from all over France came veritable S.O.S.s-bishops asking her help in reclaiming the all-too-many victims of the demoralizing conditions engendered by the new economic order. In response to their appeals she sent forth her nuns to St. Florent, Puy, Strasbourg, Sens, Rheims, Arles, to Amiens and Lyons, to Bourges, Chambery and Lille. Across the frontiers into Italy they went to transform the women’s prison in Rome from a dungeon of despair into a haven of peace whence numerous souls, repentant and purified, have gone to join in Heaven the ranks of those who “sing forever the mercies of the Lord.” Northwards, too, they went into Belgium and Germany. Within twelve years of the foundation at Angers there was a Good Shepherd Convent in the heart of Protestant London. By 1842 her daughters were embarking for far away America, where many an emigrant girl, friendless and on the verge of despair, was to find within their fold a home and peace of soul. From sweltering Algeria and the Emerald Isle came appeals, and Mother Pelletier’s overflowing charity refused none. The Novitiate in Angers began to take on a cosmopolitan character as postulants arrived from every country in Europe. Though the diversity of languages was great there was unity of heart and mind for the broad, Catholic spirit of the Foundress permeated all. She loved to repeat: “I do not wish it said any longer that I am French. I am Italian, English*, German, Spanish, African, American, Indian, etc. I belong to every country where there are souls to be saved.” Her work of saving them was going on apace, but souls are bought at a great price, and that price Mother Pelletier was soon called upon to pay.

PAYING THE PRICE

In 1842 the See of Angers became vacant and was filled by a prelate of domineering personality-Monsignor Angebault . From that time until the day of her death twenty- six years later, this bishop was a source of suffering to the Holy Foundress. The whole cause of the trouble lay in this-that the congregation was under the protection of one of the Cardinals at Rome whereas the bishop wished to have supreme jurisdiction over it himself. Accordingly, he appealed to Rome for a change in the constitutions. The request was refused and the full brunt of his displeasure fell on Mother Pelletier. He aimed at deposing her. Matters were aggravated by the defection of one of her daughters who wished to renounce her vocation but in trying to excuse her own action she laid the blame of it on her Superior. This nun was an Italian Jewess who had entered the congregation in the first fervour of her conversion to the Catholic religion. Being well versed in languages she had been entrusted with translating the correspondence between Angers and Rome, so she knew exactly how matters stood between Mother Pelletier and the Bishop; knew especially that the latter would lend a ready ear to any complaint she might make against the former. She now revealed to the Bishop all that had passed between Angers and Rome. Had she confined herself to the truth it would have been bad enough and an unpardonable breach of confidence, but she flagrantly distorted the facts and especially emphasized this-that Mother Pelletier was a tyrant and ruled her community with an iron hand. What the Bishop heard agreed perfectly with his own prejudices. The Jewess gained her end-she was dispensed from her vows, no blame attaching to her on that account for it was all laid at the door of the Superior. Then the Bishop set up an official enquiry of Mother Pelletier’s government of her nuns. This lasted ten days during which he questioned each Sister in private. As they had no complaint to make he concluded that she so tyrannized over them that they dared not speak. He wished to have her sent away from Angers but the council opposed him in this. They had elected her Superior and only they could depose her. Then he openly broke off all intercourse with the convent. It was a most awkward and painful situation—postulants waiting to be clothed, novices waiting to make profession-yet the Bishop would neither officiate himself nor delegate another to do it in his place, for over a year. Eventually he did appoint a delegate but he, himself, would have nothing to do with the convent, henceforth. Such, in brief, was the great trial which Mother Pelletier had to undergo. It takes but a few minutes to write about it and still less to read, but to suffer it for twenty-six long years was neither light nor easy. How many sleepless nights ! How many painful encounters ! Above all, what regrettable consequences, for many of the clergy grew suspicious of the congregation and many postulants were deterred from entering it. It had, however, one transcending good result-it fashioned Mother Pelletier into a saint-I had almost said a martyr. During one of her journeys to Rome, at this time, she visited the amphitheatre and catacombs. Afterwards she told her daughters that when she compared her trials with those of the martyrs her own seemed light and easy. Is there not something pathetically human in this great-hearted woman trying to sustain her own courage, as any of us might do, by comparing her trials with those of the saints ?

There were trials of another nature, too. Deaths among her nuns. Many of these had been lifelong, cherished friends. Some had come with her from Tours and had never wavered in their loyalty to her during all those chequered

*The majority of French people in Mother Pelletier’s day did not make any distinction between Irish, English or Scotch-they were all “Anglish” to them. years. Now she folded their hands, not without a very human sense of loneliness. Others were young, holy and capable, on whom she had built high hopes. Then there were the partings for distant missions, to Austria, Malta, Syria and South America-partings which were almost as final as death.

It was in 1863 that Mother Euphrasia, at the urgent request of His Lordship Most Rev. Dr. Goold, Bishop of Melbourne, sent the first band of Good Shepherd Sisters to Australia. Her maternal heart grieved to expose her loved Daughters to the rigours and danger of such a long sea voyage in the unsteady craft of those days, but her unbounded zeal gave her confidence which proved to be well founded. Four Sisters arrived in Melbourne on 24th June, 1863, and after a few weeks spent with the kindly Sisters of Mercy at Nicholson Street, secured a building known as “Abbotsford.” The original owner had given it this name because of his great interest in the works of Sir Walter Scott and his famous novel, Abbotsford. Throughout the years, now bordering on a hundred, the work for souls has extended through the whole of Australia and New Zealand. There are Convents in each of the capital cities and several in Victoria where the Sisters make every effort to cope with the social evils of the day by sheltering and uplifting the many young girls whose chequered careers have endangered their eternal salvation.

Labours, enterprises, intense activity, physical and moral sufferings were steadily taking toll of the Foundress’s strength, until, with her body worn out by labour and sickness and her heart long since broken, she died in the odour of sanctity on 24th April, 1868. She was almost seventy-two years of age.

The inscription over her tomb epitomizes her life: “The zeal of Thy House hath eaten me up.” Somewhere in his poems Wordsworth asks this question:

“Who is the happy warrior, who is he

That every man in arms should wish to be?”

And he gives the answer:

“It is the generous spirit who when brought

Among the tasks of real life hath wrought

Upon the plan that pleased his childish thought.”

As a child little Rose Virginia had said: “I’ll be a nun.” We have seen how gloriously she fulfilled her aspiration.

She became not only a nun, but the mother and model of a host of nuns. Today over ten thousand Sisters of the Good Shepherd, scattered in 390 convents the world over, look to her for inspiration and invoke her help. In sunny Spain and dark Africa, in the great sub-continent of India and the islands of New Zealand, by the mud-locked Irrawaddy and the ice-bound St. Lawrence, in China and Japan, Australia and South America, in the materialistic West and among the contemplative races of the East, as far-flung as the Church itself, reaches this white-robed army-the daughters of Mother Pelletier. In Ireland, too-north, south, east and west-the beneficent work goes on: at the Provincial House in Limerick; in Belfast, Waterford and New Ross-to mention but a few of the convents- while Good Shepherd missionary nuns prepare for distant fields of labour in Ceylon and India, Africa and Australia, at their missionary centre-Montenotte, Cork.

On Ascension Day, 1940, all of them, far and near, rejoiced in the triumph of their mother, for on that day the Church set the seal of her approval on the life and work of their holy Foundress, by conferring upon her its highest honour-that of canonization. Well may her daughters apply to her the words of praise given to Judith of old: “Thou art the glory of Jerusalem, thou art the joy of Israel, thou art the honour of thy people.”

St. Mary Euphrasia, pray for us.

Imprimatur:

@ D. MANNIX,

Archiepiscopus, Melbournensis.

Diocesan Censor: PERCY JONES

7th September, 1958

Saint Mary Magdalen

FEAST DAY, JULY 22

MONSIGNOR JOHN T. MCMAHON, M.A., PH.D

INDEX

The Church celebrates the Feast of St. Mary Magdalen on July 22nd. In this attempt to give a picture of Mary it is taken for granted that she is one person, not two or three, as has been suggested and as the Greek Church and some others still believe. As far as the New Testament goes the evidence is not conclusive. But constant and living tradition down the years has identified these three women as one, in the person of Mary Magdalen, arid in the liturgy of the Latin Church it is just about taken for granted. The sinner who anointed the feet of Christ in the house of Simon the Pharisee; the sister of Martha and Lazarus in Bethany; and finally the person all the world knows as Mary Magdalen who stood beneath the Cross of the dying Christ and was the first recorded witness of the Resurrection- these three characters are assumed to be one and the same person. For the singular grace of being the first to see the Risen Christ and to have been commanded by Him to announce His Resurrection to the disciples, the Church orders the Creed to be said on her feast-day as in the Masses of the Apostles.

In this story of a public sinner becoming a saint, Our Blessed Lord shows Himself in a tender light, and the beauty of His understanding and sympathetic character has never been seen in a more touching form than in His attitude towards this sinner.

There is in this conversion a moral beauty, so winningly human yet so tenderly Divine, so utterly Christ-like in its pity and clemency, that it not only proves the authenticity of the story itself, but even now, after two thousand years, it moves and melts our hearts.

WHO WAS MARY MAGDALEN?

At the southern end of the beautiful little plain of Genesareth was the small but fashionable town of Magdala. It lay conveniently half-way between Capharnaum to the north and Tiberias to the south. From Capharnaum and its poor, hardworking fisher folk it could obtain both provisions and domestic help; from Tiberias would come the leisured classes, Romans and Jews alike, who fancied a villa by the sea. It was a gay town. The ordinary people of the country around and of the fishing villages did not give Magdala a good name.

Anyone coming on foot from Tiberias, or south from Capharnaum, must pass through Magdala, for the only road clings to the side of the lake. It would, therefore, be a road well known to Christ, Who would often pass through this town of the rich and luxury class. As the Friend of sinners it is likely enough that He often stopped there and was heard speak by not a few.

Magdala enjoyed its air of religious broad-mindedness. Fashionable, luxurious, self-satisfied and conscienceless Magdala possessed what is called an open mind. It smiled at the crude fanaticism of the fishing villages, and shrugged its shoulders at the harsh intolerance of Jerusalem. Mary Magdalen, so called because she came from Magdala, was the daughter of one of the important Sadducean families, with a country house on the shores of the Sea of Galilee and a town residence at Bethany, near the gates of Jerusalem. Martha was her sister, and Lazarus was her brother. Her family, fortunate and powerful, followed the fashions and tastes of the day, and accepted the religious outlook of happy Magdala. Young Mary was brought up in Greek style. At the age of fourteen, already radiantly beautiful and completely developed, as women are in those lands, Mary lived like the spoiled daughter of a well-to-do family.

St. Luke introduces Mary Magdalen to us as “a woman that was in the city, a sinner” (7.37), in the hous e of Simon the Pharisee. Later he mentions her again as one of the band of holy women who travelled about with Christ and His Apostles, and ministered to their needs. Some of these had been cured by Christ of illnesses, and others had been exorcized. Chief among the latter was Mary, “called Magdalen, out of whom seven devils were gone forth” (St. Luke 8, 2). People possessed by demons were not necessarily sinners, but there can hardly be a doubt that the Magdalen was a notorious sinner.

St. Luke mentions “Joanna the wife of Chusa, Herod’s steward,” in the palace at Tiberias not far from Magdala. He also names “Susanna, and many others who ministered unto Him of their substance” (St. Luke 8, 3). It is possible that these good women, the first Women’s Guild in the Church, may have spoken to Mary Magdalen of Jesus and brought her to hear Him speak, also to witness His healing power and to feel His sympathy with the sinner and the afflicted. This would prepare her for her public act of reparation which St. Luke narrates. (St. Luke 7, 36–50).

THE DINNER OF SIMON THE PHARISEE

St. Luke alone gives us the account of the dinner at the home of Simon the Pharisee. St. Luke does not indicate the time or place. A Pharisee, named Simon, invited Jesus to a meal. A woman, known as a bad character, came into the room. She carried an alabaster box of ointment. She came behind Jesus Who was reclining on a couch, and began to bathe His feet with her tears, and she wiped them by using her flowing hair as a towel. She kept kissing the sacred feet and she anointed them with the oil.

Simon looked on with horrified amazement, saying to himself that if Jesus really was a prophet He would know that the woman was a public sinner. Jesus read the Pharisee’s thoughts and answered them kindly by speaking to Simon directly. Having invited Him to his home, Simon had shown scant respect, omitting all the courtesies given to a guest by eastern hospitality- water for the feet, the kiss of welcome, oil for the hair. Evidently Simon thought that Jesus was unworthy of such a welcome. But the woman had made up for the bad manners of the host, by bathing His feet with tears and using her tresses as a towel; she had kissed and anointed His feet with an expensive, perfumed ointment. Evidently she thought of her great debt for sin and she was confident that He would forgive that debt because of her great love. The Pharisee would not admit that he had committed grave sins, and because he had so little to be pardoned, loved Jesus but little, if at all. Then Jesus said to the woman: “Thy sins are forgiven thee.” Those at table began to ask themselves: “Who is this that even forgives sins?” Jesus finished His absolution with the words: “Go in peace.”

Those are the bare facts as narrated by St. Luke. But we may in imagination fill in details which will bring the scene home to us.

Simon the Pharisee must have been a wealthy man, for the dinner was an elaborate one and the guests were the very important people of the town. Simon had heard many things about Jesus, all of them in His favour, and the latest news of His raising the widow’s son from death the other day at Naim, across the valley, convinced him that this Man was worth meeting, so let us have Him home to dinner. Of course, it must be remembered that He was only a carpenter from Nazareth, of all places. He was bound to be rough, uncouth in manners, and ill at ease in such high society. The invitation was sent and Jesus accepted. Jesus was received politely by Simon, but he passed over the washing of the feet at the door, the formal embrace inside, and no oil was given for His hair. Of course, He was unaccustomed to these things and would not miss them. From the beginning Jesus was put in His place by Simon and his guests. Jesus did not seem to notice the condescension. With the rest He reclined in the place allotted to Him. He spoke when spoken to. The dinner was falling flat, and his friends were not having the interesting evening He promised them.

MARY’S DRAMATIC ENTRANCE

On a sudden a strange thing happened, The dining hall was open on all sides, anyone could look in at the tables and guests. Suddenly on the verandah stood a woman. She was fashionably dressed, flashing rings on het fingers, golden bracelets on her bare arms, and her hair was long and flowing loose over her shoulders. Her face was beautiful yet strong and commanding. She was no ordinary woman, she was born to be great in either good or evil. She stood there unsmiling, scanning the guests, her eyes searching for someone.

She carried a little alabaster box, the well-known box of precious ointment.

As she stood there the chatter was hushed. The guests nudged each other as if to ask: “Do you see what I see?” Lips were curled, eyebrows arched as they looked with scorn upon her for such an outrageous intrusion. She continued to search the faces, until at length her eyes met those of Jesus. He did not repel her, alone in that room He was calm, His glance was responsive, and spoke to her that He fully understood.

Instantly she rushed across the room. Before a hand could restrain her she was standing at the feet of Jesus, stretched out upon the couch. Then down upon her knees she went; in a torrent the tears began to flow; they fell on those feet, her eager hands seized them as she spread the water of her tears over them, washing away the dust that was there. As she stooped, her mass of hair fell forward. She wrapped His feet in it, wiped them with it, and kissed them. Then taking her alabaster box of ointment she crushed it between finger and thumb, and instantly the room was filled with the richest odour. She poured the ointment out, every drop of it, upon those precious feet; again with caressing hands she spread it over them. Again she kissed His feet, laid her head upon them, and let her flowing hair cover them like a veil.

All the time He reclined there and allowed it. He moved not a muscle, but let her have her way to the uttermost. Quietly He leaned against the cushion. He was grateful for this homage, and His sympathy, pity and love for this woman at His feet was felt by all.

No one could mistake who the woman was. She was known to every man present, in fact, some of them may have been her accomplices in sin.

Even in happy Magdala she was notorious. Such a woman, the Law declared, must be avoided, for it was a legal defilement to be touched by a notorious sinner. That she should intrude into this company was incredible, and that she should be received as Jesus received her was an insult to everyone present, and put this new prophet in a very unfavourable light. Were He what He professed to be He would never allow this woman to touch Him. They had caught Him out at last. The guests had ample time for such thoughts as the scene before them was protracted, and Jesus showed no sign of wishing it to end.

JESUS TELLS A PARABLE

Jesus saw their thoughts clearly, but He deigned to help Simon, for Simon was not so prejudiced as the others. The anointing finished, Mary remained at His feet, content to remain there. She had not been repulsed: she knew that she was welcome, and that was enough for her. Jesus had won the woman and through this sinful woman He might win Simon. He turned towards Simon, and spoke with the voice of authority, yet His Words were gentle and winning.

“Simon, I have something to say to thee.” The rest of the company was ignored. Simon recognised the friendliness of His tone and words, and in like manner replied: “Master, say it.” The guests grew silent, eager to hear His defence. Jesus knew that Simon was a wealthy man with the influence that money brings. Jesus spoke to this man in a language He would understand.

“A certain man had two debtors. The one owed five hundred pence, the other fifty. And whereas they had not where—with to pay He forgave them both. Which therefore of the two loveth him most?”

A curious question surely to a business magnate, mixing up trade with love.

Simon was cautious in his reply. “He, I suppose, to whom he forgave more.” Jesus took him up at once. “Thou has answered rightly.”

Jesus had three things to do. First, He must show Simon how badly he failed as a host, yet must He do it with kindness. He must reinstate the sinner before Him, leaving no doubt in the minds of all that He knew what manner of woman she was. Thirdly, He must defend His own sinless honour. How beautifully He did all three!

He pointed to the woman lying at His feet and invited the Pharisee to look upon her.

“Dost thou see this woman?

I entered into thy house.

Thou gavest me no water for my feet.

But she with her tears hath washed my feet;

And with her hair hath wiped them.

Thou gavest me no kiss.

But she, since she came in,

Hath not ceased to kiss my feet.

My head with oil thou didst not anoint.

But she with ointment

Hath anointed my feet.”

“Because she hath loved much.”

He paused to let the words sink in. Simon was rebuked, but not in anger, and the unfortunate woman at His feet was preferred before him. Simon admitted his error, took it well, and hung his head in acknowledgement. Jesus saw the sorrow in his heart and seized the opportunity to teach His lesson. The woman had made up for the neglect of the host, but she had done it because she loved Jesus. Sinner she had been but greater than her sin was her love. Because she loved more she should be given more. She should receive the true reward of love, namely, to be forgiven all, she should be given love for love. Here is the truth that is at the root of Christianity, the personal love of Jesus Christ.

Again He spoke, a little louder that everyone should hear Him.

“Wherefore I say to thee

Many sins are forgiven her,

Because she hash loved much.

But to whom less is forgiven,

He loveth less.”

He leaned forward to the woman lying at His feet. Hitherto not a word had He spoken to her, or she to Him. Her actions were more expressive of her love than any words could be. Deeds, not words, prove the sincerity of love. He gave Himself to her as if she alone remained in the room. He spoke to her gently, almost in a whisper, but in the tense silence His words carried throughout the room. In a few little words He lifted from her the whole of her weary burden.

“Thy sins are forgiven thee.”

The poor woman at His feet heard them and felt herself a new woman. She had not expected this. She had learned to love this Man, and now that she had shown it in public, she was content to go away and take her burden of sins with her. Slowly she raised her head and looked up at Him, shaking the hanging hair from her eyes. His eyes were upon her, loving eyes, all understanding eyes, all-assuring eyes, eyes whose forgiveness and forgetfulness could never be doubted. She saw it all written there; she saw more. This Man she had begun to love as never before was more than Man. He had forgiven her the sins of her life and her love for Him filled her with ecstasy. But He brought her back to life, as He wished to conclude the scene. With a confidence that their love would endure, He said: “Thy faith hath made thee safe. Go in peace.”

Instantly she rose from the ground. It was easy to go now. She walked through the room not seeing those present. Let them scorn her, and draw aside their robes as she passed. Let them have their way; her heart was beyond it all, it had gone to Him Who had made her His friend. The rest mattered nothing at all. The woman in the city, a sinner, was the happiest woman in the world.

MARY’S GREAT SPIRIT

It took a great soul, a heroic spirit,to do what Mary did that day in Simon’s house. It took courage to face Christ, knowing what she herself was. She knew Him to be God. She had heard and seen enough to convince her that He was no impostor but what He claimed to be, and she knew that He asserted His right to be acclaimed as the Messias, and the Messias was God. Else, she would not have cared, or dared, to ask forgiveness of sin from Him. It did arouse the ire of the crowd that heard Christ speak her forgiveness that He should arrogate to Himself the pardoning power; Mary had no qualms about it at all, she took it for granted and why not? The Master that she saw at Naim raise the widow’s son to life, could be no less than the God He claimed He was. So, to Him she must go, and to Him she did go; but at what cost of selfconquest! She knew herself then, and despised what she knew. She felt all the agony of self-reproach that the repentant sinner must always feel when he is driven to contrast his vileness with the perfect sanctity and holiness of the God he has offended. Mary felt all of that to the full. She loved now in a fashion that cast a revealing light on her former facile loves and showed her what they were in truth, as God saw them. She was horrified with herself, disgusted too, realized that she was soiled and tainted mightily. So her mind was made up, and, as she walked towards Simon’s house, the thought that He might scorn her tormented her, but failed to arrest her walk, She answered Satan’s final argument by assuring herself that the Master could scarcely outdo in scorn what Mary felt for herself then. And then came a strange confidence that He would never spurn her.

Mary made her way to Christ and there, in the presence of all her little world, she made her great act of submission and humility. One thing and only one mattered, namely, that she make public reparation for the sin she had done in public. She must show the world that Mary the sinner would be sinner no more, but Mary the penitent, no longer the plaything of any man but a repentant and humble follower of Jesus, Whose love for her was great and noble enough to pierce through the filth to find and rescue the real Mary Magdalen.

HER HEROIC COURAGE

This was just the beginning of her courage, however, just the first act of will that she must maintain during the rest of her life. It took great courage to face her own soul. It was all easy enough now when she was keyed up to her great profession of faith and gratitude in her repentance; that was once in the face of the world that knew her otherwise. But what of those long days and longer nights when she was alone with her conscience, alone with her memories? How they must have burned and seared; how those tears of repentance and regret must have scalded her! As she looked into the past, and saw her own soul as it had been, no measure of self-reproach would be too great. But she had only to recall, in that hour of direst need, the Sacred Face in which she had read pardon and tolerance and kindliness, and the sun shone again, and she knew that vile though she had been by her own action, she was worthy and fine once more through Christ’s. The past, lamentable as it had been, was forever past; henceforth she need only love, and that she did with all the intensity of her passionate soul. It solved all the problems, lent all the strength that was needed for those silent hours when Christ was not at hand to console and to reassure. It is no wonder she spent all possible minutes at His feet when He came to the home in Bethany. She had chosen the better part, truly.

Another anxiety filled her heart. Would she compromise Christ before the public? After all, she knew her Jews. She knew, too, that no man dared accuse Christ of anything that involved His perfect purity of soul. Other things, yes, they presumed to charge Him with; He ate with sinners, He was a wine bibber, He stirred up rebellion, He refused to pay taxes, and a lot of other things they did say of Him, and some of the charges were believed. But lack of or failure in purity, well, that was just too absurd for even His enemies ever to attempt.

Yet, here He was, associating in friendship wish a reformed courtesan. All well and good to pardon, certainly; that was what He came to do, to save sinners and reform them. But certainly it was going to undreamed limits to make a friend of the erstwhile harlot, to frequent her home, to eat with her, to be beholden to her and her family for hospitality and service. What would the carping old world think of that, asked Mary’s reproachful heart? It was a painful consideration, but again, there was no room for doubt about the Master’s love for her, and that was the one thing that mattered. She loved, and was loved in return, and all the critics and the Pharisees could not change that one stupendous thing, and so far from her association with Him doing Him harm in the eyes of the people, it would but show them His great forbearance and tolerance in His forgiving the scarlet woman of the town.

THE SECOND ANOINTING BY MARY

The Gospel narrative says:

“Mary therefore when He was at meat, took an alabaster box of precious ointment, a pound of right spikenard, of great price. And breaking the alabaster box, she poured it out upon His Head as He was at table, and anointed the feet of Jesus and wiped His feetwith her hair. And the house was filled wish the odour of the ointment.” Then one of His disciples, Judas Iscariot, he that was about to betray Him, enraged at such extravagance, protested and said: “Why was not this ointment sold for three hundred penceand given to the poor?”

The Evangelist significantly adds: “Now he said this, not because he cared for the poor but because he was a thief and having the purse carried the things that were put therein.”

Jesus, knowing well what Judas would do within a fewdays, dealt very gently with him, saying: “Let her alone. Why do you trouble this woman? For she hath wrought a good work upon me. For the poor you have always with you and whensoever you will you may do them good. But Me you have not always. She hath done what she could. For in pouring this ointment upon My Body she is come beforehand to anoint My Body for the burial.”

Jesus concluded with this loving tribute to gratitude. “Amen, I say to you. Wheresoever this gospel shall be preached in the whole world, that also which she hath done shall be told for a memorial of her.”

HER ACT OF LOVE AND GRATITUDE

St. Augustine assures us that there were two anointings, one in the home of Simon the Pharisee and the other in the home of Simon the Leper, but there was only one woman, Mary Magdalen. Mary’s first anointing was a public act of repentance and sorrow, her second anointing was her parting act of love and gratitude before His death which she felt was near at hand.

For this anointing Mary selected the best and richest spikenard, such as few possessed even in well-to-do Bethania. Its price was equal to a year’s wages for a labourer. It was made from a rare plant that grew on the Himalayas. It was kept in an alabaster box that it might not evaporate; to pour it out the box had to be broken.

Mary entered the banquet hall of Simon: she saw Jesus and ran towards Him as He reclined at table. She stood above Him, all eyes upon her, and a deathly silence in the hall. Then came the sound of something breaking in her fingers, a little oil flowed out upon His hair, instantly the room was filled with a delicious aroma, one of the secrets of the East. Then with the memory of that other banquet in her heart she fell at His feet; that was her right place, and there she would stay. Tenderly she grasped those feet; not now with the tears of that day, but with the oil that still lingered in her hands she anointed them; lastly, as she had done then, so now, she loosened her hair and wrapped those feet in its folds.

Jesus was gentle with Judas. He would not blame him though He knew what another short week would reveal. What Mary had done, extravagant as it may seem to all present, she had done because she loved Him. Mary put no limits to her gifts. The Apostles may not understand now, but one day they would, and then they would vie with one another in preserving her name and what she had done that day. Of all the men and women who came into His life none should be better known to posterity, none should be more cherished, than Mary Magdalen.

THE TWO MARYS

Mary, the sinless Mother of God followed the example of Her Divine Son by openly accepting Mary of Magdala as a sister. This made the Magdalen all the more grateful for Christ’s pardon, that Mary, His spotless Mother, should have opened her arms and her heart to the other Mary who had been so far from spotless. What a scene imagination can paint when first the Virgin Mother welcomed Mary Magdalen to her own company and that of her Divine Son! But the Mother of Christ did more than just deign to receive the reformed harlot; she made a companion and intimate of her, called her friend and sister, loved her as such, just as Christ did. Humbling that association must have been for Magdalen as she contrasted her past with that of the Great Mother of them all. It did not disturb her, however, but only made her love Him more. There was room in the Sacred Heart for both Marys, the spotless and the reclaimed. Humbly grateful she loved all the more.

The two Marys were together that day on Calvary as on many another day. Their love of Him brought them to the place of crucifixion. There was no fear of any sort great enough to keep Mary Magdalen from the foot of the Cross that day. The One she loved, the only One she loved then, was dying; where else should one look for a lover like Mary Magdalen than just as close to the Cross as she could manage to get? Her passionate and emotional nature had not changed since she had given all her soul to Christ; it was passionate and emotional still; and so there were storms of grief, passionate sorrow, as she felt her heart turn to stone within her at the loss of her love.

Mary the Virgin, with her deeper and nobler soul, suffered even more; but she suffered in silence that agony which won for her the title of Queen of Martyrs. The Magdalen could show her grief, and what cared she for the howling, mocking, spitting mob that milled about the cross as she clung to it in the agony of her grief! They meant less than nothing; death would have been a welcome relief; she longed to die with Christ, just as His Mother did, and was equally denied that relief.

“MARY!” “RABBONI!”

Early on Easter morn Mary and the other women came to anoint the Body and finding the tomb empty they returned to tell the Apostles. St. Peter and St. John came and went, but Mary returned alone, unable to stay away from the tomb. There she stayed weeping her heart out at His loss. Someone approached her Whom she knew not, but took for the gardener. She made her pathetic plea to be shown where they had put the Body, and then Jesus, surely with a smile, said to her just one word: “Mary.” Something there was in the tone of that voice, or the look that accompanied it, that spoke to the inmost heart of the loving woman and she knew her Lord instantly. Impetuous and impulsive as always she rushed to Him, only to hear Him speak: “Do not keep clinging to Me for I am not going to run away.” It is with a loving smile that He restrains her, as He bade her to carry the news of His Resurrection to the Apostles in the city. What more He said to her is treasured up in her heart of hearts, triumphant now though it had been down in the depths of grief a minute before.

“Mary!” “Rabboni!” The two saluta tions spoke volumes, and out of the interview Mary garnered faith and trust and confidence to last her the rest of her years, the years she was to survive the Ascension, years she was to spend with her memories and her love, as she did penance for her sinful past, all now cancelled for the one supreme reason that she had loved much. She loved, and loving truly, loved on to the close, always the same impetuous, passionate, loving woman who once had been a harlot, but had come to love not men, not even a man, but God Himself, and in that love found healing and salvation.

HER RICH REWARDS

How richly the Lord rewarded Mary Magdalen even in this life! Her public act of reparation in the house of Simon, her sincere repentance and her great love won for her the companionship and friendship of Christ. Her home at Bethany became His home. Because of her He raises Lazarus from the dead. She sits at His feet, her heart filled with love and gratitude, and He will not heed Martha’s complaint that she is idle. No, she has chosen the better part.

Mary the spotless opens her immaculate heart to her and cherishes her as one of her closest friends. It is at Mary’s invitation that the Magdalen accompanies her to Calvary and remains with her to the bitter end. Returning from Calvary it is to Bethany Mary goes as to her own home to be with His dearest friends. The first recorded appearance of Christ after the Resurrection is to Mary Magdalen. He calls her by name and commands her to announce His Resurrection to the Apostles.

During the years that she lived after the Ascension she kept herself in the Presence of Jesus, Who filled her thoughts and gave her an inner peace of soul, and joy in living that was better and more satisfying than her passing joys as a sinner.

Let us invite Mary Magdalen to make the Stations of the Cross with us, helping us to see all that happened through her eyes. We shall learn from her on the Way of the Cross two great lessons, how He hates sin, and how He loves the repentant sinner. The Way of the Cross is the price of sin. If sin costs so much, surely it is the greatest evil man can commit. What must have been Mary’s thoughts as the soldiers dragged the cloak, stuck to His Wounds, off His Body! That, with the scourging, is the terrible payment for the sins of the flesh. What an embarrassment it must have been to Mary to see the Son of God exposed to that mocking rabble! The nails that pierced His feet and hands must have brought home to Mary how her own feet had walked in sin and her hands had been so polluted with lust. On Calvary she knelt at His feet pouring forth her tears of love and sorrow. She saw the broken Body laid in His Mother’s lap, emptied of Blood. It lay there desecrated, mauled, cut and torn, the pale victim of sin. No wonder her eyes are streaming when she remembers her sins.

And then the width and depth and height of His love comes to her. If He had not loved so much He could not have suffered so much. She recalls His own words: “Greater love than this no man hath, that a man lay down his life for his friends.”

Let us ask Mary Magdalen to share her love with us, and to convince us that love is the best reparation for sin. “Many sins are forgiven her because she hath loved much.”

HER LAST DAYS IN FRANCE

Mary Magdalen and her family were especially hated by the Pharisees because their home always had an open door for Christ and His disciples. After the miracle of Lazarus their lives were in danger, but were saved because of the family position and influence among the top Jewish aristocracy. We also get an impression of extreme prudence and reserve surrounding this family which was so dear to Jesus. The Evangelists St. Matthew, St. Mark, and St. Luke scarcely mention it and are careful not to identify it; they allude to it as one might talk about people, who, under a totalitarian regime, are exposed to immediate reprisals. Whereas, St. John, who wrote after the fall of Jerusalem, does not seem at all bound by the same prudence. In his account of the banquet in the home of Simon the Leper at Bethania he mentions Mary by name, and also Lazarus as one of the guests.

One day, sometime after the Ascension, the Jews laid hands upon the whole family of Bethania and loaded it on a ship without sail or rudder, and launched it at the mercy of wind and waves. The hand of God brought this ship to the shore of Provence, in Gaul. Lazarus founded the Church of Marseilles, Maximin, his brother, the church at Aix, Martha lived on the shores of the River Rhone, and Mary Magdalen ended her life in the solitude of La Sainte Baume.

Mary spent her days in a cavern on the side of the mountain, where she hung a Cross, praying fervently for all sinners, feeding her soul on the memory of her Lord Whose feet she never leaves, still faithful and constant in penitent love.

There is a tradition that seven times daily the angels who were her dear companions carried her to the summit of the mountain to pray. On the last day of her earthly life she went down towards the plain. Maximin came to meet her and gave her Christ’s Body in the Eucharist. She is released from the prison of the body and admitted at last to embrace His feet in everlasting glory. Her body awaits its glorious resurrection in the crypt of the Church which today bears the name of St. Maximin.

Nihil Obstat:

W. M. COLLINS Censor Deputatus

Imprimatur:

@ D. MANNIX,

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis 4th January. 1957

********

Saint Mary Mazzarello

P. SWAIN, S.D.B

INDEX

Mary Dominica Mazzarello, the eldest of the seven children of Joseph Mazzarello and Mary Calcagno, was born at Mornese, a small town in Piedmont, Italy, on May 9, 1837, and she was baptized in the parish church on the same day. Little is known of her first six years, but the Mazzarello family was ruled on sound Christian principles, and it is certain that Mary received a truly Christian upbringing from her infancy. It is interesting to note that this child who was destined to become the co-foundress of the daughters of Mary, Help of Christians, was born in the month of May, Our Lady’s month, that she died in the month of May 44 years later, and that she spent her first years under the shadow of a shrine which was vowed by the inhabitants of Mornese to Mary, Help of Christians, for protection during the cholera epidemic in 1836, and was blessed in 1845.

There were no schools in many Italian towns and villages in the early nineteenth century, and Mary had to rely on her parents for any instruction she received. She was given none of the book-learning common in our own schools, but her parents more than made up for this by thoroughly grounding their daughter in the Christian virtues which she was later to practise so heroically. Her mother and father concentrated on providing their daughter with a deep religious spirit, with a generous heart and with a strong character. They succeeded to such an extent that Mary became the model of all the girls in the district. Her father took care to shield his daughter from many worldly sights and amusements, which he considered detrimental to her Christian formation, and it was only with deep reluctance that he took her with him on rare occasions to the village fairs. This is all the more important when it is considered that a spirit of impiety was prevalent in Mornese and the surrounding district at the time, and it was quite easy for young people to be led astray; in fact it was difficult for them to remain good.

On her mother’s knee Mary learnt of the goodness of God and of His holy Mother, and lisped her first prayers; by means of the wonderful things of creation surrounding them, Mrs. Mazzarello also taught her to love and respect the great virtue of purity. It is indeed a pity that not all children are given such a truly Christian education in the home. The number of ruined lives that would be saved is incalculable.

FIRST COMMUNION AND CONFIRMATION

Mary was admitted to her first Communion at the age of ten, quite early in those days, and in one of her early

Communions she made a vow of virginity which she did not reveal to anyone until many years later. Certainly her mother’s instructions in the matter of purity were bearing fruit. Mary was confirmed two years later on September 30, 1849.

In 1849 a new curate came to Mornese -Father Dominic Pestarino. A young man of thirty-two, he was a native of

Mornese and he immediately set himself to root out evil influences and bring his lukewarm flock to a fervent state.

Mary attended his catechism classes in the parish church and Father Pestarino, a zealous and holy man, was destined by God to shape the whole fabric of her life. Although she could barely read and write, Mary possessed a most retentive memory, and with intense application she soon reached the top of the class, so that Father Pestarino could uphold her as an example to his other pupils. “I don’t want to be second to anyone,” Mary would say, “I’m not afraid of the boys and I’m going to beat them all.” And she did! But in it all Father Pestarino detected the seeds of self-love, which he set himself to root out before they became too strong. Mary showed herself rather stubborn by nature, but aided by prayer and grace and the wholesome advice of Father Pestarino in her weekly confession she was able to overcome these faults. Mary was already treading the way of perfection. Father Pestarino allowed her to go to

Communion daily, another rare occurrence in those days, and with the fervent reception of the Sacraments as its basis her life became one Intense striving after perfection.

Mary’s time was now spent between the church and her home, where she worked in the fields and vineyards with her father and assisted her mother with the many household tasks and the education of her younger brothers and sisters. In the fields she worked harder than her father’s hired labourers, and as they did not like being beaten by a girl, it was at times difficult for her father to obtain labour. “That girl is made of iron; it’s all we can do to keep up with her,” they would complain.

It took an hour to walk from the Mazzarello homestead to the church, and her parents often tried to dissuade her from going to daily Mass, particularly in the winter time when roads were muddy and colds were rife, as the long walk without breaking her fast, coupled with the hard work in the fields, threatened to undermine her strength, but Mary pointed to her extremely robust body and won her point. One morning her father was awakened by a noise at 2 A.M., and on investigating found that Mary and a younger sister were preparing to go to Mass. She had no clock, and fearing to miss Mass had got out of bed. “But it is only two o’clock,” remonstrated her father. “Good!” answered Mary, “We shall have more time to pray before Mass begins,” and off to Church went the two girls. If Mary arrived before the doors were open, she would kneel in prayer on the steps or, if others came early also, she would begin talking of religious things to prevent distractions.

On another occasion Mary was considerably delayed at church at a time when there was extra work to be done at home. Her mother chided her on her return, and suggested that on such occasions it might be better to stay away from

Mass, so that the work could be done. “Do not worry, mother,” replied Mary, “I shall work twice as hard and the work will be completed by evening.” And she did set herself to work twice as hard as usual, and the work was completed before nightfall.

Growing up in an atmosphere of intense piety and hard work, Mary learnt to become mistress of herself. She mortified herself in eating and drinking, she controlled her curiosity, she checked moments of impatience, she practised prompt obedience, she observed modesty in dress and speech and she sacrificed all vanity, to which she was strongly subject. She was impelled and strengthened in all these things by a great spirit of prayer, by the continual thought of the presence of God and by her well-performed practices of piety. She had a great natural dislike for confession, but she overcame her repugnances and was most candid with her confessor, with the result that she drew great strength from this Sacrament.

CHILD OF MARY

When Mary was eighteen, in 1855 to be precise, Father Pestarino, at the request of some of the girls of the parish and after mature consideration with learned theologians set up the Pious Union of the Children of Mary in his parish, and so started a movement that was soon to spread throughout Italy. As may be expected, Mary was one of the first to join this union. Father Pestarino admitted only the best girls of the parish, and they made such strides in the spiritual life that two years later the Bishop of the diocese gave his approval to the union, and himself came to Mornese to invest the members with the Medal of Mary Immaculate in a public ceremony. Mary now advanced at even greater pace along the road of perfection. The members of the union lived with their families, but they met daily, if possible, for Mass, for spiritual readings, for visits to the Blessed Sacrament and for other pious practices. A public confession of faults formed part of their weekly meeting, and it was at one of these meetings that Mary accused herself of the enormous crime of allowing a whole fifteen minutes to pass without thinking of God. But Mary was soon to need all her virtue, for a great trial was about to test her.

THE NURSE BECOMES ILL

In 1860 a typhus epidemic broke out around Mornese, and the whole family of one of Mary’s uncles was stricken with the disease. Father Pestarino realized that only Mary could nurse the family back to health.

He obtained the reluctant consent of her family to send her to nurse them, and she humbly obeyed, even though she protested that she was sure that she would catch the dreaded disease. In a few weeks the family had recovered, and Mary was at death’s door. It was some weeks before she was out of danger and months of convalescence followed. It was a sadly weakened Mary who returned home and her father refused to allow her to work in the fields. Mary was disheartened for she could not bear to be idle, and she determined to turn to needlework, as this was an occupation which would not require great physical strength. Mary thought that if she could learn needlework herself, she could later teach the girls of the township to sew; but there was also at the back of her mind that she might thereby be able to teach them their Christian religion, and so lead them with her along the paths of virtue. Her vocation was being shaped.

One day as she was walking in the fields at the highest point in the district, she was startled to see before her a very large building which she was certain did not exist. She rubbed her eyes; she was certain that she was not dreaming; yet there it was.

She informed Father. Pestarino of the occurrence and, wise man of God that he was, he told her to forget about such day dreams and not to he so foolish as to speak any more about them. Yet later she recognized the building that she then saw as the Motherhouse of the Daughters of Mary, Help of Christians.

TEACHER OF NEEDLEWORK

With Petronilla, another member of the Pious Union, Mary spent six months working with the tailor of the town, and then another six months with the town’s only seamstress. So proficient did the girls become that on the departure of the seamstress to another town they were able to take over her business. Soon there were a number of young apprentices wishing to learn dress-making, and the girls had some difficulty in renting quarters large enough to accommodate them all. Work came in quite fast, and it is interesting to note that Mary would not make garments that she did not consider sufficiently modest. What would she say then of many of the fashions of today? The two sewing mistresses undertook to shelter two little girls whose mother had died, and whose father was the counterpart of our modern commercial traveller. Petronilla began to live on the premises and look after them, but Mary continued to go home each evening, despite the fact that she would very much like to have remained and led a common life with the others. The humble beginnings of a great work were thus being laid, when the great apostle of Turin, the father of thousands of homeless boys, appeared on the scene.

DON BOSCO MEETS FATHER PESTARINO

For some time Don Bosco had been urged to organize some institution which would do for girls what his Salesians were doing for boys. In one of his dreams he had seen a town square full of girls appealing to him for help, and a majestic lady had asked him to look after them for they were her daughters. Whilst this problem was on his mind he had the good fortune to meet Don Pestarino at a meeting of priests. They walked part of the way home together, and made themselves known to each other. Don Pestarino had a small group of girls seeking to perfect their lives and to help others, whilst Don Bosco was seeking to establish an order of nuns to work for girls. Both priests felt that their meeting was not a chance one but that it had been arranged by God. Some more meetings followed at Turin, and Father Pestarino became so infatuated with Don Bosco and his work that he sought to become a Salesian; Don Bosco was willing to accept him and told him that his obedience would be to remain at Mornese and look after the girls of the Pious Union of Mary Immaculate. In bidding him farewell, Don Bosco gave Father Pestarino a medal each for Mary and Petronilla, and a card for Mary; on the card was written: “Keep on praying hard; but do as much good as you can for young girls; do everything possible to prevent sin, even if it is only one venial sin.”

Don Bosco’s message inflamed Mary and her companion with new zeal. Hitherto they had concentrated on prayer and practices of piety; now they turned more directly to the Salesian preventive system, the prevention of sin by keeping the girls fully occupied and shielding them from occasions of sin. All the girls were urged to attend Mass daily if possible. Work began soon after Mass. Mary encouraged the girls to add “May Jesus Christ be praised” to the greeting they gave each other every morning. For the first half-hour work was done in complete silence and then there was a short meditation or some spiritual reading. The Hail Mary was recited as each hour struck. Talking was allowed after the first half-hour, but Mary forbade the girls to talk of frivolous things or to talk in whispers. At ten o’clock all returned home for dinner, it being customary at Mornese to dine as early as that, and work was resumed at noon. During the afternoon the Rosary was said by all, and at afternoon- tea time the girls were permitted to go to the church for a visit to the Blessed Sacrament, after which work was continued until dark. Mary continually urged the girls to remember the presence of God, and she exhorted them to make every stitch an act of the love of God.

Later Mary and Petronilla used to gather the girls on Sundays in the courtyard of the house where they rented their rooms and there they instructed them in the Catechism or engaged them in honest, healthy recreation. They also organized walks into the neighbouring countryside, and took the girls in a group to Church services. Without realizing it they were engaging themselves in the Festiva Oratory work of Don Bosco.

DON BOSCO COMES TO MORNESE

In the late summer of 1864 Don Bosco himself came to Mornese, bringing with him some of his boys and the band of the Oratory at Turin. The town turned out in force to give the party a royal welcome, and the townspeople all helped to lodge and feed the party during its stay at Mornese. Don Bosco spoke to the Children of Mary, and expressed surprise at finding in those simple countryfolk such detachment from worldly things and such enthusiasm for heavenly things. He left after a stay of four days, but not before he had promised to send his Salesians to conduct a boys’ school which was to be built at Mornese. Father Pestarino blessed the foundation stone of this school, in the presence of all the inhabitants of the town in 1865, and Don Bosco sent a special representative from Turin for the ceremony.

COMMUNITY LIFE

Shortly afterwards Father Pestarino determined to make available to the girls of the Union of Mary Immaculate, a house which he had built for himself near the church. Some of the girls of the Union decided to leave their families and live there; others decided to remain with their families. Mary’s parents were quite firm in their intention not to let her join the community, but Father Pestarino brought all his influence to bear on Mr. Mazzarello and the ageing gentleman who had a great respect and affection for the priest, capitulated. He then persuaded his wife, and Mary was free to go.

“But what will you do?” her mother asked Mary as she was leaving, “You will die of hunger.”

“If I am in need I shall return,’” answered Mary, “ and I am sure that you will not shut the door in my face.”

And so with three other girls Mary took up residence in Father Pestarino’s house near the church. “You will live here on trial,” Father Pestarino had told them, “Continue as you have been doing in the workshop and we shall see what the future will bring; but remember quite well that if anyone wishes to return home she is quite free to do so.”

The life of poverty, work and prayer attracted other girls to join the community, but not all of these persevered. At first the girls lived most poorly; they had to work hard to support themselves, and often there was not enough to eat. But Mary was not to be discouraged by such hardships; she encouraged the others to persevere, and the blessing of Almighty God was evidently upon the little community. People who had earlier forecast an early end to the venture, began to help the girls when they saw the exemplary lives they led. As the numbers grew, the girls themselves asked for a superior. Father Pestarino told them to choose one for themselves, and Mary was the unanimous choice.

In December, 1867, Don Bosco again came to Mornese, this time for the blessing of the chapel of the new college. Such was the attraction he had for the people of Mornese that, although he arrived at 1 A.M., a large number of the inhabitants greeted him in the streets. Later in the day Don Bosco gave a conference to the members of the young community, and he felt sure that here was his projected congregation of nuns in embryo.

In the ensuing years Don Bosco and Father Pestarino met very often to confer about the sisters, and eventually in 1871, Don Bosco with his Chapter in Turin decided upon the foundation of his order of nuns. A convent was necessary for them and the proposed school was selected. Father Pestarino was taken aback at this decision, as the people of the town had set their hearts upon a boys’ school, and he feared that they would not welcome Don Bosco’s decision; in fact he feared reprisals. Don Bosco informed Pope Pius IX of his designs; the Pope not only consented to the plans, but actually encouraged Don Bosco. He told him to draw up the constitutions of the Congregation and give them a trial, stating that the sisters would depend on the Salesians in the same way as the Daughters of Charity depended on the Vincentians.

Don Bosco drafted the rules and gave them to Father Pestarino, instructing him that in selecting applicants he should accept only those who were obedient even in the smallest things, who were not offended when corrected and who showed a spirit of mortification. On January 29, 1872, Father Pestarino gathered the sisters together for the election of a chapter, and Mary was chosen as superior. In her humility she wished to resign the office immediately, but she was persuaded to accept it with the title of Vicar until Don Bosco would send a superior. Don Bosco had been unable to attend the ceremony as he was at the time seriously ill in Turin.

It was at this time also that the Municipal Council of Mornese, of which Father Pestarino was a member, decided to pull down the old dilapidated presbytery and build a new one. In seeking a residence for Father Pestarino the Council chose the sisters’ house, and transferred the sisters for the time being to the partly finished school. Perhaps it was a ruse to save face for Father Pestarino, but it caused an uproar in the town and the sisters were unpopular for many years to come.

One of the many trials and tribulations the sisters had to suffer was the poor food. Breakfast consisted only of dry bread. They seldom saw milk, eggs, cheese and fish; they never ate meat. Yet Sister Mazzarello was so mortified that she did not appease her hunger even on feast days. None of the sisters complained; they deemed it a great privilege to be chosen by God to undergo such sufferings. Sufficient time was given to prayer and spiritual exercises, but by far the greater part of the day was devoted to hard work, and even during their recreations the sisters carried materials for the workmen who were finishing the college building. Washing clothes at the public washing place of Mornese was one of their most frequent tasks, and Mary, although Superior, always gave the lead, choosing the hardest and dirtiest tasks for herself.

As yet the sisters wore no special habit, and Don Bosco, when asked what they would wear, would reply: “For the time being let them be satisfied with the habit of virtue; later on we shall see.” Eventually a brown habit with a blue veil was chosen; professed sisters wore a crucifix and the novices a medal of Mary Immaculate. And all this time Sister Mazzarello kept asking for the Superior, Don Bosco was going to send, but Don Bosco had no intention of changing her. He planned instead to give the Congregation a more definite shape, and arranged for a retreat to begin on July 31, 1872, and to be followed by the first professions of those who were ready for this step, and by the clothing of new novices. At last the Congregation of the Daughters of Mary, Help of Christians was a reality.

FIRST VOWS

The Bishop of the diocese was at Mornese at the end of July, and he himself wished to preside personally at the retreat. When Don Bosco was informed of the presence of his Lordship, he declined go to Mornese out of respect for the bishop, although he had promised to be present at the ceremony. The bishop thereupon sent his secretary to bring Don Bosco at any cost, and the man of God humbly acquiesced to the bishop’s wishes. As, however, Don Bosco could not afford to remain long at Mornese, the ceremony of profession and clothing was advanced from the 8th of August to the 5th, the feast of Our Lady of the Snow, and the retreat was finished as scheduled. The bishop himself presided at the ceremony, at which eleven sisters, including Sister Mazzarello, took the vows of poverty, chastity and obedience for three years, and fifteen novices were clothed in the religious habit. The bishop then motioned to Don Bosco to speak, and although the latter endeavoured to withdraw, he obeyed and spoke to the sisters from the very depths of his heart. “You will suffer,” Don Bosco told them, “and I see with my own eyes that people will persecute you, will deride you; even your very relatives will turn their backs on you. But do not be surprised at all this. If you keep yourselves humble and mortified, you will become holy and in time you will do much good to many others. The world is full of snares; but if you live according to your rule you will do great good to your own souls and to those of your neighbours.” Sister Mazzarello was appointed Superior, but given the title of Vicar, “because,” said Don Bosco, “the real superior is Our Lady herself.”

A religious institute is blessed if it is governed well from its very inception, and in the choice of superior, the Institute of the Daughters of Mary, Help of Christians, was singularly fortunate. Sister Mazzarello despite her lack of learning possessed definite ability for governing her community, as may be seen from what Pope Pius XI said of her in 1936: “This small, simple, poor country girl, whose education had been most rudimentary, showed quite early that she possessed a talent, one of the greatest of talents-the talent for governing. Her choice by St. John Bosco was proved not only in the firm, secure foundation of the new family of Mary, Help of Christians, but also in the marvellous and rapid growth and spread of the flourishing institute.”

SISTER MAZZARELLO, THE WOMAN

Sister Mazzarello was a little above average height, well built and possessed of very sharp features. She had a high forehead, a regular nose, and penetrating, lively chestnut eyes. She had a medium sized, regular mouth, and her cheekbones, upper lip and chin were all slightly raised. Her complexion was pale and slightly brown, and she coloured up quite quickly whenever she did violence to herself.

Spiritually Sister Mazzarello was inclined to piety. She received the Sacraments frequently, was most devoted to Mary, Help of Christians and showed herself obedient even in the smallest things. She shunned ease and luxury, and if obedience had not checked her she would have worn herself out with mortifications and penances. In matters of purity she was beyond all reproach. She was ready to check evil where- ever it broke out, and in her work for God and souls she was not affected by human respect in the least degree. Although she could hardly read or write, she spoke well and clearly, and it often seemed that she was inspired by the Holy Ghost. She was always ready to receive advice from her superiors, and asked her companions to advise her when she failed. She walked erect with her head slightly inclined forward, and her actions were determined, but dignified and simple. When speaking of heavenly things she often became radiant and her face took on a heavenly look. Everything about her helped to infuse some of her zeal and love for God into others. Walking or talking she was accustomed to hold her crucifix in her left hand. She was extremely active but performed every action calmly and recollectedly. She was full of charity towards everyone she met, and quickly gained a stranger’s confidence. She studied how to lead souls to be virtuous and always spoke well of her neighbour, preferring to change or break off conversation rather than say or hear anything uncharitable.

Mother Mazzarello, as the sisters now began to call her, was the only one who thought that she was unfitted to be the superior of the growing community, and she continually besought Don Bosco to change her. One of the sisters, who had been fortunate in receiving a good education, began instructing the other sisters so that they could in their turn teach girls in the future schools of the Institute, and in simple humility the superior, Mother Mazzarello, took her place in the benches with the other sisters, and showed herself a most attentive pupil. It was not long before the Institute was able to boast several teachers with diplomas, and a school was established for the girls of the district.

Don Bosco often sent women with likely vocations to Mornese, and if they were well educated Mother Mazzarello welcomed them most warmly as her future successors, but Don Bosco had sent them to learn obedience, not to govern. The real family spirit which existed in the growing community of professed nuns, novices, postulants and students was in a large measure due to the influence of the Mother Superior herself. Don Bosco had obtained the services of two of the Sisters of St. Anne, an experienced congregation working in Turin, to advise the community at Mornese for some months, but after some time there the sisters declared, “Let us go back to Turin, this superior needs no direction in virtue.”

By the spring of 1874 there were in the community, 14 professed members, 8 novices, 8 postulants and 17 school girls, and Father Pestarino was able to write to Don Bosco: “What consoles me most is the real union and spirit of charity, the harmony and the holy joy which reigns among all. They are edifying in their piety, are really detatched from the world and don’t utter the least complaint in their work.” Don Bosco later declared to Father Cagliero, a future Salesian missionary and Cardinal, “Mother Mazzarello has special gifts from God. There are virtues in abundance to make up for her scanty learning. She is prudent, has wonderful insight into things, and a gift for governing, based on kindness, charity and unshaken faith in God.”

DEATH OF FATHER PESTARINO

The sisters were successfully overcoming the opposition of the inhabitants of Mornese when a fresh trial assailed the community. On May 15, 1874, Father Pestarino was taken suddenly ill. Mother Mazzarello was informed immediately and hastened to his bedside.

“Where are the sisters and the girls?” asked Father Pestarino.

“In church praying for you.”

“Good . . . good . . . courage, my children. Have confidence in God.”

Shortly after saying this Father Pestarino was dead. The whole district was heartbroken at the loss of this good, kind and pious pastor. As for the sisters, many thought that they would not be able to carry on, but they placed all their confidence in God and the help of Don Bosco.

“Don Bosco! He is in Turin and has too many boys to maintain, and too much to do to look after you.”

But Don Bosco did look after the sisters. Father John Cagliero arrived the following morning for the funeral of Father Pestarino, and shortly afterwards his cousin was appointed spiritual director of the sisters. On his death in September of the same year, Father James Costamagna was appointed to the office.

Don Bosco came in person to visit the sisters on June 14, and on the following day received the first vows of eight novices, and clothed fifteen postulants. Then he gathered the sisters together for the election of a superior general and chapter, both essential if the Congregation was to expand as he planned. As expected, Mother Mazzarello was unanimously elected Superior General, and realizing this time that it certainly was the will of God, she did not try to excuse herself.

SUPERIOR GENERAL

Mother Mazzarello now devoted her whole time and attention to the direction of the institute. “Oh, my companions,” she told the sisters, “What a joy it is for us poor country folk of Mornese to become the spouses of Jesus Christ and the daughters of Don Bosco and Mary, Help of Christians. 0 my dear Lord, what a grace! What a great grace! We thank you for it.” “She practised the most profound humility at all times especially when reproved,” Father Costamagna tells us, “Sometimes I purposely tested her rather severely; she kept silent and complained to no one; she even suffered her humiliation joyfully as if the most natural thing in the world had happened. Her obedience was perfect. A word from Don Bosco or the local superior was law for her, and immediately the order was made known, she herself obeyed and made the others obey if necessary-blindly, cheerfully, promptly.”

One day Mother Mazzarello and some of the sisters were out walking, when they came across a poorly-clad, hungry little girl of five or six, who touched their hearts, and the good mother immediately gave the little waif her portion of food for the journey. Then she sought out the sister with the best cloak, and forthwith proceeded to cut it up for a garment for the girl. The pieces were distributed among the sisters to sew together, whilst she herself gave the little girl a lesson in catechism and prayer. When the garment was finished she put it on the girl, and then gave her the odd pieces of material, telling her to take them to her mother so that the garment could be repaired when it began to wear. This incident shows not only the charity of Mother Mazzarello, but also her great care not to waste the least thing.

At Mornese Mother Mazzarello was accustomed to ask the time of the different members of her community whenever she met them during the day. The inexperienced would answer that they did not know or they would run to look at a clock, but she herself would answer with a smile: “It is time to love Jesus; let us love Him with all our heart.” Among other favourite sayings of hers to her community may be cited the following: At the hour of death you will be very happy to have made this sacrifice;” “What have you done for Jesus today?”; “What are you thinking of at this very moment?”; “What resolution have you made at meditation this morning?” All this was not intended to reprove her subjects, but to make them remember the presence of God and the great reward that awaited them if they remained faithful to their vocations.

Learning that Don Bosco had a practice of giving his boys a “good-night” sermonette, before they retired to rest, Mother Mazzarello imitated him also in this, and spoke briefly but fervently to her sisters before they retired, even though she always experienced great difficulty in public speaking.

And here is recalled another delightful little practice of hers which shows the simple confidence that this humble soul placed in the Mother of God. At night after everybody had retired to rest, she would lock the doors and place the key at the foot of the statue of Mary, Help of Christians, whom she looked upon as the real Superior of the Institute. Although she suffered from very severe headaches she took little food, worked hard, rose before four in the morning and mortified herself continually during the day, but she sedulously looked after the welfare of the other sisters, especially when they were ill.

Mother Mazzarello showed remarkable insight in accepting or rejecting those who wished to join the Congregation. Catherine Daghero became a postulant with the best of dispositions, but she soon began to fear that she could not live the life of the sisters, and did not wish to carry on. “You must remain here,” Mother Mazzarello told her, “the more you suffer now the happier you will be later on and the more good you will do. When you have received the habit all these things will disappear.” The day before her clothing Catherine was most upset, but Mother Mazzarello was adamant and insisted that she should receive the habit. Catherine obeyed and at the moment the habit was put on her all her worries disappeared. She became a most fervent sister and made such progress in the spiritual life that six years later she succeeded Mother Mazzarello as Superior General of the Congregation. PERPETUAL VOWS

On August 28, 1875, the first perpetual professions were made, Mother Mazzarello being among the number of those who vowed themselves to God for life. After the ceremony Don Bosco spoke of rapid development in the near future, and fired the sisters with enthusiasm for the missions at a time when he himself was preparing to send his first missionaries abroad. The promised development took place and within the space of two years the sisters had ten foundations. Writing to Father Cagliero who was in South America with the first band of Salesian missionaries, Mother Mazzarello described the new foundations, and then naively added: “I forgot to tell you of the house which we have in Heaven; it is always open and the Rector of this House makes decisions without having recourse to either Superiors or Chapters. He just takes anyone He wants, and has already taken seven sisters.”

MISSIONARY EXPEDITIONS

In September, 1877, the first expedition of sisters set sail for South America. Don Bosco sent them first to Rome where he arranged an audience with the Pope. Mother Mazzarello accompanied them to the eternal city although she greatly feared that such an ignorant Superior General would give his Holiness a very bad impression of the Daughters of Mary, Help of Christians. As may be well imagined, the Pope was most impressed with her virtues, particularly with her great humility. Mary later accompanied the sisters to the boat at Genoa, and with true maternal solicitude inspected all their cabins carefully before bidding them farewell.

Because of the toll the climate of Mornese was having on the health of the sisters -several had died, and others had been seriously ill-Don Bosco decided to change the mother house to a more healthy locality. Nizza Montferrato was selected, so a convent evacuated by the Capuchins in 1855 was acquired there, and the changeover, begun in 1878 was completed early in the following year. The school at Mornese was sold; perhaps it was a punishment from God for the continued hostility and indifference towards the sisters during the early years of the Congregation.

Ten more missionary sisters sailed for South America on January 1, 1880. One of the sisters, Emilia Borgna, was very delicate and the leader of the expedition was not in favour of taking her to America, but to all her remonstrances Mother Mazzarello replied: “Take her, for you will find that she will do more work than you think she can do, and she will succeed very well indeed.” Sister Emilia went and spent more than fifty years in South America working for the poor and abandoned girls of that continent.

In August, 1880, the sisters held their first general chapter. Although Mother Mazzarello had hoped to be relieved of the burden of office, she was re-elected Superior General. It would appear that she already had a presentiment of her approaching death for she said to one of the sisters who had insisted that she should be again elected as Superior General, “No, because half way through next year you will suffer inconvenience at having to put someone in my place.”

Early in 1881 she farewelled yet another group of missionaries. This time the sisters proceeded to Turin for a solemn farewell in the Basilica of Mary, Help of Christians on January 18. On the night of January 24, Mother Mazzarello who was accompanying the missionaries as far as Marseilles, woke up the sister who slept in the room with her, and told her that Sister Arecco had died. The sister had been ill in bed when the missionaries left Nizza Montferrato. In the morning all the sisters were asked to pray for the soul of the departed sister, and the announcement was confirmed with a telegram later in the morning. But that is not all. Sister Arecco had an intense desire to speak with Mother Mazzarello before she died, and the latter was away from Nizza Montferrato. However, Sister Arecco suddenly sat up and said that she saw her beloved Superior. The sisters present at her bedside saw nothing, but Sister Arecco, having seen Mother Mazarello, was happy to die. Perhaps it was a case of bilocation!

Some days later Mother Mazzarello spoke to the missionary sisters and told them that one night as she was going to sleep, Sister Arecco had appeared to her.

“But you are dead,” stammered Mother Mazzarello, “How is it that you are here? Perhaps you are in Purgatory, tell me what you want, but do not frighten me. Have you saved your soul?”

“Yes, by the mercy of God, but I am in Purgatory.”

“And will you be there long?”

“Only until Easter, thanks to the prayers of the community; but if you will pray for me I shall go to Heaven earlier. The Lord has allowed me to come to tell you this.”

“I shall do that willingly. Now tell me my defects so that I can correct them. Go on, tell me what there is in me that displeases God.”

“And she told me before she disappeared,” concluded Mother Mazzarello. The great humility of their superior in her simple exposition of what had happened made a great impression on the sisters.

Although Mother Mazzarello was far from well she saw the sisters off at Marseilles on February 6, and then on her return to the convent in Marseilles, she had to go immediately to bed. The doctor diagnosed her case as advanced pleurisy, and it was not until March 17 that she was able to appear amongst the community again. She expressed a desire to end her days at the Mother House at Nizza Montferrato, and accordingly on March 19 she set out for Italy via Nice, where she met Don Bosco and asked him bluntly whether she would be cured.

Don Bosco in reply told her a story.

One day Death came and knocked at the door of a convent. The porteress opened the door.

“Come with me,” said Death. But the porteress replied that she could not go for there was no one to take her place. Then Death went into the convent and invited all those he met to go with him; sisters, teachers, postulants, students, even the cook. But all answered that they could not accept the invitation, because they had too much to do. And so Death went to the Superior, and said: “Come with me.” Even the Superior put forward her excuse, but this time Death insisted: “The Superior must give good example to all the others, even on the road to eternity; come, for I cannot possibly accept your excuses.”

What could she do? The Superior bowed her head and followed.

Mother Mazzarello listened attentively to the story and understood it perfectly, but so as not to alarm the sisters present with her she made pretence to treat it as a joke.

DEATH OF MOTHER MAZZARELLO

On March 28 Mother Mazzarello reached Nizza Montferrato to the great joy of the whole community. She was apparently well, but on April 15 she was again confined to her bed. Although her strength was gradually failing she continued to take an active part in the direction of the Congregation. On April 27 she received Extreme Unction and the end appeared near, but she lingered on, and by May 5 there were signs of improvement. “I shall die willingly,” she said, “but the Lord would please me very much if he would leave me in the world until Monday (May 9) . . . my birthday . . . I shall be 44 . . . then there is still much to suffer before dying.”

During these last days she turned instinctively to the Crucifix and the sufferings of her Divine Lord. “Yes, Lord, send me great sufferings, but also give me patience and strength to bear them. Oh my Jesus, I want to love you now and forever.” Father Cagliero arrived on May 10 with strict injunctions to summon Don Bosco when he saw that the end was near, but as Mother Mazzarello appeared to rally, Father Caghero decided to return to Turin. On May 14 he was preparing to say Mass at 4 A.M., before departing, when at 3.45 he was summoned to the bedside of the dying nun. He administered the last rites, and then she said to those around her: “I am not sorry to die; in fact I die willingly.” Father Caghero began the prayers for the departing soul, Mother Mazzarello asked one of the sisters to help her, then waved her hand and with a smile on her lips whispered, “Goodbye, goodbye, I shall see you in Heaven.” She fixed her eyes on the Crucifix. “Jesus, Mary and Joseph, I recommend my soul to you . . . Jesus, Mary . . . Joseph . . .”

Mother Mazzarello was dead. GLORIFICATION

At the death of their foundress the Daughters of Mary, Help of Christians numbered 230 working in 28 houses, of which six were in South America. By 1950 the number had grown to 12,000 sisters with nearly 1000 houses, and the sisters were working in all five continents except Australia. The heroicity of the virtues of Mother Mary Mazzarello was proclaimed by Pope Pius XI in 1936. On November 20, 1938, the same Pontiff beatified her, and on June 24, 1951, his Holiness Pope Pius XII, gloriously reigning, solemnly canonized Mother Mary Mazzarello, and she became the second member of the Salesian family to be enrolled among the canonized Saints of the Church. A humble peasant girl who possessed little learning and shunned the world and its maxims, has achieved greater and more lasting fame than the millions of worldly men who sought only to obtain worldly honour and to have their names and deeds written boldly in the pages of history. She will be remembered when they are long forgotten. Characteristic of the humble life of St. Mary Dominica Mazzarello were the last words she directed to her spiritual children: “Love one another, practice true charity, humility and obedience. Teach the girls to be frank and sincere.”

Nihil obstat:

W. M. COLLINS, Censor Dioc.

Imprimatur:

@ DANIEL MANNIX,

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis.

Saint Maximilian Kolbe

BY FR. TERESIO BOSCO, S.D.B

INDEX

WHITE FLOWERS AND RED FLOWERS

“It was tea-time, and my son had not come home. Father sat sullenly at the table. His two brothers, Francis and Joseph, ate in silence, as always when they felt a storm was brewing. They had almost finished, when the door opened and Raymond entered; dishevelled and dirty, like a little gypsy. Father raised his head and the storm broke.

““Is this the time to come home? Look at him! Filthy good for nothing. A wonderful consolation you are to your mother who works all day to send you out dressed as you shouldbe.”

“Raymond listened to the rest of the storm with bowed head then sneaked into the bedroom. It was taken for granted that he went without tea that night.

“Next day, as I was mending his torn jacket and I saw him standing dejectedly beside me, I sighed and asked: “My child, what are we going to do with you?”.

“Raymond burst into tears and ran to his room. I caught a glimpse of him a short time later. He was kneeling in front of the little altar of the Madonna. He came out much later lost in thought. For some days he remained like that: long periods of silence, sometimes bursting into tears. This was not normal for him, and finally I took him aside and asked him firmly: “What has happened? Are you still sulking because of your father’s outburst?”

“He shook his head.

““What then? What has happened? Why such a long face all the time?”.

“Raymond hesitated as he answered me: “Mummy, when you said, “What are we going to do with you?” I went to Our Lady and I said nearly the same words to her: “What’s going to happen to me?” And the Madonna opened her hands and showed me two garlands: one of white flowers, and one of red flowers. She smiled at me and asked me which one I wanted. I don’t know how, but I understood that the white garland meant purity, and the red one the sacrifice of my life. I did not know which one to take, and then I asked her for both. The Madonna smiled at me again, then I saw her again just as she is seen in the picture. This is all true, mummy, I have not made up one single word.”

“After he had told me, all this, Raymond became happy and calm, as if he had got something off his chest. I have never told these words of my son to anyone, not even to his father. But now that I know how he died, I believe that I should tell you, his friends and confreres.”

The mother of Father Maximilian Kolbe wrote this letter when she heard that her son had been martyred by the Nazi tyrants in the concentration camp at Auschwitz.

HE WANTED TO PREACH TO THE BIRDS, BUT THEY FLEW AWAY

Giulio Kolbe and Maria Dobrowska had set up house in the small town of Zdunska-Wola, in the part of Poland then under the Russia of the Tsars. That was way back in 1891 and Giulio and Maria had only one source of income: strong arms and a determination to work.

They began by renting a large room which they divided into two by means of a curtain. One part was for the two looms, which also were on hire, with a small corner to serve as a kitchen; the other half contained their bed, their wardrobe and a small altar on which was placed a picture of the Black Madonna of Czestochowa. That family had a second source of income: a great faith in the Lord and a tender devotion towards the Madonna.

Every month, Giulio went to the market at Lodz and purchased skeins of wool from the Jewish merchants; then they worked energetically at the looms from dawn to dusk. When their first child Francis was born they placed his cradle alongside the looms and his mother sang lullabies to him as her quick hands moved the shuttles back and forth.

Raymond was born in 1894 and he also was to spend the first months listening to the accompaniment of the looms. According to his mother, Raymond was quite a lively boy and quick-witted but a bit spiteful. He was highly imaginative. One day he heard the story of St. Francis, and then ran into the garden outside the house to preach to the birds himself. He was quite upset when the birds promptly flew away instead of flocking to listen to him. John Bosco was another saint who captured his imagination. His mother read him the story of the time little Johnny Bosco broke the bottle of Oil and then cut a cane with his pen-knife so that his mother could punish him. Some days later, his mother saw him approaching to hand her a stick prepared with his own penknife: “I haven’t broken a bottle of oil,” he said dejectedly, “but a jar of jam. If you want to punish me. . . .” It took his mother all her time to refrain from laughing.

THREE HANDKERCHIEF-SIZED PLOTS

When Joseph arrived, there were three mouths to feed every day. Father decided to leave Zdunska-Wola and settle in Pabianice, where there was a larger market and hence greater opportunities for a weaver to sell his wares.

This time they rented a whole house; it was small but it was all theirs. The father engaged a man to work the looms. Mother was able to open a small shop to sell all their merchandise and with part of the proceeds rent three handkerchief-sized plots of land where she grew onions and salad vegetables.

As their earnings increased, father rented a larger house and mother opened a better shop. By dint of plenty of elbow grease they could do so much. Raymond noted how calm, yet how active, his parents were and from them he learnt a lesson which he was to practise all his life: if you are prepared to work hard and to stick at it, poverty is no great obstacle. You can do great things as well.

Father and Mother were Franciscan tertiaries and they had wonderful faith. Mother had offered Francis, her first son, to the Madonna; if the Madonna would accept him and make a priest of him, she was prepared to undertake any sacrifice to help him follow this vocation. As secondary schooling was not free and as there was not enough money to pay for them all through High School, Raymond and Joseph would have to be weavers like their father (it was to turn out just the opposite: Francis was to be the weaver, Raymond and Joseph became priests. God does not always see things as we do).

There was always a lamp burning in front of the altar of the black Madonna. The Kolbe family often gathered in front of it to whisper prayers or to pray in silence. It was there that Raymond in the quiet of the evening learnt from his mother how to be alone with the Madonna for lengthy periods of time.

PROVIDENCE IN THE SHAPE OF A PHARMACIST

Francis was in First Year in the only high school in the town. It was then that the hour of Providence struck. Mother sent Raymond to the pharmacy to buy some medicinal herbs. Mr. Kotowski, dressed in his white coat, went up the steps to get the jar and asked: “How are the studies going, Raymond?.”

“I am no longer studying, Mr. Kotowski. Francis is the only one going to high school. My parents haven’t enough money to pay for both of us to go to school.”

The pharmacist got down from his stepladder and looked Raymond straight in the eye. “And what are you going to do with the fine head God has placed on your shoulders?”

“I am going to help my father.”

Mr. Kotowski shook his head. “Listen, Raymond, tell your mother to let you come to me every morning. I still have the books my son used when he studied. If you are willing to apply yourself, I”11 teach you enough Latin and Mathematics so that next year you’ll be able to join your brother in Second Year.”

“That day,” Mrs. Kolbe said later, “Raymond rushed straight home.” Both father and mother agreed, and every morning the boy went to school in the back room of the pharmacy. Mr. Kotowski was indeed the hand of Providence, and the following year Francis and Raymond were both enrolled in Second Year at High School.

THE COARSE HABIT OF ST FRANCIS

Easter 1907. Father Pellegrino Haczela, a Franciscan, came to preach at Pabrianice. He saw so many boys with intelligent eyes who were destined to be farmers. He put forward an idea to their fathers and mothers; the Franciscans have opened a College at Leopoli. They don’t intend to make friars of them all but to open their schools to the poor boys of the area. And if any of the students, drawn by the example of their teachers, wanted to don the habit of St. Francis, they would be delighted.

In October, Giulio Kolbe accompanied fifteen-year-old Francis and thirteen-year-old Raymond to Leopoli. They made the trip in a farm cart and, since Leopoli was in the part of Poland then ruled by Austria, they had to get a visa and have their documents stamped in order to cross the border. It was the first time that the two boys had been away from their family. Life was beginning to demand sacrifices of them.

There followed four years of hard study and their younger brother, Joseph, later joined them at College. Raymond liked school. He was very good at science so much so that his mathematics teacher, a layman by the name of Gruchala, said to him one day: “What a pity that you want to join the Franciscans; you are such a gifted boy. . . .” Evidently he had his ideas of what a Franciscan is; Raymond’s ideas were quite different.

In October 1911, Raymond and Francis, with the permission of their parents, applied to enter the Franciscan Order. Raymond was 17 years of age. He put on the coarse habit and tied the white cincture around his waist—the same way that Francis of Assisi usedto dress from the day that he decided to marry “Lady Poverty.”

On the evening of September 4, Raymond took Maximilian as his religious name; he would henceforth be known by this name to the day he died.

In 1912 Fra Maximilian was sent to Rome to continue his studies.

Throughout the world, factories were multiplying on the outskirts of the large cities at a very fast rate. Huge numbers of workers lived in squalor alongside smoky buildings. Their pay was very poor, and they had no insurance against sickness or accident at work. At intervals violent strikes paralyzed the life of the city and there were bloody encounters between workers and police.

It was evident in those troubled, questioning times that an old world was dying and a new one, with as yet uncertain horizons, had already been born.

CANNONS BOOM AT THE SERBIAN BORDER

But another danger, equally as serious, was just around the corner and it was about to engulf Europe. France and Germany had more than once been on the brink of war. Both were large, powerful nations. In the summer of 1913 the boundary between the two nations bristled with bayonets and with the barrels of cannons. It only needed one spark to set off a conflagration.

July 28, 1914. Cannons boomed along the Serbian border and the Austrian army fanned out towards the south. Russia mobilized millions of farmers. Germany responded by throwing her divisions into the fray. Poland, then divided into three parts by Russia, Germany and Austria, was overrun by the armies. By August 4, France and England joined in. Belgium was swept by an avalanche of fire. Millions of young people occupied the trenches. The first World War had begun.

The squares of Italy resounded with the talk of war, for all the world as if a great feast were being celebrated. In that 1914, Francis Kolbe took off his Franciscan habit and shouldered a rifle. A strong movement was growing under the leadership of J. Pilsudski to fight for the reunification and independence of Poland and Francis joined the volunteers to fight for the life of his fatherland.

AN “ARMY” IS BORN IN SILENCE

In 1915 Fra Maximilian graduated in philosophy. And his mind became absorbed by a project which slowly gained ground. He would found an “Army,” not for war, but for the purpose of propagating the Kingdom of God, of justice and of peace. The protectress of this “Army” would be the Immaculate Virgin.

1917. The war had already flooded Europe with blood and corpses. Pope Benedict XV issued an invitation to the nations to put an end to this “useless slaughter.” In retort the Masons organized a procession through the streets of Rome holding aloft a banner depicting the Archangel Michael being defeated by Lucifer. When they reached St. Peter’s Square they waved their banners in front of the Pope’s windows; on one of them was written: “Satan will reign in the Vatican; the Pope will be his servant.” Blasphemies!! Absurdities!!

In that same year in a quiet part of Portugal, Our Lady appeared to three little shepherds. She gave the three children of Fatima her heart-rending message of love and peace.

Maximilian decided to delay no longer, but rather to start his “army.” He spoke about it to his superiors, and received their approval. On the evening of October 16, seven Franciscan seminarians gathered in the room next to that of the Rector. The atmosphere was electric. It seemed as though they were knights of old waiting for their investiture. Fra Maximilian held in his hand the programme which they had framed after many long discussions and after much reflection. He read it out slowly and seriously. Then one by one they signed it, and afterwards exchanged glances, not entirely devoid of some emotion. In those few silent minutes the “Army of Mary Immaculate” was born.

28 April 1918. As Europe entered upon the last terrible months of the Great War, Maximilian Kolbe ascended the Altar to say his First Mass. In October Pope Benedict XV approved and blessed the Army he had founded. Father Kolbe realised that the time was near when he would launch it throughout the world.

In the July of 1919 Father Kolbe gained his degree in theology and prepared to return to his homeland. Poland had again gained its independence, but it did not as yet have peace. It was fighting against Russia in the East. When he left Rome, Father Kolbe had his two degrees, but his health was greatly impaired; he had been spitting blood, and the doctors diagnosed tuberculosis of the lungs; there were sufficient signs to cause worry.

THE PENDULUM OF THE HOSPITALS

Father Maximilian, however, did not have time to go to hospital. In October 1919 he began teaching Church History in the Franciscan High School at Cracow. A month later, seven young confreres went through the investiture ceremony with him and joined the “Army.” With their help he began the first group amongst young men and women at University. He also started the first group of the Army amongst the soldiers with whom he worked as a Chaplain.

The tuberculosis meanwhile was making headway. Spitting of blood became more frequent, and he was exhausted and very pale. His superiors were very concerned, they relieved him of his teaching commitments and, at the insistence of the doctors, they made him go to hospital.

They fixed him up as best they could but in June he had to return and remain in hospital for the next year and a half. This going and coming back from hospital, like the swing of a pendulum, was a kind of Via Crucis which Father Kolbe had to undergo for the remainder of his life. When he was all set to do something they insisted that he take it easy. But even during his long periods of inactivity, the “Army” grew and it involved an ever increasing number of young people and adults.

A MYSTERIOUS FORMULA

Father Kolbe spent much time in thought, during the periods of silence the doctors imposed on him. He thought of what he was doing, of what he could not do, of the results which come even when one has to be idle. And one day he wrote down a mysterious formula on a sheet of paper: “w=W.” It was his great catch-cry which, in the years to come, he was to write so many times on the blackboards of classrooms, before explaining it to the young students. He would say: “w is what we want. W is the will of God. We can worry ourselves to death working, and tire ourselves out every day. But the result will always be very small, and tire ourselves out every day. But the result will always be very small, almost nothing, if God does not bless what we are doing. If on the other hand God helps us, he will add strength to our efforts and then our small amount of work will achieve great, unexpected and sensational results. Our greatest need, however, should be not to do a lot of things and to wear ourselves out with work, but to think, to search, to discover what it is that God wants us to do. Then it will suffice for us to work as hard as we can, be it little or great, and the results will come and they will be sensational. This is the secret of success; to make our little “w” and God’s great “W” coincide.” And he illustrated what he meant with this example: “Our capital (our labour) is only a small amount of money. We can do all the trading we like, but it will be very difficult for us to earn much with so little capital. But if we invest it in the bank of God, if we write our little capital to his immeasurable capital then the amount of profit we can make will be astronomical.”

Father Kolbe spent a year and a half in the sanatorium at Zakopane, occupied during the long silent hours in prayer. But whenever he could he did not allow his small amount of capital to remain idle. He held talks, group meetings, conferences and discussions with the sick inmates. The authorities at the sanatorium had prohibited every kind of “religious assistance,” and they would not allow a chaplain for the sick. “But Father Kolbe’s position was different: he was a sick inmate, and as such no one could prevent him from speaking.

He even succeeded in invading the section for university students who had been stricken with tuberculosis. It was a kind of “fortress of incredulity.” But the young people could not “resist Father Maximilian’s charm, his courage in speaking plainly about spiritual things, about the validity of the message of Christ for the construction of a new world, for the need for every man to clarify the mystery of the “beyond.” His brilliant cultural preparation was a good passport. The Army took root even amongst these people. Some of the sick Jews and Protestants became Catholics.

BEGGING, CAP IN HAND

January 1922. The first number of a review entitled “The Knight of Mary Immaculate” appeared. The idea for this magazine had come to him during his moments of solitude in the sanatorium of Zakopane. He achieved his aim a month after he returned to Cracow.

He was its founder, its editor, its director, its despatch clerk. His superiors did not contribute a cent towards the cost of the magazine; on the contrary they told him quite clearly that, if he could not pay all costs for the first issue, then they would not give him permission to print a second number. And so Father Kolbe, hat in hand, went around the city begging for help. He knocked at countless doors, and came home with about half of what he needed in his pocket. Then he went and knelt in front of OurLady’s altar and, with the same confidence he had had as a ten-year-old, he asked for her help.

When he rose from his knees (and only then) he noticed an envelope lying on the altar cloth. Inside there was an anonymous note, “For a good work,” and also the money to cover the debt with the printer and to pay for the second issue of “The Knight.”

FIVE HECTARES OF SWAMP

Printing the magazine at a commercial establishment became too costly. Father Kolbe decided to get a printing machine and to transform the silent monastery into a workshop. The friars agreed. They began to alternate prayer with work. The machine poured out the work and was busy day and night. The circulation of “The Knight” grew, to the extent that the machine could no longer cope with the work.

His Superiors assigned Father Kolbe to a new monastery at Grodno.

The intense cold of the northern town of Grodno was too much for his frail body, and at the beginning of 1926 he had to give in once again. The doctors feared for the “ghost” in the Franciscan habit and sent him back forthwith to Zakopane.

He was to be away for fifteen months and his younger brother Joseph was sent to take his place; Joseph had been ordained a priest a few years previously and was known as Father Alphonsus. Harmony reigned in the community and the work continued apace. “The Knight” now had a circulation of 50,000 copies a month, and was rapidly jumping towards the target of 100,000. From the sanatorium Father Kolbe sent some post cards to “his very dear brothers in St. Francis.” On all of them he wrote a short mysterious formula:

“w = W.”

His health improved in the spring of 1927 and Father Maximilian was able to go back to Grodno. He took back with him a new idea which had matured in silence and prayer: Grodno was no longer large enough, it was necessary to work on a bigger scale, to build a large printing press, to flood Poland with magazines, books and newspapers which would bring the message of Christ to every family.

There were five hectares of swampy land 42 kilometresfrom Warsaw. Father Kolbe took possession of them “in the name of Mary” in the summer of 1927. Franciscan priests and brothers worked with him as labourers, brick layers, carpenters, plumbers. By November the first building was ready—the Chapel where Jesus in the Eucharist would come to sustain them in their work by His very presence.

IN SEARCH OF A PAIR OF SANDALS

When the first snow of winter began to fall, the framework of the first buildings had already been erected. The friarworkers all slept in the temporary huts, which gave little protection from the winter cold. They took it in turns to fill the basins at the foot of each palliasse: by the morning the water had often turned to ice. They economised where they could, and watched every little expense, because building materials were very dear and soon they would have to buy costly machinery and large quantities of paper. Even their sandals were shared in common; as he went to work, each one put on the first pair he found. And when Father Kolbe had to go to Warsaw, he had to go from one friar to another to borrow a pair that was good enough.

In the space of two years, the city-monastery, called Niepokalanow, that is, City of the Immaculate, became the foremost publishing centre in Poland with the latest machines and great production potential.

A power plant made the small city self-sufficient in electricity. There were shops for blacksmiths and mechanics, for tailors and shoemakers, warehouses for building material, and everything needed for a publishing house: editorial offices, library, linotype, platemaking, typesetting, and a photographic laboratory. There were also a car park, a small railway station connecting into the national network and even a field which could be used as an aerodrome. The small city was equipped with a bakery, a huge kitchen, a dining room which could seat a thousand people, a fire station, a radio station and a sporting complex. But above all it possessed enthusiastic brothers who were willing to work and who believed in their mission. Francis of Assisi called fire his “brother” and water his “sister,” but they, along with Father Kolbe, called the newspaper their “brother” and the press their “sister,” and they were keen that all went well, along modern lines, to carry the word of Christ their Saviour to their brothers in Poland.

THE CLINIC, THE DEPARTMENT WHERE MOST WORK IS DONE

Father Kolbe was the body and soul of this city. In his eyes there was no difference between the confrere sitting at the editor’s desk and the machine worker covered in grease; they ate the same food, they wore the same patched clothes, they worked for the same God.

The workers at Niepokalanow were not all Franciscans; architects, engineers, labourers flocked to give a voluntary helping hand to Father Kolbe. The city-monastery (citadel) soon had seven hundred inhabitants, all volunteers, all working for the kingdom of God and at lunch time they sat down at the same table; there was no class distinction, no privileges.

There was only one place where any privilege was given: in the little infirmary where the sick were treated. Father Kolbe knew the value of suffering and he considered the clinic “the department where most work was done.”

Whilst the presses thundered on, the Blessed Eucharist was continuously exposed in the Chapel. The workers had no scruples about taking a break so as to kneel down and offer Him a prayer and their work. “I demand that you be holy,” Father Kolbe firmly told his helpers, “Holiness is not a luxury, but a simple right. And it is not difficult.”

The results were almost unbelievable. “The Knight” reached a normal circulation of 750,000 copies; for extra-ordinary editions it touched the million mark. Then a small daily newspaper-the MALY DZIENNIK-saw the light of day; its circulation was 250,000. They also published seven specialised reviews, something really tremendous for the Poland of that time.

One day a gentleman approached Father Kolbe and asked whether he could be shown over the establishment. After he had carefully studied every corner and every activity he turned to Father Kolbe and said: “I am a communist. I must confess that here, for the first time in my life, I have seen my ideas realised.”

Father Kolbe had another gigantic dream. He courageously explained it to his Superiors: “We have created a “City of Mary Immaculate” where we work for the Kingdom of God. I think that we should do something similar in every country. Modern inventions should serve commerce, industry and sport but, first and foremost, the Kingdom of God.”

His Superiors thought the matter over. It seemed to be a project which was more fanciful than real; at the least it was very ambitious, but they replied: “If you think you can do it, go ahead!”

FOUR SET FOOT IN JAPAN

May 1930. Father Kolbe has left Niepokalanow in good hands and has arrived in Japan. Mary’s statue and the Bishop, Mons. Hayasaka, welcomed him on the steps of the Cathedral in Nagasaki.

Before leaving for the Far East, he visited Rome and Assisi. He knelt beside the graves of two of his former fellow students with whom he had founded the “Army.” God had called them first. Then he visited Lourdes to meet Our Lady where she had appeared to a very poor girl of the Pyrenees. He went to Turin and stopped to pray in the very places hallowed by Don Bosco, a giant of charity, who had begun a world-wide work on behalf of youth and who had worn himself out in ceaseless activity. He also went to Lisieux, too-the Silent Convent where a young girl, Therese on fire with the love of God, had been a missionary; she helped her brothers not with words and actions but by living out every day the three difficult words in her programme: love, suffer, smile. These were all people who had advanced the Kingdom of God in different ways and in different circumstances.

When he landed in Japan, Father Kolbe had in his pocket a letter from the Superior General of his Order. It contained both a permission and a prohibition-these were to be the parameters of his work. He had permission to begin a new Citadel wherever he thought fit, possibly wherever there was a nucleus of Christians. He was prohibited from seeking money within the Order. He had to do the best he could with money collected on the spot. Father Kolbe did do his best. That very month of May a rich Catholic gave him a small modern press for printing in Japanese characters. Father Maximilian wrote his articles in Latin, a cleric and a seminary professor translated them into Japanese. On May 25 the first number of “The Knight” appeared; its Japanese name was “Mugenzia No Seibo No Kiski.” 10,000 copies were printed.

With the approval of Mgr. Haysaka, Father Kolbe climbed the hills overlooking the city in search of 5 hectares of vacant land. He found them, he bought them and he began building a new Citadel. A year later the essential buildings of the Citadel had been completed. It was inaugurated during the feast of the cherry blossoms; those amazing Japanese cherries which flower splendidly for only one week and produce rare small fruit.

KIMONOS AND GUNS

The Japan of those years was a mixture of delicate and rustling kimonos and of threatening guns. The military had a very strong hold on the country and aspired to establish a large Japanese Empire in Asia. They strove to inculcate a proud nationalistic spirit amongst all including the children.

This Japan, which looked upon every foreigner with mistrust, was quite favourable to the work of Father Kolbe and his magazine. In a short time it became the most widely circulated Catholic publication in Japan.

Volunteers began to come to the Citadel which, as at Niepokalanow had a chapel, a printing room, an electricity generator and a large meeting room. They were mainly Christians, but there were also some pagans. They were prepared to undertake labouring tasks, to help with the distribution of the review and also with the translations. Some asked for instruction in the faith, and later for baptism. Some were soon to ask to receive the habit of St. Francis.

Father Kolbe studied Japanese assiduously, and began first to speak the language and then to write it. The friars and his friends distributed the review on trams, in shops, in hospitals, in schools. Even the bonzes read it with interest. The circulation went up and up: twenty, thirty, fifty thousand copies.

But Father Kolbe’s health again began to decline in a rather frightening manner. He had to give up all work.

TWO OR THREE MONTHS TO LIVE

A high fever and spitting of blood once more. The old sickness had returned. The Japanese doctors feared for his life. They advised that he return to Europe and undergo long and drastic treatment. Father Kolbe departed.

The doctors at Zakopane shook their heads when they saw him. They told him quite emphatically that he had only three months to live. Father Maximilian went to stay with his mother and in the calm atmosphere of her house he slowly recovered. Three months passed, thirty months. His health returned. “The doctors know everything,” smiled Father Kolbe, “but someone up there knows much more.”

He recommenced work at Niepokalanow. His native air did him good. They reappointed him director of the Citadel, and he succeeded in raising the circulation of “The Knight” to a million copies. Then he had another grand idea—an apostolate by correspondence. He invited anyone with problems, difficulties or doubts to write to him. Soon he was getting 2,000 letters a day. In the first year there were more than half a million. They all received an answer.

THE SAD PERIOD OF NAZISM

Meanwhile the Brown Shirts had been on the march for many years in Germany. The sad period of Nazism had begun. A frenzied man spoke into the microphones at German Radio stations: his name was Adolf Hitler. He looked at Poland with the practised eye of a violent thief and proclaimed to the world that this territory was vitally needed for the expansion which destiny had decreed for the “privileged race,” the German race.

In Poland they said that he was only bluffing. But on August 23, 1939, Stalin of Russia and Hitler of Germany signed a nonaggression pact. There was a secret clause in that pact: Poland would be divided between Russia and Germany by a line drawn down the middle from north to south.

September 1, 1939. German armoured divisions under the command of General Guderian penetrated deep into the heart of Poland. Two thousand aircraft of the Luftwaffe bombed Warsaw and railway junctions, practically paralysing the life of the nation. France and England, which had both signed a pact of mutual assistance with Poland, declared war within the space of 48 hours. But they could do nothing against Hitler’s well-oiled war machine. Poland was brought to its knees in four weeks.

At the start of the tragedy, Father Kolbe summoned together the thousand inhabitants of Niepokalanow and told them: “This is the moment of trial. We must disperse. Those who can should return to their families. The others will leave this veryday for the monasteries in the east; they will be much safer there.”

He remained, with fifty of his brother Franciscans.

“POLAND HAS CEASED TO EXIST”

The wave of destruction and death hit the Citadel towards the middle of September; some buildings were destroyed by bombing; others were badly damaged. Then the Flying Squad of the Wehrmacht arrived at the gates, rifles at the level. On September 19 the remaining religious were herded into the yard, bundled into trucks, then into railway cattle-wagons and transported into the unknown.

They were taken to Amlitz in Germany. It was during the time when the “Lord of the War,” Adolf Hitler, announced to an astonished world that Poland as a nation had ceased to exist.

In November, the religious were unexpectedly returned to Polish territory. They were held for a time in an abandoned Salesian College at Ostrzesrow. Then in December there came the unforeseen permission for them to return to Niepokalanow.

In the meantime a Red Cross Hospital had been set up in the buildings of the Citadel. Father Kolbe and his companions made themselves available for any need. The wounded, invalids, fugitives and persecuted Jews came to the Citadel seeking assistance.

Some of Father Kolbe’s helpers, believing that the worst had passed, returned a few at a time to the Citadel to resume their work.

The Nazi invaders looked upon Niepokalanow with a certain amount of .sympathy. They hoped that this rather enterprising “Father” would collaborate with them. During the twelve months of relative calm, Father Maximilian restored some of the machines to working order and asked permission to resume printing “The Knight.” They granted him approval for one issue “on trial.” Furthermore they offered him the privilege of becoming a German citizen (Kolbe is a German name, and indicates perhaps that his family was originally of German origin). Father Maximilian accepted the permission to go ahead with the printing, but courteously declined the “privilege.”

The issue “on trial” was a great disappointment to the invaders; it contained nothing which pleased them. Permission to print a second issue never came.

TWO BLACK AUTOMOBILES AT THE FRONT DOOR

1941. The lull ceased suddenly. Hitler was about to begin OPERATION BARBAROSSA, the invasion of Russia. For this great military operation, his armies needed to dispose completely of Poland and all its resources. “The Polish race,” Hitler stated cynically,”is one of slaves, destined by history to serve the great German race.”

The first move, in the reduction of Poland to slavery, was the elimination of the intellectual class, of all leaders and influential people who could persuade the people to offer resistance.

February 17, 1941. There was a cover of snow on the streets and on the dilapidated buildings at Niepokalanow, when two black automobiles braked sharply at the front door of the Citadel. Ivo Achtelick, the Franciscan brother in the porter’s office, knew the number plates quite well: it was the Gestapo, the notorious State Police Force to which Hitler had entrusted the elimination of enemies of the Reich. He snatched the telephone and called Father Maximilian: “It’s the Gestapo. They’re looking for you.” “I noted a quiver in his voice,” Ivo Achtelick said later, “as he replied: “What did you say?” But he controlled himself straight away and said as calmly as ever: “I”11 be down immediately, brother”.”

Some minutes later, wearing his poor Franciscan habit, Father Kolbe got into one of the two automobiles. Five other Franciscans were taken away with him.

From February to May Father Maximilian was locked up in the prison at Pawiak, in cell 103. Pawiak was a clearing centre; from here prisoners were transferred to the various forced labour camps.

The Bishop protested at his arrest. The Gestapo Commander replied that it was a matter of conspiracy. Twenty Franciscans signed a petition to the German authorities, requesting that they take Father Kolbe’s place; it met with a blunt refusal.

THE LARGE ROSARY BEADS AND THE NAZI

In cell 103, Father Kolbe had the company of a Jew and another Polish citizen. The cell was small. They took it in turns to exercise in its few square metres. The priest kept passing the large Franciscan rosary beads through his fingers. One day a Nazi officer came for inspection. He saw the habit and the cincture from which hung the Rosary beads and the crucifix. He turned purple with anger. He seized the Crucifix and yelled: “Do you believe in this?.”

“Yes,” the priest calmly replied.

The officer gave him a violent back-hander. Three times he repeated the question, and receiving the same answer, three times he struck the priest. Then, in typical Nazi fashion, he assaulted the priest with punches and kicks, until Father Maximilian fell to the floor. Only then did the officer go away.

The Jew and the Pole helped the priest who was bleeding profusely and whose face was swollen. He made a gesture that it was nothing and forced a smile. A guard who had witnessed the brutality and who feared other inspections, hurried to get some prison garb and asked him to take off the habit. Father Kolbe hesitated. He did not want to discard the religious dress he had worn for so many years. He then decided that it was better to do so and. put on the striped jacket. He was never again to wear the habit of St. Francis.

The cell was very damp. Father Maximilian had delicate lungs and soon began to cough and to shiver with fever. They took him to the infirmary in the gaol. The infirmarians treated him with every care. When he recovered they arranged for him to be kept in the sick bay, where he was relatively well looked after. But one day the order came for Father Kolbe to be taken back to his cell in preparation for his departure.

A TRAIN TO AUSCHWITZ

It was the end of May. All of the prisoners at Pawiak were suddenly taken out of their cells. “Hurry! Hurry!” yelled the warders. A few hundred metres away there was a cattle train. When they had all been loaded into the trucks, a corporal snapped to attention in front of a field-marshal and reported that there were 320 head aboard and that all was ready.

The murderous journey took 24 hours; a searing thirst tortured the 320 Poles locked inside the trucks. Then, on the night of May 28, the gates were noisily thrown wide open. “The darkness,” recorded a survivor, “echoed with strange orders and with that barbarous barking of Germans which, when they issue commands, seems to give vent to centuries” old anger.”

About ten S.S. men quickly appeared. They directed the group into two parties with a minimum of gestures and words. “They decided whether each of us could do some useful work for the Reich or not,” wrote one who lived to tell the tale. “then suddenly our wives, our parents, our children were moved off. We saw them for a short time in the dim light at the other end of the platform; we did not see them again.”

Those judged “fit to work” had to run the two kilometres separating them from the camp at Auschwitz; the terrified Poles knew the place by the name of Oswiecim. As they ran, fierce dogs, sooled on by the S.S., bit at their heels.

It should be noted that to staff their extermination camps (amongst which Auschwitz, Dachau, Belsen and Mauthausen were unfortunately wellknown”) the Nazi hierarchy did not choose normal soldiers, but criminals released from prison, men who had been condemned as abnormal sadists and felons. From May 28, 1941, these men were the “Superiors” of Father Kolbe and his unfortunate companions.

On the main gate of the camp was a brightly illuminated inscription: “ARBEIT MACHT FREI-Work makes one free.”

Inside the camp they were stripped and herded into a large hall to be disinfected. They waited for hours, their teeth chattering.

“Suddenly” wrote a survivor, “hot water poured out from the showers. Five minutes of bliss. But shortly afterwards, four guards came in, shouting at us to move into the next room which was icy cold; here other shouting guards threw some clothes at us and gave each of us a pair of shoes with wood soles. Before we knew where we were, we found ourselves outside in the early morning cold and, barefooted and naked, with our whole outfit in our hands, we had to run to another hut, a hundred metres away. Only here we were allowed to get dressed.”

A NEW MAN 16,670

Everything was taken away from these men: clothes, shoes, hair. They even took away their names. Henceforth Father

Kolbe would be known as 16,670. For the remainder of his life he was to have this number tattooed on his left arm. At Auschwitz it was work, work with a devilish monotonous rhythm. Very early in the morning before dawn there was the call “Wstawac”-(“Get up”). Pandemonium followed. They had five minutes to get up, dress, and attend to their toilet because then grey pieces of “brot” (bread) were distributed. Anyone who arrived late missed out and suffered the pangs of hunger until midday.

They worked from dawn to dusk. They marched out briskly. Coming home they almost ran. It was a tragic farce to see those long columns of men dressed in prison stripes returning at the double in strict formation whilst an absurd band made up of other men in prison garb played brisk marches in the large square of the camp.

Down below, beyond the barracks, the tall chimney of the crematorium ovens was always smoking. Any one who succumbed to fatigue, who did not fight for his rations, who was slow in running and fell by the wayside knew that he would finish up there. He would be thrown on to a mine-cart, dead or dying it did not matter. The cart would slip down the rails to the mouth of the oven. Colonel Fritsch, the camp commandant, would tell them, with a smile on his face: “The only way you’ll leave here is through that chimney.”

Father Kolbe was assigned to Block 17, reserved especially for priests whom Fritsch defined as “useless beings and the parasites of society.” Father Maximilian was chained to a cart with other Polish priests to pull very heavy loads of gravel for the construction of the boundary wall of the crematorium. At ten-metre distances along the route of the carts there was a gaoler armed with a stick to beat them; they had to run past to avoid being hit.

DURING THE NIGHT A SHADOW OVER BLOCK 17

When the boundary wall had been completed, Krott, the blunt, cruel Nazi commander of Block 17 gave the prisoners another job. They had to pull down trees, tear off the branches, bundle them together and transport them, all by hand. Father Kolbe, often bleeding as a result of the blows of the guards, staggered along the uneven path under the weight of an increasingly heavy load. But, despite all this, there was peace in the depth of his soul. He knew that his Citadel had been destroyed, he knew that his Army had been scattered by the tremendous whirlwind of war, that all his work had been burnt in the bombing. But he knew that God is stronger than evil, that after the darkness the light would shine again. He clung strongly to this certainty even although it seemed a forlorn hope. It did not matter if he would no longer be there. The Kingdom of God would reign on earth, in justice and peace. Others would walk before the face of the Lord, to prepare His way; others chosen by Him.

One day when the tree trunk loaded on to his shoulders was far too heavy, Father Kolbe fell to the ground, like Christ under the weight of the Cross. And Nazi Krott, imitating the cruelty of the Roman guards to perfection, punched and kicked him. “I”11 teach you to work, you priest of the devil!” He did not crucify him, but stretched him across the trunk and gave him fifty strokes of the lash. When Christ was scourged He received only 35 strokes from his gaolers, the maximum permitted by the law.

The other priests passing by saw him lying motionless in a pool of blood and covered him with green branches. They thought he was dead.

But during the night, a shadow staggered and dragged itself into Block 17. It was he! He had managed to drag himself to his own palliasse in pitch darkness! Next morning he was swollen with bruises and running a high temperature. They took him to the sick bay, the waiting room of death.

In his delirium this prisoner did not curse, did not cry out in terror; he prayed, he spoke to God. And those who were waiting for death knew thereby that a priest had joined them.

Later his fever abated, but he could not move from his palliasse; however, human skeletons dragged themselves towards him seeking a word of hope, of faith. He reconciled to God many of these people without hope.

Doctor Sternler, a survivor who had learnt to hate everything and everybody in Auschwitz, spent a night with his hand in the hands of Father Kolbe, who whispered to him: “Hatred builds nothing. It is love which saves.”

Miraculously the fever left him, and his wounds closed up. Father Maximilian was transferred to Block 12, amongst the invalids. This Block was greatly feared: they were on half-rations and there was no medication; even small cuts turned septic. Father Kolbe found words of comfort also for these unfortunate companions. He made bearable terrible sufferings.

A PRISONER HAS ESCAPED

July 20. Number 16,670 was transferred to Block 14: agricultural work. It was harvest time. The men were taken a long way out to work in the fields. One of the prisoners in an act of desperation tried to escape by hiding in the crop.

That evening at roll-call, one prisoner did not answer. All of those in Block 14 shuddered. One of the rules at Auschwitz, always carried out, was that: “For every escapee, ten prisoners would pay with their lives.”

The prisoners in Block 14 were kept standing rigidly to attention. The sun was setting in a darkened sky. Mess time came round and the orderlies brought in the scanty rations; the soldiers tipped them into the drains bordering the clearing. The prisoners would go hungry.

They remained at attention, immovable, despite their tiredness after a hard day in the fields. It became dark. The night wore on and finally they were permitted to go into their barracks.

When they were called next morning, the escapee had still not returned. All, without exception, were required to stand at attention from dawn until three in the afternoon under a burning July sun. Some fainted. They were taken away.

Rations were brought out at three o‘clock. They were allowed half an hour to eat their meal. Then it was standing at attention again until evening.

It was about seven o‘clock when Fritsch, the camp commandant, arrived with his usual train of hangers-on. He began to shout in German and his words were heard in deadly silence. “The escapee,” he ended angrily, “has not been found. Ten of you will pay for it with your lives.”

DELETED FROM THE LIST OF THE LIVING

He walked down the line of prisoners. He lifted his arm and pointed with his finger: “This one. That one.” An assistant followed him with a list of the prisoners and marked those to be deleted from the living. The tenth was a Polish sergeant Francis Gajowniczek. Overcome with desperation he cried out: “My wife-my children.”

At that very moment a man stepped out of the ranks of those who had been spared. It was an act that could cost him his life. The Germans instinctively reached for their revolvers. Fritsch took a step backwards and yelled: “What does this Polish pig want? Who is he?”

“I am a Catholic Priest,” answered Father Kolbe in perfect German, “and I ask permission to take the plac e of that prisoner.” He pointed to Sergeant Gajowniczek.

Fritsch hesitated for a split second. Then he turned to Gajowniczek and with a “Get back there” motioned to him to join the ranks of the living. Thunderstruck he scampered back. The assistant checked through the list for the number of Father Kolbe and crossed it off.

There was a sharp command: “Hand in your shoes.” One who was to die did not need them; the Germans, instead, wanted them for other prisoners. The next order addressed to the ten condemnedmen was: “Left turn,” and they were marched off to the “hunger bunker.” It was underground and those who were condemned to die were imprisoned there in darkness without food or water.

FOUR INJECTIONS OF PHENIC ACID

A guard pushed them inside and before he closed and locked the heavy door, he said laughingly: “You will wither away like so many tulips.”

Bruno Borgowiec was a Polish interpreter who had to go down every day with the German guards to check the state of the dying. He said later: “Previously those condemned men had always been in a “state of despair; this time even the German warders were amazed by what they saw. The condemned men were gathered around Father Kolbe, and at intervals sang Polish hymns to the Madonna. More than once the guards had to tell them to be quiet because condemned people in other cells were joining in.”

The voices became weaker day by day. As a man died he was carted away. Father Maximilian comforted them in their last moments, and closed their eyes in death. With an amazing show of will-power, he remained either standing or on his knees. His face remained calm and his blue eyes amazingly serene. One of the warders was quite disturbed one day and yelled at him: “Don’t look at me like that, you priest of the devil.”

After two weeks Father Kolbe was still alive, along with three other prisoners. The cell was needed for other victims and Fritsch ordered that “they be finished off.”

It was August 14, the vigil of the feast of the Assumption of Our Lady. At midday Bock, a German nursing orderly, entered the cell. He went to the four prisoners in turn and into the arm of each he injected deadly phenic acid. Father Kolbe was leaning against the wall praying. As Bock approached he extended his arm.

Maximilian Kolbe’s body was thrown into the furnace along with those of his companions. His ashes, mixed with those of countless other victims, were scattered over the countryside near Auschwitz. Every spring it is covered with white flowers and red flowers.

********

Saint Pascal Baylon

WHY SAINT PASCHAL?

INDEX

In 1907 Father Autbert Groeteken, a Franciscan of Saxony, wrote a charming, factual biography of St. Paschal Baylon. The present booklet is largely an adaptation from the German work of Father Autbert.

In our disordered world a look into the life of St. Paschal may prove soothing to our troubled spirits. Not only Franciscan lay-brothers regard him as their patron and model; he is an inspiration to all who strive for the better things of life.

Far from the hustle and bustle of crowded streets, he spent one-half of his life as a humble shepherd, the other half as a simple lay-brother in the monasteries of Spain.Well might we ask: “What did he ever do to deserve notice?” That is precisely what many people said when Pope Leo XIII selected him as the patron of all Eucharistic Congresses and societies.

Without any formal schooling, Paschal tended his flocks on the hills of Aragon. By nature bashful, he felt at home under the blue skies, and there he learned of God’s beauty and goodness. Though he cut no figure in the history of his time, he is known and loved today the world over, while his politically powerful contemporaries have passed into oblivion. As we shall see, there was real poetry in his life, beauty in his spirit that sought its peace and its strength at the foot of the tabernacle.

1. CHILD OF GRACE

Pentecost fell on 16 May 1540 and on this day, in the town of Torre Hermosa, Aragon, our saint was born. He was named Paschal in honour of Pascua de Pentecosta, for local custom required that a child be called after the saint or feast day on which it was born. His mother was a deeply religious woman who spared no effort in the training of her child. She took him to Mass in the parish church, and from then on Paschal fell in love with the Blessed Sacrament. Many is the time he slipped away from his mother or his playmates to keep vigil before the tabernacle. He was indeed a child of grace who gave early indications of the wondrous plan of God in his regard.”The path of the just, as a shining light, goeth forwards and increaseth even to perfect day” (Proverb 4: 18).

Early in his life Paschal was given a flock of sheep to tend for his father. Shepherding the flocks was a common task for the youngsters of Aragon. But seldom, if ever, was there a shepherd more conscientious than Paschal. His father warned him to be most careful lest the sheep do damage to other people’s fields. In spite of his vigilance, however, some of the flock managed to elude his watchful eye. Paschal was always ready to make good the loss which others suffered from his sheep.

Being alone in the fields, Paschal found it easy to think about God. While his eyes watched the sheep. his mind and heart would speed away to the village church to adore the Blessed Sacrament.

Though he never had a chance to go to school, he longed to be able to read and write. It was unusual courage that spurred him on to surmount all handicaps. Someone had given him a book of the Office of the Blessed Virgin Mary. He learned it the hard way—asking passers-by to help him with the words. He would copy letters of the alphabet on little slips of paper, adding something new each day to his store of knowledge. One must admire his zeal, for it was not long before he had learned to recite the Little Office of Our Lady.

A childlike love of Mary showed itself early in the life of Paschal. He loved to pasture his flocks near her little wayside shrines. On his shepherd’s staff he carried a small statue of his heavenly Mother. If he remained in one spot for a long time, he would stick his staff in the ground and pray before his portable shrine. Soon the people called him “the holy, little shepherd.” He was regarded with favour by heaven too as the following incident proves.

Near Alconchel he and a fellow shepherd were suddenly overtaken by a raging wild storm. They sought shelter near two giant trees that seemed to defy the force of the wind. Suddenly, with a mighty crash, the trees cam tumbling to the ground. But the two youths were not hurt.Paschal said, “Let us thank God, for only by His mighty protection did we escape this danger.”

2. EARLY TRIALS

No life is without its trials, not even the life of a child. True, the problems of a boy in his early years may appear trivial to his elders, but to the boy they are big and very real.

Paschal loved the life of a shepherd, but he also loved to pray and meditate. And sometimes, quite naturally, his sheep took advantage of his prayers to seek better pasture inthe neighbour’s fields. He always blamed himself severely when this happened, and hastened to the neighbours to beg pardon and make restitution.

To help support the family, Paschal was hired out by his father to tend the sheep of strangers. He found himself in rather unpleasant surroundings—the youngest among the shepherds, many of whom were uncouth. the leader was a tough character who delighted in bullying the others. Fighting and cursing were the order of the day. what a trial for the innocent Paschal.He was not a “sissy” by any means. He had the courage to stand up in defence of what was decent and just. Though some scoffed at first, others were moved to mend their ways. In later years they testified to Paschal’s great holiness of life; they even carried a picture of their fellow shepherd who had shown such moral courage in his youth.

3. THE CALL

Paschal began to long in his inmost soul for the life of the cloister. He felt, with St. Bernard, that chastity suffered by giving reign to the passions, humility was endangered by the love of possessions, piety was rendered difficult by many occupations, truth was violated by too much talking and love was wont to cool in a wicked world. Hence he thought of entering religious life. His desire was indefinite as yet. Toward the Cistercian monastery in the neighbourhood he felt no particular attraction.

What did God want him to do? The great question of his vocation loomed in his mind, and wisely he sought help in prayer. In all trials, doubts and anxieties prayer is a sure refuge and a never failing source of strength. And Paschal, faced with the greatest decision of his life, prayed long and earnestly, sometimes far into the night. He invoked his heavenly Mother with special fervour and asked her to guide him aright.

Even the crude leader of the shepherds, who formerly delighted in making life miserable for Paschal, now remarked that he never had to drag him out of bed in the morning, because he was already on his knees saying his prayers. Soon Paschal added penance to his prayer and made it doubly effective. Hard as was the life of a shepherd, he still had the courage to deny himself some of a meagre fare. When a companion asked him how he could do this, Paschal answered evasively: “For me it is better so; my body remains healthy and I can do my work more efficiently.”

Just as penance and mortification lead to God and free the spirit of earthly bonds, so solitude allows the soul to grow healthy and strong, while quiet leads to enlightenment. Paschal felt all this, and that is why he had a preference for solitary places. He avoided the boisterous, nightly gatherings of the shepherds.

One among the shepherds became his friend and confidant. For three years John Apparicio was privileged to be the bosom friend of a saint and to learn the secrets of his heart and the power of his soul. Together they would pray and sing folk songs while Paschal accompanied on his guitar.

Though they discussed their mutual problems, Paschal, as yet, said nothing about his desire to enter a monastery. Then, one day his feelings in the matter overcame him and he talked freely.John cried out, “Why of course, Paschal, you are made for the cloister!” All the while John thought that Paschal intended to join the Cistercians, and one day he mentioned them in conversation. His friend was quick to correct him: “No, no. Not as you say. I have no intention of joining a religious community here, but far from home where I can serve God and live unknown to all.”

An unusual occurrence helped him make up his mind. One day while he was praying in the fields, Paschal saw two persons, a man and a woman, dressed in Franciscan habits. They told him God wanted him to follow the Saint of Assisi. They spoke of the many spiritual advantages of the Order and assured Paschal of God’s great love for him. Then they disappeared, leaving the saint supremely happy.

Who were the visitors that spoke to Paschal? Some writers conclude that they must have been St. Francis and St Clare. But there is no proof of this, and Paschal himself never spoke of the supernatural character of the incident. He did, however, hasten to tell his friend John that God had made clear to him his vocation.

Shortly after this happened, he and his friend were out tending their flocks in the heat of the day. They were suffering from thirst but could find no water that was fit to drink. John suggested that they go on still farther but Paschal refused. Instead, he walked to a spot of sandy soil, scratched it with his hands and with his staff—and, behold, a fresh spring welled up from dry sand. John was overcome with wonder and gratefully drank as Paschal did. From then on he regarded his friend with ever growing esteem until one day he got a new and final glimpse of the soul of Paschal.

The saint came to him in haste to say farewell. Paschal was dressed for a journey; his earnest eyes left no doubt in John’s mind that this parting was the real thing. Paschal told his friend that God had revealed to him once more that he should leave the world and enter the monastery. They parted never to meet again here below.

Half a century went by, and Paschal’s name was on the lips of countless people in the luxurious salo ns of the great as well as in the humble homes of the poor workers. No one, however, suspected that in far-off Aragon an old shepherd, named John Apparicio, was treasuring many secrets in his heart. The intimate details of Paschal’s life, mentioned above, were not known in southern Spain where Paschal died. Gradually the fame of his miracles spread even to the steepes of Aragon, and his old friend decided to visit his grave in southern Spain.

Thus it happened one day that the Friars in Villareal saw an old man kneeling at the altar where Paschal lay buried. John Apparicio gave free play to his feelings; he shed tears as he recalled the days of his youth, spent in Paschal’s holy company. The Friars questioned him and learned the precious details of the early life of the saint buried in their Church.The old shepherd’s testimony was given under oath and is incorporated in the Acts of St. Paschal’s canonization.

4. IN A STRANGE LAND

“Go forth out of thy country, and from thy kindred, and out of thy father’s house, and come into the land which I shall show thee.” Thus spoke the Lord to Abraham (Genesis 12 : 1). Paschal heard a similar call when he was about 18 years of age. He was definitely chosen to serve God, not in the world, but in the monastery. His family made no objections; in fact, they expected that Paschal would leave his home to become a religious. His portion of the family property he left to his brother and two sisters.

In Italy, three hundred years before, St. Francis of Assisi had established his Order. Soon his sons were active in southern and western Spain; by 1500 some sixteen monasteries had been established there, though none were found in Aragon to the north. That is why Paschal began his long journey southward. Little is known of this trip, except that he stopped in Murcia to visit a half-sister who was very devoted to him.

At long last, the saint stood breathless on a mountain top. Directly below lay the beautiful valley which has been called “the Moorish paradise—the garden of Spain.” The song of countless birds and the palm trees waving in the gentle breeze seemed to beckon him to come and make this his abode. It looked indeed like the promised land, flowing with milk and honey.

Two Franciscan friaries had recently been establis hed, one at Elche, the other at Monforte. Paschal’s heart beat in happy anticipation of joining the Franciscans, but for the time being, he hired himself out as a shepherd. He made the words of the Psalmist his very own, “This is my rest for ever and ever; here will I dwell, for I have chosen it” (Psalm 131:14).

5. AT THE THRESHOLD

Four long years Paschal tended sheep in the neighbourhood. He lived near the Franciscan monastery at Montforte and often visited a favourite shrine, honouring Our Lady of the Laurel-grove. In fact, he made it a point to shepherd his flocks near the shrine, just as he had done formerly in Aragon.When his master objected, Paschal answered, “I and my flocks feel most at home under the eyes of Our Blessed Lady. With her protection the flock will prosper.” And so it was in reality.

Paschal’s spiritual life was developing from day to day; he nourished that life by much prayer while he tended his sheep. The rosary was his constant companion but his deepest love was for the Blessed Sacrament. The greatest favour his master could grant him was to allow him to attend Mass in the village Church. When he could not leave the flocks, he would turn toward the Church at the sound of its bells.

On one occasion, as he was kneeling in prayer out in the fields, God rewarded his faith and his love in a miraculous manner. As the saint opened his eyes he beheld a vision of the Blessed Sacrament, surrounded by a brilliant light. This vision is well authenticated and is often recalled in pictures of the saint.

These years of waiting provided many occasions for the practice of heroic virtue. The life of a shepherd was not an easy one; the moral hazards were great too and it took more than ordinary courage to keep himself upright and clean before God and men.

Martin Garcia was the wealthy landlord for whom Paschal was working. The innocence and sincerity of the saint won the affection of his employer. Martin wanted to adopt Paschal as a son and leave him his inheritance. The offer came as a great surprise to Paschal, who promptly declined because he had chosen to lead a life of voluntary poverty.

His act of renunciation of earthly wealth was truly heroic. God rewarded him by opening the doors of the Franciscan monastery. Like an eagle, freed fromcaptivity, Paschal’s soul was ready for its flight to the very heart of God.

6. DESIRE FULFILLED

Early in 1565 Paschal met Brother Alphonse of Llerena, the Superior at Elche. To the request of the 23 ½ year old youth, Brother Alphonse readily gave his consent. He probably felt that this humble shepherd was a jewel that would lend lustre to any monastery. So he sent him to Montforte, some two hours away, where Paschal received the Franciscan habit on the feast of Candlemas, 1564.

Need we say that Pasc hal was happy? The spring flowers that opened in Valencia’s paradise were but an image of the joy that dawned in the heart of the shepherd, now turned Friar. The Franciscan Breviary says of him:”Paschal grew up in the world as a flower of the fields; now, however, transplanted to the house of God, he spreads far and wide the perfume of his virtues.”

Exactly a year after his investiture, Paschal pronounced his vows for life. It was a happy day for one who had already given his whole life to God. Now the solemn act was ratified by the ritual of the Church and the Franciscan Order. It was no empty formula when Paschal promised to observe the Rule of St. Francis. He really kept it to the letter all the days of his life. To him it was a sure way to salvation.When another Brother asked him, “Paschal, what must I do to be saved?” the saint had a ready answer. “Keep the Rule, and keep it to the letter.” That is what he himself tried to do so much so that his contemporaries could say of him, “This young man has brought great credit on our Order; he will become its pride and joy.”

Above all, Paschal loved the spirit of poverty which St Francis tried to instill into his followers—that whole-souled detachment from the things of this world. At times, Paschal went to extremes in the matter of poverty. His habit was so patched that it was difficult to know the colour of the original material! No wonder Father Ximenez could say that he had met many people who excelled in their love of poverty, but none that could outshine Paschal.

Purity had graced his soul from youth, but its practice was not always easy. It is a grave mistake to picture the saints as anaemic individuals who are ignorant of the power of passion. Paschal was a red-blooded young man who kept himself chaste in spite of the allurements of the world and the stress of violent temptations. He did it by prayer and penance. Actually, there is no other way. He knew the force of the current, precisely because he was willing to swim against it. Herein lies the heroism of the saints.

Obedience is for many the most difficult of the religious vows, because it demands a total renunciation of one’s own will. No doubt Paschal found it irksome too. But he had vowed to serve God by obeying his superiors. If they wanted him to work in the garden or in the kitchen, in the sickroom or at the door of the monastery, that is what he did; and he did it cheerfully. Had he followed his own bent, he would have remained in the chapel all day; he loved nothing more than to kneel in adoration before the Blessed Sacrament.But obedience came first in Paschal’s life. His superiors could render an account of him “with joy and not with grief.” (cf. Hebrews 13 : 17)

The mortifications and penances which Paschal practised make us shudder, when we read about them in this twentieth century. It would be imprudent and, in many cases, impossible to do what Paschal did. But the spirit of mortification which prompted penances is needed today as much as ever. We may not dress in winter the same as in summer and go barefooted through ice and snow; we may not wear thorns in our underclothing and chains about our limbs; we may not be able to fast as rigorously as he did; but we can and should imitate his spirit, being content with what we have and not complaining at the slightest discomfort.To harm one’s health by imprudent mortifications is wrong; to harm one’s soul by sensual indulgence and pampering the body is wrong too. The former mistake was quite prevalent in Paschal’s day; the latter seems to be the great evil of our own times. St Paul’s words still ring true:”Even though our outer man (the body) is decaying, yet the inner man (the soul) is being renewed day by day. For our present light affliction, which is for the moment, prepares for us an eternal weight of glory that is beyond all measure.” (II Corinthians 4 : 16–17)

7. THE POWER OF DIVINE LOVE

A lover’s thoughts are with the object of his love; his mind’s eye sees the beloved always and everywhere. If he is in her presence, his heart thrills at the sound of her voice. Simple words that fall from her lips seem to him like precious pearls. In the spiritual life it is the same. To one in love with God, as Paschal was, nothing brings greater delight then the thought of God.As the Psalmist says; “I set the Lord always in my sight; for he is at my right hand, that I be not moved. Therefore my heart hath been glad, and my tongue hath rejoiced: moreover my flesh also shall rest in hope.” (Ps. 15 : 8–9)

Those who lived with him testify that a smile was constantly on Paschal’s face. It was a reflection of the joy of God’s love that graced his soul. Here is a prayer that was often on his lips:”O my love, my happiness, my Saviour, my friend, my master! I desire nothing except you, my God. You are sufficient for me, O my Father, my Brother, my Protector.You are worthy of all my hope, all my love.”

The prayers and labours of a long day did not satisfy Paschal. Often, at night, he would steal away to a secluded spot near the monastery and there pour out his heart in prayer, while others slept.

The cycle of great feasts in the Church’s calendar provided him with new thoughts and incentives to increase his love of God. Christmas delighted him above all other feasts. He described the scene at Bethlehem so vividly, say his fellow religious, that one would think he had been one of the shepherds who knelt at the crib and embraced the Divine Infant.

When he was sick in bed in Elche, a friend of the Friars visited him. Paschal talked all afternoon about the love of God and would have gone on into the night had not the superior intervened to tell the visitor that it was getting late and that Brother Paschal was a sick man. The visitor left, saying he had not noticed the passage of time while listening to Brother Paschal.

8. BEFORE THE TABERNACLE

One of the saddest results of the so-called Reformation was indifference toward the Blessed Sacrament. In the thirteenth century, St Thomas Aquinas had set the Church aflame with his exquisite poetry in honour of the Eucharist. The fourteenth century saw the glories of public processions that were a grateful tribute of love even the State took part. In Spain, particularly, the feast of Corpus Christi became a national as well as a religious festival. But with the religious revolution of the sixteenth century came also neglect of the Eucharist, abandoned altars, desecrated churches.

In Catholic Spain, however, God had chosen St Paschal to renew devotion to the Blessed Sacrament. He did this more by his example than by his words. To him the Eucharist was the very centre of his religious life, the source and inspiration of all holiness. Paschal’s attitude was thoroughly Catholic, for, as Pope Leo XIII said in our day: “The twentieth century must be a century of the Blessed Sacrament if it means to be a century of resurrection and of life.” And the Pope pointed to the humble lay-brother, St Paschal, as the model for all.

The saint found his greatest delight in visiting the Blessed Sacrament and remaining in adoration as long as possible. His numerous duties called him away from prayer a hundred times a day, but always he would come back to the altar, drawn by the magnetic power of the Saviour’s love.

Paschal attended the midnight Office in the choir and, though the others returned to bed, he often remained before the altar until morning. Then he would go from room to room to awaken the Friars. He was now ready to serve the early Mass. If occasion offered, he served a second Mass—such was his love for the Blessed Sacrament and his reverence for priests.

His devotion at Mass permeated his entire life and brought him glory even in death; for at his funeral God worked an outstanding miracle. The church was crowded with people who had come to see their saint laid to rest. The coffin was open during the Mass and eager worshippers fought for a place near the earthly remains of Brother Paschal. At the elevation of the Host and Chalice, he opened his eyes in adoration of the Object of his love. Catherine Simon, a girl who had been ill for many years had a place near the coffin. Her parents prayed with deep faith and confidence in the power of Paschal’s intercession. She was cured instantly after the elevation. The miracle is attested by doctors who examined the girl. Thus did God reward His servant, Paschal, and bring him to the honours of our Catholic Altars.

9. MISSION TO FRANCE

When Paschal was 30 years old, his superior in Spain decided to send him on an important mission to Brittany in France. It was the year 1570-a time when France was harassed by civil wars and religious persecutions. The Calvinists and Huguenots were doing their utmost to wipe out the Catholics who professed a belief in the Blessed Sacrament. The records of the martyrs of those days are eloquent proof of the faith and courage of the sons of St. Francis. Hundreds of them were put to death amid great cruelty and unheard of torture.

In obedience, Paschal tucked away the letters he was carrying for Father Christopher of Cheffontaine, the Provincial in France. Having crossed the Pyrenees, Paschal was warmly welcomed by the Friars living on the FrancoSpanish border. Because of the very real dangers of this journey, some advised against it. It seemed foolhardy to expose Brother Paschal to such serious dangers and perhaps death. But his spirit of obedience triumphed over all the objections. And, as for the danger of martyrdom-well that would have pleased the saint more than anything else. He continued his journey, dressed in a patched Franciscan habit. He had not a coin in his pocket but depended solely on the charity of the villagers along the way. This journey proved to be the most thrilling and dangerous experience of Paschal’s life. It was certainly in striking contrast to the quiet life he had been leading in the Spanish monastery.

Shortly after he had entered France proper, a mob stopped him and shouted, “Down with this papist!” Paschal kept on walking, ignoring their threats. They threw stones at him, and he fell to the ground. He hurried on his way as soon as he could, but the wound inflicted on his left shoulder bothered him the rest of his life.

Upon his return to Spain his brethren naturally asked him many questions about his dangerous journey to France. He told them a number of other experiences which show the loving Providence of God. One day he arrived at a noblemans castle. He was hungry and begged a piece of bread from the guard at the gate. When the guard heard that Paschal was a Spaniard, he grew suspicious and reported to his master, who was a fanatical hater of the Catholics. Paschal was brought into the Castle where the nobleman was just then dining. “You’re a Spanish spy; your pious features do not deceive me. You will pay for this with your life!”

Thoughts of martyrdom danced about in the saint’s mind. He was certainly ready to die.But the nobleman’s wife took pity on him and, when she saw her opportunity, she had him sent out by another door. Thus his life was spared, but he was still hungry. A poor woman along the road finally gave him food and drink.

In another town, the people gathered round him, mocked him and began to throw stones. One of the men led him away, and locked him in a filthy barn. Once more Paschal thought his hour had come; he spent the entire night in prayer. Early the next morning the barn door opened. Paschal thought that now he would be killed. Instead, the same man appeared, handed him alms, and bade him on his way.

A Huguenot on horseback met the saint coming down a country road. He spoke harshly to Paschal and said: “Brother, is God in heaven?” In all simplicity the saint answered, “Why, of course!” The Huguenots deny the presence of God in the Eucharist; they claim God is only in heaven. The ridertook Paschal’s answer as proof that he did not believe in the real presence.Had the Huguenot known how deep was Paschal’s faith in the Blessed Sacrament, the saint might not have lived to tell his story.But here again, by God’s protection, his simple answer saved his life.

When he got to Orleans, the people tried to force him to deny the Blessed Sacrament. Their efforts, of course, proved useless. Paschal not only affirmed his faith but tried to convert his persecutors.

Weary and hungry, the faithful messenger finally arrived at his destination in Brittany and delivered the important papers to Father Christopher, the Provincial, who later became the Minister General of the whole Order. What those papers contained we do not know; we can only surmise that it must have been something very important.

The heart of Paschal was sorely grieved at the horrible profanation of the Blessed Sacrament in France. In some places, the sacred hosts were burned publicly; in Paris, the people trampled them under foot. Paschal’s feelings in this matter are best described in his own words: “Holy Scripture already calls heretics senseless, unreasonable . . . Against them God will avenge Himself . . . St. Peter calls them irrational beasts (cf. II Peter 2 : 12). St Paul says they have minds covered in darkness; they have left the way of God by their ignorance which they brought on themselves through their blindness of heart.”

Paschal’s hair was black when he left Spain, upon his return his head was white. The dangers he underwent, the things he suffered in mind and body are proof sufficient that God must have been shielding him most marvellously. He could say with the Psalmist:”The Lord ruleth me: and I shall want nothing. He hath led me on the paths of justice, for His ownname’s sake. For though I should walk in the midst of the shadow of death, I will fear no evils, for thou art with me . . . And thy mercy will follow me all the days of my life.” (Psalm 22)

10. LOVE OF NEIGHBOUR

A sincere kindness toward one’s fellowmen is a mark of the true Christian. Piety that shies away from others, that acts in a superior and snobbish manner is a false piety. St Paschal made it a point never to let his personal devotions interfere with his duties towards others. His fellow Friars found him most affable. He had charge of the dining room and saw to it that the sick and old members of the community received an extra tasty morsel as occasion offered. It was his genuine charity that prompted him to do this. When he lay dying, he begged the guardian to have a special care for the Friars who were sick and might need special food.

His service to others, however, had nothing servile or fawning about it, as though he were trying to curry the favours of others. When necessary, he corrected others, even his superiors, but he always did it in the proper spirit of charity and respect. As a result, his fellow religious were usually glad to have the saint help and advise them. Many a Friar owed much to the kind words of correction and encouragement of Brother Paschal. He had a special reverence for the preachers of the Order and gave them many a useful hint on what to say and how to say it.

Towards the poor and lowly he felt a special compassion. He aided them in many ways -comforting them in their trials, instructing them in their religion, and dispensing material alms. A superior once warned him against being too generous to loafers who came to the monastery door; Paschal answered: “I give the alms for the love of God, and who knows whether Christ Himself might not be found among these needy brethren?” That was a saint’s viewpoint, and who would dare say that it was wrong? The results of his charity proved the wisdom of his attitude, for, as Stolberg says: “Charity gives light to the mind and a holy glow to the heart. Just as a ray of light breaks into seven colours, so charity sends forth all the virtues and makes them return to her again.Brought to perfection by God’s love, such charity renders a man godlike and turns his life into beautiful harmony, making it a song of praise.”

11. TRIALS APLENTY

Life in a monastery is not always easy and pleasant. Human nature asserts itself there, as elsewhere in the world. Sometimes there are misunderstandings that render life trying in the extreme. It is but natural that such things should happen, and they usually happen to men like Paschal. There were superiors who considered him a fake saint; they questioned his motives and reprimanded him severely. Paschal took all the corrections in good part; at least he showed no outward resentment.

His fellow Brothers felt a great deal of sympathy for him; so did Brother Peter, his Provincial. The latter was convinced that some local superiors were too hard on the saint.One day he said: “Brother, since you are having such a hard time here, why not ask to be transferred to another monastery?” The Provincial really loved Paschal and was charmed by his answer: “No, Father, I”d never think of asking for a change. I have found that if we have a guardian who is not so good, he is usually succeeded by one who is better.And, furthermore, I”ve noticed that if one chooses his own superior, he usually does not fare so well. It is like jumping from the frying pan into the fire!”

Besides, the trials that came from his superiors or fellow religious, Paschal had to endure many years of misery and torture from the powers of darkness. These visitations of the evil spirits were not due to his imagination; they were real and terrible. The devil frequently appeared to him when he was meditating on the Passion of Christ. At times satan would assume the disguise of the Crucified Himself! But Paschal always detected the ruse and fought off these temptations with the sign of the Cross. He seldom spoke of these trials to others; in fact, he did not like to talk about himself at all. But his brethren and his confessor testify that he suffered much. He bore trials patiently. That is the way of the saints.

12. GIFTS OF WISDOM, PROPHECY AND MIRACLES

A human soul can be compared to a canvas on which the Holy Spirit paints a beautiful picture -the likeness of the Son of God. Because the saints placed no obstacle in the way of the Divine Artist, their souls became truly marvellous works of divine art. They were enhanced with many gifts and graces. Such, too, was the soul of Paschal. Truly humble, he distrusted himself. Therefore God exalted him and gave him the gifts of spiritual wisdom which put worldly learning to shame.

We know that Paschal taught himself to read and write; he never had a chance to go to school. How is it then that he could speak on theological subjects and give answers that made learned teachers marvel? God enlightened him. That is the only answer. In prayer and contemplation he learned more than others gleaned from books. Those who knew him well testify to his deep knowledge of the mysteries of faith, and they also insist that his wisdom came from on high.

Biographers of the saint refer to his writings, some even claim that he was the author of works of ascetical and mystical theology; but there is no proof of this whatever. It is true Paschal left some writings but these are not original. They are simply a collection of thoughts which he copied from his favourite authors for his own use.

God gave to Paschal the gift of prophecy. The following incidents are attested, under oath, in the process of his canonization:

In October, 1591, a Provincial election was to take place among the Friars in Valencia. At that time Brother Paschal was living in Villareal and had for his superior Father Diego Castellon. When the latter arrived in Valencia for the voting, he hurried to the room of Father Ximenez and greeted him as the new Provincial. The 32-year-old Father Ximenez thought his friend was merely joking. But Father Castellon said he would become Provincial and that he himself would be elected as one of the counsellors and novice-master besides. How did he know so much about it? Brother Paschal had told him. The two Friars kept their secret well but were, nevertheless, very much surprised several days later, when the elections turned out just as Brother Paschal had foretold.

A certain layman disliked the Franciscans heartily; he avoided all contacts with them. When Paschal heard of this, he said:”The time will come when this man will do much for the Friars.” In reality, he became one of the greatest benefactors of the Franciscans at Elche.

One day a sick woman begged St. Paschal to pray for her recovery.The saint answered: “My sister, your prayer is not right; say rather, “Lord, if it be Thy will, take me out of this world. Thy will be done!” The woman disliked Paschal’s advice and told him so in no uncertain terms. He, however, was firm in his reply: “Prepare yourself; soon both you and I are going on a long journey.” The woman died the following Monday and St. Paschal the Sunday after! The woman’s husband, John Ibanez, testified, under oath, to the truth of this incident.

The druggist at Villena was extremely kind to the Friars. He supplied all their medicines free of charge. Paschal said: “God will reward him richly; he will have a son, who will become a fervent Franciscan!” That happened too, just as Paschal said it would.

Sinners were also the object of the saint’s special prayers. He could read the secrets of their hearts and was instrumental in bring about many conversions.

And, as for miracles, there are a large number of proven cases in which Brother Paschal, by his intercession, restored the sick to perfect health during his lifetime. Let us recall just one incident. It concerns a little boy who had fallen from a high step and had fractured his skull. Doctors were called and they thought they would have to operate. The child was almost lifeless but Paschal cured it instantly.

Blessed Nicholas Factor knew the divine gifts that enhanced the soul of his friend Paschal. On one occasion, in Madrid, he spoke in detail of God’s favours to the humble Brother who was indeed one of God’s favourites.

13. THE DEATH OF A SAINT

Now we come to the most important event in Paschal’s life—his death. It was unusual in many respects. All his life Paschal had been preparing for a happy death, and he had the added advantage of knowing in advance just when he would leave this world. The Sunday before Pentecost, 1592, he was unusually cheerful. He visited a number of friends in the city and thanked them for their kindness to him. Then he said good-bye, as if he was going on a long journey. That same evening he suffered from a high fever and severe pains in his side, but he said nothing about it at the time.

Monday morning came and the church doors remained locked. Where was Brother Paschal? Usually he was the first one in the church, and he had the keys to the outer doors. One ofthe Brothers rushed to Paschal’s room and found him deadly sick. The saint now explained just how he felt; he gave the church keys to the Brother and asked him to inform the superior. The doctor was called at once and ordered the saint moved to the infirmary where things were more comfortable. The doctor also insisted that he wear a linen garment in place of his rough habit and use a soft pillow. This was not what the saint had been accustomed to, but he obeyed.

The fever mounted steadily and the pains in his side increased. In spite of it all, he showed remarkable patience. It was difficult for him to lie in bed; breathing came with extreme effort. He told his fellow Friars that he would not die before Saturday. When the doctor referred to his critical condition, Paschal asked how much longer he would live. “You’ll probably die on Saturday,” said the doctor sadly. Then Paschal said with conviction: “Not before Saturday; it will be after Saturday; when God wills.”

He loved his Franciscan habit, and though he could not wear it now he asked that it be hung in his room where he could see it. Brother Alonso told him to ask for it before his death. Paschal said he would do so, but the entire week went by and not a word about the habit. Even on Saturday night he did not ask for it.

Sunday came, the great feast of Pentecost, 1592. It was on the same feast in 1540 that Paschal was born in Aragon. Pentecost, this year, in Valencia meant much to him-it was his birthday into the Kingdom of Heaven. He called for his habit, and the Friars knew that death was near.

It is not difficult to imagine with what joy and fervour Brother Paschal received Viaticum the day before. At ten o‘clock Sunday Morning he was thinking of the Object of his love. He asked if it was not time for the Solemn Mass. When he received an affirmative answer, he seemed satisfied. Suddenly a change set in as he prayed aloud with great fervour, calling upon his heavenly Mother. “O Mother of God,” he cried, “look kindly upon this poor sinner. I call to you; come, sweet Lady, help me in my hour of distress. It is the hour on account of which I have invoked you all my life.Abandon me not in this moment, O my helper; with all my heart I appeal to you.” A marked agitation then took place in the saint’s body; twice he called out the Holy Name of Jesus. He was blessed with holy water, and peace seemed to return. He lay there quiet for a short while and then died.

14. PASCHAL TRIUMPHS IN DEATH

Since this was Pentecost, the monastery church was crowded with devout worshippers. They had known for some time of the saint’s illness; now the word spread like wildfire that Brother Paschal—their saint—was dead.

The news was passed along from house to house and from town to town. Soon people came from everywhere to view the remains of the saint. At first, the guardian kept the corpse in the monastery choir. That was within the enclosure, and women were not allowed to enter. The men folks were telling everyone about the wonderful miracles that were taking place. Naturally the women were quite angry that they were barred from seeing these wonders. They threatened to invade the monastery! But the guardian acted quickly, and ordered the remains of the saint to be placed in the church itself, where all could come and pay their respects.

The sick were brought in large numbers and many were cured. The official accounts of Paschal’s canonization tell of no less than twenty-five miracles that were wrought during the three days that the body was lying in state before the altar!

Let us recall a few of the miracles that happened during those momentous days in Villareal. The cure of the nineyear-old Catherine Simon has already been mentioned. It took place immediately after the Elevation of the Mass. A man who could not speak for forty years, began to talk. Balthasar Rupert, a blind man, took the hand of St. Paschal and touched it to his eyes. He was cured instantly. And so the story goes. One miracle after another. God was surely glorifying His humble servant in a remarkable manner. The fame of his miracles spread far and wide. Soon eminent Church dignitaries and civil officials came to visit the church at Villareal where St Paschal lay buried under the altar of the Blessed Virgin. Even the king of Spain came to pay his respects to the humble Brother who had won the hearts of the people more than any king had ever done.

The tomb was opened several times to see whether decomposition had set in. thought quicklime had been put in the coffin, the body of the saint was still fresh; no decomposition had occurred. The lime, however, had eater away the habit that covered the saint’s body. At the request of the Holy Father the tomb was opened again in 1611–19 years after Paschal’s death-and still the body was well preserved! This fact is sworn to by official medical witnesses who conducted a scientific examination.

It was but natural that those who loved and honoured Brother Paschal should wish to have his precious relics properly enshrined. Several noblemen were generous in their gifts, which made possible the beautiful chapel in honour of the saint.

15.THE SAINT’S GREATEST GLORY

The civil authorities, the Church dignitaries, the common people -all were anxious to have Brother Paschal beatified. Miracles, worked through his intercession abounded. Canonical investigations were held and reported to Rome. In 1618, Pope Paul V declared Paschal, Blessed.

The miracles continued. Eleven dead were brought to life. A poor farmer near Valencia saw his land becoming useless, because of a severe drought. He went out into his field one day-invoked Brother Paschal; dug a shovelful of earth-and a spring shot up to irrigate his parched land. A six-year-old boy was rescued from certain death in the sight of two men who heard the boy’s mother invoke Brother Paschal.

In the view of these miracles, and at the urgent request of the people of Spain, Brother Paschal’s name was inscribed in the catalogue of saints on 16 October 1690. The reigning Pontiff was Alexander VIII, but he died before the decree was published. It was the following July when Pope Innocent XII canonized Brother Paschal-just 99 years after his death.

During the next century devotion to St. Paschal diminished. Toward the end of the 18th Century, however, attention was again focused on the humble Spanish Brother. It came about in a rather unusual way, through Brother Giles Mary, a Franciscan living in Naples, Italy. His work was like that of Brother Paschal-tending the monastery door, the refectory, and gathering alms for his fellow Friars. He tried to be like his famous model in all things. Attaining a high spirit of prayer, he was able to perform miracles in favour of the poor of Naples. For 40 years he served the poor and became the most popular man in the city. He too had the gift of prophecy and was sought out by Church dignitaries and civil officials for counsel and advice.

On 7 February 1812, the monastery bell announced the death of Brother Giles. The sad but grateful populace hastened to pay their honours to the humble Brother who had befriended them. But his death had another result—it drew attention once more to the life of Paschal Baylon who lived over 200 years before.

Brother Giles was beatified by Pope Leo XIII in 1888. It was the same great Pontiff who, in 1897, chose Brother Paschal as the patron of all Eucharistic Leagues and Congresses. Many saints were outstanding in their devotion to the Blessed Sacrament, and the Pope’s choice of Brother Paschal caused much surprise. Some had thought the choice would fall upon Tarcisius, the youthful martyr of the Blessed Sacrament. But Pope Leo chose Paschal, because he considered his love and devotion toward the Eucharist pre-eminent.

There was also a very human factor that influenced the Pontiff’s decision. The human factor was Archbishop Briganti.

In 1891 the first Eucharistic Congress took place at Naples—the harbinger of many glorious demonstrations in honour of the Blessed Sacrament. The second Congress was held at Turin in 1894; the third at Milan in 1895. The fourth was held at Orvieto. In 1897 Cardinal Sarto, who later became Pope Pius X, presided at the fifth Congress in Venice. It was at this time that Archbishop Briganti wrote a beautiful tribute to St. Paschal and dedicated it to Cardinal Sarto.”It is my belief,” wrote the Archbishop, “that St. Paschal Baylon should be chosen as the special protector and patron, first, of all Eucharistic Congresses, and, second, of all devout adorers of our Saviour inthe Eucharist.” And he justified his preference for St. Paschal in these words: “In St. Paschal the love toward our Eucharistic God attains a depth and warmth that is extraordinary. This love seems to have grown with him from his childhood as a special privilege.It lasted not only to the end of his life, but extended even beyond the time of his death.” The Archbishop, was here referring to the miracle of St. Paschal’s funeral, when the humble lover of the Eucharist opened his eyes at the Elevation of the Host and Chalice.

It was 15 July 1897, when the Archbishop penned these lines. And on 28 November of the same year, Pope Leo XIII wrote his famous Providentissimus, declaring St. Paschal the heavenly patron of all Eucharistic Congresses and Societies both present and future.

With this solemn pronouncement by the head of the Church, the faithful once more turned their eyes to St. Paschal. Many altars and even churches, in all parts of the world, were erected in his honour. Devotion was revived, especially in Spain, where a grand pilgrimage was scheduled to take place in 1898. Delegates were expected to come from all Spain’s possessions, but the Spanish-American War interfered with these plans. However, a national pilgrimage on 17 May 1899, turned into a real triumph for the humble Brother Paschal.

Early in this century, the youthful King Alphonso knelt at Paschal’s grave. He was doing what other Spanish Kings had done two hundred years before. Father Autbert, referring to this visit of King Alphonso, says very aptly: “Behold, the mighty ones of this world bow down before the almighty power of God’s grace that manifested itself in this humble lay-brother. And the noble example of kings will not have been in vain. Many others will come, if only in spirit, and pray, and the name of the humble Brother will be invoked in future centuries, when the names of the kings will perhaps be entirely forgotten.”

THE ANSWER

The Holy Eucharist was the inspiration of St Paschal’s life. As a young shepherd and later as a Franciscan Brother he loved his Eucharistic King with a love that was extraordinary. Hour after hour he spent in prayer. Only obedience made him leave his post of “sentinel of the Blessed Sacrament.” And then came his death and the countless miracles by which God glorified him. Paschal may well be called the Man of the Eucharist. Little wonder that Pope Leo XIII chose him as the patron of all Eucharistic Associations.

As in the sixteenth century, so today -the Blessed Sacrament is the fountain from which we must draw our strength. Without Christ there is no Christian living. How can we hope to meet the dangers of the present day and the insidious snares of secularism; how can we expect to save our Christian families and our glorious heritage unless we seek light and life, strength and solace at its source?

It has been the aim of the Church through the years to encourage frequent Communion, but all too often the menfolk remain indifferent. Some thought they were doing enough by receiving a few times a year, and they left frequent Communion to the women and children. That is not fair. As the Cure of Ars used to say, the men want to lead in other fields; they want to be first in business and politics. They should lead in religion as well.

There is no better antidote against Communism that a revival of Catholic ideals-particularly frequent Communion-among the men of our nation. This wholesome practice, willed by Christ and encouraged by the Church is bound to set up a wholechain of events in the souls of men, who are the guardians of our nation’s security.

The body of St. Paschal was preserved incorrupt at Villareal until the Civil War in Spain when the Communists burned the church and tried to destroy the relics of the Man of the Eucharist. Today the forces of world Communism are seeking to destroy something more precious than the bodies of saints, even the immortal souls of men. They aim to tear all faith from the hearts of our people. In this grave hour of peril, St Paschal stands forth as a powerful protector and model. He is the inspiration not only of the Franciscan Brothers who follow his mode of life but also of all Catholics who strive to make the Blessed Sacrament the source and centre of their religious life.

With unerring simplicity St. Paschal points out the constant answer to men of faith in this trembling, questioning world- The Blessed Sacrament.

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Saint Patrick

BY RIGHT REV. MGR. O’RIORDAN, D.D

INDEX

THE LIFE OF A SAINT

If we want to know the life of a saint intimately, we must learn it from himself. That is true of men of the world also. We can learn from others of the deeds they did; but only from their own diaries, their autobiographies, and the reflections they make in them, we come to know the springs of their action, their feelings in relation to worldly interests and to the events in which they took part. But that is still more true of the saints. Men of the world are seen, and see themselves, in relation to the world, its interests, and its ways. Saints see themselves in the light of faith, in relation to God, and to the world beyond the grave. We can learn from history what they did, how they laboured as missioners of Christ, how they led the good to greater holiness, the bad to repentance or whole nations to a knowledge of God. These are facts of history. But there is something in the life of a saint beyond and above these, which only the saint himself can thoroughly reveal to us-his hidden or interior life, his growth in holiness, which is brought about by the twofold action of Divine Grace and his own goodwill. The actions that we see may be signs of sanctity, but, however great, they are not enough to make a saint; they must have saintly motives, and only the saint himself can tell us of these.

There is in the life of a saint, as in the life of everyone, a oneness, a continuity, and a growth which make him what he is and distinct from everyone else. It is the spiritual character, the moral web which the union of his soul with God has woven for him through the course of his life. Only the saint himself has the key of that sanctuary; he alone can let us see its secrets. The biographer who undertakes to inform us about it is but an outsider like ourselves. How is it that the greatest artist the world has ever known could not paint a flower so perfectly as nature paints it? His genius may blend colours so well that, when seen from a distance, the painting appears like real life; but, when examined closely, it is found not to be the living thing. The reason is: The painter lays on the colours from without, the colour of the living flower comes from the living forces within. Hence, the best praise we can give a painter is that his picture is true to life, by which we mean that it is very like what nature can do, as good an imitation of nature as art can make: that is all. So, too, only those can know a saint intimately who have lived with him, and have had the privilege of watching his saintly character forming itself, and growing out of the saintly motives which make him live in God and move him in all he does. We who have not that privilege can best know him when he makes himself known by his writings. He is the best interpreter of himself. As we read what he reveals of his inner life, we have a talk with himself. We know St. Catherine of Siena better from her letters than from the part she took in great historical events; we know more of St. Francis de Sales from his correspondence than from his fruitful labours in the Chablais; more of St. Jerome from his correspondence than from the monuments of Biblical scholarship he has left us. We become really intimate with St. Augustine only when we read his “Confessions,” that greatest self-revelation in all human literature. For that reason, although there is no saint of whom more lives have been written than of St. Patrick, I pass them by, and I ask you to consider his life in a few passages which I select from his “Confessions.” They were written by him when his life in the world was drawing to a close and his work in the world was nearly done. And if I ask you to read several extracts, it is because they are a better revelation of the saint than any thoughts which I could set before you. It is like an examination of conscience made aloud.

THE “CONFESSIONS.”

“I, Patrick, a sinner, when I was hardly sixteen years of age, was carried into Ireland with thousands of others, and the Lord opened the understanding of my unbelieving heart so that I might at length remember my sins and be converted with all my heart to the Lord my God, Who regarded my humility, Who took pity upon my youth and ignorance; Who watched over me before I knew Him, and protected and consoled me as a father his son. On coming to Ireland, I daily herded flocks, and many times in the day I prayed, and the love of God and the fear of Him grew in me more and more; my faith increased, and my soul was strengthened, so that in a single day I have said as many as a hundred prayers, and in the night nearly as many, although I lived in the woods and the mountains. Before dawn I awoke to prayer in snow and frost and rain, and there was no tepidity in my soul as there is now, because my spirit burned within me.

“Whence now this wisdom which was once not in me? When ce afterwards that great and saving grace to know God and to love Him, even to the giving up of parents and country for His sake? I owe an immense debt to Him Who gave me this great grace that, through me, so many should be regenerated unto God. I might leave those whom I have gained to Christ to revisit my parents and country-and God knows I greatly desired to see them once more, and the face of the saints of my God-but I am bound in the spirit, who witnesseth to me that, if I should do so, He would hold me guilty; and I fear to lose the labour I began-and I would lose it but for Christ the Lord, Who commanded me to come and stay with them for the rest of my life.

“And, therefore, I ought to acknowledge and give some return to the Lord for blessings, tempo ral and eternal, such as the mind of man cannot measure. Who was it that recalled me, fool though I be, from amidst those who seemed wise and learned in the law, the powerful in word and in everything? Me, hateful before the world though I be, He inspired beyond all others, provided that, with fear and reverence, and without complaint, I should faithfully serve the nation on whom the love of Christ bestowed me for life and to serve them in all humility and truth.

VOICES FROM FOCLUTH

“Once more I was with my family, who received me as a son, and earnestly besought me that, after all the trials I had endured, I should never leave them again. In a vision of the night I saw a man coming as if from Ireland with many letters, and he gave one of them to me, which purported to be the “Voice of the Irish,” and whilst I read it I thought I heard the voices of those who dwelt beside the wood of Focluth which is by the Western Sea, and thus they cried, as if with one voice, “We pray thee, holy youth, to come and walk once more amongst us.” Thanks be to God that, after many years, the Lord heeded their appeal.

“And on another night, whether within or beside me I know not, God knows, He spoke this to me in the clearest words which I heard, but could not understand tillthe end of the discourse: “He who hath laid down His life for thee, He it is Who speaketh within thee.” I wondered, considering who it was that prayed within me. At the end of the prayer He said He was the Spirit, and I remembered the words of the Apostle, “The Spirit helps the weakness of our prayer: for we know not what we should pray for, but the Spirit asketh for us unspeakable appeals, which things I cannot express in words.”

“Therefore, I speak boldly, my conscience does not accuse me. God is my wit ness that I have not lied in what I have written. I ought not to conceal the gift of God given me by God in the land of my captivity. For them I earnestly sought Him, and there I found Him, and He guarded me from all iniquity. Therefore do I thank God with-opt ceasing who kept me faithful in the time of temptation, so that to-day I offer my soul a living sacrifice to Christ my God, Who has protected me in all my trials.

“I now commend my soul to my faithful God, for Whom, in my lowliness, I am an ambassador. This is my confession before I die.”

PAUL AND PATRICK

Those are a few passage selected from the “Confessions” of St. Patrick. There is a striking similarity between them and what St. Paul wrote of himself-wonderful visions; heavenly messages; a commission direct from God to preach the Gospel, one to the Gentiles outside Judea, and the other to the pagan inhabitants of an island outside the bounds of the Roman Empire. Whilst they both tell us of their visions and their raptures, their singular supernatural gifts, their penances and their prayers, they make confession also of their infirmities, and of what in their humility they call their sins. St. Patrick says that he was “the least of the faithful,” that his captivity was in punishment of his “unbelieving heart,” and “because he knew not the true God,” although he was born and brought up by Christian parents. St. Paul thought himself “the least of the Apostles,” and “the chief of sinners,” and he ranks himself with the heathen before his conversion, although he had been a conscientious Jew, full of zeal for God according to his light. There is also the same manner of emphatic expression. “I speak the truth,” says St. Paul; “I lie not, my conscience bearing me witness in the Holy Ghost.” St. Patrick writes: “I speak boldly; God is my witness that I have not lied in what I have written.” Our Divine Lord said to St. Paul on his conversion, “I send thee to the Gentiles to open their eyes, that they may be converted from darkness to light, and from thepower of Satan unto God.” St. Patrick was called in a vision “by the voices of those who dwelt by the Western Sea.” They are alike also in this, that he comes next to St. Paul in the fruitfulness and permanency of his Apostolate.

GIFT OF MIRACLES

His “Confessions” give us many manifestations of the supernatural, and, according to his biographers, his life was strewn with miracles. Catholics do not see that the miracles recorded of him are impossible at all. If we hesitate to assert some or many of them, it is not because we think any of them impossible. The wonderful, the strange, and the unaccountable in the life of a saint should not take by surprise anyone who believes in Divine Providence, and that “the Word was made flesh and dwelt amongst us”; and Catholics, least of all, who know that the Incarnate God is at once present in heaven and on our altars. If we exclude the miraculous from the life of a saint, we keep him at the level of ordinary men; we leave his life without a meaning; he is nothing better than ourselves. It is not for us to know how these wonders happen. The sun helps the growth of plants, but we do not know how. Many things exist, but we do not know how. It will be said that our senses bear witness to these things. Aye, and we easily accept them, because we are used to them, whilst we cannot explain them. But for those who believe in the supernatural, whose religion is not a religion of one day in the week, But of every day, and of every hour and moment of life, who are used to the things of God, their faith fits them to expect the miraculous in the life of a saint. They are not surprised by evidences of it, and the light of their faith helps them to see it when it appears. But it is outside the vision of those whose view is bounded by the natural; necessarily so. We find ourselves in an atmosphere of the supernatural as we read the “Confessions” of St. Patrick. The singular spiritual gifts which he confesses to have got from God prepare us to see them confirmed by supernatural tokens in the work of his life; and that all the more because, like the first Apostles, he had no credentials to recommend his mission to the pagans of Ireland unless the words he could speak and the deeds he could do. Like the Apostles, he was his own witness. Palladius, who had gone before him, left nothing but failure, if he can be said to have failed in a work he hardly began.

We learn from his “Confessions” that he was barely sixteen years old when he was taken captive into Ireland, and that he spent six years in captivity. He spent four years afterwards under St. Martin at Marmoutier, and St. Martin died in 397. Thus we can trace back the birth of St. Patrick to 372. According to the “Annals of Ulster,” he began his Irish Apostolate in 432, and died in 492, at the age of 120.

Now, let us put flesh on to these few dry bones, and see what we shall have.

THE MISSION OF ST. PATRICK

Theodosius, the last who ruled over a united Roman Empire, died in 395, and with him disappeared what was left of Roman civilisation. The Goths were already on their way to devour the decaying old Empire, and they were followed soon by the Huns and the Vandals. St. Chrysostom, St. Ambrose, and St. Augustine lived in those times, but their lives were spent in defending the rights of the Church against the traitors of Chalcedon in the East, and its doctrines against the Arian heretics in the West. Their only thought was to extend Christianity, or to preserve and purify what there was of it, within the Empire. Nobody thought of carrying the light of the Gospel outside it. St. Patrick also lived in those times, and was a witness of those events, and he would have been led by the same influences and purposes as others if he had not believed that he had received a commission direct from heaven, which he could not dare to disregard. The voices “from the woods of Focluth, by the Western Sea,” kept ringing in his ears. Thirty-five years had passed from the time he left Marmoutier till he set out for Ireland to answer the appeal of those voices. During those years, we are told, he “wandered through Gaul, Italy, and the islands of the Mediterranean,” waiting for that word which alone could send him with authority on his mission to Ireland; but that word he had long to wait for. He told St. Germain of the voices he had heard; by his advice he went to the Pope, but the Pope was slow to heed him; and, moreover, his relatives sought to dissuade him. His youth and middle age passed, the sun of his life appeared declining behind the hills; he had come to a time of life when most men have either succeeded or failed in the work they give their lives to, and he had not yet begun his-not begun so far as the world could see, but he had been wistfully looking forward to and preparing for it all the time. His early penances and prayers amidst the hills and woods of Antrim, his ascetic training under St. Martin, St. Honorat, and St. Germain, his supernatural visions his mystical life from boyhood to old age; were the seeds of it, hidden from the vision of men, which were to “bring forth fruit in due season.”

THE ROMAN MANDATE

In 432 Pope Celestine spoke the word for which St. Patrick had been waiting so long, and he set out on his mission. It is interesting to think of him receiving consecration in Ivrea, where St. Malachy, his successor in Armagh, was a pilgrim seven centuries later, and where, for the past five centuries, and to this day, are venerated the relics of Blessed Thaddeus, who died there on his way from Rome to govern the diocese of Ross. The weight of sixty years was upon him, with the memory of friendly dissuasions, with the weariness of disappointments and delays, with the knowledge of the failure of Palladius, who had gone before him. But the visions he had, and the voices he had heard, were more to him than these. God had given him a work to do, and he knew that God would help him to do it. We can best learn from himself the thoughts that filled his heart as he made his way across the country to Tara, to deliver his religious message to the king and the chieftains of the land, who were assembled there. Those thoughts are expressed in the hymn known as “St. Patrick’s Breastplate,” which he composed and sang on his way to Tara.

ST. PATRICK’S BREASTPLATE

“I bind to myself this day

The Power of God to guide me, The Might of God to uphold me, The Wisdom of God to teach me, The Eye of God to watch over me, The Ear of God to hear me,

The Word of God to give me speech, The Hand of God to protect me, The Way of God to lie before me, The Shield of God to shelter me, The Host of God to defend me, Against the snares of demons, Against the temptation of vices.

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Christ protect me this day.

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Christ be with me, Christ in the front, Christ in the rear, Christ within me, Christ below me, Christ above me, Christ at my right hand, Christ at my left. Christ in the heart of everyone who thinks of me, Christ in the mouth of everyone who speaks to me, Christ in every eye that sees me,

Christ in every ear that hears me.”

A PAGAN AND WARLIKE NATION

He went to make God known in a nation where idols were worshipped, to preach the Gospel of the Prince of Peace to a people given over to war-Claudian, the poet- laureate of the Emperor Honorius, describes the Irish of those days as setting out for conquest, ploughing the sea with their warships. Nine years later St. Leo succeeded St. Celestine, and for 443 the “Annals of Ulster” have this record: “Patrick, the Bishop, shines in Ireland amidst the fires of the faith and the teaching of Christ.” If one of those warriors to whom Claudian alluded had been away for some years, had seen the change that had taken place in the meantime in the social ways and the religious life of the people, he would have wondered at the transformation. And if he asked what had happened, the simple answer should be: An old man came; he passed over the country; he had some mysterious influence over the people; he proposed strange doctrines and new ways of life quite opposed to what they had been used to; they listened to him with reverence; they were fascinated; they yielded to him without opposition or bloodshed, and the result is what you see. It all strikes one like that narrative in the Gospel, which tells us of the reply which the man to whom Our Divine Lord had restored his sight made to the Pharisees: “How He did it I don’t know; I only know that I was blind, and that I can see now.”

St. Patrick went as a foreigner to Ireland. He did not flatter popular vanity; he opposed popular prejudices; he did not carry to his work the influence of scholarship or natural genius; yet, standing on the brink of the grave, and looking back over the sixty years of his apostolic work, he was so overpowered by the thought of the change which had taken place that he wrote in his “Confessions”: “And who am I, or what is my prayer, 0 Lord, Who hast made known to me so much of Thy Divinity?” he had converted a whole nation, and he had done his work so completely that he could not have a successor in it. It was his work exclusively; the faith and holiness and learning, which grew and strengthened afterwards, was but the effect of the one impulse that he gave. Scholars from the Continent had fled to Ireland from the barbarian invaders. They took with them to that island, as to a place of security, whatever of literature and science had remained with them, together with the tradition of study which they had inherited from the past. They found in those who, under the influence of St. Patrick, had cast off their heathen superstition for Christian faith an eagerness for profane knowledge also. St. Patrick himself was not a man of learning, but he prepared a shrine for it in the new spirit which he had put into the Christians he had made. And now these two strange phenomena appear, attested, not by Irish writers only, but by foreigners, such as St. Bede and St. Bernard, Tillemont, Montalembert and Dollinger- one was a movement to Ireland, which had become a refuge and home for scholars; the other was a movement from Ireland-St. Patrick was hardly fifty years in the grave when pioneers of faith and profane knowledge poured out from Ireland, spread the light amidst the forests of Gaul and Germany, and put new, untainted blood into the Christianity which, corrupted by Arianism, had taken hold of Northern Italy.

A WITNESS TO THE SUPERNATURAL

What I have just said sets the work of St. Patrick before us as a great historical fact, in some respects singular in Christian history, and that historical fact remains with us as a witness to his heavenly visions and to his miraculous life. We cannot otherwise explain his work. There are those who will not allow the supernatural in human affairs, as though the world which God made was no place for Him to act or meddle with; or, at least, they will not hear of a miracle brought in to explain any event since the days of the Apostles, as though God had sent them a message from heaven that He would not meddle in the affairs of men after the Apostles died. How, then, do they account for those facts? Why, quite easily. They call them social psychological phenomena, the cause of which they have not yet succeeded in finding, but promise to find for us, if we only take their word and wait for it. They cannot shut their eyes to the facts; they dare not deny them; but, rather than allow the plain explanation of a supernatural cause for them, they betake themselves to the foolish one of explaining them by the facts themselves expressed in other words, burying them in fine phrases which lead to nothing. I have noticed this only to point out that critics heighten the character of St. Patrick, unknown to themselves, in seeking to keep it low, since the necessity they see for some explanation implies something wonderful in those facts which they think it necessary to explain. It would really have been a greater miracle to have brought about those events without the aid of miracles than to have worked those miracles through which St. Patrick is said to have produced them.

A great event took place the year St. Patrick was sent to Ireland: the Nestorian heresy was condemned. The Nestorians would keep the divine and human nature of Christ apart. Catholic teaching supposes them united into a personal union, for it declares Our Blessed Lady to be the Mother, not of the humanity of Christ merely, but the Mother of God, since the human nature of Christ was assumed into His divine personality. Behold here the greatest manifestation of the supernatural in the world which has ever been, or ever can be: God, taking our human nature, transfigured, supernaturalised it, raised it up from its fallen condition, and Christ became “the first-born of many brothers.” What a motive for our gratitude and thanksgiving! And Mary, one of our fallen race, was made fit to become the Mother of that Son of eternal grace and purity. What an object for our imitation! What a human ideal it sets before us! St. Patrick carried with him to Ireland that teaching so full of dogmatic truth and of devotional and moral consequence; and the mark it made on the religious character of the Irish people has never been blotted or disfigured. Nine years after his arrival in Ireland St. Leo succeeded St. Celestine, and we are told by the “Annals of Ulster” that “Patrick, the Bishop, was approved in the Catholic Faith,” and no successor of St. Leo down to the present Pope has ever had to cancel or change it. The Church which he founded is not a thing of the past, not reduced to a shadow of what it was at any time; it lives and breathes today, palpitating with the life that he gave it, as it was when he committed it to the care of Our Divine Lord and His Blessed Mother in the freshness of its young formation. The work which he had done before he died was a witness to his miraculous life, to the reality of his visions, and it justified the hope he built on them. The Catholic Faith of his children to-day is a living witness to the same, and a witness that has never failed or faltered, for it makes an unbroken chain connecting the twentieth century with the fifth, and of which every link is sound. The Church of St. Patrick is not for the study of the antiquarian: we see and feel it.

CATHOLIC IDEALS

It is part of Catholic teaching that the State is subject to the moral law, and for the same reason that the individual is. The nation no more than the individual can get outside the authority of God. There is a phrase which passes current today-that religion and politics, Church and State, have nothing to do with each other. What is really meant is not that religion should not touch politics or influence public life, but that politics may touch religion and bend it to its way. But by what process can it come to pass that the multitude of persons who compose a nation are not bound by the moral law which binds them one by one?

LOVE OF GOD AND COUNTRY

Hence, for Catholics, love of country and loyalty to civil government are not a mere natural sentiment for which one has to answer to public opinion only; they are a moral obligation, for which one is accountable to God. They are a religious obligation, which binds in conscience; and hence, with Irish Catholics, the—national watchword has always been Faith and Fatherland, not Fatherland and Faith. They rightly think that if religion has any real meaning at all, they should be Catholic first and Irish afterwards; not that these two elements should be separate, but that they should be kept inseparable, as they have always been. Being an individual, being a member of a family, being a citizen of a State, are only different moral relations which each one bears.

I can illustrate that Catholic ideal without taking you from where we are. Beside this church,* in a large hall, where Wadding wrote, and where Harold, Ponce, and Barron taught, the Cardinal-Protector of Ireland used to inaugurate the work of his office. Every Catholic nation had a Cardinal-Protector assigned to it, whose office was to represent it before the Holy See and to take care that its rights were duly regarded. It was an institution which arose in medieval times, and had its origin, I suppose, in the Christian Empire which began with Charlemagne. Now, when the hopes which the Confederation of Kilkenny had raised of casting off the misrule of the Tudors and of the first Stuarts were blighted; when Rinuccini had left the country, and age anddisappointment had left O”Neill powerless, the Cromwellian rebels, who murdered their king, passed over into Ireland, and butchered or banished or reduced to silence the Catholics of that country for a time. After the Restoration, the Catholics of Ireland stood by Charles II, and again they were loyal to James whilst his own drove him from his throne and country. And when all was lost but honour, they made a treaty with William at Limerick-and, what is better, they kept it. It was a contract between two nations, and it bound in conscience, as every free contract does. They did not look on it as merely an expedient arrangement which they might keep or break according to the gain or loss it brought them. It had a moral sanction; it was a law to them, and, therefore, they were loyal to it. The Catholics of Ireland have ever been loyal to law; they have never been loyal to iniquity-let us pray they never shall. In direct contradiction of that international contract came a succession of laws woven one into another with careful ingenuity so as to preclude all evasion. They hung like a cloud over the country, and for one hundred and fifty years they crushed the hearts of the people. To borrow a phrase used by a well-known philosopher of the last century, they set the right of force against the force of right. But force cannot make right; force does not consecrate its deed. Wrong is not less a wrong because it is decreed by a Legislature; and illegal resistance or evasion became the natural protection against immoral laws. And so the Catholics of Ireland rightly disowned what force made them endure. Were they bound in conscience by laws which confiscated their lands, drove their families from their homes, or made them serfs in the lands they once possessed? Were they bound to respect decrees which deprived them of the churches they had built, and gave them over to an alien worship contradictory of their Faith? Were they bound in conscience to respect laws which made them keep those same churches in repair, pay for the support of the false worship which was brought in to supplant their own, and when those churches were let go to ruin, to contribute to the erection of others in their place?

FROM A HIDING-PLACE

In a parish in Queen’s County, a popular tradition has come down for some generations, that the local chapel was once surrounded during Mass, set fire to, and that priest and congregation were burned and buried beneath the ruins. During the past few months the parish priest, to test the truth of the tradition, had the place excavated, and the ghastly reality came to light in the skulls and bones of a few hundred persons, with the chalice which was used at the Holy Sacrifice. I once made a visit to a Mass-rock hidden away in a mountain cave, and it was not without emotion that I gazed on that rude and lonely altar around which the people used to gather by stealth to hear Mass in other days, whilst I looked out over the valley at the well-built preaching-church, where half a dozen persons at most assembled once a week for prayers. A few days ago I happened to read some letters written to the Papal Internuncio at Brussels by the successor of St. Patrick in the early part of the eighteenth century. He was a man of noble family, but he dared not to sign his name to any of those letters, and he addressed them, as did all the Irish Bishops of those days, “ex loco refugii.” In those times, the original of the Papal Brief, by which an Irish Bishop was appointed, was never sent to the Bishop; it was kept in the office of the Internuncio. Only a copy containing the mere essentials was sent, lest it should become known to Government that the Vicar of Christ had dared to appoint a Catholic ecclesiastic to a vacant Catholic See of a Catholic people and country.

The darkness of those times was giving way to the dawn of a better day, when the Catholics of Ireland were let hear Mass in chapels hidden away in the lanes of the cities, or in rude buildings, mostly thatched, scattered here and there over the country. But so late as a century ago no bells should toll from those chapels to summon the people to Mass, until a happy thought inspired one priest to evade the law by hanging his chapel bell from a neighbouring tree; others followed his example, and the law finally went out before the mockery of the people. And was not its death worthy of its birth?

THE ENDURING FAITH OF IRELAND

I have said that the work of St. Patrick is not a subject of antiquarian research for it lives. Fifteen hundred years ago the Irish nation was baptized and born into Christ. The film of paganism was raised from her eyes; she saw the eternal truth and beauty of the Catholic Faith, and she has never lost sight of it. Her children have ever since been born into Christ, one by one, and that supernatural life has been the bond of their natural life and the mainstay of their enduring national existence. In many parts of Ireland there is a beautiful custom which illustrates how the supernatural is realised there. The messenger who calls a priest at night to prepare a sick person for death insists on accompanying him back again to his home. The Catholic instinct of the people will not let Our Divine Lord be taken back alone after He had come to console and strengthen a dying member of their household. The custom may be a lingering relic of a procession of the Blessed Sacrament, which the Ritual orders; its original and true significance may have been lost but the supernatural and the living root is there. It was my good fortune to have studied under one of the most illustrious professors who taught in the Roman schools during the last century. He was sublime and deep as he was eloquent. I well remember this: As he tried to explain how the finite intellect of the blessed in heaven can see directly into the infinite essence of God, illustrating it with his fervid and nervous eloquence, I recognised in a theological term which he used a saying I had known from childhood, and familiarity had made me understand its meaning. “The light of glory to your soul” is a phrase used in Ireland by old and young, rich and poor, learned and illiterate, in that simple faith which realises the Unseen, and sees more vividly than science. It has come down as an expression of mutual goodwill from those times when the thoughts of Catholics in Ireland turned most towards the rewards of the next life, because they found themselves shut out from all hope of happiness or justice in this.

THE SOUL OF A NATION

And their supernatural life has become also the mainstay of their national life. The soul of a nation can never die, except of moral corruption. Brute force may grind to powder the material elements that compose it, but if it rests on the moral law it will revive and put out its activity again. A nation that lives in God lives by purity, by justice, by fortitude, by hope. It may have to pass through its winter of bleak distress, but its spring and summer are sure to come round, and it will bloom again like every tree that grows. That leads us into the secret of this striking fact. By the middle of the eighteenth century the Catholics of Ireland had been reduced to about two-thirds of the population. By the middle of the nineteenth they were in a majority of six to one. In spite of the consequences of the famine of 1847-a famine not because there was not food, but because it was taken from those who produced it, and under the sanction of the law-in spite of wholesale evictions, of the dispersion of families, and other causes of the continuous depopulation which has been going on for the past seventy years till now, the Catholics are still in a majority of three to one. There has been a systematic design to destroy the race, and yet the race lives on. There may be more than one cause of that striking phenomenon, but the chief one has its root in the faith of the people. The teaching of the Divine Motherhood of Our Blessed Lady, which St. Patrick took to Ireland as it came fresh from the Council of Ephesus; the ideal of her virginal purity, which that teaching stamped on the souls and hearts of the women of Ireland; reverence for the sanctity of the marriage state: these have saved Irish Catholics from those two growths of our fashionable civilisation-the divorce court and the suicide of race. Their faith has saved them from that filth. Their faith is not a mere philosophy; it is a life. They live by their Catholic Faith; they hold by their national ideals, which that faith has helped them to form and to keep. And they have never been forgiven for it- no, not from the day when Giraldus Cambrensis lied in the twelfth century, to the politician and the news correspondent who lie to-day, and lie without scruple and without shame.

THE FAITH IS SPREAD ABROAD

And where is the work of St. Patrick in evidence today? Outside the inner life of the people, the history of Catholic Ireland in modern times can be rend better over the face of the country than in written documents, for those who have done destruction there have destroyed also, as far as possible, the written records of their deeds. But their deeds are recorded in the ruin they made. Read it, then, in the dismantled monasteries and burnt churches, from Quin and Cashel to Donegal and Carrickfergus; in the loose walls which remain of those humble chapels in which the people worshipped from the close of the eighteenth century to the latter part of the nineteenth. A little while ago you could read it in the ruined homes of families dispersed and gone, but that record, too, has been blotted out, for grass grows and cattle feed where those families once passed their peaceful lives, bound together in human sympathy and Christian love. Read it again, and the lesson it teaches is worth learning, in the fist and second generations of those same families, who have grown in number and in power in the busy centres of Great Britain, America, and Australasia; in the lives of those who have become makers and guardians of law in their exile, but were its victims at home-andthey don’t forget the past; in the schools and colleges, the orphanages and hospitals they build and support; in the glorious memorial they have raised to the name of Our Blessed Lady in the Cathedral of Sydney, and in those they have raised to the name of St. Patrick in the Cathedrals of Melbourne and New York. And read it in the resurrection of the dry bones in Ireland itself; in those new and beautiful churches which those who have stayed at home have built all over the country, from Queenstown to Armagh, their steeples beckoning from earth to heaven, as if to keep the people in mind of St. Paul’s warning that “we have not here a lasting city, but we seek one that is to come.”

WHY THIS WASTE?

It is all an expression of an undying faith in the supernatural. But St. Paul also wrote: “The animal man understandeth not the things of God.” He knows the world he lives in and lives for, but he does not understand the ways of the world that is outside and above it. Hence, naturalism raises his voice in cynical reproach; and this is what he says: Why this waste? Why not use the money those churches cost in reviving the industries you once had?- industries which he has legislated out of existence; in opening factories you once had?-and which he has taken care to close; in developing the resources of your country?-resources which he has long since dried up. It is a cruel criticism; it is a heartless voice; but it comes back on the naturalism that speaks it. It brings a double discredit in seeking to conceal a wrong, and it has not even the merit of originality. Whilst Our Divine Lord was at supper in the house of Simon the leper, Mary Magdalen, in gratitude for His mercy, came with costly ointments to anoint Him. But there was one present who was greatly scandalised, and he said, “Why this waste? Could not the money those ointments cost be given to the poor?” He was Judas lscariot. But there was another present who said that Judas spoke as he did, not because he loved the poor, but because he loved the purse-he was St. John, the beloved disciple of Our Divine Lord.

AN EXPRESSION OF FAITH

Naturalism says, “I advise them, and I long to help them; but they dream their lives away, and will not heed me; they have vain ideas of life, and cannot or will not, understand me.” To all this Irish Catholics have a very plain and telling reply: “Ah, yes, we understand you well, and we have good reason. The tears you shed for us are the tears of the crocodile. It is not those costly churches that give you pain, but it is that we have any churches at all.

They stand out as an earnest to the world of our Catholic life and of our reviving Catholic activity, but they are also memorials of your failure after you had done your worst. Therefore, you badly bear the sight of them. You never reproved us for straining our poverty to pay the rack-rent and the tithe-rent, the church cess and the taxes. No, indeed; you approved-nay, you compelled us. Your anxiety lest our poverty be overborne begins when the money spent becomes an expression of our faith and an evidence of your failure. Again, it is you made our poverty, not we; it is we pay for those churches; not you; and we have neither sought your approval nor do we heed your reproach. We go our own way. We recognise that our way is not your way; we own it; and, what will possibly surprise you, we rejoice in the distinction. Whilst we are in this world, like you we value “our daily bread,” but, unlike you, we believe that “not in bread alone doth man live.” You took possession of the churches our fathers built; some of them are long since in ruins, and the rest are empty. We have built others to take their place, and we fill them. Choose your own ideals; we prefer those of Magdalen the penitent, and of St. John, the Apostle of Love. She bought costly ointments to show her love for her Saviour, and the Apostle of Love approved what she did in reproving the Pharisee who blamed her. It is the same Apostle of Love tells us that “the Word was made flesh and dwelt amongst us.” He dwells amongst us still, and, therefore, we build costly churches and costly altars to enshrine Him; and, like Magdalen, we don’t grudge the cost. We enclose those altars, too, with costly altar-rails, but we surround them with something infinitely more precious than marble: penitent souls, who, purified by the Sacrament of Penance, show their love for and their need of their Saviour by approaching these altar-rails to receive Him. We have our shortcomings, like the rest of mankind, but we know it. But our faith gives us hope, and we have trust in the good God, Who has preserved us through many difficulties and grievous trials unto this day. The thought of St. Paul keeps ever sounding in our souls:

“We are confident of this very thing, that He Who began the good work in us will perfect the same unto the day of Jesus Christ.”

Nihil obstat:

J. DONOVAN, Censor Deputatus

Imprimatur:

@ D. MANNIX,

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis

********

Saint Paul’s Plan For Making Converts

BY R. CAMERON, O.S.A., B.A., M.SC

INDEX

IDEALISM

As G. K. Chesterton says, “For the man of action there is nothing but idealism.” Down through the ages there has never lived a great man who was not an idealist. It is idealism which can muster all our human energies, tap all our resources, and direct all our inner drives towards some great accomplishment. St. Paul was an idealist.

The most ardent man who ever lived was this great Apostle of the Gentiles. With a burning zeal that was a force invincible, he went forth to preach Christ in every corner of the then known world. All through his apostolic life the source of his abounding ardour was in Christ. He himself said that it was the love of Jesus that pressed him on. His high ideal was Christ.

Entirely captivated by his own profound knowledge of Christ and enslaved to his divine Ideal, the Apostle pressed on always, doing all things for Christ and for His Church. Never before had there been a man so motivated by such mighty ideas. It has been truthfully said that powerful ideas have arms and legs that force us into action. Paul was thus forced into action.

HIS GREAT IDEA

So Paul’s great idea was that of the Mystical Body of Christ. His burning ambition was to strengthen and build up the Body of Christ, to extend the divine life of Jesus down through humanity to every man on earth. That was his goal, his great objective. He worked not merely for the Jews but for the Gentiles also, pushing back the borders of Palestine to embrace the whole world. He knew no horizons in Christ. On fire with a limitless love of Jesus and steeped in an exceedingly profound knowledge of Christ, he poured forth all his human resources and sacrificed his life for the sake of spreading this knowledge and love of Jesus Christ, Our Lord.

The doctrine of the Mystical Body of Christ is the key to an understanding of St. Paul’s apostolic mentality. This doctrine runs like a golden thread through the pattern of all his Epistles. It is his ever recurring theme, the very hub of his thought, the explanation of his attitude towards almost everything. This was his mighty doctrine, so simple and yet so very profound; so beautiful and yet so mightily powerful.

THE MYSTICAL BODY

So close and so complete is the union of Catholics with Christ that St. Paul calls the Church the “Body of Christ.” Just as all the different parts of a human body are united and share in the life of one body, so also are the Catholics united with Christ. We all share in the Life of Jesus and form one living Body with Him.

The Mystical Body, therefore, is simply the Church. We Catholics are so completely united to Christ that we form one Body with Him. By our Baptism we are born into the Mystical Body and, when those clear Baptismal waters flow, the life of Jesus floods into our souls. It is at that mighty moment that we become members of the Mystical Body of Jesus which is His Church. We are baptized into Christ.

In his Epistles, St. Paul uses the ex pression: “In Christ Jesus” or its equivalent over one hundred and fifty times. We need not wonder at this, for the expression bears a deep significance. A person is said to be “In Christ” when, by Baptism, he has become a member of Christ in His Mystical Body. It is a marvellous thing, therefore, to be a Catholic. Perhaps the best definition of a Catholic is simply this: “A Catholic is a person in Christ.”

By falling into heresy, apostasy, or schism, we Catholics can cut ourselves off from the Mystical Body. The Pope has the power to cut members off, by a decree of excommunication. Not all excommunications however, have this dire effect, since the severity of the penalty depends on the intention of the Pontiff in each case.

Mortal sin will not cut a Catholic from the Body unless, of course, it is a sin of heresy, apostasy, or schism. When a Catholic is in mortal sin he is like a corrupt member of the Body, but he is still a member. By a good confession he can have his sins forgiven and the life of Jesus will flood his soul again.

LOVE OF HUMANITY

Everybody loves a lover and even a most casual acquaintance with this doctrine of the Mystical Body is enough to let us see that it is a doctrine of tremendous love. It gives us an entirely new outlook on humanity by investing humble human beings with the dignity of Christ. In the eyes of our fellow men we see the deep, clear eyes of Jesus and in their faces we recognise a countenance that is divine. For the love of Christ we are inspired to pour forth our love towards all the people. It is this love of Christ and this love of the people in Christ that is the secret of St. Paul’s great social dynamism. He preaches a doctrine that is meant for all the people. Never before was there such a boon to humanity. The Mystical Body is a worldwide union of all humanity in love.

A NEW SENSE OF VALUES

Once this glorious vision of humanity in Christ was emblazoned in the mind of St. Paul, he changed his entire outlook on life. His whole world was of a different colour, now that he was looking at all things through the eyes of Jesus. He completely reshuffled his sense of values. His one aim and one ambition was to draw all men to Christ and to unite all humanity into the sweet harmony and concord of one living Body. Anything that helped him towards this objective, he highly treasured. He deeply appreciated any assistance extended to him in his apostolic work, however small that assistance might be. He judged all things according as they were a help or a hindrance to Jesus Christ.

St. Paul was wholly and entirely an Apostle. Nothing in this world was of more importance to him than his apostolate. No work could conceivably be placed before this great work of extending Christ down through humanity. His exciting apostolate was not merely a hobby or something extra done on the side. It absorbed his whole life; it enlisted all his talents; it exhausted all his resources. As he himself cried out, “Woe to me if I do not preach the gospel.’ (1 Cor. 9, 17)

A COMPLETE PLAN FOR ACTION

In his Epistles and by his own example, St. Paul has given us a complete plan for apostolic action. Through this great Apostle, God has revealed to us ways and means of spreading the Faith. Here we find a solution to all the major difficulties confronting us in our own apostolic work. We learn the attitudes we should take towards various things and the policies we should adopt in all sorts of circumstances. A study of St. Paul, therefore, will be most profitable to us if we, like him, hope to build up the Body of Christ and spread the Faith. He gives us a revealed plan for action.

Expressed in its briefest form, St. Paul’s plan for action is simply the Mystical Body of Christ, but, in order to appreciate more fully the dynamic character of this doctrine, it would be very profitable for us to see exactly how the Apostle applied this glorious truth to various difficulties which confronted him in his apostolic life. We shall find that his problems were strikingly similar to those which are perplexing the minds of zealous Catholics in our own modern times. St. Paul will teach us how to become champions for the cause of Catholicism.

ALL THINGS TO ALL MEN

When a young man begins to move about in society, he soon begins to realize that there are some people whom he likes and some whom he intensely dislikes. A clash of’ personalities is quite a common occurrence, in human relationships. As a result of this, most of us tend to mix more and more with the people we like and less with the people we dislike. By no stretch of the imagination are we all things to all men. Our kindness to some even accentuates our unkindness to others. All this is obviously opposed to the idea of our loving all men in Christ and to the mind of St. Paul who says; “I became all things to all men, that I might save all.” (1Cor. 9. 22)

We must strive to overcome any natural repugnance which we feel for certain people. Keep in mind that Jesus not only loves these people, but even desires to embrace them, and unite them all as one Body with Himself. Because of our human weakness, we may try to avoid these unpleasant people, but Christ desires to draw them to Himself and to give them a share in His own divine Life. All true love tends towards union, and Jesus has loved all men. He desires to unite all humanity to Himself in one Body. We, therefore, must be all things to all men. We must be kind to those in need of kindness; sympathetic to those in need of sympathy; helpful to those in need of help. We must turn away from no man, but strive to draw all men towards Jesus Christ. Christ desires to drawall things’ to Himself in love.

SERVICE TO ALL MEN

Most of us think we have done enough if we merely tolerate those people whom we dislike. We regard ourselves as heroes if we suffer them in silence without being openly unkind and abusive. But this is not enough. We must not merely tolerate these people; but rather should we strive unceasingly to bring good to them by increasing Christ in them.

“To Greeks and to foreigners, to learned and unlearned I am debtor,” says St. Paul (Rom. 1, 14) We also should regard ourselves as owing a debt to all men. Every man is our creditor, for we owe him a debt in Christ. As Apostles of Jesus, it is our duty to give the gift of Christ to every man. The debt we owe is an increase in Christ. We must not be content in merely tolerating people, but rather should we strive to extend their knowledge of Jesus and deepen their love. We must present ourselves as servants to all men in order to bring them all to Christ. “I myself in all things please all men,” says St. Paul, “not seeking what is profitable to myself but to the many, that they may be saved. Be imitators ofme as I am of Christ.” (1 Cor. 11, 1)

ADAPTABILITY

One of the most useful qualities that can be developed in an Apostle and one which will make his work much easier and more effective is that of adaptability. No form of activity has more variety in it than the apostolate of Christ. All sorts of situations have to be met and dealt with. A wide variety of circumstances is always affecting the activity of an apostle who comes into close contact with humanity at its best and at its worst. No two personalities are exactly the same and no two people have precisely the same outlook on life. In order to bring Christ into any environment, therefore, the Apostle needs to have developed a high degree of adaptability.

St. Paul’s adaptability was most striking. He himself says. “I have learned to be self sufficing in whatever circumstances I am. I know how to live humbly and I know how to live in abundance. I have been schooled in every place and in every condition.” (Phil. 4, 11)

In the “Acts of the Apostles” we see S t. Paul in action and setting us an example for our imitation. It is very remarkable to notice how he adapts himself to the various circumstances in which he finds himself. When preaching to the Israelites, he began by referring to the glorious Patriarchs 04~ Israel and from that starting point, he led their thoughts to Jesus Christ. When preaching at Athens, he began by referring to the Athenians as extremely religious men, and he went on to direct their attention to the “Unknown God,” for in the city he had seen an altar bearing that inscription. He preached about this Unknown God and finally led their thoughts to Jesus Christ. The Apostle invariably adapted himself to his audience.

This policy of adaptation does not mean that we should always try to be very nice and gentle. Effeminate sweetness seems out of place in an Apostle. We must strive to flood the whole world with the kindness of Christ and honeycomb all human life with this love, but we must never stoop to sickly sentimentality. In some circumstances firmness and harsh words are called for, as for example when Paul met Elymas on the island of Cyprus. Elymas had been trying to turn away the proconsul from the path. Paul gazed at him and said, “0 full of all guile and of all deceit, son of the devil, enemy of all justice, will you not cease to make crooked the straight ways of the Lord? And now, behold, the hand of the Lord is upon you and you shall be blind.” (Acts 13, 10) At that moment Elymas was struck blind!

When we see the Apostle making such ferocious attacks on the enemies of Christ, our own reaction might be a mixture of fear and awe. In the attack St. Paul was a most desperate and ferocious man. His words came forth like peals of thunder. By the violence of his approach he smashed rank paganism to pieces and, like a flash of lightning he struck from east to west and set the whole world on fire with the love of Christ. It is really true that Paul set the world on fire. But when in the company of women, Paul adapted himself perfectly to their gentler nature. He himself was the most masculine of men, but he fully appreciated the softer side of life. He could adapt himself to anything. One day, during his stay in the city of Philippi, Paul took a walk outside the gates of the city down to the banks of the river. There was a group of women there, so Paul sat down to converse with them. After a short while, of course, the Apostle had introduced Jesus Christ into the conversation and one of the women, whose name was Lydia, was converted to the Faith. Lydia then invited Paul and his friends to stay at her home and accept her hospitality during their stay at Philippi. Paul was reluctant to accept the invitation, but was unable to resist Lydia’s demands. As he himself says, “She insisted upon our coming.” (Acts 16, 15) So Lydia had her way. Even the mighty Apostle to the Gentiles could not have his own way with women.

A BURNING ZEAL

Without a burning zeal it is impossible to do great things for the cause of Christ. As St. Paul says, “Our God is a consuming fire.” (Heb. 12, 29) Writing to Timothy, he exhorts him ever to increase his zeal for Christ. “Preach the word,” he says. “Be urgent in season and out of season.” (2 Tim. 4, 2) Once our hearts are truly inflamed with the love of Jesus, then we can hardly help but be zealous. Seeing Christ in others, we will be inspired to undertake great things for His sake. “The love of Christ presses us on,” says St. Paul. (2 Cor. 3, 14) And we will not be continually postponing our works of zeal. We will not leave off till tomorrow the good that we can do today. Realizing that life is only too short, we will immediately set about doing things for the love of Christ. “While we yet have time,” says St. Paul, “let us do good to all men.” (Gal. 6, 10)

CONFIDENCE

The mainspring of zeal is the love of Christ and a perfect confidence in Him. Christ is a leader who will not let us down. So long as we are faithful to Him we can be sure of eventual triumph. “Thanks be to God,” says St. Paul, “who always leads us in triumph inChrist Jesus.” (2 Cor. 2, 14) Supported in our work by the tremendous power of Jesus living on in us, we can look forward to inevitable victory, for Christ overcomes the world. Our confidence is in Christ.

Of ourselves we are nothing. The enemies of Christ might be more numerous, more wealthy, more powerful than we are. But we rely, not upon our own weakness but upon the power of Christ. “The weak things of this world has God chosen to put t3 shame the strong,” says St. Paul (1 Cor. 1, 27)

Far from being a source of discouragement, our own weakness is rather an additional reason for being more confident in the mighty power of Jesus Christ, who lives on in us. We can even glory in our helplessness. “Gladly therefore,” cries St. Paul, “will I glory in my infirmities, that the strength of Christ may dwell in me. Wherefore I am satisfied, for Christ’s sake, with infirmities, with insults, with hardships, with persecutions, with distress. For when I am weak, then I am strong.” (2 Cor. 12:9)

PATIENCE

Without the virtue of patience, it is clearly impossible to become a great apostle of Christ. If we hope to lead others to Christ, then we must not display even the slightest touch of impatience. Regardless of how trying the situation might be, we must not he impatient or unkind, even to the slightest degree. We must be endlessly long-suffering. We must endure all things and tolerate all people. The slightest trace of impatience could ruin all our work for Christ. “We endure all things,” says St. Paul, “lest we hinder the gospel of Christ.” (1 Cor. 9, 12)

In our apostolic work we are bound to meet with insults, injuries, and persecutions. Irreligious people will laugh at us and try to belittle us. They will offend us with the hope of seeing us retaliate. They will try to break down our resistance and undermine our composure. There is nothing that the ~ would enjoy more than to see us give way to anger and impatience. We must endure all these things for the love of Christ and turn these trials into opportunities of showing our love of Christ. Far from hindering us in our apostolic work, these vicious attacks will be stepping stones to greater triumphs. As St. Paul says, “For those who love God, all things work unto good.” (Rom. 8, 28) When we are tempted to impatience, that is the moment for us to win a new victory for Christ. We must repay unkindness with kindness. We must overcome evil with good. “To no man render evil for evil,” says St. Paul, “but provide good things, not only in the sight of God but also in the sight of men. If it is possible, as far as in you lies, but at peace with all men.” (Rom. 12, 16)

Patience is a virtue that can be practised almost every hour of the day. Especially is it necessary in any form of social work where we are rubbing shoulders with all humanity day by day. We must be patient with ignorance, patient with bigotry, patient with indifference, patient with levity, patient with thoughtlessness. In all things we must exhibit the patience of Christ.

“May the God of patience and of comfort grant you to be of one mind towards one another, according to Jesus Christ, that, one in spirit, you may with one voice, glorify God, the Father of Our Lord Jesus Christ.” (Rom. 15, 5)

PEACE

Some people, who are supposedly working for the cause of Christ, succeed merely in doing a lot of harm by stirring up a hornet’s nest of trouble. By their indiscretion they do much more harm than good. They stir up bitter and pointless arguments which often end in shameful quarrels. They offend people and thereby turn them even further away from Christ.

“Avoid foolish and ignorant controversies, knowing that they breed quarrels,” says St. Paul. (2 Tim. 2, 23) This is very true indeed, for the most of our heated arguments do accomplish very little or nothing for Christ. Usually they end in unkindness and strife.

“Follow after the things that make for peace,” says St. Paul, “and let us safe guard the things that make for mutual edification.” (Rom. 14, 19) It is in a peaceful atmosphere of kindness and sympathy that the Faith is most likely to make progress. We must avoid all harsh words and unseemly wrangle. As the Apostle says, “God is a God of peace and not of disorder.” (1 Cor. 14, 23)

The purpose on this earth of the Mystical Body of Christ is to establish a worldwide union of love in the peace of Christ. We strive always for peace, and the methods we employ are always peaceful. Our only hope for a lasting peace in this world lies in the harmony and concord of Christ.

“May the peace of Christ reign in your hearts,” says St. Paul. “Unto that peace indeed, you were called in one Body. Show yourselves thankful. Let the word of Christ abound in you abundantly.” (Col. 3, 15)

CHEERFULNESS

A cheerful disposition is a very valuable asset to the apostle. A person with such a disposition is almost universally liked. Cheerfulness makes us more acceptable to most men. It is only the person with a very morbid mentality who does not appreciate cheerfulness in the right place. Cheerfulness, therefore, is something which we ought to cultivate.

But our cheerfulness, like all other things, must be based on Christ. The exciting thought of being continually united as one with Christ and sharing in His life should be to us a perpetual source of joy. As St. Paul cries out, “Rejoice in the Lord always, again I say rejoice!” (Phil. 4, 4) Our joy and our cheerfulness are in Christ.

In our relationships with other people it is very helpful if we can maintain a cheerful atmosphere in which to work. Especially in our acts of charity is it necessary to be always cheerful. A grouchy disposition seems almost incompatible with noble acts of charity. As St. Paul observes, “God loves a cheerful giver,” (2 Cor. 8, 8) We might add that not only God, but men also, love a cheerful giver.

GOOD EXAMPLE

Good example speaks louder than words. That is a very trite saying, but a very true one. In writing to his dear friend, Timothy, St. Paul exhorts him, saying,”Be an example to the faithful in speech, in conduct, in charity, in faith, in chastity.” (1 Tim. 4, 12) The Apostle holds himself up as an example to the Corinthians, saying, “Be imitators of me as I am of Christ,” (1 Cor. 4, 16) Just as St. Paul was thus able to hold himself up as an example of Christlike living, so we also ought to be able to radiate the charm of Christ in this, our modem world. We too should be imitators of Christ, Not by words only, but by our example also, should we radiate Christ in love. To this world we should present an image of Christ reflected in our conduct.

Words without example are empty and useless. In modern times too much is said and far too little done. Many people talk enthusiastically about religion, but do not practise it enthusiastically. It is much better so see a sermon lived than merely to hear it preached. Good example has a tremendous influence on all those who are fortunate enough to witness it.

If we dare to call ourselves Apostles of Christ and yet do not live good Christian lives, we are hypocrites and we are unworthy to be called Apostles. Before we set about extending Christ to others we must be such that we ourselves are holding firm to Him. We should lend an attentive ear to the sound advice of St. Paul, who says, “Let your lives be worthy of the gospel of Christ.” (Phil. 1, 27)

PRAYER

“With all prayer and supplication pray at all times in the Spirit, and therein be vigilant in all perseverance and supplication for all the saints and for me, that when I open my mouth utterance may be granted to me fearlessly to make known the mystery ofthe gospel for which I am an ambassador in chains,” (Eph. 6, 18)

St. Paul herein makes an urgent appeal for constant prayers of the faithful, asking them to pray at all times for the success of his own apostolate.

MORTIFICATION

“I chastise my body and b ring it into subjection, lest perhaps, while I preach to others, I myself become a castaway,” (1 Cor. 9, 27)

St. Paul here lays down the necessity for mortification and penance in the life of an apostolic person. It is quite possible for us to become so absorbed in cur active work for others that we neglect our own spiritual life and eventually become spiritually bankrupt. This mistake is sometimes called the “heresy of good works” and it is a rather common one in modern times, especially where apostolic work is associated with a series of social functions. Many persons have set out as apostles, but have soon degenerated into mere social playboys. They feel that their intense social activity is necessary for the success of their apostolate, and perhaps they are quite right in many instances. But all this activity must be accompanied by an intensely spiritual life of prayer and mortification.

Some mortification is necessary if we are to attain any degree of detachment from the things of this world. It is almost impossible for an unmortified soul to work very effectively for the cause of Christ. Where the heart is divided and the effections are all tied up with things of this world, the power of Christ cannot operate to the maximum. Only the mortified and detached soul can participate fully in the great apostolate of Christ. St. Paul was such a soul. From what he says in his Epistles to the Philippians we can see that he had acquired a very high detachment from the things of this world.

“But the things that were gain to me, he says, “these, for the sake of Christ, I have counted loss. Nay more, I count everything loss because of the exceeding knowledge of Jesus Christ, my Lord. For His sake I have suffered the loss of all things and I count them as dung that I may gain Christ.” (Phil. 3, 7)

Here we have a graphic picture of a highly mortified soul, entirely detached from the things of this world, for the affections are all directed towards Christ. Such a soul is a docile instrument in the hands of God and it is therefore capable of becoming a great apostle.

SEX

In our apostolic work a disturbing fact which we have to face is the fact of sex. It is useless to try to ignore the sex problem or to dodge it. It has to be reckoned with. There are some optimistic souls who, through lack of realism, try to ignore this problem, but in time it suddenly flares up again with even greater violence than before.

Sex is quite a problem. We do not intend to consider the entire sex problem here, but merely those aspects of it which directly affect the activities of a person working as an apostle of Jesus Christ.

There are two major considerations which we have to deal with; firstly the weakness of fallen human nature, and secondly, the great power of Christ.

Prudence demands that, even in the performance of the most holy activities, we must never ignore the frightful weakness of our own human nature. Sometimes, even in our apostolic work we may find ourselves grievously tempted. Since ours is a fallen nature, our sexual passions can become very disorderly and usually are so unless we keep them under very firm control.

In his Epistle to the Romans, St. Paul describes most graphically the terrible struggle that goes on in a soul striving to lift itself above its own weakness. “I am delighted with the law of God according to the inner man, but I see another law in my members warring against the law of my mind and making me prisoner to the law of sin that is in my members. Unhappy man that I am! Who will deliver me from the body of this death? The grace of God through Jesus Christ, Our Lord.” (Row. 7, 22)

St. Paul comes to the conclusion, therefore, that his only hope lies in the grace of God, which comes to him in Christ. The Apostle relies, not upon the strength of his own will power, for that is exceedingly weak, but rather does he rely upon the power of Jesus Christ. His entire hope is in Christ.

While we admit the utter weakness of our human nature, we must, nonetheless, be greatly encouraged by the consideration of Jesus Christ living on in us and strengthening us in grace. The influence of Jesus over us is far more powerful than we can begin toimagine. With Him strengthening us, we can overcome all temptations. “I can do all things,” says St. Paul, “in Him who strengthens me.”

There are, therefore, two extremes to be avoided. Firstly, there is the imprudent attitude of those who, ignoring the dangers, rush with foolish abandon into situations where angels would fear to tread. Then, on the other hand, there are those puritanical souls who, by their exaggerated circumspection, merely aggravate the problem by over-accentuating the evil aspects of sex. We ourselves must strive to steer a middle course by being neither Puritans nor libertines. We must acquire a wholesome outlook on sex by seeing in it the beauty of God’s marvellous designs, but also seeing in it those dangers which, like a dormant volcano, might erupt most unexpectedly. Because of our weakness, we must never regard ourselves as strong, for even the mighty cedars of Lebanon have been known to fall.

The doctrine of the Mystical Body casts a radiant light on the entire problem of sex. The human body is a sacred thing for it is united to the Body of Jesus. Our humanity has become a new humanity for Christ. To dishonour a human body, therefore, is to dishonour Christ Himself. “Do you not know,” says St. Paul, “that your bodies are members of Christ (Cor. 6, 15)

Ever mindful, therefore, of the Life of Jesus which pulsates powerfully in our souls, we should go forth in confidence to all our apostolic activities. Our confidence is entirely based upon Christ, who lives on in us and strengthens us in every time of need. Not with nervous timidity, therefore, but rather with manly confidence, should we go forth to our great apostolic adventure. In our dealings with the opposite sex we should be light-hearted and free from constant strain and worry. As St. Paul says, “I would have you free from care.” (1 Cor. 7, 32) The Apostle himself had a host of women friends. He enjoyed their company and they were a bulwark of strength to him in his labours for the Gospel.

HUMILITY

An apostle of Christ needs many virtues, but he needs some more than others. One of the most important of the virtues is humility. A proud man is usually despised and hated by his fellow man, while the humble man is loved and really admired. Christian leadership is founded, not on pride and arrogance, but rather on humility and simplicity. Only a humble man can become a Christian hero.

St. Paul was one of the humblest of men. Knowing his nothingness, he tells the Corinthians, “I am the least of the Apostles and am not worthy to be called an apostle, because I persecuted the Church of God. But by the grace of God I am what I am and his grace in me has not been fruitless.” (1 Cor. 15, 9)

In his dealings with the ordinary faithful, Paul was never domineering. He never once abused his authority or assumed an arrogant attitude. On the contrary, he was characterized by the simple humility of Christ. “I humbled myself,” he says to the Corinthians, “that you might be exalted, preaching to you the gospel of God free of charge.” (2 Cor. 11, 7)

While in the company of others, therefore, we should always be humble in our whole demeanour. Some Catholics who are trying to instruct others in the Faith, assume an attitude of intellectual superiority as though the non-Catholic were completely ignorant and misinformed. This proud attitude, of course, is quite unbecoming in a person who is supposed to represent Jesus Christ, and very often it breeds antagonism, rather than a fondness towards the Faith. We should never flaunt our learning and parade our knowledge in order to appear high and mighty. Such behaviour can accomplish nothing for the Gospel. Rather should we, as little children, be content to know Jesus and that is enough. All we need to know is Jesus Christ. If we know Him well, then we are well equipped for the apostolate, even though we may be ignorant of many other things. St. Paul, who was actually an unparalleled genius, used a very humble approach when coming to the Corinthians. “When I came to you,” he says, “I did not come with pretentious speech or wisdom, announcing to you the witness of Christ. For I determined not to know anything among you, except Jesus Christ and Him crucified. And I was with you in weakness and in fear and in much trembling. And my speech and m v preaching were not in the persuasive words of wisdom, but in the demonstration of the Spirit and of power, that your faith might rest, not on the wisdom of men, but on the power of God.” (1 Cor. 2, 1)

Humility, therefore, creates an atmosphere in which the apostolic spirit can take root and flourish in great profusion. It is humility that makes it easy for us to subject ourselves always to the desires of Jesus and to follow His will rather than our own. Being steeped in humility, we will be very distrustful of our own ideas about what ought to be done to spread the faith. We will be very anxious to know what Jesus Himself desires in every matter. Like St. Paul, we will humbly turn to Christ and ask with the simplicity of a child, “Lord, what wilt thou have me do?” (Acts, 9, 6)

This profound humility is what distinguishes the heroes of Christ so radically from the heroes of the world. The spirit of the world and the spirit of Christ are opposed on every point. The deep humility of Jesus is a complete mystery to the pagans of this world who thrive on arrogance, pride, and selflove. “We have received, not the spirit of this world,” says St. Paul, “but the spirit that is from God.” (1 Cor. 2, 12) The spirit of Jesus is a charming humility.

Some people, engaged in apostolic work, become very jealous if they see that others have met with more success than they. This foolish jealousy is, of course, directly opposed to the spirit of humility and the spirit of Jesus. We must remember that our success in any apostolic enterprise depends much more upon the grace of God which come to us through Christ, than upon our contribution to the cause. Our contribution is quite necessary, but we must give all the glory, not to ourselves, but to Christ. If others have succeeded in spreading Christ, then we should rejoice. St. Paul was never jealous when he heard that Christ was being preached with success. As he himself says, “Provided only that in every way, whether in pretence or in truth, Christ is proclaimed; in that I rejoice, yes, and I shallrejoice.” (Phil. 1, 18)

A humble person, therefore, can never become jealous, for he seeks not his own glory and honour, but only the honour and glory of Christ in all things. The entire life of a truly humble man becomes quite transformed into the life of Jesus and many other virtues of Christ are soon made manifest in the humble soul. This gradual transformation into the likeness of Christ can progress to such an extent that the soul could truthfully exclaim with St. Paul, “I live now, not I but Christ lives on in me.” (Ga. 2, 20) Because of his great humility and love of Christ, the selfish side of St. Paul’s nature gradually decreased while his likeness to Jesus increased tremendously. It was this likeness to Christ that made St. Paul such a mighty Apostle of Christ.

SUFFERING FOR CHRIST

Every man who lives for the sake of Christ will undoubtedly be called upon to suffer for the sake of Christ. Just as Christ lives on in us, so also He suffers on in us. It is true to say that Jesus is in agony till the end of the world, for He suffers on in the members of His Body. We are the members of a thorncrowned. Head, and as St. Paul says, “The sufferings of Christ abound in us.” (2 Cor. 1, 5)

Every Apostle must expect to carry his own cross of sufferings, for how else can he resemble Jesus Christ? St. Paul, the great Apostle to the Gentiles, was called upon to endure long and terrible sufferings in order to prove his love of Christ.

“Thrice I was scourged,” he says. “Once I was stoned, thrice I suffered ship wre ck, a night and a day I was adrift on the sea; in journeyings often, in perils from floods, in perils from robbers, in perils from my own nation, in perils from the Gentiles, in perils in the city, in perils in the wilderness, in perils in the sea, in perils from false brethren; in labour and hardships, in many sleepless nights, in hunger and thirst, in fastings often, in cold and nakedness. Besides all those outer things, there is my daily pressing anxiety, the care of all the churches! Who is weak and I am not weak? Who is made to stumble and I am not inflamed? If I must boast, I will boast of the things that concern my weakness.” (Cor. 2, 11, 25)

Such great sufferings and labours fall to the lot of every great Apostle of Jesus.

ENTHUSIASM FOR THE FAITH

Enthusiasm for the Faith always overcomes the world. We Catholics, animated by an intense love of Christ and fully appreciating the high value of our Faith, should be anxious to work without ceasing for the spread of the Gospel. We should never be, in any way, ashamed of the Faith, but rather take a justifiable pride in the fact that we are Catholics and therefore united as one with Christ. Our treasure, indeed, is Christ and of Him we are not ashamed. As St. Paul boldly proclaims, “1 am not ashamed of the Gospel.” (Rom. 1, 16)

Many modern Catholics are forever trying to conceal the fact that they are Catholics. They act as though they were, to some extent, ashamed of the Gospel. This should not be so. In our chaotic modern world, with all its madness, the Gospel of Christ is one of the very few things that stand glorious. The Gospel is our glory and our joy.

To many people, religion is a mere hobby. Their interest may become extremely intense, but it is still just a hobby, like fishing, reading detective stories, or collecting stamps. A mere diversion! These enthusiasts usually confine their interest to non-essential aspects of religion. They obviously have no real grasp on the fullness of the Faith. They gossip for hours on end about their own supposedly miraculous experiences and weary their friends with tales of their own pious practices. Some of these religious cranks even go so far as to claim having seen visions of Christ and the saints. They go about publicising the story of their own great supernatural experiences. Their gossip is mostly sheer nonsense. “Avoid foolish fables and old wives tales,’ says St. Paul, “and train yourselves in Godliness.” (1 Tim. 4, 7) Let us strive to become sincere Apostles of Christ, not religious cranks.

When people come to us and inquire about the Faith, we should, in all kindness and love, open up our hearts to them in perfect frankness. Tell all men the truth. Do not colour the facts in vain attempt to make them more acceptable. “We are frank with you, 0 Corinthians,” says St. Paul, “and our heart is wide open to you.” (2 Cor. 6, 11)

In writing to Titus, St. Paul gives him much sound advice about his instruction of the people in the Faith. “Speak what befits the sound doctrine,” he says, “that elderly men may be reserved, honourable, prudent, sound in faith, in love, in patience, that elderly women, in like manner, be marked by holiness of behaviour, not slanderers, nor enslaved to much wine, teaching what is right, that they may train the younger women to be wise, to love their husbands and their children, to be discreet, chaste, domestic, gentle, obedient to their husbands, so that the word of God be not revealed. Exhort the younger men in like manner, to be self-controlled. Show thy self in all things an example of good works, in teaching, in integrity and dignity, let thy speech be sound and blameless, so that anyone opposing may be put to shame, having nothing bad to say of us. (Titus 2, 1)

Very often a Catholic will find himself in a situation where he has spiritual obligation to point out to another the evil of his ways. Most of us, naturally, tend to shirk our duty in such cases, for we are afraid of offending our friend or even losing his friendship. In such cases we must fortify ourselves in the love of Christ, and realise that, if we neglect our duty, grave spiritual harm might come to our friends. The performance of our unpleasant duty would, indeed, be an heroic act of charity, even though, at the time, our friends might resent our interference. St. Paul was very often called upon to perform such a duty and he always sacrificed his own feelings for the sake of Christ and for the spiritual safety of the faithful. As he himself says, “I will most gladly spend and be spent myself for your souls, even though loving you more I am loved the less.” (2 Cor. 12, 15) Perhaps at the time our friends might love us less when we save them from some spiritual disaster, but eventually they will appreciate our charity.

CONCLUSION

It has been the purpose of this short pamphlet to point out that St. Paul has given us a complete programme of apostolic activity. He has composed for us an entire plan of action, indicating, in every instance, what attitude we should take and what course of action we should adopt. The great Apostle to the Gentiles tells us and, indeed, shows us how to make converts for Christ. He went from triumph to triumph and so shall we if we follow him in his faith, in his zeal, and in his sufferings.

This pamphlet is, of course, merely a brief outline of St. P aul’s methods, touching only on those points which we have considered more important. It is true to say that the Apostle has given us an apostolic policy of action which is complete to the smallest detail. In our work for the cause of Jesus Christ, we will never meet with a problem associated with our apostolate which does not have its clear solution in St. Paul and in the glorious doctrine of the Mystical Body of Christ.

Ex Parte Ordinis.

Nihil Obstat.

JOHANNES L. HANRAHAN, O.S.A., M.A

Nihil Obstat:

W. M. Collins, Censor Dioc. lmprimatur

@ D. MANNIX, Archiepiscopus Melbournensis. 31st May, 1954.

********

Saint Peregrine, The Cancer Saint

INDEX

SUFFERING IS A GIFT WE CAN GIVE TO GOD. IT IS A GIFT THAT ONLY THE PERSON WHO IS SUFFERING CAN GIVE. WHEN WE UNDERSTAND ITS VALUE AND OFFER IT FOR LOVE OF GOD AND THE GOOD OF OTHERS, THEN WE ALSO FIND THAT SUFFERING BRINGS JOY

Certainly good works are of great value, but pains and trials borne with love and patience are worth even more. Love can transform even the smallest pain and make it a worthy act of adoration.

No one loves suffering for itself. But to suffer out of love, and in an attitude of acceptance and trust, is to follow Jesus.

St. Peregrine, the Cancer Saint, is an example of just such trust.

As a youth in Forli he took an active part in the anti-papalist politics of his town. Father Philip Benizi was sent to Forli by the Pope to act as a mediator, but he was insulted and mistreated by the townspeople. A group of young troublemakers, led by Peregrine, attacked Fr. Philip and drove him from the town. Peregrine himself struck the saintly priest on his face. Fr. Benizi’s only reply was to offer the other cheek.

Peregrine could not forget the look in the holy priest’s eyes-a look of compassion, love and pardon. Peregrine’s whole life changed and took on a new meaning. He begged Fr. Philip’s forgiveness, left aside his former way of life, and dedicated himself to prayer and solitude.

During this time he developed a trusting and childlike confidence in the Blessed Mother. On one occasion Mary spoke to him and urged him to join “her servants”-the Servites. Fr. Philip Benizi received Peregrine into the order.

After Peregrine had been ordained a priest, he asked to return to Forli to work among his own people. His favourite places were the hospitals, the prisons and the homes of the poor. He spent his days and nights visiting the sick and the dying, and comforting them by his presence, his words and his actions.

A life of poverty and penance eventually left its mark on the aging Fr. Peregrine. A painful and repulsive cancerous sore developed on his leg. Yet, he bore this suffering without complaint. To save his life, however, the doctors decided to amputate. Surgery was a great risk in those days. Peregrine was afraid and spent the night before the operation in prayer. Suddenly the figure on the crucifix above him began to move! Jesus came down and touched the painful sore, then disappeared. Father Peregrine thought it had been a dream-but he was cured! The doctors themselves testified that they could no longer detect any trace of the cancerous sore.

For this reason St. Peregrine has been designated the patron of all who suffer from any type of cancer.

The suffering that St. Peregrine bore in his lifetime became his crown of glory. His reward was the heaven that each of us longs to someday enjoy.

What we suffer in this life can never be compared to the glory, as yet unrevealed, which is waiting for us (cf. Rom 8:18).

NOVENA TO ST. PEREGRINE

O glorious wonder-worker, St. Peregrine, you answered the divine call with a ready spirit, forsaking all the comforts of a life of ease and all the empty honours of the world, to dedicate yourself to God in the Order of his most Holy Mother. You laboured courageously for the salvation of souls, meriting the title of “Apostle of Emilia.” In union with Jesus Cruci- fied, you patiently endured the most painful sufferings and so deserved to be healed miraculously from an incurable wound in your leg with a touch of his divine hand. Obtain for us, we pray, the grace to answer every call from God. Enkindle in our hearts a consuming zeal for the salvation of souls. Deliver us from the infirmities that so often afflict our weakened bodies. And obtain for us the grace of perfect resignation to the sufferings which our merciful God allows us to endure. So may we, imitating your virtues and tenderly loving our crucified Lord and his sorrowful Mother, merit glory everlasting in paradise. Amen.

Our Father Hail Mary, Glory

Prayer to St. Peregrine

O God, Who gave St. Peregrine an angel for his companion, the Mother of God for his Teacher, and Jesus for the Physician of his infirmity. Grant, we beg Thee through his merits, that on earth we may intensely love our holy angel, the Blessed Virgin, and our Saviour, and in heaven bless them forever. Grant that we may receive the favour we now ask. . . . Through Christ our Lord. Amen.

Say one Our Father, Hail Mary and Glory with the invocation:”St. Peregrine, pray for us”

Litany in Honour of St. Peregrine

Lord, have mercy on us.

Christ, have mercy on us.

Lord, have mercy on us. .

Christ, hear us.

Christ, graciously hear us.

God, the Father of heaven, have mercy on us.

God the Son, Redeemer of the world, have mercy on us.

God, the Holy Spirit, have mercy on us.

Holy Trinity, one God, have mercy on us.

Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us.

Mother of Sorrows, etc.

Health of the sick,

Comforter of the afflicted,

Help of Christians,

St. Peregrine,

Converted by the prayers of St. Philip,

Afflicted with a cancerous growth,

Completely cured by the outstretched hand of Jesus Crucified, Who performed many miracles in your lifetime,

Who multiplied food and drink

Who cured the sick by the power of the Name of Jesus,

Who converted hardened sinners by prayer and fasting,

Who receive every favour you ask of God

Most confident in prayer,

Most austere in penance,

Most patient in suffering,

Most humble in the holy priesthood,

Most zealous for souls

Most kind toward the afflicted,

Most devoted to the passion of Jesus and the sorrows of Mary, Victim with Jesus and Mary for the salvation of souls,

Wonder-worker for the sick and diseased,

Hope of incurable cases,

Universal patron of all who suffer from cancer,

Beloved Patron of Spain,

Glory of the Order of the Servants of Mary,

Lamb of God, who takes away the sins of the world, spare us, O Lord. Lamb of God, who takes away the sins of the world, graciously hear us, O Lord.

Lamb of God, who takes away the sins of the world, have mercy on us.

V. Pray for us, O glorious St. Peregrine,

R. That we may be made worthy of the promises of Christ.

Let us pray

O God, be gracious and hear the prayers which we present to Thee in honour of St. Peregrine, Thy beloved servant. May we who do not rely on our own merits receive help in our needs through the intercession of him whose life was so pleasing to Thee, Through Christ, our Lord. Amen.

PREPARATION FOR A SICK CALL

1.-A small table covered with a clean white cloth.

2.-On the table

(a) a Crucifix;

(b,) two candles;

(c) holy water, with a sprinkler;

(d) a small vessel with clean drinking water; (e) a white linen cloth for the use of the sick person when receiving Holy Communion.

Prayers For the Sick

Almighty and everlasting God, the eternal salvation of those who believe in Thee, hear us on behalf of Thy servants who are sick, for whom we humbly beg the help of Thy mercy, so that, being restored to health, they may render thanks to Thee in Church. Through Christ our Lord. Amen.

Act of Resignation to the Will of God

My Father, I do not know what will happen to me today. I only know that nothing will happen to me that was not foreseen by Thee and directed to my greater good from all eternity This is enough for me.

I adore Thy holy eternal and unfathomable plans. I submit to them with all my heart for love of Thee. I offer a sacrifice of everything to Thee and unite my sacrifice to that of my divine Saviour.

In his name and through his infinite merits, I ask Thee for patience in my sufferings and perfect submission to Thee so that everything Thou will or permit to happen will be for Thy glory Amen.

Prayer for a Happy Death

Lord, my Creator and Redeemer, with all my heart I accept my death according to Thy will and in a spirit of adoration. I want to die as a devout child of the Church and to go into eternity with the best dispositions of faith, of hope, of charity and of sorrow for my sins.

I hope to renew, at least mentally, my baptismal promises.

O Lord, I offer Thee all the circumstances, even the most painful, which will accompany my passage to eternity in reparation for my sins and to merit heaven better.

I call upon the great patrons of a good death: Jesus Crucified, with whom I want to pronounce the words: “Father, into

Thy hands I commend my spirit:” our Mother Mary, so that she may “pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death”; and St. Joseph, that he may help me lead a holy life and merit a death similar to his.

O suffering Jesus, O sorrowful Mary, O St. Joseph, I ask Thee for these graces:

-A good life in faithful observance of the commandments and of all the duties of my state in life, which will assure me of a holy death.

-The gift to receive, in the event of a serious sickness, the sacraments of the Anointing of the Sick and Viaticum. -Correspondence to the gifts I have received, so that my life may be spent for the glory of God, and I may gain eternal happiness.

-Daily prayer which is necessary for salvation; in particular the frequent reception of the sacraments of confession and the Holy Eucharist.

Jesus Master, I believe in Thee.

Jesus Master, I hope in Thee.

Jesus Master, I love Thee.

Jesus Master, I invoke Thy mercy.

Jesus, Mary and Joseph, I give Thee my heart and my soul.

Jesus, Mary and Joseph, assist me in my last agony.

Jesus, Mary and Joseph, may I breathe forth my soul in peace with Thee

********

Saint Peter Aloysius Mary Chanel

REV. E. COURTAIS, S.M

INDEX

IN the Pacific, a little north of a line drawn between Fiji and Samoa, lie two small islands, separated by a narrow channel which in ordinary weather is easily crossed by native canoes. The larger is Futuna, and is inhabited; the smaller is Alofi, and is used by the natives for their plantations.

On the charts the little group is marked Horn Islands, but it is better known by the native name of Futuna (pronounced Foo-too-na).

Futuna is a very small island, about nine miles long and six miles wide; looked at on a map of the Pacific it appears as a mere speck on this vast expanse, yet the sea traveller approaching it is confronted by a land of majestic appearance with high, steep and rugged mountains and luxuriant tropical vegetation.

A little over a hundred years ago, its inhabitants were as wild as the country itself; they had become cannibals after a hurricane which swept over the island and brought about a terrible famine. The desire for human flesh had become so great that, when the wars between rival tribes did not provide sufficient, the wretched people killed their own kith and kin in order to supply the material for their horrible feasts. One of their first missionaries wrote: “Many a time did I shake hands with a man who had cooked his old parents and had feasted on them with his friends. One day I was shown an old man who, alone of a village of 300 souls, had escaped massacre and . . . the oven.”

A small island, which one would hardly notice on the surface of our planet! And yet, God, in His infinite mercy and wisdom, decreed that this island should be the scene of the first martyrdom in Oceania, and that these savage people would all become Catholics within a few years of the first missionary’s arrival

Let us see how this miracle of God’s grace happened, and how the blood of the Proto-martyr of Oceania became the seed of Christians.

EARLY LIFE OF SAINT PETER CHANEL

1803–1827

The hero of our history was born on 12th July, 1803, at the village of Cuet, in the diocese of Belley, France, and was baptized four days later in the neighbouring church of Montrevel. The infant received the name of Peter, the names of Aloysius Mary being added at the time of his Confirmation.

Peter, the fifth child of a family of eight, received his first education from a pious mother, who looked after the souls of her children as well as after their bodily wants. This good mother it was who taught him first to lisp the holy names of Jesus and Mary, then to say the Our Father and the Hail Mary, and, later, to conduct the night prayers which were said in the presence of the whole family and presided over by each of the children in turn, so as to make sure that each one knew them by heart. The good mother, too, it was who instilled in her children’s young minds the first ideas of Our Lord and His Blessed Mother, of heaven and hell, of the beauty of virtue and the hideousness of sin; and young Peter, under this sweet motherly influence, was not slow in opening his heart to the love of heavenly things.

Like all children, Peter was fond of games, but, even in his play, he showed the spirit that was to actuate his after-life: imitating what he had seen in the Church, ringing a bell, going through the ceremonies of Mass, holding processions, repeating to an audience of children like himself the sermon just heard in the church.

Life, though, could not be all play with the child. He belonged to a family of working farmers, and, according to the customs of the time, he very early shared the labours of his parents, brothers and sisters. At the age of seven, he had to look after the cattle in the fields; due regard, of course, was given to his tender years, and we are told that his task was to mind the quiet plough oxen and docile milch (milk) cattle. Speaking of this happy time, Father Chanel once said to a friend: “Before I started for the fields, my mother never missed asking me whether I had said my prayers. I then kissed her, as if to beg her blessing. She put on my arm a little basket with some provisions for the day With that I merrily took my leave, followed by a faithful dog who kept good watch on the flock. The animal was not a beauty, but he had a wonderful instinct, and I could trust him to keep everything in order; afterwards, as a reward, I gave him a share in my meal.” A beautiful picture, is it not, of humble work, sanctified by prayer?

Meantime, the child’s instruction was not overlooked. There was no school in Cuet, and the nearest one was nearly three miles from the hamlet where the Chanel family lived. When seven years of age, Peter went to that school during the winter months, weather permitting, but made little progress. The following years passed without any schooling at all, and it is only during the next two winters that the boy learned to read and write.

When he reached the age of eleven, Divine Providence intervened on his behalf in the person of the saintly parish priest of Cras, Father Trompier. The good priest, looking right and left for future priests, had often noticed the open and candid countenance of Peter Chanel, One day, passing along the field where the young shepherd, was tending his flock, he stopped and said: “Halloa, Peter! Shall I take you with me to Cras? You are now a big boy; don’t you want to be a priest?”

“Yes, Father,” answered the boy, “it is my great wish.”

Wasting no time, the pastor goes straight to the Chanel’s farm; the mother is alone; she receives the priest’s pro—position with joy and pride, and her consent is readily ratified by the father; so that, when Peter, all excited, comes back from the field, somewhat earlier than usual, he has no time to ask questions: “All is well, Peter,” says the mother, “your father and I have settled it.”

The boy then went to Cras to attend the primary school, and soon he began a course in Latin with the good parish priest. On 23rd March, 1817, he made his First Communion, at the age of fourteen. We, who are now privileged to follow the instructions of the saintly Pontiff, St. Pius X, in regard to frequent and early Communion, may be surprised at this long delay; we should remember, though, that it was according to the custom of the time, and that young Peter had had very little schooling as yet. Anyway, if he had to wait a long time, he was certainly all the better prepared for this first Feast with Our Blessed Lord; and we know that, if he gave himself, heart and soul, to Jesus in this first meeting, Jesus, in return, was pleased to give him the call to an apostolic vocation.

In 1819, Peter went to college, four years at Amberieu for literary studies, and one year at Belley for a course in philosophy. During all those years, he showed himself one of those unobtrusively good boys, whom everybody likes.

The professors trusted him, and of this we have a proof in the following little fact, amongst others. Two of his classmates were a great worry to their masters, one by his inveterate laziness, the other by his incorrigible restlessness. In the hope that his influence might stimulate the former and subdue the latter, Peter was put between the two in the study room; and we know that the master’s hope was realized, at least partly; the noisy and mischief-making one turned his overflowing activity to better account and became a serious student.

Peter was a favourite, too, with his companions, not without some merit on his part. According to a method then followed in the French colleges, he had been appointed one of the prefects, entrusted with the keeping of discipline; the exercise of this charge, in order not to be resented by the other boys, required much tact and prudence. Peter Chanel, as a prefect, never lost the esteem and affection of his companions. Only two of them, worthless individuals who were later on turned out of school, submitted him for a time to a malicious petty persecution, and even then, one of the two came back to better sentiments and wrote to his former prefect a letter full of the humblest apologies. Nothing, better than this, can show the gentle and beneficent influence of our hero over his fellow-students.

What was the source of this influence? A true spirit of piety and supernatural charity. Peter Chanel did good to his fellows, because he loved them; and he loved them because he loved God, to Whose service he wished to consecrate his whole life., His great devotions were to the Blessed Eucharist and to Our Blessed Lady; he belonged to the Sodality of Children of Mary, and became president of that sodality. One day, he dipped his pen into the blood that was oozing out of a wound in his hand, and, as others have done before and after him, he wrote with his blood what was upper-most in his mind and heart: “To love Mary and make her loved.” This was then his ambition, and it remained all through his life.

In October, 1824, he entered the seminary of his diocese, at Brou, near Bourg. “I was much impressed,” said he, “when I put on the soutane in order to go to Brou, but my feelings run still much higher when I crossed the threshold of the seminary; it seemed to me that God had created for me a new heaven and a new world.” Life, though, was hard at the seminary; during the winter, the cold was keenly felt in the big fireless halls, recreation was not vigorous in the small yard where the students walked round and round for an hour or so; one outing a week was not over much for young men shut in by four walls the rest of the time; the food, while wholesome, was rather on the coarse side. . But it was the life, and Peter took it as it was, without grumbling: “Let nature cry out as it will,” was his comment; “where there is love, there is no pain.And God helps us with an abundance of graces. May I ever be faithful to them!”

Thus passed four happy years, during which he ascended the steps leading to the altar. He received the sub-diaconate in March, 1826, and the diaconate in May of the same year. On 15th July, 1827, he was ordained to the priesthood. On the 18th, he celebrated his first Mass at Cras, assisted by the old parish priest, Father Trompier. We can easily imagine the joy of the latter. For many years he had worked hard to educate boys for the priesthood, and here he was, assisting one whom he had taken, long ago, from the fields and adopted as his own child, assisting the little shepherd who had become, thanks to his influence, a shepherd of souls. He was glad indeed, and, at the dinner which he gave the newly-ordained priest and his family, he had no wish to contradict the new priest’s happy and proud father, Francis Chanel, who said: “During the Mass, I was watching you all, your Reverence, the deacon and the sub-deacon. Well, let anyone say what he will; my own boy was the best looking of the lot.”

THE PRIESTLY WORK IN FRANCE, 1827–1836

The work of those nine years is summed up by one of the Saint’s panegyrists in the following words: “Peter Chanel seems to have been chosen by God to offer a model of holiness by the practice of common duties; and this is no doubt the reason why Divine Providence, before calling him to the supreme sacrifice, so ordained that he might pass through all the ministries where priestly zeal spends itself in the eyes of the faithful. During the nine years which elapsed between his ordination to the priesthood and his departure for the foreign field, he was successively curate and parish priest, spiritual director and superior of an ecclesiastical college. His priestly life, so full and yet so plain, begun among the diocesan clergy and continued under religious obedience in the Society of Mary, gives us an example of all manner of sacerdotal devotion to duty, of all trials that stand to test sacerdotal virtue, of all means that concur to sanctify sacerdotal work. There is not one priest who can resist the authority of a teaching so well fitted to his needs and so well adapted to his condition.” These are the words of a great French prelate, Monsignor d”Hulst, and they show well how Father Chanel, by his very humility and simplicity, became a model whom all can emulate.

He was first sent to Amberieu, as curate of Father Collieux, a Confessor of the Faith during the great French Revolution. It was his good fortune to fight his first battles for Christ under the leadership of such a pastor; but on the other hand, like Canon Sheehan’s “New Curate,” he was young, and his ideas sometimes clashed with those of his old parish priest. The renovation of the church, the training of altar boys, the holding of processions, were easily enough approved by the old man; but when the month of May came and the young curate spoke of having a Month of Mary, there was some difficulty. Father Collieux had to be coaxed into it; then he wondered at Our Lady’s altar being so well decorated and aglow with lights, and he asked what could be done after that for any great festival like Easter or Christmas. In the end, he was very pleased with the consoling results of the month’s devotions. When, after thirteen months, his curate was taken from him and appointed parish priest of Crozet, he greatly regretted the transfer, so much had he come to appreciate him.

A protest against the appointment came from another quarter, and for quite different reasons. Crozet was a small parish at the foot of the Jura mountains, in the Gex country, opposite Geneva. The country had been Calvinist for a time, and then was won back to the Faith by St. Francis of Sales; but Catholicity there was at a very low ebb again at the time of Father Chanel’s appointment, and the transfer to such a parish did not look like a reward. Anyway, the parish priest’s father did not regard it as such; he entertained some contempt for the barren country of Gex, and expressed it in high quarters: “You put my son,” he complained, “in the mountains, among the bears; I did not give him to you for that.”

Father Chanel smiled at the paternal wrath and went his way, quite satisfied with his lot; he, who dreamed of savage pagans, could not be afraid of the “bears” of Crozet, and he merely remarked to one of his friends: “If I were nearer to my parents, I might be farther off from God.”

We have it from one of his parishioners that, in a short while, the parish was completely changed. The Crozet people had grown careless about Mass attendance; their pastor drew them by kindness and patience; he went to see them in their homes and in the fields, talked to them, helped the poor and the sick; and they returned his politeness and kindness by coming to see and hear him in the church. Distrust of the priest thus disappeared and gave place to mutual understanding. The pastor diligently instructed his flock, plainly showing them their duties, without ever rebuking them for their past negligences. The grace of the Sacraments, frequently and regularly received, did the rest.

The children also were his special care. Father Chanel explained to them the elements of Catholic doctrine in catechism lessons, which he knew how to make attractive as well as instructive and edifying. He found Crozet without a Catholic school, but he soon provided one for the boys and another for the girls. His best recreation was to be among the children, taking part in their games and seizing every opportunity to lift up their young hearts towards heavenly things.

Thus the good shepherd tended his flock during three years; all this time, though, after the example of his Divine Master, he was feeling a great compassion for the multitude of pagans “living like sheep that have no shepherd.”

The foreign missions were in his thoughts from the day of his First Communion. At college he had made friends with two boys, Bret and Maitrepierre, who had the same aspirations as himself and who, later on, also entered the Society of Mary. While curate at Amberieu, he said to a friend, who had shown him letters from a missionary in India: “Please ask Father Bonnard, when you next write to him, whether he has not found my name written over there on the sand or on the bark of a tree, and tell him that I shall start my journey as soon as God will have given me a sign of His Holy Will.” The same thought pursues him whilst at Crozet. There had been talk of moving himto another parish: “No,” he said, “I shall only leave my dear parishioners to go and work among the infidels.”

The desire to work in the foreign field was there, but the way was not clear as yet; his Bishop told him to wait, and he himself was not settled about the missionary society that he would enter.

At last, in 1831, he, the fervent client of the Blessed Virgin, was attracted by the name of a religious society which was just then being founded in his own diocese, the Society of Mary. He went to see the founder, the Ven. J. C. Colin, reflected, prayed, and, with his Bishop’s consent, left Crozet at the end of October, to become one of the pioneers among the Marist Fathers.

At that time, the Society of Mary had charge of the college of Belley; for two years, Father Chanel was spiritual director of that college, and for another two years Superior. It does not enter into the plan of this short account to give many details of those four years of his life; suffice it to mention a few which will bring into relief some of his characteristics.

His zeal as a spiritual director is well shown in the following incident: One boy, who later on became a priest and a religious, narrates how Father Chanel once called him and inquired about a suspicious book which he had got, unknown to his masters. ““Give it to me,” said the good Father, “I shall look it over and give it back if there is nothing in it against Faith and morals.; As I was holding back and proving very obstinate, he fell on his knees before me and begged of me, for the sake of my dearest interests, to desist and make the sacrifice of that book. I was so impressed that at last I yielded.”

How well Father Chanel fulfilled his duties as a Superior, we can gather from the following words of his panegyrist, Monsignor d”Hulst, already quoted: “Let the persons who are attached to the work of Christian education come and seek in the examples of Blessed Chanel a lesson suitable to the hidden sublimity of this ministry; they will learn how much of self-abnegation and meekness, vigilance and steadfastness, of the spirit of prayer and interior virtues, is required in order to beget Jesus Christ in souls, in order to give true Christians to society and worthy priests to the Church.” Yes, Father Chanel was a model of all those virtues, but especially of meekness. We know that no person, not even the greatest Saint or the most capable of men, can please everybody. Father Chanel did not please everybody; some said that he was too weak, and that this was not in the best interests of the college. He heard the reproach, and accepted it; he went even so far as to submit afterwards to his critic the firmness of his attitude on several occasions, but for all continued to rule in his own gentle way. He was convinced, with St. Francis of Sales, that “an ounce of honey will catch more flies than a whole barrelful of vinegar.” And, after all, events vindicated his method. During his term of office, the best spirit prevailed among the boys, good harmony and great zeal were shown in the professorial staff, and even the domestic staff constantly praised the gentle Superior.

In 1836, a great event took place, which was the turning point in the life of Father Chanel. “Oh! the glad tidings I have to give you,” he wrote to a friend. “Our Holy Father, Gregory XVI, approved our Society on 29th April, and entrusted it with the Missions of Oceania. I manifested my old longings, and now my heart throbs with joy as my name is put on the roll for the first draft of missionaries. We shall, no doubt, encounter many dangers during the journey, but I am not the least afraid; I already offered to God the sacrifice of my life. One thing alone frightens me; my unworthiness for this apostolic vocation. I sorely need God’s help and Mary’s assistance; this is why I am begging for prayers on every side; I rely on yours.”

We can understand this outpouring of the heart on the part of one who had so long dreamed of the foreign missions, for we know that at times God rewards sacrifice by such a joy; but we also know that the same merciful God, at other times, allows the victims to feel all the bitterness of the sacrifice; and so it happened with Father Chanel. As long as he was kept busy with the usual routine of college life, he had not much time left for thoughts other than those of his actual work; but when the boys had gone on their vacation, and he began to prepare for his departure, then the thought of his unworthiness, of his weakness for the tremendous task ahead, came uppermost in his mind; he felt depressed, miserable, and, after the example of his Divine Master, he found himself saying: “Let this chalice pass from me.” One day in August he had gone to the Marist Convent of Belley to visit his sister, and, as he was expressing his troubled state of mind to the Mother Superior, this holy nun said to him: “What! would you now let go the palm of the apostolate, perhaps that of martyrdom ? Would you refuse to answer the call of Almighty God? Yes, everywhere one must work out his salvation in fear and trembling, but, if somewhere difficulties are greater, will not also sufficient graces be granted to overcome them? Pluck up your courage and trust in God. Do not waver any more; set out for Oceania; you have our prayers; do not forget us in yours.” These valiant words were enough; the interior storm was calmed, and a few days later Father Chanel could write to a friend: “I long to be off. Even if I had a thousand lives to lose, could you find fault in my consecrating them all to the salvation of the poor islanders of Oceania?”

On 24th September, 1836, the first twenty Marists met at Belley, elected the Ven. Father Colin (their founder) as Superior-General, and pronounced their vows of religion. Father Chanel, appointed Pro-Vicar by Bishop Pompallier and Religious Superior by Father Colin, then took leave of his family and friends and went on to Lyons and thence to Havre, where the missionary band was to embark.

THE JOURNEY TO FUTUNA: 1836–1837

In 1836 there were no steamers speeding across the seas towards Oceania. Our missionaries took passage on a sailing ship, the Delphine, together with some Picpus Fathers going to the Cambier Islands. There were four priests, Reverend Fathers Chanel, Bataillon, Servant and Bret, and three Brothers, Joseph Xavier, Mary Nizier and Michael, under the leadership of Bishop Pompallier; they sailed on 24th December. When they left the wharf at Havre, the rudder was fouled, but nobody noticed it until a fierce storm broke upon them and threatened to end the journey. They had to put into Santa Cruz harbour, Teneriffe Island, for repairs. As the port was poorly equipped for such repairs, the work lasted seven weeks, a long and weary wait, during which time the missionaries had to be satisfied with the accommodation of an inn ashore, and to suffer from an epidemic which swept over the little town.

When the day of departure arrived they were too ill to travel. Father Bret’s temperature was dangerously high. On the 19th March he received the Last Sacraments and that same day passed peacefully away. Nobody felt the death more keenly than Father Chanel, to whom the deceased was a very dear friend for many years. Writing to his mother, he said: “Father Bret, whom you often saw at home, died of a fever caught at Teneriffe., Almighty God, in spite of our prayers and tears, took him from us and was pleased to crown him before the combat. His death is a great loss to our mission, and a deep wound to my heart. His fate, though, is to be envied rather than mourned, his edifying death was as an eloquent sermon to the officers and crew of our ship, who, to our great joy and consolation, have now all gone to Confession and Holy Communion.”

Here we see Father Chanel speaking of the sailors” conversion and ascribing it to the influence of Father Bret’s saintl y death. The missionaries, following the instructions given by Father Colin, had been true apostles on board the Delphine, doing their best to instruct sailors and passengers. Most of the men attended the catechism classes, but could not be induced to frequent the Sacraments until Father Bret’s death. Deeply struck by the simplicity of these priests who were willing to live or die for God, passengers and sailors daily attended the religious instructions, and, with only one exception, made their Confessions and received Holy Communion at Valparaiso. The Bishop afterwards confirmed those who had not yet received this Sacrament.

The Delphine reached Valparaiso on 28th June, 1837, and on 10th August the missionaries embarked on the American brig, Europa, bound for Tahiti.

The crew of the Europa were Protestants, and the “papist” missionaries were far from welcome on board, one officer in particular showing a very bitter spirit against them. “Never mind,” Father Chanel said to his companions, “let us pray for themand be always kind and courteous.” This advice was followed and brought about a complete change in the men’s dispositions. The abovementioned officer became their best friend, and even promised to become a Catholic as soon as he reached Tahiti; he himselfjokingly explained that his hatred for “papists” had come to him from his mother, who depicted Catholic priests as monsters whom nobody should approach for fear of contamination, “and I had taken the lesson so much to heart,” he said, “that I had sworn never to be in the company of one; but your kind behaviour scattered all my prejudices to the winds.”

On 13th September the Europa was at the Gambier Islands, where the Picpus Fathers were landed, and on the 22nd she arrived at Tahiti, her destination, where the famous Protestant minister, Mr. Pitchard, was then the governing spirit behind the throne of Queen Pomare.

Tahiti, as well as the Gambier Islands, had been allotted some years previously by Propaganda to the Picpus Fathers and formed the Vicariate Apostolic of Occidental Oceania. All the islands to the west were entrusted to Bishop Pompallier and his little band of Marist missionaries. At Tahiti, therefore, they looked for another boat that would carry them to their own mission field. The Bishop was able to charter a small schooner, the Raiatea, and on 4th October they set sail for Vavau, in the Tonga group, the first port on their journey towards Central Oceania.,

Their hearts were beating fast with joy and expectation as they approached the beautiful Vavau harbour. The entrance is difficult for sailing boats and the Raiatea was nearly wrecked against the cliffs. The missionaries were landed safely, and when they saw the native king of the island His Majesty politely told them that he himself offered no objection to the Catholic missionaries settling in his kingdom, but could decide nothing in the absence of the Protestant missionary, Mr. Thomas. The latter, another governing spirit behind the throne, granted an audience a few days later and said to the Bishop: “This island is too small for two religions. There are other islands nearby; Wallis, for instance, where our religion has not yet been preached; you have full liberty to go there.”

In order to understand fully the irony of this suggestion one must know that, shortly before, the Wallis people had massacred the crews of two boats as well as some fifty native teachers sent there by the Methodists.

The advice of Mr. Thomas, although not kindly meant, helped to lay the foundation on one of the finest Catholic establishments in this part of the world. Leaving Vavau on 30th October, the missionaries arrived at Wallis on 1st November; the natives received Father Bataillon and Brother Joseph Xavier, and, four years later, thanks to the untiring zeal of their priest, they were all Catholics, as they are still to this day. When, in 1843, a Methodist minister came to bring the benefit of his teaching to these ex-savages, he was firmly but politely told to expend his labours in some other field than Wallis.

We have seen how the first missionaries arrived at Wallis on 1st November, where the Bishop left Father Bataillon and Brother Joseph Xavier. On the 7th, the Raiatea put to sea again and set her course for the Island of Futuna. Divine Providence was truly leading the priests there for Its own purpose. It was the Bishop’s intention to go from Wallis to Rotuma, in which place he would leave Father Chanel; his object in calling at Futuna was to land a Mr. Tom Boog, an English trader, together with twelve Futunanatives from Wallis. But the passengers” landing took more time than was expected, and then the crew of an English whaleboat recently wrecked on one of the Fiji reefs came on board, and the marooned captain asked a passage for himself and his men on the Raiatea. Whilst the parleys were going on a crowd of natives swarmed all over the little vessel. They attracted the attention of Monsignor Pompallier, who pondering deeply for a while, drew aside Father Chanel and said to him: “Well, Father, what about staying at Futuna?” The answer came immediately: “My Lord, I am quite willing and ready.” So it was decided that Father Chanel, with Brother Mary Nizier as companion, should try to establish a mission at Futuna, instead of going to Rotuma.

But it was necessary to obtain the consent of the chief, Niuliki. On Saturday, 11th November, the Bishop, with Father Chanel, Brother Mary Nizier, Tom Boog and several other white men, went to Alo, the chief’s residence, and asked His Majesty to allow the two missionaries to stay in his kingdom. The proposition, submitted to a council, met with some opposition, but finally was agreed to on a motion of Maile, a chief famed for his courage. According to native fashion, kava was prepared and drunk by all as a token of friendship, a native repast was served, and, late at night, the Bishop and his companions were back on board the Raiatea, where some fear had been entertained for their safety.

The next day, Sunday, 12th November, Father Chanel took leave of Monsignor Pompallier, Father Servant and Brother Michael, who proceeded on their journey towards Rotuma and Sydney; he knelt down on this land which was to be the theatre of his apostolate and martyrdom, consecrated it to the Blessed Virgin Mary, affixed a Miraculous Medal to a tree, and stepped into his temporary abode in the chief’s house.

THE APOSTOLATE: 1837–1840

St. Paul wrote to the Corinthians: “I most gladly will spend myself and be spent for your souls; although loving you more, I be loved the less.” Father Chanel, for twenty years, since the day of his First Communion, had dreamed of spending himself and being spent for the souls of infidels. There he was now, among the pagan people of Futuna whom he loved with a purely supernatural charity, but by whom he would be less loved. During three years he spent himself untiringly for their conversion, and, before achieving any visible result, in the fourth year he was spent in glorious martyrdom.

I said before achieving any visible result. Indeed, we might say that his apostolate is summed up in one word, failure; but, once more in the Church’s history, this same word failure was to be turned into another-triumph. Futuna today is, and for the last hundred years has been, Catholic, wholly Catholic. Its conversion is truly the triumph of failure.

The apostolate itself was a failure. We cannot narrate great deeds followed by greater results; there is no tale to be told of churches and schools built, of eloquent preaching, of Sacraments administered with great solemnity. No, Father Chanel sowed in tears, that others might reap in joy; he led a hidden life, hidden from his friends abroad, hidden even from the very people whom he loved so much, and for whom he was exhausting all his energy.

Left on this small island of Futuna, thousands of miles away from their own country, separated from the nearest priest by one hundred miles of stormy sea, the missionaries were at the complete mercy of the chief Niuliki, who had agreed to keep them in his little dominion, but who, as we shall see, had been actuated in that concession by no supernatural motive. Not knowing when another boat might visit them and replenish their stores, they had to settle down immediately to native life. Food was supposed to be provided by the chief; at first, he saw to it that the missionaries were supplied with a scanty morning meal; but the cooks soon tired of preparing a meal of which they did not partake; the customary afternoon meal, native fashion, was considered as quite sufficient. Taros, yams, bananas and bread-fruits were the staple food, with some pork on festival occasions. Later on, the missionaries had their own garden, mostly tilled by their own hands, but it was systematically pillaged; or, when they had worked hard to grow and prepare some food, they saw their house invaded by a crowd of hungry people, who, native fashion again, came to partake of the meal and felt greatly hurt if sent away with an empty stomach. Did Father Chanel ever complain? No; his companion, Brother Mary Nizier, bears witness that “he remained always kind, gentle and cheerful, receiving all with an exquisite charity, and doing all he could to help everybody.”

The lodging was no better than the food. The missionaries first were lodged in the chief’s native house at Alo, and they saw many days pass before they secured a hut that they could call their own. After a few months, during an absence of Father Chanel, Niuliki moved to the other side of the island and he had all the priest’s belongings removed to his new residence; which meant another stay in the chief’s house. Subsequently Father Chanel had a small house built for himself by Tom Boog. A hurricane destroyed it once, but it was rebuilt. Scantily fed, poorly lodged, often overcome by fatigue, Father Chanel was, nevertheless, fulfilling his apostolic mission to the best of his ability. A stranger in a strange country, he first applied all his energy to mastering the native language, which was no easy matter without grammar or dictionary of any kind; and it was before 1840, that is to say, after three years, that he began to speak fluently. In the meantime, his imperfect knowledge was put to the best possible advantage.

Among the many difficulties which hindered the preaching of the Gospel, we may first mention the troubled state of the country and the war-like spirit of its inhabitants. Futuna, though very small, was divided into two factions, the victors and the vanquished, and each side had its own chief. At the time of Father Chanel’s arrival, Niuliki, of Alo, was the head of the victors and practically ruled over the whole of the island; but the vanquished of Sigave, were only waiting for an opportunity to fight and try to turn the tables. This opportunity offered itself in January, 1838; the war cry was heard all over Futuna; but, when one man had been killed on either side a parley was called and a peace arranged.

The next opportunity came fifteen months later, in July, 1839, and this time the war was more serious. After a great number of ambushes and skirmishes, a pitched battle took place on 10th August, wherein twenty-four of the vanquished and thirteen of the victors were slain: “a considerable number,” says Father Chanel, “for the small population of this island.” And what could he do in the midst of all this turmoil? Very little indeed, his counsels of peace went unheeded; his only consolation was to minister to the wounded and dying on the field of battle, and to baptize those who were sufficiently instructed in our holy religion; thus was baptized Maile, the valorous warrior, who had spoken in his favour at the fateful council of November, 1837.

We can easily understand how this continuous warfare was hampering the priest’s apostolate, and how little heed was taken of the Gospel of peace when all hearts were bent on struggle and revenge. Still another obstacle, and perhaps a greater one, was the deep-rooted paganism of the people. Like all the inhabitants of the Pacific Isles, the Futuna natives were literally steeped in superstition; from birth until death they were taught to dread and propitiate the innumerable evil spirits which surrounded them and were responsible for rain or sunshine, wind or calm, sickness or health, failure or success in any enterprise. And those spirits were supposed to dwell in, and act by, some man or other of the tribe, mostly the chiefs, the king himself being considered as the incarnation of the most powerful spirit of all. This explains how Niuliki, who, according to all accounts, liked Father Chanel and was really impressed by his beautiful doctrine, yet was afraid to embrace Christianity, lest his spirit should abandon him in anger and betray him into the hands of his enemies. On the other hand, it was plainly evident to Father Chanel that as long as the king held aloof there was little hope of the conversion of his subjects; the missionary’s aim, therefore, was the king’s conversion, and, as we already said, it resulted in a temporary failure.

Does it mean that Father Chanel’s labour was completely wasted? No, indeed; he prepared the way for the Gospel, as St. John the Baptist had prepared the way for the Saviour, and his preparation was no more lost than that of the Precursor, although both alike did not see the fruit of their efforts. Let us now cast a glance on this work of preparation.

F ather Chanel, as we have seen, lived first at the chief’s house, without privacy of any kind, and, for fear of “casting his pearls before swine,” he spent nearly a month without offering the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass. On 8th December, the feast of the Immaculate Conception, he said Mass privately, having waited until all the natives had left the village for their work, and he managed to do so six times before Christmas. Then he decided to officiate, as solemnly as possible in the circumstances, on Christmas night, Niuliki and some fifteen natives assisting at the ceremony.

In March, 1838, Father Chanel went to Wallis and spent two months there with Father Bataillon, making with the latter a comparative study of the native languages, translating the principal prayers and fitting himself generally for his missionary work.

We find him next at Poi, the chief’s new residence. There he travelled to the villages, visited the sick, baptized some dying children and adults. He complains in his journal that the sick were hidden from him; too often the mourning cries of the women were the first intimation he had that a person was ill and had died without the Sacraments. He lamented the hardheartedness of his beloved flock, but, says he, “their very obstinacy gives me the hope that, once converted, they will be firm in the practice of their religion.” On 16thMay, 1839, he writes: “Twenty baptisms, of which four were of adults and all in danger of death, such is the harvest of the last eighteen months; we see with pleasure that the natives” dispositions are getting better every day.”

In this same month of May, the two Futuna exiles were greatly consoled by the visit of Father Bataillon and three priests and three Brothers who were on their way to New Zealand. “This visit made a good impression,” writes Father Chanel; “the Bishop having failed to call within six months as promised, the natives were treating us as liars and said that we had been forsaken.” Father Bataillon remained at Futuna for two months, during which time both missionaries worked hard for the chief’s conversion.

Then came the war, to which we have already referred. After this war Niuliki transferred his residence to Tamana, whilst Father Chanel remained at Poi. Some of the chiefs showed a certain readiness to embrace the new religion, and one of them went to far as to say that the whole island was only waiting for the king to take the first step; but the king kept aloof, and now even forbade the supplying of food to the missionaries.

In May, 1840, Father Chevron and Brother Attale arrived at Futuna. They came from Wallis, where there was every promise of a bountiful spiritual harvest, and they hoped their presence might help to bring about the same result in Futuna. It was not to be, however, and, on the contrary, it would appear that their presence only aroused the petty persecution which had been already directed against the two first missionaries. “I still have the consolation of baptizing some children and adults in danger of death,” Father Chanel wrote at this time: “Our catechumens are too few and dare not appear in public, though they remain firm against the taunts and anger of their parents.”

In November, 1840, came the joyful news that the whole of Wallis had embraced the Faith, and at the same time an earnest appeal from Father Bataillon for help in gathering in the harvest. So it happened that, on 21st November, Father Chanel bade adieu to Father Chevron and Brother Attale, and again found himself alone with Brother Mary Nizier. Persecution, as we have said, was raging then in Futuna; the victim was ready for the sacrifice; the consummation was near at hand.

MARTYRDOM: 1841

In his last letter, dated 19thNovember, 1840, and addressed to Father Bataillon, Father Chanel says: “I take the keenest interest in your enviable position, and this is why I willingly let Father Chevron and Brother Attale return to share your cares and your consolations. The rumour of the Wallis conversion seems to have moved the spirits of our Futuna islanders. But, alas! now that my poor king Niuliki is definitely the victor, he seems to cling more than ever to his devilish practices. I sincerely wish he would receive some salutary lesson. The few young men who were beginning to join us were threatened with death by roasting, and this frightened them a little. Would to God that the example of your catechumens might inspire them!” We see here how anxious Father Chanel was for the conversion of Niuliki; but it was not to be. In fact, after Father Chevron’s departure, the persecution, far from abating, grew worse.

Father Chanel, having mastered the native language, exerted all his zeal in the instruction of his people. His patience was often sorely tried by all kinds of questions and puerile objections, such as might arise in the minds of savage people, but he never yielded to even the least sign of annoyance; so much so that all named him “the kind-hearted man.” His boundless charity attracted some of the best disposed among the natives; but, at the same time, his success excited the rage of the chiefs and pagan priests, who saw their influence undermined and threatened with extinction. “Our divinities will desert us,” they said, “as soon as the new strange one is introduced to our country. Let us destroy this new religion.”

And Niuliki, as king and as high priest, in whom was supposed to abide the mightiest spirit or divinity, found himself in a dilemma. A shifting personality was this Niuliki. On one hand, he really seemed to have been forcibly impressed by the priest’s teaching, to have admired his doctrine, and to have wished for his friendship. On the other hand, as high priest, he was afraid of his divinities, and as high chief he feared the other chiefs under him. And the result was that Niuliki indirectly ordered the priest’s death.

Here is the conversation, sworn to by a native witness in the process of beatification, between Niuliki and Musumusu

Niuliki: “You come here to ask me what is to be done; do what you like. I love this man (Father Chanel), be cause I have livedwith him. I do not tell you to strike him; nevertheless, I am not opposed to your striking. Do what you will.”

Musumusu: “Be at ease; leave the affair to us, and we shall act according to our will.”

This was about the middle of April, 1841. A few days later the rumour spread that the king’s eldest son, Meitala, had embraced the new faith. In a council of chiefs, where the question was debated whether they should kill all the catechumens, Musumusu declared: “Let us strike at the priest, for it is from him that the new religion comes; if he dies, his religion will die in Futuna.” And to somebody who asked whether this would be agreeable to Niuliki: “Yes,” he answered, “this will please him.” So. it. was decided first to ill-treat the catechumens and then murder the priest.

On the morning of 28th April, 1841, Father Chanel was alone near his poor little hut at Poi; Brother Mary Nizier had been sent two days before to Sigave to see a sick man and baptize any children who might be in danger of death. A man came asking medicine for Musumusu, who himself arrived soon after with another native. Whilst Father Chanel prepared the medicine a crowd assembled and began to loot the house. Musumusu shouted angrily: “Are you come only for the spoils? Why delay in killing this man?” At once a native struck with his club, instinctively the victim lifted up his right arm to ward off the blow, but the arm fell back, broken; another stroke of the club hit him on the left temple, and the blood gushed forth from the wound, as the victim repeated several times: ““Tis well, “tis well.” Another native struck with a spear, and Father Chanel fell back three or four steps, then dropped on the floor, his shoulders propped up against the wall, his head dropping, and blood flowing over his face.

At that moment one of the catechumens entered the house and told the priest that the only influential chief who could yet save him was far away at Alofi. The martyr understood that the last human hope had vanished, and to his faithful one, who wanted to help him out of the house, he said: “No, leave me here; death is a boon.”

Musumusu was there, threatening; the catechumen went outside, and immediately after, he heard a fearful blow. Looking in again he saw Musumusu trying to extract a hatchet from the head of Father Chanel. The savage chief then tore the soutane from the martyr’s body and ran away. Another man and woman stripped the body completely, and so it remained until a good Samaritan covered it with a native mat.

The sacrifice was complete; another name had been added to the long list of martyrs. The soul of Peter Aloysius Mary Chanel had gone to Heaven to plead the cause of his murderers.

THE TRIUMPH

We have seen the failure of Father Chanel’s apostolate, how the apostle was killed in order that his religion should die with him. But this apparent failure was to be turned into triumph; and this triumph was heralded from above immediately after the martyr’s death. Although the sky was clear, a darkness spread over Poi, and an awe-inspiring and rumbling sound was heard, followed by a formidable thunder-clap; and then there came a great calm. All the inhabitants witnessed this prodigy; the flying murderers and plunderers, seized with fear and trembling threw away their booty, and lay down or took to the bush.

This same day, Brother Mary Nizier, coming back to Poi, met a native who apprised him of the morning’s event, and practically forced him to retrace his steps towards Sigave, where he would be safe. Two weeks later an American vessel took the Brother, Tom Boog, and the other white men to Wallis. Father Chanel’s enemies rejoiced: “The priest is dead,” they said; “his religion is dead with him.” But their joy was short-lived; for the God, Whom they had rejected, soon showed them that He was the true and only God.

One of the king’s brothers, who had also been one of his main counsellors, died. Then the king himself was stricken with an awful disease; his body, from head to foot, became a putrid sore; he was carried here and there to all the divinities of the island, but to no purpose. He died in the midst of excruciating pains, and all the natives saw in his death the vengeance of Father Chanel’s God. Then the catechumens openly rebuked the murderers and pleaded that their atrocious deed would be the ruin of Futuna, whilst their only hope lay in adopting the martyr’s religion.

Less than a year later, on 18th January, 1842, a French sloop of war came to Futuna with Bishop Pompallier on board, andthe martyr’s body was demanded. On the 19th a chief, accompanied by thirty natives, brought the hallowed body, and at the same time offered a huge kava root in token of peace. Next day, at the Commander’s request, the natives brought all that could be found in the island of the martyr’s belongings, his chalice, some sacred vestments, a soutane, a crucifix . . . ; and then, plainly seeing that the Bishop, in spite of the warship’s presence, had come to them in no spirit of revenge, they had confidence to beg on their knees that another missionary might be sent to them.

This unexpected request could not be granted at once; but, four months later, on 29th May, 1842, Bishop Pompallier landed at Futuna with three priests, two Brothers, the now converted high chief of Wallis, and fifty of his subjects. So well disposed then were the people of Futuna that the Bishop, during his stay, baptized and confirmed 104 natives, amongst whom were the chief of Sigave and his wife and little daughter. In February, 1843, Father Servant could write: “It is just about eight months since we arrived at Futuna; we have already two churches, 840 Christians, and, to all appearances, the about eight months since we arrived at Futuna; we have already two churches, 840 Christians, and, to all appearances, the odd catechumens will soon be brought into the Saviour’s fold.” In July, 1844, another missionary wrote: “All the natives are baptized; many have already made their First Communion; their behaviour is truly edifying; they only require a little more instruction.”

When the apostle had failed, the martyr conquered; three years after his death the whole of Futuna was Catholic. Once more THE BLOOD OF THE MARTYR HAD BECOME THE SEED OF CHRISTIANS.

“The Blood of the MARTYR”; these words were whispered from the first; we can now repeat them loudly and clearly, far and wide, since our Holy Mother the Church has authorized them.

On 25th November, 1888, Father Peter Aloysius Mary Chanel was declared a Martyr, and on 16th November, 1889, he was ranked among the Blessed of the Heavenly Courts by a solemn decree of His Holiness Pope Leo XIII. Another title is bestowed on him in this same decree, which says: “Thus the illustrious PROTO-MARTYR OF OCEANIA, having shed his Pure blood on 28thApril, 1841, ascended into Heaven.”

On Saturday 12 June, 1954, His Holiness Pope Pius XII, declared, from the steps ofSt. Peter’s Basilica, to the hundreds of thousands in St. Peter’s Square, that Father Peter Aloysius Mary Chanel was numbered among the Saints.

HYMN IN HONOUR OF SAINT PETER CHANEL PRAISE TO PETER CHANEL’S NAME

To Mary’s son who died

In meekness, pain and poverty,

Like Thee, her Son, the Crucified.

Hearth and home no more could bind him,

Once Thy voice was heard;

In Mary’s name he braved the seas,

To bear afar Thy saving word.

Barren was the soil he sowed

But strong his love of Thee;

Each weary day he told the beads

That formed a martyr’s rosary.

Not for him the reaper’s joy;

And yet that and field

By grace fresh-watered, through his blood,

A harvest rich and full did yield.

Shepherd boy of France, who died

The sherperdless to save,

O lead us, through the “Gate of Heav’n,”

Safe to our home beyond the grave.

Mary, Mother, may thy name

In all lands honoured be!

O grant, like Peter Chanel, we

May live and die in love of thee.

(Approved by the Wellington Church Music Commission)

Copies of his hymn (words by Rev. Kevin Maher, S.M music by Rev. E. E. Kimbell, S.M.) may be had free on application to the Marist Messenger, Otaki, NZ

Peter Chanel’s Body in Australia

Giving Australia a most intimate connection with a canonized saint. BY J. GORINSKl, S.M.

There still stands today in the old Marist parish of Villa Maria, Hunter’s Hill, Sydney, the building in which the body of Peter Chanel was kept from May, 1849, to February, 1850, when it was sent home to its final resting-place in Lyons, France.

On 7th May, 1849, Father Rocher, Marist priest of Villa Maria, Sydney, received at a Sydney wharf, the damp bones of his friend, Peter Chanel, and taking them to the Villa Maria Monastery devoutly washed them to ensure their preservation.

Marist Missionary Peter Chanel had been martyred on Futuna Island, his remains having been sent first to New Zealand, then to Australia, on the way home to France. In a letter dated 6thMay, 1849, Father Rocher wrote: “Tomorrow we are going to Sydney to receive the precious remains of Father Chanel. . . . We shall place the coffin in the chapel of the Mission Procure. . . . We will probably wait (before sending it) until we find a captain whom we can trust. . . .” A later letter stated that the New Zealand port of departure was Auckland. Files of Sydney Morning Herald newspaper reveal that the brig Maukin, of one hundred and six tons, left Auckland on 15th April, and arrived in Port Jackson on 4th May. So it is certain that the martyr’s body rested in the chapel at the Mission Procure, Villa Maria, Hunter’s Hill, from 7th May, 1849. The exact place was not on the present Villa Maria site, but on the original Villa Maria property, a nearby site which now forms part of the Gladesville Hospital. This group of buildingsstill stands today, and has always been called “The Priory.”

We learn from records that the Fathers” chapel was first a small room in the main house, but “a short time afterwards” the separate chapel was erected, and here the faithful attended Mass on Sundays. This separate chapel was certainly the first Marist Church in Australia, and it still exists in an excellent state.

Was Peter Chanel’s body kept in this separate chapel or in the small room which served as the original chapel?

There is no definite information about the exact date of the erection of this separate chapel. If it had not been erected before 1849, naturally the body of Peter Chanel would have been placed in the chapel room of the main house. Because of the reference to building the separate chapel “a little time after,” which would have been a short time after the Marist Fathers took up residence there in 1847, I think there is a fairly strong probability that the new separate chapel had been constructed before May, 1849. It is also known that this new chapel had been in existence some time before the Fathers vacated the site late in the 1850”s for the present Villa Maria site. Consequently there is a fairly strong probability that while Peter Chanel’s body was in Australia, it rested in the separate chapel building.

On 1st February, 1850, Father Rocher wrote in a letter to Father Claude Colin, Superior-General and founder of the Society of Mary, that he was sending the body of the martyr to France under the supervision of Father C. Bernin, S.M.

The newspaper, Sydney Morning Herald, included the name, C. Bemin, on the passenger list of the ship, Waterloo, which left Port Jackson on Friday, 1st February, bound for London.

The body was received at the General House of the Society of Mary, in Lyons, France, in June, 1850, where it was officially recognized as the body of Peter Chanel.

Nihil Obstat:

D. P. MURPHY, Censor Deputatus.

Imprimatur:

@ D. MANNIX,

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis. 9th August, 1954.

********

Saint Peter And His Successors

BY MERVYN CLIVE

INDEX

IT is amazing how readily non-Catholics assume that the Papal claims are, at best, based on a single text, and that, for the rest, there is merely a lot of Roman sleight-of-hand without any substantial support; yet the truth is exactly the opposite. It is the Catholic who approaches the question, not by wishful thinking or specious argument, but as it actually is.

We are bidden to go to the Scriptures, and to the Scriptures we certainly shall go. It is indeed extraordinary that a truth which Jesus set in the forefront of His teaching should be so denied and set aside. There is scarcely a single truth He taught for which the Scriptural evidence is so complete and so conclusive. It is the purpose of this pamphlet to show, in some slight degree, the richness of this evidence, But, before doing so, there are one or two other points to notice, as a preliminary.

I

THE first is the gratuitous assumption that God did not or would not work through one man. The evidence lies entirely the other way. If we examine God’s way of dealing with mankind in the Old Testament, we find it always to be the same-one man appointed through whom God dealt with His people. Search as we will, we find that God always did work through one man-through Adam, through Noah, through Abraham, through Isaac, through Jacob, through Moses, through David. And God’s ways do not change.

As a corollary, it is entirely in accord with human experience in a world in which human beings have to live. We never find an army without a commander, a ship’s crew without a captain-or a football team. Could we then expect to find that Christ would have left His religious society without a head? Then again a king will stand by his viceroy in his legislation. That does not mean that the king is subservient to the viceroy. The viceroy derives his authority from the king who appoints him. That does not dethrone the king.

The second point for our attention is the change of name from Simon to Peter. God never changes a name without a real purpose. There are some half-a-dozen such changes of name in the Bible and a very definite purpose underlies each; indeed it would bespeak a puerile and unworthy attitude which would attribute such changes to mere caprice or childishness. Thus Abram was changed to Abraham, i.e. into “father of the faithful”, a change which sets forth his great destiny, as well as being a reward for his faith. (Gen. 17:5) So too with the other changes of name-Sarah, (Gen. 17:15) Jacob, (Gen. 32:29) Joshua, (Numbers 13:16) John the Baptist (Luke 1:59–60)-we find each change of name rich with significance.

The third point is the conflicting ideas of human beings on every conceivable topic. In religion we see it in the number of conflicting sects, each contradicting the other; and outside the sects are thousands upon thousands of individual men, each with his own opinions, none of them agreeing. Indeed, we have only to read the Epistles of St Paul to find that even in Apostolic times men were already following errors of their own making. Yet if by so much as a hair’s breadth we are worse off now, as regards the deposit of faith, than if our Lord had stayed visibly amongst us, then Satan triumphed in the Crucifixion, and death has had its victory. But, if He has left with ONE His divine wisdom to teach, His own authority to decide, then we are safeguarded, the Crucifixion is all triumph and death has left no sting.

II

THE Petrine claims rest, not on one passage of the Gospels, but on three, viz.: St Matthew 16 : 13–19, St Luke 22 :31–32, St John 21 : 15–17.

The striking feature, almost overwhelming in its force, is that these three passages which might, at first sight, appear isolated from each other are actually inter-locked. Each carries the teaching further forward. Each presumes the others, and together they form a magnificent chain of proof, reinforcing and strengthening each other.

The passage from St Matthew is: “And Jesus came into the quarters of Caesarea Philippi: and He asked His disciples, saying: “Whom do men say that the Son of man is?” But they said: “Some John the Baptist, and some others Elijah, and others Jeremiah or one of the prophets.” Jesus says to them: “But whom do [all] you say that I am?” Simon Peter answered and said: “You are Christ, the Son of the Living God.” And Jesus answering, said to him: “Blessed are you [singular] Simon Bar-Jona: because flesh and blood has not revealed it to you [singular], but My Father who is in heaven. And I say to you [singular]: That you [singular] are Peter, and upon this rock I will build My Church, and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it. And I will give to you [singular] the keys of the kingdom of heaven. And whatsoever you [singular] shall bind upon earth, it shall be bound also in heaven: and whatsoever you [singular] shall loose on earth, it shall be loosed also in heaven.”

Then He commanded His disciples that they should tell no one that He was Jesus the Christ. From that time Jesus began to show to His disciples that He must . . . suffer many things . . . and be put to death”.

Itwas in the last year of Jesus” life. Jesus had deliberately taken His twelve Apostles apart, in the far north of Galilee, away from the tumults of men. To the question of minor importance (“whom men said He was”) they answer.

Then comes the crucial question, “Whom do you (note the plural) say that I am?” and only Peter answers. It is not what men in general fancied that mattered, but what His own disciples had come to believe about Him. To the supreme question only Peter answers. Immediately Jesus takes us, as it were, deeper into the source of that great answer, showing us that a special gift has been vouchsafed by a special revelation to a special person and that person is Peter.

This is the moment up to which the earlier change of name, recorded by all four evangelists (see especially John 1:42), has led; this is the moment for its significance to be revealed. Jesus emphasizes and underlines it by calling him first by his original name, Simon son of Jona, and then by the changed name He has given him. Jesus spoke in Aramaic, and in Aramaic the name Peter (Cephas) means rock. In English, “Peter” and “rock” are two different words but some languages, e.g. Latin and French, are similar in this respect to Aramaic and have the same single word for both. If therefore we put the words into French, “Tu est Pierre et sur cette pierre, je batirai mon eglise”, the significance of the words used by our Lord, the significance of the change of name, will strike us with the clarity of a flash of lightning.

“You are Peter and upon this Peter I will build My Church.” “You are rock and upon this rock.” The allusion to “rock” as a foundation was no chance allusion. Jesus has made this clear from His parable of the house built on a rock that stood firm, as compared with that built ons sand that was swept away (Luke 6: 48 and Matthew 7:24–27).

Jesus” next words drive home and amplify the prerogative given to Peter: “I will give to thee (notice the singular) the keys of the kingdom of heaven”. The keys have always symbolized the power of command over a city, or a society of men. We find an exact parallel in Isaiah (22: 22):”And I will lay the key of the house of David upon his shoulder: and he shall open, and none shall shut: and he shall shut, and none shall open”. Here then is the fullness of the promise, made in the clearest and most unmistakable words, Peter the rock, to whom are given the keys, and against his city the powers of darkness shall not prevail. Jesus points the climax by following up His promises to Peter with an immediate unfolding, as He never had before, of His coming sufferings and death.

As regards the power of binding and loosing, all the Apostles were given it a little later (Matt. 18: 18). Yet the expressive use of the singular here singles out Peter as the recipient of jurisdictional powers in an especial way. What all received together, he had already received in a particular manner, holding primatially what they all had. They all naturally had jurisdiction; Peter alone had primatial jurisdiction; this is signified, and as it were underlined, emphasized and driven home, by the power of the keys-a power which was certainly not conferred on the other Apostles. Any other interpretation quite clearly makes a nonsense of the binding and loosing in one or other of the chapters in Matthew (16 or 18).

* *

The Passage in St Luke

The Passage in St Luke 32) is: “And the Lord said: “Simon, Simon, behold Satan has desired to have you (plural) that he may sift you (plural) as wheat. But I have prayed for thee (singular) that thy (singular) faith fail not: and thou (singular), being once converted, confirm thy [singular] brethren.”“ and thou (singular), being once converted, confirm thy [singular] brethren.”“

21, and John 6:69), includes Peter’s confession of faith but he gives neither the promises to Peter nor the rebuke to him, “Get you behind Me, Satan”. (See Matthew 16:23) All the evangelists mention the dispute at the Last Supper, but it is St Luke who gives his special and peculiar contribution to the Petrine texts, “Satan has desired to have you (plural), I have prayed for thee (singular)”.

In other words, the strength of the Apostolic Body was not to be found in Christ’s prayer for them; it was to be in His prayer for their Chief, and consequently for all of them as members of the one body of which Peter is the head. We have said that the three passages are inter-woven, and support each other. The above passage does not stand, simply by itself, because nowhere in St Luke’s Gospel was Peter made the head, only in St Matthew. Christ’s declaration, then, that He had prayed for Peter would have been unintelligible to the Apostles had they not already heard the earlier promise.

* *

The silence of St Mark is exactly what we should expect, since St Mark derives his Gospel from St Peter. It heightens our respect for St Peter to find that no single commendation of St Peter is to be found in it, but that all that is derogatory is faithfully preserved. His denial of his Master is given at great length. The omissions too are significant. St Mark gives the Confession of Faith, but is silent on the promises and does not fail to record the rebuke, “Get you behind Me, Satan” (Mark 8: 33). He also omits the walking on the water, and the miracle of the coin. (see Matthew 14: 22–33, and 17: 24–27) Even so, there slips out once, as it were unintentionally, in the Resurrection narrative (Mark 16: 7), Peter’s true relation to the others: “Go tell His disciples-and Peter”.

The record both of the denial and the rebuke are interesting. In itself, the denial may seem to take up a disproportionate amount of space in the account of the Passion, particularly in St Mark and St John. Why? The answer surely is to show us first and foremost that Peter’s privileges are in the supernatural order only and are not going to change his personal character. The privilege for him and his successors was in no way for his and their personal benefit, but that the faithful throughout the world may always be preserved in the truth.

We have seen that Matthew and Luke each gives us one great Petrine text. These are not, however, mere isolated passages; they are the natural outcome of a crowd of allusions and incidents which, without these great texts, would be meaningless. There is nothing in Mark’s Gospel which justifies “Go tell His disciples-and Peter”. But it is clear in the light of the “You are Peter”.

* *

It might at first sight seem hopeless to look for the doctrine of the Papacy in the Fourth Gospel. The other three evangelists wrote for the Church in her infancy, St John for her maturity. His aim, as he tells us explicitly, was to set forth the Godhead of Christ. Hence we can scarcely expect him to add vitally to our quest. So we are not surprised that no promises follow upon Peter’s confession of faith. (see John 6:69)

Whilst all four evangelists consider the change of name sufficiently important to be mentioned, St John alone enlarges on it; “You shall be called Cephas which is interpreted Peter”. Luke 22 was unintelligible without Matthew 16 and now we see that Matthew 16 is unintelligible without John 1: 42. St John also habitually uses the double title Simon Peter , as if insisting on the importance of the new name. As the story develops, Simon Peter comes more and more to the fore. Nowhere else does he play such a prominent part in the Resurrection.

St John’s Gospel appears to end at chapter 20, then comes as an afterthought-a species of appendix-one more chapter. “Feed My Sheep “ is the third promise to Peter. It comes after the Resurrection, and, as well as confirming him in the position he might have forfeited by his denial, is the final promise, crowning and completing the other two. (See John 21:15–17)

But St John is at pains, not merely to give this final promise, but to give the relative positions occupied by St Peter and himself. This is one essential feature of his narrative which does not merely tell us-as so many imagine-that Peter was restored to favour. John is fully conscious of, indeed he is insistent on it, his own great position as “the beloved disciple”, but over it he himself sets the claims of Peter.

And, at the time, Peter had been dead for more than 30 years. There is the circumstance that must make us pause and reflect. He, Peter, was to be shepherd of the entire flock. But Peter was long since dead. Why this tremendous insistence upon Peter’s position? Simply because Peter was living on in his successors and, even during John’s own lifetime, he was exercising Peter’s prerogative of shepherding the entire flock, as we see for instance in Pope St Clement’s letter to the Corinthian Church. (96 A.D.) To Peter and his successors, and not to John, was given the supreme commission to feed the entire flock of Christ.

The passage from St John really embraces the whole of his twenty-first chapter and should be read, but for reasons of space we can only give the more relevant parts: “This is now the third time that Jesus was manifested to His disciples, after He was risen from the dead. When therefore they had dined, Jesus says to Simon Peter: “Simon, son of John., love you Me more than these?” He says to Him: “Yea, Lord, You know that I love You.” He says to him: “Feed My lambs.” He says to him again: “Simon, son of John, love you Me?” He says to Him: “Yea, Lord, You know that I love You.” He says to him: “Feed My lambs.” He says to him the third time: “Simon, son of John, love you Me?” Peter was grieved, because He had said to him the third time: “Love you Me?” And he said to Him: “Lord, You know all things: You know that I love You.” He said to him: “Feed My sheep.”“

Jesus sets Peter apart. He says to him, “Feed My lambs”. Again does Jesus repeat the question but this time the word for “feed” would be more closely translated “shepherd”-it is the same word as is used for the Good Shepherd. “Shepherd My whole flock.” A third time Jesus puts His question and receives the answer.

This time He says, “Feed My sheep”. “Feed” is correct here, and it emphasizes the main part of a shepherd’s duty. Thus, then, does Jesus clearly and repeatedly entrust His flock to Peter.

And His meaning is even clearer by reason of the metaphor He chooses of sheep and lambs. For hitherto, that metaphor belonged to Christ alone, “I am the good shepherd”. Now, in His final injunctions to His Apostles, He transfers it deliberately to Peter. Could there be any conceivable way by which Jesus could have made His intention to confer His jurisdiction on Peter clearer?

Jesus rises and bids Peter to follow Him alone. The other Apostles are left, even John is not allowed to come. Peter is taken and the last divine words, sounded in our ears by the lastof the Apostles, are, “Follow Me, Follow you Me”.

Follow in the work of shepherd, follow in feeding My flocks, follow in distributing grace, follow by My power in the work I have done on earth as the good shepherd.

To the titles of rock, holder of the keys, binder and looser, strengthener of his brethren, we must add shepherd of His sheep.

We have said that these three passages inter-lock with a significance that cannot be set aside, and with a cumulative force that is convincing beyond measure. But there is still one more consideration which crowns all the others, binds them together, and sets, as it were, a seal to all that has gone before.

It is this. Each marks a critical stage in our Lord’s mission on earth, each is placed in the position of deepest significance, in the same way that we concentrate the lime-light on an event which we wish to emphasize as the key of a problem. For consider:

(i) The’Tu es Petrus’ of St Matthew marks the climax in the training of the Apostles, and from this point they approach the Passion and the Cross.

(ii)The “Confirm your brethren” of St Luke marks the hour of deepest trial, and points to a future of even greater trial. The scene is the Last Supper, the eve of the Passion and the Crucifixion.

(iii) The “Feed My lambs and My sheep” of St John marks the risen life of our Lord after the Resurrection. It looks forward to the end of time, to that final resurrection, which marks the close of the life of the Church Militant. Hence it finds fitting place in the scene by the lake-side when the risen Saviour dined with His disciples for the last time before the Ascension.

Could anything be more significant?

III

NEXT, WE WILL CONSIDER FOUR MIRACLES, VIZ.:

(i) The first miraculous draught of fishes (Luke 5: 1). (ii) Peter walks on the water (Matt. 14: 22).

(iii) The fish and the coin (Matt. 17: 23).

(iv) The second miraculous draught of fishes (John 21: 3).

These miracles are special miracles, commanded by our Lord, in which He, as it were, uses St Peter as His agent. These miracles were also private miracles in the sense that they were worked within the company of the Apostles, and in all cases the one whom our Lord chose was St Peter.

Most of our Lord’s miracles were worked before the eyes of many, or in such a way that the knowledge of them was spread abroad: the great end was to prove that He was from God, the promised Saviour. And for the most part, though not always, they were worked at the prayer of the sufferer or of others asking for him. But these four were worked before the Apostles alone-not even before all of them-and not in answer to prayer, our Lord Himself willing them and bringing them about.

In our first miracle, Jesus calls Peter to be with Him. The other three (James, John and Andrew) are treated merely as Peter’s companions. Jesus sees two ships standing by the lake, and enters into Peter’s. Jesus teaches the people out of the chosen ship and that ship Peter’s, just as to-day He teaches the people out of the chosen see, and that see Peter’s.

They had fished all night and caught nothing. To Jesus” command to launch again into the deep, Simon answers, “I will let down”; he speaks of himself as one having authority, as our Lord’s agent in this commanded miracle. It is the joint action of Jesus and Peter, both in Peter’s boat-only Peter’s boat, for they had to beckon to the other ship to come to sea.

Thus was the great draught of fishes taken, and St Luke continues: “Which when Simon Peter saw, he fell down at Jesus” knees, saying: “Depart from me, for I am a sinful man, O Lord”“. Notice here that it has always been “Simon” until now: but now the Office-name of Peter is added as if to turn our thoughts to the meaning of this parable-miracle. The others do not fall down, because only he had been joined in the miracle, as a worker in Our Lord’s name. St Luke adds that after it, “Jesus says to Peter: “Fear not: from henceforth you shall catch men”“.

* *

The second”commanded” miracle, when Peter walked on the water, is especially graphic. It is not to show Peter first among equals-divine wonders need not be worked for such a mere human superiority as this.

St Matthew tells us (14: 22) that Jesus “obliged His disciples to go up into the boat”-He arranges the whole incident. St John adds(6: 18) that “the sea arose, by reason of a great wind that blew”. In spite of all their efforts, the Apostles had only covered three miles by 3 A.M., less than half the distance across the lake. And they saw Jesus walking on the water, and they cried outfor fear. But Peter said, “Lord, if it be You, bid me come to You upon the waters.” Mark what the act is. Never before or since has it been heard that a mere man should walk upon the sea. It is a self-sought danger; St Mark tells us the reason of his going(6: 48). His Lord came unto them “and would have passed by them”, as He did with the two disciples at Emmaus, He made “as if He would have gone further”.

“And He said: “Come.” And Peter, going down out of the boat, walked upon the water to come to Jesus”. It is a commanded miracle, and worked only for Peter. How easily might Jesus have gone at once to the ship. But He does not, nor would it seem does He advance towards Peter. The Apostle travels on alone until “seeing the wind strong, he was afraid”. But he had seen this before, and had not been afraid. It reads as if Jesus had permitted the wind to increase in fury and the wave to dash more angrily-the reply as it were of Peter’s foes to Peter’s act of faith. Jesus sees and permits all.

Then follows the picture of Jesus and Peter alone upon the waves together, the disciple fearing no more, up borne by his Master. Christ supports Peter, who of his own strength would sink, who by his Lord’s strength does what none other may do-his brethren not equal to him, not walking the waves by his side, not called as he was.

The Gospel reads as if this picture was kept by Jesus for some time before the eyes of the Apostles. Together they walked, together returned to the ship, and then . . .”the wind ceased”. The reason for which Jesus allowed the tempest was over. Our Lord had completed His lesson to the Apostles, had shown them His purpose for Peter-Christ and Peter, they two together over the world, for the sea with all its tossing has ever been a likeness of the unwilling world. And so, “the wind ceased”. * *

The third commanded miracle, the fish and the coin, is perhaps the strangest in the whole Gospels (only St Matthew relates it), and becomes utterly irrelevant and pointless if we deliberately set Peter aside.

It is not so much single incidents of this kind that are so significant of the position assigned to Peter, as their cumulative force. Once again, our Lord deals direct with Peter alone, indeed He “prevents him” in the sense that He opens the subject, which from the context Peter is possibly about to raise. He calls on Peter to do and expect an astonishing thing-the faith of none of the others is tried.

The miracle is surely rich in significance. Jesus joins him closely to Himself, “for Me and you”-as the Vicar of His power for whose needs, as for Himself, He will provide. As Christ was independent of giving tribute to earthly powers, so also is Peter.

* *

The last commanded miracle is the second miraculous draught of fishes. It closes the last Gospel and is picked out by St John rather than the many other things. The Gospels would surely not be closed for all time by an unimportant truth, which loses its importance if Peter is not the shepherd of all sheep.

Seven Apostles are present for this “private” miracle. Note how very detailed the account is, and how vivid- thus Peter’s “I go a fishing”; “Cast your nets on the right side” (the saved are on the right at the last day).

St John first recognizes Jesus. Does he go at once to Him, or tell the others? No, he tells Peter, and Peter goes to Him. Jesus and Peter, once more together, are together alone on the shore, the symbol of eternity, towards which the fish on the right side are to be drawn.

Are we told thatthe other Apostles draw the fish to land? No. “Simon Peter drew the net to land, fall of great fishes, one hundred and fifty three.” It is noteworthy that they are caught on the right side, and in a particular number, as when the number of the elect will be completed on the last day.

Here then we have four miracles that quite obviously were worked away from the public gaze, and were designed for our Lord’s immediate Apostles. In each case they concern one single Apostle, and always the same Apostle, Peter. They become meaningless and empty if they convey no special function designed for that Apostle.

IV

It is necessary, in a small pamphlet such as this, to compress the many other relevant passages in the New Testament. Yet we must mention a very striking event, which could scarcely be more emphatic or clearer in the light it gives us of the prerogatives of Peter and his successors.

It is the filling of the place left vacant by Judas, and it is set right at the beginning of Acts (1: 15). It takes place in the nine days between the Ascension and the coming of the Holy Ghost. Peter stands up in the midst of the disciples and tells them that one must be chosen to fill the vacant place. Notice that word “must”. Peter does not say, “I counsel”, nor does he put it to the meeting. He does not ask for advice and no discussion follows-the others accept it and pray to know whom God has chosen. Peter orders, and handles with authority the choice of an Apostle, a subject which hitherto had been entirely and completely the special prerogative of Jesus.

There had been plenty of time since Easter Sunday, had Jesus chosen to do this thing before He left earth. Even in those appearances that are recorded, we know that he had with Him at one time 120, at another 500 of His followers, both suitable occasions had He so wished. Yet Jesus leaves it to Peter-it does look like a definite purpose. And Peter is quite clear how it is to be done. He speaks as one knowing the Divine mind and the whole Church accepts at once this assumption by Peter of the special prerogative of Jesus. What act can prove headship, if this does not?

* *

In the lists of the Apostles, Peter’s name always stands first. Now Peter was first neither in age nor in priority of election, his elder brother Andrew having been chosen before him. Especially significant is St Luke’s second list, given in Acts 1: 13. Peter is again first. Andrew, however, who had shared Peter’s title of fisher of men, is no longer second, because our Lord had given special place both to James and John, at the Transfiguration, in the Garden of Gethsemani and on other occasions. James the Less is in exactly the same position as before, though at the time St Luke wrote (if it was after 62 A.D.) he had already gained his martyr’s crown, besides having been Bishop of Jerusalem. Clearly, then, Peter was first, not only in rank and honour, but also in authority.

And now we must summarize:

Peter preached the first sermon (Acts 2: 14) made the first converts (Acts 2: 38) wrought the first miracle (Acts 3: 6) inflicted the first punishment (Acts 5: 3) opened the door of the Church to the Gentiles (Acts 10: 47) gave the first solemn definition (Acts 15: 7).

To the statistically minded, there is the tremendous disparity between the frequency Peter is mentioned in the Gospels and Acts, and the mention of the other Apostles chosen by Jesus. Peter is mentioned 141 times. Of the others, John’s name occurs far the most frequently-just 46 times.

* *

No scholar nowadays denies that Peter was at Rome. Granted that Peter held a unique position, did it pass on from him to the Bishops of Rome? The natural answer to this is, “If not to them, to whom?” Antioch is as old a see. Did Antioch ever contest the point? The whole point of designating a representative would be to ensure that this representation should be permanent. God foreknows the future, and therefore foresaw the claims of Rome through the ages. Is it likely then, is it possible that He would continue deliberately to single out Peter over and over again and on the most solemn occasions, and so set His seal upon the false? Again and again Peter is singled out in a very special way. Peter’s name rings ever from the lips of Jesus, Peter’s special instruction is repeatedly in the mind of Jesus. Can any Christian conceive that Jesus acted thus aimlessly when every other action of His was fraught with so much significance? Can anyone conceive that He acted thus, not merely aimlessly, but deliberately to deceive what has always been the largest part of those who believe in Him?

We are often bidden to go to the Scriptures, and to the Scriptures we have gone. Is not the evidence as full as can be? Taken individually, it is very strong. Taken cumulatively, it is overwhelming. Anyone then who sets out to explode the Petrine claims must take into account, not merely the great texts, but the entire structure of each Synoptic Gospel. It is not a case of deleting or destroying this or that text, but of destroying the whole fabric of the Gospels.

* * *

This pamphlet has been compiled mainly from two sources. These are Talks About St Peter by Fr Bampfield (two. . . . pamphlets which have been out of print for many years), and a lecture given at a Cambridge Summer School by Fr Hugh Pope O.P.

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Saint Philip Benizi, Conf

INDEX

A.D. 1285

THIS principal ornament and propagator of the religious order of the Servites in Italy was of the noble families of Benizi and Frescobaldi in Florence, and a native of that city. He was born on August 15, in the year 1233, which is said by some to be the very feast of the Assumption on which the seven Founders of the Servites had their first vision of our Lady. His parents, Giacomo and Albaverde, had been long married but childless, and Philip was a child of prayer. Through their care, assisted by grace, Philip preserved his soul untainted by vice and the world, and daily advanced in the fear of God. At the age of thirteen, having gone through preliminary studies in his own country, he was sent to Paris to apply himself to the study of medicine, in which charity was his motive; and Galen, though a heathen, was a strong spur to him in raising his heart continually from the contemplation of nature to the worship and praise of its Author. From Paris he travelled to Padua, where he pursued the same studies, and took the degree of doctor in medicine and philosophy at the age of nineteen. After his return to Florence he took some time to deliberate with himself what course to steer, earnestly begging God to direct him into the path in which he should most perfectly fulfil His will. For a year he practised his profession, spending his leisure time in the study of sacred Scripture and the Fathers and in prayer for guidance, especially before a certain crucifix in the abbey-church at Fiesole and before a picture of the Annunciation in the Servite chapel at Carfaggio, just outside the walls of Florence.

At this time the Servites, or Order of the Servants of Mary, had been established fourteen years, having been founded by seven gentlemen of Florence as described under their feast on February 12, but had not yet been officially recognized by the Holy See. At their principal house on Monte Senario, six miles from Florence, they lived in little cells, something like the hermits of Camaldoli, possessing nothing but in common, and professing obedience to St Buonfiglio Monaldi. The austerities which they practised were great, and they lived mostly on alms; St Buonfiglio was the first superior of this company. On the Thursday in Easter Week, 1254, Philip was in prayer at Fiesole when the figure on the crucifix seemed to say to him,” Go to the high hill where the servants of My Mother are living, and you will be doing the will of My Father.” Pondering these words deeply Philip went to the chapel at Carfaggio to assist at Mass, and was strongly affected with the words of the Holy Ghost to the deacon Philip, which were read in the epistle of that day, “Go near and join thyself to this chariot.” His name being Philip he applied to himself these words as an invitation to put himself under the care of the Blessed Virgin in that order, and he seemed to himself, in a dream or vision, to be in a vast wilderness (representing the world) full of precipices, rocks, flint-stones, briers, snares, and venomous serpents, so that he did not see how it was possible for him to escape so many dangers. Whilst he was thus in dread and consternation he thought he beheld our Lady approaching him in a chariot and about to speak to him, but he was recalled to his surroundings by St Alexis Falconieri who, thinking he was asleep, had shaken him by the shoulder. “God forgive you, Brother Alexis,” said Philip. “You have brought me back from Paradise.” But that night the vision was repeated and our Lady called him to her new order. Reflecting that great watchfulness and an extraordinary grace are requisite to discover every lurking rock or quicksand in the course of life in the world, and persuaded that God called him to this order as to a place of refuge, he went to Monte Senario and was admitted by St Buonfiglio to the habit as a laybrother, that state being more agreeable to his humility “ I wish,” he said, “to be the servant of the Servants of Mary.” In consideration of the circumstances in which he had joined the order he retained his baptismal name in religion. He began his novitiate at Carfaggio but was afterwards sent back to Monte Senario, where he was made gardener and put to work at every kind of hard country labour. The saint cheerfully applied himself to it in a spirit of penance and accompanied his work with constant recollection and prayer; he lived in a little cave behind the church where, in ecstacies of divine love, he often forgot the care which he owed to his body. He concealed his learning and talents till they were at length discovered; but those who conversed with him admired the prudence and light with which he spoke on spiritual things. He was sent in 1258 to the Servite house at Siena and on the way there he undesignedly displayed his abilities in a discourse on certain controverted points, in the presence of two learned Dominicans and others, to the great astonishment of those that heard him, and especially of his companion, Brother Victor.

The matter was reported to the prior general, who examined St Philip closely and then had him promoted to holy orders, though nothing but an absolute command could extort his consent to such a step. He was ordained by the Bishop of Florence on Holy Saturday in 1259 but did not say his first Mass until the following Pentecost.

All Philip’s hopes of livi ng out his life in quiet and obscurity, serving God and his brethren as a lay-brother, were now at an end. He was appointed assistant to St Buonfiglio, who had retired from the generalate and been made colleague to his successor, which involved travelling about with him throughout Tuscany, Umbria, Emilia, and Lombardy, visiting the houses of the order. Buonfiglio died in 1261 and St Philip thereupon went to the Siena monastery as novice-master. He filled this congenial office for only eighteen months, being taken from it to be one of the four vicars appointed by the chapter to assist the prior general; soon after he became himself colleague of the prior general. In 1267 a chapter of the whole order (which had been in effect recognized by Pope Alexander IV eight years before) was held at Carfaggio; at this chapter St Manettus resigned the generalship and, in spite of his protests, St Philip Benizi was unanimously elected in his stead. During his first year of office he made a general visitation of the provinces of northern Italy, which at the time were torn and distracted by the strife of Guelf and Ghibelline. It was on this tour that his first miracle was reported of him, very similar to one attributed to St Dominic and other saints: owing to the troubles the Servites of Arezzo were unable to get food and were on the verge of starvation; when they assembled for supper there was nothing to eat until, when St Philip had exhorted them to have faith and had prayed before our Lady’s image in the church, a knock was heard at the monastery door and two large baskets of good bread were found on the steps. He codified the rules and constitutions of the Servite order and this work was confirmed by the general chapter held at Pistoia in 1268; afterwards he submitted them to Pope Clement IV at Viterbo and would on the same occasion have asked leave to give up his office. But he was so warmly dissuaded by his colleague, Brother Lottaringo, that he resigned himself to holding it so long as his brethren should wish, which proved to be for the rest of his life.

Upon the death of Clement IV the conclave assembled at Viterbo early in 1269, and it was rumoured that Cardinal Ottobuoni, protector of the Servites, had proposed St Philip to succeed him, and that the suggestion was well received. When word of this came to Philip’s ears he ran away and hid himself in a cave among the mountains near Radicofani, where he was looked after for three months by Brother Victor, until he deemed the danger past (the cardinals were unable to agree and it was not till September 1271 that Theobald Visconti, Archdeacon of Liege, was elected as Gregory X). During this retreat St Philip rejoiced in an opportunity of giving himself up to contemplation; he lived chiefly on dry herbs, and drank at a fountain, since esteemed miraculous and called St Philip’s bath, situated on a mountain named Montagnata. He returned from the desert glowing with zeal to kindle in the hearts of Christians the fire of divine love. After the chapter at Florence at Whitsun of the same year he appointed a vicar general there to govern his order and with two companions, St Sostenes and St Hugh, two of the seven original founders, undertook an extensive mission, preaching with great fruit at Avignon, Toulouse, Paris, and in other great cities in France, and also in Flanders, Friesland, Saxony, and Higher Germany. He left Sostenes at Paris in charge of the scattered Servite houses of France, and proceeded to establish the order in Germany, where he deputed Hugh as vicar and gave him as assistant the neophyte Bd. John of Frankfort, who became one of the saint’s most loved disciples. Philip visited Germany again in 1275 and 1282, but before that he was summoned by Bd. Gregory X to be present at the second general council of Lyons. At it he made a profound impression and the gift of tongues was attributed to him, but his reputation did not serve to obtain for the Servites that formal papal approbation for which St Philip worked continually. The Council in fact reiterated the decree of the fourth Council of the Lateran forbidding new religious orders, and the Servites were more than ever in danger of suppression till the death of Bd. Innocent V in 1276; even then the desired confirmation did not come till 1304, nineteen years after Philip’s death.

The saint announced the word of God wherever he came and had an extraordinary talent in converting sinners and in reconciling those that were at variance. Italy was still horribly divided by discords and hereditary factions. Holy men often sought to apply remedies to these quarrels, which had a happy effect upon some; but in many these discords, like a wound ill cured, broke out again with worse symptoms than ever. Papal Guelfs and imperial Ghibellines were the worst offenders, and in 1279 Pope Nicholas III gave special faculties to Cardinal Latino to deal with them. He invoked the help of St Philip Benizi, who wonderfully pacified the factions when they were ready to tear each other to pieces at Pistoia, and other places. He succeeded at length also at Forli, but not without first exposing himself to many dangers. The seditious insulted and beat him in the city, but his patience at length disarmed their fury, and vanquished them. Peregrine Laziosi, who was their ringleader and had himself struck the saint, was so powerfully moved by the example of his meekness and sanctity that he threw himself at his feet and with tears begged his pardon and prayers. Being become a model penitent he was received by him into-the order of Servites at Siena in 1283, and continued his penance till his happy death in the eightieth year of his age. So evident were his holiness and perseverance that he was canonized by Benedict XIII in 1726. St Philip made the sanctification of his religious brethren the primary object of his zeal, as it was the first part of his charge, and he attracted a number of notably good men to himself. Among them were Bd. John of Frarikfort and St Peregrine, mentioned above; Bd. Joachim Piccolomini, who met Philip at Siena; Bd. Andrew Dotti, a soldier, and Bd. Jerome, both of Borgo San Sepolcro; Bd. Bonaventure of Pistoia, converted by a sermon of the saint from a life of violence and crime; Bd. Ubald of Florence, whose quarrelling had turned Florence upside down; and Bd. Francis Patrizi. In 1284 St Alexis Falconieri put his niece St Juliana under the direction of St Philip, and from his advice to her sprang the third order regular of the Servants of Mary. He was also responsible for sending the first Servite missionaries to the East, where some penetrated to Tartary and there gave their blood for Christ. Throughout his eighteen years of generalship of his order Philip had as his official colleague Lottaringo Stufa, whom he had known and loved from boyhood. They remained the closest friends and the utmost confidence subsisted between them; Philip made Lottaringo his vicar whenever he had to leave Italy, and was followed by him in the generalship. Their long association was an ideal partnership.

Four hundred years before Abbot de Rancé, Philip Benizi realized that a religious community in which regular discipline is weakened and those who profess the rule are strangers to its true spirit is not a harbour or place of refuge, but a shipwreck of souls. Scarce could a saint be able to resist such example or the poison of such an air, in which everyone is confined. Though gross crimes of the world are shut out, the want of the religious spirit and a neglect of the particular duties of that state are enough to damn souls. To preserve his family from so fatal a misfortune, he never ceased to watch and pray. Judging at length by the decay of his health that the end of his life drew near, he set out in 1285 to make the visitation of the convents of his order and at Florence convened a general chapter at which he announced his approaching departure and handed over the government to Father Lottaringo. “Love one another! Love one another! Love one another!” he adjured the friars, and so left them. He went to the smallest and poorest house of the order, at Todi, where he was enthusiastically received by the citizens, and when he could escape from them he went straight to the altar of Our Lady, and falling prostrate on the ground prayed with great fervour, and said,” This is the place of my rest for ever.” He made a moving sermon on the glory of the blessed on the feast of the Assumption of the Mother of God, but at three o’clock in the afternoon of that day was taken seriously ill. He sent for the community, and again spoke of brotherly love “ Love one another, reverence one another, and bear with one another.” Seven days later the end came; he called for his “book,” by which word he meant his crucifix, and devoutly contemplating it, calmly died at the hour of the evening Angelus. The cultus of St Philip Benizi was confirmed for the whole Church by Pope Clement X in 1671.

Saint Philip Neri

BY RALEIGH ADDINGTON OF THE LONDON ORATORY

INDEX

PIPPO BUONO

Some young men were playing games in the warm Roman sunshine outside Philip Neri’s room. When Baronius, the learned Church historian intent on his writing protested at the noise, Philip told them to go on. “So long as they don’t sin,” he said, “they can chop wood on my back.” This little incident from a long and crowded life of nearly eighty years is typical of the man who is known as the “Apostle of Rome” and the founder of the Oratory. It shows his love of youth, the pains he took to draw them to God’s service and to make that service attractive. In his last years he had a balcony above his room where he could see the sky and where he would go for long hours of solitary prayer. When summoned to hear confessions or to see someone who had called he came downinstantly with the words “We must leave Christ for Christ.” Philip was a mystic of the highest order, a man of ecstasies and visions, whose greatest happiness was to be alone with God. Yet at the call of charity he gave up the delight of prayer and sought God instead in helping his neighbour. His whole life is that of the contemplative in action.

It was lived against the background of the Reformation and the Counter-Reformation or Catholic Revival. He was two years old when Luther began his revolt against the Church in Germany. He arrived in Rome one year before King Henry VIII was declared Supreme Head of the Church in England, and the Society of Jesus was founded in the Crypt of Montmartre. “A more hidden force than this militant company [the Jesuits] and one just as vital to the ultimate success of Trent and all that Trent stood for, was the influence of the Florentine priest St Philip Neri (1515–95) who for forty years from his obscure room in Rome directed the salvation of the great world of the Curia.” (Mgr. Hughes Popular History of the Church”). Philip Neri played a notable part in the change from the worldly Renaissance court of Leo X. to the reformed baroque Rome of Clement VIII.

Philip Romulus Neri was born in Florence on 21st July 1515 and baptized in the famous baptistery He was the middle child of five born to Francesco Neri and Lucrezia da Mosciano. Both parents belonged to the middle class of poor gentry who for various reasons were less well off than their ancestors. Francesco Neri is said to have been a supporter of the Florentine republic and an admirer of the Dominican Friar Savonarola. He passed on his admiration to his son who was sent for his first lessons to the Dominican Fathers at San Marco where Fra Angelico had painted the cells with his gorgeous colours. In later life Philip used to say “all I have of good came to me from the Fathers of San Marco.” He had two sisters Caterina and Elisabetta who survived infancy. His mother died when he was five and the three children were brought up by their stepgrandmother who had a special affection for Philip. His father lived to be eighty-two and both his sisters married. One of his nieces, a nun, was present at his canonisation. Philip was known to his friends and acquaintances as “Pippo buono—good little Philip”—which means that he was thought to be good company and agreeable as well as morally good.

TO ROME

When he was about eighteen, probably in 1533, Philip left Florence and never saw any of his family again, though he wrote occasionally to his sisters. The decision to leave may have been partly the result of the fall of the republic the previous year, when Alexander de Medici was installed as hereditary Grand Duke. Francesco Neri may have been in financial and political difficulties.Philip was sent to his father’s cousin, Romolo Neri, usually referred to as Philip’s “uncle”, who was in business at San Germano, the modern Cassino, and who it was hoped would make him his heir since he had no children. As a parting gift Francesco Neri gave his son a genealogical table of his noble descent- which was promptly torn up. This shows that Philip had already decided against a career in the world, where such a document, especially in the sixteenth century, would have been useful. Despite his gesture of detachment Philip kept to his dying day a seal with his family coat of arms, three gold stars on an azure ground.

Philip’s “uncle” was ready to make him his heir but he did not stay long with him. Romolo Neri was apparently well enough off to offer his young kinsman a secure future, though he was not really wealthy. Bacci in his “Life” says that Philip visited the famous Montagna Spaccata at the port of Gaeta. There in the fissure of a rock said to have been split at the moment of the Crucifixion, with the waves beating below, is a chapel dedicated to the Holy Trinity. Perhaps it was here that Philip received the call which changed his whole life: he must go to Rome as a poor pilgrim, to visit the tombs of the Apostles and Martyrs and to seek the will of God. This is one of many times when Philip showed his sensitive response to the promptings of the Holy Spirit in prayer. No considerations of worldly prudence or human affection could make him change his mind.

He arrived in Rome in 1533 and never left the City for over sixty years. For the first year or two he lodged with a fellow countryman, Galleotto del Caccia, a customs official. Philip acted as tutor to his host’s two small sons, one of whom became rector of a church near Florence and the other a Carthusian monk. His diet consisted of some rolls baked at the public oven, a few olives and some salad with his bread and an occasional egg. He very rarely ate meat, his wine was liberally diluted and he usually drank plain water from the well of the house. He slept in a little attic where the furniture consisted of a bed and some books. He hung his clothes on a line; they were plain but never ostentatiously shabby and always clean and neat.

Philip enrolled at the Roman university where he studied the “humane sciences” and philosophy at the Sapienza, and theology at Sant” Agostino under the Augustinians. In later life Philip was able to discuss scholastic philosophy with learned men who were sometimes surprised by the range of his knowledge. It is recorded that he usually preferred to follow St Thomas Aquinas in disputed questions. After two or at the most three years of study he sold his books and gave the money to help poor students. There had been a large crucifix at Sant” Agostino which caused him to weep during the lectures. He decided to give himself to God in prayer.

Philip now became a familiar figure to the beggars who hung around the Roman churches. In order to find greater solitude he went out to the Catacombs of San Sebastian- the only ones known at that time-and often spent whole nights there in prayer among the tombs of the early Christians and martyrs. This semi-eremitical life in the middle of Rome lasted for about ten years from the age of twenty-three to thirty-three. By some secret instinct of sanctity, Philip Neri in Rome went to pray every night in the catacombs. The Congregation of the Oratory which he later founded was a return to the charity and simplicity of the early Christian communities. These years which Philip spent in the Catacombs gave the Congregation its future shape and spirit.

PENTECOSTAL FIRE

Just before Whitsun (Pentecost) probably in the year 1544 Philip while still a layman was praying to the Holy Ghost in the Catacomb of San Sebastian. Suddenly he seemed to see a globe of fire which entered his mouth and sank down into his heart. At the same time he felt a fire of love which seemed to be a positive physical heat so that he had to throw himself on the ground and bare his breast to cool it. When he rose he was seized with a violent trembling, accompanied by an extraordinary sense of joy, and putting his hand to his heart, felt there a swelling as big as a man’s fist. The details of this experience were confided by Philip in old age to his friend Cardinal Frederic Borromeo.

After Philip’s death the cause of this swelling was discovered by the doctors. His heart was enlarged and the first two “false” ribs [on the left side] had become detached from the cartileges which united them to the breast bone; at the point of fraction, the free ends, both ribs and cartileges, projected outwards towards the skin. A palpitation of the heart continued all his life when he was praying, speaking of divine things or administering the sacraments. The chair, bed or bench on which he was sitting would tremble and sometimes even the whole room. When he pressed his penitents to his heart they felt a wonderful consolation. Many found this a most effective way of being cured of temptations, especially against purity. As Mgr Knox says in a sermon “if St. Philip were suddenly to come into the room, one’s first instinct would be to run to his heart.” Benedict XIV who re-organised the rules for Canonisation decided that Philip’s enlarged heart was caused by an aneurism. Ponnelle and Bordet in their “Life” conclude that it was partly natural and partly supernatural. What is certain is that Philip himself and his penitents associated it with divine love. He was always reluctant to accept any supernatural phenomena either in himself or in others.

This experience of the Holy Ghost may have been the immediate preparation for his active apostolate. He now began to gather round him a circle of young men mainly drawn from the customs, banks and wine-bars, some of them no doubt Florentines like himself. Such was his winning manner that they did not resent being “preached at” by a layman. Indeed Philip never went in for that stern denouncing of vice or the gloomy prophecies of woe which were the stock-in-trade of street preachers, especially after the Sack of Rome in 1527. His was always a positive approach, showing the beauty of holiness, the attractiveness of virtue. One of his favourite greetings was “well, my brothers, when shall we begin to do good?” He soon discovered in himself an extraordinary power to influence other people. The young men followed his example in visiting the sick in the hospitals, making their beds, sweeping the floor, feeding them and speaking to them of the kingdom of God and their hope of heaven. This sort of work was of course necessary as well as edifying in 16th century Rome before the Welfare State provided a health service, and before the coming of nursing orders and special lay organisations such as the Society of St Vincent de Paul. Philip also encouraged many young men to join religious orders though he never showed any inclination to do so himself. According to tradition he knew St Ignatius of Loyola and sent the first Italian to join the new Society of Jesus.

In 1548 with the help of his confessor, Persiano Rosa, Philip founded the Confraternity of the Holy Trinity, whose purpose was both spiritual and practical. Members met for prayer at the church of San Salvatore in Campo where the devotion of the Forty Hours of Exposition of the Blessed Sacrament was first introduced into Rome. Even as a layman Philip seems to have been frequently to Holy Communion. His intense Eucharistic devotion links him not only with the Catholic reformers of his own day but also with Fr Charles de Foucauld, the 20th century hermit of the Sahara, and the Little Brothers of Jesus who do an hour’s meditation daily before the Blessed Sacrament.

PHILIP THE PRIEST

He was now becoming quite well known in Rome and his confessor told him that he ought to be a priest. With considerable reluctance Philip agreed to this and received all the Orders within three months. He was ordained priest on 23rd May 1551 in the church of San Tomaso in Parione, being then thirty-five years old.

He went to live at San Girolamo della Caritã, a small church opposite the English College, where St Jerome is said to have been visited by St Paula. Here he joined a community of priests to which his confessor already belonged and which was shortly to be headed by Buonsignore Cacciaguerra, a fervent promoter of frequent Communion. Philip now had a much wider field for his apostolate. He began at once to hear confessions, a work which was to occupy him for nearly forty-five years and was the main source of his influence. Like the Curé of Ars he had supernatural powers of clairvoyance so that he could read men’s hearts, tell their sins before they spoke and foretell the future. There are innumerable cases recorded in the Process of Canonisation, many of them too remarkable to have been invented. Before he became well known he used to make himself available for confessions from early morning until noon when he said Mass at a time when the church was almost empty so that his ecstatic devotion might be concealed as far as possible. Soon however penitents came in a never-ending stream which lasted until he died. Only extreme illness would make him give up this work. He said it was recreation for him even to sit in a confessional.

In ascetism Philip did not follow the extreme severity of the Desert Fathers, though he practised the traditional penance of the discipline on his flesh and lived very simply. He used to hold his fingers against his forehead and say that a man’s holiness lay in three fingers breadth. By this he meant that to discipline the intellect and will was much harder and more important than to discipline the body. He did not encourage others to use extreme forms of bodily mortification. One who asked him if he might wear a hair-shirt was told certainly, provided he wore it outside his clothes; he was called “Hair-shirt Bert” ever afterwards.

THE ORATORY

From about 1552 the year after his ordination Philip began to gather a few young men, at first about eight or ten, in his room after the midday meal. There they would talk of spiritual things in an informal way or read some spiritual book or life of a Saint. After the conversation they used to go for a walk together, perhaps to some church or convent, and some of them would go back again with Philip to San Girolamo for prayer in the evening. This is the real beginning of the Congregation of the Oratory. Many religious orders such as the Benedictines, Carmelites and Franciscans have Oblates or Tertiaries (Philip was a Franciscan Tertiary), Third Orders for people living in the world, who wish to associate themselves with the Order. They came later than the religious order to which they are attached. With the Oratory of St Philip however it is the other way round. It is the laymen whom Philip gathered round him who were the Oratory to start with. When their number became too great for his room he built an “Oratory,” i.e., place for prayer, under the roof of San Girolamo for the meetings. That is the origin of the name which by association was later applied both to the Congregation and its Church.

Philip’s influence in Rome began to spread far and wide. He drew men from all walks of life, rich, poor, learned and simple. Stefano the shoemaker is one of the earliest whose name has come down to us. Within a few years he had some important friends and penitents including Prospero Crivelli, a banker, Gianbattista Salviati, a cousin of Catherine de Medici, Queen of France, and Anna Borromeo, sister of St Charles Borromeo. Above all there were Francesco Tarugi, and Caesar Baronius, both future members of the Congregation and later Cardinals. Through Tarugi, who was related to two Popes, Philip’s influence penetrated into the Papal Court.

By 1557 Philip often went about Rome accompanied by a large number of clerics and laymen. Pope Paul IV, who set up the Inquisition in Rome, was suspicious of the Oratory because of Philip’s connection with Marcantonio Colonna who was second in command of the Spanish army, then in the neighbourhood of Rome. Philip and twenty of his followers inspired by the example of St Francis Xavier were ready to offer themselves as missionaries and go to the East. He consulted the Cistercian monk Vincenzo Ghettini at the monastery of Tre Fontane where St Paul was beheaded. The reply was the famous words: “Rome is to be your Indies.” His task was to re-convert Christians to Christianity.

SACRED MUSIC

The meetings at San Girolamo now assumed a more definite form with hymns, prayer and discourse. Laymen, especially Tarugi, preached informal sermons “on the book”—that is, taking a passage from scripture or some spiritual book or life of a Saint and then enlarging on it, explaining it and drawing some practical lesson from it. Church History was covered by Baronius who later published his work in the many volumes of the “Ecclesiastical Annals”. On feast days they went on a sort of religious picnic with singers and musicians to assist their devotions. Music played an important part in the Oratory from the beginning. Philip had a high opinion of its power to raise men’s hearts and minds to God. Anerio, Animuccia, and the great Palestrina were three composers associated with Philip; the latter is said to have been his penitent for a time. Later on Victoria stayed at the Chiesa Nuova before returning to Spain. The Pilgrimage of the Seven Churches at Carnival time before Lent and during Holy Week sometimes drew as many as two thousand people. This Pilgrimage which Philip either began or promoted starts at St Peter’s in the evening and ends at St. Mary Major the following day. It has continued intermittently down to the present day, until modern traffic conditions became too difficult for pedestrians.

In 1559 another storm of opposition was raised against the Oratory. The Cardinal-Vicar summoned Philip before him, suspended his faculties to hear confessions for a fortnight and forbade the exercises at the Oratory and the pilgrimage of the Seven Churches. He was accused of being an ambitious man who wanted to make a name for himself or start a new sect. His name was soon cleared by a Commission and his work was allowed to continue.

TRIALS

When the Florentines needed a new Rector for their national church they asked Philip to take charge of it. He refused but was forced to accept by a command of Pius IV, himself a Medici. Five of his disciples were ordained priest and went to St John’s, though Philip continued to live at San Girolamo. At St John’s the Congregation of the Oratory gradually evolvedwithout any conscious design on Philip’s part. They had a rule of life and customs arose which later became part of the rule. Every day they went to San Girolamo until after ten years an Oratory was built for them at St John’s and the exercises were transferred to it.

Under the next Pope, St Pius V, there was a third crisis for the Oratory and some danger of the work being suppressed. Two Dominicans sent to listen to the sermons at the Oratory reported favourably and the danger was removed. The next Pope,Gregory XIII, was a personal friend of Philip’s and under him the Oratory was formally established. A disturbing incident at St John’s finally convinced Philip that the Congregation ought to have a church and house of its own in order to be independent. The Pope gave them Santa Maria in Vallicella (St Mary’s in the valley) and on 15th July, 1575 published a Brief setting up there a congregation of clerics and laymen living in Community without vows. The small church was soon pulled down and the large and beautiful one built on the site is called even today the Chiesa Nuova, the “new Church” (like New College at Oxford).

Philip remained at San Girolamo until 1583 when the Pope ordered him to join his sons at the Vallicella. The new church was opened in 1577, the Pope himself, St Charles Borromeo, Cardinals and Bishops all contributing to the expense of the building, as well as innumerable poor people.

During his last years Philip was given permission to say Mass in a little chapel next to his room. When he came to the “Domine non sum dignus”, those in the chapel withdrew, the server put out the candles and lighted a lamp and went out leaving the Saint alone with God. After two hours he would come back and knock on the door. If the Saint answered he came in, lighted the candles, and Philip finished the Mass in the usual way.

MIRACLES

The miracles and cures he worked seemed almost incessant. They included one case of temporarily restoring to life, Paolo, the son of his friend Fabrizio de Massimi in the presence of his family. In his humility Philip told Baronius that he had asked God not to work these wonders through him. He always made light of these things and did not regard them as necessary signs of holiness either in himself or others. Similarly he did not want to be regarded as the founder of the Oratory. He said the Holy Ghost was its real founder. Despite his denials, Philip did found a new Congregation in the Church, absolutely unique in its constitution, the free and democratic element perhaps owing something to his youthful admiration for the Florentine republic. This has developed into the Confederation of the Oratory, about sixty autonomous self-governing houses in many countries with the minimum of central organisation.

Philip himself had an indirect connection with England. He would often meet the students of the English College in the streets and greet them with the first line of the hymn ofthe Holy Innocents “Hail, budding Martyrs.” Tradition says that they would go and ask his blessing before returning to England and probable martyrdom.

St Philip’s love for Our Lady, the Mother of God, was remarkable even among the great saints of his time. He often spent whole nights talking to her-a fact which emerged when he was ill and thought no one was listening to him. He used to tell his sons “Be devout to Mary. . . . . . believe me when I say there is no surer way of obtaining graces from God than the most holy Madonna.” One of his favourite prayers was a short version of the Hail Mary, “Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray to Jesus for me” or just “Virgin and Mother.” Our Lady appeared to him in a vision and cured him of a serious illness in 1594.

He was ill again in the following year and said his last Mass on 25th May, the feast of Corpus Christi. When he reached the Gloria he sang it all through, something which, says Bacci, was most unusual with him. He went to bed that night apparently in good health but he himself seems to have known exactly when he would die. In the early hours of 26th May he had a severe haemorrhage and died peacefully sitting on his bed surrounded by his sons. He is buried under the altar in his chapel in the Chiesa Nuova, and was canonised with Ignatius Loyola, Francis Xavier, Isidore the farmer and Teresa of Avila, on 12th March 1622.

What sort of man was Philip Neri? No artist ever succeeded in catching the expression of his eyes, though both Guido Reni and Francisco Guercino, neither of them working from life, have shown us something of his beautiful hands which in old age were almost transparent like alabaster and gave out a supernatural perfume. The spirit so possessed his body that he was able to smell sin, especially sins of the flesh. He was of medium height, well made and active, latterly with white hair and beard, with clear forehead and straight nose. A Florentine of the high Renaissance, Philip moved with unselfconscious ease in a world of great art- the world of Michelangelo and Palestrina. He was convinced that holiness was within the reach of busy men and women, married or single, living active lives in a city. His means to this end were the simple ones of prayer, spiritual reading, frequent confession and communion, listening to informal sermons and sacred music. He introduced the practice of prayer into many of the leading families of Rome and led many of his penitents to the heights of holiness. As Meriol Trevor points out in her “Life”, many of the Protestant reformers were ex-religious, whereas a good number of the Catholic reformers were formerly men of the world such as Francesco Tarugi. Philip would not have been in the slightest bit surprised at a stockbroker becoming a priest: he who reformed the Roman Curia would know that sanctity could flourish on the Stock Exchange. He had something of the spirit of a Desert Father in the midst of Renaissance Rome: a hermit who, as he told one of his penitents, had never left the world. With him the spirit of detachment went hand in hand with complete involvement.

PATRON OF CHRISTIAN JOY

Cardinal Newman who brought the Oratory to England in 1848 calls Philip “man of primitive times”. One might also call him “man of the Holy Ghost” or “patron of Christian joy”. The two really go together since Philip’s own temperament seems to have been changed and moulded by prayer. As a boy he appears to have been rather seriousminded, the later outburst of joy must be attributed directly to the Holy Ghost who never seems to have left him in those moods of dryness and aridity experienced by so many mystics. Many of his famous jokes were partly designed to conceal his holiness from casual observers. He would go about with half his beard shaved off or dance in public, or have a funny book read to him when some important Polish nobles came to visit “the Saint”. Where ordinary priests need to concentrate before saying Mass, Philip sometimes needed jokes in order to moderate his almost uncontrollable absorption in God.

His direction of others aimed at undermining pride and self-importance -Renaissance vices which flourish in every age-and leaving them free, humble, mature and obedient to the Holy Ghost. As Father Faber says “he had a keen appreciation of the growing subjectivity of the modern mind” and knew how to deal with it. He had a marked preference for people with a happy disposition and even went so far as to say that they had a better chance than others of getting to heaven. His purely spiritual methods did more to revive religion in the capital of Christendom than the measures of Paul IV. St. Philip Neri has his niche in St. Peter’s as the founder of the Oratory and his place in Church history as the Apostle of Rome.

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Saint Philomena

THE LITTLE WONDER-WORKER OF THE TWENTIETH CENTURY

INDEX

A NOVENA IN HONOUR OF ST. PHILOMENA

O Glorious Virgin and Martyr, beloved child of God, blessed Philomena! I rejoice in thy glory, and give God thanks, that He has bestowed on thee such power, for the glory of His Name, for the edification of His Church, and to honour thy merits in life, and thy sufferings and martyrdom in death. Looking up to thee in heaven, I rejoice to see thee so exalted, so powerful, so generous. I congratulate thee on having been so faithful to the precepts and counsels of Jesus Christ, while on earth, and on being so munificently rewarded by Him in heaven. Moved by thine example to the practice of solid virtue, filled with hope at the view of the rewards bestowed upon thee, I resolve to imitate thee in the avoidance of all evil, and in the fulfilment of God’s Holy Will. Assist me, O glorious little Saint, by thy powerful intercession, and obtain especially for me perfect purity-invincible fortitude in all trials, temptations, and sufferings-generosity which refuses nothing to God-and love stronger than death for the one true Faith-a ready and willing obedience to the Holy Roman Catholic Church and to our Sovereign Pontiff, the common father of all the Faithful, the pastor of pastors and of their flocks, and vice-regent of Jesus Christ, throughout the world.

Besides these favours which I have now asked through thy powerful intercession, O blessed Philomena! I also ask an additional grace and favour, which I have the fullest confidence of obtaining through thy powerful intercession. (Here mention the graces and favour)

Surely God, Who is so good, and for Whom thou hast given up thy life -God Who is so good, and Who has bestowed so many gifts and favours upon and through thee-God Who is so good as to have died for me, and to give Himself to me in Holy Communion-God Who is so good as to have revealed the burning love of His Sacred Heart for me, surely He will not refuse to hearken graciously to thy prayers, to my supplications, and even to His own desire to help the afflicted. For this do I hope, while I put all my confidence in God and in thee, O Blessed Philomena! Amen.

O Jesus, grant me grace to love Thee and to make others love Thee. O Mary, my tender Mother, obtain for me a great love for Thy Divine Son, Jesus. Holy St. Joseph, bless me and intercede for me. St. Philomena, pray for me. Amen.

I

For close on a hundred years the name of St. Philomena has been accorded in the Church a veneration which, growing intensified by the number of miracles vouchsafed through her intercession, has spread over the whole world. Previous to the discovery of her tomb and relics in the Catacomb of St. Priscilla, outside the walls of Rome, in the year 1802, her name had found no place in sacred story.

Hence what can be authoritatively written regarding this wonder-working little saint of the nineteenth century is more a narrative of the extraordinary chain of miracles associated with her intercession than the recital of facts relating to her life. There is, however, a pious tradition that she was a child-martyr and a contemporary of St. Sebastian, who suffered in the reign of the Emperor Diocletian about the year of our Lord 286. Some holy souls who were devoutly interested in promoting devotion to the saint, some years after the translation of her relics, are said to have been favoured with revelations, in which Philomena made known to them the circumstances under which she shed her blood for Christ. According to this evidence she was thirteen years of age at the time of her martyrdom, and her relics bear testimony that she could scarcely have been older. In these pages, however, we shall confine ourselves to the facts attendant on the discovery of her tomb and to subsequent wonders which have surrounded her memory with a blessed immortality.

The Catacombs of Rome have long, been centres of Christian interest and veneration. Until a century ago their origin was a subject of controversy and speculation among learned writers. Now their conflicting theories are set at rest. It is fully accepted by archeologists and historians that these subterranean passages were the secret hiding-places of the primitive Christians, and later on, became the resting-places of their dead. When, after the early persecutions, peace and liberty were restored to the Church, these cemeteries, which enclosed the remains of so many martyrs-and were sacred to the sufferings and trials of generations of the faithful-became places of devotion and of great resort. Each of them came to be associated with the names of eminent martyred saints, at whose tombs the Divine mysteries were frequently offered up. As time went on and the desire of obtaining relics of the saints spread throughout the universal Church, the tombs of the Catacombs, with permission of the Holy See, supplied these treasures so jealously regarded as the precious inheritance of the altars of Christendom. Yet the exercise of this privilege of procuring from the Catacombs memorials of the saints and martyrs left the tomb and relies of St. Philomena unnoticed and undisturbed, until it pleased Almighty God to reveal this young virgin-martyr to the world as one of the heavenly wonder-workers of the nineteenth century.

The Catacomb of St. Priscilla lies beneath the Via Salaria Nova. Here, in the Pontificate of Pius VII., a remarkable slab attracted the custodians of the cemetery, who were then prosecuting investigations there, and on the 25th of May, 1802, the tomb was formally examined. On the tiles that enclosed it, the following inscription was read:”PHILOMENA PAX TECUM.”

The devices which were interwoven with these simple words -an anchor, an arrow, and a palm- determined the spot as the last resting-place of a martyr. The tomb was opened by Monsignor Ludovici, who disclosed to the gaze of his assistants and bystanders the precious remains. Beside them stood the phial containing the blood of the saint. An examination of the relics having been made, it was ascertained that Philomena had been martyred in her tender youth, at about twelve or thirteen years of age, scarcely more. The relics were then fervently removed to the Custodia, and deposited among the relics of the other servants of God, to await the decision of the Vicar of Jesus Christ as to where they should finally rest as objects of the veneration of the faithful. The tiles bearing the simple inscription were for a time placed in the college of the Jesuits at Rome. Later on they were transferred to the Museum of Antiquities at the Vatican. However, in 1827, they were bestowed on the Church of Mugnano, which was destined, through the possession of the relics of our saint, to become one of the most honoured shrines in the Christian world.

During three years which followed, the relics of St. Philomena lay in the Custodia, unnoticed and undisturbed, almost as they had lain for fifteen hundred years in the silence of the Catacombs.

In the summer of 1805 the Bishop-Elect of Potenza came to Rome to receive his consecration.

His companion was a saintly priest of Mugnano- Don Francesco di Lucia-who availed of his visit to the Eternal City to seek the possession of the body of a saint for his private chapel. Accordingly he asked permission to visit the treasury of sacred relics. Complying with his desire, the guardian, Mgr. Ponzetti, offered the holy priest his choice, to the great delight of the latter. None of the caskets bore the names of the saints whose bodies they enclosed, except three. Amongst these was that of St. Philomena.

As the priest stood before this reliquary he felt his soul filled with an indescribable feeling of spiritual joy, and at once he petitioned to have the relics. A few days afterwards, however, the guardian of the Custodia retracted the permission he had given, stating reasonably that the saints of well-ascertained names were so few, that they ought to be reserved for Bishops and Catholic princes.

The Bishop of Potenza, however, intervened on behalf of his anxious companion, saying he felt convinced the saint wished her to go to his parish of Mugnano, and would bless the place with miracles. And so the request was at length granted. From that day commenced the long succession of wonders which have since made the name of Philomena illustrious over the world.

Don Francesco fell ill during his visit to Rome, and, sinking under a virulent attack of fever, made a vow to St. Philomena that if his health were restored, he would choose her for his patron. Instantly the malady subsided, and he was restored to perfect health. On his telling the Bishop of the miracle both returned thanks to God, promising to carry the bones of the saint to Naples with all possible honour.

They set out shortly afterwards, end reached Naples on the 2nd of July, 1805. There the casket was deposited in the private chapel of Don Antonio Terres-a wealthy citizen of the place. The relics were opened by ecclesiastical authority, and the bones arranged in a lifelike-size figure in papier-mache, and enclosed in an outer case of ebony, which was duly sealed in four places. Donna Angela Terres, the wife of Don Antonio was deputed to dress and adorn the figure, and was rewarded by the Saint for her devotion by being immediately healed of a malignant malady, from which she had been suffering for twelve years. Marvellous, too, during the dressing, many changes were observed in the countenance of the figure, while the virginal remains exhaled a sweet perfume. During three days the body was exposed in the church of St. Angelo. A great concourse of the faithful visited the shrine, but as no miracle took place it was believed to be an indication of the saint’s wish not to remain in that city. Again, the relics were brought from the church to the house of Terres, and here again miraculous cures began to be vouchsafed. Amongst them was that of a lady suffering from gangrene in the hand which her physician had decided on amputating. A small portion of the sacred relics which had been presented to the Terres family was applied to the suffering hand. That night the patient slept, and in the morning the surgeons found that the gangrene had disappeared.

In another case-a lawyer, who for six months had been bed-ridden from sciatica, had himself carried to the house where the body of Philomena lay, and while he prayed to the holy Martyr, was completely cured.

The Bishop of Potenza and Don Francesco now determined to proceed on their journey to Mugnano. The month of August was fixed for their departure from Maples, two carriers being summoned from Mugnano to convey the saint. The grief of Donna Angela on parting with the venerable remains was so great that she would scarcely allow them to be removed. Don Francesco, to console her, presented her with the key of the casket, saying, “I leave you this. Henceforward you and your family shall be the owners of the holy body. I will be only its guardian.”

As the procession moved on its way, its course was marked by many miracles. When night set in, a column of light descended and rested on the relics, illuminating the path by which the bearers passed as they drew near to Cimitile, a suburb of Nola. Here the burden grew so heavy that the bearers declared they could carry it no further. On hearing this, Don Francesco feared that the saint desired to remain at Cimitile, a place sacred to the martyrdom of many saints. He immediately despatched one of the carriers, who had come with him from Naples, to Mugnano to secure additional bearers, meanwhile urging on the others to move the case, at least a little further, on the way. With great difficulty they succeeded in transporting it; but as they receded from Cimitile their burden became lighter and lighter, and soon was so easily borne that the bearers began to cry out with joy, “a miracle! a miracle! The saint has once more become as light as she was at Naples!”

At Mugnano, on the eve of the arrival, the bells of all the churches were rung, and cannon were fired in honour of the advent of the relics. The inhabitants made their first petition to the saint by asking, through her intercession, that the longcontinued drought from which their crops suffered, might come to an end. The sound of the bells from the church towers had scarcely ceased when rain fell in copious torrents. At sunrise, the procession entered Mugnano. The joyful inhabitants turned out in vast multitudes with olive branches in their hands to welcome the youthful martyr-and the little children as they saw the case ofrelics dressed with flowers, filled the air with the cries of “Viva la Santa! Viva la Santa! Hail to the saint!”

During the course of the procession to the church of Santa Maria delle Grazie-which occupied two hours-many manifestations of the power of the saint were witnessed.

Although the day was serene and beautiful at one time a whirlwind arose, and yet not a single one of the lights which were carried before the Shrine of Philomena was extinguished.

The body of the saint was placed under a splendid canopy at the Gospel side of the principal altar, where High Mass was celebrated. That day—the 10th of August-was observed as a feast day of obligation, and the spiritual rejoicings lasted over many weeks.

The numerous wonders which immediately began to be wrought at this Shrine induced Don Francesco to renounce his long-cherished intention of keeping the relics in his private chapel. After a short time he bestowed them on the church of Santa Maria delle Grazie.

Here a side chapel was prepared to receive them, and an altar erected, beneath which they were henceforth to rest for public veneration.

On the feast of St. Michael the Archangel, September 26th, 1805, after the celebration of High Mass, the relics were carried in procession, and solemnly deposited in their appointed place.

Mass was again chanted at the new altar, and thus ended the translation of the relics of St. Philomena.

II

The story of the Shrine of St. Philomena, and of the remarkable manifestations associated with it, possesses an unique interest among narratives of the kind. Much of it might, indeed, be difficult to accept without question, were not the authority in its support so strong.

The first in time, of the favours we shall record, is assigned to a date shortly after the translation of the relics of the saint to Mugnano.

While at Naples, as we may remember, the bones of the Virgin-Martyr were placed within a figure of childlike form, which was enclosed in an ebony casket. The casket being of small dimensions, the figure, though not larger than a child of about eight years of age, had to be placed in a cramped and ungraceful position.

One morning, however, shortly after the arrival of the saint within the chapel of Mugnano, to the amazement of some clients who had come to pay their homage at her shrine, the figure was found to have changed its attitude and whole appearance. Originally it had lain fiat within the case, the effect aimed at in its arrangement being that of the repose of death. Now the representation of the saint had mysteriously assumed a half sitting posture-full of majesty and grace- the face being turned towards the spectators. The hands too had changed their position, the arrow, the emblem of martyrdom, which had been placed in one of them, being reversed-in a word, the whole figure had become different. But the most striking marvel of the transformation was that the countenance no longer continued the same. The artist, by whom the figure had originally been designed, at Naples, had done his work hastily, and the features, imperfectly modelled, had been coloured to represent the pallor of a corpse. All these defects now disappeared, and an expression of great beauty took their place, while the colourless hue, which the face had hitherto presented, changed into a soft life-like complexion.

And all the while, the four seals which had been attached to the casket by the Bishop of Potenza were intact, and the glass which surrounded it could not have been removed. The rumour of this occurrence, having quickly spread abroad, soon reached Naples. On hearing of the marvellous event, the members of the Terres family, by whom the figure of St. Philomena had been at first dressed, accompanied by the artist who had designed and painted it, together with some others, set out for Mugnano. It was beyond doubt that the key of the reliquary, which the Signora Terres, the custodian, held, had never left her possession, and yet, all attested that in no way was the attitude or appearance of the martyr like what it had been when the relics had left their home in Naples.

Further changes were subsequently, from time to time, observed in the position of the miraculous figure. Thus, some years after, when the garments in which the saint was clothed began to look worn and faded, another extraordinary circumstance occurred. The stitched seams loosened of themselves. The rich trimmings and accessories became detached, till at length, little by little, the whole vesture became disordered and scattered! The final and complete disarrangement of the exterior of the little figure took place about the Feast of Pentecost, 1824, when Don Francesco decided on having the relics arrayed in a new and costly attire, and also to provide a larger and more elegant shrine to receive them. Previous to the opening of the old reliquary, it was observed that the silken hair on the head of the saint had become sparse and scanty. As the date fixed for the translation of the relics was close at hand, no time remained to procure fresh silken hair. Then another wonder took place. An abundance of flowing tresses made their appearance before the beginning of the ceremony, which was carried out with great devotion and splendour by the Archbishop and his suite, in presence of the Vicar-General of the diocese, on July 5th, 1824.

Some time after the occurrence of this prodigy, this silken hair, which had been of a chestnut shade, suddenly turned to a deep black. At the same time the flowing tresses grew to such length, that it became necessary to open the case to rearrange them over the shoulders. In 1833, nine years after the second dressing of the figure, the hair was found to have grown twenty-seven inches. Soon again a further development manifested itself. Another and larger shrine was deemed insufficient owing to the increased proportions of the wondrous figure of the occupant. A new receptacle was, therefore, again procured. On this occasion, Monsignor Cupola, Bishop of Vola, whose veneration for St. Philomena bordered almost on enthusiasm, came to Mugnano, to place, as an offering, a rich crown of silver on her head. On this occasion a similar miracle again took place. On the 27th of September, 1828, Cardinal Ruffo Scilla, Archbishop of Naples, opened the shrine, and removed the relics to the beautiful and spacious case where they have since rested. From the appearance of a child of tender years, as our saint was first represented, she had now grown to bear the appearance of a beautiful maiden of twenty.

When the Cardinal Archbishop of Naples, in fulfilment of a vow, came to Mugnano for a fifth time, he declared after he had celebrated Mass, in presence of the Shrine, that since he had sealed the reliquary, six months before, the holy form of the saint had changed anew its appearance.

Miraculous manifestations after that time became so frequent as to be regarded as a matter of course. Sometimes the countenance lost its habitual brightness of expression and became overcast and sad. The lips too of the saint were seen at times to move as if in prayer, in union with the supplications of her clients.

During the celebrations of the annual festival in 1847, among the vast congregation was a poor blind man who was fervently imploring the saint to procure for him the recovery of his sight. Suddenly the whole body was seen to move, turning on its side to face the congregation. This event was attested by numerous witnesses, and after careful inquiries solemnly published. This attestation concludes as follows:- “We can testify that similar changes are continually occurring-either the opening of the eyes, the movements of the lips, or, varied expressions of the countenance which sometimes appears pale and sad, sometimes pleased and bright. . . . He who will not believe what is stated, should himself repair to the sanctuary, where, he will see with his own eyes how God glorifies His saints.”

After so many extraordinary evidences of the miraculous power of St. Philomena one can scarcely wonder at the astonishing rapidity with which devotion to her was spread throughout the whole world.

Nevertheless the solemn approbation of the Church was not bestowed upon the devotion to St. . Philomena till long after the dates of the incidents we have been recording. That prudent circumspection which at all times rules the decisions of the Holy See, demanded a long and mature consideration of the novel and marvellous circumstances which made up the history of the miracles of the saint. Although the pastors and laity of almost every diocese in Italy had more than once petitioned the Holy Father to authorize the public veneration of St. Philomena, she was not raised to the altars of the Church till the year 1837. The promulgation by the Supreme Pontiff of the decree so long sought for was mainly due to a miracle worked by the saint on Pauline Marie Jaricot, friend of the Cure d”Ars, and foundress of the Association for the Propagation of the Faith, and of the devotion of the “Living Rosary.”

About the year 1819, some Brothers of St. John of God, who were seeking to revive their once famous order for the care of incurables, travelled through Brittany to the South of France, relating as they went along, the wonders they had witnessed at the shrine of Mugnano. At Lyons, the Brothers called on the Jaricot family, whose members were inspired with such enthusiasm at the recital of the miracles of the saint that they were filled with a great desire to possess a portion of her relics. The pious wish was eventually gratified, and among the blessings of which this family became the instrument in the hands of Providence, not the least remarkable was the promoting of devotion to St. Philomena.

In the year 1834 Pauline Marie Jaricot was stricken, beyond all hopes of recovery, with an aggravated form of heart disease. Various other sufferings of a complicated nature increased the intensity of the malady, which, in addition to its dreadful uncertainty, furnished symptoms of a quickly approaching dissolution. During the whole year Pauline describes her condition as one of continued agony, save during some few moments of passing relief which she attributed to prayers offered for her by some devoted friends.

The first amelioration of her sad condition that she experienced occurred at the close of a Novena offered on her behalf to St. Philomena. The complete prostration, which had deprived her of the use of her limbs, slightly subsided, and great was her joy at being able, unaided, to move even a little.

Day by day the improvement continued, and with the happy and wondrous change she became filled with a longing to visit, in thanksgiving, the shrine of the Sacred Heart at Paray-le-Monial.

Inspired with this thought, she redoubled her anxious pleadings to St. Philomena. Having made known her wish to the members of her family, they in turn mentioned the matter to her physician, who, while admitting the slight improvement as inexplicable, looked upon her project as merely visionary. At length her entreaties overcame his reluctance, and he consented to her departure, prophesying, however, that she would never reach the first stage of the journey, and that the return would be a funeral. Her confidence in God, however, grew stronger as the time approached at which she had, determined to risk the perilous venture.

Contrary to the expectations of those who charitably accompanied her, Pauline reached Paray in safety. Her first visit to the chapel of the Monastery of the Visitation filled her with joy and holy consolation, and gave her a degree of vigour which astonished her companions.

Another and still greater surprise was theirs, when the poor invalid made known her decision to proceed from Paray to Rome, there to seek the blessing of the Vicar of Christ.

To make this journey had, indeed, been with her a life-long dream, but in the face of her excessive weakness, her friends were terrified at her determination. Filled with trust in God she carried her point against their fears. It was a tedious journey, accomplished in very easy and short stages, and so the little strength she had regained did not fail her. Visiting on the way the shrines of Chambery and Loreto, she reached the Eternal City, and was warmly received at the Convent of the Sacred Heart, the Trinita de Monte. The fame of the two great works she had inaugurated for the glory of the Church had preceded her, while the sight of her great sufferings won for her the sympathy of all.

Although Pauline had realized her wish to visit Rome, her prostrate condition still forbade her undergoing the fatiguing ceremonial of an audience with the Holy Father. But the paternal kindness of Gregory XVI., furnished a solution for this difficulty. Having heard of Pauline’s arrival, he deigned to thank her in person for the benefits the Church owed her, and he came on two occasions to visit her at Trinita de Monte. Like others, the Holy Father deemed her condition hopeless. In one of his visits he asked her to pray for him, when she should get into heaven. Pauline replied, “Yes, most certainly Holy Father, I promise to do so, but if I visit the shrine of Mugnano, and then return on foot to the Vatican, will your Holiness deign to proceed with the definite examination of the cause of Philomena.” “Yes, my child,” replied the Pope, “for that would indeed be a miracle of the first class.”

With unwavering courage the heroic girl proceeded from Rome to Mugnano, which she reached August 8th, 1835. Her diary, which lies before us, furnishes a thrilling illustration of the reward which God vouchsafes to grant to the faith of those who seek His mercies through the intercession of His saints. The celebration of the solemn festival of St. Philomena had just commenced. Two days later, that is to say on the actual feast day, Pauline was carried to the church. At the moment of receiving Holy Communion, she experienced a fearful anguish in her whole frame. Her heart throbbed, as though it would burst. Overcome by the intensity of her suffering, she swooned away, and .a death-like pallor overspread her countenance. To all appearance life seemed extinct. The bystanders terrified at what they witnessed, were about to bear her away in the chair wherein she lay. Consciousness, however, soon returned, and the poor sufferer feebly signified her wish to remain. A few moments later the dimmed eyes, already glazed with the film of death, began to shed copious tears-colour returned to the pallid cheeks-Pauline Marie Jaricot was cured!

An outburst of jubilation followed the miracle. Unrestrained enthusiasm, within and outside the church prevailed. The air resounded with the cry “Viva Santa Filomena! Viva the holy French lady!”

Two months later full of health and strength, the restored client of St. Philomena presented herself at the feet of Gregory XVI., in the great hall of the Vatican. Filled with surprise the Holy Father exclaimed: “Is this, indeed, my dear child? Has she risen from the tomb, or, has God shown in her the power of the Virgin Martyr?” “Yes,” replied Pauline, “I am the person whom your Holiness saw at the point of death two months ago, and since St. Philomena has restored me to health, grant me permission to fulfil a vow which I have made, to erect a church in honour of my benefactress.”

Having received a detailed account of Pauline’s visit to the shrine of Mugnano and the circumstances of her wonderful cure, the Pope promised to proceed at once to the examination of the “cause” of the saint.

Within a year after the departure of Mademoiselle Jaricot from her house, she returned to Lyons where her restoration to perfect health was regarded as an undoubted miracle. When she repaired on foot to the church of Notre Dame de Fourvieres, pious crowds followed her and joined her in hymns of praise and thanksgiving at the shrine of our Blessed Lady.

Later on, the grateful child of St. Philomena fulfilled her vow by building a beautiful chapel dedicated to her patroness on the slope that leads up to the Basilica of Notre Dame. No sacrifice or trouble was henceforth considered too great by Pauline in spreading devotion to the Holy Martyr. She promoted it, together with the other pious associations which, through her efforts, had already gained ground in the Church. In one of her letters she tells us-that, when in company with her-the representatives of the “Living Rosary,” prostrated themselves at the feet of Gregory XVI., supreme Pontiff imparted a special blessing to their association, and commended them and their work to the protection of St. Philomena. And on the occasion of Pauline’s last presentation at the Vatican His Holiness renewed this commendation, saying:- “Pray to St. Philomena-whatever you ask from her she will obtain for you.”

The miracles wrought at the chapel at Lyons became almost as numerous and remarkable as the favours vouchsafed at the Shrine of Mugnano, and, at the present day, the devotion of the citizens to the saint manifests itself with extraordinary fervour.

It was at Lyons that the cure of Mademoiselle Le Clerc took place. This pious lady had been a hopeless invalid for eight years, having totally lost the use of her limbs. Through the intercession of St. Philomena she was miraculously restored. The miracle wrought in her behalf was attested by the Bishop of Belley, the Mayor of Ambrieux, and twentyfour physicians. Returning to her home at Roussillon she built a chapel in honour of the little wonder-working saint.

Between Pauline Jaricot and the Venerable Curé of d”Ars, a friendship of the holiest kind long existed She impressed this holy priest with such veneration for her favourite saint that he became an ardent promoter of devotion to St. Philomena. To her advocacy he attributed many marvellous graces and favours, which are recorded in the story of his life. Having erected a shrine containing a portion of the saint’s relics in his church, cures of earthly ills and extraordinary conversions of obdurate hearts were witnessed in this holy spot. The oil that burned before the altar became a source of miraculous healing, while the innumerable ex voto tributes of gratitude that line the walls of the little sanctuary, bear witness to the veneration and love in which she is held at the present day. To the zeal and sanctity of the Curé of Are may be ascribed, in great measure, the rapid and universal spread of devotion to St. Philomena throughout France. Medals and other memorials of the Virgin-Martyr distributed by him were fruitful of many miracles. The story of the extinction of a fire at his house (caused by the agency of the devil) through the presence of a statue of St. Philomena, will be remembered by many readers of Monsieur Vianney’s life.

During the last thirty years, France has, so to speak, been covered, with votive churches to our saint, while the three festivals-the 10th of August, the 25th of May, and the Sunday within the octave of the Ascension-are preceded by novenas and observed with great devotion and solemnity. The limits of these pages prevent our noticing the myriads of graces and favours showered on the faithful of France by St. Philomena.

Among the clients of the martyr, whose special holiness has distinguished them in the annals of this century may be named-Pére Varin, one of the restorers of the Society of Jesus in France; Venerable Mother Barat, foundress of the Congregation of the Sacred Heart; Madame d”Houet, foundress of the Faithful Companions of Jesus and Mary; Pere Eymart, founder of the Priests of the Most Holy Sacrament.

In the year 1835, the devotion to the saint was introduced into Paris, where, ever since it has found an abiding centre. A parishioner of St. Gervais, having obtained a miraculous favour through the intercession of St. Philomena, presented to the church some relics which he had received from Mademoiselle Jaricot, together with a picture of the saint. Shortly afterwards a side chapel was dedicated to her honour, St. Gervais is now a place of frequent pilgrimages, while the display of ex voto offerings and tablets rivals that of the mother-shrine at Mugnano. Those who have visited Paris will remember the position of the Church of St. Gervais, close to the Hotel de Ville. This quarter of the city was the unhappy scene of the worst excesses of the Communists in 1870. The Hotel de Ville, as many of us recollect, was then reduced to ashes, while churches on every side were desecrated and profaned during those days of anarchy. Strange to say, although preparations had been made by the Communists to set fire to St. Gervais and sack its treasury, by some mysterious intervention the impious purpose was never carried out. And while the Prussian shells wrought pitiless havoc over the whole city, the church of St. Gervais and the house of the parish priest escaped injury. The priests attached to the church never forsook their posts, yet not one of them was arrested, nor did they suffer any loss in the midst of general ruin and pillage.

In recognition of this preservation, thirteen lamps commemorative of the thirteen childhood years of St. Philomena, perpetually burn before her altar, and the oil in them is deemed to possess healing powers. An Association of prayer, under her invocation, in the Church of St. Gervais has been raised to the dignity of an Arch-confraternity by our present Holy Father Leo XIII.

Let us now return to the shrine at Mugnano. The present beautiful church, surmounted by its dome and towers, was undertaken in 1853, and completed three years later. Its great attraction is the chapel containing the relics of St. Philomena. A profusion of the finest marbles, mingled with agate and porphyry, cover the walls from floor to ceiling. Stately columns, supporting Corinthian capitols of white marble, impart an appearance of chaste splendour to the whole interior. Over the white marble altar stands the case containing the relics, revealing the figure of the saint, half sitting, half reclining on her couch, radiant in jewels and costly attire. Above is the familiar picture of our Lady of Good Counsel. At the opposite side of the nave is an altar, on which rests the reliquary containing the phial of the martyr’s blood. This exquisite casket was the gift of Marie Thèrese, Queen of Naples. It is entirely composed of silver, and through an aperture filled with glass, the sacred relic may be easily seen. The generosity of faithful hearts, in happier times, bestowed vast endowments, and estates on this church of St. Philomena, and thus provided for the relief of the poor and the advancement of other meritorious works. But, alas! the sacrilegious hands of the usurper have confiscated all.

The constant stream of pilgrims has, however, never ceased. Old and young, rich and poor of all nationalities, assemble there, and bring away with them graces untold, and a deep sense of the power of God through the efficacy of His saints.

The roll of pilgrims contains many royal names, among which we notice:-Ferdinand II. of Naples, two queens of Naples and one of Sardinia, Marie Amelie of France, wife of Louis Phillippe; and Maria Christina, Queen of the two Sicilies. The latter was foundress of the Orphanage of the Sisters of Charity of St. Vincent de Paul, which adjoins the sanctuary. She raised it in thanksgiving for petitions granted on the many occasions of her visits to the shrine. Hosts of distinguished personages, including Cardinals, Archbishops, and Bishops from all the world over, have inscribed their names on these records of piety and faith.

The decree authorizing the devotion to St. Philomena, and granting to the clergy of Nola the privilege of saying Mass in her honour, was published by Gregory XVI. on January 30th, 1837. In March, 1839, the same Pontiff, by decree of the Sacred Congregation of Rites, raised her feast to the dignity of a double of the second class. It is to be noted that hers is the only instance of a “Proper Office” being granted in honour of a saint of whom no details are recorded or known, except the bare fact of her martyrdom. This was indicated, as we have already remarked, by the emblems cut on her tomb, and the three simple words inscribed on the slab enclosing her place of rest:

“Pax tecum! Philomena.” “Peace be with thee! Philomena.”

The successors of Gregory XVI. in the Pontifical chair, have given evidences of a similar veneration for this martyr of the primitive Church.

Pius IX., when Archbishop of Spoleto, was prostrated by an illness, in which his life was despaired of. In his apartment was a figure of the saint, resting within an enclosed case. As he lay apparently awaiting death, a knocking seemed to proceed from the little shrine. From that moment the Archbishop began to recover, and soon he was perfectly restored to health. Afterwards, when he had been raised to the Pontificate, he made a pilgrimage in person to Mugnano. It was performed during the period of his exile, Nov. 7th, 1849. His reception was one of memorable splendour. At the church of St. Philomena he was received by the King of Naples, who humbly knelt on the bare ground, when assisting him to alight. The Queen, with seven children, and many royal personages, knelt on the steps leading to the church door to receive the blessing of the Holy Father as he ascended. In memory of the event, Pius IX. granted many new spiritual favours to the Sanctuary of Mugnano. During his sojourn at Naples, he named St. Philomena one of the patrons of the kingdom, and later on, in 1862, gave her as patron to”The Children of Mary,” and confirmed her title of ““Protector of the Living Rosary.”

The present Pope, while administrator of the diocese of Benevento, visited Mugnano twice, and since then, has sent a costly offering to the Church of St. Philomena. Confraternities and Sodalities placed under her invocation have been many times favoured by Leo XIII. with increased indulgences.

In Ireland, the devotion to this child-saint and martyr has been taken up with great fervour, and rewarded with many striking favours.

The pious sisterhoods, to whose hands is confided the great work of Catholic education, have not been slow to find how powerful is the help of the “little wonder-worker.” Schools, special works of charity, the wants of the sick and afflicted, have many a time been blessed and promoted in wonderful ways through the invocation of St. Philomena. Her name is a household word in many Irish homes. Many a stricken heart turns to her for aid in the necessities which encompass our various paths through this land of distress and sorrow. And it is sweet to think that much of that beautiful fervour and devotion towards St. Philomena, which has spread like the odour of some delicate fragrant flower over pagan and far-off lands, has been borne thither by Irish hands and Irish hearts.

The Messager de St. Philomene et du Venerable Cure d”Ars, published in Paris (monthly) contains interesting records of the miracles worked, and favours granted by the “Virgin Wonder-worker” in every portion of the globe. We should recommend its perusal to our educated readers, especially to the clients of St. Philomena.

Were space at our disposal, we should gladly place some extracts from it on record here. However, before we close this sketch, we select one which has struck us by its simple beauty, and tells how our saint hearkens to the prayers of the little ones of Christ.

In a province of France there lived a child named Marie Philomene, who, from her earliest years had been taught to invoke her holy patron, by whom more than once she was delivered from danger. In May, 1883, when but five years old, she was attacked by a fatal illness. The physician declared her case quite hopeless, and one evening informed the afflicted parents of the little sufferer that it was useless for him to return, inasmuch as all the symptoms of death had already set in.

Her godmother, who was kneeling by her little cot, bethought of invoking St. Philomena, and made the child kiss a picture representing her.

She could no longer see nor lift her hands, but could still hear. Suddenly with a trembling voice she exclaimed, “Godmother, where is St. Philomena? what shall I say to her?” “Ask her to come to you,” was the reply. “Tell her you will give yourself to God, and teach little children. Ask her to send you some sleep, and promise to go to Mass tomorrow to thank her.”

A few moments later the child said she would like to go to sleep, and then fell into a gentle slumber. At 6 o‘clock the following morning, she sat up in bed, saying “St Philomena has cured me! I want to go to Mass!” Arising, she dressed herself, and walked to church, a mile distant, holding her godmother’s hand.

—

Our story of the great wonders wrought by the intercession of Philomena may not for the present extend farther. May our efforts to retrace some of the glories which surround the name of the youthful Martyr of the Catacombs increase the fervour of those devoted to her. May they urge others to spread wider still veneration for her virtues of constancy and heroism, by which she obtained such favour with God, and merited so many benedictions for those who invoke her! St. Philomena! Pray for us.

Nihil Obstat:

JOANNES KEANE. S. J. Cens. Theol.Deput.

Imprimi Potest: @ EDUARDUS Archiep. Dublinen. Hiberniae Primas Dublini: die 2 Januarii, 1929.

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Saint Pius V

INDEX

SINCE THIS BOOK WAS FIRST PUBLISHED, ANOTHER POPE HAS BEEN CANONIZED: POPE ST. PIUS X (1903–1914), CANONIZED IN 1954.

REJOICE, O HAPPY CHILDREN OF DOMINIC, AND BURN TORCHES IN HONOR OF PIUS THE FIFTH! BE GLAD, O MOTHER CHURCH, SO LONG WEEPING AT THE RIVER OF BABYLON! LET ALL THE HEAVENLY HOSTS EXULT, AND REDUPLICATE OUR FESTIVE ALLELUIA TO PIUS.” THUS BEGINS THE VESPERS OF SAINT PIUS AND IT SOUNDS THE DOMINANT NOTE OF HIS ENTIRE OFFICE. WELL INDEED MIGHT THE FAMILY OF SAINT DOMINIC REJOICE, THAT FAMILY WHICH HAS GIVEN TO THE CHURCH SO MANY EMINENT CANONISTS, PROFOUND PHILOSOPHERS, LEARNED THEOLOGIANS, AND SAINTS, FOR IN PIUS THE FIFTH ALL THESE QUALITIES IN A HIGH DEGREE WERE UNIQUELY COMBINED, AND, MOREOVER, HE IS HONORED BY THE UNIVERSAL CHURCH AS POPE AND SAINT. THE CHURCH HAS GOOD CAUSE ALSO TO HONOR HIM AS HER VALIANT DEFENDER, FOR HE CAME TO HER IN THE TIME OF HER GREAT TRIBULATION AND DISTRESS, AND PROVED HIMSELF TO BE HER STALWART AND FAITHFUL SON. ALL OF CHRISTENDOM OWES A DEBT OF GRATITUDE TO THIS SAINTLY “FATHER OF NATIONS,” WHO, STERN IN THE PATH OF RIGHTEOUSNESS, YET LOWLY IN HIS DEEP SUBMISSIVE REVERENCE FOR THE MANDATES OF GOD, HAS DONE SO MUCH TO STRENGTHEN THE CHRISTIAN RELIGION AND TO EXTEND THE KINGDOM OF GOD UPON THE EARTH.

It is proverbial that at all times, when the Church was passing through periods of storm and stress, God raised up mighty and valiant leaders to guide her safely over the troubled waters into the harbor of peace and calm. So, in the beginning of the sixteenth century. one of the most trying through which the Church Militant has had to pass, Almighty God sent a new Moses, not only to deliver His Church from the bondage of political entanglements into which human ambition had betrayed her, but also to save European civilization from being supplanted by Asiatic fanaticism.

The family of the Ghislieri, once richly endowed but having become impoverished by the civil wars, which in the fifteenth century had desolated Lombardy, came to hide their poverty in Bosco, a small town in northern Italy. There on the 17th of January, usually a chill and gloomy month in southern Europe, Dominica Augeria, wife of Paul Ghislieri, gave birth to a boy whom they called Michael. This child is the subject of our story. Little is known of Dominica,the boy’s mother, beyond the fact that she instilled into the heart of her son a fervent spirit of piety toward God and a very tender devotion to His Blessed Mother, virtues which characterized his life as a Dominican, as a Cardinal, and as Vicar of Christ. And, although wealth was no longer the portion of the Ghislieri, their only possessions being a tiny dwelling, a little vineyard, and a small flock of sheep, yet a better inheritance descended on the future Saint-an inheritance of piety, resignation, and steadfast endeavor to fulfill the adorable Will of God by daily labor.

Michael was a gentle and serious child, peacefully happy in his quiet way, and never boisterous in his amusements. As he advanced in years he found his greatest pleasure in reading, and when at school he was pointed out as a boy of unusual talent and application. But Paul Ghislieri was too poor to indulge ambition for his son. Instead of being allowed to continue his studies, Michael must be taught a trade whereby he might aid his father in earning a livelihood for the family. Thus spoke both the parents, and their little son listened with sinking heart, for another voice had already sounded in his ears, and his daily prayer was for strength and opportunity to follow it. He was longing, as only the chosen of God can long, to consecrate himself to Christ. At this time the boy was twelve years old, tall for his age, slight of build, with fine, clear-cut features, and luminous eyes full of intelligence, honesty, and enthusiasm. And just as plans were being completed for his entering a new life in the world, strangely and unexpectedly, the door of the sanctuary was thrown open for him.

There was no seminary nor monastery near Bosco, and consequently no priest nor religious to give him a helping hand. However, one day, when returning from school, Michael met two Dominican Friars, who chanced to be passing through the village. Seizing the opportunity for which he had so long waited, he timidly accosted them, told them with great respect, yet with earnestness, the secret desire of his heart, and begged them to take him to their convent. They questioned him closely and were so impressed by his simple candor and innocence, and by the premature wisdom of his questions and answers, that they agreed to receive him as a pupil, with a view to testing his vocation. This unexpected fulfillment of his cherished hopes seemed to Michael an answer to his prayers, and his heart overflowed with gratitude. He asked to be allowed a few minutes” delay in which to make known to his parents his secret desires and the opportunity offered for their realization. This granted, he hurried home, and, in a rather excited frame of mind, opened his heart to his father and mother and begged leave to go. They were not a littleastonished at their son’s eagerness, but, having had long noted the signs of a vocation which were so abundantly evident in him, they were not altogether unprepared to make the sacrifice. They willingly consented, thanking God for their son’s vocation, and expressing the wish to see him clothed in the habit of Saint Dominic. Again the boy’s heart bounded for gladness, and, bidding his parents a hasty good-bye, he ran back to his new friends. They were traveling on foot and had a great distance to go, so the poor little follow would scarcely have been able to keep up with them had he not taken hold of the cloak of one of the Fathers; with this help he followed them to their convent at Voghera, a town in Lombardy.

From the day he entered the priory he was serenely happy in his new surroundings, and applied himself to the duties of his calling with an eagerness that excited both the admiration of his superiors and the emulation of his fellow-novices. His probation was of short duration, for he was soon sent to the priory of Vigevano to make his novitiate. There the novices regarded him as one who had advanced far in the science of the saints. He was habitually silent and recollected, always prudent, docile, and humble, and jealously observant of rules and regulations. In May, 1520, he received the Dominican habit, and a year later made his religious profession. The next seven years were spent in the study of philosophy and theology at the Convents of Fermo, Pavia, Ravenna, and Raggio. He studied as the saints have always studied, with continual elevation of mind to the Throne of Light, frequently interrupting his work to pour forth his soul in fervent prayer. He had no sooner finished his studies than he was appointed professor of theology, and his first direction to his class was this: “The most powerful aid we can bring to this study is the practice of earnest prayer. The more closely the mind is united to God, the richer will be the stores of light that follow its researches.”

In his twenty-fifth year he was ordained to the priesthood, and although he had not seen his parents since leaving Bosco, some twelve years before, he dreaded even then yielding so much to nature as a visit home, and it was only in obedience to his superiors that he was constrained to visit them. So he set out to say his first Mass in the old parish church of his native village, where it had been his custom to pray at his mother’s side. He arrived at Bosco only to find that the town had been burned to the ground some months before by the French troops of Francis I on their way to Pavia. All the inhabitants had fled. Such was his home-coming. Hearing that his family and friends had taken refuge in the village of Sesodia, some miles away, he sought and found them there, and in the parish church of that village, surrounded by his own people, he celebrated his first solemn Mass.

During the next fifteen years Father Ghislieri held various offices in the Order. He was successively elected prior of the Convents of Vigevano, Soncino, and Alba. One point which he emphasized in his conferences to his religious subjects was the one on which Saint Dominic himself laid so much stress-that is, that they should take great care to preserve intact the religious spirit while mixing with the world for the salvation of souls. “As salt,” he said, “is quickly converted again into its first element, water, when the former is mixed with the latter, so religious, who “are the salt of the earth” withdrawn by God from the waters of the world, are but too easily absorbed once more into their native element, with all its vices and its temptations, if they return to it without sufficient and just cause.”

In works of charity he was indefatigable, often taking in the interests of charity, long and tiresome journeys, invariably traveling on foot and carrying his bag on his shoulders. He was always ready to give comfort, help, or advice to the weak and suffering, as though he had learned by experience to enter into every trial, and knew the most efficacious soothing for every sorrow. In 1543 he was summoned to the Provincial Chapter at Parma, and there he refuted the errors of the Lutherans in a masterly thesis dealing with many points of false doctrine. In consequence of this defense he was sought as a confessor by several persons of note, who needed especially enlightened direction. Among them was the Governor of Milan. This entailed a frequent journey of twenty miles, which the Saint made on foot, and so poorly clad that he must often have suffered extremely from the piercing cold and heavy rains of winter.

When in 1543 the heresy of Luther was beginning to make its way into the hitherto unperverted regions of the South, spreading the poison of falsehood through the inborn piety of the Italians, prompt measures of defense became necessary. The cardinals of the Holy Office in Rome, remembering the brilliant defense of the truth by Father Ghislieri at the Dominican Chapter of Parma, and relying on his reputation for prudence and firmness, sent him to Coma in the capacity of Inquisitor. No other inducement would have drawn him from his retreat, but this was a powerful one. He was called to a post of danger, of difficulties, and of thankless labor; for second only to the hatred which the innovators attached to the Office of the Supreme Pontiff was that which they associated with the Office of Inquisitor, and yet he accepted the charge in the hope that his efforts might prevent the plague of heresy from spreading among the children of God.

There are some who, while admiring Saint Pius’s administration as Pope, accuse him of undue rigor and intolerance as Inquisitor. But if they will follow him faithfully through his disagreeable and arduous tasks, they will soon acknowledge their mistake. Instead of finding him overbearing and intolerant they will find him going about humbly, prayerfully, and patiently from city to city and from hamlet to hamlet, examining the faithful, arguing with the heretics, testing, judging, and reproving with all kindliness, but yet with apostolic firmness. The threats of wealthy and influential opponents hindered not the man of God in his work. On one occasion he was cited before a civil tribunal as a disturber of the peace. And although warned that assassins lay in wait for him on the road, he went, nevertheless, and as he stood before the judge, his serene unruffled gaze meeting the angry eyes of his accusers, the magistrate, as if speechless with rage at the tranquil indifference of the champion of truth, rose and, glaring furiously at the friar, left the court in haste. It is true that he did use stringent means for the suppression of new doctrines and not infrequently was instrumental in having severe punishments imposed upon obstinate heretics. But to form a proper appreciation of his actions we must judge them in the light of the conditions which then prevailed. Most of the governments were still Catholic, and in consequence any violation of her laws or any attempt to sully the purity of her doctrine was regarded not only as an offense against the Church, but also as an offense against the State. Whatever tended to undermine obedience to the Church was regarded as subversive of the peace and prosperity of the State. Hence it was that the Inquisitor by pronouncing a person a heretic rendered him subject to the penalties imposed for violation of the laws of the State. If these penalties were too severe, the blame is to be laid at the door, not of the Inquisitor, but of the State which had established them. The age of which we speak was one of force and violence, and the sanction which was then attached to all laws was more severe than that which is attached to them at the present day. Consequently if we view the conduct of Saint Pius in the light and spirit of the age in which he lived, we can find no sufficient reason for the harsh criticisms which have been made against him, as well as against many others who held the office of Inquisitor. Two instances will suffice to give an idea of his methods.

One of the most mischievous publications of the sectaries had been sent to a merchant at Coma for distribution among the inhabitants. Father Ghislieri, in virtue of his office, seized the books and refused them to the merchant who claimed them as his property. The merchant had friends in the Cathedral Chapter and appealed to the Vicar Capitular for redress; his appeal was successful, and the Inquisitor, in order to warn the faithful of the false doctrine contained in the consignment of books, and also to put them on their guard against the disseminators of evil, at once excommunicated all parties concerned. He was assailed by the mob with stones, and when threatened to be thrown into a well he calmly answered, “That shall be as God wills.” The Governor of Milan summoned him to answer for his conduct and threatened him with imprisonment, but the servant of God had procured a mule and was far on his way to Rome before the Governor found means to carry out his threat. An incident in connection with this journey of the Saint is worthy of note. Father Ghislieri, travel-soiled and exhausted, reached the Eternal City late Christmas eve, 1515, and quite naturally enough went directly to his own monastery of Santa Sabina for lodgings. No notice of his coming had been given, and the prior not knowing the Saint, and distrusting the account of the poverty-marked wayfarer, asked: “What is the reason of your visit? Will you present yourself to the Cardinals in the hope of being elected Pope?” “I have come,” answered the future Pontiff, “in the interests of the Church. I shall go home again as soon as I have been directed how to act. I ask only a few days” hospitality for myself and my poor worn-out mule.” He was assigned a room next to that which had been occupied by Saint Dominic. Both rooms are now venerated as household sanctuaries. His case having been reported to the Cardinals of the Holy Office, they approved of his action, and with full confidence sent him back to his perilous and difficult charge. In returning he was advised to lay aside his Dominican habitand travel in secular disguise, since his life was in danger, but he refused, saying: “I accepted death with my commission, I can never die in a holier cause.”

A certain Jew, who had become a Catholic while still a boy, had entered the Order of Friars Minor, and became a popular preacher. In course of time his discourses became tainted with heresy and the young friar was imprisoned. He, however, retracted, was released and returned to his Order. But being a second time convicted of heresy he was more obstinate, and there seemed to be no hope of his escaping death by fire, the penalty for a relapsed heretic. Father Ghislieri when walking through the prison was struck by the profound misery of the young Franciscan; he spoke to him kindly, begging him to confide in him as a friend. After long persuasion the young man told his name and history, but refused to renounce his error. The Inquisitor doubled his prayers, every day offered the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass for his conversion, and daily visited him, speaking to him with tenderness and sympathy. At last the persistency of the Saint prevailed. The prisoner, bursting into tears, expressed the wish to repent and to prove his sincerity by a life of penance. Saint Pius hastened to the Pope and sought and obtained his pardon. The prisoner made full abjuration of his heresy, confessed to his preserver, and received absolution. The Inquisitor next undertook to provide for the future of his penitent, who refused to return to the Order he had so shamefully disgraced. He received him into the Order of Preachers, clothing him with one of his own habits and adopting him as his spiritual son. This young friar later became the celebrated Biblical scholar Sixtus of Siena. Such were the methods used by Father Ghislieri, the Inquisitor, in his difficult and delicate task, with the result that he did perhaps more than any one else to check the tide of heresy and to keep Lutheranism from taking root in Italy.

In 1555 Cardinal Caraffa ascended the Papal Throne, as Paul IV, and one of his first acts was to appoint Father Ghislieri Bishop of Nepi and Sutri, near Rome. Tears were not common with Father Ghislieri, but at this news they flowed freely, while he implored the Holy Father to choose another prelate and let him go back to hisconvent, “to live and die as a Dominican.” The Pope merely silenced the appeal with an express command to accept the charge; and when later on as Bishop he begged to resign his diocese, the Holy Father answered: “I will bind you with so strong a chain that even after my death you will never be free to return to your cloister.”

This was a clear indication of the next step, and shortly afterward Bishop Ghislieri was peremptorily ordered to accept, without offering any opposition, the dignity of the Cardinalate. It was characteristic of the Bishop that he remained silent when urged to offer the customary thanks for the honor received. He was not grateful for the promotion and would not express gratitude when he did not feel it. It fell, then, to the members of the Sacred College to thank the Holy Father for giving them so worthy a colleague.

For his Titular Church he chose the Dominican Church Santa Maria sopra Minerva. He also wished to be called Cardinal Alessandrino instead of Ghislieri, as the former name had been given to him by the Father Provincial on the happy day of his religious profession, and it seemed like a last link to the Order from which he had been so reluctantly separated. Though Cardinal, he still wore the Dominican habit, observed the fasts and other austerities of the Dominican Rule, and lived in the simplicity which characterized his former life. When employing servants he would say to them: “If you come to me, remember you will not live as they do, in Cardinals” palaces. My household is like a monastery, and you must be prepared to live like laybrothers.” Yet he was kind and indulgent to the members of his household.

On the accession of Pius IV, December, 1559, Cardinal Alessandrino (Ghislieri) was confirmed in the Office of Supreme Inquisitor, to which office he was appointed by Paul IV, and appointed to the See of Mandovi. There he restored the purity of faith and discipline so gravely impaired by the wars of Piedmont. Frequently called to Rome for consultation, he displayed the same zeal and adherence to principle which had characterized his other activities. There he offered unceasing opposition to the appointment of Ferdinand de Medici, then only thirteen years old, as a member of the Sacred College, declaring that the Church needed not children, but men of mature years to sustain her reputation for wisdom and virtue. It was also due in great measure to his decided stand that the endeavors of Maximilian II, Emperor of Germany, to abolish ecclesiastical celebacy were defeated.

Pius IV died December 9, 1565, and on December 26th a conclave was opened for the election of his successor. Never was the choice of a Sovereign Pontiff of more vital importance. A man of no ordinary ability was required to meet the exigencies of the time and to carry out with firmness and discretion the discipline and regulations of the Council of Trent. Happily the most influential person in the conclave was the great and saintly Archbishop of Milan, Cardinal Charles Borromeo. He placed the name of Cardinal Allessandrino as a man capable of fulfilling the office, and after a little balloting his nominee received the number of votes necessary for election. Cardinal Borromeo and two other Cardinals were delegated to make known to the Pope-elect the choice of the conclave. They anticipated his objections, and carrying him from his cell bore him in their arms to the chapel, where he received the homage of the assembled Cardinals. “Pronounce your acceptance, Most Holy Father,” commanded Cardinal Borromeo, “in the name of the Church.” But the answer was more startling than words, for the strong, self-controlled Cardinal Alessandrino burst into tears, and his whole form shook with sobs while he repeated the words, “I cannot; I am not worthy.” It was long before they could calm him, long before the ring could be placed upon his finger and before he could be prevailed upon to pronounce the word “Acceptamus.” “We accept.” Prudence, learning, and sanctity ascended the throne in the person of Pius V. When the report had reached his ears that the Romans dreaded the inflexible severity of the new Sovereign, he exclaimed: “Ah! so they think I shall rule them with an iron sway. God grant me the grace to so act that they may grieve more for my death than for my election.” And so indeed it came to pass, for all classes from the highest to the lowest, even those who had little expected such thoughtful generosity, learned to love the great Pontiff for his unobtrusive benevolence.

It was indeed a dreary and woeful scene on which the Chief Shepherd’s eye looked down from his watch-tower on the seven hills. Rome lay desolate under the curse of her children’s sins. Usury, assassination, and immorality in a multitude of forms everywhere disgraced the Papal Domains. The scepter of the Holy Roman Empire was held by the weak and vacillating Emperor Maximilian II. In France, the wily Queen Regent, Catherine de Medici, had been intriguing with the rapidly increasing Huguenot party, in spite of its avowedly anarchistic and anti-Catholic tenets. The throne of Spain was filled by Phillip II, who unquestionably had the welfare of religion at heart, but was swayed by ambitions, personal and national, which too often injured its interests. Sebastian, King of Portugal, had not yet completed his fourteenth year. Elizabeth ruled in England, and had already severed it from the unity of Christendom. Such was the state of affairs in the wide family of which Pius V had now become father.

Divine Providence, however, had provided for him a corps of saints as co-workers. Saint Phillip Neri went daily through the streets winning thousands by the sweetness of his charity, and preaching everywhere frequent communion and continual prayer as the great means of spiritual regeneration. Saint Charles Borromeo, the model of Christian pastors, co-operated intimately with the Pontiff, in whose elevation he had been the principal instrument. Saint Francis Borgia was General of the Society of Jesus, which had lately been founded, and whose founder, Saint Ignatius, had just passed from this life. Saint Stanislaus Kostka was on the threshold of his saintly life, and was soon succeeded by Saint Aloysius. In Spain, Saint John of God and Saint John of the Cross were laboring for the restoration of primitive fervor, and Saint Theresa had just laid the foundation for a marvelous reform. In this reform she was aided by Saint Peter of Alcantara, who died two years before the accession of Saint Pius.

The first public measure of the new Pope indicated what was to be the spirit of his reign. The money which at the installation of Pontiffs had been scattered amid the populace in the streets was carefully distributed among those in greatest need and whose weakness or modesty would have prevented them from gaining anything in the general scramble. The thousand crowns usually spent on a banquet to the Cardinals and Ambassadors present at the coronation were sent as an alms to hospitals and to the poorest convents of the city. “For I know,” said the Pope, “that God will not call me to account for suppressing a feast for the wealthy, but he may punish me severely if I neglect His poor.”

It was soon manifest also that the general reform contemplated by the Pope was to begin with the reformation of his own court and capital. He began his reign with exceptional fasts and prayer, by commending himself to the suffrages of the various religious communities, and by publishing a jubilee to draw down upon himself and the Church all the graces so urgently needed at that critical time. He then assembled all the members of his household, made known to them what he expected of each according to his rank, and laid down special rules for their conduct. He fixed a certain time for evening prayers, at which he himself never failed to be present. He wore his Dominican habit under his pontifical vestments and slept upon the same hard pallet which he had used in his cell. Not only were the ordinary fasts of the Church observed in his household, but such was the frugality of his table that its daily cost did not exceed a testone, or about thirty-two cents of our money. Instead of armorial bearings, the following verse was engraved on his seal: “O that my ways were directed to keep Thy Commandments.” A crucifix stood always on his table, at the foot of which were inscribed these words: “God forbid that I should glory save in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ.”

In a consistory held expressly for the purpose he addressed a fatherly exhortation to the Cardinals and Prelates, in which he explained to them the surest way to appease the wrath of God and to stay the progress of heretics and infidels was that each should begin by setting in order his own conscience and his own house. “It is to you,” he said, “that Jesus Christ addresses these words, “You are the Light of the world; you are the Salt of the earth.” Therefore enlighten the people by the purity of your lives and by the brilliancy of your holiness! God does not ask from you mere ordinary virtue, but downright perfection!”

A very annoying source of evil was the intercourse of Christian families with the Jews. The crafty Jews took advantage of the simple credulity of the Christians. Practicing under a fake science of astrology, they introduced among them various kinds of immorality, while at the same time they ruined their fortunes by usury. The new Pope, therefore, banished all Jews from every part of the territories of the Church, except the Jewish merchants at Rome and Ancona, where their presence was necessary for keeping up the commerce of the Levant. But even in these places they were confined to separate quarters of the city as a precaution against their evil influences.

The assassinations and robberies daily committed in his domains did not escape the vigilant eye of the new Sovereign. By an agreement made with the viceroys of Naples and Tuscany, it was enacted that bandits should be seized and executed wherever they should be found, without distinction of territory. By these prompt measures the Ecclesiastical States were soon freed from this scourge. He exhorted unceasingly all magistrates and rulers to justice, and enacted many laws for the improvement of public morals, which were enforced with so much vigor that within less than a year the whole aspect of affairs in the Papal States had changed.

The next care of Saint Pius was to procure the recognition of the disciplinary decrees of the Council of Trent by all Catholic nations. A few of them, among which Portugal, the Republic of Venice, and the Catholic cantons of Switzerland were honorably distinguished, yielded instant obedience. But France and Germany temporized and hesitated, and even Phillip imposed certain restrictions upon the publications of the decrees in Spain, Flanders, and in the Italian States. The Pope’s pen was constantly in hand directing nuncios, explaining the Church’s canons, and reasoning with and exhorting Ambassadors. He also used his growing influence with the Bishops to hasten the establishing of diocesan seminaries, for hitherto the universities had been the only educational centers for ecclesiastics. From the Papal treasury he defrayed the expenses of students who were unable to educate themselves for the priesthood.

In September, 1566, the Catechism of the Council of Trent was issued. The new edition of the Breviary, revised by the Saint, was published in July, 1568, and the revised Missal two years later. By a special decree, those orders which could show a rite of their own in existence for more than two hundred years, approved by the Holy See, were permitted to retain it. Thus the Benedictines, Carthusians, Cistercians, Carmelites, and Dominicans kept their ancient office and Mass. Church music received much attention. Being solicitous that the Real Presence in the churches should be hailed with the homage of sacred music, he ordered the old Gregorian plain chant to be restored in its simplicity, and appointed Palestrina master of the orchestra in the Papal Chapel.

To appreciate his world-wide political activities in the interests of humanity it would be necessary to study carefully the eighty volumes of the Pope’s correspondence preserved in the Vatican.

Saint Pius, as Supreme Pontiff, religiously kept the resolution he had made when Cardinal, never to make his own exaltation a means of advancing his family.

He was, however, prevailed upon to entrust the administration of temporal affairs to his great nephew, Michael Bonnelli, who was chosen, not on account of his relationship, but for his admirable fitness to fulfill the office. He made him steward of the ecclesiastical domains, and at the same time issued a solemn decree forbidding all alienation of those domains. The Cardinals were bound by oath, from which they were never to seek absolution nor accept a dispensation, to resist with all their power any infringement of this decree in future.

We now come to an incident in the life of Saint Pius which portrays his character in a new light. We have seen how inflexible he could be when called upon to defend the truth against the insidious attacks of heretics and how much energy he displayed in combating the moral and social evils of his time. But in his dealings with Elizabeth, the Apostate Queen of England, we are given a striking example of his forebearance and prudence, and also of his tenderness toward the oppressed of that unhappy realm. When Saint Pius ascended the Papal throne Elizabeth had for seven years been trying to uproot the Catholic faith within her domains. But still he withheld his hand, watching the tragedy deepen, as the unhappy nation accepted in sullen resentment the new religion forced upon it by fear and violence, until in 1570 he issued a Bull of excommunication and deposition against the Queen, separating her from the communion of the faithful, and absolving her subjects from their allegiance.

It will be remembered that Elizabeth’s title was but a parliamentary one, since she was the illegitimate daughter of Henry VIII and Anne Boleyn, born during the lifetime of the true queen, and that subsequently, on Henry’s marriage with Jane Seymour, she had been declared illegitimate by act of Parliament at her father’s command. Nevertheless she had taken the oath of Catholic sovereigns and promised to rule as a Catholic queen. Ten days after the coronation ceremonies she began to legislate against Papal authority in England. Through Parliament she enacted laws whereby the reigning sovereign became the head of the Church in England-”Supreme Governor in all ecclesiastical and spiritual things as well as temporal.” Mass was prohibited, Catholic Bishops deposed, imprisoned, or exiled. Before the first year of Elizabeth’s reign was over the acts of Queen Mary and Cardinal Pole had “vanished like smoke,” and before ten years had passed the Penal Laws were in full force. The words “Traitor” and “Catholic” had become synonymous, and priests were hanged, drawn, and quartered for celebrating Mass. Protestantism, “by law estab- lished,” had become the national religion. Elizabeth had by her conduct proclaimed herself the determined adversary of the Catholic cause in England, and had, moreover, supported rebels against the Catholic sovereigns on the Continent. Pope Pius made every possible overture for a reconciliation. He had offered to legitimize her and to recognize her claim to the allegiance of her subjects, but all efforts were futile. She would do nothing more than ridicule the generous character of the Saint. Elizabeth was warned of the steps the Pope would take if the present state of affairs continued, but the warning fell on irresponsive ears.

In 1568 Queen Mary Stuart, Elizabeth’s cousin, was driven from Scotland by the disloyalty of her subjects and sought refuge in England. There, in defiance of all justice and decency, she was thrown into prison, and from that time till her execution, in 1587, she was the victim of plots, intrigues, and slander. Pope Pius had long taken a paternal interest in the widowed Queen, who had turned to him in her anguish, and with full confidence in his fatherly pity made known to him the treacherous and unnatural treatment which she was receiving from the cruel and ambitious Elizabeth. The Pontiff’s letters to the broken-hearted Mary Stuart are gems of rare and warm manifestations of sanctified tenderness. He granted her the privilege of receiving Holy Communion from her own hands, sending her a golden pyx containing consecrated hosts, and he appealed continually to the great Catholic powers to come to the rescue of the captive Queen, but all efforts were fruitless.

In October, 1569, an uprising took place in the North. Its primary object was the release of Mary Stuart, but to have prominently put forward this idea would have been equivalent to signing her death warrant; consequently the proclamation merely stated that the Catholics had taken up arms in defense of the true religion. The insurrection failed miserably and was followed by severe punishment. More than eight hundred northern Catholics perished at the hands of the executioners.

A Bull of excommunication had been prepared for some time, but Pius deferred its promulgation, hoping that Elizabeth would relent. At length, when the intelligence arrived of the failure of the insurrection and of the cruelties perpetrated by Elizabeth on the insurrectionists, he deemed the time ripe for striking a decisive blow. He signed the Bull on the 25th of February, 1570, and ordered its promulgation. Three months later a copy of it was nailed to the door of the residence of the Protestant Bishop of London by John Felton, a Catholic. He was captured and put on the rack in the hope of forcing him to make known the name of the person from whom he received his commission. Upon his persistent refusal, he was subjected to other indignities and was finally hanged in Saint Paul’s churchyard August 8th. He has since been beatified.

Though Elizabeth professed to despise the sentence pronounced by the Pope, it is clear that she did not like it. She thought it was connected with some plan of foreign invasion or domestic treason, declared it to be an insult to European sovereigns, and induced Maximilian II, of the Holy Roman Empire, to endeavor to have it withdrawn. To the solicitations of the Emperor the Pope answered by asking whether Elizabeth deemed the sentence valid or invalid. If valid, why did she not seek a reconciliation with the Holy See? If invalid, why did she wish it revoked? The abusive language and revengeful threats of Elizabeth were unable to alter the Pope’s decision, and the sentence remained unwithdrawn.

That the Bull, as regards the deposition, failed in its effect, is not due to Pius, but to those temporal rulers who, nominally Catholic, passed it over in silence, ignoring it for motives of self-interest instead of uniting with the Holy See in enforcing it upon England. Temporal weapons were the only ones feared by Elizabeth, and the knowledge that the great powers of Europe stood prepared to support the Holy Father in his sentence against her would speedily have brought her to her knees, and certainly have changed the course of English history.

Spain also contributed much to the ever-accumulating anxieties of the Supreme Pontiff. There the Inquisition had become a secular tribunal, deriving its authority from the King, and its judgments were often far different from what they would have been had the Church guided its proceedings. The odium of many of its acts fell on religion, and not infrequently was it imperative on Rome to clear up the mistake.

The Pope tried to persuade Charles IX of France to use the sword only in the interests of peace, and also to exercise the virtues of regal justice and mercy, virtues which are so important in a ruling monarch at all times, but especially when the wild passions of men are let loose, as was the case during the Huguenot uprising. Unfortunately the influence of Catherine de Medici proved fatal to the great good which should have resulted had the Pope’s instructions been followed; yet there can be no doubt that, were it not for the unwearied exertions of the Supreme Pontiff, turbulence and irreligion would have had a far more demoralizing influence.

Saint Pius devoted also much time to America, then but recently discovered. His great care there was to aid those devoted bands of missionaries, Benedictines, Jesuits, Franciscans, and Dominicans, who were wearing out their lives in conflicts with ignorance and vice on the very frontiers of Christendom. The natives listened eagerly to the voice of the missionaries who preached the Christian faith to them, but when they saw the evil lives of many Christians they concluded that a religion which produced such evil results could never have come from heaven. Thus the noble efforts of the missionaries were thwarted by the cruelty and wickedness of European Christians. Bartholomeo de Las Casas, an eminent Dominican missionary of the South, complained bitterly that the vices of the European settlers greatly hindered the spread of Christianity among the natives, and begged the Pope to use his influence with the temporal rulers that they should restrain the guilty. Hence the Pontiff wrote the Catholic sovereigns of Europe, emploring them to reign as vice-regents of the King of kings and to encourage the propagation of the Catholic faith in their new western dominions.

From the internal wounds of Christendom the watchful eye of its Father turned to the dangers which threatened it from without. In the far East, Solymarl the Magnificent, Sultan of the Turks, was carefully watching every movement of his Christian neighbors. He hailed with exceeding satisfaction the appearance of Luther, whom he took to be a new prophet sent at the prayer of Mahomet to be an aid toward the subjugation of Christendom by the Mussulman armies. It is difficult in these days, when the Mussulman Empire lies an inert mass at the threshold of Christendom, to realize the terror of its name in the days of Pius V. Then the Mediterranean was covered with its fleets, Greece and Hungary were under its dominion, and the conquest of Malta and Cyprus were the only obstacles to its advance upon Italy.

The Knights of Malta heroically guarded the outposts assigned to them as a barrier against the inroads of the fanatical Turks. They were truly chivalrous champions of God, men after the heart of Saint Pius. But the day came when it was clear that the gallant force was so weakened by the toll it had paid to the ferocity of its assailants that the next attack of the enemy would crush these valiant defenders of Catholic peace. A massacre of the garrison would surely follow the surrender of Malta, and without prompt succor the island could not hold out. The Grand Master of the Order, John de la Valette, sent word to the Pope, explaining the situation, and asking whether or not he should abandon the island and retreat to Sicily while there was yet time. “No,” came the answer from Pius V; “remain at your glorious post. Willingly would I hasten to die, God permitting, at your side. As duty binds us here, we will call on Christendom to take our place in this God-crowned warfare, and while we open the spiritual treasures of the Church with liberal hand to your auxiliaries, we shall also afford you all the temporal help in our power, praying the Divine Omnipotence to guard you.” By means of the money and troops sent by the Pope the danger was averted for the time being.

Under Selim II, however, the progress of the Turks became more alarming than ever. They had taken Cyprus with the active co-operation of the Greek population of the island, and were massacring the Latin nobility and clergy. Yet the Saint found it impossible to move Christendom to its own defense. In 1570 he sent Cardinal legates to every court, excepting England, to preach a crusade, to beg for ships, men, and money. Every court but Spain returned an excuse. At length by dint of effort he succeeded in forming a league between Spain, Venice, and the Holy See. Don John of Austria was appointed Commander-inChief. Saint Pius assured him that “if relying on divine grace, rather than on humanhelp, he attacked the enemy, God would not be wanting to His own cause.” He enjoined the officers to look to the good conduct of their troops; to suppress swearing, gaming, riot, and plunder, and thereby to render themselves deserving of victory. A fast of three days was proclaimed for the success of the enterprise, and the Rosary was to be recited every day on board the ships. All the men went to confession, received Holy Communion, and took advantage of the plentiful indulgences which the Pope attachedto the expedition. The Forty Hours” Exposition of the Blessed Sacrament was ordered in all the churches of Rome, during which the Rosary was to be recited aloud. A universal jubilee also was published to draw down God’s blessing on the Christian army.

On the afternoon of October 7, 1571, the Christian fleet, consisting of 210 vessels, met and engaged, in one of the decisive battles of the world, the Ottoman fleet, numbering about 300 ships, under command of Ali Pasha. During the night preceding the battle and all through the day itself the aged Pontiff, aged and broken in health as he was, passed in fasting and prayer; thus, like another Moses, he prayed while the armies of God fought. All through the city the monasteries and colleges were also in prayer. As the evening advanced, and he was in anxious consultation with some officials of the Papal Court, he suddenly paused and began to pray. His serious emaciated countenance, lined with care and responsibility, grew flushed with the fervor of his petition. Then rising he went to the window that overlooked the Campagna and gazed silently across the blue distance. All at once his countenance lit up with an expression of joy and a murmur of thanksgiving parted his lips; then, turning to his attendants, he said:”This is no time for business; go, return thanks to the Lord God. In this very hour our fleet has engaged the Turks and is victorious.” He then dismissed his attendants, and threw himself upon his knees, while tears of gratitude for so signal a victory coursed down his cheeks. The date and hour of this prophecy were carefully noted by the Cardinals, and it proved to be the decisive moment in which the Christian fleet triumphed over the Turks in the Bay of Lepanto.

It was near the end of October before Contarini, the messenger from the fleet, reached Rome with tidings of the victory. He arrived at midnight and was immediately admitted into the presence of the Pope. When the Saint heard all the particulars of the glorious and complete victory he fell on his knees, crying out in the fulness of his heart: “He hath regarded the prayer of the humble and He hath not despised their petition. Let these things be written unto another generation, and the people to be created shall praise the Lord.”

Upward of thirty thousand Turks lost their lives in the battle, ten thousand were made prisoners, and almost their whole fleet was taken, while fifteen thousand Christian prisoners were liberated. The Crusaders lost seven thousand five hundred men. This was the turning point of Turkish invasion of Europe. They lost prestige and self-confidence, and from then onward their power gradually declined.

In memory of this unparalleled victory, and in gratitude to our Blessed Lady for her powerful intercession in behalf of the Christian forces, Saint Pius inserted the words, “Auxilium Christianorum, ora pro nobis,” “Help of Christians, pray for us,” in her Litanies, and ordered that thenceforward the commemorative feast of Our Lady of Victories should be observed on the anniversary of the battle, October 7th. Pope Gregory XIII changed the title of the feast to that of Our Lady of the Rosary, and appointed the first Sunday of October (Rosary Sunday) for its celebration.

When one considers the immense amount of work that fell to Saint Pius as Pope, he is naturally led to inquire what time could he possibly give to the care of his own soul. Engaged unceasingly in attending to the wants of others, or to the affairs of State, it would seem that he could give but little time to private devotion. But such, indeed, was not the case. The early hours of the day were given to prayer and meditation. He celebrated Mass very early in the morning, and with such fervor as to greatly edify all who assisted at it. After Mass he spent a long time in thanksgiving and meditation, often becoming so absorbed in God that his attendants were obliged to pull him by his habit when they had occasion to speak to him. Every day he studied the Scriptures, and read some portion of the Life of Saint Dominic, or of some other Saint, preferably of the Dominican Order. His devotion to the Rosary was very great. He recited it unfailingly each day, and published decrees confirming the privileges granted to the Rosary Confraternity. The following is a quotation taken from oneof these decrees: “Inspired, as is believed, by the Holy Spirit, the Blessed Dominic, Founder of the Order of Friar Preachers, on an occasion similar to this in which we now find ourselves, at a time when heresy blinded a great number of souls, turning his eyes toward heaven, where the Blessed Virgin reigns, conceived a very easy way, within the reach of all, to propitiate the Mother of God by the recitation of her Rosary or Psalter. We ourselves also turn to that mountain whence cometh our help in the midst of our sorrows, and we tenderly exhort all the faithful disciples of Jesus Christ, in the Name of the Lord, to follow this example.”

He prayed fervently for the dead, and often declared that he had received marvelous assistance in his greatest needs through that devotion. At times when troubles accumulated he loved to ponder on the spirit of the Martyrs of Rome, toward whom he was especially devoted. It is told of him, that once, when asked by a stranger for some relic to take back home, the Pope bade him take a handful of the dry earth at his feet. The stranger, not wishing to offend the Pontiff by re-fusing the proffered gift, did as he was bidden, and found to his astonishment that it stained his scarf with blood. The Saint then informed him that the ground upon which he stood had been saturated with the blood of Martyrs.

Early in the day he began to grant audiences to those who had business with him, and frequently they were so numerous that it was late in the evening before he could dismiss the last one. To gain time he sometimes admitted ambassadors and men of important affairs during his meals. It was not uncommon to see early in the morning groups of strangers, or even ecclesiastics, wending their way by torchlight through the narrow streets of Rome to the Vatican in order to secure an audience with the Pope. He gave one day each month exclusively to the poor, whom he received with such kindness, and listened so patiently to all they had to say, that when he could not grant what they asked they could see it was a great grief to him to refuse their petitions.

Throughout his whole life, Saint Pius was remarkable for his austerity, and toward the end of his career became more and more self-denying. He suffered extremely from gravel, but offered the pain as a penance for his sins and firmly refused all remedies, from which his modesty shrank. When suffering the tortures of this painful malady he would invariably slowly drag himself to kneel before his crucifix and repeat the prayer: “Lord increase my pains, but increase also my patience.” He could never be prevailed upon to take the nourishing food recommended by his physicians. His repast consisted of eggs and wild chicory or some other bitter herb, and he forbade all seasoning of it. On fasting days he did not consider this austerity severe enough, but ate only once, and limited the number of glasses of water he drank.

He listened humbly to reproofs given by ill-tempered subjects, and afterward thanked them for the service they had rendered. He one day pardoned a libertine who had lampooned him, saying: “My friend, I would have punished you if you had insulted the Pope, but since you attacked only Michael Ghislieri, go in peace.” It was his humility that made him wish to abdicate. But when he announced his intention of doing so and of retiring to the Dominican monastery at Bosco, his native village, to end his life in prayer and meditation, his spiritual adviser and the Cardinal, overcame his resolutions by representing to him that God had entrusted to him the guidance of His Church, and that it was his duty not to abandon it. He little loved the honors which his exalted dignity merited for him, regarding all such things as painful thorns, useful only in so far as they warned him of the peril in which he was placed. He often declared that he had not a single moment of peace since becoming Pope; also that he was worthy of compassion. He bitterly repented having accepted a charge he considered so far above his abilities.

Six months after the Battle of Lepanto Pius V lay on his death-bed. He had been suffering uncomplainingly for years, but at this stage of his life his painful malady increased rapidly. At the beginning of Lent he, although his weakness was very great, began to fast as though he were in sound health. His attendants, wishing to keep him alive, mixed gravy with the vegetables he ate, but as soon as he tasted the flavor of meat he said: “Would you wish me, during the short time I have to live, to break the laws which I have always kept and God has given me the grace to keep for fiftythree years?”

March, 1572, found him failing fast, and many times he had to deny himself the consolation of saying Mass. On such occasions Holy Communion was brought to him by his nephew, Cardinal Alessandrino, an heir alike to his name and virtues, and for hours afterward he would remain in a transport of love, from which he could be recalled only with difficulty.

Public audiences having been suspended, in order to allow him to spend the days yet left to him in preparing for eternity, the report spread abroad that he was dead, and consequently the city was filled with mourning and lamentations. The Pope was deeply moved on hearing of the grief of his children. He felt that his first words as their Sovereign had been a true prophecy, and that his people would mourn for him as their friend and father rather than as their ruler, and wished to give them his pontifical blessing once more. Hence on Easter Sunday, conquering the mortal weakness that was creeping over him, he robed himself in full pontificals, had himself carried to the balcony above the entrance to Saint Peter’s, and there solemnly blessed the assembled crowds. A deputation of the clergy and Roman nobles then waited on him to offer congratulations on his supposed recovery, but the Saint quickly told them of his real state. “My children,” he said, “I have no longer any business to transact except with God. The account which I shall soon have to render to Him of all the deeds and words of my life requires me to employ all the powers of my soul to prepare for it.”

To the consternation of his friends, and contrary to the advice of his physicians, he insisted on paying a farewell visit to the seven Basilicas of Rome and to the Scala Sancta. He set out on foot, upheld by the arms of his assistants. More than once he halted as though the agony of death were mastering him, but, murmuring feebly, “He who can do all things will finish the work He has begun,” continued his journey, thus following his “Via Crucis” to the end.

On his return to the Vatican, he was told that a number of English Catholics had come to seek shelter at Rome from the persecution of the tyrant Elizabeth. He desired to see them, made anxious inquiries concerning the state of Catholics in England, and charged his nephew to supply all their wants. As they left the room he was heard to say: “My God, Thou knowest that I have ever been ready to shed my blood for the salvation of that nation.”

On the 30th of April he announced that his hours were numbered, and asked the Bishop of Segia to administer to him the Sacrament of Extreme Unction, and from that time on the little strength that remained to him ebbed swiftly away. Once, when everyone present believed him to have passed away, he revived, and with an animation wonderful in a dying man said to the bystanders: “If you love my mortal life, full of so many miseries, you ought much more to love that unchangeable and blessed life which by the grace of God I hope soon to enjoy in heaven. You know well that the greatest wish of my life has been to conserve in its purity the deposit of faith, to overthrow the empire of the infidels, and to extend the Kingdom of God upon earth. But my sins and crimes have proved obstacles to the attainment of my wishes. I adore the depths of the judgments of God and acknowledge myself to be His unprofitable steward. It only remains for me to recommend to you, with all my soul, that same Church which God committed to my care. Do your utmost to elect a successor full of zeal for the glory of God, who will be attached to no other interest in the world, and who will seek nothing but the welfare of Christianity.”

When he had uttered these words a little incident occurred which shows the delicate perfection of his chastity. In the movement of his arms one of them became bare. This wounded his natural purity, and he quickly tried to cover it again with the sleeve of his woolen tunic.

He died on the first day of May, 1572. His feast is celebrated on May 5th. The heroic virtues which he practiced throughout his eventful career, and the miracles wrought during his lifetime and through his intercession after death, merited for him a place in the calendar of Saints. He is known and venerated as Saint Pius the Fifth, the last of the canonized Popes.*

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Saint Pius X

SCOURGE OF MODERNISM

MONSIGNOR JOHN P. CARROLL ABBING

INDEX

WE were very loath to leave the old Venetian town of Castelfranco behind us. We should have liked to linger in the cool shade of the mediaeval walls; to wander through the old streets of the town; to inspect the cathedral with its famous altar-piece by Giorgione. But we had no time to spare for these pleasant occupations, so we turned our backs upon the town and set out along the road which leads to Riese.

It was an uninteresting road, dusty and sun-baked, and it seemed interminably long. Our thoughts went back to those days, almost a century ago, when a little peasant boy tramped through rain and sleet in winter and the scorching rays of the sun in summer, to and from school, fourteen kilometers every day, along this monotonous road. He was a sturdy little fellow with curley hair and a bright intelligent face. He did not seem to mind the roughness of the way, for he had taken off his shoes and had slung them over his shoulder. Of course there was an added reason for that: he knew that his parents could not really afford to buy shoes for him so he made them last as long as possible. It was a pleasant sight to see him as he walked along merrily in his bare feet, not minding the dust or the frost, and holding in his hand a little satchel which contained his dinner, a piece of black bread. How easy it was to see in him the warm, generous heart, humble and self-sacrificing, which within a few years was to cast its glory over the whole Church.

So we trod in the footsteps of little Bepi Sarto until, turning a corner, we saw in front of us the little cluster of houses which is Riese, and above them the tall bell-tower of the village church.

And here on our right was the humble cottage which we had come so far to see. Our pilgrimage was at an end. We were crossing the doorstep of the house where Pius X was born.

EARLY YEARS

It was on the 2nd of June in the year 1835 that a second son was born to Giovanni Battista Sarto, the village postman, and his wife, Margherita Sanson. On the following day, according to the good custom of those parts, he was taken to the church to be baptised, receiving the names Giuseppe Melchiorre. Little did the old parish priest think that the baptismal book in which he made a note of the event would one day be bound in gold and guarded jealously, as one of the greatest treasures of Riese.

Of little Bepi’s childhood we need say little. Under the wise care of his mother he was brought up to love God and His holy Mother. It was his great delight to serve Mass, and very often, when the church bell rang while he was in the fields, he would hasten to borrow the shoes of one of his companions, so that he might run and serve at the altar. It is no wonder, then, that before many years had passed he conceived a great desire to be a priest and to offer the holy sacrifice himself.

Up to this he had been frequenting the elementary classes at Riese, receiving special instruction in Latin from the curate, who noted with satisfaction his quick intellect and remarkable memory. In 1846 he was old enough to attend the grammar school at Castelfranco. He made great progress there so that at the examinations held in 1850 he was first in every subject.

The next thing to be done was to send him to a seminary, for he had now told the parish priest of his desire; and the good old man, full of joy and enthusiasm, had persuaded Gian Battista to submit to the divine will and to give his son to God. But where was the necessary money to come from? Neither Gian Battista nor the parish priest had any to spare. But little Bepi was not dismayed; he trusted in divine Providence and it was quick to come to his aid.

Cardinal Monico, the Patriarch of Venice at that time, had the privilege of nominating students for several free places in the seminary of Padua. When he was told of the plight of little Bepi Sarto, the Cardinal, who had himself been a poor boy of Riese, at once agreed to send him to the great seminary to continue his studies for the priesthood. So Bepi received the cassock, and was for eight years a student of Padua, doing all things well for the glory of God; striving all the time after that goal which was to be the ideal of his whole life-to be a holy priest. CURATE AND PARISH PRIEST

Once again Giuseppe Sarto passed along the road from Riese to Castelfranco, but to-day he did not notice the dust; he did not see the familiar landmarks which had relieved the monotony of the long road in his childhood. One thought filled his mind to the exclusion of everything else: “ To-day I shall be a priest of the Most High.” And he strained his eyes to catch a first glimpse of the old city where he was to be ordained.

For his mother that was the happiest day of her life. Many years afterwards, she was to see him clad in all the splendour of the Cardinalate, but her heart did not beat with the same intense joy as on that morning when he became one of the anointed of God-a priest.

A few days after his ordination he was appointed as curate to Don Antonio Costantini, the archpriest of Tombolo, a village of about 1,500 inhabitants. Don Antonio conceived an immediate liking for the young curate, and being a zealous man, determined that he should be as well prepared as possible to labour for souls. To this end he tried to form him in the ways of parish life, paying special attention to the criticism of his sermons, and showing him how he might improve his delivery and manner of address. But in private Don Antonio wrote delightedly to a friend: “ They have sent me a young priest as curate with orders to form him to the duties of a parish priest, but I assure you that it is likely to be the other way about. He is so zealous, so full of good sense and other precious gifts that I could learn much from him; one day or another he will wear the mitre, of that I am certain, and afterwards? . . . Who knows?”

Gradually Don Giuseppe acquired quite a reputation for his preaching, and the neighbouring towns strove to secure him for their special sermons. This success, however, had no effect on the young priest except to make him humble himself and give all the glory to God,. He saw in himself only a poor and unworthy disciple whom the Master was pleased to use as a humble instrument for the salvation of souls.

The young curate of such a parish did not receive much for his upkeep, but even out of his slender allowance he gave the greater part to the poor. He found it impossible to refuse them anything, so that time and time again he had to pawn his watch. As for the fees which he received for his sermons, he never returned to Tombolo with them in his pocket: they had gone to the relief of some poor soul on the way. When Don Antonio remonstrated with him and pointed out that he should save some for his mother, he would reply: “These poor people were in greater need than she; our Lord will provide for her also “ So great was his faith in divine Providence.

Don Antonio at this time had very bad health, and was often so weak that he could not even rise to say Mass. Accordingly, all the work of the parish fell upon the curate. But no one would have imagined that it was hard work for him, so cheerfully did he fulfil all his duties. He was at the beck and call of everyone, especially of the sick and needy, for affliction of every kind made a deep impression on his tender heart. Well might the people of Tombolo apply to him the words used with reference to his divine Master “Pertransiit benefaciendo!” He went about doing good.

In May, 1867, Don Giuseppe was appointed parish priest of Salzano, an important parish of over 4,500 inhabitants. The heart of Don Antonio was full of sorrow at the departure of his young curate, and the peasants of Tombolo were inconsolable. The people of Salzano, on the other hand, were surprised that a curate from such a place should have been chosen as their parish priest, for they expected that as usual some dignity of the diocese would receive the appointment. But when they had heard his first sermon their admiration knew no bounds. “What was the Bishop thinking of to leave a man like this buried for so long among the yokels of Tombolo?” they said.

It was not long before his new parishioners discovered that the virtues of their parish priest were not confined to his sermons. His warm heart opened out and gathered in his new children, and they, in their turn, seeing his Christ-like charity and care for their souls and bodies, responded accordingly. Although he was now receiving more money than he had done before it was not sufficient for his inexhaustible almsgiving, so that on many occasions he found himself with no food in the larder and no money to buy any. No wonder that his sister, Rosa, who kept house for him, was almost at her wits end!

His people often saw him early in the morning, opening the church doors and performing many of the humblest offices of the sacristan. “When I am old and infirm it will be the sacristan who will have to get up early,” he would say, laughingly.

In the year 1873, however, when cholera broke out, his self- consuming charity shone forth in all its splendour. He nursed and tended his beloved people; prepared the sick for death, administered the sacraments, and comforted the living. “If it had not been for Don Giuseppe I would have died of fear and sorrow,” said one old man years later.

Not even at night did he get any rest, for he had to attend the funerals of the victims of the plague, who could not be buried during the daytime on account of the infection. Sometimes it happened that he had to help to carry the coffin and to dig the graves himself.

It is quite certain that his strength could not have lasted much longer under so great a strain. Fortunately, the Bishop had already been informed of his too great exertions, so that at the earliest opportunity he was moved from Salzano.

CANON OF TREVISO

Once more a flock was deprived of the loving care of its pastor, but this time the people were consoled by the great honour which Don Giuseppe received. He was appointed Canon of the Cathedral of Treviso, Spiritual Director of the seminary, and Chancellor of the diocese.

As soon as he learned of the Bishop’s decision to promote him to the Canonry, he begged, with his customary humility, to be allowed to remain a simple parish priest. But the Bishop could not be persuaded to let him stay at Salzano, where he had been overworking and starving himself for his people. So Don Giuseppe went to Treviso and undertook his new labours cheerfully and with the self-sacrificing zeal which was characteristic of him. Perhaps the new work was not so congenial to him after the more active life at Tombolo and Salzano, but, if such was the case, he showed no sign of it. He did everything for the glory of God and not for his own satisfaction, so that he undertook every kind of work with the same cheerful readiness.

He threw himself with special ardour into his work as Spiritual Director for it was a task most dear to his heart, to form priests who would be worthy ministers of Christ and of His Church. As a professor who was there at the time tells us “ He never wandered into vain speculations, but was always most practical, striving to form priests who would be able to face the world and its difficulties; to evangelise, correct, instruct, and counsel the faithful.” His opening discourse to the students was remarkable for its humility:

“You expect to find in me a man of great experience, of profound ascetical and theological knowledge, but I have none, or practically none of these qualities; I am only a poor country parish priest, who has come here by the will of God; but just because I am here by the will of God you must resign yourselves to listening to the words even of a poor parish priest, and bear with me.”

From the famous Encyclical which, as Pope, he addressed to the priests of the world, we can gather some of the thoughts which he must have impressed on the minds of the students at Treviso.

“A priest cannot stand alone; for good or for evil, his life and behaviour necessarily affect his people, and when that life is truly good how great a blessing it is to them.”

“Since you are merely God’s instruments in the salvation of souls, these instruments must be such as He can handle. And why? Do you think that God uses us to further His glory because of any inborn excellence or of any qualities acquired by our own personal effort? Not so, for it is written: The foolish things of the world hath God chosen that He may confound the wise; and the weak things of the world hath God chosen that He may confound the strong; and the base things of the world, and the things that are contemptible, hath God chosen, and things that are not that He might bring to nought things that are.’ There is one thing, however, which unites man to God, one thing which makes him pleasing, and His not unworthy coadjutor, in the dispensation of His mercy, and this one thing is sanctity of life. If this holiness, which is the surpassing knowledge of Jesus Christ, be wanting to the priest, he lacks everything.”

Very soon an even greater burden was laid upon the shoulders of Monsignor Sarto. In 1879 the Bishop died and he was elected Vicar Capitular, so that to him fell the administration of the diocese while it remained vacant. He filled this office until June of the following year when Monsignor Callegari, the new Bishop, took possession of the diocese. Two years later, in 1882, Monsignor Callegari was succeeded by Monsignor Apollonio. Both of these Bishops appreciated to the full the sterling qualities of their Chancellor. They noticed with admiration the prudent and competent way in which he solved the most intricate problems of the diocese. They found in him not only an efficient administrator, but also a trusted companion and counsellor. Slowly but surely the reputation of Monsignor Sarto began to spread, even beyond the limits of the diocese, and men looked upon him as one who would before long be called to the episcopate.

One day a friend said to Monsignor Sarto: “There is one thing which I cannot understand.”

“What is that?”

“Why they do not realize at Rome that you have all the qualities necessary for a Bishop?”

“Do you think that that is the kind of thing you should wish for a friend?”

“And why not? Doesn’t St. Paul say . . .”

“Leave St. Paul alone! . . . The cross is a joyous burden so long as a priest wears it under his cassock; but as soon as he has to wear it outside, even though you attach it to a chain of gold, it becomes a real burden. Let us talk about something else.”

BISHOP OF MANTUA

It was towards the end of the summer of 1884 that Monsignor Apollonio summoned Monsignor Sarto one day to his private oratory.

“Let us kneel here before the Blessed Sacrament and pray about a matter which concerns us both.”

The poor Chancellor did not know what to think, and feared that something had happened at Riese; but when he had risen to his feet again, the Bishop said with emotion: “I am happy and yet at the same time sorry to tell you that the Holy Father has appointed you Bishop of Mantua.”

The humble soul of Monsignor Sarto was filled with dismay. Convinced as he was of his own unworthiness he felt that it was his duty to write to Pope Leo XIII and beg him to appoint some more suitable person. But his reputation had gone before him to the Vatican, and his efforts were of no avail. So, confessing his own weakness, and trusting in the divine strength to help him, he resigned himself to the will of God and set out for Rome.

After he had received episcopal consecration in the Eternal City, he returned to Treviso, where he remained for some time. Before taking possession of his diocese he addressed a letter to the Mayor of Mantua; it ended with these striking words: “Your new Bishop, poor in all things but rich in love, has no other desire than to procure the salvation of souls and to form among you one family of friends and brothers.

“For the advantage of souls I shall spare myself neither care, nor vigils, nor fatigues, and shall have nothing more at heart than your salvation. Perhaps someone will ask on what I am relying for the fulfilment of my promises. I reply: on hope . . . the hope of Christ . . . I can do all things in Him who strengtheneth me! “ Such was the message of the Bishop to his flock.

The new Bishop found Mantua in a lamentable condition. Innumerable political wrangles had uprooted all charity and brotherly love from among the citizens, and class was set against class. The people no longer observed the feast days, and were quite ignorant of Christian Doctrine. Many of the priests were imbued with the ideas of the “new Italy,” and had lost the ecclesiastical spirit: some of them had even gone so far as to embrace heretical doctrines and had made shipwreck of their faith.

Monsignor Sarto viewed with sorrow this terrible state into which his diocese had fallen, but did not allow himself to be disheartened. In exhorting his priests to join with him in fighting the evils which existed, he said: “Do not believe that there are such things as insurmountable difficulties; a strong will, a sincere love for the sacred ministry, as also an intelligent pastoral zeal, united to the grace of God, can accomplish everything.”

Under his firm but gentle rule Mantua became once again a city of peace and concord. The seminary, which had been in a sorry plight, was re-organised and put on a firm basis, so that before long it held as many as 147 students; the priests who had been neglectful of their flocks were brought back to a realization of their priestly duties, and the sheep who had strayed were brought back to the fold by their zealous pastor. Not even the hardest hearts could withstand the onslaught made upon them by the noble example of their Bishop. How true were the words of Leo XIII! “If the diocese of Mantua does not love its new pastor, it is a sign that it is incapable of loving anyone, for he is the most worthy and the most lovable of Bishops.”

One morning a knock was heard at the door of the Bishop’s palace. Monsignor Sarto went to open the door himself, as he had no servants and his sisters had not returned from Mass. He found a young Monsignor waiting outside who had come to ask for permission to make some researches in the diocesan archives. He had just been to say Mass in the cathedral.

“Then you have not yet had breakfast? You must let me get you a cup of coffee “-and the kindly Bishop led the young Monsignor into the kitchen.

Thus did the future Pius X prepare the breakfast of Monsignor Ratti, the future Pius XI.

The following episode illustrates the Christ-like charity of Monsignor Sarto while he was Bishop of Mantua.

A certain business man of Mantua wrote an anonymous pamphlet full of libels against his Bishop. It was not long, however, before the latter discovered the author of the scandalous document. “That poor man has more need of prayers than of punishment,” he replied to those who advised him to take legal action.

Shortly afterwards the same man found himself in great financial straits. His creditors wished to have him declared guilty of fraudulent business transactions. All seemed lost, when some anonymous person sent him the sum of money necessary to cover the large deficit. Afterwards it was discovered that the generous friend was Monsignor Sarto, the Bishop whom he had maligned.

In this way, by charity and gentleness, did the Bishop of Mantua conquer for Christ.

IN THE CITY OF THE LAGOONS

On the death of Cardinal Agostini, Patriarch of Venice, in 1891, Monsignor Apollonio was appointed to succeed him. Owing to his weak state of health he begged that he might be excused. The Pope agreed and nominated Monsignor Sarto as Patriarch in his stead. The dismayed prelate had no alternative but to accept, as the Cardinal Secretary of State had warned him beforehand that a refusal would be very displeasing to the Holy Father.

In the next Consistory, Monsignor Sarto, Bishop of Mantua, was raised to the Cardinalate and three days afterwards was promoted to the Patriarchate of Venice.

The new Patriarch found it impossible to take immediate possession of his diocese. On the pretext that the privileges conferred upon the Republic of Venice by the Papacy in times past had passed to the Italian Government, the latter claimed the right to nominate the Patriarch. They accordingly refused to recognize the appointment of Cardinal Sarto. In the meantime, the Cardinal returned to Mantua, intending to remain there until such time as it would be possible for him to go to Venice.

His first visit after his return was to Riese. Once again Giuseppe Sarto passed along the dusty road from Castelfranco, but this time as he entered his native village all the bells were ringing and the whole countryside had turned out to meet him. He recognised many old familiar faces, while the young people whom he did not know cried out to him, “I am the daughter of Bartolomeo who was your friend; give me your blessing! I am the son of Andrew, your comrade . . .” His fine eyes shone with pleasure as he looked round on them all, while the merry smile, which they had known so well, played on his lips. But there was one face missing from the crowd, and he hastened to the little cottage where his mother, now too old and infirm to go to meet him, was awaiting her son.

On the following day, which was Sunday, the Cardinal celebrated Mass for the people. After the Gospel he preached with such simplicity and feeling that many of the congregation were in tears. That night every house was decorated with lanterns and the whole village was filled with peasants from the outlying districts. It was a feast day in Riese.

On the third day he robed himself in all the glory of the Cardinalate, and went to show himself to his mother. As he stood by her humble bedside, a Prince of the Church, she wept for joy; yet her heart was full of sorrow, for she knew that this would be their last meeting on earth. Later in the day he embraced her tenderly for the last time, and so they parted; sadly, for the heart beneath the purple was as tender and as humble as ever.

At length, on the 24th of November, 1894, Cardinal Sarto made his entry into Venice. As he made a triumphal progress along the Grand Canal his launch was followed by a fleet of gondolas and boats of all descriptions, while the bridges and roofs were packed with a shouting and exultant multitude of citizens. Only the windows of the municipal buildings remained undecorated, and among the thousands of Venetians who went out, almost delirious with joy, to meet their Patriarch, the members of the anti-clerical municipality alone had no place.

The following day he addressed the people in these words: “I have not seen you before, but I will bear you all in my heart; parish priests, clergy, magistrates, nobles, rich men, sons of the people, and beggars, you are my family; my heart and my love are yours. From you I seek nothing but a corresponding affection. This is my only desire, that you will be able to say with all sincerity: our Patriarch is a man of upright intentions, who holds high the untarnished banner of the Vicar of Christ, who seeks nothing except to maintain and defend the truth and to do good.”

The new Patriarch set to work immediately to establish better relations between the civil authorities and himself. Although he was dealing with men who were bitter in their hatred of the Church he always acted towards them with the greatest charity. His first letter to the Mayor of Venice was a manifestation of his fearless and apostolic spirit.,

“Although our fields of action are far apart, in both of them we are striving after one end alone, namely, the good of the citizens. There can be no collision between the two powers since there is one Author of religion and of society. Accordingly, I hope to find in the representatives of the city the help which will render my pastoral duties less onerous. I hope for it and I feel sure of it.”

Within a short time he had organised the Catholic forces so well, besides winning over the more moderate members of the opposition to his side, that at the forthcoming election a government more worthy of so Catholic a people was elected.

The Venetians were not slow to realize what a treasure they had in their midst. When they saw the crowds of beggars and poor suppliants who flocked daily to the Patriarch’s door, knowing that here at least they would find help and sympathy, it seemed to them as though the days of the Apostles had returned. But even they could not perceive the depths of his simplicity and humility. When they saw the grand figure receiving the dignitaries of the State with becoming splendour they did not realise that as soon as the ceremony was over he would retire to his little study to set about the business of the day, a humble priest once more. Nor did the visitors who dined with him realise that it was only by the efforts of the Patriarch’s sisters that the table had been set so elegantly and the food so daintily prepared. When he was alone he dined as frugally as in the old days and in the simplest possible manner. Even as a Patriarch he had very little money to spare, so that every penny that he could save by stinting himself was so much the more to give to his beloved poor. Once again the Patriarch’s watch and ring found themselves in pawn, and the little presents which he had received disappeared one by one as some case more pitiful than the rest met his compassionate gaze.

When the Venetians saw the distinguished figure disappear into some miserable hovel or climb up the stone steps to a poverty- stricken attic, they would say to one another: “He never thinks of himself; he is wearing himself out for us.” So beloved was he by the rough gondoliers that his appearance among them was greeted by shouts of joy. “Here comes the Patriarch of the gondoliers,” they would cry.

The Eucharistic Congress, which was held at Venice in the month of August, 1879, gave Cardinal Sarto an opportunity of doing honour publicly to our Lord in the Holy Eucharist. His great love for the Blessed Sacrament manifested itself in his untiring efforts to make the Congress a great success, by fostering in the hearts of the people a fervent devotion for their Eucharistic Lord.

The people responded, and the Congress was the signal for an unparalleled outpouring of love for our Lord in the Blessed Sacrament. Never, even in the days of her glory, had Venice witnessed such scenes of splendour. As the final procession of the Blessed Sacrament passed by, men thought that they had never seen a sight so wonderful. Jesus Christ surrounded by His Cardinals, Bishops and priests, had come to reign among the people of Venice: they knelt in humble adoration, and the heart of the Patriarch was full of gratitude as he knelt with them to adore his Lord and Master.

ON THE CHAIR OF ST. PETER

The death of Leo XIII on July 20th, 1903, filled the whole world with sorrow, but no one mourned the dead Pontiff more than Cardinal Sarto. As he spoke of the virtues of the late Pope his eyes filled with tears. “If you only knew how much he had done for me. After our Lord I owe everything to him,” he said sorrowfully.

Six days afterwards he had to leave for the Conclave. At the same time he arranged to call for his sisters at Passagno on his way back from Rome. But his sisters, and indeed, the whole city, which turned out to greet him as he made his way to the station, seemed to have a premonition that they had seen him in Venice for the last time.

“Bless us once more,” they cried in a kind of anguish; and the eyes of the Patriarch were full of love as he turned to give one last blessing to his people.

“Come back! Come back!” they cried.

“Alive or dead I will come back.” But he was not to be seen again in the city of the Lagoons.

At eight o’clock on the evening of July 31st all the doors leading to the part of the Vatican where the Conclave was to be held were sealed up, not to be opened again until the Pope had been elected. In the Sistine Chapel, where the actual voting took place, thrones had been placed round the walls for the Cardinals. All was ready for the Conclave.

Next day after Mass the Cardinals assembled and the voting began. Each in turn wrote the name of his candidate on a piece of paper and then placed it in a chalice on the altar, at the same time taking the following oath: “I call to witness the Lord Christ, who will be my Judge, that I am naming the one whom before God I think ought to be elected.” A majority of two-thirds of the votes was required.

The results of the first three scrutinies were as follows: 1st scrutiny: Rampolla, 24; Goti, 17; Sarto, 5; other votes, 16–62. 2nd scrutiny: Rampolla, 29; Gotti, 16; Sarto, 10; other votes, 7- 62. 3rd scrutiny: Rampolla, 29; Sarto, 21; Gotti, 9; other votes, 3–62.

After the second scrutiny, when it seemed likely that Cardinal Rampolla would be elected, Cardinal Puzyna rose and delivered the veto of the Emperor of Austria against the election of Cardinal Rampolla.*

The Cardinals were astounded at this intolerable interference of the secular power, with the result that, far from the veto having the desired effect, the fourth scrutiny showed that the votes for Cardinal Rampolla had increased to 30. But the votes of Cardinal Sarto had also increased to 24. The humble Cardinal could stand it no longer and with tears in his eyes he begged the other Cardinals not to think of him, who was so unworthy of this, the highest dignity on earth.

At last it became quite obvious that before long he would be elected. After the fifth scrutiny the Cardinal Dean sent young Monsignor Merry del Val, the Secretary of the Conclave, to persuade Cardinal Sarto not to persist in his refusal. The young man entered the Pauline Chapel and found the Cardinal kneeling alone before the Blessed Sacrament, with his face buried in his hands. He approached quietly and communicated to him the message of the Cardinal Dean. The older man turned imploring eyes upon him, while the tears ran down his cheeks. “No, no, tell him, I beseech you, not to think of me: tell him to do me this kindness, not to think of me,” was his only reply.

But at the seventh scrutiny Cardinal Sarto was elected Pope, and with bowed head accepted the cross laid upon him. “If this chalice may not pass away, but I must drink it, Thy will be done,” he said in a low voice.

When he was asked what name he would take, he replied, “Because the Popes who have suffered most for the Church in these times have borne the name of Pius, I also will take that name.”

So on the 4th of August the windows on the balcony of St. Peter’s opened, and Cardinal Macchi appeared before the thousands assembled in the Piazza of St. Peter’s. In the breathless silence which followed he said in a clear voice: “I announce to you tidings of great joy: we have a Pope, the most eminent and most reverend Cardinal Sarto, who has taken the name of Pius X.” In the thunderous acclamation which followed this announcement only the great bell of the basilica could be heard sending forth the joyous news to the whole city. Habemus Pontificem.

No longer was Giuseppe Sarto the pastor and father of only one people. The paternal care which had strengthened and comforted so many must now be universal. His heart, which had embraced the villagers of Tombolo and the people of Salanzo, had been large enough to enfold the diocese of Mantua and the Patriarchate of Venice. It was now to become evident that his love for souls knew no bounds. His protecting arms were to encircle the whole world, his tender glance was to rest affectionately upon every nation under heaven. He was to be the good shepherd, solicitous for the sheep that had strayed, and strong enough to withstand every danger that might threaten his flock. The wolves, and there were to be many of them, would never find the sheep deserted; the shepherd would always be there, ready to lay down his life, if necessary, for his flock.

When the election of Cardinal Sarto to the Papacy was first made known, the enemies of the Church rejoiced, thinking that they would soon be able to bend to their own wills a man so simple and unversed in international diplomacy. But they were soon undeceived. When his first Encyclical sent forth this message and challenge to the

* One of the first acts of Pius X after his election to the Papacy was to abolish forever the right of veto. world they were compelled to admit that with Pius X at any rate gentleness did not spell weakness. Sanctity may mean unworldiness, but it does not necessarily signify ignorance of the world.

“There will be no lack of men who, measuring divine things by human standards, will try to penetrate the innermost purposes of Our mind, wresting them to earthly ends and the aims of parties. To cut off every vain hope of theirs We declare to them with all sincerity that in the midst of human society We desire to be nothing, and with the divine aid We will be nothing, but the minister of God, whose authority We bear. The interests of God will be Our interests and We are resolved to devote all Our strength and life itself to them. Therefore, if any one should ask Us for some phrase to express Our purpose, We will always give this one and no other: ‘To restore all things in Christ.’”

A few days after the election had taken place, Monsignor Merry del Val presented himself before the Pope in order to pay his respects to Pius X before leaving the Vatican. Now that the Conclave was over the Secretary had no reason for remaining there any longer.

“What! Monsignor, do you wish to abandon me?” asked the Pope kindly.

“No, Holy Father,” replied Monsignor Merry del Val with emotion, “I do not wish to leave Your Holiness, but my task is finished. The Secretary of State, whom Your Holiness will appoint, will take my place.”

“Come, come, Monsignor, remain here as Pro-Secretary of State until I have time to make my decision.”

Several days passed; the Pope consulted the Cardinals and finally appointed Monsignor Merry del Val as his Secretary of State, at the same time signifying his intention of creating him Cardinal at the next Consistory.

“Let us work together, let us suffer together for love of the Church,” were the words of Pius X to the young prelate. Thus were two noble souls joined together in one great work-the restoration of all things in Christ.

One of the first duties of the new Pope was to receive the members of the Diplomatic Corps accredited to the Holy See. After their audience with the Holy Father they proceeded to the Borgia apartments, where the Pro-Secretary of State was waiting to receive them.

“What impression did the audience make upon you?” inquired Monsignor Merry del Val. The answers which he received astounded him. When they were all seated the Prussian minister suddenly rose and put the question which was uppermost in the minds of them all: “What strange quality does this man possess which can attract us strongly?”

The keen observer and great historian, Baron von Pastor, asks the same question, but he tries to find the answer himself. “There are some men,” he writes,” who exercise so strong a fascination that no one can resist them. Among these chosen men we must number Pius X. It was not only his touching simplicity or his angelic goodness which conquered everyone: he united with these qualities a charm so irresistible that the only way to describe it is to say that everyone who came near to him felt that he was in the presence of a saint.”

The diplomats and great families were not the only ones who had the privilege of an audience with Pius X in those early days of the Pontificate. Every Sunday the people of each of the Roman parishes in turn came to the Vatican, and there the Pope received them in the open air, and preached them homely little sermons on the Gospels.

“The great parish priest of Rome and of the world,” writes Rene Bazin, “spoke like St. Peter, with power and love. Those who heard him, the poor and those who were not quite so poor, were deeply moved, perceiving how the Pope loved them. When he had finished speaking and had given them his blessing, they sang the hymn: ‘Noi vogliam Dio,’ and so departed, bearing in their minds a great picture: that of a Pope whose countenance shone with regal majesty and infinite tenderness, like the face of Jesus as he gave to the multitudes the treasures of His divine world.”

“Pius X,” writes Father Fachinetti, “ felt all the weight of the tiara and of the great responsibility which it signifies, and perhaps it was this which made him avoid all pomp even in the most solemn functions, at least as far as his own person was concerned. ‘ What a punishment ‘-he was heard exclaim one day-’ what a punishment to have to follow all these usages of Court! I feel like Jesus captured in the Garden when they lead me along surrounded by soldiers!’” Wilfred Ward saw him during one of the functions in St. Peter’s, and wrote: “His face amid the scene of triumph spoke of the vanity of all earthly glory. He had ever the look of one who is weighed down by the sins and sorrows of mankind-a look befitting the Vicar of Him of whom we speak as the Man of Sorrows.”

The heart of Pius X was often laden with sorrow. Day by day news reached him of persecutions in Spain and Portugal, in Russia and Germany, and he wept as he thought of the sufferings which his children had to undergo. But it was on France that he turned his most anxious gaze, for it was in that country that the enemies of the Church were making their greatest efforts to tear the people from their allegiance to the Vicar of Christ.

PIUS X AND FRANCE

For many years, even before the ascension of Pope Pius X to the throne of St. Peter, the anti-clerical governments of France in union with the French Freemasons had made it their aim to separate the Church and State, to seize the property of the Church and to make a complete and definite break with Rome.

With this end in view, religious instruction had been forbidden in the elementary schools, divorce was reestablished in the civil code, prayers at the opening of Parliament were abolished, members of Religious Orders were not allowed to teach in public schools, clerics were not to be exempted from military service, children were compelled to read irreligious books in the schools, officers in the Army and Navy and other public officials, who practised their religion, were refused promotion or dismissed from their posts.

This was the situation which Pius X was called upon to face. In a letter which he addressed to the President of the French Republic he protested against the injuries inflicted upon the Church and reminded him that these acts were violations of the Concordat signed by the Holy See and Napoleon I. M. Loubet replied by denying that the French Government had any intention of breaking the Concordat. This protestation brought no conviction with it, for it was obvious to everyone that the French Government was only waiting for an opportunity to break with Rome. As M. Combes said in the previous March: “To denounce the Concordat just now without having sufficiently prepared men’s minds for it, without having clearly proved that the Catholic clergy themselves are provoking it and rendering it inevitable, would be bad policy on the part of the Government, by reason of the resentment which might be caused in the country.”

It was not long before they managed to trump up an excuse.

About this time the Pope found it necessary to summon two French Bishops to Rome. The French Government, maintaining that the Pope had no right to correspond directly with any French prelates, pretended to find in this act a violation of the Concordat. Diplomatic relations with the Vatican were severed and on the 9th of December, 1905, the Law of Separation was passed, by which the annual revenue of the Church was suppressed, and lay “associations” were ordered to be set up in each parish to administer the Church property.

Then the Pope spoke: “We denounce and condemn this law passed in France on the separation of Church and State, as being injurious to God, whom it officially rejects by stating that the Republic should not recognise any cult. We denounce and condemn it because it violates the natural law, the law of nations, and the public fidelity which is owing to treaties. (We condemn it) as contrary to the divine constitution of the Church, to her essential rights and to her liberty . . . We denounce and condemn it because it is seriously injurious to the dignity of this Apostolic See, to Our person, to the Episcopate, to the clergy and to all French Catholics.”

The Pope then condemned in unequivocal terms the proposed “associations,” showing clearly that such lay administration would be most harmful to the Church.

The French Government replied to this condemnation by seizing all the property which remained to the Church, so that the clergy of France were rendered penniless.

Pius X had foreseen this and had deliberately rejected wealth and slavery, in favour of poverty with liberty. He had relied upon the fidelity of the French clergy and had called upon them to lose all for the good of the Church.

At a word from the Pope the Bishops gave up their palaces and the priests their presbyteries; their incomes were gone, so that they had to depend on the charity of the faithful for their sustenance. But in their poverty, the poverty of Christ, the Church in France found its freedom, so that a few years later a French writer could say: “Our Church is truly and entirely Roman; and, therefore, all these attacks on its members have no effect except to attach them more securely to the fount and centre of their life. The religious life is everywhere increasing in depth and in intensity.”

The anti-clericals had tried to stamp out the Church, but their very efforts in that direction had only made her spring up with renewed life; they had tried to bind her, but they had failed because the ropes which they used were the goods of this world, and upon the throne of St. Peter sat a man who despised the world and everything which it could offer.

PIUS X AND MODERNISM

We now come to what is always a sad page in the history of the Church-the defection of her own children.

Pius X had read with grave concern the writings of many intellectual men of various nations who were trying as they expressed it, to “modernise” the Church, “to form a new credo,” which, they thought, would be more in accordance with the discoveries of modern science. They wished to reject everything which they could not reconcile with their own preconceived ideas. They treated the Church not as an infallible and living body, but as some archaic document which they could change to suit their own convenience. But why should they respect the Church, the Mystical Body of Christ, when they rejected our Lord Himself? They attacked Revelation and the Gospels, denying, not only the authority and inspiration of the Holy Scripture, but the divinity, miracles and teaching of Jesus Christ Himself; nay, even the very demonstrability of the existence of God.

But they did not state all this in so many words: at least not at first. They were much more subtle than that. Sometimes, as was the case with the Abbe Loisy, they published under assumed names pamphlets and articles against the Church and her doctrines, although at the same time they posed to the outside world as loyal sons of the Catholic Church.

But their tricks and stratagems could not deceive the vigilant Pontiff, who saw, under their protestations of loyalty, the spectre of heresy which lay hidden in their souls. On the 15th of April 1906, in a letter full of heavenly wisdom, Pius X defined Modernism as “the synthesis and poison of all heresies”: on the 3rd of July, 1907, he denounced as heretical 65 of the Modernist doctrines, and, finally on the 8th of September came the Encyclical, “Pascendi dominici gregis,” like a roll of thunder throughout the Catholic world. With calm and measured words it tore the veil from the concealed heresies of the Modernists, and exposed their insidious doctrines to the light of day.

In an Encyclical Letter, which he wrote for the Centenary of St. Anselm, Pius X has the following momentous passage: “The Modernists fell into so great a pit, not because they possessed a profound and solid culture, for in reality there can be no opposition between reason and the faith. The true cause was this: they had an extraordinary opinion of themselves.” And, as he wrote in another Encyclical, “True reformers are distinguished from false ones in this, that the latter seek their own good and not that of Christ.”

With words of fire Pius X had cast out the serpent.

THE POPE OF THE BLESSED SACRAMENT

The Blessed sacrament is and has always been the centre and mainspring of the Christian Life. The Apostles, gathered round the supper table, received from Our Lord His Body and Blood, and were united most closely with Him, and through Him with each other. The early Christians, dispersed by persecution, nevertheless met in the catacombs around the Eucharist table and were joined together once more by the sweet bond of Christ. From the Holy Eucharist they drew the strength and comfort which they needed, just as millions of Christians were to do after them.

Wherever devotion to the Blessed Sacrament waxed strong the Faith burned with a clear and steady flame, but where this devotion was lacking the Christian life lost its inspiration and grew cold. Time and time again the devil had attempted to crush this love for the Eucharist, but his efforts had all met with failure. Persecution had broken out and churches had been destroyed, but Catholics had met in cellars and on the bleak hillsides, risking life and fortune, in order to receive their Eucharistic Lord. Heretics had denied the Real Presence of Our Lord in the Blessed Sacrament and had tried to poison the minds of men with their doctrines, but the lamp of faith was not extinguished and the Catholic people still approached the altar rails to receive the Bread of Life.

Then a new heresy arose; a much more subtle and dangerous heresy, for it made its appeal to the very reverence which Catholics had for the Holy Eucharist. Under a pretext of respect due to God, the Jansenists, for so the new heretics were called, demanded such conditions of perfection from the faithful before they could approach the Sacrament of the Altar, that it would have been impossible for most Catholics ever to receive Holy Communion.

The results of the heresy were widespread, and this despite the repeated condemnations of the Popes. Frequent Communion became an almost unheard of thing, and, as for the children, they were not allowed to make their first Holy Communion until their 12th or 14th year, with the result that many died without receiving the Holy Viaticum.

This deplorable attitude towards the Blessed Sacrament lasted for more than two centuries, so that even when the twentieth century dawned there were still to be found priests of the old school who were unwilling to give Holy Communion frequently to their people.

As Bishop of Mantua, Monsignor Sarto had striven vigorously to uproot the last traces of Jansenism from his diocese, and had unceasingly urged his priests to remember the words of our Lord: “Unless ye eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink His Blood ye shall not have life in you,” reminding them that it had been the custom in the early Church for the faithful to communicate frequently, even daily.

But when he became Pope he no longer urged and begged that the people might be given the Bread of Life: he authoritatively put an end to all controversy and commanded that the faithful should be brought back to the practice of frequent Communion.

“Frequent and daily Communion since it is a thing most desired by Jesus Christ and His Church, cannot be denied to the faithful so long as they are in a state of grace and have the right intention, which consists in an ardent desire to please God, to unite oneself more closely with Him, and to make use of this remedy against the weaknesses and defects of human nature. And, although it is most desirable that those who receive Communion frequently should be free from venial sins, at least from those that are fully deliberate . . . nevertheless it is sufficient if they are free from mortal sins and have a firm resolve not to commit any in the future.”

This first decree on Frequent Communion evoked a storm of criticism. Even good and learned men murmured against it and openly accused the Pope of indiscretion, fearing that it would lead to a decrease of reverence for the Blessed Sacrament. The Pope replied by pointing out that the primary reason for the institution of the Holy Eucharist was not that men might show honour to God, but that they might receive, through this close union with Christ, strength to conquer concupiscence, to wash out little everyday faults and to avoid the grave sins to which they might be tempted. So, undismayed by their criticism, he set out bravely once again to complete this part of his restoration of all things in Christ and issued a special invitation to the children, so that they also might be brought to the feet of Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament. He did this by means of two further decrees.

The first decree established the right of all children to communicate frequently as soon as they had made their first Holy Communion; the second, the famous decree, “Quam Singulari,” fixed the age at which children should be allowed to make their first Holy Communion at the age of discretion; that is, the age when they can distinguish between ordinary bread and the Bread of Life. This, the decree stated, would normally be about the seventh year; of course it might be much earlier than that. All the biographers of Pius X describe how an English lady, together with her little boy of four years, received a private audience with the Holy Father.

The Pope watched him attentively and then, drawing the child to him, inquired how old he was.

“He is only four, Your Holiness.”

The Pope turned to the child and asked gently: “Whom do you receive in Holy Communion? “

“Jesus Christ!”

“And who is Jesus Christ?”

“Jesus Christ is God,” answered the child without hesitation. The Pope was delighted. “Bring him to me tomorrow and I will give him his first Holy Communion myself.”

The good effects of the Eucharistic decrees of Pius X, which constitute, as Rene Bazin says, “one of the greatest acts of the Papacy at all times,” became most evident in the increased and ever-increasing love for our Lord in the Blessed Sacrament which manifested itself all over the world. At the Vatican hundreds of letters were received from people of all classes, including many from children who wrote to thank the Vicar of Christ for giving Jesus to them. They delighted the heart of the aged Pontiff who read them all with tears of thankfulness that he had been chosen as the humble instrument of bringing Jesus into their hearts.

Undoubtedly one of the happiest days of his life was when, in the spring of 1912, four hundred little first Communicants came from France to thank the Pope personally in the name of the children of France. Their audience with the angelic Pontiff made a lasting impression on them. They had not been at all shy-they said- that had not been possible, he was so kind. “ There were tears in his eyes; but many of us cried too.” Almost all who could get near enough to speak to him asked him for some favour: Heal my sister, Holy Father; convert my father; I want to be a priest; and I a missionary. It must have been like that when the people flocked round Jesus in Galilee.

“Suffer little children to come unto me,” had been the words of our divine Saviour. Pius X, in leading them to the feet of Jesus, received from His divine Master an aureola of glory which will surround his name for ever.

“The Pope of the Eucharist”: “the Pope of the Blessed Sacrament”: could there be more glorious titles?

THE WONDER WORKER

“These signs shall follow them that believe: In my name they shall cast out devils. . . . They shall lay their hands upon the sick and they shall recover.” This was the final promise of our divine Lord to the Apostles. It does not astonish us then when we read in the Acts of the Apostles that the people of Judea “ brought forth their sick into the streets and laid them on beds and couches, that, when Peter came, his shadow at the least might overshadow any of them and they might be delivered from their infirmities.” Why therefore should we be astonished if nineteen centuries later the 258th successor of St. Peter brought the sick back to health by the power of his word and healed the infirm with the touch of his garment?

It had already been murmured at Mantua and at Venice that the saintly Bishop and Cardinal had laid his hands upon the sick whom he visited, and that many of them had recovered immediately. When he was elected Pope, and prodigies of the same nature were witnessed by hundreds of people in audience, it was not so easy as it had been before to hush them up. Before long all Rome spoke of the graces and miracles which had been obtained by his prayers or by his blessing.

Pius X turned away with some laughing remark all references to these marvellous happenings. “At present,” he said on one occasion, “they are saying in the newspapers that I am working miracles, as though I have nothing else to do.” But when they insisted he said quietly: “I have nothing to do with it; it is the power of the keys.”

On the 8th of September, 1912, the wife of the Belgian Consul in Rome went to the Vatican to ask the Pope to bless her husband, who for a long time had been suffering from a malignant disease. The Holy Father raised his eyes to heaven: “Have faith, have faith, my child; the Lord will hear you.” She hurried home and found her husband waiting to tell her the joyful news that he was completely cured.

On another occasion a poor man who was paralysed went to one of the public audiences. When the Pope drew near, he implored him to heal him. The Pope smiled kindly and touched the crippled arm, saying in a gentle voice: “Yes, yes, yes!” At the same moment the man felt a strange sensation in his arm. Hardly daring to hope, he tried to raise it and found to his amazement that it had regained all its vigour. Before he could cry out with joy the Pope motioned to him to keep quiet. Then, blessing him once more, Pius X moved on in silence.

In the diocese of Nimes in France lived a little girl who had been paralysed from birth so that she could make no movement except with her lips. In the year 1909 her parents took her to Rome, as she had expressed a wish to go there. In her own mind she was convinced that if she could speak to Pius X she would be cured.

Her father took her to a public audience, unconscious of her purpose. When she had kissed the Pope’s ring the child said trustingly: “Holy Father, I have a favour to ask.”

“May God grant you all that you desire,” replied the Pope simply. At these words the child sat up and immediately walked down the audience hall, to the amazement of the people present.

In Spain there was a nun who for fifteen years had had cancer of the stomach. Eventually it spread to the throat and prevented her from taking food, so that her life was despaired of. But she applied a collar worn by Pius X to the affected part and drank a few drops of water in which she had placed a few threads drawn from another relic of the Pope.

Within a few days the cancer had disappeared.

Miracles do not make saints, but they make manifest their singular virtue and the power and efficacy of their intercession with God. Whether the wonders worked at the Vatican by the saintly Pontiff were true miracles it was for the Church to decide. Miracles were not needed to make men realise the astonishing sanctity of Pius X. His whole life spoke of the heights of perfection which he had reached. Poor with the poverty of Christ, humble with the humility of Christ, meek with the meekness of Christ, his soul was a flame of fire which swept the earth and kindled the love of God wherever it went. He was a man “ beloved by God and men, whose memory will be held in benediction.” THE DEATH OF THE POPE

On 2nd June, 1914, Pius X entered his eightieth year. It was to be a year of suffering for him. The war clouds were gathering on the horizon. “1914 will not pass without the outbreak of war,” he said to Cardinal Merry del Val. And on another occasion: “I would willingly give my life if I could banish this horrible scourge.”

On 28th June, the vigil of the feast of SS. Peter and Paul, a telegram arrived from the Nuncio in Vienna bearing the news of the assassination of the Archduke Francis of Austria. Pius X realised the full significance of the tragedy. “Here is the spark which will start the blaze,” he said sorrowfully. That evening he went down into St. Peter’s to pray before the tomb of the Apostle. “We go to pray for the dead also,” he said. Slowly and sadly he made his way to the Confessional, blessing with a weary hand the few guards who remained in the great basilica. Alone he knelt before the tomb of the Fisherman and poured forth his soul in prayer, imploring his divine Master to spare His people.

A few days afterwards the aged Pontiff was taken ill. “May the will of God be done,” he said, “I believe that all is over.” On the 18th of August he received Holy Viaticum. He lost his power of speech, but his eyes were fixed on the figure of our Lord on the cross. For a long time he held the hands of the Secretary of State, who had served him so faithfully and so well. The great Cardinal was overwhelmed with grief. At a quarter past one on the morning of the 20th of August the pure soul of Pius X passed to its eternal reward.

In the years since Pius X died, the fame of his sanctity has spread to the ends of the earth and many countries have striven to outdo one another in honouring his memory. The miracles attributed to him in Rome during his lifetime were few in comparison with those reported throughout the world after his death. His tomb in the Crypt of St. Peter’s became a place of pilgrimage for countless thousands of all nationalities and petitions for his Beatification poured in from every corner of the earth. His Cause, introduced in 1923, proceeded slowly but surely. The war retarded its progress but as soon as the conflict ended and the Apostolic process began in Rome, it was rapidly brought to a happy conclusion. On June the 3rd, 1951, only 37 years after his death, Pius X was Beatified, to the joy of the whole Catholic world.

Three years later, on 29th May, 1954, Pope Pius XII, the Pastor Angelicus, descended into the Basilica of St. Peter’s, to announce solemnly and authoritatively that his beloved predecessor, Pius X, was to be venerated as a Saint.

Of the 262 Popes who have sat in the Chair of Peter, 76 are Saints and 7 Beatified. Of the 76, no fewer than 30 were martyred. In the last 700 years only seven Popes-Blessed Gregory X (1271), Blessed Innocent V. (1276), Saint Celestine (1294), Blessed Benedict XI. (1303), Blessed Urban V. (1362), Saint Pius V. (1712), and, finally, Saint Pius X, have been raised to the honours of the Altar.

The author desires it to be understood that unless where he expressly states that the Church or the Holy See has recognised the truth of miracles or other supernatural manifestations referred to in the following pages, he claims no credence for them beyond what the available historical evidence may warrant.

Nihil Obstat:

JOSEPH P. NEWTH, C.C., Censor Theol. Deput.

Imprimi Potcst:

@ IOANNES CAROLUS, Archiep. Dublinen., Hiberniae Primas.

Dublini, die 70, Jan., anno 1962.

********

Saint Pius X

POPE OF THE EUCHARIST

REV. D. G. BYRNE

INDEX

The car swished up to the kerb and came to a halt. The rain was falling more heavily, thought Father Lawrence, as he turned off the ignition. Of all the nights a man chooses to go out he picks this one! Still, he had promised the Mortons so often in the past that he would be over, and something had always happened to prevent him. There was the time when he was all set to come and a non-Catholic enquirer had called in unexpectedly just as he was on the point of leaving. Again, the curate had come home witha bout of “flu, and he had to stay on duty. Another time old Mrs. Murphy had a stroke- her last, poor soul- and he had to ring up and. . . . . No, he had slipped them up too often in the past, and now a mere drop of rain wasn’t going to keep him away. Besides, he always enjoyed himself when he went to Mortons. Perhaps the world was falling to pieces, but people like the Mortons gave one hope for the future. Mary and Frank had been married only eight years; soon after the war it was; and the first years had not been easy for them. They had four sturdy children now, and were a real credit to their religion and their Catholic way of life. Pity there weren’t more like them!

He slammed the door of the car and made up the path towards the verandah.

Br . . . rr.—r.

The door was opened by a young woman in her late twenties. Nobody would believe that Mary Morton was the mother of four children, thought the priest.

“Oh, it’s you, Father, I”m so glad you were able to come. What a night you chose, though,” she laughed, “here, let me take your coat and hat; you must be frozen.”

The priest unbuttoned his overcoat. He was not a young man by any means and his thirty years as a priest had aged him in many ways. “It is rather cold,” he agreed, “that’s a nice fire burning away in there!” He nodded towards the living room.

“Yes, come on in, Frank will be here in a minute; he is just getting some more wood.” . . .”By the way,” she added confidentially, “Mother has just dropped in. We were having a few words just before you arrived. It started over young Tony of all people, perhaps you could persuade her.”

The back door shut to and Frank Morton appeared, carrying an armful of wood. “Good night, Father,” he called airily, “It’s good to see you.”

“I was just talking about Mother, Frank.”

Frank smiled ruefully. “You know, Father, some people can never be convinced. But what are we standing out here for? Come on inside. The baby is in bed, but the rest of the children are up; we told them they could stay up and see you.”

“Now,” said the priest, “what’s all the trouble?”“

Mrs. O”Shaughnessy, Mary’s mother, immediately assumed command. “It’s young Tony, Father. As you know, he is to receive his First Communion next month, and. ., well, I think he is too young. Why, when I was girl, no one would. . . . .”

Father Lawrence stroked his chin, a characteristic action of his. Mrs. O”Shaughnessy had the best intentions in the world, of course, but why, oh why did she try to bring up her own daughter’s children.

“Yes, Mrs. O”Shaughnessy,” he interrupted good humouredly, “when you were a girl—when we both were young for that matter- children didn’t receive Holy Communion until they were ten or eleven. But, honestly, looking back, do you really think it was a good thing? You forget that it was Christ Himself who said “Suffer the little ones to come unto Me, and prevent them not.” Why weren’t they allowed to receive Our Lord into their hearts when, in fact, they had been ready years previously?

“You see,” he continued, “it all arose from a wrong idea of what Communion is. When Christ instituted the

Eucharist, He was not so much seeking His own glory; what He wanted was to make man holier. Holy Communion is not meant to be a reward for virtue; it is a spiritual nourishment- in plain English, food for the soul. That has always been the mind of the Church, who advises all, young and old, to receive Communion provided they have the right intention. However, a bad custom grew up in Europe, and especially in France, of making children wait for many years, until early this century. somebody changed all that.”

Margaret, aged six, and Vin, aged four, had been quiet all this time.

“Who was that, Father?” they suddenly asked in chorus.

“Aw,” crowed Tony importantly. “everyone knows that; Sister Clare was talking about him at Communion class this morning.”

“Tell us about him,Father,” piped in Margaret and Vin,”please!”

“Careful, Father,” grinned Frank Morton,”you know what these kids of mine are like.”

Father Lawrence gazed into the fire. “Well, his name is in the news these days,” he said feeling for his pipe, “and besides, his life may have interest for you older children too!”

ONCE UPON A TIME . .

“Well, to begin with, his name was Giuseppe Sarto—in English that would be Joseph Taylor- Sarto being the Italian for Tailor- but you wouldn’t know him by that name, though you all have heard of him, for it was this little lad Giuseppe who later became the famous Pius X. Anyway, young Giuseppe was born in the village of Riese in Northern Italy- Venetia it was—on 2nd June, 1835 . . . His father was the local postman, and he had to struggle pretty hard to feed and clothe his family of ten- four boys and six girls. The Sartos were what you might call a model Christian family and like good Catholic parents the world over they brought up their children with a great love of God and His holy Mother- and just as they co-operated with God in bringing their eldest son into the world and training him, I am sure they are now sharing his glory in heaven.”

“You know, Father,” Frank Morton reflected, “occasionally I do get the urge to read the lives of saints and other holy people, but, oh, I don’t know! All that praying, and those fasts and the rest. Well, I couldn’t imagine myself doing all that sort of thing.”

“I know what you mean,” smiled Father sympathetically, “some saints did lead extraordinary lives and they are to be admired, but not imitated! God, you know, raises up all the saints, and the more austere ones seem to have been placed in those times when the majority of the people were leading very loose lives. Perhaps God wanted to shock these people into a holier way of life by putting in their midst one whose life was a direct contrast to theirs. But not all saints were of that sort. Look at St. John Bosco, or the Little Flower- saints who did the ordinary things that we have to do, but with this difference- they did the ordinary things extraordinarily well. We can both admire and imitate them. Giuseppe Sarto was, thank God, one of these- he was like many young Venetian boys; he worked hard, always enjoyed a joke and, it seems, was not above raiding a neighbour’s cherry orchard now and again.”

Tony’s eyes opened wide. “He’s no different from the kids around here, then?”“

“He improved later, though, Tony,” winked the priest. “When he was old enough he became an Altar boy, like many a young Australians today. Even at this age he liked to drop in and talk to Our Lord in the Blessed Sacrament; perhaps this was the beginning of. His lifelong devotion to the Blessed Eucharist.”

Father Lawrence lit his pipe and blew the smoke out slowly- deliberately. “Yes, the Sartos were poor people, and young Joseph had to tramp over four miles to school every day, his lunch stuffed inside his shirt and his shoes strung around his neck to save the leather. Later on, things got a little better, and he and his brother were given a donkey and cart.

VOCATION

“That briefly sums up the childhood of the future Pope. By now, Joseph was a youth of seventeen, and it was high time he decided on a career. He had done well at school, really well we are told, and had topped his class at the secondary school at Castelfranco. During his last years at school, the thought of the Priesthood had presented itself. But the Priesthood involves long years of training and training involves expense, and in a family such as the Sartos, every penny had to be considered. It seemed as though he would have to put the thought of becoming a priest, out of his head.”

Frank butted his cigarette: “But Father, surely, if God gave a man a vocation, the man would be bound to follow it up,- and God would somehow find the means.”

“A good point, Frank; but are you sure you have the correct idea on vocations?”

“Yes, Father, I think so. God gives the call to certain men to become priests, and they answer that call. That is what “Vocation” means, isn’t it—A calling?”

Father Lawrence paused before answering. “If you mean that a man will hear an interior voice: “Come, follow Me,”—you are wrong. There is only one audible vocation given by God, and the priest hears it on his Ordination morning, when the young Deacon hears the words: “Accedant qui ordinandi sunt”—“Let those to be ordained, come forward.” Now the bishop is bound to make enquiries about the men he is going to ordain. He must be sure that the candidate has certain qualities, and if these are present, he may lawfully ordain him.”

“What are those qualities, Father?” asked Mrs. Morton.

“Well, the Code of Canon Law- that is, the book of laws that govern the Church says that the candidate must have sufficient learning, sound morals, good health, no impediments and what is called a supernatural motive- that is just an involved way of saying that the motive must be concerned with God in some way. For instance, if I wanted to be a priest in order to win esteem from my fellow men, then that obviously would not be a supernatural motive! This is what the Church requires when she talks of a vocation.”

“Yes, Father, I can see that,” said Frank, “it seems that I did have the wrong slant on vocations. I thought there would be some sort of supernatural attraction or an invitation from God to become a priest.”

“There is no mention of it in Canon Law, Frank. At the same time, there may have been especially chosen souls who got some sort of divine message, but for the general run of us, positively no! And if the average young man expects to hear an angelic voice in his ear, he is going to be disappointed. The only signs of a vocation are the five things I mentioned earlier, and all the desires in the world will make no difference if any of these are missing. That is the Church’s teaching on the subject and, as we shall see later, it was the view on vocations formally approved by Pius X.

“To return to Giuseppe Sarto; he had the five essential requirements but, unfortunately, no money. He had offered himself to God for a life of service and God wasn’t going to be put out by a small consideration like expense. Besides, he had special designs on this youth.”

“As often happens, God works through human agents to bring about His plans and that’s what happened in the case of young Sarto. Joseph’s parish priest, Don Tito Fusarina, was a great friend of the Prefect of Studies at the Seminary of Treviso, so he asked the Prefect to put Joseph’s case to the Patriarch of Venice. The Cardinal himself was a peasant’s son from Joseph’s own village. This, combined with the fact that Joseph had passed with honours in every subject in his examinations, was too much for the Cardinal, and Giuseppe Sarto was awarded a free scholarship at the Seminary of Padua.

AT PADUA

“Everything was now ready for him to begin his seminary course with its Philosophy, Theology, Canon Law, Ecclesiastical History and all the rest. In all the things he tackled, he set himself to do the job in hand and he mastered them all.”

Father Lawrence paused. “You know the old saying: “Genius is 1% inspiration and 99% perspiration,” and I think there is a lot in it. We often look at the results forget about the work spent in getting them, and so when you hear of brilliant young student, Joseph Sarto, graduating with honours each year at the Seminary don’t forget the hard work he had to put in to get these results.

“W e are told he was a model seminarian, but don’t get the idea that he was in any way narrow-minded. He was in love with God and he quickly learned that the best way to please God was through obedience. He knew that whatever his superiors told him, that was what God wanted him to do; so he did it! And he did it with a liveliness and naturalness that won him the esteem of all in the Seminary. Later he could say, “Before one commands, it is necessary first to have learned how to obey.”

“Here in the Seminary he first acquired his taste for Gregorian Chant. At that time Gregorian Chant had almost completely lost its popularity and had been replaced by a more operatic form of music. Oh, good music it certainly was, but not very conducive to prayer. Later on he became choirmaster and perhaps it was the experience he gained in this capacity that was the beginning of the reforms which, later on as Pope, he introduced into Church music.”

“Joseph often remarked in later life that his happiest years were those spen t in the Seminary at Padua. However, that happiness was overshadowed by an event which seriously threatened his career as a priest. His father became ill and died, leaving his wife and family in very poor circumstances. His mother would not be able to provide for such a large family and he being the eldest, would have to help out. His mother would not hear of it. The younger boys were growing up, and would soon be able to do their share. Meanwhile she would see that the family would not go without.”

The priest tapped his pipe gently against the ashtray. “You know,” he said, “it is the Margherita Sartos’ who are the backbone of the Church! The valiant women that one reads about in the Book of Wisdom! One day someone should write a book on these women—Blanche of Castile; Margherita Bosco; Margherita Sarto . . . for it is they who pointed out the way their saintly sons were to follow. Our Divine Lord placed his own Mother over the angels in heaven, and these mothers, too, I am sure, will have places in paradise comparable with their sons; they certainly deserve it!

“But where are we? Oh yes, well by now it was 1858 and Ordination time was approaching. But Joseph was only twenty-three and because the age for Ordination is twenty-four, he had to get a dispensation to be ordained that year. On September 18th, 1858 he was ordained priest at the Cathedral of Castelfranco. Here he received from the Bishop the power to perform the greatest act possible for man- the power of offering God the Son to His Eternal Father; of uttering the words “I absolve you”—and the next day he returned to Riese, along the road where as a boy he walked with shoes strung around his neck, along the street he knew so well, to the Church he had loved so much- and there he offered his first Holy Mass.”

Father Lawrence paused. “You know, not even a wedding day can be as happy as the day on which a priest says his first Mass. Few engagements have lasted so long; no preparation is so intense; and then the great day arrives when he holds a piece of bread in his hands and perhaps for the first time realizes the tremendous power behind the words “For This Is My Body”.”

There was a silence . . .

“I have become rather eloquent, I”m afraid,” grinned the priest, “but the joy of Ordination time is unforgettable. And so it was with Joseph Sarto- even forty years later, as Pope, he would speak with feeling of the rough, hardworking peasant folk who knelt at the feet of the young “Ordinatus” to receive his benediction. . . .”

FIRST APPOINTMENT

“Well, after ordination a priest receives his first appointment, and in due course, Father Giuseppe Sarto was sent as curate to the village of Tombolo, a pretty little place it was in hilly, well-timbered country and the people were mainly dairy farmers. They were hard working and they had a vice not altogether unknown in our own country—they were inveterate swearers Not that they meant anything by it, I am sure, but they had grown up amid it. Father Sarto set out to check the habit and his method was simple. He opened a school for his people- the adults as well as the children—and all could be enrolled provided each “pupil” gave up his habit of swearing. That was his condition, and the people accepted him on his terms. Thus he was able to achieve in a comparatively short time what could only be effected after many years of preaching and persuading.

SALZANO

“After a while he was moved to another village where he was made Parish Priest. Salzano was the name of it and here, as at Tombolo, he gave himself heart and soul to his flock. Soon after he arrived, there was a serious outbreak of cholera. A nineteenth century Italian village did not boast social service facilities, and the new parish priest became its doctor, nurse and sanitary inspector.

“I like this part of his life best. He worked by day attending the sick and dying, and by night burying the dead- and even digging their graves. No wonder he had such power over his people. Gifted orator he certainly was, but it was the kindness of Father Sartothat spoke far more forcefully.”

CANON AND BISHOP

The pastor leaned back. “If you were to ask me what was the most outstanding quality of Joseph Sarto, I would say it was his generosity; a generosity that sprang from a genuine and great love. He loved Christ; he saw all men in Christ—members of His Body- and because he gave Himself heart and soul to Christ, he gave himself to men-Christ’s members! At Treviso, where in 1875 he was moved as Canon, his generosity was still a by-word, especially at the Seminary where he was appointed Spiritual Director. Many of the poorer students were helped financially, with the result that the Canon himself was nearly always penniless. At the Seminary he corrected many abuses that had unfortunately crept in and in this he was motivated by a burning zeal for good and holy priests. He was greatly respected here at the Seminary of Treviso; so much so that when his time came to leave he felt that a general farewell would be too painful. Instead he gave a letter to the Rector of the Seminary:

“Tell them I keep them all in my heart, and that they must pray for me”, he said. Then, slipping unnoticed out of the house, he went to meet the carriage ordered for him and left for Mantua.

BISHOP OF MANTUA

“We shall see later that Pius X took as his motto. “Instaurare Omnia In Christo”-”To restore all things in Christ.” Really, it was something he carried with him through life. As Bishop of Mantua, he had ample opportunity to practise it. The clergy and people were divided; the recently founded Seminary was almost empty of students; many parishes were without priests, and parish priests were often neglecting their duties. Immediately he set about his work of restoration. He was able to increase the Seminarians to one hundred and forty-seven; he reformed the clergy; he started Sodalities; he set up charitable institutions; he re-introduced Gregorian Chant into Church music; he taught the catechism.

“But not only that. The Government was for a large part anti -clerical, a not uncommon state of affairs in nineteenth century Italy, and he did his best to establish friendly relations with the State. His letter to the Mayor was typical of him: “Your new bishop,” he wrote, “poor in everything else, but rich in his love for his flock has no other object than to work for the salvation of souls, and from among you one family of friends and brothers.” Even though the Government was Masonic and often bitterly antagonistic, he saw it as the lawfully constituted authority, to be followed in all things not contrary to faith and morals. But when they overstepped that authority- as later happened in the case of France- he was emphatic in his denunciation, and decisive in his action.

PRINCE OF THE CHURCH

“Still greater honours were destined for Bishop Sarto. He had been renowned throughout Mantua for his piety and zeal, and on the death of Cardinal Agostino, Patriarch of Venice, in 1893, he was chosen as his successor. But it was sixteen months before he was able to take possession of his See. The reason for this was that the Italian Government claimed the right to nominate the new Patriarch-a right which of course they in no way possessed-and they refused to recognize Cardinal Sarto’s appointment. The Municipality of Venicebacked up the Government’s action since they too were bitterly anti-clerical, and only too glad to show their hostility to the Church. By September, 1894, the growing indignation of the Venetians made the Government relent, and in due course, the appointment was confirmed, and Cardinal Sarto arrived in Venice to receive a tremendous welcome from the people. The guns of the arsenal boomed out in salute; then as he stepped into the magnificent launch which carried him to St. Mark’s, all the bells of the city rang out. Every balcony was thronged with cheering crowds; every building bedecked with flags and streamers-with the exception, that is, of the governmental buildings-for the Government was determined to show its opposition to the new Patriarch.”

The priest reached for a poker to retrieve a log, which was on the point of falling on to the hearth. He prodded it, and they watched the sparks as they raced upwards and disappeared.

“What shall I tell you about him during this time? Of the magnificent Eucharistic Congress, the equal of which Venice has never since seen? Of his attempts to come to peaceful terms with the Government for the most part masonic, and at length succeeding, by the sheer weight of his personality. Of the rebuilding of the Bell Tower of St. Mark’s?—you’ll get that in any life of Pius X-and he no doubt deserves to live on for those great achievements. But I like to think of him as the man who visited the slums of Venice, the hospitals and prisons. I like to think of him spending long hours in prayer, of leading the humble life of a peasant, insofar as he could; of pawning his watch, yes, and even his episcopal ring to obtain money for the needy. You see, it was in doing this that he imitated his Master, and it was this that endeared him to the hearts of his people-and helped to make him what he is today, one of the Blessed in Heaven.”

THE CONCLAVE

There was a silence, but his audience did not press him. It was good to hear Father telling a story. “I”m getting oratorical again,” Father Lawrence confessed. “But as you can probably guess, Pius X is a favourite of mine, and one of the great lessons he teaches me is that the way to sanctity lies in doing all our daily duties, and doing them well. The Little flower called this round of daily tasks her “Little Way.” That I think is a very happy expression. because in our daily lives, there are only the little common humdrum tasks. Not much splash; not much success. Yet it is through these things you and I are going to get holier.”

Frank’s eyes sparkled. “Do you mean, Father, that I”m going to get to heaven by my office work, and digging my garden and shopping wood?”

“By those and your religious duties as well; your Sunday Mass and your prayers. You see, the ordinary things of our lives are very, very important.”

Father let this point sink in, before stirring himself to continue.

“But stop interrupting me,” he cut in playfully, “its rude. By now, we have come to the year 1903,—July 20th, to be exact- and the world was saddened by news of the death of Leo XIII. He it was who awakened the world to its duties towards the working classes, and had he written “Rerum Novarum” and nothing else, he would still be remem- bered and loved. His activity on behalf of the working class was only a part of those untiring labours which eventually wore out even his lion heart until on July 20th, God called His faithful servant home.”

He knocked the ashes out of his pipe. “As you know, when a Pope dies, his successor is chosen by the College of Cardinals. The Cardinals are called to Rome for the election; they go, each accompanied by his secretary. Meanwhile, a large part of the Vatican is set aside, and divided into apartments or cells. Access to it is had by one door only, which is barred from the outside by the Marshal of the Conclave, and from the inside by the Cardinal Camerlengo; and so all communication with the outside world is at an end until the result of the election is announced.

“Well, that’s what happened in 1903, when Cardinal Sarto was summoned to Rome for the election. Always with an eye to business, he bought a return ticket- to save money. But that return ticket was destined not to be used.”

VETO

“Before you go on,” Frank interrupted, “I remember reading somewhere that at this election it seemed certain that another Cardinal was going to be elected, but Austria vetoed him;- and then when he was out of the running, Pius X was elected. Was that a fact?”

The priest knitted his brows; “No, Frank. That has commonly been said, but it is far from the truth. Austria did attempt a veto, but it was ignored. You see, when a Pope is elected; this is what happens: “After Mass, the Cardinals assemble in the Sistine Chapel where the voting takes place. Each Cardinal takes an oath that he will elect the man whom he considers most fitted for the task, and places the name of his candidate in a gold chalice on the altar. The Cardinal finally elected must have a two-thirds majority; if this is not attained at the first sitting, the nominations are placed in a stove with a handful of damp straw-to make the smoke black. The chimney extends through a window of the Chapel, so the crowd outside can see clearly that the conclave has not reached a decision. The Conclave meets twice a day until the required two-thirds majority has been reached. When this is done; the ballots are again burnt in the stove, but this time the straw is not dampened. The smoke given off is white, as a sign to the people waiting outside that they have a new Pope.

“And so it was in 1903. At the first sitting a certain Cardinal Rampolla had 29 votes, while Cardinal Sarto had 5. Then a Cardinal, at the instigation of Austria, pronounced a veto on Cardinal Rampolla. This veto supposed that the Austrian Emperor had the right to disagree with a nominee, and even to exclude him from election.

“You can imagine what a stir went up at the pronouncing of the veto. Of course, it was disregarded, and as a matter of fact it increased Cardinal Rampolla’s chances, since sympathy had now been gained in his favour. “At the next scrutiny, his votes had increased, but, at the same time, the Patriarch’s had doubled and at the next session had doubled again.

“With his increasing favour, Cardinal Sarto’s anguish was apparent to all. Again and again he begged them to forget him as he was utterly incapable of the responsibility. Finally, on the fourth day, the ballots were taken and Joseph Sarto had polled fifty out of the possible sixty-two, eight more than the number required for a valid election. And so, Giuseppe Sarto, son of a peasant, had been elected 259th successor to Peter, the Fisherman.”

The priest glanced over towards the window. The rain was coming down steadily, now.

“Tell me, what was he like to look at, Father?” It was Mrs. O”Shaughnessy who was speaking. “Well, were you to look at his photo, you would be immediately struck by his expression of great sadness. You would not have called him good looking, but yet, there was something extremely attractive about him, His face was full, his hair white and somewhat unruly, his nose broad, and his mouth generous. But perhaps the most striking feature about him was his eyes—large, solemn, soulful, such as you only see in the very young or the very wise.

“So much for his appearance, now for the man himself. He was o ne of those people who have a natural charm and make friends easily. He had a great sense of humour, and a quick tongue; the sort of tongue that could sting, but rarely did so. But getting right at the heart of the man, he was an ardent lover of Our Lord, and then he loved all men for His sake. His reputation for holiness spread far and wide: “I hear you are a “Santo,” (Saint),” an enthusiastic lady exclaimed during an audience. “You almost have it; but you are wrong on one consonant.—It is a Sarto that I am, not a Santo; laughed the Pope.”

POPE OF REFORMS

The Pastor moved his chair nearer the fire. “Well, what shall I tell you about Pius X ? It is difficult to pick, because there was so much. For instance, there was his fight against Modernism; the “Motu Proprio,” as his famous encyclical letter on church music is called; his clash with the French Government; his decree on Holy Communion, and much more besides.”

“Well, Father,” said Frank. “I”11 give you the lead. What’s all this talk about his reform of Church music? I mean to say, there is a lot of talk these days of “Back to Gregorian Chant,”—cant see much in it myself. You can’t compare it with a full choir. Besides, when you . . .

“Just a second, Frank,” continued the priest, “we can’t let this deve lop into a discussion on sacred music, or else we’ll be here till midnight. At the time Pius X wrote, there was little to distinguish a full-blooded Credo from an operatic aria. Singers were paid; there was often a full orchestra- including drums—perched up in the choir loft. You have never experienced it. I have unfortunately, and believe me, it is something to shock the sensibilities. In his “Motu Proprio,” Pius X set down hard and fast rules to govern ecclesiastical music. Operatic effects were relegated to their proper place which was the theatre. On the other hand, while he did say that Gregorian Chant was the most suitable one, he did not exclude other forms of music, provided they were kept within certain defined limits. Pius X had set as his motto “To restore all things in Christ,” and this was one of the first of his works of restoration.

POPE OF THE EUCHARIST

“However, his greatest, or to be more accurate, his most famous reform was the restoration of the Eucharist to its proper place.”

Fr. Lawrence leaned down towards young Tony who had long since ceased to take interest in proceedings.

“You see, it was like this, Tony. When Our Lord was alive, He promised that He would come to people in Holy Communion, and for many centuries they used to receive Him often. But then, some wicked men, Jansenists, they called them, said we ought not receive Our Lord, unless we had shown we were good enough. They also said little boys like you could not receive Our Lord at all and made them wait till they were older because they didn’t know whom they were receiving.”

“But Father, that’s silly! We receive Jesus. And He’s alive as He was on earth, and He stays in us just as He is in the Tabernacle.- All the kids in our class know that!” There was no mistaking Tony’s sincerity.

The priest looked up past Tony, to where Mrs. O”Shaughnessy was sitting opposite him. “It reminds me of an English lady who had a private audience with Pius X. She had her little son aged four with her, and during the conversation the little boy ran to the Pope, put his hands on his knees and looked up into his face.” “How old is he?” asked Pius X.

“He’s four,” answered the mother, “and I hope in a few years he will be old enough to receive his first Com- munion.”

The Pope took the boy on his knee. “Whom do you receive in Holy Communion?” he asked. “Jesus Christ,” was the prompt answer.

“And who is Jesus Christ?”

“Jesus Christ is God,” he replied no less quickly.

“Bring him to me tomorrow, said the Pope, turning to the mother, “I will give him Holy Communion myself.” The priest continued to look at the chair opposite. Mrs. O”Shaughnessy gave no reply, but he knew he had won his point.

“You see,” he concluded, “for children, Communion is the loving embrace of a Father, whereas for us more sophisticated Catholics it is more of a welcome to a loved and much honoured Guest, with,” he added dryly, “the pre- occupations of a hostess.”

MODERNISM

“Father, about this Modernism you spoke of. You say the Pope condemned it. It seems to line up with all that talk about the Church being the enemy of science! I have always thought that the Church encouraged science and modern thought- and well, if the Pope condemned it . . .”

“You’re right, too, Frank, and in a sense you’re wrong. The Church does, and has always championed the cause of science. Anything we discover in the world that leads to a greater appreciation and knowledge of the creator of these wonders is good and the Church encourages it. But, unfortunately, lies and perversion can hide under the cloak of science and when this happens the Church must, and to her credit does, unmask this deception. She encourages for example, cancer research and physiology as genuine science, but condemns birth control methods and euthanasia which are merely masquerading as such.

“It was that way with the heresy of modernism. I don’t want to enter into a detailed discussion on Modernism at this hour of the night; I”11 merely say that it was founded on the philosophy of a man named Kant, a German professor and a Rationalist into the bargain. He believed that science had progressed so far as to be irreconcilable with Christian teaching. Of course, this assumption is absurd, as though a scientific truth could possibly conflict with a revelation from the Author of Truth.

“Many people were tricked by this new theory and took it for a fact that there was conflict between religion and science. The conclusion should, of course, have been either there was no conflict at all or else the socalled “scientific truth” was unsound. But your Rationalist wouldn’t have it that way. He said there was conflict—the scientific truth was established; therefore bring your religion into line with these new discoveries.

“It’s interesting to note,” commented the priest, “that many of the scientific truths have long since been refuted by science itself, but that is beside the point.

“Rationalism had many offshoots: one of them was, as we have said, Modernism. It made out that religion consisted only in a nice and pious feeling of the heart. If I felt something was good or true then for me it was good or true. This went by the intellectual name of “Immanentism.” Religion was internal; God revealed Himself to me personally; whatever I felt was right, was right. Therefore, there was no need of a Church to reveal anything to me when God spoke directly to me.

“This heresy, for heresy it was, threatened the whole set-up of Christianity, the supremacy of the supernatural order, the authority of the Church and Sacred Scripture. God was expected to dance to the tune of every crackpot scientific theory that presented itself.

“Believe it or not, Modernism was making great strides in parts of Europe, particularly France, and swift action was called for. It came in the form of the encyclical “Pascendi,” which is recognized as the clearest and most concise ex- position of Modernism. It was swift and effective; Modernism was incompatible with Catholicism; it was also incompatible with true science, and Pius said so. “Religion has nothing to fear from science,” he wrote, “but much to fear from ignorance.” Ignorance, yes, he had put his finger right on the cause of the trouble. He formulated drastic measures to stop this cancer from spreading to the clergy and demanded that all, prior to ordination, and professors in seminaries, take an oath not to teach or adhere to Modernism. So the heresy was crushed in its infancy, thanks to Pope Pius X. This man of God showed once again that he had his two feet planted firmly on the ground.”

POPE OF THE PRIESTHOOD

“Dear me,” Father observed, looking at Tony sleeping ever so peacefully. “The child isn’t interested in Modernism

- a tragedy! Can’t say I blame him, though.”

“Don’t stop, Father tell us more,” the others begged him.

“Well,” said the priest looking at his watch, “I can’t tell you much more, time won’t permit. But I will tell you of his interest in priests, and I hope that you will pray often for them; pray hard f or them.”

“Oh, Father,” laughed Mrs. Morton, pray for priests! it’s we poor people that need praying for; priests are living in the shadow of the Church all the time, and . . . well, I”m afraid I rarely, if ever, say a prayer for them.” Father Lawrence looked serious: “Priests need your prayers far more than you imagine. You must remember that the priest is a mediator between God and man; he is prize game for the devil, and Satan knows that if he gets a priest he has other souls as well; for if a priest goes to hell he is bound to drag down many other souls with him. So remember that, won’t you, and pray often for your priests. Three “Hail Marys” when he comes on the altar is not asking too much, I am sure and yet, if every one in the church did that, who could even guess the results?” “I must remember to do that,” said Mrs. O”Shaughnessy.

“Also,” continued the priest, “the World and the Flesh have a hand in dragging him down too—it’s very easy for the priest to slip, believe me. Pius X thought so, too, and he wrote an encyclical letter to the priests of the world, and especially to those who were growing cold in God’s service. “Haerent Animo” was the name of it, and in it he outlined a rule of conduct for his priest;. He gave them rules for discipline, study and prayer and he gave rigid instructions for the choice of candidates.

“He also appointed a commission of Cardinals to examine the subject of vocations to the priesthood. The commission came to the following conclusions:

Firstly, nobody has a right to ordination prior to his pre-selection by the Bishop;

Secondly, the priestly vocation does not require a certain interior attraction of the subject or invitation of the Holy

Ghost to enter the priesthood;

Thirdly, all that is required to be lawfully called by the Bishop is the “right intention, probity of life, sufficient knowledge and the other requirements which give a well-founded hope that the candidate will fulfil his priestly obligations in a worthy manner.

““These three propositions dealt the deathblow to the old theory about secret promptings and whispered invitations to become priests. Thanks to Pius X that theory has been buried for all time. His motto was, as we have seen, “To restore all things in Christ”, and in his work of restoration, he naturally did not forget his priests.

OTHER REFORMS

“And so his reforms went on; he ordered the codification of the Canon Law, which was completed and promulgated by his successor, Benedict XV; he reformed the Breviary and the Missal;there was his decree “Ne Temere” con- cerning Christian Marriage. Many of his reforms brought upon his ageing head criticism and abuse, as for instance his clash with the French Government, but subsequent history has shown how wise his actions were.

“Well,” said Father Lawrence, “you have asked me for an account of the life of Pius X, and that is about all there is—except, that on 20th August, 1914, he died.”

“What did he die of,” asked Mrs. Morton.

“A broken heart, I should say—towards the end of his life he saw the clouds of war beginning to loom on the horizon. Again and again he appealed to the nations to come to agreement, but to no avail. One of the saddest moments of his life, he is reported to have said, was his farewelling of a band of seminarians of different nationalities who were recalled from Rome to their own countries, soon to blast each other to pieces. He died on 20th August, peacefully and calmly as he had lived, and you may see his tomb in St. Peter’s as I have, plain and unostentatious, inscribed with the words:

POPE PIUS X

POOR AND HUMBLE OF HEART UNDAUNTED CHAMPION OF THE CATHOLIC FAITH ZEALOUS TO RESTORE ALL THINGS IN CHRIST CROWNED A HOLY LIFE WITH A HOLY DEATH 20th AUGUST, A.D. 1914

The priest rose to go—it had stopped raining.

“That briefly, is the life of one of the several great Popes we have had in modern times. Leo XIII, has been known as the “Pope of the Social Order” Benedict XV, the “Pope of Peace”; Pius XI, the “Pope of Catholic Action”; Pius XII . . . who knows? But surely nobody would deny to Pius X the title “Pope of the Eucharist” . . . surely he deserves a prayer of thanks occasionally from us. for it is he who re-introduced the practice of frequent Communion. And on 29th May, forty years after his death, the world had the opportunity of showing its thanks; when Eugenio Pacelli, another Pius, declared Joseph Sarto to be among the Saints in Heaven.”

The Mortons accompanied the priest to his car.

“Good night, Father,” said Frank, “and thanks for coming.”

“I”11 remember those “Three Hail Marys,” added Mrs. Morton.

“You see that you do, now,” smiled Father Lawrence.

The engine purred. . . . . .”it’ll be your part in the work of the restoration.”

The car moved slowly off.

“Mmmm,” muttered the priest as he wiped the windscreen, “to restore all things in Christ—My God, what a life! . . . and it is yours, Opriest of Jesus Christ . . .”

Nihil Obstat:

W. M. COLLINS,

Censor Deputatus.

Imprimatur: @ D. MANNIX,

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis. June 20, 1954

********

Saint Raymund Nonnatus

CARDINAL AND CONF

INDEX

ACCORDING to the words of our divine Redeemer, that Christian proves himself His most faithful disciple and gives the surest and greatest proof of his love of God, who most perfectly loves his neighbour for God’s sake. By this test of sanctity we are to form our judgement of the saint whom the Church honours on this day. St Raymund was brought into the world at Portel in Catalonia in the year 1204, and was called non natus,”not born,” because he was taken out of the body of his mother after her death in labour. In his childhood he seemed to find no other pleasure than in his devotions and his grammar studies. His father took him from school, and sent him to take care of a farm which he had in the country. Raymund readily obeyed, and enjoyed the opportunity of solitude. He was pressed by his friends to go to the court of Arragon, where by his prudence and abilities he could not fail to better himself, especially as he was related to the illustrious houses of Foix and Cardona. Instead of doing this, he made a resolution of taking the religious habit in the new order of Our Lady of Mercy for the redemption of captives. He could say with holy Job that compassion for the poor and distressed had grown up with him from his childhood. The sufferings of the Christians who in the neighbouring provinces, almost under his eyes, groaned in slavery under the Moors, particularly afflicted his heart; by compassion he already bore their burdens and felt the weight of their chains. But if he was moved at their bodily sufferings, and desired to devote himself and all that he possessed to procure them comfort and relief, he was much more troubled by their spiritual danger of sinking under their calamities and losing their souls by impatience or apostasy from Christ. Against this he never ceased to pray, entreating the God of mercy to be Himself the comfort and support of the weak and of the strong; and he wished with St Paul to spend and be spent himself for their souls. He obtained of his father, through the mediation of the Count of Cardona, leave to enter the Mercedarian order; and was accordingly admitted to his profession at Barcelona by St Peter Nolasco.

So swift was the progress that he made in the perfection of his institute that within two or three years after his profession he was judged the best qualified to discharge the office of ransomer, in which he succeeded St Peter. Being sent into Barbary with a considerable sum of money he purchased at Algiers the liberty of a number of slaves. When all other resources were exhausted, he voluntarily gave himself up as a hostage for the ransom of certain others, whose situation was desperate and whose faith was exposed to imminent danger. The sacrifice which the saint had made of his own liberty served only to exasperate the Algerians, who treated him with barbarity till, fearing lest if he died in their hands they would lose the ransom which was stipulated to be paid for the slaves for whom he remained a hostage, the magistrate of the city gave orders that he should be treated with more humanity. He was permitted to go about the streets and he made use of this liberty to comfort and encourage the Christians, and he converted and baptized some Mohammedans. When the governor heard of this he condemned him to be impaled, this being a barbarous manner of executing criminals much in use among those infidels. However, the persons who were interested in the ransom of the captives prevailed that his life should be spared lest they should be losers; and, by a commutation of his punishment, he was made to run the gauntlet. This did not daunt his courage. So long as he saw souls in danger, he thought he had yet done nothing; nor could he let slip any opportunity of ministering to them. He considered that, as St John Chrysostom says,” Though a person shall have given away a large fortune in alms he has done nothing equal to him who has contributed to the salvation of a soul. This is a greater alms than ten thousand pounds-than this whole world, how great soever it appears to the eye-for a man is more precious than the whole world.” St Raymund had, on one side, no more money to employ in releasing poor captives; and, on the other, to speak to a Mohammedan upon the subject of religion was by the Islamic law to court death. He could, however, still exert his endeavours with hope of some success or of dying a martyr of charity. He therefore resumed his former method of instructing and exhorting both Christians and infidels. The governor, who was immediately told of his behaviour, was enraged and commanded the servant of Christ to be whipped at the corners of all the streets in the city, his lips to be bored with a red-hot iron in the market-place, and his mouth shut up with a padlock, the key of which he kept himself and only gave to the gaoler when the prisoner was to eat. In this condition he was kept in a dungeon, where he lay full eight months, till his ransom was brought by some religious men of his order, who were sent with it by St Peter. Raymund was unwilling to leave the country of the infidels, where he wanted to remain to assist the slaves; but he acquiesced in obedience to the orders of his general, begging God to accept his tears, seeing he was not worthy to shed his blood for the souls of his neighbours.

Upon his return to Spain in 1239 Pope Gregory IX nominated him cardinal. But so little was he affected by the unlooked-for honour that he neither changed his dress, nor his poor cell in the convent at Barcelona, nor his manner of living. The Pope, being desirous to have so holy a man about his person and to employ him in the public affairs of the Church, called him to Rome. He obeyed, but could not be persuaded to travel otherwise than as a poor religious. He got no farther than Cardona (Cerdagne), which is only six miles from Barcelona; he was seized with a violent fever and died there, being only about thirty-six years old. He was buried in the chapel of St Nicholas, near the farm in which he had formerly lived at Portello. The life of St Raymund Nonnatus was not written down till some hundreds of years after his death, and it is a task of great difficulty to separate truth from fiction in the document that has come down to us; it is adorned with numerous miracles and other marvels of very doubtful worth. He is the patron saint of midwives.

Raymund gave not only his substance but also his liberty, and exposed himself to cruel torments and death, for the redemption of captives and the salvation of souls. But how cold is charity in our breasts, though it be the essential characteristic of true Christians Do we not, merely to gratify our desire for pleasure or out of vanity or avarice, refuse to give the superfluous part of our possessions to the poor, who for want of it suffer from cold and hunger? Are not we slothful and backward in visiting unfortunate or sick persons, and in doing our best to get some relief for the distressed? Are we not so insensible to their miseries as to be without feeling for them, and to neglect even to commend them to God with sufficient earnestness? Do we not fail to remonstrate with sinners according to our circumstances and with regard for prudence, and neglect to instruct, by ourselves and others, those under our care? Is it not manifest that self-love, and not the love of God and our neighbour, reigns in our hearts, when we pursue so inordinately our own worldly interest? If we sound our own hearts and take an impartial view of our lives we shall soon know whether this test of Christ, or that of Satan, which is self-love, be uppermost in our souls, and the governing principle of our actions.

ST RAYMUND NONNATUS, PRAY FOR US

Saint Rita

INDEX

IN THE VERY HEART OF ITALY EXTENDS ONE OF THE MOST REMARKABLE OF ITS PROVINCES, THAT OF UMBRIA. ITS VERY NAME (UMBRA (LATIN)-SHADE) GIVES US SOME IDEA OF THE NATURE OF ITS SCENERY, SCENERY RENDERED SO STRIKING BY ITS MANY DEEP FORESTS, LOVELY SHADY VALLEYS, DELIGHTFUL GROVES AND COPSES VARIED BY ITS RICH AND EXTENSIVE VINEYARDS AND OLIVE PLANTATIONS. IT IS FITLY CALLED “THE EVERVERDANT UMBRIA.” IT IS NO LESS RENOWNED FOR THE ANTIQUITY, VARIETY AND GREAT HISTORICAL ASSOCIATIONS OF ITS MONUMENTS-ITS POWERFULLY-BUILT CASTLES, ITS MAGNIFICENT PALACES, ITS VENERABLE CHURCHES, IN WHICH SUCH TOWNS AS PERUGIA, SPOLETO, FOLIGNO, RIETI, ASSISI ABOUND. IT IS A WELL-KNOWN FACT THAT UMBRIA HAS GIVEN ITS NAME TO A DISTINGUISHED SCHOOL OF PAINTING-THE UMBRIAN SCHOOL-AND THERE IS SCARCELY A VILLAGE CHURCH THROUGHOUT ITS WHOLE EXTENT THAT DOES NOT POSSESS SOME PICTURE EXECUTED BY THE HANDOF A MASTER, AND UNDOUBTEDLY NOT THE LEAST OF UMBRIA’S CLAIMS TO GLORY IS THE NUMBER OF ITS CHILDREN WHOSE NAMES ARE WRIT LARGE IN THE PAGES OF HISTORY-POETS, PAINTERS, STATESMEN, WARRIORS, MERCHANT PRINCES, AND, ABOVE ALL, SAINTS. IT IS SUFFICIENT TO MENTION ST. BENEDICT, THE FATHER OF WESTERN MONASTICISM, AND, LATER, THE SERAPHIC FATHER, ST. FRANCIS OF ASSISI, AND THE GLORIOUS ST. CLARE. TOWARDS THE END OF THE 14TH CENTURY APPEARED ANOTHER SAINT WELL WORTHY OF HER PREDECESSORS, A SKETCH OF WHOSE LIFE WE HERE PROPOSE TO GIVE-ST. RITA OF CASCIA.

“Let Margarita be her name!”

In the lower extremity of Umbria, amid rugged mountains torn by gullies that in certain seasons of the year become the beds of mountain torrents, stands in almost utter solitude and isolation from the haunts of men, the little village of Roccaporena. Like most Italian villages so situated, it has scarce changed during the course of five centuries. It contains no more than nineteen families in all; its people are faithful Catholics whose simple, laborious lives are spent in an endeavour to wrest a precarious living from the rocky soil along the slopes of the neighbouring mountains and from the management of their little flocks of sheep and goats. There lived here in the second half of the 14th century, a humble pair named Antonio Mancini and Amata Ferri. Though long married and now advanced in years their little home had never been blessed by the presence of a child. But they were a virtuous pair, trustful in Providence, yet cheerful and resigned; and in their old age their faith in God was rewarded in the same way as that of the father and mother of the Precursor. It was divinely revealed to Amata that she was to be the mother of a female child who was to be specially favoured by God, and who was to receive the name of Margarita. That child was to become known throughout the world by the name of Rita-diminutive of Margarita.

Rita was born on May 22nd, 1381, and five days later was baptised in the Collegiate Church of Santa Maria at Cascia, there being no Baptismal Font in the little Church of Roccaporena. It is not surprising that prodigies surrounded the cradle of such a child. There is one that deserves particular mention. One day while the little infant, with parted lips and rhythmic breathing, was sleeping the deep and refreshing sleep of innocence, a number of bees were observed hovering and buzzing around her head and even going in and out of her mouth, without, however, inflicting any injury whatsoever. This prodigy of the bees in not new in the lives of the Saints. Thus we read of St. John Chrysostom and St. Ambrose that when they were children bees built honey-combs in their hands-a symbol of their honeyed eloquence in the service of God. Bees played a prominent part throughout the whole life of Rita, and the marvel of the “Bees of St. Rita” exists even to the present day. The pious visitor to the Monastery of the Augustinian Nuns at Cascia may still see them in the wall of the ancient cloister near the tomb of the Saint. Though similar in appearance to the ordinary honey-bee, they live a mysterious kind of life of their own. They have no sting, and their buzz is of a peculiar kind. They show themselves only at certain fixed times-on the anniversary of Rita’s death, May 22nd, and on the last days of Holy Week. Immediately after such appearances they retire into little holes in the Convent walls, blocking the entrances with a white filmy substance somewhat like white cotton-wool.

It will be of interest to recall here one of the many beautiful stories connected with the childhood of St. Rita which have survived down the centuries. Once, in the month of July, the parents of Rita went out to reap, taking with them the infant whom, safe in its cradle, they placed under the shade of a spreading tree. Suddenly there rushed up a reaper from a neighbouring field. He had sustained from a reaping hook a severe wound in the arm which he vainly tried to staunch with a piece of cloth, and was on his way to Cascia to seek medical assistance. Passing near the cradle he saw a swarm of bees hovering over the head of the child. He approached and instinctively waved his swathed arm in an endeavour to disperse them. Marvellous to relate, the bees seemed to buzz and fly about in a friendly manner as if to let him know they intended no harm. Then he felt that the pain in his arm had suddenly ceased. Wonderingly he tore off the impoverished bandage to find that the wound had disappeared.

Some centuries later a great Pope, Urban VIII, expressed the desire to see one of these strange bees of Cascia. One was brought to him in a glass vessel. After examining and admiring it he gave orders for its release. It was observed to fly off immediately in the direction of Cascia to rejoin its companions near the tomb of the Saint.

A Saintly Maid.

Comparatively little is known of the early years and girlhood of Rita. Her aged parents, fully conscious of the preciousness of this treasure divinely committed to their care, gave her all, the solid training, the unobtrusive vigilance, the edifying example and loving attention of the model Christian home. Among their neighbours they had acquired a just reputation for two things-their devotion to the Passion of Jesus and their charity in succouring those less fortunate than themselves. Their charity showed itself above all in spiritual necessities, and they were ideal peace-makers. Whenever discord arose among neighbours or in a family they were selected as the kindliest of arbiters, and their counsels of peace met with invariable success. In Rita they had a wholehearted imitator, and to the end of her life she put into practice the lessons of charity and peace she had learned under the parental roof. When quite a young girl she often distributed to the poor even part of the modest food she got for her own needs, thus practising at one and the same time the virtues of charity and penance. She was gentle of disposition and extremely modest and retiring, intent only on her prayers and helping her mother in the work of the household. Her dress was always neat but plain, and it was noticed that she never indulged in the highly-coloured gowns so much affected by the woman-folk in certain country districts of Italy, especially on Feast-days. She seemed to delight in prayer. As she grew up, the duration and intense fervour of her meditations on the Passion were a source of astonishment even to her pious parents, and her reverent attitude in the church before the Blessed Sacrament edified all who saw her. We are told in the simple words of the early biographers that it was a common thing for the mothers of the village to say to their daughters: “Oh, if you were only as good as that dear Rita!” Thus, even in her very youth, were laid the solid foundations of those heroic virtues that were to form the characteristic note of her life.

A fact narrated of her girlhood gives us an idea of how far the spirit of prayer and penance had already taken possession of Rita’s soul. She asked her parents for permission to retire into a cave or into the depths of one of the neighbouring forests in order to be more free for intimate communion with God. The aged couple wondered exceedingly, but they thought it more prudent to refuse, especially as they were loath to allow out of their sight their beloved only child. They so far, however, acceded to her desire as to give her the exclusive use of an unoccupied room, a kind of attic at the top of the house. This Rita converted into a little oratory, decorating its walls with pictures of the Saints and of the scenes of the Passion; and, in order that she might have a view of the sky which, in Italy especially, by its clear blueness and majesty is such a reminder of heaven and inspirer of holy thoughts, she caused a little window to be opened in the roof. This little room, with its sky-light, may be seen to this day. Here she remained a whole year, emerging but rarely to help her mother in the busy times. She formed here the resolution of dedicating herself to Jesus as a cloistered nun, and it had become before long the great, absorbing ambition of her life.

The Young Wife.

It was only her deep affection and reverence for her aged parents that induced Rita to come forth definitely from her self-imposed retreat. She felt that now, in their declining years, they had special need of her help. They, on their side, had been long discussing a project for her future. They wished to pass on their little house and belongings to some younger and stronger hands, and they were anxious besides to provide, according to their lights, for the future of their daughter. They, therefore, suggested to her that it was time to think of marriage. The proposition descended like a thunderbolt on the simple and unsuspecting heart of Rita. She had for so long entertained the tender vision of herself as a Spouse of Christ, wholly dedicated to His service. Confused and frightened, she confided to her parents her pious dreams. But they were not impressed and urged their demands. They asked her was she to abandon them in their old age and leave them unprovided for and helpless. They represented to her that all their hopes rested on her, that, after all, she could continue to sanctify herself in the world as they and she had hitherto done; that she, who had been the joy of their lives and had always carried out their smallest wish, would surely not disobey them now. The delicate soul of Rita, though terribly disappointed, felt the full force of their appeal; she only asked for some time for reflection and prayer. In the agony of her soul she appealed to her Crucified Jesus for light and guidance, and as a result it was borne in upon her that she was to make the sacrifice of her own will. With the simple rectitude of mind that always distinguished her, she made known to her parents that she was willing to accede to their desires. Rita was then eighteen years of age.

The parents were overjoyed, but knowing her intense repugnance to marriage, and fearing she would change her mind, they were anxious to see her bound by matrimonial contract as soon as possible. The result was a hasty choice of a husband-for Rita left the matter entirely in their hands-a choice they were afterwards to lament most bitterly. It was a severe lesson to them as to many Christian parents who forget, in their mistaken zeal for the presumed material welfare of their children, the supreme rights of Almighty God, the common Father of us all. The marriage duly took place. The husband, named Paolo Ferdinando, was as different a character from his gentle and saintly young wife as could possibly be imagined. Cruel, evil-disposed, heartless by nature and neglectful of his religious duties, the very virtues of Rita only seemed to arouse all the more his senseless rage, and from the very beginning he treated her with insults, vile language and even blows. God alone could tell what sufferings the sensitive soul of Rita had to endure from this unworthy companion, sufferings she tried to hide within her own heart. She confided everything to Jesus in prayer; she accepted everything in the spirit of sacrifice in union with Jesus; she prayed incessantly for her husband, feeling that she was now so intimately joined to him in the bonds of a holy Sacrament, she was responsible for his soul. She bore his outrageous conduct in silence, never upbraiding him or even attempting to defend herself. Instead she surrounded him with every attention in the home, made the domestic hearth as attractive for him as she possibly could, performed most exactly all her domestic duties, and even gave assistance in the garden and fields, tried to anticipate his every wish, sought to avoid anything that caused him displeasure, even to the extent of curtailing her time of prayer and reducing the number of her visits to the church-in short, she did everything in her power to bring about a change of heart. Oh, what wonderful things have been done by the faith and love, the patience and sacrifice, the noble appeals and example of good wives and good mothers! How much under heaven has been wrought by them for the fortunate ones who were the object of their care! It was by the prayers of a great mother that the master-mind of St. Augustine was brought into subjection to the teachings of that Church of which he was afterwards to become such a brilliant ornament and Doctor, and so it has happened over and over again in the history of the Church. It was the same Doctor who once said that the evil are allowed to exist by the Providence of God in order that they may be either converted from their iniquities or that through them the good may be exercised in virtue. Both one and the other took place in the case of Rita and her husband. He certainly gave her occasion to practise in the highest degree the most difficult of virtues, and the time came when the long-suffering patience of his wife was finally to triumph. It could not be otherwise. No man with one spark of good in his nature could long resist the silent pleadings and the heroic fortitude of such a wife. His mind was gradually opened to see the real beauty and power of her virtue, and in spite of himself he began to esteem and love her. His unbridled savagery was finally overcome by her constant gentleness, and there came a day when, after one of his usual outbursts he was so overcome by shame and remorse that he knelt at her feet and begged her pardon, promising a better life. That promise, aided always by his perfect wife, he faithfully kept as long as he lived.

The Devoted Mother.

Rita became the mother of two sons. Alas! notwithstanding the care she lavished on them, they clearly displayed from their earliest years that they had inherited the worst qualities of their father. This was perhaps a more grevious trial for her than the neglect and cruelty of their father. After all, it is the natural and sacred ambition of every true mother, no matter how much she has to suffer from others, to keep attached to her those whom she has borne with so much pain and tended and caressed in their tender innocence of childhood. The consolations of a mother were denied her; her children became only another scourge to afflict her. They were disobedient, quarrelsome, vindictive, and no doubt their evil propensities were fostered by the example of their father. A terrible incident that occurred in their early boyhood, just at that period when the passions begin to manifest themselves in all their native turbulence, served to draw out the worst that was in them. It was an incident that seemed to fill to overflowing the cup of sorrow that marriage had brought to Rita. One evening a peasant from the village; on his way home from work, found at about a mile from Roccaporena a man stretched motionless on the road. He was quite dead, with a knife through his heart. The peasant recognised the corpse to be that of the hapless husband of Rita. Rushing to the village he spread the news everywhere, but he had not the heart to inform the unfortunate woman most concerned. Some good women undertook the task, and, as gently as they could, made known to her that her husband had met with a severe, nay, fatal accident. Scarce comprehending what they said, she ran to the spot, and it was only when she saw the lifeless body that the full import of the dreadful occurrence came home to her. And then, much as she lamented the cruel blow that had struck him down, her chief anxiety was for the state of his soul. Had he died in the grace of God? Were, perhaps, his last thoughts, his last words on earth, those of passionate hatred and vindictiveness? These were the doubts that tormented her for weeks. She prayed as even she had never prayed before; she had Masses said, she stormed heaven on his behalf, nor did she rest until she received an assurance from on high that his soul had found eternal rest. How highly favoured this man had been in the possession of a wife so rare.

New trials awaited her. She was now alone, without protection, without support and burdened with the responsibility of providing for herself and her two intractable sons. The problem of material sustenance was easily enough overcome through her gains from hard and menial labour; but what caused her indescribable pain was the threats and imprecations of her sons against the murderer of their father. They swore they would have revenge and that they would not rest until they had exacted blood for blood. It was in vain that she implored them to desist from their terrible resolution. It was in vain, as it seemed, that she prayed to God to change their hearts, offering even her own life in return for their souls. Finally, in an agony of despair, she begged of God to take them from her and from the world rather than that they should imbrue their hands with blood. This heroic prayer reminds us of the Mother of Maccabees who offered her sons to the executioner rather than see them violate the laws of God. This time her prayer was heard. Within a year the two sons died, one shortly after the other, and their deaths, sanctified by the presence of Rita, were those of true Christians. It was a terrible wrench for the heart of this grand wife and mother to be thus parted from all who were dear to her on earth. It went against her deepest natural feelings but from the supernatural point of view it marked the beginning of a new and higher life. The last ties that bound her to earth were broken. Now more than ever did she feel nearer to her Father in Heaven, and there arose once more in her soul the desire to live entirely for God, and, if possible, to dedicate herself to His service in the cloister.

In The Hermitage.

Near the village there rose a great rock, like a vast tower, accessible only on one side by a tortuous path. At its summit was a natural cave formed by a great projecting piece of rock which served as a roof. This was the place of refuge selected by Rita in this crisis of her life. Such places, situated high above the scenes of worldly cares, have always exercised a profound attraction for the saints. There they have found themselves as it were, nearer to Heaven, freer to contemplate the Infinite and to receive the divine inspirations. Near the mouth of the cave Rita erected a simple cross made of two pieces of wood. Prostrate before this she begged of God to make known His Will and give her the strength to carry it out. Here also she practised penances that strike us with awe even to read of-fasts, flagellations and long vigils spent in meditation. This rude retreat has been regarded ever since as a sacred spot, and the people still point out to the visitor the miraculous imprint of her left foot and knees. A little chapel was raised over the spot as late as 1923. Before that date it was marked by a wooden cross.

How long Rita remained in the cave we cannot say for certain. We only know that one day she came down from her retreat, distributed to the needy whatever little worldly goods remained to her and then set out for Cascia, the town with which her name was to be identified for the rest of her life and for ever. Her objective was the Monastery of St. Mary Magdalen, belonging to the Augustinian Nuns, for it was now clear to her that it was the Divine Will that she should enter that Monastery. Arriving at the Cloister door she asked for the Superioress, before whom, on arrival, she knelt, humbly begging for admission to the Monastery, and declaring herself ready to serve in any capacity, even the humblest. But she met only with a kind though firm refusal on the grounds that it was against the Rule and custom of the Monastery to admit widows. Over and over again Rita returned to renew her petition in the hopes of a more favourable decision, but all in vain. Formerly it was her parents who opposed her resolution to enter Religion, now it was the nuns themselves. Humbly and patiently after each rebuff she trudged back to her cave, and to those who enquired of her where she had been, she had only one evasive answer: “I have been to the House of the Lord, but found the door closed against me.” But she never lost heart, she was determined to succeed; nay she was perfectly convinced that in His Own good time God would provide the means of bringing her to the place He had marked out for her. Nor was she disappointed.

Rita Enters the Monastery.

Rita had always nourished a special devotion to St. John the Baptist on account of the similarity between the circumstances of her own birth and his. Also, as a young girl, when she had first thought of being a nun, she had put herself under the protection of St. Augustine and of St. Nicholas of Tolentino, who were well known in those parts owing to the neighbourhood of the Augustinian Monastery. She now redoubled her prayers to these heavenly Patrons asking them to secure the fulfilment of her holy desire, for God had placed it in her heart, and, humanly speaking, it was beyond her strength to attain. The answer was such as we do not often find, even in the lives of the Saints.

It was the year 1416, when Rita was already 35 years of age. One night while she was at prayer in her old home, there came a knock at the door and she was called by name. At first she was terror-stricken, for she was absolutely alone. The knock and call were repeated, and then she felt in her heart the invitation: “Arise, make haste, My love, My beautiful one and come. For winter is now past, the rain is over and gone” (Cant. of Canticles II. 10). . . . . . and without further hesitation she threw open the door. On the threshold stood three venerable-looking personages in whom she recognised her three Patrons. They beckoned and invited her to follow. Immediately they set off in the direction of Cascia and Rita noticed that they did not follow the usual path, but took one over the mountains which even the hardiest and most practised shepherds were ordinarily afraid to follow in the open day. Finally they reached the door of the Monastery of St. Mary Magdalen, which opened before them as if unlocked from within by an invisible hand. Preceded always by her guides, Rita passed through the corridors of the Convent and at last found herself in the Community Choir. There the Patrons bade her an affectionate farewell and departed. She knelt down in a remote corner and there in the faint light thrown by the lamp burning before the Blessed Sacrament she gave full vent to the feelings of humility, gratitude and love that filled her heart. In the meantime the bell sounded for midnight Office and the nuns began to file into the Choir. Great was their surprise when they discovered the stranger. Here, surely, was a mystery! They quickly ascertained that all doors were securely barred and untampered with. Eagerly and excitedly they questioned her. She told them quite simply and circumstantially how she had come to be there. The nuns were quick to see the clear manifestation of the Divine Will. They now warmly welcomed her into their midst and indeed felt highly privileged to have in their house such a favoured soul.

Life in the Cloister.

Rita now felt like the traveller who, after many wonderings and strayings, has reached home at last. But she had no idea of giving herself to mere ignoble repose. Placed among the Spouses of Christ, she felt more than ever impelled to work for the sanctification of her soul and for the Glory of God and the Church. The time of her probation ended, she was admitted to the solemn Profession of her vows according to the Rule of St. Augustine, and by their means and all the other helps which the Religious life so richly supplies, she advanced day by day with giant strides to the summit of perfection. Never, no matter what her trials, did she lose even for one moment during the rest of her life the deep-seated sentiments of gratitude and joy she had felt on that night of her miraculous arrival. She entered heart and soul into all the exercises of piety and penance of the Community. She gladly undertook the meanest labours, declaring herself to be the servant of all the Sisters. Throughout her whole life in the Monastery she retained undiminished and assiduously cultivated her love and zeal for Evangelical Poverty. Her poor cell was situated in a remote corner of the Monastery, and the only articles of furniture it contained were, at her own express desire, of the poorest and meanest kind. Knowing the fundamental value of obedience as a corrective of self-love, she paid particular attention to that virtue. The Superioress had apparently some fears for the perfect submission of one who entered Religion so late in life. At least that would appear to be the human explanation of a strange command she laid on the saintly nun. God, we may be sure, had His Own designs in permitting or inspiring it. The command was that Rita should every day for a whole year carefully water a vine-tree that was obviously withered and dead, and was only in fact a mere shrivelled trunk. Rita obeyed without a word of protest, and in consequence had to put up with many a jest and laughing remark from one or other of the Sisters. But at the end of the year their smiles and indulgent pity for Rita’s simplicity turned into amazement and awe. For one day they saw that the withered trunk had turned into a flourishing vine-tree which, in due time, produced an abundance of rich, golden-hued grapes! Today, after a lapse of five centuries, that vine-tree still stands and fructifies-a miraculous monument of perfect obedience. It is called the “Vine-tree of St. Rita,” and every year its grapes are sent to clients of the Saint all over the world.

Since in the time of St. Rita the Enclosure as we know it today did not exist (it was introduced by the Council of Trent 1545–1563), the Saint was able to carry on an active apostolate among the people of the surrounding country. She was particularly interested in the work of reconciling warring factions and families-a very valuable and necessary work in those turbulent times. She soon acquired popular fame as a Peacemaker, and in this capacity was much sought after by persons of all classes of society. In fact wherever there was any misery of body or of soul, there she was to be found as a ministering angel, soothing, consoling, inspiring holy thoughts of resignation, charity and peace. Within the walls of the Monastery the Sisters looked upon her as a living Saint. It has been well said of her that even if the Rule of St. Augustine were lost it could be reconstructed and rewritten from a mere study of her conduct. Her favourite devotion-a devotion which she had learned from her parents in her youth and faithfully practised all her life-was to the Passion of Our Lord and to the Mother of Sorrows. So deeply was this engraven in her heart that all her thoughts, all her prayers and Masses and Communions centred round this profound mystery. It was the thought of the sufferings of Jesus that had consoled her in all the terrible trials she had passed through as wife and mother and widow. Now in the haven of the Religious Life she was able to penetrate more and more the Truths of the Passion and Redemption. This devotion of hers was to receive a new impetus from an event which we will now describe.

The Miraculous Thorn

If Rita was distinguished for her love of Jesus, she was no less distinguished for her love of the Church founded by Jesus. The time in which she lived called forth all her loyalty and zeal, for heresy was rife and there had been a Schism which had lasted for long and had left dreadful ravages in its train. In addition to these troubles the Turks, approaching from the East threatened to destroy Christianity and the whole fabric of Christian civilization in Europe. As usual in such times of stress, God raised up His heroes to defend the Church-great military leaders and especially great apostles, foremost among whom were the great Franciscans, St. Bernardine of Siena, St. John Capistran and St. James della Marca. These were sent all over Europe to preach Crusades and arouse the princes and peoples against the Turks, and to oppose the inroads of heresy. It fell to the lot of St. James della Marca to evangelise Umbria, where the heretical sect of the Fraticelli was very powerful and active. In the course of his mission he came to Cascia. His tremendous eloquence, inspired by fiery zeal, made a lasting impression and fortified the whole population in the Faith. The Churches not being able to contain his vast audiences, his sermons were delivered in the public square. They were devoutly and attentively followed by the Augustinian Nuns, and they made a particularly deep impression on Rita, who in all the turmoil of the times had never ceased to pray and sacrifice herself for the success of the preachers of the true Faith. One day St. James took for the subject of his discourse the Passion of Our Lord-Rita’s favourite theme. Her heart burned within her at the inspired eloquence of the preacher. She felt an increased love for Jesus in His Passion, an increased desire to become more like to the Man of Sorrows and even in her own body to share His sufferings, especially the sufferings caused to His Divine Head by the Crown of Thorns. Full of these pious sentiments she returned to her Monastery. Now it happened that she had to pass by a picture of the Crucified painted on the wall of an oratory near her cell. She felt moved by a kind of irresistible force to throw herself on her knees before it. And then a wondrous thing occurred. A ray of light of extraordinary brilliance seemed to flash from the thorn-crowned Head of the Crucified to the head of Rita, and immediately she became conscious of a sharp, overpowering spasm of pain. A large thorn had struck her on the left side of the forehead towards the temple and such was the force of the blow that the thorn penetrated the head. She was discovered by the Sisters prostrate on the ground in what appeared to be a swoon, but was in reality an ecstatic seizure, and with blood flowing copiously from the wound. Wonderingly, and with only a dim realization of what had really happened, they removed her to her cell. The wound would yield to no human treatment. Instead, it became larger and more unsightly as time went on, so much so as to disfigure almost the entire face-that face that had formerly been so beautiful in its noble lines and especially in the gentleness and placidity of its expression. In course of time the wound became putrid and gave out a most unpleasant odour, and, horrible to relate, vermin gathered on it, and every effort to remove them was in vain. So utterly nauseating to sight and smell did it ultimately become that it became necessary to segregate Rita from the rest of the Community. This martyrdom of acute physical pain, of enforced solitude, of utter deprivation of all human consolation, lasted for the remaining fifteen years of her life-with only one brief interval, during which the external wound disappeared, as we shall presently see. The nuns and other pious persons prayed for her liberation from what they considered a terrible evil-nay, some were even inclined to see in it a sign of abandonment by God- but Rita accepted it as the Gift of Jesus and gave fervent thanks for the granting of her request. She found herself able to pray with a new fervour and confidence, and she prayed above all and offered her sufferings for the great gift of peace and a renewal of Christian life in the Church. It is prayers such as these, the prayers of humble, unknown souls, that bring success to the labours of the ministers of the Gospel. And we can well believe that the prayers and penances of Rita had undoubtedly their share under God in the happy events of the following years. Pope Eugene IV died in 1447. The greater part of his Pontificate had been an unusually stormy one; but he had the satisfaction before his death of seeing peace at last restored to the Church and to the nations, and the return to the unity of the Church of the great bodies of schismatics and heretics. Divine Providence gave to the Church a worthy successor in the person of Pope Nicholas V. one of the greatest of the Popes.

Rita at Rome.

In 1450 a Jubilee was proclaimed by Pope Nicholas V. It was an event of exceptional solemnity on account of the violent tempests which the barque of Peter had recently encountered and overcome and was marked with scenes at Rome of unexampled popular devotion. It was during this Holy Year that St. Bernardine of Siena, the greatest Apostle of his time was enrolled in the list of the Saints, only six years after his death. The Augustinian Nuns of Cascia, in their zeal to gain the Indulgence of the Jubilee and to pray for the needs of the Church, determined to make a Pilgrimage to Rome. In her love for the See of Peter, Rita conceived a vehement desire, which she felt sure was inspired by God, to accompany them. But when she asked her Superioress for the required permission, she met with a blank refusal. Indeed the good Superioress was almost scandalised that one so afflicted, one who had been confined to her own room for so long, should entertain the idea of leaving the Convent and undertaking such a journey. But, as usual in such circumstances, Rita had recourse to prayer to her Divine Spouse: “Lord, since Thou willest I should go to Rome to do work pleasing to Thee, give me the means of doing so. I do not ask Thee to remove from me the seal of Thy love or the participation in Thy pains: I ask Thee only to remove for a time the outward sign. I ask this of Thee by the love Thou hast always shown me.” Her prayer was heard. The wound seemed to disappear as if it had never existed. The Superioress could not help seeing a clear indication of the Divine Will and gave the desired permission. The other nuns also began to realise now, what they were afterwards to understand more fully, that this suffering Sister was really the greatest glory of their Community. The little band of pilgrim-Sisters covered the entire distance to Rome on foot, relieving the monotony of the road by their prayers and hymns. Rita was then 69 years of age; she suffered excruciating pain from the wound which, though now invisible, seemed all the more severe for that very reason. Yet she was the happiest of the company, ever ready to cheer and assist the Sisters who were feeling the strain of the journey. At Rome she performed with the utmost devotion the exercises of the Jubilee, fully conscious of its value for her own soul, the souls in Purgatory and the needs of the Church. With what sentiments of love and veneration she must have visited the shrines of so many Saints, the tombs of the martyrs, the venerable Basilicas! Her outward appearance and manner were so edifying as to draw the attention of the people wherever she went, so much so that her fame reached the ears of Pope Nicholas V. He had her called to his presence, spoke most kindly to her, asked her prayers for himself and for the Church, and gave her a special blessing. This was the only visit of Rita to Rome; and it is more than a mere coincidence that on the occasion of another Jubilee four centuries and a half later-in the Holy Year of 1900-another great Pope, Leo XIII, in the presence of 80,000 people in the Basilica of St. Peter, inscribed her name among the Saints of the Church.

A Mysterious Illness.

Scarcely had she regained her Monastery when the terrible wound again became visible. By this time the prodigy could no longer be concealed, and people from all parts visited the Monastery to ask the prayers of the saintly nun. Many miracles took place. We read, for example, of an obsessed person freed from the tyranny of the evil one; of a poor hunchback relieved from his infirmity, of a dying child cured at a distance-the Saint merely saying with infinite tenderness to the griefstricken mother who had asked her prayers: “Go home, your child is cured.” But while Rita never refused to pray for all in sorrow or pain, she remained firm in her resolve not to ask for the removal or mitigation of her own sufferings. The most she prayed for was “that she might be freed from the body and be with Christ, provided that she was sufficiently crucified.” It was indeed God’s Will that she should suffer even more in order to crown His work in her. The pain of the wound seemed to increase, and to it was added another mysterious infirmity which the doctors were unable to identify or relieve, and which kept her confined to her poor pallet for the four years that remained to her on earth. This illness brought with it a trial she considered more severe than any bodily suffering; she was unable to receive Holy Communion at the altar, or even kneeling. When the Blessed Sacrament was brought to her cell she seemed confounded at what she considered a want of reverence in not being able to rise and adore, and after receiving it she fainted away in an ecstasy of love.

During this last period of her life, there took place some beautiful incidents which remind one forcibly of the words of the Canticle of Canticles (11, 5): “Stay me up with flowers, compass me about with apples: because I languish with love.” It was early Spring, and the snow still lingered in the peaks and valleys of the adjacent Appennines. A relative from Roccaporena had come to visit Rita and before departure asked if there was anything from the old home she would bring at her next visit. “Since you are so kind and charitable,” replied the dying Saint, “I ask you to bring me a rose from the garden of the little house that was once mine.” The visitor wondered; nevertheless on her return she paid a visit to the garden. What was her surprise to see a large rosebush, in full leaf, bearing in its summit one beautiful sweet-smelling rose! She brought the miraculous Rose to Cascia, where it was a source of consolation to Rita-she always loved flowers-and of reverent wonder to the Sisters of the Community. In commemoration of this event there is a beautiful ceremony carried out in Augustinian churches, and churches dedicated to the Saint on her Feast-day-the Blessing of the Roses. These are brought by clients who afterwards love to preserve them or send to distant friends for use, especially in cases of sickness.

During the following winter the same relative again visited the Saint, and before taking leave of her put the same question as before. “Yea,” answered Rita, “I pray you to bring from the garden some figs.” The visitor had now no shade of incredulity as on the former occasion. When she went to the garden she found all the fig-trees bare except one, which was covered with foliage and weighed down with fresh, ripe fruit. She hastened with a generous supply to Rita, who gave thanks to God and invited all the other Sisters to join with her in the repast. By such wonders God proclaimed the genuine sublimity of the sanctity of His servant. As a result, the number of visitors to the bedside of the Saint continued to increase. They came not only from Cascia and the surrounding districts, but from the most distant places, and no one was allowed to depart without a word of consolation or advice and a promise of her prayers.

Spring passed and the month of May -always a favourite month with Rita-came round once more. One beautiful day while the sunlight was playing on the walls of the poor cell, a brighter light, a light of heavenly splendour, flashed through it and at the same time the face of Rita became irradiated with an ineffable joy. She seemed to faint away, and on returning to herself told the assembled nuns that Jesus and Mary had appeared to her saying: “Within three days you will be in Paradise.” She immediately afterwards received with tears of gratitude and love, the Last Sacraments of the Church, and on the third day, clasping the Crucifix more closely to her breast, she peacefully rendered her blessed soul to God. It was Saturday, May 22nd, 1457, just at the completion of her 76th year, for it will be remembered that she was born on May 22nd, 1381.

Prodigies After Death.

Scarcely had death taken place when prodigies of all kinds began to occur. Many persons asserted that they saw a great flame ascending from the Monastery towards the sky as if to signify the triumphal passing of her soul. The church-bells of Cascia and surrounding country rang out in festive harmony, though moved by no human hands. The cell in which the body lay became bathed in celestial light, and there issued from it an odour of indescribable sweetness, which spread all over the Monastery. Thus that poor room, which none could formerly enter without doing violence to the feelings, became a place of irresistible attraction. But it was the body above all that held the attention and admiration of all who were privileged to gaze upon it. Though it had been emaciated to the last degree by age, intense suffering and mortification, it now assumed an appearance of youth and of marvellous freshness and beauty. The horrible wound in the forehead became completely transformed and seemed to glow like a ruby. Other miracles were not wanting during the succeeding days. Many who had suffered from incurable maladies were relieved. Among these was the relative who had brought the rose and figs to Rita. As she kissed the hand of the dead Saint, she found life and vigour returning to an arm that had been paralysed for years. She was perfectly cured. This event served to arouse still further the popular devotion and enthusiasm, and, in response to the general demand, the body was exposed in the church for many days.

When it was at last decided to enclose the body, the sisters felt it was only fitting that a precious coffin should be provided. It was then that a certain celebrated artist presented himself before them, declaring that if he were only freed from the arthritis that rendered his arms powerless, he would willingly make a casque that would be a work of art. He was cured at that instant and most faithfully did he fulfil his promise. He made two casques, an inside one of thick glass bound by iron clamps, and an outer one of oak, richly carved and ornamented. The whole work is one of the artistic triumphs of that great age of artistic skill. The body, enclosed within the casques, was then placed in the oratory where Rita had received the miraculous Thorn, but was made visible to the faithful through a grating opening into the church. On Feastdays and other special occasions the outer casque was often thrown open. Multitudes continued to come from all quarters to venerate the remains, and thus began a cult which, with the approval of the ecclesiastical authorities, lasted down the centuries until it received the supreme seal of the Church’s approval by the Canonization of Rita.

The Prodigy of Incorruption.

In 1626 was begun the first regular Process for the Beatification of Rita in accordance with the stricter procedure recently introduced. On this occasion there was an official recognition or examination of the body in presence of the Ecclesiastical Judges and of the principal civic authorities of Cascia. Their report, still extant, is an interesting document. First, there is a full description of the casque. Then follows a description of the body, which was found to be incorrupt. “The body of the Servant of God appears as if she had only just died. The flesh is white, with no sign of decomposition. The forehead, eyes with eyelids and eyelashes, nose, mouth, chin and entire face are perfectly preserved. In a like manner, the veils she was accustomed to wear in accordance with the Rule of the Augustinian Nuns are also intact, but they impede one from seeing the wound of the Thorn in the forehead. Also, one can distinguish each finger with nail, etc., in the hands. The feet are bare and similarly well preserved.” Another report dating from 1637 declares: “Not only is no part of the body missing or decomposed, but after 180 years she appears like one recently deceased, nay, rather like a person asleep.”

It is not for us to penetrate the designs of Providence. The fact remains, however, that when in 1743 there was a new official examination of the body it was found to be almost totally decomposed.

PRAYER TO SAINT RITA

Most powerful Protectress and mighty Advocate, St. Rita of Cascia! resplendent sun of the holy Catholic Church, mirror of patience, the scourge of demons, the health of the weak, the comfort of the needy, the admiration of the Saints and pattern of all holiness, beloved Spouse of Jesus Christ, crowned with and distinguished by one of His most sacred thorns: prostrate before thee with all my heart, I beseech thee to obtain for me holy resignation to the Divine Will in all the adversities of my life, and that I may contemplate with profit the Passion and Death of my God, which thou with so much and such rare fervour didst daily contemplate in the sacred crown of thorns. Pray, direct, O Beloved Advocate St. Rita the intention of these my humble prayers, that by the amendment of my past sinful life I may gain pardon of all my sins and may join you in Paradise to enjoy God for all eternity. Amen.

NOVENA TO SAINT RITA

O holy Protectress of those who are in utmost need, who shinest as a star of hope in the midst of darkness, in patience and fortitude as the Patriarch Job, scourge of devils, health of the sick, deliverer of those in extreme need, admiration of the saints and model of all states: with my whole heart and soul prostrate before thee and firmly united to the Adorable Will of my God, through the merits of my only Lord and Saviour, Jesus Christ, and in particular through the merits of His patient wearing of that tortuous crown of thorns, which thou with a tender devotion didst daily contemplate; through the merits of the most sweet Virgin Mary and thine own most excellent graces and virtues, I implore thee to obtain my earnest petition-provided it be for the greater glory of God and my own salvation (here make your request). Herein do thou guide and purify my intention, O holy protectress and most dear advocate, that I may obtain the pardon of all my sins and grace to persevere daily, as thou didst, in walking with courage and generosity and unwavering fidelity upon the heavenward path on which the love of my sweet Lord desires to lead me. Amen.

Nihil Obstat:

Jacobus Doran, Censor Deputatus.

Imprimi Potest:

@GULIELMUS,

Episcopus Fernensis.

Die 11 Januarii 1935. ********

Saint Rita of Cascia

ADVOCATE OF THE IMPOSSIBLE

INDEX

HER BIRTH

ST RITA OF CASCIA is universally called the ‘Saint of the Impossible,’ because her intercession has been found effectual with God in most desperate and hopeless cases. Born in Rocca Porena in the diocese of Spoleto, Italy, about the year 1381, Rita came to her parents, already advanced in age, as the answer to many years of prayer. The piety and charity of her father and mother were so well known that they were called the ‘peace-makers’ of their little village.

On the day after Rita’s baptism, as she lay in her cradle, a swarm of pure white bees alighted on her face and went in and out of her slightly opened mouth, as if to take honey from her lips. Doubtless this was to typify the sweetness of word and manner which later was to win for God so many souls, and the comfort she was to diffuse throughout the world.

EXAMPLE FOR VIRGINS

Rita’s parents gave her a good home training. At an early age she felt drawn to God, and spent many hours in the parish church. She did not care for the pastimes and sports of youth, and was free from vanity and love of fine clothes. Rita’s obedience to her parents was remarkable. At a tender age Rita began to perform bodily penances, particularly fasting. She gave alms to the poor, for whom she always showed most loving compassion. When only ten years old, she felt drawn to retirement and to a cloistered life, but love for her aged parents prevented her from making known her desires.

With her parents’ permission Rita fitted up a small oratory where she prayed and meditated. In thi s solitude her love for Jesus Crucified and her compassion for his bitter sufferings daily became more ardent. But after a year her duty of assisting her parents forced her from her loved solitude.

The desire to join a community of Augustinian nuns at Cascia was daily grow ing in Rita’s mind. But, pious though they were, her parents were deeply grieved at the thought of this separation. Tearful pleadings and the weight of their parental authority prevailed; they even induced her to marry. Hitherto Rita had been a model of virginal purity, filial love, reverence and obedience. She had now to follow another path, to become a bright example of virtue to all who lived in the married state.

MODEL FOR MOTHERS

The young man selected as Rita’s husband was passionate and quick-tempered, one well suited to try the patience and virtue of a saint. Just a few days after their marriage, he began to ill-treat her. It was only her love for the Crucified One that enabled her to bear this heavy cross. Sweetness of temper was the weapon she used to combat her husband’s cruelty. After many years, her virtue and long-suffering at length won her husband’s heart and brought unity and love into their home.

Gradually, to her great anxiety, Rita noticed that her two sons had inher ited their father’s quarrelsome disposition. She spared neither vigilance, words, nor punishments to curb their self-willed dispositions. She performed penances for their welfare, and was unwearying in acts of charity towards her neighbour.

PATTERN FOR WIDOWS

After eighteen years of married life, Rita’s husband was barbarously slain a short distance from their home. Grief filled Rita’s heart, particularly because of the uncertainty of his readiness to meet his Judge. But soon her trust in divine providence triumphed, and she bowed in resignation to God’s design. She generously pardoned the murderers of her husband and sought pardon for them from divine mercy.

To her consternation Rita discovered that her two sons, though young in years, were plotting vengeance against those who had murdered their father. In spite of all her advice and solicitude, the sorrowing mother could not touch her children’s vengeful hearts. In her grief, she turned to God and besought him either to change her children’s hearts or to take them from this world before they could accomplish the vengeance they were plotting.

Rita’s prayer was answered. Within a year both sons died, and, though touched by natural sorrow, she thanked God for taking them away from the dangers of sin and the risk of eternal damnation.

Rita’s life as a widow was short. During that time she spent herself in works of charity for her neighbour, in penances and in fasting. She lived in retirement and wore coarse mourning garments. Her former burning desire to enter the cloister now grew more vehement. She sought admission among the Augustinian nuns of Cascia, but was several times rejected. It was not their custom to receive widows.

MIRACULOUS ENTRY INTO THE CONVENT

One night, St John the Baptist, to whom Rita had been devoted from childhood, St Augustine and St Nicholas of Tolentino appeared to Rita. They conducted her to the convent of Cascia. Bolted gates and doors opened at their touch, and they left Rita in the chapel of the Augustinian nuns. What was the surprise of the Sisters the next morning on finding the oftrepulsed widow within their enclosure! Her miraculous entry being too evident to doubt God’s designs in her regard, they now accepted her unanimously.

THE PERFECT RELIGIOUS

In her religious life, Rita excelled in the perfect observance of her Rule and the holy vows, in charity for God and her sisters, in profound humility and sacrificial labour. Love of our suffering Saviour urged Rita to perform heroic penances. She possessed the spirit of prayer and contemplation in a high degree. In her cell she devised a little mountain with a cross to remind her of our Saviour’s torments in his Passion. With tearful compassion she followed our Lord, in spirit, to Calvary and to death.

MIRACULOUS WOUND

In 1443, when Rita attained her sixty-second year, God placed his seal upon her merits by a singular privilege. Once when the holy nun heard a sermon on the sufferings of our divine Saviour, compassion so filled her that she went to her cell to weep bitterly before the crucifix. She besought her Beloved, crowned with thorns, to let her share his torture. Thereupon one of the thorns from the crucifix detached itself and penetrated the left side of Rita’s forehead. She swooned from pain. This wound festered and emitted a foul odour, making it necessary for Rita to live apart from the community. It was humiliating but she bore it with joy until death and was happy in her solitude. When Rita wished to go to Rome to gain the jubilee indulgence, the wound healed almost instantly, and after her return reopened, proving its miraculous origin.

During the last five years of her life the saint was bedridden most of the time. Once an acquaintance asked if she wished anything. ‘Yes,’ Rita answered, ‘go to the garden of my house, at Rocca Porena; pluck a rose there and bring it to me.’ It was in the month of January during the rigours of winter. Amazed, the woman went and to her utter astonishment, found a full-blown red rose amidst the frozen bushes. She hastened to bring it to Rita, who joyfully took it as coming from the hands of her divine Spouse.

Another time Rita bade a woman bring her two figs from the same garden. Actually finding two ripe figs on a leafless tree, the woman plucked them with awe and pleasure and carried them to the sick nun. The religious and the people of the vicinity, on hearing of this second wonder praised God and conceived a great veneration for the dying saint.

Three days before Rita’s death, Our Lord, accompanied by the Blessed Virgin, ap peared to her and promised her the joys of heaven. Rita died May 22, 1457, aged seventy-six years, forty-four of which had been spent in the religious life.

MIRACLES AFTER DEATH

Crowds hastened to venerate Rita’s body before its burial. The noxious wound in the forehead now shone like a brilliant jewel and exhaled a heavenly fragrance. A close relative of Rita’s confidently leaned over the holy body and at once recovered the use of her arms which had been paralysed for many years! Many other astounding miracles were wrought before the remains were entombed. Rita was solemnly beatified on July 16, 1628.

In late years devotion to St Rita has increased, and she has won for herself the title: Saint of the Impossible. Many instances are related of how the saint rendered aid in the last adversities. Conversions of hardened sinners and of those who had led dissolute lives are no less numerous than cures of bodily ills.

CANONISATION OF ST RITA

The universal devotion to St Rita and the many wonders wrought through her intercession enkindled in the hearts of the thousands of devotees of the humble Augustinian nun the ardent desire to see her elevated to the honours of the altar. Great was their joy when on May 24, 1990 the Decree of Canonisation was published. Her feast is celebrated on May 22.

In conclusion, we quote these memor able words from the Decree: ‘St Rita of Cascia as maiden, wife, mother and nun was so pleasing and so beloved by Jesus Christ that he deigned to signalise her not only with the seal of his love, but especially with the seal of his Passion. St Rita merited this great privilege on account of her singular humility, her complete detachment and her admirable penance. However, the virtues which made St Rita particularly pleasing to God were her love for her neighbour and her devotion to Jesus Crucified.’

DEVOTIONS IN HONOUR OF ST RITA

NOVENA PRAYERS TO ST RITA

One or several of the following may be used as a novena.

O holy protectress of those who are in utmost need! Shining as a star of hope in the midst of darkness, in patience and fortitude, like the patriarch Job; scourge of devils; health of the sick; deliverer of those in extreme need; wonder of saints and model of all states! With confident trust and firmly united to the adorable will of God, I implore thy help, through the merits of my Lord and Saviour, Jesus Christ, and in particular of that painful Crown of Thorns which thou contemplated with tender devotion. Through the merits of the Blessed Virgin Mary and thine own graces and virtues, I implore thee heart and soul to obtain my earnest petition, if it be for the greater glory of God and my salvation (there make your request).

Guide and purify my intentions, O holy protectress and most dear advocate, that I may obtain the pardon of all my sins and the grace to persevere daily, as thou didst, in walking with courage, generosity, and unwavering fidelity upon the heavenward path on which Our Lord desires to lead me. Amen.

INVOCATIONS TO ST RITA ST RITA, ADVOCATE OF THE IMPOSSIBLE, PRAY FOR US

Our Father, Hail Mary, Glory be to the Father . . . (three times).

PRAYER TO ST RITA

Holy patroness of those in need, St Rita, so humble, pure and patient, whose pleadings with thy divine Spouse are irresistible, obtain for us from our Crucified Lord our request. (Mention it.) Be propitious towards us for the greater glory of God, and we promise to honour thee and to sing thy praises forever. Amen.

Our Father, Hail Mary, Glory be to the Father . . . (three times).

LITANY IN HONOUR OF ST RITA FOR PRIVATE USE ONLY

Lord, have mercy.

Christ, have mercy.

Lord, have mercy.

Christ, hear us.

Christ, graciously hear us. God the Father Almighty, have mercy on us.

God the Son, Redeemer of the world, who said: ‘Ask, and you shall receive, seek, and you shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you,’ have mercy on us.

God the Holy Ghost, Spirit of wisdom, understanding, counsel and knowledge, have mercy on us. Holy Trinity, one God, infinite in power, have mercy on us.

Holy Mary, who never refuses a petition, pray for us.

Immaculate virgin, Queen of heaven and earth, pray for us.

Our Lady of the Sacred Heart, pray for us.

Holy Angels, spirits of humility, pray for us.

Holy Principalities, protectors of religious communities, pray for us.

Holy Virtues, angels of fortitude, pray for us.

Holy Cherubim, angels of light, pray for us.

St Rita, advocate of the impossible, pray for us.

St Rita, consecrated to God, pray for us.

St Rita, bride of the suffering Saviour, pray for us.

St Rita, filled with compassion for the sufferings of Christ, pray for us.

St Rita, crowned by an angel with a crown of thorns, pray for us.

St Rita, who bore the wounds of His mysterious crown on thy forehead, pray for us.

St Rita, who firmly trusted in the loving mercy of Jesus, pray for us.

St Rita, who importuned the dying Saviour with ardent supplications, pray for us.

St Rita, who never doubted a gracious answer to thy prayer, pray for us.

That we may renounce all self-love, pray for us, St Rita.

That we may confidently trust in the promise of Jesus, pray for us, St Rita.

That the enemies of our salvation may be put to confusion, pray for us, St Rita.

That we may ever perfectly fulfil the will of God, pray for us, St Rita.

That our inclinations to evil may be destroyed, pray for us, St Rita.

That the Faith in all its purity may be spread over our land, pray for us, St Rita.

That holy zeal may fill our hearts, pray for us, St Rita.

That we may infuse a holy love for chastity into all who come in contact with us, pray for us, St Rita. That in all our actions and omissions we may endeavour to promote a tender charity, pray for us, St Rita. That we may be delivered from all avarice, vainglory and rash judgment, pray for us, St Rita.

That great saints may rise in our land, who will edify the people and dispel the darkness of unbelief, pray for us, St Rita.

That we may be delivered from all interior enemies, pray for us, St Rita.

Lamb of God, Who takest away the sins of the world, spare us, O Lord.

Lamb of God, Who takest away the sins of the world, graciously hear us, O Lord.

Lamb of God, Who takest away the sins of the world, have mercy on us.

V. Pray for us, St Rita.

R. That we may be made worthy of the promises of Christ.

Let us pray

O God, who in Thine infinite tenderness deign to hearken to the prayer of St Rita and to grant to her supplication that which seems impossible to human foresight, skill and efforts, in reward for her compassionate love and firm reliance upon Thy promise; have pity upon our adversity and succour us in our calamities, that unbelievers may know that Thou art the recompenser of the humble, the defence of the helpless and the strength of those who trust in Thee. Through Jesus Christ Our Lord. Amen.

PRAYER TO ST RITA

O glorious St Rita, who shared in a marvellous manner the sorrowful Passion of our Lord Jesus Christ, obtain for me the grace to suffer in patience the miseries of this life, and be my refuge in all my necessities. Amen. Our Father, Hail Mary, Glory be to the Father . . . (three times).

Saint Rose of Lima

ANNONYMOUS

INDEX

THE LIFE OF SAINT ROSE OF LIMA APPEALS ESPECIALLY TO AMERICANS, FOR THIS SERVANT OF GOD WAS THE FIRST AMERICAN PRONOUNCED A SAINT BY THE INFALLIBLE VOICE OF HOLY MOTHER, THE CHURCH. MOREOVER, THIS CHARMING GIRL-SAINT HAS BEEN DECLARED THE PATRONESS OF THE NEW WORLD. BUT, BESIDES THE LOCAL INTEREST ATTACHING TO HER LIFE, ROSE CANNOT FAIL TO WIN OUR ADMIRATION AND LOVE, UNITING, AS SHE DOES, THE INTREPID FORTITUDE OF A SOLDIER OF JESUS CHRIST WITH THE SIMPLICITY AND WINSOMENESS OF A LITTLE CHILD. WE KNOW THAT COWARDICE NEVER FOUND A PLACE IN THE HEART OF THIS FOLLOWER OF THE CRUCIFIED. SHE MADE NO TRUCE WITH THE ENEMIES OF SALVATION, AND YET AT THE SAME TIME SHE EVER RETAINED THE GUILELESSNESS AND MEEKNESS OF HER CHILDHOOD. SO FORCIBLY DID THIS MAIDENLY GENTLENESS IMPRESS THE POETIC MIND OF FATHER FABER THAT HE DEEMED IT HER MOST STRIKING CHARACTERISTIC.

Then, too, the life of this child of Saint Dominic should prove interesting to all, for hers was a humble, retired, and even commonplace life, filled with its round of duties and simple joys. In fact, it was a state of life not unlike that which falls to the lot of many of us unremarkable mortals. Unlike her patroness, the Seraph of Siena, it was not her glory to counsel the Vicar of Christ and to heal the heart-wound in the Church ; nor was she destined to rule over a mighty people, like the saint-queen, Elizabeth of Hungary. Hers, rather, was the hidden, quiet. silent life of Nazareth. What needful lessons may not our proud and frivolous age learn from this humble and prudent American maiden!

Saint Rose was born on April 20, 1586, in the royal city of Lima, Peru. Her parents were Gaspar and Maria de Flores, persons of very respectable lineage, though in rather straitened circumstances, due to reverse of fortune. The infant was not very robust, so it was baptized in its home, receiving the name of Isabel, which is the Spanish for Elizabeth. She received this name in honor of her aunt, Isabel Herera, who acted as her godmother. On Pentecost, which the Spaniards poetically style “the Easter of Roses,” the little child was brought to the Church of San Sebastian to receive the solemn rites of the Church. The good priest who baptized her had a few years previously enjoyed the privilege of pouring the regenerating waters of baptism on the head of an infant who was destined by God to be raised to the altars of the Church, and whom we now venerate as St. Martin de Porres

But how strange the name of Isabel sounds to us who are so familiar with the name of Rose! The beautiful story of this change of name is well worth recounting : One day, when the child was about three months old, her mother and some friends were sitting around the trundle-bed of the sleeping babe, gazing in admiration at her marvelous beauty, when a rose was seen to hover in the air above the child’s head and descend to kiss the cheek of the little Saint. The mysterious rose then disappeared as it had come. There is no need to add that all were astonished and overjoyed at the miracle. Her mother pressed the child of predilection to her bosom and in her joy promised never again to call her except by the poetic name of “Rose.”

Years afterwards, when the little girl was being confirmed by another saint -Turibius, the Archbishop of the city- he spontaneously gave her the same sweet name, thus manifesting that it was the Divine Will that she should be so named. Aptly, then, does the Church apply to her the words of Holy Writ : “Hear me, ye divine offspring, and bud forth as the rose planted by the brooks of waters.”1

This remarkable infant, as the years passed, became the general favorite not only among the elder folks, but also among her brothers and sisters and other play-mates; for, besides being a singularly pretty child, she was endowed with a very winsome way. Moreover, she was never given to selfishness and other petty faults so common among children. All who came in contact with her felt an indescribable awe inspired by the presence of this heavenly child.

Even when barely able to walk, little Rose manifested an intense love for Our Divine Lord, and would delight in gazing upon a picture of the Redeemer of mankind with His Sacred Head crowned with thorns. It was also her custom to steal away from her games to some hidden corner of the playground to lisp her childish prayers. But God, who wished Rose to become a great saint, soon led her along the rugged pathway of suffering. Indeed, she was only three years of age when we find her courageously hiding a severely crushed thumb under her frock and bravely keeping back her tears lest she should startle her rather easily excited mother. Then, when the wound festered and it was necessary to call in a surgeon to remove the nail, the little heroine bore the sharp pain without the least sign of 1. Ecclus. xxxix, 17. reluctance, and we have the testimony of the doctor that in all his years of practice he had never witnessed such heroic disregard for pain.

It was only shortly after this that the brave little tot was afflicted by a malignant abscess back of the ear, but though the pain was intensified by a mistaken remedy, so that a grievous inflammation set in, Rose refrained from groaning or even altering her position in bed, lest she should disturb her tired mother. When the terrible state of the sore was seen through the removal of the bandages, her horrified mother asked her why she had not cried out with pain, but the child merely replied : “Our Lord’s Crown of Thorns was much worse.”

But this patient child had her joys as well as sorrows. She enjoyed the tender love of her mother, who, though at times inclined to be irritable, nevertheless loved her daughter ardently. Besides, ten brothers and sisters were given her, and upon them she lavished the wealth of her affection. She never wearied of assisting them in their work and delighted to join in their play, cheerfully yielding her own desires and preferences to please them. Then, too, she was much sought after by the children of the neighborhood. In fact, it was while in the company of some girl friends that Rose received the call from on high to give herself unreservedly to the Spouse of all beauty. It happened in this wise: One day, when the children were gathered together in the garden, Rose, little child that she was, tried to persuade the girls to take the view that she did in a certain matter; but they would not heed her words of admonition and playfully threw some mud and dust at her, much to her annoyance, for she was always scrupulously neat. Her brother, Ferdinand, noticing her momentary vexation, exclaimed in the tones of a preacher : “Rose, a holy girl would not mind a little dirt on her head; she would know that fine hair is all vanity.” These words, uttered at random and in jest, struck deep into the heart of the little Saint, and, realizing that they were the whisperings of the Divine Dove, she forthwith cut off all her beautiful tresses, and then and there vowed perpetual virginity to the Bridegroom of her soul. With all truth could this docile child cry out : “My heart is ready, O Lord; my heart is ready !”2

Saint Rose now began in earnest to follow in the footsteps of the glorious seraph, Catherine of Siena, whom she had chosen as her model in the following of the Crucified. It seems that the people of Lima had a tender devotion to this great Saint, and that Rose had learned of her wonderful life from her elders. Now, some months before the complete conversion narrated above, Maria de Flores decided to teach her daughter how to read, but after a few lessons she grew impatient and gave up the task. What, then, was her mother’s surprise when one day little Rose came running in with a book to where she was seated, read a page of it for her, showed her a sample of her writing, and related how Our Lord Himself had taught her. Then it was that Rose began to read the wonderful life-story of the Maid of Siena and to learn of the means that she had used to attain to such intimate union with God. As the child’s knowledge of the Sienese Saint became fuller, the more did she wish to imitate her ways of holiness, and so when the sweet grace of true conversion flooded her heart, after the little incident recorded above, Rose, like Catherine, vowed perpetual virginity to God and resolved to spare no pains in modeling her life after Catherine’s.

Shortly after Saint Rose had made her secret vow, her family removed to a place just outside Lima, called Guanta, where there were gold mines and mills. Though the location was noted for its beautiful scenery, it seems that the climate was rather damp and cold. Rose was attacked with a rheumatic fever, so that she was unable to move her limbs. Her mother thought to cure her by wrapping her in heavy furs, and gave her the injunction not to remove them on any account. The cure, however, proved worse than the affliction and caused a general suppuration of the skin. Rose obediently endured this purgatory for four days, when her mother was shocked to find her in such a state, and marveled at the wonderful Job-like patience of her young daughter.

Even from her tenderest years Rose had exhibited a self-control in matters of food and drink that was exceptional; she had the kindness to keep her fruits and sweetmeats for her little brothers and sisters. But now, when she was six years of age, she determined further to mortify her appetite by fasting on bread and water three times a week, namely, on Wednesdays, Fridays, and Saturdays. Moreover, she never partook of this frugal repast, if such a name it deserves, until evening, and she made sure that the bread was stale and the water tepid.

Although we do not know when this little heroine made her First Communion, it is certain that she was rather under the age when children were then accustomed to be admitted to the Sacred Banquet. What joy must have flooded her heart on that occasion we can better imagine than express. It surely must have been like that of Blessed Imelda, if 2. Ps. Lvi, 8. we are to judge in the light of subsequent events, for one day after having received Holy Communion Rose beheld Our Divine Lord, who told her that He was well pleased with her fastings, and that He would henceforward sustain her body as well as soul by the Bread of Life. This noble child then made a vow never to eat meat unless, of course, obliged to do so by obedience. Thus we see her further following the footsteps of Catherine of Siena.

When Rose’s mother heard of the promise her daugh ter had made of never eating flesh meat, she was naturally surprised, for we must remember that Rose was of a delicate constitution and was almost chronically ailing. So her anxious mother in all good faith told her child that she must eat what was placed on the table. Rose obediently did so, but immediately her stomach refused to retain the food. Some time afterwards Rose was again taken ill, this time very dangerously so. When she was convalescing, the doctors ordered her to eat some very nourishing meat, that she might the more rapidly regain her strength. Our Saint meekly obeyed the prescription, but endured such tortures that, had the command not been recalled, death would undoubtedly have occurred.

“So it is that God,” remarks one of her biographers ,3”when He has marked out for His own all-wise purposes some special road to sanctification for a soul, interferes occasionally Himself in what may seem like trivial matters, to prevent interference on the part of creatures with the carrying out of His design. Whether the strength of a sick girl should or should not be restored by the eating of flesh meat might appear in itself a question not likely to have an important bearing on her future spiritual life; but her Maker has appointed strict abstinence from this particular food as the path by which Rose is to go to Him; and to preserve her obedience to His appointment intact, He thenceforth endows it with unwholesome qualities for her which it has not in its own nature.”

When Rose was about fifteen or sixteen years of age her mother made her accompany her in paying visits of a social nature. Rose would have preferred to remain at home, working and praying, but her mother was insistent. She wished her attractive daughter to be a social favorite, and with this end in view she secured expensive clothes and ornaments for her. Nothing was further from Rose’s thoughts, for she never forgot for an instant her youthful vow to our Saviour. So, when unable to escape these visits, she made it a point to mortify herself in some hidden way, so that she might not be guilty of vanity. Once, when she failed to do this and was putting on a pair of perfumed gloves, they so burned her hands with an unseen flame that they had to be quickly torn off. Ever afterward this saintly maiden performed her secret penances when on these visits of pleasure.

Finally, as these visits grew more frequent and protracted, for it seems that Maria de Flores was much addicted to this form of entertainment and that it was much in vogue in the city of Lima at that time, Saint Rose determined to see if she could not put an end to it. Accordingly she resolved to disfigure her lustrous eyes by rubbing pepper in them. We may imagine how angry her mother was when she found out what she had done. She told Rose that her eyesight might have been ruined; but the servant of God answered that she would much rather be blind than continue to use her eyes in beholding the vanities of the world! Thus she succeeded in escaping these displeasing visitings with their accompanying fine clothes.

For a while now our heroine had a little peace and was allowed to dress in the rough apparel of a working-woman ; but her mother had not entirely relinquished the idea of securing an advantageous marriage for her beautiful daughter, and so when several offers were made for the hand of Rose, her mother did not fail to urge her to consider them. For a time the affair was deferred without a positive refusal on the part of our Saint, but things were brought to a climax when the mother of a very wealthy young man asked that Rose become her daughter. The whole family looked upon this offer as a blessing from Heaven, for thus their poverty would be relieved, and they could once more assume their proper social position. Rose had now to give a final and resolute refusal. She explained to her parents that she had irrevocably bound herself to Our Lord by a vow of chastity and could never for a moment consider an earthly marriage. When they heard this, Rose became the object of insults and even blows, all the more painful to her tender and affectionate heart because they came from those she loved most dearly. She was charged with ingratitude and selfishness, and her brothers and sisters upbraided her with hard-heartedness for failing to assist the family in its straitenedcircumstances. Verily, Rose’s most powerful enemies were those of her own household. It takes but little thought to realize what she must have undergone, torn, as she was, between the natural love for her father and mother and the supernatural love for the Lord of all. But this valiant girl never for a second wavered in her fidelity to her 3. Capes, F. M.: Life of Saint Rose, p. 60.

Beloved. Indeed,

“Demons and all the might of hell

Could never take this citadel.

Alone, this gentle, high-born maid

By worldly scorn was undismayed.”4

We may be sure that the Infant Jesus consoled her in her sorrow, and gave her, while she was treated with disgrace, that peace which passeth all understanding.

We do not know how long this period of trial lasted, but finally, when her parents saw that her decision was adamantine, they ceased persecuting her and permitted her to do as her conscience directed. Thus was settled the question of marriage and never more was she to be afflicted by their importunities in this regard.

But Rose’s life up to this period was not wholly taken up with the struggle to keep her troth with the Child Jesus. She was always busy about the house, helping all that she was able. She was ever ready to assist her brothers and sisters and also often succeeded in obtaining from their rather hot-tempered father forgiveness for their faults. Without preaching, Rose succeeded in inculcating in their innocent hearts many a lesson of goodness and truth. Her mother, whom she loved most dearly and who, despite her many faults, was a good mother, Rose helped in the management of their large household, for the family was never able to have more than one servant. This was a very religious woman, named Marianna, who did all she could to encourage the Saint in her endeavors to arrive at perfection. Rose, out of gratitude, lent a willing hand in the menial occupations which fell to the lot of the maid. It is a beautiful and inspiring picture, the noble girl cheerfully working side by side with the humble servant. It is a scene on which we would wish to dwell, for it is all too rare in this haughty age of ours. Rose, then, was a model girl-humble, obedient in everything that did not intrude between her and her Redeemer, and diligent in all her tasks.

Of these tasks two especially took up the time of Rose de Flores. She was an expert in needlework and spent many an hour embroidering with silks. It was well known in Lima that Rose was so deft with the needle that she could execute in a half hour what any other worker would require an hour for accomplishing.

Moreover, so exquisite was the art with which she wrought the roses, lilies, and other flowers in her designs that it was whispered about that she had received the aid of angels. Indeed, in the light of the marvelous gifts vouchsafed from on high to this eager lover of the Crucified, this explanation was the only logical one.

Another duty that received Saint Rose’s attention was the cultivating of flowers in her father’s garden. Here, too, the special blessing of Heaven was manifested. Rose’s flowers were of the rarest hues and perfumes and always brought the best prices at the flower market. It is even related that her plants often bloomed out of the regular season. Thus she helped to support the numerous household by herembroideries and bouquets. “It is but a little trade, certainly, but my heavenly Spouse’s goodness makes the profits large,” are the grateful words of the Saint.

“Why are there so few saints today? Because ours is an age of luxury, of self -seeking-an easy and effeminate age. Penance and mortifications are spectres that terrify us” ;5 but to the mind of the heroine of Lima they presented no such aspect. She realized that “a saint must be essentially and necessarily a man or woman of penance”6-a victim on the altar of sacrifice. She knew that “self must abdicate if God is to reign.”7 Hence we have seen how Rose, even from her tenderest years, took to heart the words of the Man of Sorrows: “If any man will come after Me, let him deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me.”8

But now, as the years passed by and Rose approached womanhood, she sought ever more and more to resemble her Divine Lover. Her food was the coarsest and most unpalatable that she could concoct. To the rough crust-that she allowed herself she added bitter herbs that she grew in the garden plot. Moreover, to deaden her sense of taste and to imitate Christ, who was given a draught of vinegar mingled with gall, Saint Rose daily rinsed her mouth with the gall of a sheep. In addition, this holy maid began to wear a hair shirt and to scourge her innocent body with a discipline of heavy-knotted cords. Several times in the day she applied this lash in memory of the Second Sorrowful Mystery.

But the severest struggle that Rose had to wage was to overcome sleep. Even as a little child, she was wont to creep out of her downy bed to sleep on the hard, cold floor, and now, as she approached her nineteenth year, she constructed 4. From Matin Hymn for Saint Rose’s Feast. 5. Proctor, Fr., O. P.: Introduction to Life of Saint Rose.

6. Ibidem, 7. Ibidem. 8. Luke ix, 23. a bed that would render the little sleep she took as uncomfortable as possible. It consisted of an old box, in which she placed broken earthenware and gnarled pieces of wood, with a block for a pillow. Thus, by curtailing her sleep Rose found time for her many acts of devotion and service about the house. Nor must we think that after a long day of toil it was a pleasure for her to rest her weary body on this uninviting couch. True it is that she received great super-natural helps, but these perfect and do not destroy nature.

Indeed, one night when Rose was tempted to give up this rude resting place and was well-nigh overcome, Our Lord appeared to her and said : “Remember, My child, that I was not content with merely lying on stone and wood; My feet and hands were pierced, and I bore unspeakable sufferings till the very moment when I gave up My spirit. Think of this, My child, when you are inclined to yield.”

These penances would seem to be sufficient for even the most devoted ascetic, but Rose found still another way to liken herself to the Redeemer of mankind. We may recall how as a baby she was often found gazing with pity on a picture of the thorn-crowned Saviour that hung in hermother’s room. Her holy ingenuity now devised a way in which to imitate that ignominious crowning with thorns which Christ suffered. She fashioned a circlet of some pliable metal and studded it with sharp points. Thus she was kept ever mindful of the pain that the Sacred Head endured for our salvation, and further copied her pattern, Catherine Benincasa, who preferred a crown of thorns to one of roses. In view, then, of these penitential exercises practiced by the First Flower of America, most appropriate are the words sung by Holy Mother Church in her honor:

“With Christ, the dying Lord of all,

On Calvary’s gloomy height she mourns ;

She shares His stripes and bitter gall,

And on her brow the piercing thorns.”9

Saint Rose had never any doubt as to her divine call to suffering and mortification. She had eagerly responded to the invitation of Holy Writ, “Be converted to Me with all your heart, in fasting, and in weeping, and in mourning.”10 Although naturally of delicate health, weak in body and physically feeble, she did not shrink from the awful share in Christ’s Passion allotted to her. Now, however, she began to hear the further vocation to the religious life. Naturally her thoughts turned to the Order of the glorious patriarch, Saint Dominic, of whom Dante writes :

“And I speak of him as the laborer,

Whom Christ in His own garden chose to be His helpmate.

Messenger, he seemed, and friend

Fast knit to Christ ; and the first love he showed

Was after the first counsel that Christ gave. . . .”11

When it was noised abroad that the de Flores’ saintly daughter was thinking of joining some religious organization, all the convents in Lima wished to secure such a treasure for themselves. The niece of Saint Turibius, the great Archbishop of the Royal City, was at this time founding a convent of the daughters of Saint Clare and earnestly begged Rose to help her in the foundation. The Augustinian Convent of the Incarnation also eagerly sought for Rose, and it seems that she finally decided to join this holy community. So she went to the Rosary altar of the Dominican church in order to bid Our Lady farewell; but, as she was about to leave the church, she found that she was unable to move from the spot, nor could the gigantic efforts of her brother, who had accompanied her, avail. Then the idea flashed across her mind that this was our Blessed Lady’s method of showing her that she was to remain in the world as a Tertiary. No sooner had this devoted client of Mary made this decision than she was released by this mysterious force and permitted to return home. So she was admitted as a novice into the Third Order of Saint Dominic by her confessor, Father Velasquez, in the same Rosary chapel.

Rose was now in her twentieth year. But she was destined to be tried yet more in the fires of temptation. Indeed, Rose herself tells us: “I have bought the habit of our holy Father, Saint Dominic, with so many sighs and tears, with so many fasts and prayers, in order that I may lead a hidden life.” She now became a prey to scruples and worries as to the perfection required of her as a Dominican; and, besides, her humility was greatly affected, for whenever she went out of the house people would stop and point her out as a living saint. Her sensitive soul recoiled at this publicity and 9. From Vesper Hymn of Saint Rose’s Feast. 10. Joel ii, 12. 11. Paradiso, xii, 86–69 made her fear for the purity of her intention.

Do we wonder, then, that when Don Gonzalez de Massa, a wealthy friend of her family, offered to provide a dowry for her if she would enter the Convent of the Carmelites, that Rose wavered in her purpose to become a Dominican and would have accepted this kind offer had not God, the Light of the World, shown her His Will in a way that could leave no room for doubt. While humbly praying for light and guidance, Our Lord deigned to wrap her into ecstasy in the sight of all. Like the Apostle of the Nations, Rose never revealed “the secret words which it is not granted to man to utter,”12 but ever after she never hesitated to continue hidden in the world as a simple Tertiary of Saint Dominic. Without any further hesitation, then, she was professed a member of the Third Order.

Many holy women now began to frequent the home of the de Flores family to find guidance and encouragement in the spiritual life from the words and example of the Saint. Among these pious ladies was the wife of the wealthy Gonzalez de Massa, who took an almost motherly interest in the young Tertiary. Although Rose enjoyed the spiritual companionship of these good women, yet she deemed it incompatible with her state in life that so much time should be occupied in these visits to her home. Her heart, like the hermits of the Thebaid, longed for solitude, that she might uninterruptedly commune with the Maker of the Universe. She realized what Saint Bernard expressed in his memorable words : “O beata solitudo ! O sola beatitude” So Rose’s thoughts turned to a favorite retreat or shrine of her childhood’s days, situated in the garden, where she used to steal away from her companions to offer up her youthful devotions. Why could she not have a similar, though a more substantial, cell erected for herself? Rose determined to ask her mother for the de-sired hermitage. Maria, however, gave her a decided refusal. Nothing daunted, she had recourse to the Mother of Good Counsel, and, having been miraculously confirmed in her determination, she begged her confessor, Father Lorenzana, and the de Massas to obtain the consent of her mother. Without protest the coveted permission was granted and the little abode that was to be the scene of so many miracles, both of nature and of grace, was soon built in a corner of the garden. It was small indeed, being only five feet long and four in width. When her confessor commented upon its size, Saint Rose gaily responded: “It is large enough for the Beloved of my soul and me.”

Here, in this little retreat, Rose was accustomed to spend the livelong day, returning to the house only at nightfall. Her whole day was one of ceaseless activity, taken up with her devotions and mortifications, her sewing and making nosegays of her flowers. After she had received the white habit of the Order of Truth, she daily recited the Divine Office. We can but faintly imagine the joy and peace that flooded her soul as she chanted the praises of her Love and meditated on the wonders of God in His saints. What devotion, what eager care and attention, she must have given to this labor of love can be fully realized only by those who have drunk deep of the waters of eternal life and have, like her, tasted and seen how sweet the Lord is.

Moreover, as a child of Mary, Rose especially loved the Little Office of the Blessed Virgin and daily recited it in honor of the Mother of her Spouse. Particularly pleasing must this beautiful trait be to the members of the Third Order, whose daily task it is to render these praises to the Immaculate. But the most wonderful characteristic of the Flower of Christ was her extraordinary application to mental prayer. Her constant recollection, “her deep, earnest, and all but perfect union with God,”13 may be compared to a sweet odor perpetually exhaled by this Rose of surpassing beauty. Her entire life was a seeking of her Last End, a lifting of her heart and mind to God. He was ever present in her thoughts ; He was the constant motive of her every act, and her pure soul never ceased longing for union with Him.

We have seen the tender love and confidence that the Saint reposed in the Mother of God, and are not surprised to find that especially noteworthy was her constancy in reciting the chaplet of Our Lady. She endeavored also to make others acquainted with this efficacious form of prayer. Another favorite devotion peculiar to this Spouse of the Crucified was the recital of one hundred and fifty Divine Perfections, which were written down for her by her confessor. These she loved to repeat, meditating the while on the power and goodness of the bountiful Creator. Saint Rose also weaved spiritual garments for the Christ Child and His ever-blessed Mother. These resembled what we today style spiritual bouquets. They consisted of prayers, good works, acts of mortification, strokes of the discipline- all arranged in a definite and suitable order to represent a garment.

12. 2 Cor. xii, 4. 13. Capes, F. M.: L c., p. 15.

Perhaps it may have occurred to the reader that our Saint was more of a Carthusian, living as she did, alone in her little hermitage, than a Dominican, whose duty it is to combine the active with the contemplative life. This objection, however, might be answered by recalling to mind that Rose was a model of unflagging industry and we must also remember that God alone knows the innumerable hosts of souls that are saved by those who, hidden in the cloister, constantly pray for the world’s salvation. But Rose was a Tertiary, not a cenobite, and her love for the conversion of sinners, for whom her Spouse had died, soon found a means for external activity. Her heart instinctively turned to the poor Indian women, outcast and in direst poverty, diseased and often still unconverted. Rose therefore asked her mother to allow her the use of some empty rooms in the house, that she might bring these unfortunates thither, nurse them, and instruct them in their religious duties. At first her mother was enraged at the proposition, but Rose pleaded so earnestly for these poor creatures that the permission was given her. Moreover, this winsome child often succeeded in coaxing her mother to supply her with clothing, bandages, and other necessities. Rose also sought out those families of noble extraction which had suffered a reverse of fortune and were in the greatest need, and who, like the unjust steward, were ashamed to beg. She tactfully attended to their wants without wounding their sensibilities.

Many and astounding were the miraculous powers that Our Lord bestowed upon this apostolic maiden. She had the gift of penetrating the hearts of sinners, and frequently made use of the gift of prophecy to assist her friends when they were in difficulty. Thus, when the de Massas were perplexed over an appointment to a distant city that would necessitate a long separation from the family, Rose assured them that the commission would never really be undertaken. Especially noteworthy was the prophecy which Saint Rose made in regard to a convent for Dominican Sisters. She foretold that such a convent would be erected in Lima and dedicated to God under the patronage of her own Saint Catherine. When her mother chided her for making a fool of herself and her family by her idle talk, Rose told her in her own charming, simple way that she would say no more about it, but added that Maria would live to see the accomplishment of the prophecy, and would, moreover, become a religious within its walls. As we may well imagine, these words did not please her very much, but time proved that Rose was no senseless prattler.

When our Saint was in her twenty-fifth year, a great number of the native Peruvians rebelled against their Spanish conquerors and, withdrawing to the wilds, returned to their former savagery and idolatry. Saint Turibius, the Archbishop of the city, did his utmost to show them the folly of their ways; but in vain. It would seem that the demons of hell were allowed to concentrate their energies to destroy Lima, for a wave of irreligion and crime swept over the city, so that even the civil authorities feared lest it should be chastised by the Hand of God. Holy men, inspired by an all-wise Providence, came to preach penance to the wanderers.

But their words, replete with the terrors of the awful Judgment, served only to fill the hearts of the transgressors with consternation, and thus augmented the confusion and disorder already existing in the erring city. It was then that Rose, seeing the just demands of an all-merciful God, offered herself as a victim for the unhappy people. Scourging her innocent body till her blood reddened the earth, she prayed unceasingly that the city of her birth might be spared. Her heavenly Spouse was pleased to accept this self-immolation of His beloved, and vouchsafed peace to the afflicted metropolis. The Holy Spirit breathed like a gentle zephyr upon the hearts of the rebellious people, moving them to repentance and to return again to their former allegiance. Thus, like our latest saint, the Maid of Domremy*; Rose did her part to save her beloved land from the armies of Satan :

“And when the so lemn and deep church-bell

Entreats the soul to pray,

The midnight phantoms feel the spell,

The shadows sweep away.

“Down the broad Vale of Tears afar

The spectral camp is fled ;

Faith shineth as a morning star,

Our ghastly fears are dead!” 14

* “The Maid of Domremy”-that is, St. Joan of Arc, who was canonized in 1920.

14. Longfellow : “The Beleaguered City.”

As the earthly life of Saint Rose began to draw to a close, she redoubled her penances. Instead of the knotted cords, two chains were fashioned into a discipline and in the solitude of her cell she was able to inflict this form of voluntary punishment upon herself unmolested. For days at a time she would partake of no food at all, especially before receiving Holy Communion, for often she was deprived of this Heavenly Bread because she had no one to accompany her to the church, and it was an ironbound rule of those times that no young girl should appear in the streets unescorted. Often, as she approached to the Holy Table, she was so weak and emaciated that her brother had to assist her to the altar rail ; but no sooner had she partaken of the Sacred Host than her physical strength was restored. Her countenance was suffused with a super-natural light and glowed with such an exquisitely attractive love that it seemed to those beholding her that she was made a partaker, even while still in this vale of sorrow, of the vision of the Blessed.

When her confessor, at her mother’s request, forbade her to use the iron chain as a scourge, our Saint em ployed it as a girdle around her waist, drawing it tightly and fastening it with a little lock. She then threw the key away, lest she should be tempted to remove it. Moreover, the metal crown that she devised in her girlhood days she deemed insufficient, as the sun of her earthly existence began to set; so she had a triple circlet of silver fashioned for her, with thirty-three sharp spikes-in honor of Our Lord’s years on earth-in each metal ring. Thus her weary head was constantly pained in ninety-nine distinct places. It is distressing for us even to read the vivid descriptions of Rose’s bodily macerations as left us by her more detailed biographers, and if we are at times tempted to think that she was imprudent in the use of these instruments of penance, let us remember that God was well pleased with these conquests over flesh and blood, undertaken for love of Him and for the souls that He had died to save. The iron girdle was preserved as a relic after the Saint’s death and emitted a heavenly fragrance, and, moreover, God granted that three strokes upon this fearful headgear in honor of the Most Holy Trinity would relieve Rose from the assaults of the Evil One.

This true spouse of the Heavenly Bridegroom, in her desire to watch with Our Lord, kept up an incessant battle against sleep, and before her death she had reduced the hours given to rest to two only. But let us not imagine for a moment that this did not entail an heroic struggle. We saw the bed of pain rather than of repose that she made for her tired body, even as a young girl. That, however, was not sufficient to assist her to victory ; for, besides the natural inclination to sleep increased by the heavy and oppressive climate of the country, Rose had also to battle with the wiles of Satan. With hell-defying courage, this intrepid heroine would extend her arms on a large cross, so as to sustain her weight, deal her sleepy head pitiless blows, or, as a last resort, she would fasten the little hair she had left of her once flowing tresses to a large nail that was driven in the wall, so that the moment she began to drowse the pain would awaken her.

To these exterior sufferings Rose received from on high a still more soul-searching trial. She experienced all the mental agonies of what is known as the “night of the soul.” It would require the pen of a learned mystic to describe the terrible anguish that the soul of the Saint endured during these trials, which extended, at intervals, over the long period of fifteen years. During these hours of abandonment Saint Rose felt all the awful separation from the Eternal Goodness that is experienced by the damned in hell. She felt as though her Redeemer had deserted her forever and as though He actually hated her. Moreover, the enemy of man’s salvation afflicted the Saint in every way possible, suggesting temptations to despair and even inflicting physical blows upon her. But, relying upon her Saviour and confiding in His glorious Mother, the humble maiden succeeded in vanquishing the hosts of perdition.

Our Divine Lord, however, never permits Himself be outdone in generosity. After these afflictions with which He tried Rose’s heart, as gold in the fire, He showered upon her manifold graces and blessings. Frequently the Blessed Virgin visited this handmaid of the Lord and helped her in many ways. Saint Catherine, her own special patroness, would spend long hours with her to instruct and guide her in the rugged ascent up Mount Calvary. Nor are we surprised to hear that her angel-guardian was almost always visible to her and granted her many spiritual favors. But most of all do we love to think of the many times that the Divine Child came to cheer this childlike Saint. The Christ Child often spent long hours in conversation with this lily-hearted Rose, encouraging her and assuring her that she would one day be forever united to Him in heaven.

Indeed, like her model-saint, she, too, was destined to be espoused to the King of Eternal Glory even while in this vale of sorrow. The great day of her mystical betrothal to the God of Heaven and earth was a Palm Sunday a few years before her death. It happened in this wise : Rose, with the other Tertiaries, was in the Church of Santo Domingo assisting at the solemn services. The sacristan distributed the waving palm branches, but somehow missed Rose. When the procession had formed, the saintly maiden took her usual place and modestly accompanied the others, humbling herself before God and accusing herself of having too eagerly desired the palm branch. So when she came before the miraculous statue of the Queen of the Rosary she begged for pardon. Then the figure became animated and smiled upon the humble child. Rose, touched to the very depths of her soul by this kindness, cried out : “Nevermore, O dearest Lady, will I take a palm branch from the hands of man, for thou, O Palm of Cades, wilt give me a neverfading one!” The Blessed Virgin then turned to the Child Jesus and asked a favor ; then Rose experienced a thrill of holy joy, and ecstatic emotion filled her inmost soul, as the Divine Infant spoke these words to His beloved : “Rose of My heart, be thou My spouse !” With a heart over-flowing with love and tender gratitude, and overwhelmed by a realization of the greatness of the favor, and of her own unworthiness, she modestly bowed her head, giving vent in tears of thankfulness to the great joy that came over her, while she promised eternal fidelity to her heavenly Suitor.

Rose had been supernaturally enlightened as to the time of her death ; she knew that she would never live to see her thirty-second year; and so, when in her twenty-eighth year, she was taken down with what seemed so mortal a sickness that her confessor began to say the prayers for the dying and to urge her to final perseverance, she gently told him not to be alarmed, for her death hour had not yet come. Though the servant of God recovered from the illness, her strength was well-nigh spent, and soon after she left her chosen cell and the home of her parents to dwell in the house of her friends, the de Massas. Her confessor bade her mitigate the severity of her penances and gave her mother leave to destroy the bed of pain that Rose had used all through these years. In the home of her friends the Saint chose the smallest attic-room, and there continued her prayers and mortifications, though the latter were somewhat softened in their rigor. Rose now obeyed Maria de Massa as her mother, and by her charming holiness taught the children of the family the happiness of virtue.

Toward the end of July, 1617, Rose, feeling that her earthly career was drawing to a close, paid a last visit to her parents and her little retreat in the garden. Finally her last sufferings set in on the night of July 31st. She had retired as well as ever, but was found seized with an inexplicable illness that caused her body to become rigid; and she appeared like one in the agony of death. Her mother was immediately sent for, and in the morning her confessor and doctor were summoned. Though there were no signs of physical sickness save those effects mentioned, our Saint described her sufferings when requested to do so by her confessor. She seems to have had a share in the awful tortures that the sensitive body of our Saviour experienced while on the Cross; she felt as though the very marrow in her bones was being burned with fire. After a week of this anguish, bodily ailments were added to Rose’s agony. A complication of diseases set in : pneumonia, asthma, gout, rheumatism, and fevers tested the patience of this Job-like maiden. These were the means used by a loving God further to purify the soul of His faithful child. Through it all she ever showed herself the same patient, edifying sufferer, always thinking of others and confident that God would grant her final victory. Three weeks this terrible malady consumed the emaciated body of our heroine, whose pure soul the while was sustained by a joyous serenity that enabled her to bear the excruciating pains.

On the eve of Saint Bartholomew she told her folks that she was to die that night, beg ged for her parents’ last blessing, took an affectionate leave of her friends, exhorted all to a greater love for God, and humbly begged pardon for her faults and the annoyance that she had caused them by her sickness. At 8 o’clock she said that she would die at midnight, and obtained a final absolution from Father Lorenzana, who had to leave for the choral office. As the appointed hour approached, the dying Saint asked her brother to remove the mattress and pillow, that she might die like her Redeemer on the hard wood. Then, having received a blessed candle and fortified with the Sign of the Cross, the First Flower of the New World breathed her last. Those at her side caught the last words of this mystic flower: “Jesus, Jesus, be with me!” In death as in life, her one inextinguishable desire was to be united to the Sacred Heart; and so

“No longer grieving for her Love,

Joy now o’erflows her faithful heart ! Eternal anthems hymned above,

And pure delight her blessed part.”15

The news of the Saint’s death s pread with lightning rapidity, and when day dawned a great throng sought admittance to the house to behold the dead Saint, whose youthful features were restored to the emaciated countenance. Innumerable miracles were granted to those who implored her intercession, and her funeral was rather a triumphal pageant, for no one could feel grief that another saint had been crowned in Heaven. For days the Friars could not bury the sainted remains because of the ever-increasing crowds that came to see the valiant soul’s earthly habitat. Finally they succeeded in entombing the sacred corpse in the cloister of the convent.

Besides the cures and favors granted through the Saint’s intercession, the great change for the bette r that swept all over Latin America clearly manifested Rose’s continued interest in her countrymen. Nor did these spiritual showers of roses cease as the years lengthened into decades; and so, in 1671, Pope Clement IX announced to the whole of Christendom that Rose de Flores was to be honored as a saint in Heaven, and proclaimed her the special Advocate of the Western Hemisphere. And so each year Holy Mother Church commemorates the victories of this lily-maid on the 30th of August, hailing her with this beautiful antiphon : “O sweet-smelling Rose, scattering everywhere the perfume of virtues, help us to be sharers of the light and fragrance which you enjoy !”16

15. From Vesper Hymn of Saint Rose’s Feast.

16. Benedictus Antiphon for Saint Rose’s Feast.

Saint Stanislaus Kostka

RICHARD BRENNAN, S.J

INDEX

Paul Kostka and his friends had far to go. Their journey was a long one even for young men with good horses. Sometimes they talked and sang as they rode but more often they rode silently, like men with a purpose. They had much of Poland to cross then through what we call Czecho-Slovakia and Austria and finally down Italy to Rome, a distance of over a thousand miles. Rome was Paul’s goal but he was not going as a pilgrim but to bring his young brother back to Poland. For a long time now his young brother had been making trouble for him and as he rode along Paul brooded over the years.

YOUNG STANISLAUS

Stanislaus had always been difficult, Paul thought, even when he was a child. It was right to be a good Catholic of course but there was no need for all that praying for a normal boy. Then there was that most embarassing habit of Stanislaus when a guest told a good story. Paul could still remember with distress the first time that one of the guests at Rostkov Castle told a smutty story when Stanislaus was present. No one had any idea that Stanislaus was going to make a scene as he was a quiet youngster. But he did make a scene, and with vengeance. He had first blushed violently, tears welled from his eyes and then to cap it all he had fainted. It was not just once that such a thing happened. It recurred sufficiently often for their father to know the tell-tale signs of Stanislaus distress. Father would then make an effort to change the drift of the conversation and if the storyteller were too obtuse to take the hint their father would say, ‘We had better talk of something else or we shall see our young Stanislaus raise his eyes to heaven and then fall headlong under the table.’

That was always Stanislaus’ trouble, Paul reflected; he was not broadminded like himself. He thought ruefully of his own later efforts to broaden his brothers mind.

As they rode southwards through Poland, Paul was reminded of the first time he had made that journey. He was not going to Rome on that occasion but only to Vienna on his way to college. He had been about fifteen and his father had decided that he needed proper education. There were no suitable schools in Poland so father had made up his mind to send himself and Stanislaus to the new Jesuit College at Vienna. Up to that time they had had a tutor to teach them at home, Doctor Bilinski, though Bilinski was not a doctor in those days.

DOCTOR BILINSKI

Bilinski had accompanied the brothers to Vienna to look after them. Paul smiled as he thought about that journey. Poor Bilinski! He was supposed to be in charge but it did not work out that way. Paul could remember how he himself had gradually taken over the role of authority and it had not been difficult to do so, for though the tutor was a clever man at his books, he was not fit to rule a young nobleman like himself. After a few days on the road it was Paul who had directed operations; it was he who had decided how far they would ride during the day and where they would stay the night.

VIENNA

It was a pity that when they got to Vienna he had not been able to retain his authority as he might have been able to knock a bit of sense into young Stanislaus but the Jesuits who ran the college would have no authority but their own. What a place that college was! It was utterly overcrowded, with priests and boys living on top of each other. And they were expected to study hard, in fact they were forced to study hard. The Jesuits did not seem to realise that here they had a Polish noble and they had ordered him around like any other boy. Now as he followed the road, after the lapse of a few years, he was going to show them who was master.

Stanislaus had actually seemed to enjoy the circumscribed college life of order and discipline, work and prayer, and for some reason that was beyond understanding, Stanislaus was most popular, not just with the Jesuits which would have been understandable, but with the other boys. Yes, he had to admit it, even to himself, Stanislaus was better liked than he was. This period, however, had lasted only eight months. The Jesuits had been made to close the boarding school though they kept the day school open.

As he passed through Vienna now, en route for Rome, Paul remembered all that had happened in detail. When the boarding school had closed down he had not been sure what to do, so he had sought out Bilinski who was still in the city. They decided to remain in Vienna- it would have been ridiculous to give up such a chance of freedom- and to attend the day school. What relief it had been to get away from the boarding school restrictions and to have good digs and to be able to come and go at will! Paul was now in a position to show Stanislaus how a nobleman should live.

THE HOUSE OF KIMBERKER

It was only natural that they should look for the best possible apartments in town. Senator Kimberker had a fine suite of rooms and was willing to let them to an aristocrat of the Kostka family. Bilinski had, of course, fallen in with the idea but, for the first time since their arrival at Vienna, Stanislaus had been difficult. Stanislaus did not wish to live in the house of a man who was anti-Catholic. But what did it matter what religious beliefs the owner of the house had? Paul had no intention whatsoever of giving up his faith but he had to insist on having really fashionable quarters. Perhaps he had made a little mistake about that for Senator Kimberker later refused entrance to a Catholic priest when Stanislaus was very ill. It was not very important anyhow as Stanislaus had recovered. Everyone makes mistakes sometimes and he really had to show his young brother who was in charge.

Senator Kimberker’s house was certainly very differe nt from the over-crowded boarding school. There had been ten of them altogether in the apartment; himself and Stanislaus, four other young Polish nobles, including two Kostka cousins, three servants and the inevitable Bilinski. They were still supposed to attend classes at the Jesuit school but once classes were finished they were their own masters. Stanislaus had been a bit of a nuisance and made it awkward for the rest of them by never missing classes as they did but he, Paul, always dispatched a servant when he was not coming to let the Fathers know that he was indisposed. It had cost little to be polite to his masters.

TRAINING IN NOBILITY

Now that the boarding school was no more, Paul had really set about training Stanislaus in earnest. He did not approve of his young brother getting up for Mass every morning or of his long prayers but as they did not do anyone any great harm he had been prepared to tolerate such practices. In some ways however he had to take a firm line as Stanislaus was really a disgrace to the fair name of Kostka. Stanislaus must be educated. He did not even know how to dance. As elder brother Paul decided that such ignorance must be remedied forthwith, so Stanislaus had taken lessons, He had also pointed out to Stanislaus that he did not dress as became a noble but Stanislaus did nothing about it. Paul had reminded his brother that their father had sent them to Vienna to mix with people of quality and that he was neglecting his duty by not doing so. He had impressed on him that it was possible to be a good Catholic without dressing badly and staying at home all the time. Of course be could really not have gone out with them to parties and theatre dressed as he was so it had been very difficult. He had tried everything to bring the boy to his senses. He had pleaded, threatened and cajoled, but Stanislaus had remained stubborn. He had told Stanislaus that he was bringing shame and disgrace on the good name of the family. Bilinski had said that he sometimes went too far in his reproaches but what did Bilinski know about nobility? He, Paul Kostka, knew his duty and he did it.

AT DEATH’S DOOR

Paul could not forget the fright he had in December 1566 when Stanislaus was gravely ill. They had got doctors and done what they could to help the boy. Stanislaus had seemed to be dying and wanted a priest but Senator Kimberker was very bitter on the subject of priests and would not allow one to enter his house on any pretext. How hard they had worked in their care of Stanislaus! No one had ever been so well looked after. He could remember Bilinski, who was more frightened than the rest, sitting up with the patient day and night. Bilinski had said something about an angel bringing Holy Communion to Stanislaus. He had never got full truth about that, but whatever happened, Stanislaus had got better suddenly. The doctors could not explain the sudden recovery but it was certainly a relief to Paul himself when things could return to normal. Now that Stanislaus was well again Paul had expected him to be grateful for all their kindness and to behave like a gentleman for the future.

But Stanislaus had not behaved according to his brother’s wishes and had become, if anything, more difficult than before. While the servants went about their duties they were often terrified at the sight of Stanislaus kneeling in a trance, and the woman who did the laundry complained of blood on his clothes due to his fantastic habit of scourging himself. One of the servants had also found a shirt that most certainly had not come from his tailor for it was of haircloth.

THE WORLD THAT PASSES

As he thought over the next eight months, Paul was not altogether happy about how he had acted. Shortly after the illness he had asked Stanislaus why he could not behave like everyone else. Stanislaus had answered he was not created for the world that passes but for eternity which lasts forever. What exactly had he meant by that? Did he think he was better than the rest of them with all his prayers and disciplines and vigils? It was quite ridiculous for a younger brother to set himself up as a judge of what was the right thing to do

Finding that neither himself nor his friends could prevail on Stanislaus to change his habits either by ridicule or threats they were driven to resort to physical violence. When they found the boy still praying as they came in from a party at night he got a few kicks. Once or twice things did get out of hand as on the occasion when they knocked him down and kicked him.

ESCAPE

Even now as he rode towards Rome, Paul realised that he had made some miscalculations during that last period but that his greatest mistake was to tell Stanislaus to clear off. He never thought that his brother would take him at his word. Of course the Jesuits must have been behind the flight but it had been humiliating to find himself outwitted by a sixteen year old boy. How he had dreaded the prospect of explaining the matter to their father though in fact he had not been asked to explain very much. Father had been furious it was true but his anger was directed against the Jesuits and not against Paul. Paul had been saved a lot of difficulty by a report which had reached Rostkov Castle before him that Father Peter Canisius had dared to receive Stanislaus into his order. John Kostka was not one to accept such treatment and had immediately started the machinery working that would bring his younger son back to Poland. Then the news had arrived that Stanislaus had been taken to Rome and this complicated matters further. But now it was all fixed and he, Paul, was armed with full authority and all the necessary documents which would force the Jesuits to allow him to take his brother home.

It was a relief to Paul that it had all worked out so well in the end and that he was now riding to Rome to undo the mischief. He was angry that Stanislaus had led him such a dance but rejoiced that he was about to come out on top. It was over a year since Stanislaus had run away.

September was not yet over in 1568 when Paul Kostka rode into Rome. With him rode an escort of friends and retainers. He would impress the Jesuits with his show of might.

BUSINESS IN ROME

Paul did not want to delay his business in Rome for long. It was too late for action on the evening they arrived but on the following morning they mounted their horses and rode to Sant” Andrea, the Jesuit Noviciate. Paul jumped from his horse and strode towards the house. He banged peremptorily on the door. After a moments delay it was opened by the Brother Porter. Paul wasted no time in polite greetings but told the Brother who he was and that he had come to fetch his brother Stanislaus. “Go and get him at once!” he ordered the Brother. The Brother looked surprised but said nothing. He showed Paul Kostka into the reception room and asked him to wait for a moment.

After a brief delay Father Julius Fazio came into the room. Paul repeated his demand to have his brother brought to him at once. “Your brother Stanislaus died four weeks ago.”

Quietly the Father told him how Stanislaus had died; That he had lived and died a saint. All Rome revered him and it was strange that even in the few hours that he had been in Rome that Paul had not heard of it. Stanislaus was not being forgotten. He was spoken of everywhere and many people were praying to him rather than for him. Paul sent a messenger to dismiss the riders who had come with him to Sant” Andrea and asked to be taken to his brother’s grave.

As he knelt at the graveside Paul broke down and cried like a child. There he realised for the first time what he had done to his brother. The sudden change was not a passing one. He understood what he had been and what he had done. Never again was he the bragging bully but lived a life of penance and reparation for the past. The change was so radical that it can scarcely be explained by the shock of the news. From that time on Paul saw his life in a completely new light and never ceased to morn the treatment he had meted out to Stanislaus.

MISSION NOT COMPLETED

Paul left Rome as soon as possible to bring the sad news to his father and mother. They were dismayed at the news but listened avidly to the extraordinary story of their sons heroic sanctity. The father did not long survive Stanislaus and a few days afterhis father’s death Albert, Stanislaus” younger brother, also died.

Paul stayed at home with his mother until she died. He did not marry but devoted himself to charitable works and prayer and penance. When he was fifty-six he asked to be admitted into the Society of Jesus. His request for admission was made with great humility, not for his own merit, he said, but because he was the brother of Stanislaus. His request was heard but before he could start his noviceship he died a holy death on November 13th-now the feast of St. Stanislaus-1607.

In the earlier pages we have been viewing Stanislaus Kostka through the eyes of his elder brother Paul. Paul had judged his brother by his own standards and up to the time when he learned of Stanislaus’ death his standards were both worldly and selfish. It would be a mistake to regard Paul as vicious but he was inflated by an exaggerated idea of his own importance and judged others by himself.

PAUL AND STANISLAUS

It is interesting to consider the similarities and differences of the two brothers. They were similar in their Catholic background and were both brought up in the love of God and their family. The family was both noble and wealthy so the boy never knew want or privation. They were both cheerful and popular yet even in their cheerfulness and popularity there was a tremendous difference.

Paul was always selfish and loved to show off what a noble fellow he was. He was inconsiderate as selfish people always are. He was determined that all should recognise his importance.

Stanislaus was much quieter and less talkative. Very early in life he seems to have realised that nobility does not consist in showing off but in living ones life according to God’s plan. After all, God had created him for something: he must find out just what that something was and, knowing it, he must have the strength to carry it out. To know what he should do and to have the courage to do it required more than human strength so he sought guidance and help from God. He could never have been satisfied with drifting through life. He was ambitious because he knew that God makes every man for greatness. The idea of being a priest does not seem to have occurred to him until his serious illness in Vienna.

Paul undoubtedly regarded Stanislaus’ violent reaction to off-colour stories as prudish and childish though in reality it showed rather his strength. Stanislaus was mature enough to realise how dangerous such stories and conversations can be. He knew that poisonous stories are to the soul what poison is to the body. No one is likely to suggest that one who breathes in poison gas should be regarded as more adult that one who tries to prevent the gas from entering his system. One who risks his life to save others is a hero but one who takes risks without reason is a fool.

As Stanislaus Kostka was a very normal boy, nothing much has been reported about his early years except some references to his habits of prayer, his consideration for others and his popularity.

He was not yet fourteen when he was sent to Vienna to study. The first eight months there seem to have been among the happiest of his life. He enjoyed the boarding school life with its regularity and opportunities for prayer and study. He enjoyed the close friendship of the Fathers and his companions.

Many of these contemporaries gave evidence of Stanislaus” holiness after his death. He was not a great talker, his expression was calm and pleasant. He was a very modest boy. On weekdays he used to attend three Masses, the first and second before and after the first lecture and the third at the end of the morning classes. On Sunday he spent most of his time in church and heard as many Masses as he could.

MY DEAR MOTHER

Stanislaus had an extraordinary love and devotion to the mother of God. At a later stage of his life he was asked by Father de Sa, “Do you really love Our Lady?” “What a question, Father! Mary is my dear Mother.” Though the Sodality of Our Lady had not yet been canonically established there was a sodality of Our Lady in the college at Vienna with St. Barbara as its secondary patron. Laurence Pacifici, who was the personal servant of Paul and Stanislaus Kostka, while also attending the Jesuit college with them, wrote of his young master later, when he himself was a Canon of San Mose in Venice: “Stanislaus was extraordinarily given to prayer, and though he went to the school of the reverend Jesuit Fathers, and was at that time in the class of Rhetoric, he never cared for worldly eloquence. Hence his speeches, such as students were accustomed to deliver, were generally about Our Lady, to whom he had a great devotion in the Sodality of the Blessed Virgin and St. Barbara, which is held there in great reverence and of which he and many other students were members.”

During these eight months, brother Paul had little influence on Stanislaus. An elder brother has no authority in a hoarding school where everything works according to a set rule and order. Stanislaus took part in all the normal school activities. He took his part in the recreations and games, did his work very well, prayed at any time he had free and endeared himself to all. Though the other boys knew that he differed from themselves in his long hours of prayer and his penances, they were not in any way antagonised because he did not try to impose his way of life on them and he was always most considerate and obliging.

When Maximilian II repossessed the building which the Jesuits used as the Vienna boarding school Stanislaus was naturally distressed. He was much more distressed when Paul insisted on renting rooms belonging to the anti-Catholic Kimberker. But there was no redress for him and there he must stay for over two years while he and Paul continued as day pupils in the college. In the subsequent period Paul emerges as a vain and selfish bully. The servant-student, Laurence Pacifici, again gives us some information. “Paul Kostka, the elder brother, led rather too free a life, and he was somewhat wild, and given to as great vanity in his style of dress and in his conversation ashis tutor would allow.”

DAY BOYS

It is not possible to give the exact order of events while the boys lived at Kimberker’s house. The period, however, divides itself up into the twentyone months which preceded Stanislaus” illness and the eight months which followed it.

Paul, as we already know, rented the rooms and got four other young Polish nobles to join himself, Stanislaus and Bilinski. He also engaged three men-servants, including Pacifici, who later provided so much information as to what went on in the house. Pacifici has this muchto say about himself at the period in question: “The two brothers attended the school of the reverend Jesuit Fathers, and I, with them: he (Stanislaus) went to the school and studied Rhetoric along with me.”

Paul was not a little irregular in his attendance at school. He had behaved reasonably while he was in the boarding school, but now he had not a bell to wake him in the morning and he was often tired after his somewhat hectic evenings of amusement. Stanislaus, who apart from being a saint, had much more sense than his brother, got up, not only early enough for classes but in time for the early Mass and he never missed weekly Confession and Holy Communion and the daily Rosary and visits to the Blessed Sacrament.

Why Paul could not leave Stanislaus alone is not so easy to understand. Was it in order to justify himself that he decided to teach Stanislaus to live as he did? He could not really take exception to him going to Mass or saying his prayers. But probably to justify his own conduct be asserted that Stanislaus was not living as a young nobleman should and that he was not meeting the right people or learning the essential art of noble living.

FINE FEATHERS

Paul Kostka exemplifies a type of young man whom one could meet in any age, in the twentieth century as in the sixteenth. He had lived under authority while at home but when he got some liberty in Vienna he was determined to use it to show off. At seventeen he had all the answers. He knew what should be done so he dressed up to show that he was different. Needless to say he had his followers. His roommates were willing to follow the leader. The refusal of Stanislaus to follow his example of stupidity was something he could not stomach. Willy-nilly he would bring Stanislaus to heel.

Stanislaus was the last person on earth to cause trouble and as long as Paul’s wishes and commands did not interfere with is work or prayer he was prepared to fall in with these wishes. When Paul insisted that he learn how to dance, Stanislaus agreed to take lessons even though he did not like dancing.

Though Paul had been going much too far in seeking amusement there was no one to restrain him. When matters got out of hand Biliinski did attempt to remonstrate with him, but the tutor had long since lost any little authority he may have had at the beginning and Paul ignored him. It may well be that Paul’s pleasure-seeking did not involve anything very evil but there is no doubt that he was completely out of control and that instead of being in a position to give orders he needed a strong hand to keep him in order. While realising that Paul was living dangerously Stanislaus knew that he could do nothing about it so he kept his peace. It was sad that Paul could not tolerate sanctity so close to him. All during the period while they lived at Kimberker’s house he had sneered at his brother’s way of life and encouraged his companions to do the same, but it was only during the last eight months at Vienna that he seems to have resorted to physical violence.

Paul found fault with Stanislaus because the latter would not dress up as he did. No one at the college, neither masters nor boys noticed anything unusual about Stanislaus” dress but then Paul wanted to be unusual. Paul also resented the fact that his brother would not wear gloves and that he would not have a servant to carry his books to the college each morning. Stanislaus regarded it as ridiculous to ask someone to carry the books which he could carry just as easily himself.

One of Paul’s greatest annoyances was the presence of his brother when they were entertaining guests at the apartment. Stanislaus could scarcely excuse himself on the plea of ill-health as he was known to be a healthy and robust young man. He was usually present then and Paul was on tenter-hooks in case his brother might stage one of his fainting bouts at an off-colour story. Stanislaus was truly infuriating in Paul’s eyes and because he did not know how to deal with the situation which arose he upbraided his brother for bringing shame on the family.

BROAD-MINDED

Paul, like his modern counterpart, tried to convince himself that it was manly and broadminded to drink and tell stories of a doubtful nature. Broadmindedness for him consisted in living uselessly and selfishly and putting God’s will in second place. It is true that a boy as closely united to God as Stanislaus can withstand the propaganda of selfishness but a lesser man would have fallen by the wayside. In the face of the persecution that he had to endure Stanislaus emerges as a man of the greatest courage, both physical and moral.

Every boy needs a certain amount of relaxation if he is to remain in good health. When classes are over he can relax at home or play games. While the boarding school was open Stanislaus had his normal relaxation but once that was gone and he was lodged at Kimberker’s house what was there for him after school? He enjoyed his school work but when it was finished and he returned to the apartment he had no one who was a friend. As a result there was nothing for Stanislaus except to retire to solitude and live in loneliness. As he had to remain in Vienna, even during the holidays, this was particularly trying. He was a healthy boy but no health could stand up to a life in which the place of a loving family was taken by pretty persecutors.

For a year and nine months Stanislaus health held out.

In December 1566 his health was poor. He could scarcely eat and he had to drag himself out in the morning. Paul and his companions thought that Stanislaus was fasting and that he was being difficult. They were not sufficiently interested to realise that he was ill.

COLLAPSE

On December 18th they got a surprise. For the first time since they had come to the house they found that Stanislaus was still in bed when they woke up. One look at him convinced them that he was very ill. His face was pale and haggard. He was feverish and in obvious pain. They were all very frightened, especially Paul, who realised that if anything happened to his brother he would have to explain it at home. It was quite obvious even to them that the boy was not just indisposed but dangerously ill. They sent to the college to inform the Jesuits. Paul himself was responsible for the fact that the Fathers could do nothing for Stanislaus except to pray for him. There was not the slightest chance that Kimberker would allow a priest into the house, let alone a Jesuit.

They got doctors for Stanislaus who did not seem to achieve much. They themselves nursed him and remained at his bedside day and night. Bilinski was outstanding in his devoted service for the sick boy. All realised how serious was Stanislaus” illness and would have done anything to help him except to procure for him the one boon he asked for repeatedly-Holy Viaticum. Whenever he asked they did not answer but told him that he would be all right and he was not going to die. They were in fact very much afraid that he was going to die but saw no hope of getting a priest into the house.

Seeing that a priest was not coming to him Stanislaus had recourse to prayer. He sought the intercession of St. Barbara who was not only the patroness of his Sodality, but also the special patron of those who desire to die fortified by the Last Sacraments.

THE FIRST MIRACLE

God does not leave his most devoted friends in grave distress of soul and one night when Bilinski was dozing at Stanislaus” bedside St. Barbara appeared and with her, two angels, one of them holding in his hands the Blessed Sacrament. Stanislaus managed to get out of bed and to kneel down telling Bilinski to kneel too. Three times Stanislaus repeated the words, “Lord, I am not worthy” and then opened his mouth to receive the Eucharist. He remained kneeling until Bilinski made him get back into bed. Shortly afterwards Stanislaus was favoured with another divine visitation.

This time it was Our Lady carrying the Divine Infant. Our Lady put the Infant Jesus into Stanislaus” arms and told him he was to enter the Society that bears her Son’s name.

It might be easy to question these divine apparitions, in spite of the evidence, but for the fact of Stanislaus” sudden cure. When Bilinski looked at the boy in the morning Stanislaus was awake and normal colour had returned to his cheeks. He asked for his clothes so that he could get up and go to the church to thank God for his cure but Bilinski would not let him up until he had permission from the doctors. These could not understand how the boy who had been at death’s door the previous day was now fully recovered. The recovery was complete for there was no convalescence and Stanislaus was back to full normal health.

PERSECUTION

Paul and the others had been most devoted during Stanislaus” illness but now that the crisis was over so was their kindness. Paul not only recontinued his jibes and sneers but he initiated a real persecution. It was not only hard words that Stanislaus had to endure but constant violence and blows.

It is not possible to determine what started this persecution but once started it became increasingly violent. Likely enough Paul imagined that after the pains he had taken over his brother during his illness Stanislaus would try to fit in with his plans afterwards. When he found that if anything Stanislaus was more given to prayer and penance than before his anger was unlimited. As for Stanislaus, now that he had been told by Our Lady that he was to become a Jesuit, he considered himself entirely devoted to God. The tale of persecution is not an edifying one but we know that Stanislaus” persecutors were afterwards heartily ashamed of their behaviour. We can mention some of the incidents which were afterwards admitted by those responsible.

Rozrazewski, one of Paul’s co -lodgers and friends, related that one night when he was unable to sleep he saw Stanislaus get out of bed and prostrate himself on his face in prayer. “Thereupon, I got up, and went quietly up to him; and pretending that I hadnot seen him, I kicked him savagely, and jumped upon him with all my weight.” This testimony of Rozrazewski was given under oath.

One of the Kostka cousins, whose name was also Stanislaus, reproached himself: “Oh, how often have I stamped upon that blessed youth when we were students abroad and he was prostrate on the ground, whilst the others were asleep.”

THE ELDER BROTHER

The treatment Stanislaus received from his own brother was the most violent. Paul repeatedly knocked his brother down, mercilessly kicked him and stamped on him so that Bilinski more than once had to drag him away and insist on him letting Stanislaus alone.

It was after a day of particularly brutal treatment that Stanislaus had warned Paul: ‘Your rough treatment will end in my going away never to return, and you will have to explain my leaving to our father and mother.’ Paul was so infuriated that he had told him to clear off, never dreaming that Stanislaus would take him at his word. The next morning Stanislaus was gone on his first long walk.

Before going into any details about that journey we must consider the question of Stanislaus” religious vocation. There is no evidence that he had contemplated becoming a Jesuit before his illness. He was seeking the closest union with God and leaving it to Him to lead him on the right road. His attitude was “Here I am Lord!” He could scarcely have considered the religious life as a genuine possibility because his father, though a good Christian in other respects, would not hear of giving his son to God’s special service.

Stanislaus knew that he would need his father’s consent before the Jesuits of Vienna would admit him as a novice. All that was clear to him, but as Our Lady had told him to join the Society which took its name from her Son he must obey. Perhaps Our Lady would show him later how to obey her command.

After his illness he had applied to the Jesuits for admission and while his confessor had encouraged him he also warned him that his father.s permission would be necessary. Though Father Nicholas Doni had been Stanislaus, confessor for a long time and knew his sanctity, he was surprised, not at the fact that Stanislaus wished to be a Jesuit priest, but that his request for admission was made without any preliminary discussion. Stanislaus had to tell him of the apparition and command of Our Lady. Father Doni refused to give a definite opinion as to Stanislaus” suitability but told him to pray and come back in a week. When Stanislaus returned and they had discussed the matter further Father Doni had to admit that the young man was truly a suitable candidate and told him to go and see the Father Provincial-Father Laurence Maggi.

Father Maggi was quite satisfied with Stanislaus and having ascertained from him that his confessor approved, told him that he could be accepted, on condition, of course, that his parents approved.

HOPELESS CAUSE

The approval of his parents was something that Stanislaus knew he had not the slightest hope of receiving. . When Cardinal Commendone came to Vienna shortly afterwards Stanislaus decided to ask him to intercede for him. Cardinal Commendone was at the time Papal Legate to the Imperial Court. He was a friend of the Jesuits and had met the Kostka family while in Poland. The Cardinal asked Father Maggi to receive Stanislaus but when the Father Provincial reminded him of the danger of receiving a noble without his parents’ consent the Cardinal agreed it would be better not to.

Stanislaus continued to pray and especially to ask Our Lady’s help after this setback. After all, it was Our Lady who had given him instructions to become a Jesuit. Perhaps as a result of his prayers, Stanislaus was inspired to consult the well-known preacher and spiritual-director, Father Francis Antonio. Father Antonio agreed that nothing much could be done in Vienna and suggested that Stanislaus should apply to the Provincial of upper Germany, Father Peter Canisius. The influence of the Kostka family was scarcely great enough to worry anyone at Augsburg.

Father Antonio has been much criticised for the advice he gave to Stanislaus, especially by the saint’s biographer Father Sacchini. Whether Father Antonio waswise or not we don’t have to decide but we do know that the advice literally helped Stanislaus on the road to sanctity.

HONOUR THY FATHER AND THY MOTHER

How could it be right for Stanislaus to go against his parents” wishes?

This question of obedience is far too important to pass over without some explanation. Stanislaus knew that his parents did not want him to be a Jesuit. He was also sure that God did want him to be a Jesuit. Once he was clear that

God wanted him to take this step the difficulty with regard to obeying his parents disappears, for all who believe in God know that His authority is above that of parents and is unlimited while the authority of parents has definite limitations.

It goes without saying that children have no obligation to obey their parents if they are ordered to do what is wrong or sinful. It may not be so well known, though all Catholic moralists teach it, that parents have not the right to determine the careers of their children, still less to oppose them if they wish to follow a call of God to perfection. The natural law itself is against parents bringing any undue influence on their children in the choice of a state of life.

Stanislaus was fully convinced that God called him but he did not act merely on his own conviction. He consulted his own confessor who agreed that his religious vocation was genuine. He consulted others who were skilled in recognising a genuine call from God. The only difficulty anyone could detect was that arising from parental opposition. The Kostka family was sufficiently powerful to do serious damage to God’s work if its wrath against the Jesuits was aroused. How could this be avoided? The only solution seemed to be that Stanislaus should go to a place that was well away from the Kostka sphere of influence.

That is why Father Antonio advised Stanislaus to go to Augsburg and agreed to give him a letter of introduction to Father Canisius.

Stanislaus had the letter in his possession when Paul told him to go. He decided to go on foot. If he went on horseback it would be easy to trace his movements and he would be brought back before he got to his destination. How far away was Augsburg? Stanislaus was faced with a three-hundred mile walk.

FATHER ANTONIO

Father Antonio had realised when speaking to Stanislaus that even when he did get to Augsburg that Father Canisius might not be willing to receive him so he also gave him a letter to the Father General, Francis Borgia, who lived in Rome. Stanislaus would carry with him letters to two men who are now canonised. It must be unique in the annals of the saints to find a saint with letters of introduction to two other saints.

Fortified with Father Antonio’s blessing and letters Stanis laus set about making his preparations for departure. He would not need much; some clothes of the type worn by poorer people, for in spite of Paul’s complaints, Stanislaus usual clothes would have stamped him as a wealthy young man on any road. He would need also a strong pair of boots for the long road ahead and a pilgrim’s staff. One of the servants of the household who had become very devoted to Stanislaus got the clothes for him as it would have been courting the danger of immediate discovery for him to buy them himself.

The preparations were made and Stanislaus waited for a suitable occasion to leave Vienna. He had not long to wait for the signal. On August 16th, 1567 Paul attacked him in anger. Paul was amazed when his brother threatened to leave if he did not allow him to live in peace. When Paul told him to go away, Stanislaus knew that the hour had come and next day he was on the road to Augsburg.

FLIGHT

It was early on Sunday 17th, when Stanislaus quietly left the house carrying the bundle of clothes that he would wear on the road. To delay the inevitable pursuit he had told Laurence Pacifici to let his brother know that he would not be in to dinner. He then went to the Jesuit Church to hear an early Mass and to receive Holy Communion. Spiritually fortified after Mass he left the city carrying the bundle with his unobtrusive clothes and some food for the journey.

Once he got into the open country Stanislaus changed and gave away the clothes he had been wearing to a surprised poor wayfarer he met on the road. He was now a pilgrim travelling light as a poor pilgrim should. The way before him was long and he wanted to get as far as he could from Vienna before he was missed and the pursuit would start. He walked all day and when night came could sleep the sleep of the just after a long hot day.

Early next morning he was on his way again. In Vienna Paul Kostka was also up early. He had at last realised that Stanislaus had really gone. At six o‘clock he was at the Jesuit college to ask the Fathers what they had done with his brother. Paul was not polite in his manner of asking. He called the Fathers kidnappers and deceivers of the young. When they denied knowing where Stanislaus had gone, he called them liars. In the meantime Bilinski had found a letter from Stanislaus in a Greek lexikon. He ran to the college to tell Paul. The truth was out. Stanislaus had run away and was apparently on foot. It should not be hard to catch up with him since he was on foot and Paul had a shrewd idea of the direction that his brother had taken. Bilinski recounted that, though they followed with all possible speed, they could not overtake him. In this statement Bilinski was not quite accurate as they did in fact overtake Stanislaus but they did not recognise him. This fact we have on the testimony of Stanislaus himself in a letter he wrote shortly afterwards. “Close to Vienna two of my servants overtook me. As soon as I recognised them I hid myself in a wood hard by and thus escaped their pursuit. After climbing a number of hills and passing through many a wood, when I was refreshing myself with some bread by the side of a clear stream, I heard the tramp of a horse. I got up and looked at the rider. It was Paul. His steed was covered with foam and his face was hotter than the sun. You can fancy how frightened I was.”

“All chance of flight was gone because of the rate at which he was riding so I stood still. Plucking up courage I went to the horseman and just like a pilgrim begged respectfully for an alms. He asked about his brother, described his dress and height to me and said he was very much like myself in appearance. I replied that in the early morning he had gone along this road. Without waiting a moment he put spur to his horse, threw me some money and went off at a gallop.

As soon as I had thanked the holy Virgin, my Mother Mary, I betook myself to a cave nearby to avoid being pursued. After staying there a short time I resumed my journey.”

PROTECTED

Though he had failed to bring back his brother, Paul did not give up the attempt to find him. He sent messengers to every town and village near Vienna with a minute description of Stanislaus and instructions that he was to be informed if the boy was seen. How then did it happen that Stanislaus was not apprehended and brought back? Was he miraculously shielded by God? One cannot be sure that there was any miracle though God was undoubtedly looking after his child. There is at least a partial explanation from natural causes for Stanislaus avoiding recognition. Paul had stressed, in his description, the clothes that his brother had been wearing, not realising that Stanislaus had changed them immediately after leaving Vienna. Paul obviously under-rated his brother’s intelligence.

Stanislaus never told the details of the journey to Augsburg perhaps because it was uneventful. We know however of his meeting with an unnamed Jesuit priest who was travelling to Dillingen. This Father gave Stanislaus a lift for part of his journey-a very short part-and offered to bring him all the way but Stanislaus insisted that he was a pilgrim and as a pilgrim he would travel. He walked over twenty miles a day on that pilgrimage. He was not yet seventeen years old.

When he got to Augsburg Stanislaus went directly to look for the Jesuit Father Provincial. The Brother who answered the door had to tell him that Father Canisius was away at Dillingen which was twenty-five miles from Augsburg. It was early morning and Stanislaus had not eaten but, in company of one of the Fathers from Augsburg, he set out on the road again. He wished to receive Holy Communion that morning and seeing a church on the roadside went in to hear Mass. The church was deserted and after a few minutes it dawned on him that this church had been taken over by the Lutherans. He could not receive Holy Communion. But the Lord is never outdone in generosity and again Stanislaus was the recipient of a divine favour, for there in a church that had ceased to be Catholic, an angel was sent to give him divine Food for the last lap of the journey.

ST. PETER CANISIUS

It was late in the day when they got to Dillingen. Stanislaus gave the letter to Father Canisius but the first meeting of these two saints was a brief one. The Provincial told Stanislaus to have a good meal and a long sleep and that they could discuss matters after that.

The next day Stanislaus had a long talk with the Father Provincial. Father Antonio’s letter had told him of Stanislaus” goodness and of his desire to become a Jesuit but Father Canisius had to see for himself if he should admit the boy. He agreed willingly to admit Stanislaus on probation. He knew what Stanislaus had suffered for his ideal but wished to make sure of his obedience and humility. He sent him to work in the kitchen. Stanislaus was never more content. He wrote afterwards “I found heaven in the midst of pots and pans.” He gave universal satisfaction during this period and Peter Canisius had no further doubts about the genuineness of the vocation of Stanislaus Kostka.

After further discussions with Stanislaus he decided to send him to Rome in order to be as far away as possible from the danger of his father’s wrath. Two young Jesuits had to make the eight-hundred mile journey to Rome at the time so Stanislaus would go with them. In the letter which St. Peter Canisius wrote to Father General, St. Francis Borgia, he spoke of St. Stanislaus as a noble, virtuous and studious youth. He explained why he was sending him to Rome and said finally “I look for great things from him.”

The exact date of Stanislaus” birth is not known but on the day that he set out on his second long trek, 25th Sep—tember, 1567, he was within about a week of his seventeenth birthday. This journey started from Munich so Stanislaus must have gone there some few days earlier. The journeys of Stanislaus are impressive. From his leaving Vienna to his arrival at Rome he walked about twelve hundred miles. He must have been an unusually healthy young man as St. Peter Canisius, who was always most considerate and solicitous about the health of everyone, except himself, reminded Father Francis Borgia that the two who were to accompany Stanislaus might not be too well but he made no such reference concerning the youngest member of the trio.

THE LONG WALK

Stanislaus felt much happier setting out on this journey than he had on leaving Vienna. For one thing, he was no longer a fugitive in constant fear of capture and secondly he had with him two companions. Stanislaus had not yet started his novitiate so he was dressed as a pilgrim with a sleeveless cloak reaching to his knees and a cape covering his shoulders. A wide brimmed hat completed his uniform.

The journey to Rome was not only a long one but it was also dangerous. The peril of travel in those days was expressed in the saying that the would-be traveller had better do two things: make his peace with God and make his will.

Details of the journey have not come down to us but we have a very fair idea of the route they travelled. The road at first led them due south across the comparatively level tablelands of southern Bavaria from Munich to the northern frontiers of Tyrol. So far the going was easy and swift. After this stage their rate of advance slowed down considerably, Tyrol is a country of ups and downs, but more frequently up, as the land moves towards the foothills of the Tyrolian Alps. It was late in the year and the cold winds added to the fatigue of the journey. It was a long and exhausting climb as the air became colder and more rarified while the road coiled upwards towards the distant white peaks with their everlasting snow. In the Brenner Pass it was bitterly cold and wintry.

Well nigh as exhausting was the long descent from the top of Italy’s northern mountain wall; first through rough, craggy, barren stretches of land where torrents twisted their way through narrow gorges; next across sodden pine woods of dripping trees; at last into meadows bathed in golden sunlight opening into the green and beautiful valleys which lead into the plains of northern Italy. South they went, always southwards, past Trent and on to Bologna.

Stanislaus had already come a long way: from Dillingen to Munich, from Munich to Innsbruck, across the Brenner Pass to Bolzano, Salerno, Trent, Verona, Mantua and Bologna. Bologna was half-way to Rome.

From Bologna the road veered sharply in a south-eastern direction to where Rimini stood, its walls washed by the Adriatic Sea. Stanislaus, who had never seen the sea before now, viewed it for days on end as they continued southwards skirting the sea until they reached Loreto. There they prayed at Mary’s famous shrine and with renewed courage started on the last lap of the journey.

From Loreto the road swung west across the width of leg-shaped central Italy, ran across the bewildering mass of hills that form the Apennine Range, and across the lesser Savine Hills, whence it descended into the great Roman Plain. From Bologna to Forli they had gone, from Forli to Rimini, then Fano, Ancona, Loreto and finally Rome. Rome at last after a weary mouth of travelling, from September 25th to October 25th 1567 on which day Stanislaus and his companions entered the Eternal City. Truly now, was Stanislaus Kostka an experienced traveller.

In the meantime, once Paul was convinced that Stanislaus had got away, he set out on horseback with some companions and servants for Poland. It was not a cheerful journey for Paul as the words of his brother, spoken the day before his flight, kept ringing in his ears: “This will end in my going away and not coming back and you will have to explain to Mother and Father.” How was Paul going to explain his brother’s flight from Vienna without committing himself?

JOHN KOSTKA

Although the feared explanation was never to be given owing to John Kostka’s willingness to believe the worst about the Jesuits, the case was by no means closed. Stanislaus” father really loved him and though his love was a selfish one he was quite determined not to be separated from him for any longer than he must. He set in motion the machinery which would restore his son to him. He wrote a furious letter to Cardinal Hosius in which he not only complained but threatened. The Jesuits had, he affirmed, ridden roughshod over his paternal rights and if they did not return his son to him he would have their house at Poltava closed at once and would see to it that no other Jesuits were allowed to set foot in Poland.

In the interim Stanislaus and his companion had arrived in Rome after an incredibly fast walk. They had done over eight-hundred miles in thirty days, an average of over twenty-six miles a day. That speed would be fast for any human being. It was really astonishing for a boy of seventeen and there is no doubting its having happened.

It may seem strange in writing of a saint to say so little of his interior life but in a pamphlet of this nature one can only give indications of his spirituality. Even without stressing the prayers and mortifications and the extraordinary union with God and love of his Mother Mary, we can see clearly one whose strength was from God and who proved his love by his acts. His great spirit was quite undaunted by obstacles.

He was God’s great walker and no distance was too great for him as he walked with God.

ST. FRANCIS BORGIA

After a few days” rest St. Francis Borgia allowed Stanislaus to begin his novitiate. His arrival did not cause a stir for there were many other novices and he had not even the distinction of being the only Pole nor the only nobleman in the Noviceship.

Shortly after he had become a novice Stanislaus received a letter from his father. It was not a kind letter. The father told his son that he had disgraced the name of Kostka by travelling through Germany and Italy dressed as a beggar.

He said that he would have him brought back to Poland from Rome and that when he was home he would have no opportunities of seeing anyone as he would be chained up in prison. He ordered his son to come quickly before he was taken home by force.

This letter hurt Stanislaus but it did not make him change his mind. Neither, however, did it produce in him any bitterness against his father.

WRITING HOME

“Dearest Father”, he wrote in reply, “why should my entrance into the Society of Jesus make you grieve as you do? On the contrary, you should rejoice thereat and render unceasing thanks to God. Parents here below are ever so happy when they see their children enter the service and household of great men though the latter may die and may at any time disappear. All the more should you rejoice because I have given myself entirely to God who will never abandon me in this life and Who will hereafter richly repay every service rendered to Him, be it ever so small.

Do not cherish the hope that you will ever make me change my mind! Already I have bound myself to God by vowing Him chastity, poverty and obedience. Rather shall I endure suffering and torments and death itself, than give up the state of life which I have chosen.

You cannot give a better proof of your love of me than by praying to God to bless my holy resolve and to bestow on me His grace that I may persevere to the last of my days so that the end may be in keeping with the beginning. By doing so you will acquire great merit before God, Our Lord; and I shall likewise be everlastingly grateful to you.”

It is an extraordinary tribute to Stanislaus’ loyalty that while he refused to abandon his position, he retained his respect for his father. When a Polish Jesuit told him of the letter which his father had written to Cardinal Hosius, Stanislaus, after listening, said half-tearfully, halfsmilingly, “My father would certainly think and act differently if he could but know how my heart overflows with gladness because of the great grace God has conferred on me in leading my steps to the Society of Jesus. They were difficult steps to tread.”

From his earliest childhood Stanislaus had shown great holiness. There was nothing showy about his goodness but he had an unfailing devotion to God’s will and an exceptional love for Our Lady. His holiness was tried in the fire during his persecution at Vienna but he refused to lessen his devotion to God for any cause. During his illness Our Lady had made clear what his vocation was and once he knew this there was no power on earth which could stop him from carrying it out. He would walk the path to God till he could do what Our Lady had told him to do. There are wonders and miracles in the life of Stanislaus but it was not these which made him a saint. God showed the way and gave the strength but it was he himself who must walk the long road to Rome.

JESUIT NOVICE

Once he was admitted into the novitiate the hardest part of his struggle was over. He was now with others who were trying like himself to do the will of God in all things and the will of God was made clear in the minute and detailed order of time and the directions of the Master of Novices. A saint is not really conspicuous in a novitiate where there is little opportunity or encouragement for heroics though there is real heroism in the perfect performance of all the duties of the day; in prayer, in work, in recreation. There is no doubt of the heroism of Stanislaus in this period of his life. It was not that he did many things which were conspicuous but that all that he did was done with that thoroughness and devotion which are so difficult to keep up continuously.

Those who lived with him in the novitiate had no doubts about his sanctity. His love of God and of Our Lady had that utter sincerity that cannot be hidden.

After his death St. Francis Borgia ordered Father Fazio, Stanislaus” Master of Novices, to write a brief account of his life, which could be sent to all the houses of the Society of Jesus for the edification of its members. This had never been done before for one who died as a novice. The saint in Francis Borgia could recognise true sanctity. To fill in some of the details of Stanislaus” life I shall quote freely from Father Fazio’s account, from the time of his arrival at Rome.

“He was welcomed in the city of Rome by our Father-General and sent by him to the Novitiate of Sant” Andrea and no words can describe his many virtues and exemplary life which was for all a pattern and a mirror of religious perfection while he was there.

He was most humble and never spoke of his noble parentage. His modesty was admirable and his obedience knew no wavering. He carried out every order as though it came from God Himself. He reverenced God in his Superior and obeyed his Superior as though he were obeying God, with readiness and alacrity.

He was always kind in his dealings with others but strict and hard on himself. It was necessary to restrain his mortifications by obedience lest he should imperil his health. Superiors looked on him as the perfect religious as described in the Constitutions by Father Ignatius.

He prayed always and lived constantly in the presence of God. He was entirely absorbed both in God and in the task assigned to him, combining prayer and work, work and prayer.

His favourite topic of conversation was two-fold; he loved to speak of the Blessed Virgin Mary constantly referring to her as “My Mother” and always behaved like a most devoted son, honouring her as much as he could. He also loved to speak of his call to the Society, a grace which he held in such a high esteem that words failed him to express his feelings. He publicly declared that this was the greatest grace he had received, a compendium of all the other heavenly gifts because it had conferred upon him all that was good and divinely shielded him from all that was evil. It had changed for him the earth into a paradise and in heaven alone was there greater happiness than in the Society.

Towards the beginning of the month of August of this year, after listening to an exhortation given in our novitiate by our Father Peter Canisius, he began to be consumed with a great desire to suffer martyrdom and he no longer cared to live. Meditating on the death of St. Laurence on that saint’s feast day (10th August) he had a bad fainting fit and became feverish. Though the fever abated, his desire to die was as strong as ever. A short time before, with great outpourings of love, he had written a letter to the most holy Virgin and had asked her to come and fetch him so that he might celebrate the coming feast of her Assumption in heaven.

He received Holy Communion that morning. Towards evening fever set in from which he told us he would not recover, since on the eve of the feast of the Assumption be would die-as actually came to pass. He prepared himself for death in the most saintly manner by receiving the Last Sacraments and was in constant converse with God and Our Lady and the saints.

No sooner had his soul left his body than throughout the whole city the news spread that a saint had died and people came crowding to venerate his last remains as those of a saint and to get for themselves some relic of him if they could do so. He was buried in a wooden coffin in our novitiate of Sant” Andrea. He was the first to be buried there so that his remains might hallow that place and prepare the way for others to follow him heavenwards.

This account, which I have shortened considerably is perfectly sincere and genuine. The account of Stanislaus” long walks may make us like him more and appreciate his courage and determination but the manifestations of sanctity and the signs and miracles were God’s sign of acceptance and approval of heroic courage in the early battles.

OLD FRIENDS

The cause of Stanislaus” death is somewhat mysterious. He was a healthy young man and physically capable of great endurance as we know. His health was still good throughout most of the ten months he spent in the noviciate. He had nothing wrong with him at the time that his old friend, St. Peter Canisius, came to Rome and gave the exhortation on 31st July. Father Canisius spoke on that day of the need for being always prepared as one does not know when God will call. After the exhortation, when Stanislaus was speaking with the other novices, he said that while the Father’s words were a salutary warning to all, that for himself they were God’s own voice, as he was going to die that month. Though Stanislaus” words were remembered they were not taken seriously.

DEATH OF A NOVICE

Stanislaus became ill on the 10th August but not very seriously so. He affirmed that he would not recover but the Infirmarian told him that it would be a miracle if he died of such a mild indisposition. Yet Stanislaus affirmed that Our Lady would take him to heaven for the feast of her Assumption. He became progressively worse with the fever but not until the day before he died did anyone realise that he was nearing the end. He died as he had said, shortly before midnight on the 14th August, with the smile of one who was going home.

There is much we can learn from all the saints. There are many things we can learn from the life of Stanislaus -but one thing above all-the meaning of God’s call. God calls at every moment of life. He calls to different ways of life. Once the call is clear then nothing must prevent it from being followed. Every resource must be utilised in the carrying out of the will of God.

In his childhood Stanislaus was brought up to know and love God and His Mother. He saw the importance of prayer and learned to pray. He was sent to Vienna to study and he studied. He saw that a certain type of behaviour was for him incompatible with a real love of God. He saw in the clarity of God’s grace that what interfered with the true service of God must be got rid of. Paul was making the service of God impossible for him so he left Paul. His parents were in opposition to the carrying out of what was clearly God’s will-God’s will must be done before all.

The mystery and the explanation of St. Stanislaus” life is found in the words of our Saviour to His own mother: “Did you not know that I must be about My Father’s business?”

Nihil Obstat:

JEREMIAS HAYES, S.J., Censor Theol. Dep.

Imprimi Potest:

@ JOANNES CAROLUS, Archiep. Dublinen.,

Hiberniae Primas.

Dublini: 4 Januarii, 1965.

********

Saint Teresa of Avila

(1515–1582)

BY DAVID LEWIS

INDEX

ST. TERESA was born in Avila, in the kingdom of Spain; March 28, 1515, and baptized in the Church of St. John Baptist, April 4th, Wednesday in Holy Week. On that day Mass was said for the first time in the Monastery of the Incarnation of the Order of Carmel, where she spent so many years of her life as one of the religious of that house.

Her father, Don Alfonso Sanchez de Cepeda, of an old and honourable race, was twice married and twice widowed. His first wife was Dona Catalina del Peso y Henao, by whom he had three children, one girl and two boys. His second wife, Dona Beatriz Davila y Ahumada, was the mother of nine children, seven boys and two girls. The elder of the two daughters, and the third child of the marriage, was St. Teresa, known for many years of her life as Dona Teresa Sanchez Cepeda Davila y Ahumada.

Don Alfonso was a man of solid piety, most charitable to the poor and the sick, very gentle and considerate with his servants. Dona Beatriz also took all pains to bring up her children in the fear and love of God, devout to Our Lady and the saints, and thus laid the foundations of the spiritual life of her daughter, who, before she was seven years old, would give alms out of the little money she had, and contrive to be alone that she might say her prayers, especially the Rosary. St. Teresa in playing with the other children would delight in imitating religious, and she tells us that she believed she wished to be a nun, but yet not so much as she wished to be a hermit or a martyr.

She and one of her elder brothers read lives of saints together. When she read of martyrdom it struck her that this was a very small price to pay for the vision of God, and discussed with her brother how they could obtain it. The two children agreed that they must go to Africa, where the Moors would behead them because they were Christians. They resolved to execute their purpose, meaning to beg as they went, and so they left their father’s house by stealth. They had got as far as the gates of the city when they were met by one of their uncles, who took them home, to the great relief of their mother, who was sending the servants into the streets of the city in search of her missing children.

Disappointed in their hopes of martyrdom, the two children resolved on leaving the world and making themselves hermits in their father’s garden. They collected stones to build their cells, but their inexperience defeated them; the stones fell down from the walls they raised, and they knew not how to make them firm. St. Teresa was barely seven years of age when she did this, and she was perfectly serious in her childish way.

Her mother, always in delicate health, died towards the end of the year 1528 or in the beginning of the next, to the great sorrow of the Saint, who in her trouble went to the Church of Our Lady of Charity in the hospital of the city, where strangers and pilgrims were lodged. There before her image she implored Our Lady with tears to be to her a mother. Her prayer was heard, and she relates that in all her trials she was always succoured whenever she called upon that compassionate mother.

Early in 1531 her eldest sister married: in her too she had another most tender and loving mother, who watched over her with a jealous eye, and in whom she could detect nothing but goodness. On the departure of her sister for the country where her husband lived, Don Alfonso took the Saint to the monastery of the Augustinian nuns, who had a school for persons of her age and condition, for she was too young to be left at home as mistress of her father’s house. She, however, always accusing herself, says that the reason why her father sent her from home was her own giddiness and vanity. She had become fond of dress, she says, took pains with her hands and her hair, made use of perfumes, and was very fastidious about her person. There were also some cousins who frequented the house, and who could not well be refused admittance, though Don Alfonso much regretted their presence. With one of these the Saint was too familiar, as she says, and too fond of listening to her stories of her follies. Teresa was also fond of reading, and continued so all her life, but at this time she spent much in reading the romances of the day-tales of chivalry. This habit she had acquired under her mother, who used to amuse herself with these books in order to forget, if she could, the great bodily pains to which she was subject. All this, however, was kept secret, and Don Alfonso knew nothing of it.

The Saint was very much distressed when taken to the monastery, regarding her removal from home as a punishment, and for about a week suffered much-more, however, on account of a suspicion she had that her vanity was known than from her seclusion in the convent. She went to confession as soon as she could, and she was more contented than she would have been at home. All the nuns were pleased with her, for Our Lord, she tells us, had given her the grace to please everybody. And indeed it is known that she was a most winning and charming woman.

She was most open with her confessors; and now in the convent having told all about herself she was consoled by hearing that in all those things which she calls her vanities she had not sinned. She became fond of a religious, Dona Maria Brizeno, who slept in the dormitory of the seculars, and took great delight in her conversation. Dona Maria, a person of great sanctity, whose conversation was such as became her state, made a great impression on the Saint, and removed from her mind in some measure the dislike she had to be a nun. “If I saw anyone weep in prayer I envied her, for my heart was now so hard that I could not shed a tear if I read the Passion through.” She said many prayers, and used to ask the nuns to pray for her that she might learn how she was to serve God ; but she did wish not to be a nun and that God would not call her to religion; at the same time she was afraid of marriage. She remained in the monastery a year and a half, but towards the end she had a greater inclination towards the religious life ; not, however, in that house. She had a friend, Dona Juana Suarez, in the monastery of the Incarnation, and that determined her to be a nun, if a nun she must be, of the Order of Carmel.

These good thoughts vanished, and she says that afterwards she could not persuade herself to become a nun. She had a serious illness and was taken home. On her recovery it was settled that she should go to her married sister in the country. She stopped on the way at the house of Don Pedro, her father’s brother, who detained her for some days. He was a widower, and spent all his time in devotion, and at last, giving up all his possessions, became a friar. He made the Saint read to him; and though she did not like the books she appeared as if she did, for she would always sacrifice her own pleasure for that of others. The conversation of her uncle made an impression upon her, and she understood the truth she had heard as a child that all things are nothing and the world vanity. “I also begin to be afraid,” she says, “ that if I were then to die I should go down to hell.” She could not, however, bend her will to become a religious, though she saw it was the best and safest course. Nevertheless by degrees she did violence to herself, and determined to give herself to God.

This struggle with herself lasted three months, but she does not seem to have communicated her trouble to anyone. Teresa trod the wine-press alone, and would say to herself, when she thought of her own delicate nature, her poor health, the fainting-fits to which she was now subject, that she could not endure the hardships of the religious life ; and then she would answer herself that the sufferings of a nun cannot be greater than the pains of purgatory, that she deserved to be in hell, and that it would not be much to spend the rest of her life in purgatory and win heaven. During those months of her inward trials she became fond of reading good books, which helped her very much, especially the epistles of St. Jerome. At last she told her father of the resolution to be a nun. Don Alfonso was a good man, but the love of his child prevailed ; and she had more of his love than any of his children. He refused his consent, and neither the prayers of his child nor the entreaties of others could move him. He was as resolute in refusing as she was resolute in going. All she could get from him was that she might do as she pleased after his death. The Saint saw the danger of delay, and made up her mind to execute her purpose at whatever cost.

While preparing herself to obey the call of God, Teresa persuaded one of her brothers to become a friar. The brother and sister had laid their plans, and early one morning secretly left their father’s house-he for the Dominican house in Avila, she for the Monastery of the Incarnation where her friend Dona Juana Suarez was a religious. “I remember perfectly well,” she wrote afterwards, ‘ and it is quite true, that the pain I felt when I left my father’s house was so great that I do not believe the pain of dying will be greater; it seemed as if all the bones in my body were wrenched asunder.” This was on November 2, 1533, the feast of All Souls.

She went to that Monastery because she wished to be with her friend, but would have gone to any other if she could have served God more faithfully in it, or to any convent that her father preferred. God led her by her natural affection for that nun, while she was trampling on a greater natural affection-her love of her father. The nuns received her, but at the same time sent word to Don Alfonso. The father hurried to the monastery, but he returned home without his child; God changed his heart, and he made the sacrifice demanded of him.

The novitiate seems to have been a cross. “ I suffered much uneasiness,” she says, “ about things in themselves of no importance, was found fault with very often when I was blameless. I bore it painfully and with imperfection. However, I went through it all because of the joy I had in being a nun. When they saw me seeking to be alone, and even weeping over my sins at times, they thought I was discontented, and said so.” She confesses, too, that she was vain in some things : she did not know how to use the Breviary or how to behave in choir; she knew the other novices could have taught her, but “ I never asked them,” she says, “ that they might not know how little I knew.” She says her singing was bad, that she made mistakes and was ashamed of doing so in the presence of the nuns. But at last she asked to be instructed in her part before she entered the choir; it was a pain to her at first, and then it became a pleasure to do so. When she became indifferent about her good singing she sang much better and she was never vexed at its being known in the monastery that her singing was not good.

She conquered herself in another way: she had been brought up delicately, as became her state, but now she made an effort to overcome her fastidiousness. There was a nun ill in the house of a very loathsome disorder, and the nuns were afraid of it. Teresa, admiring the patience of the sick sister, became her nurse, and prayed to have the like patience whatever illness might befall her. God heard her prayer, and in less than two years she was stricken down and to all appearance beyond the reach of human help.

But before this came to pass she made her profession, at the end of her year of novitiate. When the time had come she had to do violence to herself again: the tempter made another great effort to keep her in the world, as if he knew the great things she was to do. Teresa fought the battle alone, confiding her trouble to no one, and no one saw any sign of the inward tumult. She made her profession, and was filled with a great joy which she never lost.

This joy had now to be tempered with bodily illness of no common kind-a disease of the heart accompanied with pains so sharp at times as to deprive her of consciousness. The physicians of Avila had no remedies for it, and her father took her out of the monastery that she might be put under the care of a woman in Bezadas, who had a name for the treating of infirmities like those of the Saint. As the monastery was not enclosed, her friend Dona Juana was allowed to accompany her. They went first to their uncle’s house; then to her sister’s, where she spent the winter. There the Saint read a book called Tercer Abecedario, which treats of prayer, and resolved to follow the way of prayer described in it. She had now the gift of tears, and found pleasure in reading, loved to be alone, and went often to confession : but she had no one who would teach her how to make her prayer. Teresa made great progress notwithstanding, but she did not know it, nor did she understand her own state. “ I spent,” she says, “nearly nine months in the practice of solitude,” and all this while Our Lord Himself was her teacher. “He raised me,” she says, “to the prayer of quiet, and now and then to that of union, though I understood not what either the one or the other was, nor the great esteem I ought to have had of them.”

In April, 1536, she went to Bezadas, but the rough treatment made her worse, and the three months of her stay there brought her almost to death’s door. The pain at the heart was so sharp and unendurable that those about her feared it might end in madness. She loathed all food, and could do no more than drink that which they gave her: her bodily weakness was extreme, and with it all she was overwhelmed in great sadness.

But God gave her patience, she bore all her sufferings without a murmur, remembering the history of Job, and his resignation to the will of God. They brought her home to Avila in a state worse than that in which she had left it. In August, when the feast of Our Lady was at hand, Teresa asked for her confessor. Her father thought that she was afraid she was going to die and would not listen, hoping thereby to quiet her. “ That very night,” she says, “ my sickness became so sharp that I remained insensible for nearly four days.” She had the last Sacraments, and was expected to die every moment. Her father was inconsolable now, because he had kept her from confession.

They dug her grave in the monastery, and the Carmelite fathers sang the Requiem for her; for all believed that she must be dead. She recovered, however, and insisted on going to confession at once. Of that confession she says that it was of all her faults, “for this grace among others did Our Lord bestow on me, that ever since my first Communion I never failed to confess everything which I thought was wrong, even if it were only a venial sin.”

But she was still so ill that she could not swallow even a drop of water; she was bent, as she says, “like a coil of ropes,” unable to move any part of her body except one finger of her right hand. She could not bear to be touched, and they had to move her in a sheet. Even in this state Teresa would return to her monastery; and she did so in a most pitiable condition, which lasted more than eight months. She was paralysed for about three years, and praised God when she was able to crawl on hands and knees; that she regarded as nothing compared with the tortures she had undergone, and was content to remain in that state if that was the will of God.

Her longing for solitude, that she might give herself to prayer, made her wish for health; in the infirmary solitude was impossible. But she was not idle; she observed such exact measure of her words as to keep herself and those with whom she conversed from all detraction, and it was understood in the monastery that when she was present; absent persons were safe. She confessed and communicated more frequently, read much, but very often did not venture to pray, on account of the bitter anguish which came upon her because she had offended God. She was also kept from prayer because she did not see much improvement in herself, though she made good resolutions. Even her tears and contrition made her angry with herself.

Teresa had a great devotion to St. Joseph. The physicians of this world, she says, had failed her, and so she went to those of heaven. She had Masses said and prayers made for her: her wish for health prevailed, and St. Joseph healed her ; he “my lord and father,” she writes, “delivered me, and rendered me greater services than I knew how to ask for.”

She tells us that having recovered her health she began to forget the practices of her earlier days. She had to frequent the parlours of the monastery and in many ways had as much freedom allowed her as the older nuns; but she confesses that she never abused it. She had many friends, and was so winning in her ways that people eagerly sought her. One day while with a friend-it was at the beginning of her acquaintance with her-Our Lord stood before her, “stern and grave,” and made her see that her conduct displeased Him. “I saw Him,” she says, “with the eyes of the soul more distinctly than I could have seen Him with the eyes of the body,” and she resolved never to meet that person again. Satan, however, prevailed; she was made to think it was an imagination, yielded to the temptation, and returned to her new friend. She was told there was no harm in seeing her, and that she gained instead of losing reputation by so doing. On another occasion in the parlour with that person, a great toad crawled towards them in their sight and in the sight of others who were there. She recognized this to be another warning, but no one told her she was in the wrong except one of the nuns, then old, and a relative of the Saint. But even this did not restrain her-she frequented the parlour as before.

Teresa had now given up mental prayer, though in the beginning of her illness she had helped others to pray, and among them was her own father, whom she brought to adopt the practice of mental prayer. He made great progress in it, and that delighted the Saint. He came often to the monastery, for he found great comfort in speaking of the things of God. This was another torture to his daughter, who for a year and more gave up the practice, thinking it an act of great humility to abstain. She was always honest, so she told her father that she did not pray; she alleged her health as her excuse, and that she could do no more than pray for the community. He believed her, but was sorry for her, for he had found the treasure of prayer himself. He came to the monastery as usual, and having seen his daughter, would quickly go away, saying that he was wasting his time.

Though Teresa gave up her practice of mental prayer, she intended to resume it; she “was waiting to be very free from sin first,” yet she was unable to mention a single mortal sin, and during the whole of this time her confessors found no fault with her. This false humility was about to be corrected, for her father fell ill, and she, not being bound to enclosure, had leave to nurse him in his sickness, which was his last. He died as he had lived, to the great joy of the Saint, who nevertheless felt acutely her loss, for he was to her all the comfort and good of her life, and she his most cherished child. Her father’s confessor was the Dominican friar, Father Vicente Baron, and to him she made her confession, giving him at the same time an account of her whole life, and of her mental prayer which she had abandoned. The father charged her to resume her prayer, never to omit it, and to go to Communion once a fortnight. Obedient to his directions, her life became a burden, because she learnt in prayer more and more her faults; she took delight in the things of God, but she frequented the parlour, and tried to reconcile the life of the spirit with that of sense.

She persevered in prayer; and God rewarded her so abundantly that she, looking upon herself as a great sinner, felt these graces of God as “a fearful kind of torment.” She dreaded the time for prayer, for she knew no penance she would not have more willingly endured than going to her oratory to pray.

God visited Teresa in visions and revelations, and she, still thinking herself to be a most miserable sinner, began to be afraid of delusions. She saw that these visitations of God were inconsistent with her way of life, though she was labouring to mend it. She was raised to “the prayer of quiet and very often to that of union which lasted some time”; but her fears grew. She had no one to help her and yet God Himself was directing her the whole time. She heard of some priests who would help her-the Fathers of the Society had come to Avila-but she “did not think herself fit to speak to them.”

Teresa had heard of a learned priest in the city, greatly respected for his saintly life ; she resolved to consult him, and contrived to do so, with the help of Don Francis de Salcedo, his friend, and a friend of her and her family. Don Francis, like his wife, was a man of prayer; after her death he became a priest, and was chaplain and confessor of the Carmelites of St. Joseph’s which the Saint had founded. For twenty years of his married life he attended the theological lectures of the Dominicans in Avila. He brought that priest, Gaspar Daza, to the Monastery of the Incarnation, and the Saint made known to him the state of her soul and her way of prayer, but he would not hear her confession. However, he gave her strong counsel; but the Saint confesses that she could not have made any progress under his direction, although he had a special grace and gift for the conduct of beginners.

She was disappointed in this, but afterwards saw in the failure of Gaspar Daza that it was a grace of God “that I might know,” she says, “and converse with persons so holy as the members of the Society of Jesus.” But she was still afraid of them, and made Don Francis, the layman, her director; he helped her to overcome her imperfections by sound counsel and by the story of his own difficulties and weaknesses. She improved under his direction, but Don Francis became afraid when she told him of the great graces she received in prayer. He, being led by a different road, could not understand it, and told her that he was afraid she was under delusions. He asked her to explain to him the way of prayer : she replied that she could not, because she did not understand it herself. She was now greatly distressed, and wept over her misery.

Teresa looked into certain books treating of prayer; she found in one of them a description of her way of prayer, and showed it to Don Francis, who took the book to Gaspar Daza that they might consider it together. They considered the matter, and came to the conclusion that the Saint was deceived by Satan. Don Francis in great distress went to her with the information, which she received with great fear and dread. While they were considering this matter, she had prayed earnestly, and had asked others to pray, that she might be delivered from her anxiety. This was the result : she was told that she was deluded, and that she had better make a general confession to Father Juan de Padranos of the Society of Jesus, and observe with the utmost faithfulness the counsel he would give her.

She wept, but obeyed at once, and began to prepare for her general confession. The Father came and understood her state; it was the work of the Holy Ghost, he said, but she must make her prayer more systematically, because the foundation of it had not been properly laid. She was to force herself to make her prayer, and mortify herself, because the graces which God had given her were so singular. It might be the will of God to do great things by her. She was to meditate daily on the Passion, and resist the extraordinary effects of her prayer till he gave her leave to yield to them.

Teresa was now in great peace, obedient to the new direction and resolved to advance by self-denial and careful observance of all her duties, to practise greater poverty by cutting off all superfluities. She disciplined herself even unto blood, praying earnestly that Our Lord would keep her from falling again into her former ways.

At this time the Duke of Gandia, then Father Francis Borgia, of the Society, came to Avila. Her confessor and Don Francis de Salcedo brought him to the Monastery of the Incarnation, that he might examine the spirit of the Saint. He heard her, and said that her state was the work of the Holy Ghost; she was not to resist the sweetness and joy of her prayer as she had done for two months. This was a relief to her, and Don Francis himself was convinced that the Saint was not deluded.

Father Juan de Padranos was removed from Avila, and the Saint was in trouble again, not knowing how to find a confessor. One of her kinswomen obtained leave for her to come to her house, where she made the acquaintance of a lady given to prayer, Dona Guiomar de Ulloa, who took her to Father Baltasar Alvarez. “He began,” says Teresa, “by putting me in the way of perfection.” He insisted on her giving up certain friendships which were harmless, though she admits there was too much natural affection in them. She resisted at first, and asked him if she must be ungrateful. He replied that she was to lay the matter before God, and recite the Veni Creator. Then she, having prayed for some time, began the hymn, and while saying it fell into an ecstasy. This was her first, and in it she heard the words, “I will have thee converse not with men, but with angels.” She was afraid at first, but was comforted at the same time. From that day forth, she says, “I have never been able to form friendship with, nor have any comfort in, nor any particular affection for, any person whatever except those who, as I believe, love God and strive to serve Him.” She gave up her friendships without pain either to herself or to her friends; they were even edified.

Now Our Lord laid upon her one of the heaviest of crosses-the opposition of good people. The great work of Our Lord in the soul of the Saint could not be hid, and those whom she had consulted did not all of them keep her secret. It became known that she had visions and revelations, and was unlike other devout persons in Avila. At this time her heart was pierced by the lance of the angel; and she made the vow of the highest perfection in all her actions. She had the consolation of learning from St. Peter of Alcantara that he approved of it and of all her ways.

Father Alvarez was now absent from Avila, and her confessor convinced himself, or seemed to do so, that her visions were illusions of Satan. He ordered Teresa to make the sign of the Cross when she had a vision, to point her finger at it in scorn. and be firmly persuaded of its diabolic .nature. This was very hard, for the Saint had no doubt about the visions; they were her treasure. She had defended herself as well as she could against the objections of those who knew of them, and had allowed them to say all they pleased without contradicting them ; and they charged her with want of humility. This last counsel of the confessor distressed her beyond measure : but she obeyed, though it was most painful to her to make the sign of the Cross whenever she saw Our Lord: “If they had cut me in pieces,” she says, “I could not believe it was Satan.” She held a crucifix constantly in her hand that she might not be continually making the sign of the Cross, and as for making signs of contempt she could not do so: it reminded her of the insults of the Jews. At last Our Lord consoled her, saying that she had done well to obey, and that He would make them understand the truth of the matter. Even her confessors proved a source of trouble to her, though Father Alvarez always consoled her, even when he was compelled to be hard with her. God had raised her to a high degree of prayer, but had not given her the knowledge of it, nor the ability to describe it : that is her own account. Then, when she was called upon by those who examined her spirit to explain herself, she could do nothing but repeat over and over again the same thing. At a later time God enabled her to speak, and she has spoken as no one had spoken before, so fully and so clearly.

Of herself, thus writes Teresa when she had been forty years in religion: “She occasionally heard interior locutions, had visions and revelations interiorly. She saw with the eyes of the soul, for she never saw anything with her bodily eyes, nor heard anything with her bodily ears: twice, she thinks, she heard a voice, but she understood not that which was spoken. It was a sort of making things present when she saw these things interiorly : they passed away like a meteor most frequently. The vision, however, remained so impressed on her mind, and produced such effects, that it was as if she saw those things with her bodily eyes and more.”

When told that her visions were the work of an evil spirit, Teresa replied that it could not be, for Satan would not do anything to help her to correct her faults. Father Alvarez defended her always, but was often overruled by those whom the Saint had been made to consult. Being very humble, he distrusted himself, and that occasioned trouble, for the others were very confident and remonstrated with him. When they were agreed that the visions of the Saint were the work of Satan, he told her to keep nothing hidden from him, and then if all her visions were the work of the devil she would come to no harm, for God would bring good out of evil. She obeyed him in everything, and for three years he had as much to suffer as she had. At last God made known to him the truth, and “I believe,” says the Saint, “that he received this light from the Blessed Sacrament.”

From first to last these trials of her spirit lasted six years; the more they tried her, the more she fell into a trance. Many prayers were made and many Masses were said that Our Lord would “lead her by another way.” But it was not the will of God; He had a great work for her to do, and He prepared her and directed her Himself through the furnace of that which was in reality the persecution or contradiction of good men, which is one of the greatest trials of saints.

There were nearly two hundred nuns in the Monastery of the Incarnation, and the Saint longed for a solitary life. She was subject to visits within the Monastery, and moreover her friends obtained leave for her to visit them at their houses. She was weary of this ; and one day in her cell with others like-minded, her niece, Maria de Ocampo, brought up under her care, said, in the midst of a conversation about a more retired life, that she would give a thousand ducats to build them a house, if they wished to be like the barefooted Orders. Maria was young, not at all given to austerities, but very fond of dress. No sooner had she thus spoken than she had a vision of Our Lord. Her offer was accepted, and she herself afterwards was among the early novices of the new Carmel, and later on Prioress of Valladolid.

The Saint communicated her desires and the offer of her niece to Dona Guiomar, who began at once to consider how to find a revenue for the new house. The Saint however, was not over-eager now; she had become fond of her monastery and of her cell, and could not leave them.

One day after Communion Our Lord bade her found the house, and made her great promises : He would delight in it ; it should be called the house of St. Joseph ; though the Religious Orders were then relaxed she was not to think that He was scantily served in them-for what would become of the world if there were no religious in it ? She was to tell her confessor all this, and that He asked him not to thwart her in the matter.

Teresa gave an account in writing of this to her confessor, who could not order her to abandon her purpose, though he saw no means of accomplishing it. He bade her tell her superior, the Provincial of the Order, and act according to his direction. She never spoke of her visions to the Provincial, who was told of the plan by Dona Guiomar. He was pleased, gave Dona Guiomar all the help he could, promising to accept the new covenant. She wrote also to St. Peter of Alcantara, who approved of the whole proceeding.

Instantly a violent persecution befell the Saint: “sharp sayings and keen jests.” People said it was folly: everybody was against her. Dona Guiomar was even refused absolution because she would not abandon the Saint, and was told she was bound to remove the scandal she had given.

Dona Guiomar laid the matter before a holy Dominican, Father Pedro Ibafiez: the Saint also went to him, but never said a word about any revelation, confining herself wholly to ordinary reasons, for she would have his opinion without respect to visions and revelations. “He asked us to give him eight days before he answered, and also if we had made up our minds to abide by what he might say.” “I said we had,” was the answer of the Saint, “but though I said so, and though I thought so, I never lost a certain confidence that the monastery would be founded. My friend had more faith than I: nothing they could say would make her give it up.”

Father Pedro told them afterwards that he had at first made up his mind against the foundation; he heard of the cry against the Saint, and was warned to be cautious. But when he began to consider his decision he was changed; he recognized the hand of God, and not only bade the Saint go on, but told her further how she was to accomplish her end, and to send to him anyone who objected, and he would answer him. The Saint being now reassured and her friend consoled, a house was bought, and the deeds of purchase were prepared; but the day before the papers were to be signed the Provincial declined to acknowledge the house, moved thereunto by the opposition of the nuns in the Monastery of the Incarnation.

People were now more certain than before that the Saint was doing a foolish thing, and hard words became more common. “I was now very much disliked throughout the whole monastery, because I wished to found another of stricter observance. It was said I insulted my sisters; that I could serve God among them as well as elsewhere, for there were many among them much better than I; that I did not love the house, and that it would have been better if I had procured greater resources for it instead of founding another. Some said I ought to be put in prison; others, but they were not many, defended me in some degree.”

Notwithstanding all this she was very happy; she submitted joyfully to the will of God, for she had done all she could to fulfil His command ; but she was unable to give up her conviction that the work would be done. Another trouble now befell her from an unexpected source. She received a letter from her confessor which seemed to charge her with disobedience. She was bid to acknowledge that all she had been doing was folly, and to abstain from her purpose because of the scandal she had caused. She humbled herself and set about examining her conscience; perhaps her visions were illusions and herself deceived. Her affliction was very great, but Our Lord came to her relief : He bade her not to distress herself: she had pleased Him greatly, and not sinned in the whole affair. This so consoled her that she regarded the persecution she had suffered as nothing.

At this time God visited her in prayer in a more wonderful way-in violent impetuosities of divine love and more marvellous trances. She never spoke of the work herself because of the commandment of her confessor, but the Dominican father was not bound to silence. He, being convinced that the new monastery was for the glory of God, communicated with Dona Guiomar; both of them wrote to Rome, and made what preparations they could for the foundation.

It was now bruited abroad that the Saint had had a revelation, so her friends came to her in great fear, saying that the times were dangerous and that she might be taken before the Inquisitors. She laughed, for she was never afraid of them, and offered to go herself before the judges, being conscious that she would not break even the least ceremony of the Church. She gave an account of all her visions and revelations to the Dominican: he said there was nothing to be afraid of.

Teresa remained quiet for five or six months “neither thinking nor speaking of the matter,” but not free from trouble, thinking her confessor, Father Alvarez, did not trust her. Then one day Our Lord said to her, “Be not troubled, this suffering will soon be over.” She was gladdened by the words because she thought that her death was nigh. She was very happy whenever those words came to her remembrance. That, however, was not the relief promised by Our Lord: this was the arrival in Avila of the new rector of the Society, Father Gaspar de Salazar, to whom, at the request of Father Alvarez, she made known her state. She used to feel the greatest repugnance to speak of the graces of God bestowed upon her but now “when I went to the confessional,” she tells us, “I felt in my soul something, I know not what, I do not remember to have felt so either before or after towards anyone. I cannot tell what it was, nor do I know of anything with which I could compare it. It was a spiritual joy, and a conviction in my soul that his soul must understand mine, that it was in unison with it, and yet, as I have said, I knew not how.” She knew nothing of the rector, had never spoken to him before, and now found in him the guide she needed, and the direction fitted for her state. Father de Salazar spoke to Father Alvarez and told him to console the Saint, and not to direct her along a road so narrow, but to leave the operations of the Spirit alone.

Shortly after this Our Lord began to urge the foundation of the new monastery, and bade the Saint lay the matter before the rector and her confessor. She was further required to tell Father Alvarez to make a meditation on Ps. xci.—Quam magnificata sunt opera Tua. Father Alvarez did so, and from that day forth he never opposed the Saint’s work.

The foundation of the monastery was now resumed in secret. But the Saint would do nothing against obedience, knowing, however, that if she spoke to her superiors in the Order all would be lost again as it was before. She asked her brother-in-law, Juan de Ovalle, to take a house in Avila. He consented. The house was bought for the Saint, with money furnished by two ladies who intended to become nuns, and with money sent her by her brother Lorenzo in India. The Saint never expected it, and her brother knew nothing of her affair. When her brother and sister had come to Avila she had leave to visit them, and was thus enabled to direct the workmen who were to make the house a monastery, without exciting suspicion. Somehow or other suspicion was aroused, and one day when the Saint and her sister went to hear the sermon in the Dominican church, the preacher broke out in violent reproaches against those who had visions and revelations. It was impossible to mistake his meaning, which could hardly have been better expressed if he had uttered the name of St. Teresa. The Saint heard it without being in the least disturbed, but her sister was less patient, and took her out of the church back to the Monastery of the Incarnation.

She was arranging the house in her poverty, for she had no money, and Dona Guiomar was in the same straits; once, having no money to pay the workmen, St. Joseph appeared and bade her employ them. She did so, and the money came. She was told by Our Lord that it was not expedient then to place the new monastery under the jurisdiction of the Order, and that she “ must send to Rome in a certain way, which He also explained; He would take care that I found help there; and so I did,” she says: “I sent to Rome as Our Lord directed me, for we should never have succeeded otherwise, and most favourable was the result.”

She returned to her brother-in-law, for her presence was necessary. One day, while her nephew, her sister’s son, was amusing himself among the materials amassed for the building, a piece of wall badly built fell upon and killed him. Nobody was by, and the child lay dead for some hours. His father was absent, and on his return found his child lifeless among the ruins. He lifted up the body and carried it straight to the Saint’s room, laid it down before her, and went out without saying a word. Meanwhile the mother, observing the gloom that had overspread the house, and the silence of the servants, suspected some great calamity, and, with loud cries and tears, rushed into her sister’s room. The Saint made her a sign to be silent. She then took the child into her arms and covered him with her veil. No one heard her utter a word, but very soon the child began to caress his aunt, who at once gave him to his mother and bade her kiss him. The child was not only alive, but without a sign of having been hurt. He was very fond of his aunt, and used to say to her that she was bound to see after his salvation, for he had been so near to the vision of God, but she had called him back. He survived her three years.

Don Juan de Ovalle had been in Avila since August 10, 1561, and towards the end of the year the difficulty of keeping the secret was becoming greater and greater. On the night of Christmas Day the Saint received an order from the Provincial to go with one of the sisters to Toledo, for the consolation of Dona Luisa de la Cerda, who was in great distress on account of her husband’s death. Dona Luisa had heard much of the Saint and of her great gifts, and, being a friend of the Provincial, obtained the order without difficulty. The Saint was troubled, “because,” as she says, “they thought there was some good in me, I knowing myself to be so wicked could not bear it.” Thus it always was with her; she never saw herself as others saw her.

She set out immediately for Toledo with one of the nuns, and her presence was of the greatest service to Dona Luisa, who conceived a great affection for her, which she returned. She had been required by Father Pedro Ibanez to write for him an account of her whole life, and now in the house of Dona Luisa she finished that which she had begun in the Monastery of the Incarnation.

In Toledo she was visited by Maria of Jesus, who had been a novice in the Carmelite Monastery of Granada, and, during her novitiate, had revelations about a reform of the Order. “Our Lord had moved her,” says the Saint, “in the same year that He had moved me, to found another monastery of the Order: and as He had given her this desire she sold all she possessed and went to Rome to obtain the necessary faculties. She went on foot and barefooted, “with two others of the Order of St. Francis. Pius IV heard her petition, and then looking at her bleeding feet said, “Woman of strong courage, let it be as thou desirest.” She returned to Granada, but the Carmelites and the town council would not allow her to found a house in the city; some even threatened to have her publicly whipped. It was from her that the Saint learnt that the old Carmelite rule enjoined absolute poverty. Not knowing this, she was about to found her house with revenues, that the religious might be free from all anxiety about their temporal affairs, “not thinking,” she says, “of the many anxieties which the possession of property brings in its train.”

The Saint saw that poverty was the safe course, but feared that she could not obtain the assent of others to the adoption of so severe a way of life, that they would charge her with folly, and tell her that she must not be the cause of suffering to others. She had now for some time wished, if it were possible in her state, to go about a beggar for the love of God, to have no house of her own, nor anything else.

She consulted the spiritual men of her acquaintance, as she did in everything, but hardly anyone approved. They had such good reasons for their opinion that Teresa was willing to give up her own, and admit they were in the right. But when “I returned to my prayer,” she writes, “and saw Our Lord on the Cross, so poor and destitute, I could not bear to be rich, and I implored Him with tears so to order matters that I might be poor as He was.”

She wrote to her Dominican friend, Father Pedro Ibanez, who “sent back two sheets by way of reply,” she says, “full of objections and theology against my plan, telling me that he had thought much on the subject. I answered that in order to escape from my vocation, the vow of poverty I had made, and the perfect observance of the counsels of Christ, I did not want any theology to help me, and in this case I should not thank him for his learning.”

St. Peter of Alcantara at her request came to the house of Dona Luisa. He knew the worth of poverty, and charged the Saint on no account to give way, and then Our Lord Himself told her that the monastery must be founded in poverty; that it was His will and the will of His Father, that everyone who served Him would never be in want of the necessaries of life. Father Ibanez came round to her views at last. “Now,” says the Saint, “I was in the greatest joy at hearing this : and having these opinions in my favour it seemed to me nothing less than the possession of all the wealth of the world when I had resolved to live in poverty for the love of God.”

When she had been about six months in Toledo the Provincial sent word that she might return to her monastery, but if she wished to remain she might stay. This was the time of the elections, and she was told that many of the nuns meant to elect her prioress: “though willing to suffer any kind of martyrdom for God, I could not persuade myself at all to accept this, and so I gave thanks to God I was not then in the convent, wrote to my friends and begged them not to vote for me.”

Glad to be free she would remain : but Our Lord told her she must return to Avila, and that, as she longed for a cross, there was a cross prepared for her, and a heavy one. She began to cry, thinking that the office of prioress was her cross and went to her confessor, who bade her go, for that was the more perfect course. Dona Luisa was very sorry, but acquiesced on being told that the parting was for the service of God. The Saint was distressed, and at the same time in great peace and joy because she was going to suffer. “Our Lord had told me,” are her words, “that I was going to carry a heavy cross-though I never thought it would he so heavy as I afterwards found it to be-and yet I went forth rejoicing.” Her absence from Avila was of service to her work, and her return at this time was necessary, for on the night of her arrival the brief sought for in Rome was delivered to Dona Guiomar. St. Peter of Alcantara had also come and was staying in the house of Don Francis de Salcedo, but only for about eight days. He helped the Saint in all her labours, and now went with Don Francis to the Bishop to do her another and greater service. He and Don Francis persuaded him to accept the monastery, though founded in poverty and a poor house, for it was very small. “Truly this is the house of St. Joseph,” said St. Peter of Alcantara, when he saw it, “for it is the little hospital of Bethlehem.”

“Everything was done,” says the Saint, “in the utmost secrecy; and if it had not been so, I do not see how anything could have been done at all: for the people of the city were against us, as it appeared afterwards. Our Lord ordained that one of my brothers-in-law should be ill, and his wife away, and himself in such straits that my superiors gave me leave to remain with him.” This illness of Don Juan de Ovalle enabled her to make all the arrangements necessary without exciting suspicion. “It was very wonderful, for his illness lasted no longer than was necessary for our affair and when it was necessary he should recover his health, that I might be disengaged and he leave the house empty, Our Lord restored him: and he was astonished at it himself,” for when he saw everything ready for the coming in of the religious, and his illness gone, he said to the Saint: “It is not necessary I should be ill any longer.” He knew then why he had been ill.

Then on the feast of St. Bartholomew, August 24, 1562, the Saint, being forty-seven years of age, and in the twenty-ninth year of her religious life, accompanied by two nuns of the Incarnation who also were outside their monastery at the time, but with the leave of the Provincial, took possession of the house of St. Joseph, the building of which had cost her so much labour and reproach, and founded the Carmel of the Barefooted. She gave the habit, assisted by the two nuns, to four religious. Those were Antonia de Henao, a penitent of St. Peter of Alcantara, whom he had prepared and reserved for the new foundation. She was henceforth known as Antonia of the Holy Ghost. The second was Maria de la. Paz, whom Dona Guiomar de Ulloa had brought up and kept for the house. The third was Ursola de los Santos. She retained her name, as Ursola of the Saints. She had been prepared for this by Gaspar Daza, the priest whom St. Teresa had consulted in the beginning of her troubles. The fourth was Maria de Avila, sister of Julian, the priest of that name, who remained faithful to the Saint in all her trials. She was called Mary of St. Joseph.

These were all received without a dowry; four poor orphans, as the Saint called them, but very rich in grace, four corner-stones of the new Order of Carmel ; older also as Barefooted Carmelites than the Saint herself, the foundress; for she was even now a nun of the Incarnation living under the Mitigated Rule, under the Provincial, and could not remain in the house of St. Joseph, any more than the two nuns who were with her; these were her cousins, Dona Inez and Dona Ana de Tapia. Gaspar Daza said Mass, at which were present Don Gonzalo de Aranda, Don Francis de Salcedo, Julian de Avila, her brother-in-law Don Juan de Ovalle, and his wife, her sister Dona Juan de Ahumada. The bell of the chapel weighed less than three pounds, and remained there for a hundred years. It was then transferred by order of the General to the monastery of Pastrana, and there the members of the general chapter assembled at the sound of the bell which was rung for the first Mass of the barefooted nuns of Carmel.

Saint Teresa was in the house lawfully, with the leave of her superiors, and “I did nothing,” she says, “without the advice of learned men, in order that I might not break in a single point my vow of obedience. If they had told me there was the slightest imperfection in that matter I would have given up the founding of a thousand monasteries; how much more then this one?”

“I felt,” says the Saint, “as if I was in bliss.” She had obeyed her confessors in all things, and had done that which Our Lord enjoined her; and for three or four hours was in great peace and joy. Then Satan began to torment her with scruples about obedience; with doubts about the perseverance of the religious in so austere a life, and even her own ability to live with them. Her distress became so great that she could think of nothing else, and her soul was plunged into darkness. “When I found myself in this state,” she says, “I went and placed myself before the most Holy Sacrament, though I could not pray to Him; so great was my anguish that I was like one in the agony of death. I could not make the matter known to anyone, because no confessor had as yet been appointed.”

In this distress she promised Our Lord to do all in her power to enter St. Joseph’s, and if it could be done with a good conscience, to make a vow of enclosure. “When I had done this,” she writes, “the devil fled in a moment and left me calm and peaceful; and I have continued so ever since. The enclosure, penance, and other rules of this house are to me, in their observance, so singularly sweet and light, the joy I have is so exceedingly great, that I am now and then thinking what on earth I could have chosen which should be more delightful.”

This fight with Satan fatigued her greatly, and she wished to rest a little after dinner, but there was no rest for her today. The nuns of the Incarnation had heard of her doings, and the Prioress sent for her. She went, leaving the four religious in great distress. She felt that there was more trouble for her, being persuaded that she would be put in prison. The thought of that, however, consoled her, because she longed to be alone, and in the prison of the monastery she would have solitude enough.

Teresa told everything to the Prioress, who was softened a little, but the Provincial must be told also. When he arrived at the monastery the Saint appeared before him to answer for her deeds. “I confessed my fault,” she says, “as if I had been very much to blame; and so I seemed to everyone who did not know all the reasons. After the Provincial had rebuked me sharply, though not with the severity my fault deserved nor according to the representations made to him, I would not defend myself, for I was determined to bear it all: on the contrary, I prayed him to forgive and punish, and to be no longer angry with me.”

The Provincial ordered her to explain her conduct before the community, and she obeyed. She spoke so well that neither the Provincial nor the nuns condemned her; and later on she spoke to the Provincial alone, who was so satisfied that he promised to let her go back to St. Joseph’s as soon as the city was calm again.

The town council and even the Canons of the Cathedral were disturbed. They held a solemn meeting to which the heads of the religious were invited, and resolved that the new monastery must be broken up. Father Banes, the Dominican, alone defended it, though even he objected to the vow of poverty as understood by the Saint, whom at that time he did not know, having never seen her. He told them that the matter did not concern them, and that it belonged to the Bishop. The town council was obstinate, and would have no monastery founded in poverty within its territory; and so the next day the mayor went to St. Joseph’s to expel the four nuns. Refused admittance, he threatened to have the door broken. The nuns replied that they were under the jurisdiction of the Bishop and not under his. He now came to his senses and retired, but was none the less bent on the destruction of the monastery. The town council then brought an action against the nuns, and St. Teresa, having no money, had to defend them. Her friends, however, stood forth in her defence, but no lawyers in Avila would undertake their cause, so they had to defend her as well as they could themselves, and the priest Julian of Avila in person served the writs. Don Gonzalo de Aranda went to Madrid. to plead; but before the trial began the zeal of the town council cooled, and the lawsuit was abandoned. Then in Mid-Lent, 1563, the Saint was allowed to return to her children among whom she meant to live as a nun under obedience, but the community appealed to the Bishop and the Provincial, and obtained from them the appointment of St. Teresa as prioress. She now changed her name, and Dona Teresa Sanchez Cepeda Davila y Ahumada was henceforth Teresa of Jesus, mother of the reform of Carmel.

The Saint had now a rest of five years, and these years, she says, were the most tranquil years of her life. The vow she had made in 1560 always to do that which is the more perfect was commuted; for her confessor judged it to been occasion of scruples both to herself and to those who had the direction of her life. The Provincial authorized Fra Garcia of Toledo to release her from that vow, and to have her free to renew it in another form with certain conditions essential to its validity, by the observance of which there could be no room for scruples. This was done. She was also free from all trouble of a secular kind, for though she possessed nothing she and her religious were rarely in want, and whenever that happened to them they rejoiced in it. The Saint, however, was not without her cross: she was always doubtful about the state of her soul and very much afraid of delusions. She consulted the ablest and most spiritual priests she could find; on one occasion she made known her state to an inquisitor, and all assured her there was nothing to be afraid of. It then came into her head that spiritual men might be deceived as well as herself, so for her own greater security she told her confessor to consult “certain learned men, though they were not much given up to prayer”; her desire was to be in the right way, and safe on the doctrine of the Church.

Early in 1567 the General of the Order came to Avila, and visited the Saint. She told him everything, giving him also a full account of her whole life. Her story distressed the General, for he had lost her through the weakness of the Provincial, she being no longer subject to him in the Order, but to the Bishop of Avila. The General asked for the briefs by which the Saint was allowed to build her monastery and to become subject to the Bishop. These were shown; the proceedings had been irregular; the Saint when told that she was no longer under the jurisdiction of the General was distressed. The General, with her own wish and consent, readmitted her, and, moreover, gave her leave to found other monasteries, all of which, however, were to be subject not to the Bishops, but to the Order. He also allowed her to remain in the new monastery, and forbade any of her superiors to send her back to the monastery she had left.

When the Saint began to found another monastery she recognized the need of the friars who would help the sisters; and there were no friars of her reform. The Bishop of Avila, too, saw that need, and asked the General to establish houses of men wherein the primitive rule should be observed. Others also made the same request, and the General himself wished it could be done, but the friars opposed him, and he therefore, for the sake of peace and the quiet of the Order, declined, at least for a time, to sanction the observance of the primitive rule.

St. Teresa herself wrote to him very earnestly, and obtained leave to found two monasteries of men in which the primitive rule in all its strictness should be kept, as in the new house of St. Joseph. She was glad to get the permission, but her troubles were only begun. She did not know one friar in the whole province who would accept the rule, nor any secular person who would enter the Order under these conditions. Nevertheless, she had no doubt that Our Lord would find the friars, and so she went to Medina del Campo, where, on the feast of the Assumption, she founded her second monastery of nuns, that of St. Joseph being the first.

She laid the foundation of that house in greater poverty than that poverty of St. Joseph’s in Avila. The house hired for her was in so ruinous a state that in a few days after taking possession she was forced to remove with her sisters to another, which was lent her till her own house could be made habitable. In all these troubles she was calm and joyous, rejoicing that she had to suffer, but at the same time effectually hiding from the other nuns all her own distress that they might not be discouraged and faint. She had gone to Medina del Campo without the approbation of her prudent friends. Some said she was mad; and even the Bishop who thought so highly of her regarded the affair as folly, though he was too generous to say so to her. She had, however, the help and encouragement of her confessors-Father Baltasar Alvarez, at that time rector of the house of the Society in Medina, and Father Banes, her constant friend.

In Medina del Campo she began to search for those who would begin the reform of Carmel, for she longed exceedingly to have friars under the primitive rule. She discussed the matter, but very secretly, with Fra Antonio de Heredia, the Prior of the Carmelites there. The Prior heard her with joy, and promised to be himself the first friar of the reform. She thought he was jesting, for he was nearly sixty years old, unused to austerities, and of a delicate constitution. He was a very good religious, recollected, fond of his cell, and learned; but the Saint did not think he could live as a Carmelite under the primitive rule.

Antonio, however, insisted upon it, and he assured her that he had a vocation. She accepted him on the condition that he would begin at once to order his life-he being Prior of Medina-according to the primitive rule. He submitted, and suffered greatly at the hands of his brethren, who regarded his conduct as akin to folly.

But she made a greater gain than this of Fra Antonio; she persuaded St. John of the Cross to abandon his purpose of leaving the Order of Carmel for the Carthusians. About a year later St. Teresa saw the beginning of the reform of the friars in a most poor house which she obtained for them in Duruelo.

The story of the friars’ reform thus begun belongs rather to the life of St. John though none will deny the guidance and inspiration of the holy Mother in this great work. What space then remains to us we shall devote to the foundations of nuns wrought by her in the last fourteen years of her life (1568–1582). We have already described at some length the beginnings of her first two houses, at Avila and Medina del Campo. We can do no more than outline in general fashion the story of her other foundations.

The great cities and towns of Spain were the scenes of these labours of hers-Malagon, Valladolid, Toledo, Salamanca, Alba de Tormes (where she was to die), Segovia, Burgos-to mention but the chief of them. 1568 saw her third foundation, that of Malagon. Between that year and 1571 five more were made. Then came a pause of three years when Teresa at the command of her superiors went back as Prioress of her old Convent of the Incarnation in Avila to revive there a somewhat flagging religious spirit.

Her period of office finished, she was once more on the road. Four more foundations were completed when for a second interval, this time of four years (1576–1580), her work as foundress was laid aside. A great wave of persecution was sweeping over the reform and a new Nuncio gave heed to the reports of enemies and ordered the Saint to make choice of one of her monasteries and remain there. Truth in time prevailed, and the storm over, Teresa, for the last time, set out on her weary journeyings. Only two years of life now remained to this aged and ailing woman but this did not prevent her completing in person four more foundations and directing a fifth, that of Granada.

Such is the list of St. Teresa’s labours in the closing decade and half of her life. But behind this dry catalogue of facts and figures and names and dates lies a story of ceaseless toil and travel. Very simply, as is her wont, she herself, in the Book of her Foundations, gives the sequence of these events. It is an illuminating document and shows Teresa in an entirely different light from that in which she appears in her other writings. In her Life, her Way of Perfection, her Interior Castle, as in her lesser works and poems, we see Teresa the mystic, the mistress of prayer and of spiritual things-Mater Spiritualium. But in the Foundations we glimpse another Teresa, the woman of affairs, the tireless traveller, the foundress. To see both facets is necessary for the understanding of this wonderful life, this harmonious blending of action and contemplation.

“There was I, a poor barefooted nun, without help whatever except in Our Lord, having nothing but the leave of the general and my good desires, and with no means whatever of carrying them into effect. Neither courage nor hope failed me, for as Our Lord had given one thing (her good desires) He would also send the other (their fulfilment). (Found., II, 6.) And again, “It was Our Lord’s good pleasure that no foundation should be made without great suffering for me.” (Found., XXIV, 10.) And finally, “Remember (this to her nuns) what you possess in peace has been wrought in poverty and toil; and if you look deeply into it you will see that most of these houses were generally founded not by man, but by the mighty hand of God.” (Found. XXVII, 9.)

In these simple words of the Saint herself is summed up the story of her foundations, made in poverty, in suffering, in face of endless difficulties and contradictions, but supported always “by the mighty hand of God.”

Seldom, if ever, did Teresa take the initiative in this work. As she went along appeals came to her, now from this town, now from that, for a colony of her nuns. Sometimes it came from the bishop; at other times from rich, devout lay-people anxious to give their wealth, and, at times, even themselves to God’s service; on occasion from the town authorities or municipality. From none did Teresa turn away where she saw but the least prospect of success, and there were even times when she went against all dictates of human prudence in obedience to the voice of God or of superiors. Once she had decided on a foundation she lost no time in getting the work under way.

“We travelled in carriages well covered, for that is ever our way of travelling,” she writes in describing the foundation of Seville. But these “carriages” were little better than covered wagons, unsprung and jolting things, made infinitely more painful by the roads of those days, rough and stony, at times, too steep and precipitous. In summer’s scorching heat as in winter’s chilling cold these journeys were made for days on end at times, and the only rest was a short stop by the wayside or a night spent in a poor inn or even sitting on the benches of some village church. When St. Teresa once compared life to a night spent in a bad inn, she had, no doubt, in mind these poor shelters of sixteenth century Spain.

And there were dangers as well as discomforts in these treks. Thus on her way to Seville for the foundation there in 1575 they were nearly drowned crossing the Guadalquivir in a boat. When the nuns were being ferried over in their “carriages,” the boat broke loose from the ferry-rope and, oarless, drifted helplessly down stream. A sand-bank on which it stuck and some timely help from the shore saved them from disaster. “We began to pray and the boatmen to shout,” writes Teresa of this incident. We have no doubt which proved the more effective.

Yet again on the way to Soria in 1581, the guide lost his way and led them into places where they had frequently to dismount, and took the “carriage” over deep precipices where it almost swung in the air. “I give Our Lord thanks because He was pleased to save us from the dangers of this road.” (Found., XXXI, 13.) Echoes surely of St. Paul: “in journeyings often, in perils of waters . . . in perils in the wilderness . . . in labour and painfulness . . . in hunger and thirst . . . in cold.” (2. Cor. ii. 26.)

And after long and painful journeyings, usually there followed equally long and painful negotiations for the purchase or renting of a house, for the soothing of interests which thought themselves threatened, for the licence of the Bishop without which no foundation could or would be made. For though Teresa had good friends and was not one to be haphazard in her ways, circumstances and the wishes of superiors often led her to foundations for which little or no preparation had been made. Not one but had its birth-pangs and trials at the commencement.

There was that Archbishop of Burgos who gave “with pleasure” permission to found in his city and who on her arrival there was angry at her coming, made endless difficulties, refused sanction for Mass, was glad at length when they got a suitable house but still refused permission and only yielded at last after long persuasion and delay. “He is a good man, even when he is angry, his anger passes quickly away.” (Found., XXXI, 36) was Teresa’s only comment on this difficult prelate.

And then there was that Princess of Eboh who brought the saint and her nuns to Pastrana but then made things impossible for them in that strange, perverse way that was hers. First she forced them to accept a nun from another order, and later, grief-stricken at her husband’s death, entered herself-but on her own conditions! This was the one monastery Teresa had to abandon, not for the suffering it caused herself but because of those dear daughters of hers persecuted and harried by a half-demented woman.

And nearly everywhere there was the same trouble over finding a suitable house, tedious searches, soul-deadening bargainings over price and conditions and lease and deeds and the rest, all the wearing and wearying ways of the world Teresa thought to have left for ever.

And finally the discomforts of the poor nuns on entering at last their new home, their utter want of everything, their dependence on friends who sometimes failed them, the cold and even the hunger of these early days. “We had brought nothing with us (they had nothing to bring) except what we had on, a tunic or two and a coif and what served for a covering for us in the carriages.” (Found., XXIV, ii.) “We were for some days with no other furniture but the two straw mattresses and the blanket, and on that first day (in March) we had not even a withered leaf to fry a sardine, when someone, I know not who he was, moved by Our Lord, laid a faggot in the church wherewith we helped ourselves.” (Found., XV, 3.) “At night it was cold and we felt it.” (Ib.) Elsewhere she tells of their being pleased to find an abundance of hay in a new house where they had nothing to sleep on or keep them warm.

Through all these trials and discomforts and in face of contradictions from good men (“O Jesus, what it is to have to contend against many minds,” she wrote somewhere), Teresa was upheld “by the mighty hand of God.” It was by His wish and under His guidance she undertook these toils, and as they were for His glory she looked to Him in all confidence. The history of her foundations shows He never failed her. “Teresa and two ducats are nothing but Teresa, two ducats and God are everything,” she wrote once when human aid was very low indeed and this was characteristic of her whole outlook.

Seventeen monasteries of women were the fruit, under God, of her many sacrifices (to say nothing of the fifteen convents of friars with which she had much to do also) no small thing for “a poor barefooted nun” with nothing in the world but her own boundless desires and the help of the good God who never failed her.

The last house founded by the Saint was that of Burgos, in April 1582. She was very ill, and with difficulty reached Valladolid about the end of July, where she was grossly insulted by a lawyer who would have her violate the provisions of her brother’s will. Because she was just, the lawyer called her a wicked nun, who was less good than many who lived in the world. The Saint accepted the reproach, merely saying, “Our Lord reward you for your charity,” as if she deserved to be thus treated.

The Prioress of Valladolid turned against her and sent her away from the monastery, and on September 16th the Saint reached Medina del Campo, where also the Prioress treated her with the utmost disrespect. She then went to Alba de Tormes, and nearly died on the road for want of food. She came to Alba on the evening of the 20th; the next morning she went with the utmost difficulty down to the church for Communion, and then returned to her cell and her bed, never again to leave them. Fra Antonio of Jesus, the first who promised to accept her reform, administered the last Sacraments. Unable to speak, she turned towards her faithful companion, the Venerable Anne of St. Bartholomew, and drew her towards her, and then crept into her arms: Anne held her there for fourteen hours, and then, seeing Our Lord with many saints at the foot of the bed, she prayed for her death that she might enter into joy; the instant she had finished her prayer the Saint was dead. It was on the feast of St. Francis, October 4, 1582.

********

Saint Thomas More

MGR. P. E. HALLETT

INDEX

INTRODUCTION

THE pamphlet on Blessed Thomas More, which has for long appeared in the catalogue of the. . . . , was but a portion of an address originally given by the late Justice O”Hagan to the Catholic Union of Ireland. This excellent piece of work is printed in fullas the Introduction to More’s Utopia and Dialogue of Comfort in Everyman’s Library. When in 1929 I was asked, in view of information since discovered, to revise the. . . . pamphlet, it was with some qualms of conscience that I agreed to alter the text of another man’s work, and now, upon a new edition being required, it would seem better to write a fresh pamphlet, though in many respects I cannot hope to equal the excellence of Justice O”Hagan’s work.

In a pamphlet of this size it would not be wise to give, in lengthy notes, the pros and cons of the many doubtful points or the evidence for the facts that I have incorporated. Once for all I must express my indebtedness to the work of Professors Chambers and Reed, of London University, and their devoted fellow-workers, who in the notes to the new edition of More’s English works, to Harpsfield’s Life of More (E.E.T.S.), and elsewhere, have printed such valuable new material.

I have tried to tell the story, within the narrow limits of a pamphlet, very largely in the words of More himself and his early biographers. Comment has been reduced ruthlessly, as almost an intrusion upon the eloquence of the simple facts and the beauty of the Tudor diction.

P. E. HALLETT,

Vice-postulator for the Cause of BB. John Fisher and Thomas More.

(Ed. Note: Ss. Thomas More and John Fisher were canonised by Pius XI in 1935, subsequent to the publication of this pamphlet.)

ON April 24th, 1474, in the parish of St Giles, Cripplegate Without, John More, gentleman, took to wife Agnes Graunger. Of this union six children were the fruit, of whom the second, Thomas, is the subject of this sketch. The exact date of his birth is uncertain, but probably it occurred on Friday, February 7th, 1477. Whether by this time his father had moved into the house in Milk Street, Cheapside, which he afterwards occupied, is also uncertain, but in any case the future martyr was born within the sound of Bow Bells and all his life remained a lover of London, its sights, its busy life, its varied types of people.

As a boy he attended St Anthony’s School, a free school attached to the Hospital of St Anthony in Threadneedle Street, and later on was received into the household of Cardinal Morton, Archbishop of Canterbury, at Lambeth Palace. Here lads would act as pages and at the same time have opportunity to advance in learning. At Christmas-time, when a play was being acted before my Lord Cardinal, young Thomas More would take his place among the players and commence with them an impromptu dialogue which never failed to give the greatest amusement to the audience. The old Cardinal marked his wit and intelligence and would often say, “ This child here waiting at the table, whoever shall live to see it, will prove a marvellous man.”

By the Cardinal he was sent to Canterbury College, Oxford, now part of Christ Church, where he diligently studied literature and philosophy. His father kept him very short of money, so that even for necessary repairs to clothing or boots he had to write home to obtain funds. In afterlife More used to praise his father’s wisdom in thus teaching him habits of frugality.

His father, Sir John More, was a successful lawyer, who eventually became a judge in the Court of King’s Bench. Wishing his son to follow in his footsteps he recalled him from Oxford and placed him at New Inn, an Inn of Chancery, for the study of law. The young man’s brilliant talents soon brought him to the fore. He studied at Lincoln’s Inn, he was reader at Furnival’s Inn, he lectured at St Lawrence Jewry on St Augustine’s De Ciaitate Dei to crowded and enthusiastic audiences. Nor did he neglect his studies in literature. With such scholars as Linacre, Grocyn, and Lily he studied both Greek and Latin, translating speeches and epigrams from one language into the other, becoming one of the best Latin orators in the country and in general taking his place as one of the foremost scholars in England in that time of great scholars.

Thus did fortune smile upon young Thomas More and the world attract him with gilded promises. Yet never was man less easily deceived by specious appearances. One of his earliest poems scoffs at fortune

“And yet her brittle gifts long may not last. He that she gave them looketh proud and high. She whirl’th about and pluck’th away as fast, And giveth them to another by-and-by. . . . Thus when she changeth her uncertain course, Up start’th a knave and down there fall’th a knight; The beggar rich and the rich man poor is Hatred is turned to love, love to despite. This is her sport, thus proveth she her might. Great boast she maketh if one be by her power Wealthy and wretched both within an hour.”

And the clear-sightedness which was so characteristic in him and the foundation of so much of his wit was supernaturalized by his deep religious convictions and his practice of constant meditation. For about four years he lived with the monks of the London Charterhouse, continuing his legal and literary studies, but joining in the prayers and penances of the monks, though taking no vows himself. During this time he debated with himself and his friends the question of his vocation. At one time he thought of becoming a Franciscan, at another of becoming a secular priest, but finally decided, in his humility, that he was unworthy of the high dignity of the priesthood and would be unable to reach the sanctity which it demanded.

Deciding therefore to marry, he visited Mr. Colt of Nether Hall in Essex, who was the father of “three daughters whose honest conversation and virtuous education provoked him there especially to set his affection.” Thus speaks Roper, More’s son-inlaw, to whose happy sketch all biographers of More are primarily indebted. He continues, “And albeit his mind most served him to the second daughter, for that he thought her the fairest and best favoured, yet when he considered that it would be both great grief and some shame also to the eldest to see her younger sister in marriage preferred before her, he then of a certain pity framed his fancy towards her and soon after married her.”

No marriage could have been happier. Though the eldest, Jane Colt was still in her teens, and More, now about 28 years old, taking her from the country to Bucklersbury in the very heart of London, found his delight in instructing her in literature and music. Three daughters, Margaret, Elizabeth, and Cecily, and one son, John, came to gladden the happy couple, but the eldest was only six when death claimed the young wife. Poor Mr. More must have been at his wits” end to know how to manage the four babies. Small wonder that without delay he married again, “rather for the ruling of his children, house, and family, than for any bodily pleasure,” says his biographer.

A most interesting letter written in 1535 by a Carthusian, Father John Bouge, who formerly had been in charge of St Stephen Walbrook, close by More’s house, gives us a picture of his former parishioner. . . .

“I christened him two goodly children. I buried his first wife, and within a month after he came to me on a Sunday at night late and there he brought me a dispensation to be married the next Monday without any banns asking; and as I understand she is yet alive. This Mr. More was my ghostly child; in his confession to be so pure, so clean, with great study, deliberation, and devotion, I never heard many such; a gentleman of great learning, both in law, art, and divinity, having no man like now alive of a layman. Item, a gentleman of great soberness and gravity, one chief of the King’s Council. Item, a gentleman of little refection and marvellous diet. He was devout in his divine service, and what more . . . he wore a great hair (shirt) next his skin in so much that my mistress marvelled where his shirts was washed. Item, this mistress his wife desired me to counsel (him) to put (off) that hard and rough shirt of hair . . . it tamed his flesh till the blood was seen in his clothing.”

This second wife was Alice Middleton, the widow of a City merchant, by whom she had a daughter. She was not of the same spiritual fibre as her second husband, but she was a good manager, which was fortunate as More himself was generous to the point of extravagance, and she was a kind mother to his children. He used to rally her for her petty vanities, her talkativeness, and her sharp tongue, but they lived most happily together. No one could well get cross with so cheerful a husband as Thomas More. Between them there was constant good-humoured jesting. One day coming home after going to confession his wife bade him be merry, “for I have,” said she, “this day left all my shrewdness, and to-morrow will begin afresh.” She, like the first wife, was taught by her husband to sing and play the lute, for music, in opposition to dicing and card-playing was a pastime of which he approved. In the epitaph which More wrote for himself and which may still be read in Chelsea Old Church, he testifies to her great devotion to his children and declares that he cannot make up his mind which of his two wives was dearer to him.

Another anecdote, illustrative of his merry banter of his wife, may be given. She thought him not sufficiently ambitious of worldly advancement and upbraided him

“What will you do, that you list not to put forth yourself as other folk do? Will you sit still by the fire, and make goslings in the ashes with a stick as children do?”

“What would you do, I pray you?” replied her husband.

“By God, go forward with the first; for as my mother was wont to say-God have mercy on her soul-it is ever better to rule than to be ruled. And, therefore, by God, I would not, I warrant you, be so foolish as to be ruled where I might rule.”

“By my troth, wife,” said her husband, “in this I dare say you say truth, for I never found you willing to be ruled yet.”

Though he thought little of worldly honours, yet by the mere force of genius it was inevitable that More should rise to eminence. After leaving the Charterhouse he entered Parliament and soon secured an unenviable distinction by opposing King Henry VII”s demands for a subsidy. The king was very angry that his plans were foiled by “a beardless boy,” but not wishing to appear to interfere with Parliament’s right of freedom of speech, on some frivolous pretext he threw More’s father into the Tower, from which the old gentleman was glad to purchase release by a fine of £100.

In later years Sir Thomas was chosen as Speaker of the House of Commons.

Meanwhile he was building up a large practice at the Bar. He would try, whenever possible, to get the litigants to come to terms, and never would he accept any case in which he was not satisfied of the right of his client. He became immensely popular in the City and in 1510 was elected an Under-Sheriff. For the next few years he was constantly occupied in City affairs, in the business of the various guilds, the Fishmongers, the Bakers, the Saddlers, in arbitration, in the care of food-stuffs, in looking after the management of the sewers, of London Bridge, etc. Twice he went abroad on the affairs of City merchants, once to Flanders and once to Calais, and these visits opened up important literary connections. His labours as a peacemaker in the riots of “Evil May Day,” 1517, have their place in the history and the literature of the country.

The young King Henry VIII had already noticed the brilliant lawyer. More had visited him at Eltham Palace years before, and upon his accession had presented him with a poem of congratulation. Already the king had made tentative efforts to secure More’s services for himself, but More had no love of Court life and, as it used to be said of him, made as great efforts to keep out of the Court as others made to enter it. Curiously enough it was a case in which More successfully defended the property of the Pope against the royal claims that finally determined the king to permit no further refusal but to demand that More should enter his service. He made him Master of Requests and a month later Privy Councillor, giving him, as More afterwards sadly recalled, as notable and worthy a lesson as ever prince gave to his servant, viz., that he should first have respect and regard to Almighty God, and after that to the king his master. More now (July, 1518) resigned his office in the City and had to be in constant attendance upon the king. He accompanied him upon his progresses and attended him to the “Field of the Cloth of Gold” in 1520. He was constantly invited to supper with him and Queen Catherine, where he was expected to keep them merry with his wit and then to engage in learned discourse on astronomy or divinity.

Poor More began to chafe at the gilded fetters of Court life and to long for more leisure to spend in the company of his beloved wife and family. Sometimes indeed he would pretend to have lost his merriment, and the king would good-naturedly take the hint and allow him leave of absence. Even then the king would sometimes follow him and sit down, unheralded, to dinner with him and his family at Chelsea, or walk arm-in-arm with More along the garden paths. There is no doubt that the king was fond of More (who was not?) and he promoted him to one office after another, knighting him in 1521, and making him Under-Treasurer of the Kingdom, and then in 1525 Chancellor of the Duchy of Lancaster. But More was not blinded by the royal favour. When Roper, his son-in-law, congratulated him, he replied, with that uncanny foresight of his, “I thank Our Lord, son, I do believe His Grace doth as singularly favour me as any subject within this realm. Howbeit, I have no cause to be proud thereof. For if my head would win him a castle in France, it should not fail to go.”

It was in 1524 that More bought the land at Chelsea upon which he built himself a large and commodious mansion. Here, when his busy life permitted, he would dwell with delight surrounded by the numerous members of his household. Sir John More, his father, who, in spite of his “merry” saying that choosing a wife was like putting a hand into a sack filled with some harmless eels, but many more poisonous vipers, seems to have been married four times, was still living with his son. Mores four children married early in life and, instead of setting up separate homes, continued to live with their father, so that, by the time of his imprisonment, there were eleven grandchildren in his house. There were others, too, that More took into his household, the best known being Margaret Gigs, who married one of the tutors, John Clements, and is more commonly called by his name.

Erasmus, who stayed with More both at Bucklersbury and at Chelsea, was enraptured with his happy family life. It was, he said, as if Plato’s Academy had once more been established on earth. Yet though learning was insisted on, piety was put in the first place. More bade his household take piety and learning for their meat, play for their sauce. Roper gives a touching picture of the example More gave:

“ As Sir Thomas Mores custom was daily, if he were at home, besides his private prayers with his children, to say the seven psalms, litany and suffrages following, so was his guise nightly, before he went to bed, with his wife, children, and household to go to his chapel, and there upon his knees ordinarily to say certain psalms and collects with them: and because he was desirous for godly purposes some time to be solitary, and sequester himself from worldly company; a good distance from his mansion house builded he a place, called “The New Building,” wherein was a chapel, a library, and a gallery, in which as his use was upon other days to occupy himself in prayer and study together, so on the Fridays there usually continued he from morning unto evening, spending his time duly in devout prayers and spiritual exercises; and to provoke his wife and children to the desire of heavenly things, he would sometimes use these words unto them: “It is now no mastery for you children to go to heaven for . . . everybody giveth you good example. But if you live in the time”” (again that clear foresight !) ““that no man will give you good counsel nor no man will give you good example, when you shall see virtue punished and vice rewarded, if you will then stand fast and firmly stick to God upon pain of life, if you be but half good, God will allow you for whole good.”. . . . We may not look at our pleasure to go to heaven in feather beds, it is not the way.””

No one in that model household was allowed to be idle. More ascribed many of the evils of the day to the crowds of idle retainers kept by some of the noblemen, and he himself assigned tasks to everyone, so that when they left his service they were able to get employment. “I would not that any man were suddenly sent away he wot ne’er whither.” His own children had to study with close application and write him constantly accounts in Latin of their progress. Some of his charming letters in reply are preserved by Stapleton in his biography of More. It was unusual for ladies then to be so carefully educated and More must be regarded as a pioneer in the higher education of women. So proficient were his daughters that they once held a formal Latin disputation in Philosophy before the king. Margaret, the wife of John Roper, the eldest and best-beloved of this happy family, was also the most gifted. She corresponded on literary matters with Erasmus, the first scholar in Europe, with whose correspondence her letters are printed.

Amongst More’s epigrams is preserved a letter in Latin verse which he wrote to his children when he was travelling on horseback. He reminds them how he is ever thinking of them, how he never fails to bring back some little present for each of them, how they receive from him many more kisses than strokes with the rod, the rod itself being but a bundle of peacock’s feathers.

When correction was required he gave it so gently that Margaret Clements in later years used to relate that sometimes she deliberately committed some trifling fault, so sweet and loving was his reproof.

To his parish church-now called Chelsea Old Church-he was a constant benefactor, giving generously altar plate, vestments, etc. He built for himself and his family the chapel which now forms the south aisle. He thought it an honour, even when Lord Chancellor, to serve Mass or to put on a surplice and chant in the choir. Once the Duke of Norfolk, coming to dine with him, found him so employed and remonstrated with him, “God’s body, my Lord Chancellor! What! a parish clerk, a parish clerk! You dishonour the king and his office!” “Nay,” replied Sir Thomas smiling, “Your Grace may not think that the king, your master and mine, will with me for serving God his Master be offended, or thereby account his office dishonoured.”

In the processions of the Rogation Days, which covered several miles around the countryside, More would carry the cross, and even when Chancellor he refused to ride, following his Master (he said) who went on foot.

During the sixteen years Roper lived in his house he bears witness that he never once saw him angry. Yet Roper himself was clearly trying at times. He became imbued for a time with Lutheran ideas and conceived an unreasoning abhorrence for his father-in-law. Long did More gently reason with him, but to no purpose. At last he told Margaret that he would argue no more, but pray for her husband. Very soon afterwards Roper saw his folly and ignorance and became one of the most fervent of Catholics.

Another example of the efficacy of More’s prayers was given when his daughter Margaret lay dying of the sweating sickness. The physicians gave no hope and “God’s marks, evident undoubted token of death, plainly appeared upon her,” but to Sir Thomas, most fervently praying in his chapel for her recovery, came suddenly the remembrance of a hitherto unemployed remedy. He mentioned it to the physicians, who wondered that they had not themselves thought of it, and it was successful. Had she not been restored to him, he had determined that he would never more “meddle with worldly matters.”

Throughout the whole of his busy life More never neglected the study and practice of literature. As a guide to his own life, he translated into English, probably about the time of his marriage, the life of another who, like himself, aimed at combining the practice of Christian perfection with the “New Learning,” viz., John Picus, Earl of Mirandula. About 1513 he wrote the History of Richard III, a classic of our language, epoch-making in an age of chroniclers.

Then, whilst on his embassy in Flanders, he had begun to write his most famous book, which has been translated into practically every European tongue and given a new word to every language, the Utopia. This extraordinary work brought him friends from all over Europe. We cannot now deal with the many problems it suggests, but it may be well to say that whilst there is much in it upon which More felt most deeply, e.g., the depopulation of the countryside owing to the change of arable into grazing lands, yet it would be the greatest mistake to take everything in the book as More’s serious and considered opinion. More loved to mystify his family and friends, who found it hard to know when he was jesting. “Ye use to look so sadly,” one complains, “when ye mean merrily.” More gives the Utopians women priests, but when Tyndale makes a similar suggestion More makes great fun of him. “His heresy reckoneth every woman a priest, and as able to say Mass as ever was St Peter. And in good faith, as for such Masses as he would have said, without the canon, without the secrets, without oblation, without sacrifice, without the Body or Blood of Christ, with bare signs and tokens instead of the Blessed Sacrament, I ween a woman were indeed a more meet priest than St Peter.” Then again More, himself a lawyer, makes the Utopians distrust lawyers and refuse to have them in the country, and he tells us how in their hatred of avarice they use gold for pots and pans and the basest of uses, and as chains for malefactors. Yet amidst much that is merely whimsical there is plenty of sound common-sense which has made More into almost a patron saint of social reformers.

About the year 1522 he began to write a book “On the Four Last Things.” Of death he treats powerfully and at length, so that it is clear that the thought of death was one on which he constantly dwelt. The book was never finished, for when he begins to treat of the vice of sloth, with unconscious humour the editor notes, “Sir Thomas More wrote no farther of this work.”

But momentous events were occurring and More was swept farther away from the quiet and leisure that he loved. Luther had revolted from his allegiance to the Holy See and had begun to attack Catholic doctrine. Henry VIII wrote against him, and when Luther replied with foulmouthed abuse, More wrote on his master’s behalf a Latin work which, in Stapleton’s words, left Luther “more dumb than a fish.” There is in the book plenty of hard-hitting and even coarse abuse, as was the style of contemporary controversy, but it is nevertheless full of powerful reasoning.

Luther’s teaching, however, was penetrating into England, and the old method of confiscating and burning heretical books was proving insufficient. It says much for More’s learning, skill, and devotion to religion that he was the person selected by the Bishops to undertake to reply to the heretics in the vernacular. The licence he received to read and retain their books is dated March, 1528, and before the year was out he had produced the first and most brilliant of a long series of controversial works, The Dialogue. Full of humour (“A merry tale,” says More, “cometh never amiss to me”) it nevertheless bears eloquent witness to the firmness of Mores faith in spite of his clear sight of many current abuses, and to his profound grief at the harm done by heresy. In the next five years there flowed from his pen those writings that fill the large volume of his “English Workes,” which, as Stapleton asserts, did so much good under the short-lived Catholic restoration of Queen Mary’s reign. How during these busy years, he found the time to write these immensely long treatises is perhaps explained by Stapleton’s assertion that he rarely gave more than four or five hours to sleep that he rose at two o‘clock and devoted himself to study and prayer until 7.00 A.M. At any rate, during these years he conducted the English controversy single-handed (though Blessed John Fisher had written much in Latin), and produced more than all other English Catholic writers, clergy and laity combined. The clergy wanted to testify to their appreciation of his labour by an offering of money. He, whilst thanking them, told them he would rather have cast their money into the Thames than take a penny of it, that it was for God’s sake he had undertaken the labour and that no money could repay him for half the labour and business that he had taken.

Other troubles had arisen. It was an evil day for England when first Henry VIII set eyes on Anne Boleyn. We need not enter into the long story of Henry’s machinations to rid himself of Catherine, his wife. It was upon the rock of the divorce that the fair ship of Wolsey’s fortunes had foundered. Sir Thomas had been consulted by Henry, but though he made it clear that he could not condemn the marriage with Catherine, yet he managed to escape the anger of the king, who said he would henceforth employ him in matters in which he felt no scruple of conscience. Now when Wolsey had been deprived of his office of Chancellor, the king forced More, much against his will, to be his successor. It was an unprecedented thing for a commoner like More to hold the Great Seal, though Wolsey said indeed that no one in England was more worthy of the honour. It was commonly thought, both in England and abroad, that Henry was offering a bribe to obtain support in the business of the divorce, but if this was Henry’s intention he had utterly failed to understand Mores character.

More set himself to work with diligence and impartiality. When later on he had lost the royal favour, he was charged, by persons anxious to please the king, with corrupt practices, but in no case could the charge be substantiated. His own relatives complained that they found no favour at his hands, but without success, for, as he said, “if the parties will at my hand call for justice, then were it my father stood on the one side and the devil on the other side (his cause being good) the devil should have right.”

The mention of his father recalls the fact that the old gentleman lived to see his son Chancellor and indeed was still acting at that time as a judge in the King’s Bench. As More passed through that court on his way to Westminster Hall, he would go up to his father and, in the sight of all, kneel and ask his blessing.

So expeditious was hethat on one occasion all the outstanding cases were finished. “Thanks be to God,” cried More, “that for once this busy tribunal is at rest.” A punning rhyme recalls the fact:

“When More some time had Chancellor been

No more suits did remain.

The like will never more be seen

Till More be there again.”

In the curious epitaph which More composed for himself he tells posterity that whilst he had the favour of both nobles and people he was “grievous to thieves, murderers, and heretics.” The company in which he places them clearly shows how sincerely he regarded heretics as pestilent disturbers of public tranquillity, and he set in force the laws against them which under Wolsey had been laxly administered. Yet so long as his influence lasted, no one was put to death in London for religion. It was when Henry’s ecclesiastical difficulties began to grow acute that he sought to assure his people, or perhaps himself, of his own orthodoxy by relighting the fires of Smithfield.

More had loyally served his king as long as his conscience allowed him, but seeing Henry’s growing infatuation for Anne Boleyn, and the danger of schism looming large on account of Henry’s impatience with the Pope, he made the excuse of bad health, not without real foundation, and persuaded the king to accept his resignation. The monarch commended his valuable services and promised that in any suit More might hereafter have, he should find him a good and gracious lord unto him. “Put not your trust in princes.”

More returned with delight to his beloved retirement, “to bestow,” as he said, “the residue of my life to come about the provision formy soul in the service of God,” and redoubled his activity in writing works of controversy as if he foresaw that his time was now short. His wife and children were not so pleased at his resignation, for he was now a comparatively poor man, but he strove to make them contented with their condition. At the worst, as he said to them, “we may yet with bags and wallets go a-begging together, and hoping that for pity some good folks will give us their charity, at every man’s door to sing Salve Regina, and so still keep company and be merry together.” For lack of other fuel they used at night to make a blaze of dry bracken to warm themselves “and so without any other fires to go to their beds.”

More knew quite well in what danger he stood, in spite of the king’s fair promises, more especially when, in June, 1533, he refused to be present at the coronation of Anne Boleyn. The Duke of Norfolk told him how perilous it was to quarrel with the king.”Indignatio principis mors,”* quoted His Grace. “Then,” replied More calmly, “the only difference between us is that I shall die today, and you will die tomorrow.” He tried to prepare his family by re- counting to them stories of the early Christian martyrs and by emphasizing the happiness ofthe martyr’s death. “A man may very easily lose his head,” he used to say, “and yet come to no harm.”

Mutterings began to be heard of the coming storm. He was accused of printing an answer to a manifesto issued by the King’s Council in justification of the king’s new marriage. He had no difficulty in disposing of that lie.

More serious was the matter of Elizabeth Barton, a nun of Canterbury, who was commonly known as the Holy Maid of Kent. She claimed to have received revelations from God which she was commissioned to deliver to the king, warning him of a terrible chastisement if he went on in his evil ways. She visited the Archbishop of Canterbury and the saintly Bishop of Rochester, who advised her to see the king himself, which she did. More met her on a visit to the convent at Sion House and seems to have been impressed by her goodness. He refused, however, to listen to any word concerning the king and warned her very earnestly not to meddle in the affairs of the realm.

The sequel was a Bill of Attainder in which the nun and several of her friends were charged with treason, More, Fisher, and others with misprision (or concealment) of treason. More wrote to Cromwell, the king’s secretary, a detailed account of his cautious dealing with the accused nun, but he was nevertheless summoned for examination before four of the King’s Council. The king’s intention clearly was that they should win More over to approval of the divorce policy, “wherein,” says Roper, “His Grace was much deceived.” They began by recounting the many favours More had received from the king and suggesting that out of gratitude he ought to add his consent to what had been agreed upon by the Parliament, the bishops, and the universities. More humbly acknowledged his indebtedness to his sovereign, but added, “Howbeit, I verily hoped I should never have heard of this matter (of the divorce) more since I have always from the beginning so plainly and truly declared my mind unto His Grace; which His Highness ever seemed to me, like a most gracious prince very well to accept, never minding, as he said, to molest me more therewith.”

Much more was said, but seeing that their words were without effect, the Councillors took a different line and began to charge him with villainous and treacherous behaviour in inducing Henry VIII to speak on behalf of the Pope’s authority in his book against Luther, and to warn him of the fearful anger of the king.

More smiled. “These terrors be arguments for children,” he cried, “not for me.” He went on to show how, on the contrary, he had advised the king not to emphasize too much the temporal authority of the Pope, but had been overruled.

So merry was he on his return to Chelsea that Roper ventured to say that he trusted all was well. “It is so indeed, son Roper, I thank God,” replied More.

“Are you then put out of the Parliament Bill?”

“By my troth, son Roper, I never remembered it.”

“Never remembered it,” said Roper in dismay, “a case that toucheth yourself so near, and all of us for your sake. . . . I verily trusted, when I saw you so merry, that all had been well.”

Then said More: “Wilt thou know, son Roper, why I was so merry? I rejoiced, son, that I had given the devil a foul fall and that with those lords I had gone so far as, without great shame, I could never go back again.”

Meanwhile the Lords had reported to the king, who angrily commanded them to proceed with the Bill of Attainder.

More, however, had appealed to be heard by the House of Lords, who indeed were anxious to hear his defence. The king’s councillors knew that he had been so circumspect and blameless in the matter that they feared that the Lords would throw out the whole Bill if his name were not removed from it. They had, however, to go upon their knees to the king before he would consent to its omission. The Bill then passed and, after a public recantation, how obtained we need not stop now to enquire, the nun and several of her friends were executed at Tyburn (April 21st, 1534).

* The anger of a prince is death.

Cromwell sent a message to More that he was left out of the Bill, but the latter said ominously to his daughter on receipt of the news, “Quod differtur, non aufertur” (i.e., the danger is but postponed).

There was indeed not long to wait. In less than a month’s time after More’s examination, there had received the royal assent (March 30th, 1534) the Act of Succession, which empowered the royal commissioners to require an oath from the king’s subjects to observe the contents of the Act. More received a summons to attend at Lambeth Palace to take this oath on April I3th. Let Roper tell in his own touching words what he witnessed. “Then Sir Thomas More as his accustomed manner was always ere he entered into any matter of importance to go to the church and to be confessed, to hear Mass and to be housled.” (i.e., to receive Holy Communion), “so did he likewise in the morning early the self-same day that he was summoned to appear before the Lords at Lambeth. And whereas he used evermore before, at his departure from his house and children (whom he loved tenderly), to have them bring him to his boat, and there to kiss them all, and bid them farewell, then would he suffer none of them forth of the gate to follow him, but pulled the wicket after him, and shut them all from him, and with an heavy heart (as by his countenance it appeared), with me and our four servants, there took his boat, towards Lambeth. Wherein sitting still sadly awhile at the last he rounded me in the ear and said “Son Roper, I thank Our Lord the field is won.” What he meant thereby, then I wist not. Yet loath to seem ignorant I answered, “Sir, I am thereof very glad.” But as I conjectured afterwards it was for that the love he had to God wrought in him so effectually that it conquered in him all his carnal affections utterly.”

A happy home the esteem of men, the king “s favour, honours, and wealth would have been his, had he been willing to act against his conscience. But it was not for nothing he had watched, prayed, fasted, and worn the hair-shirt. At the moment when the world seemed most alluring, when life seemed sweetest, calmly and open-eyed he turned aside to prison and to death.

In a long letter to his beloved Margaret he described how on that day the clergy of the London district and others obsequiously and eagerly took the oath, which, to make what excuse for them we may, had already been taken by the members of both the Upper and Lower Houses of Parliament. But More was not the man “to pin his soul to any man’s back,” however holy or learned. He expressed his willingness to swear to the succession as fixed by king and Parliament, but to the oath in the form in which it was presented to him, implying a denial of the authority of the Pope, he said he could not swear “without the jeoparding of his soul to perpetual damnation,” and from that position, despite their most earnest argument and persuasion, he refused to budge.

For four days he was committed to the charge of the Abbot of Westminster, whilst the king deliberated upon the course to pursue. Then on April 17th, as guilty under the act of misprision of treason, he was sent to the Tower to be detained during the king’s pleasure, i.e., for life.

Entering by the “Traitors” Gate,” More was in his usual high spirits. The porter as a perquisite demanded his upper garment. More, with a twinkle in his eye, offered him his cap. At first a certain liberty within the Tower was accorded him, and in all sincerity he used to say that the king had never done him a greater favour than to send him where he had relief from the pressure of business and leisure for his devotions. With a reference to his lifelong love of the monastic life he assured Margaret, who managed to get access to him under the pretext that she might be able to move him from his resolution, that had it not been for his wife and children, he would not have failed long ere that to have closed himself “in as strait a room and straiter too.” The Lieutenant came to him to apologize for the meagre fare. Sir Thomas replied, “Mr. Lieutenant, I heartily thank you. Assure yourself I do not mislike my cheer, but whensoever I do so, then thrust me out of your doors.”

His wife, too, was able to visit him and was even less understanding than Margaret. How could they be blamed for considering him to be the victim of some strange delusion, when all the bishops, save Fisher, and practically all the clergy, had taken the oath. “I marvel,” began the irate dame, “that you, that hitherto have been taken for a wise man, will now so play the fool, to lie here in this close, filthy prison, and be content thus to be shut up among mice and rats, when you might be abroad at your liberty, and with the favour and goodwill both of the king and his Council, if you would but do as all the bishops and bestlearned of this realm have done.” Then she went on to speak of his house at Chelsea, his library, his garden, his so dearlyloved family, etc. With a smile he answered, “Is not this house as nigh heaven as mine own?” And when she replied impatiently he went on, “How long, then, Mistress Alice, do you think I may enjoy a happy life at Chelsea?” “A full twenty years,” she said, “you are not old yet.” “My good wife,” he gently replied, “you are not very skilful at a bargain. Would you have me, for twenty years, give up eternity?”

During the earlier days of his imprisonment he wrote a Dialogue of Comfort against Tribulation, which in its wit, its repose, its deep piety and pathos must rank very high amongst spiritual classics. Also he began a history of Our Lord’s Passion, but when he reached the words “and they laid hands on Him,” for some reason or other all his books and papers were taken from him and his imprisonment was made much stricter. He drew the curtains of his prison cell and sat in the dark. “When all the goods are sold,” he explained to the Lieutenant, “the shutters must be put up.”

His imprisonment lasted fifteen months and was ended only by his death. He suffered much from an old disease of the chest, “and was now grieved in the reins by reason of gravel and stone, and with the cramp that divers nights gripped his legs.” He told his daughter that again and again the pain was so great that he would have welcomed relief by death, yet nothing could break down his strong resolution.

There is hardly anything more touching in the world’s literature than the series of More’s last letters to his daughter. The later ones were often written with a stick of charcoal on a scrap of paper, since the king had confiscated his writing materials.

He is careful to judge no man; he will not even express his objections to the oath; if others can take it with a good conscience, let them do so. But as for himself, to take it would be a deadly offence against God, deserving of eternal damnation. He knows his own weakness, but prays himself and begs his loved ones to pray that God may strengthen him and not suffer him to fall away. His charity to his enemies, his utter resignation to God’s will, his deep humility, all mark the saint of God. We must find room for a few extracts. “I assure you, Margaret, on my faith, I never have prayed God to bring me hence nor deliver me from death, but referred all things whole unto His only pleasure, as to Him that seeth better what is best for me than myself doth. And never long I, since I came hither, to set my foot in mine own house, for any desire of or pleasure of my house: but gladly would I sometime somewhat talk with my friends, and specially my wife and you that pertain to my charge. But since that God otherwise disposeth, I commit you all wholly to His goodness.

Again “Surely, Meg, a fainter heart than thy frail father hath canst thou not have. And yet I verily trust in the great mercy of God that He shall of His goodness so stay me with His holy hand that He shall not finally suffer me to fall wretchedly from His favour. . . . And verily, my dear daughter, in this is my great comfort, that albeit I am of nature so shrinking from pain that I am almost afeard of a fillip, yet in all the agonies I have had, whereof . . . I have had neither small nor few . . I thank the mighty mercy of God I never in my mind intended to consent that I would. . . . do any such thing, as I should in mine own conscience . . think to be such as should damnably cast me in the displeasure ofGod.”

“Albeit, Margaret, that I wot well my lewdness hath been such that I know myself well worthy that God should let me slip, yet can I not but trust in His merciful goodness that . . if I shall suffer, His grace shall give me the strength to take it patiently, and peradventure somewhat gladly too . . . Mistrust Him, Meg, will I not, though I feel me faint . . . This wot I very well that without my fault He will not let me be lost . . . Therefore, mine own good daughter, never trouble thy mind for anything that ever shall hap me in this world. And I make me very sure that whatsoever that be, seem it never so bad in sight, it shall indeed be the best.”

And finally, for we must reluctantly come to an end, let us choose this delightful note:

“Mine own good daughter, Our Lord be thanked I am in good health of body, and in good quiet of mind: and of worldly things I no more desire than I have. I beseech Him make you all merry in the hope of heaven. And such things as I somewhat longed to talk with you all, concerning the world to come, Our Lord put them into your mind, as I trust He doth, and better too, by His Holy Spirit: who bless you and preserve you all.

“Written with a coal by your tender loving father, who in his poor prayers forgetteth none of you all, nor your babes, nor your nurses, nor your good husbands, shrewd wives, nor father’s shrewd wife neither, nor our other friends.

And thus fare ye heartily well for lack of paper.

THOMAS MORE, Knight.”

What a rebuttal of the calumny that those who love God are lacking in natural affection!

A new session of Parliament opened in November, 1534, and Acts were quickly passed conferring upon the king the title, “Only supreme head in earth of the Church of England,” and making it high treason to deprive him of this title. Here at last, in this Act of Supremacy, was a weapon ready to the king’s hand to encompass the judicial murder of Sir Thomas More. More than once Commissioners were sent to the Tower to examine him. He protested that he had never said one word against the statute, but that his conscience was his own, that he wished never more to meddle in princes” titles but to spend his time in preparation for death. Nothing further could they make him say. Brutally they replied that if he was not afraid to die why did he not speak out plainly against the statute? He made the noble answer, “I have not been a man of such holy living as I might be bold to offer myself to death, lest God, for my presumption, might suffer me to fall; and therefore, I put not myself forward, but draw back. Howbeit, if God draw me to it Himself, then trust I in His great mercy that He shall not fail to give me grace and strength.”

On May 4th, 1535 Margaret Roper again managed to get access to her father, and as they were standing together at the window of his cell, probably in the Bell Tower, they saw Richard Reynolds, a Brigettine monk, John Haile, vicar of Isleworth, and three Carthusian priors being led out to die as traitors under the new Act of Supremacy. They were the first-fruits of the golden harvest of the English Martyrs of the Reformation, the long line that extended through 150 years and embraced over 600 heroes. The day, May 4th, has been chosen as their feast day and may it ever be in honour!

Listen to More’s touching humility. “Lo, dost thou not see, Meg, that these blessed fathers be now as cheerfully going to their deaths as bridegrooms to their marriage? Wherefore, thereby thou mayest see, mine own good daughter, what a great difference there is between such as have in effect spent all their days in a strait and penitential and painful life religiously, and such as have in the world, like worldly wretches (as thy poor father hath done), consumed all their time in pleasure and ease licentiously.” (Four hours” sleep! Rising at 2.00 A.M.!! The massive volume of English Controversy!!! How wonderful is the humility of the saints!) “For God, considering their long-continued life in most sore and grievous penance, will no longer suffer them to remain here in this vale of misery, but speedily hence taketh them to the fruition of His everlasting Deity. Whereas thy silly father, Meg, that like a wicked caitiff hath passed forth the whole course of his miserable life most sinfully, God, thinking him not worthy so soon to come to that eternal felicity, leaveth him here still in this world further to be plagued and turmoiled with misery.”

But Henry VIII had not long to wait before finding one who if he could not induce More to commit himself, at any rate was ready to swear that he had, norhad More long to wait for the martyr’s crown which he so ardently desired. On June 12th, Richard Rich, the Solicitor-General, came to interview More in the Tower. He put various suppositions. “Could not Parliament make him king?” More agreed, and asked in return whether Parliament could decree that God did not exist. Rich scouted the idea as absurd, but put a case which he said was intermediate to these two extreme cases. “Could not Parliament make the king Head of the Church?” This question he afterwards asserted that More answered in the negative.

On July 1st the trial took place in Westminster Hall, where More had himself so often acted as supreme judge. The indictment is still extant and is of enormous length. It proceeds upon the Act of Supremacy and charges More with not replying when examined in the Tower by the king’s councillors, with corresponding in the Tower with Bishop Fisher and arranging to give similar answers, and with a direct denial to Mr. Rich of the power of the Parliament to give to the king the title of Supreme Head of the Church. More, for his evident weakness, was accommodated with a chair, and, in accordance with his resolution not to presume to offer himself for martyrdom, defended himself skilfully. Surely he could not be condemned for silence. Treason must be shown in word or deed and he had shown none. If his answers were similar to Fisher’s, it was because their sentiments were similar and how could this be treason? As to Mr. Rich’s evidence he uttered these solemn words: “If I were a man, my Lords, that did not regard an oath, I need not (as it is well known) in this place, at this time, nor in this case to stand as an accused person. And if this oath of yours, Mr. Rich, be true, then pray I that I may never see God in the face, which I would not say, were it otherwise, to win the whole world.” Then reciting exactly their conversation as it had taken place, he added: “In faith, Mr. Rich, I am sorrier for your perjury than for mine own peril.” Was it likely, he went on, that he would utter to Mr. Rich, who, he was sorry to say, was of very light reputation, the secret of his conscience which he had guarded so tenaciously from the king’s Council? There was no other witness to what Mr. Rich asserted, and even were it true, there was no evidence of malice such as was required by the Act of Supremacy.

Though Rich’s perjury must have been evident to the whole court, yet the verdict of “Guilty” was a foregone conclusion and More received it gladly. Now at length was he free to deliver his soul. “Seeing that I am condemned, and God knows how justly, for the discharge of my conscience, I will now speak freely.” He had studied the matter carefully for seven years and had never found in any approved writer that a layman could be Head of the Church. Moreover, he protested that one country could not make a law against the whole of Christendom of which it was itself a part, any more than the City of London could make a law against the rest of England. Thus he ended with a noble plea against the disruption of Christendom by schism: “I am not bound to conform my conscience to the council of one realm against the general council of Christendom.”

Then the Lord Chancellor pronounced the barbarous sentence which the law imposed upon traitors, that he should be hanged, drawn, and quartered. How Christlike was More’s reply! “As the blessed Apostle St Paul was present and consented to the death of St Stephen, and yet be they now both twain holy saints in heaven, so I verily trust and shall therefore right heartily pray, that though your Lordships have now in earth been judges to my condemnation, we may yet hereafter in heaven merrily all meet together to our everlasting salvation.”

The Constable of the Tower who led him back there was his very dear friend and could not restrain his tears. More comforted him : “Good Mr. Kingston, trouble not yourself but be of good cheer. For I will pray for you, and my good lady your wife, that we may meet in heaven together, where we shall be merry for ever and ever.”

A harder trial awaited him. His daughter Margaret met him at the Tower Wharf. We must give the sequel in Roper’s words: “As soon as she saw him, after his blessings on her knees reverently received, she, hasting towards, without consideration or care of herself, pressing in among the midst of the throng and company of the guard, that with halberds and bills went round about him, hastily ran to him, and there openly, in sight of them, embraced him, and took him about the neck and kissed him.” He comforted her as well as he could, but no sooner had she left him than she returned to his embrace, “like one that had forgotten herself, being all ravished with the entire love of her father.” Even the guards were moved to tears.

Ignorant when the summons might come, he spent the intervening days in prayer and penitential exercises. On July 5thhe wrote, with a charred stick, what proved to be his last letter to her. “Our Lord bless you, good daughter,” he begins, “and your good husband, and your little boy, and all yours, and all my children, and all my god-children and all our friends. He goes on to send messages to one after another of his family. Then, “I cumber you, good Margaret, much, but I would be sorry if it should be any longer than tomorrow, for it is St Thomas’s even and the utas” (octave) “of St Peter; and therefore tomorrow long I to go to God. It were a day very meet and convenient for me.

I never liked your manner towards me better than when you kissed me last; for I love when daughterly love and, dear charity hath no leisure to look to worldly courtesy. Farewell, my dear child, and pray for me, and I shall for you and all your friends, that we may merrilv meet in heaven.” As his parting gift he sent her the hair shirt of which, even in the Tower, he had not abandoned the use.

The next morning, Tuesday, July 6th, a message came that he was to die. “And so,” said More, “God help me, am I bounden to his Highness most of all, that it pleaseth him so shortly to rid me of the miseries of this wretched world; and therefore will I not fail earnestly to pray for His Grace both here and also in the world to come.”

An earlier message had come that the king, as a favour, had commuted the sentence to beheading. “God keep my friends from such favours,” he answered.

Now he walked slowly out of the fortress and up Tower Hill to the site of the scaffold. He was clothed in simple frieze, he was very pale and prematurely aged, his beard was long. He carried in his hand a little cross of wood to aid him to meditate on Christ’s Passion. A good woman offered him a cup of wine. He thanked her, but declined it. “Christ on Calvary,” he said, “had but gall and vinegar.” Another woman cried out that he had done her a great wrong when he was Chancellor. “Madam,” he replied, “I remember your case well, and if I had to give my decision again, it would be exactly the same as before.”

He dealt out blessings to the last. A man of Winchester who had long suffered grievous temptations to despair had been introduced by a friend to More and had received from him much helpful counsel. When upon More’s imprisonment he could no longer visit him his difficulties returned. Hearing that More was to die he hastened to the Tower and managed to speak to him on his last journey. “Do you know me, Sir Thomas?” he cried. “I pray you, for Our Lord’s sake, help me: I am as ill troubled as ever I was.” Sir Thomas replied: “I remember thee full well. Go thy ways in peace, and pray for me: and I will not fail to pray for thee.” So long as he lived the man of Winchester was never again troubled with these temptations.

Coming at length to the scaffold, he put his feet on the ladder, saying merrily to the Lieutenant, “See me safe up, I pray you. At my coming down let me shift for myself.” He asked the people’s prayers. “I have always been,” he said, “the faithful servant of the king, but first of all the faithful servant of God.” Was this not the counsel the king himself had given him?

He knelt down to say his favourite psalm, the Miserere, and then, his prayers finished, he got up to joke with his executioner. He gave him money, he embraced him and said, “Pluck up thy spirits, man, and be not afraid to do thy office. My neck is very short; take heed therefore thou strike not awry for saving of thy honesty.” He laid his head on the block, but even at the last moment his lightheartedness would not be denied. “One moment,” he cried, “let me move my beard. Pity that should be cut: that has not committed treason.”

And so, with a smile on his lips, the merry martyr went to his God. “A man may very well lose his head, yet come to no harm.”

A fortnight before, More’s friend, Blessed John Fisher, had won his crown, but whereas his body had been shamefully exposed the whole day upon the scaffold by order of the king and only at nightfall cast ignominiously into a grave, More’s body, by permission of the king, was carefully tended by his beloved Margaret. Henry, indeed, could hardly forget his former love for his Chancellor. It is recorded that when news was brought of the execution, the king rose from the table where he had been playing dice with Anne Boleyn, accused her of being the cause of More’s death, and left the room shedding bitter tears.

Margaret, then, had from early morning been visiting the City churches, giving alms and asking for prayers for her father. When the time for the burial came, she found she lacked some linen and neither she nor her maid had any money left. She sent her maid into a shop to ask for what was required, and as the latter was about to say to the shopkeeper that she had forgotten to bring her money, she opened her purse and there found the exact amount required.

The body was buried in the little chapel of St Peter in Chains within the precincts of the Tower, and by its side, either then or later, seems to have been laid the body of his friend and companion, Bishop Fisher. There is indeed some doubt whether there was not afterwards a removal to Chelsea, but probably the bodies still lie in the Tower, though unidentified, awaiting their glorious resurrection.

The head of the martyr was set upon London Bridge, where many ghastly heads of malefactors were placed upon pikes to strike terror into the beholders. With the help, however, of her friends, Margaret obtained possession of it from the officer and kept it during her life as a precious relic. The Ropers lived in Canterbury and possessed a vault in their parish church of St Dunstan. In that vault the skull still rests, the object of devout pilgrimage by Catholics and honoured even by those who do not share the beliefs for which Blessed Thomas More died.

He was beatified by Leo XIII on December 29th, 1886, together with Blessed John Fisher and many others of the English Martyrs.

In 1930 his cause, coupled with that of Blessed John Fisher, was “re-assumed,” i.e., reopened, with a view to the advancement of the joint cause to the final stage of Canonization. We conclude by asking the prayers of our readers that God may grant miracles, for nothing else is now lacking to that end.

********

Saint Vincent Pallotti

APOSTLE OF ROME, PIONEER OF CATHOLIC ACTION

INDEX

CANONIZATION OF SAINT VINCENT PALLOTTI

“Amongst the beauties of the new fervour which the celebration of the Ecumenical Council has awakened, We rejoice (in) . . . the canonization of Blessed Vincent Pallotti . . . He was a priest of most edifying life, who . . . (founded) the Society of the Catholic Apostolate, which gave the first impulse in Rome to Catholic Action properly so called.”

So spoke His Holiness Pope John XXIII on September 9th, 1962, in the course of an Address to Spiritual Directors of Seminaries. Vincent Pallotti was canonized on Sunday January 20th, 1963 in the Basilica of St. Paul. Those who know Saint Vincent for his world-wide vision, for his vital grasp of the world-wide mission of the Church, for his endeavours to mobilize the apostolic energies of the laity everywhere, will see the hand of Divine Providence in this that he was raised to the honours of the Altar in front of a great concourse of cardinals, bishops, priests, religious and laity that assisted in the solemnities of that day-amongst them several of his sons from the distant mission fields of North West Australia.

We hope that this small brochure will help you come to know this great lover of Christ and the ideals for which he lived. We hope still more that you may yourself catch something of his enthusiasm, generosity and love for Jesus and Mary and souls and be an apostle of Christ wherever you may be.

FR. JOHN HENNESSY, S.A.C

A RIOT

Through the Streets of Trastevere surge a crowd of angry men. They shout their grievances and their threats of violence as they go. Others run from their houses to join them. Brandishing cudgels and improvised weapons, they tramp on. The authorities are powerless-and they know it! There will be bloodshed before long.

Unseen, a figure darts down back streets. He stops at a door, raps sharply, urgently. The door opens. The messenger utters a few breathless words . . .

At a street junction the rioters are milling around in an ugly mood. It will take but the least spark to set their passions ablaze. Down one of the streets hurries a man in black cassock. He approaches the junction, someone sights him . . .

A murmer of recognition . . . heads jerk around . . . his name passes from mouth to mouth.

With quick movements the priest mounts the entrance steps of a building. He turns to face the crowd. His eyes sweep over them . . . eyes that are bright with vitality, eyes that compel attention. Men cease their shouting. They stand still, quiet and expectant.

Then his lips open. His clear ringing voice carries across the square. This man is the friend of the poor, the champion of the oppressed. They listen. Whatever he has to say is said from the depths of his heart, a heart that is sincere, a heart that wishes only their own good. His words are simple, reasonable, forceful. A calm descends upon their turbulent minds . . . the fire of passionate anger subsides, as under a cooling, refreshing stream.

There was no riot at Trastevere-there was no bloodshed after all. Those men went back to their homes quietly.

A man who can calm a crowd of angry riotous Italians is certainly of no mean calibre. Such is the man, the priest, the apostle, Vincent Pallotti.

BACKGROUND

Father Vincent Pallotti’s life and his ideal of the Catholic Apostolate must be seen together with the background of his times-a background of world upheaval. He was born on April 21st, 1795, in a Europe still overcast by the after-shadow of the French Revolution. He later saw Rome under the heel of the French Army and the Holy Father a prisoner of the impious Bonaparte. He saw the march of revolutionaries on Rome and the accompanying storm of civil commotion and religious persecution.

It was an era of instability, of political strife and intrigue. Making capital out of all this, the enemies of religion were able to do tremendous harm to the Church and its work. Both directly and indirectly Christ and His Kingdom was the object of a new and most diabolical attack. Father Vincent saw that there was a new mobilization of the enemies of God and man. He saw that the times demanded a new mobilization of Catholics-of Apostles. “Every Catholic an Apostle!”

Against this background we must understand the life and work of this modern Apostle. Against this background we must understand the passionate longings and the ideals that flamed in his heart and soul. Against this background we must understand his forming of the Society of the Catholic Apostolate.

And against the anarchy of his day we see the peace of a man who lives with God. Against the darkness of a new paganism we see one who holds aloft the brilliant light of Faith. Against the tide of unleashed passion, hatred and bloodshed, we see a man spending himself to the point of exhaustion, for the spiritual and temporal happiness of his fellow men-for the love of Our Lord, Jesus Christ.

HIS HOME AND PARENTS

The beginnings of that love go back to the truly Catholic home into which Vincent was born. That means a home where Christ is a positive influence in family life, a home where father and mother value their daily round of duties as their task from God, a home where the scale of values is the one learned from Christ Himself. Such was the home into which Peter and Mary Pallotti brought their children.

Peter Pallotti was a grocer; he owned three shops in various parts of Rome. He was a conscientious and capable man, and a prosperous one. But, he was not set upon amassing wealth; there’s no doubt he could have done so, had he cared to devote his energies and abilities that way. He was able to provide for his growing family; and outside it to assist many of those in need. His charity was well known and often sought.

He applied himself to business interests, as far as family responsibilities and his works of charity required. The rest of his time and energy he gave to his family and directly to Christ. He used to rise early and begin the day by assisting at two Masses, and at the end of business hours, would again return to his Eucharistic Lord . . . if possible to a church where the devotion of the Forty Hours was being held.

Yet it was the mother, Mary Magdalene Pallotti, who was the greater influence in forming the character of their children; and the best response she found in the third of her ten children, Vincent. It was from her that he learned his first lesson in charity, as he saw her kindness to the needy who came to their door, or saw her prepare a basket, and then accompany her on visits to the poor and sick. She was the one who first kindled the fire that would later become a mighty blaze in the future Apostle of Rome-his love for the Virgin Mother of God.

The Pallotti home had their Madonna shrine, their little altar to Mary; and to the Immaculate Virgin, Vincent and all the children were consecrated.

How often did Peter and Mary Pallotti seek strength at that shrine specially in those hours of grief when children so joyously received from God had to be all too soon surrendered. Only Vincent and three of his brothers reached adult age.

CHILDHOOD

Rome in the summer is very trying -hot, humid, enervating. All who can manage to do so seek some respite with a holiday away from the City. So it is today, so it has been for centuries.

Peter and Mary used to take their family out into the country where at least the evening would bring a cool refreshing breeze. The slopes of the surrounding hills were patterned with vineyards and purple with the ripening grapes. The boy Vincent was soon well known amongst the labourers and their children. He was often found giving the little ones a lesson in Catechism-and even the grown ups (who needed it just as much). He would have them say the Rosary with him too. But, it was not always so one-sided-he often brought them delicacies from the table, something he had gone without to give them.

His parents had become used to the generous nature of their son, but did not always approve of this indiscriminate charity. He was sometimes reproached by his father for his lack of prudence. On such occasions Vincent would receive the reproach in silence, or quietly say to his father that he thought the person to whom he gave the goods, was in greater need. One such occasion was when he had actually given away his bed. Another time he arrived at his aunt’s place in the country barefoot-he had given away his shoes on the way.

Boys and girls can find some consolation in this-that for years Vincent found his school work just too tough. He simply couldn’t master it at all. “Too bad” his teachers used to say, “Vincent’s a fine boy . . . but his school work!” and they would leave the conclusion unsaid. His mother however, found a solution-it is not copyright, so all you scholars have no hesitation in making use of it. She and the boy made a Novena of Prayer and Sacrifice to the Holy Ghost, the Spirit of Wisdom. The answer came in remarkable fashion. The following months saw Vincent mount from the bottom strata of his class to the top! The prizes were medals, and many were the prizes he won. However, he didn’t care to parade his success; he would take his medals to some favourite picture or statue of the Blessed Virgin and leave .them with her. If his parents knew of his prizes, it was through someone else. In his reticence he was simply imitating his parents-they were not accustomed to tell people of the things they did for the love of Jesus and Mary.

VOCATION

It was a great joy to Peter and Mary Pallotti (but no great surprise) when Vincent told them of his desire to become a priest. At the age of sixteen he wanted to join the Capuchins. He told his confessor of his wish, but was dissuaded by him from his choice. The priest considered that Vincent was not strong enough to stand up to the austerity of that order. The boy immediately acquiesced in his confessor’s decision, but still retained his ardent desire for the priesthood. With his father’s permission, he made a retreat in the Mission House of Monte Citorio. Then he entered the Roman College, beginning the long course of study in preparation for the priesthood.

Vincent was an outstanding student. He gained distinctions in all subjects, for example, Greek, Law, History and Languages, and took his degree in both Philosophy and Theology. As in earlier years, so also here he had nothing to say about his success.

Vincent was ordained a priest on 16th May, 1818, in the Lateran Basilica. It must have been an added joy to him that it took place in Mary’s own month. The following morning he celebrated his first Mass-it was the Feast of the Blessed Trinity.

Now that he was equipped with the powers of the priesthood, his love for Christ was quickly to expand into an untiring apostolate.

On the eve of his ordination he wrote a sentence that was to be the ideal and inspiration of his priestly life:

“Lord, let me die or love Thee infinitely!”

THE YOUNG PRIEST

In those days a young secular priest would usually have to wait some considerable time before there came a vacancy for an assistant in a parish. Instead of waiting he might take up a position in the administration of the Papal States; for at this time all the main administrative positions were entrusted to priests. Or a third possibility was-and this is what Fr. Vincent chose to do-to remain living at home and undertake any apostolic work approved of by his superiors.

So the young priest came to be chaplain to a boys’ club, and also spiritual director to a student confraternity. Before long he was called to assist at a retreat house for young men, and soon after at a second retreat house as well. At night he was often to be found at a home for old and destitute men, which was also a night shelter for men off the streets. Together with a layman he set about establishing night schools for working boys where they could learn reading and writing, as well as the elements of their Faith. (Don Bosco, the founder of the Salesians, was to do the same thing at Turin). For working girls he set up homes and hostels. There existed in Rome a large number of guilds for the various trades, but many of them no longer possessed any real vitality. Fr. Vincent endeavoured to get some of them going again, fully aware of the need among working men and the possibilities inherent in the guilds. He began with the shoemakers’ guild; these had a little church of their own near the Ponte Rotti. He went around to visit the shoemakers personally in their shops. Having got to know them it was not long before he had them making a retreat with him.

It can be seen how readily the young priest was able to combine idealism and a very down-to-earth appreciation of everyday needs. “The priest,” he said, must seek to be all things to all the people. Not only must he promote their spiritual good but their material welfare also, for the people expect the support and advice of the priest in all fields of action. He must use his moral ascendency to render the lives of the people more tolerable and more in conformity with human dignity. The poor and oppressed look instinctively to him against the violence and injustice of the powerful ones of this earth, and the people must not be disappointed. Moreover, experience shows that men will not observe conscientiously the Divine Law if they cannot satisfy the necessities of life. The person who is obliged to fight a losing battle against human misery loses his sense of orientation and finds it increasingly difficult to believe in the goodness of God. And then he will easily be deceived by the demagogues and allow himself to join the ranks of those unfortunates who live and die without Faith.” How faithful this young priest to the mind of the later Popes on the social problem.

TUTOR AT THE UNIVERSITY

To the many pastoral duties he had taken upon himself, Fr. Vincent added another which would have been quite enough on its own. This was the post of repetitor or special tutor at the Sapienza, at this time the university of Rome. His scholarly eminence as a student himself .had not been forgotten, nor his deep religious spirit. On both grounds students were drawn to him. It had become customary after a lecture for numbers of them to gather about him in a nearby square to discuss the matter of their professor’s discourse. The Rector of the University, observing the results of these discussions, transferred them to the University proper, and required all students of theology to take part in them. Thus Father Pallotti was obliged to assume leadership of what was called an academy. The Rector esteemed these discussions so highly that he would allow no one to receive the doctorate who could not produce a certificate of attendance at the academy. He continued these tutorials at the university for ten years while the less gifted students came to him for special assistance at his home.

WITH THE POOR

Scholarly though he was, Father Vincent had the happy knack of “adaptability.” In his sermons he had no time for such styles as are calculated to win admiration rather than souls. His one aim was to bring people to the knowledge and love of Christ crucified.’ And so the uneducated poor came to listen to him eagerly. He would often preach in one of the public squares of which Rome has so many, or in the working quarter of the Trastevere. The people would quickly gather about him. He understood them-and they him. At the conclusion he would invite them to the nearest church, and in this way many were brought back to God.

The tender concern for the poor that was so strong in Vincent as a boy now became a real fire blazing in the heart of the priest. He was a frequent caller on the well-to-do, and was never slow to plead for his poor. A Cardinal once said of him: “You can’t say no to Don Vincenzo! He kneels down, asks your blessing, and then speaks in such a way that you can’t possibly refuse him!”

There are still in existence about four hundred letters of Father Vincent written on behalf of his poor. Requests for work, clothing, food, medicine, financial aid, cancellation of debts-all this and so much more.

He availed to the utmost of the ordinary resources of Divine Providence. But when these failed him, he could with all confidence go further. He once asked a Duchess to assist a family that needed some money urgently. The good lady was quite willing to do so, but was unable to give him anything at that very moment-she just didn’t have it. “Would you come back later, Father?” “Very well,” Father Pallotti replied. “I’ll return on the Feast of St. Homobonus.” “When is that?” “Today!” “But I told you Father, I simply do not have anything just now.” “Have confidence in God, and try and find some. The family’s need is urgent. They must have some, and now! Go in obedience. Obedience can work miracles.” Reluctantly the Duchess went away, and as she expected found only a coin of little worth. She took it back however, and gave it to him. On falling into his hand, to her amazement, it multiplied into a handful of gold coins. Father Vincent forbade the astonished duchess to speak of the incident to any one.

CARE OF THE SICK

The sick, especially if poor as well, found in Father Vincent tender sympathy and comfort-and often too restoration to health. He saw Christ in the sick, so would spend himself to the utmost for their relief, spiritual and material. To a woman of whom the doctors had despaired he said simply: “Pray to the Madonna. She will cure you.” Scarcely had he left when the sick woman felt herself completely recovered. When the doctor called and heard of it he remarked at once: “Father Vincent must have been here.” Apparently this was no new experience for the doctor.

Upon entering a sick room Father Pallotti would first kneel and say a prayer. Then going to the bedside he would give the sufferer a picture of Our Lord or Our Lady to kiss. He would try to encourage the sick with words of trust and faith in the goodness of Our Loving Heavenly Father. Then he would hear the confession. But when the patient was unconscious, he would prolong his prayers, give his blessing, and ask that he be called the moment consciousness returned. He was called on one occasion to attend a man known to have led anything but an exemplary life. To the distress of his friends he had lost the power of speech and then consciousness. After his usual prayers, Father Vincent urged those around the bed to pray and have confidence, then departed promising to return after a short time. A few hours later the man recovered consciousness and the power of speech. Father Vincent was able to prepare him for his confession and restore him to God’s friendship in the interval before the man lost the power of speech again.

People soon began to realize that Father Pallotti had some supernatural intuition as to the outcome of an illness. They noticed that when he said: “Let us accept the will of God,” the patient would not recover. When he said: “Let us recommend him to the Blessed Virgin” the sick person was always restored to health.

AMONG THE SOLDIERS

The “Union of St. Paul” was a society of Rome aimed at fostering the spiritual and temporal welfare of soldiers. Father Vincent became a member. His work for the troops quickly won from them a ready response and appreciation. Among his letters are to be found numbers written on behalf of his soldiers or received from them. In one he is trying to obtain a furlough for a soldier; in another he begs for mitigation of punishment; in another he seeks fair dealing for someone unjustly accused; in another he intercedes for one of the military police who went home without leave to visit his sick mother. “The reason was his love for his mother,” he writes. “Such love is to be commended. He is a good lad. He has been punished enough already. Do what you can to have him set free.”

Each year in preparation for Easter it had been the custom to give the retreat to all the army corps gathered together in one of the largest churches in Rome. Father Vincent enlisted the aid of a number of priests to bring the spiritual exercises closer to the men. His standing with the military authorities was such that he was able to have one section at a time free from duty so that these men could devote their time wholly and exclusively to the retreat. Each section would be taken in turn for a retreat until the entire body of troops was included.

He succeeded too in introducing to the barracks special May devotions. The men had their May altar and saw to it that it was fittingly adorned with flowers and candles.

The soldiers came to appreciate their chaplain still more at the military hospital. A visitor to the hospital was amazed at seeing the eagerness and delight with which the sick welcomed the priest, while back at the barracks it was quite common for the guard to give him military honours as he passed by.

SOULS IN NEED

Gradually it became known that Father Pallotti had an extraordinary influence on sinners. He was able to win over even the most stubborn. In his efforts to bring them back to Christ, he was ready to resort to unusual means if needed. Visiting the hospital one day the nurse asked him to see what he could do with a certain patient, but warning the priest that the man had a violent temper, a lurid tongue, both of which he was ready to use on any priest that came near him. Father Pallotti noted the bed and then went along to some of the other patients some distance away. Keeping his eye on the formidable one he worked his way unobtrusively nearer as he went from patient to patient. At last he was at the next bed and the man’s eyes were closed. Now was the opportunity! Before the man realized it Father Pallotti was at his side begging him to make his peace with God. The man let out a lurid flow-but fully expecting that to happen, the priest was equal to the occasion. He had with him some biscuits for the patients, and the moment that mouth opened he very dexterously slipped one in. While the man, purple with rage, was getting rid of the biscuit swallowing it, Father Vincent did the talking: At last the fellow had cleared his throat and at once opened his mouth to give the priest another blast but he was beaten to it again and found himself all clogged up with biscuit. Well, the battle went on until the fellow was exhausted and the priest the victor.

Father Pallotti was called one day to a house where a one-time revolutionary was dying. He was bitter and would have nothing to do with any priest. To make sure that none of his family tried to bring one in, he kept his pistol under his pillow threatening to put a bullet into any priest who should venture near him. Father Pallotti had a plan. But it was necessary to wait till evening when the light was failing. Then taking a shawl he shuffled in like an old lady keeping to the shadow as much as possible. One of the household informed the dying trooper: “One of my friends has offered to stay with you during the night in case you need anything.” Then with considerable misgiving withdrew, very fearful as to what the night might bring. Watching for his opportunity Father Vincent quietly moved across to the bed, slipped his little Madonna picture under the pillow, putting the man and his pistol in her capable hands. Then back in the shadows of the corner of the room he prayed with all his heart. Eventually he threw off the shawl moved across to the bed and let the man see who he was. The shock of it destroyed all the barriers. Next morning the family found the man, a crucifix in his hand, the priest at his side. He received Holy Viaticum shortly after, Father Pallotti remaining with him until he died.

THE GROWTH OF AN IDEA

In these few pages we have covered an apostolate as it developed over the first fifteen years of Father Vincent’s priesthood. And he was continually finding new opportunities to work for souls. His was an active, dynamic spirit- but his activity was not just a merely natural urge to be up and doing, which is at times mistaken for apostolate. His activity was genuine, the outflow of a heart that is aflame with love for Christ, Mary and souls.

But note well that now others have caught this flame. Around him there has gathered a group of priests and lay people who inspired by this apostle join him in his labours. There was no preconceived idea about this-simply the natural spreading of a flame. Over the years he had made wide contacts, the noble, the lowly, rich and poor, educated and illiterate, men in the professions and workers. More and more of these men and women were being drawn to the ideal of sharing with Christ and Mary the task of winning souls to God. And the ominous situation of the time was making it imperative that that ideal become the very life of every Catholic.

For years Italy had been a fertile ground for the growing menace of anti-religious forces, particularly in the form of secret societies. Fr. Pallotti came to know only too well the obstructions being placed in the way of the work of the Church. He firmly believed, and events proved him all too correct, that the situation was going to worsen as time went on. The apostolate of the Church was going to be hampered more and more. The powers of evil were mounting a fresh attack against the Kingdom of Christ.

It was urgently necessary that Catholics themselves become aware of their responsibility for the cause of Christ—and not to imagine that to be the exclusive responsibility of the priest. The needs of his time and the experience of these fifteen years of intense apostolate had given birth to a great yearning in his heart, to a great ideal. He saw the immense potential for the apostolate in the layman lying unused. He had himself been drawing on this source more and more with the years. He felt the call of Christ in his heart, and becoming ever more insistent, that he should strive to develop that potential . . . strive to inspire each Catholic man and woman to become not only a possessor of the Faith, but a bearer of it to the world in which each moved-the worker in his factory, the farmer in his countryside, the clerk in his office, the mother in her home and among her neighbours, the professor in his university, the doctor, the teacher, the lawyer, in their professions, the young boy and girl in their circle of acquaintances.

Though he did not see how to set about the realization of this ideal, the ideal itself became clear and strong -the mobilization of all possible forces of the apostolate, the laity joining with the priest in the winning of souls to Christ. Every one fulfilling his and her part. A universal (that is, of everyone) or “Catholic Apostolate!” In a word: “Every Catholic an Apostle!”

FOUNDER OF THE SOCIETY OF THE CATHOLIC APOSTOLATE

We have seen the manifold activities of Fr. Pallotti over the years and his wide contacts with people of every condition. The natural consequence was that a number of his fellow priests of Rome and also laymen formed a close association with him. They were bound together solely by the ideal they shared, the apostolate. Humanly speaking it was almost incidental and by force of circumstances that this group became a consolidated unit, the nucleus of the Society of the Catholic Apostolate.

One of their fields of interest was the foreign missions. In the course of their activities they decided to assist missionaries and converts in the East by having 10,000 copies of St. . Alphonsus Ligouri’s book “Eternal Principles,” printed in Arabic. The cost was estimated at about £200-a considerable sum for the group. One of their number, James Salvati, a merchant, was commissioned to raise the money and direct the printing.

Salvati was far from happy about his commission. He had had tough assignments from Fr. Vincent before, but this, he felt, capped the lot! He hadn’t a hope. On his way home from the meeting he decided not to approach anybody at all for contributions, and then to tell Father and the others that he had had no success. But almost as quickly he realized that his chances of getting away with such a story with Fr. Pallotti were nil! So resigned to the inevitable he went to call on a grocer. He explained the project; then mustering up all his courage he asked straight out:

“Can you give us £200?” The man received quite a shock! No! He couldn’t!

Then it was Salvati’s turn to get a shock.

“I can give you only £50.”

Next he called on a baker and again came away with £50. With new spirit Salvati went ahead making more calls; before long he had over and above the required amount. Rather shame-facedly he recalled the parting words of the priest: “Go. In the name of the Crucified you will find all that you need.”

Now that the group handled a fund, they saw the necessity of having guarantees to show that the fund was rightly expended, and the necessity of existing as a society with ecclesiastical approval. Petitions for approbation were submitted to the Cardinal Vicar, to the Vicegerent of Rome, and finally to the Pope. The representative of the Holy Father, Cardinal Vicar Odescalchi, immediately gave his approval. This was 4th April, 1835. Three months later, 11th July, His Holiness Pope Gregory XVI, sent his blessing to Fr. Pallotti and the Society, writing:

“A thousand blessings to the Society of the Catholic Apostolate and to all the works of piety and zeal which it may undertake.”

From the very beginning the Society was placed under the protection of Mary, Queen of Apostles. Fr. Pallotti constantly held before his fellow apostles the picture of Pentecost. There they saw how a group of bewildered and timid men were transformed into a mighty force for the Kingdom of Christ. They had gathered around Mary, she upon whom the Holy Spirit had descended already at Nazareth. At Pentecost He came once again, while they “were together with Mary, the Mother of Jesus.’ Although she did not share in the priesthood of her Son, as they did, nevertheless none could compare with her and the part she played in the salvation of souls. She was the living argument for the lay apostolate, and its best example. Therefore to her, Queen of Apostles, Fr. Pallotti and his associates would have their little Society dedicated.

GROWTH AND DEVELOPMENT

This new Society (SAC) was not a religious order, as is obvious from the fact that there were no special religious bonds and that its members comprised priests, religious and lay people. It was open to any Catholic and the only condition was willingness to work for souls. After 1836 members were divided according to the manner of their apostolate:

1. apostolic workers: all those who work directly for the salvation of souls.

2. spiritual co-operators: all those who contribute to the works of the SAC by their prayers and sacrifices.

3. temporal co-operators: all those who help by their professional services, manual work, by goods, money and other material means.

In 1837 in the first group, apostolic workers, an important development took place. Up to this time there had been no question of these members dedicating their lives exclusively to the SAC, but only in as much as other duties allowed.

Nor was there question of any of them living in community; in fact religious living in their own communities were still able to be members of the society. But now a project came up that required some members to be wholly dedicated to the SAC-this was a plan to establish a missionary college. Several priest-members of the first group formed themselves into a community with Fr. Pallotti; later lay members joined them as brothers. This community came to be the central and energising part of the whole society.

THE SAC IS DISSOLVED

There is surely hardly any Catholic today who does not know of the work of Pauline Jaricot, her foundation at Lyons of the Society for the Propagation of the Faith. On one occasion when she was at Rome she met Fr. Pallotti and they discussed her plans. She founded this society in 1819, the purpose of which was to raise funds for the foreign missions. In 1835, the year of the SAC’s birth, there was no branch of the French society in Rome. In 1837 Pope Gregory XVI authorized its introduction into the Eternal City, leaving the matter in the hands of the Cardinal Prefect of the Congregation of the Propaganda (the Holy Father’s governing body for missionary regions.) The Cardinal, after discussion with Fr. Vincent, considered that it would be superfluous to establish a branch of the Lyons society in Rome, since its purpose was being fulfilled already by one of the functions of the third section of the SAC. However in order to carry out the authorization of the Holy Father and yet avoid needless duplication, he decided to combine the Lyons society with the third section of the SAC. It would form a distinct unit within this section, and all funds contributed by its members would be forwarded to the Congregation of the Propaganda.

Authorities at Lyons immediately protested. They objected to the Pope that despite his official approval the society had not yet been introduced into Rome and that the SAC, with its universal pretentions was a danger for the Church. Moreover, it was a useless duplicate of a society already established in 1819.

On July 30th, 1838, Fr. Pallotti was conducting a meeting for the election of office bearers for a new parish branch of the Society of the Propagation of the Faith. Proceedings were interrupted by the arrival of the secretary of the Propaganda. He bore an important letter for Fr. Pallotti. The priest opened it to read the decree of dissolution of the SAC. The title of “Catholic Apostolate,” moreover, so he read, belonged solely to the Pope; and the SAC was superfluous because the same work was being done by the Lyon’s Society for the Propagation of the Faith.

Sick at heart though he was, no word escaped his lips. He remained with bowed head for a space, then continued with the setting up of the branch of the Lyons Society.

A Father Togni present on the occasion said later:

“I always thought Fr. Vincent was a saint. Now I am fully convinced!”

“ALL THIS WE DID NOT KNOW”

Fr. Pallotti felt sure there was a serious misunderstanding at the back of these events. In a letter to the Holy Father he set out the nature of the SAC. Its aim was far more comprehensive than the collecting of funds for the missions nor was even its mission aid programme of a financial kind only. While this was inclusive it was by no means its principal aim. The specific character of the SAC was the enkindling of that fire of love, the apostolate, in the heart of each Catholic. This love would find expression in many ways, chiefly according to the three sections outlined above. With regard to the third, the temporal co-operators, there was indeed one part of its work that did coincide with the Lyons society, the collection of funds for the foreign missions; but in fact its scope was far wider.

On reading Fr. Pallotti’s letter, the Holy Father exclaimed: “All this We did not know!” The decree of dissolution was withheld.

It had been a heavy cross. Yet Fr. Vincent let no personal feeling enter into the matter; he was still ready to promote the interests of the Lyons society, as in fact he did. With these events in mind he wrote several years later that there had been some who, not understanding the true nature of the SAC, had attacked it so seriously that at one stage it seemed to bear the marks of death. Yet this, he said, but served to make it like to the Crucified-as has happened often enough with other religious works and foundations in the course of history.

The meeting of Fr. Pallotti and Pauline Jaricot is told in L’Album, a Roman news publication of 1850, in an article by Fr. Proia, a former classmate of Fr. Pallotti at the Sapienza University. He tells of the later’s enthusiasm for her work and of his constructive ideas. Fr. Pallotti was particularly urging that Rome instead of Lyons become the centre of a world wide organization such as the then proposed society. Pauline Jaricot too, like Vincent Pallotti and countless others, was to know the pain of the cross, worry and suffering, that falls to the lot of those who follow Christ with great love. The Curé of Ars could say of her: “I know someone who understands how to accept the Cross, a heavy Cross, and how to bear it with love! It is Mademoiselle Jaricot.”

AT CAMALDOLI

In June of 1839 Fr. Pallotti gave evidence of seriously failing health. He was bidden by the Holy Father spend three months in rest and quiet at the monastery of Camaldoli in the Alban hills. The Holy Father even promised to pay him a visit there-a promise which, to the great confusion of the priest, was shortly after fulfilled to the letter!

He was well known to the monks there and to the people of those parts. He was not long in the monastery before the country-folk got to know about it. That was the end of his temporary retirement! Soon there were growing numbers seeking him for help, spiritual advice and for confession. The three-fold purpose of his visit to the monastery-physical and spiritual renewal, and the preparation of a clear exposition of the nature of the SAC to avoid further misunderstanding was fast slipping out of sight.

At this point Fr. Vincent’s spiritual director in Rome came to know of this . . . and he put an end to it. He forbade the priest his external activity and obliged him to confine himself to the purposes of his stay at Camaldoli. Fr. Pallotti could never of himself have refused any who should seek him. However he always looked upon his spiritual director as God’s instrument through whom He worked and manifested His will-so it was clear to him what God wished him to do. This period marked a further deepening and growth in Vincent’s spiritual life. God had prepared new graces for this heart so aflame with love for Him and for souls-graces which in those days of silence and prayer his heart opened wide to receive.

Then Rome was calling him again. Rome, with its countless needs, souls in danger, hours in the confessional, retreats, care of the sick, the poor, the guilds, the working lads and their night schools, the orphanages he had established together with the SAC Sisters he had founded, the manifold works of the SAC and its own little community. A further span of nine years lay before him; but during this time black storm clouds were gathering. Europe was soon to be plunged into the Year of Revolutions, 1848-and Rome itself was to be one of the storm centres.

REVOLUTION

Italy at this time was divided into four parts-the Papal States and the three states under Austria, Sardinia and the Bourbons of Naples and Sicily. Of these, Austria was the dominant power. Sardinia and the Papal States were thus the only extensive Italian territories not under foreign domination.

The nationalist movement for a united Italy had at first ardent Catholic supporters who cherished a hope that the Papacy would declare for it. At one time the suggestion was made that the Pope should become the head of a federation of liberated Italian principalities. It met however with the fundamental objection that by doing so he would stultify the whole object of the Papal States by identifying the Papacy with one of the nations in the eyes of the world.

Besides this, the movement was largely in the grip of men whose hatred of everything Catholic stamped them as archenemies of the Church.

The Pope decided against intervention.

That gave the radicals the chance to swing the movement directly and violently against the Papacy and the Church. Then came the defeat of the nationalist army by the Austrians at Custozza. Rome was thrown into turmoil, seething with the tension of impending revolution. The situation growing daily more menacing, the Pope as a last resort summoned prime minister Rossi. Fr. Pallotti learned that an attempt on Rossi’s life was planned on the occasion of a forthcoming public address. Rossi received several warnings through the priest, but ignored them. The subsequent assassination as he was entering Parliament House touched off the uprising. The first shots were fired upon the Swiss Papal Guard. A new republican government was set up, the Church subjected to open hostilities, the Holy Father restricted to his residence. Among the very few who had the courage to visit him there was Fr. Pallotti. Concealing his identity and with the assistance of the French and Bavarian embassies, the Holy Father escaped to Gaeta, where the King of Naples sheltered him.

Violent persecution now broke out and it became unsafe for a priest to show himself on the streets. Fr. Vincent carried on as best he could, but the work was becoming more and more impossible every day. On one occasion he was fired on, but somehow managed to escape harm. He became a marked man. The Irish College he had visited so often now offered to shelter him; there at the bidding of the Holy Father he went into hiding. The revolutionaries got wind of his whereabouts and raided the college. Somehow they failed to discover him.

By the middle of 1849 the tide had turned against the revolutionaries and they were fighting desperately to retain their hold on Rome. Road blocks were thrown up throughout the city; the republicans were determined to fight street by street. But they continued to lose ground. They saw there was nothing left but to escape as best they might. As a last act of hatred they massacred some twenty priests and laymen, then fled. On 2nd July the French army occupied Rome and the Pope was able to return.

LAST ACT OF CHARITY

Fr. Vincent was anxious to return to his work. The aftermath of the revolution meant only the greater need of his people. The French army could restore external order certainly, but the inner turmoil of hearts and souls still remained to be quieted. “What are we waiting for?” he wrote to Cardinal Lambruschini. “The incredible speed with which the sons of darkness have worked makes it necessary that the sons of light do as much for good!”

Back in Rome he was soon carrying out his former exhausting round of toil. But before long he had to admit to himself that the labours and anxieties of the past few years had sapped him of his strength far more than he had realized. Work that he had always attended to he was now forced to leave to others. Nevertheless he soon became the familiar figure once again hurrying about on his errands of mercy, ministering to the sick and dying, and together with his associates, confreres and lay-folk, bringing to life once again their former labours for souls. And so half a year went by.

January 1850 brought a particularly severe winter. Fr. Pallotti and his friends called at many a door seeking assistance for the poor and entered many a dwelling bringing relief. One evening whilst hearing confessions he noticed a penitent trembling with the cold. The confession finished, Fr. Vincent took off his cloak and insisted on the man taking it. Then he went back to the icy confessional. This act of charity brought him to his deathbed.

Next morning it was clear that he had caught a chill. However he carried on his work as usual. Later that day while visiting his old friend, James Salvati, he was taken ill and was brought back home to his confreres in a carriage. A doctor was called; he diagnosed pleurisy and ordered Vincent to bed. It was 16th January.

Years before, Fr. Vincent had shown a small prayer book to his close friend and associate, Fr. Vaccari. “When I am in my last illness I want you to read to me from this book,” he had told him. He had never spoken of the matter since. But now he did. “It is time now, Father. Would you get that prayer book please?”

The news of his illness spread like wildfire. The priests and brothers were attending to callers and inquiries throughout the day. In the church. alongside there was a constant stream of people praying for his recovery. But Vincent knew that these days were his last.

He had them bring a statue of Our Lady, his Mother and Queen of Apostles, and one of St. Joseph to his room and place them alongside the large crucifix there, so that he might be able to see them from his bed. His sufferings were severe, but no word of complaint escaped him-only gratitude to all who assisted him and continual consideration lest he cause them too much trouble. Selfless on his deathbed as in life he bore his illness with patience and resignation to the will of God. He gave ready obedience to the wishes of the Father Superior and the doctor. He himself wished to receive Holy Communion fasting; but when the doctor insisted that he receive the Blessed Sacrament as Viaticum and not fasting, he submitted at once. So also regarding the treatment prescribed. He was bled eight times. Leeches were applied and plasters. Everything he bore in patience and offered up to God in a spirit of reparation and for souls.

“LET ME GO WHERE GOD WANTS ME”

On the evening of Sunday 19th January, he received Extreme Unction, the sacrament being administered by Fr. Vaccari. Those assisting at his bedside begged his blessing upon their Society, for they were distressed at the thought of its future without him. Fr. Vincent laid their petition before His Divine Master: “My Jesus, a blessing for the whole Society. A blessing of goodness. A blessing of wisdom. A blessing of strength.” Then turning to them he added: “And now all pray for me that I may die a happy death and go to praise Our Divine Lord. This I will owe only to the pure mercy of God. For our works are nothing.” He held a small crucifix in his hands; then pressing it to his lips he exclaimed: “Praised be Jesus and Mary!”

One of the priests asked him:

“Father Vincent, what will happen to the Society?”

“This Society will be blessed. And I say this not only with confidence, but with certainty.”

But two days remained to him. He spoke little. Most of the time he was absorbed in prayer. Fr. Vaccari hardly left the bedside and was inconsolable at the imminent loss of his friend and leader. Once again on the Tuesday evening he begged him:

“Father Vincent, ask God for one more year of earthly life. Ask it for the good of the Society. It is still small and weak. We need you, Father! Stay a little longer!”

The dying priest turned his eyes to his friend; slowly but earnestly he besought him:

“Of your charity, let me go, where God wants me.”

Too overcome to reply by word, Fr. Vaccari in grief slowly nodded his assent. Vincent smiled with satisfaction. For he wished even to .die in obedience. These were his last words. Fifteen minutes later, as the Blessing for the moment of death was being given, he quietly breathed his last.

It was 9.45 of the evening of 22nd January, 1850.

CANONIZATION

FIRST MIRACLE

On Sunday 20th January, 1963, the Holy Father, Pope John XXIII, proclaimed to the world the canonization of Saint Vincent Pallotti. The people of Rome had spoken the truth when at his death they had carried the sad news all over the city with: “The saint is dead!” This solemnity followed that of his Beatification after a space of thirteen years; he was beatified by Pope Pius XII early in the Holy Year 1950 on January 22nd.’ the very centenary of Vincent’s death.

In the process of Canonization (as also of Beatification) the Church looks for the hand of God as divine approval by the occurrence of two miracles. The first of these took place on February 2nd, 1951-the cure of an Italian farmer who was at the point of death, suffering from a tumor on the neck. On the morning of January 31st, Angelo Balzarini noticed a small abcess on the side of his neck. He did not consider it of any importance and set about his work on the farm. During the day, however, he began to feel ill. The swelling was getting larger and he felt feverish. In the late afternoon he returned home and went to bed. The same evening the doctor attended him. The patient’s condition continued to grow worse. The swelling increased and extended towards the chest. He was in great pain, high fever and delirium. A second doctor was summoned. The deterioration continued till by midday February 2nd his death was expected at any moment. That afternoon a relic of Vincent Pallotti was laid upon Angelo’s neck. Shortly after this the miracle occurred and Balzarini regained consciousness. This is how he himself later related the event: “All of a sudden I experienced a refreshing sensation on the neck and chest and I awoke. I understood that I was not going to die because my head felt clear and I did not feel ill. I asked my wife to remove the bandage. I asked for something to eat and I ate with a good appetite.” The doctor stated later: “I was stunned!”

SECOND MIRACLE

The second miracle approved for canonization occurred on December 23rd, 1950. It was the cure of Father Adalbert Turowski, who at the time was Superior General of the Society founded by Vincent Pallotti. On the preceeding December 19th. Father Turowski underwent an operation upon the liver. The doctor expressed his grave fears of post-operative complications. These fears proved to be only too well founded. His patient fell into a state of high fever and there were signs of heart failure. By midday December 23rd, everyone was convinced that death was imminent. Father Turowski was unconscious, his body cold and purple, the pulse imperceptible. A novena to Vincent Pallotti was concluded the same day. Then at 9.30 P.M. the miracle occurred. The doctor himself was there with his patient at the time and described what happened.

“I had remained with the patient to await the moment of death. Then to my great surprise, it was about 9.30 P.M., the patient stopped being restless, grew calm and the colour began returning to his face. The breathing became less rapid and deeper; the pulse became stronger and almost regular and the eyes started to regain their vitality. Shortly after that he fell into a sound sleep. Around 10 P.M. I left the hospital and returned about 12.30 A.M. I could see that the pulse had greatly improved; the breathing was normal and the patient’s temperature had dropped. He continued to sleep until 2.15 A.M. I returned to his room to find him fully conscious; he told me he felt well and readily, answered all the questions put to him.” Speaking of the change which occurred at 9.30 P.M. the doctor said: “Everything happened within five minutes, so much so that you could speak of a complete reversal of the clinical condition of the patient . . . In the light of medical science I cannot give an explanation of such a sudden and definite cure.”

THE POPES SPEAK

VINCENT PALLOTTI AND THE LAY APOSTOLATE

In his own day Vincent Pallotti was subjected to strong criticism and attack because of his conception of the lay apostolate. This is quite unthinkable today. The Popes themselves are constantly teaching and urging the lay apostolate. And the Popes of our own time in particular have made a point of singling out Vincent Pallotti as a “pioneer and forerunner” and “model” in the work of the lay apostolate.

In the introduction we read the words of our present Holy Father, John XXIII. Let us conclude with those of his predecessors, Pope Pius XII and Pope Pius XI.

Just prior to the Beatification Pope Pius XII wrote to the Superior General of the Society of the Catholic Apostolate concerning its founder: “To this Society he left as an inheritance his achievements and his hopes. This meant the dedication of his followers to the work of the formation of the clergy . . . the recall of Christian peoples . . . to the narrow path of virtue; the propagation of the faith among pagan peoples. . . . Finally it meant something that is very necessary, particularly in our times, namely, that they should unite the laity, to work under, and in co-operation with the Hierarchy. In this latter, as you well know, Vincent Pallotti should be considered as a forerunner.” (December 8th, 1949.)

On the occasion of a decree concerning the sanctity of Vincent Pallotti, January 24th, 1932, Pope Pius XI, the Pope of Catholic Action, declared: “It is at this very time that we are privileged to witness the glorification of a priest who foresaw the thing and the name when he founded the Society of the Catholic Apostolate, which in its essence is the same as Catholic Action, to wit: Lay Apostolate under the guidance of the Apostolate of the Church. Catholic Action everywhere certainly will not miss such a wonderful chance to thank Divine Providence for the new protector and the new model.”

“EVERY CATHOLIC AN APOSTLE”

Imprimi potest:

W. SILVESTER, S.A.C

Regional.

Nihil Obstat:

BERNARD O’CONNOR, Diocesan Censor.

Imprimatur:

@ DANIEL MANNIX,

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis. 7th January, 1963.

Saint Vincent Strambi, C.P

1745–1824

OSMUND THORPE, C. P

INDEX

I

Among the servants of God whose Canonization gladdened the Church in the Jubilee Year, 1950, was a Passionist Bishop, whose name, although it is as yet little known in Australia, has been almost a household word in Central Italy. The life of this heroic champion of the Faith is full of lessons for us all, but one stands out in bold relief-his unswerving loyalty to the Holy See in time of persecution. In defence of its rights, he suffered six years of exile, and finally gave up his life that a Pope might not die.

Vincent Strambi was born on January 1st, 1745, at Civitavecchia, a historic seaport town fifty miles north-west of Rome. Of four children, he was the youngest and the only one that survived early childhood, and thus he became heir to all the care and attention of undivided affection. His heredity and environment were strongly on the side of sanctity. Though his parents were considered wealthy in a town that was at the height of its prosperity, they were richer far in holiness of life, in virtue and good works. His father, who was a chemist, was a member of the Holy Name Society and took a very active part in all parochial affairs.

Vincent grew into a tall, comely boy, unspoiled by all the care lavished upon him. Unfortunately, we are told little of his boyhood beyond that he served Mass daily, and when he had grown old enough, taught catechism in the parish church. The silence of the official Processes of his Beatification and Canonization, leaves us to infer that he was in every way just like any other boy who is blessed with pious parents and a holy home. One trait of his character at this time is, however, mentioned in some detail-perhaps because it is a trait seldom found in thoughtless youth-his extraordinary compassion for the poor. He was again and again known to come home from school without some article of clothing with which he had enriched some passing beggar. Sometimes it was his boots; sometimes his hat or jacket. His parents, being well able to afford these indiscreet acts, encouraged him in every way, and often stimulated his zeal by making him the channel of their charities.

The erection of little altars and the imitation in secret of the ceremonies he had witnessed in church were among the first signs that Vincent gave of a vocation to the priesthood. Strange and Inconsistent as it may seem, his parents gave him no encouragement whatever, and were deeply distressed when, at fourteen years of age, he asked them to send him to the preparatory seminary at Montefiascone. He was, of course, their only child and allowance has to be made for their reluctance to hand on to strangers the thriving business they had built up in Civitavecchia. But Christian self-sacrifice won in the end. They consented and later on even allowed him to go to Rome, where he won a lasting reputation for sanctity and learning. As the years rolled by they grew more and more resigned to his being a secular priest, though from time to time they made serious efforts to influence him to marry.

II

Vincent was ordained deacon on March 14th, 1767, and was immediately appointed Rector of the Seminary at Bagnorea. It was an unusual honour to bestow on one not yet a priest. He carried out his duties so efficiently and manifested such wisdom that In spite of his being not yet twenty-three years of age he was told to prepare himself for the reception of the priesthood.

The final stage of preparation was a spiritual retreat made at the Passionist Monastery at Vetralla. Divine Providence had so arranged things that St. Paul of the Cross, the Founder of the Passionists, was visiting the monastery at this particular time. He was a man whose imposing stature and fine appearance exercised a natural sway over all who met him. He had in addition a personality that is best described as lovable. He had a strong character to be sure, but so tempered by imitation of Christ in His Passion that mildness was its predominant feature. Those who knew him intimately used to refer to him as “la mamma della misericordia,” an intranslateable phrase whose sense is nevertheless at once obvious.

It was not the first time Vincent had seen St. Paul of the Cross, but never before had he come under his direct influence and that of his holy companions. Once again Vincent’s mind became occupied with an idea he had more or less definitely discarded, the idea of breaking his remaining ties with the world and entering a Religious Order. Previously he had gone so far as to ask the Capuchins in Civitavecchia to receive him among them, but not wishing to run the risk of offending his parents they refused. He had then turned to the Vincentians or Lazzarists, as they are known in Italy. They, too, made excuses. They pointed out to him that his health would not stand the strain of the religious life. It certainly looked as if Divine Providence was siding with his parents.

When Vincent broached the subject of his being a Passionist to St. Paul of the Cross he knew at once that his parents” opposition and his own frail appearance still weighed heavily against him. St. Paul was adamant. Vincent was to think no more about the matter; it was impossible. But this time Vincent did not accept refusal. He argued and pleaded day by day until at length St. Paul gave way. Well, then, yes, he would admit him. And so everything was arranged. On December 18th, 1767, Vincent left the monastery at Vetralla and on the following day was ordained priest.

No doubt, one of Vincent’s first actions was to acquaint Bishop Aluffi of Bag norea with the decision he had made and to obtain whatever permissions were required. The Bishop was a wise and prudent man. Knowing that Vincent had a talent for public speaking-when he was in Rome studying under Father Luigi Bonglochi, a celebrated professor of sacred eloquence, he had made a name for himself-and that possibly one of his motives in wanting to become a Passionist was to have an opportunity of utilizing this talent for the good of souls, he appointed him to preach a course of Lenten sermons in the country round Vetriolo. The experiment was decisive. Vincent was more than a success; he was spoken of everywhere as a great orator. To be a preacher of missions to the people was clearly his vocation. However much the Bishop regretted his leaving the diocese, he put no obstacle in his way. There remained only the larger difficulty of his parents” consent.

III

Great was the consternation when Vincent announced to his parents his intention of becoming a Passionist. The Congregation of the Passion was then in its infancy, and the austerities which marked its inception, and which were later mitigated by the Founder himself, were still in existence. The religious kept a perpetual fast and abstinence, and went barefooted and bareheaded even in the depth of winter.

It was a prospect that made many a stout heart quail. His father, utterly overcome with grief, besought him to have pity on his parents” old age, and not to break their hearts. He told him that a year of such a life meant death. He put him in mind of the evil stories about the Passionists, which the enemies of St. Paul of the Cross had spread far and wide, and which even good people believed, and almost in despair pleaded that, if he must be a religious, he would join one of the more respectable and time-honoured Orders.

Thoug h Vincent’s affection for his loved ones grew deeper at their grief, and at the thought of leaving them forever in this world, he did not falter in his resolution. The words of our Saviour were familiar to him. “He that loveth father or mother more than Me is not worthy of Me.” “There is no man that bath left house or brethren or sisters or father or mother or children or lands for My sake and the Gospel, who shall not receive a hundred times as much now in this time; and in the world to come life everlasting.”

Vincent did not wish, however, to leave home without obtaining his parents” bless ing. She who is the dispenser of all vocations, the Immaculate Mother of God, seems to have come to his aid in this difficulty. He was asked to preach in a neighbouring town on the feast of her Seven Sorrows, which was drawing near. Filled with grief at the wound he was inflicting on his unsuspecting parents, he obtained the coveted blessing and bade them good-bye. He preached with great eloquence upon the sorrow of Our Blessed Lady and her Divine Son at their last meeting in their home at Nazareth, and then, without a word to anyone, slipped Quietly away and hurried along the dusty roads to tile nearest Passionist monastery. Before the news of his sensational departure was generally known in his native town, he was making, in the solitude of Monte Argentaro, a beautiful island on the Tuscan coast, the spiritual retreat preparatory to his reception of the Passionist habit.

From the moment he entered the novitiate, Vincent set himself heart and soul to become a perfect Passionist. In the work he had already been something more than a novice in sanctity. He had not, like St. Gabriel, who came after him, to slough the worldling at the threshold of the religious life. For some unknown reason he did not change his baptismal name for another, as is customary, but merely added Mary. In this we have a shadowy token of the change that took place in his soul. Upon the foundations he had already laid in the world, he began to build a structure of holiness so imposing as bade fair to outrival that of the holy founder himself.

The year of probation passed quickly, and to his intense joy he was professed on September 24th, 1769, taking the usual vows of poverty, chastity and obedience, and a fourth proper to the Passionists, to promote with all diligence among the faithful devotion to the Passion of Our Lord Jesus Christ.

IV

When receiving Vincent into the Congregation, St. Paul is said to have remarked that God intended him to reach great heights of sanctity. Acting upon this knowledge of the future, he brought him to live with him, trained him himself for the work of the minions, and in many ways showed that he regarded him as a jewel that would one day shed lustre on the Passionist Congregation. With a wisdom that was his ordinary gift he allowed him to see for himself the harvest of souls that was ready for the skilful reaper, and then withdrew him into solitude, where, by prayer and study, he could perfect himself for the great work he had to do. Years afterwards Vincent used to recommend to students for the priesthood the practice of often calling to mind the souls of those who were waiting for their priestly ministrations, and whose eternal salvation depended in a manner upon their knowledge and their skill in the discharge of their duties.

It was Vincent’s great privilege to assist St. Paul of the Cross during his last hours on earth and to be present at his deathbed. So great was the impression made upon him of the sanctity of his friend and spiritual father that he thereupon decided to write his life, and in spite of the haste in which it was written, produced what has always been considered a masterpiece of religious biography. The English translation of this work is perhaps unique in this that it is the life of a saint written by a saint and introduced by one who is likely to be declared a saint, namely, the Ven. Dominic Barberi, C.P., Apostle of England.

But Vincent excelled as a missioner. The next twenty-five years might be written as a chronicle of missions and retreats, with every now and then seasons of rest in his monastery to renew his bodily strength and give him an opportunity to fulfil the observances of the religious life. The years of prayer and preparation had not been in vain. His name was known and reverenced throughout the Papal States. His golden voice struck conviction and fear into the hearts of hardened sinners, and, when he was preaching in the public squares, sometimes into the hearts of curious passersby. The Passion was the secret of his success, as it was the secret of St. Paul’s success and that of every Passionist missioner today. As he stood on the mission platform, clothed in the black habit of mourning, with the sign of the Passion on his breast and sandals on his feet, who could resist the appeal of his voice as he pointed to the crucifix and told that story of the immense love of Christ for mankind?

There was need of great apostles. The dread infidelity that had been eating its way for years into the vitals of European society had not left Italy unscathed. Indifference and disloyalty to the Holy See were rampant. That most forbidding doctrine, Jansenism, though dying fast, was yet seen in its effects-in the neglect of the Sacraments, and in the loss of that child-like confidence in the merits Of Jesus Christ and the help of His Holy Mother, which is such a marked characteristic of Italian piety. Already, too, the shadows of the troubled years to come were falling. It has been said that the fidelity of the majority of the people in the Papal States to the Pope during those sad times was not a little owing to the efforts of Vincent. In the months that immediately preceded the invasion of Rome by the French troops, he preached in nearly all the important towns of the Papal States. “The chastisement is at hand,” he used to exclaim, “and there is no longer a St. Dominic or a St. Francis to hold back the wrath of God or to stop the floods of His anger.” Even after he was a Bishop he was again and again called upon by the Holy See to preach difficult missions in dioceses that were in need of reform.

The Congregation of the Passion, being not unmindful of his virtues and talents, called him during these years to the highest offices, though these at his own request were usually of a kind that left him free to pursue the work of the missions. As a Superior, he was reverenced by his subjects. Though he never allowed the least infraction of rule or custom to pass unnoticed, his corrections were given in such a spirit of prudence and charity that the delinquents felt that they had well deserved them.

But we look in vain for what may be called the ornaments of sanctity -for great miracles and ecstasies and the wonders we read of in the lives of some saints. There were wonders, indeed-stories of his extraordinary knowledge of the future and in the confessional, of the past; but his holiness was chiefly of the hidden kind, that shone all the more brilliantly after his death for the years it had been obscured.

V

In 1796 Napoleon invaded Italy, and in 1798 General Berthier entered Rome and proclaimed a Republic. The Holy City became the prey of adventurers and marauders. The religious were driven from their monasteries, and those among them who were known for their special loyalty to the Holy See were exiled. The churches were profaned, and their sacred vessels stolen and, it is said, made to do service at the infamous orgies of the Republicans. The Vicar of Christ, who was, as Vincent said, “The humblest, the kindest and the most loving of men,” was treated with inhuman indignity and, despite his eighty-six years, was compelled to leave Rome and go into exile.

During these stormy days Vincent, whose loyalty made him a marked man, had to flee before the conqueror into the Kingdom of Naples. On his way through the towns and villages, he preached to the people and exhorted them to remain faithful to their Pontiff-King.

When Pius VI, worn out by the rigour of his confinement, died at Valence, France, in August, 1799, Rome was still in the hands of the French. As many Cardinals as could hastened secretly from their several places of exile to Venice, and elected Cardinal Chiaramonti, who took the name of Pius VII. It is a remarkable fact, and one that testifies to the esteem in which Vincent was held, that at this conclave, he, though but a simple religious, received five votes.

Owing to the successes of the Austrians, the new Pope was able to enter Rome in triumph in 1800, and one of his first acts was to fill the many vacant sees with worthy Bishops. Vincent was given notice of his appointment to the combined dioceses of Macerata and Tolentino. This news surprised and pained him. He hastened to Rome to interest his friends in having his appointment cancelled before it was made public. They all refused to take any step in the matter. Even Cardinal Antonelli, his intimate friend, though touched at his affection, counselled him to accept the episcopate for the glory of God and the welfare of the Church. Not finding in his friend the mediator he hoped for, he determined to take his case to the Pope himself. Pius VII listened kindly to his appeal and then said:

“Father Vincent, know that it was by a divine inspiration that my choice fell on yo u. No one had pointed you out to me. 1 desire you to accept.” Then, because the Vicar of Christ had spoken, he accepted and was consecrated in the Basilica of SS. John and Paul on July 26th, 1801. Vincent took up his residence at Macerata, a city set on a hill overlooking the smiling Adriatic, and famous in history as the birthplace of Father Matteo Ricci, S.J., astronomer, and founder of the Chinese missions. He governed his diocese for the remainder of the reign of Pius VII-for nearly twenty-two years. In the past he had been accustomed to read frequently and to meditate on the works of St. John Chrysostom. He now, it is said, modelled his whole life upon the counsels so abundantly found in those works. He was accessible at all times, He was known to interrupt his meals, his prayers, and often his sleep, to give audience to the crowds that came from all parts to lay their troubles before him. Priests, Bishops and even Cardinals from Rome came at times to obtain spiritual direction. But the poor were the chief objects of his solicitude. Towards them he had not lost the compassionate feeling that had made him so selfsacrificing as a boy. “What would be left for the poor?” he used to answer those who complained of the poverty of his house and the fewness of his personal attendants. Following the advice of St. Bernard, he made the episcopal residence a school of virtue, where the needy were received with open arms and the rich were shown by example how to be abundantly generous.

Though full of kindness and consideration for others, he treated himself with marked severity. The only privilege he claimed was to be as the least among his priests-to visit the prisons and the hospitals, and to carry the Viaticum to the dying.

The years of his episcopate were very fruitful. He established two seminaries, several monasteries, convents, and orphanages, and left his diocese, despite the years of unprecedented war, famine, plague; and his own exile, better organized and equipped than it had been for over a century.

Though he gave himself up entirely to the interests of his people, he remained throughout a devoted Passionist. He wore the black habit he loved, and together with a lay brother of the Congregation, who had been appointed his personal attendant, fulfilled many of the duties of a Bassoonist’s life, such as rising at midnight to pray, and followed many other acts of observance to which he had been accustomed In the monastery. He was never happier than when he could lay aside for a few days the burdens of his office, and seek in the solitude of the Passionist monastery at Morrovalle a little strength for his wearied soul.

VI

There are times when God, in His eternal designs, allows the powers of darkness to work through the worst elements in human nature for the destruction of His Church, in order that she may come forth from the struggle renewed, resplendent, and victorious. When Pius VI died in exile, her enemies declared that no Pope would ever again sit on the throne of St. Peter; but Pius VII entered Rome In triumph.

The opening years of the nineteenth century mark the darkest and the saddest page in the history of the Church in modem times. Napoleon, having been in succession Commander-in-Chief and First Consul, had himself proclaimed Emperor of the French. Flushed with the power he wielded, and with the success of his armies, which were making kings and princes bend to his iron will, he determined to make the Pope the tool of his ambition.

At first he thought to win over Pius VII to his ideas by a sham show of zeal for religion. Not succeeding in this, he came to an open rupture with him, for which pretexts were not wanting. In 1805, after receiving, as King of Italy, the Iron Crown of the Lombards, he issued a decree in which he claimed the right to appoint Bishops to the Italian sees. Later on he commanded the Pope to expel all English citizens from the Papal States, and to close his harbours against British vessels. “You are sovereign of Rome,” said Napoleon, “I am Emperor; my enemies should be your enemies also.” But the Pope firmly refused to enter an alliance that would draw on him-the Father of Christendom-the enmity of all the world.

In 1808 another decree declared that the provinces of Urbino, Ancona, Camerino and Macerata no longer belonged to the Papal States. How this decree affected Vincent we shall see shortly. Finally, in 1809, Rome was again entered by the French troops, and the Vicar of Christ robbed of his temporal sovereignty. Pius VII, who firmly refused to abdicate, was suddenly and rudely forced from his palace on the night of June 6th, thrust into a carriage without an attendant, “without linen, without his spectacles,” and taken by swift stages to Savona. This was but the first of a long series of suffering and humiliations.

The Pope spent the next four years in close captivity. At times, Napoleon, seeing his plans baffled by the spiritual might of one helpless man, and carried away with fury, determined to make him feel the full weight of his anger. His books, papers, and even his writing materials were taken from him, and he was told that any attempt to communicate with anyone would be considered high treason. But the Pope calmly replied: “I shall lay these threats at the foot of the Crucifix, and give my cause, which is His also, into the keeping of God.”

The enemies of the Church did not limit their persecution to its visible Head. All Bishops in the provinces annexed to France in 1808 were threatened with exile and the confiscation of their property if they refused to take the oath of allegiance to Napoleon.

In September of that year, the French General, Lamarois, came to Macerata and commanded Vincent to take the oath. He replied with dignity: “How is it possible that you should ask me to take an oath my conscience condemns?” “I will send you into exile if you refuse,” said the General. “Well, then, I am ready,” answered Vincent, “I would sacrifice everything sooner than disobey the orders of the Vicar of Jesus Christ.”

Two days later Vincent was arrested . “Where is your carriage?” demanded the Prefect imperiously. “Do you not know,” was the answer, “that all I possess has been given to the poor? I have no carriage. This crucifix is all I need.” And, taking it and his breviary, he set out with his gaoler. All the town seemed to be in the streets, and sobs, we are told, were audible above the cries that called down the anger of God on the wretches that had laid sacrilegious hands on their Bishop.

He was imprisoned at Novara at first, but after some months he was transferred to Milan and given greater liberty. The fame of his sanctity and learning had preceded him there. The house where he was detained at the pleasure of the Emperor at once became a place of pilgrimage, and was daily filled with people of all ranks who were seeking consolation or advice. Young priests especially made him their friend. He directed their studies, examined their writings, gave them hints and plans for sermons, and solved their difficulties. The one lesson in Sacred Eloquence he never grew tired of repeating to them was: “Be simple in your diction, popular and touching in your delivery, and seek rather the good of souls than the perfect observance of the rules of art.”

It is interesting to learn from a witness of this period of Vincent’s life, Cardinal Orioli, that an extraordinary light which immediately inspired veneration, seemed always to radiate from his countenance. It helps us to understand how, almost a total stranger, he at once became the idol of the Milanese. The sanctity that was written on his face fascinated them and drew them to him. Though but six of his seventy-nine years were spent at Milan, the reputation he gained became a tradition, and the Milanese of today claim him as their own. “He is ours,” said Pius XI, who always spoke of Milan as his own beloved city.

VII

“Does he think his sentences of excommunication will make the arms fall from the hands of my soldiers?” Whether or no those words were spoken by Napoleon in anger at the opposition of Pius VII to his plans of world domination, the fact is that in the retreat from Moscow in 1812, the arms did fall from the frozen hands of his soldiers. After a series of defeats he who had held in his power the destinies of Europe, became in his turn an exile and on St. Helena, a desolate island of the Atlantic, expiated his sacrilegist persecution of the Vicar of Christ.

On March 10th, the day following the defeat of Napoleon at the battle of Laon, Pius VII was set free. On May 24th, he made a solemn entry into Rome, where the people received him with every sign of welcome.

Hardly less triumphal was Vincent’s progress from Milan to his episcopal city. Everywhere the people were anxious to honour a Bishop who not only had suffered persecution but was remarkable for his great sanctity. He himself was surprised to the point of tears by the exuberance of the welcome prepared for him at Macerata. The hills around were lit up at night by huge bonfires, and in the streets the people sang hymns of thanksgiving.

He began at once to reorganize the two dioceses which during his five years of exile had experienced many trials. Monasteries and convents had been suppressed; the property of the Church had been confiscated or alienated to civil uses. His own episcopal residence at Macerata had been converted into a barracks and was in a wretched state of disorder.

Faced with such a tremendous task and believing he was too old to cope with it and that a younger man’s energy was required, Vincent wrote to Pius VII and sought permission to resign from his See. Pius VII would not hear of it.

That was not the first time he had tried to resign. He was but two years a Bishop when overcome by a sense of unworthiness he made a determined bid to be allowed to return to a Passionist monastery. On this occasion his confessor, Father Lambruschini, afterwards Cardinal Secretary of State to Pope Gregory XVI, had been recalled to Rome. Vincent requested him to use all his knowledge of him, even his confessional knowledge of his sins and frailties, to make the Pope understand how urgent it was that he should be removed from office. Naturally such an action made the Pope only more aware of Vincent’s great virtue. But Vincent was not convinced by this refusal that he was the right man in the right place.

Fourteen times in all Vincent tried to resign. Once when wind of what was afoot got about, the clergy and people of Macerata sent a signed petition to the Pope asking him not to allow Vincent to go. And the clergy and the people of Macerata won. However, the Pope was impressed by Vincent’s insistence on his incompetence and unworthiness. He solemnly assured him he would be allowed to retire. But when this promise came to be publicly known the people of his diocese got to work again and the Pope changed his mind.

Nevertheless, Vincent did not give up hope. When he was in Rome conducting a Retreat for the Cardinals he seems to have become convinced that he had the Pope’s advisers on his side. To make assurance doubly sure he sought the counsel and prayers of that wonderful mother of a large family who had then a great reputation for sanctity and who is now known as Blessed Anna Maria Taigi. She said that on the following day Vincent would be received coldly by the Pope, that his resignation would not be accepted, and that he would be told to return to his diocese immediately. When he got this message Vincent smilingly remarked that this time “la santa cigala”-the saintly chatterbox-was wrong, for everything had been arranged with the Secretary of State and it was as good as done.

But the saintly chatterbox was right. The next day, as Vincent stood in the antechamber at the Quirinal, the Pope entered. Scarcely taking long enough to look at him he said brusquely “We know why you have come. Everyone is putting forward bad health as an excuse. We suffer just as much as anyone and yet have to bear the whole world’s burdens. And whom can we send to replace you? One of the men who sweep the rooms, perhaps? No, go back to your diocese and at once.”

After that one would have thought there was nothing Vincent could do but return to Macerata and settle down resignedly to do what little his age and infirmity permitted. But he was not as easily put off as all that. When his great friend, Prince Odescalchi, was made Cardinal, he entertained the hope that his influence with the Pope would be more successful. Once again he was disappointed.

His final approach to Pius VII was made through the famous Cardinal Consalvi, to whom he explained in a letter that it was not so much his advanced age and increasing ill-health that made him desirous of quitting his post, as his uneasiness of conscience at the knowledge of the work that ought to be done and of his own inability to do it. But when this letter reached the Cardinal, the eighty-one-year-old Pope had broken his thigh in a fall in his room, and was on his deathbed. He died in August, 1823.

Leo XII, who succeeded Pius VII, was a warm admirer of Vincent. When he received his request to be allowed to retire from the dioceses of Macerata and Tolentino, he seems to have regarded it as an opportunity to take him to Rome and have him always by his side. This, of course, was not at all what Vincent had been hoping and praying for. What he wanted was to hide himself in some obscure Passionist monastery and there prepare himself for death. Instead he was to have apartments at the Quirinal and be almost on every day parade as the Pope’s confidant. However, he took this destruction of all his cherished hopes with a surprising calmness. He apparently had some sort of inward assurance that since his death was not far off it did not matter much after all. To a friend who was condoling with him on his disappointment, he said enigmatically: “Oh, it will turn out all right. St. Sylvester will see to it.” And to another friend he said joyfully “You will see I shall be only forty days at the Quirinal and then it will be SS. John and Paul’s!” Subsequent events solved the enigma and explained his joy.

Leo XII was scarcely three months Pope when all the ailments of a shattered constitution assailed him with fury, and threatened to cut short a reign that was more than promising great things for the Church. Towards the end of December, 1823, he was considered past all hope of recovery. Vincent visited him one evening during those days and found him so ill that he remained only a short time. On returning to his own apartments, he ordered his evening meal to be prepared a little earlier than usual. He said he would have to rise very hurriedly that night and wished to get some sleep. In fact, at midnight the Pope was taken so bad that it was thought advisable to give him the Last Sacraments. When told how serious his condition was the Pope asked for Vincent to be called. Vincent then administered Extreme Unction and the Viaticum, Afterwards as he was speaking to the Pope about spiritual things and exhorting him to great confidence in God, his face suddenly took on a particularly joyous aspect. “Holy Father,” he said with conviction, “someone is going to offer his life for you, and I shall go now and say Mass for your recovery.”

All who assisted at that Mass of Vincent later on testified to the extraordinary fervour with which he said it. When it was over he enquired how the Pope was, and on being told that he was much better, he said in accents of great joy:

“Our Lady has accepted the sacrifice and the grace has been granted.”

The Pope recovered but Vincent had a stroke on the feast of St. Sylvester and died on the following day, January 1st, 1824. Cardinal Wiseman, Archbishop of Westminster, in his “Recollections of the Last Four Popes,” tells how everyone believed that Leo XII owed his life to Vincent. “All Rome,” he says, “attributed the unexpected recovery to the prayers of a saintly Bishop, who was sent for at the Pope’s request. This was Monsignor Strambi, of the Congregation of the Passion. He came immediately, saw the Pope, and assured him~ of his recovery, as he had offered up to heaven his own valueless life in exchange for one so precious. It did indeed seem as if he had transfused his own vitality into the Pope’s languid frame. He himself died soon after, and the Pontiff rose like one from the tomb.”

The circumstances of Vincent’s death called wider attention to his great sanctity. His body, extraordinarily flexible and life-like, lay in state in one of the halls of the Quirinal for three days and in the Basilica of SS. John and Paul for five days. During that time there was a ceaseless stream of people filing past it, many of whom surreptitiously cut off bits of the Passionist habit in which he was clothed. One of the many important ecclesiastics who came to honour Vincent in death was Abbot Cappellari, who was to become Pope Gregory XVI. Noting the uncorpse-like appearance of the body he tried an experiment. He took Vincent’s right hand in his own and with it formed with the greatest of ease the sign of the cross.

Vincent’s funeral was attended by all the members of the Papal Court and the Roman nobility as well as by a vast number of priests, religious and people. Having been, as he had prophesied, forty days at the Quirinal, he was laid to rest in SS. John and Paul’s beside St. Paul of the Cross.

VIII

In the bulky volumes that have been written on the profane history of the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, we find little or no mention of this hero of sanctity. The scales of value of historians failed to register one who was neither a soldier, nor a savant, nor a scientist. Yet, if the standards of the soul are higher than those of the body; St. Vincent Strambi accomplished something that weighed down heavily the scales of Divine value-something that merits an eternal remembrance-he lived a life of virtue and selfdenial for God’s sake, and he saved innumerable souls. lmprimi Potest:

ALPHONSUS FOLEY, C.P., Praep. Prov.

Nihil Obstat:

W. M. COLLINS, Censor Dioc.

Imprimatur:

@ D. MANNIX,

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis. 1st March, 1949.

********

Saint Wenceslas

MGR. JOSEPH HANUSH

INDEX

TRANSLATOR’S NOTE

Many interesting links connect England with the land of the Czechs. One at least has given rise to elaborate controversies on Shakespeare’s knowledge of geography, for the poet assigned a sea-coast to the medieval Kingdom of Bohemia.

A permanent reminder of mutual prowess and chivalry is the motto of the Prince of Wales: “Ich Diem” adopted by the Black Prince when he slew a gallant opponent, King John of Bohemia, at the Battle of Crecy, 1346.

Princess Elizabeth, “Queen of Hearts,” daughter of James I of England, played, as consort of Frederick V of Bohemia, a considerable role during the chequered political history of Central Europe in the 17th century.

In our own day Czech Legions in the world war, fighting spontaneously as England’s allies, have cemented for ever ties of friendship between the two peoples.

But it is the annual tribute in England to Bohemia’s great national Saint as patron of Christmas charity that most popularly binds Czech and English. The carol Good King Wenceslas is sung at Christmastide throughout Great Britain, where no doubt more details of the Saint’s life and good works will be welcome.

GOOD KING WENCESLAS (COMPOSED BY J. M. NEALE ON THE BASIS OF CZECH LEGENDS.) GOOD KING WENCESLAS LOOKED OUT

On the Feast of Stephen,

When the snow lay round about,

Deep and crisp and even,

Brightly shone the moon that night,

Though the frost was cruel,

When a poor man came in sight

Gathering winter fuel.

“Hither, Page! and stand by me,

If thou knowest it, telling,

Yonder peasant, who is he ?

Where and what his dwelling?”

“Sire, he lives a good league hence,

Underneath the mountain

Right against the forest fence

By Saint Agnes’ fountain.”

“Bring me flesh and bring me wine,

Bring me pine logs hither,

Thou and I shall see him dine

When we bear them thither.”

Page and Monarch forth they went,

Forth they went together

Through the rude wind’s wild lament

And the bitter weather.

“Sire, the night grows darker now

And the wind blows stronger;

Fails my heart, I know not how,

I can go no longer.”

“Mark my footsteps, my good Page!

Tread thou in them boldly! Thou shalt find the winter wind Freeze thy blood less coldly.” In his master’s steps he trod, Where the snow lay dinted, Heat was in the very sod

Which the Saint had printed. Therefore Christian men be sure, Wealth or rank possessing, Ye who now do bless the poor Shall yourselves find blessing.

A THOUSAND years ago St. Wenceslas, Ruler of the Czechs, was martyred for the Christian Faith by his brother Boleslas at Stara Boleslav near Prague.

“Svaty Vaclav,” a hero both energetic and pacific, remains the centre of religious cult and national life in Czechy (Bohemia), venerated by his own people and also by the faithful throughout the Catholic Church.

According to a patriotic legend an army with King Wenceslas at its head, sleeping under Mount Blanik, arises in moments of great national danger to deliver the country.

Researches made by the distinguished historian Professor Pekar, translations from the German by the Rev. Father Striz, the work “Svati Vaclav” by Mgr. Stejskal, as well as the exhaustive studies of Dr. Podlaha give abundant material for the life of the Saint.

The earliest documentary legend concerning Wenceslas dates from the first half of the tenth century, and was discovered by the Russian, Vostokoff, in 1830. It is written in Old Slav with Glagolite letters. Another legend, also dating from the tenth century, was recently found by Professor Nikolsky. The Saint’s earliest biography written in Latin and beginning “Crescente Fide Christiana,” is probably of Bavarian origin and was used by Bishop Gombold of Mantua when compiling another at the wish of Emperor Otto II.

Manuscripts of the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries to be found in the libraries of Prague and in the Convent of Boeddecke in Westphalia, contain the legend edited by the Jesuit Father Balbin in the seventeenth and by Father Suysken in the eighteenth centuries, for the Acta Sanctorum. Father Athanasius in 1767, and Joseph Emler in 1873, and finally Dr. Pekar’s Latin versions of 1906 (translated by Professor Truhler and Father Striz in 1921) give us the authentic narrative as first written by the monk Christian at the injunction of his nephew St. Adalbert, Bishop of Prague. This monk, living at the close of the tenth century, was able to investigate and control the various accounts and reports relating to Wenceslas, so that his document may be taken as historically accurate, purged of exaggeration and fancy, and as containing authentic facts. It clears the memory of Drahomira, mother of St. Wenceslas, to whose influence, as in so many parallel cases, tradition ascribed the acts committed by the evil men around her. Drahomira was a Christian, and if she did not effectively oppose the pagan element at Court, did penance for her shortcomings to the end of her life. The document also proves the existence of the Slav Rite in Bohemia a hundred and fifty years after its introduction by Saints Cyril and Methodius.

While the monk Christian was writing on St. Wenceslas in Bohemia, another Czech monk named Vavrinets (Lorenzo) was doing the same at Monte Cassino, while a third treated the subject in rhythmic Latin beginning: “Oportet nos fratres . . .”

A legend of the thirteenth century: “Oriente jam sole . . .” acclaims St. Wenceslas as deliverer of the Czechs from the German yoke, and a Script: “Vita St. Wenceslai ut annuntietur” commemorates the virtues of the Saint and the miracles he wrought. Emperor Charles IV, the “Father of his Country,” also wrote the biography of St. Wenceslas. A series of works on St. Wenceslas in several languages testify to general interest in the martyr.

LIFE OF ST. WENCESLAS (907–929)

ST. WENCESLAS was born in 907, probably at Stochow, a village still extant near Prague. His father, Vratislav, a younger son of Prince Borivoj of the House of Premmyslides, governed a portion only of the land, during the reign of his elder brother Sphytihnev, but on the death of the latter in 915, Vratislav ascended the throne. The Saint’s mother, Drahomira, was the daughter of a Prince of the Lutici, a Slav tribe then inhabiting the country of Brandenburg which was afterwards Germanised. Wenceslas was baptised in the Slav Rite by Father Paul, a disciple of St. Methodius and chaplain of Princess Ludmila, grandmother of the infant. She was a woman of great learning and sanctity, and was one of the earliest Czech saints to be canonised. Saint Ludmila remains a beloved figure in the history of the nation. Together with Father Paul she superintended the education of young Wenceslas who was an apt and eager pupil. He was taught the psalms, the liturgy, and the elements of what knowledge is necessary to a future ruler, bound to defend as well as to govern his people. At Budec College he acquired Latin, the cultural language of the time, and became as proficient as any aspirant to Holy Orders. He was also fully instructed in the science of warfare and the manipulation of arms, being destined, like all the princes of his time, to direct in practice as well as in theory whatever military measures were undertaken to protect his country.

The death of his father, who was killed in battle by the Magyars, interrupted the lad’s studies, for he was called to succeed. Since he was still a minor, his mother, Drahomira, acted as regent and guardian of her seven children. Drahomira is represented as jealous of Princess Ludmila’s ascendancy over Wenceslas. She lent an ear to the courtiers who asserted that he was being trained rather for a monastic life than for a throne. Drahomira has been accused of conniving at, or even instigating, the wicked plans of her semi-Christianised courtiers, two of whom compassed the death of the venerable Princess Ludmila at her castle of Tetin in 921. The pagan element now prevailed so strongly at the Court of Drahomira, even after the banishment of the two murderers, that Wenceslas could receive priests and other friends only in secret and at night.

On attaining his majority the young Sovereign boldly grasped the reins of government, and issued a proclamation that he would observe divine laws, punish murder severely, but endeavour to be clement and just in all things. Drahomira, at first banished to Budec, was soon recalled to Prague by her son and we hear no more of the criminal disposition with which she had been charged, no doubt by interested calumniators intent on shifting blame from themselves. Wenceslas transferred the remains of his grandmother to St. George’s Church in the capital where they received public veneration.

The young Sovereign practised Christian virtue to a degree that has identified his name with charity, beneficence and justice. He was particularly attentive to the trials of criminals, tempering punishments, and showing special mercy to the poor, as well as enforcing better treatment of prisoners. His generosity was boundless. With his own hands he gathered fuel in the royal forests and conveyed it to indigent homes. He ransomed the slaves captured in war, and had them instructed and baptised. Wenceslas was an example in assiduity at Divine Worship, and prepared with his own hands the bread and wine for the Holy Sacrifice. He built numerous churches, recalled the banished clergy, and took every possible means to spread Christian civilisation and religious truth.

But good Prince Wenceslas did not neglect the duty of maintaining the integrity of his fatherland. He had an efficient army, well clad, well armed, and thoroughly disciplined. Nevertheless, he was careful not to expose rashly the lives of his men. When a marauding tribe entered his territory, Wenceslas challenged its Chief, Rastislas, to settle the matter by single combat and thus avoid wanton effusion of blood. Rastislas agreed, and sallied forth to meet his opponent, but he dropped his weapons at the sight of a luminous Cross above the head of the Saint and of an angel at each side. Wenceslas did not misuse his triumph. He ceded a large tract of land and a castle to Rastislas for the duration of his life, on condition that these should ultimately revert to the Crown of Bohemia, thus furthering the consolidation and unity of the Kingdom. Another proof of political sagacity was his treaty with the German ruler Henry, who marched on Prague with such forces as Wenceslas could not hope to defeat. He offered negotiation instead of warfare and consented to pay tribute in money and cattle as well as to recognise the suzerainty of the German Monarch.

Thus did Wenceslas avert his country’s subjugation, and the horrors of devastation and massacre in a hopeless struggle. The land of the Czechs was recognised as an entity, instead of being annexed and absorbed by its powerful neighbour. Other Slav groups in Northern Europe, whose chiefs had less perspicacity, wore themselves out in ceaseless strife against their Teuton adversaries, and were finally blotted out. Relations between Henry of Germany and Wenceslas were cordial, and often marked by deference of the former to the latter. On one occasion at a reunion of Bavarian and other princes, presided over by the German Monarch, Wenceslas was late. King Henry exclaimed angrily that no doubt the delay was due to the long prayers of the Czech, and suggested that nobody should greet him when he appeared. At the moment of his entrance, however, Henry was the first to advance and embrace him, declaring that Wenceslas brought the grace of God amongst them.

After labouring successfully for the development of the economic resources of his people, and promoting in every way their spiritual welfare, Wenceslas bethought himself of retiring to Rome and embracing a monastic life. However, before renouncing the throne in favour of his brother Boleslas, he wished to see the completion of the Cathedral of St. Vitus. He had begun its construction in order to house worthily a relic of this Saint, presented to him by King Henry on the occasion of the Treaty mentioned above, when hostilities between Czechs and Germans were averted. Unfortunately, Wenceslas was not destined to see his wish fulfilled. The dedication of the Cathedral only took place after his martyrdom.

Prince Boleslas had not enjoyed the benefits of an upbringing under the auspices of the saintly Princess Ludmila. He had been left to the care of semi-pagan courtiers whose mode of thought and rough ways he easily acquired. They now resented the strict rules of conduct enforced by Wenceslas who was, moreover, too mild and virtuous to suit their idea of the strong ruler required by Bohemia. Boleslas had, for his share of inheritance, a tract of land beyond the River Elbe, and he built himself a fine castle at the confluence of that river with the Jisera. It is said that he commanded the chief men of the district to make him a stone residence after the Roman fashion; but they, having abundance of timber to hand, proceeded to erect a wooden palace in the usual style, whereupon he beheaded some and reduced the others to obedience.

Boleslas, the very opposite of his brother, gathered round him a crowd of malcontents to whom the acts of Wenceslas were a constant reproach, for these men scorned to repress their passions or modify their evil lives. A plot was hatched to remove Wenceslas and replace him by his more accommodating brother who was unlikely to put a restraint on morals or to hinder freebooting expeditions. Boleslas agreed to usurp his brother’s place, conniving even at the projected murder. He went in person to invite Wenceslas to his castle at Stara Boleslav for the patronal feast of the church, realising that it would be impossible to seize him in the strongly-fortified royal residence at Prague. On the 27th of September, 929, Feast of SS. Cosmas and Damian, Wenceslas assisted at the celebrations in Stara Boleslav, and remained after Mass, at his brother’s request, to witness the games and contests arranged in honour of the day. The conspirators had meant to assassinate him as he sat at the banquet, but when they looked on his tranquil countenance their courage failed. As he left the hall, two of his retainers approached him and warned him that something was afoot. They had a saddled horse in readiness, and urged him to make his escape; but Wenceslas refused and returned instead to the banqueting hall and resumed his seat. He lifted his glass and called on the company to toast “St. Michael, whom we pray to guide us to peace and eternal joy.” Not all of those present answered “Amen,” but Wenceslas withdrew undisturbed, and he recited the psalms as usual before laying down to rest. Meantime, the conspirators conferred at the house of Hnevys, and summoned Boleslas to assist. It was resolved that Wenceslas should be slain on his way to early morning Mass, and Boleslas gave orders to the priests of the Saints Cosmas and Damian Church that its doors should be barred at that hour. The church was connected with Boleslas’s castle by a private passage where it was deemed the crime could be safely committed.

At the sound of the Mass bell, Wenceslas rose and went towards the church, along the passage where Boleslas awaited him. The other conspirators were hidden in an adjoining courtyard. Wenceslas greeted Boleslas, and again thanked him for his hospitality, but in response the traitor exclaimed

“Yesterday I did my best to serve you worthily, but this must be my service today!” He drew a sword from beneath his cloak and struck at the head of Wenceslas, who parried the blow, snatched the weapon from his assailant, and threw him on the ground. He might have dispatched the miscreant and remained master of the situation, for the other conspirators rushed forward only when Boleslas’s cries for help showed that he was alive although worsted in combat. But Wenceslas was no fratricide, even in self-defence, and preferred to succumb. Cesta, Tyra and Hnevys dashed to the rescue of Boleslas and stabbed Wenceslas ruthlessly, one blade-thrust piercing his side. He fell at the church door murmuring: “May God forgive you this, my Brother!”

The date of St. Wenceslas’ martyrdom is September 28th, 929. When the assassins had accomplished their foul deed they escaped, and Drahomira was apprised of her eldest son’s tragic fate. Stricken with grief she hastened to convey the body, covered with wounds, inside the church, whose outside walls were bespattered with blood. The red stains remained visible for centuries.

A legend says that on that ill-starred night, a son was born to Boleslas and named by the people “Strach-Hvas” (Dread Feast) in allusion to the perfidious banquet given in honour of Prince Wenceslas before he was murdered.

Boleslas took care that the funeral of his brother was carried out with due royal pomp, and Father Paul, the former tutor of Wenceslas, had the mournful task of officiating at the burial. The martyr was interred close to the church which was subsequently enlarged so as to include the grave within its precincts. Drahomira with her devoted daughter Pribyslava, fearing that they too might be victims of Boleslas’s partisans, had fled before the funeral took place. Her suspicions were fully justified by the violent deaths which followed of Wenceslas’s servants and of his friends, including many priests.

Some time after the martyrdom, Wenceslas appeared to his sister Pribyslava, and told her where to find, near the church door, his ear which had been slashed off by a sword-cut. She discovered it exactly in the spot indicated and had the coffin opened in order to place the severed member near the Saint’s head. When the body was afterwards transferred to Prague, say the chroniclers, the ear was found adhering to its proper place as firmly as if it had never been detached.

Boleslas, tormented by remorse, sought to make reparation and to ease his conscience by transporting the mortal remains of the Saint to the capital. He gave orders that this should be done at early dawn, on March 4th, 932, under pain of death for those charged with the task if they delayed in its performance. But the river Rokytnice was in flood, and therefore impassable. The convoy fell on their knees and implored St. Wenceslas to help them. They then went to seek wood for a raft in the nearest forest, leaving the coffin on the bank. On their return they saw it on the other side and after fording the stream on horseback found it dry and uninjured as if miraculously transported without touching the water. Another obstacle confronted them at the river Vltava where the bridge was broken down. Again they had recourse to St. Wenceslas, and suddenly the coffin became so light that they easily waded with it on their shoulders to the opposite bank. A third incident confirmed their trust in the power of the Saint. Some distance from the Castle of Prague the horses drawing the bier stopped short and twelve team of oxen were requisitioned instead: The animals strained ineffectually until the arrival of the Arch-priest of the Church of Our Lady accompanied by his clergy. It was now broad daylight and a great crowd had assembled which joined in the Arch-priest’s invocation for Divine assistance. At the close of the prayer, a single team of oxen (all the others having been unyoked) moved forward of their own accord and never paused in the steep ascent, till they reached the new Church of St. Vitus, Wenceslas’s own foundation. Here the martyred Prince was interred amidst touching manifestations of love and grief by his devoted people.

THE CULT OF ST. WENCESLAS

St. Wenceslas was a martyr for the Faith which he upheld against pagan opposition.

His zeal for the erection of churches which are amongst the most beautiful in the world; his maintenance of priests to celebrate regularly the Divine Liturgy and teach their flocks not only religious doctrine, but every useful branch of knowledge; his rectitude which forbade condemnation of accused persons without full proof of their guilt; his generosity and charity in protecting the humble against their masters; his refusal to participate in pagan feasts and rites at that time still prevalent in Bohemia; his exemplary life which caused his soldiers and subjects to see in him a monk rather than a prince, all this proves his sanctity and justifies the title of Saint given him by the Czech people. We have no exact date of his canonisation which was probably pronounced by Bishop Detmar, or by his successor Bishop Adalbert of Prague. The process of canonisation was not in those days reserved exclusively to the Papacy, as it has been since the reign of Pope Alexander III. But we have incontestable proofs that he was duly canonised, for a Sacramentary of the time of King Otto, crowned in 985, mentions September 28th, in the ecclesiastical calendar, as the Feast of St. Wenceslas, Martyr.

The concourse of pilgrims to his tomb became so immense that Prince Spytinev constructed a new church with three naves in order to make room for them. Among the earliest cures effected at the shrine of St. Wenceslas were those of a leprous woman and of a paralytic from France, both being instantaneous and complete. The Czech people soon attributed a wider scope to the power of the Martyr than the healing of bodily ills. As fervent lover of his people, he was besought in all national crises. The Chronicler Cosmo relates that in 1002, when the Poles invaded Bohemia, Saint Wenceslas protected the land and secured the return of the rightful ruler Oldrich. The victory of Domazlice, gained in I040 by Bratislas I over the Germans, and another victory in 1126, when Prince Sobeslas defeated the forces of King Lothar, were attributed to the intercession of St. Wenceslas. In 1260, the army of King Premysl-Ottokar II of Bohemia, encamped near the village of Kessenbrun at the confluence of the Morava and the Danube, was surrounded on three sides by the army of Beta II, King of Hungary. The Czechs called on God and St. Wenceslas, then marched boldly to the attack and routed the enemy.

On the feast of his patron and namesake, King Wenceslas II won a great battle at Sieradce on the Wartha in 1292. But on the other hand we find that it was generally held that no hostilities should be entered upon, if possible, on that day, and truces were often arranged between conflicting parties so that the Feast could be worthily celebrated.

RELICS

Soon after his martyrdom relics of St. Wenceslas were laid on the altars of several churches. Bishop Hildibald deposited a piece of linen saturated with the Saint’s blood in the St. Lawrence Chapel of Hilberstadt Cathedral in the year 992. Relics of St. Adalbert and St. Wenceslas were placed in the High Altar of Eucharia’s Church at Trier in 1148. Pieces of his garments were also kept in the churches of Tegernsee, Bamberg, Salzburg, Rhinegan, and of Quedlimburg where an altar was consecrated in honour of SS. Remy and Wenceslas. In Bohemia itself there are numerous relics of the national Saint. The Czech Bishop Daniel deposited them, in presence of King Vladislav and his Queen Judith, in the churches of Bohnice, Recany, Cirkvice, and in St. James’s Church of Prague.

CHURCHES

A great number of churches were founded in honour of the Martyr, notably one at Prosek, near Prague, in 972, and another near the Castle itself of Prague, which was destroyed by Joseph II of Austria in 1782. One of the oldest extant is that of St. Wenceslas at Stara Boleslav. Prince Svatopluk of Moravia built a church at Olomouc in honour of St. Wenceslas, and Robert, Bishop of Cracow, consecrated another in that city in the year 1142. Two Kings of Bohemia, Ladislas Posthumus, and Wenceslas II, appointed priests in the fifteenth century, to say Mass regularly at the altar of St. Wenceslas in Aix-la-Chapelle. There are hundreds of churches in various cities of Central Europe dedicated to the national Saint of the Czechs, and at least four in the United States of America.

The basilica of St. Peter at Rome has a St. Wenceslas’s altar erected by Bishop Berka of Olomouc who died at Rome in 1333. This altar was later dedicated to St: Erasmus; but Pope Urban VIII ordered that in the new basilica an altar should be dedicated to the Czech Saint and Martyr. This was done in 1628, when the relics were solemnly transferred. The altar which is in the right nave (where the Vatican Council of 1870 was held) bears the inscription: “Altar of St. Wenceslas, Duke of Bohemia, offered by Hynec, Bishop of Olomouc.”

It was richly endowed for the celebration of Masses and the Office of the Dead.

The Czech people revere St. Wenceslas as their particular patron and he is honoured by the entire Slav race. King Bratislas II assisted on September 28th, in 1092, at a splendid church celebration of the Feast, and entertained courtiers and nobles with extraordinary magnificence during three days. On this date national assemblies were usually convoked, churches consecrated and important enterprises begun.

The Office of St. Wenceslas was introduced in the Roman Breviary in the thirteenth century; the story of St. Wenceslas as it now stands in the second Nocturn dates from the fourteenth century.

When Pope Urban VIII extended the Feasts of Kings Hermengildus and Stephen to the universal Church, Archbishop Matthew Ferdinand Zubeck of Prague obtained the same privilege for the Feast of the Bohemian Prince and Saint Benedict XIII made the Feast obligatory. The Mass and Office had previously been inserted in Missal and Breviary under Pro aliquibus locis.

A touching expression of the Czech people’s love for their popular Saint is the ancient canticle “Svaty Vaclave,” sung today with as much fervour as in the Middle Ages. The author of the first four verses was probably Bishop Bechyne who composed them at the time of the Brandenburg invasion in 1272. But the Jesuit historian, Father Balbi, ascribes them to Bishop Ernest of Pardubice in the fourteenth century. The Calixtine Hussites themselves chanted “Svaty Vaclave,” and bore his image on their shields with the chalice above the banner and the first four lines of the canticle below. One of these shields is preserved in the National Museum at Prague and another in the Hermitage at Petrograd. The canticle has always had a national as well as a religious character. In the rebellion of 1848, against Hapsburg absolutism, the help of St. Wenceslas was invoked to repel and overcome Germanisation.

Saint Wenceslas,

Duke of Bohemia, Our Prince,

Pray for us to God

The Holy Spirit.

Christe Eleison!

Thou heir of Czech lands,

Be mindful of thy race,

Let us not perish, Now nor in future!

Holy Wenceslas!

Christe Eleison!

We pray thy assistance,

Have pity on us!

Comfort the sad; banish all evil,

Holy Wenceslas!

Christe Eleison!

Beauteous are the celestial courts,

Happy he who enters there

To life eternal, in the radiant glow

Of the Holy Ghost.

Christe Eleison!

Mary, Mother most admirable,

Thou powerful Queen,

Pray for us Christians

To thy Son, Our Lord.

Christe Eleison!

Holy celestial angels,

Lead us towards you There where praises

Rise unceasingly

To the Eternal God.

Christe Eleison!

All ye Saints, pray for us!

Let us not perish!

St. Vitus, St. Norbert,

St. Sigmund, St. Procopius,

St. Adalbert, St. John Nepomuk,

St. Ludmila, St. Wenceslas,

Christe Eleison!

Glory to God the Father! Make we the Sign of the Cross! In the name of the Father And of the Son

And of the Holy Ghost! Christe Eleison.

The suffragan Bishop of Prague, Thomas Pesina of Cechorod ( 1680), instituted the custom of a procession from the altar of St. John Nepomuk to the chapel of St. Wenceslas, in St. Vitus’s Cathedral, after Vespers and Benediction on Sundays and Feast-days. During the procession the above canticle is intoned by the Metropolitan Chapter, and taken up by the faithful who join heartily in the homage to their favourite Saint.

Homilies and sermons relating to Saint Wenceslas can be traced in documents as far back as the thirteenth century, notably in the collection of Opatovice. A volume entitled The Lion of Bohemia, containing prayers to St. Wenceslas, was published in 1642. A prayer book edited by the Jesuit Father Konias, in 1727, likewise includes prayers to the Czech Saint.

The memory of St. Wenceslas was also kept alive by the Drama. Jesuit Fathers were the first to arrange for the performance of a Wenceslas play at the Convent of St. Nicholas in Prague. Another, entitled “Christian Bohemia,” was performed in 1583, and a five-act tragedy treating of the Royal Martyr was produced at Olomouc in 1614. Ten years later it was repeated at Hradec Kralove, and again, in 1649, at Uherske Hradiste. In 1675, there was a production at Prague in which St. Wenceslas was represented as the devout adorer of the Blessed Sacrament. Scenes from his life were also shown at Kutric Hora in 1679. Young seminarians frequently performed Wenceslas plays in various parts of Bohemia. On September 12th, 1725, there was a performance at St. Clement’s College, Prague.

A play entitled “Octodecim heroum Christianorum spectacula,” was published by Jules Cortius in 1662 at Prague, and seven years later William Dondinus published “Selecta heroum spectacula” at Munich. Both plays deal with the encounter between Wenceslas and Radslav (Rastislas).

Joseph Cajetan Tyl, a well-known dramatic poet, published in 1849 a play entitled “Baptism by Blood,” or “Drahomira and her Sons.” The most famous of Czech poets, Jaroslav Vrhlicky, wrote a poem entitled “Drahomira and the Brothers.” In 1818 Joseph Linda published a historical novel: “Christianity Resplendent over Paganism,” or “Wenceslas and Boleslas.” In our own day a classic of the theatre repertory is a drama by Dr. Sajc and Mlle. Braunerova, entitled “Saints Ludmila and Wenceslas “ and inspired by the monk Christian’s legend already mentioned above. This work which is of considerable artistic value shows the life and death of the Martyr in a series of tableaux vivants, and it has a prominent place in the jubilee programme.

Painters, too, found inspiration in the life of St. Wenceslas. A hundred years after his death three scenes from his life were depicted (probably by a monk) for Princess Hemma, widow of Boleslas II. Pictures of St. Wenceslas are often found in devotional and liturgical books. The oldest portrait now extant, dating from the fourteenth century, is in the Church of St. Nicholas of Prague. The ancient Veleslavian Bible, preserved in the Lobkowits Library and dating from the fourteenth century; contains a series of illustrations relating to the Saint’s Life. Another is in the wall of the staircase in the main tower of Karlstein Castle, and a third in the Wenceslas Chapel of St. Vitus’ Cathedral.

The life of St. Wenceslas is depicted in the forty-four chapels built in 1670 on the road from Prague to Stara Boleslav at regular intervals of 479 metres (the length of the Charles IV Bridge at Prague). The chapels contain paintings of various shrines of the Blessed Virgin in Bohemia, and beneath these are scenes from the lives of St. Wenceslas and of the noble founders of these chapels. In the church of Stara Boleslav there is a painting of the Saint by Charles Skreta, an artist of the seventeenth century. A painting by Peter Brandl (1668–1735) is to, be found in the Rudolphinium picture gallery, and one by the Jesuit Father Ignatius Raab (1715-I787) in the church at Prosek.

More recent paintings are by Emmanuel Ditc in the chapel of the Count Straka Academy where the Confederation of the Czechoslovak Students has its headquarters. There is also a painting in the Collegiate Chapel of Vysehrad, by Frantisek Urban, and one in the Church of St. Wenceslas at Smychov by Frantisek Sequence. On the standard of the National Guard of Hradec Kralove there is a fine picture of St. Wenceslas painted by Joseph Manes in 1848.

In the basilica of St. Peter at Rome (grotta Vaticana) there is a fine painting of St. Wenceslas with a sword in his right hand, and in his left a banner with a black eagle on a white ground. Emperor Charles IV is seen kneeling, and St. Procupius, St. Adalbert and Archbishop John Ocko are also depicted. A copy has been made by the Czech painter Hynais for the Czech College in Rome, and another by Joseph Furich. A painting of St. Wenceslas by Angelo Carossello was placed on September 26th, 1630, over the altar of St. Wenceslas in St. Peter’s, Rome. It shows him as a Roman Emperor with a diadem, and below there is another picture of his martyrdom. In the Church of St. Maria Trastevere, together with a picture of the Annunciation, there is one of St. Wenceslas standing beside Our Lady with banner and sword.

In the Vatican Library there is an ancient Gospel containing the following notes: “It is believed that this book belonged to St. Wenceslas, Prince of Bohemia, and was brought by him to Stara Boleslav. The Chapter of the SS. Cosmas and Damian Church presented it to Augustine, Slav Archpriest at Brno.”

There are many statues of St. Wenceslas. The oldest and most remarkable is one by Peter Parler (1372), renovated in 1866 and now adorning the Cathedral in Prague. An equestrian statue in Vysehrad Park is the work of George Pendl (1678) . Formerly it stood in the horse market (now St. Wenceslas Square), and it was in front of this statue that Archbishop Joseph Louis Shrenk of Prague celebrated Mass on March 79th, 1848, for the delegation about to lay the claims of Bohemia before the Emperor at Vienna. On its return it was received by the Municipality, the National Guard, and cheering crowds. A procession formed up and marched to the statue of St. Wenceslas where the Archbishop sang a Te Deum. Mass was celebrated here again on Whit-Monday, June 12th, 1848, by the patriotic priest, Father John Arnold, who exhorted the excited people to remain calm and hopeful. Since that date the old market has been called after St. Wenceslas. In 1908 a new statue replaced the old. It stands six metres high and is the work of the famous sculptor Joseph Vaclav Myslbeck who died in 1926. It bears the inscription: “Nedej zahnouti nam ni budoucim!” (Let not our race perish!) Four other patron saints of Bohemia are grouped around the mounted figure of St. Wenceslas; St. Procopius, St. Adalbert, St. Ludmila, and Blessed Agnes of Bohemia.

The name and image of St. Wenceslas are found on coins dating from the reign of Prince Jaromir in the eleventh century; coins of a later date show Wenceslas the Knight, Cross in hand, or Wenceslas the Saint with halo, or Wenceslas the Martyr. The finest engraving is that on the coinage of Wladislas I, depicting him as a child borne aloft by two angels. Several Kings of Bohemia had gold coins struck with his image: Wenceslas IV (1378–1419); Wladislas II (1471–1516); Louis I (1516–1526); and Ferdinand I (1526–1564) who was specially devoted to the Patron Saint of Bohemia.

The Czechoslovak Republic, according to a law passed on March 23rd, 1923, had gold coins minted with the image of St. Wenceslas in armour, and the inscription: “Let not our race perish,” on one side, and on the other the emblems and inscription of the Republic.

The image of St. Wenceslas appears for the first time on the seals of the Sovereigns of Bohemia during the reign of Vladislas II and shows the Saint seated on his throne. These seals were preserved until the thirteenth century, but disappeared during the reign of Premysl II (1253–1278). The seals of the judicial Court of Bohemia in the time of Premysl Ottokar I bore the image of St. Wenceslas in warrior’s armour with the inscription: “Judiciary Seal of the Land of St. Wenceslas, Prince of the Czechs.”

Similar seals were also used by the Metropolitan Chapter of Prague from the twelfth century onwards, by the administrators of the archdiocese, and by the Utraquist Consistory. The city seals of 1520 show the Saint with lance and escutcheon of the Lion of Bohemia. His martyrdom is depicted on the seals of the Chapter of Stara Boleslav. The seals of Prague University dating from 1350 show Emperor Charles IV kneeling beside St. Wenceslas. Several cities of Bohemia use seals bearing his image.

While yet hereditary Prince of Bohemia, Emperor Charles IV had a crown wrought which was placed on the Martyr’s skull to indicate that he was the real master of the country. Hence the skull with the crown is not in the tomb, but is preserved in another part of the Cathedral. Since the time of Charles IV, the crown of Bohemia is known as the crown of St. Wenceslas and the Czechs as the people of St. Wenceslas.

The cult of their Saint has been intimately associated with the national life of the Czechs who turned to him in times of stress and danger. Indeed, the Catholic Faith has been called the Faith of St. Wenceslas, and the Czech language the language of St. Wenceslas. During the fiercest German oppression, in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries when the language was officially proscribed, and spoken only by the peasantry and by patriotic priests, veneration for the national Czech Saint never ceased; the canticle of St. Wenceslas was sung in the vernacular; frequent pilgrimages were made to his tomb and the people cherished a belief that Svaty Vaclav would one day compass their deliverance. Laity and clergy, especially Jesuits like Balbin, fostered assiduously the cult of St. Wenceslas as a gauge of better times to come. The mother of the Jesuit Father Mathias Steyer bequeathed her fortune of 1,300 florins for the publication of Catholic books in the Czech language. This legacy of St. Wenceslas, founded in 1670, augmented by generous gifts from the Czech nobility, episcopate and clergy, distributed over 8,000 books, catechisms, bibles, lives of saints, religious and national hymn-books, within three years. By 1752 over 80,000 books had been distributed, and there is no doubt that this legacy of a Czech woman saved the written language of the people during the fierce Germanising campaign. Emperor Joseph II looked askance at the legacy of St. Wenceslas and finally confiscated “for educational purposes” the fund of 15,676 florins. The books which remained were, however, distributed to the people by the Archbishopric of Prague. The Grand Seminary of St. Wenceslas founded by the Jesuits in 1559 for 150 students fostered the Czech language; but it disappeared with the suppression of the Order, and its funds were confiscated by the State. The Czech people never lost heart through the worst period of oppression, and the symbolical image of St. Wenceslas arising with his army from Mount Blanik helped to keep alive their faith in ultimate triumph.

During the world war the first organisation of Czechoslovak legionaries to help the allies took the oath on the Feast of St. Wenceslas on September 28th, 1914, at Kiev in Russia. On January 1st, 1916 this organisation took the name of regiment of St. Wenceslas and bore it until June, 1917, after the Retreat of Zborov.

On April 3rd, 1925, the Feast of St. Wenceslas (September 28th) was made a State Holiday of the Republic of Czechoslovakia. St. Wenceslas is venerated by the entire nation. Catholics see in him a Martyr and Patron of the Church, while others revere him as a great national hero.

It is noteworthy that during the outburst of iconoclasm after the downfall of Austria, when mobs were egged on to violence by anti-Catholic demagogues, and many religious statues were destroyed, not one of St. Wenceslas was touched. Indeed, Svaty Vaclav means so much to the Czech people that all, without distinction of creed, participate in honouring him.

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Saints For The Sick

HOUSEBOUND, DISABLED, HOSPITALIZED

MONK MATTHEW

INDEX

HELP

There is real help.

It is help which transforms the sufferings of ‘the sick’-be you only temporarily in hospital, or permanently crippled, diseased, chair-bound, in constant or intermittent pain.

Those who have experienced this help are themselves the living evidence of its reality. There is the crippled young woman whose condition is relatively painless. but who knew the pain of a sour resentment in her helpless reliance on others and ‘the things I am missing.’ She now radiates a joy which attracts those she previously resented. There are many in pain whose sense of loss and futility has been turned to great purpose, and with others still there is a new, deep peace of the soul where, before. they fretted in a bedridden gloom of despondency.

The help which thus transformed these sufferers, and a myriad more besides, is waiting for ot hers of ‘the sick’ to approach, invite, and receive what no doctor, nurse, relative, specialist, nor yet medicines, can supply.

It is the help of the saints.

The saints are concerned in, and actively involved with, what is going on down here . . . with us who are going through our test and development period on earth.

Their words have the seal of divine approval because of their canonization, and little St Teresa of Lisieux well summarized the reality of this involvement when she said, just before she died:’I feel that my mission is soon to begin . . . I will spend my heaven doing good on earth. This is not impossible, since the angels from the very heart of the beatific vision keep watch over us. No, I shall not be able to take any rest until the end of the world.’

So, the saints are concerned with us, really hungering to help us win through our test-stint. But they cannot force their help on us; it is in the Divine order that they can enter only where they are invited. We must, in prayer, approach them.

No one knows or knew this better than the saints themselves. Early in his life St Cyprian, for instance, was telling everybody:

‘We should look to Heaven as our real home; there a great multitude awaits us of those who are freed from care for their own salvation but are full of care for ours.’

St Stanislaus teaches us ‘in every trial in life, and above all in sickness and in the hour of death, to ask the prayers of our saint and to trust fearlessly in his aid.’

The great St Augustine relied constantly on the intercession of the saints: ‘God, who created all things, is in all places, and is everywhere to be worshipped. Yet his infinite wisdom thinks fit to work wonders at the intercession of his saints . . . ‘ And St John Chrysostom was forever imploring people to recognize that ‘the prayers of the saints have mighty power to help our need . . . let us call upon them, for they can be bolder of speech in death than when they lived.’ Others proclaim: ‘When beset by temptations we do well to call upon the saints, who reign with Christ. They are stronger than the evil spirits which fight against us. They were powerful during their lives against the impulses of evil, and they are more powerful now that they have passed from the Church on earth to the Church triumphant.’

‘Choose some particular saints,’ instructs St Francis de Sales, ‘that you may enter more deeply into their spirit and imitate them, and have a special confidence in their intercession.’

Whom, then, are we to choose? We naturally have a closer affinity with those who experienced on earth what we are experiencing now.

What they give is not something remote, distant, in ‘the future.’ It is here, in our sick-room, wheel-chair or bed . . . and as we talk with them in prayer . . . as they communicate with us and on our behalf . . . we get to know them . . . a little more each day until, as so many have discovered, a personal intimacy develops which makes for an awareness of their presence and friendship. which is all very real.

Here, then, are just a few of the saints waiting, now, for your approach . . .

BLESSED LYDWINA never left her bed for the last thirty years of her life; for more than twenty of them she was unable to keep down any food, and her diseases, one biographer relates, ‘are so distressing as to be almost unreadable.’

Before she became permanently bedridden at the age of sixteen, her life, almost from the day she was born into a poor family at Scheidam in Holland on Palm Sunday, 1380, seemed to be one illness after another.

Lydwina’s body was so racked with pain, and for such prolonged periods, that it would be difficult to believe had it not been recorded by Thomas a Kempis and others of like truthfulness who knew her personally.

Many of us are inclined to think of saints as being different from the rest of us,but Blessed Lydwina’s example demonstrates that we are all meant to be saints, and that the way there begins with firmly grasping the fact that pain, disease, infirmities, suffering, can come to us only with God’s permission. If we can but grasp that in being thus tested beyond the norm-’as gold in the furnace he hath proved them’ (Wis 3.6)-suffering suddenly makes sense; we know its value, we understand the tremendous depth of eternal promise in, for instance, St John Chrysostom’s: ‘If you suffer thankfully your profit will increase in proportion to the greatness of what you suffer.’

Where to begin?

‘We must begin with patience and detachment,’ says St Bernard, ‘and at last we shall learn’ to love the sufferings which liken us to the Passion of our Redeemer.’

We must, in practice, make conscious effort to desire holiness. In prayer, we invite graces ‘To will is for us-to accomplish is for God’-and it is in this effort of will that our transformation will begin.

Lydwina was in her teens when she first made this effort. First she made the decision to stop complaining, then she asked her parish priest to visit her. They talked about our Lord: she learned the real meaning of ‘offering our suffering to Christ’ -as can we all with a little perseverance. Soon she was receiving Holy Communion and confessing almost daily, and for her last twenty years, when she could swallow no food, the Eucharist was her only nourishment.

She reached the level of living for Christ where it is no longer possible to suffer, and, as he will with all sufferers who thus dispose themselves, Christ grew in her. People around saw the change in her. Her bare, impoverished room in her parents’ frugal cottage became a place of joy. Her words became gentle, full of charity and Christ’s values, and those who had once been harsh towards her progressively turned to her for comfort and advice.

This is promised to all of us who follow her example. In Lydwina’s case she went on to attain exceptional spiritual heights, experiencing visions and sometimes rising to the level of spiritual ecstasy. Towards the end of her time on earth, crowds were queueing to consult her. She was venerated long after she had gone to heaven, and the son of one of her doctors built a hospital on the site of her cottage.

Lydwina’s example assures us that no special gifts or circumstances are required, and a good way to begin is with our parish priest. The initial effort of prayer and willed desire must come from us, and God will do the rest.

ST CAMILLUS DE LELLIS is another who demonstrates that many saints are no different from the rest of us when they start out-having no special advantages or sense of vocation.

Camillus suffered an obstinate disease in his leg which caused a painful deterioration of health for thirty years, terminating with his death in 1614, but his youth and early manhood were as ‘worldly’ as can be, with no interest in our Lord beyond the impious routines of a nominal Catholic.

His family were of the Italian nobility, and in his youth Camillus lived the self-indulgent life of the aristocracy of the time. He left home when he was seventeen to join an army, and he took part in the business of killing and maiming with neither care nor mercy until he was ignominously discharged after four years.

He was very big physically, very strong and constantly in trouble because of a violent temper, which combined with debts incurred by his passion for heavy gambling to place him in disgrace-even by army standards!

I do not think many of us can be such unpromising material for sainthood as that-and yet, in a sense, it proved a case of being shown the world that he might reject it.

Beneath his dislikeable character he had a fine brain and profound mind and, like many before him and since, he came to realize the limitations and futility of values confined to life on earth. Inevitably, his gropings for the reason and purpose of life led him to God, and once he had made his choice God led him to a confessor-just as the impulses of the Holy Spirit have arranged our own particular parish priest, hospital chaplain, or religious as our confessor. With the help of his confessor, Camillus converted from passive to active Catholicism and progressively his passionate nature became a singular zeal for Christ Crucified.

He prayed for graces and he worked on his ‘natural’ inclinations by the means common to us all: prayer, desire for holiness, spiritual reading, and frequent use of the Sacraments.

Three times he tried to abandon himself completely to Christ by entering the Capuchin novitiate, but his disease got worse and he left to go for medical treatment in Rome.

He spent a long time in hospital, and it was largely in his sickbed that his spiritual progress was made. He progressively became gentler, developed patience, and learned to make his suffering a means of uniting himself with Christ. He worked hard at seeing the good in all men, which led to him seeking and finding Christ in the patients around him. And as his love for them grew, so did his concern for their welfare.

A lack of love for their charges by the nurses and paid chaplains of the time resolved Camillus to form an Order devoted to help the sick in the spirit of Christ’s love.

When he was well enough to leave the hospital, although his suffering from the disease continued, he studied for the priesthood (and was ordained by the English Bishop Goldwell, who was spending a short time in Rome). After initial trials and setbacks, the first congregation of the Servants of the Sick was confirmed by Pope Pius V in 1586.

Camillus set a standard of devotion which saw his community being called to hospitals and houses at all hours, day and night. His gentleness and devotion were as though each patient was Christ in his pain—as indeed each patient was, to Camillus. ‘He suffered with them, consoled them and prayed with them,’ one biographer writes . . . and he is waiting now, this minute, to do just that with those of us who approach him in prayer.

ST PAUL of THE CROSS was racked with bodily pain through the last fifty of his eighty-one years of life, and he so completely associated his sufferings with Christ’s that his joy in Christ quickly grew to outshine his suffering.

As a child of devout middle-class parents in their home in northern Italy, he and his younger brother, John Baptist, had been well taught by their mother what we must all learn if we are to lose our pains in the balm of God’s love: namely, that by accepting our pains, discomforts, slights, and sufferings as being God’s will for us, we are, in effect, relieving Christ of this pain, this discomfort, this slight, this suffering. It is as though we are actually present as the Son of Man-bleeding, tired, weak, and rejected—is lumbering that heavy cross up that hill to Calvary. We are there; we go out from the crowd and we put ourselves under that heavy timber and take the weight. How relieved, with what thankful love, his haggard face looks to us, and what promise in his tired eyes! That is one way to see the surges of pain we feel: they are those rough corners of that heavy wood causing our hurt-and great indeed will be our reward from him whose suffering we are thus taking upon ourselves.

This is one way of looking at ‘Suffer with Christ and for Christ if you would reign with Christ,’ as the Imitation of Christ puts it. It needs, as often as the priest can visit, the strength and nourishment of frequent Holy Communion, prayer which becomes a life of prayer, and as the soul thus enlarges, so the pain and the suffering diminish . . . as it did with Paul of the Cross.

His offering of his pain to God began when he was over thirty years old. The pains that were to gnaw at him for fifty years were planted when he was serving as a soldier in the army into which he enlisted in 1714. But also planted in him were the seeds of hunger for holiness.

He came back from crusading against the Turks and left the army in 1720 in compliance with a growing compulsion to give himself wholly to influencing people in Christ’s way.

As a layman, even before he was ordained priest, he began to preach the Passion, and his love of the crucified Jesus so grew that the impulses of the Holy Spirit-it is said in vivid visions-led him to the work of founding a congregation devoted to Our Lord’s sufferings.

The Order is today known as the Passionists.

But it was not easy.

Paul of the Cross was forever saying ‘God does us great honour when he ordains that we should tread the same road which was trodden by his only-begotten Son- the road of suffering-and he was given opportunities beyond his bodily pains to make those words meaningful. His trust in God was subjected to severe trials. He had been shown clearly by the Holy Spirit that he was required to form an Order, but the Pope would not give him an audience. The men he gathered to form a founding congregation all deserted him-with the single exception of his brother, John Baptist. The sense of defeat and discouragement on top of his physical sufferings must have been almost unbearable, but Paul accepted it as God’s sign that he was not yet holy enough, and he and his brother persevered by withdrawing to a lonely place to live a life of prayer, fasting, and penance.

They lived thus, as hermits, for seventeen years, emerging only occasionally to preach the Passion. Then, at last, God rewarded their constancy, and moved his Pope to give approbation for the Order. The first house of the Rule was set up on the spot where the two brothers had lived as hermits, at Monte Argentario, and the Order, as we know, flourished on after Paul died-in Rome, as the gospel Passion was being read to him, in 1775.

Through patience, perseverance, prayer, the help and intercession of his chosen saints, and frequent reception of the Eucharist, Paul of the Cross so grew in love of Christ that he transcended bodily suffering, and ‘lived by the Spirit.’ (Gal 5.16–26).

He did nothing that we cannot do . . . deliberate effort to aspire to being inspired, as the apostle Paul puts it. ‘May you be strengthened with all power, according to his glorious might, for all endurance and patience with joy, giving thanks to the Father, who has qualified us to share in the inheritance of the saints in light. He has delivered us from the dominion of darkness and transferred us to the kingdom of his beloved Son.’ (Col. 1. 11–13).

The Real Presence of Christ in the Sacrament of Holy Communion was the only friend one of our saints had for most of her patient, persevering, suffering life. ST GERMAINE of PIBRAC knew it all: the pains of prolonged illness, accompanied by the neglect and thoughtlessness of others to a degree that must move the hardest heart to pity.

Poor, dear little Germaine! What an awful life she did have. And yet, she showed us all the way to accept all that comes our way with that gentle patience which promises such rewards when our life is completed.

Germaine was born at Pibrac in France in 1579, the only daughter of a farm labourer by the name of Cousin. Baby Cousin was born with a withered right hand, and her health was frail from the beginning.

While she was still an infant, her mother died and the child soon had a stepmother who was despicably cruel to her: never allowing her to play with her stepbrothers or sisters, forever scolding, hitting, and making the sick little girl do scullery and other chores; carrying food to meals but never being allowed to eat with the family, given only what was left over. and some days nothing at all. For a bed she had straw on a stone floor under some stairs, and even this she was made to earn by going out to the fields in all weathers to tend the flocks.

To the unhappiness of her home was added the cruelty of the villagers. who ridiculed her for her deformity and constant illnesses.

Germaine shows us that nothing need be a deterrent to turning our suffering into a vocation . . . by inviting God’s graces through prayer and conscious effort to desire holiness; by making room for graces by ousting such ‘natural’ inclinations as resentment, envy, self-pity, or complaint. It is thus that, like Germaine, we go on to grow in Christ. And as he grew in her, together they transcended the sickness of her body and the misery of her surroundings.

By the time she was in her early teens, the attitude of the villagers began to change. The unhappiness and cruelties of her home and the pains and illnesses of her body were with her all her life, but to the villagers her gentleness and her readiness to do all she could to be of help to them and surely, their ‘sensing’ of Christ within her melted their derisive attitude and, as the Roman Missal so beautifully puts it: ‘The crown of tribulation has blossomed into a diadem of glory and a garland of joy.’

Germaine’s ‘garland of joy’ was the children who, in time, gathered round her to listen as she told them of Christ and his mother and his saints, and her gentle goodness was something the children never forgot.

In her twentytwo years she learned something that is very precious in God’s sight. She learned patience and perseverance in suffering for Christ’s sake. While on earth the effort she made won for her the gifts of spiritual wisdom and understanding, and in Heaven now she can the better help us rise above our sufferings . . . help us to understand that God, through his apostle Paul, is addressing us personally when he says: ‘God is at work in you . . . Do all things without grumbling or questioning.’ (Phil 2.13–14).

This could well be our daily meditation. It has great depth and it gives great strength and promise, and as we advance in the understanding of it so too will we come to know why so many of the saints not only joyfully bore their diseases and disabilities, pains and handicaps, but begged God to send them more suffering . . .

When ST JOHN OF THE CROSS-whose sufferings went far beyond sickness and bodily pain to the ultimate human wretchedness of prolonged spiritual aridity-was asked in a vision by our Lord,’John, what shall I give you for all you have given me?’ the saint promptly answered, ‘Lord, to suffer and be ill-treated for your sake.’

ST VERONICA GIULIANI, whose whole life was one long succession of sufferings from the Five Wounds, the stigmata, which persisted year after year and caused her great pain, had visions of Our Lord carrying his cross; offering her the cup of his sufferings. She gladly accepted, and henceforth never tired of exclaiming:

‘Blessed be God! Everything seems little that is suffered for his love. Blessed be the simple cross! Blessed be pure suffering!’

ST MARY MAGDALEN DEI PAZZI, who at the age of eighteen took as her motto ‘Let me suffer or let me die,’ and henceforth did suffer extremely, said: ‘The experience of pain is something so fine and precious that the divine Word, who knew all the joys of Paradise but was not clothed with this ornament of sorrow, came down from Heaven to seek it upon earth.’

Or did you know that the great-spirited ST TERESA OF AVILA did her immense work of restoring the Carmelites to the original discipline and observances (which survive today in the Order of Discalced Carmelites) in the face of both the fierce opposition of the lax members of the Order and of her own body’s constant illness? For more than twenty years she could not keep down any food until late in the day, and had to make herself sick with a feather at night so that she could take Holy Communion in the morning. And, she writes in her ‘Life”—‘I think I am never quite free, either, from aches and pains, which are sometimes very severe, especially around the heart . . . fainting fits, which were at one time continuous . . . paralysis . . . attacks of fever that I used to have so often.

‘But I take my complaints so lightly now that often I rejoice in them, believing that the Lord is in some way served by them.’

The medicine she recommends is constant mental prayer: ‘So long as the soul is a loving one it is always possible to pray by offering up the distraction itself and remembering him for whom we are suffering it. At the same time we must resign ourselves to it . . . With a little care we may find great blessings at times when the Lord sends us trials . . . ‘

ST JOHN CHRYSOSTOM said: ‘You say you cannot be silent when stung by pain. I would not have you silent. I wish you to give thanks. It is this which repels Satan and brings you help from God.’

ST ARCADIUS, whose physical sufferings reached the extreme limits of sheer agony, kept repeating, ‘Lord, teach me your wisdom,’ and to the people he said: ‘All that I suffer is nothing. If only you knew the God who strengthens me. I am glad to suffer for him, whose love cannot grow cold. I shall soon be with him forever.’

ST MARGARET OF CORTONA, in penance for an earlier life of shame, punished herself so severely by fast, self-denial, and heavy work that her withered body suffered continuously from sores and the cold. But it did not bother her. ‘Her soul was afire with divine love’ . . . and on and on, there is no end to the saints who besought God to give them what we have been given-disease, sickness, deformities, pain, suffering.

WHY?

It is something which all who persevere in trying to abandon themselves to God, in directing every effort to being what Christ asks us to be, are brought to understand-and which no man can understand until he has set his course towards living in, and with, and for Christ.

It is loving God so that we want to give him something. When you meditate on it you inevitably realize that there is precious little we can give God. He owns it all. We have our effort to give. We have restraints to give. Look where you will, there is little else but effort and restraint which really comes from us. We have just one other thing to give, and that is the greatest gift of all-thankfulness to God for all things, especially for pain and suffering. You cannot offer any sacrifice so pleasing to him.

‘Present tribulation is the way to glory-the way to the kingdom,’ says St Bernard.

HOW DO WE GO ABOUT IT?

We must begin with a cleancut decision to live only for God. ‘Live in the world,’ says St John of the Cross, ‘as if

God and your soul only were in it.’

Our manual for daily living is the New Testament and, surely, the Imitation of Christ. Thus are we able to ask ourselves of each action, each thought, ‘Is this what Christ wants?’ Love of Christ grows as we meditate on his life. Thus we exert restraint in overcoming that in us which is displeasing to Him, and effort in further developing that which is desirable.

We must begin with patience -and we must cultivate detachment. We need help, and we receive it from our saints, from the Holy Spirit in response to our prayer, from the cleansing and the spiritual induction we receive in the Sacrament of Penance, and, above all else, from the growth of Christ in us, nurtured and nourished by frequent reception of the Holy Eucharist.

At last we shall learn to love the sufferings which liken us to the Passion of Our Lord and our God, and we shall say with St Bonaventure: ‘If we have you, O Christ, what more do we need? Are you not enough for him who loves?’

A tall order? Well. I personally know more than a dozen people, including those who started from the bleak, near-total ignorance of atheism or the murky gloom of agnosticism, who have reached remarkable levels of spiritual enlightenment. It is not just a change or a difference that has appeared in them. It is, as Our Lord promised, complete and total rebirth.

They demonstrate that what we are about is not something to be wandered into. What is required from us is a wrench, a distinct committal. And ‘he who endures to the end will be saved.’ (Mt 24.13).

In addition to the saints, we have the guaranteed help of Our Lady, of whom the Memorare promises ‘that it is a thing unheard of that anyone ever had recourse to your protection, implored your help, or sought your intercession, and was left forsaken.’ And of St Joseph, of whom the great St Teresa of Avila promises: ‘I do not remember to this day ever having asked him for anything that he did not grant me . . . I wish that I could persuade everyone to venerate this glorious saint, for I have great experience of the blessings that he obtains from God . . . he gives very real help to the souls who commend themselves to him.’

ST JOHN VIANNEY said: ‘Private prayer is like straw scattered about: if you set it on fire it makes a lot of little flames. But if these straws be gathered into a bundle and lit, you get a mighty fire blazing in the sky. Public prayer is like that.’

We, the house-bound, the bedridden, the chairbound., cannot get to a church . . . but we can bring all our ‘little straws’ together by making it the unyielding rule of our day that we all pray at the same time every day. What better than the greatest prayer of all time-that given us by the Son of Man personally?

At the stroke of noon every day, let us begin with ‘Our Father . . . ‘, followed by the Memorare, and concluded by a little meditation on Our Lord’s Passion and a chat with our chosen saint(s).

You can be certain that others are doing exactly what you are doing at that exact time, and our ‘little straws’ are a mighty fire of prayer going up to our God in a glorious PRAYER OF THE SICK.

********

Sanctifying Pregnancy

IN THE LIGHT OF THE JOYFUL MYSTERIES OF THE ROSARY

MARGARET PRICE

INDEX

This booklet stands in striking contrast to much that one sees in print on the subject of childbearing and motherhood in the secularized civilizations of our day. In its pages the child is not declared “unwanted.” Nor are the tasks of the mother in any way played down.

To the contrary, the child is set forth for all that God meant him to be, and the role of mother is shown with all the beauty that the light of another world reflects upon her. Its pages are replete with Christian gems of thought that cannot but inspire the reader with a profound sense of the glory and dignity of motherhood as planned by God and as viewed by the Church.

A particularly happy feature of the booklet is the arrangement of its content under the five Joyful Mysteries of the Rosary. As a result there is a constant reference to the incidents in the life of the Mother of God. This cannot but encourage and console the Christian mother in her tasks. It will give both her and mothers-to-be the profound sense of respect for the high ideals of Christian motherhood that alone is becoming the true child of Mary.

Furthermore, it will prepare expectant mothers fully to appreciate the meaning of the following words which the minister of Holy Mother Church will say over her in the Blessing after Childbirth:

“Almighty, everlasting God, who by the child-bearing of the Blessed Virgin Mary, hast for Thy faithful turned the pains of child-bearing into joy, look with kindness on this Thy servant, who comes rejoicing to Thy holy temple to give thanks to Thee, and grant that after this life she and her child may, by the merits and intercession of the Blessed Virgin Mary, attain to the joys of everlasting life. Through Christ our Lord.”

The publication is a timely one, and deserves to be most widely circulated. Those who peruse it are certain to be influenced by it. The more widely it will be read, the more will it contribute to the building of a better and more Christian world.

REV. EDGAR SCHMIEDELER, O.S.B., PH.D. DIRECTOR, FAMILY LIFE BUREAU, N.C.W.C

INTRODUCTION

M uch is being written in the press of today on “Motherhood.” Almost every issue of the typical “woman’s magazine” has at least one article on the subject.

Although these articles range from popularly scientific treatises on childbirth or prenatal care to frivolous advice on the expectant mother’s wardrobe, they have for the most part one thing in common-their only concern is with the purely bodily or biological aspects of pregnancy. Rarely does one find a single hint or suggestion of the fact that, besides its purely physical character, the period of approaching motherhood is above all else a time of spiritual awakening and maturing.

Even our Catholic press, which wages such a relentless fight against the evils of birth control, might offer us more of a positive nature on the subject.

Perhaps it is because no one who has not herself sensed this unity with God which comes with motherhood can speak of it, yet it is natural that Christian mothers should be reluctant to reveal so sacred an experience. Today, however, when Satan’s sales-ladies roam the country and are seconded by the newspapers, the radio, the women’s magazines, even the charming women in the next apartment-all preaching the advantages of birth control and planned parenthood-it is time we speak our hearts.

Our young women should be encouraged to think of pregnancy not as nine months of shapeless clothes, swollen feet, in a word, a period which must be endured-but rather as nine months of very close, beautiful kinship with Almighty God. When one realizes she is to be a mother, what new meaning dawns in that oft repeated catechism question, “Where is God?” She knows that God has indeed been very close to her, that He has breathed an immortal soul into the minute particle of life she now carries beneath her heart. She cannot feel other than close to Him!

When she understands that she is sharing with God some small part of His great work of creation, then she is able to see that she, too, must accept a small part of His cross in the work of Redemption. That is done by willingly and cheerfully accepting the sacrifice, discomfort, and even suffering that her pregnancy makes necessary.

For many a girl, it may be the first time she has had to deny herself for the sake of another. Self-denial is not easy, yet it brings great compensation when accepted for love.

By meditating on the Joyful Mysteries of the Rosary in the following chapters, let us seek to discover how the period of pregnancy can be sanctified by patterning it on that of the Mother of mothers-the Blessed Virgin Mary.

First Mystery

The Annunciation

YOUR VOCATION IN LIFE

The last chapters of The Seven Storey Mountain by Thomas Merton gives us a fascinating account of daily life in a Trappist monastery. For many weeks this book, which is an autobiographical account of a soul’s search for contentment, headed the best seller lists. The world was puzzled to learn from it that these men, who through the centuries have denied themselves many legitimate pleasures, have known in fullest measure the only true happiness life can offer.

One reviewer stated that he found it more than in teresting because it dealt “not with what happens to a man, but with what happens inside him- that is, inside his soul.”

Perhaps this seems a far cry from our original subject. It is indeed a great distance in every sense of the word from the quiet of Gethsemani Abbey to your own fireside; but, sometimes by stepping back a little we face a problem from a new angle and thus gain a clearer perception of it.

Just as Thomas Merton discerned that God had a very definite plan for him which led him through many adventures to the peaceful life of a Trappist- so too, God has a plan for you. The fact is that your being pregnant, your raising a family, is the means God is giving you to save your soul and to assist in the spread of His kingdom. Even at this moment He is looking with favor and love upon the child you bear within you because it is His “son” by creation and will be much more so by the grace of Baptism which is in store for him.

Motherhood is a vocation just as truly as is Thomas Merton’s way of life. But like any other vocation, it requires patience, perseverance, and a willingness to serve.

Perhaps you, like many other girls, have not thought of marriage and motherhood in this serious light. Yet it must be so thought of if you are to be a happy and holy mother- and you wish to be both. Now in these months of “shadow” after the honeymoon, you will have time to think and pray and prepare yourself. You will have to exercise some self-discipline, certainly; but love will make it worth doing.

It follows, then, that when the doctor tells you, “no sweets, no salt” or whatever other advice fits your particular needs, you will not assume the air of a “martyr to duty” and make life miserable for yourself and all around you; on the contrary you will have every reason to be happy! Think each day that you and God are working together on a wonderful project. Be proud of the fact that your body has become a sanctuary in which you are sheltering and nurturing an immortal soul.

Your pregnancy is a real privilege which many women have been denied. Do not feel that your reward comes only at the end, with the birth of your child; rather, it is with you constantly if you live each day as Mary lived it. Naturally you will live in joyful anticipation, but all through the nine months, cherish each day of this very close relationship with God.

For the woman who is with child, the Rosary should take on a new and intimate meaning-for in a very small and humble way she is sharing some of Mary’s experiences.

God could have chosen to send His divine Son into this world in many ways; but instead He chose to have Him begin life just as all mankind—cradled beneath the heart of a woman. Indeed in Mary, not only motherhood, but pregnancy was sanctified for all time. To Mary alone was given the singular privilege of being the Mother of the Son of God, but all Catholic mothers have the dignity of being mothers of the sons of God.

Why not dedicate, then, in a special manner these months of your life to Mary? As you go about your home performing the routine tasks that now, perhaps, seem so burdensome, remember that Mary kept house for Joseph during her months of waiting. Turn to her for a philosophy of life. Her beautiful words of joy in the Magnificat-sung in thankful recognition for carrying Christ in her womb-should become a part of your daily prayer during your months of waiting.

THE MAGNIFICAT

My soul magnifies the Lord, * and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior,

Because he has regarded the lowliness of his handmaid, * for, behold, henceforth all generations shall call me blessed,

Because he who is mighty has done great things for me, * and holy is his name;

And for generation upon generation in his mercy, to those who fear him.

He has shown might with his arm; he has scattered the proud in the conceit of their heart.

He has put down the mighty from their thrones and has exalted the lowly.

He has filled the hungry with good things * and the rich he has sent away empty.

He has given help to Israel, his servant, * mindful of his mercy

Even as he promised to our fathers- * toward Abraham and his descendants forever.

(Luke 1:46–55)

Another and very important means of grace for the expectant mother is the Church’s official blessing of a woman in pregnancy. The complete text of the blessing is given on page 10.

Expectant mothers should ask their pastors for this blessing, and should also read and meditate on it often during this time, especially when the time of birth draws near. It will be a great source of comfort to an expectant mother to be reminded how tenderly and solicitously Holy Mother Church thinks of and prays for her.

Since this blessing is little known to many Catholic women, an excellent project for a parish woman’s organization would be to acquaint more women with it. Possibly they could arrange to have it administered following one of the regularly scheduled evening services, preferably on or near one of the feasts commemorating Our Lady’s Maternity- such as the Annunciation, March 25; the Visitation, July 2; the Maternity of Mary, October 11; the Expectation, December 18; the Nativity, December 25; or the Purification, February 2.

Over and above the blessing it would bestow, it would awaken in women a real awareness of the spiritual significance of motherhood.

Think, too, of its fine effect on the young girls who might happen to be present. Many of them grow into womanhood and even marry with little understanding of the dignity of bearing a child. For many of them, the mannequin look, the sleek line, is their ideal. They worship at the altar of GLAMOUR. We should do all in our power to instill a Christian attitude on this subject from the days of early adolescence.

Second Mystery

The Visitation

THE AWAKENING

About midway through your pregnancy you have the privilege of experiencing another of God’s mir acles. The tiny creature you have nurtured for four and a half or five months of life, has grown and developed to a point where movement is possible, and is now making its first faint stirrings.

This is, indeed, a very important milestone in your period of approaching motherhood. The child is growing. It needs more room-the pretty dresses, the smartly tailored suits in your wardrobe must be laid aside. But just as surely as your waistline expands, so too, will the abundance of grace within your heart, if all this is offered to Jesus through Mary.

At this point in your pregnancy it might be well to recall that Our Lord’s first miracle, while on earth, was actually performed while He was still in His Mother’s womb. As the Gospel tells us: “Now in those days Mary arose and went with haste into the hill country to a town of Juda. And she entered the house of Zachary and saluted Elizabeth. And it came to pass, when Elizabeth heard the greeting of Mary, that the babe in her womb leapt. And Elizabeth was filled with the Holy Spirit, and cried out with a loud voice saying: Blessed art thou among women and blessed is the fruit of thy womb!”

Mary’s journey to visit Elizabeth when she learned that Elizabeth was to become a mother shows not only how solicitous she wasfor her cousin’s welfare, but also her natural desire to share the joy of her own approaching motherhood with one whose lifetime of prayer for the gift of a child in her womb had at last been answered. Isn’t it only reasonable, then, to assume that she takes a personal interest also in you, especially if you are reverent and humble as Elizabeth must have been?

Turn to her often, then, during the months to come, not only for consolation and for help, but for the sharing of your joy: for Mary of the Visitation is essentially a joyful Mary. As your baby’s movements within you make you conscious of its presence, say the Memorare

Remember, O most gracious Virgin Mary, that never was it known that anyone who fled to thy protection, implored thy help, and sought thy intercession, was left unaided. Inspired with this confidence, I fly unto thee, O Virgin of Virgins, my Mother! To thee I come, before thee I stand, sinful and sorrowful. O Mother of the Word incarnate, despise not my petitions, but in thy mercy hear and answer me. Amen.

If you do not already know this beautiful prayer from memory, have several copies about your home -perhaps one in the kitchen, one near the corner where you iron, one on your light stand-until the words come readily to mind. Then, when that tiny hand or foot moves within you wherever you are-riding on a bus, waiting on the doctor’s examining table, or even being aroused from sleep by it-your heart will turn instinctively to Mary. You will put all your trust in her, confident that she will not fail you.

At this time it is important for you to follow the advice the doctor gives you to insure your own health and that of your child. Put aside your personal aversions to certain foods if he claims they are essential.

If he advocates moderate exercise, take it. Why not walk over to morning Mass instead of taking an aimless stroll? Couldn’t it be within the realm of the possible that just as your child’s bodily health is affected by your pre-natal diet, so too, your unborn child’s spiritual conditioning may begin long before birth? What a rich heritage the baby has whose mother frequently receives Our Lord in Holy Communion and keeps close to Our Lady while her child grows within her!

Third Mystery

The Nativity

THE BIRTH OF YOUR CHILD

All through the months of your pregnancy your probable date of delivery stands out and looms ahead of you as the big coming event. All else is subordinate to this, and rightly so. Everything is mentally dated B.B.C. (before baby comes) or A.B.C. (after baby comes). The layette you are preparing, the crib your husband is painting, the frilly white curtains-all must be in readiness by this magic date.

But stop now for a minute, and think, are you so completely concerned in making these material preparations that you have lost sight of the deep spiritual significance of the main event? Are you preparing for it as many thoughtless people prepare for Christmas-with Rudolph the reindeer, Frosty the Snowman, tinsel and glitter-but no Christ Child?

Bearing a child is truly a holy act if it is done in cooperation with God. It seems only reasonable then that much of your preparation should be of a spiritual nature. At least you should think through the situation and try to formulate some Christ-like attitudes toward the day or hours preceding the de-livery of your child.

Perhaps the first thing you should remember is that frequently the baby is not born on the exact day or date you plan. Therefore, if your due date arrives and you experience none of the physical symptoms your physician has told you to look for, BE PATIENT! In most cases, medical men tell us it simply means that your baby has not come to term. In other words, it needs a few more days or possibly a week or two more of tender, loving care within your body before it is ready to start life on its own.

If you think of it in these terms -difficult as the added days may be-you will not fuss or fume to be relieved of your burden. You have waited nine months, surely you can wait a little longer when you realize it may mean a much better start in life for your baby. Think: God is giving you a few more days to be completely ready for the birth of your child.

Relax, take things a little easier, pray your rosary more devoutly. The Church urges us to prepare for all the important events of our life by prayer. Remember the retreat you made before the reception of First Holy Communion and before receiving the sacrament of Confirmation. An actual retreat at this time is out of the question, but you could enter into the spirit of one-by receiving the sacraments with your husband more frequently during these final days of waiting, by saying a few extra prayers together, and perhaps by some spiritual reading and meditation.

Certainly, this is a more Christ-like way of spending the final days of your confinement than in bitterness, complaining, and self-pity-which in the end will only leave you tired out and exhausted.

The last days before the birth of our Blessed Lord were trying and difficult for Mary, His Mother. She was forced to make the long and arduous journey from Nazareth to Bethlehem with her husband, riding a donkey by day, camping with the caravan by night. She understands your feelings and your problems. Ask her during these last days to help you.

Once you realize that your baby is on its way-don’t get panicky! A few contractions simply mean that labor is beginning. It is generally a rather slow process with the first baby. Call your physician and follow his instructions.

If it can be arranged, plan ahead so that your husband will be able to take you to the hospital and stay with you during the hours to come. The modern trend is toward welcoming husbands in the labor rooms. It is his privilege to be with you. If he realizes how very important it is for you to re-main relaxed and reassured at this time, he will gladly follow the suggestions offered by the sisters and nurses in charge of the floor. Those big hands of his which you admired throwing forward passes on the football field, or engaged in some other equally masculine activity, will prove equally proficient at massaging the tired muscles of your back.

Don’t shut him out of your life at this time when you really need him. Let him know that his presence is a real help to you. Psychologists tell us that this will bring you closer together than a second honeymoon in Hawaii.

As time progresses, keep your rosary in your hand. The feel of the beads between your fingers will do much to relax you. The modern theory of childbirth is that the more completely relaxed you are during this first stage of labour when the womb is dilating (in other words, when nature is slowly opening the door of the little room where your child has lived), the less discomfort you will feel.

The very words of the Hail Mary and Our Father, said slowly and fervently, will strengthen you and give you faith. For when you say,

Our Father, Who art in heaven, Hallowed be Thy Name: you are expressing your trust in God who created the infant you are at this moment bringing into the world and who is allowing you in a very humble way to share with Him the joys of creation.

Thy kingdom come. Realize that this child you are bearing, after it is baptized, will add one more precious soul to God’s kingdom.

Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven. Look at your crucifix as you say this part of the prayer. Have faith that the good God who hung for, three hours on the cross will see you through this very natural, beautiful-but sometimes trying-experience, and will give you the patience to do His will now at this moment and during the hours ahead.

Give us this day our daily bread. Ask our Lord to give you the strength and courage you need for this delivery. Ask Him to watch over your baby, to guard and guide it on its journey into this world.

And forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us. Beg forgiveness for the sins of your past life and offer all your discomfort at this moment in atonement for them. Tell our Blessed Lord how very much you wish to start life anew as you assume your new role in life-that of a mother.

And lead us not into temptation but deliver us from all evil. Pray that the good God who blessed motherhood for all time by preserving His own Mother free from all sin, will help you and all mothers to overcome temptation- especially, at the moment, the temptations of fear, discouragement, and impatience; and that He will make you strong and worthy of the wonderful title of Christian Mother.

As the hour draws near for the birth of your child, the tempo of the work increases. You will be taken to the delivery room where a whole group has gathered-your own physician, the sister in charge of the floor, the nurses, the anaesthetist. They are all present for just one purpose: to assist you at the delivery of your child. All have been trained to work together as a team. They have gone through this scene many times-only you, the leading lady change with each delivery.

Try to cooperate with their suggestions and requests; it will make things easier for you and better for the baby. Hard work and perseverance are expected of you at this stage. You will hear them say, “Work harder,” “Keep working,” “Now push once again,” until you think these words will be indelibly written in your memory.

All this is a part of God’s plan. It is His wonderful way of bringing a new life into the world.

“A woman

About to give birth has sorrow

Because her hour has come.

But when she has brought forth the child,

She no longer remembers the anguish

For her joy

That a man is born into the world.”

How true indeed were those words of our Lord! What joy will overflow your heart when you hear the wondrous cry of your new-born child. All else is indeed forgotten when you look for the first time at this beautiful creature which you have earned the right to call your own child. How happy you and your husband will be when you receive into your arms this precious bundle-a part of you, a part of him-a soul fresh from the hand of Almighty God.

All true love tends to be creative, it seeks an outward expression of its overflowing. This child is an expression of your love for one another, and through it God has truly blessed you by giving you the privilege of parenthood.

Fourth Mystery

Presenting Jesus in the Temple

WE PREPARE FOR BABY’S BAPTISM

Let us turn once again to the Joyful Mysteries of the Rosary which during the past months should have become so much a part of your spiritual life. The fourth mystery commemorates the presentation of the Child Jesus in the temple. Our Blessed Lady, according to the Jewish custom, brought her Infant to the place of religious worship, the temple, and symbolically offered Him back to God.

Like Mary, you too must plan to bring your child to the church, to receive the sacrament of Baptism. This day must not be delayed for trivial reasons. A fear of baby catching a cold or a slight siege of colic are surely not justifiable excuses for unduly long postponing the administration of this sacrament.

This is your first serious obligation as a parent. Remember that in your hands rests the responsibility for your child’s soul! So be willing to cooperate with the Holy Spirit by arranging for Baptism at the earliest possible date.

You anxiously counted the days and looked forward to his physical birth. Anticipate with even more eagerness his spiritual birth. For just as certainly as a feeling of happiness and accomplishment filled your heart on the day your child was born, so too will an even deeper sense of satisfaction and abiding joy be yours the day he receives the gift of eternal life in the sacrament of Baptism.

Since this is such an important event in the life of your baby, it is only right that you should make some serious and thoughtful plans for this day-the day of his birth into God’s own family. Let’s call this phase of your preparations for baby’s coming, “preparing a spiritual layette.”

The first item which you will wish to include is a Baptismal Robe. By this we are not referring to the beautiful baptismal dresses that are handed down in many families. This is a lovely custom, and if such an heirloom is available in your family, you will, no doubt, be proud to use it. But when we use the term, Baptismal Robe, we mean, rather, the square of white linen used by the priest in the administration of the sacrament.

In the early days of the Church, the sacrament of Baptism was usually given by immersion. As the newly baptized stepped from the font he was presented with a white baptismal robe, symbolic of his newly granted innocence. Today, as the priest concludes the administration of the sacrament, he places on the head of the newly baptized a white linen square (which is permitted as a substitute for the robes used by the early Christians) and says:

“Receive this white garment,

And wear it unstained

To the judgment seat of our Lord Jesus Christ,

That you may have everlasting life.”

Many mothers wish to provide the priest with their child’s own white robe so that it may be kept as a lifetime reminder of this memorable spiritual occasion. On the anniversaries of Baptism and on First Communion day it can be used as a valuable object lesson to teach the dignity and duties of a child of God.

To avoid misunderstanding, it is well to point out that there is no one pattern for making the Baptismal Robe. The only requisite is that it be white. Some are made in the shape of loose fitting robes, and others are merely linen squares with the symbols of the seven sacraments embroidered on them. If the date of the baptism is added, a very complete spiritual record of the child’s growth in Christ may be kept.

The family may also wish to provide the Baptismal Candle which is used during the ceremony and is presented to the baptized (or to the sponsor) as the priest says:

“Receive this burning candle

And safeguard your baptism above reproach. Keep God’s commandments,

So that when the Lord comes to the marriage feast

You may meet Him in the halls of heaven With all His Saints,

And live with Him forever and ever.”

Theonly requirement for the candle is that it should be of bees” wax. For practical reasons, it is well to select a heavy one that can be lighted many times, since you will wish to burn it on baptismal anniversaries and on other occasions of spiritual significance in the life of your child. You might also try your hand with brush and oil paints to draw a red Chi Rho or some othersuitable symbol on the candle, to make it look more festive and “special.”

There are available today many birth and baptismal announcements of a truly Catholic character. These, too, should form a part of the spiritual layette, as should some of the excellent pamphlets on Baptism which explain the full meaning of the sacrament and of the many beautiful ceremonies surrounding its administration.” It is a very good idea, too, to secure copies of the Rite of Infant Baptism to present to all who plan to attend the ceremony.

Of course, it is expected that the mother herself should make every effort to be present. And a most fitting preparation for you and your husband would be to read together the text of the baptismal rite as well as those parts of the Holy Saturday liturgy that tell of the blessing of the Baptismal font, and the blessing of the paschal Candle. It will help you to realize more deeply your dignity as Christian parents.

In some parishes the Blessing for a Mother After Childbirth is given following Baptism. Ask your pastor if this is the custom in your parish. This is a beautiful means of offering thanks to God for the safe delivery of your child and should be sought by all Catholic mothers. The complete text of the Blessing for a Mother After Childbirth may be found on Page 11 .

Give serious care and thought to the selection of the man and woman who will serve as sponsors for your child. The first requisite is that they both be practical Catholics- people who in their own lives have shown a deep appreciation for their religion: for sponsors represent Mother Church herself. Remember that in the name of your child they must make a profession of faith, and that they must assume the responsibility for his education as a Catholic in the event that you are unable to do so.

Another important matter is that of selecting a name for the baby. By all means choose a saint’s name. Do not succumb to the rather common trend of naming a child for a current TV star, the girl at the corner beauty shop, or no one in particular. Give your child the name of a saint at Baptism, someone he may point to with pride, imitate in his daily life, and pray to later as his special intercessor in heaven.

Learn about your child’s saint at once, so that you may begin telling him about his patron as soon as he is old enough to enjoy stories. Many Catholic families follow the beautiful custom of naming the first daughter Mary and the first son Joseph.

A powerful truth for all parents to meditate on is that when your child receives this sacrament, he becomes a son of God, an heir of heaven, a very real and vital member of the Mystical Body of Christ. He is no longer your child to do with as you wish, but a very sacred trust from Almighty God. Just as Mary accepted as her lot in life the prophetic words of Simeon on the day the Child Jesus was presented in the temple, so too, you as parents, must willingly accept from Almighty God all the sacrifices, sorrows, and work that will be required of you as parents.

Our present Holy Father, Pope Pius XII, warns of the responsibilities of parenthood bestowed by the sacrament of Baptism in the following words:

“The souls of children given to their parents by God and consecrated in Baptism with the royal character of Christ are a sacred charge over which watches the jealous love of God. The same Christ who pronounced the words, “Suffer the little children to come to me,” for all H is mercy and goodness has nevertheless threatened with fearful evils all who give scandal to those so dear to His Heart.”

Fifth Mystery

Finding Jesus in the Temple

WHAT WILL YOUR CHILD BE LIKE AT TWELVE YEARS?

Let us imagine that you have in your living room a very badly worn chair which you are financially unable to replace, although it is an eye-sore to you and a continual source of embarrassment. But let us suppose, for the sake of a story, that one morning the mailman brings you a present from your mother-ten yards of beautiful hand-blocked linen. (She had probably noticed the chair on her last visit, but tactfully said nothing.) Although you are quite an amateur at sewing, you realize that her gift will make an attractive slip-cover for your problem chair.

Your first impulse certainly isn’t to rush for your scissors and start cutting. As a mature individual you sit back and visualize how you wish the chair to look when your project is completed-in other words you work out a plan. Perhaps you go to the library and borrow a book containing descriptions of how to make slip-covers, possibly you consult an expert, or you may try to purchase a pattern or at least make one by carefully pinning paper or the material itself meticulously to the chair.

There is nothing haphazard about your methods. You try by all the means at your command to do a good job. You do not assume a knowledge you do not possess. You do all in your power to protect the value of the material you are working with-possibly thirty or forty dollars-so that it may serve the purpose for which it was intended.

But pause now for a moment and think -have you made any plans for the early training of the child you will soon hold in your arms? God is entrusting into your hands a human soul, whom He loves with an infinite love. You and your husband are His “agents” in guarding and guiding it during its first all-important formative period.

Before you become lost in the rigidity of baby’s schedule- feedings every four hours, baths, formula, and laundry-to name just a few of the things that will make a mere mention of a fortyhour week look like child’s play- why not take the time to draw up a blue print of some of the things you hope to achieve during your baby’s infancy and childhood?

A thoughtful consideration of these things will not only give you a goal to strive for, but a deeper understanding of life that will see you through the trying first months of baby’s existence. For those first months are trying to the inexperienced mother. It is foolish to deny the fact. It is a tremendous jump, from the freedom which the average young American working girl, career woman, or student enjoys, to the restrictions motherhood as a profession requires. The lovable darling in the pink or blue bassinette makes you a virtual prisoner. An infant demands your almost constant attention.

Unless under unusual circumstances, you will consider it your own personal privilege, as well as your duty, to devote yourself to the unfolding of your child. Since Mary is our model, let us remember that she took care of her Child. It is unthinkable that she would have left Him to the care of strangers.

Some women today find frustration and drudgery in their role as mothers instead of peace and contentment. Perhaps this is due, in large part, to the fact that they look on their career of motherhood as more or less incidental. They feel it is their function according to nature, and forget it is their privilege in the order of grace. They fail to see that in bringing a child to its full perfection of body and spirit they are cooperating in a unique way with the Holy Spirit.

Since you are now on the very threshold of motherhood, it would be wise to give some serious thought to “Motherhood as a Profession.”

Perhaps in years past when our entire civilization followed a Christian pattern, when a large family was the rule, not the exception, when the home was the chief center of everyone’s life, such a study was not so much neglected. Through the natural course of events, girls acquired this knowledge since they did not frequently seek employment away from home at an early age. Today, however, nearly everyone will agree that we need to re-evaluate the role of the Catholic mother in the home.

The reader may be among those who have had the advantage of a course in Christian Marriage and Parenthood, or participation in Cana groups; but for those who have not, these days of comparative quiet before the baby comes will give an opportunity to do some helpful reading on the subject.

Perhaps our Holy Father’s four point program for sanctifying family life might profitably serve as a starting point for your own study.

Our Holy Father understands the full importance of teaching by example. Thus the first point he suggests is to build a common prayer life-in other words pray with your children. This habit of prayer is the most important habit which you as a parent have the privilege and obligation of teaching your children. Long before they are actually able to participate, let them be with you as you say the family rosary. What sweeter lullaby could you possibly find-as the baby takes the final feeding of the day-than the beautiful words of the Hail Mary?

Certainly our Blessed Mother will smile with pleasure on a family praying together. It will remind her of another home long ago in Nazareth and the Child she nursed to Manhood.

Meal prayers should also be said together and with reverence. The family’s consecration to the Sacred Heart ought to be renewed each First Friday. Family prayers to patron saints should all be a part of the prayer life in your home. By having the family, as a unit, take part in such simple ceremonies as the blessing and lighting of the Advent Wreath, pre-paring and blessing of the Christmas Crib, and the crowning of the Blessed Virgin Mary, deep and lasting impressions are made on the minds and hearts of your children.

Our Holy Father, Pope Pius XII, has repeatedly pointed out to parents that they must make religion a more integral part of their family life, that the future safety of the Church depends upon parents assuming this God-givenresponsibility.

That is why it is so important for parents to realize that the child’s fundamental training in religion must begin during the pre-school years. In fact, one authority has gone so far as to state that the sisters and priests in school and church can only water the seeds that the parents have implanted deeply in the character of the child during this most critical period).

The second point is to develop a common work life. Teach your children from their earliest years to help about the home. Let them learn from the time they are toddlers that the home is really a co-operative enterprise-that everyone must do his share. An extra pair of hands at the kitchen sink as you wash the dishes-ten sticky fingers at the mixing bowl-of course they’re a nuisance! But if you shoo the children off to play whenever they plead with you for a chance to help, how do you expect them, as they grow more capable, to do these chores without constant prodding on your part, and constant grumbling on theirs?

Give them the opportunity to learn the sense of joy and satisfaction that comes from a job well done. Household chores will not only keep them closer to the home, but will develop within them a sense of responsibility necessary to their growing into adult-hood.

Another point. Psychologists frequently warn parents not to take every element of struggle out of their children’s lives-for growth, to a large extent is dependent upon struggle. In other words, let your children work for some of the things they want. If you wish them to mature into self-reliant adults, give them the opportunity to do some constructive work during childhood and adolescence. By your example as parents, rather than by words, impress upon your children a deep respect for the dignity of work.

The third step in building a sanctified family is a common social life. Let your family as a unit plan activities- family feast day parties, fishing trips, picnics. Utilize to the fullest the opportunities you have for companionship with your children. Don’t let them develop the attitude that to have fun they must “get away” from Mother and Dad.

Direct their recreation into creative crafts, constructive hobbies, music, group reading. It is a serious mistake to allow children to limit all their recreation to such passive entertainment as television, radio, or the movies. Undoubtedly, it will require effort and planning on your part to develop a well-rounded social life for your family as a unit, but a happy contented family will pay dividends in the years to come.

This leads naturally to the fourth point-the development within your children of a deep sense of family loyalty- an espirit de corps. Psychologists tell us that one of the fundamental needs of a child is to feel that he really belongs to a group, and to know that he contributes something unique to the group as a whole. Children, therefore, should be taught to think of the common good of the family, to be devoted to their brothers and sisters and to stand by them in time of need-to share with them their joys.

Even the faithful performance of chores should be viewed in this light of family loyalty. All this will not only make them better members of their school and community group, but more patriotic citizens, and above all else, loyal and faithful members of the Mystical Body of Christ.

Through these four points suggested by our Holy Father, you should be able to teach your children to lead lives of purpose—impressing upon them frequently the difference between success in the form of such tangibles as money, white-walled convertibles, closets full of clothes, and success as God sees it: a heart filled with sanctifying grace.

If you resolve now, at the very outset of your career as a mother, to build your family life on such a set of principles as these suggested by our Holy Father-keeping constantly before you the humble home of the Holy Family as your guide and inspiration-rest assured that with Mary’s help you will bring your child to his Confirmation Day, worthy to become a stalwart soldier in the army of Jesus Christ.

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BLESSING OF AN EXPECTANT MOTHER

V. Our help is in the name of the Lord.

R. Who made heaven and earth.

V. Save Thy servant, Lord.

R. For she puts her hope, O God, in Thee.

V. Be a tower of strength for her, O Lord.

R. Against Enemy attack.

V. Let not the Enemy have power against her.

R. Nor the son of evil come near to harm her.

V. O Lord, send her aid from Thy holy place.

R. And guard her from Sion.

V. O Lord, hear my prayer.

R. And let my cry come unto Thee.

V. The Lord be with thee.

R. And with thy spirit.

Let us pray.

Almighty, everlasting God, Thou hast granted Thy servants in the profession of the true Faith, to show forth the glory of the eternal Trinity and to adore Its Unity in the power of Its majesty. We ask that Thy servant, N., by her constancy in that Faith, may ever be safeguarded against all adversity. Through Christ our Lord. R. Amen.

Let us pray.

O Lord God, Creator of all, Thou art mighty and awe-inspiring, just and merciful; Thou alone art kind and loving and didst set Israel free from every evil, making our fathers Thy chosen people. Thou didst sanctify them by the power of Thy Spirit and by the co-working of the Holy Ghost, didst prepare the body and soul of the glorious Virgin Mary to become a worthy home for Thy Son. Thou didst fill John the Baptist with the Holy Ghost, making him leap with joy in his mother’s womb. Accept now the offering of the contrite heart and the ardent desire of Thy servant, N., who humbly petitions Thee for the welfare of the child which Thou didst grant her to conceive. Protect the work which is Thine and guard it from all the deceit and harm of our bitter Enemy. May the hand of Thy mercy assist her delivery, and may her child see the light of day without harm; may it be kept safe for the holy rebirth of Baptism, serve Thee always in all things, and thereby merit everlasting life. Through the same Christ our Lord.

R. Amen.

The priest then sprinkles the woman with holy water, and prays

PSALM 66

May God have pity on us and bless us; * may He let His face shine upon us.

So may your way be known upon the earth; * among all nations, your salvation.

May the peoples praise yoe; O God; * may all the peoples praise you!

May the nations be glad and exult because you rule the peoples in equity; * the nations on the earth you guide.

May the peoples praise you, O God; * may all the peoples praise you.

The earth has yielded its fruits; *

God, our God, has blessed us.

May God bless us, * and may all the ends of the earth fear Him!

Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, * and to the Holy Ghost.

As it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall world without end. Amen.

V. Let us praise the Father and the Son with the Holy Ghost.

R. Let us praise and glorify Him forever.

V. To His angels God has given charge over you.

R. To guard you in all your ways.

V. O Lord, hear my prayer.

R. And let my cry come unto Thee.

V. The Lord be with thee.

R. And with thy spirit.

Let us pray.

Visit this dwelling we beg Thee, O Lord, and drive far from it and from this Thy servant, N., all the snares of the

Enemy. May Thy holy angels dwell here to preserve her and her child in peace, and may Thy blessing be ever upon her. Save them, O almighty God, and bestow upon them Thy unfailing light. Through Christ our Lord. R. Amen.

May the blessing of Almighty God, the Father, the Son,@ and Holy Spirit, come down upon you and your child, and remain forever.

Amen.

BLESSING OF A MOTHER AFTER CHILDBIRTH

Vested in surplice and white stole, the priest with his server proceeds to the entrance of the church where the mother with her baptized child awaits him holding a lighted candle. He sprinkles them and all the others present with holy water, saying:

V. Our help is in the name of the Lord.

R. Who made heaven and earth.

Ant.She shall receive the Lord’s blessing, and mercy from God, her Savior, because she is of the generation who seek the Lord

PSALM 23

The Lord’s are the earth and its fullness; * the world and those who dwell in it.

For He founded it upon the seas * and established it upon the rivers.

Who can ascend the mountain of the Lord? or who may stand in His holy place?

He whose hands are sinless, whose heart is clean, who desires not what is vain, nor swears deceitfully to his neighbor.

He shall receive a blessing from the Lord, * a reward from God his savior.

Such is the race that seeks for him, * that seeks the face of the God of Jacob.

Lift up, O gates, your lintels; * reach up, you ancient portals, that the king of glory may come in!

Who is this king of glory? *

The Lord, strong and mighty, the Lord, mighty in battle.

Lift up, O gates, your lintels; * reach up, you ancient portals, that the king of glory may come in!

Who is this king of glory? *

The Lord of hosts; he is the king of glory.

Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, * and to the Holy Ghost.

As it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be, world without end. Amen.

Ant. She shall receive the Lord’s blessing, and mercy from God, her Savior, because she is of the generation who seek the Lord.

The priest puts the end of the stole in the wom an’s hand and leads her toward the altar, saying: Enter God’s temple. Adore the Son of the blessed Virgin Mary who has given you fruitfulness of offspring. The mother kneels on the altar step and is grateful to God.

V. Lord, have mercy.

R. Christ, have mercy. Lord, have mercy. ,

V. Our Father (silently).

And lead us not into temptation.

R. But deliver us from evil.

V. Save Thy servant, Lord.

R. For she puts her hope, O God, in Thee.

V. O Lord, send her aid from Thy holy place.

R. And guard over her from Sion.

V. Let not the Enemy have power against her.

R. Nor the son of evil come near to harm her.

V. O Lord, hear my prayer.

R. And let my cry come unto Thee.

V. The Lord be with thee.

R. And with thy spirit.

Let us pray.

Almighty, everlasting God, by the child-bearing of Blessed Virgin Mary Thou hast turned the pains of childbearing into joy for Thy faithful. Look now with kindness on this Thy servant, who comes rejoicing to Thy holy temple to render thanks to Thee, and grant that after this life she and her child may, by the merits and intercession of the Blessed Virgin Mary, gain the joys of everlasting happiness. Through Christ our Lord.

R. Amen.

The priest sprinkles mother and child with holy water, saying:

May the peace and blessing of almighty God, the Father, the Son, and Holy Spirit, come down upon thee, and remain forever.

R. Amen.

Nihil obstat:

John Eidenschink, O.S.B., J.C.D., Censor deputatus.

Imprimi potest:

@ Baldwin Dworschak, O.S.B., D.D., Abbot of St. John’s Abbey.

Imprimatur:

@ Peter W. Bartholome, D.D., Bishop of St. Cloud. June 25, 1954.

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Sanctity

A CONFERENCE ON THE SPIRITUAL LIFE

BY ARCHBISHOP COORAY O.M.I

INDEX

Jesus said: ‘So is the Kingdom of Heaven, as if a man should cast seed into the earth, and should sleep and rise, night and day, and the seed should spring and grow up whilst he knoweth not. For the earth of itself bringeth forth fruit: first the blade, then the ear, and afterwards the full corn in the ear. And when the fruit is brought forth, immediately he putteth in the sickle, because the harvest is come.’ Mark iv. 26–29.

A simple parable indeed; but one full of very deep meaning. Its short trenchant phrases tell the whole story of the supernatural or spiritual life of a soul: they contain the whole secret of Sanctity.

In the following pages we intend to unfold that secret and trace that story, following as closely as possible the parallel set up in the parable of the mysterious growth of a plant.

LIFE

Life, as the very name implies, is a property or quality of the living as opposed to the non-living. There is this great difference (among others) between the living and the non-living: the living is produced by another living being that is actually or eminently of its own nature, and, once it is produced, the living grows intrinsically by an innate, inherent power of its own. On the other hand, the non-living can be produced even by an agent of a different nature, be that agent living or non-living, and it can increase by extrinsic addition. An example will make this clear. We cannot make a plant grow by adding branch upon branch or leaf upon leaf extrinsically: the plant is a living thing that grows from within. But we can make a wall by adding stone upon stone extrinsically: the wall is non-living, and can increase by external addition.

SPIRITUAL LIFE

It is clear from the above that spiritual life cannot be produced except by one having that life, and that it can grow intrinsically by an inherent power and not by any extrinsic addition on our part.

SUPERNATURAL LIFE

The spiritual life that we speak of is a supernatural one. Therefore, it can be produced only by a supernatural Being. And the only supernatural Being is God. Not all men and angels, not the entire natural creation put together, can produce the smallest degree of this supernatural life. Thus in the Sacrament of Baptism, when this supernatural life is infused into the soul, a mightier work is performed than the creation of the whole natural universe of things visible and invisible. For, in so creating the universe, God acts as the ‘Author of Nature,’ in imitation of His attributes; whereas, in infusing supernatural life in Baptism, He acts as the ‘Author of Grace,’ communicating His Nature according to its intrinsic specification.

SANCTIFYING GRACE

It is this supernatural life that we call sanctifying grace. By sanctifying grace we become children of God, not by mere extrinsic adoption, but by an intrinsic communication of divine life. We become participants or partakers of the divine life. Without being changed into God, we become divinised.

An example or two may help us to understand this a little. We take an iron and place it in the fire. The iron gradually ceases to be cold and dark; it becomes warm and bright. It becomes a participant or partaker of the nature of fire. Without being changed into fire, it becomes fiery. It is in a somewhat similar way that the soul becomes divinised.

Here is another example. We take a crystal and hold it to the sun. The bright light penetrates and permeates it; it becomes a mass of light. Without being changed into the sun, it becomes bright like the sun; it participates in the nature of the sun. The communication of divine life is somewhat similar.

The eye hath not seen nor the ear heard the beauty of a soul in this state of sanctifying grace. It is beautiful with the beauty, the majesty, the splendour, the nature of God. A glimpse of this beauty communicated to the body itself, the Divine Saviour showed us on the Mount of the Transfiguration.

But this is not all. When a soul lives by this resplendent divine life called sanctifying grace, immediately the Most Holy Trinity, the Father, Son and the Holy Ghost, enter therein as guests and make Their abode therein. The soul becomes the living temple of God more precious than the most precious Basilica erected to the honour of God. For very much as Jesus is present in the Tabernacle in His Divinity and His Humanity, God becomes present in the soul in His Divinity. But whereas the Tabernacle itself has no life, the soul becomes the living temple of God.

God, who was there before as the Author of Nature by His immensity, now becomes present according to His own intrinsic Nature, as He is. Once again an example: it will help us to understand this new presence a little, namely, how God who was already present can become present again. Let us take a radio set. We place it in Ceylon. From Rome a beautiful symphony is transmitted. The sound waves of the symphony reach the set in Ceylon. But as long as an electric current is not switched on to the set, the symphony is not received as it is. It is present physically in the set, but it is not received as it is by the set. The reason is that, as long as the set is not raised to the level and nature of these sound waves by a transfusion of electricity, the set cannot receive the symphony as it is. So it is with a soul destitute of sanctifying grace. God is present to it as to all created things. But as it is not of the nature of God, it cannot receive God as He is.

Now just as, once we switch the current on, the radio set immediately receives the symphony as it is, so, no sooner is a soul elevated to the nature of God by sanctifying grace than it receives God as He is.

Continuing our example a little further: the radio set may not reproduce it unto perfection. This reproduction depends on certain conditions, external and internal. Externally there must be no disturbances by bad atmospherics, etc. Internally the apparatus must be delicate and well adjusted. Similarly a soul receives God when it is in sanctifying grace. But the perception of this presence depends on external and internal conditions: externally there must not be bad atmospherics or the noise of the world; this noise is caused in a very special way by dissipation due to the attachment chiefly of the senses to created objects. This attachment must be destroyed by mortification; this stage is the Purgative Way of the spiritual life. Once this is done, the soul begins to be recollected and there is no external obstruction: there is a degree of silence. Internally the soul must be adjusted to the correct wave length and must be well attuned: in other words, it must become like unto God in its activity by the acquisition and the exercise of virtues, and must have a perfectly upright intention or a will in complete conformity with the will of God; this is the Illuminative Way of the spiritual life, which sets the intelligence and the will attuned to receive the divine communications.

Now comes a difference between our example and the reality. In the case of the radio set, once the current is on and the atmospherics good, and the apparatus is adjusted and attuned, the transmission is reproduced. But in the case of the soul, even, if it is in the state of sanctifying grace, recollected and rectified by the acquisition of virtues and a pure intention, still it will not perceive ipso facto the presence of God. The above conditions are necessary as pre-requisites. But there must be a further operation of God. God is completely free in this operation. Hence our Lord says:’Spiritus ubi vult spirat,’ ‘the Spirit breatheth where it wills.’ But when a soul is generous God usually produces these communications. The soul then perceives the divine presence in a quasi-experimental way. We say quasi-experimental because it is still through the veil of Divine Faith, though at times this veil may become almost transparent. The complete experimental perception or the face-to-face vision is reserved to the native air of Paradise where, purified completely from the impediments of the material body and elevated still higher in its perfection, the soul will behold God face to face. When a soul receives these quasi-experimental perceptions of God present within itself, as the object of its knowledge and love, it is in the Unitive Way,for in that state the soul’s activity and God’s activity in the soul become identical or unified to such an extent that it becomes one activity, the soul’s function being purely passive or receptive to God’s active operation.

PERFECTION

Just as a plant must normally reach full growth and realize its perfect development, so the spiritual life in the soul must also normally reach this full growth and attain this perfect development of the Unitive Way, called infused contemplation. But very few souls actually reach it. Not because it is abnormal, but because souls are under abnormal conditions.

An example again to illustrate this point. An oak normally grows into a magnificent tree -the king of the forest. This, however, will take place only if the sapling is under normal surroundings and under normal conditions. Planted in Ceylon it would be a dwarf-plant, not because the oak is normally a dwarf-plant, but because it is in an alien land under abnormal conditions.

By original sin, we have been transplanted in an alien land: hence our dwarf-growth in the spiritual life, not because this is the normal one, but because we are under abnormal conditions.

Redemption, however, has made it possible, and even more than possible, for us to come back to normal conditions. For’Ubi abundavit delictum superabundavit gratia’: ‘where sin abounded, grace has become still more abundant.’ But this implies great generosity and self-sacrifice on the part of souls. And because this generosity and self-sacrifice are lacking, few actually reach the high state of perfection expected of them.

Now arises the question: in practice how is the soul to realize this great normal development of its spiritual life?

To answer this we come back to the point from which we started. The spiritual life is a quality of the living. At Baptism this life is given to the soul which as a living thing must, of itself, like the seed in the parable, reach full growth and maturity in sanctity, provided it is under proper conditions and provided there are no obstacles. A difference, however, must be noted between the growth of the seed and the growth of the supernatural life in our soul. In the case of the seed, once it is under proper conditions and there are no obstacles, it will grow by its inherent vitality alone. In the case of the soul, besides the proper conditions and the absence of obstacles there must be an additional quality, i.e. our free co-operation. The reason for this difference is that, unlike the seed, the human soul is endowed with free will, and this free will must also play its part and that by co-operation. Nevertheless it is not we nor our efforts that make the spiritual life grow. It grows by itself under the action of God. The part of our co-operation is illustrated by a charming little example, by Karl Adam. In a garden there is an apple tree laden with ripe fruits. A little child wishes to pluck one but he cannot reach so high, nor is he strong enough to pluck the fruit. His father then takes the child in his arms and, making the little one hold the fruit, plucks it for him. It looks as if the child plucked the fruit. But the father did everything. The child only cooperated. The soul’s co-operation is of a similar nature.

In other words, the supernatural life grows by the inherent vitality of sanctifying grace under the operation of God. Our work is to provide the necessary conditions, to remove obstacles and then to co-operate with our free will.

To explain this work of ours, we take once again the example of a plant. For its normal growth the plant needs certain conditions.

1. LIGHT

Lack of light leads to etiolation. The plant finds its stem becoming thin and elongated, it turns pale and dies. But if it is placed in light, it turns green and produces a normal healthy growth. The light of the soul is Divine Faith. The soul must see things in the light of Faith and live in the spirit of Faith. . Faith sees things more differently than does nature. For instance, take two religious. One works in the kitchen and another in the chapel. According to nature, the latter’s seems to be the nobler work. But according to Faith, if one works through obedience, to work in the kitchen is as noble as to work in the chapel. Jesus had not yet preached- nor worked miracles. He had only planed wood at Nazareth: still on the banks of the Jordan God proclaims: ‘This is My well beloved Son in whom I am well pleased.’ Jesus had done the will of His Father: He had been obedient. By the spirit of Faith we see in our daily duties the will of God; in our companions children of God, living tabernacles of the Holy Trinity; in our lawful Superiors the Person and the Authority of God. To live in the Divine Light is to live in the spirit of Faith.

2. WARMTH

Light alone is not enough for growth; there must be the necessary warmth. The winter light of the sun produces no growth, because there .is no warmth in it. The warmth of the supernatural life is Charity. After seeing things in the light of Faith we must act in Charity, i.e. do everything to please God. Just as the vital internal warmth of a plant is increased by respiration, we must, by a spiritual respiration which is prayer-the oft repeated lifting of our souls to God-obtain greater and greater divine charity, from God. The intensity of our spiritual growth will depend on the intensity of this charity or love of God that animates our actions.

3. SOIL

The soil must be well prepared. It must be dug up, broken, freed from stones, aerated. In the spiritual life this is effected by the proper performance of one’s daily duties. For in acting thus, we exercise ourselves in self-denial and in all Christian virtues and prepare a perfect soil for the spiritual plant. The soil must also be enriched by manuring. We may compare our spiritual exercises of the day or the week, such as prayer, the reading of good spiritual books, etc., and these done well, to the enriching of the soil. Without them the soil of the soul gets exhausted and the spiritual life weakens.

The soil must also be watered. A plot may be watered with a can, or with rain from heaven. The latter undoubtedly is the more efficacious method, though the former may also be necessary. The water needed for the soul is divine grace in the fullest sense of this word. We can obtain—it by all good, supernatural actions: these are like watering the soil with a can. We can obtain them also by the Sacraments: these are like the rain from heaven. Thus we realize the importance of frequent and worthy reception of the Sacraments. As this is of the utmost importance in the spiritual life, it may be useful to develop this point somewhat more at length and speak in a special manner of the Sacraments which are received oftenest: the Sacraments of Penance and of the Holy Eucharist.

THE SACRAMENT OF PENANCE

The Sacrament of Penance may be called the Sacrament of the compassion of the Heart of Jesus towards the sinful soul. It cleanses the soul from past sins, increases sanctifying grace and gives new strength to overcome future temptations and sins. However great may be one’s sins, one need not fear to approach this Sacrament, for, if one’s sins are great, the compassion of the Heart of Jesus is infinitely greater. Need we give examples of this boundless mercy of God? Their number is greater than that of the stars of heaven. We shall take one example from the Holy Gospels. Jesus had loved Peter. He had raised him from the dust of the earth to be Prince of His Apostles, the head of His Church. But Peter, on the very day of his first Communion, on the day of his sacerdotal ordination, commits a shameful sin: he denies his Master. It was a deep wound for the Heart of Jesus to be thus treated by His own beloved Apostle, at a moment when He was abandoned by all and delivered to the cruel vengeance of His enemies. But Peter is sorry. Jesus casts on him a look, not of reproach, but of mercy and compassion. And Peter going out weeps bitterly. His sin is forgiven. Not only is it forgiven, but it is also forgotten. . . . After the Resurrection Jesus does not even mention it. He only asks, ‘Simon, son of John, lovest thou Me,’ and when Peter expresses his love, ‘Lord, Thou knowest all things, Thou knowest that I love Thee,’ He commits to his care His entire flock, ‘Feed My lambs, feed My sheep.’ Not to confide in such compassionate love is to do the greatest and cruellest injustice to the Heart of Jesus. Only, if we have sinned much, let us now love-much, not merely in word but in deed.

But when we speak of perfection, there is normally no question of mortal sin. The soul has habitually only venial sins to confess. But often, especially because these are venial sins, they are confessed time after time with little amendment in one’s conduct and little progress.

On the other hand if the oft repeated confessions are well made they are a great means of spiritual progress. How then are these weekly or fortnightly confessions to be made?

We answer briefly thus:

There is not the least doubt that in the case of mortal sins, one and all, without any exception, of those remembered after a careful examination, must be confessed in order to obtain pardon. It is not the same with venial sins. One is not bound to confess them. Hence even if some are voluntarily omitted they could be pardoned indirectly. One need not, therefore, spend too much time in an over-detailed examination of all the venial sins. A general review of the week or two after the last confession is sufficient for the majority of the sins. But there is one sin or perhaps two which may be called the predominant sin or sins. This is the root and cause of most other sins. This should be examined in detail, not only with regard to the number as far as possible, but also with regard to its causes and occasions and other attending circumstances. The act of contrition, which is the most important part in receiving this Sacrament, while including all other sins in general, should be directed in a special manner on this root sin. Then, very concrete and precise and practical resolutions should be taken against this sin and its occasions for the following week or two as the case may be. At the confession itself, it is sufficient to mention the other venial sins in a general way. But the predominant sin should, with due prudence, be confessed in detail, with its causes and occasions, not omitting those details which may be most humiliating. This humiliation of oneself at confession is one of the best and most efficacious acts of humility. One’s resolutions also should be mentioned to the confessor and his advice taken. Subsequently, during the daily examination of conscience and especially at the particular examen, of which this sin should form the subject, one’s faults on this point should be examined carefully and also the manner in which one has carried out one’s resolutions. At the next confession the same process is followed as for the previous one, and so on till this predominant sin is eradicated. Then other sins could be taken in hand one by one in the same way.

If these frequent confessions are made in this manner, instead of being the indifferent routine acts that they often tend to become, they will be a means of great spiritual progress.

HOLY COMMUNION

Holy Communion is of still greater importance and efficacy in the spiritual life.

Jesus came but once to the house of Zachaeus, and that one visit was enough to convert him from a prince of publicans and sinners and make him a saint. Jesus comes often, even daily into our souls, and we remain indifferent. Is it because the action of Jesus is less efficacious now? Certainly not so. If we go to the vast ocean with a thimble, we can fill it. If we go with a large pitcher we can fill it also; and the sea is not the emptier for it. Jesus comes to us with infinite graces. But if our capacity is that of a thimble, He cannot give us more than we can hold. If our capacity is that of a pitcher, He can still fill us without exhausting His abundance. In other words, what we receive in Communion is proportionate to our capacity to receive; this capacity is according to our preparation. To receive much we must prepare ourselves well.

Communion is a food. Hence preparation for Communion or dispositions required for Communion are similar to the dispositions required for taking nourishment.

Appetite is the first condition. To eat well, we must be hungry. The greater the hunger, the better the food is assimilated. Hunger for Holy Communion is a great longing or desire to receive this Sacrament. To renew this desire often during the day, especially by spiritual Communions, is to increase this spiritual hunger.

To eat food with profit one must be empty. If one is already full, to force down more food is to court indigestion? So, too, with the Eucharistic fare of our souls; to derive benefit from it one must be empty, empty of self-love. Jesus comes to give us divine love. But if we are already filled with self-love, there is no room for divine love and His coming will be of little use. We must, therefore, empty ourselves of self-love and become more and more humble. Our capacity for divine grace will be in proportion to the depth of our humility. Mary was ‘full of grace’ because she was full of humility. Hence Holy Scripture says that God looked down, not on her purity or virginity or any other virtue, though these were very precious, but on her humility:’respexit humilitatem ancillae suae’: ‘He looked down on the humility of His handmaid.’

Finally there must be similarity between the nature of the person who eats and the nature of the food; else the food cannot be assimilated. For instance, we cannot eat a stone and assimilate it. The dissimilarity and distance between our nature and that of the stone is too great. On the other hand, certain foods are more easily digested because they are nearer in their qualities to our nature. In Holy Communion we are to be as it were assimilated spiritually to Jesus, i.e. our dispositions are to be converted to His. In order to realize this better we must try to approach nearer to Him, to be more and more similar to Him.

To take another example: Jesus comes to enkindle in us the fire of divine love:’ignem veni mittere in terrain.’ I have come to spread fire on earth.’ Fire embraces the wood better and quicker, the drier the wood is. The reason is that by dryness the wood approaches nearer the nature of fire. On the other hand if the wood is wet or green, it is remoter from the nature of fire, and will catch fire with greater difficulty. In a similar way, we also shall catch the divine fire better and quicker in proportion to our nearness to Jesus.

This similarity or nearness to Jesus is realized by our conformity to the will of God. We must try to practise such conformity during the whole day. The first degree of this conformity is in not violating the will of God, i.e. in avoiding sin and in being faithful to the duties of our state of life: it is the ‘Thy will be done’ of the Our Father in its lowest degree. The second degree is in positively resembling Jesus, the living image of God, by practising virtue and thus being perfect as our heavenly Father is perfect: it is the realization of the’Thy Kingdom come’ in our souls. The third degree is a more intense union by prayer, suffering and sacrifice, like the union of Jesus with the will of God, when He immolated Himself on the Cross for the glory of His Father. Thus the ‘Hallowed or sanctified be Thy name’ is made realistic to the full in our life as in the life of Christ.

If we prepare ourselves thus for Holy Communion-by hunger, emptiness and resemblance, i.e. by desire, humility and conformity to God’s will, and if to this we join a fervent thanksgiving after Communion, incalculable will be the graces we receive in Holy Communion. We shall run like giants in the path of perfection. By our Communions alone we can become great saints.

The plant of the supernatural life will thus have all that is needed: light, warmth, and a soil well prepared. It only remains to protect it against noxious animals, i.e. against occasions of sin: and it must, of itself, by its own inherent vitality, develop into a full grown tree, provided always that we co-operate with the action of God.

But this spiritual tree is not merely to bear leaves: it must bring forth flowers and fruits. A further process is necessary for the production of abundant fruit: the tree must be correctly pruned. The vine, for instance, if not duly pruned, will bear very little fruit. In other words, there must be suffering endured for the love of God. Hence our Divine Lord says: ‘He that beareth fruit in Me, My Father will purge him that he may bring forth more fruit.’

It must, however, be remembered that the pruning is done, not by the plant itself, but by the gardener. That is to say, it is God Himself who supplies us with the best mortifications.

There is no doubt that we can impose on ourselves mortifications of our own choice. But in order that these may not be against God’s plans and thus do more harm than good, we must always ask the advice of a prudent guide, especially of our spiritual father. But much more efficacious than mortifications of our own choice are those of God’s choice, viz, for the generality of Christians the penances imposed by the Church of God, such as fasts, abstinence, etc.: for religious, the penances according to their Rules in addition to those of the Church; for all, the various inconveniences, sufferings, contradictions, etc., of daily life resulting from our work, our surroundings, or companions, etc.-in one word, all that is unpleasant, permitted by Divine Providence. Often this Providence may not be so clearly visible. We may see only the human instrument that, like a pair of sharp scissors, cuts us mercilessly. But let us look with the eyes of Faith and we shall see that these scissors are held by a Hand crucified for love of us.

The comparison of the spiritual life with a plant can be carried with profit a step further. The Church is like a large, beautiful, well-laid-out garden. There are in it trees and plants of various hue and colour, of different size and growth. Some are giant trees, others low-lying grass. Some are in well-trimmed beds or elegant rows, like the religious families, others are in scattered variety, like the ordinary faithful. But it is an important point to be noted, that it is the gardener who chooses the plants for the respective places in the garden. In another place the plants will not thrive well. So in the Church, God has a special place for each soul. In another place it will not realize the degree of sanctity that should be achieved by it. Some are to be priests, others religious, others the faithful laity. Each one’s full sanctity is to be realized according to this divine plan and in no other way. Hence, says the Divine Master, ‘It is not you who have chosen Me, but I have chosen you and placed you that you may go and bring forth fruit.’ To go out of this plan may perhaps mean to miss the mark completely. Hence the importance of choosing one’s vocation prudently and correctly: if God wishes us to be in the world, then it is in the world that we shall realize our perfect sanctity; if, on the contrary, He wishes us to quit the world, then it is in the priesthood or the religious life that we can reach our normal growth and development.

Once our vocation is chosen with due prudence, then our sanctity is to be realized therein, by being faithful to the duties of our state of life in the manner described in the body of this exposition. In the garden the rose attains its perfections by producing very good roses, the lily very good lilies, the violet very good violets, the vine very good grapes. The violet must not try to go to the bed of roses lest the gardener pull it out and. throw it away. Nor must it try to produc e lilies. So the highest sanctity for each soul is to fulfil unto perfection all its duties, spiritual and temporal, where Divine Providence has placed it, whether it be in the home, in the workshop, at school, in the cloister, or in the priestly ministry.

Then, like the seed growing in silence, it will produce, though unobserved, unnoticed, ‘first the blade, then the ear, and afterwards the full corn in the ear’ in personal sanctity, in good works and in glory to God, a hundredfold.

So may it be for each one of us through the motherly care, mediation and example of Mary. From a parched land, under the Breath of God, she sprang forth as the one living Rod from the Root of Jesse, bearing the fair Blossom, Jesus. So may we also in this world, parched with sin, spring into life and vitality under the Living Breath of God and blossom forth in virtues unto the likeness of Jesus.

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Scapular Instructions

INDEX

PART I

THE SCAPULAR DEVOTION

Among devotions to Our Lady, the most privileged and most widespread are the Rosary and the Brown Scapular.

This latter devotion, as the celebrated canonist and theologian, Rev. A. J. Vermeersch, S.J., puts it: “Derives all its benevolence from the Blessed Virgin and is the homage of respectful affection, of filial confidence, and of continual supplication.”

On July 16, 1251, Our Lady appeared to the Carmelite Prior-General, St. Simon Stock, holding in her hand the Brown Scapular.”Receive. my beloved son,” Our Lady said, “this Habit; whosoever dies clothed in this shall not suffer eternal fire!” (i.e., whosoever wears this badge of the Mother of God, not presumptuously relying on the Scapular as on a miraculous amulet, but walking in the path of God’s Commandments and trustfully confiding in the goodness and power of Mary, may securely hope that Mary will, through her powerful intercession, procure for him all the necessary graces for true conversion and perseverance in good and thus preserve him from hell).

In the ensuing seven centuries, this increasingly celebrated Scapular Promise was studied and found theologically sound, questioned, and was confirmed by miracles so numerous, said Blessed Claude de la Colombiere, S.J.,”That no devotion has been confirmed with miracles more numerous and authentic.” Today, approximately 200,000,000 Catholics wear the Scapular, from the Pope down to some of the most recent converts.

Since the nucleus of this vast Confraternity is the Carmelite Order, it is interesting to note:

(1) The Carmelites derive their name from Mount Carmel, in Palestine, where, as is traditionally believed, the forefathers of the Order, descendants from the Prophet Elias, were visited by Our Lady during her lifetime on earth.

(2) The first public oratory ever erected on earth in honour of Our Lady was erected by these monks, according to the oldest traditions.

(3) The gift of the Scapular universalised the Carmelite Order as”Our Lady’s Family,” as Pius IX explained: “This most extraordinary gift of the Scapular from the Mother of God to St. Simon Stock brings its great usefulness not only to the Carmelite Family of Mary, but also to all the rest of the faithful who wish, affiliated to that Family, to follow Mary with a very special devotion.”

REWARDS OF PERSEVERING SCAPULAR DEVOTION

[One only gains these rewards while actually wearing the Scapular.]

The prime reward of the Scapular devotion is Assurance of Salvation, granted by Our Lady in the already quoted promise.

For this reward, two conditions must be fulfilled:

(1) One must be lawfully enrolled into the Scapular Confraternity.

(2) One must be wearing the Scapular at the moment of death.

A second great reward attached to the Scapular is the Sabbatine, enabling the Scapular wearer, by the fulfillment of two conditions in addition to wearing the Scapular, to assure his speedy liberation from Purgatory, especially on

Saturday.

Three other rewards attached to the devotion are:

(a) A sharing in all the spiritual goods of the Carmelite Order and of other Confraternity members throughout the world.

(b) More than one hundred Plenary Indulgences annually (upon fulfillment of conditions) and almost countless days of partial Indulgences.

(c) Continual affiliation to Mary in a true devotion . . . a devotion of perpetual homage, confidence, and love. Even a cursory study of these almost unbelievable spiritual riches reveals that the chief end of the devotion of the

Scapular is to make holy those who practise it. Moreover, experience confirms that the Scapular does sanctify, particularly working conversions from evil. It has never been known, through seven centuries, that anyone who persevered in wearing the Scapular died impenitent.

Naturally, in her solicitude for this devotion, which she has ever sought to encourage and yet to safeguard, the

Church has heaped many privileges and Indulgences upon its practise and, at the same time, has passed much legislation upon it. It is this legislation, in particular, that concerns us in this brochure.

LEGISLATION ON THE SABBATINE PRIVILEGE

The three conditions attached to the Sabbatine Privilege are: (1) The faithful wearing of the Scapular; (2) The observance of Chastity according to one’s state in life; (3) The recitation of the Office of Our Lady (different from that of the Immaculate Conception).

With regard to the third condition, five things are to be noted:

(a) This Office must be said every day and must be recited in accordance with the rubrics of the Roman rite unless one enjoys the privilege of any other rite approved by the Church (as do Carmelite Tertiaries).

(b) This Office consists of one nocturne with Lauds and the rest of the Canonical Hours.

(c) In the private recitation of the Office, one may use a vernacular language; if the Office is chanted publicly, it must be in Latin.

(d) Those bound to the daily recitation of the Canonical Hours satisfy this condition through the normal daily Office.

(e) Those who know not how to read satisfy this condition by observing the fast days of the Church and abstaining from flesh meat on Wednesdays and Saturdays. (In this event, wherever the Church dispenses with ecclesiastical fasts, the members of the Confraternity may use this dispensation. Furthermore, abstinence does not bind on a Wednesday or Saturday which happens to coincide with Christmas Day.)

The third condition of the Privilege may be commuted. All confessors have the faculty of commuting the abstinence on Wednesdays and Saturdays into any other pious work (although the commutation is usually to seven Paters, Aves and Glorias). Carmelite priests and those who have received a special faculty may commute the Little Office. It should be noted that this latter faculty is not included in the faculty itself to bless and enroll in the Scapular, but must be given separately. It may be used both inside and outside the confessional.

LEGISLATION ON ENROLLMENT

The ceremony of blessing the Scapular and enrolling into the Confraternity must be carried out according to the Roman or the Carmelite rite, and either the long or short form of the ritual may be used.

The blessing and the enrolling must be carried out by the same priest, who may bless any number of Scapulars with the one blessing. (N.B.: Once anyone has been properly enrolled in the Scapular, he or she need not have subsequent Scapulars blessed.) Priests may bless the Scapulars before the ceremony of enrolling; hence, Scapulars already blessed may be used in the enrolling, and the ceremony may begin”Ab impotitione,” the blessing having already been effected.

In the enrolling ceremony the Scapular should be placed over the head so that it reposes around the neck and between the shoulders, or it may be placed over one shoulder. The same Scapular may be used for any number of the faithful, the ceremony of placing the Scapular upon the shoulder and reciting the”formula impositionis” simply being repeated for each candidate, but in this case, the first Scapular which the person enrolled afterwards wears, has to be blessed.

When several are to be enrolled, the plural formula on enrollment is recited before the ceremony of imposing the Scapular; the priest then proceeds immediately from one to the other of the candidates without repeating the formula. In this case, however, a separate blessed Scapular is required for each individual.

A priest whose faculties for enrolling are not confined to any particular church or convent chapel may enrol himself in the Scapular. Moreover, by singular exception, soldiers under arms may enroll themselves simply by assuming a blessed Scapular while saying some prayers to Our Lady (e.g., three Hail Marys) or a blessed Scapular medal; they need not even send their names to a confraternity church for official inscription, but become members of the Confraternity automatically, completely, and perpetually.

Children may be enrolled in the Scapular before attaining the use of reason. For various reasons, it is advisable to have the enrolment as early as possible. If the enrollment is deferred to the time of First Communion, care should be taken that the child be properly instructed in the meaning of the Scapular. It is generally advisable to have instructions on the Scapular from the altar at set times during the year, especially on the occasion of the Scapular Feast, July 16.

Membership in the Confraternity is not forfeited by merely laying aside the Scapular. When it is desired to wear the Scapular again after a lapse of any duration whatever, there is no need for re-enrolment, unless perhaps the Scapular is discarded through impiety or contempt.

NECESSITY OF REGISTERING NAMES

Unless excepted by a particular indult, as at present in Australia, priests are obliged to see that the names and surnames of those enrolled in the Scapular be inscribed in a register of the Confraternity. Hence a priest enrolling candidates for the Scapular where there is not an established Confraternity should keep a private register of names, and this register should be sent as soon as conveniently possible to the head of a canonically established Confraternity or to a Carmelite house, either of friars or nuns.

The material registration of names need not be made by the priest who imposes the Scapular, but the latter must undersign the list if another does the writing.

On the other hand, if for any reason it should happen that the registration is omitted, the one enrolled is still considered a member of the Confraternity in as far as the Indulgences and other spiritual favours of the Confraternity are concerned.

It is suggested that, when many candidates are to be enrolled, all the candidates should bring along slips of paper bearing their full names. Each candidate could present his slip before or after the ceremony and names could be transferred to the register at any convenient time.

Exceptions to the necessity of registering names are as follows:

(1) Those priests are exempt from this law who have been granted specific dispensation through proper ecclesiastical authority.

(2) Soldiers under arms or in hospitals may enrol themselves in the Scapular and are then exempt from the necessity of having their names registered.

(3) Carmelite priests during retreats and missions may bless the Scapulars of the people with a single blessing; the people may then invest themselves with the Scapular while the Carmelite reads the formula of enrolling, and in this instance the inscription of names in the register is not necessary.

(4) When the registration cannot be made without grave inconvenience, all priests are dispensed from this obligation. (Note that this rarely occurs because registration can be made even several years after the ceremony.)

To correct the defect of omitted inscriptions one should take note of the most recent sanation. Enrollments made in good faith before the date of such a sanation are automatically valid, regardless of defects. If names were not registered after the most recent sanation, there is obligation to inscribe them. (Up to the time of the present printing, the last sanation was on February 27, 1943.)

LEGISLATION ON THE SCAPULAR ITSELF

The Scapular of Carmel must be made entirely of wool and, according to the Sacred Congregation of Indulgences (1868), the word”pannus” should be taken in its strict meaning, that is to say, as wool woven into cloth, and not wool worked with the needle after the fashion of lace, nor pressed (felt).

[For the duration of the present World War, the Sacred Congregation permits the use of other woven materials besides wool for brown Scapulars. Felt, knitted wear, lace, etc., are still invalid.]

The colour of the Scapular is usually dark brown, but may be any shade between brown and black.

The cords which join the two panels of the Scapular may be of any material and of any colour.

Ornamentation of the Scapular is permitted (pictures of Our Lady are even customary), but the prescribed colour of the Scapular must always predominate. If the Scapular bears a picture on each panel, the stitch securing the picture should be such that the Scapular obviously holds the picture and does not frame the picture so that the brown cloth would look more like a”backing” than the essential part of the garment. Lace borders on a picture-bearing Scapular definitely jeopardise its validity.

The Scapular must be rectangular in shape. Guard must be had against Scapulars either pinked or too much trimmed at the corners.

The Scapulars must be worn over the shoulders in such a manner that one part hangs in front of the body and the other in the back. Worn in any other way, it carries no Indulgences.

It is not necessary, however, to wear the Scapular next to the skin. It may be worn over one’s” clothes or even enclosed in some sort of case. In the latter event, the panels of the Scapular must be actually attached to the cords which should join them so that, were the covering removed, the Scapular would be intact.

THE SCAPULAR MEDAL

The Scapular medal may take the place of the cloth Scapular as the habit or the insignia of the Confraternity, so long as those who wear the medal have been duly received into the Confraternity, although (as will be explained below) the use of the medal should not be indiscriminate. The faculties, therefore, to bless and impose the Scapular imply the like faculty of blessing the Scapular medal.

Each new Scapular medal must be blessed. A simple sign of the Cross suffices for this blessing, and one numerical blessing will be sufficient for any given number of medals; nor is it required that each in dividual medal be visible or distinguishable. It is immaterial whether the medals be blessed before or after the ritual of enrolling, but the person wearing the medal shall gain the Indulgences of the Confraternity only after the proper ceremony of enrolling, and with a blessed cloth Scapular.

The Scapular medal may represent, besides the Brown Scapular, also the other Scapulars, and, in such a case, it should be blessed by so many signs of the Cross as the number of Scapulars it is desired it should represent. It is presumed, of course, that the priest imparting such blessings is endowed with the necessary faculties to do so.

This medal should carry a cast of Our Divine Lord showing the Sacred Heart on the obverse, and of Our Lady, under any of her titles, on the reverse side. It must be worn on one’s person, either around the neck or in any other suitable way.

N.B.-Those careful to adhere to the wording of decrees should note that although all the Indulgences of all the Scapulars (18 in number) are attached to this medal, the distinguishing reward of assured salvation, attached to the Brown Scapular (and making this devotion of Our Lady of Mount Carmel primary among devotions to Mary), is not mentioned in the Papal decree on the medal. The Rev. A. J. Vermeersch, S.J., interpreting the institution of the medal (which was primarily granted for natives in the tropics, who could not fittingly wear the cloth Scapulars), said:”I would prefer that, in order to honour the principal Scapular, which is that of Carmel, the Brown Scapular be worn in the accustomed form and the medal only as a substitute for the other Scapulars, in order that one may not have to wear too many.” Pope Pius X himself, who made the Scapular medal decree, in an audience with the Venerable Joseph Recorder said:”I did not intend that the Scapular medal should supplant the Brown Scapular in Europe and America.” “I wear the cloth,” his Holiness added, “let us never take it off!”

Therefore, although we may have the faculty to bless the medal for the Brown Scapular as well as for other Scapulars, we should be conscious of our responsibility to preserve the dignity of the Brown Scapular, to which Mary has attached her promise of protection even unto salvation. Except in case of, good reason, we should not countenance the use of a medal in its place.

“ Its nobility of origin, its venerable antiquity, its extraordinary spread in the Church, the spiritualising effects produced by it and the outstanding miracles worked in virtue of it, render the Scapular of Carmel commendable to a wondrous degree.” (Leo XIII.)

“ This most extraordinary gift of the Scapular from the Mother of God to St. Simon Stock brings its great usefulness not only to the Carmelite Family of Mary, but also to all the rest of the faithful who wish, affiliated to that Family, to follow Mary with a very special devotion.” (Pius IX.)

“ Let all of you have a common language and a common armour: the language, the sentences of the Gospel; the common armour, the Scapular of the Virgin of Carmel, which you all ought to wear and which enjoys the singular privilege of protection even after death.” (Benedict XV.)

PART II. INDULGENCES

Notes on Indulgences.-Unless otherwise stated, the usual conditions for gaining the Plenary Indulgences mentioned below are: (a) Confession (within the week before or after the indulgenced day); (b) Holy Communion (either the day before, the feast day, or within the week after); (c) Prayers for the Pope’s Intentions (at least one Our Father, Hail Mary and Glory be). The sick and infirm can get their Confessor to change (b) into some other good work, as also the visit to a Carmelite Church when such is required.

Those who have been enrolled as members of the Carmelite Scapular Confraternity by legitimately delegated priests, and who carry on their person the Holy Scapular in the prescribed manner, can gain the following Indulgences and enjoy the following Privileges and Indults:

A. First, they can gain PLENARY INDULGENCES on the following days, under the usual conditions:

1. On the day they receive the Scapular and enter the Confraternity.

2. On the Feast of Our Lady of Mount Carmel, July 16, or the Sunday of the month on which the feast may be celebrated.

3. On the same feast, as often as they shall (Toties Quoties) have visited a Carmelite church or, if these are lacking, a church where the Confraternity exists, or, if this is not possible, the local parish church (see Indult, p. 25).

4. On one Sunday each month for being present at the processions (see Indults, p. 25).

5. On the Feast of Pentecost.

6. On All Souls” Day of the Carmelite Order, November 15, or, if this be Sunday, November 16.

7. At the hour of death for calling upon the Name of Jesus, if unable with the lips, at least with the heart. B. For visiting a Carmelite Church (see Indults, p. 19), they can gain a PLENARY INDULGENCE on the following feasts on the usual conditions:

January 1: Circumcision of Our Lord (New Year’s Day).

January 16: St. Peter Thomas, B., M.

February 2: Purification of the Blessed Virgin (Candlemas Day).

February 4: St. Andrew Corsini, B.

February 25: St. Avertanus, C.

March 6: St. Cyril, C.

March 19: St. Joseph, Spouse of the Blessed Virgin (or during Octave; or during preceding eight days, if feast is transferred).

March 20: Bl. Baptist of Mantua, C.

March 24: St. Gabriel, Archangel.

March 25: Annunciation of the Blessed Virgin.

March 29: St. Berthold, C.

May 5: St. Angelus, M.

May 16: St. Simon Stock, C.

May 25: St. Mary Magdalen de Pazzi, V.

July 2: Visitation of the Blessed Virgin.

July 16: Solemn Commemoration of the Blessed Virgin Mary of Mount Carmel (or during Octave). Also upon usual conditions, for being present daily for the recitation of Vespers during the whole Octave of Our Lady of Mount Carmel (Pius XII, September 16, 1943.) Also the”Toties Quoties” mentioned above (A3).

July 20: St. Elias, Prophet, and founder of the Carmelite Order.

July 24: Bl. Theresa and Companions, V. Mm.

July 26: St. Anne, Mother of the Blessed Virgin.

August 7: St. Albert, C.

August 15: Assumption of the Blessed Virgin.

August 16: St. Joachim, Father of the Blessed Virgin.

August 27: Piercing of the Heart of St. Theresa.

August 31: Dedication of all Churches of the Carmelite Order.

September 2: St. Brocard, C.

September 8: Nativity of the Blessed Virgin.

September 16: St. Albert, Patriarch and Lawgiver of the Carmelite Order. October 15: St. Theresa, V. November 14: All Saints of the Carmelite Order.

November 21: Presentation of the Blessed Virgin.

November 24: St. John of the Cross, C.

November 29: BB. Denis and Redemptus, Mm.

December 8: Immaculate Conception of the Blessed Virgin.

December 11: Bl. Francus, C.

Patronage of St. Joseph-third Wednesday after Easter (or during Octave).

Ascension Thursday.

Trinity Sunday.

Corpus Christi.

Most Holy Name of Jesus.

Most Sacred Heart of Jesus.

Feast of the Titular Saint of a Church of the Carmelite Order.

Once a year on any day chosen by an individual.

C. Indulgences of the Roman Stations.

In the early ages of Christianity the Roman Pontiffs were accustomed on certain days to repair to one of the chief churches of Rome to celebrate the Divine Mysteries. Such meeting places were named the Stations. On so solemn an occasion, the Pope, in later centuries, was wont to grant rich Indulgences to those present at the services. In the course of time the visits of the Pontiffs were discontinued, but the Indulgences usually granted on these visits were never discontinued. In fact, the Indulgences were extended to other churches outside Rome, and, at present, various churches throughout the world enjoy the Indulgences of the Station Churches. Among these are the churches of the Carmelites. [Note.-These Stational Indulgences cannot be gained in a Carmelite Church if a Stational Church exists within a mile.] Conditions for gaining the Indulgences of the Roman Station Churches are as follows:

1. Those who being truly penitent confess their sins and receive Holy Communion can gain a Plenary Indulgence if they assist at the services which may be held in the morning or in the evening of the appointed day by command of the Ordinary or by custom and pray for the intention of the Holy Father.

2. Should no services be held, they can still gain a Plenary Indulgence under the same conditions for reciting five Our Fathers, Hail Marys, and Glory be to the Fathers before the Blessed Sacrament; three Our Fathers, Hail Marys, Glory be to the Fathers, before the relics of the Saints exposed for veneration; and at least one Our Father, Hail Mary, and Glory be to the Father, for the intention of the Holy Father.

3. Those who visit a Stational Church on the day appointed, and with contrite heart recite the aforementioned prayers, can gain an Indulgence of ten years.

Days of the Roman Stations.

The Sundays of Advent.

All Ember Days.

Vigil of Christmas-December 24.

Christmas Day (and the three days following).

Epiphany, January 6.

Septuagesima Sunday.

Sexagesima Sunday.

Quinquagesima Sunday.

All Days of Lent.

Easter Day (and every day during octave)

The Greater Litanies, April 25.

The Minor Litanies, Rogation Days. Ascension Day.

Vigil of Pentecost.

Pentecost (and every day during Octave, excluding Trinity Sunday).

D. Further Plenary Indulgences.

1. During the Forty Hours” Devotion when held with the consent of the Ordinary (Confession, Communion, and prayers).

2. On one Wednesday each month (to be designated by the Bishop), for those who attend Exposition of the Blessed Sacrament held on Wednesday in the Carmelite churches (Confession, Communion, and prayers). Wednesday is dedicated to Our Lady of Mount Carmel.

3. For attending services on the nine Wednesdays before the Feast of St. Joseph (Confession, Communion and prayer before the Blessed Sacrament exposed).

4. For being present, at least four times, at Matins and Lauds during the Octave of Our Lady of Mount Carmel (Confession, Communion and prayers).

5. For being present at least five times at the novena before the Feast of St. Theresa of Jesus, October 15 (Confession and Communion during the novena, on the feast or within eight days following).

6. Four times a year on the occasion of the Papal Blessing-i.e., on Monday or Tuesday after Easter and Pentecost; on the Feast of Our Lady of Mount Carmel, July 16, and on St. Stephen’s Day, December 26.

NOTE. ALL the faithful can gain the Indulgences enumerated under B, C, and D. by complying with the necessary conditions.

Members of the Scapular Confraternity can gain the following Partial Indulgences for visiting a Carmelite church: A. Ten years and ten quarantines on:

Nativity of Our Lord (Christmas Day). Easter Sunday.

Pentecost Sunday. Trinity Sunday. Corpus Christi.

Immaculate Conception of the Blessed Virgin, December 8.

Nativity of the Blessed Virgin, September 8.

Presentation of the Blessed Virgin, November 12.

Annunciation of the Blessed Virgin, March 25.

Purification of the Blessed Virgin, February 2 (Candlemas Day).

Visitation of the Blessed Virgin, July 2. Assumption of the Blessed Virgin, August 15.

St. Michael, Archangel, September 29.

SS. Peter and Paul, App., June 29.

All Saints” Day, November 1.

St. John the Baptist, June 24.

Titular Saint of the Church of the Carmelite Order in particular church.

Finding of the Holy Cross, May 3.

Exaltation of the Holy Cross, September 14.

All Sundays and Saturdays throughout the year.

Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays during Lent.

B. For Certain Good Works:

1. Seven years and seven quarantines for assisting at Benediction held each Wednesday in Carmelite churches. 2. Seven years and seven quarantines for each service of the novena preceding the Feast of Our Lady of Mount

Carmel, July 16.

3. Seven years and seven quarantines for each service of the novena preceding the Feast of St. Teresa of Jesus,

October 15.

4. Three hundred days for Matins and Lauds on each day of the octave of Our Lady of Mount Carmel. 5. One hundred days for assisting at the services and praying before the Blessed Sacrament exposed on the nine

Wednesdays before the Feast of St. Joseph.

6. Two hundred days for assisting at the”Salve Regina” sung each evening in Carmelite churches. C. Other Partial Indulgences:

1. Five years and five quarantines once a month on a day selected by the Confraternity for receiving Holy

Communion and praying for the intentions of the Holy Father.

2. Three years and three quarantines on all feasts of Our Lady celebrated in the Universal Church, for going to

Confession, and receiving Holy Communion in the Confraternity chapel or church and praying for the intention of the

Holy Father.

3. Three hundred days for abstaining from meat on Wednesdays and Saturdays throughout the year. 4. One hundred days for every good deed done with a contrite heart.

5. Seven years and seven quarantines for a visit to the Confraternity church or oratory on, any Wednesday or

Saturday of the year; three hundred days on any other day of the year.

6. Each time a member kisses his Scapular-five hundred days” Indulgence (Benedict XV, July 8, 1916). D. Indulgences of the Roman Stations. (See above, Section C.)

NOTE.-ALL the faithful can gain the Indulgences enumerated under A, B, and D by complying with the necessary conditions.

NOTE.-All the above Plenary and Partial Indulgences are applicable to the souls in purgatory, except those at the hour of death.

Besides being able to obtain all these Indulgences, one who wears the Scapular enjoys the following privileges: 1. The Sabbatine Privilege, first granted by Pope John XXII, approved and confirmed by Clement VII (in”Ex

Clemente,” August 12, 1534), by St. Pius V. (in “Superna dispositione,” February 18, 1566), by Gregory XIII (in “Ut

Laudes,” September 18, 1577), and by others, as also by the Roman and Universal Inquisition under Paul V on

January 20, 1613, by a decree of the following tenor:”It is lawful for the Carmelites to preach that Christians may believe with piety in the help promised to the souls of the brethren and the members of the Confraternity of the

Blessed Virgin. Mary of Mount Carmel-namely, that the Blessed Virgin will assist by her continual intercession, suffrages and merits and also by her special protection after death, particularly on Saturday (which day has been consecrated to her by the Church), the souls of the brothers and members of the Confraternity departing this life in charity who shall have worn the habit, and shall have observed chastity according to their particular state of life, and also have recited the Little Office (or, if they know not how to read, have kept the fasts of the Church, and have abstained from the use of meat on Wednesdays and Saturdays, unless the Feast of the Nativity of Our Divine Lord shall fall on one of these days).”

2. All the Masses that are celebrated for the repose of the souls of members of the Confraternity shall enjoy the same privileges as they would if celebrated on a privileged altar. . (A Plenary Indulgence is gained on such an altar.) 3. Each of the members can, at the hour of death, obtain the general absolution and Plenary Indulgence; and this, too, from any confessor assisting him at the hour, if a priest with the proper faculty is not present. NOTE.-The greatest of all benefits enjoyed by wearers of the Brown Scapular is Mary’s promise of a happy death.

THIS PROMISE IS CONTAINED IN HER WORDS [SEE P. 3] WHEN, ON JULY 16, IN THE YEAR 1251, SHE APPEARED TO ST. SIMON STOCK,

Superior General of the Carmelites, at Cambridge, England, and gave him the Scapular.

It is at once apparent that some of these important favours would be gained only by those living near a Carmelite church, or some church or oratory having legitimately established Confraternity. However, in order to extend these blessings to every wearer of the Scapular, the following provisions of Papal legislation, known as”Indults,” have been made.

1. All those living at a distance from any church or oratory, to which a visit must be paid in order to gain any of the above-named Indulgences, can, by visiting the local parish church, on the days indicated, fulfill this requisite condition and so obtain the same Indulgence. This substitution is allowed only when the distance exceeds a mile. 2. Members of the Confraternity who are unable, for any reason, to be present at the procession of the members on the appointed Sunday, can gain the same Plenary Indulgence by visiting the Confraternity church or oratory on the same day.

3. Where there is no Confraternity church or, having a Confraternity church no procession-it is sufficient, for gaining the Indulgence, to visit any church or public oratory on the third Sunday of the month. (Carmelite Sunday.) FAVOURS GRANTED LATER.

1. The faithful in the state of grace who call the Order of the Carmelites or the Brothers of the Order the name:

“Order (or Brothers) of the Glorious Mother of God, the Blessed Virgin Mary of Mt. Carmel,” can gain an Indulgence of three years and three quarantines. (Benedict XV, November 8, 1921.)

2. An Indulgence of 300 days for the ejaculation,”Queen, Beauty of Carmel, pray for us.” (Benedict XV,

November 8, 1921.)

3. The Toties Quoties Indulgence on the Feast of Our Lady of Mt. Carmel can also be gained by visiting churches of the Third Order Regular and Secular, and if these are lacking, churches in which the Scapular Confraternity is erected. (Benedict XV, February 14, 1920.)

From the”Indults” one can see how the Church has made it easy in every way for the members of the Scapular

Confraternity, wherever they may be, to gain all the spiritual favours of the Scapular. Is it not worth recalling again that all these Indulgences, except those to be gained at the hour of death, are applicable to the souls in purgatory?

“Through the generosity of the Church,” the Most Reverend Father Magennis, late Prior-General of the Carmelites, remarked,”we thus have-apart from the two promises of Our Blessed Lady to all who worthily wear her Scapular-a rich field of spiritual favours from which we may reap an abundant harvest not only for ourselves, but also for those suffering souls who, whilst on earth, were united to us by the bonds of love and friendship and fraternal charity.” “The Scapular of Our Lady has become one of the richest foundations of grace which the Church, in her liberality, has opened to us.” (A. A. Lambing, D.D., LL.D.)

NOVENA PRAYERS

IN HONOUR OF OUR LADY OF THE SCAPULAR OF MOUNT CARMEL

OPENING PRAYER.

Priest and People (kneeling):”O most holy Mother of Mount Carmel,/ thou who,/ when asked by a saint to grant privileges to a few,/ didst grant an assurance of salvation to the entire world,/ behold us, thy children,/ kneeling at thy feet.

We glory, dearest Mother,/ in wearing thy holy habit,/ that habit which makes us members of thy family on earth,/ that habit through which/ by honouring thee,/ we shall have thine all-powerful protection in life,/ at death,/ and even after death.

Look down pityingly, O Virgin of a Happy Death,/ on all those now in their agony!/ Look down graciously, O Virgin of Wonders,/ on all those in need of succour!/ Look down mercifully, O sweetest of Mothers,/ on all those who have not the security/ of being numbered amongst thy children!/ Look down tenderly, O Queen of Purgatory,/ on the poor souls!”

PRAYER OF PETITION

“(The prayer used by St. Simon Stock when he received the Scapular from the Queen of Heaven.) Priest and People:”O beautiful Flower of Carmel,/ most fruitful vine,/ splendour of heaven,/ holy and singular,/ who brought forth the Son of God, still ever remaining a pure virgin,/ assist us in our necessity./ O Star of the Sea, help and protect us!/ Show us that thou art our Mother!” (Here pause and privately name your special intentions.) Priest:”O Mary, conceived without sin!”

People:”“Pray for us who have recourse to thee.”

“Mother, Glory of Carmel!” “Pray for us.”

“Patroness of all who wear the Scapular!” “Pray for us.”

“Hope of all who wear the Scapular!” “Pray for us:”

“St. Joseph, Chaste Spouse of Mary!” “Pray for us.”

“St. Simon Stock!” “Pray for us.”

PRAYER OF SCAPULAR DEVOTEES. Priest and People:”O most blessed and immaculate Virgin,/ Ornament and Splendour of Carmel/, thou who regardest with an eye of special kindness/ those who wear thy blessed habit,/ look down also benignly upon us/ and cover us with the mantle of thy special protection./ Strengthen our weakness with thy power,/ enlighten the darkness of our minds with thy wisdom;/ increase in us faith, hope, and charity./ Adorn our souls with such graces and virtues/ as will ever be pleasing to thy divine Son and to thee./ Assist us in life,/ and console us in death,/ with thy most amiable presence,/ and present us to the most august Trinity/ as thy devoted servants and children;/ that we may eternally bless and praise thee in paradise. Amen.”

PRAYER FOR OUR COUNTRY AND FOR THE WORLD

Priest and People:”O Lord Jesus Christ,/ Who in Thy Mercy hearest the prayers of sinners,/ pour forth, we beseech Thee,/ all grace and blessing upon our country and upon its citizens./ We pray in particular for our leaders of Church and State,/ for all our soldiers,/ for all who defend us in ships, whether on the seas or in the skies,/ for all who are suffering the hardships of war./ We pray for all who are in peril or in danger./ Bring us all,/ after the troubles of this life,/ into the haven of peace,/ and reunite us all together forever,/ O dear Lord, in Thy glorious, heavenly kingdom.”

Priest: “Hail, Mary, etc.”

People:”Holy Mary, etc.”

Priest:”Glory be, etc.”

People:”As it was, etc.”

HYMN OF ST. SIMON STOCK FLOWER OF CARMEL,

Vine blossom-laden, Splendour of heaven, Child-bearing maiden, None equals thee!

O Mother benign,

Who no man didst know,

On all Carmel’s children

Thy favours bestow,

Star of the sea!*

*300 days” Indulgence each time for Scapular Confraternity members.

Imprimi potest:

JOSEPH E. NUGENT, O.Carm., Comm. Gen.

Nihil obstat:

F. MOYNIHAN, Censor Deputatus.

Imprimatur:

@ DANIEL MANNIX,

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis.

20/1/1945

********

Science As The Enemy of Truth

HILAIRE BELLOC: ESSAYS

INDEX

Science cannot be opposed to truth, for it is no less than a part of truth itself, as discovered in a particular sphere. But those who practice physical science may have a corporate spirit which is warped, opposed to true philosophy and therefore to beauty and to goodness. That is exactly what has happened in the development of physical science and of the socalled “scientific” criticism of documents during the last two centuries. The misfortune has happened because the advance in scientific method came after the break-up of Europe and of our common religion. The Process is now reaching its climax in an effort to persuade men against the belief in a beneficent conscious omnipotent Creator, the moral sense and the freedom of the will.

I

“SCIENCE IS THE ENEMY OF TRUTH.”

That sentence reads absurdly, for it is a direct contradiction in terms.

The definition of science is: “A body of facts ascertained to be true by proof such that we cannot admit their opposite.” Thus the fact that water boils when we subject it to heat is a piece of science. The fact that man must have air to breathe if he is to live is also as much a piece of science as the most complicated or the newest result of chemical research.

The word “Science” today is commonly used, and will be use d here, in the more restricted sense, as meaning the body of ascertained fact relating to the physical world; to the behaviour and history of animate and inanimate objects. The word “scientific” will be extended from physical science to the exact scrutiny of documents, to the examination of records, political and social, and to the critical analysis of literary remains.

The whole point, then, of science being that it is a body of ascertained truth, manifestly the assertion that “Science is the enemy of Truth” makes nonsense.

Yet many men today would by implication at least show their agreement with that phrase, “Science is the enemy of Truth”; and the number of those who feel this more or less consciously is increasing. On seeing a passage beginning, “Science has proved . . .” or “There is no scientific evidence for . . .” or “Examined in a strictly scientific spirit . . .” and so forth, men are becoming more and more predisposed to quarrel with what follows. They are filled with an “I know all about that!” feeling. On hearing of some method that it is “Scientific” they are at once prepared to find it leading to ridiculous conclusions. They do not feel instructed; they feel warned. Habits of eating, clothing and everything else suggested in the name of “Science” they constantly discover to be inhuman, degrading or simply silly. The term “Scientific” applied to some recommended habit is beginning to have something grotesque about it, as likely to be in opposition to the general conclusions of mankind and our human common sense. As for the name “Scientist,” it has fallen on the worst fate of all. It is becoming something of an Aunt Sally, and to call a man a Scientist is perilously near making a laughingstock of him; unless you add the word “distinguished,” which turns him into a statue.

Further, this word “Science” and its derivatives is beginning to be associated with unreliability. The high priests of science yesterday loudly affirmed as eternal truth what today they have to be silent upon because it has been proved false. Yet the new supplanting doctrine is as loudly affirmed today as was the discredited one yesterday-and as it will itself be denied again tomorrow.

Under the influence of such experiences, although few men will as yet pronounce the words, “Science is the enemy of Truth,” yet more and more men practically agree with that statement in their emotions. More and more are they associating the word “Science” and its derivatives with the idea of being bamboozled, or annoyed, or presented with incomprehensible absurdities or with truths solemnly affirmed to be eternal and yet bursting at frequent intervals, or with what is manifestly contrary to experience. Now, what is manifestly opposed to experience, or absurd, or unstable is clearly at issue with Truth.

Yet I say again, the phrase “Science is the enemy of Truth,” is a contradiction in terms.

How, then, has this state of mind arisen? Why can one write down with the certitude of receiving so much hearty, though often only indirect, agreement, “Science is the enemy of truth”? To understand the matter let us write down another simple phrase:

“Drink is the enemy of health.”

Here is a phrase to which millions of men and women will give enthusiastic support. Yet on the face of it this phrase also is a contradiction in terms. Health is a term signifying the perfect physical functioning of the human body. Drinking is a term signifying the absorption of liquid by the human body. But to the functioning of the human body at all, let alone perfectly, absorption of liquid is essential. Man must drink to live, let alone to keep his health. Men kept from drinking, as shipwrecked sailors are, die mad in a short time.

How, then, can you say: “Drink is the enemy of health”?

To those who would object to the phrase the reply would come at once: “You know well enough what I mean; the drinking of stimulants is the enemy of health.” But to this reply, in turn, will come the answer: “Not so; we have all known masses of people who drank wine and beer regularly, and were perfectly healthy.”

To which would come the further answer: “Yes; you do know what I mean. I mean that the drinking of stimulants to excess is the enemy of health.”

So there we have it. All language is shorthand; any sentence to express reality must be modified indefinitely; and so it is with the sentence: “Science is the enemy of Truth.”

For this let us write, “The Modern Scientific Spirit is the enemy of Truth,” and we shall have it pat. The modern scientific spirit as applied to daily practice, to life, and to letters, and, above all, to religion, is the enemy of truth.

This is my thesis, and very important it is. The Modern Scientific Spirit being the enemy of truth, is the enemy of right living and of human happiness, and if it is not tackled, humbled and set right, will lead us to misery.

II

The Modern Scientific Spirit may be defined as the practice of Science under a false philosophy; that is, the research and establishment of ascertainable facts in the physical world but the application of those facts in an irrational and perverted mood. In other words, the Modern Scientific Spirit is always looking for, and finding, facts in order to misuse them.

Begin by remarking an important historical point; the increased interest in physical science which has been the mark of modern times and the increasing use of what are called “scientific methods” in the writing of history and in the critical examination of literary documents, did not produce the false philosophy under which it now works and which is doing all the harm. It found the false philosophy well launched, fell under its influence when young, and has remained captured by it ever since.

In Science, physical, documentary, or of any other kind, there cannot be inherently a false philosophy, for truth does not contradict truth. Mankind has been at Science since men have been men, and within their limited range the animals are practicing science all day long. A bird which gives up at last the attempt to fly through a glass window has arrived through experiment and conclusion at the fact that the glass is not penetrable by him and ceases to entertain the idea of the opposite. The burnt child who dreads the fire has done a little work in Science, so has the whole human race in its tremendous achievement of our original civilization, which is incomparably greater, in extent as well as in quality, than the added results of the last few generations. Whoever first cooked meat, or first framed something like a plough, or first carved an image, was doing a bit of scientific work: discovering and establishing fact by experiment and applying that fact to the uses of mankind. There was not and could not be anything of perversion or falsity attached to so necessary, permanent, original and enduring a human process, anymore than there could be to breathing or to sleeping.

In particular, we may note that the chief characteristic in the particular philosophy of the modern scientific spirit, Monism-Doom-is as old as the hills. The denial of Free Will in the universe, the subjecting of all happenings to necessary fate, was not begun by modern biology. It was a perverted mood into which men tended to fall from the earliest recorded times; and during the break-up of our Christian culture four hundred years ago. Calvin was the powerful prophet of it long before anythingthat can seriously be called “modern” physical experiment began. Spinoza, in another way, was also a prophet of it, long before modern physical research had taken on its later characteristic extension.

And if this is true of the chief error, it is true of the accompanying minor errors. Deism [or Pantheism], Rationalism, stand to the development of the modern scientific mood not as children, but as parents. Having gone off the rails of sound philosophy because the social forces around them shepherded them into the wrong way, the pioneers of modern physical science [for the most part] started under these misconceptions and read them into all they did, handing on the tradition to their followers. Bad reasoning and a bad application of what they found were not the product of what they found. They did not [for instance] gradually come to disbelieve in the possibility of miracle because they had proved it impossible by experiment. They disbelieved in it already, before they began experimenting, and were confirmed in their disbelief by observing, with owlish wisdom, that miracles did not commonly take place in the routine of physical cause and effect. They were ready to be confirmed in their mistake, and the particular work in which they were engaged especially lent itself to so confirming them.

III

The capital, the fundamental sin of method [not of creed] in what we call the Modern Scientific Spirit, is the substitution of Numerical Synthesis for Integration.

Other accompanying errors of method allied to and in particular proceeding from this capital error shall be noted; but before proceeding to them it is necessary to explain the terms used and to show why the substitution of Numerical Synthesis for Integration as a method of arriving at truth is calamitous, and, far from leading one to truth, debars one from attaining it.

We mean by integration that faculty in the human mind whereby it is able to combine an indefinitely large number of impressions [colloquially we say: “an infinite number of impressions”] in order to arrive at reality.

For instance, if a man seeing another man coming towards him along a path says: “Here comes my friend, Brown,” he is quite certain of the truth of what he says, and he is right to be certain. His mind has not created an image, but appreciated an external object, and his judgment is coincident with that object.

But he has not noted every detail characteristic of Brown. He has not catalogued one by one the gestures and the gait, the elements of the contours and all the rest of it. He has received an indefinitely large number of indefinitely small impressions and combined them, without addition, into one immediate whole.

It is the same with a taste, with a colour, with the recognition of anything. A man sees the truth that a distant vessel is of such and such a rig, if he is familiar with that rig, though the indications, if he were to set them down, would seem each individually quite insufficient, and even any sum of them insufficient. Or take what is perhaps the most lucid example of all, the recognition of a type of tree. A man looking at a tree a good way off says with complete certainty, if he is acquainted with such trees: “That is an oak.” He cannot see the individual leaves, and if he did he would be a great fool to go over them one by one and not be sure of his oak until he had examined them all. He would be a great fool if he went on to say: “Well, the leaves seem to be all right; but now I must look closely at the bark and I must have a section of the grain, and what aboutthe shape of the boughs?” He, as we say, “knows an oak tree when he sees one.” And that “knowing” is a process of integration. It is the immediate combining of an indefinitely large number of indefinitely small indications into one short flash of communion with reality.

The metaphor of “Integration,” the best I know in this connection, is taken from mathematics, in which science the word “Integration” is used of arriving at a result through the consideration of what are called “infinitesimals”; an infinitely great number of which, for instance, give the formula of a curve.

This God-given faculty of Integration is the just and only method of perception we possess: I mean, of perception sufficient to bring us into touch with reality and to recognize a thing. It is our only way of truth. We use it in every moment of our lives, and in proportion to our vigour in using it are we sane.

Integration lies at the basis, not only of our recognizing things, but of our judgment upon character and events. Thus, we say that one man “is of good judgment,” because he integrates well, though he may not be able to give reasons for his judgment; and another man “of bad judgment,” because he integrates badly, although he piles up reasons and calculations over much. Hence, also, we say that good judgment is based upon experience, and hence do we rightly mistrust a man’s judgment in practical affairs-other things being equal-when he is inexperienced in the particular matter involved, however well he knows the theory of the business.

Now, the Modern Scientific Spirit has more and more fettered itself with a different, false and almost contradictory method of arriving at truth.

It adds together numerically a comparatively small number of ascertained truths with regard to any object and then propounds its conclusion, as though by possession of these few gross certainties it had a sufficient basis for that conclusion. What is more, it very impudently puts forward such a conclusion against the sound conclusion arrived at by the powers of integration present in the common man.

I shall never forget a personage of my early youth who gave us boys lectures in chemistry [for the honour of my old school I must say that it was not at this school that they were given]. He came out one day withthis enormity: “A diamond is therefore” [Oh, glorious “therefore”!] “the same thing as a lump of coal.” Why, a man might go to jail for pretending that they were the same thing! A diamond is not a lump of coal, and a lump of coal is not a diamond. The Science of this lecturer was the enemy of Truth.

Upon one line of analysis, insofar as the gentleman in question had knowledge, a lump of coal gave the same results as a diamond. They both, along that one line of analysis, presented themselves as what he called “carbon”; and “carbon” was what he called an “element,” and an element consisted of hypothetical “molecules,” in which there was but one kind of hypothetical “atoms.” The atoms he was quite sure were atoms of carbon, and therefore [Oh, glorious “therefore”!] the diamond and the carbon, whose difference stared him in the face, were the same thing. But we infants knew very well they were not the same thing. Nor are they the same thing. Though most of us were of the middle class, we had seen diamonds-and with coal we were all familiar. We had done our little integrations in these affairs, and we knew that a man who could call a lump of coal a diamond would call cricket, football. Along one line of analysis cricket and football are both games. Along another they are both played with a ball. Along another they are both of English origin. In each case “Experiment on independent lines confirms the hypothesis of identity.”

Nevertheless, to affirm identity between them is to talk rubbish.

The Modern Scientific Spirit is at war with common sense and with universal judgment-that is with truth- principally because it has fallen into this false method. But there are many other allied errors in method which it commits.

It is perpetually presenting hypothesis for fact. In the matter of interpreting [not establishing] documents the whole of the Higher Criticism is a mass of that. Three quarters of the terminology of modern chemistry is a mass of that, and modern geology reeks with it. It was not so long ago-a lifetime at most-we were told, not as an hypothesis, but as a fact, that the earth was a molten mass with a thin crust, upon which we walked about precariously, as on an egg-shell, the boiling stuff bursting out at volcanoes. It was an hypothesis to explain many evident phenomena, including the increase of heat with depth, but it was only an hypothesis-yet it was put forward as an ascertained truth. Today the “scientific” earth is fairly solid. Tomorrow it may be hollow.

Again, the Modern Scientific Spirit revels in false authority; that is, in substituting for proof assertion backed by a name.

I have under my hand as I write a very amusing little instance of this. Common sense reasonably presumes from tradition, from a knowledge of how books are made, from an appreciation of the tone and sincerity of the writer and so forth, that the Acts of the Apostles were written by one man, a companion of St. Paul, and that companion St. Luke, the author of the Gospel. Yet I find seriously given, as a sufficient rebuttal to this process of integration, the following formidable rollcall of gentlemen, “Hilgenfeld, Holtzmann, Overbeck, Hansrath, Weizsacher, Wendt, Schürer, Pfleiderer, von Soden, Spitta, Jülicher, J. Weiss, Knopf, Clemen, Konigsmann, De Wette, Baur, and Zeller.” I know nothing of their work; I do no more than copy a list from a received text book, but it is a typical list. I am asked to believe the Acts of the Apostles to be a mixture of forgery and patchwork, and when I ask for rational proofs I am given a magic formula of oracles. It is no good saying that all these worthies have laboured. I’m sure they have-too much. The point is that this citation of mere names is the common form of Science today, and on it we are expected to pin our faith-in the irrational.

Again, the Modern Scientific Spirit, you will be distressed to hear, is perpetually using the same word in two senses, one of the commonest errors into which dolts have always fallen. An excellent example of this is the use of the word “Natural Selection” to mean two totally different things.

(a) The undoubted truth that adverse conditions tend to kill off a type and favourable conditions tend to continue it.

(b) The creative power of this process accounting for all organic differentiation.

Thus, a biologist of repute at Oxford, having been challenged for an actual case of Natural Selection in the second sense, gave the instance of black moths which lived side by side with white moths in a certain wood. The trees of the wood were dark pines; with the result that the white moths had a bad time, being easily picked off, while the black moths flourished. But when the trees of the wood were gradually replaced by light colored birch trees, it was the other way about; the white moths flourished and the black moths diminished. Surely it hardly needed great learning to expect such a result! But the Scientist mixed up that obvious result with a totally different thing, to wit, the turning of the black moths into white moths through the new birch plantation. That was what he had to give an instance of, and he thought in his muddled way that what he did give was on all fours with the instance required of him.

Indeed, this use of the term in two different senses during the same argument is repeated constantly, as when you get the word “health” used to mean now what it normally means, and again, what it may connote, but does not necessarily connote, longevity. As in the phrase: “The climate was thought unhealthy, but scientific observation has shown that thedeath rate is lower than in surrounding districts.”

We have another even more common example of it in the dreadful muddle with the word “creation,” as in the phrase: “Modern Science has made the idea of creation inconceivable, for we now know that living organisms invariably proceed from other living organisms.” Mark the mixture of ignorance and indolence in a sentence like that and admire the foison [abundance] of folly in it! It uses the word “creation” in two quite distinct senses, to wit, mediate and immediate creation, as though the two were identical. It affirms that we know what we don’t know and perhaps never shall know. It ascribes to a powerful MumboJumbo called “Modern Science” a marvellous new discovery which has been a commonplace with the whole human race from immemorial time-the fact that in general experience you only get chickens from eggs.

The Modern Scientific Spirit revels in unproved and unexplained postulates; as in the case of Renan, who at the opening of his book on the history of the children of Israel [I quote from memory] tells us point blank that the human race did not arise at one place but in many. The postulate that physical cause and effect must follow the same process in any place and at any time runs through the whole of modern scientific assertion. It is reasonable enough, but neither is it self-evident nor is demonstration attempted. It is admitted, of course, that all proof must have its postulates. You always come back at last to something which must be held and cannot be proved. But even so, you can and should give reasons why you hold it, although those reasons are not of the nature either of experimental or deductive proof. But nine times out of ten your Modern Scientist puts forward his postulates, by implication at least, in circular fashion, basing them upon the conclusions drawn from them. For instance, he postulates that light behaves outside this world as it behaves here. But his confidence is based upon experiment made here. The least he could do would be to say: “I postulate-for I cannot prove it-that light follows the same laws under non-terrestrial conditions as it follows under these conditions-where alone I experience it.” But he hardly ever does that. Huxley was great enough to do it, but Huxley was exceptional. The run of modern Scientific writing takes its form of faith for granted and does not even know that it is a faith. [emphasis added]

Yet another error, and one exceedingly common in the action of the Modern Scientific Spirit, is the confusion of categories; and a bad mark of stupidity it is, since the chief mark of intelligence is the distinction of categories.

For instance, there is that perpetually recurrent error of confusing proof with analogy, as when the scientist tells you that a general similarity of body-structure in different animals proves a common ancestor. Then there is confusion of certitude in one process with certitude in another; for instance, the confusion between certitude in a mathematical identity with certitude in an observed physical phenomenon, as when a man says that we are “as certain the earth is round as that two and two make four.” There is also confusion between the categories of things immediately observed and things inferred, giving to the last the same degree of certitude as to the first; as when one confidently assures you that a prehistoric being of whom he has but a handful of broken bones carried on like a known contemporary savage.

There is the error of regarding a long chain of hypothetical conclusions as equivalent in strength to the best established link in the chain, instead of the strength of the weakest link-and so on. But the worst error after that original sin of substituting numerical synthesis for integration is the closely allied error of assuming universal knowledge.

Now, this folly will, I know, be indignantly denied in a chorus by all those who commit it. As for assuming universal knowledge, they profess themselves to be groping from one ascertained truth to another; to be of all men the most ready to admit their ignorance of what is not in their province, and the immensity of the field still remaining for exploration.

Of course, they are not conscious of their error; if they were they could be cured of it. But see how they go to work! One will tell you that a bottle of Richebourg of 1921 [such as may be drunk with profit in the Three Pheasants at Dijon] is “the equivalent” of a flask of whisky, because the “alcoholic content” is the same; presupposing so universal a knowledge as can put in their right order of importance all the other things in which the two liquids differ, leaving the “alcoholic content” the outstanding mark. Another will tell you that the climate of one place which makes you ill must be the same as the climate of another [in which you thrive], because all our existing means of measurement give us similar results for the two in heat and cold and damp and barometrical pressure and the rest of it. This is to presuppose that there are no other elements in climate which we cannot measure, or that if they exist they are unimportant because we cannot measure them. It is to presuppose that the speaker knows all there is to know in the matter of climate.

IV

In social practice the fruits of a false philosophy are more important than the false philosophy itself. The greed, ugliness and vice of a Calvinist town affect us in practice more than a misstatement on Election and Efficient Grace. So the mischief done by the Modern Scientific Spirit is most felt, not in its errors of reasoning, but in the established school or fashion under which its exponents are moulded. The exponents and imposers of that Spirit bear certain unmistakable characteristics throughout the modern world, and one knows them for what they are as one knows a jockey or a prize fighter; they are one kind. To point out that there are exceptions: that many of them have humour: that some even are capable of doubting whether they are so certain, after all: that great names among them are even of a kind quite opposite from the general run, does not contradict the truth that they form a general body, and almost a corporation.

There is nothing extraordinary about this. What is extraordinary is that it should not be yet fully recognized, though I think it is being more and more recognized as time goes on. There have always been fashions or schools of this sort. There have always arisen in the group of learned professions a corresponding group of characteristics, of underlying presumptions in thought, of effects on conduct, which have no necessary connection with the subject studied. Thus, your classical scholar in one university has his mark, “the stamp of the trade,” your classical scholar in a foreign university will have perhaps a somewhat different mark, but a mark of the same species.

For, indeed, Classical Scholarship as the Renaissance advanced, developed a certain body with which to clothe its soul. One may curiously inquire how it is that a wide and precise reading in the dead languages produces these characteristics, just as I shall shortly examine why certain characteristics in the average modern scientist have arisen; but one must everywhere recognize that these are concrete attributes not directly connected with the abstract functions of a trade, but standing to it as clothing does to the body.

In the case of the Classical Scholar a few of these outward characteristics may be evil, some of them are rather ridiculous, but most of them are estimable, and many of them excite our ardent and just admiration. It is evil in him to think scholarship greater than virtue; it is ridiculous in him to exaggerate the importance of making false quantities in Latin. It is estimable in him to have so much taste; it is most admirable to be filled with the profound and vivifying culture which the Classics alone can give-for it is impossible to be steeped in the great works which lie at the roots of our civilization and not be enlarged and nourished thereby. But the corporate marks of the modern Scientific exponent are not, for the most part, admirable.

What is admirable in him are not marks peculiar to his corporation. One is accuracy in detail. Another is industry. Another devotion to the research undertaken. Another is candour: an error having been committed, it is always acknowledged in what is called the “Scientific world”; further experiment, modifying what has been hitherto accepted, is not usually boycotted. Though there is necessarily jealousy among scientists, as there always will be among the members of the same profession, there is more generosity than in most callings. And the last and by far the finest in this list of the better characteristics in our Scientists is an indifference to wealth, such as you may find, indeed, in most men absorbed in any occupation, but particularly here. There are exceptions, but they are rare. It is almost a commonplace that the robbers of finance can prey at will on the Scientist, and it is to the honour of the Scientist that it should be a commonplace.

Unfortunately there are many other less admirable characteristics which very strongly mark the Scientific corporation as a whole. I think it will be of interest to catalogue some of these seriatim.

First, I remark a set of characteristics in them exactly corresponding to what the Scientists themselves used to denounce as “priestcraft”; what may be called the “Mumbo-Jumbo” group-and Heaven knows it applies a great deal more to the scientists than it ever did to the priests of any false religion.

Part of this is the “Superior information” business: telling the layman that he cannot follow the difficult process by which a result has been arrived at, and that therefore he must take it on trust. There is also something of an hieratic language, but of a very undignified type: litanies of words barbarously compounded from Latin and Greek, sometimes in a mixture of the two with the vernacular. Part of this is no doubt necessary; one must have technical terms, one cannot be forever explaining. Still, there is a very damnable plague of what plain people call “long words.”

There is also the Marvel. Here the scientist has a most powerful instrument, the more powerful that it does not pretend to depend-as in the old Pagan priestcraft-upon an irrational process, but upon methods which anyone can use if he will give up his time to them. The Scientist will be forever showing us that things are not what they seem, expatiating upon the astonishing character of Scientific achievement. Thus, I read in a book which has sold by scores of thousands under the name of a chief scientific authority in the department of physics, that the hypothetical “electron” is “at once everywhere and nowhere”-and this nonsense is swallowed whole by people who smile at the mystery of the Trinity.

Even as I write, my daily paper publishes the conclusion of a Scientist that after accurate measurement of sound he can show the London of Motor Buses and the Pneumatic Drill to be a haven of quiet compared to the old London of Hansom Cabs.

From this solemn hieratic humbug, comes the habit of speaking of fellow pundits in terms of reverence and awe, calling upon us outsiders to worship them, ascribing to them all manner of rare virtues, and even, when things go wrong, dubbing them “martyrs.”

There is by the way no more absurd example of “Scientific” Mumbo-Jumbothan this last. A “martyr to science” should properly mean one who bears witness to scientific truth by submitting to suffering rather than recant his conviction. In this sense men are indeed martyrs to scientific truth who sufficiently anger the Scientists by pointing out their mistakes. Samuel Butler in his day was a martyr to science, in that he suffered for being a pioneer in challenging the folly of the Darwinians. But our new priesthood does not use the word “martyr” in this sense at all. They apply it to a man who is blown up in the course of a chemical experiment, or who dies of a disease caught in a medical one. And as for “the gulf between clergy and laity,” which was made such a grievance of against real priests; it is nothing to the gulf between the ignorant herd and Scientific Persons. They show a corporate and almost universal contempt for the man who has not had the leisure to go through all their studies, but who can bring valid criticism to bear on their laughable conclusions; they do not meet his criticism in its own field, they appeal to Status, to their own necessary and unapproachable superiority.

I have found that very horribly true in my own department of history. Your “Scientific” historian having concentrated on one tiny section, on which he has become, he believes, an expert-at the expense of all other knowledge-is always disdainful of, and sometimes furious against, the man with a wide range of general knowledge, who is properly equipped for exposing the expert’s absurdities. Thus, I have known not a few specialists in medieval documents who have argued by the volume on the size of the Virgate [approximately a parcel of land measuring 30 acres], and who had no idea what a team could plough in a day and even [what is really monstrous] were ignorant of what is meant by the word “fallow.” I have found an expert in other medieval documents who assured me that a city- a city of the fourteenth century-with half as many parish churches as London, with walls three miles round, and so crammed full of people that it had burst out into suburbs beyond those walls, had less than six thousand people living in it. The other experts were all with him. How did they fall into such nonsense? By divorce from common sense and relying on a document. There happened to have survived one fragmentary parchment which it was imagined gave a full list of the male inhabitants of over fourteen years of age in one district. On that basis was the myth built. When it was pointed out that a list comprising all males over fourteen would have the same surnames repeated over and over again, and that this list did not show such repetition, they boggled. The “Scientific” mind was astonished to hear that unless surnames are frequently repeated in such a list it cannot be a complete list of males.

Not a long time ago, when the scientists were still talking about an imaginary stuff called ether, they gave it qualities which were contradictory and the sum of which made arrant nonsense. It was, as a great man has well said, no more than “the nominative of the verb to vibrate.” But when the plain man pointed out that they were talking nonsense, how angry they were! They must be glad, I think, to have scrapped the thing. It was high time.

They suffer from a fatuous glory in perpetual revelation and ceaselessly proclaim to the common man hidden treasures suddenly revealed-discoveries with which their unfortunate audience have already been familiar for a lifetime.

The best example, I think, of this is the original and still prolonged scientific attack upon the Gospel of St. John; which we are solemnly assured is quite different in tone and manner from the Synoptic Gospels. We are bidden to open our eyes to this revelation, to rejoice in the new and dazzling light-whereas I suppose there was not one of us, though he might not know any language but his own and might have read but half a dozen books outside his Testament, who could not find out for himself in ten minutes that the tone and style of the Gospel of St. John is different from that of the Synoptics.

But there are plenty of other instances. It is only the other day that in the department of chemistry a great authority announced to the world in clarion tones that profound research had proved margarine to be less nutritious than butter.

Yet another scientific authority, after duly making the experiment upon a dozen selected typists [male typists let us hope!], announced his discovery that a little “alcohol,” as he called it [I will bet it was whisky] stimulated them at their work, but a good deal more made them dull and inaccurate, while a still larger dose [he gave it all in decimals of centilitres] rendered them perfectly incapable of typewriting at all.

But apart from the weakness of the Modern Scientific Spirit in playing at Pontificals, there is a weakness of logic. They mistake accumulation of items, irrespective of weight, for cogency; thus, having found one relic of the past which may or may not be of such and such an age, they argue as though to find thousands of such relics would make the guess at the age more accurate. Again, when they set out to sustain a theory they arrange their evidence in a shamefully irrelevant fashion, which plain reason condemns. In biology and anthropology they are specially guilty of thus manipulating proofs to fit theory, instead of testing hypothesis by experiment, which is their profession.

Not one, but a hundred, firstclass authorities on anthropology give us detailed accounts of men’s behaviour before recorded history began. In most of these accounts man is described as something repulsive, the better to confirm the reader’s vanity. In all there is drawn a picture of something which the writer never saw and never knew, his inferences for the making of which are of the flimsiest kind, built, some of them upon conjecture, most of them upon nothing; yet the stuff is put forward as confidently as though it were the description of a real experience, in a contemporary place, of things which the writer himself had seen and heard.

There are innumerable examples of this sort of thing. The late Andrew Lang had plenty of fun with Fraser’s Golden Bough, and its hypothesis of the “Sacrificed Divinity Royal.” He showed how good evidence, doubtful evidence, and no evidence at all were all put on a level, and how the object of the writer was not to judge by evidence between various possibilities, but to force evidence for a preconceived thesis. Indeed the very soul of this exceedingly unscientific sort of science is forcing facts to fit theories; and any theory can be made to look true if you ignore evidence against and arrange the evidence in its favour cumulatively instead of giving it in the order of value. Indeed, the Golden Bough is a feast for satire.

I could have shown you some years ago an exhibit in one of our scientific museums where a row of skulls several yards long ran in series like a railway train, from a very flat little thing at one end, which was that of I know not what ape, to a big round thing at the other, which was the skull of I know not what modern criminal or Saint. There was a long ladder of gradations in between, so that the whole row proceeded charmingly to the desired end of suggesting that they had come in succession by regular development from first to last. It was most convincing-because the arrangement was artificially made. Had it been naturally made in order of time or of place, or in order of resemblances in the rest of the skeleton, it would have produced a very different effect.

And talking of this, I remember another series abroad, where some typically “Scientific” dealer in comparative religion had set on parade a regiment of little statues, each representing a mother with a child in her arms and ending up with a glorious specimen of Our Lady and the Infant Jesus, a triumph of the thirteenth century. Here again there was the most carefully continuous arrangement, the object being to “prove” that the reverence we pay to the Mother of God was as false as the reverence the most degraded savage had paid to his grotesque fetish. Even had the order been genuine, it would have proved nothing of the kind; it would only have meant that as religion must be expressed in certain symbols there will be something in common between the symbols of the false religion and of the true, and that there is in every false religion, even in that of the materialistic scientist, something of reality. But the order was not genuine; it was artificial and false. Some of the statues had nothing to do with any religion but were natural representatives of a familiar group. Others were from family shrines where the representation of a mother and child would be equally natural. The whole series was not arrayed in order of time or of place but only so as to suggest that the Divine Mother and Child are not Divine at all, but man-made-as statues are.

We reverence Our Lady because she is the Supreme Mother, the Mother of the Incarnate Word; and the whole meaning of the Incarnation is that it is human as well as Divine. We represent Our Lady with the Little Lord in her arms in order to emphasize the union of the human and the Divine which the historic event called the Incarnation means. A Pagan moved to worship will naturally yearn for a similar union of the human and the Divine, and though he has it not he will symbolize his desire. His desire will call up a phantasm, which in our case is no phantasm, but a reality. All this the scientific gentlemen who artificially arranged the row of statues never allowed for and probably never heard of.

There is one more head to be added [there are many more, but one most important], the Modern Scientific Spirit has lost logic, and so remains blind to proportion and therefore ignorant of essential things. It not only abandons logic, but sneers at it. It has produced in its votaries an open negation of reason, presuming an opposition between logic and reality. It is this abandonment of reason which leaves them contemptuous of theology, the highest intellectual exercise of the human race. And it is through their consequent blindness to scale that the Scientists are contemptuous of the humanities and of exalted things.

Now, if at the end of such a catalogue I be told that it is an outrageous caricature [and I am sure I shall be told that], and if in proof that it is a caricature there be named to me one exception after another-a few Modern Scientists who seem to have none of these intellectual failings, some who suffer from certain of them but not from others, and so on-I answer that, by the same process, you could make out any general descriptive category of Professional Character to be false.

Take my own profession, that of letters. It can justly be brought against us writers, and particularly against those of us who wish to be thought poets, that we are vain and touchy, and that we put art before morals. There are plenty of other heads in the indictment against us, but those two are the main ones. They are pretty bad-also they are perfectly true.

It is of no consequence to tell me that poet Brown, now happily dead, was thick-skinned, or that Poet Smith, still living, is humble, or that Poet Jones, rather than offend good morals, destroyed his best work and remained obscure. The truth is true of the mass of them; we have today such a herd of poets caracoling about, and such a vast army of prose writers crowding the marketplace, that we can generalize with certitude; my profession as a whole is vain, touchy, and careless of morals.

So with the exponent of the Modern Scientific Spirit. So with the man who is the typical Modern Scientist. We are always hearing that the true Scientist is distinguished for the virtues opposite to those vices which I have just catalogued. The true scientist is particularly humble; he never affirms a thing as certain until it is proved beyond the shadow of a doubt, and he always gives his proofs. He never quotes a mere name as authority. Pseudo-scientists and mere popular writers on Science may go on like that, but the true scientist doesn’t. I am afraid this true scientist is like “Nature’s gentleman” and the “moral victory,” the first of which is rarely a gentleman and the second never a victory. The Modern Scientific Spirit is, in the main, as I have described it and its exponents; its priests of lesser and higher degree suffer from those errors in mental attitude, in method, and in intellectual process which make their teaching the enemy of truth.

V

Let us ask ourselves how this tone of mind grew up. What influences were at work to create this lamentable Modern Scientific Spirit? To seek an answer to such a question is of practical utility, for you cannot attempt to remedy an evil until you have understood it, and you cannot understand it until you have some knowledge of its causes.

The causes in this case, being buried in that profound and multiple thing, human character, largely escape us; but some main causes I think we can trace.

First we have the mechanical process which in the case of documentary criticism consists largely in mere counting; and in physics in the mere establishment of regular recurrence.

That the scientific worker should be limited to this tedious and lifeless round is necessary. He should be pitied for being under that servitude, not envied for it, still less admired for its effects upon him. Subjection to such a mechanical round is in the very nature of his trade. It is as inevitable to his work as muddiness is inevitable to a hedger and ditcher. If he could take it humbly, and if the man who is perforce occupied in this mechanical life admits his limitations, no harm is done to him or his readers; on the contrary, he is very useful, he is adding to our stock of knowledge. But if he allows the worst effects of such a life to warp his philosophy the result is ill indeed.

Thus, in the case of the Modern Scientific Spirit applied to documentary investigation we have such examples as the following [let one stand for a thousand]:

The writer is setting out to prove the favourite “scientific” thesis that a certain portion of Holy Writ was not set down by one writer, but is a sort of quilt or patchwork in which there are “strata” from various hands-any number of them, so that it be not the natural number one.

The critic proceeds as follows:

“In the 480 verses of Chapters I to XII and in Chapter XV there are only 188 words which are not found in the rest of the book and in the corresponding gospel. According to this proportion, only 38 such words should be discoverable in the verses of the 16th, 20th, 21st, 27th and 28th Chapters. But the actual number is three times as many. Again, in the first-named and larger part of the work there are 657 words [excluding proper names] which are wanting in the corresponding gospel. Therefore in the lesser section, which is about one tenth of the whole, we should expect about 66 such words; whereas there are 162, nearly two anda half times as many.”

From which solemn piece of elementary numeration it seems that a whole string of so-called authorities have decided that the lesser part of the document proceeded from another hand than the greater part!

Face nonsense of this kind openly and tell me what you think of it? What you will think of it if you have ever written anything creatively yourself I know very well; the idea that a writer always uses the same vocabulary and always in the same proportion is nonsense. But it needs no personal experience in authorship to see what rubbish the whole thing is. Apply the same test to almost any living writer at random and you will see it fail. Besides which, are books, especially vivid books, written as a fact in”strata”? Are they not, must they not be, in the nature of things written by one author? Of course they must! Yet the method has been applied, not only where the object was to destroy the authority of Holy Writ, but where it was only an object to destroy tradition at large. We have been asked to believe that great poems of antiquity were written in this composite fashion. How is it no modern ones were?

With the scientific spirit in physical research there is the same mechanical taint as in documentary criticism, though in this case it is not of its nature ridiculous, and only does harm when it affects the reason. The scientist engaged in physical research must be forever watching identical recurrence of cause and effect, always seeing the same results following upon the same preliminaries. Mechanical habit in this case breeds in him a blindness to the extent of will and of diversity [of which will is the cause] throughout the universe.

It need not blind him. He can say to himself: “When I conduct a new experiment, I am only watching what is normal in any natural sequence. It is no new discovery to find such sequence invariable in my new experiments; it is equally invariable in the oldest experiments. Man has known from the beginning that if you threw a stone into the air it would fall to the ground. But that has not prevented him from believing it possible that an occasional miracle might arrest its flight.”

I say that the daily habit of watching invariable phenomena need not make the mind itself mechanical nor blind to the multiplicity of will, but presumably it tends to do so, especially if it be not corrected by an ambient true philosophy, but predisposed to a false fatalistic one.

Next the scientific practice breeds a habit of certitude which the vulgarwould call “cocksureness.” The great mass of the results arrived at are certain, demonstrated over and over again, and never failing. There follows a tendency to two particular habits in the mind thus occupied: First, the habit of thinking that certitudes can only be arrived at experimentally; next, that hypotheses, the least certain of things, are themselves certitudes.

If a man deny that two substances which have been named oxygen and hydrogen disappear under some circumstances and that their total mass reappears in a completely different substance, which we call water, he is denying a certitude arrived at by physical science. But if he doubt the theories by which this strange transformation is explained, he is not denying a certitude; he is only challenging something of its nature uncertain and saying that the hypothesis should not be put forward as fact. But the man steeped in scientific work easily comes to confuse the one type of denial with the other. He will think that the sensible fellow who challenges the fantasies of theory is doing so from the same blockheadedness as might make a fool challenge ascertained truth. And that is why [as I shall repeat at the conclusion] this essay, if it is read at all, will be called an attack on Science.

Next, your Scientist has acquired a habit of achievement in knowledge: in knowledge not possessed by the mass of other men. This breeds in him a natural pride, and from that root, I think, spreads that extraordinary presupposition I have noted, unconscious, but very much alive, that the scientist is possessed of universal knowledge. Hence I take it [to be] the mood shown in the example of climate which I gave above; the mood which presumes that, when all that can be measured by our present instruments and methods is stated, there has been stated all that exists in the case.

Next, a cause of the Modern Scientific Spirit’s disease would seem to be the exclusion from consciousness of all that is not measurable by known and divisible units; because the scientific method can only deal with results recorded in known and divisible units. Thus, the physical scientist tends through habit to a state of mind in which qualities not so measurable seem negligible or imaginary; hence the loss of the sense of beauty-the loss of all that is qualitative; the loss of distinction and of hierarchy, in sensation.

But the last cause of intellectual evil in the Modern Scientific Spirit is different from all of these, and may be thus expressed: Anyone can, with patience, do scientific work. It demands no individual, still less any rare, talent. The reward of scientific work in Physics or Record, the fame which it achieves, has nothing to do with the intellectual or creative ability of the man whose name is attached to it.

The result of this is that intellectual ability, critical or creative, will be at a discount among scientists, for fame is in every form of activity a criterion of success. To excel in playing the violin, or in majestic architecture, or in lovely painting, or in verse, you must possess exceptional qualities. Of a thousand men only a few could be taught to paint even fairly beautiful things; perhaps not one in such a number could reach the fame attaching to genius. Of a thousand men only a few can write tolerable verse; not one in a thousand or perhaps in a million will ever write good poetry. But anyone of common mental and physical health can practice scientific research, whether in physics, or biology, or history or literary documents. Anyone can count the number of times in which the word ingens occurs in the Aeneid and compare the proportion of its frequency there with some other Latin poem. Anyone can test style by mere number; it takes special talent to savour style, and it takes genius to understand it fully.

Anyone can try by patient experiment what happens if this or that substance be mixed in this or that proportion with some other under this or that condition. Anyone can vary the experiment in any number of ways. He that hits in this fashion on something novel and of use will have fame. He who, having hit upon a series of such things, comes to some very obvious conclusion through the coordination of that series, will also have fame. The fame will be the product of luck and industry. It will not be the product of special talent.

So with the scientific historian. His card indexing of innumerable documentary points will produce some results, and from these there may emerge an important discovery; but it was not even a flair which made the discovery: still less a genius for perception. It was not a talent for visualizing the past, it was not a profound understanding of human nature by which he could explain some happening, it was nothing more, intellectually, than is the setting up of ninepins in a row or the pricking of a lot of little holes in cardboard. It was essentially a mechanical operation.

Now observe the consequences of this and compare those consequences with similar consequences in other fields. It has been a commonplace throughout the ages that men famous for their race and lineage and inherited position were often surprisingly stupid. Why? Because when we hear that a man is eminent we naturally, though unreasonably, associate with the idea of his eminence something special to the man himself; such as courage, or brains. But there is no particular reason why an aristocrat should be more intelligent than a plebeian. The chance of finding a hero among a hundred lords is not a large one, anymore than it would be among a hundred peasants.

In the same way the eminence attaching to the mere possession of great wealth disappoints us nine times out of ten, especially if the wealth has been accumulated rapidly. For great wealth is accumulated rapidly by cunning or chance, or a mixture of the two. Cunning has nothing to do with high qualities; it is rather a presumption against them; while chance has nothing to do with them either. Therefore it is that men are always complaining after meeting So-and-so, that he seemed to be astonishingly stupid, though he made a million in ten years and started as a pauper. Most such men are stupid, compared with what we expect of them, but they are not stupider than the run of men; it is only the contrast between what they are and what we expected to find in them which makes us emphasize their very normal and average lack of parts.

So it is with the Scientist. Industry coupled with chance gives in his field of activity the reward of fame. Very great men indeed are to be found among the scientists, but it is not a scientific sense that has made them great; it is always some other talent. With Huxley, for instance, one of the very first of English names, mastery over the English tongue and an admirable intelligence were marks which would have singled him out in whatever activity he had undertaken. But side by side with him you have many another who has become equally or more famous through the mere accumulation of a mass of data by brute observation. Such plodding, carried, on patiently and stupidly for the better part of a lifetime, may stumble on an important result-or may not. And for so stumbling on it no superior capacity is required. The same is true of scientific blundering or floundering into the apparent evidence for what turns out, later, to be false. Darwin’s idea of the origin of species is an excellent example to the point. He accumulated a whole mountain of facts tending to establish development, or as it is now vaguely called, “evolution.” In one department, that of human descent, what he had to say was very probably true [At the time the author wrote this book of essays (1931), the great bulk of evidence showing Evolution to be unfounded and without scientific basis had not yet been published.-Editor, 1992.], but plenty of others had thought of it before him; in his only new contribution, his theory as to how evolution worked, he has proved to be simply wrong. Yet, so far as the fame of the marketplace is concerned, Darwin is more famous than Huxley.

In general, the man who takes up the scientific method, whether in physics or history or in documentary criticism, takes it up with the more zeal because he knows that it is within the compass of the meanest intelligence. There is nothing to deter him. He can begin at once and work on those lines all his life, and myriads will be doing the same thing with equal pertinacity. The reward of fame being haphazard and having no quality about it, it follows that the scientific spirit tends to disregard quality.

And there is another consequence of all this. Since the most famous scientist need not have any intellectual claim to fame, . . . But, being famous, his opinion will be reverently sought on a host of matters where it is worthless and especially on the nature of the universe, of morals, of society, where he has no sort of standing; and here he will challenge, in his innocence, such giants as Suarez and Aquinas whom he has never read.

VI

The evil done by the Modern Scientific Spirit [I wish there were some shorter and simpler name for it] is due to its prestige. It exercises an authority over men through the awe and admiration in which they stand of it.

The causes of this prestige are plain enough. Modern science, that addition to human science which has been made since Christendom broke up-and especially since the definitely anti-Christian movement of the eighteenth century- has achieved many great things, some of them startling in their novelty, others in their scale, others in their satisfaction of a need; and all these three types of achievement which are sometimes coincident have produced a profound effect upon the modern mind. It is distantly parallel to the effect produced by the wonder-worker, coupled with the effect produced by the hero who slays dragons, with the addition of the effect produced by an enormity.

Thus the sudden appearance of flight, the equally sudden appearance of the talking machine, had a violent effect through novelty. Wireless has an effect, through enormity; it is the scale of the thing that impresses-to be able to talk through space to the ends of the earth. And again, rapidity of locomotion satisfies what is, for many, something of a need, while universality of mechanical locomotion has satisfied for the modern man living in modern cities a very urgent need-which was to get out of them.

Sometimes all these three effects of modern science are coincident, and the new discovery not only satisfies a need, but is astonishing in scale and suddenly novel as well.

Those who can speak in the name of that which has done such things naturally have prestige, and if that prestige is mixed up with a false philosophy they naturally become the vehicles and promoters and propagators of that false philosophy.

That the harm done through false action upon the soul is greater than the advantage obtained through the new material good must be admitted by anyone who has the elementary sense to observe that we only feel happiness or unhappiness through the soul.

Thus, to transport the human body rapidly from one place to another cannot be good in itself; it is only a good insofar as it satisfies what may be called, in the largest sense, a spiritual need: that is, insofar as it fulfills the desire of a living soul. But if the same men who by research and accumulation of practice have made it possible thus to transport the body rapidly are by a false philosophy tending to make men’s lives ugly, miserable, evil and untrue, then they will only transport unhappiness; and unhappiness transported quickly is not better but worse than happiness transported slowly.

And here there should be remarked the curious connection between the success of modern science in one set of purely material things and its almost invariable concomitant of failure in another set of things equally material. Nearly all that Modern Science does, not only fails to fulfill the promise of material happiness, but carries with it some quite definite material evil, quite apart from moral evil. For instance, rapid transport has brought about something like a permanent massacre. It is making us callous to an appalling tale of deaths by violence and horrible suffering in the infliction of such deaths. It puts at the command of men far below the average income a new material good; power of covering great distances and thereby enjoyment of changing scene. But it accompanies this power with a vibration and din which are abnormal and the ultimate physical effects of which must be disastrous. Modern Science reproduces the human voice mechanically and the sound of musical instruments, but in the reproduction there is always something incomplete and usually something metallic and offensive. It enables us to build on a greater scale more rapidly, and more strongly than before; but the new material seems doomed to produce horrors, and the newly enlarged scale to increase them.

Now, this combination of success and failure is not accidental, it is organic; it proceeds from a spirit which regards important things as unimportant. Had that spirit, for instance, understood the value of leisure and quietude, it would have developed its mechanism with those ends in view. It has not understood them. In the same way Modern Science has given us cheap and regular heat indoors during cold weather, but it is so particularly offensive a form of heat compared with that of the open hearth that those who can afford it are pathetically constrained to imitate the old, healthy fireplaces and their glow, even while submitting to the new inconvenience. But even if these material, corporal evils were not present, that spirit would still be an evil; for whatever is opposed to truth will be opposed to goodness and to beauty. [emphasis added] That is why we have before us the effect today of such a spirit in the abominations of the latest architecture and the latest sculpture and the hideous applications of Science to war, and the destruction of comfort in the name of “Hygiene”!-a typically “scientific” word for the common word Health. But perhaps it is as well to use another word than health, for hygiene has by this time come to connote something different indeed from health.

VII

The evil we have been here examining is of first rate importance. It attacks the whole field of man’s life and it attacks with particular virulence those good things which are the very chief factors in man’s life; those things whereby life was in the past made tolerable.

Notoriously and upon all sides the spirit of which I speak is attacking true doctrine, that is, the Catholic Church. If it continues in power unmodified that spirit will sooner or later wage open and direct war against true religion, as it has for so long waged covert and indirect war against it.

IT FURTHER TENDS TO CUT US OFF FROM OUR PAST AND FROM TRADITION; BUT SOCIETIES CUT OFF FROM THEIR TRADITIONS AND FROM THEIR PAST WITHER. [EMPHASIS ADDED]

It has begun to confuse and to atrophy the power of clear reasoning. It has long made deeper and deeper inroads into the sense of beauty, which it may at last destroy.

It is our business, then, to combat the Modern Scientific Spirit with all our might.

As a rule it is much easier to point out an evil, and even to analyze its nature, than to prevent it or to suggest a remedy for it. Happily in this case the remedy is obvious; it can be briefly stated and appreciated the moment it is set down. The evil spirit of which I speak is a fashion. It is no more than a fashion. It is a corporate mood, the strength of which depends upon the tyranny of fashion. Now the solvent of any bad fashion is ridicule.

Our weapon against the Modern Scientific Spirit is ridicule-persistent, active, untiring; and never was there an easier target for the exercise of that salutary spiritual activity.

The Modern Scientific Spirit is patently open to attack by laughter from a hundred points, both in its theory and in its practice, and above all in the pretensions of its priesthood, high and low. Its muddle-headedness lies open to the simplest analysis. Its self-contradictions can be tabulated by the score and are being added to daily. Its stupidity can be goaded, its pompous habit of baseless assertion exposed, its hideous creations in apparatus pilloried; there is not an aspect of it which does not lend itself to our shafts or which has any shield except obscurantism.

It has no defense against the attack of ridicule save continued and loud self-praise, reiteration, and perhaps [with the baser parts of society] clumsy appeals to lethargy.

Thus where it is riddled by the use of logic it can turn to its dupes and say, “Do not listen to this, it is only logic chopping. You would not bother with such a flimsy highbrow thing as logic, would you?” Or it can play the trick of confusing the issue, in which the master example is a confusion between Science proper and that which calls itself the Scientific Spirit.

With an appreciation of that form of defence I will conclude. It is the only serious obstacle to our advance against the silly but dangerous thing which pretends to speak in the name of true knowledge.

I have noticed that wherever the evils and perils of the Modern Scientific Spirit are attacked, those wounded in the attack and wincing from the pain of it raise, almost always, the cry that Science is being attacked; just as men who propose some foolish war in which the national finances may go under and which can be, even if victorious, of no profit, shriek that those opposing their policy are no patriots; just as a drunkard in his last stages still complains that those who would wean him from his mortal vice are the enemies of good-fellowship. I will bargain that of those few who have done me the honour of reading or skimming through this very long essay, some goodly proportion will lie open to this confusion of ideas and will need the warning that those who attack the perversions of Science are not attacking Science itself, but defending it. [emphasis added]

There is not, and cannot be, any quarrel between sane reason and the search for truth. Our quarrel, and it is a serious one [I should say, in the long run, a mortal one], is with a moral atmosphere which, so far from making the discovery of truth its aim, is what I have called it: The Enemy of Truth. It is the Enemy of Truth because it is an enemy of the human reason and of the only methods whereby reality may be grasped.

The accusation that an attack upon these evils is an attack upon the immemorial human glory called Science must necessarily have some effect, and an effect widespread in proportion to the stupidity of those for whose benefit the accusation is made. Let that be no check to the efforts of those who have already begun, by ridicule, to break up the foundations of the maleficent structure. It is only a matter of pertinacity and time. Ill fashion always yields at last to the comic spirit, if that spirit be maintained. Laughter has already shaken those walls and, prolonged, will make them crumble.

********

Send For The Priest

BY CANON F. E. PRITCHARD

INDEX

Whenever there is an invalid in the house the priest ought to be told. His visit should never be looked upon as a danger signal. After all he is a friend, not an undertaker; and visiting the sick, a great work of mercy, is an important part of his vocation. So give him a chance when need arises in your home. And do remember that, except in country districts, the fact of your having illness in your house will not be broadcast. The priest, who is not all-knowing, may hear nothing about your trouble for days, or even weeks, unless you tell him. In these days, too, when the hospital or the nursing home is the usual place for people to be ill, the place to which they are whisked off at the first vacancy, you ought to notify the priest at once.* It is not so easy, either for priest or invalid, to get to business in a hospital ward. Moreover a sickness which begins with God’s Blessing will be more cheerfully borne, and a cheerful invalid recovers better and more rapidly than one who is harassed and sad. Priests are cheerful visitors and spread God’s Peace; while sickness very often flings open the door for Grace.

THE FIRST OBJECT

Unless your sick call is for one in immediate danger, the first object of the priest will be to get into touch with the invalid. Very possibly the visit may end in nothing more alarming than a cheery”God Bless you,” and a promise to call again in a day or two. Contact has been made, but just as the doctor does not give his views in the hearing of the patient, so the priest may wish to have a little talk with the relative in charge. Accompany him to the door of the house and tell him all he wants to know. His questions will not be prompted by idle curiosity. Quite often, too, he may be able to help in less immediately professional ways.

On the other hand, it must not be imagined that even when the sick person has become unconscious it is too late to call the priest. The goodness of God has provided even for this misfortune. So long as life remains the priest is able to reach out, as it were, even into the unconscious and the last chance of Salvation is not yet gone. There is nothing sadder than the thought of a Catholic dying without the help of those Sacraments which were instituted for him as means of salvation and of which in his last hours he has so much need.

SEND IN GOOD TIME

Therefore send for the priest, in good time if possible but, if necessary, even in the middle of the night. And, whenever you send, make sure that you send him all the information that can be of use. It is well to write it down. Say who is ill and at what address. Tell whether the sick person is a Catholic or only anxious to become one. Say the nature of the illness and whether the patient is conscious or not; whether able to swallow or unable to do so without vomiting. Mention also if any other priest has been called, and if so, whether he administered any Sacraments. All this is very useful. Try to send a grown-up Catholic with the message. In urgent cases if the messenger can wait to accompany the priest, so much the better. It will certainly save time, which may be all-important.

BE READY FOR THE PRIEST

In every Catholic home one expects to see some objects of piety and in a sick-room a crucifix, at least, should be visible. On Candlemas Day, 2nd February, those present at Mass usually receive a blessed candle. If several members of the household are present, each one receives a candle, so that there may be several in the home. Holy Water, too, may be had at church for the trouble of taking it away. These, then, with a small table, a small white cloth, or a table napkin, a wineglass or an egg-cup, and a tea-cup or saucer should be stored within reach for immediate use. Choose a

* When the patient is removed to the hospital it is most important to tell the Sister in charge that your friend is a Catholic and wishes to see and be visited by the priest who attends the hospital. The case of nursing homes is still more urgent. Unless you tell the priest yourself, the patient may die without any priest being notified at all. convenient spot in the sick-room, not too close to the bed, but within the range of the sick person “s eyes. Then, when the priest is coming, arrange the table as a small altar. Put the clean cloth on it; put the crucifix at the back in the middle, either leaning against the wall or stuck into something that will hold it upright. The candles are arranged one on each side in a line with the crucifix.

THE PLACE FOR THE HOLY WATER

The holy water, in the tea-cup or saucer, is put near one candle, together with a fresh sprig of privet or other greenstuff cut from the nearest hedge, to be used as a sprinkler. This should be in the holy water to avoid mistakes. The wine glass or egg-cup containing fresh drinking water is put beside the other candle, and a box with a match or two should be handy. Leave plenty of space in the front-middle of the table for the use of the priest. Should you have no candlesticks, a couple of old meat-paste jars can be made to serve. But even if you have none of these things do not get hot and bothered. Just tell the priest in your message, and he will bring his own. But there must be some clean place, where the Blessed Sacrament can be laid, and there must, at any rate, be something with clean water in it for the patient to drink after receiving Holy Communion. Also there must be a chair by the head of the bed for the priest to sit on while hearing the sick person’s confession.

TO BE KEPT READY

To resume. The following articles should be kept ready for the visit of the priest to administer any Sacrament: (a) TABLE NAPKIN or SMOOTH TOWEL to serve as ALTAR, CLOTH.

(b) FOLDED HANDKERCHIEF to go under communicant’s chin.

(c.) TEA-CUP or SAUCER for holy water, and SPRIG of GREEN to sprinkle with.

(d) VERY SMALL HOLDER FOR DRINKING WATER, e.g., WINEGLASS or EGG-CUP. (e) THREE CANDLES. HOLDERS OF SOME SORT FOR TWO of them.

(f) CRUCIFIX TO STAND or LEAN AGAINST WALL.

(g) SMALL STORE OF HOLY WATER (NOT Lourdes water).

(h) SMALL TABLE for”ALTAR.”

(i) CHAIR for the priest to sit on while hearing CONFESSION.

HOLY COMMUNION

When anyone is house- or bed-ridden for a considerable time, even though there be no danger of death, Holy Communion should be received as often as the priest thinks right. The procedure for Holy Communion in the house never varies. It is the same for Holy Viaticum as it is for weekly or monthly reception.

AWAITING THE PRIEST

Someone should be waiting near the entrance with a lighted candle. As soon as the Blessed Sacrament arrives this light is carried before the priest to lead him to the sick-room. Here, the table has been prepared overnight and the candles are already burning. Walking straight to the table the priest deposits his Sacred Burden in the middle and says certain Latin prayers, sprinkling the sick and the others in the room with holy water. Then, all go out of the sick-room and, closing the door, leave the priest to hear the invalid’s confession. When this is over, the door will be opened, as a sign that all who wish may enter. They genuflect and take up their position, kneeling out of the gangway. One (or all) now repeats the Confiteor preferably in Latin, and then the priest, turning towards the sick, gives the general absolution. The appointed person now puts the folded handkerchief under the chin of the communicant. Taking the Host and showing It, the priest now says, three times, the”Domine non sum dignus.” Then he communicates the sick person and returns to the table where he attends to the pyx (the silver box in which he brought the Host), and then hands the glass or cup containing drinking water to the person in charge, who helps the patient to take a drink. (Any water which remains over should be poured out on to the earth in the garden or into the fire, when the priest has gone.)

If he still bears the Blessed Sacrament the priest will now turn round and make the sign of the cross with It over the people, in which case he must be conducted to the front door by the candle-bearer with lighted candle, and in silence. If he be not taking Holy Communion elsewhere, he will turn round and give an ordinary spoken blessing, signing the cross as usual with his hand. He may or may not say prayers beside the bed according to his own judgment.

N.B.-If the patient is a woman she should have her head covered just as in church, as also must any other ladies in the presence of the Blessed Sacrament,

THE ANOINTING OF THE SICK

This Sacrament, commonly called Extreme Unction, and badly mispronounced at that, has suffered from its name. It is the bad and slovenly habit of too many, when translating, to jump at similarity of spelling and to conclude that there is identity of meaning, which is an error. But this is not an essay on philology or any kindred subject. It is enough to say that Extreme Unction has no special connection with being, as they say,”in extremis.” Any Catholic who is seriously ill may be anointed. It is the last kind of anointing given by the Church. Babies are anointed on back and breast and head when they are baptized. At Confirmation we are anointed on the forehead. In the making of a priest his hands are anointed, when he becomes a bishop his head is anointed; and kings, of old, were called “the Lord’s Anointed” for the same reason. There remains only one more form of anointing, hence called the Last Anointing or, in Latin form, “Extrema Unctio.”

WHAT THE CATECHISM. SAYS

Extreme Unction, as the Catechism tells us, is”the anointing of the sick with Holy Oil, accompanied by prayer.” It is true that this Sacrament may not be administered unless there is danger of death, but its secondary object is to remove that danger if God so wills, and it frequently does so-one might almost say more frequently than not. It is the doctor’s best auxiliary. How so? Because it completes the spiritual work of the Sacrament of Penance, removing all the vestiges of sin from the soul, and soothing away trouble. and anxiety. The patient is at peace, and medicine and treatment have a far better chance to achieve their purpose. Therefore the Sacrament should be called for and clamoured for, and not put off till disease has reduced patients to a condition from which nothing but a first-class miracle can deliver them. The Sacrament does not work miracles-it acts, as it were, naturally on the body, through its supernatural effect on the soul.

PREPARATION FOR ANOINTING

When therefore the priest in attendance considers that the patient should be anointed, the table should be prepared as for Holy Communion-cloth, crucifix, candles, holy water, but no drinking water, unless the patient is to communicate. See that the feet of the sick person are uncovered, and that the bedclothes will easily be turned up when the time comes. If Holy Communion is to be given it will precede the anointing, and will be given precisely as above in the section on that Sacrament. Immediately afterwards the anointing will be administered. The priest will require assistance only at the anointing of the feet, unless the patient is comatose or unconscious. The bystanders will say the Confiteor when so directed, and will kneel and pray silently while the sick person is being anointed. The anointing takes place on both eyelids, both earlobes, both nostrils, compressed lips, palms of both hands, and insteps of both feet. At each pair of anointings the prayer is that the Lord may forgive”whatever sins thou hast committed by”-sight, hearing, smelling, tasting and speaking, touching, and straying. When the whole ceremony is ended the priest will require to wash his hands after wiping off the oil with cotton wool and a little bit of stale bread, which are afterwards burnt. Then take him to the door, without candles or ceremony.

AFTER THE ANOINTING

After a patient has been anointed it is usual for the priest to pay short visits for prayer at frequent intervals-if possible every day. It might help if you arranged for these visits a time which would be convenient for both. And it might help the patient if the altar remained in position and the candles were lighted whenever the priest’s visits took place.

THE LAST BLESSING

The Church has by no means finished with the patient when the Anointing of the Sick has been administered. Besides the frequent visits of the priest, and a wealth of special prayers for the sick and dying, there is the final gift of the Pope’s Blessing and the Plenary Indulgence which latter comes into operation at the very moment of death. The ceremony is exceedingly simple, the result incalculable for eternity.

When this blessing is given by itself all that is necessary is a crucifix and some holy water. The crucifix should be put into the hands of the dying person.

TO GAIN THE INDULGENCE

It is necessary that the patient, in order to obtain the benefits of this great gift should, while the blessing is actually being given, call upon the Name of Jesus saying,”My Jesus, Mercy,” either with voice, or if that be no longer possible, at least in his heart. If there is danger of delirium or of coma approaching before the priest arrives, then the sick person should be urged to say this prayer at least in heart, with the intention of gaining the indulgence when it is administered. For it appears that this is a necessary condition for gaining the indulgence. It is also advisable that the patient should be helped to resign all things to the adorable Will of God and to accept sickness and even death from His Hands saying,”Thy Will be done.”

FOR THE BLESSING

When the blessing is given the priest will say the usual introductory invocation of Peace upon the house and will then ask someone present to say the”I confess.” And that will be all. When the blessing has been given and the crucifix placed against the lips of the dying person, you precede the priest to the door and open it for him. The lengthy, though beautiful prayers for the dying should not be said all at once, but one now and then, while it is most useful to say very slowly the same invocation over and over again. “Jesus, Mercy” is one of the very best, and the old standard invocation seems always more than welcome:”Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, I give you my heart and my soul. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, help me in my last agony. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, may I breathe forth my soul in peace with you. Amen.”

“WHEN A PRIEST CANNOT BE HAD”

This is conceivable even in a big city. Sudden illness, accidents, heart attacks, are not unusual: babies, too, whose baptism has been postponed for some reason, good or bad, are apt to sicken and die. So it is well to know what is best, against the evil day when one may suddenly be called upon to act.

First, however, in importance is the question of baptism in danger of death. This seems simple, but it MUST be done properly or it may easily be in vain.

ALL DONE BY ONE PERSON

In the first place all must be done by one person; the water must be poured by the one who says the words. Secondly, the water must flow over the actual skin of the body, and preferably the forehead. And thirdly, the words must be said while the water is poured. If the water does not flow it is probably in vain. If it does not touch the actual skin, whether because of hair, or oil, or grease, or for whatever reason, it is certainly in vain: And only when the water is poured on the head is it done as the Church decrees. The amount of water to be used need not worry us. An excellent plan is to dip two fingers in water and gently but firmly wash a small patch of the child’s forehead free of grease. The water is then poured, e.g., with a spoon, on the moistened patch, and as the water begins”to trickle the words must also begin:”I baptize thee, in the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost.” It does not matter if the trickle ceases before the words are finished so long as it accompanies the words for some little way. Trickle and words, employed by one person only, are the necessary parts of baptism, and any clean water will serve. But be it remembered that no lay person may baptize if a priest can be had in time. It would be a mortally sinful usurpation of a priestly function.

When a baptism takes place in the above circumstances it must not be forgotten (a) that the Parish Priest must be informed at once, and (b) that should the child survive it must be taken to the church without delay for the rest of the Baptismal Blessings and Exorcisms and Anointings.

SUDDEN ILLNESS

Suppose a sudden illness and the impossibility of getting a priest, what should one do? The patient cannot be left and there is nobody to send. Moreover, perhaps there is great pain and languor, and human nature suggests that the sick person be left to die in peace. But Eternity may be at stake. Gently but firmly say to the invalid something like this:”You are very ill, you may be in very great danger. So we will make a little act of sorrow for all your sins. The priest may not be in time. Kiss this crucifix. Now listen while I pray. Join if you can: O my God, I am very sorry that I have so often sinned against Thee, because Thou art so good, and with Thy Help I will never sin again. My Jesus, Mercy. Mary, my Mother, pray for me. St Joseph, pray for me. My dear Guardian Angel, stay with me.”

Above all,”Jesus, Mercy.” This can be said at intervals of a minute or two, and is, believe me, most helpful. Per- severe with it, till you are quite certain that the sick person is beyond your reach. Hearing lasts long after the power to move or speak has gone for ever.

AFTER DEATH -HOW THE ROSARY IS PLACED

In arranging a Catholic body it is usual to interlace the dead fingers with the rosary and to arrange them on the breast at about waist level. It is practically impossible to join the hands palm to palm and the other way is just as satisfactory. It is usual, when possible, to have a crucifix and two candles in the room with the dead. Also a small vase of holy water and a feather, or sprig of green, to sprinkle the dead when visitors come to pray. A handkerchief should be laid over the face of the departed and only removed when special request is made. Some people are willing to pray and to sprinkle holy water, who cannot easily look upon the dead features, and this should by no means give offence. God has made some callous and others sensitive. Blessed be His Holy Name.

THE BODY BROUGHT TO THE CHURCH

Subject always to considerations of health and charity, every Catholic is entitled to have his body brought to the parish church for the Funeral Service. Arrangements for this should be made with the clergy who will know at what time the church will be available.

As soon therefore as possible go to the Parish Priest to announce the date proposed for the funeral in agreement with the undertaker, and to arrange for the bringing of the body into the church. Offerings should now be made by those who can do so, but the Funeral Service is entirely free in the case of the poor. It is clear, however, that poverty cannot be pleaded in conjunction with elaborate external pomp ; if this is indulged in, the customary Church Fees must be paid.

In Catholic funeral arrangements a car should be provided to take the priest and his servers to the cemetery. This car goes immediately in front of the hearse.

It is desirable, though not necessary, to have the appointed Mass said in the presence of the body on the morning of the funeral, but if this be not convenient, the Mass can be said earlier or later in the week.

In all these matters it is simpler and easier to consult the local clergy than to go by a book, however simplified.

Do not expect the priest either to deliver a homily or to accompany you home after the burial. He may do either or both, but it is often a very heavy burden.

AFTER THE FUNERAL

Remember the Dead after their funeral. They can no longer help themselves. Do not waste money on flowers or elaborate funerals, but rather multiply Masses for the Faithful Departed. Remember the bitter cry of the Patriarch Job, which the Church has placed in the mouths of the dead,”Have pity on me, have pity on me, at least you my friends, for the Hand of the Lord hath touched me.” And do not forget the promise of Our Lord Himself which is also a warning:”With the same measure that you shall mete withal it shall be measured to you again.” Let us prepare for our own approaching departure by constant remembrance of those who have gone before, and so we shall lay up for ourselves treasures in heaven.

SICK CHILDREN, TOO

When a child under the age of seven is taken seriously ill, always notify the priest as soon as possible. The Church has provided blessings for sick children and they are meant to be used.

One cannot help noticing that children, even of very tender years, on their sick bed often seem to have a sharper and clearer understanding than they have in perfect health. Of course, once a child has been considered able to receive the First Holy Communion, that child must be treated as an adult in matters of religion, and so, when in danger, must be both anointed and fed with the Holy Viaticum.

Should such a child die, the obsequies are just as for a grown-up person and prayers and Masses are to be offered for its soul.

But should a baptized infant die, or even a child that has not been considered sufficiently mature to be admitted to the reception of Holy Viaticum, the funeral will be the Ceremonial for Infants and, where possible, the Mass of the Holy Angels will be offered in the presence of the little body, in thanksgiving to God for the Children’s Glory, and to beg consolation for the parents in their loss.

Stillborn or unbaptized infants cannot receive Catholic burial at all. But as to what may be their fate in the next world we are in ignorance. We have the words of the Lover of little children Himself: Unless a man (quis) be born again of water and the Holy Ghost he cannot enter into the Kingdom of God (John. iii, 5). We know too, that”God so loved us” (i John iv, ii). Therefore, the general view of Christians is that the poor little ones will not be unhappy but will enjoy a certain natural happiness; knowing, loving, and serving God in a purely natural way. Nevertheless, parents whose neglect may be responsible for their children not having realised their supernatural destiny will have a terrible judgment to face. Indeed, it is written concerning the mere giving of scandal to a child, a remediable evil, that it were better for that man”that a millstone should be hanged about his neck and that he should be drowned in the depths of the sea” (Matt. xviii, 6). But how much greater than scandal is it to deprive “these little ones” for all eternity of that for which they were sent into the world?

********

Seven Ways To Win Converts

BY REV. JOHN A. O’BRIEN PH.D

INDEX

CHART. I—PROTESTANTS ARE MORE THAN TWICE AS ACTIVE IN WINNING CONVERTS THAN CATHOLICS

The overwhelming majority of Catholics have never tried to win another person to the Faith they cherish! This astounding fact came to light in a recent survey. A cross-section of Church-going Americans answered two questions:

1. “Have you ever tried to get anyone to join your religious group?”

2. “Did you ever succeed in getting anyone to join?”

The replies of Catholics, representing 20.6 million, showed that 72 per cent had never even tried to get anyone to join the Church. Of the 28 per cent who tried, only 17 per cent succeeded. (See Chart 1,)

IN CONTRAST TO THAT FEEBLE EFFORT, THE REPLIES OF ALL PROTESTANTS, REPRESENTING 53.3 MILLION, SHOWED THAT 59 PER CENT HAD DEFINITELY TRIED. OF THESE, 43 PER CENT SUCCEEDED! (SEE CHART 2)

The epoch-making survey sponsored by the Catholic Digest brings into relief the following significant findings:

1. The overwhelming majority of Catholic lay men and women have never so much as lifted a finger to win a convert for Christ.

2. Protestants are more than twice as zealous as Catholics in seeking converts.

3. Catholics need to learn effective techniques of winning converts.

While all the survey findings are of interest, one is of paramount importance. Of all the Christian groups in the United States, Catholics make the feeblest effort in seeking to recruit new members for their faith. The result is that the Church with more than 42,000,000 members is gaining only the pathetically small total of 140,000 converts a year. Three hundred Catholics average but one convert a year-undoubtedly the lowest average of any Church in all Christendom.

It is obvious that a small band of 54,682 priests (very old figures. ed.) cannot personally reach 100 million churchless people scattered over a vast continent. Only through the zeal of the layman will we be able to fill the spiritual void in the lives of millions of our countrymen.

This calls not for proselytizing but for evangelizing. There need be, and indeed there should be, no stirring of religious controversy, no attacks upon other faiths, no offensive intrusiveness. Our concern is with the millions of churchless people at the centre of whose being there is spiritual emptiness.

There is a real danger that if direction is not forthcoming from Christians those without faith will drift into atheistic communism. Every dictate of patriotism and of Christianity urges us, then, to share. with these churchless millions our precious Christian heritage.

But mere interest in convert-making is not enough. Knowledge of the best techniques must go with it. The Bureau of Convert Research at the University of Notre Dame, the only one of its kind in the English-speaking world, recently set out to determine these techniques. It analysed 1,000 case histories of conversions to discover the answers to two questions: 1. What sparked the interest of the prospective convert? 2. What convinced him of the truth of the Catholic religion? The analysis disclosed seven basic techniques. One. of these, or a combination of several, showed up in virtually every case.

A widespread dissemination of these seven basic methods is of the utmost importance. An actual case with the names of the individuals and places involved will exemplify each.

1. SETTING A GOOD EXAMPLE

“For 27 years I had been looking for God in .history books,” wrote Dr. Thomas Brady, distinguished historian and vice-president of the University of Missouri. “But where I finally found Him was where I had never looked-in the Catholic Church. The person who helped me to find my way into that Church was my wife. Her faith, devotion and holy life did more to bring me into the Catholic Church than all the books I”ve read, helpful though many of them were.”

In making that statement Dr. Brady merely voiced a truth recognized by all who study the mysterious workings of divine grace. God chooses human beings to be the channels of His grace more frequently than any other agency.

“I was 22, a student at Harvard, and a long way from home at Christmas,” Dr. Brady said, “when I first set foot inside a Catholic Church. A devout Catholic fellow student sensed my loneliness and invited me to attend the Christmas midnight Mass at the Holy Cross Cathedral in Boston. It made a deep and lasting impression upon me.

“Two years later I was a graduate student in history at Harvard. In the spring of 1926 I ran out of money. I went to the chairman of the History Department to ask advice. He looked up my grades, talked with me briefly, then wrote out a cheque for the amount I needed. “This is a little gift,” he said, “and it will help you over the hump.”

“That kind man was Robert H. Lord, a convert to Catholicism, who later became a priest and died as pastor of St. Paul’s at Wellesley, Mass. That one of the first Catholics I ever knew should do this made a deep impression on me. I remember he asked if I was a Catholic, probably because of my name. When I replied that I wasn’t, he said that it made no difference.

“The Dominican priest Father Regan instructed me briefly before my mar riage in December, 1934, in Denver. He was very kind and he gave me a word of advice I”ve never forgotten. “You will learn a lot about the faith,” he said, “living with a good Catholic.” The full truth of that I was to learn only through the years.

“I read a great deal of the writings of St. Augustine, St Thomas Aquinas, Car dinal Newman and C. K. Chesterton, whose The Everlasting Man impressed me deeply. Conversion didn’t come to me like a bolt of lightning, as it did to Paul on the road to Damascus. It was a slow, gradual process that took place over the years.

“The Sisters were teaching me as they taught our children. The first catechism I ever saw was the one that Tommy brought home. But most eloquent of all as my wife’s example. Her prayers, piety and life were a constant, though unspoken, sermon telling me of the strength, serenity, and joy derived from the practice of her faith. Only the most perverse person could live with a good Catholic for years and not feel a tremendous attraction towards the Church.”

2. BRINGING A PERSON TO MASS AND CEREMONIES

Every sincere truth-seeker who comes into the presence of our Eucharistic Lord departs a better person. So Dorothy Kellerman, a student at Southern Illinois University, found out. Dorothy is a great faith-sharer.

“I live in a residence with 12 other girls who belong to various denominations,” Dorothy remarked. “They fre- quently attend the services of churches other than their own-going now with this roommate and then with that one. I happen to be the only Catholic there.

“The girls noticed the regularity with which I went to Mass each Sunday at St. Francis Xavier Church. One day Jeanne Tilmann said: “Dot, I”m not a member of any Church but I can see how much you get out of your religion. I”d like to go with you some Sunday if you don’t mind.”

“I told her that I”d be delighted to have her come. She was impressed with the reverence of the worshippers and the earnestness with which they prayed. She noticed that they weren’t visiting or gossiping with one another but acted as if they were really in God’s presence.

“I gave her a rough outline of what the Mass was and lent her my missal so that she could follow the prayers. She came from Okawville, where there are quite a few Catholics, many of whom she knew. This helped too. She was eager to know more about our religion.

“I brought her to Father Robert J. Flutsch, pastor of St. Francis Xavier Church, for instruction. I was her godmother and knelt at her side when she made her First Holy Communion.

“My other convert, Hilma Lorrens, was also a schoolmate at Southern. We spent two summers together at camp, the first as counsellors and the next as cooks.

“Every Sunday I would get up early while the rest stayed in bed. I”d go to Mass and still get back in time to help cook breakfast for the group. Hilma noticed this.

“ “GEE!” SHE SAID, “YOUR RELIGION MUST MEAN A LOT TO YOU IF YOU GET OUT OF BED SO EARLY AND TREK SO FAR. I”D LIKE TO LOOK INTO IT.I”VE AN ADDITIONAL REASON NOW THAT I”M GOING WITH A CATHOLIC BOY.”

“So I invited her to come along with me on the following Sundays. She was greatly impressed and wanted to learn the whole story.

“She was going to spend some time in the town of Murphysboro so I told her to see a priest there and get a course of instruction. She did, and I had the joy of acting as godmother at her baptism and of kneeling at her side when she made her First Holy Communion.

“Now when I”m back at Southern I have two companions to go with me to Sunday Mass-Jeanne and Hilma. That makes it more pleasant.”

3. ANSWERING QUESTIONS

Answering questions about the faith may be the beginning of a chain which ends in conversion. Such was the experience of Robert M. Panarites, a young sailor stationed at Ellyson Field, Pensacola, Fla.

“I had been,” said Robert, “a Methodist, Presbyterian, Nazarene, Pentecostal and a Witness of Jehovah. But none of these sects satisfied me.None made me feel that it was really Christ’s Church and was speaking with His authority to me. Even the ministers of the same sect, I found, held different views and doctrines.

“In these various denominations I had heard much about the Catholic Church, and it was always unfavourable. I”m sorry to say I swallowed much of it, so that if anyone had told me I would one day be an ardent Catholic I”d have thought him crazy.

“A change began when I met Chester Fruge in boot camp at San Diego. We became close friends and I soon discovered that Chester was a devout French Catholic. No matter how tired he was, he got up on Sunday and went off to Mass. I noticed, too, that he usually went without eating breakfast.

“When I asked him about it, he said that he went to Holy Communion and that this required him to fast. I plied him with dozens of questions. He took them all in stride and set me right on each one. Even when some of the questions were rather offensive, Chester didn’t bristle and “blow his top.” He knew that I had been fed a lot of “tripe,” so he let me get it all out of my system.

Then he gave me the “lowdown” on each item with great calmness and patience.

“I could see how much he got out of his religion. By the time he came back from Mass he would have lost some of his loneliness, and he said he felt as though he had had a visit with the folks back home.

“He wasn’t a bit backward in telling me about Confession, Holy Communion and the Mass. He told me that if I knew the grace, help and strength which Catholics get out of their religion I wouldn’t be able to embrace it fast enough. So I told him that sometime I would take a complete course of instruction.

“After boot camp we got separated. But we had promised to keep in touch, and a couple of weeks later I heard from him. “What have you done about looking into the Catholic faith?” was underlined in his letter.

“That question “What have you done?” kept coming up in each succeeding letter. I had done nothing about it, but I didn’t want to lie. So finally I grabbed a telephone book and looked up the name of a Catholic Church. I found one- St. Vincent Ferrer-in Vallejo, Calif., where I was then stationed.

“How does one,” I asked the priest who answered, “go about looking into the Catholic Church?” The priest chuckled and arranged for my instruction. I was baptized on 29 September, 1948.

“And I began to share my new-found joy with others. First was my sister, Christina. I told her how much the Faith would mean to her. She took instructions and was baptized on Thanksgiving Day 1950 at the Church of SS. Peter and Paul in Los Angeles. Next was my father, who was baptized at St Joseph’s Church in Grand Junction, Colo., in August, 1951.

“Others I have helped into the fold are Charles F. Moore, a buddy of mine in the navy, and two good friends, Mr. and Mrs. Felix Chism. The Chisms were baptized at Vincent Ferrer’s by Father William Moore, the zealous priest who also instructed and baptized me. I told these people that the Catholic religion would fill their hearts with the love of God and their fellow men and brighten their whole lives. I answered their questions and then arranged with a priest for their systematic instruction.

“And, under God, I owe it all to Chester Fruge. It was his willingness to answer questions and his repeated, “What have you done about it?” that finally got me started. I can’t thank him enough.”

4. DOING ACTS OF KINDNESS

People aren’t mere logic -machines. They have hearts, and those hearts are reached by love. Kindness is love’s lan- guage, and everyone can understand that tongue. If one wins a person’s friendship and love, he has taken the first step towards winning him for Christ.

A year after graduating from high school in Dorchester, Mass., Dorothea Dickenson became acquainted with a fine young man, Carl Cottuli, a non-Catholic. As their acquaintance ripened into friendship, she became increasingly eager to share her beautiful faith with her friend.

She told Carl what joy she got from the practice of her Catholic Faith. “It keeps me close to God,” she said, “and gives meaning and purpose to life. The sacraments of Confession and Holy Communion keep me in the friendship of Christ and give me the joy of a good conscience.”

“Well, if it means so much to you, Dot,” said Carl, “I guess I ought to look into it and see if it might not mean something to me.”

“There will be no pressure put on you to embrace our religion,” she came back. “Faith requires the assent of the will, and that can’t be forced. But prayer will help a lot, and I”11 be praying with you.”

“Fair enough,” said Carl, “But I”d like to have you come along. I”d feel a little strange going by myself.”

Accordingly, Dot brought Carl to Father Cummings at St. Mark’s, who explained the doctrines and practices of the Catholic religion to the young enquirer. Dot helped Carl with his prayers and supplemented Father Cummings’s exposition with additional bits of information. Every priest-instructor would welcome such an ally as Dot.

What started as a mixed courtship ended as a Catholic marriage with a Nuptial Mass and God’s special benediction upon the young couple.

Eventually Carl’s parents also found their hearts opening to Dot’s kindness. Instead of “cold-shouldering her in-laws,” as people so often do, Dot treated them as if they were her own parents: she visited them, cared for them in their sickness, surprised them with little presents, arranged for their instruction, and finally took them into her own home to look after them more effectively. Is it any wonder that the mother-in-law took the name of Dorothea in Confirmation? She wanted the name of a saint, and she found one, she felt, not only in Dorothea’s patron but in Dorothea herself.

5. LENDING CATHOLIC LITERATURE

When printed words present the truths of the Catholic faith, they become the channels of God’s grace. When Catholic literature comes into a home, a missionary of great power and influence enters.

This is shown by the following case history. After Mrs. James Bowes, of Mosinee, Wis., a widow in her 80”s, read Our Sunday Visitor from cover to cover, she brought it each week to her Luther-an next-door neighbours, the Rau family.

Frederic, the youngest among the six children, read every issue. He became interested in the Church and learned to say the Rosary. He went to his own church on one Sunday when the temperature was below zero and the attendance was poor.

The minister looked down towards the Catholic church and, seeing cars lined up for blocks around it just as on other Sundays, said, “When the Day of Judgement comes, that’s the Church that will stand the test.”

This deepened Fred’s interest. With two Catholic friends he went to the Sta tions of the Cross and other evening devotions. Finally he wrote to the Confraternity Home Study Service and received instructions by mail.

“I was convinced that the Catholic Church was the true Church of Christ and was now determined to take instruc- tions from apriest. Father Doyle of Wausau became my teacher. “Just before my instructions were completed, however, Father Doyle was killed in an auto accident. So I started all over again with Father Hawck, who baptized me and later offered my wedding Mass.

“I then served in the army for five years. One day at Fort Russell a fellow officer, Lt. Tillisch, told me he was going to marry a Catholic girl. He was scheduled to take some instructions from Father Henry Zaranthon in Marfa, Tex., and he wanted me to accompany him.

“Sure,” I replied, “I”ve had only two complete courses already, so I guess a third one won’t do me any harm.”

“Well,” he said, “I”m glad you’re willing to come because I had cold feet about going there alone. I never had any contact with priests.”

“Like most non-Catholics, Lt. Tillisch had many misconceptions but found them all removed during the course of instructions. He was received into the Church.

“As for me, I have a Catholic wife and four children. Give the credit, under God, to that nice little old lady who started it all by bringing Our Sunday Visitor to my home each week.”

6. BEARING WITNESS FOR THE FAITH

The prospective convert-maker should not wait for persons to ask him questions. He should kindle their interest by telling them of the peace-and happiness of his faith and do so with humility, sincerity, good will and kindness. He should show that it is love which prompts him to share the source of his happiness.

The fruitfulness of this technique shows in the following story. Rosemary Amberg, a young housewife in Milwaukee, was busy with her housework one morning when she heard the doorbell.

“I”m Ray Haas,” said the strapping young man at the door, “and I”m selling vacuum-cleaners. I think we have the best on the market. Will you give me a few minutes to demonstrate it?”

“Sure,” replied Rosemary. “I”11 be glad to see how it works.”

The salesman ran the vacuum over her rugs. Rosemary was impressed. “That looks like the real article,” she commented. “When my husband comes home this evening, I”11 tell him about it and perhaps we’ll buy one.”

Then, after a pause, she added, “Now, Mr. Haas, I”ve something to sell you.”

“What, you a saleswoman!” he remarked, as his eyes widened in surprise. “What have you got to sell?”

“The most precious treasure in the world-my holy Catholic Faith. It’s the source of my greatest comfort and hap- piness. When I go to Confession on Saturday evening, I leave with a conscience as peaceful as that of the angels. On the following morning, when I receive Our Lord in Holy Communion, I have great joy in my heart. All the doctors, psychiatrists and psychoanalysts in the world can’t give a person such peace of mind and happiness.”

When she finished the salesman remarked: “I”ve never heard a person speak so glowingly about a religion. If I were to bring my wife over some evening, would you give a repeat performance?”

“Gladly,” replied Rosemary. “Bring her over tomorrow.”

After Rosemary had repeated her story, her husband, John, a convert, added his corroboration. Mrs. Haas was no less impressed than her husband.

“Why, Ray,” she exclaimed, “this is just the thing for our friends the Karraghers. They’re looking around for some- thing to put meaning and purpose into life-and this will do just that.”

Later that week Ray and Beatrice Haas brought John and Barbara Karragher to the Amberg home, and Rosemary and John repeated their stirring words. Then they took the Karraghers and the Haases to the Gesu Parish Enquiry Class. After attending the class for three months, the Karraghers and Haases were received into the Church with the Ambergs kneeling beside them.

Rosemary Amberg’s little sales talk started the Karraghèrs and the Haases on the road to the Church. Those cou- ples, eager to share their new-found treasure, brought others to instructions, and that process has continued. In a convert class three years later were the 15th, 16th and 17th persons whose conversions are traceable to the spiritual chainreaction Rosemary started.

7. BRINGING PERSONS TO A PRIEST

Once an interested person is brought to a priest, the battle is more than half won. Unless that contact is made, however, the work in kindling the interest is not likely to bear fruit. At least the odds are against it. Miss Bessie 0. Robinson, of Toronto, Canada, tells a story which illustrates this. “I was brought up in the Anglican faith,” she said, “and attended many meetings of Buchman’s Oxford Group. My father became interested in astrology and drifted away from the Anglican Church.

“I was out of the Church for about 30 years. Then I began to realize how purposeless is a life without God. So I started going to church again.

“I appreciated,” she continued, “the friendliness of the people and of the parson and their friendly greetings. But I could not feel that this was the Church founded by Christ and in possession of all His truths. So I started going alone to the Catholic Church. I was impressed with the seriousness with which the people prayed, with their reverence for the Eucharistic King upon their altars, and with the beautiful liturgy

“I am in the interior-decorating business and I call upon my customers in their homes. Three of them are devout Catholics and they were also glad to answer my questions and tell me about their faith. However, I hesitated to take the step that would cut me off from many old friends, even though I was becoming increasingly aware that the Catholic Church alone went back to Christ.

“I don’t know how long I would have continued drifting in that state of indecision had not one of my customers, Helen Mitchell, phoned me. “Have you contacted any priest about that matter?” she asked. “No,” I replied. “Then I”11 phone Father Forestell at St. Basil’s and make an appointment for you,” Mrs. Mitchell said. “There’s no point in waiting any longer.”

“That was just the little spur I needed, and that most people in a similar state need badly. Father D. L. Forestell, a Basilian, was kind and understanding. He gave me instructions and on 14 Nov. 1946 received me into the fold of Christ. On the following Sunday I received my First Holy Communion.

CONCLUSION

Since faith is a gift of God, prayer is of supreme importance. It is not listed as a separate technique, however, but is an integral part of every technique.

These then are the seven basic methods of winning converts: 1. setting a good example; 2. bringing a person to services; 3. answering questions; 4. doing acts of kindness; 5. lending Catholic literature; 6. bearing witness for the faith; and 7. bringing persons to a priest.

Rarely will one technique be used in isolation. Generally the apostolic Catholic will use more, sometimes even all seven.

Using these techniques will give him a chance to give back to God a proportionate expression of gratitude for his own priceless gift-”faith for faith, divine gift for divine gift.”

Pope Pius XII pointed out that the mark of a good Catholic is his missionary zeal and eagerness to share his faith. “The missionary spirit,” he declared, “is not a virtue of supererogation expected of a chosen few. This spirit and the Catholic spirit are one and the same thing. One is not genuinely interested in and devoted to the Church unless one is interested in and devoted to its universality; that is, to its taking root and flourishing everywhere on earth.”

To put into practice these seven tested methods it will be well to make the following pledge:

“My Jesus, I believe in Thee and I love Thee. Because I do, I will strive to the best of my ability to reclaim inactive members and to share the precious treasure of my holy Catholic Faith with others. This I shall do by my fervent prayers, by the example of an upright and holy life, by explaining my Faith, by answering questions about it, by sharing Catholic literature, by bringing non-Catholics to Mass and other ceremonies, and especially to my priest for systematic instruction. In this way, dear Jesus, I shall strive to win at least one convert and reclaim one inactive Catholic each year of my life.”

Seal your pledge by kissing the crucifix-the one on your rosary will do. ********

Seventh Day Adventists

BY REV. DR. L. RUMBLE. M.S.C

INDEX

RECENTLY, handbills were widely distributed in Sydney, and much space booked up in the daily papers advertising a series of lectures to be given throughout Australia by one Clifford A. Reeves, of London. [1950] The public was invited to “Hear About the WorldWide Search for a Missing Bible Text.” The leaflets built up an atmosphere of mystery and thrill by a series of breathtaking declarations. “The Greatest Religious Predicament of All Time. Thousands Baffled. Ministers Perplexed. Your Interest Keeps on Increasing Right up to the Conclusion Which Leaves You Wondering in Astonishment.” Under whose auspices the lectures were being given was in no way indicated, save by the label, “Signs. Print. .” Few would identify that with the Seventh Day Adventists and guess that Clifford A. Reeves wanted to tell them that he could not find a text in the Bible to prove that Christians should observe Sunday instead of the Jewish Sabbath!

Seventh Day Adventists, in their dealings with the public, would appear to have adopted the policy of concealing their identity as long as possible. Hosts of people patronize Sanitarium Health Foods, or dine at the Sanitarium Restaurants, without realizing that they are customers of the Seventh Day Adventists-unless, as did a friend of mine, one were occasionally to find a tract under the salt-cellar containing the startling information that the Pope is the “Beast” of Revelation!

Travellers go from door to door selling a twovolume book called “The Desire of Ages.” [Now often promoted in a one volume edition.] This book purports to have been written by Mrs. E. G. White, and to have been printed by the “Signs Publishing Company.” To induce Catholics to buy it, despite its many erroneous interpretations of Scripture, agents tell them that it is a beautifully illustrated life of Christ, quote references (in at least one case obtained by misrepresentation, as the writer later alleged) in praise of it, and issue receipts for payments in the name of “Local Distributors of Desire of Ages.” There is not the slightest hint that the books are being sold on behalf of the Seventh Day Adventists, and all enquiries are met by evasion. The salesmen may say that they represent “Interdenominational Missions,” or fall back on some other subterfuge. One thing they will not say, and that is that they are Seventh Day Adventists.

ORIGIN OF ADVENTISM

In the year 1740, George Whifefield, a Methodist preacher who had been John Wesley’s companion in England, went to America and fanned the flames of a revivalist movement which swept through the ranks of the colonists there, with the result in many cases of what can be described only as religious frenzy. Wandering exhorters kept people in a state of uninterrupted excitation. An epidemic of Bible reading spread on all sides; and the Apocalypse, or Book of Revelation (the last book in the Bible), which has ever been the happy hunting-ground of religious cranks, proved most attractive to fanatics.

The Book of Revelation is of course as much the inspired Word of God as any other part of the Bible; but owing to its mystical and symbolical character, it is one of the most difficult to understand. St. John, writing in his own perilous age of general persecution by pagan emperors, wished to strengthen Christians by his prediction of the ultimate victory of good over evil. And he has left us the legacy of his inspired assurance that Christ will indeed come to judge mankind, overthrowing Satan and redeeming the good from this worldly-arena of strife and struggle and sacrifice.

Concentrating on an unwarranted literal interpretation of apocalyptic passages, many made a central feature of their religion an expectation of the imminent return of Christ to reign for a thousand years on earth, with His headquarters at Jerusalem. They taught that, after this Millennium, the wicked, including Satan and all evil spirits, will be annihilated, whilst Christ and the Saints will ascend to eternal bliss in Heaven.

Those who held to these general ideas of the imminent second advent of Christ, though with many variations as to detail, became known as “Adventists.”

WILLIAM MILLER

Amongst these new explorers of the Apocalypse was a man named William Miller. William Miller was born on February 15, 1782, at Pittsfield, Massachusetts, U.S.A. Four years after his birth, the family moved to Low Hampton, N.Y., where William grew up a farmer, and a quite irreligious one at that.

When thirty-four years of age, however, William Miller was converted at a revivalist meeting and became a Baptist. An ardent study of the Bible-for which he was in no way fitted-qualified him as a Baptist preacher, and more and more he devoted himself to expositions of biblical prophecy. Combining the prophecies of the Book of Daniel with those of the Apocalypse, he concluded that the Papacy was Antichrist. Reading in Daniel (8: 14), “And he said unto me, “Unto two thousand and three hundred days; then shall the sanctuary be cleansed”,” he decided that the “cleansing of the sanctuary” referred to the second advent. of Christ, and that this personal return of Christ to purge the world would take place on March 21, 1843.

In 1818, therefore, he began to preach that, in about 25 years from then, the present state of the world would come to an end, and the reign of Christ would be established. For ten years he lectured up and down the country, carrying on a vigorous propaganda by means of a paper he had founded and called “The Signs of the Times,” winning thousands over to his belief that the world would end in 1843. Before long he had broken with the Baptists altogether, and he and his followers became known as the “Millerites.”

As March 21, 1843, drew near, terrific excitement prevailed amongst them; but, alas, the day came and went, and nothing happened. Miller went back to his calculations, checked them over, and discovered that he had mistaken the year. March 21, 1844, was the correct date. When that, too, failed, he moved the date forward to October 22, 1844. Failure this time destroyed his confidence in his own predictions, and he declared that the second advent would certainly take place soon, but that he could not say when.

FIRST ADVENTIST CHURCH

On April 29, 1845, the Millerites held a Conference at Albany. N.Y., to define their views and plan for the future. They decided upon a congregational basis of organization, and drew up a statement of faith which included belief in the “Bible only”, in the imminent second coming of Christ, in the overthrow of the Papacy, and in the early establishment of the Millennial Kingdom of Christ on earth.

No date was set for the second advent; but it is certain that if they had been told that the world would still be going on as usual in 1950, over a hundred years later, they would have been completely incredulous and scornful. It is to be noted, also, thatthe Millerites had no idea that there was anything wrong with “the Christian observance of Sunday. In fact, Adventists who had taken up the observance of Saturday instead of Sunday, were excluded by the. Albany Conference. Poor William Miller, who died on December 20, 1849, had no idea that he had all along-according to modern Seventh Day Adventists-been subject to a Satanic deception by his Sunday observance!

In 1858 another Conference was held at Boston where the name “American Millennial Association” was adopted, to be altered a few years later to “The Evangelical Adventist Association.” But through all these changes the number of adherents was steadily diminishing. The failure of William Miller’s prophecy that the second advent of Christ would occur on October 22, 1844, seemed too great an obstacle for the Adventist movement ever to overcome.

New life. however. came with the remarkable discovery by one Hiram Edson, of Port Gibson. He declared that William Miller’s calculations were correct after all. But Miller had misunderstood the nature of Christ’s second coming. Hiram Edson got a “revelation” that the “sanctuary to be cleansed,” according to Daniel 8: 14, “is in Heaven, not on earth.” He quoted Hebrews (8: 1–2), “We have a High Priest . . . in the heavens; a minister of the sanctuary.” On October 22, 1844, he declared, Christ entered the heavenly sanctuary to cleanse it! It is true that Christ entered Heaven at the ascension; but-said Hiram-He did not then enter the Inner Sanctuary. That event took place in 1844, when Christ began investigating the records of all mankind, already dead or still living. In 1884 Mrs. Ellen G. White-of whom we shall see more later-wrote in explanation of this, “The judgement is now passing in the sanctuary above. Forty years has this work been in progress. Soon-none knows how soon-it will pass to the cases of the living” (SP., Vol. 4, p. 315). When this auditing of the books is finished “Christ will return to earth to execute judgement accordingly.”

Faithful Adventists grasped eagerly at this assurance that William Miller was not mistaken about the date of the second advent, and easily overlooked the unscriptural and absurd details of Hiram Edson’s explanation. So the Adventist movement survived, though not as a Unified body; for it went the way of all such man-made sects. dissolving into many broken fragments.

ADVENTIST DIVISIONS

The extent of the disagreements and dissensions amongst the Adventists is evident from the mere list of different denominations to which they gaverise. Thus we find in America the “Life and Advent Union”; the “Seventh Day Adventists”; the “Advent Christian Church”; the “Church of God (Seventh Day) “; the “Churches of God in Jesus Christ”; the “Church of God (Oregon, Illinois)”; the “Church of God, Adventist”; the “Church of the Blessed Hope”; the “Brethren of the Abrahamic Faith”; the “Restitutionists”; the “Age-tocome Adventists”; and the “Primitive Advent Christian Church.”

Each of these Churches either disagreed with some already accepted teaching, or tried to introduce new doctrines of its own. Thus John T. Walsh broke away from the Millerites in 1848 to form the “Life and Advent Union,” because he held that there is to be no resurrection of the wicked; and that this earth, not heaven, is to be the eternal abode of the righteous.

Joseph Bates, James White and Mrs. White, relying on visions Mrs. White claimed to have received, insisted not only on the imminent second coming of Christ, but also on the observance of Saturday instead of Sunday; and in 1860 they established the Seventh Day Adventists.

In 1861 Jonathan Cummins departed from the Millerites and founded the “Advent Christian Church,” because he disbelieved in the theory of the “heavenly sanctuary,” which had been concocted to safeguard William Miller’s prediction of the second advent of Christ on October 22, 1844.

In 1865, Elder Gilbert Cranmer abandoned the “Seventh Day Adventists” to found the “Church of God, Adventist,” as a protest against Mrs. White’s claim to divine inspiration.

Most of the breakaway sects, however, never attained to significant proportions. The most progressive and active of them all today, is that of the “Seventh Day Adventists,” the denomination which has succeeded in establishing itself here in our own midst in Australia. And with that branch of the Adventists, this booklet is mainly concerned.

MRS. ELLEN G. WHITE

In 1842 a Miss Ellen G. Harmon was converted at an Adventist revivalist meeting conducted by the Millerites, and at once began to have what she claimed to be divinelyinspired dreams. In 1844, when Miller’s predictions failed to eventuate, she had a vision of Adventists going straight to Heaven; and all rejoiced, many accepting her as a prophetess.

Miss Harmon herself admitted that she had suffered severe head-injuries as a young girl, and since then had been given to fainting and epileptic fits. It was invariably after having swooned that she claimed to have received during a trance new and heavenly communications.

With other Adventists she had eagerly accepted Hiram Edson’s interpretation of the “cleansing of the sanctuary,” but was soon adding further doctrines of her own. In 1846 she married Elder James White, gaining both prestige in the movement and an ardent advocate of her teachings.

Before very long she claimed to have had a vision in which Christ in Heaven showed her the Tables of Stone, with the commandment, “Remember that you keep holy the sabbath day,” surrounded by a halo of light. At the same time a nearby angel assured her that Saturday and not Sunday is the day to be observed by Christians.

SEVENTH DAY ADVENTISTS

It was this last-mentioned vision which led to a break with the followers of William Miller, whose adventism had never for a moment questioned Sunday observance; and in 1860, at Battle Creek, Michigan, under the leadership of Joseph Bates, Elder James White and Mrs. Ellen G. White, the “Seventh Day Adventist” denomination was formed.

For more than fifty years, until her death in 1915, Mrs. White was the accepted prophetess of the new Church: Although she was a woman of little education, her visions and writings have become fundamental with Seventh Day Adventists. They are placed on the same level as Sacred Scripture, and are quoted as infallible utterances.

Her “Testimonies for the Church” are regarded as the only authentic interpretation of the Bible. “It is God,” she says, “and not an erring mortal, who has spoken.” She devoted 38 pages of her “Testimony No. 33” to vindicating her divine inspiration-a claim to infallibility far in excess of any ever made by the Pope!

In his book, “Seventh Day Adventism Renounced,” D. M. Canright says, “Mrs. White claims that the very words in which her visions are recorded are divinely inspired. I know they are not, for she often changes what she has written, scratching out a whole page at times. She reads her Manuscripts to her husband, while he suggests changes which she makes. As she is ignorant of grammar, she has employed an accomplished writer to correct the manuscript, improve its style, and polish it up generally. She also copies largely from other writings.”

Another exSeventh Day Adventist, Warren Latham, of Spokane, Washington, U.S.A., writes, “The denomination regards her writings as the voice of God, and in their public teaching they will not admit that she made any mistakes in her published writings. They place her writings on an equality with the Bible, although they emphatically deny this statement. Like a man trying to catch a horse in an open field, with feed in one hand and a halter behind his back in the other, so are these Adventist evangelists who preach from an open Bible, but keep the “Testimonies” concealed. After the converts are made, and the halter on, the “Testimonies” always take precedence above the Scriptures, because they are used to interpret the Bible.” And Warren Latham adds, ““What does Sister White say?” is a stock term with all good Adventists.”

The credulity of Adventists where Mrs. White is concerned is proof against all reasoning and evidence to the contrary. Dr. William Russell, a physician at the Seventh Day Adventist Sanitarium, Battle Creek, Michigan, wrote in 1869 that her visions were the result of a diseased brain. Dr. Fairfield said in 1887 that they were due to hysterical trances. But to this day Mrs. White is accepted as an infallible prophetess by Seventh Day Adventists.

ADVENTIST TEACHINGS

The Seventh Day Adventists, originated by Protestants in a Protestant environment, and drawing its recruits mainly from Baptists, Methodists and Congregationalists, began with the usual profession of belief in the “Bible only”, and in salvation by faith alone. But under the guidance of William Miller, and later of Mrs. White, they soon developed distinctive doctrines, which really meant the negation of both those fundamental Protestant tenets. Mrs. White’s writings became a substitute for the Bible, whilst she herself expressly rejected salvation by faith alone. “Those who accept the Saviour,” she wrote, “however sincere their conversion, should never be taught to say or feel that they are saved. This is misleading” (“Christ’s Object Lessons,” p. 155).

Seventh Day Adventists claim to believe in the Divinity of Christ, though their other doctrines implicitly deny it over and over again. They insist, without. any real warrant at all from the Bible, that baptism must be by immersion. They say also that the Levitical code for foods (Lev. 11) must be observed. Strictly speaking, all Seventh Day Adventists are expected to be vegetarians, and on no account to take alcoholic drink or indulge in the use of tobacco. Devotion to “Health Foods” is part of their religion, and a condition for their translation to the Millennial Kingdom.

Most important of all, the seventh day, Saturday, is to be observed, and not Sunday. All Churches except that of the seventh Day Adventists have been deceived by Satan through the agency of the Papacy into the observance of Sunday. All of them constitute “Babylon,” and are rejected by God. But, this is particularly true of the Catholic Church, presided over by “Antichrist” or the “Beast” in the person of the Pope.

Needless to say, the Seventh Day Adventists claim that they alone correctly understand the prophecies, to which they give most attention and according to which they say they are called by God to give a last warning to the world.

JUDGEMENT NOW

A basic doctrine of the Adventists is that the second coming of Christ is imminent. Though William Miller was wrong in his expectations of what would happen on October 22, 1844, he rightly calculated that the prophecy of Daniel referred to that date.

What did happen, say the Adventists, was that Christ then entered into the heavenly sanctuary to begin the “Investigative Judgement” of all mankind. As soon as He has made Himself aware of all the iniquities of each of the living. and the dead-and it may be at any moment now, for He has already been engaged in the task for over a hundred years-He will come again to this world in all His majesty and glory, the first. resurrection will take place, and the Millennium, or a special period of a thousand years will begin. It must be noted here that, according to the Seventh Day Adventists, man’s soul is not naturally immortal. When a man dies, all consciousness ceases. But the souls of men continue to exist in a kind of coma, waiting for the resurrection. At the first resurrection only Christ’s chosen ones will be raised from the dead to have immortality conferred upon them. These will then go to Heaven with Christ, reigning with Him there and spending the thousand years of the Millennium going through the records and judging the wicked.

During these thousand years the world will be in great distress, and Satan will be made to bear the sins of the saved as a kind of scapegoat. After this Millennium, all others will be raised from the dead; the Final Judgement will take place, Satan and all evil spirits and wicked human beings will be annihilated (there’s no hell), the earth will be reconditioned, and the Holy City will descend from Heaven. The world will then be the eternal home of the saved, under the rule of Christ and of 144,000 Seventh Day Adventists.

Such, in brief outline, is the Seventh Day Adventist system. With its every item it will be impossible to deal in this booklet. But let us take at least some of its outstanding features.

On the sanctuary question we need not delay. That there is any sanctuary in Heaven that needs to be cleansed, that Christ is there engaged in investigating the records to discover who is worthy of love and who of hatred, and that He entered upon this task in 1844-all this is not only fiction without a trace of Scriptural support, but also such utter nonsense that no intelligent person could even be expected to accept it. It is obviously an invention to rescue William Miller’s prediction of the second coming of Christ in 1844 from the consequences of its failure.

IMMORTALITY OF MAN”S SOUL

When we turn to the nature of the human soul, Mrs. White tells us that the souls of the dead are quite unconscious, apparently existing in a state of coma or trance. The doctrine of “consciousness in death”-she declares-rests upon “the fundamental error of natural immortality, a doctrine opposed to the teaching of the Scriptures.”

But that the human soul is by nature immortal happens to be the teaching of the very Scriptures by which she claims to be guided! When Christ said, “Fear you all not them that kill the body, and are not able to kill the soul” (Matt. 10: 28), He taught both the difference between the material body and the spiritual soul, and also the immunity of the latter from the processes of death. And that the souls of the departed are conscious is certainly stressed in Christ’s parable of the rich man who died and who, after death, was granted a vision of Lazarus in Heaven and made the agonizing appeal, “Father Abraham, have mercy on me!” (Luke, 16: 24.) Again, when Christ on Calvary said to the repentant thief, “This day you shall be with me in Paradise” (Luke 23: 43), the promise was one of conscious happiness. So, too, when St. Paul wrote to the Philippians of his desire to be dissolved and “to be with Christ, a thing by far the better” (Phil., 1: 23), his words would be meaningless if death meant the lapsing of his soul into complete unconsciousness!

The Adventist doctrine that Satan and all evil spirits and the souls of the wicked will be annihilated at the Last Judgement is equally opposed to the clear teaching of Holy Scripture. Christ warned men to take the most drastic precautions and be prepared to make any sacrifices in this life rather than “go into hell, into unquenchable fire, where their worm dies not, and the fire is not extinguished” (Mark, 10: 42–43). And the end of the drama of the wicked will be, “these shall go into everlasting punishment; but the just into life everlasting.” (Matt. 25: 46.) The one fate is just as interminable as the other!

THE MILLENNIUM

The Millennial views of the Seventh Day Adventists are based on a mistakenly-literal interpretation of the twentieth chapter of the book of the Apocalypse. There St. John speaks of a reign of Christ for “a thousand years.”

In the early Church there were some who interpreted St: John’s words to mean that the power of pagan Rome would be overthrown, to be followed by a “Millennium,” or rule of the Saints with Christ upon earth for a thousand years, during which time the activities of Satan would be greatly restricted. Then Satan would be permitted for a brief time to organize the wicked for a final attack upon the Saints, God Himself stepping in to end the conflict by the Last Judgement.

But this literal interpretation is quite opposed to the method the rest of the Book demands. St. John’s language throughout is not literal, but allegorical. The number “1,000” must be regarded symbolically, and not numerically, as signifying an indefinitely long period. St. Augustine, in Book20, of his “City of God,” written in the Fourth Century, refuted the early literalists, and gave the true explanation of the Millennium. He declared that the advent of Christ into this world in the first place brought with it a grace more than sufficient to cripple and defeat the work of Satan, and that the Millennium is the whole interval from that time till the Last Judgement. To teach a literal Millennium is to go against the voice of the Church of all the ages, and to support from one apocalyptic passage what is opposed to the general teaching of the Bible as a whole. For in Sacred Scripture the second advent of Christ is clearly predicted as coinciding- with the Last Judgement, the Church suffering till the end of time and enjoying no pleasant interval of freedom from trials for any period of a thousand years.

The reign of the Saints with Christ represents the entire course of the Church’s existence as the Kingdom of God on earth. That is the only Millennial reign St. John had in mind. In spite of any appearances to the contrary, God’s plans are being fulfilled, and the will of Christ is really being carried out, so that those who have made their wills one with His, and love Him and live for Him, reign upon the earth as He does.

St. Augustine’s explanation gave the death-blow to Millennarian speculations, and the subject was practically ignored until revived by the Anabaptists in Germany during the Protestant reformation; and it has continued as a delusion amongst many of the smaller Protestant sects, including the Seventh Day Adventists.

But a far greater delusion, and one which the Seventh Day Adventists themselves regard as a matter of supreme importance, is the peculiar idea that the Jewish Law of Sabbath observance is still binding upon Christians.

SABBATH OBSERVANCE

We have seen earlier that the original Adventists, as founded by William Miller, had no idea that the observance of Sunday was in any way sinful. But some of his followers had been associated with the Seventh Day Baptists, who had derived the custom of observing Saturday from the Anabaptists in Germany. In 1844 a group of Adventists, therefore, adopted the Seventh day Baptist teaching on the subject; and as we have seen; were excluded from the newly-formed Adventist Church, which resulted from the Conference at Albany, N.Y., in 1845.

The dissident group of Adventists, in their advocacy of Saturday, quoted the account of creation in Genesis, the appointment of the Sabbath by God in honour of His creative work, the commandment, “Remember that you keep holy the Sabbath day,” and the message of the third angel, “Here is the patience of the saints: here are they that keep the commandments of God and the faith of Jesus.” (Rev, 14: 12.) They declared that the expression, “the commandments of God,” included that of the Jewish Sabbath every bit as much as any of the others.

Mrs. Ellen G. White affiliated herself with this group, and conveniently had her vision, in which she claimed to have had revealed to her that observance of the Jewish Sabbath is the crucial thing that makes a person a Christian, and that all observers of Sunday are apostates, deceived by Antichrist.

She declared Saturday observance to be essential to salvation. The Mosaic Law binds for all time. “God is eternally the same,” she argued. Does He not say, in Psalm 89: 34, (88: 34) “My covenant I will not break, nor alter the thing that has gone out of My lips”? She did not advert to the fact that, although God is eternally the same, things are not necessarily willed by Him to be eternally the same! He may eternally will that people who are faithful will inherit blessings, but forfeit them if they fail in their fidelity. And she quite overlooked the prediction, “Behold the days shall come, said the Lord, and I will make a new covenant with the house of Israel, and with the house of Judah; not according to the covenant which I made with their fathers in the day that I took them by the hand to bring them out of the land of Egypt; the covenant which they made void” (Jer. 31: 31–32).

NEW TESTAMENT TEACHING

Appealing to the New Testament, Mrs. White denied that any record can be found there indicating a distinct command of God that Sunday should be substituted for Saturday (in which she happened to be right), and declared that Antichrist, operating through the Papacy, and with the assistance of the Roman Emperor, Constantine, in 321 A.D., was responsible for the change (in which she was as wrong as she could possibly be).

Let us admit at once that if the New Testament insists anywhere that Christians are obliged to observe Saturday, then the Catholic Church is undoubtedly in error; though that would not make the Seventh Day Adventists right as a Church, with all their other omissions and violations of New Testament teachings, both in doctrine and practice.

But the New Testament nowhere declares that followers of Christ are obliged to observe the Jewish Sabbath. In fact, it teaches the abrogation of the Jewish Dispensation in favour of the New Law established by Christ.

The Book of Exodus makes it very clear that the observance of the Sabbath was a special prescription for the Jews only, and that it was inseparably connected with the Old Covenant. But Christians live under the New Testament or New Covenant, which insists that those who have accepted the full and perfect revelation and grace of Christ are no longer bound by the laws and customs of the Jews. Thus St. Paul, speaking, of the higher ideals of the Christian religion as compared with the Law “graven with letters upon stones,” declares; “if that which is done away was glorious, much more that which remains is in glory” (II Cor. 3: 7–11).

Mrs. White has to agree that Our Lord abolished the ancient “Jewish Law,” but she says that this refers to the “ceremonial” or ritualistic elements of the “Law,” not to the moral law found in the Ten Commandments. But the fact is that, with the institution of His own Church by the Messiah, the whole of the Jewish dispensation lapsed, including all ten commandments viewed as part of that dispensation. If Christians are bound to observe the basic moral principles taught in the Ten Commandments, it is not because they are contained in the Decalogue, but because they are of their very nature part of the natural moral law-a natural law which is permanently binding in any case. But even granted Mrs. White’s distinction, her position is not improved, for Jewish Sabbath observance was patently “ceremonial” in character.

ATTITUDE OF CHRIST

“But,” urge Seventh Day Adventists, “Jesus Himself observed the Jewish Sabbath.” Of course He did: He purposely complied with all the requirements of the preparatory Old Law prior to completing and perfecting it by the fullness of His own new revelation and dispensation. But He Himself prepared the way for the abolition of the Jewish Sabbath.

He defended His disciples when the Jews accused them of not observing the Sabbath strictly in the traditional sense, adding, “For the son of man is Lord even of the Sabbath” (Matt. 12: 1–8). He rebuked a too severe interpretation of the Sabbath law. (Luke, 13: 10–16; 14: 1–5; John 5: 9–18; 7: 22.) He showed His authority to do as He pleased with the Sabbath (Mark 2: 27–28.)

Nowhere, moreover, did He reassert the obligation of observing the Jewish Sabbath. Never did He quote this Jewish Law. In enumerating the commandments to the rich young man who asked what must be done for salvation, He omitted all reference to it (Mark 10: 19).

THE EARLY CHURCH

The Apostles certainly understood the mind of Christ on the subject, and the account of the Council of Jerusalem in Acts 15 shows that they had no intention of imposing the obligation of the Jewish Sabbath on Gentile converts. It is true that Jewish converts, from sheer force of custom, continued to observe the Jewish day. They were free to do so. But they were not obliged to do so. And when some of them began to speak of obligation in this matter and showed signs of wishing to impose it on others, St. Paul at once denounced such Judaizing tendencies. Again and again he stressed the fact that Christians are not under the Jewish Law but under grace (Rom. 6: 14): he warned the Galatians that a return to the Jewish Law on their part would render his work among them in vain (Gal. 4: 11) ; and he told the Colossians to pay no attention to those who blamed them for not observing Jewish Sabbaths (Col. 2: 16). Yet Mrs. White comes forward with a revival of the first century Judaism St. Paul so strongly condemned! D. M. Canright, in his book “Seventh Day Adventism Renounced,” speaking of their Jewish legalism, says of the Seventh Day Adventists, “Their constant theme is law, law, law. They preach it ten times as much as they preach Christ.”

But if Christians are not obliged to observe the Jewish Sabbath, what day were they obliged to observe as a day of rest? The answer is-no particular day. It is true that, from the very beginning, they gave special honour to the first day of the week. Christ had risen from the dead, thus completing the work of redemption, on the first day of the week; He had chosen the first day of the week for His appearances to the Apostles; and fifty days after His resurrection He had sent the Holy Ghost upon them on the first day of the week. What wonder that the early Christians held that day in particular esteem! So we read, in Acts, 20: 7, “On the first day of the week, when we were assembled to break bread.” To the Corinthians, St. Paul wrote that collections were to be made amongst them when they met “on the first day of the week” (I Cor. 16: 2). And St. John, in the Apocalypse, referred to the first day of the week as “the Lord’s Day” (Rev. 1: 10).

But the first Christians did not regard the first day of the week as a substitute for the Jewish Sabbath. There was no question of transferring Jewish obligations from one day to another. The obligation of the Jewish Sabbath had lapsed, even as the Old Law generally had ceased to oblige. They did not regard it as necessary to abstain from secular pursuits on the first day of the week. They engaged in business as usual. But from motives of devotion they began that day by meeting for the celebration of the Eucharist which Christ had left to them as His last legacy and command on the eve of His crucifixion and death.

LAW FOR CHRISTIANS

That custom became the Christian tradition. As early as 107 A.D., St. Ignatius, Bishop of Antioch, could write, “If we still live according to the Jewish observances, we confess that we do not accept the grace of Christ. Those who once lived according to the Old Law have come to a new hope, no longer observing the Jewish Sabbath, but the Lord’s Day on which our Life rose from the dead.” St. Justin Martyr, who died in 167 A.D., wrote, “On Sunday we meet to celebrate the Lord’s Supper and read the Gospels and Sacred Scriptures, the first day on which God changed darkness, and made the world, and on which Christ rose from the dead.”

But no Christians at that time dreamed of relating the observance of the Lord’s Day to the Decalogue, nor of identifying it with the Jewish Sabbath.

In the year 321 A.D., the Roman Emperor Constantine decreed that the first day of the week, Sunday, was to be observed as a civic day of rest from ordinary work and business. That did not impose any obligations of religious observance upon Christians. But in 336 A.D., the Catholic Church, at the Council of Laodicea, made the ecclesiastical law obliging the faithful to attend Mass and to abstain from servile works on Sundays. And all Christians accepted that law in virtue of the divine authority Christ gave to His Church when He said, “Whatsoever you bind upon earth shall be bound also in Heaven; and whatsoever you loose upon earth shall be loosed alsoin Heaven” (Matt. 18: 18).

ADVENTIST POSITION

What does all this mean? It means that the Seventh Day Adventists are wrong in saying that the Jewish Sabbath still obliges, for there is clear authority in the Bible for its abrogation.

Seventh Day Adventists are right, however, in accusing other Protestants of inconsistency who speak of any obligation of Sunday observance whilst rejecting the authority of the Catholic Church. It is not that there is no authority in the Bible for Sunday observance. But there is no direct authority for it as an obligation. The only direct authority for the obligation of Sunday, is that of the Catholic Church; but that involves the authority of the Bible at least indirectly in so far as the Bible itself teaches clearly that the Catholic Church is directly authorized by Christ to legislate in His name.

Seventh Day Adventists, however, rather than accept the authority of the Catholic Church, prefer to accept that of Mrs. Ellen G. White.

Christ had said, “I will build my Church, and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it” (Matt. 16: 18). To His Church He had made the promise, “I will be with you all days even till the end of the world” (Matt., 28: 20).

Yet George Burnside, an Adventist evangelist, in his lecture, “Who claims to have changed the Sabbath?” says, “The Apostles were scarcely cold in their graves ere apostasy began to sweep into the Church.” According to Mrs. White, the gates of hell did prevail against the Church, Christ did not fulfil His promise of protection, and all Christendom fell into error. After over 1800 years, Mrs. Ellen G. White had to be called upon in America to rectify the work of Christ, and upon her the true Church has at last been built, that of the Seventh Day Adventists! Who can believe it?

HATRED OF ROME

From all that has been said, it can easily be guessed that prejudice against the Catholic Church and a consuming hatred of the Pope are part of the religion of the Seventh Day Adventists. Side by side with their efforts to restore the Sabbath observance of the ancient Jewish Law go fierce denunciations of the Papacy for having, as they say, changed the Sabbath from the seventh to the first day of the week.

All the colourful epithets used of Antichrist and of his pagan kingdom which Adventists can find in the Book of Revelation are applied to the Catholic Church. She is the “Scarlet Woman,” the “Harlot,” and “Babylon the Great.” To her they apply the words of St. John, “Upon her forehead was a name written: Mystery, Babylon the Great, the Mother of Harlots and abominations of the earth” (Rev. 17: 5). And to her members they address the appeal, “Come out of her, my people, that you all be not partakers of her sins, and that you all receive not of her plagues” (Rev. 18: 4).

This is not an exaggeration of the Adventist attitude towards the Catholic Church. In 1929 Alonzo L. Baker, associate editor of the “Signs of the Times” in California, published a book entitled “The Pope King Again,” and sub- titled “Is the Deadly Wound Healing?” In it he uses these gentle expressions: “The papal system is the very antithesis of Christianity, and the Pope is indeed the Antichrist” (p. 83). “The Pope of Rome opposeth and exalteth himself above all that is called God” (p. 87). “The Roman Catholic Mass is nothing more than idolatry of a wafer, and a means of obscuring the true place of Christ” (p. 96).”Rome attempts to destroy the very essence of Christianity” (p. 98). “The vital question at issue,” he writes, “is one of loyalty to Jesus Christ, or to the man on the Tiber who declares he holds the place of God on earth” (p. 109). And again, “In the Day of Judgement there will be two classes only on the earth-those who have worshipped the beast, and those who have gotten the victory over the beast. The first will go to eternal destruction with the beast; the others will receive eternal salvation at the hands of Jesus Christ” (p. 109). (Consistently “the Beast” is the Pope in this work.)

It seems incredible that there are people who can think and speak in such a way in these days. Yet these are not isolated utterances. Mr. George Burnside, an American Seventh Day Adventist evangelist, lecturing in New Zealand in 1949, said in an appeal to Protestants to cease observing Sunday and to become Seventh Day Adventists, “You can see it is more than a question of days; it is a matter of obedience to Christ or obedience to Antichrist. Christ says the Sabbath is His “Sign.” It is the Union Jack of Jesus Christ. Flags mean a great deal today. It is time you stepped out from underneath the Babylonian flag of apostasy, and stood for Christ under His bloodstained banner.”

Nowhere did Christ ever say that the Sabbath is His “Sign.” And to become a Seventh Day Adventist would not be obedience to Him but to Mrs. Ellen G. White! Understanding of Scripture, however, and knowledge of history, and the demands of reason seem utterly foreign to Seventh Day Adventists.

“THE PAPAL BEAST”

One of their most treasured “proofs” that the Pope is the “Beast” is drawn from the words of St. John: “Here is wisdom. Let him that. has understanding count the number of the beast; for it is the number of a man; and his number is Six Hundred Three Score and Six.” (Rev. 13: 18).

Overlooking the warning that wisdom and understanding are required, Seventh Day Adventists rush in where angels fear to tread. “The Pope,” they say, “has engraved on his Tiara his official title, “Vicarius Filii Dei,” Latin for “Vicar of the Son of God.” Now some of the letters of the Latin alphabet have numerical equivalents. Taking the title “Vicarius Filii Dei,” this is what we get:

V (5) I (1) C (100) A (0) R (0) I ( 1 ) U ( 5) S (0) = 112

F ( 0) I (1) L ( 50 ) I ( 1 ) I (1) D (500) E (0) I (1) = 554

112 + 554 = 666 = THE NUMBER OF THE BEAST = 666

Now that may be all very satisfying to Seventh Day Adventists. But not to anybody else. For St. John wrote in Greek, and. certainly had not the numerical equivalents of the Latin alphabet in mind. There is no justification whatever for the transition to Latin lettering. Also, there is no inscription at all on the Papal Tiara. Furthermore, the title “Vicarius Filii Dei” is not, never has been, and never will be a title, official or otherwise, of the Pope. That title was invented by some Protestant genius because it worked out in the way required for the sake of the argument he thought he could base upon it. But what is the use of an argument which starts off from a bit of fantastic guesswork which happens to be quite wrong? Not a reputable scholar in the world would dream of incorporating such rubbish in a commentary on Sacred Scripture.

Most of such scholars interpret the number of the beast, 666, as a cryptic reference to the pagan Emperor Nero. It certainly cannot refer to the Pope. For whatever be the true interpretation of this mystical number, it is the number of “a man,” and undoubtedly indicates, some one individual person. If it referred to a particular Pope, it could refer to none of the others. To which Pope will people refer it? To a past Pope? Then he is dead and gone; and we need not worry about him.

However, the number does not refer to any of the Popes at all. In his Commentary on the Book of Revelation in the Cambridge Bible Series, an Anglican scholar, the Rev. W. H. Simcox, M.A., says, “It is most unjust and unreasonable, in fact, hardly less than blasphemy, to treat the Papacy as the champion and representative of Antichrist. In fact., the identification of the Papacy with Antichrist admits of direct refutation. “He is Antichrist,” say St. John, “who denies the Father and the Son.” He defines the spirit of Antichrist as the “spirit that confesses not that Jesus Christ is come in the flesh.” Now, whatever the errors of the Papacy and of the Roman Church, it is certain that no Pope has ever denied the truth of the doctrines of the Trinity and of the Incarnation” (p. 57).

Those words of a Cambridge scholar who obviously had no leanings towards Rome; yet who rejects absolutely charges prompted by ignorance and prejudice, should suffice for any thinking person.

BEHIND THE TIMES

Seventh Day Adventists speak much of the “Signs of the Times”; but more than almost any other non-Catholic denomination they are behind the times.

It is wonderful, of course, what people can find in the Bible, if they decide beforehand what they want to find there. One doesn’t need training and scholarship for that. One needs only unlimited credulity. But this much is certain. All who have training and scholarship unanimously declare that what the Seventh Day Adventists claim to find in the Bible is not really there, whilst an immense amount of teaching that is there they ignore and contradict.

Their efforts to re-impose Jewish observances are but a reflection of the Judaizing tendencies among a few of the early Jewish converts to the Church which earned the reproach from St. Paul, “O senseless Galatians, who has bewitched you, that you should not obey the truth?” (Gal., 3: I). St. Paul would certainly rank the followers of Mrs. Ellen G. White amongst the “bewitched.” Their attitude towards the Papacy, with all their “Beast” nonsense, is evidence enough for that.

It has been no pleasure, in writing this booklet, to dwell upon the bitterly anti-Catholic position the Seventh Day Adventists have been led by their religion to adopt. Charity begets charity, whilst hatred engenders hatred. To read of their prejudice and animosity can only make it more difficult for Catholics to be patient with them, though all Catholics realize that it is still their duty to manifest nothing but charity towards the persons even of the professed enemies of their religion. Positive support of the business enterprises established by the Seventh Day Adventists, the profits of which are devoted to the further propagation of attacks upon the Catholic Church, is, however, another matter. That Seventh Day Adventists cannot reasonably expect of Catholics, even though they seek it.

But why do they feel impelled to continue their campaign against the Catholic Church, and their vilification of the Catholic religion? If they themselves wish to observe Saturday instead of Sunday, even though they are mistaken, they give others no cause for complaint. If they preach the love of God, ideals of Christian virtue, and goodwill and charity towards their neighbours, no one will object. But surely it is not too much to ask that they should cease to vilify the religion of others, spreading the poison of prejudice and fostering bigotry and anti-Catholic bitterness.

As a matter of fact, no sane and balanced person speaks of the Catholic Church today as do the Seventh Day Adventists. Prejudice and bigotry are dying. A wiser outlook is beginning to prevail. Thus, writing in the London “Times,” of November 10, 1949, the Anglican Bishop Cecil J. Wood, of Malvern, Worcestershire, said:

“The primacy of the Roman Church is readily acknowledged as a matter of history. First in the early centuries and then in these later days the Roman Church has maintained the “faith once delivered to the saints” without compromise with changing thought. . . . Also it has maintained standards of morality in face of attempts to lower them. Most Christians are sincerely thankful for this whether they are members of the Roman Catholic Communion or not. The disastrous effect of the lowering of moral standards and of the manifold private judgements has become clear: There is a widespread desire, and a new sincerity in the desire, that the way may be opened for renewal of communion between Rome and England.”

Those words indicate a new and better tendency. But if, as Bishop Wood declares, the Catholic Church has maintained through all the centuries the “faith once delivered to the saints,” the implication is. surely that the road to the full Christian truth is an actual return to that Catholic Church which the Protestant reformers should never have left in the first place. That suggestion, however-which non-Catholic readers should not dismiss too easily-leads beyond the scope of this booklet. . Its purpose has been to show that the full Christian truth is not to be found .in Seventh Day Adventism, and that one cannot be both a follower of Mrs. Ellen G. White and at the same time a genuine (100%) follower of Christ.

Nihil Obstat:

D. P. MURPHY,

Censor Deputatus.

Imprimatur:

@ D. MANNIX,

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis ********

Shall I Be A Priest?

REV. WILLIAM DOYLE, S. J

INDEX

CHAPTER I

“OUT OF THE MOUTH OF BABES.”

“BUT, mother, is Jesus really there behind that little golden door? Does He never go away? Does He ever get tired? Is He never hungry, or sleepy, and how did He get in there?”

Two big eyes, full of eager questioning, looked up into mother’s face, as if fearful that the story of Jesus, dwelling in the Tabernacle, might not be really true.

“Mother, how didHe get in there?”

The lady smiled with pleasure as she saw how deeply her words had sunk into the heart of her little son, five years of age; and lifting him up in her arms, as she sat before the altar in her castle chapel, she explained to him the mysteries of the Holy Sacrifice and the wonders Of the Real Presence.

The child listened eagerly while she told him of those whom God had chosen to be His priests, and of the power given to them alone of bringing the great God down from Heaven to live with us on earth. She told him what a priest could do; how he could wash away every sin and raise the dead soul to life; bring back peace and happiness to the broken-hearted; change the bread and wine at Mass into the living Body of Christ, and bear Him in his hands to be the food of others.

“The holy priest does all that, René, and it is he who puts dear Jesus in the Tabernacle, that you may go to Him and ask Him all you want. He is always glad to see you come to visit Him, He will never grow tired of your company, and, perhaps, if you asked Him, René, He might some day make you also one of His priests, and let you hold Him in your consecrated hands.”

Passing the chapel late that night the mother noticed the door half open, and, looking in, saw her baby boy standing on the altar steps. The light of the lamp fell upon his curly head, while, with a look of mingled awe and eager expectation on ~his face, he stretched out his chubby hands towards the Tabernacle, and whispered:

“Jesus, are You there? Mother says You are; but, Jesus, is it really true?”

With a throbbing heart the mother stood rooted to the spot, as she watched her little René bring a chair and climb upon the altar.

“He must be asleep,” he murmured, “I”11 wake Him up.”

Tap, tap, tap, upon the Tabernacle door. The child paused, bending forward to hear an answer.

Tap, tap- “O Jesus,” he cried, with a sob of disappointment in his voice, “I am so sorry You are asleep, for I wanted to ask You to make me a holy priest. I want so much to be a priest that I might hold You in my arms and kiss Your little face as often as I like. Good night, now, dear Jesus; but when You are awake tomorrow I”11 come back to you again, for I do want, Oh! so much, to be one day a holy priest.”

René was right in his eagerness, for the noblest ambition which can fill the heart of any boy is the desire to be one ofGod’s Holy Priests.

A sweet poet, Wordsworth, once wrote

“A mother is a mother still

The holiest thing on earth.”

Had he known the Catholic priesthood, the sublime dignity and lofty calling of Christ’s Anointed, he must have changed his words, since of all God’s creatures there can be none more sacred than the priest, whose body, hands and feet, whose lips, eyes, ears, and very soul are “holy to the Lord.”

A PRIEST’S HOLY BODY

In the tabernacles of our churches are kept the Consecrated Vessels for the service of the altar. They are guarded with jealous care, because the anointing with Holy Oils has given them a sacred character; they may never again be put to profane use-their contact with the Precious Body and Blood of Jesus Christ has imparted to them something of His holiness.

A priest’s body also is a vessel of holiness, set apart for the service of the altar only , blessed by the imposition of the Bishop’s hands, consecrated by the chrism of Ordination, cut off from human love and earthly pleasures by a solemn vow of Chastity. Round that frail but sacred body the Almighty has thrown His protecting arms, and thunders His woes against its violators: “Touch not the Lord’s anointed, for I have separated you from other people, that you should be Mine.”

“You are,” says St. Paul, “a High Priest, holy, innocent, undefiled, separated from sinners and made higher than the heavens.”

THE ANOINTED HANDS

There Is no moment more solemn in the ceremony of Ordination than when the young levite kneels on the altar steps and stretches forth his hands for their anointing. Across the up-turned palm the Bishop traces a cross with Chrism: “Vouchsafe, 0 Lord,” he prays, “to consecrate and sanctify these hands, that whatever they bless may be blessed, and whatsoever they consecrate may be consecrated and made holy, in the Name of Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.”

With hallowed hands still dripping from the Holy Oils, wrapped in a white linen cloth, symbolic of their purity and their power to bind and loose, the newly-ordained lies prostrate on the ground. The bleeding Stigmata of the saints did not pierce more deeply than the words which he feels are graven in his hands:”Holy and Sanctified and Consecrated to the Lord.”

Upon them now will rest the Immaculate Body of the Saviour; they will hold the Consecrated Host and. break the Bread of Life to thousands of hungering souls. These holy hands will be raised aloft to bless the innocent and absolve the sinner; they will pour the waters of Baptism on the new-born babe, join the sacred bonds of Matrimony and anoint the body of the dying Christian to prepare him for his journey to Eternity. Many a time will they be clasped in prayer and stretched out before the altar throne in mute supplication for the souls of men; their secret power will break the chains of sin, drive back to Hell the spirits of darkness, and ward off from a wicked world the anger of an offended God.

Sacred and holy are the hands of every priest, which can not only bless, absolve, and fortify, but hold and touch the living Body of the Lord.

THE FEET OF MERCY

“How beautiful upon the mountains,” says the Prophet, “are the feet of him who bringeth good tidings, and that preacheth peace” Such are the feet of God’s Messenger of Love, ever ready to hasten, to the bedside of the sick and dying, bringing hope and consolation, pardon and reconciliation to the sinful.

In the morning they “go unto the Altar of God” to offer the daily Sacrifice; they turn from the Tabernacle to the Seat of Mercy, the Confessional; by day and night they hurry through the streets and lanes of our cities, across the valleys and up the mountain-side, in heat, and cold, and wet, for souls are ever crying out for the comfort they bear. They are often, like the Master’s feet, weary in the pursuit of sinners, seeking the lost sheep of the House of Israel; but the sound of their coming means salvation and the snatching of God’s loved children from the fires of Hell.

With these thoughts in her mind, St. Catherine of Siena used to throw herself on her knees and kiss the footprints of the holy feet of priests as they passed her on their mission of peace and mercy.

LIPS BRINGING PEACE

Holy, too, are the lips of the priest, formed to utter words no other man may speak. Seven times a day, with the Psalmist, in the Divine Office, they sing the praises of God; over the bowed head of the repentant sinner they bend to whisper the message of reconciliation: “Go in peace, thy sins are forgiven thee.” The dying soul hears them as he sinks into the arms of his Creator, hears them assuring him that all his sins are cancelled, and that he may face his Maker with a brave and trustful hope: “Depart, Christian soul, and may the Lord Jesus meet thee with a smiling and benign countenance,” a prayer that God gladly listens to and obeys, for He loves the priest whom he has chosen.

With the morning light these holy, trembling lips, with love and awe, bring down the Lord of all creation upon our altars: “This is My Body-This is My Blood,” no longer bread and wine, but the living Body of the great God; a moment more and they are purpled with that life-saving flood which streamed from the open Wounds on Calvary, the Precious Blood of the Saviour of mankind.

Holy lips, indeed, whose mission is to sanctify, to pardon, and to console; whose commands the Lord of Hosts obey, ever making earth brighter and Heaven nearer by the marvellous power given them from on high!

HOLY EYES AND EARS

Holy eyes which are closed to earthly things, since they must look so often on the ravishing beauty of the Consecrated Host; eyes which meet the pure gaze of the Hidden God morning after morning during Mass. Holy ears, the trusted friend of countless souls, to whom are confided secrets none others may hear, into whom are poured the sins, the sorrows, the miseries of the human heart, and thus lighten a little the crushing burden of earth’s weary pilgrimage.

The Craven Soul.

“Thou art a priest FOR EVER,” says the ordaining Bishop, set apart “to offer up gifts and sacrifices for sins (Heb. v.). As he lays his hands on the bowed head before him, the Eternal Spirit stamps the soul of the priest with His mysterious “Mark” or “Character.”

The Jewish priests of the Old Law wore always on their foreheads a silver plate bearing the words: “Sanctum Domino-Holyto the Lord”; the Ministers of God’s Church carry graven on their souls the Sign of Ordination, which can never be effaced. In the eyes of God and His Heavenly Court he is no longer a man, a sinful child of Adam, but an “ Alter Christus,” another Christ.

“Did I meet an angel and a priest,” said St. Francis of Assisi, “I would salute the priest before the angel.”

“Thou art a Priest For Ever,” is written on his soul. Forever a priest of the Most High with power over the Almighty.

For ever, whether a saint on earth or buried in sin, whether glorious in Heaven or burning in Hell, “marked and sealed and signed” as God’s most precious treasure which no earthly hand may touch.

Yes, René was right: “Dear Jesus, I want to be a Holy Priest,” for there is no earthly career more glorious, none more honourable, than the life of those who are called apart to serve the Altar and save souls.

CHAPTER II

DIGNITY OF THE PRIESTHOOD

THE ELECT OF GOD

We turn our thoughts back to the days of Our Lord, to the time when the meek Saviour lived amongst men. Darkness has stretched her mantle over the land, bringing repose and sleep to every living thing, but out on the lonely mountain top a solitary figure kneels in prayer. With bowed head and uplifted hands the Divine Redeemer pours out the “Prayer of God” that His Heavenly Father’s blessing may come down upon the work He is about to do.

“And when day was come, He called unto Him His d isciples, and He chose twelve of them whom He also named Apostles” (Luke vi.). Lovingly the Saviour must have looked upon the little band, for they were to be His priests, the first ministers of the New Law He had come from Heaven to establish. They were only poor, rough fishermen, but strong with the Divine commission to “teach and baptise,” each of the twelve would carry their Master’s name to the ends of the earth. To them He would give the power not possessed by the mighty angels, the power “to bind and loose,” and change the bread and wine into His own Body and Blood.

“You have not chosen Me,” He said, as He saw the shrinking humility of His astonished followers, “You have not chosen Me, butI have chosen you” for an honour and dignity unknown in the world before. “I will not now call you servants, but I have called you Friends, because all things whatsoever I have heard of My Father, I have made known to you.”

“You are the salt of the earth” to season men’s lives with the savour of holiness; “You are the light of the world” to lead every straying soul to Me.

Deeply conscious of his own great unworthiness, his faults and failings, many and great though they be, the priest can never forget the loftiness of his calling and that he is the elect of God.

“I-the Great God-have chosen you,” rings in his ears as the soldiers” bayonets flash to the salute.

“I have chosen you” makes him the welcome guest in every house, gives him the place of honour wherever he goes, while, should he be unmindful of the favours he has received, the uncovered head and reverent bow of those he meets bring home to him that others see in the priest, not a sinful man, but Christ’s dear Friend, chosen for a holy work.

St. Martin of Tours was once dining at the table of the Emperor Maximus, in company with all the dignitaries of the court. Filling his goblet with wine, the Emperor presented it to the saint, asking him to bear it to the most distinguished guest in the banqueting-hail. St. Martin rose, and passing by the princes and nobles of the royal suite laid the goblet before his chaplain, exclaiming: “Who is more worthy of this honour than a priest of Jesus Christ?”

“Higher task than that of priesthood,” wrote Carlyle, “was allotted to no man! Is it not honour enough therein to spend and to be spent ?”

A PRIEST TO OFFER SACRIFICE

God has ever wished to be worshipped by sacrifice. Cain and Abel offered Him the first-fruits of their flocks, burning the slain victim as a holocaust in His sight. Noah, in gratitude for his deliverance from the Flood, built an altar to the Lord, arid thus from age to age the “sweet odour of sacrifice” ascended daily before the throne of God till, with the coming of Christ, was at length fulfilled the prophecy of Malachias: “In every place there is sacrifice, and there is offered to My name a clean oblation “-the adorable Sacrifice of Calvary repeated in the Mass.

This is the great work ofthe priest: “For every high priest taken from men,” says the Apostle, “Is ordained that he may offer up gifts and sacrifices for sins” (Heb. v.).

Sacrifice, that is a solemn, public act of worship, offered in the name and for the welfare of the people is an act of religion which can only be performed by one who has been specially chosen, called and empowered to discharge the office of sacrificer; hence no sacrifice can exist without the priesthood.

“I will go unto the Altar of God,” the priest says each mo rning as he begins his Mass, unto the Altar of Sacrifice, for the greatest and most awful of mysteries, to exercise the office of mediator between the Creator and His Creatures. The sins of the world are ever calling to Heaven for vengeance, but the Priest, the man whom God has chosen “to stand between Him and the wicked nation,” has the power to turn aside the angry arm of Divine Justice and win pardon and forgiveness for the sinner.

Once while the Israelites were wandering in the desert, a sedition arose against Moses and Aaron, who fled to the Tabernacle to save their lives. “And the Lord said to Moses: Get you out from the midst of this multitude this moment, for I will destroy them.” Moses loved his people, stiff-necked and rebellious though they were, and in his hour of need remembered the power of the High Priest, and the honour God ever showed His anointed.

“Take the censer,” he said to Aaron, “and put fire in it from the altar, and incense upon it, and go quickly to the people to pray for them: for already wrath is gone out from the Lord, and the plague rageth.” (Fourteen thousand seven hundred men were lying dead). “And Aaron, running to the midst of the multitude, which the burning fire was now destroying, offered incense: and standing between the dead and the living, he prayed for the people, and the plague ceased.”

Morning after morning, at thousands of altars, other Aarons stand praying with “holy and innocent hands,” offering the adorable Sacrifice of Atonement and Propitiation, and once again,as of old, just punishment is averted, and “God does not do the wicked things He said He would do,” through love of His priest.

THE AMBASSADOR OF CHRIST

An eminent Irish Judge, who hears Mass every day in his own oratory before leaving for the law courts, has been accustomed to show his chaplain every mark of respect and esteem. With his own hands he pours the water on the priest’s fingers, holding the towel while he wipes them; he helps him to put on the sacred vestments, serves the Mass himself, and in many other ways strives to impress upon those present the dignity of his guest.

“When I am on circuit,” he said once, “I always bear in mind that I am the, representative of his Majesty, the King, and I expect and demand that all should remember to show me the honour due to my rank; a priest is the ambassador of Christ, the King of kings, and therefore still more worthy of all the honour we can pay him.”

The Ambassador of Christ! A glorious title for anyone to claim! As Ambassador, sent by the King of Heaven and Earth to bring His message of “peace and good will” to all men; a Liberator, with power to break the chains of Hell and set free the souls held captive by the fetters of sin; a Consoler, bearing the balm of consolation to bleeding hearts, bringing back lost happiness by the certainty of forgiveness; the Representative of God Himself, raised up to continue His own work: “All power is given to Mc in heaven and on earth, go ye, therefore, and teach all nations; whosoever heareth you heareth Me;. . beholdI am with you all days even to the consummation of the world.”

Is it any wonder, then that a certain saint, to whom God had granted the favour of seeing his Angel Guardian in bodily form, noticed on the morning of his Ordination that the Angel, who had always gone before him, now walked behind. The Heavenly Court had seen the marvellous change wrought in the soul by the imposition of hands, though hidden from human eyes.

“I can rule the bodies of men,” exclaimed Napoleon, “but the kingship of a priest is over souls; what dignity can equal this!”

CHAPTER III

POWER OF THE PRIESTHOOD

Raised up and chosen by God to be His earthly representative, the guardian and protector of the Flock of Christ, a priest is fitted for his lofty calling by the plenitude of grace poured on him by the sacrament of Holy Orders, and given powers the magnitude of which he can scarcely realise.

THE MIRACLE OF THE MASS

“Now, there are made many priests,” says Thomas a Kempis, “and Christ is offered up in divers places.” Custom has made the Holy Sacrifice no longer a wonder, but if Our Lord had not said it, who would have dared to

“do this in commemoration of Me”?

To prepare for the first Mass ever offered to God, the Sacrifice of His own beloved Son, many things were needed.

Thousands of years of prayer and longing for the promised Redeemer must pass away; the slaying of the Paschal

Lamb, with its mysterious rites and ceremonies; the birth of the Virgin Mother, the beautifying of her soul with every virtue to fit her for her glorious mission. Then came the thirty years of hidden life, the betrayal, the mocking and the scourging, till the innocent, bleeding Victim stood ready for the altar of the Cross.

The bread and wine, the consecrated stone, a priest. is all that is needed now, for “at any moment it is in his power to call the Lord of Glory with holy words down upon the earth, to bless Him with his lips, to hold Him in his hands, to receive Him into his mouth, and to distribute Him to the faithful, whilst at the same time the Angels stand about him in reverent awe to honour Him who is sacrificed.”

“The power of the priest,” exclaims St. Bernardine of Sienna, “surpasses the power of the Blessed Virgin; Mary brought the Son of God only once into this world, the priest can do so daily.”

The moment of Consecration comes, the priest’s head is bowed as the awful words fall from his lips: “This is My

Body.” With the swiftness of light, the Lord of Hosts has “leaped down from His throne on high,” the substance of the bread has gone, and” in his hands, which he has striven to render “holy and undefiled,” the Melchisedech of the New

Law holds his Creator, Redeemer and Judge. A moment more and by the second words of consecration,”This is My

Blood,” the Lamb of God lies “mystically slain,” for the sacrifice of Calvary and the Altar are the same.

“WHATSOEVER YOU SHALL LOOSE UPON EARTH, SHALL BE LOOSED ALSO IN HEAVEN.”

Not content with humbly submitting Himself to the will of the priest, God has given him the right to sit in judgment on the sins of men and release them from the debt they owe to His offended majesty.

“Go, show yourselves to the priest,” He said, “he is My representative on earth, holding in his hands the power of God. No matter what your sins may be, no matter how numerous or repeated times without number, if only he forgives you, so shall I. His authority, his right to forgive is absolute, for I have said to him:

“Whatsoever you shall bind upon earth, shall be bound also in heaven; and Whatsoever you shall loose on earth, shall be loosed also in heaven.””

Confident in that promise for “God is faithful and cannot deceive,” the poor sinner kneels at his confessor’s feet. He knows he is not speaking to an ordinary man but to a “another Christ,”” and humbly but trustfully pours into his ear the secrets of his soul.

His life has been a sad record of sin and shame. God’s love has been scorned, His mercy abused; crime and iniquity heaped up till his sins were more numerous than the sands on the sea shore.

He has hurled the thunderbolt of destruction at himself; he is stripped of every particle of sanctifying grace and merit; the virtue of charity is gone, Faith and Hope are weakened; the Holy Spirit with His gifts has fled, while before his feet yawns the bottomless pit of hell, from which eternity will not release him. What he has said no one will ever know; sorrow fills his heart, he hears the words: “I absolve thee from thy sins in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost,” and the hideous load of sin drops from his soul for ever. Back hastens the Holy Spirit to His earthly temple, driving out the Powers of Darkness; grace and merit lost by sin are restored; the gates of Hell are closed; and the soul so lately the enemy of God, sealed with the sign of damnation, is once more His child, the heir to the Kingdom of Heaven.

The saints, from time to time, have made the dead body live again, knowing that it must one day crumble to dust, but the miracle of the priest is far greater, raising a dead soul and giving it an eternal life which can never end.

“Oh! Father,” exclaimed an officer as he finished his confession, “tell the world there is no happiness to be compared to that which I have found here at your feet. God has given me riches and glory. I have never refused myself any of the false pleasures and joys of passion,but all is nothing to the joy of this day, the happiness of forgiveness.”

THE KEYS OF THE KINGDOM OF HEAVEN

“Knowest thou not,” said Pilate, “that I have power to condemn thee, and I have power to release thee?” Jesus answered: “Thou shouldst not have any power against Me, unless it were given thee from above.” Conscious of the great powers bestowed on him at Ordination, the minister of God knows well that they are “given him from above,” for the spiritual help of the flock entrusted to his care. To him they bring the little ones that the waters of baptism may make them God’s children; he alone can loosen the chains of sin and give back the Wedding Garment of grace. Were he taken from the world, the Mass must cease, Christ would no longer come down from His throne of glory, and the sepulchre of the Tabernacle, where His living Body had lain concealed for ages, would at last be empty.

To him is given the joyous task of preparing the Eucharistic Banquet, of breaking the Bread of Life and feeding with the Food of Angels the souls of those who hunger for love. His hand can bless the marriage bond, cure the sick body by the holy unction, and speed the departing soul, fortified, absolved, and comforted, on its way to Paradise. To him are given even the”Keys of the Kingdom of Heaven,” his power reaches out beyond the grave, for, the sentence of “binding or loosing,” which he passes in the tribunal of penance, is ratified at the bar of eternal justice above.

How little the world thinks of the priest of God! How little it realises all it owes to him; the chastisement for sin he has warded off, the graces he has won for others, the help he has been to weary hearts, the souls he has saved from Hell. He goes on his way, at times despised and hated, his faults and failings magnified, as if he were not still a man, but the power of God goes with him, the grace of God surrounds him, while love, respect, and reverence follow his footsteps from those who know all they owe to the humble priest, the Ambassador of Christ on earth.

THE POWER OF PRIESTLY HOLINESS

Armed with the weapons of his sacred calling, the priest is ever an instrument for good; but, strengthened by the power of great personal holiness, he becomes indeed a terror to Hell.

In the little village Ars, near Lyons, lived and died, some fifty years ago, a simple French Curé. He had none of the great gifts which the world looks for in her famous men; so deficient was he in learning, that his Bishop hesitated about ordaining him, and he could call neither talent nor eloquence to his aid. But the Blessed Curé d”Ars possessed a marvellous, secret power over men, the power of personal holiness.

For the last thirty years his life never varied. At midnight, after a broken sleep of only three hours, he entered his confessional, where for eighteen hours he absolved and consoled the hundred thousand pilgrims who annually came to Ars. He revelled in austerities and humiliations, he hungered for prayer, winning souls to God and converting the most hardened sinners by the example of his heroic life as much as by the graces of his sanctity.

Francis Xavier was a saintly priest, too, and thus in ten short years was able to plant the standard of the Cross in fifty-two kingdoms and baptise, with his own hand, over a million pagans.

The famous Cardinal Perronne used to say: “If learning only were needed to refute the Calvinists, I should hope to bring it about; but in order to convert them, one must send them the saintly Francis de Sales.”

Holiness in anyone is a mighty force for good, but priestly holiness has a power which charms all men, terrifies Hell, and wins the heart of God.

CHAPTER IV. A PRIEST”S WORK

SAVING SOULS

“To save souls” is an expression often on the lips of many people, but how few give a thought to all that lies hidden in those words! To save a life is an act of heroism which win the admiration of every man; to save an immortal soul and give it back to God, passes unnoticed in the world.

“FIRE! FIRE!”

Some years ago a fire broke out in a warehouse of an Irish city with such rapidity that, in a few moments, the whole building was a blazing furnace. The inmates had barely time to save their lives, and a sigh of relief went up when it became known that all had got out safely. But suddenly a cry of horror burst from the crowd and every eye was turned to the top window, where a little boy of ten, with pallid face and terror-stricken eyes, was seen vainly striving to tear down the iron bars of the window. Piteously he stretched forth his hands, screaming for help, while the red tongues of fire, which would soon wrap him round in their fiery embrace, crept higher and higher.

Brave men rushed forward in a mad effort to save the child, but were held back by men not less brave than they, who knew it was madness to enter the building now. “ The stairs are burning,” they cried, “at any moment the roof may fall in-God help the poor child, his sufferings will soon be over!”

A moment more and a fireman dashed into the burning house, right into the roaring flames. A death-like silence fell on the crowd; strong men’s faces turned ghastly white, for none expected to see that hero again. Then, from a thousand throats a mighty cheer burst forth, for there at the window, the boy safely clasped in his arms, stood the gallant fireman. Quickly the escape was run up, and in a few seconds rescued and rescuer stood safely on the ground, just as the blazing roof fell in with a crash.

It was a noble act, and all hearts go out in admiration to the nameless hero; yet, after all, what had he done? He had saved a boy’s life, he had given the lad a few more short years to spend in this poor world, which, at its best, is but a Vale of Tears. But a soul? To save a soul? What does that mean? It means the rescuing of some poor creature from the never-ending, everlasting pains of Hell, from the flames of the bottomless Pit, and giving him in exchange the unspeakable bliss of Heaven for all eternity. What comparison can there be between the two? If it is a noble and blessed action to save a life, which can only last a few years, what must we think of snatching a soul from endless misery? How content we should feel, if, when we came to die, we couldsay, “There is one soul in Heaven now who would have been in Hell if it had not been for me.” What comfort such a thought would be to a dying man, with what confidence would he go before the Judgment Seat if he could look back and say his life on earth had helped to save even one immortal soul.

Who can measure what a holy and zealous priest can do for the salvation of souls? “I think it is no exag geration to say that every priest is the means of saving at least five thousand souls from being lost eternally in Hell” (Archbishop Lynch of Toronto).

Sometimes God gives him the happiness of absolving a dying sinner, literally snatching him at the last moment from the clutches of the demon, but most of the glorious work is hidden from his eyes. Still he goes bravely on, fighting the never-ending battle for the hundred and forty thousand persons who die daily (a million a week), knowing well the infinite value of his morning Mass, the all-saving power of the Precious Blood he offers for sinners, and how easy it is for a priest to win from the Sacred Heart of Christ mercy and forgiveness for the souls He died to save.

THE HARVEST IS GREAT

Readers of the Life of St. Francis Xavier will remember the agonising cry that broke from his lips as he gazed on the teeming population around him: “Souls, souls! O God, give me souls! The cry today is: “Priests, priests! send us priests!” for the harvest is waiting, but none to gather it “Send me half a million priests,” writes a Jesuit missioner from India, “and I promise to find them abundant work at once.”

From the Islands comes a despairing appeal: “Bishop Harty has nearly a hundred parishes without priests, Bishop Hendrick sixty more equally destitute. Thousands of pagans are asking for baptism, but there is no one to instruct them.”

“My parish in China,” writes Father Fraser, “is one hundred miles long by fifty wide. It contains seven hundred and fifty towns, with a population ranging from 500 souls to a quarter of a million each, and to cope with that huge work I have only two priests.”

Americans would naturally resent to be placed in the same category as the Heathen Chinese, but, says Archbishop Christie of Oregon, “There are between fifty and sixty million churchless persons in the United States who should be reached by the Catholic Church.”

“Most people in England,” the Protestant Bishop of Rochester stated recently in a public speech, “not only do not worship Almighty God, or believe in Jesus Christ, but they know absolutely nothing about Him, probably less than about Mahomet or Confucius. . . . .to hundreds of thousands He is practically unknown except as the substance of a hideous oath.”

The Bishop of London speaks of his “Pagan diocese, where not three per cent of the population ever enter a church. There are whole streets within easy walk of Charing Cross, and miles and miles in more obscure places, where the people literally live without God in the world.”

Not counting these so-called Christians, at the present moment the world contains nearly a thousand million pagans (1,000,000,000). Placed shoulder to shoulder, they would form a line four hundred thousand (400,000) miles long, or seventeen times round the earth. Passing a given point, in single file, one per second, day and night without ceasing, it would take thirty-one and a half years for the last person in that hideous procession to go by.

Four hundred thousand miles of pagans! Every one of them dear to God, and yet not even knowing His holy Name!

“What Christ did and suffered,” says Père Grou, S.J., “He would have endured for the salvation of even a single soul. The salvation of a soul is, then, the price of the Blood of God, the price of the death of God, the price of the greatest sacrifice which Christ could possibly make, which proves that the value of a soul is beyond understanding.”

“Could you but see the beauty of a soul, you would be so much enamoured of it that you would do nothing else but ask souls of God” (St. Mary Magdalen de Pazzi).

“Behold, saith the Lord, I will send many Fishers, and after this I will send manyHunters” (Jer. xvi.). Dear reader, why should you not be one of the “Fishers and Hunters” of men’s souls?

CHAPTER V. CAN I BE A PRIEST?

WHAT IS NECESSARY?

One of the most momentous acts of the Pontificate of Pius X. was the authoritative settling of the conditions requisite in candidates for Holy Orders.

Spiritual writers had been accustomed to insist on the necessity of a strong interior attraction for the priestly state as a certain sign of the Divine call, and maintained that if this sensible urging of the Holy Spirit, this desire and longing to be a priest of the Most High, were wanting, there could not be any real vocation, and delusion was to be feared.

Great stress was laid on the fact that since a vocation was a free gift of God, an act by which He selects some in preference to others, this choice must be made known interiorly to the soul so favoured; without this interior vocation it would be presumption and the height of folly to aspire to such a dignity, recalling the warning of St. Paul: “Neither doth any man take the honour to himself, but he that is called by God, as Aaron was” (Heb. v.).

The result of this inaccurate teaching, now shown to be quite contrary to the mind of the Church, was that many a lad, possessing all the qualifications for the making of a splendid priest, was told he had no vocation, because he had no sensible attraction for the life, and even a fear and dread of its obligations.

In 1909 a French priest, Canon Joseph Lahitton, Professor of Dogmatic Theology in the Seminary of Poyanne, in the diocese of Aire and Dax, published his famous book,. La Vocation Sacerdotale, in which he stated that the traditional view of the Church was that a vocation to the priesthood did not consist in any subjective feeling or inclination (“attrait”) for that state, but was manifested by a certain fitness or idoneity in the candidate, and that it was the ministers of the Church who really gave the vocation in the calling to Orders. He argued that nothing further was required in the aspirant for a legitimate call from the Bishop than the three conditions laid down by St. Thomas and St. Alphonsus: “probitas vitae, scientia competens et recta intentio,” in other words, that there was no need to seek boys with vocations, but rather candidates for a vocation, those who by their piety and general fitness gave promise of being worthy of the great gift of vocation bestowed on them at ordination by the Bishop.

A special commission of Cardinals, appointed by Pope Pius X., having examined the question, approved fully of the teaching of Canon Lahitton on sacerdotal vocations, and their judgment was formally sanctioned by the decree of July 2, 1912.

From this decree of the Holy See it is now certain:

(a) That a vocation to the priesthood does not necessarily include any interior inclination of the person or prompting of the Holy Spirit.

(b)That all that is required from aspirants to Ordination is “a right intention, and such fitness of nature and grace, as evidenced in integrity of life and sufficiency of learning, as will give a well-founded hope of his rightly discharging the obligations of the priesthood.”

(c) That, given these conditions, a true vocation is unquestionably conferred by the Bishop at the moment of Ordination.

Father A. Vermeersch, S.J., of Louvain, in his treatise, De Religiosis Institutis et Personis, lays down two signs of a vocation to the priesthood: “One negative, the absence of any impediment (physical deformity, insanity, etc.); the other positive, a firm resolution, with the help of God, to serve Him in the ecclesiastical state.” “Is your intention honest and your strength and ability sufficient?” he asks; do you wish to be a priest, not to have an easy, comfortable life, or for the honour and esteem it will bring you, but to do your part in the building up of Christ’s Kingdom on earth, convinced that a priest cando far more for God’s dishonoured glory, the saving of perishing souls, and the sanctification of his own? If so, a boy may go on to the Altar of God without any doubt whether “he hath been chosen to the sacred ministry and apostolate” (Acts i.), happy and secure in the thought that the Lord hath turned His eyes of love upon him and marked him as His own.

CHAPTER VI. THE DEVIL”S TRAPS

Knowing well the power of a priest, and how he can spoil the work of Hell for the destruction of souls, the devil, “the enemy of the human race,” strives might and main to choke the seeds of a vocation, and stifle the holy aspiration in the hearts of those who hope to stand, one day, at the Altar.

A. -RESPONSIBILITIES OF THE PRIESTHOOD

Many a generous soul has felt his courage sink and his resolution waver as he thought of the immense responsibilities the priest bears on his shoulders. He knows the tremendous dignity and power conferred on a man by Ordination, and that “Unto whomsoever much is given, of him much shall be required.” He pictures to himself the purity of heart and hand, the holiness of life, the bright example of every virtue expected from the guardians of the Holy of Holies; he realises that the care of souls is a heavy burden and a charge not to be rashly undertaken, and that though sacerdotal ordination bestows a vocation on a man, it does not follow that all do well in offering themselves for ordination. “It were better for Judas,” said the Lord, “if he had never been born.”

It is a clever snare of the evil spirit, which must be met by great trust and confidence in the goodness of Him Who will never refuse His help to those whom He has selected to do His work. “God never calls,” says St. Bernardine, “without giving, at the same time, to those whom He calls, sufficient grace for the attainment of the end to which they are called.”

B. -ITS DANGERS

Though the dangers of the priestly calling are not a few, its helps and safeguards are many. Temptations, known only to the levite himself, spring up in most unexpected quarters. He must walk warily to avoid the pit-falls set for his feet; he must be ready for dangers to soul and body, for “perils in the city, for perils in the wilderness, for perils from false brethren,” and, above all, prepared for the envy and hatred of Satan, who “would have him that he might sift him as wheat.” But through it all the priest remembers that Christ “has prayed for him that his faith fail not,” which braces his courage for the fight, and strong with the grace which comes from the daily Sacrifice, the sevenfold prayer of the Breviary, and his sacred duties, he rests secure, trusting in his Master’s promise.

C. -WANT OF ABILITY

Not a few are turned away from the service of God by a distrust of their own ability, or the fear of never being able to acquire the learning looked for in a priest. In the acquisition of knowledge the race is not always to the swift; patient, plodding perseverance will do the same work more effectually than the erratic flights of genius. “Experience shows,” writes Cardinal Gibbons, “that solid judgment with moderate attainments is far more serviceable to religion than brilliant talents combined with deficiency in practical taste. The occasions for the display of genius are rare; the opportunities for the exercise of mother-wit and discretion occur every hour.”

The Church has recently raised to her Altars one who was so wanting in talent and ability for study, that his superiors advised him, several times, to leave the seminary. Even as a priest the Blessed Curé d”Ars often spoke of the labour and pain the preparation of his sermons cost him, calling it the greatest trial of his life; yet no one was more frequently consulted in difficult cases, his answers being full of sound common sense and heavenly wisdom which he found in prayer.

D. -NOT HOLY ENOUGH

When all else fails, the devil transforms himself into an angel of light, and plays the part of the devotee. He fills the soul of the young aspirant with a sense of his own sinfulness and unworthiness of such an exalted calling, bringing back to his mind the failings of his early days, the times he has yielded to temptation, and how utterly wanting he is, even now, in solid virtue and holiness.

To those who have contracted a habit of sin from which they have not freed themselves, the warning of Almighty God to Moses may be aptly applied: “Come not nigh hither, for the place whereon thou standest is holy ground.” The handling of the God of Purity is not for them, until such time, at least, as they have given abundant proof of being “innocent in hands and clean of heart.”

But this does not mean that a sinful life in the past need bar a man from Ordination; St. Peter, St. Augustine, and many other holy penitents offended God deeply, yet He did not refuse to number them among His chosen ones. As Cardinal Manning says very truly: “There are two kinds of men who are called by our Lord to be His priests. The first are the innocent. The second are the penitents. The antecedents of these two kinds are widely unlike, but their end is one and the same. They come up to the Altar by paths far apart; but they meet before it in one heart and mind, conformed to the perfection of the great High Priest.”

Years of careful training in a seminary, habits of prayer and self-restraint, have crushed down the fierceness of early passion, purifying the soul more and more from the effects of sin, leaving to the graces of Ordination to perfect the work begun by God and fit the weak, unworthy creature for the sublime task of the ministry.

“No one wants you to become a priest if it be not your vocation; but if the priesthood is the crown God has prepared for you, what a loss, and one day what remorse, if you refuse it!” (Rev. J. M. Lelen).

CHAPTER VII. A WORD TO PARENTS

How few parents realise the immense power they possess for moulding the character and shaping the future career of their children. The tiny babe just born to them comes from God’s hand with vast possibilities for good and evil; like the young forest tree, its soul may be trained to grow straight and beautiful, or bent and twisted, made horrible and deformed.

Many a priest can look back to his early years and say with gratitude that it was to the watchful care of his parents, to their prayers, their example and holy lives, he owed the happiness of his sacred calling. God held the place of honour in his home; the image of His priestly Heart was ever before his childish eyes, the names of Jesus and Mary were the first he learned to lisp. The stories of God’s friends, the Saints, were told him as he lay in his little cot, and mother’s hand held his while he said his baby prayers. A few years later, in all the glory of a spotless surplice and soutane, he knelt at the altar to serve his first Mass; was it while he moved among the unseen angels that the great God chose him as His priest?

Thus, step, by step, was he guided by counsel and advice through the perils of youth, till at last his consecrated hands rested on the bowed heads of those who had led him to the Altar of God, giving back to the Creator the child they had received from Him.

Unfortunately, some parents look upon a vocation in the family as a sort of social catastrophe. They may not, perhaps, go so far as directly to crush out the desire for a higher life, which God has planted in their child’s heart, but they give it no encouragement. They speak of the advantages of the various professions, the fame to be won as a lawyer or doctor, the glory of a military career, the triumphs of the Diplomatic Service, forgetting the saying of St. Vincent de Paul,”There is no grander work on earth than to form a priest,” no calling nobler or more honourable than to labour for the salvation of souls as the Ambassador of Christ.

No wonder the hearts of so few young men are fired by this noblest form of ambition, the longing to serve the King of kings, or aspire to the unspeakable dignity of the priesthood.

The great French Cardinal Mermillod, once wrote: “Christian women! your mother hearts do not burn enough with Divine love that their exhalations should bring forth the heart of a priest. Oh! ask of God that your families may give sons to the Church, ask Him that you, in your turn, may have the courage of sacrifice, and that from you may be born an apostle: to speak to men about God, to enlighten the world, to serve Him at the altar, is not this, after all, a grand and magnificent destiny?”

Even those parents who have not been blessed with a son, can do much towardshelping to find recruits for God’s grand army. It is an admitted fact that the multitude of vocations in France in recent years has been largely due to the wide diffusion of books treating of vocations, and such papers as The Annals of the Faith, and Catholic Missions. A simple pamphlet put in the hands of a boy may be the means of planting the seed of a vocation in his heart, by making him think what he might one day become.

A wealthy Catholic lady has devoted her life to the noble work of educating poor lads for the priesthood.

In a single year she has assisted three hundred and five ecclesiastical students, and in thirty years spent her large fortune in the training of hundreds of priests, many of whom would never have celebrated the Sacred Mysteries but for her generosity and selfsacrifice. In this world, even, she has reaped her reward: “My young Chinese priest, in the first year of his ministry, baptised 1,500 pagan children. Most of them, on account of the previous neglect of their parents, died soon after baptism, and went to Heaven. Yet these 1500 children, snatched from Satan, are only a part of the fruits of his year’s labour as a priest.”

To give one’s child to God and His work may be a sacrifice for a father or mother, but no joy on earth can equal that of parents as they see standing at the altar, the God of Holiness in his hands, the boy who owes his life, his all, to them.

Only a parent can understand the depth of feeling in the following letter, written by a mother on the morning of her son’s first Mass

“Bless God with me, I am now the mother of a priest. When, twenty-four years ago, a son was given me, you remember how I was almost overcome with the intensity of my joy. I beheld him living beside me, stretching forth my hand to the cradle to assure myself that my dream, realised in the flesh, indeed nestled there. How different, how much higher the joy that today fills my soul with emotions never before experienced!

“I AM NOW THE MOTHER OF A PRIEST!”

“The hands, so tiny twenty -four years ago when I kissed them so fondly, are now consecrated hands, destined to hold the Bread of Life.

“That intellect, which through my instrumentality received its light, is now set apart for the service of God.

“That body, which I have nursed and cared for, passing many sleepless nights when disease strove to carry it away, that body is now consecrated. The servant of a priest’s soul, it will wear itself out in restoring sinners, teaching the ignorant, dispensing the Lord Himself to all who seek Him.

“That heart, that virgin heart, that touched no other heart save mine, is now sacred.

“When God leads across his path a wandering sinner, how well he will know what words are best to strengthen such a one and bring him back to the truth. Yes, he will go about doing good; he will be a priest after the Heart of Jesus.

“There he stood, tall and serious. There was something glorious in his aspect. I was not far from the sanctuary. Enraptured at what I saw, I dared not move. Presently I saw him kneel before the Sacred Host, and I seemed to hear his thoughts. I could not pray. I could only stammer forth, “Almighty God, I thank Thee, I thank Thee. This priest was mine. I formed him. His soul was kindled from my soul. He is mine no more. He is Thine. Keep him from the shadow of evil. He is of the earth, earthly; save him from ever offending Thee. Almighty God, I love Thee, I love him, I reverence him;he is Thy priest.”

“At Holy Communion, the altar boy saw me coming and said the Confiteor; the celebrant turned to me and raised his hand; it was the absolution for his mother.

My son! He sobbed, I think; then he took the ciborium and came towards me. What a union! God, His priest, and I.

“Did I pray? I do not know. A strange peace took possession of my soul, which was overflowing with love and thanksgiving. My God and my son! I am almost too happy. There have been sweet days in my life, but this is the happiest of all. For the first time I have a conception of how the endless instant of eternity with God is to be spent. Farewell, I can write no more.”

(From Towards the Altar.)

Nihil obstat:

Joannes J. Coyne, S. J.,

Cens. Tkeol. Dep.

Imprimatur:

@ EDUARDUS,

Archiep. Dub1inen., Hiberniae Primas.

DUBLINI die 4 Maii, 1929.

********

Should Mothers Work?

REV. GEORGE. KELLY

INDEX

ONE of the most significant changes of our time-perhaps the most important of all-has been the gradual and insidious breakdown of the family unit which has served man since his earliest moments. And no aspect of this breakdown is more alarming than the growing number of mothers who spend their days at work outside the home.

The extent of this trend is dramatically illustrated by figures compiled by the U.S. Census Bureau. In 1890, about

4,000,000 women in the United States-one in seven-were employed outside the home. By 1920, there were about

8,000,000 female jobholders-and most were single women, widows, or mothers whose children had grown and no longer required their care. Even after World War I, the typical American husband considered it his shame if his wife worked to augment his income; it meant to him that he was an incompetent provider.

Contrast those statistics with today’s. In 1958, according to the same government sources, about 23,000,000 women were in the labour force. One worker in three was female. For the first time in our history, more married than single women are employed by business and industry. Even more startling is the fact that one of every five mothers with children under five has a full-time job. Economists have estimated that if present trends continue, the married woman between 35 and 65 who remains at home will be in the minority within fifteen years; before this century ends, the woman who strives to fulfill her historic role as educator of her children will be virtually extinct.

What lies behind the frantic effort by so many American mothers to relinquish their position in the home and to place themselves on a payroll?

An obvious answer might be that their family needs the money. Actually, however, a survey by the U.S. Department of Labor has revealed that only about one woman worker in seven is the sole support of her family. Such bread-winners are usually widows or are separated from their husbands. They can see no alternative to work. They either take outside employment to support their families or go on relief.

The vast majority of mothers work for reasons other than absolute economic necessity, however. Most seek to provide higher standards of living than would be possible on the husband’s income alone. For instance, many take jobs so that the family may have a more expensive home, better furniture, an automobile, the opportunity to take vacations and similar privileges. Another category of working mothers consists of those who seek creative satisfactions which they feel that they cannot obtain by caring for their children. Many in this group have been educated to work in the professions, or as secretaries, typists and the like.

Other factors-and combinations of factors-doubtless contribute to the decision of mothers to work. A woman may desire to avoid the loneliness which frequently accompanies the job of caring for small children. She may want to feel independent of her husband. She may seek the excitement often found in the business world where there are new challenges and people to meet. But regardless of why a woman leaves her children in other hands and becomes a wageearner, one fact is paramount: unless she has a compelling economic reason for doing so, she is downgrading motherhood as her career. And since civilized people have long agreed that the development of young minds and souls is the greatest and most rewarding task that can be entrusted to humans, it is obvious that the woman who voluntarily turns away from her responsibility is changing the function of motherhood which has existed for ages. She is thus encouraging a revolution which will have a powerful effect upon society for generations to come.

In fairness to working mothers, however, it must be stated that the majority probably do not fully realize the consequences in terms of harm to their families and themselves that result from their long daily absences from the home.

Harm to the child. The young child needs his mother. No one else can adequately substitute. A child needs her constant affection and tender guidance, because only upon these foundations can he build the sense of security he needs for his full emotional development. He cannot get this affection at a nursery school. Nor can he obtain it from a succession of trained nursemaids who-however conscientious-cannot give the continuity of love essential for his growth.

The obligation of the woman who bears a child to care for it during its early formative years is recognized even by primitive societies. But what every woman instinctively knows is confirmed by the cold, analytical studies of scientists. For example, in a historic report on “Maternal Care and Mental Health,” published in Geneva in 1952, Dr. John Bowlby declared that the child’s entire personality development depends upon the continuity of his relationship with his mother. If the child learns to give his love intimately and consistently to one person throughout his early years of growth, he develops a trust in human goodness and an inner security that enables him to meet confidently the problems of growing up.

What are the effects upon a child deprived of his mother’s love during his early, crucial years? Medical records provide a voluminous and terrifying answer. During World War II, governmental authorities in Europe decided to evacuate children from zones in danger of enemy attack. Doctors had the opportunity to compare the psychological effect upon evacuated youngsters separated from their mothers, and upon children who remained with their mothers in areas where bombs fell. The doctors found that the incidence of neurosis and psychosis was fantastically higher among the evacuated children. Those who remained at home could endure even the threat of death without permanent psychological injury, because the security of their mothers’ love sustained them in every time of danger.

The feeling that he has been deserted is one of the most terrifying experiences a young person can face. As proof, consider the hysterical scenes in a hospital ward. A child deposited in strange surroundings may experience such an intense fear of the unknown that it etches itself into his memory for the rest of his life. Psychiatrists report that the loss of their mother- through death, desertion, divorce or other factors-gives some children a fear and insecurity that they never entirely lose. Such a child may revert to infantile habits-his attempt to recapture the days when he had his mother’s love. He may resist all efforts at discipline, and may whine or cry for no apparent reason. As an adult, he may require psychiatric care, for the adult patient who lost his mother during his early childhood sometimes is unable to give unstinting love to his wife-or to any human being- because he dreads the pain he would feel anew if his love were rejected again.

Of course, few children suffer in this acute way if a working mother shows her love when she and her child are together. Nonetheless, the child suffers more psychological damage than a parent perhaps realizes. The extent of the damage depends, naturally, on the amount of maternal deprivation.

Dr. Bowlby, in a report quoted by the “Ladies’ Home Journal” of November 1958, says that the commonest result is a tendency to feel anxious and unhappy and to dread solitude. These symptoms are related to a feeling of basic insecurity. Dr. Bowlby says that children who have never received continuous loving care from one person cannot learn to love and develop emotional depth. “They act from whim,” he says, “and are very sad, unreliable people indeed.

“Children who have known real mothering fo r a time and then have lost it before they are three sometimes grow up full of hate and mistrust, mixed with a desire for love that they are afraid to admit but which comes out in such things as stealing and promiscuity-lone wolves and lost souls, they are. Deprivation after the age of three isn’t quite so bad, but it still results too often in excessive desires for affection and excessive jealousy which cause acute inner conflict and unhappiness.”

Many working mothers report that on Saturdays and Sundays, when they are at home, their little ones are with them constantly and do not want to let them out of their sight. The mother interprets this as an indication that she retains her child’s love and trust. True, but it also indicates the child’s insecurity and his fear that she will again leave him.

Harm to the husband . The damage that a working wife may inflict upon her husband may be almost as great as that done to her child. Man by nature must be the head of the home. From our earliest day, and through all stages of our civilization, he has been the family’s provider. He is best fitted for this role: he is naturally active and decisive; he is muscularly stronger than woman; his physical reflexes are better developed. These characteristics have enabled him to hunt, fish and provide the other necessities of life to enable the family to live together. Even today, when physical prowess is not the most important attribute for the provider, typical masculine traits are required to achieve success in the business world.

By taking a position outside the home, a mother throws the historic relationship with her husband out of balance. How can he be the head of the house when he is not considered capable of performing his basic function? The very qualities she must develop in the working world- masculine traits of aggressiveness, decisiveness, coldness, impersonality-are the antithesis of those she needs in dealing with husband and children. She no longer complements her husband as nature intended. She becomes his rival. However much husbands sometimes encourage or accept the employment of the wife outside the home, the situation is not normal and not conducive to a good husband-wife relationship.

In other days, the mother always was responsible for the care of the home, and boys and girls knew that it was her job to mend clothes, prepare meals, wash diapers and clean the house. Today, husbands of working wives often do all of these tasks. Their youngsters have a difficult time in determining where Father’s job begins and ends, and where Mother’s function begins and ends. But as we have seen, a human being’s full development can come only if he knows clearly what is expected of him as an adult. Boys must know what a man’s work is. Girls must know how mothers should act. When there is a vast neutralized area, neither clearly masculine nor feminine, the sexual development of youngsters and their ability to comprehend their own responsibility in marriage are impaired. One of the great causes of marital unhappiness is the uncertainty of partners as to their respective roles. This confusion was first created in their childhood experience.

In view of the fact that her act of working outside the home downgrades her husband, his resentment might often be expected. Researchers of the Marriage Council of Philadelphia found this to be a fact. They studied the causes of troubled marriages referred to them for help, and they concluded positively that tensions in a home tend to increase when both partners produce incomes. The largest number of disagreements centred around management of the house, finances, the wife’s job, the husband’s work, the sharing of household tasks and the upbringing of the children. The researchers concluded flatly that the very existence of the marriage is threatened if a wife works against her husband’s wishes.

Harm to the family unit. A working mother may cause more subtle damage to the family unit. For instance, if she works merely to improve material standards of living and not from sheer necessity, she may tend to put false values in first place. The family may come to believe that a new rug, steak on the table instead of hamburger, or clothes that reflect the latest decrees from Paris all are necessary to the enjoyment of life. Such standards may accustom her children to view life’s successes and failures from a materialistic point of view. They thus may be taught, by example if not by word, to put spiritual and emotional values in a lower place.

Once materialism takes over in a home, the birth-control mentality almost surely follows. When a mother works to raise her family’s living standards, she may more easily succumb to the temptation to prevent the birth of a new life which would force her to quit her job and thus lower her standard of living. Or if she becomes pregnant, the child may be held responsible for reducing the family income-and may never receive the loving acceptance which is his right. Family limitation almost always goes hand in hand with the young working mother. The great tragedy of this arrangement is that it deprives children of brothers and sisters who contribute to a well-rounded and affectionate family life.

Harm to herself. The harm a working mother does to her children and her husband may be equaled by that she does to herself. First, she takes the risk that once she gets a job-even a temporary one-she will not be able to become a fulltime homemaker again. As millions of working wives can testify, it is all too easy for a family to live up to its new income.

One mother, by no means atypical, once took a sales clerk’s position to earn extra money for Christmas. She boarded her two small children, four and two years old, with her married sister who lived a mile away. Thanks to her earnings, her children had better clothes and her husband purchased expensive photographic equipment he had always wanted. After Christmas, however, the family was as badly off financially as before, and the mother decided to continue working-just for a few months more, of course. But soon the family was spending the additional income as soon as it came in. The husband was a salesman who could take days off at his convenience-without pay-and now that his wife had a dependable income, his days off became increasingly frequent. Before long the family depended as much upon the mother’s earnings as they had upon the father’s. The children continued to spend their days under their aunt’s care. It is now eleven years since the mother took her “temporary” job. Her husband has become steadily lazier and her children respond less warmly to her than to her sister. She has been trapped into a lifetime of unrewarding drudgery.

The emotional harm that working mothers may do to themselves is often overlooked. One group of researchers interviewed young mothers and found that 64 per cent cited neglect of their home, their family and their housework as the main disadvantages of working. It would be an odd mother who did not feel concern when she went to a place of business leaving her sick child behind to be cared for by someone else. Few mothers can remain totally serene as they give their young sons latchkeys so that they can let themselves into the home after school to spend several hours without adult supervision. Indeed, one psychologist has described the typical working mother as a person subject to opposing pressures-the pressure to concentrate all her energies and efforts on succeeding at her outside job, and the pressure of being a good wife and mother. When she devotes herself to business, she cannot help but be aware that she takes time and energy away from the service she owes her husband and her children. Few mothers can avoid the nagging, emotionally harmful sense of guilt that results.

In order to compensate for this time spent away from home, some seem determined not to let their home and family suffer. After working outside all day, they plunge into frantic housework, preparing meals, scrubbing floors, mending clothes-tasks which stay-at-home mothers perform during the day. By trying to fill two jobs, they often become so tense that they cannot relax and enjoy their family’s company. They become martyrs to their dual obligations-and their conduct hardly presents to the child an appealing picture of the burden of motherhood. It is likely that more than one spinster is unmarried today because she was determined not to duplicate the life endured by her mother who worked outside the home by day and inside it far into the night.

Does it really pay mothers to work? Many economists have pointed out that the actual financial gain achieved by the average working mother may be considerably less than she imagines. Many go further and state that she often is not substantially better off financially than if she remained at home.

Economists of the Department of Agriculture recently interviewed 365 wives with jobs outside their homes. This survey established that for every dollar a working wife earns, only sixty cents is actually added to the family’s income. The average wife earned $2,200 a year. But she paid almost one third of that sum—$614—for transportation, lunches and other items. In addition, she had to pay $184 for laundry, child care, etc. She also paid $105 for clothing and personal grooming which she probably would not have needed had she remained at home. Instead of $2,200, therefore, she actually had only $1,297 to show for her year’s work-before taxes!

Other economists have found that a working mother’s expen ses may be much greater even than this survey shows. For instance, taxes must be deducted from her salary and the government usually takes a greater percentage from her than from her husband, because the tax rate increases as family income increases. A typical working woman no longer has time to prepare low-cost meals or to shop for food bargains. As a result, her family eats more prepared foods-canned or frozen foods or restaurant meals-which are naturally more expensive. Out of her earnings, she often must pay someone to care for her children, and medical bills tend to shoot up sharply. Unable to care for her children personally and often distrustful of the person she hired to do so, she seeks a doctor’s advice more often than would normally be the case. There are also extra expenditures for cleaning help, laundry, and possibly for the sheer luxuries she feels entitled to because she is doing two jobs. When these factors are considered, it can be seen that the working mother often merely changes jobs and does not receive any substantial financial gain from doing so.

Alternatives to work outside the home . Deploring the fact that more and more women seek work satisfactions outside their family circle will not reverse this trend, of course. Women must come to realize anew that their greatest contribution to God and society, and their greatest personal accomplishment, can come only when they bring new lives into existence and teach these beings to walk a path to earthly and eternal happiness. Frank Gavitt, one of the country’s outstanding public relations executives, has recommended that universities award honourary degrees to outstanding mothers as they do to distinguished political, business and professional leaders. His suggestion would help to confer on motherhood the dignity and prestige it apparently needs before modern women will give it their total commitment.

It is ironic that a major trend of recent years has been that of “doing it yourself.” It seems that men obtain so few satisfactions from their work that they develop projects at home to give their creative energies an outlet. But while fathers return to the home, mothers are neglecting the creative aspects of home-making. Many of us can remember mothers or grandmothers who baked bread and cake, canned fruits and vegetables, and made their own clothing. The work not only saved money but gave a feeling of worthwhile accomplishment. If today’s mothers used fewer of the costly products that take much of the creative joy out of homemaking, they might contribute almost as much to their families economically as they do by taking outside jobs.

What about mothers who must work because of real financial need? They should try to obtain employment which will enable them to be near their young children when they are needed most-during the daytime. There are more of such jobs than one might imagine. One mother obtained a position soliciting magazine subscriptions; she wheels her infant in a carriage from door to door, meeting his needs whenever they arise. Another woman runs a “day nursery,” caring for the children of neighbourhood mothers who wish to shop in freedom. A mother of three small children earns the family income as a typist, working at home for local businessmen while her children play under her supervision. Books listing hundreds of jobs which mothers can profitably perform in or near their homes are available at most public libraries.

Mothers of school-age youngsters can find many opportunities for part-time employment. A typical job is that of sales clerk. Most shoppers are women with children, and they visit the stores while their own young ones attend school. Many stores therefore require special help to handle the extra crowds from 10 A.M. to 3 P.M. Women who work during those hours can see their children off to school and can return home when they do.

The problem of “moonlighters.” Some of the reasons which prompt mothers to take outside employment also are responsible for the growing number of “moonlighters”-men who hold jobs at night as well as in the daytime. According to the Census Bureau, one male employee in twenty holds a second job.

Like the working mother, the father who holds two jobs can harm the family unit, his mate, his children, and himself. The family suffers because in effect it lacks his leadership. The man away from home sixteen hours a day, who returns only to sleep and to eat a quick meal or two, hardly gives the personal example which his children need to learn to be adults. When mother and children do not see the father except when he is asleep, they cannot be said to have a real family at all.

The wife suffers, because she is denied her husband’s companionship. As is pointed out in detail in “The Catholic Marriage Manual,” mothers are justifiably tired of childish company after a long day spent exclusively with their little ones. They have a right to expect the attention, companionship and affection of their mates for at least a few hours of the twenty-four-hour period. The man who is busy earning money may love his wife and may want to make life easier for her. But a willingness to spend his free hours with her, even at the expense of material comforts, would be a greater indication of his affection-and would do far more for her.

The “moonlighter’s” children suffer because they los e the opportunity of knowing their father at leisure. It is usually only after his day’s work is done and the evening is at hand that he can talk to his children-recount his own experiences, prepare them for their future, and instill standards of conduct that will guide them throughout their lives. It is the father who gives his son his ideals and ideas of manhood and who teaches his daughter by example what to expect in her own husband when she marries. By his absence for prolonged periods, therefore, the”moonlighter” may be denying his children direction and example as much as does the father who does not live at home.

Nor should we overlook the fact that the man who holds two jobs for long periods may cause intense physical harm to himself. When he must bolt his meals to get from one job to another, when he works such long hours that he cannot get adequate sleep, when his schedule denies him any opportunity for recreation, he increases his nervous tension and susceptibility to the many diseases, such as heart trouble, high blood pressure and ulcers, which result at least partially from an inability to develop relaxed habits of living. The man who “moonlights” over a long period of time certainly will find that some, if not much, of his increased earnings must be used to pay doctors’ bills.

We Americans make a fetish of our high standard of living. Advertisers and others bombard us with the concept that we can achieve happiness only if we have a better house, richer food, thicker rugs, more powerful cars than those commonly possessed even ten years ago. Acceptance of this false set of values is generally what prompts the mother to work and the father to “moonlight.” They overlook the basic fact that a family’s essentials for life-food, shelter, clothing-cangenerally be obtained on the father’s salary. When misguided ambition makes it necessary for the mother to work or the father to take a second job, the family achieves not true happiness but only a few materialistic substitutes for it.

NIHIL OBSTAT

John A. Goodwine, J.C.D., Censor Librorum

IMPRIMATUR

Francis Cardinal Spellman, Archbishop of New York

The nihil obstat and imprimatur are official declarations that a book or pamphlet is free of doctrinal or moral error. No implication is contained therein that those who have granted the nihil obstat and imprimatur agree with the contents, opinions or statements expressed. August 22, 1959

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SIGNIFICANT DATES IN CHURCH HISTORY

FIRST CENTURY

30-Descent of the Holy Spirit upon the Apostles, birthday of the Catholic Church. St. Peter preached to Jews at Jerusalem; 3,000 became converts.

33-St. Stephen, deacon, stoned to death at Jerusalem; first martyr of the Church.

35–67-St. Paul, formerly Saul, persecutor of Christians, converted and baptized, added to company of the Apostles. “The Apostle of the Gentiles” and New Testament author made missionary journeys to Cyprus, Asia Minor, Macedonia, Corinth, perhaps even to Spain. Beheaded at Rome, c.67.

39-Cornelius became the first Gentile convert; baptized by St. Peter.

42-Herod Agrippa persecuted Christians in the Holy Land. St. James the Greater beheaded, first Apostle to die; St. Peter imprisoned but miraculously released; many Christians fled to Antioch and elsewhere. At Antioch the followers of Christ were first called Christians.

42–67-St. Peter arrived at Rome, c.42, established his seethere; Rome thus became the seat of the papacy. “The Prince of the Apostles” left Rome for a time, did missionary work in the Holy Land, presided over the Council of Jerusalem; returned to Rome and was martyred there, c.67.

49-Christians at Rome, considered members of a Jewish sect, suffered because of the decree of Claudius which forbade Jewish worship there.

51-The Council of Jerusalem, in which the Apostles participated under the presidency of St. Peter, decreed that circumcision and the observance of various Mosaic prescriptions were not necessary for converts. The decree was issued to oppose the error of Judaizers who contended that observance of the Mosaic Law in its entirety was essential for salvation.

64-Nero set fire to Rome and accused the Christians therefor, thus beginning the era of great Roman persecutions. Sts. Peter and Paul were casualties of this persecution.

70-Titus destroyed Jerusalem.

88–97-Pontificate of St. Clement I, first of the Apostolic Fathers, third successor of St. Peter as pope. His letter to the Church at Corinth, concerning a schism there, gave clear evidence of the primacy of the See of Rome. 95-Domitian persecuted Christians, chiefly at Rome. c.100-St. John, last of the Apostles, died at Ephesus. With his death, the Deposit of Faith (revelation through the inspired works of the Old and New Testaments and Tradition) was complete.

SECOND CENTURY c.107-St. Ignatius of Antioch martyred at Rome. First to use in his writings the expression, “The Catholic Church.” 112-Rescriptto Pliny. “The emperor Trajan instructed Pliny, governor of Bithynia, not to search for Christians but to punish them if they were publicly denounced and refused to adore the gods. The rescript set a pattern for Roman magistrates.

117–138-Persecution under Hadrian. Many Acts of Martyrs date from this period. c125-Spread of Gnosticism. c.155-St. Polycarp martyred; Bishop of Smyrna and disciple of St. John the Evangelist. c156.-Beginning of Montanism.

161–180-Reign of Marcus Aurelius. His persecution more violent than those of his predecessors. 165-St. Justin martyred at Rome; leading apologist. c.180-St. Irenaeus, Bishop of Lyons, “Father of Catholic Theology,” wrote “Adversus Haereses”; stated that the teaching and tradition of the Roman See is the standard for belief.

196-Easter Controversy.

The Didache was written in the second century; important record of Christian belief, practice and government in first century.

Latin was introduced in the West as a liturgical language.

The Catechetical School of Alexandria increased in importance.

THIRD CENTURY

202-Persecution under Septimus Severus, who wanted to establish one common religion in the Empire. 206-Tertullian, a convert since 107, joined the heretical Montanists; charged that Pope St. Callistus was too lenient in readmitting to the Church persons guilty of certain grave sins. Died in 230. Before joining Montanists, was the first great ecclesiastical writer in Latin.

215-Death of Clement of Alexandria; teacher of Origen and a founding father of the School of Alexandria. 217–235-St. Hippolytus, the first antipope; reconciled to Church while in prison during persecution in 235. St. Hippolytus, the first antipope; reconciled to Church while in prison during persecution in 235. -Origen established School of Caesarea after being deposed in 231 as head of the School of Alexandria. Died in 254; Voluminous writer and scholar, one of the founders of systematic theology; exerted wide influence for many years. c242-The beginning of Manicheism in Babylonia, Persia.

249–251-Persecution under Decius. Many of those who denied their Faith (Lapsi) sought readmission to the Church at the end of the persecution In 251. Pope St. Cornelius had correspondence with St. Cyprian on the subject: Lapsi were to be readmitted after suitable penance. The letters gave evidence of the primacy of Rome. 250–300-Neo-Platonism of Plotinus and Porphyry gained followers.

251-Pope St. Stephen upheld the validity of baptism administered by heretics. Controversy on this subject was a disciplinary matter, and involved St. Cyprian.

257-Persecution under Valerian, who attempted to destroy the Church as a social structure. St. Cyprian martyred 258. c.260-St. Lucian founded the exegetical School of Antioch. c.260-Dionysius condemned the teachings of Sebellius and the Marcionites. c.260-St. Paul of Thebes became first Christian hermit.

261-Gallienus issued an edict of toleration which ended general persecution for nearly 40 years. c266-Sabellianism condemned and Paul of Samosata deposed.

292-Diocletian divided the Roman Empire into East and West. The division emphasized political, cultural and other differences between the two parts of the Empire. Prestige of Rome began to decline.

FOURTH CENTURY c.303-The Council of Elvira in Spain legislated regarding clerical celibacy; declared the indissolubility of marriage. 303-Persecution under Diocletian, at the urging of Galerius; ended in West in 306, continued for 10 years in East; particularly violent in 304.

305-St. Anthony of Heracles established an eremetical foundation near the Red Sea, in Egypt. 310-St. Hilarion made a similar establishment in Palestine.

311-An edict of toleration issued by Galerius at the urging of Constantine and Licinius officially ended persecution; some persecution continued in the East.

313-The Edict of Milan issued by Constantine and Licinius recognized Christianity as a lawful religion and the legal freedom of all religions; provided that the Church was to be compensated for losses sustained in the persecutions. 314-The Council of Aries condemned Donatism in Africa, declared that baptism by heretics is valid. 318-St. Pachomius established the first foundation of the cenobitic (common) life, as compared with the solitary life of hermits in Upper Egypt

325-The First General (Ecumenical) Council at Nicaea condemned Arianism and formulated the Nicene Creed. 337-Baptism and death of Constantine. c.342-Beginning of 40 years persecution in Persia.

343–4-Council of Sardica reaffirmed the Nicene Creed, declared that bishops had the right of appeal to Rome as the highest authority in the Church.

361.3-Julian the Apostate tried to restore paganism as the state religion campaigned against the Church by persecution, legal and other measures. c.365-Persecution under Valens in the East.

374-At the Council of Rome, Pope St. Damasus published the list (Canon) of the inspired works of the Old and New Testaments. e.376-Beginning of barbarian invasions in the West.

379-Death of St. Basil, the “Father of Monasticism” in the East. His writings contributed greatly to the development of rules for the religious life.

381-The Second General (Ecumenical) Council of Constantinople condemned Arians, Semi-Arians and Macedonians; reaffirmed the Nicene Creed.

382-c.406.-St. Jerome translated the Old and New Testaments into Latin; his work is called the Vulgate version of the Scriptures.

396-St. Augustine became Bishop of Hippo in Africa.

397-Council of Carthage.

397-Death of St. Ambrose.

FIFTH CENTURY

410-Visigoths sacked Rome.

411-Donatism was condemned, again, by a council at Carthage.

415-St. Augustine refuted the Pelagians, who discounted and denied the necessity of grace for salvation. 430-St. Augustine died.

431-The Third General (Ecumenical) Council of Ephesus condemned Nestorius, who denied that Mary was the Mother of the Second Person of the Blessed Trinity made Man; issued a final condemnation of Pelagianism. 432-St. Patrick arrived in Ireland. By the time of his death in 461 most of the country had been converted, monasteries founded and the hierarchy established.

438-The Theodosian Code, a compilation of decrees for the Empire, was issued by the emperor. It had great influence on subsequent civil and ecclesiastical law.

444-St. Cyril of Alexandria died.

449-The “Robber” Council of Ephesus, which had no ecclesiastical authority, declared itself in favour of the heretical teachings of Eutyches; he contended that Christ had only one nature.

451-The Fourth General (Ecumenical) Council of Chalcedon condemned Monophysitism (Eutychianism)-i.e. the error stated in the previous paragraph. Pope St. Leo I, the Great refused to approve Canon 28 issued by the Council; this canon falsely asserted that the primacy of Rome was based on political position.

452-Pope St. Leo the Great persuaded Attila the Hun to spare Rome.

455-Vandals sacked Rome. The decline of Imperial Rome, already underway, dates approximately from this time. 494-Pope St. Gelasius I declared in a letter to Emperor Anastasius that the pope had power and authority over the emperor in spiritual matters. The letter is an important document regarding the concept of papal authority. 496-Clovis, King of the Franks, was converted, and became the defender of Christianity in the West. The Franks became a Catholic people.

SIXTH CENTURY

520 and later-Irish monasticism flourished; monasteries were training places for missionaries, and centres of study where scholars were developed and manuscripts of importance preserved and copied for posterity. 529-The Second Council at Orange condemned Semi-Pelagianism. St. Benedict founded the Monastery of Monte Cassino. A few years before his death in 543 he wrote the monastic rule which exercised tremendous influence on the future of the religious life.He is the “Father of Monasticism” in the West.

533-John II became the first pope to change his name. The practice of changing the name, however, did not become general until the time of Sergius IV (1009).

533–534-Emperor Justinian promulgated the “Corpus Juris Civilis” for the Roman world; it influenced subsequent civil and ecclesiastical law. e.545.-Dionysius Exiguus died; he introduced the division of history into periods before and after Christ-B.C., A.D. His calculations were at least four years in error (late) A.D. His calculations were at least four years in error (late)

The Fifth General (Ecumenical) Council (Constantinople II) condemned the “Three Chapters,” writings of Theodore of Mopsuestia, Theodoret of Cyprus and Ibas of Edessa, which contained Nestorian errors. 585-St. Columban founded the influential monastic school at Luxueil. He died in 615.

589-The Council of Toledo was held in Spain. The Visigoths renounced Arianism, and St. Leander successfully began the organization of the Church in Spain.

590–604-Pontificate of Pope St. Gregory I, the Great. He initiated liturgical and disciplinary reforms, enforced clerical celibacy, upheld the prerogatives of the Holy See. Gregorian Chant is named in his Honour. 596-Pope St. Gregory I, the Great sent St. Augustine of Canterbury and 40 monks as missionaries to England. 597-St. Columba died. He founded the important monastery at Iona, established schools, and did notable missionary work in Scotland. By the end of the century, monasteries of nuns were common; Western monasticism was flourishing, monasticism in the East, under the influence of Monophysitism and other evils, was losing its vigour.

SEVENTH CENTURY

610–633-Mohammed, born c.570, claimed divine delegation to establish a religion for the Arabs. First taught openly in 613; was forced to flee from Mecca to Medina (Hegira) in 622; thereafter spread Mohammedanism by the sword; died in 632. By the end of the century Mohammedanism claimed almost the entire southern Mediterranean area. The sacred book is the Koran, substantially the work of Mohammed; 622 is the Year 1 of the Mohammedan era. 613-St. Columban established the influential Monastery of Bobbio in Northern Italy.

629-Emperor Heraclius recovered the True Cross from the Persians.

636-St. Isidore of Seville, “the most learned man of his day” died.

649-A Lateran Council condemned two erroneous formulas (“Ecthesis” and “Type”) issued by emperors Heraclius and Constans II as means of reconciling Monophysites with the Church.

664-Actions of the Synod of Whitby advanced the adoption of Roman usages in England, especially regarding the date for the observance of Easter.

680–681-The Sixth General (Ecumenical) Council, Constantinople III, condemned the error of the Monothelites, who contended that there was only one will, the divine, in Christ. The Council declared that Christ had a human will and a divine will. During the century, the monastic influence of Ireland and England in-creased in Western Europe; schools and learning in general declined; regulations regarding clerical celibacy became more strict in the East.

EIGHTH CENTURY

711-The Moslems began their conquest of Spain.

723-St. Winifrid, “Apostle of Germany,” became Bishop Boniface.

726-Eastern Emperor Leo III, the Isaurian, is sued an edict which declared that the veneration of images, pictures and relics was idolatrous, and ordered their removal from churches. This was the error of Iconoclasm, or imagebreaking.

727-A synod at Rome declared that the veneration of images was in accordance with Catholic tradition. Pope Gregory III condemned Iconoclasm in 731.

731-Venerable Bede issued his “Ecclesiastical History of the English People.”

732-Charles Martel defeated the Turks at Poitiers, thus halting any farther advance by them in the West. 744-The Monastery of Fulda was established by St. Sturm, a disciple of St. Boniface. c750-St. John Damascene, last of the Greek Fathers of the Church, died.

754-A council of bishops at Hieria endorsed Iconoclast errors. This council and its actions were condemned by the Lateran Synod of 769.

754-Pope Stephen III crowned Pepin ruler of the Franks. Pepin twice invaded Italy, in 754 and 756, to defend the Pope against the Lombards. His land grants to the papacy, called the Donation of Pepin, were later extended by Charlemagne (773) and formed part of the States of the Church. c755-St. Boniface (originally Winfrid)was martyred. Called the “Apostle of Germany” for his missionary work and organization of the hierarchy there.

781-Alcuin was chosen by Charlemagne to organize the Palace School, which became a centre of intellectual leadership.

787-The Seventh General (Ecumenical) Council (Nicaea II), condemned Iconoclasm and Adoptionism. Adoptionists contended that Christ was not the Son of God by nature but by adoption; the error was condemned by Pope Adrian I in 785 and 794, and by several councils.

792-A council at Ratisbon condemned Adoptionisin. The famous Book of Kells, “The Great Gospel of Columcille,” dates from the early eighth or late seventh century.

NINTH CENTURY

800-Charlemagne was crowned Emperor by Pope Leo III on Christmas Day.

800-Egbert became King of West Sazona unified England, strengthened See of Canterbury.

813-Emperor Leo V, the Armenian, revived the Iconoclast heresy and persecuted Catholics holding to the true belief Emperor Leo V, the Armenian, revived the Iconoclast heresy and persecuted Catholics holding to the true belief 829), continued Leo’s policies.

814-Charlemagne died.

842-A Synod at Constantinople countered Iconoclasm by asserting decrees of the Seventh Ecumenical Council (787).

843-The Treaty of Verdun split the Frankish kingdom among Charlemagne’s three grandsons.

844-A Eucharistic controversy involving the works of Paschasius Radbertus. Ratramnus and Rabanus Maurus helped to formulate theological terminology regarding the doctrine of the Real Presence.

846-The Moslems invaded Italy, attacked Rome.

848-The Council of Mains condemned Gottschalk for heretical teaching regarding predestination. He was also condemned by the Council of Quierzy in 853.

857-Photius was illegally appointed Patriarch of Constantinople after the deposition of Ignatius, the legitimate incumbent. Thus began the Photian Schism, which was condemned by the Roman Synod of 863 and the Eighth General (Ecumenical) Council in 869.

865-St. Ansgar, “Apostle of Scandinavia,” died.

868-Sts. Cyril (d.869) and Methodius (d.885) were consecrated bishops. The “Apostles of the Slays” devised the Slavonlc alphabet and translated the Gospels and liturgy.

869-The Eighth General (Ecumenical) Council (Constantinople IV), condemned Iconoclasm. deposed Photius and restored Ignatius to the Patriarchate of Constantinople. restored Ignatius to the Patriarchate of Constantinople.

-Reign of Alfred the Great the only English king ever anointed by the pope at Rome.

TENTH CENTURY

910-William, Duke of Aquitaine, founded the Benediction Abbey of Cluny, which became a centre of monastic and ecclesiastical reform.

911-Catholicism began in Normandy, following the baptism of the Norman leader Rollo.

915-Pope John X led the expulsion of Moslems from northern Italy.

955-St. Olga, of the Russian royal family, was baptized.

962-Otto I, the Great, crowned by Pope John XII, revived Charlemagne’s kingdom, which became the Holy Roman Empire. The sovereignty of Germany and Italy was thus vested in a German prince.

966-Mieszko, first of a royal line in Poland, was baptized; he brought Latin Christianity to Poland. 989-Vladimir, ruler of Russia, was baptized; Russia was subsequently Christianized by Greek missionaries. 993-John XV was the first pope to decree the official canonization of a saint (Urlich) for the universal Church. (From the very beginning, the Church venerated saints; public official honour always required the recognition of heroic sanctity or martyrdom, and the approval of the bishop of the place.)

997-St. Stephen became ruler of Hungary. He assisted in organizing the hierarchy and establishing Latin Christianity.

999–1003-Pontificate of Sylvester II (Gerbert of Aquitaine), a Benedictine monk and the first French pope.

ELEVENTH CENTURY

1012-St. Romuald founded the Camaldolese Hermits.

1025-The Council or Arras, and other councils, later, condemned the Catharists (Neo-Manicheans, Albigenses). 1027-The Council of Elne proclaimed the Truce of Gad as a means of stemming violence. The Truce involved armistice periods, which were later extended.

1038-St. John Gaulbert founded the Vallombrosians.

1047-Pope Clement II died; the only pope ever buried in Germany.

1049–54-Pontificate of St. Leo IX, who inaugurated a reform movement of wide and lasting influence. His, and later, reforms of the period centred around papal elections, clerical celibacy, control of ecclesiastical offices, and other matters.

1054-Michael Caerularius, Patriarch of Constantinople, quarreled with the pope, disputed usages of the Latin Church; refused to obey, and led most of the Eastern churches (called (Orthodox) into schism.

1059-The Lateran Council issued new legislation regarding papal elections. The voting power was entrusted to the Roman cardinals.

1066-William the Conqueror invaded England; later he opposed the independence of the Church in England from secular control.

1066-St. Edward the Confessor died; established Westminster Abbey.

1073–85-Pontificate of St. Gregory VII (Hildebrand, experienced advisor of several popes). He continued programmes of reform and took measures against lay investiture. He opposed Henry IV and even absolved Henry’s subjects from allegiance to him; this was the first case of the deposition of an emperor by a pope. 1077-Lay investiture and pope-emperor relations reached a climax when Henry IV (1056–1105) submitted to Gregory VII at Canossa. Henry later repudiated this action and finally abdicated.

1079-The Council of Rome condemned Eucharistic errors of Berengarius who retracted.

1084-St. Bruno founded the Carthusians.

1095–99-The Council of Clermont inaugurated the First Crusade The Crusaders took Jerusalem in 1099. 1093-St. Robert founded the Cistercians.

TWELFTH CENTURY

1103-Beginnings of the influential abbey and school of St. Victor.

1111-As a solution to the problem of investiture of prelates, Pope Paschal II proposed that prelates should surrender feudal lord rights and that the emperor should give up rights to investiture.

1115-St. Bernard established the Abbey of Clairvaux and inaugurated the Cistercian reform.

1115-St. Anselm died; important figure in the development of Scholastic philosophy and theology. 1118-Christian forces captured Saragossa in Spain; Moslem power began to decline in that country. c.1120-Pope Callistus II issued the Bull “Sicut Judaeis”; in defence of the rights of Jews. The measure was republished by four other popes during the century.

1120-Beginnings of the Norbertines or Premonstratensians; the first order was for men, the second for women, the third for lay persons.

The Norbertine Third Order was the first in the history of the Church.

1122-The Concordat of Worms (Pactum Callixtinum) contained these provisions regarding the investiture of prelates: the emperor could invest prelates with the symbol of temporal authority but had no right to invest them with symbols of spiritual authority (since ecclesiastical jurisdiction was from the Church alone); the emperor was not to interfere in papal elections. This was the first concordat in history.

1123-The Ninth General (Ecumenical) Council (Lateran I) at Rome endorsed provisions of the Concordat of Worms. This was the first General Council in the West.

1139-The Tenth General (Ecumenical) Council (Lateran II) at Rome adopted measures against the schism organized by anti-pope Anacletus, against the followers of Arnold of Brescia and Peter Brays, and issued disciplinary decrees. 1140-St. Bernard met Abelard in debate at the Council of Sens. Abelard was first condemned in 1121 for rationalistic tendencies. He died in 1142 at the Abbey of Cluny where he had retired alter being ordered by Innocent II to stop teaching.

1147-The Second Crusade, preached by St. Bernard, started for the Holy Land; ended unsuccessfully at Damascus. 1148-The Synod of Rheims enacted stricter disciplinary decrees for religious communities of women. 1152-The Synod of Kells reorganized the Church in Ireland.

1153-St. Bernard died; outstanding figure of the century, founder of mediaeval mysticism.

1154–55-A community of monks founded by St. Merthold marked the beginning of the Carmelite Order. 1160-Gratian died; compiled a Decretum which became a basic text of Canon Law. c.1160-Peter Lombard died; compiled the “Four Books of Sentences,” a standard text until the time of St. Thomas Aquinas.

1170-St. Thomas a”Becket, Archbishop of Canterbury, who had clashed with Henry II regarding clerical immunities, was murdered in his cathedral.

1171-Pope Alexander III reserved the process of canonization to the Holy See.

1179-The Eleventh General (Ecumenical) Council (Lateran III) at Rome enacted measures against the Waldenses and Albigensians; provided that popes should be elected by a two-third vote of cardinals present. 1184-The Waldenses, and others, were excommunicated as heretics by Pope Lucius III.

1192-The Third Crusade ended in a truce; Moslems held Jerusalem but granted permission for Christian pilgrims to visit the Holy Sepulchre and other Holy Places.

THIRTEENTH CENTURY

1204-Fourth Crusaders sacked Jerusalem; Latin Empire of East begun; leaders of the Crusade excommunicated by Pope Innocent III.

1205–13-Papal struggle with John of England over the election of the Archbishop of Canterbury; England under Interdict for five years.

1208-Innocent III called for a crusade against the Albigensians. This was the first crusade in a Christian country. 1209-Verbal approval given by Innocent III for foundation of the Order of Friars Minor (Franciscans) by St. Francis of Assisi.

1213-Poor Clares founded

1212-Children’s Crusade a complete failure.

1215-The Twelfth General (Ecumenical) Council (Lateran IV) at Rome enacted 70 reform decrees, ordered annual confession to the parish priest and Easter Communion, issued a creed against the Albigensians, made first official use of the term “transubstantiation.”

1216-Death of Pope Innocent III, who raised the papacy to a new height of prestige.

1216-St. Dominic received formal papal approval for his new Order of Preachers (Dominicans). The famous Portiuncula Indulgence was granted by the Holy See at the request of St. Francis of Assisi.

1221-Death of St. Dominic.

1221-Founding of Third Order of St. Francis, for lay people in the world.

1226-Death of St. Francis of Assisi, popularizer of the Christmas Crib custom (1223); received the Stigmata in 1224. 1227-Death of Pope Honorius III, who had exerted great influence in moral reform and education. 1228.29-Peaceful negotiations during the Fifth Crusade secured possession of Bethlehem and Jerusalem. 1231-Death of St. Anthony of Padua, famous Franciscan preacher and miracle-worker.

1233-Papal Inquisition instituted to oppose heresy.

1244-Turks recaptured Jerusalem.

1245-The Thirteenth General (Ecumenical) Council (Lyons I) considered measures against Frederick II. 1247-Carmelite Order received preliminary approval.

1248.54-Sixth Crusade, a failure.

1250-Death of Frederick II, who had been hostile to the Holy See for many years.

1253-Death of St. Clare of Assisi.

1261-End of the Latin Empire in the East.

1264-St. Thomas Aquinas composed the Mass and Office for the new feast of Corpus Christi. 1270-Death of St. Louis IX, King of France; France at this time was the strongest nation in Europe. 1270-Beginning of papal decline.

1274-Fourteenth General (Ecumenical) Council (Lyons II) effected temporary reunion with the Eastern Church. 1274-Died: St. Thomas Aquinas, Doctor of the Church; author of the “Summa Theologica”; St. Bonaventure, Doctor of the Church, Franciscan theologian and author.

1280-Pope Nicholas III died; made the Breviary official for the Roman Church; it had been edited and published in a single book by Innocent III.

1281-The excommunication of the Greek Emperor by Pope Martin IV ruptured the union effected with the Eastern Church in 1274.

1296-Pope Boniface VIII issued the Bull “Cleris Laicos” which forbade the clergy to submit to lay taxation.

FOURTEENTH CENTURY

1300-Jubilee observed at Rome; attended by thousands from all over Christendom.

1301-Pope Boniface VIII withdrew privileges of the French King, Philip the Fair, who had arrested a bishop and refused his appeal for trial at Rome.

1302-Boniface VIII issued “Unam Sanctam” which stressed the primacy of the spiritual over temporal power. 1309-Pope Clement V began the Babylonian Captivity of the papacy, establishing residence at Avignon; beginning of the line of French popes.

1311–12-Fifteenth General (Ecumenical) Council of Vienne condemned a number of errors, subpressed the Knights Templar, sought aid for the Holy Land.

1321-Dante died;completed his “Divine Comedy” the previous year.

1323-Beginning of the struggle between Pope John XXII and Louis of Bavaria, during which Louis was excommunicated and the pope called a heretic by Louis” followers.

1327- “Defensor Pacis” by Marsilius was condemned; it upheld the Conciliarist Theory, i.e., that a general council was superior to the pope, thereby threatening the primacy of the pope.

1328-After invading Italy and being accepted by the people as emperor, Louis deposed John XXII and set up an antipope. Nicholas V. the antipope, later sought reconciliation with the Holy See.

1337-Beginning of the Hundred Years” War.

1338-In the Declaration of Rense, the German electors stated that the pope had only the right to formal coronation of the emperor at Rome.

1348-The Black Death spread throughout Europe, taking a terrible toll of life; a shortage of priests was one of the effects.

1351–53-New laws in England were designed to limit papal powers there.

1356-The “Golden Bull” of Charles IV renewed the Declaration of Rense, eliminated papal rights in election of the emperor.

1364–65-Universities of Cracow and Vienna established.

1367-Pope Urban V, nearly 60 years after the residency of the papacy had begun at Avignon, went to Rome. 1370-Urban V returned to Avignon; Rome was in a state of anarchy.

1374-Petrarch died.

1377-Partly due to the influence of St. Catherine of Siena, Gregory XI ended the Avignon residency of the popes and moved to Rome. Italy was in a disturbed condition; Florence was placed under interdict.

1378-Wycliff denied the doctrine of transubstantiation.

1378-Beginning of the Western Schism.

1397-The Turks besieged Constantinople.

FIFTEENTH CENTURY

1409-The Council of Pisa, which had no authority for its action, chose a third claimant to the papacy after stating that Gregory XII and Benedict XIII were schismatics, thus complicating the Western Schism. The seeds of the Conciliar Movement began to develop from such action on the part of the cardinals.

1414–18-The Sixteenth General (Ecumenical) Council of Constance marked the end of the Western Schism, condemned Wycliff and Hus, issued decrees for ecclesiastical reform. Martin V began an era of concordats made necessary by the rise of nationalism, which opposed the supernational character and mission of the Church. Agreements with states were necessary to safeguard the Church’s rights and those of the faithful. 1431-St. Joan of Arc was burned at the stake.

1431-The Council of Basle was called. The supreme power of the pope, which had previously been questioned by such writers as Marsilius of Padua and William of Ockham, was challenged; such an attitude had grown as a result of the Great Schism. Extreme advocates of the Consular Theory argued that, when the need arose, a general council could depose the pope.

1438-The French National Council at Bourges issued the Pragmatic Sanctions which affirmed Gallican liberties and limited the rights and powers of the Holy See.

1438–43-The Seventeenth General (Ecumenical) Council of Florence reaffirmed the primacy of the pope, thus dealing a death blow to the Conciliar Movement; attempted to effect union with the Greeks and other Oriental sects, and to establish peace among Christian princes.

1453-Fall of Constantinople and the renewal of schism on the part of the Orthodox churches of the East. Henceforth the popes concentrated on stopping the Turkish menace from the East; their pleas for crusades by the West generally had disappointing results.

1456-First printed edition of the Bible by movable type.

1476-Permission was granted for establishment of the Inquisition in Spain. Sixtus IV proclaimed that the feast of the Immaculate Conception should be observed by the universal Church on December 8.

1492-Discovery of the New World by Christopher Columbus.

1493-Alexander VI issued a “Bull of Demarcation” which determined what might be called spheres of influence for the Spanish and Portuguese in the New World; it provided for the propagation of the Christian Faith in the newly discovered territories.

SIXTEENTH CENTURY

1512–17-The Eighteenth General (Ecumenical) Council (Lateran V) defined the relation of the pope to general councils, condemned errors regarding the nature of the human soul, called for a crusade against the Turks. 1517-Martin Luther posted his 95 Theses at Wittenberg; among other things they contained an attack on the doctrine of indulgences.

1520-Luther published his “Address of the Christian Nobility of the German Nation concerning the Reform of the Christian Estate.”

The papal Bull “Exsurge Domine” demanded his recantation. Luther burned the Bull publicly at Wittenberg in December; he was formally excommunicated the following month.

1524-Beginning of the Peasant Wars. Lutheranism became associated with strong German princes, from whom it gained political support.

1528-The Capuchin Order, a branch of the Franciscans, became leaders in the Counter-Reformation. 1529-The Catholic Church was abolished in Sweden.

1531-Protestant princes formed the Schmalkaldic League; soon all of Northern Germany was united in Lutheranism. 1531-Zwingli died; leader of Reformation in Switzerland.

1535-Henry VIII, excommunicated in 1533, proclaimed the Act of Supremacy and the Oath of Succession. St. John Fisher of Rochester and St. Thomas More refused to recognize the claims of Henry VIII and were martyred. The confiscation of monasteries in England followed.

1536-John Calvin published “Institutes of the Christian Religion,” and took up the work started by Zwingli in Switzerland.

1546-The constitutions of the Society of Jesus (Jesuits) were approved; St. Ignatius Loyola was their founder. 1541-Geneva became the Protestant Rome, the stronghold of Protestant thought.

1542-The Sacred Congregation of the Holy Office was established and became a leading agency in the CounterReformation.

1545–63-The Nineteenth General (Ecumenical) Council of Trent issued canons and decrees which stated Catholic belief on matters of faith and practice which were under attack by the “Reformers,” and mobilized the CounterReformation.

1546-Legal Measures in Denmark virtually crushed Catholicism there; Norway and Iceland were gradually forced to adopt Lutheranism.

1546-Martin Luther died.

1546-Martin Luther died.

First “Book of Common Prayer” published; substituted Communion Service in English for the Mass, included errors about the Holy Eucharist.

1552-St. Francis Xavier, Jesuit, died; one of the greatest missionaries in Church history.

1553–58-During her reign as Queen of England, Mary Tudor took counter-measures against the actions of Henry VIII.

1555-Provisions of the Treaty of Augsburg stated that rulers of the German states had the right to decide what religion should be professed in their territories.

1558-Matthew Parker was invalidly “consecrated” Archbishop of Canterbury; all Anglican orders thereafter were invalid.

1560-Legal measures in Scotland destroyed the Catholic Church there; John Knox was a leading organizer of the Presbyterian Church there.

1563-Adoption of the 39 Articles and re-passage of the Act of Supremacy and the Oath of Succession during the reign of Elizabeth; the Church of England came into full being as an heretical body.

1564-John Calvin died.

1567-The errors of Baius were condemned; his teaching would have compromised with Lutheranism on the nature of original sin, grace and freedom of will.

1570-Queen Elizabeth was excommunicated.

1571-Defeat of the Turkish Armada at Lepanto staved off invasion in Eastern Europe.

1571-The Sacred Congregation of the Index was established to combat anti-Catholic writings. 1572-St. Bartholomew’s Eve massacre of Huguenots in various places in France was a political manoeuvre of Catherine of Medici.

1579-The Union of Utrecht formed the alliance of the northern provinces of the Netherlands, which became the Dutch Republic, and made Protestantism the state religion.

1583-Death of St. Teresa of Avila.

1582-The Gregorian Calendar was put into effect and was eventually adopted by most countries of the world. 1587-St. Robert Bellarmine published “De Controversiis,” the greatest literary defence of the Faith issued during the Counter-Reformation period.

1593-Catholics were banished from England.

SEVENTEENTH CENTURY

1601-Matteo Ricci (d.1610), Jesuit missionary, settled at Peking, China.

1605-A few Catholic fanatics conspired in the Gunpowder Plot to blow up King James I of England and the houses of Parliament. The plot was discovered and the conspirators condemned to death. One of the results was the Oath of Allegiance, which was condemned by Pope Paul V in 1606.

1610-St. Francis de Sales and St. Jane de Chantal founded the first community of Visitation Nuns. 1611-Founding of the Oratorians by St. Philip Neri.

1613–42-The Galileo Controversy; Galileo died at peace with the Church.

1618–48-Thirty Years” War; ended by the Treaty of Westphalia, which confirmed the Peace of Augsburg, of 1555. 1625-Founding of the Congregation of the Mission (Vincentians) by St. Vincent de Paul. He founded the Sisters of Charity in 1633.

1642-Sulpicians founded by Jacques Olier.

1648-Bolland, a BelgianJesuit, began publication of the “Acta Sanctorum,” a critical work on lives of the saints; continued after his death by the Society of the Bollandists.

1649-Oliver Cromwell invaded Ireland and began a severe persecution of Catholics.

1653-Pope Innocent Xcondemned the errors of Jansen. Jansen’s “Augustinus,” published in 1640, imputed erroneous ideas on grace to St. Augustine.

1657-Blaise Pascal’s “Provincial Letters” in favour of Jansenism, were condemned.

1668-The “Clementine Peace” of Pope Clement IX quieted the Jansenist controversy for 30 years. 1673-The Test Act in England barred all Catholics from public office if they would not deny the doctrine of transubstantiation and receive Communion in the Anglican Church.

1678-The “Popish Plot” resulted in the deaths of many English Catholics; Titus Oates, a discredited Anglican minister, falsely claimed that Catholics planned to assassinate Charles I, land a French army, burn London, and place the government in the hands of the Jesuits.

1683-Bossuet drew upthe “Four Articles of 1682” which expressed fundamental ideas of Gallicanism: the pope had no authority over princes in temporal affairs, the power of the pope was limited by general councils, the power of the pope was limited by customs and practices of the Gallican Church, decisions of the pope were infallible only with consent of the Church. The tenets were condemned in 1690.

1687-Quietism of Molinos was condemned by Pope Innocent XI; Molinos died repentant in 1696. 1688-The Toleration Act granted a certain amount of freedom of worship to English dissenters, but intentionally excluded Catholics.

EIGHTEENTH CENTURY

1718-Pope Clement XI issued the Bull “unigenitus,” in which he condemned 101 Jansenistic propositions of Quesnel.

1713–74-Catholics in Canada. The Treaty of Utrecht, 1713, ceded Newfoundland, Acadia and the Hudson Bay Territory to Great Britain and guaranteed freedom of religion to the almost entirely Catholic populations. In 1752, 7,000 Acadians were driven from their homes. In 1774 the Quebec Act gave legal rights to the Church in Canada. 1724-Catholics persecuted in China.

1733-St. Alphonsus Liguori founded the Congregation of the Most Holy Redeemer (Redemptorists). 1738-Pope Clement XII condemned Freemasonry in the bull “In Eminenti” forbidding Catholics to join the Freemasons under pain of excommunication. The condemnation and prohibition were repeated by Benedict XIV in 1751, and by later popes.

1741-Papal approval was given to the Clerics Regular of the Holy Cross and Passion of Our Lord (Passionists); the founder was St. Paul of the Cross.

1743-Febronianism began in Germany with the publication of a book by John Nicholas von Hontheim, under the pseudonym Febronius, which was directed against papal authority. Febronianism was condemned in 1764, 1769 and 1775.

1759–73-Suppression of the Jesuits. They were expelled from Portugal in 1759, from France in 1764, from Spain in 1767; false accusations and political intrigue were principal factors in these developments. Clement XIV in 1773 issued a “Brief of Suppression” which contained no criticism of the Society nor of its members. The Society was restored in 1814.

1778-The Catholic Relief Act in England permitted Catholics to buy and inherit land, and abolished the penalty of life imprisonment for priests.

1780-The beginnings of Josephism in Austria; an attempt to make the Church in Austria almost independent of the pope.

1788-Proclamation of religious liberty in the United States.

1789–98-The Church in France. French Revolution, 1789; secularization of Church property and the Civil Constitution of the Clergy, 1790; persecution of priests, religious and laity who remained loyal to papal authority; Napoleon invaded the Papal States, 1796; persecution renewed from 1797–1799, and attempts were made to deChristianize France and establish a new religion; in 1798 French troops occupied Rome and carried the pope away to France; Pius VI died at Valence in 1799.

1794-Pope Pius VI condemned decrees of the Synod of Pistola, 1786, which favoured Jansenism and Gallicanism.

NINETEENTH CENTURY

1802-Concordat with France re-establishing and giving legal rights to the Church.

1808-Papal States incorporated in Napoleonic Empire.

1809–14-Exile and captivity of Pope Pius VII.

1814-Fall of Napoleon; return of Pius VII to Rome. Restoration of the Society of Jesus.

1817-Concordats signed with German states, granting limited freedom of action to the Church.

1822-Pontifical Society for the Propagation of the Faith established.

1829-Catholic Emancipation in Great Britain and Ireland.

1832-Pope Gregory XVI issued the encyclical “Mirari Vos,” condemning the movement known as Catholic liberalism.

1833–45-Development of the Oxford Movement which resulted in notable conversions in England, e.g. John Henry, later Cardinal, Newman in 1845.

1833-Founding of the Catholic University of Louvain.

1848-Flight of Pope Pius IX to Gaeta. Communist “Manifesto” issued.

1850-Catholic hierarchy re-established in England.

1852-Catholic universities founded at Dublin and Quebec (Laval).

1853-Hierarchy re-established in Holland.

1854-Proclamation of the dogma of the Immaculate Conception of the Blessed Virgin Mary.

1858-Apparitions of the Blessed Virgin to St. Bernadette at Lourdes.

1880-Piedmontese began to occupy Papal States.

1884-Pope Pius IX issued the “Syllabus” a systematic condemnation of modernistic errors.

1867-Publication of the first volume of “Das Kapital”; organization of the (Communist) First International.

1887-Expropriation of Papal States completed.

1888-Disestablishment of the Anglican Church in Ireland.

1870-The Twentieth General (Ecumenical) Council of the Vatican, opened the previous year, defined the dogma of the Infallibility of the Pope. Formation of the “Old Catholics” who opposed the dogma of infallibility.

1871-Establishment of the new German Empire and the beginning of the Kulturkampf, the persecution of Catholics in Germany. Development of anti-clericalism in France. Pope Pius IX made himself a virtual prisoner in the Vatican when recognition was not given temporal possessions and papal sovereignty in Italy.

1873-May Laws in Germany.

1878–1903-Pontificate of Pope Leo XIII; promoted a revival of Scholastic philosophy; indicated proper approach to Scriptural study. Perhaps his best known encyclical is “Rerum Novarum,” dealing with conditions of the working classes and opposed to deceptive Communistic and Socialistic developments.

1881-The first International Eucharistic Congress was held at Lille, France.

1889-Catholic University of America founded at Washington, D.C.

TWENTIETH CENTURY

1903–14—Pontificate of St. Pius X. He began the codification of Canon Law, 1904; removed the ban against participation by Catholics in Italian national elections, 1905; issued decrees calling upon the faithful to receive Holy Communion frequently and daily, and stating that children should receive First Communion at the age of seven, 1905 and 1910, respectively; ordered the establishment of the Confraternity of Christian Doctrine for religious instruction in all parishes throughout the world, 1905; condemned Modernism in the decree “Lamentabili” and encyclical “Pascendi” 1907.

1903-Expulsion of religious orders and congregations from France; confiscation of Church property, 1906. 1910-Laws of separation in Portugal. Breaking of diplomatic relations between Spain and the Holy See. 1914–18-World War I.

1914–23-Pontificate of Benedict XV, who was concerned with minimizing the material and spiritual havoc of World War I; in 1917 he offered to act as mediator between the belligerent nations, but his pleas for settlement of the conflict went unheeded. In 1919 he issued the decree “Maximum Illud,” in which he urged the recruiting and training of native clergy in missionary lands.

1917-Apparitions of the Blessed Virgin Mary at Fatima. Bolshevik Revolution in Russia, and the subsequent rise of Communism. New constitution in Mexico approved, giving the state control over religious worship; persecution under way.

1918-The new Code of Canon Law, promulgated in 1917, became effective.

1922–38-Pontificate of Pius XI. Concluded the Lateran Treaty, 1929, which settled the Roman Question and ended the voluntary imprisonment of popes in the Vatican since 1870; maintained the freedom and independence of Catholic Action in Italy, in the encyclical “Non Abbiamo Bisogno,” 1931; issued the encyclicals “Quadragesimo Anno,” developing the social teachings of Leo XIII in “Rerum Novarum,” and “Divini Redemptoris,” calling for social justice and condemning Communism, 1931 and 1937, respectively; condemned anti-Semitism, 1937.

1926-Catholic Relief Act in England removed legal disabilities of Catholics.

1931-Proclamation of the Spanish Republic and anti-Church measures by the government.

1938-Rise of Hitler in Germany and subsequent persecution which reached a peak in 1940.

1936–38-Persecution during the Spanish Civil War, in which some 30,000 priests and religious, and numerous lay persons, lost their lives.

1939–58-Pontificate of Pius XII.

1939–45-World War II.

1940–50-Decade of Communist conquest in 13 countries resulting in conditions of persecution for a minimum of 60 million Catholics-as well as members of other faiths.

1940-Mitigation of persecution in Mexico through non-enforcement of still existing laws.

1954-Canonization of St. Pius X.

1957-Attempt to begin national schismatic church in Red-controlled China.

1958–63-Pontificate of John XXIII.

1959–61-Fidel Castro’s overthrow of Batista government in Cuba and campaign against the Church. 1962-Opening on October 11 of the Second Vatican Council, the twenty-first such council in the history of the Church.

1963-Election and beginning of the reign of Paul VI, 26th June, 1963, second session of Vatican Council is held. Constitution of Liturgy drawn up.

Nihil Obstat:

BERNARD O”CONNOR, Censor Deputatus.

Imprimatur:

@ JUSTIN D. SIMONDS, Archiepiscopus Melburnensis.

23rd June, 1964. ********

Signposts To The Church

REV. FRANCIS J. RIPLEY

INDEX

GOD

1. GOD EXISTS

2. WE MUST WORSHIP GOD

3. IN THE WAY HE TEACHES US

CHRIST

1. CHRIST IS GOD

Proved from

(a) The Gospels (b) His Miracles (c) Prophecy (d) His Character (e) His Claims (f) The Resurrection 2. CHRIST’S WAY IS GOD’S WAY

3. WE MUST ACCEPT ALL CHRIST’S TEACHING

THE CATHOLIC CHURCH

1. CHRIST ORGANIZED A CHURCH

2. ONLY THE CATHOLIC CHURCH IS CHRIST’S CHURCH (a) It is the Scriptural Church

(b) It is Apostolic, One, Universal, Holy

(c) Its Head is the Successor of the Head Christ Appointed

3. THE CATHOLIC CHURCH MUST BE ACCEPTED

I would like to explain as simply as I can the main arguments for the truth of the Catholic Church. You may not be a scholar and perhaps you do not understand some of the words usually found in books on religion. I will do my best to help you.

Suppose we group everything round three big facts. The first is GOD, the second is Jesus CHRIST, and the third is the CHURCH.

GOD

The first big fact-God. I think you already believe that there is a God, but to help you I will explain as simply as I can why that must be so. A story might help you.

1. GOD EXISTS

About 300 years ago there lived a famous scientist called Kircher. He made a splendid model of what he knew of the Universe. When a button was pressed, the stars, the moon and the planets began to move around the globe. He kept this in his study. One day a young man came in who was proud of being an atheist. Kircher knew this and was determined to teach him a lesson. He had not long to wait for his opportunity. The young man pointed to the model of the globe and asked,’Who made that?’ Quite solemnly, Kircher replied ‘Nobody, of course, it just happened.’ The young man looked puzzled.’Nobody?’ he said, almost without thinking.’Yes, nobody,’ replied Kircher. Then the young man said,’But somebody must have made it; it could not have made itself.’ ‘Well spoken,’ said Kircher; ‘in those words you have condemned yourself. You boast of your atheism. You say that this little model must have had a designer and yet you deny that the Universe itself, which is millions of times more complicated, came into existence without a designer. I hope you see now how silly you are.’

That is a perfectly valid argument, isn ‘t it? You can apply it to anything you like. Think of matter itself. Nuclear physics revolves round the fact that matter is highly designed, made up of molecules, atoms, protons, electrons and things. There must have been a designer. To say it all just happened is nonsense.

Here is a question for you. Can you think of anything at all which did not at some time or other come from something else? I am sure the answer is’No, nothing except God.’ All men, all animals, all plants and everything we come across during life come from something else. Some scientists think everything evolved but there must have been something in the beginning which developed into all the things we have today. If ever there was nothing there is still nothing, because nothing cannot by itself become something. You and I know that all the things that exist receive their existence from something else. You cannot go back for ever without finding a starting point somewhere. All the things we know of, which receive their existence, exist only because something gives existence in the first place.

Try an experiment for yourself, a very simple one. At breakfast tomorrow morning, when you want a cup of coffee, put your cup on the table in the saucer. Do nothing else. You certainly will not get any coffee. Now take an empty jug and pour the contents into your empty cup. You are still waiting for your coffee. Now take that empty jug and fill it from an empty coffee urn. Still no coffee. You can go on doing that until the Thames runs dry and you just will not get any coffee until somebody puts some in the urn. Instead of coffee, think of the existence of everything-nothing can have it unless something gives in the first place. That giver of existence is Being itself. It is God. He is the completely independent being on whom everybody and everything else depends.

What do we know about God? When we come to think about our second big fact, Jesus Christ, we shall discover quite a lot about Him. For the moment let us just use our reason. By your experiment with the coffee you have proved that God is independent. That means that nothing limits Him. Therefore He has no body. You know how your body limits you; it keeps you where you are. You have to stay where there are air and drink and food. A being without a body is a spirit. So God is a spirit.

When we were talking about Kircher and his model, we found out that God had designed the Universe and all matter. He is intelligent. Because He has no limits there are no bounds to His intelligence. When anything has no limits we say it is infinite. You can say this about God in every way. Think of any quality that you like to see in human beings, such as love, goodness, mercy, power, justice, truth, wisdom and the rest. God does not only possess all of these, He is all of them; they are His very being. For example, His power has no limits. Another word for power is might, so we speak of God as being All-mighty, almighty. That is the first point we must make about our first fact: God exists.

2. WE MUST WORSHIP GOD

The second point is that we must show by our conduct that we depend entirely on God. In other words, we must worship Him. We belong to Him, just as much as the sand-castle you made on the beach when you were little belonged to you. The difference between you and your sand-castle is that you can speak to the God who made you. You can tell Him how wonderful He is. You can tell Him you are sorry if you do things against His wishes. You can ask Him for what you need. Doing these things is religion. You can see that it is a duty. Here is a story to make that clear.

Two men went aboard a liner in London docks to emigrate to Australia. They shared a cabin. As the liner was sailing down the Thames estuary, one of the men had a stroke and became quite helpless. The other man looked after him for the rest of the voyage. When they arrived at Sydney, relatives of the sick man came and took him away. Neither he nor his relatives said so much as’Thank you’ to the man who had spent six weeks nursing him. You will surely say that was very ungrateful. Men who never pray to God treat Him like that. God has done far more for us than that passenger did for his sick friend. God has given us everything that we are. He keeps us in being every moment we live. He provides us with so many wonderful gifts that we can never hope to count them all.

Common sense tells us that we must acknowledge that we depend on Him. We owe God a debt. Paying our debts is called justice. A man who never pays his debts is an unjust man. A man who never worships God is not paying his debts to God. He is an unjust man. Worship and religion are our debt to God. That is the second point under our first big fact: God must be worshipped.

3. WE MUST WORSHIP GOD IN THE WAY HE TEACHES US

And now we come to our third point. It is simply this: if God has told us how He wants to be worshipped, we must worship Him in that way and in no other. All the rights are on His side. He is the complete master. We depend on Him for everything, even our being. So we have no right to turn round to God and say:’I will worship you as I choose, but not in the way you told me.’ What would have happened to you at school if you had said to your teacher, ‘I do not mind doing sums but I will do them in my own way and not the way you teach me’? If you ever did say that you have probably painful memories of it!

CHRIST

Under our first big fact, we have discussed three points like this: God-1, He exists; 2, He must be worshipped; 3, He must be worshipped in the way He has revealed. That brings us to our second great fact. It is the fact of Jesus Christ.

1. CHRIST IS GOD

Under this fact, too, we have three important points. The first of them is this: Christ is God. From your school days you probably remember quite a lot about the life of Jesus Christ. He was born nearly 2,000 years ago in a stable at Bethlehem. His mother was the Virgin Mary, and his foster-father was Joseph. When He was born angels sang to shepherds nearby and they came to adore Him. Three Kings also came from the East to adore Him and give Him their presents. When King Herod was jealous and wanted to kill Him an angel appeared to Joseph and told him to take the Infant Jesus into Egypt. When Herod had died the Holy Family came back and lived at Nazareth. There Jesus helped Joseph, who was a carpenter. When He was thirty He left home. He fasted for forty days and nights in the desert and allowed Himself to be tempted by the devil. Then He began preaching and supported His preaching by doing wonderful things called miracles. He brought dead people back to life, changed water into wine, cured all kinds of diseases, multiplied a few loaves and fishes to feed a great crowd, and so on. We know that He foretold future events in great detail. The Jewish leaders were jealous of Him and wanted to kill Him. He had chosen twelve Apostles whom He wished to train to carry on His work. One of them betrayed Him to the Jews. He was arrested in the Garden of Gethsemane, tried, tortured, beaten and eventually killed by being nailed to a cross. He was buried; but on the third day He rose again from His tomb. For forty days He continued to appear to His immediate followers, teaching them very special lessons. Then He went up from the Mount of Olives into Heaven and ten days later the Holy Spirit came down on His Apostles as He had foretold.

THE GOSPELS

We know about Christ mainly from four history books called Gospels. Gospel is an old English word meaning good news. The writers of the Gospels are Matthew, Mark, Luke and John. They are called Evangelists. Matthew and John were our Lord’s personal followers; Mark might have known Him personally but he got most of his facts from Peter, who was the chief of our Lord’s Apostles; Luke was a doctor who got his information from our Lord’s Mother and others who had known Him personally. St John tells us that the Gospels are not a full account of our Lord’s life. They are only outlines.

You will naturally want to know whether these Gospels can be believed. You may think that after all this time they may have been changed or misunderstood. Let me assure you that no books have been more thoroughly and minutely examined than these Gospels. Scholars have studied them from every angle. They have compared what they say with what is found out from other sources, such as excavations and inscriptions. The more research is done on the Gospels the more their truth is established. Still, the main way in which we learn about Christ is called Tradition. In fact, we know most historical things by tradition. Have you ever read a life of the Duke of Wellington? You probably know quite a bit about him because you were told it at school. You know that he won the Battle of Waterloo. So it is with a great deal of the knowledge you have at this moment. In the same way traditions about Christ have been kept alive in the Church. St John tells us that all the books in the world would not be enough to contain the full story of His words and deeds. But, for the moment, we will limit ourselves to what the Gospels tell us.

CHRIST’S MIRACLES, PROPHECIES AND

CHARACTER

Read them and you will find descriptions of the wonderful things Christ did. They are called miracles. In fact, if you take the stories of miracles out of the Gospels you have not very much left. Christ, whom Catholics often refer to as Our Blessed Lord, told the people of His day that He worked miracles so that they would believe that His message was really from God, whom He always called His Father.

You will discover also that Christ foretold future events in astonishing detail. For example, He said in advance that He would be denied by Peter and betrayed by Judas, that He would be struck and scourged and spat upon, that He would be killed and buried and would rise again on the third day, that he would ascend into Heaven and send His Holy Spirit down on the Apostles. He foretold also the destruction of the city of Jerusalem, which actually took place in the year 70. He also described in advance the marvellous spread of His Church and its persecution. This, like His miracles, shows that God was with Him.

While you read the Gospels you will learn a lot about the character of Jesus Christ. It is the most perfect character ever described in human words. It was in great contrast to the accepted teachings of His time. His own teaching corresponded to His character. It is the wisest and the most sublime the world has ever known. The people He spoke to remarked that He taught with authority.

Put all these things together in your mind -our Lord’s miracles, His prophecies, His character and His teaching- and you will agree that whatever He claimed about Himself must have God’s support. God would certainly never allow anybody to do all the wonderful things Jesus Christ did if He was falsely claiming to be God.

CHRIST ‘S CLAIMS

When you read the Gospels you will see how often Christ claimed to be God. Of course He could not claim it directly all at once. If He had told the Jews in the simplest possible words that He was their God, they would have stoned Him and He would have had no chance of giving men all the things He wanted them to have, such as His example, His teaching and His Church. He had to prepare them gently. But in the end He told them very clearly that He was one and the same Being as His Father in Heaven. Before the world came into being He existed with His Father. He claimed for Himself the name the Jews had always given to God. It is really Yahwe, which means I am. It has been corrupted to Jehovah. He said on oath before the High Priest that He was the judge of all men. He forgave sins in His own name, and when the Jews told Him that only God could do that He worked a miracle to prove that He could do it and that therefore He was God. The Jews knew that He was claiming to be God because they said to Pilate that He was guilty of death because He claimed to be God.

CHRIST ‘S RESURRECTION

We have seen that God supported that claim, but so far I have hardly mentioned the main reason why we know that. It is because Christ came to life again when He had been brutally killed. He said He would do that. And He did it. For forty days after coming back to life He allowed Himself to be seen frequently by His followers. They talked to Him and even had meals with Him. Of course, the Jews were anxious to prove that He had not risen from the dead at all. They invented the silly story that the Apostles had stolen Christ’s body when the guards were asleep. It is silly because if the guards were asleep how did they know what happened or, if the body were stolen, who stole it? In any case, all the Jews had to do was to produce the body. Not only did they not do that but there is not the slightest indication that they ever even searched for the body. There is no more certain event in history than the Resurrection of Jesus Christ. He did it by His own power. He is God. That is our first point under our second big fact: Jesus Christ is truly God. He is, of course, really man also.

2. CHRIST’S WAY IS GOD’S WAY

Our second point follows from that very easily. Because Christ is God every word that He says is God ‘s word; everything He does is God’s deed; everything He gives is God’s gift. The religion He taught is God’s religion. It is the way in which God wishes to be worshipped. That is the second point: Christ’s way is God’s way. Christ’s religion is God’s religion. Christ’s teaching is God’s teaching. What Christ commands or forbids God commands or forbids.

3. WE MUST ACCEPT ALL CHRIST’S TEACHING

The third point follows directly. We must accept everything in Christ ‘s teaching without exception. We have no right to pick and choose. We have no right to say, for example, I agree with that and shall do it; but I do not like that and shall not do it. We must accept the lot.

Now we can summarize as far as we have gone. The first big fact is God. We made three points: 1, God exists; 2, God must be worshipped; 3, God must be worshipped in the way He has revealed. The second big fact is Jesus Christ. About Him we also make three points: 1, He is God; 2, His religion is God’s religion; 3, We must accept it.

THE CHURCH

1. CHRIST ORGANIZED A CHURCH

Our third big fact is Christ ‘s Church. The first point under this fact is that Christ organized a Church and commanded all men to belong to it. Read the Gospels for yourself. You can buy them for a few pence from the. . . . You will find from them that Christ did not just begin a religious movement in a vague sort of way. He was not satisfied with giving us example or even teaching. He did not just launch ideas and do nothing more about them. He started a definite organization and made one of His followers its head. He told it what to do and how to do it. He spoke of it as’My Church.’

The Gospels tell us how Christ chose His Apostles. First of all He summoned them individually to follow Him. Then there was a kind of ceremonial or official calling. After a night in prayer He called out the Twelve from the crowd. He named them Apostles, which word is from the Greek. It means an envoy, one who is sent. The names of the Twelve are given in official lists, and Simon, whose name our Lord changed to Peter, is definitely said to be first. He gave these Twelve very special powers. They were to teach men, govern men and make men holy. Here are some of our Lord’s words to them :’Going, therefore, teach ye all nations . . . to observe all things whatsoever I have commanded you. Go ye into the whole world and preach the Gospel to every creature. He that believeth, and is baptized, shall be saved : but he that believeth not shall be condemned. Whatsoever you shall bind upon earth shall be bound also in heaven; whatsoever you shall loose upon earth shall be loosed also in heaven. Whose sins you shall forgive, they are forgiven them: and whose sins you shall retain, they are retained. As the Father hath sent me, I also send you.’

Our Lord organized the kind of Church that people could see. He said that in case of dispute they were to tell the Church, appeal to the Church. Those who did not accept the ruling of the Church were to be cast out. In the language of our Lord’s own day they were to be’like the heathen.’

Think especially about our Lord ‘s last words to His Apostles. Here they are:’All power is given to me in Heaven and in earth. Going, therefore, teach ye all nations; baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Teaching them to observe all things whatsoever I have commanded you. And behold, I am with you all days, even to the consummation of the world.’ Think about that. See how our Lord claims universal Kingship. All power is His. Because of that-notice how He says therefore-He is passing on His mission to His Apostles. He uses the little word all four times. Because He possesses all power He tells them that they are to teach all nations all His revelation for all time. There are no exceptions. There is no country in which they must not preach nor any individual whom they must not approach. Christ’s teaching is for everybody. His Church is to go on until the end of time. He never speaks about His Churches. It is always one Church. He likens it to a household, a sheepfold, a flock. He said He had other sheep who were not in His fold. They must be brought in and hear His voice so there would be one fold and one shepherd.

After His last supper, Jesus prayed beautifully to His Father that the Church he had organized would always remain united. Its unity was to be like that which existed between Him and His Father:’That they all may be one, as Thou in me and I in Thee.’ This unity was to be so wonderful that it would mark out the Church as being founded by God. Because Christ is God His prayer must have been heard. Whenever He prayed for anything it had to be created. Therefore His Church must always possess most wonderful unity. It would not possess this unity if its members did not all believe the same thing and all worship in the same way and all obey the same authority.

When Jesus had gone up into Heaven His Church went to work among men. Its early history is described in that book of the Bible called The Acts of the Apostles. It was written by St Luke about thirty-three years after our Lord went up into Heaven. From the beginning of the story we see that the Church is an organized thing. It had deacons, priests, bishops, sacraments and discipline. So there is no doubt about our first point. Christ organized a Church. The Gospels describe how He did it and the Acts of the Apostles describe how it worked after He had gone back to Heaven. There are a lot more things we discover about this Church. For example, Jesus said it would always have His Holy Spirit as its special guide. With a guide like that it could never lead men astray. In fact, Christ said:’He that heareth you heareth me.’ Anybody who heard Christ certainly heard the truth. So when the Church teaches it teaches the truth. It can never go wrong in the essentials of its teaching, of its worship or its authority. Again, Jesus said that men would become members of His Church by being baptized. He told the Apostles to baptize. Ever since, baptism has been the way by which men joined Christ’s Church. The very fact that you have an admission ceremony means that you join an organization. From the beginning there has been this ceremony of admission to the Church of Christ. It was His own personal instruction. So we know that He left behind Him a religious organization.

2. ONLY THE CATHOLIC CHURCH IS CHRIST’S CHURCH

Now pass on to our second point. It is that the Catholic Church, and only the Catholic Church, with its head, the Pope, is the Church which Christ founded. This is proved in several ways, but we will use just three. The first is to examine the Church as it was immediately after Christ’s Ascension. We have already done that, and when we compare the Catholic Church with the Church that we discovered in the Acts of the Apostles we find that they are the same. The head of the Church of the Acts was St Peter; the head of the Catholic Church today is the successor of St Peter, the Pope. The Church of the Acts taught with a certain voice; the Catholic Church today teaches with that same certain voice. The Church in the Acts had its Bishops, Priests and Deacons; the Catholic Church today has its Bishops, Priests and Deacons. The Church in the Acts had its definite doctrine; the Catholic Church today teaches those same doctrines. More than that, every Catholic priest derives his spiritual power from his connection with the Apostles. For example, the priest who is writing these lines was ordained by the late Archbishop Downey of Liverpool. Archbishop Downey received the power to ordain priests when he was consecrated bishop by three other bishops. Those three were consecrated by three others, and so on. Continue the line right back and you will eventually end with the Apostles. All the bishops in each line acknowledged the authority of the Pope. They all taught the same doctrines and they all worshipped in the same way. There never was any break at all. The Catholic Church is exactly the same organization which Christ founded. It is the Church of the Apostles-really and fully Apostolic.

THE CATHOLIC CHURCH: ONE AND UNIVERSAL

Now look at the Catholic Church today and throughout her history. Remember that Jesus Christ said she was to teach all nations. She has done it and is doing it still. Look at our world. See the divisions between men. We have not yet recovered after two world wars. Our race is fearful because of the division between East and West. The United Nations Organization serves to show how disunited the nations are. Attempts to establish a universal language have failed. Trade restrictions remain. There are differences of colour, national traditions, language, climate, occupation, character, class, political loyalties and so on. Yet the Catholic Church bridges all these differences. In it men of every class, colour, nation, tongue and clime all believe the same doctrines, all worship in the same way and all obey the same authority. But that is not all.

Go back through the centuries. Think of Catholics anywhere at any time. How they all differ. St Agnes was a girl of twelve when she was martyred in Rome about the year 300. St Maria Goretti was a girl of twelve when she was martyred in Italy in the year 1902. Both believed the same things, both went to the same Mass, received the same sacraments and both recognized the authority of the Pope. St Thomas More, Lord Chancellor of England, who was executed by King Henry VIII in 1539, believed exactly the same as St Benedict, the father of the monks here in the West, who died in 543. St Francis of Assisi, who died in 1226, believed, worshipped and obeyed in exactly the same way as St Francis Xavier, who died as a missionary in the Far East in 1552. United in these three things, in the same beliefs, the same worship and obedience to the same authority, are Catholics of all time, no matter how they are separated by miles and years.

St Anthony of Padua, the wonder-worker who died in 1231, was thus united with St Augustine, who brought the Faith to England from Rome in 597. St Patrick, the Apostle of Ireland, who died in 493, practised exactly the same faith as St Joan of Arc, the Maid of Orleans, who was burned at the stake in 1431. St. Edward the Confessor, the English king who died in 1066, was sanctified by precisely the same religion as St Martin de Porres, the South American half-caste, who was canonized by Pope John in 1962. So you could go on. If you were to take a kind of space ship and go back through the centuries and across the miles and meet any Catholic of any nation you would find there the identical belief, worship and obedience which you would find in any Catholic today.

How do you explain this marvellous combination of unity and universality? Remember that religion seems to be the one thing which tends to divide people. They argue about it so easily. How would you account for the fact that all these millions upon millions who are separated by hundreds of miles and hundreds of years all agree in belief and doctrine and obedience to the same authority? There is no natural explanation. It is something brought about by God. It is the result of the prayer of Christ. You find it in no other religion in the whole wide world.

THE CHURCH IS HOLY

All the Saints are the true fruits of the Catholic Church. Together they are the most wonderful company of heroes and heroines the world has ever known. They made themselves holy through using the means of holiness offered them by the Church, the same means which are available to every Catholic who has ever lived. They prove that the Church is holy in her teaching, in her worship and in her authority. They are the good fruit of the good tree. So we prove our second point. The Catholic Church today is the best argument for its own truth. She is stamped by God with four marks which identify her as His own. She is one and universal, apostolic and holy.

THE POPE IS ST PETER ‘S SUCCESSOR

A third proof remains. It is very simple. While He lived on earth Jesus Christ made St Peter the head of His Church. He changed his name to signify that he would be the foundation of the Church. His authority would hold all the members of the Church together like the foundation-stone of a building holds together all the things that make it. Peter was given authority over the whole flock. Christ prayed for him that he would never fail. Christ’s prayer must have been heard because He was God. In the Acts of the Apostles Peter acted as a head and was acknowledged as the head. Today the Pope in Rome is the successor of St Peter in a direct, unbroken line. At any period in history you could find the Church of Christ by finding the head Christ appointed. In other words, if you find the successor of St Peter you find Christ’s Church. That is why the Catholic Church today is the one organized by Christ Himself.

So we come to the end of our second point under our third fact. The Catholic Church is one and the same as that founded by Christ Himself.

3. THE CATHOLIC CHURCH MUST BE ACCEPTED

The third point is obvious and easy. It follows from all we have written. Remember that God must be worshipped in the way He has revealed. Christ is God. His way is God’s way. It must be accepted. The Catholic Church is Christ’s way; it is God’s way; it must be accepted. It is the one authority Christ left upon earth. To it and to it alone He said, ‘He that heareth you heareth me. Whatsoever you bind upon earth will be bound also in Heaven. I will be with you all days, even to the consummation of the world.’ As you go back through history all the non-Catholic bodies disappear. In 1850 there were no Christian Scientists, Mormons or Salvationists. In 1800 there were no Plymouth Brethren, in 1700 no Methodists, in 1590 no Baptists, Congregationalists or Quakers, in 1500 no Protestants, Presbyterians or Lutherans and in 800 no separated Eastern Church. The Catholic Church, centred in Rome, was there all the time. Nobody has ever been able to name a founder of it except Jesus Christ who was the one true God. It is His gift to all men. He wants all men to join it.

Note. -In this booklet I have tried to indicate as simply as possible the straight road to the Catholic Church. I have not even interrupted the text by including references to quotations from the New Testament. You will probably want to read more about the points I have made. You can obtain booklets on practically all of them from the Australian. . . . When you come across references to quotations from Scripture in them you should look them up in a Bible. When, for example, you find this: (Matt. 6:20), it means that the text is the twentieth verse of the sixth chapter of St Matthew’s Gospel.

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Simple Prayer Book

INDEX

USUAL PRAYERS

OUR FATHER

Our Father who art in heaven, hallowed be Thy Name. Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive them that trespass against us. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. Amen.

HAIL MARY

Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee: blessed art thou amongst women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death. Amen.

I BELIEVE

I believe in God, the Father Almighty, Creator of heaven and earth. And in Jesus Christ His only Son Our Lord; who was conceived by the Holy Ghost, born of the Virgin Mary, suffered under Pontius Pilate; was crucified, dead, and buried; He descended into hell; the third day he rose again from the dead; He ascended into heaven, sitteth at the right hand of God the Father Almighty; from thence He shall come to judge the living and the dead. I believe in the Holy Ghost; the Holy Catholic Church; the communion of saints the forgiveness of sins; the resurrection of the body, and life everlasting. Amen.

GLORY BE

Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Ghost. As it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be, world without end. Amen.

I CONFESS

I confess to Almighty God, to blessed Mary ever a Virgin, to blessed Michael the Archangel, to blessed John the Baptist, to the holy Apostles Peter and Paul, and to all the Saints, that I have sinned exceedingly in thought, word, and deed, through my fault, through my fault, through my most grievous fault. Therefore I beseech blessed Mary ever a virgin, blessed Michael the Archangel, blessed John the Baptist, the holy Apostles Peter and Paul, and all the Saints, to pray to the Lord our God for me. Amen.

MORNING PRAYERS

@ In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.

Our Father. Hail Mary. I believe. Glory be.

O my God, I believe in Thee, because Thou art truth itself.

O my God, I hope in Thee, because of Thy promises to me.

O my God, I love Thee above all things, because Thou art so good; teach me to love Thee daily more and more. O my God, I offer Thee all my thoughts, words, actions, and sufferings; and I beseech Thee give me Thy grace that

I may not offend Thee this day, but may faithfully serve Thee and do Thy holy will in all things. I desire to gain all the Indulgences that I can. Holy Mary, be a mother to me.

All ye Angels and Saints of God, pray for me. May Our Lord@ bless us and keep us from all evil, and bring us to life everlasting.

@ May the souls of the faithful departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace. Amen.

DURING THE DAY.- KEEP FROM SIN. BE OBEDIENT. ALWAYS TELL THE TRUTH. DO NOT STEAL. DO NOT LET ANY ONE LEAD YOU TO

DO ANYTHING WRONG. GOD SEES YOU

Always do what is right, and be afraid of none but God.

If you are tempted to sin, make the sign of the Cross and say, “Lord, save me, or I perish.” If you have fallen into sin, say, “My God, I am very sorry that I have offended Thee, I will not sin again.” Never miss Mass on Sundays or Holidays of Obligation.

Do not eat meat on Fridays or other days on which it is forbidden.

NIGHT PRAYERS

In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.

Our Father. Hail Mary. I believe. Glory be.

O \my God, I return Thee thanks for all the benefits which I have ever received from Thee, and particularly this day.

Give me light to see what sins I have committed this day, and grant me grace to be truly sorry for them. [Here wait a little, and think over what faults you have committed during the day.]

O my God, I am very sorry that I have offended Thee; I love Thee with all my heart because Thou art so good, and I will not sin again.

Into Thy hands, O Lord, I commend my spirit; Lord Jesus, receive my soul.

Holy Mary, be a mother to me.

May the blessed Virgin Mary, St. Joseph, and all the Saints, pray for us to Our Lord, that we may be preserved this night from sin and all evil. Amen.

O my good Angel, whom God has appointed to be my guardian, watch over me during this night. All ye Angels and Saints of God, pray for me.

May Our Lord@ bless us and preserve us from all evil, and bring us to life everlasting.

@ May the souls of the faithful departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace. Amen.

ACTS AND PRAYERS

AN ACT OF FAITH

I firmly believe that there is one God; and that in this one God there are three Persons, the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost; that the Son took to Himself the nature of man, from the Virgin Mary’s womb, by the power of the Holy Ghost; and that in this our human nature He was crucified and died for us; that afterwards He rose again and ascended into heaven; from thence He shall come to repay the just with everlasting glory, and the wicked with everlasting punishment. Moreover, I believe whatsoever else the Catholic Church proposes to be believed; and this because God, who is the sovereign Truth, who can neither deceive nor be deceived, has revealed all these things to this His Church.

AN ACT OF HOPE

O my God, relying on Thine almighty power and Thine infinite mercy and goodness, and because Thou art faithful to Thy promises, I trust in Thee that Thou wilt grant me forgiveness of my sins, through the merits of Jesus Christ Thy Son; and that Thou wilt give me the assistance of Thy grace, with which I may labour to continue to the end in the diligent exercise of all good works, and may deserve to obtain the glory which Thou hast promised in heaven.

AN ACT OF CHARITY

O Lord, my God, I love Thee with my whole heart, and above all things, because Thou, O God, art the sovereign good, and for Thine own infinite perfections art most worthy of all love; and for Thy sake I also love my neighbour as myself. I renounce every thought which is contrary to that love of one another, by which men are known to be the disciples of Thy Son; I forgive all who have in any way injured me, and I beg Thy grace and mercy for all the world.

AN ACT OF CONTRITION

O my God, I am sorry and beg pardon for all my sins, and detest them above all things, because they deserve Thy dreadful punishments, because they have crucified my loving Saviour Jesus Christ, and most of all, because they offend Thine infinite goodness; and I firmly resolve, by the help of ‘Thy grace, never to offend Thee again, and carefully to avoid the occasions of sin.

IN TEMPTATION

Lord, save me, or I perish. Keep me close to Thee by Thy grace, or I shall sin and fall away from Thee. Lord, I am very weak; give me grace and make my will strong, that I may not sin.

Jesus, help me; Mary, help me; my holy Angel, watch over me.

IN TROUBLE

In all things may the most holy, the most just, and the most lovable will of God be done, praised and exalted above all for ever. Thy will be done O Lord, Thy will be done. The Lord has given, the Lord has taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord.

IN SICKNESS AND PAIN

Lord, Thy will be done, I take this for my sin. I offer up to Thee my sufferings, together with all that my Saviour has suffered for me; and I beg of Thee, through His sufferings, to have mercy on me. Free me from this illness and pain if Thou willest and if it be for my good. Thou lovest me too much to let me suffer unless it be for my good. Therefore, O Lord, I trust myself to Thee; do with me as Thou pleasest. In sickness and in health, I wish to love Thee always.

FOR PURITY

O Jesus, most pure of heart! O spotless Lamb of God! help me that I may keep my heart and body pure, that all through my life I may never displease Thee by any wicked thing. Give me the blessing of the clean of heart.

ON GOING TO BED

Into Thy hands, O Lord, I commend my spirit. Lord Jesus, receive my soul. In the name of Our Lord Jesus Christ crucified, I lay me down to rest. Bless me, O Lord, and defend me; preserve me from a sudden and unprovided death, and from all dangers, and bring me to life everlasting with Thee.

INDULGENCED PRAYERS

Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Ghost; as it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be, world without end. Amen. (100 days, three times a day.)

In all things may the most holy, the most just, and the most lovable will of God be done, praised, and exalted above all for ever. (100 days, once a day.)

O Sacrament most holy, O Sacrament divine,

All praise and all thanksgiving be every moment Thine (100 days, once a day.)

My Jesus, mercy! Mary, help! (100 days each time.)

My sweetest Jesus, be not to me a judge, but a saviour. (50 days each time.)

Jesus, my God, I love Thee above all things. (50 days each time.)

O sweetest Heart of Jesus, I implore

That I may ever love Thee more and more. (300 days.)

Jesus, meek and humble of heart, make my heart like to Thine. (300 days, once a day.)

{Jesus, Mary, Joseph, I give you my heart and my life.

{Jesus, Mary, Joseph, assist me in my last agony.

{Jesus, Mary, Joseph, may I breathe forth my soul in peace in your blessed company. (300 days each time.)

O my good Angel, whom God, by His divine mercy, has appointed to be my guardian, enlighten and protect, direct and govern me. (100 days each time )

HOLY MASS

The first commandment of the Church binds all Catholics to hear Mass on all Sundays and Holidays of Obligation The Holidays of Obligation kept in Australia are*

1. Christmas Day, December 25th.

2. The Circumcision or New Year’s Day, January 1st.

3. Ascension Thursday, forty days after Easter Sunday.

4. The Assumption of Our Lady into heaven, August 15th.

5. The Feast of All Saints, November 1st.

To miss Mass on Sunday or on one of the above-named Holidays, through one’s own fault, is a mortal or grievous sin. To come in late, wilfully or through carelessness, when Mass has begun, before the Gospel, is a venial sin. To be absent from one of the principal parts of Mass is not hearing Mass at all.

To miss Mass when you cannot help it, or when it would be very difficult for you to hear Mass, is not a sin. So if you missed Mass because you were ill, or because you had to stay at home to mind a sick person or children, or because you were a long way from church, or if for some other reason you could not go, it would not be a sin. When you cannot go to Mass, say some prayers at home; but in no case may you join in the services of another religion. Workers should try not to take a place or situation where they cannot go to Mass on Sundays and Holidays of Obligation. The three principal parts of Mass are:

I.-The Offertory, or Offering of the Bread and Wine.

II.-The Consecration or Elevation (when the Bread and Wine are consecrated, or made holy by being changed into

Our Lord’s Body and Blood).

III.-The Priest’s Communion (when the Priest gives himself Holy Communion, after the last bell has rung at the

Domine non sum dignus).

THE HOLY DAYS OF OBLIGATION WERE REDUCED AFTER THE SECOND VATICAN COUNCIL

SHORT INSTRUCTION ON HOLY MASS

Holy Mass is the most solemn act of the worship of God. It is now more than eighteen hundred years since Our Lord Jesus Christ hung for three long hours on the Cross on Mount Calvary, and then died on it for our salvation-that is, to save us from sin and hell.

Mass is the same sacrifice as that of Calvary; the manner only in which it is offered is different: so that when you assist at it, you may think you are standing with our Blessed Lady and St. John at the foot of the cross.

The bread and wine are changed by the Priest in the middle of the Mass, at the Consecration, into the Body and Blood of Jesus Christ, who then offers Himself again to His Eternal Father for the salvation of mankind. The graces obtained for us by the shedding of Our Lord’s Blood on Calvary are given in an especial manner to those who hear Holy Mass devoutly.

You know that Our Lord died once only, on Good Friday. But in the Mass His death on the Cross is commemorated by the separate Consecration of the Bread and Wine, He cannot really die again. His Body and Blood cannot really be separated, for His glorious risen Body cannot suffer any more-it is immortal. But in the Mass the Bread is first changed into Our Lord’s Body, and then the Wine is changed into His Blood. Thus it looks as though the Body and

Blood were separated, and this recalls the real separation, the real shedding of Our Lord’s Blood on Mount Calvary. Then He really died for us. In the Mass His death is represented, or “shown forth,” as St. Paul says. Both on Mount Calvary and in the Mass the victim (that which is offered) is the same-the Body and Blood of Christ; and the Priest is the same-Christ Our Lord, who offered Himself on Calvary through the executioners who put Him to death, and who offers Himself in the Mass on the altar through His priests, who say the words of Consecration. So the sacrifice of Calvary and the Mass are the same sacrifice, only the manner in which they are offered is different. On Calvary Our Lord’s Blood was really shed, and He really died; in the Mass His Blood appears to be shed, and His death is represented. Thus Our Lord offers Himself for us every time Mass is said.

To pray well during Mass is the best way to worship God and to obtain His blessing, for Jesus Christ Himself then prays with us and for us and His sacrifice is offered for us.

How the Mass reminds us of the Passion of Christ Our Lord.

As the Mass represents the Passion of Christ Our Lord, its chief parts remind us of His sufferings. Thus At the beginning of Mass the Priest bows down for the Confiteor, as Our Lord bowed Himself to the ground during His agony.

The Offertory, or offering of bread and wine, reminds us that Our Lord offered His sacred Body to be scourged and His Head to be crowned with thorns.

At the Elevation or consecration, Our Lord appears as if dead on the altar. This speaks to us of Calvary, when Our Redeemer really died fur Our salvation.

The Prayer for the Dead represents Our Lord’s going down to Limbo, to comfort the holy souls detained there.

The Priest’s Communion puts us in mind of Christ’s burial, when He was hidden from the sight of men.

The reading of the Prayers called Communion and Post Communion signifies His rising again after being part o! three days in the tomb.

The Blessing given by the Priest to the people represents Our Lord’s Ascension; when, stretching out His hands, Ile blessed His Virgin Mother and His disciples, and then departed from them into heaven.

PRAYER BEFORE MASS

O my Saviour, I come before Thy holy Altar to assist at Thy divine Sacrifice. Do Thou prepare my soul to receive Thy grace; fix my mind on Thee; wash away in Thy Precious Blood all the sins of which Thou seest me guilty; I hate them for the love of Thee, and most humbly beg pardon for them. Grant, O sweet Jesus, that uniting my intentions to Thine, I may spend my whole life for Thy glory, as Thou didst give Thy life for the saving of my soul. Amen.

I wish to share in the communion of saints by gaining all the indulgences I can today; and I place them in the hands of Our Blessed Lady for the relief of the souls in purgatory. My Jesus, mercy! Mary, help!

The Priest begins Mass standing at the foot of the Altar. Call to mind the Garden of Olives, where Our Lord went on Holy Thursday night, taking with him his three chosen Apostles-Peter, James and John. It was then that Our Saviour began His Passion. He went a little distance from these His companions and prayed, His face bowed to the earth. The pain He felt was so bitter that He sweated blood, which ran in great drops to the ground. He accepted His sufferings, although they cost Him so much, saying to His heavenly Father, “Not My will, but Thine he done.”

THE ANGELUS

To be said morning, noon, and night, to put us in mind that God the Son became man for our salvation. 1. The Angel of the Lord declared unto Mary:

And she conceived of the Holy Ghost.

Hail Mary, etc;

2. Behold the handmaid of the Lord

Be it done unto me according to Thy word.

Hail Mary, etc.

And the Word was made Flesh

And dwelt among us.

Hail Mary, etc.

V. Pray for us, O holy Mother of God.

R. That we may be made worthy of the promises of Christ.

Let us pray.

Pour forth we beseech Thee, O Lord, Thy grace into our hearts, that we to whom the Incarnation of Christ, Thy Son, was made known by the message of an angel, may by His Passion and Cross@ be brought to the glory of His Resurrection, through the same Chris: Our Lord. Amen. May the divine assistance remain always with us and may the souls of the faithful departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace.

Amen.

Psalm 129, “DE PROFUNDIS.”

Out of the depths I have cried to Thee, O Lord; Lord, hear my voice.

Let Thine ears be attentive to the voice of my supplication.

If Thou, O Lord, shalt observe iniquities; Lord, who shall endure it?

For with Thee there is merciful forgiveness: and by reason of Thy law I have waited for Thee, O Lord. My soul hath relied on His word; my soul hath hoped in the Lord.

From the morning watch even until night, let Israel hope in the Lord.

Because with the Lord there is mercy, and with Him plentiful redemption.

And He shall redeem Israel from all his iniquities.

Eternal rest give to them, O Lord, and let perpetual light shine upon them.

Let us pray.

O God, the Creator and Redeemer of all the faithful, grant to the soul of Thy servants departed the remission of all their sins, that through pious supplications they may obtain that pardon which they have always desired; who livest and reignest for ever and ever. Amen.

PRAYERS FOR CONFESSION

BEFORE CONFESSION

O most merciful God, I most humbly thank Thee for all Thy mercies unto me; and particularly at this time, for Thy forbearance and long suffering with me, notwithstanding my many and grievous sins. It is of Thy great mercy that I have not fallen into greater and more grievous sins than those which I have committed, and that I have not been cut off and cast into hell.

O my God, although I have been so ungrateful to Thee in times past, yet now I beseech Thee to accept me, returning to Thee with an earnest desire to repent, and to devote myself to Thee, my Lord and my God, and to praise Thy holy Name for ever.

Grant me, I beseech Thee, perfect contrition for my sins, that I may detest them with the deepest sorrow of heart. Send forth Thy light into my soul, and discover to me all those sins which I ought to confess at this time. Assist me by Thy grace, that I may be able to declare them to the priest, fully, humbly, and with a contrite heart, and so obtain perfect remission of them all through Thine infinite goodness. Amen.

O most gracious Virgin Mary, beloved Mother of Jesus Christ my Redeemer, intercede for me with Him. Obtain for me the full remission of my sins and perfect amendment of life, to the salvation of my soul, and the glory of His Name.

Now try to find out your sins, and how often you have committed them.

How long is it since your last confession ? Did you keep back any sin in your last confession? Did you say your penance? Did you go to Holy Communion without preparing yourself, or after having broken your fast? Have you always said your morning and night prayers? Did you say them badly? Have you used bad words? Did you stay away from Mass on Sundays or Holidays through your own fault? Did you laugh or talk in church? Have you been disobedient to your parents or superiors? Have you called them names? or grumbled at them? or struck them? Have you been angry or in a passion? or sulky? Have you quarrelled? or fought? or struck anyone? Have you borne malice to anyone. Have you done anything wrong by thought, word, or deed against purity or modesty? Have you got others to do wrong ? Have you stolen anything? or done any wilful damage? or kept that to which you had no right? Have you told lies? Have you told lies against anyone? Have you injured your neighbour’s character by speaking ill of him without reason ? Have you eaten meat on Fridays or other days on which it is forbidden? Have you been proud or vain of yourself? or despised others? Have you been discontented ? Have you committed sin by eating or drinking too much? Have you wasted your money in drink? or frequented public houses ? or gone with bad company? Have you been jealous of others? Have you been idle or slothful? Have you done anything else that you ought to confess?

For those who work for others.-Have you been disrespectful to your employers? Have you wasted or wilfully damaged their goods ? or allowed others to do so? Have you stolen from them or given away their things without leave? Have you been idle or careless at your work? or not done what you were told to do ? Have you read other people’s letters? Have you gossiped about the private affairs of your employers ?

God is very good. He made you and gave you your soul and body, and everything that you have. He is also very holy and just; and He hates sin. He made Heaven for good people, and hell for the wicked. He loves you very much. He was made man for you, and died upon the Cross, with great nails in His Hands and Feet, and a crown of thorns upon His Head, to help you to be good, and to get to Heaven. And when you sin, you offend this good God, who loves you so much.

Try now to be very sorry for your sins, and make up your mind not to sin any more.

ACTS OF CONTRITION

O Lord Jesus Christ, lover of our souls, who, for the great love wherewith Thou hast loved us, wouldst not the death of a sinner, but rather that he should be converted and live; I grieve from the bottom of my heart that I have offended Thee, my most loving Father and Redeemer, unto whom all sin is infinitely displeasing; who hast so loved me that Thou didst shed Thy Blood for me, and endure the bitter torments of a most cruel death. O my God, O Infinite Goodness, would that I had never offended Thee. Pardon me, O Lord Jesus, most humbly imploring Thy mercy. Have pity upon a sinner, for whom Thy Blood pleads before the face of the Father.

O most merciful and forgiving Lord, for the love of Thee I forgive all who have ever offended me. I firmly resolve to forsake and flee from all sins, and to avoid the occasions of them; and to confess, in bitterness of spirit, all those sins which I have committed against Thy divine goodness, and to love Thee, O my God, for Thine own sake, above all things for ever. Grant me grace so to do, O most gracious Lord Jesus.

O my God, I am very sorry that I have offended Thee, because Thou art so good; and I will not sin again.

My Lord and my God, I sincerely acknowledge myself a vile and wretched sinner unworthy to appear in Thy presence; but do Thou have mercy on me, and save me.

Most loving Father, I have sinned against heaven and before Thee; and am unworthy to be called Thy child; make me as one of Thy servants, and may I for the future be ever faithful to Thee. I am now resolved, with the help of Thy grace, to be more watchful over myself, to amend my faults and fulfil Thy law. Look down on me ‘with the eyes of mercy, O God, and blot out my sins.

Say the Our Father and the Hail Nary.

PRAYERS AFTER CONFESSION

O almighty and most merciful God, who, according to the multitude of Thy tender mercies, hast been pleased once more to receive me, after so many times going astray from Thee, and to admit me to this sacrament of forgiveness! I give Thee thanks with all the powers of my soul for this and all other mercies, graces, and blessings bestowed on me; and casting myself at Thy sacred feet, I offer myself to be henceforth for ever Thine. Let nothing in life or death ever separate me from Thee. I renounce with my whole soul all the sins of my past life. I renew my promises made in baptism, and from this moment I give myself eternally to Thy love and service. Grant that for the time to come I may hate sin more than death itself, and avoid all such occasions and company as have unhappily brought me to it. This I resolve to do, by the aid of Thy divine grace, without which I can do nothing. I beg Thy blessing on these my resolutions, for, O Lord, without Thee I am nothing but misery and sin. Supply also, by Thy mercy, whatever defects have been in this my confession, and give me grace to be now and always a true penitent; through Jesus Christ Thy Son. Amen.

Mary, Mother of God, be a Mother to me

Now say your penance.

PRAYERS FOR HOLY COMMUNION

1.- Say these Prayers slowly, a few words at a time.

2.-It is well to stop after every few words that they may sink into the heart.

3.-Each Prayer may be said several times.

BEFORE HOLY COMMUNION

Prayer for Help.-O my God, help me to make a good Communion. Mary, my dearest Mother, pray to Jesus for me.

My dear Angel Guardian, lead me to the Altar of God.

ACT OF FAITH.-O GOD, BECAUSE THOU HAST SAID IT, I BELIEVE THAT I SHALL RECEIVE THE SACRED BODY OF JESUS CHRIST TO EAT, and His precious Blood to drink. My God, I believe this with all my heart.

ACT OF HUMILITY.-MY GOD, I CONFESS THAT I AM A POOR SINNER; I AM NOT WORTHY TO RECEIVE THE BODY AND BLOOD OF JESUS on account of my sins, Lord, I am not worthy that Thou shouldst enter under my roof; say but the word, and my soul shall be healed.

ACT OF SORROW.-MY GOD, I DETEST ALL THE SINE OF MY LIFE. I AM SORRY FOR THEM, BECAUSE THEY HAVE OFFENDED THEE, MY

God, who art so good. I resolve never to commit sin any more. My good God, pity me, have mercy on me, forgive me.

Amen.

Act of Adoration.-O Jesus, great God,’ present on the Altar, I bow down before Thee I adore Thee. Act of Love and Desire.-Sweet Jesus, I love Thee. I desire with all my heart to receive Thee. Most sweet Jesus, come into my poor soul, and give me Thy Flesh to eat and Thy Blood to drink. Give me Thy whole Self, Body, Blood,

Soul, and Divinity, that I may live for ever with Thee.

IN RECEIVING HOLY COMMUNION

(1) In going to the Altar-rails, and returning to your place, keep your hands joined, your eyes cast down, and your thoughts on Jesus Christ.

(2) At the Altar-rails, take the Communion cloth and spread it before you under your chin.

(3) Hold your head straight up, keep your eyes closed, your mouth well open, and your tongue out, resting on the under lip. Then with great outward reverence, receive the Sacred Host, saying in your heart, with all the faith of St. Thomas-” My Lord and my God.”

After Holy Communion.

Act of Faith .-O Jesus, I believe that I have received Thy Flesh to eat and Thy Blood to drink, because Thou hast said it, and Thy word is true.

Act of Adoration.-O Jesus, my God, my Creator, I adore Thee, because from Thy hands I came and with Thee I am to be happy for ever.

Act of Humility.-O Jesus, I am but dust and ashes, and yet Thou hast come to me, and my poor heart may speak to Thee.

Act of Love.-Sweet Jesus, I love Thee; I love Thee with all my heart. Thou knowest that I love Thee, and wish to love Thee daily more and more.

Act of Thanksgiving.-My good Jesus, I thank Thee with all my heart. How good, how kind Thou art to me, sweet Jesus. Blessed be Jesus in the most holy Sacrament of the Altar.

Act of Offering.-O Jesus, receive my poor offering. Jesus, Thou hast given Thyself to me, and now let me give myself to Thee:

I give Thee my body, that it may be chaste and pure.

I give Thee my soul, that it may be free from sin.

I give Thee my heart, that it may always love Thee.

I give Thee every breath that I shall breathe, and especially my last; I give Thee myself in life and in death, that I may be Thine for ever and ever.

Remember the words of Jesus: “ Ask and you shall receive,” and

PRAY FOR YOURSELF

O Jesus, wash away my sins with Thy Precious Blood.

O Jesus, the struggle against temptation is not yet finished. My Jesus, when temptation comes near me, make me strong against it. In the moment of temptation may I always say, “Jesus, mercy! Mary, help!”

O Jesus, may I lead a good life; may I die a happy death. May I receive Thee before I die. May I say when I am dying, “Jesus, Mary, Joseph, I give you my heart and my soul.”

Listen now for a moment to Jesus Christ; perhaps He has something to say to you. There may be some promise you have made and broken, which He wishes you to make again and keep.

Answer Jesus in your heart, and tell Him all your troubles. Then

PRAY FOR OTHERS

O Jesus, have mercy on Thy Holy Church; take care of it.

O Jesus, have pity on poor sinners, and save them from hell.

O Jesus, bless my father, my mother, my brothers and sisters, and all I ought to pray for, as Thy Heart knows how to bless them.

O Jesus, have pity on the poor souls in Purgatory and give them eternal rest.

Sweet Jesus, I am going away for a time, but I trust not without Thee. Thou art with me by Thy grace. I will never leave Thee by mortal sin. I do not fear to do so, though I am so weak, because I have such a hope in Thee. Give me grace to persevere. Amen.

OTHER DEVOTIONS FOR COMMUNION. BEFORE COMMUNION

MAKE AN ACT OF FAITH

I most firmly believe, O Jesus, that in this holy Sacrament Thou art present verily and indeed; that here is Thy Body and Blood, Thy Soul and Thy Divinity. I believe that Thou, my Saviour, true God and true Man, art really here, with all Thy treasures; that here Thou communicatest Thyself to us, makest us partakers of the fruit of Thy Passion, and givest us a pledge of eternal life. I believe there cannot be a greater happiness than to receive Thee worthily, nor a greater misery than to receive Thee unworthily. All this I most steadfastly believe, because it is what Thou hast taught us by Thy Church.

MAKE AN ACT OF CONTRITION

O Lord, I detest, with my whole heart, all the sins by which I have offended Thy Divine Majesty, from the first moment that I was capable of sinning to this very hour, I desire to lay them all at Thy feet, to be cancelled by Thy Precious Blood. Hear me, O Lord, by that infinite love by which Thou hast shed Thy Blood for me. O let not that Blood be shed in vain! I detest my sins, because they have offended Thy infinite goodness. By Thy grace I will never commit them any more: I am sorry for them, and will be sorry for them as long as I live; and according to the best of my power, will do penance for them. Forgive me, dear Lord, for Thy mercy’s sake; pardon me all that is past and be Thou my keeper for the time to come, that I may never more offend Thee.

MAKE AN ACT OF DIVINE LOVE

O Lord Jesus, the God of my heart and the life of my soul, as the hart pants after the fountains of water, so does my soul pant after Thee, the fountain of life, and the ocean of all good. I am overjoyed at hearing the happy tidings that I am to go into the house of the Lord; or rather that Our Lord is to come into my house, and take up His abode with me. O happy moments, when I shall be admitted to the embraces of the living God, for whom my soul languishes with love! Come, Lord Jesus, and take full possession of my heart for ever! I offer it to Thee without reserve; 1 desire to consecrate it eternally to Thee. I love Thee with my whole soul above all things; at least, I desire so to love Thee. It is nothing less than infinite love that brings Thee to me; O teach me to make a suitable return of love.

HUMBLY BEG GODS GRACE

But, O my God, Thou knowest my great poverty and misery, and that of myself I can do nothing: Thou knowest how unworthy I am of this infinite favour, and Thou alone canst make me worthy. Since Thou art so good as to invite me thus to Thyself, add this one bounty more to all the rest-to prepare me for Thyself. Never let me be guilty of Thy Body and Blood by an unworthy communion. For the sake of this same precious Blood, which Thou hast shed for me, deliver me, O Jesus, from so great an evil.

IMPLORE THE PRAYERS OF THE BLESSED VIRGIN AND OF THE SAINTS

O all ye blessed Angels and Saints of God, and thou most especially, ever-blessed Virgin, Mother of this same God and Saviour whom I am now going to receive in this holy Sacrament, pray for me that I may receive Him worthily.

AFTER COMMUNION

What return shall I make to Thee, O Lord, for all Thou hast done for me ? Behold, when I had no being at all, Thou didst create me; and when I was gone astray, and lost in my sins, Thou didst redeem me by dying for me. All that I have, all that I am, is Thy gift; and now, after all Thy other favours, Thou hast given me Thyself; blessed be Thy name for ever. Thou art great, O Lord, and exceedingly to be praised; great are Thy works and of Thy wisdom there is no end; but Thy tender mercies, Thy bounty and goodness to me, are above all Thy works; these I desire to confess and extol for ever.

O my Jesus, Thou art infinitely rich, and all the treasures of divine grace are locked up in Thee. These treasures Thou bringest with Thee when Thou dost visit us in this blessed Sacrament, and Thou takest an infinite pleasure in opening them to us, to enrich our poverty. This it is that gives me confidence to present Thee now with my petitions, and to beg. of Thee those graces and virtues which I stand so much in need of. O increase and strengthen my belief of Thy heavenly truths; and grant that henceforward I may ever live by faith, and be guided by the maxims of Thy Gospel. Teach me to be poor in spirit, and take off my heart from the love of these transitory things, and fix it upon eternity:. teach me, by Thy divine example, and by Thy most efficacious grace, to be meek and humble of heart, and in my patience to possess my soul. Grant that I may ever keep my body and soul chaste and pure; that I may ever bewail my past sins, and by a daily mortification restrain all irregular inclinations and passions for the future. Teach me to love Thee, to be ever recollected in Thee, and to walk always in Thy presence; teach me to love my friends in Thee, and my enemies for Thee; grant me grace to persevere to the end in this love, and so to come one day to that blessed place where I may love and enjoy Thee for ever.

Have mercy also on my parents, friends and benefactors, and on all those for whom I am bound to pray, that we may all love Thee and faithfully serve Thee. Have mercy on Thy whole Church, especially on the clergy and religious men and women, that all may live up to their calling, and sanctify Thy name. Give Thy grace and blessing to all princes and magistrates, and to all Christian people; convert all unbelievers and sinners, and bring all strayed sheep back to Thy fold; particularly have mercy on ( Here name those for whom you wish especially to pray.) etc.

O blessed Virgin, Mother of my God and Saviour, recommend all these my petitions to your Son. O all ye angels and Saints of God, unite your prayers with mine; be ever mindful of me, and obtain from Him, and through Him, that with you I may bless Him and love Him for ever. Amen.

Before you leave say this

INDULGENCED PRAYER

Behold, O kind and most sweet Jesus, I cast myself on my knees in Thy sight, and with the most fervent desire of my soul, I pray and beseech Thee that Thou wouldst impress upon my heart lively sentiments of faith, hope, and charity, with true repentance for my sins, and a firm desire of amendment, while with deep affection and grief of soul I ponder within myself and mentally contemplate Thy five most precious wounds; having before my eyes that which David spake in prophecy: “They pierced My hands and My feet; they have numbered all My bones.”

Say also five times the Our Father and Hail Mary, for the Pope and the Church.

TRUTHS OF FAITH WHICH EVERY CHRISTIAN IS BOUND TO KNOW. THERE IS ONE GOD, WHO WILL REWARD THE GOOD AND PUNISH THE WICKED

In this one God there are Three Persons, the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost. God the Son was made man and died for us; afterwards He rose again and ascended into Heaven.

BENEDICTION

When the Priest opens the Tabernacle and incenses the Blessed Sacrament, the following Hymn is sung:

O SALUTARIS HOSTIA Quae coeli pandis ostium; Bella premunt hostilia, Da robur, fer auxilium.

Uni Trinoque Domino Sit sempiterna gloria Qui vitam sine termino Nobis donet in patria.

Amen.

After which usually follows:

THE LITANY OF THE BLESSED VIRGIN. LORD HAVE MERCY

Lord have mercy.

Christ have mercy.

Christ have mercy.

Lord have mercy.

Lord have mercy.

Christ hear us.

Christ graciously hear us.

God the Father of heaven,

God the Son, Redeemer of the world, God the Holy Ghost,

Holy Trinity one God,

Holy Mary,

Holy Mother of God,

Holy Virgin of virgins,

Mother of Christ,

Mother of divine grace,

Mother most pure,

Mother most chaste,

Mother inviolate,

Mother undefiled,

Mother most amiable,

Mother most admirable,

Mother of good counsel,

Mother of our Creator,

Mother of our Saviour,

Virgin most prudent,

Virgin most venerable,

Virgin most renowned,

Virgin most powerful,

Virgin most merciful,

Virgin most faithful,

Mirror of justice,

Seat of wisdom,

Cause of our joy,

Spiritual vessel,

Vessel of honour,

Singular vessel of devotion,

Mystical Rose,

Tower of David,

Tower of ivory,

House of gold,

Ark of the covenant,

Gate of heaven,

Morning Star,

Health of the sick,

Refuge of sinners,

Comforter of the afflicted,

Help of Christians,

Queen of Angels,

Queen of Patriarchs,

Queen of Prophets,

Queen of Apostles,

Queen of Martyrs,

Queen of Confessors,

Queen of Virgins,

Queen of all Saints

Queen conceived without original sin,

Queen of the most holy Rosary,

Queen of Peace,

Lamb of God, who takest away the sins of the world, Spare us, O Lord.

Lamb of God, etc. Graciously hear us, O Lord.

Lamb of God, etc. Have mercy on us.

V. Pray for us, O holy Mother of God.

R. That we may be made worthy of the promises of Christ.

Then the following Hymn is sung, all present bowing down at the words “Veneremur cernui.”

Tantum ergo Sacramentum Veneremur cernui:

Et antiquum documentum Novo cedat ritui:

Praestat fides supplementum Sensuum defectui.

Genitori Genitoque

Laus et jubilatio,

Salus, honor, virtus quoque Sit et benedictio;

Procedenti ab utroque Compar sit laudatio.

Amen.

V. Panem de coelo praestitisti eis (Alleluia). R. Omne delectamentum in se habentem (Alleluia).

Deus, qui nobis sub sacramento mirabili passionis tux memoriam reliquisti; tribue, quaesumus, ita nos corporis et sanguinis tui sacra mysteria venerari; ut redemptionis tuae fructum in nobis jugiter sentiamus; qui vivis, etc. Amen.

Here, bowing down in fervent adoration, receive the Benediction of the Most Holy Sacrament. Then is usually sung:

Ant. Let us adore for ever the Most Holy Sacrament. O praise the Lord, all ye nations; praise Him all ye people.

For His mercy is confirmed upon us; and the truth of the Lord remaineth for ever. Glory be to the Father, etc.

“THE DIVINE PRAISES.” BLESSED BE GOD

Blessed be His holy Name.

Blessed be Jesus Christ, true God and true Man.

Blessed be the Name of Jesus.

Blessed be His Most Sacred Heart.

Blessed be Jesus in the Most Holy Sacrament of the Altar. Blessed be the great Mother of God, Mary most holy.

Blessed be her holy and Immaculate Conception.

Blessed be the name of Mary, Virgin and Mother.

Blessed be God in His Angels and in His Saints.

THE WAY OF THE CROSS

The Way of the Cross is a devotion to the Sacred Passion, in which we accompany, in spirit, Our Blessed Lord in His sorrowful journey from the house of Pilate to Calvary, and recall to mind, with sorrow and love, all that took place from the time when He was condemned to death to His being laid in the Tomb.

* Indulgence one year every time they are said.

There are fourteen Stations, or spots, in this Way of the Cross at which something took place which it is well for us to call to mind, and to think over. At each of them we should say the Our Father and the Hail Mary, and think, with love and sorrow for our sins, on the suffering of Our Lord represented to us at the station. Many Indulgences are attached to this devotion: to gain them we must be in a state of grace, must visit each station in order, thinking over what is represented, and must pray for the intentions of the Holy Father.

I. Jesus is condemned to death.

II. Jesus is made to bear the Cross.

III. Jesus falls the first time under the Cross.

IV. Jesus meets His afflicted Mother.

V. The Cross is laid upon Simon of Cyrene.

VI. Veronica wipes the face of Jesus.

VII. Jesus falls the second time.

VIII. Jesus speaks to the daughters of Jerusalem.

IX. Jesus falls the third time.

X. Jesus is stripped of His garments.

XI. Jesus is nailed to the Cross.

XII. Jesus dies upon the Cross.

XIII. Jesus is taken down from the Cross.

XIV. Jesus is placed in the sepulchre.

THE HOLY ROSARY

The Rosary is a devotion to the Incarnation of Our Lord and to His Blessed Mother. It is composed of fifteen decades, each decade consisting of the Our Father, ten Hail Marys, and the Glory be to the Father, and each being recited in honour of some mystery in the life of Our Lord and of His Blessed Mother. During each decade we should call to mind the mystery which it is intended to honour, and pray that we may learn to practise the virtue specially taught us by that mystery. Many Indulgences can be gained by saying the Rosary devoutly.

I. THE FIVE JOYFUL MYSTERIES . THE ANNUNCIATION

The Visitation.

The Birth of Our Saviour Jesus Christ in Bethlehem.

The Presentation of Our Blessed Lord in the Temple.

The Finding of the Child Jesus in the Temple.

II. THE FIVE SORROWFUL MYSTERIES . THE PRAYER AND BLOODY SWEAT OF OUR BLESSED SAVIOUR IN THE GARDEN. THE SCOURGING OF OUR BLESSED LORD AT THE PILLAR

The Crowning of Our Blessed Saviour with thorns.

Jesus Carrying His Cross.

The Crucifixion and Death of Our Lord.

III. THE FIVE GLORIOUS MYSTERIES. THE RESURRECTION

The Ascension of Christ into Heaven.

The Descent of the Holy Ghost on the Apostles.

The Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary into Heaven.

The Coronation of the Blessed Virgin Mary in Heaven and the glory of all the Saints.

LITANY OF THE MOST HOLY NAME OF JESUS LORD, HAVE MERCY

Christ, have mercy.

Lord, have mercy.

Jesus, hear us.

Jesus, graciously hear us.

God, the Father of Heaven, have mercy on us.

God the Son, Redeemer of the world, have mercy on us.

God, the Holy Spirit, have mercy on us.

Holy Trinity, one God, have mercy on us.

Jesus, Son of the living God, etc.

Jesus, Splendor of the Father, have mercy on us.

Jesus, Brightness of eternal Light, etc.

Jesus, King of Glory,

Jesus, Sun of Justice,

Jesus, Son of the Virgin Mary,

Jesus, most amiable,

Jesus, most admirable,

Jesus, the mighty God,

Jesus, Father of the world to come,

Jesus, Angel of great counsel,

Jesus, most powerful,

Jesus, most patient,

Jesus, most obedient,

Jesus, meek and humble of heart,

Jesus, Lover of Chastity,

Jesus, our Lover,

Jesus, God of Peace,

Jesus, Author of Life,

Jesus, Model of Virtues,

Jesus, zealous for souls,

Jesus, our God,

Jesus, our Refuge,

Jesus, Father of the Poor,

Jesus, Treasure of the Faithful,

Jesus, good Shepherd,

Jesus, true Light,

Jesus, eternal Wisdom,

Jesus, infinite Goodness,

Jesus, our Way and our Life,

Jesus, joy of the Angels,

Jesus, King of the Patriarchs,

Jesus, Master of the Apostles,

Jesus, Teacher of the Evangelists,

Jesus, Strength of Martyrs,

Jesus, Light of Confessors, have mercy on us. Jesus, Purity of Virgins, etc.

Jesus, Crown of all Saints,

Be merciful, spare us, O Jesus!

Be merciful, graciously hear us, O Jesus! From all evil, deliver us, O Jesus.

From all sin, etc.

From Thy wrath,

From the snares of the devil,

From the spirit of fornication,

From everlasting death,

From the neglect of Thine inspirations, Through the mystery of Thy holy Incarnation, Through Thy Nativity,

Through Thy Infancy,

Through Thy most divine Life,

Through Thy Labors,

Through Thiy Agony and Passion,

Through Thy Cross and Dereliction,

Through Thy Sufferings,

Through Thy Death and Burial,

Through Thy Resurrection,

Through Thine Ascension,

Through Thine Institution of the Most Holy Eucharist,

Through Thy Joys,

Through Thy Glory,

Lamb of God, Who take away the sins of the world, spare us, O Jesus!

Lamb of God, Who take away the sins of the world, graciously hear us, O Jesus!

Lamb of God, Who take away the sins of the world, have mercy on us, O Jesus!

Jesus, hear us.

Jesus, graciously hear us.

Let us pray.

O Lord Jesus Christ, Thou hast said, “Ask and ye shall receive; seek, and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you:” mercifully attend to our supplications, and grant us the grace of Thy divine charity, that we may ever love Thee with our whole heart, and with all our words and deeds, and may never cease from praising Thee. Make us, O Lord, to have a perpetual fear and love of Thy Holy Name, for Thou never fails to govern those whom Thou solidly establishes in Thy love. Thou, Who lives and reigns forever and ever. R. Amen.

A QUARTER OF AN HOUR BEFORE

THE BLESSED SACRAMENT

To please Me, my dear child, it is not necessary to know much; all that is required is to love Me much, to be deeply sorry for ever having offended Me and desirous of being ever faithful to Me in future.

Speak to Me now as you would to your dearest friend. Tell Me all that now fills your mind and heart. Are there any you wish to commend to Me? Tell Me their names, and tell Me what you would wish Me to do for them. Do not fear, ask for much; I love generous hearts, which, forgetting themselves, wish well to others.

Speak to Me of the poor you wish to comfort; tell Me of the sick that you would wish to see relieved. Ask of Me something for those who have been unkind to you, or who have crossed you. Ask much for them all; commend then with all your heart to Me.

And ask Me many graces for yourself. Are there not many and many you would wish to name, that would make you happier to yourself, more useful and pleasing to others, more worthy of the love of Me, the dearest Lord, Master and Spouse of your soul? Tell Me the whole list of the favours you want of Me. Tell Me them with humility, knowing how poor you are without them, how unable to gain them by yourself; ask for them with much love, that they may make you more pleasing to Me.

With all a child’s simplicity, tell Me how self-seeking you are, how proud, vain, irritable, how cowardly in sacrifice, how lazy in work, uncertain in your good resolutions, and then ask Me to bless and crown your efforts. Poor child, fear not, blush not at the sight of so many failings; there are Saints in Heaven who had the faults you have; they came to Me lovingly, they prayed earnestly to Me, and my grace has made them good and holy in my sight.

You should be mine, body and soul: fear not, therefore, to ask of Me gifts of body and mind, health, judgment, memory, and success-ask for them for my sake; that God may be glorified in all things. I can grant everything, and never refuse to give what may make a soul dearer to Me and better able to fulfil the will of God.

Have you no plans for the future which occupy, perhaps distress, your mind? Tell Me your hopes, your fears. Is it about your future state? your position among my creatures? some good you wish to bring to others? In what shall I help and bless your good will?

And for Me you must have-have you not?-some zeal, some wish to do good to the souls of others. Some, perhaps, who love and care for you, have ceased, almost, to know or care for Me. Shall I give you strength, wisdom and tact, to bring these poor ones close to my Heart again? Have you failed in the past? tell Me how you acted; I will show you why you did not gain all you expected; rely on Me, I will help you, and will guide you to lead others to Me.

And what crosses have you, my dear child? Have they been many and heavy ones? Has some one caused you Jam? some one wounded your self-love? slighted you? injured you? Lay your head upon my breast, and tell Me how you suffered. Have you felt that some have been ungrateful to you, and unfeeling towards you? Tell Me all, and in the warmth of my Heart you will find strength to for-give and even to forget that they have ever wished to pain you.

And what fears have you, my child? My providence shall comfort you; my love sustain you. I am never away from you, never can abandon you. Are some growing cold in the interest and love they had for you? Pray to Me for them; I will restore them to you if it be better for you and your sanctification.

Have you not some happiness to make known to Me? What has happened, since you came to Me last, to console you, to gladden and give you joy? What was it? a mark of true friendship you received? a success unexpected and almost unhoped for ? a fear suddenly taken away from you? and did you remember the while, that in all it was my will, my love, that brought all that your heart has been so glad to have? It was my hand, my dear child, that guided and prepared all for you. Look to Me now, my child, and say, “Dear Jesus, I thank you.”

You will soon leave Me now; what promises can you make Me? Let them be sincere ones, humble ones, full of love and desire to please Me. Tell Me how carefully you will avoid every occasion of sin, drive from you all that leads to harm, and shun the world-the great deceiver of souls.

Promise Me to be kind to the poor; loving for my sake, to friends: forgiving to your enemies, and charitable to all, not in word alone and actions, but in your very thoughts. When you have little love for your neighbour, whom you see, you are forgetting Me who am hidden from you.

Love all my saints; seek the help of your holy patrons. I love to glorify them by giving you much through them. Love, above all, my own sweet glorious Mother-she is your mother; O love her, speak to her often, and she will bring you to Me, and for her sake I will love and bless you more each day.

Return soon to Me again, but come with your heart empty of the world, for I have many more favours to give, more than you can know of; bring your heart so that I may fill it with many gifts of my love. My peace be with you.

SUMMARY OF CHRISTIAN DOCTRINE

I. We are bound to know and to believe—1. That there is one supreme, eternal, infinite God, the Creator of heaven and earth; and that the good will be rewarded by Him for ever in heaven, and the wicked punished for ever in hell.

2. That in God there are three persons, co-eternal, co-equal, God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Ghost.

3. That God the Son, the Second Person of the Most Holy Trinity, was made Man, and died upon the Cross to save us. II. We are bound also to know and to believe the Apostles’ Creed; to have a knowledge of the Commandments of God and of the Church, and of the Holy Sacraments; and to know the Lord’s Prayer and the Hail Mary.

III. We are bound, moreover, to believe whatever God teaches us by His holy Church, who in her teaching cannot deceive us nor be deceived. Her teaching is, amongst other ways, infallibly made known to us by the Roman Pontiff “when he speaks ex cathedra-that is, when, discharging the office of Pastor and teacher of all Christians, he defines, by virtue of his supreme apostolic authority, a doctrine, regarding faith or morals, to be held by the universal Church.”

THE SEVEN SACRAMENTS

1. Baptism: by which we are made Christians, children of God, members of His holy Church, and heirs of heaven.

2. Confirmation: by which we receive the Holy Ghost, to make us strong and perfect Christians, and soldiers of Christ.

3. The Holy Eucharist: which is really and truly the Body and Blood, the Soul and the Divinity, of Jesus Christ, under the appearances of bread and wine. The Holy Eucharist is not only a Sacrament, in which we receive Our Divine Lord for the food and nourishment of our souls, and in which He is really present to be adored upon the altar: it is also a Sacrifice, the Sacrifice of the Holy Mass in which, at the time of consecration, the bread and wine are change into the Body and Blood of Jesus Christ, and in which He is offered up for us to His Eternal Father.

4. Penance: by which the sins committed after Baptism are forgiven.

5. Extreme Unction: which, in dangerous illness, comforts the soul, remits sin, and restores health if God sees it to be expedient.

6. Holy Order: by which Bishops, Priests, and other Ministers of the Church are ordained.

7. Matrimony: which is the Sacrament of Christian Marriage.

THE TWO PRECEPTS OF CHARITY,

1 Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with thy whole heart, and with thy whole soul, and with thy whole mind, and with thy whole strength. 2. Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself.

THE TEN COMMANDMENTS OF GOD

1. Thou shalt not have strange gods before Me. Thou shalt not make to thyself any graven thing; nor the likeness of anything that is in heaven above, or in the earth beneath, nor of those things that are in the waters under the earth. Thou shalt not adore them nor serve them. 2. Thou shalt not take the name of the Lord thy God in vain. 3. Remember that thou keep holy the Sabbath-day. 4. Honour thy father and thy mother. 5. Thou shalt not kill. 6. Thou shalt not commit adultery. 7. Thou shalt not steal. 8. Thou shalt not bear false witness against thy neighbour. 9. Thou shalt not covet thy neighbour’s wife. 10. Thou shalt not covet thy neighbour’s goods.

THE SIX CHIEF COMMANDMENTS OF THE CHURCH

1. To keep the Sundays and Holidays of Obligation holy, by hearing Mass and resting from servile works. 2. To keep the days of Fasting and Abstinence appointed by the Church. 3. To go to Confession at least once a year. 4. To receive the Blessed Sacrament at least once a year, at Easter or thereabouts. 5. To contribute to the support of our Pastors. 6. Not to marry within certain degrees of kindred, nor to solemnize marriage at the forbidden times.

The three Theological Virtues: Faith, Hope, and Charity.

The four Cardinal Virtues: Prudence, Justice, Fortitude, and Temperance.

Seven Gifts of the Holy Ghost: Wisdom, Understanding, Counsel, Fortitude, Knowledge, Piety, the Fear of the Lord. Twelve Fruits of the Holy Ghost: Charity, Joy, Peace, Patience, Benignity, Goodness, Longanimity, Mildness, Faith,

Modesty, Continency, Chastity (Galations v. 22, 23).

SEVEN CORPORAL WORKS OF MERCY: TO FEED THE HUNGRY, TO GIVE DRINK TO THE THIRSTY; TO CLOTHE THE NAKED; TO HARBOUR THE harbourless; to visit the sick; to visit the imprisoned; to bury the dead.

SEVEN SPIRITUAL WORKS OF MERCY: TO COUNSEL THE DOUBTFUL; TO INSTRUCT THE IGNORANT; TO ADMONISH SINNERS; TO COMFORT the afflicted; to forgive offences; to bear wrongs patiently; to pray for the living and the dead.

SEVEN DEADLY SINS: PRIDE, COVETOUSNESS, LUST, ANGER, GLUTTONY, ENVY, SLOTH.-THE OPPOSITE VIRTUES: HUMILITY,

Liberality, Chastity, Meekness, Temperance, Brotherly Love, Diligence.

INDULGENCES

An Indulgence is a remission granted by the Church to those who are free from the guilt of mortal sin, of the whole, or of a part of the temporal punishment due for sins already forgiven.

Explanation.-1. By temporal punishment, as distinguished from eternal punishment, is meant punishment which is due for sin, and which is to be undergone, either in this world, or in the neat world in purgatory. The repentance for sin may be so great as to obtain from God the remission both of the guilt and of all punishment; but often, through the imperfection of our repentance, some punishment remains due for sin after the guilt has been removed. 2. Indulgences are granted on the condition of the performance of certain specified good works; and they cannot be gained by any one who is not free from the guilt of all grievous sins. 3. The Church, in granting an indulgence, offers to God, for the remission of the temporal punishment deserved for our sins, the infinite superabundant merits of Our Lord, and also (but only secondarily) the merits of the Blessed Virgin and the Saints. 4. A Plenary Indulgence is a remission of the whole of the punishment due for forgiven sins; a Partial Indulgence is a remission of some part of that punishment. An Indulgence, granted as Plenary, will, if there be an obstacle to its full effect be only partially obtained.-In the early ages of the Church “canonical penances,” as they were called, were inflicted for sin; and an indulgence of forty days, for example, represents a remission of as much of the temporal punishment as would have been remitted by means of forty days of such canonical penance.

Ordinary conditions for gaining a Plenary Indulgence, besides a particular good work, are, Confession, Holy Communion, and prayer for the Pope’s intention; but weekly Confession suffices for all indulgences obtainable during the week, and more than one may be gained by a single Holy Communion.

THE CHURCH’S LAW CONCERNING MARRIAGE

1. In consequence of the Papal decree Ne Temere, every marriage between Catholics, or between Catholic and a nonCatholic, must be celebrated before a Bishop or Priest duly authorized and two witnesses. Such marriages if otherwise celebrated-e.g. before the Registrar, an unauthorized Catholic clergyman, or any minister of the non-Catholic sects- may be binding legal contracts under the civil law; but they are null and void before God, and the parties are not in the sight of God really husband and wife.

2. Catholics who apostatize, either formally or equivalently, are not thereby withdrawn from the Church’s jurisdiction in this matter.

3. These rules have nothing to do with marriages between non-Catholics neither of whom has been baptized in the Catholic Church.

4. As ecclesiastical law requires the publication of banns in the church, persons intending to. marry should give notice to the parish priest at least three weeks before the date proposed for the marriage.

5. The solemn celebration of marriages is forbidden from Ash-Wednesday till after Low Sunday, and from the 1st Sunday in Advent till the day after the Epiphany.

MIXED MARRIAGES

A “mixed marriage” (that is, a marriage between a Catholic and one who, though baptized, does not profess the Catholic Faith) may not take place without a dispensation; and the dispensation cannot lawfully be given unless for a sufficiently grave reason, and subject to the following conditions-1. That all the children that may be born of the marriage shall be baptized, and brought up, in the Catholic Faith. 2. That the Catholic party shall have full liberty for the practice of the Catholic religion. 3. That the Catholic party shall endeavour to convert the other to the Catholic Faith. 4. That no religious marriage ceremony shall the place elsewhere than in the Catholic Church.

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Simple Prayers For Holy Communion

INDEX

BEFORE HOLY COMMUNION

Prayer for Help.-O my God, help me to make a good Communion. Mary, my dearest mother, pray to Jesus for me. My dear angel guardian, lead me to the altar of God.

Act of Faith.-O God, because Thou hast said it, I believe that I shall receive the Sacred Body of Jesus Christ to eat, and His Precious Blood to drink. My God, 1 believe this with all my heart.

Act of Humility.-My God, I confess that I am a poor sinner. I am not worthy to receive the Body and Blood of Jesus Christ on account of my sins. Lord, I am not worthy that Thou shouldst enter under my roof; say but the word, and my soul shall be healed.

Act of Sorrow.-My God, I detest all the sins of my life, I am sorry for them, because they have offended Thee, my God, who art so good. I resolve never to commit sin any more. My good God, pity me, have mercy on me, forgive me. Act of Adoration.-O Jesus, great God, present on the Altar, I bow down before Thee. I adore Thee. Act of Love and Desire.- Sweet Jesus, I love Thee, I desire with all my heart to receive Thee. My most sweet Jesus, come into my poor soul, and give me Thy flesh to eat and Thy Blood to drink. Give me Thy whole Self, Body, Blood, Soul and Divinity, that I may live for ever with Thee.

AFTER HOLY COMMUNION

Before reading the following prayers it is highly recommended to spend a few minutes in adoration. Act of Faith.-O Jesus, I believe that I have received Thy flesh to eat and Thy Blood to drink, because Thou hast said it, and Thy word is true.

Act of Adoration.- O Jesus, my God, my Creator, I adore Thee, because from Thy hands I came and with Thee I am to be happy for ever.

Act of Humility.-O Jesus, I am but dust and ashes, and yet Thou hast come to me, that my poor heart may speak to Thee.

Act of Love.- Sweet Jesus, I love Thee. I love Thee with all my heart. Thou knowest that I love Thee, and wish to love Thee daily more and more.

Act of Thanksgiving.-My good Jesus, I thank Thee with all my heart. How good, how kind Thou art to me, sweet Jesus. Blessed be Jesus in the most Holy Sacrament of the Altar.

Act of offering.-O Jesus, receive my poor offering. Jesus Thou hast given Thyself to me, now let me give myself to Thee.-I give Thee my body that it may be chaste and pure.-I give Thee my soul, that it may be free from sin.-I give Thee my heart, that it may always love Thee.-I give Thee every breath that I shall breathe, and especially my last.-I give Thee myself in life and in death, that I may be with Thee for ever and ever.

Remember the words of Jesus,

“ASK AND YOU SHALL RECEIVE,” and

PRAY FOR YOURSELF

O Jesus, wash away my sins with Thy Precious Blood.

O Jesus, the struggle against temptation is not yet finished. My Jesus, when temptation comes near me, make me strong against it. In the moment of temptation may I always say, “Jesus, mercy!” “Mary, help!”

O Jesus, may I lead a good life! May I die a happy death. May I receive Thee before I die. May I say when I am dying, “Jesus, Mary, Joseph, I give you my heart and my soul.”

Listen now for a moment to Jesus Christ, perhaps He has something to say to you. There may be some promise you have made and broken, which He wishes you to make again and keep.

Answer Jesus in your heart, and tell Him all your troubles.

Then

PRAY FOR OTHERS

O Jesus, have mercy on Thy Holy Church; take care of it. O Jesus, have pity on poor sinners, and save them from hell. O Jesus, bless my father, my mother, my brothers and sisters, and all I ought to pray for, as Thy kind Heart knowest how to bless them.

O Jesus, have pity on the poor souls burning in the flames of Purgatory, and give them eternal rest.

BEFORE LEAVING THE CHURCH

Sweet Jesus, I am going away for a time, but I trust not without Thee. Thou art with me by Thy grace. I will never leave Thee by mortal sin. I do not fear to do so, though I am so weak, because I have such hope in Thee. Give me grace to persevere. Amen.

ANIMA CHRISTI PRAYER OF ST. IGNATIUS

Soul of Christ, sanctify me.

Body of Christ, save me.

Blood of Christ, inebriate me.

Water from the side of Christ, wash me.

Passion of Christ, strengthen me.

O good Jesus, hear me.

Within Your wounds hide me.

Suffer me not to be separated from Thee.

From the evil enemy defend me.

At the hour of death call me.

And bid me come unto Thee.

That with Thy saints I may praise Thee.

For ever and ever. Amen.

Indulgence of 300 days each time.-7 years after Holy Communion.-Plenary, on the ordinary conditions, to those who recite it daily during a month.

(Pen., January 9, 1854.)

PRAYER BEFORE A CRUCIFIX

Behold, O kind and most sweet Jesus, I cast myself upon my knees in Thy sight, and with the most fervent desire of my soul I pray and beseech Thee, that Thou wouldst impress upon my heart lively sentiments of Faith, Hope, and Charity, true repentance for my sins, and a firm purpose of amendment, while, with deep affection and grief of soul, I ponder within myself and mentally contemplate Thy five most Precious Wounds; having before my eyes that which David spoke in prophecy of Thee, O good Jesus: They have pierced my hands and feet; they have numbered all my bones.

An indulgence of 10 years may be gained by reciting this prayer before a crucifix; besides, a plenary indulgence may be gained by those who have received the Sacraments and who say one Pater, Ave and Gloria for the Pope. (Pen., February 2, 1934.)

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Simplicity of Life

FROM THE WRITINGS OF ST. FRANCIS DE SALES. “LIVE IN JOY, BRIMFUL OF GOD AND OF HIS LOVE!”

COMPILED BY CONSTANCE DAVIDSON

INDEX

RISING AND THE MORNING OFFERING

“We should make use of the night for sleep, each one according to his constitution, so far as is necessary for being usefully awake during the day. And I think there is virtue in the care which we take to go to bed betimes in the evening, in order to awake and arise early in the morning. Certainly the early morning is the most beautiful, the most agreeable, and the least distracted time of the day; the very birds do then invite us to awake and praise God; so that early rising is helpful both to health and to holiness.

In the morning, as a general preparation for all the works of the day, you should:

1. Thank God and adore Him profoundly for preserving you during the past night.

2. Consider that the present day is given you that you may gain the future day of eternity, and make a firm resolution to employ the day well.

3. Forecast what affairs, what intercourse and what occasions you may meet with during the day to serve God, and what temptations may befall you to offend Him. For example, if I foresee that I shall have to treat of some matter with a person who is passionate and quick-tempered, not only will I resolve to refrain from anything that may offend Him, but I will prepare mild words to prevent his anger.

4. This done, humble yourself before God, and, as if you were holding your heart in your hands, offer it to Him, imploring Him to take it under His protection.

5. Invoke Our Lady, your good Angel, and the Saints, that they may assist you.

But all these spiritual actions should be done briefly and fervently, before you leave your room, if it be possible; so that by means of them, all that you do throughout the day may be watered with the blessing of God.

MENTAL PRAYER

“Above all I recommend to you prayer of the mind and heart, especially that which has for its subject the life and Passion of Our Lord; for by beholding Him often in meditation, your whole soul will be filled with Him. As children by listening to their mothers, and prattling with them, learn to speak their language; so we, by keeping close to the Saviour in meditation, and observing His words, His actions, and His affections, shall learn to speak, to act, and to will like Him.

Spend a certain time in meditation every day, if possible in the early part of your morning, because your mind will be less distracted and more refreshed after the repose of the night.

When you have finished this prayer of the heart, you must take care not to give any jolt to your heart, lest you spill the balm which you have received by means of your prayer; I mean by this, that you must keep silence for a little while, if possible, and moved your heart quite gently from your prayer to your occupations.

The meditation must be closed by a little nosegay of devotion. Those who have been walking in a beautiful garden do not leave it willingly without taking away with them four or five flowers, to inhale their perfume and carry them about during the day; even so, when we have considered some mystery in meditation, we should choose one or two points, to remember them throughout the day, and to inhale their perfume spiritually.

You must accustom yourself to know how to pass from prayer to all sorts of actions which your vocation and profession justly and lawfully requires of you, though they seem very far removed from the affections which you have received in prayer. I mean that the advocate must learn to pass from prayer to pleading; the merchant to business; the married woman to the duties of her state and to the cares of her household, with so much gentleness and tranquility that the spirit be not disturbed thereby. For, since both are according to the will of God, we must make the passage from one to the other in a spirit of humility and devotion.

Do not be distressed if sometimes, or even very often, you are not consoled by your meditations. Persevere gently, humbly, patiently, without forcing your mind, and read a book when you are fatigued; read a little, then meditate, then read a little again, and again meditate. Take it as a rule that the grace of meditation cannot be gained by any effort of the mind but by a meek and loving perseverance bounding in humility.

Although two or three times, putting myself in the presence of God without preparation, I found that I was extremely near to Him, yet I would not have dared to make a custom of taking myself away from the high road in order to make this the ordinary one. I love the way of those who have gone before us and of the simple; and to make a custom of no preparation, no thanksgiving, no offering, no express prayer at the end, is somewhat repugnant to me.

The sacred gift of prayer is in the right hand of God; He is only waiting until you have emptied yourself of self, of this love of your body and of your will, to give it to you. He speaks to ears that stoop low before God and man.

If we can speak to God, let us speak; if we are unable to speak, let us remain silent in His presence. Our patience will please Him; and presently, in wonderment we shall see Him take us by the hand, talk with us, and lead us hither and thither through the bypaths of His Garden of Prayer.”

THE SACRIFICE OF THE MASS

“I have not yet said anything to you of the Sun of spiritual exercises, which is the most holy, sacred, and supreme Sacrifice and Sacrament of the Mass, the centre of the Christian religion, the heart of devotion, the soul of piety, an ineffable mystery which contains within itself the abyss of divine charity, and by which God, applying Himself really to us, communicates to us munificently His graces and favours.

Prayer made in union with this divine Sacrifice has an, unspeakable force. Make every effort, therefore, to assist every day at Holy Mass, so that, together with the priest, you may offer the sacrifice of your Redeemer to God His Father, for yourself and for the whole Church. If for some unavoidable reason you cannot be actually present at the celebration of this supreme Sacrifice, at least let your heart be there, that you may assist at it by a spiritual presence.”

HOLY COMMUNION

“Begin the evening before to prepare yourself for Holy Communion by many aspirations and movements of love. If you should awake during the night, fill your heart and your mouth straightway with some fragrant words, by means of which your soul may be perfumed to receive the Beloved.

In the morning, rise with great joy because of the happiness for which you hope, and go with great confidence, but also with great humility, to receive this Heavenly Food, which nourishes your immortal life.

Having received Him, stir up your heart to come and do homage to this King; treat with Him of the affairs of your soul, give Him as warm a welcome as you can, and conduct yourself in such a way that it may be known by all your actions that God is with you.

If worldlings ask you why you communicate so often, tell them that it is to learn to love God, to be purified from your imperfections, to be delivered from your miseries; to be consoled in your afflictions, and to be strengthened in your weakness. Tell them that those who have not many worldly affairs should communicate often, because they have the opportunity to do so; and that those who have many worldly affairs should do likewise, because they have need of it; and that he who labours much and is heavily burdened, should also eat solid food and oftentimes.”

EJACULATORY PRAYERS

“Aspire very often to God, by short but ardent movements of your heart; admire His beauty, invoke His help, give Him your heart a thousand times a day, fix your interior eyes upon His sweetness, give your hand to Him, as a little child to its father, that He may lead you. Our soul giving itself to secret and familiar intercourse with God, will become all perfumed with His perfections; and this exercise is not difficult, for it can be interwoven with all our affairs and occupations, without any detriment to them whatsoever,

Do as little children do, who with one hand cling to their father, and with the other gather strawberries or blackberries along the hedges; for in like manner, while you are gathering and handling the goods of this world with one hand, cling fast always with the other to the hand of your heavenly Father, turning to Him from time to time,, to see if your doings or your occupations be pleasing to Him.

In this exercise of spiritual retirement and ejaculatory prayers lies the great work of devotion; it can supply the lack of all other prayers, but the failure of this can scarcely be made good by any other means.”

THE ANGELS AND SAINTS

Since God very often sends us inspirations by His Angels, we ought frequently to send Him our aspirations by the same agency. Let us join our hearts to these celestial spirits; and as the little nightingales learn to sing in the company of the older ones, so, by sacred intercourse with the Saints, we shall learn better. how to pray and sing the Divine praises.

Make yourself very familiar with the Angels, see them often invisibly present in your life, invoke them often, praise them, and make use of their assistance in all your affairs, whether spiritual or temporal, so that they may cooperate with you.

SPIRITUAL READING

“Have always at hand some good book of devotion, and read a little of it every day with great devotion, as though you were reading missives sent to you by the Saints from heaven, to show you the way there and give you the courage to walk along it.

Read also the histories and lives of the Saints, in which you will see, as in a mirror, the Christian life portrayed; and adapt their actions to your profit according to your vocation. For though many of the actions of the Saints are not to be imitated in every respect by those living in the world, yet all can be imitated to a greater or lesser extent.”

EXAMEN AND NIGHT PRAYERS

“As to the examination of conscience, which should always be made before going to bed, everyone knows how it should be done.

1. We thank God for having preserved us during the past day.

2. We examine how we have behaved ourselves during all the hours of the day; and in order to do so more easily, we consider where, with whom, and in what we have been employed.

3. If we find that we have done any good, we thank God for it; if, on the other hand, we have done any evil in thought, word, or deed, we ask pardon of God, with a resolution to confess it at the first opportunity, and carefully to amend it.

4. After that, we commend to the care of Divine Providence our body, our soul, the Church, our relations, our friends; we ask Our Lady, our good Angel, and the Saints to watch over us and for us; and with God’s blessing we proceed to take the repose which He has willed to be necessary for us.

This exercise, like that of the Morning Offering, must never be forgotten; for by the morning offering, you open the windows of your soul to the Sun of justice, and by that of the evening, you close them against the powers of darkness.”

SOCIAL INTERCOURSE

“To seek the society of others and to shun it, are two blameworthy extremes in the devotion of those who live in the world. To shun the society of others savours of disdain and contempt for our neighbour, and to seek it is a sign of idleness and futility. You must love your neighbour as yourself; to show that you love him, you must not avoid being with him; and to show that you love yourself, you must remain within yourself when you are there. Now you are within yourself when you are alone.

If then there is no cause for you to seek the company of others, or to receive it at home, remain within yourself and hold converse with your heart; but if company come to you, or some good reason invite you to seek it, go in God’s name, and see your neighbour willingly and cheerfully.

Observe well the precept of the saints, which every one of them has observed who desired to be a saint: to speak little or not at all of ourselves, or of what pertains to self. Be silent unless the glory of the Master, as may happen, requires you to speak of yourself ; and if it does require you, speak briefly, faithfully, observing simplicity. The love of ourselves often dazzles our eyes; our vision must be very steady and just, to avoid being deceived when we look at ourselves.

Touching worldly repartee and vivacity of mind, which you find so hard to resist, you must make up your mind that at any cost you will mortify yourself in this matter; often make the sign of the cross on your mouth, so that you may open it only for God. This merriment of spirit is certainly sometimes the occasion of vanity, and the tip of the mind can betoken more scorn than the tip of the nose; our words as well as our looks can be arch. Walking on tiptoe in body or in mind is not safe, and if, we stumble the fall is all the worse.

I quite approve of speaking little, provided that this little which you say is said graciously and charitably, and not morosely or affectedly. Yes, speak little and sweetly, little and well, little and simply, little and sincerely, little and kindly.

In conversation, when those with whom you are conversing do not keep quite strictly to the rule of devotion, show no disdain. Not only must you be devout and love devotion, but you must make it lovable and useful to everyone. In a word, you should, as far as possible, make your devotion attractive.

Take care not to let yourself be moody and out of humour with those about you, lest, attributing this to devotion, they despise devotion; on the contrary, give them the greatest pleasure and satisfaction you can.

The less we live after our own choice in our actions, the more solid is our devotion, we must sometimes leave our Lord in order to please others for love of Him.

Keep up the fight against your impatience perseveringly, always practise that holy and gentle “debonnairete” especially with those you find the most provocative, and God will bless your efforts.

You will often be amongst the children of this world who, as is their wont, mock all they see or think they see in you that is not according to their own miserable way of thinking. Do not take the trouble to dispute with them, show no displeasure at their attacks, but merrily laugh at their laughter of you; be above their contempt, jest at their remonstrance, gracefully mock their mockeries, and taking no heed of them, walk always with a light heart in the service of God.

You see that necessary employments, according to each one’s vocation, do not diminish Divine love, but increase it and gild, as it were, the work of devotion. The nightingale loves her melody no less when she makes her pauses than when she sings; the devout heart that loves not less when she turns to exterior necessities than when she prays: her silence and her speech, her action and her contemplation, her employment and her rest, equally sing in her the hymn of her love.”

RECREATION

“It is necessary sometimes to refresh our spirit and our body also, by some kind of recreation. Cassian relates that one day a hunter found St. John the Evangelist holding a partridge in his hand, which he was stroking by way of recreation; the hunter asked him how he, being so great a man, could waste his time upon a thing so mean and trivial. And St. John said to him: “Why dost thou not always carry thy bow stretched ?” “For fear,” replied the hunter, “lest being always stretched it should lose its power of resilience, which is essential to its usefulness.” “Do not be astonished, then,” replied the Apostle, “if I sometimes relax the application and attention of my spirit, to take a little recreation, in order to apply myself afterwards more earnestly to contemplation.” There can be no doubt that it is a fault to be so rigorous and unsociable as not to be willing to take any recreation oneself, or permit others to do so.

To take the air, to go for a walk, to take part in cheerful and friendly conversations, to play or sing, to go hunting, are recreations so proper that, to make a good use of them, we need only use ordinary prudence, which gives to all things order, time, place and measure. Games, in which the success serves as a reward and recompense for skill and industry of body or of mind, are recreations good in themselves and lawful. The only thing that we must guard against is excess; for if we spend too much time in a game, it is no longer recreation, but occupation.

But above all, be careful not to set your affection on such things; for however proper a recreation may be, it is a defect to set your heart on it. I do not say that we should not take pleasure in a game, whilst we are actually playing it, for otherwise it would not be a recreation; but I say that we must not set our affection on games to such an extent that we long for them, occupy ourselves with them, and become too eager about them.”

FRIENDSHIP

Love everyone with a great love of charity, but have no friendship save with those who can communicate with you in virtuous things. I speak not here of the simple love of charity, for we ought to have this for all men; but I speak of spiritual friendship. Do not form friendships of any other kind, I mean friendships of your own choice; for you must not forsake or disregard the friendships which nature and former obligations constrain you to cultivate with relations, with connections, with benefactors, with neighbours and others; I speak of those which you choose yourself.

Many will tell you, perhaps, that we should not have any sort of particular affection and friendship, because it occupies the heart, distracts the mind, and begets envy; but they are mistaken in their counsels.

He who says all, excludes nothing, and yet a man may be wholly God’s, wholly his father’s, wholly his mother’s, wholly his prince’s, wholly his commonwealth’s, his children’s, his friends.’ So that being all to each, yet he is all to all. This so happens because the duty by which a man is all to one, is not contrary to the duty by which a man is all to another.

Man gives himself wholly by love, and gives himself as much as he loves. He is therefore in a sovereign manner given to God when he loves the Divine goodness sovereignly. And having once made this donation of himself, he is to love nothing that can remove his heart from God. Now never does any love take our hearts from God, save that which is contrary unto Him.

For those who live in the world, and who embrace true virtue, it is necessary for them to form holy and sacred friendships with one another; for by this means they encourage one another, help one another, and lead one another on to good. Those who are in the world have need of friendships, in order to walk securely and help one another in the many difficult places through which they have to pass. St. Thomas, like all sound philosophers, avows that friendship is a virtue: and he speaks of particular friendship, since, as he says, perfect friendship cannot extend to many persons. Perfection, then, does not consist in having no friendship at all, but in having only that which is good, holy, and sacred.”

SPIRITUAL DIRECTOR

“Do you wish in good earnest to set out on the way to devotion? Seek out some good man to guide and conduct you; it is the admonition of admonitions. Since it is of such great importance that you should go with a good guide on this holy journey of devotion, pray to God with great earnestness, to provide you with one who may be according to His heart, and have no doubt; for even though He should have to send an Angel from heaven, as He did to the young Tobias, He will give you one that is good and faithful.

And indeed, this guide ought always to be an Angel in your eyes; that is to say, when you have found him, do not look upon him as a mere man, nor trust in him as such, nor in his human knowledge, but in God Who will favour you and speak to you by means of this man, putting into his heart and into his mouth whatsoever shall be requisite for your happiness; so that you ought to listen to him as to an Angel who comes down from heaven to conduct you thither.

Treat him with an open heart, in all sincerity and fidelity, manifesting clearly to him your good and your evil without feint or dissimulation; and by this means your good will be examined and rendered more secure, and your evil will be corrected and remedied; and you will be eased and strengthened in your afflictions, moderated and regulated in your consolations. Have the greatest confidence in him, mingled with a holy reverence, yet so that the reverence diminish not your confidence, nor your confidence hinder in any way your reverence; confide in him with the respect of a daughter for her father, and respect him with the confidence of a son in his mother; in a word, this friendship must be strong and sweet, altogether holy, sacred, divine and spiritual.

And for this reason, choose one among a thousand; for there are fewer than can be imagined, who are fitted for this office. He must be full of charity, of knowledge, and of prudence ; if one of these three qualities be wanting in him, there is danger. But I say to you once more: pray to God to give you such a one, and, when you have obtained him, bless His Divine Majesty, remain constant and do not seek for any others, but go on, your way simply, humbly, and trustfully, for you will have a very prosperous journey.”

RETREAT AND PREPARATION FOR DEATH

“There is no clock, be it never so good, but must be wound up twice a day, in the morning and in the evening; and then, in addition to this, at least once a year it must be taken to pieces, in order that the rust which it has contracted may be removed, the strained parts readjusted, and those which are worn out repaired. So he that has a true care of his dear heart ought to wind it up daily to God in the morning and in the evening; and in addition to this, he ought, at least once a year, to take it to pieces, and examine all its parts in detail, in order to repair all the defects which may be found there. This exercise will renew your strength impaired by time, will warm your heart, will make your good resolutions grow green again, and the virtues of your soul blossom anew.

Your life has been spent in the world, and in the management of its affairs. Now, it is not possible to live in the world, though we but touch it with our feet, without getting soiled by its dust. So let us begin our preparation by washing our soul of its affections to all that is of earth, before receiving the hospitality of our good God. We are to be transplanted from this wretched land to the land of life, and all the ties we have contracted here must be gently loosened and unbound. Not to have said goodbye, or to have made poor provision beforehand, is excusable in those who depart suddenly, but it is not so with those who know the probable time of their journey; they must make all things ready, and without impatience, tranquilly await the appointed hour.

Behold, I beseech you, this soul who, as a heavenly nightingale shut up in the cage of his body, in which he cannot at will sing the benedictions of his eternal love, knows that he could better trill and practise his delicious song if he could gain the air, to enjoy his liberty and the society of other nightingales, amongst the gay and flowery hills of the land of the blessed; wherefore he cries: “Alas! O Lord of my life, by Thy sweet goodness, deliver poor me from the cage of my body, free me from this little prison, to the end that released from this bondage, I may fly to my dear companions, who expect me there above in heaven, to make me one of their choirs, and environ me with their joy. There, Lord, according my voice to theirs, I with them will make up a sweet harmony of delicious airs and words, singing, praising, and blessing Thy mercy!”

MY DUTY TOWARDS GOD

SIMPLICITY

“‘Simplicity is nothing else than an act of pure and simple charity, having one only aim and end, which is to acquire the love of God; and our soul is simple when in all that we do or desire we have no other aim.

Learn from the dove to love God in simplicity of heart, having but one single aim and object in all that you do. Do not, however, only imitate the simple love of those birds in their having always only one mate, for whom alone they do everything, and whom alone they wish to please; but imitate them also in the simplicity with which they express and show their love. They do not practise little mincing ways, but only coo gently by the side of their mates, happy enough just to rest quietly in their presence.

Our Lord says: “Unless you become simple as little children, you shall not enter into the kingdom of My Father.” A child when very young is in a state of such simplicity that he has no knowledge at all but of his mother. He has one only love, which is for his mother; and in that love, one only aim and desire-his mother’s breast, when he is upon that beloved breast, he wants nothing more. The soul which has attained perfect simplicity has only one love, which is for God. In this love it has one only aim-to rest upon the bosom of the heavenly Father, and there to abide like a loving Child, leaving all care of self to that good Father.

Children are, generally speaking, quite free from care, in the presence of their parents. Love occupies them sufficiently without anything else. Those whose one desire is to please the Divine Lover, have neither inclination nor leisure to turn back upon themselves; their minds turn continually in the direction whither love carries them.

This is simplicity, a virtue which looks straight to God, without ever suffering any admixture of self-interest.

Holy Simplicity troubles about nothing, but remains modest and tranquil in its certainty that God knows its desire, which is to please Him; that is enough.

Meekness, inward humility and simplicity are the three dove-like virtues which the Divine Bridegroom looks for in His lovers. Go on then practising them, keeping your heart, amid the turmoil of the world, where it aspires to be, in the bosom of God.”

CONFIDENCE

“The soul which has surrendered itself has nothing else to do but to rest in the arms of Our Lord like a child on his mother’s breast. When she puts him down to walk, he walks until she takes him up again, and when she wishes to carry him, he allows her to do so. He neither knows nor thinks where he is going, but allows himself to be carried or led wherever his mother pleases.

Even as a tender mother, leading with her her little babe, assists and supports him as need requires, letting him now and then venture a step by himself in less dangerous and very smooth places, now taking him by the hand and steadying him, now taking him up in her arms and bearing him, so Our Lord has a continual care to conduct His children, making them walk before Him, reaching them His hand in difficulties, and bearing them Himself in such weariness as He sees otherwise insupportable to them.

Let us sweetly hide our littleness in God’s greatness; and as a little chicken, covered over with the wings of its mother, lies so warm and safe, let us lay our hearts to rest under the sweet and love-full Providence of Our Lord, and warmly shelter ourselves under His holy protection.

See this little child cleaving to the neck of his mother. If one offer to take him thence to lay him in his cradle, it being high time, he struggles and disputes as far as he is able, in order not to leave that beloved bosom; and if he is made to let go with one hand, with the other he grapples, and if he is carried quite off, he falls a-weeping; and keeping his heart and his eyes where he cannot keep his body, he continues crying out for his dear mother, till by rocking he is brought to sleep.

The will which is dead to herself, that she may live in that of God, is without any particular will-as one might speak of a little child, who has not yet got the use of his will to love or desire anything save the bosom and face of his dear mother. For he does not think of willing anything, except only to be in the arms of his mother, with whom he thinks himself to be one thing. He never troubles himself as to how he shall conform his will to his mother’s, for he perceives not his own, nor does he think he has any, leaving all the care to his mother, to go, to do, and to will, what she judges profitable for him.

Nothing is more desirable to the little child, whether he wake or sleep, than his father’s bosom and his mother’s breast.

Thus should we be, pliable to God’s good pleasure, as though we were of wax, not giving our thoughts leave to wander in wishing and willing things, but leaving God to will and do them for us as He pleases.

TRANQUILITY

“Try to keep your soul in peace and in tranquility. For this you must, on rising in the morning, begin that exercise; doing your actions quite quietly, forecasting in the morning what you have to do, taking pains throughout the day not to let your spirit dissipate itself; continually observe whether you are in this state of tranquility, and as soon as you see yourself out of it, take great care to put yourself back into it.

At the same time, I do not mean that your spirit is to be always on the strain after this peace; for all must be done with a simplicity of heart entirely founded on love, keeping yourself with Our Lord as a little child with its father: and when it happens that you commit faults, whatever they may be, ask Our Lord’s pardon for them very quietly, saying to Him that you are well assured He loves you dearly and will pardon you; and this always simply and sweetly.

Do as little children do; whilst they feel their mothers holding them by the sleeve, they go boldly and run about, and do not alarm themselves when the weakness of their legs makes them slip a little to one side; in the same way, as long as you perceive that God holds you by the goodwill to serve Him which He has given you, walk boldly, and do not alarm yourself about those little baulks and stumbles you make, and do not distress yourself about them, provided that at intervals you throw yourself into His arms, and kiss Him with the kiss of charity. Walk joyously and openheartedly, as far as you can.

It is not only requisite to rest on Divine Providence in all that concerns temporal matters, but still more in all that belongs to our spiritual life and to our perfection. It is certainly only the too great care which we take of ourselves, which makes us lose our tranquility of mind and ruffles our unsteady temper ; for as soon as any contradiction arises, or if we only notice in ourselves some small sign of an unmortified spirit, or if we commit the most trifling fault, it seems to us that all is lost! Is it so great a wonder that we sometimes find ourselves stumbling on the path of our perfection?

We must take all the care which God wishes us to take about perfecting ourselves, and yet leave the care of arriving at perfection entirely to Him. God wishes our care to be a calm and peaceful one; that we should repose in. His Fatherly care, trying as far as possible to keep our soul at peace, for the place of God is in peace, and in the peaceful and restful heart.

You know that when the lake is very calm, and when the winds do not agitate its waters, on a very serene night, the sky with all its stars is so perfectly reflected in it, that looking down into its depths the beauty of the heavens is as clearly visible as if we looked up on high. So when our soul is perfectly calm, unstirred, and untroubled by the winds of superfluous cares, unevenness of spirit and inconstancy, it is very capable of reflecting in itself the image of Our Lord.

Let it be enough that God wishes us to obey, and in this way we shall bring down our minds to walk simply in the happy path of a holy and tranquil humility, which will render us infinitely pleasing to God.

Do not think Our Lord is far from you while you are in the midst of the bustle and pressure of affairs, and that were you in the delights of a tranquil life this would not be so. Such is not the tranquility which draws Him near. Not the feeling we have of His sweetness, but the loyalty of our love, and the welcome we give to the accomplishment in us of His holy will, is what most attracts Him.

MY DUTY TOWARDS MY NEIGHBOUR

SWEETNESS OF HEART

“Let us make our way by the lowly valleys of the little and humble virtues; there we shall see roses amid thorns, charity shining forth amid inward and outward afflictions; the lilies of purity, the violets of mortification.

Above all, I love these three little virtues: sweetness of heart, poverty of spirit, and simplicity of life; and those homely good works of visiting the sick, serving the poor, consoling the afflicted and the like.

Be very sweet and gracious amidst all the affairs you have to see to, for everybody looks to you for good example. It is easy to steer one’s course when there are no adverse winds to be opposed-to pass an uneventful life—but amid the hustle of affairs, as amid the winds, it is very difficult to keep on the right track. For this reason you must be very watchful over yourself, your actions, and your intentions, always showing that your heart is true, just, sweet, humble, and generous.

Study but little what others do, or what will happen to them; but regard them with a simple, kind, gentle, and affectionate eye. Do not require more perfection from them than from yourself, and do not be surprised at the diversity of imperfections; for imperfection is not more imperfection for being extravagant and odd. Do as the bees do; suck honey from all flowers and herbs.

Remain in peace, walk faithfully in the way wherein God has placed you; take good care holily to give satisfaction to those whom He has made your companions; and like a little honeybee, while you faithfully make the honey of sacred devotion, make duly also the wax of your domestic affairs. For if one is sweet to the taste of Our Lord, Who being in this world eat butter and honey; the other also is to His honour, since it serves to make the lighted candles of edification of our neighbour.

CHARITY AND GENTLENESS

“Perfumers, though out of their shops, bear about with them for a long time the scent of the perfumes which they have handled. In like manner, those who have been in the cabinet of heavenly ointments, that is in holy charity, keep for some time afterwards the scent of it.

Only this you lacked. Your zeal was quite good, but defective in that it was a little bitter, a little severe, punctilious, restless. Now it is purified of all this; henceforth it will be suave, mild, gracious, helpful to others.

Be good in bearing the imperfections of all, especially of those at home.

I must tell you the truth. I always fear that with regard to things which are not of the essence of our salvation, these desires may be partially from self-love and for the gratification of our own will, these keen, desires for the advancement of others in perfection; and we may let ourselves be so taken up with them, as not to leave room in our souls, for what is essential to ourselves, humility, meekness of heart, and such-like. Such are my fears in such desires. Do not fall into them; do not importune those whom you want to persuade to this perfection; do not even let them see that you want it, for that would only hinder the matter. Throw little holy thoughts and inspirations into their minds now and again, without any apparent intent; in this way you gain much more than in any other, above all if you add prayer.

Do not undertake too many vigils or austerities. Go rather by the way of the love of God and of your neighbour, of humility and cheerful gaiety.

I never vary in my opinion that we ought not to be sowing our neighbour’s field, however beautiful it may be, whilst our own is in need of seed!

Why dig your neighbour’s garden when your own wants digging? If you divide your attention in this way, your own plot will never be perfect.

Take particular care that your servants and family are not inconvenienced by your remaining too long in church, practising too great retirement, and neglecting the care of your household; or, as sometimes happens, making oneself the controller of other .people’s actions.

I persist always in telling you that you ought to serve God where you are, and do what you are doing. Not that I would wish to hinder the growth of your good works, nor the continual purification of your heart; but do what you are doing and do it better, if you can.

My child, while God wishes you to be in the world, for love of Him abide there willingly and cheerfully, for we are happy in doing His will, since it is all we care about. Abide in peace, then, and perform faithfully the duty which keeps you in the world. Believe me, in so doing you will please God better than by a hundred quittings of it through your own will and inclination.”

MY DUTY TOWARDS MYSELF

PERSEVERANCE

“Persevere faithfully in overcoming yourself in the little daily contradictions which you feel. Know that God wishes nothing else of you save what he sends at the moment, and do not be on the look-out for other things. Have no desire to be other than what you are, but have a strong desire to be thoroughly what you are. Few souls have a liking for what is their duty, and God’s will for them!

What is the use of building castles in Spain when we have to live in France? It is my old lesson and you know it well, but tell me, my child, do you practise it well?

It is not possible to be mistress of your soul and hold it in your hand from the very start. Be content to gain from time to time some little advantage over our rebel passions. We must bear with our neighbour, but first of all we must bear with ourselves and have patience with our imperfections.

You ask me to send you something about peace of soul and humility. Of a truth you cannot have one without the other. Self-love and self-esteem are the only things that trouble us. We are worried, disappointed, impatient, when we fall into some imperfection or sin; because we thought ourselves resolute, steady, good for something; and now we find it is all a mistake! If we only knew ourselves, instead of being surprised at our fall, our astonishment would be that we had not fallen, and were still on our feet!

We must be sorry for faults with a repentance which is strong, settled, constant, tranquil, but not troubled, unquiet, or fainthearted.

I seem to see you agitated and restlessly anxious in your seeking after perfection. But I tell you in truth, as it is written in the Book of Kings, God is not in the strong wind, nor in the earthquake, nor in those fires, but in the soft and tranquil breathing of a wind that can scarce be felt. Eagerness, agitation, does not help on an undertaking at all. Here the desire is good, but let it be without agitation. It is this eagerness which I expressly forbid you, as the motherimperfection of all imperfections.

“I should like this or that, I should be better here or there”-these are all temptations. Our Lord knows well what He does; let us do what He wills, let us stay where He has placed us.

This temptation of turning against the world, when we have of necessity to be in it, is a very severe trial. The Providence of God is wiser than we. It seems to us that if we change the ship, we shall get on better ; yes, if we change ourselves. I am a sworn enemy of these useless, dangerous and bad desires, for although what we desire is good, the desire nevertheless is bad, since God does not wish this kind of good for us, but another, in which His will is that we should exercise ourselves.

Never harbour the temptation to sadness, it is the enemy of all devotion. Why should there be sadness in a servant of Him Who will be our joy forever? Nothing but sin ought to make us sad; and even our sadness for sin is not without the holy joy and consolation that follows contrition. Abide strong in peace, and feed your heart with the suavity of heavenly love, without which our lives lack happiness.

If you are grafting a rose tree, and put a grain of musk in the cleft of the stock, all the roses that spring from it will smell of musk; cleave then your heart by holy penitence, and put the love of God in the cleft; then engraft on it what virtue you please, and the works which spring from it will be all perfumed with sanctity, without need of any further attention,”

HOLY ABANDONMENT

“Do you ask what I desire should remain most deeply engraved upon your mind, so that you may put it in practice? What shall I say, except those excellent words I have so often already recommended to you: desire nothing, refuse nothing. Those words say everything, for they teach us the practice of perfect indifference. Look upon the Baby Jesus in the Crib. We are never told that He stretched forth His little hands to his Mother’s breast; He left her to provide all that was necessary to Him, but at the same time, He never refused the little comforts which she gave Him. So, too, ought we to desire nothing and to refuse nothing, but to suffer and to receive with perfect evenness of mind all that the Providence of God may permit.

Laugh at these old fears about money matters when they attack you, and remain firm in the words of our Master: “Seek first the kingdom of God and His justice, and all things” necessary for this life “shall be added unto you.” This is our port of safety; allow no afterthoughts, my child, no “buts” whatsoever. .

Let us serve God faithfully, and not say: “What shall we eat? what shall we drink ?” It is for the master of the house to have this solicitude, and for the Lady of the apartments to furnish them; and our house belongs to God and to His holy Mother.

He who can preserve sweetness and peace amid the worry and multitude of affairs, is almost perfect. This equableness of humour, this gentleness and sweetness of heart, is rarer than perfect chastity; but it is all the more desirable for that.

Let us serve God well today; as to the morrow, God will provide for it. Each day should bear its own burden. Have no solicitude for tomorrow, for God Who reigns today will reign tomorrow.”

HOLY EVENNESS OF MIND

“You know very well that I have always tried to bring before you this most holy evenness of mind-this most lovable and desirable evenness of spirit, amid all the changes and contradictions which are to be met with on the path of our mortal as well as of our spiritual life.

God has willed that the seasons, should be diversified, and that summer should be followed by autumn, winter by spring, to teach us that in this world nothing is lasting, and that temporal things are perpetually mutable, inconstant, and subject to change. Our want of recognition of this truth is what makes us unstable and changeable in our humours.

Most people in the world allow themselves to be governed by their passions and not by reason; therefore they are, generally speaking, inconsistent, variable, and changeable in their humours. If they have a fancy to go to bed early or very late, they do just whichever they please; if they want to get up early to go to the country, they do so; if they prefer to sleep they do that. If they want to dine or sup early or very late, they arrange so; and not only are they inconsistent and changeable in these matters, but they are the same in their intercourse with others. They wish people to accommodate themselves to their humours, and will not accommodate themselves to those of others.

By the use of reason, the wise man will remain firm and constant amid all the various events and accidents of this mortal life. Let the weather be fine or let it rain, let the air be calm or let the wind blow, the wise man pays no attention to it, knowing well that nothing in this life is lasting, and that this is not a place of rest. In affliction, he does not despond but waits for consolation; in sickness, he does not torment himself but waits for health, or if he sees that his hurt is such that death must follow, he thanks God, hoping for the repose of that life immortal, to which this life is but a prelude.

In what can we display caprice and fickleness? It is in the changes of our tempers, wills and desires. At present, I am joyous, because all things are succeeding as I wished; very soon I shall be sad, because a little unexpected contradiction will have arisen. But did you not know that this is not the place where pleasure pure and unalloyed is to be found, and that this life is full of such troubles? Today, because you have consolation in your prayer, you feel encouraged and thoroughly resolved to serve God; but tomorrow, when, dryness comes upon you, you will have no heart for the service of God.

Your peace and repose of heart depend upon your getting a clear idea of Eternity: whosoever lets his thoughts dwell on Eternity, troubles little as to what happens during the three or four moments of this life.

I am very glad you make a fresh start every day. There is no better way of attaining the spiritual life than by always beginning anew and never thinking you have done enough.

As for sadness, how can it be profitable to holy charity, seeing that joy is ranked amongst the fruits of the Holy Ghost, coming next to charity?

Live in joy, brimful of God and of His love!”

DEVOTION TO OUR LADY

Honour, venerate, and respect with a special love the holy and glorious Virgin Mary, who, being the Mother of Jesus Christ our Brother, is also in very truth our Mother. Let us then have recourse to her, and let us-as her little children-cast ourselves into her bosom with perfect confidence, at all times, and on all occasions, let us call upon this sweet Mother, let us invoke her maternal love, and whilst striving to imitate her virtues, let us have truly filial hearts in her regard.

ACT OF CONSECRATION OF ST. FRANCIS

I salute you, most sweet Virgin Mary, Mother of God; you are my Mother and my Mistress; and therefore I entreat you to accept me as your child and your servant; I wish to have no other Mother than you. I beg you then, my good and gracious and most sweet Mother, to deign to console me in all my troubles and tribulations, both spiritual and temporal. Remember, most sweet Virgin Mary, that you are my Mother, and that I am your child. You are all powerful, and I poor, weak and vile. Nevertheless, I beseech you, O sweetest Mother, to keep me and defend me in all my ways and in all my actions, for alas; I am poor and wretched, and in need of your most holy protection. Do then, my beloved Mother, preserve and deliver my soul and body from all dangers and evils, and make me share in your blessings, your virtues, and, in particular, in your holy humility, your surpassing purity and your ardent charity.

Tell me not, gracious Virgin, that you cannot do so, because your Son gave you all power in heaven and on earth. Neither tell me that you ought not to hear me, for you are the common Mother of all poor mortals, and of me in particular. If you could not grant my prayer, then I should excuse you, saying: ‘It is true that she is my Mother, and that I am her child, but she is not able to help me.’ If you were not my Mother, then, indeed, I should have patience, saying: ‘She is rich enough to be able to assist me, but alas! not being my Mother, she does not love me.’ But since, most sweet Virgin, you are not only my Mother, but are also powerful, how can you be excused if you do not console me, and come to my relief and assistance? You see, my Mother, that it is difficult for you to reject any request that I may make you!

Be then exalted in heaven and on earth, glorious Virgin and dear Mother Mary, and, for the honour and glory of your Divine Son, Jesus, accept me for your child, without regard to my miseries and sins. Deliver me from all evil of soul and body, obtain for me every virtue, and first of all humility; and bestow upon me all the benefits and graces necessary to make me pleasing to the Most Holy Trinity, Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. Amen.*

*St. Francis often repeated this Act of Consecration to the Queen of Heaven, in which the beauty of his soul and the purity of his heart are well depicted.

Nihil Obstat:

RECCAREDUS ELEMING, Censor Theol. Deput.

Imprimi Potest:

@EDUARDUS”

Archiep. Dublinen.,

Hiberniae Primas.

Dublini, die 30 Mar., anno 1936.

Sister Camillus Goes To Jail

BY ALOYSIUS ROCHE

INDEX

Nuns, after all, are but mortals like the rest of us, warmed and cooled by the same summer and winter. And thanks be to God for it, say I.

Sister Camillus was no exception; and so it did not surprise me when, during the annual Retreat, she knocked at the door of my room and shuffled in, as she said, just to have a bit of a chat. Old? Oh, yes, she was old, but with the sort of age that neither withers or makes stale; one of those antiques, in fact, that remain works of art no matter how long ago they were fashioned. There was nothing “dated” about her beyond the knack she had of repeating herself and a certain mild contempt for the ways and manners of today. Her face was a regular mosaic of good-humoured wrinkles, revolving round a nose the skin of which had the deceptive transparency of alabaster.

Of this and that we talked; and in between our exchanges, I fell to contrasting the lot of these religious women with that of their kith and kin in the passion-tossed world outside. The words of some poet or other echoed in my brain: One crowded hour of glorious life

Is worth an age without a name.

But, thought I, as for Sister Camillus, no ripple has ever disturbed the tranquillity of that placid lake.

“Sixty years professed! Is it possible?”

“Yes, I entered when I was sixteen.”

And so she went on, all about this nun and that, and Father X, and the time the Bishop turned up when he was not expected and the fine way Reverend Mother was in for days later. It was a trifle monotonous, after the fashion of a landscape devoid of features; and, growing restive, I broke in at last,

“And has nothing exciting ever happened to you?”

At the question, a change came over the furrowed features of Sister Camillus. She seemed to shake off the drowsiness of her near eighty years and to become assertive and lively. The very tones of her voice were altered.

“Has anything ever happened to me? Anything exciting? Yes, Father. Yes, indeed.”

And then she braced herself like one accepting a challenge.

“Would you call knocking a policeman down exciting?”

“You did that?”

“Every bit of it; and with a feather, you might almost say.”

“And you a nun at the time?”

“To be sure,” she replied, as though that was what nuns were for.

“Anything else?”

“Oh, yes. Plenty. The policeman was only a tit-bit. I stole a couple of loaves of bread, round about the same time.”

“Great Scott! You’ll be telling me next that you’ve been in prison.”

“So I have; habit and veil and all.”

“Right in?”

“As far in as ever the worst criminal can go.

“You’re joking.”

“I”m doing nothing of the kind.” And she laughed but sobered abruptly while the tears came into her eyes. “There were more trifles of that kind, all part of the one story. Maybe you would like me to tell you about it.”

“I would indeed.”

And so, indeed, she did.

I

“I had a turn for nursing,” she began, “from the time I was quite a child; and it was that, after the grace of God, that brought me into the convent. Our Order hadn’t been long started; in fact, the Foundress was still hale and hearty. As you know, her great ambition was to get together a body of women who would consecrate their nursing talents to the service of the very poor, for whom, at that date, little or nothing was ever done. That appealed to me and I entered, did my training and was professed. Fine, too, it all was, I must admit, although the work was heart-breaking. You see, there was no public opinion in the matter, or none to speak of. The gentry seemed to think that death was the best thing that could happen to the people in the slums, and that the sooner it happened the better. But, as you know, Father, Death has a rival in that same quarter, a rival in the shape of Birth, an obstinate and powerful one; so that all the epidemics and diseases made hardly any difference at all. I was attached to a small convent in Nottingham at first; and, few though we were, we managed to do quite a lot of good. Through the clergy we got in touch with such of our poor Catholics as were laid low, and we played the part of district nurses, visiting their miserable dwellings. We got them on to their feet sometimes; but, mostly, it was little more we could do than surround their last hours with some sort of decency, and help them to resign themselves to the holy will of God.

“As I hope to be saved, I can remember the beginning of it all as though it were the week before last. I was in our little chapel at the time, when the Superior looked in the door and brought me out with a beck of one of her fingers. She was a great one for flicking that same finger of hers, and sometimes the flick meant trouble for one or other of us. I was lucky this day, however, for, as soon as she had me in her room, she rattled out her orders.

““Sister.” says she, “there’s a bad case of fever down in Moul sham Street, at number 74–74 remember. It’s a small box and it’s a Protestant family, or rather I should say a non-Catholic family. The mother is ailing herself, and the father is God knows where and has been for years. You’ll have to live in and it will be a matter of six weeks. You know what that means?”

“As it happened I knew only too well what it meant was that for a month and a half I should have never a taste of Mass, Church or Meeting. I was to be cut off, isolated in a house no better than a pig-sty and in a neighbourhood that the very police kept out of as much as they dared. It was a fine prospect, and my first sensation was to wonder what I had been doing at all that the Lord should want to drive me out of His presence, like He whipped the auctioneers, or whatever they were, out of the Temple. Still, thinks I to myself, God’s grace is everywhere and it’s not for me to complain to One Who, at times, hadn’t a roof over His own head except the stark, chill stars. Besides, I knew-none better-that the Superior never would ask one of us to do anything that she herself was not prepared to do, and gladly, and had in fact done more than once before. Yes, they were hard times, those we lived in, I tell you; but then we that lived in them were harder still. Sure, nowadays, if you were to ask a young nun of twenty to post a letter at the end of the street, she would up and say, “And may I have a penny for the tram, please, Mother?”

“In less than an hour, I was on my way with my bag in my hand which the Superior packed for me- medicines, books, linen, all complete. And, do you know, as I left the chapel after saying my au revoir, and was trudging down the street, I had a feeling in all my bones that I was wading out or going out into deep water.”

“Were you worried?”

“Worried is it! Not I. Believe me, in those days the novitiate was a novitiate; and when you came through it, if you ever did, you were fit to stand up to Beelzebub, the Prince of Devils.

“Well, to make a short pair of shoes out of a long, I found Number 74 all right and the poor boy that was sick in it. Far gone he was, too, and for days I had small hopes of him. His mother was soon up and about, but she was delicate and, instead of helping, she had to be helped herself, the creature. There was only one bedroom between the three of us, and the mother and I took turn aboutat having a few hours” sleep. The neighbours below were ready to do anything short of putting their noses up the flight of stairs. When this or that was wanted, I passed the word over the banisters and one or other of them would be off to the convent to fetch it along. A strange life! But whether it was the devil tempting me or the Almighty making it up to me, believe me or not, after the first few days I began to enjoy it. Whatever else it might be, it was the tide of life and no mistake, and, brought up by the sea as I had been, I could well remember how glorious it was once you got used to the twinges of the cold water. And, of course, my name was a great support. I felt that I hadn’t been called Camillus for nothing. . . . . there was a nurse for you, a life-long martyr himself, yet crawling from his bed to visit the hovels of the sick. And our Order, although not actually vowed to tend the plague-stricken, is half pledged to do it; and sure, that’s the same thing.”

I was on the point of intervening here, in order to correct this item, and, incidentally, allow my theological learning to take the air, but Sister Camillus once started was not to be stopped.

“As I was saying, it was a grand experience while it lasted. It was my first trial of this sort of thing, for, up to then, my patients, if they were mostly working folk, at any rate were living in fairly good surroundings. This, however, was a proper initiation and made me realize how imperfect were my sympathy and compassion for Christ’s suffering members.

“For the first few days and nights I could hardly put up with it. I could endure being shut in and confined to one place, for I was used to that; but what I found most trying were the bad air and the noise-especially the noise. I have heard tell of people drowning their troubles in drink, but I think the poor drown theirs in uproar and commotion. In that street, from early morning till long after midnight, something was going on-the screaming of children, the brawling of housewives, the barking of dogs. Even the ordinary good-natured talk that passed from door to door across the narrow street was like the rattle of machine guns. Many a time, I imagined that there must be murder going on, only to find that it was just Mr. Somebody-or-Other inquiring how Mrs. So-andSo’s sick husband was getting on. I do believe that the drums of my ears have never been the same since. And, above it all, a round score-or so it seemed to me-were selling this or that at the top of their voices, and another score singing songs and playing cornets for a living. But, praise be to God, I remained sane and got the better of my nerves. The next thing I noticed was that I was being shaken out of one or two of my favourite notions.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, Father, that the likes of you and me are apt to fancy that all the virtues are safely locked up in our sacristies and cloisters. But, do you know, I soon found out that one or two of these same virtues manage to break out and get into places like Moulsham Street, virtues that take us all our time to practise-humility and tolerance and detachment, aye, and temperance as well. In my younger days, when I had just my few ounces for breakfast, I was fit to be tied until dinner time came. “Don’t talk to me when you know I”m fasting”- that’s the kind of thing I mean. But I soon got to know that nearly all the breakfasts at Number 74 were fasting breakfasts. And it was all accepted as a matter of course-the hunger, the cold, the noise, the bad air, everything. No doubt it’s all on the natural level, more’s the pity. If God could be brought into it, the likes of them would be fit for canonization. And their patiences! It is easy enough to be brave for a few hours, or for a day or a week; but here was a life-long courage that endured in the face of hindrance and handicaps without number.”

“Did the boy recover?”

“Yes, I managed to pull him through, with a bit of help from the Almighty, of course. Before long I had him up and sitting at the window.”

“What about the policeman you knocked down? You said that he was part of the story, I believe.”

“Oh, he was. It happened one Saturday night late. There was a terrible fight down in the street below, and Johnny and I-Johnny was my little boy, you must know-Johnny and 1 were standing at the window looking at it by the light of the street lamp that was fixed to the wall just above the door of the house we were in. A great brute of a man was thrashing his wife. Aye! and she was thrashing him too, it is only fair to say. When I could stand it no longer I decided to take the risk and go down and give them a piece of my mind. Down I went, then, and opened the door. In the meantime, our friend the policeman must have arrived on the scene Unknown to me, for as soon as I stepped out into the strong light, there he was not more than a couple of yards away. He must have been a nervous man, for at sight of me in my blue habit and white veil, he staggered back and tripped up and toppled over into the roadway with his legs in the air. By the time he was on his feet again, the street was as clean as if it had been swept with a hard brush. I was not too far wrong, you see, when I said that I knocked him down with a feather.”

“And the loaves you stole?” was my next question.

“Ah, that was nothing at all. We ran out of bread one morning with nobody to fetch it for us, and when I spied the baker’s basket set down on the kerb, with no baker to be seen, I helped myself and poor Johnny. I was not supposed to hand out money or anything else for fear of the contagion. But we settled with the baker later on. . . . Have you had enough of an old woman’s croaking?”

When I answered, somewhat untruthfully, that I was prepared to listen until midnight, she blinked at me through her watering eyes, and settled down to chapter two.

II

“Yes, I pulled him through. It was touch and go, and before I left I told him so in hopes that he might remember to thank God. I kept clear of Catholic matters, for that’s our rule; but I showed his mother a miraculous medal I had, and asked if she would like me to leave it with Johnny as a keepsake. She made no objection to that, I need hardly say; and so I put it about Johnny’s neck and told him not to forget his prayers if it happened that he was in trouble. The night before I left there was a tea-party in the street with all the neighbours bringing something, and the tables and chairs set out on the pavement in front of the door. From what I hear a change has come over the people within the last few years. They have been got at in this way and that, and are poorer than ever, with some of their best treasures taken from them. No doubt, it’s just the way the world goes round. If you get one thing you lose another. But I”m sorry for it all the same.

“It was with a sad heart that I came away from Number 74, I can tell you. I left Nottingham soon after and went first here and then there, with plenty of work to do and plenty of strange faces to see. I”m not going to pretend that I remembered Johnny every morning after, for that would be a lie. He went clean out of my head. “The woman remembers, the man forgets.” So they say. You’ll learn how much truth there is in that before I”m done with you. They say, too, that forty is the dangerous age, but I don’t believe that either, for I was well past forty when I had to fight the biggest temptation that ever came to me in my whole life.”

“You wanted to go back to the world, I suppose?”

“No, just the opposite. I wanted to sit tight in my snug little cell, when there was God’s hand beckoning to me to come out into the same wicked world and do something for Him. And during the hours of one sleepless night I fought against His will with my two fists tightly clenched.

“I was stationed down south when the call came, at our lead house I may say, and you will never guess where I was asked to go this time. Well, it was to the—Prison, and it was the Governor, no less, that wanted to see me and on most urgent business besides. You may be sure our Superior hummed and hawed over this; but she got in touch with Archbishops House, and word was sent that I was to go. And I went that very day, with another Sister to keep an eye on me and see that I came back. It was a fine place entirely, and if we had been royalty itself we couldn’t have been better treated. From first to last it was, “Will you please step this way, Sister?” “Take a chair, Sister,” and all the rest of it. Pre- sently in comes the Governor and, by way of breaking it gently, I suppose, he beat about the bush for quite a while. But he made the pair of us sit up straight enough when he asked if I had been doing work amongst the poor in Nottingham twentyfive years ago. My first thought was: Dear God! this is the policeman I knocked down and he’s been promoted since.

“And was it?”

“Not at all. He next wanted to know if I could remember nursing a small boy of the name of Cheetham who was laid up with fever.

““I do indeed,” says I, “Johnny was his name, Johnny Cheetham, sure enough.” “Well,” says the Governor, “we have Johnny in here at the moment and he has asked to see you, to see Sister Camillus, the nun who saved his life when he was a lad.” And do you know, Father, what with all the hub-hub there had been, at that I broke down altogether. I couldn’t help it. There’s not much gratitude about anyway, and I was touched to the quick to think that this heathen had never forgotten the little bit of kindness I was able to do for him. Still, I covered it all up as well as I could, and when I had dried my eyes, says I, “Johnny has been getting into trouble then, I suppose.” “He has, indeed,” says the Governor, into great trouble.” And then, it turned out that my poor boy was what they call a bad prisoner, which meant that he would let nobody next or near him to give him a bit of religious consolation. Things had gone on like this from day to day until the Governor, who was a good, conscientious man himself, made one last despairing effort to bring the lad to his senses. He told him that it was a shocking thing for anyone to harbour such bad dispositions, or something to that effect. And he ended up by asking if there was anyone, anywhere, any relation, any friend, whom he would be willing to see. “For if there is,” says the Governor, “you’ve only to tell me and I”11 move heaven and earth to bring such a person to you.” Or words to that effect. And then, it seems, Johnny showed signs of being shaken out of the dreadful hardness of heart that was upon him. He considered for a long time and ended by blurting out something about a nun who had saved his life when he was a boy in Nottingham, a nursing Sister of some sort who lived in a convent up there and had given him a medal when she went away. “If you can find that Sister,” says he, “I”11 see her but I”11 see nobody else.” After that, of course, the Governor questioned him closely, found out the Sister’s name and a few other details, and then off he went to set the telephone bells ringing. The Nottingham police went to our convent there and traced me to my new address, and that brought upon my two shoulders the heaviest cross that the Lord ever laid upon them.”

“Did you see the prisoner?”

“Not that day; for if there was one thing I felt sure of at the time it was that His Holiness himself would never bring me to do it. My one thought was to getout of the place and get home, and like lightning wouldn’t be too quick for me.”

“And you refused?”

“No, I was too sly for that. What I said was that such a thing could not be done without the Superior’s permission, and she would have to ask the Provincial, and she would have to ask the Archbishop. I forgot the Pope, for the time being, or I might have brought him into the permissions as well. With that we came away. Outside I felt safe; and I thought I was safe for good and all, only I wasn’t.

“You see, I knew that the Order couldn’t force me to do a thing like that; it’s not in the contract. That’s where I had them and that’s why I felt safe. But I forgot the kind of Master that we had to deal with. When all was told, the Superior said, what I knew she would say, that the thing was in my own hands and that even if I wanted to go she had no power to let me. There was never a wink of sleep for me that night, and it wasn’t until nearly morning that I found out what was the matter with me. I was paying the penalty of those who refuse to take up their cross. Or rather, I had exchanged one cross for another-a cross of wood for a cross of lead. The other cross was my own cowardice. It was that that was tormenting me and, at last, I had to give in.”

“You went after all?”

“I went after all and of my own accord with all permissions given and taken. I went with an easy mind. My little battle had been fought and won; and, as before in Nottingham, I bad the wild feeling that I was wading into the tide of life. I went, and I went again and again. I was forced to it by the great pity that was in my heart. Aye, and there was more than “pity for,” believe me. Father, I felt as though Johnny was my own flesh and blood. We women, you see, are made that way to our sorrow as wellas to our joy. But I was well rewarded, thanks be to God.”

III

At this point the Sister’s tears began to flow in earnest, and I was at a loss to understand why so much emotion had been expended on the hum-drum business of visiting a convict-and “as being expended now, even, some forty years after the event. I was at a loss and yet not quite at a loss either, for surely-so I mused-agitations are none the less agitations for all that they entwine themselves around insignificant things. The heartrending is whatsoever rends the heart, and the size of the instrument has nothing to do with it. To that extent, a child agonizing over a broken doll is as much a figure of tragedy as was Hamlet or King Lear. Still, none of this glib philosophy of mine could quite keep down my impatience. With a faint touch of sarcasm, I observed that it was a small matter to make a fuss of, since the members of the Prisoners” Aid Society did this sort of thing regularly and thought nothing about it.

“Yes, of course. That’s what I kept telling myself at the time. And if Johnny had been an ordinary case of thieving or the like, sure I”d have gone to him without any trouble at all.”

“What was he in for, by the way?”

“He was in for murder.”

“For murder.”

“Yes, for murder. He had been tried and found guilty and was to be executed in three days” time. And he wanted to see me. When the Governor told me that, I felt a sudden chill at my heart as though it had been stabbed with an icicle. Every drop of blood in my veins seemed to run cold. It was the usual story, I need hardly say. It has often puzzled me greatly to know how men and women can manage to love and hate one another at the same time. They do manage, somehow. Human nature’s a strange, weird thing, with dark corners in it that take a deal of exploring. But, of course, I was ignorant of the why and the wherefore of the crime until later. At the time I speak of, I knew only this, that somewhere in that very building my poor boy was alone with his sentence and his sorrow, waiting for the fatal day and meanwhile the sun was shining away outside as though there was no sin at all in the wide, wide world. But I went to him in the end, as I say. One bad night and trouble was over. After my Mass and Communion, a kind of calm brightness seemed to shine upon me such as falls from the sky at dawn. I went the same forenoon, for, as I say, he had only three short days left.”

“He made a good end?”

“I hope I may make as good. I never knew the strength of God’s mercy until I saw it pick Johnny up as you might a crumb from the table. I used to wonder what peace of mind there ever could be for those who killed a fellow-creature. But that problem was solved for Johnny. He was made to feel that the divine forgiveness includes the human. I began by teaching him, but it ended with his teaching me. I tell you, I could almost feel the presence of God in his soul. And the chaplain as good as said the same.”

“He had the Catholic chaplain, then?”

“To be sure. When I was done with him I turned him over to Canon—. He baptized him and had him confirmed and all the rest. And, of course, he was beside him at the last.”

“You were spared that much at any rate.

“I don’t know about spared. I was so worked up in the finish that I felt equal to standing on the drop beside him. You wouldn’t believe the miracles the Lord performed during those few days. And while they lasted, I lived through a long life-time of suspense which made me realize what Johnny’s must be. His, I believe, was sweetened for him by the resig- nation which faith had planted in his heart. But mine was like the aching of a tooth which gave me hardly any peace by day or by night. There were times when I could have cried out against the slowness of the passing hours, for my one anxiety was that the fatal morning might come and find Johnny’s resolution unshaken. What kept me up was a conviction I had that we were linked together in some mysterious way, and that his perseverance depended on my own. Something came to life in me that was only half alive before; the realization of the current circulating here below that makes us all branches of the same tree. And along with this, there grew in me the feeling that never again could I be indifferent to the misfortune of anyone, that wherever the cross was I must be there too.”

While Sister Camillus paused to compose herself there floated before my mind a vivid picture of these two, the nun and the malefactor, whom providence had brought together, awaiting with passionate eagerness, though under different aspects, the same tragic event; she in the peace of a convent dedicated to expiation, and he in that gaunt penitentiary also dedicated to expiation. And it appeared to me that, at that moment, I had a clearer understanding than ever of the literal meaning of such words as sympathy, compassion and the Communion of Saints. For here, surely, was a veritable partnership in distress, a heroism of charity that made the anguish of the unfortunate prisoner bone of her bone and sinew of her sinew, after the pattern of Christ, Who truly bore our infirmities and carried our griefs. Outside the swallows flitted to and fro, their wings and tails gleaming in the sun that was shining away, as Sister said, as though there was no sin or sorrow in the whole wide world.

IV

My reverie was broken by the old nun’s voice, calm and subdued by now almost to a whisper.

“Have you ever been in a prison chapel?”

“No, Sister.”

“Well, I had the privilege of hearing Mass there on the last morning, a regular church it was, and painted all over with images of Saints known to have been prisoners at one time or another -St. Paul, of course, St. Peter and many more. The Catholic convicts themselves had done the painting. It was a happy thought and, no doubt, helped these poor fellows to understand that however guilty they might be, at any rate the penance they were doing could be sanctified.

“During the celebration, Johnny was out of sight in the 1ittle hutch at the side of the sanctuary reserved for the condemned, and the Canon gave him Holy Communion there, with every eye in the chapel turned towards the place, and we all as quiet as the grave. I noted the other convicts as they filed out, and there was sorrow in each face and the light of Christian charity. I wouldn’t deny either, that when I climbed the stairs to have my last word with Johnny. I was nervous. One look at him, however, and I was nervous no longer.”

“You mean to say you saw him again.”

“Why, yes, of course. It was his wish and, by that time, I would have as soon denied my Master as deny poor Johnny.” “Was heafraid?”

“Oh, no! He gave me to understand that all the fright in him was used up while he was expecting his reprieve. I”m told that that’s the way it is, as a rule. As long as they are hopeful they are terrified, and when the hope goes, the fear goes with it.”

“I never knew that before,” I said, and as I said it, there took shape in my mind a picture of the condemned man living for two weeks and more like one in a dream, stupified by the terror that was on him and yet buoyed up, too, by the merciful illusion of hope; and, then, when that was taken from him, snatched from despair by the timely comfort and affection of a fellow-creature.

“He was not afraid. His face was bloodless and his eyes shone with a feverish brightness. He was restless, as well, and inclined to be on the move, with an eager defiance about him that, I fancy, a soldier must feel when waiting the signal to go over the top. I don’t believe I paid any heed to these things at the time. In fact, when the Superior used to ask me after my visits what Johnny was like, I was never able to tell her.”

“And what was he like?”

“He was about as unlike a man that would commit a murder as you are, Father. More unlike, in fact, saving your presence. It was that added to my torment every time I sat beside him and looked into his great, staring, innocent-looking eyes. The first time ever I saw him in the cell, I understood just exactly why the Governor and all concerned were so upset over this case. It’s no great matter shooting a mad dog or some wild creature of a cat that’s terrifying the neighbourhood; but, if you’ve ever tried your hand at drowning a weeny bit of a kitten three or four months old, I think you’ll know what I”ve got in mind. If ever the hanging of a man went against natural grain, that man’s hanging did. That much I”m sure of. It’s my belief, into the bargain, that one fine day we shall get to know a lot more of the ins and outs of these matters than we do now, and we shall act accordingly. And if that’s rank heresy, then may God forgive me for it.

“However, as I say, it was not until long after it was all over that the impressions of those days came to the fore one by one. I never saw Johnny other than excited. It was that that kept him up and kept him going. I was just as excited myself, and it was that that kept megoing, I believe. There are some troubles we can’t go through in cold blood, and I don’t believe we are meant to, either.

“When it came to the end of all, he was down on his two knees asking for my blessing; and, without a by-your-leave of the theologians, I gave it for what it was worth. I remember he put the cigarette he was smoking on the tray while he went to the floor, and he rose up again just as the Governor came into the room. It was finished in a few minutes, seconds almost. “Just drink this, now,” says the Governor, as he held a small glass to Johnny’s mouth, and with that, away they went out through a door in the far corner, the chaplain leading and saying the prayers, in a loud voice. That’s another way they have with them, it seems. Everything in a loud voice, at the end, to keep the nerves down. The last I heard of them, as the heavy door closed, was Johnny’s “Amens” as strong as faith and as clear as a bell.

“And, then, I had a feeling that my nerves were about to snap like cords that have been stretched too far, and the next thing was the matron had her arms about me and I was going out by the other door. By that time, my boy was in the presence of God, and there on the tray was his cigarette still burning. The morning sun threw its beams upon the sad walls and, do you know? the little thread of smoke from the cigarette expanded, all of a sudden, into a ring that looked to me for all the world like the halo one sees over the heads of God’s saints.”

Nihil obstat:

O. P. MURPHY, Diocesan Censor.

Imprimatur:

@ DANIEL MANNIX,

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis.

********

Sister Rosalie Rendu

INDEX

1786–1856

The Story of over Fifty Years Devotion and Service to the Poor of a Daughter of Charity of St. Vincent de Paul.

PLACED in the centre of Europe, with different races overlapping her borders, North, East and South, France has been in frequent turmoil for the past hundred and sixty years. Internal revolutions and external wars have spattered her history, and amid all the evils of those times, the Wisdom of God has brought forward a succession of saintly men and women to balance and rectify the doings of the wicked.

The French Revolution, between 1789 and 1799, besides proclaiming the Republic, had sought to nationalize the Church. There were Martyrs in plenty, who died for the rights of the Church. Religious communities of men and of women were butchered or dispersed, and the diocesan clergy were deported or compelled to leave their parishes, and seek temporary refuge abroad. Many of these went over across the mountains of Switzerland, and the house of the Rendu family was a stage of the weary journey for numbers of them, and a hideout for others.

THE RENDU FAMILY

It was a modest house in the village of Confort, named after a chapel of Our Lady of Consolation or “Confort,” built by Cistercian Monks there on the roadside. It looked out over the valley to the majestic peaks of the Jura Mountain Chain, between France and Switzerland.

It was here that Jeanne Marie Rendu was born in 1786, the first child of this branch of the family which had its well-known roots back in the fifteenth century. Her father died when she was ten, followed by a baby daughter, leaving his wife with three girls to care for and educate.

Jeanne Marie made her first Holy Communion in the secrecy of the cellar, when she was nine years of age. In later years she recalled the pleasing risks of the Masses celebrated in the morning darkness in her home by her Parish Priest and by “the gardener, Peter,” who was in fact the Bishop of Annecy; both of these were in hiding in the house.

SCHOOLING AND VOCATION

The Ursuline Nuns had bravely reopened their boarding school at Gex a few years earlier, and Jeanne Marie was sent there, thirty miles from home, for a couple of years’ instruction and education. Well- grounded in the elements of her religion by her mother, she enjoyed the freedom of its practice in this convent; and her willing nature benefited by the teaching given, as is evident in her capacities in after life. It was in Gex that she first saw the Daughters of Charity of St. Vincent de Paul, whose hospital there had been founded in 1660 by St. Vincent himself, shortly before his death. On one of her visits to Gex, Madam Rendu took her daughter to visit a friend in the hospital. The sight of the sick and their nurses impressed the girl indelibly, though she was not yet twelve years of age. She had been accustomed to help her mother in caring for the poor and the sick who called at their home by the wayside, even to the extent of giving away her best Sunday shoes to a barefooted stranger, and her nearer view of great human distress and suffering in the hospital beds made a stirring appeal to her generous heart. The grace of God was to add its force to her own compassionate nature, and soon bring her to make the gift of herself and her life for the service of the poor and suffering.

NOVITIATE

She returned home, helping her mother for two years, but with her dream of the future always in mind, until, at the age of fifteen, with the advice of the Parish Priest of Gex, in company with one of her schoolmates, she decided to join the Community of the Daughters of Charity in Paris. Their novitiate had been reopened in 1800 when the Daughters of Charity, scattered and tried by the Revolution, came together again to continue their charitable works for the people who had molested them. After their heartfelt farewells and a long, tedious drive in the stage-coach, the two Postulants were delivered to the Mother House on the 25th of May, 1802. Jeanne Marie then began her period of training and the consolidating of her vocation in charity, humility and simplicity. The change of climate from her mountain air and the ardent life of the Novitiate threatened her health, so that she was transferred to another house in Paris, whilst still in the black habit of a Novice, and was given the name of Sister Rosalie.

ACTIVE SERVICE

Her new home was in the street of the “Epée de Bois” or of the “Wooden Sword,” not far from the Mother House and from St. Sulpice Church, in a slum area, with its crowds of people, its vulgarity and wretchedness, and its shops and markets along the dirty streets. She was now sixteen years of age, and was to reside in this dreary-looking quarter of the city for the rest of her days, going about doing good. Here the Sisters had a “house for relief,” set up by the Government to distribute relief to the poor, who were very numerous after the disorganization of the Revolution. The seven Sisters also conducted a primary school, a dispensary, and a depot for clothing and linen goods, and visited the sick and the poor in their homes and hovels. Their services were so much valued by the local residents that when the Sisters had been brought before one of the revolutionary tribunals as “reactionaries,” the men of the place gathered there and told the Judges that they were determined to protect the Sisters and take them back to their home. The Judges gave way, and the men escorted the Sisters back in triumph.

IN THE SCHOOL

Sister Rosalie was first placed in the schoolroom. With a kind and devoted heart, her gay and bright disposition, capable, and experienced by the handling of her own smaller sisters, she found this instructing of children a pleasing apostolate, and gave herself to it in the spirit of the Blessed Virgin teaching the Christ Child. As the pastoral care of priests had been scarce and fitful for nearly ten years, she also became the catechist to many grown-ups at evening classes, begun for their benefit. After school she was allowed to accompany other Sisters visiting the homes of the poor to bring food, clothes, and all sorts of necessities. One astonishing experience she had at this time. Her Superior had been asked by the Archbishop of Paris to attend to the meals and care of a good priest, who, through no fault of his own, had become a victim of diabolical possession. Sister Rosalie went on one of these visits to him, and when she had swept and tidied the room where he sat at a desk, writing, her Superior said to her: “Say ‘good-day’ to Father and ask for his prayers.” She was about to do so when, like lightning, the poor man sprang to the ceiling and ran around on it as if it were the floor, calling out: “Rosalie, what a lot of souls you will snatch from me.” In terror, Sister Rosalie was out and away down the street in a moment. It was a startling event, but it was a revelation of the virtue of the young Sister and of the power for good she wielded.

In 1807, at the age of 21, she made her vows of Poverty, Chastity, Obedience and Service of the Poor, as a full member of the Company of the Daughters of Charity; she continued her school-work and her errands around the slum. Her cornette was a sign of comfort and charity wherever she went in the dirty, narrow streets and the low, verminous houses. No visitor was more welcome, more pleasant and charming; and no one was more happy and pleased to be serving the needy and the poor. Mishaps of all kinds came for her healing. One day she was seen leading a horse along the street. A strange sight, but it had a simple explanation. A man came to her in tears at the loss of his horse; he was a carrier, and his livelihood was in danger. She approached one of her benefactors. “I need a horse,” she said rather shyly. “If that is all,” her friend replied, “take one of those in the stable.” But these were racehorses. “Well, then, you will have to go and buy it yourself, if you want a draught horse,” the man said. “Send the account to me.”

SUPERIORESS

In 1815, when she was only twenty- eight, Sister Rosalie was appointed Superioress of the house of eight Sisters in the street of the “Wooden Sword.” She was young for such a charge, but her worth was evident and her capabilities esteemed. Her zeal was contagious, showing its effect in the house by the fervent, regular life of her companions, and outside, by their willing co-operation in the works of charity. In all the busy days of her life, first place was given to her direct duties to God in prayer, presence at Holy Mass, and the devotions normal to her Community. It was from this source that all her activity for others was guided and stimulated.

Her spirit of Faith never flagged, and she saw the spiritual aspect of every circumstance. “You should not lose a moment of your lovely calling,” she said to a school sister; “you alone will teach these children to know and love God; their mothers would never do it. . . . And remember that you are paid to teach them; if you do not do it, you will fail in justice.” And again: “Since you will not have the good fortune to be visiting the poor, you can do good for yourself by cleaning the shoes of those who do, and who may not have the time to do it themselves.”

She chose a strong young Sister to do the visiting:. in a thickly populated area, known as the “Gilded City.” “You will have the best part,” she said, “in this place. There are twelve hundred people there, living in huts of all sorts built by the rag- pickers. People who are without work, without clothes; many couples are not married and most of them come there through vice rather than by misfortune. There are lots of drunkards. Ask the children you meet whether they go to school. There is a great deal of good to be done among them by a Daughter of Charity.” A policeman on duty met the Sister on her way. “I think, Sister, this is not your place,” he said kindly, “it is hardly wise for you to come among these rogues. We ourselves come only in squads.” On reporting this to her Superior, Sister Rosalie told her: “You have nothing to fear; the police are there to deal out human justice, you are there to show the mercy of God. Do what you can. God wants us to dig and sow; He will bring on the fruits; grace has its own time. Get the children to pray.” Sister Rosalie had no qualms about her zeal, with complete confidence in the helping hand of God.

HER CHARACTER

A determined woman of strong will, she was kind and maternal towards her companions. She rarely gave commands, but rather gently begged her Sisters to oblige her. She asked their advice in the affairs that concerned them and their work. “If I wanted to know how to bark,” she said in justification of her practice, “Would I not ask a dog ?” She had full confidence in their judgment, for they were, like herself, fully devoted to the work of God for His poor. She showed them many kind attentions and favours, seeing that their shoes were dried if they had been out in the rain, preparing a special dish for the delicate, or taking a spell in their classrooms to relieve them. Sisters did not like to be changed from her side, nor did she like to lose them. She said to Sister Melanie, who thought of going across to the Mother House for some family ceremony: “Do not go; you are tall, and when they see you they will be thinking of you for some other place.” She was strong and firm in her management, but never severe; rigorous and thoughtful; understanding and considerate, though not soft; compassionate and forgiving, unselfish, and more tender than a mother towards the Sisters in her care. For forty years she was Superior in the one house, where she trained many Sisters and many Postulants, for it was a sort of place of apprenticeship. Sister de Verien, who planted the Company of the Daughters of Charity in Ireland at Drogheda in 1855, was among these; and it was from the house in Drogheda that the first Superioress in Australia came in 1926.

SOME UNDERTAKINGS

She had not long been Superior in the Rue de l’Epee de Bois, when she was summoned to the Mother House and given the message to remain there. She was engaged in sewing and at some work in the garden for several days, waiting to know what was to be her destination. Being asked did she not want to interview the Mother General, she replied simply: “I shall see her when she wishes to send for me; I have nothing to speak to her about; just now I have only to be obedient.” She was sent for, and her Superior said: “Sister, you are a nuisance to us here; you may return to your own house.” Humble and happy within herself, she set off at once for the Mouffetard quarter of the city and the poor and to the work she loved.

Her undertakings were advancing under her valiant guiding hand. She kept a vigilant eye on the children’s school, for she valued their instruction and upbringing- always in accord with their social status, for she did not wish them to be overeducated, with ambitions beyond their reach and with a distaste for life among their own families.

As the girls grew up and left school to go to work, she encouraged them to come back on Sundays and Feastdays for some recreation, dancing and singing-and for her good advice. Her past-pupils were delegated to look after the younger girls in their first years in the world-they were to be “big sisters,” and were formed into an Association of Our Lady of Good Counsel. Since good is contagious, these girls extended their charity to visiting old and lonely people in the district, talking and reading to them, bringing them some delicacies and doing their laundry for them.

The Day Nursery she established was dear to her heart, for it gave her contact with these innocent souls, and though she could not spend much time personally with the babies, she took care to meet their mothers and enquire after their welfare and the practice of their religion in the Sacraments and the Mass.

As her charity embraced all ages, she began a night shelter for men. As many as eighty, old and solitaries for the most part, were given lodging. She gave them, besides, comfort and encouragement, appreciating the anxieties and the crosses of old age; and regarding them as near-candidates for Heaven, she instilled into them the patience and courage to go on in their hope of a blessed after-life. She had no complaints or rebukes for them, but always defended them in their faults and made excuses for them. If they took too much wine-”old men’s milk” they called it—it was excused because they wished to forget their troubles and misery; or because, having no other place of recreation or comfort than the taprooms, they were led unconsciously to indulge in the bright, shining wines.

At one period of cholera, in 1832, Sister Rosalie gathered seventy orphan children in a few days; their parents were stricken down in this unsavoury quarter of the city, and the Sisters stepped into their place.

The expenses of these branches of her charity never worried Sister Rosalie. The generous open hand of Providence, through some human medium, secured the funds for the expansion of buildings, for the food and clothing of the boarders, and for the articles distributed to those in want. One month in 1838, two thousand people were given a daily ration from the “soup- kitchen” kept by the Sisters-several hours of service and a considerable cost.

Besides, she had always cultivated a childlike confidence in the Mother of God, appealing to her in all circumstances and trusting in her maternal protection. From their foundation the Daughters of Charity had been schooled in the devotion of the Rosary and in the belief of the Immaculate Conception, which gave special prayers and cult to Mary. Sister Rosalie was no exception, and her filial piety for Our Lady was always to the fore. It is exemplified in the advice she gave to one of her friends, whose wife had just died: “Make Mary the Mother of your children.” Frequently she visited the Church of Our Lady of Victories to pray for special needs, but the shrine of Our Lady of Hope in St. Severin’s Church seemed to be her chosen place of pilgrimage; it was near her house, and she could call there easily.

She lived in the days of the manifestation of the Medal of the Immaculate Conception, when the Blessed Virgin appeared to St. Catherine Laboure, one of the younger Sisters of her Community at the Mother House; and she saw this medal get its name of “miraculous medal” because of the graces and conversions and favours received through its use. In her own activities she was an ardent propagator of the medal and its devotion. And when she passed near the Mother House, after that date, she never failed to call to the shrine; on her monthly visit there she would spend as much time as possible in that chapel, interceding for her people, their needs and welfare.

VISITATION OF THE POOR

The primary duty of visiting the poor in their own homes and garrets was never neglected. These were, in the words of St. Vincent de Paul, her “lords and masters,” so for them she gave her love and service, begging her Superiors to send her more Sisters in order to relieve them the more. She instructed her new helpers in their approach to the poor, in the good offices and attentions they should show them, and in the ways of attending to their ills and sicknesses.

THE SOCIETY OF ST. VINCENT DE PAUL

Among her other helpers were some men, university students and professors, who became the foundation members of the Society of St. Vincent de Paul. They were engaged in visiting prisons and hospitals and in rescuing foundlings, in their spare time, and had worked individually under the direction of Sister Rosalie in her district, visiting the sick and needy. There was a study-circle or “conference of History” meeting regularly in the home or office of Professor Bailly, of the Sorbonne University, frequented by students like Frederick Ozanam, Lamache, Lallier and Letaillander. It was at one of these meetings that someone complained in disgust: “Christianity is dead. You boast of being Catholics; what are you doing about it ?” After the meeting, Ozanam said to Letaillander: “That’s true. Let us not talk about charity, but let us put it into action.” At the next gathering it was suggested that a “conference of charity” be formed. All present agreed; Professor Bailly was very pleased, and he advised them to go to Sister Rosalie for advice and instruction about ways and means. The “Conference for History” became the “Conference for Charity,” the first Conference of the Society of St. Vincent de Paul, in 1833.

It was not far from the University to Sister’s house in the street of the “Wooden Sword,” where she had now spent 30 years. Ozanam knew the way very well. Sister Rosalie already knew him, and had warned him of his excessive generosity to the poor. She told him of one of her young men who had given all his clothes to a poor beggar, so that a friend who called on him in the morning found him still in bed because he had nothing to wear. A message was sent to Sister Rosalie, who supplied the necessary garments, and a note which said: “My poor friend, if you become a Bishop some day, you will give away your Cross and mitre.” (The young man, M. Dupuch, did become Bishop of Algiers, and did give away his crozier and mitre in his generosity.) Ozanam learned this lesson of prudence, as he did many other things, from Sister Rosalie.

The Conference of Charity often met in her house in the “Wooden Sword.” She gave them addresses and houses to call at, proving to them the need and the welcome nature of their activities. She also generously refilled their “poorbox” with alms, when it was depending solely upon their weekly collection among themselves. Moreover, she freely gave them her advice and experience, and imbued them with the spirit of supernatural charity and the spirit of St. Vincent de Paul. The first Rule of the Society, published in 1835, is remarkable for its many expressions identical with those of St. Vincent, for instance: “Here at last is the commencement of the written Constitution for which we have so long yearned. It has had to wait for a long time. . . . But were we not bound to feel assured that God wished it to continue ? Was it not necessary to see what it could do, by what it had done already, before framing its rules and its obligations ? . . . Jesus Christ first practised what He was afterwards to teach mankind: “He began to do and to teach.” We wish to imitate that Divine Model so far as our weakness allows. . . . We shall love our Society tenderly, and even with a greater affection than any other similar body, not because of its excellence or through pride, but as dutiful children love a poor and deformed mother more than all other women, however remarkable they may be for their wealth and attractions.”-These are formulae taken from St. Vincent’s own writings. Besides, this Rule adopts what St. Vincent did and did not wish in various circumstances as its guide in charity. The President General of the Society, Professor Bailly, in a letter to the whole Society in 1842, emphasized the source of these Rules: “They are not the word of man, or at least they are the word of a man who was made a Saint, a man whose sayings and whole life God has crowned with heavenly glory. You are aware, of course, that those thoughts are taken from the most intimate writings of St. Vincent de Paul, from the Rules which he drew up after many years’ experience for the holy societies of which he was the father.”-Where did these ideas of St. Vincent come from ? What was the channel bringing them to these charitable men, if not Sister Rosalie Rendu ?

She knew the first members of the Society very closely, and knew their goodwill and earnestness, their zeal and charity; they sought her aid and her counsel, and valued her experience and guidance. When the question arose at one of their meetings of branching out into a second conference, after fruitless discussion, the member who had proposed it, said: “It is not my idea; it came from Sister Rosalie,” and the proposal was at once agreed to by all. It is no wonder that she is revered by the 16,000 Conferences throughout the world as one of the founders of their Society.

DAILY CALLERS

It was reckoned that at times in her small office in the Street of the “Wooden Sword,” Sister Rosalie interviewed as many as five hundred people in one day. What doctor or lawyer or executive would see as many ? There were poor and sick, rich and miserable; some coming for alms, others to give them; some for employment, others for advice. Prudence, patience, charity and good humour were active here all day long.

Seeing a client in the queue at her door, she called him: “I want you to do me a little advice; take this parcel to the address written on it for me.” On leaving, the man was surprised to read his own name and address on the packet-a ruse of Sister Rosalie to cover up his shame and shyness and preserve his self-respect.

“Sister, I want to get a place as a singer in a church choir,” was the request of one caller, and forthwith he began to sing. “You sing very well,” she said, “but I imagine you have sung in the taverns oftener than in the church.” “Oh, well, I do take a glass with my friends, but it is not a habit,” was his simple admission. “Well, then,’ she replied, “I’ll give you a recommendation to the Parish Priest, but, though I would not forbid a small taste after you have sung the Lord’s praises, do not take anything beforehand.”

A printer who had lost his sight was brought by his friend and guide to visit her. He remained cold and surly and was sarcastic about her work. She called in some children and introduced them, asking him to give them from his experience the benefit of his advice regarding their futures. He was touched, and finding this an avenue for helping others, became a frequent visitor.

A lady in mourning, who had just lost her daughter in death, was sent one day by the Archbishop. Sister Rosalie sympathized with her, then asked her if she would take some bread tickets to a few poor families. “You can write your daughter’s name on each, and it will be she who gives them.” The sorrowing mother took the messages, and found other people worse off than herself-a field for work which she set herself to cultivate, and thus secured peace and consolation for herself.

A lady who had given her valuable ring to one of the needy persons she visited at the instigation of Sister Rosalie, came one day to complain, for, when she had called back, the woman, instead of having pawned the ring, was wearing it sparkling on her finger. Sister was plainly amused. “It is not a serious affair, Madam,” she said, “you must forgive her; perhaps the wearing of this ring is the only pleasure she has had in her life.”

At her desk one day, Sister Rosalie was listening to the story of a poor neighbour, telling of her troubles. Her quick eye noticed that the caller was feeling the cold. “You are cold,” she said, “you need to wear more clothes. Wait till I see,” and she went off to return with a sound, warm petticoat. “Put that on, and you will feel better,” was all she said. . . . But as the day wore on Sister Rosalie became pale with cold herself, for she had robbed herself to meet this need.

Among her visitors she had Bishops and Generals, Ministers of State and the Police, and on one occasion in 1852, the Emperor Napoleon III and the Empress came to thank her for her universal charity to the Parisians. As General Cavaignac, the Chief of the Army, was talking to her one day the Angelus bell rang from the local church. “Shall we say the Angelus together ?” she asked, and, of course, they did.

REVOLUTIONS AND REFUGEES

Living in the heart of Paris from 1802 till 1856, Sister Rosalie could not escape contact with the Revolutions there in 1830 and 1848, and she proved her heroism again and again in these events. In her quarter of the city, the rising was not general in 1830, but that did not prevent her house being used as an ambulance station for the wounded of the regular army and the rebels. She knew many of them on both sides personally through having helped them in her charity through the years. Her courage, her gratitude and her reputation are well emphasized in an account of one of her exploits. A certain Joseph Bavcoffe, a compatriot and friend of the Rendu family, who had been an officer of the Polish Lancers with Napoleon in the retreat from Moscow, and was now an officer of the National Guard, and a benefactor and frequent visitor at the house in the Rue d’Epee de Bois, was reported missing during the July Revolution. His wife came to Sister Rosalie to ask her help. The Sister set off at once alone through the barricaded streets, risking the flying bullets, climbing over the barricades, enquiring for Commandant Bavcoffe. Her cornette was familiar to the rioters and the soldiers, and admiring her hardihood, they allowed her to pass on. She crossed the River Seine into the centre of the city, all in turmoil, and in front of the City Hall was told that the Commandant was among the dead in the Square. With help, she recovered him from the heap of corpses, to find that he was still breathing, although riddled with shot in the chest and with the fingers of his right hand slashed off. She had him quickly carried back to his home, where she left him in the care of his wife and children to be fully restored to health.

With the same calm and fortitude, she stopped a gang of incendiaries, who were about to burn down an orphanage, by her very presence and kind words to them; they even organized a guard for the house, and the order was given: “No noise; these little girls and their guardians must be allowed to have their sleep.”-It was no ordinary person that could exercise such influence and command such regard and respect.

She gave sanctuary to another notable person in these days. Her friends let her know of plans for attacking and sacking the Archbishop’s residence, near Notre Dame Cathedral. This was done in February, 1831, when the house was pillaged and the books, pictures and furniture thrown into the river; the building itself was ruined and partly demolished. Meantime, following her timely warning, Archbishop de Quelen was in the quiet safety and solitude of Sister Rosalie’s house in the street of the “Wooden Sword.”

Further small risings in 1832 and 1834 brought more care to Sister Rosalie. Some persons took refuge with her, and she provided them with means of escape. One was an officer of the Royal Guard, now sought by the police on account of his defection from duty. Order was given to arrest Sister Rosalie for her complicity, but the officer appointed to do this remarked to his Chief that this would surely bring on another upheaval in that district, since she was a power to be reckoned with there. So the Prefect of Police himself went to visit her. Making him wait whilst she attended to her aged and poor, she asked what she could do for him. He did not want a service, he said, but came to do one. “You are seriously compromised by helping the escape of an ex-Royal Guard officer; you acted in violation of the law.” “Sir,” she replied,” I have no flag; as you know, I am a Daughter of Charity, and I try to help the unfortunate everywhere I meet them. If ever you yourself are hunted and ask help of me, it will not be refused.” She was impenitent and clung to her point of view, for she could not think of herself as being in any least way responsible for bringing about any of the common executions or of bringing further misfortune to any of her children.

REVOLUTION OF 1848

Unrest continued for some years, in greater or less degree, until social conditions in 1848 brought complete lockouts from the workshops, and one hundred thousand men were out of work and wages. In June rebellion reached its height. General Cavaignac was in command of 50,000 regular army troops, who in a few days quelled the revolt, in which 16,000 men perished. The General had sent a warning to Sister Rosalie that her quarter of the city would be bombed, and offered her and her Sisters a safe conduct out of the area; she and they gratefully refused it, preferring to stay among their poor to assist them in their time of terror.

In these hectic days a barricade was thrown up across the lower end of the Rue d’Epee de Bois. In an assault upon it, an officer of the Mobile Guard, with his squad of men, had climbed over it. They were all shot down except himself. Alone among the rebels, he raced a few yards down the street, before they had realized the position, and into the courtyard of the Sisters. He was followed at once, but Sister Rosalie was there. She stood in front of the officer, facing his pursuers as they handled their rifles. “You don’t kill anyone here,” she said. “Well, we’ll take him outside,” one of them replied. But she stood firm, protecting her refugee. Their rifles were raised to shoot over her shoulders, when she went down on her knees in front of them. “In the name of my fifty years’ service to you and your wives and children, I beg for safety and escape for this man,” she said. The rifles were lowered and his captors departed. A picture that became a common ornament in the poor homes of the Moufftard Quarter represents this incident.

Sister Rosalie was not afraid to be out on the streets in this time of carnage and strife. “Why should I be safe and run no risk when my children are being slaughtered ?” she asked those who urged her to stay indoors. Archbishop Affre had gone on a peace mission with a white flag of truce to one of the barricades, when he was shot down by a stray bullet and mortally wounded. Her small figure moved around the fighting zones, and whilst other areas were still in battle, peace and quiet came to her district. “Have I not enough widows and orphans to look after, without you making more ?” she asked the men at the crossroads barricade.

CROSS OF THE LEGION OF HONOUR

Not only were the people in admiration of her bravery and her zeal in doing good, but the Government also resolved to mark its appreciation. She was cited for the Cross of the Legion of Honour-the highest award of France. This was a trial for her humility, and she strove to have the award cancelled. However, she was duly invested and the Cross pinned on her collar, amid the great joy and pleasure of her friends and clients in the neighbourhood. After that she would allow no further reference to it, and never wore the decoration again. Later in 1854, the Emperor Napoleon III called to visit her, when he said: “You do not wear the Cross of Honour I sent you ? I will send you another which I hope you will wear.” And he sent her a gold cross enclosing some relics of St. Vincent de Paul.

There were twenty years of troubled times, of incessant relief works, of sharing the misfortunes and calamities of her disturbed people, leading to this public recognition of her merits. But her service had been for God in the person of His poor and distressed, and it continued for another twelve years.

HER LAST YEARS

As her years of life mounted, her health, severely taxed for many a day, gave room for anxiety. With spells of sickness of varying length during the 1840’s, she kept her hand guiding all her varied undertakings. Around 1854 her sight began to fail, and she had to rely in great measure on the attentions of her Sisters. An operation to remove cataract in 1855 improved her sight for a short time; then she became totally blind. A second operation was planned, but early in February, 1856, she fell gravely ill with pleurisy. The severe remedies of the time were tried, giving her reason for keen suffering, which she bore gladly and patiently.

She had always feared death and the Justice of God. It was towards the end of her days that she had a dream that impressed her very much. She felt she was at God’s tribunal, where she was received very severely and her sentence was about to be given, when suddenly she was surrounded by a crowd of people wearing old shoes and stockings and hats, which they showed Our Lord, saying: “She gave us all these things.” Then Our Lord turned to her and said: “Because of all these old clothes and things given in my name, I will open the gate of Heaven to you. Come in, and stay forever.” The dream was a reflection of the sound words of St. Vincent: “Those who have loved the Poor during life, will have no fear of death,” and Sister Rosalie gained calm and serene confidence during the latter days of her life.

Her malady grew worse. She was given Extreme Unction and her last gesture was in making the sign of the Cross, whilst her last words were: “My poor, my children! When I am no longer here, my God, please do not abandon them.” After a short illness of three days, she gave back her soul to God on the 7th of February, 1856. She was seventy years of age, and now at rest after fifty-four years of ceaseless care and labour for her and God’s poor.

Her life was not mere activity for its own sake, nor an outlet for personal energy or the love of command, but it was rooted in her belief of God’s truths and promises; it was the supernatural growth from her prayer and meditations, from her fervent use of the Sacraments and of the common devotions of her Community, which inflamed her charity and gave her a constant outlook of Faith upon all the events and persons she had to meet; and whilst she laboured in the corporal works of Mercy, it was always the eternal salvation of souls redeemed by the Blood of Christ that she had in mind.

She lived in extraordinary times, for full fifty years of revolutions and risings and their aftermath, and in the ferment of one of the extraordinary quarters of Paris. How could her life be ordinary, dull and routine? New plans and new works had to be begun, without notice, in emergencies, to suit the changing social circumstances.

An intrepid soul, breaking her way through obstacles, facing difficulties squarely, winning her wishes and spreading peace; opposed to all evil, promoting charity and friendship and goodwill everywhere she went; forgetful of self and mindful of others; burning with zeal, guided by a well-balanced prudence; brave and fearless in the tumults of her time where the poor needed her succour; tender and patient in her dealings with her Sisters and her restless clients; moved by supernatural motives and urged by her love of God, the power of her whole life was drawn from the divine sources of prayer and of the grace and strength of God and faithfulness to her religious duties poured out in His Sacraments.

She had extraordinary qualities for her extraordinary life, and it is no wonder that, in February 1951, the Superiors of the Company of the Daughters of Charity of St. Vincent de Paul asked the present Archbishop of Paris, Cardinal Feltin, to undertake the Introduction of the Case for her Canonization. This cause is now progressing; a prayer, authorized in Paris in 1936, is printed at the close of this pamphlet, asking God for the Beatification of this Servant of the Poor.

HER FUNERAL

It was chiefly the poor who buried her. There was no work that day for her friends in the Mouffetard Quarter. All gathered at the parish church of St. Medard and followed the hearse to the Cemetery of Montparnasse, where she was buried in the vaults of the Daughters of Charity.

Within a short time some of her friends got leave to give her a special grave, which they could visit, in one of the cemetery avenues, above which they placed a slab inscribed:

“To Sister Rosalie from her Grateful Friends the Poor and the Rich.”

Unknown hands still place flowers upon it in gratitude.

Prayer to ask for the Beatification of Sister Rosalie

Lord Jesus, Whose Divine Heart, Furnace of ardent charity, so kindled the heart of the admirable Sister Rosalie Rendu with such a burning love of God and her neighbour, grant, we beseech Thee, that the power of her intercession with You may be shown by such great miracles, that soon, by the Authority of Your Church, she may be recognized and proclaimed Blessed; Who livest and reignest world without end. Amen.

Nihil obstat

W. M. COLLINS, Censor Dioc.

Imprimatur :

@ D. MANNIX,

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis. 271h August, 1956

Skirting The Difference

WHAT’S WRONG WITH WOMEN WEARING TROUSERS

BY DR CAROL BYRNE

INDEX

The ancient Egyptians were afflicted with plagues of various kinds—blood, frogs, lice, beasts, cattle, boils, hail, locusts, and darkness—each one more deadly than the one before, but the last and worst has been reserved for our times: a plague of legs. They get everywhere now that women have adopted the trouser culture. Once not considered in keeping with sartorial propriety, everywhere in the Western world trousers on women now predominate. If you walk down the street of any city or town, the proportion of women wearing trousers to skirts is something like 10:1. The fashion has become so institutionalised that some women can be said to ‘live in trousers.’ For nearly 6,000 years, women always wore long dresses, but only since the last 40 years, a dress is suddenly “impractical” to wear. Formerly, women performed a wide variety of jobs, including farming, in skirts. Nowadays, they can’t so much as rake a few leaves in the garden without feeling the need to put on a pair of pants.

THE MORAL CONSENSUS

Feminine modesty has been understood as being distinctive from its male counterpart in every society since the dawn of history, even in places where God’s word has never reached. (St Thomas Aquinas holds that the behaviour of all is subject to moral judgement, whether or not they know of the Revelation of Christianity.) Women have never, in the entire history of civilization, in any era from earliest antiquity or in any part of the world until our times, stalked about in trousers that delineated the lower half of their body and gave visual prominence to their hips and legs. Why not? Because they had the good sense to realise their physical vulnerability as the ‘weaker vessel’ vis-à-vis male readiness to exploit it, and besides, they wanted to be cherished and respected for their personal qualities other than their physical endowments. The fundamental issue is that a bifurcated garment worn as outer attire was considered by people of all civilisations, even the most barbarian and pagan, to infringe basic levels of feminine decency and identity.

The custom of women wearing trousers did not start with Catholic women. Like the New Mass, the fashion was inaugurated and promoted by liberal-minded people, particularly feminist agitators, intent on discarding Christian traditions and altering people’s understanding of Christian values. (It is true that the Dress Reform Movement was also a protest against the cruelly restrictive clothing of the 19th century that was injurious to women’s health, but there are modest and immodest solutions to every problem.) Just like the New Mass which broke with the whole of liturgical tradition, the custom has in no way developed from the innate sense of decency passed down from one Catholic woman to another throughout 2000 years of the Church’s influence on society. The skirt-trouser dichotomy had become established within all civilisations, including Christian culture, as one of the main differences between men’s and women’s clothing. Only very recently has this difference been obscured.

As we shall see later, Catholic clergy, nuns and educators before the Council denounced the fashion of women wearing trousers as unbecoming in the sense of being unfeminine (appropriate only for men) and indecent (inviting immodest regard). Thus, in the period before Vatican II, a Catholic dress code for girls and women was closely linked with the concept of feminine decorum and the avoidance of the occasion of sin. From their knowledge of the Gospels in which Our Lord demanded purity in glances, thoughts, desires and actions and warned against giving scandal, Christians generally understood that immodesty is related to lust and causes temptation to others. And so a moral conscience was formed which told them that immodesty, particularly in a woman because of her nature as the temptress of man, involves an offence against God and a lack of respect for ourselves and our neighbour. Not to disapprove of trousers for women is to shrug aside the seriousness of the situation.

* In non-Christian countries such as India and parts of the Far East, where women wore trousers, they took care to cover them amply with a flowing robe or a long tunic that concealed the outline of their body below the waist.

* Among Eskimo women and those who inhabited the Polar region there was a tradition of wearing long dresses made of hide or an ensemble consisting of seal skin leggings worn under a poncho-style garment that descended well below the knees. Whether they were the early Celts or Vikings or the women of the tribe of Attila the Hun who swept down from the Steppes of Central Asia, there is no recorded case of a fashion for women to wear trousers as an outer garment until the 20th century.

* In the eighteenth century, the Empress Elizabeth of Russia known as the “Merry Tsarina” organised costume balls in which she regularly required that women dress as men and vice versa. Trousers were indeed worn by women as part of a fancy dress costume but they were only partly visible under shortened skirts, and their use was restricted only to a frivolous occasion.

* During the Napoleonic era and in the American War of Independence there were women volunteers called “vivandieres” and “cantinieres” who wore trousers as part of the military uniform. These were the “filles du régiment,” wives, mothers and daughters who followed their men to war to share the dangers of battle and the hardships of life in the camps. They braved the bullets to administer sustenance to the soldiers and tend the wounded. The important feature of their uniform was that all wore calf-length dresses over trousers or baggy “Zouave” (Turkish-style) pantaloons.

* Moralists of all denominations raged throughout the Victorian era against the emergent fashion of trousers on women. Amelia Bloomer gave her name to a revolutionary style of dressing, but even her ‘shocking’ innovation (1851) that sent ripples of indignation through polite society and drew fiery condemnations from every pulpit, came with a mid-length skirt worn over billowy pantaloons that were tied at the ankle.

* There is no doubt that from Victorian times women wearing trousers were considered both immodest and unfeminine. The early feminists who wore trousers were often lampooned in the press in their attempt to ape manliness. A common criticism was that trousers gave a woman “an extremely mannish look.”

*Here is what G.K. Chesterton thought about women wearing trousers:

“And since we are talking here chiefly in types and symbols, perhaps as good an embodiment as any of the idea may be found in the mere fact of a woman wearing a skirt. It is highly typical of the rabid plagiarism which now passes everywhere for emancipation, that a little while ago it was common for an “advanced” woman to claim the right to wear trousers; a right about as GROTESQUE as the right to wear a false nose . . . It is quite certain that the skirt means female dignity.”

This commentary was written in 1910 when the custom was in its infancy; it may be a century old, but it is even more relevant in our times than it was in Chesterton’s.

* All dictionaries up to the early 20th century defined “trousers” as “a garment worn by males.” This identification of trousers as a male garment did not change until the 60s after women began to liberate their legs publicly in the 50s, thus altering the public perception.

* In wartime, women workers in munitions factories wore dungarees under overalls.

It is evident that trousers were historically associated with men, and wherever they were adopted by women they were subject to ‘purdah,’ that is skirted around by cultural restrictions and limited to specific circumstances. There is thus no recorded history of women adopting the fashion of wearing trousers like their menfolk until the 20th century.

We can deduce two things from this enduring and universal phenomenon:

- a moral consensus, based on instinctual feelings of shamefacedness, existed up to modern times among all women, and that their desire to conceal rather than reveal was not a social construct but a natural reaction.

- trousers as an outer garment are not and never have been feminine apparel, and by putting them on women (with a different designer label) does not make them any less men’s clothing.

This evidence quite escapes those who deny the significance for our time of God’s edict given to Moses: “A woman shall not be clothed with a man’s apparel; neither shall a man use woman’s apparel: for he that doeth these things is abominable before God “ (Deuteronomy 22:5). The mere mention of such an edict is enough to make some people hiss “Old Testament fundamentalist” in my direction, but it was the basis on which the Church formed her teaching that women must dress in a distinctively feminine manner and be modest in heart as well as apparel (I Peter 3:3–4).

THE CHURCH’S TEACHING BEFORE VATICAN II

The Church’s teaching on dress is an authority prevailing over every social tendency and every fashionable choice, because it was to her and not to society that Christ entrusted the supernatural wisdom to discern what constitutes a spiritual danger and to fight soul-destroying customs such as immodest and egalitarian clothing. Many of us are too quick to write off the Church when it comes to subjects like trousers on women. It is claimed that the Magisterium has not issued any prohibition on them and that in dubiis libertas (where a doubt exists freedom should be granted). But this argument overlooks the fact that it was only in the second half of the 20th century that women in general began to exchange their skirts for trousers, and that by the time this fashionable option had become widespread, the postConciliar Church had fallen silent, having already adopted a more indulgent attitude to the question of modesty in general and the sins of the flesh in particular. It is hardly to be expected that in their condemnation of immodest fashions the pre-Conciliar Popes would have given particular emphasis to a fashion that was rarely seen in public. (Certainly before 1960 it was unheard of for women to wear trousers to church). However, it was customary before the Council for individual bishops, especially in Catholic countries such as Ireland, Italy and Latin America, to make statements regarding the unacceptability of trousers on women.

The Archbishop of Dublin and Primate of Ireland, John Charles McQuaid C.S.Sp., was well known for his tirades against women wearing trousers. He continually denounced women’s participation in athletics for reason of dress in mixed company. For example, in a sermon to a congregation in his native Cavan, he voiced his opposition to young women rowers being dressed in men’s scanty athletic attire. There is no doubt that throughout his lengthy career (he reigned for more than three decades from 1940 to 1972 before resigning in 1972 in disgust at the reforms of Vatican II and dying, they say, broken-hearted the following year), the legendary Archbishop McQuaid exerted an enormous influence on every aspect of Catholic Ireland. It was common knowledge that Dr McQuaid had a direct influence on University College Dublin, and this has been confirmed with the recent opening of the Archbishop’s archives. I have a vivid recollection of an incident that occurred during my university days in Dublin when a foreign female student wearing trousers was approached by a woman official and asked to leave the premises because she had infringed the dress code. What would McQuaid have said about today’s trousered women? He would have used up all his vocabulary, and have had nothing left but tears.

The last official document on the subject was, significantly, issued shortly before Vatican II. It took the form of a letter by Cardinal Siri of Genoa warning all the clergy, teaching sisters, those involved in Catholic Action, and educators in his diocese, of the grave dangers in women wearing trousers. Written on the 12th June 1960 at a time when Italy was more or less still a Catholic country, the letter addressed people who still had some instinctual sensibilities concerning modesty, formed by centuries of Catholic culture. Its very title, “Notification concerning men’s dress worn by women,” indicates that slacks and shorts were considered as men’s clothing, and that the fact that the offending garments were tailored for the female figure and therefore not bought in the menswear department of clothes shops, does not justify their adoption by women.

Cardinal Siri condemned trousers on women from a two-fold perspective: firstly that they involved a degree of immodesty (albeit not as grave as abbreviated skirts), and secondly that they were a symbol of feminist ideology,”the visible aid to bring about a mental attitude of being “like a man”.” (Incidentally this is exactly what Bishop de Castro Mayer meant when he said that trousers were even worse than mini-skirts because the latter attacked the senses while the former attacked the mind, thus constituting an ideological weapon in the feminist battle for the de-feminising of women). Since the clothing a person wears “modifies that person’s gestures, attitudes and behaviour,” the Cardinal predicted that the change from skirts to trousers would modify the Christian perception of womanhood as essentially ordered towards motherhood, and that it would subvert the divinely ordained order in which the husband is the protector of his wife and head of the family.

Alas, it has all co me to pass as he had forecast: women have adopted men’s dress, and there has been a wholesale paradigmshift in society’s perception of femininity. Misled by the tenets of feminist dogma, women are being won over to the idea that the Catholic teaching of the man being the head of the woman and family is all irrelevant nonsense, and totally absurd in the modern world. The effect of this is to blur God’s purposes in giving men and women distinctive, though complementary, roles in society, and to abolish the “headship of man” doctrine in every area of life—Church, family, education, government etc. As Cardinal Siri put it:

“First, the wearing of men’s dress by women affects the woman herself, by changing the feminine psychology proper to women; second, it affects the woman as wife of her husband, by tending to vitiate relationships between the sexes; and third, it affects the woman as mother of her children by harming her dignity in her children’s eyes. . . . This changing of the feminine psychology does fundamental, and, in the long run, irreparable damage to the family, to conjugal fidelity, to human affections and to human society . . . Nobody stands to gain by helping to bring about a future age of vagueness, ambiguity, imperfection and, in a word, monstrosities.”

Because shorts and slacks break both the modesty and gender barriers, we have a superb medley of immodesty AND ‘masculinity’ all gift-wrapped nicely for today´s modern career woman!

HOW TEACHING SISTERS SHAPED CATHOLIC CULTURE

When I went to a convent school in England in the late 1950s, the Headmistress would give each year group fortnightly tutorials designed to prepare Catholic girls for the temptations and dangers to the life of the soul that they would face in the modern world. Among the warnings and admonitions, the following three items were candidates for the greatest condemnation by the teaching sisters: television, pop music and women’s trousers. All three were treated from the perspective of Original Sin and its effect of Concupiscence (a word, I recall, that almost stretched from one side of the blackboard to the other, and was the devil’s own job to spell) which leaves human nature vulnerable to the assaults of the devil. We were admonished to discipline our senses, sanctify our souls with the graces that make us pleasing to Our Lord and Our Lady and avoid the ‘broad path’ of modern fashions influenced by pop psychology and television culture which threaten our souls with spiritual dangers.

As so little has been written in appreciation of teaching orders of nuns, it is easy to underestimate the tremendous impact that women religious had on the development of Catholicism before the Council and the strength of the Catholic Church in the British Isles as in other countries of the world. The very cohesiveness of a large congregation of women religious in every area allowed them far more influence over the minds of their pupils than any group of lay women could have exerted in the same period. Their presence was a major force for moral rectitude and stability in every neighbourhood where they taught the faith and helped young girls to conduct their lives according to Catholic principles. In the 1950s, convent schools were so prevalent that it was impossible for them not to influence the outlook of Catholic girls with regard to modesty in dress.

The Church’s interpretation of what constitutes modesty in dress was hugely influential in Catholic countries principally because it was preached and defended by popes, bishops, clergy and religious and echoed by lay teachers in charge of young people in their formative years. It is not exaggerating to say that if the adoption of a Catholic dress code for girls is attributable to any sector of the Church more than others, that sector was the congregations of teaching sisters from which it received its most powerful impetus and orientation. In the days before the Council, good Catholic girls and women dressed decently because they had learned repeatedly from their earliest years to subordinate their own opinions and desires to the standards that were required of them. I know for a fact that even in Irish Primary Schools the teaching sisters operated a strict dress code: mothers who had sent their girls to school in too short dresses would find their daughters returned to them at the end of the day with a strip of paper pinned to the end of the dress to show the required length!

In Ireland, women teachers were trained in Catholic colleges such as the Mary Immaculate Teacher Training College in Limerick, run by the Sisters of Mercy. The nuns taught their students the moral principles governing feminine modesty which they, in turn, were to pass on to their future pupils. We can gather some insights into what this entailed from a journal produced in 1927 by the trainee teachers. Echoing the Irish Bishops’ concern about the spread of what they termed “indecent fashions,” they launched “the Mary Immaculate Modest Dress and Deportment Crusade” with the intention of rescuing “Irish maidenhood from the grip of the pagan world.” Among the articles of attire to be reprobated were trousers, referred to as “mannish and immodest” dress.

In promoting modesty in dress for those under their charge, teaching sisters were complying with Rome’s decrees. In 1930 Pope Pius XI had directed the Sacred Congregation of the Council to issue a strongly-worded Letter on Christian Modesty to the whole world (as had Pope Benedict XV before him):

“Nuns, in compliance with the Letter dated August 23, 1928, by the Sacred Congregation of Religious, must not receive in their colleges, schools, oratories or recreation grounds, or, if once admitted, tolerate girls who are not dressed with Christian modesty; said Nuns, in addition, should do their utmost so that love for holy chastity and Christian modesty may become deeply rooted in the hearts of their pupils.”

The same message was reinforced in all Catholic schools, colleges and universities before the Council. The only concession made for gymnastics and sports in convent schools was shorts of the culotte type with boxed pleats reaching almost to the knee, and then only in an all-girl setting.

ONCE A CONVENT GIRL . .

There’s something about a convent girl who received her education before Vatican II that marks her out from other girls of her generation: she has had her conscience formed by the teaching sisters in the basic moral principles of obedience and chastity, with the word MODESTY branded in letters of fire on her subconscious mind. True modesty, they taught, begins in the soul which must be protected from being laid open to dangers. Girls were admonished never to lose their innocence, always to avoid anything that might rob them of it, such as immodest fashions, and to fight like heroines to preserve it at all costs. Their role model was St Maria Goretti, the Italian girl canonised in 1950 who died in 1902 heroically defending her purity. Modesty was therefore taught as an inner virtue—one of the twelve fruits of the Holy Ghost—and the true cause and ground for outer modesty as expressed in one’s attire. Whether or not the convent educated girl always adhered to a Catholic dress code outside school life, an inescapable sense of ‘shamefacedness’ remained long after she has left school, and she carried this principle in her innermost mind even if she could not always articulate it with reasoned arguments.

Whereas other girls have no reliable standards by which to judge modest dress (some fundamentalist Protestant sects use biblical references to preach feminine modesty, but do so using their own interpretation), the convent girl has been gradually educated in responsibility towards the moral well being of herself and others. As Pope Pius XII put it:

“without the faith, without Christian education, deprived of the help of the Church, where can bewildered woman find the courage to face unfalteringly moral demands surpassing purely human strength? “

THE SEDUCTION OF VATICAN II

Adapting Catholic morals to the modern world, as Vatican II did, had disastrous effects. When the Council called for an adaptation of the Church to the Modern World, what it was saying is that the Church needed to end the separation between the religious life and worldly life and conform herself to the values of the world. Belief in the supernatural was assimilated into faith in naturalism, and the distinction between the two was lost. This change is of paramount importance to what happened next: religious orders of nuns were among the first to embrace the Vatican II reforms both in their own communities and in the wider world. Caught up in the current of the New Thinking, the sisters were like sitting ducks: the best they could do was to take a defensive stand in a situation that was indefensible, and they were an easy target with no chance of escaping the hunter. Most took to the reforms like ducks to water. Whether they were progressives or conservatives in their outlook, all were obliged to adopt a more indulgent, admiring view of the modern world and its fashions and stop regarding it as a spiritual enemy. No longer shocked at the sight of women in trousers, they got into them themselves and mounted the sanctuary steps where they continue to challenge the supremacy of the all-male priesthood.

With the disappearance of an authoritative guide from our religious leaders on a Catholic dress code, the New Thinking affected the Church in its membership and social and cultural environment. It is well known that when the practice of modesty, like any other moral principle, has simply become a matter left to the individual’s sense of responsibility, it is gradually forgotten. Unfortunately, modern Popes have not given specific advice on women and trousers, priests have failed in their duty to give the traditional moral guidance, and women have been left unprotected by their pastors. If they are not guided in this matter by Popes, women will be guided by the bad example of their peers, by fashion designers and retailers who have a financial interest in promoting trends, and by feminists with an ideological agenda to tear down the conventions that Christian civilisation has established as safeguards of the virtue of purity.

The implications for women’s fashions are clear: we now have a relativisation of standards of decency and loss of a sense of decorum. Nobody blushes any more—or hardly. This relativism has slowly weakened in consciences the notions of good and evil, sin and grace, vice and virtue, and, by analogy, the standards of modesty in dress. It has led to a curious irony—the modernist clergy, brazen in defending the freedom of women to wear trousers even in church, are bashful when it comes to preaching about modesty! What a shocking indictment on the blindness produced by too much exposure to the world: they do not see a violation of modesty in women wearing trousers or a profanation of holy places by such attire. Instead of exhorting their flocks to transcend the pressures of fashion, modernist clergy have laughingly adopted the “New Morality” including a “New Modesty” (they regard the ‘old modesty’ as a joke!) which allows immodest styles of clothing to be worn in church. The silence of the clergy, indeed their laxist complicity with immodest clothing, provides the means for women to pursue their own pleasure, comfort and convenience with the Church assisting them. It is one thing to tolerate wrongdoing by being silent when God’s laws are mocked. It is something else to contribute to it by not working to eradicate it as best as one can.

Certainly the Society of St Pius X cannot be accused of turning a blind eye to the problem. By speaking out against immodest fashions, traditional priests are fulfilling Pope Pius XI’s exhortation:

“Let parish priests and preachers, according to the recommendation of Saint Paul, and as the occasion presents itself, “insist, explain, reprove and exhort,” to the end that women should dress in such a way as to radiate modesty, and their clothing enhance and protect virtue. Let them, also, admonish parents not to allow their daughters to wear immodest outfits.”

Bishop Williamson was right in line with traditional Catholic morality when he said: “Let not wild horses drag you into shorts or trousers.” and “Let the wife then sacrifice her own will, her emancipation, her trousers, her money and pseudo-career in order to attain the glorious freedom of motherhood to bring into the world and raise whatever children God sends.” He was only fulfilling his duty as envisioned by Pope Pius XI:

“Nothing is more reasonable or more necessary than that the Bishops—as is fitting for ministers of Christ—should, with one voice, raise a barrier against these bold and licentious fashions, bearing with serenity and courage the insults and mockery which they will receive, because of their unyielding position . . .”

“YOU’VE FORGOTTEN YOUR SKIRT!”

Some Catholic girls and women can be incredibly naive about the effects of immodesty; they sincerely want to lead a Christian life, but seem to be unaware of the link between a chaste heart and a chaste appearance, and of their potential for leading others astray. Pope Pius XII warned:

Numbers of believing and pious women . . . in accepting to follow certain bold fashions, break down, by their example, the resistance of many other women to such fashions, which may become for them the cause of spiritual ruin. As long as these provocative styles remain identified with women of doubtful virtue, good women do not dare to follow them; but once these styles have been accepted by women of good reputation, decent women soon follow their example, and are carried along by the tide into possible disaster.

Pope Pius XII did not mention any particular article of clothing by name—modesty and discretion would prevent him from doing so—but it is obvious that shorts and slacks come under his censure as being “bold” and “provocative.” In contrast to modern Popes who praise women’s participation in sports that require such clothing, Pope Pius XII warned against them. It is reasonable to assume that if he condemned athletic outfits for women on the sports field and in the gym, he would have been even more critical of their adoption for everyday life.

NO SUCH THING AS MODEST TROUSERS ON WOMEN

If women are “dressing to kill” these days, there is no doubt that they have succeeded in killing the morals of men and endangering their souls by wearing provocative styles, particularly midriff-baring tops and how-low-can-you-go jeans. Some women appear to have been melted down and poured into their garments. A good question to ask oneself by way of analogy is: “Which outlines the form of the hand more—a mitten or a glove?” and then apply the question to a skirt and a pair of trousers, both of which provide adequate coverage. It is obvious that there can be varying degrees of immodesty depending on the cut of the trousers, but that there is no such thing as ‘modest’ trousers—they may look modest on the clothes rack, but they behave like any other trousers when you put them on. The ‘crux’ of the matter, (if you get my meaning), is that even if trouser legs are of generous width and not particularly clinging, the fitted area is bound to offset the female form to a greater or lesser extent, and its very visibility is what causes an immodest impression to be fixed in the mind. Any woman who does not agree should take a long, hard look in the mirror and try to see herself as others (especially men) see her! Perhaps then she will agree that trousers reveal much more than gender.

LET’S TALK MODESTY—AND HONESTY

Women often say they wear slacks because they are more comfortable or convenient for getting in and out of cars, warmer in winter etc., and shorts because the weather is hot (but it is even hotter in Purgatory!). But with a little of the ingenuity and resourcefulness for which women are famed, a judicious combination of articles of apparel can be chosen from among the contents of a woman’s wardrobe to enable her to wear skirts for many occasions—windy days and sub-zero temperatures, cycling, hiking and riding side-saddle, for instance—all without the need to wear trousers. There are some sporting activities which cannot be done in a skirt and so must be out of bounds for women. Sacrificing convenience and freedom is not easily done, but if a more restricted life-style for the sake of modesty and propriety is the path of greater holiness, it is also potentially one of greater sacrifice and will bring its rewards in increased graces.

Let us be perfectly honest: even if an individual does not comply with the surrounding a-moral culture, it is giving the wrong message for a Catholic woman to don trousers which align her with the outward appearance of those who wish to detach themselves from a Christian way of life. After all, what would people think if you walked into a room wearing a tee-shirt with a large swastika emblazoned on it? If you are not a Nazi sympathiser, why give the impression of being one? Yet there are Catholic women even in traditionalist circles who, while not fitting the strict definition of “feminist,” nevertheless reflect that ethos to some degree, not least in their vehement protest against anyone declaring trousers as unsuitable attire for women. Feminism is so pervasive in our society that traces of the feminist mindset can be found even among those Catholics who would disavow the feminist label.

CONCLUSION

The key to the whole issue is for women to dress in a feminine manner so as to communicate the language of submission and acceptance of womanhood rather than the language of rebellion and rejection of God’s design. As Christian women, we have a biblical obligation to dress modestly and reflect holiness, and so we should dress in a feminine manner, to show that we accept the place God has given us in the Church, in the family and in society,. God’s message about modesty may seem embarrassingly old-fashioned in our culture, but God’s word does not change. There are no general circumstances either in the past or present which mitigate or set aside this teaching. While it is acceptable to have feminised forms of coats, hats, shoes etc., trousers are in a category of their own because of the area of the body on which they are worn and their inherent “suggestiveness.” It will never be right for women to overshadow or displace traditional Catholic teaching by claiming the right to wear trousers.

If we judge the question in the light of the virtual collapse of the Catholic Church in society after more than forty years of religiously neutral teaching, it would suggest that the trouser culture, insofar as its basic premises have now become enshrined in society, has indeed served to injure Catholicism and the overall social good. It has the effect of undermining the priority, both in public and then in private life, of supernatural or spiritual reality.

Part of the problem is that what was taught before the Council as Catholic morality is now viewed as a threat to the liberal values of tolerance, individual freedom and egalitarianism—all of which have become the orthodoxy of the age. This means that, in practice, the pre-Conciliar condemnation of trousers comes into conflict with the self-serving tendency in (wo)man. It is seen as being contrary to the freedom of the individual and likely to frustrate her selffulfilment and/or happiness. But St Thomas shows that the punishment for Original Sin was not only the subordination of woman to man but its unpleasantness, and that woman would not always be readily obedient.

Has the trouser culture really elevated our uniqueness as women? Has it contributed to an increase in chivalry from men? On the contrary, the fashion has become counter-productive for women: their dignity has been lowered both in the eyes of society and of their own children as fashions have become bolder, their innate sensitivity to immodesty has been blunted by sensual overload their minds have been ideologically corrupted by feminist thinking so that they have generally rejected God’s design for the family there is widespread confusion in society about what constitutes femininity and masculinity the de-feminising effect of trousers on the younger generation is unedifying. Young girls of today have, for the most part, worn trousers most of their life, and as a result they tend to behave like boys. It is little wonder that they feel uncomfortable in dresses and that, as Pope Pius XII noted, they have lost the instinct for modesty. Our age has witnessed a general coarsening of conversation and manners among young girls at a time of their life when they should be learning Mary-like standards of modesty and deportment.

The women’s trouser culture is one of the most insidious by-products of modern liberalism, and it is therefore not surprising that all it has promoted is moral frivolity and exhibitionism, confusion, the debasement of women, a coarsening of attitudes among women themselves and a lowering of moral tone in society.

We need to rescue the Christian concept of womanhood from modern society’s confusion over marital duties and family life. In order to maintain standards of decency in dress, women need the graces that come from frequent prayer. They also need the moral support of their menfolk: in the first place of the Holy Father, then of the hierarchy, clergy and religious and also of their husbands. But women have been spiritually short-changed and woefully let down by the silence of the Magisterium after the Council. However, there is the other side of the coin: the problem of the unruly wife and the passion with which some women pursue the ‘right’ to wear trousers. Instead of having a “gentle and quiet spirit” (1 Pet. 3:4), they frustrate their husband’s attempts to counsel them by continually usurping his authority in the home. The Magisterium may be silent, but women are vocal!

The plague of legs is a just punishment. Here are some wise words from Fr Gruner:

“God allows us to be punished by the silence of the Magisterium today for the sins of not obeying the Magisterium when it spoke up: just as God, as punishment, did not send more prophets to the people of the Old Testament after the people had killed and rejected many of the prophets He had already sent to them.”

For those who are new to Catholic morality, or who are unaware of what the Church has taught before the Council, it would be good to cultivate the habit of thinking that if the Church has preached against women wearing trousers, then somewhere there is a good case for believing it drawn from Revelation, Tradition or natural reason. They would do well to heed the teachings of the Society priests as they strive to inculcate a spirit of purity and awaken a sense of the angelic virtue among the young. The result would be perfectly Catholic: modern ‘Bloomerites’ who still cling doggedly on to the trouser-leg of feminist culture should stay at home to look after their children and cut their trousers into strips to make mops.

********

So We Abolished The Chaperone

BY DANIEL A. LORD, S.J

INDEX

It had been a good movie (motion picture, if you happen to have Hollywood’s dislike for the word movie), and the Bradley twins had thoroughly enjoyed it. Lots of action, plenty of romance, a good dash of boisterous but clean comedy, amusing lines, surprise, suspense, and a final chase, resulting in the near death of the hero before the fade-out.

So, after getting a hamburger and a soda, they dropped their dates and drove home, at peace with the world. Sue’s mind was still a bit preoccupied with the hero of the picture (in certain ways he was not unlike the young man she had met during the Christmas holidays). Whenever Dick saw an exciting picture, he was always left with the feeling that he, too, could lick the world. Somehow, as the hero flashed his blade and held off half a dozen trained fencers as if he were encased in high-powered steel, Dick found himself doing precisely the same magnificent deeds. And any heroine, blonde, brunette, or redhead, bore for the duration of the picture-and for a few hours afterwards-a striking resemblance to Sue; at least, Sue always thought so.

STRAIGHT TO FOOD

They put the car in the garage and thumped up into the house, the noise that they were making clearly indicating that the night was relatively young. Since dad and mother had gone to hear”Parsifal,” which lasted until well after midnight from well before dinner, the twins had caught a late-afternoon sandwich, picked up their companions of the evening, and seen the earliest show.

“I asked Hester to leave food,” Sue explained, unnecessarily, as they opened the hall door. “In spite of the hamburger I”m ready for more.”

Dick shook a tolerant but deliberately perplexed head.

“Girls” capacity for food amazes me,” he said. “You must eat your weight in sandwiches every twentyfour hours.”

“You’re confusing me with a robin,” Sue retorted.

“You’re both about the same: You eat your weight in sandwiches; the robin eats its weight in worms.”

“Don’t be disgusting. Anyhow I”ve never heard you refuse a sandwich. . . .”

UNEXPECTED GUEST

Sue stopped. They had shed their topcoats and extraordinarily bright scarfs and flung their gloves on to the hall table. The lights in the hall were on. But they noticed to their surprise, as they turned toward the dining room, that the lights there were brightly burning, too.

“Well!” said Sue, the instinctive housewife, “it was nice of Hester to leave food, but we could have turned on the lights ourselves. After all, having these lights burning since she went up to her room. . . .”

Dick, full of the spirit of the motion picture’s adventure, instinctively thought of thieves. In fact, he had to fight a strong hope that there might be thieves in the house. Tyrone Power had handled a brace of robbers with a candelabra; and Dick realized that, if Hester had set the table properly, there was in the dining room a brace of candelabra all ready to be swung at the heads of . . .

Simultaneously the twins said: “Let’s go . . .” But Sue ended the sentence with “eat” and Dick with “see,” a lack of choral effect which they failed to notice. For just at that moment a cheery voice called from the dining room:

“Hurry up, you youngsters. I”m on my third sandwich now. And if you don’t get here, blame yourselves for your starvation.”

“Father Hall!” they shouted together, and dashed toward the dining room.

FRIEND INDEED

“Come in! come in!” he cried, as they appeared in the doorway. “Make yourselves right at home. Act as if you lived here. I”m doing it.”

He certainly was.

Hester, the faithful cook of the Bradley family, had left a positive fortification of sandwiches in expectation of their return-and of the possibility of their bringing home with them a young raiding force. Near the sandwiches was a powerful outwork of chocolate cake, and two thermos bottles flanked the solid food.

Only it happened that Father Hall had already made preliminary forays into the embattled food. His cup was still half filled with hot chocolate. His plate bore the crumbs of demolished sandwiches. He gestured a welcome with the hand in which he held a sandwich.

“Why Father!” Sue cried. “You didn’t let us know you were coming to town.”

““Indeed, and I did,” he retorted. “I wired late this afternoon. But with the father and mother of the family off for the opera, dinnerless, and the twins patronizing the earliest of the early movies, nobody was here to get my wire. So Hester let me in, and my own ingenuity led me to the sandwiches. My bags are parked in the guest room upstairs; I shall pass the night under this hospitable roof; and I shall be on the road to Lakeside after Mass at St. Joseph’s Hospital in the morning.”

RETROSPECT

“Delighted!” said Dick, sincerely. So it was a matter of shaking hands all round before the twins settled down in adjacent chairs and completed the capitulation of the barricades of food.

They talked of new ski-ing boots, their plans for a small, swift motorboatfor the summer, and Sue’s art-class projects in wax; of the dinner they’d attended on the preceding evening, and of dictators who’d replaced kings. . . . And then, naturally, the conversation drifted to the picture they had seen and enjoyed.

“He’s really so goodlooking,” commented Sue, not realizing that she was taking for granted the proper name of that he. “And he had a new leading lady. I wonder just how she managed that smooth look of her hair.”

“Why do we have to live in an age when you can shoot at a fellow only through a twenty-mile gun and a table of logarithms?” Dick was stifling sighs, too. “In those days you gave a man a horse, a rapier . . . and it was his courage against the world. Today man doesn’t fight against man; he is pitted against a tank.”

“It is all so romantic,” Father Hall agreed. “Garden walls . . . and soldiers with flowing capes . . . and balconies . . . and duennas. . . .”

DUENNAS

Sue laughed deliberately.

“You really should have seen that duenna tonight, Father.” She was amused all the way through. “Edna May Oliver, you know, and she’s such a delightful fool. She followed the poor girl around like a particularly black shadow. Every time the girl and the hero met, up popped the duenna. Poor kids! They had all the privacy of a couple in a subway station at rush hour.”

Dick poured himself another cup of chocolate.

“Silly custom, the duenna,” he said. “I like the romantic part of an age like that-the fighting and the riding and the free life. But duennas? Thanks be, we’ve got over them. I”m powerful glad we’ve abolished the chaperone,” he said with mock solemnity.

WHAT’S ‘CHAPERONE’?

Father Hall’s face took on a look of solemnity.

“The chaperone?” he inquired, as if the word puzzled him.

“You know,” Sue explained, unnecessarily, “that funny old-maid aunt who acted as female policeman when boys and girls got together.”

Father Hall shook his head dubiously. “Didn’t I see one of them stuffed in the Smithsonian?” he asked. “Probably,” Dick agreed. “Right next to the case with the dodo and the roc and the other extinct birds.” They all laughed.

“Whenever you run across a duenna or a chaperone in a book, she’s always a comic character, isn’t she?” Sue laughed again, as she thought of the plight of many a chaperone in literature.

“Pretty much like the ancient Keystone cops,” agreed Father Hall.

JUST THINK OF IT!

“Just imagine,” said Dick, “a world in which every girl had a duenna! and every time boy met girl, a chaperone popped out of the underbrush!”

“Marmaduke goes courting Clarabella,” continued Sue. “They meet in the parlour, and all evening long mama or Aunt Mathilda or Cousin Hyacinthe sits guard, one eye on her knitting and one eye on the happy young couple.”

“And when Marmaduke takes Clarabella on a picnic, he carries up the hill to the picnic spot first the baskets and then Aunt Sophrinisba.”

“What a pleasant time is had by all!” Father Hall joined in the laughter. The pictures the twins painted were funny enough, no doubt of that. And Father could understand why the duenna or chaperone was a subject for so much comedy. The same element of essential dignity that makes the policeman a target for dramatic humour marks the chaperone for low comedy.

“Anyhow, I”m glad I live in a chaperone-less age,” said Dick. “I don’t need a female cop watching me.”

“Me either,” Sue agreed, ungrammatically.

WHAT, NONE AT ALL?

“Don’t you ever have chaperones any more?” asked Father Hall, for a moment genuinely perplexed. “Oh, on parties we generally have some-mothers and fathers of the gang, friends of the school, you see. But the kids usually have something to do with the picking of their chaperones. And we manage to pick “em a little blind and deaf and lame. Anyhow, they know they’re ornaments, like the potted palms and the flowers. They stay where nothing is likely to happen. Chaperones shouldn’t be seen or heard.”

“Nice,” said Father Hall, without any particular inflection. He didn’t want to stop the flow of conversation. “The whole idea was so loony,” Dick continued. “Pretending that young people couldn’t be together without getting into trouble. Just imagine a poor fellow inviting a girl to see a show and then having to buy a third ticket for Aunt Bertha! Or taking a girl out for a ride and having to park Miss Nosey Whatsername in the rumble seat! Ironage stuff!”

Sue wrinkled her forehead in thought. “I wonder how the idea of chaperones ever started? Who thought it up?”

SILLY STUFF

Father Hall kept his voice light.

“Oh, some old fogy, I suppose. He-or possibly she-got the entirely silly and stupid idea that young people are hotblooded. Without having any slightest reason for thinking that way, they imagined that young men and young women might get into trouble if they were left alone together too much.I don’t know where on earth they dug up such a silly, unfounded notion, but they fancied that young men and boys might have a lot of temptations-and girls might be tempted, too-and that it wasn’t smart to give temptation too much opportunity to operate.

“Then they had another crazy idea: They thought that future mothers ought to be protected against the weakness or selfishness or possible poaching of the male of the species. Of course, everyone knows that men are always strong and unselfish and never, never poach; so the whole plan of the chaperone was just a waste of time.

“I suppose the old skin -andbones dried herring who first thought up the idea (it was probably somebody’s relic of a father or antique of a mother or thwarted-in-love Aunt Kate) knew nothing whatever of life. He or she had never been any place or done anything. He didn’t know that on a date young men are always gentlemen and young girls always ladies, and that the men always brought the ladies home intact. He really thought that the young people might be not only tempted to misbehave a little but might-if they had the chance-actually misbehave. He didn’t know that young people have far, far fewer temptations than older people have; that youth has, through long years of experience, learned selfmastery and self-control; that youth can be trusted to be ladies or gentlemen anywhere, at any time, with anyone; that young people are always intent on safe-guarding themselves and their future as mothers or fathers.

“Isn’t it amazing what absolutely mad ideas oldsters get?”

KIDDING?

Dick and Sue had, through this amazing series of sentences, been watching their priest friend with growing astonishment. At first they took his words literally. Then they began to realize that he was talking in reverse English. Dick’s face flushed a little as it dawned on him that he was being “joshed”-and that without too much finesse or delicacy. When the priest ended his talk with a deep draught of chocolate, the twins interchanged one of their quick “entre-nous” glances.

Then Dick said, in a low, hurtindignant voice, “What’s the big idea? Putting us on?”

“Me?” The priest’s eyes were wide in innocence. “Putting you on? Why, my dear young friends . . .”

“Don’t my-dear-youngfriends us,” retorted Sue. “We won’t be put in our place like that.”

“Who’s putting whom in whose place?” Father Hall replied, all open-eyed amazement.

The twins looked at him with undisguised suspicion. Dick finally rumbled, way back near his collar line:

“I still think the whole chaperone idea was nonsense. And I”m glad we don’t have chaperones any more.”

YOU ASKED: WE AGREED

Father Hall pushed his plate a little away from him and watched the young people tear into second sandwiches as if the food were some argument they intended to destroy. He produced, filled, and lighted his pipe.

“All right,” he said. “You asked us to abolish the chaperone, and we did. Now she walks through formal affairs like a sort of pleasantly wistful figure out of the past. She knows better than to try to interfere with young people at their parties. Except at big gatherings, she hardly exists any more.

“You can take a young lady to a movie or to the theatre, Dick, and no third person tags along to watch over the pair of you. You get an invitation for a ride or a picnic, Sue, and you all trek off with only your guardian angels for companions. When twocouples go off for the evening, there’s no fifth wheel in evidence. You lead your social lives minus chaperones. You asked for that, and we let you have it.”

“Fine!” said Dick.

“Second the motion,” added Sue.

Father Hall blew out a cloud of gray-blue smoke that settled amid the crystals of the light fixture over the table. He fixed his gaze upon the cloud as if it were filled with visions or with loitering planes ready to swoop down.

YOU SAID ALL THIS

“We abolished the chaperone,” he repeated. “You see we are a trustful lot, we oldsters, and we believe what you youngsters tell us about yourselves.”

The twins looked up suddenly and then looked down at their plates once more. “You told us some things about yourselves that we liked to hear. You said, with great emphasis, “Look here, you old people: We don’t need anyone to watch us. We’re trustworthy, we are. Leave us alone; throw us on our own; you needn’t be afraid that we’ll do anything to shame you or ourselves.”

“You gave us a very logical and convincing argument. You said, “Don’t you see, you old-timers you, that the mere presence of the chaperone is a kind of challenge? The very fact that she’s there makes us think that you old-timers expect us to misbehave. She acts as if we were all headed for mischief. Maybe we never even thought of misbehaving. Maybe we were a mile away from mischief. But her very presence in our midst challenges us to see what we can get by with; suggests that we OUGHT to be tempted; makes us think about misbehaving. So, you see, far from being a reason for our being good, a chaperone is positively an incentive for our being bad. If you’ll get rid of her, we won’t even think of evil. Remove her, and we’ll be amazingly good.” Very convincing . . . very, very convincing indeed.

YOUNG MEN PROMISED

“Then up spoke the young men. “Listen, you old dodderers: Young men are by nature chivalrous. We’ll take care of the young women if you’ll just trust us. Oh, I know; there is the predatory type among us, the kind that goes about seeking whom he may devour. But even that kind of man respects the fine, decent girl. He may try something with a loose girl, a girl from the underworld or the halfworld. But he’s known as a cad and a scamp if he tries anything low with a girl who may one day be his own wife or the wife of one of his friends. Trust us. We’re knights in the making and in fact. If you’ll abolish the chaperone, we young men will take care of your young women far better than they have ever been taken care of. Quite a speech, eh, Dick? Yes; quite a speech.”

Dick was very busy with his sandwich.

GIRLS PLEDGED

Father Hall turned to Sue.

“As for the girls, with tears in their eyes they told us how we had misjudged them. “We need a chaperone? Oh, how could you think such things? Beli eve us, we can be trusted. We are good. We’ll stay good. You don’t have to worry about us; not a bit. It is our lovely task to inspire young men to goodness, and we can do that most effectively when there is no chaperone haunting us.

“ “But if by any unbe lievable chance some young man did forget himself, tried some familiarity that we should rightly resent, some suggestion or gesture that was an insult to our goodness, you may be sure we’d resent it most emphatically. No chaperone could ever protect us so carefully as we will protect ourselves. We promise you that with all our hearts.”

“Very good indeed, Sue. And we oldsters listened and were proud.”

YOU CONVINCED US

The priest blew another bank of clouds to the ceiling of the room.

“Well, you were all very convincing, you young people. We heard you guarantee your trustworthiness and pooh-pooh any need for supervision. You protested your goodness and virtue -not too much but enough to be very persuading. The young men boasted of their strength. The young women modestly stressed their virtue. And you made us feel that we had long been insulting you by our thinking that it was smart to have an older person around during your recreation, not to spoil your good times, of course, but merely to make less likely the danger of evil times and the sad consequences of evil.”

The priest didn’t look at either of the twins. In fact, he seemed bent on locating that vision or those planes in the clouds of tobacco smoke.

“So all this preamble leads to a simple question, or maybe a series of interlocked questions. You don’t have to answer the questions if you don’t want to. But here’s a preliminary statement:

“You asked us to trust you and to abolish the chaperone. In the main, we have done as you’ve asked.

AND SO?

“Now the questions, and you can talk up.

“Are young people today notably good? Have the young men been protecting the young women? Have the young women been as careful of their conduct as they would have been under the eyes of a duenna?

“What about the parties, the dances, that happen to be unchaperoned or chaperoned by someone who is blind or lame?

“When young people go out together in a car, is their conduct the kind of which we’d approve for the future mo thers and fathers of our race, the strong young sons and lovely daughters of Christ?

“Now that you have experimented without chaperones in your social life, do you find that youthful virtue is triumphant over vice? Have you proved to us that you need no supervising? That you are even better without an older person’s overseeing than you would be with it?

“You made certain guarantees when you asked us to abolish the chaperone. You’re honest young people. You mean to tell the truth. You mean to keep your promises.

“Well, what about all these questions? Suppose you tell me?”

THE STRANGE ANSWER

Dick let out a snort that sounded suspiciously like a choked fit of laughter. Sue answered with a nervous little giggle high in the roof of her mouth.

Then there was silence.

Father Hall spread his hands in an expressive gesture.

“Well, kids, I put those same questions to a crowd of college students at a convention once, and they answered me in exactly the same way that you’ve answered-with half a laugh and a nervousgiggle. Why? Go ahead; don’t hold it back. Tell me why that was their answer and yours.”

But Dick and Sue were singularly without reply.

Father Hall tamped his tobacco with a hardened thumb.

“That,” said he, slowly, “is, I”m very much afraid, your answer.” He continued as slowly. “Parents, modern parents who love their children perhaps too foolishly, let young people go out together in cars, on picnics, even across the face of the map. Dick and Sue, believe me; I think you’re fine, and I believe in both of you. But what’s this I hear about parked cars? What about the conduct of boys and girls when they are off alone together? You tell me. I”m not a youngster any longer, so all I know is what I hear or what the young people tell me. Are you proud of your contemporaries, very proud of their truthworthiness? Do you think they’ve been faithful to the guarantees they made when they asked us to abolish the chaperone?”

WE TRY

Dick swallowed something more than part of his sandwich.

“Oh,” he said, “young people will be young people.”

“Which, said the priest, quietly, “is precisely the reason why once on a time old people decided to have chaperones for young people.”

Sue kept her eyes fixed on a remote object.

“I think we can say honestly, Father, that Dick and I are trying to be decent. I think that necking is cheap and that parking for purpose of necking is inexcusable. I don’t think I have to pay for a movie and a soda by letting my escort make love to me. I don’t think Dick expects that sort of thing from the girls he takes out. We have our ideals, and we try to live up to them. But there are a lot of young people . . . Dick knows them . . I know them, too. . . .”

Her voice trailed off into silence. Nobody spoke for a minute or two, and then it was Sue who resumed.

CHAPERONES AGAIN?

“What are you trying to do, Father? Re-establish the chaperone idea?”

“Gosh,” groaned Dick, “I can’t see it! Me taking a girl out with a spinster aunt trailing along behind us?” “This isn’t Spain of the seventeenth century.”

“You might as well bring back swords and flowing cloaks.”

Father Hall’s clear, honest laughter relieved the tension.

“You know me well enough,” he said “to be sure that I”m not trying to thrust anything-chaperone, duenna, swords, flowing cloaks-on either of you. But I”m willing to make the two of you a little bet, which unfortunately I may not live to collect. I”11 bet that you put some kind of chaperonage back when you, Sue, are a mother, and you, Dick, are a father.”

WHEN YOU HAVE CHILDREN

They looked at him, half in doubt, half in agreement.

“You see, you are going to remember the temptations that you saw unchaperoned youth encounter. You’re going to think of the dangers you yourselves ran. You’re goin g to recall how your contemporaries, boys and girls from good homes with fine family traditions, went more than a little wild when they were turned loose and had nothing to protect them but their honour and their common sense. The result of all this recalling is going to be-or I miss my guess and lose my bet- that you’ll decide not to let your beloved sons and daughters run risks like those your contemporaries ran.

“Here’s a very modern young man who thinks that it’s quite all right conveniently to run out of gas on the top of a shady hill. In a few years he marries. Many years later his charming daughter is at the dating age. A young man comes calling in a coupe. What do you want to bet that dad will think a couple of times before he allows daughter to go off with the young man-alone?

“Here’s a very modern young woman who has had to suffer being bothered by some slightly spiflicated youth who just can’t keep his hands where they belong. In time she marries and has a fine young boy. Comes the day when the boy wants to take a girl out on a picnic-alone. I”11 be willing to double my former bet that the mother does a lot of thinking before she says, “Perfectly all right, my dear.”

TRUST, BUT?

“I have never conducted anything for young people-parties, conventions, outings, pilgrimages-without providing most careful supervision. That’s because I remember the temptations of youth. That’s because I love youth. I can honestly say that the supervision I have provided has never been even slightly obtrusive or annoying. I know that it has never cut down anyone’s legitimate fun the least bit. The fact is that I love youth, you young people, too much to increase your problems in life by placing you where temptation might be easy and its gratification simple.

“And though we have, in the main, taken you youngsters at your word and trusted you, I wonder how far you will trust your own children, since you know what you know of the general trustworthiness of your associates.”

Neither Dick nor Sue spoke. Dick was concentrating elaborately on a large block of chocolate cake that needed undivided attention. Sue was diligently stirring a cup of chocolate, in which the sugar had long since dissolved beyond any further need of rotary motion.

YOUR PLEDGED WORD

“Then the answer is chaperones?” Sue said, at last, in a question.

“As you yourselves will probably solve it later, yes. Though don’t get me wrong about that. I”m not thinking about a gaunt female with a mantilla over her head and a look on her face that would sour milk.

“But that’s not the immediate question. I”m thinking less of chaperones and duennas than of you. You young people made us promises. How have you kept them? You were proud to believe. Are those things true? We fulfilled our part of the bargain. We said, “All right, then; you’re trustworthy, all of you. We can count on you boys to protect the girls. We can be sure that you girls will set high ideals for the young men you go with. We hereby abolish the chaperone.” We did our part. So what?

“Well, if I were a young person. I should consider myself bound by an implicit contract. If in a war a gentleman officer who is a prisoner gives his word not to try to escape, his guards are removed; he would consider it the most frightful breach of honour to try to escape. Any honourable person who is party to a contract breaks his neck if it is necessary to fulfil his part of the agreement.

IT’S UP TO YOU

“Well, we accepted your words; we told you that we had faith in you, and we settled back to watch all of you make good. Shouldn’t you be ashamed of yourselves if you fall short of our faith? And shouldn’t you consider that young man or woman who failed a real traitor to youth?

“I hate to think that the graceful, beautiful figure of the chaperone has disappeared from our parties and receptions. Let’s hope that you’ll have sense enough to be glad when some older person is willing to be with you when you are having a good time.

“But it seems to me that on the unchaperoned occasions which constitute most of your social life right now the whole problem is on your shoulders. You said that you young men were chivalrous. Fine. Then make good. You said that you young women were pure and decent and knew how to take care of yourselves. Splendid. But do more than just say these things; prove them. You said with all the emphasis of youthful honesty that you didn’t need anybody to watch you, that you could be good and could stay good on yourown. That’s a large order. You had better be doing all you can to prove that you are not liars or the worst type of self-deceivers.

NOT FOOLING US

“You see, while we oldsters are a trustful lot, we’re not blind. And when you think you’re fooling us, the plain fact is that you are fooling yourselves. The young man who says, “I don’t need any chaperone,” when he really means, “I don’t want to be annoyed with having to look out for a chaperone,” isn’t fooling us. We know why he dislikes chaperones. And you know why, too.

“The young woman who says, “Chaperones are obsolete-we girls know how to take care of ourselves”-may be telling the truth. I”d like to think that she is. If what she really means is, “Chaperones are a nuisance-we would get into hot water if one of them saw what we are doing,” it doesn’t take us long to catch on. She’s kidding only herself.

“But the result is that a lot of decent young men and pure young women who probably don’t need chaperones to watch over them are going to suffer for the scamps who use the absence of a chaperone to get away with murder. The whole mass of young people must bear the reputation of the liars and the treaty breakers, who have used the repeal of the chaperone as a repeal of the laws of common decency and human safety.

A NEW SOCIETY-MAYBE

“Let’s start a new society. No; I take that back. I don’t want to have anything to do with it. An oldster like me has no right to try to thrust a thing like this on you youngsters. But how about your starting a new society?”

“What’s it to be for?” asked Dick, interested.

“What’s it to be called?” asked Sue, thinking at once of a possible name.

“I”11 bet it’s going to be a society to abolish something,” said Dick, trying to be light and facetious.

“Oh, another anti-something-orother society,” groaned Sue.

The priest looked at them challengingly. “What a minute, you two. Have you in all your dealings with me ever known me to start a society agin” anything?”

“We were funnin”,” said Sue, apologetically.

“Go ahead,” Dick supplemented. “We’re listening.”

“Well, my society-rather the society I”d like to see you start-would have for its purpose simply this: to make it unnecessary ever to bring back the chaperone.”

TOO EASY?

“My stars!”“ cried Dick. “I thought you were making a plea for chaperones.”

“You thought nothing of the sort,” retorted the priest. “not if you’ve been listening to me with even a fraction of your not-overample mind.”

“Ouch!”

“Give it to him, Father,” scoffed Sue. “Him and his two-for-aquarter mind!”

“Call her off, Father. It’s bad enough to have you making me feel like a heel and one of a generation of heels.” Dick was quasihumorous, or, as the Irish put it, half joking, whole earnest. “How does our society go about achieving its noble purpose? Down with chaperones? Never may they wave? And when we accomplish our purpose, what do we do to make it a permanent accomplishment?”

Father Hall knocked the ashes out of his pipe and bit on the stem.

“That’s easy. In fact it’s so easy that I”m almost afraid that it won’t be done. You see, human beings get all het up over hard things, and they tackle them with vim, vigour, and vibrancy. But simple things . . . Who wants to tackle simple things?

CHIVALRY-1958

“Well, chaperones really wouldn’t be necessary if young men were chivalrous and young women were charming and good.

“So, our society would aim first at the establishment of real chivalry among young men which would be asking the young men to be, in reality, no more than what they have always liked to pretend they are.

“The chivalrous young man going out with a young woman remembers that the name he bears for the evening is escort. That word is used to designate the cruisers that protect a line of merchantmen during a war. The job of an escort is to protect that which is being escorted. What would you think of an escort cruiser that suddenly started to try to sink the ship it was sent to protect?”

“The commander of that escort ship would be hung from the yardarm,” replied Dick, promptly.

“Spoken like an old salt-or a reader of Conrad and Nordhoff and Hall. He’d be hung for a traitor.

ESCORT

“So out into the evening goes the young man escorting the girl. He is by virtue of his title supposed to protect her. Indeed, he insists with indignant emphasis that he is a representative of the stronger sex. Woman is the frail vessel- which term we can for the minute consider as another nautical term. The young man is to protect the young girl against all molestation. Any insult to her is an insult to him. Certainly with even more force he is to protect her-and himself- against any treasonable gesture on his part. This is a frail vessel in his keeping, and he is certainly not going to be the one to sink it.

“That’s the idea.

“Now, I”m far from young, and I am really far from the young, too. But if the floating rumours that come to my ear have any degree of truth in them, the attitude of many an escort who takes a young girl under his protecting wing may be expressedin any of these rather current and practised principles,” said Father Hall, taking his napkin and using it as if it were a document.

A CODE -OF HOW NOT TO BE A CIVILIZED CHRISTIAN GENTLEMAN-IS THIS YOU ON A DATE? THIS CODE IS AN ADVOCATE OF THE DEVIL.

“Code of a Modern Young Man Escorting a Young Lady for the Evening.

“Rule One: It’s up to the girl. If she wants to be good and is willing to struggle for her goodness, I suppose I”11 have to comply with her wishes. If she lets me get away with murder, then it’s her responsibility.

“Rule Two: Every young man should find out as soon as possible how much a girl will let him get away with.

“Rule Three: If a girl says no, pretend that she has said yes. No doesn’t mean no unless it is accompanied by a persistent and vigorous struggle.

“Rule Four: If you have paid for a girl’s evening, she ought to be willing to pay you back, which she can do only by permitting you familiarities that are the accepted signs of love.

“Rule Five: Chivalry is a fine thing in poetry; it has no place in a taxicab.

“Rule Six: Knights are as extinct as dragons. Maidens in distress, however, are the normal development of an evening.”

PROTECTOR

Father Hall paused. The inclination of the twins was to laugh. The whole roster sounded so absurd. But even as they started to laugh a sense of the unfortunate truth behind Father Hall’s pretended document hit them both and made them feel decidedly sheepish.

So Father Hall continued.

“Now, my new society, which either is going to be your society or isn’t going to be at all, will start off by reminding the young man that, since he is a civilized Christian gentleman, he is supposed to be master of his lower nature. He is not supposed to be a ravening wolf making life difficult for the girl who goes out with him for an evening. He is supposed to be the protector of the weaker sex. Certainly nothing in his nature or his training could justify his being the peril against which she must constantly be on guard.

“He is the logical successor of the true knights. Dragons snorting fire and brimstone may all be dead; dragons snorting cigarette smoke and the fumes of too much alcohol are very, very much alive. Wizards no longer threaten fair maidens; young men with the charm of a smooth line and a polished approach are quite too common.

And evil men are still wandering the world in quest of fair victims.

KNIGHTS

“It was assigned to the Christian gentleman to protect woman against these perils. Certainly he resorts to the lowest form of treason if he becomes one of her perils, perhaps her most pressing, dangerous, and insistent peril.

“By the lovely intention of the God of nature, by the strength of his own body, and by the training of Christian tradition, man is supposed to be the protector of woman. He should be quick to resent any phrase that would-to use the ancient and consecrated word-sully her ear. I don’t quite see as fitting into that picture the boy who insists on a girl’s listening to his dirty stories, do you?

“The finest concept-whatever the actual practice-of man’s relationship to a woman is man the champion of all women and against all forms of evil. He, the strong man on horseback (that is what we mean by the cavalier), protects the woman against all possible harm.

“Naturally, any smart man, any man who knows anything about himself, realizes that there is no evil against which woman has to be more carefully protected than against the passion in his own heart.

LET’S SKIP . .

“Beautiful picture, isn’t it? How does it check with the facts as you find them to-day, Dick? Or shall we skip that?” “I know, Father,” said Dick. “Honestly, I do try to keep that ideal. But, anyhow, you tell us. Skip my answers, will you?”

Father Hall nodded.

“Consider them skipped,” he replied.

“So the chaperone disappeared. And I think that at this point I can again thrust in that nasty little phrase: So what? The chaperone disappeared; the police protection was removed; the safety of young women was left to chivalrous young men. And I”m inclined to think that too, too many of the chivalrous of our nation got down from their horses and became dragons snorting temptations, wizards spinning the magic web of a line, hunters of willing and unwilling womanhood.

“I”m not calling the chaperone back-not just yet. But would you or wouldn’t you say that in the world to-day there is a job for her?”

AS FOR GIRLS . .

Neither of the twins answered that one. So Father Hall filled his pipe again, and Sue knew that the next barrage would be over her lines. She braced herself. After all, she and Dick had started the discussion. But finishing it. . . . She found that a phrase was humming in her brain: Don’t start anything you can’t finish. It made her smile. Also, it made her a little uncomfortable.

“Well, Sue,” the priest resumed, “the modern girl was liberated from the chaperone. She was turned loose to take care of herself. Of course, she had assured us with emphasis that she was quite able to take care of herself. She knew her way around. She was even more certain of her ability to handle her own problems. She was good. She was virtuous. She was strong. And we could trust her.

“The current issue of one of our supposedly important illustrated magazines (why read when you can look at pictures?) has an important article on the college girl. The technique she employs to get her man is described and illustrated. If twenty years ago in the 1930s a woman of the street tried such tactics, she was clapped into the nearest goal. Those tactics are vulgar, crude, indecent. And the girls who are using them to-day are the American elite, the foremost representatives of the brains, beauty and home training of the country.

“What about it ?”

WHAT DO GIRLS EXPECT?

“Surely, Father,” Sue cried, impulsively, “you don’t think I”m like that.”

Father Hall’s tone was deep and serious. “I”m sure you’re not like that. But do you or do you not think that girls of that type need a chaperone or even positive police protection when they go out with a young man? Would you say that such girls justified young women’s claim to trustworthiness?

“I”ve talked with quite a number of young men on the subject of girls. They are brutally frank about their own faults and inconsistencies, and they are not too kind in their judgement on the girls. One young man-merely the spokesman for dozens I”ve met who have a like viewpoint-said to me recently: “Don’t blame us, Father. If you go out with a girl and you don’t make a pass at her, she thinks you don’t like her. She probably looks at herself in the mirror when she gets home and wonders what’s wrong. Do you think we fellows make the advances? Well, we do. But you’d be surprised if you knew how often those advances are made in response to the frankest of invitations from the girls.”

“Know any girls like that, Sue?”

Sue sought refuge in equivocation. “Must a girl tell on her own sex?”

“Let’s skip that, too,” said Dick.

BETRAYED BY GIRLS

“Fine; consider it skipped,” the priest replied. “But your new and as -yet-nameless society will have as its second method of obtaining its objective a few simple rules for girls.

“Girls won’t need a chaperone when they have acquired a high respect for themselves . . . when they have taken it for granted. not that the young man is going to make the evening difficult, but that he is going to be an escort and a protector . . . when they begin to remember their world importance as future mothers . . . when they once more hold up before young men high ideals.

“Right now I wonder.

“I”d say that girls have betrayed girls pretty badly. Too many girls have taken advantage of the no-chaperone custom to such an extent that they’ve made things pretty difficult for other girls. Every girl who is easy makes the going tough for the rest of womankind. The young man who finds a lot of girls quite willing to go his casual way soon takes it for granted that he is irresistible, or that girls like to be annoyed. So he treats with contempt and neglect any girl who has ideals. If some young man begins to be annoyingly amorous when he is with you, Sue, you can with perfect justice blame him. But you can also blame the last girl he went out with; probably by her ready acquiescence she made him think that you, her successor, would be easy, too.

“Your fair sisters have given you literally a dirty deal, Sue. All decent girls like yourself are suffering from betrayal by the careless members of your sex. So many girls have been easy that young men think most girls are easy. So many girls are morally pliant that they make it hard for the girls who want to be good. So many girls have taken advantage of the absent chaperone that nice girls who want to act as they would act were a chaperone present are regarded as sissies and prudes by a host of young men.

“Hence in your new society the young ladies are going to set their standards-sans chaperones-as high as they would set them if the chaperone were glaring down upon them. Their conscience and their ideals are going to be their chaperones; then they’ll need no other policing.

WHY PAY?

“It makes me sick when I realize that some young men think that a girl should pay her escort in mock affection and easy virtue. It makes me ill when I realize that girls should think it the men’s right to demand payment for the girl’s high and mighty privilege of having been taken out. We must provide self-protection if we are not going to have chaperones; and self-protection is based entirely on the value one sets on oneself. If one is precious, one protects oneself and demands that protection from others. If one is cheap-well, all the chaperones in the world won’t protect a girl who doesn’t think herself worth protecting.”

MOTTOES

“How about some mottoes for your society? How about something like this?

““We’re without chaperones because we don’t need chaperones.” Or,”

“Trust us minus chaperones, for we are worthy of our trust (and of your trust, too).” Or,”

“Trust us to protect ourselves; we believe we are worth protecting.” Any other ideas?”

“A lot of “em,” Dick replied, “but none of them has quite gelled as yet. Give me time.”

“I”11 take a longer lease, too, if I may,” said Sue.

“Granted to both,” Father Hall agreed. “Into the constitution of your society, however, you’ll write a few fundamental principles like these:

““The stronger sex will be really strong.”

““Before they ask respect from others, young women will respect themselves.”

““I need no chaperone but Christ and His mother.”

““You can trust us, for our ideals are high.”

““We cavaliers will protect young womanhood-mostly against ourselves.”

““We young women will expect our escorts to be knights without armour.”

RETURN

There was silence round the table. Suddenly the outer hall door opened, and a cheery voice, unmistakably that of

Bradley Père, sang out:

“Anybody still up?”

The three in the dining room answered with a single chord.

Mr. and Mrs. Bradley came into the room, and there were mutual greetings, welcomes, and queries. Then the father of the family slipped away “to get off this starched armour they call a dress shirt,” and the mother followed him, promising to return as soon as she had changed into a house dress.

“Funny,” said Sue, when Mr. and Mrs. had disappeared, “that dad and mother don’t seem to worry more than they do about-well, about what they ought to worryabout.”

Father Hall looked at the twins shrewdly.

“That, my lass, only goes to show how unobservant youth is. Worry? You bet they worry, and worry plenty. Of course, they feel that they can’t curtail your liberty in the face of the modern customs and your demands. But when you’re out, mother lies awake until you’re safely in the house . . . as you have certainly noticed. . . . Well, haven’t you?”

WORRIED?

Dick nodded wryly.

“It sometimes makes me a little angry; no matter what hour of the night . . .”

“ . . . or morning . . .”

“ . . . mother’s awake.”

“And dad worries, too,” Father Hall pursued. “When that young Smythe chap came for you, Sue, the night he was a little high, dad told me he wanted to boot him down the stairs. He was worried sick -his Sue going off in a car with a fellow whose eves were blurred with drink and whose hands were probably in the straying stage.”

Sue looked off into space.

“I didn’t think dad noticed,” she said.

“What do you kids think we oldsters are made of, quartersawed oak? When you started playing around with the Colvin girl last summer, Dick, (her language was that of a dock hand and her manners those of an exburlesque queen), don’t you think that your mother and your dad talked it over, with real worry gripping their hearts? You can bet they did. And I happen to know that they did.

INFORMAL CHAPERONES

“Well, because they’re splendid parents . . .”

“ . . . as wonderful as ever lived,” agreed Sue.

“Understatement,” appended Dick.

“ . . . they exercise an informal chaperonage that you know is there but that you don’t feel. All decent parents do that. If they don’t, if they simply toss their youngsters off as a dog does its pups, they’re not worthy of their tremendously responsible, God-given job. Your parents want youto have parties in the house here and at Lakeside; and they’re somewhere in the offing when the parties develop. They like to meet your friends-first of all because they are your friends, and then because they like to look them over. They know how to discourage the type of young person who needs a chaperone, a police escort, and a few members of the F.B.I.”

“Don’t I know though,” said Dick, a little ruefully.

“And when they ask you, “Where were you?” or “With whom were you?” they know, less from what you say than from the way in which you say it, how your evening has been. If your answers are vague, if you don’t tell them the names of your friends, but answer, “Oh, just some of the gang,” they wish all over again that the chaperone had not been abolished. When you tell them easily and gladly with whom you were and where you went and how much fun you had doing this or that. . . . . they are happy that they can trust their children even when there’s no chaperone to supervise them.

WHEN IT’S YOUR TURN

“S ome day when you, Sue, are a mother and you, Dick, are a father, and your youngsters sally forth into the darkness, you’ll follow them with yearning heart and the winged angels of prayer. If the chaperone hasn’t been reinstated by that time, you’ll do your share of worrying, too. That will be a bit of the balancing of accounts with your mother and your dad, who worry about you out of their deep love for you.”

Bradley Père came back wearing a lounging robe and a soft shirt.

“That’s better,” he said, of his own attire. “Well, what have you three been talking about?”

“Believe it or not, dad . . .” Sue began.

“Chaperones.” Dick concluded.

Mr. Bradley laughed.

“Days of my youth!” he replied. “Whatever got you on an ancient institution like that?” Then he stopped laughing, and for the first time Dick and Sue understood the almost brooding look that came into his eyes, as he said, under his breath yet audibly, “I wish to high heaven they had “em nowadays.”

Nobody said anything. But their guardian angels heard the twins, who, in their deepest souls, determined not to need any chaperonage other than their own strength, honour, high ideals, and purity.

********

So You Think You’re Saved!

THE “JUSTIFIED-BY-FAITH ONLY” THEORY

BY REV. DR. L. RUMBLE, M.S.C

INDEX

We have all met the good and sincere religious enthusiast who is ready to inform everyone willing to listen that he is “only a sinner saved by grace.” He is a believer in “justification by faith alone.” Given the opportunity, he would probably go on to saythat he believes in “full, free and present salvation;” full salvation, because Christ has done all on his behalf: free salvation, because he need not, and in fact cannot do anything of himself towards it; present salvation, because he is already saved.

T rue, he is still a “sinner”; nothing can alter that. But provided he has faith in the sense of trust in Christ, he is in God’s grace; not that there is any reality called grace within his soul-in that sense he is a “graceless” being still -but because Godlooks upon him with “favour” where before he had been the object of God’s “disfavour.” The change is solely in God’s disposition towards him because he has complied with the condition: “Believe in the Lord Jesus Christ and thou shalt be saved.” Acts 16:31.

BASIC PROTESTANT THEORY

Religious enthusiasts who speak in such a way are staking all on the one single doctrine which, more than any other, accounts for the separation of millions of professing Christians throughout the world from the Catholic Church.

Ultimately, all other differences in teaching or worship or discipline can be traced back to this one particular belief, the Protestant theory of justification by faith alone.

Not without reason, therefore, did the film in the early 1950”s, “Martin Luther,” introduce as one of its dramatic highlights the scene where Luther wrote with a flourish in the margin of his New Testament, and underscored with grim determination, the famous word “SOLAM,” meaning “alone,” opposite the text from Romans 3:28, “For we account a man to be justified by faith.” St. Paul wrote, according to the Latin text, “justificari hominem per fidem, not “per fidem solam”; but Dr. Martin Luther, having added the word “solam,” said he would have it so, and thus laid the foundation of the Protestant tradition which still survives after four centuries, but about which ever-increasing numbers of those committed to it are becoming unhappy.

There is no room for doubt that the central core of the message given to the world by the Protestant reformation is the doctrine of justification by faith alone. Thus the Report of the Amsterdam Assembly of the World Council of Churches in 1948 declared that the deepest cleavage between Christians is “a whole corporate tradition of the understanding of Christian faith and life. We may illustrate this by saying that the emphasis usually called “Catholic” contains a primary insistence upon the visible continuity of the Church in the apostolic succession of the episcopate. The one usually called “Protestant” primarily emphasizes the initiative of the Word of God and the response of faith, focused in the doctrine of justification sola fide (by faith alone).

It is true that among many modern Protestant theologians there is a move towards a recovery of the Catholic outlook. Hence the publication of such books as “The Catholicity of Protestantism,” edited by the Rev. Dr. Newton Flew. But such theologians constitute only a minority voice among Protestants generally, the vast majority of whom lag far behind their leaders and take for granted their inherited tradition, absorbed by the one idea of justification by faith alone and making it almost the whole of their religion.

For their sakes an examination of this basic Protestant Doctrine is still necessary. But it will not be an easy task. The problem is a subtle and complicated one, of its very nature. All that can be promised is that every effort will be made to reduce things to the simplest terms in order to meet popular needs; talking the language of ordinary people, not that of advanced theologians who do not-yet, at least-represent the thinking of the rank and file among the adherents of their respective Churches.

MARTIN LUTHER’S DISCOVERY

To gain any worth-while understanding of this subject, it is necessary to have a least a working knowledge of its historical setting; and that leads to the hero of the film already mentioned, Martin Luther. There will be no room for more than the barest outline of his career. Our interest in this present booklet is not so much in his person as in the one basic teaching which led to all else in his new religion.

Martin Luther was born in 1483, entered an Augustinian Monastery in 1505, was ordained a priest in 1507, and engaged in teaching biblical theology from 1512 till 1517, lecturing chiefly on the Epistles of St. Paul.

A crisis in his life had begun to develop almost from the very commencement of his monastic life. Highly-strung, a prey to constant fears and scruples, he sought peace of mind in severe penances and other ascetical practices, although these alternated with periods of complete laxity which plunged him into still deeper anxiety and despair. He wanted at all costs to “feel good,” and he “felt bad.” At first he had no particular intellectual difficulties about the Catholic religion. His crisis arose out of a practical emotional need. And it was in 1508 that he first glimpsed what he persuaded himself might crisis arose out of a practical emotional need. And it was in 1508 that he first glimpsed what he persuaded himself might 17, St. Paul’s words: “The Gospel of Christ. . . . is the power of God unto salvation to everyone that believeth. . . . for therein is the righteousness of God revealed from faith to faith: as it is written, The just shall live by faith.”

The thought came to him that St. Paul meant nothing less than that the righteousness of God could be made our own simply by trusting in the righteousness of Christ; and that he had been wasting his time and his efforts in trying to do for himself what Christ had already done for him. A feeling of immense relief swept over him. He felt that he was saved, and that he could be saved in no other way than this.

When he began to teach theology, in 1512, he put forward his theory of justification by faith alone, of God’s forgiving love freely bestowed upon all who simply repent of their sins and trust in Christ. He convinced himself that that was the true faith of the Catholic Church; and he tried to combine his new-found doctrine with all other and normal teachings of Catholic theology.

Gradually, however, Luther encountered opposition to his new theory of justification by faith alone. On October 31, 1517, he published his 95 Theses on Indulgences, declaring that they destroyed the true spirit of repentance. Called to account, he refused to recant his views unless refuted by biblical evidence itself, refusing to accept the authority and traditional teachings of the Church as reliable sources of doctrine.

In 1520, he definitely broke with the Catholic Church, substituting for its authority that of the Bible as interpreted by each reader for himself. In a book, “The Liberty of a Christian Man,” he issued his proclamation that men are justified by faith alone, and that every Christian is his own priest, having direct access to God and needing neither a visible Church nor the mediation of any other priest. He translated the Bible into German so that people could read it for themselves; (Luther’s Bible was not the first German Bible) and, supported by some powerful German princes, he became the acknowledged leader of the Protestant reformation on the Continent of Europe.

There are innumerable aspects of this subject, whether bearing on the personal character and experiences of Martin Luther himself, upon the conditions prevailing among the clergy and laity of the Catholic Church at the time, and upon the political circumstances favourable to the propagation of the new religion. But with those we are not here concerned. The origin and development of the one new doctrine which led up to all else that went to the making of the Protestant outlook as contrasted with that of the Catholic Church provide us with the vital question we have to solve. Was Luther right in his interpretation of Romans 1:16–17, an interpretation which has had such tremendous consequences in the lives of so many millions of people during the past four centuries?

IDEA OF RIGHTEOUSNESS

All centres here upon the nature of the righteousness, justice or goodness to which man can attain, and upon the nature of the faith required in order to do so. Let us take first, therefore, the question of righteousness.

The Catholic Church teaches that at baptism (Jn. 3:5) the soul passes from a state of original or inherited sin to a state of grace (Rom. 6:23). God does not merely declare the soul to be righteous or just in His sight. He makes the soul holy in itself by producing within it, through the activity of the Holy Ghost, a supernatural quality of spiritual goodness which is a true regeneration, renewal or renovation (Tit. 3:5). This spiritual quality incorporates us in Christ as His very members (1 Cor. 6:15), makes us live by Him as the branches exist by the very life of the vine to which they belong (Jn. 15:5), and through Him enables us to become in a mysterious way sharers in the divine nature itself (2 Pet. 1:4). The goodness, justice, righteousness or holiness of a soul in a state of grace is, therefore, a reality and not merely a fiction. It is imparted to the soul by God, sanctifying it in its very nature. It is not merely imputed to the soul by God, leaving the soul still contaminated by the filth of sin.

This ennobling and consoling doctrine, the true teaching of the New Testament, Luther altogether rejected. Concentrating on the one text of Romans 1:16–17, and on others which he thought he could fit in with it, he overlooks all other aspects of Christian doctrine taught elsewhere in the New Testament. He declared that the Greek word used by St. Paul for righteousness (dikaiosune) means simply “acquitted,” as one is acquitted or declared not guilty in a court of law. Such a decree, he said, makes no change in the acquitted person. He remains exactly as he was before. He is merely told that the law does not regard him as a criminal. Therefore according to St. Paul, argued Martin Luther, man’s justification means that he is reputed or accounted as righteous in the sight of God, although he remains as sinful in his very nature as ever. The change is in God’s dispositions towards man, not in man himself. Henceforth God looks upon him with favour instead of disfavour, attributing to him the righteousness of Christ which is in no way really possessed within the soul.

Now it is quite true that St. Paul made use of a word which in the Greek language had the technical meaning of legal acquittal. And if the word can have no other meaning than that, one could scarcely dispute the interpretation of justification as implying no more than to be accounted as righteous or not guilty in the sight of God.

But Luther had not the advantages of modern scholarship. He belonged to an age when it was thought that the real meaning of the New Testament could be best ascertained by discovering the exact sense of the Greek language in which its books were originally written. Now even Protestant scholars are beginning to know better, for the Greek words took on a special sense when they were used by the New Testament writers to express Christian doctrines. The pagan Greek language was itself practically “baptized” by the Christians from the very beginning using it to express revealed supernatural and spiritual truths nowhere to be found in classical Greek literature. To understand New Testament Greek, then, it is not enough to have a Greek dictionary in hand; it is necessary to keep in mind the whole religious outlook of Christianity according to the teachings given them by the Apostles.

What, then, did St. Paul have in mind when he spoke of the soul’s “justification?” He was indeed thinking of liberation from heathen darkness for the Gentiles, and from bondage to the Jewish Law for the Jews, as a consequence of embracing Christianity and giving one’s wholehearted allegiance to Christ. But that was not the whole of his doctrine. For him, such a liberation was simply a presupposed condition of one’s “becoming a new creature in Christ” (2 Cor. 5–17). A transforming process from a state of sin to that of sanctifying grace takes place in the soul, a simultaneous deliverance from guilt and an admission to a new and supernatural spiritual life.

A DREADFUL ERROR

In his denial of this, Luther contradicted divine revelation as well as reason. The great emotional stress under which he was labouring when his new doctrine dawned upon him blinded him to practically all else save the one thing by which he was so fascinated. As a matter of fact when, later, others implored him to listen to reason, he replied contemptuously that reason is but a “prostitute” bent on seducing mankind. But it was not only of the human intelligence that he took a gloomy view. He held that man has been so totally depraved by the Fall of Adam, that his heart and will have been so completely contaminated by inherited original sin, as to be rendered quite incapable of any good at all. Is it any wonder that he went on from such views to an entire repudiation of the Catholic doctrine in this matter?

Where modern unbelievers dishonour God by holding that man does not need redeeming at all and that he can manage quite well without God, Luther dishonoured God by holding that the divine image is so utterly defaced in man that God Himself cannot restore that image. The most God can do is to cover up His failure by a fiction, accounting a filthy soul righteous by covering up or hiding its evil condition with the garments of the righteousness of Christ. The Catholic doctrine, on the other hand, neither dishonours God, nor robs man of every vestige of human dignity. It declares man subject to sin and therefore in need of the redemption unbelievers reject; but it also declares that man is not so corrupt as to be incapable of a truly interior and spiritual renewal by grace.

Protestant theologians today are themselves so little in sympathy with Luther’s teaching that whilst professing to explain it they succeed only in explaining it away. Thus the Lutheran Professor of theology, Abdel Ross Wentz, writes: “Faith is a continuing act by which the soul throws itself upon God and receives the smile of God; and that smile of a loving Father adjusts the entire life to a new obedience. Adjustment by faith through divine favour, as Luther experienced and taught it, is not negative like “salvation without works”; it is a very positive and continuing experience of the love of God which brings the assurance of forgiveness, transforms the well-springs of conduct, and gives a new quality to the whole of life.”“

Surely that is to talk, not Lutheran, but Catholic lan guage. For Luther positively insisted upon “justification by faith alone,” and denied any transformation of “the well-springs of conduct,” and the reality of any “new quality” imparted to a nature so depraved as to be incapable of receiving such an infusion of grace! More and more, however, we find Protestant theologians following this line, forsaking Luther’s ideas of justification, and speaking of God as “re-creating the whole man,” and “setting him in an entirely new relationship to Himself and to his fellow men”; doctrines which the Catholic Church has ever taught, but which Protestants generally do not believe, or rather think and say they do not believe.

So much, then, for the doctrine concerning the nature of justification in itself. Now let us turn to the means by which it is claimed that it is brought about-faith.

NATURE OF FAITH

Protestants, following Martin Luther, accuse Catholics of regarding faith merely as a form of knowledge or assent to doctrine instead of seeing it in the biblical and Protestant sense of confiding trust and the commitment of one’s whole life to Christ.

It would be a very great mistake, however, to think that Catholics do not believe that, besides having faith in Christ, one should have also a confident trust in Him and commit one’s whole life to Him. We Catholics insist that all three are necessary. And it is an equally great mistake to imagine that the idea of faith as an assent to doctrine is unbiblical and to think that the only biblical sense of the word is the one Protestants maintain. Such notions are the result of a confusion of ideas which badly need clarification.

In the Greek language the word faith can mean either belief in a statement on the authority of another person, or belief in a person in the sense of trusting him or even of entrusting oneself to him. But we must recall here what was said earlier about new meanings acquired by Greek expressions on their “baptism” into the service of the Christian religion. In biblical usage, both the senses of the Greek which we have just mentioned are at times employed, but other and more comprehensive meanings are elsewhere intended.

Sometimes the word faith is used to designate the whole objective message to be believed by Christians and at all costs to be kept intact. St. Paul uses the word in that sense when he speaks of preaching “the faith which he once impugned” (Gal. 1:23); as does also St. Jude when he urges Christians “to contend earnestly for the faith once delivered to the saints” (Jude, 3.)

Secondly, the word faith is used at times strictly to de note intellectual acceptance of the doctrines belonging to “The Faith,” understanding the word in the preceding sense. Thus St. Paul, after proclaiming the facts and truths and promises of the gospel, said: “So we preach and so you have believed.” I Cor. 15:11. And he declared that his task was to bring “into captivity every understanding unto the obedience of Christ.” 2 Cor. 10:5. In these cases what is obviously involved is intellectual acceptance by faith in the authority of Christ as our divinely-accredited teacher of all that God has revealed. This is that strict sense in which Catholics normally understand the word faith.

In a third class of texts the sense is simply one of confidence or trust, as, for example, where St. Paul speaks of Abraham as strong in faith and giving glory to God, “most fully knowing that whatsoever He has promised, he is able also to perform.” Romans 4:21. Or again, where he says of himself: “I know whom I have believed, and I am certain that he is able to keep that which I have committed unto Him, against that day.” 2 Tim. 1:12.

Finally, speaking not merely of faith as such, but of “saving faith,” St. Paul uses the word in a very broad and comprehensive sense, not excluding any of the above meanings, but including them all and much else besides. He views the faith that justifies as the complete embracing of the Christian religion in practice, with the whole man engaged, heart and soul, intelligence, will and conscience. This is not merely an indefinite trust or mystic self -surrender. It means primarily the intellectual acceptance of truth by faith in the authority of Christ who declares it. That belief in Christ gives rise to complete confidence in Him, love of Him, self-donation to Him, and a resultant obedience to His law and devotedness in all good works for His sake.

NOT MERELY TRUST

It is in this last sense that faith is counted unto us for righteousness, and which St. Paul intended when he wrote: “Being justified therefore by faith, letus have peace with God through Our Lord Jesus Christ.” Romans 5:1. He knew quite well, however, that he was not there using the word faith in the strictly literal sense of the word.

Such “saving faith” included trust or confidence in Christ, which arises f rom the virtue of hope and excludes the extremes of both presumption and despair. It also included a self-giving to Christ proceeding from love or charity. And that St. Paul knew how to distinguish between these different virtues when occasion demanded it is evident from his great declaration: “Now there remain faith, hope and charity, these three; but the greatest of these is charity.” I Con. 13:13.

Catholics are in full agreement with St. Paul. When they declare faith to be, in the strict and primary sense of the word, an intellectual acceptance of doctrines on the authority of Christ, they do not hold that to be of itself “saving faith.” If such faith be not enlivened by trust in Christ, love of Him, obedience and self-donation to Him they are quite prepared to describe it as “dead” faith, as does St. James. Jas. 2:17.

Protestants, on the other hand, do fall into error when they restrict the meaning of faith to trust in Christ and simple acceptance of Him as Lord and Saviour almost to the exclusion of everything else. To the vast majority of Protestants, to have faith in Christ has come to mean one thing, and one thing only, trust in Christ, with an emotional experience of assurance that they are saved, whilst remaining practically indifferent to sound Christian doctrine in all its many vital aspects. As Harnack remarked: “Luther set up evangelical faith in place of dogma.”

What has here been said about faith could be summed up in a simple imaginary conversation between a Protestant and a Catholic as follows:

P. You Catholics understand faith in an altogether wrong sense.

C. That I cannot admit.

P. At any rate, you understand it in a very limited sense.

C. We understand it in the strict and proper sense as accepting revealed truth on the authority of God. We do not say that such faith itself is sufficient for salvation. We do say that it is one necessary element required for salvation. “Without faith it is impossible to please God.” Heb. 11:6.

P. But that was not the kind of faith St. Paul meant when he used the word.

C. It was what he meant when he was speaking of faith as a particular virtue in its own right: as for example, when he spoke of the three distinct values of faith and hope and charity.

P. When he said that we are “justified by faith” he meant by trusting in Christ.

C. He did not. It is an error to concentrate on the one element of trust to the exclusion of all the other factors St. Paul had in mind when speaking of justification, and to think that “faith alone,” in the sense of trust, can result in one’s salvation. Such a “trust,” which is really a form of hope in Christ, can quite easily become a source of presumption or despair if it leads one to neglect necessary conditions or if it is suddenly discovered to be but self-delusion; and that in turn can lead to loss of faith in the true sense of the word, and even to the loss of one’s soul rather than to its salvation.

TRAGIC CONSEQUENCES

Withhis doctrine of “justification by faith alone,” Luther brought in a new kind of Christianity unlike anything that had gone before. As we have seen, faith for a Catholic is an intellectual virtue based on belief in truth revealed by God and safeguarded by the teaching authority of the Catholic Church.

For Luther, it was an affective virtue, a sentiment of confidence in God’s favour. Religious feelings supplanted doctrinal orthodoxy and allowed emotional experiences to run riot at the expense of reason. All that man can do, ran the new teaching, is to trust in the mercy of God and believe with firm confidence that God has received him into His favour. As the Augsburg Confession, Part I, Art. 4, puts it: “Men are freely justified for Christ’s sake through faith, when they believe that they are received into favour and that their sins are forgiven for Christ’s sake.” This doctrine of justification of faith was the keystone of the whole Lutheran system and became the battle-cry of the Protestant reformation.

The most drastic consequences followed upon it. An almost entirely self-centered individualism resulted, evangelical piety making personal conversion, guaranteed by feelings of assurance, the centre of its work. Popular Protestantism urges the individual “to believe in Christ and be saved.” The sense of community and of corporate religion inevitably declined. No intermediaries were needed, priests, sacraments or saints. The individual was prior to the very Church itself which had to be defined in a totally different way, no longer as a visible institution founded by Our Lord, but as a vague invisible aggregate of the “saved,” known only to God.

The Catholic has the gospel set before him by his Church; he accepts the truth guaranteed for him by the guidance of the Holy Spirit operating within the Church: he repents of his sins; and from the Church, the mystical body of Christ, he receives the very grace and life of Christ, a life he must make his own in accordance with St. Paul’s words: “I live, yet not I, but Christ liveth in me.” Ga1.2. In Catholic teaching neither the individual nor the Church can be ignored; but Protestant theology with its doctrine of justification by faith only, quite upset this balance.

Equally disastrous was the effect upon worship. The Bible, interpreted by each reader for himself, became the one supreme rule of faith. It was the doctrine of the “inner light,” and it led to the chaos in religious belief and practice about which the Protestants of today are becoming more and more acutely conscious and distressed. In worship, the pulpit supplanted the altar, and the Eucharist became little more than a social meal. The ministry of the word rendered the ministry of the sacraments almost meaningless. In the new interpretation of Christianity the sacraments could not be a means of grace; at most they could be “ordinances” to symbolize a favour already conferred. So they came to be regarded as more or less superfluous and to be neglected. Indeed, the logical end of the road was reached in the complete abandonment of liturgical worship and sacramentalism by such bodies as the Quakers and the Salvation Army.

The effect on the spiritual life was calculated to have equally sad results. The theory of justification by faith alone could not maintain Christian standards of spirituality.

Luther had failed to find peace of soul personally in ascetic selfdiscipline and efforts at “good works.” He never declared a good life unnecessary. His “pecca fortiter sed crede fortius” (sin boldly but believe still more firmly) was not meant to be an encouragement to yield to sin without scruple. He intended simply that however great a sinner one may be, granted repentance, he can be justified solely by faith. But to be zealous for good works, thinking them to be a means to salvation, was to manifest a lack of faith in God’s power to save.

The popular results of this teaching, however, were tragic. Men declared good works prescribed in order to please God utterly meaningless. It was an easy step from that to conclude that the observance of the moral law itself was not really necessary; still less, any ascetical self- discipline for the sake of an imaginary and impossible “spiritual progress.” If there is but an exterior imputation of the righteousness of Christ there can be no such thing as a truly interior sanctification of the soul; and the one supreme task is to reinforce one’s feelings of assurance in one’s own personal salvation. And such feelings had no necessary connection with obedience to the laws of God or with duties in regard to one’s fellow men.

True, the conduct of the vast majority of Protestants is better than their creed; but it is with the creed itself that we are here concerned, and logically that creed leads to the undermining of Christian standards of conduct, and still more of all efforts to attain to higher degrees of holiness in one’s personal spiritual life.

NECESSITY OF GOOD WORKS

The idea of “full, free and present salvation” for those “justified by faith,” as if Christ had done all and the Christian had to do nothing towards his own salvation, led to the dreadful doctrine that it is belief and not behaviour that matters-a doctrine which is the very basis of hypocrisy. Christ therefore warned His hearers against imitating the Pharisees, of whom He declared: “They say. and do not.” Matt. 28:8. Quite evidently He thought that not only what we believe matters, but also how we behave. In other words, He insisted on the necessity of both faith and good works for salvation, as does the Catholic Church.

Against this it is urged that Scripture forbids men to rely upon their own righteousness, and insists that all must acknowledge that they are sinners needing redemption by Christ

Now it is true that all men without exception, when they come to Christ, must admit that they are sinners and that He alone can redeem them. For those who turn to Christ must acknowledge His authority as God and as our Supreme Judge; and that they are under condemnation for the sins they have committed and for which they cannot forgive themselves. Nothing of their own previous “righteousness,” if they had any, is of any avail here.

Yet after they have repented of their sins and have obtained forgiveness, righteousness is expected of them. For God is not indifferent as to how we live. We must show our antagonism towards evil by trying to live a holy life; and the will to do this is necessary for salvation. We cannot rely upon our salvation unless we fulfil that condition.

If that be so, however, what are we to make of St. Paul’s words: “For by grace you are saved through faith, and that not of yourselves, for it is the gift of God; not of works, that no man may boast?” (Eph. 2:8–9.) St. Paul is there referring to the fact that before one’s conversion and attaining to the grace of Christ no “good works” can possibly deserve that grace; and also to thefact that, even after one’s conversion, it is the grace of Christ which gives value to good works done under its inspiration and with its assistance. But St. Paul does not deny the value of good works performed under the influence of grace after one’s conversion as a means to eternal salvation.

Christ Himself certainly went out of His way to stress the necessity of good works for our salvation. He warned us: “Not everyone that saith to Me, Lord, Lord, shall enter into the kingdom of heaven; but he that doth the will of My Father who is in heaven.” Matt. 7:21. Praising good works, He said: “Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is very great in heaven.” Matt. 5:12. He declared that such good works, or the absence of them, will be a deciding factor in the Last Judgment. Then He will say: “Come, ye blessed. . . . for I was hungry and you fed Me,” or “Depart, ye cursed, for I was hungry and you gave Me not to eat.” Matt. 25:34, 41. How can it be said that salvation is “wholly without works,” if, for lack of good works, it can be forfeited?

St Paul wrote: “I have fought the good fight . . . and there is laid up for me a crown of justice.” 2 Tim. 4:8. That implies that good works done by those in a state of grace provide one with a just claim in Christ to eternal salvation. In the same sense St. Peter says: “Wherefore, labour the more, that by good works you make sure your calling and election.” 2 Pet. 1:10.

If we believe in the Bible, we must believe in all of it, not concentrating on a few isolated texts and forgetting all else.

THE GOOD THIEF

Here allusion can well be made to the case so often cited, that of the good thief to whom Christ said on Calvary: “This day thou shalt be with me in paradise.” Lk. 23:43. Since that thief had done no good works, how do you explain his salvation, if faith alone is not sufficient?

To say that the good thief did no good works, however, is to take far too narrow a view of what good works mean. We must not think only of being good to the poor, or of other forms of humanitarianism. After all, the good thief publicly proclaimed the innocence of Christ; and equally, with deep humility, acknowledged his own guilt. These were already “good works.”

In any case, that the good thief did not have time to do further good works after his conversion could not affect the principle that good works are necessary, good works which the good thief would certainly have the will to do, had he had the opportunity. St. Paul wrote to the Galatians: “In doing good let us not fail. For in due time we shall reap, not failing. Therefore whilst we have time let us work good to all men, but especially to those who are of the household of the faith.” Gal. 6:9–10. It rests with God how much time each of us will have. But whilst we have it God expects us to do good; and our salvation depends upon our doing it. If we do it, St. Paul tells us that we shall reap our reward. And Our Lord Himself tells us, as we have seen, that our not doing it can result in the loss of our souls.

But even were we to grant that an exception was made in the case of the good thief, the exception proves the rule; and we cannot argue from the special dispensation in his case to what is normally required.

“THE LAW CANNOT SAVE!”

But did not St. Paul expressly tell the Galatians that we are “justified by the faith of Christ, and not by the works of the law; because by the works of the law no flesh shall be justified?” Gal. 2:16. He did. But with what was he concerned?

St. Paul was refuting the Judaizing Christians, those early converts to the Church who claimed that, in addition to their acceptance of the teachings of Christ and the fulfillment of His law, those baptized were obliged still to observe the prescriptions of the Jewish or Mosaic Law. Denouncing that, St. Paul insisted that Christ had abolished the Mosaic Law, fulfilling yet transcending it, and made possible by His death on the Cross and the power of grace a righteousness which observance of the Mosaic Law of itself could give man no power to attain. But he did not by that intend that Christians, emancipated from observance of Jewish obligations, are to be saved merely by faith in Christ without observing the law of Christ Himself in our daily conduct.

St. Paul teaches, of course, that even for Christians good works, whilst necessary, cannot of themselves be the cause of salvation. They need a value derived from Christ. Divine grace is indeed a communication of the very righteousness of Christ to our souls, giving a new value to all the good works we strive to do. It is this grace which enables us to fulfil the law, not according to the letter, but in the spirit. Thus St. Paul writes that “the justifications of the law may be fulfilled in us who walk, not according to the flesh, but according to the spirit.” Romans 8:4.

St. James, well aware of the mind of St. Paul, wrote most strongly on this subject. “Be ye doers of the word, and not hearers only, deceiving your own selves.” Jas. 1:22. And again: “What shall it profit if a man say he hath faith, but hath not works? Shall faith be able to save him?. . . . Thou believest that there is one God. Thou dost well. But the devils also believe and tremble. But wilt thou know, O vain man, that faith without works is dead. . . . By works a man is justified, and not by faith only. Even as the body without the spirit is dead, so also faith without worksis dead.” Jas. 2:14, 19–20, 26.

Rightly, then, the Catholic Church insists, and has always insisted, that both faith and good works are required for righteousness in the Christian sense of the word, and for salvation. Right beliefs and right conduct are necessary.

ASSURANCE OF SALVATION

Let us now turn to the really dreadful doctrine that a felt assurance of salvation is the necessary sign that one has been justified by faith alone.” This has truly been the bane of all the heirs of the Protestant reformation.

It has resulted in a self-centered and subjective individualism, divorced from all ideas of the Church incorporating us as members of the mystical body of Christ. People have tended to regard the whole of religion as consisting in their own interior and personal state of religious feeling.

It has led to the most extravagant and even morbid attempts to induce an artificial sense of security by periodical outbreaks of highly-charged emotional revivalism. And in those converted at such meetings there has resulted only too often an almost sickening selfcomplacency in the thought of being among the “saved” which is as far removed as possible from the humility declared by the gospel to be a first condition of our rehabilitation in the sight of God.

Nor is there any more cruel tyranny than to demand such a “religious experience” as a passport to salvation. What are those multitudes of people to do who are psychologically incapable of such an upsurge of emotion, and who have never honestly felt the interior revolution and the personal assurance required? If they take the doctrine seriously, they must either indulge in a hypocritical pretence that they have undergone such an experience, or yield to utter despair.

It is one thing to hope for salvation, live in the light of that hope, and put one’s confidence in God’s mercy. That is lawful. But it is quite another thing to keep telling oneself, and everybody else, that one is already saved, and that all who have not the same self-assurance are in a state of damnation. That is a form of presumption, not only not justified by Scripture, but absolutely opposed to it

Christ warns us to watch and pray lest we enter into temptation (Matt. 26:41); He makes us pray to be preserved from temptation (Lk. 11:4); and surely such warnings are meaningless to the man who thinks himself already and permanently saved. Christ also said: “Blessed are those servants whom the Lord when He cometh, shall find watching.” Lk. 12:37. He there implies that it is quite possible for one who believes in Him to fall a victim to temptation, and to be found unprepared to meet judgment when death comes.

The words are often quoted: “He who heareth my word and believeth him that sent me, hath life everlasting; as cometh not to judgment, but is passed from death to life Jn. 5:24. But we must ask just what those words signify. They simply mean that one who accepts Christ’s word in the sense of His total gospel and puts its precepts in practice passes a “death- state” of sin into a “life-state” of grace. If he perseveres in that state of grace, and therefore in the love and friendship of God until death, then he will have no need to fear an adverse judgment, but will inherit life everlasting. But the words quoted certainly give no guarantee that one who has attained at any stage in this life to the grace of God can never forfeit that grace by later sin. As people of bad will can develop a good will, so people of good will can lapse into bad dispositions; and all without exception need to fear their own weakness and even malice.

Never, at any stage in this life, are we allowed to make it a certainty that we shall be saved. We are warned that if we think ourselves to stand, we must beware lest we fall (I Con. 10:12); and that we must work out our salvation in fear and trembling (Phil. 2:12). Of himself St. Paul wrote: “I chastise my body and bring it into subjection, lest having preached to othersI myself should become a castaway.” 1 Con. 9:27.

There is no room, then, in St. Paul’s teaching for self-assurance and presumption. Such dispositions are not Christian. They are very dangerous, for they make salvation dependent on imagination and feelings-most untrustworthy guides. And they blind people to the necessity of belonging to the Church Christ established, of receiving the sacraments He instituted, and of making every effort to avoid sin and practise Christian virtue.

Never were credulous people more disastrously deceived than they were by Martin Luther’s doctrine that justification is by faith alone, guaranteed by personal assurance in each one’s own heart. Such a doctrine violates both Scripture and reason, and brings Christianity into disrepute with all thinking men.

CURRENT ILLUSIONS

Lest it be thought that the ideas attributed to Protestants in this booklet are no longer held by them, and that an injustice has been done to their outlook, it might be well to quote no less an authority that the Lutheran Bishop Stahlin who, in a recent lecture in Germany-he is Bishop of Oldenburg-declared that multitudes of modem Protestants have come to feel that they are “responsible only to their own consciences”; that for them there “is no binding dogma and no compulsory creed”; that they push “certain aspects of the Bible message out of sight, or at least to the very edge of their field of vision”; and that they think any talk of the authority of the Church, of necessary ecclesiastical order, or of liturgical worship is a betrayal of Protestantism and a capitulation to Catholicism.

“If any man believes,” he said, “that he can sacrifice the fullness of the Christian revelation to some vague formless religious feeling or vague belief in Providence, he may hold himself to be a good Protestant, but. . . . he is simply not a Christian.”

A further illustration of the modern Protestant attitude comes from a prominent Methodist minister, the Rev. Alan A further illustration of the modern Protestant attitude comes from a prominent Methodist minister, the Rev. Alan 1955 “Methodist Mission to the Nation” in Australia, who has been regarded as so successful that he has been invited to give similar missions in America by the Methodist Churches there.

Declaring that troubled people often ask how one becomes a Christian, he devoted one of his main discourses to that problem, undertaking to explain the process most clearly, so that there could be no possible room for doubt or obscurity.

“Being a Christian,” be said, “is far more than following the Golden Rule, than mere church-going, or than mentally accepting a series of doctrines.”

By saying that more is required than the practices mentioned, room is left for the suggestion that they also ought to be fulfilled. And Mr. Walker undoubtedly meant that. But many of his Protestant listeners could have concluded that he was speaking slightingly of such “good works,” and that he was excluding them as not necessary in order to be a Christian.

The truth is that, if one who is a Christian wants to behave as a Christian, he must try to follow the Golden Rule of charity towards all his fellow men, he must faithfully attend church to fulfil public duties of divine worship on the days prescribed, and he must mentally accept the doctrines of the Christian religion by faith in all that Christ has revealed to b e true.

There is a difference between being a Christian and behaving as a Christian. It is most important to note that difference. For “being” comes before “acting.” We cannot “act” as human beings unless we first “exist” as human beings. So one has to “be” a Christian before he can “act” as a Christian; although, of course, one might be a Christian yet not act as a Christian should; in which case he would be a bad Christian. The full significance of this we shall see later.

“A Christian,” Mr. Walker continued, “is one who, by a deliberate act of faith and trust, enters into an inner fellowship with the living Person of Jesus.”

That is an echo of the original Protestant doctrine of justification by faith only, although there is a departure from it by the reference to the “inner fellowship” with the living Person of Jesus. Luther’s idea of justification as a “legal acquittal” and anexternal imputation to the soul of the merits of Christ meant a change in God’s dispositions towards us, so that instead of looking upon us with disfavour He looks upon us with favour. Of itself this would imply no inner relationship with the Person of Jesus- which involves the Catholic doctrine of interior grace!

But far more noteworthy is the fact that, throughout the whole of his discourse, Mr. Walker made no mention whatever of the Sacrament of Baptism! Not faith and trust of themselves, but baptism received in a spirit of faith and trust makes a Christian and creates an inner fellowship with the living Person of Jesus. And it is baptism which is the most essential step of all towards becoming a Christian.

So Sacred Scripture insists that we must believe and be baptized (Mk. 16:16), and also, as St. Peter declared in his first sermon: “Repent and be baptized every one of you.” Acts 2:38. The significance of baptism was explained by St. Paul when he wrote: “As many of you as have been baptized in Christ have put on Christ.” Gal. 3:27. The Methodist Church, of course, does make provision for baptism, but apparently little meaning is attached by them to the rite. At any rate, Mr. Walker, in his discourse on how to become a Christian, spoke as if he had not so much as heard that there is any Sacrament of Baptism!

“This (entering into fellowship with Jesus by faith and trust),” Mr. Walker went on, “means recognizing Jesus Christ as the Lord of life, believing in prayer, and accepting the Christian ethic as the truth, doing one’s best to live up to it.”

Here again we have confusion between becoming Christian and becoming a good Christian. To be a good Christian, one must recognize Jesus Christ as the Lord of life in practice, must be faithful to prayer, and try to live up to the Christian ethic, or moral standards of conduct And one becomes a more or less good Christian as he succeeds more or less in doing so. But he becomes Christian by baptism. If one fails to live up to requirements in conduct, that does not mean that one is not Christian. It means merely that he is not making all the effort he should in order to live as he ought.

“Because of this,” Mr. Walker added, “a Christian needs the Church. I believe no one can be a Christian who does not join the Church, entering into its fellowship, learning its teachings of the Gospel, sharing in its task of winning the world for Christ.”

In spite of himself, the good Methodist missioner found himself here compelled to talk Catholic language-however haltingly-rather than Protestant language. It is a far cry from Chillingworth’s famous dictum that “the Bible, and the Bible only, is the religion of Protestants” to Mr. Walker’s declaration that the Christian must hear the “Church” in order to “learn its teachings of the Gospel.” But once the Church is mentioned, the great weakness of Protestantism becomes evident. Its ideas on that subject are exceedingly vague.

The truth is that man needs the Church, not only for the help it can give him towards the living of a Christian life in practice, but that he may be a Christian at all. For Christ founded His Church as a living organism, in and through which He Himself would live and act. By baptism a man becomes simultaneously a member of Christ and a member of His Church. That is why, for the living of a Christian life, a Christian needs the Church; even as the living activity of any member of the human body needs to have at its disposal the life of the whole body. Such is the teaching of the New Testament, and of the Catholic Church.

One thing above all, however, must have still left troubled the souls of thinking Protestants who heard Mr. Walker. For if no one can be a Christian without joining “the Church,” then the question of which Church one must join is as vital a problem as that of becoming a Christian at all. That problem Mr. Walker neither faced nor solved. The only valid answer is-”The Catholic Church.” Unable to say that, he preferred to say nothing, failing here, as in so much else, to keep his promise to leave troubled people with no room for doubt or obscurity. Protestantism, how ever modern its dress, and of whatever denominational type it may be, is simply unable to give those final answers Christianity was intended to provide.

CONCLUSION

During the four centuries that have elapsed since Martin Luther gave to the world his new theory of “justification by faith alone,” millions of good Protestants have described themselves as Christians saved by the grace of God. They have relied upon their own personal reading of the Bible, have regarded religion as a matter between their own individual souls and God, and have seen no need to become members of the Catholic Church.

But whilst believing in the Bible, they have not understood its teachings. For even apart from the fact that only for the Catholic Church they would not have the Bible at all, that very Bible is opposed to their isolation from her. If there is one thing clearly taught in the New Testament it is the doctrine of the Church as a divine society established by Christ, in which all believers should be united, professing the same faith, offering the same worship, receiving the same sacraments, and acknowledging the same religious authority.

We cannot ignore Our Lord’s words: “I will build my Church” (Matt. 16:18). Nor can we conceive that He would do so, if He did not intend that we should be members of it. Certainly His further words: “If a man will not hear the Church, let him be to thee as the heathen.” Matt. 18:17, should make every sensible person ask, “Which Church?” and not rest until he has found the right one.

St. Paul, insisting on the necessity of our being united in the true Church instead of being led astray by independent individuals, wrote: “Now I beseech you, brethren, by the name of Our Lord Jesus Christ, that you all speak the same thing, and that there be no schisms (divisions) among you; but that you be perfect in the same mind and in the same judgment.” I Cor. 1:10. And he came back to that same thought with the plea “that there might be no schism in the body; but the members might be mutually careful one for another . . . You are the body of Christ, and members of member.” 1 Cor. 12: 25–27.

Why are Protestants divided from all Catholics throughout the world, not having the same mind and judgment, not speaking the same thing as the millions of all nations so remarkably united religiously within the unity of the Catholic Church? It is because they have inherited wrong principles from the very beginning of the reformation in the 16th century, principles which were not the means appointed by Christ for the attaining of the truth. He established His Church, guaranteeing its infallibility and perpetuity, and sent it to teach all nations. That Church is the Catholic Church; and the only road to the unity demanded by the New Testament is to belong to and be guided by that Church.

It is only in the Catholic Church that one will be able to learn without error the teachings of the Gospel, and receive all the means of grace Christ intended us to have.

Nihil Obstat: Percy Jones

Censor Diocesan

Imprimatur:

@ D. Mannix

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis February 1959

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Sorrow For Sin

BY HIS GRACE THE MOST REVEREND JOHN CHARLES MCQUAID, D.D

ARCHBISHOP OF DUBLIN, PRIMATE OF IRELAND

INDEX

At the approach of Lent, the Church vividly reminds us of our mortal condition. On Ash Wednesday she marks our brows in the sign of the Cross with ashes: “Dust thou art, and unto dust thou shalt return.” The words she borrows are those of God Himself in the Garden of Eden, when, in punishment of sin, He condemned our first parents to a life of toil and sorrow, until by death they “should return to the earth out of which they had been taken.” It might seem a needless thing to remind us that we shall die. With a wisdom given by God the Holy Ghost, the Church unfailingly brings to mind the sentence of death, under which every man lives. At the same time, since by “sin death entered into the world,” the Church summons us to repent of all our sins, while yet the mercy of God is disposed to grant us the grace of sorrow and amendment. “Let us amend for the better in the things in which through ignorance we have sinned, lest being suddenly overtaken by the day of death, we seek a space for repentance and find it not. Hearken, O Lord, and have mercy, for we have sinned against Thee.” In this prayer of Ash Wednesday is found the story of mankind and the unending call of God to return to Him in penance. “Be converted to Me with all your heart. Turn to the Lord, your God, for He is gracious and merciful.”

IN THE OLD TESTAMENT

The Old Testament, which the Church uses so frequently in the Mass during Lent, might seem to be but the recital of the unfaithfulness of God’s chosen people. It is much more the touching narrative of the patience wherewith God chastised His people unto sorrow, in a long preparation for the Divine Redeemer Who should save them from their sins. Thus Abraham is seen to intercede with God for the guilty cities,’ and Moses, by his penance, succeeds in saving all his people. The Prophets in succession urge repentance in order to avert God’s anger. By the sufferings which are a penalty for sin, God breaks the pride of sinners. “I have broken their heart that was faithless and revolted from Me. They shallknow that I am the Lord.” Solomon, at the dedication of the Temple, prays that “if the people have sinned and been afflicted and, by reason of their afflictions, do penance in their hearts and be converted from their sins, then May God hear them and, as Heshall see their hearts, forgive them their sins.” Time after time in the Sacred Writings the readiness of God to pardon the truly penitent is emphasised. “I will forgive their iniquities and I will remember their sin no more. Pitying, I will pity, saith the Lord. If the wicked do penance for all his sins which he hath committed, and keep all my commandments, I will not remember all his iniquities that he hath done. Is it my will (asks the Creator) that a sinner should die and not that he should be converted from his ways and live?” The Book of Psalms is a sinner’s admission of his manifold guilt, the sorrow of a contrite and humiliated heart, a cry for mercy to the heart of God, in whom alone is the hope of peace. The Old Testament indeed speaks much of the heavy chastisement of sin, but it is in the Old Testament that we read a prayer such as that of Esther or Daniel or Tobias, filled with the grief of genuine penance, and confident in the tenderness of a forgiving Father. “O how good and sweet is Thy spirit, O Lord, in all things, for by little and little, Thou chastiseth them that err: and admonisheth them and speaketh to them concerning the things wherein they offend: that, leaving their wickedness they may believe in Thee.”

IN THE GOSPELS

When, in the course of .time, God sent His last messenger to prepare men for the coming of the Divine Redeemer, St. John the Baptist had no other message than that of all the Prophets. “Do penance,” said John, “for the Kingdom of Heaven is at hand.” Nor was his language less vivid than that of Jeremias or Isaias. “Ye brood of vipers, bring forth fruit worthy of penance.” It was the change of heart that was sought, not the appearance of goodness. “And the people,” we read, “confessing their sins, were baptised unto penance. This cleansing of the heart made men ready for the preaching of Him Who was to come, Whose shoes, said John, he was not worthy to loose. Jesus Christ would thoroughly cleanse the threshing-floor. His wheat He would gather into the barn; the chaff He would burn with unquenchable fire. For, St. John confessed: “This is the Son of God, the Lamb of God Who taketh away the sin of the world.”

It is indeed strange that the Son of God, at the opening of His public life, should have used the very words of St.

John the Baptist concerning repentance: He began to preach and to say: Do penance, for the Kingdom of Heaven is at hand.” Explaining His mission in the synagogue at Nazareth, He applied to Himself the striking text of Isaias “This day,” He said, “is fulfilled this scripture in your ears: the spirit of the Lord is upon Me. Wherefore He hath anointed Me to preach the Gospel to the poor. He hath sent Me to heal the contrite of heart, to set at liberty them that are bruised.” When first Our Divine Lord sent out the Twelve, the mission He gave them was no different from His own: “going forth they preached that men should do penance.” On one occasion, solemnly He uttered the dread warning to His disciples: “I say to you: except you do penance you shall all likewise perish.” And lest the words might not be correctly grasped, at once, in the same solemn form, He repeated the judgment. At the very end of His life, when speaking to His Apostles, a few moments before ascending into Heaven, “He opened their understanding that they might understand the Scriptures.” At this final farewell Our Divine Lord recalled the message of repentance that explained His life and death: “And He said to them: Thus it is written and thus it behoved Christ to suffer and to rise again from the dead, the third day; and that penance and remission of sins should be preached in His name, unto all nations.”

AFTER THE ASCENSION

How faithfully the Apostles fulfilled the mandate to preach repentance for sin, we can see throughout the Acts of the Apostles. Immediately after the descent of the Holy Ghost, St. Peter in his first sermon rebuked his hearers for their share in the crucifixion of the Son of God. Struck with sorrow, they asked: “What shall we do?” “Do penance,” answered the Apostle: “be baptised every one of you in the name of Jesus Christ, for the remission of your sins.” In his second sermon St. Peter cried out to the people, who had witnessed the cure of the man born lame: “Be penitent and be converted, that your sins may be blotted out.” In the presence of the High Priest, the Chief of the Apostles bore this witness to His Divine Master: “Him hath God exalted to be Prince and Saviour, to give repentance and remission of sins.” St. Paul teaches that “the benignity of God leadeth us to penance.” Baptism for the Apostle is a death to sin, a resurrection to newness of spirit and holiness of life. “A faithful saying,” he writes, “and worthy of all acceptation: that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners.” With St. John, the Apostle of the love of God, penance is equally a stern demand of God. “They shall be in very great tribulation, except they do penance from their deeds.” The wicked are thus described in the Apocalypse: “They blasphemed God because of their pains and wounds: and did not penance for their works.” Of the elect it is written: “Such as I love, I rebuke and chastise. Be zealous therefore and do penance.” Thus in the early Church, to “teach and preach Christ Jesus” is to announce the message of repentance unto the remission of sins.

THE MIND OF THE CHURCH

Nor has the mind of the Church in any sense changed during two thousand years. The priest, in his preparation for Mass, begins: “Remember not, O Lord, our sins nor the sins of our forebears; neither do Thou take vengeance for our sins.” The Mass itself commences with an avowal of our guilt as sinners; its prayers are filled with the entreaties of the Church for purification. “Visit, we beseech Thee, O God, and purify our consciences, that Jesus Christ, Our Lord, Thy Son, on coming to us, may find in us a dwellingplace made ready for Himself.” “O God, to Whom all hearts lie open and every will doth speak and from Whom no secret is concealed, purify, by the outpouring of the Holy Ghost, the thoughts of our heart.” Immediately before the Consecration, the Church prays that God in His mercy would snatch us from eternal damnation. At a moment when it might be thought that the soul was pure, the Church, at Holy Communion, makes the priest repeat the humble confession of the Centurion: “Lord, I am not worthy that Thou shouldst enter under my roof: yet, say only the word, and my soul shall be healed.”‘ Before the Faithful are communicated, the priest holds up the Sacred Host for adoration and the prayer he recites is not an act of fervent charity but the words of St. John the Baptist that remind us of our sins and our utter dependence on the Redeemer: “Behold Him, the Lamb of God: behold Him, Who taketh away the sins of the world.”

OUR SINFULNESS

We are tempted to wonder at this emphasis on our sinful condition and on the need for sorrow for our sins. It is that we do not understand how often and how insistently Our Divine Master spoke of our sinfulness before God. We are apt to put aside His words as having been addressed to a people, distant in time and country, and living in a pagan world. We forget that the teaching of Jesus Christ is meant for each and every man, at whatsoever time he may be born on earth. We fail to believe that He Who spoke “knew all men, and knew what was in man.”

Thus, there is not an aspect of our fallen condition that has escaped the notice of our Divine Saviour. His sermons and parables and encounters with the people of His time reveal the full extent of human negligence and malice. God alone is good, Our Divine Master teaches; men are wicked, debtors to God, who have not wherewith to pay. The grosser sins of injustice and sensuality are referred to in the Parables of the Unjust Steward and the Unjust Judge and the Prodigal Son. But the condemnation of Our Divine Lord bears for the most part upon the neglect of God in human life. Men have set their hearts on the visible things of the earth. “ Where their treasure is, there will be their heart; and, in practice, they have forgotten God. Thus are they choked with the anxieties and riches and pleasures of this life.” “The light that is in them becomes darkness.” God, Who alone must be adored and served, is despised, for “no man can serve two masters.” “God knoweth your hearts, warns Our Divine Master; that which is high to men is an abomination to God.” Our sin, too, He shows in the Parable of the Prodigal Son, takes on the character of a heartless ingratitude. “God came unto His own,” we read, “and His own received Him not.” But sin becomes in its effects still more terrible, when it generates the wilful blindness that hates the light of Jesus Christ. “And men loved the darkness, for their works were evil.” Such a darkness of soul makes of man a bond-slave, controlled and even possessed by Satan. The sinner can reach the wickedness of hating God. When the enemies of Jesus Christ, urged on by Satan, crucified the Son of God, in envy and in hatred, for one moment it might have seemed that the sin of man had triumphed. But in that very moment, God, in His unspeakable love, used the hatred of man to accomplish the work of our redemption. The shedding of the Precious Blood was the price of the remission of all our sins.

THE MERCY OF OUR DIVINE REDEEMER

The mercy of the Sacred Heart towards sinners was frequently made evident during Our Divine Lord’s life. He wept over Jerusalem that had slain the Prophets, who troubled its peace by their call to penance. In the end, the same Jerusalem would crucify Himself: “if thou hadst known, and that in this thy day, the things that are to thy peace: but now they are hidden from thy eyes.” He pardoned the Magdalene. He had pity on the multitude, for that they lay like sheep without a shepherd. He had cried out: “if any man thirst, let him come to Me, the fount of living water, and drink.” He had invited the weary souls of sinful men: “Come to Me all you who labour and are burdened, and I will refresh you. My yoke is sweet and my burden light.” Looking down from Calvary, He had pleaded for forgiveness even for those whose wilful blindness had nailed Him to the Cross. Yet, in a sense, at no moment did the unrequited mercy of His all-loving Heart pour gentler balm on humankind than when He said to His Apostles, just before He departed from the earth “Receive ye the Holy Ghost, whose sins ye shall forgive, they are forgiven them: whose sins ye shall retain, they are retained.” At that moment we were given His Sacrament of sorrow.

TRUE SORROW FOR SIN

All supernatural sorrow for sin must find its origin in Faith. It is not a mere regret that we have failed, much less a grief that we have lost the chance of sinning again. It is a lowly avowal of sin, made with the help of grace. True sorrow turns from sin; it detests it as an offence against Almighty God. Thinking on the infinite majesty of God, Whom sin despises, our sorrow rejects the sin as an evil greater than any other evil. And, as in every mortal sin there is the same offence to God, sorrow must reject all mortal sins. Reflecting on the fulness of the evil, as our holy Faith reveals it, our sorrow understands that sin deprives us at once of sanctifying grace, and, excluding us from the company and friendship of God, merits the eternal punishment of Hell? But sorrow can, reach an even greater height, with the aid of grace. If we consider that sin revolts against God, our Creator and our Father, Who is Himself all-good; if we reflect that sin has caused the death of God made man, and that the proof to us of God’s unspeakable, nay infinite, goodness is His death to save us from all sin, then sorrow is become an act of perfect love which reconciles us to God. Only love returned can compensate for love refused. And thus in perfect contrition there is no longer the mere anxiety of justice to repair a sin against the majesty of God, but rather the charity that clings to God, with all one’s heart, as infinitely good, and strives to repair the insult to God Who is our Father, Our Redeemer and our Friend.

THE SORROW NEEDED FOR THE SACRAMENT

Such a sorrow is not based on emotions: it rests on Faith. “They shall know that I am the Lord their God.” True sorrow is an understanding of sin as an offence against God. It springs from the will which, assisted by grace, turns away from sin in order to submit to God completely. “I will give you a new heart, and I will cause you to walk in My commandments.” How perfect our sorrow is, only the eye of God can fathom. We, who know our own fickle heart and feeble love of God, might well doubt the value of our sorrow to wipe away all sins in perfect charity. But God, in His unending mercy, does not leave us to wonder whether our sins have been forgiven. He has given us the Sacrament of Penance, and in that Sacrament He does not exact the perfect sorrow of contrition. He, Who “knows what is in man,” is pleased to accept the sorrow that considers sin chiefly as an offence against God, which deprives us of grace and deserves the eternal loss of God. Without genuine sorrow inspired by Faith, there cannot in fact be any Sacrament of Penance. But we may well ask if God could have made more easy the conditions of sorrow for that Sacrament. Few things can prove to us more cogently the endless love of the Sacred Heart of Jesus than the ease with which we can receive, and know with certainty that we have received, forgiveness of all our sins in the Sacrament of sorrow.

IN PREPARATION FOR ABSOLUTION

Because the fruit of the Precious Blood is easy to receive in this Sacrament, we should be all the more careful to prepare our hearts for absolution. By our sins, be they grave or venial, we have offended God. Suppose that Jesus Christ were to examine my conscience and recount my sins, as He numbered the insults that He had received in the house of the Pharisee. One day He will detail all my sins in the judgement, immediately after death. Today as we prepare for absolution, let us each kneel down before Him and pray that He may look on us as He looked on the Magdalene, on the woman taken in sin and on St. Peter. May He never look on us as He looked on Judas, who turned forever from His love! If our sins be those that spring from discouragement and human respect, let us kneel before Our Divine Redeemer as He prays in agony in the Garden. If our faults be those that offend against chastity in ourselves or in others, let us kneel before His blood-stained Body in the scourging at the Pillar. If our offences are sins of pride or faults against charity, let us kneel before Our Saviour, mocked and spat upon and crowned with thorns. If we must bewail the relapse into sin, let us kneel before the dying Saviour, as He struggles to Calvary and falls beneath the burden of our wickedness. And at Calvary, one and all can kneel before the Crucified; there is not one of us who has not helped to crucify Him, because there is no sin of man that has not had its share in His Passion and redeeming death.

ABSOLUTION

Thus to examine our consciences before Our loving Saviour, in the stages of His Passion, is already to prepare our hearts for the act of genuine sorrow, which turns from sin as evil and clings to God, resolved with His grace never to sin again. When we kneel, as befits a sinner, before the priest who receives our confession and adjudges our guilt, we kneel before Jesus Christ Himself.As in the Consecration at Mass the priest, who takes Christ’s place, says “This is My body,” so in the Sacrament of Penance, the priest declares: “I absolve thee from thy sins.” It is Jesus Christ Himself Who absolves us in this Sacrament as truly as when He stretched forth His hand and raised from death the widow’s son of Naim. While we make our humble admission of sin, while we reject with detestation all sin which helped to crucify Him, while we determine with His grace never to sin again, it is Our Divine Lord Himself Who declares as long ago in the days of His life in Palestine: “thy sins are forgiven thee. Go in peace and sin no more.”

TO SIN NO MORE

To sin no more is the privilege of the Blessed, who are with God. We do not doubt God’s mercy, nor t he full forgiveness of the Sacrament of Penance, but we know that we have sinned and we greatly fear that we shall sin again. Yet, here and now, in the act of sorrow that we make, we recognise the evil of our, sin: we wish that we had never offended God: we long never to sin again; we bring our will to bear on the flight from such occasions as we know could induce us to repeat our sin. We know that it is precisely on the sins that we have confessed with sorrow that the special grace of the Sacrament directs its light and strength. We set our trust no longer in the feeble barrier of our own poor resolutions, but in the Precious Blood of Jesus Christ. To Him in loving humility, we entrust our unstable wills. With childlike love, we confide in the protecting intercession of Our Lady, because He gave her to us on Calvary to be our Mother and our Refuge. To remedy the weakness of our will, we accept, together with the penance imposed by the priest, all the suffering of our life, in particular, the pain we shall undergo in avoiding further sin.” Our temptations do not soil us, but they harass and. discourage us. They can be made a reparation for the past and a confiding act of love, if, in union with Our Divine Lord in the Agony at Gethsemane, we turn at once to God and protest that by His grace we choose His Will, whatever suffering it may cost us in body or in soul: “not my will, Lord Jesus, but Thine alone, now and at every moment and for always.”

ABIDING SORROW

True sorrow restrains from further sin. “Wash me yet more from my iniquity,” prayed the Psalmist, and the Church continues to repeat his prayer. When we have knelt before our loving Lord in all the scenes of His bitter Passion, we must share His horror of sin as an offence against the all-holy God. When we have knelt beside Our Lady of Sorrows at the foot of the Crucifix, something of her grief at sin passes into our heart and soul. By a refinement of grace, our conscience gradually becomes more delicately sensitive. The knowledge of our failures purifies our pride and urges us to the reparation of a greater love. “All the day, in a sense, sorrow is in our heart,” but the grief is become a sweetness, for it rests upon the confidence of sin forgiven in His sacrament of sorrow.

It is a sad, strange fact that, when we shall have come into the vision of God in Heaven, and can no longer sin, we shall see at once the Five most Precious Wounds of Jesus Christ. In eternity and for eternity, we shall remember that we have sinned. He has kept in His hands and feet the trace of the nails, and in His side the wound of the lance, that we may for ever praise the mercy of the Sacred Heart, Which shed its blood to be the remission of our sins.

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Standards of Modesty And Prayers For Purity

INDEX

OPEN LETTER TO WOMAN

I am a man, I am your father, your brother, your husband, your lover . . . your friend. I WANT you to be what you ought to be: a personification of gentleness, understanding, receptivity, loyalty and love.

But while you ask me to regard you as more than a mere sexual object, do not prohibit my doing so by distorting your womanhood. Do not provoke me carelessly with your sexuality if you will resent my responding. Do not be random in giving the treasure of physical intimacies and then expect me to value you more than you value yourself. Do not, especially when we are with others, abandon that modesty that in-dwells your nature, for I depend on you to be my touch-stone of moderation. Do not use crude speech, and mock my efforts to make my words to you respectful. Do not applaud the public vulgarities of those who, in the name of artistic expression, disclose their contempt of women and depict you as a slattern. Do not be fooled by the exploiters who would convince you that femininity is weakness and virtue is retardation. You are strongest when you are most feminine; you progress when you embrace virtue. Remember that I will accept you at your own evaluation of yourself, and if you do not respect the sublime beauty of your womanhood, you cannot ask me to.

I will spend much of my life in concern for your welfare; I will want to provide for you, to protect you, to accept your love and give you mine, for it is only in uniting with you and doing these things that my life becomes truly meaningful.

So, uphold my image of woman, that I may more easily be the man you want me to be.

(John S. Niendorff)

OPEN LETTER TO MAN

I am a woman, I am your wife, sweetheart, mother, daughter, sister, friend. I need your help; I was created to give to the world gentleness, understanding, serenity, beauty, and love; I’m finding it increasingly difficult to fulfil my purpose; many people in advertising, motion pictures, television, and radio have ignored my inner qualities, and have repeatedly used me only as a symbol of sex. This humiliates me, destroys my dignity, prevents me from being what you want me to be . . . an example of beauty, inspiration, and love . . . for my children, my husband, and of my God and country. I need your help to restore me to my true position, to enable me to fulfill the purpose for which I was created; I know you will find a way.

(Composed by Sy and Jill Miller.)

THE MARYLIKE STANDARDS FOR MODESTY IN DRESS

“A dress cannot be called decent which is cut deeper than two fingers breadth under the pit of the throat; which does not cover the arms at least to the elbows; and scarcely reaches a bit beyond the knees. Furthermore, dresses of trans parent materials are improper.”-The Cardinal-Vicar of Pope Pius XI.

1. Marylike is modest without compromise, “like Mary,” Christ’s Mother.

2. Marylike dresses have sleeves extending at least to the elbows; and skirts reaching below the knees. (NOTE: because of impossible market conditions quarter-length sleeves are temporarily tolerated with Ecclesiastical Approval, until Christian womanhood again turns to Mary as the model of modesty in dress.)

3. Marylike dresses require full coverage for the bodice, chest, shoulders, and back; except for a cut-out about the neck not exceeding two inches below the neckline in front and in back, and a corresponding two inches on the shoulders.

4. Marylike dresses do not admit as modest coverage transparent fabrics-laces, nets, organdy, nylons, etc.- unless sufficient backing is added. However, their moderate use as trimmings is acceptable.

5. Marylike dresses avoid the improper use of flesh-colored fabrics.

6. Marylike dresses conceal rather than reveal the figure of the wearer; they do not emphasize, unduly, parts of the body.

7. Marylike dresses provide full coverage, even after jacket, cape or stole are removed.

* * *

“Marylike” fashions are designed to conceal as much of the body as possible, rather than reveal. This would automatically eliminate such fashions as tight slacks, jeans, sweaters, shorts: shorts which do not reach down to the knees: sheer blouses and sleeveless dresses: etc. The Marylike standards are a guide to instill a “sense of modesty.” A girl who follows these, and looks up to Mary as her ideal and model, will have no problem of modesty in dress. She will not be an occasion of sin or source of embarrassment or shame to others.

Keep this folder with you at all times to use as a guide when buying clothes. Make sure that you purchase only garments which meet the Marylike Standards. “Be Marylike by being modest-be modest by being Marylike.”

ACT OF CONSECRATION TO THE IMMACULATE HEART OF MARY FOR PURITY Oh, Immaculate Heart of Mary, Virgin Most Pure, mindful of the terrible moral dangers threatening on all sides, and aware of my own human weakness, I voluntarily place myself, body and soul, this day and always, under your loving maternal care and protection.

I consecrate to you my body, with all its members, asking you to help me never to use it as an occasion of sin to others. Help me to remember that my body is “The Temple of the Holy Ghost,” and to use it according to God’s Holy Will, for my own personal salvation, and the salvation of others.

I consecrate to you my soul, asking you to watch over it, and to bring it home safe to you and to Jesus in Heaven for all eternity.

O Mary, my Mother, all that I am, all that I have is yours. Keep me and guard me under your mantle of mercy, as your personal property and possession.

“Jesus, Mary, I love you; save souls!”

“O Mary conceived without sin, pray for us who have recourse to Thee.”

IMPRIMATUR: = Albert R. Zuroweste. Bishop of Belleville, Illinois

Feast of Our Lady of Mercy, Sept. 24, 1956

TO SAFEGUARD YOUR PURITY

With the grace of God, the virtue of purity is obtained by vigilance and the formation of good habits. To safeguard our purity is part and parcel of learning self-control. All means that can strengthen the will are to be encouraged, whether natural or supernatural, e.g. avoiding bad company, praying. Anything that weakens the will is to be avoided. Countless souls down the ages have preserved and protected THIS NOBLE VIRTUE by the following means:

1. Receive Holy Communion often with great devotion and reverence.

2. Go to Confession regularly, at least once a month but if possible every two weeks or even weekly.

3. Have a special devotion to the Blessed Virgin, Mary Immaculate. Say your three Hail Mary’s morning and night. In temptation, call earnestly on Our Divine Lord, Our Blessed Lady and St. Joseph. Imitate Our Lady’s modesty in dress, speech and behaviour.

4. Avoid people whose conduct offends purity and whose conversation is impure (off-colour stories, doublemeaning jokes, etc.). Avoid suggestive comics, magazines, books and especially avoid bad television, films and videos.

5. Much modern pop music is designed to demoralise by rousing the passions through its beat and suggestive words. Avoid this along with all discos and improper dancing.

6. Always remember that intemperate use of alcohol, and of course drugs, is certainly a near occasion of sins of impurity.

7. Develop various interests for your spare time, such as . . . good reading, art, painting, learn a musical instrument, a useful hobby, gardening, etc.

8. Pray to the Patrons of Purity—Saint Joseph, Saint Dominic Savio, Saint Maria Goretti, your Guardian Angel and others.

O Saint Maria Goretti, who, strengthened by God’s grace, did not hesitate, even at the age of eleven, to shed your blood and sacrifice life itself to defend your virginal purity, deign to look graciously on the unhappy human race which has strayed far from the path of eternal salvation. Teach us all, and especially our youth, the courage and promptness to flee for love of Jesus, anything that could offend Him or stain our souls with sin. Obtain for us from Our Lord and Our Lady Immaculate, victory in temptation, comfort in the sorrows of life, and the grace which we earnestly beg of thee, purity in soul and body, so that we may one day enjoy with thee the imperishable glory of heaven. Amen.

SHORT PRAYERS TO REPEAT IN TIME OF TEMPTATION . O MARY, CONCEIVED WITHOUT SIN, PRAY FOR US WHO HAVE RECOURSE TO THEE. MY JESUS, MERCY!

Jesus, Mary, Joseph, I love You, save souls.

My Jesus, pardon and mercy, by the merits of Thy Holy Wounds. Most Sacred Heart of Jesus, I trust in Thee!

********

Stepping Stones On The Journey

DEDICATED TO THE HEART THAT SUFFERED FOR ME, AS A LOVE-GIFT OF REPARATION

INDEX

FOREWORD

“All creatures are to be used by us as stepping stones to God.”

* * * *

Certain treasured “stepping-stones” have been very carefully gathered by the compiler in the Summer-time of life, and later, when help and courage were needed on the journey.

Down the years these Sunbeams-the golden memories of retreats, conferences and instructions, have brought many a joy and consolation in dark days.

It would seem selfish not to share with others the many graces to be found hidden in this harvest of notes and extracts.

May the effort to console the loving Compassionate Heart of The Master be crowned with success by helping souls so dear to Him

“to follow Him more nearly and love Him more dearly.”

Feast of the Good Shepherd,

April 30, 1933.

God bless the Readers

With blessings beyond hope or thought With blessings that no words can find. -Alfred Lord Tennyson.

* * * *

The Friendship of Christ is not a luxury-something we can do without-it is a dire necessity in the lives of thinking men and women.

* * * *

Happiness here means holiness -and holiness means the union of our will with the Will of God. * * * *

Wonder not that Providence should sanction Pain. Wonder not, for the world has been brought back to holiness by the blessing of the Cross.

* * * *

Pain and pleasure both are useful in our life. Do not rail in silly thought or sinful speech against the wisdom of the tenderness of Providence.

* * * *

Often think of the last words you say in your Creed, “Life Everlasting”-You may be sure that all the joys of this world will be united in Heaven-to last for all Eternity.

* * * *

It is personal friendship of the Good Shepherd for each one that decides His opinion of us-He knows how to excuse many of our faults, because He knows that our thought was not quite clear and that our will was not quite free.

What others have would not suit us—What we have we do not value—What we have not we desire.

Ask Jesus to give us His Love and His grace, all else is naught.

Submission to God’s Will sweetens life, and no sorrow seems too difficult to bear when we love God’s Will. * * * *

In full a hundred places in Scripture, God’s Love for those who love the truth is referred to-Many do not care to see the truth, but hug their delusions with affection, though perhaps unconsciously.

* * * *

Let the Heart of Christ be the first to hear our sorrows and the first to hear the accents of our loving thanks when joy fills our souls.

* * * *

Look ever upward and onward towards the goal of Eternal happiness, and nothing will rob you of the Peace that the Friendship of Christ bestows.

* * * *

“Not my will but Thine be done,” our Divine Lord teaches us devotion to our Father’s Will.

* * * *

Bear sorrow unselfishly and your sorrow will be turned into joy.

* * * *

Praise is the creature’s answer to the beauty and kind ness of the Creator-Our relations with God as His creatures, are the nearest and dearest and sweetest claims to the mercy of Him Who knoweth the frailty of those He has made. * * * *

Labour in His Cause Who alone can reward your toil.

Time spent in the service of any but the Divine Master is time lost.

* * * *

There is only one love worth seeking, One friendship worth prizing, one judgement worth fearing. * * * *

Look from beneath the cross of today to the sunshine of tomorrow, and cultivate a grateful heart in storm and in calm.

* * * * Be kind to the poor and miserable.

Be kind to the sick and sad.

Be kind to the weak and wayward

Be kind to the rough and cynical.

And Oh, be kind to the poor sinner.

* * * *

To brood over our sufferings is poison to the soul—So also is pondering over the faults of others.

* * * *

Let your conscience be sincere and upright during life. It will be your consolation in death and your advocate at the Judgment Seat of Christ.

* * * *

Calvary is the Master’s school of suffering-learn from Christ Crucified to bear life’s trials patiently in sympathy with Him Who died to win our love.

* * * *

A few years of labour-then eternal rest.

A few years of struggle-then everlasting Peace. * * * *

Peace is the field in which all virtues play. The best thoughts to keep us in peace are of our Lord’s mercies to us, which give us joy-and our sins to keep us humble.

* * * *

Christ will be my Judge and I may disarm His Judgments by never passing a severe judgment on anyone. * * * *

Suffer with joy-the reward is not far in the distance.

A few short years of patient labour here, on earth; and then a crown of everlasting bliss-in Heaven. * * * *

It matters not what we HAVE BEEN but what we ARE. Even in the few years that may remain to us we may become the beloved friends of God and heirs to His Kingdom.

* * * *

Creatures are the veil which hide God; they are good angels to help us, or evil ones to turn us away from God. * * * *

They only are brave who rely on the infinite forgiveness of God and after each fall ask pardon and again begin with renewed sorrow . . . renewed trust in the inexhaustible loving kindness of our God.

* * * *

Ask our Lord very earnestly to show you what He wants of you and to give you the strength and courage to give it to Him.

* * * *

Thoughts and feelings do not matter. We shall be judged only by our will.

* * * *

“There was one Heart that loved us to the end-to the end of love, and to the end of suffering. Let us remember this and we can very well afford to do without human love.”

* * * *

God has too much respect for our free-will to interfere with us and force us-our freewill is God’s special gift. * * * *

It is not an easy thing to reform our character in such a manner that we preserve only what is good, and succeed in correcting what is defective.

* * * *

True devotion is never a melancholy thing for our selves or for others. God loves to see His children happy even in the midst of varied anxieties.

* * * *

Suffering borne for the sake of Christ purifies the soul from the dross of earth and is the prelude of true super natural joy of heart.

* * * *

Forget self, and be one of those to whom any one can come for assistance and will be sure of a kind word at least- Listen gently, and let those who have troubles of their own be the more ready to ease the trouble of others. * * * *

We can often give a great deal of help by putting in a word of sympathy now and then.

* * * *

Here we have misunderstanding and loneliness, toil and suffering. In Heaven the Father is waiting to bid us welcome to eternal happiness.

* * * *

If we are always excusing ourselves in our hearts, in our thoughts and in our works, we are full of pride. Our simple prayer should be: “God be merciful to me a sinner.”

* * * *

Beware of anger and bitterness when resisting a false accusation lest you should be led into actual sin, and thus displease Our Lord instead of bearing the trial for His dear sake.

* * * *

We cannot have too much devotion to our guardian angel. He never leaves us. He is given us to guide us in the way of holiness.

Ask the grace to have lowly reverent hearts, that will trust Our Lord in the midst of worries; and will never murmur against God’s Providence.

* * * *

If we fall a hundred times a day we should not despair, but stretch out our hands lovingly to God and beg Him to lift us up and have pity on us.

* * * *

What is called the voice of conscience is in reality the voice of God Himself Who thus warns, enlightens and directs us.

* * * *

Dark days come to all of us in turn. We are on a long journey and should be prepared for storm and rain. Be hind the clouds of today God’s beautiful sunshine is waiting to warm our frozen hearts.

* * * *

God does not care for me one day and hate me the next, He is not inconstant and capricious like man-above everything God wants my love in return for His.

* * * *

Our Lord tries those who are generous-He is so often disappointed in our trust that He eagerly seeks for a soul whom He can try.

* * * *

We should read to improve our minds and to widen our thoughts. Reading suitable books helps our poor weak nature to understand all we need to become the friends of God.

* * * *

We must be intensely holy if we wish to be fit instruments in the hands of the Master to aid Him in His work for souls.

* * * *

Our life work should be the fixing of our happiness in the accomplishment of God’s Will.

* * * *

We meet the same God in death Whom we have so often met in life. Why do we fear our best friend? * * * *

Do we ever consider the character of St. Peter? His vanity, presumption and love of notice. He always felt sure he knew best, bringing on himself many humiliations-But he never failed in his loyalty to our Lord-He was ever ready to submit after his faults; and this always touched the Heart of Christ.

* * * *

Every time we go before the Tabernacle weighted down by any difficulty or care we come away enlightened in mind and strengthened to bear all for Jesus.

* * * *

The Eucharist is the Sacrament of light, of life, of love. Frequently drink at this fountain of grace and you will come away replenished with a God-like strength ready to triumph over every little difficulty that lies across your path to holiness.

* * * *

They who enter on the path of sanctity need no equipment of soul so much as confidence in God. Perfect trust and perfect conformity to His Will.

* * * *

If we could but realise our own weakness, and the need we have of God’s help, and His readiness to help us in all our difficulties, we should look to Him with so much more confidence.

* * * *

SACRED HEART OF JESUS

Thou knowest all,

Thou canst do all,

I trust all to Thee. MAY THY HOLY WILL BE DONE. * * * *

Help thy brother’s boat across, and lo! thine own has reached the shore. * * * *

Go on each morning as you rise,

Receive the gift that angels prize.

* * * *

Keep on good terms with everyone you meet, till you climb the hill of Heaven’s elect.

* * * *

Do we pray and intercede for others, specially for poor sinners? If we could but know how much depends on our prayers, we would not be so selfish and forgetful of others-They will help us in return. We cannot afford to do without each other.

* * * * Bear a little chaff for the precious grain He gives you. * * * *

The more we love Mary, the greater will be our love for Jesus.

* * * *

The spirit of Joy is the only spirit in which we can do any good either for ourselves or others. * * * *

No two beings are created to give God the same glory- but a particular character, a particular place for each one- Whatever else I may seek, I shall be uneasy and restless, out of my place.

* * * *

When overwhelmed with some anxious care or disturbed by annoyance let us remember and be consoled at the thought of the Joys of Paradise.

* * * *

If we trust God there can be no failure in the Spiritual life. Pray for confidence in God. Suffering is the prelude of future joy and happiness.

* * * * Drive sadness far from you. It has ruined many and done good to none. * * * * We are saved by hope and confidence in God.

* * * *

Our greatest need is want of light. There is but little light in us, and this we quickly lose through negligence. * * * *

Dear Lord, by the gentle touch of Thy Almighty grace, impart to my weak will a firm purpose to seek Thee alone. * * * *

My God, give me something of that Peace and Joy of soul which Thy Holy Sacrament bestows on all who seek Thee as the One True Friend.

* * * *

We ought to ask for great graces not for ourselves alone, but for the whole world. Ask for grace to overcome our faults so that we may console His heart.

* * * *

God tells us we are to “Delight in the Lord” and He never tells us to do what is impossible.

* * * *

No one ever despises his own work-an author loves his book, an artist his picture. God is our Author, our Artist, and He cannot bear to see anything done to spoil us.

There are few things the sanctity of human sorrow cannot do. God seems to treat it as a power almost co- equal with Himself.

It is we who weigh upon ourselves. Self is the irksome weight. All things look always straight to those who can themselves see straight.

* * * *

It is worth while to have lived, if it were only to have known the delight of Trusting God.

* * * *

Ah! never is our love so pure as when refined by pain, Or when God’s glory upon earth finds in our loss-His gain. * * * *

We must have the large-hearted, large-minded, tender, compassionate, patient liberty of spirit that characterised Our Lord.

* * * *

The wisest wisdom in the world is the wisdom that comes from suffering.

* * * *

We are all children of our Heavenly Father. He loved us as none other can, and loves each one with an ever lasting Love.

* * * *

There is a greater greatness than the greatness of success, and that is the greatness of failure. * * * *

God wants us to let trouble come and go, no matter what it is, and to trust Him.

* * * *

We have all to learn our lesson at the cost of experience.

* * * *

The humble, meek acceptance of failure, is the deep foundation of great holiness-Failure is good for every one but necessary for some.

* * * *

God is always ready to forgive us after we have sinned if we will only humble ourselves and make an act of trust in Him.

* * * *

Tell Jesus after Holy Communion that you trust in Him-that you believe He loves you. Thus we may hope that lasting good will come to our souls.

* * * *

We should have a great desire in our hearts to be the friend of God. What an honour to desire the friendship of our King.

* * * *

Why am I, after so many years, still so cold, weak and miserable? Because an infinite God can only give me according to the capacity of my heart to receive His gifts.

* * * *

Let us make good use of our failures and not be down cast. One day of humble acceptance of failure is better than a month of triumphant victory.

* * * *

It is not the conquest that is so pleasing to Our Lord- but the struggle.

* * * *

Our work may seem but a discord,

Though we do the best we can,

But others will hear the music

If we carry out God’s plan.

True knowledge of the good that is in us aids in carrying on good works. It leads us to do more for God. * * * *

The life that has been spent in industry and striving and which is yet a failure is the nearest approach to that of Christ, for what was His life viewed only with external eyes, but a great failure.

* * * *

The Sacred Heart’s craving for us is so great that He threatens us with Hell only if we do not trust Him. * * * *

All discouragement comes from pride. Those who fail, through no fault of their own, ought to rejoice in suffering as reparation for past faults.

* * * *

When in doubt, do what you believe to be right, and leave the consequence to God.

A good way to test our self-love is to examine ourselves well as to our feelings of indignation. How can one so vile as I am, dare to be indignant?

* * * *

God loves truth. The half-conscious errors which we cherish and fear to bring to the light lest we should see their untruth, are displeasing to God.

* * * *

Pride and contrition cannot dwell in the same heart. We sometimes forget the enormous capability for sin which exists in our hearts.

* * * *

Blessed are those who overlook the faults of others, remembering how liable they are to fail themselves. When we want to please God, and cause joy to His Heart, let us practise humility-This is what God cannot resist. * * * *

Desires-even if never put into action-are very pleas ing to Our Lord, give Him great glory and prepare crowns for us.

* * * *

In God’s service, desires, if it is not our fault that we do not put them into action, are gladly accepted by God, and it is well to remember this, because we have so very little else we can give to God.

* * * *

We must be patient, first with ourselves, or we shall never acquire habitual calmness which is the mark of true sanctity.

* * * *

We must have patience with others, patience with their whims, their fancies and humours. Not a dry, hard patience, but a kind, loving one-never showing we are bored.

* * * *

The world promises joys and pleasures and when we have satiated ourselves, we find their utter worthlessness-We must learn our lessons.

* * * * They do enough who do the Will of God.

* * * *

Our Lord asked specially for Reparation and for Communions of Reparation. The more the thought of Reparation grows in our hearts the more we will long to comfort and console our best Friend.

* * * *

Whatever is done out of love for Jesus and with a pure intention always bears fruit. It may not be of a kind visible in this world, but it surely does its work springing into life eternal.

* * * *

Among all the hearts of men, not one can be found as grateful as the Heart of Jesus for the least service we render Him, the least little thing we do for His sake.

Be satisfied with your present life, and lead it to the full. Be content with things as they are and make the best of them.

* * * *

Art is a vocation, and fine art, whether the artist wills it or not, wields a strange power of fascinating the fancy, and of conquering the heart.

* * * *

We all make mistakes. What we ought to do is to try to profit by them. How am I to find out what God wants me to do? We need never be afraid-if we really want to please God we shall do so.

* * * *

All joy comes from God-What did He promise to His followers? Peace, and peace is a more tranquil form of joy. * * * *

Never give way to that false persuasion that the service of God means pain and difficulty-We never serve Him so well as in Joy.

Children of the Celtic Catholic race, think of what Saint Patrick gave us and what we must guard-the honour of Ireland.

* * * *

Great character is a growth that springs from motives as hidden, yet as firm and as hardy as the oaktree’s roots. * * * *

Least of all is great work done for God at haphazard or in a hurry, but is perfected with the immolation of each unnoticed fruitful hour.

* * * *

The Saint lives neither in the past nor in the future, but tries to be always at work to perfect the present. * * * *

We offer Thee, dear Sacred Heart,

The anguish and the pain of mind

Poor Mortals feel when first they find

The hearts grown cold that once were kind.

* * * *

Why should we shrink from shame and humiliation? Did not the Master suffer public humiliations and scorn-and for me. Could we but know the value of suffering for Him.

* * * *

Our “darkness” is so deplorable, and we never ask for it to be removed. Lord that I may see

* * * *

There is greatness in sacrifice-of which others less great may reap the fruit.

* * * *

What holds us back from being happy, is want of hope and confidence. All can be happy if they believe that God wants to fill their hearts with peace and happiness.

* * * *

Our Mother Mary will, if we ask her, help us to check the waste of such a precious thing as sorrow. * * * *

Those who keep a corner of their hearts consecrated to sadness will never advance in holiness. * * * *

The Holy Ghost comes to give us, in all its plenitude, the gift of fortitude to make us strong to suffer. * * * *

Which of us makes everything turn to the honour and glory of God? Are we not fools, in a world of fools, to forget this duty?

* * * *

From God alone I came. To God alone I go-His one purpose to save me-His one desire to help me-Hence His unconquerable patience-Hence my, unfailing hope. * * * *

God’s Providence put me in this world and in this place, all weak, that I might lean on Him and never doubt the forgiveness of One who knows me through and through.

* * * *

God will do anything to save a soul that loves His Mother, or that has loved her.

* * * *

“Teach me dear Lord to love Thee and loving Thee, to serve Thee without counting the cost.” * * * *

The praises of men pass. Let us seek only to glorify God in our work, taking cheerfully success or failure as He chooses to send it.

* * * *

To pray, to toil, to suffer, make up life, and from none of these can God obtain glory unless Peace is in the heart. What are the obstacles to Peace? Chiefly-unworthy fears of God.

* * * *

When there is storm in our hearts how often we forget to have recourse to God. There is no cry that comes from any human heart, that does not go straight to Our Lord’s human heart, and find sympathy there-and it is always heard. Every cry, every word of ours is treasured in the Sacred Heart.

* * * *

Among all the hearts of men not one can be found as grateful as the Heart of Jesus for the least service we render Him, the least thing we do for His sake.

* * * *

Magdalen obtained for herself and for those who ask it of her the grace of true distrust of self and trust in God. This is why those who ever offended Christ, love Magdalen so much and find such powerful help in her intercession. * * * *

One of the sweetest graces Our Lord gave us was at the very close of His life when in the person of St. John He made Mary our Mother.

* * * *

What we are in God’s sight, that is our worth-and no more.

Darkness comes from God as well as light, and that, as a poet of our own day, has put it, “ Our gloom is after all, only Shade of His hand outstretched caressingly.”

* * * *

Acting up to Grace means doing the easy things that come our way, doing them well and doing them humbly because they are His Will. Thus do we become saints.

* * * *

You will find in Jesus the Friend you want so badly and one that will not change with the weather. A Friend that will protect you in all your hidden trials, Who will be always patient with you, Who will never tire of you when you are so tired of yourself.

* * * *

The shortest way to the Heart of God is to take Him at His word. A saint is one who believes God’s promises and trusts Him entirely, and always.

* * * *

Take comfort for your soul from the written word of those who were saints and who suffered and prayed that they might help souls to know and love Jesus better.

FOR RELIGIOUS

“Beati qui habitant in Domo tua Domine.”

Our value and worth in our Community is simply what we are in God’s sight.

* * * *

There is no preparation for death like a good Religious life.

* * * *

There is nothing so sanctifying in the religious life as the frequent renewal of our Purity of Intention. * * * *

Never rest satisfied until you have made yourself the last in the house, and God will make you great in your Eternal Home.

* * * *

Be joyous and light-hearted. It is only the soul that works for Jesus that will taste the sweets of the Religious life and the precious gifts of the Sacred Heart.

* * * *

How we shall rejoice for all eternity that our life and our love were spent in the service of Our Lord and Master. * * * *

Look ever upward and onward towards the goal of eternal happiness and nothing will rob you of the peace bestowed on the faithful Spouse of Christ.

* * * *

It was to help Christ in His combat for souls, and our own in particular, we entered religion. * * * *

We can often make it a religious duty to laugh and be cheerful, especially when our heart is many degrees lower than its right place.

* * * *

In religion, Obedience is our most precious treasure. By it, every act is changed into gold.

* * * *

We must understand that our life in religion is our Crucifixion and we need no other cross than that of forcing ourselves to model our lives on our rules and to observe them to the letter, but always without scrupulosity. * * * *

We can always make religious life joyous and bright. Even when sorrow comes let us bear it unselfishly. * * * *

If you keep Christ before you as the object of your love, LOVE then will be your only rule and you will care nothing for anyone’s opinion but God’s.

* * * *

The exact observance of religious discipline is our highest claim to holiness. To be ever ready to keep our Rules in the spirit and in the letter is the daily cross of the soul vowed to a Crucified Redeemer.

* * * *

They who enter on the path of sanctity need no equipment of soul so much as confidence in God. Trust in God wards off all failure in the Spiritual life.

* * * *

To prepare for Holy Communion we must watch over our hearts and keep them from every strain. We must yield nothing to self but do all and suffer all for Jesus, in preparation for His loving entry into the soul of His child. * * * *

Nazareth is the school of labour where Christ teaches devotion to work and duty. The God-Man working at an humble trade is a solemn condemnation of the Gospel of idleness practised by the do-nothings of the world. * * * *

The soul that loves God needs no other love. Friendship between the Father and His Child is Divine and will bear no admixture of earthly affection.

Let the one predominating desire of my life be the salvation of my own soul.

* * * *

Purity of intention is the touch-stone of a perfect religious life. If God be the only aim of our life on earth we will possess Him for all eternity.

* * * *

Ever seek the lowest place without seeming to do so. If you make yourself the least in the Community God will make you great in His Kingdom.

* * * *

Sorrow is by no means a sickness of soul-it is a health and strength and vigour.

* * * *

Sorrow is a sanctuary as long as self is kept outside. Self is the desecrating principle. If a time of sorrow is not the harvest-time of grace it is sure to be the harvest- time of Self.

* * * *

In religion we often come near to rest and then are cheated of it, and after that we reach a better rest through disappointment, better because it was not our own choice and better, as it proves in its very self. * * * *

Sorrow is the tool with which God finishes the statue and animates it with its beautiful expression. * * * *

There is a peculiar service, a distinct glory which God desires to have from every religious different from the service and the glory of any other soul.

* * * *

What comfort for us all to know that God knows everything. There is light for every darkness in that simple truth.

* * * *

Sorrow is a condition of time, but joy is the condition of eternity. All sorrow lies in exile from God, all joy in union with Him.

* * * *

We have espoused Our Lord for better, for worse, in sickness and in health, but not, till death part us-only until death shall join us to Him for evermore.

* * * *

The hidden life teaches us a life of hidden obscurity. This exacts a repression of the most indomitable passion of the heart which is a craving to be loved, to be esteemed.

* * * *

The work that God gives us to do to help Him is a real work which we cannot do unless we overcome ourselves. * * * *

Like the Samaritan give of your little. A kind word goes a long way. Listen gently, and let those who have troubles of their own be the more ready to ease the troubles of others.

* * * *

Noble independence is the lesson we should learn in Religion. Creatures of themselves can do nothing: why fear or fret about what is going to happen to us through their means. It is all in the hands of God. We may be in peace. * * * *

We are created for perfection. It is the Will of God that our lives be spent in the pursuit of Virtue. How we should love our vocation and do it honour!

* * * *

Look at Our Lord calling us to follow Him. Look at His manner, the expression of His eyes, listen to the sound of His voice. How do we resemble Him when engaged in our duties?

* * * *

We should never neglect our spiritual duties on account of our work-we are not serving God by doing so. * * * *

We honour God by trusting Him. He only wants us to be sorry if we fail, and never doubt His love. To doubt His love pains Him. * * * *

Let us never be cast down. God’s grace can do all things. Nothing is impossible to those who believe. * * * *

It is worth while to suffer! Those who love suffering cannot sin. Ask for courage.

* * * *

Try to fulfil very perfectly all the designs of God, endeavouring to please Him in everything you do. Often tell Our Lord you want only Him.

* * * *

You are very silly and very young in the spiritual life if you are discouraged by the ups and downs that come. * * * *

God does not want our spiritual life to be a constant strain, uneasy, foggy, thorny. He loves peace and joy and spiritual gaiety.

The beginning of wisdom is fear. When once we get close to God, away with fear. Perfect love and perfect trust. * * * *

Neither sadness, darkness nor sorrow can drive Jesus from my heart, if it be not by my own will. * * * *

Detachment brings peace to the heart. To attach ourselves to any creature is to embrace decay. All things pass away with time.

* * * *

Why do we doubt? Why are we not sure of the sympathy of the Heart of Jesus? No one can know us as Our Lord does because He alone created us.

* * * *

If we are scrupulous and doubt after having made our act of contrition we are insulting God and are placing perfection almost beyond our reach.

* * * *

Distrust is the one thing Jesus hates. He can turn every other fault to His glory and our sanctification but not this one. Let us be done with it now and for ever.

* * * *

Well may we appreciate our vocation! Is there anything greater than this wearing out one’s life for Him? Only awaiting that blessed time when we shall see Him in the fullness of His beauty.

—Nihil Obstat:

Reccaredus Fleming,

Censor Theol. Deput.

Imprimi Potest:

@ Eduardus,

Archiep. Dublinen., Hiberniae Primas.

Dublini, die 30 Dec., anno 1931.

Strange To The Convert

BY REV. EDWARD K. TAYLOR C.M.S

INDEX

Most Converts accept easily all that the Church teaches. Some find it difficult to adopt Catholic practices, either because of a lingering fear that they may have pagan origins, or because they have an exaggerated idea of the spiritual nature of religion and want ceremonies to be few and very simple.

The Church is an all-embracing mother. She will take into her bosom all that is good in human nature and suffuse it with grace. She did not suppress entirely the beautiful ways which pagans and Jews found of expressing to God the deep desires of their hearts. She transformed and Christianised them. She knows that “God is a spirit; and they that adore Him must adore Him in spirit and truth” (John 4:2). But she also knows that man’s spirit is not disembodied and worships through the five senses. Christ Himself gave her the seven sacraments, the outward signs of inward grace, and the authority to make laws for their administration. But she does not despise other ways which the human heart has found to help it to reach out to God.

We will examine seven of these ways.

CANDLES

Light dispels darkness and with it ignorance and fear. It is beautiful in itself. Hence it is a joy to the heart of man. It has played a prominent part in all religions. The pagans offered lights to their gods to ward off their anger. But for the Jews it was a symbol of God’s Truth. “Thy word is a lamp to my feet and a light to my paths” (Psalm 118 : 105). It was also a symbol of the presence of God, the ‘shekinah.’ The curtain of fire, burned always in the sanctuary of the Temple. In the Holy Place also stood the seven-branch candlestick. These were apt symbols of God, who is “like the light of the morning when the sun riseth” (2 Kings 23 : 4). It was in the Temple where these lights burned that Simeon, who stood at the gateway between the old and the new Testaments, took the Child into his arms and called Him, “a light to the revelation of the gentiles and the glory of my people Israel” (Luke 2 : 32). And Christ Himself said, “I am the light of the world” (John 9 : 5).

SYMBOL OF CHRIST

For the Christian, then, a light was the symbol of Christ. In the ceremonies of the Eve of Easter, the deacon holds up the newly lighted candle and cries, “Lumen Christi” (The Light of Christ!) The Paschal candle stands in a tall candlestick on the Gospel side of the sanctuary and is lit at the High Mass. It is extinguished for the last time after the singing of the Gospel on Ascension Thursday, so representing the departure of Christ from the earth.

The sanctuary lamp that burns in every church where the Blessed Sacrament is reserved, is a sign of the presence of Christ in the tabernacle, “who enlighteneth every man born into this world” (John 1 : 9).

SPLENDOUR

Candles are also used to give glory to God by making splendid the place of His dwelling. St John tells how in his vision he saw Jesus surrounded by seven golden candlesticks, bearing seven stars in His hand and His face and eyes full of light. He calls Him, “He who holdeth the seven stars in His right hand, who walketh in the midst of the seven golden candlesticks” (Apoc. 2 : 1).

This text may have suggested the custom of surrounding the altar, which represents Christ, with candlesticks. In the twelfth century the custom arose of putting seven candlesticks on the altar. The deacons of the seven great churches of Rome each carried his candlestick to the church where the faithful were gathered and placed it on the altar. When the custom arose of standing a crucifix in the centre of the altar, one of these candlesticks had to be removed. Now there are always six great candles on the main altar. Christ, as in the vision of St John, walks in the midst of the candlesticks. The two small candles used for low masses were originally for the purpose of lighting the book. But they also symbolise Christ, “the light of the world.”

SACRAMENTALS

Candles are also sacramentals. These are certain prayers, actions and objects blessed by the Church, who prays that those who use them devoutly may receive special favours. On Candlemas Day, 2nd February, the Feast of the Purification, the Church blesses all the Candles to be used in worship throughout the year. She prays that they will remind us of Christ, give glory to God in ceremonies and bring blessings to those who use them. They are used in the administration of all the sacraments and in all ceremonies.

VOTIVE OFFERINGS

Candles are used as offerings given in fulfilment of a promise made to God or a saint when asking for a favour. They also express all the aspirations of prayer. In human relationship we express our feelings of love, sorrow, gratitude, by giving little gifts, even as inexpensive as a birthday card. We make a sacrifice of money to get something pleasing as a mark of affection. Christians sacrifice a little money to adorn the shrine of a saint with a light which burns when they are gone as an abiding symbol of their devotion. We write messages on birthday cards, or make our own words printed there. When we give our gift to the shrine we express our thoughts to the saint in our own words or the words of set prayers given to us in prayer books.

Votive lights are not blessed, and they are not sacramentals. There is danger that ignorant people should become too attached to them and exaggerate their importance. For this reason the Cardinal Vicar of Rome, in 1932, forbade the use of them in the churches of Rome. He suggested that the faithful should make offerings of the beeswax candles blessed on Candlemas Day and used in liturgical worship. But this was to stop an abuse in a particular place. Our shrines are beautified by candlelight and many fervent prayers are said on the occasion of offering a candle.

INCENSE

The ancient pagans used incense. They heaped this powdered or granulated resin on glowing coals to send up a fragrant smoke to please the king whom they wished to honour or the god whom they wished to placate. Carvings in Egyptian tombs show us kings offering incense in round containers, with holes in the top, suspended on chains, very like the censers used in Catholic churches today. The Book of Leviticus told the Jews to burn incense in the tabernacle so that “when the perfumes are put upon the fire, the cloud and vapour thereof may cover the oracle” (Lev. 16 : 13). Zachary was offering it when “there appeared to him an angel of the Lord, standing on the right side of the altar of incense” (Luke 1: 11). It was used during Jewish religious meals, and may well have been burned at the Last Supper.

SYMBOLISM OF INCENSE

The fragrant smoke was used in ancient times to sweeten the air in the presence of kings, and so became a mark of honour. The Magi brought to Bethlehem gifts befitting a king, “gold, frankincense and myrrh” (Matt. 2 : 11). For the Jews it was also a symbol of prayer, which rises before the throne of God like the smoke before the thrones of earthly kings. They sang in their psalm, “Let my prayer be directed as incense in thy sight” (Psalm 1.40 : 2).

We may presume that like so much of the Jewish ritual, the use of incense was carried into Christian usage in the first century. But we have no certain historical evidence of its use until the fifth century. Then it became universal in East and West. Its symbolism has not changed.

The Church, like God’s people of old, uses it to show honour to God Himself, to His ministers and to the sacred objects used in His service. At the High Mass the priest swings the smoking censer towards the Crucifix, honouring Christ who reigns from the Cross. He swings it about the altar, which represents Christ, the bread and wine which is to be consecrated into the Body and Blood of Christ. The deacon, swinging the censer towards them, honours first the celebrant, then the attendant clerics, then the congregation of the people, worthy of honour as “a chosen generation, a kingly priesthood, a holy nation, a purchased people” (1 Peter 2 : 9). At the little ceremony of Benediction of the Blessed Sacrament, the priest twice puts incense on the lighted charcoal and swings it towards the Blessed Sacrament.

As for the Jews, so for the Church, it is a symbol of prayer also. St John saw “the smoke of the incense of the prayers of the saints” rising before the throne of God (Apoc. 8 : 4). As the priest in the High Mass incenses the bread and wine at the Offertory, he says, “May this incense blessed by Thee ascend to Thee O Lord; and may Thy mercy descend upon us.” As he incenses the crucifix and the altar he recites the words of the 140th psalm: “Let my prayer, O Lord, be directed as incense in Thy sight., the lifting up of my hands as an evening sacrifice. Set a watch, O Lord, before my mouth and a door round about my lips. Incline not my heart to evil words, to make excuses in sin.” Finally, “May the Lord kindle in us the fire of His love, and the flame of everlasting charity, Amen.”

MEDALS

A medal is a coin-like disc with an image and an inscription. They are given as marks of distinction by the State to citizens who have served it well. Sometimes they commemorate some great event. But religious medals are wholly different in purpose.

Pliny tells us that amulets, talismans and charms, thought to have power to ward off evil, were worn round the neck by Romans of all classes. Again, Christian religious medals are wholly different from these.

We possess Christian medals of the second and fourth centuries. Their wording and inscriptions show that they were worn as memorials of religious events such as Baptism, First Communion or Confirmation. In medieval times tokens in lead were sold at all places of pilgrimage, and were worn as a sign that the wearer had made the pilgrimage. Giraldus Cambrensis went on pilgrimage to the shrineof St Thomas of Canterbury only ten years after the saint’s death. He tells us he saw pilgrims with medals of St Thomas hanging about their necks. No doubt they were worn out of devotion as well as boastfully. Innocent III in 1200 granted the canons ofSt Peter’s the monopoly of casting lead and pewter images of the saints, to be worn by pilgrims “for the increase of their devotion and a testimony of the journey which they had accomplished.”

Not till the end of the sixteenth century do we find medals worn merely out of devotion and enriched by the Church with indulgences. Since then hundreds of different types of medals have been struck. They are a reminder of some point of doctrine, such as the Sacred Heart, or some event, such as the apparitions at Lourdes, or some holy place, such as Rome, or of a patron saint. Embossed on the medals are images and words to explain their purpose. They are also worn as badges of sodalities or confraternities.

AIDS TO DEVOTION

They are aids to devotion for many thousands of people. They remind them of the doctrine commemorated and are an inspiration to brief meditations and little prayers. Or they remind them of the patron saint and encourage them to pray for help. The very act of wearing them is a prayer and a pledge of love. If they are worn in the lapel of the coat or round the neck, they are also a public profession of faith. There is a danger that ignorant people might use them superstitiously, thinking that these pieces of metal have power to drive away evil. That is a pagan idea. The medal is effective only because of the blessing of the Church, and the prayers of the wearer. The Church’s motive in encouraging their use is shown by the prayers she uses when blessing them. For instance at the blessing of the Miraculous Medal, first struck on the insistence of St Catherine Laboure in 1830, the Church prays: “Almighty and merciful God . . . bless this medal that they who meditate on it and wear it with devotion may feel her (Mary’s) protection and obtain Thy mercy. Through Christ Our Lord, Amen.

Many people put themselves under the protection of Our Lady of Lourdes by wearing her medal about their neck. Many motorists have in their cars the medal of St Christopher, patron saint of travellers.

ATTITUDES IN PRAYER

The Catholic manner of praying in public might seem strange to the convert. He may have been taught to attach great importance to the words of prayers pronounced by the minister in an audible voice and said slowly and meaningly by the people. He may be puzzled by the rapid Latin of the priest at Mass and the gabbling of the people in their rosaries and litanies. He may also feel that the endless repetition of the same words is meaningless.

He must learn that the priest at the altar is not there to impress the people with his own devotion, but to do something in the name of God and the people. He submerges his own personality with its idiosyncracies, adopts garments, actions and tones of voice fixed precisely by laws, because he is acting not on his own behalf, but rather lends limbs and voice to Christ who offers the Sacrifice through him.

ATTITUDE OF MIND

The Catholic does not seek to talk to God phrase by phrase. He seeks to acquire an attitude of mind towards God, to be turned towards Him lovingly and familiarly, whether practising vocal or mental prayer. He may remember a story from Scripture, or dwell on a dogma of the Faith, in order that he might be moved to make acts of adoration, love, thanksgiving, sorrow and petition. In his vocal prayer the words are not as important as his attitude and serve him best if they inspire him to lift up his mind and heart to God. He may chatter rapidly without disrespect, for God knows the thoughts before the mouth has uttered them. As for repetitions, it is hard to be always thinking of one’s own words, and the words of others serve as well to lift up the heart. Some will use missals, others prayer books, others rosary beads and some few will remain deep in mental prayer. But all seek to be in the presence of God with the priest who offers the Sacrifice.

The repetitions of the rosary and the litanies may be the hardest for the stranger to understand. But these very repetitions help to put the soul into a state of prayerfulness. The lips are busy, but the soul rides calmly above their efforts, as the gull rides serene above the storm-tossed waters, seemingly motionless, though the tiny feathers at the wing-tips are trembling in the busy motion that keeps it in flight.

DECORUM

Non-Catholics are usually impressed by the devotion of Catholic congregations. They might notice the absence of that studied decorum and dignity of Protestant behaviour in church. These are desirable. But their importance can be exaggerated. There is a danger that public worship should be turned into a performance with minister and people acting to impress each other. We go to church to join with the Christian family in the family spiritual meal. Familiarity with all things sacred is natural to this sacred family. The gurgling of infants, chattering of small children, yawns of youth and groans of the aged are to be expected. As for those who stand apparently vacant, or fidget and look around, they could do better. But they do far more than those who stay away. And the mothers whose Mass-time is a series of interruptions from restless children do not waste their time. Their patient attention to their little ones is a prayer very precious in the sight of Jesus and His Blessed Mother.

NOVENAS

The name novena comes from the Latin word novem, which means nine. It is nine days of prayer to obtain special favours.

The ancient Romans and Greeks had a nine-days commemoration of the dead. This was Christianised, and a novena of masses after death became customary.

NOVENA OF PREPARATION

Our Blessed Lord told the Apostles that after His Ascension into Heaven they were to return to Jerusalem and wait for the coming of the Holy Ghost (Acts 1 : 4). We are told, “All these were persevering with one mind in prayer with the women, and Mary the mother of Jesus, and with His brethren”(Acts 1: 14). They had nine clear days of prayer before Whit Sunday. This gave Christians the idea of preparing for great feasts with nine days of prayer.

The number nine had another significance too.It was presumed that Christ had lain nine months in His Mother’s womb. The custom began in Spain of preparing for Christmas by saying a Votive Mass of Our Lady on the nine days before the feast.

NOVENA OF PETITION

With the number nine thus sanctified, the custom began of saying special prayers on any nine successive days, or on the same day of the week for nine successive weeks, to obtain special favours from Our Lord, Our Lady or a patron saint. Nine is a suitable number. It is not too long a period to be a strain and not too short to be easy. It calls for the two essential elements in prayer. The first is perseverance. We must be like the man in the parable who comes knocking on the neighbour’s door, refusing to go away until heard. Our Lord said, “Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and you shall find; knock, and it shall be opened to you” (Luke 11 : 9).

“Pray without ceasing” says St Paul. (1 Thess. 5 : 17). The second essential element of prayer is penance. St Jane Frances de Chantal said, “Prayer without penance is like meat without salt; it quickly corrupts.” The very endurance in prayer, when the novelty and the first fervour have worn off, is a penance.

NINE FIRST FRIDAYS

Our Blessed Lord showed that He likes the practice of making novenas when He spoke to St Margaret Mary Alacoque about the year 1675. This is His “Great Promise,” in the saint’s own words. “One Friday, during Holy Communion, He said these words to His unworthy servant, if she is not mistaken: “I promise thee, in the exceeding great mercy of my heart, that its all-powerful love will grant to all those who will receive Holy Communion on nine consecutive first Fridays of the month, the grace of final repentance, not dying in my disfavour and without receiving their sacraments,(my divine heart) becoming their assured refuge at the last moment” (Vie et Oeuvres, 1920. vol. 2 p.7397).

In canonising St Margaret Mary, the Church has given us an assurance that her writings contain nothing that merits theological censure. This Promise was among her writings submitted to the Congregation of Sacred Rites for examination, and it was underlined. Six popes have given their commendation to this devotion of the Nine First Fridays. So although the Church did not guarantee the authenticity of these private revelations when she canonised the saint, she has given her approval to the devotion so widely practised throughout the Catholic world of going to Holy Communion on nine successive first Fridays of the month to do honour and make reparation to the Sacred Heart of Jesus.

THE SIGN OF THE CROSS

It has been a custom since Apostolic times to bless actions, persons and things by tracing with finger or hand a sign of the Cross and saying the spiritual words, “In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost.” (Matt. 28:19). The Christian lawyer and theologian Tertullian, writing about the year 202 A.D., says, “At our every advance, entrance and exit, when putting on clothes and shoes, when we wash and eat, light the lamp, lie down, sit down, and in whatever business occupies us, we sign our foreheads with the sign of the cross”(De Corona Militis).

Nowadays we trace the sign from forehead to breast and left shoulder to right. The early Christians needed to be cautious, living in a pagan world, and did it secretly with a finger on the forehead. In medieval days it was the custom to make three such small signs, on forehead, lips and heart, in honour of the Blessed Trinity. This custom is continued in the Mass, at the Gospel.

ACT OF DEDICATION

The Sign of the Cross is not a charm to ward off danger, as many non-Catholics think. It is an act of dedication to God of the action to be done. It is also a meditation on the eternal truths of our religion, the three Persons in one God and the death of the Second Person of the Blessed Trinity, God-made-man, on the Cross for the salvation of the world. It is also a prayer calling down a blessing upon ourselves. The great mystic, St Teresa of Avila, began her meditation each day with a solemn sign of the cross.

Catholics sometimes make it in a slipshod manner. This is not good. When Bernadette first saw Our Lady at Lourdes, she was about to make the sign of the cross hurriedly before beginning her rosary. But she could not lift her arm. Our Lady turned sideways and showed her how to make the sign slowly and with devotion, touching forehead, breast and shoulders with the cross of her rosary beads. Ever afterwards Bernadette edified her friends by the devout way she made this sign.

The devout Catholic makes it on himself as he rises, before and after his morning prayers, before and after his meals and again at his night prayers and as he blesses himself with Holy Water on entering and leaving a church. Many make it as a prayer when they sense a danger, or when they begin a journey. In public it is a profession of faith as well as a prayer.

BLESSINGS

The Church uses the sign of the cross in all her blessings. The priest makes it many times during the Mass, over his own person, over the book, the incense, the bread and wine and the Blessed Sacrament. He makes it over objects and people in the administration of all the sacraments.

So the whole of life is dedicated to God with the sign of the Cross that wrought our salvation, and in the name of the three Persons in one God.

MONEY

Money plays a very prominent part in the Catholic Religion. The priest often mentions it from the pulpit and sometimes in vigorous language. Hardly has the money offered at the door stopped tinkling when the Offertory collection begins, and that is only just finished when the Post-Communion collection starts. Then there are whistdrives, jumble sales and raffles. On top of these, parish football pools may be an embarrassment to one trained in a Protestant notion of gambling.

NECESSARY

It is all necessary. The expenses of a parish are enormous. There are no “livings” in the Catholic Church, no ancient endowments, central funds or State aid, in this country at least, on which to rely. Moneys for salaries and the upkeep of the church, house and property must come from collections taken at the Offertory of the Mass. The priests” house is really flats for two or three bachelors and separate apartments for housekeeper and maid. It is expensive. Most parishes have a large debt on the church to pay off and the interest to find yearly. Nearly all have two schools to maintain, and some as many as four. Very many have to build one or two schools, receiving inadequate financial support from the Government. With such demands on them and no sources of revenue outside the parish, the parish priests cannot be fastidious about appeals for money.

DESIRABLE

But it is desirable that money should play a prominent part in the life of the parish. The collection is not merely the obtaining of money to meet the bills. It is a practical way in which the Christian can identify himself with the sacrifice offered on the altar. The man gives the price of a short period of his week’s labour, the woman the price of a loaf or a small object of clothing for her children, the young the price of a simple pleasure. That is a proof of their love.

There is a close connection between the money and the Mass. It builds the church and maintains it, provides the vestments, chalice, bread and wine and supports the priest. the giving of it is an important act of religion, and even if a parish had no financial worries, a collection would still be desirable. Money should be integrated with the service of God. It is sanctimonious to be disgusted at the jingling of coins during Mass.

THE MASS STIPEND

This is a way of identifying oneself even more intimately with the Sacrifice. A free offering is made to the priest on the occasion of his agreeing to offer Mass for the special intention of the donor. The money does not buy the Mass. It is a gift to the priest for his support. St Paulsays, “You know surely that those who do the temple’s work live on the temple’s revenues; that those who preside at the altar share the altar’s offerings” (1 Cor. 9 : 13, Knox translation).

The Church encourages the giving of stipends, and makes precise laws about it, which it is not our purpose to study here. She wants the people to give something of themselves that they might identify themselves more intimately with the Sacrifice of the mass and obtain its fruits in a special way. When St Ignatius was founding the Society of Jesus, he asked permission of the Pope to forbid his priests to receive Mass stipends. Permission was refused. The stipend had to be given, even though the members of the Society could be forbidden to keep it. The people were not to be denied the opportunity of obtaining the special fruits of the Mass enjoyed by the one who offers the stipend.

The Church then is uninhibited in her appeals for money. She is not ashamed of asking for ‘filthy lucre.’ She cheerfully demands that men should give that honest money which they have earned in their daily toil. In this she is true to the spirit of apostolic times. St Paul makes several references to collections made among the congregations he founded. He it is who says, “God loves a cheerful giver” (2 Cor.).

There are many other devout practices permitted or encouraged by the Church. These seven are universal, and are a normal part of Catholic life. That is not to say that they are necessary for salvation. It is possible to become a saint without wearing a medal or lighting a candle before a shrine. The Church offers us a rich variety of devotions and practices from which each soul may choose that which pleases it. To attempt to practice them all might prove wearisome. To neglect them all would be to deprive the soul of precious opportunities of spiritual refreshment and nourishment.

********

Suggestions On Saying The Rosary

WITHOUT DISTRACTIONS

BY SISTER M. EMMANUEL, O.S.B

INDEX

FOREWORD

These pages are addressed above all to persons who suffer from distractions. But if they thought they were meant to be used when actually saying the Rosary, they might well remark that the remedy is much worse than the disease.

No! These thoughts are suggested by way of a preparation for saying the Rosary, to be used at spiritual reading time, or on visits to the Blessed Sacrament, just a page or two at a time.

They are merely suggestions. One’s own thoughts are best for each soul, no doubt, but a helpful train of thought may be suggested by another.

Do not let these plans or methods compete with one another in your mind. Select whichever of them you prefer and try it as long as it helps. Then you may abandon it and try another as far as you find it helpful!

May Our Lady bless this small effort in her honour!

I -A STORY

The Blessed Mary of Agreda, a Spanish Franciscan Abbess of the 17th century, once had this vision. She saw that after the death of Jesus, the infernal spirits held a conclave. Lucifer addressed them, saying: “Comrades, you see how we have lost our empire over man. We have been overthrown by the Death of the Man-God on the Cross, and now lie crushed under the heel of His Mother. How shall we ever get back our power over men ? Now that they have before them the example of the God Incarnate, they will be drawn to Him, fulfil His commands, make use of His Sacraments, and have their eyes opened as to the true worth of our counsels and allurements. Poverty, shame, and pain will lose their horrors in their eyes. How shall we continue to make them love riches, which have been such a splendid bait for us hitherto? Let us take heart, however; surely all is not lost. Let us devise some plan to outwit the Enemy, God, and that almost more dangerous foe, His Mother.”

One of the minions replied: “What you have said is true as far as it goes. But man’s nature has not changed. It is just as strongly as ever drawn to pleasures, honours and riches. If men do not reflect on the example of Christ, the cull of their nature will inevitably reassert itself. What we must do is to make them forget. Let us see what we can give them to think about besides the Man-God. Once drive Him out of their minds and they will be in our power just as before.”

There was no lack of ideas, plans and projects among the satanic band. Some planned to keep idolatry and superstition ruling the world; others to bring in schisms, heresies, revolts of every kind against the Church. Others would make it their business to tempt parents to send children to godless schools, to do all they could to destroy piety and spirituality. Some planned to keep men away from the Sacraments, by putting the idea out of their mind, and blinding them to the need of grace. Others would blot out from the mind of man the memory of Jesus and Mary, by the attractions of the world, and the flesh, by theatres, shows and novels, politics, new theories and ideologies, and secret societies. Thus they would so fill men’s minds with the bewitchment of the trifling that they would forget and disbelieve in hell, cease to believe in a future life at all, and in short be entirely wrapped up in the world. This explains how men are led into the base and senseless superstitions rife among pagans, worshipping beasts and reptiles and all the vile and cruel rites practised in ancient religions. Men alone could not have devised such vile savageries.

We have only to look round to see how successful these wiles of Satan have been and are even at this present day.

By the Rosary, men are continually led back to Jesus and Mary. In the Joyful Mysteries, the Incarnation is kept before them; in the Sorrowful, the Redemption; in the Glorious, Sanctification and the rewards of the life to come. One who says the Rosary regularly and frequently can never have Jesus and Mary far from his thoughts. But to do this, it is not enough merely to name each Mystery, though this in itself is a very great good; the naming of them so frequently undoubtedly impresses the idea on the mind. But dreaming away the decades after the naming of them will not carry us far. What can we do to bring home to ourselves the rich treasures and graces of these Mysteries? A few skeleton thoughts are here suggested.

II-SUGGESTIONS ON SAYING THE ROSARY

As October comes round each year, and we visualise the Rosary Benedictions, some of us have mixed feelings. Some say they would so much rather say the Rosary to themselves. Others confess that they always have a difficulty in saying the Rosary. It is the fact of dividing the attention between two things-the words of the Our Father and Hail Mary and the meditation on the Mysteries-that worries them, they say. Those who have this difficulty are those who find the public recitation distracting, though all are convinced that it is a devotion which must give great glory to God when the whole Catholic world unites in this public act of homage to Jesus and Mary.

Thinking over this difficulty which I have so often heard of, and indeed experienced personally, an idea came to me which some have found a help.

I-MAKE EACH HAIL MARY A MINIATURE MEDITATION

When you say the words “The Annunciation,” a picture of the scene flashes across the mind’s eye; no matter how vague, it is there. You see a little bare room, lighted by a lamp, Our Lady kneeling absorbed in prayer. A flash of light, the Angel is there-you hear his salutation and listen to Our Lady’s answer. But we all know that this picturing of a Gospel scene is only the prelude to any contemplation of a mystery. It is only a step on the way to prayer. After looking and listening, we want to pray about our mental picture, or rather, of course, about the Mystery. What better prayer than the Hail Mary said in the very setting where it was first heard, in the presence of Our Lady and the Angel. It lives and breathes then with new meaning, and nothing we could think of saying could be so appropriate. The Incarnation comes home to us at each word.

Then we think of ourselves and our needs and petitions. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us, etc., expresses all we could desire. It is easy enough to say one Hail Mary with this thought, so let us think we only have one Hail Mary to say! It is the thought of having so many to say that really worries and wearies us. Just think of the words as the fitting conclusion to our little mental picture, our short meditation, and the decade is quickly gone through, if we think we have only one Hail Mary to say all the time.

Then the Visitation. Here again, when we instinctively behold the meeting of the cousins, and listen to their words, we are in the very birthplace of the Hail Mary, for Elizabeth says: “Blessed art thou among women and blessed is the fruit of thy womb.” We may note, too, that when Mary in her Magnificat says “All generations shall call me blessed,” she is just taking up Elizabeth’s greeting and answering it. And in this very moment, we are fulfilling that prophecy ourselves; we are calling Our Lady Blessed. This could well fill our thoughts for the space of one Hail Mary, and that is all we need to think of at a time.

Then the Birth of Our Lord. We all kneel before the Crib at Christmas, and surely the Hail Mary is the very prayer made for that scene. We have Mary before us, and the Blessed Fruit of her womb; how can we think of anything else than salute the two Objects of our love, to bless and praise and thank them, and to beg Our Lady’s prayers. One Hail Mary is soon said thus, and that is all we aim at.

The Presentation picture equally calls for the words of the Hail Mary. We can almost imagine holy Simeon saying it himself, for he must have said its equivalent. He must have saluted Our Lady by some words of respectful greeting and welcome, beyond those recorded. But now we have the element of sorrow added: the Shadow of the Cross, which will be before us in all its stark reality in the coming Sorrowful Mysteries. So now we put another element, that of loving compassion, into our Hail Mary; and “Blessed is the Fruit of thy womb, Jesus.” Now when we say “Holy Mary, Mother of God,” we also think of her as the Mother of Our Saviour, who is to die for us. The Hail Mary is soon said with such thoughts.

The Finding in the Temple continues the note of sorrow. It foreshadows the desolation of Mary on Calvary, and ‘it the Holy Sepulchre; we put sympathy and compassion into our Hail Mary as well as love and joy. But when we picture Mary finding Jesus, our Hail Mary has a new joy added to our salutation, and the thought of Mary’s blessedness adds reality to our “Blessed art thou.” At “Holy Mary . . . pray for us,” we may think of moments of sorrow and loneliness in our own lives, times of aridity and desolation, and above all of the loneliness of death. And we beg of her to let us share in her joy in recovering her Treasure. As we are only thinking of one Hail Mary, there will be no time for distraction.

II-”ONE HAIL MARY ALL THE TIME”

It may be said: “This is all right for the Joyful Mysteries, but how about the Agony in the Garden, for instance ? Our Lady is not there.”

Let us see. We enter the Garden. When we say the words “Agony in the Garden” we kneel beside Jesus, we watch Him moving to and fro in His anguish of spirit, for we know in mental distress the one thing one cannot do is to be still. We witness His struggle, His sorrow and sadness, we behold the Sweat of Blood, the comforting Angel, we hear His oft repeated prayer “Father, if it be possible, remove this chalice. Not My Will but Thine be done.” Mary is not present to our eyes, it is true, but in a very true sense we may still say: “And the Mother of Jesus was there.” For she is kneeling in her room; she has said farewell to Jesus not long since. He has so often told her all that is coming upon Him; she knows it all beforehand. Her sorrow is indeed all the greater for not being there with Him. How well, then, can we say Hail Mary, our hearts being full of compassion for the Mother and Son in this “Passion of His Sacred Heart,” which has well been called “The Holy of Holies of the Passion.” Her Son is now doing and suffering that for which He became her Son. He is redeeming us, and she is His helpmate; she too wills as He wills it. Now more than ever is she “blessed among women,” the Mother of the Saviour of the human race, fighting His lone battle of the spirit. In her mind’s eye she sees it all, in her heart she sweats blood. Surely “the Mother of Jesus was there.”

Take the scourging. Mary knows well that this is to come upon Jesus. This terrible incident of the Passion was so much before Our Lord’s mind that He had always mentioned it when speaking beforehand of His Passion. “The Son of Man shall be mocked and scourged.” “I am prepared for scourges . . . My Sorrow is always before me,” said the Prophet in His name, centuries before. What He knew about His Passion, Mary knew. Many a time had she shuddered and grown faint in spirit at the forethought of this appalling scene. Besides, it is possible, and even probable, that from some distant part of the palace of Pilate she could actually behold the scourging. Well can we now say our Hail Mary, then, though it rends our hearts to picture a Mother beholding such a sight as this shameful torture of her Beloved, the Immaculate All-Holy One! No one could see a human being cruelly scourged without being turned sick at heart and horrified. We can hardly bear to think of Mary in connection with this Mystery, but we must. “And the Mother of Jesus was there.” It was her Jesus. Oh, how earnestly we beg of her to pray for us now, that we may not suffer the like in hell, for this Mystery teaches us the malice of sin, perhaps more than any other part of Our Lord’s Passion.

The Crowning with Thorns, too: Mary knew that this was to be. It was another item of the Passion which Our Lord had always singled out for special mention. “The Son of Man shall be mocked.” How often, in His childhood, must Mary not have thought, when she gazed on the beauty of her Child’s features, and His pure, noble brow, of those cruel thorns one day to disfigure it. By our Hail Mary now let us console our Mother. More than ever at this dread moment is she full of grace, and blessed among women, when she in spirit bore with Jesus this inhuman, unspeakable torture. She knows the share that I had in it, how much of it was for me. “And the Mother of Jesus was there.” Hail Mary!

At the Fourth Sorrowful Mystery there is no difficulty in connecting Mary with the Carrying of the Cross, for we recall the Fourth Station of the Cross when Jesus was met by His Blessed Mother on His way to Calvary, and from this we know she will never be far off till the very end. We can think of her as present at each Station of the Cross.

In the Crucifixion, too, she has her official place by the Cross, and surely if ever our petition for our intercession in the “Holy Mary” would be heard, it would be at the Foot of the Cross, where she brought us forth in anguish and heard the words “Behold thy Mother,” and where she, with her Son, is paying the price for our precious souls.

In all the Glorious Mysteries, Mary is prominent in our thought. We believe that Our Lord in the glory of His Resurrection was first made manifest to her. When we assist in spirit at that glorious meeting, what more suitable greeting of our Mother than the Hail Mary ? “The Lord is with thee, blessed art thou among women,” has now a new and final meaning that it never had before. All the ‘words of the Angelical Salutation are, as it were, confirmed and glorified in this Mystery of the Resurrection.

At the Ascension we can all picture what Mary’s part must have been in the triumph of her Son; what, too, her loneliness and desolation as the cloud hid Him from her view. All this is easy to weave into one Hail Mary.

At the Descent of the Holy Ghost, we know from the Gospel how the chief part of the preparation of the disciples for receiving the Holy Ghost was the presence and inspiration of Mary. For it was “With Mary the Mother of Jesus” that they spent the time in prayer for the Great Promise, and soon the mighty Wind rushed in on them, and they received the Pentecostal Spirit in all His fullness. “Hail Mary, full of grace and of the Holy Ghost.”

In the last two Glorious Mysteries, the Hail Mary belongs entirely to Our Lady, for these are her Mysteries. More than ever in them is she seen to be full of grace, and super- eminently “Blessed” and happy beyond thought, in her glorious triumph and rewards of glory. “The Lord is with her” indeed in all plentitude for ever and ever. As the Mediatrix of all graces to mankind, she sits at the King’s Right Hand, for ever more to receive all the Hail Marys of all Rosaries ever to be said over all the world, and as the VIRGO POTENS to reward and answer them. One Hail Mary said in each of these scenes is surely most easy, watching Our Lady, the meekest, humblest and most modest of creatures, now in her heavenly triumphs. And after all our decade is “one Hail Mary all the time.”

Very soon in this way we should get the habit of fitting the words to the Mystery, though just at first it may seem laboured. If, when we are pressed for time, we were to say a little Rosary of just fifteen Hail Marys, giving each one to each Mystery, it is a help to attaining to recollection and to the habit of fitting the Hail Mary to the Mysteries, for those who have this attraction. But it is not in any way necessary to think of the words; it is enough to think of the same Mystery in some way, however vague.

III-ONE THOUGHT FOR EACH DECADE

Some I have known who are satisfied with one great, comprehensive thought connected with each Mystery, and these find that letting their minds dwell just on that one thought for each Mystery is enough to enable them to say the Rosary with devotion, for a lifetime. For there are moments when the Holy Ghost makes some one thought strike the mind, and so full of light and depth, that it seems a lifetime is not too much to devote to it. “Mary kept all these words , pondering them in her heart.” Evidently that was Our Lady’s way.

People who use this method recall the truth which strikes them at the beginning of each decade and just quietly keep it before them all the time, without paying particular attention to the words of the Hail Mary.

In the JOYFUL MYSTERIES, one may, for instance, concentrate on the Incarnation; in the Sorrowful, on the Redemption; in the Glorious, on Sanctification and Glorification.

In the Annunciation, we could take the idea of Thanksgiving and keep the scene in our minds with this one thought while saying all the ten Hail Marys. Certainly such an act could never be full, deep, or intense enough, for it will last us throughout eternity. It is through Our Lord made Man that we shall have entered the enjoyment of God, and this will form the ground of our joyful praise throughout Eternity. Again, it is through the Incarnation that we enjoy God here below, that we possess Him in Holy Communion and in the Blessed Sacrament, and all this comes to us through Mary, through her FIAT in the Annunciation. New every morning is this mercy of God. new every time we call to mind the Annunciation, should be our thanks for it.

In the Visitation,’ we have the thought of Our Lady as the Mother of Divine Grace-that gift which comes to us through the God-Man, and brings His very life into the depths of our soul. It was to win grace for us that He died on the Cross. In this Mystery we see the grace given through Mary, by her means. She receives Jesus, and straightaway carries Him to others and the Baptist is sanctified in his Mother’s womb, at the very sound of her voice. The thought, then, of Mary as the first distributrix of grace, the Mother of Divine Grace, is enough for the Decade of the Visitation.

In the Birth of Our Lord, we have the great Gift actually given to us by Mary. We see, hear, handle Jesus for ourselves. Up to now,. only Mary had Him, as the God-Man. In this Mystery He first becomes our own, to do as we like with, to look upon, to love, to caress, to handle, to petition for graces, to enjoy as our Beloved, our own Brother-Man. All this can be thought of too with reference to Communion.

In the Presentation we have the great thought that now for the first time God is offered to God, and God receives an offering worthy of Himself. And it is Mary who offers this great gift. “We give thee thanks for thy great glory.”

In the Finding in the Temple, there is the idea of the loss of Jesus by sin, an evil which must be avoided beyond all others. But when lost, Jesus lets Himself be found, and lest we should despair when we do lose Him, He has let His Mother suffer this terrible pain of loss of Himself. She teaches us, too, where to find Him, in the Temple; that is for us, in the Blessed Sacrament, in His Liturgy and Ceremonies. Seek Jesus in Mass and Communion; there we know we have Him, no matter what we may feel.

Another thought we may dwell upon in the Finding in the Temple is the supreme claim of God upon us for our service. Our Lord shows us here that He would let nothing stand in the way of His complete dedication to His Father’s glory. And also that He willed to show to all men that He was recognised by Him publicly.

In the SORROWFUL MYSTERIES we behold Jesus doing that for which He became Man, redeeming us. In each of these Mysteries we find a help for all our own difficulties, “In all these things we overcome for the sake of Him who hath loved us” and who has shown us here how to overcome.

In the Agony we see Him overcome by prayer. What a lesson! In all our agonies, our combats, we too can always gain the victory by prayer, even if were only, as He did, to repeat the same prayer.

In the Scourging, He overcomes our sensuality and temptation to inordinate pleasure by the most intense suffering. If such sins have cost Jesus this, can we continue to be easy-going and self-indulgent ?

In the Crowning with Thorns, we have the lesson of endurance to insults, injuries, mockeries, of fighting against false shame and the fear of losing the good opinion of others. All have to suffer, one way or another at some time, in their reputation. We all know how hard it is, even in a small thing, that people should have a wrong opinion of us, or how hard it is to meet opposition and mockery in our efforts to do good. Jesus bore the Crowning with Thorns to help us in such trials. Or we may think how in this Mystery Our Lord expiated the sins committed by the head, the brain, or by those in authority over others.

Or we may contemplate the. Mystery of Christ’s Kingship, for here alone He was crowned and acknowledged King on earth, and we own His Kingship when we embrace hardship and humiliation in His service. These were the marks of His Kingship here below.

In the Carrying of the Cross, we are taught not to fear suffering but to look on it as the true mark of the follower of Christ. A daily reminder of this truth is more than necessary, for as the Imitation says: “All praise patience, but how few there are who desire to suffer.” “It is not after the way of man . . . to love the cross.” Only the example of Jesus can make the Cross lovable. So it is not much to think of the love of the Cross for the space of ten Hail Marys.

In the Crucifixion, we have Love’s Gift of itself to the last limit. There is no more that Jesus can give. The lesson of Love even to laying down one’s life for the Beloved is a thought great enough to occupy us for the space of ten Hail Marys. Or we may take one of the Seven Last Words and dwell upon it. “It is consummated,” for instance. He has done all, given all; are we doing all that God asks in our daily life ?

In the GLORIOUS MYSTERIES we may choose thoughts of hope, joy and love-our glorification, our eternal rewards are what are now in view. We have seen Jesus and His Mother nearing their glory by their sufferings for us, and now we contemplate them entering into the joy of their Lord, which shall surely be ours one day, if we faithfully follow the lessons of the Joyful and Sorrowful Mysteries.

In the Resurrection we have the confirmation of our faith. Jesus has risen again, therefore He is true God, and true Man. Our faith rests on solid bedrock, a plain tangible fact of history, recorded by authentic and incontestable witnesses: we rejoice in His triumph, we walk in newness of life. Ours is the Church of the Resurrection. By this Mystery we receive the Christian, supernatural life. The Resurrection is the Foundation of our Faith.

In the Ascension, we ourselves actually share in the triumph He has won for us. At last, at last, He comes into His own, and He tellls us: “I go to prepare a place for you, that where I am, you also may be.” Hearts on high! then Sursum corda! Seek the things that are above, not the things that are on the earth.

In the Descent of the Holy Ghost, we have the Gift which is to bring us where Jesus has gone before us. In this Promise of the Father, we have all things; we have grace and consolation and light, and power to fulfil the commands of Jesus, of the Holy Ghost, who is to bring to our minds all that Jesus has taught us. If He did not teach within, in vain should we hear the words of Jesus. Jesus gives Him to us for our Comforter, our Teacher, our Sweetness, our Refreshment, the Living Water to quench our soul’s thirst, the Fire to warm our cold, tepid souls.

In the Assumption and Crowning of Mary our Mother, we see the First Fruits of the Redemption, for here, one of ourselves, a true and real sister, our own Mother, has entered body and soul into the joy of Our Lord. Now is she the All-Powerful Virgin, the Sovereign Lady of Heaven and earth, the Mediatrix of all graces to men. She is there in her own home before us, with the power to do all things, all power is given to her in heaven and on earth, as the King’s Mother, seated in glory at His Right Hand. Her greatness is to be our Mother of Mercy. She is Queen, indeed, but before all else she is our Mother. Jesus points to her as He leaves the earth: “Behold your Mother.” We have beheld her, we have contemplated her in her lowliness, in her sufferings, and now for evermore we are to behold her in her glory, where she never ceases to be our loving Mother, the Refuge of sinners, the Consoler of the afflicted, the Mediatrix of all graces to mankind, the Queen of peace. Thus does Jesus reward His faithful. Our turn will come to share her glory.

IV.-”AND THE MOTHER OF JESUS WAS THERE “

We may say the whole fifteen decades with but this one thought in view in each of them: “The Mother of Jesus was there.” Why was she there? What was her special share in each Mystery? That one thought will be more than enough to claim our attention during the ten Hail Marys.

JOYFUL MYSTERIES

1. The Annunciation: “The Mother of Jesus was there.” She was not yet His Mother, it is true, but she is the chief actor in this scene, humanly speaking. In the great drama of our Redemption, this is the first great act. What she did here was to give her consent to God’s Plan to say “FIAT.” “Be it done unto me according to thy word.” Yes, the Mother of Jesus was there, and there it was that she agreed to do her share in our salvation. Well was it indeed for us that the Mother of Jesus was there!

2. The Visitation: “The Mother of Jesus was there.” She was there to carry grace to man. She had within her the Source of all grace, and through her now, was grace to be visibly poured out on man, in the sanctification of St. John the Baptist. She was there, too, to sing her song of praise which echoes down the centuries and which all the children of Mary for ever make their own, and read therein the picture of their Mother’s soul: “The Mother of Jesus was there.”

3. The Birth of Our Lord: “The Mother of Jesus was there.” Again is she the chief actor in the drama; she is there to give us Jesus, and now we see her actually giving to us Jesus, our Lord and Saviour. The word was made Flesh and dwelt amongst us. The Child is with Mary His Mother. One cannot be thought of without the other, at least in this Mystery. Where Jesus is, Mary is, where Mary is, Jesus is. “The Mother of Jesus was there.”

4. The Presentation in the Temple: “The Mother of Jesus was there” to offer her Child to God. Then was God first offered to God. She was there to hear the prophecy of woe which was to engulf her and her Child, but all was for the salvation of Israel, and she welcomed all of it, though her heart was pierced by the sword. “The Mother of Jesus was there.”

5. The Finding in the Temple: “The Mother of Jesus was there.” She was there to seek her lost Child, she was there to find Him. She was there to suffer this desolation and darkness that she might have some faint notion of the plight of sinners who lose their God, of their darkness, loneliness, feebleness, terror, disgust, despair. If she had not suffered this, as far as a sinless soul could, she might not have been able to realise as she now does what the loss of God is to a sinner. The Mother of God was there.’

SORROWFUL MYSTERIES

1. The Agony in the Garden : “The Mother of Jesus was there.” She was certainly there in mind and spirit, if not in body. She had no share in causing any part of this Agony, but she knew well what I shall probably never know, she knew what share I had in it. She sees and feels each separate pang that my particular ingratitude, indifference, negligence, sin, gave Jesus. We all need something of the vision of Mary if we would penetrate in any degree into this Holy of Holies of the Passion. The Passion especially of the Sacred Heart of Jesus, the God-Man, none but His Mother could fathom it. “And the Mother of Jesus was there.”

2. The Scourging at the Pillar : “And the Mother of Jesus was there.” It is considered probable that Mary really did witness this dreadful scene from some distant corner of the Praetorium. To our eyes it is appalling, unbearable, sickening, horrible beyond words, what must it have been to hers? . . .

But again here she alone knows all the inwardness of it, she knows my share in it, which is something I can never know, and yet she bears no grudge against me; she only longs unspeakably that I should not let it be in vain. It is well indeed for me that “The Mother of Jesus was there,” for it only makes my soul more precious in her sight.

3. The Crowning with thorns : “ And the Mother of Jesus was there.” If not bodily present, she certainly knew all that was going on, for she had known it long years before, she understood it all, she knew every hidden reason and cause for it. Let me ask her to teach me all the lessons contained in it. How can I ever make: up to Jesus and to her for all this pain and shame? She will teach me, for “The Mother of Jesus was there.”

4. The Carrying of the Cross: “And the Mother of Jesus was there.” Every time we make the Stations of of the Cross we see her there; she meets her Son on the Way of Sorrows, she follows Him as closely as she can, and at the very last scene, she openly stands by Him till the end. “The Mother of Jesus was there.”

5. The Crucifixion : “ And the Mother of Jesus was there.” The cruel Jews have not denied her this last act of service to her Beloved; no doubt there is no compassion in their allowing it, for they would gladly add to the Saviour’s pain and hers by her presence there. But she is there by the express will of God, as it were, officially; she has a duty to perform, she is assisting in the work of Redemption by her free offering of her Son. It was for this oblation that she bore Him.

On Calvary, too, she becomes the Mother of all Christians, they are there brought forth in pain and travail. “Behold Thy Mother.” There we must truly become her children, the children of her pain. Never let us doubt or mistrust her mercy, for never can she forget that it was by Jesus Crucified that she became our Mother. “The Mother of Jesus was there.” She was there when Jesus was taken down from the Cross, she was there when they laid Him in the tomb.

GLORIOUS MYSTERIES

1. The Resurrection: “The Mother of Jesus was there.” We know not how soon after the Resurrection Jesus showed Himself to His Mother, but we may be sure that it was at once. Was it not her right to share first of all in the triumph of her Son, when she had so faithfully stood by Him in His Death Agony? This meeting is the secret of the Mother and the Son. But we may well believe that in all this time after the Resurrection Jesus was actually present with her. We are not told of any meetings with her though the other Apparitions are given in detail. For Mary needed not an Apparition, her faith in the Resurrection was absolute, it had never been shaken. All the other Apparitions were to doubting, very human creatures, just like ourselves. Mary is immeasurably above all this. She knew He had risen, she had known He would rise, her faith needed no vision, but no doubt He gave her this grace of His Presence in some super. human way, beyond our powers to understand. We are certain that there was a definite contact between Mother and Son, but how or when we know not.

2. The Ascension : “And the Mother of Jesus was there.” She was there to share her Son’s final triumph. She was there to bid Him farewell, to be a Mother and a Guide to those He left behind, she was there with a heart full of joy, with a heart full of sorrow. She was there for our sake as much as for His. If she has gone away with her Son, how could the Apostles have borne this crowning desolation?

3. The Descent of the Holy Ghost. We know that the Apostles continued in prayer and retreat “with Mary, the Mother of Jesus.” She was their Light, their Teacher, their Guide in this great novena of the Church, a novena ordered by Christ Himself in preparation for the coming of the Holy Ghost, she was there to superintend and organise the first retreat ever made in the Church. She is still always there to teach us how to pray and prepare for the Holy Ghost. And as before her Divine Motherhood in the Incarnation, she was overshadowed by the Holy Ghost, so now, before she becomes the Mother of the Infant Church, which was born on Pentecost Day, a new overshadowing of the Holy Ghost comes upon her. “The Mother of Jesus was there” in order to be enabled to do her work for the Church, as its Mother, for years yet to come.

4. The Assumption: Now is “the Mother of Jesus there,” in order to receive from her Son the reward for all her faithful service. He takes her body and soul into heaven, so that her reward shall include every part of her being. He cannot wait to glorify her completely.

5. The Crowning of Our Lady in heaven. She receives her reward of glory, she is seated for ever more at the King’s Right Hand, and is made the Sovereign Lady of heaven and earth. All glory, all power is given to her, she is solemnly installed as the Mediatrix of all graces to the subjects of her Son, all His treasures are hers to distribute as she wills. If it were not so, how explain that, while ever since Jesus became Man in her womb, in everything that concerned Him, as we have seen, “The Mother of Jesus was there,” taking an active share in it all, she now should cease suddenly to have any executive power in the Church and just reign passively in Heaven, receiving homage ? It would be inconsistent, her work at each stage of the work of Jesus was quite definite, and so it is now; it is now the time to distribute the fruits of the Redemption and that is her task in Heaven, given to her, as is believed, at her Coronation. Each time, each season of life, has its appointed task, that is the task of Mary’s life as Queen of Heaven. Only now has she come into her own. When Jesus her Son has received from His Father His power and glory and kingdom, now does His Mother receive her queendom.

Now is the time of her glory and honour and power. Now she can do all she wills, all He wills; that is her peculiar reward. She is our Advocate, our Mediatrix, our Hope, our Mother, the Queen of Angels and of all the Saints, Queen of the Church Triumphant, Militant and Suffering, she is the Help of Christians. “The Mother of Jesus is there,” in heaven, to use her power for all of us. Queen of Peace, give us peace.

V.-THE “HAIL MARY” IN ASPIRATIONS

Some are helped by fixing the attention on one of the phrases of the Hail Mary, which they keep before them, during the whole decade applying that one phrase to the Mystery they are contemplating. In the next Mystery they take another phrase and so on, through all the fifteen Mysteries.

For the Annunciation, for instance, we might concentrate on the words “Hail Mary,” which are such an integral party to this mystery. No can say these words without some vague mental picture of the Angel saluting Mary.

“Hail” is a salutation or greeting, a formula of well- wishing. Some have interpreted the Latin “AVE” as “ a vae” or “absque vae,” “without woe,” “far from thee be woe,” the particle “a” being separate in meaning. A good wish, expressed, as it were, negatively, a kind of “deliver us from evil” or rather “be thou delivered from evil.” We shall find a long and prayerful reflection on the “Ave” thus envisaged, in “THE MIRROR OF THE BLESSED VIRGIN,” attributed to St. Bonaventure, but in reality the work of Conrad of Saxony. The writer enumerates all the kinds of woe or misfortune, from which Mary is free, but which fall to the lot of other human beings.

“Hail” also means “grace be to thee.” We may think of “Hail,” as meaning all the greetings of love and wellwishing we ourselves would wish to offer to our Blessed Mother. In any case it means a desire that God may favour the one saluted. It is a word of deep respect and veneration.

Then the holy name of Mary can be thought of, with its various supposed meanings of Lady, Light-Giver, bitter Sea. In the same book “Mirror of the Blessed Virgin Mary,” there are beautiful pages on the meaning of the name Mary.

During the Visitation Mystery decade, the phrase to concentrate on is “full of grace.” This is in every way appropriate to the Visitation, which is called by many authors “The Feast of Graces.” For in it Our Lady first exercised her prerogative of “Mother of Divine Grace,” bringing by her presence and that of Jesus within her, the gift of sanctifying grace to St. John the Baptist; and also she was the bringer of grace to St. Elizabeth. Her Visitation was a source of grace to all who shared in it.

For the Nativity decade “ The Lord is with thee” obviously expresses the heart of the Mystery-”EMMANUEL,” God with us. “The Word was made Flesh and dwelt amongst us.” All fits in with “the Lord is with thee.”

For the Presentation decade, “Blessed art thou among women” is a very suitable thought, for here Mary ,s shown as the Mother of the Redeemer, who is to redeem us by sufferings in which she is to share, she is blessed in being the one woman chosen to bring about the Redemption. Bringing us “Redemption” makes her Blessed among women.

For the Finding in the Temple, “Blessed is the Fruit of thy womb Jesus.” Here we see at first by contrast what it was to Mary to lose Him who was all her blessedness, all her joy. We can measure her Blessedness by the woe it was to lose Him. And what her joy was when Jesus the Blessed Fruit of her womb, her glory, her joy, her blessedness was restored to her.

For the Agony in the Garden, then, we have “Holy Mary.” She is the one of all mankind for whom Our Lord did not have to suffer His Agony; though she shared in the Fruits of the Redemption as do all of us, there was no sin of hers to add to Our Lord’s dread foresight of all men’s sins.

In that terrible hour she was still “all fair,” all holy, Holy Mary, the one stainless, sinless one, and we may think that this was part of the consoling angel’s message to Our Lord in His Agony.

“Mother of God” will be our aspiration to think of during the Scourging. For it was truly GOD who suffered this unspeakable Agony and shame, and what then must it have been to have been Mother of God? Only she was able to measure as far as the human mind may the dignity of the Divine Victim, and the unutterable insult thus offered to Him.

For the Crowning with Thorns, we have, “Pray for us sinners.” We who caused Our Lord this unimaginable torment are ourselves sinners, the thorns are our sins, and in the presence of the Divine Mother and her Son, the Victim suffering for our sins, we can only beg her mercy and her intercession and resolve to follow Him by patience.

For the Carrying of the Cross, we may very appropriately think of the words “Pray for us sinners now,” when it is actually our own turn to walk the Way of the Cross after Jesus, taking up our daily Cross and following Him. For thus only shall we be worthy of Him as He Himself tells us. May the Faithful Virgin make us faithful Cross-bearers now. It is indeed “now” that we need Mary’s prayers that we may be true followers of her Son on the royal road of the Cross.

For the Crucifixion, “and at the hour of our death,” What better thought for us when gazing on our Crucified Lord than to pray for grace for our own death? Listen to His Words from the Cross: “Behold thy Mother,” and beg her to stand by our deathbed as she stood by the dread deathbed of Jesus. Listen to His last word, and make it our own: “Father, into Thy hands I commend my spirit.” We are told by the holy contemplative Mary of Agreda that these words were also indeed Our Lord’s last words.

For the Glorious Mysteries said according to this method, we once more begin the Hail Mary, and at the Resurrection we concentrate on the words “Hail Mary.” At this transcendent, supreme moment of our Mother’s life, we would salute her with all the love and humility of our hearts, rejoicing with her that the course has been run, the victory won by that Way of Sorrows, of that battle with hell, which was inaugurated at the “Hail Mary” of the Incarnation. The great deed of Redemption was thus enclosed between two Hail Marys. And what must have been Our Lord’s own Hail Mary to His Mother at the first meeting with her, the glorious first-fruits of His Redemption, on the Resurrection Morning?

For the Ascension “full of grace” is a fitting salutation to Mary, the Mother of Divine Grace, when she beholds her Son, the Source of all grace to us, leaving her and going to enjoy His triumph as Man in our name in the heaven of heavens. He came to bring us grace, and He leaves her with us, the channel through whom He means ever more to distribute His grace to us men, through Mary, the Mediatrix of all graces.

For the Descent of the Holy Ghost, “the Lord is with thee” is a most suitable phrase to think upon. For the Lord and Life-Giver, the Holy Ghost, has come at her prayer. They were all united in prayer “with Mary the Mother of Jesus.” This shows that her prayer was the centre, the fire, the hearth at which the other expectant souls kindled their ardent desires and petitions. She will receive a fuller measure of graces and gifts than ever before, full of grace though she is, “full and overfull.” Full for herself, and overfull for our sakes, as a Father of the Church has said, that she may pour out on us of her overfullness.

For the Assumption well may we repeat over and over again “Blessed art thou among women and blessed is the Fruit of thy womb, Jesus.” For now is the hour of her supreme blessedness, when she is for ever, in body and soul, united to her Divine Son, and sharing in that supreme Blessedness of His in the fullest measure possible to any human being.

And for her glorious Coronation in Heaven, when formally and solemnly she is enthroned Queen of all Creation and of the Church, with full power to distribute the grace and mercy of Christ to every soul of man, what better prayer can we think of or say than the familiar: “Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death. Amen.” For this is now her official task till the day of doom, to pray for us sinners. Amen. Alleluia.

Nihil Obstat:

Joseph P. Newth,

Censor Theol. Deputatus

Imprimi Potest: @ Ioannes Carolus, Archiep. Dublinen, Hiberniae Primas 16/3/1955

********

Superstition And Credulity

BY D. G. M. JACKSON, M.A

INDEX

FOREWORD

The account of superstitions given in this booklet is derived almost wholly from a short work of the late Rev. Herbert Thurston, S.J., “Superstition,” published in 1933 by the Centenary Press, in the “Standpoints” series. The writer wishes to make due acknowledgment of his indebtedness to the learned author.

CHAPTER I

SUPERSTITION

I suppose there is no word of contempt to which Catholics are more exposed at the present time than that of “superstitious.” To the secular-trained “modern mind” of our age, traditional beliefs and sanctities of all kinds are linked, in thought, with the ideas of “out-worn superstition,” and “discredited dogma.” They are part of the old, pre-scientific order of things from which the more highly civilized peoples have emancipated themselves through the increase of knowledge. The more sensitive, humanistic kind of “modern” may admit that this emancipation has been attained at a certain cost to the beauty and joy of living. He may sigh, romantically, for the time when life was filled with supernatural significance and when a network of ritual observance governed all human activities: when men believed fervently and created a beauty inspired by faith. But he looks back to it as one looks back regretfully to the poetic world of childhood, with its bright magic and fairy lore, from the adult’s “light of common day.” He does not dream that the world of faith might be a reality, any more than the world of faerie, or of pagan myth and legend. And he finds the “mediaevalism” of adult orthodox Christians-above all, of Catholics-who still take all that sort of thing with solemn seriousness, both incomprehensible and exasperating. There are many “moderns,” like the late H. G. Wells, who can hardly believe that the more educated of the Catholic clergy and laity are really sincere about accepting the Faith at all: they imagine them as making all kinds of internal winks, and nods, and reservations; and “swallowing” dogmas by means of “Pickwickian” interpretations of their own, while keeping straight faces for the sake of the simple.

THE IGNORANCE OF SUPERIOR MODERN MINDS

This attitude of “superiority,” however, whether manifest in sympathetic smiles towards the Italian peasant lighting candles before “the Madonna,” or in angry denunciation of the “reactionary” priests who insist on ignoring “science” and asserting mumbo-jumbo in the midst of the march of progress, is nearly always accompanied by a very substantial ignorance of what orthodox Christianity really stands for, and the beliefs on which its practices are really based. One man puts a St. Christopher medal in his car: another puts some “luck-charm” like a Billiken image. It is assumed lightly that the mental processes behind these two actions are much the same, and that both are irrational. The scapular is regarded as a sort of amulet, the Sign of the Cross as a “magic charm”: the cultus of saints, and the belief in miracles, is assimilated to the pagan cultus of local nature-gods, goddesses, and heroes, and the wonder-tales connected with them. False parallels are drawn between the “sacramentalism” of the Faith, in which the physical world becomes a means through which spiritual graces are conveyed to men and the fetishism which attributes secret inherent virtue to certain kinds of natural objects, or places, or symbols. Formal prayers are compared with spells-the priest becomes a sort of enchanter . . . and so on. Because pagans once worshipped Astarte as “Queen of Heaven,” and used the symbol of the moon in images of Isis, therefore Christians who pray to Mary of Nazareth as “Queen of Heaven” and represent her star-crowned, with the moon under her feet, are supposed to be carrying on the same ancient cult. These accidental resemblances are made the basis of all sorts of imaginative speculations about the “evolution of modern religion from antique myth and nature-worship: while the real history of the Faith is ignored, as well as the clear explanation which Catholic teaching provides for the veneration of saints and the relics and images of saints, for the sacramental observances of the Church, and for the authority and power of the priesthood.

The clever people who would take all sorts of pains to make an accurate study of the cults of some pagan tribe or nation which they are describing for purposes of “compare live religion” will write arrant rubbish about the Catholic use of the Rosary, or holy water, or the meaning of liturgical rites and sacred images, without attempting to enlighten themselves concerning what Catholics themselves-or their clergy-have to say about these matters in relation to their particular system of theistic belief.

So much, then, may be said by way of prelude concerning the ideas commonly held by non-Catholic modern people in regard to Catholic “superstition.” But, having pointed out that these ideas are founded, very largely, on ignorance, and on slap-dash judgments based on surface-impressions, it is time for us to discuss the true meaning of “superstition,” and its relation to the “faith” which Our Lord so highly commended-and which the modern world also grossly misunderstands.

RELIGION AND SUPERSTITION

For the Christian, the religious sense is something of the highest worth, opening the mind to the influence of noble ideals: upon it are founded such virtues as loyalty, purity, sincerity, fortitude, fraternal love and reverence for lawful authority. Now, Our Saviour undoubtedly appealed to this instinct when He commended “faith” and enjoined a child-like humility and docility upon His disciples: and, while He certainly did not commend superstition, it may well be suggested that the language He used about “becoming as little children” threw the door wide open to credulity, from which superstition is most likely to be engendered. For the child is not only ready to accept truth “tan faith” from his parents, but to believe in all kinds of myths about fairies and giants and magical doings, and to adopt and invent weird superstitions of his own.

The truth is that the religious sense in fallen man is naturally liable to this abuse and “deviation”; so that wherever the reality of the spiritual order is strongly realized in human communities, the parasite of superstition is likely to be developed. It is not possible, here, to describe in detail the horrid perversions of the religious sense which are a constant feature of the older polytheistic paganism in all lands, both- among savage and sophisticated peoples. They were rampant, as we shall see, in the civilized Empire under whose rule Our Lord Himself was born, and the “problem of superstition” was discussed in the first century B.C. by one of its most eminent thinkers, the great Cicero.

For him “superstition” was a corruption of true religion; an exaggerated “vain fear” of the gods which he contrasted with the “dutiful homage” paid to them by good citizens. The word is similarly understood in later days by St. Augustine, but he, like Cicero, did not attempt to draw the distinction more exactly. It was left to the great Schoolmen, notably St. Thomas Aquinas, to do this. For St. Thomas, superstition errs against true religion “in point of excess,” not by paying too much attention to Divine worship, obviously, since that is not possible; but by paying worship to some wrong object, or in some way in which it ought not to be paid. He goes on to point out that the worship of angels or demons is “superstition,” and that animal sacrifice is, under the New Law’s dispensation now prevailing, to be blamed on similar grounds.

A MODERN DEFINITION

It will be seen, however, that this definition does not correspond to current modern usage. Catholics do not commonly employ the word “superstition” to describe the worship of false gods or their images-they use the term “idolatry”: while the worship of the true God in wrong ways is “heretical” worship. Meanwhile, not only lesser Catholic customs, but the very heart of our religious worship, the Sacrifice of the Mass itself has been described in Protestant official formularies as “superstitious”; not to mention the invocation of the Virgin Mary and the Saints, and prayers for the dead. Finally, modern militant unbelievers-and, in particular, Marxists-do not hesitate to deny the Ciceronian distinction entirely, holding religious faith and superstition to be one and the same thing, in contrast with adherence to the truth of materialistic “science.” In fact, the term of reproach has become a sedative one, whose significance in each case depends on the convictions of the person using it.

We offer two modern definitions of superstition as worthy of attention: (1) In the “Ox-ford New English Dictionary” it is declared to be “unreasoning awe or fear of something unknown, mysterious or imaginary- especially in connection with religion; religious belief or practice founded upon fear or ignorance.” (2) Professor Albert Lehmann introduces the standards of contemporary knowledge and culture into his definition, rendering it both clearer and sounder by doing so. “The word superstition,” in his opinion, “may be applied to any general persuasion which, having no warrant in a recognized religious system, is in conflict with the scientific conception of nature prevalent at the time.”

This means that what is “superstition’ in one period and set of circumstances need not necessarily be so in other conditions. The mediaeval alchemists, those pioneers of science, provide an excellent example of this. To cling , today, to a serious belief in the “philosopher’s stone” as a means of transmuting metals would be indulgence in absurd superstition. It was not so, however, with the Arabs who transmitted their science to Western Europe. Their idea was founded on the theory of a “materia prima” differentiated into substances by its conjunction with the “elements” of Aristotle-earth, air, fire and water. Noting the action of mercury on gold and silver, and that of sulphur on heated iron, they conceived the hope of discovering a refined substance-a “grand Elixir” which would change grosser into more perfect metallic substances. The experiments founded on this theory were, in the strictest sense, “scientific,” therefore; and they laid the foundations of modern chemistry.

Similarly, the revival of astrology which has taken place in our time must be regarded as an outbreak of ignorant superstition. But in the Middle Ages-despite the adverse judgment of St. Augustine in the fourth century -the idea that the stars had an influence over human lives and affairs was very commonly held by educated men, who were influenced, once again, by the Arabic tradition of science derived from Hellenistic Alexandria. It is only in quite modern times that something of the real character of the starry universe has become known, and rendered divinations based on this theory, and the “casting of horoscopes” a palpable absurdity.

If the greater knowledge of our time has discredited alchemy and astrology, it has served to modify, or to remove, the stigma of “superstition” attaching to other beliefs and practices. Scientists-as opposed to pseudoscientific rationalist popularizers-are far less prone than they were fifty years ago to treat with mere contempt the strange and uncanny phenomena of Spiritualism, and the so-called .magical” powers of faiths, witch-doctors, mediums and faith-healers: the evidence for the existence of hidden and mysterious forces which these people use is recognized as too strong to be disregarded, and as meriting serious inquiry. Even the miracles performed by Christian saints and in our own “holy places” are now no longer treated with the contempt which was shown to them yesterday by a “science” which did not even condescend to examine the evidence.

ARE CATHOLICS SUPERSTITIOUS?

Clearly, the belief of Catholics in the possibility of miracles cannot be set down accurately as “superstitions” in any sense, unless the whole Christian conception of the universe-to which that belief is related-is shown to be in conflict with the known truth about it as revealed by scientific discovery. This cannot happen, because the field of the natural sciences lies entirely apart from that of theology and philosophy. Scientists can de-scribe the way in which the universe normally works, and formulate “laws” to express that working; but they cannot-as scientists- make any pronouncement about its ultimate invisible government or purpose. It is impossible for them, therefore, to state with genuine professional authority that the special interventions from a higher Order suspending the normal operations of nature do not and cannot take place. They can merely pronounce judgment, in the light of current knowledge, upon the evidence for particular miracles brought to their notice, and express a view whether what has occurred can be accounted for, or not, by known “natural causes.” In the case of miraculous wonders occurring in Scripture and history, the credibility of the first rests on the evidences upon which faith in Christ and the teaching Church are founded: of the second group, each individual instance is a matter of private judgment, to be decided in the light of its own evidence.

It would be foolish to deny that there has been, in the past, considerable “superstition” among Christians, in the .form of irrational credulity concerning particular supposed miracles for which evidence was inadequate or nonexistent. Those in authority have not always checked these follies of over-credulity; and they have too often shared in them, especially in ages when the religious sense was intensely keen and there was little notion about sound historical method or the critical judgment of evidence.

The idea, however, that the rulers of the Church in modern times are indifferent to dangers and scandals of this kind can only be held by those who know very little about Catholicism. As an example, in the two famous cases of Fatima and Lourdes, the Church has been very slow to give any kind of official endorsement to supernatural wonders for which the evidence is overwhelmingly strong: and the rule laid down about unofficial publicity in these matters by Leo XIII in the Constitution, “Officiorum ac Munerum,” is a strict one. “Books and writings,” it declares, “which recount new apparitions, revelations, visions, prophecies and miracles, or which introduce new devotions, even under the plea of their being for private use, supposing such to be published without the lawful permission of ecclesiastical authority, are forbidden.”

THE CREDULITY OF THE “RATIONALIST”

If “pious” superstitions, some of them foolish and indefensible, have been found in the past among Catholic believers, and are found among some of them even in our time, they have no relation whatever to the Catholic system of faith, and are firmly discountenanced by the highest spiritual authorities of the Church.- On the other hand, we may point out. what may fairly be termed a “superstition” on the rationalistic and Protestant side, in regard to the beliefs and worship of Catholicism itself. Many of us have had experience of how ubiquitous is the currency among plain people of lies about such matters as confession, indulgences, “the worship of images,” “Jesuitism,” and so on: and how ready they are to attribute immoralist principles and practices to ourselves and our ecclesiastical authorities. The “rationalist” pseudo-scientific rubbish about “comparative religion”-of which we have already spoken-is matched by the official “black legend” in history, and the current elaborations of a hostile propaganda whose origins can be traced back to the Tudor and Stuart age. In many cases, the slightest serious investigation is sufficient to expose the falseness of these beliefs, some of which are self-refuting once the light of common-sense is turned upon them. Yet the pall of ignorance and prejudice still remains heavy over the secular “enlightened” world in matters relating to the Faith-as is frequently apparent even in the writings and utterances of men who are highly reputed for their intelligence, know-ledge and honesty.

Too often, these people are ready to accept and retail the most idiotic and infamous stories about Catholic faith, practices and personalities without the least attempt at a critical assessment of their value. For example, there was the yarn of Mr. Bagot, in his book, “My Italian Year,” about the “ritual burning” of twenty living infants at Bassano in a “Car of Purgatory” in 1705. The writer, who had quoted the event as illustrating “the lengths to which religious superstition was capable of going,” claimed that his account was based on “local records”: and it was three years before he could be induced to admit that the event was not a religious rite at all, but simply an accident, in which a number of children were burnt when a car caught fire. Again, Mr. E. Clodd, in an address on “Folklore” in 1894, described in detail a “custom” of ritual murder, called “dying for Christ” in an Abruzzi village. The ‘custom” was, of course, a pure myth-and would never have been accepted as anything else, but for the ingrained prejudice, founded on ignorance, which made its “scientific” retailer ready to swallow without inquiry any random tale to the discredit of religion-and, in particular, of Catholicism.

The superstitions of simple folk are excusable-springing, as they do, partly from ignorance and bad example, and partly from the perversion of a natural appetite for sanctifying local life and daily life by intimate ritual observances. They express, even at their worst and silliest, the need of a “God in the dust,” close to man’s childishness, which was answered by the Incarnation. “No such excuse can be offered for the irrational, blind prejudice based on hatred and contempt for revealed religion, which is too often met with among those who pride themselves on their “enlightenment” and respect for truth. The proper name for this is “Theophobia”-and it is one of the most common, and most virulent superstitions of the age in which we live.

Finally, it is worth observing how the tendency to “myth-making” and masquerade of a bogus character has reappeared in the modern infidel cults and “ideologies”-such as Deistic freemasonry, with its rubbish about Boaz and Jachin and Hiram, King of Tyre; Nazism, with its deliberately contrived “race-myth,” and Communism with its mystic veneration for the prophets, Marx, Engels and Lenin, and their infallible interpreter, the mighty Stalin, who is “deified” like the kings of the Hellenistic age, as the centre of a hero-cult in which the young are carefully indoctrinated.

CHAPTER II

The pre-Christian “civilized world” of the Mediterranean was riddled with superstition, which pervaded every class of its communities, and governed their way of life to an extent we can scarcely conceive. Sorcery and incantations were regarded as so dangerous in old Republican Rome that they were dealt with in her earliest written Code, that of the Twelve Tables, which forbade the casting of spells over a neighbour’s fields in order to divert their fertility to one’s own. In his “Natural History” Pliny-who wrote under the Empire-describes how one Furius Cresimus, accused of sorcery because of the unusual fertility of his small farm, repelled the accusation before the Curule AEdile by showing that his “charms” consisted of the hard labour of a household who were well fed and well clad, and provided with proper implements and equipment. In the late Republic and early Empire, while genuine faith in the old Roman gods was in decay, there was an influx of Oriental cults and superstitions of every kind. Belief in the arts of magic, divination and astrology, according to Sir Samuel Dill, was the strongest force in the pagan sentiment of this age. According to Dean Inge-a great authority on the thought of later classical paganism-the effects of astrology and magic as then practised were a fruitful cause of misery, and Christian apologists have not claimed nearly sufficient credit for their liberation of Western thought from this “permanent nightmare of the spirit.” The higher culture of Athens and Alexandria, the two great “university centres” of the time, did not free them from the evil-on the contrary, they were perhaps even worse than Rome. It was common for people to carry a little oil-flask for ceremonial unctions to avert the anger of the gods in case it was accidentally provoked in some way. Theophrastus, in his “Characters,” paints a curious picture of the superstitious man, whose whole life is bound up in a network of petty ritual, and governed by fears of “unlucky” days, animals and events.

PAGAN PRISON OF FEARS

These credulities were not exclusive to the ignorant and vulgar: they obsessed the ruling class and the “intelligentsia” also; even men like the Emperor Marcus Aurelius were by no means immune from their influence. Fear of “ill-omened” dreams was universal: no one was in the least ashamed of confessing the most ridiculous apprehensions, and resorting to equally absurd remedies. For example, the picture is drawn by Petronius of Trimalchio’s dismay when a cock crows at a feast which he is giving. He at once spills his wine beneath the table, changes the rings on his fingers, and orders the offending bird to be killed. Plutarch speaks of the craven fear of men which “filled the whole universe with spectres,” and declares that unbelief itself is less dishonouring to Divinity than “to cringe before gods who are worse than the worst of men.”

At a later period, St. John Chrysostom describes the mass of vain fears which infected the souls of the people of a world still largely pagan, or but partially Christianized in its thought. A braying donkey, a crowing rooster, a man sneezing-almost anything in the least out of the common was interpreted as “an omen,” he says, by crazy people shut up in a prison of dark fears-”more abject in their misery than a whole marketful of slaves.”

In the life of the low-born Marius, who kept a Syrian prophetess in the train, and the cultured aristocrats, Sulla and Caesar, we meet with much the same irrational element of superstition. Sulla wore an amulet of Venus as a lucky charm, and was seen to whisper prayers to it at the critical moment in a battle at the gates of Rome: he had a belief in Fortune like that of Bonaparte in his “Star.” Caesar-a sceptical “rationalist” as regards the gods-was accustomed to rely on a thrice-repeated spell against accidents when driving in a chariot. Another eminent politician, Mucianus, three times a consul, kept a live fly, wrapped in linen as a charm against ophthalmia!

The Christians and Sorcery

St. Augustine shows how the Christians of his time were prone to fall into pagan superstitions in time of sickness-when charms and incantations were recommended, it seems, by pagan neighbours in a good-natured way, much as patent medicines are nowadays. There were “ligatures” tied on to limbs; “inaures” which covered the ear; written spells called “characters,” and various kinds of healing sorcery. All this, said the great Bishop of Hippo, was simply devil-worship-health was being promised in exchange for a denial of Christ and a reliance on the evil powers of the air. Like the martyrs, the Christian patients must stand firm in the hour of temptation. “Your sick-bed is your arena: as you lie helpless, you are wrestling with your foe. Only hold fast to the Faith, and as the end of life is reached, the victory is gained.” Incidentally, the faith in ligatures and similar devices which the saint denounced was still rampant a thousand years later-and is described by Scott in his “Discovery of Witchcraft,” written in Queen Elizabeth’s time, when it was common to resort to “periapts” given by wise women-such as the “five leaves of charmed valerian tied loosely to the thumb with a green thread,” which are described by St. Thomas More in his “Comfort Against Tribulation.”

SOME MODERN SURVIVALS

Another ancient superstition which survived at least till the eighteenth century is faith in the curative powers of the spittle of a fasting person. It is referred to by Pliny in his “Natural History” as a remedy against snake-bite, and was one of the subjects of a medical treatise by one Nicholas Robinson, M.D., which was last reprinted in 1767. The worthy Dr. Robinson descanted on its salutary effects when rubbed on “old aches, pains, recent cuts, wounds, old ulcers, corns, sore eyes and gouty nodes.” The practice of perforating eggshells after consuming their contents is referred to by the same Roman authority: if this is not done, says he, they may become lurking places for maleficent forces. Dean Wren-the father of the great architect, spoke of the witches using unperforated shells as boats “to sail in by night”-this being apparently an alternative form of transport to the better-known broomstick! As late as the last century, an instructor in etiquette corrected the Emperor Napoleon III for neglecting to destroy his egg-shells after eating eggs.

Remaining superstitions of somewhat obscure origin are connected with such matters as ear-tingling, and sneezing-a bad omen, to be averted by calling upon Zeus: hence, “God bless you”-as well as with spitting. They are now, of course, harmless enough, and those who indulge in superstitious tricks and fantasies connected with them, almost always do so in a lighthearted manner, without seriously considering why they do so. It was different, however, in the fifth and sixth centuries, when old civilized paganism was dying in the Mediterranean lands and the barbarian paganism of the North and West was being combated by Christian teachers and rulers.

CHAPTER III

People who read brief historical accounts of the “conversion” of the English, Irish, Franks, Germans and others often have little realization of the enormous difficulty of really Christianizing these Western peoples. Their whole way of life was knit into a pattern of pagan traditional custom connected with the observance of days and seasons, and of popular rites which were often sensual and sometimes horribly cruel. In order to uproot these evils thoroughly, an adequate supply of earnest, holy and well-trained priests was needed, backed by an enlightened authority which could enforce peace and settled government. But none of these conditions prevailed in the period of the “Dark Ages,” when Christendom was being made. It was a time of frightful violence, and the world was desolated by constant war, while “lawful” authority of all kinds was ill-secured and weak in face of militant gangsters. In such conditions, it was enormously difficult to test and prepare candidates properly for the ministry: and also, to secure real instruction for the “converted” and baptized flock in the Word of God: while all sorts of unfit men were liable to be pitch-forked into spiritual office by ruling princes or “racketeers” of various kinds, in order to give them a hold on power and property. When all this is considered, it is not surprising that frightful, barbarous evils, both among the clergy and laity, should continue to exist in the kingdoms where Catholic Christianity was the established faith. The surprising thing is that any sort of Christianity should have survived in such an age-and that its story should not only have been stained by ghastly inequities and abuses, but also glorified by the splendid sanctity and heroic sacrifices of innumerable saints.

THE FIGHT AGAINST PAGAN SURVIVALS

Naturally enough, the weeds of superstition flourished rankly in this world. Some of them remained from the pagan practices of the past: others came in the wake of Christianity-as a consequence of the credulity of the people and the ignorance of too many of the clergy, and the general absence of the critical or scientific sense. The first, however, were the most dangerous, and the war against them occupied much of the attention of the Church’s holy men and reformers. Thus, in the sermons of St. Caesarius of Arles (d. 542) we find constant references to the need of destroying the idolatrous temples, cutting down the sacred trees which were the object of pagan veneration, and so on-and he advocates stern measures-including flogging and chaining-against baptized Christians who apostatised by reverting to their ancestral practices.

“Why,” the saint cries out, “did these wretched people ever enter the Church? Why did they receive the sacrament of baptism, if they were bent on going back afterwards to the sacrilegious worship of their idols?”

The abuses about which he speaks are also mentioned often in “Penitentials” (rules covering matters of Church discipline for various offences) during this century and the three following. One notable one is the tumults which took place whenever there was an eclipse of the moon-based on the belief that the moon-goddess must be backed up by clamorous supplications in her conflict with hostile forces seeking to devour her. Incidentally, practices based on this superstition are recorded as prevailing among the Irish and Welsh as late as 1686; Aubrey, a writer of the time, speaks of them “beating pans” in times of eclipse, by way of assisting the higher orbs! Another evil denounced by St. Caesarius is the observance of Thursday-the day of Thor or Jove-as a sort of rival holy day to Sunday: and he says that there were many who would not work on that day who had no hesitation in doing so on the Christians’ weekly feast. A variety of superstitions centred around Midsummer Eve (later called “St. John’s Eve”), including midnight bathing, dancing round bonfires and jumping through the flames, watching, in the church porch, for the wraiths of next year’s dead. The habit of consulting soothsayers, and performing propitiatory rites at holy wells or fairies’ trees was very common indeed, even among devout Christians-and these, with other pagan legacies, are prohibited in a series of Church Councils, both in the East and West. That of Constantinople in 692, for example, deals with the practices of sorcery and divining, the sale of charms, the drawing of omens from cloud shapes, the lighting of fires at the time of the new moon, and also with revels in honour of Pan and Bacchus. Even the practice of giving New Year presents was at one time considered objectionable, so much was New Year associated with pagan rites and excesses. To counteract this, the day was even made a “fast”-and St. Augustine urged his hearers to give alms, not “strenas” (“Christmas boxes,” as we should say). But it was long before the pagan mummeries linked with January the first were got rid of, or reduced to the harmless customs which still remain in France and many other parts of Europe.

THE “CHRISTIANIZING” OF PAGAN OBSERVANCES

As one would expect, pagan usages connected with the burial of the dead were deeply-rooted and difficult to overthrow. In some cases, there were animal sacrifices, and valued belongings of the deceased were put in the grave with him: while there was unseemly feasting at the graveside. The strange practices of “the wake” and the like, which have survived among the Irish almost to our own day, are well known. In England, there was a curious custom of “burning corn” at the burial, as a safeguard for the health of survivors. These pagan superstitions were the subject of penal Church legislation in the middle ages-but the Christian missionaries and rulers saw well enough how difficult it was to deal with the ancient seasonal observances of the peasantry simply by suppression. For this reason, they frequently adopted the method of compromise, giving a new Christian significance to the ancient pagan observances and feasts. Christmas replaced the Winter-feast of the Sun: instead of the Lupercal, there were the Candlemas processions. Unfortunately, the pagan spirit often survived the “Christianizing” of the older observance-as in the case of the “all-night vigils” in cemeteries and at the shrines of certain saints, which were sometimes accompanied by excesses of various kinds In most instances, however, the Christian’ adoption’ of pagan usages• was wise and beneficial in its consequences; for instance, in the case of the renewed funeral rites offered on the third, seventh and thirtieth days after the burial, where the Church substituted her own Holy Sacrifice of the Mass for the pagan feasts and offerings.

Yet even in the case of “month’s minds” and anniversaries, a “Capitulary” of Rheims in 832 refers to objectionable customs in which the clergy were involved-such as “drinking to the soul of the dead man, dancing, laughter and ballad “singing, together with masked buffooneries,” which are declared to be “devilry.”

CHAPTER IV

So far, we have discussed the struggle of the church with pagan superstitions and sorceries, and with the surviving customary observances of the old world. But, in an age of fervent popular faith, when scientific criticism was unknown, it was inevitable that there should be a good deal of credulity which we would now call “superstitious” connected with purely Christian belief and practice. There was a tendency to regard everything out of the ordinary-good or bad-as due to the direct intervention of spiritual agencies. Accounts of miracles and Divine revelations were easily accepted on little or no evidence, and grew more and more exaggerated as they passed from mouth to mouth. The lives of some of the saints came to be loaded with a legendary element of a fantastic “fairy tale” kind-often beautiful and noble in its symbolism, but entirely unrelated to facts. Again, there was a readiness to invoke “the judgment of God” in place of using competent human judgment in legal cases-as in the “ordeals” by fire, battle and other processes which were ultimately condemned by the Church. Here, the evil was not the giving of undue honour to false divinities: but the honouring of the true God in an irrational and infantile way.

The error of credulity was largely unavoidable, in the absence of any systematic canons of criticism: but it must be admitted that it was to be found in all classes, and among the wisest and most holy of the men of the middle ages.

RELICS AND CREDULITY

For example, in the life of St. Anselm, the great Archbishop and Church doctor, we read of him as being “enraptured” at learning of the relics brought back by one Ilgyrus from the Crusades-including some hairs of Our Blessed Lady, torn out by her in her agony before the Cross, which had been given to him by the Patriarch of Antioch. The “ancient records” in which, the Patriarch claimed, their authenticity was attested, were not inquired into at all-the truth of the incredible story was accepted quite simply, and the “sacred hairs” were received with veneration by the saint himself, along with the Archbishop and Canons of the city of Rouen. Actually, there were some fifty or more churches which claimed to have similar relics, supposedly gathered from the soil of Calvary on the evening after the Crucifixion.

In the inventory of Westminster Abbey in the fifteenth century are found a variety of relics of Our Lady- including pieces of her dress, garments she had woven, part of the window recess where she had stood at the Annunciation, relics of her “milk,” her shoes, her bed and her girdle. King Athelstane had presented a veil of hers; King Offa a piece of the tomb from which she had arisen at the Assumption. It is now known, incidentally, that the supposed “milk” was simply an exudation of a substance now called galactite, found in a cave in Egypt, where the Holy Family was supposed to have taken refuge.

The enthusiasm of St. Anselm for doubtful relics is typical of his age; and in his case, as in that of St. Hugh of Lincoln, St. Louis and others, it is clear that their motives in acquiring these memorials were those of the purest devotion-just as were the motives of the early Christians who sought to be buried near to the tombs of the martyrs. The instinct which inspired such a craving is deeply human -it is found outside Catholicism, not only in the Orthodox and other Eastern Churches, but among Moslems and Buddhists. Even in the Protestant world, there are unexpected examples of the kind-such as the case of the much-venerated Calvinistic Methodist Prophet, William Huntington, whose furniture and possessions fetched “extraordinary prices when they were auctioned, at his death, among his devoted followers.

The inventories of great shrines of the Middle Ages furnish all too much material for the mockery of modern infidels. There were the tears-gathered up by angels-of Our Lord weeping at the tomb of Lazarus, which were preserved at various places. St. Medard treasured a milk-tooth lost by the Child Jesus at the age of nine. In the Lateran there was the blossoming rod of Aaron, with relics of the Saviour’s cradle, the five barley loaves and two small fishes, the cloth used to wipe the feet of the disciples, the seamless vesture and the purple garment, phials of the sacred blood and water from Christ’s side. . . . Frequently the same articles are found in different lists of relics. Needless to say, those who accepted traditions which appeared to possess authority regarding these treasures, and venerated them in good faith, were not guilty of anything which can be justly stigmatized as “superstition”: and the general readiness to believe in preternatural explanations for unusual happenings is also excused by the almost universal ignorance of physical science. The trouble is that the credulity of an age which knew little of how to distinguish between false and true relics and false and true marvels, has helped to confirm the universal scepticism of later days, so that all have frequently been mingled in a common condemnation as fraudulent and legendary with equal lack of critical discernment.

THE “EVIL EYE”

Meanwhile, the more commonplace kind of superstitions went on flourishing, in spite of Church denunciations; for instance, the observance of “lucky” and “unlucky” days; and faith in auguries and omens was still common among the ignorant. Belief in the “Evil Eye” at this period should be regarded rather as an. erroneous opinion than a superstition, since it was linked up with the physical theories of Aristotle. It is on the word of “the Philosopher” that St. Thomas Aquinas accepts the myth of the baleful effect of “oculus fascinans” as a generally recognized fact. The eyes were supposed to infect the air in contact with them for a certain distance: so that “when a soul is vehemently moved to wickedness, as occurs mostly in little old women”-according to this opinion-the countenance can inflict damage, especially on the delicate bodies of the young. Similarly, the moon was regarded as hurtful to the weak-minded-hence the term “lunatic.” The explanation offered by St. Thomas (once again on Aristotle’s authority) is that since the moon acts on moist things-as, for example, the sea, which is drawn by it so as to form the tides-it acts also on the brain, as the most moist part of the human body: and the demons take the opportunity provided by this circumstance to disturb man’s imagination.

But if the acceptance of general beliefs which seemed to be founded on scientific principles could not be held superstitious, the case was different with the methods used to counteract the “evil eve.” For this amulets were sometimes worn, shaped like horns, or a hand, -or. some obscene symbol. Herbs-notably the one called “Mugwort,” were worn as a protection against both the Evil Eye and diabolical possession. In Southern Europe, where this particular illusion is still rampant, blue beads and blue jewels are often worn as a precaution against it- in Spain, fragments of mirrors, or of foxskin or sheepskin, used to be tied round children’s necks as an antidote. The “sign of the horns.,” made with the fingers, is used in Italy. Even when the Evil Eye danger was seriously believed in, these practices were denounced as superstitious-as, for instance, by Archdeacon Martin of Arles in his work on superstitions.

The same authority speaks of the custom of “ducking” a statue of St. Peter in time of drought, and that of tying the girdle of a woman lying in childbirth to the church gong and then ringing it thrice. He mentions a number of written spells and charms in which gibberish was blasphemously mingled with prayers.

FAITH AND FOLLY MINGLED

The prejudice against a priest’s presence on board ship has been attributed to the Biblical story of Jonah-hence the name often given to such ill-luck bearers. It is certainly a very ancient one. It was bad luck to meet a priest or friar at certain other times—for instance, when going hunting: horsemen must pass them on the left . . and so on. Divinations of the year’s weather were made by that prevailing on certain days. Superstitions were linked up with certain forms of devotion -such as fasting on the week day on which “Our Lady in Lent” (the Feast of the Annunciation) occurred; among the populace the actual sight of the consecrated Host at Mass was often regarded as supremely important-even as sufficient for the fulfilment of the Sunday obligation; and it was held to be a safeguard against a variety of material ills.

In medical prescriptions we often find religion and superstition curiously mingled. A specimen of this is a “leechdom” for the cure of wens, in which a maiden dips three cups of water from a stream flowing east into another vessel, singing Creeds and Paternosters while she does so; this “treatment” to be repeated for nine days. A “holy salve” is formed of various herbs mingled with butter from a single-colour cow, which has the names of the Evangelists written upon it, and is then stirred up while the Psalm, “Beati Immaculati,” is recited.

CHURCH CONDEMNATIONS OF CREDULITY

There were not lacking intelligent churchmen who spoke out against all these follies, however, as well as against the current belief in fairies, witches, wizards, etc., and the habit of attributing all kinds of calamities to direct diabolical action and sorcery. St. Agobard of Lyons declared that it was not the devil’s work to cause plagues or tempests, but rather to instil superstitious ideas into men’s minds, from which all sorts of silliness and injustice resulted. He instances a case in which a number of innocent persons were put to death on the accusation of having acted as agents of Grimoald, Duke of Benevento, in causing a murrain of cattle by poison-powder.

In Penitentials of the ninth century, prevalent beliefs about the powers of witches are condemned as pagan falsehood: and Burchard’s “Corrector” in the tenth century treats belief in the possibility of their marvellous powers of riding through the air, changing men into animals, holding intercourse with demons and so on, as being itself a sin of superstition deserving heavy penance.

The “Ordeals” by combat, water, red hot iron and so on dominated the administration of justice in a baleful fashion for a long time. Their origin was pagan-but they were adopted and adapted by Christian authorities and continued for a long time before their principle was exposed as thoroughly unsound from the theological standpoint, and they were formally condemned by the fourth Council of the Lateran. Even then they lingered on in secular tribunals until the seventeenth century.

CHAPTER V

The Reformation swept away the veneration of relics, whether false or true, and discredited many of the marvels connected with holy men and holy things in which Catholic Christendom had believed. Nothing, however, could be more erroneous than the notion that it diminished superstition, which remained rampant in all classes-through the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries.

“Good Queen Bess” herself employed Dr. John Dee, a clergyman of the new Church of England, as her domestic astrologer for over forty years, and called in his services in a panic in order to counteract the malignant activities of someone who had made a wax image of her and stuck a pin in it. Prosecutions for witchcraft had been rare in the Middle Ages, and seldom led to the death penalty-but in the age of Elizabeth and her successors they were multiplied a hundredfold. The wise James I was a strong believer in the “witch menace,” and wrote an authoritative work on the subject in Scotland, which was republished in England after his accession to the throne there. Incidentally, the mass of cruelties committed by the witch-hunters in England and Scotland during this period enormously outweighs the much-advertised (and grossly exaggerated) cruelties of the Spanish Inquisition in the same period-and the Inquisition was notably mild and sceptical in its attitude towards supposed cases of sorcery. France and Germany, however, were infected much with the prevalent witch-mania, which was common to Protestants and Catholics. Superstitious and magical practices were rife everywhere; and everywhere the terror of sorcery was prevalent. Even such men as Sir Thomas Browne, who exposed many common errors of his time, accepted the current belief in witchcraft, which is expressed in a number of the plays of Shakespeare. In a work on “Character of Virtue and Vice,” written by Joseph Hall in 1600, a picture is painted of the superstitious man of the time in all his “devout impiety” turning home if a hare crosses his path, or if he recalls that the day is unlucky: turning pale when salt is spilled, listening for the cry of the crow, tormenting himself over dreams, making oracles of St. Swithin’s day and the twelve days of Christmas. “Old wives and stars are his counsellors: his right spell is his guard and charms his physicians.”

MODERN SUPERSTITIONS

The salt-spilling superstition, which has survived to our own time, seems to be fairly modern: one of the earliest signs of it is in Leonardo da Vinci’s “Last Supper” picture, where the salt cellar in front of Judas has been upset. Another recent notion is that of disaster portended by a crossed knife and fork-forks, of course, were not used in England before the age of Elizabeth. The fears connected with umbrellas opened in the house or left on tables are of even later development, since these conveniences were first introduced in the eighteenth century.

Since glass mirrors did not come into general use in Europe until at least the seventeenth century, the belief about the “seven years’ bad luck” connected with breaking them is obviously of late origin, though it is widely spread among gentle and simple. Accidents with mirrors are also held sometimes to portend death in the house.

How did such superstitions as these come to appear? It seems probable that they arose in many cases simply from the chance coincidence to two disconnected events. The superstitiously disposed are prone to recall that when such and such an event occurred they had brought peacock’s feathers into the house, or had put on a new dress of some particular colour. Perhaps ill-fortune is connected twice with a memory of the same kind. An imaginary link is woven, the suspicion is communicated to friends, and the new superstition starts on its way. Henceforth, whenever instances occur which tend to confirm the notion, they are observed-while those where it fails pass unnoticed.

One can think of a large number of “bad luck” ideas which may have originated in this way-those connected with looking at the new moon through glass, for instance, or halving onions, or lighting three cigarettes with a single match, or being the first to cross a new bridge or enter a new house. On the other hand, there are “lucky” events of an equally arbitrary kind-to be born with a caul: to find a stone with a hole in it: to touch a hunch-back’s hump: to dream of the devil. The idea of “touching wood” to avert ill when one boasts of good fortune is linked, perhaps, with the pagan worship of sacred trees-as well as with the ancient instinct to propitiate what Herodotus calls “the grudge of the gods.” Various explanations are made of the “ill-luck” of passing under a ladder, linking it with the pyramids, ancient grave customs, the gallows, and the Cross; but it may well have arisen simply from the originally rational fear of having something dropped upon one from above!

The ill-omen connected with the number thirteen is perhaps the most seriously held of modern superstitions; and it seems certain that it is derived from the number of persons present at the Last Supper. There is no trace of it at all in old paganism, but a modern hostess will go to great lengths to prevent thirteen from sitting together at her table-and the fears connected with forming one of such a group are very real, though utterly irrational. The stigma on thirteen has grown so that builders avoid it in numbering houses, and hotelkeepers in numbering rooms, and extra steps have even been constructed to avoid the evil number in a flight. Similarly, the idea of Friday being an ill-omened day is certainly connected with the Crucifixion-and it has had a serious effect up to our own day, in diminishing journeys by land and sea, and marriages in certain places. The superstition about weddings in May is more obscure; it appears in Ovid, but was unknown in the Middle Ages.

CONCLUSION

But it is impossible here to discuss even a small number of the manifold superstitions yet current in this “age of enlightenment”-some of them most strange and far-fetched, some, perhaps, relics of earlier notions once held scientific. The two last wars were accompanied by outbursts of superstition relating to astrological forecasts, prophecies, and spiritualistic communications-not to mention amulets and mascots; the air force has produced a brand-new goblin of its own-the gremlin.

Clearly, man finds it very hard indeed to rid himself of irrational beliefs which have no basis in real religious or philosophic teachings, and which are-from the scientific standpoint -pure absurdity. In general, the superstitions of modern civilized people are childish rather than a real menace to faith or sane social life-to that extent progress has been made. From the Christian standpoint, they have at least the merit of keeping alive, to some extent, the half-belief in a strange, immaterial order affecting human life, in a world obsessed by the opposite error of materialist incredulity.

In the Roman empire of the fifth century, Christian faith had to struggle out of a jungle of polytheism and magic which seemed very real indeed to plain people-as they do in many parts of Asia and Africa even today. The danger that the mud and tendrils of the former belief of the new Christian might cling to him, or that he might blend his older beliefs with the new, was one of the major problems of the Church, and the reason for the fierce intolerance of practices which they regarded as an apostate reversion to the cult of devils.

Modern superstitions are still essentially a perversion of the reverence due to real spiritual truth and holiness, and are degrading to human reason; but they are, for the most part, merely venial. God is not seriously dishonoured by the half-belief men give to mascots, or their reaction to spilling salt, breaking mirrors or travelling on Friday; and superstitious excesses of a pious kind are an expression of childish faith which requires education to maturity, rather than any kind of sin. But what is most deplorable in cases of real superstition is that the person concerned is a moral and mental weakling, who refuses to base his life on the firm principles of religion, and is credulous of any tale he hears repeated often enough, following the current fashion in the practice of follies.

The decay of faith makes men ready to gamble on absurd chances-but not to take them seriously. But superstition leads to the neglect of fortitude, sincerity, and confidence in God; it undermines the religious sense- and it is horribly contagious. The man of true faith will seek to purify his mind of such nonsense as he clears his hands and feet of the day’s dirt, lest it become ingrained and infect the body with poison.

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Take And Eat

BY REY. ROBERT NASH, S.J

INDEX

FROM TIME TO TIME one hears of men going on a hunger strike and everybody knows what must be the inevitable result if they persist in refusing to take food. Little by little the body will grow more and more emaciated, each day that the strike lasts sees the man’s strength give way, and ultimately death must come, for, through sheer lack of food, all power has been lost to resist its onslaughts.

Now there is another sort of hunger strike with which we propose to deal in the pages of this little book. You will find thousands of Catholics who refuse to give to their souls the food that is essential to the soul’s health. Result? Of course the soul too sickens and dies, for having no powers of resistance it must also succumb to the attacks of the forces of evil. You cannot put a soldier on the field and make no provision for keeping him supplied with food. A starving man must be fed and nourished before he can be expected to fight. In just the same way, your soul cannot long hold out against the many enemies who assail her unless she too is kept fit for the fight by regular supplies of sustaining food.

On every side you will come across people who will explain to you how hard it is to “keep good” at this present time. Undoubtedly, the world of today abounds in temptations of all sorts, and the Catholic who steers through the labyrinth and keeps his course must needs be a skilled pilot. Passion is seething in the human breast and facilities for its gratification abound. What is easier than to allow one’s ideals to run crashing into the reef ? Who does not feel at times almost overpowered by the temptation to take his hand off the helm and, regardless of consequences, to let his little craft dash recklessly into the vortex of excitement and sin? *

Poor frail human nature, in which there is so much that is noble and lovable ! How many there are who embark on life’s journey buoyed up with high-souled aspirations and who grow listless and inert before many knots have been covered ! How many resolute promises to God are made and how few there are, comparatively, who prove their loyalty to Him when tested by the storms and winds and rain of temptation! What tears of bitter repentance for sin, followed by a return to husks of swine! Strange that it should be so,-on the one hand this craving for goodness and on the other this apparent inability to attain to it, at least permanently!

This is the place to pause for a moment in order to remind our-selves of a vastly consoling truth. It is very well worth while insisting with ourselves that it is quite a literal fact that the forces arrayed against us are indeed too strong for us. We have no chance against them. The enemy is a master of astuteness, and, in the “body of flesh” with its sinful tendencies, he finds a willing ally. Left to ourselves it is impossible for us even to conceive a good thought or cherish a holy desire. How much more impossible must it be to steer a straight course in face of the violent storms which continually threaten to capsize your little boat?

Do recognise that it is impossible. Admit readily to yourself that it cannot be done. But if this is true where does the consolation come in? Is not my utter helplessness calculated only to fill me with depression and make me give up the struggle altogether? What is the use in fighting sin and temptation if I am so hopelessly weak before them?

This attitude would be intelligible if we had to say that we were left to ourselves. But the same Lord Who assures us that without Him we can do nothing was far indeed from abandoning us to the buffetings out on life’s ocean. The enemy is strong. Our merciful Lord has therefore provided us with a marvellous life-giving food precisely because we need so sorely a strength that is greater.

And that food is nothing less than His own Body and Blood. “Take ye and eat ; this is My Body. Take ye and drink ; this is My Blood . . . He that eateth My flesh and drinketh My blood hath everlasting life.” Long ago the prophet fainted on his journey and was desperately tempted to lie down and die. But God sent him a strengthening bread from heaven. He ate and walked forty days till he reached Horeb the mount of God. Our souls, too, need strengthening Food and nobody knows that better than Our Lord. “If God be with me who shall be against me?” And through frequent and fervent reception of Holy Communion God is in very truth living in me. What wonder that the enemy quails before His Face?

* See “Talking of Temptation,” by Father Nash, S.J. (“Irish Messenger” Office, ad.).

“Take and eat” this divin e Food and see what will happen. You will find a new strength growing up within you, just the very strength you needed. When you have for a time made frequent and fervent Holy Communion a habit, you will some day begin to reflect within yourself on a happy change that has taken place in your life. Temptation is still there and well you know that it is always possible for you to fall. But while it is true that you recognise your weakness it is none the less true that the attack has lost much of its force. Moreover passion, which formerly had such a strong appeal, now seems to have calmed considerably and the glittering objects with which it used to seduce you are seen to be after all, only so much tinsel. You have more confidence now without being in any way presumptuous. You have a sense of comforting security now, for passion though not dead, is no longer the imperious tyrant of other days. In a word you have acquired strength, a strength to do what you know you should do and to avoid what you know you should leave undone.

Such a happy change! It is such a relief! How has this result come about? Your new-found strength is not your own. You are now receiving Holy Communion frequently and fervently and so you have within you the strength of Jesus Christ Himself. In a new sense the words of St. Paul are yours: “I live, now not I, but Christ lives in me.”

“Take and Eat.” Never until we get to heaven, and not even then, shall we fully understand the anxiety of Jesus Christ for our eternal salvation. It is not fair to complain of our trials and temptations for no temptation is insuperable. “I can do all things in Him that strengthenth me,” and it is especially through this ineffable gift of Himself that Jesus pours His own strength, His own very life, into your soul.

He has sympathy with you in those attacks of the enemy. He understands how vehement can be the inclination to plunge recklessly into evil. But do not tax Him with leaving you without provision for the fight. You cannot go down if you depend on Him. you cannot be seriously wounded if His life is abiding in you. Or if you do fall and if you are wounded you will immediately rise again. That is why we say that monthly Holy Communion is good; weekly Holy Communion is better ; daily Holy Communion, worthily received, is best of all. Why? Because the oftener you take and eat of this sacred Food the more your strength will increase, or better, the more His divine strength will wax within your soul, and if God be with you who shall be against you ? This is why He leaves Himself to you under the form of bread,-to indicate that Holy Communion is the source of strength.

There is scarcely a time a priest stands in a pulpit that he does not want to speak about this first effect of Holy Communion. Such a marvellous remedy for the frailty of human nature! One has had the happiness of seeing lives revolutionised by the regular and fervent reception of this divine Food. Weakness gone before His strength, fear and anxiety giving way to joy and trust, temptations that hitherto seemed to hold the poor captive in manacles of steel now broken at last and freedom restored-these are some of the wondrous results that accrue to the soul through the strength of Christ communicated to her by means of Holy Communion. Try it.

But what passes one’s comprehension is that so many fail to use this divine remedy. You know you are a slave to impurity or drink, you know your soul is in imminent danger of being lost, you have lived in habitual carelessness. Do you tell me that you really desire to rise above all that welter of sin? To live once again the life worthy of your manhood? Do you say that you wish you could be pure but that your case seems hopeless? You are contradicted by no less a Person than Jesus Christ. “He that eateth Me the same also shall live by Me.”

Some months ago a priest said Mass on a Sunday morning in a country church. Out of a dense mass of men only two or three received Holy Communion. Why? Must not one presume that in a big crowd like that there were many sorely tempted, many possibly who had allowed themselves to be driven hither and thither before the violence of the storm? Yet here was the remedy and they will not take it. Here is the source of the very strength of God Himself, ready to place itself at their disposal and there they stand, staring vacantly before them, and letting the food pass them by. One wonders if they are in earnest about their cure at all seeing that they make so poor a use of the prescription left them by the Physician.

You cannot break off that occasion of sin, -without Christ. You cannot give up that companion who is leading you astray and whom you perhaps are leading astray,-without Christ. You have not a chance, with your weak vacillating will, of guiding your barque through the raging torrents, pitted against such a foe, unless Christ steers with you. But with Him what a difference! His strength gathering your weakness to Himself; His holiness transforming the ugliness of your sinfulness; His steady hand on the wheel and His unerring gaze fixed on the shore; in a word His very life expanding each day more and more within your soul. “Take and eat” for you can do all things in Him Who gives you such a strength.

A certain man had been a daily communicant for many years. Once each week he had to drive to a city one hundred and forty miles distant from his home, and his business there required his presence at an early hour in the morning. His practice was, on arriving at that city, to pull up his car outside a Church and go into Mass and Holy Communion. He had driven one hundred and forty miles fasting and without a smoke, for the privilege of being able to receive Holy Communion, and this not once or twice but for many years. Here was a man who realised that monthly Holy Communion was good; weekly Holy Communion better, but daily Holy Communion best of all. Did he have temptations? Of course he had. Did he succumb? Of course he did not. Or if he did, he at once recovered. Why? Because of the regular supplies of the grace of God, divine life itself, which were thus continually reaching his soul and strengthening his powers of resistance.

In many places of Holy Scripture you have instances, sad indeed, of men who were brought to Our Lord because they were possessed by an evil spirit. The unfortunate man so possessed spoke as the evil spirit wished him to speak, moved as he ordered him to move, flinging himself here and there despite the efforts of the strongest men to hold him down. There is another sort of possession,. a much happier possession, the possession which Our Lord designs to secure over your whole being through Holy Communion.

“Comprehensus sum a Christo Jesu,” writes St. Paul. “I am apprehended, or seized upon by Jesus Christ.” The metaphor is from racing. The winner of the race seized upon his prize and held it in his possession as a sign of his prowess.

Now the prize most valued by Jesus Christ, the valiant Champion, is the soul and the heart and the mind of the creature fashioned by the hand of our heavenly Father. That He should love human nature to such an extent is a miracle that we shall not exhaust even in eternity. But of the fact there can be no sort of doubt. This is the prize He longs to seize upon and to hold in His possession. And it is especially through Holy Communion worthily received that He secures His objective.

What does this possession by Christ imply? Think of the different faculties you possess and try to understand how, if this second effect of Holy Communion obtains, each will be brought under the controlling influence of Jesus Christ.

You possess first of all two interior faculties, your mind and your heart. The mind is the seat of thought. That mind of yours must henceforth cherish only the thoughts of Christ since He designs to acquire complete possession of it. “Let that mind be in you which was also in Christ Jesus.”

Hence you will carefully exclude from your mind all deliberate thoughts of impurity, of hatred, revenge, selfish greed. Why? Because that mind of yours now belongs to Christ since He has taken possession of it through Holy Communion. How then could you entertain thoughts of that sort seeing that they are so foreign to the mind of Christ?

And on the positive side your mind will cultivate the thoughts that filled the mind of Christ. You know how He went about doing good to all men, ever thinking of their needs, always on the watch to help. The mind of which He has taken possession must be like Him henceforth, “all things to all men.” That divine Mind valued most highly the things that are above, treasure to be laid up in heaven where neither rust nor moth doth consume. Receive frequently and fervently this divine Guest into your soul and you too will begin to relish eternal things, and the race for power or money or sin, which-occupies the thoughts and energies of the bulk of mankind will seem to you, what it is in reality, a foolish waste of time and opportunity. You will see life from a new angle,-the only opportunity you have of accumulating treasure in heaven,-and you will be all keenness to make the most of that one opportunity. Thus will you develop the mind of Christ through contact with Him in Holy Communion.

Then there is your heart, the seat of your affections. Of St. Paul it was said that the heart of Paul was the heart of Christ. Why? Because with his great apostolic love he embraced only the objects which were ever dear above all to the Sacred Heart,-the souls of men. When the mind is possessed by Christ light and conviction follow. When the heart comes under His divine influence the will reaches out to lay hold upon souls and lead them to Christ for He is an ardent lover of souls. In Holy Communion then, He seeks to obtain this entire possession of your heart and fill it with the affections of His own Heart. Hence too, He will rigorously exclude all false unworthy objects. Affection to sin must go because if Jesus loved sinners He hated intensely sin which would rob them of the heaven prepared for them.

Your external faculties must also come under the power and control of Jesus through Holy Communion. Your eyes must never deliberately look at an object that He could not gaze upon. Why?

Because they belong to Him now since through Holy Communion He has taken possession of them. Your tongue upon which He rested must never utter an unkind word, still less must it spread lying gossip or foul language. It belongs to Him. It is His possession now since your Holy Communion. Your ears you will close to all that you know is opposed to what He would have you listen to your hands? His were roughened with toil; your hands too will be ready to serve others in any way in your power. Those hands of yours are His property since He owns you through Holy Communion. Therefore He can use your hands to help His members, the members of His mystical Body. Finally He must take possession of your feet. These you will not use to walk into occasions of sin. You will never allow them to lead you into places where He and His Blessed Mother cannot be welcome guests. Why? Because they now belong to Him. He has taken possession of them by means of Holy Communion.

The whole idea of St. Paul’s theology is that the life of Jesus should grow within us by a continual increase of divine grace in the soul. Now in Holy Communion we receive the very Source itself of all grace. That is why it is such a sovereignly effective means of bringing about the wonderful transformation in our faculties which make them responsive to the most delicate touches of divine grace. Take and eat this Food regularly and fervently and a Christliness will necessarily follow. Monthly Holy Communion is good; weekly Holy Communion is better; daily Holy Communion is best of all.

St. Catherine could never receive Holy Communion without falling into an ecstasy which often lasted for hours afterwards. St. Ignatius had the greatest difficulty in saying Mass on account of the abundance of tears he shed when he recalled the self-abasing and tender love of Jesus in the Holy Eucharist. The Cure of Ars used to say that if we realised what the Mass is we should die of love and wonder. Not so long ago a nonCatholic said to a Catholic: “If I believed what you Catholics say you believe about the Blessed Eucharist I think I should never be off my knees.” When Dr. Orchard was still a Protestant he attended Mass one day and, on coming out of the Church he said to his companion: “These Catholics may be right or they may be wrong in what they believe about the Eucharist. But one thing I know,-that priest whohas just said Mass, he at least believes it.” The reverent attitude of that priest, his very evident deep spirit of faith as he moved about the altar and handled the Sacred Host produced their effect and contributed towards the conversion of that great Catholic.

These things are said by way of introducing what we wish to bring forward as the third effect of fervent and frequent Holy Communion. Jesus does not give strength merely, nor does He content Himself with taking possession. Above all, through contact with Him is there enkindled in the heart a fire of burning love. “Hold Him and keep Him for thy friend, Who, when all others forsake thee will not abandon thee or suffer thee to perish in the end.”

The man who is a regular and worthy communicant knows well the truth of the love of Jesus for him. He has not learned it out of books merely. He has not just listened to it in sermons. From his own intimate experience he understands, in a way he cannot tell you, that when Jesus Christ stretches out His arms wide to embrace all men, when He proclaims from the house tops that His Heart is on fire with love for us in our waywardness and sinfulness,-contact with Christ has taught him well that this language of love is no metaphor but literal truth.

When Our Lord gave us this Gift He was seated with “His own” at the Supper Table. He saw that in that very night Judas would betray Him with a kiss. Peter would deny Him three times, cursing and swearing that he had never even heard His name. The rest of His own would scamper away from Him in terror at the first appearance of danger. And His “revenge” is to give them this Gift. “Take ye and eat.” Was there ever such a Lover?

And as He sat there He looked down through the centuries and saw the Peters and the Judasas who would betray Him and repudiate His Gift. He saw the innumerable sacrileges that would desecrate His Eucharist. He saw that many would draw near to Him to receive Him, apparently indeed His friends, but in reality, even at that awful moment,- appalling thought,-their souls would be reeking with the guilt of mortal sin. Of all this He would have to complain to St. Margaret Mary. Of ingratitude, and sacrilege, and forgetfulness, and this “even from those consecrated to Me!”

Why then does He give the Gift at all? If the vast bulk of mankind are going to treat Him thus why will He knowingly allow the Bread of angels to be trampled underneath the feet of swine? Why? Because although the “vast majority” will repay His love with blasphemy, there will be at least a minority who will try to appreciate and love. And so ardently does He crave for that love of man’s heart that He will go through all that sea of sin and sacrilege for the sake of that few.

When the priest bends over the chalice at the Consecration of the Mass, Holy Church puts on his lips the words: “This is the chalice . . . which will be poured out for you and for many. . . . Pro vobis et pro multis. There is here a clear distinction. The Gift is first of all “pro vobis,”-for those around Him, His intimate friends, and only after them “pro multis,”-for the general multitude. The inner circle may be small but so intense is His love that He will endure sacrileges and insults provided He can be its centre.

So we have now touched upon three effects brought aboutin the soul that “takes and eats” this Sacred Food. Strength, the very strength of Christ Himself. Possession, so that little by little Our Lord can control all that man’s faculties.

And lastly, a burning love which shrivels up the nonsense and the make believe of the world and establishes between Jesus and the soul a most holy and intimate and abiding familiarity. Yes, let us once again repeat our slogan. Monthly Holy Communion is good; weekly Holy Communion is better; daily Holy Communion, worthily received, is best of all.

Strengthened with Christ’s strength; possessed by Christ and possessing Him; loved by Him and loving Him ardently-if these are some of the wonders wrought by Holy Communion why are there so many who regard His Gift so casually? Why are there not many more daily communicants?

One reason we have touched upon already. It seems hard to excuse those who complain about the difficulties of living a good life if they refuse to use this wonderful antidote. Men going to war have to receive injections against disease. Every man on earth is fighting for his eternal salvation. He too needs an injection against the diseases that are sure to attack him and the divine Physician has supplied it. It is an infallible Injection for it is His own precious Blood. If you do not use it, or use it only haphazardly, who is to blame if you fall a victim to sin? The question is: Are you really in earnest at all about your eternal salvation?

But, apart from this class there is another which makes only scant use of this Gift, though for a different reason. Many good Catholics will, say to you: “Yes, I could go to Holy Communion often, but I wouldn’t dare. The fact is that I am not worthy.” Did anybody ever remotely suggest that you were worthy? Does not common sense tell you at once that of course you are utterly unworthy? How could anyone of us, even the greatest saint, be worthy of admittance to this sacred Banquet? “If you had the purity of an angel and the holiness of John the Baptist you would not be worthy. . . .”

You receive Our Lord, not because you are worthy but because you are sorely in need of Him. “Without Me you can do nothing.” The only worthiness strictly required is freedom from mortal sin. But what about venial sins? Certainly cleanse your soul of them before Holy Communion by a good act of contrition. But on no account should you allow them to keep you away.

Here is a mother of a large family. Your youngest child spills tea on a new table cloth and you fly into a temper. Can you go to Holy Communion tomorrow? Certainly. Here is a lady walking down town and she runs into a bit of uncharitable gossip. Then reflects afterwards: What a pity! I suppose that now I can’t go to Holy Communion. Please let me say very emphatically that you can. Here is a man playing cards and the language grows a bit coarse. That indeed is not an ideal preparation for Holy Communion but if he has done his best to keep clear of that language, or even if he has smiled or put in his few words, let him make his act of sorrow and promise of amendment, and go to Holy Communion. You tell a small lie in order to get out of a scrape, you indulge a habit of laziness, you pray with distraction-these things need not keep you from Holy Communion.

To avoid all venial sin for a long period is impossible, without a special grace from God. But Holy Communion is one of the very best means of conquering these vicious habits. Venial sin disappears out of your soul when Christ enters into you in much the same way as darkness vanishes when you open the shutter and allow the glorious summer sun to stream into your room.

Nobody will misunderstand and argue that we seem to be condoning habits of venial sin. Far from it. Our only point for the moment is, that venial sin does not constitute a barrier to the reception of this most Holy Sacrament. Everyone knows that no purity can be too great to receive the all-pure God. Everyone understands that frequent reception of Holy Communion should diminish enormously the frequency of venially sinful habits. So if you fall into venial sins make an act of contrition and go to Holy Communion and confess those sins at your next ordinary Confession.

Suppose I commit a mortal sin and make an act of perfect contrition? Can I now go to Holy Communion, provided I have the intention of confessing at my next confession? No. This is a case where, with very rare exceptions, you should abstain from going to Holy Communion. As soon as you make your act of perfect contrition your sin is indeed entirely forgiven,* but there remains on you the obligation to confess it before you receive Holy Communion.

The case would be different if you forgot to tell a mortal sin in Confession. You had your mind fully made up to tell it but somehow it went clean out of your head when you were kneeling before the priest. Can you go to Holy Communion? Yes. And how often? As often as you wish, not once or twice only. Your only obligation in this case is to tell the forgotten sin at your next ordinary Confession. If an opportunity turns up of going to Confession of which you would not ordinarily be availing yourself, there is no obligation on you to avail of it now merely because you forgot your sin. Hence, in this case go to Holy Communion, and as often as you like, and tell the sin at your next ordinary Confession.

From what we have just been saying you see that it is not necessary to go to Confession each time you go to Holy Communion. Many excellent Catholics miss opportunities of receiving Our Lord because of this false notion. If you are going frequently to Holy Communion you are certainly to be recommended to go frequently also to Confession. But, provided you are keeping clear of mortal sin there is no reason in the world why you should not go to Holy Communion several times even though weeks may have elapsed during which you had not an opportunity of getting to Confession.

You have been to Confession on a Saturday and twelve days later you are at Mass and you are fasting. IS there anything to keep you from receiving Holy Communion? Nothing at all provided you have not fallen meantime into mortal sin. And the same will be true in another week’s time. Of course we must again stress that frequent Confession is much to be recommended when you are receiving Holy Communion frequently. But recommendation is one thing and obligation is another, and it is a pity if you miss a chance of receiving Our Lord when you might lawfully and laudably avail of it.

Sometimes people find themselves caught the other way, i.e. they have opportunity of going to Confession but they cannot get to Holy Communion. You have to deliver milk or go to the factory on a Sunday morning and it is impossible for you, especially at certain seasons, to go frequently to Holy Communion. But what about Confession? There is no difficulty, you say, about that on the previous Saturday. But what’s the use when I”m not able to go to Holy Communion? There is every use. Every sacrament brings grace to your soul. If you cannot receive both sacraments do make sure of at least one and you will reap much benefit.

Perhaps it may be well to insert a word here about the privilege sick people have concerning the Eucharistic fast. If a man has been laid up for a month (roughly twenty-four or twenty-five days), he can receive Holy Communion without keeping the fast from midnight. “Laid up” does not mean that he has to be actually in bed all during that month. Perhaps he sits up for a few hours or even goes out in the sunshine during the day, or can manage even a little walk in his garden. Now if he has been in that state for about a month he can get leave from his Confessor to receive Holy Communion twice in each week, even though he has taken liquid food during the previous night. And with that permission, he is allowed to drink, not once only, but as often as he needs on each of the two nights. He can drink tea, or liquid medicine, or a “beaten-up” egg-anything provided it does not lose its character of being liquid.

Note that he must have completed the twenty-four or twenty-five days. It does not suffice that the doctor tells him he is going to be laid up for that period or longer. Note too that if he can manage to keep the fast on other nights he can receive Holy Communion oftener than twice a week and use his privilege. Thus perhaps on Monday and Tuesday and Wednesday nights he does not take any drink after midnight. On each of the following mornings he can go to Holy Communion. If he takes drink now on Thursday and Friday he can still use his privilege as a sick man.

It is also to be stated that one can always avail of “new time” in computing the hour of midnight. At present we are one hour and twentyfive minutes “ahead of the sun.” Consequently a man may take food up till twenty-five minutes * See “Heaven Open to All,” by Fr. Halpin, S.J. (“Irish Messenger” Office, ad.). past one A.M. and receive Holy Communion at Mass that same morning.

What is to be said about smoking before receiving Holy Communion? It does not break the fast and therefore need not prevent you from going. But, as an act of reverence and self-denial you are to be recommended to abstain.

Having dealt with those who neglect this great antidote out of carelessness and also with those who refrain from Holy Communion through a false conscience, it remains that a word be said about those who actually do receive Our Lord frequently and yet, it would seem, do not reap the grand effects set forth in the beginning of this paper. Perhaps you have heard it said that sin was never more prevalent and yet the crowds at the altar rails were never so big. You have our magnificent First Fridays, our Mission and Retreat Communions, our Sodalities and Confraternities with their regular reception of Holy Communion. And yet, in spite of all his there are such terrifying stories abroad about sin and laxity of every kind. What is wrong? If Holy Communion is so frequent and yet crime so common can it be affirmed that the Gift is such a sovereign remedy after all? An anecdote or two will help with the answer.

Mass was just over in the small country Church on Sunday morning. I was kneeling in the organ gallery and I noted with joy that large numbers approached the altar for Holy Communion. It was a grand sight. Especially was I edified by the big number of young men who drew near to receive Our Lord and returned with hands devoutly joined to their places. Such fine numbers and such reverence-but, in less than five minutes after the priest had left the altar the Church was practically empty. I saw one man and his wife and child remain some considerable time in thanksgiving. Here and there an isolated person, mostly women and girls, stayed on. But the vast bulk of that crowd had vanished. Out of that big number it was literally true that scarcely a dozen in all remained behind to thank Him for His Gift for even ten minutes.

Three young girls, aged about eighteen or nineteen, came running to Mass. The priest was distributing Holy Communion. The girls had been chatting and joking right up to the Church door.

Then a hurried splash of holy water and a quick glance towards the altar. Yes. They were in time. There were still two or three people waiting for Holy Communion so our three little friends almost ran up the Church, fell on their knees at the altar steps, and, all flushed and breathless, received Holy Communion.

The little lad had served my Mass with becoming attention and precision. Each morning during the retreat he had presented himself at the usual time for Holy Communion. We came back together into the sacristy about six or seven minutes later. During that few minutes he had been occupied with his duties as server and could have scarcely done more than mumble an aspiration or two. Immediately on reaching the sacristy he pulled off his little cassock and was gone. What of his thanksgiving? He just didn’t make one.

On the last day of the retreat, when I knew that I should not be saying Mass there again next morning I asked him if he had ever been told about thanksgiving after Holy Communion. Ever been taught that it was usual to spend at least a quarter of an hour thanking Our Lord and asking Him for the graces we need? He was a fine youngster and I believe he answered me truthfully. No. He was quite sure he had never been told about that quarter of an hour. And where was he going to school? It is hardly for me to tell you! But he told me and his answer surprised me.

A few years ago the Sacred Congregation of the Sacraments issued an instruction about frequent and daily Holy Communion. Those who promote this most praiseworthy habit are warned to impress on their disciples the need for care concerning the conditions necessary for worthy reception of this most Holy Sacrament. Anything like “dragooning” people into going to Holy Communion is severely reprobated. Setting too much store on mere numbers is much to be blamed.

It is not mere numbers that the Church wants. It is not mere routine reception of Holy Communion that will work in souls the wonders outlined above. Are we allowing our young folk to dash up and dash down without a word of preparation and thanksgiving? Are we stressing .the actual reception of Holy Communion to the detriment of the need of approaching this most Holy Sacrament with due reverence, and employing our quarter of an hour afterwards in some effort to thank Our Lord? Are we guilty ourselves of this want of proper dispositions? If we are, let us not seek farther for an answer to our query. Holy Communion does not work like a charm, a talisman.

Yes, we thank the Lord with a full and grateful heart for those First Fridays and those packed altar rails, but once again let us not rest on our oars. The mere mechanical reception is not enough.

We have to bring proper dispositions, not adequate indeed for that is impossible, but at least that measure of adequacy which our poverty can supply.

Attentive, fervent Holy Communion is what the Pope is pleading for. That too is what will bring those grand effects spoken of. It is what Jesus Christ has a right to expect from us. Is He receiving it?

That flippancy shows itself in another way too. From time to time one comes across a disgusting sentimentality in this matter of receiving the Sacraments, especially Holy Communion. Let me explain. You have a young person making the nine Fridays, or a member of the Confraternity. Of course, nothing would induce them to omit the Confraternity Holy Communion, or to “break” the Fridays. But side by side with that resolve, excellent in itself, you have that person living in a free proximate occasion of serious sin. Have they the remotest notion of breaking that? Not they! They quite possibly have arranged to go back to it that very night, albeit to watch their pious attitude now you would think them fit to be classed with the saints. Or they are living beyond their means, indulging every extravagant whim, having outgrown, of course, the old-fashioned idea of paying their bills!

There is a want of solidity in their religion. Let the Almighty accommodate Himself and His Laws to their way of thinking and they will willingly serve Him! They like to “feel” holy, and Holy Communion gives them that feeling, especially if these is some favourite hymn played and sung well at the time. But as for changing their lives, or breaking off that occasion of sin, or paying what they owe! Does it cross their mind that mere sentiment is no service? That this lip-service is a mockery? That true religion is that which makes a person order his life as God means it to be ordered? Feeling may come or go, but the true servant of God is not swayed by it. He is loyal especially in times of stress. And if he sees clearly that his life is out of joint with the teaching of Christ then he resolves, and at least tries sincerely, to change what is amiss. And it is that sincerity and consistency that draws down abundant blessings on him when he receives Holy Communion.

So it is not mere numbers that Christ wants. He complains, indeed, that there are many who abandon Him, but in those who do draw near Him He surely has a right to look for proper dispositions. It is a catastrophe if even those who do come think lightly of the supreme and sacred act they are performing.

“As He entered into a certain town there met Him ten men who were lepers, who stood afar off. And lifted up their voices saying “Jesus, Master, have mercy on us.” Whom when He saw He said “Go, show yourselves to the priests.” And it came to pass that as they went they were made clean. And one of them when he saw that he was made clean went back, with a loud voice glorifying God. And he fell on his face before His feet, giving thanks and this was a Samaritan. And Jesus answering said: “Were not ten made clean and where are the nine? There is no one found to return and give glory to God but this stranger”“.

That complaint was wrung from the Sacred Heart by the evident ingratitude of the nine. Would you accuse those we speak of of base ingratitude towards Christ for the Gift of Himself in the Blessed Eucharist? I leave the answer to yourself, especially if you must number yourself amongst those who rush up and rush down without preparation or thanksgiving. Base ingratitude, perhaps no. But lack of a deep spirit of solid piety, lamentable want of the spirit of faith, yes. And it is this want that atrophies the effects of Holy Communion.

If you place a wet log on the fire it will not light until the moisture is first expelled. If you sit on a hillside in summer before a beautiful panorama you won’t appreciate the beauty unless you open your eyes. If you are gasping with thirst you won’t assuage it by simply feeling that you have drunk a glass of spring water. In all these cases where there is question of producing heat, or enjoying the lovely landscape, or easing your thirst, you have to secure cooperation. You must place the log to be dried. You must use your eyes and you must raise the glass to your lips and drink.

In much the same way there has to be co-operation between Our Lord and yourself when you meet in Holy Communion. All the treasures on earth are useless unless they can be enjoyed. All the “unsearchable riches of Christ” will not enrich your soul unless you come to receive Christ with proper dispositions and try to realise what you are about.

One is inclined to pursue this matter further and to ask: “Do they know Christ at all, these people we have in mind? “Generally they know a fair amount about the doctrines of His Church. Often they can rattle off definitions for you about the matter and form of a sacrament, the impediments of marriage, the essentials of an act of perfect contrition. All excellent things to know. Often they can give you dates at will; they can tell the year of the definition of such and such a dogma, when this Council assembled and when it dispersed and why. No one has any quarrel with dates and dogma, of course.

But is the complaint justified which one often hears made up and down the country, and bitterly made, by those who have to teach religion, that so much time is consumed and so much energy expended in hammering dates and figures and facts into the heads of children that there is none left for Christ Himself? Is there a danger that Christ and His lovableness are obscured if not entirely lost amidst this maze of facts that have to be marshalled round about Him?

A little Irish girl aged twenty came some time ago to speak to her parish priest. She declared in all seriousness that she was in love with an atheist and a foreigner whom she had picked up during his week or two while the boat he belonged to was alongside. At first the priest treated the tale as a joke and laughed at her. But she meant business and had come to see what arrangements could be made about the marriage. Then the priest remonstrated. Did she not know what the Church taught about the evils of mixed marriages? Did she never learn at school about the impediments? He was met with a toss of the head and a breezy: “O, of course, Father. But then we all looked upon that as just useful for the exams!”

Is our religious training superficial? Is our programme too crowded? If reception of the all-holy and all-loving God in Holy Communion is fast becoming mechanical is it because we do not teach our children the reality of that holiness and that love and that lovableness? Have we to admit that they know not Christ Himself even if they do know quite a lot about Him ?

Let me borrow here, with permission, an idea propounded by a priest for his children. He explains to them that the suffix “een” signifies a small person who has not yet fully grown up. Thus Maureen is the growing girl, while Maire is generally the girl who has attained to maturity. In the same way Christ is our Elder Brother. He has attained to full stature. He is grown up. And what are we? Each of us is a Christ-een-a little Christ, “growing up in Christ” as St. Paul expresses it. One can see at a glance what wonderful developments this beautiful idea is capable of, how it can be made to serve as a foundation on which to build deep love for that Elder Brother. In this way the child comes to regard Our Lord as an intimate Friend, one of the family, and each Holy Communion welds the more closely the bond of love between the two. And is not this to teach religion? Is it not the burden of St. Paul’s wonderful epistles?

Let us teach them Christ Our Lord-what manner of Man He was; what He thought about current problems, about war, and money-making and pleasure-seeking ; what He loved and valued ; how His conduct was ever consistent with His teaching, for “He began to do and to teach.” Then let them understand something about sanctifying grace, that marvellous gift which makes the human soul His Tabernacle. “I live, now not I, but Christ liveth in me.”

The life of Christ is to expand more and more in that soul and the barriers are broken down by self-sacrifice. According as the divine life expands within, it manifests itself more and more in one’s external conduct so that the child becomes like the Elder Brother even in his way of speaking and acting and judging. The great question always is: What would Christ say to this ? How would He answer? How would He behave in these circumstances?

Comprehensus sum a Christo Jesu. He grows more and moreinto the soul of the child. He becomes the child’s greater self. Is this teaching religion? Granted that a course on these lines may not have some of the advantages of another course. Granted that the child may know less about definitions and dates and facts and figures. Granted that he may not shine in an examination where theory supersedes practice. But would it be worth the price if he were thus led to a closer and more intimate knowledge of the love and lovableness of Jesus Christ?

And if our children grew up in Christ in this way and advanced each day in a personal love of Him would not that love be bound to affect their attitude towards Holy Communion ? Our Lord complained at the Supper Table that even His own did not know Him. “So long a time have I been with you and you have not known Me?” And lifting up His eyes He declared that this is eternal life that “they may know Thee, the one true God, and Jesus Christ Whom Thou hast sent.” Are we doing our part to acquire that knowledge and to impart it to others?

Small wonder that, without this knowledge, when they approach Him they develop the slipshod habit of coming without preparation and running away without thanksgiving. Small wonder that the evil habit contracted in childhood sets firmer as the years of youth and adolescence come on. Small wonder that the Christ, looking out over the empty Church is forced to ask: “Where are the nine? Does only one in ten understand what Holy Communion is? Does only one in ten appreciate this Gift of God for what it is? Does only one in ten know Christ and nine in ten know merely about Him? One in ten! And where are the nine?”

Nihil Obstat:

Carolus Doyle, S.J., Censor Theol. Deput.

Imprimi Potest:

@ JOANNES CAROLUS Archiep. Dublinen., Hiberniae Primas. DUBLINI, die 27 Maii, I941

********

Tell Her You’re A Catholic

BY WALTER JEWELL

INDEX

I

John looked at his watch impatiently. He really couldn’t wait for Freddie much longer. The restaurant was getting crowded, and it would be awkward to hold a vacant seat indefinitely. He would allow him another ten minutes and then give it up. But well before that time elapsed, Freddie burst through the swing doors, and after a quick glance round dashed in the direction of his friend’s table. He had a distracted air, and was in a great hurry. Neither of those factors need bring trouble, but their combination is disastrous. Freddie’s foot came down heavily on a large cat reclining half-way under one of the tables. There was a howl and a succession of spittings as the unfortunate animal scuffled into safety. Freddie, losing his balance, brought his hand down sharply on the edge of a bowl of soup, overturning the contents neatly into the lap of a lady who was preparing to receive it internally.

John went rapidly to his friend’s assistance. After a confused medley of complaints, criticisms, the fetching of cloths, profound apologies and cat-soothings, he managed to conduct Freddie to the peace of his own table. He had by now decided to forgo his other engagement, Freddie was haggard as well as distrait, and clearly needed some close attention.

After a few moments necessary to recovery, Freddie began to explain.

“The fact is, I’m going to get married,” he began.

“My dear chap, I’m delighted, but . . “

“Oh yes, I know, it’s no reason for behaving like a bulldozer. But it’s a jolly awkward situation, and I can’t get my mind away from it.”

“Tell me all,” said John. “It might save you from walking through a shop window at all events. Who’s the lady?” “Celia Thompson,” said Freddie reverently. “She joined the firm last autumn. I didn’t have much to do with her until the Chief decided 1 needed some help in costing, God bless him. It’s been wonderful working with her. She’s got a such decided way with her, and she’s made me do lots of things that have worked out marvellously well. I’ve tried sometimes to think of life without her, and it looks the dreariest thing imaginable. She’s the only possible girl for me.”

“Well, then, what’s the trouble? Doesn’t she want you, or don’t her people like you? “

“No trouble either way. It’s all that business about the promises.”

“Oh hang it all,” cried John. “ Why couldn’t she turn out to be a Catholic? “

“Well, that wasn’t my fault,” snapped Freddie peevishly. “When you love a girl the way I love Celia, there’s no more to be said. God always knew our paths would cross, and there’s no sense in resisting . . “

“Freddie,” said John, firmly, “don’t talk piffle!”

“Eh!”

“Piffle. Of course God always knew your paths would cross, but He’s left you with a mind and will of your own.

You’re not fated to marry anyone. For goodness’ sake love like a Christian, not a fatalist.”

Freddie looked at him steadily, and with some anger.

“Do you mean that I should give her up?” he asked slowly. But John was not yet prepared for that challenge. “I only mean,” he replied, “ that you must look at this thing freely. What does Celia think about the promises?” “I haven’t plucked up enough courage to mention them yet.” “Oh, come . . .”

“You don’t know Celia. She’s got independent views, and wouldn’t agree to a set of conditions. Besides, she is a wonderful girl, and it’s simply amazing that she gives me a second thought. How can 1 lay down terms and conditions to her?”

John pondered. It was all very well, he thought ruefully, to give difficult advice for another man to carry out. Besides, one look at his friend’s face convinced him that he would meet with all the strange obstinacy of a weak man if he said what was certainly in his mind.

“What is Celia’s religion?” he asked.

“She’s got her own ideas about that. She thinks it doesn’t . . .”

“Oh yes, I think I know. It doesn’t really matter what Church you belong to or what you believe. It’s what you do that counts. You can worship God just as well in a meadow, and anyway, we’re all going the same way home.”

Freddie was a little slow in some things.

“That’s right,” he said, “but how on earth . . .”

“It’s all right, old son. I’ve heard it all before. What does she feel about Catholicism?”

“Rather interested, I think. But I’m sure she won’t take the promises. Everything will seem so one-sided to her. The religious ceremony must be before a Catholic Priest only. She must do nothing to draw me away from the Faith, although I have to bring her into the Church if I possibly can. And all the children have to be brought up as Catholics, whatever she feels about it. A Catholic understands, of course, but it seems a terrific lot to ask from the other party. Surely it would be better to have some sort of understanding between the two of them? “

John leaned back and lit a pipe.

“I’ve been into this question once or twice,” he said. “If you like, I’ll try to explain.”

“Right you are,” agreed Freddie, rather moodily.”Go ahead.”

“Well,” said John slowly, “it’s like this. Any marriage between a Catholic and a non-Catholic involves a possible danger to faith. If that danger is real and obvious, the marriage IS forbidden by Divine Law. If it’s just a general possibility, then it’s forbidden by the Canon Law of the Church.”

“But does that make any practical difference? I mean, if it’s forbidden anyway . . .”

“The difference is that in the first case there’s no possibility of a dispensation. Where there is clear danger, God Himself says “No”. We mustn’t endanger the gift of faith, The Church can’t dispense with the laws of God, and, of course, she doesn’t want to. In a case like that. the non-Catholic might sign all the promises in creation, but no union could be allowed.”

“I don’t see that,” objected Freddie. “If a man really loves his faith, why should an unsuitable marriage make him want to give it up?”

“It’s a question of the intimacy of married life. Marriage is a union of minds, you know, before anything else. Suppose a Catholic was allowed to marry a girl who really hated the Catholic Faith and the things it stood for. He would soon find himself faced with two very unpleasant alternatives. He could stand up and fight, as he ought, and make a battle-field of his home. It would mean an end of the intimacy, and would be terribly difficult if he loved her. But the only other course would be to hoist up the white flag, and lapse from the Faith.”

“Oh well,” said Freddie. “If there’s any particular danger in my marrying Celia, I don’t know what it is. So if only she would sign the promises we could go ahead with the Church’s blessing.”

“I’m afraid you couldn’t.”

Freddie stared.

“But if there’s no danger,” he began.

“If there’s no particular reason to suspect danger,’’ said John, picking his words carefully,”you may be able to go ahead but not with the Church’s blessing. Canon Law is completely against mixed marriages. When one is allowed it is never a matter of blessing, or even approval. It is just dispensation and toleration. The Church can relax her own laws, and given a grave reason, together with the promises, may open a door that she would rather see closed,”

“But why would she rather see it closed,” persisted Freddie, “when there’s no harm that anyone can see? We can’t spend our lives running away from shadows.”

“A shadow is always cast by something, you know. Everything might appear to be plain sailing, but there an hidden dangers in a mixed marriage like submerged rocks in the sea.”

“It doesn’t follow that I shall strike one of them. Surely in the majority of cases things turn out quite happily?”

“I hate to sound so gloomy but in many cases things turn out badly. That’s just the trouble. Father Selby was talking about it only last week. There is always the danger that the Catholic party will get slack about going to Mass. Sometimes the children are not sent to Catholic schools. Some are not even baptized. In so many cases mixed marriages leave behind a long trail of wrecked happiness and faith . . .”

“What I can’t understand,” interrupted Freddie frowning, “is why, if there’s a struggle, the Catholic should nearly always go to the wall. Why shouldn’t we win most of the time? We have a better idea where we stand.”

‘‘ Yes, but it’s always an unequal struggle for the Catholic.”

“Why?”

“Because all the effort is on his side. Take your own case, for instance. Celia is more or less an indifferentist in religion. That means she won’t need to go to Church before breakfast on a Sunday morning, or even to go at all unless she feels like it. She won’t have to bother about regular morning and night prayers, confession, fasting or abstinence. You have a definite way of life-she follows the mood of the moment. There’s always a strong tendency in human nature to give things up and let them go, and it’s all on the side of the non-Catholic who has less obligations. There’s nothing equal about a struggle like that.”

“Still, the nonCatholic may not intend to interfere . . .”

“It’s not always easy to avoid it. All sorts of difficulties arise. It’s very distracting to pray under the curious eyes of a non-Catholic who probably says her own prayers in bed. Then some arrangement has to be made about Holy Communion. Is the non-Catholic to wait for the Catholic’s return, or are there to be two breakfasts? Apart from that there’s the question of Catholic Action. Not all the work of the Church can be done by priests and religious, and every day it becomes more necessary for the rest of us to pull our weight in this sad world. A Catholic couple can always manage it because their sympathies are in common. But in a mixed marriage there’s always the danger of the Church being regarded as a sort of rival, and resented as such.”

“You’re not very encouraging, are you?”

“I’m sorry, Freddie,” said John, with very real regret “I wish you all the happiness in the world, but that involves other things. It really would seem, where the non-Catholic promises full liberty to the Catholic to practise the Faith, and agrees that the children shall go the same way, that the main dangers have been sufficiently removed. But promises aren’t easy to keep, you know. They’re made in one set of circumstances, and have to be kept in another. Once the marriage has taken place the only safeguard is honour, and it doesn’t do to have too lofty a view of human nature. The mixed marriage promises are a big undertaking, and you may find that Celia is too straightforward to make them because they are rather more than she can guarantee.”

Freddie’s face cleared a little.

“I understand how you feel about this,” he said. “I expect you know the general view and the official figures. But the point is that you don’t know Celia. She is not a danger to my faith. She believes in God all right, and she isn’t a bit unfriendly to the Church. To see me lapse from it wouldn’t please her at all,”

Freddie paused, but as John made no reply, he pressed home his attack.

“Why didn’t you advise me to give her up?” he asked, with unexpected shrewdness.

“Perhaps I should have done.”

“No,” said Freddie,” you realized that it was asking too much of human nature. It would be unreasonable to expect it. Why should 1 go through life without the girl I love? This is a matter for my own future, and I must settle it my own way.”

John was a good friend, and for that very reason he struck at his friend’s weakness.

“When are you going to tell Celia about the promises?” he asked.

Freddie flushed, but when he looked at the other’s face his anger subsided. He saw nothing there but the sheerest friendliness, and no trace of a desire to score a debating point.

“You’ll have to do it some time,” added John gently. “Why not make it tonight? Every day will make things rather more awkward for you, and she’s not likely to blame you for saying what has to be said.”

Freddie thought for awhile, and then straightened himself.

“All right,” he said, “I will. As a matter of fact, I’m due to call for her in about ten minutes. I”11 put it to her right away.”

John rather doubted this, but hoped that Freddie would manage it during the evening.

II

“I never knew anything like it,” declared Celia, passing a sandwich.

Her friend Margaret dissociated the remark from the sandwich, and asked demurely : “How did he lead up to it?”

It was a glorious day, and the two girls were lunching in the Park. They were by no means the least attractive part of the scenery.

“That’s the funny part about it,” declared Celia, throwing bread to an interested swan. “I could see that he had something on his mind all the evening. But he kept talking about all the usual things until it was nearly time to go home. Then he came out with the most extraordinary things. It was about our marriage, he said. There were some religious difficulties, but they could be got over. He hoped I wouldn’t mind making a few promises, because his Church would insist upon it. First of all, he would have to have complete freedom to practise his faith, and I must do nothing to influence him away from it”

“Would you want to?” asked her friend curiously.

“Of course not. That was what made me so furious. Freddie could go to Mass every day if he wanted to, although I wouldn’t let him go out without breakfast. He isn’t strong, you know. I”d even go with him sometimes, especially to High Mass. Of course, I would expect a little give and take,”

“How do you mean?”

“Well, I like to go up to Westminster Abbey sometimes for Evensong, and I should want him to come with me. That couldn’t possibly hurt him. I haven’t any very definite ideas about religion, and he could do as he liked. There’s only one thing-I”d discourage him from going to Confession.”

“Why on earth?” gasped Margaret,

“Well, he has got an inferiority complex about him, and I want him to stand on his own two feet. I know you’re Catholic yourself, and I don’t want to annoy you. I’ve nothing against people going to Confession in the ordinary way, but I’m perfectly sure it isn’t good for Freddie.”

Margaret turned her eyes away from the lake, much to the annoyance of the swan, who had been making overtures, and looked her friend in the face. She did not like arguments, but there seemed to be no escaping this one.

“Celia, she said slowly, “this is ridiculous.”

“Yes, isn’t it?”

“I mean your attitude. It’s impossible. I know Freddie Rookham. He’s a Catholic, and a good one. He’ll want to go to Holy Communion regularly, which means going out before breakfast. And I’m sure he wouldn’t go to Evensong with you. Catholics believe that Christ Our Lord founded one Church for all time, and that it’s the home of grace and truth. Why should Freddie worship anywhere else? As for Confession, it’s not just a spiritual exercise which he could take or leave. It’s a part of the Catholic way of life,”

Rather to her surprise, Celia was not in the least annoyed.

“I’m sorry,” she said contritely. “I know you Catholics feel rather strongly about things like that but you must see for yourself how one-sided these promises are. I asked Freddie if he was supposed to influence me at all. He said “Well, yes, I have to bring you into the Church if I can.’ Just imagine me listening to him for hours, and saying nothing in reply!”

Margaret laughed.

“Don’t be silly,” she said, “It doesn’t mean that. You would have to allow Freddie full liberty, and not try to draw him away from his faith. If he converted you it would be by setting a good example, for the most part. You’d follow your own conscience, of course, but there’s one situation you would always have to accept, Freddie is a Catholic. His home must be Catholic too, and . . “

“Yes, I know, the children! All of them to be brought up and educated as Catholics. You must admit that the whole thing is one-sided.”

“It is one-sided,” said Margaret. “Marriage isn’t a football-match.”

“But why should Catholicism hold all the field?”

“Because it’s the truth,” said Margaret spiritedly. “The truth ought to hold everything. If you were a teacher, you wouldn’t let someone come in and teach your class that the earth was flat, and the multiplication table ought to be taken with a pinch of salt. You can’t split a child’s mind between truth and error.”

“It’s only your opinion, that it’s the truth.’

“Well, if it’s our opinion, we must act upon it.”

“Look here,” said Celia, after a pause. “I’m officially Church of England. Why shouldn’t my people, or the Non- Conformists, for that matter, make conditions for their members when Catholics want to marry them?”

“Well,” challenged Margaret, “why don’t they?”

Celia, a little surprised at the return of the question, thoughtfully threw a stone into the lake. The swan returned hopefully, and Margaret went on.

“If they felt really sure of their ground, don’t you think they would? If religion was as certain to them as to the Catholic, wouldn’t they want to protect their people from us?”

“I don’t know how certain they are, because I”m not certain myself,” said Celia composedly. “I can’t see anything really definite about religion, and I don’t expect other people to.”

“But you want to marry a man who does.” pointed out Margaret.

“ Yes, and goodness knows, he can go his own way. 1 love him too much to want to upset his peace of mind. As for the children . . .”

“Yes?” asked Margaret quickly.

“I shouldn’t interfere with them. I don’t believe in it. I think we ought to leave them alone, and not cram them with our ideas. It would be nice to see them saying their prayers, but they could make up their minds about dogma when they are old enough,”

Margaret shook her head decisively.

“It isn’t good enough,” she said.

“But what in the world do you expect? “

“ Don’t you see that in bringing up the children as Catholics, Freddie will need your help, to put it mildly? They ask questions, you know.”‘

“Oh, of course, children ought to be encouraged to talk,”

“They need precious little encouragement. Most of them talk all the time. They ask ultimate things, too. Most of the questions would come to you while Freddie was away at the office. You say you wouldn’t interfere. But what about the dresses and veils for First Communion and Confirmation? What about getting them off to Mass on Holydays and fixing up a Catholic school? You couldn’t just leave everything to Freddie.”

“I might do all sorts of things when it came to the point,” said Celia easily, “but I’m not going to promise anything. I like Catholicism-flowers, incense, processions and all that-but I’m not going to keep my ideas in the lumber room and give Freddie’s religion the free run of the house.”

“If you really feel that way about it, any Catholic would respect you and understand. But the Church has to protect the marriage of a Catholic, and would insist on the promises, if you married him.”

“So Freddie said, but it’s nonsense. There must be some way out of it. It finally came out that a friend of his, John Heywood, put him up to all this. Freddie is going to take me to see him tonight. I”11 give him dispensations, tolerations, undertakings and promises! Pass another sandwich, there’s a dear.”

Margaret’s face reddened.

“I say, I’m awfully sorry, that blessed swan has had the last one. I didn’t realise what I was doing.”

“Oh well, it’s time 1 was moving,” said Celia philosophically. And the two girls rose and sauntered through the sunshine to the park gates.

Suddenly Celia said, “You’re not really happy about all this, are you?”

“Well, no, I can’t pretend I am.”

“Do you think I ought to give him up?”

Women are frequently more courageous than men. “Yes,” said Margaret simply.

“But surely you can see that when a girl loves a man, she must do something about it?”

“Oh yes, but it doesn’t follow that she must give herself to him.”

“That’s all very well,” said Celia vigorously, “but would you give up a man you loved because he was a nonCatholic?”

“Well, I did once, you know,” said Margaret, rather hesitatingly,

“I never heard about it.”

“No, 1 never let it go far enough. It was a couple of years ago, and you haven’t met him anyway. But I loved him all right, and I knew he wanted me. I hoped against hope that the Faith might win him, but it was so obvious that he wasn’t nearly ready for that. There are so many snags in a mixed marriage, that I wouldn’t encourage him. But it meant a pretty bad time for a few weeks.”

“Why only a few weeks?”

“It was easier after that because of something that came out quite by chance. A group of us were talking about the size of families, and the difficulties people have under present conditions. He turned out to be quite a pessimist, and thought that no one ought to have more than one child.”

“But he might have changed his mind about that. People say these things, but if he was in a sound position . . .”

“That wasn’t all. When you do have to be careful about children, there are two ways of doing it. There’s the decent, natural way of self-control-and there’s the other. He preferred the other.”

“Oh, I see,” said Celia slowly. “I know you Catholics hate that sort of thing, and 1 don’t care for the idea myself. Perhaps you werewell out of it. It’s essential to have a proper understanding before getting married.”

“Talking of that,” said Margaret, “did you tell Freddie what you thought about going out before breakfast, and Evensong and Confession?”

“Well, no, it is a little difficult, and I don’t want to upset him. There’s time enough for all that after we’re married. For goodness’ sake give that conscience of yours a rest. We’ll find a way out somehow.”

Celia’s voice was becoming just a little sharp, and Margaret decided, rightly or wrongly, to let the matter drop for the present. At the gates the two girls parted company, but instead of going straight home as she had intended, Margaret walked quickly to a little Catholic church in the vicinity to spend ten minutes before the Blessed Sacrament.

She did not like the look of things at all.

Celia made her threatened descent upon John that evening with an anxious Freddie in tow. John, who had been expecting a lonely evening, was pleasantly surprised, though a little tense. He did not fail to notice Celia’s attractiveness, nor the fact that her very assertiveness carried its own charm. Celia found him likeable, and soon the conversation was on an easy footing. It turned to the prospective nuptials.

“What I can’t understand about you Catholics,” said Celia, “is your attitude to danger. No one could say that you were timid. You stand against the world on some things, and you don’t seem to mind being unpopular. And yet you’re simply terrified of your people marrying non-Catholics. I can see that there might be what you would call perversion in some cases. But good heavens, everything is a risk nowadays, and you can’t expect marriage to be any different!”

John filled his pipe slowly. He rather liked this sort of thing.

“The question of what risks we ought to take is a curious little problem,” he said. “We certainly can’t live without incurring danger, and we shouldn’t live long if we ignored it. Perhaps it’s difficult to make a precise rule, but a pretty sound guide is the word “proportion.’”

“Yes, but what proportion?” murmured Celia, a little amused by this opening.

“That’s the whole point,” went on John, unabashed. “if for example, a man gives his life to get a woman out of a burning house, then we say he has made a great sacrifice. He has taken a grave risk, and it has gone against him. But as his object was to save another human life, the risk was well in proportion. But suppose he took the same chance with the idea of saving a pet dog. In that case, the risk would be out of all proportion, and his life would have been thrown away on something comparatively trifling.”

“But he might feel even more affection for the dog,” put in Celia facetiously.

“Feelings don’t come into it. It is a fact that a human life is worth more than all the dogs in creation, and something very great has been given for something very small”

Celia wrinkled her nose somewhat.

“All right,” she said, “but I still don’t see . .”

“Well, notice what would happen in a mixed marriage where the risk was really grave. The parties would hope for a lifetime of married happiness. For this, the Catholic would pay the price of his faith, which is the first essential step on the road to eternal happiness. The children, who belong to the purpose of marriage, would be brought up in divided faith, or more probably, no faith at all. The risk would be out of all proportion.”

“But is faith really so important as all that?” put in Celia. “Surely it’s what you do that matters.”

“The truth is,” returned John, “that we are not made for ourselves, but for God. What we have to do is to prepare for the intimate knowledge and love of God in Heaven. Faith in this life is the beginning of all that. God expects us to believe in Him and all the various things He has made known, which include our own purpose. That’s why nothing can justify a Catholic in exposing his faith to peril. There is no proportion because nothing could be worth such a price. Faith is God’s light in a dark world.”

“And I suppose,” said Celia impatiently, “that it might not shine in a mixed marriage because there are too many draughts to put it out. If faith is a gift of God, it doesn’t seem a very substantial one.”

“There’s nothing wrong with the gifts of God,” replied John, quite coolly. “But there’s something wrong with our fallen natures which have to respond to them. And it’s not so much a question of a draught. It’s a matter of a persistently unfriendly atmosphere in the very heart of married life. Given those circumstances, the flame could very easily die out.”

“Yes, but look here,” said Freddie, rousing himself, “surely a man can counteract that sort of thing? I mean, he could go off to his Mass and Confession, and keep up his practice generally, even if the atmosphere at home was antiCatholic.”

“He could, but he would have to fight for his faith in his own home and among his own family. Not a very happy state of affairs, surely? Generally speaking, a Catholic has to put up with an alien atmosphere whilst he’s away at work. He finds it difficult to talk easily and naturally in the office about matters of religion when the topic comes up. When he gets back to his own hearth and home, it ought to be a return to the atmosphere of his faith, so that it’s home in the full sense. If he has to come back to a hostile camp, is it so very surprising that he lapses, human nature being what it is?”

“The situation can’t be so bad is all that,” said Celia, “or your Church wouldn’t allow so many dispensations.”

“Quite often it isn’t,” said John, “If a marriage is seen to be dangerous, then it mustn’t happen. In other cases, faith doesn’t appear to be threatened, and the promises are readily made . . .”

“And very onesided they are!”

“The Church can’t possibly arrange this sort of thing upon equal terms. Where you have two hostile atmospheres, you won’t find them mingling together happily. One of them will displace the other. In the case of yourself and Freddie, the atmosphere of the home will either be Catholic or indifferentist. The children will either go to Mass or be little agnostics. That consideration is before the Church when she makes her laws about marriage.”

“That’s a queer habit you Catholics have,” murmured Celia, “referring to the Church “she.’ I never could get used to it.”

Oh, that just presses the fact that the Church is the Bride of Christ and the Mother of us all. Being a mother, she can’t possibly ignore the truth that a mixed marriage is a risky road for one of her children to tread. Her law really forbids them to go that way at all.”

“I’ll ask you again,” said Celia. “If that’s true, then why all these dispensations?”

For just a moment, John hesitated, and then decided that this was no time for diffidence.

“It’s to avoid greater evils,” he said, rather gruffly.

Celia flushed. She was not a girl who liked being tolerated. In his corner Freddie stirred uncomfortably, opened his mouth and closed it again.

“I’m sorry,” said John, “but that really is the situation. When Catholics marry non-Catholics, there’s no escaping the fact that they run counter to the advice of the Church. When for a serious reason she allows them to do it, they stand in very particular need of her protection, both for themselves and for their children. Hence the promises.”

“I can only say,” said Celia, in a rather steely voice, “that they’re not at all necessary so far as I am concerned. Freddie needs no protection from me. I like Catholicism, and wouldn’t dream of interfering “

“Sorry to interrupt,” put in John briskly, “but in that case, don’t you think it would be a good idea to get some instruction in the Faith? It wouldn’t commit you in the slightest degree, and at the very least it would give you a better idea of your own position. No one would want you to enter the Church for Freddie’s sake, but if Catholicism really appeals to you, you owe it to yourself to get a rather closer view.”

Celia shook her head.

“No,” she said, “you’re going a little too fast. It’s only one or two things here and there that appeal to me. There’s the Nuptial Mass, for instance. 1 went to one last year, and it is a thrilling thing to have when you get married. I’ve been looking forward for months to having one with Freddie.”

A gasp she heard from Freddie and something she read in John’s face checked her abruptly.

“What in the world,” she asked slowly, “is the matter now?”

“I ought to explain at once,” said John seriously, “that as far as a mixed marriage is concerned, there’s no possible chance of a Nuptial Mass.”

Celia began to look really annoyed. John decided that he had better go on.

“Whatever the Church may think of the individual non-Catholic,” he said, “a mixed marriage is no occasion for rejoicing. In the very best cases something of the full beauty of Christian marriage has to be lost, and farther down the scale there is disappointment and tragedy. The Church knows that and expresses it in her silence. There must be no Nuptial Mass.”

Celia turned to her lover.

“Freddie,” she said, “didn’t you know about this?”

“Well, yes,” said Freddie awkwardly. “But there didn’t seem to be any point in bringing it up.”

“And do you mind?” she asked, with very great gentleness.

“Well, I suppose I do really, but-” Freddie’s voice trailed of helplessly. He could never think of that bleak, short ceremony-that ghost of a richer thing-without a real pang at heart.

Celia turned again to John, and for the third time within two days came the crucial question.

“Do you really think that we should give each other up?”

John thought rapidly. He had evaded this question once, and was not impressed with the result. He threw caution to the winds,

“Yes,” he said, “I do. It seems a very unfriendly thing to say, but even with the help of the promises, mixed marriages are a mistake. Marriage is a religious thing, and if the partners have different religions they begin under a cloud. Their happiness is threatened by the very nature of the case?”

Celia looked at him curiously.

“Is that your opinion, or what your Church teaches “ she asked.

“They’re not different things, and even humanly speaking the Church must be right on this question. She doesn’t merely look back to past ages, She was in those ages, twenty centuries of them, and they were part of her life. And she doesn’t just look around the world. She embraces the world, and the experiences of all manner of men become her experience. And with all that behind her, she says to her children : “If you marry, marry a Catholic.’ Do you think it’s really likely that she’s wrong?”

Freddie was about to retort with some heat, but Celia squeezed his arm and replied herself.

“You’ll agree that I’ve been pretty patient,” she said, “and I think I see your point of view. But of course it’s your point of view and not mine. You people are sure that your religion is right, and you base all your laws on that certainty. But I don’t see anything very certain in this world. If I were sure that God had walked the earth, and your Church was the mother of men, I should go your way and there would be nothing to argue about. As it is, it seems that your Church doesn’t want me to marry Freddie, but if I will agree to a set of promises, I may be tolerated. Well, I don’t like being tolerated, and I won’t sign the promises. I’m sorry about this Freddie. I wanted to be married in Church, and with full ceremony too. But we must just face the fact that it’s not to be.”

“But what on earth can we do?” burst out Freddie. Celia looked at him in amazement.

“My dear Freddie,” she said soothingly, “isn’t it obvious? What alternative is there? We shall have to be content with the Registry Office. After all, we shall be married in the sight of God.”

There was a pause. Freddie seemed to be having difficulty in finding words. He found one, however, and that was enough.

“No,” he said.

His tone was absolute, and Celia sat speechless. John sat and watched, not for the first time, a clash between the world and the Church at arms.

Freddie had now found more words, and they emerged.

“You know I love you, Celia, and want more than anything else to marry you. But it’s got to be marriage. If I went along to a Registry Office with you it wouldn’t mean a thing.”

For a moment, Celia looked helplessly at John.

“Freddie’s quite right,” he said. “The Ne Temere Decree in 1908 was very definite. Unless Freddie marries before a Catholic priest the union is invalid.”

Still Celia said nothing. To her dying day she never knew whether at that moment she was more astonished or angry. But in either case she found it a situation beyond words. Freddie, the good natured and easily persuaded, sat looking like a rock, and Celia had seen enough of practising Catholics to know that the road she had chosen was finally closed to her.

After a while she rose and moved to the table, and there was a little rattle as a ring fell. Within a few moments she had left, leaving the two men alone.

Two days later John was back in the restaurant, again waiting for Freddie, and trying to decide how to open the conversation. He was sure he ought to be neither breezy nor solemn, but beyond that he seemed to have no ideas at all.

The swing doors moved, and his friend entered. As he crossed the floor, John was startled to see that he was not resigned but positively jubilant. Neither was he in the least distracted. The cat, with the sublime indifference of her kind, lay in exactly the same position, but was left in peace.

Freddie took a seat and beamed radiantly.

“It’s all right, old man,” he said, without preamble. “Celia’s taking instruction.”

“What!”

“I thought that would shake you,” said Freddie complacently, “but it’s true, She’s arranged to sec Fr Selby twice a week.”

“But only the other night . . .”

“Yes, I know. There wasn’t much sign of it, was there? But I had better tell you the story from the beginning.”

John agreed that he had.

“When Celia left us that night,” said Freddie, “she walked about for half an hour to cool off. Then it suddenly occurred to her to call on Fr Selby, She couldn’t get rid of the idea that somehow those promises might be dispensed with. Fortunately he was at home, and they talked for over an hour. Of course, she didn’t get any change out of him about the promises, but all kinds of other things came up. For instance, she brought up that idea about worshipping God in a meadow, and Fr Selby grinned and asked her how often she did it. That annoyed her rather. She said that she didn’t mean that she went down on her knees among the daisies, but only that you could worship God at any time or place. Fr Selby said of course, but in view of the weakness of human nature, wasn’t it a good idea to have a definite time and place? That rather got under her guard, because she loves order and method. It’s one of the things that she intends to impress upon me.”

“But there must have been more to it than that?”

“Oh, there was, quite a lot. Celia always thought Confession a bit unmanly, but he showed her that it often meant a real effort. And those attractions of hers that she mentioned went rather deeper than either of us imagined. He brought them out.”

“He must be a genius,” said John.

“He’s a marvel,” agreed Freddie. “

But it was only the end of a process, you know. Celia explained it to me. You see, she’s always been used to getting her own way with people, and it surprised her to find four Catholics standing up to her, one after the other, on the marriage question. She was most shaken when I joined the ranks of the opposition, because I’d never denied her anything before. It was then that she started to ask herself what other Church made all those careful laws and provisions about marriage. She remembered what you said about the Church being the universal Mother, and began to feel that she needed something like that herself.”

“I think I see,” said John ; “but suppose she doesn’t go through with it”

She’ll go through with it all right,” said Freddie happily. “Celia only needs to see the Faith, and Fr Selby will make her do that. She loves certainty and confidence, and that’s what the Church will offer her.”

John took a deep breath.

“Well, it’s wonderful,” he said. “1say, Freddie, do you realize what a narrow escape you’ve had?”

“What do you mean exactly?”

“Celia wouldn’t make the promises, because she didn’t feel herself in a position to make guarantees of that kind. But suppose she had been a little less honest and straightforward. Suppose she had taken the promises and quietly forgotten all about them afterwards! It has happened in plenty of other cases, you know. Between your faith and your love you would have been torn to bits!”

Freddie nodded soberly.

“Yes,” he said, “I ought to have made a stand against a mixed marriage from the beginning, All things considered, it simply isn’t worth the risk.”

And both men fell silent, musing not only upon the bright promise of future skies, but also upon that long grey shadow of what might have been.

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Ten Reasons For Being A Catholic

BY REV. F. SIMONS, S.V.D., D.D

INDEX

Only the violent will obtain the kingdom of heaven, Jesus Christ has said. For many people the first act of violence must be to think and reason and tear their minds free from prejudices and half-truths. Even if these unfounded certainties were as dear to them as father and mother, husband or wife, yet to obtain the kingdom of heaven they must leave them behind and follow truth wherever it may lead.

I. PRELIMINARY PRINCIPLES

1. There is a God, of Infinite intelligence and power, Creator of heaven and earth.

2. As our Creator and Lord, God has a right to reveal His will and demand our submission.

3. Such a revelation would be, moreover, an act worthy of His infinite kindness because:

(a) Experience shows that without it even the most intelligent men, as the philosophers of old, utterly fail to agree and find religious truth.

(b) God’s commandments are laws of the greatest importance for the well being of mankind, since they express what His infinite wisdom knows to be necessary or best for men.

(c) On such a revelation, its truth and aids, will largely depend our chances of moral health and ever-lasting salvation.

4. We must demand solid proof that God has spoken, before we can, in reason, submit.

5. This proof can be but real miracles, i.e. such works as are an expression of divine wisdom and power and done to testify to the divine origin and truth of God’s message. No man’s claim to a divine mission can be believed without this sign of divine approval.

6. Of the great religions of mankind the founder of only one, Jesus Christ, can with certainty be proved—from trustworthy historical books and other documents-to have worked such miracles, in large numbers, to prove His mission. Those who quarrel with these preliminary principles are referred to more extensive works of Catholic (or Christian) Apologetics. There they will also find chapter and verse for the proofs given below.-A few words must be added here regarding miracles. Many nowadays deny their possibility and refuse to consider all evidence to the contrary. But surely God, the Creator of heaven and earth remains the master of His own handiwork. As every maker, He can change or destroy it at will. Moreover, the laws of nature, as other laws, are binding only on those who are subject to them. Plants are subject to the laws governing plants. They can, for instance, not leave the spot in which they are rooted to go out for a walk. Man, being superior to plants. is not bound by the same laws. He can not only move himself from place to place, he can also vitally interfere with the life of plants by grafting, pruning, transplanting, or destroying them.-Surely God, the supreme Law-giver is above the laws of all nature made by him. He, therefore, can interfere with them for any good reason. There can be no better one than to prove that He is giving special guidance to His helpless children on earth. Those who deny Him this privilege do not really believe that God is our Father Almighty. They either deny His power or His infinite kindness and mercy.

The Catholic Church has about 400 million followers in the world today. She is mankind’s greatest religion in numbers, geographical spread, and cultural achievement.- She claims to have been commissioned by Christ to safeguard, without error or loss, all those truths and means of grace which Christ has given to enable men to lead a true religious life. She claims to be not only an easier and more certain way to eternal salvation, but the only official one, the one ordained by God for all men, so that all who through their own fault do not belong to her cannot obtain salvation.-How to prove the truth of her claim?

II. TEN ARGUMENTS IN OUTLINE

1. You can fool all people some of the time and some people all the time, but you cannot fool all the people all the time.-The Catholic Church is unyielding in her principles, she prescribes some things which are hard to practise and teaches many doctrines which are hard to believe. In spite of this her claim has been accepted for 1,900 years by the majority of Christians, including very large numbers of intellectuals and many of the best brains of mankind. With this enormous claim she has successfully met the onslaught of centuries of scientific and pseudo-scientific criticism and emerged stronger than ever. If it were untrue it would mean that the Catholic Church had succeeded in achieving the impossible, in what amounts to fooling all the people all the time, and that on extraordinarily hard terms. But such an exacting claim would never have been held by such large numbers of the learned for so many centuries if it were not able to produce positive and convincing proof. (Protestantism, Hinduism, and, to a large extent, Islam, leave their adherents almost completely free to believe what they like. The adherence of their intellectuals is thus a tribute to the lack of restraint and definiteness, not to the reasonableness of these religions. Nor have Hinduism and Islam lived in a critical historical, scientific atmosphere as the Catholic Church has done for centuries.)

2. The Catholic position is held by the only large body of religious experts in the world. Experts are people who- usually after a prolonged general education which develops a critical mind-devote much time and effort to the thorough study of a subject, considering all available evidence and counter-evidence. Above all, they must consider carefully the findings approved by large bodies of specialists. A man who on his own account wants to build a system of medical knowledge or physics or astronomy without seriously considering what has been found and approved by generations of other doctors, physicists, astronomers, cannot succeed in becoming an expert. The same holds good for philosophy and. religion. Though one may claim to have as good a brain as anyone else, experience shows beyond doubt that no great and solid system of knowledge can be constructed without the co-operation of numerous scholars, the test of a long critical examination, and the endorsement by generations of learned men.

Islam has few religious experts, because it has few students of religion with an enlightened and critical sense such as is developed by a good general education. Nor do its scholars generally study the criticism of their system by others. No more has Hinduism, for the same reasons, but also because it consists of a large mass of conflicting opinions and has never succeeded in building up a solid system thoroughly examined and approved for long by large numbers of scholars.- Protestantism, too, has not succeeded in laying the foundations and building the superstructure of a system that could stand the test and prove acceptable to a good proportion of its religious specialists. It has been from the start, and remains today, a babel of opinions.

The only religion which has the full approval of thousands of experts is the Catholic Church.-After a general education the Catholic priest has to go through a critical course of at least six years of philosophy and religion (in which the question of the need of proof is all the time squarely faced), While many of the more than 300,000 priests devote their whole life to a critical study of the foundations of their faith, many more are compelled by the nature of their work to re-examine their own position continuously. Though not all priests could be called experts in the fundamentals of their faith, most of them, and a number of laymen, have the knowledge and critical abilities required to be able to judge the value of the arguments of the experts. A religion held and endorsed for so many centuries by so many experts and near-experts-most of whom, if they adhered knowingly to a false or doubtful proposition, would only make themselves of all men the most miserable-a religion which, moreover, continues to draw its converts from among the most eminent of its adversaries, must be a sound, proven system.

It may be objected that Catholic priests are biased, and the honesty of their position is suspect. But most of them could have succeeded in any other profession, which would have provided them with a better living than they can expect as priests. For the majority come from the middle classes and many belong to the best students of their schools. Moreover, by their celibacy, and many by their voluntary vows of poverty and obedience, they go against the strongest natural biases which urge man to get married, become the father of a family and be the master of his own actions and property. Such sacrifices people make only ‘for their inmost convictions. So the bias of the Catholic priest is one of conviction, much more even than that of the doctor, teacher and scientist; not that of the quack or charlatan who does his tricks and cheats the people for private advantage.

3. With this claim and pointing to the fulfilment of the biblical prophecies and to the miracles of Christ and the Apostles as proof, the Catholic Church converted a substantial number of intellectuals and finally the entire nations of the Greek and Roman civilisations. This she didbyno other means than persuasion, at a time when that claim and those miracles could be most easily examined, and, if not true, disproved. Some have pretended to find a sufficient and final explanation for the success of the early Christian propaganda in the enthusiasm of the Christians, their expectation of the early coming of Christ and heavenly rewards, and their superb organisation. But as she offered no tangible advantages, except to the poorest, the enthusiasm and expectation, her driving force, could not have lasted for 300 years, in very unfavourable circumstances, if they had not derived their substance and strength from solid proofs. For during those first three centuries the conversion of so many was effected in spite of the gravest social disadvantages and the continuous threat or reality of bloody persecutions, inflicted on defenceless victims by a powerful State.

4. Christ’s revelation, which showed its divine origin by numerous miracles, was expressly given by Him for all men of all times. God must, therefore, have made some provision to keep it intact, free from error, and accessible to all men. It seems absurd that God should work numerous miracles while granting a revelation and then, though commanding that it be taught to all mankind, provide no assistance, miraculous if necessary, to keep it intact and accessible to all. That provision has not been individual inspiration. Those who claimed such private inspiration failed to believe and teach one and the same thing. It is also not the Bible alone, since the Protestants and earlier dissidents, who wanted to base their knowledge of the revelation on the Bible alone, at once landed into such doubt, disagreement and confusion as to equal the philosophers. There is one system, and one only, that can claim such unity and continuity of doctrine as are the hallmarks of divine guidance, only one Christian institution which can have preserved Christ’s revelation intact for all men-the Catholic Church.

This is confirmed by a comparison between the New Testament and the Old. The Jewish prophets had spoken of ‘the age of the Messiah, as the fulfilment of the old covenant, as the establishment of the kingdom of God on earth, in which also the non-Jews were to enter. Christ claimed to found that new kingdom, to give a more abundant outpouring of divine grace and truth for all men. The truths revealed to the Jews in the Old Testament, although they were mostly truths accessible to the human intelligence, but entrusted to a small compact nation, were safeguarded not only by their Bible, but also by an authorised teaching body and occasional extraordinary teachers who had to prove their authority by miracles. If a book was not sufficient to safeguard religious truths among a little nation, how could a great number of mysteries be kept intact by a mere book among people of all degrees of culture, spread over the face of the earth? An extraordinary divine guidance cannot be absent in the new dispensation if it is to be the fulfilment of the old. That guidance might have been given by God to every individual follower of Christ or reader of the Bible. But, as daily experience clearly proves, He has not done so. It can, therefore, have been given only to the society or Church founded by Christ which, though progressing in the understanding of the revealed truths, has never wavered in her allegiance to the teachings entrusted to her by her Founder.

5. Christ’s words clearly imply an infallible Church to teach all men. He said: “Teach all nations . . . to observe all things I have commanded you,” a command which can be fulfilled only if the Church is kept free from error. Therefore, He also added while giving this command: “All power is given to me in heaven and on earth,” and “Behold I am with you all days, even to the consummation of the world.” He also said: “He that believeth and is baptised shall be saved; he that believeth not shall be condemned”-but God cannot reasonably condemn people for refusing to believe a fallible Church. Christ said again: “The. Spirit of Truth will teach you all truth,” “will lead you into all truth,” will bring all things to your mind whatsoever I have said to you,” etc. “He that heareth you, heareth Me; he that despiseth you, despiseth Me.” “As the Father hath sent Me, I also send you.” “If (the sinner) will not heareth the Church, let him be to thee as the heathen and the publican.” This arrangement this promise of Christ, which is divine and has been endorsed by His many miracles, must be fulfilled. No Church claims, nor can be said to fulfil, this tremendous promise except the Catholic Church, which alone specks with a certain voice and an authority which reminds us of Christ Himself.

6. Only the Catholic Church, which goes back to the very persons of Christ and Peter, holds their commission to teach from Jesus Christ Himself. Churches like the Protestant ones, founded many centuries later, some of them by very unsaintly men, chiefly in opposition to teachings of the Church commissioned by Christ, can have no share in that commission-nor in the promise that He would be with His teaching Church always, even to the end of the world.

7. “The Church of God,” St. Paul tells us, expressing the conviction implied in the writings and acts of the Apostles, is “the pillar and ground of truth.” The Protestant Churches, which teach conflicting opinions about even the most important traditional doctrines of Christianity, cannot be said to fulfil that role. “You change already,” Bosuet objected to them, “and, therefore, you are not the truth”; for the only change compatible with the possession of the truth is an organic one, a deepening of the understanding of doctrines, not a changing of their very meaning. A Church, moreover, which is to be the pillar of truth, preserving it intact for mankind, must ever fight and reject error. The relentless war against all change of the traditional teachings of Christ, begun by the Apostles, the Catholic Church has continued to wage, without relaxation from the earliest centuries till our own days: whilst the Protestant Churches afford a secure home for all opinions and heresies, even those solemnly rejected by the universal Church more than fifteen centuries ago. Thereby they make it evident that they are not the pillar and ground of the truth, but are separated from the true Church of Christ.

8. The Church of Christ must be one united, visible Society, with one Government, and one doctrine. Christ and His Apostles insist on this. Christ speaks of “My Church” (not Churches), and compares it to a kingdom, a sheepfold, a city, a vine, a net holding good and bad fish. “No kingdom divided against itself can endure,” He says. One selected body of men must unitedly rule His Church: “Whatsoever you shall bind on earth, shall be bound also in heaven, etc.” (See also the texts quoted in No. 5.) St. Paul tells us that the faithful must be “one body,” “one body in Christ,” “one body and one spirit,” that there is “one Lord, one faith, one baptism,” and both He and the other Apostles use the harshest of terms against all who teach doctrines different from those taught by the authorised teachers in the Church. Only in the Catholic Church are these characteristics of the true Church of Christ fulfilled: one Government, one Society, one Faith, one Doctrine. Those, therefore, who broke away from that one Society and one Government broke away from the Church of Christ. Moreover, the unity found in the Catholic Church is in itself a miracle. “Therein,” says Archbishop Sheehan, “lies the miracle of her unity, that she, while teaching what is hard to believe, while prescribing what is hard to practise, while rejecting all compromise in faith and morals, yet holds her vast following together in willing submission.”

9. That the Catholic Church is the Church of Christ is also evident from the fact that she alone follows the constitution laid down by Him. He wanted His Church to have a visible head, a ruler who would have supreme authority and command. This office He entrusted to Simon Peter when, before leaving His flock, He made Peter the shepherd in His own stead: “Feed my lambs . . . feed my lambs . . . feed my sheep.” He had promised it to Peter when He gave him the new name “Rock” (Cephas, Peter), and said “upon this rock I will build my Church,” thus clearly indicating that in His Church Peter was to be the foundation of its unity, strength and permanence, a role which, in a society, only the supreme ruler can fulfil. He also entrusted to him “the keys of the kingdom of heaven” (i.e., the Church), by this figure of speech again showing that Peter was to be in full charge. And He bestowed on Peter the independent power to give to give laws and change them: “Whatsoever thou shalt bind on earth shall be bound also in heaven, and whatsoever thou shalt loose on earth shall be loosed also in heaven,” a power of command which is fully endorsed by God (“in heaven”). This outstanding position of Peter is borne out by other statements and actions of Christ and of the Apostles and by the way Peter took over the leadership after Christ’s ascension.

It is also clear that this office, entrusted to Peter in the first place, was meant by Christ to be permanent, for: (a) It is only on account at the office of supreme ruler that Peter is the rock or foundation of the Church, giving it cohesion, strength and permanence. This rock, the office, must remain as long as the Church is to remain, that is, for ever. The Church would collapse if the rock were taken away from under it. Thus the office cannot cease at Peter’s death. This is implied in the very words of Christ: “Thou art Rock (Cephas, Peter), and upon this rock I will build my Church, and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it.”

(b) Christ as founder determined the kind of constitution His Church was to have. No one has the right or power to change that constitution but He Himself. As we have seen, He gave to His Church in Peter a monarchial constitution. There is no sign in the Bible or early history of the church that He abrogated it.

(c,) The office was instituted for the benefit not of Peter but of the Church. She needed a firm foundation for her unity and permanence. She had to be ruled by appropriate laws. Her members, the sheep, needed the guidance and care of a shepherd. Much more than during the lifetime of Peter and the other Apostles, when in the course of centuries the impression of their personalities would fade and the Church was to expand over the whole world and embrace all peoples and cultures, would guidance and a safeguard for her unity and strength be badly needed. While providing it for a time when it was hardly required, Christ could not have neglected to provide it for many centuries, when it would be indispensable to safeguard His Church from certain destruction.

(d) Although in the beginning the exercise of that supreme authority was little needed, we find traces of it already from the end of the first century (Pope Clement); and long before the year 400 A.D. we find it plainly acknowledged by the whole Church, in East and West. In those early centuries, tradition was strong and the battle for its preservation fought with fierceness. The bishops of Rome had no means to impose their authority by force.

And self-interest would have allied itself with piety to urge the other bishops to resist such an encroachment on their rights. The Popes could, therefore, not have succeeded in building up supreme, illegal authority without leaving clear traces of a long and violent battle on the pages of history. The absence of traces of such battle, in a matter then undefined, can only mean that the authority of the Popes was generally recognised to be of divine origin, instituted by Christ Himself.

10. On this Church God continues in our days to impress the stamp of His miracles. In Lourdes “patients have been cured almost instantaneously of various affections, such as peritoneal tuberculosis, cold abscesses, osteitis, suppurating wounds, lupus, cancer, etc.” “Thus the well-known American doctor and Nobel-prize winner. Alexis Carrel, says in his book: “Man the unknown” (see pp. 144–145). “These miracles the Church readily submits to the scrutiny of her severest critics (as in the Medical Bureau established at Lourdes), and have been acknowledged after careful examination by several prominent non-Catholic doctors and intellectuals as beyond all possibility of doubt. Of these proofs one may say with St. Augustine: “All this if it be not true, Thou Thyself, O God, dost fool us!”

The Catholic Church is easily the most misunderstood and slandered institution in the world. Because of the enormity of her claim she has been forced ever to stand in the thick of all mental struggle. She provokes many to eternal struggles, continuous discussion and attack. She is never allowed to rest. Failure to hold even one of her defined doctrines would spell certain disaster. As her divine Master she is “set for the fall and the resurrection of many and a sign which shall be contradicted.” Continuing His mission she meets His fate.

Christ and His Church concern every man most closely, infinitely more, than anything else in the world. For Christ, who worked those numerous miracles to prove His divine mission, has said: “What does it profit a man if he gain the whole world but suffer the loss of his soul?” And in His final command to His Church. “Go into the whole world and teach the gospel to every creature; he that believeth and is baptised shall be saved, he that (through his own fault neglects to listen or enquire and thus) believeth not shall be condemned.”

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Thanks Be To God

BY REV. DANIEL CONSIDINE, S.J

INDEX

WHAT is a point of view which will put everything into its proper perspective, and is fitted for every sight, weak as well as strong? Thankfulness, in all places, in all circumstances, always. God is ever with us, we are ever with Him, we cannot help forming some opinion of Him: we must have some theory about Him if He ever enters our thoughts. What is it to be?

A good opinion, a sense of how much we owe Him. Even if we feel that we do very little for Him, and, indeed, are of very little account ourselves, we can at least thank Him for His kindness, we need not be ashamed to acknowledge it. Good manners teach us to say “thank you” for a service rendered. And God is at our service, tends us, provides for us all day, all night long. We can surely say so much in our hearts without any loss of dignity on our part.

We may kiss the Hand that feeds us. We need undertake no new obligations, we need make no promise, we only meet a gift, a never-ending succession of gifts, with an expression of gratitude. We do not refuse His presents, we cannot refuse His presents if we are to retain our being; we give Him in return simply our thanks. A beggar would do no less and we need do no more.

Of course, He does not require a repetition of acts, but a disposition, a temper of thanksgiving. We can have His mercies for the asking, or unasked, if only we will acknowledge them. On what easy terms does the Eternal God open to us His stores! It needs no long practice of austerity or high contemplation to tell him that we are grateful for what we have received. All His gifts are not equally pleasant, but they are all from His Hand, and we know that they are bestowed for our good, although we do not see how.

If we ran our course with eyes always open to God’s favours showered upon us and with grateful hearts, we should not have run in vain and should receive the prize.

Thankfulness ripens into love and love is the fulfilling of the law. How fond Jesus Christ was of publishing His thanks to His heavenly Father! How deeply He felt the slights put upon Him by Simon the Pharisee and, on the other hand, the atonement made for them by Magdalen’s love!

“Thou gavest Me no water for My Feet, but she with tears hath washed My Feet, and with her hairs hath wiped them.” Paradise was His thank-offering to the Good Thief for his defence of Him on Calvary. It will also be the sure reward of all whom no contradictions, no perplexities, can hinder from always praising, always thanking God.

PURE GOLD FOR GOD

WHEN we look back upon the huge pile of our past works, may we not fitly borrow the imagery of St Paul and ask ourselves how much of it is likely to abide the trial of fire, how much of it was “wood” and “hay” and “stubble”-trifles, vanity, or worse, and how much “gold, silver, and precious stones”? St Philip Neri used to say pleasantly with regard to spiritual reading that he liked the works, that is, the books of people whose names began with S, that is, of Saints. Suppose we were to take S as signifying not Saints but Self, to how many bundles of our past labours should we not have to attach the label S, Selfish, done for ourselves, for our own comfort, our own glorification, our own advantage. And, I much fear, how quickly and how brightly they would burn. How many of our witty but unkind sayings, how much of our uncharitableness, how much of our conceit, would crackle there! We may hope indeed that the fire would spare us something, would respect at least a few objects in that vast collection.

What are the “gold” and “silver” and ““precious stones”“ of life? Here and there after the conflagration we pick up some articles over which the flames have no power, in some instances slightly blackened perhaps, because our motives have not been quite pure, but yet substantially intact and unharmed. What are these jewels? Sorrows patiently borne, injuries not resented, humble, gentle, kindly thoughts and words and deeds-above all the pure gold, which no fire can tarnish, of deeds done wholly for the love of God.

THE CHILD JESUS

THE Child Jesus was the flowering of the Root of Jesse; in Him the Godhead dwelt corporeally; to Him, therefore, there could be wanting nothing of life’s opening loveliness, and fragrance, and grace.

He came to make Himself known to men, and He chose His own method of doing so. He would introduce Himself to us at His own time and in His own fashion; and every circumstance should serve to tell us more about Him, to make it clearer to us how He wishes us to think of Him, and in what way to treat Him.

A child does not love ceremony; in fact, it does not understand it. It knows nothing of the distinctions of wealth and class; it welcomes all because it believes all to be its friends. There is one lifting of the veil, one Divine intimation, one hint, if we may so call it, how God desires to be regarded. He has bowed the heavens and come down to earth, not in search of pomp and parade-the courtiers He summoned were shepherds keeping the night watches over their flocks; the entrance of the cave was open to all corners as to the midnight air.

What are the qualities of a child? First of all, love for its parents, affection, affectionateness.

It is worth while dwelling a little on this affectionateness, this disposition to love, this quick response to affection shown Him by others, which was a characteristic of the Child Jesus. If it truly be a mark of Him as He is, and as He wishes us to know Him, it ought to have an important bearing upon our service of Him.

If affectionateness is the first sign of a good child, perhaps we may rank docility as the second. Docility, as we know, simply signifies teachableness, readiness to be taught, a willingness to learn.

Indocility, unteachableness, is a hindrance to human knowledge. How much more to Divine! The difficulty is not that God is not willing to teach us, but that we are not willing to learn. We do not know ourselves, our own weakness, our own pressing needs, our own greatest dangers; we live, as far as our souls are concerned, in a sort of fool’s paradise, and how can we expect to know the Infinite God? He Himself alone can manifest Himself to us, for He is above our human searching out; and yet He cannot allow His Divine Light to stream into our souls because we are too proud to be taught. Our self-caused darkness is so thick that we do not feel the need of, we do not crave for, light. It will be some kind of preparation for docility in the things of God, after the pattern of the Divine Child, if we strive to gain more docility in the affairs of our daily life. More deference to others, less insistence on our own opinions, a more real effort to enter into others” minds, to understand why they view things so differently from ourselves; such a training in humility, charity, and fellow-feeling will bring us very near to the Divine Child who was so loving to all, and who, though Infinitely Wise, did not disdain to go to school to His own imperfect creatures on earth.

TOO LITTLE SENTIMENT

A SUFFICIENT answer to persons who bid us to check all feeling in our dealings with God is surely found in the example of our Divine Master Himself when He walked this earth and “went in and out” among His Apostles and disciples. He thought it no shame to weep passionate tears over Jerusalem on the day of what seemed His triumph, but which, as He knew, only preluded His doom.

His grief at the death of Lazarus made even His enemies cry out in wonder “behold how He loved him.” He invit ed John to lay his head on His bosom at the Last Supper, and inspired him to put the favour on record for all time, as well as his title of “the disciple whom Jesus loved.” He would not have little children scolded when they flocked around Him with the sure attraction of childhood to One who understood and loved them, “because of such are the Kingdom of Heaven.”

If Jesus showed such feelings during His mortal life, and made a triple declaration of love by Peter his amends for his triple denial on that Thursday night, it would indeed be a strange conclusion to infer that Our Lord wishes us to-day to be as ice or marble in our converse with Him, never to move even the lips of our heart, but to hang our heads in His sacred Presence, terrified and abashed.

Has He, who while on earth was the most accessible of men, who put everyone at his ease, after whom, in the phrase of His enemies, “the whole world had gone out,” suddenly changed His ways and nature, and forgotten what manner of Man He was at Nazareth, on Calvary, by the shores of the Lake of Galilee? It is not the excess of feeling, but the lack of it, which is the danger of the religious world of today.

DELIGHT IN THE LORD

THERE is such a thing as breaking with the world on many points and yet not getting possession of God; I do not mean of course not getting possession of God’s grace, but not finding that peace and happiness in His service, which is more real and more precious than earth’s keenest joys.

What is the matter with us if such is our state? Very possibly we are taking the pleasures of a fervent life too sadly. Stiffness, coldness, exaggerated awe, do not kill indeed the Presence of the Blessed Trinity in the soul, but shut out Its sensible effects of light and warmth.

When God invites us to be glad in the recollection of His love for us, of all He has done for us and wishes to do for us both now and hereafter, we turn our eyes away to fix them on our unsatisfactory past, or perhaps our unsatisfactory present, and murmur to ourselves: “How can God love such a “slacker” as myself? He really can’t mean it.” When God draws nearer to us we draw back in fear as though we ought to keep our distance lest we be guilty of irreverence. What a parody this is of that happy, childlike living with God-the intercourse of a Father with His children—which was granted to our First Parents in the beginning, when they were allowed to hear the voice of the Lord God walking in Paradise at the afternoon air! We are now in many ways more blest than they; the felix Adae culpa, the happy fault of Adam, as the Church is not afraid to call it in the morning service of Holy Saturday, deserved to have the Redeemer with whom our union in His Sacrament is immeasurably closer than the strolling of God with His creatures on the lawns of Paradise when the early evening breezes had begun to temper the heat of the sun.

God is Light, and Love, and Inexhaustible Joy; His Conversation hath no bitterness nor His Company any tediousness (Wisdom viii. 16): what wonder if His servants are happy in His service. He is glad in our gladness; He would have us joyful rather than sad; He grudges us no holiday if only we will take Him everywhere along with us. The world is wrong believing that it can be happy without Him, but it is sometimes right in suspecting that not all His servants value Him as they ought. Do not let us at least deserve this reproach in our own instance.

THE HEAVENLY VISION

LET us examine our own experience of God’s dealings with us in the past. We find bad habits of temper or uncharitableness or worse things installed within us. Turn back upon them the lamp of memory steadily, widely, so as to bring into view all attendant circumstances and light up God’s admonitions and inspirations as well as our own perversity. Try to recollect how often the voice of conscience has striven to make itself heard, in gentle whispers first of all and then in loud remonstrance or remorse, until quelled at last it has seemed to die in sobs or in murmurs far away. How many fires of noble purpose have been lit in our souls by stirring words or great examples, or suddenly, in the strangest fashion in most unexpected places or at most unlikely times by the Holy Spirit, who alone can touch the inmost heart, and afterwards have burnt low and then to ashes because you would take no pains to feed them!

St Paul says he was not “disobedient to the heavenly vision.” We indeed have no claim to such a wonder as wrought his conversion, but I believe that glimpses of the Unseen, and high impulses and yearnings for better things, not the work of imagination but of the God “in whom we live and move and have our being,” are not so uncommon as is often fancied in these days of ours, perhaps because there are so many lying spirits abroad just now trying to deceive us. The Lord is not a hard man, but in the words of the prophet Joel, “gracious and merciful, patient and rich in mercy, and ready to repent of the evil.” Believe Him to be gentle, kind, generous, and compassionate beyond the tenderness of the most devoted mother, and you will find your anticipations fall infinitely short of the truth. The one thing that He cannot bear is that you should mistrust His love.

MY DAY’S JOURNEY

IN what thoughts can I find inspiration and comfort at the beginning of each day? In God with us and therefore we with God. My day’s march has been carefully mapped out for me, “before Abraham was made,” in the Divine counsels, its windings allowed for, the ambushes of my enemies forestalled.

I may be quite assured against surprises or superior force, if only I leave myself unhesitatingly in the hands of God. And then what a fine thing it is, enough to stir one’s pulses at a suitable time and place, but true even when one is not in an enthusiastic mood, to know that the feeblest of us has a bit to do, a work to accomplish, under a commission, not signed by earthly emperor or king, but from the Sovereign of Heaven itself! Further, every weary pace I count, if it so be that the way is long or tedious, is taken under the eyes of Him for whose sake I have begun the march and who will at its end give me a rich reward.

I can make for myself a Friend who will accompany me through my day, step by step, who can and will, if I do not fail Him, always guide me, always uphold me, in whom I can trust unreservedly, and who is so generous that while He has no need of me and I have every need of Him, He actually regards my leaning upon Him as a favour done by me to Him and is most anxious to reward me for obeying what is not only my duty but the dictates of my own interest and advantage.

To halt for a few seconds or minutes clear the head. Why should not the thoughts during my day’s work is only to rest and of God, His goodness, our need of His assistance, or our fervent wishes for the welfare of those dear to us, and therefore our supplications for them to the throne of grace, be suitable at such times? No painful effort, no strain would be needed or desirable. If after a little practice we were to find the attempt a strain, would not this alone prove to us how much we have yet to learn about the proper method of intercourse with God-how stiff and formal, inelastic and cold our own way is, so unlike the conversation of a child with his Father and therefore so unlike the model of prayer taught us by Our Lord Himself. God is always at our elbow, God is always in our heart, God encompasses us on every side. He reads all our thoughts, He intimately knows every aspiration, every fear, every hope of our soul-He understands us without any need of our explanation, He can supply the answer to the problems which perplex ourselves. Why do we not consult Him more, open our hearts to His love, lean on Him in our weakness, implore His succour in our wants? He has not shrunk from abasing Himself to earth in order to share my human toils and troubles and trials; and shall I refuse His Company, as far as I can, and deny my confidences and reject His Friendship? If He loves to be with me, my answer must be, that I, above all, desire to love to be with Him.

MISJUDGING GOD

IF I place myself between the source of light and what I want to see, I stand in my own light. In the same way I unwittingly interpose myself between God’s light (vouchsafed to me in prayer or at other times) and God Himself, and I mistake my own shadow for the Divine Beauty.

I am unfortunately selfish and mean and unforgiving and dreadfully suspicious, and I cannot believe that the qualities which exist in myself are not also to he found in God. I am judging God by myself; I am reading my own petty thoughts into the Divine Mind. A moment’s reflection will show us how terrible a mistake this is, how fatal to all worthy conceptions of God and therefore to any noble enthusiasm in His service. I verily believe that this error has done more than any other of our day to chill fervent spirits and to sicken loyal hearts that would otherwise have beaten high with the love of the Master.

We have unconsciously dragged our God down to our own level, made Him in our imagination as petty and as unlovable as we are ourselves, and have then been surprised that we do not feel it easy to burn with devotion to our Father whom we have misunderstood.

If the turn of the phrase be not too familiar, I would lay down that God’s good opinion of us chiefly depends on our good opinion of Him. I do not mean that God is open to flattery or that it can matter to Him in itself what we choose to think of our Creator, but that our behaviour towards Him is founded on our thoughts of Him, and noble thoughts beget noble deeds. Intimate thoughts lead to intimacy, and confiding thoughts of God to trustfulness and hope in Him.

TRUSTING GOD

GOD never constrains us, He allures us, but He always leaves us free, indeed He wishes to enlarge our freedom as far as possible, because the more willing is our obedience the more honourable it is to Him and to us: “God loves a cheerful giver,” St Paul says.

There are two persons concerned in our sanctification: God and ourselves, and they must work together. If they do not, or do not work harmoniously, no great result can be achieved. There can never be any fault on God’s side: if things go amiss we are always to blame. For instance, God has a plan by which I am in course of time to be fitted to play an important part in the walk of life in which His Providence has placed me. But if I refuse to fall in with this design and am bent instead on a little scheme of my own, no real good comes of either, for neither can succeed. God will not overbear my opposition, and, naturally, I cannot overcome His.

Our Father in Heaven loves us most tenderly and desires to do us all manner of good. All that God wants of us, all that He asks of us and that He must ask from the very nature of the case, is that we will not thwart Him, that we will let Him do His own work in His own way.

But what do we really know about the Eternal God? How can we gauge His feelings? How can we make conjectures about His Mind? We are afraid to leave ourselves in the hands of the Heavenly Titan if only because He is so great, infinitely greater than we. Not only does He tower to the clouds, and, if we are to speak of Him in material terms, immeasurably beyond. We handle a butterfly carefully lest we bruise its wings. How can God touch us ever so slightly, ever so delicately, and not grind us to powder? That is why He stoops so low to our feebleness and takes us up so tenderly for fear of crushing us, and speaks to us not with His voice of thunder (Apoc. vi. x) lest He deafen us, but as it were of a gentle wind. But, do as we will, our poor restless hearts flutter when we think Him near, and we can understand how the Israelites could have said to Moses: “Speak thou to us and we will hear: let not the Lord speak to us lest we die.” We look out with our human eyes, which cannot see very far or very clear, into the counsel of God, and is it strange that our image of it is imperfect and distorted, belittled down to our own littleness, narrowed down to our own narrowness of soul?

We are not blameworthy in this, we cannot raise ourselves above ourselves, nor does God require us to do so. Our help is not in ourselves, but in God. His complaint against us is that we will not accept His proffered aid. He will lift us up from the dunghill and place us with princes, if we do not obstinately plant our feet on the earth and refuse to move; He will strengthen our eyes to see if we do not keep them firmly closed; if we will open our mouths He will gladly fill them. We shall know by experience that “the Lord our God is gracious and merciful, patient and rich in mercy, and ready to repent of the evil,” if only we give Him a trial. In truth the decision lies not with Him but with us.

In our spiritual concerns even more than in our worldly ones “nothing venture” means “nothing have.” God has done so much for us-can we do nothing for Him?

Can we not trust His word, and abandon ourselves to God’s guidance? Shall we not be safe in His Everlasting Arms, and are we not to hope in the shadow of His wings? (Ps. lvi. 2).

THE MORNING MASS

BEFORE convincing yourself that you are out of favour with God and that He is punishing you by darkness, why not make some obvious experiments to find out whether it is not you yourself who are standing in your own light?

You complain that your soul is out of sorts. Perhaps your body, your mind, is out of sorts as well, and it is the soul which is suffering from its contact with the body, and not the other way round. You have passed a bad night from whatever cause and have hurried some distance to attend your daily Mass; you arrive hot and tired, and cannot fix your mind on the sacred rite; you go up almost mechanically to the altar rails after the Domine, non sum dignus, and do not make a cold Thanksgiving simply because you do not make a Thanksgiving at all. You are in a dream, or only half-awake. When you return to your home and throw your mind back upon the morning, your time in church seems to have been one long distraction. This surely spells tepidity, if tepidity there be.

Not a bit of it! It spells bodily discomfort, and bodily weakness, either passing or constitutional. It has nothing to do with the will, the set purpose of the soul to which God alone attends. If that purpose holds firm, our thoughts may wander where they list, they cannot withdraw us from God; the wind may blow about our hair or necktie or coat, but we shall reach our journey’s end in spite of it if we keep on our way. And we do keep on our way if from beginning to end we have in view one aim only-to please God, to benefit our soul. Fits of inattention, which indeed are hardly conscious and are not wholly wilful, which amidst the stir and movement of a body of people are almost inevitable, do not seriously interfere with our master-thought. We have come to pay homage to our God at the cost of no little inconvenience to ourselves, and He gladly welcomes us, not as seraphs, but as poor human creatures, men and women with bodies of clay, with no wings of our own to lift us above the earth whence we have sprung and whither we shall return. Is it likely, is it conceivable, that at such moments as these our Father who is in Heaven, but also in every part of the earth, should be prying to discover whether and how far our imaginations may have strayed from Him, although He knows that He possesses our hearts?

God in the centre of your heart knows that you want to serve Him, your distractions do not distract Him, He is nearer to you than they, and He understands that they are no part of your real self. They are the offspring of that mortal body which by His own permission weighs down the soul. He is content with your goodwill, and if He is satisfied why are not you?

“OUR FATHER”

WHAT is the pattern set before us in the Lord’s Prayer? We are bidden to ask that His Name should be hallowed, that His Kingdom should come, that His Will should be done on earth as well as in heaven- not, observe, in any particular country or parish, but the wide world over. Every one of us, however miserable, however sinful, has these words put into his mouth.

There follows indeed, as is right and proper, a supplication for our own individual needs.

But we have first been taught in what the essence of prayer resides, what prayer really means, the entrance, that is, into the Presence-Chamber of the Eternal God, to whom all things are subject, whose Eyes survey the whole earth.

With Him all things are possible. When we speak to Him who holds in His Hands the threads of all creation, who is All-Wise and All-Powerful, whose Will no one can withstand, it is ridiculous to talk of difficulties except those of our own making.

We can ask for too little, we cannot ask for too much. We can pray for a single conversion; He who died for all would like us to beg His mercy upon all whom He has redeemed. A man may be known by his prayers, I do not mean by their length but by their character, as it were by their tone. Our prayers are an expression of ourselves: if they are large and hopeful and buoyant, they reflect an intimacy with God and a trust in His goodness to which nothing can be refused. We cannot think too well of God; we cannot overrate His liberality.

CONFIDENCE IN PRAYER

WHEN we, who are by nature mere dust and ashes, venture even by His express command to raise our eyes and our voice to our Maker, our first difficulty will naturally be, if we are not merely repeating prayers by rote, to accustom ourselves, as it were, to the novelty of the position and to overcome the feeling of awe which it would naturally produce. It seems hardly credible that the Highest could stoop to interest Himself in our trivial affairs, and the mere thought of His doing so at first fills us with more fear than consolation. We find it hard to take quite literally His gracious words inviting us to beg of Him any favour whatsoever: and in our confusion we experience almost a feeling of relief in putting in reservations and restrictions of our own, to make, as it were, His generosity more suitable to our littleness, shading with our hands the light of His goodness that our weak eyes may be able to bear it.

To pray, to put ourselves in communication with God, is to enter into another world with which we are totally unacquainted, utterly unlike our own, having immense spaces, as it seems, in which we may lose ourselves and wander on aimlessly, fruitlessly, without any end. It is making an excursion, while we still remain in the flesh, into the land of the spirit, of infinity, of eternity, of reality-although we conceive of it as of shadows-dwelt in by God, and penetrated with His Presence a thousand times more intimately than the earth on which we stand. What wonder that as soon as in prayer we cross the frontiers of this universe, when we strive to “raise our minds and hearts to God,” we are apt to take with us the fetters of the prison-house which we have just quitted!

What we need is more simplicity in our relations with God. It is quite true that He is raised above us higher than the heavens above the earth, that He is and must always remain infinitely beyond our understanding, simply because He is Infinite and Eternal, whereas we are dust and creatures of time. Be it so; let us leave it so. We shall one day understand all that is possible to be understood about the Incomprehensible Deity. Meanwhile we shall only bewilder our poor minds by becoming “searchers of majesty and be overwhelmed by glory” (Prov. xxv. 2), and shall strain our eyes to no purpose in peering into the light inaccessible wherein God dwells, but which to our sight is as thickest darkness.

We put little heart into our prayers because we have little real hope that they will be granted. It is here that our lack of simplicity comes in. We cannot understand, we cannot even imagine, how what we pray for can be brought about in existing circumstances- how some blow we dread can be turned aside, or how our will can ever be steeled to follow the right; and we forget that circumstances exist only by God’s permission, and can be changed by Him in a moment if He wills.

There is a deep lesson for us all in Our Lord’s frequent practice as we read it in the Gospels, of questioning those who begged His help whether they truly believed He could perform what they required. We are told that He wrought not many miracles in His own country because of the unbelief of its inhabitants. They could not take away His infinite power, but they could and did extinguish His desire to exercise it on their behalf.

The less we speculate upon God’s hidden counsels the more fervently we shall implore His mercy. We pray because He bids us pray, He does not bid us inquire into “the times and moments which the Father hath put in His own power.”

ST JOSEPH

IT is good for us to be at Nazareth in spirit for a while, to watch for a little, standing or on our knees, in front of the carpenter’s shed, Joseph drawing his saw, Jesus planing some piece of wood, Mary engaged in sewing or weaving. What are they thinking of? How do they manage to lighten the monotony of their life?

If we could have speech of them, they would surely answer that they needed not our pity and found no monotony in their life. On the contrary, every sun gave them only a fresh occasion of blessing God and a new opportunity of spending themselves in His service.

If the great St Joseph could teach us not by example only but by word, would he not counsel us to fill our days with some solemn purpose which should give a meaning and unity to our life and a heavenly tincture to its meanest details under the eyes of God?

The grating of the carpenter’s saw, the clicks of his hammer, did not sound harshly in the realms above for the Lord’s fosterfather, and the Lord Himself wrought for God’s glory not with His Hands only but with His Heart. There can be no real monotony in a life lived for God, and its smallest actions are as the dust of gold.

THE WAY TO HOLINESS

HELL-FIRE is a terrible reality and never to be forgotten, but it should not form the staple of our thoughts. It is very useful as a check, as a deterrent, but it alone never made a saint. The Dies Irae rolling through the arches of some great cathedral fills, subdues, transpierces the soul; but it is a lament, a plea for mercy, a deprecation of wrath. The true battlecry, leading forward the hosts of the Lord, is the Hymn of Love, the 0 Deus, ego amo Te of St Francis Xavier; to its strain, not loud but deep, heard only by God’s ears and our own, we gird on our armour and for His sake quit ourselves like men as long as our heart-beats last. Aim high always, always widen the horizon of your hopes, let each day find you more keen, more energetic, more confident of success. Look not backward, let the dead bury its dead; forget past failures; set your face steadily to the future, as did your Lord and Master, to the heavenly Jerusalem.

Away with despondency; do not parley with doubts; your own strength is as that of a reed, but you are upheld and carried forward by the power of God. Take yourself by what is glorious in you, not by what is base; by what is eternal, your predilection by God, your destiny, not by what is temporal, your body of clay and its lower passions. Cultivate, reinforce, draw out the diviner elements in you, since you are made after the image and likeness of God; weaken, keep under what only relates you to the brute. The soul is like the human voice, it can be trained throughout all its range; it can be strengthened where it is weak, and softened where it is harsh, and grow indefinitely in fineness, delicacy, and expression.

God can, if He wishes, freeze the soul with terror, shake it with the thunder of His wrath; but He prefers to strike the chords of love, to win us, not to frighten us, into His arms. It is our part to prepare ourselves for His gracious visitations, and to accustom ourselves to recognise and to welcome the faintest breathing of His Spirit.

OUR LORD’S COMPASSION FOR US

WE are all in God’s sight, if we are repentant, only naughty boys or naughty girls. It is precisely because of our childishness, our want of foresight, our want of thought, our waywardness, our lack of self-control, that God is so patient with our faults.

We are weaker and blinder even than we know. We are not always fair judges of the full amount of deliberation, and therefore of malice, in the sins we commit. Our Lord could not tell or insinuate a falsehood and yet He could offer up His prayer to the Eternal Truth: Father forgive them for they know not what they do. It is then certain that God may find excuses for us when we can find none for ourselves. We shall never in this life-or indeed in the next-understand altogether the mystery of God’s mercy, but one clue to it must be God’s infinite knowledge of our all but infinite littleness in comparison with Him.

It is our helplessness, our want of sense, our inability to guide ourselves, which seem most of all to appeal to His supreme wisdom, His magnificent strength, His most tender love-He had compassion on the multitude because they were like sheep without a shepherd. A mother is not irritated but touched by the first clumsy attempts of her child to walk; she raises it more carefully and embraces it more lovingly after every fall. We cannot be mistaken if we imitate towards ourselves the methods of our Heavenly Father, the Author of our nature. He does not threaten us, unless we harden our hearts; He does not storm, He does not knit His brow. He treats with reverence all that He has made; He disposeth all things sweetly, not by terrorism, not by brute force.

When things are not going well with us in the struggles of life, when we have to bear defeat and disappointment, it is the last moment in which to upbraid or even belittle ourselves. We need encouragement; we need restoratives; the soul will respond to motives of confidence and hope. Now is the time to pour in oil and wine, as did the good Samaritan, only we must do it for ourselves: “Soul,” we may say, “take courage, faint not; God will not forsake thee; it is no new thing which has happened to thee; many times before thou hast stumbled and fallen, but God has raised thee up, and will do so again; thou art no angel but fashioned of flesh and blood and prone to evil from thy birth; thy Lord is merciful and understanding; He knows that thy frailty rather than thy will consents. His help will be with thee in the future even mightier than in the past.”

Brother, sister, do not think that you are helping God’s cause by disheartening your self; on the contrary, as your spirits rise you mount higher heavenward and you spurn the earth. Hope will give you wings, and you will find easy what you once thought impossible. A victory believed in is a victory assured.

RECONCILIATION

GOD seems to make it a rule that we shall not be in perfect peace with Him if we exclude even one person from our affection. You remember His words about being reconciled to our brother before bringing our gift to the altar; if we won’t do that, He won’t admit us to His close friendship.

Is there anyone in the world towards whom you feel bitterness? Don’t let the sun go down on your anger. You will get nearer to God, and many troubles will disappear. “Love your enemies-do good to those who hate you.” How much it would teach us about Our Blessed Lord to put this into practice!

It is a saying of His, not in the Gospels, but handed down by tradition: “When you have done these things you will understand them.”

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Thanksgiving After Holy Communion

BY DANIEL A. LORD S.J

INDEX

INTRODUCTION

THE MOST precious moments of a lifetime are those immediately after Holy Communion. For a brief quarter of an hour or less our hearts are small sectors of heaven. Jesus Christ, Son of God and Second Person of the Blessed Trinity, Saviour, Master, King of Kings, is there. He is with us in His fascinating humanity that charmed the multitudes of earth and that today is the joy of the angels and saints. He is present in His divinity that is the essential object of heaven’s Beatific Vision.

We play hosts during that brief quarter of an hour to God Himself. Abraham entertained angels; we entertain the Son of God. Concentrating His attention upon us is the miracle worker of Judea. Within reach of our outstretched hands passes slowly the source and author of all grace. The most delightful friendliness brings to dwell with us in intimate association the one who never refused even miracles to those who sought Him on earth.

Our weakness is through this Holy Communion displaced by the strength of the God-man. Through our body and soul courses the purity that counteracts the force of our most passionate temptations. We possess the master and teacher whose wisdom, the basis of modern civilization and of all we mean by the New Law, is placed at our personal disposal.

We, the branches, are united in such close intimacy with Christ, the vine, that the supernatural life of grace flows through us, making us still more perfectly part of His Mystical Body.

All this we know. Theoretically we can explain with glib facility just what we believe of the glorious and delightful association of Christ and the soul in Holy Communion.

PRECIOUS MOMENTS

When a soul is in the state of sanctifying grace, the effect of Holy Communion necessarily follows. The mere presence of the Saviour in the heart is the source of enormous grace. The sacrament works, in the familiar phrase, ex opere operato. Even when the thanksgiving is wretched, the soul has received a great deal by the important fact that Christ has dwelt with it, and the sacrament of His love has poured grace into it. But the measure of this grace can be indefinitely increased by perfection of preparation and care and devotion in thanksgiving.

Yet our thanksgiving after Holy Communion, or our failure to give time to that thanksgiving, has a somewhat startling way of canceling out our professed faith. Our yawns, our distractions, our hurried departure, the listless reading of a prayer book or the fumbling of unattended beads, the daydreaming through the most precious fifteen minutes of our lives would often seem to indicate a complete lack of faith were we not able to plead that universal excuse for all our shortcomings and discrepancies between belief and practice—weak human nature.

Human nature being what it is, we waste most of the precious and important moments of life. Opportunity, that tireless visitor, knocks, but we are too busy or lazy to answer the door until opportunity has reluctantly departed. Love enters our lives, and we chill it to death with yawns and with careless and unintended but blighting neglect. From the slight elevation of our years we look back almost despairfully over a life of wasted chances, unused opportunities, dissipated gifts, squandered loves, neglected friendships.

And usually the only cause is sheer carelessness. Chances slip by because we are not awake and watching. We meet and let pass important people, failing to say the right thing, standing tongue-tied with surprise in their brief presence.

FREQUENT COMMUNION

One has to prepare carefully for the golden moments, or they glide away before one knows they have arrived. One has to cram into the short, important interviews of life as much as possible of preparation and forethought, or the person is gone, and with him the possibility of speaking and hearing and planning the things that might change a life’s career.

Time was when Holy Communion was almost an event. Once-a-month communion was the privilege of the good, and men prepared for it prayerfully and followed it up with careful thanksgiving. Its relative rarity made it seem a solemn thing, something to be approached with awe and welcomed with grateful reverence.

Then frequent communion was given to the world by a loving providence at the hands of a Pope who knew the needs of humanity. Beautiful and world-saving as frequent communion has been, its very accustomedness is a peril. Becoming more frequent, it found at first less of solemnity and more of friendly companionship; then less of awe and more of gratitude. And finally frequency brought its too usual effect.

SPOILED CHILDREN

We forget to tell our mothers that we love them. Good friends grow frighteningly silent in each other’s company. Boredom usually follows in the train of repeated events, even the most significant. Soldiers grow blasé even amid exploding shells, as critics take for granted the paintings they have seen too often or the music they have heard a hundred times.

So because frequent communion was given, not to angels, but to forgetful men, who soon exhaust their resources of thought and emotion, men grew slack in their preparation and careless in their thanksgiving; and the precious moments following the coming of the Eucharistic Christ were increasingly lost.

Men received Holy Communion and rushed from the church thoughtlessly, carrying with them a God unadored, a Saviour unthanked, a teacher unheeded, a friend unwelcomed, a source of strength unused. Once more we proved ourselves children who could be easily spoiled. The very lavishness of our gifts, instead of making us increasingly grateful, made us more prodigal, wasteful, cynically careless.

PURPOSE OF THIS BOOKLET

The purpose of this booklet is then quite obvious. It is to help the frequent communicant to use more wisely and profitably the most precious moments of life. Often it happens that one needs only a little impulse or a quiet suggestion, and the obligation or privilege is seized with avidity. The booklet hopes only to give a stimulating impulse or suggestion.

The prayers offered are not in any sense complete. Rather they are meant to be guides for thought. The best prayer following Holy Communion rises from the heart of the one who has just taken close to him the heart of the Saviour. The best thanksgiving is the spontaneous conversation of an eager friend with the most tender and powerful friend. Hence the prayers are guides and suggestions merely. They can best be used as points of departure.

FIVE CONSIDERATIONS

Thanksgiving after Holy Communion always supposes the following:

1. A realization of who is present in our hearts: Jesus Christ, God-man, lover of souls, divinely powerful, humanly tender, with grace in His hands and the keenest possible interest in His heart for the one who has just received Him. 2. A realization of why the Saviour instituted Holy Communion: His desire to “be with the children of men”; His longing for intimate union with souls; His keen perception of their needs and His power to satisfy those needs; His knowledge that God the Father looking upon the soul after Holy Communion will love it more because of its close union with His beloved Son; His eagerness to share our exile and solve our problems; the burning love of the Saviour seeking the responsive love of men.

3. An act of faith in the clearest words ever spoken: “This is my body; this is my blood. Do this in commemoration of me.”

4. An act of gratitude for this greatest of gifts: Jesus Christ giving to us Himself, who is the source of all good gifts and blessings.

5. An act of love in return for the overwhelming love of God for souls, a love that never showed itself more clearly than in the intimate union of Holy Communion.

In these five considerations there is an adequate thanksgiving. Thought over slowly and carefully, they cannot fail to arouse in the soul words that convey much of love and faith and gratitude.

CONVERSATION WITH CHRIST

Thanksgiving after Holy Communion is perhaps beyond all other prayer conversation with Jesus Christ. When we speak with the saints, they are distant in heaven and recalled to us by the unsatisfactory presence of a statue. Even God the Father, though He surrounds us with His omnipresence, seems incomprehensible, vast, beyond the reach of broken words and halting sentences. And though we lift to Mary the eyes of trusting children, we feel that she must bend condescending in her motherly sweetness from a throne of glory.

But prayer after Holy Communion is different. We speak to a God become man for love of us. We speak to a friend who had in His visible life the pre-eminent gift of friendship; to an intimate actually present in private conference; to a lover intimately concerned with our problems and our joys, which in life He knew and understood from experience; to a God made sensible and humble and near and dear and incredibly approachable.

It should be easy to pray when prayer is conversation with one like this. And this conversation is the perfect thanksgiving.

One must retell with approval the story of the very little girl who returned from her first communion and, when asked if she had talked with Our Lord, said triumphantly:

“Of course I did. I said, “I”m so glad you’ve come, because I love you.” I asked Him for something for every member of our family. Then I said my alphabet for Him and told Him a ghost story.”

A RUNNING ACCOMPANIMENT

With conversation must go quiet and recollected thought. Perhaps it is better to say that the conversation flows directly from the thought. The mere fact that we recall who is present makes us want to talk with Him. The consideration of His power inspires us with confidence in what He can do for us. The consideration of His love makes us spontaneously grateful.

So the prayers indicated here are merely the running accompaniment to our own thoughts, perhaps a sort of fuse to set off these thoughts with their consequent emotions and conversations. Use the prayers, not as ideals, but merely as suggestions. And after they have been used a bit, others, far better, will arise from the depths of the heart as one holds the Saviour there and realizes through faith and love the infinite value of these moments of divine interview, heavenly consultation, friendly association with the Saviour, eager welcome to the God of heaven and earth.

FIRST THANKSGIVING

The Thanksgiving Mass

NO OTHER THANKSGIVING following Holy Communion is more appropriate than the hearing of another Mass. Mass is, as we know, the offering by Jesus Christ, our high priest, together with His priest and His people, of

Himself, the God-man, in unbloody sacrifice to God:

1. To honour God and praise Him as He deserves.

2. To thank Him for His great goodness to the world.

3. To win forgiveness for sinful men.

4. To draw down favours, blessings, and graces upon the needy world.

After Holy Communion we are in a singularly important context. We are closely united with Jesus Christ, the high priest of Calvary and the Mass. Because of this fact we can at that moment especially identify ourselves with Christ offering up this essential sacrifice of the New Law to His Father. If at all times we are members of a royal priesthood, during the time following Holy Communion we are intimately associated with the royal high priest. So we can with special efficacy offer up this Mass of Thanksgiving, joining ourselves with the priest and victim, and at the same time using the Mass for its four important ends, with special reference to ourselves. So in the Mass of Thanksgiving. . . .

1. We begin by making a brief act of offering, uniting ourselves with Jesus Christ in our hearts, the same Jesus Christ who is about to offer sacrifice to God.

Lord God of heaven and earth, in union with your divine Son present within my heart, I offer you this Mass which He is about to offer to you, and for the great intentions which He has in His divine mind and heart. Accept me as copriest with your Son, and let the sacrifice I am offering serve as an adequate thanksgiving for the great grace of Holy Communion which I have just received.

2. During the part of the Mass from the prayers at the foot of the altar to the Credo: a. We recall with sorrow our own sins, confessing ourselves sinners sadly in need of mercy. b. We recall the sins of the world, especially that part of the world that will not repent of its evildoing, and we beg God’s pardon for sinners. c. If there is some member of our own family in need of penitence, we place his needs before the merciful Father. We offer the Mass in sorrow for sin and to beg mercy.

3. From the Credo to the Sanctus: a. We recall God’s great gifts to us personally. We think over those graces that have been especially recent and those that are special marks of His love for us. b. We recall God’s gifts to the world, that accepts them without gratitude or even a short act of thanksgiving. c. We offer our gratitude for some important grace or favour recently received by some member of our family. We offer the Mass in thanksgiving to the good and merciful Father of us all.

4. Only the Son of God, Jesus Christ, God-man, ever served His heavenly Father perfectly in birth, life, and death. His death upon the cross was the perfect act of sacrifice, the offering to the infinite God of an infinite victim. Now upon the altar that offering is repeated, but we together with Christ may now offer this act of homage to God. So from the Sanctus to the Communion:

We offer to God the only gift worthy of Him, Jesus Christ His Son, present in our hearts, but also offering Himself in the Mass. Our offering coincides with the offering in the Mass. a. We offer to God the perfect life and death of the Saviour. b. We unite our life with His and offer it to Him as a gift no longer completely unworthy, because it is united to Christ’s life. c. We do all this to praise God for his infinite goodness and greatness and beauty and power.

5. From the Communion to the end of Mass: a. We beg of God the graces we need for our own soul and body, our success in life and in death. b. We ask favours for those who are near or dear to us in love or association, in friendship or in dislike. c. We beg graces for the Church, its Pope, bishops, priests, religious, missionaries, sick and well, faithful and unfaithful. d. We ask speedy delivery for the souls in purgatory and remember especially our own dear dead and those who have been forgotten.

We beg grace and forgiveness and blessings for the sinful world, unbelievers, pagans, those who do not know or love Christ and His truth.

We offer up Mass for all these favours.

6. At the end we briefly offer to God our own lives, especially the day that lies ahead, uniting it with the Mass we have just heard and begging Christ to remain with us all through our future.

My God, unworthy though I am, I have at least offered to you the sacrifice of your Son in sorrow, petition, praise, and thanksgiving. To this sacrifice I unite my own life. Accept it, with whatever I do or accomplish, suffer or enjoy, as a continuance of the Mass. I have united myself in Holy Communion with your divine Son. Give me the grace never to separate myself from Him. But let my life from this moment be so close an imitation of His that you may accept it for His sake and because it resembles, however imperfectly, His life on earth.

And Lord Jesus, be with me through the day, through my life, making all joys sweeter and all sorrows easier to bear.

Never let me separate myself from you by sin. Let my life be an unending sacrifice offered to your Father as a continuance of the Mass.

SECOND THANKSGIVING

The Priest’s Official Thanks

THE CHURCH HAS ASSIGNED TO HER PRIESTS BEAUTIFUL PRAYERS FOLLOWING HOLY COMMUNION. NO FINER THANKSGIVING CAN BE OFFERED TO CHRIST THAN THESE OFFICIAL PRAYERS

They can be found at the end of every missal, and it is safe today to take it for granted that all intelligent Catholics carry to Mass and use a missal.

Before beginning the Canticle of the Three Hebrew Children in the fiery furnace however, we can pause for a moment to remember the circumstances that make this so important a prayer:

1. The Hebrew youths placed in peril of death find themselves delivered by a miracle of mercy. We may pause to reflect how through temptation we are placed in daily peril of spiritual death.

2. They are saved by the special intervention of God. The special intervention of the Eucharistic Christ saves us again and again from the hot fires of temptation.

3. In gratitude for God’s goodness they call upon all nature to praise God together with them. They summon all the powers of heaven and earth to join them in a great canticle of thanksgiving to God, who has been gracious and generous beyond measure to them. Their prayer aptly describes God’s goodness to us.

4. The Church then adds its own special prayers of thanksgiving, praise, petition, adoration. As we say these prayers, we are using the official language of the Church addressing Christ, its head and master.

The prayers can be recited slowly and thoughtfully, either as vocal prayer or as a kind of grateful meditation.

THIRD THANKSGIVING

The Five Simple Prayers

TH E FOLLOWING prayers are suggested as simple forms of prayer that are modeled on direct conversations with the Eucharistic Christ. Basically they are acts by which the one who has received Holy Communion:

1. Thanks the Saviour for three things.

2. Expresses sorrow for three things.

3. Asks Him for three things.

4. Talks three things over with Him.

5. Promises Him three things.

The form of the prayers is unimportant. The important thing is the calling of the Saviour’s attention to matters of deep concern to us and hence to Him. The number three is purely arbitrary and can be reduced or increased according to the wishes of the one making the prayer.

No words are necessary. A simple consideration of these points will lead easily and naturally into the conversational prayers suited to the thoughts aroused.

1. “I THANK YOU”

Lord Jesus Christ, present in my heart, I thank you for all you have done for me. Surely I am almost beyond all others your favourite child. My life has been a succession of gifts from your loving hands: my birth in a Catholic home and a Christian country; my adoption in baptism as the child of your heavenly Father and as your brother (sister); the care and protection and love that surrounded my infancy; the health and training and soundness of mind and body that marked my growing years. You gave me yourself in the joy of my first communion, as you gave me the Holy Spirit to be my strength and light in confirmation . . . And when I sinned against you, you forgave me in confession and took me back into your love and grace. I have been fortunate in my friends, happy in my associations. Catholic education and training have been mine. And to my natural life you have added the far more important supernatural life of my soul. This moment I am part of your Mystical Body.

For all this I am grateful from my heart. But this morning I thank you especially for these favours:

1. [Mention some favour recently received.]

2. [Mention a favour that came to your family, to some close friend or relative.]

3. [Mention some favour lately given to the world, the Church, or some group of people.]

2. “I AM SORRY”

Yet in spite of your great generosity to me I am deeply conscious of the fact that I have been ungrateful, cruel, ungracious, mortally sinful. By my sins I have used your gifts of mind and heart and tongue and hands to offend you. Through my fault your kingdom upon earth has been retarded and kept back in its advance. I know very well that I have deserved the endless pains of hell. Surely I never deserved the eternal joys of heaven. Because of my sins I should spend long years in purgatory and merit punishment on earth.

But not for any of these reasons do I now tell you my sorrow for sin. I am sorry because your gifts have failed to win my heart. I am sorry because you have been so good and I so ungrateful and criminal. I am sorry because my sins have crucified you, my best friend and most generous benefactor. My sins of the flesh have scourged your back; my sins of the mind have crowned you with thorns; my sins of tongue have cried aloud for your crucifixion; my sins of pride have put a red rag upon your shoulders and a reed in your hand; my sinful loves have driven the lance into your side; my dishonesty has nailed your hands to the cross. Forgive me for what I have done to you, who are so good and merciful.

But this morning I am especially sorry for the following:

1. [Beg pardon for some recent sin of your own commission.]

2. [Beg pardon for some one sin of your past life.]

3. [Beg pardon for some sin common throughout the world today, or for some sin committed by a member of your own family who does not repent.]

3. “I ASK YOU”

Never during your life on earth, blessed Saviour, did you refuse any request. Your goodness to me personally is just another guarantee that that generosity is as true today as it was then. Largely through my own fault and because I have neglected the graces you gave me and because I have sinned, I am weak and poor and needy in soul and body. But you are infinitely rich and powerful, and you love me. May I ask again? Your generosity is bounded only by our willingness to accept and use your favours.

Dear and generous Saviour, you know better than I the things that I most need and that are for my good. In your wisdom grant me these. You know too the things I desire for myself, for others, for the Church, for the sinful world. If they are for our good, grant them, OLord. Especially I beg virtue for my soul, strength against temptation, a closer union with you through grace, more faith and hope, firmer strength. And watch over my life that it may be lived in accord with your wishes and your law.

But this morning I am asking especially for these things:

1. [Ask for some favour for yourself.]

2. [Ask for some favour for those dear to you or connected with you through friendship or dependency.]

3. Ask some important favour for the Church, or for the world.]

4.”MAY I TALK IT OVER WITH YOU?”

Blessed Saviour, life is full of problems and difficulties. There are temptations to be met, decisions to be made, work to be done. There are the difficulties that arise from association with people, from misunderstanding, neglect, unpleasant dispositions. There is the need of walking through the attractive world without falling in love with it.

In all these things I need your wise counsel and direction, your strength, your constant help and support. Unaided, I make recurring mistakes. I decide unwisely and with unfortunate results. My work is spoiled or half done because of my limitations of mind and heart and body. So I come to you as to my wisest friend and best counsellor, asking you what I am to do and how I am to do it. I know you are interested in my life, its problems and successes. You are concerned with my doing well the things you have entrusted to me. You want my conduct to be a help and not a hindrance to others.

And in your life upon earth you met and solved all the problems that ever could be mine. You see just how I can overcome temptation and what decisions I should make. Give me your guidance and light.

And give it too to the world’s leaders, to those who hold the destiny of the Church in their keeping, to my friends and associates.

Especially this morning I wish to consult you about the following things:

1. [Discuss some temptation or trouble and how to overcome it.]

2. [Discuss some problem or decision connected with family, friends, associates.]

3. [Discuss some problem connected with your work.]

5. “I PROMISE”

Lord Jesus Christ, my life in the past has been continuously disappointing and unsatisfactory. I have failed again and again, seen my best resolutions dissipated, my best plans collapse. But the strength and light gained from this Holy Communion give me hope for the future. I have drawn my strength from you, the source of all strength; I shall not fail again. You have given me new light and courage! I cannot but do better.

It is my hope to live my life worthy of your gifts and your love. I want to go back to my daily life carrying you with me in my heart. Let me take you with me to my work and play, my home and occupation, among my friends and associates, everywhere and with whomever I go. My work shall be done for you; my friends shall be loved for you; my amusements shall be worthy of you.

I promise you I shall first of all avoid the occasions of sin. I promise to make my morning offering faithfully, so that the day with all its actions may belong to you. I promise to make my life more like yours. In this I cannot fail, since I have held you in my heart. And in my association with people I shall try to live so perfectly that through me they will be drawn to you, to the faith, to goodness.

Especially this morning I promise you these things:

1. [Promise something regarding sin and its occasions.]

2. [Promise something regarding your attitude toward home or friends.]

3. [Promise something regarding your work or casual associates.]

FOURTH THANKSGIVING

“My Soul Remembers and is Glad”

In this simple thanksgiving we slowly and thoughtfully go through the individual considerations, pausing from time to time to make such acts of faith, love, and gratitude as may be inspired by the consideration of the truths. No prayers are given, only the thoughts which form the basis of the prayers. The prayers will be recited out of the heart of the one who has just received Jesus Christ.

1. “I BELIEVE IN THE BLESSED SACRAMENT”

Lord Jesus Christ, I believe you are present in the Blessed Sacrament:

1. You promised to give men your body and blood for their salvation. “He that eateth my flesh, and drinketh my blood, hath everlasting life; and I will raise him up in the last day.”

2. You proved your power over bread by multiplying the loaves to feed the hungry multitudes; you proved your power over wine when you changed water into wine at the wedding feast.

3. You said in the clearest words: “This is my body; this is my blood.”

4. You commanded your disciples to do as you had done: “Do this in commemoration of me.”

5. St. Paul, writing to the Corinthians, describes the faith and practice of the early Christians as being just what you had commanded them to be.

6. From the beginning the Blessed Sacrament was the center of all Christian life and worship, and so it remained till the sad days of the Protestant rebellion in the sixteenth century.

7. Today your infallible Church teaches, as it has always taught, this beautiful mystery of your love. My Saviour, I believe in the Blessed Sacrament. Strengthen me to see with my mind what I cannot perceive with my senses.

2. “I AM GRATEFUL FOR THE BLESSED SACRAMENT”

Lord Jesus, I am grateful for the Blessed Sacrament:

1. You loved me so much that you could not bear to be separated from me.

2. You performed the wonder of turning bread and wine into your body and blood though you knew the sacrileges and outrages you would suffer in the Blessed Sacrament; and you did so in the desire to remain with me.

3. Because of your presence in the host life can never be lonely to me, for you share my exile on earth.

4. In Holy Communion your strength supplements my weakness, your purity calms my passion, your sinlessness counteracts my temptations.

5. Through Holy Communion I am more intimately and fully united in the life of grace with your Mystical Body; and this fact will greatly increase my glory and joy and happiness in heaven.

6. In Holy Communion you give me the opportunity to ask the gifts I need, to talk over my problems with you, to draw light and counsel and guidance from you, my God and Saviour.

7. No matter what friends may fail me, I know I can always come and find you ready and eager to welcome me, to bring me your love and your sympathy and companionship.

Lord Jesus Christ, I am deeply grateful to you for the great gift of Holy Communion.

3. “I HOPE THROUGH THE BLESSED SACRAMENT”

Lord Jesus Christ, the fact of the Blessed Sacrament makes me hope with new certainty for all else that I need or desire.

1. If you have loved me to the point of giving me yourself in Holy Communion, there is nothing that I may not hope for from you.

2. In the joy of Holy Communion you have given me a foretaste of heaven; and because of this I hope more firmly that you will one day give me heaven itself. To those who have received Holy Communion you have promised that you will raise them up on the last day.

3. I hope now for the strength to overcome my weaknesses, the grace to live beautifully and supernaturally, the grace to bring to others only goodness and truth.

4. I hope to obtain those things which I need for soul and body, for myself and for others, for those I love and for those unfriendly to me, for the Church Militant and the Church Triumphant.

5. And because of all these hopes, my hope of heaven, my hope for strength and increased grace, life will seem easier and safer and happier and a surer way to the eternity in which I shall possess you, not in the faith of Holy Communion, but in the Beatific Vision.

4. “NOW I AM STRONG THROUGH HOLY COMMUNION”

Lord Jesus Christ, because of Holy Communion I feel within me a new strength. I am no longer weak and faltering but strong with a strength that is not mine but yours, not human but divine.

1. What food is to my body, this spiritual bread is to the life and strength of my soul.

2. Martyrs of the early centuries and martyrs in later time received before martyrdom Holy Communion. In the strength of the Eucharist they dared to suffer tortures and face all manner of death without failing. That strength now is mine, and I can face the daily martyrdom of temptation, difficulty and duty, not trusting to my own strength but to yours.

3. Through my veins now flows your purity; your chaste body in the white host has been united with my body, surrounded as I am with temptations; your divinity has come to the aid of my humanity. I can say with St. Paul, “I live, now not I, but Christ liveth in me.”

FIFTH THANKSGIVING

“Welcome to God”

I

LORD JESUS CHRIST, few were ever willing to welcome you when you walked the earth in visible form. The doors of Bethlehem were shut in your face. There was room for all the world but not for you, who had created the world. Only a bleak and dirty stable opened its doors to welcome you, who had come into the world begging the hospitality of the men you had made.

From Bethlehem you were driven out by Herod and found refuge in pagan Egypt among strangers and aliens. Few were the doors that opened to you during your public life, though you said of yourself: “I stand at the gate and knock.” You, who had planted the love of home in human hearts, could say of yourself that the foxes had their holes and the birds of the air their nests but you had no place whereon to lay your head.

Yet when men did open to your knock, how generously you rewarded them!

Peter welcomed you into his home. You restored his mother-in-law through a miracle and later made him chief of your Apostles.

Zaccheus welcomed you, and you gave him faith and an immortal place in your Gospel.

The holy little home in Bethany opened its doors to welcome you, and you brought back its master, Lazarus, from the grave and gave to Mary and Martha your personal friendship and the deep and tender love that made of them great saints.

Mary tended your little home in Nazareth; and because she had given you a little heaven upon earth, you made her Queen of Heaven for all eternity.

II

Blessed Saviour, may I play host to you now in the Blessed Sacrament? Gladly I open my heart to receive and welcome you. Willingly I accept you as my best and dearest guest.

Perhaps you will find my heart much like the stable of Bethlehem. But your presence there will make even my sinful heart beautiful and clean.

Perhaps my soul needs a miracle of healing; but once you are under my roof, I know that you will grant me even miracles.

Like Lazarus and his sisters, may I welcome you to my heart? And may I then sit at your feet while you speak to me the truths you spoke to them? Your infrequent visits to Bethany were enough to make Lazarus, Mary, and Martha saints. Your frequent visits to me surely can make me a saint too.

I have none of that love that filled the heart of your mother when she welcomed you to her home. I have none of that warmth of tenderness with which she surrounded you. But at least I can ask her to assist me in making you feel at home in my heart; I can beg her to obtain for me the graces I need to make my soul an acceptable dwelling upon earth.

III

Blessed Saviour, someday death will come for me; and I shall stand at the gates of heaven, begging for admission. I shall ask then to be your guest for all eternity; and if I am worthy, you will be my divine host.

May I in anticipation of that day offer you in Holy Communion the hospitality which I shall hope to receive from you? You are now the sacred host who has become my guest; then I shall be your guest, begging hospitality of my divine host.

May the warmth of my welcome now assure me of a warm welcome from you when I beg the eternal hospitality of heaven. May you in that day remember that I willingly and eagerly opened my heart to receive you, so that in the day of my death, when, afraid and unworthy, I seek admission to the courts of heaven, you may open the everlasting gates for me.

Lord Jesus Christ, give me the grace to be a not unworthy host to you here on earth, that I may claim with some slight justice your eternal hospitality in heaven.

SIXTH THANKSGIVING

My Transformation

THROUGH Holy Communion strange and marvelous things happen to us. In this thanksgiving, we simply consider some of the marvelous privileges that are ours and say to the Blessed Saviour whatever this consideration prompts.

Now that Jesus Christ is in my heart:

1. I am a living tabernacle. Within me dwells the God of heaven and earth. My body is a living temple in which dwells Jesus Christ, God incarnate.

If this be true, let me consider what care and skill have been lavished upon the dwelling places of God: a. The Jews surrounded their Temple with the perfection of art, decorated it with gold and precious stones, guarded it with their lives. Yet only the shadow of God dwelt there. With what reverence should I regard my body, now the temple of the Eucharistic God! What virtues should fill my soul with their beauty, since it houses the Second Person of the Blessed Trinity! b. Men build the most beautiful structure they can erect to house God dwelling among them. Consider the beautiful Gothic cathedrals, the magnificent churches in every country. But Christ dwells in these buildings only in the hope that He can come into my soul. c. A desecrated tabernacle or church is thought to have suffered the worst of sacrileges. My soul and body have been despoiled by sin. Have I cleared and cleaned them and ornamented them to the best of my ability for the coming of the Eucharistic God?

2. I become for a time a small portion of heaven.

Christ, the centre and heart of heaven, is in my heart. b. Angels gather about me as they reverence the God within me. c. It is within my power to speak directly to God Himself as I shall someday speak to Him in heaven.

Lord Jesus Christ, make me slightly worthy of the wonderful things that have been done in and for me. Make me pure enough to be your temple and your tabernacle. Make me as faithful in your service and as strong in your love as the angels are. Let me carry with me back to the workaday world the portion of heaven that has been mine this morning.

SEVENTH THANKSGIVING

In Union With Mary

No one else ever prepared for the coming of Christ as Mary did. And no one else ever talked with Him in such beautiful intimacy and love. A thanksgiving after Holy Communion spent in imitation of Mary is an effective way of bringing home to ourselves the beautiful reality of Christ’s presence and of teaching ourselves more effectively to talk with Him and to love and honour Him.

1. Mary prepared for the coming of Christ through years of prayer in the Temple and through the perfect humility and purity and sinlessness of her life.

2. When He came, she surrounded Him with the warmth of her love and protection, sheltered Him against her stainless body, and gave Him the perfect service of her life.

3. After the Ascension St. John said Mass for Mary in her rooms in the Cenacle, and Mary made perfect preparation for the coming of the Eucharistic Christ and a thanksgiving that was unique in its love, its intimacy, its complete absorption in Christ present within her heart.

A consideration of these points before receiving Holy Communion is my immediate preparation for Christ’s coming. I compare my own preparation, my soul and body, my love, humility, purity, eagerness, with that of Mary. And

I PRAY

Mary, mother of my Saviour, give me a little of the eagerness with which you waited for the coming of the Saviour and a gleam of the joy that was yours when you held Him in your arms. My soul is utterly unworthy to receive Him because of its sinfulness; obtain for me the grace to cleanse it from its sins, that it may be a little more like yours. When He has come in the past, I have been thoughtless, distracted, busy about other things; obtain for me a little of your love, your devotion to Him, your complete absorption in His presence. May He find in me a reflection of those virtues that made him so eager to come to you. I am making my thanksgiving in imitation of you, welcoming your Son in Bethlehem, welcoming your Eucharistic God in Holy Communion.

After Holy Communion:

1. I recall the purity of Mary’s soul, that was lovely enough to shelter the Son of God. I remember the depths of her humility, that made her call herself God’s little handmaid while she was really God’s mother. This purity and this humility I contrast with my own sinfulness and pride. And

I PRAY

Blessed Saviour, how little I am like your beloved mother! Yet at this moment I hold you in my heart somewhat as she held you in her womb. She brought to you the shelter of a sinless soul. She won your love with her intense, profound humility. My soul is blackened with sin; my heart is filled with unjustifiable pride. I am ashamed of the shelter that I offer you, and I turn and beg grace of your mother. And

I PRAY

Beloved mother, obtain for me some of those graces that adorned your heart, so that I may not be altogether unworthy of offering hospitality to your Son. May I have a little of your purity and sinlessness? May I have something of your beautiful humility? If I can become a little like you, perhaps the Christ, whom now I hold in my heart, may love me a little more because He sees in me some resemblance to His mother.

2. I recall the undivided attention with which Mary devoted herself to Christ in life and to the Eucharistic Christ, whom she received in Holy Communion. She had no other interest but Him. She had no other thought, no possible distraction. With all her powers she adored and loved and served Him. I, on the other hand, find myself easily distracted by many trifling considerations and interests. I give to Him such divided attention. So I PRAY

Lord Jesus, alone among all mortals Mary, your mother, gave you an undivided and completely devoted heart. When you were with her, she had no other thought. When you were present, all other people seemed almost unimportant. Her mind never strayed from your interests, as her eyes never left your face. But I, on the other hand, receive you and then leave you for other thoughts and people. My mind is running riot with distractions. Trivial interests and considerations take the place that should be given over entirely to you. I am ashamed and embarrassed, but again I turn for help to your mother. And

I PRAY

Beloved mother, obtain for me some of that absorption in the Saviour that marked your dealings with your divine Son. You were thoroughly devoted to Him, completely centered in Him. You thought only of Him and His interests. Compared to Him all others seemed unimportant and unworthy. Besides His interest all other interests seemed trifling and insignificant. On the contrary I am filled with thoughts of everyone and everything but Him. May I have a little of your attention, your recollection, your realization of the great privilege and opportunity that came to you with the coming of Christ? If I have only a trifle of this, I know what important things your Son will say to my heart. He will find me more like you and love me more because something of your complete absorption in Him is mine too.

3. Mary talked with Christ in the utmost intimacy and friendliness. She discussed the problems of their life, their needs, poverty, joys, happiness, dealings with relatives and friends. She expressed her love for Him simply and naturally. She knew He was interested in all her concerns, in her aspirations and thoughts; and she was eager to hear what He would say to her in reply.

Silently and wordlessly I listen to an imaginary conversation between Christ and His mother after Holy Communion or during the beautiful association in their holy house of Nazareth: a. She talks of His interests: the success of His Church and His mission among men; the salvation of souls; the winning of the world for His Father. b. She tells Him simply and beautifully that she loves Him. c. In her humility she tells Him how unworthy she is to speak with Him yet how grateful she is that He permits their sweet association. d. As she begged the miracle at the wedding feast, so she asks favours of Him for their neighbours and friends. e. She pleads with Him for the success of His Apostles working in the mission fields. f. She thanks Him humbly for having come and asks Him to stay with her always.

Following her example, I talk over with Christ: a. His interests, His church, souls, the winning of the world. b. My love or lack of love for Him, begging Him to forgive its weakness and to strengthen it. c. My utter unworthiness of His great goodness to me and my gratitude to Him for overlooking this and coming to me in spite of my poverty of soul. d. The success of His priests and religious and missionaries. e. The needs and necessities of my friends and neighbours and associates. f. My own needs, spiritual and physical. g. My gratitude for the great grace of Holy Communion.

I end by asking Mary to thank the blessed Saviour for me, as she can do it much more beautifully and effectively than I.

EIGHTH THANKSGIVING

In Union With the Mystical Body of Christ

THROUGH baptism we become united with that Mystical Body of which Jesus Christ is the head and all Christians are the members. The grace that runs through our spiritual life comes directly from Christ the head. The more grace we possess, the more spiritual life we possess and the happier we shall be for all eternity; for our life in eternity depends upon this spiritual life which is the life of grace. Our intimate association with Christ our head becomes closer and more perfect through Holy Communion. And through Holy Communion we receive great stores of this grace which increases our spiritual or supernatural life.

So in this thanksgiving I recall these important truths and make them the basis of thoughtful gratitude: 1. In baptism I became part of the Mystical Body of Christ. Because of this: a. I was intimately united with God’s only-begotten Son and was beloved by God because of this association. b. I was adopted as God’s child and made one of the heirs of His kingdom. c. My dead soul was awakened to life through the infusion of grace. d. This grace, the basis of my supernatural life, makes it possible for me someday to see God face to face and possess Him for all eternity.

2. Now in Holy Communion I am again more intimately united with Christ our head, and I become more perfectly a part of His Mystical Body. Because of this: a. God the Father regards me with new approval. I can ask favours of Him with fresh courage because of His attitude toward me. [I pause to ask favours.] b. I can adore God more worthily because of my close connection with Christ, His Son. [I pause to adore Him in union with the Saviour.] c. Great floods of grace pour into my soul; and if I use them, my heaven will be happier and my possession of God more complete and satisfactory. [I pause to ask Christ to give me grace, to make me appreciate the importance and value of this grace which gives my soul its supernatural life and its ability someday to see and possess Jesus Christ in heaven.]

1. The consequences of this union with Christ in the Mystical Body are most important: a. When I sin mortally, I cut myself away from Christ and cease to be part of Him. God hates me because I have left this union with His Son. I am supernaturally and spiritually dead and can never see or possess God unless by repentance I am reunited with Christ. b. Sins of impurity are especially terrible. “Can I take the body of Jesus Christ and give it over to impurity?” Yet I do this when I take this body of mine, which was united with the body of the Saviour, and use it for unclean purposes. c. Through this union I am also united with all Christians throughout the world.

Hence:

A. Sins against my neighbour are in a way sins against myself and certainly are sins against Christ Himself. B. On the other hand charity and love for all men is inevitable, because what I do to them I do to Christ, with whom they are united, and in a way to myself, since I am united with Him and with them. [I pause to consider and make resolutions.]

2. Because of my union with Christ in the Mystical Body my work becomes much more precious and important in God’s sight. It is work that is united with Christ’s, work in which Christ shares.

[I pause to offer to God my life in union with His Son. And I determine that my life shall be lived worthy of the cooperation of the Son of God, the Saviour.]

NINTH THANKSGIVING

Holy Communion Is Like Bethlehem

1. Jesus Christ is born again in my soul.

2. My soul is unfortunately much like the stable: cold, ugly, dirty.

3. I myself am like the dwellers in Bethlehem: distracted, careless, cold in love, interested in everyone but Christ. 4. Yet I can bring to Him: a. The lambs of the shepherds, in my purity. b. The gifts of the Magi, in my faith, adoration, sorrow for sin. c. The love of Mary, who will help me adore her Son.

5. Had I been at Bethlehem, what should I have wanted to do? I do this now, while Jesus is in the Bethlehem of my heart.

TENTH THANKSGIVING

Consultation With God

1. I recall what an honour it is to have an interview with the Pope, the President, other great persons. 2. I consider all that could be gained by a sick person’s consulting a great doctor, a man in trouble consulting a distinguished lawyer, a student’s talking things over with a great teacher.

3. For such interviews as this people dress correctly, prepare just what they are going to say and how they are going to say it, determine to treasure up everything they are told by the person consulted, talk as quickly and eagerly as they can when the interview begins.

1. I am being granted an interview with: the Second Person of the Blessed Trinity; the Son of God; the King of Kings; the future judge of the living and the dead.

2. I am permitted to bring my sick soul to the great physician, my troubles of life to the great lawyer, my ignorance to the divine teacher.

3. How have I dressed my soul for this important occasion?

4. What is there I want to say? How shall I say it?

5. I talk fast and eagerly during the few moments of my own interview. And Jesus Christ is giving me His undivided attention.

ELEVENTH THANKSGIVING

Holy Communion as Preparation for Death

1. Death, we know, is inevitable. Yet it is terrible only: a. If I am in mortal sin. b. If Jesus Christ is not my friend. c. If I can look back over a wasted life.

2. So at the hour of death my great desire will be: a. To be in the friendship of Jesus Christ. b. To have Him come in viaticum, to take me safely through death to eternal life. c.To have with me in death my future judge as my friend.

3. YET WHEN I DO COME TO DIE, I MAY BE WEAK, UNCONSCIOUS, PERHAPS STRUCK DOWN BY AN ACCIDENT AND UNABLE TO use viaticum as I shoul d. So I shall use today’s Holy Communion as if it were my last.

4. I make an act of resignation to my death in whatever form it may come.

5. I beg that when death arrives there may be no mortal sin on my soul and that Christ may be my friend.

6. I express sorrow for sin as I should like to do on my bed of death, with judgment just ahead.

7. I plead with the judge, Christ present in my heart, to lead me safely through death into life and to be merciful to me when my judgment comes.

8. I place my hand in His hand, knowing He will lead me safely into eternity.

SUMMARY

PERHAPS in conclusion the one thing to emphasize is that in Holy Communion we receive our best and dearest friend.

That friend is interested in us, in all that we do, all that we need, all that we meet by way of obstacle, joy, problem, happiness, all our friends, all those who do us harm, our work and play.

Thanksgiving after Holy Communion is then the simple conversation by which:

1. We welcome that friend.

2. We make Him feel that we are grateful and that we love Him.

3. We talk over with Him, knowing His keen interest and His great power, whatever concerns us most at that particular time.

4. We put our lives in His hands, knowing that there they are safest.

5. We ask Him not to leave us but to go with us into the day and thence into our whole life, trusting that with Him we can do all that is necessary for success in time and eternity.

Holy Communion is our precious moment alone with our friend. Thanksgiving after Holy Communion is best made in the simple language of friendship.

A FINAL WARNING

Emotion has nothing to do with the value and worth of our Holy Communion-nor has our feeling of joy or delight or intimate association. The value of our thanksgiving is in our desire to welcome Christ and our effort to employ the time of His presence as perfectly as possible.

There are times when the sight of a friend or his presence is a real delight. There are other times when we must make an effort to talk with him and make things pleasant for him. Friendship is proved, not during the moment of delight, but during the moment when we are pleasant in spite of our lack of delight.

To the one who makes an honest effort, emotional joy will often come; but grace and Christ’s approval and blessing will always and infallibly come.

Imprimi Potest: Samuel Horine S.J.

Nihil Obstat:

F.J. Holweck

Censor Librorum

Imprimatur:

@ Joannes J. Glennon

Archiepiscopus Sti Ludovici February 1931.

********

That Jesus Christ Is God

FROM THE WRITINGS OF SAINT ALPHONSUS LIGUORI

INDEX

From “THE HISTORY OF HERESIES, AND THEIR REFUTATION”; OR, “THE TRIUMPH OF THE CHURCH.”

TRANSLATED FROM THE ITALIAN OF Saint ALPHONSUS LIGUORI, BY THE REV. JOHN T. MULLOCK, OF THE ORDER OF Saint FRANCIS, in 1847.

REFUTATION OF THE HERESY OF ARIUS, WHO DENIED THE DIVINITY OF THE WORD

THE DIVINITY OF THE WORD PROVED FROM THE SCRIPTURES

1. The Dogma of the Catholic Church is, that the Divine Word, that is, the Person of the Son of God, is, by his nature, God, as the Father is God, and in all things is equal to the Father, is perfect and eternal, like the Father, and is consubstantial with the Father. Arius, on the contrary, blasphemously asserted that the “Word was neither God, not eternal, nor consubstantial, nor like unto the Father; but a mere creature, created in time, but of higher excellence than all other creatures; so that even by him, as by an instrument, God created all other things. Several of the followers of Arius softened down his doctrine; some said that the Word was like the Father, others that he was created from eternity, but none of them would ever admit that he was consubstantial with the Father. When we prove the Catholic doctrine, however, expressed in the proposition at the beginning of this chapter, we shall have refuted, not alone the Arians, Anomeans, Eunomians, and Aerians, who followed in everything the doctrine of Arius, but also the Basilians, who were Semi-Arians. {We might add the Jehovah Witnesses, who have sadly followed Arius in his great Trinitarian error.}

All these will be proved to be in error, when we show that the Word is in all things, not only like unto the Father, but consubstantial to the Father, that is of the very same substance as the Father, as likewise will be proved to be in error those who laid the foundations of this heresy, by teaching that Christ was only a mere man, born like all others, from Joseph and Mary, and having no existence before his birth. By proving the Catholic truth that the Word is true God, like the Father, all these heretics will be put down, for as the Word in Christ assumed human nature in one Person, as Saint John says: “The Word was made flesh;” if we prove that the Word is true God, it is manifest that Christ is not a mere man, but man and God.

2. There are many texts of Scripture to prove this, which may be divided into three classes.

In the first class are included all those texts in which the Word is called God, not by grace or predestination, as the Socinians say, but true God in Nature and substance. {The Socinians are those 16th century Protestants who question the reality of the Trinity. The Unitarians and the Jehovah Witnesses are their chief modern followers.} In the Gospel of Saint John we read: “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. The same was in the beginning with God. All things were made by him, and without him was made nothing that was made” (John 1.)

Saint Hilary (On the Trinity, number 10) looked on this passage as proving so clearly the Divinity of the Word, that he says, “When I hear the Word was God, I hear it not only said but proved that the Word is God. Here the thing signified is a substance where it is said ‘was God.’ For to be, to exist, is not accidental, but substantial.”

Objection 1. The holy doctor had previously met the objection of those who said that even Moses was called God by Pharaoh (Exodus 8), and that judges were called Gods in the 81st Psalm of the Vulgate (Psalm 82 in the Hebrew), by saying : It is one thing to be, as it were, appointed a God, another to be God himself; in Pharaoh’s case a God was appointed as it were (that is Moses), but neither in name or Nature was he a God, as the Just are also called God: “I said you are gods.” Now the expression “I said,” refers more to the person speaking than to the name of the thing itself; it is, then, the person who speaks who imposes the name, but it is not naturally the name of the thing itself. But here he says the Word is God, the thing itself exists in the Word; the substance of the Word is announced in the very name.

Thus, says the Saint, the name of God given to Pharaoh and the Judges mentioned by David in the 81st Psalm (Psalm 82) was only given them by the Lord as a mark of their authority, but was not their proper name; but when Saint John speaks of the Word, he does not say that he was called God, but that he was in reality God:

“The Word was God.”

3. Objection 2.

The Socinians next object that the text of Saint John should not be read with the same punctuation as we read it, but thus: “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was. God the same was in the beginning,” et cetera, but this travesty of the text is totally opposed to all the copies of the Scriptures we know, to the sense of all the Councils, and to all antiquity. We never find the text cut up in this way; it always was written, “The Word was God.” Besides, if we allowed this Socinian reading of the text, the whole sense would be lost; it would be, in fact, ridiculous, as if Saint John wanted to assert that God existed, after saying already that the Word was with God. There are, however, many other texts in which the Word is called God, and the learned Socinians themselves are so convinced of the weakness of this argument, as calculated only to make their cause ridiculous, that they tried other means of invalidating it, but, as we shall presently see, without succeeding.

4. Objection 3.

It is astonishing to see how numerous are the cavils of the Arians. The Word, they say, is called God, not the God the fountain of all nature, whose name is always written in Greek with the article (o Theos), such, however, is not the case in the text; but we may remark that in this very chapter, Saint John, speaking of the supreme God, “there was a man sent from God, whose name was John,” does not use the article, neither is it used in the 12th, 13th, or 18th verses. In many other parts of the Scriptures, where the name of God is mentioned, the article is omitted, as in Saint Matthew 14:33, and 27:43; in Saint Paul’s First Epistle to the Corinthians, 8:4 and 6; to the Romans, 1:7; to the Ephesians, 4:6; and on the other hand we see that in the Acts of the Apostles, 7:43; in the Second Epistle to the Corinthians, 4:4, and in that to the Galatians, 4:8, they speak of an Idol as God, and use the article, and it is most certain that neither Saint Luke nor Saint Paul ever intended to speak of an Idol as the supreme God. Besides, as Saint John Chrysostom teaches, from whom this whole answer, we may say, is taken, the Word is called God, sometimes even with the addition of that article, on whose omission in Saint John they lay such stress, as is the case in the original of that text of Saint Paul, Romans 9:5: “Christ, according to the flesh, who is over all things, God blessed for ever.”

Saint Thomas remarks, that in the first cited passage the article is omitted in the name of God, as the name there stands in the position not of a subject, but a predicate.

5. Objection 4.

They object, fourthly, that in the text of Saint John the Word is called God, not because he is so by Nature and Substance, but only by Dignity and Authority, just as they say the name of God is given in the Scriptures to the angels and to judges. We have already answered this objection by Saint Hilary (see our Number 2, above), that it is one thing to give to an object the name of God, another to say that he is God. But there is, besides, another answer. It is not true that the name of God is an appellative name, so that it can be positively and absolutely applied to one who is not God by Nature; for although some creatures are called Gods, it never happened that any one of them was called “God,” absolutely, or was called true God, or the highest God, or singularly God, as Jesus Christ is called by Saint John: “And we know that the Son of God is come, and he has given us understanding, that we may know the true God, and may be in his true Son” (1 John Epistle 5:20). And Saint Paul says “Looking for the blessed hope and the coming of the glory of the great God, and our Saviour, Jesus Christ” (Epistle to Titus, 2:13), and to the Romans, 9:5: “Of whom is Christ, according to the flesh, who is over all things God, blessed for ever.” We likewise read in Saint Luke, that Zachary, prophesying regarding his Son, says “And you, child, shall be called the prophet of the Highest, for you shall go before the face of the Lord to prepare his ways” (Luke 1:76), and again, in verse 78:

“Through the bowels of the mercy of our God, in which the Orient from on high has visited us.”

6. Another most convincing proof of the Divinity of the Word is deduced from the 1st chapter of Saint John, already quoted. In it, these words occur: “All things were made by him, and without him was made nothing that was made.” Now any one denying the Divinity of the Word must admit from these words that either the Word was eternal, or that the Word was made by himself. It is evidently repugnant to reason to say the Word made himself. Therefore we must admit that the Word was not made, otherwise Saint John would be stating a falsehood when he says, “Without him was made nothing that was made.” This is the argument of Saint Augustine (On the Trinity, Chapter 6), and from these words he clearly proves that the Word is of the same substance as the Father.

7. We shall now investigate the passages of the second class, in which the Divine Nature and the very substance of the Father is attributed to the Word. First, the Incarnate Word, himself, says: “I and the Father are one” (John 10:30). The Arians say that Christ here does not speak of the unity of Nature but of Will, and Calvin, though he professes not to be an Arian, explains it in the same manner. “The ancients,” he says, “abused this passage, in order to prove that Christ is consubstantial with the Father, for here Christ does not dispute of the unity of substance, but of the consent he had with the Father.” The Holy Fathers, however, more deserving of credit than Calvin and the Arians, always understood it of the unity of substance. Here are the words of Saint Athanasius (Against the Arians, number 9): “If the two are one they must be so according to the Divinity, inasmuch as the Son is consubstantial to the Father they are, therefore, two, as Father and Son, but only one as God is one.”

Hear also, Saint Cyprian: “The Lord says, I and the Father are one, and again it is written of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Ghost, and these three are one.” Saint Ambrose takes it in the same sense, as do Saint Augustine and Saint John Chrysostom, as we shall see presently; why the very Jews took it in this sense, for they took up stones to stone him, as Saint John relates, (10:32): “Many good works I have shown you from my Father; for which of those works do you stone me? The Jews answered him: For a good work we stone you not, but for blasphemy, and because you, being a man, make yourself God.” “See,” says Saint Augustine “how the Jews understood what the Arians will not understand, for they are vexed to find that these words I and the Father are one, cannot be understood, unless the equality of the Son with the Father be admitted.” Saint John Chrysostom here remarks that if the Jews erred in believing that our Saviour wished to announce himself as equal in power to the Father, he could immediately have explained the mistake, but he did not do so, but, quite the contrary, he confirms what he before said the more he is pressed; he does not excuse himself, but reprehends them; he again says he is equal to the Father: “If I do not the works of my Father” he says, “ believe me not; but if I do, though you will not believe me, believe the works, that you may know and believe that the Father is in me, and I in the Father” (John 10:37–38).

We have seen that Christ expressly declared in the Council of Caiphas, that he was the true Son of God: “Again the High Priest asked him and said to him: Are you the Christ, the Son of the blessed God? And Jesus said to him, I am” (Mark 14:61–62). Who shall then dare to say that Jesus Christ is not the Son of God, when he himself has said so?

8. Again, say the Arians, when our Saviour prayed to his Father for all his disciples, he said: “And the glory you have given me I have given to them, that they may be one, as we also are one” (John, 17:22).

Now in this passage, say they, Christ certainly speaks of the unity of will, and not of the unity of substance. But we reply: It is one thing to say that “I and the Father are one,” quite another thing, “that they may be one, as we are also one,” just as it is one thing to say, “your heavenly Father is perfect,” and another to say, “Be ye therefore perfect, as your heavenly Father is perfect” (Matthew 5:48).

For the particle ‘as’ denotes, as Saint Athanasius says, likeness or imitation, but not equality of conjunction. So as our Lord here exhorts us to imitate the Divine perfection as far as we can, he prays that his disciples may be united with God as far as they can, which surely cannot be understood except as a union of the will. When he says, however: “I and the Father are one,” there is no allusion to imitation; he there speaks of a union of substance; he there positively and absolutely asserts that he is one and the same with the Father: “We are one.”

9. There are, besides, many other texts which most clearly corroborate this. Our Lord says, in Saint John, 16:15, and 17:10; “All things whatsoever the Father has are mine.” “And all my things are yours, and yours are mine.” Now, as these expressions are used by him without any limitation, they evidently prove his consubstantiality with the Father, for when he asserts that he has everything the Father has, who will dare to say that the Father has something more than the Son? And if we denied to the Son the same substance as the Father, we would deny him every thing, for then he would be infinitely less than the Father; but Jesus says that he has all the Father has, without exception, consequently he is in everything equal to the Father: “He has nothing less than the Father,” says Saint Augustine, “when he says that All things whatsoever the Father has are mine, he is, therefore, his equal.”

10. Saint Paul proves the same when he says, “Who, being in the form of God, thought it not robbery to be equal with God, but emptied himself, taking the form of a servant” (Phil, 2:6). Now here the Apostle says Christ humbled himself, “emptied himself, taking the form of a servant,” and that can only be understood of the two Natures, in which Christ was, for he humbled himself to take the nature of a servant, being already in the Divine Nature, as is proved from the antecedent expressions, “who, being in the form of God, thought it not robbery to be equal to God.” If Christ usurped nothing by declaring himself equal to God, it cannot be denied that he is of the same substance with God, for otherwise it would be a “robbery” to say that he was equal to God.

Saint Augustine, also, explaining that passage of Saint John, 14:28, “The Father is greater than I,” says that he is less than the Father, according to the form of a servant, which he took by becoming man, but that, according to the form of God, which he had by Nature, and which he did not lose by becoming man, he was not less than the Father, but his co-equal. “To be equal to God in the form of God,” says the Saint, “was, not a robbery, but Nature. He, therefore,” says this Father of the Church (in Epistle 66), “is greater, because he humbled himself, taking the form of a servant, but not losing the form of God.”

11. Another proof is what our Saviour himself says: “For what things whatsoever he (the Father) does, these the Son also does in like manner” (John, 5:19). Hence, Saint Hilary (On the Trinity, number 21) concludes that the Son of God is true God, like the Father. He could not have the same individual operation with the Father, unless he was consubstantial with the Father, for in God there is no distinction between operation and substance.

12. The third class of texts are those in which attributes are attributed to the Word, which cannot apply unless to God by Nature, of the same substance as the Father.

First The Word is eternal according to the 1st verse of the Gospel of Saint John: “In the beginning was the Word.” The verb ‘was’ denotes that the Word has always been, and even, as Saint Ambrose remarks, the Evangelist mentions the word “was” four times. Besides the word “was,” the other words, “in the beginning,” confirm the truth of the eternity of the Word: “In the beginning was the Word,” that is to say, the Word existed before all other things. It is on this very text that the First Council of Nicaea founded the condemnation of that proposition of the Arians, “There was a time once when the Word had no existence.”

13. The Arians, however, say that Saint Augustine interpreted the expression “in the beginning,” by saying it meant the Father himself, and according to this interpretation, they say that the Word might exist in God previous to all created things, but not be eternal at the same time. To this we reply, that although we might admit this interpretation, and that “in the beginning” meant in the Father; still, if we admit that the Word was before all created things, it follows that the Word was eternal, and never made, because as “by him all things were made,” if the Word was not eternal, but created, he should have created himself, an impossibility, based on the general maxim admitted by all. No one can give what he has not.

14. They assert, secondly, that the words “in the beginning” must be understood in the same way as in the passage in the 1st chapter of Genesis; “In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth;” and as these were created in the beginning, so also the Word was created. The answer to this is, that Moses says: “In the beginning God created;” but Saint John does not say in the beginning the Word was created, but the Word was, and that by him all things were made.

15. They object, in the third place, that by the expression, “the Word,” is not understood a person distinct from the Father, but the internal wisdom of the Father distinct from him, and by which all things were made. This explanation, however, cannot stand, for Saint John, speaking of the Word, says: “By him all things were made,” and towards the end of the chapter: “The Word was made flesh and dwelt among us;” now we cannot understand these expressions as referring to the internal wisdom of the Father, but indubitably to the Word, by whom all things were made, and who, being the Son of God, became flesh, as is declared in the same place: “And we saw his glory, the glory as it were of the only-begotten of the Father.” This is confirmed by the Apostle of the Hebrews, when he says, that by the Son (called by Saint John the Word) the world was created. “In these days has spoken to us by his Son, whom he has appointed heir of all things, by whom also, he made the world” (Hebrews 1:2). Besides, the eternity of the Word is proved by the text of the Apocalypse (1:8): “I am Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the end, who is, and who was, and who is to come;” and by the Epistle to the Hebrews (13:8): “Jesus Christ, yesterday, and to-day, and the same forever.”

16. Arius always denied that the Word was eternal, but some of his latter followers, convinced by the Scriptures, admitted that he was eternal, but an eternal creature, and not a Divine Person. The answer given by many Theologians to this newly invented error is, that the very existence of an eternal creature is an impossibility. That a creature, they say, should be said to be created, it is necessary that it should be produced out of nothing, so that from a state of nonexistence, it passes to a state of existence, so that we must suppose a time in which this creature did not exist.

But this reply is not sufficient to prove the fallacy of the argument, for Saint Thomas teaches, and the doctrine is most probable, that in order to assert that a thing is created, it is not necessary to suppose a time in which it was not, so that its nonexistence preceded its existence; but it is quite enough to suppose a creature, as nothing by its own nature, or by itself, but as having its existence altogether from God. “It is enough,” says the Saint, “ to say that a thing has come from nothing, that its non-existence should precede its existence, not in duration, but nature, inasmuch, as if left to itself, it never would have been anything, and it altogether derives its existence from another.” Supposing then, that it is unnecessary to look for a time in which the thing did not exist, to call it a creature, God, who is eternal, might give to a creature existence from all eternity, which by its own nature it never could have had. It appears to me then, that the fit and proper reply to this argument is, that the Word being (as has been already proved) eternal, never could be called a creature, for it is an article of Faith, as all the Holy Fathers teach, that there never existed, in fact, an eternal creature, since all creatures were created in time, in the beginning, when, as Moses says, God created the world: “In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth.” The creation of heaven and earth, according to the doctrine of all Fathers and Theologians, comprises the creation of all beings, both material and spiritual.

The Word, on the contrary, had existence before there was any creature, as we see in the book of Proverbs, where Wisdom, that is the Word, thus speaks: “The Lord possessed me in the beginning of his ways, before he made anything, from the beginning” (Proverbs 8:22). The Word, therefore, is not a created being, since he existed before God had made anything.

17. The materialists of modern times, however, cannot infer from this, that matter is eternal of itself, for although we admit that matter might exist from eternity, inasmuch as God could, from all eternity, give to it existence, which it had not of itself, (though he did not do so in fact); still, as we have proved in our book on the “Truth of the Faith,” it could not exist from itself, it should have existence from God, for, according to the axiom so frequently repeated, it could not give to itself that (existence) which it had not to give. From Saint John’s expression regarding the Word, “by him all things were made,” not alone his eternity is proved, but the power of creating likewise, which can belong to none but God; for, in order to create, an infinite power is necessary, which, as all theologians say, God could not communicate to a creature. Returning, however, to the subject of the eternity of the Word, we say, that if the Father should, by the necessity of the Divine Nature, generate the Son, the Father being eternal, the Son should also be eternal, keeping always in mind, the Father the Generator, the Son as the Generated. Thus, the error of the modern materialists, the basis of whose system is, that matter is eternal, falls to the ground.

18. Now, it being admitted, that by the Word all things were made, it is a necessary consequence, that the Word was not made by Himself, for otherwise, there would exist a being made, but not made by the Word, and this is opposed to the text of Saint John, who says, that “by him all things were made.” This is the great argument of Saint Augustine, against the Arians, when they assert that the Word was made:

“How,” says the Saint, “can it be possible, that the Word is made, when God by the Word made all things? “If the Word of God himself was made, by what other Word was he made? If you say it was by the Word of the Word, that, I say, is the only Son of God; but, if you say it is not by the Word of the Word, then, you must admit, that that Word, by whom all things were made, was not made himself, for he could not, who made all things, be made by himself.”

19. The Arians, too much pressed by this argument to answer it, endeavour to do so by a quibble. Saint John, say they, does not tell us that all things were made by Him, but rather through Him, and hence, they infer that the Word was not the principal cause of the creation of the World, but only an instrument the Father made use of in creating it, and therefore, they agree that the Word is not God. But we answer that the creation of the World, as described by David and Saint Paul, is attributed to the Son of God. “In the beginning, O Lord,” says David, “you founded the earth, and the heavens are the works of your hands” (Psalm 101:26 in the Vulgate or Psalm 102:25 in the Hebrew); and Saint Paul, writing to the Hebrews, dictates almost a whole chapter to prove the same thing; see these passages: “But to the Son, your throne, God, is for ever and ever” (1:8), and again, verse 13, “But to which of the angels said he at any time, Sit on my right hand, till I make your enemies your footstool.” Here Saint Paul declares, that that Son of God, called by Saint John “the Word” has created the heavens and the earth, and is really God, and, as God, was not a simple instrument, but the Creator-inChief of the world. Neither will the quibble of the Arians on the words ‘by’ and ‘through,’ avail, for in many places of the Scriptures we find the word ‘through’ conjoined with the principal cause: (See Genesis 4:1; Proverbs 8:15; 1 Corinth 1:1).

20. There is another proof of the Divinity of the Word in the 5th chapter of Saint John, where the Father wills that all honour should be given to the Son, the same as to himself: “But he has given all judgment to the Son, that all may honour the Son, as they honour the Father” (John 5:22–23). The Divinity of the Word and of the Holy Ghost is also proved by the precept given to the Apostles: “Go ye, therefore, teach all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost” (Matthew 28:19). The Holy Fathers, Saint Athanasius, Saint Hilary, Saint Fulgentius, and several others, made use of this text to convince the Arians; for, Baptism being ordained in the name of the three Divine Persons, it is clear that they have equal power and authority, and are God; for if the Son and the Holy Ghost were creatures we would be baptized in the name of the Father, who is God, and of two creatures; but Saint Paul, writing to the Corinthians, states that this is opposed to our Faith, “Lest any should say that you are baptized in my name” (1 Corinth 1:15).

21. Finally, there are two powerful arguments, to prove the Divinity of the Word.

The first is taken from the power manifested by the Word in the fact related in the fifth chapter of Saint Luke, where Christ, in healing the man sick of the palsy, pardoned him his sins, saying: “Man, your sins are forgiven you” (Luke 5:20). Now, God alone has the power of forgiving sins, and the very Pharisees knew this, for they said: “Who is this who speaks blasphemies? Who can forgive sins but God alone?” (Luke, 5:21).

22. The second proof is taken from the very words of Christ himself, in which he declares himself to be the Son of God. He several times spoke in this manner, but most especially when he asked his disciples what they thought of him: “Jesus says to them, Whom do you think I am? Simon Peter answered and said: You are the Christ, the Son of the living God. And Jesus answering, said to him: Blessed are you, Simon Bar-jona, because flesh and blood has not revealed it to you, but my Father who is in heaven” (Matthew 16:15–17.)

He also declared it as we have seen above, when Caiphas asked him, “Are you Christ, the Son of the Blessed God? And Jesus said to him, I am” (Mark 14:61–62).

See now the argument. The Arians say that Christ is not the true Son of God, but they never said he was a liar; on the contrary, they praise him, as the most excellent of all men, and enriched, above all others, with virtues and divine gifts.

Now, if this man (according to them), called himself the Son of God, when he was but a mere creature, or if he even permitted that others should consider him the Son of God, and that so many should be scandalized in hearing him called the Son of God, when he was not so in reality, he ought at least declare the truth, otherwise he was the most impious of men. But no; he never said a word, though the Jews were under the impression that he was guilty of blasphemy, and allowed himself to be condemned and crucified on that charge, for this was the great crime he was accused of before Pilate, “according to the law he ought to die, because he made himself the Son of God” (John 19:7). In fine, we reply to all opponents, after Jesus Christ expressly declared himself the Son of God, as we remarked in Saint Mark’s Gospel, chapter 14, verse 62, “ I am” though this declaration was what cost him his life, who will dare to deny, after it, that Jesus Christ is the Son of God?

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That Story of Adam And Eve

BY DANIEL A. LORD, S.J

INDEX

Let’s talk about Adam and Eve.

Despite the long history of the human race that lies between us and our first parents, I find that Adam and Eve are unfailingly interesting.

For instance-and it makes a good point of departure-there is the letter I received a few years ago. The writer is a fine Catholic mother. Have no doubt about her faith; it is staunch and loyal, even if her knowledge is not too accurate or her sense of values too keen. After I read the letter, I did a lot of thinking. The letter received one of my promptest answers. And I have often talked about it since.

Using me, as she had often done in the past, as a sort of listening post for her problems, she wrote in this fashion:

A LETTER ON ADAM AND EVE

“I have had a most embarrassing experience today. Probably I am still blushing. My little girl came home from first grade and all in a breath told me the story of Adam and Eve. Really, as I listened to it coming from the excited lips of my baby, I realized for the first time what an act of faith I am required to make whenever I think of our first parents. Honestly, it is a ridiculous story, isn’t it? Of course, I swallow hard and believe it, because I suppose that in some sort of fashion I must. But it does tax an adult’s credulity, doesn’t it?

“While my child was rehearsing the story, my imagination was at work. I seemed to see God lean down, take some wet clay, and mould a little man. It was the sort of thing that a sculptor uses for a trial and puts up on a shelf to dry. Next I saw God stooping over the clay model and breathing hard. Lo, and behold! the little statue started to walk around. Man was made.

“Doesn’t it seem a pretty incredible performance?

THEN THERE’S WOMAN

“Just to add to the fantastic character of the story, God turns surgeon and performs a sort of impromptu major operation. He puts Adam to sleep, using some sort of heavenly ether, I suppose. He removes one of his ribs Then, like some primitive ivory-carver, He shapes the rib into the general outlines of a woman. At first Eve must have looked a little like one of the handles of a Chinese fan. But God breathes again, and the woman starts to move.

“Frankly, and thinking this time as a friend and not a priest, don’t you find all that a little hard to take? What is it? Some allegory or pious fairy tale that got mixed up with our Bible? Whatever your answer, I still wish my baby hadn’t repeated what the dear Sisters taught her. It’s asking a lot of an adult to believe that strange, primitive tale.”

WHY DISTORT?

With the years, I have come to the conclusion that, compared to the fairy tales of primitive man, or of the rising of the human species out of primitive gases in a remote chaos, the story of Adam and Eve makes pretty solid-sounding history. But I”m not taking the question from that viewpoint this time.

Poor Adam and Eve have taken a lot of joking during the centuries. I read the letter with interest, simply because I felt it expressed the typical attitude of a great many quite good people. More than that: it was a perfect instance of the way things in the Bible can be distorted in the retelling of them. It’s like the famous distortion of Jonah, for example, and the so-called whale.

For a lot of wastedyears people argued back and forth about the possibility of a whale’s swallowing Jonah. Nobody seemed to bother about finding out what the Biblical account really stated. If someone did go to the source of the story, the difficulties disappeared. The account states that “the Lord prepared a great fish” with the express purpose of having it ready to swallow Jonah.

Now we may take it for granted that when God prepares anything for a definite purpose the thing is equipped with whatever is necessary for that purpose. I have sometimes said to youthful objectors in what my Irish grandmother used to call half-joke and wholeearnest: “When God prepared that special fish, He may have outfitted it with upper and lower berths, open plumbing, electric lights, and a kitchenette, for all we know.”

The whole argument about what kind of a whale could have swallowed which kind of a man grows silly in the face of this very specially-designed fish. Really, with all respect, we may suggest that God merely anticipated the submarine. His interest in the fate of His prophet inspired the divine ingenuity.

Even if the words whale later appear in the Bible, it still remains a very special type of sea monster designed to swallow Jonah and deposit him safely at his destination.

A TRIFLE?

But to revert to Adam and Eve, one of the basic objections that always recurs centres around their sin. “It was such a trifling sin,” I”ve been told a hundred times. “Imagine! The poor dears were driven out of Paradise for the crime of pilfering an apple?”

Who ever said they ate an apple? The Bible doesn’t state that. In fact, rather recently someone remarked in my presence that he was sure the forbidden fruit must have been an apricot; he particularly liked apricots. The Bible doesn’t say that the fruit was a tangerine or one of the golden apples of the Hesperides. People who were looking for trouble decided that it was an apple.

Or to get things still more confused, people insist that the sin of our first parents was one of impurity. It wouldn’t be too difficult to see how they arrived at this idea. The Bible speaks of forbidden fruit. Some poet one day spoke of illicit sexual pleasure as forbidden fruit. Then someone else said, “Ah! if the sin concerned forbidden fruit, it must have been a sin of impurity, for impurity is forbidden fruit.” And a lot of people got a few simple words muddled, tripped all over their figures of speech, and involved Adam and Eve in sins they never committed.

BUT THIS IS SERIOUS

In plain truth the sin of Adam and Eve was a much more serious offence than the mere reaching out of a greedy hand for a particularly tempting piece of fruit. In the sin of Adam and Eve was the essence of all sin. It was the symbol of every man’s selfish rebellion against God.

Every sin can somehow be reduced to a sin of disobedience. God says to His children, “Don’t!” And his children reply, calmly or passionately, with eyes wide open or lips tightly shut, “I certainly will.” God in His wisdom says, “My child, that is very bad for you; please don’t do it.” The sinner, defying the wisdom of his Father and history’s repeated evidence of the sad effects of sin, retorts, “Why not? I know better than you do, God. What’s more, since you foolishly made me free, I shall use my freedom to grab this thing I want even though in the end it does me and others frightful harm.”

That factor makes any sin fundamentally an act of wilful disobedience. The sinner looks up at his pleading Father and flings his refusal in His tender face. Anyone who has ever looked into the hard eyes and on the tightly-pressed mouth of a disobedient child knows how we must look to the gentle Father, Who asks but does not force, Who pleads with us, His children, but will not oblige us to go the happy, obedient way.

AMBITION GONE SOUR

If Eve had disobeyed God merely because she thought the forbidden fruit a particularly delectable morsel, her sin would have been evil but a little silly. The motive that lay back of her sin was much more tragic. The tempter offered her a bribe too rich to be refused. “If you eat that fruit, its magic properties will make you like God Himself,” he told her, in effect. Because she was sure that the fruit could magically lift her to the level of her Creator, she gripped it with feverish eagerness.

MAN’S MOST FREQUENT TEMPTATION

And Adam fell, as the overwhelming percentage of men have fallen.

When he returned in the cool of the evening, his wife met him, all smiles and sweet seduction. She held out the forbidden fruit in the dear hand that God had fashioned to minister to him.

Adam was no fool. He knew there was something queer about the whole business. He was certainly not hungry for any single piece of fruit in an orchard that was dripping with luscious specimens. He had not even heard the serpent’s promise of godlike powers.

Instead he faced the choice that men have made a hundred million times since then -the choice between his God and his woman. God was remote, and the woman was dear and intimately near. So, like a hundred million men since that fatal evening, he turned from his God and chose his woman.

It was the idolatry that brings men to their knees before the women whose beauty blinds them.

THE BASIC SIN

So you see the sin of Adam and Eve was no minor injustice, like the neighbourhood cop’s picking up an apple from the corner fruit-stand. It was a sin that contained all the essential elements of all the sins that men and women could commit.

It was an insolent and wrong-headed disobedience to a Father Whose generosity was unbounded.

It was the elevation of human judgement above the judgement of God. A human pair decided that they knew more about what made happiness than God did. They took the responsibility for defying God’s advice and going after the good they saw and desired.

It was a greedy discontent with God’s lavish abundance. All the other trees in the luxurious garden were not enough. God had no right to reserve even one tree for His own use. They wanted that, too, and they pilfered it.

It was the haughty desire of mortals to climb to the same level as God Himself, to become His equals, to share His knowledge and snatch His powers.

It was the thrusting aside of the all-beautiful God and His love, to find love in the arms of a desired woman.

It was a woman’s betrayal of the man who loved her, a betrayal through the love that was meant to ennoble him.

Finally, it was the revolt against God and in favour of His relentless enemy. It was high treason, by which the human race was surrendered to its merciless foe.

LO! THE SERPENT

A great many shelves in a great many libraries could not hold all the books that have been written to explain the serpent in Eden.

Scholars have reminded us learnedly of the snake worship that degrades pagan peoples. They point to the snakes that crawl in eternal sculptured writhings around the friezes of pagan temples. They recall that snakes were worshipped in Babylon and Egypt and even in Aztec Mexico. They do not hesitate to leap a few hundred centuries in order to link the serpent of Paradise with the serpent of voodoo Haiti.

All of that is interesting, but from our immediate viewpoint quite superfluous.

For among His infinite perfections we must note that God is a poet. Symbolism is part of His most constant expression of His truths. Rhythm runs all through nature, from the beat of your pulse to the measured movements of the stars, from the dance of a horse’s hoofs to the recurrence of the tides and the seasons.

God was a poet when He gave us the outward signs of the sacraments.

He was a poet when He established the universe in measured pulse and beat.

SATAN COMES CRAWLING

So, when God allowed His children their first clear vision of the tempter, the evil one, who comes bringing sin, death, and evil, He was tricking His adversary, Satan, into playing a symbolic role. Satan chose, out of all the possible disguises he could have selected, the one disguise rich in poetic justice. He came to man on his first visit in the guise of a snake.

How Satan could have been betrayed into so abject a humiliation, God alone can some day tell us. Surely out of his shattered beauty and strength Lucifer could have done better than that. He might have found a disguise to suggest his ancient state. Had he wrapped himself in the tattered splendour of the past, gullible Eve might have been impressed and Adam might have gone down upon his knees. For angels are higher on the scale of being than are men, and even a fallen angel can trick men into thinking him glorious and powerful. The devils who dwelt upon high altars under the names of Moloch and Belial and Beelzebub proved that.

THE FILTHY DISGUISE

Yet Lucifer actually chooses for his first appearance as tempter a disguise that becomes the eternal symbol of all tempters. He comes as a serpent.

He enters the earth, not with dignity, but crawling.

In the manner of all first inclinations to evil and treason, he wriggles into the presence of his hoped-for victims. He cannot come with forthright courage, confessing his identity; he comes creeping through the dank grass.

He speaks with no honest, candid tongue. His speech is forked, double. His words roll from the red, tricky, poisonladen tongue that darts and strikes and kills.

He does not approach Eve as an equal. He rises from under her feet, insinuating himself into her presence, as he hopes in slimy fashion to insinuate himself and his lies into her mind.

He makes no pretence to nobility. He drops down from heaven and rises from hell to play a part in the reptile kingdom; he comes on his belly among the worms of death, the crawling scavengers who lurk on the underside of damp stones, the vermin that gnaw silently at the foundations of our cities.

He and his words seem to twist and writhe together. As his long, glittering, repulsive body winds and undulates, his words twist into half-truths, whole lies.

PERFECT SYMBOL OF SIN

If Lucifer had tried to select out of all creation the disguise to typify most perfectly the deed he was about to do, he could not have selected with more dramatic fidelity any other than the one he chose. A sublime irony drives him, the villain of the piece, to come in most unattractive form. He, the traitor, confesses what he is, a snake in the grass.

Here, indeed, is high poetic justice. There is grim humour in the sight of this proud angel of light crawling on his belly towards his rendezvous. There is ghastly tragedy in this soaring spirit now levelled to the snakes, who will throughout all history make men and women shudder and draw back.

Probably, even if he had not chosen this disguise, we should still have used the hateful figure of speech; under the impulse of his trickery, we speak instinctively of a traitor as “the viper at one’s bosom.” We paint the traitor crawling up to strike his victim with a cobra-like head. We think of sin as the poison hidden in the deadly fangs of the asp, the rattler.

In actual fact, many a snake is a good and faithful friend of mankind, destroying man’s real enemies, rats and destructive insects. Lucifer has, by his filthy disguise, made us lump all snakes together in common villainy. All men who tempt the innocent to their ruin are characterized as “those snakes!”

PATTERN FOR SEDUCTION

Since the day when Satan seduced poor mother Eve, many an author has written many a scene of seduction. Some of those scenes have been brutally flat and vulgar. Some of them have had the subtle fascination that is created when expert betrayers stalk innocence.

But the most brilliant seduction in literature cannot pretend to match the insinuating skill and finesse of this first of all seductions. In fact, it has become a pattern for the million approaches of a million seducers who have styled themselves on the Devil himself to win their victims to submission and consent.

TECHNIQUE

The serpent’s approach begins most respectfully, almost with regret. There is no harsh demand, no flat assertion. There is a delicate question, a thinly-veiled compliment, a gesture ofsympathetic understanding for a victim’s oppressed lot.

“Why,” asks the serpent, and there is a choke in his voice, “has God commanded you, that you should not eat of every tree of Paradise?”

One can easily paraphrase that brilliantly-worded sentence.

“You poor dear!” says the serpent, in effect. “Here you are, lovely, charming, and, above all, clever; yet God has laid heavy limitations on your liberty. Really, my dear, I cannot see how you stand it. I admire you enormously for submitting, when after all no one with a sense of beauty would lay any sort of command upon you. You should be free, my pet, free and unfettered by any law.”

Cleverly he levels at God a wide and brutal charge.

He insinuates that God has forbidden to them all the trees of Paradise: “ . . . that you should not eat of every tree. . . .” He makes God’s mild command-to leave one tree untouched-sound like the most villainous act of tyranny. A gentle law is suddenly made to look black and heavy. He charges God with selfish monopoly, the exclusion of His own children from the delights of the garden in which He has placed them.

SUBTLE APPROACH

How like this is to the approach of all the seducers from that day to this.

“My dear, how cruel that any law should make life difficult for you! Surely this rule was not meant for you, this ugly, oppressive law that binds your lovely hands and shackles your dancing feet. How could anyone be so cruel as to chain your free soul? Here are the really joyous things of the world, and a tyrant holds you back from them. How unfair! How brutal! And may I say how much I admire you for submitting without complaint to such rotten injustice?”

Satan has set an enduring example. His approach is perfect.

Eve naively answers him. She should have called him a liar for his ridiculous exaggeration. She should have turned away in disgust from this creeper, who lifts his head to poison the garden with falsehoods against the garden’s gracious Creator.

Instead, like tempted men and women ever since her day, she meets the lies with sweet reasonableness and answers the tempter with grace and amiability.

“Of the fruit of the trees that are in Paradise we do eat,” she explains.

We can almost hear the tempter retorting, “Ah, really?” as his eyes skip the thousand fruit-laden trees to find the one tree that has been forbidden them. In that one contemptuous look he dismisses the rest of the trees as worthless and gloats upon the one tree worth their desiring.

EVE ANSWERS

Eve’s eyes follow his and find the tree.

How beautiful it seems there in the warm hush of the afternoon, the sunlight stroking its fruit and turning them into things very magic and fascinating. She tears her eyes away with difficulty. And then, prototype of a million poor girls, she hastens to explain to the tempter that, after all, things are really not half so bad as he paints them.

“But of the fruit of the tree which is in the midst of Paradise, God has commanded us that we should not eat; and that we should not touch it, lest perhaps we die.”

She has already reached the point where she puts the whole case in the subjunctive. It is not a plain statement of fact but a sort of hesitating rehearsal of something she has heard but now is not quite sure she believes.

“That’s what God says,” she seems to infer. “Now, of course, I personally wouldn’t know. God may have been fooling us all the time. Possibly we could eat the fruit without anything happening to us. Death does seem a great and heavy penalty for so slight a violation. But then since God said it, I shouldn’t want to take the risk. Even though I must confess, there is a look in your eye that seems to say you doubt it all.”

PERSUASION

Indeed the look in his eye is cynical.

Almost we see his flat, subtle head lifted in what corresponds to tolerant laughter. The girl realizes at once that he feels sorry for her innocence, her gullibility. Evidently he thinks that she is the sort to believe anything, no matter how inconvenient or ridiculous. Anyone should know, his laughter implies, that when you eat fruit you grow stronger and live longer. Fruit is excellent for the constitution.

How ridiculous to pay attention to the statements of a God Who quite clearly is bent on scaring a pair of young children out of the chance for a little fun, a bit of spirited adventure!

“No,” he reassures her, “you shall not die the death.”

Like all the world’s seducers he pushes aside all thought of the possible consequences of sin. “Ridiculous!”-so might modern phraseology paraphrase it. “Who ever told you that if you sinned you would be punished? My dear child, where did you ever get the ridiculous notion that sin is other than sweet and delicious? What a pity they have frightened you all this time with poppycock about the wages of sin and the penalties of vice! Really I”m disgusted with them for frightening you. Yet, candidly, I”m a little embarrassed with you for believing such nonsense.

“On the contrary,” he seems to insinuate, “you may take my word for it that this is precisely the thing that you need. It will do you a world of good. God knows that, too, but then God isn’t so interested in your health . . . your good time . . . your full development . . . as I am.”

“For God,” says the serpent, “does know that in what day soever you shall eat thereof, your eyes shall be opened; and you shall be as Gods, knowing good and evil.”

WILY ADVICE

“So that was what lay back of the command!” thinks Eve; “God’s unwillingness to see us climb beside Him, His reluctance to have us as wise as He is, to have us know the things He knows!”

Her fingers itch. Her eyes glow with anticipation. Quite clearly the serpent knows what he is talking about. He is so convincing, so sophisticated and worldly-wise.

How mean of God if all the time He has been depriving them of a clear vision of life! Oh, to see life completely! To have experiences about which one can brag! Not merely to know good, which often enough seems boresome and monotonous, but to relish this mysterious thing called evil!

Evil! She rolls the word over on her tongue. It is a seductive word, a hypnotic word, a word full of amazing and amusing suggestion.

To think that, just because of her failure to show a little daring, God had been allowed to bar her from savouring this evil and tasting its delights!

Yet, above all the other promises, one rang in her mind like glad, challenging music . . .

“You shall be as Gods. . . .”

Why, if that were true, then God Himself could lay no more commands upon her. She could do just as she pleased. God’s powers would be her powers. She wouldn’t be just a little, inexperienced girl; she would be a wise, experienced, profound, worldly woman.

THE TREE OF TREES

She looked again at the tree, this time hungrily.

She felt that she had really never seen it before.

Up to this time she had been busy exploring the limitless delights of the garden; she had had hardly time more than to glance at the forbidden tree. It was quite an art to twine roses, and she was learning it. With housewifely skill she was learning to select those fruits which gave substantial nourishment and those which were merely a delight to the palate, and those the juices of which quenched one’s pleasant thirst. Really, she had hardly more than begun to explore the resources of the Paradise about her.

But now everything she had done before seemed routine and tiresome. She saw adventure and experience ahead. All else was stale and tasteless.

“[She] . . . saw that the tree was good to eat, and fair to the eyes, and delightful to behold.”

Was that one forbidden tree really much fairer than the others? Who knows? Was its fruit really the most luscious of all the fruits in the garden? Possibly. But that is all part of the other eternal question: Is sin ever really more attractive t han virtue? And to that the answer is an unfailing “Certainly not.” Yet, when the imagination plays around it, when the shrewd salesman of sin rehearses his sales talk and stimulates a too-willing fancy and whets an acquiescent appetite. . . .

Eve ran to the tree and pulled towards her the fruit-laden branch, which seemed to bend to offer itself to her hand.

“And she took of the fruit thereof, and did eat.”

THE TEMPTER FADES

The seducer had won his victim. The first story of innocence betrayed becomes the paradigm on which all future betrayals can be fashioned.

Then, his work done, the tempter fades from the scene. He rustles away through the grass, hardly disturbing a leaf. Why should he stay to watch the certain wreckage? He crawls off to gloat. He must find a place where he can throw off his disguise and laugh and exult and hug his obscene joy to his heart.

Here is a scene so perfectly worked out that only the person without imagination or the man without poetry in his soul can fail to sense the eternal quality of the story. No drama or novel or poem of seduction will ever tell the course of seduction so completely, humanly, convincingly.

Unfortunately, seduction has come tomean largely the incitement to sins of passion. That is a limitation to seduction’s most frequent form. But seduction is that wooing and winning of men and women to betray their loyalties. It is the clever siege which villainy lays to innocence. It is the brilliant twist by which men and women are won from the side of bright, shining goodness to the side of smelly, repellent evil.

AND THE MAN . .

And the story completes its cycle with the return of Adam.

Happy over the day’s work in the luxuriant garden, he stretches out his arms to his wife.

But between them she holds out the forbidden fruit.

A first gasp of horror constricts his throat. What has she done? What atrocious folly is this she invites him to share? Then it comes over him with a rush that she has eaten of the fruit and that a penalty falling upon her would separate them, perhaps, forever. The fruit in her outstretched palm grows suddenly into a barrier separating them. It is almost as if he cannot come to her again unless he surmounts that tiny mound now grown mountain-high.

She smiles at him across the yawning distance.

He seems to see her sin thrusting her away from him. There is something of her that he does not now share, a part of her that no longer is his. And the smile of invitation on her lips calls to him to come and take that part . . . to hurry to her across the chasm she has already dug . . . to grasp her once more before she is swept away from him by death or the wrath of the God Who commanded them not to touch that fruit.

HIS GOD OR HIS WOMAN?

He reaches for the fruit, not because it is sweet and attractive and delicious, but because it rests on the hand he longs to hold and because it stands between him and the woman he must have.

He eats.

The story reaches its full close.

The eternally-recurring pattern of sin has been established by a man, a woman, and the seducer, who knew how to crawl into the vanity and passion and pride of the sons and daughters of God.

CREATION ONCE MORE

Now we revert to the question of God’s creation of Adam and Eve. And since everyone talks about the story and few bother ever to read the bold statements in which the Bible records the creation of Adam and Eve, we owe it to ourselves to put those statements down here.

With a fine sense of the dignity of mankind the sacred author first tells the history of man’s creation in a passage that serves as magnificent libretto for a great oratorio.

“And He [God] said: Let us make man to Our image and likeness; and let him have dominion over the fishes of the sea, and the fowls of the air, and the beasts, and the whole earth, and every creeping creature that moves upon the earth.

“And God created man to His own image; to the image of God He created him; male and female He created them.”

Thus far the entrance of man uponthe world scene is certainly grand drama. In literal sense he comes “trailing clouds of glory.” The sacred author seems, indeed, to be so fascinated with the realization that man was actually made to mirror the infinite God that three times within two sentences he insists upon the fact. He shouts to the high heavens the glorious phrase: “ . . . to His own image.”

In that magnificent second sentence he cries, boldly, “God created man to His own image”; and then as if to make sure that the sense is utterly clear, he reverses the order: “to the image of God He created him.”

DOMINION

What other origin could be more splendid than that?

Thus far there is nothing in the Biblical account which is not noble and regal and godlike.

Next, God, with divine generosity, shares with His new creature His own world-wide domain. He delivers into the hands of this new child of His love the earth and all that it contains. Under His newly-formed hand He subjugates as bondslaves the fishes, the birds, the beasts, and-lest their insignificance let them escape-the very things that crawl under the earth.

When Lucifer looked for a disguise, he was forced to select one of the creeping things which the generous Father had already subjected to the rights and powers of man.

GOD’S OWN RECORD

The second time the sacred author tells of man’s creation, he goes into the details which excited the embarrassment of the mother who wrote me the letter that I quoted in the introduction to this booklet. Rather-let’s make it clear-what embarrassed her was the badly-paraphrased story she had heard from the child. The record runs thus:

“And the Lord God formed man of the slime of the earth; and breathed into his face the breath of life, and man became a living soul. . . .

“And the Lord God said:

“It is not good for man to be alone; let us make him a help like unto himself. . . . “

“Then the Lord God cast a deep sleep upon Adam; and when he was fast asleep, He took one of his ribs, and filled up flesh for it.

“And the Lord God built the rib which He took from Adam into a woman; and brought her to Adam.

“And Adam said: This now is bone of my bones, and flesh of my flesh; she shall be called woman, because she was taken out of man.

“Wherefore a man shall leave father and mother, and shall cleave to his wife; and they shall be two in one flesh.”

NO PARAPHRASES HERE

Naturally I should not care to defend the various distortions of this amazing story. The story has been simply retold for the child, elaborately for the learned, cynically for the sceptic, reverently for the saint. Some of these retellings are beautiful. Some of them are absurd. Some of them have simply made the exalted account a little fuller. Some have been ugly parodies intended to excite laughter and ridicule.

But, then, it is possible to distort the simplest story and to make ridiculous and ugly man’s most sacred history.

And quite often words themselves are so magnificent and clear that amplification is unnecessary and paraphrase an impertinence.

Yet we can examine these records reverently. And we shall.

GOD THE ARTIST

One hurried glance at the world, and we are ready to confess God the world’s one great artist. Indeed, it is God Who makes possible the weak, imitative art of us human beings. He turns divine landscape gardener and traces a mountain range, a forest, the course of a river, the movement of the eternally-varying sea. Then some great landscape painter catches a fraction of the divine setting upon a canvas, and the galleries of the world bid for the right to exhibit what they could see by looking through an open window. He made the body of man or a woman and achieved an artistic perfection which is still the challenge and the despair of the sculptor.

Whether God designed a snowflake in the pattern of a lace veil, or the incredible variety of the flowers, or the grace of a deer, or the iridescent plumage of a pheasant, the wing of a butterfly, the hidden flame of a diamond, He remained the artists” artist. He carelessly established patterns of perfection that never could be copied by all the long generations of painters and sculptors and workers in metal and stone.

HE BEGINS HIS MASTERPIECE

So, like an artist, God approached the making of His masterpiece, man.

He was doing more than making merely a single individual. He was doing more than starting the human race on its course. He was establishing a technique by which all the artists of the world would henceforth work.

Out of the wet clay which is the earth’s slime He models an exquisite figure. He shapes it with an artistry that will leave the succeeding artists helpless to duplicate or imitate. Soon He holds the model of a man.

We can imagine, when His clay man is finished, the divine artist looking upon His artistic work and knowing that it is excellent. “Good,” the Scriptures call it; magnificent we know it to be.

PYGMALION -A LEGEND GROUNDED IN TRUTH

Now, every artist that ever lived, when he looked upon his masterpiece, instantly fell in love with it. That is the most natural and uniform of reactions. A thousand stories have been built around that response. Of these the ancient story of Pygmalion and Galatea is the most famous and durable.

You remember it well. Onlyrecently George Bernard Shaw’s play, “Pygmalion,” was given to us musically in “My Fair Lady.” The story: A learned scholar declares that he can make a lady out of the veriest London slavey. He gets the girl from the slums, fashions her manners and her speech, teaches her the ways of society, builds up within her a trained mind and an exquisite culture. And when he has completed his job, he suddenly knows that he has fallen in love with the woman he had made. That is the ancient Greek legend in modern dress.

The traditional legend is simpler and sweeter.

In his open-air studio. Pygmalion, the Greek sculptor, works patiently at his art. But always before him is the dream of a perfect woman. He will carve her some day. He will make a figure of the most beautiful woman an artist ever conceived. One day he begins his work. This time he disdains any living model. No mere woman will satisfy his demands. He wants to create out of a marble nymph straight from the hands of the gods, a work worthy of the creative interests of the Olympians.

But first he moulds his clay in the miniature of a woman lovelier than any that walks the streets of Athens or sings in the groves of Corinth. With fingers of sheer genius he fashions the clay, and a dream woman takes shape under his artist touch.

When the clay figurine is finished, Pygmalion selects the perfect block of stainless marble; and blow by blow, day after day, he cuts from the perfect stone the figure of the exquisite woman who has haunted his dreams.

PYGMALION-THE GODS INTERVENE

In the end his statue stands there in his studio, cool, white, inanimate, but endowed with all the beauty that genius can draw out of a fiery imagination and the marble which God set in the hills for the skill of His artistic sons.

His friends come and stand in wordless admiration. Never was there a woman as lovely as this one. A purchaser hurries in and offers a fabulous price. The artist hardly hears him. He is overcome with the beauty he has created. He has fallen in love with the stone woman he made.

Then, said the wise old Greeks, who understood human nature thoroughly, he did a thing of which the gods approved. He lifted his hands to high Olympus and cried: “She is too beautiful not to live. She is too lovely to be mere stone. O immortal gods, give life to my creation. Endow with a living soul this statue I have made.”

Artist-like, he had fallen in love with his own masterpiece. In that easiest to understand of human reactions he wished that so beautiful a creature might live and move and speak and love him in return.

According to the gracious legend of old Greece, the gods smiled upon the artist, his statue and his love for it. Into the cold, perfect body of the statue they dropped a human soul. The marble began to glow with delicate colours. A faint flush appeared in the cheeks. The hair, stiff in its graven lines, suddenly grew soft and flexible. The fingers moved. The lips opened. The eyes gazed with love upon the man who had carved them.

Slowly the statue came to life.

Whereupon the artist, Pygmalion, married in perfect happiness the woman he had made from stone. She was too lovely not to live. The gods themselves were willing to grant a soul to so beautiful an image.

MICHELANGELO’S WORK

A similar impulse fired Michelangelo-but with different results.

In a burst of genius he completed his great statue of Moses. Quite candid in his admiration of the masterpiece he had wrought, he stood back to look at it. There in glorious, if mute, reality sat the great lawmaker, his powerful body twisted in a blend of thought and determination, his great, noble head turned expectantly towards the people, his arms clasping the Ten Commandments, with which God had just entrusted him.

Michelangelo felt as if he were on Mount Sinai. Almost as if for the first time Moses seemed to appear ready to step out before the Jewish people and promulgate God’s eternal law. The artist was enormously moved by the statue he had made. It was too glorious to be allowed to stay there endlessly mute.

Now, if you are without imagination, his next gesture may seem to you silly or useless.

If, however, you have the slightest knowledge of human nature or any insight into the artistic soul, you will understand what he did.

The great sculptor picked up the mallet with which he had carved his masterpiece. He weighed it for a second in his hand. If with that mallet he wrought this masterpiece before him, perhaps that same mallet could work just another miracle.

He swung the mallet and smacked it against the marble of his sculptured Moses.

“Speak!” he commanded. “Speak!” he thundered, with all the compelling power of his will.

But nothing happened. No miracle occurred. Moses sat there, still dumb.

Michelangelo had been able to work cold marble into the glorious figure of the Jewish lawgiver. Before it millions would, until the end of time, stand in awed admiration. But the sculptor had not the power necessary to inflame this marble with the vital spark. He could not give his statue speech and a soul.

Much as he loved his own masterpiece, he knew it was destined to sit silent, motionless, until the end of time.

THE GREAT ARTIST SPEAKS

Now all this may make the creation of man seem a little easier to understand. For God, the great artist, also fell in love with the figure He had made-man.

God,the artist’s artist, made out of the clay of earth the amazing figure of a human being. There in the cold clay were the outlines of rippling muscles and the strong curves of arms and legs and torso. The sightless eyes looked out blindly towards their Creator, dull and dead. The lips, framed for speech, were wordless. The heart within, poised as if waiting for its first beat, the first spark of love, was without motion. Thus far God had made a lovely but lifeless statue of a man.

What more natural than the next step that the Master Artist took?

Only unlike Pygmalion, He did not need to lift His arms to some mythical Olympus. Unlike Michelangelo, when He commanded His statue to speak, it would speak.

Within this artist was the great creative power of His Fatherhood. He needed to take only one further creative step, and the statue in the palm of His hand would move, speak, live, love.

And God breathed into the face of man the breath of life. And he became a living soul.

The eyes of the masterpiece looked up and saw their Creator and dropped in reverent awe. The lips of the statue began to speak His praise. The heart beat once and then leaped in ecstasy of love as it acknowledged the greatness of the God Who had endowed it with a soul to His own image and likeness.

God, the greatest of all artists and the prototype on which all artists work, watched His masterpiece become His man, His cold creation become His living child, the model He had made suddenly walk the earth, His son, His image, His heir apparent.

WHAT ALL ARTISTS DESIRE

Anyone who does not see in all this the most natural and understandable of dramas simply has no poetry in his soul. Indeed, 1 should be inclined to say that he has no knowledge either of God or of human impulses that come from God’s creative nature.

Throughout the course of artistic history great artists have longed to do precisely what God actually did. They have been limited by their human weakness. He could speak His creative Fiat, and before Him walked a beloved Son capable now of loving Him and of doing His work on earth. God could turn the cold clay of a masterpiece into the warm image of Himself. Need we be surprised that He did just that?

WOMAN IS MADE

Women should be delighted that God created woman in precisely the fashion that He chose to do it. The manner in which woman was created puts her in a position that makes possible her high dignity and her assurance of protection from the men of the race.

But here again in the creation of woman God moves in the realm of high artistic poetry.

The woman He meant to make was to be closer to her husband than was his own heart. She was to be bone of his bone and flesh of his flesh, dependent upon him in many charming ways but always a living part of him, himself lifted into fresh reality.

So God chose to make woman out of the rib of the sleeping Adam. Perhaps even as he slept, Adam dreamed of the perfect helpmate, whom he had not found among the animals. The dreams God sends are sometimes very beautiful.

From that part of the man which actually is nearest to his heart, his ribs, God selects part of man’s essential structure. From this rib he makes the first woman.

With a smile Eve could say to her husband, “Man was taken from the slime of the earth; woman was taken from the living breast ofa man.” Perhaps fancifully we might suggest that for that reason woman should be more humane, less earthly.

AGAIN, THE ARTIST

God, once more the artist, fashions this new and exquisite creature with infinite perfection. Yet as He works, He broods over the deep symbolism of what He does. Woman has come from the breast of man; and to that breast she is to return in high human love. Woman comes from within the circle of his arms because she can return there to find rest, strength, protection.

Woman, because of her origin, can and must admit her dear dependence upon the physically stronger man. Yet she rightfully can demand of him thesame watchful protection he gives to himself. For, after all, isn’t she part of him, a part miraculously removed yet beautifully returned to his safe keeping?

LUCKILY FOR WOMEN

Precisely this is the response Adam gives to the vision of Eve, his helpmate.

His first words, when he looks upon her, are not, “You are beautiful.” He does not even say, “I love you.” He says something far more important for her whole future. He refers her immediately to himself and assumes voluntarily his deep responsibility to her to protect and care for her. Anticipating the dear Christ, Adam knows he must love his woman as himself.

“This [woman] now,” he cries, “is bone of my bones, and flesh of my flesh; she shall be called woman, because she was taken out of man.”

And he smiles in welcome upon the woman who comes back to him in a union of love, precisely because she was taken from him by a God of love. He holds her to his heart, from which just a few minutes before she has been symbolically carved.

CONSEQUENCES FOR WOMEN

Instantly the sacred writer draws the inevitable, inescapable consequences. This origin of woman from the body of man is her guarantee of clear rights, her claim in personal protection from man.

“Wherefore”-because a woman was taken from the body of a man and returned to him in love-”a man shall leave father and mother, and shall cleave to his wife; and they shall be two in one flesh.”

A moment before they had really been one flesh, the flesh of the solitary Adam.

Now, once more, they are to be one flesh, reunited in blessed and voluntary love.

And the woman can lay to her husband a claim that takes precedence over the claims of anyone else in the world-yes, even over the claims of the mother who bore him.

WOMAN FROM MAN

So to this day the woman who catches the vast significance of this amazing history of her origin can look upon her husband and say, half-seriously, halfjestingly: “My dear, I belong to you as your body belongs to you. I came from your body, and of my own will and God’s design I return to you. Protect me as you protect yourself. Hold me safely near the heart from which I originally came. When you love yourself you are loving me; when you love me, you are loving yourself.”

God’s simple method of creation has put all this happily within the power and province of woman. Can any woman speak other than with gratitude and respect of God’s delightful care of her origin ?

THE BEAUTIFUL TRUTH

So it seems to me that the letter I quoted, like the jests and arguments directed against Adam and Eve, is based on sad misunderstanding. If anything, I am embarrassed that mankind has missed the high poetry and artistic beauty of the story of our first parents. I am ashamed that a Catholic woman could have so little insight into the marvellous dignity and charm with which God surrounded the beginnings of the human race.

Later God Himself was to write a story more beautiful than that of Adam and Eve. He was to give the world a woman conceived utterly free from stain, a woman whose foot would crush the head of the crawling tempter, who had so badly tricked the first Eve. He was to give all mankind His only-begotten Son, Who was born in the loveliness of Bethlehem, lived the perfect life, and died on Calvary as a culmination of all gifts and sacrifices and love itself.

But the story of Adam and Eve is still the world’s second most charming history. Can any man or woman suggest how else God could have achieved His purpose of making the beginnings of the human race more dignified, beautiful, artistic, and poetic?

Frankly, I doubt if there is an answer to that query except a humble bowing of the head before God’s creative act set in the splendour of a garden and marked with the delicate touch of the divine poetic artist.

That is why I have always loved the story of Adam and Eve. It makes me proud to be human, and to be a man. It makes me glad that my Father is the kind of God He is. It opens the story of the human race in a burst of glorious poetry, with a masterpiece achieved by the master artist.

********

The Adolescent In The Modern World

REV. PETER BIRCH, M.A., PH.D

INDEX

THE MOST talked-of member of the community at present is the adolescent. Social workers find his attitude disappointing, and say so loudly and repeatedly.

Psychologists call on abstruse terms to explain him. Educationalists plan to protect and improve him. Adolescents are encouraged to be vocal in their own defence and to excuse their defects, while their parents are left under the impression that they are responsible for every fault found in the young people’s conduct. What is to be thought of all this? What, in fact, is the adolescent, and how does life at the present time affect his development and growth?

PART I

Generally speaking an adolescent is one who is in his teens. The period of adolescence may be taken for convenience to begin about 13 years of age and to have ended about 20. The characteristics which distinguish the adolescent however may sometimes begin earlier or may last longer. Much study has been devoted by psychologists and sociologists to this phase of a person’s life, and from these studies it is established that the term adolescence may denote a mental attitude as well as an age group. While it must be kept in mind that each individual is unique, and is exactly like no other, there are nevertheless certain characteristics which are generally true of all, and most adolescents may be expected to display them. A knowledge of these features will help towards the better understanding of the individuals who belong to this important section of the community, on whom the future of society so largely depends.

ADOLESCENCE IN A PERIOD OF CHANGE

What distinguishes the adolescent is not so much his age as the fact that he is a person who is in a stage of transition. He is passing from childhood to adulthood, and during the transition period is not firmly fixed in either category. The peculiar difficulties as well as the strength of the adolescent all spring from this and from his consciousness of it. As a child he depended naturally on adults, and accepted their direction willingly. Now he is conscious of separate standards of judgment, which are his own. These he wants to apply, but he is still vaguely unsure of them. He feels that these independent standards of judgment should be sufficient, but he lacks experience in their use; so he tends to be hasty, even ruthless at times, and he cannot see the need for the diplomacy and tact or the careful timing and finesse which adults have learned to be necessary for the most economic use of the means available to them. Thus he is insecure in his mind and impatient ; he feels that his seniors have grown dull and unperceptive, and do not understand the world as well as he does. If his elders counsel restraint and patience, or discourage his enthusiasm or his hurry, he may look on this as an attempt to justify their own inertia; if they criticise his methods, he is apt to think that they are jealous of his acuteness. He sees that his elders have grown accustomed to living with problems which because he has just met them, seem to him to demand urgent solution. Thus he is impatient to get to grips with the faults he finds so abundantly in life. He feels he has a solution which he will not be allowed to apply. Sometimes indeed, that is unfortunately true, and knowledge of this increases the difficulty.

PHYSICAL GROWTH

Physically the adolescent is conscious of new abilities. In the early stages, when bodily development is rapid, the young person is likely to shoot up and out unevenly at too fast a rate for proper control over muscular activity, with the result that he is awkward and ungainly for a time. This tends to make both boys and girls self-conscious and shy. A secondary result of the rapid physical growth of the period is the tendency to “ grow out of clothes and this often causes inordinate difficulty. It may appear unimportant to an adult but to the peculiar temperament of the adolescent it can be the source of great unhappiness. Skin blemishes are common at this time, and may produce the same effect. The development of the secondary sex-characteristics frequently serves to produce a similar result of self-consciousness. All these factors combine to cause feelings of embarrassment in company which is resented. This occurs, moreover, at a time when the desire to be thought much of, to be self-assured and self-possessed is vital, and it frequently gives rise to a reaction towards anti-social conduct, to a rebellious mood which is quite out of character with the docile boy or girl of a few years before. This behaviour can be disconcerting to those parents and elders who do not understand what is happening. In passing we may remark that advertisers and salesmen often play on the adolescent’s fears and weakness in this matter of physical defects and social inexperience to further their sales of aids, books “cures” or cosmetics. In doing so they take a very unfair advantage of young people by increasing their consciousness of these defects and do them great disservice.

EMOTIONAL GROWTH

During this period the sex powers develop to maturity, and with them the emotional changes which accompany their growth. The adolescent discovers new desires and longings in himself and greater emotional capacities, the effects of which are frequently not understood. The company of the other sex becomes desirable, unlike the previous period in life, when a natural segregation separated the sexes, and the attitude of one sex to the other was one of contempt or bare toleration. This important change of attitude takes place at a time when the individual feels hampered by that self-consciousness and lack of confidence to which I have just referred. Easy social intercourse appears very desirable but even more difficult for him to attain. At the same time a curiosity which is natural urges him to explore the newly discovered emotional possibilities, and he becomes aware of incipient inner conflict. This conflict derives from inability to distinguish clearly between what is a natural attraction and what is undue acceptance of it, between restraining religious and social demands on the one hand, and his own unaccustomed desires and inclinations on the other. While it is true that this factor certainly causes great difficulty for many adolescents, it would be wrong to reduce all their tensions and difficulties to the one difficulty of awakening sex interest. Very many psychologists reject this as an unwarranted oversimplification of a complex period, though it is one that is almost universally accepted by popular writers. Psychologists do point out however that it is a factor which the social organization of the time tends to exaggerate and therefore accentuate. As modern society is organized, the hope of early marriage is a forlorn one for many, and yet propaganda is allowed to concentrate on the desirability of successful sex attraction for all young people thus causing difficulties which could be avoided.

EMOTIONALLY UNSTABLE

Another striking characteristic of adolescence which accompanies this emotional growth and arises in part from it, is emotional instability. This instability is distressingly manifested in periods of enthusiasm and intense activity which are followed for no obvious reason by periods of inertia, listlessness or apparent laziness. The rapid growth of the individual helps to account for it. Moodiness which swings from absorbing enthusiasm to indifference is quite common, so that the reception which a boy or a girl will give at a particular time to a proposal cannot be anticipated with any degree of certainty; the young person’s interests or wants appear to vacillate with baffling suddenness, thus causing pardonable exasperation to his parents and others who are trying as earnestly as they can, to satisfy his demands, but cannot decide what he requires. Youth apparently wants so much here below, and does not want it long

Now, failure on the part of the adolescent to make the proper adaptation to these physical and emotional changes results in an intensification of his feeling of insecurity, and consciousness of this, in turn, is the cause of a frustrating spiral of adolescent shyness. It is also responsible for his very definite and characteristic unwillingness to undertake new tasks or new works, unless he has been given confidence in his abilities by proper training beforehand, or is assured of an audience that is known to be sympathetic for he fears failing under the eyes of others. This fear he will naturally try to hide. He will also hide, if he can, the fact that his unwillingness comes from this fear, and the means chosen to hide it normally is by assuming a mask of indifference. Adolescents want to try, but because they must make their efforts where they will be observed and are afraid they will fail, and feel miserable for failing in public, they pretend they are not interested.

REACTION AGAINST INSECURITY

This pretence may deceive others, but it cannot deceive the adolescent himself. So, in order to counteract his shyness and feeling of insufficiency, and to bolster up his self-esteem, the adolescent may indulge in a form of bravado which is made so obvious as to be a challenge, but is fundamentally the same insecurity displayed under another guise. It may take the form of aggressiveness which looks like churlish bad manners, but in actual fact is nothing more than a tortured and pitiable attempt on the part of the young person to convince himself, and others, that he can get through life unaided, while he knows in his heart that he cannot. This aggressive antisocial behaviour will multiply when adolescents form into groups, as they tend to do. Then they will emulate one another in declaring their independence and asserting their indifference to the views and opinions and even the rights of others. It may sometimes, indeed, go further than mere declarations, but even if it does not, it will still result in swagger and boasting and noisy ostentation, exhibited at times in bizarre conduct and dress, or in a flouting of convention which often leads the members of the group into regrettable actions and habits. This is particularly true where the groups are mixed ones, made up of boys and girls, for then one sex generally tries to impress the other in this way.

ADOLESCENT IDEALISM

So far I have been dealing with the more prominent characteristics of the adolescent. They are prominent because they are negative. But working against all these negative features is a positive one, which is much more important. In spite of all that is said of him the most valuable attribute of the adolescent is his idealism, which can lead him to the heights of successful endeavour. This idealism he will hide at first, for he fears cynicism from others and the danger of failing to live up to his own ideals, and he will reveal it only when he is sure that he has found a sympathetic friend. For this reason its existence is often unnoticed, doubted, or denied. But all young people need ideals to aim at, and if they are not given them they will find them where they can. In the early part of the period these ideals may be short-sighted and crude; they may be confined to success at games and so on, but they expand and develop with maturity. The fact that older people may look on their ideals as foolish or hopeless does not worry them. They distrust, as we have already seen, the conservatism of their elders. Neither does the fact that the pursuit of these ideals is liable or likely to endanger their safety or comfort bear much weight with them; safety for themselves or others is not a motive to put before the adolescent. They dream of sacrifice and high service, and do not readily analyse it further, but by nature they want to be asked to give, and when asked will give generously. In spite of this idealism they demand a realist approach to immediate problems; their impatience wants to see some ready results from their actions, while the contribution which these results will make to the total or final end they will leave to others to work out. In forming these ideals, adolescents are much affected by hero-worship, by following the example of men and women whom they admire. Their heroes may change as they grow up, but it is vital that they be given a chance to learn of worthy ones at every stage, for they will follow easily where they cannot at all be driven.

NEED OF SYMPATHY

Because, then, of the many-sided conflict in his mind, what the adolescent needs most is sympathy. Now sympathy here does not mean sorrow or pity, because in fact the adolescent dreads pity which is to him a sign of his weakness while he wants people to be interested in him. Neither does it mean that the adolescent should be given licence to act without restraint, or should be set free of all discipline which is an unworthy claim often made in his behalf, notably by psychologists with Freudian tendencies. On the contrary the adolescent will accept even rigorous discipline gladly and respect it, if it is properly put before him as something to achieve. Sympathy in this context does not mean, then, either of these. It means that adults who come into close contact with the adolescent must realise that this young person is no longer a child, and that he has now special needs of which the greatest is probably someone in whom he can confide, with whom he can discuss his troubles, and to whom he can reveal his partly formed ambitions. This means someone whom he can trust absolutely, and who will appreciate his code of conduct or honour, or at least accept it as a discussing point. It does not mean that an older person must pretend to shed his years and act as though he were not of mature mind; such conduct is too obviously insincere, and only repels the young. It must be remembered too that, because of the emotional instability of the adolescent, this confidant must be always on hand, to listen and give encouragement, for the confiding mood may pass quite quickly, and a similar opportunity may not be given again.

It is often true that young people do not find their parents or near relatives the easiest to confide in, perhaps because they fear that the parent or relatives know much about them, or because they feel ashamed of some of the confidences which they wish to make. It may often be, too, that a young person may not be sufficiently sure of what he wants to confide; he may even lack the vocabulary in which to express himself to intimate friends, or he may feel that his confidences or the terms which he must use to express them will shock his parents or relatives. In these cases parents would be unwise in trying to force themselves on their children. Unfortunately the young sometimes prefer to confide in total strangers who seem to be sympathetic to their views, and their inexperience can lead them to choose unsuitable confidants. There is danger in this for both sexes. The danger, of course, is more obvious in the case of girls, who are sometimes led in this way through innocence and inexperience into situations which bear all the external marks of complete indifference to their parents and even of personal badness. Allowance must be made for this tendency, however, and precautions taken against it. It is increased by all those who wish to win over the young by pandering to their whims, and preach a false doctrine to them of the importance of being emancipated from home ties.

PART II

The characteristics which have been under discussion so far are features of the adolescent everywhere; they are independent of changing conditions of time and place. Certain factors in the present world, however, create a special problem by aggravating the natural difficulties inherent in adolescence, and by seeming to change their nature so that they look like completely new difficulties. These must get special consideration. Sometimes they are consciously used to achieve results by interested parties. Some of these factors may have existed in older days, but the strong sense of family discipline and attachment, which was normal then, helped to counteract their evil effects. At times this discipline may have caused other problems, and been responsible for suffering, but it was certainly not an unmixed evil, and the suffering it caused, is, I think, often exaggerated in the telling of it.

THE ADOLESCENT AND MATERIALISM

The conditions in the present world to which I refer are the result of certain social developments which profoundly affect contemporary youth. First among these is the rank materialism of the time, the inclination, I mean, to evaluate everything by what it will be worth to its possessor in money or pleasure. There is an increasing tendency to look on the acquisition of riches as all that matters for an individual or a nation, and to discount even the noblest in life if it does not contribute to its owner’s spending power. The question “What is it worth?” is heard too often. This definitely causes doubt and distress in the mind of the adolescent, who is repelled by it, and rightly sees it as an unworthy approach. Side by side with this development, and closely allied to it in origin, is the rejection of clear fixed standards of judgement between good and bad, and the acceptance instead of a variable criterion by which it is decided that a thing is good or bad according as it helps a person to get on in life or not. The old, definite unchanging standards of morality are being made light of or rejected. In such a world the young find it difficult to judge what is right or even to be convinced that there is a distinction between right and wrong. Religion too is being put aside, and the rights of its spokesmen are questioned, while the end of man is being sought in passing pleasure.

It is really a strange poetic justice that while all this is supposed to be for his emancipation, it makes the adolescent feel more and more that he is being cheated. He is being deprived of an object for that idealism which he craves. He is being deprived of solid grounds for judging what is right for him to do such as a dogmatically-based religion gives. And so we find that even in countries where church going has long ceased to be popular, the young are now returning to it. Extreme philosophies, too, find fanatical adherents among soul-starved adolescents, as they seek for some creed which will give meaning to their lives: witness their adherence to communism. Causes which from the start are obviously hopeless are taken up by them, and sometimes even, it would seem, for the very reason that they are hopeless, in a sort of mystic self-immolation for the selfishness of society. That this is no mere rhetorical phrase anyone who reads the signs of the day, even here in Ireland, will see. And if we for our part appear by word or deed to distort religion into some selfish thing to achieve our own salvation merely, oblivious of the salvation of others, or if we use it to buttress and preserve a status quo which we have found profitable or comfortable, and if we neglect to demand sacrifice and even the Cross from ourselves and our youth for our religion and our ideals, we must not be surprised if we find them chasing such willo”-the-wisps.

THE ADOLESCENT AND SOCIALISM

Next I put the welfare state, or rather the idea of socialism from which it springs, as unfair to the present-day adolescent, although at first sight it would seem particularly advantageous to him. First of all, it is based on comfort and security, which do not in any way appeal to the adventurous and idealistic temper of the adolescent. Put simply it means that the person is to be regarded as no more than a part of the crowd, and so it should be accepted as the duty of the crowd, through its instrument the state, to provide for his material needs in every way.

As far as the adolescent is concerned, it will be clear that such gratuitous provision for him confirms him in his natural reluctance to undertake new works. There is little need to do so now. From the same source comes lack of respect for personal responsibility and for foresight and self-sacrifice. Work does not get the respect it formerly got, and saving or economy is not encouraged. Thus the older notions of pride and independence are discouraged. Training for a situation or profession affords little joy: education is said to be a waste of time-unless some higher or more personal motive is put before him.

If things like houses, luxuries, and the varieties of foods available are accepted as a measure of progress, and they must be, the standard of living has risen enormously in a generation. All this is taken by the younger generation as an essential part of life, something to which they have a right, without which life would be unthinkable. The moralising of the older generation on the hardships it endured and overcame to reach this desirable state, as compared with the selfgratification of their children does not impress modern youth. The fact that hardships were endured in the past is looked upon by the adolescent as proving nothing more than the ineffectiveness of the people who endured them for so long. He forgets that, it was by sacrifice that the older generation procured many of the benefits which the young now enjoy, and they have therefore a right to expect gratitude for them. Extreme socialism, however, does not recognise gratitude for the past as one of the virtues; it looks to the future and claims to act as if that can be built independently of the past. So the young are taught not to look on these benefits as something to be grateful for ; they are given to understand that they were simply something to which their parents had a right, and showed weakness by not taking long before they did. Thus there is conflict on the outlook for the future, and difference about the obligations of gratitude for the past which increases the difficulties of the young. Youth, with its logic and honesty draws unwelcome conclusions from the attitude of easy complacency adopted by the older generation. The latter may well find this irritating and embarrassing. It may sometimes suspect uneasily however, that youth may after all be right in objecting that progress has not reached its culmination in the material comforts and benefits of which their elders are so proud.

SIGNS OF LACK OF SATISFACTION

(a) Entertainment. It can be objected that since this idea of the paternal state has not been put into operation in countries such as Ireland, our adolescents cannot be said to be greatly affected by it. This, of course, is true to some extent, but, in so far as it is true, it only makes the problem more difficult. Because of the indoctrination of the present-day adolescent, even in Ireland, by repeated powerful propaganda for what are known as post-war ways of thought, supplemented by the advertising of sales-promoting concerns, who hope to profit from it, our youths have become accustomed to accepting almost without thinking the notion of a society where families are small, benefits are plenty, and selfish recreation which is to be obtained by lavish spending is normal. Elsewhere in Europe this recreation takes the form of noisy attendance at mammoth professional games-spectacles, cinema, dancing to music provided by professional orchestras, and indulgence in alcohol. In all these forms of entertainment passivity and gregariousness are obvious features, and a lack of personal participation and a shedding of personal responsibility are common characteristics. The use of fast cars has become an essential to recreation, and indicates basic restlessness and tension, Moreover, recreation is thought of as something which must be separate from one’s means of livelihood.

(b) work. All through Europe at present there is a clear tendency to profess dissatisfaction with one’s work, and hatred for the place in which one works, factors which can easily be made use of by agitators in order to further their subversive plans it is not difficult to expand this hatred into hatred for the whole employer system and for those who uphold it. It is thought contemptible to find satisfaction or enjoyment in work, apart from the spending money earned at it, and everywhere there is a tendency to seek illusory emancipation by changing situations without apparent reason or by emigration from the locality or even from the country. In all this it seems as if the individual is as the mercy of his environment. He cannot take the initiative and act for himself, but must allow himself to be carried along by those around him. There are clear signs too that we here in Ireland are being affected by all these things. We are obviously not protected from them by our island position and so we cannot ignore them as if we were to remain immune from harm by them.

But distressing though these changes be in themselves, it is more disturbing to remember that they are really indications of something deeper. The attitude of the modern adolescent to work and play points unmistakably to a lack of personal fulfilment which amounts to a disease. Lack of personal initiative, and submission to environmental influences is a form of determinism which must, if it is logical, deny free will and human liberty. The different items mentioned are no more than separate symptoms, I believe, which leave no doubt about the existence of serious social disease, and if there is to be a cure it must go far deeper than the symptoms, and work on the more fundamental malaise both in the community and in the individual. And the disease is likely to be even more grievous in a community like ours, which is founded on ideas that differ from those out of which such attitudes to life naturally grow. By this I mean that we do not profess materialism, but we act too often as if we did ; the opposition is therefore all the greater, causing greater friction and greater worry, and so is likely to cause a deeper and greater sore in the body politic.

REACTION AGAINST ANONYMITY

That the adolescent is conscious of the tendency of present-day society, to merge him as an anonymous element in the crowd, and to expect or desire little if any personal activity from him, is made plain from the violence with which he reacts against it at times. This reaction is illustrated by the modern exaggeration of his natural leaning towards ostentatious clothes or conduct. It finds expression first of all in a slavish readiness to follow the newest fashions in dress and taste and behaviour, for the sole reason that they are new, and at the same time to adopt consciously aggressive elaborations of these fashions just because they are completely at variance with accepted conventions. The fashion crazes of the moment are a striding example of this.

THE GANG MEMBER

The gang member, bizarre in dress and violent in conduct, cowardly as an individual and depending for moral and physical support on his gang, consciously seeking unconventionality and yet pathetically similar to others of his type in almost every way, is to be seen shuffling through the working classes all over Europe at present. It would be a very grave mistake to dismiss him lightly as just a freak development which will pass and be forgotten, to suggest that he is a product of the films and so on. He is much more than this and demands careful examination both in himself and in what he stands for. He will not be confined for long to the working classes merely, but will find his counterpart-with perhaps slight changes in externals-in the other classes, if he has not already done so. Unfortunately he appears to be a very real symptom of social disease resulting from soul starvation. Even though he is not fully aware of it, the unworthy contradictory attempts at herding and excessive individualism which he displays, clearly betray his resentment against want of opportunity to develop a satisfying personality, which would serve as a safety valve for his gathering energy, and at the same time would provide the society to which he belongs with much power for good. He does what he does because no one shows him that he is wanted to do better; no one hires him to till his own corner of the vineyard. His want is certainly the fault of society, and the faults of society we must not forget are brought about by the individuals who compose it, rather than by the leaders who claim to direct it. The flaunting excesses we see so often in modern youth are caused, even if they are not excused, by the lack of scope in worth-while tasks provided for him, by the want of proper ideals and the means to achieve them. Every adolescent knows that the prayer “give us this day our daily bread” should not be a mere request that is limited to a job in a factory, however well paid, for the soul and the mind need sustenance as much as the body. His excesses may be caused too, by his realization that the limited world we are so proudly preparing to hand on to him is not the perfect place we sometimes so complacently say it is.

CYNICISM TOWARDS SERVICE

Allied to this mood of rebelliousness, and deriving from the same source, is the attitude of apparent cynicism towards social and democratic obligations which is also to be observed in the modern adolescent all through Europe, particularly towards the later stages of his development. Impatience with their elders has always been a characteristic of youth. Indifference and lack of responsibility can be expected at all times from the young, but a more sinister element appears to have entered now. On the surface this attitude looks like a form of arrogance which is unreasonable and objectionable but a closer examination will reveal that it also contains much disappointment. It shows itself in positive refusal to participate in civic responsibility, and an attempt to justify this by dismissing all who do take part in it as unworthy and dishonest in their intentions, or at least as not being completely altruistic in their motives. Anyone who takes part in communal activities, such as local government or leadership, does so, they allege, for reasons of personal advancement alone. They allow of no exceptions, for “They are all the same!” they cry. The young declare loftily that they are superior to this self-seeking, and want nothing to do with it. They stand glumly aloof, and as a result, we find statesmen everywhere regretting the fewness of young men or women who are prepared to step forward to take a practical interest in democratic affairs, and lamenting that the younger generation appear to have lost respect for the democratic ideal. This cynicism is so contrary to the unselfish optimism, idealism, and sense of service which is normal to adolescents, that it cannot be genuine. Their spirited discussion amongst themselves, and their readiness to speak and write of international affairs, and to examine the solutions arrived at in other countries, reveal their real longings, and show that nonparticipation at home is mostly a pose on their part.

This pose of the adolescent is adopted for several reasons. It is a defence mechanism against his natural lack of sureness and self-reliance, which needs more tactful handling than it gets. It is a face-saving attempt to salve his injured pride, and his disappointment at not being given the scope he really longs for, at not perhaps receiving the sympathetic welcome he expects, when he does venture into tentative participation. It is very similar to the aggressiveness or ostentatious churlishness sometimes shown in his private life. Unfortunately the attitude of adults may be ultimately responsible for this assumed indifference or cynicism, though not being psychologists the failure of the old to recognise the eagerness concealed behind the attitude of the young is understandable. And by continually repeating that his non-cooperation is founded upon reason, the adolescent succeeds in convincing himself and making his attitude permanent, as well as making it a matter of prestige to maintain it. The regrettable tendency among modern writers and historians to uncover and magnify the hidden faults and human weaknesses of historical figures in whom the young have been taught to believe, appears to give scientific support to their attitude of cynicism. The unseemly recriminations of politicians who do not hesitate to impute the lowest motives to their opponents, add to the trouble. Confirmation for his cynicism is also provided by reading of the selfish, base, unworthy motives which modern writing so often attributes to the sexes and their relations with one another. Young people are disappointed and hurt when they see their ideals shattered. They cannot be blamed if they take excessive precautions lest it happen again. If selfishness is paraded before the eyes of youth as a mark of all who are in high places it is not to be wondered at that they see it and deliberately keep away.

FANTASY INSTEAD OF SERVICE

Naturally young people must find outlets somewhere for their energy ; their desire for activity must find a chance to express itself. We have seen one way in which this is provided for, namely, resentful excessive activity. An easier way and one that meets less opposition is by entering a dream world. This has always been a means of escape, but the gates have been thrown open to the adolescent in the modern world by means of the cinema. Day-dreaming or fantasy is a natural sedative for the young. The film producers are aware of this and like the publishers of adolescent magazines, they provide it in abundance. They have learned what these young people want. They give it to them to such an extent that it develops its own need, which, like the need for narcotics soon ceases to be natural.

CINEMA

It is true that a little day-dreaming is normally good for the adolescent. Through it a vicarious form of exciting acttivity by identification with a hero or heroine is made possible, and the young person is afforded a useful safety valve thereby, provided that the character temporarily assumed is not an immoral one. There is no doubt, however, that when it assumes the proportions which it may under the influence of the particularly glamourized and luscious form of cinema to which the modern adolescent has become accustomed, daydreaming or fantasy can be harmful, apart from all considerations of morality in the strict sense. Such a form of cinema hinders the growth of a vigorous personality which is prepared to find its satisfaction by wrestling successfully with everyday normal problems. When it accustoms the adolescent to evade his responsibilities by having recourse to frequent fantasy of this kind, it develops a flabby, fibreless character which will have no practice in resisting the environment in which he will live, and thus will allow himself to be formed and moulded unduly by circumstances. So it contributes largely to the formation of a determinist attitude to life. In this regard, apart altogether from strictly religious considerations, cinema which is accepted in a languorous frame of mind can be looked upon as anti-social, just as the more sensuous and commercialised types of dancing or indulgence in alcohol by the young can be. They all weaken the tough fibre which is part of character. It is unfortunate for the modern world that the totalitarian dictators realized this danger quite early. They took pains to avert it by providing their adolescents with more virile and psychologically more congenial outlets for their energy, even though many of these were morally and socially reprehensible, and even though the personality they wished to develop went to extremes of hardness and insensitivity. But by their action, and by reaping such rich harvests from it for the totalitarianism they supported they gave the impression that it must be antidemocratic, and therefore wrong, to oppose these forms of fibre-sapping recreation.

THE ADOLESCENT A REAL PERSON

At this point it is well to remind ourselves that there is really no such thing as the average adolescent. By that I mean that there is really no person who runs completely true to type. A person is a composite of body and soul and souls cannot be typed. Consequently every present-day adolescent must be studied as an individual and one living in the actual world of today. This means first of all, that he must be studied with that general sympathy and understanding of which I have already spoken. He must be seen in a personal manner and with full consciousness of the problems to be faced by him. Many of these problems were unknown in the past and so the older generation must make a special effort to appreciate them properly. As well as that, it must be accepted that the adolescent of the present has immense capacities for good, and in this regard is no way inferior to any who preceded him. But a knowledge of the traits which characterise adolescence in general is a help to understanding the individual, if only to assure bewildered parents that this strangely developing unco-operative young person, who was lately a pleasant docile child, is not some unworthy changeling thrust on them. So inconsistent and inexplicable does his conduct seem, that such a thought must come to them at times!

It is also well to remind ourselves that the normal person’s impressions are still soundly based in spite of all that is written on the problems, frustrations and unhappiness of adolescence. The individual adolescent may therefore be expected to be a reasonably happy, optimistic, and satisfied person, and such problems as cause him worry arise from many-sided complex sources and are not, as is sometimes suggested, always or solely the result of parental failure.

HELP FOR THE ADOLESCENT IDEALS

Now how are the psychological needs of the adolescent, and the peculiar difficulties that spring from modern life, to be met ? Obviously they must be made use of where possible as difficulties become valuable assets when they provoke corresponding effort. Apart from his need of sympathy the greatest single need of the adolescent, is probably the provision of worthy ideals. These must be made readily available to him. We have them all around us, if we look for them in life, in history, and in religion above all. It is our duty to know these, and to bring them to the notice of the adolescent. But continuous nagging and preaching at him is of no use. Neither is repeated contrasting of his failures with the achievements of older people a help. The recommendation of worth while books, for example, may help, or drawing attention to significant news items, if it is skilfully done, but serious interested discussion on adult topics will play a bigger part.

Then, too, it is essential to provide an atmosphere where young ideals can be not merely brought to light, but gloried in and openly discussed. It is pitiable to see an adolescent driven back into that frustrating shyness and self-consciousness so easy for him, by being treated as immature just because he speaks of ideals, and so he must be able to find encouragement for his aims and his attempts, even though a tactful and sympathetic redirection of them will occasionally be necessary. The young person must feel that there is someone who thinks that his viewpoint is worth considering.

TRUST

Next comes an attitude of practical trust towards adolescents. If we are to meet their needs, we must show them that we not merely admire their high motives, but that we believe they are capable of carrying out certain tasks, and consequently we must be ready to entrust these tasks gladly to them. At home, at school, in church, working with us in a common enterprise, the young must be accepted as junior partners, who will one day take over from us completely. They must, therefore, be entrusted with a fair share of the work, and, as far as possible, be allowed to do it in their own way, and shown that they are expected as a matter of course to do it well. I think too that greater generosity is needed on our part in the beginning so that if our adolescents make mistakes, we will take a major share of the blame; and if they do well in partnership with us we will give them all the praise. The modern world tends to make them ciphers which attain a significance only when a leader has been placed arbitrarily before them by some invisible moving hand. We must make them persons, each one of whom is valuable in himself, and infinitely valuable when he unites himself voluntarily, as he may, to God, and through God with his brothers. The experience of all groups working for and through youth stresses the importance of this. Witness the success of the YCW movement or the Legion of Mary. Apart from the help of God’s grace, their obvious success with youth is to be found in showing young people their real value as persons. On a lower plane various other bodies recognise this and make use of it, too. By the terms they employ and the actions and excitement they promise, they enable young men and women to identify themselves with heroes who have shown themselves real persons in the recent past, and thus they raise these young persons” self-esteem, and win ready, grateful allegiance from them. The underground and resistance armies fighting against aggression are studied and copied in many lands for method and approach, by leaders who know what adolescents want. The heroes of occupied Europe or the child-fighters of Hungary are held up as examples in conditions which bear little resemblance to the places where these carried out their exploits. Irish people must be aware of this at present.

EDUCATION TO SUIT MODERN NEEDS

We have considered that one of the major factors in the mental attitude of the adolescent at the present day is a feeling of personal inadequacy. This must be remedied, and to remedy it is the task of education. Both in content and in method education must be related to actual modern conditions. A realignment is generally sufficient in this regard. The example of the lovely 3R”s will illustrate what is meant by this. These must be taught in elementary schools, now as always. But the growing use of the spoken word in preference to the written word as a means of communication with others, through radio, telephone and recording apparatus, requires that at least as much consideration must now be given to clear speech as was formerly given to clear writing, while the social acceptance of the typewriter makes the old copperplate handwriting less necessary. This is a real change which we scarcely notice. Similar changes are demanded at every level. We in Ireland must examine our system to see what changes are required by our separation from an industrial empire, of which we were a part when our educational system was originally devised. Even while we concentrate on the literary type of education which we feel we need, we may be wrong in excluding all training in crafts.

Perhaps our young people would benefit from early introduction to handicrafts, and feel better prepared to live in the present day world.

This does not mean that we must reject all that is old in education, and confine our attention to the strictly functional or utilitarian for that would defeat even its own purpose. The adolescent will always need the deliberate contemplation of greatness, which is to be found in a broad cultural and religious training, that will explain and elevate his life. He must also be encouraged to solve his own problems of work and leisure, and to do so not in a self-centred manner, but against the background of national and world problems. He must be taught to consider the obligations of others, if he in his turn is to make a full, even though unconscious, contribution to solving wider problems through his little efforts. The obvious interest of the present day adolescent in international affairs should make this a simple task.

LOOKING TO THE FUTURE WITH CONFIDENCE

This education must always be forward-looking while making all due allowance for indebtedness to the past. Here in Ireland at present it is probably true that we are not giving our young people sufficient inspiring confidence in their ability to direct the future, and so they tend to relive the past for its glories ; they try to recapture the past which is foolish because impossible. In stressing the difficulties ahead of the nation, I fear that we do not always present these properly in the form of the challenge which our young people need to spark off their idealism, ingenuity and industry, and their spirit of self-sacrifice. Effort is only evoked by seeing a problem and knowing at the same time that it can be solved. Far too often in our appeals for effort we unintentionally speak as if the position. here were hopeless, and so our young people tend to adopt desperate remedies, or go in search of places where opportunities are offered which are more encouraging. Or we give the impression that since we have not abundant material resources, we are rich in nothing. We are not worthy of our youth if we do not help them overcome their natural reluctance to act with reason under observation, or if we discourage their already damped enthusiasm by a complacent “I told you so” attitude, when their schemes are only partially successful.

Living for a Christian Ireland which these young people themselves can form, must be given the same glamour at the present day as dying for it received when that was necessary. This is possible, if we give them a sense of national responsibility, and show them how to prepare themselves to contribute their share in industriousness and acquired skill. We must also initiate for them that contagious thrill of excitement, that feeling of preparation for big things to be accomplished by their united efforts, the assurance that it is a good time for a young person to be alive, which one senses in certain inspiring educational environments. One is aware of that feeling wherever a nation is drawn together to wrestle with difficulties, and is proud of the struggle it is making, glad even at the very thought of the difficulties before it, because they call for effort, and incidentally prove the worth of the fighter. You can feel it quite palpably in many periods of Irish history. One such period was when Newman was planning his dream university and leading the people to set it up on the ruins of the famine. One senses it today in countries that are gaining the unwilling inch against the legacy of hardships left them by the disasters of the war. In quite different surroundings the same exhilarating atmosphere is felt, where boys and girls are preparing themselves to go out on the mission fields, conscious of the difficulties ahead, but confident nevertheless. One meets it again in the attitude of quiet determination and trust in one another, which marks the struggles of families to overcome apparently insuperable obstacles. I fear that one does not get the same bracing air at present in our nation as a whole. Perhaps we are tired as a nation, after our centuries of struggle against political difficulties, and need some time to recover, before we are refreshed enough to resume the struggle against economic and cultural difficulties. The danger is that, as we wait, our adolescents, who are naturally prone to suspect such weariness, may grow despondent and impatient.

EDUCATION THAT IS OUR OWN

The modern adolescent needs to be given the best available educational facilities, facilities which are in keeping with present conditions and future needs. This does not of necessity mean more educational facilities. We must be careful about this. Quantity or variety is not the answer to our question. The mere provision of schooling will solve little. Neither will longer compulsory attendance at school, by itself, solve all our problems automatically. That is too easy, too much like passing a difficulty which is ours, over to someone else. The herding of unwilling adolescents into schools, and deluding ourselves that we have thereby done our part, could produce by-products just as harmful for many of them, as it has done in places in America, and is said to be doing to some extent in England at present. I do not wish to be taken now as opposed in principle to longer school attendance, or to the raising of the school-leaving age. There are many convincing arguments in its favour. I am merely protesting that this easy proposal cannot be a solution, if it absolves the normal person from the necessity of making his own effort, however small it be. Neither will we solve our problems by borrowing solutions that have been found effective in other countries. We can learn from these, and we should, but eventually we can only reach our goal by our own means of travel. It may well be that, when fully worked out, these will turn out to be like those found useful elsewhere, and to have similarities, perhaps to English, Scandinavian or Italian methods, but they will only serve our needs in so far as they are our own discoveries.

We must each of us play his part, and make his contribution of work, example and sacrifice, and if we do nothing else we shall give practical proof thereby that we are thinking helpful persons and not just ciphers. We can show that we are aware of, and ready to depend on, the natural goodness of our adolescents, who will thereby be encouraged to respond by giving their utmost in service and generosity.

CONCLUSION

Christ gave the government of his church to a senior man among his disciples, to St. Peter; he gave the care of his mother to the adolescent among them, to St. John. St. John showed many of the traits of the adolescent. He wanted to sit at the right hand of the Messiah ruling the world. He would have called down fire from heaven on those who slighted his Master. He went into the dangers of the trial room, and he stood loyally and defiantly in the midst of the grim angry mob at the foot of the Cross. He accepted the commission to look after Our Lady without embarrassment, and without thought that she perhaps was better equipped to look after him. We can be sure that as these two walked down from Calvary supporting each other, he mingled tears of disappointment and frustration with his anger, and tenderness for her with resolution to stay with her as long as she needed him. No one but a young man would have kept faith in the future then. In the same spirit of love and faith and trust our adolescents are a sure guarantee that hope of success in the future should not wane.

THE AUTHOR

Rev. Peter Birch: Born 1911. Educated at St. Kieran’s College, Kilkenny and St. Patrick’s College, Maynooth. Ordained 1937, M.A. (N.U.I.) 1941, Ph.D (N.U.I.) 1951. Teacher in the secondary school for boys at St. Kieran’s College, Kilkenny from 1938 to 1953. Professor of Education and Lecturer in Catechetics in St. Patrick’s College, Maynooth since 1953. Author of “ Saint Kieran’s College, “ a historical analysis of secondary and ecclesiastical education in Ireland from 1782. Regular contributor on educational subjects to Irish, English, and American magazines, and journals. His close association over, many years with the Adult Education Movement and various youth organisations in Kilkenny, gives him an added advantage in discussing the problems of the adolescent in the modern world.

Nihil Obstat:

Joseph P. Newth, C.C. Censor Theol. Deput. Imprimi Potest:

@ Ioannes Carolus,

Archiep. Dublinen. Hiberniae Primas.

15/12/1957

********

The Adventurous Nun

BY MICHAEL RICHARDSON

INDEX

Not many of us in our youth, have played cat and mouse with an unjust police force. Few of us have hidden priests who are hunted because of their unswerving fidelity to their Religion. Not many teen-agers have taught Christian Doctrine at a time when this was forbidden by law, but, to these charges, Anne-Marie could plead guilty. Who was Anne-Marie?

Blessed Anne-Marie, born on 10 November, 1779, at Jallanges, was the fifth of ten children. Her father, Balthasar, was a well-to-do farmer; her mother, Claudine, a very holy woman. As a teenager, vivacious Anne-Marie, or Nanette as she was called, loved dress and dancing and young men’s company. There was a touch of daredevil in her, which readily came to the surface, especially during the Revolution, when she frequently risked life and limb. She was devoted to St. Bernard and St. Martin. She arranged an oratory in her home and a small chapel dedicated to St. Anne in her garden. More important, she founded the Sisters of St. Joseph of Cluny, was beatified by the Church, and in the words of Pope Pius XI, was “the first woman missionary.”

VIGILANT NANETTE

Our story opens during the French Revolution in Chamblanc, where her family lived. Nanette used to teach Catechism because the nuns were either in exile or in hiding. On one occasion her father, disapproving of his daughter’s daring enterprise, sneaked up on the unsuspecting class to demonstrate how easily she might be caught, but his daughter had devised a method of vigilance. Suddenly she was teaching Arithmetic. Angry at being outwitted, he forbade her to carry on this practice in the barn. She never disobeyed the order. Instead, the orchard, the garden, the fields and the road became the classroom, and her prayers became more devout.

The fury of the Revolution grew, and Fr. Ballanche, a hunted priest, found refuge in the Javouhey home. Seventeen-year-old Nanette passed those spy-filled days accompanying her father, who talked business while she moved among the people, arranging rendezvous in old barns, where they might hear night-time sermons, confess their sins, and attend a dawn Mass. Since she was a great organizer, she used to send her brother, Etienne, and Jean Petitjean, the young man who hoped to marry her, on mysterious trips in the Javouhey cart. Under piles of potatoes and hay, Fr. Ballanche used to lie, while souls, hungry for spiritual guidance, awaited him in some lonely place. She taught the younger Javouhey children to spy, just as today the Communists train children to spy on their parents and friends. The difference was that the Javouhey children spied to preserve life, and if any faithful priests were in the area, Nanette was bound to know.

A DASH OF DANGER

One night, the scream of “Open the door in the name of the Republic!” horrified the Javou hey household. There was no time to bundle Fr. Ballanche into the attic. Nanette took the initiative: “Into the cupboard quickly.”

The fugitive slipped in, swinging the door behind him, but the latch did not catch. Meanwhile Nanette opened the front door, and four men entered, demanding the priest. Confidently, the deputy announced that he would have to arrest Balthasar, who, shocked at his sudden helplessness, heard his daughter chuckle at the whole idea. Her father could not produce a priest out of thin air. So she invited them to search the house- which was exactly what they intended.

As the search was beginning, the unlatched door creaked open. Of all people, it was the deputy who caught it, and he was about to peer into the cupboard, when Nanette suggested that her father ought to bring out the wine: “Later we can help them search for the priest.” One wonders what old Balthasar was thinking as his daughter asked him to share his wine with the men who had come to arrest him. He must have been paralysed at the sight of her taking the deputy’s coat and putting it in the cupboard. This time she shut the door firmly.

At long last, the deputy was satisfied by the Javouhey’s behaviour. They were too calm to be hiding a priest. A search would be useless. So, toend the momentous occasion, brother Pierre returned the deputy’s coat, but left the cupboard door wide open. We are told that the deputy stared at the cupboard. So did the Javouheys. He left with his escort and without his prisoner.

Today, priests are still being hunted. There are more than one thousand million people crushed, captured behind the Iron and Bamboo Curtains. Pray for them and the Church of Silence; for those in concentration camps and prisons; for the unknown nuns, brothers and priests who labour to the end. It is we who are the silent church.

SPOUSE OF CHRIST

One day, shortly after the priesthunt, the daring girl revealed her true colours. “Father, I want to be a nun,” she admitted to Fr. Ballanche. The priest encouraged her, but wondered what the future held for a nun at a time when all the convents were closed. Her father, of course, had other plans for his Nanette and told her so. That any girl should become a nun was one question but that this girl should be his daughter was quite another. Yet, to his rebuff Nanette had an answer. She began a barrage of letters to her father. “My dear father, not all your refusals discourage me. I think you would tear my heart out, to make me stop wanting to lead the religious life,” and again “I have promised God to devote myself altogether to the service of the sick and the education of little girls.”

So finally, very early in the morning of 11th November, 1798, a small group of people gathered secretly in an upstairs room. They knew that the girl, dressed as a bride, had just completed a private retreat, and now they witnessed her taking of vows. Her three sisters envied her, promising that they too, would be as “happy as you are now.”

THE TEST

Nanette was happy, but the events of the next few years were unexciting to relate and cruel to bear. In 1799, Napoleon Bonaparte directed a coup d‘etat, and the religious crept out of exile. After another struggle with her father, Nanette entered the Convent of the Daughters of Charity, but there she went badly. Her mission to God was clear, but the kind of mission was not. She preferred to be apart from the other members; she lost her appetite. She could neither sleep, nor read. She lost weight, she was losing her vocation, but on she prayed.

One night while kneeling in distress at her bedside, she asked: “Lord, what wouldst Thou have me do? Make Thy will known to me.” She promised obedience to God, even if it meant having to live her whole life in the dark coal- hole, which was near her room and terrified her. A voice answered her pleading: “You will accomplish great things for me.” A few nights later, disturbed from sleep, she was horrified to see her room crowded with coloured children of races she did not know, and in the middle stood a nun in a strange habit. “These are the children God has given you. He wishes you to form a new Congregation to care for them. I am Teresa (of Avila). I will be your protectress,” spoke the strange nun.

This vision occurred in 1800. We twentieth century folk must see visions too. There were once 3,000 street urchins who roamed the alleyways, living on theft and vice. Mario Borelli had a vision. He became Don Mario who lived with them and won their hearts so as to win their souls. Visions are not always so clear as Anne-Marie reported: “I seemed to see-was it a dream? Was it just my imagination? I don’t know-a multitude of children; poor, sick, weeping, commending themselves to me and reaching out their arms to me. What especially struck me was a multitude of blacks, men, women and children, calling me “Dear Mother”, and they were so unhappy that they left for ever afterwards the most vivid impression on me.”

FAILURE

Next time Balthasar visited the convent, he found his 20 year old daughter dressed to return home. The villagers had been right after all. Balthasar thought that now his daughter would listen to him, but he was disappointed. Instead, she opened schools and orphanages, and although funds were always insufficient to supply enough food and furniture, Nanette managed to keep these places open, at least for a time. Of course, enduring poverty was far from pleasant for Nanette. At one school she had to sleep on the floor and the conditions were so bad, that horrified curates returned prospective pupils to their homes. And each project that she started failed, and each failure depressed her. The life to which God was calling her would brook no depression, so she entered the Trappistine Convent called “The Monastery of the Holy Will of God.” This title was to become the motto of her own Congregation, one day.

Already she had experience in the direct apostolate with the Daughters of Charity, and by the end of the Trappistine novitiate, she had the solid spiritual formation, necessary for her own peculiar vocation. So she left the Trappistines. The day of her own Congregation was at hand.

Strengthened by the Trappistine training, Nanette took on more and more work in schools and orphanages. Her sisters joined her and with financial help from their father, they began to succeed. Soon, other devoted women helped them and they became known as the Sisters of St. Joseph. So, on 12th May, 1807, nine young ladies, including Balthasar’s four daughters took vows. Nanette retained her baptismal names, Anne-Marie, while her sisters became Marie-Therese, MarieJoseph, and Rosalie. They chose their motto: “The holy will of God.” The Mother Foundress was 28 years old, and the world awaited her works.

I HAVE COME TO SERVE

Restoration of souls, and sometimes of buildings, became the job of Mother Superior as the Congregation grew. After renovating the disused diocesan seminary in Chalon, the nuns lived there for almost three years, when Spanish prisoners of war were sent there. The nuns cared for what became a prison-hospital, where all types of infectious diseases spread. Reverend Mother herself caught typhus but she recovered. Finally, there was no room for the nuns. They migrated to Rue des Rats and then later (1812) to the historically famous monastery at Cluny, where in 910, Berno founded the original Benedictine Abbey. This Convent at Cluny became the Mother House of the Sisters of St. Joseph until 1849. Hence their title “of Cluny” was complete. About this time, a minor eruption occurred when Anne- Marie’s nuns used the Lancastrian system of education, in which older pupils acted as monitors and taught groups of 10 what the teacher had taught them. Here was an excellent way to educate large numbers of poor children, for whom the number of books and teachers was inadequate. The system was criticized, however, because it was foreign (English) and was supposed to lead to indifferentism. Despite the adverse criticism of the nuns, the administrator of the Paris diocese; confident in the Congregation’s ability, had a Governmental school placed in their care. So successful was the system in the school that Anne-Marie and her Congregation received unexpected acclaim, and she became an authority overnight.

Anne-Marie also took on many diverse tasks. She opened up workshops and a small hostel for people of modest fortune, a home for war widows and a girls” orphanage. Even the foundation of a preparatory seminary is attributed to her.

SENEGAL

Meanwhile, the Congregation was spreading outwards. France looked to its colonies and the Congregation looked to the colonists. So Senegal (West Africa) a very primitive and unpleasant place, was the first mission to be chosen. Its two settlements, Goree Island and St. Louis were surrounded by silent bush, where unpredictable natives wandered. So poorly equipped was the hospital, that there were no blankets, beds, eating utensils or mosquito nets. No one even prepared meals. It was simply a place where wretched Africans went to die. In the end, Sister Rosalie had to abandon her plans for schools, and concentrate all her efforts on improving the hospital. Indeed, the Colony was in such a deplorable state, that AnneMarie could not resist the temptation. “The climate of Senegal is very unhealthy, I must go there myself.” she said.

Ship smells and sailors” shouts farewelled her at the port. She heard the harsh rasp of block and tackle and she saw men hurrying to their different tasks, before the ship set sail. Men barked orders. Men struggled under the weight of heavy stores. Men swung from ropes and climbed ladders, while the officers surveyed the whole scene. Sailors talked, argued and swore as passengers streamed aboard. AnneMarie’s blue habit was part of that colourful chaos, in which nameless people pushed and shoved their way to some unknown destiny. On board, she felt the ships floor beneath her feet rise and fall on the gentle swell. There was not long to go.

ANNE-MARIE SOUGHT SOULS

Then came the time which thrills sailors and landsmen alike, for who could not love the sight of billowing canvas, caught by a sea breeze, or the rolling of a ship as it lunges and slumps across ocean waves? That day, men and women, with their hearts set on the future, cut themselves off from the rest of the world. Some sought fame. Some sought fortune. Anne-Marie sought souls.

At Senegal, some months later, Anne-Marie was overjoyed at meeting her sister Rosalie again, and she admitted that she had often cried since her departure from France, but she had also laughed, though not so much. “I have taken a certain amount on myself; our good Master has added a little of his own-but things have settled down.”

Typical of Anne-Marie, she moved up the Senegal River through 50 miles of jungle to Dagana, a trading-centre, where few whites had been ,and founded a Mission Centre there. She had great hopes in native missionaries and yearned for a native clergy, but the poor example of the whites contradicted her holy life. After treating her for a tropical disease, one doctor wrote: “I have seen her at work; she is a saint. I am too old to see her in the calendar; but you will.”

At the request of the British Governor, she visited Gambia, a British Colony which was used mainly as a dumping ground for hundreds of slaves taken from Moorish vessels. Anne-Marie refused to proceed until their degrading situation was improved. Finally, she left one Sister at Gambia in charge of these improvements, while at the insistence of the British Governor, she moved on to Sierra Leone, together with a girl, Florence, whom Sister Rosalie had freed from slavery.

FREETOWN

Freetown was no haven, with only one doctor (who was often called away from the town) and a very filthy dilapidated hospital. Untrained as she was, Anne-Marie spent those days caring for wounds, setting broken bones and dispensing medicines. The nights went in weaving mats for beds and improvising rags for blankets. Corruption had spread its evil tentacles here too, since the British had first dumped 400 slaves from Moorish vessels and imported 30 prostitutes from London to increase the population. The mulatto elite took control, and slavery broke out, among those who had once been slaves. Work was despised. Theft became a way of life. Despite this, the Mother Superior could only say: “Oh, how can I thank God for having brought me here! I feel so happy in being able to do so much good, and soothe so much suffering. If I had only six Sisters with me, what an amount of good could be accomplished!” About the slaves she wrote: “If only I had enough money to buy them all and set them free. I will never rest until this slave traffic is ended and they have all gained their freedom.”

YELLOW FEVER

Three months slipped by, when a sudden wave of yellow fever swept through the Colony, changing the hospital into a morgue. The Governor conscripted workers to cart away the dead. The doctor arrived to help her, and despite the grave risk of contagion, she fought the battle against disease for two months, until it struck her down. Then, somehow, through the constant care of Florence, that native girl, and against the doctor’s predictions, the nun recovered. By then, the battle against yellow fever had ended.

One month later, still so weak from the fever that she had to be carried on board, she retracted her steps and found, to her horror, that she had left a trail of desolation in her path. The nun who had remained at Gambia was dead, while the Mother Superior of Gorge Island had proved incapable. One nun had rejected her vows and deserted; a second had died unattended. With the urgent message for more nuns and better training sent ahead of her, she returned after two years in Africa to more strife in France. The Congregation needed her steadying influence.

TH E NUNS’ MUTINY

Back in France, Anne-Marie found herself with a mutiny on her hands. The trouble had sprung up in the French Colony of Bourbon, where an unfortunate nun had taken upon herself the position of superior. Because sailing-ships took five months to reach the island, the nun had ample opportunity to convince nuns, priests and officials of her position as superior, before the newly appointed nun arrived. The usurper was so stoutly defended, that after a year’s fruitless waiting, the real superior returned to France. At last, fully aware of the situation at the Colony, Anne-Marie sent her own sister Rosalie to take control.

Sister Rosalie herself met with great opposition, including an attempt to disband the Congregation. Ironically, the usurper, who intercepted the mail addressed to Rosalie, as she had done with Rosalie’s predecessor, received the beautiful letter from AnneMarie: “Do not let yourself be taken in by sadness; you will be capable of nothing when you are downhearted. God will judge; we must work.”

But neither the opening of another’s mail, nor the influence of governor or priest could hold back the wrath of the mothercountry. After some time, Rosalie’s position was confirmed through both government and ecclesiastical channels. The storm clouds had blown over.

HOLY HURRY

Expansion was the theme of the day and the Cluny nuns spread from Africa, westwards over into the Carribean and South America, and to the East, heroic work was being done at Pondicherry, in India. Almost simultaneously, the Church approved of the Congregation’s new rules as the Congregation’s members swelled to 500 scattered throughout 18 houses in France and the Colonies.

In France, a new mission was taking shape- nursing the mentally sick. The asylum of St. Yon at Rouen, was to become the shelter of 1,350 patients, nursed by 170 Sisters. At Alencon, 80 lunatics, of whom 15 were extremely violent, together with 50 other misfits who were indiscriminately caged with the lunatics, moved Anne-Marie to action. Overcoming her repulsion at their screams, their nakedness and their unpredictable behaviour, she, with 17 nuns and her brother, pacified a jungle of savage human beings. The “Angels in blue” had won another victory.

About this time, despite her own depressing work, Anne-Marie wrote to her niece, Sister Clothilde, who was trying to patch up another’s failure: “Come, my dear; pluck up heart; shake off your enemy indolence which tells you fairy- tales; don’t listen to the pride which lurks beneath the (humble) violet; pride that is so afraid of failure, that people may laugh at it. Pay no attention to “What will people say?”

THE COLONIAL NUN

One of the French Colonies, Guiana was too hot, too wet, too rugged, too disease-ridden for anything else but a penal institute on Devil’s Island. It was occupied by officials, merchants, speculators, paroled or escaped convicts and the usual group of nonentities who drift towards places where the conscientious arm of justice only reaches with difficulty.

Colonizing had not been successful in this area. In 1823, the Government had set up a colony of 164 trades-men and farmers along the banks of the Mana River, some 80 miles from the capital, Cayenne. Five years later, the number had dwindled to one family, reduced to the poorest conditions. Realizing its inability to cope with colonization, the French Government turned to Anne-Marie. The result was that 86 laymen and 36 nuns sailed on two ships for Cayenne. Anne-Marie was to direct the Colony as the Government desired, but she intended far more. She knew of the Indian tribes in the area, the hundreds of slaves imported from Africa, and the wretched lepers nearby. She had hopes of bringing teen-age orphans, the sad remains of the Napoleonic wars, from France, so that they could settle down to a new life, once the Colony was on its feet. This extraordinary nun, however, did not live in a whirl of dreams. “I am taking you to Purgatory,” she warned her helpers.

Once at New Angouleme (AnneMarie’s new Colony) the farmers and tradesmen all obeyed the nun and lived a community life, rising for 4 o‘clock Mass and stopping work at 10 o‘clock because of the oppressive heat; the Angelus and dinner were at noon. Schooling was for European children, and for Indians and Africans if they so desired. Particular times were set aside for community and individual works. For Sisters, Colonists and natives the time-table was the same. All worked for the betterment of the Colony and all were responsible to one person-a 50 year old woman, a nun, and, many believe, a Saint.

The Colony advanced so well, that Anne-Marie was able to leave, for a short time, to inspect two other Mission Stations on the Carribean (Guadeloupe and Martinque) but when she returned, she found that 10 settlers had left. Brother Pierre had inclined to be dictatorial. Also, the old antipathy which dogs human nature, arose in the baby Colony. The whites objected to their children being taught in the school beside black children. Anne-Marie was firm: “I am here, remember, more as a missionary of God, than a missionary of France. The African children remained.

THE LEPERS

We—frequently read of lepers in the Bible, but the biblical terror has been so often repeated that it has become rather remote from our own lives. Damien, the leperpriest, described leprosy more vividly: “Discoloured patches appear on the skin, especially on the cheeks, and the parts affected lose their feeling. After a time, this discoloration covers the entire body; then, ulcers begin to open, chiefly at the extremities. The flesh is eaten away, and gives out a fetid odour; even the breath of the leper becomes so foul, that the air around is poisoned with it. . . . Sometimes, I feel no repugnance, whenI hear the confessions of those near their end, whose wounds are full of maggots.” Yet, even Damien admitted: “The smell of their filth, mixed with the exhalation of their sores, was simply disgusting, unbearable to the newcomer. Many times, in their huts,I have been obliged to run outside to breathe fresh air.”

In our own times, one of AnneMarie’s followers describes a frightening scene, soon after she arrived to work among the lepers at Ducos, New Caledonia: “The cook himself, is a patient and has not enough of his fingers left to stir his miserable pots. His face is completely destroyed and he has no lips. He cannot prevent his saliva from falling into the dishes. Because of his leprosy, he cannot feel the heat and so there are many burns on his poor feet and arms.”

DEPLORABLE CONDITION

It was for people like these, with grotesque and vile-smelling bodies, that Anne-Marie brought her nuns across the seas. The lepers” condition was particularly deplorable as when she arrived, very few had managed to build grass huts, and so the strong, salty winds bit into their sores. Food was scarce and fresh water rare. It is little wonder that suicide was their only escape from a wretched, lawless life, where all kinds of immorality were practised.

One can imagine AnneMarie’s joy when she was able to liberate the hundred lepers from their desolate prison. It was a goal which had taken three years to achieve- three years of brick-marking, of floating the bricks by raft down the Mana and back up the Acarouany to the proposed site; of mending clothes; of donating great stores of food supplies to tide the lepers over the unsettled period, before their own vegetable gardens could produce. Certainly, the colonists made great sacrifices for the lepers, thanks to the encouraging and ever-sacrificing Anne-Marie.

IN TROUBLES AND DISTRESS

At the main Colony, success was not conspicuous. Letters from those settlers who had deserted began arriving, and within a year, only two families remained. So in 1833, Anne-Marie left the New Angouleme Colony and its failure. “From the looks of things, you would not think that I had done anything at all.” Five years” work seemed lost.

If she left failure at the Colony, she turned towards trouble in France. The Bishop of the diocese where the Congregation was founded had taken it upon himself to become its Superior-General, and he was perfectly satisfied to use any means he could, to gain his end. Apparently, French bishops, at that time, believed that a bishop had such a right, when the Mother House of a Congregation was in his own diocese. Who was the Bishop of Autun? To the faithful he must have been a sad sight. Born a marquis, commissioned in the French army at 20, he became a priest after two years” study, and four years after his seminary training, became Bishop of Autun. He had important friends, and the Church was to suffer as a consequence. Indeed, the struggle was to rage for 18 years between the bishop and the foundress. The story of this trouble makes sad reading and becomes far too involved for such a short biography. Suffice to say, Anne-Marie suffered much during this period at the hands of this man. O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, still persecuting the prophets!

A SECOND TRY

At last the conscience of the world was feeling chafed. In 1831 a Bill freeing slaves was passed. Immediate liberation was impossible, as this would place a financial strain on the Colony’s budgets, so a seven-year probation period was decided upon, during which the slaves were to prove themselves suitable members of society or be returned to slavery. Back in French Guiana, 500 slaves walked off the plantations and headed to Cayenne where they were put on the Government pay-roll and sub-leased back to their old plantations. They needed to learn how to use freedom. In 1835 the Government sought what they had been looking for, Anne-Marie-a person who could teach the slaves. Very soon they agreed that a colony should be set up, not on the New Angouleme site, but on the Mana plateau, which was cooler, less muggy, and closer to the leprosarium on the Acarouany. As there were only three years left before the probation expired, the Government suggested that two more years should be added. Everything was supplied-even priests and a doctor. Anne-Marie had complete charge; such was the confidence Government officials had in the 56 year old Cluny foundress. As King Louis Philippe exclaimed: “Madame Javouhey is a great man.”

En route for Mana, she inspected the religious houses at Senegal, and remembering that most of the 500 probationers were men, she gathered 60 African women and brought them to Cayenne-a matter which our own Australian Government neglected when they began extensive migration for young European males. Naturally, the French Governor was aghast. Five hundred unruly problems were enough, without increasing their numbers. Even the captain distrusted the slaves and was afraid to take them on his ship. Yet by the end of 1836, 520 Africans were safely installed in the Colony.

MANA

Life at Mana was much the same as it had been at New Angouleme. A town took shape, complete with houses in well-planned streets, a chapel, a clinic, a convent for the nuns, and a dormitory for the unmarried women. Naturally, the social life had its rules and regulations, as any hostel must.

Settling the town was not AnneMarie’s only task. Large areas of land had to be cleared and divided into suitable blocks for the slaves soon to be freed. They dug irrigation channels and planted bananas and manioc (plant with a tuberous root, similar to a parsnip), so that when the farms were finally occupied they would already be producing crops and would have a four months” rice supply. The Colony added to the competition of the plantation owners, while slaves, still to be freed, fled to its protection. On one occasion, while Anne-Marie was visiting the leprosarium, the owner seized his slaves, seeking refuge at the Colony, and burnt one of them alive. When Anne-Marie returned to the Colony, there was no vessel to take her to Cayenne, so she completed a forced jungle march of 50 miles, by a route now known as the Javouhey road. Yet all was in vain. As the Governor pointed out, how does a court proceed when a black man is on trial before a white judge, white jury and white witnesses? Such jungle justice is not strange to our civilized times either. In 1964, some men were tried for the lynch-murder of three civil rights workers in America. On examining the bodies of the victims, a pathologist stated:”I have never seen bones so severely shattered, except in tremendously highspeed accidents, such as aeroplane crashes.” Negro leaders doubted if any of the accused would be convicted for this atrocity, because of the all-white jury. They were right. The murderers were acquitted and became heroes. More and more twentieth-century Anne-Marie Javouheys must step forward.

DISASTER AVERTED

If civil rights defenders are called “nigger-lovers” today, they were called negrophiles in her day. Anne-Marie was accused of being one such person, and for a variety reasons, plantation owners, bishops and priests united in an attempt to remove her, yet, strangely enough, each attempt was blocked by the arrival of some Government personage. Although still unaware of the unison and collaboration of her enemies, she was moved by the Holy Spirit to make a drastic change. She ordered Sister Rosalie to return from Senegal to France as Superior-General. This unorthodox move actually saved the Congregation from disaster.

The scandalous behaviour of her enemies makes poor reading in this story of love, so I have avoided it. Nevertheless, the following will serve to demonstrate the hatred her enemies bore her. One night, before leaving the leprosarium, a native warned her that one of the rowers of the boat in which she would return, was paid by the colonists to upset it and thus drown her. Despite the warning, the lone white woman sat for four hours, head bowed in prayer, as always on this trip, and nothing extraordinary happened that time when they rowed from the leprosarium to Mana. The would-be murderer had faltered because of her fearlessness.

SLAVE OF THE SLAVES

Then came the joyful day, 21st May, 1838, when, after Mass, 185 slaves were emancipated. As one of them admitted: “We are free now, but we will never be free from the debt we owe you. We can only repay you with this promise: you will never be ashamed of us.” We are told that on receiving their charters of freedom, the freed men immediately handed them to Anne-Marie, the one person they could trust, but to their simple minds, the proof of their freedom was not the parchment, but the right to wear boots. The comical expressions accompanying the effort to fit into the boots which Reverend Mother had provided, added to thejoy of the occasion. “If you could only see this population, whose aspect was so formidable and uninviting just two years ago,” she wrote to Rosalie. “It is today so changed, so edifying and, for the most part, so virtuous that I cannot but see how truly it is the work of God.”

In 1841, Mana was truly prospering. Four hundred slaves had been emancipated. AnneMarie’s irrigation channels had saved and produced the only bumper crops in Guiana during a severe drought, and, surprisingly enough, a convict at Devil’s Island whom she had met on her trip to the lepers, had now been liberated, and was supervising the rum distillery. The Mana community paid for a long shed, in which were four big vats, and a little railway joining the distillery with the canefields. About 200 other liberated slaves moved into Mana, which without a single policeman, was quiet and law-abiding. Everyone was literate, and children received full education. It was to the nun who organized this idyllic settlement, that Bishop Guillier, aided in his beliefs by the sickening behaviour of his fellow colonists and the unreliable reports of AnneMarie’s chaplains and the grasping Bishop of Autun, announced that this “white Queen” and servant of the devil must put aside her religious habit or suffer excommunication. No Communion! No Confession! Anne-Marie was excommunicated.

IN DISGRACE

For two years Anne-Marie, who had crossed the world and suffered so many times for God, remained in disgrace, a scandal to all. We are told that this holy nun used to take long walks in the scrub, long lonely walks, while she conversed with the Master. “When I think of what has happened to me here, and I realize the weaknesses behind it all, I have to laugh-and sometimes I have to cry,” she admitted. We are told that natives unexpectedly disturbed her in tears, yet a peaceful serenity remained with her always. She was no doleful creature; she had a smile for everyone. Under it all, the devil had managed to bring her very low. He never broke her. “I am always happy, even amid worries and contradictions. Sad I may be at times, but my heart is always buoyant. May my example be a guide to you always. Bear all for the love of God and thus you will find consolation and peace of soul.”

The years were fleeing into the past. The Government would not finance another such colony nor more schools for the black children, and so AnneMarie’s stay at Mana ended. It was a sad farewell; a ship in the river surrounded by an ocean of bobbing canoes, in which the people, she had raised from slaves to free men, saluted her. They followed her ship down to the river-mouth. They could never forget her.

NOW AND AT THE HOUR

Over 60 years old, she returned to France, where a bishop, appalled at her excommunication, freed her from the punishment, and the whole world recognized her greatness. The Queen visited her twice. Bishops, priests and laymen honoured her, and her Congregation grew and spread. She had over one thousand followers, but a few powerful enemies. The Bishop of Autun (France) still combining with Bishop Guillier (Guiana), realizing that his chances of controlling the Congregation were dwindling, set about to destroy it. One of his priests warned the 80 postulants and novices at Cluny that it was sinful to obey the orders of any of the Superiors-namely those who were loyal to AnneMarie. All but seven of these young nuns stood by their Foundress. Next, the Bishop of Autun secretly scattered reports to all the bishops in whose dioceses the Congregation had houses. Bishop Guillier’s unfounded charges against Anne-Marie were of course included; only after a long time was Anne-Marie informed of the plot to defame her, and then she refuted the charges. The bishop continued his manoeuvres.

The Revolution of 1848 clutched France in another death-grasp, but Anne-Marie moved safely through the fighting. She organized the Sisters into a kind of ambulance-brigade which cared for the wounded. Two of the Cluny houses were offered for the children of the fathers who had fallen in the riots. The atrocities eventually ceased, but in their wake came a plague of cholera, and the old nun, almost 70, replaced nursing Sisters who had themselves been infected. At length the plague ended. “O my God, I thank you for the sorrows and crosses you have sent me. How good You are.”

THE AGEING HEROINE

During these last few years, when she was almost always sick, the elderly heroine drove herself harder and harder. There was still so much to be done: “If I don’t work, what would I do with myself?” “ People came: to her for advice; she was so united to God, that to speak with AnneMarie was like speaking to God. “Let us love truth, straightforwardness. The truth may hurt sometimes, but never does harm.” Often during the bitter winter months of 1850–51, Mother General was heard to say: “My task is finished; the work I was called to do is done.” Yet, it was done. She had planned to go to Rome to finalize matters for her Congregation, but as she grew feeble, she realized: “I have another journey before me, which I mustmake alone.” So it was that on 15th July, 1851, the Mother General of 1,200 followers and Foundress of the Sisters of St. Joseph of Cluny, Anne-Marie Javouhey died. She was 71 years old.

It is easy to write of the glorious days which followed-the miracles performed through her intercession, the papal declaration of 1908 acclaiming Anne-Marie Venerable, the formal day of Beatification, 15th October, 1950, but the fame and glories of “the woman God loved” seem far away and unrelated to us who have the battle to fight, promises to keep, souls to save and God to be glorified.

It is unnecessary to enumerate her virtues. Possibly her total forgiveness of the bishop, who for 18 years, worked to topple her labours, speaks for itself. Only half-anhour before her death, she said to Sister Rosalie: “We ought to think of His Lordship as one of our benefactors. God made use of him to try us, when, as a rule, we were hearing round us nothing but praise.” In the month between his death and hers, she prayed for the repose of the soul of “that good bishop.” Such was her complete forgiveness.

THE MODERN ANNE-MARIE

If AnneMarie was a light in yesterday’s darkness, where are today’s lights? Just look at the present darkness. War is just round the corner, and the last one involved mass slaughters of soldiers and civilians. At the same time millions of Jews were butchered, simply because they were Jews. If the world suffered through Nazism then, we have Communism now; Communism, which cages men by a Berlin Wall, nests of concentration camps, a vigilant spy system and armed guards. Communists infiltrate into religion and set man against man and religion against religion. Ironically, the thoughtful who point out the trickery of this ideology are despised and known as fanatics, as fools and as dramatists. And Catholic Italy, France and South America are falling prey to this sinister disease. Have we no fear for the world in which nearly half the people are starving? We build more siloes to house unmarketed food and some greedy business men would prefer to dump produce into the sea rather than risk a drop in the market-price-or feed the starving. Have you no fear for the world?

Racially speaking, atheism is victorious. The down-trodden Negro in America and England, or the abandoned Chinese in Hong Kong bears witness to this. And all about us, people on the street, in the paper, over the wireless and on the screen flaunt a way of life which is both seductive and degrading, while we sit back, supposedly innocent, selfsatisfied, and I fear, tainted. These are challenging times! We, Catholics, are the light of the world, where is our light? People are spiritually dead, we give them no truth. People are starving, we give them no food. People are ignorant, we give them no knowledge. People are hated, we give them no love.

WHAT IS YOUR VISION

What is your vision, kind reader? Is it to be an Anne-Marie Javouhey in your own right? A light in the darkness? In Australia we need more Anne-Maries to staff the family cottages for orphans, the hospitals where our sick lie, and the schools where our children await the truth. The various Catholic Action Groups all grind to a halt, if certain people with the mind of Anne-Marie Javouhey do not come forth. And what of your family, young mother and wife; what of your fellow-students, Catholic pupil; what of your fiance, young lady; what of that afternoon-tea circle, old lady; what of the people about you, Catholic of the 1960”s, if you don’t spark off their imaginations, so that they seek good? Spur yourself to live for others and whip others into action for the world. What challenging times!

Spur yourself to live for others and whip others into action for the world in which 66 per cent of the people are the under-privileged non-christians. Perhaps you have a vision of coloured people as Anne-Marie once did? Then go to them. You can you know as a Lay Missionary! Whatever your skill, can you give a few years of your life? Spread the Good News of Christ everywhere. It is too good, too full of hope and certainty to be left unknown. Spread this Message as Anne-Marie did among the Africans. Become another Anne-Marie with the nurses, teachers, carpenters, plumbers, farmers, mechanics, pilots, doctors, dentists, orderlies and builders who are, even now, blasting their way to future glory. In her time, Anne-Marie accomplished her mission, but the times have rolled on. Now the coloured people look to us. What challenging times!

If only we realized that while we ponder about our lives, the destiny of souls is hanging in the balance; the whole of Eternity is poised; the lives of people yet unheard of are waiting, and the children yet unborn are depending on us while we hesitate on the brink. Why suffer an inferiority complex when the world is waiting for us, needing us? The gates have swung open; the green light is flashing; time for action has come.

IS IT YOU?

I am also writing to someone else. Is it to you, young woman, between the age of 16 and 30? An ardent love, an overwhelming desire to be a religious is not a requisite for a religious. Simply a desire, the will to do something worthwhile with your life, to accomplish something which will leave an unforgettable mark on the world, or a desire to bring God, goodness and happiness to an unhappy world is all that is needed. Feelings do not count. Your act of the will does. Simply say: “Yes, Lord.” “Yes,” to the various works of Anne-Marie Javouhey which have spread into our times. Her followers battle for Christ in classrooms and mission villages; in hospital wards and leprosaria; in orphanages and mental homes and in caring for retired ladies. These “angels in blue habits,” these Sisters of St. Joseph of Cluny, go wherever they are needed and they are needed everywhere. With 118 convents in Europe, 26 in Asia, 92 in Africa, 63 in America and 16 in Oceania, the spirit of Blessed Anne-Marie has reached Australian shores, where there are only three houses. Two of these are convents with a seminary.

“GO AND MAKE READY FOR US, HE SAID, TO EAT” -LUKE 22:8

The Sister’s life in a seminary is to co -operate closely in the training of tomorrow’s priests. Perhaps her life may not have the attractions of other vocations, but it has what all other’s lack: an intimate connection with the priesthood. It is nothing less than carrying out what Mary, our Mother, did for the first Priest. For the Sister cooks, sews, nurses, sets the students” tables and prays for the priests of the twentieth-century, as truly as Mary did for Christ, in the first century. Mary was never in the public eye, but she was always nearby, when she was needed. So too, the Sister’s most important work is not what men may see or weigh or measure, but her Masses, prayers and sacrifices she offers for the future priests.

Then, when Ordination day comes, she shares in a mother’s joy, for she has somehow replaced the seminarian’s natural mother, and she has shared in Mary’s spiritual motherhood. The Sister knows that these young men, whom she has helped, even by her own shining example, are, at Ordination, priests forever, and they will always remember her in every Mass for the rest of their days.

The seminary Sister also knows that today’s chores are not only caring for the future Christs out in the dining—room, but, united with the sufferings of the crucified Saviour, are giving strength to Mother Rose who labours in an Indian hospital despite 180 m.p.h. winds and floods; courage to Sister Othilde, who, for 30 years, has heroically nursed the lepers of New Caledonia; consolation to the young Vietnamese soldier who lies mortally wounded in a rice-field; faith to the doubting convert; hope to the weary negro; love to the parent and child; patience to the priest and perseverance to the seminarian. Be sure that wherever good is done on earth, where an unbelieving soul humbly submits, where a loving parent joyfully accepts his own child’s handicap, where a sick person rolls in agony but trusts in the Holy Will of God, where you, reader, have success when you did not expect it, be sure that this grace, from God, was not inspired by your own good works, but by the offered seconds, minutes, hours and days of nuns like those in a seminary. Truly their convent is a powerhouse- no wonder, within the seminary, it is a peace within a peace. No wonder the gaiety of these nuns exposes the falsehoods of the grim, morose caricatures of convent life, which ignorant men love to portray in films and books.

There is accomplishment in the nun’s day and she knows it. Perhaps you, young lady, are destined to be another Mary, a Sister Marie-Therese or Assumpta, or even a Mother Camillus or a Mother Joseph. If so, I congratulate you on your destiny. And I suggest that all people, who live unspectacular lives, can accomplish extraordinary wonders if they, like the Sisters, offer the grace of every trivial act for some lofty motive. Passing through the doorway, racing for the train and glancing at a watch are all actions which can be coated with graces. So perform them with a will. One day you will be surprised when you are rewarded for the good that you have done. Lucky you!

Certainly very many people, religious and lay folk, are fighting a good fight, as all Catholics must. We are all conscripted to rout Satan on the dusty basketball court, in the sunlit church, before the inky typewriter, in the smoking compartment, down the lonely alleyway, within the convent walls. All of us are comrades in the war of all wars. We should do well, then, if we were to remember the words of General Javouhey, as she was once called in a riot-torn Paris street: “Come, my dear. Pluck up heart. Shake off your enemy indolence which tells you fairytales. Don’t listen to the pride which lurks beneath the (humble) violet; pride is so afraid of failure and the people may laugh at it. Pay no attention to “What will people say?” and: “Never, never lose heart. Remember that Heaven is the prize and eternity is unending.”

Nihil Obstat:

BERNARD O”CONNOR, Diocesan Censor.

Imprimatur:

@ JUSTIN D. SIMONDS, Archbishop of Melbourne. 30–9-65

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The Agony of Our Lord In The Garden

BY PADRE PIO

INDEX

“Divine Spirit, lighten my intelligence and inflame my heart while I meditate on the Passion of Jesus. Help me to penetrate this mystery of love and suffering of my God who made man, suffered and died for me.

“The Eternal, the Immortal, humbled himself to undergo an indescribable martyrdom, the infamous death on the Cross, amidst insults, jeers and ignominy, in order to save His creatures who had outraged him and who wallowed in the filth of sin.

“Man savours sin and God, on account of sin, is deathly sad; the pangs of a cruel agony make him sweat blood. . . . .

“No, I cannot penetrate this ocean of love and suffering unless thy grace, O Lord, assist me. Give me access to the most intimate depths of the Heart of Jesus, so that I may commune there on the bitterness which led Him to the Mount of Olives, to the gates of death and to console Him in the final abandonment. May I be joined to Him, abandoned by his Father and by Himself, so that I may expiate with Him.

“Mary, Mother of Sorrows, let me follow Jesus and commune intimately in His Passion and in thy affliction.

“Guardian Angel, keep my faculties steadfast in Jesus who suffered, so that they never become detached from Him.

“At the end of his earthly life, after delivering himself to us entirely in the Sacrament of his Love, the Lord went to the Mount of Olives which the disciples knew, as did Judas. On the way he taught them and prepared them for his imminent Passion; he invited them to suffer for love of Him, calumny, persecution, even death, that they might be transfigured in his likeness, their divine model.

“At the moment of entering upon his bitter Passion, it was not of Himself that he thought, but of thee.

“What depths of love does his Heart not contain! His Holy Face is filled with sadness and utter tenderness. His words spring from the profoundest depths of his Heart and overflow with love.

“O Jesus, my heart is overwhelmed when I think of the love which made Thee speed towards Thy Passion. Thou hast taught us that there is no greater love than to give one’s life for those one loves. Now Thou art on the point of sealing those words with Thy example.

“In the Garden, the Master went apart from His disciples, taking only three witnesses to His Agony-Peter, James and John. Having seen Him transfigured on Mount Tabor, would they have the strength to recognise the Man-God in this being, broken by the agony of death?

“On entering the Garden He said to them: “Do you abide here. Watch and pray that you may not enter into temptation. Be on your guard, for the enemy sleepeth not. Arm yourselves in advance with prayer, lest you be surprised and led into sin. This is my hour of darkness.”

“Having exhorted them, he walked towards a stone fountain and prostrated himself. His soul was plunged in a sea of bitterness and extreme affliction.

“It was late. The pale night was filled with sinister shadows. The moon seemed infused with blood. The wind stirred the branches of the trees and pierced to the marrow. The whole of nature seemed to quiver in secret terror:

“O Night, such as had never before been seen!

“This was the spot where Jesus prayed. He divested His sacred Humanity of the strength which was its right, by its union with the Godhead. He plunged it into an abyss of sadness, agony, abjection. His spirit seemed to be submerged . . .

“He could foresee his Passion. . . . . .

“He could see Judas his beloved apostle who would sell him for a few pieces of silver. . . . He was now on the way to Gethsemane to betray and deliver him to his enemies. And yet, a few hours before had he not nourished him with his Flesh and quenched his thirst with his own Blood? Prostrate before him he had washed his feet, pressed them to his heart and kissed them with his lips. What had he not done to halt him on the brink of sacrilege or at least to bring him to repentance? But no, now he was hastening to his perdition. . . . . . Jesus wept.

He saw himself dragged through the streets of Jerusalem where a few days ago he had been acclaimed as the Messiah. He saw himself humiliated before the High Priest. He heard the cries: “Put to death.” He, the Life-giver, dragged like a clout from one tribunal to another.

“The people, His well-loved chosen people, jeering, hissing and abusing Him, loudly demanding His death-and what a death. Death by crucifixion. He heard their false accusations; saw himself being flogged, crowned with thorns, derided and hailed as the false king.

“He saw Himself constrained to bear the Cross to Calvary, succumbing beneath its weight, staggering, falling. . . . . .

“And now He has reached Calvary, bereft of his garments, stretched on the Cross, nailed pitilessly to it, suspended between Heaven and earth. He hangs there panting from the nails in indescribable torture. My God! Those three long hours of agony which will make him succumb to the jeers of the rage-intoxicated mob.

“He saw his throat and bowels devoured by burning thirst and the sponge soaked in vinegar and gall to quench His thirst.

“He saw His Father who abandoned Him and his Mother bowed down with grief.

“An ignominious death between two thieves. If one confessed and was saved, the other blasphemed and died unrepentant.

“He saw Longinus approach and thrust the spear into his side.

“And at last, the extreme humiliation of body and soul reft apart. . . . .

“All this, scene by scene, passed before his eyes, and terror seized his heart.

“Would he draw back?

“From the very first moment he had embraced all, accepted all. Why then this dire terror? Because he had exposed his sacred humanity as a shield to parry the blows of Justice, outraged by sin.

“He felt vividly in spirit all he had to suffer. For each sin, its individual pain. . . . He was crushed because he himself was a prey to his terror, weakness and anxiety.

“He seemed to have plumbed the depths of pain. He prostrated himself before the majesty of his Father. The sacred Face of the Man-God, who enjoyed beatific vision, lay there in the dust, unrecognisable. My Jesus! Art thou not God? Master of Heaven and earth? Equal to the Father? Why dost thou abase thyself until thou losest all human aspect?

“Oh, yes. . . . . I understand. Thou wouldst teach me in my pride that to scale the heavens I must plumb the very depths. It is to expiate my arrogance that thou has bent thy head. It is to reconcile Heaven and earth that thou liest prostrate on the ground as if thou wished to give it the kiss of peace.

“Jesus raised his eyes to Heaven in supplication, raised his arms and prayed. His face was deathly pale as he entreated his Father who would not hear his plea. He prayed with filial trust, but he knew the place he occupied-the victim of the whole of mankind, exposed to the wrath of an outraged God. He knew that he alone could satisfy infinite Justice and reconcile the Creator with his creatures. He desired it, demanded it. But his nature was literally broken. It rebelled against such a sacrifice. And yet his spirit was prepared for the immolation, and the bitter combat continued.

“Jesus, how can we ask thee for strength when we see thee so weak and so beset?

“Yes, I understand. Thou hast taken all our weaknesses upon thyself. To give us strength thou hast been the scapegoat. Thou wishest to teach us that in thee alone we must trust, even if Heaven appears to us to be obdurate.

“In his Agony Jesus cried to his Father: “If it is possible, let this chalice pass me by.” It was the cry of nature which in its distress turned trustingly to heaven. Although he knew that his prayer would not be answered, since he willed it thus, he prayed nevertheless. “ My Jesus, who dost thou ask what thou knowest thou canst not obtain?”

“Mystery that makes one reel! The pain that afflicted thee made thee beg for aid and comfort, but thy love for us and thy desire to lead us back to God made thee say: “Only as Thy will is, not as mine is.”

“His anguished Heart yearned for comfort. Gently he rose to his feet, took a few staggering steps. He approached his disciples; they at least were his friends, his confidants, they would understand and share his pain. . . .

“He found them deep in sleep. How lonely and abandoned he suddenly felt. “Simon, art thou sleeping?” he says softly to Peter. “Thou who didst say that thou wouldst follow me unto death.”

“He turned to the others: “Had you no strength to watch with me even for an hour?” Once more he forgot his own sufferings and thought of them. “Watch and pray that you may not fall into temptation.”

“He seems to be saying: “If ye have forgotten me so soon, I who wrestle and suffer, at least in your own interest watch and pray!”

“But they, intoxicated with sleep, hardly heard him.

“O, my Jesus, how many generous souls, touched by thy complaints, keep thee company in the Garden of Olives, sharing thy bitterness and thy mortal fear! How many hearts down the ages have generously replied to thy appeal! May they console thee and, sharing thy distress, operate in thy work of salvation! May I myself be counted among their number and comfort thee, be it but a little, O my Jesus!”

“Jesus returned to his place of prayer and another picture even more terrible rose before his eyes. All our sins in their least detail filed past him. He saw the extreme vulgarity of those who commit them. He knew to what extent they outraged the divine Majesty. He saw all the infamies, all the obscenities, all the blasphemies which sully hearts and ups created to sing the praises of God. He saw the sacrileges which dishonour priests and the faithful. He saw the monstrous abuse of the sacraments, which He had introduced for our salvation and which can become the cause of our damnation.

“He had to don all this foetid muck of human corruption. He had to present himself thus before the sanctity of his Father in Heaven. He had to expiate each sin separately and render to his Father all its stolen glory. To save the sinner He has to descend into the mire.

“But this did not daunt him. Like a monstrous wave the mud enveloped and submerged him. Now he stood before his Father, God of Justice. He, the Holy of Holies, bowed beneath the weight of the sins, in the image of sinners. Who could plumb his horror and utter repugnance? This gulp of disgust, that hideous nausea!

“Having taken everything upon himself without exception, he was crushed by the appalling burden and groaned under the weight of Divine Justice, face to face with his Father, who had allowed his Son to offer himself as a victim for the sins of the world, and to become like “an accursed one.”

“His purity shuddered before this infamous burden, but at the same time he saw outraged Justice, the sinner condemned. . . . . . Two forces, two loves conflicting in his heart. Outraged Justice was the victor. But what an infinitely pitiful sight! This man charged with all our blemishes. He the essential Sanctity, outwardly resembling the criminals. He trembled like a leaf. . . . .

“To bear this terrible agony, he plunged himself in prayer. Prostrated before the Majesty of his Father, he said: “Father, let this chalice pass me by.” It is as though he said: “Father, I desire thy glory. I want to see thy Justice done. I want a reconciliation with mankind. But not at this price! That I, the essence of Sanctity, must thus be spattered with filth, oh no! not that! O Father, to whom all is possible, let this chalice pass me by and find another means of salvation in the unbounded treasure of thy Wisdom. But if thou art not willing, only as thy will is, not as mine is!

“Once more the Saviour’s prayer remained unanswered. He felt the throes of death. Painfully he rose to his feet in search of comfort. He felt his strength ebbing. He staggered towards his disciples. Once more he found them asleep. His sadness was even greater. He was content to wake them. Were they ashamed? Jesus said nothing. I can only see him incredibly sad. He kept to himself all the bitterness of this abandonment.

“My Jesus, how great is the pain I read in thy Heart which overflows with distress. I see Thee turn away from thy disciples after this blow to thy heart. May I bring thee some comfort, console thee a little. . . . But knowing naught else I can but weep with thee. The tears of my love and my compunction join with thy tears. Thus they rise to the throne of the Father begging him to have pity on thee and on so many souls that are plunged in the sleep of sin and death.

“Jesus returned to his place of prayer, exhausted and sore distressed. He fell to the ground rather than prostrated himself. He felt crushed by mortal fear and his prayers grew more fervid.

“His Father averted his eyes, as though His Son were the most abject of men.

“I seem to hear the complaints of the Saviour: “If only man, for whom I suffer thus, would profit by the grace I procure for him by my great suffering! If only he recognises at its true value the “price I pay to redeem him and to give him the life of the Son of God! Ah, this love that tears myheart more cruelly than my executioners will soon tear my flesh. . . . “

“He saw the man who does not know because he does not wish to know, who blasphemes against the Divine Blood, and what is more irreparable, leads him to damnation. How few will profit, how many more will hasten to their destruction!

“In the great distress of his Heart he continued to repeat: ‘Quae utilitas in sanguine meo? How few avail themselves of my Blood!”

“But the thought of this small number sufficed to make him face the Passion and death.

“Nothing and no-one to whom he could turn for an iota of comfort. Heaven was closed to him. Man, although weighted down by his sins, was ungrateful and unaware of his love. He felt drowned in pain and cried in the pangs of his agony: “ My soul is sick unto death.”

“O Divine Blood, thou wellest eternally from the Heart of Jesus, thou flowest from all his pores to wash this poor ungrateful earth. Grant that I may gather this most precious Blood, above all these first drops. I wish to keep thee in the chalice of my heart. Thou art the irrefutable proof of the love which alone made thee flow. May I be purified in thee, O most precious Blood! I would purify all souls sullied by sin. I would offer thee to the Heavenly Father.

“This is the Blood of his beloved Son who came down to earth to purify it. This is the Blood of his Son who ascends to his throne to reconcile outraged Justice. The satisfaction is in truth superabundant!

But is Jesus at the end of his sufferings?

“Oh, no, he does not wish to dam up the flood of his love. Man must learn how much he, the Man-God, loves him. Man must know to what depths of abjection such an extreme love can be reduced. Even if the Father’s Justice is satisfied by the sweat of the Most Precious Blood, man needs palpable proofs of this love.

“Jesus would therefore go to the limit; to an ignominious death on the Cross.

“The contemplative would perhaps grasp a shadow of this love which brought Him to the pangs of the sacred Agony in the Garden of Olives. But the man who lived enmeshed in the material affairs of the world and who looked more to the earth than to the sky, had to see him outwardly nailed to the Cross, so that at least the sight of his Blood and his cruel martyrdom might move his heart.

“No, his loving Heart was not yet satisfied. Collecting himself, he prayed anew: “My Father, if this chalice may not pass me by, but I must drink it, then thy will be done!”

“From this moment Jesus, from the bottom of his heart, consumed with love, responded to the cry of mankind which demanded his death as the price of Redemption. To the death sentence which his Father had pronounced in Heaven, the earth replied by demanding his death. Jesus bowed his adorable head. “My Father, if it is possible, let this chalice pass me by; only asthy will is, not as mine is.”

“And now the Father sent him a consoling angel. What comfort could an angel offer to the God of Strength, the Invincible God, the All-Powerful God? But this God had wanted to assume the liability, this man of suffering at grips with the Agony. It was his love that made him sweat drops of blood.

“He prayed to his Father for himself and for us. His Father refused to hear his prayer for he had to die for us. I think that the angel bowed low before the Eternal Beauty, sullied with dust and blood, and that with unutterable respect he entreated Jesus to drink the cup to the glory of God the Father and for the redemption of sinners.

He prayed thus in order to teach us to have recourse to Heaven only when our souls were distressed like his.

“He our Strength, would come to our aid, since he had agreed to assume all our distresses.

“Yes, my Jesus, now thou must drink the cup to the dregs! Now thou art pledged to thy cruel death.

“Jesus, may naught separate me from thee; neither life nor death! If I adhere to thy suffering throughout my life with infinite love, I shall be allowed to die with thee on Calvary and to ascend with thee to glory. If I follow thee in thy torments and persecution, thou will make me worthy to love thee one day before Heaven and to sing thy praises as an action of grace for thy cruel Passion.

“But see! Jesus rises to his feet out of the dust, strong, invincible! Has he not desired, with an inordinate desire, this feast of blood? He shakes off his dismay, wipes the bloody sweat from his Face and makes for the exit of the garden with resolute steps.

“Whither goest thou, Jesus? Wert thou not a moment since a prey to anxiety and grief? Did I not see thee trembling and as though crushed by the cruel weight of thy forthcoming ordeals? Whither goes thou, with that firm, intrepid step? To whom wilt thou deliver thyself?

“Hark, my child, the weapons of prayer came to my aid and allowed me to conquer, my spirit overcame the weakness of nature. Strength came to me in prayer and now I can face my ordeal. Follow my example and treat with Heaven as I have done.

“Jesus approached the apostles. They were still sleeping. The emotion, the late hour, the presentiment of some horrible and irreparable disaster and weariness had made them fall into a leaden sleep. Jesus had pity on their weakness. He cried: “Sleep and take your rest hereafter.” He paused for a moment. Hearing him approach they opened their eyes with a great effort. . . . .Jesus went on:

“As I speak the time draws near when the Son of Man is to be betrayed into the hands of sinners. . . . Rise up, let us go on our way; already he that is to betray me is close at hand. . . . . .”

“Jesus saw all this with his divine eyes. He seemed to say: “You, my friends and disciples, sleep while my enemies watch and draw near to arrest me. Thou, Peter, whom I thought steadfast enough to follow me even unto death, thou sleepest now. From the beginning thou gavest me proof of thy weaknesses. But be of good cheer. I have assumed thy weakness and I have prayed for thee. When thou hast confessed thy fault, I will be thy strength and thou shalt feed my flock. . . . . . And thou, John, thou too art asleep. Thou who felt the beatings of my heart, couldst thou not watch with me for one hour? Rise and let us go, there is no time left for sleep. The enemy is at the gate!

This is the hour of the power of darkness. Let us go! Of my own free will I go towards my death. Judas is hastening to betray me and I would go and meet him. I shall see that the prophecies are carried out to the letter. My hour has come; the hour of Infinite Compassion.”

“The echo of footsteps. Lighted torches filled the garden with purple shadows. Jesus stepped forward, followed by his disciples, intrepid and calm.

“O, my Jesus. Give me strength when my weak nature rebels against all the ills that threaten it, so that I may with love accept the pain and distress of this life in exile. I adhere with all my strength to thy merits, thy sufferings, thy expiation and thy tears so that I may work with thee in the work of redemption and that I may have the strength to flee from sin, the sole cause of thy agony, of thy bloody sweat and thy death.

“Destroy in me all that displeases thee and imprint on my heart with the fire of thy sacred love all thy sufferings. Kiss me so intimately, with such a strong and tender embrace, that I shall never abandon thee to thy cruel torments.

“I ask but one repose: on thy Heart. I desire but one thing: to share in thy divine Agony. May my soul be intoxicated by thy Blood and be nourished by the bread of thy suffering! Amen.”

PRAYER TO ST. MARGARET MARY

O Saint Margaret Mary! thou whom the Sacred Heart of Jesus hast made a participator of His divine treasures we implore thee to obtain all the graces we stand in need of from that adorable Heart.

We ask them of Him with a confidence that has no limit. May the divine Heart vouchsafe to grant them to us through thy intercession so that He may once more be glorified and loved through thee. Amen.

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The Assumption

A DOGMA AND ITS CRITICS

D.G.M. JACKSON, M.A

INDEX

“Having repeatedly raised to God prayers of urgent supplication, and hav ing invoked the light of the Spirit of Truth: to the glory of Almighty God, Who has bestowed His signal favours on Mary; in honour of His Son, the Immortal King of the Ages, the Conqueror of sin and death; to the increase of the glory of the same August Mother; and to the joy and exultation of the Whole Church: by the authority of Our Lord Jesus Christ, by that of the Blessed Apostles Peter and Paul, and by Our own Authority, We pronounce, declare and define the dogma to be divinely revealed; that the Immaculate Mother of God, the Ever-Virgin Mary, was, on the completion of her earthly life, assumed body and soul into the glory of Heaven.”

Such was the solemn utterance by which the Vicar of Christ, our Holy Father Pope Pius XII, defined the dogma of the Assumption from his throne in the Piazza of St. Peter’s in Rome, on the Feast of All Saints, 1950. The immense burst of cheering which volleyed across the square, and the golden hymn “Te Deum” which followed were echoed joyfully throughout the Catholic world, from whose hierarchies, clergy, theologians, religious orders and faithful layfolk, a long train of petitions seeking the solemn definition of Our Lady’s glory had flowed to the Holy See for over a century.

But while the faithful rejoiced, voices of criticism, unbelief and perplexity were raised both among Christian dissidents, and from the secular world of “modern thought.” Most of these protests and comments-many of which appeared in the daily press, both here and abroad, serve only to illustrate the prevailing lack of comprehension of the beliefs and practices of the Church, especially in the English-speaking world. The most important objections may be summed up briefly as follows:

(1) Protestant leaders generally declared that the doctrine was nowhere to be found in Scripture, and could not therefore be held to be part of the “Deposit of Faith.” Most of them regarded the belief of the Church as based on legendary stories of comparatively late date, and insisted upon the absence of any clear reference to it in the first five centuries of Christianity.

(2) Others—High Church Anglicans or “Orthodox Eastern” dissidents- believed in the fact of the Assumption, but could not see how it could well be defined as a dogma; one reason being that the “deposit of faith” taught by the Apostles, which is the basis of doctrinal development, was in existence and being taught long before Our Lady died.

(3) One of the commonest attitudes was that of the Archbishops of Canterbury and York, who complained that by creating a pious belief into a compulsory “new dogma for Catholics, the Pope had widened the divisions of the Christian world for no sound reason.

(4) Finally, a number of modernminded humanists pointed out, courteously, that this sort of “challenge” to the modern mind tended to emphasize the remoteness of the Catholic outlook from the realities of our time, and to alienate liberal sympathies just at the moment when “men of goodwill” were disposed to rally to the Church as a bastion of civilized values and the personal dignity of man.

In the past, doctrines were usually defined as the result of a controversy which the Holy See, or a General Council, was called upon to decide. But this doctrine of the Assumption, paradoxically enough, aroused little, either of attack or attention, until the question of its public definition arose. Even at the time of the English Reformation-when the practice of honouring the Mother of God was attacked as Protestant theology developed-the traditional Catholic beliefs about the life and death of Mary were not subjected to any considerable criticism. The Feast of the Assumption-made a public holiday in England in the days of King Alfred-still appears in an Anglican Calendar in a 1562 edition of Cranmer’s Bible: and those for whom that Bible was printed would, one supposes, have been surprised to learn that the doctrine was “alienating” those who accepted the Protestant teaching from the Holy See! Indeed, an article published recently in the Vatican journal “Osservatore Romano” cited a long line of references to the Assumption by Anglican poets and divines- and verses honouring the doctrine can even be discovered in such unexpected quarters as the works of Longfellow and Oliver Wendell Holmes!

THE RESURRECTION OF THE FLESH

I think the best way to enter upon the task of vindicating the definition against these varied objections is to set the doctrine itself forth more clearly against the background of Christian thought about man’s immortality, and then to show how it has developed through a deeper understanding of Mary’s place in the work of Redemption.

The Church believes that the Virgin body of Our Lady was divinely preserved from the natural process of dissolution at her death, just as her Divine Son’s had been: and that it is now lifted up into Heaven-just as the Risen Body of Our Lord’s was at the Ascension-being glorified with her pure soul in the full enjoyment of the Vision of God. To make this teaching more intelligible, let us recall the Church’s teaching on the subject of the “Resurrection of the Body,” which is asserted as a dogma in the eleventh article of the “Apostles Creed.”

Man was created by God as a “composite being” consisting of a body and soul: and the perfection of humanity consists in the rationally ordered harmony of these two essential elements, crowned and made complete by the supernatural life of Grace. In virtue of this “life above nature” our first parents were capable of a higher and holier relationship with God than would have been possible to them through the ordinary endowments of their nature. They were also exempted, by its possession from the natural law of physical death-the separation of the soul from the body, and the return of the latter, by corruption, to the dust. Had they remained obedient, Adam and Eve would have been uplifted, after a period of earthly life, into the glory of the Divine Vision.

This design was frustrated by the “great refusal” of Eden, the disobedience which led to the fall. Thereafter, man became subject to the natural destiny of all animal life as regards his body: it was doomed to perish. The human soul, deprived of grace, had become incapable of entering into the joy of Heaven: and the revolt had introduced war into the very inmost part of human nature, body warring against spirit, spirit torn by conflict in its own powers.

The task undertaken by the Incarnate Son of God, the “Second Adam,” was that of undoing this ruin- not in part, as regards the immortal soul only, but wholly;so that those adhering to this new race” by the new birth of baptism might regain, ultimately, the integrity of glorified human nature. Indeed, for these faithful “elect” Jesus Christ has in store a destiny far more splendid than that forfeited by Adam and Eve. They are to possess the beauty and vitality made manifest, prophetically, in the Transfiguration of Our Lord on Mount Thabor, and to share in the mysterious powers and agility of His Risen Body. “There are bodies that belong to earth,” says St. Paul, “and bodies that belong to Heaven and heavenly bodies have one kind of beauty, earthly bodies another . . . So it is with the resurrection of the dead. What is sown corruptible rises incorruptible, what is sown unhonoured arises in glory, what is sown in weakness is raised in power: what is sown a natural body rises a spiritual body. If there is such a thing as a natural body, there must be a spiritual body, too. Mankind begins with the Adam who became-as Scripture tells us-a living soul: it is fulfilled in the Adam who has become a life giving Spirit.” (1 Cor. XV. 40, 42–45)

This fulfilment awaits all the faithful children of God: but for the general body, the consummation is delayed. They must follow the steps of the Redeemer and embrace His Cross, so that the pattern of His fruitful suffering may be reproduced in the Church, His Mystical Body. And they must submit to death, and the corruption of the flesh which is the due wage of sin, before they can arise to the triumph of the Resurrection at the end of the ages.

WHY THE ASSUMPTION?

Catholics believe-as do Christians generally-that while Our Lord accepted the Passion and death of Calvary for OUR sins, the corruption of the flesh was unable to touch Him. Divine Innocence “Death could not hold him,” as St. Peter says-there was no reason why it should, and it was not fitting that it should. Christ’s appearances after his corporal resurrection showed forth this truth, as well as the Divine Power and Authority of the revelation given by Him to mankind.

From the truths which I have outlined the process of thought which has culminated in the Doctrine of the Assumption is easy enough to follow. Mary, the Virgin of Judah, was predestined in the eternal plan to be the Mother of the Divine Redeemer. The second person of the Trinity was to take human flesh wholly from her body, by the Creative power of the Holy Spirit. This work was accomplished with her full consent: “be it done unto me according to thy word . . .” which undid the effects of the disobedience of Eve. Hence the traditional veneration accorded to Mary by the Church as the “Second Eve,” the supreme human sharer, by voluntary self-offering, in the work of our redemption. She is the Mother, not only of the ChristAdam, the new Head of our race, but of “all the living,” those who become members of Christ in His Mystical Body.

The necessity of reconciling the taintless perfection required in the Mother of the Incarnate God, with the subjection of Mary to the universal law that “salvation comes through Jesus Christ” led to the formulation of the doctrine of the Immaculate Conception. The soul of the Virgin, it was taught, was saved from the least stain of original sin from the very instant of her Conception by the saving Divine power acting by way of prevention, even as her sacred body was held by miracle inviolate, even in the act of child-bearing. From these conclusions the thought of the Church moves with a kind of inevitability to that concerning the assumption of Our Lady’s Body into heaven. For, while it was fitting that the “Second Eve” should share through her mysterious “sword of suffering” in the expiation of the Second Adam, and follow in His footsteps through the Valley of death, it was clearly not fitting that the pure vessel which had borne the Divine Saviour, the flesh which was His Flesh, should undergo the degrading penalty if corruption in the grave. Hence a deep and growing conviction in the Church that the Body of Mary had been lifted incorrupt into Heaven with that of Her Son: “He has taken her to Himself” declares Modestus of Jerusalem, “as He alone knows.”

NOT FOUNDED ON LEGENDS

It is important to understand clearly that the truth of the Assumption, solemnly defined by the present Pope during the Holy Year which has just ended, is thus enshrined in the “deposit of faith” as a conclusion drawn from the Church’s teaching about Our Lord Himself and His relation with His Mother. It has nothing to do with any existing record about what happened at her death, for nothing of the kind exists which is of the least real historical worth. The classical account, set forth in the sixth century by St. Gregory of Tours, is almost certainly a pious legend: it tells of a gathering of the Apostolic band to the death bed of Mary, a vision of Our Lord receiving her soul in the company of Angels, and later, of a second appearance of Jesus, who commands her holy body to be borne on a cloud to Paradise. In later additions, St. Thomas plays a part which is palpably imagined as corresponding with his role in the Gospel account of the Resurrection. No official Church teaching could possibly be founded on a basis of this kind: indeed, even if the historical fact of the Assumption were as fully demonstrated as many wonders in the Church’s history, this would not make the doctrine “definable” if it were not linked with Mary’s position in the Divine plan, so that it is contained, by implication, in the deposit of Faith itself. It is worth noticing, by the way, that even the Gregorian legend and its developments contain no hint of any apparitions of Our Lady like those of Jesus Christ immediately after His Resurrection: and this gives a higher value to the tradition out of which the story has grown.

It is important that the non-Catholic inquirer should realize that in claiming the exceptional privilege of Bodily Assumption for the Mother of Christ we are not exalting her as superhuman, or making her a sort of intermediary “goddess.” She has simply gone before us into a state of glory to which all the faithful are eventually destined: we, too, shall be “assumed” bodily into Heaven at the general resurrection, when the work of death and physical corruption is reversed. It is, in a sense, a violent and unnatural condition that the human soul should be discarnate: for we were not created for an angelic, but for a human immortality. (Mr. C. S. Lewis has suggested cogently that the repugnance commonly felt by living people for bothcorpses’ and”ghosts” reflects our sense that this separation is an anomaly:) Our souls are “set towards” a body-they would always have been linked with a body if God had had His loving way with our race from the first. With Mary He always had His way, from first to last-so that it is difficult to see how her soul could endure discarnate, even for a time, as ours must.

Actually, it does not seem quite certain whether Mary is unique in the privilege of bodily assumption. What of the patriarchs whose bodies-according to St. Matthew-were raised up and appeared in Jerusalem after the Resurrection? What of Enoch and Elias, of whom the Scriptures suggest, at least, that they were rapt bodily into Heaven? It was very commonly believed in ancient times that St. John the Evangelist was body and soul in Paradise: and the same surmise has been piously made concerning St. Joseph, the foster-father of Our Lord, of whom no relics have at any time been claimed to exist.

“IT’S NOT IN THE BIBLE. . . .”

Let us return, now, to the objections against the doctrine made by Protestants of the more old-fashioned school. They still hold to the traditional Reformation doctrine that all the “deposit of Faith” is contained in the Bible-not including certain “deutero-canonical” books which they reject. Its truths are to be drawn from the sacred books by devout souls enlightened by the Holy Spirit. All religious doctrine, therefore, if it is to be acceptable to them, should in theory be justified by reference to the text of Scripture: and where-as in the case of the Immaculate Conception, the Assumption, Purgatory, the Veneration of saints and so forth-they fail to find a Biblical foundation for the Catholic teaching, they reject it out of hand as a corrupt or unfounded “accretion.”

As a description of the belief of the early Church concerning the foundations of the Faith, this is historically inaccurate. The organized Church itself existed long before the books which form our New Testament w e r e assembled. There is no book in the New Testament itself which does not imply that it was written for people already instructed in the truth. This is noticed by the eminent Anglican scholar, Dr. B. J. Kidd, who goes on to say that “the Christian Church might conceiv- ably have gone on for ever without Christian Scripture.” The Gospel was received by the Apostles from the mouth of Jesus Christ, Who left no writings of Hs own at all: and they were promisedthat the Holy Spirit would “guide them into all truth.” Part of this truth was ultimately committed to writing under Divine inspiration, to be added as a new “source book” to the ancient sacred books of the Jews, which contain records of the earlier Divine Revelation and the promise of the Messias. The Church had the charge of these; as the Living Voice of the Holy Spirit, she had to guard, interpret and expound them in the light of the Divine Guidance given to her. But the Bible is not, and never has been, held by orthodox Christian teaching to be the sole source of revealed truth. There was also an oral tradition handed on by the Apostles to their successors, and later partly embodied in the writings of the Fathers and others.

THE DEVELOPMENT OF DOCTRINE

The Scripture itself-constantly meditated upon by saints and sages-was the subject of interpretation under authority according to the rules of a theological science which “developed” its implications and drew new implications from its treasure house of wisdom, not adding to, but deepening in perception ofthe “truth once delivered to the saints.”

Catholics, therefore, believe in a “progressive” revelation- not in the sense that additional truth is given, unrelated to that which Jesus Christ originally imparted to His disciples, but in the sense that aspects of that revealed truth come to be perceived more clearly through persistent contemplation, and cast more light on human life. But if such activity is to be carried on by human minds, it is necessary that the truth should be guarded against distortion through false conclusions, and from eclipse in the confusion of unresolved disagreements. Hence infallibility is required, so that there may be an ordered movement of thought, not an unending muddle. For, while the errors of natural science may be cleared up, eventually, by being tested in the light of mundane experience, this cannot be done, here below, in the case of religious errors: for them, there is no earthly remedy unless the final teaching authority is an effective “organ of truth” guarded against error. That is why, outside Catholicism, a point has now been reached where “Christians” are hardly agreed upon a single point of the Christian revelation.

THE CHURCH AND OUR LADY

Having looked at the process of theological reasoning by which the Church has been guided to formulate and define the dogma of the Assumption, it may be well, now, to examine the historical stages in which this development occurred. As I have already noticed, there is no inspired or historical record of the passing of Our Lady: and while St. John’s Vision of the Woman in the Apocalypse is frequently identified with her in devout meditation, it may be doubted whether its symbolism originally referred to Mary. Similarly, passages of Scripture-both of the Old and New Testaments-are used by the Fathers and others to illustrate Marian theology: but none has been interpreted with authority as affording ground for the teaching concerning her heavenly exaltation.

The truth is that in the first five centuries of Christian history the Virgin Mother remains in comparative shadow -as she does in the New Testament itself. There is no account of her death, as we have seen, or of any visible miracle connected with it: the question of her sinlessness is not raised. Her figure appears only when reference to it is required in order to stress some aspect of Christian doctrine against those who challenge it. Thus, her true Motherhood is insisted upon against the deniers of her Son’s Manhood: her Virginity, in the early creeds, in contradiction to those who might question His Godhead. St. Justin the Martyr (died c. 163) emphasizes Mary’s status as the “second Eve” whose importance I have already shown: and he, with St. Irenaeus and Tertullian, began the process of accentuating her place in the work of redemption. But it was only when Nestorius” attempt to divide “Jesus the Man” from “Christ the God” had been condemned at the Council of Ephesus that the dignity of the Virgin of Nazareth came to be more fully recognized: and as “Theotokos”-Mother of God- she began to assume the Queenship over Catholic Christendom which was to he hers from henceforth.

THE “FALLING ASLEEP” OF MARY

At the end of the fifth century the zeal aroused by the definition of Ephesus led to the utterances of the great Eastern teachers in which we find the embryo of the doctrines of the Immaculate Conception and the Assumption. The liturgical feast of the “Dormition” (falling asleep) of the Virgin begins to be observed generally in the sixth century: and the apocryphal stories connected with the death of Our Lady appear about the same time.

The quotation of a few eminent names may be of interest here. St. Epiphanius (late 4th and 5th century) argued warmly against heretics who denied Our Lady’s perpetual virginity, and uttered the speculative view that it might well be that she had not died at all, but been carried up to Heaven like Elias. This view was seen to be unsound-for reasons which I have already discussed, connected with Mary’s place in the work of redemption. Next we may mention an unknown writer whose works have been discovered among those of St. Augustine, who declares that he “shudders” at the thought “that the most sacred body, from which Christ assumed flesh . . . was given over to worms;” and concludes that it is “outside the possibilities of thought” in view of the privilege of her incomprehensible grace. According to St. John of Damascus, Bishop Juvenal of Jerusalem told St. Pulcheria at the time of the Council of Chalcedon that Mary’s sepulchre was known there, but that an “ancient and trustworthy tradition” existed that she was not there, having ascended into heaven-so that the Apostles, opening the tomb after her death, had found only grave clothes. The East Roman Emperor, Maurice, transferred the feast of the “falling asleep” or “transition” of Our Lady to the present date of the Assumption Feast, August 15, and it was observed on that date at Rome in the reign of St. Gregory the Great.

The “secret” prayer in the Gregorian missal belonging to this period seems to imply in its language a belief in the integral presence of Mary in Heaven.”In accordance with the law of flesh, she has passed hence: yet are we aware that in heavenly glory she is interceding for us with Thee.” For it would be superfluous for the Church to express with such emphasis the mere belief that the Blessed Virgin’s soul was in Heaven, as though this were something extraordinary, instead of the common lot of the holy servants of God. It is worth noticing, too, that in this period, notable for relichunting and the veneration of holy relics-or what were held to be such, often on somewhat flimsy evidence-there is no sign of any appearance of physical relics of the Blessed Virgin, whether true or false, or of any effort to discover such. If they had regarded her sacred body as still on earth, this negligence-contrasting with the passionate interest in the remains of the Apostles, and other saints and martyrs of the heroic age, would be truly extraordinary.

PROGRESS TOWARDS THE DEFINITION

The history of the development of this particular dogma makes it clear that the theological process has nothing to do with the legendary tales about Our Lady current in the sixth century, which no Catholic theologian takes seriously. These are significant merely~ as providing dramatic expression of the current belief about the end of Our Lady’s life-the deep conviction of the faithful that her passing was not like that of others. The liturgies of East and West, however, were purified eventually of these doubtful elements, and attention was concentrated on the glory of Our Lady in Heaven. The Assumption Feast became the occasion for homilies by such great preachers as St. Germanus of Constantinople, St. Andrew of Crete, and, above all, the heroic Eastern Catholic leaders in the Iconoclast controversy, St. John of Damascus, and St. Theodore Studita.

St. John tells his hearers of how “the Immaculate Virgin, defiled by no earth ly passions, nourished by heavenly thoughts, went not back into dust, but, herself a living heaven, was gathered into the heavenly tabernacles.” “For,” he cries, “how could she taste death, from whom the true life flowed for all?” Yet, she bowed to the law laid down by Him to Whom she gave birth, and, as a child of the old Adam, underwent the old judgment-for, indeed, her Son, Who is the very Life, did not refuse it. Now, as the Mother of the Living Cod, she is fitly carried up to Him. Eve, who yielded to the serpent’s tempting, was condemned to pain in child-bearing, received sentence of death, and was gathered into the inner chamber of the lower regions (i.e., Limbo). But that truly blessed one, ever attentive to God’s Word, and filled with the operation of the Holy Spirit, conceived her Son without passion or human intercourse, at the spirit message of an Archangel, brought Him forth with no pain and consecrated herself utterly to God. How, then, was it possible for death to engulf her or the lower regions to receive her? How could corruption invade that body in which the Life was conceived? An even, straight, swift path to Heaven is prepared for her: for if Christ, the Truth and the Life, said “where I am, there will My servant be,” how much more will His Mother be with Him?

We see, here, summed up and rhetorically presented, the purely theological argument for the assumption which I have already set forth.

The Roman Church discouraged Assumption “Apocrypha” with its characteristic sobriety: and this even led some Western theologians to throw doubt, for a time, on the doctrine itself-especially as the West had come to be largely out of touch with Catholic developments in the Byzantine East. From the tenth century on, however, the position became clear in all its essentials, and the irrelevance of pseudo-historical detail was apparent. Thereafter, the doctrine of the Assumption was recognized, first as “a pious and religious belief,” then as “certain” and not to be denied without rashness; and so we pass to the modern age, when two hundred Bishops at the Vatican Council in 1870 requested that it might be made the subject of a dogmatic definition. Since then, the sense of the Church has endorsed their desire with increasing urgency, while the judgment of the Catholic episcopate was practically unanimous before the pronouncement of Pope Pius XII asserted the Assumption as a dogma of faith, in virtue of the teaching authority conferred upon him as the successor of St. Peter.

THE BULL “MUNIFICENTISSIMUS DEUS”

In the Bull, Munificentissimus Dews, announcing and explaining the definition to the Christian world, it is important to notice the theological method employed by the Pope in treating of the doctrine. He starts, not by considering the Faith of the early Church, but that of our own times-especially that of the last century, since the definition of the Immaculate Conception. By this approach, he impresses upon us the truth that the Living Voice of the Church teaches God’s truth with the same infallible authority today as at any time in the past, and it is to this Voice that all the faithful must listen, if they would learn it. It is not, therefore, in the beliefs of the early centuries-frequently implicit or only half-formulated- that we must look for enlightenment concerning the Church’s present doctrine: on the contrary, it is the teaching of today which shows what has always been contained in the “Deposit of Faith.” The position is explained in the Encyclical, Humani Generis, which appeared only a short time before the Bull. Theologians, the Holy Father explains, must constantly have recourse to the fountains of Divine Revelation, so as to show how and where the teaching of the Living Voice is found there, explicitly or implicitly. But this does not make theology simply one of the historical sciences. “Side by side with these hallowed sources, God has given His Church a living Voice; thus He would make clear to us, unravel for us, even what was left obscure in the deposit of Faith, and only present there implicitly.” The task of interpretation has not been entrusted to individuals- even theologians: this is the Church’s teaching, which must be decisive.

In the Bull, reference is made to the practical unanimity of the Catholic episcopate and faithful in holding the body Assumption of the Virgin to be definable-and this alone, it is declared, puts beyond question the fact of the Assumption as revealed by God, when it is considered that it is beyond human experience, so that it could not otherwise be known. It is only after this that the history of the doctrine in the Church is surveyed-in relation to the interpretation of Scripture, the liturgical tradition of East and West and the elucidations of the great Eastern Fathers, scholastics and later Catholic theologians.

THE MIND OF THE CHURCH UNANIMOUS

An accurate and clear picture of the Church’s mind on the Assumption doctrine during the past century has been preserved in a collection of the Petitions sent to the Papacy for its definition during the period between 1849 and 1940, published in two volumes by Fr. Rudolf de Moos, S.J., who has gathered them out of the archives with the collaboration of his colleagues. Spontaneous requests from the Hierarchyare 2,505 in number, from 73 per cent of the Church’s episcopal sees: and to them must be added those from Vicars Apostolic Abbots and Prelates, Superiors of religious orders, theological faculties and Seminaries. They come from a long series of National, Provincial, diocesan and regional councils, as well as from Marian Congresses and similar gatherings. When these volumes were published in 1945, the “Assumptionist Movement” revived with new vigour- a veritable tide of enthusiasm being shown in petitions from Bishops, religious superiors, theologians, clergy and the faithful at large. The Episcopates of entire nations and regions all over the world were now demanding the definition, as well as the pontifical and Catholic Universities: the orders and congregations were virtually unanimous. Hundreds of books, theses and articles concluded in its favour. Of especial interest are the figures for the Eastern “Uniate” Churches which preserve the ancient Catholic traditions of Eastern Christendom. When the final inquiries were made by the Holy See, fifty-three of fifty-four replies from the Hierarchies of these Churches were favourable. In 1946, finally the Catholic Hierarchy of England and Wales were unanimous in requesting the definition as opportune. Only six residential bishops in all the world, at the final stage, had doubts about whether the doctrine was part of Divine Revelation.

AN ANGLICAN CRITICISM ANSWERED

Certain eminent Anglican critics appear to regard it as fatal to the credibility of the Assumption doctrine that it cannot be confirmed by historical and archaeological research, any more than by scripture. But why on earth should it be susceptible of establishment in this way? That the Risen Body of Christ should reappear was necessary to the fulfilment of this mission, as a vindication of the Truth of His doctrine by His victory over death. There was no such need, however, of any such immediate manifestation on Mary’s part. There was no need that her glorified body should be seen, or even be “see- able” to earthly eyes, and it is in keeping with all that we know of her life that the glory of her passing, like the glory of the Annunciation, should be hidden from all except the rejoicing angels and saints. For the rest, the attitude of these Anglicans is surely strange, if they believe at all in a “Church” guided by the Spirit of God. For it implies the conclusion that all the “branches” of the Church which they recognize, both in East and West, whether in communion with the Holy See or not, were permitted by the Holy Ghost to remain in error, and to establish solemn feasts and devotions in honour of a false belief during at least eight hundred years, even if we accept no evidence for belief in the Assumption earlier than the age of St. John of Damascus (Eighth century).

Again, those who adhere to the theory of Anglican “continuity” with the Catho lic Church of old England may fittingly be reminded of the attitude of that Church to the doctrine of the Assumption-of which very ample and conclusive historic evidence exists.

HE ASSUMPTION IN ENGLISH CATHOLIC TRADITION

I have already mentioned that the Feast of the Assumption was declared a public holiday under King Alfred, but the story of the feast in Britain begins a long time before the close of the ninth century, when he was reigning. As early as 690-less than a hundred years after the first landing of St. Augustine-St. Aldhelm, Bishop of Sherborne, writes of the feast as being kept in his time, in honour of our Lady’s heavenly birthday. By the eleventh century-the era of~ the Conquest-the Least was well-established, as well as that of the Immaculate Conception, which was vindicated by Osbert of Clare; the biographer of St. Edward the Confessor. The Conqueror’s Primate, Archbishop Lanfranc, made the Assumption the principal feast of Our Lady in his calendar-and so it remained for all Englishmen while England was still Catholic.

It was kept on August 15 as a high holiday, with Church processions, sports and feasting in towns and villages throughout the country. Nor were the poor forgotten in the celebrations: thus, in 1254 the Bishop of Norwich bequeathed money to his nephew to be used to feed a hundred poor people each year on this feast day as long as he lived. “Our Lady of the Assumption” was adopted as patron by many city guilds, and was a frequent subject of representations in Churches. Many of these were destroyed during the Reformation and Civil War-especially those in stained glass-but one example survives in a stone-carving over the entrance to the Choir in York Cathedral-only a few yards from the official throne of the present Anglican Archbishop, Dr. Garbett, who has come out in protest against the papal definition! Among churches dedicated to “Maria Assumpta” we may notice Salisbury Cathedral, consecrated in 1258, in. the reign of King Henry III; Aylesford Church, once a Carmelite mother house; and Eton College, styled by King Henry VI: “Our Royal College of the Blessed Mary of Eton, founded by us in honour of the Assumption of the said Most Blessed Mary.” The ancient seal of the College showed Our Lady being uplifted by angels and crowned-and the same theme is presented in a sculpture over the Eastern gate of the College quadrangle which has recently been restored. Norwich Cathedral has an Assumption Chapel, and there are carved bosses of the Assumption in Abbey Dore, North Elmham, and Old St. Helens-to mention only a few. Paintings of the subject have also been discovered, though not many have survived the storms of the Reformation era. It seems very probable that the “Tree of Jesse” at Dorchester, Abbey was originally completed by a stained glass Assumption which has now been destroyed. Indeed, wherever mediaeval painted glass survives, we find fragments of Assumptions and Coronations-and two are represented in Roodscreens in Devonshire churches, dated in the 15th century.

It was not without reason that the England of that time was named “Our Lady’s Dowry,” and in protesting against the definition asserting her heavenly honours, the Anglican Archbishops of 1950 have only emphasized the discontinuity of their religion with the “Ecclesia Anglicana” of the thousand years between St. Augustine and Cardinal Pole, the last Catholic Primate.

THE REAL OBSTACLE TO REUNION

I have now shown that the Assumption definition of last year represents a. belief which has for ages been universal among Catholics as part of their heritage of Faith, and which was held by the English Christians as strongly as any others at the time when Western Christendom was undivided. It may be seen, then, that it is quite unrealistic to speak of the definition as though it had introduced a novelty “increasing the dogmatic differences in Christendom” in our own time. There is, to be sure, a certain poignancy, as well as paradox, in the fact that the heirs of the Reformation which tore Britain and the North away from Catholic unity should now be imploring the Holy See not to worsen the appalling rent their ancestors made.

So far as reunion is concerned, however, the mere non-definition of a particular doctrine has no meaning one way or the other. If these Anglicans-including those who claim to be “Anglo-Catholics”-believed in Catholic doctrines in a Catholic way: that is, as the teachings of a competent, Divinely-guided spiritual authority to which they owed obedience, they would accept all the formal definitions of our Church-including those concerning the Papacy, which involve condemnation of the schism they have inherited. But since they do not become “Roman Catholics,” it is obvious that they do not believe in this fashion: and, that being the case, the question of the Assumption cannot make any difference at all. There is no use in talking about “Christian reunion” today as though our Church and other Churches were component parts of a single “Church” which was once universal and is now temporarily disrupted pending the discovery of terms of reconciliation. The Catholic view upon this subject is stated bluntly in the recent Papal Encyclical “Humani Generis,” “The Mystical Body of Christ and the Catholic Church in Communion with Rome are one and the same thing.”

It cannot, therefore, be “reunited” with any other Christian community in the sense they imagine. What can happen-and, we pray, may happen one day-is that other Christian groups, as well as individuals, may be given the grace to recognize the Mystical Body of Christ for what it is and become grafted into it by accepting its principle of authority in matters of Faith, and the laws by which it lives. It must be added-though with regret-that this talk of the “sharpening of differences” seems even less impressive when it is considered that certain Anglican modernists are able to remain in full communion with their Church and even to hold high office in it, while openly giving exposition of religious beliefs which are farther from traditional Christianity than those of orthodox Moslems, and of moral ideas which contravene the whole Christian concept of man’s nature and destiny.

The accent placed by our Christian dissident critics on divergence upon the Assumption serves, in fact, to give a quite false impression that the real distinctions between Catholic and non-Catholic are not very important, if only certain odds and ends of popular devotion could be left as “open questions” upon which people might believe as they liked. There is yet another matter upon which they entertain strange delusions, if we may judge by the trembling of the English “Church Times” about the possibility of the “secession of important individuals and groups as a result of the definition. As I have shown, the consensus of Catholic belief is universal: the crucial question which has been discussed recently among theologians was whether the Assumption could be defined, not whether the belief itself was true: and upon this they have long been in all but complete agreement. It seems inconceivable that any individual or group generally convinced of the truth of the Catholic Church and her teaching should find any difficulty in accepting the Papal degree of definition-and, in fact, no such difficulty has arisen anywhere.

THE MODERN MIND AND THE SUPERNATURAL

As for the modern world, its fundamental difficulty is not concerned with accepting this or that dogma as reasonable or historical but in the acceptance of the whole basic Christian idea of a supernatural order, revealed to man by a Divine Messenger. In comparison with the tremendous miracle of the Incarnation and the Resurrection-that the Eternal God assumed the nature of Man, was born of a woman, lived and died on this planet and rose again alive out of the grave-the raising of His Mother’s body to Paradise becomes a small thing to accept. It is not the last definition of the Church, in fact, which is in question, but the opening phrases of the Creed-the affirmation of God’s creative power over nature, and His loving condescension to our human race. It is this which we have to restore to the world of our time, along with the hope of immortal, joyous life for man, resting on Christ’s victory over death, with which the triumph of Mary is intimately linked.

The attitude of the “modern mind” to religion in general and Catholicism in particular is very well expressed in some of the puzzled protests of friendly liberal humanists in the matter of the recent definition. For these people, the Church’s really vital function in the world of today is to provide a sort of strong central bastion of the “common front” of Christians and freedom-loving humanists against Marxist totalitarianism: and they expect her to show herself accommodating towards the dissidence and doubt in the ranks of her “fellow travellers.” it is not a question-they seem to say politely-of asking you to compromise on any of your beliefs and traditions. We simply beg you to consider other people’s feelings, and not to emphasise the aspects of Catholicism which the modern world finds fantastic or “challenging” lest the spirit of goodwill be weakened.

WHAT THE CHURCH IS FOR

This argument would be a strong one if the Church were, in fact, a “political” organization concerned primarily with the defence of civilized life and humane social values. But the question whether the definition of the Assumption is opportune” or not may be answered by saying that it is opportune precisely because the Church is not such an organization, and that this act serves to remind worldly-minded Christians and humanists of that great truth. The fact that Catholics have been “bearing the brunt” in the fight against atheistic Communism, both in East Europe and in the Asiatic mission field, does not mean that this temporal crisis-grave as it is-is the main preoccupation of the Church, as the Communists themselves suppose. No-the mind of the Church is directed not on the temporal but the spiritual plane: she is concerned with the natural order only because it is related to the supernatural order and man’s eternal destiny therein.

She is not, therefore, prepared to set aside her Divinely-given task of developing the Truths of Faith because the tide of persecution and peril is rising: she is not prepared to teach the truth about Our Lady, the Queen of Heaven, in subdued tones, for fear that by speaking out loud and clear, she may upset people who are thereby reminded that all their proCatholic sympathies and attitudes leave them still very far from the Faith.

THE SIGN OF CONTRADICTION

The fact is that the Church stands for a form of authoritative discipline “of the mind which the modern humanist finds highly repugnant. She makes a unique claim to teach the truth, by Divine Authority, about an order of reality-the spiritual-whose very existence is denied by many, while still more hold that little or nothing can be known certainly about it: and she insists that a clear knowledge of this “higher reality” is of supreme importance to mankind. No good can be served by encouraging the illusion that this “sign of contradiction” does not still stand between Catholics and those outside the Visible Church, which is the Fold of “Christ. If Western civilization is saved, it will not be by an alliance based On false pretences about the depth of its divisions: and-as we see it-it is even more necessary that Christ’s Truth should be fearlessly proclaimed than that civilization should be saved. The alienation of men from Mary-and so from her Son-has brought about the spiritual decay which is at the root of our “winter of discontent:” so that both our social restoration and spiritual health depend upon the strengthening of devotion to Our Mother in Heaven, as well as to Christ the King Whose glory is inseparable from hers.

The Pope himself, in one of his recent messages, has answered those who accuse him of flinging an untimely challenge in, the face of the spirit of the age, and of alienating humanist friends of the Church.

Speaking of those who teach the Faith, he says, “Never let them be led away by the false spirit of appeasement: let them not think that disloyal and erring souls can be brought back, with happy result, into the Church’s bosom, unless the whole truth,as it finds currency in the Church, is honestly preached to all, without disfigurement, without diminution.”

THE PRAYER OF ST. THEODORE

So much, then, for the defence of the cause of Our Lady’s Assumption against Christian dissidents and modern secular critics. It remains for me to end this essay, fittingly, with the words of one of the greatest of the champions of Mary among the Eastern Fathers, the glorious St. Theodore Studita.

“And now thou, who, passing beyond the clouds, enterest heaven and the Holy of Holier amid songs of triumph and joy, deign, O Mother of God, to bless the whole world. Give peace to the Church and victory to the Truth! Protect our homes against all enemies! Be propitious to all Christian people and pardon my rashness, that I have dared to speak of thee!”

Nihil obstat:

W. M. COLLINS, Censor Deputatus.

Imprimatur:

@ D. MANNIX,

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis.

********

The Baptists

BY REV. DR. L. RUMBLE, M.S.C

INDEX

The Baptists constitute probably the largest of all the Protestant denominations in U.S.A. On a world-basis in 1954 they number almost 13,000,000, of whom over 10,000,000 are to be found in the United States of America. Apart from all else, therefore, their numerical importance makes them deserving of attention. What is it, in the Baptist presentation of Christianity, which wins the allegiance of so many millions of people? On the other hand, one is compelled to ask what it includes or omits, that the rest of the 685,000,000 of professing Christians (in 1954) in the world should reject it? They are these questions which have prompted the writing of this booklet, devoted to an impartial study of the history and teachings of the Baptist Churches.

1. ORIGIN AND DEVELOPMENT

Baptists owe their name to their teaching that Christian baptism may be received by adult believers only, as a symbol of their personal relationship to Christ; and that it must be administered by immersion only.

Their origin as a separate denomination dates from the early 17th century. Some have tried to maintain their continuity through all the centuries from the time of St. John the Baptist, whom they declare to have baptized by immersion. But, historically, the earliest known Baptists had no idea of imposing baptism by immersion. They rejected infant baptism, but in baptizing adult believers, they did so by pouring water upon the head in accordance with the hitherto accepted custom. Baptism by immersion was first prescribed in 1644, over thirty years after the movement began.

Better informed writers make no claim to the continuous corporate existence of their Church through the ages, but say that their main beliefs and practices never lacked representation amongst the pre-Reformation sects which separated from Rome; and that their principles at least are derived from the New Testament and from the first-century Christians. But that is a theory dependent for its value upon historical evidence, evidence which others deny to exist.

Turning to actual history, shortly after Martin Luther began the Protestant reformation in Germany, in 1517, there arose a leader named Thomas Munzer, who felt that Luther had not gone nearly far enough in his repudiation of the old religion. In 1525 Munzer sought to establish what he regarded as a spiritual kingdom of converted souls, independent of all authority, ecclesiastical or civil. With Luther he taught that the Bible is man’s only guide to religious truth, and that men are justified by faith alone. But he went further than Luther by declaring that all people who had been baptized as infants were not validly baptized at all; and that they must be converted again to God, and be re-baptized as adults. The name Anabaptists, which signifies re-baptizers, was given to them because of this practice. But the wild and destructive fanaticism which characterized many of these Anabaptists brought them into disrepute, and modern Baptists disclaim any connection with them. The Baptist doctrine of believer’s baptism, however, and their insistence on ecclesiastical and civil independence, are undoubtedly due to a great extent to the influence of the Anabaptists.

The actual founder of the Baptists must be regarded as John Smyth. John Smyth was an Anglican clergyman who, together with his flock, refused to conform to the established Church of England. In 1602 he and his followers fled from England to Amsterdam, in Holland. There, influenced by the Anabaptists, he rejected infant baptism, and in 1609 he re-baptized himself by pouring water over his own head. At no time did he believe immersion to be necessary. He did have doubts, however, about the validity of re-baptism administered by himself, and was later baptized again by the Dutch Mennonites; though, once more, not by immersion.

In 1611, with a companion named Thomas Helwys, he drew up a declaration of faith insisting on the Bible as the only authority in religion, on justification by faith, on adult believers as the only lawful subjects of baptism, and laying particular stress on complete separation between Church and State. He declared that civil authorities are obliged to abstract from religion altogether, and to confine themselves to temporal affairs only, leaving subjects absolutely free to adopt and practise any religion, or none, as they pleased. He seemed to apprehend no danger that political rulers, told to leave religion alone, would soon tell religion to leave them alone, acknowledging no obligation of religion or of its principles in their legislation, the way being left open for the irreligious, and even the anti-religious State!

In the following year, 1612, John Smyth died in Holland. Thomas Helwys, with a number of the exiled English separatists, then returned to England and set up the first Baptist Church at Spitalfields, in London. Thomas Helwys himself died in 1616.

The Baptists founded by Smyth and Helwys were known as “General Baptists” because they repudiated Calvin’s doctrine of the predestination of the elect only, holding that Christ died for all human beings in general. They insisted that every individual is truly responsible for his decision to accept or reject salvation. About 1650, over thirty years after the death of Helwys, the General Baptists began to teach that baptism by immersion is the only valid form. This doctrine they adopted from the “Particular Baptists,”-of whom we shall see more in a moment.

In the 18th century many of the General Baptists drifted from their belief in the Divinity of Christ, and became practically Unitarians. But in 1770, those who remained orthodox on this subject formed a separate association called the “New Connection,” thus continuing the original Baptist Church.

Quite independent of the origin of the General Baptists was that of the Particular Baptists. These were first organized at Southwark, England, in 1633, under John Spillsbury, who had separated from the Independents, the forerunners of the Congregationalists, taking with him their strict Calvinistic doctrine of predestination. Far from believing that Christ died for all men, he held that Christ died for the elect and for no others. Hence the name of “Particular Baptists,” as opposed to “General Baptists.” In 1644 the Particular Baptists added to their doctrine of believer’s baptism the declaration that its only valid form is by immersion; a decision adopted, as we have seen, by the General Baptists in 1650.

At first, owing to their Calvinism, the Particular Baptists were very exclusive. But the influence of the Wesleyan revival brought milder views, and in many of their churches they began to admit even the non-baptized, provided they professed faith in Christ, to membership and communion. They became more moderate, too, in their attitude towards missionary activity. At first all missionary activity was condemned. They felt that it was their duty to wait until those missionary activity. At first all missionary activity was condemned. They felt that it was their duty to wait until those 1834); and, in 1816, the General Baptists followed suit with their own Missionary Society.

The Baptists in England continued for years divided into two sections, General and Particular; but, in 1891, they united to form the Baptist Union of Great Britain and Ireland. Many individual congregations, however, held aloof from the Union; and, to this day, there are many separate groups of Baptists in isolated congregations.

In the United States of America the Baptist Churches owe their origin to Roger Williams (1600–1683). They have no strictly historical connection with the Baptist Movement in England; for, although Roger Williams came from England, he did not come as a Baptist. In England, he had been ordained as an Anglican clergyman, but decided to break with the State Church, and become an Independent. He fled to America to safeguard his liberty; and there he came to the conclusion that the Church can consist only of regenerate members. In 1639 he repudiated the baptism he had received as an infant, and a layman named Holliman re-baptized him by immersion at Providence. Then he, in turn, re-baptized Holliman and others. Thus Roger Williams established the first Baptist Church in America. But very soon afterwards he withdrew from the Church he had founded, gave up belief in baptism altogether, and had no more to do with any organized Christian bodies.

The Baptist Church has manifested phenomenal growth in the United States, numbering today in 1954 over 10,000,000 adherents. But these adherents are very divided amongst themselves. Organically they are grouped in three major Conventions, Northern, Southern, and Coloured; and there are hosts of independent Baptist sects, such as Seventh Day Baptists, Dunkards or German Baptists, Free-will Baptists, Primitive Baptists, Six-Principle Baptists, Separate Baptists, United Baptists, Baptist Church of Christ, and many others. But, in general, all agree in rejecting infant baptism, restricting the rite to adult believers alone; and in demanding baptism by immersion only.

2. THE BAPTIST CREED

In turning to a study of the religious beliefs of Baptists, it should be noted from the outset that their Creed is practically that there should be no Creed at all; or, at least, no Creed anyone is bound in conscience to adopt. They have resisted every effort of those members who have wanted to secure the acceptance of an authoritative statement of doctrine to be imposed upon the Churches. They declare that, whilst the ancient Creeds are to be respected, they are to be regarded merely as declarations of views prevalent at the time they were drawn up, but in no way as being of obligation. And no subscription to any dogmatic statements is necessary for ordination to the Baptist ministry. They insist that the test of one’s Christianity is rather quality of life than any fixed system of doctrine.

At the same time, they could not altogether escape the necessity, of stating their doctrinal position. Thus, in 1688, they issued the “Philadelphia Confession.” This was a revision of the “Westminster Confession” of 1642, when the Presbyterian party in the Church of England revised the “Thirty-Nine Articles of Religion” in a Calvinistic direction. In 1833, the less Calvinistic “New Hampshire Confession” was issued; and many other sectional “Confessions of Faith” have been published.

But Baptists insist that all such statements of belief are merely expositions of generally accepted doctrine, that all are subject to revision by appeal, to the Bible; and that each reader of the Bible is competent to form for himself his own ideas of the truth. They do not seem to be disturbed by the thought that, if two individual Baptists arrive at diametrically opposed conclusions, it is impossible for both of them to have arrived at the truth! For them, subjective individualism comes before all the laws of objective logic.

3. THE BIBLE ONLY

Despite, however, their rejection of any binding Creed, there are some doctrinal statements which they regard as absolutely essential. They certainly demand the admission of the basic Protestant dogma that the Bible, and the Bible alone, contains “all things necessary to salvation, so that whatsoever is not read therein, nor may be proved thereby, is not to he required of any man, that it should be believed as an article of the Faith, or be thought requisite or necessary to salvation.”

Baptists believe the Bible to be the infallible and authoritative guide for the whole of life. To each individual reader it speaks for itself. There is no need of Church or scholar to explain its meaning; and there is no generally recognized interpretation of the text to which one must adjust his conclusions.

More and more Protestants, however, even including many Baptists, are beginning to doubt the value of the Bibleonly principle. In his recent book, “The Bible Today,” Prof. C. H. Dodd, of Cambridge, writes that the Protestant reformers “in placing the Bible at the disposal of the uninstructed took a fateful step. It could now be read, and was widely read “without note or comment,” without the guidance that had been supplied by tradition. To allow and encourage this was inevitably to admit the right of private judgement in interpreting it. . . . But the claim that the Bible could be read just as it stood, without the guidance of tradition, exposed it to the dangers of a chaotic individualism. . . . The demand for unqualifiedfreedom of interpretation opened the way to limitless aberrations.” (pp. 21–22.) Prof. H. Wheeler Robinson, himself a Baptist, writes in his book, “The Bible in Its Ancient and English Versions,” p. 294, “The Protestant appeal to the Bible is liable to the charge of subjectivity; it is, in fact, open to abuse by any man who would read his own vagaries into the interpretation of the Bible. The Bible has undoubtedly suffered greatly in that way, and the mere claim to be guided by the Spirit of God proves nothing.” Prof. Wheeler Robinson’s solution of the problem is that, whilst the Bible is a guide to religious knowledge, our interpretation of the Bible must itself be subject to the guidance of the traditions of the Church. Ever the move of those who wish to defend the truth of the Christian religion is back towards the Catholic position too hastily forsaken and denounced by the earliest Protestant reformers.

4. THE BAPTISMAL RITE

A second doctrine to which Baptists originally demanded adherence even to the point of separation from all other Christian groups was their distinctive teaching about the rite o£ Baptism. The founders of the movement declared that only, those could be regarded as genuine Christians who had beep baptized as adults, after having experienced an interior conversion, and having professed their personal faith in Christ. Later on, as we have seen, they repudiated the administration of baptism by pouring water upon the head of the aspirant, and insisted that the only valid form is by the complete immersion of the whole person.

Difficulties at once arise, however, when we ask just what significance Baptists attach to the rite of Baptism. Despite the words of Christ, “Amen, amen, I say to you, unless a man be born again of water and the Holy Ghost, he cannot enter into the kingdom of God” (Jn., 3, 5), they deny that any rebirth is effected by the actual rite of baptism. The “Ordinance of Baptism,” as Baptists prefer to call it rather than the “Sacrament of Baptism,” is but a symbol of a regeneration of soul that has already taken place. The rite itself, therefore, is quite secondary. Personal experience of conversion, and of having received the grace of Christ, constitutes members of the Christian Church. Baptism is but a visible and external sign that one has already become a member of the invisible and spiritual Church of Christ. The aim is a Church of “converted souls,” a Church consisting of saints.

But all this leaves room for doubt as to whether baptism is a necessary rite at all! If one has already become a member of the Church by personal experience of conversion to the Faith, why should anything further be required? If it be said that those who have become members of the invisible Church of Christ must receive the visible rite of baptism to become members of the visible Church, difficulty arises from the fact that most Baptists do not believe in any visible Church of Christ.

Many Baptist Churches, under the influence of such considerations, content themselves with teaching the value and privilege of baptism, leaving to the individual conscience the decision as to whether it be actually received or not. They are prepared to welcome to some kind of restricted membership all evangelical Christians who profess loyalty to Christ, even at times admitting the unbaptized to participation in the communion of the Lord’s Supper. Strict Baptists, however, still insist on baptism by immersion as a condition of membership of the Church, and as a qualification for admission to the communion.

5. ATTITUDE TOWARDS INFANTS

The doctrine that the rite of baptism does not cause, but presupposes regeneration, logically results in the rejection of infant baptism. If the Church is a spiritual society of saints, consisting only of those who have experienced conversion and are justified by faith in Christ-an experience symbolized by subsequent baptism-then infants who have not attained to the age of reason neither belong to the Church, nor can be baptized.

Baptists, therefore, reject as sheer “magic” the idea that the Ordinance of Baptism could effect any change in a child unable to make any personal act of faith in Christ: They sanction the dedication of such infants to God as a sign that the Church recognizes God’s claims upon them; but the children do not thereby become members of the Church.

What, then, becomes of infants who die unbaptized? Baptists hold that all children who die before attaining to the age of responsibility will be saved. In his book, “Christian Reunion,” p. 10, Hugh Martin, a prominent Baptist Minister, says, “The refusal of Baptists to baptize infants was, of course, never due to any lack of belief in God’s love for them, or to any failure to recognize the duty of the Church to train them in Christian life and faith; rather indeed the contrary. They held that no rite was necessary to make an infant a child of God.”

Such teaching obviously denies either any supernatural order of grace at all, or the fall of the human race and the birth of every child of Adam in a state of original or inherited sin. It also denies the necessity of the Church established by Christ, and of the Sacraments instituted by Him, as means of salvation, since such infants can be saved without becoming members of the Church either by personal faith and conversion, or by the reception of any Sacrament.

The insistent repudiation of infant baptism creates an unbridgeable gap between the Baptist and other Churches. Hugh Martin himself, in the book just quoted, declares that he could agree to reunion with others, only provided he did not have to give up his belief that infants have no need of baptism, and that they should not receive it. But he would agree to the continuance of infant baptism in other Churches on the understanding that it would have the value only of prayer for the infants so baptized. But that would reduce the Sacrament of Baptism to the level of the antibaptismal dedication service of the Baptists themselves, and presumably require the repetition of baptism when the child attained to the age of responsibility! As valid baptism, even according to the Baptists, cannot be twice received, the infant baptism Hugh Martin would sanction in other Churches would be of its very nature an invalid rite!

No solution of the problem is possible by compromise. Baptists must ask themselves whether they have not been mistaken in rejecting the doctrine of baptismal regeneration and the practice of admitting infants to the sacramental rite, a doctrine and practice sanctioned by Christian usage through all the centuries, and accepted by the overwhelming majority of Christians today, as in every previous age.

6. IDEA OF THE CHURCH

(A) But a still more vital element in the Baptist position concerns the doctrine of the Church itself, and the nature of its composition.

Luther in Germany, Calvin in Switzerland, and Anglicans in England, had all wanted to retain a single, visible, organized Church. They declared that they wanted a “Church-Reformed,” though they disagreed as to the way in which it should be reformed. In reality, of course, they abandoned the ancient Church, and set up new Protestant organizations; but their Churches were intended to be single organized institutions, each claiming to be the true and reformed Church, Lutheran, Presbyterian, or Anglican, as the case may be.

But others arose, called Independents, who declared the hitherto existent Church to be beyond reformation, and that the only thing for the “Lord’s People” to do was to abandon it altogether, and form themselves as best they could into groups or congregations, to which only the worthy might belong. This principle of the Independents was adopted by the Baptists.

The whole Catholic idea of the Church as a single, united, and visible society, therefore, was rejected by them. For the Baptist, the Church is a voluntary association of converted men and women, composed of believers only. Baptism, as we have seen, is of only incidental importance. The essential thing is the faith and the conversion experienced by the adult, not his baptism.

(B) Moreover, the principle of the Bible only as the rule of faith, with the absolute liberty of each individual reader to interpret it for himself, led to Protestantism in its most extreme and individualistic form. There could be no such thing as Church authority. As each Baptist was a law to himself, so each voluntary group of Baptists was independent of the others, able to make its own regulations, and choose its own ministers. “Church,” for a Baptist, means only a local congregation; so that, in reality, there is no “Baptist Church;” but only “Baptist Churches.” It is significant that Roger Williams, the founder of the Baptist movement in America, ended by severing his connection with all institutional religion, even with Baptist congregationalism!

Whilst Baptists, however, belong to independent Congregations, they have found it necessary for practical purposes to form Conventions within certain geographical limits, State and National. And they now have General Superintendents to supervise the supply of ministers, the educational, charitable, and missionary work of the Churches, and the administration of general funds. Such federation of Baptist Churches is at least an initial step on the return journey to the idea of authority in a united Church organization, and away from the separatism of distinct and independent congregations subject to no legislation but that of each one’s own making.

7. MINISTRY AND WORSHIP

From all that has gone before, it scarcely needs to be said that Baptists reject everything savouring of an ecclesiastical hierarchy and a sacrificial priesthood. Any idea of a Sacrament of Holy Orders conferring special powers transmitted in the Church by continuous succession from the Apostles is utterly foreign to them. They accept implicitly the Protestant principle that each soul has direct access to God, without the need of any intermediaries. Officers in their Churches, as leaders in prayer and for the preaching of the Word, are chosen by majority vote in each congregation, and ordained by councils of ministers and representatives of neighbouring Churches. Such “ordination” is the authorizing or commissioning of a layman to function in the name of all; and it creates no real difference between the one so ordained and others in the congregation.

The forms of worship in Baptist Churches are much the same as with Methodists and Congregationalists. The pulpit is of supreme importance, for the ministry of preaching. The normal service consists of the reading of Scripture, extempore prayers by the minister, hymns, sermon, and blessing. Two sacramental Ordinances are acknowledged, that of baptism, and that of the Lord’s Supper. The latter is celebrated usually once a month, but at times more often. As with Baptism, so the Communion is not productive of grace, but only the symbol of it. The words of consecration are not believed to effect any change in the elements. Baptists do not believe that there is any “Real Presence of Christ under the outward appearances of bread and wine” after the consecration, as the Catholic Church teaches.

But the rite of the Lord’s Supper amongst the Baptists is not regarded as being one merely of commemoration. “How can we have a mere memorial of One who is still alive, still our life, still present with us, and acting in us?,” writes P. T. Forsyth, in his book, “The Church and the Sacraments.” Baptists believe that special significance for all time was given to the last meal of Jesus with the Apostles; and that, although the bread and wine remain but bread and wine, and are only tokens or symbols of the Lord’s body and blood, the commemorative rite carries with it a moral and spiritual significance, awakening amongst the participants a mystical sense of fellowship with Christ and with one another, proportionately to their degree of faith. But whilst they believe that the Lord is spiritually present to them in an altogether special way during the celebration of the eucharistic rite of the Last Supper, they do not believe, as Catholics do, that He intended to leave to His Church His actual Presence in the Eucharist itself.

8. CHURCH AND STATE

One further very definite aspect of Baptist belief calls for attention. No body of professing Christians is more insistent than the Baptists on the absolute separation of Church and State. Each must be completely independent of the other. Secular authority can have nothing whatever to do with religion, and it is the height of absurdity to talk of a State Church.

The history of the Baptists gives a clue to the reasons for their rigid opposition to any connection between Church and State. Their founder in England, John Smyth, and their founder in America, Roger Williams, had both been Anglican clergymen. Both had revolted against the State-dominated Church of England, the former escaping to Holland, the latter to America. Neither wanted ever again to see a State-controlled religion, or a Church-controlled State. They identified the State-controlled religion with Anglicanism, and the Church-controlled State with Catholicism.

But the identification of Church and State, as they imagined it, is a purely Protestant, and never was a Catholic idea. Catholic teaching has ever been that there are two distinct authorities, spiritual and temporal; both intended and sanctioned by God. The Church is to concern itself with the spiritual and eternal welfare of men; civil rulers with public order and the temporal welfare of men in this world. In spiritual and eternal things, all, rulers and subjects alike, owe allegiance to the Church. In temporal and worldly affairs Christians, as good citizens, must obey the just laws of the State. So the whole of society would “render to God the things that are God’s, and to Caesar the things that are Caesar’s.”

But the Protestant reformers, by their demand at Augsburg, 1555, “Cujus regio, ejus religio” [“what the ruler is, that is the religion (in his territory) ]-that the religion of the State must be that of its civil ruler-paved the way for a State-dominated Church, with disastrous results.

That the Baptists and all other Nonconformists should rebel against that, even as do Catholics, is quite intelligible. But to go to the other extreme, and demand complete separation of Church and State, is, and has proved to be, equally disastrous.

To tell civil rulers that they must ignore religion, and that the State must be non-religious, inevitably leads to irreligious, and even to anti-religious legislation. Not only must all religious institutions be deprived of government assistance, but a State-controlled education must restrict itself to secular matters only, with a consequent decline of religious knowledge and interest in future generations of citizens subjected to so religionless an atmosphere in their most vitally formative years.

Baptists themselves are beginning to see this. Whilst the vast majority of them are still strongly insistent on the absolute separation of Church and State, the more thoughtful amongst them are growing increasingly hesitant. Thus Hugh Martin, in the chapter on “Church and State,” in his book, “Christian Reunion,” supports the idea that Church and State owe mutual duties to each other, and that each, acting within their respective spheres, may signally promote each other’s welfare. He stresses the danger to the Church arising from any kind of patronage by the State, with its consequent temptation to be subservient to the secular power. But he asks, “So long as the State is willing, with-out any illegitimate interference with the sovereignty of the Church in its own peculiar realm, to give the Church recognition and encouragement, is there any reason why the Church should reject its aid?” (p. 168.) And he declares that Free Churchmen are “ready to search for a system of State RECOGNITION of the Christian Church which will not involve State CONTROL in spiritual matters.”

Not all Free Churchmen would agree with that statement. But Mr. Martin, whilst rejecting any idea of identifying Church and State, denies that the only alternative is that there should be complete separation between them, with no organic connection at all.

According to Catholic teaching, the THEORETICAL ideal is a Christian population in which all profess exactly the same faith, forming one nation from the secular point of view, and one Church from the religious point of view. The whole nation, rulers and subjects alike, would then accept the spiritual guidance of the Church; and the government would safeguard and promote the temporal interests of the Church. The Church in turn would inspire the perfect fulfilment by her members of all duties, both religious and civic.

In PRACTICE, however, such conditions are nowhere perfectly realized; and in the vast majority of the countries of the world, not even approximately realized. And certainly no State could be expected to recognize as a nationally acknowledged Church one which was not widely-representative of the religious life of the nation. Where, then, the people of any country, as in America, profess the most diverse religions, or even none at all, the State has no option but to adopt an attitude of impartial tolerance towards all. But this does not forbid State assistance to the Churches for such work accomplished as the State itself would have to do, did not the Churches undertake it from religious and spiritual motives.

One thing is certain. We must beware of oversimple solutions to so complex a problem. “We all need,” writes the Baptist Hugh Martin, “to pray for deliverance from rigidity in our attitude to this issue. Many of our inherited warcries sound a little thin in the air today.” “Christian Reunion,” p. 160.

9. COMMON GROUND

With much in the exposition given above of those things upon which Baptists place their main emphasis Catholics cannot but be in sympathy. That aspects of the full truth have been unwittingly overlooked should not blind us to the very vital principles for which Baptists stand against the corroding influence of an only too-widespread indifference and unbelief. To a convert to Catholicism from the Baptist Church we would say, “Nothing that is good and true in all you have hitherto held must be abandoned. What you mistakenly believed must be corrected. The further truths to which you have not previously adverted must be allowed to enrich your life. But any genuine truths contained in the religion you have until now professed you will find also in Catholicism, together with new motives for a yet deeper loyalty to them. If you have believed in Christ; believe in Him more firmly still; if you have loved Him, keep that love, and develop it, for never can you love Him as He deserves, and as the Catholic Church desires that you should.”

Take belief in the Bible as the Word of God. That Baptists acknowledge no other authority apart from the Bible does not alter the fact that they do believe the contents of Holy Scripture to have been revealed by God. That they have not always interpreted those contents correctly does not alter the fact that they have fought for the preservation of the Bible against the constant and destructive attacks of rationalist critics. And in this, at least, probably more than any other Protestant Churches, they find themselves in sympathy with a most important aspect of Catholic teaching. For the Catholic Church has defined as an article of faith that God is the Principal Author of both the Old and the New Testaments, a doctrine from which she can never recede. Though Catholics deny that the Bible alone is an adequate source of Christian doctrine, they stand wholeheartedly for the truth of all that the Bible does contain, asking only of those separated from her a deeper consideration of what its contents really imply.

Again, take the necessity of faith. Both Catholics and Baptists agree that faith in Christ is necessary for salvation. That cannot be emphasized too greatly. How the virtue of faith can be implanted in the soul of an infant by baptism is a matter to be discussed elsewhere; but that question in no way detracts from Catholic insistence on the necessity of faith. If some Baptists have gone too far, above all those of earlier times, in holding that men can be saved by faith without good works, that exaggerated view is less dangerous than its opposite, that men can be saved by works without faith-an error which would substitute mere humanitarianism and philanthropy for the Christian religion. The Catholic doctrine that both faith and good works for the love of God, that both Christian belief and Christian behaviour are required of the man who wants to save his soul should surely not lack appeal for any good-living Baptist.

The Baptist insistence on the necessity of personal conversion also stresses a very valuable and important aspect of the truth. No merely formal fulfilment of the external practices of religion will save anybody. As St. Thomas Aquinas points out, external religious rites have value as expressions of interior dispositions of piety and love corresponding to them, and awakened by them. Even the Sacraments, whilst possessing a special efficacy in themselves, have their effects proportionately to the dispositions of those receiving them. In this matter, then, Catholic truth lies between the two extremes. If external, institutional religion cannot dispense from personal spiritual religion, it does not follow that the latter can dispense from the former. Man is not a disembodied spirit, and he cannot live by a disembodied religion. As his soul is enshrined in a material body, so a religion in accordance with his nature will be enshrined in visible and tangible Sacraments and ceremonies. Baptists themselves cannot avoid all external rites; and the question is not as to whether ritual practices are lawful, but as to what they will be. That is the problem that more than deserves further thought.

Another Baptist ideal with which, as an ideal, no one could reasonably quarrel, is that of political and religious liberty. All divergencies here concern the application of the ideal, not the ideal itself. In insisting on the absolute separation of Church and State, Baptists dread anything savouring of the political control of religion, or of the religious control of politics. And here is one of the greatest sources of their antipathy towards the Catholic religion, which they think to stand for both. Yet the Catholic Church repudiates both. In 1215, it was the Catholic Archbishop Langton, of Canterbury, who took the lead in wresting from King John that great Document of Liberty, Magna Carta, one provision of which was that the Church should be free from the royal interference. And when, in 1534, Henry VIII fastened the fetters of the State upon the Church in England, Catholics and Non-conformists alike suffered the penalties of opposition to a State Church subservient to a political ruler.

Not less is the Catholic Church opposed to the religious control of politics. She does assert that political rulers ought to frame their laws in accordance with Christian principles, and not in violation of them. But, granted that they keep within the law of God, she insists that temporal administration belongs to temporal rulers, and is not the duty of the Church. Nor, where a purely religious liberty of conscience is concerned could any Baptist quarrel with Catholic doctrine rightly understood. An immense respect for the individual conscience characterizes Catholic theology; so much so that it teaches that one must not only be free to follow his own conscience, but he is obliged before God to do so even though, through inability to discover one’s true obligations, it is an erroneous conscience. Once again, the discussion is not really as to the paramount claims of political and religious liberty, but as to their nature and scope.

10. MISUNDERSTANDINGS

What has been written above suggests doctrinal misunderstandings on the part of Baptists concerning the nature of the Catholic religion. Mr. Hugh Martin, in his book,”Christian Reunion,” candidly admits their existence. Indeed, “most Christians,” he writes, “know very little Church history, but they tend to inherit the outlook of long ago controversies. Their picture of what those in other denominations really believe is frequently hopelessly out of date; if indeed it ever was true.” (p. 47.) But the difficulty is not confined to doctrinal inaccuracies. Deeper psychological forces are involved. Unreasonable prejudices, fears, and even antipathies bordering on sheer hatred in regard to anything Catholic are not seldom to be found amongst many Protestants; and truth requires the admission that Baptists are often foremost amongst those denouncing the Catholic Church, and openly expressing distrust of its members. Their attitude is inexplicable to Catholics, and Baptists themselves are unable to give adequate reasons for it. It is an inherited bias which will not so much as let them look at the Catholic position; or, should they do so, permit them to study it in anything like an objective, detached, and impartial way.

The whole question of what happened at the Protestant reformation of the 16th century needs reconsidering in a calmer atmosphere than in those days of heated dissent. The superficial, popular views of the majority of people are certainly not correct.

Dr. Nathaniel Micklem, Congregationalist Principal of Mansfield College, Oxford, has recently written, “How much high explosive have we fired at one another, Roman Catholic and Protestant, in the sad controversy of these past four hundred years-and, in the main, with little effect! Controversy there must be, for truth matters supremely; but between us it should be the controversy of brethren who seek to understand, and who mourn our separation:” (Preface to Father Vincent McNabb’s “Catholics and Non-conformists,” p. 3.)

But a balanced judgement is not easy to attain. To rise above historical prejudices is difficult in the extreme. Yet the effort to do so must be made by those who want the full truth. In his book,”The Protestant Reformation in Great Britain,” p. XV, Mr. Joseph Clayton, F.R.Hist.S., himself a convert to Catholicism, does not hesitate to write, “Thousands of Catholics are content to dismiss the Reformation as the mere revolt, the rebellion of bad men inspired by greed and moved by the devil to overthrow true religion. Thousands of Protestants complacently regard the Reformation as a great awakening, a glorious work, blessed by God and carried out by good men divinely inspired. Now, obviously, both these judgements cannot be true. And indeed neither is true, for both are fancy pictures painted in good faith but falsely drawn from want of knowledge. Ignorance and prejudice are responsible-rarely deliberate falsehood-for the errors-and the nonsense-that pass for history.”

But we are concerned, in this booklet, rather with doctrine than with history; and must pass to the consideration of those aspects of Baptist teaching which fail to do justice to the Christian religion as its Divine Founder intended it to be.

11. FALSE PRINCIPLE

In our brief study of the origin of the Baptist movement, we have seen that John Smyth and Thomas Helwys, who founded it in England, and Roger Williams, who founded it in America, had all three originally belonged to the Church of England. But, although dissatisfied with that State-established Church, they did not dream of turning back for the solution of their problems to the Catholic Church which Anglicans had abandoned. They took for granted the Protestant principle that the Bible alone, interpreted by each reader for himself under the guidance of the Holy Spirit, was the only authentic source of Christian truth. And, acting upon this principle, they arrived at unfortunate conclusions which were in reality based on isolated fragments of Scripture, and those misunderstood.

Had they but studied it more closely, they would have discovered that the Bible itself denies that it contains a complete account of God’s revelation, and that it expressly condemns the theory of private interpretation. The great final commission given byChrist to His Apostles was that they should teach all nations “to observe all things whatsoever I have commanded you.” (Matt., 26, 20.) But not all the things He taught the Apostles were committed to writing, by any means. St. John concludes his Gospel with the words, “There are also many other things which Jesus did; which, if they were written every one, the world itself, I think, would not be able to contain the books that should be written.” (Jn. 21, 25.)

As a matter of fact, Jesus did not command His Apostles to write anything. He taught them orally, and commissioned them to preach the Gospel. The first Christians are described as “persevering in the doctrine of the Apostles.” (Acts 2, 42.) That Apostolic teaching was to be handed on as the tradition of the Church through all subsequent ages. It was not until some twenty or thirty years after the foundation of the Church that part of the Apostolic teaching was committed to writing; but all of it had to be accepted, whether written or not. Thus we find St. Paul writing to the Thessalonians, “Brethren, stand fast, and hold the traditions which you have learned, whether by word, or by our epistle.” (II Thess., 2, 14.)

The Bible, then, is not in itself a sufficient guide to the fulness of Christian truth. Nor does it sanction private interpretation as a safe guide to the proper understanding of so much as has been written. “Understand this first,” St. Peter warns us, “that no prophecy of Scripture is made by private interpretation.” (II Pet., 1, 20.) It may be urged that these words mean that the sacred writings are not due to merely human thought, but to divine inspiration. They do. But they do not mean only that. As the Anglican Bishop Ellicott rightly stresses, they also mean that “the reader must not presume to interpret privately that which is far more than ordinary human thought.” So, in the epistle just quoted, St. Peter declares that, in St. Paul’s writings, there “are certain things hard to be understood, which the unlearned and unstable wrest, as theydo also the other Scriptures, to their own destruction.” (II Pet., 3, 16).

Reason itself tells us that the Bible could never have been intended as each man’s guide to the truth. Through over a thousand years before the invention of the printing press, it was impossible to multiply copies of the Bible in sufficient numbers to enable everyone to possess it. And that each reader was meant to be guided by the Holy Spirit in the reading of Scripture is clearly disproved by the fact that, since the universal distribution of the Bible, sincere and earnest Bible-readers have arrived at a multitude of conflicting and contradictory conclusions. If such individual guidance were a reality, the same Holy Spirit would have led all confiding in His assistance to one and the same truth.

These considerations force us back to the Catholic doctrine that, whilst Scripture and Tradition contain the divine teachings, our immediate guide to the knowledge and understanding of them is the Church established and guaranteed by Christ.”I will build my Church,” He said. (Matt. 16, 18.) To that Church, then, represented in the persons of the Apostles, He declared, “He that hears you, hears me.” (Lk. 10, 16.) And again, of every member of that Church He said, “If he will not hear the Church, let him be to you as the heathen and the publican.” (Matt. 18, 17.)

No wonder St. Paul declared “the Church of the Living God” to be “the pillar and the ground of truth.” (I Tim. 3, 15.)

12. HISTORICAL TEST

The very mention of the Church in this con text introduces us to considerations of history. Christ not only said, “I will build my Church.” He added that “the gates of hell shall not prevail against it.” (Matt. 16, 18.) And He promised the Apostles-and obviously their lawful successors, since they could not forever continue on earth-”Behold, I am with you all days, even to the consummation of the world.” (Matt. 28, 20.) The true Church of Christ must be able to show that it was personally established by Christ and it has been in this world all days since then, and is still here, even as it will last till the end of time. Protestant Churches all have the same problem. They all have to face the fact that Christ did not say that He would send men in the 16th century to establish His Church. They all have to justify their assumption that the gates of hell had prevailed against the hitherto existent Catholic Church, forcing them to abandon it, and set up other and different Churches, despite the very definite prediction of Christ that such a state of affairs would never arise. And they all have to account for their not having been in this world all days since Christ, to act in His name throughout the centuries. The English Baptists arrived on the scene 1611 years too late for that; the independently established American Baptists 1639 years too late.

13. PROBLEM OF UNITY

When we turn to the nature of the Church as understood by the Baptists, we find no real correspondence with the New Testament at all. As we have seen above {see Section 6. (B) }, the Congregationalist principle was adopted, each local group being independent of all others, and subject to no authority or discipline beyond that of its own making. And the result is, as we there pointed out, that there is no single and united Baptist Church, but only “Baptist Churches.”

Now Christ Himself said, “I will build My Church,” not “My Churches.” And the right view is undoubtedly given by the Rev. Dr. Goudge, Regius Professor of Divinity at Oxford. “In the New Testament,” he writes, “believers in Christ, not members of the one visible Apostolic Church, are nowhere to be found. We hear, indeed, of “the Churches” as well as of the Church, but these Churches are very different from “the Churches” of which we hear today. The Churches of Galatia, or of Macedonia, are the Christian communities, all alike under St. Paul’s authority, in the Galatian and Macedonian cities. . . . The relation of the Churches to the Church is like the relation of our local postoffices to the G.P.O. in London. There is only one Post Office, private enterprise not being here permitted. But the G.P.O. has its own local representatives in the towns and villages, and in dealing with them we are dealing with the Department itself. Everywhere in the New Testament the Church is one, and only one.” “The Church of England and Reunion,” p. 168.

Anglicans are not the only ones beginning to realize this. Writing as a Baptist, Mr. Hugh Martin says, “What is beyond question is the insistence of the New Testament upon unity as an essential mark of the Church. It is implicit in every metaphor used, and urged in the plainest terms in many places. Unity is inherent in the very idea of the Church, as the Gospel is one, and God is one. The central text of John 17, 21, provides no argument for any particular scheme of Church order: yet it speaks of a visible unity so expressed as to be discernible not only to the spiritual but to the world with the eyes of flesh. It is to be a unity manifested in terms understandable by the man in the street. “(I pray) that they may all be one: even as You, Father, are in me, and I in You, that they also may be in us: that the world may believe that You did send me.” It is surely an unreal question which asks whether the Church is visible or invisible. The Church is, and must be, both.” “Christian Reunion,” pp. 67–68.

Though Mr. Martin declares this to be the plain teaching of the New Testament, the original founders of the Baptist movement overlooked it altogether. They thought only of an invisible Church composed of converted men and women bound together by no visible bonds of unity in the one Church at all. No single ecclesiastical authority was acknowledged. In the name of liberty, individuals and groups of individuals could claim independence of others. The result has been all kinds of variations, with no hope of any universal legislation, each new resultant sect still claiming the name of Baptist. An effort at integration has been made by the establishing of Conventions which are beginning to assert more and more authority over Churches affiliated with them; and a Baptist World Alliance was founded in London in 1905. But many Baptist Churches hold aloof from even these forms of association; whilst those who accept them retain their radical independence, so that no more than a voluntary agreement to co-operate for practical purposes is possible. But that is not the organic unity required by the New Testament. Hugh Martin admits that the New Testament demands “a visible unity . . . manifested in terms understandable by the man in the street.” Is it not significant that all men do recognize the visible and organic unity of the Catholic Church throughout the world? And is it not still more significant that they do not recognize it in any Churches other than the Catholic Church?

14. “BELIEVER’S BAPTISM”

It may be said that although, as Church organizations, Baptists are independent of one another, existing as local and autonomous congregations, all are united in the doctrine of adult baptism only, and in the denial of the validity of infant baptism. Such united witness to one particular doctrine, however, would not make them the one organic body required by New Testament teaching; nor would it compensate for divergencies in other and more vital doctrinal matters.

But what if, leaving those considerations aside, the Baptist insistence on adult baptism only is erroneous? Yet, undoubtedly, this main feature of their religion is mistaken.

Baptists themselves have to admit that there is no express precept in the New Testament limiting baptism to adult believers only. Their doctrine is based entirely upon unjustified inferences, and upon an unwillingness to admit any inherent efficacy in sacramental rites. They quote the demand of John the Baptist, “Repent and be baptized”; and the teachingof Christ, “He that believes and is baptized shall be saved:” They then infer that, because infants cannot believe and repent, they cannot validly receive baptism.

But they overlook the fact that both John the Baptist and Christ were addressing adults, in whom faith and repentance were absolutely necessary conditions for the reception of baptismal regeneration. The logical conclusion, in the light of baptismal teaching elsewhere in the New Testament, is that those who are not adults are not subject to those same conditions.

Meantime, far more solidly grounded is the inference that baptism, from the very beginning, was administered to infants. St. Paul tells us that baptism is the circumcision of Christians. (Coloss. 2, 2.) In the Old Law, circumcision was administered to infants. Is the New Law to be less perfect than the Old Law, containing no purifying rite for infants? Again, Acts Chapter 16 commemorates the baptism of two complete households into the Church by St. Paul; and there is no reason to suppose that those households were composed of adults only.

But the root difficulty is perhaps theological. Baptists are prejudiced against any idea of baptismal regeneration. They don’t see how a sacramental rite, even though instituted by Christ, can accomplish that. They insist that regeneration must take place by faith and repentance before baptism, the rite being but the symbol of a change of heart which has already occurred. Yet Christ Himself attributes the conferring of the new life of grace to the sacramental action itself. “Unless one be born again,” He says, “of water and the Holy Ghost, he cannot enter into the kingdom of God.” (Jn. 3, 5.) St. Paul, in turn, expressly declares that we are saved “by the washing of regeneration, and renovation of the Holy Ghost.” (Tit. 3, 5.) And who can believe that Christians from the very beginning, and through all the ages, fell into error on this vital point, and that it was left to the Anabaptists in Germany, John Smyth and Thomas Helwys in England, and Roger Williams in America, after 16 centuries, to discover the real Christian truth?

Is it any wonder that Baptists themselves are becoming more and more uncertain of their position in regard to baptism? Their unscriptural doctrine is leading them to doubt even the necessity of baptism at all. Amongst them, many “open” Churches no longer insist upon it as a condition of membership; and it would be strange indeed if those who began by staking all on baptism, should end by neglecting it altogether.

15. IMMERSION

Let us turn now to another aspect of this subject. In dealing with the way in which baptism should be administered, Baptists say that it must be by complete immersion, if it is to be valid. Since, according to their explanation, baptism does nothing, but only symbolizes a regeneration that has already happened, it is difficult to see how it really matters for them whether it is valid or not. Perhaps that is why they are becoming less insistent upon its reception at all.

However, they still insist that, if it be administered, it must be by immersion, arguing that th e Greek word “to baptize” can mean only “to dip under”; that the New Testament, in every case, records baptism by immersion only; and that the symbolism of being buried with Christ and risen with Him to a new life is lost, if any method other than immersion be used. But are these assertions true?

The argument from the meaning of the Greek word “to baptize” has been definitely proved unfounded. In non—biblical Greek the word has been found to have a variety of meanings, being used for the staining of the fingers by fruit-juice, the tingeing of water by dyes, and the smearing of the hands with paint! In the Septuagint Greek version of the Old Testament, the word is used for being “wet with the dew of heaven.” In New Testament Greek the word is used frequentlyin the sense of washing; and often metaphorically. Both Christ’s sufferings during His passion, and the Pentecostal descent of the Holy Ghost upon the Apostles, are described as “baptisms.” Whilst, then, the Greek word “to baptize” can mean “to immerse,” it does not always and necessarily mean that.

As for the actual baptisms recorded in the New Testament, there is no certainty at all that they were by immersion. St. John the Baptist could have administered his rite by pouring water over people as they stood in the shallow waters near the banks of the Jordan. After St. Peter’s first sermon over 3000 people were baptized then and there in Jerusalem, and research into the water-supply of the city at that time shows that immersion would have been practically impossible. St. Paul himself was baptized in the house of Ananias. He, later on, whilst in prison, baptized his gaoler there. In neither case would the circumstances permit immersion. Nor should very ill, and dying persons, be refused baptism on the plea that they could not be taken from their sick-beds to be immersed.

Historically, it is absolutely certain that from the very beginning Christians acknowledge as a valid alternative to immersion the pouring of water upon those to be baptized; and they knew that the spiritual symbolism of burial and resurrection with Christ was fully realized in the washing away of the death of sin, and the rising to the new life of grace.

Here again, also, it is impossible to believe that the whole Christian Church had fallen into error for centuries, and that it was left to the Baptists to discover the real truth only after 1600 years! And would it not be strange that, if baptism by immersion be the only valid form, the very founders of the Baptist movement in Europe should have been ignorant of the fact? If the Holy Spirit is responsible for the Baptist doctrine that adult baptism alone is valid, why did not the same Holy Spirit make it clear to the founders, John Smyth and Thomas Helwys, that the rite would be null and void unless it were administered by immersion? Yet neither of them knew anything of this. Both of them received re-baptism by having water poured upon them; and both conferred the rite on others in the same way. John Smyth died in 1612; Thomas Helwys in 1616. The Particular Baptists decided in 1644 that immersion was essential; the General Baptists in 1650. And for the teaching that immersion is essential there is no real warrant at all.

16. BAPTISTS MISS OUT!

This booklet has dealt chiefly with the history and the positive affirmations of the Baptists, by which they believe themselves justified in maintaining their own Churches, apart and distinct from the Catholic Church. But, besides this positive aspect of the situation, there is also a negative aspect, their rejection of the teachings and practices proper to Catholicism. In other words, a Baptist would explain his inability to become a Catholic, not only by asserting his belief in doctrines which the Catholic Church rejects, but also by his lack of belief in many teachings which that Church affirms.

Now it would be impossible in this small booklet to undertake an exposition of those specifically Catholic doctrines and practice, which seem unacceptable to Baptists, giving all the reasons for them, and answering difficulties concerning them. This booklet, after all, is intended to be an examination of the Baptist position, not of the Catholic position. A positive study of Catholicism, therefore, should be sought elsewhere.

But if what has been said in these pages brings out the weakness of the Baptist claims, suggesting need of their serious re-consideration, it would be wrong not to suggest also where the truth is to be found which all men of goodwill desire. To discover that one is walking in a wrong direction is not necessarily to know the right direction. And it is the latter, above all, which one really needs to know. It is to be found in the Catholic religion.

17. CONCLUSION

Historically, scripturally, and logically, no form of Protestantism can stand. Each of the forms of Protestantism, amongst which the Baptist congregations belong, originated at least sixteen centuries too late to be the Church given to the world by Christ Himself. All claim to be based upon the Bible alone, although the Bible itself does not claim to contain an adequate and complete account of the Christian revelation; and all work on the fallacious principle that each reader can infallibly arrive at the true sense of what is written in the Bible, without need of any authoritative guidance from the Church. Yet the fruits of that principle in practice have been doctrinal chaos and endless divisions, with none of the consistency demanded by truth, and no trace of the unity amongst themselves which should characterize the followers of Christ.

On the other hand, historically, the Catholic Church alone goes right back to Christ and the Apostles, and can alone inherit the promise He made that the gates of hell would not prevail against His Church, and that He would be with her all days even till the end of the world; scripturally, the Catholic Church alone is in complete accord with all that is contained in God’s Word; alone manifests that consistency in her teachings which truth demands; alone exhibits that unity amongst all her members throughout the world to be expected of the one fold under one shepherd Christ intended His Church to be. She alone claims to know her own mind infallibly, and to offer men the certainty to be expected of a divinely-established Church. In her, the teaching, sanctifying, and controlling powers of the Apostles for the spiritual welfare of men have been continued by uninterrupted succession; powers which should be available to Christians of the twentieth and twenty-first centuries as to those of the first, or of any other age in the Christian era. In her is found the perfection of the sacrificial worship of God instituted by Christ Himself, and all seven sacramental channels provided by Him for the more certain and efficacious transmission of grace to the souls of men.

The Catholic Church alone, then, can substantiate her claims to be the one completely true form of the Christian religion in this world; she alone can tell us definitely what is to be believed and to be done by those who desire really to follow Christ; she alone can offer us all the necessary spiritual helps in the way of guidance, inspiration, and assistance, to know the full truth, and live it in our daily lives. Brilliant scholars throughout the ages have found in the Catholic Church the light and truth to satisfy their souls; the holiest saints have walked along her ways to perfection; weak and frail sinners have found her ever ready to dispense mercy and forgiveness in the Name of God, and to offer renewed hope of salvation to those in need of the Heavenly Physician. To be content with anything less than the Catholic religion is to be content with far too little; with far less than Christ, Our Lord and Our Redeemer, intended us to possess.

Such words may seem strange to those whose ideas of the Catholic Church have been different from these, or even quite opposed to them. But if Protestants have good reasons for doubting the soundness of their own position, is there not room for doubt also as to the correctness of the impressions they have been given, or have formed for themselves concerning Catholicism? And is not the very statement of the Catholic claims an invitation to an earnest and prayerful study of them? Tens of thousands of converts to the Catholic Church will tell you that to yield to that invitation will be seen in later life to have been the first step towards the fulness of the light, refreshment, and peace Christ came to bestow upon the souls of men.

Nihil Obstat:

W. M. COLLINS, Censor Dioc.

Imprimatur:

@ D. MANNIX,

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis. 5th July, 1954

********

The Beatific Vision of God

THE VERY REV. HUGH POPE, O.P., S.T.M., DOCT. S. SCRIPT

INDEX

I. THE PROBLEM STATED

“THIS is eternal life,” says Christ, “to know Thee, O Father, and Jesus Christ whom Thou hast sent”; even more explicitly St. John: “We shall be like Him, because we shall see Him as He is”; and St. Paul: “We see now through a glass in a dark manner, but then face to face. Now I know in part, but then I shall know even as I am known.” Here are the plain statements of revelation, and, since truth is one, they cannot be in conflict with reason, though they may be beyond reason’s comprehension. Moreover no theory of knowledge which excludes such ultimate vision of God on the ground that it is impossible can be valid. Yet the initial difficulty will be patent to all: how can the human intellect, which functions in dependence on material things through the senses and imagination, grasp a purely spiritual immaterial Being, namely God Himself? We propose to show how the Scholastic philosophers faced the problem; and we shall have to begin by stating briefly the Aristotelian and Scholastic theory of human knowledge.

Man is compounded of an intellectual, spiritual, immaterial soul working in and through a material corruptible body. Hence he has a double principle of knowledge, the senses and the intellect. Sense-perception is the act of a bodily organ- I see or touch this individual book or man. Intellectual knowledge, on the contrary, is not the act of a bodily organ but of a spiritual or immaterial faculty. Hence it is solely concerned with what is immaterial and therefore universal, that is with genera, species, natures, essences, substances if you will, but not with individuals. It is concerned solely with the universal, with the immaterial natures or essences lying behind the sensible phenomena of individual material things. But precisely because these latter do shroud immaterial natures man’s intellectual knowledge must be conditioned by its relation to the senses. How, then, is the gap between mere sense-impressions and intellectual perceptions bridged over? It can hardly be questioned that the imagination serves as the bridge, for it seems in some way to share the characteristics of both sense and intellect, to be partly material, partly spiritual. Thus Aristotle taught that the sense-impression, the image on the retina of the eye for instance, produced a similar image in the imagination, and that this latter image served as the connecting link between the senses and the intellect. To the intellect he attributed two functions which he named the active and passive intellects or the intellectus agens and the intellectus possibilis. The function of the former was to consider apart from their material veils the actual nature or essence of the thing thus presented by the senses to the imagination. The eye, for example, sees a triangle-in other words a material representation of a triangle is impressed on the retina. If we now close our eyes we can, without further recourse to the sensible image, call up an imaginary triangle of shadowy and blurred outline and only less clear than the concrete sharply outlined picture on the retina. The “active” intellect now comes into play. Its sole object is the spiritual or immaterial; hence in the presentation of the object by the imagination the active intellect considers solely the immaterial nature of a triangle whether equilateral, isosceles, or what. The image thus acquired or “abstracted” is termed the impressed image or species impressa. From the active intellect it passes to the passive intellect which is thus rendered actually and no longer merely potentially, understanding. The clearcut idea thus formed of a triangle is the universal-because spiritual and immaterial-concept of a triangle. It is “universal” in the sense that it carries with it no determinations or limitations as to size or any particular qualifications of triangles in general. This image or universal concept is known as the species expressa and as such is stored up in the passive intellect for future use. From the fact that the reception of the impressed image made the intellect no longer potentially but actually understanding, this image is termed the “form” as being the “informing” principle of such actual understanding. This is summed up in the phrase: “intelligible in actu est intellectus in actu.”

Certain consequences of this doctrine will be manifest:

(a) Since the intelligible truth in question is received into a faculty it can only be there in proportion to the capacity of the recipient. Hence, though all truth is of its nature intelligible, it will not follow that our intelligence of it will be proportioned to its intelligibility; nor does it follow that every individual human intellect will grasp equally the same intelligible truth.

(b) While the human intellect is itself immaterial and spiritual it is yet compelled to function through the senses and imagination. Hence no purely spiritual nature, no nature, that is, which cannot by reason of its immaterial character be presented in a form which appeals to the senses and imagination, can as such be within the scope of the human intellect. The intellect can, for instance, argue to the existence of such a nature, but cannot know that nature in itself. Thus we can argue that God must exist and that He cannot be this or that because of the imperfections such ideas connote; but we cannot know that His essential nature is precisely this or that.

These principles seem at first sight to exclude the possibility of man’s attaining to the intellectual vision of the nature of God Who is pure Intelligence and Who consequently has no relationship to material things save as their Creator.

II. INTELLIGENCE, DIVINE AND HUMAN

When we pass from the human intelligence to the divine we can argue that God must needs be an Intelligence, indeed the Supreme Intelligence; further, that since His nature is identified with His existence- else He would not be the First Cause and would be only potentially existing, at least at some conceivable moment prior to His actual existence. He must therefore be His own act of intelligence. Moreover He must understand Himself by Himself, since any other way of understanding Himself would involve a transition from potentiality to actuality, and that is inconceivable in the Supreme Being or First Cause.

Such philosophical positions may seem, at first sight, to contradict St. Paul’s statement: “Then I shall know even as I am known,” and St. John’s : “We shall see Him as He is.” Yet the Schoolmen, who accepted the declarations of revelation, also accepted the epistemological principles of the Stagirite. Is their reconciliation of these opposing factors a mere tour de force, a magnificent piece of intellectual hair-splitting, or is it an absolute triumph of genius? If the former, it is hard to understand how the mightiest of intellects down the subsequent ages have been unable to detect any flaw in their reasoning.

Nor must we imagine that the Schoolmen’s difficulty lay simply in reconciling their theory of knowledge with the data of revelation. That difficulty was grave enough, but it was immensely increased by certain other speculations of which the modern world has totally lost sight, but which are of the profoundest importance for the right understanding of the problem we are discussing.

III. ANGELIC INTELLIGENCES

The divine and human intelligences may be regarded as the two extremes in the scale of intelligent beings. The one is His own existence and His own intelligence, and therefore purely immaterial or spiritual; the other is an intelligent being functioning. through and in a material organism and receptive of existence rather than actually being its own nature. Now it is at least conceivable that between these two extremes there exist intelligences which (a) are caused and not selfproduced, and which are therefore not their own existence but receive it and thus are distinct from God the Uncaused Being, while (b) they are distinct from men in that they are pure intelligences having no relation to matter.

The whole of antiquity as well as the whole of revelation demands the existence of such intermediate beings. Revelation knows them as “angels,” Greek philosophy as “separated substances”-”separated,” that is, as having no relation to matter. Among the Jews the Sadducees stood alone in repudiating the idea of angels; among Christian thinkers Origen alone claimed a material character for them. Here we shall take the existence of such “separated” substances for granted, partly because of revelation, partly because, while reason may not be able rigidly to demonstrate their existence, it can at least bring forward arguments which have satisfied the greatest thinkers of all ages. It is the angels who are referred to in the “visibilium et invisibilium” of the Nicene Creed. As regards their nature it will be sufficient to point out here that since such “separated” substances are immaterial there is no room in them for numerical apart from specific distinction; hence all angels must be specifically distinct from one another; further, since they are purely immaterial they must be incomparably more glorious than the most glorious material sun or constellation; lastly, in opposition to Aristotle’s view, they are a vast multitude.

We have, then, three grades of intelligent beings: God, angels and men. But we must of course undestand the word grades cautiously. For it would obviously be wrong to suppose that there is only a difference of degree between the Supreme Intelligence and the intelligences which He has created. If there were only a difference of degree there would be no difficulty in the idea of beatific vision, for we could readily imagine that a gradual purification of the human intelligence would finally result in a comprehension of the Supreme Intelligence. But no clear thinker could suppose that we can predicate of God and His creatures being and its attributes in any univocal sense; what His creatures are God is in a super-eminent fashion, since He is the Cause of all they are and possess. A man is not the picture he produces. This will become clearer if we examine by the light of reason how each of these intelligences-the divine, the angelic and the human-understands.

God knows all things by His own self-subsisting nature which is identified with His actual understanding, and this latter is, in conjunction with His will, the cause of all things. In Himself He knows Himself and all things possible and actual intuitively. At the other extreme men know through the two-fold medium of sense and intellect, and these two work together so that human understanding is conditioned by the material organism in which the intelligence dwells and through which it functions. Angels know by their very nature, which is pure intelligence totally independent of matter. They are subsisting-though not self-subsisting or self-produced-intelligences. Consequently they can have no such things as sense impressions, nor can they have the imagination’s concepts. Hence in them there is no place for the work of abstraction such as the human active intellect performs. Being simply intelligences they must understand by their very nature, and all intelligible truth must naturally be knowable by them.

IV. THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN THE HUMAN AND THE ANGELIC INTELLIGENCE Now since the human intelligence is not an angel, it is not a separated substance; yet it is separable; it can, on the dissolution of the body, become what is known as the anima separata or, in the language of the modern spiritualist, the “discarnate soul,” and in that state it can, though in a limited fashion, function. If now we can discover what is the proper, connatural, object of the separated substance, how it knows and what; if, again, we can discover what is the proper, connatural object of the separated or discarnate soul, what it can know and how, we shall be well on the way to the solution of the problem: how can the human soul see the essence of God, in which vision revelation places our ultimate beatitude?

It is clear that a separated substance, being a pure intelligence, knows by its own nature; its one function is to understand. It will also follow that everything that is intelligible-in other words all truth-is its natural object, just as all that possesses colour is the natural object of the human eye. Therefore the separated substance naturally knows God. But to what extent? In other words: do the natural powers of a separated substance or angel lead him to a knowledge of the Essence of God, or simply to the fact of His existence? Now an angel is created, therefore he is an effect of God, and consequently no analysis of that effect will demonstrate the nature or afford comprehensive knowledge of the cause that produced it, though it will enable us to argue about it. And this simply because no finite effect of an Infinite Cause can totally represent it, nor can it, in consequence, lead us to more than a partial and inadequate knowledge of its Cause. At the same time an angel, being an intelligence, recognizes himself as an effect of the First Cause, and in the same way understands other angels; yet, for the same reason as above, such knowledge will not enable him to arrive at a knowledge of God’s essence. Hence St. Thomas says:

“A separated substance by its own substance (or nature) knows of God (a) that He exists, (b) that He is the Cause of all things. (c) that He transcends them all, and (d) that He is far removed not only from all things that are, but from all things that the created mind can possibly conceive. This knowledge of God we too possess in our degree. For from effects we know that God exists, that He is the Cause of all things, that He transcends them all and is far removed from them all; and this is the final and most perfect stage of our knowledge in this life. Hence says Denis (the Areopagite) ‘We are joined to God as to something unknown,’ and this because while we know of God what He is not, what He really is remains totally hidden from us . .

“Since however a nature that is lower in the scale attains at its very best only to what is least in a nature that is above itself in the scale, it will follow that knowledge such as the above must be possessed by the separated substances in a degree far transcending the way in which we possess it.” ‘The separated substances,’ he concludes, ‘know with greater certainty and clarity than we do that God exists.’ “

But what about the discarnate soul, or soul that has passed from the tabernacle of the body? Is it like the angels? Does it know as they know? Clearly it cannot know more than they know; therefore it cannot possibly attain by its natural powers to a knowledge of the essence of God. If it is to see God, as revelation demands, this can only be through the bestowal of some power to which it has no right and which we therefore term “supernatural.” But it is an axiom of the Schools that “grace-or God’s gift-does not destroy, but perfects, nature.” The problem then, is to discover how the human intellect which, on Aristotle’s principles, can only know when a similitude of the thing known enters the percipient mind-and even then only through the medium of an image in the imagination-can see the Essence of God without the intervention of any such similitude and without the imaginary presentment of the object known which Aristotle and the Scholastics demand. If these two points are absolutely and in all circumstances essential to human understanding, then it would seem to follow that vision of the essence of God is not merely due to a supernatural gift but demands a radical change in human nature; and this is impossible.

ST. THOMAS’S TREATMENT OF THE PROBLEM

St. Thomas treats of the Vision of God by the human soul in various places of the Summa Theologica and under various aspects. Thus he deals with our knowledge of God’s nature as seen in His works, also with that knowledge of God which is faith, with our intuitional knowledge of His nature- which is our immediate concern here-with that same knowledge as constituting the very essence of our ultimate happiness, and, finally with the same Beatitude as a state to which we are led through Christ’s life, death, and resurrection.

The actual question with which we are concerned is dealt with almost at the opening of the Summa; for after treating of God’s existence and attributes St. Thomas opens his twelfth Quaestio: “How God may be known by us.” He is dealing, be it noted, with real knowledge, knowledge, that is, of the nature of God as distinct from our knowledge of His existence, which the Saint has already discussed. He begins by asking whether “any created intellect can see the essence of God,” and his affirmative answer is based on St. John’s words: “We shall see Him as He is.” In his discussion of the question, after pointing out that because God is supremely knowable in Himself it will not follow that created intellects can therefore know Him, any more than the splendour of the sun enables a bat to see it, St. Thomas proceeds to show that the conclusion at which some have therefore arrived, viz., that the created intellect can never arrive at the vision of God’s essence, is false. His argument is that since the ultimate perfection of man must lie in his highest function, that, namely, of understanding, it will follow that if the created intellect can never know the essential nature of God either it will never attain to final happiness at all, or that happiness must lie in something other than God; a conclusion “which is contrary to our faith.” Moreover, since the perfection of every single thing lies in the attainment of its principle, it will follow that the ultimate perfection of the rational nature must lie in the intellectual attainment of God. “Further, such a conclusion is opposed to reason. For there is in man a natural desire of knowing the cause of any effect he sees, so that if the mind were unable to attain to the first cause of things this natural desire would remain unsatisfied. Hence we must simply concede that the Blessed do see the essence of God.”

This argument is not meant to be a demonstration in the strict sense; for its basis is revelation and not pure reason.

But while the argument from desire may not perhaps be absolutely convincing to all minds it seems clear that to question it would involve questioning the justice of the Creator of our nature with its desires.

Granting, however, that such knowledge is possible, St. Thomas next asks whether such vision of God’s essence is through the medium of some likeness of God. For all knowledge seems to involve the presence of the object known in the percipient, not of course in its physical nature but in an image of it, just as the image of a stone is formed on the retina of the eye which sees it: “If the object seen and the principle of the visual power were one and the same it would follow that the percipient must derive from the same thing both its visual power and the ‘form’ whereby it sees. It is clear however that God is the Author of the intellectual powers and can be seen by the intellect; and since created intellectual powers are not God’s essence it remains that they can only be some participative likeness of Him Who is the Primal Intelligence.” Only in this sense he concludes, can we say that God’s essence is seen through the medium of some likeness of God, viz., that the intellectual faculty is itself an intellectual light derived from the First Light. But of the thing seen, the divine essence, there can be no image or likeness in the mind for the compelling reason that, no created image can mirror the Infinite.

By this exclusion of all images of God in the mind that sees His essence St. Thomas. might seem to be placing this beatific vision in a category apart. But he is careful to show that this is not his intention at all by formulating this point as a difficulty which tells against himself. “The intellect actually understanding is the thing actually understood. But that can only be when the intellect is ‘informed’ by an image of the thing understood. If then God is actually seen by the created intellect He must be seen by some likeness or image.” His answer is brief: “The divine essence is God’s very existence. Consequently, just as other intelligible forms (natures) which are not their own existence are united to some mode of existence whereby they ‘inform’ the intellect and thus reduce it to actual understanding, so the divine essence is united to the created intellect as something actually understood; and of itself it reduces the intellect to actual understanding.” In other words: if we are to see God, then God must in some way be in us according to the norm of all vision, whether sensible or intellectual. But whereas other things enter our intellect by a likeness or image of themselves, this is impossible in the case of the vision of God; for no image can mirror the Infinite, and of course if the medium were merely a finite image then it would not be the essence of God that we see but something short of it. Some might feel that this solution of the difficulty, that all vision demands a likeness in the percipient, was merely a counsel of despair: no other way is possible; this one, then, must be true. But St. Thomas really argues: No other solution is possible; but this one is possible; therefore it is true. The question, then, is: how is it possible? How can the very essence of God enter into our minds?

It is somewhat remarkable that here in the Summa Theologica St. Thomas gives us but little information on this point. The divine essence, he, says, is united to the created intellect as something actually understood; of itself it reduces the intellect to actual understanding; but he does not discuss how this can be. Elsewhere, however, he enters into details. Faith, he insists, demands such vision; reason also demands that perfect happiness can only consist in the most perfect exercise of our highest faculty, the intellect; only the supremely intelligible can satisfy this condition; therefore our final happiness must consist in the vision of God Himself as our ultimate-and in the case of rational creation-our immediate principle or Cause “as our faith declares.” Now this vision cannot be through any image of God since any image which was not God Himself could only lead to analogical and therefore insufficient knowledge.

“It remains then,” he concludes, “that that whereby the created intellect sees God in His essence must be that divine essence itself. Not of course that the divine essence should be the informing principle of the intellect itself (for that would make the human intellect God), but that it stands to it as its informing principle. Hence, just as from a form (or specific principle) which is part of a thing, and from matter, one actual thing is produced, so-though in different fashion-from the divine essence and the created intellect there results one thing ‘in understanding,’ while, that is, the intellect understands and the divine essence is understood by means of itself.”

Is this Pantheism? Does it mean that the created intellect and the divine essence become one thing? If so, it is Pantheism. But St. Thomas is careful to point out that this is not what he means: “This does not mean,” he says, “that the divine essence becomes the informing principle of the created intellect as though it were a part of its essential being, but that in the actual act of understanding the divine essence stands to the created intellect in the same way as a form (or specifying principle) stands to matter of which it is an actual part in being.”

But even so St. Thomas has not yet explained how this can be. He finds, however, in the Commentary of Alexander on Aristotle’s De Anima an illustration which serves his purpose. “Whenever two things are received into a third and one is more perfect than the other, the more perfect is related to the less perfect just as a form (or specifying principle) is related to the material that it perfects; light, for example, is the perfecting principle of colour when both are in the ether. Consequently, since the created intellect which is in the created substance is less perfect than the divine essence also existing in it (he means in beatific vision), that divine essence will, in a sense, stand to that created understanding in th e same proportion as a form (or specifying principle). We find a sort of parallel to this in nature: a subsisting thing cannot, if it is in any way conjoined to matter, be the form (or specifying principle) of any other matter; a stone, for instance, cannot be the specifying principle of any other matter. But a self-subsisting immaterial thing can become the informing principle of matter, as is evident in the case of the soul. Similarly, then, in a certain sense the divine essence, which is pure act, becomes the specifying principle of the intellect as actually understanding, though totally different from it in actual being. Hence the Master says that the union of the body with the rational soul is a kind of type of the union of the beatified rational soul with God.”

Elsewhere St. Thomas speaks of this presence of the divine essence in the soul as the “illapse” of the Deity into the soul. “The divine essence,” he teaches, “sufficiently represents itself (to the intellect), and consequently when it is united to the intellect as its ‘form’ the latter sees of God Himself not only that He exists but also what He is.”

VI. THE LIGHT OF GLORY

But there remains a further problem: We have already seen that the created intelligence which sees God is itself a participated likeness of Him Who is the Primal Intelligence, and that consequently the created vision of God is intelligence meeting Intelligence, light meeting Light. But it still remains true that it is but a human and created or finite thing and that it is still a case of a finite light and intelligence meeting the Infinite; or, as Aristotle expresses it: “th e difficulty of understanding things arises from ourselves and not from the things themselves; for even with regard to the most patent things our intellect is like the eye of a bat looking at the sun.” The bat of course has eyesight, just as a man has; it is simply a question of degree; so that for a bat to be able to gaze at the sun his eyesight would need no change in its nature, it would merely require strengthening. So, too, with the human intellect. If a thing is true it is intelligible and therefore has some relation to all intellectual beings. Hence for the human intellect to elicit an act of understanding of the Supreme Being involves no change in its nature; if such change were requisite, then that human being would cease to be a human being; consequently, for the human intellect to understand God its powers must simply be intensified. We have a parallel to this in the “light of faith,” which contradicts no power of the intellect but enables it to admit truths which it does not understand but accepts on authority. And since the created intellectual light is already a participation in the divine intelligence, any further intensification of this light will only mean a further participation in the divine intelligence; it is in this sense that St. Peter terms grace a participation in the divine nature; and grace does not destroy but perfects nature. There must be added, then, to the created intellect, if it is to see the divine essence, some intensification of its natural light, and this, says St. Thomas, “is the light of the divine glory; of it the Psalmist speaks when he says: ‘In Thy light we shall see light.’” This light is not God Himself, it is not a new faculty, it is not charity, rather is it a supernatural habit strengthening the intellect to elicit an act which though in perfect conformity with its powers is yet beyond them if unaided. This light St. Thomas also calls gratia consummata. We must be careful, however, when we speak of this light of glory as an intensification: “No intensive increase of the natural powers would suffice, for this vision is not of the same nature as the natural vision of the created intellect . . . There must then be an increase of the intellectual power by its obtaining some new disposition.” In other words, some added power which is supernatural, beyond our nature, that is, but not contrary to it.

So far, then, we have seen how the vision of God’s essence by the created intellect, whether Angelic or human, involves no contradiction. According to Aristotle’s teaching all knowledge demands the reception of the thing known unto the percipient in some form or other, and in this divine vision God, Who is known or seen, Himself enters the mind; He is both that which is seen and that whereby He is seen. Again, the human intellect has a certain affinity for all truth; intelligence and intelligibility are in a sense correlatives. And though the divine essence is infinitely distant from the human intelligence, this is not the distance of opposition or contradiction; for that the human mind should claim the power to see God is not like the ear claiming to see or the eye to hear. But at the same time this infinite transcendence of the divine above the human does mean that the human mind cannot by its natural powers see the supremely intelligible, namely God, any more than-to use Aristotle’s expression-a bat can see the sun. If then it is to see God the human intelligence must receive some new disposition fortifying it for the task.

VII. THE PHANTASMA

But a peculiar difficulty remains when it is a question of the human intelligence as distinct from the angelic. For an angel, or separated substance, is a pure intelligence; he is immaterial or spiritual. The human intelligence, however, as we saw at the outset, dwells in a corporeal framework through and by which it functions. Through the ever-open doors of the senses impressions are conveyed to the mind through the medium of the imagination, and for the registering of every fresh intellectual impression or idea recourse must perforce be had to these presentations by that faculty. But if this recourse to imagination’s presentations is connatural to the human intellect it would seem that in beatific vision, where there is no place for the imagination, either the whole nature of our intellectual operations must be radically changed-and we thus cease to act as human beings-or the place of the imagination must be supplied by something similar to the “Light of glory,” or the dependence of the intellect on the imagination must be confined to this material sensible life wherein the intellect has perforce to function through the bodily organism.

VIII. THE ARABIAN PHILOSOPHERS

We have taken for granted Aristotle’s epistemology and his views on the constitutive elements of the human species. But in the thirteenth century those ideas either were not fully grasped, or were presented in a distorted fashion, or-owing to an extravagant notion of the real character of the separated substances-the human intellect was conceived of as being itself a separated substance, or at least as possessing such affinity with angelic natures that it could naturally know them and that its ultimate beatitude consisted in such knowledge.

These aberrations of the Arabian philosophers were due, at least in part, to the fact that, as St. Thomas points out, “the question whether the human soul can, while still joined to the body, understand the separated substances, Aristotle undertook to answer; but since his answer is not to be found in any of his works that have come down to us his followers were led to indulge in all sorts of answers to the question.”

The story of the Arabian school of Platonist and Aristotelian philosophers is an exceedingly interesting one. It was founded by Alexander of Aphrodisias in the second century after Christ, and to him succeeded in the three following centuries the Platonist commentators Porphyry and Simplicius. When the Emperor Justinian closed this Platonist School in A.D. 529 it passed to Persia and Syria, where Aristotle’s works were translated by the Christians at Nisibis and Edessa, as also at Baghdad. It was in this latter centre that the Arabians became acquainted with Aristotle’s philosophical system, though, at the same time Byzantium was serving as a focus for Aristotelian studies under Photius, Nicetas and Comnenus, and especially at a later period under Michael of Ephesus in the twelfth century. These twin streams of interpretation- from Persia, Syria, Arabia and the Moors on the one hand, and from Athens and Constantinople on the other, converged on the University of Paris in the twelfth century.

Most of the theological speculations of these Arabians were ultimately derived from Proclus, whose influence appeared especially in the famous treatise De Causis, the authorship of which is unknown, but which exercised a profound influence on the theological thought of the Middle Ages. Proclus himself had taught-as an echo of Plato-that there existed a series of hypostatised, universal ideas which constituted a hierarchy of causes, and this notion runs, as we shall see, throughout the Arabic speculation of the time of the Scholastics. see, throughout the Arabic speculation of the time of the Scholastics.

1037); Algazel, or Gazali (1059–1111). All these represented the strictly Eastern tradition. From North Africa or Moorish Spain came Avempace or Ibn Badsha (d. 1138); Abubacer or Ibn Bekr (I100–1185); and, most famous of all, Averroes or Ibn Roshd (1126–1198)-it is to him that St. Thomas refers when he speaks of “the Commentator,” just as by “the Philosopher” he means Aristotle. Avicebron, author of the Fons Vitae often quoted by St. Thomas, was really a Jew and not a Moor; his true name was Salomon ben Gabirol.

It must not be thought that because St. Thomas fought so strenuous a battle against these teachers he therefore condemned them utterly. He clearly regarded them as giant intellects, and treats them with real respect. At times he even uses Avicenna as an acknowledged authority, though he points out that in addition to his errors on the question we have been discussing Avicenna held the strange notion that evil was limited to this side of the moon, also that he erred touching predestination and prophecy. Avempace he seems to have only known through the writings of Averroes; at any rate he speaks of him as “Avempace quidam.” Algazel he often refers to, also to Avicebron.

To return, however, to the speculations of the Arabian teachers of the twelfth and thirteenth centuries. They held that we could have a complete understanding of the angels. But is this true? Can we know the natures or essences of separated substances? Can we know them as they really are in themselves and not merely the fact that they exist, as well as certain conclusions as to what their natures are or rather ought to be? The question is not a frivolous one; for many of the Arabian philosophers-for example Avempace-and even the early Aristotelian commentator Alexander, maintained that we really could know the nature of the angels; they even held that ultimate human beatitude consisted precisely in such knowledge. St. Thomas terms the arguments by which Avempace supported, his view “frivolous,” and rightly, because no speculative knowledge of which we are conscious can do more than show that such natures exist; it can never show us what they really and essentially are in themselves. But the ideas of Alexander demand fuller consideration. For while he held that our passive intellect was an integral but corruptible portion of our nature and that consequently it could never arrive at any knowledge of the angelic nature, Alexander also taught-and this was the false doctrine that ate into the heart of the philosophy and theology of the twelfth and thirteenth centuries, especially in the University of Paris-that the active intellect was no part of man but was itself an angel or separated substance, also that it was the active principle of intelligence in us and finally took the place of the passive intellect whereby we are actually understanding. And since this active intellect became, according to Alexander, our informing principle and was itself an angel, we not only became angels specifically-if such a thing were possible-but by means of this separated substance we ultimately came to know all other separated substances and in such knowledge lay our ultimate happinesss.

It is easy to see that such a doctrine destroyed the reality of the human species, negatived the immortality of the soul, and made the revealed doctrine of man’s ultimate vision of the essence of God fantastic. In St. Thomas’s day this doctrine was in possession, and its hold was intensified by the support it received from the greatest of all the Arabians, Averroes. Moreover this doctrine was presented as being solidly based on Aristotle’s teaching. These facts afford us an idea of the gravity of the task devolving on the Christian teachers of that day who would show that the truths of revelation, for example the immortality of the soul and its future vision of the essence of God, were by no means in conflict with sound reason and-since the mighty authority of Aristotle had been invoked-were not in conflict with what the Stagirite really had taught.

The views of Alexander were peculiarly dangerous from the very fact that they seemed to adhere so closely to Aristotle’s teaching. For whereas Avempace held that by ever-growing refinements of mental abstraction we ultimately attained to a knowledge of the separated substances-a view which St. Thomas dubs “frivolous,” Alexander had taught nothing so trivial as this. Nor, for he was a true disciple of Aristotle, had he fallen into the ridiculous error held later by Avempace of supposing that images in the imagination could be a medium for arriving at a knowledge of the purely immaterial. Like Aristotle, too, he had always insisted that the active intellect was the principle of actual knowledge. But his twofold error lay in making the passive intellect corruptible and the active intellect something external to man, something eternal and self-subsisting, yet the actual principle of man’s knowledge.

But Averroes, the greatest of all the Arabians, felt so keenly the enormity of making the passive intellect corruptible that he went to the opposite extreme and regarded both it and the active intellect as imperishable, eternal, self-subsisting principles apart from man.

He argued that our intellectual faculties can understand both speculative principles and even the active intellect itself. He also maintained that it was this latter, namely, the active intellect, which put us in positive possession of speculative principles and thus made them actually known; moreover, that in the intelligible order, this active intellect was really the informing principle of such speculative principles. Hence by our gradually increasing grasp of speculative principles the active intellect became more and more a part of us. And if, in the process of time, we men were able, by assiduous study, to make all speculative principles our own we should find that we had completely absorbed into ourselves the separated self-subsisting substance or angel known by these philosophers as the active intellect, and should, have thus acquired full knowledge of the essence of a separated substance; in this would have lain our beatitude.

Against all these views St. Thomas shows that according to Aristotle’s positive teaching the intellectual soul is the “form” or specifying principle of the body; that it is in very deed its effective as well as its final cause; further, that since the intellect-whether active or passive-is simply a faculty of the soul it cannot be, as the Arabians insisted, a “separated” substance, but must be an essential part of man.

Moreover the soul is immortal; that is to say it is not a “form” or specifying principle which perishes with the body. This is not simply a question of revelation and therefore of faith, but a principle which can be proved by reason. The consequence is that quite apart from revelation-it is demonstrable that man’s final happiness can never be attained in this world. And while nothing but God can satisfy the cravings of the soul, revelation teaches that that same soul shall as a matter of fact enjoy ultimately the vision of God’s very essence. Such vision must, then, be possible. Lastly, because “grace does not destroy, but perfect, nature,” that vision must be exercised by the soul in a manner which does no violence to the nature of the intellect. But that God Himself should enter the soul and thus become both the goal of beatific vision and its medium, and that the created intellect, to elicit such an act of vision, must demand such supernatural “fortification” of its powers as is expressed in the term lumen gloriae-these difficulties, though very real, are, to St. Thomas’s thinking, trifling compared to the difficulty arising from the fact that the human intellect necessarily understands through the medium of phantasmata or the imagination’s concepts. For here we have a fundamental fact. At every turn St. Thomas repeats it: “We cannot,” he says, for example, “even reflect upon things of which we already possess knowledge without turning to these phantasmata-though he [Avicenna] denies this.” “But this very fact,” St. Thomas continues, “makes it all the more difficult to see how the separated soul can understand. For then there will be no phantasmata, since both for their apprehension and preservation these require the organs of the body.”

The solution, for him, lies in the fact that the human intellect is a light whose connatural object is truth or all intelligible things. So long as it dwells in the body it can only arrive at truth through the medium of the senses and the imagination. But once separated from the body it will be “like the angels”; it will be a separated substance, though incomplete in the sense that it will always retain its relationship to the body in which it dwelt; indeed it will be in a “violent state” until it is rejoined to it. But it is “separated,” and therefore must understand precisely as the angels understand; all truth must be accessible to it. St. Thomas proves step by step that man’s full beatitude cannot be realised in this world. For this beatitude must lie in the knowledge of God, yet the ordinary vague knowledge of God we all have or can have will not suffice, nor will demonstration of His existence such as speculative science can afford satisfy us, nor the knowledge which is faith-since that, of its nature, supposes a certain baffling obscurity incompatible with beatitude.

“For reasons like these,” he concludes, “Alexander and Averroes made man’s ultimate happiness consist, not in human knowledge such as arises from speculation, but in man’s union with a separated substance, a union which they thought possible in this life. Aristotle, on the contrary, since he realised that in this life we have no other means of arriving at knowledge except through speculation, maintained that man could not attain to perfect happiness save in some proportionate fashion. This shows us to what straits these brilliant minds were reduced. We, however, are freed from such straits if we grant, as we have proved, that man can attain true happiness after this life since his soul is immortal, and that in that state the soul understands in the same way as do separated substances.[ ] Hence man’s ultimate happiness will lie in that knowledge of God which the human mind has after this life, knowing Him, that is, in the same way as the separated substances know Him.

“Hence it is that the Lord promises us a reward in heaven, and St. Matthew says that the saints shall be like the angels, who always see God in Heaven.”

“If the passive intellect is, despite its union with the body, incorruptible and independent of matter for its existence, as we have shown above, it follows that its present state of compulsion to understand through material things is an accident arising from the soul’s union with the body. Consequently, when the soul comes to be separated from the body the passive intellect will be able to understand things that are intelligible in themselves, namely separated substances, and this through the light of the active intellect which is a likeness in the soul of the intellectual light which is in the separated substances. This is the teaching of our faith touching our understanding of separated substances after death, but not during this life.”

Elsewhere St. Thomas expresses the same doctrine with even greater fulness: “If the human soul were receptive of abstract and universal notions in the same way as are the separated substances it would, since its intellectual powers are the least in the scale [of intelligent beings], have only most imperfect knowledge, for it would only know things in a general and confused fashion. Consequently, for its knowledge to be perfected and distinct in detail, it must gather its knowledge of truth from individual things; and the light of the active intellect is necessary in order that things may be received into the soul in a higher fashion than they actually exist in matter. Consequently, again, for the perfection of its intellectual operations the soul was necessarily united to the body. At the same time we cannot doubt but that through the movements of the body and the soul’s occupation with sensible things the soul is hindered from receiving the influences of separated substances; for we see that people when asleep, and therefore freed from the action of the senses, receive certain revelations which do not happen to them when in the full possession of their senses. When, then, the soul is wholly separated from the body it will be more fully receptive of influences coming from the separated substances, in this sense, that then by such influence it will be able to understand without having recourse to the imagination’s concepts, a thing that it cannot now do. At the same time this influence will not cause such perfect and detailed knowledge as that which we now receive through the medium of the senses save in the case of those souls which, in addition to the aforesaid natural influence, shall receive another and supernatural influence fitting them to know all things most fully and to see God Himself”

The Beginning And End of Man

MGR. RONALD KNOX

INDEX

I

MAN’S PLACE IN CREATION

The Theory of Evolution has its own evolution through more than a century of scientific controversy; its own variations, now elicited by the need of adaptation to a changing environment in philosophical thought, in religious and even political, history, now consisting of imperceptible modifications immanent in the process; and through it all runs, like a principle of natural selection, the iron law of inductive experiment, testing and winnowing the theories of yesterday, and relegating what it has discarded to the fossil-museum of the past. The whole theory is only a theory still. But so far as concerns the general issue between the rival views of creative evolution and of special creation, of types fixed for all time and types merging into fresh types, it is enough to say that, whatever corroboration it may receive, the evolution-theory neither detracts in any way from the sense of grandeur with which God’s creative work must affect all thoughtful minds, nor promises to give any answer to the agelong “Why” that underlies all our modern cries of “How.”

But when we come to the position of Man in this baffling system of Creation, should we not expect that biological science, in proportion as its guesses arrive nearer at the truth of things, would illustrate in fresh lights the profound distinction there is between Man and beast, the inherent fitness of Man to lord it over the Universe that has been made, it would seem, for his pleasure? We all know that biological science does nothing of the sort. On the contrary, it has given us an undignified race of animals, not indeed as our ancestors-that is a misstatement-but as a sort of poor relations with a common ancestry in the background. And, while it admits that Man is the nobler, because from the biological point of view the more complicated, type, and that the specific differences between the lowest type of humanity and the highest beast are significantly large, it is not prepared on that account to spare our feelings. There may have been a series of animal types representing a slow gradation between ape and man, which have perished, according to the Darwinian law, only because their mixed characteristics did not qualify them to survive-types, you may suppose, that had just not enough tail to clamber up a tree when attacked, just not enough brain to dig themselves in behind it. Man’s title to live would thus, after all, be little better than an accident. Or, on the Lamarckian view, this noble and complex structure, the human body, may have only been called into existence, through generations of struggle, by an automatic response to the exigencies of our environment. And, whatever more modern reconciliation or rehandling of these views be the dominant hypothesis, it is at least clear that on the evolution theory Man’s physical structure is not the sudden miracle of intrusion upon Nature that our ancestors have deemed it; the human race has made good only on the same terms as the other dominating species, and by weapons analogous to theirs; and, if Man has become Lord of Creation, it would seem that he has won his position as the optimists says Britain won her Empire-only in a fit of absent-mindedness. We cannot even say that it was the human intellect, as such, which secured the- triumph. Rather, it may have been an instinctive movement which called forth the first complications of our psychology, even the first elements of our civilisation-a movement as instinctive as that which turned the beaver into an architect and the hunted stag into a strategist.

If it can be proved, so far as such matters are capable of proof, that Man’s early development is thus parallel with that of the brute busts, is there anything left to us in Virtue of which we can call Man the master-not merely the highest product, not merely de facto the tyrant, but by God-given right the true Lord and Master of Creation? There is. Run “instinct” for all it is worth; show how Man’s delicate sensibility in a thousand directions is but the hypertrophy of such instinct; collect whatever instances you will of inherited tendencies, of herd-psychology, and the rest of it-you will come up against a specific difference between man and brute which eludes all materialist explanation: I mean the reflective reason. When your attention, instead of being directed towards some object outside yourself is directed towards yourself as thinking or towards your own thinking process, that is the work of the intellect, that is Man’s special prerogative. When Adam awoke in the garden, we dare not guess what monstrous forms of animal life, what wealth of vegetation our world has forgotten, his eye may have lighted upon. But we do know what was his strangest adventure, because it was an adventure he shared with none of his fellow-tenants in Paradise. His strangest adventure was when he met himself.

Here at least, wherever else you trace continuity, discontinuity begins. The difference between dead matter and living, the difference between unconscious life and life that is sensitive, are not more absolute than the difference between the living thing that can feel and the living thing that can reflect upon its feelings. The phenomenon of the intellect, considered in itself, is not subject to any material laws or susceptible of any material explanation. As a mere matter of psychological analysis this phenomenon, whatever we make of it, is an intrusion upon the brute creation, a sudden epiphany of the immaterial world within the material horizon. Man is the object of his own thought, and in the direction of that act he borrows nothing whatever from his material surroundings. There you have the casket in which the secret of Man’s identity is locked up, beyond the reach of all biological speculation.

And it is because the impressions Man receives through his senses are not simply isolated impressions that die and pass, are not simply stored up by a pigeon-hole system of unconscious association, but related and digested in his thought by the work of the independent, organising intellect, that Man is master of Creation still. He alone is the spectator of all time; him alone the music of the spheres has for audience. The buffets of experience from without are no longer mere chisel-blows that blindly fashion the evolution of the type; they are transmuted into terms of spiritual experience, and become part of the individual history, with its loves and hates, its hopes and despairs, its outlook upon eternity. The same intellectual quality which is philosophic proof that man’s spirit is immaterial, is at the same time the index of man’s place in the scale of being. He alone, of things visible, is related to the Universe as self-conscious subject to object; but for him, the panorama of Creation would, for its own tenants, be like a cinema played at St. Dunstan’s Home for the Blind.

Is Man a development of the beast? Why, certainly. Did you not know that you were a brute once? That when your bodily frame first came into existence, you had no right to be thought higher in the scale of creation, more precious in the sight of God, than the unborn young of an animal? We did not need Weismann to tell us that one acquired characteristic cannot be inherited, the characteristic of being a rational creature. We knew that God first formed Man of the slime of the earth-of one kindred with the beasts that perish, and only afterwards, only when God breathed into his face the breath of life, did he become a living soul. And if it should prove that our bodies, this slime we were formed from, is part of a coherent system of gradual biological evolution, we are still, as intellectual creatures, the enfant terrible of Natural History, a cuckoo’s egg in the nest of bewildered Creation.

Man is the pivotal creature; the spiritual and the material have their liaison in him. No discovery of science can abase Man’s dignity, so long as his mind rests in that truth, and his will in that high ambition.

II

THE WILL

It must be obvious to anybody that a man’s actions are in great part d etermined for him by conditions for which he is not then and there to blame; sometimes, for which he is not to blame at all. Suppose a man who is born of an unhealthy stock, so that he has a morbid strain in his very blood; suppose him brought up in a home and among companions whose influence over him is all evil; suppose that by a long course of vicious living he has fallen into fixed habits of selfindulgence. When that man tosses off, with already trembling fingers, the last glass of drink that nerves him to go out and commit a murder, can we really call his action free? Does it really differ in kind from the instinctive fury with which the madman turns against his captors, or the lion falls upon its prey?

The answer to that is a blinding, overpowering conviction of the human conscience. We believe the actions of the lower animals to be determined for them, wholly and completely, by instinct and by training and by circumstance, even when they seem most faithfully to parody the deliberate decisions of Man.

I do not say that whenever a man acts freely he is conscious at the moment of free action, On the contrary, it generally feels at the moment as if the motive which induces us to act as we do, rightly or wrongly, were a tyrannous influence from which we cannot escape. But when the action is complete, whether it is our own or that of another, we do get the sense that, if the agent had wished, he could have acted differently-”I oughtn’t to have said that,” “he had no right to behave as he did.” That means that the action was not determined but free, and we testify to our belief in the responsibility of the human agent whenever we think of reward, or of punishment. It is fatal to be misled into explaining away the concepts you find in your experience.”After all,” people say, “what do we mean by a reward? Isn’t it simply a bribe to make people do the same again, just what we do when we give a dog a biscuit to make it doa trick? And a punishment,” they say, “Isn’t it simply a threat to prevent peopledoing the same thing again, just “what do we mean by a reward? Isn’t a fresh moleskin nailed on a barn door, to teach the other moles not to come rooting about our property?” That isn’t true. We bribe animals, we threaten animals, but it is only men that we punish, and only men that we reward.

I am a schoolmaster. Supposing there are three boys in my form who don’t know their lesson. One of them says he really worked his hardest, but couldn’t make head nor tail of it; and I’m inclined to believe him. The second forgot, simply forgot, that any lesson had been set. The third, it is clear, has simply been slacking. Well, it may be that in the interests of discipline I make them all write out the English of the lesson three times. But in the case of the first I am simply doing it for his education, so as to impress on his memory what he has failed to impress on it for himself: in the case of the second, I am simply correcting him; I don’t blame him for his forgetfulness, but I’m going to give him a lesson which will make him less forgetful in future. It is with the third and only with the third-the boy who could have done better than he did- that my action can be properly described as punishment.

But of course your modern psycholo gist will think that all this is a very superficial analysis. “Are you quite sure,” he says, “that you’ve diagnosed your feelings rightly? In the last few years we’ve come to know much more about the curious little kinks and twists which are to be found in the make-up even of a sane, ordinary mind. Sometimes we can explain these things: a shock, for example, experienced in boyhood, may make a man nervous about fire or afraid of the dark or something of that kind; the impression left by the experience has lingered on in his subconsciousness long after, it may be, the actual memory of the incident has passed from him. Since our minds are so curiously constructed, may it not be that the conscience you tell us of is, after all, one of these illusions? That the scoldings and the whackings and the standings in the corner which have been inflicted on us when we were young have produced in us the illusion that we are responsible for our faults, when really our actions were all determined by heredity, by environment, by instinctive movements? After all, your priests (they tell us) come across plenty of scrupulous people who think some action of theirs was voluntary when in reality it’s quite plain that it wasn’t. If we can make such mistakes once, why not always? If we are sometimes wrong in thinking that we acted freely, isn’t it possible that we are always wrong?”

The answer to that is, No. The human mind cannot simply invent; cannot think without having the material for its thought supplied to it by experience. And if the doctrine of determinism is true, and there has been no such thing in all human history as a free act, then the very idea of free action is one the human mind could not have conceived for itself. I quite admit that, knowing in your experience what it is to sin, you may sometimes through scrupulousness give a wrong label to this or that action, and suppose it to be a sin when it was really only a mistake. But you couldn’t even wrongly suppose it to be a sin if there weren’t such an experience as sin, or if that experience had not been felt by the human race. I can mistake Mrs. Brown, whom I know, for Mrs. Smith, whom I know, but I can’t mistake her for Mrs. Jones, whom I don’t know- even a wrong judgment must somewhere have a basis in reality. If you break your hostess’s best sugar- basin by some quite unavoidable accident, you have a feeling at the time that is very much like remorse you feel after committing a guilty action. That’s a mistake. But you couldn’t mistake your feeling for remorse unless you had learned, somehow, to attach a meaning to the word “remorse.”

I don’t mean to say that, when you have thus vindicated the freedom of the will, the problem of free will is an easy one, even in psychology. We say, “What motive induced you to be so cruel?”- do we then imply that our motives, our estimates as to the good and the harm, apparent or real, that will result from our action, are tyrants that force us in to doing what we do? Why then, we are determinists once more: motives have swayed our action from first to last, and there is no room left to put anything of ourselves into it. Or do we mean that, having weighed up the motives for and against the suggested action, we then proceed to choose our course quite independently of them-that our actual choice is determined by nothing whatsoever? Why then, the freedom of our actions is meaningless; it is at the last moment a mere whim, a mere caprice, that is the explanation of our action. Neither of those two positions will do. Just as there is no explaining of the way in which subject and object interact upon one another in our knowledge, so there is no explaining of the way in which our will and the motives which inspire it interact upon one another when we choose between two courses of action. It is a mystery, and we must bow to it. But this we can say, that any philosophical theory which tries to persuade us that what heredity, and environment, and education, and habit have made of us, that we are and always will be; that there is no room left for the free action of the human soul, no chance of retrieving the past and making good once more; that, consequently, men cannot, just as animals cannot, be in the true sense rewarded or punished for their actions, but only bribed into repeating their good actions, or deterred from repeating their bad actions-such a philosophical theory, I say, is false to the whole of our moral experience, and inconsistent with the first principles of Christianity. It may be easy enough to accommodate it to the dark, fatalistic religions of the East, to Western imitations of them; but the religion which Jesus Christ founded appeals to Man as a free agent, responsible for the use he makes of his opportunities and for the choice of his eternal destiny. Even the lost souls in hell have this dignity, that they are where they are of their own choice.

III

THE FALL

The Book of Genesis gives us a picture of Man at his first beginnings as a prince exiled from his heritage; Science, dealing with the same period, gives us a picture of Man as a baby, first groping his way, then beginning to find himself, then growing and developing by gradual upward stages into the self-appointed dictator of a world that has bowed to his cunning. Let us understand that the issue here is not concerned with a mere question of historical fact. We do not expect science to deal with questions of historical fact. When the biologists started out to give us an account of our origins, we did not expect them to discover for us the remains of rudimentary legs in the serpent. When we sent the archaeologists exploring, we did not expect them to return in triumph with a fossil apple, bearing unmistakeable marks of a bite on each side. If there were any contemporary records by which to assess the value of the story of Genesis, it would be to the historian, not to the sciences, that we should look for guidance. Nor are we likely to quarrel with the man of science if he discovers, or if he conjectures, that the earliest human creatures of whom he is able to find any traces were degraded bushmen instead of halfheroic beings. It was Rousseau who believed in the “noble savage,” the unspoilt child of nature from whom our civilisation has degenerated. Christianity did not expect Man, after the Fall, to be such a character as that. Whatever gifts Adam possessed in the time of his innocence that were superior to yours and mine, were forfeited, absolutely and finally, by the Fall; and it is no news to us that our civilisation, where it is true to itself, has left Cain and Lamech behind.

In fact, our position is not that of people who suppose that the story of our race involves an early degeneration from a high to a low standard of morals or of culture. The failure of Christian doctrine to fall into line with the theories of the evolutionist lies deeper than that. This is where the quarrel lies. If the story of the Fall is true, then the human conscience-and since we are all sinners, the human consciousness of sin- must be present in Man from his very first beginnings. However much our moral standards may have changed in their particular application-as, for instance, in the setting of a higher value on human life-Man has always had the power to realise that he is sinning when he sins, and the knowledge that such conduct is contrary to the law of his Creator and the terms of his creation. But if human history is to be brought into line with the whole history of animal life on our planet, then we should expect that the knowledge of God and the consciousness of sin developed gradually in Man’s soul, just as certain capacities-the capacity, for instance, to stand upright on two legs-would be supposed to have developed gradually in his body. And, further, those keener moral perceptions ought somehow to have been developed by him in the course of his struggle for existence, in answer to the needs of his surroundings, or as the title by which the race continues to persist in a world where the weakest goes to the wall.

Now, supposing that Divine revelation had told us nothing at all about the dawn of human experience, and that we were left entirely to the guesses of the biologist for information about our earliest past, what sort of theory should we construct for ourselves? Something, I suppose, like this-that Man when he first won his right to survive knew no restriction upon his actions except such as mere instinct provided: he had no theory of controlling his desires, no sense of cruelty or of injustice; that he lived as beasts live, the blameless child of unrestrained instinct. Gradually he found that his opportunities for gratifying his desires had outrun the limit within which he might safely indulge them. Disease followed, or if not disease, at least an enervated constitution; or mere worldly caution taught him the first elements of orderly conduct:

“Philosophers deduce you chastity

Or shame, from just the fact that at the first

Whoso embrace a woman in the field

Threw club down, and forewent his brains beside,

So, stood a ready victim in the reach

Of any brother savage, club in hand;

Hence, saw the use of going out of sight

In wood or cave to prosecute his loves.”

-so Bishop Blougram read in his French book. Further, when instinct or common sense warned our forefathers that it was more conducive to the general happiness if they lived in tribes and in village settlements than if they lived isolated on the one-man-one-cave principle, It began to be seen that life in a community involved some give-and-take in matters of gentleness and of honesty. A rude compact that if you stopped stealing your neighbour’s eggs he would stop clubbing you over the head would have in it the germs of what we call law and order. And gradually, as these advantages came to be more clearly seen, and even drawn up in some code of law: gradually, as the younger generation became accustomed to the idea of selfcontrol and of observing your neighbour’s rights-when all is said and done, you can do a great deal by beating a boy- there would grow up in some dim region of the human consciousness the sense that what medicine discouraged and what law forbade was not only insanitary, not only illegal, but positively wrong.

That is a very pretty picture: the chief disadvantages attaching to it are that it isn’t true, it doesn’t explain what it set out to explain, and it is quite out of harmony with the whole of Christian morals.

It isn’t true-that is to say, there is not a shred of evidence for it; and our friends, the anthropologists, who make it their business to throw what light they can upon the principles of primitive human society, have lately given up this attempt to explain away morals as taking their origin from mere worldly convenience. Their will tell you on the contrary that some sort of religion or “magic” comes earlier in human society than the making of laws for purposes of practical convenience. The social contract is out of date.

And it doesn’t explain what it set out to explain. The sense of distinction between good and evil, between right and wrong, is something totally different from the sense that such and such a thing is harmful, or that such and such a thing is contrary to the welfare of the community. Once again, I quite agree that if you have got the idea of right and wrong in your head, it is possible to have a false conscience, to mistake what is really indifferent for something wrong, and vice versa.But if you don’t start with some general idea of right and wrong in your head it is impossible to see how it is ever going to get there. There may be precious little difference between the degraded savage who’s got very little conscience and the beast that has got none at all. But the difference, such as it is, is definite and absolute.

And it’s quite out of harmony with the whole of Christian morals. For it means that virtue-the observance of the distinction between right and wrong-is simply one of the weapons which have enabled the human race to survive: justice is simply a means to prevent the human race exterminating itself by quarrels, continence simply an expedient to save it from physical degeneration. If that were all virtue is, then we should have to say that the death of Our Lord on Calvary had taken that code of morals and written across it in letters of blood,”Cancelled.” The law of biology is that he who loves his life shall lose it. It is the deliberate doctrine of our Lord and Master that there is no survival of the fittest in the heavenly economy: that the unfittest to survive in this world is the fittest to survive through all eternity with God. There is no room for arguing over it: if natural morality is simply a sort of protective shell which the human race has formed round itself for its own preservation, then Christian morality, the morality of the Sermon on the Mount, is a diseased and pernicious growth, and ought to be cut away.

But after all, why should we expect the history of human morals to follow the lines laid down for it by the fancy of a few dogmatic evolutionists? We have seen that the human intellect is not and cannot be an incident in the course of natural evolution, but is a sudden intrusion upon the natural order of things. We have seen that mankind has again wandered aside from its proper revolutionary orbit by being found in possession of a will that is free to choose and responsible for its choice. If this be so, surely it is clear that the history of the human conscience will be altogether outside the course of ordinary biological happenings: that the human conscience, too, is not a gradual growth in us, but a sudden intrusion, part of a different order of Creation. True, we couldn’t know that Man was created innocent and has fallen from his innocence. Philosophy wouldn’t determine the point for us, though our whole experience of the moral struggle in ourselves, the conflict between the law of sin in our members and the law of grace, is such as befits the condition of beings that have fallen from what they once were. But philosophy does say to biological science, “Stand aside heare.” And while it stands aside, Divine Revelation steps in and shows us what we once were-were for an infinitesimal moment of history and shall never be again. God made Man right, and he hath entangled himself in an infinity of questions. What wonder that Man is a come-by-chance in the system of Creation, if the very earliest incident in his career is indeed the story of an arrested tendency, a Divine purpose thwarted?

IV

SIN

Sin is voluntary violation of the law of God. What do we understand by a law? Law, says St. Thomas, is a certain ordinance of reason for the common good, promulgated by one who has charge of the commonwealth. That is the old and the literal sense of the word “law”; and it’s easy to transfer that definition of ordinary human laws so as to apply to the eternal law of God. But remember, since we all took to talking science, law has another meaning for us as well. Commonly, we understand law to involve a command imposed on somebody by somebody else; but in matters of science we use it as meaning simply a statement-a statement of some principle which is always operative and which infallibly produces, in our experience, uniform resultsNewton’s laws of physics, Grimm’s law in philology, Oresham’s law in political economy, and so forth. A law, in this sense, is not what tells you to do something, but simply what assures you that something will happen. It does not need to be asserted by rewards and penalties; automatically it asserts itself.

Now, in speaking of human morals, it’s very easy to get mixed up between these two senses of the word “law.” If I say, for example, that the sinner is false to the law of his being, what do I mean? Do I mean that he is disobeying a law, in the sense of a command, imposed upon him by the author of his being? Or do I merely mean that, in behaving as he does, he is neglecting the scientific principles which will make for his health and happiness, and calling into play the scientific principles which will involve him in unhappiness, or in disease? To us Christians, law is of two kinds, the natural and the positive. To us the laws of Nature, in so far as they affect human conduct at all, are part of the law of God, and have His sanction behind them. If the effect of drinking whisky all day long is to turn a man into a helpless, degenerate, degraded being, that is enough for us as proof that his excesses, since they entail such a consequence, are contrary to God’s will. We do not need any express command given us by an angel to warn us against imitating such an example. The scientific “law” that excessive drinking has such and such effects on the system is evidence of a Divine law which forbids drunkenness. But we have also to reckon with the positive law of God- commands issued to us in the pages of Holy Scripture, or, in matters of detail, by the regulations of the Church. We know, for example, that it is wrong to receive Communion when not fasting. But Nature never told us that. The scalpel and the microscope could never have brought to our notice such an obligation as that. Yet, because we believe that God’s natural law and his positive law proceed from the same source-that is, from His infinite wisdom-we hold ourselves bound as much by the one as by the other.

For the malice of sin consists precisely in the aversion of the soul from God. You may commit a sin which primarily regards yourself; as, for example, if you ruin your health by a career of intemperance, or take your own life in a fit of despair. You may commit a sin which primarily regards your fellow-men; by robbing them, by defrauding them, by oppressing the widow and the stranger. Or you may commit a sin which concerns God alone, by blaspheming, for example, His holy Name or His Blessed Mother’s. But in the first and second cases, just as much as in the third, the malice of your sin consists in your aversion from God-”To Thee only have I sinned.” In the first case, you have ne- glected the plain warnings of experience, you have defied nature, run counter to the principles of your constitution; but that is not the point, the point is that you have broken the law of God. In the second case, you have brought undeserved misery on others, you have dissolved, as far as in you lay, the bonds of justice and of equity which hold human society together, you have forfeited your right to enjoy the protection of human laws; but that is not the point, the point is that you have broken the law of God. Turn which way you will, there is but one voice of command which is peremptory, which admits of no excuses. And whether that voice breathes from the happy soil of Paradise, or comes down in thunder from Sinai, or goes forth to Christendom from the City of the Seven Hills, it is the same voice, the voice of God.

I don’t think you will be disposed to disagree with me if I say that modern public opinion- and by that I mean the atmosphere of our time in political, in literary, above all in journalistic circles-does not come anywhere near that point of view. It does not deny that point of view; I doubt if it has ever considered it seriously enough to give it a denial, but it does proceed on the silent assumption that sin is, in the first instance, not sin against God, but sin against the law of your own nature or against your fellow-men. It is a threadbare subject, but it seems inevitable to refer for an illustration to that set of problems which is being so much aired nowadays, I mean the problems of sex and of married life. In the ordinary divorce-court case, modern opinion will be prepared to agree that the co-respondent sinned, since he infringed another man’s rights: it will, perhaps, be prepared to agree that the respondent sinned if she left her children as well as her husband-that was unnatural, they say, in a mother; that was sin. But if the petitioner secures a divorce and goes through the form of a second marriage in flat defiance of the positive law of God-”Oh, I don’t know, why shouldn’t he? You see, he was not to blame; you can hardly expect a contract to be kept so onesidedly.” That is the root of all the trouble: God’s law comes in only as an afterthought, and when God’s law has no considerations of public interest or of natural decency to reinforce it, God’s law is forgotten. Let a man drink himself into delirium tremens, and we shall all agree he is a bad man. Let a man commit murder, and we shall all admit he is a bad citizen, and the priests whose undue influence has been criticised for a century past will suddenly be asked why they didn’t stop him. But if a man cares, without doing himself or others an injury, to indulge himself as he pleases, the doctor shrugs his shoulders, and the politician strokes his chin, and the journalist winks and passes by.

In all that, modern opinion is suffering from a threefold forgetfulness. And the three things it forgets areMan’s place in creation, Man’s free will, Man’s fall. It forgets (I will not say it denies) that however much our bodies are part of the natural order around us, our souls are, from the very beginning of our history, and in the life of every individual human being a special creation, the breaking in of another world upon ours: that, consequently, Man is in a special position as a rational creature, and must not expect to have his sailing orders given him by mere instinct or by mere habit, as the dumb brutes do: being rational, he is capable of receiving, is privileged to receive, is responsible for receiving attentively, a positive law enjoined on him by the expressed will of a personal Creator. God spoke to Moses as a man speaks face to face with his friend-that is the charter of humanity.

They forget, in the second place (for I will not say that they deny) that Man is a free agent. Their heads are so buzzing with statistics about how men in general will behave on an average in a given set of circumstances, as to be unable to realise that this individual man is here and now about to make himself responsible for an act freely chosen by his own will. In God’s eyes, we are so many men; in the statistician’s eyes, we are so many guinea-pigs: that’s half the trouble of all our modern talk about morals.

Our public opinion forgets, in the third place, that Man is a fallen creature. When the beast obeys the instincts that prompt it, however cruel, however rapacious, however incontinent its habits may seem to us, we know that it is only obeying the law of its own nature. But if it be true, as Christian theology asserts, that Man as he is now is not Man as he was meant to be at the time of his Creation, then it is obvious that he cannot plead, in defence of the morality of his actions, the fact that he behaved as it seemed natural to him to behave. For who shall tell us whether the instinct which prompted him was part of the healthy instinct of the human animal, or part of the perverted instinct which belongs to a soul Satan has tempted from its firstinnocency? Only God’s law can tell us that; often enough, only God’s positive law can tell us that.

V

THE END OF MAN

You will remember, perhaps, the little girl in Punch who asks, “Mummy, what’s that?” “That, dear, that’s a cow,” and the little girl says, “Why?”-a thoroughly philosophical question, and Aristotle might have been proud of it. Our minds cannot rest content with asking How? we must go on to ask Why? Suppose I were travelling and, on landing in some strange country, saw a man working his arms this way and that above his head; and suppose I ask a bystander, Why does he do that? “Oh, well,” says the bystander, “the muscle of the arm is a most interesting anatomical affair, and illustrates very well the principles of leverage. Suppose, for example.-. . . . .”No, no,” I interrupt, “I didn’t ask how he did it, I wanted to knowwhy.” “‘The nerves,” replies the bystander, “form a most fascinating subject of discussion; their office is to telegraph, as it were, to all the limbs the orders of the organising brain. You would hardly believe-” . . . But by this time I have gone off in despair: I have been asking questions in technology from a scientist.

Science doesn’t know why, and has no right to care. But all this business of evolution has, since it pass ed into the hands of the philosophers, inspired them with the hope of finding out more about the meaning of the world, and the meaning of human existence in particular. For if we are assured that Nature presents to our view not a fixed set of types, but a set of types that differs from one age to another; and if these types do not merely change backwards and forwards, but move onwards with a kind of progress, so that we can say of the elephant that it is not merely different from the mammoth but more highly developed than the mammoth, better suited than the mammoth to survive in this queue that struggles for existence, our minds cannot but form the idea of evolution from the lower to the higher, evolution which is progress, not merely process. I am afraid that so far as the little girl’s question is concerned, we don’t know, and never shall know in this world, why the thing should be a cow. We feel sure that behind all the marvellous order in which creation develops there is, somewhere, a purpose; butwhat it is we can’t even guess. Except in one single department; there we not only can but must guess: so long as we are men and not vegetables we cannot stop guessing about it. As a great Catholic poet has told us, “the proper study of mankind is man”; and when the question is raised, “Why is Man here; why has he developed as he has developed; what is he developing and what ought he to be developing into?” then the guessing competition does become fast and furious, and we aren’t going to be kept out of it. For man desires knowledge not merely for the sake of knowledge; he desires to know how to shape his life; his right or his wrong development is an issue which is practical to him, for it is his business to make or to mar the decision of it.

If you take it for granted, as most modern thinkers do, that man has evolved, is evolving, and has got to evolve, not merely from something into something else, but from something less perfect into something more perfect, then there are three ways of going about your investigation. You may go to biological science, and ask how and by what weapons man developed (if he did develop) from the brute. Or you may go to history, and try (it’s a very thorny process, but you can try) to read impartially in that record thestory of man’s development in the last (shall we say?) three thousand years, with a few guesses about a period still further back; and you may then take it for granted that the way man has gone is the way he ought to be going, and the sooner he gets on with it the better. Or (and this is far the commonest method of the three) you may take your own pet theory about what man ought to be like, and you may sit down and wrestle with history until you succeed in convincing yourself that man has, all the time, been becoming more and more like that, whatever facts seem to point to the contrary-more moral, or more socialistic, or more vegetarian, or whatever you will. And then you publish that in serial form on all the railway bookstalls and label it “History.”

And what are the results of those three processes? If you stick to the first method, and try to prove that the development of the human races in a strict line with the principles which govern, and the instincts which inspire, the struggle for existence in the brute creation, the upshot of your meditations will certainly not be encouraging to morality. You may, if you will, think of the ideal man as a perfect physical type, strong, patient, highly endowed with all the pagan virtues-and yet, even so, you are false to biological theory: for cunning, not brute strength, is Man’s weapon; and your ideal man, if you think of man as an individual, will be the crafty, Unscrupulous, selfish, cringing, bullying creature that was long ago exposed, in all his nakedness, in the first book of Plato’s Republic. Or, if you prefer to think of man as essentially gregarious, hunting not alone but by the pack, you must still admit that the strongest nation, by however foul means it may have gained its ascendancy over the rest of mankind, is the dominant and therefore the highest type: and if anyone is proposing to revive that doctrine after all Europe has bled for four years in disproof of it, he is welcome to his opinion, but he is not likely to make converts. It is a silly mistake to talk as if, the doctrine of the Fall once discarded, it would be easy to bring human progress into line with biological evolution. As Huxley pointed out long ago, you cannot bring human progress into line with strict biological evolution unless you are prepared to throw over moral standards and moral judgments altogether.

If, on the other hand, you take human history as far as we can trace its records, and try to read it as an impartial document, you will find development in it, I admit, process in it, I admit; but whether it be in any true sense progress I see no ground for determining. You can say with some certainty that the spread of civilisation has made the human animal into a more complicated being, with his sensibility increased in a thousand ways (music and the arts alone will bear witness to that) and his nerve fibre correspondingly less tough; a higher price set upon human life, a more resolute determination to eliminate physical pain; less importance attached to the group, more to the individual; and there is, of course, much more to be said. But whether we approve or disapprove of such symptoms depends entirely an our own ethical standards, and those ethical standards we do not read in the record, but bring them with us, ready formed, to the discussion. Civilisation has spread; so do the mumps. A civilised man is more highly developed than a savage; so is pneumonia more highly developed than a cold on the chest. I am not decrying civilisation; I am merely saying that so far as we admire it, we admire it not simply because it has developed on lines which seem to us good ones-we are using a standard of our own to judge it by.

But the moment you allow people to read history in the light of their own prejudices, you must despair of finding any agreement of opinion as to what is higher and what is lower in the scale of development. One believes that our international politics are tending towards world-peace and world-brotherhood; another sees a progressive and a salutary growth of the sense of separate nationality going on all around us. One holds that our psychic gifts are the latest flower of our civilisation, and through them lies the gateway to all further human advancement; another (one of the greatest of contemporary Oxford philosophers) will tell you that these psychic gifts are a mere survival of the beast in us, and that the ordinary horse or dog is far more sensitive to uncanny spiritualistic impressions than is the ordinary man. And as to the very widespread neglect of organised religion in our day, you will find some writers who regard it as merely the backwash of an intellectual movement, others who hail it as the beginning of a purer, more spiritual conception of religion; others, again, who take it as evidence that the whole Christian superstition is tottering to its downfall. It’s odd, isn’t it, that we all agree in proclaiming that man evolves, yet no two of us can agree how, or since when, or into what?

It’s odd, and it’s worse than odd, it’s tragic. For the worl d is full of young men who go about wanting to evolve as they ought to evolve (though why they shouldn’t let the world evolve without them, if they think it gets better every day, is sometimes a puzzle to me) and to them it is a life-anddeath question, “Where is all this progress of the human species leading to?” And when, wearied of debate, and baffled by a thousand unanswered questions, they cease to worry about the remote future, and determine to let civilisation go its own way and save itself or damn itself as it pleases, what is left to them?

There is left to them one movement still which remains untried, a movement so purposeful that it is easily mistaken for a conspiracy, yet so sure of itself that it needs no programme and no platform, begs no support from the presumed approval of a shadowy posterity. Such is the Catholic Church, which has no theories as to whether mankind is moving, and if so in what direction; nor, if it were assured that there were any such tendency, would swerve aside for one moment from its appointed path. For the message which the Church of God preserves is a message not to the human race in the aggregate, but to each solitary, individual soul. Its hero, God’s hero, the character in the world’s drama which holds the Angels breathless with expectation, is not mankind but Man-this man or that man, you and I, with our hopes and ambitions, our difficulties and strivings, our falls and recoveries. “Fear God and keep His commandments, for this is all man”; the human race exists to make heaven populous, and that end has to be achieved by us singly, in the dreadful loneliness of our dual destiny. Whether Christendom is marching forward to fresh world-conquests, or whether the Son of Man, when He comes, is to find but little faith on the earth, the end of Man will be achieved-is daily being achieved, according to the plan of his creation. The end of Man is realised whenever the gates of heaven open once more, and one more pardoned soul struggles to the feet of its Creator.

Nihil obstat:

F. MOYNIHAN, Censor Deputotus. lmprimatur:

@ DANIEL MANNIX,

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis.

********

The Best Best-Seller

BY DANIEL A. LORD, S.J

INDEX

HE said he lived an hour and a half by motor from town,” grinned the young man, snapping off his ignition and shoving a loose glove into the pocket of his greatcoat.

“Probably he was thinking of a Model-T Ford.”

“What was the driving time?”

“Door to door, fifty-seven minutes.”

“Heaven help the motor cops lying in the gutter along the way,” she said and slipped open the door of the coupe. “Let’s go.”

Then, with her foot on the running board, she stopped dead.

SKEERED

“Golly gosh!” she almost whispered. “My teeth are chattering.”

‘Cold?” he asked, solicitously. “The wind was pretty crisp at sixty-five an hour.”

“Cold nothing!” she gibed. And then in an awestruck voice, “I’m skeered. Honest, were you ever in a priest’s house before?”

“Well, once in my cubbing days with the ‘News’ I covered a wedding. But the priest’s housekeeper sent me around to the back door, and I worked the cook for a cup of coffee in the kitchen. Sly always did believe that I was a tramp. Looked like it in those days. No reason to be afraid. He asked us, didn’t he?”

“Are you sure he invited us?”

“You heard him as well as I did. Of course he invited us, and we said we’d come, and here we are.” “You don’t think he’ll try to convert us, do you?”

Ford Osborne laughed.

“If he has any luck with that, I’ll get him working on you to speed up the day of the wedding. He’ll be a better persuader than I am. Let’s go.”

And seizing her by the arm, he almost ran her across the wintry yard next to the church, up the crunchy steps of the rectory, and on to the little porch of Father Hall’s dwelling at Lakeside.

“I just hope he recognises us,” she said, with a final qualm, as he pulled off his other glove and jabbed a long finger at the door-bell.

WELCOME

Ten minutes later the three of them sat in Father Hall’s happily disorderly study, with cigarettes glowing and the steam of hot coffee rising in pungent aroma to their nostrils. Father Hall had known them instantly, called them both by name, hit off a bit of their history as he remembered it, and ushered them into the library-the heart of his little home.

From a low table covered with magazines, Father Hall had dug the current issue of “The Manhattanite.”

“So you both made it in one week,” he said, holding it out smilingly. “I liked your verse, Miss Webb. But there was a touch of Dorothy Parker about it, and too much Dorothy Parker is very much like too much poison ivy. It’s certainly startling, but it does leave an itch.”

“I promise you, on my solemn word,” she cried delightedly, “that I’ll never imitate the dear Dorothy again.”

“If you do,” grinned Osborne, “I’ll call you Ivy.”

“In my case,” said the girl to Father Hall, “do you think you could with great effort bring yourself to call me Helen? ‘Miss Webb’ sounds so like a middle-aged schoolmarm.”

“I’ve got an easy first name, too,” said Osborne. “Named before the cars got famous and funny. Ford.”

They found places in Father Hall’s comfortable chairs. Inside herself Helen Webb wondered how any man could combine in his tastes a magnificent Oberammergau carved crucifix, a complete set of Conrad, a volume of Ogden Nash, a very small golfing cup, stacks of magazines, what clearly were thumbed volumes of theology, a framed and autographed picture of a celebrated actor, of a famous radio announcer and of an illustrious prelate, a very beautiful Madonna and a collection of pipes hanging against the pelt of a mountain lion.

The coffee had been brought in by the faithful Hilda, who served it with an air and departed with a gesture. They jumped from politics to literature, to the weather, to Lakeside as a resort, to the unconsciously amusing people who had surrounded them at that famous meeting of the Open-Mind Forum, and then to themselves.

“You see,” said Osborn,” spreading out his hands, “we accepted your invitation-And here we are,” concluded Helen.

AND BOOKS

“And more welcome than I can say,” topped the priest. “I must admit that the chapter was going vilely this evening.” He indicated a stack of yellow sheets resting on the floor, flanked by a platoon of pencils. “So you’re a grand relief.”

Helen and Osborne shot a quick glance at each other. Father Hall intercepted it and laughed reassuringly.

“Don’t worry,” he soothed them. “I don’t expect you to have the slightest idea of what I write. Novels, if you must know, and I must break down and confess; novels that are read by a faithful few, essays that sometimes appear under various noms-de-plume. and once in a while a pamphlet. But rest assured, though I read your poetry and your most delightful criticism of life,’ I haven’t the slightest expectation that you’ll ever read a line I’ve put on paper.”

“Maybe we’ll fool you there,” said Helen.

“Dull stuff,” said the priest.

“From you?” scoffed Osborne. “That’s funny.”

A GENTLE SNUB

Father Hall waved the subject aside as concluded.

For a peaceful moment they sipped coffee and felt between their teeth the crispness of ginger cookies. Then

Helen, always direct, leaned forward in her low chair.

“Perhaps you don’t remember all about it, but after you had finished your talk to the Open-Mind Forum on

‘Christ the Modern,’ we told you we knew you had something that interested us tremendously, and we asked if you’d tell us more about . . . Christ.”

Father Hall nodded.

“Now, don’t think,” she hurried on, “that we have any intention of becoming Catholics. “ It was rude, and it deserved the gentle snub with which Father Hall met it.

“It is a great privilege to become a Catholic,” he said quietly, “and one does not force privileges on anyone.” Ford took up the train of thought.

“We were dining together tonight and I said, ‘Let’s trot out to Lakeside and pay that call.’ And we up and hop into my new sport coupe and make it-”

“In exactly fifty-seven minutes and I don’t know how many gasps from his fair passenger.” “So here you are,” said the priest appreciatively.

“And there you are,” echoed Helen.

“And it isn’t often you have two thorough-going pagans seated at your feet.”

A WELL-THUMBED BOOK

Father Hall walked over to his pipe rack, took out his favourite meerschaum (when he smoked that, the tobacco companies declared extra dividends), filled and tamped it, lighted it in elaborate ritual, picked up a small, well-worn book from the table, returned, flipped the pages with his thumb, and then sat back in his chair reflectively.

“I was reading a best-seller tonight just before you came in,” he began, clearly miles off any subject they had anticipated.

“My dear Father,” protested Osborne in mock horror, “the average best-seller is nothing for your chaste eyes.”

“This is the best best-seller ever written,” the priest continued, but with a twinkling glance at the interrupter. “Written by the man I honestly believe to be the world’s greatest writer.”

“If you had your choice of any book to take with you to a desert island” mocked Helen, “you’d take Shakespeare.”

“Or the World Almanac,” supplemented Osborne.

Helen leaned forward once more.

“We’re really interested. What is the book?”

UNIQUE

“Oddly enough,” continued the priest, plainly ignoring her question and following his own line of thought, “it was written by a man who, as far as we know, never put pen to paper, never dictated to a secretary, never went to school in his life, wasn’t really interested in writing at all, never lived to see the book of which he is the author, and who is yet the greatest of all authors, and the man who has had the most profound influence on the literature of all the world.”

“You out-Ripley Ripley,” cried Osborne.

“And, believe it or not, it’s true.” Quietly Father Hall opened the thumbed book on his knee, put his palm flat down upon it, and, taking his pipe from his mouth with .his free hand, pointed it first at the young man and then at the girl. “The book is the Gospels, and the author is Jesus Christ. And we, you and I, are not going to talk religion at all, but a subject you know a lot more about, literature.”

MEN OF DEEDS; MEN OF WORDS

The two young people sat back and almost gasped. But Father Hall was now launched on a theme, and he sailed into it to the accompaniment of great puffs of smoke.

“As a literary man Christ is strangely unique. Did you ever notice how seldom it is that men of action are men of words? Men who can accomplish great deeds can seldom write great books. Or perhaps, in the midst of their magnificent achievements, they haven’t the time to bother producing books.”

“There are Julius Caesar and Disraeli,” put in Helen.

“Who in the world, outside of an English classroom, ever reads a novel of Disraeli’s? And though it’s heresy to say it, in all my life I’ve never been so bored as with the pompous ponderosities of Julius Caesar. He fought stirring wars, but the way he wrote them up turned them into perfect bedtime stories.”

The young couple both threw back their heads and roared with mirth.

“We’ve thought so since second-year high school,” Osborne almost choked. “And aren’t we tickled to hear you say it?”

GHOST WRITERS

“The autobiographies of great men are usually tiresome, windy, bombastic manifestations of swelled egos. And the memoirs of famous generals are saved from complete oblivion because they are writing about such stirring events that the most laborious style and the most tantalising failure to grasp vivid features can’t altogether kill the interest of the events narrated. Great doers of deeds are usually dull users of words.”

“Which explains,” commented Osborne, “precisely why we have ghost writers.”

“Correct,” said Father Hall. “Clever newspaper men can put into the mouths of famous men smart and interesting and telling phrases that never in a thousand years could they have formulated for themselves.

THE EXCEPTION

“So, as I said, Christ is almost unique. By nature and the will of His Father, a man who had to cram into three short years work that was to last till the end of time, a trainer of men, the builder of a universal Church, spending His days in human contacts and His nights in divine contemplation, active with all the fierce energy of a man who knew the work to be done was tremendous and His time pitifully short; He yet had time to create a world literature and, by the very fact of His existence, inspire another world literature. It’s simply incredible.”

In his excitement he allowed his pipe to go out. Osborne offered him a pocket lighter.

“Can’t use ’em on this pipe,” he said. “I need two matches, and they have to have thick sticks.”

He got his light and was off again.

WORLDWIDE

“I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about the quantity of literature that He has inspired. Marvellous when you come to think of it! The libraries of the world are packed with it. The greatest letter writer in the world-that’s St. Paul, you know-and his brother letter writers filled their pages with Him. Around Him was written the mass of literature that fills the first centuries of the Church. He enters into existing pagan legends and epics and dominates them as He came to dominate the whole cycle of Grail legends. He crops out in Hindu literature. He appears in the books of every nation.

“You can no more read world literature without a thorough knowledge of Him, what He said, what He did, the parables He uttered, than you can read Greek literature without knowing Homer or-and you know how true this is-English literature without knowing ‘Alice in Wonderland.’ Just within the past few years (you remember I referred to this at the Forum meeting) two best-sellers were Lives of Christ-Papini’s and Bruce Barton’s.”

BOOKS ABOUT BOOKS

“But that,” protested Osborne mildly, “is literature about Him. I’ve never been interested in books about books. I like books, if you know what I mean.”

“Of course he knows what you mean,” interjected Helen.

“I was just dismissing all that with a gesture,” said Father Hall. “It turned out, perhaps, to be a rather long gesture.”

“But a very graceful one.” This from Helen.

“She will keep her hand in practice,” apologised Osborne. “Compliments well turned are part of her irresistible charm.”

“Note, please, that I never waste them on you.”

“To my sorrow, it is true.”

“We’re interrupting, Father. Please go on.”

A MOTHER WHO WAS A POET

“It was quite natural that Christ should have been a literary man of the highest quality. His Mother, you see, was a high-type poet.”

“Not really!”

“That I never heard before.”

The sentences synchronised.

“We have very few of her utterances, but she spoke naturally in lovely figures of speech, in beautiful rhythm, or in poetry.”

Father Hall turned the pages of the book on his knee, but did not even glance at them.

“When the Angel Gabriel announced her tremendous dignity and she was ready to give her consent, she did not simply say, ‘Yes,’ or ‘Whatever God wants is my wish.’ She broke at once into a perfect figure of speech. ‘Behold the handmaid of the Lord,’ she said; and if she had talked for paragraphs she could not have indicated more clearly her humility, her eagerness to nurse the Son of God, her thought of herself, not as the Queen mothering the King, but as His little servant busy about His house and His needs.

RHYTHM

“Find me a more beautifully rhythmical sentence than this one: “Behold, thy father and I have sought Thee sorrowing.” There’s music enough in that phrase to furnish the score for most modern operas. And when Elizabeth greeted her, she burst forth in the magnificent rhapsody that we know as the Magnificat. ‘My soul doth magnify the Lord, and my spirit hath rejoiced in God, my Saviour.’ Read it. It’s free verse before Walt Whitman was thought of or Amy Lowell smoked her first cigar.”

“That’s an interesting case of inherited literary instinct, isn’t it?” suggested Osborne.

“Yes,” agreed Father Hall. “And for Helen’s consolation it’s pleasant to note that, like so many literary men, Christ got this natural instinct from His Mother’s side.”

“Oh!” Helen clasped her hands. “Think of the genius I’ll pass on to my children!”

“Poor little future half-wits,” sighed Osborne.

NEVER BROMIDIC

“The thing that I have always thought so particularly interesting about the Saviour is the fact that never in His life did He say a commonplace thing.”

“What a record that is!”

“Yes, isn’t it? Though He was called on to talk constantly, though He was reaching the mentalities of every sort of people, He never says an ordinary thing, a thing that suggests that it is just stuck in as a filler. He is a literary man without a single pot-boiler.”

“Long desired of editors,” Osborne sighed.

PHRASE MAKER

“I’ve read the Gospels through, Heaven knows how many times, not looking far bromidioms, platitudes, or commonplaces, but conscious that I would feel one should it crop out. But it never does. Instead, each phrase is as clear-cut, vivid, unusual, out of the ordinary, as if His mind were always sparking at the highest possible tension. Chesterton noticed this, too. Loving phrases, he naturally loved this maker of phrases. Christ speaks of mountains falling on people; men so terrified that they wither away with fear; camels struggling through the eyes of needles; vast regiments of heavenly angels marching on to the last judgment; millstones hung about the necks of men who give scandal; great beams of wood unnoticed in the eye of a man looking upon the tiny faults of his neighbour.

“It is simply a source of overwhelming joy to pick up these isolated phrases. He is the one author who never has a common-place moment, but who can take the most universal idea and phrase it in words that ring in our ears with a perfection of tonal combination we simply cannot forget. No wonder Lord Dunsany and a hundred others could boast that they had modelled their style directly on the New Testament.”

“You’re right,” said Osborne, taking the book from Father Hall’s unresisting fingers. “Here’s a phrase; I just hit it at random: ‘He lifted Himself up and said to them, He that is without sin among you, let him cast the first stone.’ What a summing up of a whole situation in a single sentence!”

A WOMAN’S SELECTION

“I do know that episode,” said Helen, glad to be included in the conversation. “I’ve always thought that for sheer drama there is nothing quite like it in the world-the setting against the temple steps; the men dragging in this poor woman fresh from her sin; the conviction that they had Jesus in their power; the dilemma that put Him in such a tight position; His ironic writing in the sand; the sentence Ford just read; and the whole crowd of them creeping away one by one. And then Jesus and the poor woman and His ‘Neither do I condemn thee.’ “

“‘Go and sin no more,’” added the priest quietly.

“I forgot that.”

“That’s why I added it. Too many people do.”

PARODY NOT IMITATION

“I remember,” said Osborne, “not long ago Woolcott got off a smart one on that expression. It was a particularly wretched theatrical season, and he wrote in his column: ‘Let him that is without sin among you stone the first cast.’”

Helen laughed. Father Hall smiled, and then pressed a point home.

“The interesting part about the expressions of Christ is that, like all great literature, they are relatively easy to parody and practically impossible to imitate.”

“I don’t understand .that,” said the girl.

“A great piece of literature, a magnificent phrase, so rings in a person’s ear that he can take the rhythm and the sound of the words and with a slight change completely alter the sense. Children do it all the time. I remember the youngster who used to talk about the “Hello Prayer.’ I didn’t know what in the world he meant until he said it for me. ‘Our Father, who art in heaven, hello, what’s your name?’ You see, parody is easy, very easy. But take another thought and try to put it in a phrase that will match the phrase of Christ.”

“Oh, I think I see.”

CAN’T BE REWRITTEN

“A friend of mine,” went on the priest, “was once engaged in a most difficult task. He had to boil down the sentences of Christ, rearrange them, and possibly rewrite them, to suit the needs of sub-titles for a Biblical film. After three weeks he was simply wild with the impossible job. It was flatly impossible to rewrite anything that Christ had said. His form was perfect. Any change was not merely desecration; it was a total loss of force, a complete cutting away of strength and beauty; the substitution of the tawdry and second rate for what came close to perfection. Try it sometime. I did. Believe me, you suddenly realise the sheer beauty of Christ’s literary style.”

“More coffee?” asked the voice of Hilda from the doorway. She had learned to wait for the conclusion of a thought before she interrupted. Father Hall looked inquiringly at his guests, but they were too interested, shook their heads, and he in turn waved the old servant away.

CRAMMED SENTENCES

“In a single word or part of a sentence He can sum up a whole philosophy of life. ‘Take up your cross daily and follow me’ has contained enough philosophy to make millions of men walk courageously into martyrdom or under the heaviest trial of life. ‘My yoke is sweet and my burden light,’ He said. No one wanted to put on a yoke, until one realised that Christ had chosen the neck piece that must be worn by two; and that if we put our necks into His yoke, His neck would occupy the empty opening beside us. And when He talks of buildings, we can just see the tall tower shivering as it rises on the sands, and the firm building defying all the storms that beat about its rocky base.”

SPARKLING EPIGRAM

“Now that we come to think of it,” Osborne commented, “it strikes me that Christ is one of the world’s few great creators of epigram.”

“Correct; and the writing of epigrams is one of the most notable of literary characteristics. Christ shot off epigrams and startling phrases without apparent thought of their perfect fitness and rounded charm.”

Osborne looked up from the book he was fingering.

“I’ve just stumbled on the Sermon on the Mount,” he said.

“There are plenty of epigrams in that,” the priest nodded.

“‘Judge not that you may not be judged; for with that judgment you judge you shall be judged . . . If a man’s son ask for bread, will he reach him a stone? Or if he shall ask him a fish, will he reach him a serpent?

. . . . Do men gather grapes from thorns or figs from thistles? . . . When you do an alms-deed, sound not a trumpet before you as the hypocrites do, that they may be honoured by men. Amen, I say to you, they have received their reward . . . When thou dost alms, let not thy left hand know what thy right hand doth.’”

SLOGANS

“And here’s some grand stuff about plucking out one’s eye and cutting off one’s hand rather than let them be a cause of sin. And here’s one that is the slogan for all the advertising men who are flooding Broadway with Mazdas.”

“Let’s hear it,” demanded Helen.

“Neither do men light a candle and put it under a bushel, but upon a candlestick, that it may shine to all that are in the house. So let your light shine before men that they may see your good works . . .”

“Go on,” urged the priest.

“No,” said Osborne, shaking his head. “That’s as far as it applies to most advertising men I know. They’re not much interested in glorifying their Father in heaven. I’m afraid.”

A MAJESTIC PUN

“At any rate, all we can do is point out how, phrase after phrase, He piled epigrams one on top of another. Did it ever occur to you that Christ actually founded His Church on a pun?”

“No!”

“A magnificently dignified pun, a superb play on words that only a master of literature would dare to attempt. Pointing to Simon, He reminded him of his new name, Peter. ‘Thou art Peter,’ He said, ‘and upon this rock I shall build my Church.’”

“I don’t see the pun,” said Helen.

“Why, the name Peter meant a rock. ‘You have a new name, a Rock,’ He said equivalently. ‘Thou art a Rock, and on this rock I will build My Church.’ And the world has never forgotten that play on words which runs through His conferring the keys of the kingdom of heaven, His command to feed lamb and sheep and His magnificent promise to the fishermen apostles, ‘I will make you to be fishers of men.’”

FROM THE HEART

“And there,” said Osborne, his fine critical sense coming to his aid, “is where He is magnificently sure of Himself. He talks, as I glance through here, continuously in figures of speech, but they are always figures so clear to his listeners that the thing He is explaining becomes positively vivid.”

Father Hall nodded.

“Though, like all great literary men, He is talking to all ages and all people in a language they all can understand, He still talks right out of the heart of His audience.

FROM SIMPLE TO SUBLIME

“The birds of the air, the lilies of the field, the grain of mustard seed, the vine and the branches, the signs in the heavens that forecast the weather, the women in labour, the farmer going out to sow his fields, the fisherman letting down his nets, the householder breaking in a new yolk of oxen, the bridal party and the maidens that attend it, the widow with the lost farthing and the fuss she makes till she finds it, the shepherd who owns the sheep and the shepherd who is only hired to take care of them, the man with the troublesome neighbour who gets him out of bed at night-He takes these simple, prosaic, matter-of-fact, everyday occurrences and uses them to teach the most sublime truths.

“The birds and the lilies become proof of God’s providence. The mustard seed is the whole prophecy of His growing and spreading Church. The farmer is Himself as He stood on the mount and cast the message of His Gospel upon stony hearts and crowded hearts and weedy hearts and receptive hearts. The shepherd becomes one of our loveliest images of religion and art. And so it goes. Here is sheer literary genius, touching the most common objects and lifting them to a level on which they teach the grandest truths.”

“And what genius that is!” Osborne spoke with the reverence of a literary man who is suddenly faced with a master of ideas and a mightier wielder of words.

LIMITED EXPANSION

“We should expect Him to preach the world’s most perfect sermons.”

“Naturally,” Helen nodded.

“But we sometimes forget how packed with thought are those sermons which, after all, only fill a few pages of a small book.”

Father Hall walked across the room to his bookcase and ran his finger along the backs of a set of fat volumes bound alike.

“I don’t know whether you’ve ever heard of these,” he said.

“I’m not sure,” they answered in unison.

“The ‘Summa Theologica’ of St. Thomas. The greatest treatise on God’s truth that the world holds. Interestingly enough, those fat volumes, the whole row of them, are hardly more than an amplification of the sermons Christ preached to the people of His day. Men have dug and dug, written book after book, and they have not begun to exhaust all that Christ succeeded in jamming into those brief sermons.

THE GREATEST STORY TELLER

“Take a phrase like ‘Blessed are the pure of heart, for they shall see God.’ You could spend a lifetime explaining and amplifying that and at the end have failed to exhaust its meaning. Here’s a little book (over three hundred pages) which really does nothing more than explain what Christ crammed into the phrase ‘I am the vine, you are the branches.’ Sometime I’ll tell you about the glorious doctrine of the Mystical Body.”

“I’d like to hear it,” said Helen, evidently speaking for both.

“Any third-rate writer can be prolix and verbose. It takes a genius to pack thought into a few words. And Christ did just that.”

“What a short-story writer He would have been!” exclaimed Osborne. “Why Maupassant and O. Henry wouldn’t have been in His class.”

Father Hall’s eyes fairly gleamed.

“In view of the fact that He actually wrote the world’s greatest short story you are hardly making an overstatement.”

“You mean-”

“The story of the Prodigal Son,” said Helen quietly but with an air of certainty. Father Hall nodded.

“There is simply everything in that one story-broad human appeal, fundamental human qualities, conflict, compression, suspense, adventure, father love, youthful caprice, irony in the conduct of the brother, and the smashing climax of the final sentences, ‘For this thy brother was dead and is come to life again; he was lost, and is found.”

SOURCE MATERIAL

“I’ve always been deeply interested in that story,” said Helen, “simply because it seems to me that no story in the world (except possibly the story of Cinderella, and I’m not sure that is the case), has been the basis for so many different treatments. I know that just in the last few years it has been a spectacle on Broadway, a great motion picture, a novel, a modernised novel, and goodness knows how many poems and short stories.”

“And its appeal will last as long as young men run wild and the hearts of mothers and fathers are torn with grief.”

“As you’ve been talking, I’ve been reading it again,” said Osborne. “Once more, it has all the compression of Maupassant, increased a score of times, plus the continued forward movement of Kipling at his best. I’d never realised before what magnificent story telling, what sheer narrative this is.”

OTHER TALES

“And because it is such an outstanding story, we forgot the other stories almost as good. There is the story of the man who rents out his vineyard; the story of the man who invites his friends to supper; the intense little domestic drama of the wise and the foolish virgins; and the magnificent story that put a new word into world language and a new virtue into human hearts, the story of the Good Samaritan. The prolix writers who take a thousand words to depict a smile and five thousand to cover an episode could do very well to go back and study the masterly economy practised by Christ when He had a story to tell.”

REPARTEE

They sat for a moment in thoughtful silence. Father Hall was the first to speak.

“Christ, quite aside from His literary power, would have made a great trial lawyer. No one could handle a difficult situation with the sheer power that He displayed. It’s beautiful to see Him put the sly lawyers and clever priests who came to catch Him at His words completely to an about-face. No one ever had so complete a mastery over that turn of thought that is necessary to overwhelm a tricky opponent.

“Do you remember the time they tried to catch Him in the matter of the tribute money? ‘Is it lawful to give tribute to Caesar?’ they wanted to know. If He said yes, the mobs of Jerusalem would stone Him for siding with the hated Romans. If He said no, they could turn Him over to the Roman authorities as a man who encouraged the people in their rebellion.

“It was a moment that called for mastery of thought and the most delicate of phrasing. You know what He did. He called for a coin. He looked at it with elaborate and slightly ironical care. ‘Whose image and inscription is this?’ He asked. ‘Caesar’s,’ they answered. And as He returned the coin, He not only hung them with their own rope, but He laid down the principle of political economy that has held from His day until Al Smith ran for President in 1928, ‘Render to Caesar the things that are Caesar’s and to God the things that are God’s.” And all the tricky talk in the world never could get around and never has got around that foundation on which loyalty to country and loyalty to God stand.

“And like a brilliant trial lawyer, He had turned their admission against them, caught them on the hook they meant for Him.

DIVINE HUMOUR

“He did something deliciously like this on an occasion when they came to demand by what right He dared preach at all. In one phrase He had them helplessly silent. ‘The baptism of John’s, was it of God?’ If they answered it was not, the people would turn upon them, for they loved John. If they answered it was, He would fling in their hypocritical faces the inevitable question. ‘Then why did you not let John baptize you?’ They shifted as clumsy, lying witnesses always do, and answered, ‘We do not know.’ Then, turning from them, with the divine humour that showed itself in splendid flashes, He answered, ‘Then neither will I tell you by what right I do what I do.’ And we may be sure that a howl of delighted mirth went up from the crowd as the tricky shysters gnashed their teeth in helpless rage.”

There was a smile of real delight on the face of Helen as she listened.

UNFORGETTABLE

“How I love a clever mind!” she cried involuntarily. “A man who can cut through a lie with a sentence and smash home a truth in a single phrase!”

“Especially when those phrases are simply unforgettable. Do you think a man could ever forget that he had been told, ‘You are the light of the world; you are the salt of the earth?’ Could he ever forget his responsibility for a good example and the fact that he was set up where the eyes of the whole world were upon him once he had been told, ‘You are a city seated upon a mountain’? Was he likely to forget that he must forgive his enemy when he was told, ‘If a man smite thee on the one cheek, turn the other’? He could have no doubt about the impossibility of divided allegiance when he had listened to the single memorable phrase, ‘No man can serve two masters. You cannot serve God and mammon.’”

DRAMA IN LIFE

Father Hall paused to knock the ashes out of his pipe and fill and light it again. Osborne was turning slowly the pages of the New Testament, while Helen was gazing straight ahead as if her mind was too crowded for interruption.

“As I recall it,” said Osborne at last, “the Jews had no drama.”

“Not strictly so called. They had the most dramatic religion in the world, with the elaborate ceremonial of the temple, sheep and oxen and doves offered up in magnificent dramatic rites, and scapegoats loaded with the sins of the people and turned loose to die in their stead, and symbolic washings, and . . .

“Oh, I think I see what you mean. Christ would miss one line of literature; He would miss drama. Is that what you were thinking?”

Osborne looked up from his book and nodded. “Precisely. I was just wondering how so vivid a thinker would manifest himself in dramatic form.”

“He would probably,” Father Hall said, “dramatise His miracles. He might even institute the Sacraments.”

“You’ve got me there,” said Osborne, and Helen nodded her puzzled assent.

“You’re right,” said the priest, “in thinking that every literary man is naturally a dramatist. He must be if he is to see his truth vividly and have the characters of his stories pass before him acting out their parts.

DRAMA IN ACTION

“Christ was a dramatist of action rather than of words. He created drama rather than wrote it.” “Still not clear,” protested Osborne.

“Let’s take a case. He is curing the deaf boy. With a word He could have worked His miracle. He did not. He dramatised it. He made mud mixed with spittle. He groaned. He put the spittle in the boy’s ear. He uttered solemn words. For the sake of the people who stood about, He made of the miracle a symbolic drama of the release of this boy from the bondage of his silence.

“When the time comes to drive the legion of devils out of the possessed, He engages in a dramatic dialogue with them, demands their names, cows them with a word. Then, to signify in dramatic form the essential filthiness of the devils, He accedes to their request, dispatches them into the swine who were wallowing nearby, and in a magnificent dramatic conclusion which, with all respect, would delight the heart of a motion-picture producer, sends the herd of swine galloping over the cliff and into the sea.

SACRAMENTAL DRAMA

“Then, when He came to leave behind His Sacraments, those beautiful outward signs of the inward grace He meant to give to human hearts, He built each one into a lovely little drama. I wish I could sometime enact for you the drama that is baptism. Certainly you will come some morning while I go through the majestic drama that is the Mass. I’ll even explain to you the beautiful drama of Confirmation, and though-as yet-I couldn’t marry you, I can assure you that the Catholic Sacrament of Matrimony is one of the most beautiful and complete of happy dramas, with an unseen Actor playing a most important role-Christ of the wedding feast of Cana, who is the unseen but fully recognised and gladly welcomed Guest of each Nuptial Mass.

“No, the dramatic instinct is not lacking in Christ. He did not write drama; there was no one really fitted to act the sort of drama He could write. He constructed drama for the people and the Church. He produced and Himself acted in the most wonderful drama.

VARIED

“Bethlehem, with all the varied actors who come and go through that pastoral scene, is simple and refreshing drama. The glorious dinner party of which Magdalen becomes the heroine, flinging herself at the feet of Christ, is drama of the highest order, the sort Pinero tried to write some thirty years ago and failed. The long, silent, hidden dueling with the Scribes and Pharisees is the drama of intrigue, with Christ the innocent victim. There is the drama of mistaken identity in the appearance to the two disciples on the way to Emmaus and the manifestation to Mary Magdalen when she thought the risen Christ to be the gardener.

TRAGEDY

“And there is the most oppressive tragedy in the events which lead in sweep and rush through the Garden of Gethsemane, the courts of rotten judges, the cellars of torture, the road of ignominy, and the final crushing of the hero of Calvary. No one needs to write drama when He has lived and left behind for easy transcript into literature such drama as that. Certainly we have classic comedy and the tragedy of which Aristotle writes, that purges through pity and fear.”

“I feel,” Osborne said after the lapse of a few minutes, “as if I had had an entire new world opened to me tonight.”

“And I too,” echoed Helen.

A CLASSIC WHOLE

“Somehow I had always thought of the Scriptures as beautiful but vague, and of Christ as one who had said splendid things but certainly nothing that a great literary genius would have been proud to claim as his own.”

Father Hall nodded understandingly.

“It’s perfectly clear why you should have thought that way. The Scriptures are so often treated in small, isolated, chopped-off sections that one misses the tremendous onward sweep of the story of the Gospels. One never realises that here are the adventures of the world’s most fascinating Hero, rising in a series of sharp climaxes, meeting the most subtle, open, and concealed enemies, struggling against overwhelming odds, charming as no character of fiction has ever been charming, throwing into a single episode the staggering achievement of cleaning out the temple and then in almost the next breath speaking sentences that are the essence of poetry.

“We have used the Scriptures as a series of isolated texts with which to point a moral and adorn a tale. We have seen Christ as a signpost for virtues and moral precepts instead of a Man who never did a stupid or dull thing and never uttered a thought that was not saturated with meaning and phrased in perfect rhythm, in exact words and with a power of condensation and vividness of imagery that put His style beyond all possibility of imitation.

HOLLOW BRILLIANCE.

“And to us who have to live surrounded by writers who worship only one thing, style, style, style, the glorious point is that the content of His literature is true. Half our popular writers today don’t care whether the thing they say is true or not, provided only it is brilliant. They would slay the truth for an epigram. They would kill a fact to make a phrase. They would rather be clever than right, amusing than honest, smart than true.

“Probably never before in modern times, perhaps not since the Greeks went mad over form, have we had such perfection of style. There is no trick of words that we have not learned. We can swing sentences in a fashion to make literary men of other ages blush with envy. We know all the architecture of form. We have the great masterpieces and we pull them to pieces so that we can copy them from cornerstone to highest pinnacle.

POISONED PERFECTION

“And into this lovely form what are the authors of the present day packing? Clever lies, smart dirt, sophistical defence of the very things that would overthrow society, brilliant characterisations of people right from the gutter and the lowest night clubs, morality that reeks of the pigpen and the barnyard, philosophy that would cause an ancient Sophist to hide his head, and a vague uncertainty about everything that makes us long for an honest yes and a candid no.

BEAUTIFUL TRUTH

“And then we turn back to Christ, the Man of letters and the Man of sublime truth. His literary form is beyond compare. But it is only the chaste setting for truth that has stood the refining test of ages and human experience. His style is magnificent; but His thought warms the heart, lifts the eyes, puts humanity on its feet, and turns the soul up from the earth to the heaven in which dwells a merciful Father.

“Nothing can be more painful than truth limpingly expressed. Nothing can more easily drive clever people away from that truth than to see it dressed in tawdry raiment or walking about in literary rags. But Christ, the Master of thought and style, the Creator of a new message of faith and home, and the Maker of an incomparable literary vehicle to contain it-to Him we can bring the most brilliant mind, the most widely read critic, the most cynical traveller down the world’s literary highways, and know that they will be charmed by the beauty of His language and style; but when they leave, their hearts will bum within them, not because of the style of His thought, but because of the burning love, the boundless hope, the tremendous depths of truth revealed in it.”

Quietly, as if it were a dismissal, Father Hall once more knocked the ashes from his pipe.

“You may find even the ‘Manhattanite’ superficial, forcedly clever, and terribly on the surface if you give a little thoughtful reading to Christ, the greatest literary figure that ever walked into world literature.”

HOMEWARD

For some reason Osborne did not make the return journey in fifty-seven minutes. He kept the car going at a steady though not an alarming pace, but his eyes seemed to be fastened, not upon the road ahead, but on a somewhat vague and distant pathway.

Finally Helen spoke.

“What a new world he opened to us!” she said.

Osborne nodded.

“It’s funny. I thought that he would talk religion to us all the time.”

Osborne was silent, still gazing intently.

“And he never mentioned religion. He talked literature to us all the time.”

The car seemed hardly to be moving as Osborne shifted his glance toward the girl at his side.

“When a man like Jesus Christ, without training or education, coming out of the heart of a carpenter shop in a wretched hill town like Nazareth, with fishermen and paupers and mothers of families and ditch diggers for his audience, becomes the dominating figure in the literature of modern times, masters every type of literary style, and speaks the most glorious thoughts in the most perfect language, I wonder if He is just a man.”

He was silent again while the machine picked up slightly. Then suddenly it spurted under the impulse of his toe. And as it did, Osborne threw back his head and laughed.

“And you say Father Hall did not mention religion to us all evening? My dear, I’m beginning to think he talked nothing else.”

*************************************************************

The Blessed Eucharist

BY RIGHT REV. JOHN CUTHBERT HEDLEY

INDEX

§I

THE INSTITUTION

WE will begin with the facts of the institution of the Holy Eucharist. There is still sufficient Christianity in the country to make it worth our best pains to ascertain exactly what our Blessed Lord said and intended in regard to this as to other matters.

It happens -or rather, it is a dispensation of Divine Providence-that the history of the institution of the Holy Eucharist is so full- and so explicit that no man who believes in Christ can possibly reject the Eucharistic institution altogether. Men may try to reduce its meaning to very little, or to explain it away, but they cannot deny it is there. And what is more, our Lord’s words are so plain, so literal and so reiterated, that any views founded upon them, except our own Catholic view, can only be supported by uphill labour and unconvincing argument.

There are chiefly two sets of passages in the New Testament which bear upon the institution of the Holy Eucharist. We have, first, the anticipatory promise, as related in the sixth chapter of the Gospel of St. John, and, secondly, the history of the actual institution; which occurs, in almost identical words, in St. Matthew, St. Mark, St. Luke, and the first Epistle of St. Paul to the Corinthians. We begin with the former.

It was in the second year of the sacred ministry, about twelve months before the Passion, that Jesus fed 5,000 people with five barley loaves and two small fishes on the slopes of a mountain to the north-east of the Lake of Galilee. It will be remembered that He crossed over the Lake of Galilee with His disciples, from Capharnaum, the town of His home, to the mountains on the opposite shore. There He found a great multitude gathering to hear Him. The circumstances of the miracle are familiar, and need not be here described. That same night the disciples set out to return in their boat to Capharnaum. A storm on the lake kept them rowing the whole night, until Jesus joined Himself to them, and then on a sudden they touched the shore. When the day came, and the storm had ceased, numbers of those who had witnessed the miracle of the feeding of the multitude came over to Capharnaum, seeking Jesus; and it is to them, and to the Scribes, Pharisees, and notables of Capharnaum, that He addresses Himself in the memorable passages which follow.

I begin with the twenty-seventh verse of the sixth chapter of St. John. The people crowd round our Blessed Lord, and He, with a clear reference to the recent miracle, exhorts them to “labour, not for the food that perisheth, but for that which endureth unto lifeeverlasting.” Observe, at the very beginning, the two words “food” and “life everlasting,” placed in relation to each other. The Jews fasten on the word “labour,” and ask what they must do. Our Lord replies that they must believe in Himself. They, still thinking of the miracle, reply that Moses did an equally wonderful thing in giving the heavenly manna; therefore Moses was not to be set aside unless some further sign were shown. Jesus replies that, did they but know it, there was offered to them, at that moment, a Bread which was in very truth Bread from heaven, giving life to the world. Like the woman at the well, when our Lord spoke to her of the water of life, the multitude begs our Lord to give them the means of obtaining that Bread. Then He says, “I am the Bread of life; he that cometh to Me shall not hunger, and he that believeth in Me shall never thirst.” The crowd thereupon murmured loudly, This is Jesus the son of Joseph; we know His father and His mother; how can He say that He has come down from heaven? Our Saviour went on to insist, “You need not murmur one to another; the Father of heaven hath sent Me; Him no man can see. He that believeth in Me hath life everlasting.”

Up to this point our Lord has been speaking of belief in Himself-of acceptance of Him as the Bread sent down from heaven. To partake of that Bread was to believe; to believe was to take the essential step towards securing life everlasting.

But now He begins a new and startling announcement. First He repeats what He has alreadysaid, “I am the Bread of life.” This summary repetition is a very striking point, because thus repeated it is no longer, if I may so call it, a substantive statement, but assumes the character of an introduction to a new exposition. He says again, then,”I am the Bread of life. Your fathers did eat the manna in the desert, and died; this is the Bread that cometh down from heaven, in order that if any one eat thereof he may not die. I am the living Bread, that am come down from heaven. If any one eat of this Bread he shall live for ever.” All this is verbally a repetition. But it assumes a new and striking significance when He goes on without break to say something entirely fresh: “And the Bread which I will give is My flesh, which I shall give for the lifeof the world.” He stops there, for the moment. But we are informed in the most emphatic manner that this new point was instantly taken up by the hearers. For the very next words of the text are, “Then (or thereupon), the Jews strove among themselves saying, How can this man give us flesh to eat?” Now comes the opportunity for our Lord, either to correct a misunderstanding, if there is one, or to insist, to amplify, to emphasise. This is what He actually says: “Amen, Amen, I say unto you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of man and drink His blood, you have not life in you.” Note the amplifying phrase “drink His blood.” Then, without pause, He repeats-for it is a repetition, except that the word for “eat” is altered-and says: “He that eateth My flesh and drinketh My blood, hath life everlasting; and I will raise him up at the last day.” He then emphasises the point that He means real food and drink: “My flesh is food really, and My blood is drink really.” Then, using for the fourth time in four consecutive sentences the double phrase, “to eat My flesh and drink My blood,” He expresses His loving purpose and view in this great dispensation, by saying that he who does this “abides in Me and I in him”; it is to be a pledge and sacrament of intimate union. Then He invokes all His power and divinity, as one who would have all who hear Him understand well how great a thing is in question, using the terribly novel phrase a fifth time: “As the living Father hath sent Me, and I live by the Father, so he that eateth Me he, even he, shall live by Me.” Finally, He again refers to the manna, and says, “Thisis the Bread that came down from heaven.” As if He said, What think you now of the manna of the desert? They who eat that manna, as I told you, died; he that eateth this Bread shall live for ever.

It seems as if He broke off here; for the sacred text says : “These things He said in the synagogue, teaching in Capharnaum.” But there is a most instructive sequel. Either then, or later, our Lord knew that many were much disturbed, and called this a “hard doctrine.” But He does not explain it away. If the words He had recently used referred, like those in the earlier part of the chapter, to faith only; or if they signified no more than that there was to be a symbolical eating of bread and wine, it is almost inconceivable that He should have said nothing to liberate His disciples from a mistake to which His own expressions had undoubtedly given occasion. But He only expresses His compassion for the blindness or perverseness of those who will not accept His Word. “Are you scandalized?” He says. Is this teaching a block of stumbling to you? But let me tell you that those who would understand Me, need other lights than those of mere human intelligence. What would you say if you saw Me, who stand before you as a man, ascending up to whence I came? “It is the spirit that saveth; the flesh profiteth nothing.” That is, spiritual insight alone will here avail; merely natural or human judgment profiteth nothing. The passage recalls that similar phrase which our Lord addressed to St. Peter-”Flesh and blood hath not revealed this to thee but My Father.” And that other, spoken to the Jews on another occasion: “You judge according to the flesh.” All these passages express the same thing-that the real character of our Blessed Lord and of His teachings, are, as St. Paul insists so eloquently in the eighth chapter of the Epistle to the Romans, beyond the discovery or the criticism of human nature’s native faculties. Hence, this passage has no reference to any distinction between the literal and the figurative, as if our Lord wished to say, I am only speaking of symbolical flesh and blood. After thealhqwsof verse 55, He would have certainly contradicted Himself, had He said this. He goes on “The words which I speak to you are spirit and life”; that is, This statement and announcement which I have made is in the spiritual order-the order which alone will save men-for the ideas of mere human nature will never save them. “But,” He continues sadly, “there are some among you who do not believe. . . .”who cannot or will not rise above mere natural judgment; “that is why I said to you that no one can come to Me unless it is given unto him by My Father.”

The almost universal opinion of the Fathers, the doctors, the scholastics and the theologians, is that this chapter of St. John, at least from verse 48, is a promise and description of the Holy Eucharist. If it is, as there can hardly be a doubt, I would ask you to observe how very strongly it makes for the Catholic doctrine of the Real Presence. First, the sacramental eating of His Body and drinking His Blood is placed as a sort of sequel or development of the Incarnation. It is as if He said, I am the true Bread from heaven; partake of Me, by believing in Me, and you shall have life everlasting. But I say more than this; I say, that I am going to make Myself truly and literally food and drink, for your spiritual life; and I wish you to summon all your faith in God and your trust in Me, so that you may be able to accept this new and amazing dispensation.” Secondly, it is acknowledged that the only figurative meaning of the phrase “to eat the flesh and drink the blood” of a person, as far as the Jews were concerned, would have been the deepest injury and spite that one man could bear to another. Thirdly, we must note how our Lord masses together the six assertions of which we have spoken, each repeating and strengthening the others, and all reiterating the strange and novel phrase “eating My Body,” and not merely the one with which He started, “eating bread from heaven.” Fourthly, as we have already pointed out, when the hearers understood Him of a literal partaking of His Body, He made no correction or explanation, when it would have been easy, natural, and imperative for Him to do so, had they misunderstood Him. Lastly, He appeals to the spiritual apprehension as against the fleshly apprehension. This was an appeal which both He and His Apostles were accustomed to make when a deep or novel Christian doctrine was set before the world. It would have been utterly out of place had He merely been intending to institute a harmless and obvious symbolical ceremony, not by any means so important as many ceremonies of that ancient Law which He was superseding and abolishing.

We justly conclude, therefore, from the words of the sixth chapter of St John, here considered, that our Lord, about a year before the Last Supper, promised that He would give the world a dispensation or institution of which it would be literally true to say that men really and truly therein received as food His sacred Body and Blood, as a means of grace and a pledge of life everlasting.

We now pass on to the words of Institution themselves.

Let us first set down, in words that follow as literally as possible the Greek text, the four passages in which we find the Institution related in the New Testament.

ST. MATTHEW xxvi. 26.- “When they were at meat” (or “eating”) “Jesus taking bread and having uttered blessing “(or “having blessed” it) “broke, and giving it to the disciples, said, “Take, eat; this is My Body. And taking the Cup” (or “a Cup”) “and having given thanks, He gave (it) to them, saying, Drink ye all of this; for this is My Blood of the New Testament, that (Blood) which is shed for many unto the remission of sins.”

ST. MARK xiv. 22.-”And when they were eating, taking Bread, having uttered blessing He broke and gave to them, and said, Take, this is My Body. And taking the Cup, having given thanks, He gave to them; and all drank of it. And He said to them, This is My Blood of the Testament (that) shed for many.”

ST. LUKE xxii. 19. “And taking bread, having given thanks, He broke and gave to them saying, This is My Body, that (Body) given for you. This do ye unto My remembrance. And in like manner the Cup, after the supping, saying, This Cup (is) the New Testament in My Blood, that (Cup, or Blood) shed for you.”

ST. PAUL, I Cor. xi. 23.-”For I received of the Lord, what I also have delivered to you, that the Lord on the night on which He was betrayed took bread, and having given thanks, broke, and said, This is My Body, that for you; this do in remembrance of Me. In like manner also the Cup, after the supping, saying, This Cup is the New Testament in My Blood; this do, as often as you shall drink, unto My remembrance.”

The Vulgate and the Textus Receptus insert in St. Paul’s text “Take ye and eat” before “This is My Body.” But the best Greek manuscripts and the interesting Codex Amiatinus [old Latin Vulgate] omit these words; which seem to have been inserted from St. Matthew. The Vulgate also has “which shall be delivered for you” (quod pro vobis tradetur) instead of simply “that (Body) for you.” There seems no authority in any Greek manuscript for the future tense, although some of the manuscripts add “delivered” (present participle), or “broken.”

It will be observed that, of these four passages, that from St. Matthew agrees almost word for word with that of St. Mark, whilst St. Luke’s words are practically the same as those of St. Paul. We have thus virtually two forms of the history of the Institution. Did St. Matthew omit any of our Lord’s words, or did St. Paul attribute to Him words that He never uttered? The answer is, that we are not obliged to believe that any one of the accounts gives the exact words of our Lord, without change or omission, or even explicative addition. As Father Knabenbauer says: “We gather from these passages that the Apostles were most solicitous to give with accuracy the sense of the words of Christ, but not so His words themselves; and this is frequently observable in other utterances also of our Lord which are related by more than one.” Let us observe how exactly the accounts agree in meaning. First, we have in all the chief and sacramental formulas “This is My Body,” said whilst He held the bread, “This is My Blood,” whilst He held the cup. Secondly, they all call the Cup the “Blood of the Testament: or the “New Testament.” Of the significance of this a word will be said presently. Thirdly, whilst in St. Matthew we have “Take and eat,” “Drink ye all of this,” we have in St. Paul that He “gave” the Bread and the Cup-certainly for no other purpose than to be partaken of. Fourthly, both in St. Matthew and in St. Luke, the sacred Blood is said to be “shed for many” or, equivalently, “shed for you.” Then, if we look at the apparent differences, we find them of great significance. St. Matthew and St. Mark say “as they were at meat,” or “whilst they were supping”; St. Paul and St. Luke use the phrase “after the supper”; the significant fact being, as it is easy to gather, that the Institution took place whilst they were still sitting at table, before the formal or ceremonial conclusion of the Supper and yet after the legal formalities were really finished. We have here the solution of the apparent difficulty arising from certain words of St. Luke. Some controversialist, citing the words “I will not again drink of this fruit of the vine until I drink it new in the Kingdom of Heaven” have found therein an argument against the Real Presence. But in the ritual of the Paschal Supper, the Cup was handled and partaken of at least three or four times. It was evidently to one of these occasions that the words in question are to be referred. True, those words are, in St. Mark’s account, placed immediately after the words of Institution. But even if our Lord, in using them, held the Eucharistic chalice in His hands, there is no reason for making any difficulty. That chalice was still, to outward appearance, the fruit of the grape; it was originally wine; and the significance of this phrase depends upon the Paschal Supper and Eucharistic Institution considered as a single rite in which “wine” was used; our Lord giving His Apostles to understand that this was the last time He would partake like that, or join in that rite, until the sacrifice of the Cross was consummated, when there would be what He calls “new wine”; a new dispensation and a new ritual, conveying the grace of the Blood of Christ. But it is far more probable that our Lord spoke the words before the Institution, as stated in St. Luke, verses 16, 17, 18-the bread of the Eucharist being taken into His hands in verse 19. The declaration that this was the last Paschal Supper is fittingly followed by the establishment of that rite which is to take its place; the Eucharistic proclamation being intended to be a sequel to the former declaration and the fulfilment of the ancient Passover.

Before further commenting on the words of institution, I will call your attention to the way in which they are reproduced in the form of Consecration, in the Mass.

After reciting that our Blessed Lord, the day before His Passion, took Bread into His holy and venerable hands, the form states that He “raised His eyes to heaven, to God, the Father Almighty, and giving thanks blessed and brake.” The circumstance of the raising of the eyes to heaven is not mentioned in the New Testament. But this Roman traditional form, as we cannot doubt, is as old as any part of the New Testament, and the raising of the eyes to heaven, or to God, is mentioned in nearly all the ancient liturgies. That our Blessed Lord actually used this significant gesture we may justly infer from other passages of the New Testament. For example, in the miracles of the multiplication of the loaves and fishes, as related in Matthew xiv. 19 and John xi. 21, He is said to have raised His eyes to heaven and given thanks. Neither are the words “He blessed (it)” found in the Scriptural account, but it is undoubtedly implied in euloghsae(St. Matt. and St. Mark). With what gesture He blessed the elements is not recorded; it was probably with the uplifted hand, for we cannot suppose that He signed upon them that Cross which had not yet been elevated to the happy dignity of being the source of all blessing to the world. The form continues, “And gave to His disciples, saying, Take ye all and eat; for this is My Body.” It here agrees with St. Matthew and St. Mark, and omits the words “delivered for you,” of St. Luke, and “broken for you” of St Paul.

In the consecration of the Chalice, we have a more elaborate formula. “In a like manner, after supper was done, taking also into His holy and venerable hands this most excellent Cup, also giving thanks unto Thee, He blessed and gave to His disciples, saying Take ye and drink ye of it, all; for this is the Cup of My Blood, of the new and eternal Testament; the Mystery of Faith; which shall be shed for you and for many unto the remission of sins. These things as often as you shall do, you shall do unto My remembrance.”

Here we have, first, one or two variations from the text of the Scripture. We have “The Chalice of My Blood,” which differs from the text of St. Matthew and St. Mark, “This is My Blood,” and agrees with St. Luke and St. Paul. Then we find the word “eternal” inserted. This is not found in any of the Evangelists. It emphasises our Lord’s statement, that that Blood is the Blood of a Sacrifice which marks the New Law, and the New Law is to abolish the Old Law with its sacrifices, and is itself never to be superseded, but to last for all time, and to be fulfilled in eternity.

Then we have a very remarkable insertion-”The Mystery of Faith.” What is the origin, and the meaning, of these words, which intervene between two Scriptural clauses? There can be little doubt that these words, like some others we have noted, represent words that our Blessed Lord actually used. The Evangelists have not transcribed them in relating the history of the Institution. But they have been preserved by tradition. The phrase “Mystery of Faith” was certainly a formula of the early Church, and we may presume a phrase of our Lord’s own. Those words of St. Paul addressed to the Deacons that they should “have the Mystery of Faith in a pure conscience”; that similar phrase “the Mystery hidden and prepared before all ages,” occurring twice, and the “Mystery of Jesus Christ which has not been discovered to the children of men in former ages,” make it quite plain that the “Mystery of Faith,” or the “Mystery of Christ,” was the saving of the world by the Blood of Christ. The precious Blood, poured out for men, is the Mystery of Faith. We are not bound to believe, certainly, that our Lord did use these words; we may be satisfied with thinking that they are there by the authority of the Church. But as we find them, almost without exception, in all the ancient liturgies, it seems impossible that any single Church, even the Roman Church, should of its own initiative, have invented them; and as they form part of a formula in which our Lord’s own words are professedly given, it would seem a kind of irreverence to have put them into His mouth if they were not His. It is certain that neither the Evangelists nor St. Paul have related all the words used by our Lord.

I have laid before you all, or nearly all, that is found in the text of the New Testament relating to the Institution of the Holy Eucharist and the significance of that Institution. We shall go on to inquire more in detail what is the meaning of the words,”This is My Body,” “This is My Blood.” But now I would ask you to rise above all mere controversy, and to take a broad and comprehensive view of that great act of our Blessed Saviour. You behold Him at the point where two epochs meet. That night the ancient Law was to cease. That night, the long period of preparation, of hope, of prophecy, of instruction, which had lasted from the Egyptian exodus to that hour, was to end. The old rites, the sacrifices, the Temple worship, was to be finished with; the old ordinances, which as St. Paul says, carried with them, as ordinances, no grace, but only penalties for disobedience, were to die out, to fade as the stars when the sun is coming. The great sacrifice was, once for all, to be accomplished. Tomorrow, the Lamb that was foretold from the beginning of time and from eternity, was to offer that to the Eternal Father which would for ever make all other offerings superfluous. But at that last moment of intercourse with His chosen ones, our Lord was most certainly thinking of something else than His own Passion. The awful sacrifice of that Friday was to last long, but it was to be over in a few hours. Jesus is looking forward into the vast and dark future; the future with its generations and its millions of souls, not one of whom was to witness what was to pass on Calvary; not one of whom was ever to look upon their Saviour in the flesh. What were these to have? How were these to carry on their worship? How were they to make sure of the grace that was to save them? Was the Incarnation to be nothing but a history? Was the Cross to be only a memory? Conceivably, it might have been so. The very record of that life and passion would have left the human race for ever richer; and the abundant grace purchased by the Blood of Christ would have been there for every human soul, had there been neither a Church nor a visible dispensation. But practically the salvation of the future millions required, besides an indefectible teaching Church, a dispensation of perpetual outward and public worship, and the continued renewal, tangible and impressive, of the outpouring of Calvary. Only thus could men in great numbers be saved. It was, therefore, with the coming centuries in His view that He said: “With desire have I desired to eat this Passover with you”; because it was to be the occasion of the establishment of the New Covenant, with a worship, and rites, and ordinances, fitted to keep men up to the level of such a stupendous divine interference as the Incarnation and the Passion. It was with the profoundest knowledge of men’s frame that He said they should receive His grace and His life by eating His flesh. He foresaw the daily Mass, the innumerable Communions, and the never-failing, universal, always growing, Christian cultus of the Blessed Sacrament. And it was with that intention and desire that He said to His Apostles, and through them to the long generations of the Catholic priesthood, united to the faithful laity, Do ye this in memory of Me! For the Eucharistic gift is the perpetual memorial of Jesus Christ the Saviour; but a memorial which is the most powerful of all memorials, for in It men have His own flesh and blood, soul and divinity, to rouse them, to touch them, to win them, to heal them, day by day, so that every man may have life everlasting within the most easy reach. The stupendous miracle of the Real Presence is not too great a miracle to effect such a purpose as this.

§2

THE REAL PRESENCE

THE Holy Eucharist, among Catholics, and even by some non-Catholics, is justly called a Mystery. It is truly a Mystery. But even a Mystery is not wholly and entirely mysterious. There can be no reason why a reverent and reasonable mind should not study and discuss these aspects of a Mystery which can be treated by human reason, guided by Faith, on premises supplied by revelation and reason respectively. Such rational consideration of a Mystery becomes absolutely necessary when it is the object of the attacks of hostile science.

The chief, though not the only, Mystery of the Holy Eucharist lies in the Real Presence. The discussion on the Real Presence, as I need not say, has. been, and continues to be, active and warm, within the Church and without, and the literature of that discussion has grown to enormous dimensions.

It is partly theological, partly philosophical, and partly polemical. All educated Catholics, and not only professors or priests, may rightly be anxious to be well informed on each of these aspects of the Eucharistic question. As regards theology, whilst there are, in the Catholic manuals, many details of theological speculation which the mass of Catholics have no opportunity or need to enter into, there is at the same time a wide field of Catholic dogmatic teaching which they can well appreciate, and with which it is worth their while to become more or less scientifically acquainted. The philosophical aspects of the Holy Eucharist are even more within the range of lay discussion, for it is on this side that the keenest of our non-Catholic intellects approach, and in most cases attack, this Mystery. Eucharistic controversy, as far as it is distinct from theology or philosophy, is concerned with the relations of the Eucharistic dispensation to the text of Scripture, to early Church history, and to Christian history in general. No one should be altogether unprepared to give an account of the faith that is in him.

There is no difficulty in stating the Catholic doctrine of the Real Presence. The doctrines of the Christian revelation are intended for the edification and spiritual and mental advantage of the Christian multitudes; for the illumination of the minds and the nourishment of the hearts of the masses for whom Christ died. Therefore, they must be capable of easy statement. It must be easy to ascertain what they import; easy to obtain a certain intelligent grasp of their meaning; and easy to find, in every generation, words fitted to convey the right idea of them to the minds even of the young, the uneducated and the ignorant “All thy children,” said the Prophet, “shall be taught of the Lord; and great shall be the peace of thy children.” Our Blessed Lord refers to this passage just before making His promise of the Eucharist.

For a statement of the doctrine of the Eucharist, I cannot do better than take you straight to the Council of Trent. That great Council tells us, in very striking words, that the principal object of its assembling was to root out the errors then so widely prevailing on the subject of this venerable and divine Sacrament. It begins its decree on the Holy Eucharist thus: “This holy Synod teaches, and openly and simply professes, that in the august Sacrament of the Holy Eucharist, after the consecration of the bread and wine, our Lord Jesus Christ, true God and true Man, is truly, really and substantially contained under the species (or appearances) of these sensible things.”

The words “openly and simply professes,” are worth notice. They indicate that the Catholic Church has nothing to conceal; and that there is nothing in this great dogma which she is not ready to state to the whole world. Adversaries may discuss, refine, object; but the doctrine itself is very plain. The Council, for the moment, leaves all controversy out of sight, and takes its stand upon our Lord’s own formula, which it reiterates and slightly expands in order to bring out its plain meaning. Our Lord says, “This is My Body.” “This” is the Object which He holds in His hands, and which has the appearance of Bread. The Council says, accordingly, that our Lord Jesus Christ is there, under those appearances-truly, really, and substantially there. The word truly (vere) here reinforces the word “is”; as when, in answer to an inquiry, Is it so? one replies “Truly it is so.”

The word “really” ( realiter) is in opposition to a merely figurative presence. A distinction of res (thing) from figura (figure, symbol, or presentment) is common and well known. Thus when it is stated that our Lord’s Body and Blood are present “really,” the meaning is that they are there not merely symbolically or virtually, or representatively (as in a portrait, for example), or figuratively, or improprie(improperly), or after a manner of speaking. When it is said that “the rock was Christ,” this is a symbol. When our Lord says “I am the Door,” this again is a symbolical or figurative expression. The Fish, in the catacombs, is justly said to be our Lord, inasmuch as it represents Him, like a symbol or anagram would. The priest is sometimes called “Christ”; but the sense evidently is, that He is Christ virtually, in a given sphere. If we say that Christ abides in the soul of the just man, the meaning is that He is there by power and loving complacency. In none of these instances could we say, without qualification, that He was there realiter.

“Substantially” is distinguished against “modally”; the word “substance” being here taken in the sense in which the term is used in the scholastic philosophy-viz., as a distinct, self-complete, existing nature, in which various modes, “accidents” or qualities, inhere, and which at the same time is distinct from such modes. Each thing is conceived as a nature which is distinct and distinguishable from all other natures, which has a certain completeness-as one tree is not another tree but a finished whole-and which is at once the substratum or subject of its own colour, size, taste, etc., and yet not identical with any of these or with the ensemble of them. Thus “substantially” here excludes all that “really” excludes, and states in addition that our Lord’s Body and His Blood are present as things or natures in the full and complete sense. The term has quite a different meaning in modern popular speech. When we meet the expression “substantially present,” or “substantially complete,” or “substantially achieved,” we generally take it to mean not quite or wholly present, complete, etc., but so far so that very little remains to be concerned about. And from this meaning or use is derived the further use of “substantial” for “considerable” or “important,” as when we speak of a substantial gain or a substantial installment. The employment of the word “substance,” with its derivatives, in Catholic philosophy will have to be more fully insisted upon farther on. It is the very key to the philosophy of the Real Presence.

Meanwhile, it is very useful to us, whether as against gainsayers, or for our own profit, to take our stand upon the plain statement set down by the greatest ecclesiastical authority. The words of the Council of Trent are clear enough, both in themselves and to the ordinary human mind, to give the intelligence of the faithful believer a true and sufficient hold or grasp of the doctrine. All Catholics have a right to decline to be drawn into elaborating this doctrine of the Holy Eucharist, or similar doctrines. We speak plain words; to these plain words we adhere; and if you press us and say, Do you mean this, or do you mean that? to these plain words we comeback. The Catholic who is not a theologian, or an expert thinker, may not always be able, at a first or even second glance, to say whether the terms the phrases proposed to him by nonCatholics are admissible or not; whether the statements offered to him by non-Catholic friends, or found in their books, are reconcilable with the Church’s doctrine or not. But he can always adhere to his own “sound form” of words, and to the obvious meaning of those words.

Carefully bearing in mind this plain, intelligible, and authoritative statement of the doctrine of the Real Presence, and remembering that this statement is meant for use in our own times, let us now turn to the earliest Christian records and see how it accords with what we find written in the Holy Scriptures and the Fathers of the Church. By an examination of these sources it will be clear that no other statement-that is, no contradictory statement, and no less ample a statement-can be reconciled with the earliest Christian teaching.

It will not be necessary to repeat what has been said when commenting upon the words of the Promise in the sixth chapter of St. John. The terms which our Lord there employs could hardly have been more aptly chosen had He intended to forestall the Tridentine definition. We have in the alhqvsthe assertion of a “true” and indubitable Presence. The force of “really” is plainly involved in the comparison used by our Lord, “As the Father hath sent Me, and I live by the Father, he that eateth Me he also shall live by Me.” As if He said, The eating of Me and the grace given by Me are as “really” connected as My proceeding from the Father is “really” connected with My living by the Father; the latter is a real and not a figurative statement; its terms and their connection are all real; and in the same way in the former statement, the eating of Christ is “real,” the grace is “real” and the connection between the two is “real.” The force of “substantially,” as expressing a complete, objective, selfcontained nature, is involved in our Lord’s saying a saying that would otherwise be very crude, and even painful-that the faithful are to “eat Him,” and to “eat His Body,” to “drink His Blood “. This excludes mere instructive symbolism, mere fancy, however beautiful. It involves the providing of an objective thing, and its presentation to one who is to deal with it as one deals with food.

Coming to the words of institution, their polemic force as proving the Real Presence is, first of all, of a negative kind. If our Lord says, “This is My Body,” “This is My Blood,” the natural inference is that it is really so. Nay, further, it seems certain that, in such a momentous institution, and at such a crisis of His career, when He was closing His ministry and providing for the future of the immortal Church He was to found, He would insert all the qualifying words that were necessary. But there are simply no qualifications. Bread might certainly typify Him; but, had that been all He meant, would He not have said “I am Bread,” and not “This is My Body”? Even if we go so far as to admit that He might on some occasion have said, holding up a loaf, “This is Myself,” as He might though it is a stretch to admit it-have pointed to a door or a vine, and said “That is Myself,” the actual circumstances forbid us to think He could have done so on this occasion. It would have been a very strong thing to say, of a door, “That is Myself”; but it is incredible that He could have gone on to say, “Set up that door in all your assemblies.” It would have been carrying out a figure to grotesque lengths. He would only have used such language if the door had really been Himself: So, if we admit that “This is My Body” might, considered in some contexts, be the declaration of a figure, yet when He goes on to say, you must eat this Bread, and continue to do so to the end of time in your Churches, it is impossible to avoid the inference that a real “eating” means a real “presence.”

Thus, to say the least, the words of institution, understood in their direct and most natural acceptation, signify a Real Presence; and it rests with those who deny the Real Presence to explain them away.

But there is also a strong argument of a positive kind. Let me again suppose, or grant, that the expression, This is My Body, This is My Blood, in certain contexts, or abstractedly, might be merely figurative like, I am the Door. But suppose that our Lord had said, That door is Myself, and had immediately added, “Yes, My very self whom you now hear speaking,” is it not clear that the hearer’s attention would have been strangely arrested, and he would have said to himself, What singular emphasis! Surely He cannot mean that it really is Himself ?That is to say, a verbal enforcement of the kind described would naturally be taken to indicate that what was said was no figure but literal reality. Now let us observe the words of institution. Our Lord says, This is My Body,-and whilst the hearer is beginning to take in His meaning, He goes on, “That Body which is given for you.” He says, This is My Blood, and immediately adds, “That Blood which is poured out for you.” The Greek shows the force of these declarative additions. Toutoestiswma montouper umvn sisomenon. Touto esti to aima mou, to ths kainhs diaqhkhs peri pollwn ekcunomeuou;Hoc quod do manducandum est ipsum corpus meum, ipsum quod pro vobis datur; id quod porrigo bibendum est ipse sanguis meus, ipse Novi Testamenti, ipse quipro multis effunditur. “This is My Body; yes, the very Body given for you; This is My Blood; yes, the very Blood of the New Testament, the very Blood poured out for you and for many.” It can hardly be denied that, according to the ordinary use of language, such emphatic additions have the force of an assertion of reality, of literalness, as opposed to mere appearance or symbol. The hearers knew how solemn were those words “given” as applied to the Body of Christ, and the “Blood of the Covenant poured out” for the world, as applied to the Cup. They knew well that their Master was thinking of the victims and the blood-shedding of the Mosaic Law, and of Himself as the Victim of the Law to come. Or if they did not, at that moment of awe and amazement, grasp all that He meant, the full force of it would make itself felt after they had been witnesses of what happened on Good Friday. It was impossible, therefore, for them not to feel then, and more strongly afterwards, that if He had intended them to believe in a literal Presence, He could not have used words more startling, more grave, more worthy of such a dispensation, or more strongly suggestive of a desire to be understood as He spoke. ( It is sometimes objected that the words of Institution cannot, in some details, be verified of the real Body of Christ, and that consequently the whole must be taken metaphorically. For example, we read in St. Paul’s account: “This is My Body which is broken for you.” Now, no one pretends that consecration imports any real change in the Body of Christ. Therefore, it can only be of the metaphorical Body that the word “broken” can be verified. But it is easy to see that the expression “broken” in this place is only a variant for “given “. The expression “to break bread” means, in Holy Scripture, to give or distribute bread-as in Isaias (LVIII. 7), “Break thy bread to the hungry.” The Body of Christ being really present is said to be “broken” because it is there under the appearance of bread, which is given or distributed. Hence St. Luke, the disciple of St. Paul, has “which is given for you.” That it means more than merely distributed to the twelve; that the words nper nmvn- give the phrase a sacrificial character, is what we shall maintain farther on. But the subordinate metaphorfound in the use of “broken” for “given” in no way makes the main proposition metaphorical.)

The passage in which St. Paul relates the Eucharistic institution is introduced in order to regulate the administration of the Supper of the Lord, and to correct abuses which were springing up. It is observable that he calls the Eucharistic elements simply the “Body of the Lord.” No doubt he calls them also “this Bread” and “this Cup of the Lord,” but this is clearly a reference merely to their outward seeming; for the point of the passage is to impress upon the Corinthians that “this Bread” and this “Cup of the Lord” are much more than what they seem; so much more, that he who partakes unworthily is “liable to punishment” ( euocos) on account of the Body of the Lord-that is, on account of profaning the Body of the Lord. The same idea is repeated in the two following verses. A man is directed to “prove himself” before par- taking of that Bread and that Cup; and the reason is immediately added, viz., that “he who eats and drinks unworthily, eats and drinks judgment to himself, not discerning the Body of the Lord”-that is, not distinguishing and recognising the Body of the Lord. St. Paul, therefore, calls the Holy Eucharist without qualification the “Body of the Lord”; and when he proclaims that an unworthy participation brings “judgment,” that is, damnation, upon the recipient, he virtually says that that Body is truly, really and substantially there present.

We now proceed to examine the testimonies of the early Fathers. Let it be borne in mind that what we assert is that, in the New Testament, and in the earliest ecclesiastical writers, the Holy Eucharist is called, simply and without qualification, the Body and Blood of Christ; and this under circumstances which fully demonstrate that that sacred Body and Blood are considered to be truly, really and substantially present.

It will not be possible to cite one-tenth part of the texts of the Fathers, as we find them in Bellarmine, or even in Franzelin. But we may select six or seven, from the Fathers of East and West, during the first four Christian centuries. These will be enough to show our method or principles of demonstration; and as there are absolutely no contradictory passages, they will be enough to prove the consensus ecclesiae.

We begin with St. Ignatius of Antioch. We know that St. Ignatius was a disciple of St. John the Evangelist, and that he was Bishop of Antioch-the [original] see of St. Peter-for thirty-seven years. He was martyred in the amphitheatre of Rome, probably about A.D. 107.

The Epistles of St. Ignatius are largely concerned with the denunciation of a certain Docetism, which practically denied that Christ was really human. St. Ignatius speaks strongly of Christ’s divinity and also of His humanity. In the following passage, therefore, he is not speaking directly or primarily of the Eucharist; and this circumstance makes his language very interesting and valuable. It is from his Epistle to the Smyrnaeans: “They (the Docetae) abstain from Eucharist (or thanksgiving) and prayer, because they allow not that the Eucharist is the flesh of Our Saviour Jesus Christ (that flesh) which suffered for our sins, which the Father by His benignity raised up. They therefore that gainsay the gift of God die in theirdisputings.” Here the point on which stress is laid is that the Flesh of our Lord is real human flesh, and the argument is that a denial of this leads to a refusal of the Eucharist; the process in the Martyr’s mind clearly being that the Eucharist is really and substantially Christ. We cannot conceive that a Sacramentarian would argue like this. If the Holy Eucharist were natural Bread, and only symbolised the Body of the Lord, the Eucharist could never be adduced as a proof of the reality of Christ’s Body.

Following the order of time, we will next take St. Justin, “philosopher and martyr,” as the ancient Acts call him. He was a native of Palestine, but paid two visits to Rome, where he founded a school, disputed with the heathen, and published his famous Apologies. He was beheaded probably in [the year] 167. It is in this great man’s First Apology that we find the earliest extant description of the Liturgy of the Mass. I do not quote the whole passage, but only what is to our present purpose. He says: “The food itself with us is called Eucharistia, of which none is permitted to partake except one who believes . . . and who has passed through the washing for remission of sins and new birth, and so lives as Christ commanded. For we receive these not as common bread or common drink, but as Jesus Christ our Saviour being incarnate by the Word of God possessed both flesh and blood for our salvation, so also we were taught that the food over which thanksgiving has been made by the utterance in prayer of the word derived from Him” (or rather “the food Eucharistised by the prayer of the word delivered by Him”) “is the Flesh and Blood of that incarnate Jesus.” And he then briefly transcribes the gospel narrative of the institution, bringing into full relief the words, This is My Body, This is My Blood. Here St. Justin says, plainly and simply, that the Bread of the Eucharist, when consecrated, is the very flesh which the Word of God took for our salvation.

St. Irenaeus was an Asiatic, and a disciple of St. Polycarp. Passing to Southern Gaul, in the wake of so many Asiatic Greeks, he was ordained priest at Lyons, and after the martyrdom of St. Pothinus was appointed Bishop of that great See by Pope Eleutherius. The only complete work of St. Irenaeus that has come down to us is that which is generally known as Adversus haereses; its more correct name is “The detection and refutation of false Gnosis,” or Gnosticism. He died A.D. 202. His argument against the Gnostics leads to a clear statement on the Real Presence.

It was a feature of the error of these rationalising heretics that Jesus was denied to be the Son of God, or the Word of God the Creator-the real “Creator” of things visible being in their view the spirit called the Demiurge. He therefore argues: “How shall they feel assured that that Bread over which thanksgiving has been made” (the phrase here is the very expression of St. Justin) “is the Body of their Lord, and the Chalice of His Blood, if they do not declare Him the Son of the world’s Creator?” His reasoning is that if the change of the Bread into the Body of the Lord depends, as it does, upon the power of Jesus, any theory which denies the power of Jesus over the material world will necessarily refuse to recognise this Eucharistic change; but that the Bread really does become the Body of the Lord is a tenet of Christian faith, professed even by the Gnostics themselves; therefore their refusal to admit that Jesus is the true Son of the Father and the Word of the world’s Creator is against the Faith. It is not the argument against Gnosticism which here concerns us, but the undesigned proof of the belief in the Real Presence. This belief, here stated without qualification, is expressed in equally plain terms in several other passages of St. Irenaeus.

The great African presbyter Tertullian, who lived till the fortieth year of the third century, unfortunately fell into the errors of the Montanists; but his testimony as to the Real Presence is unequivocal. We will only cite two short passages. In his tract De Idololatria he inveighs against the impiety of certain Christians who persist in the unlawful business of the fabrication of idols, and yet presume to approach the Holy Communion. All who have any zeal for the faith, he says, must mourn that a Christian “should approach those hands to the Body of the Lord which bestow bodies on demons.” And in the writing which is entitled De Pudicitid, a production of his Montanist period, he speaks thus of the Prodigal Son: “He then also first receives the ring, by which when questioned he seals his plighted faith, and so next is fed on the fatness of the Body of the Lord, the Eucharist to wit.” The ring and seal evidently refer to Baptism; although there is no authority for supposing that it was ever a part of the Baptismal rite to invest with a ring. But Baptism was enlistment in the army of the faithful, and corresponded to the “ring” mentioned in the parable. Then the neophyte is fed with what the writer calls, in his strong and somewhat crude style, the “fatness of the Body of the Lord “ (opimitate Domini corporis), “that is, the Eucharist.” The Eucharist is thus termed, without qualification, the Body of the Lord.

Origen, the greatest genius of the Greek patristic host, lived about the same time as Tertullian; he died A.D. 254 He represents the tradition of the great Church of Alexandria. The passages in which he calls the Holy Eucharist the Body of the Lord are too numerous even to refer to. Let the following suggestive citations suffice. He thus writes in his treatise Against Celsus: “Let Celsus, as being ignorant of God, render Eucharistic gifts to demons; but we, giving thanks to the Maker of all things, do also eat the loaves that have been offered with thanksgiving and prayer over the gifts (loaves) now become by prayer a holy Body-holy, and making holy those who use it with salutary purpose.” The phrase a “holy Body” may be also translated, “a Body, a holy thing” ( swma . . . agionti). There was no need for the Apologist to say whose Body it was. Let us observe that he says that, in the Eucharist, the Bread “becomes,” or “is made,” the Body. In another of his writings we find the well-known passage in which he refers to the dropping of a particle of the consecrated Host. “You who have been accustomed,” he says, “to be present at the Divine mysteries, know that when you receive the Body of the Lord, you take care with all caution and veneration lest any part thereof, however small, should fall, lest any portion of the consecrated gift should be lost.” Finally, in his commentaries in the Prophet Jeremias, he thus refers to the Easter Communion “If thou wilt go up with Christ to celebrate the passover, He will both give to thee that Bread of benediction His own Body and will vouchsafe to thee His own Blood” .

St. Cyprian, in whose strong personality and wonderful gift of speech is impersonated the Carthaginian Church of the third century, was martyred A.D. 258 four years after the death of Origen. He did not write in defence of the doctrine of the Real Presence, any more than the other ecclesiastical writers of his age. But we find in his eloquent remains the clearest undesigned proof that, in his day and in his sphere of Catholicism, the Holy Eucharist was named without qualification, the Body and Blood of the Lord. For example: we find him in Epistle x. reproving certain presbyters for being too easy with the Lapsed. “These presbyters,” he says, “before penance has been undergone, before confession has been made . . . before hands have been imposed by the Bishops and clergy unto penitence, dare . . . to give them the Eucharist, that is, to profane the holy Body of the Lord.” Another subject frequently treated by the holy Bishop is the preparation of the faithful for the trials of martyrdom. Above all, he says, they must receive Holy Communion¾ “for how can we teach them, or urge them, to shed their blood, if we refuse them, when on the eve of the combat, the blood of Christ?” In another passage he plainly refers to the custom then prevailing of receiving the Holy Communion in the right hand-”Let us arm our right hand with the sword of the Spirit, that it may courageously reject the fatal sacrifices; that it may remember the Eucharist, and that as it has received the Body of the Lord it may embrace Him, and so at the last day receive from the Lord the reward of a heavenly crown.” There is yet another topic which gives St. Cyprian an occasion of testifying on the Real Presence. It was very common in those days of heathen domination for weak Christians to deny their faith by partaking of things offered to idols-which, as he expresses it, was equivalent to worshipping at the altar of devils. Of these fallen brethren he says that it frequently happened that they came straight from these abominations to holy Communion-”Returning from the devil’s altars, they come, with hands unclean and still reeking, unto the holy thing of the Lord . . . they invade (or fall with violence upon) the Body of the Lord.” . . .”Violence is offered to His body and blood, and they now sin more against the Lord with hands and mouth than when they denied Him.”

All these very plain and clear testimonies are taken from the words of those who wrote during the period of the persecutions. We may now bring forward one or two witnesses from the great age of the Doctors of the Church which begins with St. Cyril of Jerusalem (386) and ends with St. Leo the Great (461).

We may begin by drawing attention to the Council of Nicaea itself. Any expression which is incorporated in the text of this great Council is, without doubt, a Catholic expression. The Council says “Neither Canon nor custom has handed down that those who have not authority to offer should give the Body of Christ to those who do offer.” The Canon cited forbids deacons to give the holy Communion to priests; and so we have the unqualified expression “the Body of Christ,” as an equivalent for the holy Eucharist. Is it possible to doubt that, in those days, every Catholic called the Eucharist the Body of Christ? St. Cyril of Jerusalem was Bishop of that city for thirty-five years, but of these he passed sixteen in exile. He died A.D. 386. His precious volume of discourses, addressed to those who were about to be baptised, called Catecheses Mystagogicae, contain a very full and convincing statement of the Real Presence, and of its consequences. For example, we have the following in i., n. 7: “When the invocation has been made, the bread becomes the Body of Christ and the wine the Blood of Christ.” But the fourth discourse is wholly occupied with this subject, and expressly intended to be an instruction to the newly baptised on a subject on which they had hitherto been kept in the dark. St. Cyril first repeats the words of institution. He then appeals to his hearers not to dare to doubt, since Christ Himself has declared concerning the bread, that it is His Body; not to dare to say, This is not My Blood, when He Himself has pronounced that it is; “wherefore, do not contemplate the bread and the wine as bare (bread and wine), for they are, according to the declaration of the Lord, Christ’s Body and Blood.” . . .”What seems bread is not bread, even though bread to the taste, but Christ’s Body, and what seems wine is not wine, even though the taste will have it so, but Christ’s Blood.” The following Catechism concludes with the well-known directions for receiving the holy Communion; these we shall have to comment upon farther on.

We might now cite among others, St. Basil, St. Gregory of Nyssa, St. Gregory of Nazianzus, St. Cyril of Alexandria, and, above all, St. John Chrysostom. No one can for a moment doubt that all these great Catholic doctors and witnesses of tradition used the words Body and Blood of Christ, simply, emphatically, and most literally, of the holy Eucharist. But as there are many easily accessible books in which their testimonies are collected and enforced, it will be enough to bring forward, as an exponent of the faith of the Western Church, St. Augustine.

With St. Augustine it is difficult to know where to begin. In a sermon addressed Ad Infantes-to the newly baptised- he explains to them the mystery to which they have been for the first time admitted. “You ought to know,” he says, “what you have received, what you are about to receive, what you ought every day to receive. The bread which you see on the altar, after being sanctified by the word of God, is the Body of Christ. That chalice, or rather that which the chalice contains, after being sanctified by the word of God, is the Blood of Christ. By these things it was the will of Christ to commend (or to commit to us) His Body and the Blood which He shed for us unto the remission of sins.” This seems plain enough, and strong enough. And when the holy doctor, as he does in numberless passages, lays stress upon the propriety of fasting communion, or comments upon the bread of heaven mentioned in the Psalm, or explains the mysterious phrase “Why do I carry my soul in my hands,” or treats of the “illumination” which Christ was to bestow upon the world, or pours forth his heart in fervent exposition of the words of the sixth chapter of St. John, or unfolds the hidden meaning of the marriage feast-on such occasions and numberless others he sets down such plain, unqualified, solicitous, serious, emphatic statements, that it is impossible to escape the conviction, that he would have adopted the expressions of the Council of Trent, not only without difficulty, but as affording the only adequate statement of Catholic truth.

It follows from this rapid survey of the New Testament and of the early Fathers, that the Evangelists and the Christian teachers of the first four centuries were used to call the Eucharist without qualification the Body and Blood of Christ. It was beyond doubt (vere) the Body of Christ; it was no figure, but was really (realiter) the Body of Christ; and it was the Body of Christ as fully and completely as that sacred Body which appeared on the earth, suffered, died, and rose again (substantialiter).

‘It may perchance be asked why God now requires more from Christians under the Gospel than He did from the Jews under the law. The reason is evident; we give more to God because we owe more. . . . The Jews partook of the manna, we of Christ; the Jews of the birds of the air, we of the Body of God; the Jews of the dew of heaven, we of Heaven’s Lord’-Salvian, Ad Ecclesiam, lib. 2

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The Blessed Trinity And The Life of The Soul

VERY REV. FRANCIS J. RIPLEY, C.M.S

INDEX

As I begin to write this booklet I have somebody in mind. I do not know his name; I do not know whether he is rich or poor, learned or ignorant. Indeed, I do not know whether the character I imagine is a man or woman. Nor am I aware of thatperson’s religious persuasion.

I see a person walking into a Catholic church. His eye (the masculine is used only for convenience) catches a case of booklets. It ranges up and down one column after another. A hand reaches out. It lifts one booklet from the case.

You, dear reader, may well be that person of my imaginings. You have picked up these lines. You have read to this word. You were arrested by the title. Why? Of what interest is the mystery of the Blessed Trinity to you? Is it not something in which the theologians have loved to revel for centuries? Is it not too remote from life, too utterly unworldly, too highly mysterious to be the concern of a casual caller in a Catholic Church?

Am I presumptive in asking you to continue to read? Are you a believer in God? If so, you cannot say that the inner life of God does not concern you. Do you try to love God as well as to believe in Him? In that case, the more you know about His inner life, the more you will love Him, for you will discover there a limitless world of goodness, of truth and of beauty. You cannot know such things and fail to love them. My subject, the Blessed Trinity, might truly be paraphrased as “the inner life ofGod”.

I shall have to search the Scriptures to discover what Christ has told us about it. Do not just pass over the pages that follow as being a string of unimportant texts, look up even the texts which are not quoted. Ponder each of them: try to draw from each the full meaning it is intended to convey.

Nor would I be justified in omitting altogether reference to what the speculative theologians have concluded about the inner life of God. But as this is by no means a complete treatise I must beg leave to impose limits on myself and, in the last few pages I intend to write, omit much of what I would dearly like to put down about the divine notions, circumincession, relations, appropriations, operations and so on. I intend to try to show you how we, you and I and the rest of men, are vitally concerned with this problem ofGod’s inmost life, the mystery of the Three in One.

OUR FAITH

Since the second century those who sought baptism in the Catholic Church have been instructed about the formula of doctrine we know as theApostles” Creed. Baptism has always been administered, following OurLord’s command,”in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost”. So the Creed is based on those words. Before baptism the catechumen has always had to make his profession of faith “in God, the Father Almighty, Creator of heaven and earth, and in Jesus Christ, His only Son, our Lord, who sitteth at the right hand of God the Father Almighty; and in the Holy Ghost.”

That oldest formula of the Church’s belief in the Blessed Trinity has been repeated and amplified many times since. For example, Pope Dionysius (259–268) wrote a letter to his namesake, Bishop of Alexandria, condemning certain errors against orthodox belief in the Holy Trinity. The Nicene Creed, which is recited during Sunday Mass in all Catholic Churches, was drawn up at the Second Council of Constantinople in 381 and affirms the Godhead of the Son and the Holy Ghost.

The so-called Athanasian Creed, which was composed by an unknown Latin author in the 5th or 6th century, summarises in a most readable way theChurch’s teaching on the Incarnation and the Blessed Trinity. THE DOCTRINE

Every Catholic must believe that in God there are three Persons, the Father, the Son and the Holy Ghost. Each of the three Persons possesses numerically the same divine essence. This rather bold statement may be broken up into four parts:

(1) There is one divine Nature in which there are three Persons, the Father, the Son and the Holy Ghost:

(2) No one of these three Persons is either of the others; they are distinct; the Father is not the Son, the Son is not the Holy Ghost, the Holy Ghost is not the Father;

(3) Each Person is God: the Father is God, the Son is God, the Holy Ghost is God.

(4) There are not three Gods but only one God.

THE TRINITY IN THE OLD TESTAMENT

The Old Testament was, as we read in the Epistle to the Hebrews, the”shadow of the good things to come, not the very image of thethings” (Heb. 10:1). Therefore, it is not surprising that we find no clear statement of the doctrine of the Trinity in the Old Testament. There are, however, indications of it.

God used the plural when speaking of Himself: “Let us make man to our image andlikeness” (Gen. 1 : 26). Certain passages (e.g. Gen. 16:7–13, Exod. 3:2–14) have been thought to indicate a distinction in God between two Persons, One who sends and One who is sent.

The prophecies of the Messias distinguish God and the Son of God: “The Lord hath said to me: Thou art my Son, this day have I begottenThee” (Ps. 2:7; cf. Ps. 109:1–3; 44:7; Is. 9:6; 7:14).

Elsewhere divine Wisdom is represented as an Hypostasis side by side with God, which has proceeded from God by birth from all eternity and co-operated in the creation of the world (cf. Prov. 8:22–31, especially verse 24; Wis. 7:22; 8:8).

When the Old Testament refers to the”Spirit ofGod” or the”Holy Ghost” it does not mean a divine Person but a power which proceeds from God, gives life, strength, illumination and impetus towards good. Thus Gen. 1:2; Ps. 32:6 103:30; 138:7; Is. 61:1; 63:10; Ezech. 11:5; Wis. 1:5–7.

THE TRINITY IN THE NEW TESTAMENT

“THE Holy Ghost shall come upon thee and the power of the Most High shall overshadowthee,” said the angel to Our Lady (Luke 1:32–35). Although He named three Persons the Greek word used by St Luke for the Holy Ghost without the article, does not bring out clearly the personality of the Third Person. But St Luke also wrote in Acts, 1:8:”You shall receive the power of the Holy Ghost coming uponyou,” representing Him as a Person.

The accounts of Our Lord’s baptism represent Christ as the beloved and only Son of God and the Holy Spirit, side by side with the Father and the Son, as an independent, personal Essence:”He saw the Spirit of God descending as a dove and coming upon Him, and, behold, a voice from heaven, saying: This is my beloved Son, in whom I am wellpleased” (Matt. 3:16).

Speaking to the Apostles after His Last Supper Our Lord promised that the Father and He would send another Helper, the Holy Ghost, the Spirit of Truth. The name Paraclete and His functions, to teach and witness, presuppose that He is a subsisting Person:”I will ask the Father; and He shall give you another Paraclete, that He may abide with you forever” (John 14:16 cf. also 14:26 and 15:26).

The clearest statement of the mystery of the Trinity is in Our Lord’s command to baptise”in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the HolyGhost” (Matt. 28:19). The singular”in thename” indicates that the three Persons have one essence. Father and Son are obviously Persons distinct in relationship and the Holy Ghost is completely coordinated to them, a Person, divine as they are.

St Peter began his first Epistle with a blessing invoking the Trinity: “according to the foreknowledge of God the Father, unto the sanctification of the Spirit, unto obedience and sprinkling of the blood of Jesus Christ: Grace untoyou” (1 Pet. 1:2).

St Paul ended his second Epistle to the Corinthians in the same way:”The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ and the charity of God and the communication of the Holy Ghost be with you all.Amen” (2 Cor. 13:13).

In Cor. 12:4 St Paul taught that the three divine Person give three different kinds of gifts of the Spirit and in verse 11 lie appropriated the same gifts to the Spirit alone, thus indicating the substantial unity of the three Persons.

One of the most perfect expressions of the mystery is the famous “comma” of St John, I John 5:7, but a decision of the Holy Office in 1927 taught that its genuineness can be doubted.

THE FATHERHOOD OF GOD

By virtue of creating all things, preserving them and governing them by His providence and elevating men to the state of grace and supernatural kinship with Himself, the Triune God is Father of all, but only in a derived or metaphorical sense.

There is in God a true and strict fatherhood, the model of His derived and of all created fatherhood. It belongs to the first Person only. It was in a unique and exclusive sense that Our Lord spoke of God as His Father. He said”My Father,” “Thy Father” or”Your Father” but never” OurFather.” He told His Apostles to pray, saying”Our Father,” but that was their prayer, not His. He made it clear that He and the Father were identical in essence and thus His sonship was to be understood in a proper physical sense”No one knoweth the Son, but the Father; neither doth any one know the Father, but the Son and he to whom it shall please the Son to revealHim” (Matt. 11:27).”I and the Father areone” (John 10:30).”For as the Father hath life in Himself, so He hath given to the Son also to have life inHimself” (John 5:26).

According to St John, Jesus is the Only Born Son of God: “We beheld His glory, glory as of the Only-begotten from theFather” (John 1:14). Four verses later:”God no man hath seen at any time; God only-begotten, who is in the bosom of the Father, He hath declaredhim” (Westminster Version). Compare also John 3:16–18 and John 4:

St Paul argued: “Seeing that He hath not spared His own Son. . . . how can He fail to grant us all things with Him?” (Rom. 8:32).

St John also relates that”the Jews sought the more to put Him to death because (He was) calling God His own Father, making Himself equal withGod” (John 5:18).

THE LOGOS IN ST JOHN

Logos is the Greek word St John uses to designate the Son of God. It indicates a person and not merely an impersonal power of God or an attribute.”The Word was withGod” (John 1:1) means that the Logos, the Word, was side by side with God, coordinated to God. That He is a Person is also clear from John 1:11–14;”His own received Him not. . . . the Word was made flesh and dwelt among us.”

Nor is the Word the same person as God the Father. He is with the Father, therefore distinct from Him. He is identified with theFather’s only-begotten Son:”We beheld His glory, glory as of the Only-begotten from the Father, full of grace andtruth” (John 1:14).

The Word is not only a Person distinct from the Father and identified with His only-begotten Son: He is a divine Person:”the Word was God” (John 1:1). St John says He created the world:”All things were made through Him, and without Him was made nothing that hath beenmade.” He is eternal:”In the beginning was theWord” (John 1:1–3). From Him the supernatural order takes its origin. He is the dispenser of truth and the life of grace:

“In Him was life, and the life was the light of men; to as many as received Him He gave power to become children of God; we beheld His glory, full of grace andtruth” (John 1:4, 12, 14).

When we turn to St Paul and the author (maybe also St Paul) of the Epistle to the Hebrews we find confirmation of our thesis. Heb. 1:2–3 speaks of God having in”these last days spoken to us by one who is His Son, whom He hath set up as heir of all things; by whom also He created the ages. He, being the flashing-forth of His glory, and the very expression of His being.” Christ, the Mediator of the New Testament, is as Son of God superior to the angels and to Moses, the mediators of the Old Covenant. As the rays of light stream forth from the son, so the Son is “Light ofLight.” Divine attributes are ascribed to God the Son: by His power He keeps all things in existence; He effectedmankind’s purgation from sin; He sits at the right hand of God.

Elsewhere St Paul speaks of Christ as “the image ofGod” first-born of all creation (2 Cor. 4:4; Col. 1:15, 17, 19) in whom”all things in heaven and on earth werecreated” and who”Himself is prior to all, and in Him all things hold together.” “In Him it hath pleased the Father that all the fulness shoulddwell.”

GOD THE HOLY GHOST

MANY passages in Scripture prove that the Holy Ghost is a divine Person distinct from the Father and the Son. That He is a real Person is proved from the baptismal formula (Matt. 28:19), the name Paraclete (advocate, defender, comforter, exhorter, interpreter, intercessor) which is also applied to Christ, a real Person, and because the Holy Ghost is said to do personal things. For example, He teaches truth, gives testimony for Christ, makes known the mysteries of God, tells the future and guides the election of bishops (cf. John 14:16; 16:13; 15:26; 1 Cor. 2:10; John 16:13; Acts 21:11; 20:28).

That He is a Person distinc t from the Father and the Son is proved from the baptismal formula (Matt. 28:19), the sermon of Christ after the Last Supper in which the Holy Ghost is described as a Person who will be sent by the Father and the Son (John 14:16–26; 15:26) and by His appearance on the occasion ofChrist’s baptism under the special symbol of the dove.

That He is a divine Person is proved because the name”Holy Ghost” is used alternatively with the name”God”(Acts 5:3; 1 Cor. 3:16; 6:19 if.). and in the baptismal formula the Holy Ghost is made equal to the Father and the Son, who are truly God, and the Holy Ghost is given God’s attributes. He has all knowledge, teaches all truth, foretells the future, inspired the Prophets, explores the deep things of God, and distributes grace (cf. John 16:13; 2 Pet. 1:21; Acts 1:16; 1 Cor. 2:10: 1 Cot. 12:10; John 12:10: John 3:5; 20:22; Rom. 5:5; Gal. 4:6; 5:22).

That God is one in nature is a basic doctrine of Holy Scripture (Mark 12:29; 1 Cor. 8:4; Eph. 4:6; 1 Tim. 2:5). The doctrine of the Blessed Trinity in no way conflicts with this. The formula for baptism (Matt. 28:19) indicates that although there are three distinct Persons, they have the same nature. Our Lord did not say”in thenames” (plural) but”in thename” (singular). The same is gathered from the texts which speak of the mutual co-inherence of the divine Persons. For example:”The Father is in me, and I in theFather” (John 10:38). See also: John 14:9; 17:10; 16:13 if.; 5:19. In John 10:30 Christ clearly stated that His divine nature is one with that of His Father:”I and the Father are one.”

A LITTLE SPECULATION

PERSON AND NATURE. St Thomas Aquinas defines person as “the distinct being, subsisting in an intellectual nature.” It is a whole. Nature (defined as “remote principle ofoperation”) is the basic part. In addition to the nature the person includes “individuating principles” which stem from matter, accidents and individual existence, putting the individual nature outside of its causes and in the world of reality. If this individuated and distinctly subsisting nature is rational, it is called a person.

In God there are three Persons but only one nature. When John Smith is asked, “Who areyou?” he replies “I am John Smith.” But if anybody were foolish enough to ask him”What areyou?” he would have to reply”I am a man.” Person answers the question”Who ?,” nature answers the question”What ?” Every being has a nature; but only rational beings are persons. You would not ask even the most intelligent pet dog”Who areyou?”

Our nature makes us what we are. We act according to it. It is the source of what we can do. It decides what acts are possible for us. But it does not do things. We do them. The person does them in virtue of his nature.

Amongst us humans each person has one nature. He possesses it fully. We cannot even imagine that same one nature being fully possessed by Bill Smith, John Brown and Tom Jones. Yet God has told us that in Himself His one infinite Nature is totally possessed by three Persons. We must not doubt it. We are not in a position to do so; for we have no experience of an infinite nature.God’s nature is infinite.

In God the three Persons are distinct but not separate. They do not share the same divine nature; each Person wholly possesses it. These Persons are distinct because no one of them is either of the others; but they are not separate for each is what He is because He possesses the one identical nature. Father, Son and Holy Ghost each possesses the entire nature of God as His own.

Nature makes a being what it is; therefore, each Person is wholly God, absolutely equal to the other two. Each Person can do all the things God can do. It is not merely that each Person possesses a nature equal and similar to that of the other two; each possesses wholly one and the same single nature. Therefore, although each is God, they are not three separate Gods. They are three distinct Persons but all one and the same God.

THE DIVINE PROCESSION

(I) OF THE SON

In God knowledge and love are not only infinite because God is infinite; they are Himself.

We have seen that the New Testament refers to the Second Person of the Blessed Trinity as the Son and as the Word.

In human life a son receives from his father a nature like his father’s, a man’s nature. In God the Second Person proceeds from the First and has a nature like His. TheFather’s nature is infinite; so is theSon’s. Infinity means the full possession of the fullness of existence. Therefore, Father and Son each fully possesses the fullness of existence. In other words, they are wholly equal. Each is infinite.

In human relationship a father must exist before his son. Not so in God. He is infinite Being. He is all that He is in that one act of being. He is Father of His Son simply by being Himself. The Son, being equal to Him and infinite, is also eternal and equally necessary. It is not that the Father existed and then made a decision to bring the Son into being. Father and Son are the same infinite Being by the same infinite necessity. The Second Person is equal in all things to the First.

Amongst ourselves word means something we say with our vocal organs.God’s Word cannot be that because He is a pure spirit. His word must be in the mind. It is a thought, an idea.

We are familiar with the opening of StJohn’s Gospel where we read thatGod’s Word was (a) in the beginning (b) with God, (c) God Himself, (d) with the glory as of the Only-begotten of the Father.

We said above thatGod’s knowledge is infinite and that it is Himself. Only the infinite, that is God Himself, can be the adequate object of infinite knowledge. God has revealed to us that He has begotten an idea of Himself. With us, an idea is the image, the mental double, of what we are thinking about. The more of the object it expresses the more perfect it is. When the infinitely perfect God has an idea of Himself, that idea is perfect. It perfectly represents Himself. It is infinite and perfect like Himself, in no way less than Himself, lacking nothing of Himself. Infinite Being cannot think of Himself inadequately. Everything in Him is also in His thought of Himself. The thought contains all the perfection of the Thinker. The Thought, the Idea, the Word that God generates is Infinite, equal to Himself, an eternal living Person, God.

A thought has not a separate nature from him who thinks it; it is in thethinker’s nature. SoGod’s Thought of Himself, His Word, is wholly in the one same divine nature. Because it is an adequate idea it wholly contains the divine nature. Everything the Son has He has received from the Father; everything the Father has He has given to the Son. Each has the same divine nature in its fullness; the Father has it as unreceived, the Son has it as received. But They are equal in all things.

(II) OF THE HOLY GHOST

THE Son proceeds from the Father by way of knowledge. The Holy Ghost proceeds from the Father and the Son by way of love. The First Person and the Second love one another; just as theFather’s knowledge of Himself begets the Word, equal to Himself, their act of loving means alt state of Lovingness within the Godhead. Father and Son pour themselves into it, all they are, all they have. This Lovingness is equal to themselves for it has all that they have. It is an infinite Person, God as they are God, the Holy Spirit or, in the traditional English term, the Holy Ghost

Spirit is used here in the sense of movement of air or breathing. Our Lord breathed on the Apostles saying: Receive ye the HolyGhost” (John 20:22). On the first Pentecost”there came a sound from heaven, as of a mighty windcoming”

(Acts 2:2).

It is from the Father and the Son as one principle of love that the Holy Ghost proceeds. We sing it at Benediction:

Procedenti ab utroque (to Him who proceeds from Both). We say it in the Nicene Creed at Mass: Qui ex Patre Filioque procedit: He who proceeds from the Father and the Son.

We never say that the Father and the Son generate the Holy Ghost. They breathe Him (Spirate is sometimes used; it is exact, but what an ugly word!). He is equal to them because they, Infinite Lovers, put themselves wholly into their love.

The Holy Ghost, like the Son, has the divine nature as a gift received. He is in every way equal to the two Persons from whom He proceeds by way of love.

THE CHANGELESS GOD

OF course, God cannot change. You must not imagine that He became a Father sometime after He began to exist. It is by the very act of being God that the Father generates the Son and that the Father and the Son breathe the Holy Ghost.

God has no past and no future, only an eternal present. Human language is so limited that there are no words to express just what I want to write for you. If I use the past tense, you may think I am telling you about an act that has already been finished. If I use the present tense you may think of an action still going on and therefore incomplete.( God The Son, wrote Berulle, is the rising that is ever at midday. Ever blossoming forth, He is ever the full radiance of divine power.)

That is why greater men than I have coined words to tell people what they mean. Such words are big, but you must not be frightened by them. For example, circumincession (with a “c” in the middle) means thatGod’s Three Persons are in One Another through the flow of vital activity. Circuminsession (with an”s” in the middle) means that they dwell within One Another in complete repose.

None of the Three Persons may stand without the others. They are in One Another. The Father is in the Son and the Son in the Father; the Son and the Father are in the Holy Ghost and the Holy Ghost is in the Father and the Son. There is Son in the Father; the Son and the Father are in the Holy Ghost and the Holy Ghost is in the Father and the Son. There is 1445.

Remember how Our Lord speaks of His being in the Father and the Father being in Him (John 10:38; 17:21).

THE BASIC LAW

HAVING persevered this far you must be quite sure that the Three Persons in God are absolutely equal because each of them is infinite.

Nevertheless if you are thinking hard, you may think you have detected a flaw in the argument. You may be asking yourself,” If the Father has generated theSon?” And”if the Father and the Son have really breathed forth the Holy Ghost, have they not something He has not, namely that they have breathed Himforth?” Surely the Son must be less than the Father just because He does not generate as the Father does, and the Holy Ghost must be less than the Father and the Son because He does not breathe forth another Person as they do?

Please do not be disappointed when I have to tell you that there is no complete answer to such questions. If there were, we would understandGod’s inner life fully; the finite would fully contain the infinite and the Blessed Trinity would no longer be a mystery.

That does not mean that we cannot help ourselves to understand a little more. Father, Son and Holy Ghost have one and the same divine nature; therefore, they have all the same infinite knowledge. That knowledge generates the Word, in the way we have already seen.God’s nature is already wholly expressed as knowledge. It is not separate knowledge in the Father that begets the Son but the same infinite knowledge that is possessed by all three Persons and is equal to the one divine nature.

You can approach the problem of the breathing forth of the Holy Ghost in exactly the same way. The Third Person does not breathe a state of Lovingness becauseGod’s nature is wholly expressed as love.

Neither Father, Son nor Holy Ghost has anything the others have not. The whole Godhead is possessed by Each in His own way. In what is the distinction of Persons. St Anselm, who was Archbishop of Canterbury from 1093 to 1109, first expressed this in what the theologians call the basic trinitarian law: in God all is one except for the opposition of relations. The Council of Florence defined it as of Faith.

SHARING THE DIVINE NATURE

Is all you have read so far in this little book of any practical value? Of course it is. Knowledge of God is never useless-least of all knowledge of His own inner life.

Moreover, our faith as Christians is centred in the Incarnation, the doctrine thatGod’s Second Person took a body and soul like ours and died to redeem all men.

We have been writing about the divine nature. Something St Peter wrote in his second Epistle brings it right home to us with rather a shock. Writing of his Master, Christ, the Prince of the Apostles said:”See how all the gifts that make for life and holiness in us belong to His divine power; come to us through fuller knowledge of Him, whose own glory and sovereignty have drawn us to Himself! Through Him God has bestowed on us high and treasured promises; you are to share the divine nature, with the world’s corruption, theworld’s passions, left behind. And you too have to contribute every effort on yourpart” (2 Pet. 1:3–5).

Note that breath-taking, stupendous phrase:”You are to share the divinenature.” We, poor human beings, are in some mysterious way to share in that essential, necessary principle in God by which the Son proceeds from the Father and the Holy Ghost from the Father and the Son.

One of the finest pieces of popular theological writing it has ever been my privilege to read is the description by John Henry Newman ofGod’s life throughout eternity. Here it is:

“God has lived in an eternity before He began to create anything. There was a state of things in which God was by Himself and nothing else but He.

“There was no earth, no sky, no sun, no stars, no space, no time, no beings of any kind; no men, no angels, no seraphim. His throne was without ministers; He was not waited on by any; all was silence; all was repose; there was nothing but God; and this state continued, not for a while only but for a measureless duration; it was a state which had ever been; it was the rule of things, and creation was an innovation upon it.

“Creation is, comparatively speaking, of yesterday; it has lasted a poor six thousand years, say sixty thousand, if you will, or six million, or sixty million million; what is this to eternity? Nothing at all; not so much as a drop compared to the whole ocean, or a grain of sand to the whole earth.

“I say through a whole eternity God was by Himself, with no other being but Himself; with nothing external to Him self, not working, but at rest, not speaking nor receiving homage from any, not glorified in creatures, but blessed in Himself and by Himself and wantingnothing.” We have already seen that in that endless timeless eternity God was infinite in His activity. He rejoiced in the knowledge of Himself and in knowing Himself. The infinite Word, His onlybegotten Son, is the declaration and expression of that infinite knowledge. Similarly, infinite Lovingness, the Holy Ghost, is the breathing forth of the infinite love of Father and Son.

Within Himself, therefore, God is essentially and eternally active. It is His nature to be active. From His creation we learn something of His attributes and perfections. The perfection of activity transcends them all. We know of its existence only because He has seen fit to tell us of it. It is the expression of His inmost life. Penetrate to the source of this activity and you have, in an inadequate human way, penetrated to the divine nature itself.

WE ARE BORN AGAIN

Come back to StPeter’s wonderful phrase, You are to share it the divine nature. How can a man possibly share in the very source of the divine Processions by which God Is Three in One? How can the creature share in the source of that infinite activity that is God’s throughout eternity? How can humanity share in that by which Divinity knows and loves Himself?

It happens when we are baptised. A new life comes to it us. We are born again. “Unless a man be born again of water and the Holy Ghost, he cannot enter into the kingdom ofGod” (John 3:5).

What do those two words “born again” mean? One can be born only to life. Therefore those words mean that through water and the Holy Ghost, that is through Baptism, Christians are to receive a new life, that is, we are to be given a level of existence we did not possess before.

Try to understand this business of levels of existence. It is not hard. On the lowest level are the things that do not live. Above them are plants, above them unreasoning animals, above them reasoning animals called men, above them angels and above the angels God.

Suppose you go out for a walk into the country one Sunday afternoon. You come to a five-barred gate over which a lovely grey mare is sticking out her head. Her nose is pleading to be patted. You yield to the temptation, put out your hand and pat the mare on the nose. How astonished you would be if the grey mare then said:”Thank you very much; it was itching justthere!” If such an extraordinary thing did happen, you might well conclude that the mare could reason, because she could connect the removal of an itch with being patted and could put the connection into words and thank you for it. A reasoning horse must, of course, have a reasoning nature and that would certainly be a nature higher than a horsey nature; it would, in fact, be a super nature. The life by which a horse acted as a man would be a supernatural life. Such a horse might, indeed, be said to share in human nature.

The new life Christians receive at Baptism is precisely a super nature: the theology books call it supernatural life or sanctifying grace. (Grace comes from the Latin word, gratia, meaning a favour; supernatural life is called grace because we have no right whatever to it; it is God’s favour.)

If men were raised by the new life we receive at baptism to share in the nature of the angels we would possess supernatural life; but that is not what God has done for us. He raises us above the angels to share in His own inner life.

This new life is given to us as a seed. When a seed is put into the ground it draws nourishment from the soil and it eventually may grow into a beautiful flower or a mighty tree. So with our supernatural life. If we nourish it with the supernatural food we receive through the Sacraments and do not kill it by grievous sin, it will burst forth after death into the perfect flower of the vision of God. Sanctifying grace, the seed of life, gives the soul new aptitudes, new capacity. They do not belong to the soul because it is a human soul. They really belong to God. This new capacity permits the soul to share in the intimacy that there is between the three Persons in the Godhead. The soul has, in truth, been born again; it is a new creature with new life.

NATURE AND SUPERNATURE

THIS contrast between nature and supernature is stressed by St Paul. No less than 164 times he uses the phrase”In ChristJesus”. Supernatural life, the life of God Himself, comes through Baptism, which makes us members of the Church. We say exactly the same thing in another way when we speak of baptism as incorporating us into Christ, that is, into Christ’s Mystical Body, which is His Church. It is a vital union (like that to which Our Lord alluded after the Last Supper between the vine and the branches). It makes us live and think and will and feel and act with Christ. The source of this new supernatural conduct is supernatural life, sharing in the divine nature, organic union with Christ, the second Person of the Blessed Trinity.

The baptised Christian receives a new personality. St. Paul calls it “the spirit”. In the passage that follows he contrasts it with nature, flesh and blood. Man descended from Adam is natural man; man vitalised by grace is supernatural man. There is only one divine life. Sometimes it is called the life of the Spirit; sometimes life in Christ. Christ is Head of the Mystical Body; the Holy Ghost is its soul. “Nature has no longer any claim uponus,” writes the great Apostle;”that we should live a life of nature. If you live a life of nature, you are marked out for death; if you mortify the ways of nature through the power of the Spirit, you will have life. Those who follow the leading ofGod’s Spirit are allGod’s sons; the spirit you have now received is not, as of old, a spirit of slavery, to govern you by fear; it is the spirit of adoption, which makes us cry out,”Abba, Father.” The Spirit Himself thus assures our spirit, that we are children of God; and if we are His children, then we are His heirs too; heirs of God, sharing the inheritance ofChrist” (Rom. 8:12–17).

We are God’s adopted sons. God has taken us to Himself as Sons and given us a right to the divine inheritance.”See how the Father has shewn His love towards us; that we should be counted as God’s sons, should be His sons,” wrote St John (1 John 3:1).

We must not let the title adopted sons mislead us. Amongst us a child may be legally adopted by a husband and wife who, perhaps, have no children of their own. By law, the adopted child is their child; he is a member of their family, sharing their inheritance. But no form of law can give that child a share in the life of its adoptedparents” bodies and souls. Divine adoption, on the other hand, does enable us to share in the very life of God Himself. “If a man is born ofGod,” says St John,”he does not live sinfully, he is true to his parentage” (1 John 3:9). This last phrase really means”the seed of God persists inhim” or, as Mgr. Knox expresses it in a note,”being a child of God he inherits a strain proper to his ancestry”.

By grace, therefore, we receive capacity to live in a way resembling God’s life. Further, this seed in us,God’s seed, gives us a kind of birthright toGod’s inheritance. St John has it in the first chapter of his Gospel:”All those who did welcome Him, He empowered to become the children ofGod” (John 1:12). The same idea is repeated many times in the New Testament.

TEMPLES OF THE TRINITY

WE are still only on the fringe of understanding thesoul’s relationship with the Blessed Trinity. St Paul touched upon another important point:”Do you not understand that you areGod’s temple, and thatGod’s Spirit has His dwelling in you?” he wrote to the Corinthians (I Cor. 3:16). He was repeating just what Our Lord had said after His Last Supper:”If a man has any love for me, he will be true to my word; and then he will win myFather’s love, and we will both come to him, and make our continual abode withhim” (John 14:23).

God’s living within the soul in grace is another aspect of our kinship with the Holy Trinity. Grace gives our souls a power of reaction which makes them capable of possessing God, of holding him vitally, of having Him as their own. He dwells there as in a temple.

The blessed in heaven possess God. They have not only an idea of God; they have God Himself. He is in their souls; they have taken hold of Him. Without supernatural life we can have an idea of God but we cannot possess Him. Grace enables us to know and love God in such a way that He is within us as an idea is within us when we know ordinary things. Notice, He is within us not merely an idea of Him. It is He whom we know through Faith, He whom we love through Charity. He takes the place of any idea we have formed of Him.

Sharing in the divine nature implies that God pours into our souls the theological virtues of Faith, Hope and Charity. These proceed from sanctifying grace much as warmth and light come from the sun.”The love of God has been poured out in our hearts by the Holy Spirit, whom we havereceived,” says St Paul (Rom. 5:5).

What a wonderful conclusion we must now draw from all this! The soul in grace knows God and loves God with the same knowledge and love, though not in the same way or with the same intensity, with which it will know Him and love Him eternally in heaven. As St Paul puts it:”At present, we are looking at a confused reflection in a mirror: then, we shall see face to face; now, I have only glimpses of knowledge; then, I shall recognise God as He has recognisedme” (1 Cor. 13:12).

“HE THAT IS MIGHTY HATH DONE GREAT THINGS TOME”

Dare we say now that the doctrine of the Holy Trinity is of no practical value to us? Not only has God made us to His own image and likeness in that we are spirits and immortal, destined to live with the Holy Trinity for a timeless eternity, He has enriched us with this wonderful supernature, which gives us powers and capacities far beyond those that are natural to us, so that we can in some mysterious way share in the nature of God, be truly His children, brethren of His only-begotten Son and temples of the Blessed Trinity.

Compare these things, if you like, with the thoughts of natural greatness that so often thrill men’s minds. Think of the fathomless oceans which conceal whole worlds within their depths, of the great mountains, whose snow-capped peaks few men can scale, of the mighty rivers whose power has never been compassed, of the world of stars and planets whose mysteries have not yet been exhausted, of the thunder and the lightning and the storm-tossed sea-think of them all and add to them the unsuspected wonders of science to be revealed during the atomic age that may be to come, and what are they compared with the dignity of a Christian in the state of grace?

He is greater than all of them together. They are God’s creatures; He is God’s child,God’s temple, a sharer inGod’s life. When they shall all have disappeared; when the sun shall have seemed to have dragged its weary course across the skies for the last time, when the oceans and the rivers, the planets and the stars, the thunder and the lightning and all the discoveries of men shall be as if they never existed, then shall the Christian, who has died with the Blessed Trinity in his soul, be still young, looking forward to an eternity of life possessed of the direct vision of the Triune God.

Such realities impose a grave responsibility upon us. Since we have been raised by God to this new supernatural level, sharing in the nature of the Blessed Trinity, it is a matter of duty to try to live at that level. Our conduct should correspond to what we are.

God has not forgotten to cater for this, too. The Holy Trinity is working with us, teaching us how to live as sons of God. Catholic life is not just the following out of a programme-going to Mass on Sunday, receiving the Sacraments, keeping the Commandments and so on. It is more. It is the loving service of an infinitely good, wise, loving and allpowerful Father by children upon whom He has lavished It untold benefits and blessings. In addition, God pursues us through life with his actual graces, helps on the level of our supernature, to sanctify and save our souls.

DEVOTION TO THE TRINITY

WE must never cease to adore the Blessed Trinity. The first duty of religion is to worship God. Adoration is the highest form of prayer. All that we have learned aboutGod’s inner life and our sharing in it should force us to our knees saying frequently”Glory be to the Father and to the Son and to the HolyGhost.” We should not forget the injunction of St Paul:”Glorify and bear God in your body” (1 Cor. 6:20).

Made as we are to the image of the Trinity and baptised in the name of the Trinity, we should imitate the Trinity by trying to know God more in order to love Him.”Who will give me wings like a dove and I will fly and be atrest” sang the Psalmist. The two wings which raise us above earthly things and take us to the heart of the divine goodness are the knowledge and love of God. We show our love by imitating God’s perfection as far as we can:”Be you perfect, as also your heavenly Father is perfect,” Our Lord says (Matt. 5:48).

We should often recall the prayer of Christ in which He appealed to the unity of the Godhead, and pray for unity amongst men, especially in the one Church of God (John 17:21–22).

We should meditate on the words of St John and try to live up to their lesson:”Our fellowship is with the Father and with His Son Jesus Christ. God is love, and who so abideth in love abideth in God, and God abideth inhim” (1 John 1:3; 4:16).

With Our Lord we should say always of God the Father:”I honour my Father.” We do this by praising and thanking Him, loving Him, conforming ourselves to His will and by always seeking His glory.

We are the brethren of Christ, the Second Person. We should see him and worship Him in the Church, in the Holy Eucharist, in our fellow men. We should try to live up to our dignity.

We are temples of the Holy Ghost. We should, therefore, pray to God living within us, appeal to Him to ward off temptation, keep ourselves pure for His sake and love others because He loves them sufficiently to live or wish to live within them always.

When God acts upon the universe He has created, the three divine Persons act as one principle. Indeed, creation itself and allGod’s work is done by the Blessed Trinity. One Person does not act as distinct from the others.

Yet Scripture and the Liturgy refer to the Father as Creator, the Son as Redeemer and the Holy Ghost as Sanctifier. It is clear that Redemption, as the work of God-made-Man, belongs to the Son alone, for He alone took a human nature. Creation and sanctification are the work of the Trinity because they are operations in the divine nature. They belong to no single Person alone.

We are merely following OurLord’s example when we attribute an external operation to the Person to whom belongs the corresponding operation within the Godhead. This is called Appropriation. . To the Father are appropriated works of beginning and power, to the Son (who subsists by way of knowledge) works of wisdom and to the Holy Ghost (who subsists as love) works of love. Appropriation is useful because it emphasises that the three divine Persons in God are really distinct and not only a form of words, and that in the inner life the Godhead the Father is Beginning, the Son Wisdom and the Holy Ghost Love.

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The Bridge of Peace

BY POPE PIUS XII

INDEX

“BEHOLD I will bring upon her, as it were, a river of peace” (Isaias 66, 12). This promise, announced in the mes—sianic prophecy of Isaias, was fulfilled, with mystic significance, by the Incarnate Word of God in the New Jerusalem, the Church: and We desire, beloved sons and daughters of the Catholic world, that this same promise should resound again over the entire human family as the wish of Our heart this Christmas eve.

A river of peace upon the world: this is the desire which We have most constantly cherished in Our heart, for which We have most fervently prayed and worked, ever since the day when God in His goodness was pleased to entrust to Our humble person the exalted and awe-inspiring office of common father of all peoples which is proper to the vicar of Him to Whom all races are given for His inheritance (Psalms 2, 8). .

Casting a glance backwards over the years of Our pontificate with regard to that part of Our mandate which derives from the universal fatherhood conferred upon Us, We feel that it was the intention of Divine Providence to assign to Us the particular mission of helping, by means of patient and almost exhausting toil, to lead mankind back to the paths of peace.

At the approach of the feast of Christmas each year, We would have ardently wished to be able to go to the cradle of the Prince of Peace and offer Him, as the gift He would cherish most, a mankind at peace and all united together as in one family. On the contrary, We had to experience-during the first six years-the indescribable bitterness of seeing nothing all around Us but peoples in arms, carried away by the mad fury of mutual destruction.

We had hoped -and many others had hoped with Us-that once the rage of hatred and revenge had finally ceased, there would very soon have dawned a period of secure peace. Instead, there continued that agonizing state of uneasiness and danger, which public opinion described with the name “Cold War,” because, in reality, it had little or nothing in common with true peace and had much of the character of a truce that trembled at the slightest touch. Our annual return to the cradle of the Redeemer continued to be a sad oblation of sorrows and anxieties, with an intense desire to draw therefrom the courage that was necessary in order to persist in exhorting men to peace and pointing out to them the right road to attain it.

COLD WAR AND COLD PEACE

Can We, at least now in this sixteenth year of Our pontificate, fulfil that wish? According to many reports, the Cold War has slowly been replaced by a period of decreased tension between the opposing parties, as if they were giving each other a longer breathing space: and not without some irony, this decreased tension has been given the name “Cold Peace.” While We willingly recognize that this does represent some progress in the laborious ripening of peace properly so called, nevertheless it is not yet a gift worthy of the mystery of Bethlehem, where there appeared “the goodness and kindness of God our Saviour” towards men (Tit. 3, 4). For it is in too vivid contrast with the spirit of cordiality, of sincerity and of brightness that hovers around the cradle of the Redeemer.

In fact, in the political world, what is meant by “Cold Peace” if not the mere co -existence of various peoples based on fear of each other and on mutual disillusionment? Now, it is clear that simple co-existence does not deserve the name of peace; to which Christian tradition, formed in the school of the lofty intellects of Augustine and Thomas Aquinas, has come to apply the definition “the tranquillity of order.” Cold peace is only a provisional calm, whose duration is conditional upon the changeable sensation of fear and upon the varying calculation of present strength; while it has about it nothing of true “order,” which presupposes a series of relationships converging towards a common purpose that is right and just. Besides, by excluding all bonds of a spiritual nature between peoples so fragmentarily co-existing, cold peace falls far short of that which was preached and desired by the Divine Master: for His peace is founded on a union of souls in the same truth and in charity. It is defined by St. Paul as the “peace of God” which binds in the first place men’s minds and hearts (Cfr. Phil. 4, 7) , and it is put into practice by acts of harmonious collaboration in every field of life, not excluding the political, social and economic fields.

Such is the reason why We do not dare to offer Cold Peace to the Divine Infant. It is not the simple and solemn pax (peace) which the angels sang to the shepherds on that holy night. Much less is it the Pax Dei (Peace of God) which surpasses all understanding and is a source of interior and complete joy (Cfr. Ibid.). .

It is not even that peace which mankind today dreams of and longs for after so much affliction. However, We wish to examine in detail its shortcomings in order that from its hollow void and its uncertain duration there may be born in the rulers of nations and in those who can exercise any influence in this field, the imperative desire to transform it as soon as possible into true peace, which is, in reality, Christ Himself. For, since peace is order and order is unity, Christ alone is able and willing to unite men’s minds in truth and love. It is in this sense that the Church points Him out to all peoples in the words of the prophet, as being Himself peace: “Et erit iste pax. . . .” (and this man shall be our peace) (Micheas 5, 5; cfr. Liturgical Office for Feast of Christ the King, passim).

CO-EXISTENCE IN FEAR

It is a common impression, derived from the simple observation of facts, that the principal foundation on which the present state of relative calm rests, is fear. Each of the groups, into which the human family is divided; tolerates the existence of the other; because it does not wish itself to perish. By thus avoiding a fatal risk, the two groups do not live together; they co-exist. It is not a state of war, but neither is it peace; it is a cold calm. Each of the two groups smarts under the fear of the other’s military and economic power. In both of them there is a grave apprehension of the catastrophic effect of the latest weapons.

Each follows with anxious attention the technical development of the other’s arma ments and the productive capacity of its economy, while it entrusts to its own propaganda the task of turning the other’s fear to its advantage by strengthening and extending its meaning. It seems that in the field of concrete politics reliance is no longer placed on other rational or moral principles, for these, after so many delusions, have been swept away by an extreme collapse into scepticism.

The most obvious absurdity of the situation resultant from such a wretched state of affairs is this: current political practice, while dreading war as the greatest of catastrophies, at the same time puts all its trust in war, as if it were the only expedient for subsistence and the only means of regulating international relations. This is, in a certain sense, placing trust in that which is loathed above all other things.

On the other hand, the above-mentioned political practice has led many, even of those responsible for government, to revise the entire problem of peace and war, and has induced them to ask themselves sincerely if deliverance from war and the ensuring of peace ought not to be sought on higher and more humane levels than on that dominated exclusively by terror. Thus it is that there has been an increase in the numbers of those who rebel against the idea of having to be satisfied with mere co-existence, of renouncing relationships of a more vital nature with the other group, and against being forced to live all the days of their lives in an atmosphere of enervating fear. Hence they have come back to consider the problem of peace and war as a fact involving a higher and Christian responsibility before God and the moral law.

Undoubtedly, in this changed manner of approach to the problem there is an ele ment of “fear” as a restraint against war and a stimulus to peace; but here the fear is that salutary fear of God-Guarantor and Vindicator of the moral law-and, therefore, as the Psalmist teaches (Ps. 110, 10), it is the beginning of wisdom.

Once the problem is elevated to this higher plane, which alone is worthy of rational creatures, there again clearly appears the absurdity of that doctrine which held sway in the political schools of the last few decades: namely, that war is one of many admissible forms of political action; the necessary, and as it were, the natural outcome of irreconcilable disputes between two countries; and that war, therefore; is a fact bearing no relation to any kind of moral responsibility. It is likewise apparent how absurd and inadmissible is the principle-also so long accepted-according to which a ruler, who declares war, would only be guilty of having made a political error, should the war be lost. But he could in no case be accused of moral guilt and of crime for not having, when he was able to, preserved peace.

WAR AND THE MORAL ORDER

It was precisely this absurd and immoral concept of war which rendered vain, in the fatal weeks of 1939, Our efforts to uphold in both parties the will to continue negotiations. War was then thought of as a die, to be cast with greater or less caution and skill, and not as a moral fact involving obligation in conscience and higher responsibilities. It required tombs and ruins without number to reveal the true nature of war: namely, that it was not a luckier or less lucky gamble between conflicting interests but a tragedy, spiritual more than material, for millions of men; that it was not a risking of some possessions, but a loss of all: a fact of enormous gravity.

How is it possible -many at that time asked with the simplicity and truth of common sense-that, while every individual feels within himself an urgent sense of moral responsibility for his own most ordinary acts, the dreadful fact of war, which is also the fruit of the free act of somebody’s will, can evade the dominion of conscience, and that there be no judge to whom its innocent victims may have recourse? In the atmosphere of that time, when people were beginning to return to common sense, widespread approval was given Our cry, “War Against War,” with which in 1944, We declared Our opposition to the pure formalism of political action and to doctrines of war which take no account of God or of His commandments. That salutary return to common sense, instead of being weakened, became more profound and more widespread in the years of the Cold War, perhaps because prolonged experience made more clearly evident the absurdity of a life lived under the incubus of fear. Thus, the Cold Peace, with all its incoherences and uneasiness, shows signs of taking the first steps towards an authentic moral order and towards a recognition of the elevated doctrine of the Church regarding just and unjust war, and the licitness and illicitness of recourse to arms.

This goal will assuredly be attained if, on one side and the other, men will once again sincerely, almost religiously, come to consider war as an object of the moral order, whose violation constitutes in fact a culpability which will not go unpunished.

In the concrete, this goal will be attained if statesmen, before weighing the advantages and risks of their decisions, will recognize that they are personally subject to eternal moral laws, and will treat the problem of war as a question of conscience before God.

In the conditions of our times, there is no other way to liberate the world from its agonizing incubus except by a return to the fear of God, which in no way debases the man who willingly submits to it; rather, it saves him from the infamy of that awful crime-unnecessary war. And who can express astonishment if peace and war thus prove to be closely connected with religious truth? Everything that is, is of God: the root of all evil consists precisely in separating things from their beginning and their end.

Hence, also, it becomes clear that pacifist efforts or propaganda originating from those who deny all belief in God-if indeed not undertaken as an artful expedient to obtain the tactical effect of creating excitement and confusion-is always very dubious and incapable of lessening or of eliminating the anguished sense of fear.

The present co-existence in fear has thus only two possible prospects before it: either it will raise itself to a co-existence in fear of God, and thence to a truly peaceful living-together, inspired and protected by the Divine moral order: or else it will shrivel more and more into a frozen paralysis of international life, the grave dangers of which are even now foreseeable.

In fact, prolonged restraint of the natural expansion of the life of peoples can ultimately lead them to that same desperate outlet that it is desired to avoid: war. No people, furthermore, could support indefinitely a race of armaments without disastrous repercussions being felt in its normal economic development. The very agreements directed to imposing a limitation on armaments would be in vain. Without the moral foundation of fear of God, they would become, if ever reached, a source of renewed mutual distrust.

There remains, therefore, the auspicious and lightsome other way which, based upon the fear of God and aided by Him, leads to true peace, which is sincerity, warmth and life, and is thus worthy of Him Who has been given to us that men might have life in Him and have it more abundantly (Cfr. John 10, 10).

CO-EXISTENCE IN ERROR

Although the “Cold War”-and the same is true of the “Cold Peace”-keeps the world in a harmful state of division, yet it does not, up to the present, prevent an intense rhythm of life from pulsing therein. It is true that this is a life developing almost exclusively in the economic field. It is, however, undeniable that economics, taking advantage of the pressing progress of modern techniques, has by feverish activity attained surprising results, of such a nature as to foreshadow a profound transformation in the lives of all peoples, even those heretofore considered rather backward. Admiration unquestionably cannot be withheld for what it has done and what it promises to do.

Nevertheless, economics, with its apparently unlimited ability to produce goods without number, and with the multiplicity of its relationships, exercises over many of our contemporaries a fascination superior to its potentiality, and extends to fields extraneous to economics. The error of placing such trust in modern economics is again shared in common by the two camps into which the world is today divided. In one of these, it is taught that, since man has given proof of such great power as to create the marvellous technico-economical composite of which he boasts today, he will also be able to organize the liberation of human life from all the privations and evils from which it suffers, and in this way effect a kind of self-redemption. On the other hand, the conception gains ground in the opposing camp that the solution of the problem of peace must be sought in economics, and particularly in a specific form thereof, that of free exchange.

We have already had occasion at other times to expose the baselessness of such teachings. About a hundred years ago, followers of the free commerce system expected wonderful things from it, attributing to it an almost magical power. One of its most ardent converts did not hesitate to compare the principle of free exchange, insofar as its effects in the moral world are concerned, with the principle of gravity which rules the physical world, and he attributed to it, as its proper effect, the drawing of men closer together, the elimination of antagonism based on race, faith, or language, and the unity of all human beings in unalterable peace (Cfr. Richard Cobden, Speeches on Questions of Public Policy. London, Macmillan and Co., 1870: Vol. I, pp. 362–366).

The course of events has shown how deceitful is the illusion of entrusting peace to free exchange alone. Nor would the result be otherwise in the future if there were to persist that blind faith which confers on economics an imaginary mystic force. At present, moreover, there are lacking those foundations of fact which could in any way warrant the over-rosy hopes nourished today, as in the past, by followers of this teaching. As a matter of fact, while, in one of the camps which co-exist in Cold Peace, this highly vaunted economic freedom does not in reality exist, it is, in the other, completely rejected as an absurd principle. There is, between the two, a diametrical opposition which cannot be reconciled by purely economic forces. Nay, more, if there are-as there actually are-relations of cause and effect between the moral world and the economic world, they must be so ordered that primacy be assigned to the former; that is, the moral world which must authoritatively permeate with its spirit the social economy. Once this scale of values has been established and its actual exercise permitted, economics will, insofar as it is able, consolidate the moral world and confirm the spiritual postulates and forces of peace.

On the other hand, the economic factor might place serious obstacles in the way of peace -particularly of a Cold Peace, in the sense of an equilibrium between groups if, employing erroneous systems, it were to weaken one of the groups. This could occur if, among other eventualities, individual people of one group were to engage, without consideration or regard for others, in a ceaseless increase of production, and a constant raising of their own living standard. In such a case, an upsurge of resentment and rivalry on the part of neighbouring peoples would be inevitable, and consequently also the weakening of the entire group.

One must be convinced that economic relationships between nations will be factors of peace insofar as they will obey the norms of natural law, will be inspired by love, will have due regard for other peoples and will be sources of help. Let it be held for certain that in relations between men, even merely economic relations, nothing is produced spontaneously-as does occur in nature which is subject to necessary laws-but everything depends substantially on the spirit. Only the spirit, the image of God, and the executor of His designs, can establish order and harmony on earth, and it will succeed in doing so to the same extent that it becomes the faithful interpreter and docile instrument of the only Saviour Jesus Christ, Who is Himself Peace.

Moreover, in another matter even more delicate than that of economics, error is shared by the two camps co-existing in the Cold Peace; an error, namely, regarding the principles which animate their respective unity. One of the camps bases its strong internal cohesion on a false idea, as idea, moreover, violating primary, human and Divine rights, yet at the same time efficacious; while the other, forgetful that it already possesses an idea that is true and has been successfully tested in the past, seems instead to be tending towards political principles which are evidently destructive of unity.

During this last decade since the war, a great yearning for spiritual renovation urged souls to unite Europe strongly, the impetus coming from the natural living conditions of her peoples, with the purpose of putting an end to the traditional rivalries between one and another, and of assuring a united protection for their independence and their peaceful development. This noble idea did not present motives for complaints or diffidence to the world outside of Europe, in the measure that this outside world was favourably disposed to Europe. It was also believed that Europe would have easily found within herself the animating idea for her unity. But the succeeding events and recent accords which, as is believed, have opened the way to a Cold Peace, no longer have for a basis the idea of a more extensive European unification. Many, in fact, believe that the governing policy is for a return to a kind of nationalistic state, closed within itself, centralizing therein its forces, unsettled in its choice of alliances and, consequently, no less perilous than that which had its time of highest development during the last century.

Too soon have been forgotten the enormous mass of lives sacrificed and of goods extorted by this type of state, and the crushing economic and spiritual burdens imposed by it. But the real error consists in confusing national life in its proper sense with nationalistic politics: the first, the right and prized possession of a people, may and should be promoted: the second, as a germ infinitely harmful, will never be sufficiently repelled. National life is, in itself, that operative composite of all the values of civilization, which are proper and characteristic of a particular group, for whose spiritual unity they constitute, as it were, its bond. At the same time, it enriches, as its own contribution, the culture of all humanity.

NATIONAL LIFE NOT POLITICAL

In essence, therefore, national life is something not political; and this is confirmed by the fact that, as history and practice demonstrate, it can develop alongside of others, within the same state, just as it can also extend itself beyond the political frontiers of the same state. National life became a principle of dissolution within the community of peoples only when it began to be exploited as a means for political purposes; when, that is to say, the controlling and centralizing state made of nationality the basis of its force of expansion. Behold then the nationalistic state, the seed of rivalries and the fomenter of discord.

It is clear that, if the European community were to move forward on this road, its cohesion would become, as a result, quite weakened in comparison with that of the opposing group. Its weakness would certainly be revealed on that day of future peace destined to regulate with foresight and justice the questions still in abeyance. Nor should it be said that, in new circumstances, the dynamism of the nationalistic state no longer represents a danger for other peoples, being deprived, in the majority of cases, of effective economic and military power, for even when the dynamism of an imaginary nationalistic power is expressed in sentiment rather than exercised with actions, it is equally offensive to the mind; it feeds on distrust and breeds suspicion within alliances, impedes reciprocal understanding and thereby loyal collaboration and mutual help, to the same extent as it would if it had at its command effective force.

What would become, then, in such circumstances, of the common bond which is supposed to bind individual states in unity? What kind of a grand and efficacious idea would that be which would render them strong in defence and effective in a common programme for civilization?

Some would like to see it as agreement in the rejection of that way of life destructive of liberty, proper to the other group. Without a doubt, aversion to slavery is worthy of note, but it is of negative value, and does not possess the force to stimulate the human spirit to action with the same efficacy as does a positive and absolute idea.

Such an idea, instead, could be love of the liberty willed by God and in accord with the needs of the common good, or else the ideal of natural law, as the foundation of an organization of the state and of states.

Only these, and like spiritual ideas, acquired now for many long centuries as part of the tradition of a Christian Europe, can sustain comparison-and moreover emerge victorious in it, to the extent that these ideas are really lived- with the false idea, though concrete and effective, which apparently holds together in cohesion, not without the aid of violence, the other group; the idea, namely, of an earthly paradise to be attained as soon as a determined form of social organization would be realized. Though illusory, this idea has succeeded in creating, at least outwardly, a compact and hardy unity, and is being accepted by the uninformed masses; it knows how to inspire its members to action and voluntarily to make sacrifices. The same idea, within the political framework which expresses it, gives to its directors a strong capacity for seduction, and to the adept the audacity to penetrate as a vanguard even into the ranks of the other side.

Europe, on the other hand, still awaits the reawakening of her own consciousness. Meanwhile, in what she stands for-such as the wisdom and organization of associated living and as an influence of culture-she seems to be losing ground in not a few regions of the earth.

HAS EUROPE LOST HER WAY?

Truly, such a retreat concerns the promoters of nationalistic policy, who are forced to fall back before adversaries who have taken over the same methods and made them their own. Especially among some peoples until now considered colonial, the process of organic maturation towards an autonomous policy, which Europe should have guided with perception and care, was rapidly turned into nationalistic outbreaks, greedy for power. It must be confessed that even these unforeseen eruptions, damaging to the prestige and interests of Europe, are, at least in part, the fruit of her own bad example.

Does this mean only that Europe has momentarily lost her way? In any case, that which must remain, and without doubt will remain, is the genuine Europe; that is, that composite of all the spiritual and civil values which the West has accumulated, drawing from the riches of individual nations to dispense them to the whole world. Europe, conforming to the dispositions of Divine Providence, will again be able to be the nursery and dispenser of those values, if she will know how to resume wisely her proper spiritual character and to repudiate the divinization of power.

Just as in the past the well-springs of her strength and of her culture were eminently Christian, so now too will she have to impose on herself a return to God and to Christian ideals, if she is to find again the basis and bond of her unity and true greatness. And if these well-springs seem to be in part dried up, if this bond is threatened with rupture and the foundation of her unity crumbling, the historical and present responsibility falls back upon each of the two groups who find themselves now facing each other in anguish and mutual fear.

The motives ought to be enough for men of good will, in one and the other camp, to desire, to pray, and to act, in order that humanity may be liberated from the intoxication of power and of pre-eminence, and in order that the Spirit of God may be the Sovereign Ruler of the world, where once Almighty God chose no other means for saving those whom He loved than that of becoming a weak Babe in a poor manger. “A child is born to us, and a son is given to us, and the government is upon his shoulder” (Isaias, 9, 6; cf. Introit, Third Mass of Christmas Day).

CO-EXISTENCE IN TRUTH

Although it is a sad thing to note that the present rupture of the human race took place, in the beginning, between men who knew and adored the same Saviour, Jesus Christ, still there appears to Us to be a well-founded hope that, in His name too, a bridge of peace may yet be built between opposing shores, and the common bond, so sadly broken, be re-established.

There is, in fact, some hope that today’s co -existence may bring mankind closer to peace. In order, however, that this expectation be justified, such co-existence must in some way be co-existence in truth. Now a bridge cannot be built in truth between these two separate worlds unless it be founded on the human beings living in one and the other of these worlds, and not on their governmental or social systems. This is so because, while one of the two parties still strives in large measure, whether consciously or unconsciously, to preserve the natural law, the system prevailing in the other has completely abandoned this basis.

A one-sided supernaturalism might refuse entirely to take such an attitude into consideration, alleging the reason that we live in a redeemed world and are therefore withdrawn from the natural order; or some might say that the collectivist character of that system ought to be recognized as a “historical truth,” in the sense that it too corresponds to the will of God-but these are errors to which a Catholic can by no means submit. The right road is quite different.

In both camps, there are millions in whom the imprint of Christ is preserved in a more or less active degree: they, too, no less than faithful and fervent believers, should be called upon to collaborate towards a renewed basis of unity for the human race. It is true that, in one of the two camps, the voice of those who stand resolutely for truth, for love and for the spirit, is forcibly suffocated by the public authorities, while in the other people suffer from excessive timidity in proclaiming aloud their worthy desires. It is, however, the duty of a policy of unification to encourage the former and to make heard the sentiments of the latter.

Particularly in that camp where it is not a crime to oppose error, statesmen should have greater confidence in themselves: they should give proof to others of a more firm courage in foiling the manoeuvres of the obscure forces which are still trying to establish power hegemonies, and they should also show more active wisdom: in preserving and swelling the ranks of men of good will, especially of believers in God, who everywhere adhere in great numbers to the cause of peace.

It would certainly be an erroneous unification policy -if not actually treachery-to sacrifice in favour of nationalistic interests the racial minorities who are without strength to defend their supreme possessions; their faith and their Christian culture. Whoever were to do this would not be worthy of confidence, nor would they be acting honourably if later, in cases where their own interests demanded it, they were to invoke religious values and respect for law.

There are many who volunteer to lay the bases of human unity. Since, however, these bases, this bridge, must be of a spiritual nature, those sceptics and cynics are certainly not qualified for the task who, in accordance with doctrines of a more or less disguised materialism, reduce even the loftiest truths and the highest spiritual values to the level of physical reactions or consider them mere ideologies.

Nor are those apt for the task who do not recognize absolute truths nor admit moral obligations in the sphere of social life. These latter have already in the past-often unknowingly; by their abuse of freedom and by their destructive and unreasonable criticism-prepared an atmosphere favourable to dictatorship and oppression; and now they push forward again to obstruct the work of social and political pacification indicated under Christian inspiration. In some places it happens not rarely that they raise their voices against those who, conscientiously, as Christians, take a rightful active interest in political problems and in public life in general.

FALSE PRINCIPLES

Now and then, likewise, they disparage the assuredness and strength Christians draw from the possession of absolute truth, and on the contrary, they spread abroad the conviction that it is to modern man’s honour, and redounds to the credit of his education, that he should have no determined ideas or tendencies, nor be bound to any spiritual world. Meanwhile, they forget that it was precisely from these principles that the present confusion and disorder originated, nor will they remember that it was those very Christian forces they now oppose that succeeded in restoring, in many countries, the freedom which they themselves had dissipated.

Certainly, it is not upon such men that the common spiritual foundation can be laid and the bridge of truth built. Indeed, it may well be expected that, as occasion demands, they will not find it at all unseemly to be partial to the false system of the other shore, adapting themselves even to be overcome by it in case it were momentarily to triumph.

In awaiting, therefore, with confidence in the Divine mercy, that spiritual and Christian bridge, already in some way existing between the two shores, to take on a greater and more effective consistency, We would exhort primarily the Christians of the nations where the Divine gift of peace is still enjoyed to do everything possible to hasten the hour of its universal reestablishment.

CONDUCT OF CHRISTIANS

Let these convince themselves, above all, that the possession of truth, if it were to remain closed within themselves, almost as if it were an object of their contemplation for deriving therefrom spiritual pleasure, would not be of service to the cause of peace; the truth must be lived, communicated and applied to all phases of life. Also truth, and particularly Christian truth, is a talent that God placed in the hands of His servants in order that, with all that they undertake, it may bear fruit in works for the common good.

To all possessors of this truth, We would wish to propose a question, before the Eternal Judge asks it, whether they have used this talent fruitfully, in any way to be worthy of the invitation of the Master to enter into the joy of peace. How many, perhaps even priests and lay Catholics, ought to feel remorse for having instead buried in their own hearts this and other spiritual riches, because of their own indolence and insensibility to human misery.

In particular, they would become culpable if they should tolerate that the people be left as though shepherdless, while the enemy of God, taking advantage of his powerful organization, is producing destruction in the souls not solidly enough formed in the truth. Equally responsible would the priest and laity be, if the people were not to receive and find from Christian charity in practise that active help which the divine will prescribes. Nor would those priests and laity fulfil their obligations, were they voluntarily to close their eyes and keep silence concerning the social injustices of which they are witnesses, thus furnishing an occasion for unjust attacks against the capacity of the social action of Christianity and against the social efficacy of the social doctrine of the Church, which, with the help of Divine grace, has given so many and such unquestionable public demonstrations in this regard and also in these recent decades.

In case the failure to which We have referred were to occur, it would likewise be those priests and laity who would bear the responsibility that groups of the young, and even pastors of souls, let themselves, in some cases, be won over to radicalism and erroneous progressivism.

The conduct of Christians -be they of high or humble state, or be they more or less prosperous-who would not be resolute in the recognition and observance of their own social obligations in the management of their economic affairs, would cause more grave consequences to the social order, and also to the political order. Whosoever is not ready to limit justly in relation to the common weal the use of his private goods, be it done freely according to the dictates of his own conscience, or even done by means of organized provisions of a public character, he is helping, insofar as it depends on him, to impede the indispensable primacy of personal impulse and responsibility in social life.

In democratic systems one can fall easily into such an error, when individual interest is placed under the protection of these collective organizations or of a party, where one seeks protection for the sum total of individual interests, rather than the promotion of the good of all; under such a guise the economy becomes easily subject to the power of anonymous forces which dominate it politically.

Beloved children, We are thankful to the Divine goodness for having given Us yet another opportunity to indicate to you, with paternal solicitude, the path of goodness. May the earth, abundantly watered by the Giver of true peace, be able to proclaim glory to God in the highest! “Let us go to Bethlehem” (Luke 2, 15) . Let us go back there close to the crib of sincerity, of truth, and of love, where the only-begotten Son of God gives Himself Man to men, in order that humanity may know again in Him its bond and its peace: “Today true peace comes down to us from Heaven” (Office of Christmas, response, second lesson). In order that the earth be worthy to receive it, We invoke upon all abounding Divine blessings.

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The Call To Catholic Action

BY DANIEL A. LORD, S.J

INDEX

All Catholics are divided into . . .

No. For once it is not the easy and bromidic division of “all Gaul.” All Catholics are divided into so many classifications that one faces with a sinking heart their differences and discordant views (on all save essentials), their varying degrees of enthusiasm for their faith and of blank apathy toward it, their frequent suspicious distrust of one another.

However, just to simplify our discussion, all Catholics may be divided (roughly and on the most general lines of their attitude toward their faith) into:

Bad Catholics.

“Dumb” Catholics.

Good, ordinary Catholics.

And

Safely we can keep that last and splendid group until a little further along in our discussion, as a sort of happy climax and inspiring record and hopeful prophecy.

WRITTEN IN WATER

The one fluid in the world with which one cannot write (though I suppose my scientifically-minded readers will name a dozen or a score) is water.

Dip your pen into ink, and as you scratch along you leave behind you the fair record of your thoughts, emotions, adventures. Wine has been used as a fairly satisfactory substitute for ink. A pen dipped into strong coffee leaves a faint trace across the paper. But a pen writing with water leaves not a trace to record even the briefest love of callow sixteen. The records written with water are fleeting as the records written in water.

YET INDELIBLE

Yet water is the one fluid in the world that writes so indelibly that no passing of time nor enduring of eternity will ever blot out or dim its record. When the priest in baptism pours water across the forehead of the infant, that water writes upon the infant’s soul the ineradicable mark of God’s adoption.

Indeed, the fact seems to be that the inescap able word “Catholic” is at that very moment written across the newly- baptized face. For one who watches human beings with a thoughtful and observant eye gets to feel that he recognises on the streets, in the subways, on trains, in business offices, and on ballroom floors a baptized face.

Certainly, we are often sure that we are looking at a face that the waters of baptism have never touched. So unmistakable is this handwriting of baptism’s flowing water that the one fact a man can never live down seems to be his Catholicity. The record that baptism has written on the soul (and seemingly on the body) marks one for all time and eternity, in the eyes of God and the angels and very frequently in the eyes of men, as a Catholic.

PROMPTLY KNOWN

If the person baptized remains true to his faith, everyone promptly recognises him as a Catholic. He or she may give up the Faith and pass into that slightly shadowy, often dubious, sphere known as “former Catholic,” to be regretted by his former co-religionists, suspected by the group he has later joined; but he still remains a used-to-be Catholic. Whether a practising Catholic or a used-to-be-Catholic, Catholic forever he remains,

We have seen this verified in the case of those in public life and of those of commonplace experience. The new clerk entering the office, the new teacher slipping unobtrusively into a school system, the new executive taking over the local branch, the new neighbour moving into the house down the block in Suburbia, the maid applying for a job, or the sales manager taking charge of a territory is promptly known by his co-religionists, and even more promptly by those not of his faith, as a Catholic.

The joyous party swings into high. Drinks are loose, and conduct loosens to match them. Into the crowd comes a new arrival. In the midst of staggers and hiccoughs and slips, physical, lingual and moral, she keeps her calm, steady, assured poise. “Oh,” runs the whispered comment, “she is a Catholic.”

Or, sadly enough, she staggers with the rest, hiccoughs as maudlinly as they, and trips to lapses, to slips, to falls. Up go the eyebrows. “Astonishing,” runs the comment of those who pause in identical conduct to scrutinise her. “Astonishing! Because, you know, she is a Catholic.”

FOLLOWING UP AND DOWN

The fact of his present or relinquished Catholicity, follows a man as he mounts from obscurity on the slippery and often soiled ladder of politics. It is remembered of him or her long after the bright lights of Hollywood’s glory have obscuredthe light of faith. Even big business and sports usually uninterested in anything except results remember a man’s Catholicity and rehearse the fact with strange explicitness and insistence.

The white light that beats upon the throne beats upon the religion of a Catholic, and only that of a Catholic. The world is singularly uninterested in the faiths of other men. Not a thousand Americans paid any slight attention to the religion of Calvin Coolidge. The religion of Alfred E. Smith dogged him from councilman to candidate for President. I doubt that many people paid any heed to Andrew Mellon’s religion or that many know the religion of Charles Schwab. Perhaps a corporal’s guard could tell you the religion of Douglas Fairbanks, jun., or Robert Montgomery. Few would fail to tell you what Ramon Novarro’s faith is, or what was once the religion of Mary Pickford or John Barrymore. I have never heard Max Schmeling’s faith discussed. Like the rest of America, I have heard much of that of Gene Tunney.

Whatever, then, the division into which I am to fall as a Catholic, a Catholic I shall remain in the eyes of mankind and of the angels through-out all time. And so will you.

It does seem that if one will always be recognised as a Catholic, good or bad, or remembered as a Catholic, present or ex., one would rather be a satisfactory Catholic than an unsatisfactory one. One might even aspire to reach the highest division of Catholics, for few people willingly do badly the thing they must do before the eyes of a wide and critical audience.

BAD CATHOLICS

The first group of Catholics we can dispose of with a glance and a quick dismissal. In fact, they have a way of rapidly eliminating themselves from each period of the Church. With mingled regret and relief the motherly eyes of the Church watch them go. She has tears for their delinquency; they are losing grace and Peace and the friendship of Christ and in the end their eternal happiness. Wisely, however, she knows that they do her far less harm as open enemies than as false and disobedient children.

Simply and flatly, they are bad Catholics. Their evil lives are in direct contradiction to Catholic faith and morality. Yet the observant world is not observant enough to see that the evil they practise is done despite the warnings of the Church and in direct refusal of her precepts, commandments, and practices. They do the Catholic Church the greatest harm she ever suffers.

Open enemies can be met and fought on even terms. Foes who pretend friendship, traitors within the fold, are the real enemies. A gangster with a Catholic name (Irish, let’s say, or Italian) is picked up from a roadside at the end of his one- way ride. He may not have been near a church since his baptism; the non-Catholic world persists in seeing in him a Catholic,lumps him with the rest of the Catholic world, says with cynical judgment, “If this is the type of men who are Catholic, I will never join them,” and thousands are lost to the possibility of conversion.

SCANDALS

A politician, known to be Catholic, practises a dishonesty which the Church’s moral law must absolutely condemn and becomes involved in a graft scandal. His attendance to his religious duties may have been limited to an official appearance put in at occasional Communion breakfasts (he was present at the breakfast; he was notably absent from the Communion that preceded it); his Catholic connection is none the less remembered by the world that condemns his dishonesty, and again the Church suffers terribly from those who judge it, not by her best, but by her worst, children.

Bad Catholics, in high places and low, are those who do the Church the gravest and most irreparable harm. Their scandalous lives are taken by the world as samples of Catholicity. Saints are inexperienced and reluctant publicists. Sinners are notoriously in the headlines. And Catholic sinners, blazoned before the eyes of the nation or the limited vision of a narrow neighbourhood, do most to keep back the work of Christ.

PLAIN DUMB

“Dumb” is still, we must admit, slang. But it somehow best describes that mass of Catholics who, whatever their degree of education, are vacuously ignorant of what the Church teaches and holds. The second class of Catholics, then, is made up of “dumb” Catholics, and their name is legion.

Regrettably enough, they have, in many cases, had a Catholic education. Many of them have had no Catholic education and go through life quite ignorant of why they do the things they do or what the simplest practices of their Faith really mean.

And when they are asked to represent the Catholic Church in public movements, again and again they stand before the world as misrepresentative Catholics. They are floored by the simplest question about their faith. Their non-Catholic friends find them dodging religious discussion as if it were not quite decent to engage in it. When they are faced by an inquirer who will not be denied, they refer him to a priest for their answer, knowing all the time that he will not go, or give an answer so incorrect and misleading that the non-Catholic is turned forever from any further investigation of Catholic doctrine.

They are not in the main bad, these dumb Catholics. But God and the recording angel alone know the harm they do to the Church by their dodging of religious discussion, their incorrect answers, their misstatements of Catholic dogma and opinion, their representations of the Catholic Church which even the non-Catholic world knows must be awry.

JUST ORDINARY

The great majority of the Catholic world falls into the class of just good, ordinary Catholics. They are fairly well instructed; they are fairly devoted to their religion. They practise that by no means to be despised devotion of the fifty-two Sundays a year. They receive Holy Communion in routine fashion, realising that it is a duty, but not realising that it is life’s most golden opportunity. They are good, but ordinary.

Now, to insult a man to the top of your bent, tell him he is just ordinary. That one word sinks him into a slough of nothingness. It levels him to the commonness of the mob and brands him with the mediocre herd. An ordinary man is one so devoid of any distinction that his contemporaries fail to recognise and posterity stands no chance of remembering him.

A “just ordinary” doctor is not good enough for the wife or the child one really loves. An ordinary lawyer is not entrusted with an important case. An ordinary singer wins no plaudits from excited audiences and no press notices for his scrapbook.

“Ordinary” is a completely contemptuous word. We are furious when it is used (“just an ordinary-looking person with ordinary manners and an ordinary mind”) in our connection.

To be superlatively fine in anything is glorious. To rise above the merely commonplace is the ambition of every real man or woman. We remember only those who stand out, because they are not ordinary or common or mediocre.

EXTRAORDINARY -GOOD OR BAD

History has its place even for those who are extraordinarily bad. Not, heaven knows, that one would regard that as an honourable distinction; but the fact is that a great tyrant, an outstanding despot, a notorious traitor, a distinguished robber baron or a famous racketeer (in any age; and every age has had them) not only steals from the men of his day, but steals a place in world history. Ordinary sinners, like the rest of the ordinary herd, carry their nonentity with them into the future.

Yet, there are too many Catholics who seem to realise nothing of the contemptuous meaningfound in the phrase, “a good ordinary Catholic.” They are content with their dullness, their commonplaceness, their mediocrity at a time when the world is clamouring for extraordinary men and women in every line.

A MEDIOCRE WORLD

Certainly, as the Holy Father looked over the world, he must have felt, with sinking heart, that the Church was filled with ordinary Catholics. They were not bad, these ordinary Catholics, but they were listless. They were not “dumb,” but they were discouragingly dull. It had not seemed to enter their consciousness that the faith they possessed was not merely a gift but a high responsibility; not merely something to be hugged to their own selfish hearts, but something to be given generously to the world.

Certainly the Holy Father must have seen with deep disappointment how little impression was being made upon the world by Catholics, simply because the vast majority of the Catholic faithful were good, ordinary people. Catholic thought is not dominating the world of ideas to-day. Catholic thinkers have too often been ordinary or inarticulate. Catholic leaders do not direct the world of politics. Catholic leaders cannot arise from the ranks of the merely ordinary; and the merely ordinary are too numerous. Catholic leadership in sociology and economics was the leadership of the Pope himself, speaking his magnificent truths about capital and labour and social justice and government and finding only the faintest response among his own children.

THE ADDED EXTRA

So the Holy Father, seeing this great group of ordinary Catholics, hoped he could change them from nonentities into influences, from followers into leaders, by the addition of just that prefix “extra.” For it is that little extra something in life that always makes the difference.

Thousands of young men have knocked a ball about a golf course. One of them had the extra drive and precision and stamina that made him Bobby Jones. Thousands of young women have gone out on a court, tennis racket in hand. One of them had the extra speed and accuracy that made Helen Wills.

Of all the men and women who have practised at a piano until the neighbours threatened violence, a few had that extra technique and emotional depth that made them a Paderewski, a Samaroff, or a Vincent Lopez. From the mass of ordinary lawyers an occasional one rises to eminence by the extra knowledge of law and extra grasp of legal principles that make him a world figure.

PROPHECY AND CALL

So, in the hope that the ordinary Catholic, good at heart but ordinary in achievement, might be made extraordinary, the Holy Father issued a challenge and call. He named it Catholic Action. Surely he felt that in action was to be found that extra something that would turn a dull Catholic into an alert one, a somewhat indifferent Catholic into an interested one, an apathetic Catholic into an apostle.

There are times when the Pope seems to have a sort of prophetic vision. He not only sees the need of his own times; he foresees the need of a coming generation. And again and again he provides for that before the need itself actually arises.

YOUTH IS SAVED

Thirty years or more ago, the Holy Father realised that the need of the young generation then facing the world was frequent Communion. He could hardly have known by purely natural means that that young group was to undergo a battering of faith and an assault against morality such as no other generation had ever known.

Yet, even before the fury of that assault began, the Pope had given them the sure defence and the source of that strength which was to carry them through the struggle.

The battering began. Faith was assaulted with a violence unique in history. Morals were attacked, undermined, sneered at, ridiculed, represented as handicaps to mankind’s forward march. The young generation of thirty years ago walked into a barrage against their souls that would have destroyed them if they had not had intimate contact with the personality of Jesus Christ in frequent Communion. But daily they received Him, and He was their strength. Their faith might be assaulted, but they had touched in intimate communion the Giver and Founder of that faith. Their morals might be attacked with cruel and treacherous violence; but they had been in the Eucharistic companionship of the Virgin Christ. Frequent Communion saved that generation for God, the Church, and decency.

OPPOSITION

Interestingly enough, there were those of good-will and sincere convictions who opposed frequent Communion even after the Holy Father had spoken. There were even good priests who regarded his commands with distrust and apathy. Frequent Communion, though it brought with it the hope of a whole generation, was not welcomed everywhere. It was opposed actively and passively. Time alone has swept away opposition and proved that the Pope knew just what were the needs of that age and generation.

AGAIN A PROPHET

From his watchtower in the Vatican, where he sees the world as no other mortal sees it, the Holy Father, again with prophetic vision, foresaw the needs of this generation. And he forestalled those needs with Catholic Action. Inevitably, once frequent Communion had become common, Catholic Action was bound to follow; for one cannot associate with Christ in the intimacy of the Eucharist without wanting to bring Him to the world He loves and came to save. Catholic Action is the corollary of frequent Communion.

Beyond that, however, the Pope knew that Catholic Action was suited, not merely to the needs, but to the particular characteristics of this generation. An age so restlessly in motion, so eager to do remarkable things, could not be content with an inactive faith and a religion without achievement. A generation made up of young men and women of initiative, resourcefulness, and relentless activity must be given a participation in their religion that would fire their imagination and stimulate their desire for achievement.

JUST WHAT WAS NEEDED

The forward-moving activity of God’s enemies, crystallising in the new paganism, in Communism, in anti-Christian morality, and an atheism that makes war upon a God it denies, demanded a counter activity on the part of Catholics. The particular genius of this age meant that Catholic laymen must be given a fuller share of responsibility for the destiny of the Church. Yesterday was opened to them an almost priestly participation in the Eucharist. Today is offered to them an almost priestly participation in the apostolate of the Church.

If sincere and honest men, if apathetic priests and conservative laymen opposed frequent Communion, it is not surprising that something of the same opposition has in certain circles arisen against Catholic Action. But those who know history, know that the Popes are wise with the wisdom of the Holy Ghost. The programme of Catholic Action given to the Church today brings to our generation the salvation that was found in frequent Communion by the last generation,

NOT VAGUE

Perhaps some of the opposition or apathy comes from the fact that, despite the documents of the Holy Father, Catholic

Action itself is still a bit vague in certain minds. Once clear, it is not merely important; it is inevitable. It is not merely something that can be engaged in with profit to the Church, but it is something that must be engaged in if Catholics are to supply the world with that leadership and guidance which would bring it through the pressing perils that surround it.

Catholic Action, says the Holy Father in exact substance, is the participation of the laity in the apostolic mission of the Hierarchy.

Few sentences have ever been so packed with meaning and hope and prophetic promise.

WEARY SPECTATORS

Participation at once suggests an activity that has been all too lacking on the part of laymen and laywomen. Whether we like to admit it or not, the Catholic world has been filled with what we may rightly call “religious spectators.” They have sat passively by and watched the priests and the religious do the work. They have been interested, but only as a slightly inert audience watching others play a game or enact a play.

They have a slogan, these religious spectators, though they themselves are unaware of it. I never had thought of it myself until a certain evening when I took dinner with a former student, his new bride, and his mother. It was at his mother’s home, and when dinner was announced we went in together. I with that characteristic priestly wonder: Would anyone remember to ask me to say grace?

Quite according to custom, my hostess forgot, and was just about to sit down to dinner, when my young friend, a splendid Catholic, be it admitted, but a distinctly irreverent youth, lifted his hand in quick command and said: “Just a minute, mother.” Then he turned to me, and, with his famous grin, said: “Well, reverend, strut your stuff.” So I said grace.

A BAD SLOGAN

Then and often later I have felt that was the slogan of the great mass of Catholics, who have sat passively by watching the intense activities of the Church: “Reverend, strut your stuff.”

They go to Mass on Sunday, these inert Catholics, and there in the pews they watch the priest say Mass. That they could be offering together with the priest the Christ Who is victim both of priest and people never seems to occur to them. Mass is beautiful, restful, dignified, reassuring. But their part in the Mass is all too often less intensely personal than the response of an audience to a gripping play. “Reverend, strut your stuff.”

They watch the missionaries going off to the conversion of the pagan world, and watch them with approving pride. How splendid it is that we have such unselfishly apostolic priests, Brothers, and Sisters! With real appreciation, their applaud their efforts. But the realisation that the conversion of the pagan is their own task, too, and not only the task of missionary priest or religious never seems to dawn on them. They would not allow their sons to march off to war unless they planned for that work behind the lines, upon which depends the success of advancing armies; but they allow their priests and religious to go to make war upon entrenched paganism and forget that behind the lines work must go on unceasingly, “Reverend, strut your stuff.”

They hear the impressive words of Christ: “Go, teach all nations.” But easily they shift the burden of responsibility from their own shoulders to the shoulders of the priest or the teaching Brother or Sister. That to them were addressed Christ’s words of apostolic command never enters their consciousness. The priests are doing their part, aren’t they? And surely the charity work of our Sisters must impress the world. “Reverend, strut your stuff,” they say, and lapse back into their inertia.

SHOULDER TO SHOULDER

Then suddenly comes this challenge of the Holy Father. They learn, these religious spectators, that they are to be spectators no longer. They are to participate with the priests in their work for the world. Shoulder to shoulder with the clergy and religious of the Church, they are to move forward to a world conquest. Not alone or unguided are they supposed to take up their work, but in the sure companionship and under the certain guidance of those who are God’s special messengers to the world.

The wisdom of the Holy Father in suddenly calling the Catholic laity from apathy to activity is beyond all doubting. Human nature is so constituted that it cannot stay interested in anything of which it is a mere spectator. No one ever grew enthusiastic about golf or tennis by forming part of a gallery.

NONE EXEMPT

Hence, quite aside from all other considerations, Catholic Action has the instant appeal of interest. It transfers a man from a passive religious state into an active one. It vitalises his whole attitude towards religion. He becomes a companion with the priest in the work that Christ entrusted to His Church. Catholic Action, beyond anything ever given to the laity, will mean the awakening of religious enthusiasm.

“Laity” is the broad and inclusive word the Holy Father uses. This is an enterprise extended to the whole laity, men and women. None is exempted from the call. None can be excluded from the opportunities. The whole Catholic world is called to this new crusade, this new awakening of zeal for souls.

THE WORK OF BISHOP AND PRIEST

Just what is the apostolic mission of the Hierarchy? Why is a Bishop consecrated and a priest ordained? What is the work that is given to them to do? Once the answers to these questions are known, it becomes obvious what laymen and laywomen will be expected to share. For if they participate in the mission of the Bishops and priests, it is essential that they know in what that mission consists.

Those who regard religion as a gigantic system of don’ts and mustn’ts often seem to regard the Catholic priesthood as a sort of glorified spiritual police force. God gave the world His Ten Commandments. Then, in order to have these put into effective operation, He created His priesthood. The work of the priests, in this entirely mistaken concept, is the enforcement of the Ten Commandments. How utterly without inspiration would be a mission like that!

Slightly more dignified and impressive is another concept of the priest as a spiritual traffic officer. The road from earth to heaven is at best a difficult one. It lies over perilous stretches and detours, and God graciously designed His priesthood to direct the traffic safely along this crowded highway. Again, this is a gross understatement of the facts. Eager as the priesthood is to see mankind safely directed to heaven, this is still far from being its great apostolic mission.

GLORIOUS TRUST

The apostolic mission of the Hierarchy is the Host glorious work that could be entrusted to a human being. It is the envy of the angels. It was the glowing inspiration of the martyrs.

The apostolic mission of the Hierarchy is to bring Jesus Christ into human lives.

One pauses reverently before this highest of human callings. Then one realises with deep gratitude that the Holy Father has communicated this calling to the whole Catholic world. What the priest and the Bishop do in virtue of their priesthood, the laity do through a participation in that royal priesthood. It is the work of every Catholic who walks through the world to bring Jesus Christ into the lives of those with whom he associates.

CHRIST COMES TO MEN

We all know the way in which, first of all, the priest brings Christ into the world. In the cold of the dawn he goes up to the altar, that is so much like Bethlehem, and in the presence of a handful of worshippers, bends over the bread and wine upon the altar. “This is My Body. This is My Blood,” he says. And as Bruce Marshall puts it, “to the unheard fluttering of unseen wings,” Christ comes from heaven to earth to take up His place among His people. The priest has brought Christ physically into the world.

This is so important a work that for it priests have gladly died. Mass, through which Christ is brought among His people, the priest has known to be his highest privilege and supreme duty. And though the saying of Mass might mean deaths, as it did in the penal days in Ireland or the days of Tudor persecution in England, priests continued bravely to bring Christ down into the lives of those for whom He died and for whom He instituted the Mass.

ATHEIST TO MARTYR

Few men of modern times have the romantic appeal of the Abbé de Foucauld. For years this man had been a Godhating artillery captain in northern Africa. His attitude towards God had in it all the venom one finds in French atheists, and he moved with his regiments and batteries through Mohammedan Africa with neither faith nor hope nor charity.

Suddenly, through one of God’s miracles of grace, he became a convert and a Catholic. No convert ever hated his former folly more bitterly than did de Foucauld. He resigned from his battery, entered a Trappist monastery in France, and in a spirit of penance gave himself over to reparation for his former sins and blasphemies.

Yet all the while the memory of Mohammedan Africa lingered with him. As Mass was offered up in La Trappe, he thought of that huge black desert in which Christ had never come among his people. He grew heartsick as he recalled the vast spaces dotted with little villages and wandering tribes into which Christ had never come in the Eucharist.

GLAD DEATH

He became a priest. He begged for and obtained a dispensation to go to Africa. He there disguised himself as an Arab. He moved unsuspected into darkest Mohammedan Africa and found himself a little hut in the midst of a pagan village. Had anyone suspected that he was a Christian, death would have been inevitable. What would have been his fate if they knew him for a priest, he did not stop to consider.

In the hush of the dawn he said Mass in his little hut. There he reserved the Blessed Sacrament. There he lived, happy that he had brought Jesus Christ physically into a part of the world that He had never entered and among people who had closed their doors in His face.

And when they found him and the rifles rang out, de Foucauld fell a martyr of the Eucharist at the foot of his little altar, glad to give his life in so noble a cause. He had brought Jesus Christ into the lives and villages of Mohammedan Africa. Heroically he had done what each priest does when he brings the Eucharist Christ physically into the lives of humanity.

CHRIST TO HIS OWN

The moment of Communion comes. The priest turns from the altar and carries Christ to His rich and His poor, His happy and His sorrowing, His saints, His sorely tempted, His sinners, His young people surrounded by the perils of life, and His old people slipping quietly into the shadow of death.

The bride walks up the long aisle and at the altar she finds, not merely the young lover who is to be her husband, but the Christ of the Marriage Feast, brought down by the priest in the glory of the Nuptial Mass.

To the dying man facing with terror the unknown passage through death into eternity, the priest comes, bringing the Master of life and death to soothe the worries, strengthen the soul, reassure the troubled heart of the dying and guide him safely through the black gate into the eternal life that lies beyond.

Nothing else that the priest does is so significant as this bringing of Christ into the lives of His people.

YOUR SACRIFICE AND MINE

And now the Holy Father assures the faithful that, in measure, this is their work, too. They must help bring Christ physically into the world. They are to attend Mass, not as inert spectators, but as active participants in the glory of the liturgy. They are to realise that the priest does not offer the Mass in private. He is forbidden to do so except by special dispensation. Priest and people together offer the Mass, which is “your sacrifice and mine.” The missal of the priest is the laity’s prayer-book. The actions of the priest can be joined by their actions. Together priest and people bring Jesus Christ into the world and together they offer Him for the honour of His Father and for the salvation of the world.

Immediately that this idea is appreciated, Mass ceases to be a half-understood spectacle or an indolently-watched drama and becomes the vital action of a united priest and people, which action flows through all their actions of the day, until every act of the people and the priest throughout their lives is joined in merit to the sacrificial actions of Christ in the Mass. We may almost say that devotion to the Mass and appreciation of Catholic liturgy are at the very basis of Catholic Action.

WELCOMED

The Catholic well knows that the priest can give Communion to him only who willingly receives it. If it is the happy office of the priest to bring Christ into the lives of the faithful, it is the happy privilege of the people to welcome Christ into their lives. Only they can unlock the ivory door through which Christ enters their lives.

Beyond that, the more the individual Christian promotes Eucharistic devotion among others, the more general is he making this entry of Jesus Christ into human lives. The mother who makes Holy Communion a beautiful and personal thing to her children, the nurse who brings back her patient to the Sacraments, the business man who wins his partner to fidelity to his religious duties, the man or the woman who advances the Eucharistic reign of Christ-all are actively bringing Christ into the lives of men.

INTO M EN’S MINDS

The priest goes into the pulpit only after a long preparation, which has been uniquely devoted to the task of bringing Christ into his own mind and heart. Through his training for the priesthood he has been taught to pray. Through prayer he conversed with Christ and received from Christ those internal graces that made Him very real and very near and personal.

His classroom study centred about the doctrines and life of the Saviour. Christianity in its most dogmatic form is only a fuller explanation of the precious truths which Christ revealed to the world. Moral theology is only the application of Christ’s principles of living to the problems of ordinary and extraordinary conduct.

So, when the priest studies his dogmatic theology, he is learning precisely what Christ meant by the truth He revealed. When he studies his moral theology, he is investigating just what Christ wanted men and women to do in order to serve His Father and their fellow-men. When he studies the Scriptures, he is seeing Christ in prophecy and type, and then following Him through the fascinating history of His dealings with men as He walked the earth, its visible God, its Saviour, its Teacher, and its King.

The whole priestly training is an effort to bring into the mind and heart of the priest a thorough understanding of the personality, message, teachings and moral doctrines of Christ Our Lord. And this training the zealous priest supplements with his constant reading and study, and with his application of the principles of Christ to the problems of modern society.

THE TEACHER OF CHRIST

So, when he goes into the pulpit, he goes hoping to bring Jesus Christ into the mental lives of the people; He teaches them to know and love and understand the Saviour. He explains the principles and doctrines He gave to the world, so that they may apply these easily and readily to their own lives. He gives them the living Truth which is Christ, to combat the lethal errors which are anti-Christian. He feels himself not nearly so much the preacher as the teacher who must make his hearers vividly aware of the Saviour and all that the Saviour meant to His own times and means to ours. He leaves the pulpit hoping for one thing, that he has brought Jesus Christ into their minds.

Because of this he regards the teaching of little children as a privilege. His catechism class is the avenue down which he leads the little ones into the presence of the Lover of little children. He goes into the classroom of the older students knowing that from him they must come to a fuller appreciation of the fact that if Christ is in their minds, few problems will baulk them and few moral difficulties will be too strong for their conquest.

BACK TO LITERATURE

Inspired by the example of those splendid priests who have given the world great books, he writes, he edits a magazine or a newspaper, he becomes a pamphleteer. Never for a moment is he impressed with his own cleverness or the charm of his style. His one ambition is through his writing to enlarge on the explanation ofChrist’s truth. Christ is the hero of even these Catholic books in which He seems to appear but slightly. His solutions are the answers given by Catholic problem novels. He dominates the thought of the most brilliant priestly essayist. He inspires the poetry of the greatest Catholic poet. His message is carried to the world in the pages of every ably-edited Catholic magazine and newspaper.

TEACHERS ALL

Christ has been, to a terrifying degree, excluded from the mind of the modern world. Paganism and Christ are at desperate odds. Christ, par excellence, the world’s greatest Teacher, is not welcomed in modern school systems. Christ, fountain of truth, finds little cordiality in the authorities on world problems. Christ and His morality are not notably in b est sellers, current magazines, the great secular press.

So, with all their strength, zealous priests strive to keep Christ in the minds of the faithful, dominating their intellectual and moral life. They bring Jesus Christ to the intellectual world, Catholic and non-Catholic, through their teaching, preaching, writing, and editing.

This, too, is a function that the Holy Father shares with the laity. They must assist the priest in bringing Jesus Christ into the intellectual life of modern times. They, too, must carry the teacher of Teachers with His world-saving truth into the minds and hearts of our age.

FIRST FOR SELF

For this, as for the work of the priest, there must be careful preparation. Prayer in the Catholic Action programme is not a mere begging for favours. It is not just a pious running to the saints. It is direct and intelligent conversation with God. It is the thoughtful consideration of His life, His truths, the application of His life to our lives and of His doctrines and principles to our problems. This is mental prayer. Prayer becomes the closest possible approach of the soul to Christ, so that, with eyes fastened upon Him, a heart in tune with His, the Catholic, conversing easily with Christ, comes to know Him thoroughly, love Him deeply, and consult Him with faith and confidence.

An illtrained teacher is an ineffective teacher. If the Catholic layman and laywoman are to carry Christ’s truth to the world, a real effort must be made to master that truth. A Catholic education becomes at once a necessity. From kindergarten to post-graduate school the leader in Catholic Action must be trained under Catholic guidance.

LEARNING MORE OF CHRIST

The student in the Catholic school, realising that he will be called on some day to present Christ’s truth to mankind, sees in his religion and philosophy classes courses of paramount importance. He dares not leave his Catholic school with a skimped and smattering knowledge of his Faith. He must master it. He must see its reasonableness and its validity. He must learn to apply it to life and life’s manifold problems.

And, school over, the supplementary forces of correct and stimulating reading and membership in Catholic study groups are inevitable. The priest must never relax his study. The teacher in any line must keep abreast of his subject and move forward to new achievements. The specialist must read widely, study deeply, be alert to the developments in his particular field. And the man who understands the implications of Catholic Action will realise that his religious education and self-development must advance with the years. He is the priest’s associate in a difficult work, a lay teacher of the word, a specialist in religion as every Catholic is expected to be a specialist.

TONGUE-TIED

Catholics have been, regrettably enough, a strangely inarticulate race. Being so generally persecuted, they have often thought silence the safest course. Living surrounded by non-Catholics and often overwhelmed by their superior wealth and social prestige, reticence has been natural. Because of this reticence Catholic thought has not made on the modern mind an impress in any proportion to our actual numbers.

While all the world today is talking religion, usually false and stupid religion, Catholics shy away from the subject in exasperating fashion. Catholic solutions, which are Christ’s solutions, are not brought to bear on economic, moral, social and political ills, simply because Catholics are timidly silent.

If the world has not Christ in its mind, the fault is not altogether the world’s. The Catholics, who have Christ, have not offered Him to the minds about them.

TALKING THE TRUTH

The Catholic Action programme, then, demands that the Catholic layman and laywoman regard themselves as associated with the priest in bringing Christ and His truth to the minds of men.

This means a new articulateness on the part of Catholics. They must talk religion to one another in private conversations, in small club and society meetings, in study groups, in public gatherings. Words and phrases now infrequently heard must become easy and fluent on their tongues. Religion, the most absorbing subject in the world, can easily become the favourite subject of discussion. The Catholic who has learned to talk religion with fellow-Catholics soon finds it relatively simple to talk religion with non-Catholics. And he will find in both Catholic and non-Catholic associates a surprisingly respectful interest in Christ and what He means to the tossed and troubled modern era.

THE VOICES RISE

Under the inspiration of Catholic Action the Catholic Evidence Movement is inevitable in its growth. From pitches in Hyde Park, in talks before non-Catholic forums, in radio broadcasts, men and women are carrying the faith to wide and receptive audiences.

The priest finds himself supplemented by willing groups of catechists eager to teach the truths of Christ to little children who, because of poverty, remoteness from church or parental neglect, would otherwise never know them. Vacation schools under lay leadership or guidance of staff spring up to capture the errant fancies of the youngster turned loose by the summer holidays into the slums of big cities. Catholic young men and women visit rural districts where there are no Catholic schools, to bring Christ into the minds of the boys and girls who know Him but slightly.

A NEW NOTE STRUCK

Catholic Action has suddenly made the Cath olic lawyer realise that he must bring to his lawyers” associations Catholic solutions of legal and ethical problems. Christ was a lawyer with much to say to the modern man of law.

Catholic physicians have brought to their medical associations the viewpoints of Christ the Physician towards the poor, the needy, the insane, little children and women. He was very clear about the relative importance of body and soul. They have gallantly placed themselves between the helpless sick or the misguided well and pagan principles destructive of society.

Catholic business men have come to realise that Christ would not think that “all is fair in love, war, and business.” They have brought to groups of business men principles of justice and fair dealing and honesty singularly Christ-like.

Too little of this, however, has been done. The possibilities opened by Catholic Action are unlimited. Christ’s doctrines and Christian philosophy must still be taught to the professional, political, and business world. What a magnificent opportunity to the lay leader who gallantly carries the principles of Christ into the heart of the modern world!

REBIRTH

Throughout the civilised world has spread a great Catholic literary renaissance. Men have realised, with almost a shout, that inside the Church is to be found the truth that makes great literature and the beauty that makes great art. England, Ireland, France, parts of Italy and Austria are to-day pulsing with this reawakening of the world of art and letters to the inexhaustible sources of literary material revealed to the world by Christ. Christ has triumphantly re-entered the pages of world literature.

Inevitably Catholic Action inspires every man and woman who has an itch for the pen to take up that pen in the cause of Christ’s own truth. All too long the boundless store of Catholic certainties and Catholic verities has lain neglected. The beautiful romance of Catholic dogma, whether expressed in the wide sweep of the Communion of Saints or in the gemlike life of an individual saint, has been unrecognised even by Catholic writers. Today, however, the powerful pens of Catholics everywhere, the delicate artistry of Catholic poets, are being employed brilliantly to bring the truth of Christ and the beauty of Christ to the reading world.

As the course of Catholic Action moves forward, more and more young writers will realise that in the storehouses of Catholic doctrine and liturgy and ritual and history is the raw material of the greatest literature, literature that will help recreate a civilisation which has been dynamited by the pagan sceptics and the anti-moralists of the past thirty years.

NEEDED EVERYWHERE

If the world is to be saved, the spirit of Christ must enter it from every direction. Because his work is so varied and so diversified, demanding full energies and all his resources, the Catholic priest is forbidden by canon law to divide his interest with any strictly secular work. His day must belong twenty-four hours to God.

The prayers and energies of the priest are directed, in consequence, to bringing the spirit of Christ into the whole of life. Christ must dominate with His justice government and politics. Christ must enter freely into homes, creating there something of the spirit of the house of Nazareth Christ must be free to move through the business world, assuring fair treatment of employees and fair and honourable labour on the part of the employed. Christ belongs in the world of education, for His is the truth that will make men free.

Christ cannot he excluded even from recreation and entertainment, the theatre and the athletic field. His spirit must pervade the life of a man whether he be at work, at play, on the bench of the judge, or at the desk of the student. The ultimate office of the priest is to see that the spirit of Christ is brought to the whole of life.

NOT FOR SUNDAYS ONLY

Perhaps the obstacle which has kept the Church back more than anything else, except, of course, the bad example of bad Catholics, is the failure of Catholics to realise that religion is something that goes with a man throughout the entire week, and that Christ belongs almost less to the hours of churchgoing than to the hours of business, pleasure, politics, education, sport, leisure.

Catholic Action might, in consequence, be called twenty-four-hour-a-day religion. It simply communicates to the Catholic the realisation that he must carry the spirit of Christ with him every-where he goes. He must go from the Communion table to bring Christ with him to his home, his office, his workshop, his classroom, his athletic field, his gymnasium, his concert hall, his theatre. Christ must be invited to dominate all the activities of humanity. He may not be reserved for the brief period of a Sunday’s devotions or the swift flight of morning and evening prayer. The Catholic must take Christ with him into every form of human activity and into every field of human endeavour.

PREFACES

This is a tremendous order. To prepare for it the Popes have been issuing those significant preludes to Catholic Action, their Encyclicals on capital and labour, on education, on the home and family and marriage, on Church and State, on Christian charity, on zeal for the conversion of the world.

Graphically, and with astonishing foresight, the Popes have portrayed Christ as dominating the relationship of employer and workman. They have shown us the predominant place of Christ in education. They have shown His fundamental importance in the home and in the institution of marriage. The State dares not disregard Him if it wishes to avoid tyranny or anarchy. The non-Catholic world must be given the chance to see Him. not only in the beautiful doctrines of the Faith, but in the splendid practice of the individuals who profess that Faith.

DO, DON’T TALK

Following those broad textbooks of principles, the Pope called the Catholic world to put these principles into immediate practice. And their practice is Catholic Action.

The employer who realises the dignity of labour and the rights of those who follow in the footsteps of Christ the Carpenter is a man of Catholic Action. So is the employee who gives an honest day’s work for an honest day’s pay, and who refuses the seductive beckoning of the red flag.

The Catholic statesman or politician who brings honour and integrity with him into government, who remembers that above the State there is the power of a just God, who is scrupulously honest with the money of the people and scrupulously just in his support of just law, who remembers that there is a Supreme Judge even above a Supreme Court Justice, and a Ruler Who will call all rulers before His tribunal, is practising Catholic Action. The terrible scandal of graft, even of that contradiction in terms, “honest graft,” of corruption in office, tyranny in government, and the corresponding corruption of the voter, cannot exist once Christ has taken His rightful place in the world of statecraft.

CHRIST GOES ALONG

Catholic Action points with insistent finger to the thousands who know not Christ. Laymen and laywomen eagerly stand behind the forward moving army of Christ’s missionaries. Quite as eagerly they pray and work, by the convincing argument of example and by the clear light of Catholic viewpoint honestly and insistently expressed, for the conversion of the pagans nearer home.

Christ goes with the Catholic Senator to the capital; with the Catholic physician, not only to the hospital but to his learned societies; He is with the lawyer as he stands before the judge and jury or as he discusses legal ethics with his confreres; with the business man when he goes to the meeting of the board of directors, or that trying meeting when he must face disgruntled employees; with the educator as he enters his lecture hall or his laboratory.

Christ goes with the workman to his bench, and the stenographer to her typewriter; with the cook to her kitchen, and the mother to her nursery; with the Catholic labour leader to his union meeting; with the Catholic farmer to his fields or his cooperative society; with the aviator to his “plane, the seaman to his ship, the operator to his radio station, the officer to his regiment.

With equal insistence and with a sense of its supreme importance, Christ is welcomed to the world of recreation, entertainment, and sport. Christ of the open road and the rowers” bench, Christ the welcome guest of dinner parties; Christ the man’s man, will not be out of place in any form of amusement or in any type of sport that is decent, clean, really relaxing, and wholesomely entertaining. But if it is not decent or clean or really relaxing or wholesomely entertaining, not only is Christ out of place there, but so is every man and woman who cares for his own mental and spiritual health and the future of the human race.

WELCOMED TO HOMES

The place of Christ, Who gave us the perfect example of the Holy Family, in home life is clear enough. Christ must have His place in modern marriage, since it was the Christ of the Marriage Feast of Cana Who elevated marriage to its present dignity. Love grows from lust into sacred affection through the presence of Christ in the relationship of man and woman. And children become precious through the remembrance of the Child of Nazareth.

Imprimatur:

@ D. MANNIX,

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis.

Nihil obstat:

F. MOYNIHAN, Censor Deputatus. ********

The Canon of The Scriptures

BY REV. FATHER FELIX, 0.M.CAP

INDEX

FOR centuries before Our Divine Lord came on earth there was a firm and unquestioned tradition among the Jews that certain books which they possessed were written under divine inspiration and had divine authority for their contents. The study of these sacred books was regarded as a duty by every true Israelite-they were read in the Temple and in the Synagogue during divine worship; the text was frequently and carefully copied out by scribes (there was no printing in those days), the manuscripts were preserved and kept with the greatest reverence and thus the tradition and the books were handed down from age to age. These books, taken collectively or as a whole, were called by various names in various epochs of Jewish history. In Josue 24, 26 we have mention of “the volume of the law of the Lord”; Daniel the prophet speaks of them as “the books” (Dan. 9, 2-the article is not found in the English translation but it is in the original Hebrew text); the author of the prologue of Ecclesiasticus calls them “the law and the prophets and the other books,” and in 1 Machabees 12, 9 we have them entitled “the holy books.” In no instance is there any explanation given of the title so that we can conclude that these writers had in mind a well-known collection of sacred writings.

THE REDEEMER AND THE SACRED BOOKS

THEN, at a definite point in the world’s history, Christ Our Lord became man and was born and lived and preached on earth. Conceived by the Holy Ghost, He was born miraculously of a Jewish Virgin, and he grew up to manhood in Palestine among the Jewish people. Moreover His personal mission was primarily to the people of the Jews-”I was not sent but to the sheep that are lost of the house of Israel” (Matt. 15, 24). This is a matter of history, and all these facts have been recorded for us by the contemporaries and intimate companions of the God-man. It is of supreme importance therefore for us to know the attitude of Christ towards these sacred books of the Jews and towards the tradition which held them to be the very word of God. There can be no doubt of His attitude; that He accepted the books as the word of God is clear from many incidents in His life. When He was tempted in the wilderness at the beginning of His public ministry, He refused to follow out the suggestions made to Him by Satan. Three times this occurred, and on each occasion He gave as His, sole reason a quotation from the sacred books of the Jews to justify His conduct. The third refusal to obey the tempter is particularly emphatic-”Begone, Satan! For it is written: The Lord thy God shalt thou adore, and him only shalt thou serve” (Matt. 4, 10). In the ‘Sermon on the Mount’ He gives us clearly to understand that these sacred books are authoritative and unchangeable-”Do not think that I am come to destroy the law or the prophets. I am not come to destroy, but to fulfil For amen I say unto you, till heaven and earth pass, one jot, or one tittle shall not pass of the law . . .” (Matt. 5, 17–18). On another occasion when vindicating His divine mission against the Jews, He appealed to the authority of the sacred books again—” Search the Scriptures: for you think in them to have life everlasting. And the same are they that give testimony of me” (John 5, 39). Here He uses the word ‘Scriptures’ to denote the sacred writings we have been speaking of. It was a word much in vogue at that epoch, it occurs frequently in the writings of the apostles, and has been used ever since in the Christian Church.

THE APOSTLES AND DISCIPLES AND THE SACRED BOOKS

THE attitude of the companions and first followers of Christ to the sacred books of the Jews is precisely the same as the attitude of their Master. St. Matthew takes great pains to show that Christ fulfilled in His life and passion and death the prophecies in the Jewish scriptures. At the very beginning of the second gospel St. Mark quotes the scriptures under the usual formula which was then used-”as it is written.” St. Luke was a Gentile, and he too accepted the books of the scriptures, and acknowledged their divine authority. The same is true of all the apostles-their sermons and exhortations, as given in the Acts of the Apostles, abound in quotations from the sacred books, and their writings are full of evidences of their acceptance of the tradition of their divine origin. St. Paul says clearly: “All scripture, inspired of God, is profitable to teach, to reprove, to correct, to instruct in justice” (2 Tim. 3, 16). And this attitude is consistently maintained in the writings of the Fathers of the early Church.

THE CHRISTIAN SCRIPTURES

To these books which the Church received from the dying synagogue were added others, and these latter were accepted as being equally the word of God with the Jewish scriptures. There is a marked contrast between both collections of the Scriptures,-in the one there is always question of a future redeemer, and their message and hope is always directed to one nation, the Jews; whereas in those inspired books written after the coming of Christ the one great theme is the Redeemer Who has come and died, the way of holiness He has pointed out, and their message is for all men, Jews and Gentiles. For this reason the scriptures are divided into the Old and the New Testaments,-the Old Testament containing those books written before the Redemption, the New those written after the Redemption. These books have come down to us, the Church has preserved and handed on both Testaments, and they are accepted by Her with equal authority and reverence, and are both the word of God. Nowadays all the Scriptures are to be found printed in one volume, and this volume we call the Bible. The word ‘bible’ comes from the Latin of the Middle Ages-biblia, and biblia is not so much a Latin, as a latinised word, for it is derived from the Greek, and in Greek the word means simply ‘books.” The Scriptures’ and ‘the bible’ are therefore only two names for one and the same thing, viz.-those sacred books, which, “having been written under the inspiration of the Holy Ghost, have God for their author” (Council of the Vatican, chapter 2); and under the inspiration of the Holy Ghost means that “by supernatural power, God so moved and impelled the human authors to write-He was so present to them-that the things which He ordered and those only, they, first, rightly understood, then willed faithfully to write down, and finally expressed in apt words and with infallible truth” (Pope Leo XIII-Encyclical Letter-Providentissimus Deus-1893).

THE WHOLE BIBLE AND NOTHING BUT THE BIBLE

AT this point the question will naturally suggest itself: How are we to know that our Bible contains all the inspired books and none that are not inspired? The books themselves do not state in all cases that they are the word of God; Our Lord quoted the Scriptures of the Old Testament, but after all only a very small part of the whole; we have no written record of His having drawn up a list of the inspired books, and in any event the New testament was all written after His ascension into heaven; neither do the Apostles furnish us in their writings with such a list. This question is all the more important since the Jews at the time of Our Lord were not all of one opinion regarding the inspiration of certain books, and again certain books were circulated in the early centuries of Christianity which purported to be Scripture but which were rejected after a short time. And finally, to come down to present day affairs, if you open a Protestant edition of the Bible and compare it with our Catholic (Douay) version you may be surprised when you find that seven of the books of the Old Testament as given in the Douay bible are omitted in the Protestant version. And this brings us now to the question of “the Canon of the Scriptures,” the meaning of “Canon,” the history of the Canon, and the ‘authority for our catalogue or list of the books of Sacred Scripture.

THE CANON OF THE SCRIPTURES

CHAPTER I

THE language of the early Church was not Latin but Greek -Latin superseded it after a time. In consequence of this many words commonly employed in theology and Christian doctrine are derived from Greek and come to us through Latin. This is true of the word ‘Canon’ amongst others. In Greek it means a rule or measure, a rule such as carpenters use to test the accuracy of their work or to guide them when working. From this meaning the word came in time to signify a rule of faith or a rule of conduct. The Greek word indeed is employed by St. Paul in both of these significations, a rule of faith in Galatians 6, 16, and a rule of conduct in Philippians 3, 16.

Nowadays the word Canon is used frequently in theology, in various technical meanings. Thus we speak of Canons of the General Councils, e.g., the fourth Canon of the second chapter of the Vatican Council reads: “If anyone refuses to accept all the books of sacred scripture with all their parts, as the Holy Council of Trent enumerates them, for sacred and canonical, or denies that they are inspired by God-let him be anathema.” A canon in this sense is obviously a rule or test of orthodoxy in matters of faith. Again we speak of Canon Law which means those laws laid down by the legitimate authority in the Church as distinct from civil law-the laws laid down by the legitimate authority in the State. The name arose from the fact that the laws of the Church were from very ancient times called canons. The word canon in this particular matter means of course a rule of conduct. In the same way, too, we speak of canons of propriety. Certain priests have the title and dignity of Canon because they are members of a cathedral or diocesan chapter. The Canon of the Mass is that portion of the liturgy of the holy sacrifice which never varies.

THE CANON OF THE SCRIPTURES

FINALLY we have the term “Canon of the Scriptures.” It means the list or catalogue drawn up and promulgated by the Church of the books which are divinely inspired, and so possess infallible authority and contain truths revealed by God. The term came into use in the fourth century and is found in the writings of St. Chrysostom and St. Augustine. Canonical books (for the adjective also is found in the works of the early Fathers of the Church) are those books which the Church accepted and declared to be divinely inspired. There were books in the early centuries of our era which professed to be Scripture, were written in the style of the books we have in the Bible and bore biblical titles, but the Church rejected them and declared them not inspired by God. We call these apocryphal books. St. Athanasius speaks too of the canonised books, to denote the genuine Scriptures. In point of fact the adjectives canonical and canonised, as applied to the books of the Bible to distinguish them from the apocryphal or pretended Scriptures, were in use prior to the use of the noun canon. The word canonical would seem to imply that the term canon came to be employed because the Scriptures appertain to the canon or rule of faith. On the other hand, the word canonised would seem to point to a canon or list or authentic catalogue, just as a canonised saint is one whose name is formally placed on the list of the saints of the Church. This, of course, concerns only the derivation of the word. The collection of sacred books which we now call the Canon of Scripture, and which has been called by this name since the fourth century, and the Catholic doctrine which holds that the Church alone is the competent and the only competent and infallible judge of the question of the inspiration of these books-both of these realities existed long before the use of the terms canon and canonical. It was only a matter of finding a suitable theological term to embody the idea.

CANONICITY

For us, Catholics, then the criterion of canonicity is the teaching of the Church on the point. The Church has decided the question of the Canon of the Scriptures. The Latin vulgate bible is the official Bible of the Church, and contains the books which the Church has pronounced to be Scripture. And our Douay Bible is a faithful translation of the vulgate, reproducing the canon and the sense of the vulgate, and it has the approval and authorization of the competent ecclesiastical authorities. The writings, therefore, which we read in our Bible are the written word Of God, and contain revealed truths. These writings were inspired by the Holy Ghost, and we know they are inspired because the Church has pronounced them to be inspired. For us, this pronouncement of the Church makes them canonical. They were inspired of course at the actual time when they were being written in the original versions they became canonical when the Church acknowledged and made known the fact that they were inspired. It would avail us nothing that God had revealed His will to mankind in certain books unless He had also provided us with a means of knowing with certainty what books these were. The Church is that means, for the Church has authority to teach doctrines of faith and morals. The fact that the Holy Ghost “spoke through the prophets” is a doctrine of faith, it is contained in the Nicene Creed, and therefore it is to the Church we look for the criterion of canonicity. It is a. safe and a certain criterion, not alone that, but an infallible criterion. Further, it is the one and only safe and certain test or criterion.

THE CHURCH

This is a fundamental doctrine of our Catholic faith, and it is a doctrine which non-Catholics deny, consequently we must explain it at some length, and prove its truth. The Bible contains revealed truths-things we must believe and things we must do in order to attain to eternal life. But the bible is not the only source from which we know the truths which God has revealed or made known to man. We have tradition as well, i.e., truths handed down from the days of Our Lord and the apostles, which are not contained in the Scriptures, but were given orally by Our Lord or the apostles and conserved in the Church. And again, we have the teaching Church which tells us first of all what is Scripture and what is not, and then interprets both the Scriptures and tradition for us. Non-Catholics will not admit tradition as a source of revelation, nor will they admit the infallible authority of the teaching Church. But the existence of this tradition is proved conclusively from the following considerations. The gospels are the only historical records we possess of Our Divine Lord’s life on earth, save a passing mention of Josephus the Jewish, and Tacitus the Roman historian. Now in the gospels you will nowhere find that Christ commanded the apostles to write, -still less that He ever said that what they would write would be Scripture. He commanded them to go into the whole world and preach the Gospel to every creature (cfr. Mark 16, 15). Again, St. John at the conclusion of the fourth Gospel says that it would be utterly impossible to record in writing all that Christ did on earth-” There are also many other things which Jesus did: which, if they were written every one, the world itself, I think, would not be able to contain the books that should be written” (John 21, 25). Then in the Acts of the Apostles we read that St. Peter preached to a multitude in Jerusalem immediately after the first Pentecost. Three thousand people were baptized in one day, and we are told that “they were persevering in the doctrine of the apostles” (AA 2, 42). Now at this point in history not one word of the New Testament was yet penned. “The doctrine of the apostles” referred to was therefore oral, not written. The books which form the New Testament were written later, not to supplant this oral teaching but to strengthen and supplement it.

THE AUTHORITY TO TEACH INFALLIBLY

THAT the Church has power to interpret the meaning of Scripture, and traditions concerning faith and morals can be proved in a similar manner also. In the first of the four gospels it is clearly evidenced that Christ Our Lord founded a Church under the leadership of St. Peter. To Peter as Head of the Church He entrusted “the keys of the Kingdom of Heaven,” i.e., Peter was to be the administrator or vicar of Christ, to have supreme authority in the Christian society. To Peter also He gave the power to bind and to loose, i.e., to make laws. He promised also that the gates of hell should not prevail against the Church, and by the gates of hell He meant the powers of evil and especially Satan, who is the father of lies and error and deceit. This promise of Our Lord was made to Peter at Caesarea Philippi in the presence of all the Apostles. St. Matthew was one of the Apostles and therefore he witnessed the whole scene. And it is to him we are indebted for the account of it given in the Gospel. And for the words of the Saviour: “And I say to thee: That thou art Peter, and upon this rock I will build my Church. And the gates of hell shall not prevail against it. And I will give to thee the keys of the Kingdom of Heaven. And whatsoever thou shalt bind upon earth, it shall be bound also in heaven: and whatsoever thou shalt loose on earth, it shall be loosed also in heaven” (Matt. 16, 18–19). This power given to St. Peter was to endure until the end of time. We should have expected this in any event, for no one would think of limiting the existence of the Christian society and its constitution to one generation. But we have explicit testimony besides in the First Gospel where Our Lord is reported as saying:” Behold I am with you all days, even to the consummation of the world” (Matt. 28, 20), and this after He had promised that the Paraclete would teach them all truth and abide with them for ever (John 14, 16 and 26).

These are the words of Our Divine Lord, they were spoken in very solemn circumstances and the language is very emphatic. They admit of only one interpretation: there is clearly question of a visible society, its end to save souls and provide means of sanctification consisting of pastors and flock united under one central authority; it will endure until the end of time, and, built upon a sure foundation and endowed with power and authority from God, it will be an infallible teacher of God’s revelation. How St. Paul understood these texts can be gathered from his first epistle to St. Timothy (3, 15) where he says that the Church is “the pillar and ground of the truth.” In this way too these words of the Saviour were understood and interpreted by the Fathers of the early Church. Nowadays, in theological controversy, the teaching of the early centuries of Christianity is much quoted, and non- Catholics as a rule will recognise its force as an argument. Consequently it may be well to give here just a few of many testimonies which bear on this question of the Church as the judge of the Canon of the Scriptures. Origen lived in the third century; he was a learned man, he travelled extensively, wrote many books (thousands according to Eusebius) and was above all a scripture scholar. Treating of this very question of the books which are to be accepted as canonical he says in his third homily on the gospel according to St. Luke: “In all these we approve of nothing excepting what the Church approves of, that is, that only four gospels are to be received.” St. Cyril of Jerusalem lived in the fourth century and wrote a work called Catacheses, which is a complete course of Christian Doctrine. In it he says with regard to the scriptures: “Meditate upon and study only those books which we read in the Church with complete confidence.’ St. Augustine flourished at the end of the fourth century. His testimony is very strong for he is regarded as the greatest doctor of the western Church, and he says: “I indeed would not believe in the gospels if the authority of the Catholic Church did not compel me” (Contra Ep. Manichaei 5, 6). This is clear and emphatic and to the point.

“IT IS A GOOD THING TO LEARN FROM THE ENEMY.”

THE methods of attack used by non-Catholic writers, both protestant and rationalist, bear eloquent testimony to the truth of the Catholic teaching. As Father Leopold Fonck, S.J., points out in his reply to Harnack’s denial of the authority of the text, “thou art Peter, etc.” (in Biblica, Vol. 1, p. 240, Rome, 1920) the early Protestants admitted that the text was genuine but denied the traditional interpretation given to it, whereas nowadays a complete reversal of method has come into vogue-for they concede that the traditional interpretation is the only one possible, but deny the historical value of the text, and attempt to prove it was inserted in the gospel in the course of the second century. This change of tactics is not without its significance surely. The whole question and the conclusion to which it clearly points is developed at length in a book-Prophets, Priests and Publicans by J. P. Arendzen, pp. 11–12-London, 1926. The stability of the doctrine of the Catholic Church down through the centuries is in striking contrast to the shifting nature of Her opponents, ever moving their position from one point to another. These changes of tactics on the part of the adversaries denote that they have failed to shake the fortress of the Catholic teaching. This in itself shows the power of the Church and argues in favour of her claims. One is inevitably reminded of those other words of Our Lord in the gospel concerning the “wise man that built his house upon a rock. And the rain fell and the floods came and the winds blew: and they beat upon that house. And it fell not, for it was founded on a rock” (Matt. 7, 24–25).

CHAPTER II

THE BIBLE OF THE CATHOLIC

WE have seen then that the Bible is a holy book, containing revealed truths, and that it is only one source of revelation-apostolic tradition is another. And the Church interprets both of these and makes them clear for us. The Bible does not give a list of the books that are inspired, yet this appertains to faith and so we must go to tradition to find this list-the Canon of the Scriptures. All the truths necessary for salvation were revealed to the Apostles, for the Paraclete would teach them “all truth” on the word of Christ Himself. Public revelation in the Church ceased therefore at the death of the last of the apostles. Now, the Church can interpret and define the truths given by tradition, and so She can lay down the Canon of the Scriptures and She has done so. This does not mean a new revelation, it is simply determining what was already revealed. The ordinary Catholic is not compelled to study the whole history of early Christianity, therefore, so as to find out the Canon of the Scriptures. The canon is defined by the Church, and that canon is contained in the Bible as approved by the Catholic Church. It is forbidden to Catholics to edit or print the Bible in any language without the approval or imprimatur of the bishop of the place where it is edited or printed. And this approval is a guarantee in every case that the edition in question contains the Catholic canon, no more and no less.

THE CONTENTS OF THE CATHOLIC BIBLE

IF you open any Douay Bible, therefore, you will find the Canon of the Scriptures. The canon as given in the Douay version is an exact reproduction of the canon of the Latin vulgate. The Latin vulgate was edited and published as the official Bible of the Church in 1592 A.D. by Pope Clement VIII, and it contained the canon as defined in the Council of Trent, session 4. The canon as defined in Trent is exactly the same as the canon defined in the Council of Florence, in 1441 A.D. These definitions of the Councils of Florence and Trent were called forth by reason of the fact that heretics had arisen who denied the traditional teaching. The Latin vulgate which Pope Clement edited and its canon had heretofore been accepted everywhere in the middle ages without question. The same Canon of the Scriptures which we have in the Council of Trent is found again in a pronouncement of Pope Innocent I. Exuperius, Bishop of Toulouse, wrote to the Pope in 405 A.D. asking instructions on certain matters, among others on the Canon of the Scriptures. In the Pope’s reply we have the canon. And it is worthy of note that although the books are not given in the same order as in ‘Trent, still we have the same number of books and the same books precisely. Going back further still into the history of the Councils we find the same canon drawn up in the third Council of Carthage, 397 A.D., and a note added to the effect that the Church of Rome be consulted for the confirmation of this canon. Earlier still, in 382 A.D. we find the canon again in the Acts of the Synod of Rome held under Pope St. Damasus I. This is probably the earliest authoritative pronouncement we have on the question.

ONE AND UNCHANGING

ALL this bears eloquent testimony to the stability and unchanging nature of the teaching of the Catholic Church. These documents and the catalogue of the books of Scripture which they furnish can be found in the various editions of the decrees and decisions of the Councils. I have taken them from an approved hand-book which is largely used by students of theology; we call it “Denzinger” for brevity, its full title is Denzinger-Bannwart-Umberg,-Enchiridion Symbolorum Definitionum et Declarationum de rebus fidei et morum15-Freiburg (Bresgau), 1922. The number of the books of Scripture and their titles as given in those Councils to which I referred above are exactly those which the ordinary Catholic layman has in his Douay Bible.

THE NAMES OF THE BOOKS

THE Bible consists of the New and the old Testaments, the Old being of much greater bulk than the New. The Old Testament books are divided into historical, didactic and prophetical books. The historical books are so called not because they contain nothing but sacred history-but because sacred history is a prominent feature in them. These historical books are: the five books of Moses, or the pentateuch, viz., Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers and Deuteronomy. They furnish us with an account of the creation, fall, and the chief events in the religious history of mankind down to the death of Moses. Next we have the book of Josue which describes the conquest of Chanaan (later called Palestine) by the Hebrew people led by Josue, and the book of Judges giving their history in Chanaan” before the institution of the monarchy. Ruth tells of the Moalite woman of that name who is mentioned in the gospel in the genealogy of Our Lord, and of how she, though a Gentile, married into the Hebrew race. The four books of Kings and the two of Paralipomenon give the history of the Hebrews under Samuel, the last of the Judges, and under the monarchy until the Babylonian captivity in the seventh century B.C. The two books of Esdras treat of the return from the captivity. Tobias, Judith and Esther treat of the history of the individuals by whose names they are called, and at the end of the Old Testament we have 1 and 2 Machabees which describe various vicissitudes in Jewish history under the Ptolemies and Seleucids from about 330 to 100 B.C.

THE DIDACTIC BOOKS

THE didactic books are so called because they teach precepts and counsels of morals and prudence. They are seven in number, viz., Job, Psalms, Proverbs, Ecclesiastes, Canticle of Canticles, Wisdom, and Ecclesiasticus. Of these the psalter (the collection of 150 psalms) is made up entirely of hymns, or prayers in poetical form, many of which are composed by King David, the father of Solomon. They have been used from very remote times in the liturgical worship of both the Old and the New Law. The psalter forms the chief portion of the Office of the Breviary.

THE PROPHETS

JUST as the historical books are not made up entirely historical narrative, so also the prophets are not all concerned with predictions of future events. In fact, the word prophet in Old Testament times meant rather a spokesman of God or a preacher. Still, prophecy, in our restricted meaning of the term, does form a large feature of the books classed under this heading, for hope in the future Redeemer was ever a common theme of the sermons of the Old Testament times. The prophets are divided into major and minor; Baruch is in a class by itself, but as the author was secretary and amanuensis of Jeremias, the book of Baruch is usually included under Jeremias. This gives four major prophets: Isaias, Jeremias (Lamentations and Baruch included with the prophecy of Jeremias), Ezechiel and Daniel. The minor prophets are twelve in number: Osee, Joel, Amos, Abdias, Jonas, Ilicheas, Nahum, Habacuc, Sophonias, Aggeus, Zacharias, and Malachias.

THE NEW TESTAMENT

AN old division of the books of the New Testament into gospels and apostles, found as early as the time of St. Irenaus is based on this, that while two of the four canonical gospels were written by disciples of the apostles-SS. Mark and Luke, all the remaining books are the work of actual apostles. Using the same triple division we had above for the Old Testament we have in the New-the historical books: the four gospels and the Acts of the Apostles: the didactic books: fourteen epistles of St. Paul and the seven Catholic epistles; and one prophetical book: the Apocalypse of St. John.

THE NUMBER OF THE BOOKS OF SCRIPTURE

THERE are first of all twenty-seven books in the New Testament. In the Old Testament if you consider Lamentations and Baruch as forming one book with the prophecy of Jeremias you have a total of forty-four. In order to help the memory, however, this mnemonic plan has been devised. By including Lamentations with Jeremias and regarding Baruch as a separate book we have forty-five books in the Old Testament. Forty-five and twenty-seven make a total of seventy-two, and seventy-two is easily remembered, for it is the number of the disciples sent to preach by Our Lord (in Luke 10, 1). It is an additional aid in this system that in Arabic numerals 72 is 27 reversed. It is worth noting that St. Luke, the author of the third gospel and the Acts of the Apostles, is the only gentile among the human authors of the books of Scripture.

THE TOTALITY OF INSPIRED BOOKS

AN interesting point arises just here. The Church guarantees that the books in Her Canon are each and all inspired. We are bound to accept them as inspired and canonical; to refuse to do so is heresy. But does the Church claim that this canon is so complete as to include every book that was ever inspired? In other words, is it possible that some inspired books have been lost, and are no longer available? The declarations of the Church are concerned with the books which we have, and therefore She has nothing to say with regard to other books not in Her canon which may have been inspired but are lost. She guarantees that Her Bible contains inspired books, that all the books in it are inspired; but She does not deal with the question as to whether it contains all the books that have ever been inspired. This is, therefore, an open question. At first sight it would seem impossible that an inspired book should be lost, we would expect that God’s providence would prevent it. But many Catholic writers hold that if it were question of a book inspired for a particular purpose, and not committed to the custody of the Church such a book could have been lost in time. Father Cornely, S.J., is of this opinion (Compendium Introductionis p. 56) and he quotes St. Thomas Aquinas in support of it. To come to facts-many books are mentioned in the Old Testament and even prophecies, e.g., the book of Samuel the seer and the book of Nathan the prophet (1 Paralip. 29, 29), and it is quite possible that they were inspired books. A still better example, however, is an epistle which St. Paul mentions as written by him to the Laodiceans (Col. 4, 16).

He commands the Colossians to send their epistle (our canonical Colossians) to the Laodiceans and to get his epistle to the Laodiceans and have it read in the Church at Colossae. He makes no distinction between the two epistles as regards their authority; Colossians is certainly inspired and canonical, hence it is implied that the other was inspired also. The epistle to the Laodiceans is lost (we have a short letter of one chapter with this title among the apocrypha of the New Testament, but it does not go back beyond the third century and is only a repetition of portion of Ephesians), hence it seems probable that an inspired book may be lost. This question does not effect the Catholic position in the least-the Bible is only one of two sources of revelation for us, but it is a very annoying possibility for those who appeal to “the Bible and the Bible alone” for their rule of faith, that such books as those we mentioned may have been inspired and yet are lost.

OLD CALUMNIES NEVER DIE

THIS, therefore, is the Canon of the Scriptures as laid down and defined by the Church; before leaving the question of the Church and her authority to define the nature and content of inspiration, however, it may be well to mention and meet an old calumny which is often used against the particular Catholic doctrine which concerns us here. It is an old objection and has been refuted hundreds of times. Yet only last year it appeared again and was urged quite seriously in a book by two non-Catholics in reply to Father Vernon’s account of his conversion to Catholicism. The objection then is this: Catholics prove from the New Testament Scriptures that the Church is infallible. And they prove the authority of the scriptures from the Church. Hence, there is what is called a vicious circle in argument. The reply to this is quite simple: Catholics take the New Testament, and regarding the books thereof as merely historical records, abstracting for the moment from the fact of their inspiration, they prove from the human testimony of those who saw and heard Him that Christ was God and that He founded an infallible society, His Church, and left in it power to rule and teach and sanctify, to preserve and expound God’s revelation. Then from that Church they accept the Canon of the Scriptures. No one will have the hardihood to deny to the man Levi who afterwards became St. Matthew, or to St. Luke the physician of Antioch, or to John Mark of Jerusalem the same authority we give to the pagan Thucydides. Very well then. Leaving aside for a moment the sacred character of the books written by SS. Matthew, Mark, Luke and John and looking on them as simple history we can prove-we cannot but prove-the divine mission and the divine nature of -Christ, and this proved, the doctrine of the Church follows, and there is no vicious circle whatever in the argument.

. . . A REASON OF THE HOPE THAT IS IN YOU.”

THIS very point is basic and fundamental in Catholic apologetics, and yet it is continually being either deliberately ignored or at least misunderstood by non- Catholic writers when they come to controversy. This booklet will be read chiefly by intelligent lay Catholics (if it is read at all). Now, by getting these few points clear and in order-the method by which the divinity of Christ is established from history, the proofs of the infallible authority of the Church in Her teaching on matters of faith and morals, Her authority in this matter of the Scriptures to point out that these books which treat of Christ and His life on earth are not only history but something more-the very word of God; and then Her power to discern what is and what is not the word of God-by this means you will be able, as an intelligent lay Catholic, to defend the Church of Christ from the calumnies of enemies, to assist honest-minded persons who are outside the true fold but genuinely eager to know the truth and thus “to satisfy everyone that asketh you a reason of the hope that is in you” (1 Peter 3, 15). And should this booklet come into the hands of a non-Catholic, I submit that this- a plain statement of the Catholic teaching on the question of the canon-is a strong doctrinal position and a clear line of argument.

CHAPTER III

THE TRADITION OF THE CANON OF THE SCRIPTURES

WE have seen that an official pronouncement of the third Council of Carthage on the Canon of the Scriptures was confirmed by the Pope at the beginning of the fifth century. It was at this time, too, that St. Jerome produced his famous translation of the Scriptures in Latin. This Latin Bible was accepted and used throughout the Church and already in the seventh century had come to be known as the “Vulgate” or commonly accepted Bible. It contains the canon as defined in Trent. It now remains for us to consider briefly the history of the canon before the end of the fourth century.

PROTO-CANONICAL AND DEUTERO-CANONICAL BOOKS

HERE we meet a new division of the books of the Bible. It is a division which belongs, and could belong, only to the period when canonicity was a matter of pure tradition, and before the Church ‘had pronounced judgement on that tradition. The proto-canonical books are those books which were accepted unanimously from the first as canonical, that is to say there was never any doubt of their inspiration. The deutero-canonical books are those books of the Bible concerning the canonicity of which there was doubt in certain places for a certain time. It is important to remember that this distinction is between the books which were accepted unanimously from the first and those which were accepted, but not without a certain amount of doubt and hesitation in certain places. A tradition, to be certain and infallible, must be a tradition of the whole Church Catholic, i.e., held by the majority of the members of the whole Church. This can be true in any single instance and yet the tradition may not be known to an individual, or to several individual members; or it may be unknown to or even rejected by all the members of a particular place. The distinction, therefore, into proto-canonical and deutero-canonical by no means affects the nature or the authority of the books-they are all equally inspired and equally canonical. It is a distinction which has a historical meaning and value and nothing more. There are proto- and deutero-canonical books of both the Old and the New Testaments, and it will be more convenient to treat of each Testament separately. Taking the Old Testament first, the deutero-canonical books are: Tobias, Judith, Wisdom, Ecclesiasticus, Baruch, 1 and 2 Machabees, and parts of Esther and Daniel, viz., Esther 10, 4 to the end, and Daniel 3, 24 -3, 90 and chapters 13 and 14 (the last two chapters). These deutero-canonical portions of the Old Testament are not printed in the Hebrew Bible nor in the Protestant Bibles, so we must now consider their history so as to trace the spread of the tradition regarding their inspiration.

THE OLD TESTAMENT BEFORE THE CHRISTIAN ERA

FROM the Old Testament itself we have evidence in plenty to show that there was a well-known collection of sacred books among the Jews, but when it comes to determining what books exactly these were we find very little direct evidence in the Bible. From Josue 24, 26 we know that the “law,” i.e., the five books of Moses and Josue itself were received as Scripture from the first. 1 Kings 10, 25 would point to the same conclusion with regard to the writings of Samuel. We know that collections of the Psalms and of the Proverbs were made. Daniel 9, 2 speaks of Jeremias the Prophet and of “the holy books” in one breath; the Prologue of Ecclesiasticus dating from about 200 B.C., gives “the law the prophets and the other books.” But nowhere in the Bible do we find a list of the Scriptural books. We must depend, therefore, on Jewish tradition.

THE TWO JEWISH CANONS OF THE SCRIPTURES

WE find this tradition most easily in the Scriptures as they have come down to us from pre-Christian times, and here we have clear evidence of two canons. We have first of all the Old Testament in the Hebrew language, from which St. Jerome translated. He marks the places where the Hebrew text finishes, and tells us he had recourse to other sources for the books and parts of books we called deutero-canonical above. And if we get a copy of the Bible in Hebrew today we find, sure enough, that it contains only the proto-canonical Old Testament. This is often spoken of as the Palestinian canon, though a better title would be the canon according to the Pharisees. The Scribes and Pharisees would consider no book to be canonical unless it were written in the sacred language-—Hebrew. And yet even among the Rabbis in Palestine itself there must not have been unanimity on the point, for traces of the deuterocanonical books have been noted in the Talmuds, and Josephus Flavius, who belongs to the sect of the Pharisees, mentions facts in his “Antiquities” that are recorded only in the deutero-canonical books. This would not be surprising of course if he had not given us to understand in the proemium of this work that he would quote only the sacred books of the Jews. It is certain, however, that one school of thought among the Jews considered the canon to have been completed at the death of Esdras.

On the other hand, we have what is called the Alexandrian or Septuagint canon, containing the full catalogue of the books of the Old Testament. The Scriptures were translated into Greek between 300–130 B.C. for the benefit of the Jews outside of Palestine, and especially of those in Egypt. This version is known as the Septuagint and it contains all the books of the Old Testament as given in the Canon of Trent. At the time of Our Lord, therefore, there were two canons of the Old Testament among the Jews. How this division of opinion on such a vital matter came about cannot be answered with certainty. One explanation offered, and a plausible one, is that in the old law the prophets were the judges of the canon. The prophets ended with Malachias (some consider this another name for Esdras), and hence there was no one to judge of the inspiration of those books written after his time. Certain it is that in the reign of Josias, when “the book of the law” was found in the temple by Helcias (the high priest), Helcias and Saphan the Scribe and others went to consult Holda the prophetess (4 Kings 22, 8–16). And again in several places these later books lament the lack of a prophet in Israel (cfr. 1 Mach. 8, 27 and 14, 41).

“THE FULNESS OF THE TIME” (Gal. 4, 4).

THE great issue here of course is the choice of Our Lord and the Apostles in the matter of these two rival canons. There is no direct evidence in the New Testament. No catalogue of the books of the Old Testament is given; Our Lord merely speaks of: “the law and the prophets” (Matt. 5, 17) and of “the law of Moses, the prophets and the psalms” (Luke 24, 44). We have, however, indirect evidence in abundance to show that the canon He accepted was the Alexandrine. The deutero-canonical books are never quoted in the New Testament, but then neither are all the protocanonical. That the deutero-canonical were accepted by Our Lord and the Apostles and given to the Christian Church is proved first of all by the quotations from the Old Testament which we have in the New. Of these there are about three hundred and fifty, and not more than fifty of the total number are quoted from the Hebrew-the remainder are taken from the Septuagint version. Scholars can easily determine for us whether a given quotation is from the Hebrew or the Septuagint because the Septuagint is scarcely ever a literal translation, and even where it is, a characteristic word or phrase will betray the source. Now, the acceptance of the Alexandrine version must mean the acceptance of the Alexandrine canon also-otherwise we should have some trace of a warning to this effect. Not alone is there no trace of such a warning anywhere, but on the contrary the deuterecanonical books were read as Scripture in the early Church and were quoted as Scripture from the first in the writings of the Fathers of the Church. Thus, Pope St. Clement of Rome, writing to the Corinthians about 100 A.D., proposes Judith as an example for the faithful. He speaks of her as “Blessed Judith,” says she was “strengthened by divine grace,” and tells of her exploits against Holofernes (1 Clem. to the Cor. 55, 3–4). Obviously, therefore, he accepted the deutero-canonical book of Judith. Incidents from the deutero-canonical books are depicted in the paintings discovered in the catacombs, and finally the Alexandrine version and canon have come to us at all, only because they were accepted and used and handed down by the Christian Church.

THE CANON OF THE NEW TESTAMENT

THE same distinction into proto-canonical and deuterocanonical books obtains in the New Testament also. Here the deutero-canonical are: Hebrews, James, 2 Peter, 2 and 3 John, Jude, Apocalypse. The four gospels, the Acts, and St. Paul’s epistles (except Hebrews) were accepted as Scripture from the first. In 1 Timothy 5, 18, we have a quotation from the gospel under the formula “the Scripture saith,” and in 1 Peter 3, 16, St. Peter speaks of the epistles of St. Paul and the other Scriptures. Traces of all the proto-canonical books can be seen in the writings of the Apostolic Fathers. Even the early heretics in their writings bear witness indirectly to the firm and clear tradition of the Church that the New Testament was inspired, for they try to interpret certain passages in a manner favourable to their own heretical tenets.

No little difficulty in the formation of the canon of the New Testament was caused in the second and third centuries by the great number of works circulated and called by Scriptural names, which were in reality apocryphal. Some of these were plainly heretical and had brief vogue, but many were hard to be distinguished from genuine Scripture. The mere titles of all these would occupy several pages. It argues for a very clear tradition regarding the canon that these books were definitely set aside as apocryphal before the end of the fourth century, and that the doubts regarding the deutero-canonical were finally settled at the third Council of Carthage in 397 A.D.

THE EPISTLE TO THE HEBREWS

THE style of this epistle is in contrast to the style of the other epistles of St. Paul. Nowhere is the Apostle’s name mentioned, and the Greek is smooth and polished. For this reason doubts arose regarding the authorship, especially in the west, and this led to further misgivings as to whether it was canonical. The explanation of the cause of these doubts seems to be that St. Paul did not wish to make the authorship known to the Jews. They regarded him as a renegade and persecuted him mercilessly. The language can be explained on the hypothesis that he employed an amanuensis.

JAMES, JUDE, 2 PETER, 2 AND 3 JOHN

THE difficulty in establishing the canonicity of these books was that they were circulated very slowly. St. James as

Bishop of the Church of Jerusalem and afterwards Pella, was to a great extent cut off from the rest of Christendom; 2 and 3 John were written in the first instance to private individuals, Elect and Gaius; but Jude and 2 Peter are of general or catholic import, so that it is hard to account for their tardy acceptance unless their very brevity may have been a factor.

THE APOCALYPSE

THE last book of the New Testament was received generally both in the east and the west until the third century. Then the Chiliasts or Millenarists (heretics) misused it to prove their tenet of a millenium. To refute these Dionysius of Alexandria and others attacked the authenticity of the Apocalypse so that it came under suspicion in the east for a time. These doubts were not more than local and always short-lived. From the fifth century, they are scarcely known in history.

THE CANON IN THE MIDDLE AGES

THE canon was accepted everywhere in the Church during the Middle Ages, and the strength of the tradition of which the Councils of Rome and Carthage are the expression is clearly seen from the following considerations. The Syriac translation of the Bible was short five of the deuterocanonical books of the New Testament, viz., Jude, 2 Peter, 2 and 3 John, and the Apocalypse. These were added to the then existing Syriac Bible by Philoxenus early in the sixth century. This same Philoxenus was not noted for orthodoxy in other matters, so his action cannot be dismissed by adversaries as due to a desire to follow the Roman canon merely. He must have been forced by the general practice and tradition of the whole Church. Again, the Greeks accepted the canon in the third Council of Constantinople (680 A.D.), and retained it both for the Old and New Testament even after the schism of Photius in the ninth century. The Greeks, too, were always hostile to the Western Church and suspicious of Roman usages and traditions, and yet they held to the Canon of the Scriptures used in the Latin Church and authorised by the Popes. It is significant too that St. Jerome, to whom we owe the vulgate translation of the Bible, did not himself believe in the inspiration of all the deutero-canonical books. He was doubtful of the inspiration of the epistle of St. James in the New Testament and of Wisdom and Machabees and perhaps others of the Old. Yet he translated the whole Bible, and where the Hebrew text of the Old Testament was short (and the Hebrew was his guide in the matter of the canon) he took pains to supply the missing portions from Greek sources. Thus, St. Jerome- the greatest authority in his day on matters Scriptural as a scholar-waived his own opinion in favour of the general tradition.

THE TRADITION OPPOSED

THIS Canon of the Scriptures was accepted without question until the rise of Protestantism in the sixteenth century. In place of the age-long and unanimous tradition of the Catholic Church, Luther interposed his own authority as the criterion of canonicity. Thus in his translation of the Bible into German he omitted such protocanonical books as Paralipomena and Ecclesiastes, retaining the deutero-canonical 1 Machabees; in the New Testament he omitted Hebrews, James, Jude and Apocalypse. Later on under the influence of Karlstadt’s treatise on the canon in 1520 Luther changed his views on the question. Now the essence of a rule or criterion or canon is that it be fixed and unvarying. Zwingli held that the Holy Ghost made known the inspiration of the books to the reader in each individual case. This would be a multiplication of miracles surely, and anyhow its failure as a criterion is clearly proved from the historical fact that the various Protestant leaders had each his own canon of the books.

For English Protestants article six of “the thirty-nine articles” of faith accepts as Scriptural only those books the authority of which was never called in question. In consistency with this the modern (Revised Version) Protestant Bible omits the deutero-canonical books of the Old Testament; but in obvious contradiction to this same article, and to the early Protestant leaders generally, it prints the New Testament in full-the twenty-seven books as in the Douay and Vulgate. This complete lack of consistency shows clearly that the Protestant doctrine furnished no authoritative criterion whatever by which the canon of the Scriptures may be known.

CONCLUSION

1. The Canon of the Scriptures, therefore, is the list of the books which were inspired by the Holy Ghost, have God for primary author and are in consequence the written word of God. The question of the canon appertains to the deposit of faith, and so it must be decided either in Scripture itself or in tradition, as interpreted by the Church. The list of books is not given in Scripture itself; the books of the Bible do not testify that they are each inspired; we cannot determine the question by reading them, and hence tradition supplies the canon. That tradition was clearly outlined from the first; but in certain places doubts obtained in regard to certain books, while in others apocryphal books were circulated and read as Scripture. To put an end to these difficulties the Church drew up an authentic list of the books of the Scriptures. This was a clear and authoritative interpretation of the tradition. It was intended to remove all doubt, and It did remove all doubt. That list has been accepted in the Catholic Church ever since; those who questioned it did so because they had broken with the Church.

2. The Church with the Pope as Her head made that canon in the sense that the Synods of Rome and Carthage gave expression to the tradition commonly and generally held with regard to the number and names of the inspired books, and the decisions of these Councils were approved and confirmed by the successor of St. Peter. That approval was renewed by St. Innocent I, and again in the General Councils of Florence, Trent and the Vatican. It is a rule of faith for all Catholics, and not to accept it is heresy and a denial of the Christian faith.

3. The authority in the Church to lay down this canon and enforce its acceptance comes from Christ, Our Divine Lord-God and Man-Who, while on earth, as we know from the history of His life, founded His Church on the rock of St. Peter and St. Peter’s successors in the Papacy, giving him and them authority and power to feed His lambs and His sheep. The remaining apostles and their successors in the episcopacy under the headship of St. Peter and the Popes are the foundation of that mystical edifice, and under the jurisdiction of the bishop of Rome, the Pastor of Pastors, they have authority to teach and rule and sanctify.

4. The authority of the Church to teach doctrines of faith and morals is an infallible authority. The same Holy Spirit, Who spoke through the prophets and apostles was sent from God the Father at the prayer of Christ to teach the Church all truth and abide with it forever. And Christ, “the author and finisher of faith” (Hebrews 12, 2), promised that the gates of hell and sin and error would never prevail against that Church and that He Himself would be with those whom He placed in authority over it “even to the consummation of the world” (Matt. 28, 20).

P.S. The dimensions of this booklet did not allow of anything like a full treatment of the history of the canon, neither did its purpose call for such. It gives the doctrinal rather than the historical aspect of the question. For anyone who would require a full treatment of the history of the Canon of the Scriptures any hand-book of introduction to the study of the Bible will supply the need. Of these I mention four both for reference and also because I wish to acknowledge them as sources for what is contained in these pages:

1. RUDOLF CORNELY, S.J.,-Historical et criticae Introductionis in U. T. libros sacros compendium-Paris

1914.

2. INSTITUTIONES BIBLICAE (Fasciculus 1, liber 1) by the Professors of the Pontifical Biblical Institute,

Rome. (1925).

3. P. HILDEBRANDUS HOPFL, O.S.B. Introductionis in sacros U.T. libros compendium-Vol. 1-Rome,

1926.

4. Especially useful to those who require a book in English is: FATHER HUGH POPE, 0.P., S.T.M., D.S.S., The

Catholic Student’s “Aids” to the Bible-Vol. 1, of which a new edition has recently appeared- London, Burns, Oates and Washbourne, 1930.

Rochestown, October 25th, 1930.

Nihil Obstat:

FR. COLMAN, O.M.Cap.

Imprimatur:

F R. K EVI N, O.M. C ap.

Minister Provincial.

Nihil Obstat:

RECCAREDUS FLEMING , Censor Theol. Deput.

Imprimi Potest:

E D U A R D U S , Archiep. Dublinen.; Hibernia Primas.

Dublini, die 5 Dec., anno, 1930.

The Catholic Church

A COLLECTION OF LEAFLETS FROM THE BELLARMINE SOCIETY

INDEX

AUTHORITY

WHY DOES THE CATHOLIC CHURCH CLAIM TO TEACH AND TO COMMAND WITH AUTHORITY?

1. BECAUSE Jesus Christ, her Head and Founder, taught and commanded with authority. “He taught as one having power” (Matt. vii. 29), “You have heard that it was said to them of old . . . But I say to you. . . .” (Matt. v. 21 ff).

He ranks His claims as supreme. “He that loveth father or mother more than Me, is not worthy of Me” (Matt. X. 37).

2. BECAUSE HE INVESTED HIS APOSTLES AND THEIR SUCCESSORS WITH THIS SAME AUTHORITY

“As the Father hath sent Me, I also send you” (John xx. 20. “He that heareth you, heareth Me; and he that despiseth you despiseth Me” (Luke x. 16; cf. Matt. x. 40, Matt . xviii 18).

THIS AUTHORITY WAS TO CONTINUE , AS IT WAS GIVEN WITHOUT RESTRICTION OF TIME, PLACE, OR PEOPLE

“All power is given to Me in heaven and in earth. Going therefore teach ye all nations. . . . teaching them to observe all things whatsoever I have commanded you; and behold I am with you all days, even to the consummation of the world” (Matt. xxviii. 18–20 Mark xvi 15)

The Apostles understood Christ in this sense. Thus the council of Jerusalem settled disputes with divine authority :”It hath seemed good to the Holy Ghost and to us to lay no further burden on you” (Acts xv. 24, 28).

St Paul writes to the Thessalonians : “We also give thanks to God . . . because that when you had received of us the word of the hearing of God, you received it not as the word of men, but (as it is indeed) the word of God” (1 Thess ii. 13).

Again, St Paul tells the Corinthians that he is empowered “to bring into captivity every understanding unto the obedience of Christ” (2 Cor, x. 5).

St John declares: “He that knoweth God, heareth us. He that is not of God, heareth us not “ (1 John iv. 6).

3. BECAUSE a supreme, living authority alone can declare with certainty the revelation brought by Christ. There are two possible alternatives to this authority

A. The Bible. But this itself needs an interpreter. By private interpretation men have derived from it different and even contradictory doctrines.

Further, if the Bible is to be the guarantee of truth, who is to guarantee the Bible ? The Bible is not one book, but a selection made from numerous documents known to the early Church. The collection we receive as the inspired word of God was not definitely fixed before the fourth century A.D., and, when fixed, it was fixed by authority.

B. Personal Infallibility , i.e., the Holy Ghost in every man, guiding him unerringly in his interpretation of the Scriptures. But again the contradictory interpretations made by individuals left to themselves show that God has not in fact chosen this course. Truth is not self-contradictory.

But some may say: “I choose the religion that suits me best.”

To this we reply: “Some things are not matters of personal taste. Different medicines, it is true, cure different diseases, but it is the doctor, and not the patient, who decides which medicine suits best. Christ, the Physician, prescribes for all men religion taught with His authority.”

4. BECAUSE ‘Christianity is meant for all mankind . Do away with a teaching authority, and men are left to their own personal investigations. But how many would be able to find the truth in this way? A very few learned, upright men might arrive at it after years of study, perhaps when life was nearly over. Yet God’s Truth is meant, not for the few, but for the many; not for the learned only, but for the labourer and the hard-working man who has no time for study. Our Lord said: “To the poor the Gospel is preached” (Luke vii. 22).

God’s Truth is not meant as the reward of a life-long search. It is meant to give us clear guidance and strength in all our difficulties at every stage of life.

CONCLUSION

In short, because the Catholic Church is Christ’s supreme representative, because her bishops are the successors of the Apostles, because she is one and the same as the Early Church, because some supreme and unerring authority is needed and she alone can provide this authority, because Christ came to save all, and instituted the Church to carry on His work, therefore the Catholic Church claims to teach and to command with authority.

HOW TO JOIN THE CATHOLIC CHURCH

Can ANYONE join the Catholic Church?

Yes. God’s Church is open to all. God wishes all to he saved (1 Tim. ii. 4). Christ died for all and He wishes all to come to a knowledge of the truth, and so His Church is for all. It is not the Church of any particular nation or class. God welcomes all, rich or poor, learned or ignorant, young or old. God loves all His children and wishes them all to be Catholics. Christ said to His Apostles, the first Catholic Bishops: “Go and teach all nations” (Matt. xxviii. 19).

IS IT HARD TO BECOME A CATHOLIC?

Not if you are humble and ready to learn. “Unless you be converted and become as little children,” says Our Lord, “you shall not enter the Kingdom of Heaven” (Matt. xviii. 3). You must, therefore, pray, i.e., talk to God and ask Him to show you the way into His Church. Make arrangements to have a chat with some Catholic priest or, at least, take the first step by attending some service at a Catholic place of worship. If you have a Catholic friend he will be glad to help you in this matter. In most Catholic churches you can buy cheap books and pamphlets explaining the faith. At any rate do not be afraid of difficulties and obstacles. Perhaps you show great determination when you want to gain happiness in this world: you should be just as determined in your efforts to make sure of your happiness in the next world. If you love God you will never rest till you find Him.

IF YOU GO TO SEE A PRIEST WILL YOU BE FREE TO DO WHAT YOU THINK BEST?

Yes; most certainly. No priest will ever receive a person into the Church unless that person sincerely desires to be a Catholic. You may ask what questions you like about the Catholic Faith and about God and your own soul, and the priest will tell you what you must do to serve God and save your soul. You are acting rightly when you make these enquiries. But he will not take any steps to make you a Catholic unless you ask definitely to be instructed.

HOW CAN ONE BECOME A CATHOLIC?

If you ask to be instructed in the Faith the priest will probably give you a little book of Questions and Answers about the Catholic Religion (the Catechism). He may ask you to read this for yourself and he will arrange a course of simple instructions for you. In some places there are regular courses for converts. In others, there are specially trained “catechists” to relieve the priests, who are often overworked. These instructions may last six months, or even longer, until all necessary points of doctrine have been made clear. If the priest is then satisfied that you accept the Catholic Church as the true and only Church of Christ, that you desire to be a Catholic from the right motives, and that you are ready to fulfil all your duties as a Catholic, he will apply to the Bishop for permission to receive you. Once you become a Catholic, since you have attained the source of truth, no further search is necessary. All you have to do is to hold it and act in accord with it. You must persevere until death; for Our Lord says: “He that perseveres to the end, be shall be saved” (Mark xiii. 13).

Must a man be very learned and saintly in order to become a Catholic?

No; great learning is not required. Even the simplest child, unable to reason out things for itself, can know enough to become a Catholic. Indeed, “Whosoever shall not receive the Kingdom of Heaven as a child (i.e., spiritually docile and submissive to authorized teachers) shall not enter therein” (Mark x. 15). Moreover even the greatest sinners can become Catholics if they are resolved to try to reform their lives and to be sorry for their sins. St Augustine of Hippo was once a great sinner but he became a Catholic and, later on, a great saint. Our Lord says: “I come to call not the just but the sinners to repentance” (Matt. ix. 13). All that is needed, then, is a good will, courage and a humble heart. It is God who gives the grace to believe in His revelation without doubting, which grace is called the gift of Faith; and He will give you all the strength you need to be faithful until death. What others have done, you can do.

Conclusion

There can be only one true Church representing the One God on earth, and that must be the Church founded by Christ, the Son of God. He called Peter the “Rock” and said He would build His Church on that “Rock.” St Peter was the first Pope or Head of the Church, and from that day until now the true Church of Christ always obeys the Pope, and will do so until the end of the world; for he is the Head of the Church. This Church is called the Roman Catholic Church because the Pope is the Bishop of Rome. It is God’s Church and hence cannot teach falsehood. Other religions were made by men, are based on human reason, and so are liable to error.

If you wish to secure your salvation, take refuge in the Church of God, which teaches the true religion, i.e., the true way of serving God. To seek for truth entails trouble and, perhaps, trials of various kinds; but if you do so in order to please God, He will reward you by giving you peace of heart in this life and eternal happiness in the next. If you obey the Catholic Church you are obeying Jesus Christ, who said to His Church: “He that heareth you heareth Me and he that despiseth you despiseth Me” (Luke x. I6).

THE POPE IS INFALLIBLE

WHAT PAPAL INFALLIBILITY IS NOT

PAPAL INFALLIBILITY DOES NOT MEAN

(I) THAT THE POPE CANNOT SIN

(ii) That he knows everything.

(III) THAT HE CAN MAKE A NEW REVELATION;

(IV) THAT HE IS NECESSARILY INSPIRED BY GOD TO SPEAK OR TO WRITE

WHAT PAPAL INFALLIBILITY IS

Papal infallibility simply means that the Pope is prevented by the Holy Ghost, the Spirit of Truth, from falling into error when:

(i) in virtue of his supreme authority as shepherd and teacher of all Christians (i.e., in his public capacity as head of the Church and successor of St. Peter)

(ii) he defines a doctrine of faith or of morals (i.e., declares it to be part of the Christian Revelation)

(iii) And, therefore, to be held explicitly by the whole Church henceforward.

SUCH INFALLIBILITY IS ONLY TO BE EXPECTED

Christ came on earth to preach a true doctrine (John xviii. 37), which should last for all time (Matt. xxviii. 19–20). This doctrine He worked unceasingly to spread, and died to uphold. One would expect that, being all-wise, all-foreseeing, and all-powerful, He would have taken means to prevent those to whom He committed the continuation of His work from ever corrupting His doctrine by falling into error. In view of His plainly expressed purpose one can only suppose that if, He had not established some such means for safeguarding His Truth, He would have been neither all-wise, nor all-foreseeing, nor all-powerful.

I. -INFALLIBILITY CONFERRED ON ST. PETER

N.B.-The following proofs are meant to be viewed as one complete whole, not as so many distinct arguments (i) Luke xxii. 31–32. Infallibility Promised.

The Lord said: Simon, Simon, behold Satan hath desired to have You (i.e., the Apostles) that he may sift You as

WHEAT: BUT I HAVE PRAYED FOR THEE (I.E., SIMON) THAT THY FAITH FAIL NOT: AND THOU, BEING ONCE CONVERTED, CONFIRM THY BRETHREN.”

Peter is here given the task of confirming the faith of his brethren. Moreover, Christ Himself guarantees that Peter as Confirmer of the faith of his brethren, shall not err; for Christ has prayed for that very intention. Though it was Christ “as Man” who prayed, yet as Christ’s Humanity is inseparable from His Divinity, His prayer was the prayer of the Man-God, made in accordance with His knowledge of God’s absolute Will, and on that account effective of its purpose. But if Peter could err in this task he would not confirm the faith of his brethren, but lead them astray. Christ’s prayer would then be made void, which is impossible.

(II) MATT. XVI. 18. INFALLIBILITY PROMISED

“Thou art Peter (Cepha) and upon this rock (Cepha) I will build My Church, and the gates (i.e., the power) of hell shall not prevail against it.”

Christ, then, made St. Peter the rock upon which His Church was to be built, and promised that the gates of hell would not prevail against it. Now the primary purpose of the Church is to propagate the doctrine of Christ. If, then, Peter could teach a doctrine that is not of Christ, the rock would fail in its purpose, the whole edifice would totter and the gates of hell would have prevailed. But this cannot be; therefore, Peter cannot err in his teaching.

(III) JOHN XXI. 15–17. INFALLIBILITY BESTOWED

Here St. Peter is given the commission: “Feed My lambs. Feed My sheep,” and made shepherd of the whole flock of Christ. All commentators agree that the words “Feed my lambs,” etc., mean “Teach the flock.” This duty in the shepherd implies in the flock a corresponding obligation to accept his teaching. Can we suppose that Christ can impose an obligation to accept the teaching of one who is fallible, who can lead it astray with false doctrine?

II. ST. PETER’S INFALLIBILITY HANDED ON TO SUCCESSORS

Christ meant His Church to last for all time (Matt. xxiv. 14.; and xxviii. 19–20). Hell shall not prevail against it; and He promised that the Spirit of Truth would remain with His Church for ever (John xiv. 16–17), yet Christ knew, too, that Peter was soon to die, and that after his death there would be an ever-increasing need for onewho should be the ‘rock,’’ the’ confirmer of the brethren,’ the ‘shepherd of the whole flock’ in the senses explained above. ‘He did not therefore, in making Peter infallible, regard him as a mortal man, soon to die, but as the holder of an office, i.e., one whose privileges were to live on in his successors to the end of time.

III. THESE INFALLIBLE SUCCESSORS ARE THE POPES

Inexhaustible evidence might be adduced in proof of this statement, from the early Christian writers in both East and West, the Decrees of the first General Councils, the claims of the Popes themselves from the very beginning, the belief of all pre-reformation Europe, and even the appeals of early heretics to the Popes’ decisions. We must, however, here content ourselves with a very inadequate selection :—(1) The Popes recognised as the successors of St. Peter.

At the Council of Chalcedon (451 A.D.) the assembled bishops of the whole Christian world declared after reading a letter of Pope Leo: “So do we all believe; Peter has spoken through Leo.”

(2) The Popes recognised as possessing the infallibility conferred on St. Peter.

St. Irenaeus (who through his master, Polycarp, the disciple of St. John, was acquainted with the teaching of the Apostles themselves) says that in order to distinguish truth from falsehood it is sufficient to find out what is held by the Church (i.e., the Bishop) of Rome, since “all other Churches must agree with her because of her greater authority.” (Contra Haereses, iii. c. 3).

The Council of Florence (1438–1445), probably the most representative ever held, and accepted by both East and West, says: “Full power has been given to him (i.e., the Pope) by Our Lord Jesus Christ, through Blessed Peter, of feeding; ruling and governing the whole Church.”

(3) Today the Pope alone claims such infallibility. Therefore unless that claim is justified, the infallibility instituted by Christ has disappeared, and Christ must be said to have failed in His purpose.

CONTINUITY

THE PROBLEM

The claim is frequently made that there is religious continuity between the Anglican Church as by law established and the Church that existed in this country previous to the sixteenth century, i.e., that the two Churches are one and the same institution, that there was no break.

The force and value of this claim will be at once apparent if we state (i) what does not, (ii) what does, constitute “religious continuity.”

I. -WHAT “RELIGIOUS CONTINUITY” IS NOT

As an illustration let us suppose Mr. A. goes to Mr. B’s house, batters Mr. B. on the head, throws him and his family into the street and establishes himself and his friends on Mr. B’s premises. No one would call Mr. A. either the same person as, or a lineal descendant of, Mr. B., merely because he continues to occupy Mr. B’s house, not even if Mr. A. were to go so far as to call himself Mr. B. or Mr. A.-B. and to wear Mr. B’s top hat and watch chain.

In exactly the same way you cannot call the Anglican Church today the same as, or the direct descendant of, the Church in pre-Elizabethan England merely because the Anglican Church occupies the old ecclesiastical buildings, adopts many of the emblems of the Old Church and retains many of its ecclesiastical titles and a semblance at least of its rites.

II.-WHAT CONSTITUTES REAL RELIGIOUS CONTINUITY

The Anglican Church is one and the same as the Church in pre-Elizabethan England only if three essential conditions are fulfilled.

(1). Both Churches Must Have the Same Worship.

The differences between the worship of the pre-reformation Church and that of the Anglican Church are many. To prove that there is no religious continuity on this essential point, it will be sufficient to give one, which forms the Fundamental Difference in worship. Previous to the “reformation” the central point of worship of the Church in England was, as it always has been in the Catholic Church elsewhere, the Sacrifice of the Mass. The “Reformers” declared the Mass to be idolatry, abolished it from their ritual and made the saying or hearing of Mass a capital offence. Ever since Elizabeth’s reign, all Anglican clergymen have solemnly subscribed to an Article which declares “The Sacrifices of Masses” to be “blasphemous fables and dangerous deceits.” The Anglican claim to continuity fails, therefore, in the most essential point of worship.

(2). BOTH CHURCHES MUST PROFESS THE SAME FAITH IN ITS ENTIRETY

In pre-reformation times the Church in England accepted and clearly professed its belief in the principle of external religious authority, in the Real Objective Presence, in the Mass as a Sacrifice, in the doctrine of Transubstantiation, in Purgatory, in Seven Sacraments, in the cultus of Our Lady and the Intercession of Saints-to mention only a few points of doctrine-all of which were and still are accepted by the whole Catholic Church. These doctrines were rejected and are still officially rejected by the Anglican Church. Therefore, in the essential point of Faith, there is no continuity between the two Churches.

(3) BOTH CHURCHES MUST ACKNOWLEDGE AND OBEY THE SAME AUTHORITY

In any organised and disciplined Society, e.g., the State, what is it that makes it one and the same during a given period, say, of 200 years? It is not the population, for this is constantly changing and generation succeeds generation. Not is it the land, the geographical features-since the territory may be added to or diminished while the State remains the same. A State can be said to remain one and the same only as long as the people continue to live under the same lawfully constituted authority. The United States were once part of the British Empire. In 1776 they revolted, repudiated British rule, and set up a new and independent government. No one would contend that the U.S.A. after the revolution was the same State as it was before. A new and quite distinct State had been brought into existence.

Now the Church is an organised and disciplined society. From the first introduction of Christianity into England down to 1534 (when Henry’s Acts, establishing Royal instead of Papal Supremacy, were passed), English Christians acknowledged and obeyed the Pope as Supreme Head of the Church, as Christ’s Vicar on earth, and, through the Pope, were in organic unity with the whole of Catholic Christendom. This is an historical fact, frankly admitted by the greatest non-Catholic writers on the later Middle Ages. Does the Anglican Church now acknowledge and obey this authority ? No. In the sixteenth century a religious revolution-not ‘reformation ‘-took place. The authority of the Pope was rejected. In his place, the reigning sovereign was declared to be Supreme Head or Governor of the Church-and thus a new, independent Church (The Anglican Church) came into existence, differing from the old in essential points of faith, worship, and discipline.

CONSEQUENCES

The Anglican Church is a creation of the sixteenth century and a distinct institution from the pre-Elizabethan Church in England.

The Anglican Church, a new creation, cannot be the Church of Christ -otherwise where was the Church of Christ during the first 16 centuries? Jesus Christ was God. Therefore, what He promised He fulfilled. He promised that His Church would exist, one and free from error, till the end of time: “Behold, I am with you all days” (Matt. xxviii 20) and “the spirit of truth . . . will teach you all truth” (John xvi. 13).

Are the essential conditions of religious continuity fulfilled anywhere in England today? Yes -but only in the various Catholic churches. They alone have exactly the same worship, the same Faith and obey the same Papal authority as in prereformation times.

The Catholic Church is the Church of Christ, and History vindicates her claim.

THE MIRACLE OF THE CATHOLIC CHURCH

During the last two thousand years the civilized world has passed through many phases profoundly disturbing the course of history-Roman Empire, Barbarian Invasions, Feudalism and the Middle Ages, Nationalism, and Imperialism, while the international rivalries of our time show that the greatest nations feel insecure about their very existence. Nations have risen and disappeared, split into smaller ones or merged into greater ones, but not one has come through more than one such phase without being radically changed. One society alone has survived the stress and strain of those two thousand years and emerged a stronger spiritual and civilizing force than ever, in spite of persecution at the hands of powerful States, from the first century of the Roman Empire to modern times. That society is the Catholic Church.

I -A RAPID SURVEY

(I) The Spread of the Church. The Catholic Church was founded by Christ around a nucleus of twelve very ordinary men of the working class. On Pentecost Day, a few weeks after His death, three thousand became Christians after hearing a speech by a fisherman called Peter. In the first three centuries the Church spread rapidly in spite of repeated fanatical and systematic attempts to crush her out of existence. By the year 313 Christianity was officially recognized as the predominant religion of the Roman Empire. Today the Church numbers 331,000, 000 (cf. Whitaker’s Almanac), including over 50,000,000 in English-speaking countries.

(2) The Stability of the Church . This steady growth of the Church throughout the ages would not have been possible but for her extraordinary stability. Her very existence has been imperilled by forces from within as well as from without, but she has always triumphed over them. Persecution, heresy, and schism have at different periods caused a temporary setback in the growth of the Church; she has suffered the loss of whole countries at a time. The Barbarian and Mohammedan invasions of Christendom, the savagery of the tenth century, the divisions of the fourteenth century, and the paganism accompanying the Renaissance, grievously afflicted and even disfigured the Church in many ways, but could not shake her unconquerable stability.

(3) The Church’s World-Wide Unity . One element in the Church’s stability is her vital unity. Never has that unity been more clearly visible throughout the world than it is in the Church as we see her to-day, a vast, supra-national society, comprising men of all nations, races, and languages, of every variety and degree of culture and civilization. The exaggerated nationalism that is rampant in most countries nowadays has not severed the unity of Catholics the world over. They remain united in belief in the doctrine Christ entrusted to His Church, and united in loyalty to the Pope as His representative on earth. This spiritual allegiance in no way conflicts with the loyalty of Catholics to their own country.

II -THE WORK OF THE CHURCH

The work of the Church is to preserve and teach the doctrine of Christ and to help men to carry it out in practice. Countless religious bodies have been formed since the time of Christ, especially since the Reformation. They have claimed that the Church has perverted the teaching of Christ and that they have discovered His real meaning. But sooner or later they have all become conscious of doubts and uncertainties even on fundamental issues, and begun to modify or discard their beliefs. To this day the Catholic Church alone can give the lead that men are looking for, conscious as she is of the authority she has received to safeguard the whole truth of Christian doctrine and morality.

(1) Doctrine . The teaching of the Catholic Church has exerted a powerful attraction on the minds and hearts of men of all nations throughout the ages. The main factor in this attraction is the fullness of her teaching about God and the central place that Christ holds in her belief and worship. Nowhere outside the Church is God so nobly and vividly brought before the minds of men in all His goodness, mercy, and justice, in His wonderful providence and wisdom, and in His almighty power. Moreover, the Church has preserved true knowledge of, and belief in, Christ as God made man for our redemption. Christ is the true life of the Church, He is the centre of all her belief and worship. In the administration of the Sacraments and in the teaching of Christ’s doctrine, the Church is carrying out the wishes of Christ Himself, who left her to take His place on earth and perpetuate His work till the day of judgment.

(2) Morality . Here again the Catholic Church speaks as one having authority. For instance, Christian teaching concerning sex, marriage, divorce, birth-prevention, abortion, and sterilization, is to-day clearly and authoritatively maintained in the Catholic Church and there alone. Similarly the counsels of Christ, especially the voluntary practice of poverty, chastity, and obedience’ (i.e. the renunciation of ownership, of the joys of married life and personal independence, to be more free for closer union with God and more wholehearted service of others), are far more vigorously upheld in the Church than in any other religious body.

(3) Holiness . It is not surprising then that the Church is distinguished by an abundance of genuine holiness of life, shown in self-sacrificing love for God and man. The Church honours thousands of martyrs in every century who have followed their Master’s example to the death rather than renounce their faith. The annals of the Catholic clergy are rich in outstanding examples of holiness and devotion to the flock of Christ. The religious orders are so many immense families of Catholic men and women freely following a life of close fidelity to the counsels of Christ, and contributing generously, by prayer and apostolic work, to the spiritual and bodily well-being of their fellow-men.

(4) Works of Charity . The Catholic Church has always been the home of great Christian works of charity, and in all ages thousands of her members, whether in religious orders or living in the world, have devoted themselves to the service of men for the love of God. The amount of work done by Catholics and Catholic institutions for the poor, the sick, the aged and dying, lepers, deaf and dumb, orphans, mental deficients and the insane, in every country of the world, is incalculable. Education for all classes owed everything to the monastic schools in the “Dark Ages” and in the Middle Ages. In more recent centuries it has been deeply indebted to the great educational orders, such as Jesuits, Christian Brothers, and Salesians, as well as numerous congregations of women whose convents provide a cultured Christian atmosphere for the education of girls.

This leaflet cannot have given a completely adequate account of the miracle of the Catholic Church, but perhaps it will have done something to show that the Church’s extraordinary vitality is a proof of her divine origin and divine protection. Truly it was in no boastful spirit, but with the consciousness of Christ’s promise-”Behold, I am with you all days, even to the consummation of the world “-that the Vatican Council could say:

“The Catholic Church, by reason of her wonderful expansion throughout the world, her standard of holiness and the good of every kind she unfailingly inspires, on account of her world-wide unity and unshakable stability, constitutes in herself a strong and ever-fresh motive for belief in her-a living testimony to her divine mission which cannot be contested.”

The Catholic Church And Reason, Part 1

BY REV. H A. JOHNSTON, S.J

INDEX

INTRODUCTORY

THE object of the Talks during the Catholic Hour* is to make known the Catholic Church and her doctrine. Why should we be so anxious to do this? Is the motive self-advertisement, or self-assertiveness, or the love of religious controversy? No. We want to make the Catholic Church known because we believe that it is a matter of vital importance for all to know what the Catholic Church is and what she teaches. She has, we believe, the solution of life’s problems, both the problems of the individual and the problems of the race as a whole. The Catholic Church offers men the means of living as men ought to live-that is, as rational beings who have been placed in this world by God to serve Him and by so doing to deserve a better and everlasting life with God hereafter. The Catholic Church offers to men not merely human opinions, which they can take or leave as they please, but the truth which God Himself has revealed. It offers them, therefore, authoritative guidance in the conduct of life, and it also puts within their reach special helps which God has provided for their assistance in the difficult task of leading a good life. When we say, therefore. that we want you to know the teaching of the Catholic Church, we really mean that we want you to know the teaching of Jesus Christ, the Saviour of mankind. For we believe-and can give good reason for our belief-that Jesus Christ instituted the Catholic Church for the instruction, guidance, and sanctification of all men.

IGNORANCE AND PREJUDICE

The majority of non-Catholics do not find it so easy to get to know the Catholic Church. They do not come in contact with Catholic priests; and the latter are usually so busy attending to the needs of their own flock that they have little time for seeking the other sheep that are outside the fold. (For a Catholic priest’s work does not consist merely in preaching a sermon or two on Sunday, and then waiting and preparing for the next Sunday). Moreover, the ordinary bookshops give no opportunity of getting to know the really remarkable number of Catholic books of a high order that are now appearing. And Catholic layfolk, through custom, timidity, or indifference, do not do all that they should to share with their non-Catholic friends the treasure which they possess in the Catholic Faith.

But this is not the whole story. Besides ignorance, prejudice and misrepresentation also have to be overcome. There is no other body in the world that has to endure so much in the way of calumny as the Catholic Church. The result is that in many cases we have not simply to supply a picture of the Catholic Church where there was none before, but we have first to erase one that has been drawn by prejudice and falsehood. This is a fact which should make men of good will all the more determined to find out the real truth about the Catholic Church.

THE CONSPIRACY OF SILENCE

More dangerous even than the campaign of slander is the conspiracy of neglect and silence which the Catholic Church has to face. That Church is, of course, the dominating religious influence in the world today. But it is the fashion for many writers on religious topics to ignore the Catholic Church. How often, for instance, do we read the unqualified statement that men nowadays do not go to church, though Catholic churches are filled to overflowing? “The Church is losing her hold on the modern mind,” we are constantly being told, though the Catholic Church-the great Christian Church-never held the allegiance of her children so firmly as today. “No one now believes” in this or that article of Christian faith, we are airily told, as if some 400,000,000 Catholics were non-existent or of no account. Though the British Empire has no official form of religion, we are constantly being given to understand that the Catholic Church is something alien to it and negligible in it, permitted to endure on sufferance. Yet in the combined populations of Australia, New Zealand, Canada, Newfoundland, South Africa and Ireland, Catholics are easily the largest religious body, exceeding, for example, the combined number of Anglicans and Presbyterians. Even if you leave out Ireland, Catholics still remain the largest religious body in the other five Dominions.

There is no publishing house in London which is at present issuing books of such a uniform standard of excellence as a Catholic one, the head and founder of which is an Australian. Will you find its books in the ordinary bookshops of Melbourne? I think not. Is this accidental? Perhaps. There is a well-known English writer named Arnold Lunn. In the course of his life he had written a good deal of vigorous criticism of the Catholic Church. A few years ago he became a Catholic. Studying the Catholic Church in order to attack her, he learned enough about her to become convinced of the truth of her claims. He has written finer books since he became a Catholic than he did before. Will you find these later books in a general bookshop? Again, I think not. Last Christmas I wanted in a hurry a copy of his book entitled “Now 1 See”, which, published at the end of 1933, has already gone through five editions. The Catholic booksellers in Melbourne and in Sydney were sold out, so great was the demand for the book. I tried the general booksellers. They had not got it, and were not interested in it. But I could easily have got, not so long ago, at the same booksellers the same author’s Roman Converts, in which he tried to explain away the conversion to the Catholic Church of G. K. Chesterton, Mgr. Ronald Knox and Cardinals Manning and Newman.

Catholics are not surprised nor unduly troubled by all this. They are accustomed to it. And they remember that Jesus Christ Himself was ignored or actively opposed by the official religious powers of His day. But it is a serious matter for the ordinary man. Everything conspires to make it difficult for him to gain a knowledge of the Catholic

* The Catholic Hour comes from Station 3AW Melbourne. From 9 to 10 p.m. every Sunday.

Church. Yet if it is true that the Catholic Church was established by Christ to guide men to eternal life, there can be nothing more important for a man than to know the Catholic Church thoroughly. This knowledge must be got, not from those who are ignorant or prejudiced or hostile, but from those who are able and willing to tell the truth about the Catholic Church. There you have the reason for this Catholic Hour, of which these talks form part. The particular series of talks which I am now beginning has as its general title, “The Catholic Church and Reason,” and its object is to show the close accord which there is between the Catholic system and reason.

WHAT IS OFFERED

I have chosen this particular topic because one of the commonest misapprehensions about the Catholic Church is that there is some kind of opposition between her system and reason. That idea is without foundation, but it has to be exploded again and again. I have chosen this subject, too, because nowadays people want religion that has a reasoned and logical foundation. It is unfortunately true that a great many people outside the Catholic Church especially men, are taking little interest in and are certainly not practising religion. The main cause of this is that they are not offered any definite, coherent religious teaching based on sound and reasonable principles. We have “stunts” for attracting people to church; we have sentimental appeals or revivalist meetings; we have a fevered search for preachers whose literary and oratorical gifts will draw large congregations, and whose harmless, indeterminate teaching will offend no one. “The hungry sheep look up and are not fed.” We have high-placed ecclesiastics who make a boast of knowing no philosophy or theology; and others who seem to think that their shallow, trivial, and subjective views of great Christian truths are sufficient guidance for a troubled world. There are others who kowtow to science as to a goddess, and are amusingly fearful lest they be thought to differ from this infallible oracle of truth. We find popular religious writers whose style of expression is: “I feel that it is more in accordance with what we may conjecture to have been the original teaching of Christ to suppose . . .” and so on. And they wonder why religion-as expounded by them- does not appeal to the thinking man. When someone who has no training in exact thought, and little intellectual grasp of religion, denies a truth that his grandmother believed, he is hailed by many of these modern religious teachers as “a daring and advanced thinker.” It is so childish, and so pitiful. Vagueness, inconsistency, and scepticism in matters of belief, confusion of mind and inexactitude of expression in teaching, and the ceaseless change of doctrine with the object of propitiating that elusive entity which is labelled “modern thought”-these and similar characteristics of the religious world outside the Catholic Church quite naturally destroy the average man’s belief or interest in religious teaching.

It is the same in the sphere of morals. Men need clear and authoritative teaching. But outside the Catholic Church they do not get it. There is no authority to appeal to. The consequence is wrong or confused or contradictory teaching. Or else the teachers keep silence about matters of deepest import, and wax indignant over matters in which the ordinary conscience can find no wrong. Not long ago the head of a religious denomination in Ireland was reported as having sent a telegram to the English Prime Minister and the Speaker of the House of Commons, protesting against the use of brewers’ horses for the Speakers’s State coach on Jubilee day in London. I do not wish to make unkind comment, but is it arty wonder that the ordinary practical man can find nothing to interest him in religion of this kind?

WHAT THE WORLD WANTS

You can see that it really is of the greatest importance to insist on the clear, logical, and coherent nature of the teaching of the Catholic Church. Could a member of any other religious denomination set down clearly and definitely what his religious beliefs are, and the logical grounds for those beliefs? If he did attempt the task, would he not be contradicted by his neighbour of the same persuasion? The Catholic Church knows exactly what she believes, and can state it in unequivocal terms. Moreover, she has and can give logical reasons for her belief. That is what the ordinary man wants, and that is what the Catholic Church offers.

A RATIONAL RELIGION

Let us assume that I am talking to people who believe in God, and believe that He is the Creator of this world and of all men who regard themselves, consequently, as servants of God, bound to do His will here on earth and thus deserve to enter into the true life which God has planned for us hereafter. Now suppose that you who are listening to me and I who am speaking to you met when this life was over, on the way to judgment. And suppose-just for the sake of argument-that it then became perfectly clear that the Catholic Church had been established by Jesus Christ for the sanctification and salvation of all mankind-that it was, in other words, the one true Church. And suppose, again, that I had had an opportunity of putting the truth before you, but through reserve or indifference or a desire to avoid what might look like proselytising had not done so. Would not those of you who are not Catholics have just reason in that case for reproaching me? You might well say to me: “You knew that there was one true Church, but you kept your knowledge to yourself. You knew that there was one fold in which we might have found security, but you never tried to lead us there. You knew the beauty and holiness as well as the truth of Catholic doctrine, but you had not sufficient interest in us to be anxious to share with us what you enjoyed. You knew how much happier life on earth would have been, and how much more safely we should have passed through the dangers of the world, if we had been members of the Catholic Church, yet you never tried to enlighten us. You knew that Christ established His Church for us as well as for you and others, but you never tried to teach us that. We had only one life to live, and eternity depended on the way we lived it, yet you would not help us to know the truth that would have made such a difference to us. Why had you not a greater love for the truth, and zeal for the honour of God, and interest in our welfare?” And if it were true that I had done nothing, what reply could I make?

THE END IN VIEW

I have said this to explain once more the purpose of these talks which I am giving; because it is important to keep before us that we are not engaged here in mere academic discussion of questions of theoretic interest only. It is a matter of life and death for every man to know God’s will and do it. We Catholics believe-and can give you reasoned proof for our belief-that the Catholic Church was founded by the Son of God precisely in order to teach you truth which God wanted you to know, to guide you with authority-divine authority-through the maze of this world and to give you special supernatural aids which man is so badly in need of in order to lead a good life.

In the introductory talk I pointed out some of the obstacles which prevent the ordinary man from getting a true knowledge of the Catholic Church and her real teaching. Ordinary Catholics are not very communicative; Catholic books are not so easy to get; there is hostility and misrepresentation even in quarters where this would not be expected; worse still, there is a conspiracy of silence about the Catholic Church. It is ignored as of no account, though it is, of course, the greatest religious force in the world. Not being acquainted with the Catholic Church, a great many men know religion only as a vague unsatisfactory thing based on sentiment or emotion, or on the blind acceptance of truths which have no reasoned foundation. They are puzzled by contradictory teaching; they are unsettled by changing opinions; and they find the real needs of the human mind and will unsatisfied. As a result they do not take religion seriously. You can hardly blame them.

On that account I said that I was going to insist on the reasonableness of the Catholic faith. It is logical and coherent; it bases itself on reason and asks to be tested by reason. If that is so, then the Catholic Church merits your most careful study.

THE HUMAN SOUL

The Catholic religion may be called a rational religion in the first place because the Catholic Church believes in the human soul, maintaining uncompromisingly that it is essentially different from matter and is immortal. In that respect man differs altogether from an animal. His soul makes him a rational animal, that is, a thinking, reasoning animal. Outside the Catholic Church there is not such unanimity as you might think on this point, even among those who profess a religious creed, and did time allow, I could give you some striking evidences of that. I may recall that the well-known psychologist, William McDougall, in the preface to his most important work, Body and Mind, writes: “I am aware that to many minds it must appear nothing short of a scandal that anyone occupying a position in an academy of learning, other than a Roman Catholic seminary, should in this twentieth century defend the old-world notion of the soul of man.”

MAN’S INTELLECT

Because she believes in a soul, the Catholic Church believes that men have an intellect, a reasoning faculty, quite different from and far superior to sense faculties. She is the steady defender of the human intellect against all kinds of attacks. It would be amusing, were it not so serious, to read so many books and listen to so many arguments which seek to prove-in a logical manner, observe-that we cannot reason. It is like a man raising his voice in heated argument to prove-that he is dumb!

The Catholic Church teaches authoritatively, against all sceptics and agnostics, that by using our intellect in the right way we can find out truth and reach certitude. The Catholic Church is, therefore, the champion of the rights of the intellect. She has a system of philosophy, special to herself, which is a model of reasonableness and coherence. The late Dr. Inge was certainly not prejudiced in favour of the Catholic Church, and vet he wrote, in God and the Astronomers (p. 13), “I am convinced that the classical tradition of Christian philosophy, which Roman Catholic scholars call the philosophia perennis, the perennial philosophy, is not merely the only possible Christian philosophy, but is the only system which will be found ultimately satisfying.” This philosophy, note is the official philosophy of the Catholic Church.

REASONABLE AND CONSISTENT

Furthermore, the Catholic Church gives you clear, solid reasons for all her claims. Not only is the Catholic position taken as a whole, an eminently reasonable one, but there is not a single article of Catholic doctrine which you are asked to believe without satisfactory reasons being given. No wonder that even enemies are struck by this. C. E. M. Joad, who used to attack Christianity, has written (Is Christianity True? p. 366): “The only branch of christianity which, so far as I can gather, has not declined is Roman Catholicism. Logical, definite, and, above all, dogmatic, it offers a sure foundation to those whose feet are beset by the quicksands of modern doubt.”

Because she is logical, the Catholic Church is also -necessarily-consistent. She does not teach one thing in North Melbourne, and another thing in South Melbourne. In Rome or London or Hong Kong her doctrines are precisely the same. Nor does she say one thing today and another thing tomorrow. She has not one doctrine for this generation and another for the next, because-no matter who denies it-truth is truth forever.

THE SPHERE OF MORALS

The same logical and consistent character appears in her moral teaching. Outside the Catholic Church there is nothing but vagueness and confusion, with the most deplorable results. On the most important moral questions contradictory opinions are advanced, and no opinion is given anything like a logical foundation to rest on. The Convocation of Canterbury recently discussed the majority and minority reports of a committee on the Church and Marriage, and the most amazing divergences of opinion were revealed. Most amazing of all was it to find that some of those who maintained that re-marriage after divorce was wrong were prepared to admit those who had remarried to Holy Communion. Those who have remarried have committed sin, in this view, and are living in sin; but they are to be told in effect: “You can forget all about that and go on as if it didn’t matter.” Can anything be hoped for from minds which will accept such inconsistencies? Other forms of immorality are now openly stated, and with good reason, to have ecclesiastical approbation by those who are anxious to push their wares. But the Catholic Church, in this as in all other essential matters, stands where she always stood. For her, sin never becomes merely “a second-best course,” as it was termed by the Bishop who introduced in Convocation the Reports which I have mentioned. In the very important domain of sex morality the Catholic Church has not merely definite and unchanging teaching, but teaching that is based on reason. And, unless men distinguish themselves from mere animals by making reason and not inclination the basis of their conduct, destruction awaits them.

THE LIMITATIONS OF REASON

Finally, though the Catholic Church takes her stand on reason, she is no blind worshipper of reason. She knows, and insists on, the limitations of the human intellect. The intellect of man is not all-powerful. There are many things which we are incapable of comprehending. But we have a source of truth far more sure and reliable than our own reasoning, the teaching of God; and the Catholic Church never fails to point out that our own speculations must always yield to God’s teaching. If God tells me that something is true, I know it must be true, even if I do not understand it fully. So, while upholding the true dignity of human reason, the Catholic Church at the same time subordinates reason to faith. And in this she proves still further her reasonableness.

If the Catholic Church appealed to sentiment or feeling, or if what she taught was put forward as a matter merely of human opinion, it would be intelligible if you took little interest in her doctrines and paid little attention to her claims. But the Catholic Church maintains that she has authority from God to teach what He wants men to know, and to be the shepherd of men’s souls; and she offers you a reasoned proof that her claim is justified. You cannot afford to be indifferent to this. The Catholic Church puts forward claims that are astonishing, but of vital importance for every man if they are true. Do not make the mistake, therefore, of failing to examine thoroughly her credentials.

IS LOGIC WANTED?

I have been insisting in these talks that the Catholic Church presents religion to men as a reasonable thing, and makes no claim for herself or for her doctrines that cannot stand examination in the light of reason. You may not be able to accept the doctrines of the Catholic Church, or admit her claims, but you need be in no doubt about what are her doctrines and her claims and the arguments for them. She teaches the same doctrine always and in every place; she states her doctrine in carefully chosen terms, which have a clear and definite meaning; and she gives plain and reasoned proof for everything she teaches. In the case of the Catholic religion, therefore, the appeal is to reason. I have already given some proof of all this. But now, before I begin to develop the point further, a troubling question presents itself: will reason be listened to? Is logic wanted? There are reasons for doubting.

OPEN ATTACK

We all know, of course, that there are some who are actuated by a blind hatred of the Catholic Church and make no pretence of appealing to reason. We had a striking and public example of this not long ago, when the names of three distinguished men were put forward together as recipients of the freedom of the city of Edinburgh. One was a Scotsman and a Protestant, one was an Australian and a Catholic, and one was an Indian and a Hindu. Objection was raised by some bigots to one of the three on the score of his religion; and, as you know, that one was not the Hindu. Some Australian papers have spoken of this insult to Australia in the terms which it merited; others did not allow themselves that honour. I do not intend to go over again matter which has already been sufficiently dealt with; but I may draw attention to one point which perhaps has not been mentioned. The type of bigotry which we are considering is fond of parading its loyalty and devotion to King and Empire. In London Mr. Lyons (Prime Minister of Australia, 1932–1939) was entertained by the King; but when he went to Edinburgh, the honoured guest of the King was insulted by those who, in their own estimation, were the King’s dutiful subjects. One who was fit to be entertained and honoured by the head of the Empire was not fit to receive common courtesy from a small section of Edinburgh loyalists.

Other and more outrageous manifestations of the same spirit have been given in the same city of Edinburgh since then, but they have not, as far as I saw, received any notice in our press. The Catholics of Edinburgh held a Eucharistic Congress without public display of any kind. The meetings and religious exercises were held in churches, halls, and other enclosed places. There was nothing that the most critical could call provocative. But these same bigots resolved to interfere with the rights of Catholics to carry out their own business in their own way. With a discretion that may or may not be considered to enhance their valour they let the men’s meeting pass undisturbed, and chose the women’s meeting for the particular object of their attacks. The savagery that was displayed was stated to have been almost unbelievable in a civilized community of today.

Such opposition to the Catholic Church is not, of course, based on reason, nor can it be met by appeal to reason. The examples I have mentioned are extreme, no doubt. But something of the same spirit shows itself often enough where it might not be expected. We have seen ourselves how, when Catholics here in Melbourne resolved to make their contribution to the Centenary celebrations by organizing a great act of worship centring round the Person of Our Lord, there were mutterings and threats and plots and protests. Instead of devoting themselves to the task of filling their own empty churches and settling their disputes about fundamental Christian doctrines, the leaders of the opposition chose instead to attack the one consistent and effective religious force in the world. Is the contrast not striking? Would it be conceivable-would even our enemies say that it was conceivable?-that in any Catholic city in the world a good man would be opposed on the ground of his religion? If any other religious body wished to perform an act of devotion or worship in accordance with its beliefs, Catholics would mind their own business and rejoice that religion was not dead. The Catholic Church appeals to reason; but will it be met on the ground of reason?

FALSEHOOD AND FOLLY

But it is not attacks of the kind I have mentioned which arouse my misgivings and force me to ask, Is logic wanted? It is the wild and foolish statements that are made, and worse-the falsehoods that are fabricated and spread about Catholics and the Catholic religion by those who profess some form or other of religion and pretend to be guided by the spirit of Christ. Were it necessary, I could find examples very near home. I could, for instance, quote for you a foolish and bitter article against the Catholic Church published in a Church newspaper, containing-besides unworthy innuendoes-plain, blunt lies. And remember, this did not happen in Gunn’s Gully, but in Collins Street, Melbourne; and it was not the work of some negligible band of bigots but of a denomination which holds its head high in the community. Why is it that men who would consider it unjustifiable to utter a falsehood about a fellow-man in ordinary matters will yet, apparently, have no scruple about calumniating Catholics and their religion? Is it any wonder that I ask, Is logic wanted?

In the Genealogists’ Magazine (London) for December last it was asserted, on the authority of a correspondent who wrote from Australia (his name is of no importance) that “the Papal Registers of pre-Reformation Births, Marriages, etc., are kept with such secrecy that no British archivist, although accredited by the Government which employed him, would be allowed even to know of their existence, much less to consult them.” Here was a statement, damaging to the credit and honesty of the Catholic Church, purporting to be a statement of fact. The attention of the Director of the Vatican Archives was drawn to the statement, and fortunately the editor of the Genealogists’ Magazine was a gentleman, and gave publicity to the reply. Though the Vatican, like all other Governments, does not make available for students documents dealing with more recent events that have not yet passed into history, “the Registers of Papal Letters from 1198 till 1846 are accessible to every serious student, and would with pleasure be placed at the service of arty member of the honourable British Society of Genealogists.” But not only was the charge false; it was, like so many anti-Catholic utterances, nonsensical. For, as Mgr. Mercati, the Director, pointed out, “there areno “Papal Registers of preReformation Births, Marriages, etc.,” at all. In Italy, as in England, inquirers into such matters must go, not to government archives, but to parish registers.” Is it an accident that so much nonsense and falsehood is written and spoken about the Catholic Church? Once again, is logic wanted?

A PULPIT ORATOR

Misrepresentation is so common that we now almost take it for granted. Only a week ago an orator who evidently let his eloquence go to his head a little, was reported astelling a listening world that “it may be yet that an Abyssinian War will mean the crash of Rome.” So many greater prophets have lost their reputations during the last five hundred years by prophesying the imminent downfall of Rome that I should have thought it would have been a warning to a minor prophet of Collins Street. “What of the ominous silence and inactivity of the Pope?” we are asked.

He is silent on the Abyssinian question. It is really remarkable how people who never in all their lives listened to a word or suggestion uttered by the Holy Father are sometimes suddenly smitten with a desire for his guidance and leadership. They close their ears to his words and then complain that he has not spoken. During the First War the reigning Pope made several attempts to bring about peace; and it would have saved the world from the worst consequences of the War and of the peace that followed if he had been listened to; but he was not. He has often been blamed, however, for not trying to bring about peace. We do not hear from our orators denunciation of the intrigues which were successful in barring the Pope from having any part in the Peace Conference. Shut him out, and then blame him for not coming in. Here is the latest charge, and a definite one: “The Pope has been ominously silent and

. inactive” in this matter of the peace of Europe and the world. It calls for a definite answer. Obviously I cannot, in a short time, go into the whole history of the Pope’s earnest desire and work for peace. I give only one brief extract from an address to the Cardinals at Rome, which attracted worldwide attention a few months ago:

“Since universal rumours of war are spread abroad and cause the greatest fear and agitation everywhere, we consider it opportune, in virtue of the apostolic office entrusted to us, to speak our mind. That peoples should once more take to arms against each other, that brethren should again shed each other’s blood, that from earth, sea, and sky should come ruin and destruction, this is a crime so enormous, a manifestation of such mad folly, that we hold it to be absolutely impossible, according to the judicial saying, “What is against justice is not to be considered a possibility.””

“We cannot be persuaded that those who should have at heart the prosperity and well-being of the peoples are ready for the ruin and extermination not only of their own nation, but of a great part of humanity. But if anyone thinks of committing this infamous crime-may God put far off the realization of such a sorrowful presage, which on our part we believe unthinkable-then we can only again direct to God with anguished soul the prayer, ‘Dissipa gentes quae bella volunt.” ‘Scatter the nations which desire wars.”‘

If this is what is meant by “ominous silence” I should like to hear an example of plain speaking.

A COMMON RESPONSIBILITY

There are many who are opposed to the Catholic Church, and I do not necessarily blame them for that. But I do blame them, and God most certainly will blame them, if they make use of falsehood to attack the Catholic Church, or if they do not take reasonable care to find out the truth about that Church and her doctrines. The Pope has issued encyclical letters on such important matters as Christian marriage, the reunion of Christendom, and the present social and economic situation. Nothing has been written or spoken on these subjects to compare in weight and importance with the utterances of the Holy Father. They should be carefully studied- and they are not hard to get-by everyone who pretends to be interested in the problems which confront the world today. But has one in a thousand outside the Catholic Church even heard of these important pronouncements? I think not. They are not noticed in the daily press, though we could well spare much of the matter which is presented to us. But simply because secular newspapers, especially at this end of the earth, frequently ignore the Pope’s pronouncements, that is hardly reason for denying that he has made them.

The Catholic Church puts forward a case based on reason. The appeal of reason will be futile if met by violence, calumny, ignorance, or neglect. The question is a practical one-Is logic wanted?

THE DANGERS OF PREJUDICE

What is prejudice? Prejudice means, according to the derivation of the word, a judgment already formed, and is used to indicate a judgment which precedes the exercise of reason. Prejudice involves bias, unreasonable dislike of a thing. The prejudiced person does not approach a question with an open mind. Prejudice prevents people giving a fair hearing to a case, blinds them to the real merits of a thing, inclines them to believe the worst of a person or an institution against which they are prejudiced, and makes them reluctant to listen to the truth. If the prejudiced person can see at all he sees with distorted vision.

Prejudice is, therefore, the enemy of truth, and is at the same time most injurious to those who are infected by it. The harm which it does is in proportion to the importance of the truth to which it is opposed. It is particularly harmful when it prevents people from finding out the truth about religion. And strangely enough it is in the religious sphere that prejudice is most common and most strong. That is why I devote this talk to the danger of prejudice. My object is not to protest against manifestations of prejudice, but to set forth the real and serious injury that prejudice inflicts on those who are-so often unknowingly-its victims. It is all the more necessary to insist on this because the prejudiced person does not realize the injury which he is doing to himself. He gets satisfaction out of his prejudice.

“ALL GENERATIONS WILL CALL ME BLESSED”

Let us take example of prejudice and see how it works. Catholics honour the Blessed Virgin Mary, Mother of God, above all other creatures. They do so on account of her incomparable dignity and the virtues with which she was adorned. Was she not addressed by the messenger of God as “dowered with grace” and “blessed among women?” We do not give-it should not be necessary to say so, but there is no harm in repeating it-we do not give to any creature the honour which is due to God. Between the holiest of creatures and God there is an infinite distance, and no Catholic could ever forget it. God is God, the one self-existent Being from whom all other beings derive everything that they have. There cannot be comparison between God and any creature. But Mary has been honoured and enriched by God as no other mere creature has been. The devotion of the Catholic Church is founded on her own prayer of praise and thanksgiving: “My soul proclaims the greatness of the Lord, and my spirit has rejoiced in God, my Saviour. For He has looked with favour upon the lowliness of His handmaid, and from henceforth all generations will call me blessed. He that is mighty has done great things for me, and holy is His name” (St. Luke i., 46). It is the Catholic Church alone that habitually gives the Mother of God the title of “Blessed.” Is it not a strange idea-and it is a common one-that the honour given to the Mother of the Son of God in some way detracts from the honour of God? Do we dishonour an artist by admiring and praising his greatest masterpiece? Do we offend a good man by honouring his worthy mother? When the first worshippers of the Redeemer came to pay homage to Him in the manger they found Him “with Mary His Mother.” The Catholic Church has never broken this association. Because we love and honour Jesus Christ, God and Man, so much, we also love and honour her from whom He took His human nature. And it is remarkable that only in the Catholic Church, which gives due honour to the Mother, is the divinity of her Son safe from all attack.

MARY EVER VIRGIN

Now it has been the constant belief of the Catholic Church, based on the teaching of the Gospels, that our Blessed Lady always preserved her virginity. She had, therefore, no children except Jesus Christ, who was, of course, conceived and born miraculously. Outside the Catholic Church a kind of fanatical dislike of the Mother of God has been common; and there is no surer sign of a false religion and separation from God. In particular, efforts have been made to throw doubt on the perpetual virginity of the Blessed Virgin; and here is where the effects of prejudice are apparent. Critics have seized upon the term “first-born,” which is applied to Our Lord in the Gospel of St. Luke, and argued that “first-born” implies other children. Some have gone so far as to say that it proves there were other children Now to the person who considers the matter without any prepossessions, and without a desire to support any particular theory-without prejudice, in other words-it would appear that the term “firstborn” is quite neutral, implying nothing as to subsequent children, when you remember its significance in Jewish law. By the Mosaic law the first-born son had to be offered to God forty days after birth and bought back. Obviously, it would be impossible to know forty days after the first birth if other children were to follow or not. But an only child was “firstborn” for the purposes of the law, just as much as one which was first of a series. All this seems perfectly obvious; yet the greater number of Protestant and rationalist commentators keep repeating in wearisome chorus: “If Jesus was the first-born He was manifestly not the only child of Mary”-a clear example of how people can be swayed by prejudice

NEW EVIDENCE

But there is another chapter in this tale of prejudice. In 1922 there was published a newly-discovered inscription from a tomb in an ancient Jewish cemetery in Egypt. The tomb was that of a young mother, who died in giving birth to her child. The verses-the epitaph is written in elegiac couplets-ask the passer-by to pity Arsinoe for her misfortunes. While still young she had lost her mother, and after marriage she died in giving birth to her “first-born.” The Greek word is “prototokos,” the very word used in the Gospels. And it is interesting to note that this inscription may date from the very year of Our Lord’s birth. Here is our term used where not only were there no other children, but where there was known to be no possibility of other children, because the mother had died. The “first-born” was an only child, and could be nothing else. So the whole supposed case based on this term tumbles to the ground. But the force of prejudice is strong. The inscription to which I have referred was published in 1922 in a Cairo archaeological journal and reprinted next year, without translation or comment, in a German scripture periodical. Have the critics taken any notice of it or made any withdrawal? I open a new volume of the Cambridge New Testament, an edition of the Greek text of St. Luke, edited by H. K. Luce, M.A., published by the Cambridge University Press, and dated 1933, and I read in the notes on the seventh verse of the second chapter: ““Ton prototokon’ [that is the term we have been discussing, [“firstborn’] naturally implies the birth of other, subsequent, children.” Either the editor does not know what any serious Scripture student should know, or else he deliberately conceals an important piece of information and misleads his readers. University degrees are not always proof against this kind of disingenuity, and scholarship has often been used in the service of prejudice.

ARE YOU PREJUDICED?

That is only one among a host of examples which could be brought forward of the warping effect of prejudice on the mind. But I am more concerned now, not with such public and striking manifestations of prejudice, but with the prejudice that blinds and distorts and embitters the minds of ordinary people. I am thinking of those who will believe any evil about Catholics and their doctrines. It is supposed to be a principle of justice (and is often boasted of as a characteristic of British justice in particular) that no man is to be held guilty till his guilt is proved. But I know, in point of fact, that there are many who will believe the most outrageous things about Catholics and the Catholic Church without any proof whatever. There are others who have their minds made up on the subject of the Catholic religion, and they do not intend to listen to reason. They have passed judgment before any evidence has been placed before them. They have inherited prejudice against the Catholic Church, and have had biassed views impressed upon them from youth. Prejudice has become a second nature with them, and they may not even realize that they are prejudiced; nor do they realize the serious harm they are suffering through their prejudice. For remember, the Catholic Church is not the real sufferer; it is those who are infected with prejudice. You do not hurt truth by shutting your eyes to her light; but you condemn yourself to darkness and error.

A SERIOUS MATTER

Prejudice is largely the reason why so few who are otherwise interested in religion will take any trouble to find out the truth about the Catholic Church. The Catholic Church asserts that she has a commission from Jesus Christ to teach the truth which He brought on earth and to exercise authority in His name. Do those who fail to investigate her claims realize that they run the risk of dishonouring and disobeying the Redeemer of the world? I know that there are many well disposed persons listening to me. I should like to impress upon them the great danger of negligence in this matter. We shall all one day have to account to God for the way in which we spent our life on earth and carried out, or failed to carry out, His will. God will not blame those who honestly did their best to find out His will and do it. But we must do our best. Those who are able to say that they never had an opportunity of finding out that Catholic teaching was true will not be blamed for their failure. But suppose that when you stand before God to be judged you will see perfectly clearly then that His plan had been that you should be guided and sanctified by the Catholic Church. And suppose that you are then questioned about your failure to admit the authority of that Church.

You may say: “I did not know. If I had known that the Catholic Church was established by You, and taught with Your authority, of course I would have made any sacrifice to be a faithful member of that Church.” But may not the answer be? “You had sufficient reason to inquire, and you did not. The Catholic Church was the dominant religious force in the world. It was obviously one in doctrine and in discipline, as you would have expected Christ’s Church to be. It was always consistent and unwavering in its teaching, as you would have expected if it had authority from God. You had only to make an effort and you would have found out what fruits it produced in those who whole-heartedly accepted its teaching and authority. Above all, it offered its credentials and appealed to reason in support of them. Surely if you were really in earnest about finding out God’s will you should have made sure to study the claims of the Catholic Church.”

Ministers of religion have a particularly serious responsibility. They are generally in a better position for getting knowledge about religious matters. On their own principle of private judgment they are surely bound to seek, not a superficial knowledge, nor a knowledge drawn from hostile sources, but an exact and careful knowledge of the Catholic Church, and of her doctrines and her claims. They should study the Catholic Church, not with a view to attacking her, but with a sincere desire to learn the truth. Is that how, as a body, they act? It is not for me to judge them. To another both they and I must answer. But I should not like to be in the position of one who, in the presence of God, had to admit that he had been prejudiced against the Catholic Church and had made no effort to overcome that prejudice; that though there was one Church and one only that claimed to speak to him with God’s authority, he had never made an effort to investigate seriously and candidly her claims.

Prejudice is a great danger, and its evil results are widespread. You owe it, not so much to the Catholic Church, as to yourselves and to God, to approach the study of the Catholic Church in a sympathetic and unprejudiced spirit. If she has been founded by the Saviour of mankind you are doing a serious wrong in treating her as a merely human institution. If her doctrines are the doctrines of Jesus Christ, you are insulting Him by regarding them as merely human opinions. If she is the divinely appointed means of salvation for all men, you are endangering your soul’s salvation by allowing prejudice to keep you away from her. If she has a reasonable case to offer, you are guilty of criminal folly by not endeavouring to understand it. What, then, is the case for the Catholic Church? That is what I shall deal with in my next talk.*

******** *The Catholic Church and Reason, Part 2

The Catholic Church And Reason, Part 2

BY REV. H A. JOHNSTON, S.J

INDEX

THE LOGICAL BASIS OF THE CATHOLIC FAITH

The Catholic who was asked about the foundation of his religious beliefs would refer first to the authority of the Church. Then if you asked him why He accepted the authority of the Church, he would tell you that he did so because it taught with authority from God. Asked how he knew that, he would say that the Church was founded by Jesus Christ to teach in His name, and Christ was God. Pressed further to give reasons for this, he would say that we learn from certain trustworthy historical records, which we call Gospels, both that Christ was God and that He established a Church to convey His teaching to the world, that He gave it authority in spiritual matters over all men, and that He promised to preserve it from error.

This is in outline the logical basis of the Catholic religion, which I wish to explain to you a little more fully, taking the steps in their natural order. Catholics give an important place in their scheme to faith; and faith means accepting information on the word of another. The faith of Catholics is divine faith, which means accepting truth on the word of God. This faith, which comes to us through the grace of God, is naturally very precious to us; and it is obviously a perfectly secure basis for religious belief, for whatever God teaches must be true. Our faith, however, is .far from being a blind faith. We do not accept authority until we have proved that the authority is real. We are not like those, for instance, who base their religion on the Bible and the Bible alone, without being able to give any very logical explanation of why they do so. Our faith supposes the exercise of reason going before.

THE EXISTENCE OF GOD

We begin by proving the existence of God by sound and convincing arguments. By the use of our reason we can also find out much about the nature of God. The Catholic Church, which-as I showed in a previous talk-is always the steadfast defender of the rights and powers of the human intellect, maintains firmly that we can prove by reason alone the existence of God, and can, by the use of our reason, learn much about the nature of God. Reason shows us, too, our total dependence, as creatures, on God and our foremost duty in this world to honour, serve, and obey God.

We prove the existence of God and we learn what reason can teach us about the nature of God from the observation and study of ourselves and the world about us. God reveals Himself in the things which He has created. It is to be remembered that the know ledge thus gained is imperfect and incomplete, because creatures cannot give us an adequate knowledge of God, seeing that He is infinitely superior to them and essentially different from them. Even when we shall see God face to face we shall never be able to grasp more than a small portion of what there is to be known of God’s greatness, power, goodness, and beauty, because our minds are finite, or limited, and God is infinite or unlimited. In this life God can, of course, if He wishes, reveal to us more about Himself than our unaided reason could discover; and He can make known more clearly and more fully what are His will and plans in our regard. If He does, we are, needless to say, bound to listen and obey. The only question is: has He done so? The Catholic maintains that He has done so, and that satisfactory evidence of this can be given.

GOD HAS SPOKEN

The evidence that God has spoken to us is contained chiefly in the Gospels, which are four short accounts of the life and teaching of Jesus Christ. Taking these four documents merely as historical records and judging them accordingly, we find that the most critical examination shows that they were really written in the lifetime of the generation which saw the events which they describe. Rationalist critics who wished to assign, and for years did assign later dates to the composition of the Gospels, have been forced systematically to make retreat after retreat from the positions which they took up. “There is abundant proof that the Gospels were known and quoted from the first century on, and it cannot be denied that the Gospels are incomparably better attested than any other ancient historical records.

Having proved that the Gospels are the genuine products of the age to which they refer, we next have to prove that they arc trustworthy. They were written by men who were in a position to know the truth; but did they tell the truth? I can only say here that both the matter contained in the Gospels and the manner of telling and the confirming testimony of external sources of information, and the effect produced on contemporaries who were in a position to test the truth “of the narrative, all combine to give us complete assurance that in the Gospels we have truthful history. I am not now going into the proof of each step of our case; I am only setting forth in outline the logical basis of the Catholic faith, to show that it is logical and reasonable.

Next we have to consider what we can learn from these reliable historical documents which we call the Gospels. It is something very wonderful. We learn of a Man who was born of a virgin mother, and who proclaimed that He came en earth with a message from God to men. More than that, He claimed authority over all men because He was Himself God, one in nature with the Father and the Holy Spirit. And the proof was not merely in the divine character of His teaching, but in His wonderful works and in His resurrection from the dead, and in the marvellous way in which, contrary to all human expectation, the religion which He founded triumphed over the most powerful adversaries. *A series of talks broadcast from 3AW. Melbourne, July-December, 1935.

God the Son became Man in order to redeem mankind, to make satisfaction for sin, and to elevate mankind by bestowing on men a special kinship with God, just as He in His one Person united both divine and human natures. His divine plan was to incorporate all men in Himself, thus forming one mysterious body of which He was the Head. He instituted special means of grace in order to help man’s weakness and bring about and strengthen that supernatural union with God which was to be man’s highest dignity. He brought to us, besides, a clearer and better knowledge of God, as well as of God’s will in our regard.

THERE IS ONE TRUE CHURCH

How was the plan of Christ to be made effective for the generations that were to come? This is the important question. Christ Himself did not live long. His public work was limited to a very short period, not much more than two or three years, and was confined to one small country. How were you and I to receive the benefits which Christ brought? Again we turn to the Gospels; and we learn that Jesus Christ established a body which He called His Church, and gave an order to the rulers of His Church to preach the good tidings to every creature and to the ends of the earth; that He gave authority to impose obligations in His name-”to bind and loose,” as the terminology was, and to hold the keys of the Kingdom of Heaven. This Church was to be for all ages; so Christ was careful to build it, as He said Himself, on a rock, so that the gates of hell-or the powers of death and evil-might never prevail against it. He promised, too, that He would be with His Church for all time till the world should come to an end, and that He would send the Spirit of Truth to abide with it for ever. Along with this commission to the rulers of the Church to teach and guide went, naturally, an obligation on all mankind to accept the teaching and obey the authority set up. “He that believes and is baptised will be saved; he that does not believe will be condemned.”

Immediately after the ascension of Christ into heaven and the descent of the Holy Spirit on the Apostles we find the Church in visible being. St. Peter and the other Apostles set about their work of teaching and governing, and their successors continued the work of conveying to the people for whom Christ died the means of sanctification which He ordained, and of giving the teaching and guidance which He had commissioned them to give in His name. Built on a rock, the Church of Christ could never fall, no matter what storms raged around it; and with the ever-abiding presence of the Spirit of Truth it could not err in delivering Christ’s message. And so today the teaching of the Church which Christ established can be listened to with the same confidence as when the Apostles first went forth with their message. Christ is living in His Church, and when we listen to the Church it is to the voice of Christ Himself we are listening. “He that hears you hears Me, and He that despises you despises Me.”

FAITH AND REASON

I think, therefore, you must admit that the basis of the Catholic religion is a logical one. The Catholic Church, and-I may add-Catholic Church alone, preserves a right balance between reason and authority, taking a sane course between unlicensed liberty of opinion, which produces such sad results, and blind adherence to a theory, which cannot withstand serious attack from the forces of unbelief. The Catholic Church wants us to use our reason. There is much we have to prove by reason before we can accept the authority of the Church, and the Church herself encourages us to understand her doctrines and the proofs on which they rest as well as we can. We prove by reason the genuineness of the Gospels and their veracity. From them we prove the divinity of Christ and the purpose for which He came on earth. From them we learn, that He did not leave it to every individual throughout the course of history to interpret for himself the meaning and application of His life and teaching. He took the practical means-the necessary means as would appear-of founding a teaching body to which He gave His own authority, promising it stability and freedom from error when it spoke authoritatively in His name, because on its permanence and truthful teaching would depend the salvation of all future generations. So, once I am sure that the Church teaches authoritatively certain doctrine as of divine origin, I owe the same submission to the authority of the Church as I owe to Christ Himself; and in my submission to her authority I have the assurance that the Church which He founded to guide me can no more lead me astray than could Jesus Christ Himself.

A GREAT GIFT

What a consolation it is to know that the infallible and imperishable Church which Christ established exists today and must exist through all ages, and that through her we are as closely in touch with Him as were those who heard Him speak. From her we receive those supernatural helps which our human weakness so badly needs. By her we are led securely amid the storms which passion raises, amid the darkness with which our human intellects must often be surrounded, through a laud in which we live as exiles, to an eternal home. It is the duty of every man to be a member of Christ’s Church; for us who have received, through no merit of our own, but through the grace of God alone, the gift of the true Faith, it is our most precious privilege.

CATHOLIC DOCTRINES ARE REASONABLE

In my last talk I explained the logical basis of the Catholic religion, and showed that when the Catholic Church teaches any doctrines authoritatively we are acting in a perfectly reasonable manner when we accept that doctrine as true, because Jesus Christ, who was God, established the Church to teach in His name, and guaranteed it against error in doing so. It is not strictly necessary to go any further than that in order to establish the reasonableness of our position. However, it may be well to make clear that though Catholics regard the authority of the Church as the chief and sufficient ground for their faith, they do not by any means exclude other motives and arguments. It is not to be thought that Catholics are expected to shut their eyes and open their mouths and take whatever doctrines are given them. I have already said that the Church is anxious that we should study and understand the doctrines of our religion and the arguments on which they rest. Just as an example, I will take one doctrine, and that not an easy one, and show that in itself it is reasonable, because it is supported by sound and reasonable arguments.

We Catholics believe that at the words of consecration in the Mass, pronounced by a validly ordained priest, that which was bread and wine becomes, through the power of God, the body and blood of Jesus Christ. We believe, consequently, that Jesus Christ is as truly present in the Blessed Eucharist as He is in heaven or as He was when He walked on earth. Why do we believe this?

THE BLESSED EUCHARIST

We have four accounts of the institution of the Blessed Eucharist, three in the Gospels and one in St. Paul, and all are in substantial agreement. We learn that at His Last Supper, one of the most solemn moments of His life, Jesus took bread and wine, blessed them, and gave to His Apostles, with the words: “This is My Body; this is My Blood. Do this in memory of Me.” I know that some have said that Jesus Christ was on this occasion speaking figuratively, and I cannot stop to argue the point, for I am not now primarily proving that our doctrine is certainly true, but that it is a reasonable one, based on arguments that merit serious consideration. When the Son of God said, “This which I am giving you is the flesh which is offered for you and the blood which is poured out for you,” surely it is not unreasonable-to say the least-to take the words in their obvious literal meaning if there is no compelling reason to the contrary. I mention in passing that those who refuse to take them in their literal sense cannot agree in what precise sense to take them.

THE PROMISE

I could, however, understand a person being held back by the thought of the tremendous import of the doctrine. It might seem almost too good to be true. Is there anything elsewhere in the life and teaching of Christ that would prepare us for such an astounding declaration? Just a year before He had been speaking in the synagogue of Capharnaum, and had promised a better food than the manna with which the Israelites had been fed in the desert. “The bread that I will give is My flesh,” He said. This extraordinary statement drew forth immediate opposition:

“How can this man give us his flesh to eat?” Did Jesus withdraw or moderate what He had said? No, He repeated it even more plainly and forcibly: “In very truth I say to you, except you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink His blood you will not have life in you.” Many, even of His disciples, we are told, said: “This saying is hard; who can accept it?,” and they went away and left Him, never to return. They understood His words literally, and He did not correct them; He let them go. Just one question-supposing He had wished to teach the doctrine of His real presence in the Blessed Eucharist, could He have done so more clearly and more emphatically? With this scene and these words in our minds are we not better prepared to understand what Christ said a year later at the Last Supper, ““Take and eat of this, for this is my body?”

What Our Lord said at Capharnaum was indeed hard doctrine for those who had never dreamt of such a thing. But we must remember that only the day before they had seen Him feed five thousand men, and women and children in addition, with five loaves and two fishes. After such a manifestation of divine power there was less excuse for those who abandoned Christ because they found His doctrine hard to accept.

TESTIMONY OF THE FIRST CENTURIES

I could still have sympathy with the man who would say: “The words, indeed, in themselves seem clean But, also, it seems too wonderful that under the appearance of bread or wine I am given the body, blood, soul and divinity of the Redeemer of the world. I should not dare to take this meaning out of the words, plain as they appear to be, on my own responsibility. I should like some further support. How, for instance, did the early Church receive and interpret these words?” The question is a reasonable one, and is easily answered.

There is, naturally, not a great deal of Christian literature surviving from the, early days of the Church, but there is enough for our purpose. St. Paul, who belonged to the first generation of Christians, writes: “Whoever eats this bread and drinks this cup unworthily is responsible for the Body and Blood of the Lord,” that is, is guilty of an offence against the Body and Blood of the Lord. (I Cor. xi., 28). St. Ignatius the Martyr, who died less than a century after Our Lord, wrote concerning a sect called the Docetae, who denied the reality of Our Lord’s human body: “They abstain from the Eucharist because they do not confess that the Eucharist is the flesh of our Saviour, Jesus Christ, that suffered for us.” (Ep. ad Smyrn, 8). St. Justin Martyr, who died about fifty years later (in, 167), is equally explicit: “We have been taught that the food consecrated by the word of prayer coming from Jesus Christ . . . is the Flesh and Blood of that Jesus Christ who was made Flesh.” (Apol. I., 66). Go on some twenty years further to the great Irenaeus, who was the disciple of those who had known the Apostles. He writes:

“Wine and bread are, by the word of God, changed into the Eucharist which is the Body and Blood of Christ.” (Adv. Haer. V. 2. 2)-. I could go on and give even more striking quotations from St. Hippolytus, in the early part of the third century, from. St. Gregory of Nyssa and St. Cyril of Jerusalem in the fourth century. And the same doctrine is proclaimed with equal clearness and emphasis by St. John Chrysostom, St. Cyril of Alexandria, St. Hilary, St. Ambrose, St. Augustine, and all the great Fathers of the Church. Therefore, in taking the words of Scripture according to their plain meaning, I am in good company.

LATER HISTORY

For century after century the doctrine of the Real Presence remained-beyond all dispute-the centre of the faith and worship of the Church. Even the Nestorians and Monophysites, heretics who broke away from Rome in the fifth century, and the Greeks, whose schism began in the ninth century, receiving no influence from Rome afterwards, retained and still retain their belief in the Real Presence. The first falling away of any consequence came in the sixteenth century with the Lutherans, Calvinists, and Zwinglians. Luther could not at first bring himself to deny the doctrine, though he would have liked to do so, because, as he said, “I saw that in that way I should have been able to give Popery the greatest slap in the face.” “I cannot get over it,” he said, “the text is too powerful; no words can change its meaning.” And he poured ridicule on the views of Calvin, Zwingli, and others. He himself, however, soon fell into error on this point as on so many others, and his views became confused and contradictory.

But while the rejection of authority and the principle of private judgment opened the way to every variety and confusion of opinion, the unchanging Church which Christ established never wavered in maintaining the doctrine of the Real Presence which it had held from the beginning.

As I have already said, I am not now engaged expressly in proving the truth of this doctrine. I am showing only that the doctrine is a reasonable one, because based on arguments which would command the respect of any reasonable man. Of course, if you insist on taking the words of Holy Scripture in a sense other than their natural one; if you can disregard the belief of the early Church; if you decide to attribute no weight to the teaching of the Fathers; if you make up your mind to go counter to the unbroken tradition of centuries; if you are able to suppose that the Church which Christ promised would have the guidance of the Spirit of Truth; erred about a doctrine of primary importance throughout the whole of her history-if you can do all this, I admit, then, that you can deny the doctrine of the Real Presence of Jesus Christ in the Blessed Eucharist. But would you say that such a position was reasonable? Bold, startling, revolutionary, if you like. But reasonable? On the other hand, I think I am not extravagant in claiming, as a result of the arguments which I have put before you, that the belief of Catholics is a reasonable one. And that, I may remind you, is what I set out to show in this series of talks-that the Catholic religion is base a on reason.

DIFFICULTIES

But are there not great difficulties concerning this doctrine which we are discussing? Oh, certainly; because God can do many things that I cannot understand. I do not however, refuse to believe on that account. Do I understand the mystery of the Incarnation itself, of which The Blessed Eucharist is a development? Can I understand the miracle of the feeding of the five thousand? Even in the natural order, can I understand why a planet hundreds of millions of miles away from the sun is kept on its course round the sun? I can utter the word gravitation; but can I give any real explanation? Analyse common salt, and you will find nothing at all in it except sodium and chlorine. Sodium is a metal which ignites when thrown in water; and chlorine is a poisonous gas. Can I understand how, when these substances are chemically combined, they form a palatable and useful addition to our food? I am not surprised if there are difficulties for my human intellect in any of God’s works. It requires a good deal of knowledge and study to understand even and formulate the difficulties which are to be found in the doctrine of the Real Presence, and I think we have a right to demand that those who raise objections should know what they are talking about. A certain dignitary said in the course of controversy last year concerning the Eucharistic Congress that it was absurd to suppose that God could be confined within the limits of a host. He believes that Christ is God. Does he suppose that the Godhead is “confined” within the human nature of Christ? The plea of knowing no philosophy or theology is no excuse for talking sheer nonsense about Catholic doctrines.

COMMON SENSE AND GOOD WILL

I have often thought it strange, though significant, that the Catholic doctrine of the Blessed Eucharist can excite such bitter opposition. The fact that we can sincerely, devoutly, and-as I have shown-not unreasonably, believe that in the Blessed Eucharist Jesus Christ is as truly present with us as when He lay in the manger at Bethlehem or taught at Capharnaum, or hung on the Cross; and that we receive Him really, under the appearance of bread, as the food of our souls, should, it appears to me, excite envy rather than attack. Would you not wish to be able to believe a doctrine which can bring so much consolation and spiritual strength? “By the fruits the tree is known.” If I could let those of you who are not Catholics see, not merely external results like our thronged churches, but the heartfelt devotion to Jesus Christ that springs from, our doctrine of the Blessed Eucharist, I think that you could not fail to have more sympathy with the doctrine. If I could make manifest to you the purity and holiness of life that are fostered among the young people in our boarding schools by the practice of daily Communion and by the intimacy with our Lord which results from frequent visits to the Blessed Sacrament, and leave you to compare this with what is likely to happen- and so commonly happens-when such helps are absent. I do not think that any good man or woman would ever say a word against our doctrine, even though he or she personally was not able to believe it.

I have taken this doctrine, as I have said, only as an example. What I want to make clear is that the Catholic Faith is reasonable, not only because the Catholic position as a whole is a logical one, having as its main foundation the divine authority given to the Catholic Church by its Founder, but also because every, single individual Catholic doctrine has a reasonable explanation and defence.

LOOK ON THIS PICTURE AND ON THAT

If a religion is to claim, the serious attention of men it must have a reasonable foundation. It is because the Catholic religion is based on reason and appeals to reason that you are asked to take an interest in it. In my last two talks I was engaged in showing that the Catholic religion, both as a system and in its several parts, really is based on reason. I wish now to strengthen the claim of the Catholic Church in this respect by showing that not only does she possess this characteristic, but that she possesses it exclusively. No other form of religious belief has a logical foundation.

I will try, in what I have to say, to avoid all matter of dispute and refer only to acknowledged facts. The facts will, I think, make clear that whatever may be said in favour of other forms of religion-and I have not the slightest desire to attack them-they cannot appeal to logic for their support. And I give a plain reason for what I say. A logical system must be consistent; it cannot contain contradictions. A logical system must recognise a difference between “Yes” and “No,” and must not answer “Yes” and “No” to the same question. A logical system must move to definite conclusions by an intelligible process of reasoning. Restricting myself to this one point, without going into troublesome questions of history and problems of origins or taking up any particular doctrines in detail, I will show that non-Catholic religious systems- as opposed to the Catholic religion-are illogical because they are inconsistent; they cannot be based on reason because they are full of contradictions. Seen against this background the logical character of Catholicism will stand out all the more clearly.

HARMONY OR DISCORD

At a Summer School for Anglican clergy in England as late as July last, (1935) one of the speakers, after quoting St. Paul, “If the trumpet give an uncertain sound who shall prepare himself for the battle?” went on to say: “For the last four hundred years there has been a measure of uncertainty as to what tune the Anglican trumpet is going to choose for its clarion call.” The period mentioned, I may interpolate, is the whole lifetime of Anglicanism. “At the moment,” the speaker continued, “the Anglican orchestra is playing four distinct tunes-Catholic, Moderate, Anglican, Modernist, and Evangelical. It is sometimes maintained that the combination results in the achievement of a gorgeous polyphonic melody. . . . . But it is foolish to deceive ourselves into thinking that this is the impression which the general public is receiving. The world today hears not harmony but discord. In its ears the sound of the Anglican trumpet resembles the painstaking efforts of a brigade of Boy Scout buglers. There is much expenditure of breath, and a brave display of individual effort; but there is no agreement among the performers either as to the tune or as to the time, and there is an unfortunate lack of conviction about the high notes.” I have been quoting, let me remind you, an Anglican clergyman* addressing a number of other Anglican clergymen not many months ago. The only comment I make is that four tunes would appear to be an understatement. I should think it a more accurate comparison to say that the orchestra was playing the works of four different composers- suppose Bach, Beethoven, Mendelssohn, and Stravinsky- and every player was choosing the work of these composers which he liked best.

Is this an exaggeration? I open an Anglican Church paper and look at the advertisements offering positions to clergymen. Here are some of the types sought for:”Catholic,” ““Anglo-Catholic,” ““sound Catholic,”“ “fully Catholic,” ““simple Catholic,” ““thorough Catholic,” ““sensible Prayer Book Catholic,” “sane Catholic,” “Evangelical Catholic,” “liberal Catholic,” “Catholic-minded,” ““Catholic without being extreme,” “the whole faith,” “no extremes,” “moderate views,” “not moderate,” “Evangelical,” “liberal Evangelical.” “definite Churchman,” “sound Churchman,” “Moderate Churchman,” “very moderate Churchman,” “central Churchman,” “broad Churchman,” “Churchman, but with flexibility,” “open-minded.” And remember these are all taken from one particular paper, the organ of one particular party, where you would expect some kind of uniformity. What would the result be if I quoted from a variety of papers?

THE POINTS OF DIFFERENCE

But it might he thought that the diversities and inconsistencies are concerned with matters of slight importance. On the contrary, all the main doctrines of Christianity are in question. The divinity of Christ is the central point of Christianity, and there is not agreement even about that. The birth of Jesus Christ of a virgin mother and His resurrection from the dead are accepted by some Anglicans as plain facts; for others they are fables. To some the Scriptures are the word of God, and therefore free from error; to others they are human documents of varying value. Some recite the Athanasian Creed and believe it; others recite it and do not believe it; others refuse to recite it. One small section will grant a primacy ““by right divine” to the Pope; the most fervent prayer of others is one which it might be unbecoming to quote here. Some hold the Catholic doctrine of sacraments and sacramental grace; to others *Rev. Humphry Beevor in The Church Times, August 2nd, 1936. this is “magic.” Some urge the practice of sacramental confession; to others this is a symbol of all that is wicked. The doctrine of eternal punishment is certainly true for some, certainly false for others. In some Anglican churches we have socalled “Mass”; those who stick to the Thirty-nine Articles regard Masses as “blasphemous fables and dangerous deceits.” Some Anglicans believe in the real presence of Christ in the Eucharist, and believe He is to be adored there; others regard this as idolatry. Some offer prayers for the dead; others look on this as superstition. Some regard the doctrines of the Established Church of England as no matter for parliamentary decision; the late Archbishop Davidson of Canterbury, said, “I dissent altogether from that view and dissociate myself from those statements.” Some regard the Reformation as the greatest blessing England ever received; others cannot find words strong enough to express their detestation of it. Many allow remarriage after divorce; others hold this to be sinful. Many side with Catholics to uphold the purity of married life, a majority of more than three to one of Anglican bishops gave approval to what we hold to be, and hold can be proved to be, unnatural vice. What one bishop teaches another denies. I once took up an Anglican Church paper to find a letter from the retired predecessor of a diocesan bishop in which I read: “I must be forgiven if I definitely state that I do not believe the Church of England authorizes the Church teaching put forward by my successor.”

THE FACT ADMITTED

Did time allow I could give chapter and verse to illuminate all these views and many shades of opinion in between. I could, for example, instance a recent edition of the Gospel of St. Luke, brought out by an Anglican clergyman under the general editorship of an Emeritus Professor of Divinity at the University of Cambridge, which openly scoffs at the miraculous and the supernatural in the Gospel, quotes a non-Christian as its most approved authority, denies the truth of large portions of the narrative, and apologises for using capital letters in pronouns referring to Jesus Christ. And the instructions of the general editor to the particular editor of this text were:

“My idea of your book is that you could write as though you had your boys before you and were actually teaching.” The seriousness of the situation is recognised by the Anglicans themselves. The quotation which I gave early in this talk is not unique. As long ago as 1913 Bishop Gore wrote to The Times (London): “I do seriously think that, unless the great body of the Anglican Church can again speedily arrive at some statement of principle such as will avail to pull it together again in a unity comprehensive but intelligible . . . it will go the way to certain disruption.” And the position has by no means improved since then. “For the moment,” wrote the Church Times a few years ago, “we must accept the fact of the comprehensiveness of the Church of England, even though we may believe that Catholicism and Protestantism are mutually contradictory and mutually destructive.” Bishop Knox, an uncompromisingProtestant, wrote “in 1928: “For nearly half a century there have been within the Church of England teachers and followers of what are fundamentally two distinct religions. This situation has been recognised as scandalous by all who believe that a Churchought to teach consistent truth in all matters essential to salvation.”

AUTHORITY LACKING

It is much the same in other denominations. I had occasion once before to quote the reply of the Methodist Times (London) to the charges that Methodism was abandoning the old, sound Christian beliefs that had been its strength. They were proud of it, because “a living Church must change.” Within the last few months a distinguished young Methodist minister in England, Mr. T. S. Gregory, entered the Catholic Church. In the course of a letter to the Methodist Times (which, by the way, is edited by his cousin), he writes: “I heard responsible members of the Church openly doubt the deity of Christ, the resurrection of the dead, and the life of the world to come; and when I asked what authority decided how much of the Christian faith a Methodist must believe, I was told by a distinguished and saintly leader of Methodist thought that Methodism had no dogmatic authority.” We have heard ourselves an Australian Presbyterian, in a position of authority as a teacher, deny the divinity of Christ, and practically every important distinctively Christian doctrine; and there was no agreement among his fellow Presbyterians whether he was right or wrong, whether he was to be tolerated or not.

THE ABANDONMENT OF REASON

Many nowadays give up the struggle and abandon all definite doctrine, making of religion a kind of jelly-ash. How often do we hear from writers who have more fluency of pen than power of logical thought, that Christianity is not a system of dogma, but a way of life.” But this is only going still further along the road of absurdity. Of what use is sentiment if there is no fact behind it? Why be loyal to Jesus Christ if we do not know who He was or what was His authority? “Christ did not teach any doctrines,” we are told. What nonsense! Christ taught and proved that He was God. He taught the mystery of the Blessed Trinity. He taught that He came down from heaven to give Himself for the remission of sin. He taught the necessity of baptism. He taught the doctrine of eternal punishment. He taught the indissolubility of marriage. He said that the bread which He would give was His flesh. He taught the doctrine of eternal life with God. He taught the obligation of listening tothe Church which He founded. The dogma of “no dogma at all” is a counsel of despair and the surrender of all pretence of reason.

I know there are many good and earnest people outside the Catholic Church who love Jesus Christ and hate what is evil. But they are in an illogical position. Christ gave to His Church authority to teach; it is illogical for a follower of Christ to be where there is obviously no teaching authority. Christ told the rulers of His Church to teach men to observe all that He had commanded; it is illogical to suppose that this commission is being carried out where men can believe just what they fancy. Christ said that the Spirit of Truth would be with His Church for ever; it is illogical, and worse, to suppose that the Spirit of Truth isdwelling where contradictions are taught and believed. “ Look on this picture and on that.” On the one hand you have the Catholic Church, with a clear and logical position, possessing authority and exercising it, teaching the same doctrine consistently in all places and at all times. On the other hand you have inconsistency, contradiction, and absence of authority. On which side does reason lie! I can safely leave you to give the answer for yourselves.

A PRACTICAL TEST

I have been speaking on the subject of the Catholic Church and reason because we are, on the whole, reasonable beings; and, especially in an important matter like religion, “men want sound thinking. It is true that our lives are not ruled altogether by reason. Early associations and training, habits of thought acquired in a haphazard way, family and personal influences, and-unfortunately-prejudice and self-interest, prevent reason from being the sole determining factor in our lives. But still, reason plays an important part. Hence, if we could put a reasonable case before people who were sufficiently interested and sufficiently unbiased, we should expect that it would win the acceptance of a considerable number.

Now if what I have been saying about the Catholic Church is true; if in reality the Catholic Church has a reasonable ease to present, I should expect this to have manifest results. In spite of the obvious difficulties that there are in putting the Catholic ease before those who are outside the Catholic Church (difficulties with which I dealt early in this series of talks), I should expect to find a steady influence exerted by the Catholic Faith, drawing men to accept it. Does this happen? I answer that it has happened, and that it continues to happen. Every year not only men and women of no religious affiliation at all, but members of every denomination, in considerable numbers enter the Catholic Church. Statistics for Australia on this point are not recorded. But in England about 12,900 persons are received into the Catholic Church each year, and in the United States the number is over 40,000. This is a fact the significance of which is very commonly overlooked. I venture to think that most non-Catholics who are listening to me have never considered the importance of this fact, even if they have been aware of it.

THE SIGNIFICANCE OF THE FACT

Let us look squarely at it. Every year thousands of men and women of every class of society and of every variety of religious belief conscientiously think it their duty, after very complete investigation, to become members of the Catholic Church while there is no such corresponding movement from the Catholic Church to other bodies. Here is a fact, and-like every fact-it must have a rational explanation.

Before looking for explanations, let us examine the fact a little more closely. It is true that Catholics, for various reasons, at times give up the practice of their religion. The Catholic Church is not a mere Friendly or Benefit Society. She imposes strict obligations on her members, and fidelity to her teaching demands a large measure of self-sacrifice, and often real heroism. Catholics, because human, can grow careless and negligent and fall away. We often are concerned with the problem of this leakage. But you do not find respected and conscientious Catholics becoming good Anglicans or Presbyterians or Methodists or Baptists, whereas you do find conscientious and respected members of every denomination coming into the Catholic Church. Anyone can think immediately of a list of names like those of Father Martindale, Monsignor Ronald Knox, Dr. Orchard, G. K. Chesterton, Arnold Lunn, and a dozen others. No one could think of a single name, equally respected, of one who for conscientious reasons left the Catholic Church to find a spiritual home elsewhere. It is not a remark I would make myself, but perhaps I may quote the saying of Lord John Russell, when someone offered him as consolation the fact that people passed from Rome to the Church of England as well as theother way: “That is all very well; but while the Church of England loses some of its fairest flowers to Rome, we get in return only the weeds that the Pope throws over his garden wall.” We now take this state of affairs for granted; but there must be some reason for it. The fact which I am discussing becomes more striking when we consider the great variety of classes represented among those who make their submission to Rome. There are among them, of course, a great number of humble folk, who are very dear to God, but will never make a name for themselves in this world. On the other hand, lists could be given of hundreds of people of high rank and title in England who have entered the Catholic Church. There is a constant stream of clergymen coming over; and they should be in a position to know what they are doing. Monsignor Robert Hugh Benson was a son of an Archbishop of Canterbury, for example; and Monsignor Ronald Knox is the son of an Anglican Bishop of the extreme Protestant school. This reminds me of a passage in the memoirs of another English Protestant Bishop (Forty Years On, by Bishop Welldon). He is very critical of bishops” wives, and sets out the advantages of celibacy for the clergy, ending with the argument that “unmarried clergy do not beget sons “who go over to the Church of Rome.” Among those who became Catholics are university professors, men of science, and distinguished writers-men who are not likely to act rashly, or without having made a close study of the step they are taking. There are members of every profession and walk of life. This year I can recall off-hand, among other cases, a vice-admiral of the Mediterranean fleet and a Dutch Cabinet Minister. Some are quite young, at school or university; others are men of mature years and experience. When the distinguished judge, Lord Brampton (better known as Sir Henry Hawkins) became a Catholic in his old age, lie said, “At least it cannot be put down to the impetuosity of youth.”

THE QUESTION OF MOTIVE

An important point to remember is that every single one of the thousands who enter the Catholic Church every year must first receive a complete course of instruction in Catholic doctrine, and must understand clearly the basis of the claims of the Catholic Church. Further, they cannot be received into the Catholic Church simply because they are willing to be Catholics or consider the Catholic religion to be as good as any other, or even better than others. They must be convinced in their hearts that Jesus Christ founded one Church, and that Church the Catholic Church, and that it is strictly obligatory on everyone to become a member of it. We want people to become Catholics, but not on any terms. It would be wrong for me or any other Catholic priest to receive anyone into the Catholic Church who was not genuinely and sincerely convinced that the Catholic Church had authority from God and was the only true Church. That it is which gives its force to this argument drawn from all these converts. Every one of them must have real conviction.

It is true that non-Catholics are sometimes led to inquire into the claims of the Catholic Church through human motives. But they cannot enter the Catholic Church for any merely human motive. I had the experience once of a young fellow who came to me for instruction in the Catholic religion chiefly because his intended wife-a staunch Catholic-~insisted. After we had gone a certain distance in our study I said to him one day. “Now, Jack (this not being his name), you understand the Catholic position fairly well. What do you think of it all?” “Well;” said, Jack, “of course I came in the first case because of Mary (this, again, not being her name); but even if we separated now I would have to go on with it.” You may begin to inquire for various reasons-mere curiosity, for instance; but you can become a Catholic only for one motive-because you sincerely believe that the Catholic Church is the one true Church, and that it is your duty to be a member of it.

It is well worth noticing, too, that a large number of those who enter the Catholic Church have to make sacrifices to do so. Natural motives are, more often than not, altogether against the step. It means braving public opinion in many cases and conquering human respect. More: it means sometimes estrangement from friends. Families will-it seems hard to believe-sometimes disown those who follow their conscience and enter the Catholic Church. Even means of livelihood have sometimes to be sacrificed by those whom God calls to the Catholic Church.

And so I repeat, here is a fact of the greatest significance: every year thousands of upright and honourable men and women of every shade of belief, after much study and prayer, make their submission to the authority of the Catholic Church, though the step involves often great sacrifices, and then find in the Catholic Church all that they expected and more. On the other hand you will not find good and earnest Catholics leaving their Mother to seek elsewhere the spiritual nourishment which she has been unable to provide. Not only does this not happen, but it is a thing no one expects to happen.

WHAT IS THE EXPLANATION?

A fact like that needs a rational explanation. What explanation can you give, but the one which I suggested at the outset, that the Catholic Church has reason and truth on her side? If I knew of any other reasonable explanation I would put it forward and discuss it. But I know of no possible explanation, nor, with years of experience as professor of philosophy in putting objections and difficulties to students, can I even imagine any plausible explanation but one. That is why I put forward the fact of this steady stream of earnest converts as a very strong confirmation of what I have been maintaining here for some weeks, that the Catholic Church has a reasonable case, which when examined seriously and without prejudice, must commend itself to the human mind.

I have come to the end. I began this series of talks by analysing the causes of the neglect of religion today outside the Catholic Church, and showing that the Catholic Church alone could offer what men wanted. In a preliminary outline I proved that the Catholic Church was the true defender of reason and took her stand on reason. I then pointed out that she, was not always met by her opponents on the ground of reason, and that logic was not wanted by many of those who were hostile to the Catholic Church. Even in the case of the ordinary man I showed the real danger of being blinded by prejudice and the harm that might result. I put before you the logic of the Catholic position as a whole, and gave, you the example of the reasonableness of individual Catholic doctrines. I drew a picture of the confusion and contradiction that reign outside The Catholic Church. Finally, I have now suggested a test of the reasonableness of the Catholic case, the results of which must impress anyone who gives them consideration.

AND NOW THE PRACTICAL APPLICATION

I have always assumed that, in so far as I was speaking to non-Catholics, I was speaking to people of good-will who were anxious to do what was right. Let us put this good-will to the test. If you were convinced that the Catholic Church was established by Jesus Christ and that it was His will that you should be a member of it, would you become a Catholic? Even if there were difficulties in any way-danger of the alienation of friends, or of loss of position and consequent suffering for wife and children, would you face this if you knew it was God’s will? Further, if it were shown that the Catholic Church had at least a reasonable case, and was in fact the only Church that really appealed to reason and could give a reasoned statement of its position, would you believe it to be your duty to examine that claim seriously? Surely I have proved that much, at least. What are you going to do about it?

I ask Catholics who are listening to me to pray for their non-Catholic brethren. I ask those of you who are nonCatholics to get out of the groove along which you have been going, to lay aside opinions that you have held without examination and without logical basis, and give earnest, unprejudiced consideration to the claims of the Catholic Church. I beg of you even more earnestly to ask God for light and grace. Neither my talking nor your own investigations can give you, by themselves, the true Faith. Intellectual conviction is not enough. Faith is a gift of God.

Remember that it is no party spirit that I make these requests. I am moved only by what I believe to be the will of Jesus Christ, the Redeemer of mankind, and by regard for your own best interests. Through the Catholic Faith you would be able to know more surely God’s will, and would get powerful help in the often difficult task of doing God’s will. You would in the Catholic Church obtain more easily forgiveness of sin; you would have sure guidance in many problems that sorely perplex mankind; you would have a fuller knowledge of God’s revelation to men, and a closer intimacy with Jesus Christ; you would be on a safer path to eternal life. On this account it would be the greatest calamity for any one of you if prejudice, or timidity, or indifference prevented you from making a thorough and, sympathetic investigation of the claims of the Catholic Church.

Nihil Obstat

RECCAREDUS FLEMING

Censor Theol. Deput. Imprimi Potest

@ EDUARDUS, Archiep. Dublinen.,

Hiberniae Primas. Dublini, die 22 Mai, anno. 1936 ********

The Catholic Church And The Modern State

HILAIRE BELLOC

INDEX

The thesis that the Catholic Church is incompatible with the Modern State is in part true. Three fundamental reasons are urged to show this incompatibility. The first-that the Catholic section of a state claims the right to destroy all religious bodies in disagreement with it-is unsound, being based on a misconception which can only arise from an ignorance both of Catholic doctrine and of the history of Catholic peoples.

But the other two reasons given are sound: one is that obedience to an external authority is contrary to that ideal of citizenship, which in the Modern State is based upon two ideas-that each citizen individually forms his decision and that a majority of these decisions binds all; the other is that the claims of the Church tend to conflict with the similar claims of the modern laical, absolute State. Hitherto the truth of these two reasons has been masked by the fact that the bulk of Catholic moral teaching has been retained in non-Catholic states. But this is changing, and conflict will result.

This essay is written in reply to one recently published in the United States of America, which supported the familiar thesis that the Catholic Church is incompatible with the Modern State; that the Modern State holds a doctrine of sovereignty such that the Catholic Church cannot be fully accommodated therewith, and such that a conflict necessarily arises.

The thesis is in part true. I am not concerned here to deny it as a whole, but to examine it; to see in what points the argument advanced shows knowledge of the Church’s claims, in what they are misunderstood.

As I write in reference to an American article and as these lines will be read as much in America as in England, I must make due allowance for the special conditions of the American political system; but for the rest I think the debate applies to any sovereign country of the modern type.

I need hardly add that I attach no moral value to the word “modern.” It only means “contemporary” and is mortal as other forms have been. I deal, then, with the Modern State not as with something having any unquestioned merit, such that anything unsuited to it is thereby condemned, but as only one of many forms of society which probably will not last much longer but which, while it lasts, the Catholic must consider. It may be called the “Electoral State” reposing on what are called liberal theories of government.

Let us first of all define the issue.

It is not a general issue, but one limited to terms of reference as opposed to which I here reply.

I find opposed to me three fundamental objections to any harmonious relation between the Church and the Modern State.

These are:

(1) That the claims of the Catholic Church to a universal right of judgment in faith and morals include both in theory and in practice the claim to destroy, by any means, other conflicting bodies in disagreement with it [pagans, schismatics, heretics]. Therefore the Modern State, meaning thereby a State which is not officially Catholic-that is, not one in which Catholicism and citizenship are equivalent-stands in peril from the presence in its midst of a Catholic body. For that body, though but a part, must, by the nature of its claims and character, arrogate to itself the right of destroying the rest.

(2) That the subjection of the reason made by Catholics to a general authority outside the individual, and in particular to Papal authority, is incompatible with citizenship in the Modern State. For that citizenship is based upon two conceptions: (a) That all questions whatsoever must be decided by each citizen individually in complete freedom from any authority; (b) That such decisions being collected, a majority of them binds the minority to obedience.

(3) That the claims of the Catholic Church being universal, tend to conflict with the claims of the modern laical, absolute State, which are particular. Perhaps my opponents will quarrel with my using the terms “laical” and “absolute.” “Laical” I can defend as meaning the conception that the Modern State is not allowed by its principles to adopt or support anyone defined and named transcendental philosophy or religion. On this point I think all will agree with me.

The Modern Electoral State does indeed always and inevitably support one general religious attitude and oppress its opposite very strongly, but by implication only, and indirectly; it would be shocked if it were accused of doing even that; and a defined and named religion it does not and, consistently, cannot openly adopt.

As for the word “absolute,” I do not use it in the sense of “absolute government,” but in the sense that the Modern Civil State, like the old Pagan Civil State of antiquity [to which it is so rapidly approaching in type], will brook no division of sovereignty. Its citizens are required by it to give allegiance to the State alone, and to no external power whatsoever. I think my opponents will also agree with me in this sense of the word “absolute.” The Modern State differs from the Medieval State in that it claims complete independence from all authority other than its own, whereas the Medieval State regarded itself as only part of Christendom and bound by the general morals and arrangements of Christian men. This absolutism of the Modern State began in the sixteenth century with the affirmation of the Protestant princes that their power was not responsible to Christendom or its officers, but independent of them. It had its immediate fruit in what was called “The Divine Right of Kings,” whereof the claim of a modern government, whether monarchical, republican or whatnot, to undivided allegiance is the heir.

Now, of these three fundamental objections I wholly disagree with the first, and find it based on a misconception. The fear that Catholics will, or should, work otherwise than by persuasion for the destruction of an established non-Catholic society around them can only arise from an ignorance of history and of Catholic doctrine.

With the second I disagree partly, and partly agree. I agree that if there were, or could be, a citizenship based on the supposed independence of the individual from moral law and a State ruled in all things by majorities of citizens, each of whom should vote according to his private decision on any matter, Catholics could not give implicit obedience to so strange a commonwealth. On the other hand, I disagree with this objection if it means that the normal duties of citizens [as we know them to be in practice] cannot be discharged in full by Catholics. The history of Catholics living within a nonCatholic State shows this, and the philosophy held by Catholics upon civic duties will make them, if they are good Catholics, better citizens, saving Catholic morals, than any others. For they alone will be able to give ultimate reasons for obedience to the laws, whether in a State upon the Democratic model [as in Andorra], the Oligarchic [as in England and all Parliamentary countries], or the Monarchic [as in Italy].

As to the third proposition, I find myself wholly in agreement with it. In my judgment a conflict between the State claiming unlimitedpowers and the Catholic Church is inevitable. Whether the State be “Modern” or no, seems to me quite indifferent. Whether it be Democratic-as some small States can be; Oligarchic-as are all States dependent on elected bodies; or Monarchic-governed by one president or king, elected, imposed, or hereditary-the Civil State is always potentially in conflict with the Catholic Church. And when the Civil State claims absolute authority for its laws in all matters, then it will inevitably come sooner or later into active conflict with the Catholic Church.

Now let me deal with the first point-the only one in which I wholly disagree with the thesis: the idea that Catholics as individuals and as a body cannot but attempt to destroy by other means than persuasion whatever is non-Catholic in the State to which they owe allegiance.

I say that, as to this first point, I disagree. The fear that a Catholic body within a non-Catholic society will use all means to destroy the non-Catholic elements in the society around it and to reduce it by force or fraud to the Catholic discipline is baseless. The Catholic body will not so act; and its abstention will not proceed from fear, but from the nature of its own principles. It is true that as these principles by definition assert the truth and goodness of Catholic doctrine they necessarily imply the falsity and evil of anti-Catholic doctrine. It is true that a Catholic regards heretical and Pagan morals as things which do harm and which any society would be well rid of. But it does not follow that the Catholic will therefore act directly for the destruction of the evil by other means than conversion. And the reason should be clear. It is, that in any system no one fundamental principle works alone, but all have to work in accordance with others. In this case the Principle that the Church is possessed of Truth and that dissent from Truth produces evil which should be eliminated, has to work in accordance with another Principle, that of Justice.

A Catholic society is amply justified by all Catholic Principles in fighting the beginnings of disruption within its own body; it is amply justified in making Catholic ideas and education, manners and all the rest of it the rule within a Catholic State. It is amply justified in struggling long and hard-as Catholic Christendom did for more than a century after 1521- to prevent the break-up of a founded Catholic society such as Europe had been for many hundred years, and to save the unity of its civilization. But it is not justified by its own principles in so attacking a non-Catholic society already long established and traditional, because that society possesses rights-for instance, the right of the family to train the child- aggression against which would offend justice.

A Pagan society where the Church is a newcomer, a Protestant society where the Church forms but one particular body, alien in spirit to the rest, a Modern society becoming Pagan [as ours now is], in the midst of which the Church so finds herself, is certainly to be affected by Catholic efforts at conversion. Catholics always have and always will attempt to transform the society around them by that process, wherein they may succeed, as in the case of the Roman Empire, or fail as [hitherto] in the case of the Japanese; but this effort at converting a society traditionally anti-Catholic bears no relation to the forcible action justly and rightly exercised within a Catholic society in its own defense. A Catholic nation, a Catholic civilization, has a good right to check by force what proposes to destroy it: just as the State based on ownership has a right to check by force communism or theft. But a Catholic body in an anti-Catholic society has no right to attack that society. The two cases are not only not parallel, they are contradictory. For instance, if I can by force or fraud prevent a Mormon child today from joining his family and so being brought up Mormon, and if I exercise that force or fraud I am doing wrong. But if, in a monogamous State, I attempt by arms to prevent Mormonism, at its inception, from introducing Polygamy into a Monogamous society, I am doing right.

The distinction is simple and should be clear, but I see that an argument is found to the contrary in the recent Concordat between the Church and the Italian State.

This Concordat excludes from certain civil functions [notably teaching in State schools] unfrocked priests. It recognizes the Catholic Church as the State religion of Italy, giving no other ecclesiastical corporation or body of opinion that same position. It gives the Catholic Church entry into, and its doctrines a permanent position in, public education. This, it is said, shows what Catholic intention is in changing the constitutional law of the State. The contention is that the Catholic Church claims and would exercise tyrannical powers over large and established non-Catholic bodies within the State where it had power. Whether it be the action of a majority or no is indifferent. The point is that it is tyrannical.

Now, it is remarked by our opponents that the claims of the Catholic Church extend “over the whole world.” It is further remarked that, according to those claims, there is “no parity between Catholic and other religions”; that, “moral and educational authority” [as exercised by the Church] “are identified with the authority of God Himself,” whence it is concluded that all dissidence therefrom, on whatever scale and from whatever source, would be treated by Catholics as an enemy is treated, actively, and its suppression attempted by force. In the same way there is quoted the definition on heresy, the punishment and the extirpation thereof. It is remarked that “disobedience to the Pope is affirmed to be morally wrong”: [the idea that such dissidence necessarily involves damnation shows ignorance of the Catholic doctrine on the nature of salvation and its attainment]. The conclusion is drawn in a sentence which seems to me to sum up the position. It is this, that “Catholic claims,” it is said, “submit the sovereignty of the State to the supremacy of the Catholic Church.” If for “submit” we read “except from,” and for “the supremacy” we read “the moral laws and doctrine,” I regard that sentence as accurate.

But these changes in wording are essential, and with regard to the whole of this point the answer is simple enough.

It is indeed inevitable that any corporation claiming to be what the Catholic Church claims to be, to wit, the only Divine authority on earth in matters of faith and morals, shall by theory claim universal jurisdiction in these; but it is not true that this jurisdiction either is in practice or should be in justice, exercised as it is here imagined it would be. Ther e is neither a conspiracy so to exercise it nor a desire so to exercise it; and the very examples given are proofs of this. The essential of action against heresy is that it takes place for the purpose of checking the inception and growth of something foreign to, and destructive of, Catholic society. The laws against heresy in Catholic societies of the past, the struggle against heresy during the great religious wars of from three to four hundred years ago, were both of that nature. As against an established, permanent, large non-Catholic body there is no such attitude.

If you doubt it, look at the attitude of the Church towards the Jews. Here, if anywhere, there should have been, according to this erroneous theory of Catholic action, a policy of extermination. The Jewish community should have been forbidden to exist; its children should have been taken from it and brought up in the Catholic Faith wholesale; its worship should have been forbidden; it should have been the subject of a crusade. History is a flat contradiction of this. Alien and unpopular, the subject of violent mob attacks, treated as foreigners by the civil power, and therefore liable to expulsion, the Jewish body, when the Church was at the height of its power in Europe, was specially protected in its privileges so far as moral theology could protect it. When Jews conspired against the State or were thought to be so conspiring, as in Spain, the State persecuted them. But there never was, and there never will be, an effort made by the Catholic Church as such to absorb or destroy that hostile community by force. The same is true of an established heretical body, or for that matter of an established Pagan body. I mean by “established,” forming a large and well-rooted corporation within the State, composed of myriads who are in good faith, and living a settled traditional life of its own, reposing upon long-secured foundations. It is perfectly true that the civil power will always tend to extrude what it regards as alien and hostile; but Catholic moral theology as such has never countenanced action against those bodies only because their faith and morals were not in full harmony with the Catholic Church.

What does happen, and naturally happen, is that where the whole code of a society is Catholic, laws and institutions will follow that code, and the recent Italian Concordat is a very good example of this. The Catholics in Italy are not a political majority any more than English-speakers in the United States are a political majority. Italy is organically Catholic, not mechanically. She is a Catholic country, not an arrangement of voters drawn up by party machines into Catholic and non-Catholic. She is a Catholic realm, in the same sense in which the Massachusetts of the Colonial period was a Puritan colony, or Japan is a Pagan empire today. It is normal in a country Catholic to the roots that an unfrocked priest should not be allowed to teach [public opinion alone, apart from laws, would see to that!], that education should be upon Catholic lines, and that the Catholic Church should be the established Church of the realm. The arrangements which apply to such conditions have no parallel in a community where those conditions do not exist.

But all this is not connected with mere majorities. In all this misconception, perhaps the gravest and yet the most characteristic is the idea that a “Catholic majority” in the modern political sense of that word would impose Catholicism over the “minority” standing against it. The whole idea is wildly wrong. Such an idea as the Divine right of mechanical majorities has no place in Catholic philosophy. It is one machinery of government. It is being widely questioned in Europe, though still preserving an uncertain life in some States. It may be right or wrong. But, anyhow, a Catholic majority would never, in Catholic eyes-unless it was so large as to be organically identical with the general tone of society [which is a very different thing from a mechanical majority]-give sufficient sanction for action against those who dissented from it.

So much for the first point; the imaginary peril which a Protestant or Pagan society is supposed to run from the force or fraud of Catholicism in its midst. That Catholicism in its midst is an alien thing is perfectly true. That men should dread its moral influence as something which disintegrates that Protestantism or Paganism which is the soul of their society is natural and inevitable. That they should proceed to regard it as a conspiracy against them capable of aggressive action is extravagant and out of touch with reality.

As to the second point, that the Church produces a citizen other than that conceived as the ideal citizen of the Modern Electoral Liberal State, I agree.

According to definition the ideal citizen of this Modern State must be free to act on his individual judgment of morals, must reach conclusions on all matters by that private judgment, but must accept the coercion of any law whatsoever when it has been decided by a majority of such individual citizens so concluding. For instance, of a hundred citizens in such a State, forty-nine, each thinking it out for himself, decide that each may, without moral wrong, eat beef; fifty-one decide that beef is unholy and must not be eaten. The fifty-one may morally coerce the forty-nine and forbid them beef [or beer, or coffee or whatever it may be].

It is pointed out with perfect accuracy that the Catholic does not decide moral questions in this manner. The Catholic belief in the authoritative claims of the Catholic Church to define morals prevents that. It is further pointed out with justice that the individual Catholic accepts as superior to his own judgment the judgment of the Church, and in certain cases the judgment of the Papacy, on the conception that the Pope is the Vicar of Christ on earth. But there is in the general non-Catholic conception of what this attitude means one essential error. The error consists in the idea that the Catholic attitude is irrational or non-rational while the attitude of the non-Catholic is rational. The contrast is not of this sort. [emphasis added]

All men accept authority. The difference between different groups lies in the type of authority which they accept. The Catholic has arrived at the conviction, or, if you will, has been given and has retained the conviction [some come in from outside; some go outside and come back again; most receive the Faith by instruction in youth, but test it in maturity by experience] that there has been a Divine revelation. He discovers or recognizes a special action of God upon this earth over and above that general action which all who are not atheists admit. He discovers or recognizes a certain personality and voice-that of the Catholic Church-which conforms to the necessary marks of holiness and right proportion, and the ramification of doctrine from which is both consistent and wholly good. The incarnation of the Deity in the Man Jesus Christ, the immortality of the human soul, its responsibility to its Creator for good and evil done in this world, its consequent fate after death, the main rite and doctrine of the Eucharist-these and a host of other affirmations are not dissociated, but form a consistent whole, which is not only the sole full guide to right living in this world, but the sole just group of affirmations upon the nature of things.

To take up that position is to be a Catholic. To doubt it or deny it is to oppose Catholicism.

But that position is taken up under the fierce light of reason. It is indeed puerile to imagine that it could be taken up under any other light. A proposition so awful and so singular is not accepted blindfold; it is of its very nature subject to instant inquiry. It is not a thing to be taken for granted, as are ideals which all accept as a matter of course. On the contrary, it is of its very nature exceptional, unlikely, and not only requires examination before it can be accepted, but an act of the will. Nor is it true, as men ignorant of history pretend, that in barbaric and uncritical times [of which they think the Faith a survival] these truths were accepted without inspection, and that the argument from reason is a modern one. Throughout the ages from the first apologetic of the Church in the second century to the present day, without interruption throughout the Dark Ages and later throughout the Middle, and all through the high intellectual life of the sixteenth, seventeenth, and eighteenth centuries, the appeal to reason by Catholics has been universal and continuous. Today, in the twentieth century, Catholics are the only organized body consistently appealing to the reason and to the immutable laws of thought as against the a priori conceptions of physical scientists and the muddled emotionalism of ephemeral philosophic systems.

It is my own experience, and I think that of most Catholics who have mixed much with opponents of their religion, that nowhere outside the household of the Faith is the speculative reason fully active and completely free, save possibly, as a rare exception, in a few of the more intelligent skeptics. The Catholic may perhaps accept such a man as Huxley for an intellectual equal in this appeal to the reason. But he accepts very few non-Catholics as his intellectual equals. He cannot but note that, in the vast majority, non-Catholics accept their authority without inquiry. It is, for the bulk of them, a mixture of what they happen to have read, of common daily experience [which boggles at all mysteries and marvels], and running through it all is a pseudo-scientific attitude not far removed from materialism, which they have none of them analyzed and which only appears by perpetual implication: as when they presume without attempt at proof that what they call “natural law” is unalterable, or when they fall back upon a name or a book or “the latest criticism” in the place of argument.

So much for that. The Catholic acts upon reason when he recognizes goodness, holiness, and the authoritative Divine character in the Church, just as a man acts upon reason when he recognizes an individual voice or face.

Having accepted such authority, reason demands imperatively the subjection of one’s own less perfect experience and less perfect power. I can arrive by my reason and by my experience of the world at a certitude that the Catholic Church is the sole Divine authority upon earth. I cannot arrive by my reason at a certitude that man’s obviously corrupt nature can obtain eternal beatitude. My reason can only accept that at second-hand from authority. I meet a professional politician fresh from his last piece of villainy: blackmail or bribery, or other corruption. Certainly it is not my reason that tells me such a creature is a candidate for eternal bliss. I am constrained to believe it on the Authority of the Faith.

A parallel instance [though an imperfect one] is the map. When we take a government survey and accept its authority there follows as a secondary consequence our acceptation of a particular point upon it, as that this town is north of that river, though we have no personal experience in the matter. I say that the parallel is imperfect, because no one, I hope, would give to a surveyor or any other human instrument the authority attaching to Divine revelation.

But though the Catholic bases his Faith upon Reason, that Faith, once held, certainly prevents him from playing the part assigned to the ideal citizen of the Modern State. Neither will he submit all things to separate and individual private judgment, nor will he necessarily and always obey as a moral duty laws arrived at by the mechanical process of majorities. On a multitude of things-e.g., the nature and obligations of marriage-he will accept established doctrine and prefer it to any possible conclusions of his own limited experience, judgment and powers. Should a majority order him to act against Catholic morals [as, for instance, by a law compelling the limitation of families] he would refuse to obey it. It is equally true that if in some grave point of Faith or Morals not yet defined the Papacy decided Catholic morals to involve resistance to a new law, the Catholic would resist that law. For instance, suppose a majority to order for all young children of the Modern State a certain course of instruction in certain sexual matters. The matter is subjected to individual judgment. Some are for, some against. At last it is solemnly and publicly promulgated from Rome that the proposed instruction violates Catholic morals. Then Catholics would thenceforward resist the decision of the majority and refuse to submit their children to such instruction in the State schools.

Incidentally, I may say that the position of the Papacy is misunderstood when it is regarded as a despotic authority acting capriciously. It is part and parcel of the Catholic Church, defining and guiding-not inventing-doctrine, and identified with the general life of Catholicism. Catholics act as they do, not because one individual has taken into his head to give them orders on a sudden, but because they are in tune with the whole spirit of the Catholic Church, of which the Pope is the central authority.

As an example of the misunderstanding, I may quote the attitude often taken by Non-Catholics towards the advice given by Leo XIII and subsequent Popes in the matter of Scholastic Philosophy. “Pius X,” we are told, “ordained that a philosophy which flourished in the thirteenth century should be the philosophy of the twentieth,” and this attitude is compared to that of an American fundamentalist denying the conclusions of geology. All that is out of focus. No such thing was ever “ordained.” Cardinal Mercier’s great revival of scholasticism at Louvain was approved and commended, and its study warmly supported. But no Catholic is bound to accept that particular system or its terms. I may say in passing that anyone who does adopt it seems to me wise, for it derives from Aristotle, the tutor of the human race, and it represents the highest intellectual effort ever made by man; nor is there conflict between it and evidence, nor any reason to believe that our own particularly muddled time with its disuse of reason is philosophically superior merely because it comes last. But scholasticism is only a human system of thought; it is not of revelation; and the idea that it could be thought equivalent to the Faith or that the Papacy was here imposing it as of Faith could only occur to one wholly unfamiliar with the ancient and abiding Religion of Christendom.

The Papacy directs in a great number of disciplinary matters, as of liturgy, ecclesiastical law, etc., which do not normally touch civil life. On those rare and grave occasions when it acts with plenary and doctrinal authority it says nothing new. It defines and promulgates a truth always possessed.

However, whether from the general authority of the Church, her spirit, traditions, annals or definitions, or from the particular authority of the Pope, it remains true that the Catholic cannot be an ideal citizen of the Modern State as defined above. He cannot pledge himself blindfold to accept any and every decision of a mere majority. He must envisage the possibility of such a decision traversing the Divine Law, and he will not [as does the Ideal Citizen of the Modern State] regard all subjects whatsoever as matters for private judgment changeable and reversible at will; for some subjects are to him of their nature fixed and changeless.

From this it will be seen that on the third point I am wholly in agreement. If there is ground for conflict between Catholicism and the ideal of the citizen in the Modern State, still more is there, and has always been, ground for conflict between the Church and any form of Civil State which regards itself as absolute: and that conflict may appear, in a future perhaps not very remote.

I have already said that a nonCatholic may quarrel with my use of the word “absolute,” and indeed there is a danger of ambiguity in that term. It may be pointed out that the Modern Electoral State is not “absolute” in the sense of “arbitrary.” Its power proceeds in a certain limited fashion according to a certain guiding machinery; but it is absolute in the sense that it admits no other authority than its own, in whatever province it chooses to exercise that authority. And this claim of the Modern State to absolute authority is the more remarkable because the Modern State is but one of many. It is not a universal state; it only exists in a restricted area, has only existed for a short time, may not endure even where it is today most blindly accepted, and yet it acts as though it had complete, unlimited and eternal rights over the soul of man.

The old Pagan Roman Empire in its war with Catholicism did at least claim to be universal, and its original quarrel with the Catholic Church, of which all the first three centuries are full, was due to a conflict between two universal authorities.

Each Modern State is but one among many rivals; yet does it claim greater powers than ever the State claimed before, and with those powers I submit that the Catholic Church must inevitably come into conflict sooner or later; not because the State is modern, but because it claims unquestioned authority in all things.

I notice, for instance, that certain of our critics are particularly shocked by the admirable statement issued on the part of the English Catholic bishops just before the late General Election in Britain, where they say that it is no part of the State’s duty to teach, and add that authority over the child belongs not to the State, but to the parent. Nothing could be more odious in the ears of modern Nationalism-because nothing is more true. In the face of this tremendous claim of the Modern State, a claim which not even the Roman Empire made, the right to teach what it wills to every child in the community, that is, to form the whole mind of the nation on its own despotic fiat-our critics cannot maintain that the Modern State does not pretend to be “absolute.” It is in fact more absolute than any Pagan state of the past ever was. What is more, its absoluteness increases daily; that is why its conflict with Catholicism seems to be inevitable.

The issue is very well stated when abhorrence is expressed [by implication] of a recent authoritative Catholic pronouncement, that “if certain laws are declared invalid by the Catholic Church, they are not binding.” Here, as we have just seen, is the whole point. Where there is a conflict between civil law and the moral law of the Catholic Church, members of the Catholic Church will resist the civil law and obey the law of the Church. And when this happens you get that active dissension between the Church and the State which history records in all the great persecutions. That was the very crux between the Roman Empire and the Catholic Church before Constantine. In the eyes of the civil power the Christians were rebels; in the eyes of the Christians the civil power was commanding practices which no Catholic could adopt. It was demanding duties which no Catholic could admit.

That the quarrel has not yet broken out into open form [save here and there in the shape of a few riots] is due to the fact that hitherto the bulk of Catholic doctrines have been retained in States of non-Catholic culture. But as the moral distance grows greater between the Catholic and the non-Catholic, as the Modern State reverts more and more to that Paganism which is the natural end of those who abandon Catholicism, the direct contrast cannot fail to pass from the realm of theory to that of practice.

It is inevitable there should appear in any Absolute State, not alone in States which still trust to the machinery of voting, but in all States, Monarchic or Democratic, Plutocratic or Communist, laws which no Catholic will obey. One or two tentative efforts have already been made at such laws. When those laws are presented to Catholics there will at once arise the situation which has arisen successively time and again for nearly two thousand years; the refusal on the part of Catholics, which refusal in the eyes of the State is rebellion.

There will follow upon that what the State calls the punishment of disobedience, and what Catholics have always called, and will once again call, persecution. It will be accompanied by considerable apostasy, but also considerable heroism; and in the upshot the Faith’s power to survive will lie in this: that devotion to the Faith is stronger, more rational, better founded, more tenacious, more lasting in substance, than that hatred which the Faith also, and naturally, arouses.

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The Catholic Church In Japan

BY PAUL TAGUCHI, D.D., BISHOP OF OSAKA, JAPAN

INDEX

CHAPTER I

THE CHURCH’S BEGINNING IN JAPAN

Through the mysterious Providence of God, in the very first page of Japanese Christian History, appears the grand and lovable figure of Saint Francis Xavier. This Saint knocked at the door of Southern Japan on the Feast of the Assumption, August 15, 1549, accompanied by two missionaries and a newly converted Japanese, one Yajiro. Endowed with a deep humility, unlimited confidence in God, and an exuberant enthusiasm, the great Apostle of the Orient began to carry out the sublime mission, entrusted to him by Our Lord, amidst prayer and mortification, in the virgin soil of the Empire of the Rising Sun.

When he had seen of what that high-spirited and intellectual race was capable, under the influence of Christianity, he wrote a famous letter, which is a presage of the nobility of the Catholic Japanese: “Oh Japan, if I were to speak to you, I would never finish. . . . You see “I can hardly bring this letter to an end. Indeed, is it not to my Brethren and Fathers that I write? And I write of a subject that is sodear to me, the Japanese Christians, my delight.” (Brou. 2, 144.)

It proved, later on, that St. Francis was not to be disappointed in his high expectations, Elias may now be taken away from the earth; he has left his cloak in the hands of Eliseus. After the departure of St. Francis, the messengers of the Holy Gospel, prompted by the same Spirit of God, were continuously dispatched from Macao and the Island of Luzon, having but to continue the furrow begun by their illustrious pioneer. Among the most famous was St. Peter Baptista, former Provincial Superior of the Franciscan Fathers in the Philippines, later elected Bishop of Neuva Caceres, who was providentially destined to be the principal character in the case of the well-known twenty-six Japanese Martyrs in Nagasaki. According to some of the contemporary historians, the Christians of that time numbered about one million. This included, among others, many feudal lords, who, earned for themselves illustrious names in History.

There are, however, among the thousands of Christian heroes, two leading figures, one a man, the other a woman, both noble by birth and by faith. They are like the shining sun and the beautiful moon, amid the countless stars, scattered in the sky. One of them is Justo Ukon Takayama, feudal lord of Takatsuki, near Osaka; the other, Dona Gracia, wife of Tadaoki Hosokawa, worthy representatives of Christian manhood and womanhood, respectively. Adam was created by God to be the leader and guardian of Eve. Dona Gracia Hosokawa, deeply touched at the beauty of the daily conduct of Justo Takayama, is said to have become a Christian. As a matter of fact, both were well endowed by nature to be the instruments of Divine Grace, for according to Tertullian: “man is naturally Christian.” Our Theology teaches us that “Grace does not destroy nature, but supplements it and elevates it,” just as it shines out over the world and allows the various kinds of living creatures to grow according to their species and characteristics. Dona Gracia was the first Japanese lady in whom east met west, harmoniously hand in hand. She is still looked upon, throughout the country, as a heroine who knew well how to develop the splendid womanhood of Japan by her natural Faith. As to Justo Takayama, his fame as the embodiment of noble Japanese chivalry is world-wide. This spirit, or Bushido, as it is called, is the exalted spirit of self-abnegation, including the three outstanding virtues of wisdom, benevolence and valour, but raised to a far higher level by the supernatural influence of Faith.

Ukon was born in the Province of Settsu, in the year 1550. He was the second son of Dario Takayama and received in Baptism, the name of Justo, when, at the age of eleven, he became a Christian together with his whole family.

Endowed with great natural qualities, he distinguished himself by his military talent, but even more so by his indomitable spirit of bushido. He also attained great experience and skill in the art of Tea Ceremony (i.e., o “cha-noyu”).

Happily, the good seed had fallen on fertile soil, whence sprang tip a magnificent tree, beneath whose branches might shelter a people, anxiously seeking rest and refreshment of mind and soul. Our great Japanese Knight was, above all things, a Christian, strong and fearless in his profession of Faith. This has been universally acknowledged in books on Church History, where he is referred to as: “The pillar of the Japanese Christian Church”; “The great patron of Los Padres”; “a light of brilliant virtues,” and other terms of praise. In his own day, Father Froes wrote of him: “His example and fervour led countless others to the threshold of the Church. Not even the missioners can equal him in the extent of his evangelical work.”

For the sake of the Faith, he, his family and his Christian colleague, Juan Naito, went to the Philippines in December. 1614, in company with other Japanese Christians, including Naito’s sister, Julia, who later on founded, in Manila, a convent. Here, among the rest were thirteen Japanese nuns, including Mencia, daughter of Otomo Sorin, a famous feudal lord of Bungo, and Maria, daughter of the feudal lord, Tatsui Tadatsugu.

On their arrival in Manila, Takayama was solemnly received with unprecedented honours by the GovernorGeneral, the Church dignitaries and thousands of Christians, and was everywhere looked upon as a living saint and hero. The new arrivals were greeted triumphantly by the ringing of bells as they passed the Cathedral and the Church of the Augustinians.

Soon after his arrival, however, Ukon fell suddenly ill and all remedies having proved of no avail, he yielded up his pure soul into the hands of his Creator on February 3, 1615. The people with one voice, proclaimed the passing of a great saint, as they reverently kissed his holy remains. His funeral rites were carried out with the greatest pomp for nine successive days amidst universal mourning, in the presence of the military, civil and religious authorities, together with a great concourse of people.

At the Bishops” Conference, held in Japan, six years ago, it was unanimously decided to initiate legal procedure for the introduction of the cause of Beatification of this Servant of God; thus realizing the ardent longings of the Catholics of Japan, with the assurance that the whole world would acclaim his being raised to the altars.

The Church in Japan is already rich in the number of her Saints and Blessed Martyrs; let us hope that e‘er long, Holy Mother the Church will have added to this number the first Confessor to serve as model and exemplar to us all.

According to historians, the persecution of Christians in Japan was due to a misconception. St. Paul Miki, one of the twenty-six Japanese Martyrs, when undergoing the penalty of having his ears cut off, bore his sufferings calmly and even rejoiced in the hope that his sacrifice and the shedding of his blood might draw down the light of God upon his countrymen and open their eyes to the Truth, the Truth in which the Japanese delight and for which they are ready to die. Herein lies the great ideal of the true Japanese spirit, which was best described by the celebrated scholar, Motoori Norinaga: “If a person were asked what was the spirit of Japan, he would reply: “It is like the blooming of the cherry blossom, resplendent in the morning sun.””

CHAPTER II

RESURRECTION OF THE CHURCH

It was in 1873 that the ban on Christianity was lifted in Japan. The Foreign Mission Society of Paris, which had been preparing for the preaching of the Gospel once more in Japan, by order of the Holy See, was awaiting an opportunity to dispatch Mgr. Vorcad, the first Vicar-Apostolic of Japan, to his new post. Bishop Forcad was not given the opportunity to, work in Japan. Shortly after, Father Petitjean, later appointed Vicar-Apostolic of Japan, was permitted to enter the port of Nagasaki in Kyushu, together with several other French missionaries. Thus the ground was broken for the revival of Christianity in Japan.

Shortly afterward occurred the most dramatic incident in the history of Catholicism in Japan, one which can never be forgotten. Although in those days the erection of churches was legal, Japanese were not allowed to enter them. Mgr. Petit-jean had built one in Oura, in Nagasaki, for the use of foreigners. Here, one day, he was praying before the altar, when several old Japanese women approached the church cautiously, lest they should be seen and reported, then slipped furtively through the door. One of them, drawing near to him trembling, lest the very walls should have ears, whispered: “Where is the statue of the Blessed Virgin Mary?” Mgr. Petitjean, who was unaware of their approach, turned round in wonder at the unexpected question. Disguising his emotion, he pointed towards the altar, beside which stood the statue of Our Lady. The women for a while, gazed in wonder and admiration; then casting themselves on their knees, forgetful of their fears, they poured out their hearts in prayer, as their eyes filled with tears of indescribable emotion. They who had been all their lives orphans, now found themselves face to face with their true Mother, whom unknowingly they had been seeking all the while, their whole being thrilled with joy.

Having discovered that these French missionaries were celibates, envoys sent by the Holy Sec, the women were confirmed ins the belief that these were indeed true Catholic priests, who had revisited their shores once more.

Then; one of the women, voicing the sentiments of her companions, laying her hand upon her breast said: “Our hearts are the same as yours.”

This incident is unparalleled in the history of the Catholic Missions. These women were the descendants of the Christians, who for four hundred long years, in the absence, of priests and churches, in the face of cruel persecution had maintained their Faith inviolate.

This is an historic fact bordering on the miraculous, that for four centuries, the Catholic Faith remained alive without priest or church. It was indeed the statue of the Blessed Virgin which served to reveal to the world these disciples of Christ who lied been hidden for so many years. Soon thousands of ardent Christians were discovered at Kamino-shima Island, off the port of Nagasaki, the Goto Islands and Sotome.

By the promulgation of the Constitution by the Emperor Meiji in 1889, religious freedom was assured, bringing persecution to an end, both in name and in reality. Catholicism in Japan took its first step toward a revival.

In May, 1876, all Japan was divided into two Vicariates, Mgr. Fetitjean, the first Vicar-Apostolic of Japan, was appointed to the Southern Vicariate, with Osaka as residence; Mgr. Osouf, newly-consecrated Bishop, in charge of the Northern Vicariate, with Tokyo as his See. In 1888 the Southern Vicariate was subdivided into the Southern (Kyushu) and Central Vicariates (Provinces of Kinki, Chugoku and Shikoku). The first Vicar-Apostolic of the new Southern Vicariate was Bishop Cousin, successor of Bishop Petitjean, who died in 1844. Nagasaki was his official residence. The newly-consecrated Bishop Midon was appointed the first Vicar-Apostolic of Central Japan, and fixed his See at Osaka. In April, 1891, the Northern Vicariate was in turn subdivided into the Northern and the Hakodate Vicariates. To the latter Mgr. Berlioz was appointed, being consecrated Bishop.

Seeing that Catholicism was fast gaining ground, Leo XIII formally established the Hierarchy in June, 1891. The Apostolic Vicariates were now superseded by the Archdiocese of Tokyo and the dioceses of Osaka, Nagasaki and Hakodate, respectively.

In the short time since its rebirth, Catholicism has steadily developed. New Dioceses, Vicariates and Apostolic Prefectures were established by the division, of the dioceses above mentioned. Today there are new dioceses in Fukuoka and Yokohama, Apostolic Vicariates in Sopporo and Hiroshima, and Apostolic Prefectures in Kyoto, Urawa, Shikoku, Niigata, Nagoya and Miyazaki.

CHAPTER III

THE CHURCH IN JAPAN TODAY

Most of the missionaries who came to Japan soon after the Meiji Restoration were French. Later many Mission Societies and Religious Congregations, consisting of Germans, Italians, Spaniards, Swedes and Poles, visited Japan one after another.

The officials and people of Japan accorded them the most cordial welcome, granting them the maximum convenience in the propagation of their religion, within the scope of the Constitution.

Irrespective of their nationalities, foreign Catholic missionaries have no political, economic or military relation with the countries of their origin. They devote themselves solely to the propagation of the Faith. When their mission lands reach a state of independence and self-subsistence, they depart, willingly, entrusting the mission work to the native clergy.

The above is an established policy, ever since the foundation of the Catholic Church, and is unequivocally set forth in the Encyclical, “Rerum Ecclesiae,” the famous Magna Carta of the Foreign Missions of Pope Pius XI, “Pope of the Missions.”

The most important work, therefore, and that first undertaken by foreign missionaries upon their arrival in Japan, has been to select from among the sons of devout Catholics, such promising youths as appeared suitable for the priesthood, to educate them at the seminaries with all possible care, so as to make them holy and able priests, ready to shoulder the burden of the Church of the future. As a result, there are at present about 170 Japanese priests scattered throughout the country.

Pope Pius XI stressed missionary work to such an extent that he has been often called the Pope of the Missions. His aim was to entrust as far as possible the missionary work in mission lands to native priests. He inaugurated a drastic missionary policy. In 1926 he invited to Rome six Chinese priests, in order to personally consecrate them Bishops. In 1927 he did the same for Father Januarius Hayasaka of the Sendai diocese in Japan.

The writer had the honour of attending this historic consecration, which ushered in a new epoch, that of the first Japanese Bishop of Japan. In a most solemn ceremony at the Basilica of St. Peter’s, the largest cathedral in the world, Father Januarius Hayasaka was consecrated a member of the Episcopate, the first Japanese Bishop in the history of Japan, successor of the Apostles. An unprecedented happy event for the Catholic Church in Japan, Bishop Hayasaka’s consecration in Rome became a symbol of Japan’s rosy future.

It was only natural that the first Japanese Bishop should be appointed to the diocese of Nagasaki, which occupies a peculiar position in the history of early Japanese Christianity, as well as in the history of the Christian revival in Japan. Monsignor Hayasaka, however, resigned his post in 1937 owing to a serious illness and Father Aijiro Yamaguchi was consecrated as Bishop of Nagasaki that same year. On February 13, 1938, Father Peter Doi, Secretary of the Apostolic Delegation, was appointed Archbishop of Tokyo, the Metropolitan Bishop, taking the place of Mgr. Chambon, a member of the Foreign Mission Society of Paris. With this appointment, the highest position in the Catholic Church in Japan was transferred to a Japanese.

In 1939, the Religious Organization Bill was introduced by the Government of the Imperial Diet to solve the pending issue of forty years. With the passage of the Bill by both the House of Peers and the House of Representatives, the religious circles in Japan were confronted with a great reorientation. Under such circumstances, the Catholic Church in Japan also felt it necessary to inaugurate a suitable adaptation programme. This it did voluntarily for the sake of the Church itself and for its future welfare.

The foreign Bishops and Ordinaries in all dioceses and vicariates, therefore, voluntarily resigned as Ordinaries in favour of native priests, in order to personally set an example of adaptation to the circumstances. Their spontaneous resignation was nothing but the perfection of their original mission, for foreign missionaries are primarily the explorers of mission lands, being destined to hand over the leadership of the Church in the mission lands to the native priests when the mission districts have reached the state of self-sufficiency both in personnel and in finance.

Viewed from another angle, the aforementioned change testified to the high prestige of the Catholic Church in Japan, showing that it is by no means inferior to the Catholic Church in the so-called Catholic countries, in spite of the fact that there are as yet only a small number of Japanese priests and faithful.

Under the highest authority of the Pope, the twelve Japanese Ordinaries are now solidly united and doing their utmost for the rapid spread of the Gospel and for the materialization of the true adaptation principle, strongly advocated by the famous Mateo Ricci and de Nobili. In this connection, his Excellency the Most Reverend Archbishop Paul Marella, former Apostolic Delegate to Japan, clearly declared in his speech, in the recent Bishop’s Conference held in Tokyo: “But beyond all, let us examine carefully that most signal benefit derived from these trials; namely, that of having accorded a signal occasion an opportunity of hastening the nomination of Ordinaries of Japanese nationality, throughout the whole mission field. The Holy See of its own accord appointed these Ordinaries and later on raised three of them to episcopal dignity, thus bringing the number of Japanese Bishops to five. I said it was the “occasion” not the “cause.” I said it was done “freely” and not “by constraint.” Let us study the “Minutes” of our former meetings at Sekiguchi. It was as early as 1935 that we recognized the necessity of a Japanese leader in each of the missions, on condition, nevertheless, that the Religious Orders and Societies should continue to supply the same personnel and the same pecuniary resources. Only, we questioned whether it were not asking too much, requiring what amounted to heroism. That heroism has become an accomplished fact, and it was approved and consecrated by various documents of the Holy See; letters both to the former and to the newly-appointed Ordinaries; thanks for the disinterested yielding up of positions of authority; letters to Superiors of the various Orders and Religious Bodies, exhorting them to allow their subjects to continue their labours as of old under the altered circumstances.”

At present the Catholic Church in Japan has fifteen ecclesiastical Circumscriptions, namely, the Archdiocese of Tokyo; Dioceses of Osaka, Nagasaki, Sendai, Fukuoka and Yokohama; Apostolic Vicariates in Sapporo and Hiroshima; and Apostolic Prefectures in Kagoshima, Shikoku, Miyazaki, Kyoto, Nagoya, Niigata and Urawa.

As already mentioned, the Archdiocese of Tokyo, formerly entrusted by the Holy See to the Foreign Mission Societyof Paris, with members of the Society appointed as successive Archbishops, is now governed by Mgr. Do”_, a Japanese, who succeeded Mgr. Chambon in 1938. He is assisted by numerous religious congregations. Being the capital of the country, Tokyo has several central agencies for the benefit of all missions in this country, the Apostolic Delegaton, the Major Seminary, the Catholic University, the National Catholic Committee, and flourishing Catholic secondary schools for boys and girls.

The Nagasaki Diocese also belonged to the Foreign Mission Society, with their own Bishops, until the accession of Mgr. Hayasaka. The diocese is now in the care of Mgr. Paul Yamaguchi, who succeeded Mgr. Hayasaka as second Japanese Bishop of Nagasaki. The Nagasaki Diocese is renowned throughout the world for its Martyrs, as well as other famous Christians of ancient times. It counts about sixty thousand Catholics, being, roughly, half the Catholic population of Japan. Most of the religious vocations, either for the Priesthood or for Sisterhoods, come from the old Catholic families. It is here that the discovery of the three century old Catholics took place.

The Osaka Diocese was also entrusted to the French Fathers of the Foreign Missions, which supplied it with several Bishops in succession. Mgr. Castanier resigned in 1940 in favour of Mgr. Paul Taguchi, then Secretary of the Apostolic Delegation in Japan. This diocese has two large cities, i.e., Osaka, second largest city in Japan and the centre of commerce and industry, and Kobe, one of the, largest international ports, with a Catholic population of about ten thousand; it is also noted for its importance in the Christian history of this country. It ranks next to Nagasaki and Tokyo in the. number of its believers. The Osaka diocese is now entrusted to the., native clergy and the Fathers of the Foreign Missions, together with many, religious Orders, who help in the work of the parishes.

The Diocese of Sendai, formerly knows as Hakodate Diocese, belonged to the Fathers of the Foreign Missions, under French Ordinaries, and then to the Canadian Dominican Fathers, under Mgr. Lemieux, first Bishop of Sendai, who was succeeded in 1941 by the present Bishop Urakawa. The diocese is now in the charge of the native clergy and the Canadian Dominican Fathers. In the Sendai Diocese are the two famous convents of Trappists and Trappistines.

The Diocese of Fukuoka was established in 1927 through the division of the Diocese of Nagasaki, on the occasion of the appointment of Mgr. Hayasaka. At first it belonged to French Missionaries under successive Bishops of the same society, but then its leadership was transferred to Mgr. Fukahori, first Japanese Bishop of Fukuoka. This diocese has a fairly large number of Christians and is famous for its industry.

The Diocese of Yokohama was established through the division of the Tokyo Diocese. Mgr. Chambon, formerly Archbishop of Tokyo, was appointed first Archbishop-Bishop of Yokohama, but he spontaneously resigned in favour of Mgr. J. Ideguchi. Now this mission is entrusted to the Fathers of the Foreign Mission Society and the native priests, under Bishop T. Wakita.

The Apostolic Vicariate of Sapporo became independent of the Diocese of Hakodate in 1915. It was entrusted to German Franciscan Missionaries under Mgr. A. Seno, present Apostolic Administrator.

The Apostolic Vicariate of Hiroshima became an independent Division separated from the Diocese of Osaka in 1923. It belongs to the German Jesuit Missionaries, under the present Apostolic Administrator, Mgr. Ogihara, S.J.

The Prefecture of Shikoku became independent of the Diocese of Osaka in 1904 and has been in the charge of Spanish Dominican Missionaries under Mgr. Paul Taguchi, Bishop of Osaka, who in addition, holds the post of Apostolic Administrator of this mission.

The Apostolic Prefecture of Niigata became independent of the Archbishop of Tokyo in 1912 and belongs to the Society of the Divine Word.

The Apostolic Prefecture of Nagoya has also been entrusted to the same society. Both of them are now under Mgr. Peter Matsuoka, Apostolic Prefect.

The Apostolic Prefecture of Kagoshima became independent of the Diocese of Nagasaki in 1927. It formerly belonged to the Canadian Franciscan Missionaries. With the evacuation of these Fathers it passed to the control of Japanese priests under Mgr. I. Ideguchi, Apostolic Administrator.

The Apostolic Prefecture of Miyazaki became independent of the Diocese of Nagasaki in 1928 and is still in the charge of Italian Salesian Missionaries under Bishop Fukahori, concurrently Apostolic Administrator of Miyazaki.

The Apostolic Prefecture of Kyoto became independent of the Diocese of Osaka in 1937 and was entrusted to the American Foreign Mission Society of Maryknoll, under Mgr. Patrick Byrn, M.M. The Maryknoll Fathers opened several posts in the new mission for the extension of the Kingdom of God. In 1941, Mgr. Byrn resigned as Prefect Apostolic with all other foreign Ordinaries in favour of Mgr. Paul Furuya, Apostolic Prefect.

The Apostolic Prefecture of Urawa became independent of the Diocese of Tokyo in 1938, and is now under the charge of the Canadian Franciscan Missionaries, under Mgr. Paul Uchino, Apostolic Prefect of Urawa.

CHAPTER IV

PERFECT FREEDOM OF FAITH AND CENTRAL CATHOLIC ORGANIZATION

As mentioned before, the forty-year-old problem since 1899 was solved with the passage of the Religious Organization Bill by both the House of Peers and the House of Representatives in 1939. The Law was promulgated on April 8, the same year, as Law No. 77 and was put into effect on April 1, the following year. Legislation regarding religious organizations was thus readjusted and unified, marking the completion of basic rules for the operation of the religious administration.

The Religious Organization Law pretended to uphold firmly the principle of the freedom of religion in accordance with the Constitution. It does not provide for any restriction against religious doctrines, creeds or internal structures, putting stress, as its name indicates, on the proper supervision and guidance of the external activities of the religious organizations.

Until the promulgation of the Religious Organization Law, Christian organizations in Japan were, as far as the law was concerned, only religious societies, not recognized by the Education Office, in spite of the fact that they were actually fully fledged religious organizations. In other words, they were, legally speaking, tolerated.

The Catholic Church in Japan, too, was morally compelled to formulate “Regulations of the Catholic Civil Corporation in Japan,” required by Article three of the Religious Organization law, and asked for recognition as a juridical person, without which its existence was in danger. As a result, it was formally recognized by the Education Minister ahead pf other Christian organizations in

Japan on May 3, 1941. Catholicism thus came to enjoy the same rights obligatiows a>.d protection as Shintoism and Buddhism, both of which have long histories in Japan.

Following the unconditional surrender of Japan all the Articles of the Potsdam Declaration are to be executed as faithfully as possible by this country. The perfect freedom of Faith and Religion is no doubt a great concern, and has a special importance amongst the Articles of the said Declaration. The 28th article of the Japanese Constitution, guaranteeing freedom of Faith and Religion, contains a clause saying: “Unless it is against the public order and the duty of citizens.” As a result, this clause is susceptible of many capricious and opportunistic interpretations compromising the freedom itself, on the part of misled Government officers and extremists. In 1936 the Japanese Government promulgated the Constitution, in which the freedom of religion, as we ardently hope, is perfectly guaranteed. With a view to safeguarding perfect freedom of Religion, all laws, ordinances or institutes compromising it were definitely abrogated or dissolved; among them the Religious Organizations Law and its annexed regulations, secret police system, gendarmerie, etc. The Bureau for the religious affairs in the Education Ministry changed its policy from supervision and guidance to the protection of religious bodies. As a matter of fact, the aforementioned Religious Organizations Law was patterned after the constitutional regulations of Buddhist and Shintoist sects prevailing in this country, which contain many articles antagonistic to the Christian organizations.

The great mistake in this law was the standardization or uniformity in the composition of the different articles, which are applied to all religious alike, regardless as to whether they are Buddhist, Shintoist or Christian. There were also too many bureaucratic articles requiring a very complicated business routine from pastors, who were rather business men than teachers of religion.

As a natural course, with the abrogation of the aforementioned law, the Kyodan (Catholic Civil Corporation) based upon it, was necessarily dissolved. Even under the mentioned law and in spite of, the Kyodan, the Canon Law was, in fact, recognized by the Japanese authorities and fully observed by the Catholic Church in Japan, although it may appear otherwise. What was seemingly against Canon Law, was always to be interpreted in a civil sense and not canonically. In this connection, our fernier Apostolic Delegate keenly observes in his abovementioned speech: “Now, being free, qua libertate Christus nos liberavit, eased of that oppressive yoke of governmental control, let us not disdain or set too low a price on these efforts towards prudent adaptation to which we owe these positive advantages. The first of these advantages is the official destruction of that century old prejudice, by the recognition of our equal rights to existence as Catholics on the same footing as other religions in Japan. The second to have more securely established the meetings of the Ordinaries by cementing between them a closer union, rich in fruitfulness. It is our cherished hope that this union should continue to grow closer and more fraternal still, if possible, owing to the establishment of the permanent Committee of Bishops, with appropriate offices, for the purpose of studying the new problems of the nation and to allow fruitful intercourse with the civil authorities. The third advantage is to have drawn up a programme of economic independence, which although an ambitious one, has nevertheless served to awaken the attention of the faithful to their duty of supporting the material needs of the Church. The fourth to have made ourselves known and at times even appreciated by the officials both in the capital and in the provinces, many of whom, until the passing of the law, had scarcely heard of the existence of the Catholic Church. The fifth, the necessity of being ever on the watch with regard to what we said, wrote or did, of racking our brains, as it were, to show in a fitting light to those, who had been sent precisely to catch us in our speech, now this aspect and now that of our Holy Religion. An exercise which has taught us self-control and prudence, the necessity also of carefully studying the would-be enquirer before opening to him the Treasures of the Christian Truths. Let the fruit of so many discussions, of so many measures of prudence in the correction and revision of our religious books, remain in the new Japan as a monument to future ages of the way in which missions should overcome difficulties in moments of crises, without succumbing.”

Archbishop Marella goes on to say, “It was my intention only to stress a point on which I was anxious, that liberty should not be mistaken for confusion. I wished to insist on the necessity of con-cord, according to the well-known saying of Sallust: “Concordia parvae res crescunt, discordia maximae dilahunt.” Little things grow through concord, through discord, great ones fall to pieces. We feel the great necessity of co-ordinating and organizing our energies and works in this country where there are numerous ecclesiastical .circumscriptions, so many religious congregations and so few Catholics in so limited an area. It is even so after the dissolution of the Catholic Corporation (Kyodan) following the abrogation of the Religious Organization Law.”

As a matter of fact, the Ordinaries of Japan, in the Conference of 1945, discussed seriously the problem, and decided to establish the National Catholic Committee of Japan, after the model of the National Catholic Welfare Conference in the United States of America. The National Catholic Committee is not a council or legislative assembly, as contemplated by the Sacred Canons, but is an organization of the members of the Hierarchy of japan, therefore, every Ordinary of the Church in Japan, ipso facto, belongs to it and has an active voice and a passive voice in the Conference. As the Conference was recognized as a juridical person by the Authorities, all Ordinaries were appointed directors of this foundation.

Practically, however, the Committee is to be administered by a permanent executive Committee, composed of three Ordinaries, who are to be elected for the purpose at the annual meeting of the Hierarchy of Japan. The Conference has its executive organ, with its office, under the chairman of the Executive Board, with six different Departments under respective Directors. All the members of the aforementioned Administrative Committee, the chairman of the Executive Board and Directors of the Departments, were elected at the last meeting of the Ordinaries in 1945 to serve for the term of five years. The Archbishop of Tokyo is elected the chairman of the Board of Directors of the Conference; members of the permanent Administrative Committee are Mgr. Doi, Archbishop of Tokyo; Mgr. Taguchi, Bishop of Osaka; and Mgr. Uchino, Apostolic Prefect of Urawa; Bishop Taguchi, the chairman of the Executive Board; the Rev. Father Shimura is appointed the Director of General Affairs; Rev. Fr. Fukahori, Director of the Department of the Press; Rev. Fr. Roggendorf, S.J., Director of Education and Culture Department; Rev. Fr. Flaujac, M.E., Director of the Department of Social Works; Rev. Fr. Henvers, S.J., Director of the Catholic Action Department; Rev. Fr. Bitter, S.J., Director of Restoration.

CHAPTER V

RELATIONS BETWEEN THE VATICAN AND JAPAN

Settling a long-pending issue, the Japanese Government, on February 26, 1942, formally adjusted its diplomatic relations with the Vatican, appointing Ken Harada, Councillor of the Japanese Embassy in France, as the first Special Delegate to the Vatican.

The friendly relations between Japan and the Vatican, to which Minister Harada was dispatched, have a very long history. The first intercourse was the dispatch of the Juvenile Amity Envoys by the three Lords of Kyushu, namely, Otomo, Omura and Arima, in 1518.

In 1615, the famous Tsunenaga Hasekura was dispatched as a mission of the Date Masamune, feudal lord of Ou. After the Meiji Restoration, Pope Leo XIII caused Mgr. Pierre Marie Osouf, Archbishop of Tokyo, to submit his personal letter to the Emperor Meiji in 1885. To return the courtesy, the Emperor sent Prince Kimmochi Saionji to the Vatican as a Minister Extra-ordinary Plenipotentiary; after which, Pope Leo XIII dispatched his Excellency the Most Rev. William O”Connell, Bishop of Portland, later Cardinal Archbishop of Boston, to Japan as a Special Envoy. Mgr. O”Connell arrived in Japan on October 29, 1905, and was received in audience by the Emperor Meiji on November 10, the same year, at the Imperial Palace, whereupon he submitted the personal letter of the Pope to the Emperor.

In 1907, Japan decided to send a Special Envoy to the Vatican, appointing Yasuya Uchida as the Ambassador Extraordinary and Plenipotentiary to the Holy See on April 25. Ambassador Uchida left Japan on May 1, and was received by the Pope on July 22, when he presented to him a personal letter from the Emperor Meiji.

In the Taisho era, Mgr. Joseph Petrelli, Apostolic Delegate to the Philippine Islands, was sent to Japan on the occasion of the Enthronement Ceremony of the Emperor Taisho, as a Special Envoy of Felicitation, while several negotiations were conducted between Japan and the Vatican concerning the settlement of the missionary issue in the Japanese mandated South Sea Islands and other problems. In 1923, the question of stationing a minister at the Vatican was taken up by the Japanese Government, but the plan did not materialize.

When the Reigning Emperor, the then Prince Regent, went abroad, his Majesty met Pope Benedict XV at the Vatican on July 15, 1921. To return the courtesy, the former Pope, Pius XI, sent Mgr. Mario Giardini to Japan as a Special Envoy in 1922. The Emperor received him in audience and granted him the First Order of Merit with the Grand Cordon of the Rising Sun on May 23. The Ruler then granted him a banquet and gracious words.

Moreover, the Sovereign has granted audience on several occasions to Mgr. Paul Marella, Papal Envoy. His Majesty has also received in audience several persons related to the Roman Catholic Church. His Imperial Highness Prince Takamatsu, younger brother of the Emperor, met Pope Pius XI in 1930, at the Vatican.

The Vatican was visited by Prince Tesato Tokugawa in 1931, by a party of the Dai Nippon Boys” Association, headed by Viscount Mishima in 1938 and by a good-will mission to Italy headed by Ambassador Sato, former Foreign Minister, in 1940. Besides, many dignitaries of Japan’s political and diplomatic circles visited the Vatican.

From the Vatican, an Apostolic Delegate was dispatched to Japan for the first time in 1919, when Benedict XV was Pope. The first Apostolic Delegate to Japan was the Most Rev. Archbishop Peter Fumasoni-Biondi, who came to Japan, where he remained until 1921. Archbishop Mario Giardini came to Japan from Italy on March 19, 1922, as the successor of Mgr. Peter Fumasoni-Biondi and remained nine full years, till April, 1931.

The next Apostolic Delegate to Japan was the Most Rev. Archbishop Edward Mooney, who held that post for a little over two years. He was appointed Apostolic Delegate to India, January 8, 1926, and later appointed Apostolic Delegate to Japan on February 25, 1931. He was then transferred to the See of Rochester on August 28, 1933, and later transferred to the metropolitan See of Detroit on August 3, 1937. He has since been created Cardinal of the Roman Catholic Church.

On September 10, 1933, Mgr. Paul Marella, Uditor of the Apostolic Delegation to the United States, was appointed Apostolic Delegate to Japan, and was promoted Titular Archbishop of Doclea. He was consecrated in October in Rome and arrived in Japan on December 19, of the same year.

No Treaty has so far been concluded between Japan and the Vatican, so the recent appointment of the Minister Harada as a Special Delegate to the Vatican was based on an Imperial Ordinance, No. 64, of 1917. His appointment was regarded as a preliminary step to the future appointment of a Minister or an Ambassador to the Vatican, and he received treatment as an Ambassador Plenipotentiary in the Vatican.

Hailing from Kyoto, Minister Harada is a refined diplomat, while his wife, Wakako, is a devout Catholic, graduating from the Sacred Heart School, both in Osaka and in Tokyo. Father Tomizawa, of Kyoto, was the Ecclesiastical Counsellor to Minister Harada. The appointment of Minister Harada proved very popular not only in official quarters and in private circles in Japan, but also in the Vatican. The order of the Supreme Commander for the Allied Powers to the Japanese Government issued an order on October 25, 1945, recalling all Japanese diplomats, this applied also in that case of the Japanese Special Delegate to the Vatican. He and his family came back to Japan.

In 1948, Archbishop Marella was transferred to the Apostolic Delegation of Sydney, in Australia, and in 1949 Archbishop Maximilian de Furstenburg was appointed as Apostolic Delegate to Japan, and arrived in Tokyo on July 2, 1949.

CHAPTER VI

PRIESTLY VOCATIONS AND SEMINARIES

The Catholic Church in Japan leapt, so to speak, from its in-fancy to the prime of life, skipping the period of youth, by force of circumstances, during the war and pre-war times. This phenomenon was indeed an act of Providence. The necessity for Japanese priests became imperative, for at such a moment Japanese priests alone could meet the requirements of the Church in the emergency. Under the circumstances, the Catholic Church in Japan started anew with the object of materializing economic in-dependence and is making great strides towards perfect self-sufficiency in personnel.

According to an investigation conducted in 1948, there were 122,468 Catholics in Japan proper. The number of Catholics is quite insignificant amongst a total population of 80 millions. There were at that time 519 priests in the Japanese Empire, of whom about 167 were Japanese, much too small a number for the present requirements. The Catholic Church is, therefore, making untold efforts to foster Japanese vocations, in spite of the great sacrifice it entails.

In 1929, Mgr. Chambon, then Archbishop of Tokyo, established the Major Seminary for the Archdiocese of Tokyo. The Seminary was recognized in 1932 by the Holy See as the only Regional Seminary in Japan, both in name and in reality.

At the same time, its management was entrusted to the Foreign Mission Society of Paris, which has the longest record of mission work in Japan, since the Meiji Restoration. In 1940, however, the supervision of the seminary passed into the hands of the native Ordinaries.

The Seminary has a Philosophy Department, with a three-year course and a Theology Department with a four-year course. Only the graduates of Secondary or Higher Schools are admitted. Before the war, the Seminary had about a hundred students. It is not too much to say that the future of the Catholic Church in Japan depends on these students.

During the war, the majority of the Seminarians were called for military service. They came back little by little from the front to take up once more their life as Seminarians. The buildings, too, were badly damaged but were repaired; which fact, together with the shortage of food, has necessitated a temporary closing of the Seminary

Now when circumstances seem so favourable for the growth of the Church, the ecclesiastical authorities have determined to focus all their attention on fostering priestly vocations. A crusade of prayer is being organized to implore God to send labourers into His vineyard; to stir up in the hearts of the young that generous ardour to answer His call; to grant us splendid vocations, for herein, we all appreciate, lies the hope of the future.

The Diocese of Nagasaki, watered by the blood of the martyrs, has ever been a fruitful soil for priestly and religious vocations, and it is among the descendants of the old Catholic families that the best vocations are found. Certainly the choicest blessings of 11eaven have been reserved for these worthy descendants of the old time martyrs; for as Tertullian says: “Sanguis Martyrum, semen Christianorum.”

But in other diocese, too, we find excellent vocations, even among the upper classes, among the students of universities, high schools and colleges. The low level of morality has been considered as the cause of the war, or at least one of its causes, by the public, who now realize that in Religion lies the country’s salvation. Our generous Catholic youth is anxious to consecrate his life to the service of God and the spiritual renovation of our people.

To maintain seminaries and to support and train our seminarians, requires large sums of money. The Pontifical work of St. Peter helps to defray the expenses of the latter to a great extent, our Japanese Catholics, too, are generous in their support; but we are still far from being self-supporting.

There are Minor Seminaries, which serve as preliminary schools for the Major Seminaries. There are now the Minor Seminaries in Tokyo, Osaka, Nagasaki, Fukuoka, Nagoya and Sapporo, the number of whose students total about two hundred.

There are two Major Seminaries, one in Tokyo, conducted by the Jesuit Fathers, and another in Fukuoka, in Ryuihu Island, run by the Sulpician Fathers.

CHAPTER VII

CATHOLIC SCHOOLS

There are a fair number of Catholic schools in Japan, all of them recognized by the Government. The Education Office, in its Decree No. 12, of 1898, revealed its fundamental policy concerning religious education. According to this Decree, secular education and religious teaching are to be kept separate. This applies not only to Governmental and Public Schools, but also to all private schools recognized by the State. This regulation has been maintained until recently. According to the regulations, no religious doctrine could be taught during school hours and no religious ceremonies could be performed. This, however, did not apply to private instruction given to individuals at their own request.

Though in theory, private schools were not obliged to apply for State Recognition, in practice it was essential to do so, for without it a school had no standing and could not obtain the confidence of the parents, and therefore obtained no recruitment.

All the Catholic schools applied for this official recognition. Enjoying the confidence of the public, as to the manner of education, they find it difficult to accept all the applicants who flock to them each year. Especially numerous are students coming from well-to-do families. Not only the private lessons in the Catholic doctrine, but still more, the good example and holy lives of the Fathers, Brothers and Sisters lead to many conversions among the students and children. Many of their graduates are now holding important posts in the Government or in public or social circles, or have become wives of those who hold such posts. They are the wives of the prominent personages, and mothers of promising youths. As a matter of fact, these Catholic schools have had a greater influence than the parishes, in the conversion of the intellectual classes.

On October 15, 1945, Mr. Maeda, Minister of Education, issued an epoch-making decree on religious education in private schools. Notwithstanding Decree No. 12 of the Education Ministry, issued in 1898, religious education can be given as an extra, and religious ceremonies can be held under the following conditions: (1) That the religious liberty of the students be safeguarded; (2) that mention be made of the particular religion, whose doctrine is taught, or of the ceremonies to be performed; (3) that care be taken not to overburden in any way the students to the detriment of their health and not to cause them anxiety of mind.

The Catholic schools, as the salt, or the light of the world, are expected to fulfil from now on even more efficiently the important mission entrusted to them by Our Lord and His Church for the conversion of the intellectual classes. We rejoice to hear on all sides of the plans made to carry out this programme. Unfortunately, sixteen of our larger Catholic schools were victims of the recent war. This is a very heavy loss for a missionary country such as Japan. Nagasaki alone lost twenty Sisters of the educational Orders. The rebuilding of our schools is a great problem. Let us hope that many more schools will be established and that as soon as possible they will play their part in helping the great work that Providence has entrusted to them. We must remember that the Protestants have far more schools of all types than we have, universities, colleges, high schools and elementary schools.

The Jesuits came to Japan in 1913 and established Sophia University at Kojimachi, Tokyo. The University has a philosophy, literature and commerce department as well as a college. The students number about one thousand.

The Marianist Society has contributed much to Secondary School Education in Japan. It has many Japanese members.These Marianists came to Japan in 1888 and founded, in Tokyo, “The Morning Star” Middle and Primary Schools, St. Joseph’s College in Yokohama, “The Brilliant Star” School in Osaka, and “The Star of the Sea” School in Nagasaki, each of which has about one thousand students at the present time.

In 1932, the Fathers of the Society of the Divine Word opened the Nanzan Middle School in Nagoya and founded a college in 1949. Later, German Fathers of the Franciscan Order established the Kosei Commercial School in Sapporo, while in 1938 the Diocese of Nagasaki established the Tokyo Middle School.

The Salesian Fathers are running professional schools in Tokyo and Osaka.

The activities of the Catholics in Japan are more conspicuous in the education of girls than of boys.

The Sisters of St. Maur came to Japan in 1872, opening the Koran Girls” High School in Yokohama, the Futaba Girls” High School, Primary School and Kindergarten attached thereto, the Girls” High School in Fukuoka, and the Sumire Joshi Gakuin in Tokyo.

The Sacred Heart Sisters came to Japan in 1908 and established the Seishin Gakuin in Tokyo and Kobe, both of which have a Women’s College, a Girls” High School, a Primary School and a Kindergarten.

The Sisters of the Sacred Heart and those of St. Maur chiefly educate girls of the upper classes. Many of their graduates are playing important roles in Japanese society.

The Sisters of Chaufailles came to Japan in 1877 and established the Shinai Girls” High School in Osaka, the Ecole Sainte-Marie in Kobe, the Joshi Girls” High School in Nagasaki, and the Kambayashi Girls” High School in Kumamoto, as well as many kindergartens and orphanages.

The Sisters of St. Paul de Chartres came to Japan in 1878, and opened primary and secondary schools for girls in Tokyo, Katase, Hakodate, Morioka, Sendai and Yatsushiro, while the French Sisters of Nevers opened the Seibo Girls” High School in the outskirts of Osaka.

The Sisters of the Holy Ghost came to Japan in 1908 and founded a Girls” High School in Akita.

The Sisters of Notre Dame de Namur came to Japan in 1924, and opened a large Girls” High School and Women’s College in Okayama. The Dominican Sisters arrived in 1925 and inaugurated a Girls” Commercial School in Matsuyama. The Spanish Sisters, known as theMercedarians, also came some years ago and founded the Koen Girls” High School in Tokyo.

Recently the Franciscan Missionary Sisters of Mary opened the Kaisei Gtrls” High School in Kolu.

The Handmaidens of the Sacred Heart opened also a large Middle School and College for girls in Yokosuka.

The Japanese Sisters of the Visitation and the Daughters of the Sacred Heart, which were established in 1927 .and 1920 respectively, have kindergartens in various parts of the country. The former, moreover, has also a Girls” High School in Miyazuru and one in Maizuru, in the Kyoto Civil Prefecture.

CHAPTER VIII

CATHOLIC CHARITABLE INSTITUTIONS

“Have compassion on them,” said Jesus Christ. To relieve the sick and the poor, is to follow in the footsteps of Christ crucified.

The arrival of foreign missionaries, both men and women, in Japan, saw the foundation and growth of charitable institutions of every kind. The first leprosarium founded in Japan was the Fukusei Hospital at Koyama, Shizuoka Prefecture, which was established by Father Testvide, of the Foreign Mission Society of Paris, in 1888. At present, the Canadian Sisters of Christ the King are in charge of the hospital.

The Franciscan Missionaries of Mary are in charge of the famous International Hospital in Tokyo, a work of charity on a vast scale. They have also in their care the General Hospital at Yokohama and the International Hospital of Kolu.

Father Flaujac, of the Foreign Mission Society of Paris, has been engrossed heart and soul in anti-tuberculosis enterprises for some years, managing two sanatoria for this purpose, known respectively as Bethany House and Bethlehem Garden. Further extending his activities, he founded the juridical corporation, “Jisai Kai,” as well as the Religious Congregation called “Bernadettes,” who devote themselves chiefly to the cause of patients and children. There are already a good number of Sisters belonging to the new Congregation.: ,

Father Vincent Totsuka founded the Sakuramachi Hospital in Tokyo and the “Kaijoryo” in Chiba Prefecture.

The Adoratrice Sisters came to Japan in 1928 and established the “Shiragikuryo,” a reformatory for girls, in Tokyo and Yokohama. The Sisters of Charity opened the Seibo Hospital and “Social Hall,” a dispensary for the purpose of giving free medical treatment to the poor of Osaka, a much-needed charity in that large industrial city.

The Jesuits and Silesians of “Tokyo are engaged in enterprises for the relief of the poor at Mikawajima, in Tokyo, while the Japanese Sisters of the Visitation are in charge of the St. Theresa Sanatorium at Shichirigahama, in the Kanagavva Prefecture, the Sanatorium at Kusatsu, Shiga Prefecture, and a hospital at Shindenbara, Fukuoka Prefecture.

Also playing an important role in charitable works are the Daughters of the Sacred Heart, a Japanese Religious Congregation, who manage kindergartens, dispensaries, nurseries and sanatoria throughout the country and spend themselves in the service of the poverty-stricken people.

The Sisters of St. Paul de Chartres, with their headquarters at Tokyo, are devoted mainly to enterprises for social welfare. They have hospitals, free dispensaries and nurseries in various cities.

The Diocesan Charitable works are too numerous to enumerate here. Especially numerous are the nurseries in Nagasaki and other dioceses, which occasionally receive Imperial monetary grants. The Central Government, as well as the Metropolitan and Prefectural Governments, have given aid on numerous occasions, presented subsidies to charitable enterprises in various dioceses and commended the Fathers and Sisters for their generous help towards the social and cultural welfare of the people. The Imperial Foundation, “Keifuku Kai,” has given monetary encouragement to social welfare enterprises connected with Catholics.

It must be clearly understood, that as followers of Christ, zeal for souls is ever uppermost in the hearts of the priests and nuns who devote themselves to these works of charity. In this spirit, they and their helpers visit the public hospitals and sanatoria and other charitable institutions, that they may bring spiritual consolation to the inmates, and Baptism to countless souls on the threshold of eternity. A lady catechist in Osaka baptized 902 persons “in articulo mortis” in a single year. Is it not a wonderful supernatural work?

Owing to the destruction caused by the war in most of our large cities, such as Tokyo and Osaka, there are hundreds of thousands who are homeless, wandering about the streets. cold and hungry, often lying at death’s door by the roadside. The Daughters of St. Vincent de Paul and the Japanese Sisters of “Caritas” are opening Homes of Refuge for these unfortunates in the city of Osaka, and have received help and encouragement from the authorities and from kind benefactors. It is to be particularly noted that Mr. Shinjiro Torii, president of the Hojukai, in Osaka, is tendering the hands of charity and mercy to countless afflicted people of the war, through the activities of the Catholic nuns.

In Tokyo, Father Flaujac, of the Foreign Mission Society of Paris, has also inaugurated a huge spiritual campaign towards this end.

CHAPTER IX

CATHOLIC CULTURAL ENTERPRISES

Two obstacles, so far, have prevented any Catholic literary work on a large scale: First, the Missioners were foreigners; secondly, they were comparatively few in number and missionary work proper absorbed all of their energies. One name stands out above all others for labours in this sphere, namely, that of the late Father Liguel, of the Foreign Mission Society of Paris. While Superior of the Tokyo Theological Seminary, Father Liguel published such voluminous books as: “Theological Outlines,” “Scholastic Philosophical Outline,” and his “Ideal Young Men.” He was indeed a prominent figure in his day.

Another able writer was Father Lemoine, M.E., who founded and was the publisher of the Catholic organ known as “Koe” (The Voice). Father Steichein, M.E., of Luxemburg, succeeded Father Lemoine as editor, and devoted his life to forwarding the spread of Catholic literature.

Father Stichein wrote a famous book: “The Christian Daimyo,” which was subsequently translated into English and French. Father Drouart de Lesez, Director of the Fukusei, in Shizuoka, in his later days, was in the forefront of the literary movement as a philosopher and a theologian.

His book, “The Origin of Truth,” is very popular among the people who consider it one of the literary masterpieces of the day.

Father Raguet, of Nagasaki, while engaged in preaching the Gospel, translated the New Testament into Japanese from the Greek original, and today the translation is widely used because of its accuracy.

Father Raguet, M.E., also published other religious books as well as a French-Japanese Dictionary, thus contributing much towards the linguistic studies of the country.

Father Villon, M.E., of Osaka, known as “the gem of the missionaries,” wrote “Senketsu Isho” (The Blood-Stained Will), which is the record of martyred Christians, and which won literary fame for its author.

Father Joseph Dalmann, S.J., who was a professor at Jochi University, and who lately passed away, was a great authority on Indian philosophy, comparable with the German scholar, Deusen.

The late Father Bousquet, M.E., apostle of the Blessed Sacrament of the altar and devotee of Saint Therese of Lisieux, wrote many books on the life of the Little Flower and on the devotion to the Holy Eucharist, which were appreciated not only by the Christian people, but also by others.

With the advent of the new age, Catholic publishing circles became animated. The Catholic Press Centre was founded in 1931 to publish numerous Catholic periodicals. Taking over the right of publishing, the Press Centre began publishing the magazine “Koe” (Vox Catholica), which had been circulating for forty years. This latter was intended for the ordinary public. Another magazine, called “The Catholics,” was devoted to research work. The new organ began publishing a weekly, “The Catholic Times,” hitherto published tri-monthly by the Catholic Young Men’s As- sociation of Tokyo. In 1934, it published “Umi no Hoshi” (Star of the Sea), as a magazine for juveniles.

Prior to this, a conference to discuss ways and means of con-trolling the minor Catholic periodicals published in various parts of the country, was held during the latter part of 1931. Bishop Paul Taguchi, of Osaka, while a young diocesan priest of Tokyo, took the leadership of the Catholic Press Centre as its Director General This post he held from 1931–1937.

“The Catholic Shimbum” then became the important organ of the religious organizations. Subsequently, the magazine, “Catholics, had its publication rights transferred to the Catholic Research Company founded by Father Soichi Iwashita. Today it is being edited by the professors of Jochi University.

Standing head and shoulders above their contemporaries at the beginning of the new age were Fathers Soichi Iwashita and Bunkei Totsuka, both influential Japanese.

Born of notable families, they graduated from the Tokyo University with honours. Abandoning worldly ambitions, they became Catholic priests and devoted their lives to the relief of the sick and the needy while serving ever in the vanguard of the Catholic literary movement.

For many years, Father Iwashita led a life of sacrifice among the lepers of the Fukusei Hospital at Koyama, of which he was in charge. Being an able Professor of Philosophy, he made himself felt through his lectures to the Catholic Research Associations of various Universities in Tokyo, as well as in the Tokyo Regional Seminary.

Founding the Catholic Research Association and St. Philip’s Home in Tokyo, he devoted his life to the proper guidance of young people. He also wrote various books, including “A Correspondence Course on Catholic Doctrine,” “St. Augustine’s City of God,” “Study on Mediaeval Philosophy” and “Pioneers of Modern Thought.”

Following his death, his followers published a collection of his works, through the famed Iwanami Book Publishing Company in Tokyo, which had already” published such volumes as “A Legacy of Faith” and “A Study on Mediaeval Philosophy.”

Father Totsuka was a gifted literary man. He was especially famous for his translations of well-known Occidental works. He was also the author of many original works, including, “St. Paul,” “Rural Reform” and “The Introduction to a Devout Life.”

Both Father Iwashita and Father Totsuka did much towards the establishment and management of the Catholic Press Centre. Father Iwashita was especially active, publishing deep theological essays in every issue of the magazine, “Catholic.”

As already stated, Father Raguet had translated the New Testament, but there was still no translation of the Old Testament for Catholics, Father Osamu Shibutani now determined to supply the deficiency, and so to complete the translation of the holy scriptures.

Father Shibutani, of the Vicariate of Hiroshima, had previously established the Okayama Catholic Ideological Research Institute and had been publishing “Biblical Ideology.” Manifesting great zeal in the study of Scripture, he has been appealing to new Catholic followers.

At present, Father Shibutani is endeavouring to complete the Japanese translation of “The Old Testament,” in Nagasaki. Aiming at issuing “A Collection of Christian Thoughts” in a series of about twenty volumes, he has already published “Various Problems of Spirits” and “Comments on Christian Doctrine.”

At this time, when the study of ancient Christianity is of such interest in literary circles in Japan, “Christian History Research Institutes” have been founded both in Tokyo and Nagasaki, and some invaluable publications have been issued.

Prominent among those engaged in this study are Bishop Urakawa, of Sendai, and Father Laures, S.J., Professor of Sophia University, and Dr Peter Humberclaude, S.M., Secretary of the Apostolic Delegation and lecturer of French literature in the Imperial University of Tokyo. Bishop Urakawa, having been Superior of the Nagasaki Seminary for many years, and having lived in Nagasaki, the cradle of Japanese Christianity, studying both the written and oral tradition of its people, now offers the fruits of his studies to the public in numerous books, including, “The Revival of Christianity” in two volumes.

Having travelled extensively both in Japan and abroad, Father Laures has collected Christian literature and established “The Christian History Library” at Sophia. It is a centre of attraction to the students of Philosophy and Theology.

Famous in law circles in Japan is Professor Kotaro Tanaka, of Tokyo Imperial University, who is a member of the Imperial Academy and a devout Catholic. Although he specializes in Commercial Law, Professor Tanaka is wellversed in Philosophy of Law. Few excel him in the study of the legal ideology of St. Thomas Aquinas.

Also well-versed in various languages, he is gifted in cultural arts, especially music. As an exchange professor, he delivered lectures at the University of Rome. Subsequently, he visited Latin America on invitation, making a lecture tour.

Professor Tanaka has published numerous books on commercial law, as well as on other subjects. Included among his works are “Theory of World Laws,” in a series of three volumes, “Study on Commercial Law” and “Laws, Religions and Social Life.”

Doubtless, Professor Kotaro Tanaka is one of the foremost scholars of the present day in Japan.

Concerning the study of the theological and philosophical doctrine of St. Thomas Aquinas, various professors of the Tokyo Catholic Major Seminary and Sophia University are most active. This was especially true of the late Yoshihiko Yoshimitsu, a lecturer of Tokyo Imperial University and professor at Sophia University, a learned scholar on Thomism. Much was expected of him. His death in October, 1945, was a great loss. Rev. Father J. B. Noda, professor of the Major Seminary in Tokyo; Father Doumolin, S.J.; Father M. Noll, O.F.M.; Father V. Pouliot, O.P.; Father Siemes, S.J.; Father Roggendorf, S.J.; Father Herzog, S.J., etc. . . . are devoting themselves to Catholic cultural movements through lectures, conferences and by the press. Newly converted Professor K. Ko Kufu, of Ritsumel- University of Kyoto-is very active in giving public lectures in various universities and colleges on Catholicism. He” is a born linguist and a great scholar of Greek and mediaeval philosophy.

As for the economic doctrine of St. Thomas Aquinas, Fr. Laures, S.J.; Fr. Herzog, S.J.; Dr. Manji lijima and Professor Shinjiri Yokibe, of the Kobe University of Commerce, are famous. Dr. Akira Ozawa, Professor at the Kyushu Imperial University, who is a scholar on International Law, is also active in the study of the economic theory of St. Thomas.

It is especially noteworthy that Sophia University, at the request of, the Holy See, began compiling a great Catholic Dictionary several years ago. Professors of the University, as well as international scholars of repute, have collaborated and hastened the completion of the work of compilation.

Already the Institution has issued the first two volumes, which have won commendation among scholastic circles as novel publications.

Attracting the keen attention of those in the Japanese academic field is the Catholic doctrinal system, based on the doctrines of St. Thomas Aquinas and St. Augustine, and a galaxy of some twenty Catholic professors are lecturing at Government, public and private universities and colleges in Tokyo, Kyoto, Osaka, Sendai, Kyushu, Hokkaido and other cities.

The majority of these professors have made an academic study of Catholicism and have been converted to the Catholic Church. In Tokyo, there is the Catholic Cultural Association, with Catholic professors of various Government, public and private universities and colleges as its members and Professor Tanaka as its president.

Various plans for art and music as two of the major items of the Catholic cultural movement are being carried out as Catholic activities in Japan. Playing the most active roles in Tokyo are the following organizations of three movements:

1. Established towards the end of 1928, the Catholic Arts Society held art exhibitions on seven occasions, exhibited works of art at international amity exhibitions, produced motion pictures, and held functions to announce the results of its researches.

2. Founded in the spring of 1943, the Catholic Musical Society aims at contributing its share towards the sound development of music in Japan by holding grand concerts, lectures and musical research functions. The organization, which appeals mainly to music lovers among the general public, has as its members expert musicians and Catholics connected with musical activities.

Planning the sound development of church musical culture and the promotion of friendship with various foreign countries through the study of music, the society is now active in appealing to the choirs of Tokyo and other dioceses.

3. There are diocesan associations for men of mature age and for young men; for women of mature age and for young women, all organized to promote Catholic Action; having the Tokyo and Osaka Dioceses as centres. In close co-operation with the Catholic authorities, these organizations are taking an active part in showing to advantage the ideals of Catholic Action. By far the most prominent leader in this campaign was the late Rear

Admiral Yamamoto, a devout Catholic, who passed away in 1942.

CHAPTER X

CATHOLIC RELIGIOUS HOUSES

Religious Orders and societies may be divided into three classes:

1. The Contemplative, which consecrate themselves entirely to prayer, contemplation and manual labour done in the spirit of penance.

2. The Active, devoted to works of charity, based on shorter periods of intense prayer, and done in union with Our Lord.

3. The Mixed Life, mainly devoted to the work of education, combined with and permeated by prayer.

Zeal for the Glory of God and the good of souls is the guiding star of all three classes.

Of the second and third classes we have already spoken. There still remains to tell of the part played in Japan by the Contemplative Orders.

The Trappists came to Japan in 1897, and settled at Tobetsu, in the Province of Hakodate. The Trappistines, in the same year, made a foundation at Yunokawa, also in the city of Hakodate. Engaged in a life of prayer and farming, they have done much to develop the barren land.

Lately the Trappists made a second foundation at Shindenbaru, in Fukuoka Prefecture, and the Trappistines one at Jurevji, Nishinomiya City, in the suburbs of Kobe.

The Carmelites arrived in Japan in 1934, and founded a large monastery near the Major Seminary in Tokyo, and another monastery ,in Osaka in 1947.

Of the missionaries and their coadjutors, engaged in the propagation of the Catholic Faith, the Jesuits and Dominicans attach most importance to academic studies; the Salesians are engaged in industrial development and charitable enterprises and also contribute much towards educational activities; the Franciscans excel in the virtue of poverty and in benevolence, according to the spirit of, St. Francis of Assisi, their founder.

All these institutions, by the practice of the same three vows of Poverty, Chastity and Obedience, though variously interpreted, as to details, do a great deal for the advancement of Japanese society as a whole.

Various Catholic Orders and Congregations have novitiates in their Mother Houses for the training of their young aspirants, according to the general directives of the Holy See, Japanese nationals having replaced foreign Superiors in the government of religious houses, in accordance with the adaptation measures.

It is a matter of sincere congratulation that the Seishin Aishi Kai (Daughters of the Sacred Heart), the Homonkai

(Japanese Sisters of the Visitation), and a few entirely Japanese Congregations, such as the Sisters of the Most Pure

Heart of Mary (Zunshin), of Nagasaki, Sisters of the Apostles (Hirari no Shito), founded, by Sister Nagata, Sisters of

“Caritas,” of Miyazaki, and Sisters of Saint John of Tokyo, etc., have come into existence in this country after the war.

The Missionary Sisters of St. Joseph were established in the Osaka Diocese on the Assumption day of 1948, to help the priests in their missionary apostolate. In this connection it is to be noted that many excellent vocations to the contemplative life are to be found among Japanese girls of the upper classes” a number quite remarkable in proportion to the number of Catholics in Japan.

CHAPTER XI STATISTICS According to the statistics compiled in Japan in 1948, we read as follows: Total Number of Catholics. . . . .. . . . .. . . . .. . . . .. . . . .. . . . . . 122,468 Ordinaries. . . . .. . . . .. . . . .. . . . .. . . . .. . . . .. . . . .. . . . .. . . . .. . . . .. . . . .. . . . . . . . 12 Priests

Japanese. . . . .. . . . .. . . . .. . . . .. . . . .. . . . .. . . . .. . . . .. . . . .. . . . .. . . . .. . . . . . . 167 Foreign. . . . .. . . . .. . . . .. . . . .. . . . .. . . . .. . . . .. . . . .. . . . .. . . . .. . . . .. . . . .. . . . 352 Monks

Japanese. . . . .. . . . .. . . . .. . . . .. . . . .. . . . .. . . . .. . . . .. . . . .. . . . .. . . . .. . . . . . . . 169 Foreign. . . . .. . . . .. . . . .. . . . .. . . . .. . . . .. . . . .. . . . .. . . . .. . . . .. . . . .. . . . .. . . . . 98 Nuns

Japanese. . . . .. . . . .. . . . .. . . . .. . . . .. . . . .. . . . .. . . . .. . . . .. . . . .. . . . .. . . . . 1,629 Foreign. . . . .. . . . .. . . . .. . . . .. . . . .. . . . .. . . . .. . . . .. . . . .. . . . .. . . . .. . . . . . . . 513 Seminarians—Japanese, Major. . . . .. . . . .. . . . .. . . . .. . . . .. . . . .. . . . .. . . . .. . . . .. . . . . . . . 151 Minor. . . . .. . . . .. . . . .. . . . .. . . . .. . . . .. . . . .. . . . .. . . . .. . . . .. . . . .. . . . .. . . . . 155

CHAPTER XII

POST-WAR CONDITIONS OF THE CHURCH

As a worthy Spouse of a Crucified Lord, the infant Church in Japan has had to pass through many trials, both spiritual and temporal. Liberty of preaching and of carrying out her small religious ceremonies was granted her, but she had many difficulties to encounter, both from civil authority and patriotic organizations. These were caused by measures taken to advance the prosecution of the war., Lost in the midst of non-Christian surroundings, mixing daily with those utterly out of sympathy with Catholic teaching and ideals, of which they were wholely ignorant, many of our Catholics lacked the courage to profess their faith openly. The majority of our Catholic people, living in large cities, were forced to evacuate to the country districts, far from a church and priestly ministrations, where there were no religious facilities.

On August 9, 1945, an atomic bomb destroyed two large and flourishing parishes, Urakami and Nakamachi, in Nagasaka, the centres of Catholicism in Japan. About one thousand descendants of the old Catholic families perished in the disaster.

Materially, we have suffered very heavily, especially in large cities, such as Tokyo and Osaka. In general, fully fifty per cent, of the total ecclesiastical institutions were destroyed. The following is a list of our principal losses: Fifty-one churches (the Apostolic Delegation, too, was a victim). Cathedral churches of Tokyo, Osaka and Sendai, completely destroyed; fiftyfour priests” houses, including those of the Bishops of Osaka and Sendai. The Cathedral of Nagasaki was badly damaged; sixteen secondary schools belonging to different Religious Congregations were entirely destroyed; the one and only Major Seminary in Japan was badly damaged; the wooden building of the Catholic University belonging to the German Jesuits was reduced to ashes; twenty-six convents; the buildings belonging to thirty different charitable organizations, including kindergartens, and the premises of three printing establishments were razed. This is an overwhelming blow for the Church of Japan, still so young and so poor.

Of course, we are endeavouring to do our best to face the situation by all the means at our disposal. For the present, it is impossible to rebuild definitely all the burnt churches; the lack of material and workmen and exorbitant prices prevent our doing so. We have, for the moment, to be satisfied with minimum repairs; (yen these provisory buildings will cost far more than the insurance money will cover, and our funds will soon be consumed. Before the war, many of our parishes were economically self-supporting; now many of our people are scattered, others are financially ruined, or very badly off, and we can no longer count on them to provide what is required for such repairs.

Thanks be to God, the victims of the war among our priests and nuns, were comparatively few -fifty-four priests and twenty-five Sisters. During the war, the Missionaries, Brothers and Sisters of anti-axis nationalities were interned; as were also most foreign missionaries, toward the end of the war. However, they gave a beautiful example of patience and perseverance, winning the admiration of our countrymen. It is no exaggeration to say that, at this moment Christianity has got its great chance. Intellectual circles fully realize that the thing most wanting to the Japanese is religious conviction and that the mental crisis Japan is undergoing now, can only be overcome by religious education. As a matter of fact, we observe already a widespread and promising movement towards Christianity among the educated classes. It is indeed the sacred duty of every Catholic to guide them in their spiritual concern and to lead them along the road to salvation. It is with this aim in view, that we are mobilizing our energies and means to found parishes, schools and charitable institutions and to publish Catholic papers and magazines.

Thanks to the extraordinary assistance received from the Propagation of the Faith in Rome and from foreign and Japanese benefactors, practically all churches and other ecclesiastical establishments of the Japanese Mission have been restored. Of course, these are only temporary buildings, and for the more permanent buildings we must continually make appeal for help.

Answering the plea of the Holy See and the appeal of the Bishops of Japan, many religious congregations and mission societies of both sexes have come, or are coming, to help us extend the Kingdom of Christ. Among the newlyestablished congregations of men that have arrived are-St. Columban’s Society, Congregation of Scheut Fathers, Oblates of Mary Immaculate, Redemptorists, Foreign Mission Society of Canada, Clerics of St. Viator, Fathers of Bethlehem, and Franciscan Friars of Atonement. Sisterhoods: Sisters of Presentation of Mary, Missionary Benedictine Sisters, Hospital Sisters of St. Francis, Sisters of Christ the King, Carmelites of Charity, Poor Sisters of St. Clare, Good Samaritans, and Notre Dame Sisters.

Two years ago, His Eminence Cardinal Gilroy and Bishop McCabe visited this country and realized our great need for priests. As a result of that visit, fourteen Australian priests (Diocesan) are now working in Japan, in the Dioceses of Nagasaki, Fukuoka, Osaka and Yokohama.

This year, the fourth centenary of the arrival of St. Francis Xavier in Japan, was celebrated with great solemnity. The Japanese people, Catholic and non-Catholic, the authorities, press, and radio all contributed to make the celebration a huge success. His Eminence Cardinal Gilroy, Papal Legate, led the pilgrimage, accompanied by Bishop Thomas McDonnell, National Director of the Propagation of the Faith in the United States, Bishop Ortiz from Spain, together with seventy pilgrims, representing fifteen nationalities. The holy arm of St. Francis Xavier was brought from Rome especially for the occasion. Great respect and reverence was shown towards the arm by all the Japanese people. These celebrations certainly gave great prominence to the Catholic Church and its teachings.

The construction of new churches and the restoration of old ones is going on slowly but steadily. The number of baptisms is increasing very rapidly. Of particular interest at present is the mass conversion of whole villages in the country. Previously, practically all our energies were concentrated in the cities.

About six months ago, the representatives of Saga, a village in the northern part of the Osaka Diocese, asked that some priest be sent there, as they were ready to embrace the Catholic Faith. I sent a Japanese priest, Father Itakura, to them, and he found them sincere and well disposed.

So I went myself to celebrate Mass there on the 16th of March. They realized that only the Catholic Church could stem the advance of Communism; that the Catholic Faith is the only religion common to all mankind; that the Catholic religion alone can reform the daily life of the people. There are five Buddhist temples in the area. Two wives of the Buddhist priests, together with their children, arc taking instructions and hope to be baptized before long. Father Itakura and six catechists are continuously giving instructions. On the Feast of the Assumption this year, we expect 1500 baptisms in Saga alone. Practically the entire population of 3000 is expected to be baptized before the end of the year. Five other villages are ready to follow this example, and are asking for instructions. This is possibly the beginning of the mass conversion of Japan. The Grace of God seems to be at work among our people. I recommend these people to your fervent prayers. “The harvest is great, the workers few.”

APPENDIX

Permit me to add a few lines about the Diocese of Osaka and the Apostolic Prefecture of Shikoku under my jurisdiction. According to recent statistics, there are about ten million non-Christians in my diocese of Osaka, and three and a half million in the Prefecture of Shikoku; while the Catholics of the Osaka Diocese number about ten thousand and those of Shikoku only six hundred. These two ecclesiastical divisions have faced perhaps the most terrible trials among the dioceses of Japan during the war. In the Diocese of Osaka, out of twenty churches, eight were burnt, including the Cathedral Church; nine priests” houses, including the Bishop’s residence, an historic building; six auditoria, two convents and two large Catholic schools, with buildings annexed. The Cathedral of Osaka, founded in 1878, was one of the most beautiful and historic in Japan, so full of memories of Bishop Petitjean, the first VicarApostolic of Japan, and of Bishop Laucaigne, his auxiliary. In fact, Bishop Laucaigne was buried in the Cathedral. The Bishop’s House stood on the precincts of the Cathedral, it, too, was full of memories of former Bishops of Osaka back to Bishop Midon, first Bishop of Osaka.

The burnt Tamatsukuri Church was the centre of one of the most flourishing parishes in Japan, and was considered the centre of the young men’s Catholic Action movement.

The ruined Church of Nakayamate, in Kobe, which was also destroyed, was a solid building with a steel frame; indeed, a beautiful Gothic church, which did service for the foreign Catholics of this international port.

Both the burned Church and the priest’s house at Amagasaki were of recent construction.

The Church of Maizuru had to be pulled down, during the war, by order of the Japanese authorities, on the assumption that the site was necessary for purposes of defence.

The Apostolic Prefecture of Shikoku lost six churches and six priests” houses, with its annexed ecclesiastical buildings and one large Catholic High School for girls. This is a fatal blow to a prefecture as small as Shikoku.

What I have written regarding the dispersal of the Christians in the country and of the difficulties regarding the restoration of the churches, is to be applied in the case of the Osaka Diocese and Shikoku Prefecture. We can expect nothing from these people, even for repairs and the provisory arrangement of the churches and ecclesiastical establishments and for the maintenance of the parishes and their priests. I dare, therefore, to appeal to the generosity and benevolence of foreign Catholics, asking them to help us in whatever way possible to patronize the great work of Christianizing Japan.

Nihil Obstat:

D. P. Murphy,

Censor Deputatus.

Imprimatur:

@ D. Mannix,

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis. 10 December, 1949

********

The Catholic Faith

A COURSE OF INSTRUCTION FOR CONVERTS

INDEX

I

SALVATION-FAITH

RELIGION means man’s relationship with God. It therefore concerns God and the individual. God made man and made him for a purpose. Whatever an intelligent being makes, he makes for a special purpose. A watch, a chair, an engine, each is made for a special purpose. Why then was man made? He was made to know, love and serve God in this life and to be happy with Him for ever in the next. No aim short of this could satisfy the desires of man.

God made man of body and soul and He made him to His own image. That image is in the soul. God is a spirit so is the soul. It is difficult to conceive what is spiritual. It will help us if we take the example of a thought. A person says: “I have a thought in my mind.” That thought is a reality, but it cannot be picked out of the mind like a nerve. It cannot be seen or touched; it is spiritual and is the product of the spiritual soul. Like God, the soul is immortal. During life it is the soul that enables us to see, to hear, to feel, to think, to remember, to reflect. When we die the soul leaves the body and the body becomes lifeless, but the soul itself does not die: it lives on and on for ever.

In God there are three persons, yet God is one. In the one, indivisible soul there are three faculties -the memory, the will, and the understanding. Since the soul is the seat of reason and the superior part of man, it is the more important part of man, hence we must take more care of the soul than of the body. Our Lord says: “What does it profit a man if he gain the whole world and suffer the loss of his soul?” Since God made us and made us that we might save our souls, it is most important to enquire how the salvation of the soul is to be accomplished. It is accomplished by the exercise of Faith, Hope, and Charity.

Faith, using the word in a general sense, means believing certain things on the word of another. Human faith means believing certain things on the word of a fellow-man. Divine faith, with which we are here concerned,, means believing certain truths on the word of God. It is not uncommon to hear the remark: “I am not going to believe anything I cannot see for myself.” A little thought will prove the remark a foolish one. Most of the knowledge possessed by any individual is knowledge based on human faith. How do we know that Julius Caesar, lived, that the Battle of Waterloo was fought, that there is such a place as China, and that the food we had this morning was not poisoned? We know it on the word of others, for since we were not alive when Julius Caesar lived, and have never been to China, and did not see all the details of the cooking of our breakfast, our only means of getting the knowledge we now have on all these matters is the testimony of others.

We know that men can deceive us; they may be mistaken in their knowledge and they are capable of distorting truth in communicating it. But God can neither deceive nor be deceived. If God tells me something I am bound to believe it, whether I understand it or not, for not to believe it is to doubt or question God’s knowledge or God’s truthfulness. The great question then for us is: “Has God made known to us certain truths?” He most certainly has done so. He Himself became a man and was called Jesus Christ and came on earth to teach a certain body of truths which we call Christianity.

He came to give us one complete religion -which is His own religion, the religion of Christ. That religion is made up of certain definite doctrines. To alter or add to or take from these doctrines would be to have a religion which was not the religion of Jesus Christ.

But Jesus Christ came to give His religion to all men to the end of time. It was to be a world-wide and an age-long religion. Yet He lived 1900 years ago and died at the age of thirty-three. How did He arrange that all men to the end of time should have an opportunity of knowing that religion? He called round Him certain men, whom He formed into a Society; that Society we call the Church, and the men who composed it were called Apostles or messengers. Our Lord formed that Society or Church for one special purpose-namely, to deliver the message of His religion to men to the end of time. “Go,” He said to it, “teach all nations. Preach the Gospel (that is, My religion) to every creature.” That society must last as long as the work for which it was made has to be done. It must, therefore, last as long as there is a nation to be taught, as long as there is a human being left in the world. That society we call the Catholic Church.

If the Church was to do efficiently the work for which it was made, it was necessary that it should be preserved from error in delivering the message which Our Lord gave it to deliver. Supposing a mistake had been made in the first century and two doctrines had been distorted in the second and three in the third, is it not clear that the religion of the fourth century would not be Christianity at all? Besides, Our Lord said to His Church: “Go, teach all nations. . . . He that believeth (i.e., what you teach) shall be saved. He that believeth not (i.e., what you teach) shall be condemned.” A just God could not condemn a man for not ‘believing a teaching body if he thought that body capable of erring and deceiving. For the sake, therefore, of the faith of the believer, and for the sake of the purity and integrity of the Christian religion itself, it was necessary that God should preserve His Church from error in handing on His religion. That preservation from error we call infallibility.

Because the Church is infallible she commands our belief, for we can only believe for certain a Church which we know for certain cannot make a mistake in teaching us. Because she is infallible the body of doctrines which make up the religion which Christ gave to the world are preserved in their purity and entirety. A Catholic can say: “I believe this truth, or that because the Church teaches it as a truth revealed by Christ,” and in this he is reasonable, for he is first convinced by the right use of his reason that Jesus Christ established His Church to teach us His religion and made her worthy of credence; in other words, made her infallible. Besides, it is as easy to believe that the Church is infallible as that a book is inspired.

How does the Church teach? There are many ways which a teacher can adopt for the purpose of conveying knowledge. The, Church has actually adopted two ways-namely, the oral method and the written. She has taught by word of mouth and by writing. The oral method we call tradition; the writing of the Church we call the Scriptures.

Our Lord gave no direction to the Church to write. He said: “Go preach the Gospel,” and for the first thirty years of her existence the Church made use of the oral method only. Circumstances gave rise to her use of writing, or the Scriptures, in teaching Christ’s religion. Whether we consider the Gospels or the Epistles we shall find that they were written for a special occasion, or people-e.g., to explain the difficulties of the Romans or the Corinthians. They were the Church’s letters dealing with particular doctrines, prevalent evils, dangers to be avoided, virtues to be cultivated, and were never intended to be a complete treatise on Christianity. No one knows the true meaning of a letter so well as the person who wrote it; in fact, he alone can solve a doubt as to the precise import of a particular sentence of it. Because the Scriptures are the product of the Church, she alone is the authoritative and reliable interpreter of them.

Sometimes it is said that the Catholic Church is afraid of the Scriptures and that she does not allow her people to read them. Nothing could be further from the truth. Without the Catholic Church there would have been no Scriptures. Was it not she who wrote them? Was it not she who determined which of the many early Christian writings should be, and be called, the Scriptures? Was it not she who declared that they were the inspired word of God? And was it not she who preserved them? The printing press was not invented until the fifteenth century. Who was it that wrote, with hand, copies of the Holy Bible during the first fourteen centuries of the Christian era? It was the monks of the Catholic Church. The fact that we have the Bible today and that long before the Reformation the Scriptures could be seen everywhere throughout the Church, is due to their incessant labours.

Not only is it not true that Catholics may not read the Scripture, but they are actually encouraged to read them and special privileges are granted to those who read them. A perusal of introductory letters written by Popes to our Bible will dissipate the idea that Catholics may not read the Bible. The Bible was not written in English. The English Bible is a translation: it is even a translation of a translation. It is for the Church, which is the guardian of Christian truth, to see that the translation is a correct one, therefore she desires her people to read an approved and sanctioned version of the Holy Scriptures.

II

THE CHURCH

The teaching of the Church is chiefly to be found in the Apostles’ Creed. In the Christian religion there are mysteries. A mystery is a revealed truth which we cannot understand. Life is full of mysteries. What is clear to a man may be a mystery to a boy. What is easily understood by a very clever man may be a mystery to one not so gifted. What is a mystery to the ablest man would be fully understood by an angel. Who knows the actual nature of electricity? Who understands the process by which the tiny acorn becomes the mighty oak? Who understands the intricate mental and physical mechanism by which a man decides to go far a walk and move his limbs in a certain way to a certain place and at a given time elects to stop?

What incomprehensible intricacy of mind and will, of choice and command, of communication to nerves and muscles involved in any deliberate physical action! If there are mysteries connected with this life we must expect them much more to be connected with the next. When a thick fog comes down on the city like a great pall we walk gropingly through its streets and are unable to see even such prominent buildings as its town hall or its cathedral. But the fact that we cannot see these buildings does not mean that they are not in existence: it simply means that our eyes are not strong enough to penetrate through the mist. So, too, the fact that we do not understand how a certain doctrine made known to us by God is true merely means that our finite mind is not powerful enough to penetrate to the depths of that doctrine.

One of the greatest mysteries is the Blessed Trinity. It means that there is one God, but that in that one God there are three persons: God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Ghost. Each is God. Each has the nature of God. Each is a Person, yet there is only one God.

Before time God alone existed. There was no earth, no world, no angel, no man, no creature of any kind, no material thing. He made animals, He made man. He made man for Himself, for eternal happiness, and endowed his soul with wondrous beauty, the beauty of sanctifying grace. But before giving man eternal happiness, God put him on his trial. His trial was one of obedience. Man failed in the trial, he disobeyed, and by disobeying he offended God and lost his right to heaven. God took pity on fallen man and promised a Redeemer-one who should atone to God for the offence committed against Him by man and win back for man his lost right to heaven. That Redeemer was to be Himself a man, for it was man who had sinned. He must also be God, for only a God could fully appease God.

In due time the Redeemer came. He was the second person of the Blessed Trinity made man. His name was Jesus Christ. He was born on Christmas Day in the Stable of Bethlehem. His mother was Mary. He had no earthly father. He was conceived by the Holy Ghost. St. Joseph was His foster-father or guardian. That child who lay in the manger was really a human being, but as really was He God. He had two natures, human and divine, but one person, the Person of God, so that whatever He said or did it would be true to say that God said it, God did it. That child grew to be a boy and lived at Nazareth. He became a man and at the age of thirty began His public life, the work of preaching His religion. At the age of thirty-three He died. He was crucified on Good Friday at the desire of the Jews. He died because He willed it and by His death He wrought our salvation.

When He died His soul left His body and went to Limbo, a place of rest where the souls of those who had died in the friendship of God remained till heaven should be opened for them by the Redeemer. His body was buried in a tomb, but on Easter Day His Soul was re-united to the body, which was now a spiritualized, glorified body, and Our Lord rose from the dead. For forty days He remained on earth, perfecting His work and the machinery of His Church, and on Ascension Day He went up into heaven, whence He shall come again to judge the living and the dead.

Before His Ascension He had made the framework of His Church. It was as in the beginning when God first made the body of man and then breathed into it a living soul, so on Whit Sunday the Holy Spirit came into the Church as its living soul to remain with it for ever. When we speak of the infallibility of the Church, we must remember that it is the Holy Spirit in the Church that is the source of its infallibility. The Church is His mouthpiece, speaking His truth, and is preserved by Him from error. When Saul had been persecuting the Church he was mercifully confronted by Jesus Christ, who said to him: “Saul, why persecutest thou Me?” Saul had not persecuted Christ in person; he had persecuted Christ’s Church. Our Lord identified Himself with the Church: it is His mystic body, of which the Holy Spirit is the soul, therefore He said of it: “Who heareth you heareth Me.”

There is no doubt that Christ founded a Church, that that Church is an infallible teacher, that she is now in existence, and that there is and only can be one such Church. How can we find her? Since she is so important in her mission and work and was established for the salvation of men, it must be easy to find her. She is described as a “city built on a hill,” which all can see without difficulty. There are certain marks, of which Our Lord tells us, by which the Church can be easily discovered.

First, the True Church, the Church of Christ, is One. Not only is there only one Church, but that Church has unity. Reason itself tells us there can be only one Church founded by God. God could not contradict Himself. He could not be the founder of warring sects. There are in England today over 200 religions, or churches, all at variance with one another. One teaches that there is only one Person in God, another that there are three. One teaches that there are seven Sacraments, another that there are only two. These contradictory teachings cannot come from the God of truth. Only one Church can be true, and that one Church must itself have Unity. Our Lord on the night before He suffered prayed for this Unity: that His Apostles and all who through them should believe in Him might be one “as the Father and I are One, that the world may know that Thou hast sent Me.” The Unity of the Church was to be like the unity of the Persons of the Trinity, and this Unity was the mark by which the world could recognize the divine mission of Christ.

Where is that unity -unity in doctrine, unity in worship, unity in government-to be found? Only in the Catholic Church. Wherever we go throughout the world, whatever be the language spoken there, or the condition of the people who live there, we shall find the same Catholic doctrines taught and believed, the same Sacrifice of the Mass as the people’s worship, the same spiritual government of the See of Rome, the successor of St. Peter, to whom Our Lord committed the government of the Church. “Thou art Peter and upon this Rock I will build My Church. I will give to thee the keys of the Kingdom of Heaven (which is the name given in the Scriptures to the Church). Feed My lambs. Feed My sheep.” The Unity of the Catholic Church is undeniable; it is miraculous and could only be accounted for by the fact that the Catholic Church is the Church of God.

Another mark of the True Church is that implied by Our Lord when He said to His Church: “Go teach all nations, preach the Gospel to every creature.” There was to be one Church for all nations., One Gospel for every creature, taught by the one Society He founded for that purpose. In other words, the Church was to be universal or Catholic, not one church for one country and another kind of church for another, each contradicting the other; no, one Catholic Church.

What Church is universal? What Church is recognized and acknowledged to be universal or Catholic? Is it not the Church which is ever and everywhere called Catholic? In every country she is to be found, and there is no country that is Christian today which did not originally receive its Christianity from the Catholic Church. St. Augustine, the Apostle of England, was a Benedictine monk, sent from Rome by St. Gregory. St. Patrick, Apostle of Ireland, was sent from Rome by Pope Celestine. It was the Catholic Church that first introduced Christianity into America, and there is no country in Europe that does not acknowledge an Apostle who owed allegiance to Rome as the Messenger of its Faith.

Another mark of the True Church is Apostolicity. The True Church is that Church which can be traced back to the Apostles. Go back through the centuries, back to the first age of Christianity, and you will find in the pages of history the unmistakable Catholic Church, with her Pope and her Mass and her saints. She comes down to us in unbroken continuity of doctrine, worship and spiritual rule from the days of the Apostles. This can be said of none other.

The truths committed by Christ to His Church can never be added to, taken from, or corrupted, but they can be developed and grow in clearness. When a particular doctrine is denied or questioned, the Church declares that that doctrine is part of the revelation entrusted to her by God. Such a declaration is called a definition. A definition does not then mean the addition of a new doctrine, but the emphatic assertion that the doctrine defined has always been the object of Catholic belief. The Immaculate Conception and Papal Infallibility are examples of defined doctrines.

Sanctity is also a mark of the True Church. The Church of God is surely a Church that teaches holy doctrines and gives to her members the means of holiness and actually produces saints. The Catholic Church has ever taught holy doctrines, has ever held up a high standard of morality; gives abundant means and ample opportunities of grace, and numbers among her children hundreds of saints. A saint is not merely a good man or woman. A saint is a hero in virtue. Where outside the Church could we find a St. Clare, a St. Teresa, a St. Francis of Assisi, a St. Vincent de Paul?

If the Catholic Church is the True Church, the one Church of Jesus Christ, it follows that all are bound to belong to it. God must wish all to be members of His True Church. To say otherwise would be to imply that God is indifferent to truth, that He does not care whether we believe what is true or what is false and consequently that He does not care, whether We say what is true or what is false. Such a conclusion would not only be subversive of all social morality, but would lead to a denial of the very existence of God. Besides, if God wishes all men to be saved and made the Church as the great and effective instrument of salvation-”as the Father sent Me, I also send you”-it follows that He must wish all to place themselves in a position to take advantage of the Church’s mission.

What, then, are we to say of the fate of those who are not Catholics? Does the Church teach that they cannot be saved? Certainly not. Either a non-Catholic knows that the Catholic Church is the True Church or he does not know. If he does not know, he will never be condemned because he was not a Catholic. If he does know, he either realizes that he has a grave obligation to be a member of the Catholic Church, or he does not. If he does not realize that he is under such a grave obligation he will not be condemned. If he does realize that he is under a grave obligation to become a Catholic, and refuses to do so, he is living in grievous sin, and should he die in that state without repentance he would be condemned. It is possible for anyone to save his soul if he acts according to the light that God gives him.

ARISING OUT OF THE FACT THAT THERE IS ONLY ONE TRUE CHURCH IS THE EXPLANATION OF THE ATTITUDE OF CATHOLICS TOWARDS THE WORSHIP OF NON- CATHOLICS. THE REASON FOR THAT TTITUDE WILL BE SEEN FURTHER ON.

When we say that a church is false we do not mean that it does not teach certain true doctrines. At one time the only religion of England was the Catholic religion. At the command of Henry VIII, an immoral ruler, and Queen Elizabeth, his daughter, a command carried out by persecution and death, another religion was established in the land which retained some of the old Catholic truths, but renounced a great part of the teaching of Our Lord committed to the Catholic Church-e.g., the Mass, prayers to the saints, purgatory and the primacy of St. Peter. As a Church, that new religion was not the True Church of Christ.

III

SIN-SAINTS

Sin is an offence against God. It is an act of disobedience against God. It is a breaking of the Commandments of God. The soul has a twofold life-the natural life, which it can never lose, and the supernatural life. The supernatural life of the soul is the life of God in the soul, the life Our Lord so often ,referred to: “I am the life.” “I am come that you may have life.” When we are in God’s grace or friendship, God dwells in the soul and He becomes a super-added life of the soul.

Some sins, St. John tells us, are unto death. Some sins are not unto death. The more grievous sins are sins unto death, or mortal sins. They are so called because they deprive the soul of its supernatural life; they drive God out of the soul; and since life eternal is the continuation and glorious development of that life of the soul, it follows that they who die in that condition of soul, when it is not in possession of supernatural life, cannot enter the Kingdom of Heaven. St. Paul gives a list of some of these mortal sins: murder, drunkenness, adultery, etc. “They who do such things,” he tells us, “shall not enter into the Kingdom of Heaven.” There are sins that are small in comparison with mortal sins, such as impatience, a small theft, a simple lie, slight anger. These are called venial sins, and though they are offensive to God and cause estrangement from God, they do not drive God out of the soul: they do not deprive the soul of its supernatural life.

Death will come to all. After death judgment. The moment the soul leaves the body it is judged by Jesus Christ. It is then in one of three states: either entirely free from sin, or stained with venial sin, or stained with mortal sin. If entirely free from sin and there is no debt of atonement due because of past forgiven sin, the Judge will send that soul to heaven. If there is mortal sin on the soul, the sentence is: “Depart from Me, you accursed, into everlasting fire prepared for the devil and his angels.” What of the soul that is slightly stained? Heaven cannot now be its portion, for nothing defiled can enter heaven, nor can hell, for that soul has not broken with God. Where then is the place for that soul? Purgatory. Purgatory is a place or state of punishment where such a soul will suffer for a time, and when it is purified it will enter heaven. Heaven and hell are eternal. Purgatory is only for a time.

If sin is repented of it will be forgiven. For when our sin has been forgiven we have not necessarily finished with it. Our law courts and prisons remind us that certain satisfaction or atonement should be made for sin forgiven. Our first parents sinned: they repented, they were forgiven. Yet they had to suffer for years afterwards because of their sin. Moses sinned, he repented and was forgiven, yet because of his sin he was deprived of the privilege of entering the Promised Land. David sinned, he repented; God sent him the Prophet Nathan to convey to him the message of forgiveness, but the prophet also told him of the temporal punishment of his sin: “Your son shall die.” Some, by their penances and trials, make full satisfaction for all their sins in this life. Some do not. These latter are not relieved of the obligation of justice; it has to be fulfilled in the life to come. Where? In purgatory. Two classes of souls, then, go to purgatory: those who die in venial sin and those who have not fully atoned for mortal sin which has been forgiven.

The Catholic Church was made by Our Lord to continue His work. “As the Father sent Me, I also send you.” She was given, therefore; the power and means to do that work, the work of salvation. “Whatsoever thou shalt loose on earth,” He said to her, “shall be loosed also in heaven.” Only two things can keep a soul out of heaven-sin and unaccomplished atonement. Over these the Church has power. As we shall see later, she has power over sin. She has also power over atonement. She has at her disposal the merits of Our Lord, the merits of His suffering. She has also in her keeping the unused merits of her saints. In order to attract her children to prayer or to works of charity for the good of their souls, she sometimes relieves them of the work of personal atonement, to which they are obliged because of past sin for which by God’s grace they have repented. The sin is no longer on their souls, but the duty of personal atonement remains. The Church on occasions relieves them of this duty because of some special good work and acts of piety, and to fulfil justice puts in place of their own personal efforts the merits of Jesus Christ and of His saints. This relief, granted by the Church, we call an Indulgence, or pardon. An Indulgence always presupposes that the soul is free from sin. If it is only a partial remission of atonement it is called a Partial Indulgence, if a full remission it is called a Plenary Indulgence.

The Church is divided into three parts: the Church on earth, which we call the Church Militant, the Church in purgatory, which we call the Church Suffering, and the Church in heaven, which we call the Church Triumphant. These three communicate one with another. We on earth can help the souls in purgatory by our prayers. The saints in heaven can help us by their prayers. This intercommunication we call the Communion or Saints.

Some there are who wonder why Catholics pray to the saints; they even think that it is not right to pray to the saints. A little reflection will show that it is a most reasonable practice.

Are we not told in the Scriptures to pray for one another, and that the prayer of the just man availeth much? Did not St. Paul ask those to whom he wrote to pray for him? If you were to ask a certain man now living in your town to pray for you, you would be acting according to the counsel of the Scriptures and the practice of the Apostles. If that man were a saint and died tomorrow, he would go straight to heaven. Why, if it was right to pray for him yesterday, is it wrong today? How could his change of position affect the morality or wisdom of your actions? Why should his power be less in heaven than when he was on earth? Surely it would be greater. He is now confirmed in grace, and close to God. You must not say that when he lived in your town he could hear you, whereas now he cannot hear you. What is more intimate or secret in man than the act of repentance by which at a certain moment his condition changes from a state of sin to a state in which God goes to dwell in his soul? Yet even that change, that no one on this earth could see, is known to the angels and saints of God, as we learn from God Himself. When we ask the saints to pray for us we ask them to do precisely what we ask any living friend of ours to do when we say: “Pray for me.” We want those dear to God to back up our petitions and to join their voices with our own in asking God for the favour or grace He alone can give.

Of all the saints, there is none to whom we pray more than to Mary, the Mother of Jesus, simply because she is His Mother. Just as at the Cana marriage feast, Mary, seeing the difficulty of her hosts, said to her Son: “They have no wine,” and He converted water into wine in answer to her prayers, so we tell her of our needs and troubles and beg her to lay them before her Son.

We not only pray to the saints, we also honour them. We are told in the Scriptures to “honour all men.” There are. some to whom we are told special honour is due. “Honour the king.” “Honour thy father and thy mother.” What is the principle that regulates honour so that we give to some more than to others? The same kind of honour is given to all, the difference is in degree. The principle is this: the more of God or godliness there is in a person the more honour is due to him. Our parents are God’s instruments and take God’s place with regard to their children. The king is the instrument of God’s rule with regard to his subjects. Hence the special honour to parents and rulers. Sanctity is another name for godliness Or union with God or the life of God in the soul. The greater the sanctity the closer the union with God and the more intimate the life of God in the soul. Hence the high degree of honour given to a saint and the extremely high degree of honour given to Mary, to whom God said, through Gabriel: “Hail, full of grace, the Lord is with thee.” She was so closely united with God that He and she lived for many months a common life. Hence the Angel Gabriel honoured her, and St. Elizabeth, inspired by the Holy Spirit, honoured her, saying: “Whence is this to me that the Mother of my Lord should come to me,” and Mary herself, inspired, said: “He that is mighty hath done great things to me. Behold, all generations shall call me blessed.” In reality, in honouring Mary and the saints we are honouring God, for we are honouring them for their godliness, for the great things He has done in them.

We call Mary the Mother of God because she was the Mother of Jesus Christ, and Jesus Christ is God. When we speak of relationship we take persons into account, not natures. We say Mrs. Smith is the mother of John Smith, though she only gave him his body; his soul was created by God. She is the mother of that person called John Smith. We know that Mary did not give Jesus Christ his Godhead. He was always God. Jesus Christ has two natures, human and divine, but one person, the person of God. Mary was the mother of that Person Jesus Christ and He was God.

IV

HOPE

Hope is a trust in God that He will give us heaven and the means to attain it if we keep His Commandments. God is Almighty and can save us; He is all-good and therefore desires to save us. He is faithful to His promises and has promised to save us. “If thou wilt enter into life, keep My Commandments.”

The way of the Commandments is the way of heaven. The only test of our love for God is the keeping of His Commandments.

Each Commandment enjoins certain obligations and forbids certain sins. Sin can be committed by thought, word, deed, or omission. To commit sin we must know that the particular thought, word, deed, or omission is a sin and it must be done deliberately. An evil thought is only a sin when it is deliberately harboured and consented to.

The first Commandment enjoins the worship of God. A Catholic may not take part in non-Catholic worship. This is not bigotry, it is principle and truth. Catholics believe that there is and can be only one Truth Church. That one True Church is the Catholic Church. This being so, they necessarily believe that all other churches are not true. Many of the doctrines taught by other churches are true, but as churches, each claiming to be the church of Christ, they are false. To take part in the worship of a church which one believes to be false is to approve outwardly of what we inwardly believe not to be true. It is therefore acting a lie.

One of the chief sins forbidden by the first Commandment is idolatry, which means giving to any creature the honour due to God alone. This sin is committed a great deal in pagan countries, where a statue is looked upon as a god and worshipped as a god.

What is to be said of the honour given to statues and pictures in the Catholic Church? It is perfectly reasonable, as the following considerations will show: when a great statesman, ruler, soldier or benefactor dies, how, generally speaking, is his memory perpetuated? A statue of him is erected. Such statues can be seen in the squares and parks of all our large towns and cities. The greatest Benefactor the world has ever known was Jesus Christ. The noblest Queen that ever lived was His Mother. The truest heroes of any country or age are the saints of God. How natural and reasonable then to erect statues of Our Lord, Mary, and the saints.

We know well that a statue is a lifeless thing and can neither see, nor hear, nor help us. But just as we honour the image or portrait of a parent, or a friend, so we honour the images of Christ and His saints. Who has not seen a mother kissing the portrait of her child? Her attitude towards that portrait is exactly the attitude of Catholics to sacred statues and pictures, and the honour which she showed it is the honour they show to statues. In reality, it is not shown to the statue at all, but to the person represented by the statue. The principle is the same when displeasure or dishonour is shown to an effigy-it is really intended for the person whom the effigy represents. Besides, statues and pictures bring home to us better than words can do certain truths and facts. No description could give so vivid a notion of the death of Our Lord as is given by a crucifix. Again, a crucifix, or statue, or picture, helps us in prayer to fix our minds on God. For this reason Catholics commonly pray before statues, but never to them.

The second Commandment obliges us to reverence for God and the name of God and all things sacred. Reverence is like a fence round a cornfield. Break down the fence and trespassers will soon ruin the corn. Take away reverence and in time all other virtues will suffer in the soul. The sins against this Commandment are cursing, swearing, blasphemy. Cursing means the expression of an evil wish to one’s neighbour. Swearing or taking an oath means calling God to witness the truth of what we say. It is lawful to take an oath when our own good, or our neighbour’s good, requires it. To take a false oath is the grievous sin of perjury. Blasphemy is irreverent reference to or abuse of God, His saints, or His religion.

The third Commandment is peculiar in its wording: Remember thou keep holy the Sabbath Day, as if to say: Whatever else you may forget, do not forget to keep God’s Day Holy. In the New Law the day to be kept holy is Sunday, the day on which Our Lord rose from the dead and the Holy Ghost came down on the Apostles. Every Catholic is bound to go to Mass on Sunday unless prevented by some serious cause. In order to be able to keep Sunday holy we must rest from work. All unnecessary servile or bodily work is forbidden. Recreation and works of the mind when kept within reasonable limits are not forbidden, nor is necessary work of any kind forbidden.

The fourth Commandment obliges us to love, honour, and obey our parents and to give reverence and obedience to our lawful superiors. Any neglect of this duty is sinful.

The fifth Commandment is “Thou shalt not kill.” Apart from the taking of life in lawful war and in capital punishment as meted out by the State, murder is a grave and terrible sin. We may not even take our own life. It was given us by God and only God may take it away from us. Whatever tends to murder is wrong: all quarrelling, fighting, hatred, anger, and revenge.

The sixth Commandment is: “Thou shalt not commit adultery.” It obliges us to self-control, to watchfulness over our senses, particularly the eyes, for they are the windows of the soul. Impure thoughts which we wilfully indulge and deliberately consent to, unchaste desires, which we deliberately entertain, the speaking of impure words, the reading of sensual books, the deliberate and pleasurable gazing at impure sights or pictures-all that is sinful. Sinful also are all impure acts, which are doubly so when they involve another. Purity is one of the most beautiful of all virtues, one of the most necessary in society and one of the most essential for a spiritual life. “Blessed are the clean of heart, for they shall see God.”

The seventh Commandment is concerned with the virtue of justice. “Thou shalt not steal.” It is unlawful to take against his will what belongs to another, or to injure him in his property. Nor can the sin be forgiven unless the stolen property is restored and the injury made good if it is the power of the person who has committed the injustice to make restitution. Even if it is not in his power now he must sincerely intend to make restitution when he is able to do so.

The eighth Commandment is concerned with truthfulness. “‘Thou shalt not bear false witness against thy neighbour.” A lie is always sinful. A lie that involves serious consequences is gravely sinful. A lie that injures a neighbour’s character is called the sin of calumny. It implies an injustice and restitution must be made of the good name that has been taken away. Another sin against the eighth Commandment is detraction, which means revealing the secret faults-of another.

The ninth Commandment is: “Thou shalt not covet thy neighbour’s wife.” The tenth is: “Thou shalt not covet thy neighbour’s goods.”

Besides the Commandments of God, there are the precepts of the Church, which particularize and specify obligations placed on us by God. For example, God says to us: “Remember thou keep holy the Sabbath Day.” The Church tells us how to keep it holy, God tells us that “Unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink His blood you shall not have life in you.” The Church informs us how often we are bound to receive Holy Communion.

We are obliged to hear Mass on Sundays and Holidays of Obligation. This is a serious duty, from which only a serious reason can dispense us. Such serious reasons would be distance, health, necessary occupations. All Catholics are so conscious of this duty and attach to it so great importance that it would be a cruel injustice to make it unnecessarily difficult or impossible for them to perform it.

Every Catholic is bound to go to Holy Communion at least once a year, within a specified period. That is the minimum. A good, earnest Catholic will receive Communion at least once a month. Many are weekly communicants. A large number communicate even daily.

The work of our Catholic parishes is done entirely with funds contributed by the people. The building, repairs, and upkeep of our churches, presbyteries, and schools, the support of our clergy, the expenses in connection with worship, the lighting, heating, and cleaning of our churches, all is done by the people, who regard it as a duty to contribute to this purpose. Without their contribution the work of the Church could not be done. It is therefore one of the Church’s precepts that the people should contribute to the working of their parishes.

The teaching of Our Lord, His own practice and the practice of His disciples make clear the obligation of fasting. The Church, in one of her precepts, directs her children when to fulfil that obligation. “Jesus was led by the Spirit into the desert, and when He had fasted forty days and forty nights, afterwards He was hungry.” (Matt. iv, 1, 2.) “Jesus said to them: this kind (of devil) is not cast out but by prayer and fasting.” (Matt., xiii, 19, 20.) “They were ministering to the Lord and fasting.” (Acts, xiii.) By fasting we help reason to control the lower appetites; we make satisfaction for sin and we make ourselves more like Jesus Christ. “If any one will be My disciple let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow Me.” The Church’s precept regards fasting and abstinence. Fasting restricts the amount of food, abstinence the kind of food eaten. They who fast have on the fast day one full meal and two very small meals. Fasting days are the days of Lent, Ember days, and certain Vigils. All are bound to fast from the age of twenty- one to fiftynine. Abstinence means not having flesh meat. Abstinence days are the Fridays of the year, unless a Holyday of Obligation. All Catholics who have come to the use of reason are bound to abstinence. It sometimes happens that for reasons of health or work it is difficult or unwise to fast. When such is the case a dispensation should be sought.

V

(A) PRAYER. (B) THE SACRAMENTS

Charity is the love of God, because He is infinitely good, and the love of our neighbour for God’s sake. Charity is shown by out observance of God’s laws. Left to ourselves we could not keep God’s Commandments. We need God’s help or grace. This grace comes to us through certain channels. These channels are prayer and the Sacraments.

Prayer is the raising up of the soul to God. It is asking God for the graces we need, thanking God for the graces we have received, praising God for His goodness and perfection. Without prayer it is practically impossible to lead a good life. With prayer-regular, fervent prayer-we shall find it easy to save our souls. “Ask and you shall receive.” Prayer must be humble, trusting and persevering. When it has these qualities and God sees that what we ask for would be good for our souls, our prayer will certainly be heard.

It is well that we should pray morning and night. Many go to rest at night and die before morning; but God has given us another day of life. Besides, each day brings its own dangers and difficulties. It is wise and fitting, then, that we should begin each morning with thanks to God and with earnest petition for His grace and protection during the day. Night comes and we find we have been guilty of many infidelities and even sins; it is well that before we retire to sleep we should express our sorrow and ask God’s forgiveness for our offences. In temptation, also, whenever it comes, we ought to beg God for the strength to overcome it.

The Sacraments. The Sacraments are instruments of grace made by Jesus Christ Himself. We are made of body and soul and are affected by what appeals to the senses, therefore, Our Lord chose signs which the senses can perceive, and made those signs actual instruments of grace. If He had not made them the actual channels of His power they would have remained signs and nothing more. But He has made them signs of inward grace, which grace they actually produce in the soul. There are seven Sacraments, each corresponding to a great spiritual need in man.

Baptism is the first of the Sacraments. When our first parents lost the beautifying grace of God, it was also lost to their descendants. The absence of that grace causes a stain in the soul which we call Original Sin. All the children of Adam are marked with that stain. The one exception is Mary. Because she was chosen by God to be His Mother He beatified her soul with His grace in the first moment of her existence: That privilege we call the Immaculate Conception. Baptism removes the stain of Original Sin and dowers the soul with sanctifying grace. It is the entrance gate to the Church and makes the recipient capable of receiving the other Sacraments. Baptism is a new birth, a supernatural birth, by which we become the children of God. It leaves a mark on the soul, a mark of a Child of God.

Baptism is necessary for salvation. “Unless a man be born again of water and the spirit he cannot enter the Kingdom of Heaven.” Hence the necessity of the Baptism of children. Baptism can be validly administered by anyone who has the proper intention and who uses the correct form. He pours water on the child and at the same time says: “I baptize thee in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost.” A priest is the ordinary minister of Baptism. The child should have at least one godparent, preferably two. Since godparents make themselves, responsible for the Catholic upbringing of their godchild in case the parents neglect their duty, it follows that they should be Catholics. The child should be given a Christian name, the name of one of God’s saints.

Besides the Sacrament of Baptism there is Baptism of Desire, also called Baptism of the Holy Ghost. It is an act of perfect contrition and of perfect charity. There is a third kind of Baptism called Baptism of Blood, by which one who has not received the Sacrament dies for the Christian Faith. The soul can be saved by either of these Baptisms, though Baptism of Desire does not dispense with the obligation of receiving the Sacrament of Baptism when opportunity arises. Whoever desires to do what God wishes him to do according to his knowledge has Baptism of Desire and can save his soul.

Confirmation is a Sacrament which makes us strong and perfect Christians. It increases sanctifying grace in the soul and strengthens our faith. It also leaves a mark on the soul, the mark of a soldier of Christ. It is administered by a Bishop, who imposes hands on the person who is being confirmed, and anoints his forehead with chrism, saying: “I sign thee with the sign of the Cross and I confirm thee with the chrism of salvation, in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost.”

The Holy Eucharist is called the Blessed Sacrament. It is Jesus Christ Himself under the appearance of bread and wine. Let us remember that when we speak of Jesus Christ we speak of God, Who, being almighty, could change bread and wine into His body and blood. He made the universe out of nothing, He changed water into wine at the marriage feast of Cana. He gave us the physical mechanism by which bread and other food are changed into the tissue of our bodies.

He is all-truthful. If He says He does a certain thing He does it. If He tells us that Holy Communion is His body and blood it is so. We can also recall’ that He fed 4000 people with a few loaves and fishes and thus showed His power over nature. His body is a glorified body, which proved itself not to be subject to the laws of nature when He rose from and left the tomb, though a great stone covered it, and when He entered the room where His disciples were gathered together, though the doors were shut. The doctrine of the Church is that Jesus Christ, body and blood, soul and divinity, is really and truly present in the blessed Sacrament under the appearances of bread and wine, and that His presence is brought about by Transubstantiation, which means that the substance of bread is changed into the substance of Our Lord’s body and that substance of wine into His blood, the appearances of bread and wine remaining.

Sometimes the example of a bar of iron is used to illustrate substance and appearances. The bar of iron has size, weight, colour, and hardness, yet none of these makes it iron, for heat can alter its size, gravity, and weight; heat can also change its colour from brown to red and even white, and can make its hardness soft and even liquid. What then makes it iron? Its substance, which is its one unchanging element, invisible and intangible, yet supporting its accidents of colour, shape and weight.

We might therefore describe Our Lord’s presence in the Blessed Sacrament as being like the soul’s presence in the body, wholly present in each part. Though the substance of bread is changed directly into Our Lord’s Body, yet since Our Lord Himself is not divided, where His Body is there also must be His soul and divinity; therefore we receive Him whole and entire under the appearance of bread or under the appearance of wine.

How do we know that Our Lord is really present in the Blessed Sacrament? He Himself has clearly told us. “The bread that I will give is My flesh for the life of the world.” (St. John, vi, 5.) No one was in a better position to know what He meant than His audience who understood His language and heard every inflection of His voice and saw His every gesture. They certainly understood Him to mean that the true body and blood would be present, for they said: “How can this man give us His flesh to eat?” What was His reply? Did He say: “You have misunderstood Me, I am not going to give you My real bodily self in this Sacrament. I am going to give you merely bread and wine.” No, He said: “Amen, Amen, I say to you (which is like saying ‘I swear to you’) unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink His blood, you shall not have life in you.” And when they further said: “This is a hard saying and who can bear it,” and when they “went away and walked no more with Him,” He did not say: “You must not leave Me, there is nothing difficult to understand in My teaching.” Far from it. He turned to His disciples and said: “Will you also go away?” That is to say: “1 will let even My Apostles leave Me rather than change and explain away the mystery of My love, My real and substantial presence in the Holy Eucharist.” And Peter answered, saying: “To whom shall we go; Thou hast the words of eternal life.” (St. John, vi, 54–70.)

That was the promise. The fulfilment came about the night before He died, when more than any other time He would speak His mind unmistakably in simple words which even the poor, uneducated Apostles could not fail to understand. Taking bread into His hands, He “blessed and broke and gave to His disciples, and said, ‘Take ye and eat. This is My Body.’ And taking the chalice, He gave thanks and gave to them, saying, ‘Drink ye all of this, for this is the Blood of the New Testament, which shall be shed for many unto the remission of sins. Do this for the Commemoration of Me.’” (Luke, xxii, 20.) “For as often as you shall eat this Bread and drink the Chalice you shall show forth the death of the Lord until He come.” (I. Cor., xi, 26.)

His plain words expressed a plain truth. His real presence, St. Paul tells us this was the belief of the Church. “The chalice of benediction which we bless, is it not the communion of the blood of Christ? And the bread which we break, is it not the partaking of the body of the Lord? Whosoever shall eat this bread or drink the chalice of the Lord unworthily shall be guilty of the body and blood of the Lord.” Why? Because “they do not discern the body of the Lord.” (I. Cor., xi, 26, 27.)

The Fathers of the Church, even the earliest of them, like St. Ignatius (117), St. Justin (157), St. Irenaeus (205), are clear in their statements of the Real Presence in the Blessed Sacrament. “The Eucharist is the flesh of Our Saviour Jesus Christ.” (St. Ignatius Ep. ad Emyr., p. 7). “Wine and bread are by the word of God changed into the Eucharist, which is the Body and Blood of Christ.” (Irenaeus adv Hones. V. 2, 2.)

Visit the Roman Catacombs and you will see evidence of Catholic belief on the walls there, the basket of bread and wine changed into the fish, which represents Christ. It was the unquestioned belief of the whole Christian world till the sixteenth century, except for a slight ripple of doubt which disturbed for a little while, in the eleventh century, the calm, untroubled surface of belief.

The Holy Eucharist is a Sacrament. It is also a Sacrifice. “I have received of the Lord that which also I delivered unto you that the Lord Jesus the same night in which He was betrayed took bread and, giving thanks, broke, and said: “Take ye and eat: this is My Body that shall be delivered for you; this do for a commemoration of Me.’ In like manner, also the chalice, after He had supped, saying: ‘This chalice is the New Testament in My Blood. This do ye, as often as you shall drink for a commemoration of Me. For as often as you shall eat the bread and drink the chalice you shall show forth the death of the Lord till He come.” (I. Cor., xi, 23, 26.)

Here is the description of a rite which was a Sacrifice. Christ spoke of His body, which shall be delivered -i.e., put to death for you, a death that was represented by the separate consecration of the bread and wine. Christ Himself was the Victim and Christ Himself was the Priest of this Sacrifice. It represented the Sacrifice of the Cross that was to take place. The Mass is the selfsame Sacrifice, in which Christ is priest and victim, but it represents the sacrifice of the Cross that has taken place. The Mass is the continuation or perpetuation of the sacrifice of the Cross. It is not a second sacrifice, it is the one sacrifice continued. Christ shed His blood and died once for all, and once for all paid the price of our redemption. The Mass is the self-same Sacrifice with the same Priest and the same Victim, but without the shedding of blood, and through it redemption is applied to individual souls. “Do this for a commemoration of Me?” He said to His Apostles and their successors. The ordained Priest partakes of the priesthood of Christ that he might represent the great High Priest in offering up, through the power of His priesthood, the Sacrifice of the Mass.

The Mass is divided into three principal parts: the Offertory, the Consecration, and the Communion. At the Offertory the priest offers to God the bread and wine as the matter of the Sacrifice. At the Consecration he pronounces the words of Our Lord: “This is My Body” over the bread, “This is My Blood” over the wine, and by virtue of the power conveyed by these words the bread and wine are changed into the Body and Blood of Christ. At the Communion the priest receives Holy Communion and after him those of the people who wish to communicate.

The Mass is said throughout the West in the Latin language. In the East it is said in Greek and in Syro-Chaldaic. Would it not be better, someone might ask, that Mass should be said in English? No. The Mass is something done rather than something said. It is not merely a prayer, it is a sacrifice. Were I to say to another: “I now make you a gift of one hundred pounds,” it would not matter to him in what language I spoke, though the languages in which Mass is said are, in fact, better for their purpose than modern languages, for they are unchanging and, therefore, we have no doubt what a doctrine expressed in Latin nineteen hundred years ago really was: the meaning of the words then is their meaning today.

Besides, the Catholic Church is not a local or national Church. It is universal; we who are members of it belong to a world-wide family, who all have the same act of worship, the Mass. Whether we visit France, Germany, Spain, or Italy, we feel perfectly at home when we go to church on Sunday morning, for we assist at the same Mass with which we are familiar at home and it is said in the same language. Again, just as our churches differ in appearance from other buildings and are edifices specially planned and built for the worship of God, it is meet that there should be a language of worship which takes us away more completely from the everyday mundane things of life. Mass was first said in the great languages of the time by priests who were clad in the garments of the time. But though new languages later sprang up and fashions in dress changed, yet the languages first spoken and the vestments first worn for the Holy Sacrifice were consecrated to it for ever.

The Blessed Eucharist is a Sacrifice and Sacrament. As a Sacrament it is the food of the soul: it is Holy Communion. A Catholic who is solicitous for his soul receives Holy Communion frequently, at least once a month, very probably once a week, perhaps daily. For the worthy reception of Holy Communion a twofold preparation is necessary- preparation of the body and preparation of the soul. Preparation of the body consists in fasting from midnight from all food and drink. Even the smallest quantity of food or drink, if swallowed after midnight, would be a bar to the reception of Holy Communion that day. An exception is made in the case of serious illness.

The preparation of the soul consists in freedom from mortal sin. Anyone conscious of mortal sin could not, while in that state, worthily receive Holy Communion. How can one who is in mortal sin secure freedom from it and so prepare for the reception of Holy Communion? By having recourse to the Sacrament of Penance, or, as is commonly said, by going to Confession.

VI

THE SACRAMENTS (CONTINUED)

(A) CONFESSION

Sin is an offence against God, therefore the power to forgive sin can only come from God. God can exercise that power through others. The State has power over life and death, as in the case of execution or a just war. But the State can delegate, and does delegate, this power to others. The judge as an ordinary man has no power to sentence to death. As a judge he wields the power of the State, can say to the condemned man: “I sentence you to death.” Jesus Christ was God as well as man. He became man to redeem us from sin. His whole life and death were concerned with sin. No one who had grievously sinned could be saved unless his sin was first forgiven. The forgiveness must come from God; but how? Our Lord made. the Church to continue His work. “As the Father sent Me, I also send you.” The Church’s work must necessarily be concerned with the forgiveness of sin.

The evening after the Resurrection, Christ appeared to the Apostles and said to them: “Peace be to you. As the Father hath sent Me I also send you.” When He had said this He breathed on them and said to them: “Receive ye the Holy Ghost. Whose sins you shall forgive they are forgiven, whose sins you shall retain they are retained.” (John, xx, 22, 23.)

The God Who had the power to forgive sin made His Apostles the instruments of that power. He deputed them to exercise that power. Can a priest then forgive sin? Certainly, but not by any power natural to himself, but by a power given to him by God for that purpose. God makes the priest a judge of the sinner. He has power to loose or to retain, to absolve or not to absolve. This is not a power to be used arbitrarily. He must absolve when the penitent’s dispositions are good, when, that is, he is sorry for his sins and is determined to avoid the occasions of his sins and not to sin again. How could the priest be sure of the presence of such dispositions unless he knew the sins? He must know that the drunkard will either give up intoxicating drink altogether or will avoid the persons and places that are a temptation to him. The dishonest must promise restitution. The impure must avoid the companion or the book that is the secret of their fall. How could the confessor make sure of all this unless he knew of the drunkenness and the theft and the impurity?

Whoever knows that Our Lord instituted the Sacrament of Penance need not attempt to trace the origin of confession to priests and attribute to them, as a reason for its introduction, a desire on their part to gain an undue influence over the people. If Confession originated with the priests, when did it? It would surely be of such worldwide importance that history would be bound to record it. Yet there is no record. On the contrary, we find the practice of Confession back through the centuries. We find it in the East and the West. Within a hundred years of the death of Our Lord, the Montanists were driven out of the Church because they held that the power of forgiveness in the Sacrament of Penance did not extend to certain very grievous sins. Origen, only two hundred years after the death of Our Lord, said: “The layman who falls into sin cannot by himself wash it away. . . . He needs the priest; yes, at times he even goes to one greater than the priests, he needs even the Bishop’s help that he may obtain forgiveness of his sin.” (In Numeros, Hom. X.)

Besides, it is sometimes forgotten that the priest himself not only hears confession, which is very laborious work, but goes to Confession, and, being a human being, would scarcely have placed a heavy burden on his own shoulders without necessity. As for undue influence, how is it possible since no priest can ever under any circumstance break the seal of Confession or disclose any sin told him in Confession, no matter how small the sin; nor he be in any way influenced in his relations to others by anything told him in Confession.

It has been said that Confession has a deteriorating influence. That is not so. No one can speak with knowledge of Confession except Catholics, who practise it. Every Catholic knows that Confession is helpful, uplifting, purifying. Is it not a natural desire, when a secret trouble weighs down the soul, to open one’s heart to another? The practical difficulty always is this: whom can I tell of my great burden of grief? A friend who can keep a secret and give effective sympathy is hard to find outside the confessional: There is no secrecy in the world like the secrecy of the confessor. There is no one with help and guidance such as he could give. Sin confessed means a load lifted, the heart lightened, the spirit brightened.

But again we hear that Confession must be an objectionable institution since a Catholic can say: “I will commit this sin because I can afterwards confess it.” Confession is therefore an incentive to sin, or at least it makes sinning easy. People who make this assertion lose sight of the fact that confession is not the most important part of the Sacrament of Penance. Contrition or sorrow is the most important part. It is possible to obtain forgiveness of sins without Confession, but it is not possible without contrition or sorrow. Every Catholic knows this and knows that the sorrow must be genuine-sorrow for having endangered the salvation of the soul, sorrow for having offended God, who died on the Cross for love of us, sorrow for having sinned against the good God who is infinite in all perfections. Such sorrow implies the resolve never to sin again.

The penitent is bound to confess all mortal sins not yet confessed. He confesses his own sins, not the sins of others. The confessor is concerned with that person’s soul only, not with the interests or business of others. The Confession should be short and with no detail except what is necessary to explain the nature and gravity of the sins confessed. The penitent receives a penance which has sacramental value as satisfaction for sin and which is generally a prayer.

I need hardly say that Confession should be seriously prepared for, first, by examination of conscience, which consists in a diligent effort to recall our sins to mind; secondly, by praying for sorrow for our sins and meditating on the greatness and goodness of God, on His Passion and Death, on the fearful consequences of sin, and on our personal risk of losing our souls because of our sins.

When sorrow or contrition is perfect it brings about the forgiveness of sin even without Confession, though the Confession of grievous sin so forgiven should be made if and when the opportunity offers. Contrition is perfect when based on the love of God, when, that is, we are sorry for our sins not only because they deserve punishment and have endangered our salvation, but chiefly because they have offended an infinitely good and perfect God.

(B) EXTREME UNCTION

When Catholics are dangerously ill they receive the Sacrament called Extreme Unction. Our Lord has provided helps for every stage of life and for all life’s great responsibilities. Help is particularly needed when we are about to die. This Sacrament is administered by a priest. It increases grace in the soul, it remits sin, it brings consolation to the sick person and sometimes it helps to bring about bodily recovery.

As all sins comes through the senses, they are anointed. When the priest anoints the eyes, he says: “Through this Holy Chrism and His own most tender mercy, may the Lord pardon thee whatever sins thou has committed through the sense of sight.” Similarly he anoints the ears, nostrils, hands and feet, a change in the final words being made to correspond to the particular sense. We know from St. James that this Sacrament was received by the faithful in his day as it is today. “Is anyone sick among you? Let him bring in the priests of the Church and let them pray over him, anointing him with oil in the name of the Lord. And the prayer of faith will save the sick man and the Lord shall raise him up and if he be in sins they shall be forgiven him.” (James v, 14, 15.)

Besides receiving Extreme Unction, the sick person also receives Holy Communion which, when given to the sick, is called Viaticum, or food for the journey. Catholics attach supreme importance to the reception of the Last Sacraments (as these two Sacraments are called). It is therefore a great act of charity to send for a priest when a Catholic is dangerously ill.

(C) HOLY ORDERS

Holy Orders is a Sacrament by which the gift of the Holy Ghost is so given to a man that, he can validly perform the sacred duties of deacon, priest or Bishop. It leaves a sacramental character, a mark on the soul.

The priest receives the power of forgiving sins and offering the Sacrifice of the Mass. The Bishop has the power of conferring Holy Orders and giving Confirmation. He has the fullness of the priesthood and through the power of Bishops the priesthood is continued in the Church.

(D) MATRIMONY

Matrimony is a Sacrament that enables husband and wife to live happily together and to bring up their children in the love and fear of God.

Matrimony is a Sacrament instituted by Jesus Christ. “The husband is the head of the wife as Christ is the Head of the Church. Husbands love your wives as Christ also loved the Church and delivered Himself up for it that He might sanctify it.” (Eph., v, 23,24.) St. Paul tells us that the union of husband and wife is an image of the union of Christ and His Church. Therefore it is a sacred union, a union by which grace is conferred on the souls of both. It has ever been regarded as a Sacrament by the Church. One of the pictures in the Catacombs represents Our Lord blessing the union of a man and a woman, thus showing the belief that the union was a Sacrament.

Since it is one of the seven Sacraments instituted by Our Lord, it is the mission and the duty of the Church to safeguard it and to lay down the conditions for its validity. Marriage is a contract and it is for the Church to prescribe what is necessary that it should be validly and lawfully executed. In this manner the Church legislates only for her own children. A mixed marriage may not take place without a dispensation, which can only be given by the Bishop for grave reasons. It is true of a mixed marriage, as of marriages in which both contracting parties are Catholics, that to be valid it must take place in the presence of an authorized priest and two witnesses. Otherwise, it is not valid in the eyes of God. A marriage is legally valid provided the conditions laid down by the State are complied with; but it is clear that a marriage might be legally valid but invalid in the eyes of God and therefore no Sacrament.

The main purpose of the union of husband and wife is to bring children into the world. Birth prevention is a grievous sin. It is bad physically and morally for those who practise it. It is bad for the nation and is in fact a sign of national decadence; it is opposed to nature and therefore condemned by the conscience, even if there was no law of religion to enlighten it. There is indeed such a law, for birth-prevention was forbidden by the old Jewish Law as it is by the Church today.

Marriage is indissoluble. Divorce is contrary to the Christian Law. Whom God hath joined together let no man put asunder. No man validly married may contract a marriage with another woman while his wife is living. No woman validly married may contract a marriage with another man while her husband is living. Such a contract would be null and void.

The parents are bound to give their children a Catholic education. Religion is a necessary part of true education. The only religion which a Catholic recognizes and believes is the Catholic religion. That a mixed marriage may take place, the non-Catholic must sign a promise to bring up all the children of the marriage in the Catholic Faith. This promise implies the obligation to give them a Catholic education.

(E) SACRAMENTALS

Besides Sacraments, there are Sacramentals, which are indeed signs but do not produce grace. They excite in us certain dispositions to acquire grace. Holy Water is such a sacramental. Blessed Ashes remind us that we must one day die. Blessed Palms remind us that the glory of the world is fleeting.

(f) Devotions.

Devotions are the outward dress of our religion, they are the expression of our piety. Some favour one devotion, some another. One of the devotions most commonly practised by Catholics is the Rosary. In the Rosary, while our lips move in prayer and our hands are feeling the beads, our minds are fixed now on one scene, now on another of Our Lord’s life: these scenes exciting fresh interests and stimulating our trust and hope and love. The beads used enable us to say the fixed number of prayers that make up the Rosary, and to separate scene from scene, mystery from mystery.

Another very popular devotion is the Stations of the Cross. By this devotion we meditate, with the help of pictures which can be seen in all our churches, on the successive stages of Our Lord’s Passion.

The wearing of the Scapular is also a devotional practice which it is well to explain. As we saw above, we are members one of another, we can help one another by prayers and can share in the merits of others. In our desire to participate in their merits we can become external associates to certain religious Orders-e.g., the Carmelites, with an undertaking on our part to make our life more spiritual and prayerful. As a sign of such authorized associations we wear an official badge, which is called a scapular, after a part of the religious habit which is so named.

Nihil Obstat:

W. M. COLLINS Diocesan Censor

Imprimatur

@ D. MANNIX,

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis. 16th May, 1956

********

The Catholic Home

INDEX

DEAR PARENTS

St. Therese of the Child Jesus, called by Pope St. Pius X “the greatest saint of modern times,” wrote in one of her last letters: “The good God gave me a father and mother more worthy of Heaven than of earth.” These words are inscribed over the graves of her parents, Louis and Zelie Martin, behind the basilica of Lisieux. The Church is now considering their cause for canonization. It is clear from this example what a tremendous influence can be given to children in a truly Catholic home. At the source of the greatness of St. Therese is the conjugal union of two wholehearted Christians. Cardinal Mercier said: “How glad I am to know that she is the recompense of an exemplary family. We must never weary of repeating that everywhere.” Yes, dear friends, there is no doubt that upon the way you raise your children will depend the way they will spiritually grow up. I will try during this conference to talk about the Catholic home.

Where to start? I think we should first put before our mind our ultimate goal: Heaven. The whole world, as you know, was created for the glory of God: the stars, the mountains, the trees and the birds. We too have been created for the glory of God, but we do not glorify God and find true happiness unless we become saints. After all, a saint is just someone who has died in the state of grace and has finished to expiate his sins in Purgatory and is now in Heaven. Your children are given to you as a sacred trust and you will have to render an account for their immortal souls. Catholic parents, you must absolutely realise that the last end of man is supernatural. We are all called to eternal beatitude, to seeing God face to face in Heaven. The ultimate goal of Christian education will therefore be to secure for our children this tremendous reward. Everything else (health, money, success etc.) does not really matter. This is why Queen Blanche de Castille could tell her son, the future king St. Louis of France: “My son, I would prefer to see you dead at my feet than to know that you were in the state of mortal sin.” When we think about it, is not eternal damnation the only real evil? Let us therefore look at our family as a Catholic should look at it, ie. in the light of the theological virtue of Faith.

Now that we have set before our eyes the ultimate goal of Christian education, we can better understand the importance of a truly Catholic atmosphere in our homes. The home has always been something sacred, even in pagan times. The Greek poet Homer wrote a whole book about the story of Odysseus coming home. The Romans also considered the hearth a holy place. They had invented all kinds of domestic divinities to guard the different members of the family at every stage of childhood, adolescence and maturity. For every act of home life there was a special mythological deity to be invoked. But of course the institution of the family was completely supernaturalized only with the Incarnation, when God Himself chose to have parents on earth.

Jesus is truly the son of Mary since she gave Him His human nature. Joseph is the husband of Mary and therefore by virtue of his marriage he has a certain paternity over Our Lord. Jesus is indeed born from the Holy Ghost of the immaculate flesh of Our Lady over which Joseph had true dominion. Since their marriage was especially ordained by Divine Providence to receive and bring up the child, Jesus is the fruit of the holy union of Mary and Joseph, not as born of it but in it.

So we have a father, a mother and a child. The Holy Family is the perfect ideal for all Christians. Dear parents, look at Nazareth. See the beauty of this home where everything was centred on God. Jesus, Mary and Joseph are giving us a model of Catholic family life. When we contemplate their virtues of humility, obedience and charity, we understand the secret of the peaceful joy we see in their hearts.

It is always striking to see in the lives of the saints the role of their parents in the first years of childhood. One only has to read the life of Mrs Sarto, the mother of St. Pius X or of Mamma Margherita, mother of St. John Bosco to understand this. Children do not first receive their religious formation from books or priests, but from living the life of a Catholic home. The parents are the main channels for the first (and the most important) transmission of Christian spirituality to these young souls. A little child will grasp the first notions about God in very simple ways: He will understand the goodness of God when he sees the love of his mother, always kind and patient. He will understand the providence of God when he sees the concern of his father, earning money to put bread on the table etc.

The example of the parents is so important, not only for young children but especially for teenagers, since these are inclined to question authority. If you want your children to practise obedience, then do not quarrel in front of them. If you want them to learn charity, do not gossip about your neighbours. If you want them to love to pray, then be yourselves men and women of prayer. St. Therese said of her father during night prayer: “1 had only to look at him to know how the saints pray.” When I was a teenager I remember once walking into my father’s bedroom and seeing him kneeling at the foot of his bed. This sight helped me tremendously to persevere in my Catholic Faith.

We must stress that not only the example of the parents but everything in the home exerts an influence, good or bad, on the soul of the child. Just as our bodies are influenced by the material atmosphere in which we live-by its heat and cold, by the germs or dust which it may hold-in the same way our souls are influenced by the spiritual atmosphere in which we live by its Catholic standards or its non-Catholic standards. And we are now reaching the crux of the matter. It is a sad truth that some parents do not have this Catholic atmosphere in their home. On the contrary, the spirit of the world is allowed to prevail for the spiritual ruin of the members of the family. In reality these homes only bear the name of Catholic but do not have the inner substance which would them make truly Catholic. For instance, you walk in the children’s bedrooms and you see indecent posters of movie stars, instead of the crucifix and pictures of the saints. The children play with ugly monsters instead of with beautiful toys. The conversations are distasteful etc. Parents who deliberately neglect their duty of providing a Catholic atmosphere in their home are seriously failing in their vocation.

Dear friends, there is no doubt that if everything in the home is organized in conformity with the teachings of the Church, everyone will be greatly helped to live in the state of grace. On the contrary, if in the home are found worldly influences or occasions of sin, it will be difficult for everyone to secure their eternal salvation. However we must point out that in spite of a Catholic atmosphere in the home, some children stray from the path of virtue. Accidents sometimes happen. But in this case the parents are not responsible and in no way to be blamed for the spiritual loss of the child. They have done their best to raise him as a Catholic. Also there are many homes where it is very difficult to establish a Catholic atmosphere, in spite of much good will, especially when one of the parents is not a Catholic. This is a painful situation and would need a separate conference to deal with this subject. The Catholic wife is certainly hindered in her desire to sanctify her home by the fact that her husband will disagree and often refuse to co-operate with her policies. In this conference we are dealing with a family where both parents are Catholic. (We must note that with prudence, tact and gentleness, it is still possible to achieve much even within a mixed marriage). But now that we have introduced the topic of the conference, I am sure you are now anxious to hear in what exactly consists this Catholic spirit which must penetrate the family.

In the beginning of this century, a South-American priest, Father Mateo, started a world-wide crusade which was extremely successful. He received the blessing of Pope St Plus X who even asked him to devote his life to this crusade. Our Lord had told St. Margaret Mary at Paray le Monial: “I will bless every home in which the image of My Sacred Heart shall be exposed and honoured.” Fr. Mateo started a crusade to re-establish the social reign of Jesus Christ throughout the whole world. He had understood that to Christianize society, we must first Christianize the family. This zealous priest strove to conquer souls to the Sacred Heart through the Enthronement of the King of Love in the homes. You already know about this beautiful Catholic devotion and many of your families received the visit of the priest for this purpose. Well, it seems that we have here the answer to the question: When is a Catholic atmosphere established in a home? When everything is submitted to the reign of Our Lord, True God and True Man. And I mean everything, not only our prayers but even our recreations, our meals, our clothes, our conversations etc. The Enthronement is not the simple blessing of a picture and a reading of an act of the consecration. It is the beginning of a new life, a life of love for the Sacred Heart. Nothing in the home should displease Him. Jesus is the King of the family and must be honoured as such.

So we see that all these are connected: Social reign of the Sacred Heart -Catholic atmosphere in the home- Sanctity of its members and their eternal salvation-Glory of the Most Blessed Trinity. Jesus is the Mediator between God and men, the Head of the Mystical Body. As the beautiful books of Dom Marmion explain, we are the adopted children of God through Jesus Christ. St. Paul tells us: “Be ye followers of God, as most dear children; and walk in love, as Christ also hath loved us. For you were before darkness, but now light in the Lord. Walk ye as children of the light, for the fruit of the light is in all goodness, and justice, and truth.” The Godless world around us is plunged in a terrible darkness. Catholic families must be like little oases of light, where true Christian love is practised, where Jesus can take refuge from His enemies. It seems that one of the first notions we have to clarify in speaking of the Catholic atmosphere is the notion of love. Maria Von Trapp wrote in the preface to the story of her family: “While writing down the memories of a family, it astonished, amazed, almost overwhelmed me to see how much love-genuine, real love- was stored in one short lifetime: first, God’s love for us, His children, the leading, guiding, protecting love of a Father and as every real love calls forth love in return, it couldn’t be any different here.” The Catholic home must therefore be permeated by supernatural charity. But it is very important to grasp what true love is, since it has often been misunderstood in modern times.

St. Thomas Aquinas gives us the definition of love: “To love is to wish the good of the beloved.” And he means what is truly good for the person, which is not always what the person would like to have. An example will illustrate this truth: A mother gives some medicine to her sick child to cure him. The child does not want the medicine since it tastes bitter. The mother will actually force the child to drink the medicine since she loves him and wants him to be restored to health. The same thing is true in the education of children. Too many parents have a false conception of love. Out of weakness, they do not discipline their children, they do not correct their defects, they give in to their caprices. It is a tragic mistake. In the long run, this kind of education will turn out little monsters of selfishness, used to “getting their way” in everything at home. True love is strong. Parents should also realize that they are dealing with natures wounded by original sin. Children all have evil inclinations to laziness, disobedience, unkindness etc. And these must be firmly checked even from a very young age. Otherwise you will spoil your children. It is awful to see some parents allowing their children to indulge every whim and fancy. Others seem to be afraid of exercising their authority and yield to their little ones as soon as they throw a tantrum. In these kinds of homes, children are the ones in control. They do what they want. They help themselves in the refrigerator without permission. They do not have to clean their bedrooms or help Mum and Dad around the house. They have no table manners, no politeness, no respect for adults. I think that it is the worst thing you could do to a child: to let him grow up without self-restraint. Parents who are not disciplining their children certainly do not have a true love for them.

Let us now pass on to another subject: Family prayer. It is clear that every individual has the obligation to pray. We must all lift up our souls to God to adore Him, to give Him thanks, to make reparation for our sins and to ask graces for our needs. These are the four purposes of prayer.

God made us. He is our Creator. So we should recognize His Sovereignty through prayer. But God also made the family. Therefore the family should, under its own roof, openly pray to God. Let us imagine a family where everyone is saying individual prayers in their own rooms. Well this is not enough. All the family members should pray together as a social unit. St. Thomas More, a great model for Catholic husbands and fathers, was a wonderful example in this regard. Even when he was suffering from the King’s determination to divorce his lawful wife Catherine of Aragon, he always called all the members of his household for their daily prayers. There was a lot of headache, especially when his wife Dame Alice did not understand his refusal to take the oath of supremacy. If St. Thomas More had not prayed daily with his loved ones, no doubt he would not have had the courage he needed to die a martyr. This brave Catholic understood the need of family prayer. Our Lord told us: “Where two or three are gathered together for my sake, there I am in the midst of them.” Parents, pray the Rosary with your children. It was one of Our Lady’s most pressing requests at Fatima. Let us obey our good Mother.

Catechism is extremely important and alas, it is sorely neglected in many families. I think that parents have been used in the past to depend on Catholic schools for the religious instruction of their children. Now that we have very few good schools available, it is up to the mothers to teach the Faith to their children. And you should start when they are very young. Fr Kelly has a good summary of the different stages in the development of the spiritual life of the little ones:- “In your child’s first year, you can sprinkle his bed with holy water and sign him with the Sign of the Cross. By the middle of his second year, he can learn to sing little hymns and to recognize pictures of Baby Jesus. In his third year, you can teach him that God made the universe and help him to see the Creator in flowers, birds, and other living things.

When your child is four, he is old enough to attend Mass with you and to sit quietly. When he sees you pray, he will understand that people go to church because God is nearer to people there than elsewhere. He may learn prayers which he will say throughout his lifetime—prayers at bedtime, the Lord’s Prayer, the Hail Mary. In his fifth year he can begin to say morning and evening prayers as a regular procedure. Now he can be taught the difference between moral right and wrong-for example, he can understand why he should not steal. In his sixth year, before he attends elementary school, he should be able to make the Sign of the Cross and to bless himself with holy water. He will do these things as a matter of course if he sees you doing them.”

When your child is able to memorize questions and answers, then you should follow a good Catechism textbook to prepare him for his first Holy Communion. And then you can continue with more advanced material, It is a great mistake to stop religious instruction when children are still young. We need to continue to give them strong convictions so that they may be able to stand firm in their teenage years.

Beside Family prayers (Morning and Evening prayers, Angelus, Grace before and after meals) and Catechism, there are many ways of helping your children to know, love and serve God. Make the most of all the religious events like first communions, baptisms, Name days (feast of the saint after whom the child has been named) etc. Of course the liturgy affords the greatest opportunity for bringing religion into the home. It helps so much when the children can see that the feasts of the Church are an essential part of family life. Each family should develop its own little customs and practices. I do not have the time to deal adequately with this aspect, but there are many good books, pamphlets and magazines on the subject. They will explain to you about the Advent wreath, the Christmas manger, the Lenten chart, the Easter eggs etc. Dom Gueranger, in his “Liturgical Year,” in explaining the family customs for the Epiphany, advocates a return to the “simple faith of our forefathers.” He stresses the importance of “blending the happiness of the home with the sacredness of religion.” Let us make the effort to rediscover these beautiful traditions. The Church has inspired in Catholic countries a wonderful treasure of hymns, songs, cooking recipes, stories and games to celebrate feast days. I know of no better way of getting children to love their Faith. They can see that the Church is a good mother and desires the happiness of her children.

Now I would like to point out an error frequent among Traditional Catholics. It is the neglect of the natural order. St. Thomas teaches that “grace does not remove nature but perfects it.” It means that parents have the duty not only to develop the supernatural virtues (faith, hope, charity, infused moral virtues) but also to develop the natural virtues (politeness, honesty, courage) in the souls of their children. In particular I would like to stress the importance of the formation of the intellect. It is certain that the seeds of the interior life will grow better in a naturally wholesome mind. Some examples will make this principle quite clear. How can you expect your teenagers to appreciate the divine poetry of the liturgy (like the beautiful prayer of the Exsultet sung during the Easter Vigil) when they were never used to the nursery rhymes and simple children’s verses when they were little children? How can you expect them to enjoy Gregorian chant if they never sang the simplest folk songs when they were younger? How can they read the lives of the saints and enjoy them when they did not read in the first place, good books like “Treasure Island” and all the children’s classics? Charles Peguy, a great Catholic writer, used to say: “Between culture and faith, there is in no way opposition, but on the contrary profound acquaintance.” In other words, Christian Culture refines the sensibility of the soul and creates an atmosphere conducive to the blossoming of the spiritual life.

Once again, if you read the story of the family of St. Therese, you will see how the Martin parents were concerned about the education of their children: stories, poems, songs etc. They were often playing with their children, taking an interest in their games. Yes, we can repeat this truth again and again: To be a Traditional Catholic is a whole life and not just going to the Latin Mass.

I must admit that parents have an extremely difficult job in our day and age since the enemies of the Church have launched a terrible assault on Catholic homes. It is a real war on the part of Satan to try to plunge into hell the souls of your children. Let us be vigilant. Alas some of you are still very lax in this domain. Since this is important, let me give you a little bit of concrete advice: First of all, throw away your TV. Or use it only to show old movies with a video cassette recorder. (And even this should be done with moderation, eg. when the weather is bad, as a special treat for a birthday, or as a reward, and not constantly). Too many parents allow their children to watch TV whenever they want, several hours a day, without any control. There is of course the danger of bad programmes (impurity, violence, worldliness, etc.) but there is also another danger, no less harmful to children.

John Senior, in his excellent book “The Restoration of Christian Culture” points out the two principal defects of TV: its radical passivity, physical and imaginative, and its distortion of reality. Besides, TV is addictive and it slowly becomes like a drug which controls the minds of people, and little by little makes them stupid, unable to think for themselves. Fr. O’Connel says it humorously: “It is beneath the dignity of a human being to sit glued to a TV hour after hour like a hypnotized rabbit.” As a priest I can tell you that on children’s summer camps you can immediately tell who is a heavy TV watcher and who is not. “TV kids” manifest signs of erratic behaviour, have difficulty in concentrating, are quickly bored when not entertained, are unable to play in a creative manner, and worst of all, show a dislike for prayer and recollection.

I do not want to make this conference too long so I will be brief concerning a couple of other points: Rock music is to be banned from your home. You have to choose: either Satan or Our Lord. We cannot be neutral. There is no inbetween. There are 2 camps, 2 armies, 2 “banners,” as St. Ignatius puts it in his “Spiritual Exercises.” Now Rock music is definitely in the devil’s camp. Read any good book dealing with the subject and I guarantee it will convince you. So be logical. I remember once staying with a traditional Catholic family. They gave me the bedroom of their 15 year old son. There was on the wall a beautiful picture of the Sacred Heart which made me happy. I glanced then at the cassettes on the desk and I was shocked to see that they were AC/DC tapes, one of them with the famous song “Hell ain’t a bad place to be.” This is a perfect example of what should not happen in a Catholic home. The same thing is true of books. The other day I was visiting a family, and I came into the room of one of the children, and on the shelves were all the “Baby-sitter’s Club” and “Sweet Valley” series (the cheap teenage romance novels). No wonder our girls become “boy-crazy” if they read only that kind of book. Dear parents. do not give rubbish to your children! It is your duty before Almighty God to surround these precious souls entrusted to your care with goodness, with truth, and with beauty. But once again, do not forget to give good example. Fathers, do not expect your sons to take an interest in good reading if they see you spending your whole week-end watching cricket or football on TV and never reading any good book! Mothers. do not expect your daughters to appreciate Catholic novels if they see you relishing silly magazines like “Woman’s Day” and “New Idea”! Let us be honest. A good rule of thumb is never to allow in our homes something Our Lord and Our Lady would not approve of.

Before concluding, I would like to mention the need for simplicity. The modern world has saturated us with false values. And so we clutter our homes with all kinds of machines, appliances and gadgets designed to make life more convenient and more pleasurable. This is not the true goal of man. We were not created and redeemed by the most precious blood of Jesus in order to worship microwave ovens and personal computers. We can use these modern devices, but with moderation, not becoming too attached to them. As St. Paul says: “They that use this world should be as if they did not use it.” Let us love little things, let us have the spirit of poverty. Often I asked myself when I saw vocations in such a family: What was the characteristic of this home? And I found out that an important element was a generous spirit of sacrifice. Children were taught to forget themselves in order to help their neighbours (eg. visit to the sick or to the poor) Parents through their life were showing that happiness consists in doing things for God, in order to please Him, So when the children grow up, and the idea of a religious vocation comes to their mind, there is no problem in accepting the idea, The essence of the vocation is the gift of oneself. In a home where generosity and sacrifice is taught instead of worldliness and enjoyment of comfort, vocations are more easily fostered.

Dear parents, do not get discouraged. Yes, to establish a Catholic home is difficult. It is a heavy responsibility, a daunting task. But it is also a beautiful vocation with its great joys and consolations. Have confidence in the Immaculate Heart of Mary. Sister Lucy of Fatima said: “The Immaculate Heart of Mary is my refuge, especially in the most difficult hours. There I am always secure. It is the heart of the best of mothers; it is always attentive and it watches over the least of its children. How this certainty encourages and strengthens me! In Her I find strength and consolation. This Immaculate Heart is the canal by which God makes the multitude of His graces gush into my soul.”

Let us consecrate our families to the loving Heart of our Heavenly Mother. Our Lady wants Her Divine Son Jesus to be known, loved and served in our homes. She will watch over us and lead us to our eternal home in Heaven. ********

The Catholic Land Movement

ITS MOTIVES

BY FATHER VINCENT MCNABB, O.P., S.T.M,

INDEX

FOREWORD

BY G. K. CHESTERTON

FATHER Vincent McNabb, who has helped innumerable individuals in innumerable ways, has helped his own generation and the whole world especially by fixing and affirming and reaffirming the view which he expresses as putting first things first. How unutterably unintellectual was the intellectualism which paraded itself so impudently in the nineteenth century can be sufficiently judged from this; that it actually tried to deny or ignore the fact that the soul and the mind come first; and that all other things, from the body to the balance at the bank, are dependent upon them. Men talked as if there could be some essential economic good, which was not only more practical, but even more primary, than the good that is recognised by the soul. It was stark staring nonsense even on the lowest or most practical plane of thought. A man hoards in his pocket; he digests with his stomach; but he is happy with his soul. And the cheap materialism of the small economists can be turned upside down by the simple operation of saying “Would you like to be well paid, tobe well fed and to be unhappy?”

It is well therefore that in this pamphlet, which Father McNabb and Commander Shove have used so lucidly to expound the fundamentals of the Catholic Land Association, its principle is primarily stated in primary or spiritual terms. It deals first with the fact that men are spiritually unhappy, which comes before the fact that they are now economically and materially unhappy; though this is quite as much of a fact.

An entirely practical proposal, that men should seek the most solid of things, which is the earth, for the most useful of things, which is food, is none the less dependent on the principle that it must not be sought in a servile or bestial or merely mechanical manner. If it were, it would not give the normal degree of human happiness, which it is the object of such an experiment to give. You can treat a man like a machine, but you cannot make him an unfeeling machine; you can treat a man as a beast, but you cannot make him a happy beast; you can treat a man as a slave, but you cannot at the same time produce out of mere food the sensation of freedom.

This pamphlet presupposes, not merely that men should live on the land, not merely that they should own the land, but that they should work it and own it with a certain status of domestic dignity and decency, without which a completely civilised man will always lose his self-respect. I was asked only today whether such a scheme (or schemes of the same kind which I have defended elsewhere) must be regarded as a purely economic scheme; or whether we did not conceal in it (sly and unscrupulous devils) certain moral and religious implications. I answered that our proposal is a purely economic proposal, in the sense that we can state in purely economic terms what it is that we propose. But we could not possibly state in purely economic terms our reason for proposing it. For that reason ultimately refers not to land but to life; not to property but to happiness; not to the body but to the soul.

This distinction, as I pointed out, is perfectly normal to any other enterprise; say, for the sake of argument, a Foreign Mission. We can state a particular provision for missionary enterprise in the most coldly and correctly economic terms; as in saying, for instance The Rev. Isaiah Bunter shall have charge of a thousand pounds. But we cannot give anybody the least idea of why we give him a thousand pounds, without explaining what religion he is preaching, and why we wish it to be preached. My interlocutor, being a very intelligent Socialist, so intelligent that he was trying to find out why he was not a Distributist, admitted the distinction at once; and also admitted that Socialism itself, though often priding itself on being reducible to purely economic terms, probably had as its real motive power certain moral ideals about comradeship or co-operation. But though he was too sensible not to see the point about the soul, it is a horrible thing to think of how many thousands of people must still be walking the world, full of that monstrous muddle-headed materialism, which supposes it to be in some way”scientific” to separate the fact of physical prosperity from the mind which can alone enjoy it-or enjoy better things. This elimination of the spirit is stupid, not only from a specially spiritual standpoint, but from the ordinary logical standpoint. It is therefore essential that these perfectly practical agricultural movements for the solution of the perfectly practical problem of food and perhaps for the averting of the perfectly practical peril of famine, should be introduced in a manner worthy of the intellect and conscience of Christian men; by the assertion of first principles, which must be moral and spiritual principles; and which are asserted in the pages that follow.

* * * *

Out of Egypt have I called my son. (Matt. ii, 15-Jer. xxx, 15)

“In any case we clearly see, and on this there is general agreement, that some opportune remedy must be found quickly for the misery and wretchedness pressing so unjustly on the majority of the working class . . .”* (Pope Leo XIII, Encyclical Rerum Novarum, A.D. 1891).

“The law therefore should favour ownership; and its policy should be to induce as many as possible of the humbler classes to become owners.

“Many excellent results will follow from this, and first of all, property will certainly become more equitably divided. For the result of civil change and revolution has been to divide society into two widely different castes. On the one side there is the Party which holds power because it holds wealth; which has in its grasp the whole of labour and trade; which manipulates for its own benefit and for its own purposes all the sources of supply and which is even represented in the Councils of the State itself.

“On the other side there is the needy and powerless multitude, broken down and suffering and ever ready for disturbance. If working people can be encouraged to look forward to obtaining a share in the Land the consequence will be that the gulf between vast wealth and sheer poverty will be bridged over, and the respective classes will be brought nearer to one another.

“A further consequence will result in the greater abundance of the fruits of the earth. Men always work harder on what belongs to them; nay, they learn to love the very soil that yields, in response to the labour of their hands, not only food to eat, but an abundance of good things for themselves and those that are dear to them. That such a spirit of willing labour would add to the produce of the earth and to the wealth of the Community is self-evident.

“And a third advantage would spring from this; men would cling to the country in which they were born; for no one would exchange their country for a foreign land if his own afforded him the means of living a decent and happy life.” (Rerum Novarum).

The challenge of these inspired words of Holy Scripture and authoritative words of a Papal Encyclical has led the Catholics of these Islands to begin a Movement out of the towns and back to the country. Not that the challenge of itself led immediately to the present Movement. There have been forty years of social wandering since Pope Leo called the need of a remedy “urgent.” When his challenge was first sounded,

“Some minds were not a little disturbed, with the result that the noble and exalted teaching of Leo XIII, quite novel to worldly ears, was looked upon with suspicion by some even among Catholics and gave offence to others. For it boldly attacked and overthrew the idols of liberalism, swept aside inveterate prejudices, and was so far and so unexpectedly in advance of its time that the slow of heart ridiculed the study of the new social philosophy and the timid feared to scale its lofty heights. Nor were there wanting those who, while professing their admiration for this message of light, regarded it as a Utopian ideal desirable rather than attainable in practice.” (Pope Pius XI, Encyclical Quadragesimo Anno, A.D. 1931).

The group of Catholics, Priests and Lay-folk, who are beginning an exodus from the famine to the possibility of ownership have, in fact, yielded to authority only as brought home by circumstances directly observable by themselves. They have been finally moved to act and to re-act not merely, or mainly, by the challenge from Rome but by the cry from the penury and sin of Glasgow, Birmingham, and London. In conviction, if not in words, they had anticipated the following words of the Holy Father:

“After modern machinery and modern industry had progressed with astonishing speed and taken possession of many newly colonised countries no less than of the ancient civilisations of the Far East, the number of the dispossessed labouring masses, whose groans mount to Heaven from these lands, increased beyond all measure. Moreover, there is the immense army of hired rural labourers, whose condition is depressed in the extreme and who

* The Pope and the People, 1929 edition, p. 134. . . . . have no hope of ever obtaining a share in the land. These, too, unless efficacious remedies be applied, will remain perpetually sunk in their present conditions.” (Quadragesimo Anno).

Let us then set down in order some of the main motives that have led these Catholics to see in obedience to the Holy Father in this particular matter not only a generally right and desirable thing for Christendom to do, but the best and most urgent thing for themselves to do here in Great Britain and at the present time.

FIRST AND PRINCIPAL MOTIVE: TO WORSHIP GOD

Like the chosen people they are minded toleave the flesh pots of Egypt, not for the “milk and honey” of the Promised Land, but that the people may go and worship God. (Ex. vi).

They wish to put first things first. Their law, or rule, like the law of the people of God, begins: I am the Lord, thy God, that brought thee out of the Land of Egypt and out of the house of bondage. Thou shall not have strange gods before Me. (Ex. XX, 2, 3.) Not only will they not worship by desire what is wrong-like Mammon-but they will not desire as a primary good what is only a secondary good. Thus they will leave the ugliness of the town, not for the beauty of the land, but for the beauty of God’s face; they will fly from the disease of the town, not for the health of the body, but for the health of the soul; they will cut the tangled complexity of town life, not for the simple life with nature, but for the quiet life with God.

SECOND GREAT MOTIVE: TO FOLLOW CHRIST

Moreover, as a greater than Moses has, by His death on the Cross, led them out of a greater bondage than that of Egypt, the God whom they worship and would follow is He whose name was written on the Cross as JESUS OF NAZARETH.

Now Jesus of Nazareth, the Word made Flesh, did not come into our midst, to show flesh and blood an example but to be its redeemer.

Man’s power of willing what he knew had always been so much less than his power of knowing what to will that what he needed most was not leadership or even example making a plain way still plainer, but redemption making his weak human will stronger.

Now what must be said of the human race in the days before the coming of Jesus must be said today. If we may believe two Popes, who have written about social matters, mankind has done wrong so effectively that social good has to be, not only stored, but restored. An evil or a mistaken past must now be redeemed at a great price. But only the weights and measures of Nazareth will give individuals and nations the ownership and sovereignty of their own souls. The modern world needs redemption; and redemption means a return to Nazareth. It is for this reason that over the lintel of every home and homestead we would build on the land might well be cut in stone:

And He went down with them and came to Nazareth and was subject to them. (Lk. ii, 5I).

THIRD MOTIVE: FAMILY LOVE

One of the most explicit motives of those who are turning their faces towards the land is the desire to restore the Catholic Family. Most of the older men and women who can themselves remember parents and grandparents, know that the modern arrangement of the world has put an end to the historic institution called HOME. Many of the younger men and women, too, realise as if by intuition that a state of things that makes race-suicide seem to be the only practical policy is only a state of chaos-if, indeed, it can be called a state.

The splendid vision of wedded love, granted by God to the heart of youth, seems but divine mockery when met by town conditions, which make the begetting of a family seem a crime against the State.

It is to the credit of our sober days that amongst the most sober fugitives from that proximate occasion of sin called “the modern town” are to be found young men and women whose heart is stirring with the self-sacrificial desires of wedlock and parenthood.

It is in these aspirants to wedded vows that poor prodigal, man, turns from the squalor of a stye and the company of swine to a home furnished and adorned with husband and wife, parent and child.

In that holy place of human love, room and need will be found for the parent, now become the grandfather or grandmother. How illorganised is a world that has no other place than an “Institution,” a Workhouse, for the wisdom of the old. But what a school of human and divine love, and therefore of wisdom that springs from love, is a Home made possible and safe by the Homestead. Modern seekers after the true method of education will seek in vain until they recognise the wisdom in the phrase once uttered by a woman of the crowd: “I had nothing but home-schooling.” Yet the home-schooling now almost absent from town life is so fundamental that, in another phrase of a Priest of God: “Political Economy is the child of Domestic Economy.” This only says, in language of the Schools, that God has made the Family to be the unit and model of the State, and that the greatest praise of Sovereign Power is to call the wielder of that power the “Father of his People.”

FOURTH MOTIVE: LOVE OF CHASTITY

This family life, with its craft of love, leads to another motive driving Catholic men and women out of city life to the land. Everywhere around them there are the sight and reek of bodily sin. These men and women are beginning to burn with shame at the insult offered to them. If they are men, they feel the insult of being considered so sensual that even a food or a holiday haunt cannot be offered to them without the recommendation of some sensual nudity. If they are women, in an age of selfconsciousness they feel even more insulted by the suggestion that women’s chief interest for man is not spiritual or intellectual, but carnal.

Town life, with its daily herding together in dwellings and modes of transport, is tending to produce a sensual disease which only isolation will cure or prevent. Psychologists of the mob-and a modern town is hardly more than a mob-will recognise that no moral disease is so contagious and persistent as that which is based on the bodily pleasure accompanying the altruism of parenthood.

Too often has mob psychology studied merely the wild outbursts of a crowd in anger; f orgetful that, though “Thou shalt not kill” is a more fundamental commandment than “Thou shall not commit adultery,” yet taking life is, in itself, so mentally abhorrent, and creating life is so physically pleasurable that when men and women are herded together in our modern towns sexual uncontrol tends to spread like a social plague. To flee that sensual plague Catholic men and women are going out of the crowded town to the wide spaces of the countryside, where the infection of sin within them will not be in the fittest medium for its growth and spread.

FIFTH MOTIVE: LOVE OF JUSTICE

Another motive behind the Catholic landcrusaders is the ideal embodied in the Redeemer’s first reveille:” Blessed are the Poor, for theirs is the Kingdom of Heaven.” Yet that reveille does not awaken the ideal of a starving poverty that is hardly permitted to give, or even to live. On the contrary, it is the heroic and socially valuable poverty of Him who was poor yet enriching many. Return to land-work, and its twin-fellow hand-work, means the return to a stable, profitable state of things, where the worker lives over his work and deals directly with the things made by infinite wisdom and love. When man has made this return, not to things primitive, but to things primary MAN NEED NOT WASTE A MOMENT OF TIME OR AN OUNCE OF MATERIAL.

In other words, return to land-work and hand-work gives all men the chance, and unselfish men the inducement, to the ideal-Poverty of Work in Production-Poverty of Thrift in Consumption. These are the two kinds of Poverty linked with the two primary functions of Production and Consumption.

By Poverty of Work a man seeks to produce as much as possible of real, as distinct from, token wealth. His ideal will be to produce the most he can of the best hecan. St. Paul’s challenge to the discussion-loving Ephesians will seldom fail from his thoughts”He that stole let him steal no more. But rather let him toil, working with his hands the thing that is good that he may have wherewith to give to the needy.” (Eph. iv, 28).

Such a worker will have all the more to give if after he has produced as much as he can he consumes as little as he needs. Poverty of Work joined with Poverty of Thrift. A land-worker or a hand-worker who measures his rights by his duties, and his wants by his needs, will leave the world that welcomed him richer than when it gave him a welcome.

Set against this enriching poverty of land-work and hand-work, the machine-work of the town is seen to be essentially wasteful of time and material. When, then, the Catholic land-crusaders plan to leave the town it is not merely through a desire to worship God and keep the hard command:” Thou shalt not commit adultery,” but in a desire to fulfil, “Thou shalt not steal.”

SIXTH MOTIVE: LOVE OF LIBERTY

A further motive of urgency with the Catholic Land Crusaders may be called their Love of Liberty. To some of them this motive expresses itself as a principle:”The Home is the Social Defence of Liberty and the Homestead is the Economic Defence of the Home.”

Yet this liberty is not a man ‘s physical and moral power to do what he would, but to do what he ought. The halftruth, and therefore heresy, of”self-expression” takes no lasting root on the land.

But only on the land, with its easy direct access to the forces of nature, is there the normal possibility of that unselfish self-reproduction which is nature’s counterstroke to”self-expression.”

On the land, therefore, the father of a family, which is the divine unit of human society, can seek liberty without himself falling into any anti-social selfishness. His demand to be free from servile conditions is a demand to have no hindrance to the good use of his power to beget and rear a family.

Put briefly, the ideal of liberty appears thus to the young men and women of the Land-Crusade. They think that human love, being a divine instinct, lives only by the making and the keeping of promises, or vows. Now, every vow made is a duty forged. For wedded love the mutual promise of the husband and wife, and the promise, all the more sacred because not mutual, of the father and mother towards the child, forge a chain of duty which demands the utmost freedom from all let or hindrance. And the youth who are now looking for the liberty to worship God by family life are turning from the servile conditions of the modem town as man has made it to the free conditions of nature made by God.

SEVENTH MOTIVE: LOVE OF THE FATHERLAND

Lastly, the men and women who are preparing to quit the towns for the land of their native country are prompted by the love of their country. They recognise that no town feeds or clothes itself, but must necessarily be fed and clothed by the dwellers on the land. Moreover, they go on to recognise that the more people dwell in the town, the more people must dwell on and till the land. Hence, a State so organised that town-dwellers increase and land-dwellers decrease is a State bleeding to death.

But no other country in the world has our excess of town-dwellers over land-dwellers. The results of this ill-made distribution of our people are set out with startling clearness by the Prime Minister-Mr. Ramsay MacDonald-in a recent utterance on the National Crisis:

“It is essential that the confidence of the world in our credit should be restored; otherwise we sh all not be able to maintain the value of the pound sterling and the results of that should be very carefully considered. First of all, if there was any collapse of the pound we should be defaulting in our obligations to the rest of the world, and our credit would be gone. This would be fatal, since this country, above all others, depends on the maintenance of its credit, having to buy, as we do, so large a Part of our food and raw materials from abroad.” (Broadcast Address-25th August, 1931).

“If our financ ial stability is endangered and a run made on our financial resources, the consequences are too terrible to envisage.” (Letter to unofficial members of the Labour Party-26th August, 1931.)

It is sometimes urged that land-work is hard. The reply must always be:”Hard or easy, land-work is necessary.” If then, the Nation needs for its life the sacrifice (or, as the present writer would say, the seeming sacrifice) of land-work, this work must be organised, either voluntarily or compulsorily; because a nation, like an individual, cannot take its own life. If voluntary effort fails the Nation will be compelled to apply compulsion. Flens dico.* Such compulsion would be a disgrace to any people, especially the people of these Islands, to whom God has committed land that is the most fertile and a climate that is the most temperate of His World.

But the Catholic Land-Crusaders are determined to prevent this disgrace by making voluntary effort not a failure, but a success. Filled with a hope and love that spring from their high vision of faith they are tided to go forth from Egypt’s servile conditions to the liberty of the sons and daughters of God, where they may worship Him with hand and heart. They will not be forgetful that when God bids them worship Him by the commandment” Honour thy father and thy mother,” He has bid them to give honour, reverence, obedience, and, at times, selfsacrifice to the land that bore them and the breasts of earth that gave them suck.

* “I say it with tears.”

* * * *

Prepare thy work without and diligently till thy ground that afterwards thou mayest build thy house. (Proverbs xxxiv, 27.)

II

ITS AIMS AND METHODS

BY COMMANDER HERBERT SHOVE, D.S.O., R.N

(Chairman, South of England Catholic Land Association)

The past few decades have se en the birth and death of not a few “Back to the Land” movements in Great Britain. So notorious is that fact that nearly everyone now distrusts all such attempts as “ Utopian ideals, desirable rather than attainable in practice.” British farming, we are told, “does not pay” and the British farmer cannot “compete” with his overseas congener. We have elected to become “the Workshop of the World” and on our ability to maintain that position must depend our national life or death. Events are now showing that, if this be so, Britain is indeed sick unto death.

FIRST AIM: FAMILY SECURITY

At the moment of writing there are nearly three million registered unemployed in Great Britain. Never in the past ten years have there been less than a million. All these, as well as all those in employment and the dependents of both classes, have to be fed on the produce of husbandry. They do not eat money, whether they receive it in the form of wages or of a “dole.” Their subsistence, then, is ultimately measured in agricultural produce, and somebody’s farming obviously “pays” them. What is meant by saying that farming in Great Britain “does not pay” is that the directors of the secondary “workshop” production find it easier to make their profits-i.e., to get their food-from an exchange with overseas rather than with home producers of the primary things. This can only affect the home producer in so far as he himself lives by exchange-i.e., he does not consume his own products, but relies on selling them in a more or less consumable state in order to have money to buy what he does consume, which is too often itself an imported, and generally a factory product. It is because of this commercial way of looking at farming as an “ industry “ on a par with the secondary industries that it can be said not to pay its practitioners. This concern primarily with markets is the root heresy that has led to the failure of previous “Back to the Land” movements. It is in the avoidance of it that, under God’s providence, the new Catholic Movement hopes to find success.

Peasant Farming is not an industry. It is the art of living on the soil, of extracting first for one ‘s own family and only secondarily for a market, the treasures of the”storehouse that shall never fail, affording the daily supply for his daily wants” which man “finds solely in the inexhaustible fertility of the earth.” (Leo XIII, Rerum Novarum). It is this sort of farming that alone can offer the freedom from the temptations, the slavery and the miseries of the towns described by Father Vincent McNabb in the first part of this pamphlet. It is therefore this sort of farming that the Catholic Land Associations are seeking to recreate in Britain, whence it has disappeared more completely than from any other State of which we have historical or contemporary record.

The figures of unemployment and the shrinkage of our foreign trade are symptoms of the ominous fact that Great Britain cannot, as a whole, continue to be the “Workshop of the World.” There is not space here to go into the economic reasons and inevitability of this. But to any Catholic it must be obvious that as “God is not mocked” no system founded on the principle that the love of money is the root, not of all evil, but of all “progress” and human improvement can be successful in the long run. Neither can fallen human nature of itself rise to such heights of selfabnegation, nor the image of God be so utterly destroyed in man, as would be necessary for the working of either the “idealist” or the “utilitarian” forms of Communism. As Catholics again, we do not need the economic or philosophical demonstration that can be given of the illusory nature of the dream of a “Leisure State”-whether its form be socialistic, capitalistic or any other ancient or modern system-wherein scientific invention and organisation shall relieve the bulk of mankind from the obligation of spending the major portion of their lives in working for their sustenance. “Science” has not “abolished scarcity” as the growing school of “New Economists” would have us believe. This we know, because God Himself has said: In the sweat of thy face shalt thou eat bread till thou return to the earth out of which thou hast taken. (Gen. iii, 19).

All attempts to mock God by escaping this necessary labour, whether through “science” or otherwise, are fore—doomed to failure. It is not we, the advocatesof a return to simple sanity, but the followers of these “will-o’-thewisps” who are the Utopists.

SECOND AIM: NATIONAL SECURITY

But the new Catholic Land Movement must not be thought of as an attempt to overthrow the existing order by political or by any direct action. Still less are we seeking to attack any individual, corporation, or class. We realise that the directors of the present system, in helping it, however imperfectly, to supply the needs of the community may be performing a great social service in the world as it is, and deserving of great social respect and material, and even spiritual, reward. Circumstances, often much more than choice, mistakes often much more than moral failure, whether on his own or others’ part, determine the work at which a man finds himself engaged. And provided that work is not in itself sinful, it can be hallowed, whether the whole system of which it forms part be desirable or no; for the individual is not responsible for that. But we do hold that it is our duty, as Patriots no less than as Catholics, to strive to open a road whereby our fellow countrymen may not merely escape the present bondage and temptations that beset them in the modern industrial city, even more than has notoriously been the case in all cities in all ages, but may build for themselves, and ultimately for the rest of the population, an ark of safety from the deluge of impending industrial decay. Already, as we have said above, industrialism is failing to fulfil God’s plan for humanity in that it cannot provide that work which God has said we must perform. It must therefore be supplemented and, as most of us believe, will ultimately be supplanted by a simpler, healthier and more righteous social system. That system must be based on the land, whence all our sustenance comes, and on the labour of our hands, which God has ordained as the means thereto.

Now, while we believe that, whether in the meanwhile we work for or against it, this is the only possible ultimate development, the continued existence of the vast commercioindustrial organisation, with its specious offers of wealth, luxury and “convenience,” its false philosophy of ease, leisure and mechanical distractions as the ends of human life, and of work as mere irksome toil to be curtailed as much as possible, must remain as a stumbling block and an irresistible temptation to those not supported by true principles in facing the undoubted physical hardships and inconveniences involved in the return to a peasant life. It has been said that no people has ever voluntarily gone out from the city into the wilderness, save under the influence of a religious ideal. Mere economic considerations are not enough. Individual selfishness keeps its victims herded together in the doomed city right up to the moment of its final chaotic debacle, when at last famine, disease, and bloodshed drive them from the smouldering heap of ruins. Only those with Faith in the Divine Guidance, with Trust in the Divine Providence for the future, will flee, as Lot fled from Sodom. The rest will wait until it is too late and the fire and brimstone, once it begins to rain upon them, rains faster than they can fly. So, as the Faith was the means of recivilising Europe after the break-up of the Roman Empire, only that same Faith can be the means of re-creating the modern world. Only a firm grasp of ultimate truth and the assistance of God’s grace can strengthen our weak human nature to become the pioneers and exemplars of the finally inevitable exodus. Without such pioneers and exemplars that new British exodus can only become a blind panic, in which our civilisation will be destroyed as utterly as that of Ninive or Babylon. On the Catholic minority must fall the burden of saving our country.

THIRD AND FINAL AIM: SPIRITUAL SECURITY

In order, however, that we may have the full benefit of such Divine Help it is vital that we should not begin by cutting ourselves off from the freest possible access to all the means ordained by God for our reception of it. Isolated individuals, single families, or even very small groups of families, going out from the towns into our depopulated countryside are very much exposed to such dangers. The first pioneer to go forth at the head of our armies must be Our Blessed Lord Himself, and there must be rallied round Him a bodyguard strong enough and concentrated enough to uphold the honour of His court, as well as drawing their own inspiration from as intimate and as continuous contact with Him as possible.

FIRST MEANS: THE VILLAGE COMMUNITY

This dictates to us the primary conditions of our method. It is not our object merely to help Catholics back to the land, but to re-create a Catholic Community on the Land. The unit of our recolonisation then must be the group of families large enough to support a priest and a school. In short a country parish.

Besides the spiritual advantages of this, it will powerfully contribute to make possible the realisation of the economic organisation we have in view; the true Peasant Life. An individual, or even a single family, would find it very difficult to provide all their essential needs from their own plot of land. The degree of comfort thus attainable would also be very limited. Such hardships-approximating to those of Robinson Crusoe on his island-even if it were possible to find heroic souls willing voluntarily to undergo them, are neither necessary nor desirable. God made man to live in society, and the rule of society is the rule of mutual help. As it is incumbent on the members of a Family to co-operate for their mutual support, so it is the obligation—at any rate in charity-of neighbours to co-operate for the lightening and better performance of their common toil. Such co-operation can, however, only be carried on safely and without the friction, jealousies, distrust, and intrigues that have wrecked so many well-meant attempts, if the spirit of the society is a right spirit. if the commonly recognised ideal is the service of God, rather than the service of Mammon. This we shall not find if we continue to rely on things only producible by, or obtainable from, the commercio-industrial system. We must, as far as possible, cut ourselves off from such things. And the stronger our group is numerically-provided it can remain a group of real neighbours in the spiritual as well as in the local sensethe greater will be its capacity thus to become truly self-supporting, and the greater the comfort in which it can support itself from its own land.

At the Conference of the Catholic Land Associations of Great Britain, held at Oscott College in August, 1931, a resolution was passed affirming the incompatibility of our objects with industrialised or large scale farming, and both the Midland and the South of England Catholic Land Associations have definitely included in their statements of objects a clause pledging themselves to work for the “Family Subsistence Farm” as the normal type to be re-created. This must, however, be read as complementary to the idea of group settlement and of mutual neighbourly help within the group, as outlined in the preceding paragraph.

SECOND MEANS: FAMILY INDEPENDENCE

The principle of the “ Family Subsistence Farm “ is that each family should plan and execute the cropping of its own land with a view primarily to its own needs and not with an eye to the market. In practice there will certainly be a surplus of some products, if only for the reason that prudence dictates the allowance of a margin for contingencies of season, etc. This surplus will be the marketable produce, which will provide for the feeding of those specialists in town or country whose business it is to produce the secondary things of life, the “culture building” class of non- manual workers, the “artistic” craftsmen, etc., etc., whose concern is with the spires and pinnacles of the social order, whose foundations are laid in the land by the husbandmen. But in any truly stable order of society it must be the rule that “the husbandman that laboureth must first partake of the fruits.” This is best ensured by freeing him as far as possible from dependence on a system of exchange over which he has no control, and of the conditions of which he has no opportunity of forming an accurate judgment.

These are the conditions of production for a distant market, but they do not obtain in a small community of neighbours, and in such a community specialisation, whether in the production or the preparation of consumable or of “ capital “ goods-i.e., tools, buildings, etc-makes for material improvement without loss of freedom. The principle governing such specialisation is generally respected in the practice of normal peasant societies, though not often recognised as a clear theoretical basis of civil policy. It is simply the common-sense idea that the normal family should, as far as reasonably possible, provide itself with all those requirements of which it needs a continuous supply, and in the provision of which its members will therefore necessarily become proficient, and should obtain from specialists those things of which the need is more rarely felt, and in the making of which its members will thus be less proficient, because less practised, than the specialists, and usually unprovided with the necessary tools, etc.

There are also certain pursuits, such as bee-keeping, herb-growing, the raising of stock-as, e.g., horses, poultry, or pigs-not so much for immediate utility as for the improvement of the breed, etc., the efficient performance of which seems to require a special aptitude or study and may well become a whole-time speciality. But these will grow naturally in a peasant community to supply the needs of that community. The danger today is that the thing is hopelessly overdone and the general type of “small-holding” is thought of as a “chicken-farm-cum-tomatohouse” to supply produce for a distant market. This makes the small-holder a mere outlying urban worker dependent on the towns, and reverses the natural order of things, wherein the towns exist to serve the country and not vice versa. That is why we stand for the general mixed subsistence holding as our type, though we do not condemn the specialist as the exception.

THIRD MEANS: ORGANISED TRAINING

It will be readily understood that such a programme can only be carried out by the acquisition for each settlement of a considerable area of land. Scattered plots cannot be utilised for the full application of our principles. Our policy, therefore, is to collect the main body of our “parishioners” and get the organisation as complete as possible, concurrently with seeking out for them an area on which they can settle as a group. We do not, as a general rule, advocate sending our colonists out piecemeal, even if there is room for the extension of a colony round land to be originally occupied by one or two families. Later, when a group has its organisation, it will be more practicable to send recruits direct to the settlement if we have sufficient land not fully occupied. In the meanwhile, it is felt that the most hopeful policy is that of beginning with a training farm, whereon the future settlers can learn the necessary technique and at the same time get together and organise their personnel. It has to be kept in mind that the majority of our recruits will need to be taught, not only the technique, but the very conditions of country life. We cannot hope to succeed merely by emptying them directly out of the cities onto the land, and there leaving them to fend for themselves.

It is, of course, possible that we shall find it most practicable to cut up the original training farm itself into individual holdings for those trained there. If we are so blessed that we find ourselves coming into possession of suitable estates and recruiting suitable recruits sufficiently rapidly, the foundation of colonies by a process somewhat analogous to the spread of a Religious Order, by establishing new houses or offshoots from a “ Mother-House,” may well be looked for. But that is a matter for the future. At present our endeavour is to get the training centres established. For this purpose each association requires in its area a suitable estate and sufficient funds to make a beginning.

There are already two such centres in being. At Broadfield Farm, Symington, Lanarkshire, the Rev. John McQuillan, D.D., has established a colony under the aegis of the Scottish Association-the pioneer of the movement-where between twenty and thirty young men and boys, recruited for the most part from the poorer quarters of Glasgow, are daily becoming more proficient and more nearly entirely self-supporting so far as the production of their own food direct from the soil is concerned. All the work is done by hand, even to the thrashing of corn by the flail and the cutting of both hay and corn with the scythe. In this connection it is amusing and instructive to note that so far from the original gloomy prophecies of lost crops made by local farmers having been fulfilled, a request was received from one of them towards the end of the first harvest for assistance from the colonists in cutting his own “laid” oats!.

At Old Brown’ s Farm, Chartridge, near Chesham, Bucks, a group of young men have been established by the South of England Catholic Land Association. This farm, situated in the Chilterns, is pre-eminently suited for the growth of cereals; indeed, even when taken over, considerably more than half its 140 acres were under the plough. In addition to the training of the colonists it is hoped here to provide an object lesson in what really can be done towards the revival of Rural England by the application of the true principles of local self-support and the elimination of the dominating middleman. So far as possible such surplus as has to be sold will be sold direct to consumers and in a completely consumable form. This will entail the development of subsidiary crafts and an eventual revival of a number of village industries at present swamped by urban mass-production and commercial methods. It is hoped that in a few years practically completely selfsupporting groups may be thrown off as “swarms” from this parent hive able atonce to take over and distribute amongst themselves some of the now almost derelict estates and “ranches” with which the country is covered.

Meanwhile the multiplication of such centres as each Association or each Diocesan Branch of the various Associations is able to set up its own establishment is in itself a step towards the re-population of our countryside and a means of creating widespread local interest in different districts, as well as going some way towards making each such district self-supporting.

GENERAL METHOD: CO-ORDINATED DECENTRALISATION

It may be asked why there is more than one association. As a matter of history, the English Associations were founded by the independent, but almost simultaneous action of groups happening to come together in different centres-in London and Birmingham respectively. But it is felt that the difference of conditions in the South and in the Midlands, and of both from Scotland, makes the preservation of distinct organisations the most convenient method of attaining our ends. In fact we welcome the multiplication of Associations, for we believe in decentralisation of all that can be efficiently decentralised and in associations rather as a means of co-ordinating than of initiating individual and local effort. But to watch over the interests of the Movement as a whole, and as a coordinating link between the associations, a Standing Joint Committee, consisting of the Chairman and Secretary of each local association, has been set up.

Generally speaking, the Associations are formed to operate within areas corresponding with the ecclesiastical divisions of the country into Provinces or Dioceses, though the Provincial division in England has had to be somewhat modified owing to the rather anomalous geographical boundary between Westminster and Birmingham, a boundary which does not correspond with any natural division of the country from the point of view of land settlement or agricultural conditions. The ideal, of course, is that each diocese or even each county within a diocese should eventually have its own Association or branch of a larger provincial or diocesan Association working as an officially approved diocesan institution, and where possible in co-operation with other such institutions, e.g., Rescue Societies.

HOW YOU CAN HELP US

From the foregoing it will be seen that we have a difficult task. But for our reliance on the Providence of Almighty God and our belief in the principles laid down by His Vicars on earth in the great Encyclicals on which we have based our constitution, we might think it too difficult. With our present small numbers and smaller material resources we have to devote a great part of our energies to propaganda and, above all, to Prayer. If you, the reader of this pamphlet, feel that you cannot help us materially, do not, we beg of you, forget that, whatever your circumstances, you can powerfully assist us in these directions. We need funds, we need land-either as a gift, or on loan or lease-we need pioneers, both clerical and lay, who will actually undertake the resettlement of our devastated country and personally make the sacrifices thereby entailed. Of potential settlers there is no lack, if we can provide them with leaders. But not all those leaders can be actual settlers themselves. We must maintain touch with the urban population from within, if we are to help the new exodus on any large scale or over any extended period. Those then, who, from whatever cause, feel themselves unable to go out in person or immediately, can still be of great service to us by giving us their leisure, by working on our committees and in our propaganda, even if they cannot subscribe largely to our funds, or offer us land or technical knowledge. And all, without exception, even if they cannot spare the time for active work, can pray for us and for our intentions.

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The Catholic Mother

FR. BEDE JARRETT, O.P

INDEX

ASSAULT ON FAMILY LIFE

Perhaps the most sinister menace of recent years has been the assault on family life, namely, first. on the family as an institution and, secondly, on the various relationships within the family, husband and wife, father and mother, children and parents. This assault is not indeed only of recent years, for it is to be found at the French Revolution also, and, befor e that, in Rousseau. But there is this to be noticed: the assault that is being made at present on the family as the single unit of society comes no longer from one quarter, but is being delivered from many different angles. These attacks are sometimes conscious, deliberate, sometimes utterly unconscious. Thus those who advocate or denounce certain practices or principles are not always aware of what they are attacking, nor how inevitably what they hold today will lead them on to something else tomorrow, which at present they would repudiate but tomorrow will proclaim. Thus when the practices of birth-control were first propagated, the opponents of them urged that if birth-control was taught there was no reason why abortion should not also be taught; and they were met by a very indignant denial on the part of those who favoured birth-control that there was any connection between the two ideas. No doubt this denial was sincere, but it was short-sighted and futile. The defenders of birth-control are equally now defenders of abortion. Sterilization of the unfit has already been added to their programme. It will be made compulsory, no doubt, and not merely on those that are now held to be unfit. This is merely one instance of what is happening everywhere. Again, the Lambeth bishops would have been disturbed if they had realized where their permissions were leading. But, with false principles from which to start, there is no end to the degradation that must follow. The next Lambeth Conference, if it is honest, will either go on to further abominations or go back. Thus, under the weight of Divorce, State Education, Sterilization, the present economic organization, etc., the family is gradually being assaulted from every angle.

FAMILY MEANS MOTHERHOOD

Now the first point to realize is that all these various attacks are attacks on motherhood. They are also, no doubt, in part, attacks on freedom. They are attacks on motherhood precisely because what is attacked must inevitably be the centre of the family-and round the mother grows up the home. The father is also the centre, but differently. He is the active external worker; the mother’s activities are as great but they have a smaller circumference. They are limited to nearer matters. By her activities the home is kept alive and is a true home. At no time, moreover, can she “knock off work.” Her factory has no hooter to sound the hour for stopping, her shop has no closing time, her office hours have no end. But since she is the centre of the home it must be that her motherhood is most in jeopardy when the family is menaced. In birth-control it is she who suffers, and she suffers not merely in her nerves but precisely in her motherhood. Again, it is her motherhood that is affected by divorce. Even the most advanced defenders of divorce will admit that motherhood in its richest implications must suffer from the carrying out of their programmes. They regret this but consider that it cannot be helped.

The problem of children is an old one. Always ordinary traditional Christian teaching has allowed parents to space the arrival of their children; but it forbids this to be done by direct artificial interference with nature. It recognises that the virtue of prudence, and also a variety of family necessities and difficulties may, under certain circumstances, allow a limitation to be set deliberately and legitimately to the number of children that parents may have. But it also considers that the will of man (plus the grace of God) is capable of carrying this out by the sole means of self-restraint. Since human nature has existed for many thousands of years and has been hitherto able to restrain itself by means of its will, it seems pure assumption to say that this cannot be done now-unless, indeed, it is equally admitted that man today is far less able to control himself than he was, that instead of progressing from a lower stage to a higher he has slipped back into the lower, that the loss of religion has meant also the loss of will-power, the disbelief in God ended in disbelief in man.

We cannot, indeed, but agree that economic conditions do now make the support of a large family harder than ever. But our answer to this problem is to urge as the remedy an increase of wages and not a diminishing of the family. If one of these two things has to happen, let wages be altered, not the family. We urge, moreover, that the money spent on this unclean trade, and on the booming of unclean practices by the trade which profits from their sale, should rather have been spent, and would have been better spent, on social propaganda for improving the circumstances of the people troubled in this way than on continuing them and exploiting the needs of the poor. Just as the Church forbids even the man who is so poor that he can hardly house or clothe or feed his family to use artificial means to limit his family, on the definite principle that it is immoral, so also she denounces as immoral the artificial means that have made it almost impossible for him to house and feed and clothe a family. It is society which is falsely constructed, not the family. Motherhood is blessed; therefore what blocks motherhood in the present falsely constructed society is accursed.

MOTHERHOOD AND CHILDREN

In thinking of the children we think of their education, and so of their Catholic education, for Catholic education is not a right so much as a duty. It is a duty which lies on the father and mother as soon as the child is born.

The ancient Greeks insisted on the importance of surrounding babyhood with beautiful things; the psychologist of today entirely agrees with this. Without intermission the Church has taught the same thing; only with her it is holy things that the child should be surrounded by, namely, that particular beauty that is radiant with goodness from God. At least and always the Church insists that the child should have these. Here Plato would also have approved, for he maintained that beautiful bodies were the lowest form of human beauties. Plato would have approved of beautiful holiness as the best surrounding for a child, that as early and constantly as possible it should be surrounded by whatever true idea, or true representation, of goodness the parents could collect round their child. Thus the making of the sign of the Cross on itself, the joining of its hands together in prayer, a statue of the Child Jesus, a crucifix, statues of the Mother and Child, of St. Joseph, and of the Angel Guardian, should be familiar objects to a child, so that it grows up in an atmosphere of supernatural life. All this will depend largely on the mother’s sense of her duty to the child’s education and development.

Naturally, the physical well-being of her children must also be present to the mother’s mind; and here, in the earlier stages of its growth, she will have need to consult a doctor and a nurse. Let them, if possible, be Catholic doctors and nurses. There are good doctors and nurses other than Catholic ones, certainly; but these, if they be properly instructed Catholics, will help a mother more faithfully than the others because she will have no misgiving or anxiety about their advice. She will be able to trust absolutely what they say.

But though the little body must be cared for, yet it must not be over-indulged. It must be kept clean. It is the temple of God.

Again, the right sort of food, for it is a matter about ‘which advice should be asked from experts in motherhood, mothers who know.

Also the character of the child will need training as far as its frail condition will allow. It should not be allowed to grow up anyhow. Neither should it be nagged at. What is wanted is not to have to say, “you must not fight or lie or be selfish or disobedient,” but to encourage children not to want to fight or lie or be selfish or disobey. It is not actions, but character at the back of actions, that has to be laid hold of. Now character can only be formed by character on character. You can only train children properly by making them wish to form themselves on the model of another character. That is why it is a mother’s business to teach her child the beauty of the character of Christ. And she will teach it to her child successfully only in proportion to the way she herself perceives it. Only because the mother loves the character of Our Lord is she likely to be able to show its beauty and greatness to her child, and convince it that He was great, is great. That is only another proof of the responsibility of motherhood: she and her child united “for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer” in the things of the spirit.

Lastly, there is the opening mind of the child to be taught and trained.

EDUCATION AND THE STATE

Actually the State now imposes compulsory education. (In Australia, all children must attend school from the ages of six to fourteen years, either at public schools, conducted by the State, or at private registered schools, such as are conducted by the Catholic Church.) It may be that we would prefer education to be optional as long as every parent had the opportunity to send his children to a school, but the conditions actually obtaining make education compulsory. No doubt there is some loss in this. It is better, both for parents and children, when the mother does some of the teaching herself. She would remember her schooling better herself if she had to teach it. Moreover, it keeps mother and child closer together all their lives long. when the child’s memories are thus rooted in her home.

It is right also to remember that the authority which the teachers have over the children has been given them by the parents. The teachers have their authority because they stand in the place of the parents, and not from their relation to the State. Their power is given them by the parents of the children, and these parents, even when giving them power, never abdicate their own powers. They have always to keep an eye on the education of their children. Normally they can be sure that in the hands of the teachers, the children will be properly looked after. But parents should get to know- the teachers, and be interested in the school, and try to see how they can help forward the education of their children. There should be co-operation between parents and teachers. The teachers need this co-operation; sometimes they complain that the parents do not help them, that the parents undo their work, undo what the school has done for the children. Parents, too, sometimes think that the school undoes what the home has done for the children. The best remedy and preventive is cooperation between parents and teachers, and this is the best thing for the child.

But there is a difference between the natural authority of the parents and the imposed authority of the teachers, which makes the authority of the parents the more to be safeguarded, the more to be valued, to be kept the more continuously unbroken. Of the two the authority of the parents should be more important. Yet the teachers have a long apprenticeship before they are judged to know how to exercise it; this apprenticeship covers not merely years in which to learn the subjects to be taught the children, but in which to learn how to teach at all. Now a mother also has to teach her children many things. Does she ever learn how to teach? Is not her need to know this even greater than the need of the teachers? She should learn how to teach her children and she surely will not be able to do this without learning. It is not that she is ignorant of this, because she is a mother; but mother-instinct, though good, is not enough to live by. There are successful mothers, and mothers who are not in the least successful. It is not merely enough to love a child to be able to help it; wise love is needed. Love can sometimes be foolish Natural instinct goes a long way but not all the way. Mothers, however, can learn by watching successful mothers, and seeing how they train their children, and so becoming themselves expert in the art of training. Let them remember their own homes when they were children, and ask themselves whether their mothers failed with one or other of the children, and why. It is not books that they need to help them so much as a study of the experiences of their life. A mother will learn more by remembering and watching and asking than by reading or having instructions in maternity clinics, though these, if carried on by sane instructors, can be of great help. Only she must remember that each child is a creature apart, and should be studied individually. It is due to the small circumference of the home that the children can have individual treatment. That is the value of home training. It can be personal. Not all the children of a family should be treated alike. It is not just to treat every one alike, because all are not alike. Justice demands a rich variety of treatment and perhaps this is only possible fully at home.

PROFESSION OF MOTHERHOOD

All this makes the profession of motherhood a very high responsibility. Indeed, it is a profession more challenging than any other profession in the world. There are professions which demand of those who practise them that they should be ready to face death in the discharge of their professional duties. Thus a soldier and a sailor have to be ready to give their lives upon demand. A doctor, a nurse, a priest, have each of them often to risk their strength, or even their lives, if the need of human service demands them. But yet soldier, sailor, doctor, nurse, priest, may live to ripe old age without actually having to put their lives in jeopardy. They may never be in danger from the duties of their profession. A mother is not like that. She has not only to be ready to endanger her life: she has actually to risk that danger. No mother but has actually faced that risk when she has acquitted herself again of motherhood.

Hence motherhood asks of every mother a character of heroism. Mothers are the most constantly heroic of mankind. Mothers have therefore nearly always been found on the side of religion, for religion demands heroism of its followers. Religion is not an opiate, for religion does not help people to forget, but to remember. It does not dull people. It does not say Take, but Give. Religion asks everything of its believers, for religion is love, and love is the most demanding, the most costing, of all the passions of man. That is why Our Lord compressed the whole of religion into one commandment: “Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with thy whole heart. whole soul, whole strength.” Mothers perhaps more easily understand this than others (except young men, perhaps, who are learning it by falling in love).

Moreover, not only are mothers heroic because they are constantly being challenged to risk their lives, but also because more than any others they find their profession to be a “whole-time job.” Mothers are never unemployed, or should not be, for their children are not merely to be born of them but tended by them until death parts them. Children take a deal of tending, children of all ages; and here, in the number of a mother’s children, even their father is to be reckoned. To the mother, her very husband is always a child. He needs looking after as much as any of them, but he must not realize that she so judges of him. He is even more sensitive than the children are to the indignity of being publicly looked after by the mother. That only means that she must wait on him with the greater tact.

But her cares are only increased the more by this, and her employment is only the more continuous. She has to go on looking after them as long as any of them are still at home; that is what inevitably happens, for she is the home. The family carries the nation, she carries the family. the whole of Christendom rests on the mother’s knee.

A NEW AGE

Mothers are sometimes discouraged by their experiences to believe that these old ideals of motherhood are done with. In some moods they are led to think that the world has altered, and that children no longer obey their parents nor will be governed by them as they once did. It may be true. But if it is true, the cause for it is manifest. If a whole generation of youth no longer is governed by its parents, no longer reverences them, is utterly selfish towards them, the only people who can have brought this about are the parents themselves. Individual cases indeed do not prove that individual parents have failed, for good parents can have ill-bred children and, contrariwise, careless parents may have children who worship them. But it remains true that a whole generation can fail only because the generation immediately before it disregarded its duty. The excuse is sometimes made that the young folk grew up in the war without a father to look after them. That alone would not have caused the trouble. The real cause was not that the fathers were not present, but that the mothers were absent. They went to work, or were touched by their excitement, and neglected their duty because, in that pitiful phrase, they wanted “a good time.”

WISE SELF-SACRIFICE

Perhaps, after all, the cause of that selfish generation of children was not exactly because mothers were negligent of their duty in that they did not look after their children. The selfishness of children may be due to another cause which, however, will not free the parents from blame. It may be unselfishness that has been the mother’s undoing. To be self-sacrificing is admirable and motherly; but it has its disadvantages. It can be unwise.

Let us put it in this way. A mother will come to the priest and complain of her child to him. “Father, I have done everything for him, and now he turns round and is most selfish to me.” Poor mother! All the more shall we pity her because his selfishness is in part her fault. Why did she do everything for her child? She should not have done everything. She should have let him do things for her himself. When children are little, the mother does everything for them since they cannot do anything for themselves. But gradually she has to steel her heart against doing everything for them. They must be trained to do things for themselves. They must not be for ever dependent on her. She has to train them to get on without her, to be independent of her, to live their own lives, to look after themselves.

Even that is not enough. They must not only be trained to do things for themselves, they must be trained to do things for her. And they will want to do many things for her; that is their nature, they will want to help. There will be some things, of course, that very soon they will not want to do for her—dull, dreary things, fetching, cleaning, carrying. But these also they must be trained to do. The mother will often want to save time and trouble by doing them for herself, but if she does she will hurt her children’s character. She must train them young to work for others, to be unselfish, to give.

It is an almost inevitable effect of a large family that the children of themselves grow up generous and tolerant. This is thumped into them by the aid of many fists. But with a small family, it has all to de done by the mother and father. They have to do for their children what brothers and sisters would have done for them, for, whatever happens, the work needs to be done.

Mothers, then, must not allow their self-sacrificing nature, their heroism, to prevent them from demanding sacrifices in return from their children. Their needs and not her needs must be remembered. They need to be trained to give. Of their very childhood they are impulsive and generous, but this spontaneous character of theirs can be hurt. It can also be developed. Let mothers look into it. That only is wise self-sacrifice when it encourages and demands sacrifice. A generous mother can reduce her children to selfishness, a mother who does everything for her child has actually taught that child to be selfish. She has no right to complain of his subsequent ingratitude. Her folly has ruined her child.

That is why it has happened that “good” mothers have ill-bred children; they were not really “good” mothers, for goodness includes prudence and wisdom. Really good mothers are also wise mothers.

PIETY IN MOTHERS

Right in early childhood piety needs to be taught to children; but even in early childhood children are very different from each other in their attitude to piety. Some seem naturally pious, or at least naturally interested in religious things, or naturally devout and reverent; others seem wearied and troubled by piety, are restless under it, irked by it. These are merely natural traits of temperament and do not really mean very much. Those who are restless at prayer are, as often as not, restless anywhere; anything that calls for initiative, as prayer does, makes them uncomfortable. They are difficult at occupying themselves, entertaining themselves; they must be entertained by others, need to be amused, cannot amuse themselves. But it does not always follow that restless children are of this character. Sometimes the reverse takes place. Sometimes it is those who need to be entertained who relish churchgoing. Their temperament is satisfied by what they look at. So it seems to be impossible to decide why some children are naturally pious and some are not. Certainly it is not always a continuing interest. Some begin like that and end very differently; some never seem to have a love of piety in childhood and yet have it in youth.

This early attraction or distaste for religion can be well set aside as of no absolute importance. What mothers have to do certainly is to study their children; each child is different. That is the beauty of a home, that children can be studied individually and with sympathy. In nearly every family, for instance, there is one who is different from the rest. However, the point to be realized is the delicate way in which mothers have to deal with each child in teaching it religion.

First, the mother has to insist upon religion, not as a matter of liking or not liking, but as a matter of duty; yet the duty must not be made distasteful. Religion of itself is interesting to a normal child. First a child is curious for information. It wants to know things. Hence catechism can be made most interesting to a child. But this depends on the teacher. Some questions and answers should be learnt by heart. Not all of them need be, for not all of them matter. Some certainly do. But the child should not be burdened in its learning. Here, then, is the delicacy of the business; on the one hand the child should not be plagued with religion, on the other hand the child should be taught to recognize the demands of religion as of a duty, over and above mere liking and disliking. Merely because it does not want to pray, it should not be excused from praying; merely because it does not want to obey, it should not be excused from obeying. It needs to be taught prayer in such a way that it shall find prayer interesting. The Rosary is often meaningless, and worse, to a child. A “decade” is as much as it can manage at any one time. The character of Christ, on the other hand, can always be an inspiration to a child; the stories of the Gospels, the scenes, the parables, His patience, courage, endurance, fortitude, fearlessness, His love of birds and flowers and the harvest, His choice of carpentering His love of the sea and the hills and of gardens at night for praying in, His forgiveness, all can be of interest as well as help to a child. With all these he should be familiar at his mother’s knee. She can teach him to pray by showing him how to form his own prayers, how to ask and thank and praise, how to be silent and listen, how to gaze at Christ. She will have no difficulty in explaining the Blessed Sacrament to him, or the Incarnation; she should have no difficulty in guiding him how to talk to God-which is all we mean by prayer. But talk here also includes silence and contemplation, for a child is born a contemplative usually. It wants so often to look and be still and say nothing. Let it be helped to do that.

But no one can teach except what he has learnt himself. No mother can teach prayer who does not practise it. No one can give what he has not got.

THE TEACHING OF PURITY

Purity must be taught. But purity is not the opposite to impurity. Purity is the thing in itself, impurity is its lack. Purity is the positive dedication of love to Our Lord in such wise that love is not killed, but cleansed. To love God is not to deny the need to love man, still less the need to love a man, a woman, a child. Purity means that the love of God helps us to love other people, and not merely to love ourselves in other people. To love passionately may be to serve self only. To love passionately is sometimes to love the passion of love, its thrill, its stir, the pleasures it gives us, and not really at all the apparent object of our love. Thus to love passionately may be only to love self, not another. Passion can go hand-in-hand with decent, pure love, will be found nearly always to some degree in all love, but it can easily usurp love’s place, if we love merely to have the pleasure of loving. Love is not the same as pleasure; love is as much at home with pain.

But purity means that Our Lord’s friendship is a third in all our friendships. Into our human friendships the ,body enters as well as the soul. That is as it should be. We are compacted of body and soul. This love that involves the body in it will not hurt us, for Our Lord can be remembered as present in every moment of every lawful love. The Church has even a blessing for the marriage-bed. For marriage is not something to look down upon, but something to be looked up to. It was the Manicheans and Albigensians who taught that the marriage act was unclean; and yet the Church has been condemned by many for persecuting them, for wishing to exterminate them. No doubt to exterminate them was a drastic remedy to apply to their disease; but the occasion infuriated Mother Church. She believed in the Incarnation. She believed that matter could be hallowed, that the sacraments were holy, that marriage had been blessed with a sacrament, that to decry the marriage-act was blasphemy against the Creator of mankind. For that reason she was bitterly intolerant. Yet in our time such is the ignorance of people that they accuse the Church of teaching what she condemned as worse than heresy seven hundred years ago.

WHAT SHALL CHILDREN BE TAUGHT?

To many it comes as a shock that priests should now recommend Catholic children being taught the “facts of life.” They contrast with this present attitude of the priests an older point of view which advocated the reverse, which was in favour of reticence, silence, and leaving the children in ignorance of what life later really implied. But, though older people are thus disconcerted by a change of policy in priests, they ought certainly to recognize that it is demanded now since the world, too, is changed. In older days it was possible, perhaps, to pursue a policy of silence, because children could probably, in very many instances, grow up sheltered from any danger, and did not very much need to know about themselves. Certainly what was once true about this is no longer possible. It is impossible at present for children or anyone to escape the flaunting evidences of sex and sex-appeal. They cannot walk down the road and see the posters on the hoardings, or turn over the advertisement pages of respectable magazines, or read ordinary books, or go to the movies, or watch T.V. without being faced with all sorts of things that are plainly an exploitation of our human interest or curiosity in what is least for our good. It may be argued, on the other hand, that a child sees no harm in these things, misses the spice of evil; yes, at first this is true, but gradually the weight of the obsession of sex must move them to enquire at last what it is all about, what these references mean which they do not understand but which interest grown-up people, what it is that provokes so easily a laugh among the older members of the audience. Sex is the god whom the world worships even more than it worships mammon, and it is a god whose claims are insistent and terrible, and without respite, and whose slime is over all.

But if the world is like this, then children have to be educated to meet it. It is not the world of our heart’s desire that they are entering, have entered; it is this actual world. Now education is at least a preparation for life, has at least to fit children for life. Since this is the life they have to encounter, it is as well that they should be gradually prepared to meet it, be informed about it, i.e., this actual world.

To repeat, we do not praise this present fashion of sex-insistence. We believe that its arguments are false. We disbelieve the principle that the only way to make the idea of sex normal and natural is to talk about it. This generation has talked about it enough, but does not yet seem to have got it normal or natural. It is obsessed by it, in its literature, its drama, its art. It is not in the least normal, it is definitely abnormal about it. Any psycho-analyst would be the first to agree with this. It may be true that the studied silence of the Victorians on the matter of sex provoked a morbid curiosity that created worse trouble. But there is no necessity to exchange that untruthful attitude to sex problems for an attitude which is equally unwholesome and insincere.

It is insincere for the folk of our time to tell us, for instance, that there is never any harm in knowledge. It all depends upon the matter of knowledge. There is obviously no harm in anyone knowing geography or history or mathematics or French irregular verbs; but knowledge about the human body and its purposes may very easily be harmful. It depends on how it is given and who gives it. We are obviously inflammable on the point of this particular knowledge. It can hurt our waking reveries and our dreams.

But this is our very reason for saying that, because knowledge can be harmful, children ought to be gradually given it individually and in such doses as they can understand without hurt. They must learn this knowledge one day; the question is from whom. Shall they learn it from lips that will speak of it with seemly reverence, or shall they learn it from those on whose lips it will be an unclean jest? Not indeed in a class, for children cannot be graded in this knowledge as they can be in other knowledge. This must be given individually by someone who knows intimately the particular child’s mind, feeling his way delicately, careful not to be too revealing, too gross, yet to be clear and explicit, not to wrap up ideas in too mysterious a fashion, yet, however, not to hurt the sensitive, unwounded mind of the child.

Even so it happens that children often know more than those who think they understand them could have guessed; a child is secretive, especially in this matter. But if a child is ignorant, it does not follow that there has been no hurt. Even if no one has told him (and he is always liable to be told by anyone, by another child, or a stray acquaintance, a boy, a grown man) he may begin habits that only later he discovers to be evil, later when he will find it much harder to break himself of what he has begun to do than if he had known at first.

Thus, apart altogether from knowledge communicated from outside, there is always a traitor within a man’s nature, since it is a fallen nature with a bias wards evil.

We urge, then, that children should be taught about life, and that they should be taught this by their parents, father or mother. These are the proper persons to tell the child, for they have the responsibility of parenthood; also they ought to know their children and therefore know just how much can be told them, better than anyone else can. Moreover, they are in primary charge of the education of their children, and this is part of that education and not an inconsiderable part. Perhaps the whole of their life will be coloured by what they learn now, and when, and from whom they learn it.

But parents will say that they hate having to do this. To which we would reply that hating to do one’s duty is never an excuse for not doing it. Moreover, if, on the contrary, they liked talking about these things, this would hardly mean that they were any better fitted to do it nor likely to do it any more reverently. Sometimes parents will reply that their way of doing this is not to talk of these things directly, but that they give their children pets to look after, and thus teach them indirectly. But this is a poorer way. It is poorer to begin with the lowest, the animals. It is better to begin with the highest, to begin with man. After all, father and mother know the beauty of love, or should do so. Why not start with their own case and what it means, and how human love was divinely designed in itself and in its expression and what came of it, and how the child himself was framed out of love, and came through love and it the fruit of love’s expression?

Indeed, we have a higher example, too, by which to teach children, since their baby lips have early formed the phrase, “the fruit of thy womb.” In telling them the story of the Incarnation they can thus learn its beauty, its humility, its depth of meaning. Thus, too, the way Christ came, His virginal birth, the contrast between this and other children’s coming can be shown so as to show also the blessing which His coming gave to all birth and lawful loves.

THE SUCCESS OF MOTHERHOOD

Evidently the success of a mother is proved only in her discharge of her duties as a mother. If she fails in this she fails in everything else. She may succeed socially or publicly in other matters, but if she fails here she has failed where her first obligation lay, and where also her future happiness has most in store. Nothing can compensate her, especially in her later years, for what she has failed to do in her mothering of her children. Hence, any wise mother will sacrifice any career of her own for the sake of her children; the children and their children afterwards will give her a nobler, richer, more human, more inspiring old age than anything else can give her. Moreover, the world has many others who will do the work she surrenders for them. Others who have not her ties will do the public work in her place. But no one else can do her mothering for her. If she does not do it, it will not be done.

But if, after all, her children fail her afterwards? Indeed must they not always fail her? Must not her dreams of them be always greater than they can make come true? They cannot reach the heights she imagines them capable of reaching; but because she thinks them capable of reaching impossible heights they will be able to climb nearer to them than they would have done had she not believed.

But even if they fail her she must not fail them. However they fail in life, in good life, in faith, in all, her love must never slacken, nor her sympathy be less. Always she must show them sympathy. Others may be obliged to refuse contact with them, never she. She must always be their home; her heart their hearth, her love their welcome, her belief in them their inspiration, their return to her a symbol of another return. “Even if the mother forget her child, yet will not I forget.” What a reverence in His voice, for mothers. Even if the mother forget, even if. . . .

Nihil Obstat:

PERCY JONES, Censor Diocesan

Imprimatur:

@D Mannix,

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis

June, 1958

********

The Catholic Revival In England

(1830–1850)

BY PROFESSOR DENIS GWYNN

INDEX

(University College, Cork)

I

AS the title of one of Newman’s most famous sermons, the phrase “The Second Spring” has been associated par—ticularly with the part played by the Oxford converts in the Catholic revival in England, during the years which closely preceded the restoration of the Hierarchy in 1850. For that reason there has been widespread misunderstanding of the causes which actually produced the restoration of the Hierarchy. Newman’s personal contribution has been exaggerated to an extent that he would certainly have deplored. Although Newman was the most outstanding of the converts from the Church of England who had become Catholics in the previous years, their accession was only one of the factors which decided the Holy See to establish a properly constituted Hierarchy. It had been found necessary to supersede the former arrangements under which the powers and authority of the Vicars Apostolic were utterly inadequate to cope with the immense and rapid changes which had been developing within the previous twenty years.

A number of compelling reasons had made it imperative to restore a hierarchy; and negotiations for such a restoration had been proceeding for a long time. The conversion of Newman and many of his followers was undoubtedly an important factor in hastening the decision. The Tractarian Movement, which had brought about an active revival of Catholic practices and of Catholic doctrines within the Church of England, had begun in 1833 and had aroused intense controversy. It had been inspired chiefly by the series of Tracts for the Times which were edited and largely written by John Henry Newman while he was vicar of St. Mary’s at Oxford and a tutor in Oriel College. But early in 1841 the Protestant opposition within the Established Church compelled Newman to discontinue publication of the Tracts. He then retired to lead a life of almost monastic seclusion, with a few of his young disciples, at the hermitage which he built at Littlemore on the outskirts of Oxford. After four years during which he refrained from all public controversy, he decided in October 1845 to be received into the Catholic Church. By that time a number of his friends had already become Catholics. The news of his conversion influenced many more of his friends and admirers to become Catholics also. Before long a considerable number of former Anglican clergymen had followed his example. Some of them were left in a pitiable position, with their families deprived of livelihood; others, like Newman himself, were preparing for ordination as Catholic priests. Manning and a good many other celebrated converts did not follow Newman’s lead until some years afterwards, when various events had convinced them that their position as Anglo-Catholics had become untenable.

In the same year, 1845, another factor of vastly more widespread importance affected the revival of the Catholic Church in England. Immigration of Catholic labourers from Ireland had been proceeding with increasing impetus since the end of the Napoleonic wars, with the rapid expansion of industries and shipping while the industrial revolution was in full swing. The Catholic population had grown so fast that in 1840 the Holy See had found it necessary to double the number of Vicars Apostolic to England, creating eight Districts instead of four, so as to provide for the organisation of new missions and churches. But in 1845 and the following years the immigration from Ireland assumed immense proportions. The potato crop, upon which the Irish poor depended for their food as completely as the Indians depended upon rice, failed suddenly with the arrival of blight, as an unknown disease, of which neither the cause nor the remedy had yet been discovered. Famine became widespread when the winter set in; and in 1846 and again in 1847, the potato blight returned more virulently and more extensively than in 1845. Starvation and cholera spread death through the whole country on an appalling scale, and a mass exodus from Ireland began. Most of the emigration was directed at first towards England, and later to America and Australia. Within those next few years the Catholic population of England and Wales, which had been barely 300,000 until then, was suddenly increased by about a million refugees from the Irish famine, most of them being destitute and in search of employment and food and shelter.

This sudden and overwhelming increase of Catholic population created conditions which required far more priests and churches and schools than had ever been contemplated before. The four Vicars Apostolic, with their vast Districts and thinly-scattered Catholic populations, had been unable to cope with the growing numbers of their flocks. There were now eight Vicars Apostolic since 1840; but a mere increase in the number of bishops would have been no remedy in itself. The Vicars Apostolic had for years found the utmost difficulty in providing for this constant expansion, because they lacked the authority to create parishes or even to appoint and transfer such priests as were at work in England. A large proportion of the clergy were still dependent for their maintenance upon the old Catholic families who had maintained private chapels in their isolated country houses through the centuries of penal laws. Many more of the clergy were Regulars- Benedictines and Jesuits and Franciscans particularly-who, whether they lived in communities or separately on the missions, were under the direct control of their own superiors.

These problems had been constantly discussed and considered in Rome, and the proposal to restore a fully constituted hierarchy had been under consideration for years. But there were many obstacles to overcome. The Government would almost certainly oppose such action by the Holy See; even after the Catholic Emancipation Act of 1829, which had at last allowed Catholics to sit in Parliament. There had been other concessions also, of which perhaps the most important was the acquiescence of the Government in the Holy See’s desire to establish a hierarchy in Australia. That had been regarded as an invaluable help towards developing social order and civil life. But the Holy See considered that in England and Wales the recent doubling of the number of Vicars Apostolic was likely to suffice for the time being. There had been real difficulty in finding priests of sufficient training and personal qualifications to fill the eight vicariates.

II

47, there had been a remarkable revival of Catholic life in England since the Emancipation Act. It had arisen in various forms; and the conversion of Newman and his friends, as the outcome of the Tractarian Movement, was only one symptom of religious renewal. Moreover, this revival during the twenty years before the actual restoration of the Hierarchy had produced a leader of outstanding gifts and energy, who had long experience in Rome, and who was considered capable of becoming head of the new Hierarchy. The story of that revival in its various aspects during the twenty years between the Emancipation Act and 1850 is the subject of this pamphlet. It covers roughly twenty years, which may be divided naturally into a succession of five-year periods, each marking the culmination of a new phase.

The first phase is mainly centred in Rome in the early “thirties. A curiously mixed group of Englishmen, who were to play a decisive part in all that followed, were almost accidentally congregated there at the same time. In England, since the Emancipation Act of 1829 had removed the long injustice which prevented Catholics from entering Parliament, a very small number of country gentlemen had been elected to the House of Commons. The House of Lords had also been opened to a rather larger number of Catholic peers, including the Duke of Norfolk and the Earl of Shrewsbury. But there was very little sign of any general intention to take a prominent part in public life; and the tradition of seclusion and of avoiding religious controversy still persisted strongly among the older Catholics.

In Rome, however, new forces were stirring. The Emancipation Act had been forced through Parliament, against the determined opposition of King George IV, simply as a result of O”Connell’s overwhelming Catholic agitation in Ireland. But the Act was regarded in Rome as a sign of growing toleration by the English Government, which had been evident in various other ways for sometime past. Since 1818 the English College in Rome, which had been pillaged by Napoleon’s army of occupation, had been reopened after the end of the Napoleonic wars. One of its first students in the new conditions had been a brilliant young Irish scholastic, Nicholas Wiseman, who had come out to Rome from Ushaw. He had won many academic distinctions, and had even become professor of Oriental Languages at the Roman University, before he was promoted at the age of twenty-six to be rector of the English College in 1828. One of his first official duties had been to call upon the Pope and announce the news of the Emancipation Act. As a gesture of gratitude and of reconciliation the Pope had decided to appoint an English Cardinal in curia; and Cardinal Weld, a widower who had been ordained late in life, was now established in Rome as the recognised spokesman for all English affairs.

Religious revival had become one of the most striking symptoms of the new age since peace returned to Europe; and there were many direct links between Rome and England which aroused a real interest in the question of England’s future restoration to Catholic unity. Pope Leo XII had given special encouragement to the resuscitated English College, and to its young rector who had become a conspicuous figure in Roman life. He had arranged for special sermons in English in one of the great Roman churches, and had even appointed a choir for such occasions. Young Mgr. Wiseman was one of the chosen preachers. Another was Bishop Baines, the coadjutor Vicar Apostolic of the Western District, who had come for a prolonged visit to Rome because of a temporary breakdown in health. Bishop Baines was much the most vivid figure among the English bishops and he had recently embarked on an extremely ambitious enterprise which suggested that the English Catholics intended to assert themselves much more openly. He had bought at Bath the palatial mansion of Prior Park, which he proposed to utilise both as his official residence and as a seminary, besides providing a fully equipped college for the sons of the Catholic gentry. His ideas expanded further; and after meeting Wiseman he decided to invite him to Prior Park to become President of what should be a Catholic University in England. Pope Gregory XVI not only approved but gave permission for Wiseman to leave the English College while he tried the experiment.

Besides these ecclesiastical figures, there were in Rome also a number of other Englishmen who were to exert great influence before long. Convert clergymen from the Church of England were still a very rare phenomenon, but two of them had recently arrived in Rome. One was an Old baronet from Cornwall, Sir Harry Trelawney, who had applied, like Cardinal Weld, for a dispensation as a widower to be ordained late in life. He had already established a mission at his home, Trelawney Castle, and he was looking for priests to help him there. Another, much younger, convert clergyman, the Rev. George Spencer, had also come to study under Wiseman at the English College, in 1830. He was a son of the second Earl Spencer who had been Home Secretary in the “Ministry of All the Talents” (1806–07); and his elder brother, Lord Althorp, was soon to become Chancellor of the Exchequer. He had become a Catholic most unexpectedly through his friendship with young Mr. Ambrose Phillipps from Leicestershire, whose father had been for years Deputy Lieutenant and member of Parliament for his county. Phillipps himself had become a Catholic while he was still at school. He had gone on to Cambridge, where he met another gifted young convert, Kenelm Digby, who was already making a literary reputation by his writings on mediaeval chivalry.

These three young men, Spencer, Phillipps and Digby, had all come to Rome together, and there met Mgr. Wiseman who regarded them with rather amused surprise. They were introduced to old Sir Harry Trelawney; and by accident they all made the acquaintance of a humble Passionist priest, Father Dominic Barberi, who was then teaching at the principal house of his Order in Rome. He was of peasant stock, and unable to speak any language but Italian, but he confided to them that since his childhood he had dreamed that his life’s work would be as a missionary in England. The founder of the Passionists, who was not yet beatified and was still known as the Ven. Father Paul of the Cross, had also been strongly attracted by the idea of missionary work in England. But there could scarcely be a less likely missioner for England than Father Dominic, who became their confidant in Rome.

Yet Father Dominic believed that his dreams already seemed to be coming true, when he found not only convert clergymen studying for the Catholic priesthood, but so many signs of sympathy towards the Church among the English aristocracy. Young Phillipps was himself an important landed proprietor, and he was planning to found on his own estates the first Catholic monastery to be opened in England since the Reformation. He had just married Lord Clifford’s niece, and he was a close friend of the Earl of Shrewsbury, whom he had now inspired to employ his great wealth on building churches and reviving the glories of Catholic liturgy in England. Young Mr. Spencer was the son of another Earl; Sir Harry Trelawney was a baronet with ancestral estates. And among other recent converts, he heard of the young genius, Augustus Welby Pugin, whose religious work as an architect was soon to make him the pioneer of the Gothic revival in England. Pugin had been discovered as a boy prodigy by Lord Shrewsbury; and he and his patron and young Ambrose Phillipps intended to devote their lives to the revival of Catholic art and church building in England.

Besides Father Dominic Barberi there was another young Italian priest in Rome, who was similarly attracted towards the apostolate in England. Luigi Gentili had been a young barrister of great promise, well known in Roman society, and specially conspicuous among the many English visitors and residents there. He had suddenly retired from social life and gone to live at the Irish College, to study for the priesthood as a disciple of Father Rosmini in his newly-founded Institute of Charity. Rosmini, as well as Gentili, had thought intensely about England as a field for missionary work; and he, too, had many English friends. Before long, the group separated. Sir Harry Trelawney died soon after his ordination, before he could return home. Father Dominic was made Passionist provincial in northern Italy. Ambrose Phillipps went home to arrange for bringing the Trappists to his new monastery in Charnwood Forest. Bishop Baines returned to Bath and Prior Park. And George Spencer went back to England to begin work under most discouraging conditions as a pioneer in the growing industrial centres around Birmingham.

Wiseman at the English College had been absorbed in his Roman duties, but his conversations with these strange visitors, and his personal contact with the leaders of the Catholic revival in France and Germany and Italy, had awakened him to the undoubted possibilities at home. He had been impressed particularly by a visit in 1833 from two earnest young dons from Oxford, John Henry Newman and Richard Hurrell Froude, who had called upon him to enquire about the possibilities of reunion between the English and the Roman Churches. They had gone back to England, and almost immediately afterwards Newman had begun publishing his Tracts for the Times, which were to produce an astonishing revival of fervour among many of the younger Anglicans.

The invitation from Bishop Baines to become president of a new Catholic university at Prior Park was so attractive in these circumstances that Wiseman set out in 1835 on a journey of investigation. He arrived at Bath expecting to conclude arrangements quickly with Bishop Baines. But their views did not coincide, and the idea was dropped at once. So he turned elsewhere and spent nearly a whole year in England, going from place to place and noting his impressions. He was so distinguished and so vital a personality that his visit had a wide and lasting influence. In London he preached two series of public lectures, drawing audiences which included many of the most eminent men of the time. And before he went back to Rome he had accepted Daniel O”Connell’s invitation to found and edit a new Catholic quarterly, to be called the Dublin Review, which should be a platform for Catholic controversy and scholarship. The first number appeared in May, 1836.

III

On his return to Rome that autumn, Wiseman was a changed man. He was absorbed henceforward in his plans for work in England, as part of the general Catholic revival which was proceeding all over Europe. His friends included such famous Catholics as Lacordaire and Montalembert and Frederic Ozanam, besides Doellinger and Goerres and many leaders of Catholic activity in Italy. He had acquired a close knowledge of Catholic progress in England, because he was agent for all the English Vicars Apostolic and also for some of the American bishops. He had been impressed in England partly by the extreme conservatism and caution of the older Catholics, and partly by the unexpected signs of rapid Catholic expansion in the new industrial areas. His letters contain vivid descriptions of the opening of new churches in the north and in the Midlands, of the sudden growth of Catholic numbers through immigration from Ireland, and of the indications of a new confidence which produced public devotions and processions in the streets such as had been unimaginable before. Not least he had been surprised by the steady flow of converts who were coming into the Church in most unlikely places.

As agent for the Vicars Apostolic, he could urge strongly the necessity for greater authority in meeting the demands of the new conditions. Until 1840 there were only four Vicars Apostolic for the whole country; and, except Bishop Baines, the bishops all lived in small secluded houses, without even secretaries to write their letters for them. The London District included the whole south-east of England. The Western District included Wales as well as the West country. The Midland District included all East Anglia, besides the central counties which were beginning to develop rapidly with the industrial revival. The Vicar Apostolic of the Northern District was more burdened even than the others; not merely because Lancashire and Yorkshire had always contained the largest remnant of Catholic population, but especially because of the vast immigration from Ireland which was chiefly attracted to the new northern cities.

In 1840 the Holy See decided that a decisive change must be made to provide for these new conditions. The four old Vicariates were accordingly divided among eight Vicars Apostolic. The London District was affected least, and only Bedfordshire and Buckinghamshire were taken from it. They were made part of the new Eastern District, which included all East Anglia, where Catholics were still extremely few. The Midland District was divided into two parts. Most of its territory went to the new Eastern District; while Bishop Walsh retained the important areas round Birmingham and Staffordshire, and down to the Thames at Oxford and Windsor. The huge Western District was similarly split in two. It lost Wales, which became a separate District, containing even fewer Catholics than did the Eastern District. In the north there were to be three Districts instead of only one. Yorkshire became a separate District, and Lancashire another; while the new Northern District comprised Northumberland, Durham and Cumberland.

Besides providing this fuller organisation of the whole country, the Holy See took the further step of sending Mgr. Wiseman back to England as coadjutor to Bishop Walsh in the Central District. He was also to be President of the seminary at Oscott, which had recently been greatly enlarged. Wiseman’s appointment was specially important, not only because of his personal reputation and his great energy and gifts as a controversialist and as a public figure. The Central District, where he was to assist Bishop Walsh, included Oxford, where the Tractarian Movement had become so powerful an influence in arousing sympathies with the Catholic revival. Wiseman had been deeply impressed by the sincerity of Newman and his friends, and he came to England in the autumn of 1840, hoping to establish close personal contact between Oscott and Oxford. His hopes were, however, disappointed almost at once.

He found on his arrival that an article which he had published in the Dublin Review had created a profound impression at Oxford. It had shaken Newman’s confidence in his own convictions that the Anglican Church was the ideal compromise between the Protestant and Catholic churches, and that it retained the true marks of Catholic unity, while correcting the abuses which had arisen before the Reformation. Wiseman’s criticisms had shaken Newman’s faith in this comfortable theory; and very soon afterwards Newman was assailed within the Church of England by an organised attack which compelled him early in 1841, to cease publication of the Tracts. Before long he withdrew from all further active controversy, and went to live in seclusion at Littlemore, pursuing his studies of the Fathers of the Church.

Wiseman had hoped at first that his own efforts to arouse a Catholic revival would proceed side by side with the Anglo-Catholic movement; and that great results might be achieved by promoting close relations between the two movements. But while he was rebuffed by Newman and his friends he found astonishing progress on the Catholic side. The influence of Lord Shrewsbury and Pugin and their young friend Ambrose Phillipps had stimulated church building on a scale which astonished everybody. Birmingham was actually building the first cathedral in England since the Reformation. All through the Midlands and the north, noble churches of every size were arising. London was following suit with plans for a new cathedral at Southwark. Moreover, the Italian missionaries, whom they had all known earlier in Rome, had almost miraculously arrived in England and were producing most surprising results. There was, inevitably, some conflict between these different forces. Pugin and his friends held that all church building must be in the Gothic manner, while the Italian missionaries, and also Wiseman to some extent, desired to introduce Roman practices which the older English clergy regarded as unsuitable in England.

Father Gentili had come first to teach at Prior Park, but afterwards went to Leicestershire, where he had a free hand, as chaplain to Ambrose Phillipps, in evangelising the remote villages in the county where the Church had been almost unknown. Even Father Dominic Barberi had succeeded in coming to England. He, too, was starting work as a pioneer under appalling difficulties in the Potteries. The success of these foreign missionaries was beyond all expectation. They were attempting to make converts openly, without regard for Protestant opposition. News of their achievements and of their sufferings from insult and outrage, as they preached openly in Protestant towns, began to reach unlikely places. It impressed Newman and his friends at Littlemore particularly. Newman’s chief antipathy to the Catholic Church had been towards its political associations, and what he regarded as its methods of intrigue and its hostility to other churches. But he found now that actually in England there were humble and ascetic missionaries doing exactly what he had reproached the Church for not doing before. They were going barefooted into our industrial towns and preaching to the people like St. Francis Xavier.” They were being insulted and reviled, yet persevering. They “were doing what he had said openly that the Anglican Church was unable to do, and what he would always respect deeply if he could see it done. And it was the bumble but devoted Italian Father Dominic who received his submission late one night at Littlemore in October, 1845, when he had cut himself deliberately off from all contact with the Catholic clergy who had sought to know him.

In the five years before Newman’s submission, Wiseman had been almost alone in England in proclaiming his faith in the sincerity of Newman and his friends. He had been derided and distrusted for his sympathy with them. He had been accused of encouraging them to remain in the Established Church, and of undermining Catholic loyalty by his refusal to denounce them as timid and halfhearted opportunists. But Newman’s surrender enhanced Wiseman’s reputation at once. He became thenceforward the chief protector and supporter of the convert clergymen, who became Catholics in large numbers. He threw his energy and enthusiasm into finding work for them and welcoming them as an accession to the Catholic clergy.

IV

But while Newman and his friends had perturbed the Church of England by their secession to Rome, a vastly greater development arose with the sudden influx of destitute Irish immigrants. They swarmed into the seaports and the industrial cities which were expanding so rapidly, and providing almost unlimited scope for cheap labour in the factories and the mines and the docks. Even before 1845, Father Dominic and Father Gentili were receiving urgent requests from every side to give public missions in districts where churches did not yet exist, and where thousands of destitute and demoralised Irish Catholics had come in search of work. Manchester had not 50 Catholics at the beginning of the century; but it had already become the centre of a vast Catholic population of some 100,000. Liverpool became still more a centre of Catholic immigration while the famine spread desolation and starvation in Ireland. Birmingham and London, as well as northern cities like Sheffield and Newcastle, were faced with similar urgent needs for priests and schools and churches.

The problem had passed beyond the capacity of individual priests. Religious orders of priests and brothers and nuns were brought from all sides wherever they could be found for the purpose. Large numbers of priests from Ireland came in to help their own people, while missionaries of various orders from abroad were brought in also. But the position remained chaotic while the Vicars Apostolic were still without adequate authority or powers. They could not establish organised parishes; and they had little control even over the parochial clergy, while the religious orders were naturally under the direction of their own superiors.

The need for a regular Hierarchy became so pressing that discussions were undertaken vigorously in Rome. Among the younger priests who had taken a leading part in the revival and in organising the new conditions was the Benedictine Father Ullathorne. He had recently returned from Australia, where he had been a most vigorous and effective vicar general to Bishop Polding. Conditions in Australia also had become chaotic, with sudden development and immigration. Even the Government had requested that steps should be taken to provide a solid organisation of Catholic religious life. Ullathorne himself had played a large part in the negotiations which resulted in establishing an Australian Hierarchy, and he had with difficulty refused the appointment to several of the new Australian Sees. His refusal had been permitted only because he was himself designated as a future bishop for an English see; and when Bishop Baines died in 1847, he was appointed to the Western District.

To apply the same remedies in England as in Australia was the obvious solution. But there were many difficulties to surmount. -Wiseman’s personal influence both in Rome and in London went far towards overcoming the official difficulties; but he was only a coadjutor in the Midlands. There was still no outstanding personality among the Vicars Apostolic to assume the leadership of a new Hierarchy. Wiseman himself was the most gifted and most distinguished bishop in England, but he had been widely distrusted by the older clergy both for his Roman training-which they regarded as foreign to English ideas-and because of his encouragement of Newman and the convert clergy. One of his chief critics was Bishop Griffiths in London, who was still comparatively young and, as bishop in London, could scarcely be passed over in the selection of a leader for a new Hierarchy. Apart from these personal factors, and the possibility of opposition by the Government, the principle had been generally accepted, both in Rome and in England, when in 1848 the outbreak of revolution in Rome compelled Pope Pius IX to flee to Gaeta.

For two years the question was thrown back into abeyance; while the Irish immigrants continued to flock into the English industrial areas, and while the accession of converts increased steadily. Newman had been ordained as a priest in Rome in 1847, and the problem of finding full scope for him and his friends was still largely unsolved. But a big step had been taken, after the sudden death of Bishop Griffiths in London, in 1847, which had left the way clear for a new appointment. Rome had decided that Wiseman must go there sooner or later as Vicar Apostolic, so that he should occupy the position which must lead to his nomination as head of a new Hierarchy. He was therefore appointed acting Vicar Apostolic in London for a short period. As coadjutor to Bishop Walsh of the Central District he had been connected with the most notable developments of the revival. It was Bishop Walsh who had given full scope and encouragement to Ambrose Phillipps and Lord Shrewsbury and Pugin in their church building and their revival of the liturgy. In his District the first Catholic cathedral had been built in Birmingham, besides many other fine churches. It was he who had brought in the Italian missionaries. Not least it was he who had brought Wiseman back to England, and given him a free hand in his relations with Newman and the Oxford converts.

Notwithstanding his age and infirmity, Bishop Walsh was accordingly transferred to London as Vicar Apostolic, with Wiseman again as his coadjutor. And when the bishop died in 1849, although opposition to Wiseman still persisted strongly, Wiseman succeeded him definitely as Vicar Apostolic in London, and continued vigorously his work of stimulating and organising the Catholic revival. In the summer of 1850, after the Pope had been able to return to Rome from exile, the question was opened again and a decision was soon reached. Even Wiseman did not realise how spectacular the Pope’s decision was to be. When he received word that he was to be made Cardinal, he believed sadly that his efforts in England were thereby to be brought to an end at once. He assumed that he was being recalled to Rome as a Cardinal in Curia, to be the Pope’s resident adviser on English affairs; and that the teeming activities with which he had been so closely connected were to be carried on without him.

It had been a wrench for him when he had left Rome for England ten years earlier, after many years of happy and fruitful activity there. His return to Rome to receive the Cardinal’s hat was a still greater wrench, after all that he had accomplished in the interval. Not until he reached Rome and saw the Pope did he realise that he was to be not only the first head of a restored Hierarchy but a Cardinal Archbishop of Westminster. The appointment was the fulfilment of years of hope and striving, and the added dignity of being a Cardinal resident in England gave him a deep sense of gratitude to the Holy See, for its recognition of the Catholic revival which he had helped to organise.

With a full sense of all that was involved in this sudden restoration of the Church in England to its former position in Christendom, Wiseman wrote out a long pastoral letter which he forwarded to London before he could reach home. He had a triumphal progress through all the principal Catholic capitals on his journey. In his flamboyant pastoral he gave full vent to his gratitude and his sanguine enthusiasm. It was read out in the churches, at the end of October, before his return, and the result was a storm of public protests in the English newspapers, which began with a broadside from the London Times, and gathered such momentum that both the Prime Minister Lord John Russell, and the Lord Chancellor, Lord Campbell, joined in a chorus of indignation against what was called the “Papal Aggression.” Popular feeling had been so inflamed that the Guy Fawkes” celebrations, on November 5th, acquired a special character of outraged protest. Effigies of the Pope, of Cardinal Wiseman and of the twelve new bishops, were publicly burned amid scenes of jubilation in many places. There were such fears of a repetition of the Gordon Riots against all Catholic buildings, or at the least of personal violence against Wiseman himself, that some of his friends hurried across the Channel to urge him to stay abroad until the excitement had died down.

It was characteristic of his courage and his ardent faith that he returned immediately to London and went openly to the new St. George’s Church in Southwark, defying all hostility and disarming his opponents by his personal sincerity and distinction. Within a few days he had composed a long Address to the People of England which appealed to their instinct of fair play, and revealed a true appreciation of their character. Its eloquence and irony, combined with its shattering exposure of the injustice with which Catholics had been treated, won him such respect and admiration that the reaction in his favour gave a new impetus to the Catholic revival. The attack upon the Hierarchy had been so ignorant and unfair that it shook Manning particularly. He had become the leader of the AngloCatholic party since Newman’s surrender five years before. He and his friends were faced with a new crisis by the Gorham Judgment, in which the Judicial Committee of the Privy Council decided that Mr. Gorham must be appointed to a parish, although he denied the doctrine of baptismal regeneration. Manning himself was received as a Catholic within a few months afterwards. In time Manning became Provost of the Chapter of Westminster and successor to Wiseman as Archbishop of Westminster, and in many ways the most powerful organiser of the revival during the later Victorian period. Newman, too, was spurred to compose his lectures in Birmingham on the Present Condition of Catholics in England, which had an immense influence on public opinion. They brought him overwhelming proofs of Catholic confidence in him, after he had been prosecuted for criminal libel by the apostate Father Achilli, whose disgraceful record he had exposed.

The new era had begun in earnest. It fell to the young Cardinal Archbishop to draw up the new constitution of the Church under its restored Hierarchy, and to preside over the first Synod, at which both Manning and Newman were among the chosen preachers. Wiseman’s chief contribution hitherto had been his encouragement of the converts, when they had been suspect and despised in other quarters. In the short time that remained to him, before he became crippled and undermined by diabetes during the last years before his death in 1865, he was to lay the foundations and construct the solid framework from which the whole subsequent revival of the Church in England was to expand. The part played by Newman and Manning in the following years is well known and recognised. But justice has scarcely been done either to Wiseman or to the great organising work and the spiritual leadership of Ullathorne in the Midlands. Seventy-five years after the restoration of the Hierarchy in 1850, a masterly appreciation of all their labours was set down by that great scholar and biographer, Abbot Butler, in the concluding chapter of his Life of Ullathorne. Writing in 1925 he gave his final impressions as follows: “After reading again and again, and maturely pondering over the materials collected for the Lives of the four great churchmen, Wiseman, Manning, Newman and Ullathorne, the impression finally and clearly graven on my mind is that, taken all in all, Wiseman stands out as the greatest. He was not the deep acute thinker that Newman was; nor the masterful resourceful man of affairs that Manning was; nor had he the sound practical grip of men and things that Ullathorne had: but in the combination of richly endowed nature, and attractive loveable personality, and well-balanced all-round character, and many-sided intellectual attainments, and successful achievement of a great lifework, in short as a complete man, he surpassed them all.”

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The Catholic That Was. . . . . . And Is No More

ARCHBISHOP GOODIER, S. J

INDEX

1 INTRODUCTION

No one who has once realised what it is to be a Catholic can feel anything but sadness for one who has lost the Catholic faith, who once was a Catholic and is now a Catholic no more, no matter what may have been the reason.

It is sad enough to know so many who, through no fault of their own, have not the Catholic faith; whose forefathers lost it for them, and deprived them of their inheritance; who do not know, and have never known, all that it means.

But one who has once known it and has lost it, who has been argued or cajoled out of it, whose life has led him to drop it, who has been careless and let it go, who has surrendered it for something else,-those who know and love such a one, know also that he has lost, thrown away, something for which nothing else can compensate, something more dear than life itself.

Let, then, such a one not be surprised if those who love him are troubled and sad about him; they cannot help it. They long to give him back what he has lost; they spare no pains that he may be as he was before; they look on that reward as worth all the labour and suffering it may entail.

2. The Catholic no more

Who are they, and how has it all come about?

First, there are the children: who have never learnt to appreciate the value or beauty of their inheritance; or whose parents have set them a sorry example and so spoilt them; or who have learnt their religion as a schoolroom lesson only and it has withered; or who have never seen that it mattered much one way or the other.

Second, there are young boys and girls: who have been deluded by the prospect of a happy and free life before them. or who have lived among godless companions, and through shame, through human respect, through banter, through a little coaxing, through temptation, perhaps through sin, have become as they; or who have been carried away by their surroundings, and the faith of their childhood has been ignored or forgotten, and finally rejected.

Third, there are young men and women: whose study and, reading, it may be, in the days when they were not yet mature, nor able to form a proper judgment, has led them to wonder, to doubt, at last to be dissatisfied and turn away; or who have come under some influence stronger than themselves, and they have surrendered; some unbelieving teacher or friend, whose arguments they could not answer; some man or woman whom they have loved, and who has made them sacrifice their faith for that love some companion who has led them on, till they have lost the reality for the shadow; or who have found the practice of the faith a hindrance to their ambition in life; to promotion, to association with those who would help them, to the use of such means as their faith will not allow.

Fourth, there are the grown-up: who are married, and who find the laws of their faith concerning married life a burden; or who, having once, slipped away, or having been away so long, are unable to bring themselves back, and prefer to remain where they are; or who have been antagonised by some opposition, by some scandal, by some regulation, which they have resented. Fifth, and last, among all these classes, among young and old, there are those, whom, in a proud and passionate moment, selfwill has mastered, and they have said: “I will not serve”; or whom this world with its false fascination has mastered, and they have said: “I will have here my “reward”; or whom sin and passion have conquered, and they hardened conscience and said: “I will be free, I will have my own way, I will do my own pleasure.”

3. The Defence

Once the step has been taken it is easy to find reasons to defend it, but the reasons given are seldom those which have brought it about; to say, for instance, that to have any religion, or not to have it, makes very little difference in practice; that one knows many who have no religion, yet are far better than many who have; that one knows many religious people who are among the most uncharitable, the most unscrupulous, even the most wicked, of all their acquaintance.

It is easy, again, to tell oneself, that if one has lost the faith the fault has not been one’s own; or that one has got on very well without it, and therefore it cannot be necessary; or that one does not see why one should have to keep all these rules and regulations, while others do not and yet are quite sufficiently good.

It is easy to say, that religion is all very well for good people, or for those who live in good and Catholic surroundings, or for those who have strong and independent characters; but as for them, they are just ordinary, they must conform to those with whom they live, they must be like those amongst whom, after all, God has placed them; that there are much better men than their priests, more educated, more learned, more scientific, deeper thinkers, etc., who have no use for religion, who say it is not necessary; that it is mostly superstition, which the present generation has outgrown; that it is a bondage, a hindrance to liberty and progress; that God cannot have made life practically impossible; by giving us passions which we cannot conquer yet may not indulge; by putting us in intolerable positions unless we disobey His laws; by making it so hard to serve Him under the conditions in which we have been placed.

It is easy, finally, to be defiant and say, that one’s religion is one’s own affair, and one is not going to be dictated to by anybody; that all that is said about the next world, eternal punishment and eternal reward, may or may not be true, and one will run the risk; that God, if He is what Catholics say He is, is forgiving and merciful, and will show mercy to one who does not know any better; that at any rate there is plenty of time, and one can think about these things later; meanwhile one has one’s own life to live, and must get out of it as much as one can.

4. The Misjudgment

Such as these are the arguments by which those who were once Catholics and are Catholics no more will, if they ask themselves, usually defend their having given up. Of course there are some who never think at all about it, but it may be doubted whether their number is great. They have just lapsed and there they are, until someone or something wakes them up to what they have lost. Usually these find it easier to come back, from the simple fact that they have never really gone away; their minds have never been warped.

There are others, at the opposite extreme, who positively refuse to think about it; right or wrong, they have made up their minds to remain as they are and will not change. These are hardest to win back; obstinacy is hard to overcome, and obstinacy leads to hatred. Those who crucified Our Lord were of this kind; the Pharisees made up their minds to refuse Him, nothing would convince them, they went on to the grossest cruelty and injustice, all the. more because they knew in their hearts that they were wrong. And yet even for such as these Jesus prayed:

“Father, forgive them, for they do not realise what they do!”

But setting these two extremes aside, is there anything behind the arguments here used?

First of all it is clear that those who speak like this, and would gladly believe what they say, have no idea of what it is they have thrown aside, which is so manifest to us. Their faith is certainly no longer for them, what once, perhaps, it was, “the treasure of great price,” worth the sacrifice of everything else in the world.

They do not see that even in this life it is more valuable than anything else: that it gives them principles, and standards, and guidance, as to what is right and what is wrong, as to what is for the best and what is not, as to true happiness and false, which no other guidance can give them; that it gives them the means to making the best of themselves and their lives, the means to their own perfection, above every other guide; that it brings security, contentment, peace of mind, no matter what may be the trouble one may have to face.

They do not see: that to be what God wants them to be is a better and nobler thing than to be what man wants them to be, or even than what they want to be themselves; that the love of God is better than the love of man, and that to do a thing for the love of God is better than to do it for the love of man, still more than to do it for their own satisfaction; that the practice of the faith is not a matter of obeying rules and regulations; it is obeying the dictates of One, who loves us with an everlasting love, who would have us love Him in return, who has nothing at heart but our good. who knows, with infinite knowledge and wisdom, what is good for us, who binds us to Himself by His laws: and these laws are bound up in this: “Thou shalt love!” who has said: “If you love me, keep my commandments”; who has said: “If any man love me he will keep my word, and my Father will love him, and we will come to him, and will make our abode with him.”

They do not see, that freedom does not mean, and never could mean, doing exactly as we like; that freedom of this kind, freedom unrestrained, is licence; and licence in the end is self-degradation, and disillusionment, and misery, and ruin; that all true freedom requires the observance of some law, and that all law requires a sanction; that God is indeed infinitely merciful, but also He is infinitely just; infinitely loving, but also infinitely true that to disobey God, to set Him aside, to make Him of no account, is deliberately to reject His mercy, as well as to challenge His justice; to insult His love, as well as to defy His truth.

But surely they see, for it is only common sense, it is the lesson of experience, it is written on the lives of hundreds of so-called successful people, that nothing in this world can really satisfy a man, however much he may try, however much he may pretend to himself that he is content; that the heart of man always longs for something more, and only by forcing it to be content can it be silenced; that it will never be satisfied till it comes to God. This is what St Augustine discovered, after years of searching, of pleasure, of success: “Thou hast made us, O Lord, for thyself, and our hearts shall find no rest till they rest in thee!”

This is true of any thinking man; how much more of any man who believes wholly in God! Of any man who has faith, or who has once had it and thrown it away! For once one has seen, it can never again be as if one had not seen; a man who has known light and has gone blind is more to be pitied than one who has been born sightless. Such a man says:

That his present condition does not trouble him but is it not because he thinks only of the present, and he will not let himself think too far?

That his conscience does not worry him; but is not that because he will not let it speak? Because he is determined that it shall not be roused?

5. An Example

How many there are who envy Catholics their faith, who see that they have what they themselves have not, and would give anything to gain it!

It was on the battlefield; some officers were sitting round a fire in a tent after dark. There was to be a big engagement next day, and they knew very well that some at least among them would not be alive the night following. One of them, as he smoked his cigarette, carelessly asked the question: “What then?” There was a pause; one broke it.

“I don’t know. I have been brought up with no religion. I must die as I have lived. I must take my chance.

Another spoke. He said he believed in God, but did not know what else. If he were to die he trusted all would go well.

A third was asked what he had to say. “I was brought up a Roman Catholic, but I have given that up long ago.”

Immediately the first who had spoken stood up, and said with indignation:

“Then if there is a hell you deserve to go there. If I had been brought up with any faith at all, I would never have thrown it away.”

He strode out of the tent. Presently the ex-Catholic followed him. He knew very well what his companions were thinking of him, and he could endure it no longer. Before an hour was over he was in the chaplain’s hut, and made his peace with God. The next day both of those officers were killed.

So mercifully does God deal with those who will hear His voice; He will use the strangest means to win them back.

6. Remonstrance

There are some who are hard, and whom nothing will bend. To speak to them about the surrender they have made merely irritates them.

For these one can only wait and pray; some day, please God, they will know. If the faith has once been there, with prayer it can be re-awakened, above all if they will pray themselves.

But there are others, by far the majority, who know very well what they have lost, however much they try to make the best of it. For these we are most sorry; deep within they are the most unhappy people in the world.

They know it, and yet they remain where they are. They say:

“I cannot change now.

I have gone too far.

I cannot draw back.

I cannot get myself free.

I cannot do without these things, as St Augustine said to himself when he awoke and tried to put himself right.

I cannot hope to do better.

I have made my choice and must abide by it.

I cannot face the ordeal.

Confession is impossible.

To change before others is impossible: what will they say?

To revive the old practice of the faith is impossible.

At least I cannot do it now.

Perhaps I shall do it later.

At least I can do it at the end.” Such a one forgets with whom he is dealing. He forgets, the God who loves with an everlasting love, who sent His Son into the world that it might be saved through Him, who was the Friend of sinners, who laid down His life for sinners, who said: Come to me all you that labour and are burdened and I will refresh you, who said: You will not come to me that you may have life, who prayed for His enemies: Father, forgive them for they know not what they do, who said to one who repented, though his sign of repentance was no more than an appeal: Amen, I say to thee, this day thou shalt be with Me in paradise.

7. The Further Reason

For the Catholic that was, and is no more, we have said that we are sad, because he does not realise what he has thrown away.

He has thrown away Jesus Christ, and all that name means:

The friendship of Him who is above all men the greatest, the most lovable, the most inspiring;

The friendship of Him who has given up His all, who has done so much, who has suffered so much, to prove His love; The friendship of Him whose will is to draw the whole world to Himself and so save it from itself; The friendship of Him who is the Light of the world, who is the Way, the Truth, and the Life;

The friendship of Him in whose name alone this world, and all men in it, can be saved from their own corruption; The friendship of Him who has asked that men should help Him in the conquest, in the saving of the world; The friendship of Him who has proved His saving influence in the history of the world since He came The friendship of Him who is with the world still, in the world still, saving it in spite of itself;

The friendship of Him who has said: He who is not with me is against me, and he that gathereth not with me scattereth; The friendship of Him who has said: Where there are two or three gathered together in my name, there am I in the midst of them;

The friendship of Him who has said: Behold I am with you all days, even to the consummation of the world; The friendship of Him who has founded His Church, the Catholic Church, that in it the world may come together and be one;

The friendship of Him who abides with us in the Blessed Sacrament, our comrade, our food, our support; The friendship of Him who aloneis worthy of all a man’s love, whose love alone is above every other reward; The friendship of Him who has asked: Father, I will that where I am they also may be.

8 . The Following of Christ

“I am the light of the world. He that followeth me walketh not in darkness, but shall have the light of life.” Indeed it is true; if we choose to look we can see it about us every day, in the lives of men, women, and even children, in the lives even of nations.

Faith in Jesus Christ, love of Jesus Christ, standing with Jesus Christ, make other things a trifle: poverty becomes an honour, service a delight, suffering a glory, joy puts on a new significance and meaning, even heroic things become easy and happy.

For the sake of Jesus Christ many give up everything, yet are they rich enough;

For the sake of Jesus Christ many live and labour, and die; yet is their death absorbed in victory; For the sake of Jesus Christ many devote themselves wholly to the good of others: They live, no not they, but Christ lives in them.

These are the great ones of the world; it is to such as these that we owe almost all the real good this world possesses, not money, it may be, but love, and selflessness, and sacrifice, not pleasure, in the passing sense, but peace, and happiness which nothing can destroy; not power, unless it be the power which consists mainly in service.

These are the saints, the fruit of faith and love; and it is in their company I may live, like to them I may grow, by the same faith and love.

Faith, and love, and following of Jesus Christ, make of a man the best that can be made, and nothing else will do it. Faith, and love, and following of Jesus Christ, make a man able to help his fellowmen as nothing else can make him. Faith, and love, and following of Jesus Christ, give a man satisfaction, and joy in life which nothing in the world can give:

“Peace which the world cannot give, I give unto you.”- “You shall have joy, and your joy no man shall take from you.”

All this is in the Catholic’s possession; the Catholic that was, and is no more, has thrown it away, and for what?

9. An Example

Some little children in the poorest quarter of one of our great cities had been prepared for their first communion. They were accustomed to live in hard poverty; usually they had no shoes on their feet. For the occasion a generous benefactor had provided all the little group with shoes and stockings. They came to Mass in their glory; but just before the moment came to go to the altar, one small boy remembered how poor as a child had been the Lord whom he was about to receive. He could not receive Him as he was. He sat down on the bench and took off his new shoes and stockings. The others saw what he was doing and at once understood. They followed his example, they took off their shoes and stockings, and all went together to Communion barefoot.

This is what the love of Jesus Christ will make of us. So can faith and love of Jesus Christ turn sorrow into joy, shame into glory, failure into triumph, bringing down the golden light upon the greatest misery, giving it a meaning and making it worthwhile, when nothing else in the world can do anything.

10. God and Suffering

But why, if God is good, and if He so loves mankind, does He send to men so much suffering? Why, especially, does He make the innocent suffer in the way they do?

No one knows altogether the inscrutable designs of God; His ways are not our ways. But this we do know, that God does and allows nothing without a purpose; that there is always good, and our good, at the end of everything that He permits; that some day we shall understand, and then we shall thank Him for everything He has permitted us to suffer.

How often do we hear one who has suffered say when it is over that he is glad that he has had to go through it, and would not have it otherwise for anything?

Suffering is the making of a man; for the man who has never suffered anything we are sorry;

Suffering brings out the best that is in him; without suffering there could be no bravery, no heroism, and but little love;

Suffering is the most beautiful thing in the world; our artists and our poets make it their constant theme, our theatres are filled with people who come to see examples of suffering nobly borne;

Suffering teaches us what nothing else can teach us

Suffering softens us, perfects our character, as can nothing else;

Suffering makes us like to Jesus Christ our Lord; Suffering lets us go shares with Christ our Lord: “Making up what is wanting in the sufferings of Christ”“

Suffering proves a man’s love: love likes to be tested: that is why the saints wanted to suffer.

11 . An Example

But not only the saints, unless we include among them countless heroic sufferers of whom men know nothing. A box-tender of the . . . was tidying her case, when a shy woman came up and began to talk to her.

She said she was not a Catholic, but that she came to the church because of the peace she said she found there. Evidently a very lonely woman, living her life in the midst of the crowds as in a desert. With hesitation she acknowledged that she suffered much in body; but she had recently heard it said that it was possible to share in the sufferings of Christ, by uniting her pains to His and so suffer with Him. She did not dare believe a thing like that offhand; what did Catholics think about it?

The box-tender explained; how Christ suffered, and died, and rose again; how having once risen He dieth now no more; how He is, yesterday, today, and the same for ever; how He is with us, even to the consummation of the world; how those who will receive Him “live, no not they, but He lives in them”; how His sufferings are our sufferings, how our sufferings are His sufferings, made one, as we are made one with Him; how by our sufferings we continue to win for mankind the favour of God as He won it.

The poor woman listened; she was quite over come. “I never dreamt of it like that,” she said; “then suffering is a privilege.” After a minute she added: “But it makes all the difference” and went off happy, saying Providence had brought her there, rejoicing, like the apostles, that she was “accounted worthy to suffer for the sake of Jesus Christ.”

This is what faith, and faith alone, can do for us. Philosophy may explain the pleasures of life, science may multiply its comforts; both alike may try to eliminate suffering, but faith alone can take it in both hands and find in it a joy and a privilege.

12 Conclusion

This is how the Catholic looks at life: “What return can I make to the Lord for all He has given to me?” He has given me myself,

I can give myself back to Him.

He has given me this life,

I can live it for Him.

He has given me His own Son,

I can receive and welcome Him.

He has given me His Son’s life,

I can live with Him and in Him.

He has given me His Son’s death,

I can make that love my standard.

He has given me His own Fatherhood,

I can be a true son.

I can believe in Him,

I can trust Him,

I can be true to Him,

I can be what He wants me to be,

I can do what He wants me to do.

This what my faith means to me,

It is the key to life,

It is the only key to peace;

“Peace which the world cannot give, I give unto you.”

********

The Catholic Way of Worship

BY FFLORENS ROCH

INDEX

ESSENTIALS

EVERYONE, whether they were born into the Catholic Church or whether they found their own way there later in life, should be able to give an account of the Faith that is in them.

Our Faith is to each one of us the most precious thing we have. It means the relationship of our own soul to God, and nothing in the world matters as much as that. So we cannot be vague about it. We must know definitely what we believe, why we believe it, and how we are to practise it. From this comes our special “way of worship.”

We Catholics believe that God made us, and that we owe to Him every moment of our lives-without Him we are nothing.

God made us because He loved us from all Eternity, and He wanted us, His creatures, to love Him and to serve Him in this world, and to be happy with Him forever in the next world.

He wished to have our love freely given to Him, and so when He made us He gave us the gift of Free Will, that means He has given each man and woman a will that may choose God or may turn away from Him. The Bible, which is the inspired word of God, tells us that in the beginning man disobeyed God; in other words man turned away from God-he sinned.

But God still loved His human creatures. He loved them so much that He would wash away that sin and the sins that followed it. But only God Himself could repair a sin against God. Out of His love, therefore, God Himself became Man, in order that He might suffer and die for us. And God made Man is called Jesus Christ, the second Person of the Blessed Trinity.

Now the whole basis of the Faith of the Catholic Church is the fact that Christ our Lord was God-not a prophet or an extra good man; not a man possessing divine qualities, or becoming what is called “God-like” in some special way-not that, but God Himself. For in God there are three Persons, the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost. And like St Peter we too hold and declare that He whom we call Our Lord is indeed, “Christ the Son of the living God” (St Matthew xvi. 16).

Moreover we know that, as Christ was God, every word He spoke was the word of God; every command that He gave to His Apostles carried with it the power to fulfil that command, the power which only God could give.

The Divinity of Our Lord is then the foundation of our Faith. It is this which gives the full meaning to the sacrifice of Calvary; that is, to the fact that Christ our Lord, out of His love, shed His blood for us, so that we, if we would-again God would not force man’s will-might seek and obtain pardon for our sins, and the help and grace needed to lead a good and holy life for love of Him. And as a final proof of His Godhead, Christ our Lord, having died for man, rose again from the dead, which is beyond the power of mortal man to do.

We now come a step further. Our Lord, being God, could foresee the dangers that would come to mankind ; how false teachers would spring up to lead them astray; how the pleasures and the cares of the world would gradually come between them and the thought of God; how they would be led to forget Him; and how the memory of all He had done for them would fade away, if they were left to themselves. It was, then, absolutely necessary-our very reason tells us so-that Our Lord, while He was yet visibly upon this earth, should establish here a teaching Body, who to the end of time would keep alive the things He had taught; who would have His Authority to go on teaching; and, more than that, would have not only His Authority, but His Presence in their midst. And so He established His Church upon earth, in the persons of His Apostles. He left them in no doubt, His commission to them, on the very Mount of the Ascension, was clear, and clear was His promise to remain with them and with their successors, for all time.

“All power is given to Me in heaven and on earth. Going therefore teach ye all Nations baptizing them in the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Teaching them to observe all things, whatsoever I have commanded you: and behold I am with you all days, even to the consummation of the world “ (St Matthew xxviii. 18–20).

Christ came for all the world, therefore His Church belongs not to one nation only, but to the whole world, for as has been seen He commissioned His Apostles, the nucleus of His Church, to teach “all nations.” The Church, therefore, that is the Church founded by Christ Himself, must be the same in all nations, teaching the same truths, and worshipping in the same way. Indeed, as though to emphasize the fact that the Church of Christ is no mere National Church, she has for centuries held her liturgical services and her offices in the Latin tongue, which is the tongue of no one nation. All letters (Encyclicals;, all ecclesiastical directions, admonitions, etc., sent out from the Pope who is the visible Head of the Church on earth, are sent in the Latin tongue, so that all nations receive them alike, each one being of course free to translate them into their own language for the instruction of the “Faithful.”

The Church of Christ, just because it is His Church, must be holy. This does not mean that all her members are holy. Human beings still have free will; they may still choose the way of God, which is often the way of the Cross, or they may reject it; they may obey their Church, or act contrary to her Teaching. The worst enemies the Church has had are those of her own members who have refused to live according to her standard. The Holiness of the Church of Christ then means that her teaching is holy; her standard of life is holy; her way of worship is holy; and furthermore that there have been those who having lived according to her counsels of perfection have attained to “heroic sanctity,” in other words, have after their death been declared and universally recognized as Saints.

In order to understand aright the Catholic way of worship, we must keep the essentials clear in our minds-the Divinity of Christ-the Sacrifice of Calvary-the establishment by Our Lord of a Church that will keep His Truth ever alive before His people, the Truth that must be One, and must be Holy, because it is God’s Truth. We must recognize that God’s Truth is something which exists outside ourselves. It matters not whether every part of it appeals to each one of us or not; it matters not whether the way we are told to go is easy or hard-the thing that does matter is, is it true? Did Our Lord come to show us an easy way, or did He come to lead us along the Way of the Cross? Does the Catholic Church teach the easy way, or the Way of the Cross? We have each to solve that question for ourselves.

And now, having faced the essentials, we are able to look with understanding at the Catholic “Way of Worship.”

As our religion is not only founded on, but built up round the Divinity of Our Lord and the Sacrifice of Calvary, it stands to reason that the central act of Worship in the Catholic Church is the Sacrifice of the Mass. The Mass is not a service in the usual sense of the word. It is the daily renewal, in a painless and mystic way, of the supreme Sacrifice of Calvary. It is this that puzzles people sometimes. They wonder why the priest so often speaks in such low tones during Mass, why the people kneel there so silently, responding to no prayers out loud. It is just because the priest is not “taking a service.” He is offering a Sacrifice, the same Sacrifice which was offered on Calvary, and the people kneeling in the church are joining with him at the foot of the Cross. They are free to join in any way they like. Some follow closely in their books in their own language the words which the priest is saying in Latin, now aloud, now in a whisper at the altar. They pray the prayers with him. Others pray in their own words-others kneel in wordless adoration before their Lord. It matters not whether the worshippers are learned, or whether they can neither read nor write; whether they are old, or whether they are little children; they can each join in their own way in this central act of worship, the Sacrifice of the Mass, where Christ our Lord offers Himself once again to the Eternal Father, but now under the appearance of bread and wine, for all the needs of the world, for the souls of the living and the dead.

Difficult to grasp, it may be said, difficult to believe. It was always difficult, ever since Our Lord Himself, in the scene described by St John in the 6th chapter of his Gospel, promised to give His “flesh for the life of the world” (verse 52). So difficult was it indeed that we are told “the Jews therefore strove among themselves, saying; ‘How can this man give us His flesh to eat?’” And because He would not explain away His saying, but on the contrary reiterated it, many of His disciples “Walked no more with Him” (St John vi. 67).

How was He the Bread of Life; how was it possible that He should give His Body and Blood to be the food of their souls? Like many today, they would not accept the Divine Word, because their little human minds could not understand it. So they left Him. And He let them go because He would not change His Truth. But turning to the twelve He asked them, “Will you also go away?” And Simon Peter, speaking for them all, replied “Lord, to whom shall we go? Thou hast the words of eternal life. And we have believed and have known that Thou art the Christ the Son of God” (St John vi. 69–70). In other words, “We know, though we don’t understand, that whatever Thou, the Son of God, sayest must be the Truth.”

Later, at the Last Supper, Our Lord fulfils His promise for the first time. He changes the bread and wine into His Body and Blood, and gives His Apostles the command-and with it the power to carry out that command-to do the same as He has done, that is to consecrate bread and wine, changing it by that act into His Body and Blood, in commemoration of Him. Thus was the Mass instituted, and thus it was believed from the very early ages of the Church. St Paul said quite plainly:

“As often as you shall eat this bread, and drink this chalice, you shall show the death of the Lord until He come” (1 Cor. xi. 24).

You shall show the death of the Lord-that is plain, isn’t it, just as we believe today, and as every Catholic believes- the Mass is the renewal, the showing again of the death of the Lord; the renewal of the Sacrifice of Calvary. No wonder that it is the central act of worship in the Catholic Church to which no other one of her services, beautiful as they are, can be compared.

It is through the Mass that Christ Himself comes into the souls of His people in Holy Communion. There is no obligation under the Law of the Church for anyone to go to Holy Communion more than once a year, so that it is from no obligation, but out of love that thousands, in this country alone, go daily to receive Our Lord in Holy Communion. Many go at considerable sacrifice to themselves. I know working girls who will go to work without their breakfast rather than miss their Communion. And many who are unable to be daily Communicants, will never, if they can help it, miss their Sunday Communion. It is understandable once one knows what lies behind it in the Catholic Way of Worship-when one realizes what the coming of Our Lord Himself must be to a soul who loves Him. I know an old woman-and there are probably many like her, for the world is full of hidden saints-who is very poor and very lame, living at what is for her a considerable distance from the church. Her work, for which the pay is very bad, is pulling rabbit skins, unpleasant work and unhealthy. Her hours are long, yet never does a day pass but that old woman, whatever the weather, goes fasting to Mass at 7 o’clock.

And each evening at 8 o’clock she is again in the church for night prayers or Benediction. When she was taken ill one autumn and for a time was unable to leave her bed, it was her sorrow that she had to miss her daily Communion for the first time in twenty years. As soon as she was well enough she was back at the altar every day. And it is no comfortable warmed church she goes to, but one which in winter freezes one to the bone with that kind of damp cold that goes through one, even when one has plenty of warm clothes to put on. To souls like that, there comes a happy familiarity with holy things; Our Lord is not someone far away who is addressed in formal words on a Sunday, and perhaps night and morning in a few set prayers. He is their friend, to whom they love to go, who cares for them every moment of their lives. Speaking of the cold of a winter’s morning in that unwarmed church, my old friend said:

“I’m glad of me hot cup o’ tea before I go to work. Our Lord is very good, He’ll never let one want for a cup o’ tea, if one trusts in Him.”

But it isn’t only the old, whom the Catholic way of worship draws very close to the Person of Our Lord. All are drawn, once they have accepted the sacrifices. For the Catholic way is not the easy way, it is the Way of the Master, the Way of the Cross. A working girl unable to attend daily Mass, owing to the early hour at which she had to set out for her factory, said to me once:

“The tram passes the church. And I always say ‘My Lord and my God,’ as we go by. You see, I know Mass is going on, and it might just be at the Elevation.”

To go back for a moment to the question of Unity, it is worth while realizing that if we stepped into that church during Mass, and were suddenly able to take those worshippers away to a Catholic church, in, let us say, Norway, or Italy, or Africa, or anywhere in the world at the hour of Mass, they would be quite at home. The same prayers, in the same familiar Latin tongue, the same gestures, the same Mass in fact, with no shadow of difference. A Catholic is at home in any Catholic church all the world over. I remember once in Switzerland during Benediction on a Sunday evening, it came all at once to my mind that if the little company of Catholic Girl Guides which I was running at the time in connection with a South East London slum parish, could be dropped down into that Swiss church, they would be able to join in the singing every bit as lustily as the little Swiss children I saw about me. The same hymns in the same language, even the same familiar tunes as it happened. Those young Londoners would have been as much at home as in their own Parish Church during a Sunday evening Benediction.

(It should be mentioned here that there are Catholic Churches in complete union with Rome which have been allowed to keep their own Ancient Eastern Rites and language, where a Catholic accustomed to the Latin Rite would be puzzled. The Mass in these churches is surrounded by many ceremonies quite unfamiliar to the majority of European and American Catholics. But the sacrifice is the same, the chief parts of the Mass, the Offertory, Consecration, etc. . would soon be recognized. )

But to return to our main point. The Catholic knows that Our Lord’s love for mankind has gone still further. Not content with becoming man, and suffering and dying for us-not content with leaving behind Him a Church upon earth of which He is the Head-not content with renewing daily upon the altars of that Church His supreme Sacrifice-not content even with giving Himself to be the food of each individual soul who wishes to receive Him, He does yet more. Have you ever gone into Westminster Cathedral, or some other Catholic church in the large thoroughfares of London when there is no service going on? Always people are praying there. In the poorer parts of London, where most people are at work during the day, the larger number of these silent worshippers will be found after working hours. In Westminster Cathedral they are to be found all day and throughout the evening too until the church closes at 9.30. Some will be kneeling, some sitting; all are praying quietly in their own way; some with books, the greater number probably without. That way of worship goes on all day, especially in the bigger churches of London and of other large towns. And in the country churches too there will be the intermittent visits of the “faithful.”

What is behind this way of worship? Again Our Lord Himself. Through the Mass He has come down upon the altar, and He remains there all day and all night in the Blessed Sacrament hidden away in the tabernacle. It is no empty church those people enter to pray. They know by the lighted lamp hanging before the altar (it may be before the High altar, or it may be before an altar in a side chapel as in Westminster Cathedral) that Our Lord is there. Some go in for a few minutes only, on their way from work it may be, or to say a prayer during their dinner hour; some can spare a longer time. No one orders them to come, no one tells them how to pray when they are there. They just come because they love Our Lord, and He draws them. They may be in trouble, and want to tell Him about it and ask His help; they may want to thank Him for His Goodness; they may come to pray for someone who is dear to them, or someone in danger or sickness; or they may come simply to adore Him, asking for nothing, but that His Holy Will may be done in all things.

The Catholic “way of worship” is a very homely thing really, the humblest and the most ignorant will feel quite happy joining in spirit in the grandest ceremonies of the Church, and all the while speaking to God in their own way. Religion and church don’t just belong to Sundays, they belong to every day. The Church like a mother looks after the needs of each individual soul, and meets them with a special help in all the greatest needs of their life.

The seven Sacraments, as it were, meet the soul at certain moments of life when help is specially needed. When the child is born, the Sacrament of Baptism makes it a Child of God, and a member of the Church. As it approaches maturity the Sacrament of Confirmation gives it an added strength. The child of God is taken a step further and becomes a soldier of Jesus Christ.

When temptations have proved too strong, and sin has been committed, the Catholic seeks pardon and grace in the Sacrament of Penance, which necessitates Confession, with true repentance and a firm purpose of amendment. All through life the Church is ready to give the Sacrament of the Holy Eucharist, for this is the food, and often the daily food, of the soul. Then just as Mother Church was there to receive the soul and make it God’s very own, when it came into the world, so is she there with a special sacrament to sanctify and help the soul about to leave the world. Extreme Unction is given to those about to die, or in danger of death, and it brings with it spiritual peace, and consecrates anew the whole being to God.

But there are serious steps in life itself which need special sacramental grace. To those men who give themselves altogether to the service of God in the priesthood, she gives the Sacrament of Holy Orders. To those about to marry, she gives the special grace of the Sacrament of Matrimony. So that prayers and spiritual help surround the Catholic all through his life, that is, the help is there, offered to him if he will take it-he is not forced. If he chooses, he may turn away and refuse all that is offered. He is free.

In considering the Catholic Way of Worship, there is just one main fact to remember, and that is that Jesus Christ our Lord is the centre of it all. He is behind our veneration for the Blessed Virgin Mary, His Holy Mother, and the Saints. We love Our Lady, as we call the Mother of Jesus, because she was His Mother, and because she was the holiest of women chosen before all others to be the mother of God made man. We know by that wonderful 1st chapter of Luke’s Gospel, that the Angel Gabriel sent by God Himself addresses Mary in these words, “Hail full of Grace, the Lord is with thee, blessed art thou among women.” And so in those very words do Catholics love to address her, asking her who must be so very dear to the heart of Our Lord, as she was His Mother, to pray for us. And in the same way we ask the special friends of God to help us by their prayers, because they loved Our Lord before everyone and everything else-many of them died for Him. We all say “I believe in the Communion of Saints,” when we say the Apostles Creed, and to Catholics that is just what it means, that we are all one family, and may help each other by our prayers; that those who are already with God may help their brothers and sisters on earth who are trying to get nearer to Him. After all, we love to feel that some good holy friend on earth is praying for us, don’t we? We ask to be remembered in the prayers of those who we know love God. Why then should we not ask the prayers of those who are already with Him-men like St Francis of Assisi, who gave up everything to be more like Our Lord, and who lived their lives for Him alone.

“Bear ye one another’s burdens.” (Gal. vi. 2). And so both in prayer and in deed must we help each other. Catholics pray not only for those who are living in this world. Their prayers do not end when their friends have passed into the valley of death, but they follow them after death. There is no great cleavage between this world and the next, and the Communion of Saints makes us all one.

At the last supper Our Lord prayed for His Apostles, whom He was about to leave, and for those who through them should believe in Him, that is for the Church that He had founded to carry on His teaching. And His prayer was for unity.

“And not for them only do I pray, but for them also who through their word shall believe in Me; that they all may be one, as Thou, Father, in me, and I in Thee: that they also may be one in us; that the World may believe that Thou hast sent Me” (St John xvii. 20–21).

DEVOTIONS

So far we have considered what may be called the Essentials in the Catholic Way of Worship, the way of worship, that is, of the greatest number of the laity. We have not touched upon the Divine Office, the great liturgical prayers of the Church said daily by the clergy, and chanted in choir, by many religious Orders of both men and women. The Divine Office is certainly one of the essentials in the life of the Church, though it does not come within the scope of this pamphlet, for generally speaking, with the exception of Vespers and Compline, it does not enter into the way of worship of the laity.

There are, however, certain “devotions” which do form a very intimate part of the religious life of every Catholic, of the completely unlettered as well as of the educated. Foremost among these is the devotion or “service” known as Benediction of the Blessed Sacrament. Again Our Lord Jesus Christ is the centre, for without faith in the Real Presence this service would be meaningless.

During Benediction the Blessed Sacrament is exposed above the altar in a vessel called a “monstrance” where all can see It. Certain hymns are sung, and incense, the symbol of divine worship, is burnt, and swung in the censer towards the Blessed Sacrament. It is a short and homely service. In all countries Catholics feel at home when they step into a church at the hour of Benediction, which is usually in the afternoon or evening. There is nothing formal about it, it is literally a gathering of disciples about the feet of the Master to receive His Blessing. When they have sung their hymns, or prayed in silence, according to their individual devotion, the priest takes the monstrance in his hands; the bell rings; the worshippers bow down in silence; while the priest holds the Blessed Sacrament above the people and makes with It a large sign of the Cross. Then he turns, places the monstrance on the altar, kneels down, and all join in the “Divine Praises.” It is very simple, and yet it is stupendous, for the fact of the Real Presence is in itself stupendous.

I once heard of a man who, having attended Benediction for the first time, asked what it meant. The Presence of Our Lord in the Blessed Sacrament was explained to him, and he went away. He came back a few days later asking to be received into the Church. The idea of God made Man giving Himself daily to His people in the Blessed Sacrament had overwhelmed him. It must be true, he said, for only God Himself could think of such a thing.

On certain days of the year which vary in different churches, the Blessed Sacrament is exposed above the altar, as for Benediction, all day while the Faithful come in at all hours to pray in silence before It. This is called Exposition of the Blessed Sacrament. In every church in turn there is Exposition for three days during the Quarant Ore or Forty Hours Prayer. When it is possible the watching and prayer are continued throughout the night. There is hardly a day on which the Forty Hours prayer is not taking place somewhere.

In many convents, where the nuns make Adoration their chief work, the Blessed Sacrament is exposed every day, in some cases through the night too. At the great Church of the Sacred Heart at Montmartre in Paris there is Perpetual Adoration, that is, the Blessed Sacrament is always exposed. The watching is undertaken by the laity, both men and women during the day, by men only at night. In London there is daily Adoration by the laity at the Church of the Sacred Heart at Horseferry Road from after the 8 o’clock Mass to the evening Benediction. Thus does the Catholic way of worship provide an endless fount of adoration and prayer during every hour of the day and night.

A popular devotion in the Church is the Rosary. It is often said in public, but more often still it is used as a private devotion. It sometimes puzzles non-Catholics, for it seems to them like nothing more than a continual repetition of the same prayer.

The Rosary is first and foremost a meditation. For example, take the Five Joyful Mysteries. On each rosary there are five decades, that is five sets of ten beads divided by a single bead. The first Joyful Mystery consists in saying an “Our Father” on the single bead, and a “Hail Mary” on each of the ten beads, ending with a “Glory be to the Father,” while at the same time meditating on the Annunciation.

The second meditation (called the second Joyful Mystery) is the Visitation.

The third Joyful Mystery is the Birth of Our Lord in a stable at Bethlehem.

The fourth Joyful Mystery is the Presentation of the Child Jesus in the Temple.

The fifth Joyful Mystery is the Finding of the Child Jesus in the Temple.

Thus the Five Joyful Mysteries of the Rosary are concerned entirely with events surrounding the birth and childhood of

Our Lord.

The five Sorrowful Mysteries of the Rosary form together a meditation on the Passion of Our Lord. The Agony in the Garden.

The Scourging at the pillar.

The Crowning with thorns.

The Carrying of the Cross.

The Crucifixion of Our Lord and His death between two thieves.

The Glorious Mysteries are concerned with the Resurrection and events that followed, founded on Scripture and tradition.

Only those who have had experience of it know the extraordinary help to concentration on a definite scene to be found in those reiterated prayers, while the mind is carried on from one “Mystery” to the other. Mental prayer, helped by vocal prayer, and within the reach of all, so simple is it.

“Except ye become as little children ye cannot enter the Kingdom of Heaven.” Christ our Lord said that, over nineteen hundred years ago. And today Catholic children and the old people, the rich and the poor, the learned and the ignorant, Catholics of all nations and all races, are one as their rosary beads slip through their fingers, and their minds go back to the foundations of Christianity; the Incarnation, God made Man; the Redemption; the Resurrection and the glory that followed.

There are many devotions in the Catholic Church. Those who follow her way of worship are very free. No two souls are alike, some find spiritual help in one way, some in another. Once the central fact is recognized, that Christ lives in His Church, directing her, and guarding her from error, all else falls into place.

Man will always have free will, therefore there will always be erring members of the Church, members who give scandal, members who disobey, but the Faith itself will be safe. We have Our Lord’s promise that the very “Gates of Hell” shall not prevail against His Church. Hence there can be freedom of devotion in her way of worship, freedom, and at the same time unity. There is Peace too, and a sense of perfect security, because Christ our Lord is there, who is the Way, the Truth, and the Life, and He has promised to remain there until the end of time.

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The Child From One To Heaven

NEIL MACCARTHY

INDEX

The art of raising Christians requires a deft ability to coordinate and inspire the ordinary techniques of good child care with a single motive: the love and service of God. The secret of this art is simple but not easy: to raise Christian children, you must first be a Christian yourself.

To be Christian is to extend in time the life and work of Our Lord by loving God, living in grace and serving others. This has never been easy. In monasteries it has never been easy. In lay life it is less easy. It is even harder in a decaying and secular society like ours.

To be a Christian parent is harder yet. The family is a group organism. Its growth demands the continual subjugation of the individuals comprising it, lest the interplay of personalities make the home a battlefield. Thus it must often seem that those practices and preoccupations which for the individual prepare the way of perfection, the ascent to Mount Carmel-solitude, recollection, formal prayer-are submerged when one becomes a parent in the flood of trifling, mundane concerns which characterize the group life. Sometimes years of resentment must be borne before parents come to see that this perpetual self-sacrifice, far from smothering their souls, has softened their egotistic bent for personal spiritual success with those traits of abandon, suppleness in circumstances and dependence on the Will of God, which are the mark of truly Christian souls. Parenthood requires a constant preoccupation with the physical needs of one’s family and therefore a stake in the things of this world. To organize efficiently the minutiae of daily life and yet keep alive the love of each member of the family for the others and of all for God is indeed a difficult task.

There are many ministries. Preachers enflesh the Word in tones that quicken us to faith. Philosophers enshrine the Word in crystal thought which error cannot cloud. Saints materialize the Word in heroic action. Priests substantiate the Word as none of us can by changing bread to Christ.

But parents can make the Word flesh in a unique and almost literal sense. From the moment they conceive a child until his last work of degrading or ennobling the world is done, the work of their hands and hearts can incarnate the Word as can no other ministry.

Therefore must parents live in grace, lest their ministry be blamed.

It is so easy for them to be wrong, to misconstrue the relation of religion to life. They can drift into thinking of religion as a decoration, a cultural flourish to be added to “The Australian way,” or as a substitute for life, a drug to enmist in rosy vagueness the harsh outlines of a wicked world.

Parents who mistake Christianity for a social grace bring up cynical and secular children who lead shallow, undisciplined lives cluttered with movies, TV, lollies and comics. The failure of these parents is not always recognized. They are reasonable people, a credit to the town, good friends and neighbors. It is not noticed that they are not Christians.

Parents who seek “comfort” in religion are more readily detected as maladjusted. Christianity afflicts these people like a disease. They are full of tracts and medals and esoteric devotions to unknown saints. They entertain the clergy often and at such times butter their conversation with private understandings with the Blessed Mother and churchly chitchat about Father Jamey getting Good Shepherd parish after all.

Such people seldom concern themselves with the merely natural aids to parenthood, like the P & F, or parents’ magazines or the Montessori system. Teaching Tom to use simple tools or working out a schedule of chores and allowances for him is less important to them that seeing that Tom wears a scapular.

Such parents lack a sense of proportion. They are somewhat silly. But they are less reprehensible than the middleclass type. They do realize that there is a dog beneath the skin and that the natural order is not to be complacently accepted as it is.

How do parents who love God and live in grace and have got straight the connection between religion and life approach the task of raising Christians?

They begin with a study of sound child care. They know that the liturgical life is neither a substitute for the world nor an endorsement of it: it is a critique. They use the love of God as a touchstone, a divining rod by which to select and transform those things in the natural order which can honour Him. Therefore they use the ordinary means of learning how to bring up children. They have no facetious attitude toward government pamphlets like The Child From One to Six or nursery clinics or books on child welfare. They use these aids with discretion, but their approach is careful rather than critical. They have much to learn.

Wise parents begin early to inculcate self-reliance. They allow the walking child to fall down without comforting him. They let him cry a little if he cannot assemble his blocks to his own satisfaction. Occasionally they encourage him with a word or a smile. But as a matter of course, the child is expected to work things out for himself, In doing so, he is strengthened spiritually. Can a Christian be chicken-hearted? Is virtue a valentine of pink bows and baby talk?

Self-reliance can be over-learned. The child trying to walk or shovel sand wants to try it all the time, through naps and meals and other needs. It is here, before the child is one, that wise parents teach a reasonable respect for authority, for Mother’s quiet work, for Father’s silent look. They do not call out at the child or give in to his whims. They show their dignity by self-control and sensible consistency. The infant learns that No means No. There is no contest of wills, no testing of the strength of No. Mother said “No” or “Bed” or “Give it to me.” That is all. It is right, inevitable. When the child is twenty and Mother says, “I want to talk to you, Tom,” Tom will come. Mother is probably right. In any event, she is Mother. If Tom gets it into his head to chase women or drink liquor or do any of the things that young men think makes them a real man, Father can call Tom aside and talk sense to him. But only because the event was prepared for in the playpen and the sandpit.

Thus good Christian parents develop the child from one age to the next. As he grows older, physical problems diminish, moral and spiritual ones increase. Less time is needed for physical projects like bathroom training or throwing a ball or sewing a sock. More time is given to discussion of the ethical situations arising in school, of the nature of the earth and the universe, of basic religious concepts, prayer, faith, grace. But there is no separation of physical and spiritual. When Father shows Tom how to hold a bat, he may slip in a word about the place of play in the imitation of Christ. Tom will not pay attention, of course, if he is any kind of a boy. He is too interested in learning the game, in hitting a ball. But there will be hundreds of similar opportunities for Father to make his point. An occasion will present itself to tell the story of the child saint who was playing with a ball. He was asked what he would do if he had five minutes to live. He replied that he would go right on playing with a ball. Tom will unconsciously dovetail this with the other things Father has said. When Tom is older he will understand the relation of sports to sanctity without knowing how he knows.

Mother is teaching the girls to bake. Little Joan is in tears-her cookies turned out badly. Did you read the recipe carefully, dear? Yes, Mommy-but it seemed like such an awful lot of sugar, I just thought . . . Mother makes a few, casual remarks about the value of following rules, of paying attention to details. The mailman arrives with a package. It is a beautiful blanket for the new baby. The girls interrupt their cooking to admire the gift. Mother smiles as she reads a motto onthe label: “Quality is never an accident.” “What is quality, Mommy?” Mother explains. She relates the principle to Joan’s cookies. Joan is beginning to learn a lot more than just making cookies. . . .

But this moralizing in situations will seem false and will not be accepted by the children unless, from their birth, they are brought up in a home that radiates affection, idealism and a common life of grace. The infant in his highchair cannot talk yet, but he watches his parents pray before meals.

He wonders what they are doing. Later he imitates the position of the hands. It doesn’t matter that he doesn’t know what he is doing. It matters only that prayers are as much a staple of existence as diapers or oatmeal.

The Germans have an expression for this principle. They say, “He does not know the words, but he understands the music.” That is, the child grasps in an intuitive way many attitudes and meanings. Wise parents utilize this principle in teaching everything. They listen to music and read poems and look at sunsets and pray at Mass, and the child understands only the music. Later, he will learn the words more rationally. But if there has been no music first, the child rightly suspects that what he is being taught is affectatious, not lived out, said for his benefit. Consequently he learns unwillingly and superficially. He does not learn by the blood but by the tongue. And he forgets as soon as he can get away with it-which is often tomorrow. If a child is taught grace before meals with self-conscious airs of piety and coy talk about being a little soldier of Christ, he senses the insincerity of his parents and is led to believe that the whole rigmarole is a gag to fool little kids into being good.

Sincere Christian parents do not produce this reaction. Their children cannot remember a time when Mother and Father were not going to daily Mass or reading spiritual books to each other or discussing current events in the light of Our Lord’s teaching. As children grow older and study religion formally, they see they are merely receiving explicit instruction in the facts and attitudes they have always lived by.

Even after catechetical age, the greater part of the children’s spiritual instruction goes on at home. Public affairs, heard on the radio and discussed at school, are rehashed at home. What is communism? Why are they after Cardinal Mindszenty? Why do they want to stamp out religion? A Maryknoll magazine arrives. It features a full-page photo of a ragged Chinese peasant sitting on the ground, crying like a baby in despair and grief. His bony horse stands beside him. There is nothing to eat. Nothing at all. The picture is tacked up on the family bulletin board in the kitchen. The children ask about it. It is explained to them. Why we should pray for the poor and hungry. Why we should eat our own good food with thankfulness. A copy of Life magazine lies on the living-room table. Mother fetches it, turns to the section: “Life Goes to a Party.” She shows the children the pictures of the well-dressed guests, stuffing themselves with delicacies, laughing too much and doing foolish things. She compares them with the Chinese peasant. Is this right? Is it Christian?

Needless to say, wise parents do not sicken their young with an overdose of piety. They take the attitude that God made the world and it is fundamentally good. They inculcate a “relaxed” piety which presumes a Christian viewpoint without tiresomely insisting on it all day long. It is not necessary to evoke the saints hourly, to collect holy pictures, to deck oneself out in the paraphernalia of piety. To follow Christ is to love God and to do everything for His sake-that is enough. God is everywhere: parents need not feel that He can only exist in virtue of their personally planting Him about.

Christian parents, therefore, explain natural and mechanical phenomena reasonably. They discuss the anatomy of rainbows, how radios work, the hydrologic cycle and how babies are born, in a matter-of-fact way , using such aids in the way of blackboards and encyclopedias as they can afford. They are careful, however, to avoid the scientific spirit. The explanation of ant-hills and bee-hives is complete only when it directs the attention of the child to the wisdom and humor and engineering skill of God. Yet the eternal aspect of material things is shown with such a fine sense of proportion that the children are able to talk freely of the things that interest them-frogs and hockey and what Natalie Hubbard did in school-without fearing that the conversation will inevitably veer around to the ten commandments.

As the child enters puberty, all that has gone into his formation is put to a crucial test. The contrast between the ethical pattern by which he has been brought up and the cynical values of the “outside” world becomes more and more obvious. He goes to school, visits the homes of his companions, sees advertisements and billboards and hears the radio, and everything he does and sees and hears shows him plainly that while the rest of the world is “having fun,” he is restricted in a thousand ways by the dictates of religion. He has been led to believe that kindness and gentility and love of one’s neighbor are natural and expected virtues, and he has behaved accordingly. Now he is called a “sucker.” And as he looks at his friends with their pockets full of coins, their movies and soda pop and comic books, he wonders if he is one. His friends don’t do chores or go to daily Mass. They can see Neptune’s Daughter. He is not allowed. Why not? Is he being taken in? Is Catholicism real? Or are the values of the world around him “real”?

Many children are lost forever to their parents at this age. The instinct of the child is to pull away from his elders, to become emotionally independent. It is psychologically necessary for him to do so. If the attitude of his parents is sympathetic and honest, he is enabled to detach himself from them emotionally without rejecting their spiritual pattern. If his training till now has been Christian, his struggle for personal identity will not unduly alarm his parents. They will not try to fetter him with idiotic demands for affection and blind obedience. They are confident they can hold himwith the silken threads of love and respect for their example-threads which may have an elasticity, which give but never snap, struggle though he may. Let him thrash his wings a bit.

Thus wise parents handle this fight for identity, this youthful war on the outcome of which depends the success of all their efforts, with tactful understanding. They adjust themselves to a granting of concessions, a paying out of slack in the silver cord.But this is never done on a bargaining basis: you do this and I’ll let you do that. The loosening of the ties that bind presumes the idea of equity-adult behavior meriting adult privilege. And in keeping with this, the conflict between the child’s two worlds, his home and his outside experience, is honestly faced.

There is a difference between life in a Christian family and the pleasureseeking existence which is the “American way.” Our neighbors do things which we may not do. There are things our secular friends see and say and think which we may not, and still be Christians. This does not mean that our friends are not worthy people, better perhaps by their lights than we by ours. But they live differently than we do, and the difference is important.

Christian parents gain nothing by glossing the facts, by narrowing the chasm between the following of Christ and the following of self, as though secularism could be sanctified and Christianity “humanized” and the two somehow be made to appear the same. They are not. And the time has come for a frank appeal to the child to embrace the life of grace and reject the life of self-seeking, knowing the implications of both,,

Wise parents give this appeal a positive statement by stimulating a sense of vocation. They teach their children the use of the Missal and a real participation in the liturgy of the Church. They develop an understanding of the Mystical Body, a sense of living the life of Christ by extension in time. The saints are introduced as models of behavior. Their achievements are studied in preparation for feast-days and name-days, first in the little introductions in the Missal, later and more completely in books given as gifts. The children are led to see that saints are people, that a saint is not a special kind of person, but that every person can be a special kind of saint. Here is a saint who was a farmer, this one a mother, that one Chancellor of the Exchequer, here a philosopher, there the founder of an Order. What are you going to be, dear?-I want to be a nurse, a wife, a doctor, a sheep farmer. Do you? Why? Will it help you to serve God and people? You don’t know, you just think it would be fun? Think it over, dear, think it over. . . .

Thus, with piety and patience, good parents raise Christians from one to heaven-that the Word may be made Flesh. A hard apostolate, but can they wish less?

Can they wish to raise Quiz Kids, brilliant with the fantastic values of television, atomic physics, jazz and beanieswith-propellers-on-top? Or culture-worshippers, prattling smartly of Picasso, Rouault, Hemingway and Waugh?

Eric Gill asked it rightly: “Do you think good taste can save us? Only one thing can save us. We must desire to be saints.”

The achievement of holiness is the work of grace, of Him Who made us and knows what He will have of us. We need not see the fruition of grace in ourselves or in our children. Enough that we try.

But to wish anything less for us or for them is to cheat them of their birthright, deny our vocation, and degrade the sacrament of marriage to the status of an obscene playing with dolls.

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The Child Jesus Part 1

FRANCIS L. FILAS, S.J

INDEX

THE SACRIFICE BEGINS

“AND when eight days were fulfilled for his circumcision, his name was called Jesus, the name given him by the angel before he was conceived in the womb” (Luke 2:21). “And [Joseph] called his name Jesus” (Matt. 1:25).

This was the day on which Jesus received “the name that is above every name, so that at the name of Jesus every knee should bend of those in heaven, on earth, and under the earth, and every tongue should confess that the Lord Jesus Christ is in the glory of God the Father” (Phil. 2:9–11). The rite of circumcision was the sign of the “testament”-the covenant or agreement-between God and Abraham and the sons of Abraham.

Jesus subjected Himself to the law of circumcision in order to show that He had taken on our human nature in all its completeness. The rite signified the consecration of its subject to God. This held true for every Hebrew male child. How much more truly did it not apply to Jesus, who although the Second Person of the Blessed Trinity in His divine nature, consecrated His human nature to the service and glory of His Godhead!

“And when the days of Mary’s purification were fulfilled, according to the Law of Moses, they took him up to Jerusalem to present him to the Lord” (Luke 2:22). In this episode which occurred forty days after the Nativity many people are puzzled by the “purification” to which Mary subjected herself. Did it mean that motherhood among the Jews was considered something impure?

The answer to this question depends on what we mean bythe word “impure.” The law of purification did not imply that mothers contracted a moral blemish by bearing children. Rather, it referred to a legal “uncleanness” the precise nature of which is not known. After the birth of a son a period of forty days had to elapse before the mother could touch hallowed things and enter the sanctuary of the Temple. But this did not mean that motherhood was something sinful or less perfect. Actually, children were deemed signs of God’s favor, and a childless wife considered herself cursed. The law of purification of mothers probably had its origin, as did so many of the old laws of the Hebrews, in sanitary considerations. The ceremony itself consisted of offering a pair of turtledoves or two young pigeons for sacrifice. Thereupon the legal blemish was removed.

One of the impressive rites of the Church which recalls Mary’s visit to the Temple is the churching of women after they have given birth. In the minds of many there unfortunately exists a more or less hazy misunderstanding of the true meaning of the ceremony. Churching does not imply that women because of childbirth incur some sort of stain which must be duly removed by the prayers of the priest. It is a blessing which the Church confers on the mother; and the mother in her turn offers thanks to God for her safe delivery.

The ceremony is made up of a psalm of gratitude and praise, a blessing of the mother with holy water, and various prayers suitable for the occasion. As part of the rite, the priest places the end of his stole into the mother’s hand and leads her into the church, saying, “Enter into the temple of God, adore the Son of the Blessed Virgin Mary, who has given you the fruitfulness of offspring.” Then he recites a special prayer as follows: “Almighty everlasting God, who through the delivery of the Blessed Virgin Mary has turned into joy the pains of the faithful in childbirth, look graciously upon this Thy handmaid coming in gladness to Thy holy temple to offer thanksgiving: and grant that after this life by the merits and intercession of the same blessed Mary, she may merit to arrive together with her offspring at the joys of everlasting happiness, through Christ our Lord. Amen.” And to the mother the priest says, “May the peace and blessing of Almighty God, the Father and the Son and the Holy Ghost, descend upon you and remain always, Amen.”

Since Mary had given birth to Jesus miraculously, she undoubtedly was not bound in conscience to observe the law of purification. In the same way Jesus was not obliged to be presented to the Lord, for He was already God by nature. The custom of offering the firstborn to God hearkened back to the Israelites” release from captivity in Egypt. There, God struck dead all the first-born of the Egyptians, sparing, of course, the Hebrew children. In remembrance of this favor, first-born males were consecrated to God and then redeemed by the payment of a token price-five shekels, about $3.20. There is wonderful meaning in this scene of Mary and Joseph redeeming the Redeemer. Jesus submitted to the rite of Presentation in order to show us once again how truly and fully He became one of us.

When Mary and Joseph gave Jesus to the priest in the Temple to be offered to God, they united in that offering themselves-everything they were and everything they had. It was the closeness of their union with Jesus that made them holy; and if their Son in His human nature was making the oblation of Himself to His heavenly Father, these two beloved parents were not going to stint the generosity of their cooperation with Him. They would offer themselves, too.

As Mary and Joseph made their self-consecration, so should we. It is true that in a very correct sense everything we are and everything we have belongs already to God. He has given us even our free will. But in another sense God made us stewards of our talents, our bodies, our very souls, putting them into our charge to be cared for and developed so that they might ultimately be fit to be raised to eternal union with Him. In giving ourselves back to our Creator, we ask that we be employed according to His holy and all-good will. It is an offering born of love and gratitude.

Sometimes people are frightened to make such an offering. They imagine that God will ask them to undergo terrible sufferings, or that He will take away from them their legitimate pleasures. No, that is not the sense of selfoblation. It is merely an explicit method of telling God that you wish His will to be accomplished in your regard. You already know His will in its general aspects. Its purpose is one and only one: that you may become holy. The means to become holy you already possess. If you observe the commandments, receive the sacraments, and carry out the duties of your state of life, you are doing God’s will. When you make the offering of yourself, you are saying equivalently that you desire to fulfill these obligations ever more perfectly and confidently leave yourself in His hands. Is there anything frightening in that?

In connection with the possible crosses you may fear, never forget that Almighty God is bound by His justice and by His own promise to give you all the graces you need to carry out anything He asks of you. Usually the worst crosses we bear are those we create in our imagination. And even if some trial we dread does come to us, it cannot be the agonizing experience we foresaw. The reason simply is this: at the moment we are called upon to carry the cross, we have the grace to do so. But at the moment we fear that this or that cross will come to us, we do not have the grace to bear it. In other words God has not needlessly given us the strength to carry a cross which He has not asked us to bear.

Look back on your life and count up some of the benefits you have received. Creation-redemption- sanctification: the last-named of these implying that you were baptized in the Church of Christ, nourished by the sacrament of the Eucharist, restored to peace with God or increased in that peace by the sacrament of Penance. Now you are united in another wonderful sacrament, Matrimony, in a lifelong union of married love. Probably you have or will have the inestimable blessing of seeing your children and children’s children gather round you. (There are thousands of childless couples whose greatest cross is the fact that they cannot have children even though they desire them. They know what such a blessing would mean to them.)

There is so much, too, in your past life for which you feel grateful. In the rush of earning a livelihood or caring for the family you perhaps have been too busy to count up explicitly all these blessings-special favors from heaven that have been for your particular benefit. Yes, take the time, carefully itemize the list of all good things God has bestowed on you, and automatically there will rise in your heart a deep sense of thanksgiving that impels you to come to Joseph and Mary and ask them to accept the offering of yourself, to unite it to their own, and to give it to the beloved Infant so that it might arise together with the oblation of Himself to God the Father.

But your offering can be made still more complete. You will perfect it by including your whole family. Again the method of making this offering is as easy as it is efficacious. It is the consecration of the family to the Sacred Heart. Our Lord in His appearances to St. Margaret Mary promised special blessings to those families that have thus consecrated themselves: “I will give them all the graces necessary for their state of life; I will console them in all their difficulties: I will bless every place where a picture of My Heart shall be set up and honored; I will be their safe refuge in life and still more in death.”

Preferably this Consecration should be made officially by the Reverend Pastor or some other priest, but it is sufficient if the head of the family (or all the members together) recite this formula recommended and highly indulgenced by the Church. Preferably, too, the Consecration should be offered before a picture or statue of the Sacred Heart.

“O Sacred Heart of Jesus, who manifested to Saint Margaret Mary the desire to reign in Christian families, behold us here today in order to please You by proclaiming Your kingly rule over our family. We would live in the future with Your life, we would cause to flourish in our midst those virtues to which You have promised peace on earth, we would banish far from us the spirit of the world which You have cursed. You shall reign in our minds in the singleness of our faith; and You shall reign in our hearts by the love with which they will burn for You alone, with a flame kept alive by the frequent reception of the Holy Eucharist.

“Deign, O divine Heart, to preside over our gatherings, to bless our spiritual and temporal enterprises, to protect us from trouble, to sanctify our joys, and to lighten our sufferings. If ever anyone of us should have so great a misfortune as to displease You, remind him, O Heart of Jesus, that You are full of goodness and mercy for the penitent sinner.

“And when the hour of separation strikes and death casts mourning into the midst of our family, all of us, both those who pass on and those who remain, shall be submissive to Your eternal decrees. This will be our consolation, to recall that a day will come when our entire family, joined in heaven, will be able to sing forever Your glories and Your mercies.

“May the Immaculate Heart of Mary and the glorious Patriarch Saint Joseph deign to offer this consecration to You, and to preserve it in our memory every day of our lives.

“All glory to the Heart of our King and Father, Jesus!” (For indulgences see No. 655, The Raccolta)

After Joseph and Mary offered Jesus to His Eternal Father, there occurred that touching scene when the aged Simeon “came by inspiration of the Spirit into the Temple. And when his parents brought in the Child Jesus to do for him according to the custom of the law, he also received him and blessed God, saying, “Now thou dost dismiss thy servant, O Lord, according to thy word in peace; because my eyes have seen thy salvation which thou hast prepared before the face of all peoples; a light of revelation to the Gentiles, and a glory for thy people Israel”” (Luke 2:27–31).

Simeon’s canticle expresses so perfectly his joy over a life well spent that the phrase nunc dimittis (from the Latin, “now Thou dost dismiss”), has become a part of our language as an expression of satisfaction and thanksgiving to God at death’s approach.

As you read these lines, you probably may think to yourself that you are far from the moment when you will be called to leave this world and go to your judgment and reward. Perhaps so; but you can never forget that the moment is ever advancing. It is at the same time equally certain and uncertain. There can be no doubt that it will occur, but just when it will occur is the greatest question mark in your life and in the life of every other person now on earth.

You can adopt only one sensible course about the moment of your death. Live in such a way that no matter how suddenly it comes, you will always be prepared to say your nunc dimittis with a heart trusting in the goodness of God, conscious of your lifelong efforts to serve Him and love Him faithfully.

There are, of course, the usual two extremes, but neither of them is to be recommended. Some persons avoid the thought of death as if by forgetting the inevitable, they could stave it off or dodge it completely. For them the pleasures and parties of their hurried existence are emphasized out of all proper proportion. These people cannot bear the thought that one day their life will be over and they will be face to face with the sole reality that counts for anything: Did they or did they not save their souls by obeying the laws of God and of His Church?

So much for the attitude of the sophisticates. At the other extreme is a smaller group of people who make their mistake in being “too good.” True, there are not many of these, but enough are around us to serve as a warning to stay out of their class. These are the worriers who make life miserable for themselves (and incidentally for others also) by imagining God as some sort of bloodthirsty tyrant who wields over their puny heads the threat of instant death and eternal punishment. Fear rules their lives from start to finish- fear that penetrates their most fundamental relationships with their Creator as well as their dealings with their fellow men.

What is their mistake? They are concentrating on merely one facet of God’s infinite perfection. They see and hear and think of only His justice and punishments. They forget that He is all-good, that the source of all that is tender and affectionate and generous in us comes from the depths of His eternal love. Probably God in His goodness will magnanimously take care of them, for they are erring, as we would say, “in the right direction.” Nevertheless, theirs is a real error, and it is far removed from thatspirit of Simeon’s nunc dimittis which we want to develop in ourselves.

The correct attitude brings serenity into our lives, peace in our dealings with others, and security and deep happiness because of our relationship to our God. We trust that we are ready at any moment to go before our Judge, and we do not worry about it. It is His part to determine when our time is fulfilled, and with His infinite knowledge and providence He knows what is best for us. We do not try to fathom the mind of the Almighty, but we do try to accomplish what we can, to have something to show in our favor on Judgment Day.

An attitude of this sort can usually be implicit and pervade everything we do. The thought of death will not spoil our enjoyment of life if we accept the licit pleasures God has given us as good things that help us live as humans ought. In such a life we cherish our husband or wife, we love our children and strive to fulfill our obligations toward them, we obey the Church in its position as the divinely appointed and divinely guided teacher of faith and morals. And in doing this, we are building stone by stone the tower of confidence on which we can stand when death approaches. Then will we look back on a life well spent and thank the dear God for helping us during the time of our pilgrimage.

At that moment, too, God will be bringing us into the place where the incomplete is made complete, the temporal is changed into the eternal, and the ties of love which we had on earth are forged into everlasting bonds of happiness uniting us and our loved ones to our Creator, our Last End. It is the realization of all this that will evoke from our lips, “Now Thou dost dismiss Thy servant, O Lord, in peace.”

But in the Temple at Jerusalem on that day two thousand years ago, Joseph and Mary were to hear more words from Simeon’s lips, somber words that reminded them all too clearly that their own mission was just beginning, and that much suffering would be ahead of them before they could say their own nunc dimittis. “And Simeon said to Mary his mother, “Behold, this Child is destined for the fall and the rise of many in Israel, and for a sign that shall be contradicted. And thy own soul a sword shall pierce, that the thoughts of many hearts may be revealed” (Luke 2:34- 35).

Simeon under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit prophesied Our Lady’s role as the Mother of Sorrows and the Queen of Martyrs.Even though Mary’s suffering was to occur in the future, the prophecy served to remind her of what was to come, and to prepare her for the trial which would test the supreme heights of even her sanctity and generosity.

It is in this light that we should interpret Simeon’s prophecy. God did not cruelly send Our Lady an unnecessary cross. Long before the angel had asked her if she were willing to become the Mother of God, Mary knew from the Scriptures that the Messias would be the Man of Sorrows. When she consented, she realized what she was accepting. She would be closest to Jesus in everything-closest in suffering and love as well as in triumph and glory. In His Passion her sympathy was to be His greatest consolation. By a triumph of His grace Our Lady’s merits, dependent on those of her Son, were to help restore the fallen human race to the friendship of God which it had lost when Adam, its head, betrayed his trust.

At the moment of Simeon’s prophecy Joseph, too, understood what the sword of sorrow meant to his wife and what it would mean to the lovable Babe who had just been offered to His Eternal Father. The words of Simeon were a sign fromheaven that Christ’s oblation had been accepted. And because Joseph was closest to Mary in holiness, after her he was closest to Jesus in the suffering that redeemed us.

According to God’s plan Joseph was not present during Christ’s Passion and Crucifixion; but like Mary, he knew what the Scriptures had foretold of the Messias. Because his will was one with that of Mary and Jesus, Joseph truly sympathized with them in anticipation (for “sympathy” means “to suffer with”) so that he participated intimately in applying Christ’s redemption to mankind.

We should be careful to place the proper estimate on the attitude of the Holy Family. After Simeon’s prophecy of the future martyrdom of suffering, Mary and Joseph did not live a dismal, foreboding existence in the years of preparing their Child for His future. Knowing as we do how closely they imitated Jesus, we can be quite certain of the serenity and happiness in their lives.

Jesus on His part always had before Him the prospect of His Passion and death, yet He never let it distress Him outwardly until the night of His agony in Gethsemani. Even then His action was not one of weakness but was deliberately permitted for our instruction and consolation. Moreover, He knew the glory of His Resurrection, and He looked forward to the wonderful joy and peace which He as the risen Saviour would bring to His friends, His adopted brothers and sisters.

How could He have appeared to His neighbors of Nazareth as a normal boy, “the carpenter’s son,” if His mood had been one of despondency or never ending seriousness? No doubt He was grave and dignified in His public life, but His love of little children and the trusting affection they gave Him in return show that His demeanor was not overwrought with heavy thoughts of His future. In the same way, Joseph and Mary were not glum folk but were accepted by their friends and fellow townsmen as normal, everyday citizens.

This proper picture is most important for our purpose. A one-sided presentation-that the Holy Family exclusively thought of suffering-would be erroneous. Their life could hardly have been the model of Catholic family life in all ages if they had permitted dread anticipation of the future to ruin their happiness constantly. It is interesting to recall that in Our Lady’s Rosary there are only five Sorrowful Mysteries, but ten that are Joyful and Glorious.

In an earlier chapter we spoke of the essential goodness of human nature and of everything created. Now, humor, lightheartedness, and song are creations of God and therefore must be good also. They have their place (and a very important place it is) in the life of every individual and family. True joy belongs to Christianity alone. We see the bleakness of the old pagan religions appearing in the activities of the gods, who were never pictured as laughing, but rather engaged in quarrels, jealous rivalry, and Bacchanalian feasts.

There is a real need of a sense of humor and what is called common sense in family life. Undoubtedly, grave situations do arise at some time or other, but the ordinary husband and wife do not find their existence marked by constant crises. Rather, their life flows evenly, happily, and calmly.

In your own case if you were to dwell exclusively on weighty matters, believing that your religious observance was enhanced in proportion to your somber moods, you would merely be creating a useless trial for yourself and the rest of your family. Sadness cannot come from God but only from the enemy of all that is good.Idleness is not the devil’s single workshop. Depression and moodiness serve him just as well.

The cheery husband and wife at peace with God enjoy life without resorting to all sorts of expedients to have “a good time.” Happiness comes to God’s friends naturally and that is why we know that happiness came to Mary and Joseph in abundance. Even in making the application of the serious lessons in their lives, we must not infer that they knew nothing of lightheartedness. Certainly, they drew their example from Him whose spirit would later animate St. Paul to write, “Rejoice in the Lord always; again I say, rejoice. . . . Have no anxiety but in every prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving let your petitions be made known to God. And may the peace of God which surpasses all understanding guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.

“For the rest, brethren, whatever things are true, whatever honorable, whatever just, whatever holy, whatever lovable, whatever of good repute, if there be any virtue, if anything worthy of praise, think upon these things. . . . And the God of peace will be with you” (Phil. 4:5, 6–9).

THE MAGI

“NOW when Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea, in the days of King Herod, behold, there came Magi from the East to Jerusalem, saying, “Where is the newly born king of the Jews? For we have seen his star in the East and have come to worship him”” (Matt. 2:1–2).

Who were the Magi? This is a much-discussed question to which no certain answer can be given. Probably, however, the “Wise men” were astrologer-priests of the Zoroastrian religion of Persia. Western Christianity thinks of them as the “Three Kings” because the liturgy for the age-old Feast of the Epiphany applies the text of Psalm 71, “The kings of Tharsis and the islands shall offer presents; the kings of the Arabians and of Sheba shall bring gifts; and all kings of the earth shall adore him; all nations of the earth shall serve him.”

When did the Magi come to Bethlehem? Apparently some time had elapsed after the birth of Christ. Since Herod later massacred “all the boys in Bethlehem who were two years old or under” (Matt. 2:16), Jesus was no more than two years old. We know that Herod died at Jericho about 4 B.C. after a lingering illness. He was not ill at the time the Magi visited him; that seems quite certain, for he was still living at Jerusalem. Evidently, then, the Magi visited Bethlehem during the year 6 or 5 B.C. They must have come some time after Christ’s birth, for the journey from Persia to Jerusalem—1200 miles-took three months to a year by camel.

How many Magi were there? Again we do not know! Early Christian art represents two; tradition of Catholics of the Latin rite mentions three; a memorial in the old Roman cemetery of Domitilla depicts four; and the tradition of the Catholics of the Eastern rites favors twelve. The Latin Catholics have called the Magi Gaspar, Melchior, and Balthasar; the Armenian Catholics give them the names of Kagba, Badadilma, etc.; and the Syrians, Larvandad, Hormisdas, Gushnasaph, and so forth up to twelve.

There is the same divergence of opinion about the star which the Magi followed. Some writers hold that it was miraculous; others hold that it was probably an extraordinary conjunction of Jupiter, Saturn, Mars, and another heavenly body. The astronomer Kepler calculated that such a conjunction occurred in 7 and 6 B.C.

By their contact with the Jews the Persian astrologers may have been looking forward to the coming of the Messias, the savior of the world. In their religion they believed that each person on earth was represented by his star in heaven. A most unusual sign in the sky would thus signify to them that the long-expected savior had come, and they would naturally go to the Jewish capital, Jerusalem, to find the exact spot where according to the Jewish prophets the Messias would be born.

For our sketch of the life of the Holy Family a most interesting feature of the story of the Magi is St. Matthew’s incidental comment, “And entering the house, they found the Child with Mary his mother” (Matt. 2:11). This seems to indicate that Christ was born in the stable only because of dire necessity. The Holy Family moved as soon as possible to a permanent residence in Bethlehem.

The Magi presented gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh. Throughout the centuries spiritual writers have made much of the symbolic nature of these presents, but in reality the Magi probably had no idea when they set out on their journey that Christ was God. He would, they thought, be a great man, a savior of his people and of the world, perhaps a powerful conqueror. Accordingly, he deserved the gifts befitting nobility.

It is more than a mere possibility that at the moment the visitors paid their homage to the infant King, a special grace illumined their souls, and they realized that their Creator lay before them, God in human form. The Magi were men of good will. They followed their conscience in what it told them was good and noble, and for this fidelity God was not to be outdone in generosity. He repaid them lavishly here on earth. They were the first Gentiles, representing the entire world, to behold the Redeemer. From this contact with the very source of divine grace they must have won for themselves eternal life in its fullness.

With us, too, God will not be outdone in generosity. Even though we are obliged to obey His commandments by reason of the fact that we are His creatures, in His goodness He will reward us for our fidelity as if we were doing Him a favor. Actually, because He is infinite, He needs nothing. By a triumph of His creative power He brought us out of nothingness, endowed with a free will. In other words He made us such faithful images of Himself that we have something to give Him freely and thus be repaid bountifully.

Of course, our complete reward will not come until we have passed from this life of testing and pilgrimage into the life where the obscurity of faith is removed. Nevertheless, occasions usually occur faintly foreshadowing the munificence with which God will treat us.

You yourself must certainly recall some instance when you were praying for a great favor, some spiritual or temporal grace which you needed urgently and which seemed to be for the good of your soul and body. The favor was granted-and at that moment a spirit of thanksgiving overwhelmed you which made you feel that all the fidelity on your part was as nothing to make you worthy of receiving such a gift. God showed that He would not be outdone in generosity. Yet an experience of this sort can be at best an inadequate preview of the supernatural reward God has promised to those who love Him.

If it were possible to feel shame in heaven, all of us would blush to the roots when we shall see with our own eyes so much from God in return for so little from us. That is why in this present moment we should build our “little” as high as possible, by giving back to our Creator the free will He bestowed on us, by the tribute of our faith in His word, our trust in His promises, our love of His goodness.

As was mentioned in an earlier chapter, this course is not easy to follow when difficulties and discouragement come into your life. It is, however, at such a time that you can merit most, for you draw more on your love in making an act of faith in God’s goodness when bereavement or misfortune strikes. When your temporal fortunes are at high tide, it is easy to be strong in faith.

By way of habit you ought to remember in times of evident blessing and prosperity that other times will come when you will not see so clearly that God is still directing your life. The words of Holy Scripture describe this attitude accurately: “If we have received good things from the hand of God, why should we not receive evil? The Lord has given. and the Lord has taken away; as it has pleased the Lord, so is it done. Blessed be the name of the Lord” (Job 2:10; 1:21).

This is the attitude of absolutely unshakable trust in God that brings down His superabundant blessings. God knows in His wisdom why He permits or sends what He does. We do not grasp these reasons, for our minds cannot comprehend the plans of creation which God has formulated from all eternity and which He is carrying out in time by means of His benign providence. We can, however, have the staunchest conviction that everything God does is for our good. With that attitude we rest content, leaving all our affairs in His hands.

“God will never be outdone in generosity”-that is the principle without exception, ever true. Sometimes you will hear complaints, or perhaps you yourself may be tempted to complain against God’s justice. You read of a lifelong criminal reared in the slums, led astray in his earliest years by hardened sinners, excelling in works of evil, and in the end dying miserably without remorse or the least preparation for eternity. Someone will say, “But the poor man never had a chance! Why should he be damned?”

The answer is simple. We do not know that he is damned. God alone is aware of the state of that man’s soul at the moment it appeared for judgment. We must, therefore, completely reserve all judgment on our part.

A related case of this sort actually happened in one of our large cities, except that the criminal in question was baptized and received into the Church minutes before his death. Here the objection was not that the unfortunate fellow had lost his soul, for according to all external signs he saved it: but good Catholics were heard to complain that such a last-minute conversion was unfair to the faithful souls who had frequented the sacraments, performed arduous works of charity, and had in the words of the parable of the workers in the vineyard,”borne the heat of the day.”

It is correct doctrine that Baptism remits all temporal as well as eternal punishment, so that this particular criminal, dying immediately after Baptism, probably was received directly into heaven. On the other hand, so the complaint ran, the devoted Catholic, baptized in infancy, can die in the grace of God after a lifetime of service, yet some temporal punishment for forgiven mortal and venial sins can well remain, calling for purification in purgatory. “How can God be less fair, less generous?”

Again the answer must be: “Reserve judgment!” God has His own way of evening all scores. Here on earth we see only part of the pattern of His providence. In the next life we shall see it all, and one of the greatest joys of heaven will be the answer to this problem. We shall behold the picture of all creation moving before our eyes, and all along it we shall see that justice and mercy have both triumphed, and God’s generosity has always surpassed by far the generosity of the noblest of His creatures.

In your own life the application is evident. If from your experience thus far you think God is treating you stingily your judgment is wrong. Perhaps you are the one at fault as far as stingy treatment is concerned. If, however, you are doing your best, the best that is in you, wait at least until the moving picture of your life is over. You will have all eternity to decide who has been more generous- you or your Creator. Until then, wait! From the Magi you can learn that you will receive a reward tremendously greater than you expected.

The visit of the Magi to the Infant Jesus has, however, a lesson equally as impressive as that of God’s generosity. Theirs was the occasion of the first “Epiphany,” the “showing-forth” of the Saviour to the Gentile world which the Magi represented. In the early Church this feast, celebrated on January 6, rivaled and surpassed December 25 in liturgical importance (as it still does). The Christians of the first centuries considered the day of Christ’s manifestation to the whole world even more momentous than the day of His birth.

We in our twentieth century cannot easily understand how exclusive the worship of God in the Old Testament had been. The Hebrews were the Chosen People, and to them God confided the revelation of the one true God and the promise of the Redeemer to come. The Jews thus became a people set apart. Theirs was not the mission primarily to spread Jewry to the ends of the earth as the one and the only permanent religion. They were to preserve their heritage free from the abominations of the idolatry practiced by their pagan neighbors. They were to make converts if possible, but even here they were warned against the possibility of being corrupted (as history shows they repeatedly were corrupted) by the example of those with whom they came in contact. Fundamentally, they were to keep pure the worship of the one true God in preparation for the Messias who would make all things new. All this led to the mistaken notion that exclusiveness was an essential feature of the Kingdom of God.

With the appearance of Christ all was changed. The years of promise were over, and the religion Jesus instituted was not to be a religion restricted to any one people or race or land. It was to be truly catholic. “Catholic” means universal, and universal means that it was to be made up of everyone everywhere. The Magi represented the multitudes of the Gentiles who were to accept the new faith when the Chosen People rejected their chance to be the firstfruits of Christ’s redemption.

That is why the visit of the Magi teaches the universality of the good tidings of Jesus Christ. The allness of the Church means that no one in the Church is permitted to treat any human (any potential member of the Church) in such a way as to deprive him of his basic human rights.

All men have immortal souls, for whose salvation Christ died as much as for your own soul. The universality of Christ’s redemption and of His Church brings before us a sharp conclusion: in God’s sight there does not exist any inferior race or inferior people, and we are positively in the wrong and may be sinning against charity and justice if we treat any person unfairly because of his nationality, racial stock, or color.

If we were to act thus, Mary and Joseph would be the first to reprehend us. At Bethlehem there were no sharp looks at a skin darkened by the sun of another land, no curt snubs given in return for sincere good will, no condescension as to inferiors. None of these-for Joseph as head of the Holy Family was a just man, and Joseph knew that all men were sons of the same God, brothers in His creation. He understood that the Infant had come to save all men with no colorline distinction. Joseph treated the Magi for what they were, potential heirs of the Kingdom of Heaven, just as he and Mary were, with all the rights of human beings.

Or did Mary refuse to put the Babe into their arms to let them adore Him as grace told them who He was? The answer is given by the shrines of Our Lady in every corner of the earth. There are madonnas that are Chinese and Mexican and Negro and French and Bohemian and Italian. In every land the Mother of God extends her universal welcome.

If prejudice and early training or an unfortunate incomplete experience with a racial or national minority tend to make us forget the Church Universal, we have only to look at the Magi scene and then thank God that we were not the ones excluded on that day in Bethlehem. Had Christianity been reserved for the Jews alone (who after all, despite shortcomings preserved the knowledge of the true God and fought and died for it throughout so many centuries), would our supercilious treatment of other peoples still remain in us?

Again, it is this same St. Joseph, leading the foreign Magi to the Mother and Son who is Patron of the Universal Church. The Church is Christ’s family, and all of its members are His brothers because He has adopted them as His own in a special way. Mary is its mother, for Jesus gave her to us when He gave her to St. John on Calvary. And Joseph. the foster father and protector of Jesus, thus becomes truly the father and protector of all the Church- everyone, everywhere.

The Magi “found the Child with Mary his mother.” Wherever we seek the Child, we, too, will find Him with Mary His mother. Our best guide to Mary in turn is St. Joseph, he who loves her more than any other creature and who is loved by her to the same degree.

Familiarity dulls our perception. We hear so often of the unsurpassable holiness of the Mother of God that its magnificent attractiveness escapes us. Mary is one of ourselves, with a character so sweet that we cannot imagine its full tenderness.

Her maternal compassion for all in this life is unbounded. Particularly will she aid mothers in their needs, for understanding what it means to be a mother she understands how to love as a mother. To those who are making an effort to carry out the law of God in their lives she is ever gracious. Even to hardened and blinded sinners she is always the mother, seeking her lost children.

In temptation, in difficulties of all sorts, go to Mary through Joseph. Mary will answer in some way or other every petition addressed to her. This is so certain that the Church has approved and indulgenced St. Bernard’s prayer, called the Memorare from its first word in Latin: “Remember, O most gracious Virgin Mary, that never was it known that any one who fled to thy protection, implored thy help, or sought thy intercession was left unaided. Inspired with this confidence I fly to thee, O virgin of virgins, my mother. To thee I come, before thee I stand, sinful and sorrowful. O Mother of the Word Incarnate, despise not my petitions, but in thy mercy hear and answer me, Amen.”

You will never fail to obtain the peace of Christ through your prayer to Mary, for in every instance you will find the Child with Mary His mother.

THE FLIGHT

THE rest of the story of the Magi is well known: how Herod jealously tried to trap Jesus in order to kill Him, and how God in His providence warned the Magi not to return to Herod to tell him the whereabouts of the Babe. Herod made another attempt to murder Jesus, even at the cost of massacring the boys of Bethlehem (of whom there must have been at most forty “two years old or under”). But again the crafty monarch was thwarted, for “when the Magi had departed, behold, an angel of the Lord appeared in a dream to Joseph, saying, “Arise, and take the Child and his mother and flee into Egypt, and remain there until I tell thee. For Herod will seek the Child to destroy him.” So he arose and took the Child and his mother by night, and withdrew into Egypt and remained there until the death of Herod” (Matt. 2:13–14).

Because of the necessity of secrecy Joseph probably did not lead Jesus and Mary to the coast and then southward along it to Egypt; that route was too well traveled. Choosing the more difficult way, he went directly south in order to cross Palestine’s boundaries as soon as possible. The legends locate the Egyptian home in Memphis, but it seems more likely that Jesus, Mary, and Joseph settled in the Jewish colony at Alexandria. Their trip from Bethlehem took at least twelve days and was about 350 miles long. As on that earlier trip from Nazareth to Bethlehem, Mary rode on an ass, but now she was holding Jesus in her arms while Joseph trudged alongside.

Since the Holy Family stayed in Egypt until after Herod’s death (which occurred in 4 B.C.), their exile probably lasted about four years-from 6 to 3 or 2 B.C.

In our past glimpses of the life of the Holy Family we have had several occasions to point out the workings of God’s providence in directing their course. In all the infancy and hidden life of Christ the story of the flight into Egypt teaches more forcibly than any other incident that God’s ways are not man’s ways, and that God in the end always obtains His purposes despite the deliberate attempts of man to frustrate His designs.

Herod was determined to murder the Infant. He craftily plotted in secrecy; God made use of extraordinary means to bring into the open Herod’s hidden designs. The cruel monarch ordered a mass bloody execution; again God, without any great effort on His part (as it would seem to us), removed the Child Jesus and His mother safely from the clutches of the tyrant. Except for the angel’s warning to Joseph, no special miracle was involved.

If we marvel at God’s providence at work (“providence” means “seeing before,” “planning ahead”), equally must we marvel at Joseph’s obedience. Here is the perfect example of a creature’s cooperation with the plan of his Creator. Joseph did not know the future. God alone knew what He was going to accomplish. Joseph blindly obeyed the angel, realizing that eventually he would see that this plan of action was the best because it had been ordered by God. Was it easy for him to act thus-or is it ever easy to act on blind faith in God’s promises? If it were, the good Lord would hardly have rewarded His loved ones so munificently for their faith.

All through His life Jesus seemed to place a high premium on people’s faith in Him and in His divine mission. He knew that they were acting against the sense of pride and material selfsufficiency which dictates, “I know what is best, I have intelligence enough to judge what is good for myself, and I believe no more than I see!”

So often our Lord’s words dealt with faith and its reward. “Thy faith hath made thee whole.” “Amen, I say to you, I have not found so great faith in Israel.” “Because thou hast seen me, Thomas, thou hast believed. Blessed are they who have not seen and yet believed.” “If you have faith like a mustard seed, you will say to this mountain, “Remove from here,” and it will remove.” “Woman, great is thy faith. Let it be done to thee as thou wilt.” Always, the Sacred Heart of Jesus responded most warmly to the persons who had faith in Him, who trusted Him, who believed His words and His prophecies, even though they did not perceive at the moment how He would accomplish His ends.

We can well understand, then, with what joy the eyes of the Babe looked up at St. Joseph and saw him obeying promptly without a word of complaint or questioning. The angel had said, “Take the Child and his mother, and flee into Egypt, for Herod will seek to destroy him.” That was all Joseph needed. “He took the Child and his mother and withdrew into Egypt.”

It is the contemplation of this scene that has brought so many great writers and preachers to point out the rich depths of Joseph’s character. Knowing what we do of Christ’s later appreciation of those persons who had faith in Him, we see now why the Babe beheld His foster father with special approval. In a human way we could venture that Joseph’s faith was enough to make even God marvel and say, “Truly have I selected a remarkable man to be my foster father on earth, a worthy companion and husband for Mary- the wife who had heard from the lips of Elizabeth, that blessed was she who had believed, because the things promised her by the Lord should be accomplished.”

However, our admiration of the workings of God’s providence and of Joseph’s faith and obedience must not stop at mere admiration. Practically, in our own lives we must apply the lessons before us. We must draw strength from the manner in which God justified His wisdom. Difficult times can easily occur when our trust in His providence will be sorely tried. On such occasions we will need all the strength we now have, and perhaps more. God for His part will give us sufficient grace; nonetheless, the struggle can be most difficult, and sometimes the outcome will remain long in the balance.

To understand God’s providence completely is impossible, as we have commented so often. God is infinite, our minds are finite. Here on this earth we cannot see the why and the wherefore of all events because we do not see the whole picture. But for God everything is one eternal present. Before Him lies all creation, from its beginning to its end. He beholds good rewarded, evil punished, and His own justice and mercy vindicated. For us during the time of our pilgrimage and testing we are looking at only the reverse side of the tapestry of creation. Hence, our judgments about divine providence are of necessity woefully incomplete. There is one way of completing their evidence, and that is the way of faith.

On God’s word we know that He is all-good, all-powerful, all-just, all-merciful. Nothing can happen in the world without His permission. We know, too, that He has created man with a free will. By this fact of creation He has implicitly pledged Himself not to interfere directly with the workings of that free will. He will help, He will coax, advise, admonish, but He will never force that will. Of course, we do not deny that there is a mystery here, for while man’s free will ever works in full liberty despite the infinite power of God, nevertheless God’s omnipotence somehow governs all things despite the freedom of man.

Joseph and Mary in their superlative sanctity trusted in God almost automatically. We, however, weak and inclined to sin, must study their reasons for such trust. We have to learn these reasons as a child learns his lessons at school, so that they will be at hand to strengthen us when trials come. At the moment we obey God’s providence, at the moment we trust in His goodness, we will be using the same motives Joseph and Mary used in their marvelous obedience: God is all-good and will never permit us to be tempted beyond our strength.

Our vision on earth is always hampered unless we remember that temporal and created things are only means to our salvation. Life here simply is not the final goal. If it were, death would be the greatest tragedy possible.

After we have done our best, if the cross enters our lives, our attitude should be something of this sort: “O my God, I know from my faith in Your word that You are all-good, all-merciful, and all-just. I know that this trial has come to me by Your own permission.

I believe that You wish nothing but my happiness. I believe firmly that in the end, either in this life or in the next, I shall see how all this suffering is for my own good. Here and now, accepting all this on faith, I welcome what You are sending me. If I ask anything at all, it is for strength to bear this trial generously, without complaint. Sacred Heart of Jesus, I trust in thee!”

Is this apathy? Not at all. An apathetic man shrinks back and refuses to do anything to reject misfortune. He does not have even the positive reaction of accepting for God’s sake a trial which he cannot avoid. Nor is this the stoicism of the old pagans or the spinelessness of the decrepit and debasing religions of the Orient.Active conformity to God’s will elevates human nature, enlightens it, lifts it to the level of the divine plan. Although you yourself do not know the exact reason why God desires this or that course in your regard, you are willing that it come to you because you know that the good Lord has chosen it for you. Relying on His word, you accept it willingly. Such trust can reach the heroic.

This trust in Divine Providence is not a substitute for personal effort. Only after we have done all we can, may we leave ourselves in God’s hands complacently. In such an event our trust will never be fruitless.

Perhaps you can see from all these considerations why the Church has richly indulgenced the act of resignation to death: “O my God, I accept gladly and calmly whatever death it may please Thee to send me with its pain, anguish, and suffering.” To make this act of resignation-or better still, should we not call it an act of conformity?—to make it only once during a lifetime is sufficient to gain a plenary indulgence at the hour of death provided we have confessed our sins, received Communion, and prayed for the intention of the Holy Father at the time we say the prayer.

As a daily habit, offer yourself to Divine Providence every morning. If in advance you accept what God will send for the day, you will be ready in advance. Your strength to bear the light crosses and trials-as well as the occasional heavy ones-will be increased a hundredfold. The offering is simple. It can be made at home in a moment, on a busy street corner, anywhere, anytime.”My God, I accept whatever cross and death it may please Thee to send me, whatever you send this very day.” And why? “ . . . for love of Thee.”

There is the great motive: “for love of Thee.” Your faith has flowered into love, for in making the act of loving conformity to God’s will, you are making at the same time a deep act of faith such as Christ rewarded in all His dear ones. You are trusting the good Lord for all the strength necessary. You have no fear that you will be “snowed under” by troubles.

As we have already insisted, people fear that God will take advantage of their generosity if they explicitly accept what He will send them. No! In the ordinary case they undergo the same trials they would have encountered in any event. The only difference is that they themselves are changed: now no longer complaining or reluctant, but actively conformed to God’s will.

This conformity does not mean that you must feel perfectly calm and happy in your knowledge that you are doing what God wants you to do. The mistake of assuming that feelings are the will is only too common. To put the matter simply, what you deliberately desire is the product of your will, a rational faculty. What you feel is the product of your sense nature.

It is a fact of experience that we do not have complete dominion over our sense nature. Feelings come unwanted and remain even after we wish to be rid of them. In the moral order this rebellion of our sense desires against our intellectual nature is called “concupiscence.” Before Adam and Eve sinned, they were free from concupiscence and had their feelings under perfect control. However, in our own case, because of original sin our sense nature is attracted to all sorts of objects no matter whether they are good or evil. This involuntary attraction is not formally sinful in the slightest degree. Only in an analogous sense can it be called sinful, for by its drawing power it acts as temptation that inclines men to sin.

What we say here of rebellious feelings not in conformity with God’s will is equally true of temptations against faith or against purity. Your rule for judging such thoughts should be this: “Do I want to think of this or not?” If you can truthfully say that you do not want a rebellious, blasphemous, or unchaste thought-no matter how attractive it may feel-you need merely disregard the temptation, treating it with absolute contempt. Because of this disregard the feeling will usually disappear of its own accord because it ceases to receive attention.

In all matters of this kind it is essential to draw your attention into some legitimate, interesting channel. You can easily perceive why it is dangerous to try to fight directly against thoughts of unchastity, complaints against God, or doubts against faith. The more attention you concede such thoughts, the stronger they are to tempt you. That is why the discreet and actually the braver method of action is to conquer them by flight. The testimony of psychologists is very clear: certain types of thoughts should be banished by oblique defense rather than frontal attack.

It is somewhat imprudent to judge yourself according to this norm:

“Did I take pleasure in an illicit thought?” The difficulty in applying this standard to your conduct lies in your inability to find what degree of pleasure was voluntary, to what extent you perhaps consented to it. More safe and reliable is the rule we have already set down: “Did I want it or not?”

Perhaps this further consideration of judging our thoughts seems to have taken us far afield from our glimpse of Joseph’s perfect conformity to God’s will. In reality we have been considering explicitly all that would be implicitly included in Joseph’s method of acting. Since Joseph was so great a saint, he obeyed God in complete peace of heart. We, however, must take more elementary means which Joseph in his heights of generosity did not have to employ, in order to keep ourservice of God from becoming a burden which it should not be. In St. Paul’s words, our service should be reasonable.

All the generosity in the world will be of little avail if we fail to use prudent helps. Our service of God can and should be made at least as attractive as the sin and the selfishness which attempt to draw our hearts with the alluring glitter of their fool’s gold.

For example, in the very instance of conformity with God’s will which we have been considering, let us suppose that you begin bravely to accept every incident God permits to befall you. While following your high ideals in yeoman fashion, rebellious thoughts of one sort or another come into your mind. If you thereupon stop all your progress and concentrate on obliterating these thoughts (out of a mistaken notion that by direct attack you could be free of them), the struggle is exhausting. It would eventually become so one sided that your entire campaign of following God’s will in your daily life would be discarded out of discouragement and disgust. On the other hand, sheer contempt and lack of notice of such temptations would prevent their further effectiveness against you.

Very often the devil does not use violent temptations against good folk who try to serve God as best they can. Such people are too generous, too alert, to fall into an open pit. But they are a prey to a snare-discouragement; and the best hook on which to hang discouragement (as Satan knows from long experience with the human race) is the idea of failure.

On the road to Egypt Joseph might have given in to this discouragement as a result of his apparent failure. After all, who was he? What success had he achieved? God had chosen him to be the foster father of Jesus Christ, God made Man. He was the husband and the guardian of the virgin Mother of God; but to correspond with that dignity what had he accomplished? He was only a carpenter in moderate circumstances at best. When Jesus was born, he could offer Him not even moderate comfort. For some reason or other, despite his best efforts he could find only a stable for the Christ Child.

He was a member of the Holy Family, that was true. Was he worthy to be the foster father of God Incarnate or the husband of the Blessed Virgin, of her who was chosen to be the Mother of God? Amid such sanctity any human being might feel that he is the worst sinner or at least potentially the most craven of souls. And, of all things, Joseph had authority over these two holiest! He, the carpenter of Nazareth, had been made the head of this Holy Family, and he was only Joseph, a failure.

Of course Joseph did not reason in this fashion. He could have done so had he been like ourselves. In these reasonings of false humility we see the virus of discouragement grow out of the thought of failure. InGod’s eyes there is only one kind of grave failure, and that failure is the loss of one’s soul. If you save your soul, you are essentially a success. In God’s sight, no matter how you may have failed in temporalities, you are a success.

In advising someone else it is a very simple thing to dispose of the problem of failure by saying that faintheartedness comes from wounded pride, and that discouragement could be avoided if one were perfectly humble. But it is an entirely different matter to feel in yourself the crippling, crushing burden that weighs down your heart and converts every sweet joy and pleasure into galling reminders of apparently unattainable happiness and satisfaction.

The reasons can be so many. A man starts early in life to found a business. It fails. A woman enters on a promising marriage. She meets sickness, estrangement, or worse. Parents may sacrifice everything they have and everything they are for the sake of their children. The children callously run off into wild, unhappy marriages or lose the faith. All such tragedies cut down the promise of a lifetime at its root and seem to spell but one word: failure.

Of course these are not ordinary occurrences, and they will probably never happen in your life; but you ought to remember the attitude Jesus and Mary and Joseph would have in order to help other people in difficult situations of this type. By means of your warmhearted sympathy you can bring comfort and consolation to those in distress or bereavement, and you can thus accomplish a vast amount of good as an instrument of God’s mercy and love.

Most people occasionally feel they are failures in the little things of life, such as the constant monotony of working for years without promotion, or simply the humdrum raising of a family. Yet as we have repeatedly insisted, this socalled humdrum raising of a family can be a very holy, happy experience; and the spirit of faith and unselfishness in family life is lavishly rewarded by the love and gratitude it evokes in others.

For some persons the idea of failure occurs in their spiritual life. They have been waging a gallant struggle against strong temptation or a strong habit which they never completely overcome. After months and years of successfully making more and more progress, they still feeldiscouraged. The thought strikes them, “Why try any more? You’re still tempted. You’re a failure.”

To such false reasonings there is only one answer needed, just as Joseph would have answered the false difficulties put to him on the road to Egypt: “Sacred Heart of Jesus, I trust in Thee.” The fact is that temptation in itself is never sinful. To resist temptation steadfastly is a great virtue. Perseverance in doing good should have but one result- buoyant inspiration and zest for the future.

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The Child Jesus Part 2

FRANCIS L. FILAS, S.J

INDEX

THE LOSS

“BUT when Herod was dead, behold, an angel of the Lord appeared in a dream to Joseph in Egypt, saying, “Arise, take the Child and his mother, and go into the land of Israel, for those who sought the Child’s life are dead.” So he arose and took the Child and his mother and went into the land of Israel. But hearing that Archelaus was reigning in Judea in place of his father Herod, he was afraid to go there; and being warned in a dream, he withdrew into the region of Galilee. And he went and settled in a town called Nazareth. And the Child grew and became strong. He was full of wisdom and the grace of God was upon him” (Matt. 2:19–23; Luke 2:40).

It is quite noteworthy that Joseph carefully studied the political conditions of Judea before he settled there with his two charges. Finding the reign of Archelaus potentially as dangerous as that of his father Herod, Joseph decided not to reside in Bethlehem but to travel eighty miles farther north to Nazareth in Galilee, which was under different rule. His actions confirm our previous estimate of his great character-a character prudent, brave, trusting in God’s word, yet not presuming that miracles would occur when human foresight and initiative would be sufficient to protect the life of the Christ Child.

We can hardly make the same claim for ourselves in our own lives. When problems arise that call for immediate adjustment, we pray to God for help, almost expecting miracles to solve our difficulties. Of course, the spirit of faith and trust in God that such prayer indicates is highly laudable; and if our prayer is sincere, God will infallibly help us in one way or another. The point to remember, however, is that God in His wisdom has chosen a certain order of providence. The events which we call “ordinary” in this present order would be most stupendous miracles if God had chosen to run this world according to a different plan. Because they happen every day, we often fail to see how unswervingly they point to the wisdom and love of the Creator.

The sun, for instance, rises and sets daily with precision more perfect than that of any clock; and this precision affects not only our one sun with its system of planets and its moon, but the entire vast universe with its thousands of such suns already known to us and its possible billions of which we know nothing. And all these bodies whirl in space so far extended that its huge dimensions lose meaning for our minds.

You yourself speak with a fluent tongue resulting partially from a wonderful system of nervous telegraphy in your body. You present a pleasing appearance because of the health maintained in you by an automatic chemical equilibrium that is far more delicate and self-adjusting than anything possible in our best-equipped laboratories. You work with a stamina governed by the minute secretions of glands whose intricate internal structure and operations are still largely a scientific mystery.

In other words God has chosen a certain order and kind of events within which He is exercising His omnipotence. He wishes us to utilize the facilities which we find at hand in this order. Only as a means of convincing incredulous human nature (and for reasons He alone fully comprehends) will He interfere with the order He has established.

The lesson is simple, yet so hard to learn for all of us. It is the lesson Jesus, Mary, and Joseph have exemplified throughout: Pray as if all depended on your prayers, and cooperate with your prayer by working as if all depended on your work. Nor should you be surprised when your prayer will be answered-most likely in an ordinary way!

Such are our thoughts as we travel north with the Holy Family toward Nazareth. The years of exile are over, and now the Three are returning to the spot which for thirty years will witness the hidden life of the God of all creation. It will be a quiet life of obscurity, so overwhelmingly ordinary as to convince even the most skeptical that Christ actually did come on earth to redeem and to teach the ordinary man and woman, the “man on the street.”

Of the period of the hidden life we are told only one incident—touching, human, yet veiled with mystery-the loss of Jesus in the Temple, and His painful separation from Joseph and Mary.

“His parents were wont to go every year to Jerusalem at the Feast of the Passover. And when he was twelve years old, they went up to Jerusalem according to the custom of the Feast” (Luke 2:41–43).

It was a custom for Joseph and Mary to make the yearly trip to the Temple at Jerusalem to celebrate the Feast of the Passover. Whether or not they took Jesus with them on each occasion we do not know. However, since their Son’s obligations as a Jew would formally begin with His twelfth, or as others claim with His thirteenth year, they brought Him with them on this occasion which St. Luke describes, to perform His duties as a faithful Jew, or else at least to familiarize Him with these obligations.

It may appear puzzling why Jesus, God Himself, would have to be familiarized with the duties of a faithful Jew. Did He not know all things?

As God, indeed, Jesus had infinite knowledge, and as man He received abundantly all infused knowledge He would need for His mission here. However, in addition to this, He willed to be educated and to learn by experience just like every other ordinary person. His purpose was always the same: to be as much like us as possible.

“And after they had fulfilled the days, when they were returning, the boy Jesus remained in Jerusalem, and his parents did not know it. But thinking he was in the caravan, they had come a day’s journey before it occurred to them to look for him among their relatives and acquaintances” (Luke 2:43, 44).

Mary and Joseph committed no fault of carelessness in losing Jesus. For one thing, as He was to say Himself, He willed to remain in Jerusalem as the Eternal Father willed Him to do. Moreover, at the Passover it was customary for the Jewish boys to be grouped in a sort of catechism class. When their caravan would be due to leave the Holy City, they might travel together just as their fathers and mothers traveled in separate groups. After the slow first day’s ride the family groups would reunite at evening at the first khan or caravansary several miles outside of Jerusalem. It was here that Mary met Joseph. Jesus was not to be found.

We can hardly realize how much Joseph and Mary suffered at this moment. In our own lives we question God if He sends us suffering; but can we ever wonder and complain at our lot after we see here the two holiest of God’s creatures being given a cup of sorrow directly from the hand of their loving Son, God Incarnate? From the depths of His own love for Mary and Joseph, Jesus willed to remain in the Temple, knowing the agony which He would cause His parents. There was a higher obedience here which Jesus respected.

Joseph and Mary remembered what the inspired prophets had written. The Messias, the Saviour of the world, was to be a man of sorrows, and He was to redeem mankind by means of suffering. But Joseph and Mary were not God; and from every indication given us by the Gospels, they themselves were not apprised of the exact future, the moment when their Son would lay down His life for His adopted brothers.

The two loved Him as their Son with the love of parents. They loved Him as their God as only the two peerless saints of all ages could love Him. Nonetheless, they were always still His creatures, and they recognized their position perfectly. For all that Mary and Joseph were aware, the time for the Redemption might have arrived. Perhaps at this very moment Jesus was being subjected to the indignities and vicious attacks that were to make Him “despised and the most abject of men.” His parents could not deny that they had lost Him through no fault of their own, but they always felt themselves as the two to whom He had been entrusted.

No exile was hard, no poverty was grinding no suffering counted for anything as long as they possessed Jesus. He was the light of their lives around whom their love centred in a manner which ordinary parents” love for their children only faintly shadows. Now Jesus was gone, and terrible loneliness set in for these two hearts. It was a darkness the extent of which we cannot measure unless we compare it with the greatest of all lonelinesses which Jesus was to let Himself experience in the agony in Gethsemani and during the three hours on the cross.

And yet how all this suffering bound Joseph to Mary and Mary to Joseph! Before, they had been united closely, as closely as possible. Now, that “possible” was increased by this suffering together. They were one as they otherwise never could have been. At this moment of desolation, with Jesus gone-they knew not where or why or how-they had only each other.

In our own day we often pray to our Blessed Mother and offer her our sympathy in this dolor.

What is our sympathy compared to that of Mary’s husband? Do we realize what Joseph meant to Mary in that moment of anguish? His was the heart most closely attuned to hers, emptied of self-love in its love for her. How true it is that God, even while He permits or sends the bitterest suffering, sweetens it with some consolation to make it easier to bear! In this case, when the presence of the Sacred Heart of Jesus was withdrawn from Mary, the heart that comforted her was, after her own, the heart closest to Him whom she had lost.

Suffering is like a powerful drug. Bringing out all the nobility of the human soul, it can bind husband and wife (just as it bound Mary and Joseph) more closely than all the love of prosperous times. On the other hand, if accepted with bitterness and resentment, it acts as a force to separate even the closest of hearts and to expose the selfishness and cowardice that all of us know lie hidden in our hearts.

In your own experience you have undoubtedly witnessed the tenderness of a generous husband toward a sickly wife. Perhaps you have heard a widow courageously tell of her satisfaction that she was the one who was left behind to fight life’s battles, because her “George” or “Bill” or “Tom” could never have fought alone if she had been the one who was taken first by death.

These are the people who in this twentieth century mirror in their lives the mutual support and affection that Joseph and Mary shared on that evening two thousand years ago, when clammy fear gripped Our Lady’s heart and troubled the deep calmthat had characterized Joseph’s conduct in every previous trial.

“And it came to pass after three days that they found him in the Temple, sitting in the midst of the teachers, both listening to them and asking them questions. And all who were listening to him were amazed at his understanding, and his answers. And when they saw him, they were astonished. And his mother said to him, “Son, why hast thou done so to us? Behold, thy father and I have been seeking thee sorrowing.” And he said to them, “How is it that you sought me? Did you not know that I must be about my Father’s business?” And they did not understand the word that he spoke to them” (Luke 2:46–50)

.If Joseph and Mary did not understand at that time the meaning of this desolation, their loss of their dearly beloved Son, how can we expect to do so now? We reverently wait in patience, knowing that one day in heaven we shall understand (as they already have understood) how and why God sent this cross to bless those whom He loved most. Together with Joseph and Mary, we can say that this is our mystery also.

We do, however, learn this with certainty: Jesus evidently willed to separate Himself from His parents to show us that God’s will must come first, above all human ties, even if the preference will cause pain. If the loss in the Temple had never occurred, we in our day might have said, “God willed something in my life which was a source of much pain to me. Was it a punishment of sin? Or am I one of the unlucky ones who are not favourites of the Almighty as were Joseph and Mary?”

Now we cannot have even a pretence of justification for our complaint. The so-called favourites of the Almighty are not wrapped in heavenly bliss during their lives on earth. They have been subjected to obedience to the will of God not only as much as, but tremendously more than we have ever been or shall be. Jesus wished to indicate that His mission on earth was more important than His tenderest and closest ties. Years later, in the Garden of Gethsemani, He would show that His mission was-in a certain sense-even more important than any other consideration in His life: “Father, not My will but Thine be done!”

The conduct of Joseph and Mary is a good example for all parents to follow when they discern the seeds of a priestly or religious vocation in their children. Mary and Joseph perceived that Jesus had reasons of His own for bringing about the temporary separation, painful though it might be; but those reasons were God’s reasons, and it was not in the province of His creatures, even the two closest to the Creator, to dispute them.

Mother and father will discern that their children have reasons of their own for wishing to leave home, and if those reasons are based on the desire to devote their lives entirely to the service of God, mother and father, like Mary and Joseph, will wholeheartedly acquiesce.

Ordinarily, good Catholic parents will make no objection when their children find suitable partners and leave home life to found a family of their own. It is painfully surprising that sometimes these same parents are the most reluctant to permit their sons and daughters to take up lives consecrated to God in the seminary or convent. One of the most common and most shallow of arguments used to dissuade such vocations is the fallacy that the close ties of family life will thus be sundered irrevocably. Actually, a strange paradox occurs. In the religious and priestly life spiritual bonds unite parents and children much more strongly than did the former links of home life. In the case of those children who choose marriage, the objection is not made; yet it is of the very nature of married life that husband and wife relinquish their dependent connections with father and mother in order to devote themselves entirely to each other and to the home of which they are now the new founders.

In the ideal Catholic home parents pray that God will call at least one of their progeny to His service. The honour of serving God specially by His own invitation is an honour bestowed on the whole family. In such a family the entire atmosphere is favourable to the development of a vocation, but at the same time there is no “forcing” of a son to look toward the priesthood or of a daughter to desire convent life.

All imprudent and reprehensible urgings of an overfond parent are definitely out of place in a case where the children themselves evince no desire to follow Christ’s call. They probably have not been called. Moreover, a vocation to the priesthood or to religious life as a lay brother or a nun is an invitation, not a command. To repeat: the proper attitude is neither to exert undue influence where the vocation does not exist, nor to attempt to discourage it where it does exist.

If, however, hindrances are placed in the children’s way, they can well reply in the words of the boy Christ that they “must be about their Father’s business.” A higher call has come to them, and no one has the right to interfere. In cases where interference does occur from an importunate parent, selfishly wishing to monopolize the child’s affection for a lifetime, it can often be traced to the lack of realization that the years of helpless infancy and childhood are over. The once dependent boys and girls are now entering on their own lives, and they begin to possess their own rights.

As parents, there should be no regret on your part that the children have at last arrived at the age of choosing their state in life. This is the time when the grandeur of your vocation as parents is ripening into full maturity. In earlier years you were sowing the seeds of your children’s character by the good example and the training you gave them. Now you have the opportunity of seeing your efforts rewarded. If your son seeks the priesthood, if your daughter wishes to enter the convent, you have the joy of knowing that you have been instrumental in helping to bring forth another life consecrated to the service of God. On the other hand, if your children enter married life, your happiness will be full provided that you have given your own example of holy married life to stand out in their minds as the ideal they wish to imitate directly.

All these considerations look only to the present life. The ultimate norm is eternity. The manner in which you raised your children can be judged correctly in the light of what you did to assist them to save their souls. You have a special interest in those souls. By your own action you cooperated with God’s own creative power. At the moment of conception God cooperated with your parental act to create and infuse those immortal souls whose destiny you were to influence. There was the essential dignity of your parenthood. Its corresponding responsibility was to mold and guide these children entrusted to you. Why, then, should you feel regret and sorrow if you see the members of your family embarking on careers that are likely to bring them safely into their eternal destiny? The only possible regret and worry would be in the event that by your own negligence your children’s salvation would be seriously imperiled.

In another fashion the stewardship of parents may be terminated by the angel of death, taking one of their charges prematurely. It is pitiful to behold the broken hearts of fathers and mothers who have lost children in infancy or at any time before adult life has been reached. By all means it is a most difficult cross, but their sorrow should be softened and sweetened by thoughts such as those on which we have been reflecting. God, the loving Master, has seen fit to take an account of His stewards earlier than ordinary. The child was entrusted to his Catholic father and mother to be prepared for eternity, as every child is entrusted. God has taken him to heaven perhaps before the inevitable frailties of human nature could tarnish the freshness of the gift of sanctifying grace he received in Baptism.

As for the parents, their work is done with regard to their youngster. They can look forward now to a family in two worlds, represented by a saint in heaven praying for his brothers and sisters and father and mother still on earth.

These are not merely comforting thoughts enunciated here for the solace they impart. They participate in the absolute truth of our faith, and they are not true because they are comforting, but they are comforting because they are true. Bereaved parents can look to the bereavement of Joseph and Mary as they seek Jesus in the courts of the Temple. From Joseph and Mary they will receive the peace of Christ, and solace and hope in the day when once again their family like the Holy Family shall know the satisfying joy of reunion-reunion in God.

THE HIDDEN LIFE

“AND he went down with them and came to Nazareth, and was subject to them; and his mother kept all these things carefully in her heart. And Jesus advanced in wisdom and age and grace before God and men” (Luke 2:51–52).

Jesus returns with His parents to Nazareth, and Holy Scripture draws a veil over the hidden life of the next nearly twenty years. The Son of God faces the vast task of redeeming the world. At the same time with the purpose of being our perfect model He chooses to live a life of obscurity, prayer, and obedience amid the drab monotony of commonplace everyday life.

If we would ask a proof that Christ came on earth to teach us by His example, the hidden life at Nazareth should more than satisfy us. Very few people are in the limelight. Most of us find our lives extremely ordinary. Even the relatively few who mount to fame find that the glamour and the glory soon pass, and that their private lives are fundamentally just as obscure as those of the rest of their fellows.

Throughout His life on this earth Jesus was constantly making use of common things to teach us the ways of holiness. In the sacraments He elevated such everyday materials as water and oil and bread and wine into signs that impart the grace of God Himself. So, too, He did in the case of this most common of all commodities-obscurity. By taking on Himself an obscure life He wished to show all men that holiness was possible and was easily attainable in a life known only to God, hidden from the world, perhaps even despised by arrogant worldlings for its lowly seclusion.

Christ’s obscurity, however, was not only that of an individual; it was also that of a family. Jesus recognized that a very small proportion of families would have to undergo persecution similar to that which beset the Holy Family in those early years, as when after the divinely foreseen circumstances of the Nativity and the visit of the Magi there followed the hostility of a jealous king, the need of flight to a strange land and exile there. Christ was aware of all this; and although the lessons of His first years were immensely valuable, nevertheless He willed to approach now closer to the life of the average family. He approximated this average life so closely that it would seem St. Luke finds nothing special to relate of it-no miracles, no preaching, no teaching of new and sublime doctrine, none of the intense martyrdom of suffering which the Passion and Crucifixion were later to bring.

How successfully Jesus, Mary, and Joseph played their part in the humdrum town life of Nazareth can be judged by the incredulous remarks of their neighbours when later they refused to believe in the divinity of Christ’s mission. “Is not this the carpenter’s son? Is not his mother called Mary?” (Matt. 13:55.)

What, then, does Christ’s obscurity mean for us? It means that we are not to give up striving for a more perfect service of God merely because our life is ordinary, humble, average.

More important, however, must be our utilization of Christ’s obscurity to resist temptations against trust in God as our loving Father. Such temptations cleverly allege, “You aren’t anyone in particular-why should God care for you?

-you don’t have the great sanctity of Mary and Joseph and the saints-you are living in family life out in the world, not in a monastery or convent. Why do you think that Almighty God should have a special place in His heart for your concerns and your prayers?” The temptation is insidious. Worse still, it is very, very common. Only God knows whether or not it succeeds in preventing people who live in the world from loving Him trustingly and with an open heart.

Christ’s obscurity brings to the fore one salient fact: the value of our life is measured only by what we are in God’s sight-not by any human standard, not even by our “feelings” that we are more or less progressing in our religious duties. God alone sees our will. He alone knows our strength and the graces given to help us. He alone is aware of the full nature of the difficulties that beset us. Hence, He alone is capable of judging us worthy of reward or punishment. Fame in the world means absolutely nothing in itself with regard to our salvation and perfection. How we might use that fame is, of course, important; but whether or not we are known by millions or by a handful, our positionin God’s sight is shielded from the prying gaze of the world. For God our true value lies in the inner life of humility, patience, and the other virtues. This is the life hidden with Christ in God, ever to be cultivated and esteemed above all else.

The lesson of obscurity is not difficult to understand when applied in this manner to the difference between worldly and supernatural standards. More involved (because requiring more supernatural faith) is the application of obscurity to purely supernatural matters. For example, a great preacher works many conversions from his sermons; a radio orator succeeds in spreading universal good will toward the Church; deathbed repentances and conversions are multitudinous; huge numbers of people outside the Church die in apparent good faith, and in all likelihood have saved their souls by obeying God as their conscience indicated to them. Who prayed and worked and suffered for all this apostolic harvest? Christ’s merits, of course, primarily brought it about; but cooperation with grace is also required, and in God’s providence the grace to cooperate with another grace often seems to depend on the prayer or the good deed of some generous soul, offered for the purpose.

Do you see now what is meant by “supernatural obscurity”? You may be living your life in what you think is a very ordinary way. In God’s sight, on the contrary, you are waging a courageous battle against temptation; you are fulfilling the duties of your state of life with superior fidelity; and in general you are consistently carrying out the two great commandments of love of God manifested in love of neighbour. What of the graces you are possibly winning for the spread of Christ’s spiritual kingdom? The fact that you may be ignorant of their existence does not nullify their efficacy, nor does it make your actions less pleasing in God’s sight. In this manner a life that exteriorly appears to be very ordinary and very average may in reality be highly effective in the supernatural order. This is the exercise of charity not merely for the good of the body but also for the benefit of the soul.

Christ our Lord referred to the reward awaiting charity when He described His position as judge at the great final Judgment: “Come, blessed of my Father, take possession of the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world; for I was hungry, and you gave me to eat; I was thirsty, and you gave me to drink; I was a stranger, and you took me in; naked and you covered me; sick and you visited me; I was in prison, and you came to me.

“Then the just will answer him, saying, “Lord, when did we see thee hungry and feed thee; or thirsty, and give thee drink? And when did we see thee a stranger, and take thee in; or naked, and clothe thee? Or when did we see thee sick or in prison, and come to thee?” And answering, the King will say to them, “Amen, I say to you, as long as you did it for one of these, the least of my brethren, you did it for me” “ (Matt. 25:34–40).

Jesus revealed in these words how much good is accomplished without its recognition in this life. In the case of supernatural obscurity, where good deeds win graces for the spread of Christ’s kingdom, the application is equally as strong as if those good deeds were done for the welfare of the bodies instead of the souls of others.

Another benefit to be derived from the sight of Christ’s obscurity is a new motive against failure: a confidence that no failure can crush. If all our essential value lies only in what we are in God’s sight, then what we are in the sight of the world means nothing in case we fail, even miserably. True, our feelings may perhaps react strongly, and our selfappreciation may decline because of our inability to establish ourselves in social or business prestige; but basically, deep down in our soul, we possess ourselves in peace.

We cannot lose our trust in God when we lose our fame or fortune, because we know invincibly that fame and fortune are worthless in God’s reckoning. Men and women with no religion, with no faith in an all-good God who will never desert them or judge them unfairly—these are the ones who, when temporal disaster crushes them, seek to compensate for their loss by temporarily drowning their sorrow in sin, or even by cutting off their existence in this world.

How different is the case with the person who recognizes his obscurity and perceives that his actual success is to be weighed by what God reads in his soul! A businessman of the author’s acquaintance was an almost complete failure throughout his entire career. He died too penniless to be a bankrupt. Nonetheless, his was a holy death, for he had always striven to serve God and his fellow men, to be a faithful father and husband, a generous provider for his family. Financially he accomplished nothing. Again and again throughout the years his best efforts seemed to amount to a sort of anti-Midas touch that blighted and withered what had previously been successful business ventures. The secret of his constant confidence for the future, the hope that buoyed him up even in his darkest moments, was this knowledge that his conscience gave him: “What you are in God’s sight, counts. What the world thinks you are, does not count. Try again. God knows you are trying, and that you are not succeeding, but it is for no selfishness or sin on your part. Try again.” It was this supernatural faith and trust that not only bore up his morale but even saved his reason.

Such are the lessons of the obscurity of the hidden life. No matter what the conditions of your life may be, sanctify them by offering them to God Almighty as so many prayers of adoration, thanksgiving, reparation, and petition. This, your “hidden life” on earth, will be the glorious life in God’s sight which you will see credited as merit when your turn comes to stand before the tribunal of our blessed Lord.

Another great lesson of the Holy Family at Nazareth lay in the prayer they constantly practiced. Jesus, of course, was God, but in His created human nature He could and did pray to His Father.

We must always remember in speaking of Jesus that His Incarnation is a mystery of mysteries, second only to the fact of the Blessed Trinity in being august and unfathomable. by our intellects.

Jesus was divine, the Second Person of the Blessed Trinity and God by nature equal to the Father and the Holy Spirit. He united in Himself the nature of God and the nature of man. How this was accomplished we cannot understand. We simply know that it was done, and that it was by this means that He could pray to God His Father while being God Himself.

Since the Holy Family observed the Jewish law in its perfection, we can deduce quite accurately what prayers they recited. The Psalms, of course, were the favourites. Three times a day Jesus, Mary, and Joseph said the Tephillah, “The Prayer,” consisting of eighteen long invocations and blessings. Joseph (and later Jesus when He attained to manhood) was obliged to say the Shema, a sort of profession of faith in the one true God, twice daily.

A very interesting Jewish custom of prayer that must have been observed in the house at Nazareth was that of the Mezuzah, “the doorpost,” and the “phylacteries,” small square calfskin boxes with Scripture texts written on parchment inside them.

One of these texts was part of the Shema that Joseph recited:

“Hear, O Israel, the Lord our God is one Lord. Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with thy whole heart and with thy whole soul and with thy whole strength. And these words which I command thee this day shall be in thy heart; and thou shalt tell them to thy children, and thou shalt meditate upon them sitting in thy house, and walking on thy journey, sleeping, and rising. And thou shalt bind them as a sign on thy hand, and they shall be, and shall move between thy eyes. And thou shalt write them in the entry, and on the doors of thy house” (Deut. 6:4–9).

This injunction was taken so literally that Jewish men would bind the phylacteries on the left arm and the forehead when saying the prescribed prayers. The Pharisees went much further and strictly enjoined the constant wearing of ornate phylacteries, but the common people (among whom St. Joseph would be counted) did not follow so strained and exaggerated an interpretation of Holy Scripture. Hence, Joseph probably wore them at prayer time alone.

On the doorpost of the house at Nazareth was fastened a wooden tube containing a rolled parchment inscribed with the passage quoted above from the Book of Deuteronomy and another passage (11:13–21) citing the blessings of serving God. On entering and leaving the house the members of the Holy Family would piously touch this Mezuzah, saying, “May God keep my going out and coming in from now on and forevermore.” All this was intended to show reverence for the word of God.

Such was the vocal and the more or less formal prayer which Jesus, Mary, and Joseph offered in their home at Nazareth. In their hearts, however, they prayed always. Just as the Heart of Jesus was constantly united with His divinity, so were the hearts of Mary and Joseph so closely bound to God that their every action was a prayer.

“But,” you say, “how did the Holy Family find time to be ordinary people, as their neighbours certainly understood them to be, if they were praying constantly?” The answer is better given by another question: Why should constant prayer make anyone less neighbourly? As a matter of fact, the difficulty here rests on the false assumption that prayer necessarily entails many words, a long face, and an austere disposition.

This is only one of the popular misconceptions of the nature of prayer. As long as such false ideas might persist, it would be well-nigh useless to urge the imitation of the spirit of prayer that prevailed at Nazareth. For this reason and for the sake of encouraging and advancing those who already pray well, we must explain in some detail what is meant by genuine prayer.

Volumes have been written on how to pray, yet essentially everything they have expounded and everything we will describe here is based on the definition of prayer. In other words, if you are raising your heart and mind to God, you are praying. Whether you use words or not, whether you say much or little, you are genuinely praying if your intention is directed to “talk” to God.

There are countless ways of praying. The misunderstanding of the true nature of prayer has resulted from an artificial limitation of its meaning to perhaps one type, namely, vocal prayer. Vocal prayer is that which follows a set formula, usually composed by some one else. It has undoubtedly great value, but it is not the only way of talking to God.

The other type, far more easy to practice at all times and in all places, is mental prayer. Here we speak to God as friend to friend, exactly as our heart dictates. There need not even be any words expressed on our part. For example, you can visit the Blessed Sacrament and let the good Lord in His holy sacrament “shine” on you from the Tabernacle. You need say nothing. Merely sit in His presence, united to Him by the love of your friendship with Him.

Another kind of mental prayer is “contemplation,” where you mentally behold, in the Ignatian application of this word, some event transpiring inChrist’s life. This is a sort of mental moving picture.

Still another type is called “meditation” in the formal meaning of the word. In meditating you tell God your reaction to what you are considering. Is it hard or easy? Do you think you would wish to act that way or differently? Do you need help to do so? Do you wish you could be better in practicing this virtue or in avoiding that fault?

Then there are those fascinating combinations of vocal and mental prayer that we call “aspirations” or “ejaculations.” Some modern writers have colourfully described them as “quickies.” That is what they are, for you recite the aspiration so quickly that you don’t have time to be distracted! In a second or two you can say, “Lord, I love you,” or “Jesus, Mary, Joseph, help me always,” or “Sacred Heart of Jesus, I trust in Thee,” or “Mary, conceived without sin, pray for us who have recourse to thee.” You can use these ejaculations in crowded buses and streetcars, out in the open country or in the busy city, a few times each day, or just as often as you please, all without the mental fatigue that eventually results from protracted prayer.

Another method of combining vocal and mental prayer is to recite slowly to yourself some simple prayer which you like, such as the “Our Father,” the “Hail Mary,” or the “Hail, Holy Queen.” Say it lingeringly and rhythmically, perhaps a word for every breath. If you have leisure and sufficient quiet to attempt more concentrated prayer, stay on each word of these prayers as long as you find relish in it.

The essential thing to remember is that prayer is the candid talk of one friend to another, of yourself to God. While you must, of course, remain respectful, you should not let your respect frighten you from being familiar in your prayer. Prayer is something very private, and you have a right to speak to God in the intimate relation of creature to Creator, friend to Friend.

Moreover, you should not restrict yourself to the prayer of petition, that is, asking God for what you require in order to live a better life spiritually and temporally. Your prayer should have other purposes also. For example, express your gratitude to God for the benefits He has bestowed on you, on your family, on the Church, on our country and the world. Or make reparation to God for so many sinners who are deliberately offending Him. You can make further reparation, too, for sins and negligences in your own life.

These three types of prayer-petition, thanksgiving, and reparation-are more or less related to the benefits God has given us. The fourth kind, the prayer of adoration, is in itself more selfless. When we adore God and praise His goodness, His mercy, and His justice, we are adoring Him not for what we have received from Him but for what He is in Himself. On some occasion when you would like to pray mentally but do not feel inclined to attempt any particular subject, pay homage to God Himself in the prayer of adoration. The Divine Office of the Church-its official prayer- consists mainly of the Psalms, which themselves are made up largely of sentiments of praise and adoration.

In any discussion concerning prayer the question usually arises, “How can I pray always? I have necessary occupations to attend to, I have legitimate recreations and lawful pleasures. How can I pray while engaged in them?”

Pray by offering these good actions as your prayer. A most effective practice of this sort is the Morning Offering of the Apostleship of Prayer. “O Jesus, through the Immaculate Heart of Mary, I offer Thee my prayers, works, and sufferings of this day for all the intentions of Thy Sacred Heart, in union with the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass throughout the world, in reparation for my sins, for the intentions of all our associates (in the Apostleship of Prayer), and in particular for the intention selected this month by our Holy Father, the Pope.”

Throughout the day renew this intention occasionally. It can be done very simply and briefly by some such aspiration as “All for Thee, O Jesus,” or “I wish to do everything for love of Thee, my God.”

What we have said up to this point has pertained chiefly to prayer on the part of the individual. There is also the most perfect prayerof all, the Mass, the renewal of Christ’s sacrifice on Calvary. In the Mass we are privileged to unite ourselves with the priest in order to offer God the spotless sacrifice of adoration, praise, reparation, and thanksgiving. You will appreciate and relish the Mass much more deeply if you follow the actions and words of the celebrant with a missal of your own, containing the translation of all the prayers said at the altar.

However, for the purpose of this book one group prayer must receive special emphasis, the family Rosary. The custom of saying the Rosary privately is most praiseworthy; the practice of the family recitation is the logical extension of this prayer of Our Lady, and can hardly be recommended too strongly.

Again and again in crises of the Church the popes have called on the Queen of the Rosary for help. In fact, the entire history of the devotion of the Rosary simply repeats how strikingly Mary came to the aid of the Church on each occasion she was petitioned through the group recitation of her Rosary.

St. Dominic was the first to preach the Rosary as a successful spiritual weapon against the Albigensian heresy in the 13th century. In 1571 the Turks were defeated at Lepanto, and Europe was thus saved from Mohammedanism at a moment when the Catholic world was reciting the Rosary in petition for so all-important a victory. In 1716 the Moslems were turned back in Hungary, again at a time when the confraternities of the Rosary at Rome were conducting solemn public prayers for the success of the Christian cause. In fact, the power of the Rosary so impressed Pope Leo XIII that during his pontificate he issued twelve encyclicals in order to urge Catholics all over the world to pray the Rosary. The fortunes of the Church in those days were in dire and precarious straits. Leo could think of nothing that was possibly more efficacious than the Rosary.

In our present day, we, too, together with the Church are passing through a grave crisis. Family life has been derided, abused, and neglected to such an extent that some observers think that the family has already been destroyed. Such a pessimistic outlook we do not accept; nonetheless it is a timely warning of social deterioration that must be heeded. The family is the building block of society, the foundation of our whole modern civilization. Not only the practice of religion and the advancement of culture, but our entire modern society together with all the rights of man as a human being would be wiped out if the family were destroyed and state nurseries were put in its place.

The attacks have come from without as well as from within. Those from within the family are the more to be feared. Healthy family life can always combat successfully external adversaries. But family life cannot be healthy if divorce, race suicide, and the shirking of responsibility guide the men and women who are to bring children into the world and who are to educate them to reach their eternal destiny by means of a Christian life in this world.

Divorce, race suicide, the shirking of responsibility-these are the internal enemies so much more devastating than any others can possibly be. Hence, the practice of the family Rosary has come to the fore particularly in our times to fight them. The Holy Spirit in His guidance of the Church has inspired our popes, bishops, priests, and faithful to pray the Rosary as the most efficacious means of gaining assistance against the powers of evil undermining family morality and family existence.

Not only does the family Rosary bring down blessings by way of Mary’s intercession. In itself, looked at from a purely natural point of view, it is a bond of union. When the members of a family meet daily for ten to fifteen minutes of common prayer, they are guaranteed at least one sacrosanct period when business and social engagements will not interfere with corporate life at home. This union in prayer links the minds and hearts of all present. Supernaturally, Christ is among them in a special manner. “Where two or three are gathered together for my sake, there am I in the midst of them” (Matt. 18:20).

The Rosary is so powerful a prayer because it depicts the chief mysteries of our Redemption in a manner most pleasing to Mary and to God. In the short, easy meditations on each Joyful, Sorrowful, and Glorious mystery, there stands out the part of Mary as the humble handmaid of the Lord in whom He accomplished mighty things. The merits of Our Lady are presented to Jesus again and again, so that He in His goodness bestows particular graces in order to honour His mother. She had been all-faithful in her service of her Creator and Redeemer. With Jesus she cooperated intimately in the work of His Redemption. So, too, does she cooperate with Him in intervening to distribute the fruits of His Redemption in order that it may be more effective.

The very derivation of the name “rosary” indicates the homage of Our Lady which it embodies. During the Middle Ages as formerly among the Romans, persons of royal blood wore crowns of flowers called chaplets. As the custom grew with the passing of centuries, the chaplets became crowns of gold presented to kings and princes as tokens of submission and honour. In Mary’s case the rosary is a triple chaplet-three crowns made up of roses of Hail Mary’s and Our Father’s, during the recitation of which the story of Mary’s part in our Redemption is lovingly and gratefully recalled.

At Nazareth the Rosary, of course, could not be said. Something greater was done. In the hidden life of obscurity, prayer, and work, Jesus, Mary, and Joseph were drawing the pattern for every future family-a pattern which all members of every Catholic family should examine and imitate as from eldest to youngest they recite their family Rosary together.

Obscurity, prayer, work-these were the three great characteristics of the Hidden Life. We have already seen the lesson taught us by the obscurity and prayer of the Holy Family at Nazareth. There remains a final summation-the dignity of labour.

To the ancient pagans manual labour was disgraceful, but to the Christian work is ennobling. The lesson of the Holy Family is too clear to deny. God Himself in human form took up the trade of a carpenter. Mary His mother performed all the household tasks just like every other wife and mother of her time. Joseph supported Jesus and Mary by his earnings as village carpenter. That is the true picture. We cannot improve on the facts, the reality. The Holy Family engaged in labour; therefore, no one can think himself degraded by engaging in labour. On the contrary, if we offer our work as prayer, we raise its value even higher. Pope Pius X composed an indulgenced prayer to St. Joseph, patron of working people, that expresses concisely the Christian attitude toward labour. It summarizes also for us the lessons of the Holy Family’s work at Nazareth.

Glorious St. Joseph, model of all who devote their lives to labour, obtain for me the grace to work in the spirit of penance in order thereby to atone for my many sins; to work conscientiously, setting devotion to duty in preference to my own whims; to work with thankfulness and joy, deeming it an honour to employ and to develop by my labour the gifts I have received from God; to work with order, peace, moderation, and patience, without ever shrinking from weariness and difficulties; to work above all with a pure intention and with detachment from self, having always before my eyes the hour of death and the accounting which I must then render of time ill spent, of talents wasted, of good omitted, and of vain complacency in success, which is so fatal to the work of God.

All for Jesus, all through Mary, all in imitation of you, O Patriarch Joseph! This shall be my motto in life and in death, Amen.

(500 days” indulgence, S. Paen. Ap., 28 Mar. 1933.)

Reluctantly we close the chapter on the hidden life of obscurity and prayer and work and intimate family union at Nazareth. The years are passing on, and the paths of Jesus, Mary, and Joseph will soon begin to separate. The years of preparation for Jesus are over. God’s work of redemption must be accomplished.

SEPARATION

IT IS quite certain that St. Joseph died before Christ began His public life. When the infuriated Nazarenes tried to ridicule the sublimity of Christ’s doctrine by naming His living relatives and thus showing how common He was, they neglected to mention His foster father (Matt. 13:55). Our strongest argument, however, is drawn from Christ’s words on the cross. To St. John He said, “Son, behold thy mother.” And to Our Lady, “Woman, behold thy son” (John 19:27). It was Joseph’s right as well as his obligation to care for Mary. The only reasonable explanation for Christ’s action of commending His mother to St. John must be that Joseph had already passed away, to await the day of his resurrection with Christ.

By reason of the fact that he died in the presence of Jesus and Mary, Joseph has rightly been chosen by the popes as the patron of the dying. Because of his closeness to the Son and the mother, he has the greatest intercessory power with them; and because of the circumstances of his death-in the arms of Jesus and Mary-his patronage is doubly fitting.

Joseph’s death before the public life began was providential. Had he lingered on in his position as “father” of Jesus, he might have hindered the effectiveness of Christ’s preaching and Christ’s manifest claims to be divine. With Joseph’s passing the holy trinity on earth was temporarily separated. For Jesus and Mary it meant the end of the quiet, long years of calm and happiness spent with him. The moment for Christ’s great redemptive act was close now, and with it there also approached the initiation of Mary into her vocation as co-redemptrix, queen of martyrs, and mother of the Church.

What a farewell -an au revoir in the strictest sense-that was at Nazareth! The work of Joseph the just man was completed, and with the absolute conformity of his will to the will of his foster Son, he wished that there might be accomplished in him only thatwhich would further the cause of saving souls through Christ’s atonement. This was the moment, too, when Joseph received from the lips of the Mother of God and from God Himself the words of gratitude for all he had done for them. There were no regrets, no fruitless bitter sorrow. It was the model deathbed, a lesson for all time.

Joseph must have mused gently over the past. Seemingly there had been nothing in his life to mark him as outstanding. He had been just another citizen of the Empire, to his fellowtownsmen, “only Joseph.” A good neighbour, a quiet fellow, one who would help in time of need-yes, he had been all of these, but thoroughly ordinary, as ordinary as any man of Nazareth. That was how he thought of himself.

After all, of what could he boast? Of money? Hardly that, for with all his diligence he was able at best to keep his family in moderate circumstances. His royal blood? No, he was too candid to bask mentally in the long-vanished glory of the stock of David. He knew that his worth lay in what he actually was, not in what his ancestors had been.

How could he ever forget how it had all begun! In that stalwart early manhood he had been a suitor for the hand of Mary when he first realized that a special Providence was gently changing the course of his life. There was the espousal, the agonizing perplexity, the angel’s revelation bringing floods of peace, the virginal marriage to the very Mother of God.

And how those next events stood out, vivid and fresh in his memory! The manger in the cave at Bethlehem, the hasty departure by night for Egypt, the careful return to Nazareth, the heartbreaking separation in the Temple incident, and then the years of obscurity and labour that were so happily spent in the company of Mary and Jesus.

Always deep down in his heart he had realized that he possessed a treasure infinite, a treasure whose secret he was chosen to guard. Mother and Son had been entrusted to him from on high. He, Joseph the carpenter of Nazareth, was the shadow of the Eternal Father on earth. On his labour had depended the life and the well-being of the Word Incarnate. And yet-he was always only Joseph, in himself nothing, but by some unfathomable design of God raised to the position most privileged among all men of all time.

His own strong, toil-worn hands had guided the fingers of Him who had fashioned the universe. He had seen the lesson those other hands were teaching for all ages-work is good, work has dignity, work can be made a meritorious prayer. Could he lead others to imitate that example of his Son?

And here, as he lay dying, he saw the end of his task on earth. In obscurity he had always lived, in even greater obscurity he was passing away. In the life of the Church his memory was to remain equally obscure for a thousand years until in God’s own time, when the doctrines of Christ as God and Mary as Virgin Mother were clearly established in the minds of men, he would begin to appear in his true worth. But he would always be “only Joseph,” lovable, the friend of all. . . .”Jesus, Mary! Mary, Jesus!” . . . The end had come.

The house was silent. The two who remained saw their task yet before them. It was the will of the Father in heaven, and that was all that counted.

So, too, in your family life, there must inevitably come a day when you or your loved ones will see the hand of death take a child, a husband and father, a wife and mother. In the first shock of bereavement the dull sense of emptiness may perhaps lead to a deeper sense of hopelessness.

But Jesus and Mary and Joseph have gone before. Death is the end of the time of testing, the completion of the life that must have sorrows mixed with its joys. The pilgrimage is over for the soul that has passed from the shadows of faith to the clear light of eternal reality.

For those who remain behind, the house is silent. They see their task yet before them. It is the will of the Father in heaven, and that is all that counts.

St. Joseph’s happy death can lead our thoughts in only one direction: our own preparation for a happy and holy death when our time comes. In an earlier chapter we touched on the peace which a well-lived life brings at the moment it draws to a close. The courageous and steadfast fulfillment of your family obligations will bring about a tranquil conscience which will withstand all worries and fears at the hour you realize that your pilgrimage on earth is soon to end.

For you as a Catholic, however, another factor will be most important in helping you to die well as you have lived well-your use of the sacraments, particularly HolyEucharist, Penance, and Extreme Unction. In fact, St. Joseph’s intercession often shows itself most strongly in the manner in which Joseph’s friends are provided with the last sacraments to be with them on their last journey.

In general, our Catholics are well aware of the doctrine relating to the Blessed Sacrament and its marvellous effects. Thanks to the decree of Pope Pius X in 1905, frequent Communion has become a custom, and daily Communion commonplace among the faithful. But with regard to Penance and Extreme Unction, especially as sacraments preparing for a holy death, rather widespread misunderstanding exists which hinders the full utilization of their sacramental benefits. Hence, several cardinal points must be clarified concerning these two sacraments.

Above all else Penance is the sacrament of peace, because outside of it, ordinarily no greater assurance can be obtained on this earth that God has forgiven sin and has completely restored the sinner to His friendship. Christ our Lord instituted the sacrament of Penance primarily in order to remit all serious sins committed after Baptism. He also wished that the sacrament exercise a secondary effect as well. When received by a person who has no mortal sins to confess, Penance bestows an increase of sanctifying grace and grants extra special helps of actual grace to combat temptations and faults.

One misunderstanding regarding Penance is that it cannot be received unless the penitent has committed mortal sin since the last confession. In reality, such is not the case. It is sufficient either to mention a few venial sins of which you are aware, or to make a general accusation of some sin from your past life (and here, too, a venial sin is sufficient). In this manner you are able to gain the special graces which only Penance can impart.

Of course, all mortal sins committed since the preceding confession must be mentioned, although if any are forgotten in good faith, they are indirectly forgiven by being included in the act of contrition of the penitent and in the absolution of the priest. If later they come to mind, they should be specified in the next confession not in order to be forgiven (for they have already been remitted), but in order that the law of Christ concerning the confession of mortal sins might be fulfilled. This is why mortal sins are called “necessary matter” for confession in distinction to venial sins, which are called merely “sufficient matter.”

Although at least one venial sin must be confessed in order to provide this “sufficient matter” (if there is nothing serious to mention), there is no obligation to confess all venial sins inasmuch as they can be forgiven outside of the sacrament by means of an act of contrition, the offering of other prayers, or the performance of good works. Nonetheless, all venial sins are forgiven in every good confession provided that the penitent includes them at least in a general, implicit fashion in his declaration and acts of contrition, including his purpose of amendment.

By submitting venial sins to the tribunal of Penance, part at least of the temporal punishment is remitted. Venial sins do not incur any eternal punishment because while they are flaws in our friendship with God, they by no means constitute the wanton ingratitude and treason which we call mortal sin. In the present state of human nature our faith tells us that no one can go through life without committing venial sin, unless he or she has been given a very special grace. Our Blessed Lady certainly enjoyed this privilege, and we piously believe, St. Joseph. In our own case, however, we know how easily we fail. Anger, jealousy, manifestations of selfishness, rash judgments, hesitation in repelling temptation-these are some of the faults that mar our perfection but can be gradually eliminated from our conduct.

There is one particular circumstance which calls for explicit mention. Let us suppose that by some misfortune serious sin has been committed and confession at the moment is impossible. Must mortal sin remain on the soul?

God in His goodness has given the weakness of our human nature a first-aid remedy even in this instance. An act of perfect contrition will remit mortal sin provided there is included at least implicitly the desire to receive the sacrament of Penance and thus have the mortal sin forgiven officially. Such serious sins must be mentioned in the next confession. To make such an act of contrition, we must regret having sinned because we have offended God Himself, who in Himself is all-good, all-worthy of our love. In other words the motive for perfect contrition is love of God. This is more than is required for confession, where only an act of “attrition” is requisite-that is, sorrow for sin arising from a motive of fear of punishment or detestation of the malice of sin in itself. But this sorrow is not to be without wholesome acknowledgment of, and reliance on, God’s mercy and love.

Such are the general principles regarding the use of Penance as a remote preparation for a happy and holy death. The frequent reception of the sacrament throughout your life will deepen ever more and more the serenity that characterizes the children of God and the adopted brothers and sisters of Jesus. In a sense, Penance is always a “last sacrament” because it provides a fund of supernatural peace to offset any worry or fear that may arise when the unpredictable moment of death approaches. Sins from one’s past life are so positively forgiven when subjected to the sacrament of Peace, that years later there can be absolutely no ground for umeasiness concerning them.

The misunderstandings regarding Extreme Unction are even more erroneous than those concerning Penance. Very many Catholics dread the moment when the priest must be called to administer Extreme Unction, as if by that very fact they or their loved ones will necessarily die. Often they delay the moment of reception as long as possible, so that a recovery is no longer to be hoped for and sometimes death has already supervened.

Extreme Unction has been called the “cinderella of the sacraments” for the reason that it is associated in the popular mind with inevitable death. Yet how different and consoling is the true doctrine! As the Church teaches us, Christ wished to provide salutary remedies against all the wiles of the enemy of human nature. Satan utilizes every occasion throughout the whole of life in order to attempt to trap souls; but at no time is he more active than at that instant when he perceives that his last chance of seducing a faithful Christian is at hand.

The main purpose of Extreme Unction is to fortify the soul at this critical moment of serious illness. In addition, the sacrament forgives sin and remits temporal punishment just as does Penance, in case the sick person cannot confess sins for which he or she is sorry. Extreme Unction also cleanses away the “remnants of sin.” Finally, if it be expedient for the soul, Extreme Unction restores even bodily health. Daily experience confirms this teaching of the Church, for apparently desperate cases yield to treatment on many occasions only after Extreme Unction has been administered. The testimony of non-Catholic as well as Catholic doctors on this score is not difficult to obtain.

All these effects are indicated in the words of St. James, who in his Epistle promulgated what Christ had previously instituted. “Is any one among you sick?” he writes. “Let him bring in the presbyters (priests) of the Church, and let them pray over him, anointing him with oil in the name of the Lord. And the prayer of faith will save the sick man, and the Lord willraise him up, and if he be in sins, they shall be forgiven him” (James 5:14, 15).

As a practical rule in every household, the priest should be summoned as soon as there is a prudently probable danger of death. The sacrament will by no means make death inevitable. Instead, it may effect a cure of the body, if expedient as it will impart strength to the soul. And if God wills that the soul should now pass on to its judgment and reward, the reception of Extreme Unction will guarantee confidence in God’s mercy as well as sentiments of love, fervour, and ineffable peace. This, the moral certainty of possessing sanctifying grace and merit in God’s sight, is truly what we call a happy death. It will be our means of imitating the death of Joseph in the arms of Jesus and Mary.

EPILOGUE

AFTER Joseph passed away, the Two quietly went about their daily tasks, realizing how soon they would be parted. During those days before His leave-taking Christ supported His mother by the products of the carpentry Joseph had taught Him. These were precious days; and Jesus and Mary, intensely and perfectly human as they were, appreciated the last quiet moments mother and Son would spend together before the shadow of the cross became the cross itself.

Finally there came the morning of departure. Jesus was to leave out-of-the-way Nazareth to meet the hostility of the world in founding a Kingdom of God that would last into eternity. Mary understood all that this meant. From her long years of closest contact with God, her Son, her heart was one with His. She knew that as His mother she would be closest to Him in His suffering. But all this did not matter. She loved Jesus, loved Him as only the most exquisite person created by God could love Him. Her union with Him consoled Him far more than any other creature could do. In her love for Jesus she did not forget that after the Passion and death would come the Resurrection, the triumph of the cross and of Christian truth over Satan and the self-indulgence and rebellion that is sin.

She would visit Jesus occasionally while He was preaching and teaching and healing during His public life, but never again on this earth would she have the unutterable joy of living constantly in His presence, day and night, under the same roof, sharing the same table, teaching Him in whom are all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge.

These years at Nazareth with Joseph and Jesus had been Mary’s period of consolation, given her for the purpose of strengthening her for the awful moment when the full weight of the burden of the Queen of Martyrs would descend on her soul. It was the love of the Giver which she desired at all times, and in His present gifts of peace she could see only Him.

After Jesus” departure the little house at Nazareth would be empty, the memory of its two menfolk recalle d constantly by the sight of the things they had made and handled. Mary would be left alone with her thoughts, her work, her prayers. Yet would she ever be really alone? No, in those prayers she would constantly unite herself with Jesus, her Son and her God. He would be doing the work for which He had come down to earth. She knew that now; and there was not that sickening uncertainty and dread that had struck St. Joseph and herself when the Child had been lost in the Temple some twenty years ago.

Would the Three ever be united again? There was no doubt of that. In God’s own time Jesus and Mary and Joseph would transplant the spirit of their home at Nazareth to a new home in eternity, and the Holy Family would live together in heaven, always the model of family life, watching over fathers and mothers and children, encouraging them, loving them. But that was not yet to be. The moment of farewell had come . . . now.

We leave the final leave-taking of Jesus and Mary to themselves. It is a scene too intimate, almost too ethereal in its winsomeness to attempt to portray, even inadequately at best. In the privacy of our hearts, however, we kneel close to the Two, just where they want us ever to be. There is a last affectionate embrace of mother and Son, no weeping for sorrow on their part. But as we ourselves look on, the poignant beauty of Mary and Jesus overwhelms us, and we can look no more for our tears.

Jesus turns, walks for the last time through that doorway through which long ago He had taken His youthful steps. But now, carrying the load of punishment for the world’s sins, He gravely wends His way down the narrow, crooked street. At its bend, as He turns toward the open road and the world beyond, He waves to His mother. She stands in the doorway, waves back. Shestands . . . our thoughts look ahead. . . .”At the cross of Christ, her station keeping, stood His mother, close to Jesus to the last.”

Our sketch of the family life of Jesus, Mary, and Joseph is ended. In your own life by your frequent meditation on the Holy Family you can extend their lessons further so that you imitate them more closely and love them more dearly. And you can offer them yourselves-your husband or wife, your children, your family-in your life consecrated to the Holy Family of Nazareth.

“O Jesus , our most loving Redeemer, who having come to enlighten the world with Your teaching and example, willed to pass the greater part of Your life humbly and in subjection to Mary and Joseph in the poor home of Nazareth, thus sanctifying the Family that was to be an example for all Christian families, graciously take to Yourself our family as it dedicates and consecrates itself to You this day. Defend us, guard us, and establish among us Your holy fear, true peace, and harmony in Christian love; in order that by conforming ourselves to the divine pattern of Your family all of us without exception may be able to attain to eternal happiness.

“Mary, dear Mother of Jesus and our Mother, by your kindly intercession make this our humble offering acceptable in the sight of Jesus, and obtain for us His graces and blessings.

“O Saint Joseph, most holy Guardian of Jesus and Mary, help us by your prayers in all our spiritual and temporal necessities; that so we may be enabled to praise our divine Saviour Jesus, together with Mary and you for all eternity.”

(Our Father, Hail Mary, Glory be to the Father, thrice. 500 days” indulgence S. Paen. Ap., 20 Oct. 1935.)

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The Christ of Flesh And Blood

BY REV. PATRICK CLEARY, D.D

INDEX

NOTE

This booklet was published originally by the Indian . . . under the title, “The Living Personality of Christ,’ and was re-published by the . . . of Ireland under the same title. The striking title now used is taken from a passage in the Foreword which appeared in the old edition: “All love to hear of the Christ-the Christ of flesh and blood, the Christ of the children and the flowers, the Christ of the Prodigal Son and the Wandering Sheep.”

EDUCATION AND ENVIRONMENT

CHRIST, though born at Bethlehem, belonged to a remote little village in the out-of-the-way province of Galilee. So little did men think of it that the guileless Nathaniel thought to dismiss for ever the question of the divine mission of Christ with the words of scorn: “Can anything good come out of Nazareth?”1 It was a hillside village where one would not expect, in those days, either culture or learning. Humble, too, were His parents; humble were they even among the Nazarenes, for there is subtle innuendo in that query of the neighbours when, later, they were surprised at the doctrines which fell from His lips: “How came this man by all these things? . . . Is not this the carpenter, the son of Mary, the brother of James, and Joseph, and Jude, and Simon? Are not also His sisters here with us?”2 As much as to say: “What could one expect out of Joseph the carpenter’s workshop?”

We know nothing of Jesus’ childhood or boyhood. The query I have given suggests that He got no education; and the later query of the Jews: “ How doth this man know letters, having never learned?”3 bears out the same conclusion. In all probability His life was prosaic enough. He had to run errands for His mother; He played in the streets with other little ones of the village. There was, we may be sure, very little of the glamour which apocryphal writers love to fling round His childhood days; the authors whom we are following pass, with true historical instinct, over those first twelve years of His life without the narration of a single incident, except the flight into Egypt.

Then suddenly the veil is lifted, but only for a moment. The scene is changed to the Temple of Jerusalem, that gorgeous creation of Herod’s, which was the pride of the entire Jewish nation. We pass through its many courtyards, our ears deafened by the clangour of money-changing or of the clamour of the dealers disposing of their wares for sacrificial purposes; we pass up the steps and enter one of the rooms where the theologians of the day were in Council gathered listening to the words of wisdom which fell from the lips of this twelve-year-old youngster from Nazareth. His parents, we are told, found Him “sitting in the midst of the doctors, hearing them and asking them questions. And all that heard were astonished at His wisdom and His answers.”4 Well might they be astonished if they fully realised his antecedents.

Once more the curtain drops on eighteen years of the boyhood and manhood of Christ. It is dismissed with the simple words : “He went down with them and came to Nazareth, and was subject to them.”5 Once more the prosaic life of the villager, this time learning His trade in Joseph’s shop, and trying to meet the wishes of his rustic customers.

YET CHRIST WAS AN ORATOR

“Can any good come out of Nazareth?” queried Nathaniel. Could one in reason expect that the product of such circumstances would prove an orator on whose words gentle and simple would hang in rapt amazement; an orator Who spoke with an eloquence unequalled by the greatest orators for its sublimity, simplicity, and literary finish. Shakespeare, we are told, learned at his school little Latin and less Greek, yet he became a great poet; there is, however, the difference that Shakespeare in later days had opportunities such as few dramatists have had, for he moved amongst the elite of the litterateurs of his day. But the Man from Nazareth never had this good fortune, for He stepped forth after His thirty years in the carpenter’s shop into the first place among the preachers of His day. Even the Baptist, than whom a greater was not born of woman, was eclipsed by the glory of Him to Whom he bore testimony: 1. John i. 46. 2. Mark vi. 3. 3. John vii. . 15. 4. Luke ii. 47. 5. Luke ii. 51. to Him “the latchet of Whose shoe he was not worthy to loose.”6

Men left their quiet homes and avocations. Matthew left his comfortable position in the counting house; Peter and James and John broke up their Fishing Company; Bartholomew left his books; they all left everything and followed Him. Left everything, did I say? Yea, left everything, for when He was asked to show His home to a would-be follower, He replied: “ The foxes have holes and the birds of the air nests, but the Son of Man hath not where to lay His head.”7 And they left all, for He sent them forth with the injunction: “ Do not possess gold, nor silver, nor money in your purses; nor scrip for your journey, nor two coats, nor shoes, nor a staff . . . Behold I send you as sheep in the midst of wolves . . . for they will deliver you up in councils, and they will scourge you in their synagogues, and you shall be brought before governors and before kings for My sake . . . and you shall be hated by all men for My name’s sake.”8 Great indeed, must have been the power which could so sway the hearts of men; great the power which could make the multitudes follow now in their four, now in their five thousands without food or sleep, till He had compassion on them and produced a miraculous repast for them from some bread and fishes. Great indeed must have been the eloquence which made His enemies admit that “never did man speak like this man.”9

THE SIMPLICITY OF HIS STYLE

And yet His language was simple. He drew His similes from the ordinary things of everyday life. But He used them with consummate skill to illustrate truths which even the Jews, with their centuries of Revelation, had never known, or never grasped. . The flowers of the field; the corn by the wayside; the nets of the fishermen; the sand on the shore; the shepherd and his sheep; the housewife and her broom; the water-carrier and his leathern bottles He pressed into His service to point a moral or stamp a doctrine on the simple imagination of His hearers.

Let us see how He does it. The Jews were, and had been, a worldly race who set much store by the goods of the world, and many a time had turned their backs upon the Lord for the flesh-pots of life. It had required the Patience of a God to bear with their back-slidings; He had hedged them around with loving care; He had sent them His prophets and they killed them, till in despair, He cried out: “What is there that I ought to do more to My vineyard that I have not done to it?”10 “ Jerusalem, Jerusalem,” cried out the Christ in despair one day, as He gazed on the city from a neighbouring hill and thought of the things that were, and that would be: “ Jerusalem, Jerusalem, that killest the prophets and stonest them that are sent to thee, how often would I have gathered thy children as the bird doth her brood under her wings, and thou wouldst not?”11 And this is the same people to Whom Christ preached His doctrine, that they should not take care for the morrow’s food, but should love their Lord and God; this the people to whom He said: “ If any man will follow Me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow Me” ;12 and again: “Therefore I say to you, be not solicitous, for your life, what you shall eat, nor for your body what you shall put on. Is not the life more than the meat, and the body more than the raiment? Behold the birds of the air, for they neither sow nor do they reap, nor gather into barns; and your heavenly Father feedeth them. Are not you of much more value than they? And which of you, by taking thought, can add a cubic to his stature? And for raiment why are you solicitous? Consider the lilies of the field how they grow; they labour not, neither do they spin: But I say to you, that not even Solomon, in all his glory, was arrayed as one of these. And if the grass of the field, which is to-day, and to-morrow is cast into the oven, God doth so clothe: how much more you, O ye of little faith?”13 “Are not five sparrows sold for two farthings, and not one of them is forgotten before God? Yea, the very hairs of your head are all numbered. Fear not, therefore, you are of more value than many sparrows.”14

And again: “ Lay not up to yourselves treasures on earth, where the rust and moth consume, and where thieves break through and steal; but lay up to yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither the rust nor moth doth consume, and where thieves do not break through nor steal; for where thy treasure is there is thy heart also. “15

Or take this other illustration drawn from everyday life, instilling the same doctrine, and watch carefully the development of the thought: “ A certain man made a great supper and invited many. And he sent his servant at the hour of supper to them that were invited, that they should come, for now all things were ready. And they began all at once to make excuse. The first said to him: I have bought a farm and I must needs go out and see it; I pray hold me excused. 6. Luke iii. 16. 7. Matt. viii. 20. 8. Matt x. 10–22. 9. John vii. 46. 10. Isaias v. 4. 11. Luke xiii. 34. 12. Mark viii. 34. 13. Matt. vi. 25 seq. 14. Luke xii. 15. Matt. vi. 19

And another said: I have bought five yoke of oxen, and I go to try them; I pray thee hold me excused. And another said: I have married a wife, and therefore I cannot come. And the servant returning, told these things to his lord. Then the master of the house being angry, said to his servant: Go out quickly into the streets and lanes of the city, and bring in hither the poor, and the feeble, and the blind, and the lame. And the servant said: Lord, it is done as thou hast commanded, and yet there is room. And the lord said to the servant: Go out into the highways and hedges, and compel them to come in that my house may be filled. But I say to you, that none of these men that were invited shall taste of my supper. And there went a great multitude with Him, and turning He said to them : If any man come to Me, and hate not his father, and mother, and wife, and children, and brethren, and sisters, yea and his own life also, he cannot be My disciple. And whosoever doth not carry his cross and come after Me, cannot be My disciple.”16 Strange, very strange talk, this, from a mere carpenter of Nazareth.

THE SUBLIMITY OF HIS TEACHING

Then consider the sublimity of the doctrine which He taught; its sublimity as distinct from the form in which He clothed it. He singles out for special inculcation the virtues which are most difficult for human nature, and speaks of them with that easy familiarity which betrays the fact that He is himself a past-master in their exercise: “ You have heard that it hath been said, an eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth. But I say to you not to resist evil; but if one strike thee on thy right cheek, turn to him also the other; and if a man will contend with thee in judgment and take away thy coat, let go thy cloak also unto him. And whosoever will force thee one mile, go with him other two. Give to him that asketh of thee, and from him that would borrow of thee, turn not away. You have heard that it hath been said, thou shalt love thy neighbour, and hate thy enemy.

But I say to you, love your enemies; do good to them that hate you; and pray for them that persecute and calumniate you; that you may be the children of your Father Who is in heaven, Who maketh His sun to rise upon the good and bad, and raineth on the just and the unjust. For if you love them that love you what reward shall you have? Do not even the publicans this? And if you salute your brethren only, what do you more? Do not also the heathens this? Be you therefore perfect, as also your heavenly Father is perfect.”17

And again:” “When thou dost an alms-deed, sound not a trumpet before thee, as the hypocrites do in the synagogue and in the streets, that they may be honoured by men. Amen, I say to you, they have received their reward. And when thou dost alms, let not thy left hand know what thy right hand doth, that thy alms may be in secret, and thy Father who seeth in secret will repay thee. And when you pray, ye shall not be as the hypocrites, that love to stand and pray in the synagogues and corners of the streets, that they may be seen by men . . . but thou when thou shalt pray, enter into thy chamber, and having shut the door, pray to thy Father in secret, “18 He had no place for the hypocrites who prayed long prayers that they might be seen by men; rather He preferred the humble prayers of the publican who, hidden away at the door of the temple, cried from the bottom of his heart : “Oh, God, be merciful to me a sinner” ;19 and He thought more of the widow who dropped her mite into the alms-box than of the wealthy who cast their rich gifts into the treasury: “ Verily I say to you, that this poor widow hath cast in more than they all.”20

He preached humility and love of the poor, in a way that these doctrines had never been preached before. When the disciples of John came to inquire if He were indeed the Messiah, He told them to tell John what they had seen: “The blind see, the lame walk, the lepers are made clean, the deaf hear, the dead rise again, and”-last but conclusive proof-”to the poor the Gospel is preached.”21 When His disciples were puffed up at the thought of the high places which they were to hold in the new kingdom, He told them that He had come not to be ministered unto, but to minister unto others;22 that the disciple was not above the Master;23 and He gave practical proof of His readiness to make a servant of Himself when He set Himself to wash the feet of His disciples.24

HE LIVED UP TO HIS TEACHING

He not merely preached this high code of ethics;, He lived up to it. He fasted, but He retired into the desert to do it;25 and so little were His mortifications seen by men that the Pharisees charged Him with being a wine-bibber and a 16. Luke xiv. 16 seq. 17. Matt. v. 39 seq. 18. Matt. vi. 2 seq. 19. Luke xviii. 13. 20. Luke xxi. 3. 21. Luke vii. 22. 22. Matt. xx. 28. 23. ;Luke vi. 40. 24. John xiii. 5. 25. Matt. iv. 1. glutton. Knowing the insincerity of the men who had levelled these charges at Him, men who would have found other excuses to vilify Him if this were not to hand, He one day rounded on them, and in an eloquent piece of denunciation He thus trounced them: “ Whereunto shall I liken the men of this generation? And to what are they like? They are like to children sitting in the market-place and speaking to one another, and saying: We have piped to you and you have not danced; we have mourned and you have not wept. For John the Baptist came neither eating bread nor drinking wine, and you say: He hath a devil. The Son of Man is come eating and drinking, and you say: Behold a man that is a glutton and a drinker of wine, a friend of publicans and sinners.”26

He prayed, but when He prayed it was away from the haunts of men. “. And it came to pass in those days, that He went out into a mountain to pray, and He passed the whole night in the prayer of God ;”27 and again, “ It came to pass about eight days after these words, that He took Peter, and James, and John, and went up into a mountain to pray,”28 and again, “ having dismissed the multitude He went into a mountain alone to pray. And when it was evening, He was there alone,”29 and so on. No trace here of the spirit of the Pharisees who said long prayers in the market-places that they might be seen by men.

His heart went out to the lowly and the sinners. It was one of the charges against Him that He was a friend of publicans and sinners.30 He frequently championed them against their self-satisfied neighbours. When Mary the Magdalen, came to Him in the house of Simon the Pharisee, and anointed His feet to the disgust of His host, who concluded in his heart, from the action, that Christ was no prophet, else He would not have tolerated the presence of the Magdalen, He quietly turned to Simon, and said: “Simon, I have somewhat to say to thee.” And when He had done, Simon was not worth much.31

And again, when they brought to Him a woman taken in adultery to discover if He was prepared to apply the penalty of stoning imposed by Moses on such sinners, His heart went out to the poor creature whose sin He found less heinous than the hypocrisy of the self-righteous Pharisees, and He championed her thus: “But Jesus bowing Himself down, wrote with His finger upon the ground. When, therefore, they continued asking Him, He lifted up Himself, and said to them: He that is without sin among you, let him first cast a stone at her. And again stooping down, He wrote on the ground. But they hearing this, went out one by one, beginning at the eldest . . . Then, Jesus, lifting up Himself, said to her: Woman, where are they that accused thee? Hath no man condemned thee? Who said: No man, Lord. And Jesus said: Neither will I condemn thee. Go, and now sin no more.”32

On the Cross, too, He was true to His teachings and His life. There is a wealth of meaning in the pathetic “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do,”33 though they were still hurling their mockery at Him: “Bah, if thou be the Son of God, come down from the Cross,”34 and “He saved others, Himself He cannot save.” Again, to the poor thief who had been touched with pity and love at the sight of such nobility as the Christ had displayed, and had tried to stem at least the insults of his fellow-thief, He turned with the words of forgiveness and consolation: “This day thou shalt be with Me in Paradise.”35

But it is needless to multiply instances. We have the parable of the Prodigal Son,36 that parable which has brought hope to many a despairing heart, and set it once again on the way of righteousness; the parable of the shepherd,37 who leaves the ninety-nine in the desert and goes to seek for the lost one of the flock, and having found it brings it home on his shoulder, and calls the neighbours to rejoice because the sheep that had been lost is found.

Yet for all this His enemies could never convict Him of a single fault though He repeatedly challenged them to convict Him of sin, and when He was brought before Pilate and Herod, for all their false testimony the verdict was that they found no guilt in Him.38 “ I have sinned,” said Judas, and Judas ought to know, “in betraying innocent blood.”39

NEITHER SNOB NOR DEMAGOGUE

His was a character at once gentle and firm. “Suffer the little ones to come unto Me,”40 He said in mild reproach to the Apostles when they would drive away the mothers who would insist on crowding around to hold up their little ones for His blessing. “Unless you become as little children you shall not enter the kingdom of heaven.”41 He had 26. Luke viii. 34. 27. Luke vi. 12. 28. Luke ix. 28. 29. Matt. xiv. 23. 30. Matt. xi. 19. 31. Luke vii. 36 seq. 32. John viii. 3 seq. 33. Luke 34.34. Matt. xxvii. 40. 35. Luke xxiii. 43. 36 Luke xv. 37. Id. 4. 38. Luke xxiii. 4. 39. Matt. xxvii. 4. 40. Mark x. 14. 41. Matt. xviii. 3. compassion on the multitude as He looked over the unhappy ones who were straying as sheep without a shepherd.42

To oblige His mother and save a newly-married couple confusion at their marriage-feast, He anticipated the time of public mission and worked a miracle;43 He healed the daughter of the Syro-phoenician mother who pleaded so pathetically with Him that He would extend His mercy to an outcast race: “ Even the whelps eat of the crumbs which fall from the table of their master.”44

He knew how to yield when there was no principle at stake; but He was absolutely inflexible when there was a question of principle. He would not yield an inch when the rich young man, who had observed the commandments from his youth, was not prepared to sell all and come and follow Him. Rather did He prefer to let him go away sorrowful with his great possessions,45 and take as His disciples men like Peter who left, or were prepared to leave, their all, though it was but a fishing-boat and a few nets, to follow Him.46 No, He was no snob, and He hated snobbery in all its forms. “ It is easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle, than for a rich man to enter into the kingdom of heaven,”47 He said, and His words cannot have been palatable; and that parable of Dives and Lazarus48 must have offended the polite susceptibilities of the Jewish grandees. But He would not mince matters. They might, as they did, sweep Him to the verge of a cliff to throw Him over in their rage; they might threaten to stone Him; they might gnash their teeth at Him, yet calm and collected He continued to inveigh against their hypocrisy and their hardness of heart. Listen to this from Him of whom John had said: “The bruised reed He shall not break and smoking flax He shall not extinguish,”49 this unforgiveable invective against the masters of the land: “ Woe to you, Pharisees, because you love the uppermost seats in the synagogues, and salutations in the market-place. Woe to you, because you are as sepulchres that appear not, and men that walk over, are not aware . . . Woe to you lawyers also, because you load men with burdens which they cannot bear, and you yourself touch not the packs with one of your fingers. Woe to you who build the monuments of the prophets: and your fathers killed them . . . Woe to you, lawyers, for you have taken away the key of knowledge: you yourselves have not entered in, and those who were entering in, you have hindered . . . Beware ye of the leaven of the Pharisees, which is hypocrisy.”50 And on one occasion He bade one of the Pharisees take back the answer to Herod who threatened to kill Him: “ Go and tell that fox: Behold! I cast out devils and do cures to-day and to-morrow, and the third day I am consummated.”51 The money-changers He drove headlong from the temple beneath His lash, because they had made God’s house a den of thieves.52 He never deviated a hair’s breadth from an odious duty, though it meant an ever-increasing accumulation of enemies.

Nor was it that, by thus lashing the great ones of the day, He hoped to curry for Himself popular favour; nor did He work His miracles for any such purpose: “Go now and tell no man,”53 was a very frequent injunction of His. Yet His fame did get abroad and spread through all that country, and frequently He had to fly lest the people should come and seek to make Him king.54 And all this time He was completely dependent on the alms of the people: we may be sure from the way that He defended the action of His disciples in plucking the ears of corn on the Sabbath day that they were in need of food when they did so;55 we may be sure that He Himself went without scrip for His journey as He directed His disciples to do, and we find that when He urgently required a coin to pay the temple tribute for Himself and His disciples He had to work a miracle to enable Him to do s0.56

CHRIST WAS KIND

He was a Man of warm, kindly disposition, Who poured Himself out in love of His fellowmen. The gospels sum up His work in the few simple words: “He went about doing good.” He gives us some of the details Himself, in a passage which I have already mentioned: “ The blind see and the lame walk, and the lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, and the dead rise again, and the poor have the Gospel preached unto them.”

Wherever He saw human suffering, there His kind heart was stirred to immediate action; a power went out from Him and He healed all. Now it was the raising to life of the only son of a mother: “and she was a widow,”57 the scripture significantly adds; again, it was the healing of a woman who had an issue of blood twelve years, and who had bestowed all her substance on physicians and could not be healed by any;58 again, it was the expulsion of a devil 42. Mark vi. 34. 43. John ii. 44. Matt. xv. 27. 45 Mark x46. Matt. iv., 20. 47. Matt. xix. 24. 48. Luke xvi. 19. 49. Matt. ix., i 20. 50,Luke xi., xii. 51 Luke xii. . 32. 52. Matt. xxi. 53. Matt. viii. 4; Mark, viii., 26. 30; Luke v., 14; vii., 54. John vi. 15. 55. Matt. xii. 1. 56. Matt. xvii. 26. 57. Luke vii. 12. 58. Luke viii. 43. from the son of a distracted father who cried out in his agony: “ I believe, O Lord, help my unbelief”;59 yet again, with groaning and anguish of spirit at the sorrow of Martha and Mary, He summoned Lazarus from the tomb into which Mary dreaded to look, for he had been already interred four days.60

He was ever preaching the doctrine of brotherly love, or as He sometimes put it, love of the neighbour. “Love one another as I have loved you,”61 is His counsel to His disciples. Love is the fulfilment of the Law; do unto others as you would wish others to do unto you, and this without distinction of race or of clime: the Samaritan is a neighbour as much as the Jew. Such were the teachings of this great Master.62

THE GREAT TEST OF CHRIST

And then came the last great test of His virtue, an ignominious death as a common criminal on a cross. Fully acquainted with all the horrors of the death that was before Him, His nature shrank from them, yet facing it manfully, He bent His will before His Father’s will, and humbly prayed: “Not My will but Thine be done.” To Judas, His betrayer, He is kind, and allows him to imprint the kiss of treachery on His cheek, though it must have burned to the marrow of His bones; to the taunts of Pilate and Herod He answers never a word; to Peter’s emphatic assertions that he knew Him not, He merely listened with sorrow, and turned on the coward such a look of sadness that Peter rushed abroad and wept bitterly; through His agony He preserved such a calm dignity that Pilate wondered exceedingly; and even amidst His dying anguish He had a thought for the penitent thief, for the people who were crucifying and reviling Him, and above all, for the mother who loved Him, for He committed her to the care of the beloved disciple, apparently the only Apostle who followed Him to Calvary.

RATIONALISTIC TESTIMONY -THE PERFECT MAN

Christ’s was a noble character as even the enemies of the Christian Faith were prepared to admit. Take the following from Mr. Lecy, the Rationalist historian, who certainly could not be suspected of overpartiality to Christianity: “ It was reserved for Christianity to present to the world an ideal character, which through all the changes of eighteen centuries has inspired the hearts of men with impassioned love; has shown itself capable of acting on all ages, nations, temperaments, and conditions, has been not only the highest pattern of virtue, but the strongest incentive to its practice, and has exercised so deep an influence that it may be truly said that the simple record of three short years of active life has done more to regenerate and soften mankind, than all the disquisitions of philosophers, and all the exhortations of moralists.” (European Morals, Vol. II). Men of the type of Rousseau have so expressed their admiration of His doctrine and perfection that one wonders how they found themselves still unbelievers; men of the type of Harnack, the German Rationalist critic, are lost in admiration at the sublimity of the moral teaching of Christ: He is a man, they say, Who has rest and peace in His own soul, and can give life to the souls of others.

WAS HE GOD?

And this paragon of all perfection repeatedly claimed to be God. And He did so deliberately, as one having perfect consciousness of what He spoke about. One does not require such conditions as Christ required of His followers ,if one merely wishes to build up a school of admirers, and if one is not convinced of the reality of one’s mission. “ If any man come to Me, and hate not his father, and mother and wife, and children, and brethren, and sisters, yea, and his own life also, he cannot be My disciple. And whosoever doth not carry his cross and come after Me, cannot be My disciple.”63 He insisted to the letter on the fulfilment of such conditions when He refused to admit the young man who had great possessions unless he sold all and gave to the poor, and when to another He said: “Follow Me, and let the dead bury their dead. “64 And was it an invitation likely to tempt a following when He told them: “You shall be hated by all men for My sake.”

No; such a One must have spoken as One having power, and He must have spoken in a way to convince His hearers. And, indeed, He was sufficiently explicit in His claims to be God. He claimed to be One with the Father, and to have come from the bosom of the Father. “Before Abraham was made, I am,”66 He replied to His interrogators, in 59. Mark ix. 23. 60. John xi. 39. 61. John xv. 12. 62. Luke x. 29. 63. Luke xiv. 26. 64. Matt. viii. 22. 65. Matt. x, 22. 66. John viii. 58. the very words that God used to Moses from the burning bush when He said: “ I am Who am,”67 and His claim was so well understood to be a claim to divinity that His hearers thought. He blasphemed and took up stones to cast at Him.

“I am the Way, and the Truth, and the Life,” He said on another occasion . . .”If you had known Me, you would without doubt have known .My Father also; and from henceforth you shall know Him, and you have seen Him. Philip said to Him: Lord, show us the Father, and it is enough for us. Jesus said to him: so long a time have I been with you, and have you not known Me? Philip, he that seeth Me, seeth the Father also. How sayest thou, show us the Father?”68

He had no hesitation in setting Himself over as law-giver against God Himself. “You have heard that it hath been said, an eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth . . . But I say to you, love your enemies.”69 Could any but such as believed himself to be God arrogate to himself such authority?

But enough; right across the fare of the Gospels is the claim of Divinity, and in proof of His claim He points to His miracles. Of the fact of His claim there can be no doubt, explain it as we will.

And how are we to explain it? How, except by an admission of its truth?

WAS CHRIST DECEIVED OR DECEITFUL?

The possibility that Christ was an upstart and a false prophet can at once be ruled out. It is too much to suppose that He Who was admittedly the most perfect of men should have been consciously a deceiver. We do not find those who are consciously deceitful too ready to seal their deceit with their blood, yet, we find Jesus, still comporting Himself with the same calm dignity as of old, dignity such that we are told Pilate wondered exceedingly at it-we find Him once more, asserting His claim at a time when they were prepared to use it in testimony against Him. “And they brought Him to their Council, saying: If thou be the Christ, tell us. And He saith to them: If I shall tell you, you will not believe Me. And if I shall also ask you, you will not answer Me, nor let Me go. But hereafter the Son of Man shall be sitting on the right hand of the power of God. Then said they all: Art Thou then the Son of God? Who said:. You say that I am. And they said: What need we any further testimony? For we ourselves have heard it from His own mouth.”70 Once again we have the Christ confronted with His enemies after that terrible night with the Roman soldiery, calm and collected as ever, with a trace of quaint humour, turning their peculiar interrogative into an admission of His Divinity.

Nor is there about Christ anything of the character of a man who is labouring under a delusion. He plays His part too well and too logically to be merely a man with a fixed idea; we could not conceive a true God man acting the part better. There is no aggressiveness, no self-assertion, no tendency to impress the fact needlessly on others. The Apostles, indeed, were at one time thoroughly dissatisfied with Him for not putting the matter of His divine claim once for all beyond doubt: “Lord, how is it that Thou wilt manifest Thyself to us, and not to the world?”71 they asked. It would be certainly curious that the idea should have lain dormant from the time when He was twelve, when He was about His Father’s business in the Temple, through those eighteen years when He was subject to them in Nazareth, till at last it was brought home to Him at the instigation of His mother at the marriage feast of Cana. Plainly no trace of it had appeared during those eighteen years, for the neighbours of His own country were astonished when they found the Son of Joseph, Whose father and mother they knew, grown to the dimensions of a prophet and a her0.72 Curious, too, that He should constantly appeal to His works to prove His sincerity: “If you do not believe Me, believe My works”:73 and never once did the Apostles suspect Him during the period of their close intercourse with Him: certainly not till that last sad night when in terror they fled from Gethsemani; and even then their flight was the result rather of shock than of want of faith in Him. Peter followed Him to Pilate’s hall, and fled only when his own life was threatened. John recovered so quickly that he was present the next day on the hill of Calvary trying to sustain the bereaved mother. Even Judas, at the hour of His betrayal, believed that He would be able to escape from the hands of His enemies, and merely hoped in his avarice to secure a few shillings unknown to the Master; he was so surprised at the ultimate result, that he went and hanged himself in despair.

67. Ex. iii. 14. 68. John xiv. 6 seq. 69. Matt. v. 38–44. 70. Luke xxii. 67. seq. 71. John xiv., 22. 72. Mark vi., 3. 73. John x., 38.

THE INFLUENCE OF CHRIST’S TEACHING ON THE WORLD

We may judge the value of Christ’s teaching and personality by its effect upon mankind. Indeed, in this way perhaps does its sublimity come home to us more than in any other. Be He God or be He man, His example and teaching has revolutionised the outlook of the human race.

“We may readily admit,” says Kant-and Kant, as you know, thought out matters for himself-” we may readily admit that, had not the Gospels first taught the general moral principles in their full purity, our intellect would not even now understand them so perfectly.” Not Plato, not Aristotle, not Socrates, but Christ it was who taught man the dignity of man and the dignity of woman. Not Plato, nor Aristotle, nor Socrates, nor Kant, nor Hegel, nor the rest have been able to attract to themselves and their teachings a host of admirers who are prepared to follow them to the death. But it is otherwise with Christ. The same spirit of enthusiasm for His personality that made Peter and Paul roam the earth to die at last by the executioner’s hand at Rome; that made the youthful Agnes flout the tempter and bow her neck before the sword; that made the lovely Cecilia face the scorching flames of the callidarium, and then the headman’s axe; that made Sebastian stand and look at every nerve of his body pierced with the quivering arrows which would send him to his beloved Master; that made Lawrence, on his roasting gridiron, banter with his executioners; and that drenched the sands of the Coliseum in a sea of blood; that spirit which made proud Rome tremble before a power unseen; that in after ages made Ignatius and Assisi revel in beggary, and sent a Xavier forth to die in solitude in Sancian in sight of his beloved China, yearning to bring the knowledge of the Master to the countless millions there- that spirit lives today to send our men as missionaries across the world, and induce our women to go forth to pick the little mites of beggars’ children off the streets, and tramp the world to beg the bread to rear them. No. Your philosophers could never do it.

Nihil Obstat:

MICHAEL CRONIN. Censor Theol. Deput.

Imprimi Potest:

@ EDUARDUS,

Archiep. Dublinen., Hiberniae Primas. Dublini, die 28° Augusti, Anno 1925.

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The Christian Doctrine of Work

BY V. REV. JOHN CANON MCCARTHY, D.C.L., D.D

INDEX

IN the world of today attempts are being made, consciously and unconsciously, to departmentalize human life, to cordon it off into separate areas, and to prevent or disclaim communication between these areas. In particular, it is frequently suggested today that the religious life of man is a sphere apart, that it is confined to times of prayer, to Churches and to Sundays, that it is a sort of trimming on the general fabric of human living. This is not the true or Christian concept of life which considers the total man with all his aspirations and hopes, in all his activities external and internal, in all his relations and combinations within the social structures. Christianity is not a doctrinaire thing. Nor is it a mere partial or part-time philosophy of living. It is a practical way of life impinging upon and directing every area of human activity, individual and collective. A basic tenet of Christianity is that man’s ultimate destiny is the face to face vision of God in heaven, and that his earthly life, with all its diversities of function, with all its strains and stresses, is a period of preparation for, and merit of, that vision splendid. We have not here a lasting city. We seek for one that is to come. We seek that city, we reach out to it, we merit it, by knowing, loving and serving God here below.

This intelligent loving service is not restricted to any sphere of activity, to any particular time or to any special place. It must enter into the daily ways of life, into the recesses of the heart, into our homes, into the fields, the highways and the market place, into the shops, the offices and the councils. This, in brief, is the comprehensive vision and design of life and of its purposes which Christianity presents to us: there is no area of human living to which its doctrines and ideals do not apply.

In view of this all pervading ambit of Christianity there must obviously be a specifically Christian attitude to, a Christian philosophy of, work—and my task this evening is to set it out in the presence of this distinguished audience. May I say that our theme “The Christian Doctrine of Work” is of great importance inasmuch as it has an impact on, and bears a message for all. And yet very many are unaware of its implications and many too are disinclined to relate their daily occupations and activities to religion, to Christianity, to Christ. It is my privilege and high duty to try to pinpoint that relation and, in my endeavour to do so, I shall put before you the Christian concept of work and its place in human life under three main headings: as a service of God, as a service of the individual, and as a service of society—a service ennobled, at every level, and in every form, by the living and vivifying example of Christ. We cannot think of Christianity apart from Christ: it is Christo-centric. It centres round Christ in every sphere and at every level. I should recall that I am not concerned just now with the problem of the relations between workers and employees, with the question of wages or even with work as a merely technical or sentimental problem but as a philosophical and religious problem which reaches down to the roots of man’s nature and to the great fundamental purposes appointed for it by God.

In the divine design the purpose of all creation, rational and irrational, animate and inanimate, was to manifest externally the greatness and glory of the Creator. Irrational creation achieves this purpose by its very existence. Coeli ennarant gloriam Dei sang the Psalmist. (“The heavens proclaim the glory of God.”)

“The signs and wonders of the elements

Utter forth God and fill the earth with praise.”

It is given to man, endowed with a rational soul, consciously and freely to serve God and to show forth His wondrous glory. In man, the peakpoint of God’s creative activities was reached. “You have made him a little less than the angels, You have crowned him with glory and honour and have set him over all the works of Your hands. You have subjected all things under his feet, all sheep and oxen, the beasts also of the fields, the birds of the air and the fishes of the sea” (Ps. 8). Man’s service of the Creator was primarily to be by way of labour. He was created and directed to work upon the natural

(* This booklet is the text of a lecture given to the 1954 Congress of the . . . of Ireland.) resources of the earth placed at his disposal, to cultivate and tend them, to subdue, develop, and fashion them. “Through regard for man’s dignity and his unique position, God left some things unfinished that man might have the privilege of completing them. Even in the humblest and most menial task we can feel that we are playing our part in developing and perfecting God’s work and in fulfilling His designs” (Cardinal D”Alton, Lenten Pastoral, 1953).

Labour is a law of human life. Man is born to labour as is the bird to fly. Even if Adam had remained faithful, labour would still have been a duty of mankind. It is the will of God that nature should be fertile and should provide food and support not only for man but by man’s efforts. It is true that as a result of Adam’s sin the discharge of this duty of labour became more onerous, that thenceforth work would have the additional purpose and effect of bending the will and heart and body of man under the curse and yoke that came upon the world through that sin. In the Book of Genesis we read God’s sentence upon Adam: “Cursed is the earth in your work ; with labour and toil shall you eat thereof all the days of your life. In the sweat of your face shall you eatbread till you return to the earth out of which you were taken “ (Gen 3; 17, 19). But work itself is natural to man and is not a punishment for sin—but only the blood and sweat and toil that accompany it since the Fall.

First of all then, work, in its various forms, must be looked upon as the general vocation of all men, as the fundamental human service of God which flows, as of obligation, from creation, as man’s primal way of co-operating in the creative activity of God. This dignity of work is further and incalculably enriched by the example of the life of Christ. In His own person Christ is the living dynamic exemplar of perfect service of God. He came down on earth to do a great sublime work: to redeem mankind and to reveal more clearly the ways of God with man and the way of man to God. St. Leo the Great explained the divine economy which culminated in the Incarnation in these words: “God, whom we would follow, cannot be seen. Man, who could be seen, we could not follow. Hence in order that God might be seen by man and be followed by man, God became man.” (Sermon on the Nativity). At the end of His earthly sojourn Christ could say to His heavenly Father, “I have finished the work which You gave me to do” (John, 17; 4). As a preparation for the final achievement of His sublime purpose Christ lived the greater part of His earthly life in the humble ways of the craftsman’s shop at Nazareth, as the carpenter, the Son of Mary, and thus He sanctified and ennobled and set the seal of dignity upon the lowly task of manual labour. All this He did that He might leave us an example, that He might light for us the true way of service of God and men in the ordinary daily tasks of life. For He is the way, the truth, the life and the light.

Human labour which is man’s fundamental service of the Creator and which, as such, has been so enriched by the example of Christ is also the means appointed by God whereby we must serve our own needs. In his great Encyclical Rerum Novarum Pope Leo XIII wrote: “To labour is to exert oneself for the sake of procuring what is necessary for the various purposes of life, and chief of all for selfpreservation.” Pope Leo goes on to point out that human labour has two essential characteristics: it is personal; it is necessary.

It is persona1. Man, the worker, is the whole man, the whole human person. He is not a mere “hand” or cog in the mechanism of production but a being, composed of a body and a spiritual soul, with purposes, hungers and aspirations which transcend the material sphere, which reach out to the things of the spirit, to God. Man is made for God and he can never rest until he rests in God. Man’s capacity for work is bound up with his personality. In work he finds the fulfilment of himself, a means of self-expression, of personal development, of body, of mind, of soul, of powers that otherwise would lie fallow, a sense of achievement, of self-reliance and sturdy independence, a sense of value. Work endows human life with a meaning and a nobility and a joy linking it up, as has been noted, with the creative activity of God. The tragedy today is that many men have lost contact with God in their work. Hence they seek to escape work as far as possible, to neglect it. Yet this work can, and must, be the means of bringing men to the feet of God and to the eternal destiny of heaven, to the final fulfilment of their personality and purpose—for men are not, and cannot be, saved in isolation from their way of life, but by a Christlike fidelity to the duties of their state, by the faithful discharge of the work, whatever it may be, that they have been given to do. Here again we have the vivifying example of Christ who, in the simple ways and in the humble tasks of life in Nazareth, “advanced in wisdom and age and grace with God and men” (St. Luke 2; 5).

Human labour is necessary. Without the fruits of labour man cannot survive, and self-preservation is a first law and instinct of nature. Man is bound to take the ordinary means of conserving his life and the lives of those immediately dependent upon him. These means will be won by human labour. There is no place for the human parasite. In his second letter to the Thessalonians St. Paul wrote: “Neither did we eat any man’s bread for nothing, but in labour and toil we worked night and day, lest we should be chargeable to any of you . . . if any man will not work neither let him eat” (II Thess. 3; 8, 10). The provision of his daily needs by personal effort, in accordance with his capacity and opportunities, is then, a bounden duty for man. And when we speak here of daily needs we are thinking not merely of material things but also of the things of the spirit, of the things that are necessary for a fully human life, for we know that man does not live on bread alone. Once again let me recall the example of Christ and the life of Nazareth and the contribution of His daily toil in the work-shop and in the home.

Work is also intended by God to be the means whereby the individual contributes to the welfare of the community and society to which he belongs. And here we naturally think, first of all, of the family—the fundamental unit of social organization. It is surely obvious that the head of the family is bound by every law to use all reasonable efforts to provide for the support and welfare of the other members dependent upon him. But it should be added that they too are expected to help, in their own way, as Christ did in the household of Nazareth. Pope Pius XI wrote: “It is right indeed that the rest of the family contribute according to their powers towards the common maintenance as in the rural home or in the families of many artisans and small shopkeepers.” (Quadragesimo Anno). We must also think of the larger communities and societies of which man is a member. It has been said earlier that man the worker is the whole man, the whole human person. And it is necessary to remember that the human person, despite the inviolable individual rights and dignities which are vested in him, does not and cannot live as an isolated unit.

Man is a social animal. He has from God, the author of his nature, the desire, the capacity and the need for society, for uniting and combining with other men in order to obtain common purposes. Man has to live and work out his salvation as a member of the community and society to which he belongs. Additionally, then, to his rights, and duties as an individual, he has rights and duties as a member of society. He is bound to contribute to the welfare of society. This is fundamental social teaching, but it is frequently unrecognized or ignored in the selfish processes of modern life. In fact much of the social disorder and unrest stems from a failure to recognize and honour the twofold aspect, the social and individual aspects, of human life, of human institutions and of human effort. In our sociological teaching we emphasize the social necessity and value of human labour. But, of course, we must not over-exaggerate these aspects. To do so would be to fall into the totalitarian error and to ignore or depreciate the individual personal values of work. In all this context the true teaching strikes a middle way between extreme or selfish individualism and a juggernaut collectivism. The individual and social values of human labour are complementary not contradictory or conflicting.

By his labour a man can not merely develop his own personality and make provision for his needs, but he can also make a contribution to the total welfare—to the welfare of society and mankind. This he is bound to do. He is meshed into the social structure. He is under obligation to play his part, to be a useful member within that structure. Society needs men who are conscious of their social duties and are prepared to honour them. It needs workers, not drones. It needs, for its survival, the honest work, the loyal service of good citizens—of men and women who are willing and determined to contribute to, as well as to share in, the common welfare.

In the light of the doctrine of the Mystical Body of Christ, this social aspect of work is vested with a higher dignity and is safeguarded by a greater sanction. The doctrine of the Mystical Body implies the brotherhood of men under the Fatherhood of God. It means that there is between the individual members of the Church and Christ and between the members themselves, an intimate and vital union and solidarity wrought by the Holy Ghost ; that Christ and His members form one single body with a common source of life, common interests and a common purpose. There is plurality and diversity of members in the Mystical Body. Each member has a part to play, a contribution to make, to the welfare of the whole Body. “As in one body we have many members but all the members have not the same office; so we, being many are one body in Christ and every one members one of another,” wrote St. Paul to the Romans (12; 4, 5).

This outline of the doctrine of the Mystical Body eloquently emphasizes the social necessity and value of work—which is presented as a means whereby men can co-operate with Christ and with one another in the furtherance of the purposes of the Incarnation and Redemption. The various members of the Mystical Body are meant to work together, to help one another and all mankind towards the attainment of the common supernatural destiny of mankind. According to this Christian teaching we are our brothers” keepers, our brothers” helpers. We are bound to bear one another’s burdens. Unless we do this, St. Paul warns us, we do not fulfil the law of Christ. We are bound by the great commandment of love love of God and love of the neighbour. We can best and most effectively fulfil this great commandment by a true appreciation of the necessity, potentiality and value, in the social order, of the work that is ours to do and by directing that work not merely to our individual benefit but to the welfare of our fellow-men and especially to the help and succour of those in temporal or in spiritual need. It is obvious, then, that the doctrine of the Mystical Body leaves no place in any true philosophy of life or work for selfish individualism. The doctrine demands that all in the community or society of the faithful shall, in the common interest, pull their weight and competently discharge their allotted task—whatever it may be. And this is demanded not merely on the grounds of the natural solidarity of the social organizations and societies but in virtue of the supernatural solidarity of the members of the Mystical Body of Christ.

I have put before you what I conceive to be the Christian philosophy of work as a service of God, as a service of the individual, as a service of society. It is hardly necessary to say that these aspects cannot be kept completely distinct or isolated. They are rather facets of the full picture of the activities of man—of total man, the citizen of time and of eternity. May I now refer to some of the practical conclusions which should emerge from a consideration of this Christian teaching on work. Reference has already been made in passing, to the value of human labour as a form of co-operation in the divine activities of Creation and Redemption, as a means of personal development and the achievement of the final purpose of life, as a contribution to the welfare of society. These values, too, are knit together. All along I have been speaking of work in general. I cannot particularize. Nor is it necessary. Work can take almost an infinite variety of forms. The worker’s lines will be laid in a whole host of different circumstances. But honest work, of every type and in every circumstance, if properly motivated and directed, can achieve the purposes and values I have mentioned. In the pagan philosophies manual occupations and work for wages were regarded as things to be ashamed of—but according to Christian teaching, as Pope Leo XIII emphasizes, they are honourable and creditable ways of life. Within the unity of the Mystical Body -as in the physical body—there are many members all with different functions, some of less importance than others but all making a contribution, a necessary contribution, to the welfare of the whole body.

It is perhaps difficult for those of us who are engaged in the humdrum ways of apparently lowly and menial occupations to realize that in the faithful discharge of our daily tasks we are fulfilling a divine vocation and purpose. Yet this is irrefutably true. We have the proof in many ways. We have it particularly in the example of Christ the carpenter, of Mary the housewife, of Peter the fisherman, of Paul the tentmaker and of the countless other Saints whose lives were spent and sanctified in the discharge of humble and so-called insignificant tasks.

It is supremely important that workers of every class and condition should have a clear vision of life, that they be able to see, in their occupations a divine vocation and that they have a correct attitude towards, and a right motive in, their work. The consequences of all this will be of incalculable worth, for time and for eternity. If workers keep in contact with God in their various occupations, if their daily tasks are related and orientated to God, the dull and drab monotony will be transmuted into a joy of service. The tasks, however lowly and dreary, will be invested with a new interest and dignity. This is a result of great psychological importance. The blood and sweat and toil, associated,in consequence of Adam’s sin, with so much of human labour can be linked up with the great offering of Christ and will thus assume a sacrificial value. All these considerations will immeasurably help and inspire workers to take a legitimate pride in work well done, to aim at perfecting their methods, technique and products, to render an honest return to their employers—not because of any merely material or earthly sanction but because they want to present to God the best service of which they are capable.

In these days of mechanism or machinism the human and personal aspects of labour may easily be submerged and forgotten. And the tragedy is that this is often so. With the onset of the industrial era and the factory system, with the herding together of vast groups of workers, automatically operating machines in the mass production of commodities, the individual worker came, in many places, to be regarded as a mere “hand,” a mere cog in the total equipment and organization. The factories and furnaces were like monuments casting their long shadows over society, telling of man’s enslavement and of the sullen rhythm of human lives. That this happened was, to a large extent the fault of the controllers of the industrial system. I cannot speak of that here save torecall the indictment of Pope Leo that “it is shameful and inhuman to treat men like chattels to make money by or to look upon them as so much muscle or physical strength.” The workers themselves are not without blame in allowing the dehumanization and depersonalization of their labour. No outside control, no system can dictate their attitude of mind and heart. The workers can, in spite of mechanization, repetition and monotony, direct their activities to the higher levels, towards the development of their personality, towards the service of God and man.

It is particularly necessary in this age of easy material socialisms and state paternalisms that workers should understand the importance of attaining and maintaining, by their own efforts, a competence and sturdy independence. This, indeed, is the price of their ultimate freedom. There is nothing more stultifying and demoralizing, both in the social and individual sphere, than that citizens should voluntarily come to depend for the necessities of life on State or public subvention. God has given man energies and powers of work which he must use and provide for his needs. He is less than a man, he is entirely false to his divinely given birthright, who, though he can by reasonable effort make this provision, fails to do so and is content to be a burden on the public purse. This way lies an open road to the servile state in its most virulent form, the road to complete enslavement, for,—make no mistake about it,—the measure of State support will soon become the measure of State control. The primary function of the State, in this context, is to provide the conditions and opportunities in which citizens can by their own initiative and effort, by working according to their capacities attain a reasonable competence and measure of prosperity. It is no function of the State to supplant or render unnecessary individual effort. It is no function of the State to maintain those who are able but unwilling to seek and to use the available opportunities of working to support themselves. Indeed, if the State were to exercise these functions it would be guilty of a grave social crime. To do so would involve unjust expenditure of public moneys, would be destructive of the moral fibre of the people, would exploit the hardworking honest citizen and would set a premium on idleness, laziness and improvidence.

Before I conclude I must point out that Christian teaching which emphasizes so much the necessity and values of work, is far from excluding leisure from life. There is, there must be, a place and time for leisure, not, however, as taking the place of work, nor as implying emancipation from the basic duty of work, but as complementary to work, as completing and giving dimension and vision to human life. “We work in order that we may have leisure,” wrote Aristotle. There is, indeed, a twofold necessity for leisure. Firstly, it is necessary in order that the worker may maintain or regain his physical strength and may be able to function efficiently in his particular task. Secondly, and even more importantly, leisure is necessary for the rational and spiritual welfare of the worker, in order that he may live his life more fully as a human person. Here again we return to the concept of the worker as the total man, the complete human personality. Man is not a mere machine. His activities as a worker, no matter what his work may be, must be of a higher order than the merely mechanical.

It is a cruel paradox that modern life, with its vast apparatus of mechanization which should provide more abundant opportunities for true leisure and fuller human development, should rather have tended to dehumanize and depersonalize man’s labour. If the worker is to really live a human life he must rise above and reach out beyond the merely material and the secular. He does not live by bread alone, on rations or on secular programmes. He needs the things of the spirit. He really lives by religion and faith and hope and love. He should be able to see life as a whole, to look beyond the narrow confines of his limited tasks, to have the wider and the clearer vision. For all this, leisure is necessary. In brief, leisure is necessary in order that the worker continue to be a man in the true and full sense of the word. Pope Leo XIII had this in mind when he wrote: “As a general principle it may be laid down that the workman ought to have leisure and rest proportionate to the wear and tear of his strength; for waste of strength must be repaired by cessation from hard work. In all agreements between employers and employees there is always the condition expressed or understood that there should be allowed proper rest for soul and body. To agree in any other sense would be against what is right and just; for it can never be just or right to require on one side or to promise on the other, the giving up of these duties which a man owes to God and to himself” (Rerum Novarum).

The Holy Father in an address to a labour group from Turin on 31st October, 1948, sums up the Christian attitude to the worker and to work in the following words: “Neither work alone, nor its most efficient organization and most potent tools suffice to mould and guarantee the dignity of the labourer—but rather religion and all that religion ennobles and makes holy. Man is the image of the Triune God and is therefore, himself a person, brother of the Man-God, Jesus Christ and with Him and through Him heir to life eternal: that is where his true dignity lies. . . . If the Church insists always, in her social doctrine, on the respect due to the inherent dignity of man, if she asks a just salary for the workman in his labourcontract, if she demands that his material and spiritual needs be met by effective assistance, what prompts this teaching if not the fact that the labourer is a human person, that his productive capacity may not be regarded and treated as so much merchandise, that his labour represents always a personal service. . . . Only this religious ideal of man can lead to a unified conception of the standard of living he should maintain. Where God is not the beginning and end, where the order that reigns in His creation is not a guide and measure of the freedom and activity of everyone, unity of men cannot be achieved.”

Let me return to my starting point. Christianity is a complete philosophy of life. It gives a meaning and a value to human life and its activities at every level and in every sphere, in the highways and in the byways. Christianity means following Christ, imitating Him, working for Him. With Christ the tremendous jigsaw puzzle of human life, with all its inequalities, apparent shapelessness and jaggedness, finds its pattern, its meaning, and falls into place. Without Christ and His teaching what have we but a welter of contradictions and confusions, unintelligible and uncontrollable tensions, the philosophies of frustration, disillusionment and despair. The honest worker in every sphere, but especially in the humble occupations, is very dear to the heart of Christ. He is the God-Man. He knows. He understands. He has lived and walked in the lowly ways of this earth. If the day-to-day tasks are linked with His life, if they are done for Him, they will surely win compensations and rewards which are durable from the daily dust of earth. And may I say in conclusion that a life of honest work, however lowly, if dedicated to Christ, is the best insurance against disillusion, doubt and fear in the evening of life.

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The Christian Home, Part 1

A GUIDE TO HAPPINESS IN THE HOME

BY CELESTINE STRUB, O.F.M

INDEX

If the social reform that is being demanded on all sides is to have any hope of success, it must begin with the reform of the family.

VICTOR CATHREIN, S.J

INTRODUCTION

THE world today is full of reformers. Society, we are told, is sick with many ills, and a radical remedy is imperative if the utter breakdown of Christian civilization is to be averted. Yet, while the urgent need of reform is quite generally conceded, there is a wide divergence of opinions as to the proper means of bringing it about. As Catholics, possessed of the divinely revealed truths that should regulate all human action, we know that many of the remedies proposed for the cure of social ills are inadequate, because they do not reach the root of the evil; and that many a well-meant reform movement is foredoomed to failure, because it is not based on the only true and solid foundation of all social reform; namely, the principle that there can be no real, permanent social justice and morality without private justice and morality; and that there can be no enduring private justice or morality without religion.

A TRUISM

So much is agreed upon among Catholics: religion and morality must form the basis of all true reform; and it is a truism to say that if all the individuals that make up society were morally good and religious, the ills that afflict society would disappear. It is furthermore agreed among Catholics that the Catholic Church offers the individual all that is necessary for leading a good life. Why then do so many of her children fail? They have the true Faith; they have the Commandments, which tell them what they must do and what they must avoid; and they have the means of grace, prayer and the Sacraments, to help them to avoid sin and practice virtue. Why, then, are they not all morally good and religious?

THE SIN OF ADAM

The fundamental reason is simply that they do not choose to be so. Sin is apparently so pleasant, at least for the moment, and the constant practice of virtue is so hard, that men often choose the former in preference to the latter. Even in Paradise, where all circumstances were so favorable, Adam and Eve abused their free will by disobeying God. But in consequence of that first sin of Adam, there exists in all his descendants a strong inclination to evil, which makes the practice of virtue still more difficult. And added to all this is the example of the wicked world in which we live.

THE ENEMY WITHOUT

It is this latter, the bad example of the world around us, which forms the great obstacle to social reform even among Catholics. If man were merely an individual living by himself, he would have only the enemy within to fight against; but being a social being, destined by God to live in society with others, he has also an enemy outside himself-the evil example of many of those with whom he lives. How to overcome this evil example is the great problem of social reform. It is easy enough to say that the bad example must be offset by good example; but how and where is the good example to be had?

CATHOLIC SOCIETIES

Many there are who say that since it is mainly social attractions that lead Catholics into dangerous company and dangerous places of amusement, we must have our own societies, our own social agencies, club rooms and recreation centers, so that our people can satisfy their craving for company and amusement in a harmless manner. While admitting that our people should be provided with ample opportunity for healthful and innocent recreation; while admitting, too, the importance and desirability of Catholic societies, both secular and religious, and attesting that, when properly conducted under proper auspices, such societies can do an immense amount of good, I am nevertheless of the opinion that it is not by means of these societies that social evils will be greatly reduced. Let us have these societies by all means; but when we have established them and made them flourish, let us not imagine that our task is done. In all such societies something is wanting,—namely, the intimate daily association of the members in all the important affairs of life.

THE BEST CATHOLIC SOCIETY

Happily, however, there is a society that has this all-important requisite; a natural society in which the great majority of men spend their lives; a society that is capable of exerting a lifelong influence on its members. That society, dear reader, is the family. In the family we have all the essential things that man requires as a social being for his physical, moral and intellectual well-being and advancement. And since the family rather than the individual, is the unit of society, to reform society one must begin with the family. Restore religion to its rightful place in the home; let religion direct, control and permeate the family life, and not only will the individual have the safeguard he needs against the evils of society, but society itself will be transformed. This, then, religion in the home, is to my mind, the best of all remedies for the reform of society; and the purpose of this little book is to explain the remedy and to induce all Christian families that can be reached to adopt it.

“For the love of our Savior, Jesus Christ, we implore pastors of souls, by every means in their power, by instructions and catechisms, by word of mouth and by written articles widely distributed, to warn Christian parents of their grave obligations. And this should be done not in a merely theoretical and general way, but with practical and special application to the various responsibilities of parents touching the religious, moral, and civil training of their children, and with indication of the methods best adapted to make their training effective, supposing always the influence of their own exemplary lives.”

—Pius XI, “Christian Education of Youth”

CHAPTER I: NECESSITY OF RELIGION IN THE HOME

I. PRIMARY END OF THE FAMILY

IN accordance with the words spoken by God to our first parents, “Increase and multiply and fill the earth,” the primary purpose of the family is the propagation of the human race. Now without religion, this purpose will be only imperfectly attained. All history witnesses to the fact that there can be no enduring morality without religion, and the history of the family is no exception to the rule. The suffering and labor, the difficulty and disappointment, the grief and vexation incident to the bearing and rearing of children demand so much patience, love, and self-sacrifice, that no one not imbued with a religious sense of duty and buoyed up by the hope of an eternal reward, will be willing to endure them. Hence where these religious motives are wanting, the primary end of the family will be either wholly or partly neglected, and matrimony degraded to the low level of a selfish partnership or a sinful pastime.

PERVERTING MARRIAGE

We need not have recourse to pagan lands, where infants are deliberately exposed to die, for proof that such is the inevitable result of the absence of religion in the family. The absence or scarcity of children in many families of our own land is sad and sufficient evidence. Nay, even in Christian families, where religion no longer exerts the sway it should, are found those immoral practices that pervert the sublime aim of the family. One might, and in charity one would be bound to, ascribe the absence or scarcity of children in such families to other causes, if wives and mothers did not openly advocate artificial restriction of families on the theory that it is better to have one or two children and bring them up well than to have a larger number and be unable to take proper care of them. That theory in itself, of course, is unassailable so long as no law of God is violated by having only one or two children, and so long as the expression “proper care” is rightly understood. But just the way this theory is understood and put into practice by most of its advocates shows into what errors man falls when he is not restrained by the salutary curb of religion.

EDUCATING FOR HEAVEN

What is meant by bringing up a child well? From the standpoint of religion, as far as essentials are concerned, it means to bring up a child in such a manner that it will be enabled to attain the end for which God created it-eternal happiness in Heaven. Such an education even the poorest parents will be able to provide for their children, no matter how many they have; and their own happiness in Heaven will be increased by every child that they have added to the number of the elect. There is always a possibility of a child going wrong despite the best parental care; but the probability of its going wrong from neglect because of the large number of children is far less than the probability that it will be spoiled if it is one of a limited few. The very action of the parents in thwarting nature by limiting their offspring will militate against the proper religious training of their children; for it is not likely that parents who themselves disobey the law of God in so grave a matter will be at great pains to rear God-fearing sons and daughters.

“PROPER CARE” RELATIVE

But even from a material point of view, the assumption is false that parents cannot take proper care of many children. “Proper care” is to be understood relatively, not absolutely; for while parents are bound to provide for the material as well as the spiritual needs of their children, the extent of that provision must vary with the parents” resources. If the best possible training and the best possible care were required for every child, few persons would be allowed to marry at all; since few, if any, could be found whose circumstances could not be improved on.

POPE PIUS XI ON THE REARING OF CHILDREN

“We are deeply touched by the sufferings of those parents who, in extreme want, experience great difficulty in rearing their children. However, they should take care lest the calamitous state of their external affairs should be the occasion for a much more calamitous error. No difficulty can arise that justifies the putting aside of the law of God which forbids all acts intrinsically evil. There is no possible circumstance in which husband and wife cannot, strengthened by the grace of God, fulfill faithfullytheir duties and preserve in wedlock their chastity unspotted.”

—Encyclical on Christian Marriage.

PERIODIC CONTINENCE

If really serious financial straits or imperative considerations of health should discountenance the addition of another child to the family at a given time, truly Christian parents will know how to meet the situation by mutually agreeing to practice continence over a certain period. So much, with a good will and God’s grace, they will always be able to do. But no combination of untoward circumstances can ever justify the misuse of the sacred rights of marriage. (See quotation above.)

I realize most keenly that faithful adherence to the law of God will sometimes require great sacrifices of God-fearing parents. But every state of life, as it confers certain rights and privileges, also demands its peculiar sacrifices; and God will always grant sufficient grace to enable one to make them. If God enables those husbands and wives to keep His holy law who are deprived of the legitimate pleasures of wedlock by the premature death or the life-long illness of their spouses, He will certainly do the same for those whom poverty or other trying conditions place in a similar predicament. With St. Paul, every Christian can say in time of trial: “I can do all things in Him that strengtheneth me.”

AN EXTREME CASE

The following example, which is about as extreme a case as one might imagine, shows how God strengthens and consoles those sorely tried consorts who place their trust in Him. I condense the story narrated by the chief actor himself-an English Catholic journalist named W. Gerald Young-in a letter to the London Universe.

“Some years ago I stood with a woman at the altar where God united us in the bonds of holy Matrimony. She was all that man could wish for, and, with her, life was a succession of sunny days. More than once did God give her that wonderful blessing of radiant motherhood, and we were intensely happy. Today, however, black clouds of sorrow have overwhelmed us, and we are no longer together.

“Once a week I make a pilgrimage into the beautiful hill country of Surrey, where there is an institution known by the name of a mental hospital. Here it is that my dear one spends her days,-long, weary days, because she is mad. Here is my shrine. Frail and pallid, she lies on a bed, dead to the world of intelligence. Her once beautiful face is now disfigured; her old-time smile superseded by a scowl. When I kiss her dear lips, there is no warm response from the woman who loved me so dearly; and yet she still holds the keys of my heart.

“My journey back to London is a weary one; for how can we call it home when the wife and mother is absent? Little voices will ask when Mama is coming back, and Daddy cannot tell them. On my way back, I visit a little church wherein the Blessed Sacrament is always exposed for adoration. In this haven of rest where all is quiet and peaceful, I lift up my weary heart to God and tell Him my troubles, and I come out a happier man, because I have unburdened my soul to my Maker and He has given me new courage to fight this weary battle of life. Some day God may see fit to answer my petition. In the meantime I can only hope and pray.” But whether God grants this brave man’s prayer here on earth or not, oh, how magnificently will He reward his fidelity in eternity!

A SELFISH LIFE

Now if a man can be faithful to the law of God in such trying circumstances, how much easier should it be for those whose happy homes are still unbroken and who need only practice Christian self-restraint? The whole argument against large families only shows the absence of the salutary restraints of religion. At bottom it is not the desire to give their children a more excellent training but the desire to lead a more selfish and comfortable life that clamors for the unnatural limitation of the family. No one is more desirous of having well-trained children than deeply religious parents; but such parents, regarding their office in the light of Faith, are bent mainly on rearing their children for Heaven; and they understand that, even should they be able to provide them but scantily with the goods of this world, by training them for Heaven the main thing is achieved and their principal duty performed. They realize, too, that the success of all their efforts in behalf of their children depends mainly on Heaven’s blessing, and that if they merit that blessing by their upright lives, He who feeds the birds of the air and clothes the lilies of the field will also provide for their children.

CONSOLATIONS OF PARENTHOOD

Happy the parents who still retain this religious outlook on life; whose religion is their guide, their support, and their consolation amid the arduous duties of their state of life! They know that they are the chosen instruments of Divine Providence for peopling the abode of the blessed. They know that in assuming the office of parenthood, they cooperate with God himself in bringing into existence beings destined to praise and enjoy him forever in Heaven. They know that every child they receive is a gift of God; since, do what they will, they can have no child that God does not give them. But above the solace of all this knowledge, is the supernatural aid which the true religion affords them. They have the actual graces of the sacrament of Matrimony, of frequent Communion, and of daily prayer to strengthen them, and the example of their suffering Savior to console them. Yes, with religion in their homes, they can resist the evil example of those godless couples who seek only their own gratification. And though eugenic wise-acres scoff, and even misguided friends smile in derision at their oldfashioned families, they will never thwart Heaven’s designs concerning their families, but look upon every child as a new token of Heaven’s trust and Heaven’s love.

THE PARENTS’ PRIDE

It is remarkable how often God rewards parents of large families by making the children that came last become the chief joy and pride of their life. The Little Flower of Jesus was the last of nine children; St. Ignatius of Loyola, the thirteenth and St. Catherine of Siena, the twenty-fourth or twenty-fifth. Many parents owe the honor of having a son raised to the priesthood to the fact that they had large families. Had my own parents been willing to have five children but no more, they would never have had a priest in the family. But because they were blessed with eight children, they had the happiness of seeing the sixth and seventh celebrate their first Mass on the same day; and though they have gone to their reward, they are no doubt happy to know that two sons of their eighth child are studying for the priesthood.

A few years ago, I received a letter from a young mother of two children, in which she related how certain worldly-wise women try to induce mothers to limit the number of their children. On the occasion of a social call, a lady acquaintance of hers had remarked: “It is not a woman of refinement nowadays that has more than two children.” To which the young mother replied: “In that case I hope to belong to the common herd, as Iintend to take all that the good Lord wants to give me.” In replying to her letter, I commended her for her truly Catholic stand, and then added: “I thank God that my own good mother did not have such a false idea of refinement; for if she had, I should have had no chance at all, as I was her seventh child.” And the very first time I related this incident, namely, to a group of Franciscan Fathers at St. Elizabeth’s Friary, Denver, Colo., each one of the five priests present declared that he, too, was his mother’s seventh child!

II. FINAL AIM OF MARRIAGE

Necessary as religion is in the home for the attainment of the primary aim of marriage and the family-the propagation of the human race, it is equally necessary for the attainment of the family’s final aim-the education of children for Heaven. Above all else it is the soul of the child for which parents will have to render a strict account on the day of judgment; and it is the religious and moral training of their children, therefore, that constitutes their paramount duty to their offspring. When Catholic parents stand before their Divine Judge, they will not be asked whether they did their utmost to enable their children to prosper in this world-to wear the laurels of its honors, to reap the fruits of its riches, and to quaff the wine of its sensual pleasures. No; the question they will have to answer is, whether they did their duty in enabling their children not only to save their immortal souls, but also to reach that degree of holiness to which God destined them and to embrace that state of life in which God wished them to serve Him.

BEFORE THE DAWN OF REASON

To acquit themselves of this sacred duty, parents must needs foster religion in their home. If religion is to be planted deep in the heart of the child,—so deep that it will defy all later attempts of the world, the flesh and the devil, to root it out, it will not do to defer the child’s religious education until it starts to school. Its religious education must be begun not only at the first dawn of reason, but long before the dawn of reason-in very infancy, so that a truly religious mind will be developed and become a veritable second nature. It follows necessarily, then, that religion must exert the dominant influence in the place where the child’s first years are spent; namely, in the home. Religion should surround the child as snugly as its infant clothing. The child should imbibe religion at its mother’s breast. It should be rocked to sleep to the tune of religion, and its first lisping accents should have a religious character.

Only if religion rules the home, will the child get the impression right at the start that religion is the most important thing in life. If there is little or no religion in the home, the child will naturally be led to suppose that wealth and position, secular knowledge and training, or even worldly comforts and pleasures are the things most worth while; and that religion, instead of being a vital force in life, is merely a polite concession that man feels he must occasionally make to God, his Creator; and hence that it is, like a badge or his best clothes, to be displayed only in church and on special occasions.

RELIGION A SPIRITUAL FOOD

Few parents who send their children to a Catholic school will deny the necessity of religion in the school. They know that even if a school should be entirely non-sectarian and in no way opposed to religion, the mere absence of religion would itself be a great evil; for, if education means the training and instructing of a child for the performance of the duties of life, it must needs embrace religious training and instruction, since the practice of religion is the first and foremost of life’s duties. Now what is true of the absence of religion in the school, is equally true of its absence in the home. The supernatural graces which the child received in Baptism, sanctifying grace and the infused virtues of Faith, Hope, and Charity, are awaiting nourishment and warmth in order to blossom forth and yield fruit; and to deny the child the religious food and atmosphere it craves is to stunt if not to thwart its spiritual growth. To say that no harm is done the child so long as it is taught nothing positively bad or irreligious, is just as false as to say that it will not harm a child to deprive it of food so long as you do not give it poison.

Yet great as is the need of religion in the home for the proper molding of the infant mind and heart, how frequently is the hungry little soul of the child practically starved until it begins to attend a Catholic school! How often, too, is it not taught things that are positively bad either by word or by example! How often are not things said or done or permitted in the presence of children and justified or excused with the remark that “they don’t know what it means,” or “it won’t do them any harm”! It may do them incalculable harm. It is just this seed sown in the innocent child’s memory and imagination, from which later on evil will spring; and then the astonished parents wonder where the child learnt it. Small children are the most impressionable beings in the world, and the impressions which they receive are the ones that sink deepest and that will leave their traces all through life.

SHIFTING THE BURDEN

One reason why the child’s religious education is often neglected at home, is the tendency on the part of parents to disemburden themselves of the duty of educating their children by committing that task entirely to others. The Catholic parochial school is unquestionably a splendid as well as a necessary institution; but it must be remembered that the education of children is in the first place the duty of the parents, and that the purpose of the school is only to co-operate with the parents, and in particular to take up the work at that point where the parents are no longer able to accomplish it satisfactorily themselves. That point, I am inclined to think, is ordinarily not reached before the child completes its sixth year, since there are few parents who are unable, from lack of either time or knowledge, to teach their children all they need to know on entering the first grade. There is, however, a growing custom of anticipating that point by entrusting the child to others when it is only five, or even only three or four years old; and the cause of the custom is the existence of the kindergarten.

THE HOLY FATHER ON THE DECLINE OF FAMILY EDUCATION

“We wish to call your attention in a special manner to the present-day lamentable decline in family education. The offices and professions of a transitory and earthly life, which are certainly of far less importance, are prepared for by long and careful study; whereas for the fundamental duty and obligation of educating their children, many parents have little or no preparation, immersed as they are in temporal cares.

“The declining influence of domestic environment is further weakened by another tendency prevalent almost everywhere to-day, which, under one pretext or another, for economic reasons, or for reasons of industry, trade or politics, causes children to be more and more frequently sent away from home even in their tenderest years.”

—Pius XI in “Christian Education of Youth.”

KINDERGARTEN VS. HOME TRAINING

There are those that favor the kindergarten; and it is easy to understand that, like the day nursery, it is a most welcome institution to mothers who are obliged to work away from home for the support of their families. While the use of the kindergarten in such a case is certainly above criticism, the same cannot be said in regard to its use by those parents who avail themselves of it merely to have the children off their hands. And, even where there is no lack of parental love and care, there is likelihood that parents will send their children to the kindergarten simply because others do so; or from the mistaken notion that they are supposed to do so. Now, without wishing to dogmatize in the matter, I want to tell such parents that, in my opinion, the kindergarten training is not superior to home training; and that nothing is learned in the kindergarten that cannot be learned equally well at home. It is quite true that the school mistress who specializes in her work may be intellectually better equipped than many mothers for the education of very young children; but it is none the less true that the mother is by nature the child’s first and chief educator; that the mother is nature’s own specialist just in the task of educating the child before it reaches the age of reason; and that, as regards religious training, it is every mother’s bounden duty to acquire so much knowledge as will enable her to teach her children that rudimentary religious knowledge that they should have before they complete their sixth year. (See quotation above.)

A WORK OF LOVE

Yet it is not so much duty, young mothers, that I would emphasize, as love, to induce you to make the early education of your children your own personal task. Soon enough, yes all too soon the time will come when your darlings will pass from the sacred sanctuary of your home to spend the greater part of their waking hours elsewhere. Should your mother’s love not be anxious to have them under your watchful eye as long as possible? During those first half dozen years, when the child’s heart can be molded like soft clay, should you not desire to fashion it to the highest ideals with your own loving hands? Should you not wish to be able to say that those essential prayers, which you expect your children to recite daily through life, were first learned and lisped at their mother’s knee? Should you not aim to bind them to their home by the strongest ties of interest as well as of affection? If so, then the surest way is to make the home the fountain at which they first drink the waters of wisdom; to make the home the attractive center of all their earthly hopes and joys and the holy shrine round which will caressingly cling the fondest of all the happy memories of childhood.

HARMONY BETWEEN SCHOOL AND HOME

But even when parents have done all in their power for the religious education of their children before the latter begin to attend school, let them not imagine that their task is accomplished. When they finally commit them to the charge of others, at the proper age, they do not thereby divest themselves of all responsibility, but must co-operate with the teachers by their interest, their discipline, and their moral support. (See Holy Father’s quotation below.) Here again appears the necessity of religion in the home. If the child learns at school that it is in this world to serve God and to save its immortal soul, and that the things of earth are to be used merely as means to that end, that lesson must have an echo in the home. What the school emphasizes as the most important thing in life must likewise be regarded as such in the home. It will not do for the child to find a disagreement between the religious truths it learns at school and the views it hears expressed and defended at home. The irreconcilable opposition between the maxims of Christ and the maxims of this world will come home to the child soon enough; and if the former are to take root in its heart as they should, the seed sown in religious instruction in school must be nurtured by religion in the home.

A PUZZLING CONTRADICTION

It is true, the child will come in touch with irreligion sooner or later outside the circle of the home and school; but that is not likely to affect it so easily, since it has been taught to look upon the world as hostile to its own best interests. It will be quite different if irreligion is met with in the home. A child implicitly trusts its parents. It believes that they have its welfare at heart; and it will be confronted with a puzzling contradiction if its parents by word, deed, or omission countenance or counsel anything that it was taught at school to regard as wrong. Just because of its confidence in its parents, the child is more likely to follow the example of the home than the precept it learned at school. Example is always more powerful than precept; and it is of the highest importance, therefore, that the religious instruction of the school be seconded by the example of sterling Christian conduct in the home. Only when home and school work hand in hand, mutually supporting, complementing, and encouraging each other, may we hope that our children will receive the kind of education that will enable them to bring forth the fruits of a truly Christian life.

PIUS XI ON THE STATUS OF THE SCHOOL

“Since, however, the younger generations must be trained in the arts and sciences for the advantage and prosperity of civil society, and since the family of itself is unequal to this task, it was necessary to create that social institution, the school. But let it be borne in mind that this institution owes its existence to the initiative of the family and of the Church, long before it was undertaken by the State. Hence, considered in its historical origin, the school is by its very nature and institution subsidiary and complementary to the family and the Church. It follows logically and necessarily that it must not be in opposition to, but in positive accord with those other two elements, and form with them a perfect moral union, constituting one sanctuary of education, as it were, with the family and the Church. Otherwise it is doomed to fail of its purpose and to become instead an agent of destruction.”

-Encyclical on “Christian Education of Youth.”

NON-CATHOLIC SCHOOLS FORBIDDEN

The very fact that the school is supposed to continue the education of the home and that both must be pervaded by the same Christian spirit, shows the obligation that Catholic parents are under of placing their children only in a Catholic school. In his encyclical on the Christian Education of Youth, Pope Pius XI emphasizes this duty in unmistakable terms “There is no need,” he writes, “to repeat what Our predecessors have declared on this point, especially Pius IX and Leo XIII. . . . We renew and confirm their declarations, as well as the sacred Canons, in which the frequenting of non-Catholic schools, whether neutral or mixed, those namely which are open to Catholics and non-Catholics alike, is forbidden for Catholic children, and can be at most tolerated, on the approval of the Ordinary alone, under determined circumstances of place and time, and with special precautions.

“Neither can Catholics admit that other type of mixed school . . . in which the students are provided with separate religious instruction, but receive other lessons in common with non-Catholic pupils from non-Catholic teachers. For the mere fact that a school gives some religious instructions (often extremely stinted) does not bring it into accord with the rights of the Church and of the Christian family, or make it a fit place for Catholic students.

RELIGION MUST PERVADE ALL SCHOOLS

“To be that, it is necessary that all the teaching and the whole organization of the school, its teachers, syllabus, and textbooks in every branch be regulated by the Christian spirit, under the direction and maternal supervision of the Church; so that religion may be in very truth the foundation and crown of the youth’s entire training; and this in every grade of school, not only the elementary, but the intermediate and the higher institutions of learning as well. To use the words of Leo XIII:

“It is nece ssary not only that religious instruction be given to the young at certain fixed times, but also that every other subject taught be permeated with Christian piety. If this is wanting, if this sacred atmosphere does not pervade and warm the hearts of masters and scholars alike, little good can be expected from any kind of learning, and considerable harm will often be the consequence.””

EXCEPTIONAL CASES

It is true, indeed, that Catholics who have had the very best religious schooling and come from the finest Catholic families sometimes fail nevertheless to turn out well; but that is certainly not because of, but despite, their religious education. Such cases, too, are relatively rare; and I think that on investigation it would be found that most of them were thrown too suddenly upon the world, or passed at too early an age beyond the sustaining and restraining influence of Christian surroundings. The great majority of men stand in need of the support and encouragement of a good example throughout their entire life; and as they cannot find this encouragement amid the hustle and bustle of the world, they must find it in their homes. It is not enough, then, that the child have the advantage of an early religious home training. The steadying influence of religion in the home must continue all through life.

THE GROWN-UP CHILDREN

This phase of our subject, the necessity of religion in the home also for the children that have graduated from school and for the grown-up members of the family, ought perhaps to be emphasized most, because it is so commonly disregarded. It is with religion as with all other things that influence our lives: it must be fostered if its influence is to last; and once the child is beyond the school age, there is great danger that it will gradually limit its religious practice to the hour in church on Sundays, if a truly Christian home life does not continue the beneficial religious influence previously exerted by the Catholic school. The home is really the only place, besides the church, that can be made to conform to one’s daily religious needs; and it is here, therefore, that one must provide what cannot be had abroad. If abroad, amid the enforced companionship of unbelieving fellow-workmen, it is not always possible to avoid hearing one’s religion set at naught and ridiculed, in the home one can insist that it be held in honor and esteemed the most vital thing on earth. If abroad the open practice of any act of religion would ordinarily be viewed with silent wonder or unconcealed contempt, in the home the act of folding the hands or kneeling to pray must be regarded as natural as eating and drinking. If abroad one is often powerless to prevent irreligion and immorality from having access to the press, bill-boards, art galleries and places of amusement, one can at least refuse admission to them when they knock on the door of our Christian homes.

Give me truly Christian homes, homes in which Christianity is not merely tolerated but revered and fostered, and homes that are homes and not only sleeping quarters, and I will give you a race of Christian men and women who will cling to their Faith despite the insidious machinations of a corrupt and irreligious world.

III. RELIGION PREVENTS DIVORCE

It remains yet to touch briefly on a third reason why religion is indispensable in the home; the fact, namely, that without religion in the home the very existence of the family is in danger; for religion is the only sure safeguard of the indissolubility of marriage, the only bulwark against the breaking up of the family by divorce.

Where there is no religion, no supernatural motive to sustain and comfort them and no belief in the inviolability of the marriage vow, it is but natural that when difficulties that demand mutual forbearance arise, as they inevitably will, the husband or wife will have recourse to divorce. God Himself knows that it is by no means always an easy matter for husband and wife to bear with each other’s shortcomings; that unaided human nature cannot perseveringly fulfill all the duties of wedded life; and for that very reason He supernaturalized Christian marriage, making it a sacrament that confers all the special graces needed to enable the married pair to perform their duties faithfully until death. It is mainly owing to the denial of the sacramental character of Matrimony, that marriage is entered into so lightly outside the Catholic Church, and that so little is made of the wide-spread evil of severing the marital union.

While we may rejoice that divorce is not prevalent among Catholics, we must nevertheless admit to our shame that divorced Catholics are not altogether unknown, and that not infrequently the strained relations between husband and wife and the breakdown of parental authority fall little short of the evils of actual divorce. It is not enough, therefore, that the religious character and the indissolubility of the matrimonial union be acknowledged. Religion must sanctify not only the beginning but the entire course of wedded and family life.

What a world of difference it would make in our lives, if among the requisites for an ideal home, the first place were assigned to religion! We say, “What is home without a mother?” and it is true that the absence of a good mother makes a gap that cannot be adequately filled. Yet how far, how unspeakably far, short of the ideal mother does she fall who does not foster religion in the home!

RELIGION A GRACIOUS QUEEN

Why then are there so many homes, even Christian homes, where religion is notably lacking? Is it perhaps because religion is regarded as a tyrant ruling with an iron hand? Undoubtedly this view is responsible for the attitude of many who style themselves Christians. But no view could be farther from the truth. A real tyrant in the home, a tyrant whom many serve with slavish care, is the insatiable desire for ease, pleasure, or social standing, which forces families to live beyond their means in order to equal their neighbors in sumptuousness of board and luxury of equipment; while religion, whose sway would be that of a tender mother and gentle queen, is shown scant courtesy or even barred admission.

Welcome religion to your homes, therefore, fathers and mothers, sons and daughters, all ye who would be the possessors of truly happy homes. Welcome religion with open arms and gladsome hearts. Grossly do they err who look upon her as a tyrant. Religion is a queen, a most gracious queen, whose sway is as gentle as it is salutary. Yield yourselves to her loving influence so that the smile of her approval will ever beam upon you. Let her rule your going out and your coming in! Let her occupy the place of honor at your table! Let her sit with you in your study! Let her kindly eye restrain you in time of joy! Let her tender hand wipe away your tears in time of sorrow! Let her minister to you in time of illness and distress! Then, having received your last breath, she will conduct you at the last from the threshold of your earthly home to the eternal home of your Heavenly Father.

WHAT A GREAT ENEMY OF THE CHURCH SAID ABOUT THE FAMILY Before his conversion, a great infidel made the following admission to the eminent apostle of the Sacred Heart, Father Mateo Crawley-Boevey, SS.CC.:-”We have only one object in view- to dechristianize the family. We are willing to let Catholics have their churches and chapels and cathedrals. We are satisfied to have the family. If we gain the family, our victory over the Church is assured.”

CHAPTER II: PRAYER IN THE HOME

IRRELIGIOUS ATMOSPHERE

IN our day, irreligion may be said to pervade the very air we breathe. Just as our lungs inhale the germs of disease, and our bodies are coated with minute particles of dust, whenever we go abroad in a crowded city, so our souls, our memory and imagination, are exposed to an atmosphere tainted with irreligion whenever we go abroad into the world. To counteract the evil effects of a day’s exposure to the smoke and dust of the city, we wash the stains from our bodies when we return home, we restore our lost vitality by partaking of wholesome food; and we fill our lungs with air free from the impurities that vitiate the atmosphere in factories and the busy marts of trade.

We must pursue a like course if we wish to render our souls immune from the contagion of irreligion. We must cleanse our souls from the dust of earthy and irreligious impressions that we acquire from contact with the wicked world. We must move about in a pure atmosphere from which all taint of irreligion is excluded. We must strengthen the Faith within us by nourishing our souls with wholesome mental food. To drop the metaphor, we must offset the irreligion that we daily encounter abroad, by prayer, by a Catholic atmosphere, and by good reading in the home.

I. DAILY PRAYER

The simplest, the easiest, the most ordinary, and still, for the individual, the most important exercise of the virtue of religion is prayer. Hence, if religion is to occupy that place in the home which we have seen it deserves, the members of the family must be faithful to the time-honored custom of daily prayer. No matter how old-fashioned and childish it may seem to some to insist on morning and evening prayer, grace before and after meals, and family prayers at certain seasons, it is these very things that establish religion firmly in the home, bring down Heaven’s blessing, and give the home its true consecration. Show me a family where all the members are regular in saying their daily prayers, and. I will show you a home where religion flourishes and peace and contentment reign. Show me a home where prayer is habitually neglected, and I will show you a family whose religion, if any still exist, is merely a matter of form.

NATURAL PLACE FOR PRAYER

How, indeed, could it be otherwise? We have the duty of saving our immortal souls not only at the moment of death but all through life; and that duty necessarily implies keeping ourselves in the state of sanctifying grace. No one will remain long in the state of grace, if he is careless about his daily prayers; and few will pray daily, if they do not pray at home, because the home is the most convenient as it is the most natural place for one’s regular daily prayer. What could be more natural for a man who believes that God is his Creator and Sovereign Lord his greatest benefactor and best friend; who believes that we are in this world solely to do God’s holy will and thus merit an eternal reward; what could be more natural, I ask, than for such a one to remember and to acknowledge this fact the first thing on awaking in the morning; to turn his first thoughts to God by blessing himself and making the good intention, and then to kneel down to pay his homage to his Creator, to thank Him for His endless favors, to renew his fealty to Him, and to implore His blessing? And what more natural as well as more wise and fitting than for him to do the like in the evening before he commits himself to the night’s sleep from which he never knows whether he will awaken?

It is not necessary to devote a great deal of time to one’s morning and evening prayer. For the ordinary layman five minutes will usually suffice; and, if necessary, one can say a really devout morning or evening prayer, embracing all the essentials, in two or three minutes. The important thing is to be regular about it; to have a regular formula or number of prayers to say; to say them at a regular time, and in a certain regular manner. If you like to use a book, you will do well to do so. The use of a book helps to fix the habit of praying. But such is in nowise necessary. Only have some definite prayers to say as the minimum and say that minimum well.

HOW MUCH MUST ONE PRAY?

But what should be the minimum for a good morning or evening prayer? That depends on various circumstances-one’s age, one’s leisure, one’s needs, and also on the extent to which one makes use of the other means of grace-the Mass and Holy Communion. It is plain that not all have the time for the same amount of prayer in the morning. Some find it more convenient to say only a short prayer in the morning but a long prayer at night. Others are accustomed to say the greater part of their prayers in church during the day. A certain doctor of my acquaintance has the very praiseworthy habit of praying for about a quarter of an hour in church on his way home every evening. Nor do all need the same amount of prayer. Persons exposed to greater temptations, or subject to evil habits, as well as persons bound to a more perfect life must pray more than persons not thus circumstanced. But all must pray enough to enable them to live habitually in the state of sanctifying grace. So much is certain: if one falls into mortal sin, the reason is to be sought in the insufficiency of one’s prayers or in the infrequency of one’s reception of the sacraments. While it is impossible, therefore, to determine just what prayers each one should say in the morning or in the evening or even each day, it seems to me that our daily prayers should always include the acts of Faith, Hope, Charity, contrition and thanksgiving, the Apostles” Creed, and several Our Fathers and Hail Marys.

PRAY ON YOUR KNEES!

In regard to the manner of praying, it is best to say your morning prayer after you are dressed; your evening prayer before undressing, and both on your knees. This last point is of great importance. In the first place, the act of kneeling is itself equivalent to a prayer, being an act of adoration, and it is unquestionably the most becoming posture in which to address ourselves to our Creator. Then the practice of kneeling to say our prayers has the good effect of reminding us of that duty. If we want to say our prayers only while dressing or undressing or when in bed, the chances are that in many cases they will be said poorly or be altogether forgotten. And lastly, the habit of kneeling at our morning and evening prayers will have a most edifying effect on others in the household. Even though each one prays in the privacy of his room, it will be generally known in the family that one is accustomed to pray on bended knees, and that knowledge will be of inestimable value in mutually encouraging one another never to abandon the practice. When brothers occupy the same room, or sisters share the same apartment, the practice is of still greater importance for their mutual edification. Yet most important of all is that parents who are still able to kneel, do so and thus give a good example to their children.

THE PARENTS’ EXAMPLE

Setting a good example in this matter of prayer is a part of the religious education which parents owe to their children. And what a beneficial influence it will have upon the children all through life, if the parents not only teach them from their tenderest years to pray but also pray with them; and even when they are grown up, let them always be aware of the fact that their parents, too, prostrate themselves morning and evening on their knees in order to pay homage to their God. Nothing will impress more deeply on the child that prayer is not merely a child’s duty but a duty for life; that religion is something not only for the church but for the home as well; that there is nothing about praying or kneeling for anyone to be ashamed of; but rather that it would be a cause of shame for any Christian, be he old or young, to be obliged to admit that he did not daily lift his hands and his heart to God in prayer.

How well do I remember the splendid example that my own father gave in this respect. Every evening without fail he would kneel, entirely free of any support, before a Crucifix in the living room, and with devoutly folded hands, and body as upright as a mountain pine perform his evening devotions.

II. GRACE AT MEALS

But it is not enough that each and every member of the family have the habit of saying his morning and evening prayers. Where religion flourishes in the home as it should, if the family is truly to deserve the name Christian, there must be found also the age-old Christian custom of saying grace before and after meals. This venerable custom is the inevitable consequence of a Christian outlook on life. If we believethat God is the author and sustainer of life, that “every best gift and every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights” (Jas. 1, 17) then surely we should be mindful of our indebtedness to our Heavenly Father at least as often as we partake of the food by which our mortal life is sustained. Our blessed Savior expressly teaches us to pray: “Give us this day our daily bread”; and what time could be more fitting for the fulfillment of that duty than the hour of our daily meals?

A PROFESSION OF FAITH

There is, however, yet another important aspect to the practice of saying grace in the home. To pray in the presence of others is a profession of one’s Faith; and for that reason alone, if for no other, the practice should be fostered. You simply cannot make your religion a strictly interior affair, just as little as you can make it exclusively a church affair. If you sow good seed in a fertile soil and take care that it receives the necessary warmth and moisture, the seed will not long remain hidden but will sprout forth and give unmistakable evidence of the living principle within. It is exactly the same with religion. The man that really has deep religious convictions will also show them exteriorly at the opportune time and place. Only those Christians whose Faith is not deeply rooted or who have been misled by the unchristian fashion of the day will say: “I believe in praying without attracting notice. There is no use making a show every time a person wants to pray.” Indeed not; and it is to be presumed that thousands of Catholics pray frequently, even in company, without others being aware of it. I am willing, too, to pardon them if they offer that excuse for not praying openly in public eating houses, but not when there is a question of meal prayers in the privacy of one’s own home.

But someone might say: “I don’t see the value of such a profession of Faith in the home. Everyone at home knows my religious convictions; so why need I manifest them by blessing myself or saying grace attable?” One might argue with just as much logic: “I don’t see the need of showing the members of my family that I love them. They know that I love them, and that love is an affair of the heart. So why should I give token of my love by my looks, manner, words, or actions?” Just as the person who shows little love for the members of his household really has little love for them; so he, too, who cares not to manifest his religion to them very likely has precious little religion left in his heart. Interior virtues must needs be exercised by exterior acts; otherwise, they will wither away and finally perish altogether.

PRAYER NECESSARY FOR SALVATION

It is quite true that there is no positive law commanding us to pray before and after meals. Neither is there such a law requiring us to say our morning and evening prayers. But nothing is more certain than that we are obliged to pray, and that, for adults, prayer is an indispensable means of salvation. And since a more fitting time for prayer can scarcely be found than the hour of rising, the hour of retiring, and the meal hours, it is much to be feared that those who do not pray at these times do not pray at all, or at least not enough to satisfy the obligation of prayer. It will doubtless be found that usually those that are most conscientious about saying these customary prayers are also the ones that pray most at other times and make the most frequent use of the Mass and the sacraments.

Let me beg the reader, therefore, not to dismiss the question of saying grace as a trifling matter. A drop of rain is also a small matter; yet every rain, the heaviest as well as the lightest, is made up of drops. In particular as a means of making religion flourish in the home, the value of prayer at meals can hardly be overestimated. To say grace before and after every meal means to worship God, to profess your Faith, and to edify your neighbor six times a day, 180 times a month, and more than two thousand times a year. Small as the single prayers may be, and insignificant as may seem their effect, the total sum will amount to a great deal and is sure to bring down a shower of blessings.

III. FAMILY PRAYER

“Where there are two or three gathered together in my name, there am I in the midst of them” (Mt. 18, 20). By these words our blessed Savior clearly ascribes a special power and a special blessing to prayers said jointly with others; and we may be sure that if this is true of any group of persons gathered together in His name, it is doubly true of the Christian family, which is knit together not only by the strongest ties of mutual love but also by the consecration of a sacrament. All the good effects that flow from prayers said by the individual, will accrue in still greater abundance from family prayer. In their pastoral letter to all American Catholics some years ago (1920) our Bishops expressed themselves on this point as follows: “We heartily commend the beautiful practice of family prayer. . . . The presence of Jesus will surely be a source of blessing to the home where parents and children unite to offer up prayer in common. The spirit of piety which this custom develops will sanctify the bonds of family love and ward off the dangers which often bring sorrow and shame. We appeal in this matter with special earnestness to young fathers and mothers, who have it in their power to mould the hearts of their children and train them betimes in the habit of prayer.”

EXAMPLE OF TOBIAS

It is to young parents, too, nay, to newly married couples, that I would appeal not to await the appearance of children, but to begin to pray in common from the very outset of their wedded life. While everything is new and family traditions are only in the making, it will be an easy matter for them to establish the custom of family prayer; whereas early neglect may allow a contrary custom to get so firmly rooted that it will be hard to break. Would that all newly married couples would follow the beautiful example of the younger Tobias and his wife Sara. “We are the children of saints,” he said, “and must not be joined together like heathens that know not God” (Tob. 8, 5). Accordingly they did not wait until the wedding festivities and their honeymoon were over before thinking of praying in common but the very first night after their marriage “prayed earnestly, both together, that health might be given them” and that God would bless their union.

FAMILY WORSHIP A DUTY

To anyone that gives the matter serious thought the neglect of family prayer in a Christian family must seem well-nigh impossible. It is to be supposed, namely, that the head of a Christian family esteems the Faith as his greatest treasure, as worth more to himself and to every member of his household than any amount of earthly goods. It is further to be presumed that, valuing his faith as he does, he will be most solicitous about preserving it so as to insure its blessings for himself and his family. On such a supposition, is it possible that he will relegate all prayer to the privacy of each one’s room and never have the family pray aloud in common? Just as little as he would have each member of the family take his meals alone and never do any work or have any recreation in common. As long as the family circle, family meals, family picnics remain in the families of civilized communities, so long will also family prayer be fostered in every truly Christian home. For, even apart from the value of family prayer as a means of securing the blessings of religion, it will ever be incumbent on the family as a specific duty. The family is a perfect natural society, a distinct entity in itself; and as such it owes God an act of common worship. It is not enough that the single members of the family practice their religion; the family itself as a society must pay its homage to the Creator and Lord of the family; and this is done by family prayer.

SAYING GRACE ALOUD

How often this duty will be performed, will depend on each family’s devotion, and more particularly on the religious zeal of the parents. In families where different members rise at different hours, it is usually unpractical, if not impossible, to recite the morning prayer in common; but the evening prayer could easily be a family prayer, especially in young families; and this practice is most heartily to be recommended. There is no valid excuse anywhere, however, for not saying grace at meals aloud together; and I hope that no father or mother who reads this will fail to introduce the practice, if it does not yet exist in their families. The prayer most suited for this purpose is without doubt the “Our Father,” to which may be appropriately added the “Hail Mary” and, before meals, “Bless us, O Lord, etc.” and after meals, “We thank Thee, O Lord, etc.” To recite these three prayers aloud, slowly and distinctly, and to make the sign of the cross before and after, requires no more than one minute of time. Surely no Christian can be so niggardly with God as to say that that is too much; or to contend that to devote a minute to prayer before and after each meal would be to convert the home into a monastery. Yet I pronounce no anathema against the family that is content with less. Where appetites are especially keen, the chances are that the saying of a short prayer is more likely to become regular than the saying of a long one. And hence, as a compromise, I would suggest that the afore-mentioned prayers be said in common at least before and after the principal meal, and that a part of them be said at the other meals.

SEASONAL DEVOTIONS

In addition to daily family prayers, there should be also seasonal prayers in common in all Christian families, especially during the months of May and October and during the holy seasons of Advent and Lent. There are, it is true, special devotions in church at these seasons, two or three times a week; but a good Catholic should not be content with these. If the family is to share the blessings of religion to the full, the changes of the ecclesiastical year, which are so striking a feature of the services in church, should be reflected also in the home. Very suitable for these seasonal devotions in the home are the approved litanies of the Sacred Heart, the Holy Name, the Blessed Virgin, and St. Joseph, and above all the rosary. The rosary, with its joyful, sorrowful, and glorious mysteries, is appropriate for every season; is made up of the best of all prayers; can be lengthened or shortened according to pleasure; is easily recited by even a small child, and is enriched with numerous indulgences. Consisting, too, as it does of a number of different prayers linked together by the consideration of a certain mystery for the purpose of praising God, the rosary is a fitting symbol of the Christian family, whose members are united by the bonds of blood and religion; who share joys, sorrows, and glories in common; and who work together for a common end-their temporal and eternal welfare and happiness.

OVERCOMING BASHFULNESS

I realize that in families where the custom does not exist, a certain bashfulness in regard to spiritual matters will have to be overcome in order to make a start; but once the ice is broken and a beginning made, it will be easy to develop the practice. Women and girls are usually less backward than men and boys in these matters; and as in so many other worthy causes, so here, too, let them take the initiative. They know how to coax the men folk in order to attain their own personal aims. Let them employ the same knowledge for the benefit of the entire family. God will most certainly reward them richly if they establish in the family this pious practice of saying the rosary; for to them will go the credit of enriching their home with those spiritual roses that fill it with the fragrance of Heaven’s blessing.

THE GOLDEN MEAN

It is hardly necessary to remind parents that even in fostering so praiseworthy a practice as family prayer, they should not attempt too much. As in all things, so here, too, one must observe the golden mean. Children cannot be expected to devote as much time to prayer as their elders do, or should do. They naturally take more to play than to prayer; and if they are indiscreetly obliged to take part in interminable prayers, there is danger of creating in them a distaste for prayer. Such a method defeats its own end. The object in accustoming children to say their prayers regularly from the time they begin to talk, is to develop in them a love of prayer and a realization of the need of it. This can be done while their hearts are still pliable by teaching them very short prayers as early as possible, and by gradually making them understand that when they pray they are speaking to the good God, from whom all blessings flow; to their loving Jesus, who came upon earth that they might come to Heaven; and to the Mother of Jesus or to their Guardian Angel and the Saints.

MAKING PRAYER SPONTANEOUS

This background of religious truth and Gospel story is of the greatest importance in teaching the young to love prayer and to feel the need of it; and it should not be hard for any mother who has a little piety herself to instill into her children such anappreciation of God’s greatness, goodness and power that prayer will come natural to them as the spontaneous utterance of their grateful and confiding hearts. Or would it really be so hard, even before the infants are able to speak, to make the sign of the cross over them and to say a brief morning and evening prayer aloud in their stead, thus accustoming them to the sound of the words, so that “the good God” or “Jesus” or “Mary” might be the first word their innocent lips would utter?

Would it not be easy to show them pictures of Jesus and tell them stories of Jesus, as their understanding develops-stories of His childhood, of Bethlehem, the stable, Mary and Joseph, the singing angels and the adoring shepherds-stories of His public life-how He loved children, how the crowds followed Him, how He went about doing good? Remember, mothers, that your little ones” sanctified souls are hungry for knowledge of God and holy things. So tell them how much God loves them; that it is God who made all the good and beautiful things they see-the fruits and flowers, the trees and bushes and grass, the birds and the fishes, the soft-furred kitten and the friendly dog. Tell them, too, how poor Jesus was; that He became poor for love of us. Speak to them of Jesus in the Tabernacle, and awaken in them a desire to visit Him. In this way, not by threatening or scolding but by gently leading and by instilling knowledge which will of itself yield motives for prayer, you will surely implant deep in them for life, if not a love, at least a strong feeling of the appropriateness of daily prayer.

MOTHERS OF FUTURE SAINTS

But to pursue such a course, some may say, would be to try to make a saint out of every child. Well, is that such an awful possibility to contemplate? Somewhere in the world to-day are the mothers of the saints of to-morrow; and not of the saints only but of the criminals also; of the great as well as the lowly, the heroes and the outcasts, the successes and the failures. You know not what latent possibilities are in your child. Of one thing only are you sure, that one day he will be numbered either among the elect or the reprobate. What his eternal lot will be, will depend largely upon his practice or his neglect of prayer. Have a care, mother dear, lest his neglect of it be laid to your charge.

JACOB’S LADDER

When Jacob, the son of Isaac, fled from the anger of his brother, Esau, into the land of Haran, he pursued his journey until after sunset; and then, weary and footsore, he laid himself down to sleep, resting his head on a stone. While he slept God appeared to him in a wondrous vision. He saw a ladder that reached from earth to Heaven, and on it angels of God ascending and descending. And the Lord himself, leaning on the top of the ladder, spoke to him saying: “I am the Lord God of Abraham thy father, and the God of Isaac. . . . In thee and thy seed, all the tribes of the earth shall be blessed. And I will be thy keeper whithersoever thou goest, and will bring thee back into this land: neither will I leave thee, till I shall have accomplished all that I have said.”

Upon awaking, Jacob trembled and exclaimed full of awe: “Indeed, the Lord is in this place. . . . This is no other than the house of God and the gate of Heaven” (Gen. 29).

The ladder which Jacob beheld in his dream, with angels ascending and descending, is an appropriate symbol of the prayers that ascend to Heaven from the Christian home and bring down God’s blessing on its inmates. Would to God that such a ladder would rise to Heaven from the home of every family in the land! If you would have God’s angels bear His special blessing to your homes, Christian parents; if you wish the Lord to be your keeper and to abide in your home; if you would be led back to your true home, the land of your Heavenly Father;—then let your prayers ascend to Heaven like a cloud of precious incense morning, noon, and night, and God will look down upon your home with special favor. In very truth may it then be said of your home what Jacob said of the place of his vision: “Indeed, the Lord is in this place.” During life it will be a house of God, and at the end of life the gate to Heaven.

CHAPTER III: CATHOLIC ATMOSPHERE IN THE HOME

“In order to obtain perfect education, it is of the utmost importance to see that all those conditions which surround the child during the period of his formation, in other words, the combination of circumstances which we call enthronement, correspond exactly to the end proposed. The first natural and necessary clement in this environment, as regards education, is the family, and this precisely because so ordained by the Creator Himself.”

-”Pius XI in “Christian Education of Youth.”

NEED OF HEALTHY ATMOSPHERE

To enjoy the great boon of good health, it is not enough for one to be cleanly in one’s person, to partake of sufficient wholesome food and drink, and to take a proper amount of exercise. Many a child in the crowded districts of our great centers of industry has plenty of good food and exercise and has been taught by a loving mother to cultivate the habit of personal cleanliness, and yet is far from enjoying good health. Living in the shadow of huge buildings, breathing in constantly the smoke and dust of near-by factories that becloud and bedim the small portion of sunlight that it receives, instead of attaining the full vigor and sprightliness of the normal child, it must languish and pale like a flower in a sterile soil. But take this child from these unpropitious surroundings place it in the country far from the dusty city; let it bask in a glory of sunshine and drink deep draughts of pure country air; and the bloom that will redden its cheeks, the sparkle that will light up its eyes, and the lilt that will appear in its gait will proclaim the beneficial effects of such a change. The one thing that was wanting to the child was a healthy atmosphere; and such an atmosphere we must all have in order to remain in a state of perfect health.

Now what is true of the body and natural life is equally true of the soul and the religious life. If the vitality of a Catholic’s Faith is not to be gradually weakened by the contagion of irreligion that infests practically our entire public life, he must be able to spend the greater part of his private life in a place where the moral atmosphere is not only not tainted but is positively religious; and this he will be able to do only if he have a morally healthy and religiously bracing atmosphere in his own home.

ATMOSPHERE OF THE HOME

The reader will readily understand that in homes where family prayer is regularly practiced, much has already been done to create a religious atmosphere; for by the atmosphere of the home I mean, broadly speaking, the aggregate of external influences in the home, affecting the spirituality of the members of the family, and, in a narrower sense, the sum-total of sensible objects in the home capable of exerting a favorable or unfavorable influence upon the religious or moral life of its inmates. Just as we are variously affected as regards our bodies by the material atmosphere in which we live,—by its heat and cold, by the gases and germs and minute particles of dust that it holds: so, too, are our souls affected by the sensible objects around us; and the aggregate of such objects is accordingly quite appropriately called moral atmosphere.

EFFECT OF ENVIRONMENT

That the moral atmosphere or environment, as it may also be styled, exerts a strong influence upon a man’s habits and the formation of his character, no one that has the slightest knowledge of human nature will presume to deny. It is a principle of sound philosophy that there is no conception in the mind which is not preceded by a perception of one of the five senses; and since it is the mind and will that govern our rational actions, it follows that our sense-perceptions, notably those of seeing and hearing, must have a powerful influence upon our actions. Absolutely speaking, of course, a person may shake off this influence; but the important thing to be noted is that the influence is there and is felt even though it be withstood; and since we must be guided by what ordinarily happens and not by what is theoretically possible, parents and other responsible persons should see to it that the moral atmosphere in their home is such as will exert a wholesome influence on all in the household. It is true, the influence exerted by environment produces its effects slowly and perhaps imperceptibly; but it may not for that reason be belittled or ignored, any more than the slowly but constantly dripping water which little by little hollows the stone.

A WORLDLY ATMOSPHERE

To state in the first place what the moral atmosphere of the home should not be, if it is to meet the requirements of a truly Christian home, I would say that it should not be worldly. Worldliness is diametrically opposed to religion. The spirit of the Catholic religion is the spirit of the Gospel, and the name for that spirit is unworldliness. The whole purpose of the Catholic religion is to turn our thoughts, our hopes, our aspirations and our efforts away from this world to the other world; and we are good Catholics only in so far as we realize this end. Christ tells us plainly: “You cannot serve two masters.” We cannot serve God and the world. Yet one of the two we must serve. Hence we are oblige to choose either the one or the other. If we choose to serve God, if we want to rule our life according to the precepts of the Gospel, then we must banish worldliness from our homes. If we fail to banish worldliness even from our homes, which we are free to fashion to suit our own tastes and to meet our own wants, then we plainly show that the world still has a place in our hearts.

EXTRAVAGANT FURNISHINGS

But how does this worldliness manifest itself in the home? When may the atmosphere of the home be said to have a worldly character? First of all, when its dominant note is luxury or extravagance. If the Christian’s attitude towards wealth must square with those two statements of Our Lord: “Blessed are the poor in spirit,” and “How hardly shall they that have riches enter into the kingdom of God” (Mk., 10, 23), then it is plainly an evidence of worldliness, or opposition to the spirit of Christianity, if wealth obtrudes itself in the home from every nook and corner. I do not say that a rich Catholic may not have a splendid home, furnished in a manner suited to his station in life. But there should be no boldly conspicuous display of wealth, evidencing an inordinate love of worldly magnificence and a disposition to glory in it. That would show a worldly spirit.

But it is not only the rich who may sin by extravagance. Families of the middle class are just as often guilty. The homes of such families betray a very decided spirit of worldliness when they are quite evidently furnished more richly than the owners” modest means can afford. We are in conscience bound to make a discreet use of our earthly goods and to make our expenditures in proportion to our means. The endeavor to match the splendor of one’s own home with that of the homes of one’s more well-to-do acquaintances proceeds from pride and leads to other unchristian practices besides the misapplication of one’s earthly goods. In order to be able to earn more money to spend on luxuries, some young wives persist in retaining the gainful positions which they had before marriage, and for the sake of this filthy lucre sinfully postpone the task of rearing a family. That is the worst kind of worldliness-the kind that weighs duty and worldly goods in the balance and deliberately chooses the latter. Beware of it, my dear young couples. Beware! (See quotation below)

EXTRAVAGANCE IN DRESS

What has been said of excessive expenditures for the furnishing and decorating of one’s home, is equally true of extravagance in ornamenting one’s person. The home may be given a worldly touch by the unduly rich or extremely stylish apparel of the persons that dwell in it. One is certainly allowed to dress well and becomingly within the limits of one’s means and according to the requirements of one’s station in life; but in no station in life is there an excuse for extravagance. There may be no injustice to anyone if a woman buys all the exquisite gowns, rare jewels, and costly footwear and headgear that she can possibly pay for; but neither is there any charity in it or Christian moderation; and justice is not the only virtue that must regulate the use we make of our worldly goods. We are bound also by the law of moderation and of charity; and it is sinful to waste money for the extravagant decoration of one’s person or one’s home when there are thousands of deserving poor who have not even the necessary food, clothing, and shelter.

POPE PIUS XI ON MOTHERS WHO WORK AWAY FROM HOME

“Mothers will above all devote their work to the home and the things connected with it. Intolerable and to be opposed with all our strength is the abuse whereby mothers of families, because of the insufficiency of the father’s salary, are forced to engage in gainful occupations outside the domestic walls, to the neglect of their own proper caresand duties, particularly the education of their children.”

-Encyclical “Quadragesimo Anno,” on the Social Order.

N.B. -If His Holiness condemns the abuse whereby mothers are forced to work away from their homes, what must he think of those mothers, who, without any compulsion whatever, entirely of their own accord, pursue gainful occupations outside the domestic walls?

KEEPING A FAMILY BUDGET

The best way for parents to avoid excessive or ill-advised expenditures is to keep a family budget. Let them make a careful study of their resources and a classified list of their needs; e.g., housing, food, clothing, running expenses, improvement, and savings. Then let them fix a certain percentage of their income for each of these items of expense, and hold their disbursements strictly within the budget allowance, unless real necessity or charity require otherwise. It is hardly necessary to remark that also such expenses as church, school and club dues, charity and amusements must be figured in the budget, and that according to the aforesaid classification these, together with all outlays for reading material, could be put under the heading improvement; that is, mental, moral, or physical. Keeping a home and family is just as much a business as running a store; so why should it not be kept on a business basis? Many couples have had their eyes opened by keeping an itemized account of disbursements. They found that they had been extravagant without realizing it. But if keeping tab on one’s expenses teaches economy, it should be done in every Christian home; for economy, supernaturalized, is nothing but the Christian virtue of moderation.

A TOUCH OF PAGANISM

Another indication of worldliness in the home is the unchristian and sometimes even pagan character of the objects with which it is equipped. Let us enter such a home. What do we see? At our very entrance, perhaps, a painting of Apollo dancing with thin-clad muses on the lawn; there a lamp or candelabrum supported by the nude figure of Cupid; in a corner, perhaps, a statue of Venus of Milo; on the library table various gay-colored magazines displaying bathing girls or notorious “movie” actresses on the front covers; on the mantle a snow-white bust of Pallas or some other mythological deity; and here and there as we wander through the various apartments, sundry other ornaments and articles of a like character. Will any Catholic maintain that such objects are appropriate in a Christian home? Yet there are Catholic homes, and not a few of them, in which such ornaments are quite common. In some cases their presence is due to mere thoughtlessness or sheer worldlymindedness, and no conscience is made of it. In others, however, a sense of guilt is manifested by the care with which such objects are removed when a visit of the pastor or some other clergyman is expected.

REGARD FOR MODESTY

To be in thorough accord with its profession of Christianity, the home of a Catholic family should be free from all things of this kind. The home is not an art museum; and statues of pagan deities that may be tolerated in museums are out of place in a Christian home. And so, too, are all images not in conformity with Christian modesty. It will not be enough to limit them to a small representation. Neither will it suffice to confine them to one place, say the reception room, in order that there at least you may show your broadmindedness to the non-Catholics who enter your home. No, a Catholic home should contain nothing that proclaims sympathy with the spirit of the world. One picture, one statue, one ornament may mar the character of an entire room and thwart the good effect that other images are calculated to produce. Away, then, Catholic fathers and mothers, with all worldliness from your homes! You are exposed enough to its contagion when you go abroad. At least be quit of it when you enter the sanctuary of your own home.

AN INSIDIOUS PROPAGANDA

If pictures and statues of persons insufficiently clad give an air of worldliness to the home, what must be the effect of such lack of modesty in the living inmates? There is an insidious propaganda abroad in our day to tear down the conventions that Christian civilization has established as safeguards of the virtue of purity. Despite the specious reasons advanced in its defense; e.g., that one should become familiar with the nude in order not to be affected by it, the plain purpose of this propaganda is to substitute a pagan code for our Christian code of morality. This purpose is the more evident since some of the more outspoken adherents of the movement have declared that the Ten Commandments are antiquated and that there is no longer such a thing as sin. In view of this threat of paganism, the duty of Catholics is clear. Neither in the home nor elsewhere may there be any letting down of the bars of decency and Christian propriety. And mothers should so train their children from childhood on that they will never presume to appear in the presence of others without being modestly covered Those girls who make no conscience of exposing themselves in the presence of their sisters, will gradually come to make nothing of wearing insufficient clothing in public. And when modesty is thrown to the winds, purity will not be slow to follow.

II. A CATHOLIC ATMOSPHERE

Worldliness, then, must be banished from the Christian home, if the latter is to fulfill its mission of helping the individual Catholic to resist the enticements of the world. Yet when we have purified our homes of worldliness, our task is not yet completed. We must provide also a distinctly Catholic atmosphere. There are Catholic homes, or I should say rather, there are homes of Catholics, that do not contain the slightest evidence of the religion of those that dwell in them. You may see there pictures of beautiful birds and horses and dogs; of landscapes and castles; of distinguished authors, musicians and statesmen; but you will look in vain for any religious token of a distinctly Catholic character. The occupants of such homes justify this want by saying that they do not believe in parading their religion before the world. I agree that ordinarily we need not parade our religion before the world; but are we doing that when we give it scope within the sacred precincts of our own homes? The Catholic who fails to avail himself of the external aids to religion provided by religious objects in the home shows that religion is not a dominant factor in his life.

PORTRAITS OF YOUR FRIENDS

By all means, therefore, let there be some distinctly Catholic images in your home, if you wish to enjoy the advantages of a healthy Catholic atmosphere. Far from being singular or obtrusive, nothing could be more natural or more appropriate. If you hang portraits of your relatives and friends and of eminent men and women on the walls of your home, should you not do as much for the best of all your friends and the greatest of all illustrious men and women-Our Blessed Lord and the saints? There is no valid reason why these latter should be restricted to the bedrooms or to some obscure corners. It is true, the home is not a church; and if one has a special place at home for prayer, a little shrine to which one can withdraw for undisturbed communion with God, it is quite proper that it be in a somewhat secluded spot. Neither is the home a church goods store; and it may be no impiety, therefore, if some one expresses his dislike of a home so crowded with religious pictures that they seem to be on display for sale. Allowance must he made in this matter for individual tastes. Some delight in a profusion of ornamentation, while others are for using it very sparingly. But whether your taste favors much or little decoration in the home, see to it that the religious element is not stinted.

THE CHIEF SYMBOL OF YOUR FAITH

Foremost among the religious articles that should have a place of honor in every Catholic home is the Crucifix, the image of our crucified Savior. The Cross is the principal emblem of the Catholic religion; it is the symbol of our Faith, the source of our hope, the incentive to our love, the sign of our redemption, the pledge of our salvation. A beautiful and also moderately large Crucifix should be one of the finest and most cherished ornaments in the home. But there should be at least a small yet properly fashioned Crucifix also in each one of the bedrooms. It is deplorable that so many Catholics are satisfied with any kind of Crucifix, no matter how poorly it is made. They can afford to have large and expensive portraits of their parents and children, but balk at spending a few dollars for a worthy image of their crucified Savior. Let them remember that just as their taste is betrayed by the other objects, so the depth of their Faith is indicated by the quality of the religious images with which their home is equipped.

IMAGE OF THE SACRED HEART

Other images that should be seen in every Catholic home are a picture of the Holy Family and of the Sacred Heart of Jesus. Pope Leo XIII prescribed that all Christian families should be consecrated to the Holy Family; and Our Lord revealed to St. Margaret Mary that He would bless all houses where an image of His Sacred Heart would be exposed and honored. The choice of other pictures must be left to each one’s individual taste and devotion, always, however, in entire accord with the teaching of our holy religion and the spirit of Holy Mother Church. A picture of the Child Jesus or of the Guardian Angel would be very appropriate for the children’s apartments; and one of the Blessed Virgin and of St. Joseph in the rooms of the larger girls and boys respectively. In each bedroom, at least, there should be a vase with holy water, which should be religiously used on rising and before retiring. And in a becoming place, one should preserve some blessed palm branches and at least two blessed candles, the latter in suitable candlesticks.

UNEDIFYING PICTURES

While, as I have said, the selection of the different images must be left to each one’s own taste, one quality must be insisted on as indispensable: the images must be such as will edify. If they are not of a nature to edify, then they cannot possibly produce the effect that they are employed to produce; namely, a wholesome Catholic atmosphere. The requirement that the pictures be edifying may seem to be rather vague and indefinite; but it furnishes a working rule that will answer all practical purposes. The main thing is to eliminate all images that are not edifying; and such one may call all those that represent Our Lord or the saints in a manner unworthy of them; that is to say, in an attitude or attire or in circumstances in which they themselves would certainly not wish to be pictured or seen. If no one would feel himself honored to find a caricature or other unworthy representation of himself on the wall of your home, how can you expect by means of similar pictures to please Our Lord and the saints?

UNTRUE TO HISTORY

It is no excuse to say that a certain picture is true to history, that it merely represents an actual fact in the life of the saint. That an immoral pagan judge subjected a saint to indignities does not justify us in repeating the indecency on canvas. But many representations lack even this flimsy excuse, as they are positively untrue to history. In the Gospel story of the birth of our Savior, for example, we are told that the Virgin Mother wrapped the Babe in swaddling clothes; yet we find pictures inscribed “The Nativity” in which the Divine Child is not only not wrapped in swaddling clothes but not clad at all. The same is true of the Christ Child on many Madonnas. No one will maintain that such a representation is true to history. Neither is it true to the highest standard of Catholic art; and least of all is it true to that reverent delicacy of treatment due to the august person of the Child Divine.

I realize quite well that strict insistence on this rule will debar many a picture from the Catholic home. Be it so. There are hundreds of other sacred pictures to choose from,—pictures that are in every way satisfactory, in point of art no less than in point of propriety. Let such only adorn your walls, and the sight of them will be to you a source not only of edification in your daily life but of consolation and encouragement in days of sorrow and distress; and a daily reminder that if you but imitate the example of the saints whom they represent, you too will one day share their happiness.

GOOD EXAMPLE

In the foregoing pages, I have dwelt only on the visible objects that give character to the home- on what I have called its moral atmosphere in the narrow sense. It will be remembered, however, that I defined the home atmosphere also in a broader sense; namely, as the aggregate of external influences in the home affecting the spiritual life of the inmates. In this broader sense, the words and deeds of the inmates also contribute essentially to the moral atmosphere, and if the latter is to be thoroughly Catholic, the general tone of conversation and conduct in the home must reflect a Catholic mentality. The Holy Father emphasizes this point in the following passage of His Encyclical on the Christian Education of Youth: “That education, as a rule, will be more effective and lasting which is received in a well-ordered and well-disciplined Christian family; and the more efficacious in proportion to the clear and constant good example set first by the parents and then by the other members of the household.”

THE CATHOLIC MIND

One cannot, it is true, in view of human frailty, expect that the members of even the better Catholic families will never be guilty of wrong-doing of any kind. But what can be expected is that when wrong-doing does occur, it will be found to be out of keeping with the surroundings. In other words, should deviations from Catholic standards sometimes occur in practice, there should at least be no deviation from Catholic principles in theory. Should the conversation, for example, turn on such subjects as Sunday observance, frequent Communion, mixed marriages, cremation, forbidden societies and books, attendance of Catholics at non-Catholic schools, the relations between Church and State and the like, the attitude of the Church will be accepted without question. The accepted stand of every member of the family will be the same as that of the Church; and if in any instance any member should mistakingly espouse a contrary opinion, he will at once recede from it when assured that it is not in accord with the teaching of Holy Mother Church. This is what is meant by the Latin phrase “sentire cum ecclesia,” “to be of one mind with the Church,” to have the Catholic mentality or the Catholic mind. In homes where such a mentality prevails nothing will be found that antagonizes the Church. No songs will be heard that offend against Christian virtue; no literature will be tolerated that openly or insidiously undermines Catholic morals; and no radio programs will be listened to that disseminate false doctrines of a religious or moral character.

HOMES OF THE EARLY CHRISTIANS

Would to God there were more Catholic homes of this kind scattered up and down our beloved land, homes that are in every sense Catholic and veritable strongholds of Christianity! Some will no doubt aver that it is an idle dream to expect an increase in the number of such homes amid the adverse conditions of our age. But are the conditions of our age any worse than were the conditions of pagan Rome? The moral atmosphere of Rome at the dawn of Christianity was so corrupt that vice was not only tolerated but even enthroned as a god in certain forms of religious worship. Yet, despite the universal corruption without, so pure, so holy and so heavenly an atmosphere pervaded the homes of the Christians that it not only kept their minds untainted and their hearts unsullied, but, by its own superior power expanding and radiating from those homes, gradually purified even the public atmosphere and in the end brought about the conversion of the entire Roman people.

Who shall say that what was accomplished in those days is impossible of accomplishment now? It would require perhaps a miracle of grace; but the days of miracles are not over. Catholic families, however, need not look so far ahead nor to such far reaching results for inducements to preserve a Catholic atmosphere in their homes. Such an atmosphere will offer them full and immediate compensation for the pains required to maintain it. It will keep their religion pure and undefiled and keep them unspotted of this world.

Nihil Obstat

Fr. Conradin Wallbraun, O.F.M.

Fr. Liberatus Presser, O.F.M. Censor Dep.

Imprimi Permittitur:

Fr. Optatus Loeffler, O.F.M. Min. Prov. Die 2 Martii, 1934

Imprimatur:

@ George Cardinal Mundelein April 7, 1934.

TO CHRISTIAN FATHERS AND MOTHERS, HUSBANDS AND WIVES AND TO ALL HOME LOVERS THE WORLD OVER. THIS LITTLE VOLUME IS AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED UNDER THE PATRONAGE OF THE SUPREME MODELS OF THE CHRISTIAN HOME:

JESUS, MARY, AND JOSEPH

********

The Christian Home Part 2

INDEX

CHAPTER IV: GOOD READING IN THE HOME

CULTURE AN ALLY OF RELIGION

BECAUSE of the great emphasis that the Church incessantly lays upon the supreme importance of the supernatural goods and objects of life, a Catholic might easily be led to the conclusion that all merely natural attainments are to be despised and neglected. Such a conclusion would be unwarranted, as was pointed out to the present writer himself, when, as a small boy, he protested that there was no use in learning grammar, because one “didn’t need to know grammar to get to Heaven.” While it is quite true that the possession of sanctifying grace and of the supernatural virtues is of such tremendous importance that all other things of earth pale into insignificance by comparison; while we must admit that a rude and unlettered but upright and religious man will fare better on the day of judgment than the educated but unprincipled villain who passes in the eyes of the world for a refined gentleman; while, in fine, it is undeniable that genuine virtue can exist without the conventional graces of society, and that faultless manners do not imply interior worth; yet it is none the less certain that culture of mind as well as urbanity of speech are powerful allies of religion; that virtue will show to better advantage when coupled with good breeding; and that purely natural gifts can be supernaturalized and made the medium of the rarest Christian virtue.

For a Christian, therefore, to set at naught the natural virtues and secular learning is not only wrong but foolish as well. Even in God’s own dispensation, the natural is always made the basis of the supernatural. Hence the true Christian policy is not to belittle the natural, which is also from God, but to cherish it and exploit it, and, by directing it towards higher ends, invest it with a supernatural character.

I. VALUE OF TASTE FOR BEAUTY

It is in view of this splendid teamwork that can be done by culture when yoked with religion, that I do not hesitate to advocate good reading in the home first of all for the purpose of cultivating a taste for beauty. A man may, it is true, love God with his whole heart without appreciating the beauty of an ode by Francis Thompson, a melody by Gounod, a statue by Michelangelo, or a painting by Raphael. But just as philosophy, which is a natural science, deserves to be styled the handmaid of theology; so also taste, or the ability to appreciate the beauties of nature and art, may be made subservient to religion or to the love of God. In other words, if theology is aided by philosophy because the object of both these sciences is truth, of the former supernatural, of the latter natural; then taste, whose object is natural beauty, will be a suitable ally of the love of God, whose object is divine beauty.

BEAUTY OF VIRTUE

Let me illustrate this by a comparison. A human passion, such as anger, fear, love, is something indifferent, that is, in itself neither good nor bad. If anger is directed towards a proper object and kept within proper bounds, it is something good. It helps to intensify one’s hatred of evil. Now a like effect is achieved by the capacity to appreciate beauty. There is nothing in man more beautiful than grace and virtue-than Charity, Faith, and Hope, than purity, humility, meekness; than fortitude in danger, forgiveness of injuries, cheerfulness amid suffering and pain. Hence, the more we have learned to appreciate what is beautiful, the more can our love of virtue be intensified; for by viewing virtue not only as something useful and obligatory but also as something beautiful, we shall have an additional reason for loving it, and we shall strive with greater eagerness to possess it.

As I shall devote this chapter not to a discussion of the beautiful arts in general but only to setting forth the reasons why Catholics should read good literature, the practical question to ask here is: How can a taste for good literature or good reading be acquired? The answer is: In the same way as any other taste is acquired. How does one acquire a taste for oysters or olives? By eating them. The way to acquire a taste for good books is by reading them.

MAKING DUTY A PLEASURE

Once a taste for good literature has been acquired, it will be of the greatest help in forming the habit of good reading; and hence parents cannot begin too early to cultivate this taste in their children and thus lay the foundation of the reading habit. To a certain extent, reading is a duty in our day; and nothing will make the fulfilling of this duty more agreeable than the ability to appreciate good books and well-written articles. It is much the same with reading as with eating. Few people would likely eat enough to preserve their health, if they had no relish for food. And even though we eat for the honor of God, as St. Paul exhorts us to do, it is when we have an appetite that we derive the most beneficial results from eating. So, too, it is with mental food. If we take pleasure in reading, we shall peruse many a useful book and many an informing article that we should otherwise not even look at. And even when we read from a sense of duty, we profit more by it if it gives us pleasure as well.

REFINING EFFECT OF GOOD READING

Closely akin to good taste or refinement of mind is refinement of character; and this, too, is furthered by good reading. The reading of good literature has the same effecton one’s character as the association with good and wise companions. A writer’s best thoughts, most noble emotions, and finest imagery enter into a good book or good piece of literature; and the reader’s character cannot but benefit, even though unconsciously, by coming into such intimate contact with them. The good thoughts kept in the storehouse of the mind become, sometimes even long after the author is forgotten, the mainspring of good deeds; the noble feelings strike a sympathetic chord in the reader’s heart and attune it to lofty aspirations; the vivid pictures leave an indelible impress on the imagination and thus help to preserve both the ideas and the sentiments. Even as a handkerchief that is kept for a time in a perfumed casket takes on a delicatefragrance, so is a man’s character sweetened by the reading of good literature. Especially is this true of books that depict the lives of great and holy men and women; for in such books we have in addition to the excellent thought content the inspiring example of real human beings who were the very embodiment of the noblest ideals.

A SPLENDID RECREATION

Nor may we overlook the great benefit that good reading offers merely as a source of recreation. The ability to derive pleasure from good reading opens up avenues of wholesome recreation that would otherwise remain forever closed. We are so constituted that we must have relaxation of some kind; yet as rational beings and above all as Christians we should beware of choosing such forms of recreation as simply kill time. It is an awful thing to waste time, each moment of which can purchase the pearl of an eternal reward. And as we shall have to render an account of every idle word, so we shall have to give an account also of the use we have made of our time. Now there is no finer intellectual pastime than reading; no more entertaining companionship than a good author. It is true that reading always implies a certain amount of exercise of the mental faculties, and hence work; but what rational recreation does not require activity of one kind or another? Most of our recreations consist essentially in a diversion; not in a change from work to idleness, but in a change from one kind of activity to another: from manual work to mental work or contrariwise; or even from one kind of physical or intellectual activity to a different kind in the same order. Thus a cobbler, who does manual labor indoors all day, finds recreation in doing a little gardening in the evening; while a bookkeeper or stenographer, or even a student, after doing brainwork all day, nevertheless often recreates himself by working out crossword puzzles or writing verses at night. Far from being an objection to reading as a means of recreation, the mental activity implied in reading should rather be an inducement, since it stamps reading as recreation of a high order.

“MOVIES” NO SUBSTITUTE FOR READING

A more subtle objection to reading as a recreation is advanced in our day. So many literary masterpieces, we are told, may now be seen represented by moving pictures that there is no need of reading the originals, since seeing the “movie” affords just as excellent a pastime. Whoever holds such a view labors under a gross illusion. Even if the literary work is only a novel-and hence one of the lowest forms of literary art,-some of the very finest elements are totally lost when it is reproduced as a movie; e.g.: the descriptions of character, the dialogues, the beauties of diction, the various figures of speech, and above all the beautiful thoughts sentiments, and images in which every truly literary work abounds. Take a moving picture like “Fabiola,” which cost an untold amount of labor and expense and was proclaimed to be a picture of exceptional merit. For sheer artistry it stands infinitely below Cardinal Wiseman’s great masterpiece from which it is taken. And as for edification, educational value, interest of narrative and charm of character, almost any three successive chapters of the book are worth more than the entire picture. And the same is true of any literary masterpiece. The moving picture most assuredly has its place in the field of education as well as recreation; but it can never fill the place occupied by literature in either of these fields.

READING FOR INSTRUCTION

As far as the religious life of the home is concerned, by far the most important aim and fruit of reading is instruction. There are laymen who may claim with some justice that their tastes and characters are already formed, and that they do not need to read to improve them; but there is none that can truthfully say that he is beyond the need of instruction. When I speak of reading for the purpose of instruction, I do not mean solely for the sake of learning something new, but also for the sake of refreshing, confirming, and clarifying the knowledge we already have. The storehouse of the mind is the memory; but in our avidity to learn facts, and in our endeavor to acquire knowledge without taking pains, we often stack this storehouse with things in such disorder and confusion that we cannot find them when we want them. In other words we forget. The knowledge really exists hidden away in the recesses of the mind, but we are unable to recall it; or can do so only by dint of long and hard racking of our memory. This shows the truth of the saying that, as regards many things at least, we do not so much need to be told as to be reminded. We must be reminded again and again until the knowledge becomes readily available at our beck and call.

DEEPENING ONE’S RELIGIOU S KNOWLEDGE

It is true that religious instruction is imparted in church and in the Catholic school; but even supposing the most thorough Catholic schooling and the attentive hearing of a weekly sermon, no average Catholic is beyond the necessity of improving his knowledge of religion by frequent reading. It stands to reason that religious knowledge acquired when the mind is still immature is capable of increase, of widening and deepening as a person grows older. And grown-up Catholics need a far more reasoned and more perfect grasp of the truths of their religion; not only in order to strengthen their Faith amid the dangers of an ungodly world, but also in order to defend it against the attacks of non-Catholics with whom they daily come in contact. For this reason it is important that they be reminded of the truths of their religion not only once a week but daily; that what their pastors tell them from the pulpit be repeated to them in different form by laymen like themselves; that they learn how to apply the standard of religion and the moral standards of the Church to the changed conditions of modern life and to the new problems that are being discussed; that examples be frequently placed before their minds of sterling Catholic men who held Catholic principles and fearlessly put them into practice in business, in politics, as well as in their professional, social, and private life; that they be kept informed of the most noteworthy local, national and international events affecting the Church; in a word, that they be kept abreast of the times in all important Catholic matters.

II

The good results and advantages derived from reading which I have here set forth, should prove a sufficient inducement to anyone to cultivate the reading habit, and furnish a satisfactory answer to the question why one should read. Another question, a question of more practical importance, is: What should we read? My answer will be twofold. We should not read what is dangerous or injurious but what is wholesome and useful.

DRINKING FILTHY WATER

If a doctor would give a lecture explaining and praising the highly beneficial effects of the frequent use of water for drinking, washing and bathing, none of his hearers surely would understand him to speak of the use of any but clean and pure water.

The same is to be understood of what I have said of the good effects of reading. The water that we drink and the food that we eat do not more truly enter into our system than what we read enters into our mind. Should we, then, not be at least as particular about what we read as about what we eat and drink? How fastidious many people are nowadays about the cleanliness of their bodies! How much time and care do they not devote to bathing; to removing blemishes; to rendering and keeping the skin soft and smooth! And what vast sums of money do they not spend on fine soaps and creams and powders and other cosmetics, only to keep that corruptible body of clay sweet and clean! And yet these same people, who would shrink with horror from drinking filthy water or from bathing in a polluted stream, do not hesitate to read things that fill the mind with sordid ideas, stain the imagination with filthy images and stir up impure emotions in the heart. The mind can be soiled just as easily as the body. As you cannot touch pitch without being defiled by it, so neither can you avoid besoiling your mind, if you allow it to tread the slippery paths of unclean literature.

SUGAR-COATED POISON

Nor is the danger of defiling and corrupting the mind to be found only in writings that are pronouncedly immoral or irreligious. Disease germs may prove fatal just as well when taken into the system in wholesome food as when received alone from contact; and poison is poison whether taken straight or with a coating of sugar. There is a vast amount of literature in our day,-books, magazines, newspapers,-that is more or less infected with the germs of moral disease and the poison of unbelief; and it is the more dangerous because the harmful matter is contained amid a deal of harmless matter, or concealed under a false show of humanitarianism, patriotism, equity, justice and the like. We must not forget that all literature, in the main, breathes the spirit of those that produce it; and as the great bulk of literature that appears daily is the product of religiously indifferent, agnostic and worldly minds, it quite naturally breathes the spirit of religious indifferentism, agnosticism and worldliness; and, say what you will, such literature is dangerous to ordinary Catholics because its spirit is contagious.

SOURCE OF UNCHRISTIAN VIEWS

Or whence is it that so many Catholics have decidedly unchristian and worldly views on certain subjects? Without doubt from seeing these views expressed and plausibly set forth, or simply assumed as self-evident, in current nonCatholic writings. The views that Catholic young folk often entertain in regard to marriage and courtship evidently come from this source. Some columnist in a daily paper dispenses advice to lovers, and it is accepted and acted on even though it runs counter to the warnings of confessor and pastor. In like manner another writer devoid of Christian principles descants daily on such weighty topics as evolution, capital punishment, free will, parental authority, selfrepression, education, canons of art, the fashion, science and religion; and from the very cocksureness of the author, his dicta are widely accepted just as of old the answers of an oracle.

UNCHRISTIAN OUTLOOK ON LIFE

To keep your mind sweet and clean and to prevent the purity of your Faith from becoming gradually defiled, I would advise you not to read the popular non-Catholic fiction of the day-the short stories and serial stories that appear in the daily papers and in non-Catholic magazines, as well as most of the non-Catholic novels that have appeared in recent years. I am far from maintaining that all this fiction is wholly bad, or that not even now and then something will appear that is wholly above criticism. The point I am trying to make is that most of this literature reflects an unchristian outlook on life; that the characters it depicts speak and act in a manner that makes this unchristian outlook attractive; and that frequent reading of such literature, just like intimate association with unbelievers, will by and by lead even a Catholic to adopt something of that same outlook and, all unconsciously, allow it to influence his actions.

BAD COMPANY IN FICTION

Indeed, in some respects, the mental association with the unchristian and worldly-minded characters in the secular fiction of the day is far more dangerous, because far more intimate, than association with such characters in real life. In real life one’s contact with them is usually limited to business affairs, social gatherings, or at the most to private interviews; but in the world of fiction it extends often to the characters” most secret actions and even to their most hidden thoughts. Especially in the realistic stories of our day, there is no sanctum whither the reader is not permitted to follow the characters. He not only associates with them but mentally re-lives their lives, thinks their thoughts, is imbued with their philosophy of life, stirred by their passions, and is a secret witness of all their actions. There is no getting away from the fact that frequent reading of such literature must, in the long run, have a baneful effect on the reader’s mind and character. Hence whoever is in earnest about keeping his mind and heart uncontaminated, will regard the entire field of present-day non-Catholic fiction and popular magazines, as outside the range of his reading.

CATHOLIC PERIODICALS SUPERIOR

I admit that this may seem unreasonable to those who have unthinkingly followed the great crowd without observing whither they have gone and whither they are tending. I am even willing to admit that it would be too much to ask you to give up the non-Catholic magazines if there were nothing to offer you in their place. But there is an abundance of Catholic periodical literature not only equally good but better. Mind, I do not say better from every point of view. There may be and no doubt are points in which some Catholic periodicals are inferior; but it is equally true that there are points in which they are decidedly superior, chief among these points being the thought-content, tone and spirit. And since these latter points certainly outweigh any slight advantage that some non-Catholic periodicals may have in point of literary finish, it may be said without hesitation that, all things considered, present-day Catholic periodicals are better than the non-Catholic ones.

UNHEALTHY APPETITES

The great trouble is that the relish for really good reading has to a great extent disappeared; and even many supposedly practical Catholics have got to the point where they no longer care for Catholic writings because the latter lack the sensationalism of the non-Catholic press. This is evident from the class of papers and magazines that these Catholics habitually read. It is not the high-class papers and periodicals that one finds in their homes, but such as appeal to the less noble instincts in man. Nor is it lack of literary excellence that they deplore in Catholic books and magazines. The stock complaint is that they are too dry; that they lack “punch” or “pep” or whatever the current slang word happens to be for that peculiar kind of spiciness which they imagine to be necessary to make a work interesting. But the fault really lies in themselves and not in Catholic literature. It is an unhealthy appetite that is appeased only by highly seasoned food; and such Catholics as have acquired a craving for spicy literary food can set themselves right again only by denying themselves such food and earnestly striving to develop a taste for more wholesome literature.

CHOKING THE GOOD SEED

Deep down in his heart, I am convinced, every sincere Catholic has a love for the better things in literature. It is an essential part of the Catholic mind. But in many cases this love has not been developed. Like the good seed of the sower in the Gospel, it has been choked by the more abundant and superficially more attractive output of worldly literature. If from early childhood on, parents would allow their children to have only good books and magazines, their children would develop a taste that would endure throughout their adult life. Instead of doing that, many parents bring such trash as the metropolitan Sunday newspapers into their homes and themselves explain the miscalled “funnies” to their children who are unable to read. Doubtless there are many among my readers who have thus, without much fault of their own, become prejudiced against Catholic reading matter. To them I say: Give Catholic reading a fair trial. Select a number of Catholic books and periodicals and determine to read them to the exclusion of all others for one month. If you do that with a good will and an open mind, I feel sure that at the end of the trial you will be so convinced of the superior benefits derived from Catholic reading that your only regret will be that you have been so long a stranger to that wellspring of wholesome thought and noble inspiration.

A PARENTAL DUTY

As you are mainly responsible, dear fathers and mothers, for the kind of taste for reading that your children develop, let me urge upon you the duty of providing an ample supply of Catholic magazines, books and papers in your homes. You cannot be content with one Catholic paper or magazine; you should have at least three or four; something of a devotional and something of a miscellaneous character; and something, too, for every member of the family. While many Catholic periodicals have special departments for the young, there are excellent Catholic publications devoted exclusively to juvenile readers, and one of these should be taken by every family that is still blessed with youthful members. And if the subscriptions should seem too expensive, remember that it is a false economy to starve your children’s minds while you spend more than is necessary for the feeding and clothing of their bodies. Far better would it be to retrench somewhat on expenditures for creature comforts and fine clothes than to save a few dollars by failing to provide your children with abundant and wholesome mental food. Besides, if you discontinued taking nonCatholic papers and magazines you could easily afford to take Catholic ones.

GOOD CATHOLIC BOOKS

While it is highly important nowadays to read Catholic periodicals, the very best Catholic thought is ordinarily still found in books-books that are the product of years of study and labor; books that have stood the test of time and have been handed down as a precious heirloom to posterity. For a birthday or Christmas present parents cannot do better than to present their children with a good book. Start early by giving a picture book to the children who have not yet learned to read. And let them be beautiful books, well-bound so that they will last; and thoroughly wholesome and edifying, so that they will be worth preserving. If you would make it a rule to give each child one book a year, a very respectable family library would gradually be established that would be a source of pleasure as well as of instruction for many years. A great advantage of a book over a periodical is that the book can more easily be preserved and will be read again and again; and thus its contents finally become part and parcel of the reader’s mind.

NOT ONLY STORY BOOKS

In purchasing books for the home or for their children, let parents not imagine that only books of an entertaining nature are suitable. They should occasionally make them a present also of books of a more solid character-books of instruction on the truths of our holy religion; books dealing with the moral problems of the present day; books of piety and devotion that explain how even the laity can lead a life of perfection and of closer union with Christ. There is a vast amount of such popular religious literature in existence, and it is daily growing more extensive. Nor is the cost such as would prevent any ordinary family from having a goodly supply in its home. While good Catholic story-books may also edify and indirectlyalso improve one’s religious knowledge, it is mainly books that deal expressly with religious and moral subjects that are the main helps which parents should avail themselves of to inculcate in their children the principles of truly Catholic conduct and solid piety.

III. THE BEST PLACE FOR READING

There remains yet one more question to answer: Where should we read? I answer, in the home. While persons who must travel far by street-car or by train to their place of work can profitably employ the time in reading, the home is usually the best place in which to do one’s principal reading. To be able to read with understanding and profit and even with pleasure, a certain amount of leisure and quiet is necessary, and this can mostly be had at home. I speak from experience when I declare that the presence of children does not necessarily interfere with home reading. I was one of the three youngest children in our family, and although we were normally noisy, our parents used to read practically every evening. Sometimes we would be occupied with our school tasks; sometimes we would be playing; and as years went by we usually formed part of the reading circle ourselves. For a mother who has several small children the problem is less easy; but the childrendo sleep sometime, and then is the mother’s opportunity. Can she not take up a book or magazine while putting the baby to sleep? And could she not even keep the children quiet by half reading half narrating a story to them?

WHY MOTHERS SHOULD READ

This is one of the main reasons why mothers should not neglect to read; namely, to be able to instruct and entertain their children. Stories from the life of Christ; the biographical parts of the Old Testament; the lives of the saints afford an endless source of excellent matter for the entertainment and education of the young, and it would be a pity if any mother, from failure to refresh her memory by reading, would be unable to turn this source to good account. When the children themselves are old enough to read, it is important that the parents set them a good example; for if the parents themselves do not read Catholic literature, they can hardly expect their children to do so.

SUPERVISION NECESSARY

This brings me to another reason why reading should be done in the family circle. It is a strict duty of parents to watch over the reading of their children, and not only of the younger ones but of all that are in the household; and such supervision cannot be exercised unless the children do their reading where their parents can see them. As in most other things, so also in the choice of reading matter, children of school age are unable to decide what will be good for them, and hence their parents must make the selection for them. But even the older children must be watched lest they borrow or buy books or magazines the reading of which would do them great harm. Many a wayward youth was started on the downward path by the reading of bad literature. Hence it would be seriously sinful negligence on the part of parents not to exercise a careful censorship over the reading of their children.

THEODORE ROOSEVELT’S EXAMPLE

Besides exercising great vigilance to keep improper literature out of the hands of their children, fathers and mothers should also make a free but discreet use of their parental authority to induce their children to read certain books or articles that are of special importance to them and to demand an account of their perusal. A very fine practice is to have a child read a short piece, say one of Aesop’s fables, and then give it in its own words, or to learn a few lines of poetry by heart. The late President Theodore Roosevelt tells in one of his letters, written while he was in the White House, that, on one occasion when his wife was absent, he had to take her place, listen to the children recite a poem and award them a nickel in case they knew it well. This custom might well be imitated by Catholic parents. Even if the pecuniary award be omitted, the children will be amply rewarded by the benefit they derive from the practice. But they cannot be expected to do such things of their own accord. Play has more attraction for them than reading or learning by heart, at least until they have acquired a taste for more intellectual pastimes.

Hence their parents should accustom them to devote some time every day to good reading, and they will thus acquire a habit that will be to them a source of much joy and many blessings.

THE HOME READING CIRCLE

The last reason I wish to mention why reading should be done in the home, is that it serves as an additional reason for staying at home and thus fosters home life. Like family prayer, the family reading circle should be a cherished institution in every Christian home. How happy and easy are the hearts of those parents whose children, large and small, are gathered with them around the library lamp, each one intent on his or her own book, paper, or magazine. Knowing that what the children are reading is wholesome (for they will tolerate only such reading matter in the home) they know that they are usefully occupied; and their hearts will not be racked with anxiety, as is often the case when the children are absent from home.

For the same reason, parents should not allow their children to frequent public libraries and reading rooms. Apart from the grave danger of their reading harmful literature in such places, the practice also tends to disrupt home life. The home is the proper place for the children to read as well as for the principal reading of all the members of the family. When one member of the family is at the theatre, another at his club, a third and a fourth out joy-riding, it is quite natural that the others (if there be any) w ill be tempted to neglect their reading also and seek amusement elsewhere than in the home. It were well, therefore, if several evenings a week were set aside especially for the home reading circle, so that at least on these evenings each one would profit by the presence and good example of the others.

PRESERVING OLD BOOKS

And let me say a word in favor of keeping old books in the family and handing them down from generation to generation. Many a one who gave away his picture books, scrap-books and nursery rhymes when he grew up, has later regretted that he no longer possessed those books for the entertainment of his own children. So I say, let the books remain in the family, and let each one take his or her books along when the children leave their parents to found new homes. The books would sometimes need to be bound anew; but it would be an added delight for the little ones to know that their father or mother had paged the same books in their childhood; and the parents or grandparents themselves would undoubtedly find great pleasure in viewing again with the little tots the selfsame picture books and illustrated nursery tales that charmed them when they were small.

Yes, how we were charmed by beautiful stories, beautiful pictures, beautiful toys when we were small! Then the whole world seemed beautiful. But how drab, how commonplace it appears to us now. How full of evils it is, and how deeply do we deplore our powerlessness to do away with them.

A PARADISE OF BOOKS

Yet there is a world from which we can banish all these evils- the world of books. Or rather, by cautious elimination and judicious selection from the plentiful material on hand, we can fashion for ourselves a little world, aye, a little paradise of books in our own homes. And thither we can repair daily to enjoy its pure and bracing air, its lovely change of scene and the delightful companionship of its distinguished men and women. Happy we if we have builded for ourselves such a literary garden of Eden and habituate ourselves, like our first parents, to walk therein with God. We cannot, it is true, see His face or hear the sound of His voice; yet He will oftentimes speak to us none the less distinctly through the medium of the printed page;-raising our thoughts above the petty affairs of daily life, broadening our outlook, correcting our views, calming our fears,-in a word, throwing a glow of Heaven’s light and peace on the things of earth, and thus heartening us with brighter visions to take up anew the tedious tasks of this workaday world.

CHAPTER V: HARMONY IN THE HOME

WHENEVER two or more persons are engaged in an undertaking, the importance of harmony for success is universally recognized. Thus if two persons set out on a tour by boat and plan to do their own sailing or rowing, they must agree as to the management of their craft, the route to be taken and their destiny. Otherwise their projected tour will be but the occasion of endless contentions and difficulties, will get them nowhere, and perhaps even end in disaster.

THE MARRIED COUPLE’S DESTINY

Such precisely is the situation of a young married couple that has launched out on the sea of matrimony. By most solemn vows, they have bound themselves to make the journey through life together. But what is the destination of that journey? What is the nature and purpose of the marriage contract into which they have just entered? What duties devolve upon them by virtue of that contract? What attitude must they take on the question of having children? And in the event that they have children, what obligations have they towards them, and how are these obligations to be fulfilled?

SUPERFICIAL HARMONY

These are questions which every serious-minded couple must be ready to answer, and on which they must be in substantial agreement, if they wish to live in peace and happiness and make a success of their wedded life. I say, if they wish to make a success of their wedded life; for they might live in harmony and attain to a certain measure of earthly happiness even without agreement on the aforementioned questions,-but only at the cost of the real success of their state of life. Thus they might get along in harmony if they agreed to disregard entirely the question of life’s destiny and of a future life. In like manner, they might get along harmoniously if, despite decided views or convictions on certain questions; e.g. that of the artificial limitation of the family, one of the two would yield in all practical points to the will of the other. That would be harmony on the surface, harmony in practice, harmony through compromise or even the abandonment of principle, but not that complete, deep-seated harmony of thought and action flowing from the acceptance of the same principles in all essentials, which should be the desire and aim of every Christian husband and wife.

There is no need of perfect agreement in nonessentials; and it is doubtful whether complete accord in every particular would even be desirable For, while a similarity of tastes and talents, of aversions and hobbies might add to the harmony of wedded life, a difference of likes and dislikes in some things offers a better opportunity for the one to supplement the other.

Any couple that accepts the teachings set forth in the foregoing chapters and adopts them as a form of life will I am sure, enjoy in its home the blessing of harmony in fullest measure. Yet, as there are two kinds of disharmony fraught with very especial danger to the family, which are nevertheless quite frequently disregarded, they may well be made the subject of a most emphatic warning and a more extended instruction.

A UNITED FRONT

The first of these is disharmony, or the lack of unity, in the exercise of parental authority. Children are obliged by the fourth commandment to honor and obey their parents; and parents are required by that selfsame commandment to train their children to become men and women of character and virtue. But if children are to obey, there must be an understanding between the persons who issue the commands; and if the father and mother are to train their children, they must agree as to the object and method of training to be pursued. Self-evident as this principle must appear to every thinking person, it is nevertheless a principle that is often disregarded in practice. The foundation on which the training of children must rest is parental authority; but if that authority is at odds with itself because of opposition between the persons in whom it is vested, the entire fabric reared upon it will be weak and unsteady. In their joint relations to their children, as the divinely constituted bearers of domestic authority, parents must invariably present a united front. Whatever differences of opinion, of personal likes or dislikes they may have, in their dealings with their children these differences must recede into the dark background; so that the children will not even suspect that any such disagreement exists, and in consequence will not be tempted to play one against the other or to appeal from the one to the other.

A SECOND HELPING OF PIE

To illustrate by a very common example how easily this principle can be violated, let us suppose that the family is seated at table and little Johnny asks his mother for a second piece of pie. Since he had declined to partake of some other more wholesome but less savory foods, his mother very properly answers, “No.” A little later, taking advantage of his mother’s absence in the kitchen, Johnny repeats his request to his father, who replies: “Here, you can have my piece, Johnny. I don’t care for it anyhow.” By acting thus, the father definitely takes sides with the boy against his mother; weakens her authority; neglects an opportunity of training his child; and sows the seed of discord between himself and his wife. The circumstance that the father gave his own piece of pie to his boy does not change the situation. The mother did not refuse the lad’s request from a desire to economize by saving a piece of pie, but from the desire to train him to habits of self-control and Christian moderation.

A MUTUAL UNDERSTANDING

Instances of this kind that call for co-operative action on the part of the parents are of almost daily occurrence in families where there are children. Being pleasure-loving like all human beings and as yet too young and inexperienced to value the merits of self-abnegation and restraint, children are everlastingly begging to have this or that, to go here or there, to be permitted to enjoy this or that diversion or amusement. And not only young children present this domestic problem; the problem persists as long as the children are subject to the authority of their parents, and often calls for the most cautious handling when the growing boys and girls have become adolescent sons and daughters. In every stage of the problem, the only proper policy for the parents to adopt is to present a united front wherever the children are concerned. There must be a distinct mutual understanding that one will support the other, and that all important permissions granted to the children by one parent are dependent on the consent of the other. “We will see what mother thinks about it”; “Did mother say you might?”; “I must first talk it over with father” are standing replies which parents will ever have ready if they are bent on promoting the welfare of their children and maintaining harmony in their home.

STRENGTHENING MUTUAL LOVE

By thus upholding each other’s authority in the presence of the children, father and mother not only increase their children’s respect for their parents and each other’s influence with the children, but also knit still more firmly the bond of mutual love that makes husband and wife one moral personage. For each single reference to the other’s authority is a gracious acknowledgment of the other’s equal rights and responsibility in the marriage partnership, and a tacit renewal of the wedding day agreement to live as two souls with but a single thought.

Nor will it suffice for the one parent to uphold the other in word while at the same time making no secret from the children that he or she would much rather side with them. It would be hardly less harmful, for example, than open hostility for the father to say: “I”m awfully sorry; but you know how mother is. It’s useless for me to say “Yes” when she says “No”.”

THE CHIEF DISCIPLINARIAN

Right from the beginning, therefore, there should be an agreement between the parents on all important questions that concern the management and education of the children. And when new problems arise, or when the parents disagree as to how best to apply their principles to certain practical cases they should discuss the matter out of hearing of the children; and only after coming to an agreement should they inform the children what they have to do. Usually the regulation of most disciplinary matters pertaining to the domestic circle is best left to the mother. She is with the children much more than the father and is less likely to yield to their ill-advised pleadings from selfish motives. The father, returning home from a day’s work, is often just as much in a mood to enjoy his children as they are eager to enjoy him; and, unless he is guided by the mother’s wishes and rules of discipline for the children, he is very apt, from sheer paternal affability, to undo all the mother’s efforts in training the children, make her feel bad, and perhaps even discourage her efforts in the future. For that reason, before conceding the youngsters any privileges on his return home, he should inquire of their mother how they behaved themselves during the day; whether a ride or walk in a park or some other treat would be in order; and the like.

For father and mother always to take each other into consideration, always to stand together like the two pillars of an arch, is to make family life infinitely more agreeable, to share equally its burdens and responsibilities, and in truly constructive fashion to further the training of their children. But if the parents disagree and the children become aware, as they soon will, that they can cajole the one parent into siding with them against the other, then parental authority will be sadly weakened, and domestic harmony will soon give way to a state of tension, then to ill-concealed dissension, and at last to open strife.

THE HEAD OF THE FAMILY

In case the parents cannot come to an agreement in private on a particular question, then it is the duty of the wife to submit to her husband, so long as no violation of moral or religious duty is involved; for St. Paul says: “Let women be subject to their husbands as to the Lord; because the husband is the head of the wife, as Christ is the head of the Church” (Eph. 5, 22). Oftentimes, however, it would be wiser for the husband to yield to the wishes of his wife when there is no principle at stake; and better still perhaps, if the matter does not call for immediate settlement, to seek the advice of the pastor or of some other God-fearing and experienced friend.

MAIN CAUSE OF DISHARMONY

The other kind of disharmony that calls for a special warning is disharmony or the lack of unity in religion. It is easy to understand how many of the difficulties of maintaining harmony in the home are removed or lessened, when husband and wife are united by the profession and practice of the true Faith. And by the same token it should be easy to understand that, apart from serious character defects or moral lapses in one of the parents, there is no more frequent cause of dissension and discord in the home than the lack of unity in religion. Yet many Catholics fail to realize this fact, and in consequence make the attempt, which nine times out of ten is doomed to failure, of rearing the stalwart structure of a truly Catholic home on the cleft foundation of a mixed marriage.

A LAWYER’S SAD EXPERIENCE

The following quotation from a letter published in “Our Sunday Visitor” gives the experience with mixed marriages of just one single lawyer; but it will no doubt open the eyes of many of my Catholic readers.

“As an active practicing lawyer in Chicago, handling divorce cases along with my general practice I have had considerable opportunity to make investigation as to the causes of domestic strife leading to divorce among Catholic clients where either party married a non-Catholic; and I am now forced to inquire of you what is being done, if anything, to prevent mixed marriages by Catholic men and Catholic women.

“I ask this question only after having handled approximately five hundred divorce cases and cases involving annulment and separate maintenance, wherein one of the parties was of the Catholic Faith; and wherein I have found that this difference in religious belief was fundamentally the cause of almost all of the discontent, sorrow, and trouble which led to divorce or separation; and that in ninety percent of the mixed marriage cases, the Catholic was confronted with the question of abstaining from receiving the sacraments and living with the spouse, or of separation, in order to be able to follow the teachings of our Faith on the matter of marriage duties and obligations.”

A BASIC DISAGREEMENT

But why does a mixed marriage almost inevitably sow the seed of discord in the home? Because the Catholic party accepts and is obliged to accept the teachings of the Church as the only true standard of moral and religious conduct in every phase of life; whereas the non-Catholic party does not accept that standard. From the very outset, then, there is a basic disagreement concerning the most important thing in life. From the very ground up there is a breach between husband and wife, which no unity of sentiment in other things will ever be able to fill. For, no matter how kind, how considerate, how loving, how free from prejudice, how magnanimous the non-Catholic partner may be, the Catholic spouse that has a truly Catholic mind must forever realize most keenly that, so long as the religious barrier exists, there can be no complete understanding of each other, no full and perfect sympathy; because the things that mean most and are most conducive to happiness for the one mean little or nothing in the life of the other.

COMPLETE HARMONY

How much more intimate the union between husband and wife who share the same religious convictions! Arm in arm they go to church; side by side they assist at Mass; and together they seek the consolation of Confession and the spiritual nourishment of Holy Communion. In their attitude towards the question of having children, in the choice of a school, in the questions regarding prayer in the home, Catholic reading, courtship and marriage, religious vocation, and many similar matters, the Catholic couple are in complete accord, because these questions are all decided for them in advance by the teachings of Holy Mother Church.

INNUMERABLE DISSENSIONS

What a rift on the other hand in the life of a couple who do not share the same Faith! What one cherishes and esteems, the other perhaps abhors. What one looks upon as an act of virtue or even as a most solemn duty, the other may despise as silly superstition or a mere idle ceremony. Supposing the mother to be the Catholic party to the marriage, which is the more common case, how keenly will she not feel the lack of religious harmony if her husband insists on unnatural limitation of the family; if he objects to having their children baptized by a Catholic priest; if he insists that three or four years” training in a Catholic school is enough to fulfill his promise to have his children brought up Catholic; if he refuses all money for Catholic books, papers and periodicals; if he objects to all display (as he terms it) of religion by means of Crucifixes, pictures of the saints, or other religious articles in the home; if he discourages prayer at meals and all family devotions; if he protests against sending the children to Mass when the weather is the least bit inclement or disagreeable, or against sending them from home without breakfast when they wish to receive Communion; if he scolds about his sleep being disturbed or having to get his own breakfast when his wife goes to early Mass; if he demands meat at all meals on Fridays and all days of abstinence; if he encourages as broadening, the association of his boys and girls with the children of his own Protestant or even irreligious relatives and friends; if he refuses to call the priest or even denies him admission into the house when some member of the family is seriously ill; if-to put an end to the list-he does any of the thousand and one different things like these that other non-Catholic husbands of Catholic wives have done in the past and are still doing to-day. For these are not purely imaginary cases such as everyone must admit might happen. They are actual cases drawn from stories of mixed marriages in real life.

THE PRE-NUPTIAL PLEDGE

But some young lady who is contemplating a mixed marriage may say, on reading the foregoing paragraph, that she would make adequate provision against all such possible evil consequences by demanding a solemn promise of her future husband never to interfere with her or her children’s practice of religion. In doing that, she would be doing only what thousands of Catholic girls have done before; for the Church requires such a promise as an indispensable condition every time she tolerates a mixed marriage. But it is notorious how lightly these pre-nuptial pledges are broken, and how sadly these thousands of Catholic wives of non-Catholic husbands have been disillusioned when the time came for the promises to be redeemed. To make a promise and to keep it are two quite different things. In many cases, too, the non-Catholic party never had any intention of keeping his promise; or, if he did, he maintained afterwards that changed circumstances gave him the right to change his mind. So it may very easily happen that not many moons have passed since the honeymoon before the wife finds obstacles placed in the way of the performance of so simple and fundamental a duty as the hearing of Mass on Sunday. And even should the wife be gifted with such exceptional strength of character and devotion to her Faith as to practice her religion in defiance of her husband, what would become of domestic harmony?

CHILDREN OF MIXED MARRIAGES

Yet even more deplorable than its effects upon domestic harmony will be the effects of a mixed marriage on the education of the children. As set forth in the first chapter of this book, the religious education of the child should begin in earliest childhood, even in infancy, by surrounding the impressionable young heart with an atmosphere of religion and instilling into its daily expanding intelligence the idea that nothing in this world matters so much as the love and service of its God and Creator. But how can a uniform and lasting impression of this kind be made on the child, when its father and mother, whose combined actions create the atmosphere of the home, are not in agreement on the importance of religion? Certainly, if the mother is not a Catholic, the child will stand little chance of receiving any religious education before it is sent to school. But evenif the mother is a Catholic, the child’s religious training will be onesided; because it will lack the support of the father’s good example.

EXCEPTIONS ARE FEW

Some mixed marriages, it is true, do turn out well, apparently, despite the initial handicap to religion and domestic harmony that ordinarily attends them. But it must be admitted that those are exceptions. The preponderating testimony of experience is against mixed marriages as the cause of loss of interest in religion or of complete loss of Faith on the part of the Catholic consort or of the children.

SOMETHING OFTEN OVERLOOKED

But there is still another objection to mixed marriages, the explanation of which will, I trust, make my unmarried readers still more determined never to contract a marriage that would introduce disharmony into their future homes. Very many Catholics, I dare say the great majority of them, are of the opinion that a Catholic is forbidden to marry a non-Catholic in much the same fashion as he is forbidden to eat meat on Fridays, namely, merely by a positive law of the Church; and that the only practical difference between a Catholic marriage and a mixed marriage lies in the fact that the latter may not be celebrated in church nor without a dispensation. That idea is entirely wrong. The eating of meat is not wrong in itself, and the Church has never condemned the eating of meat; but she condemns mixed marriages and abhors them not only as dangerous to the Faith of the Catholic party and the children, but also because entering into such a marriage involves the participation by a Catholic and a non-Catholic in the same sacred rite.

This is a point that many Catholics do not know or entirely overlook. They know quite well that they are not allowed to take an active part in a Protestant religious service; and that to assist as bridesmaid or groomsman at a Protestantwedding is forbidden under mortal sin. Yet the degree of a bridesmaid’s participation in a wedding is small compared with that of the bride herself; because, for a Catholic, marriage is a sacrament, and the bride and groom actually administer the sacramentof Matrimony to each other, the priest being only the Church’s official witness. It is this intimate commingling in a religious rite by a Catholic with a heretic which is the reason why the Church does not permit a mixed marriage, except for a grave reason, even if it were certain that this or that particular mixed marriage involved no danger to the Faith of the Catholic partner or of the children.

COMMUNICATION WITH A HERETIC

It will give the reader a better idea of how the Church detests the active participation of her children in a sacramental rite with a heretic, if we observe how she legislates regarding it in other cases. Such a communication with a heretic occurs also when a Catholic receives sacramental absolution or Holy Communion from a validly ordained but heretical priest; and so averse is Mother Church to such an act that only in danger of death does she permit a Catholic to request absolution and to receive Holy Communion at the hands of such a priest. It is evident, therefore, that there must be a grave reason for permitting any religious communication of that kind with a heretic; and that holds also for participation with a heretic in the Sacrament of Matrimony.

PERMITTED ONLY FOR A GRAVE REASON

This is another point that is commonly overlooked or not understood. A Catholic must have a grave reason for entering a marriage with a non-Catholic and a dispensation for such a marriage may be granted only for a grave reason. It is not enough that the couple want to get married and are willing to sign the pre-nuptial pledges. By no means. The first requisite is that there must be some weighty reason for permitting an exception to the general law of the Church forbidding mixed marriages. Only when serious ground for making such an exception exists, may a dispensation be granted,-and even then only on the further condition that the usual promises regarding the practice of religion be given in writing.

THE CHURCH NOT TOO SEVERE

From the foregoing explanation, it should be abundantly clear to any Catholic that the Church is by no means unreasonable or too severe in her opposition to mixed marriages. To adopt any other attitude would be for her to underrate the sanctity of Christian matrimony, which Christ raised to the dignity of a sacrament, and to underestimate the preciousness of the Faith, which it is her duty to preserve and propagate. And as all those who are so fortunate as to be blessed with the priceless gift of the true Faith are obliged to take the same attitude as the Church on all questions of Faith and morals, the attitude of the Church towards mixed marriages must be the attitude also of all her loyal children.

NO LOFTY IDEALISM

It follows, therefore, that in asking you, dear reader, to accept the Church’s position on mixed marriages as your own, I am not making an appeal for anything extraordinary or heroic. There is no lofty idealism, far beyond the reach of ordinary mortals, in taking such a stand. It is nothing but plain Catholicism. Any other attitude is unchristian and opposed to the teaching of our holy Faith. That a Catholic should woo and wed only a Catholic is not a sublime ideal, which the Church expects to see realized only in her most perfect children. The marriage of a Catholic with a Catholic is the general rule for all, the only truly Catholic union; the only union the Church positively sanctions and approves.

Every other conjugal union that a Catholic enters into, no matter how securely braced with excuses, cautions, and dispensations, is at best only tolerated,-tolerated as a lesser evil, either to right some wrong already done or to avert some impending greater evil.

THE CHIEF OCCASION OF MIXED MARRIAGES

I trust that every young man and every young woman who reads what I have here written, will be so deeply impressed by the undesirableness of mixed marriages as to resolve not only never to contract a mixed marriage but also to avoid the chief occasion that leads to such a marriage; namely, the companionship of non-Catholics. To mingle freely in a social way with non-Catholics and to say that one is earnestly determined never to marry a non-Catholic is like paddling down the rapids of Niagara with the determination not to strike a rock. The Catholic youth or maiden, therefore, that is in earnest about avoiding a mixed marriage will make no dates with a non-Catholic and accept no invitations to non-Catholic social affairs.

FALLING IN LOVE NOT INEVITABLE

But what if a Catholic falls in love with a non-Catholic? A Catholic should not fall in love with a non-Catholic! There are persons, it is true, who maintain that falling in love is something that simply happens and is entirely beyond a person’s control; but such an idea of love is opposed to reason and to common sense. Human love is not merely a passion that bursts forth spontaneously upon the perception of a suitable object. It is also a voluntary activity of the will; and hence it is subject to the control of the will, which can check and even extinguish a passion for a person whom one’s reason declares to be an undesirable or even impossible partner in marriage the poor hired man from falling in love with the daughter of his rich master? Is it not the consideration of the impossibility of a marriage that prevents many a one (not all, alas!)from falling in love with a person already married or bound by the vow of virginity or celibacy? Why, then, should the consideration of the evils of a mixed marriage not suffice with the grace of God to prevent a Catholic from falling in love with a non-Catholic? No, even though the human heart is a strange and willful creature, it is not so intractable that, with due precautions, it cannot be restrained from desiring forbidden fruit. Hence the Catholic boy or girl who starts out with the correct Catholic attitude that mixed marriages are forbidden fruit, and who does not court danger by mixing socially with non-Catholics, will keep from falling in love with a non-Catholic without extraordinary difficulty.

CONVERSION OF THE NON-CATHOLIC PARTNER

And now a word also to those of my readers who have contracted a mixed marriage and who are still living with a non-Catholic partner. No matter how unpleasant the reading of this chapter may have been for you, you must not be disheartened. You cannot, it is true, alter the past; but you can do a great deal to mend matters for the future. Whether your marriage has been one of those exceptional ones that have turned out well despite the lack of harmony in religion; or whether it has further corroborated the wisdom of the Church in condemning such unions, your duty is the same: you must endeavor to bring about the conversion of your partner to the true Faith. It was with the understanding that you would fulfill this duty that the dispensation for your marriage was granted. But even if Canon Law did not stress this obligation, you should nevertheless be solicitous for your Consort’s conversion for his, or her, own sake, no less than for the sake of religious harmony in the home.

PRAYER ALONE NOT SUFFICIENT

But how can this most desired event be brought about? By earnest and persevering prayer; by the constant force of your own good example; by occasional invitations to read Catholic literature and to attend Catholic services and sermons; and-not to be forgotten!-also by prudently intimating, on opportune occasions, your own great desire that your non-Catholic partner embrace the true Faith. You must not expect Almighty God to do everything. In dispensing His graces and especially the blessing of the true Faith, He makes use also of human means and human agents. And the most natural as well as the most suitable agent He could employ to convert your partner in marriage is yourself. Why, then, this timid reticence on the subject of religion? If you persist in depending exclusively on prayer, you may be held responsible for your consort’s long delayed conversion and for his or her loss of innumerable priceless graces. Such was the woman who on the day ofher husband’s conversion exclaimed to him: “This is the happiest day of my life. I have been longing and praying for this day for many years.” To which her husband replied: “That is strange. Then why did you never intimate to me that you longed for me to become a Catholic?”

ENTHRONEMENT OF THE SACRED HEART

Among the supernatural means of obtaining the conversion of a wife or husband, one that I would recommend most strongly is devotion to the Sacred Heart of Jesus; and in particular that form of this devotion known as the Enthronement of the Sacred Heart in the home. This consists in setting up an image of the Sacred Heart with appropriate solemnities in the home, and in consecrating the family to the Sacred Heart in permanent recognition of His Kingship over the home. The fruits of the Enthronement have been simply marvelous in all parts of the world. Men who had never gone to Confession in their lives, high-degree Freemasons, have humbly made their Confession after the Enthronement had been performed in their home at the request of a wife or daughter.

To all, therefore, whose home life is marred by the lack of unity in religion or by any other kind of disharmony, as well as to those who wish to preserve the harmony that has hitherto prevailed, I say: Invite a priest to perform the act of Enthronement in your home. Consecrate your family to the Sacred Heart of Jesus. Renew that consecration from time to time, especially on the first Friday of each month; and in the spirit of that consecration regard the Sacred Heart as the King and intimate Friend of your family. Make Him the confidant of your joys as well as of your sorrows, your failures as well as your successes. Let Him be your support in trial, your comfort in sorrow, your refuge in distress. Let His principles govern your family life as well as your private and public life; and then you, too, most assuredly, will realize the truth of those loving promises which the Sacred Heart of Jesus revealed to St. Margaret Mary Alacoque:

“I will bless the houses wherein the image of my Heart shall be exposed and honored.

“I will give peace to their families

“I will give them all the graces necessary for their state.

“I will shed abundant blessings on all their undertakings.

“I will comfort them in all their trials.”

CHAPTER VI: NECESSITY OF HOME LIFE

THE enemies of religion and in particular of the Catholic Church often maintain that the Church has failed in her mission to make men virtuous, because even among Catholics there are many that lead immoral lives. And some go even so far as to see in this a proof that religion is incapable of making men moral. The fallacy of such reasoning lies, of course, in ascribing to religion those moral failures who disregard her precepts and who neglect to use the means of practicing virtue that she enjoins. The same fallacious reasoning is used in regard to the home. The home has failed, it is said, to take care of its members during their leisure hours; it does not offer recreational facilities enough, especially for young people. And as our young people will seek diversion and amusement in improper places if we do not provide wholesome entertainment for them, we must have Catholic clubs and social centers where they can recreate themselves in a harmless manner.

A MATTER OF TRAINING

Those of our social workers and sociologists who reason thus evidently overlook the fact that there is an endless variety of not only innocent but also beneficial amusements that may be had in the home; and furthermore that it is just as possible, by proper and timely education, to educate people to seek their recreation mainly at home, because of the priceless advantages that home life offers, as it is to induce them to patronize Catholic community centers in preference to the more alluring public places of amusement.

Such, then, is the purpose of this chapter-to ripen the conviction in the reader that home life should be cultivated on principle by every member of the family; since home life is an indispensable means of obtaining in full measure the blessings of religion in the home and the true happiness and welfare of the entire family.

I. A PLAIN DUTY

In every perfect society, it is the duty of the members to further the purpose of the society. Now the family is a perfect society, whose object is to promote the temporal and above all the eternal welfare of its members. Hence it is the duty of each member of the family to do his share towards the attainment of that end, even at the cost of some sacrifice or of some inconvenience to himself. No member of the family has a right to shirk his duty toward the rest. No member of the family stands alone and is simply free to live his own life without any regard for the others. But the proper fulfillment of each one’s respective duty towards the other members of the family necessarily demands the spending of a certain amount of time at home in the family circle.

THE PARENTS’ PART

Upon the father, as head of the family, naturally devolves the first duty of fostering home life by his example as well as by providing reasonable recreational facilities, and, if need be, also by using his authority to prevent unreasonable or excessive gadding abroad. Yet, though the father has the greater authority to safeguard home life, the mother, as the mistress of the home, has the greater opportunities; and hers, therefore, should also be the chief care in fostering a deep-seated love of the home and binding all members of the family by invisible ties to the paternal hearth. Indeed, the mother is the real center of attraction, the very heart of the Christian home. Because the care of the children and the superintending, if not always the actual performance, of the household tasks requires her presence, the home is the mother’s natural abode, and, with but rare exceptions, her ordinary sphere of action.

A MOTHER’S FIRST CARE

It is true, the practice of many women and mothers of our day seems to indicate that women have a much wider field of action than that circumscribed by the limits of the household. Yet that does not alter the fact that woman’s natural place is the home, and that, ordinarily, she should not engage in any work, not even of a social or political nature, incompatible with the performance of her duties to her family. (See Pope Pius XI”s quote on Mothers Who Work Away from Home.) As the great Jesuit authority on moral philosophy, Victor Cathrein, says: “To give her children a good education and to maintain a well regulated household, must always be woman’s first care.” And lest it be thought that this is an outworn doctrine that must be rejected because of changed conditions, and that woman must needs adapt herself to the times, he continues: “Far from estranging her more and more from this mission, as it must be regretted has hitherto been done in consequence of modern industry and modern ideas, one should aim to regain for her in its entirety the place that she occupied in former times. The foundation of domestic happiness is a virtuous, pious, diligent woman, who loves order, and who possesses the gift of making her husband attached to his family and of educating her children to be good citizens and good Christians” (“Moral Philosophy,” Book II, p. 384–5).

EXCEPTIONAL CASES

It cannot be denied that there may be circumstances in which individual women may very properly widen the field of their activities, either for their own advantage, the advancement of women’s interests, or for the welfare of the public in general. But these will be, for the most part, women without families, or such whose children no longer need a mother’s care; and with women thus circumstanced I am not here concerned.

But if woman’s chief concern is the proper education of her children and the care of domestic affairs her presence in the home is indispensable. Or how can a mother fulfill her sacred duties towards her young children if she is rarely with them? If she is frequently absent from home or if she leaves the children almost entirely in the care of a nurse or maid, how can she guide their childish steps aright, mould their tender hearts to virtue, and administer the necessary admonitions, reproofs, and punishment? For the words of Holy Writ are still as true as they were of old: “The rod and reproof give wisdom, but the child that is left to his own will bringeth his mother to shame” (Prov. 29, 15).

BIG BROTHERS AND SISTERS

In as far, too, as the assistance of the older children may be helpful or necessary in the care of domestic affairs, the mother not only may but should require it. The training of the children is indeed the mother’s duty; but just because it is her duty, she has the right to demand the assistance of the elder children in order that that duty may be properly performed. She has the right to demand that they remain at home to help her take care of the younger children, to aid them with their tasks, or merely to keep them company and entertain them so that they will be content to remain at home. Why is it that sometimes even the very young children are anxious to get away from home, except that most of the other members of the family are out and the children are deprived of the companionship they crave? It is above all at nighttime, and in particular for the adolescent boys and girls, that the home is truly a haven of safety to shield them at least for a time from the dangers of the outside world; and parents may become guilty of grievous sin, if they are grossly negligent in keeping their children at home at night to shield them from evil companions and other occasions of sin.

But even for the elder children, home life is a necessity for the proper development and safeguarding of their spiritual life; and this all the more if they are old enough to be obliged to work and are in consequence exposed to the evil influences of the outside world. Or, indeed, how can they benefit by the practice of family prayer, if they do not take regularly even one meal a day with the entire family when grace is said in common, and if they are never at home in the evening to join in the recitation of the litany or rosary? How will they devote any time to Catholic reading, and how can they be beneficially affected by the Catholic atmosphere of the home, if almost the only time they spend there is spent in bed?

WEAKENING THE FAMILY CIRCLE

But the frequent absence of the elder children from the family circle not only deprives them of the benefits of family prayer, good reading, and a Catholic atmosphere, but deprives also the other members of the family of the benefit of their company and their good example. By absenting themselves from home, they weaken the family circle and make it harder for the rest to profit by the advantages of the Catholic home. If the older children would stay at home, it would be easier for the rest to stay and devote a little time to family prayer and Catholic reading. Their very presence, their interest, and their example would make home life more agreeable, and all would become more and more permeated with the wholesome influence of a Catholic atmosphere. But if one brother or sister goes out, another will want to go, too; if the elder brothers and sisters are gone, the children will not wish to remain at home; and thus the family is broken up and instead of a place to live in the home becomes merely a lodging and boarding house-a place where one sleeps and perhaps takes one or the other meal.

MODERN CONDITIONS NO EXCUSE

No matter how common this state of things is at present or how well satisfied people may be with it, it is greatly to be deplored; and parents as well as children should do their utmost to restore the home life of the family to its pristine and normal condition. Every member of the family should be prompted to foster home life for his own advantage, because it is for his own good to spend the greater part of his time at home. He should be further impelled by regard for his brothers and sisters, whom he is bound to love more than others not so closely related, and whom he should be willing to help by his company and good example. And lastly he should be induced by love and gratitude towards his parents, when they desire him to remain at home; and even by obedience, if they direct him to stay at home to take care of the children, to help them with their tasks, or merely to entertain them.

The parents themselves are in duty bound to foster home life, because it is an almost indispensable means for the proper Catholic rearing of their children. It is the presence of the parents, and especially of the mother; it is their example, their authority, their interest, and above all their love that must knit the family together, ward off the dangers that threaten it from without, breathe into it the true Catholic mind and Christian spirit, and guide it to its eternal destiny.

IT IS THE HOME THAT COUNTS

This old-fashioned doctrine has recently found champions in unexpected quarters-the camp of the psychiatrists- as may be seen from an article entitled “Home Still in Fashion,” in “The Literary Digest” for October 10, 1931. Commenting on an address to 2000 school principals in New York by Dr. Leon W. Goldrich, director of New York City’s newly established Bureau of Child Guidance of the Board of Education, the New York Times says that it has been demonstrated that any home, even one of contention and unkindness, is better for the child than no home at all. “It is a doctrine which until recently demanded exceptional courage to maintain. An age devoted to self-expression and freedom preferred to think of the harm done by taboos and fixations, and to overlook the good done by fathers who provided food and shelter and mothers who provided care.” We are now emerging from this revolt against the home, continues The Times. “People are beginning to say generally in print what the social workers and the officials of the juvenile courts have been saying all the time. . . . It is the home that counts. Scientists are beginning to emphasize the importance of loving care-the very thing recently abominated as the source of so many complexes.”

It is almost needless to say thatI do not advocate spending all one’s leisure time at home, nor maintain that one must never go away except for very urgent reasons. There may even be homes in which the moral conditions are so bad that it would be more advisable to spend the majority of one’s evenings away from home. But apart from such very exceptional cases, one may safely say that home life is not fostered as it should be by those persons who, without sufficient excuse, spend the majority of their evenings away from home.

III. THE CAUSES OF THE TROUBLE

If people are to be interested in the great social work of making the home circle flourish once more, it is necessary for them to understand the causes of its disruption. One of these, the expansion of industry, has already been alluded to; but as the purpose of this book is to bring about an improvement of the Christian home even before the reform of our present industrial system may be hoped for, it will be more to the purpose to expatiate on other causes; and chief among these, without doubt, is the inordinate quest of earthly pleasure.

JOY VERSUS PLEASURE

In that charming little book, “More Joy,” by Bishop Paul Wilhelm Keppler, the author points out the important distinction between joy and pleasure. There are too many pleasures, he says, and too little joy. Which is only another way of saying that too many people seek happiness in things that are not conducive to true happiness; and consequently, though they give themselves up to amusements, to the enjoyment of sensual pleasures, they do not find true joy but merely a temporary forgetfulness of life’s burdens and sorrows. True joy consists in contentment, in peace of heart, in the testimony of a good conscience, in the control of one’s animal instincts by reason, in the subjection of the passions. Man being a rational and moral being, albeit an animal, cannot find real joy in pleasures that conflict with reason and the moral law. And that is why those people are most joyous who are content, for the most part, to find the needed recreation in the simpler joys of the family circle. For these joys are consistent with a good conscience, whereas the pleasures that are the usual offering of public places of amusement can frequently not be indulged in without either searing one’s conscience or at least exposing oneself to grave moral danger.

THE LURE OF THE GANG

If I should be asked to state in particular what pleasures tempt different members of the family to spend their evenings away from home, I should say that in the case of young men, andespecially those still in their “teens,” it is mainly the pleasures found in the company of the “gang.” By the gang I do not mean a number of boys who are usually found together in their outings, nor the boys of a neighborhood who are regular playmates in their daily games. Such gangs hardly interfere with, and oftentimes practically coalesce with the family circle. No, the gang that seems to me to be a menace to home life and to the proper training of young men, is a group of boys who usually spend every evening and the entire evening together at some place away from their homes; and I do not hesitate to call the desire of a boy always to be with “the gang” an inordinate desire for pleasure and a dangerous occasion of sin. For what is the chief attraction of such company? The absence of all restraint. They want to be alone with youths of their own age, unobserved by their parents or teachers. They want to enjoy liberty, independence; and this liberty consists in freedom from all restraint-from the restraint of cultured society, the restraint of politeness, the restraint of gentlemanly deportment, the restraint often even of Christian virtue and common decency.

BAD INFLUENCE OF THE GANG

But freedom from such restraint cannot but have evil consequences for undeveloped characters, as experience proves only too well. Where is it that vulgar words and expressions are most commonly heard? In the company of the gang. Where is it that indelicate stories are unblushingly told? In the company of the gang. Where is it that obscene hints are given, suggestive remarks made, improper songs sung? Where is it that gambling is learnt, drinking taught, disobedience, untruthfulness and dishonesty towards parents and teachers approved and applauded? In the company of the gang. It is the almost uninterrupted daily association with such company in such circumstances that roughens the character and degrades the morals of our young men. And the most natural and most effective means of withdrawing them, at least to a great extent, from the debasing influence of such company, is to have them spend the majority of their evenings at home in the company of their mothers and sisters. The naturally more gentle and more refined nature and manners of mothers and sisters are a splendid means of leavening, of tempering, and of toning down the coarser and wilder nature of the young man and the growing boy. And happy the boy and the young man who submits to the influence of such companionship! That companionship, coupled with the entire influence of a good Christian home, will go far towards saving him from the evils of the “gang.”

GIRLS’ SETS AND PARENTS’ CLUBS

No less disastrous than the gang in disrupting the family circle is the girls” set as well as father’s and mother’s clubs. The objections to be made against the girls” set, unless its gatherings are far less frequent and properly chaperoned. are the same as those I have made against the boys” gang. It opens the door to unrestrained liberty and contempt of time-honored conventions for which the less respectable element among our modern young womanhood is so justly condemned. As to the clubs to which the parents and especially the mothers belong, nothing craves more wary walking than these. Many a child is a stranger to parental care and to all the blessings of home life because of its mother’s insane devotion to her club, or to what she dignifies by the name of “social duties.” There are wives and mothers who imagine themselves bound to be busy almost everywhere except in their own homes. One afternoon or evening they must be at their club; another afternoon, at a card party; another day, they must attend an afternoon tea or a lecture; and still another day, a reading or sewing circle. And thus, what with their social calls and social duties, they are mostly absent from their homes and their own children are neglected.

CHARITY BEGINS AT HOME

If such mothers would only devote themselves conscientiously to the God-given task of bringing up and training their own children instead of attending, or even giving, lectures on the uplift of society, society would be in a far better way than it is at present. It may be that some of these women are at heart well-meaning and sincere, and that, blinded by the glamour of altruistic activities, they do not realize their mistake. But the truth of the matter is that the performance of welfare work is often an excuse for neglecting the more confining and more tedious household duties. No matter how good and praiseworthy it is to practice the corporal and spiritual works of mercy, our Lord certainly would not countenance a woman’s practicing them to the neglect of her own family. A woman’s first social duty is to her own family. Let that duty be properly attended to first, and then she may think of extending her charitable activities abroad. Charity should begin at home.

VALUE OF “MONIES” OVERESTIMATED

A second attraction that draws not only the young men and the young women, but even their younger brothers and sisters away from the home at night, is the theatre, and especially the moving picture theatre. A great deal may be said in favor of the “movie,” not only on account of its recreational but also on account of its educational value; yet it is my opinion that this value is greatly overrated, and that, as far as children are concerned, whatever amount of education may be obtained by attendance at moving pictures can be equally well obtained by other means. In other words, I firmly believe that a child that never attended a “movie” can, and in most cases will be, just as well educated as one that attended “movies.” It would be possible to show that whatever good is accomplished by the “movies” (and I am speaking only of the good ones), is discounted by the harm that they indirectly do even to the cause of education. But as I am speaking now of the “movie” only in its relation to the home, I wish to emphasize here merely this harmful result of attendance at the “movies,” that it withdraws the members of the family from the sanctuary of the home, and by developingthe “movie” habit, makes it impossible for them properly to share in the beneficial influence of Christian home life. In view of the fact that children lose nothing worth while by rarely attending moving pictures, and that frequent attendance almost inevitably withdraws them from one of the best of all educational influences, that of a good Catholic home life, it is hard to understand how thoughtful parents can be so imprudent as to take their young children regularly to such amusements even before the latter are old enough to attend school. But such parents usually reap the fruit of their folly. If children become accustomed from early childhood to frequent public places of amusement, it is not surprising that in their adolescence they can hardly be restrained from roaming about at night.

EXCESSIVE JOY-RIDING

The third great enemy, and no doubt the greatest enemy, of home life in our day is the automobile. As long as practically the whole family goes riding, and as long as the outings are not too frequent, there is no objection to this means of recreation, in particular for those families who are thereby enabled to benefit by the advantages of a more healthy atmosphere and a more agreeable environment. Yet it cannot be denied that the thing is overdone. In many families the car is in constant use. The children want to be out at every possible opportunity, and the far more valuable means of recreation to be had at home are neglected. In other families the car is used in turn by different members of the family. One evening it is one of the boys who has it; another evening, one, or perhaps two, of the girls; a third evening the parents, and thus the family circle is always incomplete and it is impossible to enjoy the benefits of real home life. It is imperative, therefore, that parents who aim to promote the true welfare and happiness of their children put a stop to this excessive automobile-riding.

A SNARE TO VIRTUE

Though I am speaking here of the automobile only in as far as its use affects home life, it may be useful to add a word of warning to parents against permitting their son or daughter to go riding unchaperoned with a companion of the opposite sex. Not only Catholic priests but also non-Catholic judges and social workers deplore such rides as the occasion of the moral downfall of countless young men and young women. If the boy and girl are honorable and sensible, they will welcome a third person to their party both as a means of warding off suspicion and as a guardian of their virtue. And in order that their adolescent boys and girls may take this sensible view of the matter, parents should instruct and train them betimes to follow Christian and not pagan standards of propriety in their relations with persons of the opposite sex. unless they do this, their children will almost inevitably take their cue from what they read in secular papers, from what they see on stage and screen, and from what they witness in actual life; and this to their own great moral detriment, to the disedification of their acquaintances, and oftentimes to the tragic grief of the very parents who refused to be so oldfashioned as to curb their children’s liberty.

III. HOMES MUST BE MADE ATTRACTIVE

What a world of evils would disappear at one happy stroke, and what a world of good would be accomplished, if people would only stay at home and be occupied in the family circle! The great question is, then, how shall we induce people to stay at home? If it is the desire for amusement, for recreation, for companionship, that leads them abroad, how shall this desire, which is certainly legitimate, be satisfied at home? In advocating home life, nothing is farther from my thoughts than thedesire to deprive anyone of legitimate pleasure. Indeed, to put more real joy into men’s lives, while at the same time furthering their spiritual interests, is the very purpose and object of this book. If I thought that it would not help to achieve this purpose, I would cast it into the fire.

CLEANLINESS THE FIRST REQUISITE

By all means, then, the home must be made attractive. The attractions that lure one elsewhere must be offset by counter attractions in the home. The strongest tie that binds one to one’s home is love of home-a quality that can be developed just the same as the habit of frequenting public amusements is developed. Therefore, the first requisite for attracting one to one’s home is that the home the abode itself, be pleasant and inviting. Even the humblest home can meet this requirement, at least in the interior; for poverty does not imply squalor slovenliness or disorder. Let only cleanliness prevail, let only the rule be observed, “A place for everything, and everything in its place,” and the resultant neatness and tidiness will lend a simple dignity and attractiveness to even the poorest interior. It is by no means always the luxurious or palatial homes that are the most charming. Coziness, like hospitality, is more often found in the workingman’s bungalow than in the rich man’s palace. One cannot imagine the Holy Family of Nazareth living in a splendid home. They were poor, and their abode undoubtedly reflected their poverty. Yet, however scanty their resources and however stinted their use of earthly goods, one cannot but believe that their home was a model of cleanliness, orderliness, and good taste. For cleanliness is not only next to godliness, as the proverb says, but actually pertains to godliness when practiced from supernatural motives, as it certainly was by the Holy Family; and as it easily can be by anyone when practiced for sweet charity’s sake. If God will reward a drink of cold water given in His name, and will regard what we do to the least of His brethren as done to Himself; then surely He will look with approval on the pains we take to make our home attractive to those with whom He wishes us to share it.

OWNERSHIP OF ONE’S HOME

It will be readily understood that the married couple that owns its home will be more likely to be attached to it and more inclined to make it attractive. For this reason all young couples should endeavor to own a home of their own as soon as possible. The very fact that their dwelling place is their own will give them a feeling of security and independence that they can never have in a rented home. And when they own the soil beneath their feet; when they need consult no landlord on making improvements; when they have no fear of being forced by the sale of their home to seek another dwelling place, their love for their home will strike firmer roots and quite naturally give birth to the desire to make it harmonize ever more and more with the home of their dreams. Ownership of one’s home, too, is the best guarantee against a life spent in restless and ill-advised wandering from place to place. In fine, it is the only surety one can have of enjoying the blessings of a fixed abode, chief among which are a firm anchorage amid the vicissitudes of life, a circle of true and tried friends, lifelong associations, and that peculiar charm which in all civilized nations is associated with the word home. Like the lowly cottage overgrown with ivy, a home may be very plain and prosaic itself; yet to him for whom it was the center of childhood’s joys, youth’s aspirations, and manhood’s struggles and achievements, it will always be beautiful with the clinging ivy of fond recollections.

EFFECT OF MUTUAL LOVE

The strongest means, without doubt, of holding the family circle together is the practice of mutual love between all members of the family. The scriptural saying that charity covers a multitude of sins may be fitly applied to the home whose poverty and consequent lack of material attractions is more than compensated for by the unselfish love that pervades it. Just as warm-hearted kindliness can light up and lend charm to even a homely countenance, so it can also brighten a home and by its almost magic influence transform a hovel into an abode of delight This often explains why many a child finds the far more humble home of a neighboring family more attractive than its own.

FEEDING THE FIRE OF AFFECTION

Only too often this congenial atmosphere is wanting in the home, not because the inmates do not love one another truly, but because they do not manifest their love sufficiently. There is a lack of the little courtesies and amenities that are so powerful a means of fostering affection. Even the most sincere and deep-seated affection must be fed, if it is not to wither and fade. It is like the cozy hearth fire which must have fresh fuel now and then, if it is not to burn low or go out altogether Failure to heap the coals of kindness and sociableness upon the fire of family affection is sometimes due to a naturally sullen disposition. More often it can be traced to lack of training in that point; the parents failed to foster sociableness among their children. Quite commonly it is the result of preoccupation with other affairs-business, social or private interests. At times, too, it is due merely to oversight. Attention was never directed to the propriety and advantage of cultivating habits of mutual kindliness, cheerfulness, and good will; and in consequence there may be a touch of chilliness and gloom about the home where an atmosphere of genial warmth and sunshine should prevail. But, whatever the cause of deficient sociableness in any members of the family, it can and it should be removed.

EFFECT OF KIND WORDS

The story is told by the author of “The Man Who Was Nobody” of a man who never thought of saving a friendly word to his wife and family. A friend called his attention to the fact. He made it clear to him just how he was acting and what an effect it was having on his dear ones, even though they never complained. He listened to what his friend had to say and agreed that he was right. He promised to begin to do better that very day. That evening he went home a changed man. He greeted his wife and children; he said nothing about business and the worries of the day; at the dinner table he led the conversation. In every way he was most considerate. After the meal was over he went so far as to put on an apron to help dry the dishes. When his wife saw that, she broke down. “What’s the matter?” he exclaimed. “Oh, everything has gone wrong today,” she replied, “and to cap the climax you come home drunk.” His conduct was so affable, so different from what it had been, that there seemed to be only one plausible explanation; namely, that he was drunk.

POLITENESS THE ROBE OF CHARITY

If any of my readers should be obliged to admit that their past conduct has resembled that of the man in this story, they, too, no doubt will decide to reform. For it needs only that it be pointed out for one to realize that little attentions, little compliments, little words of appreciation, encouragement, comfort, and cheer are dispensed with as much propriety within as without the home. To mention but one instance, should we not have a cheery good morning, a kind good-bye, a pleasant word or smile of welcome, and a cordial good-night for the members of our family just as well as for our friends and acquaintances? It is quite true that politeness is not of the essence of charity. As practiced by worldly people it is a purely natural virtue, and it is sometimes used as a cloak for a very uncharitable disposition. But is can be supernaturalized, and the fact that it is sometimes misused by evil men is no reason why the good should disdain it. Because of its exterior resemblance, politeness might well be styled the garment of charity. And so well does this vesture become the queen of all virtues, that charity never appears more gracious, never shows to better advantage, than when arrayed in the charming robe of Christian politeness.

NEED OF OCCUPATIONS AT HOME

Despite the attraction of pleasant surroundings and congenial companionship, the urge to leave home during leisure hours may still be very strong if there is nothing to do at home to occupy one’s leisure. Here, then, is another point that calls for attention in making the home attractive; and among the various occupations conducive to that end I would assign first place to the performance of certain tasks or the care of certain things. Let parents begin early to develop in their children an active interest in their home by assigning to each the care of a certain thing and by teaching them to take pride in doing their part well. Thus once could have the bookshelves to keep in order, or the library table; another the dining room table; a third some pot flowers to water, and so on; each one having the care of his own toys, shoes, and other personal belongings. Outdoors, to one could be assigned the care of the lawn or a part of it; to another a flower bed; to a third the walks or the porch; and each garden to cultivate or at least a tiny patch to weed and water. The keeping of a few chickens or other domestic fowl would offer another interesting as well as useful occupation. And to keep the children from growing one-sided as well as to revive their interest, they could also take turns in the performance of certain tasks, either every day or every week or every month, whichever way might be thought best.

PET ANIMALS

Then there are the pets-dogs, cats, rabbits, singing birds, parrots, anything that will enlist the interest of the children and serve as another tie binding them to their home. Interest in such things can be developed to such an extent that children will sometimes rather forego some other pleasure than leave home and neglect the things committed to their care. To foster this interest, the parents themselves must show a keen interest in their children’s efforts, and always have a kind word of encouragement, appreciation or praise for their achievements, no matter how trivial and childish the latter may be.

GAMES AND TOYS

And finally, though most of the occupations I have spoken of really constitute excellent recreation if properly directed and not overdone, there must needs be also sheer amusements- pleasurable pastimes, undisguised enjoyments, and care-free indulgence in interesting games. In these days of the player piano, the phonograph, and the radio, not to speak of the numerous playthings that electricity and other modern discoveries and inventions have produced, this phase of the problem of home life is not hard to solve. But even in those families that may be too poor to afford such luxuries, there need be no lack of amusement; for the old-fashioned games of lotto, dominoes, checkers, mill, cards, authors, and parchesi, all of which may be had for a few cents each, can still hold the interest of old and young alike. By one who has a little skill, many of these games can be fabricated at home with hardly any expense; and the fact that they are homemade often makes them the more enjoyable. Indeed, it is a quite common experience that few games are enjoyed more by children than those that are entirely their own invention.

NOT TOO MANY INHIBITIONS

There is just one more bit of advice that I think should be given in this chapter and that is: Let there not be too many inhibitions in the home! Those who must guard against excess in this point are the mothers and the elder sisters. It goes without saying that even the members of the family will not enjoy staying at home, if they are not made to feel at home; and no one can really feel at home, if he is hampered at every turn by instructions and reminders not to do this and to avoid that. Discipline and order there should be, of course; but it need not be the discipline and order of the church or schoolroom. The very proximity of the walls and ceiling impose a certain amount of restraint that is absent out of doors; but it need not be the restraint demanded by the presence of strangers. Yes, mother dear, and dear elder sister, train your dear ones in orderliness and neatness and well-bred deportment; but let it be done with the sweet reasonableness of a mother and sister, and not with the tyrannical imperiousness of a Xantippe. If undue restraint is placed on them at home, your growing boys and girls will soon find an opportunity of escaping to more congenial places of amusement; and then, instead of spending your evenings in the midst of a joyful, if perhaps a little too noisy family, you will be left to keep late and lonely vigils worrying over your wandering boys and girls and perhaps over the head of the house himself.

MAKE EVERYONE FEEL AT HOME

By all means, then, let the home folks be made to feel at home. Let the father of the house occupy the finest easy chair, even if he is not arrayed in his Sunday clothes. Let the grown-up sons smoke in the sitting room or in the parlor, even if the smoke does stain the curtains or the wall paper. Let there be music and song and games at the time for recreation, even if they are somewhat noisy. Let the children have their own theatricals, if they like to; let there be an abundance of clean wholesome reading matter, picture books, puzzles, and toys; let the parents themselves join in or at least show an interest in the amusements of their children, and the home will become so attractive that there will rarely be any temptation to seek recreation elsewhere.

“Keep the home fires burning” is the slogan I would suggest to all who are laboring for the reform of society. Instead of nightly faring forth to the club, the theatre, the “movie” or some other place of amusement, let the members of the family once more gather round the hearth, whether to work, to study, to read, to amuse themselves or to pray. Better far one such night spent in the bosom of the family and in the atmosphere of a truly Catholic home than a dozen nights spent at the club or the “movie,” no matter how unobjectionable, educational and inspiring.

A VOICE IN THE WILDERNESS

Think not, kind reader, that I do not realize (and oh, how poignantly!) that, in making this plea, I shall be looked upon by the great majority as hopelessly behind the times, and as making a futile effort to turn the current of our modern age. But was there ever a more glorious battle fought for a principle, or was there ever a more heroic stand made in defense of the right than when the defender was faced by overwhelming odds? If, like St. John the Baptist, I am but the voice of one crying in the wilderness, at least I have the consolation of being in good company. And if, like the early Christian apologists who raised their voices in protest against the persecuting emperors, I may seem to be trying to stave off the inevitable, I again find comfort in the fact that the Church that the apologists defended still exists and exerts her benign influence, while the all-powerful empire that persecuted her is long since a heap of ruins.

GOD’S GRACE STILL POWERFUL

It is true, the Church is the work of God, and its preservation, its spread, and its conquests have been accomplished more by the power of God than by the wisdom and power of man. But so, too, is the family, and especially the Christian family, the work of God; and if it is to accomplish its God-given mission in the Christian home, it has less need of human means than of divine. And therein precisely lies my hope. God’s grace is still active and still powerful; and it is solely through it and not “by the persuasive words of human wisdom,” that I hope to accomplish any good through these pages. There are still well-meaning souls in this wicked world; souls who want to do the best they can; naturally Christian souls who long for something better, higher, nobler. It is to these especially, and, more particularly still, to young wives and mothers that I address myself in the hope that, as they read these instructions and counsels, the grace of God will inspire them anew with a strong desire and an earnest determination to make their homes models of what a Christian home should be. Let them establish their homes on the rock bottom of religion; let them cultivate prayer, foster good reading, preserve a Catholic atmosphere in their homes and promote home life, and, by the blessing of God their homes will become veritable strongholds of the Faith, schools of virtue, abodes of peace and happiness and love, which the angels of God will delight to visit, and which God Himself will look down upon with pleasure and bless with a foretaste of the joys of Heaven.

CONCLUSION

IT is with a feeling of deep satisfaction that I bring this little book on the home to a close. God grant that it may be the humble instrument of accomplishing at least a small amount of the good for which it was undertaken. To that end I can only beg the kind reader who has had the patience to peruse the foregoing pages, not to put the book aside for good after the first reading, but to pick it up again and again until the lessons it contains become deeply engraven on his heart. The substance of those lessons is this: that since society, which should help the individual to lead a Godfearing life, has become a means of leading him astray, to counteract this evil influence, the family, which is the unit of society, must be reformed by being again imbued with the spirit of Christianity. When religion once more directs, controls, and permeates the family life, not only will the individual have an effective safeguard against the evils of society, but society itself will be reformed.

The means to accomplish this end are the simple but efficacious ones that I have pointed out. Think not lightly of them, dear reader, on account of their simplicity, and despise them not for that they are old. Parents above all, fathers and mothers, see to it that these old-fashioned manifestations of Catholic life once more come into honor in your homes. You cannot have religion without religious exercises, as little as you can have fire without fuel. Nor can you make of your religion a purely church affair, because it is something that touches life at every point.

To children, and especially to those young men and young women who will soon be looking forward to establishing homes of their own, I say: If you hope to have a truly Christian home when you marry, you must lay the foundation for it now. Be faithful to the practice of daily prayer and frequent Communion in the years of young manhood and young womanhood; be chaste during the time of courtship, and you may justly expect God to bless your future home. But if you neglect your religion and incur the wrath of God by your liberties in keeping company, you run great risk of building your Christian home upon sand. Avoid the occasions of sin, therefore; for he that loveth danger shall perish in it. Let me warn you especially against following that custom, as pernicious as it is widespread, which accords young unmarried couples the privilege of almost as complete privacy and seclusion as if they were already married. The proper place for keeping company is in the presence of the father and mother or some other member of the family. These nightly tete-a-tetes and long drawn out private interviews between two young persons of opposite sex are occasions of sin and a source of many other evils, not the least among which are hurried and unhappy marriages. It is during the time of courtship, I repeat, that the foundation is laid for the future home. Let it be made of religion and virtue, my dear young men and young ladies, and then you can securely build up thereon that beautiful edifice, that bulwark of religion, that fortress of morality, that pillar of society, that citadel of peace and happiness- the model Christian home.

Home, sweet home! What a multitude of tender thoughts and feelings are associated with the utterance of that sweet word! What a host of happy memories it conjures up of the innocent days of childhood, of the carefree days of youth, of the toilsome days of maturer age. The home is, indeed, the center of the sweetest and purest of all earthly joys, the starting point of all that is best and greatest in human history. Our Divine Savior Himself gave the home a special consecration by gracing the humble home of Nazareth with His presence during thirty long years; and He thereby gave us also the first and the supreme model of the truly Christian home. Yes, so sacred is the word home that it is commonly used to designate even that eternal dwelling place that God has prepared for those that love Him.

Love your home, then, dear reader, and try to make it worthy of that sacred name. You can adopt no surer means than to establish religion in your home by enthroning the Sacred Heart as its King and by conforming it as closely as possible to the home of the Holy Family. If the father seeks to imitate St. Joseph; if the mother emulates the loving care of Mary; if the children are docile and diligent after the example of the Child Jesus; and if all seek first the Kingdom of God and His justice,-be it ever so humble, yours will be a happy home. What, then, if those foes of your salvation, the devil and the wicked world, storm and rage without,-you and yours will be safe within the walls of your Christian home. For, built as it is on the rock of Faith, we may truly say of it what Our Blessed Savior said of those who hear His words and do them: “And the rain fell, and the floods came, and the winds blew; and they beat upon that house, and it fell not; for it was founded on a rock” (Mt. 7, 25).

Nihil Obstat

Fr. Conradin Wallbraun, O.F.M.

Fr. Liberatus Presser, O.F.M. Censor Dep.

Imprimi Permittitur:

Fr. Optatus Loeffler, O.F.M. Min. Prov. Die 2 Martii, 1934

Imprimatur:

@ George Cardinal Mundelein April 7, 1934.

The Christmas Child

DANIEL A. LORD, S. J

INDEX

Beyond all else Christmas means children.

And beyond all children Christmas means especially one Child

Even the sad pagans of a modern day, who have rudely excluded that Divine Child from Christmas, have, because of

Him, kept the day sacred to children.

Where the Christ Child is loved for Himself and is seen in the little children, who are beautifully like Him, Christmas is the day, beyond all other days, when love moves over the earth with lighted tapers, and the virtues of childhood make young once more a weary, aging humanity.

Even where the Christ Child is forgotten or ignored, His little ones for a single day waken in human hearts a new tenderness and unselfish affection. And the innocence of childhood, its unquenchable faith in the goodness of others, curve into smiles even the cynical lips that have drunk deep of sin and grown bitter in sneers.

For Christmas begins and ends with a Child. About the Infant in the manger prophecies are fulfilled, and angels sing, and the poor kneel giftless save for the unpurchasable gift of patient affection, and the rich come gilt-laden, but with a strange humility bringing low their heads, and all mankind is reborn to a new era of grace and hope and God’s revelation of love and graciousness. “A child is born to us and a son is given to us,” cried Isaias in ecstatic prophecy. In a vision he saw this Child, born of a Virgin, in God’s beautiful promise and sign, and his heart burst forth in the first glad Christmas greeting, “A child is born to us and a son is given to us.” And from that joyful prophecy flowed all the joy and peace and Christmas spirit that coursed hopefully through the Old Law unto glorious fulfilment in the New.

Over the heads of the patiently watchful shepherds the glory of a star ripped the satin curtains of night. Then angel hands thrust back the torn shreds of gold and purple sky, and the uncontrollable joy of heaven itself leaped forth to sing of a Child.

“Glory to God in the highest,” because of that Child. “And on earth peace to men of good will,” who from that moment would find themselves kneeling in complete happiness beside that Golden Babe.

Startled, the shepherds looked up at the splendour flung unexpectedly into their drab lives. True peasants, they noted with instinctive relief that their lambs upon the hillside grazed unafraid either of the star, the angel messengers, or the swelling chorus. How could these lambs of the poor (later the favourite subject of the Saviour’s parables) be flung into confusion by news that the Lamb of God had come to shepherd all His sheep?

“Today is born to you a Saviour who is Christ the Lord.” Their slow minds were not too dull to realise that tonight their beloved Scriptures were fulfilled. This was the expected King of whom the angels sang. Startling as were the signs by which they were to recognise Him, swaddling clothes and a manger, they broke into headlong flight down the hill and flung themselves in adoration before the Child held up to them by the sweetest mother in all human history.

The childlike faith and hope of simple peasants found fulfilment in a Child. Christmas came rushing into their eventless lives on the wings of an infant’s smile, and the low-voiced gratitude of a mother welcoming these first Christmas guests who, in a beautiful single gesture, adored her Son and filled her day with the sweet fragrance of their Christmas greeting.

“Where is He that was born King of the Jews?”

The question, repeated a thousand times along their tedious way through the desert and sprawling villages and nomadic tribes and smug, white-roofed cities, was answered with shrugged shoulders and cynically turned backs, with significant touching of foreheads and frankly contemptuous laughter.

Undismayed, the Magi were drawn forward on their quest by the vague hope of finding a Child.

More than likely they dreamed of palace gates swinging wide to welcome them as grooms swept forward to catch their camels by their tinkling bridles and pages helped them to dismount.

Surely the child of a king would rest upon the softest down, under coverlets of purple damask. Hushed attendants might permit them a glimpse of newborn royalty between the crossed lances of sleepless sentinels. Yet even this glimpse would be reward enough, they felt, for their weary desert road, the tireless swaying of their camels and the night-long journeys in pursuit of a forward moving star.

For here was a Child tall enough to light a blaze in the heavens. In the ancient papyri written for a mighty Cyrus by a Jew named Daniel, they were assured that this was no ordinary child who was born under a flaming star.

Were they at first, even for an instant, bitterly taken aback? Did they almost turn away in disappointment from the dark mouth of this unguarded stable? Probably they caught up their silken gowns as they stepped through cattle pens and sheepfolds to the dark hill cave, unlighted except for the now motionless star.

But when they saw the Child, all of Christmas welled up in their souls. What did it matter that He lay, not on orient silk, but on crackling straw; that an exquisite maid and a dignified carpenter (strange contradiction, to their aristocratic minds, a carpenter with such poise and dignity) were His only courtiers; that the bleak walls of the stable, rough-hewn from the black earth of the hill, were bare of heraldic standards or banners of scarlet and gold; that no sentries flashed repelling swords to hold back intruders?

Faith swept them forward in its high tide. A Child they had come to seek. Yet in all the world there was no child like this.

He wore His swaddling clothes as if they were Tyrian purple. He lay in a manger that seemed like a conquered world. He opened His tiny arms, and their circle was vast enough to embrace all humanity. He smiled, and the light of a new era dawned.

They had come to find a child king who was to conquer and save the world. Naturally they had dreamed of a kingship proved by files of palace guards and fluttering choirs of nurses, by carved ebony and beaten gold upon his crib, and breathless statesmen adding his name to the line of royal ancestors-he the heir of their greatness and their petty crimes, their occasional acts of kingliness and their frequent baseness and stupid cruelty and criminal lust. They knew no other kings nor sons of kings than these.

They had not dared dream of a Child whose evident kingship made a palace out of a stable and a throne out of straw heaped for oxen. They had not wildly imagined a sovereign who could conquer because he was without weapons and who won His followers, not by the cold aloofness of power, but by the warm approachableness of His weakness and His love.

Before this Child of the poor these rich men eagerly poured the tribute of their gifts. Before this Infant who contained all that the world needed to save it, these wise men bent submissive knees.

Although the shepherds in their simple ignorance and the Magi in their deep wisdom were unaware of it, around the Child, from the very beginning, vortexed the complete drama of humanity’s best and basest emotions.

He had been welcomed, as every great benefactor of humanity is welcomed, with cruel indifference and rudely slammed doors. Yet, if the doors of earth were barred in His face, the gates of heaven broken open to welcome Him.

No child had ever felt, even in the heart of the most unselfish mother, the maternal love that cushioned His little body and wrapped securely His soul against the bitter winds of men’s careless ingratitude. But from the neighbouring Bethlehem, though song rose, it was not sung to honour His birthday. The hands that clasped in glad welcome to relatives were hands that had recently waved away the mother of the Son of God. The warm love of a mother was never more pitifully needed than on that night, when the stinging winds blew callously and ungraciously, less from the hills than from every door and window in His own city.

If there was quick faith in the adoration of the shepherds, there was another sort of faith in the cruel planning of the king who ruled in Jerusalem. Even as the Magi knelt to adore Him, swords were being sharpened in expectation of His throat. The last traces of rust disappeared from spear points, and brutal hands, already instructed in murder, and waiting for orders, gripped tighter the hefts.

Herod, paying unconscious tribute to the Child he had never seen, paced the floor of his council chamber, hatred eating at his vitals. Soon, he felt, the triumphant faith of these Magi would place the Child within easy reach of sword blade and spear point and death.

The faith of the Magi brought them to their knees in grateful adoration. The faith of Herod brought him to his feet, thirsting for murder.

If Joseph watched against harm, a Roman emperor, long leagues away, issued his orders that there should be no king but Caesar, and bought up in good round gold the loyalty of high priests, who knew well that a Child must be born in Bethlehem who would override Rome and shake them from their secure positions. Even as Christmas dawned, Good Friday was being prepared.

Maternal love and the simple devotion of a gentleman of noble but reduced circumstances; the love of the world’s purest hearts and the hatred of its vilest; a wedding of heaven to earth as angels sang of glorious news, and with it the cold uninterestedness of tight little huts and tighter little souls; the romance of a hurried quest across half the known world; murder stalking from a palace and making the first Christian martyrs in the homes of harmless peasants; spontaneous faith eagerly given and hospitality ignobly denied; the surging of heaven itself in a mighty shout of joy and the resentful stirring of earth asleep in its own ugly apathy-all these were present about this Child at the moment of His birth.

Life in its completeness of virtue and vice, enthusiasm and dark contempt, keenest joy and acutest sorrow, sublime love and blackest hate, high adventuring and bleak doubt, circled the crib of the Christmas Child.

Undoubtedly, as the shepherds returned to their flocks, they remembered only that the Babe was beautiful, the mother unforgettably lovely, and the man wonderfully gracious. And they knew that they felt in their souls a joy that they had never known before.

The Magi, however, travelled back by slow stages. They must take time to reason and reflect. And surely their trained minds marvelled at the singular appropriateness of a Child’s being sent to save the sad old world and end the wearisome night.

If they had expected to find a great captain at their journey’s end, they now knew how sharp would have been their disappointment.

For history had written the record of all too many captains thundering across continents, their progress marked by collapsing cities and the burning huts of farmers, by children whimpering in the shadow of oak trees, and women hiding their faces from the memory of brutal leers and their own shame.

The old world had been magnificent in the flowering of its conquerors. They had clanked triumphantly along a hundred highways. Resistlessly they had piled new empires on the ruins of those they had crushed. Atop these swaggering tyrannies they had sat, demanding the tribute of gold and lives, while slaves toiled to death beneath dark foundations and women stifled their tears lest coursing hounds, mail-clad and erect as men, might find them to their ruin.

No need of captains now! The world needed, and, happily, the Magi remembered, the world had received, a Child.

Great philosophers had solemnly sat in their quiet groves or among their white marble pillars, and twined grape leaves in the hair of truth. The Magi almost shuddered as they remembered these men who had found truth only to mock it.

They had treated philosophy as a tricky game with which to prove one’s glib tongue or to sharpen a bitter eloquence. If today they proved that black was black, they tomorrow felt a perverse joy in proving that black was really dull grey, and the next day that it was blood-red or yellow as the hair of a girl or the skin of a tiger. Even they who had seen truth with clear eyes and had written of it with revealing pen had turned from high thought to base living. They had found the one true God and had left Him to burn incense to the gods of lust and thievery, or worshipped their own animal instincts or the vapid applause of the mob.

Truth had been deserted, even by those who knew it best, for the drinking flagon and the dancing girl, for the groves of Venus and the cellars of Bacchus, for the favour of a ruler who played, drunk or sober, at being divine, or for the smelly shouts of a populace who were bored by any truth that was not flattering or amusing.

Scientists, then, as in every other age, were strangely preoccupied, not with giving life, but with teaching men to deal death more effectively. The very roads along which the Magi travelled had been built by scientific men to hasten the conquering march of armies, not to quicken the advance of culture or the sacred progress of God.

The Magi, knowing history, knew these men had not saved, could not save, the world. Knowing nothing of the future, they could hardly guess that in this Child would be revealed the Captain, Philosopher, Guide of the Scientist, Beneficent Conqueror, King of Kings.

“Out of thee, Bethlehem,” had sung the prophet, “shall come the captain who will rule my people Israel.”

Even the priests, who through this prophecy sent the Magi forward to Bethlehem while they turned back to count their money or court their wives, had told them this. This Child would some day be the Captain of the armies of the Most High, leading them out to His peaceful conquest of the world.

Under that Captain white uniformed companies of virgins would march with red-caped squadrons of martyrs, while vanguards of apostles would swing in advance of legions of doctors and confessors. And over all, the conquering standard of the cross!

Here was to be a Captain whose conquered victims loved Him with grateful, devoted love. The more completely they were conquered, the more deeply would they love Him. Here was a Conqueror whose pathway would be lined, not with the prostrate bodies of helpless victims, but with the upright figures of the saints.

Later all thinkers were to lift their heads in astonished acknowledgment as He said calmly, “I am the truth.” And the world would sit as children at His feet.

Incarnate philosophy, revealed theology, the sum and circle of all essential truth, this Child was to give to a truthhungry world a knowledge that was more than human, and a wisdom that was divine. For the first time men would learn of a truth that did not merely feed the mind. His was a truth that made the heart glow and the tongue shout for joy.

And, as wise men had knelt, humbly, learning wisdom from a Babe who lay in a rough-hewn manger, so great philosophers would use as their supremest textbook His carved figure fixed upon two crossed sticks.

While scientists with painful searching discovered laws in nature, He was the God who had made those laws. His providence had given to these basic elements their powers and the endless combinations on which science mounts to new achievements. “By Him and in Him were all things made, and without Him was made nothing that was made.”

One of the Magi, according to a tradition, lived to see the Child grown to manhood. If this was so, he saw in Him a poet who spoke poetry in beautiful parables, and lived poetry in every kindly gesture and every loving act.

He saw a King who captured by personal fascination and goodness, and held captive by generous love. He saw the very King of Kings, who walked among His people and won His endless kingdom only when the devastating charge of His enemies scattered His friends at the base of Calvary’s hill, flung Him in final assault to its height, and there inflicted on Him the apparent defeat of death.

And if he stood near the cross, that Wise Man could read in the dying eyes of the Saviour the same love and tenderness and pitiful searching of the world that he had seen in the eyes of the Child in the crib.

The Magi rode back happy with a peace they had never known before. From the Child they had drunk deep of the happiness that is Christmas. Yet, as they pondered, they realised that in this Child they had really seen the birth of a new world. Not as Captain nor Scientist nor Philosopher nor Poet nor even as King would they remember Him. He was to them the Child, and, as a Child, the symbol of all that the tired, sick, weary old world needed.

Weary with the sickness of sin, the world needed a new birth. Desperate after centuries of deluding dreams and exhausting struggles, the world needed the dawn of a new hope.

And in the Child whom they had seen and worshipped, and to whom all mankind would return with each recurring Christmastide, was the new life that was so badly needed.

“I have come that they may have life, and have it more abundantly.” In every child that is born lies new hope for each generation. But in this Child lay hope for all mankind. From His infant weakness was to come the renewal of human strength. His young life was hope for the feeble old world. In His eyes was the prophetic vision of a new-born age that would find a new law of life, pledge itself to a new testament, proclaim to the world the fulfilment of a new gospel, announce the good news for which, in darkness and despair, the nations had sat-wearily waiting.

Strangely enough, within His infant soul were the very virtues out of which the new humanity was to fashion itself and the new age to rise: sinlessness and purity, a trusting faith in the heavenly Father, a simplicity more beautiful than all the elaborate dreams of empire builders and the intricate conceptions of artists.

How desperately old had man grown in his sin! Sin had lined his face and bent his back as it urged him relentlessly onward in its stupid, futile treadmill.

Slaves, under the lash of cruelty, grew feeble and broken though their years were still the years of youth. Women looked out from eyes made old by tears and the searing glare of vice. The souls of little children stared out from sadly old bodies, wise beyond their years with a wisdom taught them by sin-stodgy mothers and vice-warped sires.

Old nations crumbled under the weight, not of years, but of tyrannies and ugly idolatries, greed and debilitating lust.

Even the temple of God seemed very old with its crafty-eyed priests stroking long beards amid their ugly haggling over unimportant forms of worship, while wearisome commerce ran the corridors and bleated before the silken curtain of the Holy of Holies. Impurity, that ages as does no other sin, sent world conquerors to early and filthy graves, set to trembling the legs of athletes and philosophers, carved ugly wrinkles into faces that yesterday were fresh as that of the prodigal still in his father’s house, or as those of the ladies of pleasure chosen for their youth to hurry him on his road to the pigsty and ageing disillusionment.

Then came this Child with the ageless youth that is sinlessness. Not until the weight of humanity’s sin pressed the blood from His crushed body in the agony of Gethsemane would His years be measured except in growth of body, in wisdom of mind, in grace of soul.

His face would be unlined and unwrinkled till the end. His eyes would glow with the quick enthusiasm of youth. Children would flock to Him, loving His eager, youthful response.

Then, through a death brought about, not by ageing body or exhausted strength,but by the external pressure of others’ sin that had not touched His own soul, He would enter upon the ageless youth of the Resurrection, and, Himself immortal, pass down sinless youth throughout all time.

From Him this youth flowed as from an inexhaustible fountain to the weary world. The ageing power of sin was thwarted.

Mary, His mother, moved through life always a virgin, always sinless, always young. John, the Beloved, brought Him the quick love of his youth; loved Him in maturity with the undimmed fire of young enthusiasm; and dreamed the glorious dreams of youth even when a hundred years had, with inverted alchemy, turned to silver his yellow-gold hair.

Peter, mature and venerable when we first meet him, grows young in the company of His Master. Like a young man, he races across Jerusalem at news of the Resurrection. Like a young athlete, he leaps into the sea to swim to Christ, revealing Himself upon the shore. With the optimism of youth he faces the task of conquering a world that defies conquest, and youthfully does his accomplished work. Faced with martyrdom, he youthfully begs that the cross be inverted. He died in youthful love, and, by an almost sacred jest, upside down in what he knew to be a topsy-turvy world.

Saints never grow old. Their ageless life flows from the Child of the Christmastide. And though this life first touches their souls, it is reflected beautifully in their bodies. Like Anthony the hermit, they may pass the century mark, yet their eyes are the eyes of youth and their lips curve easily in prayer, in love, in laughter.

Martyrs laughing at threat of death; virgins singing their way through the age-old assaults of temptation; venerable doctors dropping their pens to burst into love songs to Mary; devoted mothers looking upon their petulant children with eyes young and alert and beautiful; brave men, weary with life’s bitter relentlessness, yet smiling ecstatically as they kneel before the Tabernacle; pure young men and women, unspoiled and unaged, moving with steady steps and clear eyes among a generation of young people that are sophisticated, bored, old with impurity and soul-sick with cynicism; nuns whose faces are guiltless of wrinkles as their souls are guiltless of sin; old priests dying with calm faith in humanity and the gaiety of a schoolboy bound homeward for the holidays-all these have drunk deep of the inexhaustible youth that flows from Christ the Child.

Ageless, too, is the Church that was born with Christ in Bethlehem. Its enemies are tirelessly predicting its death. Yet it moves on its way, the youngest organisation in the world. Nations totter to their graves; the Church sings its regretful requiem, and turns toward new nations still fighting up from barbarism. Peoples grow weary with the struggle to survive; the Church lays them in their peaceful graves, and speedily baptizes their successors.

Unending youth flows from the Child of Bethlehem to the Church, to the nations that remain faithful, to the individual man or woman who finds the Fountain of Youth that sprang up in the darkness of a hillside the night Christ was born.

The disillusioned world into which Christ was born had lost the child-like gift of faith. There was no Father in heaven watching over a beloved world.

God seemed to the Jews far less a Father than a wrathful Judge. To the pagans heaven was filled with capricious supermortals, greater in their powers, but greater, too, in their callous selfishness. Men felt themselves the playthings of the mocking Fates, who tossed them about like the toys of spoiled children.

Then Christ the Child was born, and all this was different.

Men suddenly knew that they were God’s beloved children, for He loved them well enough to give them His only begotten Son to be their brother and their Saviour.

Faith in a provident God was born again there in the shadowy stable of Bethlehem. It was a faith that lifted a supine world to its feet and raised its eyes to the Father, Who watched hopefully from a hill even when His children ran the prodigal ways of sin; Who, like a shepherd, searched for them among the brambles of the mountain-side; Who rewarded with an infinite love those who freely gave Him their love, and Who repaid the puny efforts of His children as the most doting father had never repaid his favourite child.

Faith is Christian. Cynicism is pagan. Trust in God is born of Christ. Despair of the gods is the hopeless blight of the religions that know not Bethlehem. Cynicism, like sin, wearies the heart of man to death. But the reasons for cynicism died when the world was given its vision of the Father Whose Child was born in Bethlehem for love of His brothers and sisters.

All the mystery of childhood was wrapped in the body of the Child of the Christmastide. All of childhood’s unfulfilled promise, all of infancy’s limitless expectations, rested upon His tiny head.

As His mother dreamed (far all mothers dream the same precious dreams) over the Child against her breast, she alone knew that the fullness of her expectations could not match the fullness of His completed promise. The undeveloped mystery of His infancy would expand into the radiant mystery of His manhood.

Slowly, as mothers will, she uncurled the petal fingers of her Child. Absurd it seemed that these should be the hands of the One who shaped the suns and planets and, with compelling finger, traced the course of every speeding star.

Hardly less absurd, however, was the vision that these hands, wrapped sleepily about her finger, touching warmingly her breast, should become calloused with the hammer and the plane with which He would earn her food. When the fullness of time came, and they had forever dropped the carpenter’s tools, these hands (could she, mother-like, foresee all this?) would lift above a tensely eager people, gesturing to the lovely flow of His sermons and His parables, touching sinridden bodies and lifting them to their feet, stroking sin-scarred foreheads until they became virgin white and calm, multiplying bread and changing water into wine, and then, in stranger miracle, lifting the bread and wine into more precious substances.

Of all the instruments of His carpenter’s trade, these hands would at the end cling only to the nails, till in his palms red wounds glowed with the glory of the Resurrection.

Sleepily His baby lips curved in a smile against the warm valley in her throat. Silent now, some day, her mother’s heart knew clearly, they would utter words that would echo and re-echo endlessly through time and eternity.

First they would speak her name-lovingly. Then they would honour His Father-prayerfully. Then they would bless humanity-tenderly. Then they would call His apostles-compellingly. Then they would pour forth the revelation of His Father’s truth-with authority. Then they would plead from the cross-pitifully. And in glorious climax they would speak welcome to the just and judgment to the wicked-unendingly.

Now His eyes, in the vague focuslessness of infancy, are closed. Yet all the glorious promise of those eyes!-lifted gratefully to her face; raised prayerfully to His Father; scanning the young men of the village and the lake shore for possible disciples; waiting intently for signs of faith and acceptance; pleading voicelessly with sinners; glowing with a love that broke the passionate heart of Magdalen and the repentant heart of Peter; blazing with just anger as the whip of cords rises and falls upon the despoilers of His temple; ecstatic as he speaks of unseen truth; prophetic as He gazes into the future, glorious or bloodstained, of His Church; agonised as He faces sin in the garden and falls beneath its blows; pain-tortured as He looked from the cross to see mankind lusting for His blood; immortal, as through them shines His divinity after the Resurrection.

All these unfulfilled but certain mysteries were wrapped round in the sleeping or waking form of the Child of Bethlehem. If in our hearts we always feel that children seem closest to God (and reverently we kneel as we accept this mystery), this time we know that the Child is not merely close to God. He is God.

He is God, and God in His most appealing, most compelling manifestation. The era of the terrifying Jehovah, thundering above His disobedient people and sending the slim shaft of His lightning and the crawling vengeance of His serpents, is over.

After the sadly adult gods of paganism, old in their wickedness and cynical from their personal familiarity with sin, God comes to man as an innocent babe. After the impure animals before whom knelt Egypt and Babylon and Carthage, God manifests Himself as the one irresistible thing in all the world, a child lifting its arms for love and pity and a welcome embrace.

While God was vast and all-powerful, men often sulked under His reign. Angrily they questioned His right. His laws irked them, and they shrank back resentfully from His commands.

Surely, then, this is a new era of God’s dealing with men that begins with God’s begging of our love and our welcome. Apparently, here in the crib, He needs us more than we need Him. (Untrue, we know, except that in this lovely chapter we see God’s insistent wooing of our hearts through the disguise of infancy.) God, Who had promised to be our host in eternity, Who offered us grandly the hospitality of heaven, now of a sudden begs hospitality and shelter from human homes and hearts.

We stand aghast, as all the believing world has stood aghast, before this mystery of the Child. God has emptied Himself of all save love. His power seems gone; for His arms are weak and helpless and His voice is stilled. No longer does He pass judgment on the world; instead the world walks by the crib, passing judgment of acceptance or rejection upon Him.

His majesty is laid aside; the angels have returned to heaven; the star fades and disappears; shepherds, in their smelly garments, kneel unafraid; and a young maid holds Infinity in her arms.

Here, in the presence of this Child, we know that God has emptied Himself of everything except His overwhelming love. Yet, with the eloquence of silence, with the power of weakness willingly assumed, with the majesty of omnipotence made infancy, and in a language so powerful that it needs no words, God, from the crib of a Child, begs for a love men cannot deny to children, and surely will not deny to the Child Who spanned infinity to reach their hearts.

So Christmas will always belong to children, because Christmas belongs to the Divine Child.

Because of Him the day is made glad with lights and music and gifts and laughter and warmth and the enveloping affection of friends and the happy shelter of homes.

Even the orphaned child finds about him on Christmas an almost yearning love he hardly knows for the rest of the year. Men must be sweet to him, as in him they see some slight image of the dear Child who was God.

Love was appallingly denied to the Child of the Christmastide. It must not be denied to the children who have been since His day. Christmas belongs to children, and yet?

Hopefully the Child, grown to manhood, spoke of His followers, who would “become as little children.” “Theirs,” He cried, in glorious climax, “is the kingdom of heaven.”

More than that; theirs, whether they be six or sixty, stumbling in the first steps of childhood or tottering in their last feeble steps toward the grave, theirs is Christmas.

For souls are ageless, souls that have drawn their life from the crib of the ageless Child. Souls are always young if they are unblemished by sin or unwearied by the weight of evil or rejuvenated in the miraculous spring of penance. To them the Christ Child comes as to His beloved playfellows and dear contemporaries. They are young, and Christmas is for them.

In the hearts of these faithful is a deep faith in their Father. They may know themselves wise with all the wisdom of grave science and world literature; in the light of God’s omniscience they know they are His little children, playing with sand piles upon a tide-swept shore. Yet they are glad, for their Father will not forget His children, but with tender eyes will hover over their days, guard through their nights, and lead them home with strong and gracious arms. Happily they face all of life; happily they face Christmas. They have the ageless faith of childhood.

Wearily the pagan world, grown old in sin, staggers to its work and sags after its play. Even its Christmas is drear and meaningless and heavily streaked with sin; for though it may gesture toward its human children, it has forgotten the Divine Child. But to us who are His adorers as well as His adopted brothers and sisters, Christmas comes as the birthday we love best. To us it brings back all the thrilling joy of His childhood and our own.

In the glory of the Mass He is re-born.

In the warm shelter of our souls, He finds His eucharistic Bethlehem, not cold now and repelling, but, we hope, warm, hospitable, fragrant with grace.

In the midst of our children He rests, our unseen, but first-honoured, guest.

In church and convent chapel young-eyed priests and never-aging nuns bend tenderly over the Figure in the crib, and then raise joyful heads to the glad Reality within the crib of the tabernacle.

And bells peal forth, and hearts leap up, and children smile, hardly knowing why they smile, and old people yearn for the re-birth that stupidly we call death, and mothers are wearily glad for the anxieties and joys of the day, and fathers touch their children’s heads with new reverence, and old wrongs are forgiven, and old songs are sung, and Christmas reigns and peace is everywhere:

Because of a Child who was born to us and a Son who was given to us.

Because we are children of the Father who is His.

Because in a cave we have found the spring of eternal life.

Because divine love has assumed its most attractive form and reached out to us the compelling arms of infancy.

Because we stand in the light that is the unfading smile of the Child of the Christmastide.

Nihil obstat:

J. DONOVAN, Censor Deputatus lmprimi potest:

@ D. MANNIX,

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis. 1937

********

The Church Christ Founded

BY VERY REV. FRANCIS J. RIPLEY C.M.S

INDEX

WELCOME to you, dear reader. You are interested in Jesus Christ; you wish to follow and love him. My purpose in writing is to help you to do that. Before we go any further it would be a good thing to find out just where we stand in regard to certain fundamentals. You will help yourself to understand what I am going to write later on if you answer which of the following statements you think are right and which wrong.

Right or Wrong?

1. God exists

2. We must worship God as a matter of strict duty

3. If God has told us how we must worship him, we must do it in that way and no other, once we know that way

4. Jesus Christ is really and truly God, the second of the three Persons of the Holy Trinity, become man

5. All that Jesus Christ taught, God wants us to know and believe

6. An important part of Christ’s teaching concerns his Church

7. Christ’s Church is God’s Church

8. To know about the way God wants to be worshipped we must know about his Church, which is Christ’s Church

What are your answers? If you agree that each of these eight statements is correct, you accept the fundamental beliefs necessary before you go on to study the kind of Church Christ left behind when he ascended into heaven. God’s revelation contains our Maker’s instructions for living rightly. We are not free to pick and choose amongst them, accepting some and rejecting others. All are important. God would not have revealed them to us unless they were things he wants us to know. What he tells us about his Church we must accept fully along with the rest. We are bound to regulate our lives according to it.

The vital question is: What sort of Church did Jesus Christ, God, found? Was it one of those organisations we call “the churches” or “the denominations,” like the Methodists, the Congregationalists, the Presbyterians, the Anglicans or the Roman Catholics? Almost all Protestants would answer “No” to that question. We Catholics answer “Yes.” We know that Jesus Christ founded the Catholic Church to which we belong, the Church which has its head in Rome and is governed by Bishops all over the world who are the successors of the twelve Apostles.

WHAT PROTESTANTS SAY

IF PROTESTANTS do not believe that Jesus Christ founded one of the denominations, what do they believe? Is there any alternative? It is hard to answer those questions simply because Protestants differ so much in what they believe, especially about the Church. You may hear some of them saying that one religion is as good as another, that they all stress different aspects of Christ’s teaching and that it is for each individual to choose the Church which suits him. Others may say they have no time for organised religion and that it is how you live that counts.

The founders of Protestantism, Martin Luther and John Calvin, taught that Chri st’s Church consists of all those whom God has predestined to heaven.

More recently Adolf Harnack, a leading member of the so-called Critical School of Protestants, maintained that the important thing was the spirit of Christ, the spirit of love for God and men. Those who feel in their hearts what he felt make up his Kingdom or his Church.

High Churchmen, Episcopalians and the Separated Eastern Churches admit that Christ set up a visible organised society, but the common Protestant view has been stated by Charles G. Morrison in a book called Can Protestantism Win America?:

“No denomination claims that Christ is the head of its denomination! It may claim that it has “the truth”, that it is “the New Testament Church”, that its creed is the true statement of the Christian faith, and that its practices and mode of organisation conform strictly to the “pattern” of the primitive church; but no denomination, or only a negligible few, has ever pretended that Christ is the head of its denomination. Such a claim would sound either ridiculous or blasphemous in the ear of any Protestant. Only Rome makes such a claim, and it was against this very pretension that Protestantism revolted.”

The main point we have to discuss, then, is not whether the Methodist, Congregationalist, Presbyterian, Anglican or R.C. Church is the one Christ founded but whether he did, in fact, found any organised Church. Nine out of ten of the people who reject the Catholic Church do so not because they believe that Christ established some other church, but because they believe he established no organised church at all. They think of his Church as a number of souls- how many God alone knows-who believe in Christ’s Kingdom and his message but do not necessarily belong to an organised body of his followers. As Morrison writes: “Protestantism thus knows at least this much of the mind of Christ with respect to the differences which divide his church into “churches”: he totally disregards them as having no relevancy at all in the constitution of his church. Protestants confess that Christ and his church transcend their sectarian contentions and the sectarian “churches” that are maintained upon them. The sheep of other sectarian folds belong to him no less than those of their own sectarian fold.”

It is sometimes maintained, indeed, that a particular denomination is endowed with a certain broadmindedness which, in the providence of God, enables it to include as its members those whose beliefs or methods of worship differ in essentials. These contradictions, such as those which exist in the Church of England between the High Church party and the Evangelicals, are nowadays called “tensions”. They will be resolved, it is contended, in time by a normal development and evolution through which the truth will finally emerge.

“I BELIEVE IN THE HOLY CATHOLIC CHURCH”

When , therefore, a Protestant says in the Apostles” Creed that he believes in the Holy Catholic Church, he may mean that he believes in following Christ in the great unorganised body of Christians, in acquiring Christ’s outlook and living up to his moral teaching in a way his private judgment dictates. He does not believe that his denomination is the Holy Catholic Church. The denominations themselves are not the Holy Catholic Church of the Creed; they are to that church what clubs are to a city. One can be a perfectly good citizen without belonging to the Masons, the Oddfellows, the Rotarians or the Buffalos. The vital thing is to live in the city; it may or may not be useful to join a club. NonCatholics usually contend that all Christians belong to Christ’s holy Catholic Church, whether they are members of a denomination or not. So it may well be that one church is as good as another. Certainly few Protestants would believe that any church has God’s authority to teach men what they must believe or how they must live.

OUTSIDE THE CHURCH NO SALVATION

MOST of them regard it as improper if not quite outrageous to claim to belong to the one and only organisation Christ set up. Some of them still imagine, in spite of the persistency with which Catholics refute the idea, that we believe that all those outside the visible unity of the Church are going to hell.

Unless there are clear indications to the contrary, Catholics regard their separated brethren as being sincere people in good faith. Many of them have a deep, personal love of Christ and regulate their lives according to the highest ideals. God does not blame or punish anybody for what is not his own fault. Ignorance is only blameworthy when it is culpable. Here is what the highest authority in the Catholic Church has written:

“Those who are hampered by invincible ignorance about our holy religion, and live honourably and uprightly, keeping the natural law with its commands (which are written in every human heart by God), being ready to obey God, can attain eternal life with the help of the power of divine light and grace. God clearly sees, searches out and knows the minds, hearts, thoughts and dispositions of everyone; in his great goodness and mercy he will on no account permit a man to be punished with eternal torments, who is not guilty of voluntary sin. (Pope Pius XI).

A man may never come into contact with the Catholic faith; or if he does it may be in such a way that it makes no real impact on him. Nothing impels him to study the Church’s claims or if he does study them sincerely according to his ability they do not convince him-such a man remains in good faith. On the other hand there is such a thing as intellectual laziness which masquerades as ignorance. It is expressed in sayings such as: “I am not qualified to settle the differences between the churches or to judge the claims of any one of them”; “There may be something in it but I prefer to stay as I am”; “I am afraid I might be converted and so have to change my life” or “I am too busy to bother about religion.” God alone knows and can judge the consciences of those who subscribe to statements like these; but they seem to express an attitude to God’s revelation which is highly suspect.

ONE RELIGION IS AS GOOD AS ANOTHER

THE NOTION that all religions are equally good, be they pagan or Christian, is quite wrong; for, seeing that some of them were being practised already, why did God become man, establish a new religion and tell his apostles to convert all men to it?

Nor is it true that all Christian religions are as good as one another. They contradict one another in three main and essential points-on what they believe, on how they worship and on the authority they obey. Christ, being God, could not teach contradictories as true. The purpose of any Christian religion must be to teach the full, unaltered religion of Jesus Christ. Seeing that no two of all the Christian denominations agree exactly on doctrine, worship and authority no two can be teaching the integral, unchanged religion of Christ. It is no answer to say that each denomination stresses different aspects of that religion. The fact remains that they do contradict one another in essentials. Some churches are ruled out of court immediately because the contradictions are to be found within themselves. Of the others, if one of, let us say, 250 Christian denominations is teaching just what Christ taught, worshipping in his way and recognising the authority he established, all the others must be wrong, for all of them disagree in at least one of these three vital matters.

THE CHURCH-AN ORGANISED SOCIETY

THE plain, simple truth is that Jesus Christ founded on earth directly and personally an organised religious society which he called his Church. A society is a number of people who work together under the same authority using the same means towards the same objective. Jesus Christ selected certain men whom he personally trained to govern his Church under one whom he appointed its head. He told them what they were to aim at and how they were to do it, with his help. Years passed and that simple society grew; its organisation became more complex, but we can trace its history through the centuries. Today only the Catholic Church claims, and is able to prove her claim, to be that society.

PROVED BY THE COUNCILS

BEFORE the sixteenth century the Church was always regarded as a highly organised institution. Its supreme ruler was known to be the Pope. Under him were bishops, abbots and priests. All this is clear from the General Councils held from very early times. Bishops from all over the world attended them. They, the local rulers of the Church, assembled together to decide questions of faith and morals. Once the Pope approved those decisions they were binding on Catholics everywhere.

What a contrast with, say, the Lambeth Conferences or the meetings of the World Council of the Churches, where representatives sit together under a chairman who has no jurisdiction over them. The General Councils could, and sometimes did, cut off certain heretics from the Church. The General Council of Nicea in 325 A.D. excommunicated the followers of Arius. Such a thing would have been impossible if all that was necessary to be a member of the Church was belief in Christ and willingness to follow him. The canons of the General Councils-four of them were held in the fourth and fifth centuries, Nicea (325), Constantinople (381), Ephesus (431). Chalcedon (451)- demonstrate that the Church was regarded as an organisation embracing rulers and subjects, teachers and taught, working together with the same means, with the same object in view.

The canons of the councils prove that the bishops had supreme authority in their own cities. A person had to obey his bishop if he wished to remain in the Church; disobedience meant expulsion. The bishops themselves, of course, had to obey the rulings of the Church. One of the canons of the Council of Ephesus, for example, reads like this: “Similarly concerning all those who shall attempt to undo in any way any decision of this holy council of Ephesus, the holy council decides that if they be bishops or clerics, they are to be expelled from their ranks (deposed); if laity, excommunicated.” All such decrees prove beyond doubt that the early Church was a well-organised society, strongly knit together by obedience to one authority.

The Pope was the supreme authority. Six hundred and thirty bishops were present at Chalcedon, most of them from the Eastern Empire. In a letter to Pope Leo they wrote: “In your representatives you took the presidency over the members of the Synod, as the head over the members.” The fact was acknowledged by Pope Leo:

“My legates have presided in my place over the Oriental Synod.” At the first session of the Council the papal legate, Paschasinus, declared: “We have a commission from the most holy and most apostolic Bishop of Rome, who is head of all Churches, to see that Dioscorus shall have no seat in the Council, and if he shall venture upon this, that he be expelled.” Dioscorus was the Bishop of Alexandria to whom the Pope objected because he tried to hold a general council “without the consent of the Apostolic See, which had never been done before, and was never to be done.” No bishop questioned the fact that the Pope was the head of all the Churches. It was taken for granted. Thus Dioscorus was denied a vote at Chalcedon.

An even clearer instance of proof that the bishops were present at a general council merely to confirm the decisions of the Pope is the instruction of Pope Celestine to the Council of Ephesus: “The legates (i.e. of the Pope) are to be present at the transactions of the Synod, and will give effect to what the Pope has decided long ago about Nestorius, for he has no doubt that the assembled bishops will agree with this.” No bishop questioned the Pope’s right to direct the Council. In proof of this we quote from the declaration of the Archbishop of Caesarea, Firmus, one of the leading bishops at the Council: “The former letter of the Apostolic See (i.e. the Pope) to Cyril (i.e. St Cyril, Archbishop of Alexandria) had already contained the sentence and direction respecting the Nestorian question, and they (the assembled bishops) had . . . only fulfilled this direction and pronounced the canonical and apostolic condemnation of Nestorius.”

The acclamations of the bishops assembled at Chalcedon are well known. After the reading of the Nicene Creeds they proclaimed:

“That is the orthodox faith, that we all believe; into that we were baptised; into that we also baptise; thus Cyril taught; thus Pope Leo believes.” Similarly, when another of Pope Leo’s letters was read the bishops declared: “That is the faith of the Fathers, that is the faith of the Apostles! We all believe thus, the orthodox believe thus! Anathema to him who believes otherwise! Peter has spoken by Leo.” Later, Paschasinus, the Pope’s legate, spoke of Leo as the Archbishop of all the Churches, whose letter showed “quite clearly what is the true faith.”

The records of these and other Councils are facts of history which prove beyond a shadow of doubt that the Church of those days was regarded by all as a visible, organised society, a group of men, with the same objective, using the same means to attain it under the direction of an authority they all recognised. That it was a society bound together by authority is absolutely clear from all the records of the Church from those times.

PROVED FROM THE FATHERS

MUCH information about the organisation of the Church in the early centuries is to be gleaned from contemporary writings. There seems to be little point in giving here a list of quotations from the Fathers, emphasising the point that it was essentially and by Christ’s will a visible organised society, because the fact is so very evident. In his History of Dogma,Harnack a Protestant writes: “There can be no doubt that the Gnostic propaganda (i.e. of the second century) was seriously injured by that inability to organise and govern churches which is characteristic of all philosophical systems of religion. The Gnostic organisation of schools and mysteries was not able to contend with the episcopal organisation of the Churches.”

It will be of interest to mention just two of the Fathers of the Church, St Irenaeus and St Ignatius. The former had been a disciple of St Polycarp, who in turn was a disciple of St John the Apostle. He was martyred at Lyons in the year 202. His most famous work is called Adversus Haereses. Possibly it has been quoted more than any other work of the period as evidence of belief in the supremacy of the Pope. Our present purpose is simply to show what a highly organised society the Catholic Church was at the end of the second century. “In every church, all who wish to know the truth may study the traditions of the Apostles that is known all over the world. In fact, we can tell you the names of those who were appointed bishops in the (various) churches by the Apostles and trace their successors to our own times. And because the Apostles were committing the government of the Church into their hands, they wanted these men, who were to take their places, to be perfect and blameless in every way.” Elsewhere he wrote: “One should obey the presbyters who are the successors of the Apostles . . . We should follow those who preserve the doctrine of the Apostles and who are qualified, with the order of the priesthood, to instruct and correct others privately and publicly.” St Ignatius wrote his letters about a century earlier. He was on his way from Antioch, where he was bishop, to Rome where he was to be martyred in the year 107. To the Christian communities of the places through which he passed he wrote seven letters. Here is a quotation from what he wrote to the Trallians: “You must continue to do nothing apart from the bishop. Obey priests as apostles of Jesus Christ. Similarly, all should respect the deacons as they would respect Jesus Christ, just as they respect the bishop as representing the Father and the priests as the council of God and the college of the Apostles. Apart from these there in nothing that can be called a Church.”

The same lesson is repeated to the Ephesians and to the Smyrneans. To the former St Ignatius wrote: “If the prayer of one or two men is so powerful, how much more so is that of the bishop and that of the whole Church. Anyone, therefore, who fails to assemble with the others has already displayed his pride and separated himself

Let us be careful not to oppose the bishop so that we may obey God.” To the latter he wrote: “Shun schisms as the source of troubles. Follow the bishop as Jesus Christ did the Father and the priests as you would the Apostles. Reverence the deacons as you would God’s command. Apart from the bishop nobody must perform any of the functions that belong to the Church. The Eucharist must be considered valid when it is offered by the bishop or by one to whom the bishop has given this charge. Wherever the bishop appears, there should the people be; as wherever Jesus Christ is, there is the Catholic Church.”

It hardly needs to be pointed out that in the year 107 this great martyr took it for granted that the Catholic Church existed as an organised society in all the towns through which he passed. In each place bishops and priests were necessary. There was no government of the Church without them. They had to be obeyed if the faithful wished to be Catholics. They ruled as representatives of our Lord. St Ignatius was the immediate successor of the Apostles. He had known them. His idea of the constitution of the Church must have been theirs. It certainly did not change overnight.

PROVED FROM THE ACTS AND EPISTLES

No sooner had Jesus Christ ascended into heaven than the Church appeared as a visible organised society. There was no interim period; no time lag during which the Apostles organised themselves. Immediately, without any delay at all, they worked together, led by St Peter, as the Church’s official teachers and rulers. They did not ask people if they were in charge or if they might appoint deacons. They knew they were and acted accordingly, thus: “Then the twelve, calling together the multitude of the disciples, said: It is not reason that we should leave the word of God and serve tables. Wherefore, brethren, look ye out among you seven men of good reputation, full of the Holy Ghost and wisdom, whom we may appoint over this business. But we will give ourselves continually to prayer and to the ministry of the word. And the saying was liked by the multitude. And they chose Stephen, a man full of faith and of the Holy Ghost, and Philip and Prochorus, and Nicanor, and Timon and Permenas and Nicholas, a proselyte of Antioch. These they set before the Apostles: and they, praying, imposed hands upon them” (Acts 6 : 2–6).

If that passage does not reveal the organisation of the Church im mediately after Christ’s ascension into heaven nothing does. The Twelve Apostles called together the general body of the disciples. They told them to choose seven men. Then these seven were ordained by the Twelve and put in charge of the less important work of the Church.

In the very first chapter of Acts we read how St Peter arranged for the election of St Matthias to take Judas’s place. They took it as a matter of course that the man elected would have their powers over the Church. St Paul told Timothy the same thing: A bishop had to be one “that ruleth well his own house . . . But if a man know not how to rule his own house, how shall he take care of the Church of God?” (1 Tim. 3 : 4–5).

Read the whole of the fifteenth chapter of the Acts of the Apostles and you will see at once how the Church was governed. You will see how the Christians at Antioch referred their questions to the officials, the apostles and presbyters of the central Church. They sent representatives to Jerusalem who were welcomed by the Church and by the Apostles and presbyters. We see that not only were the Church’s leaders well known and organised but the members as well. The dispute went on until St Peter made his decision. Following his ruling the Apostles made a law for Gentile converts. All this shows that the Apostles were the recognised leaders of the Church, with ruling authority.

Here is an extract, but the whole chapter will be read with advan tage: “And some, coming down from Judea, taught the brethren:

That, except you be circumcised after the manner of Moses, you cannot be saved. And when Paul and Barnabas had no small contest with them, they determined that Paul and Barnabas and certain others of the other side should go up to the apostles and priests to Jerusalem, about this question . . . And, when they were come to Jerusalem, they were received by the church and by the apostles and ancients, declaring how great things God had done with them. But there arose of the sect of the Pharisees some that believed, saying: They must be circumcised and be commanded to observe the law of Moses. And the apostles and ancients assembled to consider this matter. And when there had been much disputing, Peter, rising up, said to them . . . Then it pleased the apostles and the ancients, with the whole church, to choose men of their own company and to send to Antioch with Paul and Barnabas . . . For it hath seemed good to the Holy Ghost and to us to lay no further burden upon you than these necessary things” (Acts 15).

It will be seen from the Acts that the Apostles governed the Church under St Peter’s leadership. He it was who directed the election of Judas’s successor, he who preached the first sermons to the Jews, he who judged Ananias and Saphira, he who gave the final word at Jerusalem, as we have seen.

The note of authority was prominent in the Church-just as prominent as it is today. St Paul’s words to the Galatians are well known:”But though we, or an angel from heaven, preach a gospel to you besides that which we have preached to you, let him be anathema. As we said before, so now I say again: if anyone preached to you a gospel, besides that which you have received, let him be anathema” (Gal. 1: 8–10).

Exclusiveness is there, too. “A man that is a heretic, after the first and second admonition, avoid: knowing that he that is such a one is subverted and sinneth, being condemned by his own judgment” (Tit. 3 :10, 11).

Habitual sinners were to be expelled from the Church at Corinth:

“It is absolutely heard that there is fornication among you and such fornication as the like is not among the heathens: that one should have his father’s wife. And you are puffed up, and have not rather mourned, that he might be taken away from among you that hath done this thing. I, indeed, absent in body but present in spirit, have already judged, as though I were present, him that hath so done. In the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, you being gathered together and my spirit, with the power of our Lord Jesus, to deliver such a one to Satan for the destruction of the flesh . . . And the rest I will set in order, when I come” (1 Cor. 5 :1–5; 11: 34).

St Paul insisted, too, on obedience. Here is what he wrote to the Hebrews: “Obey your prelates and be subject to them. For they watch as being to render an account of your souls, that they may do this with joy and not with grief. For this is not expedient for you, . . . Salute all your prelates and all the saints (Heb. 13:17, 24).

Speaking to the clergy of Ephesus St Paul said: “Take heed to yourselves and to the whole flock, wherein the Holy Ghost hath placed you bishops, to rule the Church of God which he bath purchased with his own blood” (Acts 20 : 28).

There are few biblical matters on which so much has been written as the shape, function and organisation of the hierarchy in the Church in the first centuries. It is absolutely certain that this Church had its rulers and its subjects, its officials and its ordinary members, its teachers and its taught, all working towards the same objective; the accomplishment of the mission left to the Church by Christ. Baptism was a public rite; therefore the members of the Church were known. They worshipped publicly as a group. They all believed in the same doctrines. Those who differed from the official teachers were expelled.

If we can trace the visible, organised Church back to the Apostles, we have traced it back to Christ. These men were his friends and disciples for three years; they died for their loyalty to him; there is no where the slightest suggestion that they were doing anything against his known will. It is quite unthinkable that, no sooner had Christ ascended into heaven, the Apostles set up a Church according to a pattern he detested.

Albert Schweitzer is one of those who apparently thinks that God allowed all Christians to fall into error almost from the apostolic age, in spite of his promise that he would be with them all days even to the consummation of the world. Such an opinion is not only contrary to the evidence of the New Testament; it is contradicted by all the weight of nearly twenty centuries of unbroken tradition. Nowadays the vast majority of non-Catholic scholars have been forced to admit, as a result of their researches, that the early Church was Catholic in many important respects. It is also worth remarking that all who try to make a case for the modern non-Catholic position cannot agree amongst themselves upon when the Catholic Church began. Attempts vary from the first to the sixteenth centuries. As G. K. Chesterton said, Dean Inge just about reached the limit, in the popular as well as in the learned sense, when he said that Pentecost was the occasion for the institution of a dogmatic and despotic Church completely opposed to the ideas of Jesus.

Some of our separated brethren have found themselves in a dilemma between the obvious truth of our argument so far and their conviction that the Church of Christ could never be an authoritative, exclusive, organised, visible society. Some solution had to be found; so, in place of a better alternative, they have blamed St Paul and the other Apostles for changing Christianity, in spite of what the great Apostle wrote to the Ephesians: “You are fellow citizens with the saints and the domestics of God, built upon the foundation of the apostles and prophets, Jesus Christ himself being the chief cornerstone, in whom, all the building being framed together, groweth up into an holy temple in the Lord. In whom you also are built together into an habitation of God in the Spirit” (Eph. 2 :19–22).

PROVED FROM THE GOSPELS

To CLINCH our case and refute this last suggestion we have to show that it was indeed Christ Himself, the GodMan, who founded this visible, organised society which he called his Church.

The world was prepared for Christ’s Church by the church of the old dispensatio n. Under that dispensation the Church of God was just as extensive as, conterminous with, the Jewish nation. From among all nations, God “called” the Jews to his unique Assembly. The Jewish Church-nation roughly fore-modelled (to coin a word) the Christian Church which was to follow and replace it. This latter, however, differed in many respects from that which foreshadowed it. It was no longer national, but international; the Holy Spirit dwelt in it now and it was indefectible, infallible and irreplaceable. But the Jewish Church was a visible Society; so was the Church of Christ. Never once did our Lord suggest that there was to be a difference in that essential.

From the beginning of his public ministry he said he was going to establish “the kingdom of God,” “the kingdom of heaven” or “my Church.” This earthly kingdom was to be a preparation for the heavenly, the means of attaining eternal life. A remnant of the Jews would take part in this kingdom, which had been vaguely described by the prophets.

Jesus firmly resisted any effort to make him a temporal ruler. His was not to be a political kingdom. But it was to be on earth. He said it would be like a field, containing both wheat and cockle, a net, with good fish and bad in it, a bridal party, with foolish virgins as well as wise. It would be one flock from one fold, and Peter would be the shepherd. The final resurrection was to take place at the end and not at the beginning of it.

Jesus described himself as a king going into a far country. While he is away deputies will administer his kingdom. It will grow rapidly like a mustard tree, becoming a leaven for all the human race. The King will return at the end of the world to reap the harvest. He will separate the cockle from the wheat, the bad fish from the good and the goats from the sheep. He will then invite the good to that heavenly kingdom, which is the consummation of his kingdom on earth.

At the centre of this kingdom or Church were the Apostles whom Christ carefully trained. He called them solemnly and officially after a night spent in prayer: “And, going up into a mountain, he called unto him whom he would himself. And they came to him. And he made that twelve should be with him and that he might send them to preach” (Mark 3 :13–14).

These twelve were to be his “fishers of men,” the “salt of the earth.” He spent most of his time training them. They were to take his place in the world and his message to all men. They were to continue his ministry after his death. They were to reap a great harvest. To them he entrusted the secrets of his kingdom.

This teaching went on for two or three years. Then, just before he ascended into heaven, he sent them forth in his name to teach, rule and sanctify all nations.

“All power is given to me in heaven and in earth. Going, therefore, teach ye all nations; baptising them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost. Teaching them to observe all things whatsoever I have commanded you. And, behold, I am with you all days, even to the consummation of the world” (Matt. 28 :18–20).

Note the meaning of “therefore.” It is because Christ has all power in heaven and in earth that the Apostles are being sent out. Note also the fourfold “all”: with allChrist’s authority, they are to teach all his revelation to all men for alltime. St Luke tells us that Christ said to them: “You shall receive the power of the Holy Ghost coming upon you, and you shall be witnesses unto me in Jerusalem, and in all Judea and Samaria, and even to the uttermost part of the earth” (Acts 1: 8). It is clear that they are to teach.

Their mission is a continuation of Christ’s mission. Not only do they teach, but they teach officially in his name, helped by the Holy Spirit, who will recall and enable them to understand all his teachings:

“These things have I spoken to you, abiding with you. But the Paraclete, the Holy Ghost, whom the Father will send in my name, he will teach you all things and bring all things to your mind, whatsoever I shall have said to you” (John 14 : 25–26).

They were to govern men, not only teaching them what Christ had taught, but teaching them to obey what Christ commanded. Christ’s authority was with them. It was divine authority; it was absolutely binding: “Teaching them to observe (i.e. obey) all things whatsoever I have commanded you” (Matt. 28 : 20); “Amen, I say to you, whatsoever you shall bind upon earth shall be bound also in heaven: and whatsoever you shall loose upon earth shall be loosed also in heaven.” (Matt. 18 :18); “He that heareth you heareth me; and he that despiseth you despiseth me; and he that despiseth me despiseth him that sent me” (Luke 10 :16).

In addition to teaching and ruling men spiritually, the Apostles were to make them holy by sacred ceremonies. We have already quoted Our Lord’s commissionto baptise. On the first Easter day he “breathed on them; and he said to them: Receive ye the Holy Ghost; whose sins you shall forgive, they are forgiven them; and whose sins you shall retain, they are retained” (John 20 : 22). And, of course, the night before he died he gave them power to consecrate the Holy Eucharist and ordered them to do it in commemoration of him.

These commands the Apostles carried out. After St Peter’s first sermon on the day of Pentecost “they that received his word were baptised;and there were added in that day about three thousand souls” (Acts 2 : 41). Philip converted the Samaritans: “When they had believed Philip preaching of the kingdom of God, in the name of Jesus Christ, they were baptised, both men and women . . . When the Apostles, who were in Jerusalem, had heard that Samaria had received the word of God, they sent unto them Peter and John. Who, when they were come, prayed for them that they might receive the Holy Ghost. For he was not as yet come upon any of them; but they were only baptised in the name of the Lord Jesus. Then they laid their hands upon them; and they received the Holy Ghost” (Acts 8:12–17).

Even though the first Gentile converts had already received the Holy Ghost, Peter baptised them (Acts 8 : .12–17). Baptism was always regarded as the ceremony of initiation into Christ’s Church. Until the Protestant revolt it was regarded as a public rite which clearly distinguished members of the Church from those outside.

To the Apostles Christ had promised, as we have seen, his constant divine help. They taught his doctrines everywhere; they ruled according to his commands; they made men holy with his sacraments. They knew that his Spirit was with them, as he had promised: “I will ask the Father; and he shall give you another Paraclete, that he may abide with you for ever. ., he shall abide with you and shall be in you” (John 14 :16–17).

Because of Christ’s promises the Church has always relied on the Holy Spirit to inspire and guide. We saw how in that first Council ofJerusalem the Apostles boldly proclaimed: “It hath seemed good to the Holy Ghost and to us . . .” (Acts 15 : 28). The Church’s decision was the Holy Spirit’s decision. St Paul regarded the Church, therefore, as the pillar and foundation of truth.

CONCLUSION

ALL the evidence at our disposal, of which we have sketched only a brief summary, convinces us that Christ set up over nineteen hundred years ago a visible, organised society. Its objective was to make all men holy and save their souls. The means to that were belief in Christ, reception of the sacraments he instituted and obedience to the authority he established. The members were those who believed and were baptised. The authority was the Apostles under the leadership of St Peter, and their successors.

From the beginning Christ’s Church was a highly organised society. The organisation of its earliest years was preserved and developed. Before the sixteenth century there is no reference anywhere to the notion that the Christian Church consists ofall Christ’s followers, whether they are baptised or not, whether they believe in the Sacraments or not, whether they accept orthodox teaching or not, whether they obey the successors of St Peter and the Apostles or not. The idea that the denominations are to Christ’s Church as the clubs are to a city was unheard of for the first sixteen hundred years of the Church’s life. Not only was it unheard of, it was definitely contrary to the belief and practice of all the leaders and members of the Church.

That Christ established a visible organised Church is a truth clearly set forth in the New Testament, completely vindicated by the Church’s history and absolutely reasonable. We cannot be true followers of Christ unless we accept his Church. It is through that Church that he lives on in the world today. It is through that Church that his ministry continues. It lies at the very heart of his revelation to men.

He said in his Sermon on the Mount: “He that shall break one of these least commandments and shall so teac h men shall be called the least in the kingdom of heaven.” (Matt. 5 :19).

What shall we say of those who, through culpable ignorance, intellectual indolence or moral cowardice, reject the Church God came on earth to found?

Turn back, now, to the first page of this booklet. Look at the last of the eight statements which you stated to be true: “To know about the way God wants to be worshipped we must know about his Church, which is Christ’s Church.”

I hope that now you know what sort of a Church Christ’s is; therefore, what sort of Church you must look for. It is the constitution of the Church that matters. Too much time is spent on bandying texts and arguing about scandals in history. God’s Church is human as well as divine; Christ told us in advance that scandals would come. He chose St Peter, who had denied him, to be the first Pope in preference to St John, the beloved, to emphasise that we must always distinguish between the man and the office or, in other words, between the constitution of the Church and the men who make up the Church.

The short cut to the true following of Christ is to find out what kind of Church His is. We have described it in these pages. In the world today only one Church, the Catholic Church, with its centre in Rome, fills the bill. The crucial question is that of authority. We have seen it at every stage of the Church’s history-in the Councils, in the Fathers, in the Acts and the Epistles, in the Gospels, where it was conferred by Christ himself. That same authority is in the world to-day vested in the Catholic Bishops who are the successors of the Apostles under the leadership of the Pope, who is the successor of St Peter. In a nutshell the final answer is what you say to the question: Where on earth is Peter?

********

The Church Is A Failure?

BY DANIEL A. LORD, S.J

INDEX

HELEN WEBB”S mother, who was always being surprised and was sometimes a little alarmed at her literary duckling, had raised politely incredulous eyebrows.

“A priest?” she asked, in a tone that suggested that her daughter was bringing home a zebra, a Cornish giant, or a giant baby panda.

“A priest,” replied her daughter. “You’ll like him, I think, mother; and if you knew how little he calls on any except his own parishioners, you would realize that his coming here is an event.”

“An event,” Mrs. Webb agreed, “that will undoubtedly make my Puritan ancestors roll restlessly in their graves.” She addressed the impersonal and unresponsive ether: “First I find that I have a daughter who never attends the church of her ancestors, and now I discover that she consorts”-she dwelt on the word in almost affectionate distaste-”with Roman Catholic priests.”

NOVEL GUEST

Just the same, she was perfectly polite when Father Hall arrived. In fact, thought Helen, with amusement, her attitude could be called the world’s most perfect imitation of being polite. She welcomed Ford Osborne with genuine affection; even though she thought him queer, as were most literary people-her daughter included. She respected his ability to make money out of stringing words together, and she liked him for his obviously pleasant intentions toward her daughter.

The dinner was a success. Father Hall talked of all the things that New Yorkers talk about, until there were moments when Mrs. Webb had to pull herself together and whisper to her Puritan conscience, “In spite of his surface charm the man is a reactionary Romanist.”

After dinner Helen showed Father Hall the very pleasant library, which she had reconstructed into a workroom for herself.

“A pleasant blend of order and disorder, of charm and waste paper, of feminine craft and masculine carbon paper,” annotated Ford.

To which Helen retorted by demanding to know when carbon paper had become either masculine or feminine. “Either species may turn copycat,” she protested.

CONVERSATIONAL SWING

Then Mrs. Webb disappeared into the mysteries over which hostesses preside as priestesses, and Father Hall and the two young people seated themselves in comfortable chairs in the library workroom and relaxed. Odd, thought Helen, that we young pagans should find this orthodox, middle-aged priest so thoroughly companionable. And odd, thought Ford, his mind paralleling Helen’s, that he should have the power to ruffle the depths of our souls.

They talked of summer styles in boots, and ocean-going liners, and the joys of correspondence-with or without sealing wax-and the coming of kings to hospitable American shores. At length they arrived by the devious paths of conversation at the inevitable subject of religion. It was not that Father Hall directed their vocal steps that way. It was just that, as is the case with all intelligent people, religion inevitably demanded attention as the conversation came to rest either lightly or heavily upon it as one of the world’s most absorbing topics.

But clearly religion in general was not the subject that was serving as magnet for the younger two. When they finally reached this particular subject, Father Hall had the feeling that they themselves had discussed it very often: their opening lines sounded so well rehearsed.

LOGIC

Said Ford: “You see, Father, if Christ is really God . . .”

“ . . . and,” antiphoned Helen, “if He established this Church of yours . . .”

“ . . . then the Church is a Divine institution.”

“Perfect logic expressing an inevitable conclusion,” nodded Father Hall.

Helen and Ford interchanged triumphant glances.

“Then-” began Ford.

“ . . . if that is the case-” supplemented Helen.

“ . . . how do you explain-” continued the young man.

“ . . . that where individuals and nations and ages are concerned-,” the girl subsumed.

“ . . . the Church is not-uh-as-”

“ . . . more successful?” concluded Helen.

Again, they interchanged glances. Ford thanked Helen silently for what was clearly a polite term to cover what they were really thinking.

“You mean”-and the priest smiled at them-”that you want to know why the Church is such a failure?”

FAILURE

Of course, they had ceased being amazed at the frankness of their priest friend. They hedged around a problem, and he smacked it flat and limp on the table before them. They tried to phrase a difficulty in words that would be inoffensive, and he called spades spades, with sometimes a highly descriptive adjective to boot.

“Ah-er,” began Ford. Then, gathering courage, “To be perfectly frank, that’s exactly what we want to know. How can a Divine institution be a failure?”

“Why doesn’t the Church exercise a more profound effect on people?” Helen was really eager in her question. “If the Church is really Christ’s and Divine, it should transform people. . . .”

THE CHURCH IS A FAILURE

“Did you ever,” Father Hall asked, mildly, “hear of that wonderfully transformed group of human beings called the saints?”

“Oh,” she answered, “a handful out of all humanity!”

“What about Catholic nations?” demanded Ford. “Why aren’t they shining examples of what the rest of the nations ought to be?”

“Why, to put it with your own charming bluntness-”

“Why is the Church a failure?”

RESPONSE

Father Hall, with a gesture, asked permission to smoke his pipe. Helen nodded swiftly. He filled it from a well-worn pouch, lighted it meditatively, and blew out a warm white cloud of fragrance. The chair was comfortable. He sincerely liked the two young people who were his host and hostess on this visit, made possible by an impromptu trip from his beloved parish at Lakeside to midwinter New York.

As for their question, it intrigued him. He had thought of it often in his work for souls. When he struggled with some doubting mind and brought it just to the verge of conversion . . . and then had to watch that soul slip back into boggy doubt; when he saw some young man, Catholic in ancestry and training, turn criminal, go rotten in morals, adopt grafting as his political career, marry some notorious divorcee; when he heard of priests” betraying the Church; when supposedly Catholic nations plunged into bloody civil wars and unjust aggression on weaker nations; when, after nineteen centuries and more of work for humanity, there was still so much tyranny, lust, unloosed passion, graft, injustice, exploitation . . .

THE BRIGHT SIDE

He pulled himself together with almost a physical effort, and drew his mind back from that swift race down the paths of human failures.

“Of course,” he said, “I could spend the evening showing you all that the Church has really accomplished.”

“Oh,” replied Helen, willingly enough, “we know about the consolation, the religious hope, the spiritual joy, the promise of heaven that the Church brings to her members.”

The priest shook his head.

“That’s not what I mean. I mean that it would be easy to show you how the very things that democracy is fighting to maintain against the dictators wouldn’t have been remotely possible without the past nineteen centuries or so of effort by the Church. I mean that I could show you what the Church has done for the happiness of this life and this very tangible modern world.”

“I wish you would,” said Ford, a little belligerently.

“Some other time,” the priest replied. “Right now I want to discuss that question of failure. Let’s see why the Church fails. Oh, I”11 admit that she does fail. In the end, of course, she cannot fail. We Catholics are sure of that. But she failed in England when Henry VIII. wanted a new wife. She failed in all of Scandinavia, and became an exiled outlaw. She fails with thousands of Americans who should be Catholics, but who are gangsters, rotten politicians, drunkards, bad husbands, unfaithful wives, criminals-”

THE DARK SIDE

“Well!” cried Helen, in admiration. “What a picture of the situation you can paint!”

Ford laughed. “He always makes our difficulties and objections blacker than even we thought them to be.” The priest smiled a little ruefully.

“No priest,” he said, “could possibly fail to realize the constant failures of the Church. Such failures are too much his own experience in dealing with human souls. You see, Christ and His Church want to remake the world. Well, the frank reality is that millions of people don’t want to be remade. They like their pet vices. They prefer their doubts and mistakes. As a young Jewish boy wrote to me the other day, in what sounded like an echo of the cry of his people before Pilate: “I don’t want to be converted. I don’t want your Christ, and I don’t want your Church. Leave me alone in the ways of my ancestors.” Naturally there was nothing I could do about it-however convinced I am of the importance of Christ and of Christianity for his life-but bow in polite regret and leave him alone.”

THE CHARGE OF FAILURE

Father Hall’s eyes grew reminiscent.

“You wouldn’t remember that far back,” he said, “but when the late World War rocked civilization, the Church took an awful beating. “Christianity has failed,” was the howl that went up across the world. “If the Church had been on the job,” writer after writer protested, “this never would have happened. Here are these Christian people slaughtering one another. Nineteen hundred years of Christianity climaxes in this mass murder.””

Ford and Helen both nodded.

“That’s just the way I should have felt about it,” said Ford.

“I don’t see how you ever answered that challenge,” added Helen.

THE ANSWER

Father Hall faced them quietly.

“Naturally I can’t give you the exact quotation, but Father James J. Daly, writing in the “America” magazine, answered it very simply. What, he demanded, has Christianity and the Church to do with this war at all? Since the days of the

Protestant rebellion the nations have been determined that the Church should have nothing whatever to do with the running of the world. The Pope is a prisoner in the Vatican; his words are disregarded by the rulers of Europe. Who are the prophets of our day? Writers whose books and plays and poetry you can search with a microscope and find no slightest glimmer of faith or Christianity. The scientists that created the big guns and the high explosives were the same ones that had already bombarded the gates of heaven and the Rock of Peter. The Church has been forbidden a place in the council of the nations, forbidden a place in education, in literature. She has been told flatly and coldly to mind her own business. But when a war breaks out and hell pops loose among the nations, then the Church is the one that’s to blame. After telling the Church for three hundred and fifty years (1550–1914) to shut her mouth, pagans now say to her. “Why didn’t you cry out?” After stripping her, as far as was possible, of all earthly influence, they taunt, “If you’d done your job, this wouldn’t have happened.” After living like pagans, the leaders who pulled the world into war yap like illogical children and say. “Yes; but you shouldn’t have let us do it.””

IDEAS CONTINUE

Father Hall laughed, and the two young people joined in heartily and sincerely.

“Once more, that’s a subject I”m not going into tonight. But if the world isn’t plunging into war this minute, two things are preventing it: fear -the fear of world-suicide-and the fact that in the back of men’s minds there still remain a few Catholic principles. Men still know that murder, mass murder, too, is wrong. (Murder wasn’t considered wrong in pagan days.) They still believe in international justice, which came into existence with the Christian concept of men’s brotherhood in God the Father. Despite dictators, men still think that man is too important and too dignified to be merely gun fodder and a human bomb to clear the path for the glory of some tyrant.”

Father Hall waved all that aside.

“But I can’t go into that now. Let’s stick to the one question of the Church’s failure.”

Ford and Helen were intensely interested in what, might have become an almost oratorical side-track. But they knew

Father Hall’s insistence on sticking to one point at a time, so they nodded, and he retraced.

NEXT TIME

“If,” he said, in a footnote he could not resist, “we go hurtling into another world war, I hope I”11 be spared that chestnut about the failure of Christianity-at least, any war started by the pagan Hitler, the agnostic Mussolini, the materialist Stalin, Poland’s divorced Beck, England’s Protestant Chamberlain, and the whole un-Catholic crew who regard the Church as the punching-bag for them to beat in times of peace in order that they might keep themselves in trim for a real fight.”

“Chamberlain, too?” demanded Ford.

“Well, perhaps I”ve exaggerated slightly. But certainly Chamberlain is no Catholic. I”d be interested to know just how much of fundamental Christianity he really holds. But omit him if you wish. And instead let’s take the overwhelming mass of English writers who, like most of the really popular writers of the world, are pagan to the core. Paul Claudel, poet, dramatist, former French ambassador to the United States, once said of them that you could search their writing from end to end and find not the slightest intimation of the fact that God died on the cross for their salvation.”

OTHERS FAIL, TOO

“Yes,” Father Hall continued, “the Church fails with individuals, and she fails with nations. So, too, do good mothers fail:

“They see their sons become black sheep; they weep over their fallen daughters. So, too, do great doctors fail: They give their patients prescriptions and diets and advice that would inevitably lead to health; the patients simply decline to follow the doctors” guidance, and regretfully the doctors see their patients grow deathly sick and die. So, too, do the best teachers and the finest schools fail: Students decline to study; they come to school and successfully defy the efforts of the school to educate them; they go to classes in classic literature and come out and read ephemeral junk. I guess failure is pretty much the common experience of all those who deal with human beings.

“You see the one inescapable fact that we all come to know is the fact of human free will. You can use force on an animal and see him eventually turn out to be the kind of animal you want him to be. You can breed a plant to some highly specialized purpose, and, if your method is right, your plant will produce an eyeless potato or a seedless orange or a new and delicious blend of peach and plum. But human beings ?”

FREE CHOICE

“Yes,” agreed Ford, ruefully; “they’re a problem.”

“And that’s simple history,” continued Father Hall. “Men have that dangerous power to do what they want to do despite persuasion, a sense of their own best interests, and the presence of the police, their loved ones, Christ, the Church. Men continue to steal in an age that has used as its most widely accepted truism, Crime Doesn’t Pay. Young people still refuse to get the education and training that they know are essential for a good job and success in life. Men still drink themselves to death, even though everywhere around them they see the horrible effects of excessive drinking. Human beings see the world-wide effect of vice, yet they say, “Who cares for consequences? We’ll take a chance. This is what we want, our passion, our lust, our intemperance, and to hell with the consequences!””

TOUGH PROBLEM

The facts were sufficiently obvious to draw quick acquiescence from the young couple. Anyone who had even slight experience with human folly knew how men, and women, too, went after what they wanted and threw to the winds all consideration of consequences.

Father Hall went on.

“Now the Church is-we may put it this way-a very peculiarorganization. It is dealing not only with man’s intellect, as science does. Nor does it deal merely with man’s emotions, as most religions do. A scientist can teach his class that (x + y) squared = x squared + 2xy + y squared. He can demonstrate that a certain chemical formula is the cause of the crimson light seen in some distant stars. The students nod approvingly and leave the classroom, and that is that. The students don’t have to do anything because or as a result of these things being true; they don’t have to be kinder or purer or more unselfish.

“Most religions give their members a pleasant sermon and some nice music. If the preacher is eloquent, the church is crowded. If the music is good, the congregation is thrilled. But if the preacher starts to wade into questions like divorce, birth-control, the sins of the members of the congregation, he is not likely to be too popular. And there are great religions, like Moslemism and Hinduism, that make almost no personal demands upon their followers. In fact, some of those religions take for granted the existence of solid human vices, like revenge. sexual laxity, hatred of the stranger, and of those of a different race or caste.

PRACTICE DEMANDED

“The Church is not an ethical-culture society conducting classes in abstract truths or aesthetic entertainment. It’s a tough organization demanding a lot of hard things of its members. The Church says, “You have to believe in one Father in heaven”; and then she immediately adds, “So get rid of that hatred that you feel in your heart for any human being; all men are your brothers, and you must treat them as such.” She says, “Follow the pure Christ”; and she immediately adds the conclusion, “And note that adjective pure; that means for you no adultery, no impurity of thought or conduct, no divorce, no birthcontrol.” She says, “Personal property is to be regarded as a sacred trust; it belongs to God; it is given to help you on your way to eternity; but you are merely the steward of that property, and God will demand a careful account of the use to which you put it.” Hardly has she finished saying this when she adds, “hence no theft, no grafting, no using of money to crush your weaker brother, no exploitation, no oppression of the workingman, no injustice.”

“The Church bravely and with sublime and often apparently unfounded optimism goes on making terribly difficult demands.

“She persistently asks lazy men to do heroic things. She asks selfish human beings to be unselfish. She asks mere mortals to be like Christ . . . to be like God.

OPTIMISM

“Knowing that she makes such great demands, I am not surprised at her frequent failures. I must confess that I am amazed at her recurrent success.

“After nineteen hundred years or more of pretty bitter and disillusioning experience the Church holds to her unfaltering belief in humanity. She has never lowered her standards as a concession to weak mortality. She has never dropped her ideals merely because men and women found it hard to gain them in entirety. Optimistically, the Church goes on believing that individual men can advance to heroic heights; that humanity can constantly improve; that the human race, whose visible life is bounded by the two blacknesses, can rise to a supernatural destiny in which, endlessly happy, men will do God-like things in a Godlike way under the approving smile of God, their Father.”

DESPITE HUMANITY

Ford shook his head a trifle despairfully.

“That’s really expecting a lot from us poor human critters,” he said. “After all, the obvious fact is that we are selfish, greedy, lustful, easily discouraged, dreadfully lazy. . . .”

“And,” added Helen, “proud and conceited and snooty.”

“Granted,” replied the priest. “And that is exactly why the Church is at once magnificent and doomed to constant failure. For the Church is realistic. She knows all about human failures, defects, deficiencies. And yet, knowing that, she does not abandon men to their low ideals. She doesn’t say, “Oh, well! after all they are just human beings with strong leanings to the animal side. Let’s let “em have their way. They’re naturally passionate, so we’ll say that illicit passion isn’t really so important. They seem to be bent oncoveting their neighbours” wives, so we’ll blink our eyes and admit that divorce is necessary for the modern man and woman. When a man is hurt, he naturally strikes back hard and viciously; so we’ll stop preaching human forgiveness and say, “We don’t blame you a bit, if, when he hits you, you hit him back.” And, after all, there is a difference between petty stealing and a big corporation’s crushing out its small competitors, or a powerful nation’s annexing a defenceless neighbour; so we’ll say that those things are all right, and in that way we’ll keep directors and dictators happy and friendly.”

HOLDING TO IDEALS

“The amazing part of the Church’s attitude is that she clings to her ideals and keeps on telling faltering, backsliding, lazy, often vicious human beings that they can reach those ideals, in fact, that they not merely can but must reach them.

“I personally don’t know what would happen to the world if the Church ever stopped clinging to her belief in human beings. If, like the Communist, she said, “Human beings are just animals; you can expect only animal morality from them; you’re a fool if you trust them to run even a small business. . . . “ Or if, like the Nazi, she said, “Just a few people are capable of reaching high ideals. The rest are unfit for any of the privileges of civilization-the vote, the right to own property, the opportunity for education. . . . “ If, like the modern atheist, she said, “Men are beasts and the brothers of beasts; don’t be surprised when you find that their lusts are beastly and they fight it out in the jungle competition of big business and on the battlefield. . . . “ If, like most of Protestantism, she declared, “Of course, Christ condemned impurity, divorce, neglect of religious duties. Of course, He commanded faith in His doctrines, in the spirit of penance, of selfcontrol. But, after all, you can’t ask such hard things of these moderns. They’d stop coming to church. . . . “

“No; despite failure and collapse all around her, the Church says, “These are my ideals because they were the ideals of Christ. Unless I continue to hold them up before men’s eyes, men will look, not to the stars, but to the gutter. Unless I keep reminding them that they are destined for a place with the angels, men will act like animals. Unless I ask hard things of them, they will do the easy, shiftless, criminal things that mean the collapse of the whole world.” “

NO PROBLEMS BARRED

Father Hall knocked the ashes out of his pipe, filled it, and held it expectantly in his hand.

“Another reason why the Church fails,” he continued, “is because she will tackle any sort of job, any kind of person.

Some religions -there is no use in being unpleasantly specific-won’t accept anyone as a member until he has proved that he will be a good member. Some religions want only the fashionable, the better-circumstanced to make up their congregation. Some religions throw out any member that won’t live up to their principles.

“But the Catholic Church will accept any sort of person that wants her help and the principle s and practices of her founder. She will work with a nonentity, with the poor, with the stupid, the backward, the stubborn. She will take back again and again the lustful who is sorry for his sins. She doesn’t throw out the drunkard, though his sins may cause her to weep over him. She regards the sinner with compassionate eyes, and when he comes stumbling home, she welcomes him with motherly arms.

BACKWARD

“The Church will tackle the most backward nations, and she has done so throughout history. She will go right down into the bush and start to work on a race of head-hunters, with the same optimistic confidence that she showed when she walked for the first time into pagan Rome. She’ll go into a country that is deep, deep in hereditary and habitual vice and cruelty and undertake the herculean task of cleaning up.

“You must remember that Protestantism took over countries on which the Church had worked for centuries. Before the Church began the conversion of the people of those countries, cruelty and violence had been the national rule. Mercy was unknown. Democracy was not even an ideal, or, if it did exist in isolated sections, it existed only for the very, very few. Protestantism took over a world already civilized and learned in Christian virtue. Protestantism has never yet tackled a land that had to be taught Christian principles from the ground up, (except in some isolated Pacific islands where it was looking over its shoulder to see how much progress the Catholic missionaries were making). Even in India and in China the Protestant missionaries came only long after Catholic priests had been at work there.

“So, if you want the example of a real job, recall what the Church has attempted and accomplished in pagan countries. The Church asked libertines to be pure. She asked tyrants to be merciful. She urged charity upon the rich. She asked the bravado hot on his vendetta to lay aside his dagger. She asked the slave-owner to remember that his slave was his equal in the eyes of God and the Church. She undertook, in other words” the apparently impossible task of revolutionizing human conduct on the basis of new and humanly difficult principles.

THE CHURCH MEETS SEX

“Several years ago I was working on a rather odd assignment, one that brought me in contact with a quiet little scholar. From his almost prissy appearance you’d not guess that he was the author of a book on sex and religion. But he was, and he brought me a copy of the book, and I thumbed through it. I doubt whether the man was a Christian; certainly he was in no sense an orthodox Christian. And for that reason I found the thesis in his book most interesting.

“No religion, he maintained, until the coming of Christianity-by which, of course, he meant early Christianity, which was the Catholic Church-had ever demanded personal purity of its members. Uniquely Christianity expected its members to lead sexually pure lives, to respect the institution of marriage, to refrain from divorce, to aspire to the ideals of virginity exemplified by Christ and by Mary and taught by St. Paul.

“I am not sure how completely correct his thesis was. But I certainly know that the Moslem was encouraged to have four wives; the Hindu saw no connection between religion and personal purity; the Jew might be strict about adultery, but he was pretty casual about divorce. I sighed when I read the book, for right there was one of the big reasons why the Catholic Church recurrently fails. She asks her members to be pure, and the plain fact of the matter is that purity is a lot to ask of human beings, whether that purity be virginity outside of marriage, fidelity in marriage, or loyalty to one wife or husband.

WHO CARES?

“A friend of mine, recently returned from Soviet Russia, was talking about conditions there. “There is just one sin,” he said, “that I could discover in Russia: disloyalty to the party and injustice to a fellow party member. If a man or a woman is not guilty of that sin, he or she is a good Communist. Nobody there worries if Jake sleeps with Minnie tonight and with Susie tomorrow night. Your personal morality is your private affair.”

“Of course, moral laxity there went so far, as we all remember, that women were married, so-called, to several successive men in the course of a week. Sex morality was disdained by a good working Communist. I might say that from what I see of many an American Communist the same is true here.

IN THE WAY

“Now, if I seem to be belabouring this point, it is simply because I know literally hundreds of people who would become Catholics tomorrow if it weren’t for some mixed-up marriage, some strong urge toward lax personal conduct. Catholic faith is beautiful; Catholic devotions are charming; Catholic practice is doggone hard. And the Church insists that faith, devotion, and practice all have to be accepted by a Catholic.

“If we could repeal the Sixth Commandment, modify the Church’s strict attitude toward marriage, give permission for the practice of artificial birthcontrol, we’d double the membership in the Catholic Church inside of a generation. Very few Catholics would fall away. Millions would join our ranks.”

Father Hall finally lighted his pipe. The other two sat thinking. With all honesty they could recall plenty of their own acquaintances that fell into the class of which Father Hall was speaking. Sex purity was certainly a stumbling block to many a man. A scrambled marriage kept many a woman out of the Church. And of the fallen-away Catholics they personally knew, quite too many were loose livers, involved in some slightly queer marriage, or frequently loud in their denunciation of the Church because she was so strait-laced, strict, and, as far as sex and marriage are concerned, centuries behind the times.

LOOK FOR THE WOMAN

“Whenever a young Catholic drops away from the Church,” he said, “I start looking around for the woman involved.

She’s not always there. But she usually is there.”

“Oh!” cried Helen. “Are you blaming us women for everything?”

Father Hall held up a restraining hand.

“And when,” he continued, “a young woman leaves the Church, I”m pretty sure she is involved with some man to whom the Church would have to say a regretful but emphatic no.”

Again they laughed. It was just one of those self-evident things that they themselves had noticed without knowing they were noticing it.

OPPOSITION

“There is, however, another explanation for the Church’s failures, an explanation that history makes very clear. You see every generation is simply filled with people that are determined that the Church will not succeed. And they are a surprisingly varied and amazingly energetic lot of people.

“There are always the ignorant, whose name continues to be legion. The mobs of Roman days were whipped to a frenzy of resentment by being told that the Christians ate, in cannibalistic fashion, a little child at their love feast, thereby distorting our teaching that at the Eucharist we consume the Body of Christ. Nero pointed to the Christia ns and said, “They burned Rome!” And out the ignorant mob scuttled to get the hated Christians.

“Moslem mothers used the word Christian to scare their babies: “The Christians will get you if you don’t look out.” Calles, in Mexico, pointed to the Church and assured the poor peon that there was his most vicious enemy. The demagogues have always played the mob against the Church, and they still do.

IGNORANCE

“We Catholics never cease to be dumb-founded at the ignorance of millions of our sworn enemies. The men who were foiled by the K.K.K. (the Ku Klux Klan) were in the main a vastly ignorant lot. That same type is now sucked into the Judge Rutherford group now known as the Jehovah Witnesses. The things they believe about Catholics actually fill their books with the most incredible ravings. Their capacity for swallowing in large doses things that we laugh at when we hear them seems to be simply unlimited.

“They still think that we priests wear birettas to hide horns. They’re positive that all convents are filled with dungeons for naughty nuns. They caricature our beliefs until we are ready to roar with laughter, and we would laugh if it weren’t so tragic. And, naturally, being utterly ignorant of the Church and entirely misled about what she holds and does, they have sworn by mighty oaths that the Church shall not succeed.

“Millions like that are being trained by the ridiculous museums of religion in Soviet Russia or anywhere else Communism is seeking to gain a foothold such as in rural China or Vietnam. Hundreds of thousands of Mexican school children in this year of Our Lord of 1940 are being fed a diet of lies about the Church, lies that they’ll probably never quite outgrow. But such was the diet of Protestants for generations in the past. Such it is for many of them today.

OPEN FOES

“You’ve only to glance through your histories to see the long record of individual men who have determined that they will never-no; not so long as they have strength to fight her-let the Church succeed. Often they have been sworn enemies of the Church. Too frequently they have been false friends.

“Nero and Diocletian set the standard for hating and fighting the Church. You may be sure that though their persecutions gave the Church uncounted martyrs, others in large numbers fell away because they couldn’t face social exile, loss of jobs, death under torture.

“Mohammed and his followers were consecrated to smash the Church. It seemed at times that they would succeed. A long line of rulers that followed Arius, the renegade and heretical priest, actually drove the Pope out of Rome. The Huns, Attila andTotila boasted that they would stable their horses in St. Peter’s, and they almost made good their boast. Henry VIII and Gustavus Adolphus waged open war on the Church.

WAR TODAY

“The men today who have made open war upon the Church are among the world’s most important-Hitler and Stalin, for example. The tradition of beating down the Church with machine gun and firing squad, a tradition begun by Calles of Mexico, is continued in Mexico by Cardenas in far more subtle and effective fashion. He kills in the souls of children any love they may have for the Church and marks the Church as their vicious, relentless enemy.

“But Bertrand Russell, too, wages open war on the Church. So does H. G. Wells. So, in Europe, did Anatole France, and, more cleverly, James Joyce. So does that great army of pagan writers in every nation who follow the lead of Voltaire in calling the Church an infamous thing that must be destroyed. That their cleverness, added to the force of her other enemies, hasn’t destroyed the Church long since is to me one of the strong proofs of her divinity. Today the libraries of the world are filled with books whose dynamite is meant to blow the Church to bits. Some of it is as stupid as, but more malevolent than, the hill-billies who read it. Some of it is as clever as Zola and Mark Twain.

TRAITORS

“Open enemies are bad. But I sometimes wonder whether false friends haven’t done the Church more harm than those enemies have done. Certainly many of the mediaeval kings were determined that the Church should never cramp their tyranny or hold them back from unjust wars. They pretended to be Catholics, and they drugged churchmen with gold and luxury. That type always has existed. It exists today. From the false friend, O Lord, deliver us!

“Then don’t forget that besides individuals there are great groups vowed to keep the Catholic Church from succeeding. The synagogue of St. Peter’s early days would not listen to any word of Christ and His Church. Militant followers of the religion of Mohammed spent centuries in war on the Church. By the way, has it ever occurred to you to stop to think what would have happened to our world if militant followers of Mohammed had succeeded? How would you like to be a vassal of the Ottoman Turks, Ford? Your independent spirit, Helen, wouldn’t have had the ghost of a chance in a harem.

“Every heresy that marked the history of the Church represented an enormous group of men who were determined that the Church should not succeed. Most of these heresies are now frayed and faded historical curiosities. In their day they were strong and relentless factors directed to the destruction of the Church.

“Today anti-Catholic groups are numerous and strong.

MODERN FOES

“Communism is militant in its war on the Church. Militant Socialism destroys the Church wherever it gains force. Militant atheism is a world power in Soviet Russia and a deadly force in “Red” China, with apostles and a literature and money and the vowed purpose of wiping out Catholicity. The grand Orient lodge of the Masons-”

“Father,” interrupted Ford, protesting, “I know lots of fine, sincere Masons who haven’t a thought of attacking the Church.”

“So do I,” said Father Hall. “I”m talking about the great Masonic bodies that made war on the Church in France, in Portugal, in Italy, in Mexico and Central America, and in a dozen other countries.

“And has it ever occurred to you to notice what strange groups join bands and become allies when it’s a question of beating down the Church? We Catholics know that any attack on the Church wins the sympathy of people who have no other thing in common with the attackers but that antipathy against the Church. When the Reds in Spain were shooting priests, burning and pillaging churches and raping nuns during and before the recent traumatic Civil War, scarcely a nonCatholic voice was raised in protest. And the list of men who sympathized with Red Spain was studded with Protestant bishops, ministers, and religious leaders, along with anarchists, Communists, Socialists, atheists and frank God-haters. Why? Well, the triumph of Red Spain would have meant the martyrdom of the Church there, probably her end. That was enough to inspire the allied sympathy of various groups that, on any other grounds, would have been sworn eternal enemies of one another.”

“That’s true,” said Ford. “I”ve often been surprised myself at the wide variety of people who don’t like the Church.”

“We sometimes admit,” said the priest, “that we are complimented in our enemies. But remember: The Church is always a minority group. It is not easy for a minority group to continue to exist without some failures, particularly when such a group is struggling against varied, powerful, and relentless foes.”

FORCE DEFENDS

Again Father Hall paused for a second before he continued.

“At the present moment,” he said, “the world is getting ready for another war. It looks very much as if that war is going to settle once and for all the question of whether dictatorship of the fascistic and communistic stamp will succeed or democracy prevail.”

“I hope,” said Ford, with suppressed intensity, “that if dictatorship wins I”11 be dead on some nice, comfortable battlefield.”

“Move over,” said Helen; “I”11 want to join you.”

“Then we agree,” asked the priest, smiling, “that democracy is to your mind clearly the finer form of government?”

“Certainly!” Ford almost shouted.

“What an absurd question!” sniffed Helen.

“You’d be willing to fight and die for the blessings that come with democracy?” “Certainly!”

“Absolutely!”

Said Ford, in an afterthought, “I suppose that is a matter of plain fact, I”11 have to fight.” Father Hall leaned back, his point already made.

FIGHTING FOR THE SELF-EVIDENT

“That’s all most interesting,” he said. “Here’s democracy, bringing as it does freedom of opportunity, human dignity, peace, justice under the law to all men. It’s a glorious ideal, a wonderful form of government.”

“The best we have found so far,” nodded Ford.

“Yet we are getting ready to fight for it, roll out our tanks, and warm up our planes, and rattle our machine guns, and muster our moneymen, and ships to defend it against men who call it the world’s stupidest form of government, who want to wipe it from the earth, and who are determined that they will do just that.”

“Just let “em try!” said Helen.

“They never will succeed,” added Ford.

“But you think there’ll be a hot battle first?” asked Father Hall.

“Unless there’s some amazing and totally unexpected accident or piece of luck-yes.”

Ford and Helen were clearly in agreement.

“Well,” said Father Hall, “here’s democracy, a glorious thing, and we’re going to have to fight to the death on battlefield, sea, and in air in order to save it. Doesn’t it strike you as a little surprising that for twenty centuries and in the face of the most powerfully organized forces-the armies of the Moslems and those of the German princes, the Vandals of Geiseric and Huneric seduced by the errors of Arius, the bandits of Mexico’s Calles, the storm troopers of Hitler, the Red Army of Stalin, and unnumbered others-the Church has had to wage war . . . without an army or a navy . . . and has always ultimately won?”

“How about the Crusaders?” demanded Ford. “How about the armies of the Catholic kings after the Reformation?”

ALMOST WITHOUT DEFENCE

“Sometimes,” said the priest, “Catholics did organize armies to defend the Church, which they think at least as important as we Americans think democratic government. But those cases are rare. Throughout most of history the Church had to meet her armed, ruthless enemies-as she certainly has to meet them today-with no arms and no real way of enforcing her law. Always the Papal States were a weak little nation. Today the Church has none of those forces on which the enemies of democracy count to beat democracy and on which we democrats count to save it. The Church has no police, no secret service, no army, no navy. There are no courts before which traitors can be called for any but spiritual punishments.

“We feel that we have to fight for our democratic ideals, and when we have to, we do fight. But the Church has had to struggle along without the ability really to fight. Today, as throughout the major portion of history, the Church has recourse only to threats. She can excommunicate traitors, who probably have already left the Church. She can warn them that they will lose their souls, but they probably have ceased to believe in souls. She can warn them of the danger of eternal damnation-if they still admit that there is a hell.

“If things so self-evident as the blessings of democracy will be lost unless men are ready to fight for them, isn’t it a little noteworthy that the difficult things, which are the ideals of the Catholic Church, always attacked, always riddled and ridiculed, always under fire, have prevailed and today still prevail, despite the Church’s complete lack of any physical force with which to whip her enemies?

THAT’S WHY

“And are you surprised that her powerfully armed and physically strong enemies, like Red Russia and Red Mexico and dark brown Germany under the boot of the Nazis, for a time seem to succeed?

“When you’re counting the failures of the Church, do try to remember the miracle of her success-unarmed and usually undefended-against the armies and hordes of spies and traitors who have at their disposal every conceivable human means to wipe the Church from the face of the earth.

“And don’t be surprised if through cowardice and fear a Catholic leaves the Church when a machine gun points at the pit of his stomach or a concentration camp is the threat to his wife and children.”

SMALL WORLDS

Again the priest paused, as if collecting his thoughts. He was, as a matter of fact, searching in his memory for cases. Not that cases were difficult to recall; the difficulty was in the selecting of a few cases from the many that clamoured for attention.

“Somewhere, we all recall, man was called a microcosm.”

“Isn’t he just that?” agreed Helen. “A little world, a world in miniature.”

“That’s why, I suppose, from the study of an individual man we can learn a great deal about the whole world. The world repeats in magnified, multiplied style the history of individual men and women.”

Again Father Hall paused. The two young people looked curious.

“This,” prompted Ford, “is, of course, prelude to something?”

The priest nodded.

“I have personally known the Church to fail in many, many cases,” he continued. “I wonder whether, if we looked at some of those cases, you couldn’t see why it is that sometimes the Church fails with whole nations, as she sometimes fails with large groups of people.”

Unconsciously they leaned forward, as people do when the conversation becomes factual and deeply personal.

“This is interesting,” said Helen, quietly.

And Ford, “We’re certainly listening, Father.”

LET’S LOOK AT CASES

“Well,” said the priest, “let’s take case number one: a young man, educated in Catholic schools, clever, attractive, well established in life. He comes to see me about a young woman in whom he’s interested. We talk about her for a bit, and then he says, “I might as well tell you, Father: She’s been married before.”

“We go over the Catholic position on the subject of divorce, but I know that as I talk the face of that young woman stands between us. The young man isn’t hearing what I say. He is hearing only the beating of his own love-tossed heart, and the voice of the woman calling him.

“Within a short time after our visit he marries her, and the Church has failed in his case.

“There’s a second case. This young man is of old Irish Catholic stock. He’s a naturally clever business man, and he finds that he has the Midas touch. By the time he is twenty-five years old, he has made his first million. At forty he is the head of an enormous steel mill. He’s very busy now. He hasn’t time for Mass. He is engrossed in making money, and more money. Then there is trouble in the mill. He is, truth to tell, paying his employees criminally low wages. He hears from the Bishop, who expresses himself as on the side of the strikers. Furiously the man cries out, “I”11 run my business as I want to run it, and no Bishop or Pope can tell mehow.” He wins the strike, but he is a Catholic no more.

MORE PERSONAL HISTORY

“The third case is a woman. She comes into the parlour late one evening. Her hands twist the handkerchief she holds, and her mouth is drawn with pain as she tells her story. She is a secretary, and she has fallen in love with her employer.

But he is married and has no intention of facing the scandal that would come with a divorce.

““But I love him,” she says. “I”ve been living with him. I can’t give him up, and he can’t give me up.” “We thrash it all out-the consequences to her future, to her soul, to his family. She sees all that. But passion is too strong. When she leaves me, I know that the Church has failed in her case, for she is leaving her faith, too. “The fourth case is a young woman who goes away to a State university. She is clever; but as far as her religion is concerned, she knows only the simplest fundamentals. Her favourite professor in her sophomore year is a brilliant and attractive young psychologist. Ironically, though gently, he riddles her faith. He shows her, or he seems to show her, that she has no soul at all, so how can she possibly talk about saving it? He gives her books against her religion, though she has read almost no books in favour of it. She notices how many of the professors at the university have no religion, and how gracefully dignified the chapel services can be without any real faith or the Real Presence.

“She always means to consult a priest, but she is not sure that she can find one so clever and attractive as her professor.

She really wants to read up on the Catholic side of the question but she has to read assigned books for classes, and she really has no time for other reading.

“She ends by giving up her faith, whose teaching she never really knew, because she never troubled to get the answers to arguments against that faith. The Church has failed in her case.

STILL OTHERS

“This family, my next case, has made money recently and rapidly. They have a growing son and daughter, and their one ambition is to give them the very best that life can offer. Now, the mother notices that the majority of Catholics are not in the social register and that the majority in the social register are decidedly not Catholics. So she sends her son and daughter off to fashionable schools, where they have no chance to get to Mass; where the only references to religion are made condescendingly and with amusement; where they will be likely to meet, fall in love with, and marry delightful young pagans. And since the Catholic religion is most assuredly unfashionable, they will probably drop it out of their lives.

“The next case is very simple. The young man is determined to make money, and lots of it. But he notices that in his particular line of business the big jobs and the important salaries go to men who wear the scimitar and belong to the proper Masonic lodges. He talks the matter over with some of his Masonic friends, who point out quite logically that Masons cannot be blamed if they are loyal to their own and a little cold to outsiders. He knows that joining the Masons means leaving the Church. But remaining in the Church isn’t making him the money he wants; joining the Masons will make him that money. The Church fails completely in his case.

LAZY . . . PROUD

“The young actor that I knew failed very easily, too. He played late on Saturday nights, and to get himself to Mass the next morning was a plain nuisance. So was abstaining from meat on Fridays as we Catholics do as a little penance to honour the day Our Lord died for us, especially when he was on the road. And he couldn’t take that fat part in that smutty musical comedy and still go to Holy Communion. So he shrugged his shoulders. Later on he would undoubtedly come back to the Church. When there was a Catholic benefit, he’d be delighted to donate his services. But religion was a little too much a burden, and he had to give it up . . . at least for the years of his theatrical success.

“Then there was the stubborn young fellow. I never knew anyone else who could set his jaw so hard when he heard an order. Any sort of order made him furious. He was brilliant, one of the most brilliant young fellows I”ve ever known. But he hated authority, and all that anyone had to do was to give him an order, and his spine stiffened with pride in the most visible resistance.

“He got out into the world, and the orders of the Church began to grate irritatingly. He didn’t like the Pope’s speaking out on business and politics. He was furious when he ran into the Church’s legislation on birth control. He thought the parish priest a stupid old fool, and the sermons to which he had to listen made him physically sick. He began to feel that his religion was a handicap to a successful man, so he soft-pedalled his Catholicity. He wondered whether he was too big to practise it. By Jove! he really didn’t need it. The Church failed in his case, and failed because he was too big for this medieval institution.

THE ENORMOUS DIME

“And so it goes for each little microcosm, each little man and woman. The Church fails as far as they are concerned. But really the Church is not the one that fails. They fail. Lust, passion, money, pride, laziness, society-those mean more to them than do their souls, the ideals of the Church, Christ Himself. So it is they who fail. The Church goes her serene way.”

“Yet it seems strange,” Ford objected. “If the motives of religion are so strong, if the beautiful faith of the Church is so compelling-”

Father Hall dived into his pocket and pulled out a dime.

“Remember the dime and how it can get between your eye and the enormous sun?

“Remember the man who finds the love of some unworthy woman more important than real success in life, than the calm beauty of his wife’s love, than his children? Remember the fellow who in hot blood lust kills and then has to live through all the hell of trial, prison, and execution? Remember the millions of people who spend their lives struggling for things that you and I think unworthy of a single lazy gesture?

HERE AND NOW

“The immediate urge of passion is always terrific in its power. The glitter of money is hypnotic. The present advantage weighs down the balance when the other factor holds some advantage that won’t, let’s say, come till after death. Oh, the mind is so terribly lazy when it comes to struggling after truth.

““The world is too much with us,” Wordsworth said, in another connection. Today’s good time seems so much more attractive than tomorrow’s eternal happiness.”

Father Hall grew serious, as he always did when he was talking to these young people. He leaned forward a little in his chair.

HE FAILED, TOO

“Yes,” he said, quietly; “the Church fails again and again. In that, as in all else, she is very like her Founder and her

Head, Jesus Christ. I suppose you could tell me, without my having to repeat it, the story of His apparent failure.” Helen nodded. “That’s world history,” she agreed.

“Well, remember now: That failure was made by a man so attractive that, seen through the inverted telescope of twenty centuries and met in the pages of four slim little Gospels, He is still the world’s most attractive, most charming man. “There is no gesture in His life that is not beautiful, consoling, blessingfull. There is no word of His that isn’t remarkably vivid, gripping, thought-provoking. He commanded health as no man has ever done. He went about doing good. What man, He challenged them, could justly accuse Him of sin?

“And in the end the whole world of His time rose up and killed Him.

WHY HIS DEATH?

“The mob had been misled. Their leaders had lied about Him to such an extent that the people laughed with joy when

He was nailed to a cross.

“The priests didn’t want Him. His success meant the end of their proud position of leadership, and they had no intention of giving that up-no; not even to the Son of God Himself.

“The buyers and sellers in the Temple didn’t want Him. He had messed up their business once or twice before, when

He drove them out of the stalls and from behind the money tables. He was bad for business.

“Herod looked into His pure eyes and knew that if he followed the leadership of this innocent leader he would have to give up his incestuous wife and look no more on the shameless dance of that wife’s daughter.

“Pilate wanted to befriend an obviously innocent man. But if he did, he would sacrifice the friendship of Caesar, and his career would be over. And as he was a career diplomat . . .

“Judas had spent three years in His company. But he had expected that as treasurer of the company he would carry a full purse. Evidently the mission of Christ was as empty as was the purse. Well, thirty pieces of silver were better that nothing, so . . .

“The soldiers flung Him down on the Cross. Cruelty was a matter of routine with them. A victim was a victim.

Where’s the hammer? Hand me those nails.

LIKE HIM

“So the greatest man that ever lived died a failure. Of course, He had not failed. Bu t the weaknesses and sins of men had come between them and Him, and they decided that death was the only thing He deserved.

“Well, if ever the Church grows too successful, I shall worry. If ever men of sin start to love her and dictators and tyrants to coddle her and the lustful to find her ideals palatable, and the selfish to admire her unselfish commands, I shall wonder what has happened. She will cease to be like her Master, Christ. She will, for that matter, cease to be like all the world’s great benefactors, for whom the world has always reserved its dungeons, its racks, its stakes.

LONG-RANGE VIEW

“And remember this: There is always the long-range and the short-range view of history. Seen at short range, with regard to this one man or that rebellious nation, the Church may seem to fail. But over the long course of history, in her influence on humanity, in what she does for all the nations of civilization and for those outside civilization’s pale, she does not fail. She never will fail.

“I advise you to look at the Church from that long-range view. Triumphant enemies rise and crow in victory. But they swiftly disappear. Tyrants are sure that they have crushed the Church; time proves them stupidly wrong. One highly publicized Catholic falls away. Faith is born in the souls of a hundred others, of whom nobody ever hears. This Catholic nation loses the faith. The faith comes to some remote tribe in Africa.

“Christ died, and the triumphant march of Christianity had just begun.

“The Church fails, and her conquest of souls for Christ continues uninterruptedly.

“And somehow, Ford, and you, Helen, I”ve a feeling that where you are concerned the Church will in the end not fail.”

“I wonder,” said Ford.

But Helen was silent.

* * * * * * * *

The Church Is Out of Date

BY REV. DANIEL A. LORD, S.J

INDEX

LET any group of confessedly modern people gather in one spot, and, whatever their private quarrels and personal disagreements, in this one thing they will heartily agree: The Catholic Church is a nice old museum piece that would look best stuffed.

The Church is an interesting antique, perhaps, but as part and parcel of this stream-line, go-as-fast-as-you-please, set-your-own-pace age, it is an ox-cart blocking traffic at Fifth Avenue and the Park, a lantern-slide lecture on the Holy Land trying to compete with the latest super-special film in colour and sound, smoke-signalling in an age of television.

Now few things give people a more contented feeling of superiority than to decide once and for all that the Church is as dead as a megalosaurus and as out of fashion as scale armour. Something pleasantly final flavours the sentence which dismisses the Church from all serious consideration: “No doubt it served its uses in another and simpler age; but every intellectual man and woman realises that the Church is almost painfully out of date.”

And that’s that. Only. . . .

It turns out that that isn’t that. To quite general annoyance, the Church, obtuse to polite dismissals, goes on existing. Admittedly defunct, it has a way of turning up at most disconcerting times and in most exasperating fashion to protest that it is very much alive. In fact, it persists in looking exasperatingly content and perfectly at ease in the most modernesque surroundings. And that is plainly against nature.

For a corpse the Church is quite athletic. For a dodo, it is surprisingly according to the fashion. Either it has found a fountain of youth or it is a singularly robust ghost that will not, in the face of scepticism and conjuring, permit itself to be put down.

ALWAYS MISSTATED

Now if you who flip open the first pages of this booklet are not a Catholic, let me start with a statement which you will undoubtedly not believe: Almost everything you have ever been told about the Church is wrong. And one of the things you have most frequently been told is that the Church is perhaps history’s most notable remains. Practically everything else that you have heard is also incorrect. For the amount of misinformation that is retailed about the Catholic church would fill a complete un-Catholic Encyclopedia.

If you are a Catholic, you will do well, in talking with your non-Catholic friends and associates, to remember that almost everything they believe with greatest assurance about the Church is altogether incorrect. Not that they are deliberately in error, but that they have been deliberately mis-taught. They have not usually refused to see the facts; they have never been permitted to see them, or have been offered as facts the most outrageous flights of human fancy and imagination.

UNKNOWN LAND

The Catholic Church is far less familiar to the average well-educated modern than are the more esoteric rites of the witch doctors of African bush tribes. The heart of the Church is the world’s real terra incognita compared with which the jungles of Paraguay are congested thoroughfares.

For certainly nothing is less known and studied than that which people have discourteously or politely decided is not worth knowing or studying. Nothing could be less visited or more sparsely trodden by explorers than some island which mariners by common consent have agreed long since dropped below the surface of the ocean. Certainly it would be a magnificent waste of time to set out to explore an island that long ago was submerged.

So, in the professedly modern circles, the Church is not given any consideration. It is not known except as an historic curiosity, surviving as might some ancient and withered Turk of uncertain years and dubious ancestry. Mithraic rituals and Sleuserian mysteries, obeah and voodoo rites and Persian sun worship, these things are occasionally studied by the savant. The Catholic Church generally remains outside the reaches of both common interest and elevated scholarship.

WRONG IN PRAISE

And yet . .

Well, for a dead and dusty thing, the Church has the most surprising way of forcing itself into the focus of attention. Its surprising recurrence demands explanation. One has to say things about the Church to explain why anything so dead could be so alive. So it is discussed. Things are said about it continuously. And what is said is uniformly wrong.

The Church is praised for things which it regards as of little interest or certainly as of entirely secondary importance. It is praised for its masterful organization, while all the time it is interested in individual human souls. It is praised quite romantically for the beauty of its ritual, while personally, so to speak, the Church is worrying about the instruction of the children of the poor. It gets high praise for its art and for its humanitarian hospital system, while it is troubled that men will not accept some quite outlandish doctrine about a mystical union in the body of a God made man.

WRONG IN BLAME

In the same fashion the Church is blamed for things it never did and never dreamed of doing, and is criticized for teaching things which all the time it regards as shocking and abhorrent and never for a moment taught. It is accused of opposing democracy, of loving riches, of holding the divine right of kings, or thwarting the expansion and experiments of science, of assuming an ostrich attitude towards the problems and difficulties and objections raised against its position and its teaching by advancing and undulating thought.

It finds attributed to itself the most absurd teachings, many of which it immediately condemned when first taught by its enemies: that all who are not Catholics, for example, are damned to hell; that unbaptised infants suffer eternally; that the marriages of non-Catholics are not true marriages at all; that the Pope can’t possibly sin; that it’s quite right, if not actually excellent and commendable, to choke pagan and heretical babies in their cradles; that the world was created in six working days that started at midnight Monday and ended with the midnight that divided Saturday from Sunday.

OBSOLETE

But loudest of all is the cry raised about it and dinned into its consciousness that it is quite out of date. And who of us, either as a person or an institution, wants to be considered to be out of date?

Now the Catholic with a sense of humour regards all this as acutely funny, even if it is remarkably wrong. The perfect retort of anyone who really knows the Church to those who declaim its out-of-dateness is simply this: “On the contrary, the Church is as modern as the morning’s paper and as of-the-minute as tonight’s broadcast. It is far, far more of the present than any form of Protestantism; even the already senescent Christian Science. It is not nearly so obsolete as the scientific theories popular some thirty years ago. The Church is the one thing that never really becomes out of date, because it is ageless and timeless with the agelessness and timelessness which is like that of God Himself.”

In fact, any Catholic who really knows the Church grows almost impatient with those who spend too much of their time studying or praising the Church’s historic past. He feels it rather a waste of time to prod and pry back into antiquity, when he has felt the flowing vitality and intense aliveness, the marvellous grasp on present problems and the alert appreciation of current questions and difficulties and needs that make the Church of the immediate present endlessly adaptable.

WHY THE PAST?

We would be quite safe in disregarding the past. We could well focus on the Church as it is here and now. In fact we come to feel that much precious time and much significant argument is wasted on the past that could profitably be turned upon the impressive present.

Catholics, for example, can prove and have proved conclusively that the Church of the Apostolic age was essentially the same Catholic Church as it exists today. The non-Catholic who knows anything of history replies, “I suppose it was. What’s more, it was quite satisfactory for a primitive, nomadic people of those Apostolic days. But what’s that got to do with the entirely readjusted, recognized world of today?”

The Catholic can demonstrate and has demonstrated in relatively simple fashion that for twelve centuries before the Reformation, the Church was so thoroughly Catholic that had a Protestant, by some historic absurdity, strayed into England or France or Germany or Scandinavia between the third and the sixteenth centuries, he would have been regarded in the same puzzled and unrecognizing fashion with which a Buddhist monk or a medicine man of-the Australian bush would have been regarded. The non-Catholic historian retorts: “ I concede all that. What does it prove ? We left behind us the water-wheel and the wooden plough, the camel caravan and the dog-drawn cart, the quill pen and the hour-glass. Thus, too, in the march of progress, we left the Catholic Church.”

THERE WERE SPOTS

So both Catholic and educated non-Catholic could safely waive the whole matter of the past. By agreement they could forget the past and look at what the Church is doing today, offering today, believing and practising in this immediate present.

There is, for example, the whole matter of the human defects that have spotted the history of the Church. Of course the Church has been disfigured by soiled and selfish churchmen. The Church happens to be manned by the same uncertain, variable, selfish, men, part god, part fool, half hero, half clown, that staff the profession of medicine or law or statecraft or art or letters. It has had to depend upon the ministrations of criminals and dullards as well as saints and scholars, though not, thank heaven, in anything like the same number.

We could concede as black a picture of human failings as a bigot might desire. We might even deepen the shadows of the picture to bring out the remarkable fact that the Church alone of institutions has continued its way despite the faults and limitations, the crimes and ignorances of those who seemed to be responsible for its development and guidance. And we could then urge this escapable fact.

WE LIVE NOW

We live, not in the past, but in the present. It is the Church of the present which is, to the man who really knows it, gloriously satisfying. While the non-Catholic historian may study the past of the Church with generous or grudging approval and yet ignore its present; we who are Catholics are much less concerned with its past than we are with its very satisfactory present as compared with the present of societies and institutions regarded as genuinely modern.

Let’s take one instance as an example of what we mean. Time out of mind the charge has been uttered that churchmen have been violently addicted to persecution. That’s something that hangs mist-like over the past. Shifting our eyes from the rather vague past to the very clear present, we find to our amazement that the crime of persecution is an entirely non-Catholic one. Whatever is true or false of the past, we who live in the present would have a much better chance of keeping our head on our shoulders or our civil liberties in our hands or the right of free conscience in our pockets under modern Catholic domination than under the domination of those who are the Church’s most professional enemies.

WHO ARE THE PERSECUTORS?

Catholic southern Ireland is remarkably free from persecution. The cries “To hell with the Pope!” and “Down with Catholics!” are still heard in the streets of Protestant Belfast. You have a much better chance of speaking your political opinions in Catholic Belgium than you have in Nazi Germany. You can practice Lutheranism or Shintoism or Holy Rollerism in Catholic Argentina and live to tell the tale; you can’t practice the Catholic faith under an anti-Catholic Mexican Government without running the risk of looking down the shining barrels of levelled rifles.

American cities like Chicago or New York, with a predominantly Catholic population, permit Communist parades to march the streets and Soviet-loving agitators to take to their soap boxes in tax-supported public parks. Try if you have a taste for martyrdom, preaching Jesus Christ in the Red Square of Moscow. The Catholic party in Spain came into power as the result of a complete revulsion against the ruthless murder and arson that marked the savage interregnum of Spanish radicals and anti-Catholics. And historians still write with a shudder about the horrible days of obscenity, death, and tyranny when liberal, God-hating Bela Khun gripped the power that had slipped from the hands of the exiled and fairly tolerant Hapsburgs.

No. We are safe for the time in leaving the historic Church to the historian and the theologian. The Church of the present is the Church that claims attention and consideration, for under that Church must the present believer live.

ALIVE AND ALERT

That Church is certainly not dead. In fact it is more than ever alive. And it is aggressively and yet patiently concerned with the problems and needs of the modern man. It manifests an irrepressible vitality. It concerns itself with the dreams and aspirations, the needs and developments of the man of the present age.

High on the list of modern virtues, the modern man would, we feel, list self-criticism. Candour, a frank facing of one’s own limitations and need for improvement, is a prized modern quality of mind and soul. Now, I suppose it would occur to the modern to look for self-criticism almost anywhere else in the world than in the Church. That is just an instance of wrong direction.

SELF-CRITICAL

For no Protestant or unbeliever who sticks to truth and disdains the lie has ever criticised the human defects of the Church as scathingly as Catholics have done and do. Quite reasonably and with a decent family pride Catholics do not air soiled linen before the shocked eyes and offended nostrils of the neighbours. But in the social gatherings that bring priests together you could hear frank and honest criticism that would amaze the non-Catholic listener. Laymen who really love the Church will, just because of their love for it, be outspoken and almost savage in their criticism of human defects that hold back the Church’s progress.

Diocesan synods and provincial meetings of bishops, following immemorial tradition, lay frankly upon the council table the faults and shortcomings of churchmen and laity, face problems within the Church, and, with a ruthlessness that old Savanarola would admire, speak sharp truth and cut skilfully at what they regard as abuses. The atmosphere that surrounds gatherings of priests and bishops is not lush with complacent self-congratulation, but crisp and biting with self-criticism and discontent with things which are wrong, slack, inadequate or out of line.

The Catholic, of course, distinguishes clearly between the divine elements that make up the Mystical Body of Christ, which is the Church, and the dirt and squalor that may soil it. He knows it can be struck with wounds that may need the cauterising acid or the biting action of the surgeon’s scalpel; it may even show disturbing growths and lose gangrened members. In this, however, he differs from the Protestant of Reformation days. In how little, by the way, the Protestant of the time of Luther and Henry of England and Calvin and Knox agree with the Protestant of Parks Cadman and Fosdick and the Y.M.C.A.

REFORMING TO KILL

Those ruthless old rebels against the Church sought to remove the dirt and tumours and heal the wounds by pulling the flesh away from the divine Body. They jerked away great pieces that, without the divine Body to sustain them, have remained to this day limp, amorphous masses, creedless and formless, without solidity or the, Dower of thought or motion. The Council of Trent, setting the standard for the Church from its own day to ours, cut .away the sins and evils, the excretions and filth, but was not so stupid as to think one healed flesh by stripping it from the bone or cured bleeding wounds by tearing them from their connection with the heart.

The Church and its members study and, with scholarly criticism, analyse even divine revealed truth. In a critical desire for self-improvement, they are constantly searching out that particular truth which fits this particular age; that particular doctrine which solves this individual and pressing need. The Church is changeless, but its use of truth and its application of that truth to changing life is, a magnificent study.

SEEN FROM OUTSIDE

Most comment upon the Church from those outside it is, as we have indicated, almost humorously wrong. Even Catholics who give up their faith seem to lose their grasp on what the Church actually believes and does. Naturally, then, the best intentioned people muff Catholic facts and teachings and principles and viewpoints sadly. They miss those very things which the Catholic knows to be keynote and essential.

The reason for this is that they are dealing with an elaborate and exquisitely jointed system of thought and practice. From outside the Church almost everything in it is seen out of focus. The Church was never meant by its divine Founder to be viewed from a distance and from beyond high walls. It was meant to be’ seen as part of oneself, with a kind of loving intimacy. Most of all, it was never intended merely to be observed, for it was given to humanity by Jesus Christ to be lived.

DISCONTENTED

The non-Catholic taking up some slight interest in things Catholic is a little like a man with a smattering of mathematics who would happen to drop in on a class conducted by Einstein. His reports on the class later on would hardly be accurate, and would certainly not be Einstein.

Naturally, then, the non-Catholic misses even so important a point as the fact that the Church is extremely modern. And we can begin to study its modernity in its agreement with the most surprising state of mind of the most modern of men. Both the modern and the most conservative of Catholics have a great and almost passionate discontent with things as they are.

Does it seem odd that the Church should agree heartily and quite enthusiastically with the modern thinker who rails against the world as it is? Does it seem incongruous that the Catholic should not approve when the modern thinker protests that this is a most unsatisfactory world?

The modern brags of his divine discontent. Divine discontent is almost a chronic state of mind within the Catholic Church. In fact, no logical Catholic was ever otherwise than at odds with things as they are.

LEADING TO DESPAIR

We hardly need to pause on the widespread and loudly announced discontent that is characteristic of modern thinkers. At the basis of most really popular philosophies and codes of living is a deep-rooted dissatisfaction. Discontent has become something like a modern cultus, creed, and code. From the ancient philosopher, shouted down by all Catholic thinkers, who set himself to prove that this is the best of all possible worlds, the cry is far to the clamourous chorus which today sings of the world’s inadequacy, mismanagement, and general cussedness.

The important and prevailing schools of thought are rooted in discontent. Socialism and its blood-brother Communism begin with the supposition that the whole economic order is wrong and that men must hate, not only the world-wide injustices, but all men not of their class in society. Medicine, and political science labour to reconstruct imperfect bodies, human and politic. Social reform demands constant change ‘and improvement. Evolution is a dogma that supposes that the past was imperfect and that we move through painful adjustments toward a slowly bettering’ world. Modern attire sings the blues over every form of human relationship from marriage and the home to big business, government, and international relationships. The human mind is blown about on the sighs for a golden age that has never been and in all probability never will be.

Two schools of fundamental philosophy have evolved from this wide modern dissatisfaction and discontent: One group sees the world as slowly evolving toward better forms in men and society. The second group sees no hope at all as civilization whirls down the greased slide, perhaps of its own fashioning and greasing, toward collapse and the end of all. Certainly, even in your surface reading, you have not failed to note the persistent prophecies of ruin.

AGREED

The Catholic Church meets this modern dissatisfaction with man, his societies, his struggles and strivings, and, up to a certain point, concedes that there is just reason for discontent. The world is not a completely satisfactory place. Most emphatically it is not. Man is often less the world’s master than the world’s uniquely discontented animal. Everything human has about it an impermanence that should be alarming if it were not rather a symbol and a sign. The very best efforts of the very best men do not serve to make men happy nor even reasonably contented. Far from being a completely satisfactory world, the world is so definitely unsatisfactory that it cannot possibly be the ultimate creation intended by a wise and good God to content the heart and mind of the supreme creatures who dwell in it.

Sagely the Church nods its head in agreement with the man of modern discontent. Indeed this is an unsatisfactory world. But when the modern man cries “Then let us despair,” the Church replies “That is not the answer.” And it parts company with the modern in his discontent and regretfully watches him slink off to hug his gloom and wallow in his pessimism. For the Church shrewdly argues that so unsatisfactory and unsatisfying a world cries aloud for some other world to complete it and to complement it with a satisfaction and adequacy surely not found in the present scheme of things.

THE ARGUMENT FROM DISGUST

Man is a discontented animal. Most heartily the Church agrees with the modern in admitting this. But, it argues, that proves conclusively that man is not a mere animal. The animals made for earth, the cow and the dog and the sheep upon the hill, are notably content and satisfied. They belong upon earth. But man is not content either with the throne room of the palace or the exact focal point of the world’s applause or the top of a mountain of gold or the central power in a network of radiating lines of influence. Man clearly belongs elsewhere. His discontent cries aloud for a life to complete this life, for a happiness to make amends for the lacks and loneliness, the failures and collapses, the bitterness of mistakes and the ashy flavour of glory that poison the life he leads.

The Church is modern enough to follow the modern thinker in his dissatisfaction with things as they are. It will not follow him into his despair, for it keeps its clear vision of a world for which this world is the proving ground, and of a life which the Maker of all life must, in justice and mercy, have intended to be finally satisfying.

TOLERANCE

High on the list of virtues which the modern man admires is tolerance. He boasts that his mind is large enough for all truth and that his manners are suave enough to make him polite to any line of conduct not acutely destructive of general peace.

However, we note regretfully in passing that, where the Church is concerned, the tolerance of the modern seems to come a cropper. Besides, modern tolerance seems to have as its shady companion that ugly figure known as persecution.

Modern tolerance was probably born in the French Revolution to the thud of the falling guillotine blade. Liberalism in France and Portugal drove monks and nuns out of their land, and the recent brief regime of the liberals in Spain taught us bloody lessons in how illiberal liberalism could be. Communism boasts of a liberalism, and exemplifies it in a savage dictatorship, the world’s most annoying and terrifying spy system, concentration camps, and death for all who claim the liberty to disagree. Paganism has been reborn in Germany to cries of “Down with the Jews” and crushing of all political opposition and an attempted crushing of all creeds save that of the state. Mexican liberals have marched to power to the rattle of gunfire turned, not upon armed enemies, but upon priests and laymen who thought that Christ the King had still some rights in, His world. Many a man has grown to fear liberalism and professed tolerance because of the suggestion of congested prisons, the suppression of all opposition by thought or party, and a busy firing squad.

SEEING BOTH SIDES

However, we strayed from the first point intended. Anyone who knows both types of students and scholars will find the Catholic far more tolerant of the doctrines and teachings of his opponents than his opponents are of those which the Catholic holds. In fact, if tolerance is largely a matter of trying to understand the views and opinions of others and the reasons why they hold these views and opinions, tolerance may properly be said to exist only in the Catholic Church today. Intellectual tolerance is largely a Catholic monopoly. Let’s see how this can possible be.

The Catholic priest and the educated Catholic layman are given, during the course of their education, a complete and systematic course in science, philosophy, and theology. They early discover that the Church has been remarkably absorbent. It has, with discerning eye, taken into its educational system practically all that was good and sound in the culture of each age. How Aristotle and Plato were wedded to Catholic thought is traditional. Equally traditional is the absorption of Mohammedan science by Catholic scholars. The classics of ancient Rome remained for centuries in the keeping of Christian Rome. The revived Latin and Greek learning of the Renaissance was welcomed by churchmen and by Catholic scholars. The progress of art was under Catholic patronage.

OPEN-MINDED

With a continuance of the same policy, the Catholic student is presented with the best of modern thought and scientific discovery in a course that is essentially the same as that of any other student. What the patient fact-hunting of science has discovered and the literature of the age has created, the priest in training and the catholic layman in his courses are taught and expected to know.

The Catholic student does not stop with what of truth has been discovered and proved. He is given a philosophy that is different from that presented to the average non-Catholic. While even the well-instructed philosophical student in non-Catholic universities finds scholastic philosophy relegated by his classes to a few lines or brief passages, and hence goes through life almost entirely ignorant of its method of approaching truth and marshalling the universe into a logical and orderly array, the Catholic student in seminary and, in measure, in Catholic college and university, is required to pay careful consideration to other philosophies than his own.

FAIR TO FOES

Before each thesis the opinions and teaching of those who have held and hold differently are fairly stated, explained, and their main arguments presented. The Catholic student grows familiar with Descartes and Kant and Spinoza and Bergson. These men are permitted to explain their theories to him and to argue against the scholastic philosophy which he is being taught. If he is studying the freedom of the will, those who disbelieve in its freedom are allowed to give their reasons. If he is considering the possibility of human immortality, he first sees the arguments of those who oppose immortality. Even when he turns the light of reason upon the existence of God, the conflicting but insistent voices of the atheists .are permitted to urge their difficulties against the existence of a Deity.

As a result, the Catholic student of scholastic philosophy comes out of his course with a fair knowledge of other philosophies. The students of other philosophies, with surprising intolerance, dismiss scholastic philosophy with misstatement, stale sneers, and studied neglect.

FAIRNESS NOT RETURNED

The ignorance of even thinking men about what the Catholic Church teaches is to most educated Catholics the occasion of mingled alarm and amusement. It is certainly no high sign of tolerance. The non-Catholic educated world today is quite arrogantly proud of its lack of acquaintance with Catholic doctrine and practice. One reads the same old stock misstatements and misinterpretations of Catholic teaching, the same jibes: “The adoration of Mary,” “The end justifies the means,” “Catholic opposition to free institutions,” “The conflict of Church and State,” “The war between religion and science,” “Superstitious credulities,” “The Church’s concentration on the next world to the neglect of this.” And one reads them over and over until one doubts that anyone ever takes the trouble to read other than stale, third-hand rehashes of what enemies have falsely uttered in ignorance and slander. Seldom, indeed, do you meet a non-Catholic who has made the effort to reach any first-hand or important Catholic source of information about the Church. No love of decent tolerance drives the average or even the better trained non-Catholic to Catholic libraries or scholars.

Very different is the intellectual tolerance demanded of a Catholic scholar. A priest finishing his seminary course has learned more of what Luther taught than is known by many a Lutheran minister. He has gone quite thoroughly into Mrs. Eddy’s doctrines. He knows a deal more about Calvin than do most Presbyterians, who would be shocked if they found out what that stern old hater of humanity and joy really taught.

ALL SIDES

The priest in training has faced the difficulties urged by modern criticism against the Bible. He has gone quite thoroughly into the recent attacks on supernaturalism which slump together under the convenient name of Modernism. He has met Renan and Strauss and Harnack, discussed the substance of Fraser’s “ The Golden Bough,” heard Nietzsche’s reasons for rejecting Christianity, studied the symbolism of Tyrrell and Loisy, carefully investigated, not merely the scientific data, but the ethical and religious implications of the dogma of evolution, and met the current thought of Chicago University’s untheological seminary and the religious utterances from Riverside’s Baptist Church.

The Catholic scholar knows a deal about all the religions that since the days of the Gnostics have risen to claim attention. You will find that in the past and today the adherents of these religions knew and know less than nothing about the Catholic Church, for the exasperating reason that what they know was and is uniformly incorrect. The Catholic scholar pays careful attention to the findings of science. Scientists, by a kind of common consent, pay no attention to the findings of Catholic scholarship.

GHOSTS ARE NOT SHOT

In fact, as we have indicated, intellectual tolerance in, the sense of trying to find out what the other chap holds is a distinctly Catholic virtue. If tolerance is a modern virtue, Catholics rarely find it in others.

While we are on the subject of tolerance, may we indicate that the intense modern aliveness of the Catholic Church is perhaps in no way more clearly indicated than in the intolerance of the repressive steps that are taken against it today ? Today, not only in Mexico and Russia but in every Communistic and Atheistic meeting in the world, the Church is paid the compliment of being regarded as vigourously alive. One does not hang a corpse nor shoot a ghost nor write violent propaganda against the dead nor legislate against the rights of those who lie in snug or dishonoured graves. Ammunition, in the form of bullets or propaganda or persecuting laws, is not wasted on the dead.

Two factors that indicate the modernness of the Catholic Church can be mentioned only in passing. One is the number of thoughtful, influential men and women who have come into the Church during the past decade. That they were often men and women of letters is an important indication that the Church reaches the thinkers. The other is the recurrence of attacks upon the Church in the so-called “class” magazines and journals. If a magazine editor must know anything, he must know a live and topical subject. The editors of all our better-circulation magazines have thought the Church just that sort of subject.

FOUR RIVALS

Four rivals of the Catholic Church claim the serious attention of the modern man or woman. A brief comparative study may serve to emphasise the timeliness of the Catholic Church. The four rivals are: Judaism, Protestantism in any of its countless forms, the Eastern philosophies and religions, and agnosticism or doubt.

Judaism is one of the unfailing mysteries of human history. But today, except in its rapidly fading orthodox form, Judaism is not a religion at all. Nor is it, in its still religious side of orthodoxy, even slightly interested in drawing nonJews to its beliefs.

Time was when Judaism was a mighty religion that stood for a great faith and a mighty hope and a superb liturgy and ritual. All that is gone. One finds in the writings of the modern Jews little sign of belief in the old personal God who brooded over their nation. The ancient hope of a Messiah has almost disappeared. The temple which was the centre of Jewish life has not existed for centuries, nor has the ancient priesthood that was entrusted with the worship of the mighty Jevah. Temple and priesthood vanished, significantly enough, at precisely the time when Christianity came into being. Christians have found a definite connection between these facts. Jews must attribute the loss of their essential religious faith and cult to mere coincidence.

STRIPPED OF VITALITY

To a man who studies Judaism, either of two explanations is possible: Judaism was a complete religion in itself; or, Judaism was a religion that led toward something that would complete and perfect it and give it its final significance. The latter was the ancient Jewish belief expressed in the hope of a Messiah who would fulfill the Law and bring Judaism to its peak. It can hardly be a complete religion when it has lost all the essentials of that religion. and has substituted instead a national unity and loyalty.

Christianity claims and asserts it can prove that all that Judaism had hoped for and expected came to pass when Jesus Christ entered the world. Christianity was merely the fulfilment of Jewish hopes and prophetic beliefs and foreshadowings. Because the mass of the Jews did not accept Christianity, or rather Jesus Christ, their own Messiah, temple and priesthood and faith and hope disappeared. They had to disappear, for the thing to which they led, the Person for whom they prepared had come and carried out His mission. Because they did not accept Him, Judaism became a religion stripped of all that makes a religion important and vital, and a nation unique in this that it has no common tongue, no homeland, no law, no government.

LONG CENTURIES LATE

There is just one fundamental trouble with Protestantism, beyond which we need not look. It arrived sixteen hundred years too late. In the case of Christian Science it was a matter of being some eighteen hundred years late.

If, by parallel, a college starting up in Virginia in, let’s say, the year 1926, should claim that George Washington was its founder, everyone would laugh. Yet Protestantism, starting between 1520 and 1600 has the astounding temerity to claim Jesus Christ for its founder though He finished His work fifteen centuries before that time. And Christian Science, which never saw Christ and which learned its science from a distinctly unpleasant old lady, is, when it claims Christ as its author, asking us to lay aside less our judgment and historical perspective than our sense of humour.

BUILDING ON NEGATIVES

When Protestantism appeals to the modern man, he is wise to roll its very name thoughtfully on his tongue. Will the modern man, definitely aggressive and hopefully constructive, be satisfied with a protest? A negative is weak mental or spiritual food. And while Protestantism of the present is probably the most- astounding medley of badly digested, inaccurately explained, constantly fluent, lightly held and widely contested teachings, it retains one firm doctrine, which is not a doctrine but a cry of alarm. It maintains that the Catholic Church is wrong and that Protestantism must protest in organised fashion against it. Protestantism, by an uncomfortable paradox, demands the existence of the Catholic Church in order to exist itself. If the Catholic Church ceased to be, Protestantism would have no reason for protest and its name and its chief mission would end. If Protestantism, however, were to drop into oblivion tomorrow, the Catholic Church would scarcely note its disappearance any more than it noticed the disappearance of Nestorians and Arians and Albigenses.

POOR INDIA

The simple answer to Hinduism, most representative of Eastern philosophies, is a very concrete one: India. The glaring fact of India, land ruled by Hindu thought and religion, is enough to discourage any man who does not mistake poetry for reality, and the dreams of misty thinkers for life lived in accord with those dreams. India itself, India with its superstitions and tyrannies, its millions of outcast untouchables contrasting with its few extravagant, incredible despots, its mad swirling of creeds and cults and idol-crowded temples, with Animals worshipped with divine honours, and child marriage and female slavery, is all the answer one needs for the Yogis and mystic’s who have offered Hinduism to our modern world.

THERE’S DOUBT

When the Catholic Church is rejected as being out of date, really one only thing is offered by most men as a substitute.

That one thing is agnosticism or doubt. Let it be clearly understood that no one rejects the Catholic Church because of proved scientific data. No instance of proved premises in any science has ever seriously harmed the position of the Church. The discovery and application of electricity, the advance of modern medicine, the opening of the secret archives of history and the prying into the buried tombs of the ages, modern psychology and checked-up experiments, the progress of astronomy and physics and mathematics, have never brought forward a single fact that has made the Church wince or grow uncomfortable. What has happened is that men, from the proved, data, have drawn a long bow, formulated theories which were not in any sense proved, and with these attacked the Church.

For example, to take the one most frequently quoted, the facts of species evolving through the ages, of age succeeding age with new forms of life coming out of the old, may be true. The conclusions: “Therefore God is not needed to create the world,” “The Bible is wrong,” and “Man is not the son of God but a creature of chance,” are baseless, false, against the facts, and do not in the slightest way touch the Church’s position.

UNDIGNIFIED

As a religion or a philosophy of life science has nothing to offer a man. On all the really important things it must say, “I do not know.” To all the vital questions, “Where did I come from?” “Why am I here?” “Where am I going?” it can only shrug its shoulders and confess a total ignorance. It must cling to its own favourite name, agnosticism, which means the state of not knowing.

Now, if he should want to describe agnosticism or scientific doubt by a single adjective, we should say that it is undignified. It is undignified to live without knowing any of the essential things that surround a man and his destiny. It is undignified to cling to a theory of life that explains nothing important about life.

Because doubt is undignified and because it is humiliating to admit that one knows nothing of oneself, agnosticism and scientific doubt have gone a step further in the lack of dignity. They have claimed the allegiance of mankind for some of the most astounding ugly and indecent beliefs. We need not re-enumerate them. We need only be reminded that in the philosophy of certain groups of doubting scientists they have asked us to believe: that the universe is empty of any controlling force; that this is a disorderly and lawless world (holding this in face of the universal law of nature); that man is a purposeless accident, without destiny or dignity; that we have no free will by which to rise above our heredity and surroundings; that human immortality is a hoax played on the whole of mankind by some cruel but unknown jester; that in the cold, uninterested, purposeless cosmos we play a witless part, with no one to watch or care, only to end as an obscure fate sweeps us back into the chemical dissolution of the grave.

FED WITH DOUBT

None of these theories has been proved or can be proved. But quite aside from that, they are basically undignified. They are hopeless, despairful, cynical, cruel. They explain why so many men who give them serious thought become as pessimistic as Voltaire was in his day or Frederick of Prussia; as Anatole France was or Nietzsche or Shaw; as Aldous Huxley is or Dreiser or H. G. Wells or even the great Einstein.

No man can live happily if his mind is torn with doubt. He cannot face life if life has neither purpose nor dignity nor meaning. He cannot despise himself and his race and yet live splendidly. The data and findings of science are magnificent and have done nothing to impair the position of the Catholic Church but have done much, in many cases, to strengthen it. The philosophy that has been concocted by careless thinkers and changed every decade offers man neither hope nor dignity.

THE CLAIMS OF BEAUTY

Even the slightest acquaintance with the Church makes clear one of its important claims to the attention of modern men and women. Beyond all other faiths or doubts it is uniformly beautiful. We need not refer now to the unquestioned beauty of Catholic architecture or the unflagging interest of the Church in music and painting and sculpture. We need not even call attention to the glory of the Catholic ritual as contrasted with the drab ugliness which Protestantism deliberately donned in Reformation days and has for four centuries grimly worn.

The beauty of the Church is a deeper, richer thing. Any Catholic who knows his faith can tell you of that beauty: the beauty of the Eucharist with all its lovely connotations; the beauty that links itself with the poetic devotion to the Sacred Heart; the beauty of God’s Mother, less as she looks down from canvas and shrines than as she looks down in motherhood upon humanity.

In one sweeping challenge we can state what the educated Catholic knows about the beauty of his Church: Search as you will, you cannot find a single doctrine or dogma taught by the Catholic Church which is not, if properly understood, dignified and beautiful. There is no single Catholic dogma toward which the human heart fails to reach out gladly if the human mind has honestly grasped it.

ALL FAIR

From the significance of the red lamp that indicates before the tabernacle the watchful presence of love’s divine Prisoner, to the belief in a father Providence that guides the stars and shapes the courses of men, every Catholic doctrine, quite independently of its truth, is exquisite and appealing.

The caricatures,of Catholic truth with which non-Catholics have been deceived are uniformly ugly and repulsive things. What the Church really teaches appeals to the modern love of beauty. Even the doctrine of hell is really merely the reverse side of the doctrine of eternal happiness, and the possibility of sin is the shadowy side of the possibility of courage and martyrdom and sainthood.

We let the challenge stand. Perhaps it may stimulate someone to accept it. If anyone does, we know that he will admit, after his honest study is completed, that the challenge in no way overstates the fact that the Church teaches on what is beautiful, consoling, stimulating to the human mind, refreshing to the human heart, redounding to the honour God and to the dignity and solace of the race of men.

THE SOURCE BOOK FOR ALL

Perhaps the Catholic finds nothing more indicative of the extreme timeliness of the Church than the way in which all other creeds use it as the quarry from which they dig the material with which they build their latest and of-themoment structures. From the Catholic Church Protestantism took the Bible on which it is still founded, and borrowed every one of the doctrines of Protestantism which have withstood the corroding of time.

Christian Science stresses the healing of the body as the Catholic Church has done at the many shrines of its miracles, notably Lourdes and Loreto and St. Anne of Beaupre today. Christian Science teaches a decidedly silly pantheism (we can never forget that in humourless fashion Mrs. Eddy proclaimed that our livers were God). The Catholic Church gives us the true union of God and men in Holy Communion and the beautiful assimilation of men to the divinity (without the destruction of their personality and individuality) in the Mystical Body of Christ.

Communism cries aloud the old Catholic doctrine of the brotherhood of man, but dares not go nearly as far as the Church has gone. For while Communism’s brotherhood is limited to those of its dominant class and party, the Church demands brotherhood for all men and classes and races and colours.

COPYING

A casual reading of modern thinkers brings one face to face with the desire for the “immanence of God.” If the term is unfamiliar, the reader may skip it. If it is familiar, he must be reminded that the Catholic Church holds the true immanence of God, the dwelling of the Holy Spirit, the Third Person of the Blessed Trinity, in the souls of those who have accepted Him. in Confirmation.

Almost belatedly we find the modern man and woman keenly alert to social justice, in a programme that has not, in the main, dared to go as far along the path of social reform and economic reconstruction as Leo XIII indicated over forty years ago.

Pacifism is a modern enthusiasm. The Church, from the beginning/ when it was born to the recurring phrase of its Founder, Peace be with you,” has preached and practised peace. Indeed, in its supernationalism, its binding of men together in the common brotherhood of the faith and a union. under the leadership of Christ the King, is the only possible basis for any effective League of Nations or any successful working together of the races and the nations.

FROM CATHOLIC SOURCES

Modern education found the Church already a teacher in every type of school, from that for the smallest youngsters to successful universities. Modern hospitals derive from that mother of hospitals, the Catholic Church, which first gave the, concept of a merciful care of the sick to an astonished world. It could not do otherwise and still follow in the footsteps of the Divine Physician.

We recall with considerable interest that modern democratic principles were outlined by Catholic philosophers long before the American Revolution and that Suarez and Bellarmine considerably antedated Jefferson, Franklin, and the French revolutionists and democrats.

Today, as Protestantism wanes at home, it shows an increasing missionary zeal abroad. But wherever it arrives, it finds the Catholic missionary already in the field. “Go teach all nations,” spoken to the Church and obeyed by the Church from the start, was a command that Protestantism recognised so late that it everywhere merely follows in the footsteps of the Catholic priest and nun.

BRAVE OR COWARDLY?

It will depend entirely upon how you regard the modern man or woman whether you consider this next quality of the Church as appealing “ or not. Most of us who love our fellow men would like to think it could prove to be a kind of inspiring challenge. Many of our contemporaries who think slightingly of mankind in general and of our own rather soft age in particular would find it discouraging.

For the Church is undoubtedly difficult. It has never pretended for a moment that faith is easy. Much less does it claim that practice is simple. Certainly the Founder of Christianity trod no easy and smooth path. Would He be to this day the admiration even of the man without faith had He been, like the men of His own day whom He honestly condemned, a man clad in purple and fine linen and feasting sumptuously every day? Christ set for humanity a difficult path. But so did every leader who ever lifted humanity to higher level in whatever line of achievement.

The Church would plainly not be the Church of Christ if it were inviting its members down easy slopes and along carpeted ways. You cannot follow a crucified God without occasionally finding blood on your feet. You cannot raise yourself or your contemporaries without struggle and effort and the mastery of difficulties.

NOT FOR WEAKLINGS

The Church has never claimed to be an institution for the weakling nor the teacher of practices that can be mattered by the coward. Patiently and gently the Church mothers the weak and tempted and lifts the fallen to their feet. But its inspiring challenge is to those with high ideals and the courage to realise that high ideals are attained only by high and difficult adventuring.

Is the modern man afraid of difficulties? His detractors say he is. Then perhaps the Church would not appeal to him. But if the modern man who conquers the sky in heroic achievements is also willing to embark on the romantic adventure of scaling heaven itself; if the modern athlete, who likes a contest that tests his skill and endurance, wants to enter the race for which St. Paul pointed out the prize as eternal life; if unselfishness has any appeal and the service of one’s neighbour is still an inspiring vocation; if, whether militarist or pacifist, one still feels the urge to battle nobly and heroically for justice and truth and the advancement of the race and the triumph of God’s kingdom, then the Church has first claim upon the modern man’s allegiance.

THE DIFFICULT CHRIST

Christ had the sad experience of living among weaklings who found His doctrines hard and walked no more with Him. The Church has had the same distressing experience. There are millions today who resist the appeal of the Church, not because they have investigated its claims or fathomed its teachings or appraised its moral practices, but because they quickly sense that the Church expects of its members heroism. And they draw back from the necessity of fighting their lower natures, cultivating a sinless heart, forgiving enemies, leading careers of startling honesty, training themselves to unselfishness, living for God and neighbour rather than for self.

They are modern, but they are no credit, these moderns, to our age. For purity can never be out of date, and service of one’s fellows is, in any age, essential; and honesty and loyalty and truth cannot be alien to any era. These things are hard, and the Church, following the teachings of Christ, demands them. It demands, as He did, faith, a spirit of sacrifice, love of fellow man, prayer, a humility of heart that is yet proud enough to aspire to the sonship of God. And never, whatever the age, can these things be obsolete or out of date.

BOTH OUT OF DATE

The same people who call the Church out of date find Christ out of date, too. Yet He has proved to be the one person who defies time. His contemporaries are misty figures. Even the great of a hundred years ago are shrouded in clouds and fog. Christ shines on the consciousness of the world with a vivid reality that never fades. And so does His Church.

To the men who did not care to know Christ, He appeared out of touch with the swift-moving armies, of Rome, the commercial enterprises of the Jewish temple, the complacent agnosticism of Athens, the quickly rising and collapsing religions that came out of the East. They died. He lived.

To those who do not care to study the Church, it appears out of touch with modern progress, with big business, with religious systems that are forgetting God and thinking of social service alone, with education that forgets all the essentials of a man’s nature, with nationalism gone mad and science so engrossed with nature that it cannot see the Creator of nature. All these things, too, will pass. And Christ’s Church will live.

Only the man who has knelt in the Church as God-with-us is lifted in the elevation of the Host, who has heard truth explained in such fashion that it co-ordinated and unified and made beautiful and dignified his last action and his greatest, who has felt the presence of God in His heart and the certainty of immortality in his soul and firmness of conviction in his mind, who has experienced the reassurance of a Father Who is God and a Mother who is Mary and an elder Brother Who is Christ the Lord, who has freely melted himself into the world-community which is the Mystical Body of the Saviour and seen all men in the brotherhood of a common faith and hope and love-only that man can tell you how perfectly the Church meets the needs and desires of the man of this day and age.

But it is infinitely worthwhile, no matter what the difficulties and the sacrifices involved, to experience and know all that.

Nihil Obstat:

RECCAREDUS FLEMING, Censor Theol. Deput.

Imprimi Potest:

@ IOANNES CAROLUS, Archiep. Dublinen.,

Hibernia Primas.

Dublini, die 6 Nov., anno 1944

********

The Church Or The Bible

BY FR. ARNOLD DAMEN, S.J. (1815–1890)

INDEX

INTRODUCTION

The following sermon is as relevant today as it was over 100 years ago when it was first preached by Father Arnold Damen, S.J. That Father Damen’s message was and still is a challenge tothe many who pride themselves “Bible-andBiblealone Christians” is evident from the title, “The Church or the Bible.” “One cannot have God for his Father, who will not have the Churchfor his Mother,” and likewise one cannot have the Word of God for his faith who will not have the Church for his teacher. It is the infallible teaching authority of the Church, as promised by Christ, which alone preserves God’s Word from erroneous interpretation. This is the essence of the zealous priest’s doctrine. It is also the essence of true Christianity, as Father Damen amply proves from Scripture itself and from just plain common sense. Every sincere Bible reader deserves to know the true relation God has established between His Church and Holy Scripture. We, therefore, invite all who love the Bible to read Father Damen’s exposition with an open mind, lest while reading the Scriptures “they wrest them to their own destruction.” (2 Peter 3:16)

I. Dearly Beloved Christians:—When our Divine Saviour sent His Apostles and His Disciples throughout the whole universe to preach the Gospel to every creature, He laid down the conditions of salvation thus: “He that believeth and is baptized,” said the Son of the Living God, “shall be saved, but he that believeth not shall be condemned” (Mark 16:16). Here, then, Our Blessed Lord laid down the two conditions of salvation: Faith and Baptism. He that believeth and is baptized shall be saved, but he that believeth not shall be condemned-or is damned. Hence, then, two conditions of salvation: Faith and Baptism. I will speak this evening on the condition of Faith. We must have Faith in order to be saved, and we must have Divine Faith, not human faith. Human faith will not save a man, but only Divine Faith. What is Divine Faith? It is to believe, upon the authority of God, the truths that God has revealed; that is Divine Faith. To believe all that God has taught upon the authority of God, and to believe without doubting, without hesitation; for the moment you commence to doubt or hesitate, that moment you commence to mistrust the authority of God, and, therefore, insult God by doubting His word. Divine Faith, therefore, is to believe without doubting, without hesitating. Human faith is when we believe a thing upon the authority of men-on human authority. That is human faith. But Divine Faith is to believe without doubting, without hesitating, whatsoever God has revealed upon the authority of God, upon the word of God.

Therefore, my dear people, it is not a matter of indifference what religion a man professes, providing he be a good man. You hear it said nowadays in this Nineteenth Century of little faith that it matter not what religion a man professes, providing he be a good man. That is heresy, my dear people, and I will prove it to you to be such. If it be a matter of indifference what a man believes, providing he be a good man, why then it is useless for God to make any revelation whatever. If a man is at liberty to reject what God revealeth, what use for Christ to send out His Apostles and disciples to teach all nations, if those nations are at liberty to believe or reject the teachings of the Apostles or disciples? You see at once that this would be insulting God. If God reveals a thing or teaches a thing, He means to be believed. He wants to be believed whenever He teaches or reveals a thing. Man is bound to believe whatsoever God has revealed, for, my dear people, we are bound to worship God, both with our reason and intellect, as well as with our heart and will. God is master of the whole man. He claims his will, his heart, his reason, and his intellect. Where is the man in his reason, no matter what denomination, church, or religion he belongs to, that will deny that we are bound to believe what God has taught? I am sure there is not a Christian who will deny that we are bound to believe whatsoever God has revealed.

Therefore, it is not a matter of indifference what religion a man professes. He must profess that true religion if he would be saved. But what is the true religion? To believe all that God has taught. I am sure that even my Protestant friends will admit this is right; for, if they do not, I would say they are no Christians at all. “But what is the true Faith?” “The true Faith,” say Protestant friends, “is to believe in the Lord Jesus.” Agreed, Catholics believe in that. “Tell me what you mean by believing in the Lord Jesus?” “Why,” says my Protestant friend, “you must believe that He is the Son of the Living God.” Agreed again. Thanks be to God, we can agree on something. We believe that Jesus Christ is the Son of the Living God, that He is God. To this we all agree, excepting the Unitarians and Socinians, but we will leave them alone tonight. If Christ be God, then we must believe all He teaches. Is this not so, my dearly beloved Protestant brethren and sisters? “And that’s the right Faith, isn’t it?” “Well, yes,” says my Protestant friend, “I guess that is the right Faith. To believe that Jesus is the Son of the Living God we must believe all that Christ has taught.” We Catholics say the same, and here we agree again. Christ, then, we must believe, and that is the true Faith. We must believe all that Christ has taught-that God has revealed-and, without that Faith there is no salvation; without that Faith there is no hope of Heaven; without that Faith there is eternal damnation! We have the words of Christ for it: “He that believeth not shall be condemned,” says Christ.

II. But if Christ, my dearly beloved people commands me under pain of eternal damnation to believe all that He has taught, He must give me the means to know what He has taught. If, therefore, Christ commands me upon pain of eternal damnation, He is bound to give me the means of knowing what He has taught. And the means Christ gives us of knowing this must have been at all times within the reach of all people. Secondly, the means that God gives us to know what He has taught must be a means adapted to the capacities of all intellects-even the dullest. For even those of the dullest of understandings have a right to salvation, and consequently they have a right to the means whereby they shall learn the truths that God has taught, that they may believe them and be saved.

The means that God gives us to know what he has taught must be an infallible means. For if it be a means that can lead us astray, it can be no means at all. It must be an infallible means, so that if a man makes use of that means, he will infallibly, without fear of mistake or error, be brought to a knowledge of all the truths that God has taught. I don’t think there can be anyone present here-I care not what he is, a Christian or an unbeliever-who can object to my premises. And these premises are the groundwork of my discourse and of all my reasoning, and, therefore, I want you to bear them in mind. I will repeat them, for on these premises rests all the strength of my discourse and reasoning. If God commands me under pain of eternal damnation to believe all that He has taught, He is bound to give my the means to know what He has taught. And the means that God gives me must have been at all times within the reach of all people-must be adapted to the capacities of all intellects, must be an infallible means to us, so that if a man makes use of it he will be brought to a knowledge of all the truths that God has taught.

III. Has God given us such means? “Yes,” say my Protestant friends, “He has.” And so says the Catholic: “God has given us such means. What is the means God has given us whereby we shall learn the truth that God has revealed?” “The Bible,” say my Protestant friends, “the Bible, the whole of the Bible, and nothing but the Bible.” But we Catholics say, “No; not the Bible and its private interpretation, but the Church of the Living God.” I will prove the facts, and I defy all my separated brethren-and all the preachers in the bargain-to disprove what I will say tonight.

I say, then, it is not the private interpretation of the Bible that has been appointed by God to be the teacher of man, but the Church of the Living God. For, my dear people, if God has intended that man should learn His religion from a book- the Bible-surely God would have given that book to man; Christ would have given that book to man. Did He do it? He did not. Christ sent His Apostles throughout the whole universe and said: “Go ye, therefore, and teach all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost; teaching them to observe all things whatsoever I have commanded you.” Christ did not say, “Sit down and write Bibles and scatter them over the earth, and let every man read his Bible and judge for himself.” If Christ had said that, there would never have been a Christianity on the earth at all, but a Babylon and confusion instead, and never one Church, the union of one body. Hence, Christ never said to His Apostles, “Go and write Bibles and distribute them, and let everyone judge for himself.” That injunction was reserved for the Sixteenth Century, and we have seen the result of it. Ever since the Sixteenth Century there have been springing up religion upon religion, and churches upon churches, all fighting and quarreling with one another. And all because of the private interpretation of the Bible.

Christ sent His Apostles with authority to teach all nations, and never gave them any command of writing the Bible. And the Apostles went forth and preached everywhere, and planted the Church of God throughout the earth, but never thought of writing. The first word written was by Saint Matthew, and he wrote for the benefit of a few individuals. He wrote the Gospel about seven years after Christ left this earth, so that the Church of God, established by Christ, existed seven years before a line was written of the New Testament. Saint Mark wrote about ten years after Christ left this earth; Saint Luke about twenty-five years, and Saint John about sixty-three years after Christ had established the Church of God. Saint John wrote the last portion of the Bible-the Book of Revelation-about sixty-five years after Christ had left this earth and the Church of God had been established. The Catholic religion had existed sixty-five years before the Bible was completed, before it was written. Now, I ask you, my dearly beloved separated brethren, were these Christian people, who lived during the period between the establishment of the Church of Jesus and the finishing of the Bible, were they really Christians, good Christians, enlightened Christians? Did they know the religion of Jesus? Where is the man that will dare to say that those who lived from the time that Christ went up to Heaven to the time that the Bible was completed were not Christians? It is admitted on all sides, by all denominations, that they were the very best of Christians, the first fruit of the Blood of Jesus Christ. But how did they know what they had to do to save their souls? Was it from the Bible that they learned it? No, because the Bible was not written. And would our Divine Saviour have left His Church for sixty-five years without a teacher, if the Bible is the teacher of man? Most assuredly not.

Were the Apostles Christians, I ask you, my dear Protestant friends? You say, “Yes, sir; they were the very founders of Christianity.” Now, my dear friends, none of the Apostles ever read the Bible; not one of them except perhaps, Saint John. For all of then had died martyrs for the Faith of Jesus Christ and never saw the cover of a Bible. Every one of them died martyrs and heroes for the Church of Jesus before the Bible was completed. How, then, did those Christians that lived in the first sixty-five years after Christ ascended-how did they know what they had to do to save their souls? They knew it precisely in the same way that you know it, my dear Catholic friends. You know it from the teachings of the Church of God, and so did the primitive Christians know it.

IV. Not only sixty-five years did Christ leave the Church He had established without a Bible, but over three hundred years. The Church of God was established and went on spreading itself over the whole globe without the Bible for more than three hundred years. In all that time the people did not know what constituted the Bible. In the days of the Apostles there were many false gospels. There was the Gospel of Simon, the Gospel of Nicodemus, of Mary, of Barnabas, and the Gospel of the Infancy of Jesus. All of these gospels were spread among the people, and the people did not know which of these were inspired and which were false and spurious. Even the learned themselves were disputing whether preference should be given to the Gospel of Simon or that of Matthew-to the Gospel of Nicodemus or the Gospel of Mark, the Gospel of Mary or that of Luke, the Gospel of the Infancy of Jesus or the Gospel of Saint John the Evangelist. And so it was in regard to the epistles: Many spurious epistles were written, and the people were at a loss for over three hundred years to know which was false or spurious, or which inspired. And, therefore, they did not know what constituted the books of the Bible.

It was not until the Fourth Century that the Pope of Rome, the Head of the Church, the successor of Saint Peter, assembled together the Bishops of the world in a council (Council of Rome, 382 A.D.). And there in that council it was decided that the Bible, as we Catholics have it now, is the Word of God, and that the Gospels of Simon, Nicodemus, Mary, the Infancy of Jesus, and Barnabas, and all those other epistles were spurious or, at least, unauthentic; at least, that there was no evidence of their inspiration, and that the Gospels of Saints Luke, Matthew, Mark and John, and the Book of Revelation, were inspired by the Holy Ghost. Up to that time the whole world for three hundred years did not know what the Bible was; hence, they could not take the Bible for their guide, for they did not know what constituted the Bible. Would our Divine Saviour, if He intended man to learn his religion from a book, have left the Christian world for three hundred years without that book? Most assuredly not.

V. Not only for three hundred years was the world left without the Bible, but for one thousand four hundred years the Christian world was left without the Sacred Book. Before the art of printing was invented, Bibles were rare things; Bibles were costly things. Now, you must all be aware, if you have read history at all, that the art of printing was invented only a little more than four hundred years ago-about the middle of the Fifteenth Century-and about one hundred years before there was a Protestant in the world. As I have said, before printing was invented books were rare and costly things.

Historians tell us that in the Eleventh Century -eight hundred years ago-Bibles were so rare and costly that it took a fortune, a considerable fortune, to buy oneself a copy of the Bible! Before the art of printing, everything had to be done with the pen upon parchment or sheepskin. It was, therefore, a tedious and slow operation-a costly operation. Now, in order to arrive at the probable cost of a Bible at that time, let us suppose that a man should work ten years to make a copy of the Bible and earn a dollar a day. Well, then, the cost of that Bible would be $3,650. Now, let us suppose that a man should work at the copying of the Bible for twenty years, as historians say it would have taken him at that time, not having the conveniences and improvements to aid him that we have now. Then, at a dollar a day, for twenty years, the cost of a Bible would be nearly $8,000!

Suppose I came and said to you, “My dear people, save your soul, for if you lose your soul all is lost.” You would ask, “What are we to do to save our souls?” The Protestant preacher would say to you, “You must get a Bible; you can get one at such-andsuch a shop.” You would ask the cost and be told it was $8,000. You would exclaim: “The Lord save us! And can we not go to Heaven without that book?” The answer would be: “No; you must have the Bible and read it.” You murmur at the price, but are asked, “Is not your soul worth $8,000?” Yes, of course it is, but you say you do not have the money, and if you cannot get a Bible, and your salvation depends upon it, evidently you would have to remain outside the Kingdom of Heaven. This would be a hopeless condition, indeed. For fourteen hundred years the world was left without a Bible-not one in ten thousand, not one in twenty thousand, before the art of printing was invented, had the Bible. And would our Divine Lord have left the world without that book if it was necessary to man’s salvation? Most assuredly not.

VI. But let us suppose for a moment that all had Bibles, that Bibles were written from the beginning, and that every man, woman, and child had a copy. What good would that book be to people who did not know how to read it? It is a blind thing to such persons. Even now one-half the inhabitants of the earth cannot read. Moreover, as the Bible was written in Greek and Hebrew, it would be necessary to know these languages in order to be able to read it. But it is said that we have it translated now in French, English, and other languages of the day. Yes, but are you sure you have a faithful translation? If not, you have not the Word of God. If you have a false translation, it is the work of man. How shall you ascertain that? How shall you find out if you have a faithful translation from the Greek and Hebrew? “I do not know Greek or Hebrew,” says my separated friend; “for my translation I must depend upon the opinion of the learned.”

Well, then, my dear friends, suppose the learned should be divided in their opinions, and some of them should say it is good, and some false? Then your faith is gone; you must commence doubting and hesitating, because you do not know if the translation is good. Now with regard to the Protestant translation of the Bible, allow me to tell you that the most learned among Protestants tell you that your translation-the King James edition-is a very faulty translation and is full of errors. Your own learned divines, preachers, and bishops have written whole volumes to point out all the errors that are there in the King James translation, and Protestants of various denominations acknowledge it.

Some years ago, when I lived in St. Louis, there was held in that city a convention of ministers. All denominations were invited, the object being to arrange for a new translation of the Bible, and give it to the world. The proceedings of the convention were published daily in the Missouri Republican. A very learned Presbyterian, I think it was, stood up, and, urging the necessity of giving a new translation of the Bible, said that in the present Protestant translation of the Bible there were no less than thirty thousand errors. And you say, my dear Protestant friends, that the Bible is your guide and teacher. What a teacher, with thirty thousand errors! The Lord save us from such a teacher! One error is bad enough, but thirty thousand is a little too much. Another preacher stood up in the convention-I think he was a Baptist-and, urging the necessity of giving a new translation of the Bible, said for thirty years past the world was without the Word of God, for the Bible we have is not the Word of God at all. Here are your own preachers for you. You all read the newspapers, no doubt, my friends, and must know what happened in England a few years ago. A petition was sent to Parliament for an allowance of a few thousand pounds sterling for the purpose of getting up a new translation of the Bible. And that movement was headed and carried on by Protestant bishops and clergymen.

VII. But, my dear people, how can you be sure of your faith? You say the Bible is your guide, but you do not know if you have it. Let us suppose for a moment that all should have a Bible. Should all read it and have a faithful translation, even then it cannot be the guide of man, because the private interpretation of the Bible is not infallible, but, on the contrary, most fallible. It is the source and fountain of all kinds of errors and heresies, and all kinds of blasphemous doctrines. Do not be shocked, my dear friends; just be calm and listen to my arguments. There are now throughout the world three hundred and fifty different denominations or churches, and all of them say the Bible is their guide and teacher. And I suppose they are all sincere. Are all of them true churches? This is an impossibility.

Truth is one as God is one, and there can be no contradiction. Every man in his senses sees that every one of them cannot be true, for they differ and contradict one another, and cannot, therefore, be all true. The Protestants say the man that reads the Bible rightly and prayerfully has truth, and they all say that they read it right.

Let us suppose that here is an Episcopal minister. He is a sincere, an honest, a well-meaning and prayerful man. He reads his Bible in a prayerful spirit, and from the word of the Bible, he says it is clear that there must be bishops. For without bishops there can be no priests, without priests no Sacraments, and without Sacraments no Church. The Presbyterian is a sincere and well-meaning man. He reads the Bible also, and deduces that there should be no bishops, but only presbyters. “Here is the Bible,” says the Episcopalian; and “here is the Bible to give you the lie,” says the Presbyterian. Yet both of them are prayerful and well-meaning men. Then the Baptist comes in. He is a well-meaning, honest man, and prayerful also. “Well,” says the Baptist, “have you ever been baptized?” “I was,” says the Episcopalian, “when I was a baby.” “And so was I,” says the Presbyterian, “when I was a baby.” “But,” says the Baptist, “you are going to Hell as sure as you live.”

Next comes the Unitarian, wellmeaning, honest, and sincere. “Well,” says the Unitarian, “allow me to tell you that you are a pack of idolaters. You worship a man for a God who is no God at all.” And he gives several texts from the Bible to prove it, while the others are stopping their ears that they may not hear the blasphemies of the Unitarian. And they all contend that they have the true meaning of the Bible. Next comes the Methodist, and he says, “My friends, have you got any religion at all?” “Of course we have,” they say. “Did you ever feel religion,” says the Methodist, “the spirit of God moving within you?” “Nonsense,” says the Presbyterian, “we are guided by our reason and judgment.” “Well,” says the Methodist, “if you never felt religion, you never had it, and will go to Hell for eternity.” The Universalist next comes in, and hears them threatening one another with eternal hellfire. “Why,” says he, “you are a strange set of people. Do you not understand theWord of God? There is no Hell at all. That idea is good enough to scare old women and children,” and he proves it from the Bible. Now comes in the Quaker. He urges them not to quarrel, and advises that they do not baptize at all. He is the sincerest of men, and gives the Bible for his faith.

Another comes in and says: “Baptize the men and let the women alone. For the Bible says, unless a man be born again of water and the Holy Ghost, he cannot enter the Kingdom of Heaven. “So,” says he, “the women are all right, but baptize the men.” Next comes in the Shaker, and says he: “You are a presumptuous people. Do you not know that the Bible tells you that you must work out your salvation in fear and trembling, and you do not tremble at all. My brethren, if you want to go to Heaven shake, my brethren,shake!”

VIII. I have here brought together seven or eight denominations, differing one from another, or understanding the Bible in different ways, illustrative of the fruits of private interpretation. What, then, if I brought together the three hundred and fifty different denominations, all taking the Bible for their guide and teaching, and all differing from one another? Are they all right? One says there is a Hell, and another says there is not Hell. Are both right? One says Christ is God; another says He is not. One says they are unessential. One says Baptism is a requisite, and another says it is not. Are both true? This is an impossibility, my friends; all cannot be true. Who, then, is true? He that has the true meaning of the Bible, you say. But the Bible does not tell us who that is-the Bible never settles the quarrel. It is not the teacher.

The Bible, my dear people, is a good book. We Catholics allow that the Bible is the Word of God, the language of inspiration, and every Catholic is exhorted to read the Bible. But good as it is, the Bible, my dear friends, does not explain itself. It is a good book, the Word of God, the language of inspiration, but your explanation of the Bible is not the language of inspiration. Your understanding of the Bible is not inspired-for surely you do not pretend to be inspired!

It is with the Bible as it is with the Constitution of the United States. When Washington and his associates established the Constitution and the Supreme Law of the United States, they did not say to the people of the States: “Let every man read the Constitution and make a government unto himself; let every man make his own explanation of the Constitution.” If Washington had done that, there never would have been a United States. The people would all have been divided among themselves, and the country would have been cut up into a thousand different divisions or governments. What did Washington do? He gave the people the Constitution and the Supreme Law, and appointed his Supreme Court and Supreme Judge of the Constitution. And these are to give the true explanation of the Constitution to all the American citizens-all without exception, from the President to the beggar. All are bound to go by the decisions of the Supreme Court, and it is this and this alone that can keep the people together and preserve the Union of the United States. The moment the people take the interpretation of the Constitution into their own hands, that moment there is an end of union. Ad so it is in every government-so it is here and everywhere. There is a Constitution, a Supreme Court or Law, a Supreme Judge of that Constitution, and that Supreme Court is to give us the meaning of the Constitution and the Law. In every well-ruled country there must be such a thing as this-a Supreme Law, Supreme Court, Supreme Judge, that all the people abide by.

There is in every country a Supreme Law, Supreme Court, Supreme Judge; and all are bound by decisions, and without that no government could stand. Even among the Indian tribes such a condition of affairs exists. How are they kept together? By their chief, who is their dictator. So our Divine Saviour also has established His Supreme Court-His Supreme Judge-to give us the true meaning of the Scriptures, and to give us the true revelation and doctrines of the Word of Jesus. The Son of the Living God has pledged His Word that this Supreme Court is infallible, and therefore, the true Catholic never doubts. “I believe,” says the Catholic, “because the Church teaches me so. I believe the Church because God has commanded me to believer her. He said: “Hear the Church, and he that does not hear the Church let him be to thee as a heathen and a publican.” “He that believeth you believeth Me.” said Christ, “and he that despiseth you despiseth Me.”” Therefore, the Catholic believes because God has spoken, and upon the authority of God. But our Protestant friends say, “We believe in the Bible.” Very well; how do you understand the Bible? “Well,” says the Protestant, “to the best of my opinion and judgment this is the meaning of the text.” He is not sure of it, but to the best of his opinion and judgment. This, my friends, is only the testimony of a man-it is only human faith, not Divine Faith.

It is Divine Faith alone by which we give honour and glory to God, by which we adore His infinite wisdom and veracity, and that adoration and worship is necessary for salvation. I have now proved to you that private interpretation of the Scripture cannot be the guide or teacher of man. In another lecture I shall prove that the Catholic Church is the only true Church of God, and that there is no other.

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The Church Suffering

BY WINFRID HERBST, S.D.S

INDEX

CATHOLICS are bound to believe that “there is a purgatory and that the souls detained therein are helped by the acceptable Sacrifice of the Altar.” (Council of Trent, Sess. 25, On Purgatory.) This doctrine of the Church is also the doctrine of Holy Scripture and of Tradition.

We will mention but two such passages. In the Second Book of Machabees, Chapter 12, Verses 43–46, we read: “Judas, making a gathering, sent twelve thousand drachmas of silver to Jerusalem for sacrifice to be offered for sins of the dead, thinking well and religiously concerning the resurrection. (For if he had not hoped that they that were slain should rise again, it would have seemed superfluous and vain to pray for the dead.) And because he considered that they who had fallen asleep with godliness, had great grace laid up for them, it is therefore a holy and wholesome thought to pray for the dead, that they may be loosed from sins.”

And St. Paul in the first Epistle to the Corinthians, Chapter 3, Verses 14–16, says: “If any man’s work abide, which he has built thereupon, he shall receive a reward. If any man’s work burn, he shall suffer loss; but he himself shall be saved, yet so as by fire.”

The Church, which teaches that the fire of hell is really fire, has not said the same of purgatory. St. Catherine of Genoa, whose teaching was examined and approved before she was canonized, says: “This sense of the grievousness of being kept from beholding the Divine Light, coupled with that instinctive longing which would fain be without hindrance to follow the enticing look of God-these things, I say, make up the pains of the souls in purgatory.”

WHERE IS PURGATORY?

Relative to purgatory, we can only say that it is a place or condition of temporal punishment for those who, departing this life in God’s grace, are not entirely free from venial faults or have not fully paid the satisfaction due to their transgressions.

Regarding the place, we may distinguish, according to St. Thomas, and say that purgatory is one place according to general law, and thus the location of purgatory is a lower place joined to hell, so that one and the same is the fire that torments the damned in hell and purifies the just in purgatory.

But another is the place of purgatory according to dispensation; and so sometimes we read of those who are punished in diverse places, either for the instruction of the living or for the aid of the dead, that their punishment being known to the living it may be mitigated through the suffrages of the Church.

WHY DO THE POOR SOULS SUFFER?

If this question means on what account do they suffer, we reply that they suffer either for venial sins that are not repented nor forgiven before death, or for sins whose guilt was forgiven in this life but whose punishment, if any is still due, must be completed after death.

If it means why do they suffer, the answer is that they suffer in order to make atonement to God and to remake their souls. We cannot imagine a soul that defies its Maker basking unrebuked in His love- reason rebels against the thought. There must be a penalty, punishment-the offence must in some way be paid for. Reason tells us that. A reasonable boy who is punished for a fault by his father takes the punishment understandingly, even though it is hard; and one who knows that he ought to be punished, and is not, instinctively feels that something is not in order, since right is not being done and wrong is being let go free.

Suffering remakes our souls, heals them. Let us say that in this life it brings back the bodily appetites, overgrown and unhealthy, to their natural limits, restores the soul’s control over the body, and frees the soul from wrong habits and desires; and through suffering willingly endured, we can have our purgatory, or a part of it, in this life. If at the hour of death the soul is not pure enough to enter heaven at once, it will burn out all unworthiness by suffering willingly in purgatory. Willingly, we say; for in purgatory the soul realizes what is due to God and desires wholly to repair the wrong done to Him. In its great love it longs to suffer in order to be clean, in order to reach God, in order to make amends to Love.

This willing love is beautifully expressed in Newman’s “The Dream of Gerontius,” in which the soul, “with the intemperate energy of love, flies to the feet of the Emmanuel,” but, realizing its unworthiness, speaks thus to the Guardian Angel:

“Take me away, and in the lowest deep

There let me be,

And there in hope the lone night-watches keep,

Told out for me.

There, motionless and happy in my pain,

Lone, not forlorn—There will I sing my sad perpetual strain,

Until the morn.

There will I sing, and soothe my stricken breast,

Which ne’er can cease

To throb, and pine, and languish, till possest

Of its Sole Peace

There will I sing my absent Lord and Love:

Take me away,

That sooner I may rise, and go above,

And see Him in the truth of everlasting day.”

STRAIGHT TO HEAVEN?

It is possible to go straight to heaven; and there are, no doubt, souls that pass straight to heaven. People should do more than seek to avoid hell. By striving to avoid even purgatory, they will all the more surely at least avoid hell. Everyone should strive to attain heaven immediately after death, because God really desires it as part of His plan.

There are various means of avoiding or mitigating our purgatory. To mention some of them, we may briefly enumerate Baptism, martyrdom, frequent confession, the gaining of indulgences, frequent Communion, Extreme Unction, Mass celebrated for the living, the religious life. Then there is the spirit of penance, which can be developed by every Christian by the constant remembrance of past sins and by flight from the occasions of sin. To these means may be added the loving acceptance of an earthly purgatory and of death, the practice of doing all for the love of God, the forgiveness of injuries, the avoidance of passing judgment on others, spiritual infancy, detachment from earthly things.

Other holy dispositions and salutary practices are the constant remembrance of the last things and the heroic request for one’s purgatory here on earth.

An infallible means of mitigating our purgatory on earth is a great charity toward the souls of the departed; for God treats us as we treat others. “Blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy.”

THEY CAN PRAY FOR US

It is the pious belief of the Catholic faithful that the Poor Souls can pray for us. Though in their sufferings they cannot help themselves, they can help others, even though they are in purgatory. They can pray for others, for they are in the grace of God. In fact, according to the holy Fathers, that is one of the greatest joys and consolations of the Poor Souls in their night of pain; already from purgatory they can help us and repay us by their intercession.

St. Catherine of Bologna says: “When I wish to be sure of getting a favour I have recourse to these suffering souls, that they may intercede for me with our common Father; and usually I feel that I have them to thank for the answer to my prayer.”

“Oh, if we but knew,” says the sainted Cure of Ars, “the power that these good souls have over the heart of God and what graces we can get through their intercession, we would not so often forget them.

We must pray much for them that they may pray much for us.”

This is, indeed, a Christian thought of olden times, one that is brought home to us even from the inscriptions in the Roman catacombs.

SUMMING UP

The definitive teaching of the Church with reference to purgatory is very limited. The Council of Trent decreed: “Whereas the Catholic Church, instructed by the Holy Ghost, has from the Sacred Scriptures and the ancient tradition of the Fathers taught in Councils and very recently in this Ecumenical Synod that there is a purgatory and that the souls detained therein are helped by the suffrages of the faithful, but principally by the acceptable Sacrifice of the Altar; the Holy Synod enjoins on the Bishops that they diligently endeavour to have the sound doctrine of the Fathers in councils regarding purgatory everywhere taught and preached, held and believed by the faithful.”

Points of sound doctrine are the following:

1. It is absolutely certain that the souls in purgatory are sure of their salvation and can no longer sin. They “rest in Christ” and “sleep in the sleep of peace.”

2. It is likewise certain that they suffer the pain of loss, temporary deprivation of the Beatific Vision, the sight of God, and that this pain is very great.

3. It is the common teaching that they likewise suffer the pain of sense, and it is the more common opinion in the Latin Church that they suffer by fire.

4. As regards the gravity of the pain, nothing certain is known. Theologians differ. St. Thomas Aquinas, after pointing out that Scripture reveals nothing on this question and that no decisive argument can be brought forward to settle it, considers it more probable and more in accordance with private revelations to hold that, as a rule, souls suffer their purgation in the fire of hell itself. And he applies the illustration of St. Augustine’s, “In one fire, gold glows and straw smokes,” to show how the fire which endlessly torments the devils can purify a soul that dies in the charity of God. St. Thomas thinks that the least pain of purgatory is greater than the greatest of this life; while St. Bonaventure thinks that the greatest, but not the least, pain of purgatory is more bitter than the pains of this life. But all theologians hold that the suffering souls bear these pains patiently, in great resignation and hope, and that this hope affords them immense Joy.

5. There is likewise nothing certain as regards the duration of the pains. But all Fathers and theologians are unanimous in teaching that purgatory will not endure beyond the last day. Those who live at the end of the world will be quickly cleansed of their light stains by means known to God.

6. The suffering souls are also helped by the prayers of the saints in heaven, as can be seen by the prayers of the Church, for example: “That they may come to share eternal bliss through the intercession of the Blessed Mary ever Virgin and of all the saints.”

That, briefly, is about all we know of purgatory. It remains to help the holy souls by prayers. Masses, good works, indulgences.

“It is a holy and wholesome thought to pray for the dead.” They will fervently pray for us after their release and, very probably, also while still in purgatory.

PRAYER FOR THE POOR SOULS

There is a mighty incentive to prayer for the holy souls in the following incident related by Cardinal Baronius. A holy man, and one who during the whole course of his life had done much for the souls in purgatory, lay in the agonies of death. He was, moreover, sorely tempted by the devil- tempted in particular with thoughts of despair.

Suddenly in the midst of this darkness he saw thousands of heavenly spirits, clad in shining armour, fighting in his defense against the Evil One. “Oh, who are you, blessed beings, who thus defend me?” he cried in grateful astonishment. Came the answer, “We are the souls whom by your penances and Masses you have released from purgatory, and we have come to conduct you to heaven.”

What a reward for his ceaseless charity in behalf of the suffering souls!

We know that prayer for the dead is indeed one of the very greatest acts of charity. As St. Thomas says, “Prayer for the dead is more pleasing to God than prayer for the living, for the dead have a greater need of assistance, and they do not possess that power of helping themselves which the living enjoy.”

“Prayer for the dead is more pleasing to God.” It is a prayer of self-sacrificing devotion. It most nearly approaches the perfect negation of “Each man for himself.” Such prayer is perfect in its humility. It a work of charity that can easily be carried out with the perfection of obedience to Our Lord’s words, “Let not your left hand know what your right hand doth.” Such prayer possesses extraordinary efficacy. The God of mercy has willed that through it we may dispense of the treasure of His mercy as we will, may apply the Blood of Jesus for adorable purposes of expiation and deliverance. Moreover, prayer for the dead urges us on to greater personal efforts at holiness and thus brings to us numerous graces and blessings.

“The dead have a greater need of assistance.” Purgatory, to use Biblical names given this place of expiation, is a prison house, a pit; it is the cleansing fire, the furnace of purification, the refining pot. There all stains must be removed from the soul by suffering, the most grievous of which is the loss of God, unutterable longing for the unseen face of Jesus, for the Beatific Vision. “The least suffering of a Poor Soul is greater than the most intense agony we can think of here,” says St. Anselm. “I consider that this transitory fire is more insupportable than all the afflictions of this earth,” St. Gregory tells us. Put all the sighs and tears and miseries and woes of earth together. More than that the holy souls must suffer. Oh, how great their need of assistance!

“They do not possess the power of helping themselves.” The Church Suffering is helpless unless helped by the Church Triumphant and the Church Militant. We repeat: The Poor Souls cannot help themselves; but they can help and pray for us. And we can pray for them. Happy souls! Heaven is surely theirs. Poor souls! How fearfully they feel that nothing impure shall enter the kingdom of heaven!

Yes; pray for the living, for the sick, the afflicted, sinners, the dying. It is pleasing to the God of love and mercy. But most precious, most powerful, most dear to the Sacred Heart is prayer for the souls in purgatory. And remember that souls are helped principally by the most august Sacrifice of the Altar. It is the most efficacious means. “Masses! Masses!”

Pray for your deceased parents, relatives, and friends first of all. “At least you, my friends!” they moan in pitiable anguish. “Oh, why don’t you pray for me!” How little we do for them! How quickly we forget our dearest ones in their direst need! Revelations to saints tell us that for little faults souls must sometimes suffer for years. We do not know. Let us, accordingly, pray unceasingly, and have Masses said, and assist at Mass, and receive Holy Communion, and offer up mortifications for our loved ones. If they happily need them not, our good works will benefit other souls. God lets no prayer go unanswered.

Pray for the most abandoned souls. Some, it is thought, may remain in purgatory until the judgment day. How many there are who are saved at the very last moment by an act of perfect contrition- but saved for a long, long purgatory! A lady’s husband- we tell it by way of illustration—had committed suicide by flinging himself into a raging stream. Almost frantic in her grief, she came to the sainted Cure d’Ars. “Be comforted,” said he. “There was some distance from the bridge to the stream. Your husband before expiring made his peace with God by a rapid act of perfect contrition. He is saved, but in purgatory. You must pray hard for him.”

Pray for those nearest their release, that God may quickly be honoured the more by the newfound bliss of many a liberated soul. How truly we can promote the honour and glory of God in this way!

Pray for all the departed. Set no limit to your devotion. And let there be an ever recurring refrain in your heart as you do and dare for the suffering souls. Let it be the gracious Saviour’s consoling assurance: “Blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy.”

MASS -MOST EFFICACIOUS MEANS

“Lay this body anywhere,” St. Monica said to her son, St. Augustine; “be not concerned about that; only this I beg of you, that, wheresoever you be, you make remembrance of me at the Lord’s altar.” And from his deathbed St. Louis of France wrote to Philip the Bold, “Dear son, I pray thee that thou wilt help me with Masses.” Again, St. Margaret of Scotland, when dying, said to Theodoric, “One thing I desire of thee, that as long as thou livest thou wilt remember my poor soul in thy Masses.”

It is an outstanding fact, and a deplorable one, that many Catholics fail to realize that nothing possesses greater efficacy for the relief and release of the souls in purgatory than the adorable Sacrifice of the Mass. They forget that the Church teaches that the holy souls are helped principally by the most acceptable Sacrifice of the Altar. It is the most efficacious means. They forget that, as St. John Chrysostom says, at the moment when the Sacrifice of the Mass is offered the angels present fly to open the prisons of purgatory and to execute all that God has been pleased to grant. They forget the consoling statement of St. Jerome that when the Holy Sacrifice is offered for a soul in purgatory, it ceases to suffer during the time Holy Mass lasts. They forget that funeral pomp and flowers and cold blocks of stone are but a solace for the living, not aids for the dead. They are blind to the effects of the salutary Sacrifice, blind to the great relief received by souls while the holy and tremendous Victim lies upon the altar.

And why do they forget all this? Is it not because of that indifference which is synonymous with half-faith, the thing that is responsible for the strange inconsistencies frequently noted in Catholic life? We repeat, it is truly deplorable how this most efficacious means is subjected to strange neglect in its application to the Poor Souls.

Holy Mass should be offered up especially for the dear ones at most frequent intervals, no matter how long ago departed. But this bounden duty is almost criminally disregarded. This being so, we cannot but add the remark that the last will and testament of a Catholic in which there is no provision for Masses is a document as sadly unjust to self as it is incomplete. Heirs, generally speaking, are the same the world over: selfish, grasping, greedy, usually dissatisfied with their portion. They will do little or nothing for the testator unless under compulsion. Countless instances are recorded where Catholics of means died, leaving no bequest for Masses, with the result that the only Mass offered for them was the funeral Requiem. Not to provide for self in a matter so vital is extremely rash, to say the least.

We add -a pertinent remark-that Catholics instead of sending flowers, which can be of no assistance to deceased friends, should send spiritual bouquets of Masses, sometimes called Mass cards. The donor arranges with the priest to have the Holy Sacrifice offered a certain number of times for the deceased, procures a card specially prepared for the purpose, and sends it to the house of mourning. What a fragrant token of love!

Nor ought Masses to be offered only for relatives and friends. They should be requested for the souls in purgatory in general also-and many of them. As prayer for the dead is one of the greatest acts of charity we can perform for our neighbour, so the offering of Holy Mass for them is, without doubt, the greatest of the greatest.

“Masses! Masses!” the suffering souls wail in anguish. “Oh, if you but knew!”

THE HEROIC ACT

The Heroic Act is explained in the following decree of the Sacred Congregation of Indulgences dated Dec. 18, 1885, and confirmed the following day by Pope Leo XIII:

“The Heroic Act of Charity in favour of the souls detained in purgatory consists in this, that a member of the Church militant, either using a set formula or simply by an act of his will, offers to God for the souls in purgatory all the satisfactory works which he will perform during his lifetime, and also all the suffrages which may accrue to him after his death. Many Christians devoted to the Blessed Virgin Mary, acting on the advice of the Theatine Regular Cleric, Father Caspar Olider, of blessed memory, make it a practice to deposit the said merits and suffrages as it were into the hands of the Blessed Virgin that she may distribute these favours to the souls in purgatory according to her own merciful pleasure.” [Italics ours.]

1. The Heroic Act consists in this, that a Catholic offers to God for the souls in purgatory all the satisfactory works which he himself will perform as long as he lives, as well as all the suffrages that come to him in any way after his death.

2. This act may be made in any way, without any particular formula, and even only mentally.

3. Each one is free to offer his suffrages (prayers, supplications, good works) either in whole or in part to God for the souls in purgatory.

4. He who has made the Heroic Act even in its most ample form, that is, by offering the suffrages in whole to God, is not by any means prevented from offering suffrages for this or that particular soul, as he pleases. For it must needs be that each one should have the power of satisfying his special obligations, which frequently arise.

5. The Heroic Act is always revocable; and once revoked, it may again be made or renewed. This revocation, as well as this renewal, may be explicit or implicit. For instance, one who has made the Heroic Act cannot per se gain a jubilee indulgence for himself. But if he wishes, he can certainly acquire it for himself, inasmuch as by the intention of gaining an indulgence of this kind he revokes the Heroic Act; and, having acquired it, that act again obtains its force and efficacy, unless it has been perpetually revoked.

From these principles we gather that the Heroic Act may be made permanently or for a definite time only. We also gather that if one wishes to be sure of gaining the indulgence of the Apostolic Blessing or the plenary indulgence imparted in the confessional by those who have that special faculty, one may revoke the Heroic Act for that purpose and then renew it again. It suffices that this be done mentally.

The Heroic Act is not a vow but partakes more of the nature of an offering made to God and to Mary and is revocable at will. It always remains doubtful to what extent God accepts this oblation. The practice of the Heroic Act is based on the communion of saints, in virtue of which the good deeds of one member of Christ’s body benefit all the other members. Its meritoriousness results from the more intense charity (love of God and His suffering friends) which inspires it. Its heroicness arises from the willingness it involves to take upon oneself the dreadful pains of purgatory for the love of one’s neighbour. For those who make it, however, there always remains the reasonable hope that God in His goodness, and the sainted souls in their gratitude, will not allow the punishment to be exacted to the full. God will surely never be outdone in generosity. For those who are a little worried about the Heroic Act and would like to have some exceptions, the above explanation will be consoling. Those who generously wish to persist in all the heroicness of the act will probably make only those exemptions suggested by number 4 above. But all are perfectly free to do as they please in this matter.

It is to be further noted (Lehmkuhl, Theol. Moralis, Vol. 1, 261) that all the good works of a just man, whether they be meritorious, satisfactory, or impetratory, also possess a satisfactory value (inasmuch as all are laborious, says Vermeersch) by which we may satisfy for the punishments due in purgatory either to our own sins or to the sins of others. All this satisfactory value is what we give to the Poor Souls through the Heroic Act, in addition to the suffrages offered for us after our death. Nor does this satisfactory value in any way diminish merit. Moreover, it purifies the soul of man and makes him more acceptable to God.

The conclusion we draw from this is that there is nothing to prevent one who has made the Heroic Act from praying (sacrificing, suffering, working) for any and every grace and blessing, be it for oneself or others, living or dead, since every good work of what kind soever possesses some satisfactory value and he has offered all such value to the poor souls. Indeed, this should be an incentive to multiply his good acts for his spiritual growth. Without his even adverting to it, he will then be constantly offering his gifts to the holy souls.

GAINING INDULGENCES

One of the conditions for gaining an indulgence is that you have the intention to gain it. If you wish to gain indulgences for yourself, it is sufficient that you have at least a general intention, one that you made with your will in a general way, to gain all the indulgences you can gain, which intention will hold good until you retract it. But it is advisable at the beginning of each day to renew your intention to gain all the indulgences that you can gain during the course of the day. However, as stated, to gain an indulgence for yourself it is not necessary that your intention be actual or virtual (virtual: without actual advertence to the will-act made); it suffices that it be habitual, once made by the will and not retracted.

So you must have the intention in order to gain indulgences for yourself. There is perhaps one exception, namely, the plenary indulgence to be gained because of the Apostolic Blessing in the hour of death, of which the Roman Ritual (Tit. V, c. 6, n. I) says that it is wont to be imparted “to those sick who either have asked for it or who in all probability would have asked for it.” Hence, in this case, and in this case alone, it seems that the intention that is called “interpretative” by theologians suffices. An interpretative intention is one that actually was not and is not but would be if one had adverted to it; it is merely a disposition of the will toward having an intention.

Now, what we have said above applies to indulgences that you can gain for yourself. When it is a question of gaining indulgences for the faithful departed, an express and actual intention to do so is required, unless one has made the Heroic Act in favour of the Poor Souls. In other words, when you wish to gain indulgences for the Poor Souls, a general intention to gain them is not sufficient, you must have an explicit and at least habitual intention to gain them for the Poor Souls. Hence, it is advisable that when you wish to gain all the indulgences you can gain during a certain day for the Poor Souls, you make just that intention in the morning, unless, we repeat, you have made the Heroic Act, in which case all the indulgences you can gain at any time are already given in advance to the Poor Souls, and that implicit intention suffices.

We might mention one exception to the above. It is the indulgence of the privileged altar, because in that case the Mass is in itself privileged, inasmuch as a Mass offered on a privileged altar is in itself enriched with a plenary indulgence for the deceased. Hence, the application of this indulgence does not depend upon the intention, not even upon the virtual intention of the priest who offers the Mass or of the one who gives the stipend. The reason for this is that this indulgence is applied by the priest as a minister of the Church. And just as the priest is not free to offer or not to offer the Sacrifice in the name of the Church, so neither is he free not to apply the indulgence which the Church has annexed to that particular oblation. (Cf. De Angelis, De Indulgentiis, nn. 64,65.)

We may add that according to Canon 930 all the indulgences granted by the Roman Pontiff, through himself or through the Roman Curia, are applicable to the souls in purgatory, unless otherwise stated. Moreover, there are some indulgences which are applicable to the Poor Souls alone, such as the plenary indulgences that can be gained on All Souls’ Day as often as one who has received the Sacraments visits the church and says six Our Fathers, six Hail Marys, and six Glorys for the intention of the Holy Father. Two ejaculatory prayers that have indulgences applicable only to the holy souls are the following, each having an indulgence of 300 days each time: “Eternal rest grant unto them, O Lord; and let perpetual light shine upon them. May they rest in peace. Amen.”

“Merciful Lord Jesus, grant them everlasting rest.”

The following is one way of making the Heroic Act (remember it is not a vow and does not in any way bind under pain of sin, i.e., it may be freely retracted at any time without sin): “O my heavenly Father, in union with the merits of Jesus and Mary, I offer thee for the holy souls in purgatory all the satisfactory works of my whole life, including all the indulgences that I gain, as well as all the works which will be offered for me and all the indulgences that will be gained for me after my death. And these works I place in the hands of the Immaculate Virgin Mary, that she may apply them to those souls whom she, in her wisdom and maternal love, desires to free soonest from purgatory. Mercifully accept, O God, this offering and let me increase daily in thy grace. Amen.”

We add that the faithful who make the Heroic Act in favor of the Poor Souls may gain a plenary indulgence, applicable only to the departed, on any day that they receive Holy Communion, provided they have made their confession and visited some church or public oratory and said at least one Our Father, Hail Mary, and Glory for the intention of the Pope. They can also gain a plenary indulgence on any Monday of the year (or, if prevented then, on the following Sunday) if they hear Mass in suffrage of the holy souls and fulfill the usual conditions, i.e., confession, Communion, visit, prayer as above for the Pope’s intention.

Priests who have made the Heroic Act enjoy the indult of a personal privileged altar every day of the year.

N.B. Religious who have no church or public oratory of their own attached to their house may visit the semi-public chapel in their house and yet comply with the above visit to a church or public oratory. (Cf. Canon 929.)

FACTS ABOUT INDULGENCES

An indulgence is a remission in whole or in part of the temporal punishment due to sin. Often temporal punishment remains due to a sinner after eternal punishment has been remitted. That temporal punishment consists in sufferings which God will inflict upon the soul in this life or in purgatory, until it has paid all its debts and is quite free from stain.

But this debt of temporal punishment can also be paid by gaining indulgences. One can gain indulgences either for oneself or for the poor souls.

An indulgence is plenary when all the punishment due to sin may be remitted by it. It is partial when a part of the temporal punishment is remitted.

How much temporal punishment is remitted by a partial indulgence of 600 days, for instance? We give the following popular explanation.

In the early ages of the Church the penances imposed for sin were much more severe than are those now usually given. There were public penances, severe fasts, wearing of sackcloth and ashes, and such like severities. Some penances were called canonical, because they were imposed, not at the mere will of the confessor, but according to certain canons, or laws, of the Church. So, for instance, for breaking the Sabbath one had to fast three days on bread and water; ten days for talking in church. A penance of from three to ten years was imposed for disobedience; of ten years for adulterers; of a lifetime for murderers. Such penitents were, moreover, excluded from church or made to stand at the door in penitential garb. By doing this penance they obtained remission of temporal punishments due to their sins.

Now, when we say that one gains an indulgence of 500 days, for instance, we do not mean that one’s purgatory is shortened by 600 days. We mean that as much temporal punishment is remitted by God as would have been remitted by 500 days of the severe canonical penance of the early ages of the Church.

This being so, what a treasure indulgences really are! Those are, indeed, truly wise in the Holy Spirit who strive to gain as many as they can.

And those who make the intention and gain indulgences for the Poor Souls will be sending many souls from purgatory to heaven and will merit a great reward. “Amen, I say to you, inasmuch as you did it to one of these you did it to me” . . .”I was in prison and you came to me.”

CONDENSED INFORMATION

Canon 911 of the Code of Canon Law says that “indulgences should be greatly esteemed by all.” And we must often recall gaining of indulgences is of greater advantage to us than the gaining of all earthly goods and that we ought cheerfully to take upon ourselves the little trouble which their gaining may cause us.

Then Canon 928 says that a partial indulgence may be gained as often as the works prescribed are repeated, unless the contrary is expressly stated. This Canon also says that, unless the contrary is expressly stated, a plenary indulgence may be gained only once a day, even though the same work is performed several times.

It is perhaps because of a wrong understanding of this Canon that some people have the erroneous notion that more than one plenary indulgence can never be gained on the same day. The notion is erroneous. The Canon says, “Unless the contrary is expressly stated”; and the contrary is expressly stated regarding various plenary indulgences. Again, the Canon speaks about the same work. It does not say that more than one plenary indulgence cannot be gained on the same day for different works.

HELPFUL ITEMS

Now, when we reflect on some of the recent decrees on indulgences and see how matters stand today, we can enumerate the following helpful items of information.

1. As regards for the Pope’s intentions, we find that for the Portiuncula indulgence the faithful are at each visit to the church to say the Our Father, Hail Mary, and Glory six times. No other prayers will do.

2. So, too, for all such toties quoties plenary indulgences (os often as the church is visited)- e.g., All Souls’ Day, Rosary Sunday for the members of the Confraternity- six Our Fathers, Hail Marys, and Glorys are prescribed. No other prayers will do.

3. According to a special decree, one Our Father, Hail Mary, and Glory for the Pope’s intentions, or the equivalent, is sufficient for gaining other plenary indulgences, for instance, like the one that can be gained for saying the prayer before an image of the Crucified after Holy Communion.

4. Indulgences attached to ejaculatory prayers and invocations, according to a special decree, can be gained also if the prayers are said only mentally.

5. Canon 934 says that mental prayer alone is not sufficient when prayer for the Pope’s intentions is prescribed; so vocal prayers are then required, that is to say, the words must be uttered exteriorly, though they need not be audible.

6. If one has also confessed and received Holy Communion, a plenary indulgence may be gained as often as one says the Rosary of five decades before the Blessed Sacrament, either exposed or reserved in the tabernacle. No prayers for the Pope’s intentions are in this case prescribed or necessary.

7. One plenary indulgence can be gained each time the Way of the Cross is made; and one additional plenary indulgence the first time on Communion days. The same indulgence can be gained with a crucifix enriched with the indulgences of the Way of the Cross when one is legitimately impeded from making the stations proper. No prayers for the Pope’s intentions prescribed.

8. A plenary indulgence, under the usual conditions, except that the prayers for the Pope’s intentions may be said anywhere, may be gained daily for reciting the whole of the Divine Office before the Blessed Sacrament, even if divided into parts. (There are partial indulgences for such recitation of a part of the Divine Office.)

9. The words of Canon 934, n. 2, to the effect that “indulgences (annexed to prayers) entirely cease because of any addition, subtraction, or interpolation whatsoever,” are not to be understood rigorously of any and every addition, etc., but rather only of those which alter the substance of the prayers. (Sacred Penitentiary, Nov. 26, 1934.)

OTHER POINTS

As we think over these generous concessions, a number of other points come to mind.

1. The usual conditions for gaining a plenary indulgence are: confession; Communion; visit to a church or public oratory (or semi-public oratory for those who have the right to use it, if no church or public oratory is attached, provided nothing special is prescribed); prayer for the Pope’s intentions. It is to be noted that the usual conditions are not always prescribed, e.g., none of them are really prescribed for gaining the indulgence of the Way of the Cross.

2. The parish church, etc., does not concern the Sisters who have a chapel, when a visit is prescribed for the gaining of an indulgence, no matter how near it is.

3. Confession ceases to be a condition for daily communicants or those who go at least five times a week, or for those who confess at least twice a month, except for a Jubilee indulgence.

4. The Pope’s intentions are, ordinarily:

1. The spread of the Catholic Faith. 2. The liberty and exaltation of Holy Mother Church. 3. The conversion of sinners. 4. Peace and concord among Christian rulers. 5. The extirpation of heresy. These intentions need not be known or adverted to, however. It suffices simply to pray for the Pope’s intentions.

SOME PLENARY INDULGENCES

So, taking the foregoing as a sort of basis, we find that the following are some plenary indulgences that may be gained each day, observing what is to be observed. All are applicable to the Poor Souls.

1. One plenary indulgence for saying the prayer before an image of the Crucified after Holy Communion. No visit to church prescribed. One Our Father, Hail Mary, and Glory for the Pope’s intentions sufficient.

2. One each Communion day for those who have made the Heroic Act. Usual conditions. One Our Father, Hail Mary, and Glory for the Pope’s intentions sufficient.

3. One each day, under the usual conditions, for saying the prayer to Christ the King, which begins: “O Christ Jesus, I acknowledge Thee to be the King of the universe. . . .” One Our Father, Hail Mary, and Glory for the Pope’s intentions sufficient.

4. One each day for saying the whole breviary for the day before the Blessed Sacrament. Confession and Communion. One Our Father, Hail Mary, and Glory for the Pope’s intentions.

5. One each time for saying the Rosary before the Blessed Sacrament. The conditions are confession and Communion. No prayers for the Holy Father required. The decades may be separated, provided the five are said within the same day.

6. Two plenary indulgences for the first time the Way of the Cross is made on Communion day. One each additional time, the only condition for this one being the state of grace, which is, of course, necessary for all indulgences.

7. Visit the church and say one Our Father, Hail Mary, and Glory for the Pope’s intentions, in order to gain any indulgence you may be able to gain because of prayers said daily for a certain length of time (as “Jesus, Mary, Joseph”), because of certain feast days, Confraternity grants, etc., for which only a visit and prayer may still be needed. This visit and prayer may be all that is still needed to gain a plenary indulgence and if so. God knows, you may gain it.

LITTLE INDULGENCED PRAYERS

Indulgences of seven years for each of the following each time it is said, even mentally. (If you wish the indulgence to go to the Poor Souls, let that be your intention.)

1. Jesus, Mary, Joseph.

2. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, I give you my heart and my soul.

3. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, assist me in my last agony.

4. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, let me breathe forth my spirit in peace with you.

5. My Lord and my God, being truly sorry for my sins and loving Thee above all things, I now profess my willingness cheerfully to accept from Thy hand whatever kind of death it may please Thee to send me, with all its sorrows, pain, and anguish. Amen.

6. My Lord and my God! (But only at the Elevation of the Host at Mass or during Exposition.)

7. The longer ejaculatory prayer beginning “Soul of Christ, be my sanctification,” if recited after Holy Communion.

8. Making the Sign of the Cross with holy water, pronouncing the words.

Indulgence of three years for each of the following each time it is said, even mentally.

1. My God, I believe in Thee, because Thou art truth itself.

2. My God, I hope in Thee, because Thou are kind and faithful to Thy promises.

3. My God, I love Thee above all things, because Thou art all good, and I love my neighbour as myself, for love of Thee.

4. My God, I am truly sorry for my sins, because I love Thee Who art so very good, and I firmly purpose to sin no more.

5. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen. (While saying this you must make the Sign of the Cross.)

6. By the sign of the holy Cross, deliver us from our enemies, O our God.

7. We adore Thee, O Christ, and we bless Thee, because by Thy holy cross Thou hast redeemed the world.

8. Graciously give peace, O Lord, in our days, that, being assisted by the help of Thy mercy, we may ever be free from sin and safe from all disturbance. Amen.

9. Be mindful of us, O blessed Joseph, and intercede for us with thy foster-Son by the pleading of thy prayer: do thou, in like manner, render the blessed Virgin Mary thy Spouse, gracious unto us, for she is the Mother of Him, who with the Father and Holy Ghost liveth and reigneth world without end. Amen.

10. Grant unto us. Lord Jesus, ever to follow the example of Thy holy Family, that in the hour of our death Thy glorious Virgin Mother together with blessed Joseph may come to meet us and we may be worthily received by Thee into everlasting dwellings: Who livest and reignest world without end. Amen.

11. Grant, we beseech Thee, O Lord, that in the hour of our death we may be refreshed by Thy holy Sacraments and delivered from all guilt, and so deserve to be received with joy into the arms of Thy mercy. Through Christ our Lord. Amen.

Indulgence of 600 days for each of the following each time it is said, even mentally.

1. To the King of ages, immortal and invisible, the only God, be honour and glory for ever and ever. Amen.

2. May the most just, the most high, and the most lovable will of God be in all things done, praised, and evermore exalted.

3. Teach me, O Lord, to do Thy will, for Thou art my God.

4. O God, be merciful to me, a sinner.

5. O God, Thou art all-powerful, make me a saint.

6. O God, come unto my assistance: O Lord, make haste to help me.

7. Deliver me, O Lord, from mine enemies.

8. Holy Trinity, one God, have mercy on

11. To Thee be praise, to Thee be glory, to Thee be thanksgiving through endless ages, O Blessed Trinity.

12. Lord, increase our faith.

13. Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me.

14. Lord Jesus Christ, Thou only art holy. Thou only art the Lord, Thou only art the Most High.

15. Heart of Jesus, burning with love for us, set our hearts on fire with love of Thee.

16. Most Sacred Heart of Jesus, have mercy on us.

17. O Lord, send labourers into Thy harvest.

18. Come, O Lord, and do not delay.

19. Hail, O Cross, our only hope.

20. God the Holy Ghost, have mercy on us.

21. May the grace of the Holy Spirit enlighten our senses and our hearts.

Indulgence of 300 days for each of the following each time it is said, even mentally.

1. My God, my only God, Thou art all mine; may I be always Thine.

2. All through Thee, with Thee, and in Thee, O my God!

3. Lord, I am nothing, but, although nothing, I adore Thee.

4. My God, I love Thee.

5. My Jesus, mercy.

6. Jesus, My God, I love Thee above all things.

7. Jesus, for Thee I live; Jesus, for Thee I die; Jesus, I am Thine in life and in death. Amen.

8. Blessed be Jesus Christ and His most pure Mother!

9. Jesus, for love of Thee, with Thee and for Thee.

10. O Jesus, with all my heart I cling to Thee.

11. Jesus.

12. Mary.

13. Joseph (when said in spiritual or corporal necessities.)

14. O Jesus, in the Blessed Sacrament, have mercy on us.

15. I adore Thee every moment, O living Bread from heaven, great Sacrament!

16. Heart of Jesus, I put my trust in Thee!

17. Sacred Heart of Jesus, I believe in Thy love for me.

18. All for Thee, Most Sacred Heart of Jesus.

19. Sacred Heart of Jesus, I give myself to Thee through Mary.

20. Holy Mary, deliver us from the pains of hell.

In the Raccolta, which is the official English translation of the Church’s official collection of prayers and devotions enriched with indulgences, which in Latin is called Enchiridion Indulgentiarum (Handbook of Indulgences), and which was last issued March 3, 1952, there are 781 such prayers and devotions.

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The Church Supreme And Independent

BY REV. P. J. GANNON, S.J

INDEX

IT was on account of this principle that the martyrs perished in the Coliseum. For the instinctive antipathy of the Roman Empire to the infant Church was due to the jealousy of one supreme authority for another. No doubt, other causes and motives entered in. Pagan laxity took fright at the austere morality of the new faith; Roman pride and prejudice revolted against what seemed an Oriental superstition of Jewish origin and with servile or at least plebeian affiliations. But the action of the state authorities was dictated by an appreciation of the fact that here was a new and mysterious institution, which did not trace its charter to the Caesars, and claimed for itself a spiritual jurisdiction and independence apparently incompatible with the suprema potestas of a ruler who, when living, was styled Pontifex Maximus and, when dead, was enrolled among the gods.

Even the early Christian emperors chafed under the claims of the Church, and strove to evade them openly or covertly. We see the tendency already in Constantine, and still more in many of his successors, who imagined that in patronising the Church they established a right to enslave it. They succeeded in the East with the most disastrous results, first to the Church and secondly to the State; for history is full of ironical revenges. They failed in the West, because the successors of St. Peter knew their dignity and were able to maintain their rights.

But where the early empire failed, the later Germanic Empire tried again, and thus originated that long duel between Pope and Emperor which held Europe in turmoil for many a day. It was in vindication of the supremacy and independence of the Church that Hildebrand forced Henry to come to Canossa, and later died in exile himself. It was in essentially the same cause that Thomas Becket fell on the altar-steps of Canterbury Cathedral.

For a brief period in the thirteenth century Catholic principles triumphed, with results to both Church and State which may be commended to the calm consideration of all who assume that the Church’s independence clashes with the interests of the State.

But the struggle began anew under a grandson of St. Louis, and from being a dispute among canonists and jurists, developed by slow degrees into a very complex, very bitter, very disastrous conflict of policies, economic systems, national aspirations, and cultural ideals. It ended in the Protestant revolt of the sixteenth century, when the whole conception of a Catholic or universal Church, one in creed, one in cult, and one in jurisdiction, was challenged by the emergence of numerous local churches, each the creature of the State and thus its vassal, not venturing to claim independence and utterly incapable of asserting it. It was in protest against this attempt to reform Catholicism out of existence that the English and Irish Martyrs testified unto blood.

And the issue is with us still. It has passed through various phases and assumed various disguises. But Gallicanism and Napoleonism in Catholic France, Bismarkism in Protestant Prussia, evolving under our eyes into more radical and more devastating heresies, carry the question up to date, and are but milestones in the secular struggle between the Church striving to be free and the State endeavouring to rob it of its liberty.

If the victory of the State merely meant humiliation for churchmen, it might not be an unmixed evil. For humiliation, which is the only road to humility, is useful for all of us, for priests and pontiffs, no less than for politicians and princes. But the consequences are in reality far graver, graver indeed than the ordinary citizen perceives. For the ordinary citizen is little versed in the philosophy of history and little trained in systematic thinking. He is often impatient or indignant if asked to take long views and envisage ultimate consequences. He is unsuspicious of the dangers lurking in plausible, but inadequately thought-out, theories; he is at the mercy of the isolated instance of the incomplete induction, as against the operation of general laws; and his trust in the good intentions of individuals often blinds him to the logic of events. Thus it happens that the ordinary citizen, who is well-meaning on the whole, is perpetually at the mercy of unscrupulous propaganda or ingenious special pleading. Thus it is, too, that, even when a loyal Catholic at heart, he is often half *Revised edition; first edition, 1927 persuaded that the Church’s claims are excessive, and that the State is endangered by the presence in its midst of another society claiming independence and supremacy.

But the fact is, and the whole history of Christianity enforces the lesson, that whenever and wherever the State encroaches upon the Church’s rights, both suffer. The Church reduced to vassalage becomes identified with the successful regime of the moment, shares the blame of its mistakes, grows feeble with its decay, and perishes in its fall. Within our own lifetime we have seen two State Churches go down in ruins with the Romanoffs and Hohenzollerns. In the French Revolution a local Catholic Church shared the fate of a dynasty with which under the influence of Gallicanism it had become too closely identified. Such a result need never happen if Catholic principles are understood in theory and honoured in practice-both large “ifs,” I admit.

But first in theory. Without that there is little hope of the practice, which only too often falls far short of our theories and ideals, but obviously must go wrong if based on wrong principles. It will be my endeavour in this booklet to clear up, as far as I can, the Catholic theory, with the two-fold admission that hitherto it has been more honoured in the breach than in the observance, and that the fault for its non-observance has not always lain at the door of the politicians, though undoubtedly for the most part at their door.

Catholic teaching, then, recognises two and only two perfect societies, each in its own sphere supreme and independent, namely, Church and State. All others exist within the bosom and subject to the jurisdiction of one or other of these two. Both these societies derive their charter from God, the source and fountain-head of all legitimate authority; but in different ways. The State arises from the essentially social nature of man, and the need of ordered government if many men are to live in community, co-operate for common ends, and act in harmony. Anarchy is not only immoral in theory; it is impossible in practice. Some individual or individuals must in point of fact and under all circumstances exercise domination. And anarchy in practice is nothing else than the domination of the most criminal elements over the rest. It engenders such evils that commonly it leads to the despotism of some strong man, who armed with the tacit consent of the afflicted people, reasserts the reign of law and puts the criminals in their place. Such a dictatorship is not easy to defend in the abstract theory; but in the concrete it is sometimes a necessity brought about by the folly or wickedness of men. It marks the political bankruptcy of a people, and can, I think, only be justified as a provisional arrangement to bridge over the existing chaos and pave the way for a return to political solvency.

The State, therefore, in some shape -or other, under one or other of the many forms of government it may assume, arises by a law of nature which is interpretatively the will of God, and has from that law all that it needs for the performance of its functions. These functions are to be derived from its end or purpose, which is the temporal well-being of the subjects. Rulers exist for the good of the ruled,’ not vice versa. This principle is admitted by all Catholic thinkers. The divine right of kings to govern ill is not Catholic doctrine at all, though often vaguely styled medieval and attributed to the Scholastics by writers who never opened an approved author of the Schools.

Nay, I hold, though the contrary opinion gained considerable support during the nineteenth century, that power comes to rulers from God, indeed, but through the people. Nor is this at all identical with saying that the rulers must be chosen by popular election, though that again would seem to be the most obvious way, and is the basic principle of most modern states. It is sufficient that the people acquiesce in any form of rule to give that rule its charter. I do not, however, mean the acquiescence of despair, when a defeated and helpless people cower under the lash of tyranny and injustice. I mean a real acceptance of a rule which, though not set up by popular election, is yet manifestly ratified by popular consent, approval or contentment. Further, I think the charter lapses when a system fails in its primary duty of procuring the common weal. I personally cannot accept the theory that, however a regime comes into being, it acquires a divine right to continue indefinitely, even when it has outlived its usefulness and forfeited its hold upon the loyalty of the subjects. That, it seems to me, would be to condemn the world to political stagnation and nations to inner decay.

There is doubtless danger of abuse in this view, as also in any other that may be propounded. But abuse is excluded by many corrective considerations. For first, possession is nine-tenths of the law. The gravest reasons are required to justify the dislocation and confusion inherent in any fundamental change of system. Secondly, such change, when called for, should be accomplished by the constitutional expression of the people’s will. Violent revolution, with all its inevitable evils, can only occur when the old and discredited regime refuses to bow to the will of the people and endeavours to resist reform by the exercise of force. In other words, strife enters in, not by the acceptance of the theory here defended but through the repudiation of it by some section of the community or by an external power endeavouring to thwart its operation.

But the Church’s charter differs considerably from that of the State. It comes direct to her from God. It was conferred on her when Christ Himself said: “Going, therefore, teach ye all nations and behold I am, with you all days even to the consummation of the world.” The Church which He established is a spiritual kingdom, the nature of which must be carefully considered. It is not localised but universal: “Teach ye all nations.” It is not ephemeral or changing, as state-systems obviously are, but perpetual and, in its essential constitution, unchangeable. As it was in the time of the Apostles, so it has remained and must remain to the end of time. It is monarchial, because St. Peter and his successors are the divinely appointed rulers of the City of God on earth. But the Pope is not an absolute autocrat. The episcopacy, too, is of divine institution and cannot be dispensed with. The Pope and the bishops constitute the Hierarchy of the kingdom, through which both the power or orders and spiritual jurisdiction descend in due degree to all subordinate ministers of the Church.

Now this Hierarchy, being of immediate divine institution, does not derive its powers from the faithful and still less from the State. It is in its own sphere-the spiritual sphere-directly dependent on Christ, its invisible Head, and answerable to Him alone. From Him it derives all the powers requisite for carrying out His work, and this means that relative to all human authority it is supreme and independent. It has never sought permission of the State to preach its Gospel, ordain its ministers, or administer its sacraments. It has claimed, and baldly claimed, that it has a mission to mankind which it must needs fulfil. No state has the moral right, however much it may have the physical power, to exclude the Church from its borders. Many have attempted to do so from the days of Nero onwards. But in the attempt they have been resisting the will of God, and usually they have failed in the long run.

When the faith enters any land and makes converts, there arises what is called a particular Church, sometimes known as a national Church, though the title is dangerous in its import. Just as we speak of the Four Gospels where the early Church more accurately spoke of the One Gospel of Christ according to four different evangelists, so it is more correct to speak of the one Church of Christ spread in different localities and therefore distinguishable geographically or ethnographically. If the Church, for reasons of administrative convenience, has organised itself according to national frontiers, that is no denial of the organic unity of those various branches, which spring from one trunk and live only as long as they remain part of the one tree. Still less is it a surrender of those local churches to the jurisdiction of the various states in matters ecclesiastical. Such local Churches, retaining thus their organic relation to the main stem and endowed with full spiritual supremacy and independence as against the State, come into contact with the latter in a whole host of ways, and their relations, always delicate and sometimes really difficult, are of the gravest moment for both. They give rise to numerous problems which it would be insincere to describe as simple. On the contrary, they are complicated, and, at times, highly controversial. They call for restraint and statesmanship on both sides. They can only be solved by good will on both sides. And they can never be solved unless the principles I am enunciating are honoured by both.

The Church does not claim and has never claimed to exercise civil jurisdiction over the State. Where she has exercised temporal power, as in the States of the Church, or in bishoprics that were also principalities, and when, as in the thirteenth century, she is seen acting as a sort of supreme court of appeal between the princes of Christendom, we meet with something quite accidental, springing from definite historical causes, and claiming only that impartial inquisition which it so rarely receives. I am not concerned with it at all in this booklet, for I am dealing with the far more fundamental question of the Church’s position in a State owing no political allegiance to pope or pontiff.

Yet even in such a State the Church is supreme and independent in the spiritual sphere, and cannot acknowledge any subjection in that sphere. To do so would be to betray its trust, and destroy its efficacy. Even the partial concessions, wrung from it at times by the powers and principalities of this world, have always proved subversive of its influence for good and detrimental to its religious spirit. The right of nomination or veto, sometimes conceded to the State in regard to bishoprics, has uniformly led to weakness and timidity in the high places of the Church.

If this claim to independence and supremacy seems exorbitant, liable to abuse, or inimical to the interests of the State, as setting up an imperium in imperio, I reply, first, that if it came from God, as we are taught to believe, it cannot be called exorbitant; secondly, that all power in the hands of men is liable to abuse, yet it must rest in some hands and should be as safe in the hands of bishops as in the hands of princes, ministers of state, or politicians; thirdly, that there is question, not of an imperium in imperio, but of the co-existence in the same body corporate of two distinct supreme powers, having different ends and functions, each armed with the plenitude of power in its own domain. So far from this being detrimental to the State I think it will prove on fair consideration highly beneficial. For the State is only the people organised for its temporal interests, while the Church is the people organised for its spiritual and eternal interests. Now the existence of two supreme powers in different spheres is really a safeguard for the people against the abuse of power by either authority. They balance one another, and tend to produce an equilibrium making for the security of the governed.

It is a fact of history, admitted by the most biassed historians, that the Church has often proved the bulwark of civic freedom against the despotic tendency of rulers. Even the political power of the Church, often, I admit, considerable, has always come to it through great and abiding services rendered in the political, social or economic spheres. The Church has been a moral force holding in check the physical force which the army and the taxes put into the hands of kings and their ministers. You cannot be too much upon your guard relative to the so-called tyranny of the Church. I have no wish to deny either the possibility of such tyranny or its actuality in certain times and places. I am not called upon here to enter into an apology for the Church’s use of its influence in every land and era. Priests can abuse power as they can abuse wealth, or sin in any other way. If you will not accept a Church or acknowledge its jurisdiction till all its ministers are impeccable and infallible you will go without a Church till the Day of Judgment.

But surely it is clear that the Church can never attain to any influence in temporal affairs except by its hold upon the affections of the people. Christianity never set out, like Islamism, with a horde of armed fanatics to impose its message by force. It has won, wherever it won, in virtue of a spiritual excellence which brought men captive to the feet of Christ. And the faithful are not such fools as to give their hearts to hypocrites or tyrants. Neither do they pour their gifts upon the Church without some consciousness of benefits received. I say it boldly, the reverence and gratitude of the faithful are, and must always remain, the source of whatever power the Church wields. Wherever she has relied, ever so slightly, on other motives or other appeals she has failed to attain her ends, and defeated her own purpose. Hence any abuse of power leads automatically to the loss of it. The Church can only exercise tyranny over a people in conspiracy with some existing state-regime, a tyranny which must undermine its own foundations and lead to its own fall when in the fullness of time both imperia go down before the indignation of the people. I think you can almost measure mathematically the influence of any Church at any time or in any place by the confidence its children retain in it and the affection they have for it. No other basis of influence is either creditable to it or permanently possible. Only on such a basis can it hope to accomplish its own spiritual mission or confer upon the State the immense benefits that may be confidently expected, if proper harmony exists between the two great powers that rule the life of a nation.

The State which seeks to enslave the Church is really digging two graves -its own and that of the Church. The higher interests of both institutions are inseparably united. No Church can fulfil its functions satisfactorily under tyranny or anarchy. Political discontent, instability and unrest create numerous difficulties-sometimes baffling solution-for the Church, which would be bound to preach peace and pray for it from the lower motive of self-preservation, if it had not the still higher one of the Master’s command.

On the other hand, no nation can flourish or enjoy stable government without religion. The very foundation of all government is law-abidingness. This gone, what remains but a trial of wits between the rulers and the ruled in which ultimately the reluctant subjects must prevail and render ordered life impossible. But law-abidingness in any vast multitude supposes a recognition of, and a respect for, authority; and authority divorced from God is like a building resting on sand or mud. It must perish. Unless men feel conscientiously bound to obey, they will not long obey. Mere penal enactments cannot hold vast masses of men in subjection for any length of time. History proves this or it proves nothing. Hence where the religious bond decays, nations oscillate between tyranny and anarchy till they pass away. They crumble from within or are conquered from without. There is no alternative. You must not be deceived by the relatively slow process of disintegration. The life of a people is not like the life of an individual. It is measured by centuries, or at least by generations, where the individual life is measured by years. The least observant can detect senility in an individual. It requires a keener penetration to trace the laws governing the rise and fall of empires, states and kingdoms. But there is a close analogy, at least, if not a perfect similarity between the two processes, and one of the surest symptoms of approaching national downfall is the loosening of the religious bond, with its inevitable corollary, the loosing of all moral bonds. And if this loosening manifests itself simultaneously in many nations, then you are witnessing the slow break-up of the civilisation to which they belong. And that is the reason why we hear so much about the danger to European civilisation, which in simple historical verity, is the by-product (not the primary purpose or result) of Christianity, but which has largely apostatised from the faith that made it possible. That is the situation of today in its larger aspect, and unless our supreme culture, which calls itself the only civilisation of the world, seeks again the sources of inspiration from which it once drew all its higher life, its end is easily foreseen, though the date of its dissolution and the manner of it may be beyond the prevision of man.

But if the Church is to teach discipline to men it must be accepted as its Founder moulded it. Many complain that its claims are large ones; they are, but its services are greater still, all the greater because to a large extent invisible. A modern novelist has written: “Nothing but a Church will do. All the other schemes of democracy have come to naught for want of that. The lecture-platform is no substitute for Sinai . . . The underground system of the human being is the thing that must first be set right. Mere nagging negations will never serve. Without religion, how is man, the essentially religious animal, to face the most tremendous of all problems-social justice? Religion. . . . is his breath of life. Such progress as he has made has ever been in accordance with such religions as he has had” (Richard Whiteing: N0.5 John St. Epilogue). But if the Church is, in the familiar phrase, “to deliver the goods,” it must be, in its own sphere, independent and supreme. Let the people suspect for a moment that its religious teaching or its moral judgments are decided, or even swayed, by the politicians and its influence for good is gone. Hence the state that first subjugates it and then bids it preach the duty of obedience finds by a very just nemesis that the support it leans on breaks like a withered bough.

But I am sure no Christian will question the right of the Church to supremacy and independence in the spiritual sphere. That the State should interfere in the jurisdiction of the Church in matters purely spiritual is so obvious an aggression that we need not stay to reason with anyone who upholds it. He cannot be a sincere believer in the Divinity of Christ or in the commission given by Him to His Church. On the other hand, the Church nowhere claims jurisdiction in purely temporal affairs. Churchmen have their civic rights and duties like other men, and they are free, nay bound, to exercise them like the rest of the body corporate. But their words and actions in such matters must be sharply distinguished from their words and actions as ministers of the Church. Priests and bishops may have their views on Tariff Reform, for example, or Bimetalism. They may vote or even plead for one or other in such controversies. Their arguments have then the value that springs from the cogency of the reasoning; their example the force that comes to it from men’s trust in their competence and integrity. But no more. In temporal affairs of State their voice is the voice of citizens.

All this is, I take it, quite plain and unexceptionable unless from those who have imbibed the vague anti-clericalism floating around in the modern world, which would gladly get rid of priests everywhere, but failing that insists that they shall never speak or act outside the sanctuary or sacristy. No difficulty would ever suggest itself to a genuine Christian if the spiritual and political spheres were so clearly divided that they never overlapped or grew entangled, that is, if questions of a mixed category never arose.

But such questions do arise, and must arise. Religion and morality embrace the whole of life, to this extent at least, that all man’s activities in every sphere of conduct must conform to natural and divine law. The State is no more exempt from subservience to the law of God than the individual. And acts of public policy in a Christian country ought to conform to Christian ethics. The laws of the State do not create morality. They, if just, must embody the principles of Divine law, and apply them to the particular circumstances of a given people. There is a certain legalistic frame of mind, to which lawyers are peculiarly subject (often unconsciously) which sees in any existing regime a norm of conduct imposing itself on the conscience. But first, it must be proved that the regime itself is legitimate, and secondly, it must be clear that the legislature is not exceeding its powers, an abuse which should not be lightly presumed but must be admitted as possible.

Hence, if the State were to promulgate immoral laws or to transcend its jurisdiction, the Church would be in the former case bound, in the, latter free at least, to protest against such legislation and use all its influence to defeat it. Let me add that in a well-conducted State such a situation will not frequently arise. But if it does arise let it not be said that the Church in standing for a higher law is infringing on the just claims of the State. It is only preventing that institution from following a course fraught with evil consequences for all parties concerned.

Again there are certain matters of the very highest moment in which both Church and State are immediately and deeply interested. The education of youth is one of many such questions. Neither can ignore the claims of the child. He is a citizen of the State and, if baptized, a subject of the Church. His education will determine largely the kind of citizen and the kind of Christian he will be. I think it was Daniel Webster who said that the best way to make a man a good citizen is to make him a good Christian. And I am sure all Catholics will subscribe to this view. But, in addition to his duties as a Christian, the youth has to learn many purely secular things, fitting him to be a useful member of society and not a mere drone in the hive through laziness or sheer incompetence.

Here, then, we have a sphere where both ‘jurisdictions have an interest that is evident and a duty that is paramount. And such being the case there is every possibility of a conflict of wills. Where difficulties arise every effort should be made to find some formula of reconciliation, some modus agendi that will safeguard the rights of all concerned, of the children, their parents, the Church and the State. Nor is this nearly as hard as might appear. For the claims of all parties can be very happily reconciled, if only there is goodwill all round and a recognition of man’s whole nature and entire destiny.

In earlier days the Church took upon herself gratuitously the burden of education in every branch of learning. It is historically certain that she founded nearly all the earlier universities and schools, endowed them, and gave them their charters. She was the mother of the arts and sciences when kings were nearly illiterate, and devoted their energies almost exclusively to warfare or the chase. Her enemies, who never acknowledge a decent or unselfish impulse in the hearts of Churchmen, say she created a monopoly of education, in order to reduce the human intellect to servitude. The truth is that she acquired the monopoly because she had no competitor. She found the mind of Europe, after the barbarian invasions, as wild and uncultivated as its soil, and she undertook the cultivation of both, because she saw that she must civilise in order to Christianise.

But today she could not, even if she desired, undertake the whole task of education. The State must co-operate. Yet that does not entitle it to set the Church aside or ignore her claims to mould to religion and morality the young lives that are hers by Baptism as much as they are the State’s by the locality of their birth.

Again the institution of marriage, though primarily a private affair between the two contracting parties, has such important moral, religious and social aspects that again neither Church nor State can leave it entirely to the play of passion or individual caprice. And thus we have another wide and thorny field for discussion. I have explained elsewhere the Church’s teaching on this momentous question and, need not linger on it here. I only take these two as examples of what I call mixed questions. Many more could be cited. And on all of them the harmonious co-operation of both supreme, powers can alone ensure healthy conditions or Christian progress. Accommodation is always possible when goodwill exists. The Church has no interest that really clashes with the interests of the State properly understood. She is by instinct and long tradition accommodating and diplomatic, where fundamental principles are not at stake. Her ministers are in the main just as patriotic and as enlightened as the politicians. They have everything to gain and nothing to lose by the temporal well-being of the people, rightly conceived and not purchased at the expense of their souls. Hence in abstract theory strife need never arise, if only passion and prejudice on one side or the other or both does not create it.

But let us suppose that it does arise and that the two powers are in conflict on a mixed issue, which should prevail? Well, on Catholic principles, the Church. I know that in an age of secularism this must sound arrogant and aggressive. I cannot help that. I can only assert that it flows logically from premises that seem incontrovertible. The Church is guardian of higher interests than the State-spiritual interests. She, has, moreover, a charter more immediately from God. She has a constitution more unchanging and more sacred. She has a profounder and more comprehensive knowledge of the nature of man, his needs, his aspirations, his passions and his dangers. I may add she has now an experience of nearly 2,000 years under conditions as diversified as the life of mankind. She thus possesses a granary of garnered wisdom compared with which the wisdom of the oldest empire is but as an empty threshing floor when the harvest work is done. She is much less likely to be in error than the statecraft of the passing hour.

Besides, every supreme court of appeal has the right to define the limits of its jurisdiction. And on those mixed questions in which alone a conflict of authority can legitimately occur, the Church as the older, more venerable, more universal, more spiritual and more divine court of appeal has the right to decide what questions fall under its competence to decide. I have already pointed out that the Church is safeguarded from arbitrary abuse of power by the fact that she does not wield the sword of the State. She has no army, fleet, prisons, nor gendarmerie. She does not control the state exchequer nor patronage. She is physically defenceless before Caesar. Hence, she is not likely to challenge him wantonly to a trial of strength. And she can never hope to do so with success except when the justice of her claim is clear, and when behind that claim stands the moral approval of her children. Even then she may have to yield to force majeure. A Nero, a Domitian, a Barbarossa, an Elizabeth, a Napoleon, a Bismarck or a Calles may even deprive her for a time of power to function at all. But the policies they stand for rarely have permanence and never make for the happiness, the dignity, or the genuine progress of the peoples. Time makes an end of all their works and over their tombs the Church returns, with its imperturbable patience, to repair the ruin they have wrought. Guizot, a Protestant but also an historian, has well said: “Nations that devour the Pope perish of indigestion.” It is an astonishing thing that politicians have not yet learned the truth of these words, but still go on hoping for incompatibilities, for a Church strong to sustain the State, yet impotent to criticise it or direct it, even on those questions that it is the Church’s duty to decide and which it alone has the competence, to decide scientifically.

It does not fall within the scope of this booklet to explain the marks by which we recognise an authoritative Church pronouncement. I may say, however, that the instructed Catholic will have little difficulty in knowing when his conscience is directly challenged by the teaching decrees, or commands of the legitimate rulers of the Church. Even then an inner movement of revolt on the part of fallen nature may be experienced. But it will generally be found that docility, though it may at first appear weakness, is in reality mans highest strength and truest wisdom. It makes us one in God. It gives a solidarity linking us up with all the ages that have passed since Peter trod the Appian Way, and all the ages that are to come till the Sign of the Son of Man is in the heavens. Rome certainly makes big demands upon her children. But when we think of Canterbury today can we honestly say that they are excessive? For one thing, the imagination refuses to conjure up the spectacle of a Pius XI being led in tears from an Italian Parliament that has refused to authorise an alternative Communion service and then meekly proclaiming that the politicians have acted within their rights! Even Mussolini, the wonder worker of the secular world, could not accomplish this wonder, if he had the desire, which he was perhaps too shrewd to harbour. A Church by Law Established may have many amiable characteristics-a comprehensiveness, for instance, embracing Dean Inge and Dr. Barnes on the one hand and Canon Bullock-Webster and Lord Halifax on the other. But only a nation of which one of its bishops exclaimed: “Thank God, we are an illogical people,” could see in it any faintest resemblance to the Church which Christ founded and launched upon the sea of time with the words: “He that heareth you heareth Me; he that despiseth you despiseth Me.” We are certainly told in Scripture to “give unto Caesar the things that are Caesar’s.” But it is nowhere hinted that the authorisation of a Christian prayer-book is one of those things. Yet this Erastianism will soon be seen to follow in practice from the denial of the Church’s claim to supremacy and independence in its own sphere.

NIHIL OBSTAT:

Joseph P. Newth, C. C., Censor Theol. Deput.

IMPRIMI POTEST: @ Ioannes Carolus., Archiep. Dublinen., Hiberniae Primas.

Dublini, die 27° Februarii, anno 1957.

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The Church Unconquerable

BY REV. OWEN FRANCIS DUDLEY

INDEX

Two thousand years ago an archangel said, “Of His kingdom there shall be no end.”

For two thousand years the world has been saying, “Of His kingdom there will be an end. Christianity will perish. The Catholic Church will go.”

Towards the end of the Great War we were assured that now, at any rate, the Catholic Church was doomed: she had proved her utter incompetence to deal with the situation. She had kept on the war; she had tried to stop it. She had interfered; she had done nothing. Anyhow, whatever she had done or hadn’t done, she had failed. She was doomed.

At the present moment, while Europe is still seething with divisions and discontent, the Catholic Church stands calm and serene, strong and united-the one stable moral force in the world. And, by way of demonstrating her complete failure, nearly thirty nations now send their representatives to the throne of Peter in Rome.

FAILURE?

One notices, too, the grave concern of the secular press today over what it calls “the failure of Christianity.” You doubtless are aware of the heroic efforts of English newspapers (the same is true in America) to stem the tide of unbelief with highly paid articles from unbelievers, novelists and other theologians-”Has Christianity Failed?” “Are Dogmas Doomed?” “Are Creeds Necessary?” “Is the Fall a Fable?” “Dean Inge Abolishes Hell,” and so on.

May I prepare the way to my thesis by estimating how much truth there is in this challenge, “the failure of Christianity”? I say “challenge” because in reality all this pretended concern is so much cant, covering a hope that Christianity will fail. The world does not want Christianity, for the simple reason that it brings God so terribly close to man. The world does not want God close. “No dogmas, no creeds; let’s just be good to one another!” It sounds so well, that parrot cry. It means: “No Incarnation, no Redemption, no God come down from heaven, no Saviour for this world!”

The modern method of assisting the departure of Christianity is to suggest perpetually its failure-the suggestion method. The Protestant bodies are responding with avidity and are already honeycombed with Modernism. Modernism is a denial of the Christian revelation, an endeavour to rationalise Christianity by reducing it to the standard of human reason, the issue of which is to reduce it to naught in the minds of the drifting millions who have been pulled away from the anchorage of dogmas and creeds.

Protestantism is failing-as all heresies eventually fail-and not merely in the sense of rejecting what was left to it of the Christian revelation after the Reformation. It is failing numerically. In England, for instance, the Established Church now holds a mere fraction of the nation.

FAILED IN WHAT?

But this does not mean that Christianity is failing. It does not mean that Catholicism is failing.

Now the world strives to inculcate the idea that the Catholic Church too is a failure. It may be interesting to note the grounds on which it bases the charge at present. They are these:

First, the Catholic Church has failed to establish the universal Utopia of worldly prosperity so dear to the heart of the secular progressivist. She has neglected the amelioration of humanity. She is a failure from the utilitarian standpoint.

To this our obvious reply is that Christ did not found a mere philanthropical society for curing public and social ills- although, actually, the Catholic Church has done more for humanity than all the philanthropists put together. Christianity does not exist to establish man in security and prosperity on earth. Its purpose is to put men in possession, not of the things of this world, but of the things of heaven. The success or the failure of the Catholic Church, if we may use such terms, is in proportion to the number of souls she sanctifies and saves. Her critics are scarcely is a position to judge of this. Neither are they interested in the matter.

THE ACCEPTANCE OF PAIN

Again, we are charged, and very insistently today, with the doctrine of the cross. We accept suffering. We weep and whine beneath the cross of Christ. We encourage the retention of pain in opposition to modern eugenics. We even bar the way to human happiness by our refusal of divorce, birth control, euthanasia, and the elimination of the unfit, by our refusal to recognise a progressive morality. We chain men to doctrines which involve discomfort, suffering, and inconvenience. We have failed humanity. We stand in the way of its happiness.

It is the old challenge, “Save thyself: if thou be the Son of God, come down from the cross” (Matt., 27–40). The materialists and pagans of the twentieth century challenge us to renounce the cross of Christ.

We can only reply: The cross is the very pivot on which Christian life and morality turn. We are fully aware that its teaching is intolerable to a pleasure-seeking age. We are also aware of the immense folly of this revolt against all that hurts and pains, against self-restraint, against all that hinders self-indulgence and worldly enjoyment. Human happiness comes, not from pandering to our natural desires, but from supernaturalising our fallen nature. We would remind those pagan materialists, who sneer at Christianity as a myth encumbering man’s happiness, that the “myth” has actually produced for millions of all ages the happiness which they, the pagan materialists, have yet to find and which, in their way, according to all the past experience of men, they never will find. Pain and suffering are conquered by sharing the cross with Christ. The very capacity of the Catholic Church to embrace them is her strength. Like Christ, she conquers by the cross, by transforming this world of pain into a crucible of God’s love wherein men are tested for eternal life. For those who shirk the test the world becomes a cauldron. It is they who are the failures.

LUST IN MORAL MASQUERADE

As for “progressive morality,” it is merely progressive lust- an attempt to overthrow the fixed divine code of moral law, a code that the Church will never suit to the liking of a soft generation.

The other ground on which the world bases its charge of failure is that our dogmas are antiquated. We cling to the obsolete notion of a fallen world, of men having been created instead of evolved, of original sin, of God made Man, of a repellent doctrine of Redemption. We even have the audacity to insult the modern mind with the doctrine of eternal hell. The Catholic Church has failed to tune up to the level of modern thought, to unshackle herself of medieval superstitions. She is an intellectual failure.

ANGELS AND APES

I wonder if this boasted “modern mind” is aware of the insincerity of such a charge, of the manner in which our doctrines are twisted about before being proclaimed “unacceptable to reason,” and of their inconvenience being the real grievance. These dogmas, from the Fall to the Redemption, all rest on the fact of sin, and sin is an inconvenient notion.

It is far more comfortable to be assured by the enlightened ones of today that sin, so-called, can be explained by evolution, that it is merely the relics of man’s monkey nature, merely the monkey coming out. Men, who once thought themselves little less than the angels, should now rise to the dignity of being little more than the apes.

It is not the modern mind but the modern will which is rejecting the inconvenient facts of Revelation. It is sheer, despicable pretence to term “unacceptable to reason” dogmas which are accepted by some of the greatest intellects in the world-I mean by Catholic scholars, theologians, and scientists. The failure is not with those who do accept them, but with those who do not-those who refuse the facts revealed by God.

THESIS

I have endeavoured, then, briefly to repudiate the charge of failure imputed by the enemies of the Catholic Church. Those who level it so persistently and loudly today are merely advertising the fact that the Church is not a failure. They would not pay attention to a failure.

To come now to my central thesis. The world (I use the word in St. John’s sense-those who love the darkness rather than the light), the world ever expects Christianity to come to an end, that the Catholic Church will pass like all else.

“I feel it necessary to emphasize,” said Sir Arthur Keith recently, voicing the world’s opinion, “that no Church or creed can possibly be permanent.”

We might venture to remind Sir Arthur Keith that the test of time has already been applied to the Catholic Church. Could he say the same of his own dogmas? The Catholic Church is a 2000-year-old fact.

The missing link is still missing. The world looks upon the Catholic Church as a mere human organisation. In denying the divinity of Christ it denies His power to institute an imperishable Church, a Church which shall endure by divine sanction, divine will, and divine life.

DIVINE, NOT HUMAN

Now, it is in virtue of His divinity that the Church of Christ is a divine organism and not a mere human organisation. It is in virtue of being a divine organism that the Church is imperishable. It lives and endures by divine life, by the Divine Presence within the promised presence of its Founder.

“All power is given to Me in heaven and in earth,” said Christ to His Church, as He sent it forth. “Behold I am with you all days, even unto the consummation of the world” (Matt., 28:18).

It is clearly manifest in that promise that Christ, Who is God, will be with His Church for ever. His aid will be efficacious; all power belongs to Him. His promise is absolute, not conditional. He will be with them “all days” (without interruption; not only with the Apostles themselves, but with their successors constituting with them one moral person), “unto the consummation of the world.” The original Greek meant “until the completion of the age.” The word “completion” in conjunction with “age” is very telling-in fact, final, as far as Christ’s meaning is concerned; for the same two words in conjunction are used by Christ on two other occasions to signify the last judgment. It is clear, then, that Christ’s promise covers the Messianic period consummated by the last judgment at the end of the world. And what Christ promises He wills.

Again, the dictum, “He that heareth you heareth Me,” involves the perpetual, active exercise of Christ’s legateship through His Church. If the Church were to cease, His mission would fail, because the appointed channel through which He acts would be no more. Or, again, if the Church were to end, how could the Paraclete remain with it “forever,” as Christ Himself declared? Neither, unless He made His Church indestructible, could Christ have made that very categorical statement, “The gates of hell shall not prevail against it.”

ENDURING EVER

The Church, then, is imperishable. In what sense?

“We declare that the Church of Christ,” says the Vatican Council, “as regards both its existence and constitution, is a lasting and indefectible society, and that afterit no economy of salvation is to be looked for, either fuller or more perfect.”

This explicit definition involves that the Church will persist to the end of time and that it can never undergo any constitutional change which will make it, as an organism, other than what Christ made it originally. Its constitution includes the apostolic Hierarchy and the system of worship and sacraments. These can never change. And since no other economy of salvation will take its place, it follows that its teaching, which is part of that economy, can never change.

VITAL GROWTH

But an unchanging Church does not mean a stagnant Church, as suggested by her critics. Her essential sameness does not deprive her of vital evolution. She is a living organism. She grows. She grows, for instance, in the understanding of herself and those stupendous, unchanging truths committed to her care. She grows theologically.

Again, owing to her indefectible constitution, she never changes those marks by which she perpetually identifies herself, the four-fold glory with which Christ marked her at the beginning. As the centuries roll by, her amazing unity becomes more manifest. By her innate holiness she grows more beautiful with age. Her obvious and undisputed catholicity put to shame the spurious claims of others to that mark. She alone can show you her Apostolical Line, her pedigree, reaching back for two thousand years to Christ and His Apostles. She alone received the commission of Christ: “As the Father hath sent Me, so also do I send you.”

AGE-LONG

Will you forgive a slight digression here, of rather a personal nature? It is an impression of the unbroken Apostolical Line that I once experienced.

I am a convert to the Catholic Church. Many years ago now, while I was still a Protestant, a member of the Established Church of England, I went out to Rome on a holiday. During my stay there I went one Sunday morning to St. Peter’s. It happened to be the occasion of a canonisation. I found a vast multitude inside. Solemn Mass was being sung at the choir altar. I remember how I pressed my way up through the crowd, until I was within reasonable distance of the altar.

And then I stood there watching the great drama of the Mass -the Bishops, the priests, the ceremonies, the ease with which everything went, the matter-of-fact manner which comes from long custom and usage. There was an atmosphere of the centuries, subtle, yet insistent.

UNBROKEN LINE

As I watched, there came upon me the sense that there was something about it all that the Church of England lacked.

This great act was connected with something. age-long, something continuous, some thing that went right back. . . . And I did not know what that something was.

Today, as a Catholic priest, I do know what that something was. It was the Apostolical Line. And today, as a Catholic priest, I can look down that great, long line, and at its end I can see Christ and His Apostles standing. And I can see a great, long chain of hands being laid on heads, hands-on-heads, hands-on-heads going right back.

And I know that to every single Bishop and priest in that great, long line -and even to myself, as a Catholic priest- Christ has said: “As the Father hath sent Me, so also do I send you.”

The Apostolical Line, reaching back to the beginning, will reach forward, too, until the very end.

That mark will persist with the others.

DIVINELY SELF-CONSCIOUS

For all time the Catholic Church will show the imperishable marks of Christ.

There is something besides the marks upon herself. There is within her an imperishable personality-the very secret of her endurance.

I have already said that she lives and endures by divine life, by the Divine Presence within.

This secret, invisible presence of Christ within His Mystical Body may be actually experienced by the member of His

Body. The very first spiritual experience of converts to the Church is that of entering into a new atmosphere, a supernatural atmosphere. It is a completely new experience. And it is more than just sensing an atmosphere.

It is entering into an all-pervading consciousness, the consciousness of an indwelling Divine Presence permeating the Catholic Church through and through. We Catholics are conscious of God, as those outside can never be. We feel the great, throbbing heartbeats of God. His very life pulsing through every vein of His Mystical Body.

The Catholic Church, by virtue of this divine life within, is divinely, supernaturally self-conscious. Being one with an Eternal Presence, her self-consciousness is abiding and continuous. It is communicated to all her members. It matters not whether we live in the first century, A.D., or the twentieth, or the hundredth; we are all sharers of this self-consciousness.

The Catholic Church is supernaturally self-conscious in the same sort of way in which we are naturally self-conscious as human beings.

For instance, when you reflect, you become conscious of things that happened to yourself when you were young. You are aware that you are the same person as the person who experienced those things. You are conscious of yourself as being one and the same person all through life. You find in yourself an “abiding identity of personality.”

In the same way the Catholic Church is conscious of herself as being the same moral person all through. She has an “abiding identity of personality.” She is conscious of the things that happened to her when she was young. We, as her members, share her consciousness of those things.

OUR PRESENCE IN THE GOSPEL EVENTS

And, therefore, to us, the things we read of in the Gospels are not merely historical facts, not merely dogmas of the faith that we assent to. We are vividly conscious of the truth of these things, as sharing them with the Apostles themselves in the self-conscious life of the Church.

In this sense we experience what they experienced. With them we can cry: “I am there with Christ in Galilee. I witness what He says and does. I see Him build His Church on Peter. I am with Him in the Upper Room; in the garden of His agony. I stand beneath the cross; I see the empty tomb; I see Him risen from the dead. To me all glorified He comes; to me He shows the pierced hands and feet; to Him I cry “My Lord, my God!”“

That is the assurance given to members of His Mystical Body. It is the Church’s abiding identity of personality that gives this spiritual experience to Catholics for all time. The things of Revelation are ever-present realities. And though one thousand centuries pass, yet, at the end of them, in that far-away future, every Catholic, as sharing in her self-consciousness, will be a witness to the truth of what the Church proclaims, as you and I are witnesses today.

ONE WITH CHRIST

This is one of our glorious privileges.

And it is in virtue of being members of the Mystical Body of Christ, Who is God eternal, that we constitute with Him, in a mystical sense, an imperishable personality in an imperishable body -His Church.

It is thus, by union with the person of Christ, that His Mystical Body endures.

The only further point required in proof of my thesis-the imperishability of the Church-is the reason for it. This is so obvious that it may be stated in the fewest words:

As long as there are souls to be saved, so long will there remain in this world the means which God has provided and made necessary for their salvation. Since there will be souls to be saved until the end, it follows that the Church, which is the means of salvation, will endure to the end.

I have said enough now to show you that the Catholic Church is not only unfailing and unending, and unchanging yet living, but that she also bears upon herself the marks. of Christ proclaiming her forever as His own, and endures by His divine life within.

It remains for me to demonstrate that, historically, she is unconquerable.

RELENTLESS FOES

We may divide her would-be conquerors into two classes-first, the innovators, and, second, our old foes, the world, the flesh and the devil. The innovators, who include most of the heretics, are those who fondly seek for something new to supersede the Catholic Church. The world, the flesh and the devil need no introduction.

Concerning the innovators, they, from the beginning, have endeavoured to supplant God’s scheme with a better scheme of their own. Prominent amongst them in the early days were the Gnostics, the Montanists, the Manicheans, and the Donatists, all of whom sought something purer and more spiritual than the Church for whom Christ sacrificed Himself that she might be sanctified in truth, all of them ignoring the parable of the tares and the wheat, all of them preaching and awaiting a new Pentecost upon themselves or their future followers.

TOO GOOD FOR THE CHURCH

For such as these the Church of God is never good enough.

The same spirit of innovation resided with the Protestant Reformation. Protestantism is supposedly an attempt to improve upon the Catholic religion. Its representatives, like their predecessors of the early days, have all claimed for themselves the special enlightenment and guidance of the Holy Ghost. Their refusal to submit to authority and to trust their spiritual life to a divinely-guided body has resulted in at least three hundred splits; in contradictory and warring sects. This hopeless jumble of contradictions is a sufficient refutation of their own claims. The Holy Ghost cannot be the author of contradictions.

The final consequence of all this individualism run mad is the production of monstrosities like Christian Science and Theosophy; also of dangerous irresponsibles, such as Dr. Marie Stopes, who claims a special revelation for propagating birth-control. Ultimately all Illuminism and Individualism spells megalomania. We may instance the hysterical scenes witnessed at Protestant revivalist meetings.

THEY FALL, NOT WE

The innovating heretics, for twenty centuries now, have been watching for the Catholic Church to crash into ruins. One by one they have endeavoured to shatter her claim to be forever the unique Spirit-bearing Body of Christ. One by one they have been disappointed. Long ago their fallacies were exposed. Saint Justin, Saint Irenaeus, and Saint Augustine saw to that. To one Church alone, built on a Rock, Christ promised the presence of His Holy Spirit-”that He may abide with you forever.”

One by one the innovating sects have perished-and will perish. For their own spirit, and not the Spirit of God, is with them. And over their strewn corpses the Church of God marches on.

THE TERRIBLE THREE

The other would-be conquerors of the Catholic Church are, as I have already said, the world, the flesh, and the devil. All down the ages of Christendom these three have worked together to cast Christ and His Church from the face of the earth. So intense is their hatred of the Light, so fierce, so ceaseless, so relentless their persecution of the kingdom of God, that, if that kingdom were but a human institution, it would have perished centuries ago.

From the beginning the world, knowing well that the foundation must first be shattered, has struck at the Rock on which that kingdom was built, on which it stands today.

But every blow has been parried from above. Herod the king casts Peter into prison, bound in chains. Down comes the angel of God, blazing white, from the Eternal Presence, breaks the chains, flings open the gate. Peter is free, Herod struck dead.

The Church of God marches on.

The kingdom grows, reaches the heart of the pagan Roman Empire, challenging the proud Caesars, challenging their gods! Its members are flung to wild beasts or burnt alive. They die smiling, upheld by some strange power, the name of a Galilean peasant on their lips. Their Popes are martyred one by one. But still the kingdom grows. The lusts and obscenities of paganism would strangle her in foul embrace, yet quail before the radiant purity of Christ’s Bride, slink from God’s beauty shining in her eyes. A Caesar is converted. The Roman Empire dies-and emerges in the Catholic Church of Christ. The Caesar yields his throne to Peter. “Thou hast conquered, Galilean!”

The Church of God marches on.

Down from the North sweep the armies of the Huns, led by the mighty Attila-resistless, unconquered, to the gates of Rome. They surge about the Rock. Attila the mighty is met by the mightier Leo. The torrent recedes. Attila lies dead.

The Church of God marches on.

From the South comes the cry of Mohammed-the proud boast of the sword. On the Rock the sword is snapped.

BLIND AND CLUMSY

And so we watch the efforts of the world all down the centuries, a world blinded by its own antagonism, unable even to bend the Catholic Church to its will, let alone destroy it, too blind to learn the lesson of Canossa; for there, at least, in the person of Henry IV., humiliated and in tears, it kissed the feet of Peter-Canossa, where Calvary was avenged.

We watch the world’s clumsy endeavours to capture the Church of God for its own ends. We watch the Church eluding it, as spirit eludes matter, smiling at such attempts. See Napoleon strutting before Pius VII, a crowned emperor alternately raging at and flattering a Pope. “Lend the spiritual power of your Church to the power of my empire.” The Pope looks at him and replies, “You comedian.”

Or witness the revolutionaries of 1870 destroying the temporal power of the Church to strike down her spiritual power-Garibaldi, Crispi, Gambetta, Cadorna. The Church picks up the gauntlet and flings back in their faces the dogma of Papal infallibility!

She marches on unconquered and unconquerable-unconquered. by the world, unconquered by the flesh and the devil.

GRIM ENEMIES

For the devil not merely engineers the world and its hatred; he also undermines by means of human passions. Time and again in the past the lusts of men have warred against the Bride of Christ, from without and even from within.

But for the lusts of Luther and Henry VIII. and their followers it is questionable whether the tragedy of the Reformation would ever have come about. Their lusts were certainly its occasion. The first Protestants were bad Catholics-apostate traitors to the sanctity of the Mother who bore them.

There have been times when the flesh has almost seemed to prevail. See Gregory VII. fighting the immorality that threatened to swamp the Bark of Peter. See him dying, an outcast from his ownRome, and crying: “I have loved justice and hated iniquity; therefore I die in exile.”

Satan has ever scourged the Church with the lusts of the flesh, and he ever will-relying on the frailty of our human nature. But does he think thereby to soil the virgin purity of the Bride of Christ? From the beginning until the end she remains intact and inviolable, consecrated to His Father by the Son of God.

So much for the world and the flesh.

Behind them, and employing them all down the ages, stand the powers of darkness, malignant in their irrevocable hatred of the Catholic Church. Our warfare, St. Paul declares, is not so much against “flesh and blood” as against “principalities and powers, against the rulers of the world of this darkness.”

It would seem in these latter days that Satan and his evil angels are preparing a further scheme, in spite of all their failures in the past. The steady growth of spiritism, of occultism, of freemasonry; and, above all, of Godless humanitarianism, all point to an increased activity on the part of the powers of evil.

A MOCK CHURCH

Why do the adherents of these movements so continually stress two words. Those words are Light and Man (with a big M). The word Light means the Light of Nature, as opposed to the Light of Christ; Reason as opposed to Revelation. The word Man means Humanity, as opposed to God. Do these movements stand for something that is forming against the Church of God?

We speak of the Church as the Mystical Body of Christ, a framework, a supernatural organism living by the life of Christ. Is it beyond the genius of Satan to build to himself a parallel kind of framework, an antithesis to the Mystical Body of Christ? There is a carefully planned framework to be found in freemasonry-a supreme pontiff, a hierarchy, a temple, ceremonial worship, degrees of initiation, festivals, a creed. This planned framework is an antithesis to God’s plan for His Church. It is a deliberate plan of worship. It is naturalism as opposed to supernaturalism.

FREEMASONRY

Comte, the founder of humanitarianism, some ninety years ago put forward such a scheme himself. His idea, propagated by the headers of rationalism, has now infiltrated into the minds of millions-the idea of a system in which humanity is to occupy the place that God occupies in the Catholic Church. In freemasonry we find the framework ready for its realisation. Remember, freemasonry is our deadly enemy. It is freemasonry in Mexico, in France, and, I believe, in Russia, too.

We can no longer dismiss the humanitarian scheme as a chimera. It is something which is beginning to actualise in our very midst. Modern science is being prostituted in its service. Modern thought, as expressed in almost all de-Christianising movements of the day, is everywhere converging towards that one idea-humanity as the supreme object of attention and devotion: Man alone matters, The great god Man is growing beneath our eyes.

One instinctively recalls St. Paul’s reference to the coming “Man of sin . . . who opposeth and is lifted up above all that is called God . . . showing himself as if he were God.”

Satan is no fool. “You shall be as gods” proved highly seductive in the Garden of Eden. It may prove equally seductive again. The Kingdom of Man, so widely urged today as the only means of achieving human happiness on earth, is the most alluring alternative to the Kingdom of God. I am not prophesying. I am suggesting. And I speak as “one less wise.”

If the Kingdom of Man is achieved, it will fail. It will procure neither man’s happiness nor the downfall of the Kingdom of God.

Will the world never perceive that there is something in the Catholic Church which it can never conquer, that her existence today is a fact for which no human or natural causes can account, that every earthly kingdom has crashed beneath what she has withstood, that she survives what only a divine kingdom could survive, that her continued presence in the world is an abiding miracle of God, and that the Providence which keeps her will keep her to the end?

But if the future does hold in store some such satanic empire of neo-paganism for the ousting of the Catholic Church, then we may, indeed, expect a persecution comparable with that of pagan Rome. Satan has succeeded so far in turning nations against the Church. He will not rest until he turns the world against us. If he does that he will fail in his battle with the Church.

Let world-wide martyrdom come! Then once more we shall die smiling, with the name of a Galilean peasant on our lips, and the Church of God will march on until the day dawns and the shadows of earth flee away.

Nihil obstat:

J. DONOVAN

Censor Deputatus.

Imprimatur.

@ D. MANNIX,

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis

********

The Church With The Open Door

BY H. A. JOHNSTON, S.J

INDEX

I. CONVERTS FROM THE NOBILITY

THE general title of this series of articles does not refer to the fact that Catholic churches are open and in use every day of the week. It is not suggested by the crowds that are drawn to St. Francis” church in Melbourne, to St. Patrick’s, Church Hill, in Sydney, or the new church of the Blessed Sacrament Fathers in the same city. It is true that a Catholic church is not, any more than the Catholic religion, for use on Sundays only. The Sacrifice of the Mass is offered daily to Almighty God, and Our Lord is ever present in the Blessed Sacrament, making of the church a true House of God and house of prayer. But when I choose as title The Church with the Open Door, I am thinking rather of the number of people of every kind who, in search of true religion andbent on doing God’s will, are constantly finding their way into a City whose gates are always open to receive them. The Catholic Church makes strict demands on those who would enter her fold, but the way is always open for those who are led thither by the grace of God.

It would encourage those who are in search of the truth if they realised how many, from all walks of life and from every form of religion as well as from no religion, have found peace and happiness in the Catholic Church. It would also bring satisfaction to Catholics, and perhaps deeper appreciation of their religion, to know how large the number of converts is, how steady the stream, and how many people of real eminence it contains. Not that we wish to make little of those whose names are not known to the world at large, for their souls are just as precious to God; but the names of well-known persons have naturally a special interest for us. As I must start somewhere I propose to start with the nobility. In the words of Gilbert (and music of Sullivan), No Englishman unmoved that statement hears, Because, with all our faults, we love our House of Peers. Apart from other considerations, peers and their relatives can have, I suppose, less worldly inducement to enter the Catholic Church than any other class of person, and therefore their example is all the more striking.

During the late war those of us who were older often found our thoughts going back to the previous war, and to the people who played a prominent part in it. The Prime Minister of England at the outbreak of the First World War was the Liberal leader, Herbert Henry Asquith, later to become Lord Oxford and Asquith. The holder of that title now is a Catholic, the second Earl of Oxford and Asquith. The then Prime Minister’s eldest son, Raymond Asquith, became a Catholic early in the war, and was killed in France in 1916. Maurice Baring, himself a distinguished convert to the Catholic faith, wrote in a letter to a friend at the time:

“I was certain he would be killed. I dined with him the night before he went back to his regiment after a spell at GHQ. I felt I would never see him again. I think he deserved his glorious fate, and deserved it doubly or trebly from not being a soldier, and by having so much to give; one can’t say more . . . He was the wittiest man I have ever known; his wit was like a shining icicle, and it was the wit that receives as well as the wit that gives.”

Raymond Asquith already had two daughters, and an infant son was born to him the year he died. This boy, who succeeded to his grandfather’s title in 1926, was brought up a Catholic. His mother became a Catholic eight years after her husband’s death. Four years later the elder daughter, Lady Helen Asquith, entered the Church, and she was followed two years later by her younger sister, who became Lady Perdita Hylton, wife of 4th Baron Hylton. Thus the whole of Raymond Asquith’s family has now been united in the faith. It is all the more remarkable because Herbert Henry Asquith was not at all inclined towards Catholicism. Indeed one of his private secretaries has written of him that “he was by temperament and upbringing strongly Protestant in feeling, retaining until the close of his life what many would regard as an oldfashioned antipathy to the Roman Catholic Church.”

But there are many cases in which the relatives or descendants of strong Protestants have turned to the old faith. Lord Kitchener of Khartoum, for example, who was one of the leading figures in the early part of World War I, until he went down in the “Hampshire” in the North Sea, would not have been considered particularly well-disposed towards Catholicism. But the only daughter of the second Earl (brother of the first), Lady Nora Kitchener, became a Catholic.

In the political battles in England in the years before the first war a prominent name was that of the eminent lawyer, F. E. Smith, or “Galloper” Smith, as he was nicknamed in the days when he was a supporter of Sir Edward Carson’s threatened rebellion. It was a time when the House of Commons echoed with great rhetoric, even though the speeches were often only part of a political game. Those were the days of Lloyd George’s famous revolutionary Budget, which brought about two General Elections in England in one year (1910), and of the Parliament Bill, which curtailed the power of the House of Lords, and of the Welsh Church Disestablishment Bill. It was a phrase of F. E. Smith in the course of the debates on this last measure that drew from G. K. Chesterton one of the most biting satirical poems ever written. Smith had spoken of “a bill which has shocked the conscience of every Christian community in Europe.” The farcical nature of this solemn pronouncement, especially coming from “F.E.,” roused Chesterton, and he wrote:

Are they clinging to their crosses, Where the Breton boat-fleet tosses, Are they, Smith?

Do they, fasting, tramping, bleeding, Wait the news from this our city? Groaning “That’s the Second Reading!.”

Hissing, “There is still Committee!” If the voice of Cecil falters,

If McKenna’s point has pith,

Do they tremble for their altars?

Do they Smith?”

Then there is reference to Russian peasants:

“In the mountain hamlets clothing Peaks beyond Caucasian pales,

Where Establishment means nothing And they never heard of Wales,

Do they read it all in Hansard

With a crib to read it with—“Welsh Tithes: Dr. Clifford Answered”? Really, Smith?

Then, after a verse alluding to the Turkish massacres of Christians encouraged under an earlier Conservative leader, Chesterton concludes:

It would greatly, I must own, Soothe me, Smith,

If you left this theme alone,

Holy Smith!

For your legal cause or civil You fight well and get your fee; For your God or dream or devil You will answer, not to me.

Talk about the pews and steeples And the cash that goes therewith! But the souls of Christian people- Chuck it, Smith!

The saeva indignatio of Chesterton was not directed against Smith personally, for Chesterton never had a personal enemy, but against the sham and humbug of the politicians. In one and the same year, 1922, Chesterton became a Catholic, and Smith became Earl of Birkenhead. Towards the end of 1939 an autobiography appeared, entitled “Life’s a Circus,” which received considerable notice in the London press. Its author was Lady Eleanor Smith, daughter of the first Earl of Birkenhead, and a convert. She is only one of many such. For example, two daughters of another Earl of recent creation (the Earl of Inchcape) became Catholics not many years ago.

II. MORE CONVERTS IN HIGH PLACES

In the poem of Chesterton that was quoted, occurs the name of Lord Hugh Cecil, who was one of the protagonists in the fight over Welsh Disestablishment. It was he who drew from Lloyd George the famous taunt about defending the Welsh Church with “hands dropping with the fat of sacrilege” -an allusion, of course, to the foundation of the fortunes of the Cecils in the plunder of Reformation times in England. This century has seen two of the Cecils come back to the Catholic Church, Algernon Cecil, son of Lord Eustace Cecil, in 1915, and his sister, Blanche Cecil, in 1921. They were nephew and niece of Lord Salisbury, a name famous in English political circles.

Another name that comes to mind in connection with the beginning of the first World War is that of Viscount Morley, the biographer of Gladstone. He was one of two ministers who resigned from the Liberal cabinet at the outbreak of war. He had no sympathy with Catholicism, or indeed with Christianity. But both his step-daughter and a cousin, Miss Elizabeth Morley, became Catholics and nuns.

There is one name among the English nobility that is familiar to nearly everyone, and especially to those interested in what used to be called “the noble art”—that of the Marquis of Queensberry. This family has given many of its members to the Catholic Church. Sybil, Marchioness of Queensberry, was received into the Church in 1922. It is not becoming to allude to a lady’s age, but she must have been well-advanced in years, seeing she became a Catholic fifty-six years after her marriage to the eighth Marquis. Her only daughter, Lady Fox-Pitt, became a Catholic three years after her mother. Her son, the ninth Marquis, had entered the Church in 1908, and his brother, Lord Alfred Douglas, in 1911. The seventh Marchioness of Queensberry was also a convert to the Catholic faith, as was also her daughter, Lady Gertrude Stock, and a son who was known for many years as Canon Lord Archibald Douglas, who died only recently at the advanced age of 88.

Another name which everyone knows is that of Lord Nelson. The present holder of that title is a Catholic. The fifth Earl, who died in 1951 at the age of ninety, became a Catholic in 1888, at the age of twenty-eight, as did also his mother and two of his brothers at different dates. I will deal with converts from the Services in due course, but I may mention here the name of another famous admiral, Lord Walter Kerr, whose career links up widely-separated periods of history. As a very young man he served in the Baltic during the Crimean War, he took part in the relief of Lucknow during the Indian Mutiny, he became First Sea Lord in 1899, and lived on into the first World War. When he retired from the Service in 1904 the King notified his promotion as Admiralof the Fleet, “in recognition of the great value to the Navy and to the nation of his fifty years of naval service.” He became a Catholic as a midshipman, which in those days and in those circumstances must have been no easy thing to do. He was a son of the Marquis of Lothian, and he married a daughter of Earl Cooper; she too became a Catholic and well known as Lady Amabel Kerr for her Catholic writings.

The mother of Lord Walter Kerr, the seventh Marchioness of Lothian, was a very famous lady. She was a daughter of Earl Talbot, and married Lord Lothian when she was twentythree, taking to her new home her father’s advice, “Make God the idol of your heart.” After ten years of ideal happiness she was left a widow with seven children, and devoted herself to them and to the service of God. Her first contact with Catholicism had been when, at the age of fifteen, she had told a young Irish footman to leave her breakfast ready and go off to Mass, only to learn that he had received notice because he refused to eat meat on Friday. This puzzled her, because she had always been taught that conscience must be obeyed first always. Ten years after her husband’s death study and prayer led her to the true faith. To her great joy, in succeeding years her daughters and three of her sons followed her, as well as her sister-in-law with her ten children and her brother-in-law, Rev. Lord Henry Kerr, an Anglican clergyman, with his family. Two of his sons became Jesuits and a daughter a Sacred Heart nun. Though one member of the Lothian family unfortunately abandoned the Church, the present (twelfth) Marquess, born in 1922, is an excellent Catholic.

In the same year as the Marchioness of Lothian, just mentioned, the Duchess of Argyle became a Catholic, and a few years later a great friend of the Marchioness of Lothian, the Duchess of Buccleugh, who was for five years Mistress of the Robes to Queen Victoria. The Duchess had been preceded into the Church by her brother, Rev. Lord Charles Thynne, who had been Canon of Canterbury, and his wife, who was the daughter of an Anglican bishop. After his wife’s death Lord Charles Thynne, who was a son of the Marquis of Bath, became a priest. One of his daughters also became a Catholic and married the Earl of Kenmare. The mother of the present Earl of Kenmare was also a convert to the faith; she was a daughter of Lord Revelstoke and sister of another distinguished convert, Maurice Baring.

It may be of interest to know how the converts of an older generation in England were impressed by what they found when they came in contact with the faith. I quote a passage from the Memorials of Sergeant Bellasis, a distinguished legal man who was received into the Church in the middle of the last century. “I was kindly received by the Catholics to whom I had been introduced; but more than this, I was highly edified by the habits of the Catholic households. I was particularly struck with the unobtrusive and natural manner in which religion was mixed up with the ordinary affairs and even amusements of life. Whilst we were staying at Everingham, the hounds were on the lawn, and the horses of the guests parading in front, and groups of gentry preparing to start, when I went into the chapel; there was no one there but Mr. William Maxwell (afterwards Lord Herries), and he was on his knees making his morning meditation in a scarlet coat and top boots. This looked to me, at first, like an incongruity. I soon saw, however, that it was not so . . . On another occasion, while we were staying at Holme, I was up early on a Sunday morning, and had gone into the tribune of the chapel, which was a gallery opening from the staircase, and where I was not visible to any one in the chapel below; at first there was no one, but after some time the sacristy door opened and the young lady of the house entered, who during the previous evening had been foremost in making merriment among a young party. She was not conscious of my presence, and proceeded to prepare the altar for Mass, doing this with such reverence and devotion that I could hardly believe her to be the same person who the night before had been acting charades and playing forfeits with such a merry countenance. Everything now was done with deliberation; she never passed in front of the altar without kneeling, and everything was touched and handled so gently and devotionally that she might have been serving in the presence of some great monarch; she finally knelt, and prayed, and retired. I had not yet learned of the effect produced upon Catholics by the consciousness of the presence of the Blessed Sacrament. This sight was most impressive to me.

III. STILL AMONG THE ARISTOCRACY

The Catholic Church does not “collect” peers and peeresses. Their souls have the same value as other people’s, no more and no less. But this class of convert has a special importance from the fact that they could have no conceivable worldly motive for becoming Catholics. They would not gain in popularity with their friends; they would not increase their influence in government circles; they would not improve their position at Court or in Society. They embrace what is with their fellow-countrymen on the whole an unpopular religion. They abandon a state of comparative freedom and submit themselves to strict discipline in religious matters. Needless to say, a peer enters the Catholic Church on exactly the same footing and on the same terms as anyone else. He must be convinced of the truth of the Catholic faith; he must accept the Church as having authority from God to teach and guide in matters of faith and morals; and he must obey the laws of the Church, and confess his sins, like any other man.

I think that it can be fairly said that it is—or at least was -a much more difficult thing for a member of a noble house in Ireland to become a Catholic, because Protestantism there was in many ways more extreme than on the other side of the Irish Sea, and there was the barrier between what used to be the dominant class and the subject race. Yet it is remarkable how many Irish titles are found among the lists of converts to the Catholic faith. Without trying to be exhaustive (or running the risk of exhausting the reader) I will mention the following well-known names: Lord Ashbourne (son of a Lord Chancellor of Ireland) and his wife (a member of an eminent French Protestant family); a son of the Earl of Lucan, the Hon. Albert Edward Bingham (godson of King Edward VII; hence his Christian names); the Countess of Clare (wife of the last Earl); Lord Dunrave, a name famous in the last generation, and. his brother-inlaw, Lord Emly, who was Postmaster-General under Gladstone; Viscountess Gormanston, wife of a former Governor of Tasmania; Lady Ellen Lambart, eldest daughter of the Earl of Cavan, and her sister, Lady Maud Birbeck, who entered the Church fourteen years earlier; both were still alive during the last war; the Marchioness of Londonderry and her sister-in-law, the Countess of Portarlington; Lady Margaret Domvile, daughter of an Earl of Howth; the last Earl of Roscommon; the Marchioness of Waterford. The Countess of Cork and Orrery is a Catholic, as are her two sisters (one a nun), for her father, the Earl of Albermarle, an Aide-de-camp to Queen Victoria, was a convert.

The letters and diaries of Queen Victoria are an amusing revelation of her old-fashioned fear and dislike of Catholicism. When ritualism was being introduced in certain Anglican circles she was strong in her opposition, going so far as to write personal letters to some of the clergymen concerned, forbidding the practices of which she disapproved. (After all, was she not Head of the Church, and had she not sworn to uphold the Protestant religion as by law established?) In her reign the religious state, so decisively rejected at the time of the Reformation, made its appearance for the first time among Anglicans. The first woman to become an Anglican nun died as late as 1912. It so happened that one of the early Anglican convents was established at Clewer, within sight of Windsor Castle, and the Mother Superior was one who had formerly occupied a position at Court. The Queen was torn between a desire to visit her former friend and dislike of appearing to give any countenance to the regrettable tendencies of High Church Anglicanism. She solved the problem by making her visit strictly incognito, and giving orders that the Sisters were not to make any acknowledgement of the Queen’s presence. Imagine her indignation when, as she passed down a corridor with the Superior, every Sister she met stepped aside and bowed low. When she reached the Superior’s rooms, where she was to have tea, she demanded an explanation of this disregard of her instructions. The explanation was easy; the Sisters had been paying the customary mark of respect to their Superior; it was not meant for the Queen at all!

Yet in spite of the well-known views of Her Majesty, the number of converts among the nobility during her reign, even among those closely associated with her, is remarkable. I have already mentioned her A.D.C., the Earl of Albermarle, and the Duchess of Buccleugh, Who was for five years Mistress of the Robes to the Queen. Another interesting example was Lady Victoria Kirwan, daughter of the Marquis of Hastings, a namesake of the Queen and godchild of the Queen’s mother, the Duchess of Kent. Another was one of her maids of honour, a grand-daughter of the Earl of Elgin. Then there was the famous case of the Queens representative, the Marquis of Ripon, Viceroy of India and Grandmaster of the English Freemasons, who became a fervent Catholic. At the climax of the reign; from thecelebration of the Golden and Diamond Jubilees of the Queen’s accession (1887, 1897) to her death in 1901, a time when her popularity was at its highest, there was a regular stream of converts to the Catholic Church from noble houses. Only a few names can be given: the Earl and Countess of Ashburnham (1888); Lady Strickland, wife of Baron Strickland, who, as Sir Gerald Strickland, was successively Governor of Tasmania, West Australia, and New South Wales between the years 1904 and 1917; Lady Strickland’s mother, Countess de la Warr, became a Catholic sixteen years after her daughter (1889); Count de Salis (1892); the Earl of Mexborough (1894); the present Earl, a Catholic, is his grandson; the Countess of Cotenham and her daughter, Lady Mary Pepys (1895); Viscount Encombe (1897); the Dowager Lady Auckland (1897; she is still alive, and her son, the late Lord Auckland, followed his mother into the Church in 1913); the Vicomtesse Sybil de la Bedoyère, a daughter of one of the leading Anglican bishops of the time, Dr. Thorold of Winchester (1898); and there were other converts in that family. Her son, Count Michael da Ia Bedoyère, is editor of the London Catholic Times.

The stream has by no means dried up in more recent times. Some of those already mentioned in the first two articles of this series entered the Church in our day. Thus the dates of the conversion of the mother of the Earl of Oxford and Asquith and his two sisters were 1924, 1928, and 1930 respectively. A name worth adding is that of Countess Brassey, daughter of the Marquess of Abergavenny. Her brother, Sir William Beauchamp Nevill, was received into the Church in Melbourne in 1886, while on the personal staff of the then Governor of Victoria. He lived on into the recent war. Countess Brassey, his sister, became a Catholic exactly fifty years after her brother, in 1936. She died a year ago at an advanced age. The Earl of Craven, when till Viscount Uffington, became a Catholic with his mother in 1930. The same year saw the conversion of Viscountess Chilston, whose husband was British Ambassador at Moscow from 1933 till 1938. The, Earl of Iddesleigh, who is a grandson, through his mother, of the celebrated Dean Farrar, became a Catholic in 1927, at the age of 26. It was the same year that the Duke of Marlborough entered the Church. In 1940 Lord Pakenham, once First Lord of the Admiralty, became a Catholic, having been educated at Eton and Oxford. His wife is also a convert, so with their four sons and four daughters they form a fine Catholic family. Viscount Furness became a Catholic in 1946, and Baroness Kinloss in 1951, in which year also the Princess who is mother of Prince Bernard of the Netherlands, husband of Queen Juliana, received the gift of faith.

The phenomenon I have been dealing with is not a new one. It appeared very early in Christian history when, even in the days of persecution, the courts of the Roman Emperors were giving their quota of converts to the Church of Christ.

IV. THE ARISTOCRACY OF THE INTELLECT

It is a common opinion among the more ignorant of non-Catholics that the Catholic faith is irrational. It has even been said that in becoming a Catholic a man commits intellectual suicide. Those, however, who know the Catholic Church from within and enjoy the light of faith are thoroughly familiar with the solid, rational basis of their religion. But how can we convince the outsider? In many cases he will not take the trouble to examine the foundation of our faith, or will be so blinded by prejudice that he cannot see what is so obvious to us who have our eyes open. But there is one argument which may have weight, a fact that clamours for an explanation, and it is this: that many of those who come into the Catholic Church from outside are eminent for their intellectual powers. It must be kept in mind that no one can be received into the Church who has not first been fully instructed about the authority of the Church and about her doctrines. If, then, men of high intellectual powers give their minds to the study of the doctrines, and are convinced that they must submit and become Catholics, that surely is a very strong extrinsic argument for the truth of the Catholic faith. Even the prejudiced must admit that here is a striking fact which demands an explanation.

About the reality of this fact there can be no question. The difficulty is to know where to begin and where to end. To be complete we should need to traverse the universities and learned academies of the world; but, as in all these articles, only a few select examples can be given. The Gladstone Professor of Greek in the University of Liverpool, Arthur Hilary Armstrong, son of a parson, is a convert (1942). The University Lecturer in German at Oxford and his wife, University Lecturer in French, are both converts to the Catholic faith (Mr. and Mrs. H. G. Barnes). A. C. F. Beales, Lecturer in Education at King’s College in the University of London since 1935, became a Catholic in that year; he is the author of a Penguin Special, The Catholic Church and International Order. He is not the only one connected with the University of London who has come into the Catholic Church from outside. Other examples are, Bevan Bevan-Baker, who was Professor of Mathematics for over twenty years; Francis Yvon Eccles, who was Professor of French Literature from 1920 to 1934; and George Temple, who has recently been appointed Sedleian Professor of Natural Philosophy at Oxford, but was for over twenty years Professor of Mathematics in the University of London.

It will not do to neglect the ladies. Among these we have (besides one already mentioned) a scientific writer known to the older generation, Agnes Mary Clerke, Fellow of the Royal Astronomical Society; Mrs. Frank Elgee, a wellknown antiquarian, and Life Member of the General Committee of the British Association; she became a Catholic with her husband (also an antiquarian) in 1934; Miss Dorothy Garrod, who has the honour of being the first woman professor appointed at the University of Cambridge, where she is Disney Professor of Archaeology. To these we may add Agnes HeadlamMorley, who was Fellow and Tutor of St. Hugh’s College, Oxford, from 1932 to 1948, and is now the Montague Burton Professor of International Relations at Oxford University; Miss Dorothea Paton, who is Lecturer in French at the University of Reading (she is the daughter of a parson, and entered the Church in 1945); Miss Jocelyn Toynbee (sister of the well-known writer, Arnold Toynbee), who is Fellow and Director of Studies in Classics at Newnham College, and University Lecturer in Classics; and Mrs. Humphrey Watts, Research Scholar of the University of Birmingham, who has held university positions in the United States, in Ireland, and in England, and is the author of several books on biology and botany.

Practically every branch of learning is represented among converts. The Royal Astronomical Society has been mentioned, and there was a President of that Society who was a distinguished and devout convert, Andrew Crommelin, who worked at Greenwich Observatory from 1891 to 1927. He was one of the greatest authorities on comets and cometary orbits. His most famous piece of work, perhaps, was his calculation of the time of return of Halley’s Comet in 1910, for which he received a Doctorate of Science, honoris causa, from the University of Oxford. An obituary notice of him appeared in the Journal of the British Astronomical Association, from the pen of a Protestant minister, containing the following passage:

“A man of higher ideals and principles could not be fo und, and he carried them out faithfully and fearlessly. Many years ago he had joined the Roman Church, but those who differed from him widely on theological issues could not but be impressed by the strength and constancy of his faith in a world largely characterised by scepticism and controlled by materialistic aims.” Another distinguished astronomer was Sir Edmund Taylor Whittaker, F.R.S. After a brilliant course at Cambridge he became Fellow of Trinity College in that University, then Royal Astronomer of Ireland, and later Professor of Mathematics at the University of Edinburgh for many years (till 1936); he became a Catholic in 1930.

Oxford alone would provide a considerable list of converts. Besides those already mentioned the following may be noted. The Professor of Social Anthropology in the University, a Fellow of All Souls, Professor Evan Evans-Pritchard, is a convert from Anglicanism. Like so many others, he was the son of a parson. In the year 1934, a Senior Proctor of the University, Professor Harold Hanbury, now Vinerian Professor of English Law, became a Catholic with his wife. Another distinguished Oxford scholar is Colin Graham Hardie, Fellow and Tutor in Classics, Magdalen College, formerly Director of the British School at Rome. He is son of a Professor of Latin at Edinburgh University, and he became a Catholic in 1945.

Scotland has provided many converts in the learned world. John Swinnerton Phillimore (son of Admiral Sir Augustus Phillimore), a very distinguished classical scholar, was converted while Professor of Greek at Glasgow University. Another scholar of this university was Steuart Napier Miller, who was Lecturer in Roman History and Archaeology. He conducted excavations of Roman sites. Sir William Wallace McKechnie, formerly Lecturer in Greek at Edinburgh University and then in Humanity at Glasgow University, and later Secretary of the Scottish Education Department for many years, became a Catholic at the age of 75 in 1947.

Very many names could be added to this list. One of the more recent converts who should not be omitted is George Wickens, a distinguished Oriental scholar. He was attached to the British Embassy at Teheran from 1942 to 1945, and then became Lecturer in Arabic and Persian at the University of London. He is now University Lecturer in Arabic at Cambridge. He became a Catholic after the War.

Worthy of mention, also, are James Munro Cameron, Lecturer in Philosophy at the University of Leeds, who entered the Church in 1944, Jonathan Tate, Professor of Greek and Dean of the Faculty of Arts at the University of Sheffield, and Dr. Frank Sherwood Taylor, Director of the Science Museum, London. I conclude with the name of Professor Max Planck, one-time Rector of Berlin University and recipient of the Nobel Prize in 1918 for his work as a physicist. He revolutionised modern physics by his quantum theory. One of the outstanding geniuses of our time, he became a Catholic in 1947, only a few months before his death.

When we reflect on the significance of so many conversions from the ranks of learning, we realise the soundness of what C. K. Chesterton so often insisted on: “To become a Catholic is not to leave off thinking, but to learn to think”; “Most men would return to the old ways in faith and morals if they could broaden their minds enough to do so”; “A convinced Catholic is easily the most hard-headed and logical person walking about the world today”; “Conversion is the beginning of an active fruitful, progressive, and even adventurous life of the intellect”; “It is only since I have known orthodoxy that I have known mental emancipation.”

V. THE WORLD OF LETTERS

I have preserved the following notice of Mrs. Romanes, wife of Professor G. J. Romanes, F.R.S., which appeared some years ago in a London Anglican paper:

“The death of Mrs. Romanes removes from us one formerly the centre of a large circle of intellectual people, and one gifted with, considerable social influence. She was certainly at her best during the lifetime of her distinguished husband. As a writer, she will he remembered as his biographer, and for the very attractive memoir of her daughter, whose early death was so great a loss to the Community at Wantage, of which she was a member. Mrs. Romanes was for many years associated with the Anglo-Catholic Revival,at Christ Church, Albany Street, St. Mary Magdalen’s, Munster Square, and St. Matthew’s, Westminster. What exactly led to her secession to the Roman Church or precisely what she there obtained which devotionally or intellectually she failed to secure in the English Church, we have never been able to discover. We write with the happiest memories of her sympathy and kindliness. Hers was a most interesting family circle. Her liveliness and rapidity formed the greatest contrast to her husband’s slow, deliberate and weighty manner; but they blended wonderfully. It was a home into which it was a privilege to be admitted.”

The spirit in which this is written is admirable, but surely it displays a strange inability to understand why people join the Catholic Church.It is not a question of obtaining some extra aid to devotion, nor even of satisfying one’s intellectual needs; converts come into the Catholic Church because they see in her the one Church which Jesus Christ established. They become convinced that they are outside the one flock of Christ, and they wish, at all costs to get into it. It is hard to make some people see that religion is not a matter of personal choice and taste. Shortly before Robert Hugh Benson, son of an Archbishop of Canterbury, became a Catholic, a clergyman whom he consulted at his mother’s wish urged on him points in the Catholic system which he was sure Benson would not like. “I tried in vain,” the latter writes, “to make it clear that I proposed becoming a Roman Catholic, not because I was necessarily attracted by her customs, but because I believed that Church to be the Church of God.”

This mention of two writers who were converts may serve as an introduction to an article on converts who belong to the world of letters. Writers, as a class, are people who have to think. It is interesting, therefore, to note how many well-known writers have been led to accept the truth of the Catholic faith. R. H. Benson, whom I have just mentioned, is not so well known to this generation as he was to the one that is just passing away; but his books are well worth reading. Besides religious works like Confessions of a Convert and The Religion of the Plain Man, he wrote several historical novels dealing with the Reformation period in England (such as By What Authority? and The King’s Achievement), and a long list of others, like The Conventionalists, The Necromancers, and The Dawn of All. They could be found in any Catholic Library.

Cardinal Newman is, of course, one of the acknowledged masters of English prose. Read Birrell’s essay on Newman in Res Judicatae and you will probably be moved to look into the long line of volumes that bear Newman’s name. Birrell’s advice to one as yet unacquainted with the Cardinal’s writings is to begin with the Lectures on the Present Position of Catholics in England, which he calls one of the best humoured books in the English language. It is worth noting that Newman improved as a writer when he became a Catholic. Here is Birrell’s comment: “The contrast between the Anglican and the Catholic writer is enormous. It is like the meeting of great waters. The one restrained, at times uneasy, eminently unpopular, remote from the trodden paths of feeling; the other exuberant, though never redundant, triumphant, sometimes to the pitch of boisterousness, sweeps along, marshalling forces, polishing epigrams, and making appeals, no longer to the scholar and theologian and prim church-goer, but to the man in the street ― the rank and file of humanity.”

There was one man, a minister of the Established Church, Charles Kingsley, who accused the Catholic priesthood, and Newman in particular, of a partiality for lying. When Newman took him to task, Kingsley had not the manliness to withdraw or the prudence to run away; he tried to bluster:

“What, then, does Dr. Newman mean?” And Dr. Newman gave Kingsley his answer and the world a masterpiece of literature and a most precious human document in his Apologia. Kingsley is remembered chiefly for his antiCatholic bias, while Newman gained a position in the esteem of men that he will never lose. Newman never bore any illwill to his adversary, and when Kingsley died he offered Mass for him. Kingsley’s youngest daughter, a novelist well-known as Lucas Malet, became a Catholic.

We cannot enumerate allthe writers who have entered the Church since Newman’s day. Wherever we turn in the records of literature and publishing we come across the names of converts. Sir F. C. Burnand, editor of Punch for 26 years, and responsible (with Sullivan) for the well-known operetta Box and Cox, was a convert. The founder and first editor of the Windsor Magazine was one also. So were the original Burns and Oates and Washbourne, who gave their names to the well-known Catholic publishing firm. Burns was the son of a Presbyterian minister; his five daughters became nuns, as did also his wife, herself a convert, after the death of her husband. Kegan Paul, Rivington, Sands, Crosby Lockwood, Simpson Marshall, Eyre and Spottiswoode, are other publishing firms closely associated with converts to the Catholic Church. There was no newspaper correspondent in the last generation more famous than Ashmead-Bartlett, and he died a Catholic. Max Pemberton became a Catholic. The name of the poet, Michael Field, conceals the names of two convert ladies; John Oliver Hobbes was the pen-name of the convert novelist, Mrs. Craigie. W. H. Mallock put off his entry into the Church till the very end of his life, but his sister, herself an author and niece of James Anthony Froude, had become a Catholic earlier. To these we may add the poets Aubrey de Vere, Coventry Patniore, and Adelaide Ann Proctor, and the distinguished writer, Marion Crawford. His sister, Mrs. Hugh Fraser (wife of a British Minister in Japan), was also a convert; she is known for her books, A Diplomatist’s Wife in Japan, and A Diplomatist’s Wife in Many Lands, and novels. Among those who may be reckoned as belonging to the last generation may be added Miss Alma-Tadema, Wilfrid and Alice Meynell, Isobel Clarke, and Enid Dinnis. This leaves us with no room for the better-known names of the present day, which must be reserved for a further article.

Among relatives of literary people who became Catholics may be noted a brother of Matthew Arnold; the sister of Sir Rider Haggard (Baronessd”Anethan, herself an author); a niece of Thackeray; the father, mother, and wife of Sir Philip Gibbs; the daughter of Nathaniel Hawthorne, Rose Lathrop, who after her husband’s death devoted herself to nursing cancer sufferers in New York, became a nun, and founded a cancer hospital; Mrs. Stephen Gwynn; Mrs. Coulson Kernahan; and many others. All the direct descendants of Byron and Dickens and Scott are Catholics.

VI. SOME MODERN CONVERT WRITERS

There is a difficulty about dividing converts into classes, for some could be put in more than one class. For example, two of the most brilliant writers of today might be more naturally mentioned under clerical converts, Father Martindale and Mgr. Ronald Knox. The former became a Catholic on leaving Harrow, and had a distinguished career at Oxford. He has been pouring out books and articles at an alarming rate for most of the time ever since. He has to his credit several biographies, of R. H. Benson, Father Bernard Vaughan, and Father Carrold, S.J. (another convert writer who produced some of the best Catholic school stories ever written), volumes of sermons, colourful records of his travels (as in The Risen Sun, a book about Australia and New Zealand), lives of saints (including the popular broadcast talks, What Are Saints?), and various books on the spiritual life. Two of his minor works can be confidently recommended, Jock, Jack, and the Corporal, and Mr. Francis Newnes. In these Father Martindale’s intimate knowledge of men, and his power of portraying vividly life as he finds it, are conspicuous. Few readers, on completing Jock, Jack, and the Corporal, could guess—the end which its lovable hero reaches in the sequel, Mr. Francis Newnes.

Mgr. Knox, son of a late bishop of Manchester, was received into the Church in 1917, and is another writer of great brilliance and versatility. He excels in any branch of literature that he attempts. He has published many volumes of sermons, equally practical whether addressed to Oxford undergraduates or convent schoolgirls, ingenious mystery stories, Essays in Satire (read the brilliant skit on the higher critics in which he proves from internal evidence that Tennyson’s In Memoriam was written by Queen Victoria), and novels (his Barchester Pilgrimage might have been written by Trollope himself). His translation of the Bible is a monumental work. A very useful book, which is not among the best known, perhaps because of its more prosaic title, is The Belief of Catholics. The book which tells the story of his conversion is entitled A Spiritual Aeneid. A new edition appeared a few years ago, with Preface, “After Thirtythree Years.” In this he writes:

“The step which I took in 1917 is one which I have never had the wish, never even the velleity, to retract. . . . . . It is often said of us converts-a friend of mine heard it said of me, years ago, on the top of an omnibus, “He realizes, now, that he’s made a mistake.” But in fact I have never experienced a mood of discouragement or of hesitation, during these last thirty-three years, that has suggested, even on the horizon of my mind, the possibility of going back where I came from.”

And later he adds:

“For the world’s benefit, there is nothing to add to what Maurice Baring wrote in The Puppet-Show of Memory: “On the eve of Candlemas, 1909, I was received into the Catholic Church by Father Sebastian Bowden at the Brompton Oratory; the only action in my life which I am quite certain I have never regretted”.”

If I mistake not, Mgr. Knox called Baring’s autobiography, just mentioned, “the perfect autobiography.” It is a puzzle that some editions leave out the reference to his conversion. Maurice Baring (who was heir-presumptive to Lord Revelstoke) was a distinguished writer and a man of high character. He was a great help to C. K. Chesterton in finding the true faith, and his letter of congratulation when Chesterton entered the Church contained the following passage:

“Every day I live, the Church seems to me more and more wonderful; the Sacraments more and more solemn and sustaining; the voice of the Church, her liturgy, her rules, her discipline, her ritual, her decisions in matters of Faith and Morals more and more excellent and profoundly wise and true and right, and her children stamped with something that those outside Her are without. There I have found Truth and reality and everything outside Her is to me compared with Her as dust and shadow.”

That is the experience and judgment of a cultured and gifted convert, well worth our thoughtful consideration. Dame Ethel Smyth, in her book on Baring (published in 1938), says regarding his conversion:

“Perhaps it is permissible to add, without further comment, that, informed of the event many months after it had happened, one had the feeling that the missing piece of a complicated puzzle, or rather the only key wherewith a given iron safe could be unlocked, had at last been found. He remarks that this is the only action of his life which he is quite sure he never regretted, and I fancy that most people who know him of whatever persuasion, or even of no persuasion at all―will have seen, or anyhow have come to see it eventually, as a matter for nothing but rejoicing.”

That is the comment of a sympathetic non-Catholic.

Justice could not be done to Chesterton if the whole of this article were devoted to him. A writer of prose and verse that needed no signature to tell us whose they were, a lover of his country and mankind, a champion of the truth, a laughing warrior, he has enriched our literature permanently with work that will surely be prized as long as men value keen thought and vivid expression. He finished his Autobiography (but what an autobiography!) only a few weeks before his lamented death. As Birrell gives advice to those beginning to read Newman, so I venture to advise those who want an introduction to Chesterton to begin with the volume of essays entitled The Thing. G. K.”s brother, Cecil, had become a Catholic ten years before his more famous brother. But his fame, too, is secure for the work he did with Hilaire Belloc on the Eye-Witness and the New Witness, and the efforts he made for purity in political life by exposure of the Marconi scandal. Strangely enough, the other protagonist in that fight, Godfrey Isaacs, who was managing director of the Marconi Company and brother of the Attorney-General, Sir Rufus Isaacs, and a Jew, became a Catholic and died not long after Cecil Chesterton had met his death in a military hospital in France. “No one would have rejoiced more than my brother,” writes G. K. in his Autobiography.

But those mentioned are only a few out of a vast host. Among women writers we have Vera Barclay, Enid Dinnis, Isobel Clarke, Pamela Frankau (who became a Catholic in 1952), Cecily Hallack, daughter of a parson, whose books are fortunately being now reprinted, Frances Parkinson Keyes, Clare Boothe Luce, Esther Meynell, Margaret Monro, Naomi Royde Smith, Rosalind Murray (daughter of Professor Gilbert Murray), and Sigrid Undset. The last was a famous Norwegian novelist who was a Nobel Prize winner in 1928, and the first woman, not of royal birth, to receive the Grand Cross of the Order of St. Olaf. She became a Catholic in 1924 and died in 1949. Sheila Kaye-Smith, who has over thirty novels to her name, is a convert, as is her husband, a former parson. She has written an account of her conversion in a book entitled Three Ways Home.

There is room for only a few of the best known among those that remain. Christopher Dawson and Christopher Hollis are outstanding among modern writers. Grahame Greene, Bruce Marshall, and Evelyn Waugh are familiar names. The last-named has had his life of Edmund Campion issued recently among the Penguin books. J. B. Morton is a brilliant and versatile author and journalist; he became a Catholic in 1922. D. B. Wyndham Lewis became a Catholic a year earlier. Sir Arnold Lunn, Sir Compton Mackenzie, and Sir Shane Leslie, have all been knighted fairly recently. Lunn made an honourable capitulation after having fought against the Church for a period, and has made valuable contributions to Catholic literature. Two of his best known books are Now I See and Within That City. Alfred Noyes, one of the greatest of living poets, is the author of a fine defence of Christianity, The Unknown God; he has recently published an interesting autobiography under the title of Two Worlds for Memory.

Everyone will be able to recall the names of convert writers who have been omitted; but enough have been mentioned to prove how strongly literature is represented among this class of Catholics. If so many men and women—most of them of outstanding ability- have in recent times turned to the ancient faith, should it not encourage others, in these dark days of the world’s history, to seek in the religion of Jesus Christ the solution of the problems of the individual and of the world?

********

These articles appeared originally in The Australian Messenger of the Sacred Heart and are here reprinted by the editor’s permission. The limitation of space imposed by their periodical form precluded anything like completeness in the enumeration of converts of any particular class. Only selected examples have been given of a phenomenon which has surely a profound significance both for those within and those without the Church. An effort has been made to be accurate, but in such a mass of names, dates, and biographical details, errors are possible. Some of the statements are to be taken as true at the time of writing, 1954.

St. Mary’s

North Sydney,

Easter, 1955.

Nihil Obstat:

W. M. COLLINS, Diocesan Censor.

Imprimatur;

@ D. MANNIX,

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis. 10th October, 1955

The Coming of Christ

MEDITATIONS FOR ADVENT

BY RICHARD F. CLARKE S.J

INDEX

1. WHAT ADVENT IS

1. Advent is the season when we are taught to look forward both to the first coming of our Lord into the world at Christmas time, and also to His second coming at the end of time to judge the living and the dead. His first coming was to seek and to save that which was lost. His second coming will be to gather His elect into the celestial paradise, and to trample all His enemies under His feet. Shall I on that day be regarded by Him as a friend or as an enemy? Is my present life one of devotion to Him and union with Him, or one of selfishness, pride, impatience of the yoke of Christ?

2. Of all the miracles in the world, never was there one to be compared to His coming on earth in the form of a man. It was a miracle so entirely above and beyond our reason, that, unless we knew it by faith to be a fact, we should be inclined to pronounce it impossible. That the Infinite God should take the form of a creature! that the Eternal Word should be clad in a body formed of the dust of the earth! that He should of His own accord leave the highest Heaven for a life of suffering and death of agony! Nothing but the power of God could work such a wonder as this. 3. Yet we know that it is a fact. ‘For us men and for our salvation, He came down from Heaven.’ He yearned over us with a Divine love. Willingly, joyfully, almost eagerly, He stripped Himself of all His glory. ‘He humbled Himself and became obedient unto death.’ Who after this can refuse to believe that He loved us and still loves us fondly, tenderly? Who can refuse to love Him in return, and to show this love by a loyal obedience to all that He asks of us?

2. THE DIVINE DECREE

1. What brought Christ down from Heaven? It was man’s sin. From all eternity the Blessed Trinity, looking forward to the fall of man, had decreed that the Eternal Word should clothe Himself with human flesh, and should be born into the world in order to repair the evil that man had wrought. Thus God in His mercy provides a remedy for all the sins and follies of men even before they are committed. We do the harm, and God undoes it. Has He not often thus averted from me the consequences due to my evil deeds?

2. In what garb was the Son of God to clothe Himself when He became Man? In one that should give us some idea of the evil He came to undo. He, the Eternal Son, coequal with the Father, took the form of a servant, was born of a despised race, of humble parents, in poverty, and humility, and contempt. All this should impress on us how sin has deserved all these and every other evil imaginable beside. If these were the results of sin on the spotless Lamb of God, what must they be on sinful, feeble man?

3. The divine decree did not stop at this first coming of the Son of God. There is to be a second Advent, but one in which He will appear in human form indeed, yet now no longer in lowliness and humiliation, but clothed with all the brightness and glory which His Divine Nature can impart to His Sacred Humanity. In this second coming He is to come and receive the reward that He has earned for His human nature, and for all those who had faithfully served Him. He is to come and reign. He is to crush all His enemies under His feet. Look forward to that glorious day, and pray that you may share the glory of the Son of God.

3. THE ANNOUNCEMENT OF HIS COMING

I. For a short time after their creation our first parents lived in perfect peace and happiness in the Garden of Eden. If they had continued obedient to the authority of their Creator during their whole time of probation, there would have been no need for the advent of the Son of God as their Redeemer from sin, for sin there would have been none. It was their deliberate rebellion that was the occasion that determined the visit of the Word to this world of ours. No wonder that the Church sings: O felix culpa! O happy transgression, which earned a Redeemer such as this! Admire God’s wonderful Providence in thus bringing good out of evil, and advantage to man for his very sin.

2. The promise made was couched in words that gave no immediate prospect of the crushing of the serpent’s head and the destruction of His power. It left the curse of sin upon the earth and its inhabitants and announced the sorrows that would accompany them through their time of sojourn here. That law still holds. Christ came to abolish sin, but not its temporal consequences. He who sins shall suffer, is a law which Christ fulfilled and in no way destroyed. 3. Yet the promise of a Redeemer rekindled the light of hope in the souls of Adam and Eve. They and all their children were ever looking and praying for His coming. God’s intention was to keep them in expectancy. So, too, with His second coming. There has always been a tradition of expectation. ‘ Blessed is the man whom his Lord, when He cometh, shall find watching.’ Hence learn to watch and pray, Come quickly, O Lord Jesus!

4. THE LONG DARKNESS

1. The light extinguished at the Fall was rekindled in the hearts of our first parents when the promise was given them of a Redeemer who should undo the fatal mischief that had been done. But in their children Adam and Eve had to lament the fatal effects of that deadly evil that they had introduced into the world. As generation followed generation, thicker and thicker grew the darkness, farther and farther did men wander away from the light, that gave to each the power of guiding his feet aright from earth to Heaven. Thus it is that each ill deed goes on bearing its deadly fruit, often long after the doer is dead and gone.

2. Yet every man had light and grace sufficient, and more than sufficient, to enable him to walk in the ways of God, and to find his way to the Kingdom of Heaven. But none save a very few availed themselves of it. ‘They loved darkness more than light.’ The world gradually lost all regard for virtue or for God. How grateful should I be to God that I live in happier days.

3. If I had lived then, what should I have been? Even with all my countless graces and advantages, what a poor specimen I am of one made by God, for God, and in the image of God. In heathen days should I not have been among the most depraved? Should I not have recklessly indulged my own inclinations, irrespective of the voice of God warning and reproaching me? What chance should I have had of saving my soul in those days of dark corruption and depravity?

5. TRANSIENT GLEAMS

1. From time to time there broke through the thick darkness of heathendom a gleam of light that seemed to be a harbinger of the coming day. Some sage or poet sang of a golden age that soon would be at hand. But the flash of light soon disappeared, and only left the darkness even darker than before. So in the life of those who have hardened themselves against God there are sometimes moments when the devil seems to have forsaken his prey, and there seems a hope of better things. But if Jesus’ coming is still far away, the improvement soon passes, and the evil seems to have even a more complete mastery than ever before.

2. There is something very beautiful in the sentiments of the old Greek and Roman poets. Their minstrelsy rings sweetly in our ears. Their poems proclaim them men of the highest genius. But they have no power to effect a change of heart, such as is wrought by the inspired words of some great saint or servant of God. God must speak through man’s voice, if it is to avail to turn others to God. Do I pray God thus to rule and direct my words that they may do His work?

3. So, too, many of the deeds of the heroes of antiquity appear worthy of the holy ones of God. Some may have been done from a supernatural motive, and may even have merited eternal life. But no act, however noble in the natural order, is of any value in the sight of God, unless it be done with some sort of conscious desire to please and serve Him. Do my ordinary actions possess this necessary characteristic?

6.THE GOLDEN THREAD

1. All through the long ages that elapsed from the promise to the coming of the Redeemer, a golden thread of light from Heaven ran athwart their darkness. In the chosen people of Israel there ever prevailed a strong conviction of the coming of a Saviour, who was to deliver His people from all sin and evil. It was handed down from generation to generation, and was again and again renewed by the inspired declarations of the Prophets of Israel. Thus God in His mercy never leaves Himself without a witness to reveal to men of goodwill the message of hope. 2. So through all the centuries that have passed since the coming of our Lord, the Catholic Church has been the golden thread of light amid the darkness of heresy and heathendom. What a bright and glorious thread! What a contrast to all around! How it has, through God’s mercy, enlightened my life! How can I ever thank God sufficiently that, led by its Divine light, I am travelling on in peace and safety to the Heavenly Jerusalem!

3. So, too, there runs through the life of all those who are to attain at last to the eternal happiness of Heaven a golden thread which never wholly disappears, even though their steps may wander far from the right path. Sometimes it is kindness to the poor; sometimes devotion to the holy souls; very often it is a reverence to the Holy Mother of God that thus runs through the whole of life. In my life God has interwoven some such thread. Do I follow it up with grateful perseverance?

7. THE CAUSES OF DELAY

1. If the wickedness of the world in heathen times was so great, how was it that the coming of the Redeemer was so long delayed? To this question we can only give one answer with absolute certainty, that it was so decreed by Almighty God in His infinite wisdom. We cannot hope in this life to comprehend the mysteries of the Providence of the Most High. We can only humbly bow our heads and say that the Redeemer came when God so willed, and that what God wills is necessarily the best.

2. Yet we can at least form some kind of conjecture as to the causes of delay. God works by natural means. In order that the religion of Jesus should spread all over the world by the ordinary working of the laws that govern the affairs of men, it was convenient that the world should be subject to one central power. This was never the case until, at the time of Christ’s Nativity, the Roman Empire was mistress of the world. Thus God prepares the way for His designs of mercy, and arranges the world’s events according to His will, yet without forcing the wills of men. 3. There was another reason for the long delay. It was to teach us that God does nothing hurriedly. He always waits before putting into execution His decrees. In this He wishes us to imitate Him. The Eternal Wisdom of the Most High needs no time for deliberation. His works are not gradually perfected, or improved on second thoughts. But ours are, and the slow action of the Providence of God should impress upon us the importance of waiting before we act, and considering and re-considering all our plans.

8. THE APPROACHING DAY

1. When the sun is soon to appear above the horizon, the morning star, shining with a light derived indeed from him, but nevertheless shining bright and clear even before his coming, gives the signal of his approach. So the Holy Mother of God, dawning upon the world with a grace and beauty which was the gift of her Divine Son, anticipated His Incarnation and made the world more beautiful in God’s sight than it had ever been before. Mary was more precious to God than all the rest of men, and this quite independently of her Divine Maternity. Consider why this was, and learn a lesson for yourself.

2. The morning star is still clearly seen when all other stars have been extinguished by the light of the coming day. Mary has a brilliancy so great that the brightness of all the other saints fades into nothing in comparison with hers. If this was the case even in comparison with the glory of St John Baptist, St Joseph, Abraham the Patriarch, the friend of God, Job, the model of patience, Daniel, the beloved of God, what must her glory be! Thank God for having created one child of Adam worthy of Himself.

3. Mary’s consummate beauty is the consequence of there being in her nothing of her own. All was God’s; no admixture of self in her motives, in her aims, in her joys and sorrows, her love and hatred. Her affections were simply a reflection of what God loved and hated; like God she loved all things except sin, and those who were the declared and eternal enemies of God. She desired nothing for herself except that she might see God’s holy will fulfilled in all. Is this the account that you can give of yourself? Only if this is so are you a worthy child of Mary.

9. THE FULFILMENT OF THE DECREE

1. The promised coming of the Redeemer had indeed been long delayed. Patriarch had succeeded Patriarch, and died without having the privilege of seeing that long-expected day. The long line of the Prophets had passed away, but their desire after the Messias had not been satisfied. God always keeps His servants waiting for His best gifts, and therefore it was but fitting that they should wait for thousands of years before receiving this Gift of gifts, this Gift in which He gave them Himself.

2. The Second Person of the Blessed Trinity had also been waiting for one whose immaculate purity should make her fit, as far as any child of Adam could be fit, to be His Mother. There had been many holy women among the daughters of Abraham, but none without sin, and therefore none in whose womb the Son of God could find repose. If Christ thus could not come to dwell with one who was stained with sin, what must be the purity He requires now of those whose Guest He becomes in Holy Communion? O Jesus, forgive me all my careless receptions of Thee; my want of careful preparation, my faults innumerable !

3. Christ Himself had prepared a resting-place for Himself in Mary’s sacred breast. As we read in Holy Scripture: The Most High has sanctified a tabernacle for Himself. So now, if I am to be fit to receive Him, He must prepare my heart. Do I think of this during my preparation for Communion, and pray Him to cleanse me from every stain in His most Precious Blood, to beautify with many graces the tabernacle where He is to abide?

10. THE FORERUNNER OF THE KING

1. St John Baptist was the chosen messenger to proclaim the coming of the King of kings. No other herald had so important an office. He had to prepare the hearts of men for the coming of the Messias. It was this that constituted him the greatest of those who were born of women. If to proclaim the coming of Christ in the flesh was so solemn and responsible an office, what must be the dignity and responsibility of the priests of God, who are sent to announce His second coming in glory?

2. How did St John prepare for his work? By a life of seclusion and penance. From childhood he lived alone in the desert, his bed the hard ground, his meat locusts and wild honey, his dress a camel’s skin. Our Lord contrasts him with those who wear soft raiment. No one who lives a life of luxury will ever be an efficient messenger of God. A priest above all must avoid a life of ease and self-indulgence, if he wishes to win souls for Christ.

3. The secret of St John’s success was thus the result of practising what he preached. He practised much more than he preached, for he enjoined upon his hearers the simple performance of ordinary duties while he led a life of continual penance and self-denial. If our words are to carry any weight we must not preach without practising. The parent or superior who has the training of the young, will never train them up to virtue unless he himself is a man of virtue. No one can reach the hearts of others unless he first carries out the lessons he teaches others. Do I do this?

11. THE FORERUNNER’S MESSAGE

1. The refrain of St John’s teaching was a very simple and constant one. ‘Do penance, for the Kingdom of Heaven is at hand.’ It seems strange advice. The coming of the King of Heaven might be a reason for joy on the part of those who looked for Him, and of dread on the part of His enemies. But why for doing penance? Yet the teaching of St John is true now, as it was at the time his words were first spoken. Penance is the means of preparation for the advent of our King. This explains the Saint’s love of penance. What penance do I practise with this object?

2. Yet after all it is the natural and most suitable means of preparation. It helps us to bring into subjection that lower nature, which rebels against the sovereignty of our King. It detaches us from finding our satisfaction in earthly things. It is in itself an act of obedience to our King. It renders us humble, and teaches us to put our necks under the yoke. It saves us from being separated from the Kingdom we are to share by the long prison of Purgatory. Learn from all this, to love penance.

3. Penance is a necessary preparation for receiving our King when He comes to us in humble form in Holy Communion. This is why Confession is the preliminary of that Sacred Feast, and why contrition is necessary. We must purge our souls by prayer and penance and sorrow for sins, if we are to rejoice exceedingly in the Bridegroom’s presence, and to hear His voice sweetly whispering in our ears. Do I prepare thus for Holy Communion?

12. THE FORERUNNER’S OFFICE

1. St John was something more than a herald. He had to prepare the way for the King, to make the crooked ways straight, and the rough places smooth. His office was that which is entrusted to us all in our own sphere; to try and make the way in which the followers of Christ have to tread straight and easy. What a privilege if we can by our charity and our edifying life make the path of life more easy for those whose lot it is to tread the way of the Cross and to walk over rough or stormy paths. Is this your endeavour in your daily life, or do you place obstacles in the path of others by your bad example, want of charity and consideration, impatience, etc.

2. St John, as the Herald or Forerunner of Christ, had to proclaim the coming of the King. He himself expresses this by his description of himself as the voice of one who cries in the desert; that is, Christ spoke through his mouth. So He speaks through the mouths of all His servants just in proportion to their devotion and singleness of purpose. How poor an echo are my words of the whispers of Christ to the faithful soul. How mixed with the discordant notes of self-will to worldliness !

3. St John’s estimate of himself in comparison with Him whom he announced was that he was not worthy to stoop down and untie the latchet of His sandal. This was the duty of the lowest slaves. It meant that he was unworthy to serve Christ, even in the capacity of a slave, and by doing the work that many slaves would consider beneath them. Am I willing to undertake the humblest and most menial duties in the service of Christ? Do I consider it a privilege to do so?

13. HOPE

1. Advent is essentially a time of hope. It is not in itself a time of joy except so far as hope of joy to come brings with it a present gladness. It is an exact representation of our life on earth. We are in a place of exile and a valley of tears, but yet our hope amid all the darkness should be lighted up and rendered joyous by the prospect of future joy. The motto of our life is our Lord’s farewell words to His disciples: ‘You indeed shall have sorrow, but your sorrow shall be turned into joy.’ This must be my consolation in all sorrow. I must try and forget my present troubles in the happy thought of the joy to come.

2. Why have we so little hope? Generally because we seek to have our happiness here, and so forfeit the right to it hereafter, or at least forfeit the right to look forward to it with confidence and joy. We cannot eat our cake and keep it. If I seek my satisfaction in money, or comforts, or praise, or applause, or affection of others, I have my reward here and cannot expect to get any reward hereafter. I have no crown of justice to hope for if already I have had the crown of satisfied ambition, or pockets filled with money, or a tickled palate, or the buzzing applause of a crowd. 3. Our hope is also marred by our self-will, which prevents our will from being in complete conformity with the will of God. We are conscious of a sort of barrier between ourselves and Him which sadly interferes with our hope. We have assumed a sort of independence of God which renders it impossible for Him to pour into our hearts that hope which is in exact proportion to our conformity to His will. If I were humble and more resigned in all things, I should be more full of hope.

14. REJOICE

1. The time of preparation is a mingled period of penance and of joy. Of penance, by reason of our sins, which have removed us so far away from God; of joy, at the prospect of being brought near to Him once more through Jesus Christ. On mid-Advent, as on mid-Lent Sunday, it is the joyful side of the matter that comes before us. More than this, joy is insisted upon as a duty. It seems strange that the command to rejoice should be necessary. Do not all men love joy, and seek after it unbidden? One thing it shows, that God desires that we should be full of joy. Thank Him for this merciful intention, and try and carry it out.

2. Yet it is not all kinds of joy that is recommended to us. There are many kinds of joy that the Apostle would be far from recommending. To rejoice in the world is but a sorry kind of joy, on account of its transitory character. Gaudete in Domino, says the Apostle- ‘Rejoice in the Lord.’ This is the only joy that lasts, and the only joy that is really worth the having.

3. What does St Paul mean by rejoicing in the Lord? He means the joy that is the result of such a love of God, as makes us simply wish that His will should be done in all things, and that feels positive joy in seeing the accomplishment of the Divine will, quite apart from any personal advantage or disadvantage that may accrue to ourselves. This is the secret of true joy, for then what befalls ourselves is a matter of indifference to us. Be it weal or woe, success or failure, we rejoice in it simply because it is what God has ordained for us. This is the meaning of our Lord’s words, ‘Your joy no man taketh from you.’

15. REJOICE ALWAYS

1. St Paul goes beyond the mere command to rejoice, and to rejoice in the Lord; he also bids us to rejoice always. Is this possible? Yes, it is quite possible. If it were not, the Apostle would not have imposed it upon us. It is not easy, because our self-love and our selfishness destroy joy. But the saints, who had driven self-love out of their hearts, found it a pleasant and an easy task to be always joyful. If we desire the same, we must do our best to get rid of this hindrance to our joy.

2. How are we to accomplish this task? It must be a gradual one. It is to be arrived at by many acts of submission to the will of God, and to the will of others when opposed to our own; and the submission must have for its motive, not the intellectual conviction that what we ourselves desire is in itself inferior, but the determination to submit for the sake of submission, and as an act of reverence to God. We must be willing to submit both will and intellect to those set over us, without complaining or questioning their commands. Do I do so?

3. When this painful process is over, and when at length we begin to learn the happiness of giving up our own will to the will of others, we soon begin to receive the reward of our self-conquest. We acquire by degrees an undisturbed calm of soul, and an increasing strength of will, as the fruits of our victory over self, and above all a happy consciousness that we have been learning the lesson of conforming our will to the will of God, in which the happiness of Heaven consists.

16. THE SECOND COMING OF CHRIST

1. When the Apostles on Mount Olivet were gazing after their Master, who had just ascended into Heaven, two Angels stood by them, and announced to them that He who had just vanished from their sight would return in like manner. Our Lord Himself had already declared that He would come again with power and great glory and would sit upon the throne of His glory. At the sound of His approach the dead will rise from their graves to meet Him, and the nations of the world who have not accepted His sway will be filled with unspeakable terror and dismay. What will be the dispositions with which I shall rise again to meet Christ? What would they be now if He were to come today? 2. The object of His coming will be to judge the living and the dead. All that is now hidden will be made manifest before the world. All the secret thoughts and whispered words, and actions concealed from the eyes of men, will then be made manifest. How should I like to have all my base and low motives dragged to light, all my unkind words revealed to those against whom they were spoken, all those actions, of which I cannot myself think without shame, proclaimed so that all may behold them?

3. Our Lord will come, radiant in majesty and glory, to crush His enemies under His feet and reward His faithful soldiers and servants. How great then will be the ignominy and shame of the mighty men of earth, if they have not bowed their neck to the King of kings! How full of joy will be the hearts of all who have humbled themselves before Him! How will they be beautiful beyond compare, and honoured before His holy Angels! Learn now to humble yourself under the yoke of Christ.

17. THE SIGNS OF HIS COMING

1. One of the signs of the Second Coming of our Lord being nigh at hand will be that no one will expect it. All the world will be satisfied that things will go on as hitherto for many a century, and they will ask: Where is the promise of His coming? In this, too, life of the individual is often a miniature of the history of the world. Christ comes again to many an unexpecting soul when sudden death, through some accident or unsuspected disease, carries off in a moment the man who thought he had long years to live. ‘BIessed is he whom his Lord, when He cometh, shall find watching.’ 2. Another warning of our Lord’s approach will be the coming of Antichrist. He will be one whose authority and power will be a counterfeit of that of the Vicar of Christ. His distinguishing marks will be overweening pride, hatred of the Catholic Church, widespread dominion, a spirit of rebellion which will enlist in his service all who revolt against the authority that comes from God. Examine yourself to see if there lurks in you any of this dislike of lawful authority, and pray for the grace of loyalty to men for God’s sake.

3. Before our Lord’s coming there will be a terrible persecution of the servants of God. In these days, when there is an ever increasing spirit of tolerance, it is hard to understand this. But under the spirit of what is called religious liberalism lurks a deadly hatred of the Church of Christ. It breaks out from time to time, as in the French Commune. It slumbers now, but will blaze up again some day. Pray for grace to withstand all the assaults of the persecutor.

18. THE UNCERTAINTY OF HIS COMING

1. Ever since our Lord’s Ascension into Heaven, His servants have watched for His return, crying out: ‘Come, O Lord Jesus, come quickly!’ In the days of the Apostles, in the early ages of the Church, in medieval times, men believed that His coming was close at hand. In these later days, it is true, the expectancy is not so immediate as it once was ; but the very fact that we think the world has still centuries to run, may be an indication that the end is not far away. Can I from my heart offer the prayer that His coming may not be long delayed?

2. Men sometimes tell us that when six thousand years have passed, the world will have run its course, and Christ will return to judge the living and the dead. It may be so; but rash indeed is he who ventures thus to fix the time, for it is our Lord Himself who tells us: ‘Of that day and that hour knoweth no man, nor the angels of God, but the Father only.’ One of the essential characteristics of that day will be its suddenness. Hence learn the importance of being always ready, and then you will be always safe.

3. We may not live till the Second Coming of Christ surprises the world; but we shall live until the day which is the call for us to judgment. That day is not far off; it may be very near, and the chance is that it will either come unexpectedly, or else will be preceded by a time which will be but a poor time for preparation. I must be prepared now, I must always be prepared for the moment when I hear the voice of God summoning me, and then the sooner that time comes the better for me.

19. THE PREPARATION FOR HIS APPROACH

Who is there who does not desire to meet Jesus Christ, when He comes again, with joy and not with trembling? To ensure this three things are necessary.

1. We must have friends amongst those who will come again with Him. Just as few die a happy death, unless they have some advocates in Heaven, so few indeed will meet our Lord with joy, unless they have some who will welcome them as having befriended them for Christ’s sake. Unless we have been men of supernatural charity, we shall stand defenceless on that day. Alas! how faint and feeble my charity has been; how little I have done to procure friends who will plead for me on that day.

2. We must also have had the thought of Jesus often present to our minds in life, if His coming is to be a joyful one to us. He must be no stranger to us. He must have been our guide, our friend, our Master, our companion. We must have walked with God on earth, if we are to walk with Him in the celestial paradise. The more familiar has been our friendship with Him, the greater will be our happiness in meeting Him again.

3. We must also have carried our cross willingly after Him on earth, if we are to meet Him with a well grounded confidence of a great reward in the kingdom which He has won for His elect. O how overflowing will be the delight of those who have lived mortified and self-denying lives for His sake! What a trifle will all their sufferings then appear in comparison with their abounding joy when the Archangel’s trumpet sounds!

20. THE DANGERS OF THE CARELESS SOUL

1. There is in human nature a fatal tendency to procrastinate, especially when that which we know we ought to do is something to which we are naturally disinclined. All men are naturally disinclined to do violence to themselves, and force their pride and self-will to yield before the sway of Christ, to put on His yoke and carry His Cross. Hence men put off and make excuses to themselves and fancy that what is difficult to them today will be easy to them tomorrow! O fatal mistake! Each day that we postpone the task of submission it becomes more difficult, more distasteful. Why then do I not hasten to submit myself entirely to Christ?

2. From day to day the careless soul thus goes on puttingoff, crying: ‘Tomorrow I will amend my ways;’ and when tomorrow comes, it still cries: ‘Tomorrow.’ How fatal is this folly! Tomorrow may never come, or if it comes, you may have forfeited the grace. Today, if you will hear His voice, harden not your hearts.

3. This postponement is always accompanied by some deliberate disobedience to the commands or to the holy inspirations of the Spirit of God. Thus the careless soul becomes more engrossed in earthly things and more and more disinclined to make the necessary effort. Thus it is that so many will be surprised by the coming of their Judge at the moment when they least expect Him, and are quite unprepared to meet Him. O Jesus, save me at any cost from the deadly state of the careless soul!

21. O SAPIENTIA

Before the feast of Christmas, the coming Saviour is welcomed in seven antiphons, which greet Him under various titles, and entreat Him to come quickly to enlighten and deliver His people.

‘O Wisdom, who camest forth from the mouth of the Most High, reaching in Thy strength from end to end, and sweetly disposing all things, come and teach us the way of prudence.’

1. The first title given to Jesus is that of Wisdom. He was the Eternal Wisdom of God, and the source of all wisdom to men from one end of time to the other. With Him all wisdom; without Him no wisdom. Yet I have sometimes fancied myself wise when I was acting quite apart from Him, and perhaps His wishes or commands. What utter folly! 2. It is the Eternal Word that disposes all things sweetly. Everything that happens in Heaven or earth is arranged by Him, and is arranged not unkindly, or harshly, or bitterly, but sweetly. Why then do I regret what I ought to know He has arranged sweetly, i.e., with designs of love for me if I take it in the right spirit?

3. Come and teach us the way of prudence. This is our first petition to Him who is to come. If only He imparts prudence, all must be well. Prudence chooses the right end, viz., the glory of God, and the right means to the end, viz., what we know God asks of us now, and in our present circumstances. Teach me, O Jesus, that lesson of prudence which will guide me safe to the Kingdom of Heaven.

22. O ADONAI

‘O Lord, and Leader of the house of Israel, who didst appear to Moses in a flame of fire in the bush, and didst give to him the law on Mount Sinai, come to redeem us with Thy stretchedout arm.’

1. The Saviour for whom we look is also our Lord (Adonai), the Leader and Chief to whom we have sworn fealty. We speak of Him continually under the familiar name of our Lord, and each time we do so we reassert our acknowledgment of the obligation to follow where He leads, and to be subject to Him in all things. O happy followers of such a Leader! If we tread in His footsteps, and obey His voice, He will set our feet in green pastures, and lead us to the fountains of the water of life.

2. The flame of fire in the burning bush was a figure of Jesus in Mary’s sacred womb. Holy indeed was the place where God was present, and whence He promised to His people their deliverance from Egypt. So He still speaks as if concealed in Mary’s womb, and reminds us that He has made her holy with a holiness second only to His own; and when we draw nigh to her, we hear His voice announcing to us that He has heard our prayers offered through her, and will soon come to deliver us from our enemies.

3. What shall be our prayer to Him when He inspires us to make our request with boldness at the throne of grace? Come to redeem us with Thy stretched-out arm. Come to deliver us from the effects of our past sins. Come to deliver us from the attachment to some sin that still lurks within us. Come to deliver us from all our countless negligences and imperfections. Come with Thine arm stretched out to ward us from the foe, O Lord and Lover of our souls.

23. O RADIX JESSE

‘O Root of Jesse, who standest for a sign to the nations, before whom kings shall shut their mouth, of whom the Gentiles shall entreat mercy; come to set us free; and no longer delay.’

1. The King who is to come is of the root of Jesse, since He is of David’s royal line. He is the true David, who laid low the spiritual Goliath, the prince of darkness, who in pagan times defied the power of the living God. He is above all the Man after God’s own heart, in that the one motive of His Heart was to carry out His Father’s will. If this is the motive power of my life, then I too am of the root of Jesse, and in spite of failings, am a man after God’s own heart, just in proportion as this motive is ever present to me.

2. Jesus is a sign to the nations; a sign of contradiction to His enemies, but before whom the most powerful will have to shut their mouth in humble subjection; a sign to His friends, the men of goodwill in every clime and country, who will be drawn to Him to offer their joyful homage at His feet, entreating of Him that mercy which He is more ready to grant than they to ask. To me He is a sign, either fondly loved, or neglected and treated as of no account. 3. O Root of Jesse, O King and Saviour, come and set us free; free from all that displeases Thee, free from the snares that entangle our feet, free from our perverse attachment to our own will, free from the power of the devil, free from our slowness in obeying Thy commands and holy inspirations, free from all that hinders us in Thy service; come and say the word, and we shall be delivered.

24. O CLAVIS DAVID

‘O Key of David, and sceptre of the house of Israel; who openest and no man shutteth, and shuttest and no man openeth; come and deliver from the prisonhouse the captive who sits in darkness and in the shadow of death.’ 1. The key and the sceptre are the symbol of supreme authority; they indicate the sway that the Saviour is to hold over His faithful people, and the right which He alone possesses of opening the gate of Heaven to the children of men, and of extending to them the golden sceptre of His mercy and forgiving love. To me, O Key of David, unworthy though I am, open in Thy mercy the door of Heaven; stretch out to me, all undeserving, the sceptre of Thy favour and Thy love. 2. Thou shuttest, O Lord, and no man opens. O shut not upon me the door which will admit me to draw nigh to Thee. Shut not upon me the door of Thy mercy and grace. Shut not the door which leads me into the inner sanctuary of Thy love. Shut not the door of that fold wherein Thy favourite children dwell in peace and happiness. Shut not, above all, the door of Paradise at my last hour.

3. Come then, O Lord, and open to me now the door of my captivity. I am a captive to my own selfwill; a captive to my want of charity; a captive to my vanity and love of display; a captive to my self-indulgence and dislike of mortification; a captive to a thousand faults of which I am scarcely conscious. Come, O Lord, and set the captive free. I am weak, and cannot break my chains unless I receive from Thee the necessary strength; come, O Lord Jesus, come quickly.

25. O ORIENS

‘O Orient, splendour of eternal light and Sun of Justice; come and enlighten those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death.’

1. The night of Pagan times was long and dark, and seemed hopeless. Deeper and deeper the nations were sinking in misery and vice. But at length the Orient, the brightness of the eternal light of Heaven, rose, and scattered the darkness, changing the gloom into a brilliant day. So, too, to those who have been long shrouded in the dense gloom of sin or sorrow there waits the same Divine light, ready to scatter their darkness in a moment, if only they will draw nigh to Him. He waits for me, ready to brighten my path, to scatter my sins and sorrows, if I will avail myself of His love.

2. That rising light is the Sun of Justice, who shall exercise His justice in delivering the captive, and in recompensing His friends a hundred, nay, a thousandfold, for every little service done to Him. For His justice is virtually identical with His mercy, and rejoices to employ itself in works of pity and of love.

3. Come then, O Orient, O Sun of Justice; shine on those who sit in darkness, on those who are enveloped in the thick mists of heathendom and heresy. Come and enlighten their ignorance, that they may not perish. Come and deliver them from the shadow of death, for they cannot deliver themselves. Pour upon them such a flood of light and grace as may guide their feet into the way of peace.

26. O REX GENTIUM

‘O King of the nations and desired of them, and the corner-stone that makest both one, come and save man whom Thou didst form of dust.’

1. Never was there a King who had such a claim to sovereignty as Christ our Lord. He is King by Divine appointment and His own right. He is King by the consentient voice of His subjects, and by the right of conquest. He is King by reason of His having purchased us with His own Blood. What unnumbered claims He has on me, and beside all the rest, does He not deserve to reign supreme by reason of His having won me by His love?

2. Christ was desired by all nations, long before they knew Him whom they desired. The heathen world felt a craving want which it could not define, but which was the desire for the Saviour who should free them from the bondage of sin. So now men of good-will outside the Church feel something of the same strange longing. Nothing will satisfy it save submission to their King by union with His mystical body the Church of God.

O, how happy am I, whose desires are fulfilled in that I am no alien, but a servant of that King whom to serve is my own desire.

3. Christ is the corner-stone that maketh both one; the King of Peace, whose work it is to unite together those who love Him in the unity of mutual love of one another for His sake. Thus He desires that I should be united to those around me, that there should be no dissension or disunion. Do I in this fulfil the pleasure of my King?

27. O EMMANUEL

‘O Emmanuel, our King and Lawgiver, the expectation of the nations and their Saviour, come to save us, O Lord our God!’

1. Emmanuel, God with us, is a name that in every way belongs to Christ our Lord. He is with His people in all their needs, ever ready to help and console them. He is with us on every altar, waiting for us to come and pour out before Him our sorrow and our needs. He is with us, above all, in Holy Communion, when He comes to dwell in our heart, and to bring with Him every grace that we need. He is with us in the hour of death, and He will be with us for ever in Heaven.

2. He who thus comes to dwell with us in familiar friendship is our King; He who thus condescends to be our companion is the God who has an absolute right to our obedience. He is our Lawgiver, and the statutes that He enacts for us have but one end and aim and object, to lead His subjects into the ways of happiness and the paths of peace. 3. Come then, O God, our Lord and our Saviour. Come and save us from all the perils of the evil one, and from our own weakness and frailty. Come and save us in the hour of temptation, for Thou alone art our King, and none save Thou shalt rule over us. Come and bring us safe through this valley of tears to Thy Eternal Kingdom, where we shall dwell for ever, O sweet Jesus, in the everlasting delights of Thy blissful company.

28. CHRISTMAS EVE

1. How did Mary and Joseph spend the first Christmas Eve? St Joseph spent it in a fruitless attempt to find a lodging for his holy spouse. Vainly he sought for a place in the caravanserai, or inn, where travellers were received. Vainly he went from house to house in Bethlehem. Everywhere he was disappointed. Thus it is that God prepares His saints and chosen ones for some signal blessing. We must not be cast down by the fruitlessness of our efforts. It is a sign that some great grace is close at hand.

2. Mary meantime was patiently waiting. She was simply praying that God’s will might be done, whatever suffering it might bring to her. She was offering herself to God, to be used by Him as He should see fit. She was making acts of perfect conformity to the will of God in all things. Blessed are those who wait patiently in such a spirit. God will soon fulfil all the desires of their heart.

3. Yet Mary and Joseph, in spite of the sorrow of the one, and the anxiety of the other, were both of them overflowing with heavenly consolations. How could it be otherwise, when one of them carried Christ in her chaste womb, and the other was more dear to God than any other of the sons of men, for he was Mary’s chosen spouse, and he knew that before another day was past she was to bring forth into the world the Son of God. Our happiness, like that of Joseph and Mary, does not depend upon our external circumstances, but on the love that we bear to God in our hearts.

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The Commands of Jesus

FINAL SCENES FROM THE GOSPELS

BY THE REV. FATHER HUBERT, C.P

INDEX

COMMAND I. “GO INTO GALILEE.”

After the Resurrection, Jesus did not dwell with the Apostles, or remain, at any time, very long in their company. On the evening before His death, Jesus had told His Apostles: “After I shall be risen again, I will go before you into Galilee” (Mark XIV 28); and on the Resurrection morning at the Sepulchre, He gave this first Command to the woman : “Go, tell My brethren that they go into Galilee, there they shall see Me.” (Math XXVIII 10).

Accordingly, when the last days of Paschaltide were over, the Apostles and many of the Disciples returned to their homes in Galilee. There, in that province of Galilee, Jesus had laboured longest; there, He was best known; and there also, they should have proof of His Resurrection, see Him, and hear His familiar voice again, before He ascended to His Father.

I. THE APOSTLES RETURN TO GALILEE. -In obedience to the Command of Jesus: “Go into Galilee,” the Apostles left Jerusalem, to return to their home province. Jesus was not with them. They passed along the way, its old familiar landmarks and stopping places so reminiscent of the journeys they had made in company with Jesus.

The old days could never come back again. Everything was changed. What did the future hold in store for them? Could they return again to their fishing boats, and drag their nets through the waters, in monotonous routine, after the tragic events at the death of Jesus, and the thrilling scenes connected with His Resurrection?

We may well believe that there was little conversation, but much deep thought, among the Eleven, as they walked homewards. Homewards! Could home ever be home again to these men, who had been so closely associated with Jesus in His designs, which comprised the salvation of the whole world?

Prayer.

O Jesus, when at times of special devotion, my soul has been thrilled to intense religious fervour, how hard it is to return to the routine of daily toil! But that is a Command from Thee to me. My soul may faint and long for Thy courts, O Lord, and the loveliness of Thy Tabernacles, but the proof of my love lies in the keeping of Thy commandments, in my own station in life. Help me then, O Jesus, to take courage, and do my duty to myself, my neighbour, and to Thee. Assist me to keep Thy commandments, that I may abide in Thy love; as Thou also didst keep Thy Father’s commandments, and to abide in His love.

II. THE APOSTLES GO A-FISHING. -When the Apostles arrived in Galilee, they were short of funds (the common purse had disappeared with Judas) so while they were waiting for Jesus to keep His appointment, they stood one day by the sea of Galilee. There were seven of them together: Peter, James, John, Thomas, Nathaniel, and two others whose names are not recorded. All of those named, with the possible exception of Nathaniel, were expert fishermen.

“ Simon Peter saith to them: I go a-fishing. They say to him: We also come with thee.” So, overhauling one of their long-unused fishing boats, examining their sailing gear, assorting their nets and fishing tackle, they set sail towards evening, for on those sun-dazzled waters, night was the time for fishing. Through the night they trawled through that sea, whose likeliest planes they knew so well; but as happened on the former occasion (Luke V. 4, 5) their efforts proved fruitless; “and that night they caught nothing.” (John XXI. 2, 3).

Prayer.

O Jesus, I am a toiler like Thy Apostles, and my work often goes all wrong. No matter how I try, I can get no results. I try hard enough, and I know my work, and how to do it; but Thou seemest so far away, that I grow disheartened and fretful, and disappointed with failure; and in my discouragement, I am apt to blame others, and even to say hard things to my good friends. But do Thou, O Lord, teach me to realize, that “tribulation worketh patience; and patience, trial; and trial hope; and hope confoundeth not; because the charity of God is poured forth in our hearts by the Holy Ghost, Who is given to us.”

III. JESUS APPEARS: THE MIRACULOUS DRAFT- At dawn the seven Apostles were still trawling an empty net through the waters near the land, when Jesus appeared, standing on the shore. They did not recognise Him at first; like Mary Magdalene at the Sepulchre, and the two disciples at Emmaus, “they knew not that it was Jesus.”

The mysterious Figure spoke to them in friendly and familiar solicitude: “Children, have you any meat?” The expression, Children, was in so frequent use among the people as a token of friendliness, that it did not enlighten the Apostles, and in their wearied condition they failed to recognize the tone of that well-known voice. They replied despondently “No.” It was the curt answer of tired men, weary enough of fruitless labour, without having to admit their failure to an inquisitive stranger.

Jesus understood, and He had come to help them. He said to them: “Cast the net on the right side of the ship; and you shall find. They cast therefore: and now they were not able to draw it, for the multitude of fishes.” (John XXI. 4–6).

Prayer.

O Jesus, Thou comest to us in our troubles, but we are so weary with disappointment, and often fruitless endeavour, that we do not realize that Thou art looking on in sympathy. Some recollection of a sweet gentle inspiration from Thee in the past, comes to us, but we are so tired and peevish that we put it away irritably, and go on nursing our troubles, pitying ourselves, and rejecting the kindly advances of others as an intrusion. In our dejection, O Lord, treat us as good but wayward children. Help us, in kindly pity; and at Thy command we will begin afresh: and with Thy grace, draw good results from our labours.

IV. “IT IS THE LORD” -This miraculous draft of fishes recalled to St. John’s mind, that other miracle of a similar nature, on that same lake, when Jesus had first called him and his companions. Intuitively, John recognised Jesus, and thrilling with wonder, he said to Peter:”It is the Lord.”

When Peter heard this startling announcement, he looked more attentively at the mystic figure of Jesus, and was convinced of its reality. Promptly, Peter reached for his coat, for he had been working naked from the waist up, and girding the coat about him, out of respect for his Master, he cast himself into the sea and came to shore.

St. Chrysostom sees in this episode, a distinction in the individual characters of Peter and John; the former, more ardent; the latter, more sublime; the former, more prompt to action; the latter, more discerning.

“Then the other disciples came in the ship, for they were not far from the land, but as it were two hundred cubits (approximately one hundred yards) dragging the net with fishes.” (John XXI. 7, 8).

Prayer.

O Jesus, when with Thy assistance, our labour has been rewarded with a success we had never expected, nor even hoped for, grant us that true gratitude which impels us at once to recognize Thee in it all, and crying out : “It is the Lord,” draws us to Thee with our thanks.

Grant us a burning zeal, and promptness in fulfilling Thy commands, and a discerning spirit to recognize the sublime dignity of being under the direction and protection of Thine omnipotence.

COMMAND II. “FEED MY LAMBS: FEED MY SHEEP.”

This Command of Jesus was given to Peter, the chief of the Apostles, by the Sea of Galilee. By it, Peter was constituted head of the Church on earth, with Authority to teach and govern all the Pastors and the whole Flock of Christ throughout the world.

But, as love had been the moving cause of the Redemption (“God so loved the world that He sent His only-begotten Son”); and, as Jesus had told the Apostles on the eve of His death; “A New Commandment I give you: That you love one another, as I have loved you” (John XIII 34) and, further, as we cannot truly love one another unless we first love God; so now Jesus required a declaration from Peter, that he loved Him more than did all the others, before He installed him as chief Pastor of His flock, and commanded him: “Feed My, lambs. Feed My sheep.” (John XXI 16, 17).

I. THE FIRE, AND THE FISH. -When the Apostles landed from their boat, “they saw hot coals lying, and a fish laid thereon, and bread.” (John XXI. 9). The Master said to them: “Bring hither of the fishes which you have caught.” It should be understood here, that Jesus did not ask for those fishes in order to add them to the one already being cooked; and context in the Greek version of John XXI. 13 shows that the meal consisted only of the miraculous fish and bread mentioned in the above text. (John XXI . 9)

“Simo n Peter went up and drew the net to land, full of great fishes, one hundred and fifty three. And although there were so many, the net was not broken.” (John XXI. 11): “These fishes that Christ called for are not for Himself. They are a symbolical figure of the souls that the Apostles are to win for Him throughout the world. The meat was supplied entirely by our Lord. It expressed the need of divine concurrence and heavenly graces for the fruitful performance of the duties of mystical fishermen. Without Christ’s help, what would the Apostles have been able to accomplish in spite of all their efforts.” (Fillion. Life of Christ. III. 592).

Prayer.

O Lord, Thou needest not our help, but we need Thine. Thou who hast created and redeemed us, providest also for all our needs; and Thou dost even condescend to permit us to do what we can in Thy service. Thou didst come to cast fire on the earth, and what wilt Thou, but that it be kindled? Thou workest in us, both “to will and accomplish,” and although of ourselves we can do nothing, we can do all things in Thee, Who strengtheneth us. Grant then O benevolent Lord, that we may always earnestly serve Thee, and, with Thy help, accomplish Thy holy Will.

II. “COME AND DINE.” Peter having drawn in the net and fishes, he and the other six Apostles stood on the shore, waiting. Here, they were on familiar ground, and the Master before them as formerly, but they no longer had the old feeling of easy companionship with Him; filled with awe, motionless, they gazed at Jesus, the fire, the cooked fish, and the bread.

“Jesus saith to them : Come and dine. In dazed wonder, they approached, and sat down to that meal, provided, cooked, and served by the Lord. But they ate in silence; for “none of them durst ask Him: Who art Thou? knowing that it was the Lord. (John XVI). They were certain that it was Jesus, but there was something about Him, that withheld them from asking questions.

At this meal, Jesus followed His usual custom; He took the bread and gave to them, and the fish in like manner. But there is no reason for supposing that He Himself partook of it.

Prayer.

O Lord, there are times when we are so filled with wonder at Thy goodness to us, that when we kneel to thank Thee, we find ourselves dumb from the intensity of our feelings; and such silence is indeed a prayer of gratitude.

And it is not alone for many spiritual blessings an our souls, that we have to thank Thee, but also for Thy tender solicitude for our temporal wants and comforts. And yet how seldom we thank Thee for these, even when they appear to be almost miraculously provided for us. O generous Lord, have we ever thanked Thee as much for the things Thou gavest us, as we have complained to Thee afterwards when Thou hast withdrawn them!

III. PETER’S LOVE.-Jesus had a Most important object in His appearance to the Apostles by the Sea of Galilee: He was about to confirm and complete Peter’s installation as Chief Pastor of the Universal Church. But first, Peter must give a public proof of his fitness. Peter had publicly denied his Master, and although Jesus had already forgiven him, He now required of Peter a public confession, not of his fault, but of his love.

“When therefore they had dined, Jesus saith to Simon Peter: Simon, son of John, lovest thou Me more than these?” More than these, more than those who had not denied Him! More than John, who was listening, and whom Jesus loved!

Peter humbly answered:”Yea, Lord, Thou knowest that I love Thee.” But this was not enough. Three times, Peter had denied Jesus, so Jesus persisted with the question, until Peter had three times protested his love. But Peter, not knowing the design of Jesus, “was grieved” by so much questioning, which seemed to imply a doubt of his love, and so his third, answer was: “Lord, Thou knowest all things: Thou knowest that I love Thee.” (John XXL. 15, 16).

Prayer.

O Jesus, Thou hast said: “Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with thy whole heart, and with thy whole soul; and with all thy mind. This is the greatest and first commandment.” This is the first and greatest commandment because if we keep it, our love for Thee will lead us to the observance of all the others, and Thou desirest us to keep Thy commandments out of love for Thee, rather than from fear of Thy punishment. Grant us, therefore, O Lord, a love that is “charity from a pure heart, and a good conscience, and an unfeigned faith,” that we may keep all Thy commandments, for love of Thee.

IV. PETER’S COMMISSION.-After the two first protestations of Peter’s love Jesus had said to him: “Feed My Lambs,” but after the third and final one, Jesus commanded him: “Feed My Sheep.” From this solemn and impressive dialogue, are drawn the dogmatic conclusions regarding the Primacy and Supremacy in Jurisdiction of Peter and his successors in the Papal Chair.

Peter was to feed the whole flock, the Lambs and the Sheep, the parents and the little ones; yea, even the other Pastors, who though Shepherds of a defined area, diocesan, provincial, or natural, are nevertheless, themselves Sheep, under the care and direction of the one supreme Pastor of the whole Church on earth.

Jesus, on this same occasion warned Peter: “Amen, Amen, I say to thee, when thou wast younger, thou didst gird thyself and didst walk where thou wouldst. But when thou shalt be old, thou shalt stretch forth thy hands, and another shall gird thee and lead thee whither thou wouldst not. And this He said, signifying by what death he should glorify God.” (John XXI. 18, 19), The immense responsibility of this commission involved the complete sacrifice of Peter’s personal affections, and freedom, and ended in his martyrdom by crucifixion.

Prayer.

O Jesus, Thou art the Good Shepherd Who laid down His life for His sheep, and didst command Peter and his successors to feed us, Thy lambs and sheep, with sound doctrine, and guard us in morals.

Like sheep we have sometimes gone astray, but Thou and Thy pastors have recovered us and brought us back to the fold.

And may the God of Peace, who raised from the dead the great Pastor, Jesus Christ, fit us in all goodness, that we may do His Will and may He work in us that which is pleasing in His sight, through Jesus Christ, to whom be glory forever and ever. Amen.

COMMAND III “GOING, THEREFORE, TEACH YE ALL NATIONS.”

St. Paul, writing to the Christians in Rome, says: “Faith cometh by hearing; and hearing by the word of Christ.” (Rom. X 17). And to His faithful Disciple, Timothy, whom he trained to be a proficient preacher, he wrote :”Preach the word: be instant in season, out of season: reprove, entreat, rebuke in all patience and doctrine.” (II. Tim. IV. 2).

The Command of Jesus to the Apostles! “Going therefore, Teach ye all nations” (Math, XXV III. 19), places also on the faithful, an obligation of hearing the teaching of the preachers, whose office it is to teach the doctrines of Jesus. “For we preach,” said St. Paul, “not ourselves, but Jesus Christ our Lord: and ourselves your servants through Jesus. For God, Who commanded the light to shine out of darkness, hath shined in our hearts, to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God, in the face of Christ Jesus.” (II Cor. IV. 5, 6).

I. ON THE GALILEAN MOUNTAIN—Jesus had promised on the Resurrection morn, that He would manifest Himself to His brethren in Galilee. Accordingly, “the eleven disciples went into Galilee, unto the mountain where Jesus had appointed them.” (Math. XXVIII. 16).

Here assembled, not only the Eleven, but a large number of those who believed in the Resurrection. They had come from Jerusalem, Judea, and Galilee, because the Lord’s message had been addressed to the whole body of disciples: “Go, tell My brethren that they go into Galilee. There they shall see Me.” (Math. XXVIII. 10). It is most probable that this manifestation on the mountain is the one alluded by St. Paul, I Cor. XV. 6: “Then was He seen by more the five hundred brethren at once: of whom many remain until this present, and some are fallen asleep.”

St. Matthew mentions only the Eleven, because they were the chief persons invited, and it was to them specially, that Jesus was about to give His very grave Command. The others were there, that they might be witnesses.

Prayer.

O Jesus, with what forethought Thou hast arranged for the application of Thy redemption to each individual soul! Having given Thy commission to the Apostles, Thou now assemblest them in presence of the people, that both Shepherds and Flock may hear Thy command; the pastors, to execute it; the people, to understand that they must listen to and obey the pastors Thou hast appointed to teach and govern them. We admire the methodical system with which Thou best provided for us to benefit fully by Thy copious Redemption. Oh, fill us with humble submission and reverent obedience to our pastors; and endow our pastors with understanding and fortitude to direct us in the way of Thy commands.

II. SOME DOUBTERS. -When the eleven Apostles and the large congregation of disciples from Jerusalem, Judea and Galilee were assembled on the mountain in response to the command of Jesus, He appeared suddenly, as was His wont now, since His resurrection.

Immediately on seeing Him, the Eleven, and most of the disciples, fell down and adored Him; “but some doubted.” (XXV.III. 17). These doubters could not have been any of the Eleven, nor any of the women who had seen Jesus at the Sepulchre, nor any of the disciples who had seen Him in Jerusalem, they would be of those, who, as yet, had only heard the reports of the Resurrection, and had come to hear and see for themselves.

Jesus did not give any attention to the doubters; He knew that, given time, their own judgment, sifting the evidence, would lead them to the certainly of truth. His object here was to give the Apostles their world-wide commission; the disciples and doubters were invited only to be witnesses to the fact, and to testify later to the command which Jesus now gave to the Eleven.

Prayer.

O all-wise and provident Lord Jesus, Thou knowest that the wise of heart seek to acquire knowledge, and desire instruction; and that there are many expounders of attractive but unsound doctrines, to lead the unwary astray. Grant then, that when we read or hear condemnation of our Catholic doctrine or practice and when difficulties are presented to us, we may seek enlightenment from Catholic sources; and by the reading of authorized Catholic books, and the hearing of catechetical instructions in Church, have our doubts dispelled and our faith strengthened.

Open, O Lord, the mouths of Thy teachers, and the ears of Thy people, that being well instructed in our Faith, we may never doubt that the true guide to salvation is the Catholic Church.

III. “TEACH YE ALL NATION’S.”-While all those congregated on the Galilean mountain were attentively regarding Him, “Jesus coming spoke to them, saying: All power is given to Me in heaven and on earth. (Math. XXVIII. 18). These words addressed by Jesus to the entire concourse of people, were spoken by Him, not as the Son of God, for as such He had all power in Himself and no more could be given Him; but as Man, He had merited by His sufferings and death, this plenitude of power given Him.

In the exercise of this authority, Jesus now gave this command to His Apostles: “Going, therefore, teach ye all nations: baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost. Teaching them to observe all things whatsoever I have commanded you. And behold I am with you all days, even to the consummation of the world.” (Math. XXVIII. 19,20).

Note here the inexhaustible contents of this Command; He Who issues it has “all power”; its subject is “all things,” it is directed to “all nations”; and it is to continue for “all days.’’

Prayer.

O Jesus, co-equal Son of the Omnipotent Father, and Son, Divine and Human, of the Blessed Virgin, Thou didst merit, in Thy humanity, all the extraordinary power given to Thee; and Thou didst use it to send Thine Apostles with delegated power to teach all nations all that Thou hast commanded; and Thou hast promised to remain with them all days, even to the consummation of the world.

Grant us then, O Lord, to listen carefully to the teaching of our pastors, and to observe Thy Commands in the spirit and meaning which Thou hast enlightened Thy Church to explain to us. And be Thou always with us, strengthening us all with Thy power, that we may always keep Thy commandments in all their entirety.

IV. FAITH AND BAPTISM.- To St. Mathew’s account of the Command of Jesus to the Apostles to go teach all nations and baptize them, St. Mark adds the effects which will follow on the hearers: “He that believeth and is baptized shall be saved: but he that believeth not shall be condemned.” (Mark XVI 16).

This believing does not mean a simple trust in Christ for personal salvation, but a living faith, which not only believes the revealed truths taught by Christ, but is actuated by charity to do good works. St. James in his Epistle, says: “‘Be ye doers of the word and not hearers only, deceiving your own selves.” (James I. 22).

While Baptism is a condition of salvation, it does not always require a belief in it; for just as infants are born in original sin without any fault of their own, so Baptism cleanses them without any belief of their own.

God also grants the justifying grace of Baptism to everyone who, believing the necessary Christian Truths, sincerely desires Baptism and does his best to procure it, but who dies before he can receive it. This is called Baptism of Desire.

Prayer.

O God, I believe in Thee, and all Thy Church doth teach because Thou hast said it, and Thy word is true. But I know that “if I should have all faith, so that I could remove mountains, and have no charity, it profiteth me nothing,” for even “the devils believe and tremble.”

I believe also that “even as the body without the spirit is dead, so also faith without good weeks is dead. For not the hearers of the law are just before God, but the doers of the law shall be justified.”

Grant us then, O Lord, that faith which worketh through charity.”And this the charity of God, that we keep His commandments.” And grant us, “a constant mutual charity among ourselves, for charity covereth a multitude of sins.”

COMMAND IV. “WAIT FOR THE PROMISE OF THE FATHER.”

That the teaching and preaching of the Apostles should be authoritative, accurate, and convincing, Jesus now”opened their understanding that they might understand the scriptures.” (Luke XXIV. 45). “And eating together with them, He commanded them that they should not depart from Jerusalem, but should wait for the promise of the Father, which you have heard (saith He) by My mouth.” (Acts I. 4).

This promise, Jesus had made to the Apostles on the night of the Eucharistic Supper: “I will not leave you orphans . . . I will ask the Father, and He shall give you another Paraclete (this word means Comforter or Adviser) that He may abide with you forever . . . But the Paraclete, the Holy Ghost, Whom the Father will send in My name, He will teach you all things and bring all things to your mind, whatsoever I shall have said to you.” (John XIV. 18, 16, 26).

I. BACK AGAIN IN THE SUPPER ROOM—For forty days after the Resurrection, Jesus comforted and instructed His disciples. At His direction they left Galilee and returned again to Jerusalem. Here, a few hours before His Ascension, He assembled the Apostles (according to tradition in the Supper Room) to give them His final instructions, and to bid them farewell. For the last time, He took His place at the table consecrated by the Eucharistic Banquet.

The surroundings were full of memories: The Washing of the Feet; Peter’s protest; Judas, now in a suicide’s grave; the Holy Eucharist; Christ’s very solemn words; their own defection afterwards in the hours of His humiliation; ultimate triumph of Jesus, which at first, they could not believe.

And now they were sitting at table, with Jesus in human form, and for the last time. He was not indeed leaving them, but in future they should see Him only with the eyes of faith. Now, “eating together with them” (Acts I. 4,) Jesus recalled to their memory, words He had spoken before, and instructed them for their future direction.

Prayer.

O Lord, I am a sojourner on the earth; hide not Thy commandments from me. Direct my steps according to Thy word, and let not iniquity have dominion over me. Show, O Lord, Thy way to me, and teach me Thy paths. Direct me in Thy truth and teach me; and Thou art God my Saviour, and on Thee have I waited all the day long. Teach me Thy goodness and discipline and knowledge; for I have believed Thy commandments.

Direct, O Lord, we beseech Thee, our actions by Thy holy inspirations, and carry them on by Thy gracious assistance, that every prayer and work of ours may always begin from Thee, and by Thee be happily ended. Through Jesus Christ our Lord.

II FULFILMENT OF THE PROPHECIES—In His final disclosure to the Apostles assembled in Jerusalem, Jesus recalled to their memory how often He had impressed upon them that all the Old Testament prophecies concerning Him should be fulfilled. “He said to them: These are the words which I spoke to you while I was yet with you, that all things must needs be fulfilled which are written in the law of Moses and in the prophets and in the Psalms, concerning me.” (Luke XXIV. 44).

The Law, the Prophets, and the Psalms; these three great divisions of the Old Testament contain all the outstanding prophecies about the Messiah. Jesus had used these scriptures often to prove that He was sent by God, and in Himself God. He instructed from them, and by them confirmed His doctrines; He vindicated them from the calumnies of objector; He quoted them against Sadducees and Pharisees and against Satan himself when he dared to tempt Him. And now in His last discourse, He expends them to the Apostles.

Prayer.

O Lord Jesus Christ, Who for the perpetual promotion of Thy faithful people, didst instruct Thy Apostles on the early prophecies and their fulfilment in Thee; we accept, without question, the interpretation of them which Thou transmittest to us, through the Apostles.

St. Peter testified that he himself heard the Father’s voice from heaven, (II. Pet. I. 17), declaring of Thee:”This is my beloved Son in Whom I am well pleased. Hear ye Him.” And as Thou hast said to Thy Apostles: “He that heareth you, heareth me,” grant that we may always listen with humble attention and reverent minds, to the explanation of Thy words and the lessons drawn from them, by our pastors, Thy authorised teachers.

III. OPENING THEIR UNDERSTANDING—Our Divine Lord commanded the Apostles to teach all nations, and as the Scriptures are the very foundation of that teaching, Jesus now “opened their understanding, that they might understand the Scriptures.” (Luke XXIV. 45).

St. Peter warns us of the danger of using the Scriptures without understanding them. Referring specially to the Epistles of St. Paul, he writes:”In which are certain things hard to understand, which the unlearned and the unstable wrest, as they do also the other Scriptures, to their own destruction.” (II. Peter III. 16)

Jesus, for the preservation of the faithful, opened the understanding of the Apostles, who were to be the future teachers of His doctrines as contained in Holy Scripture; and it follows that, for the explanation of the true meaning of these Scriptures, the successors of the Apostles also have their understanding opened, to interpret with authority the word of God contained therein. Pope Leo XIII, in his Encyclical “Providentissimus Deus” (18th November, 1893), urges upon the laity, as well as on the clergy, the study of Scripture under specified safeguards. This Encyclical is inserted as a preface in our Bibles published since, and should be read carefully by all who study the Scriptures.

Prayer.

“Open my understanding, O Lord, and I will consider the wondrous things of Thy law. Thy testimonies are justice forever; give me understanding, and I shall live; and I will search Thy law; and I will keep it with my whole heart.” (II. Peter I. 19, 20).

St. Peter writes of the Apostles:”We have the more firm prophetical word; whereunto you do well to attend . . . Understanding this first: That no prophecy of Scripture is made by private interpretation.” We pray Thee, therefore, O Lord, to confirm us in humble obedience, that while we read the Scriptures, we may always submit our judgment respectfully to the authorised interpretation of Holy Church.

IV. THE PROMISE OF THE PARACLETE—While Jesus was at table with the Apostles, “eating together with them, He commanded them that they should not depart from Jerusalem, but should wait for the promise of the Father, which you have heard (saith He) by My mouth.” (Acts I. 4). Now that He was about to leave them, Jesus recalled to their memory the assurance He had given them, on the night of the Eucharistic Supper “I will ask the Father; and He shall give you another Paraclete, that He may abide with you forever: the Spirit of truth, Whom the world cannot receive, because it seeth Him not, nor knoweth Him. But you shall know Him; because He shall abide with you and shall be in you.” (John XIV. 16, 17).

Continuing, the same discourse, Jesus had assured them “When He, the Spirit of Truth, is come, He will teach you all truth. For He shall not speak of Hiimself; but what things soever He shall hear, He shall speak. And the things that are to come, He shall shew you.” (John XVI. 13).

Prayer.

O God, Who by Baptism, regenerated us, that the Holy Ghost might dwell within us, and, by Confirmation, didst strengthen our souls with a fuller measure of His gifts; keep us always in the state of grace, that we may be worthy temples of the Holy Ghost, and glorify and bear God in our body.

Come, O Holy Ghost, take possession of our hearts, and kindle within them the fire of Thy love. Send forth Thy spirit, O Lord, and they shall be created, and Thou shalt renew the face of the earth. O God, Who, by the light of the Holy Ghost doth instruct the hearts of the faithful, grant that we may be always truly wise, love what is right in all things, and ever rejoice in His holy consolations, thorough Jesus Christ our Lord.

COMMAND V. “YOU SHALL BE WITNESSES UNTO ME.”

Jesus, having opened the understanding of the Apostles, led them out of the Supper Room and walked towards the

Mount of Olives. On the way, He said to them: “You shall be witnesses unto Me.” Acts I. 8). When the appointed time came, the Apostles, in obedience to this Command, went forth and preached penance and the remission of sins, in the name of Jesus, unto all nations, beginning at Jerusalem.

St. Peter, addressing the converts at Ceasarea, declared: “ We are witnesses of all these things that He did in the land of the Jews and in Jerusalem, Whom they killed, hanging Him upon a tree. Him God raised up the third day, and gave Him to be made manifest. Not to all the people, but to witnesses preordained by God, even to us, who did eat and drink with Him, after He arose again from the dead. And He commanded us to preach to the people, and to testify that it is He Who was appointed by God, to be Judge of the living and of the dead.” (Acts X. 39, 42).

I. ON THE WAY TO OLIVET—On the way to the Mount of Olives, the Apostles accompanied Jesus, and we may believe they were followed by some disciples and the holy women, among whom would surely be the Blessed Mother of Jesus, since she was with the Apostles in the Supper Room on their return. (Acts I.14).

The Apostles, on the way, seem to have been entertaining bright dreams of earthly glory; thinking, perhaps, of the twelve thrones, Jesus had once promised them, and on which they were to sit and judge the twelve tribes of Israel; for now: “They therefore who had come together asked Him, saying: Lord, wilt Thou at this time restore again the Kingdom of Israel? But He said to them: It is not for you to know the times or moments, which the Father hath put in His own power.” (Acts I. 6, 7). Thus Jesus checked, with gentle charity, the ever-surging ambitions of His children. But, lest their ardour should be cooled by this reproof, He continued:”But you shall receive the power of the Holy Ghost coming upon you, and you shall be witnesses unto Me in Jerusalem, and in all Judea and Samaria, and even to the uttermost parts of the earth.” (Acts I. 8).

Prayer.

O Jesus, Thou didst hold out, at first, great inducements to encourage Thy disciples; and even now, Thou dost not condemn their ambition, but directest it, by unselfish motives, to higher ends. When the Apostles came really to understand Thee, they laboured zealously, not for worldly advancement, but for the eternal reward in the Kingdom of heaven.

O grant, that while we work and suffer here, as Thou hast appointed us, we may always strive to merit that kingdom prepared for us from the foundation of the world, and which shall endure forever, world without end. Amen.

II. BLESSING THE APOSTLES AND DISCIPLES—Jesus, with His company, now proceeded up the Mount of Olives. St. Luke says: “He led them out as far as Bethania.” (XXIV. 50). This means, as far as the upper boundary of the suburbs of the town. Bethany itself was situated halfway down the farther side of the Mount. Jesus had often passed through it on other journeys, and some of His devoted friends dwelt there, but the best of them would be in His company now; so there could be no reason for Him going down the town, and coming back up again.

On the top of the Mount (tradition has preserved the site, and erected a monument on it) Jesus bade a last brief farewell to the Apostles and the friends who had shared in the joys and sorrows of His earthly life. As yet they knew not what the future held in store for them; but Jesus knew the void that the departure of His visible and tangible presence would make in their lives; and to sustain them against depression, “lifting up His hands, He blessed them.” (Luke XXIV. 50).

Prayer.

Blessed, O Lord, were they who saw Thee face to face, and heard Thy voice, and received the blessing under Thy pierced and glorified hands. And blessed are we, who have not seen, and have believed. Blessed are the poor in spirit, and the meek, and they that mourn, and they that hunger and thirst after justice; and blessed are the merciful, and the clean of heart, and the peacemakers, and they that suffer persecution for justice’ sake; for their reward is very great in heaven.

“Blessed be the God and Father of Our Lord Jesus Christ, Who, hath blessed us with spiritual blessings in heavenly places in Christ.”

“Blessed are those servants, whom the Lord when He cometh shall find watching . . . Be ye therefore ready, for at what hour you think not, the Son of Man will come.”

III. THE ASCENSION—“And came to pass, whilst Jesus blessed them, He departed from them.” (Luke XXIV. 51) “while they looked on, He was raised up; and a cloud received Him out of their sight.” (Acts I. 9). The Apostles and Disciples stood awe-stricken, filled with glad wonder, now firmly convinced of the Divinity of Jesus.

“And while they were beholding Him going up to heaven, behold two men stood by them in white garments. Who also said: Ye men of Galilee, why stand you looking up to heaven? This Jesus, Who is taken up from you into heaven, shall so come as you have seen Him going into heaven.” (Acts I. 10, 11).

As to His coming again, and when that might be, they probably gave little thought just then. His last words and act had been a Divine blessing to cheer and sustain them; and that blessing would remain with them, even in times of such stress that they might not think of it; and it would strengthen them to endure adversity, and carry on successfully the work; He had begun and now confided to them.

Prayer.

O triumphant Jesus, we rejoice with Thee in Thy glorious Ascension, and we are indeed glad, because Thou art with the Father, Who loves Thee, and Whom Thou lovest. Our hearts are not troubled, nor are we afraid. We know that Thou hast gone to prepare a place for us in Thy Father’s house, in which there are many mansions, and that Thou wilt come again and take us to Thyself, that where Thou art we also may be with Thee.

We understand, O Lord, that we are yet on trial here, and that we must encounter, temptation, and endure disappointment, and suffer pain, and be made sorrowful; but Thou wilt come again and turn our sorrow into joy; and our heart shall rejoice, and our joy no man shall take from us.

IV. ADORATION AND GREAT JOY—When Jesus had vanished from their sight, and the angels had told them they need no longer stand looking up to heaven, the Apostles and Disciples, adoring, went back into Jerusalem with great joy.” (Luke XXIV. 52). They returned to the house wherein they had been accustomed to meet, and “went up into an upper room,” the abode of Peter, and the other Apostles. Here “all these were persevering with one mind in prayer, with the women and Mary, the Mother of Jesus.” (Acts I. 13, 14).

Here they waited, as Jesus had commanded them, until they should be endowed with power from on high. And their waiting was with joy, remembering the words of Jesus: “I will not leave you orphans; I will come to you. Yet a little while and the world seeth Me no more. But you see Me; because I live, and you shall live. In that day you shall know that I am in the Father; and you in Me, and I in you. He that hath My commandments and keepeth them; he it is that loveth Me. And he that loveth Me shall be loved of My Father.” (John XIV. 18, 21).

Prayer.

O Jesus, thou hast said that as the Father hath loved Thee, Thou also hast loved us. Grant that we may always abide in Thy love. Thou hast said further: “If you keep My commandments you shall abide in My love. These things I have spoken to you, that My joy may be in you, and your joy may be fulfilled.”

Help us, O Lord, to keep Thy commandments, all the days of our waiting here, that our joy may be filled in eternity, when we all see Thee face to face, and rejoice in the everlasting possession of Thy love. Amen.

CONCLUSION

Jesus entered “into heaven itself, that He may appear now in the presence of God for us.” (Heb. IX 24).”For the suffering of death” He was “crowned with glory and honour.” (Heb. 11. 9). And in heaven, He is “always living to make intercession for us.” (Heb. VII. 25).

“He humbled Himself, becoming obedient unto death, even to the death of the cross. For which cause, God also hath exalted Him and hath given Him a name which is above all names: That in the name of Jesus every knee should bow; of those that are in heaven, on earth, and under the earth: And that every tongue should confess that the Lord Jesus Christ is in the glory of God the Father.” (Phil. II. 8, 11).

And therefore we also having so great a cloud of witnesses over our head, laying, aside every weight and sin which surrounds us, let us run by patience to the fight proposed to us. Looking on Jesus, the author and finisher of faith, Who, having joy set before Him, endured the cross, despising the shame, and now sitteth on the right hand of the throne of God” (Heb. XII. 1, 2).

Let us then, having confidence in Jesus, Who has prayed, and still prays for us: “Father, I will that where I am, they also whom Thou hast given Me may be with Me: that they may see My glory which Thou hast given Me, because Thou hast loved Me before the creation of the world.” (John XVII. 24).

The Communist Control of The Mind

BY J. GEORGE ZUBRZYCKI

INDEX

Much has been written of the philosophy of Communism. Many accounts of bloodshed and brutality are on record associated with revolution. This pamphlet deals with another aspect altogether. The way effective use can be made of the war of ideas.

THE COMMUNIST CONTROL OF THE MIND

The international Communist movement is committed to world revolution. To attain this most fundamental objective the Communists adopt a variety of weapons: political, military and psychological. The last weapon is basic to the first two, for the Communists insist that a political or military conquest will not be complete unless it is accompanied by the conquest of the mind.

To establish absolute control of the mind the Communists pursue two related tasks. First, in the words of Stalin, they aim at “organizing, mobilizing and transforming” the world of ideas ranging from religious beliefs to the sciences and arts. But they do not stop at the transformation of the intellectual outlook alone. Their second aim is to remould man’s total personality, to redirect the functioning of the will, and to channel the emotions into direction of value of the Party.

Everything that the Communists do in the time of war and peace, rests on the fundamental assumptions relating to the control of the mind and the total personality. Unless this point is completely understood it becomes impossible to perceive that what goes on in the Moscow for Training of Party Cadres, a Chinese village commune, a secret Party cell in an American city or in a POW camp in Korea- is exactly the same thing.

The object of this paper is to answer three basic questions: first, why do the Communists attempt thought control? Second, how do they do it? Third, who are the people who are particularly susceptible to the Communist thought control?

1. WHY DO THE COMMUNISTS CONTROL THOUGHT?

The Communists believe that man can be refashioned in a new image, since Communist society will be one in which the enslaving subordination of the individual to the division of labour and therefore also the antithesis between mental and physical labour has become not only a means of life but life’s prime want . . . the productive forces have also increased with the all-round development of the individual . . . all the springs of co-operative wealth flow more abundantly . . . and society inscribes on its banners: From each according to his ability, to each according to his needs!

This vision, seen by Marx in 1875 implies a radical change in human nature. But how is it to be brought about? Marxism gives a paradoxical answer. For the change in human nature is seen both as a consequence and as a condition of the alternation of the economic basis of society.

On the one hand there is the original determinist tradition of Marx historical materialism: on this showing, man is conditioned by his social environment and the new society will produce the new man as the old produced the old. On the other hand, as Lenin clearly saw, the new society presupposes the new man, who must therefore, it would seem, be created artificially. The apparatus of Communist-controlled education and thought control has this creation as its ultimate ostensible purpose. But the very existence of the apparatus for mass indoctrination and thought control has involved a substantial shift in Marxist theory; for it implies that the Communist leaders in the Soviet Union and all over the world attribute great importance to the influence of ideas and ideology in the life of man.

The shift in theory involved new emphasis on religious, political and social ideologies—or (as Marx called them) “forms of consciousness.” All such ideas, according to Marx were part of the “superstructure” of society which in turn was determined by the “base” consisting of economic relationships. “The economic structure of society,” wrote Marx in the Preface to the Critique of Political Economy, “is the real foundation on which legal and political superstructures arise and to which definite forms of social consciousness correspond. The mode of production of material life conditions the general character of the social, political and spiritual process of life.”

It was Lenin who discovered that political activity involves the use of ideology and that, consequently, the superstructure is not necessarily of secondary importance in the Marxist scheme of historical materialism. In 1917, shortly before the Bolshevik seizure of power, Lenin wrote:

“Ideas become a force when they get hold of the masses. And particularly now, when the Bolsheviks . . . have embodied in their policy the ideas which move the innumerable toiling masses in the whole world.”

These remarks by Lenin, suggesting a definite positive role for ideas were given a new twist by Stalin who distinguished between old social ideas “which hamper the development, the progress of society” and the new “advanced” ideas which “facilitate the development, the progress of society.” These new ideas according to Stalin become a most potent force which facilitates the carrying out of the new tasks set by the development of the material life of society, a force which facilitates the progress of society. It is precisely here that the tremendous organizing, mobilizing and transforming value of new ideas, new theories, new political views and new political institutions manifests itself.

“Organizing, mobilizing and transforming”: this description (which Stalin repeated several times) of the role of the superstructure represented a considerable departure from the original spirit of Marxism. It is not surprising that the only test from Marx which Stalin found to support it was the familiar Obiter dictum: “Theory becomes a material force as soon as it has gripped the masses.”

No significant revision of the theory of base and superstructure has taken place since these statements: in spite of all the developments in other fields since Stalin’s death, they continue to provide the basis for the official line on the subject. The crucial part played by religion, political ideologies, literature, Press and such academic disciplines as philosophy, economics and history in what the official Soviet Short Philosophical Dictionary (1955) describes as “the struggle with survivals of Capitalism in the minds of men” is seen especially in the countries that have recently fallen under Communist domination. North Vietnam and Cuba provide examples of societies in which control of thought is the most important objective of the Communist leaders. They realize that in the long run they will not succeed unless they “educate the toiling masses in the spirit of Communism.” In plain language this means the most vigorous mobilization not only of manpower and natural resources but of thought itself.

2. THE USE OF SUBVERSIVE TECHNIQUES IN THE MOULDING OF COMMUNIST MENTALITY

Certain techniques have been perfected by Marxist-Leninists to win over men’s minds and, in Communist jargon, conquer the masses. These techniques involve the utilization of man’s fundamental instincts and of conditioned reflexes.

(A) THE UTILIZATION OF INSTINCTS

As materialistic psychologists see the human spirit merely as a product of matter, they approach the problem of the conquest of the masses on the physiological and neurological level. Hence, they reduce the ‘psychic’ motivations of man to three fundamental instincts- or “pulsations”- the aggressive, the nutritive, and the parental. Communist indoctrination and thought control at all levels and in all situations will thus aim first and foremost at rousing these “pulsations” and making them operate as desired in order to remould man’s will and total personality.

The aggressive “pulsation,” an interest towards domination, must be roused by confronting the masses with the real or alleged injustices which scandalize them to the depths of their conscience. Hence, according to circumstances it will be the “reactionaries,” foreigners, whites, the Army or the Church which will be accused of the most abominable crimes. The aggressive instinct will then operate in support of “justice”- that is, in a manner hostile to the institution which is to be destroyed.

The nutritive pulsation is no less violent. It is bound up with the instinct of self-preservation. Propaganda and advertising can appeal to it. The Communist slogan at the French General Elections of 1936 which elected the Popular Front Government, was summed up in three words: “Bread, Peace, Liberty.” The first word struck home at the psychology of the appetites. Every time passers-by saw the word “Bread” on the boardings or every time the crowds chanted the slogan, something of a pleasure of eating a kind of subconscious anticipation of the attraction of food was organically identified with support of the Communist election programme.

Finally, the Communists utilize the parental “pulsation.” This is concerned with the instinct for the preservation of the species which is more precociously developed in women than in men. “Peace” propaganda in the Marxist sense is often associated with posters depicting children beside the corpses of their parents who have been killed in bombing raids.

(b) The Utilization of conditioned reflexes, may, of itself, not be contrary to human dignity. The teaching of the multiplication table or of piano finger exercises for example, results from the conditioning of the reflexes. The characteristic of subversive technique is not the utilization of conditioned reflexes but making them operate against nature.

This is the fundamental aim of Marxist-Leninist method. It consists in acting on men’s bodies and appetites to obtain a conditioning of thought which prevents the force of truth from working on the intelligence.

The experience of the American POW’s in Korea, the success of the Communist “Peace” movement and other “front” organizations in many uncommitted countries are examples of whole groups that have been thus conditioned. They have, at one time or another, registered an immediate and quasi-automatic equivalence between religion and exploitation, Communism and peace, conflicts and progress.

The essential element of the psychological aggression which is being forever waged against our societies resides in the process by which Communism substitutes, in place of the logic of intelligence and knowledge, an artificial logic which is conducive to mental attitudes that lead the indoctrinated to adopt the appropriate Communist reaction to all problems as they arise.

An anecdote which is utilized by the most classical Communist teaching makes it possible to understand how Marxist-Leninist technique operates men’s passions and appetites almost inescapably for the furtherance of error and deceit.

The following problem is set in Communist training schools as an exercise: “How can one succeed in making a cat eat pepper?” The first answer is to hold the cat’s mouth open by force. The answer is wrong- for the acquiescence of the cat is lacking. The second answer is to hide the pepper in a fish. This is also wrong, for the cat will spit out the fish when it discovers the pepper.

The Marxist-Leninist reply is as follows; one must scatter the pepper on the cat’s usual rug. When the cat lies on the pepper to sleep it will be made uncomfortable and burned, and as a result will begin licking itself to alleviate the burning.

The result thus achieved is that:

(1) the cat eats

(2) of its own free will

(3) (which has been completely conditioned)

(4) the pepper which it detests in the natural course of things.

The cat has not seen or felt in any way that some outside will was impelling it to an act contrary to its nature. So it performs that act spontaneously and naturally- when it has been conditioned.

This example is profoundly significant. The fact that it concerns an animal is perfectly in pattern, for the psychosocial action of Communism introduces a new logic of behaviour not at the intellectual level but at the physiological level of the nervous circuits.

In the same way (once they are conditioned) a Catholic will oppose the Pope, the Bishops and the unity of the Church because of his Catholicism; citizens will oppose the common good of their country from a sense of citizenship; militant labour unionists will oppose social reforms from a desire of social progress.

And thus we see Christians who habitually defend the actions of persecutors of the Church; prisoners of war who believe that for patriotic reasons they should denounce their country as “imperialist aggressor”; workers who habitually support the systematic aggravation of social conflicts and men who in the name of social justice refuse to reveal or seek to conceal the existence of a slave world in the USSR. And so “the cat eats the pepper” and the Communist psychological warfare wins battle after battle without the losers being aware of the fact.

The psycho-social action of Communism operates either at the individual level (brain washing) or at the collective level (propaganda, utilization of “pulsations,” disintegration of enemy morale). It employs terror, threats, promises, but only as a powerful auxiliary element and not as the main constituent of its method. We have not yet realized the true nature of Communism if we blind ourselves to the classical methods of psycho-social strategy which it uses.

3. SUSCEPTIBILITY TO COMMUNISM

Not all the people exposed to Communist thought control are equally susceptible to the ideology of MarxismLeninism or become collaborators and fellow travellers. When we speak of susceptibility in this context we do not necessarily mean complete acceptance and espousal of Communism. To serve the world Communist movement a person need not be a member of the Party. A “fellow traveller” in the ranks of a democratic political party or a labour union, a prisoner of war who broadcasts peace appeals to his country or a college student who joins an organization that pledges itself to promote unconditional nuclear disarmament by the United States- are performing vital duties in the furtherance of the Communist cause without necessarily embracing the doctrines of Communism.

In many situations amongst the people who, over a period of time, are exposed to the same kind of thoughtconditioning, some become millitant collaborators or even Party members while others successfully resist the appeals of Communism. Why is it for example that the Polish and Hungarian writers and intellectuals were in the forefront of revolt that swept Eastern Europe in 1956? Why did Boris Pasternak write Dr. Zhivago? It could be argued that these intellectuals would become corrupted by the insidious methods which the Communist masters of Poland, Hungary, and Russia have used to capture the minds of the people. Yet, the writers, the journalists, the scholars resisted and maintained their critical faculties intact and ready to challenge Communism. Similarly, why did none of the Turkish and only an insignificant proportion of the British, the American Marine Corps and Air Force POW’s collaborate with their captors in Korea while one of every three members of the United States Army was guilty of some sort of collaboration? And yet the treatment afforded to all groups of prisoners in Korea was about equal and the horrible conditions under which they lived did not differ substantially from one camp to another.

In our search for factors that explain why some people can successfully resist the onslaught of their mind while others surrender, allow their personality to be moulded according to the needs of the Party or even voluntarily espouse Communism- we must turn to psycho-social characteristics that account for the different levels and types of susceptibility.

The example of the intellectuals in Eastern Europe suggests that a conscious rejection of Marxism-Leninism as a scientific method is a key to successful resistance. One of the positive features of Communist policy in Eastern Europe under Communist rule has been that, since 1945, opportunities of education for children of workers and peasants have been greatly extended in comparison with the pre-war regimes. The Communists hoped that this new intellectual elite, of worker and peasant origin, would be a strong support for their regime, would act as the brains of the totalitarian system. But their hopes were disappointed. The workers’ and peasants’ children made good use of their education and thought for themselves. In spite of a powerful apparatus that was set up to indoctrinate them, they were not deceived by official hypocrisy, they rebelled against the crushing of critical thought the disarrangement of their national cultures and the abject adulation of all things Soviet. They rejected the new regime and became the most active element in resistance of it.

In Russia, Pasternak, perhaps the most important literary figure to emerge during soviet rule, succeeded in preserving his integrity, independence, and reputation even during the worst periods of Stalinist rule. And when he was finally forced to renounce the Nobel Prize he had the courage to say this in an interview with the British newspaper Daily Mail on October 24, 1958: “Actually the demands of the hierarchy are very slight. There is only one thing they really want. You should hate what you like and love what you abhor.”

The experience of the American POW’s in Korea points to the sociological factors at work. The units of the Army that had relatively large number of collaborators in their midst and those that suffered considerable losses through illness and death, were the ones where there was little or no semblance of internal discipline and solidarity. These included the very young, many relatively new recruits, the under-trained, and probably found among them would be those who had little or no solid value or religious orientation. The Communists of course, encourage the chaos and the quarrels among the wounded, the sick, the naive, the ill-formed, and the ideologically unstable. The breakdown of discipline and the disintegration of social controls in whole units enabled them to single out the men who lost all self respect and were therefore ready to be moulded to the design of their captors. By contrast those who successfully resisted, like the Marines and the Air Force prisoners, together with the Turkish and the British soldiers, were not only better prepared to exist without the daily comforts to which an average American infantryman had become accustomed. As the subsequent investigations revealed these prisoners never ceased to think of themselves as members of a military organization. Although their actual units might have disintegrated they continued to act as if the social controls of their battalions, companies and squadrons were maintained. Because their chain of command and discipline remained unbroken—they were able to present a completely united front to pressure of indoctrination.

CONCLUSION

The foregoing analysis of Communist thought control has barely touched on two important types of susceptability to Communism, namely the neurotic and the ideological types. It is not denied here that the feelings of confusion, disturbances of personal relationships occurring in conjunction with certain moral and intellectual patterns, as much as real or perceived ideological interests, may account for the decision to espouse the cause of Communism. These types of susceptability are important in situations other than the ones discussed in this paper. Both the neurotic and the ideological susceptability have to be taken into account in an analysis of membership of the Communist Party in say, Italy or France. These factors, however, play a lesser part in the situations of stress experienced by an individual who is physically present in a communist country.

The aim of the Communists to remould not only the intellectual outlook but the total personality is, however, identical on both sides of the Iron Curtain.

Bibliography.

Almond, Gabriel, The Appeals of Communism, Princeton, Princeton University Press, 1954. Conquest Robert, Courage of Genius: The Pasternak Affair, London, Collins, 1961.

Kinkead, Eugene, Why They Collaborated, London, Longmans, 1960.

Marks, K. and Engels, F., Selected Works,

London, Lawrence and Wishart, 1950. Meyer, Frank S., The Moulding of Communists, New York, Harcourt,

Brace, and Co., 1961.

Milosz, Czeslaw, The Captive Mind, New York, Knopf, 1953.

Sargant, William, Battle of the Mind, London, Penguin Books, 1962.

Hunter, E., Brainwashing in Red China, Vanguard Press, New York.

Lifton, Robert, J., Thought Reform and the Psychology of Totalism, Gollancz.

Brown, J. A. C., Techniques of Persuasion, Penguin Books.

Nihil Obstat:

BERNARD O’CONNOR, Diocesan Censor.

Imprimatur:

JUSTIN D. SIMONDS, Archbishop of Melbourne.

3/3/1967

The writer, Mr. J. Zubrzycki is the Professorial Fellow in Sociology at the Research School of Social Science, Australian National

University, Canberra.

********

The Confessional: Its Effect On Society

BY THE VERY REV. THOMAS N. BURKE

INDEX

(A LECTURE DELIVERED AT ST. JOSEPH’S CHURCH, BROOKLYN, ON SUNDAY, MAY 5TH, 1872)

DEARLY BELOVED BRETHREN: Amongst the things that were prophesied concerning our Lord and Saviour, there was this said of Him: That He would be an object of wonder to men:”Vocabitur admirabilis.”

“He shall be called,” says the prophet, “the Wonderful.” He came; and, in signs, and miracles, and many glorious deeds, He excited the wonder of mankind; but never so much as when they heard from His lips such words as these: “Thy sins are forgiven thee,”

spoken to the sinner. They were astonished at His wisdom; they were astonished at His miracles; but it was only when He said to the paralytic man: “Thy sins are forgiven thee,” and to the Magdalene, “Arise, go in peace; all is forgiven thee,”

it was only then that the Pharisees absolutely refused to believe. Their wonder carried them even into incredulity; and they said among themselves, and to each other “How can this be?”

As it was with our Divine Lord, so it is with the action of His Holy Church with regard to sinners. The world beholds her as Christ, our Lord, established her in all her spiritual loveliness and beauty

in majesty, in unity, in truthfulness, and in power. Men are obliged to acknowledge all the beautiful things that dwell in the Church. Some reluctantly, others with apparent joy, bear witness to the fair order of mercy and charity in her. And when they see her best and her holiest sitting down in the hospitals and in orphanages, attending the poor, or following the soldier to the battlefield, they fill the world with praise of this wonderful mercy which is so organized in the Catholic Church. When they see eight hundred of her bishops, meeting in council, and all hearing the word of one man, and before that one bowing down as before the voice of God- they bear willing testimony to the wonderful unity of faith which is in the Church. When they contemplate her priesthood, consecrated to God, and devoted to the people, they give loud and cheerful testimony to the devotedness which exists in the Catholic Church. But there is one thing- just like the Pharisees with our Lord- there is one thing that they will not admit; and they are, perpetually, in regard to that one thing, repeating the old word of the Pharisees: “Who is this that says he can remit sin?” and “How can this be?” “Who is this man that even forgives, or pretends to forgive, sin?”

And so, over and over again, we meet those who say: “We admire the strength of your faith; we admire the piety of your worship; we admire the wonderful energy of your organization; we admire your ancient traditions; but don’t speak to us of confession! “Whenever the confessional is abused, they listen to the abuse of it with greedy ears. No man is more popular than the man who pretends to “unmask confession!” He is “honest!” he is “sincere!” he is “acting up to his convictions!” There must be something fearful, something terrible, in that assumption of power by which the Church pretends to deal with sinners, and to cleanse them from their sin. Yet, my friends, reflect; certain it is, that the mission for which the Eternal Son of God came down from heaven to earth was to take away sin; “that where sin abounded grace might abound still more.” Certain it is, that it was for sinners He came, and for their sins He died. Now, the action of Christ upon sinners and upon sin, was either to the total and entire destruction of sin, or only to the remedying of sin. Which of these was it? Did His sufferings and His death totally and entirely destroy sin? He might have done it. Did He put an end to sin? Alas, no! It was not the design of His wisdom. With sorrowing voice, He, Himself, declared that, when He had died and gone to the place of His glory, sin would still remain. “It is necessary,” He said, “that scandal should be.” If, then, this death and suffering of our Lord, and the mission of Christ, our Lord, was not to the total destruction of sin, and the mechanical and entire expulsion of all evil from this world, nothing remains but to say that He came to remedy sin; to deal with sin wherever he found it; to deal with it in each successive generation. And this is the truth; for Christ, our Lord, knowing and foreknowing that sin should be, provided a lasting remedy for the lasting evil. And, therefore, calling to Him His Apostles, He said: “I am come, that where sin abounded grace might abound still more.” Therefore did Christ suffer that the body of sin might be broken and destroyed in each successive generation. “The Father sent Me,” He says, “that where sin abounded grace might abound still more.” “Again, I say unto you, that even as the Father sent Me, so do I send you.” Then, breathing upon His Apostles, He said: “Receive ye the Holy Ghost; whose sins ye shall forgive they are forgiven them: and whose sins ye shall retain they are retained.” That moment—at the breathing of the Son of God—the power that was in Him was communicated to His Apostles, that, in His power, and in His strength, and in His grace, and in His action. they might absolve from sin, and cleanse the soul of sin.

Behold, then, how Christ, our Lord, clearly and emphatically embodied His action in the Church, and gave to the Church to do unto the end of time what He came to do upon the earth, viz., to deal with sin and with sinners; and to say to every weeping and contrite one, no matter how great the burdenof his sin, “Arise; depart in peace; thy sin is forgiven thee!” Even those who deny to the Church the power of forgiving sin, admit that the Apostles did it. They cannot deny that the Apostles had it, without denying the very words of Christ: “Whose sins ye shall forgive they are forgiven.” And yet, while they admit that the Apostles had it, strange to say, they imagine that the mysterious power died with the Apostles. Now, let us take up this theory. Let us reflect for a moment upon this foolish imagination that the power to forgive sin died with the Apostles. The action of Christ, I repeat again- the mission of Christ- was to deal with sin and with sinners. He gave that power, undoubtedly, to his Apostles; and I assert that if that power died with John, the last of the twelve, the action and the mission of Christ came to an end. It was absolutely necessary to acknowledge either that the power was transmitted from the Apostles to their successors in the priesthood, as they themselves had received it from Christ, or to confess that the action of the Son of God, our Redeemer, not being utterly destructive of sin, but only remedial- that that action must have ceased entirely when the last of the Apostles died, and that there was an end of all hope of pardon for sinners. Can you imagine this? Did He come only to redeem the generation that had crucified Him? Did He come only to redeem and to provide a remedy for the few generations that lasted as long as one of the Apostles was upon the earth? Oh, no! But He declared that as the Redeemer from everlasting was His name at the beginning, so, until the end, He should be with His Church, in the fullness of His power- in the greatness of the outpouring of His grace. “I am with you,” He says, “all days, even to the consummation of the world.” And therefore, He is Jesus Christ, the anointed Saviour!- the same Saviour today as eighteen hundred years ago, through his Church;- yesterday, to-day, and the same for ever. That the Apostles had the power of transmitting all that they received from Christ to their successors, is evident from one simple fact that is not sufficiently meditated upon by those who deny it. Christ, our Lord, spoke to the original twelve. Judas was amongst them when He called them to be Apostles. Judas prevaricated; betrayed his Master; fell from his place of glory, even as Lucifer fell from his high throne in Heaven; and then there were only eleven left. What did they do? They chose one man from out the seventy- two disciples—His name was Matthias- good and holy;-and they took this man- having laid their hands upon him- into the number of the Twelve Apostles, and he became even as they were. Everything that they could do he received the power to do. From whom? From Christ? Christ was already ascended into Heaven. From whom, then? From the Apostles themselves. Think you, my brethren, that, if they had not the power of transmitting all that they had received from Christ, they would have chosen a man and made him an Apostle? But we have this upon the authority of Scripture. What, therefore. they were able to do for Matthias, they were able to do for all their successors in the priesthood and in the episcopate. And so the glorious tradition was handed down the stream; for all that began with Jesus Christ- that flowed from Him through Peter, James, John, and the others—flows to-day in the sacred channels of the priesthood. And that stream is a two-fold stream, viz., pure undiluted doctrine, as true as the very Word of God, because it is the Word of God—never to be polluted by the least error; and, side by side with that stream of doctrine, the waters of Divine grace; the sacramental power to heal by the touch of sanctity; by the application of the grace of Jesus Christ in the sacraments. These remained principally, as far as regards sinners, in the sacrament of baptism and in the sacrament of penance.

It is clear, then, dearly beloved, that this was necessary in order that the mission and action of the Son of God, as Redeemer of the world- falling upon sinners, touching them, and cleansing them- should continue in the Church. This was prophesied clearly by him who said: “On that day there shall be a fountain open unto the House of David and unto the dwellers in Jerusalem; unto the cleansing the sinner and the unclean.” That sacramental fountain springs forth from the Church in the sacrament of penance.

Now, before we pass to consider the action of this sacrament upon society, consider it, first, viewed by the Almighty God, and in the wonderful manifestation of the heart and the hand of Jesus Christ. When the Son of God came down from heaven to redeem the world, He came with three glorious attributes, which He was bound to preserve, even in the action of His redemption, because He was God. These were mercy, power, and justice. The justice of the Eternal Father demanded that His own divine Son, who, alone, could pay man’s debt, should come down from heaven and pay that debt in His blood. The justice of the Son of God, in relation to His heavenly Father, made Him come down from heaven and pay, in the shedding of that blood, the all-sufficient price for all the souls of mankind. The justice of the Eternal Father demanded that, as He had been outraged in every attribute of His power and dignity by the man, Adam, so, by a man- a true man—that honor, and glory, and dignity should be restored to Him; and the justice of the Eternal Word brought that untreated God from heaven, that, becoming true man—the Son of Man- He might be able to pay, in that sacred humanity, and by the shedding of that blood, for the souls of mankind. Thus we see how the justice of God came forth for the world’s redemption. Secondly, the mercy of God is seen; for, O dearly beloved brethren, when we had abandoned the Almighty God, ungrateful for all that He had conferred upon us, He might have left us a fallen and a God-forsaken race; He might have turned away from the first sinner upon earth as He turned away from the first sinner in heaven, so as never to look with mercy upon his face again. But no; God looked upon the fallen race with eyes of pity, with eyes of infinite compassion and of mercy; and, on the first day of His anger, He remembered this pity and this mercy; for, after having cursed Adam for his sin, and having laid His curse upon the earth in the work of Adam, then did He unfold the plan of his redemption; and to the serpent He said: Therefore, the woman, and the woman’s seed shall crush thy head. In this we behold the power of God. For, says St. Augustine, the power of God is measured in our regard by the greatest of His works. Now, the greatest work of God is the redemption of mankind; and the greatest work it ever entered into the mind of God to conceive, or into the hand of God to execute, was, God made man in our Saviour, Christ. This was the greatest of all God’s works. Compared with this creature—the Son of Mary; for in His humanity He was a creature- a man; compared with Him in the ineffable union of God and man, of two natures in one person; everything else that God made, every other power that He ever showed or exercised, vanishes as if it was nothing; and Christ, our Lord, God and man, looms forth, filling heaven and earth, as the greatest of all God’s works. So, in like manner, in the dealings of Christ our Lord with sinners, He was careful to preserve the same three attributes of His divinity. His power He showed forth in the remission of their sins; His mercy He showed forth in turning to them and spurning them not from Him; His justice He showed forth, for never did He absolve a sinner from his sin without cautioning that sinner, lest he might return to that sin again, and something far more terrible should fall upon him.

And now, when we pass from the action of Christ to His Church, what do we find? We find, dearly beloved brethren, in all the works of God in His Church, in all her sacraments, a union of the same attributes. But nowhere, in no sacrament, in no action of God, do we find power and mercy so magnificently shown forth, and so wonderfully blended into one act, as in the act by which the sinner is saved, and absolved from his sin. First of all, consider the power of God. Almighty God showed His omnipotence, first of all, in the creation. He spoke over the darkness and the void of space, and He said, “Let there be light;” and light was made in an instant. The sun shone forth in the heavens, and the moon caught up her reflected glory from him. The stars sprang forth like clustering gems in the firmament newly created, and the whole world was flooded with the blessed light which sprang into existence at the word of God. Then followed the same imperative, omnipotent command- the same fiat; and at the sound of the expression of God’s will, life came out of death, as light out of darkness; beauty out of chaos; order out of disorder; and all the series of worlds took up their position in their respective places in creation, and began that hymn of harmony and praise which has resounded before Him for six thousand years. How great, how wonderful is the word that God spoke, and by which He could effect such great things! Yet St. Augustine tells us that the words by which the priest says to the sinner, “I absolve thee in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost,” and which, at their sound, cleanse that sinner’s soul from all his sins; bring him forth from out the grave; bring him forth from out the darkness of his sin, into the light of God’s grace; from defilement into purity; from death into life; that that word is simply, infinitely more powerful than the word- the fiat- by which Almighty God created the world. Infinitely more powerful; and why? Because, when God, in the beginning of creation, stood, as it were, upon the threshold of heaven, and from heaven’s brightness sent forth the word, there was nothing in that void that lay before God, nothing in that chaotic space over which His word was sped, that could resist the action of His word. There was nothing there. He made all things out of nothing; but the original nothingness, therefore, could not resist the action of God. Nor is there in heaven, nor upon the earth, nor in hell, anything that can resist the action of God, except one thing; and that one thing is the obstinate will, and the perverse heart of the sinner. The will of man alone can say to the Almighty God; “Omnipotence, I defy thee.” And why? It is not that God could not, if He so willed it, annihilate that will; but He does not will it. It is because the Almighty God, by an eternal law, respects that freedom of man’s will, so that if that will resist Him freely, Omnipotence itself is powerless before that will. Such being the decree of the law of the wit of God, the heart of man alone, the will of man alone, can offer such an obstacle to the Almighty God’s action. Even in His omnipotent power, God must yield, because He cannot gain a victory without destroying that freedom which He has sworn, by an eternal law, to respect.

Now, when a man commits sin, falls from one sin into another, when he becomes a drunkard, or an impure man, or a blasphemer, or, in any other way, hands over his soul to the devil, then his will is opposed to God- his heart turned against God. And how can the Almighty God convert that man whose will is opposed to Him, and the freedom of whose will He is bound to respect? Here comesin the wonderful action of God’s wisdom united to His omnipotence. He will not say to that sinner, “You must be converted;” He will not say it, because, if He said it, that conversion would not be free, would not be worthy of man, nor could it be deserving of the favor and acceptance of Almighty God. The freedom that is in God essentially He has reflected on man, and he that is saved must be saved by a free cooperation with God’s grace; and he that is damned, goes down to hell of his own free-will. Therefore, the Lord says, “Thy perdition is from thyself, O Israel!” Here is the difficulty, then, that the mind of God alone, the wisdom of God alone, united to His omnipotence, can solve. Here is a man whose will is opposed to God. As long as that will is opposed to God, Almighty God can never have mercy on that man. And yet God cannot, in virtue of His own eternal laws, force that will to relinquish its opposition to Him. Therefore, by His graces, by His wonderful attractive powers, He awakens in that sinner’s soul the first feelings of love. He puts before the sinner’s eyes, first, the hideous, yet true, lineaments of sin. He excites in the sinner’s heart the first feelings of remorse and of loneliness at being separated from God. He puts into the sinner’s cup of pleasure the little drop that embitters it somewhat to his own spiritual taste; and He reminds him how sweet it was to have loved the Lord his God. He thunders in that sinner’s ears the announcement of His judgments; He shakes that sinner’s soul with the first tremblings of that holy fear which is the beginning of wisdom. With a merciful hand He opens the vision of hell, and shows to that sinner’s startled glance the lowest abode of the everlasting dwelling-place of the enemies of God. And thus, by a thousand powerful graces, sweetly, yet strongly, does He bring that sinner’s will around, until, at length, the impediment is removed, and the man comes freely, not forced, but drawn and attracted- not coerced at all, yet coming in spite of himself- in spite of himself, yet freely; and (mystery of the omnipotence of divine grace, and of the wonderful respect of God’s omnipotence for the freedom of man), he comes and surrenders himself to God. Then, and only then, can the Almighty God absolve him from his sin. Consider how great is the obstacle that has to be removed from that sinner’s soul before the omnipotent God can free him from his sin! There is there a will opposed to God. If all the angels in heaven, if all the powers in heaven and upon earth strained themselves to change that will, their action would be simply impotence before it; so tremendous is the law that preserves the perfect freedom of man’s will for good or for evil.

We can again reflect upon the power of God, as shown in His punishment of sin; for this is the second great feature of His omnipotence, when it comes out in all the rigors of His justice. Oh, how terrible is this consideration, that, whilst we are here, peacefully assembled around this holy altar, there is, somewhere or other in the creation of God, the vast, the terrible, prison of hell, with its millions on millions of unhappy inmates, and its flames, roaring, sweeping, devouring, and yet not consuming; that, somewhere or other, the air is filled with the cry- the spiritual cry- of the imprisoned souls and reprobate angels of God, dashing in all their wild and impotent rage against those bars that shall never permit, them to go forth; that there is enkindled, by the breath of an angry God, a fire that shall never be extinguished; and there, for all eternity, the hand of God, in all its omnipotence, will fall with all the weight of its unsatisfied vengeance of fire! Terrible, terrible it is to think upon the despair that, looking forward to an endless eternity, sees no ray of hope, no moment of mitigation of the terrible punishments of the soul and of the body there! Yet, if you reflect upon it. what is more natural than that the sinner, dying in his sins, should go down to hell? Where can he go? He cannot go to heaven with all his sins upon him. He died the enemy of God. He died with his free will turned away from God. He died with the hatred of God in his heart, because of the presence of sin. Is this the man you would introduce into the Divine presence? Is it on those lips, accustomed to blasphemy, that you would place the ringing canticle of praise? He has no idea of the joys of heaven, for they are spiritual; and this man’s only idea or notion of delight was in gross, carnal sensuality. He has no idea of the Lord of heaven; for, all his lifetime, he spoke the language of hell

cursing and blaspheming. He has no idea of the God of heaven; for, all his lifetime, he served the demon of his own passions and his own evil inclinations. There is nothing in him attuned with heaven. It would be violence offered to him to send him to heaven, and to make him enter into the joys of God. No; it is natural that he should go down into the cesspool of hell; either his sin must leave him, or else that sin, abiding upon his soul, must leave him under the brand of God’s vengeance for ever.

What is more natural, my friends, than the idea of the water flowing from the little fountain on the mountain’s summit—flowing onward in its little bed, falling now over one rock and then over another, receiving its various tributaries as it flows along, and growing in size until, at length, it becomes a great river in the lower plains? Falling from one cascade into another, it finds the deep valley in the open country, and there sweeps into the mighty river, spanned by great bridges, passing through great towns, supporting upon its bosom mighty ships of war; until at length, turbulent, and with a thousand impurities, it falls rapidly into the deep, wild ocean. This is all natural. That a man, should stand upon that river’s side and say:

“Flow on, thou shining river!” is natural. But that a man should be able to stand in the mid-tide of that mighty stream, and with his hands to push it back against its course; to make it flow up through the upper lands, and up to the higher levels; to make it flow upwards against the cataract; to bring it up, purifying it as he goes, until, at length, from the turbulent, impure, and muddy stream, he brings it back again over the rocks, until, pure as crystal, it arrives at its source, and empties into that source- this would be a wonderful achievement! This would be power! And what this would be is precisely what the omnipotence of

God does here in the confessional, as compared with His action in permitting the damned to go down into hell. That God should permit the sinner to go down into hell, and that He should visit him there with His everlasting punishment, is natural and necessary, and shows the power God possesses, and need excite no astonishment. But that the Almighty God should stop the sinner in his mad career of sin; that He should make him stand whilst he was hurrying on through every channel of impurity, and pride, and avarice, and dishonesty, gathering every element of corruption and defilement as he went along; swelling forth in the tide of his iniquity as he was nearing the great ocean of hell that God should stop him, send him back again into the halls of memory, and there, through the upward stream of his life, cleanse him from his impurity and sin as he went along, until, at length, he brought him back to the pure, limpid fountain-head of his baptismal innocence- this is the wonder. Here shines the omnipotence of God. And this is precisely the act which He does when

He takes the sinner and cleanses him from his sin in the confessional!

But how wonderfully are His love and mercy blended in this action of Christ. We know that the subject- the very subject of His omnipotence- is the sinner- a man who has violated, perhaps, the most essential and important of God’s laws; a man who may have the blood of the innocent on his red-stained hand; a man from whose soul every vestige of divine remembrance and of spiritual aspiration may have departed, because of his impurity; a man who may have committed sins worse even than those that brought the deluge of fire from Heaven on the cities of Pentapolis; a man who may have lived only to devote himself to every most wicked and diabolical purpose, until he has frittered into pieces and broken every one of God’s holy laws and commands—that man comes and stands before this enraged and offended God

- stands before this God who has a hell prepared for him- stands before this God whose goodness he has despised—whose grace he has trampled upon- whose blood he has wasted away- whose every attribute he has outraged- and he asks that God to deal with him! He comes as a criminal, and to that God he says: “Lord! here I am! There is not in nether hell one so bad as I. There is no record, in the annals of Thy dealings with sinners, of any sinner so terrible as I have been. And now, I wish to enter with Thee into judgment!” If that man had violated the laws of this world, as he has violated the laws of God; if that man had insulted human society as he has insulted the Lord Jesus Christ; if that man’s iniquities were only taken cognizance of by an earthly tribunal, see how they would deal with him! He would be dragged from his house, perhaps in the noonday, by the rough officers of justice; he would be taken publicly through the streets of the city, every eye looking at him curiously, every hand pointing at him as the great criminal- the man who committed such a murder- the man who did such and such wicked things. He would be flung into a dark dungeon, in a prison, and, after days and days of waiting and anxiety, he would be brought again into the open court, and the whole world called on to hear the testimony of his crime, and to behold his shame. Oh, no feeling of his would be spared! He would not be allowed to shrink into a corner of that court, there to hide his guilty head. No, but he must stand forth and confront the witnesses who depose against him, and quietly and calmly swear away his life’s blood. He must be exposed to the heartless jeers and inquiring gaze of the world, that is so unsympathizing. He may be, perhaps, on his transit from the court-house to the prison, exposed to the groans and the hisses of the multitude. When he is found guilty, and his crime is brought home to him, then comes the awful moment. A judge, in solemn dignity, tells him that his life is forfeit, and that he must die a death of public infamy and ignominy to expiate his crime. Thus does the world deal with its criminals. But if this criminal of whom I speak, appear before the Son of God, and say: “Saviour, judge; let us enter into judgment!” Christ takes him by the hand, and He warns off the crowd. Christ takes him and brings him into a secret tribunal; calls no witnesses against him; allows no finger of shame to be pointed at him; listens to what he has to say against himself; He says “Speak, my son, and speak freely!” He speaks his deeds of shame, it is true, in the ears of a man. That man is there as the representative of the Lord Jesus Christ, whose mercy he is about to administer. He hears the whispered word. It must not be heard even by the angel of mercy who is there, but only by the sinner and the priest of Jesus Christ. That word falls upon the priest’s ear; for a moment it enters into his mind, and in a moment it passes away. Just as a little child, on a calm summer evening, might take a pebble and fling it into the bosom of a deep, still, placid lake; for an instant there is a ripple on the face of the water; there is a little circlet of waves; presently these die away, the waters close, and the pebble is lost forever. No human eye shall ever see it again. So, for an instant, the sound of the sinner’s voice makes but a ripple upon the ear of the priest, thrills for an instant on the delicate tympanum, and passes from that into the unfathomable ocean of themerciful heart of Jesus Christ. The waters of Christ’s mercy close over it; and that sin is gone

gone forever. Not eye of angel, not eye of man, nor eye of God at the hour of judgment, shall ever look upon it again; for the blood of Jesus Christ has fallen upon it and washed it away. How little it costs the priest to say, “I absolve thee in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost,”—these three words! How little it costs the sinner! Scarcely a humiliation! If, indeed, a man had to proclaim his confession, and make it publicly; if a man had to make it before the assembly of the faithful; if a man had to make it on a Sunday morning, before all the people, as they were crowding in to Mass; even then, if such a confession would obtain pardon for me, great God, would it not be a great gift to be able to purchase such a grace even at such a cost—even at the ruin of my character- even with all the ignominy and contumely that I would sustain at my public confession! It would be cheap, considering what I got in return. If the law of Almighty God said to the sinner: “I will bring thee to the stake- and only at the last moment, when the last drop of life’s blood is coming from that broken heart—then, and only then, will I absolve thee!”—would it not be cheaply purchased—this pardon of God, this grace of God, this eternity of God’s joy in heaven—even by the rendering of the last drop of our blood! But no! Full of love, full of commiseration, Christ, our Lord, comes to us with mercy, sparing every feeling of the sinner, making every difficult thing smooth, trying to anticipate, by the sweetness of His mercy, all the humiliation, and all the pain; shrouding all under that wonderful veil of secrecy which has never for an instant been rent since the Church was first founded; and, in the end, it is the only tribunal where, when a man is found guilty, the only sentence pronounced on him is one of acquittal. In other tribunals, when a man is found guilty, he receives his punishment. In the tribunal of penitence,all a man has to say is: “Of these am I guilty before my God; oh, my God, with sorrow I confess them!” The only sentence is: “You are acquitted! go in peace!” No vestige of sin—no stain of your iniquity is upon you! The sin is gone, and the terrible curse that was upon your soul is changed into a blessing! The angel-guardian that accompanied the sinner to the door of the confessional awaits without, even as the Magdalene waited beside the tomb, whilst the body of our Lord lay there. For, even as the angels, when the midnight hour of the resurrection came, beheld a glorious figure rise from that tomb, and flung out their hearts and voices in adoration of the risen Saviour, from whom every wound and every deformity had disappeared; so the angel-guardian, waiting prayerfully, sorrowfully, outside the confessional, turns, for an instant, when that door opens, and rejoices when he beholds the man who went in, covered with sin, come forth as pure as that angel himself. The man who went in loaded with crimes comes forth with the blessing of the Eternal God, shining with the characters of immortal light, upon his forehead; the man who went in dead and buried in his sin, has heard, within that secret tribunal, the voice which said: “Lazarus, come forth!” and he has risen and come forth; and the angel-guardian is astonished at the change and the brightness on him. Is it not so? Was there not a sad angel following, with reluctant and distant steps, the woman that flaunted through the streets of Jerusalem- the Magdalene, with her flowing robes, and her outstretched neck of pride- was there not an angel that knew her in the day of her innocence, and was now stricken with misery to behold so much shame? Oh, but when that angel saw her as she rose from the feet of Jesus Christ, that she had washed with her tears—oh, when that angel saw her as she rose, with the words of the Lord upon her head- “Oh, woman, go in peace: thou hast loved much and all is forgiven thee!”—then, admiring the glory of the Magdalene’s zeal, he struck the key-note of that voice that re-echoed in the heavens, until the vaults of heaven were shaken again, when the nine choirs of angels gave glory to God over the one sinner that did penance! So it is with us. We have seen the love, the mercy, the power that is exercised towards us.

And now, dearly beloved brethren, let us consider the action of this sacrament upon society.

The Catholic Church received from Christ, our Lord, a twofold mission. That mission the world is unwilling to recognize; but that mission it is the destiny of the Church of God to fulfill until the end of time. That mission has in it a two fold character. To sinners, to those who are in darkness, it brings the light; to those who are dead in the corruption of sin it brings the life of Divine grace. This two fold mission is perfectly clear from the words of Christ to his Apostles: “You are the light of the earth,” He said. “Vos estis lux mundi: You are the light of the world.” “And you are the salt of the earth.” The light to illumine the world’s darkness; the salt to heal and purify the world’s corruption. The first of these missions the Church of God fulfills in her teaching; for the Psalmist said, with truth, “The declaration of Thy Word, oh God, brings light and intelligence to Thylittle children!” And, as it is the Church’s destiny to be, until the end of time, the light of the world, so the light which is to come from her must be the very light of God. Therefore, the word of truth, that creates that light, can never die away fromthe Church’s lips; nor, coming from those lips, can it ever be polluted by the slightest iota or admixture of error. She has the power given to her by our Lord, not only to illumine men in their darkness, but to heal them in their corruption. What is the corruption of the sinner? What is that corruption, that infirmity, that defilement to which Christ alluded when He said to His Apostles: “Ye are the salt of the earth,” ye must be put upon the sore places of the world; ye must be put upon the festering wounds of the world. What are, these sore places these festering wounds? They are the sores and wounds of sin in the soul. Sin is the sore spot of the soul. Sin is the awful ulcer of society. Sin, that abounds everywhere. For it abounds in every circle: in the commercial circles, making men untrustworthy and dishonest; in the domestic circle, making servants pilfer and steal; making masters and mistresses exacting and unjust; making children disobedient; making parents forgetful of their duties to their children; making the young man impure, and the married man unfaithful. All these things, all these evils

that are teeming around us that meet us wherever we turn

that we cannot avoid seeing and hearing, be we ever so fastidious

they come under the ver y touch of our hand, and they disgust us with this life of ours. Then we are fain to cry out with the Psalmist, “O God, woe is me, because my pilgrimage here is prolonged!” All these things are the corruptions of mankind; and the power that the Church received when she was called the “salt of the earth,” is to purge away all this, to remedy all these evils, heal all these wounds, and sweeten all that bitterness and all that corruption of society. All this she does through the sacrament of penance- or through the confessional. There is she truly the saviour of society, and the world cannot do without her.

How significant it is that, when Germany gave up the faith and the sacraments three hundred years ago, such was the immorality, such was the impurity that filled the community at once, that actually a German city was obliged to petition to have the confessional, or the sacrament of penance restored. All classes of society said: “The responsibility is gone—the yoke is removed from us—we need no longer betake ourselves to the task of looking up our sins and weeping over them, and wailing over them, and taking measures of avoiding them, or incurring the pain and humiliation of confessing them.” All this is gone; and then, like the Hebrews of old, they rose up, joined hands, and danced round the new-found idol- the golden calf of their own sensuality and wickedness. “You are the salt of the earth,” He said to them. Oh, if the Catholic Church was not on this earth! If she were not here with her sacraments to create purity and to preserve it; to create honesty and to enforce it; to bring home the full and entire responsibility of every man, and to him personally- to bring home to every soul- the deformity of sin, the necessity of repenting individually for each and every sin; to shake every soul in her sacrament of penance, from the lethargy of sin- oh, I protest, my friends, I believe, if the Catholic Church were not here, operating upon her millions throughout the world, to do this, that long before this time, the chariot of society, rolling down the steep hill of human infirmity, would have precipitated the whole world into destruction and death.

How is it that Protestant employers and masters are so anxious to have Catholic servants, Catholic “help,” Cathol ic apprentices, Catholic people about them? How is it? Because they are shrewd enough to know that the confessional which they despise creates honesty- enforces it. There is no stronger way to enforce honesty than to get a man to believe that he cannot live without Jesus Christ- and that Jesus Christ is on the altar waiting for him, to tell him that between him and the Saviour stands a barrier that he must overcome, if he becomes dishonest, and that he cannot do without restoring to the last farthing whatever he has unjustly got; to tell him that if he becomes a thief- public or private- that the accumulation of his thievery will build up an impenetrable wall between him and God; and that, until that wall is pulled to pieces by restitution, he never can approach the sacraments here nor the glory of God hereafter. An English Protestant clergyman came to me once, when I was on the English mission, and he said to me: “Father, I come to complain of one of my manservants” I said to him, “Well, sir, what on earth have I to do with your servants?” “Oh,” he said, “all my servants, both men and women, are Catholics; and I would not think of employing anybody else.” “What complaint,” I said, “have you to make then of any of them?” “Well,” he said, “I insist on their going to confession once a month; and this man has not been there in the last two months. So I came here to insist on his going.” “Well, but you do not believe in it.” “No,” he said, “I know I do not believe in it; but so long as my Catholic people do go, they will not steal from me; and so long as they do not go to confession and communion, they will not receive any wages from me!” What is the agency that touches the depravity of the world and creates purity and honesty? I answer, it is the confessional. Remember that the idea of purity as a virtue, as it lies in the mind of Christ and in the mind of His Church, is not merely an external decorum; not merely the avoiding of gross, actual sins; but that it begins in the very thoughts in the inner chambers of the soul of man; that it will not allow any impure or defiling imaginations to rest there for a single instant; that it will not allow as much even as an impure thought to be sanctioned for one second by the will; and out of that interior purity of soul, of thought, of imagination, springs the external virtue of chastity; for, without that interior purity, rendering the soul itself as candid, as white, as innocent as was the soul of Mary on the day of her assumption- without that, all external chastity would be as a dead body without its soul. Now, the only way to create that interior purity- to create the essence of the virtue, to make the soul of the virtue, the life of the virtue- the only way is to establish firmly in the soul and in the mind of man, the idea of his responsibility to God for every thought of his mind, as well as for every action and word of his life; to bring him face to face with Christ; to make him not only know but feel that He whom he serves, looks with a penetrating and scrutinizing gaze into the very inner chambers of the soul. How does the Church do this? By bringing that young man to confession; by putting him face to face with Jesus Christ; scrutinizing and examining his thoughts, his words, and actions; by making him search, by the light of memory, every cranny of his soul, and of his imagination; by making him feel that even although his lips may never have breathed an obscene word, even though this man may never have committed an impure action, he might still be as impure and as bad as the worst of men. This is only done by that action of the Church, which not only teaches a man to be pure, but drags him, as it were, with holy violence, and puts him into the presence of the God of purity; and says, “Come, open your heart, my son,: and let the light of Jesus Christ into your soul!”

Thus it is, that from the confessional spring those virtues by which man acts upon his fellowman. The index virtue is purity; and the next virtue, in relation to our fellow-man, is honesty. The third virtue is charity. And behold how the confessional acts here. If a man speaks badly of his neighbor, if he ruins that neighbor’s character or reputation, if he gets that neighbor thrown out of some lucrative employment by his whisperings, or his tales—he goes to confession; he says, I am sorry for the sin I have committed; and he finds, perhaps, to his astonishment, that the priest will say to him, “There is another difficulty;” until he makes good that man’s character, there is no absolution for him; until he has swallowed the lie he has told, there is no pardon for him; until he has restored to his neighbor the fair name and fame of which, by his whispering, and enmity, and injustice, he had robbed him, there is no pardon for him. What greater, what stronger motive could there be to make a man guard his words, to preserve him from detraction, to make him measure well his words before he inflicts an injury on his neighbor; when he knows if he gives way to this mean jealousy or enmity, if he says these things or publishes them, even though men may forget it, God will not forget it in the interests of his neighbor. “To communion,” this man must say, “I cannot go; nor cross the threshold of the kingdom of heaven, until I have gone out and swallowed this liethat I have told.”

And so, pursue our relations to each other, to society, and to those around us, into every detail of social life, and you there will find the Church following you, guiding your footsteps by her light, preserving your souls from sin, or touching them with a healing hand if you have fallen into sin. It is, therefore, no wonder at all, my friends, that every heresy, almost, that ever sprang up in the Church, assailed the confessional first. Nearly all heresies united in this—at least many of them- offering a bribe to poor human nature. And the bribe was, “You need not go any more to confession.” When Luther started his Protestantism the world was shocked; for as soon as the people heard, “Oh, it is all folly to go to confession! You need not go any more! there is no necessity!”—he abolished the obligation of making restitution; he abolished the form of the confessional, that has restrained so many souls and kept them within settled, salutary barriers; he abolished all that, and left men to their own devices; and he left the world, the Protestant world, as if Christ, our Lord, had never come upon earth, never touched our humanity; because he left it without the remedies by which sin could be avoided, and evaded; and he left the accumulated sins of man, from his childhood to his old age, like a mountain upon him, to bear them- and to carry them before the judgment seat of Christ. Ah, cruel and cruel, indeed, was the heart of him who devised this infernal scheme! Oh, cruel Luther! Oh, Luther, when thou didst say to Jesus Christ and to His Church, “Let no more pardon and no more grace come from you! Let men live without you!”—terrible was that denial of the greatest of earth’s comforts, as well as most substantial of heaven’s benefits! For what greater comfort can a man have—if there be any hidden sin weighing upon his spirit, breaking his heart, loading him with a burden which he cannot bear alone- what is the natural instinct of that man? To find a friend, to unbosom himself to that friend, to lighten his own burden by sharing it with another. Even if that friend has no power to relieve him, even if he have nothing to give him but a word of sympathy or consolation- merely to tell, merely to open the heart, is such relief- such relief as can only be felt by those who, in order to gain it, might else speak their sin before the world. But the great drawback is, “where shall we find this friend!” We must demand of him sympathy; we must demand of him patience; but, above all, what we rarely find, we must demand of him to keep whatever we tell him a secret. How rarely do you find a friend with whom you can entrust a secret? Tell a man a thing that you would not wish the world to know, and the old proverb is that you are in that man’s power for the rest of your life. Why? Because if he tells that about you, you are ruined! And he may ruin you, because you put yourself in his power. But who ever thought this of a priest in the confessional? Did it ever come across a Catholic’s mind? I verily believe it never came, even as a temptation from hell to tempt us against telling one’s sins. Well you know that that man has no power even to remember; well you know that you can meet that man an hour afterward, and you can put your hand into his, as if you had never bent your knee to him; that he will never be so infamous a blasphemer as to remember that which the Almighty God in heaven has forgotten!

Thus it is that the voice in the confessional acts on society. If the whole world were Catholic—and I will conclude with this sentence- if the whole world were Catholic, and that all men consented to go regularly to the sacraments, and to approach worthily to the sacrament of penance, this alone would put an end to all sin. There would be no more sin. There would be no more heart-breaking, no more tears, no more terrific records of robberies and murders, no more women hardening their hearts and making them more ferocious than the tigress when she devours and tears her young; no more of that cautious, cold, calculating dishonesty- men casting their wiles about each other like a spider’s web, to entrap each other; no misery in this world, all would be happiness, if men would only open their festering souls and let in the salt of the power and of the grace of the Lord Jesus Christ!

Thus do we behold the action of the confessional on society. Oh, my friends, let us pray that God may enlighten those who, without the pale of the Catholic Church, go on from day to day, from year to year, adding sin to sin, and bearing the accumulated burden of their sins before the eternal judgment-seat of Jesus Christ.

Whilst we, pray for them, oh, let us, like good men and true, enter into those privileges and graces which we enjoy, cleansing our souls from sin, preserving them in their purity by the frequent application of grace, which destroys those sins at the beginning, and, by frequenting confession and holy communion, build up our souls upon the grace of graces, and strength of strengths, until we are gathered, in the fullness of the years of our manhood, into the joy of our Lord Jesus Christ.

Imprimatur:

F. Dominicus Lilly & F. Petrum Sablon (Revisores Ordinis) ********

The Confessions of An Australian Convert

JOHN CROTTY

INDEX

“Men will not believe because they will not broaden their minds. . . .”-G. K. Chesterton

Born in Melbourne in 1911, named after a grand-uncle whose career in high finance was to be crowned with a knighthood (Sir John Russell French), I was a true child of the age, dominated as a matter of fact by a blind faith in scientific progress and capitalist efficiency: the titles of the books I chose as prizes at school are significant:-”Modern Inventions,” was one of them, as was “Electricity of Today,” “The Romance of Modern Engineering,” “This World of Ours.” In the meantime, grace was at work alongside of nature: devout parents secured for me the blessing of Christian Baptism (my father was a clergyman of the Church of England, and his brother, my godfather, is a Bishop of the same denomination), and it is through them, humanly speaking, that I came to know and love God and His Church.

1. EARLY YEARS

But to begin at the beginning. We were five little Australians, blissfully ignorant of the spacious Catholic world existing abroad, even within our predominantly Protestant Empire (though we knew and respected the noble work of nuns, as two of us had godmothers among the Anglican Sisters at Cheltenham). No wonder, then, that a good-humoured reference to that strange world by a dear friend of the family has stuck fast in my memory-”God help us poor Protestants, there are so few of us.”

My education began at Moreland State School and continued at the Church of England Grammar Schools of Launceston and Melbourne. At the latter I had the privilege of being taught by Carl Kaeppel of whom Professor Chisholm haswritten that, “no man in Australia has done more to preserve intellectual ideals and to indicate the values of scholarship. None ever passed through his hands at Melbourne Grammar School. . . . without getting some insight into intellectual processes and learning to appreciate scholarship . . . He had unlimited faith in the British way of life and in the British Empire, and he defended his beliefs most valiantly during the first World War, when he served in France as an officer in the 18th A.I.F. Battalion and won the Military Cross. . . . In Sydney, where he spent his last years-and where he had first been educated-he was converted to Catholicism. . . . It was, he said, partly an intellectual conversion and was partly based on the conviction that the Catholic Church was the only organized spiritual force capable of resisting the infiltration of those Communist doctrines that he loathed. . . .”

2. AT THE UNIVERSITY

From a nominally Christian school I went into a frankly atheist Education Department and University, to which I went up in 1930 on a Government Studentship, won as a Junior Teacher at Abbotsford State School during the previous year. “The Australian way is secular education,” writes Bernard Shaw in a book I read at that time, “meaning total exclusion of religious and philosophical teaching. Now to teach science without any reference to philosophy and religion is to present the world to the child as an automatic machine worked by soulless mechanical forces and energies without purpose or scruple-the organism called man goes through a course of action as an avalanche does when it goes down hill, or a hydrogen balloon when it rises through the air. You can no more draw a line and put a barrier between the temporal and spiritual in education than you can in the soul of man.” (Sham Education.)

But it was only years after, as a Catholic, that I found the true philosophy of education. Meantime my Protestant public school religion succumbed to scepticism, and in spite of the satisfaction I found in student life, convivial and otherwise, playing cricket and football, and from time to time falling in love, I was vaguely conscious of the fact that my Catholic fellow-students did not find life quite so meaningless as myself.

A period of no less than seven years elapsed before I was received into the Church. During all that time my mind turned constantly to study of the faith of my fore-fathers. I began rebuilding my lost Christian faith from the imperishable materials provided by what my Anglican friends spokeof as “the Catholic heritage of the Church of England.” And I remember that it was from my father, whose ample library bespoke the true Doctor of Divinity, that I borrowed that profound little book of Christopher Dawson, The Spirit of the Oxford Movement, published by Sheed and Ward in 1933, the centenary of the movement. It was my first glimpse of the intellectual giant that Newman became in his Roman maturity, and of Rome as the true terminus of the movement. But my Anglican loyalty was triumphant for the time being (I have no recollection of its being tested by any shadow of doubt), and I took my stand with Keble and Pusey on the Anglican Prayer Book and the doctrines of its court of appeal (as yet known only by Anglican report), the early Church. I had moved from a Government hostel in Parkville to Trinity College in 1931, on winning a scholarship there, and thoroughly enjoyed the open forum for the discussion of every subject under the sun which university life there and across Tin Alley provides.

3. ANGLICAN ORDINATION

The year 1933 found me flaunting an Arts degree, qualifying for a post-graduate scholarship in French, failing in Diploma of Education exams,-and in health. Invalided out of the service of the State, I sought to enter the service of the Church, much to the annoyance of even a Christianprofessor at Melbourne’s secular university, who asked a friend of mine why a first-class honours man was talking about wasting his life in such a way!

My theological studies began at Trinity, the chaplaincy of which I was offered at the end of the year (1934) by the Anglican Archbishop of Melbourne. However, I preferred to stay with my uncle, who had just ordained me deacon at Bathurst. During his absence in England, his Coadjutor, Bishop Wylde, ordained me to the Anglican priesthood, in June, 1935, at Forbes, where I was serving my curacy. We had parochial hostels for boys and girls attending the local high school, and there, as in Victoria, the subjection of baptized children to a non-Christian education struck me as a scandal as well as a sham.

I began to see why a faithful few refused to bow the knee to Baal; why a fifth of the population of Australia denied themselves the use of a school system which they could have used as tax-payers, and instead had to pay all over again for one they could use as Christians.

Nor does my experience lead me to hope for the Christianizing of the State system by allowing its teachers to supplement the clergyman’s weekly half-hour of “Religion.” For example, the Forbes High School Magazine published in 1934 a play which showed that the unfortunate pupils had been given as “history” a view of Luther as a noble symbol of a noble Germany waging a war that was still on against our common enemy the Catholic Church. For myself, I saw Hitler as the true heir of Luther (though he had, like Luther, been baptized a Catholic) and when Hitler first came to power I had denounced Nazism as the imminent peril to Christian civilization in an editorial in the Melbourne University weekly, Farrago. Hence I was not exactly happy in collaborating with a system of education which fostered such strange misconceptions of the truth. In the case of wealthy parents, of course, we could offer a Christian education for their children at Bathurst or Sydney, but what was that compared with the Christian education given by the Marist Brothers at their college in our town and by the Sisters at every far-flung convent, to children who were often as poor as themselves?

I borrowed Archbishop Sheehan’s Apologetics and Christian Doctrine: what better preparation for life could a school give? Could such good fruit as the lives of these dedicated teachers grow on an evil tree? My theological text books accused “Rome” of so many corruptions that I thought I”d better see what it had to say for itself. I bought Dr. Rumble’s Radio Replies. “Oh, it’s all lies,” said the theological luminary to whom I referred some of the replies, “as you’ll see when you get among scholars in England”-where he and other friends had always urged me to go, to complete my theological education.

4. IN ENGLAND

So to England I went, accompanying my uncle and his family when he left the See of Bathurst for the pulpit of St. Pancras in 1936. I had found a true friend in my Rector at Forbes, and have the happiest recollections of all the clergymen I came in contact with in the diocese, nor will I ever forget my uncle’s zeal for the things of God, which was an inspiration to us all. I have pleasant memories, too, of the home life of parishioners I used to visit, and also of a Catholic family which their friends of all denominations regarded as a model of goodness and joyousness, and which has since seemed to me a modern counterpart of the household of that great humorist and model of civic virtues, who died a martyr for Our Lord and His Vicar on earth: Sir Thomas, now Saint Thomas, More.

Even before I left Australia I was regarded as being more English than the English, so saw nothing incongruous at the time in the Lambeth Curia treating Australia as a colony, when I went to receive a license from the Archbishop of Canterbury to exercise my ministry in England, under the Colonial Clergy Act.

For eight months I buried myself in the heart of England, as assistant to the curate in charge of the parishes of All Saints and St. Laurence, Evesham, who was the soul of kindness to me, and I proceeded to lose all interest in Australia until Holy Church, which is the Mother of us all, as St. Paul says, taught her returning prodigal son to love the sunburnt country of his birth.

5. FURTHER STUDIES

But I anticipate: In Michaelmas term, 1936, I began a twoyears” course of study in the Faculty of Theology at Oxford, and soon found that the real scholars there would admit Dr. Rumble’s contentions, and that the “lies” were on the other side. And in informal discussions in the Origen Society, and other places, I heard not only the Modernist views taught in Australian theological colleges, but also those of such Catholic Biblical scholars as Lagrange and Grandmaison; and Professor Lightfoot, for one, spoke of them with respect. I had also been told about apostate priests and disloyal Catholics among the so-called intelligentsia of Europe, as an encouragement to enter the Anglican ministry. I met some of them, but did not find these meetings exactly encouraging. I had an Australian letter of introduction to one of the theologians who eventually presented the “Report on Doctrine in the Church of England.” What I heard from him of all schools of thought reaching a surprising measure of agreement, saved me at least from being surprised myself when the Anglican Archbishops published the document in 1938. The orthodox party among the clergy, be it said to their credit, repudiated its implications at once, but the unorthodox party welcomed it, and the effect on the unbelieving world which the Church exists to convert to the truth, was to give ecclesiastical respectability to heresy.

6. PAPAL CLAIMS

Fortunately, my studies at Oxford took me not only to the great Anglican divines, but also to the Fathers and Councils of the early Church, whom reason as well as Faith point to as the true interpreters of Our Lord and His Apostles. I found that the Papacywas regarded as being of the essence of Christianity, and that “Fourteen centuries before Pius IX Papal infallibility was already proclaimed,” as Vladimir Soloviev declared in 1889.

On the much misunderstood dogma of Papal Infallibility, I found that Shaw was right when he wrote in the preface to his St. Joan, “compared to our infallible democracies, our infallible medical councils, our infallible astronomers, our infallible judges, our infallible parliaments, the Pope is on his knees in the dust confessing his ignorance before the throne of God.”

“Dominus Illuminatio Mea” is Oxford’s motto: The Lord is my light. In matters both of faith and of morals that light was coming to me from the Catholic and Roman Church which founded Oxford. Even Professor Lightfoot’s lectures on St. Mark’s Gospel, which I attended, were introduced by a courageous avowal of the failure of Protestant scholarship to emancipate Christians from dependence on the Church for our knowledge of Christ. The lecturer on Scripture at Pusey House was following the rulings of the Roman Pontifical Biblical Commission, because of the weight of sound scholarship behind it. My special field of study embraced the works of the French Bishop Bossuet as well as those of his Anglican contemporaries, and my understanding of all Christian doctrines was enriched in the process,

Immorality and race suicide were once again threatening to undermine society, as when Salvian described the cities of the Roman Empire as a series of vast brothels. I learned from thelate Pope’s Encyclical on the Sacrament of Matrimony that the practice of contraception commonly hailed as making the unmarried safe from the consequences of indulging their passions, was sinful even for married people, and that the flouting of moral laws, as of physical laws, is a flying in the face of reality which has its inevitable retribution here or hereafter.

On the other hand I found that in 1930 the Lambeth Conference of the Anglican Bishops had given a limited approval to contraception. By about 1937 T. S. Eliot’s “Thoughts After Lambeth” were my thoughts on the subject too. On this and other points, including the fundamental point of the indissolubility of a valid marriage, we must stand once more where Rome has always stood, upholding Christ’s life-giving law, not just in some respects and in some dioceses, but, as He commanded, every jot and tittle of it, in each and every place.

On other questions of social and political morality -there had been Papal encyclicals which provided rallying points for Christians of all denominations.”Quadragesimo Anno” on the abuses of present-day capitalism and the true rights of capital and labour;”Non Abbiamo Bisogno,” on the revived “pagan worship of the State,” exemplified in Italian Fascism and its followers;”Mit Brennender Sorge” on the Nazi tyranny, “Divini Redemptoris” denouncing Communism, and offering truth and love to Communists. The Russian Orthodox writer, Berdyaev, in The End of Our Time, had warned us since the Russian Revolution “the rhythm of history has become catastrophic,” and the Pope’s words on Nazism and Communism were a last warning of what is now come upon us.

7. SIGNS OF AWAKENING

I tried to persuade myself that it was my duty to assist the spread of the Catholic message to man and society through the Church of my upbringing, as Eliot and many other better men than I sought to do, and to satisfy the claims of Our Lord’s Vicar on earth to my personal allegiance by the pious hope of “corporate reunion.” There were signs of a growing recognition of Catholic truth among Anglicans. There was a”Church Times” controversy in which it was conclusively proved that the commonest Protestant objection against Transubstantiation had been met by modern science. Oxford granted a research doctorate to Rev. Dr. Scott for his Eastern Churches and the Papacy; and Professor Nairne, of Cambridge, had written in the Church Quarterly Reviewin 1928 that the Roman Canon of the Mass is “the best of all prayers in its direct unadorned prayerfulness.” In the diocese of Worcester in which I continued to take Sunday duty for some time after going up to Oxford, Miss Evelyn Underhill, asked by Bishop Perowne to address his clergy, gave them the fruit of her own studies of the Catholic mystics, and recommended, as helps in their interior and professional lives, Dom John Chapman’s “Spiritual Letters” and a book on the Sacrament of Penance based on modern Catholic sources. My friends in the Nashdom and Cowley communities drew their spiritual strength under God from such sources.

8. SOME WITNESSES TO THE TRUTH

But here again I had to face the question of obedience to the Faith. This latter was the fruit of the experience of a Benedictine Abbot, the turning point of which had been his conversion to Rome as a deacon at St. Pancras” Church in London, in the days when a predecessor of my uncle, Bishop Paget, was Vicar. In answering Bishop Gore’s accusations of “pride,” etc., against the Catholic Church of today, he began by repeating in all simplicity the only kind of invitation to share her mission that the Church of Christ has ever given:”You are serving Him in your way, we serve Him in His.” And a clergyman friend had told me of the submission to Rome for conscience” sake of Bishop Kinsman (a graduate of my own college, Keble) after seeing the effect of attempting to apply the sacramental and hierarchical principles of the Oxford Movement to the realities of American Episcopalian Church life. Dr. Pusey, it was true, had remained an Anglican, but there was a tradition at Oxfordthat after Newman’s conversion he was never seen to smile again. Moreover, since a widower, Archdeacon of Chichester, became a Catholic, and Cardinal Archbishop of Westminster, clergymen of all denominations, married and unmarried, had been making their submission at an average rate of one a month in England alone. Monsignor Ronald Knox, then stationed at Oxford, was the son of a Bishop; Robert Hugh Benson had been the son of an Archbishop of Canterbury.

Among the Eastern schismatics, too, God had not left Himself without witnesses to the necessity of Catholic unity, from the Greek Bishop Bessarion, when his fellow-bishops repudiated the reunion of the Council of Florence, to various Indian Bishops in my own time, men whose birth or position seemed to mark them out as perpetuators of heresy or schism, but who had heard and followed a Voice to which all around them were deaf (as the Russian Bishop Meletzev did recently, since Stalin re-established the Church). Millions of men and women (now organized as Uniate Churches) have thus been brought back to Catholic unity. Nor does the Catholic who holds the doctrine (Unam Sanctam) that it is objectively necessary for everyone to be subject to the Roman Pontiff thereby relegate to damnation those who in all sinceritybelieve otherwise, as I had learned from Karl Adam’s book, The Spirit of Catholicism. It is the Church’s enemies, not her theologians, who thus interpret this doctrine, ignoring its theological context and its continuity with the Athanasian Creed, and with Our Lord’s teaching that all who reject Christianity itself will be condemned (Mark 16, 16): the doctrine of invincible ignorance illumines much of the teaching of Christ and His Church, and its wide application is the measure of the charitableness of theologians.

9. THE CHURCH IN THE NEW TESTAMENT

Moreover, the more I studied the New Testament, the more convinced I was that it is of the essence of Christianity to be infallibly taught as a complete body of doctrine to a unique body of followers, the People of God, the cross section of humanity portrayed in the Parables as good and bad fish, wheat and tares, all mixed up until the Last Judgement. It was also the Mystical Body of Christ, in which name the Epistles echo Our Lord’s burning words to the man who thought he was persecuting a human organization: “Saul, Saul, why are you persecuting Me?”

And the more I learned of history, the more clearly I saw that human society was healthy or unhealthy according to whether or not it allowed itself to be leavened, not by Christian individuals or by sects cut off from the Body, but by that divine and human Thing itself. For example, “In England it was the Church rather than the State that led the way to national unity, through its common organization, its annual synods, and its tradition of administration. In the political sphere the Anglo-Saxon culture was singularly barren of achievement . . . Benedictine Abbeys were not only the intellectual and religious leaders of Europe, but also the chief centres of material culture and of artistic and industrial activity . . . the monks made it their business to clear the forests and drain the fens and to establish flourishing settlements” (Dawson: “The Making of Europe,” Sheed & Ward, London, 1936). At Evesham I had under my eyes a microcosm of this Europe, the “Merrie England” that had been. The local tradition was to the effect that Our Lady had founded the Abbey of Evesham and through it the town; by appearing there to St. Egwin, seventh century Bishop of Worcester, and moving him to become first Abbot of the monks who were to pray and work on this hallowed ground until the Reformation. In that little portion of Mary’s Dowry I learned so to love her that I eventually took her all-powerful name at my Confirmation, and there, too, I was drawn closer to her Son by the devotion to His Sacred Heart, which arose in what are known to historians as the Benedictine centuries.

10. THE CHURCH IN HISTORY

But to revert to what I was learning of the Church’s role in history. By the end of the Middle Ages, she had obtained the abolition of slavery, step by step, against the vested interests of the ruling class, but in proportion as her social activity was rejected it was always coming back under new forms: Of the capitalist industrialism of his time, Southey had said: “The slave trade was a mercy compared with this.” And Belloc’s prophecy of a new transition from citizenship to slavery was already coming true in Italy, Germany and Russia, as it has since in Poland and other countries virtually annexed by Russia, and as it threatens (under Governments representing the majority of the people) to do in Australia and in England at the time of writing. What lesson does the history of the nominally Christian Roman Empire teach us here? “Under the later Empire the Church came more and more to take the place of the old civic organization as the organ of popular consciousness. It was not itself the cause of the downfall of the city state, which was perishing from its own weakness, but it provided a substitute through which the life of the people could find new modes of expression. . . . The citizenship of the future lay in membership of the Church. In the Church the ordinary man found material and economic assistance and spiritual liberty. The opportunities for spontaneous social activity and free co-operation which were denied by the bureaucratic despotism of the State continued to exist in the spiritual society of the Church, and consequently the best of the thought and practical ability of the age were devoted to its service” (Making of Europe, p. 35). Again today, the real leaders of men, as far as the Catholic minority were concerned, were not their politicians, but their Bishops.

On the destiny of men in most countries and nations I found plenty of food for thought, and not least in Shakespeare’s plays, deeply impregnated as they are with the Catholic view of life. “Middle Ages Catholicism was abolished, so far as Actsof Parliament could abolish it, before Shakespeare, the noblest product of it, made his appearance,” as Carlyle wrote in”the Hero as Poet”; and I saw him draw Catholic lessons from stories of every age when I attended from nearby Evesham, a whole season’s repertoire at Stratford-on-Avon. The contemporary world, too, was a stage, but some of its scenes were of a sterner reality: bishops, priests, brothers, nuns, were being added in Spain to the age-old list of Christian martyrs. In England, as Dr. Inge has written in the Fortnightly Review, “The Public was deliberately misled by mendacious propaganda” (quoted in The Bulletin, Sydney, 2nd April, 1947), Anglican dignitaries taking a leading part, in the teeth of exposures by the Dean and such authorities on Spain as Prof. Peers, of Liverpool University (a devout Anglican). When the priests of Russia were being “liquidated” twenty years before, the Pope had stood by them in word and deed, as a fellow-Christian, though they were not in communion with him. When the leaders of the Church I was serving saw their fellow-Christians in Spain threatened with the same fate, they were silent or (as a non-Catholic layman expressed it, in discussing a later instance of the kind) “Preferred to their Christian ministry that of Antichrist.”

11. HELPS ON THE ROAD (OR VARIOUS INFLUENCES)

Influences in the realm of reason are hard enough to assess: the graces that lead from reason’s probabilities (for Catholicism and against any other religious allegiance) to the certainty of Faith are known to God alone. So I shall simply record, with gratitude, the bare facts that I discovered after my conversion, that Catholic friends had long been praying for it. In holiday times in the year preceding it I had been to several of the holy places of the old world: Glastonbury, with its memories of St. Joseph of Arimathea, the Holy Grail, and the other Arthurian legends, and of its great Abbey, which gave England so many saints and statesmen, until the Reformation decreed its death; Ars, where the parish priest, St. John Vianney, had fulfilled, before the incredulous eyes of the modern world, Our Lord’s promise to His representatives: “The works that I do, he shall do, and greater than these shall he do”; Paray-le-Monial, where He had appeared to St. . Margaret Mary, and told her how His Sacred Heart longs for the love of us men for whom it was broken; Lisieux, where St. Teresa of the Child Jesus had become a saint within living memory; the Cistercian (Trappist) Abbeys of Sept-Fons, where a nonCatholic guest had written in the Visitors” Book: “Here we have felt the beating of Christ’s heart,” and of Notre Dame des Dombes, whose monks had inscribed on their walls this testimony of the reigning Pope-”It is easily understood that those who discharge perpetual duties of prayer and mortification contribute much more to the growth of the Church and the salvation of mankind than those who cultivate the Lord’s field by active works.”

At the beginning of 1938 I ceased to administer the Anglican sacraments, but continued to receive them until, soon after asking for instruction in the Roman Faith, I attained to that certainty of its truth which I have been blessed with ever since: “You all shall KNOW the truth, and the truth shall make you free.” So I turned from uncovenanted to covenanted means of grace. I had seen the gulf (to be bridged by grace alone) that yawned between Catholics on the one hand and all my non-Catholic friends and mentors on the other-and they ranged from Dr. Wheller Robinson, Chairman of the Board of the Faculty of Theology (whose Congregationalist lectures on Biblical subjects belonged, like the Anglican ones given at Ripon Hall and at Jesus, to the Modernist or “earthquake” period), to the pro-Papal clergyman who thus concluded a friendlytalk on the eve of my reconciliation to the Church: “The difference between us seems to be that with you the Papal supremacy enters into the matter of the act of Faith.” This was a more crucial difference than one, for example, about the arguments for the Immaculate Conception (incidentally, a lecturer at one Anglican seminary in Oxford thought it meant that Mary was conceived without human intercourse). For becoming a Catholic is not a question of satisfying one’s devotional bent, or of coming in out of the wet in the political, sociological, or any other order of human things. It is the facing of a challenge, a personal challenge, from a Person one loves: “If you all love Me, you all will keep My commandments.” He commands us, among other things, to love the brotherhood (I Peter 2), His one Church, His Spouse, and to prove love by obedience: “He that hears you hears Me, and he that despises you despises Me. . . .”

12. RECEPTION

In my last Oxford vacation I had the privilege of staying at Mount Melleray Abbey, home of the Irish sons of St. Bernard, where I came once more upon the very heart of the Church, and found it to be none other than the heart of Our Lord, the same Sacred Heart that St. John had been so close to at the Last Supper, and that I had learned to love at my mother’s knee. Returning to Oxford, I was taken under the hospitable roof of Fr. Leo O”Hea, S.J., at the Catholic Workers” College-unemployed though I was, and not yet a Catholic!! How happy I was in that last term, receiving instructions from Fr. Victor White, O.P., attending Mass, saying Vespers and other parts of the Divine Office, and writing the thesis which was the fruit of my special studies. For the latter I received the degree of Bachelor of Letters, and have published in the Melbourne quarterly, Twentieth Century (March, 1948). the portions of it which correct some longstanding errors of the Rev. Dr. Sparrow Simpson and other writers on Bossuet and the subject matter of his works.

But again I anticipate. A few days before this, the catechumen had been absolved from heresy and schism and all his other sins, by a man to whom the keys of the Kingdom, the august powers of Holy Order and Jurisdiction over His subjects had been lawfully entrusted by Christ our King; and the next day, at Holy Communion, he entered into the completeness of union with the Head and all members of the Mystical Body of Christ, including those whose membership is invisible and un-statistical. It was the feast of Pentecost.

13. SUBSEQUENT REFLECTIONS

And have your Pentecostal expectations been realized? a reader may ask. As regards my own person, the piece of twisted metal that I brought to the Church to be twisted straight, I answer: As well as can be expected. Among my fellowCatholics, I have seen the happiness of those who seek first the Kingdom of God, especially the young apostles whose daily work has been transformed by Catholic Action ideals, and the unhappiness of those who having cast off the easy yoke and the light burden of Christ, no longer frequent His Holy Sacrifice and Sacraments. I have seen Ecclesia Australiana producing her first Cardinal, regenerating and civilizing eager pagan souls on her north-east frontier in New Guinea and protecting them against what Prof. Malinowski once described as the “pandemonium” of Western civilization (International Review of Missions, July, 1936), and making many conversions, too, in her five home provinces. The grace of God has taughtme to see, as never before, the workings of His Providence; to mean, as well as say, “Your will be done . . . ,” for man proposes but God disposes. We have here below no abiding city, and when our citizenship is really in heaven, all things without exception work together for good. I gratefully acknowledge that the self-same grace of God has kept my Anglican relatives and friends close to me in charity and affection.

In spite of human imperfections, I have found realized in the Catholic Church the Christian ideal expressed by St. Augustine as “In things essential unity, in things not essential liberty, in all things charity”; or, as my father used to say, “All’s love, yet all’s law.” I may add that it was a great act of courtesy and charity on the part of a great Archbishop that first reconciled my father to my conversion and hopes of being found suitable for the Catholic Priesthood. To cut a long story short, October, 1938, found me at the College of St. Bede in Rome for a year of Christian philosophy (my Anglican text-book had been a survey of philosophy by an American named Durant).

14. MY SPIRITUAL HOME

“All Christian pilgrimages must end in Rome,” says H. V. Morton (Through Lands of the Bible), “because alone of all the ancient patriarchates of the once Universal Church, Rome has preserved unbroken contact with the Apostolic Age.” I have been at those Masses in the catacombs that even this non-Catholic writer found so moving; and have lived long enough among students of the five continents doing higher studies in Rome to know that the Church is still Universal as well as Roman. I have served a West Australian Monsignor’s Mass at the tomb of St. Peter on his great high feast . . . and when next I heard from him he was Brother Jerome, leading the hidden life of a missionary hermit in the West Indies; kept a night-watch over the body of a Pope, and seen a new one, blacklisted by the Nazi and Fascist press, triumphantly elected to the Holy See. I have rejoiced with an Australian priest over his first Mass, offered at the tomb of St. Paul, and among the Benedictines who serve the magnificent Basilica which enshrines that tomb I have found a spiritual home, being enrolled among the Oblates of that Abbey-priests and clerics, laymen and women, bachelors and fathers of families, who try this way to make their whole life revolve around the liturgical worship of God.

I cannot close without a word of gratitude for blessings received at Whitlands, Victoria, where I saw a church arise and an integrally Christian community grow up around it and its priest, under the inspiration of St. Benedict and St. Francis and of an uncompromising Australian disciple of both. They have kept their spiritual roots and lost their contact with the existing order of society, instead of preserving their social contacts and losing their spiritual roots, which Christopher Dawson presents to the Christian in our post-Christian world as a more and more urgent choice. This means, among other things, helping one another to produce the necessities of life by manual labour-the dignity of which I am glad to have learned by actual practice.

And, finally, an acknowledgement of my debt to New Norcia Abbey, whose Spanish founder, Bishop Salvado, brought to Australia the Benedictine missionary tradition of Pope St. Gregory the Great and St. Augustine of Canterbury; with results that won for him Florence Nightingale’s admiration and the lasting friendship of Lord Forrest: and whose present community’s prayer and work, at the Abbey and at its Mission on the north coast of West Australia, have wrought more things in peace and in war than their adopted country dreams of.

15. READING MATTER

And now a word about books. As it was in the beginning, when St. Peter wrote the first Papal Encyclical (1st Epistle of Peter) and St. Paul was forming saints and correcting sinners in every part of the Gentile world, so now a man needs no books, but only the humility to which God gives grace, to recognize the City set on a hill. But to those who read books, and yet no Catholic books, or not enough to offset the unconscious prejudice of the modern man against the ancient Faith, I recommend the reading of some of the books quoted above, and below. I must beg the reader not to think that the few quotations made in passing exhaust the matters with which they deal (you cannot take Catholicism up in a teacup, as Newman once observed), or that I have been engaged in comparing Catholicism with Anglicanism, as a reader of another draft of this pamphlet thought (a more savage draft which found no publisher). I assure the reader that, like Lord Cecil, I regard the Church as an Evangelist, whose Message is beyond all comparison, and that I think it a Christian duty to warn men against all institutions which keep them from hearing the full message, but especially against those I know by personal experience, and to pass on gratefully to others the helps to hearing the full message that individuals in those institutions have given me. I regret that it is necessary to explain also that I regardsuch men as Our Lord’s friends, and therefore mine, and had no more intention than Lord Cecil of questioning their sincerity when I quoted his letter denouncing Our Lord’s enemies.

As a matter of fact, I am so convinced of their sincerity that I think they would turn at once to the Church if they saw that “the Churches” are a device of the devil for dividing the friends of Christ and bewildering the souls of those they have yet to win to Him. I regard it as a work of charity to them to remind them that our common Master foresaw all these things, and has given His disciples not only a warning against them, but a remedy: “Behold, Satan has desired to have you [He is addressing Peter, but the “you” is plural, as the Greek text shows] that he may sift you as wheat. But I have prayed for thee, that thy faith fail not: and thou, being once converted, confirm thy brethren” (Luke 22: 31–32).

Let us see the situation clearly, and see it whole. Protestants of all denominations rejoice, and rightly so, that their foreign missions, each according to its lights, win for Christ many souls in whom grace triumphs over the scandal of division. But as an example of the other side of the story, I will just mention that Protestant Liberal theology, disseminated by the printing presses of Cairo as Christian support for the Moslem view of Christ, has been holding up the conversion of the Middle East for half a century.

16. AMAZING MISREPRESENTATION

Shortly before my conversion I was sent a book by Canon Maynard, Continuity of the Church of England: its defence of Anglicanism consists largely of a caricature of 16thcentury Catholicism, a “revelation” of scandals and abuses, unrelated to the Council of Trent, at which they were admitted by all (including the Papal Legates who presided), denounced and reformed. They will be found in their proper place in any Catholic history or in such a work as the Cambridge Modern History. If we were to be regaled with so many details of the court life of a Borgia prince who intruded himself into the priesthood and the papacy, might we not have heard a little of the reformed and reforming Borgia who became General of the Jesuits and a saint? Or been referred to the life of St. Pius V, the Pope who did so much to reform Europe, and excommunicated Queen Elizabeth when she proved impenitent in her claim to be supreme governor in England of the Church of the living God? Or to a life of a few others among the saints, over a hundred in number, that the “Roman” Church produced just before and during the “Reformation” period? Will our author go to none but Protestant sources for his explanation of the English Reformation? Unto Caesar he shall go. It was “engendered in lust, brought forth in hypocrisy and perfidy, and nourished and fed by plunder, devastation, and rivers of innocent English and Irish blood” (William Cobbett, a Member of Parliament in the days when that privilege was reserved to Anglicans).

“Love men, slay their errors,” said St. Augustine, whom so many followed to the Truth which he had found. “Neither in the confusion of the pagans, nor in the sweepings of the heretics, nor in the feebleness of the schismatics, nor in the blindness of the Jews, is religion to be sought, but only among those who are called Catholic or orthodox Christians, that is, keepers and right followers of the whole truth” (Augustine: De Vera Religione). When an Anglican Archbishop earnestly commends to his readers the long-discredited anti-Jesuit sweepings of Continuity of the Church of England, and an Anglican Primate solemnly warns the people of Adelaide that “political Romanism” is one of their most fearful perils, heresy stands revealed in all its destitution, and we may well sympathize with Mr. Stanley High, a Congregationalist minister, who recently deplored this sort of thing in an appeal (in theReaders’ Digest) for something more positive from his fellowProtestants: “ . . . The really vital matter is that for the modern man the Roman Catholic Church has something to offer which Protestantism isn’t offering.”

17. MASONRY

Another institution whose errors make men strangers, and sometimes enemies, to revealed truth, is Masonry. I was not a member myself, but saw enough of its influence during my Anglican ministry to think it worth while at the time to read a book by an English Non-conformist, Rev. C. P. Hunt, B.A., entitled The Menace of Freemasonry to the Christian Faith, making the following notes from it: “The Solomon so much admired by Masons, having built a temple to Jehovah, (Yahweh) (the only true God) proceededto permit the worship of Baal therein. . . .”The broad-minded Solomon” . . . ; (Masons take over St. Paul’s name for the Church) “the household of the Faith.” . . . Other writers filch such texts as “living stones” and “fitly framed together,” cutting out the phrase “Christ the chief corner-stone”. . . . (filching also) “the gates of hell shall not prevail against it.” . . . The evidence is over-whelming that the Craft takes the place of the Church. . . . It is the most glaring case of schism . . . I have received letters from all parts of the country from ministers testifying that such (frustration of their Christian ministry) is the local effect of Masonry . . . The Bishop of Bradford . . . stated that if the documentary evidence of this book were substantiated, he would have to reconsider his relationship to the Craft. . . .”

18. TO REBUILD THE WORLD

I have “kept at my thesis”: this pamphlet is its bibliography. I regarded it as a much greater service to the Christian cause to offer such a reading list to the Australian public than to write lesser books myself. My thesis points to the Catholic Church for the strength by which our Empire and the civilization of the West “might yet be saved” and the sacrifices of our sailors, soldiers and airmen in the last war made fruitful. This conviction arises not from bigotry, but from what I know of the past history and present state of the portion of humanity that forms this once Christian civilization. The Church alone dispenses the graces that convert whole nations: she who is converting kingdoms in Africa would give to us, if we were willing, similar graces. The first of these would surely be repentance for sins which cry to heaven for vengeance: for example, our attitude to war on women and children at home (Australian homes are being broken up in the Divorce Courts at an average rate of twenty a day) and abroad. The eminent scientist, Sir David Rivett, describes the Allies” abuse of atomic research in the recent war as “ghastly,” but the public is apparently not interested in the moral implications of such things. Nothing but the stark supernatural stands up for our salvation, as Chesterton put it when explaining the Dark Ages as a necessary purgatory between the corrupt paganism of the ancient world and the new Christian civilization of the Middle Ages (St. Francis, p. 35).

It is not, of course the cultural darkness, but the moral light, of the Dark Ages that we must seek again. Modern civilization springs, on its non-religious side, from the Renaissance-the re-birth, as Ruskin reminds us, of pagan pride; it has now brought in its train, one after another, all the old phenomena of pagan cruelty and sensuality. “The sins of the world, especially now sins of the flesh, cry to heaven for vengeance. Do penance, say the Rosary, practice devotion to my Immaculate Heart. If men amend their lives, God will spare the world. If my requests are observed, Russia will be converted and there will be peace. . . .” (The Blessed Virgin at Fatima, in the year of the first Communist Revolution.)

Catholicity is the God-laid foundation on which men are meant to build their world: they may ignore it (and come to grief thereby), but it alone abides of the things that are seen. This was the message of Soloviev, vividly illustrated in the last of his books (Three Dialogues) by a scene showing the end of the world. Over against the unity of Antichrist and the apostates, the last Pope (Peter II) and the Catholics are chanting imperturbably: “They shall not prevail.” The Metropolitan John and the Professor Paul bring their followers, Orthodox and Protestant, to join them. The true unity of men is consummated. A light shines, a sign appears in the heavens: a Woman clothed with the sun. The Pope leads the flock towards Mary, and the glory of God.

St. Michael, via Madang, New Guinea, Epiphany, 1948.

Nihil Obstat:

WILLIAM M. COLLINS, D.D., Censor Deputatus.

Imprimatur:

@ D. MANNIX,

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis * * * * * * * *

The Cruise of A Soul

BY ALBERT MUTHUMALAI, S.J

INDEX

I.

ON THE HIGH SEAS

Yes; in the sea of life en-isled,

With echoing straits between us thrown,

Dotting the shoreless watery wild,

We mortal millions live alone,

MATTHEW ARNOLD

Man’s mind is made for truth, and it is restless till it attains to it. When errors glide into a man’s religious system, he can be compared to a ship without a rudder or compass tossed about in the storm. Although all men are made for religious truth, all do not arrive at it during their life-time; and among those who seek to embrace it not two minds follow the same path. Hence the story of every conversion to the Church is a spiritual pilgrimage which has its own attractions and appeals.

Since many have asked me to write the story of my own conversion to the Church, I made up my mind to narrate it for the benefit of those who may be interested; my spiritual pilgrimage is a passage from Protestantism to Catholicism. I was brought up in the city of Madras in Protestant surroundings. My parents were members of the Church of England; they had me baptised and confirmed in that Church, and I was taught the Anglican Catechism and the Thirty-nine Articles like the rest of my playmates. At the time I knew only one form of Christianity and no other. I believed that God had become man in the Person of Jesus Christ to teach men ‘the way of Salvation and Light’ and to save them from their sins. Christianity taught men the truths of Christ and made them Christians by the Sacrament of Baptism. Christ had also instituted the Sacrament called the Lord’s Supper which I understood to be a symbol or pledge of Christian fellowship.

At home I learnt to love Our Lord intensely, to read the Bible every day and to be faithful to my morning and evening prayers. My parents were pious and honest folk who grounded into me correct moral principles at a very early age. In whatever part of the country we were, attendance at Sunday services was newer omitted and we spent the ‘Sabbath Day of the Lord’ in a fitting manner. Sunday morning services were usually long, chiefly due to lengthy sermons, but I was never bored by them. They were usually very interesting, .and to ensure our attention to the Preacher, we children, were questioned as to the texts and the various points of the sermon after returning from Church. In general, servile works were not encouraged at home on Sundays; but we never felt at a loss as to what to do; we read through more chapters of the Bible than usual, also the Collect, the Gospel and the Epistle of the day from the Book of Common Prayer. Further, Sundays were made more joyful by singing hymns from the Hymns Ancient and Modern and the Songs and Solos. Every day throughout the year we had at least one family prayer at night before supper, when a chapter of the Bible was read, and one or two Psalms were recited in common; After which one of the members of the family prayed aloud while everyone was on his knees. In such pious surroundings I attained the age of reason, and spent many happy years without anxiety or doubt.

Later on, when I was in my teens, I began to see that Anglicanism was not the only form of Christianity existing in this country; in the town where I was there were other Christian Churches which we did not attend. From my clergyman, my school-masters and my friends I got an explanation which was calculated to make me loyal to the Church of my Baptism. The Roman Catholic Church, I was told, was the religion established by Christ; she preached the pure doctrine of the Gospel during the first eight centuries, when she could be compared to the White Horse of the Apocalypse, (Rev. VI, 2), whose rider went forth conquering and to conquer. From the seventh century onwards the Church was persecuted by the sword of Islam which was the Real Horse of the Apocalypse (Rev. VI, 4). During the dark ages the Church became more and more corrupt, until about the thirteenth century the Holy Ghost abandoned her, but worked in the souls of a few individuals who were saved in spite of their religion. This state of affairs is represented by the Black Horse (Rev. VI, 5), whose rider had a pair of balances in his hand which symbolised the exacting Pharisaism of the Medieval religion.

Then, as in the time of Moses and the Prophets, God took pity an the poor deluded human beings and inspired Luther, Calvin and the Sovereign of England to restore the Christian Church to its pristine purity. These reformers were symbolised by the three Angels of the Apocalypse (Rev. XIV, 6–9). Here again the genius of the English people made them retain all the truths divesting them of all errors, while the continental reformers in their misguided zeal destroyed even true doctrines. This explanation seemed to me to be so plausible, so well supported by Spiritual Prophecies, that I gave it an unfaltering assent for over six years.

The more I studied these questions, the more horrid the Roman Church appeared in my eyes. I was told that Catholics do not pray to God but mumble a few prayers to the Saints and stickto a few superstitions. The Pope was the ‘Man of Sin’ and the words ‘Vicarius Filii Dei’ stood for the number 666; :the Roman Church was the Scarlet Woman. When such explanations are given to a young man in his teens, he cannot be expected to make a fair enquiry about the Church. At first my feelings were bitter against the Catholic Church; but later on I began to pity the poor Catholics. “If I only could talk to them,” I thought, “and make them reasonable, they would give up their superstitions.”

Unfortunately for me during my High- School days I never came across a Catholic, and if I had met one, I would have avoided him as I would avoid the Evil One. I remember during this period, whenever I had to pass in front of a Catholic Church, I walked on the extreme opposite side of the road close to the drain, and when just in front of the Church I would make one Sign of the Cross on my forehead and mutter a prayer to God asking for courage and strength to avoid Rome and its superstitions.

Starting from such premises the Anglican Church alone stood for logic and purity of doctrines. There was only one doctrine that really mattered to me: it was my salvation in and through Christ Our Lord. He was the One Dominant Personality that commanded my attention and the One Distinct Voice that could be heard in the Babel of confusion. To follow Him meant observing the moral code laid down in the Gospels. All the Protestant sermons that I heard, the books that I read, and the intense spiritual atmosphere of my home tended to foster a great personal devotion to Our Lord which has remained the chief solace of my life except for one passing moment of doubt.

It came about in this way: about the year 1918 Modernism was beginning to make its inroads among the ranks of the Anglican Clergy in India. Same of the Pastors and a few of the laity had openly denied the Divinity of Christ. This weakened my conviction and caused me any amount of anxiety and distress. I began to enquire and study both sides of the question: If Christ was not God, I had no use for Him; I would rather become a Mohammedan than call myself a Christian after denying the Divinity of Christ. But on the other hand Christ claimed to be God and performed miracles to prove His claim. Then there was the irrefutable fact of His Resurrection and over and above all these, the early Christian Church had proclaimed Him to be God and worshipped Him as such. Could all these Christians have been wrong and only a handful of German Scholars be right? After a period of enquiry I confessed my faith in Him: “My Lord and My God.”

II

WITHOUT KEEL OR COMPASS Heaven help us! ‘twos a thing beyond

Description wretched; such a wherry

Perhaps never ventured on a pond,

Or crossed a ferry.

For ploughing in the salt-sea field

It would have the boldest shudder,

Untarred, uncompassed and unkeeled,

No sail, no rudder.

THOMAS CAMPBELL. Youth is a period of religious thinking. Many a young man studies the religious problem for himself and arrives at some general principles which remain through life as a lodestar according to which he orders his conduct. The solution of the religious problem is no easy task: while in some cases the young man arrives at religious principles without ever seeming to take them seriously, there are others who pass through a mental storm before they accept any definite conclusion.

In the latter portion of my teens I aimed at chalking out for myself a plan of life according to which I might order my life in the Anglican Church. What should be my attitude towards the Church of my Baptism? Should I be an exclusive or comprehensive Anglican? In other words, should I attend only Anglican services or attend services of all Protestant Churches? At the beginning I began by vowing myself ultra-loyal to the Church of England; I attended only Anglican services and looked down upon the other Protestants whom we scornfully called Dissenters. But I could not hold on to this rigid form of Anglicanism for long. It is all well and good for an Englishman in England to assume such an attitude; but I could not see what reason an Indian had to do so. Further the doctrines and the atmosphere of the Dissenters were not far different from those of the Low Church Anglicans. But my chiefest reason for giving up that attitude was the contrary tendency fostered by a new movement spreading among, the rising generation of Protestants.

After the Great War there was a cry for the reunion of all the Churches, as if by this gesture of fraternal understanding they would wipe out the mutual enmity and hatred, exhibited outing the war. About this time Dr. Azarias, Bishop of Dornakal, returned from a tour in Europe and we feted him in the Y.M.C.A. auditorium. He gave a stirring speech in which he paid growing tributes to Anglican army-chaplains who gave Communion to the Dissenting soldiers in the trenches and advised the young men to scatter to the winds all sectarian and denominational differences and to take part in the services of all denominations. This seemed to one to be a magnificent ideal. Thus there grew up a body of young men who prided themselves on being comprehensive and attended different Churches by turns.

A certain distinguished Protestant gentleman who had toured round Europe told us in a lecture that he had received Communion in every kind of Christian Church he came across in his travels. From that time on I went to as many services as I possibly could every Sunday and thus came to know something of Lutherans, Methodists, Baptists, Adventists and Presbyterians. But then a new difficulty presented itself to me: if I thought I was doing a good turn to different sects of Christianity by attending their different worships, why not do the same good turn to different religions as well? For some time I had attended the lectures of Mrs. Annie Besant and other Theosophists and I seemed to see the logical conclusion of my comprehensiveness realised by them. Every religion, they said, has some truth and every religious founder has contributed same lasting heritage to the world. It is the duty of every man to form a synthesis of the truths that he likes and build a religion of his own. Some modernised Hindus who have studied the Bible in a Protestant College practise this kind of religion. At this stage of my religious evolution I realised that my comprehensiveness must stop somewhere. I believed firmly in the unique Redeemer of mankind, Jesus Christ the incarnate God. This fact made me conclude that I must find my modus vivendi within Christianity and not outside of her.

Within the pale of Christianity also I could not continue to be comprehensive for long. In the first place receiving Communion in various denominational Churches was impossible. The Anglican and Methodist clergyman may tolerate such practices, or even recommend such practices. But other Anglicans thought that Anglicanism stood for some definite clear-cut principlea via media. The Lutherans, Baptists and Adventists did not encourage such comprehensiveness; they would not give Communion indiscriminately to everyone. Each one of these bodies taught a distinct code of doctrines as true, and there was no vagueness about their teaching. The Lutheran would make a Lutheran of an Anglican before admitting him to Communion. The Baptist and the Seventh Day Adventist would first administer Baptism by immersion to any Anglican or Methodist and then only consider him fit to partake of the Lord’s Supper. Then again how far was this comprehensiveness to extend? Are we to include in our list of Churches to be attended Roman Catholic Churches also? The answer to this question seemed to be unanimous that Rome was to be excluded. Even supposing the Anglican clergy allowed their laity to attend Catholic worship, would the Catholic priests be flattered by such indifferentism? I came to the conclusion that in practice such comprehensiveness was impossible.

But then the question remained and the divisions among the Christians were a source of scandal. It was a Hindu who made me realise the force of this difficulty. Early in January 1921, when I was a first year Medical student, I happened to be travelling in a tramcar in Broadway, when a certain Protestant gentleman distributed religious handbills to all the passengers and began to speak to the Hindus about Our Lord and His claims. A fat Brahmin (probably a Lawyer) who was sitting by my side slapped him abruptly and told him: “What is the use of your .preaching Christianity to us when you Christians are not agreed among yourselves? The Lutherans preach a different set of doctrines from .the Baptists and both of them differ from the Anglicans. You don’t even agree on the essentials; you cannot get an unanimous answer to this fundamental question: whether Christ was God or not. Before you come and preach to us, go and try to have some sort of unity among yourselves. We have enough causes of disunion in this country; why should you bring in one more source of discord?” These words seemed to have their desired effect; for the lay apostle remained silent till he got down at the next stop-probably a few stages before his real destination.

This incident made me think very deeply for many days. Frown that time I had a vague idea that there must be a solution to this problem. If God became incarnate to redeem man and to teach him the way of salvation, He must have left some clear-cut way for man to follow. It consoled one to think that the love and mercy which induced Him to redeem mankind must also prompt Him to make that way easy of access to man.

III 0’ER UNCHARTERED SEAS Henceforth wherever thou mayest roam,

My blessing like a line of light,

Is on the waters day and night;

And like a beacon guards thee home.

So may whatever tempest mars,

Mid ocean spare thee, sacred bark;

And balmy drops in summer dark,

Slide from the bosom of the stars.

LORD TENNYSON

During the latter half of the year 1921, I was a second year student of Medicine, when I came across newer problems which threw me into greater perplexity. Comprehensiveness was untenable in practice, and so I resolved to cling to Anglicanism. But then what is its teaching or, to be more accurate, where is the Anglican Faith? The first answer which every Protestant gives an enquirer is: “the Bible, the whole Bible and nothing but the Bible.” Here was something tangible in the midst of shifting sands.

One day I chanced upon a Commentary of the Bible by an Anglican Divine (if I am not mistaken it was Drummelow’s One-Volume Commentary) and learnt for the first time that the History of the Sacred Book did not permit the uses to which it is put. To the modern Protestant the Bible is a Sacred Oracle which he consults whenever he wants to know what exactly Christ taught. It is the only connecting link between the first and the twentieth centuries. But Christ Our Lord, the Founder of Christianity, never asked the Apostles to write the Bible and distribute copies of it to the people. In fact He told the Apostles to go and preach to all nations and they obeyed this injunction most faithfully: they had never seen the Bible themselves, so the early Christians were contented with hearing sermons and explanations. The Bible, as a collection of sacred writings, came into existence in the fourth century of the Christian era; therefore according to Protestant ways of thinking there were no Christians before the fourth century, since no one had read the whole Bible.

Till the invention of printing, Bibles were written by hand on parchment and so must have been sold for very high prices; as a result the poor people must have saved their souls without ever handling the Bible. We know that there were many Christians, before the invention of printing and after, who did not know how to read and write; and yet they knew and practised the precepts of the Gospels.

Evidently there was another method of knowing Christian truths more readily accessible than the Bible. To this the Protestant answered that now that we have the Scriptures we must make use of them. To my great surprise however I discovered that this slogan, “‘the Bible and nothing but the Bible,” had not the least shred of proof in support of it. The Bible never mentions a word about its self-sufficiency; the Apostles neither claimed nor taught such a belief. It was Martin Luther who for the first time announced such a novel doctrine that the Bible alone contained all things necessary unto salvation and every man had to read it to find for himself what he has to believe. To me it seemed that this claim held its ground or collapsed with the claims of the Reformers. If the reformers were sent by God to reform the Church of God, then their teaching had a claim on us: if it was only their private whim or fancy, I had no use for it. The Reformers had brought into the world a new prerogative for the Bible and a declaration of the infallibility of private judgment and we see the result of such a teaching today.

Every Protestant reads the Bible to find out for himself what Christ taught and yet no two Protestants arrive at the same conclusion. The Lutheran derives his doctrine as much from the Bible as the Seventh Day Adventist, or the Anglican, or the Baptist, and yet they do not agree. It seemed to me that in practice it was impossible to be a Bible Protestant.

The Bible is a dumb book which gives no clues as to what it means. There are many texts and sayings of Our Lord which could be interpreted in diverse ways, according as we take the figurative or literal or prophetic meaning of those words; there is no criterion for me to find out that I have the correct meaning and not the false one. The criterion must be somewhere outside the book.

Protestants generally claim that the Bible is such a simple book that “he who runs may read.” The very existence of conflicting sects disproves this assertion. There are many passages both in the Old and the New Testaments which are abstruse; some are prophetical; others symbolical, and to find out the meaning of some others we have to go to the original language used by the Sacred Writers. All this implies scholarship and it will be too much of a presumption to say that every Protestant is an exegete.

Then there was the rising school of Higher Criticism and Modernism; these scholars treated the Bible in the same way as we treat our daily newspapers; they were more bent on denials than affirmations,. They denied the doctrines of the Trinity, the Incarnation and the Inspiration of the Scriptures. Looking at Anglicanism from its commencement until the present day I could see nothing logical or consistent in it. At the beginning they treated the King of England as the Pope of the Church of England until they brought King Charles I to the block. Then they treated the Bible as the Oracle of Delphi, but today they are preparing to lay the Bible on the block. There was no knowing what the Church of England would be doing tomorrow. Today she denies, or allows her minister to deny, with impunity what were considered fundamental doctrines a century ago. Yesterday it was a sign of orthodoxy to avow the Divinity of Christ; today you are free to deny it, and tomorrow you will be free to deny that Christ ever existed, but was only the hero of a short story written to serve as an ideal for weak human beings. I won’t be surprised if fifty years hence an Atheist is made a Bishop of the Church of England. Why not? That’s progress. The Atheist Bishop will say that the sentiments of men need some visible rites to console them-so saying he will go on to perform the functions of his office.

All through my enquiries, I clung tenaciously to my first principle that Christ had revealed the truths necessary for men’s salvation. At one time I had been an enthusiastic admirer of the doctrine of private judgment; but as months sped along I began to be suspicious of it. If all the Christians knew the truths revealed by Christ, there should be unity of belief among them: on the contrary there was nothing more flagrant than disunion. In a word, private judgment brought into the world more discord than agreement; it was the very root-principle of disunion.

Many Protestants claim that if a man reads the Bible prayerfully he will arrive unto the fulness of truth. I know many pious Protestants who read the Bible prayerfully every day, even many hours every day, and yet what each one calls truth is diametrically opposed to the conclusions arrived at by another. Evidently the Holy Ghost is not directing each and every individual. The strong belief in private judgment makes the Protestant Minister egotistical and self-centred. Often he rejects a proposition with this simple assurance, “I don’t like it” and never worries to find out whether Our Lord meant it to be so. If he is a clever dialectician he may carry a whole parish along with him, but this loyalty of the people will last so long as no other cleverer dialectician holding different views came to disturb the flock.

IV SHIP AHOY! But soon I heard the dash of oars,

I heard the Pilot’s Cheer

My head was turned perforce away

And I saw a boat appear

S. E. COLERIDGE

However independent men may be in their ways of talking and acting they still have great regard for authority. Many a man may boast that he would never allow himself to be led by the nose by another man, but in practice we see how eager he is to take cover under the shadow of a great name. Let him but sit down to write a book; he hunts up libraries and second-hand book-stalls to show the readers that what he says is nothing new but has already been said by Macaulay or Gladstone or some other equally great personage. The greater the person quoted as authority, the more readily the hearers and readers accept his proposition. In religious questions, however, the greatest authority we can have is God Himself. When a person realises that God has revealed certain truths, it is his duty to find out what those truths are and to accept them and not to consult his own whims and fancies.

When my faith in the Bible as the sole oracle of truth got shaken badly, I looked around to see any trusty guide, and Anglicanism as a religious body was all I could see within my horizon. One day, in the latter portion of the year 1921, I happened to be talking to an Anglican clergyman when he told me that the glory of the Anglican Church lay in the fact that she included every kind of belief. “Some Anglicans” he told me, “believed the same doctrines as the Roman Catholics; some believed in the teachings of Luther, while there were lone Churchmen who corresponded to Methodists, and Modernists who were Unitarians under a new label.” He was so eloquent about the Church he was serving that in a flight of oratory he said: “The Anglican Church includes everybody and I may truly say that she has no outside.”‘ This set me thinking seriously; this multiplicity of belief, is it a point to be gloried in or is it a sign of weakness on the part of the Ecclesiastical authorities who cannot maintain unity? If the Anglican Church has no outside, evidently she has no borderline or boundary: if she has no boundary then she has no inside. The conclusion seemed to be most perplexing.

When diverse doctrines are tolerated by the Anglican Church, none of them can be said to be the peculiar tenet of Anglicanism. Christ Our Lord told His Apostles to go and preach His doctrines to all creatures; and here I see a body which calls herself a Christian Church not obeying this injunction. She leaves the laity free to believe or deny what ever they like or dislike. Why should any man be ever told to exercise private judgment and to believe whatever he likes?

He has been doing it since his birth and long before he ever met an Anglican Missionary.

During these perplexed days I frequently visited au Anglican clergyman whom I had known for many years. He was an Englishman-an M.A. of Oxford and a Doctor of Divinity-a man of remarkable piety who exerted a great influence on the Indian young men that came in contact with him. Hs gave me an explanation of Christianity which seemed to be novel and even romantic. During the early centuries of the Christian era, he said, Christianity was pure and uncorrupt. It is our duty to imitate those early Christians. They did not go to the Bible as the only source of religious knowledge; they consulted tradition also. After all what is tradition-it is history and all our prejudices against it are ill-founded. Our aim is to know what exactly Our Lord meant when He uttered certain words which are found in the Bible. It is according to common sense to believe that the Christians of the first and second centuries understood the mind of Our Lord better than we who live in the twentieth century. Tradition or rather Church history helps us to find out what the early Christians taught and practised.

Further, he continued, the early Church was a teaching body, and it taught in the name of Christ Himself. She was very scrupulous in Her teaching and tried to avoid all novelty. When disputes arose regarding a truth the Church inquired into the matter with a view to find out which was in the deposit of revelation made by Our Lord. When she came to a conclusion that a certain proposition was wrong, the one who propounded the error either submitted to that decision or cut himself off from the Church with his followers and formed what is called a heresy.

This manner of exposing the Christian position was so logical and plausible that I had no difficulty in accepting it. But I was more than usually perplexed when I saw that the Anglican clergy did not claim to teach with Divine authority. To this difficulty another plausible solution was given. Unfortunately the Catholic Church of Christ lost the unity established by Christ Our Lord. It is now divided into three main branches: the Anglican, Roman and Eastern Catholic Churches. When these three bodies combine together they will form ‘One Holy Visible Church.’ Until that time, the Catholic Church has to be an invisible body.

But then I could not see how an invisible .and divided body could ever teach with authority. I was told that the truth was taught by the Historic Episcopate: when the Bishops came together and define a dogma it should be accepted by all the Faithful as true. But again, owing to these divisions, all the Bishops do not meet together. The theologians of all the Churches have to find out what doctrine is common to most of the Bishops of the three Communions-in other words the G.C.M. of episcopal belief. When once I had swallowed this explanation I called myself Anglo-Catholic and attended the only Anglo-Catholic Church at Madras-St. Mathias’ Church at Vapery.

My attitude towards Christianity underwent a thorough change during the period when I was an Anglo-Catholic. I no more believed in private judgment; when I made a religious enquiry it was only to find out whether a certain proposition was found in the deposit of Revelation. Since I had already believed in many doctrines in common with Roman Catholicism, all the horror of Rome which I had experienced in my younger days gradually disappeared. Later on I began even to admire the Roman Church and call her the ‘Mother Church’ of all Protestant sects. Further as a Medical student I came across many Catholic class-mates and I never found them narrow or stupid as I had expected; one of them even became a good friend of mine. Discussing religion with these Catholic class-mates I came to understand that there was much to be said in favour of Catholicism: but never once did I dream that Catholicism had a claim on me as a unique religion for all mankind. I treated it as one among the many Christian denominations.

V. THE SHIP THAT IS SIMON’S And yet, O splendid ship, unhailed and nameless

I know not if, aiming a fancy, I rightly divine

That thou hast a purpose joyful, a courage blameless

Thy port assured in a happier land than mine . . .

ROBERT BRIDGES

Anglo-Catholicism may very well be said to be the strength of Anglicanism. It is a source of strength in so far as Anglicanism has got a new lease of life from her. The Church of England began to totter, and Anglo-Catholicism became her prop and buttress by offering a new interpretation of her position and by imparting vigour to the spiritual life of her people through the establishment of monasteries and convents, by the preaching of retreats and missions and by the hearing of confessions. At the same time Anglo-Catholic theologians are ever uneasy about the weakness of her position. The rise of the Oxford Movement and the very existence of Anglo-Catholicism are a sign that the Reformation and all the principles for which it stood were either wrong or, at least, had failed. The Reformers had attacked many dogmas and discarded them as outworn superstitions. The doctrine of private judgment, the very glory of the Reformers, was replaced by submission to the authority of an invisible Church.

Such were the thoughts which haunted me during the year 1922 when I was an ardent Anglo-Catholic. I read only Anglo-Catholic books and journals and came to know all about the great Oxford Movement. One day, a clergyman with whom I was talking about this movement advised me to read Newman’s Apologia. At that time I did not find the book in any of the libraries which I frequented, and so after a brief search completely forgot about the book. A few months after this however, I saw this much desired book in the hands of a Catholic Medical student and borrowed it from him at once. That very evening I sat down and read the book and for many days afterwards I used to go through portions of it over and over again. That was the first Catholic book I had ever read in my life, and no book had produced such a deep impression on me as this one. I was at once attracted to Newman’s great personality. I accompanied him mentally from his Low Church beginnings to his ultimate submission to Rome. I saw the Roman Church standing before me as if clothed in a new garb; she was the Church established by Christ, and if she had a great claim on Cardinal Newman she had a right to my submission also.

Newman was awe-struck by the notes of the Catholic Church. She is One, Holy, Catholic and Apostolic. She preaches ONE doctrine all over the world with an unequivocal voice. Her doctrine is HOLY because it is revealed by the Incarnate God Himself; she is the cradle of HOLINESS and the Mother of Saints. Her teaching has been carried to the uttermost parts of the world and men of all nations and tribes worship at her altars: whether Negro or Japanese or Red Indian joins the Catholic Church, he has a feeling of joy for having reached home. In this sense she is Catholic or UNIVERSAL. She is the only Christian Body whose Ministers maintain an unbroken succession from Apostolic times. After the perusal of Newman’s Apologia I was literally filled with wild thoughts for many days.

Still, with these disturbing thoughts I continued to live as an Anglo-Catholic, but talked about Catholicism with my Catholic friend and class-mate. Those quiet talks on evenings helped me to understand many points about Catholicism. Though an Anglo-Catholic, I had looked on veneration of images and relics and praying for the dead as superstitions and ‘fond things vainly invented’; but my friend showed me the reasonableness of these doctrines. The reading of Newman’s book opened to me a new vista. When my prejudices against Rome had worn away, I began to read Catholic books and pamphlets and the more I read them the more I found the ground under my feet slipping away. After all, the leaders of the Oxford Movement had painfully clambered up the slope, picking up the trail along which the Reformers had slipped down, thereby showing that the work of the Reformers had to be undone. But the aim of the Oxford Movement was not to have a permanent abode anywhere; it was a movement and I saw it moving-but whither? Subconsciously I repeated the answer-to Rome. But how I wished it wasn’t true! If ever the Anglo-Catholics built a house it was either a rest-house or half-way house to Rome; for their real purpose in life, it seemed to me, was to reach Rome ultimately. I could not help remarking this fact when I heard of the innumerable Anglo-Catholics who have been making their submission to Rome every year.

About this period I chanced to visit a distant Anglican Church one Sunday morning: I stayed for the Communion service and as is the custom among the Anglo-Catholics I genuflected and made the sign of the Cross before and after receiving Holy Communion. At the end of the service a deputation of the laity and their Pastor waited outside to tell me that such Romish antics were not tolerated in their Church. Anglo-Catholicism claims to have a true interpretation of Anglicanism and yet the majority of Anglican parishes and their Pastors will have nothing to do with ‘aping the Papists.’ Anglo-Catholicism is only a party and a very small one at that, which is neither recognised by Protestants nor by Catholics. I felt my position ridiculous as I reflected in this manner. Anglo-Catholics have another argument to keep the English people loyal to their Church: each nation should have its own National Church, the Anglican Church for England and the Roman Church for Italy. According to this conception of Geographical Christianity the Indians should join the Syrian Church of Malabar which is an indigenous institution whereas the Anglican Church is foreign to India.

Further the Anglo-Catholic clergy allowed their laity to hear Mass in Roman Catholic Churches while touring through Italy or France; but the Roman Church does not allow her English members to communicate in Anglican Churches even in England. Anglican churches exist only in British territories while there are Catholic Churches in every part of the world. Does it mean that the Roman Church is the religion for tourists and the Anglican Church for stay-at-home Englishmen? Even granting that both Churches are equally true, it is not expedient that one should join the Roman Catholic Church in preference to the Anglican? After a period of internal storm I came to the conclusion that, if I did not want to make a shipwreck of my faith, I should sail the seas of life in the boat of St. Peter, , the One Holy Catholic and Apostolic Church.

VI. THE HAVEN OF PEACE Then home, get her home,

Where the drunken rollers comb,

And the shouting seas drive by

And the engines stamp and ring,

And the wet bows reel and swing,

And the Southern Cross rides high!

RUDYARD KIPLING

When once my faith in Anglicanism got shattered, I had no more use for Protestantism. Even granting for arguments’ sake that the Roman Church was wrong, what has Protestantism offered in its stead? For every single Catholic doctrine assailed by the Reformers there are a hundred opinions in its place. Which of these hundred views is the pure doctrine of primitive Christianity?

I imagined myself to be living in the XVI century about the time when Luther nailed his theses to the door of the Cathedral at Wittenberg: I am a Catholic living in Catholic surroundings and every day I hear news of the rising movement in England and Germany. I asked myself what would be my attitude towards Protestantism judging it impartially? I looked at this problem from different angles: the solution seemed to me to lie in my judgment about the Reformers. If God wanted to choose a man to carry on such an important work as that of reforming His Church, He would .have chosen a saintly person. My studies of Luther, Henry VIII, and Queen Elizabeth gave me the impression that they were far from being saints. Again I put myself .the question: Did the Roman Church need a dogmatic or disciplinary reformation? If she needed only a reform of morals, Martin Luther had committed a great blunder. He would have done better if he had started by making a general confession (internal reform) and by inducing his countrymen to do the same. Finally I came to the conclusion that if I had been brought up a Catholic in the XVI century I would never have dreamt of passing over to Protestantism

After about six months of study in books I made up my mind to study Catholicism in real life. My Catholic friend took me one day to .hear Mass at St. Mary’s Cathedral at Madras. I had been to Mass before but never as an enquirer. On this day I looked all about me and made a mental note of everything I saw. In the seats about me I could see English people, Anglo-Indians and one French merchant with his family. There were Tamils and Telugus whom I could make out by their dress, and afar away near the entrance, kneeling on the cement floor was a Chinaman with a bundle by his side. In a flash, I could see the universality of the Catholic Church in the world of reality and the distinct advantage of saying Mass in Latin. During Elevation, as everyone bowed his head in silent adoration and that awful silence was broken for a moment by the muttered prayer of school children, I understood the glory of Catholicity-people of all tribes and tongues could kneel around a common altar and pray to a common Father, each in his own tongue.

At the end of Mass the celebrant who was an Irishman turned towards the congregation and read aloud in English the Gospel of the day. A thousand thoughts were flitting through my mind for me to follow the announcement that preceded the Gospel: then, when the Priest began reading out of the seventh chapter of St. Matthew, I took up my New Testament and read through the chapter. As I read on, one passage struck me forcibly: “Everyone therefore that heareth these my words and doth them shall be likened to a wise man that built his house upon a rock.” St. Matthew VII, 24.

I had till then, built my spiritual edifice on the shifting sands of private judgment and now how much I yearned to be founded on a rock. Sometime before I had been reading a collection of lectures delivered at the International Congress of Religions at Chicago. Talking about Catholicism, Cardinal Gibbons said that the Founder of Christianity, knowing what storms she would have to face in future, wisely built her on a rock. Though I longed to belong to the Catholic Church my whole being revolted against the idea of accepting the doctrine of the Infallibility of the Pope. While studying this subject in a special manner I found out that I had thoroughly misunderstood and misconceived this doctrine, and when once I understood it thoroughly I found it reasonable.

When my mind had been fairly made up, my Catholic friend took me to the Jesuit Fathers at St. Gabriel’s High School at Madras. One of those Jesuit Fathers solved all my minor difficulties and instructed me in the Catholic Faith. After over a year of instruction, on the 2nd of February, 1924, when I was a Fourth year Medical student I was received into the Catholic Church at St. Peter’s, Royapuram, Madras.

The impressions produced by my submission to the Church on my non-Catholic friends and relatives were various. The English clergymen whom I had known were very generous and sympathetic, one of them even congratulated me on my fidelity in following the dictates of my conscience and wished me joy and happiness in the Church of my adoption. Some friends were wild and bitter, others biting and sarcastic; one Lutheran clergyman, who had befriended me for years, burst into tears on hearing this piece of news. Some friends and relatives maintained that when I learned the inner life of Catholicism I would be so disgusted with it that I would return to the Church of my Baptism. It pains me much to think how mistaken they are about the state of affairs in the Church. They know so little about the Catholic, Church, and their ideas about her are so tainted by prejudice, that when they think they are attacking, her, they are really attacking a Phantasm which has no existence outside their imaginations.

I have spent nearly thirteen years in the Catholic Church and every year I love her more and more. She makes me live in a new supernatural world which I had never dreamt of before; she has unexplored vistas where I wander every day making new discoveries. I thank my Creator and Lord that He has led me out of the house of bondage into the land flowering with milk and honey. “Return unto thy rest, O my soul; for the Lord hath dealt bountifully with thee. For Thou hast delivered my soul from death, mine eyes from tears, and .my feet from falling.”

(Psalm CXVI, 7–8).

Nihil Obstat:

CAROLUS DOYLE., S.J., Censor Theol. Deput. Imprimi Potest:

@ JOANNES CAROLUS, Archiep. Dublinen, Hiberniae Prirnas. Dublini. die 14 Aprilis, 1944.

********

The Dauntless Virgin of Siena

INDEX

TODAY, WHEN THE RED BARBARIAN HAS HALF OVERRUN THE SACRED HERITAGE OF CATHOLIC CHRISTENDOM IN EUROPE, PRESSING BENEATH ITS HEEL A PROSTATE POLAND, THE ONETIME DEFENDER OF THE WEST AGAINST ISLAM: WHEN FRANCE, “ELDEST DAUGHTER OF THE CHURCH” IS HALF-SUBMERGED IN APOSTASY; WHEN ITALY HERSELF IS AN OUTPOST IN CONSTANT AND DIRE PERIL, AND THE GLORY OF AUSTRIA IS UTTERLY ECLIPSED: TODAY, INDEED, WE MAY WELL BE TEMPTED TO DESPAIR OF THE CHURCH’S FUTURE. IT WOULD SEEM THAT WAR, HERESY AND SCHISM ARE UNCONQUERABLE FOES; BUT FOR THOSE WHO CAN GLEAN HOPE FROM THE HARVEST OF HISTORY, THERE IS AMPLE ENCOURAGEMENT; THE FOURTEENTH CENTURY WAS AS FOREBODING AS OUR OWN, YET EVEN IN THAT CHAOS, AS IN THIS, THE VOICE OF CHRIST RINGS TRUE, “BEHOLD, I AM WITH YOU ALL DAYS EVEN TO THE CONSUMMATION OF THE WORLD.” THE CHURCH IN THE FOURTEENTH CENTURY, THEREFORE, IS AN INTERESTING ANALOGY. BUT THERE ARE OTHER JUSTIFICATIONS FOR SUCH A STUDY, FOR IS NOT THE CHURCH’S CORRUPTION IN THE FOURTEENTH CENTURY A WEAKNESS WHICH HER ENEMIES ARE FOND OF EXPOSING IN THE HOPE OF DAMAGING A FAITH WHICH THEY KNOW IS DOCTRINALLY UNASSAILABLE? MOREOVER, ARE NOT HER OWN ILL-INFORMED CHILDREN WONT TO REGARD IT AS A SKELETON THAT MUST BE KEPT CAREFULLY CONCEALED IN THE FAMILY CUPBOARD? YET, FOR THIS CORRUPTION THERE ARE OBVIOUS EXCUSES.

Lastly, from the fourteenth century comes hope to our own age of regeneration through the nobility and power of Christian womanhood, exemplified in one selfless figure who towers above her fellows-a woman who swayed the destinies of men, a woman who gave her life to save the greatest institution of all times-the Catholic Church. That woman was the dauntless Catherine of Siena. She it was who set out to restore to the Church something which it had lost through the corruption of mankind. Before she died, she had become the most discussed woman of her day. All the crowned heads of Europe knew her, many of them having employed her as their ambassadress. “Before her death, too, it was being debated whether she was a fanatic, a witch, an impostor or a saint.”

This Catherine of Siena was a great apostle -if she were living today we should call her the ideal Catholic Actionist, because she launched herself into every field of society where there were souls to be won for Christ, and the means she used to win them was her wonderful gift of friendship, that “rare and divine thing,” as Pere Lacordaire styles it, “the certain sign of a great soul and the highest visible reward attached to virtue.” By means of this gift, embodying, as it does, sympathy, understanding, unselfishness and love, she made friends with poets, artists, politicians, lawyers, priests, housewives, soldiers, nobles and sinners; from these contacts others grew, they broadened out, they spread to kings and queens, to Avignon-to the Pope himself. She was interested in the affairs of all who came to her, she was torn by their sorrows or rejoiced by their gladness, purposing all the time to bring them and their associates closer to God—that alone was Catherine’s ambition and that is why she was the Ideal Catholic Actionist.

THE SWORD OF TRUTH

Secondly, Catherine was a knight, like Joan of Arc, but her fight was to deliver not her country, but the Catholic Church, and her sword was the sword of Truth, because she was a Dominican. Her quest, then, was to conquer the world for Christ, to fight error and immorality, not by emotional devotions, not by sentimental outpourings, but by the sound doctrine of Truth, lived in her own life and imparted to others by means of her love for them. “Contemplate truth, then give to others the fruits of contemplation” is an order that every Dominican has accepted from the founder, but in the case of Catherine it was an all-absorbing ideal, for with her eyes centred on Truth-namely, on God Himself—she saw the world in its right perspective and devoted herself to its reform.

But before attempting a brief survey of her life, let us see the state of the Church in the fourteenth century, and why reform was necessary.

When the Roman Empire fell to the barbarians in the year 378, devastation and disorder followed. The Catholic Church alone made order out of chaos. The Popes set about governing the temporal affairs of Rome as well as the spiritual, and gradually the Church became the most powerful governing body in Europe; it effected a glorious development of religious and intellectual life, it created an order of peace and industry, making labour a divine service. Pope Gregory not only resisted the yet half-savage Lombards, but sent missionaries to Britain and saw the very barbarian conquerors turning from Arianism to the Catholic Faith. He claimed a suzerainty over the Spanish kings, he became the friend of the Franks. In 726 another Gregory, in a quarrel with Leo the Iconoclast, did all he could to preserve Italy from its Byzantine masters. He failed; but the Romans, acclaiming him a deliverer, gave to the Papacy the Eternal City. Thus began what is now known as the Temporal Power of the Popes.

THE GREAT SCHISM

From then on, the Popes claimed, and maintained, the right both to crown kings and to depose them. From the hands of Leo III., on Christmas Day of the year 800, Charlemagne received his crown as Emperor of the Holy Roman Empire, an act which was often repeated during the next 650 years. Every king, except the king of France, had at one season or another become liegeman to the Pope; even William the Conqueror accepted from Alexander II. the consecrated banner of his expedition; while, under Henry II. and King John, England became a Papal fief. One proud German Emperor, Henry IV., after his excommunication, had to cross the Alps and come barefoot to Canossa as a suppliant to Pope Gregory VII., from whom, after being left to do penance in the snow for three days, he secured forgiveness and the restoration of his prerogatives. But, even at this period-namely, 1076-Papal domination did not go unchallenged; all through the years there had been factions of nobles who rebelled at the Church’s interference in State affairs; the order should be reversed, they declared, allowing the State a voice in Church government. Consequently, by the beginning of the fourteenth century, when feudalism had decayed, city-States had come into being and nations had evolved, the interference of the Church in State affairs was being repudiated on all sides. But one particular quarrel was in progress which would have dire consequences for Church and State alike; it was between Philip the Fair of France and Pope Boniface VIII. The ostensible cause of the quarrel was the old one of lay-investiture and clerical exemption from taxation, but, in reality, Philip was chafing under Papal domination and was determined to use a dispute of transient importance to throw off the “yoke of vassalage” to Rome. In that year of 1303, Pope Boniface, speaking for the Church of France, reiterated his claim to immunity from State taxation. King Philip answered with scorn and defiance. The Pope retaliated by fixing 8th September as the day of Philip’s deposition as King of France. Philip’s reaction was to send his minister of vengeance, Nogaret, with 300 horsemen, to overthrow the Pope. Legend tells us strange and varied things about their treatment of Pope Boniface, but whatever it was, its savagery resulted in his death within a few days. His successor, the Dominican, Pope Benedict XI., denounced the perpetrators of this crime and was himself found dead within four weeks. Poison was judged to have killed him. After these happenings, the Papal throne was left vacant for several months during which time, it is believed, Philip exerted powerful influence to have Bertrand, Archbishop of Bordeaux, elected Pope.

After a lengthy conclave of eleven months, prolonged by the factions of French and Italian Cardinals, Bertrand was eventually elected, crowned at Lyons in the presence of Philip the Fair, and speedily environed with a college of French Cardinals. Then, as Clement V., he took up his abode at Avignon, thus placing the Papacy within close touch of France and under French influence, exposing it to the domination of a civil ruler, while leaving Rome with its Vatican and Capitol to lie desolate. Patriots such as Dante and Petrarch might lament or rebel at this discrowning of their fatherland, but all to no avail; for seventy years, seven successive Popes continued to reside at Avignon, claiming the protection of France and thus forfeiting the Papal right to independence. Naturally, one country after another rebelled against this French authority-Germany, England and Italy all refused to grant more than lip obedience to a Pope who was a French subject. The Papacy lost its influence over Catholics in all lands, who, naturally enough, confused nationality with religion; while the ill-governed Papal States seemed a ready prey for those wandering military leaders who plundered Europe. Even Florence was at war with the Pope; it remained, then, for St. Catherine of Siena, that “singularly winning apparition,” to appear at the Papal court and to restore the Popes to the Eternal City. But, meanwhile, the Church had become corrupt and badly governed, and I think the chief cause of this can be found in that fearful catastrophe known as The Black Death.

Let us see what happened. In January, 1348, three trading vessels sailed into the port of Genoa, having fled from the Crimea, where a plague was raging. At once it was discovered that the crew was infected, but not before the plague had spread into the city, carrying off six-sevenths of the population. Soon, the whole of Italy was ravaged by the disease; then, as one author says, “the malignant tongue of infection forked, darting across the Adriatic to Hungary, Austria, Germany, Poland, and striking north into Switzerland. By the spring Spain, too, was full of the poison. Sicily, Sardinia and Corsica were devastated. From Marseilles the pestilence raced up the Rhone Valley, through Languedoc to Flanders and Holland. It was in England by July devouring London, then across into Scotland it swept, bringing ruin to Denmark, Norway and Sweden.” One historian describes this plague as “the most awful calamity that ever befell the human race,” but though we cannot fully subscribe to that estimate we can, at least, judge the extent of the catastrophe from the fact that from one-third to one-half of the population of Europe was dead in two years. The deaths amongst the clergy were out of all proportion to their numbers, for the simple reason that in their efforts to minister to the plague-stricken they themselves had fallen victims to the scourge. The effect of this plague on the Church is obvious; it shook it to its very foundations at a time when it was ill-prepared. As I have already explained, the Papacy was weak, but the religious Orders and the secular priests had striven to maintain religion throughout Europe. Now, however, these very Orders were almost extinct. In some cases, convents and monasteries had been left without one surviving religious. Whole districts were bereft of a priest to minister to the people; consequently, immorality and irreligion soon became widespread. But what could be done? The only method possible was hurriedly to ordain more priests and still more hurriedly to collect and profess religious teachers. Consequently, theological training was curtailed, the standards of religious life were lowered. The evil effects of this were lasting, for part of the new members thus gathered in proved unsuitable, and therefore sapped discipline and impaired the perfection of religious life. The same happened in the ranks of the secular clergy. In order that public worship might continue, very young and often uneducated clerics had to be ordained.

At the same time the old Church revenues were kept in force so that one man would hold several Bishoprics and collect their revenue. This meant that one Bishop could not see to the conduct of each of his dioceses, even if he felt disposed to do so; but, what was far worse, this enticing opportunity to collect a large income attracted men who were quite without spiritual ideals; they simply wanted wealth. Consequently, devoid of religious aims, they lived grossly immoral lives and allowed those under their care to do likewise. Luxury and vice widely prevailed. The people, seeing the laxity of the Hierarchy, lost all respect for Church authority, and, as often happens, confused respect for the doctrine of the Church with respect for its government, and so fell away from the practice of religion.

That the Church emerged from this crisis with her doctrine intact and her powers not only unimpaired, but greatly strengthened, is a sure sign of her divine origin. Any other institution the world over would never have survived this decadence. To the Catholic Church alone, Christ promised, “I am with thee all days even to the consummation of the world . . . and the gates of hell shall not prevail against thee.” This period of which I have been speaking is only one of countless times when Christ has fulfilled that promise. Amongst other means, He raised up saints to reform His Church, martyrs to shed their blood in defence of its doctrines, and apostles and missionaries like St. Catherine of Siena to set an example of holiness in a sinful world. This brings us, then, to a study of St. Catherine, that dauntless woman, who, as friend, ambassador and saint, played her part, ordained from all eternity, in regenerating the Church.

THE GREAT APOSTOLATE

Catherine Benincasa was born at Siena on 25th March, 1347. She was the youngest but one of a very large family of twenty-five. She died in Rome on 29th April, 1380. In this brief career of thirty-three years she accomplished so varied and so striking an apostolate that one historian declares, “She was the greatest and most portentous woman that, second to the Virgin Mother, has ever appeared in history-the most sublime ambassadress that God has ever sent to men.”

As a tiny child she was remarkable for her gaiety and brightness, qualities that persisted throughout her life and endeared her to all her disciples.

In Siena there was a monastery of Dominican friars, so that from her earliest years Catherine was familiar with the black and white habit, which she herself was later to wear. She knew that the white signified Purity and the black Humility and Penance-virtues which strongly appealed to her young heart. She decided that one day she, too, would become a Dominican, but, in the meantime, she must make herself holy-a task which she undertook by various and strange means, including the saying of a “Hail Mary” on every step of the stairs. We can imagine the effect of this on an irate mother who might be waiting for Catherine to bring a message from the top of the house! As a matter of fact, this was only one of the many things that antagonised a mother whose temper was seldom at rest. In her search for holiness, Catherine also hit on the plan of running away from home to live as a hermit. She took up her abode in a cave outside the city, and devoted herself most assiduously to prayer, but, when evening came, the gnawing pangs of hunger and the fears of being alone in the darkness so terrified her that she fled back to the city, leaving her hermitage desolate.

When she was six years old she was one afternoon returning home with her brother along a road winding into Siena. Catherine was lagging behind absorbed in her baby fancies, perhaps picking wild flowers or playing at make-believe with the little figures that people every childish mind. Suddenly, raising her eyes across the valley, she saw a most extraordinary vision above the Church of St. Dominic. It took the form of a throne “decked as for a king, and on the throne Jesus Christ, the Saviour of the world, in Papal raiment and with the Pope’s crown upon His head”; with Him were St. Peter, St. Paul and St. John the Evangelist. Catherine, rapt in wonder at this marvellous vision, suddenly saw Our Lord smile tenderly upon her, then stretch forth His hand and bless her with the Sign of the Cross. Meanwhile, her brother had rambled on in the belief that she was following, but, now, looking back, he perceived her gazing into the heavens with an expression of extreme happiness on her face. He called to her unavailingly, then, boy-like, returned and pulled her roughly by the arm. Then it was as though Catherine awoke from a deep sleep; for a moment she stood dazed, then burst into tears at the realisation that her beautiful vision had vanished.

We can imagine the two children walking silently onward after this strange episode-people were laughing and talking in the streets, children were playing, everything was just as usual, but for Catherine everything had become different, “for the highest power in the world had overshadowed her, Eternity had spoken to her child’s heart”; Catherine, like the Apostles, had “seen the Lord.” His look had penetrated to the depths of her soul and set resounding there that urgent message heard so often by men and women whom God has destined to serve Him. “Come, follow Me-follow Me away from father and mother, from sisters and brothers, from house and home, from your town and country, follow Me wherever there are souls to be won.” Catherine responded willingly to such a call, though she knew that it would cost her the material happiness which this world offers. At the age of seven, then, she made a vow of virginity; going before the statue of Our Lady she dedicated her life to God, promising to have no other bridegroom but Him.

Now, Italian girls reach maturity much sooner than their Western sisters; consequently, when Catherine was twelve her mother, deciding that she must be betrothed, set about looking for a suitable husband, insisting at the same time that her daughter should deck herself out in all the finery calculated to attract the male fancy. For a while Catherine enjoyed the happy life thus offered her, as well as the company of the young men who sought her affection, but soon she realised that all this was but empty pleasure, unworthy of one who knew in her heart that God was calling her to higher things. At the same time she remembered her vow of virginity and, to the surprise and annoyance of her family, declared that she would not marry; furthermore, to frustrate her mother’s plans for making her attractive, she cut off her hair. When this was discovered, a torrent of maternal abuse and invective was poured on Catherine; her family felt they would be disgraced in having an old maid on their hands, therefore, to bring her to her senses, they decided that, while waiting for her hair to grow, she should be the servant of the house and be treated as such. Consequently, the maid was dismissed and Catherine was set to the menial work of cooking and washing-up for the family of twenty-five.

Not a murmur of complaint escaped her during this trying time, though she suffered a family persecution and was scorned by her friends. One night as she lay in the little servant’s room at the back of the house she had a strange dream, in which she saw St. Dominic offering her the black and white habit with the words, “Be of good heart, my daughter, and fear not; assuredly you shall wear this habit!”

At the age of sixteen, then, when her family had become convinced of her aversion to marriage, she was allowed to take the habit of a Dominican Tertiary. From then on her life is divided into two distinct periods-first, those three years from the age of sixteen to nineteen during which she devoted herself to contemplation and prayer, unconsciously preparing herself for the great apostolate she was soon to undertake; and, secondly, the last fourteen years of her life which she spent in the service of her neighbour and the Church.

These first three years were passed in a small brick-paved room in the basement of her father’s house, where, as a Dominican Tertiary, she fasted, watched and prayed, never emerging except to go to Mass and Confession at the Church of St. Dominic.

MORTIFICATION

During this time mortification figured largely in her life though she herself was accustomed to warn her disciples against great corporal penance-it led, she declared, to self-complacency and pride. Ecstasies and visions, too, were vouchsafed her, as is sometimes the case with souls wholly absorbed in God, but they are not an integral part of true holiness, which really consists in love of God, from which is engendered unquestioned acceptance of the Divine Will, so that we work in close union with Christ for the salvation of souls. A feature of her life more worthy of our consideration, then, is the astonishing way she mastered temptations during these three years, for Catherine was essentially human, possessing all the evil tendencies of fallen Nature, but in her vision of Truth she saw that temptations overcome mean growth in self-knowledge, an essential factor of Humility, therefore, she did not become despondent when subjected to them. Moreover, she longed to offer to her Lord an undivided will and perfect purity of heart, both of which can only be proved under temptation.

Now the world of Catherine’s day was exceptionally corrupt. Impurity was a vice countenanced on all sides; therefore, it is not astonishing that the devil, knowing the power for good she would have in such a world, strove with all his might to stir up the lower passions of her nature by lascivious visions, threatening to torment her until she succumbed to his wiles. Night after night and day after day he assailed her sight with pictures so impure that only a diabolical mind could create them, tempting her all the time to give in and be like those whom he presented to her gaze, but Catherine, with a supreme effort of the will, declared repeatedly that she had chosen Christ alone as her lover and suffering as her joy. At one time, when these temptations seem to have possessed her very soul, she threw herself at the foot of the crucifix, saying, “Lord, where wert Thou while my soul was being so sorely tormented?” “I was in thy heart, Catherine,” came the answer, “for I will not leave anyone who does not first leave Me by mortal sin.” Then, with the realisation that she was one of those white-robed warriors of the Dominican army, whose war is against such vices, she took courage, and repeating the Holy Name, fought her way through temptations to peace.

After another such victory Our Lord appeared to her uttering these consoling words: “Because thou hast, for love of Me, renounced all worldly joys and desires, I have resolved solemnly to keep My betrothal with thee and to take thee for My bride in faith,” and as He spoke He put on her finger a golden ring, saying, “Fear nothing, thou art shielded with the armour of Faith and shall prevail over all thy enemies.”

Soon after this, Our Lord commanded her to go forth from her seclusion in order to labour for the salvation of souls by works of charity and zeal. For the next few years, then, we find her devoted to alms-giving and nursing the sick of the city. Here she showed a predilection for the most repulsive cases. One old woman covered with cancerous sores whom no one would attend was Catherine’s chosen patient. Daily she visited her, bathed her sores and attended to all her needs, at the same time getting nothing for her kindness but violent abuse. This woman even went so far as to spread the most devastating stories about Catherine’s moral character, but even this did not lessen her devotion. At length, when the malicious old creature died and no one would go near enough to bury her, Catherine dug the grave and buried her with her own hands.

Repeatedly, too, she visited the prisons where hosts of men and women were sent to execution in dereliction and despair; over and over again she won such souls to God. Sometimes she would spend whole nights in the cell of the condemned, pleading with them to turn to God before the morning brought their execution. On one occasion a young man was unjustly condemned to death. Try as they would, the priests could not convert him from his desire for revenge and his blasphemies against God, Who, he thought, had abandoned him. We are told that he walked up and down his cell like a madman and would not hear of Confession. But Catherine went to the unhappy youth; for days she prayed and pleaded with him. At length her words gave him so much comfort and joy that, having made his confession he begged her to be with him at the hour of execution. “Stay with me and do not leave me,” he pleaded; “then all will be well and I shall die content.” At dawn next morning she waited for him on the scaffold. Read the way she describes it herself and try to imagine the virile courage and manliness of soul that must have been hers. She says: “I waited for him then, at the place of execution, and I waited in continual prayer. Calling on Our Lady, I prayed and did violence to Heaven to obtain the grace that, at the last moment, Mary would give him light and peace. Then he came, gentle as a lamb, and when he saw me, he began to smile and he would that I should make the Sign of the Cross over him. I made it and said to him, ‘Up to the marriage, dear, my brother; soon shall you be in life everlasting.’ With great meekness he lay down and I placed his head aright (upon the block) and bent down and bade him think only of the blood of the Lamb. His lips said nothing but ‘Jesus’ and ‘Catherine.’ And as he spoke thus I took his head in my hands and I closed my eyes and said, ‘I will.’ Then I saw his soul meeting with Christ and I knew that it had been saved by pure grace and mercy, without merit. Then his soul turned, as the bride turns, at the bridegroom’s door and, looking back, bends her head in thanks to those who have attended her. But when the body had been taken away, my soul rested in such peace and quiet and in a fragrance of blood so sweet that I could not bear to wash from off my habit the blood that had sprinkled it.”

Meanwhile, a host of friends and disciples had gathered around this wonderful woman -politicians, soldiers, poets, outcasts, kings and queens sought her advice. People implored her mediation in the countless family quarrels that destroyed the city life of the time. In every case, she showed that vitality of interest that springs from true, unselfish friendship and that is able to draw out and sustain the best in every nature, strong or weak. She gave herself wholeheartedly to each one as though his life and concerns were all that mattered to her. In every case, too, she insisted on purity of life and prayer. She never began this spiritual intercourse with a rebuke, but, identifying herself with the sinner, she pointed out that she, too, knew those sins of the body; then she passed on to the contemplation of some divine truth- the mercy of Christ, the purity of Our Lady, the wonder of God’s love, indicating at the same time the loveliness and desirability of virtue; then she deftly contrasted the conduct of her client, letting him see himself in all the ugliness of his sin. In true Dominican style she thus led the sinner to repentance by a positive method, stimulating his will to virtue by visions of holiness and by depicting his offended God in such a way that the most degraded sinner would feel ashamed. Even the notoriously wicked Queen Joanna of Naples she dealt with in this fashion.

She could not endure sentimentality or effeminate weakness; on the contrary, manliness was a quality she required from all her friends, both men and women. They must be strong personalities, ready to put their hands to painful and difficult tasks. “Do not stand still; do not look back; do not leave hold of the plough,” she was fond of saying to those inclined to hesitate on the road to conversion or inclined to waver in the conquest of souls. In this she was merely echoing Our Lord Himself, Who said: “He who puts his hand to the plough and looks back is not worthy of Me.”

ADVISER TO POPES

Meanwhile, the residence of the Popes at Avignon and the corruption of the clergy were having evil repercussions all over Europe. One city after another revolted against the over-lordship of the Pope; wars broke out, in which the efforts of kings and rulers were directed towards crushing the temporal power of the Papacy. Papal Legates came to Catherine to discuss with her methods of reform and appeasement. She listened to them all, exhorting them to reform their lives and to work for the reformation of the Church. Such was their confidence that they persuaded her to go as ambassadress to these unruly cities in an attempt to make peace; gladly she did so, travelling to Florence, Pisa and Lucca as the Pope’s representative. In 1376 she went to Avignon, to the Pope himself, to plead for the rebellious city of Florence. This was her great opportunity of pleading personally with the Pope to return to Rome, and to reform the lives of the clergy. This she felt was her life’s crusade and Avignon her battlefield, where, by means of her powerful sword of Truth, she would carry the cause of God to victory.

Admitted to the presence of the Pope, she pleaded first for the city of Florence; then, with all the vehemence of a passionate nature, she exhorted Gregory to cast aside his idleness and luxury, to be a man, and to do what he knew was his duty. She pointed out the corruption of the Cardinals, telling them to their very faces that their vicious lives were a disgrace to mankind and would certainly bring down the wrath of God on the world. The whole Papal court stood aghast at the daring words of this astonishing woman. One official insultingly asked: “Couldn’t the Florentines find a man to send instead of a wretched little woman like you?” The Cardinals besought the Pope to get rid of her, and even threatened her life, but to Catherine it mattered not if she suffered death, provided she carried to victory the cause of God. For, even though she might condemn the human weakness of the Pope, she regarded his office as the most sanctified on earth.

For days, then, she appeared before the timid Gregory, each time urging him more vigorously to cease disgracing his noble office. “Be a man, Holy Father. Arise! I say to you that you have nothing to fear. If you do not do your duty, then, indeed, you might have cause to fear. You know you ought to come to Rome-then be a man and come; and if any try to stay you, turn to him and say, as did Our Lord, ‘Get behind me, Satan.’”

So deep an impression did her words make on Gregory that he resolved to obey her command and return to Rome. Moreover, with his soul swelling with Catherine’s supernatural energy, he ignored the pleas of the Cardinals, ignored even his own aged father, who, falling op his knees, begged him to remain in Avignon. Meanwhile, the Cardinals appealed to the king of France to intervene. King Louis hastened to the Papal court to deal personally with this obnoxious woman, but, at his very first interview, he was not only won over to her way of thinking, but was even persuaded to lead a crusade against the Infidels. On January 17, 1377, Pope Gregory XI. made his triumphal entry into Rome and the Babylonian captivity was ended.

The next three years Catherine spent in Rome, repeatedly active as ambassadress and adviser to Popes Gregory XI. and his successor, Urban VI., and working tirelessly for the reformation of the Church, serving the destitute and the afflicted, and despatching eloquent letters on behalf of the Papacy to the courts and governments of Europe. Three secretaries were needed to write her letters, which she dictated simultaneously. Today, these letters, four hundred in number, together with her Dialogue and a series of prayers, rank among the classics of the Italian language, written as they are in the beautiful Tuscan tongue of the fourteenth century. By this time, however, her strength was being rapidly consumed, and with that heroic self-sacrifice so characteristic of her nature, she besought God to let her bear the punishment for all the sins of the world, asking Him to receive the sacrifice of her body for the unity and renovation of the Church. In her last agony it seemed that the Church, the barque of Peter, was laid upon her shoulders and that it was crushing her to death with its weight. After a prolonged suffering of three months she died with the words, “Thou, Lord, callest me and I am coming to Thee . . . Father, into Thy hands I commend my spirit.” It was April 29, 1380.

To all appearances St. Catherine’s life had been a comparative failure, for though she had laboured for fourteen years, when she lay dying there was little evidence of the good she had effected; the Church was soon to be torn by the Great Schism, while corruption and pluralities would continue their dire work until the convocation of the great Council of Trent. But in the world’s history there have been other such failures, which, in reality, were “triumphal defeats of which Victory herself might be jealous.” After all, Our Lord died with the words, “Traitor” and “Impostor,” ringing in His ears, while His very Apostles were too ashamed to show their faces; but His defeat was the sign of victory to a redeemed people. Catherine of Siena had given her life for a great and noble cause. She had helped to reform the Papacy, but, more important still, she had collected a mighty band of men and women dedicated to the service of God. As I have already said, the friends of Catherine made other contacts; their influence extended far and wide. In reality, it was her influence, for was it not she who had pointed out their paths to them and shaped their destiny for good? Her whole life had been spent in the service of God and of His Church; well might she be depicted in art with her protecting arm encircling the Papal tiara! For, though to her contemporaries she appeared to fail, history has given the lie to their biassed judgments, while the verdict of heaven comes in her own assurance:

“God asketh not a perfect work, but infinite desire.”

Nihil obstat.

F. MOYNIHAN, Censor Deputatus.

Imprimatur:

@ D. MANNIX,

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis.

********

The De Montfort Way of True Devotion To Mary

BY FRANK DUFF

INDEX

A COMMENDATION

BY REGINALD CARRIGOU-LAGRANGE, O.P

One of the best means of spreading throughout the Christian people a devotion to Mary the universal Mediatrix, and of making understood the full import and the full compass of this title (to which the Church has given the official recognition of a special feast), is to broadcast the admirable doctrine of St. Louis-Marie de Montfort. That doctrine is the very soul of The De Montfort Way-a work which is the product of deep faith and great fervour.

St. Louis-Marie de Montfort is one of those who have worked hardest in the Church to diffuse knowledge of and devotion to the universal mediation of Mary. Delightfully he shows that she forms the elect, guides them, defends them, and intercedes for them. Little by little, they enter into the sentiments of confidence and love which she herself had while here on earth; and from on high she enables them to see all things somewhat as she herself sees them in Heaven.

This road is an easy and a certain one. In it are met -to be sure-many purifying crosses, many a cross of reparation. But the Blessed Virgin renders such aid to those who trust themselves to her, that this virginal way-as St. Louis-Marie De Montfort terms it-is really a path of roses, in which one forgets the thorns.

Those who propagate this devotion and those who love it have in their lives a sign of predestination. Therefore, all should be grateful to the author of The De Montfort Way for having elucidated it with such profound conviction and with such persuasiveness.

THE DE MONTFORT WAY OF TRUE DEVOTION TO MARY BY FRANK DUFF

I

THE DE MONTFORT WAY

Mary is so Immense That Just Appreciation of Her . . .

Mary, and the place of Mary, as depicted by De Montfort, and with him the Saints and Doctors of the Church, are so immense as to tend to overwhelm. It is variously said of her that she is so far above other creatures that she has nothing entirely in common with them; that she represents an ineffable miracle of the Almighty, approaching as nearly to God as created nature can, exalted above all human and angelic eulogies; that she almost touches the borders of the infinite; in fact, that there is in her something of that infinite perfection which belongs properly to the fruit of her womb; that even she herself does not comprehend her own greatness; that God has conferred on her a species of omnipotence, the omnipotence of a supplication which is always heard; that it is by her, and to whom she pleases, when she pleases, and in the quality and manner she pleases, that all the gifts and virtues and graces of the Holy Ghost are administered; that she is the arbitratrix of the salvation of each one of us. So many, so grand are the things that are said of her that not only do those outside the Church profess themselves outraged, but even a majority of those inside take it for granted that these things represent pious exaggeration.

. . . Is Thought to be Romantic Excess. . . .

The present treatise of De Montfort commonly incurs this imputation. Innumerable of the flights of his genius, expressive of the soundest theological truths, are passed over as being romantic in their nature, not sober fact but the outpourings of loyalty or love. This impression is strengthened by the very beauty of the garment of words in which he clothes his ideas. I fear that to the majority of his readers De Montfort’s immortal work means little more than choice dreaming. The word “extreme” sums up their final judgment of the book, and many would not hesitate to add the term “extravagant.”

Herein they fall into an error which may justly be described as a fatal one. The diamonds of right doctrine -veritably “gems of purest ray serene”-are given to the poor, who think them only glass, and throw away what would have made them rich. For mark it well: Mary is part of the essence of the Faith. Lack of appreciation of her role is defect in faith; and defect in faith means impoverished spiritual living.

. . And De Montfort’s Wonderful Tribute to Her . . .

De Montfort’s book has a place of its own in the Church. There is nothing else quite like it. In its doctrine it is eminently theological and profound. Ordinarily, this would narrow its appeal. He that teaches from the mountain-top will not see around him the weak and the poorly-equipped; they have been unable to struggle up so high. But the “True Devotion” has a character which has forced it on the notice of the people, and made it a special herald of Mary universally received and given hearing. What an asset to the Church a book like that should be, which teaches profoundest doctrine, yet is read by all. It is certain that everyone who studies the “True Devotion” will fall beneath its spell, for the book has everything. It has style, it has fervour, it has intense conviction, solidity, soaring eloquence, the air of authority and inspiration. Every reader will be stirred by the ardent love for Mary which shines forth in the treatise. Many, too, will be moved to enter into the compact of consecration which De Montfort recommends. Yet, of all its readers, from those who merely thought it beautiful, up the scale to those who entered determinedly on the full practice of the Devotion, how few are found to be giving the book and its teachings any place in their lives after a single year; yes, after far less than a year? In this failure it is not want of good will which is at work; nor want of natural love for Mary, nor want of desire to love her more. It is that the majority have nothing in their minds to which they can relate his emphatic pronouncements and striking imagery, no soil in which his “Tree of Life” can strike its roots. Even where his book casts a spell, the spell wears off. For most readers never took as literally true the things he said of Mary. All the time their minds were unconvinced .

. . . Outdistances the Devotion . . .

Consider the following, which I have taken quite at random, and suggest as fairly typical. Propounding motives for the making of the perfect Consecration, De Montfort declares that it is the characteristic of Mary to conduct us surely to Jesus, as it is the characteristic of Jesus to conduct us surely to the Eternal Father. . . . Spiritual persons therefore must not fall into the false belief that Mary can be a hindrance to them in attaining to divine union. . . . Other creatures-however holy-may be, but such cannot be said of Mary. He proceeds to urge that why so few souls come to the fullness of the age of Christ is because Mary, who is as much as ever the Mother of the Son, and as much as ever the fruitful Spouse of the Holy Ghost, is not sufficiently formed in their hearts. He who wishes to have the fruit well-ripened and well-formed, must have the tree that produces it. He who wishes to have the fruit of life, Jesus Christ, must have the tree of life, which is Mary, etc.

. And the Appreciation of Those Who Read It.

I fear that those vivid thoughts, which are so true, and should be potent to widen and enliven our conceptions of the workings of grace in our souls, lead most people nowhere. They simply provoke a series of mental query marks. The minds of those who read do not take it as seriously meant that Mary is the tree of life to them, nor appreciate why she, unlike all other holy creatures, will never retard Divine Union. Consequently, they do not understand, except as a merely picturesque expression, De Montfort’s plaint that it is because Mary is not sufficiently formed in the hearts of men that so few of them come to the fullness of the age of Christ. We do not possess the groundwork which he takes for granted. De Montfort is like a man talking of what he sees through a telescope to another who has no telescope and is incredulous.

Our Devotion Is Only Third-Rate

What is the common equipment of knowledge of Mary? It is not an unworthy one. We know her to be the great Mother of God, and that she is also our mother, watching over us always, and to whom we likewise must pray. Yet, between this and what De Montfort insists on as due to her by us, and as necessary to us, if grace is to have its full sway over us, occurs a hiatus. Is it a deep yawning chasm, or is it simply a missing coupling? I venture to assert it is no more than the latter, and that fifteen minutes’ thought can put it in its place. Some readjustment of ideas is required in the following directions: (a) the place of Mary in the scheme of God; (b) what the True Devotion really amounts to; (c) the “mechanics” of its practice.

. . . And De Montfort Does No More Than Mirror . . .

Now, the very first thing of which readers must be persuaded is that what De Montfort says of Mary’s place and greatness contains not a particle of exaggeration, but mirrors faithfully the declarations of the Saints and the teaching of the Church about her; that is to say, it indicates the very mind of God Himself. God Himself it was Who first began to tell of her and to sketch out for her a destiny unquestionably unique. For all that greatness of hers had a beginning very far back. It began before the constitution of the world. From the first, the idea of her was present to the Eternal Father along with that of the Redeemer, of whose destiny she formed part. Thus far back had God answered the doubter’s saying: “What need has God of Mary’s help?” God could have dispensed with her all-together, just as He might have dispensed with Jesus Himself. But the course which it pleased Him to adopt included Mary. It placed her by the side of the Redeemer from the very moment in which the Redeemer was Himself decreed. It went further; that Plan assigned to her no less a part than that of Mother of the Redeemer and necessarily, therefore, of those united to Him.

. . . The Divine Idea of Mary . . .

Thus from all eternity Mary was in a position exalted, alone among creatures, and utterly outside comparison, even with the sublimest among them, different in the Divine idea, different in the preparation she received; and therefore fittingly singled out from all others in the first prophecy of Redemption addressed to Satan: “I will put enmities between thee and the woman, and thy seed and her seed. She shall crush thy head.” (Gen. iii., 15.) Here is the future Redemption summarized by God Himself. Definitely, Mary is to be in an order of her own; even before her birth and ever after, the enemy of Satan; below the Saviour, but next to Him, and like Him (Gen. ii., 18), and remote from all others. Not any Prophet-even the Baptist-is thus set with Him, nor King, nor Leader, nor Apostle, nor Evangelist-including Peter and Paul themselves; nor the greatest among the Popes and Pastors and Doctors; nor any Saint; nor David, nor Solomon, nor Moses, nor Abraham. Not one of them! Alone, out of all creatures that will ever be, she is divinely designated as the Co-worker of Salvation .

. . . So Vividly and Unmistakably Revealed in Prophecy.

The course of prophecy continues: “The Virgin,” “The Virgin and Child,” “the Woman,” “Woman and Child . . .”the Queen seated at the right-hand of the King,” the constantly recurring assurance that a woman is to be a prime element of our saving. What sort of future does this foretell of her? Do not such things as those which De Montfort, in union with the Church, tells of her, seem to follow logically on? Hardly do we realize how crushing, how conclusive is the bearing of prophecy on this question of the place of Mary in the Christian religion. A prophecy is a shadow of a thing to come, a glance which pierces time instead of space, a pale outline of a distant prospect. Necessarily, a prophecy must be less vivid, less clear, less real, than the reality of which it speaks. But necessarily, too, it must preserve harmonious proportion with that reality. Prophecy which pictured Redemption as wrought together by a Woman and her Child (and no other with that pair), who crush the head of Satan, would be radically inconsistent with an actual Redemption which relegates the Woman to obscurity. Thus, if prophecy is truly named, and if Salvation is a life-long working of the Incarnation and the Death of Jesus Christ into the fabric of the human soul (and Holy Church and Holy Scripture jointly so declare), then in the Christian system Mary must be found with Jesus, inseparable from Him in His saving work, the New Eve, dependent on Him but necessary to Him-indeed no other than the Mediatrix of all Graces, as the Catholic Church autos up her gracious office.

Likewise, the Annunciation Shows Her Key-Position.

The culmination of the prophecies arrives. The angel of the Lord is come unto Mary, and the fruition of her age-old destiny is now at hand. It is proposed to her that she shall bring unto the world Him who shall save His people from their sins, the man afflicted who will make her the Woman of Sorrows. Her consent is awaited and, as the Church teaches, it is awaited in the place of that of all human nature. That woman has become the representative of the entire human race. At that moment the Eternal Father only regards poor fallen humanity through her. Its fate hangs on her word. The Incarnation, on which rests the whole edifice of religion, and all its figures and prophecies, and all the workings-out of salvation, depend on that consent of hers. Surely heaven and earth and all things quiver in an agony of suspense-But no! It was for that moment that Mary had been lifted out of nothingness, made the subject-as St. Augustine says-of an eternal deliberation and a divine preparation, upraised to a sublimity of grace incomprehensible, unsearchable; so that, though faith and heroism far beyond our ken are needed to ensure a decision favourable to us, nevertheless all is sure. The words proceed from her lips which accomplish the greatest event of all time; the Redeemer is now amongst men. The plan of mercy was safe in her keeping, but only safe because her greatness was so great-almost touching, as it did, infinity. Her fiat was no formal act, though from remote ages God had built on it the structure of the world’s salvation.

Her Free Decision and Her Faith Opened Up a Way to God.

That consent of Mary’s was necessarily unique and perfect in its character. It was the most free decision ever given by a pure creature. It was indubitably the bravest, purest, tenderest, inconceivably the most meritorious act ever performed under God. We cannot fully understand why this should be. To our dense minds it might seem natural enough that even one of lesser merit would decide as she did. But such would never be the case, as Catholic common sense unhesitatingly asserts. The arguments of theology declare the same. It is God’s principle to require in proportion as He has given. It follows that the almost infinite gifts of grace conferred on Mary were adequately, exactly, perfectly reflected by her in continuous and lifelong acts of incomparable nobility, heroism, love, faith. Above all, this applies to the pivot of all her acts, her Fiat to the Incarnation, by which she received the Lord on behalf of all humanity.

Redemption, thus begun, moves swiftly to its consummation. Man for man, maid for maid, and now tree for tree! Jesus hangs upon the tree of the Cross and Mary stands beneath it-ratifying, renewing her offering of her Son for men’s sake, and meriting worthily to become, as Pius affirmed, “the Restorer of the lost world and the Dispenser of all the gifts that Jesus purchased for us by His Death and by His Blood.”

Such a Past Without a Corresponding Future . . .

Who can deny that here is the realization of the first prophecy of Redemption? Here are the Woman and Her Seed, and here has come to pass their crushing of the serpent’s head! Together, Jesus and Mary are fulfilling their eternal destiny. Neither in the prophecy, nor in the preparation, nor in the winning of Redemption has she been separated from her Son. Her part has been subordinate to His, but none the less essential, as He ordered things.

But that is not the end. It is only the beginning. Salvation has been won and, so to speak, gathered into the treasury of God. Its grace has now to be administered, applied to each individual soul by acts of virtue and worship. And in that working out of salvation, to use St. Paul’s incisive phrase (Ep. Phil. ii., 12), does Mary simply disappear? Or if she stays, what is her function? Does the past suggest a future for her, and if so, of what description? Now, let. those who read De Montfort judge if what he says about her ministry of grace does not attune to what she did as Helper in the winning of Redemption, and constitute as natural and orderly a growth out of that past as does a flower from its roots. Redemption, like that plant, is a perfect unity. Its earning is the root; its application is the flower .

. . . Would be Quite Meaningless.

And on the other hand, can that amazing past, which we have been discussing, be reconciled with the theory and practice of those who deny her any place in their religion, who believe that such part and blessedness as she possessed finished its career at Bethlehem, and was indeed so slight as not to merit a solitary word of thanks from humankind? O, if those doubting ones are right, what an anti-climax! Could we not legitimately complain that God Himself had staged a cruel and elaborate deception-the same as if the Eucharist were only bread!

But Her Motherhood of The Mystical Body . . .

Finished at Bethlehem! No more than did the life and mission of her Divine Son finish there! Their joint and indivisible mission was only nine months in progress on that eventful night. All time still stretches out before it. “For,” says Jean-Jacquot, “it is true to say that the Son of God, considered in His adorable Person, is in some sort but the half of Himself. The other part of Himself consists of the souls of men, of all the souls which are called to form His Church; and thus the Church is called the body and plentitude or the complement of Jesus Christ (Ep. i., 23). Hence, the Son of God, when He presents Himself to the Blessed Virgin, presents all those souls to be received with Him,”

These words at first sight startle. Yet they are but a rendering of the doctrine of the Mystical Body, which is that Christ and the baptized are united by a bond which resembles, but far exceeds in intensity, the union between the head and the other members of the human body. Thus, all are dependent one upon the other and the same life animates them all. The Head is Christ, the chief, indispensable and perfect part, from which the other members derive their powers, their very life. They form part of Christ with such completeness that their sins became His burden, while His satisfactions, the infinite merits of His passion, belong to His members as if the latter had themselves earned them. It is because Christ and His members form together but a single mystical person, that Christ could suffer for men and expiate faults which He had not Himself committed. “Christ is the Saviour of His Body.” (Ep. v., 23. )

. . . Constitutes a Worthy Sequel To All That Went Before.

And Mary is the Mother of that Body. (St. John, xix.) In so far as we are members of Christ’s Body, of His Flesh, and of His Bones (Eph., v., 30), so with equal necessity, and to such extent are we children of Mary His Mother. It is in her bosom, moulded ever more and more admirably to His likeness by her unremitting maternal care, that we grow into the perfect man who is Christ and come unto the measure of the age of His fulness (Eph., iv., 13 ) . And without her, this, our sublime destiny, is not achieved; such is the Divine arrangement. Though she is, in comparison to her Maker, veritably as nothing, nevertheless the Eternal Father has thus intimately associated her to His Redemptive scheme, in such way that as no grace proceeds other than by Jesus Christ, so none will be received other than through Mary. She is as definitely part of the Divine dispensation as Our Blessed Lord Himself-subordinate to, and utterly dependent on Him, of course, but none the less an integral and vital portion of the Divine way of grace, an all-important supplement to what we offer, and the invariable channel of what we receive.

Worship is an Essential Complement to Doctrine.

None should be so foolish as to think that the Heavenly Father, having thus given Life to His children through that loving Mother, and continuing through her to afford them all their divine nourishment, will for a moment tolerate from them an undutiful attitude towards her. Worship is a necessary complement of doctrine. Belief without loving service is as a man without memory, or-worse still-without common decency. As our salvation requires that we confess the Lord Jesus Christ, so it requires that we acknowledge the minor but essential office of Mary. As Christian worship is based on going to the Father through Christ, so must that same worship never lose sight of her who is equally the Mother of that Saviour and of these for whom He died. If we omit her, we thereby turn away from God. For she is definitely portion of God’s Holy Will in our regard, so that to slight her is to slight Him.

Thus, the symbolism which the Scriptures have put before us to aid to better understanding of the relation between Christ and His Church, is that of the Mystical Body. We have likewise seen that by virtue of her motherhood of Christ, Mary is true mother of the Christian soul, a motherhood which Our Lord Himself proclaimed at the moment when it acquired its full dominion, that is, when it was consummated by Redemption. If we seek to supplement that image by another which will help us to appreciate the intimacy of the relations of Mary with her children, we have an expressive, though still inadequate one in the life of the unborn babe. That babe is the soul, and its mother is Mary.

Therefore the Soul Must Give to Mary a Devotion . . .

“All the predestinate, in order to be conformed to the image of the Son of God, are in this world hidden in the womb of the most holy Virgin, where they are guarded, nourished, brought up, and made to grow by that good Mother until she has brought them forth to glory after death, which is properly the day of their birth, as the Church calls the death of the just.” This thought forms the central principle of the “True Devotion,” but the words are not De Montfort’s. They were written by St. Augustine nearly sixteen hundred years ago, and did not even then represent new thinking in the Church. Indeed, as De Montfort says, the Devotion is bound up with the very foundations of Christianity. What is it but the putting into logical and detailed practice of the Church’s teaching on the Mystical Body?

. . Corresponding to the Intensity of Its Dependence on Her . . .

But why should we specify the unborn babe, rather than the infant carried in the mother’s arms and nourished with the natural milk? It is far this reason, that the closeness of the relation between the soul and Mary, which De Montfort-with the Church-depicts, would not at all be sufficiently shown by the babe in arms. The latter is dependent on the mother to a very large extent, but not entirely. It can and does live a little life of its own apart from its mother. It does not draw from her the air it breathes; and portions of its nourishment-all perhaps, in certain circumstances-may be gained otherwise than from its mother. And that mother may go away, or that mother may die, and yet the baby life goes on-in complete independence of her, and conceivably it may fare better without than with that mother.

. . . Which is a Constant and An All-Embracing One.

But how different is the case with regard to the soul.

Devotedly, she carries on her mother’s work of sanctification. She receives the Divine graces and, like life’s blood, she gives them to the soul. Of that blood, not the very least drop, that is to say, not the smallest grace, comes to us of the Mystical Body otherwise than through the heart of Mary. What a picture of all-embracing dependence! The babe owes everything-absolutely everything under God-to the good offices of that Mother. Thus the babe unborn must be the image with which we help our minds to understand the role of the Mother of Divine Grace. But even that image only feebly indicates the true position. We grown-up people, moving at will, living our lives as we think fit, are nevertheless in a state of dependence on her so close, so intimate, that the confinement of the natural womb is in comparison widest liberty.

The True Devotion is Full Acknowledgement

De Montfort’s book is only understandable in the light of the doctrine of the Mystical Body. He assumes in the reader a degree of understanding of that doctrine which is not currently possessed; and here, I venture to suggest, lies the explanation of the difficulties which beset the reading of his book, and the reason why it does not yield up the singular treasures which it holds. But if the idea of the Mystical Body and its implications be grasped, not only does the doctrine of De Montfort’s “True Devotion” emerge with perfect clearness, but in its train, of course, the whole idea and necessity of what I must-without apology-call “common or garden” devotion to Mary.

. . . Of Mary’s Motherhood, and Also-Strange to Say . . .

In addition, analysis along those lines should make manifest a conclusion which may stagger the majority. It is that a wholesale form of devotion or offering, at least equivalent to that enjoined by De Montfort, represents in reality the only fully logical and worthy service of Mary. It is true that in relation to the everyday standards it may accurately be described as “extreme.” But this is only because those standards are earthbound ones and inappropriate to her who has been borne to the very heights of the finite .

. . . Represents the Very Minimum of What is Due to Her.

True worship, moreover, must reflect the service rendered. It was by Mary that Christianity came on earth, through her that every act of ours was made a Christian act. If that marked all she did for us, it would be only reasonable that likewise every act of ours should bear some impress of acknowledgement and gratitude to her. But, in reality, that was a mere beginning of her motherhood. The Church describes her as the Mediatrix of all Graces, an appellation which sufficiently establishes her position. Her more-than-mother care continues vital to the soul. Therefore, if every act and thought should render praise to Our Divine Lord for what He has done to us, then every act and thought should in a minor key give some acknowledgement to Mary. Gratitude urges this, and the rules of God require it. That acknowledgement of ours does not establish Mary as our Mother. She is our Mother irrespective of the fact of our recognition, and in face of ignorance or thoughtlessness, and even of repudiation. But the life that she offers can only enter our veins in proportion as they expand to receive it. If grace in plentitude is sought, there must be a complete co-operation.

Appreciation is a Vital Element of Worship . . .

Of what sort must that co-operation, that acknowledgement of Mary be? In the first place, it must possess quality, and in the second place, quantity. The first requires that we have a just appreciation of the greatness and the ministry of Mary, and desire to love her and honour her fittingly. This is a vital element, yet not so often found, as is evidenced by the dissent which is evoked by De Montfort’s book.

To put it simply, if God desires from us a piece of gold, does it suffice to give Him an equal weight of silver? Or if we prayed endlessly to Our Lord with no higher belief in Him than that He is a holy man in heaven, those prayers would only be a sort of counterfeit. Purity of intention may relieve one from guilt in the tendering of counterfeit, but it does not give the counterfeit the value of the real. No, it is the intrinsic worth, the type and degree of our faith, the intensity of the appreciation, which determine the value of the prayer. We may be praying much to Mary, but only in a copper currency. Whole Rosaries, which are not backed by right ideas of her, may not possess the dynamism of a single Ave issuing from a heart which glimpses what Mary really is, and tries to fill the little prayer with that esteem of her.

. . And Worship, Too, Must Not be Meanly Measured.

In the second place, our service of Mary must be substantial, that is, it must take in more than the mere minutes or the stray events of the day. It must be rather a spirit than acts or words which we will offer her. For the spirit contains and bears with it the whole life and not mere bits of it, however numerous. Formal prayers and specific acts must not, however, be thought superfluous. In practice they are indispensable. They are to the spiritual life what the skeleton is to the human body. They give order, definiteness, solidity-a framework to the day’s devotion and prevent it from falling asunder. Generally, the more frequent the prayer, the more comprehensive and true will be the spirit of religion which will inspire the life.

The Whole Life, in Fact, Must Sing its Dependence on Mary.

The precise detail in which this devotion to Mary will be worked out in the life must depend largely on the individual.

As people differ, so will our methods of expression vary. But if there is question of a mode of devotion which will express an exact appreciation on our part of the universal and uninterrupted influence of Mary in our soul, there suggests itself at once as a basis the idea of a Consecration, naturally of the completest sort, which will take into its scope everything about one’s life and self which can possibly be so grasped. The act which embodies and inaugurates that Consecration should be formal. It must be understood in all its bearings, and made with earnestness. But it cannot be too much stressed that the important consideration in the Consecration is not the act which initiates it, or even the many acts which may renew it, but the setting up a consecrated state of soul, an attitude of dependence on Mary.

That attitude of dependence on her is the necessary sequel to the moment of the Annunciation, when in effect we were made to depend on her, and God only dealt with us as united to her. We had no other status before Him than as her children-to-be. So now that we are come to her, we must declare that we belong to her. Our daily life is nothing else than the continuation in us of the Incarnation, the formation of Our Lord in us; and as He did of old at Nazareth, now God awaits her Fiat and requires our union with her.

The Spirit of Union With Her Must . . .

That union is a life, and just like the common life of the body, it demands the regular beating of the heart, the steady movement of the lungs, the stimulus of periodic nourishment. These are the impulses of prayer, ejaculation, act, practice, thought, and other reminders, which warm and renew the soul and preserve in it the spirit of consecration.

There must be order in the spiritual life. A system must be constituted if reality and perseverance are to be attained. That system, as its very name denotes, must necessarily be automatic or mechanical in some respects. But that is not to say that it is thereby undevotional or minus merit. That would be absurd-it would suggest that as frequency grew and a virtuous habit strengthened, so merit would decline. In general it is the isolated act that thrills with greatest fervour. Remember, too, that God Himself loves system .

. . . Be Preserved by Faithful Thought of Her . . .

Therefore, the times and the events of the day must be bound to certain prayers and observances. So far as is practicable, these will be multiplied, so that God is thought of and referred to more or less distinctly throughout the day. Then that day, methodized for God, must be carefully sub-methodized to ensure that Mary, too, shall never be completely lost to view. The frequent turning of the heart to her will create the spirit of devotion which we seek. That spirit will pervade the thoughts, and even penetrate into the inmost consciousness, so that wherever the immediate attention is-whether in heaven with the Divine Persons, or very much on earth guiding pick and shovel, or immersed in trying household duties- Mary as well as God is present to the mind. And attention need not-cannot always-be deliberate or distinct. The implement which the craftsman uses accomplishes his work without being consciously viewed all the time. Similarly, attention to Mary the great instrument of the Divine purposes, may be subconscious, yet all the same intense.

. . . Which Need Not Always Be Deliberate or Distinct.

“But surely I cannot do two things at the same time?” Why! you are doing two things at the one time all the whole day long! You are thinking while you are walking, you are praying while you are working, you are eating while you are listening, you are talking while you are seeing. True, you may not be giving to each act an equal degree of attention, but what is given to the lesser is substantial-so much so, that were you to bestow on God Himself, or Mary for God, throughout the day an equivalent amount of general attention, such would constitute you a contemplative of the highest order. De Montfort asks far less for Mary in the practice of the True Devotion. He declares that the habitual attention given to her need not necessarily be more than a general and imperceptible viewing of her.

Two things at the same time! One does not have to be a psychologist to distinguish readily even a third grade of attention, which may be so acute as to declare to be called active attention. For instance, in addition to the processes specified above, you may be simultaneously experiencing pleasure or discomfort of some kind. And then beyond these fairly tangible and active mental operations lies the whole realm of the passive or sub-conscious.

All Given to Mary Belongs Most Perfectly to God.

But, while it is important to show the hollowness of the above objection, which is launched with such a final air, it is not on any idea of divided attention that the principle of devotion to Mary rests. It rests on the principle, in the first place, that every offering to heaven, to whomsoever it may be immediately directed, proceeds through Mary; in the second place, that everything thus given to Mary thereby belongs to God, gaining in its passing through her hands-as De Montfort does not tire in repeating-a vast addition and embellishment of merit; and in the third place, that we must recognize and honour this arrangement, which is a dependent part of Christ’s own mediation, and due, accordingly, to the Will of God, a secondary acknowledgement.

But This is Not Rightly Grasped . . .

But no matter what is urged along these lines, misgivings will continue to obtrude themselves. Of these, the crudest one it is which tells the most: “How can I give all this attention to Mary without taking something from God?” The Protestant deems this to represent unanswerable argument. More even than in other points of faith, he sees a practical difficulty, and judges it to be conclusive. It is the old, old story once again: “How can this Man give us His Flesh to eat?” The doctrine of such persons must always accommodate itself to alleged practical considerations, to the evidence of the senses or of human reasoning .

. . . So That It Causes Perplexity to Many Earnest Souls.

Then, from that extreme down the whole gamut of difficulty, that crude objection busily insinuates itself. In the spiritual lives of many Catholics it is a nagging, irritating influence; and if it causes little trouble in the case of others, it is only because Mary is to them-as Father Faber would say-”so little of a Mary.” Their devotion to her is low and thin and poor, a miserable and unworthy shadow, not substantial enough even to arouse an occasional perplexity, far less to inspire their life.

In general, good Catholics realize that devotion of some sort is due by them to Mary. They think they fully satisfy this obligation by drifting with the tide of custom. They say whatever prayers the occasion sets before them. At Mass they may use a Missal or a prayer-book. During a visit to the Blessed Sacrament they may have a manual. They may say the Stations of the Cross or some form of Office; and when special forms of prayer are not called for by the time and place, they may say the Rosary. Many people use the Rosary at Mass as well.

Crude Ideas Obscure Her Vital Role, so That . . .

In this rough way, undoubtedly it happens that Mary is far from being ignored. The actual amount of prayers which is addressed to her by those who pray at all is by no means inconsiderable. The elements of Christian doctrine, which all have learned, the popular manuals on devotion to her, and the force of tradition, see to that. But almost always in the background is this unsatisfied feeling about her-the “crude objection.” A letter appears in some Catholic paper, which simply screams at the idea of saying the Rosary during Mass. It elicits others of the same kind. Surely, it has struck a responsive chord in far too many hearts; for it becomes painfully obvious that the real point is not the Missal or the Rosary at all, but something deep and serious. The Marian background of all those people is defective. The Missal may be better, but not as they use it. Then how feeble is the reply which follows; attack or defence-hardly one appears to realize the capital importance of the ministry of Mary. Doubts are awakened: “How am I to apportion my prayers as between God and Mary? Am I giving her too much? Am I praying to her in the right time and place? And if I am taking from God by praying to her at one time, is there not the chance that I may be taking from Him by praying to her at any time? When and where exactly does prayer to her come into season and go out again?”

. . . She Cannot Mould Us to Her Heart’s Desire.

And then when De Montfort’s noble treatise is read, and it is heard that all should be given to Mary in order that it may go most perfectly to God-Oh! then the difficulty which had been lulled to sleep by the rhythm of habit, gets up and stretches itself to its full length, and says loudly: “Would I not turn away from God were I to direct all my prayers to her?” No longer is there any possibility of just shirking the issue. For they are in the grip of the idea that the Father and the Son and the Holy Ghost and Mary and the Saints are like so many statues, so that to turn to one means necessarily to turn away from the others. In reality, this is a time of special grace, from which a great servant of Mary might arise after the whole position had been thoroughly thrashed out. But usually our armament of knowledge is not sufficient to bring us triumphantly through that melee. But neither is Mary’s hold on our hearts so weak that her cause suffers wholesale defeat. So after a period of bewilderment, perplexity, turmoil, on a scale according to our calibre, we just slip back to the indeterminate state of things which held before that crisis, and which custom had made comfortable. “Mary’s man” is not to be!

The True Devotion Affords a Proper Picture . . .

And all the time the “True Devotion,” which so startled them, held the key to that position. It could oust those crude, objection-brewing ideas of the paths of prayer and grace by placing in their minds a different picture-of superior conviction, based on Scripture, and conformed to every teaching of the Church-that picture of Mary as the indispensable mother of the Christian soul. In her we are conceived in grace, that is, made one in Baptism with Jesus Christ, her Blessed and Divine Fruit; and there we grow during life, one body and one spirit with Him, our only cause of grace, till, through the birth of death, Mary brings us forth to life eternal. The Holy Ghost, pervading Mary, operates with her that growth and sanctification. And over all is the Author of Grace Himself, the Eternal Father .

. . . Of the Motherhood of Mary and With it Comprehension. . . .

This vivid imagery, drawn from human processes of growth, and forming, as already stated, the basis of the “True Devotion,” effectively illustrates the processes of Divine Life in us. It aids to a proper appreciation (which the saints speak of as all-important) of the fact that each Divine Person is intimately concerned in every grace, and under them Mary. It gives an indication of the place of Mary in relation to the Most Holy Trinity and to ourselves, and enables us to visualize how she, though not herself the origin of grace, can be a necessary part of every movement of it, of the prayer which proceeds from us, of the gift of life which flows to us. Our Lord may not be addressed or mentioned or even thought of in a prayer, yet every prayer proceeds through Him, and derives its efficacy from Him. Similarly, in her own degree, Mary plays a vital part in every prayer, to whomsoever addressed and irrespective of the mention of her name.

. . . . Of the Processes of Grace and Prayer.

If these ideas be assimilated, there is not a notion or a phrase in De Montfort which a little reflection will not make clear as crystal. Likewise, we find that we acquire a notable facility and degree of freedom in spiritual things. We realize that the main element in prayer is not its form, but the qualities of soul which it reflects and the solidity of its foundation of Christian truth. Emboldened, we give our prayerful inclinations fullest rein, not unduly concerned as to their immediate destination nor subjecting them to rules of mathematical apportionment.

It Can Even Disarm the Violently Prejudiced.

Moreover, does not this imagery, and the devotions built upon it, provide a solution even to Protestant perplexity on the score of Mary? Here is a devotion which derives from the Scriptural image of the Mystical Body; which gives her full due to Mary, yet does not violate the rights of God and His Christ; but on the contrary, by bringing their Divinity into bold relief, safeguards those rights; which gives a true conception of Mary’s doctrinal position, and at the same time summarily solves the “how much” and the “when” of practice and devotion.

Therefore, does it not afford to those Protestants who possess instinctive love for Mary (and surely there are more than a few of them) a reasonable and simple way of giving her a place in their lives analogous to that she filled at Nazareth and Bethlehem and Calvary, those great Redemptive epochs, where the Woman of Destiny and her Seed fulfilled their prophetic mission in the crushing of the serpent’s head?

If those step-sons cannot, at the outset, bring themselves to say any prayer to her, let their prayer to God be made in the spirit of union with her; in some way or other she must be introduced into their spiritual life. Soon enough, she will assert her full maternal rights.

Its Practice is the Systematic Recognition of . . .

It has been said above that the acts of attention to Mary should be regular and not infrequent. Definite devotions and prayers directed to her will be incorporated in the daily round. In addition, I will suggest some “devices,” the purpose of which is to recall and emphasize the place of Mary in what we might be inclined to look on as our non-Marian devotions. Again, it is insisted that there is no such thing in Christianity as non-Marian devotion. One might as well talk of a prayer which does not belong to Jesus. But, while the truth that Our Blessed Lord is the life of every prayer is not in the faintest danger of being obscured, there is a very real danger-in fact, there is the probability-that Mary may be imagined to be concerned only with prayer in which her name occurs. But, emphatically, Mary has no province on her own part at all. Under Jesus, her Son and her Lord, the whole Christian life is her realm.

. . The God-Assigned Part of Mary . . .

The little devices, which I speak of and which typify De Montfort’s method, are just an assertion of that Divine principle. They may be very potent for that reason. They indicate and honour Mary’s share in those prayers and parts of our life wherein her name is not specifically mentioned. It is nothing daring, therefore, to say that such a little token of Mary, introduced into a longer prayer addressed to God, may immeasurably enhance its worth. The reason is not that Mary adds anything to God, but that Mary does add something to every prayer to God.

The expedients which I give below will in turn suggest others. One is inclined to make excuses for their childishness, but I recall that in this form of devotion, which we are considering, we are as children-nay, more, as babes. Similarly, many of the examples which De Montfort gives possess an element of the commonplace or human which may not appeal to all. But, as has been wisely remarked, the suitability of the means set at work for the uplifting of humanity must not be estimated according to the nature of God, but according to our own. Let us not forget that the Incarnation itself was made for us and for our salvation.

. In Every Operation of the Spiritual Life.

(a) In your prayer-book or Office-book or Missal keep a favourite picture of Our Lady, which you will cause to project above the pages while you read. Fix certain “landmarks,” such, for instance, as the turning of each page, which will occasion a resting of your eye on that representation of her who is at that moment, and all the moments of your life, the essential supplement to your prayer and the channel whereby its fruits are entering your soul. This will be a way of keeping in mind and of acknowledging the faithful love of Mary.

(b) De Montfort suggests the putting of statues and pictures in places where they will arrest the attention, and thus cause the uplifting of the thoughts to God through Mary.

(c) Every prayer or devotion which is not directed to Mary should be followed by an Ave or a Marian ejaculation. Intend this to be a formal ratification of the acceptance of Jesus which Mary made on your behalf at the Annunciation. Had you, that night, been excluded from her words of consent, you would now be outside the Redemption. Therefore, your life must endorse her representative capacity. At every giving of His grace, God requires that endorsement, expressed or implied.

(d) Even when not praying to Mary, be fond of holding her beads in your hand. This will serve to remind you that her hands are really always twined in those of you, her child, and that in fact your prayer is always made with her.

(e) Another expedient may prove of value, especially to those who are in the habit of saying an Office, of which but little is actually addressed to Mary. Every time that you repeat the “Gloria,” simultaneously cause your finger to form (on the page, or on the prie-dieu, or in the air, anywhere so long as it is inconspicuously done) the letter M, thereby acknowledging the threefold relation of Mary to the Divine Persons, and signifying that as we receive every grace and blessing from Them through her, so through her we render thanks to Them and give Them glory always.

The Belief that the Devotion is an Ultra-Select One . . .

It is the accepted opinion that the “True Devotion” is a select devotion, one for persons of special quality or aided by a special grace-”for oddities and mystics” too many would bluntly put it. Such a current view marks a doubly serious position. Firstly, it instances a defective popular appreciation of Mary; but enough has been already said on that. Secondly, it means that the chances of improvement are being hopelessly prejudiced. Many will be kept even from opening the book, while those who do undertake it will read it through glasses biased and all out of focus. Reflect how human nature, so influenced, operates, and it will be realized what will be the attitude towards the many difficult things encountered, and how very remote is the Devotion’s prospect of acceptance .

. . . Will be Dispelled by the Diffusion of the Legion . . .

Therefore, of immense interest in this connection is the uprise of the organization known as the Legion of Mary, which is now found widely spread in the world, and which declares itself to be built on a fullness of devotion to Mary which approximates to, or is equivalent to, De Montfort’s own special form. The Legion, as it grows, must necessarily dispel false notions on the subject of the “True Devotion.” In fact, it should completely turn the tables, and in the end convince the world that the “True Devotion” is a popular devotion, a commonplace of Catholic life. But why should this be hoped for? It is because the Legion is not composed of special souls or unusual types, but of ordinary Catholics living the everyday life of the world. Its membership comprises the learned and the unlearned, labourers and leisured, the unemployed, widely differing classes, colours, races, including not a few whom the world would classify as primitive or depressed. In a word, it represents typical Catholicism, so that what it can do all Catholics of good-will can do.

. . . Of Mary, Which Aspires to De Montfort’s Spirit . . .

If Mary is vital to common spirituality, how much more so to those who set their hearts on uncommon living, or who aim at an apostolate? Jesus was not originally given to the world-nor is He now-save by Mary. The Legion really recognizes this. Its title is not intended to be an empty one. The Legion is built, from top to bottom and through and through, on this most potent principle of union with Mary. By a deliberate, full, filial, acknowledgement in thought, word and deed, of that principle, it aspires to attract to itself this fruitful, this necessary action of Mary, which it will then lavish on souls through the medium of its intensive apostolate .

. . . And Seeks to Reproduce It in the Work . . .

So Legionaries complement their title with forms of prayer, ritual, emblems, which express and keep them in mind of the salient principle of the Legion that they must do all their acts in a spirit of union with Mary; in such sort that (as De Montfort, quoting St. Ambrose, puts it) the soul of Mary will be in each of them to magnify the Lord; so much so that they will be able to say to God with confidence, Behold Mary Thy handmaid; be it done unto me according to Thy word. From the first meeting they attend, in the first task assigned to them. they learn that they must expect to accomplish anything of worth only in the measure that their service of their neighbour embodies this principle. For-note it well-what they are inclined to call their work, is in reality Mary’s own proper and essential work. She was engaged on that work before they were born. She has, in fact, been exquisitely busied on it from the time of the Annunciation to this very day; for Christ and His Mystical Body are one. Hence, legionaries do not really bring Mary to help them in their service of the other members of the Mystical Body. Mary it is who summons them to assist her. No one can take part save by her gracious permission .

. . . And in the Lives of All Its Members.

Such being the spirit of the whole Legionary work, it will be realized how desirable it is that every legionary-not alone its active members, but likewise each one of its great host of auxiliary members-should, if possible, possess a copy of De Montfort’s monumental exposition of the “True Devotion.” They should read it again and again, and fully comprehend it and bring it into whole-hearted play in their spiritual life. Only then will they enter into the spirit of the Legion of Mary, to which, as the Legion itself declares, Grignion de Montfort is veritably tutor.

To Sum Up, the Devotion Depends On . . .

I have come to the end. Now just a word of summing up.

I have carefully refrained from attempting a commentary or a paraphrase of the book. I felt that something different was needed. In the course of these pages I have referred to the ordinary reader of De Montfort as being like a man in need of a telescope, and by “ordinary reader” I fear I mean almost every reader. I have dearly longed to construct that homely instrument-in which a few lenses are so contrived that they adjust the vision to a new relation-a secret of nature to supplement De Montfort’s “secret of grace.”

. . . The Mastering of Its Basic Principle.

It will be seen that I have done nothing more than pick out one idea from the book. I have tried to show that it is its central idea, and in fact the key to the book. I have tried to explain that idea, which is part and parcel of the idea of the Mystical Body, and which is crystallized in the extract from St. Augustine which has been quoted. Finally, it has been my contention that if all the other ideas of the book are brought into relation to that central idea, they take on a simplicity of form which they had not before; or rather everything is as it was before, but we see it differently.

Then, It Will Open Up a New World of Mary.

However clumsily I have performed my labour of love, I cannot help feeling that the effect of this simple “telescope” is startling; that when it is applied to the True Devotion by the “ordinary reader,” a new world is opened up to him. Ideas which appeared to be fantastic are discovered to be necessary doctrine. What were thought to be perfervid outbursts have become ice-cold theology. A select devotion is seen to be in reality the practice of a common but pure Catholicism. The almost incomprehensible is shown to be so easy and so logical that I have actually found myself suggesting it as an efficacious means of conciliating the prejudices even of the ultra-prejudiced against Mary.

Deficiencies Which Readers Think They Find in It . . .

My “telescope” is not built upon the book. Other than when dealing with some typical objections, I have hardly quoted from the latter. I could almost have left out De Montfort’s name altogether. I have sought in this way to emphasize the fact that this Introduction, though made to point at the book, is as independent of it as a telescope is of the star. This completely independent treatment of the subject, ending in the same conclusions, gives it some added value as an aid to the book.

Every objection to the True Devotion which I have mentioned in these pages has oppressed myself. I also speak with knowledge of the views of a very great number who have read the book. I am not going to traverse ground already covered.

I simply say that some “adjusting-mechanism” is required. I think the lines of mine are generally right, but if it does not work, it is imperative that someone should attempt another. I would have been glad to have something of the kind a score of years ago when first I read the “True Devotion.” I still have vivid recollection of that first reading. The book was laid aside. I would not have opened it again but for the dear tyranny of a friend. He exacted repeated readings, which wer e grudgingly conceded. Then gradually it dawned on me that the book was an inspired production; that it was right and I was wrong; what it said was true and had the character of a special message; the excesses which I thought I found in it were really deficiencies in myself, wide gaps in knowledge and apprehension. I realized that I must try to fill them in, and to some extent succeeded. Ever since, the book has been a source of light to me, so that I add myself to those who bless the day in which it came to them.

. . . Are Really Deficiencies in Themselves.

I must be pardoned for this last-moment lapse into the personal; I would have wished it otherwise. But I desperately desire to assert my kinship of experience with all those countless first-time readers of the “True Devotion,” who will consider it “extreme,” and may be minded to put it disastrously from them. That kinship entitles me to tell them that the fault is in themselves. They really only look on Mary as a very influential friend, whereas she is the very mother of their soul; not as mother of the born, nor even of the unborn babe, but more intense, far more vital-the mother of our all-dependence. as De Montfort gloriously shows her, Mother of grace.

Its Reading May be a Time of Destiny.

According to their faith will they receive; so from this point may every reader start in a receptive spirit, and may the princely treatise be to each of them “the fair beginning of a nobler time.”

********

The Devil

BY NIALL BRENNAN

INDEX

The Devil may well be called the Cinderella of Christianity. Nobody likes him, everyone jokes about him, and the moment anyone discusses him seriously there is a frigid silence which is the inevitable consequence of a social error.

The purpose of this pamphlet is to speak seriously about the devil. It is not an easy task, for you, reader, and I are both genially sceptical about the idea of a fellow with horns who butters our ears with seductive sales talk. We are amused at the idea of his tail, faintly contemptuous of the fire that comes from his black lips and we are inclined to ridicule his pink tights. We are homely and intelligent people who have outgrown such fancies.

But in our contempt for fancies, it would be advisable not to be too contemptuous of realities; and therein lies the difficulty of he who dares to comment seriously upon the concept of the diabolic monarch. There is a healthy and enlightened scepticism abroad which refuses to be badgered by witchdoctors into the acceptance of a satanic spook. There is a popular legend, in which even Christians are not entirely free, of a comic opera figure with a cloak. The Devil, perhaps more than any other character in history, has been burlesqued and caricatured. Woe betide the writer who tries to be serious on such a subject.

One could, of course, terrorise his reader by thundering about hell-fire and damnation in the manner of Pastor Amos at the Church of the Quivering Brethren.

“Ye miserable crawling worms . . . have ye come like Nimshi son of Rehiboam, secretly out of yer doomed houses to hear what’s comin’ to ye? Have ye come to hear me tellin’ o’ the great crimson lickin’ flames o’ hell fire?”

But no, reader. My purpose is not to frighten you, but rather to issue a warning in friendly tone-as I would do if I observed you climbing into bed with a boa constrictor. No doubt there would be a moment of initial terror, the terror of discovery, but neither the boa-constrictor in our bed nor the devil in our heart need frighten us so much that we would be incapable of taking cool and collected action to deal with the situation.

You will realise the additional difficulty of the commentator’s task when I tell you that we have to consider something, the shape, colour, and size of which is a matter for speculation. The devil is a highly intelligent spirit whose outward appearance is selected for the particular occasion. I concede that he may sometimes adopt the cloven hoof and the horns, for he may very well disguise himself as a cow in order to deceive a milkmaid; but he is equally capable of being an upright business-man on his way to receive a knighthood, or even a completely uninhibited thought in our head. These things are but minor variables; it is his nature and purpose with which we are concerned.

Do not shuffle restlessly in your seat, reader, nor mutter about fables and fictions designed to frighten children into obeying the priests. You do not upbraid the courier who brings tidings of impending flood for his assault upon your complaisance. The mere fact that you cannot comprehend the concept of a devil, or that you think his existence to be unlikely is but a trivial aside. But at the same time you have an argument when you assert the impossibility of there being a devil. There is an argument based upon the fact of God, the fact of an all-powerful and benevolent deity. If you and I both believe in God, then it is permissable for you to assert that the idea of an evil spirit, and the idea of an all-powerful and loving God are incompatible.

Your assertion, springing from the heart of your belief in God, is a powerful one, rich in persuasive force. The whole idea of a devil is repugnant to your concept of God’s wisdom, goodness and mercy. You cannot reconcile the idea of God being either all powerful or merciful with the concept of a malevolent gargantua stalking the world and enticing harmless and inoffensive folk like you and me into the eternal fires of the damned,

Your argument gathers momentum: if we are simply a harmless set of innocents, should not God protect us from the evil influence of Satan. If we are not innocent, but sin in sincerity, how can God blame us for doing what we believe to be right, or at least indifferent. Either we are weak enough to be pulled from God, in which case we have a just call on His mercy; or else the Devil is strong enough to defeat God’s efforts to save us, in which case God would not seem to be allpowerful.

There does appear to be a legitimate contradiction there. Yet it may only be a superficial contradiction. Consider this alternative point of view:

Suppose one person had the power, the absolute power of creating another. Something like Baron Frankenstein, only on a more competent level. Suppose the creator was a good man, that is to say, loving, just and merciful. Is it not reasonable that he would look for the love of his creation? Love always looks for reciprocation. If you love anybody, you like to think they also love you. The creator, seeking the love of his creation, would have these alternatives. If he had the absolute ability to create them, he could create them so that they would have to have no choice but to return his love. He could limit their intellect to that one channel. He could procure a blind and unswerving, even doglike devotion, by simply limiting their ability to do otherwise.

But if he did that, he would be procuring their devotion by taking advantage of his own superiority. If the creator is absolutely good, would he choose such a way of securing their loyalty. If the creator really loved his creation, do you think he would be capable of forcing their love in return. A love freely given is much more precious.

Note again the two alternatives the creator has: to limit his creation’s will so that the Thing must, like it or not, love its Maker. Or give to the Thing the power of making its own decision-to love or not to love its Maker.

Obviously, in the second alternative, the Creator is himself proving a greater love on his part than in the first alternative because he is giving more away. Recognising the precious nature of a love freely given, and the worthlessness of a love forced by any means, the Creator is thus prepared to stake all on getting the genuine, rather than the spurious article. He is giving the creation, not only the ability not to love him; he is giving his creation the power to withhold everything from his creator, for which his creator created him. He is doing this for no other reason than love.

Thus is love compatible with hate; thus may evil flow out of good. Thus indeed may a devil have a place in God’s world.

* * *

Sin is not simply a breach of the law of God. Sin is that word by which we describe the act of rejecting God. We sometimes think of sin as being wrong; we would be more accurate if we thought of it as foolish. We cannot commit sin in ignorance as we can a civil offence. We can cross against the red light without seeing it, and still be fined. But if we cross against the heavenly red light without seeing it, we are not fined. We might observe the worldly red light for convenience only, and at the same time express our sulky dislike for the government. We commit no civil wrong by doing that. But if we observe God’s laws in that frame of mind, then we commit sin-not by the act, but by the implicit rejection of God.

The fact of sin and the fact of God’s mer cy and goodness cannot be contradictory; they are necessarily complementary. Our ability to commit sin is derived directly from God’s, goodness in giving us a free choice. God did not order a blind, restricted faith. He asks for the love of man, freely given.

It is the same with Hell. We tend to think of Hell as a place where those who have crossed against the Heavenly red light are jailed among the red hot coals.

It is, perhaps, an understandable error, but none the less it is false. For Hell is simply that place where the souls of those who have rejected God-rejected Him absolutely and of their own free choice- foregather after death.

It may be uncomfortable because rejecting God is also a rather foolish rejection of good things. But if we deliberately stay away from a banquet because we affect a dislike for the persons giving it, even though they have invited us, we cannot very well blame them if we feel some remorse at the thought of the delicacies we have missed.

Why, then, should any normal, saneman wish to reject God. One reason is that man’s free will is not subjected to one, but to two opposing forms of persuasive influence-the wishes of God as expressed in God’s law, and the propaganda of the devil. Man is not a perfect creature, but an odd mixture of contradictory impulses which date from the first free choice-that made by Adam and Eve, who could not see any reason why God should forbid them to taste the fruit of a certain tree; the Serpent’s persuasion turned contemplation Into temptation and finally into what we call sin-the first or original sin.

Why did Lucifer, the devil, do this? Why, in the first place did he rebel against God? You know he did, of course, for there is ample biblical evidence to support it. The reason why he did it is not at all clear in detail. Theologians who love the professorial game of hairsplitting have never been able to fully agree, but they have agreed on this simplification-that Lucifer’s sin was pride. Lucifer was the greatest of God’s Creations, but like the lowliest man, he was possessed of that faculty given to him by a loving and merciful God, of making up his mind. For any one of a number of reasons, he found the position of subordination incompatible with his desires. It was simply a case of “non-serviam”; I will not serve, or, as Milton has expressed it in Paradise Lost,”better to rule in Hell than serve in Heaven.”

Lucifer was the greatest of God’s creatures. Odd that a being possessed of the radiant majesty Of an archangel, should experience the sin of pride, but we may well recollect that pride usually grows with ascents in dignity and status, and even on earth comes mainly to those who already have a full quota of dignity and status. History is littered with the remnants of autocrats who had gained much and wanted more; they are the temperamental heirs to the Light Bearer’s tradition. It may be that Lucifer had been given what we term colloquially, a preview of the Incarnation; and it ill-befitted the Chief Archangel to bend the knee before a baby born in a manger in an Asiatic village. The Chief Archangel decided to open business on his own account. The fall of Lucifer is adequately described in the scriptures. In Luke X, 18, the Saviour claimed to have seen “Satan as lightning falling from Heaven.” The incident is described in greater detail in Apocalypse XII, 7–9. We know Christ was tempted by Satan during the forty days fast in the desert; and the New Testament recounts cases of diabolic possession and makes numerous direct and oblique references to the Evil Spirit.

The adequacy of the scriptures for proving historical facts may be questioned: this certainly is no place to begin an entirely separate discussion on the authenticity of the Bible, but it may be stated here that those people who are prepared to accept the authority of the Bible in regard to the pleasant things it postulates have no sound ground for not accepting its authority on the unpleasant things it postulates as well.

We have neither the time nor the inclination in this essay to argue with the materialist to whom the whole of the Bible, which for the most part he has not read, is repugnant. Such a man will believe many things: he will believe Caesar’s account of the Gaelic Wars, which is far less reliable; what is worse, he will, after proof after proof to the contrary, believe what he reads in the newspapers. But there are none so blind as those who will not see, and there is a certain type of man for whom one can only pray. They measure fact by likelihood, and the Bible offends both their limited mind and their unlimited ego.

But there are in addition to these, a number of well-meaning folk who have a kind of sentimental attachment to the Saviour, who believe quite readily that Christ was God, but whose pleasant, friendly, and charitable Sunday-afternoon notion of religion cannot quite comprehend the Evil Spirit. They have watered down their faith, not to what they understand like the egomaniacal rationalist, but to what they wish to believe. To believe in a happy after-life is not unpleasant. It is more pleasant than not to believe in any after-life at all. There is a difference only of degree between the man who won’t believe in God because God’s law and God’s Being impose too many restraints and the man who adjusts God’s law and God’s Being to suit himself.

If a man believes in the divinity of Christ, he is caught. He cannot honestly escape belief in the Devil. The capacity for self delusion required to wriggle out of that would be too much.

The notion of a devil is not, however, peculiar to either the Catholic religion in particular or the Christian religion in general. We have already adverted to the fact that no figure in history or legend has been so perpetually burlesqued as His Satanic Majesty. This may of course have an inner significance. It may be the cheerful singing of the man on the scaffold, or the affectation of innocence so characteristic of the small boy with an uneasy conscience. To laugh at the devil may be a ready method of forgetting him.

However, taking an overall view of tradition and popular antiquities, it is hard to find a more universally well-known identity-which, by and large, is not a bad feat for a fantasy, if that is all he is. Perhaps the best known devil of legend, is the Mephistopheles of Goethe’s Faust, who answers to all the popular specifications—cloak, waxed moustache, horns, tail, and such cloven hooves as an operatic stage manager can devise. But the Devil is mentioned in Shakespeare and not entirely in a cynical sense, and both Dante and Milton found him a fit subject, not for a sneer, but for an epic. In Mr. John Brand’s “Observations on Popular Antiquities,” however, there is a long list of popular fables about the devil, such as the story that goats are never seen for twenty-four consecutive hours because at least once a day they visit the devil to get their beards trimmed and combed. Mr. Brand writes as if there were little difference between the habits of the devil and the habits of the Catholic Church. Obviously he does not believe any of these fables; neither, reader, do you or I. But I cannot help being impressed by the attitude to the devil of the three greatest poets of all time, and I cannot help Contrasting it with the attitude of a little upstart cynic of the nineteenth century. Mr. Brand wrote his book at a time when nineteenth century materialism had disposed effectively, not only of witchcraft and sorcery, but of God as well, and was busily engaged in establishing the capitalist and the empire-building buccaneer as a model of human perfection. The capacity, of people to believe in plausible tommy-rot was never more fully demonstrated than in. the cult of Darwinism, which spread like a bushfire among the intelligentsia, and if it be admitted that to some misguided people both the devil and God have been objects, of superstition, neither of them can approach as opiates of the people, the vast ramifications of the film industry, tea-cup reading, walking under ladders, black cats, lucky charms, good luck tokens, astrology with its good days for this and bad days for that, the blind faith in bookmakers’ systems, or lighting three cigarettes with one match, to mention but a few of the allegedly enlightened habits and customs of a civilisation which is too enlightened to believe in a devil.

If we are to be influenced at all by the beliefs of others, we may as well be influenced by people whose opinions are worth while; I have no doubt but that Shakespeare is as reliable an authority as Havelock Ellis or Bernard Shaw. It is neither rational nor dignified to substitute for a tolerably well established belief in a spirit order, with good and bad elements, the almost mystical rationalism of Freud, and Bertrand Russell, especially when the devotees of the latter indulge in everyday superstitions which would put to shame the voodooism of the lowest grade savage. I remember very clearly one free-thinking young lady who, while being fanatically horrified at the suggestion that she pay any honour to the Mother of God, was far more fanatically addicted to the observance of Mother’s Day. She had thrown off the shackles of orthodox religion. But she had not freed herself from the influence of modern advertising.

For those who wish to make some study of the case for a personal evil spirit, I recommend you to the more or less standard bibliography on demonology, black magic, devil worship; and certain aspects of spiritism, coupled with such biographies as those of the Cure of Ars, who had vivid personal experiences. If you are genuinely interested in manifestations of the supernatural in general, there is a collection of treatises, at least as well documented as many scientific treatises.

I have always inclined to the view that loose distinctions between the natural and the supernatural create an invidious comparison, which immediately has the effect of offending certain people’s rationalistic sensitivities. If we were to think more in terms of the known and the unknown, and if we were to treat the natural and the supernatural as being both essentially reasonable, we would at least see that there is continually as much visible evidence for the existence of a personal evil spirit as there is, for example, for a thing like atomic energy. For example: get right down to the depths of your own soul and see if you can entirely explain all your own conduct without reference to those opposing forces of good and evil which we have already discussed. We may agree that there are certain standards of behaviour which are good. We do not kill, we do not steal, we do not covet our neighbour’s wife. We may be entirely agreed that these rules are necessary for society’s well-being. But the materialist, who would have you believe that man’s actions are guided solely by reference to the common good, has only one answer to the question why, in spite of all men’s reason, why in spite of all the perfection and disinterested platonism of the materialist man, why in spite of all these things, man still does what is wrong-even by materialist standards. His only answer is that man is a creature of impulses over which he has no control.

There are some materialists who will not admit the existence of any objective standard of right or wrong, but will insist that right and wrong are purely relative. All that means is, it’s wrong when you do it, but not when I do it. The State finds it necessary to impose a set of overall laws on human conduct-modelled in most cases on the Ten Commandments, let it be observed. Is it not obvious that when societies all over the world have recognised this fact, and have recognised the basic similarities between their respective sets of laws, that there must, over the whole range of mankind, be something which can only be termed the natural law. To deny the natural law is to avow the law of the jungle. True, some materialists will not hesitate short of that, but I don’t think we can admit them into serious discussion. If, then, there is a natural law, why is it ever broken? Why is it that a man who believes in the general principle of not coveting his neighbour’s wife, will in fact covet his neighbour’s wife? The Christian has, of course, the answer-that man is an imperfect creature, subject to two compelling external influences-God and the Devil. In short, Man is free to choose God, but he is equally open to suggestion by the devil as well.

The materialist has no answer to this problem. He will mumble something about impulses, or reflexes, and ask what does it matter. He must declare himself for the law of the jungle or the natural law. If he espouses the law of the jungle, he lays himself open to the legitimate charge of being a far more disruptive force in society than the veriest witchdoctor who ever existed; if he admits the natural law, he cannot explain why he doesn’t always obey the natural law.

You see, instead of the spiritual man, who freely recognises that he is an imperfect creature, torn between conflicting desires, and who strives after perfection out of the love of God, we have evolved the humanitarian man-a person suffering from elephantiasis of the ego, who believes he is capable of doing good for its own sake, but who does not admit an objective standard of good, cannot define what good is, and recognises at the same time an uncertain law which has no lawmaker.

We all agree that “love thy neighbour” is a good thing, but we are far more solicitous for the welfare of a foreign people whom we do not personally know than for the welfare of our next door neighbour whom we do know. We are against capital punishment for criminals, yet we see a virtue in killing the very sick. We are prepared to treat all our criminals as pathological cases deserving of sympathy, yet we are thirsty for the blood of war criminals. We consider that two men who fight a duel to satisfy their honour are rather foolish and uncivilised, yet we raise no objection to whole nations fighting duels. We insist upon writing democracy into the constitution, yet we refuse to speak to our next door neighbour if he happens to belong to another political or religious group. We will subscribe to the Food for Britain appeal and any other that comes along, yet if we see a man prostrate in the gutter, we presume he is drunk, and pass him by with a sneer. In short, this “humanitarianism” is a condition of feeling good, rather than doing good; and it has produced a higher level of sheer hypocrisy, provided a subterfuge for worse evils than the plain humble spiritual life for which it is a substitute, was ever accused of doing. The merely humanitarian man is not only conceited, he is also a hypocrite.

If the ultimate proof of the existence of God lies in the order and majesty of the Universe, then the ultimate proof of the existence of a devil is surely found on earth-where in spite of all our enlightenment, our humanitarianism, our intelligence and our reason-in spite of all these things which are supposed to free us from the bondage of dogma and elevate us to the highest levels of human conduct-we find only the squalid filth of the slums, the unwholesome business of thieving and robbing which passes for trade, the exploitation of human lives in the interests of profits, the robbery and carnage which passes for war, the subjection of human personality to the slavery of the machine. This is the legacy of the humanitarian materialist, the person who thinks that society can get along without God, and who, by refusing to recognise the appeal of a higher life, retains no resistance to the call of a lower one.

I regret that I cannot show you a little devil sitting here on my desk, spitting fire and brimstone. I can only say, open your eyes and look around you.

* * * *

We have dealt with the relation of the devil to God. What, then, of the relations between the devil and Man. In a word, temptation.

Temptation is not what it seems.

I recall once seeing a very fine illustration to Goethe’s Faust, of the temptation of Marguerite in the Church. It is an impressive picture, but it is not an accurate one. Marguerite is kneeling in her pew, she and the entire congregation are intent upon the service, and standing alongside her in the aisle, bending down and muttering, is the sinister figure of Mephistopheles, sword, red tights, cloak and all.

Such a picture is, of course, a simplification of the subject of temptation. Satan does not use the method of external suggestion largely because it is hopelessly inefficient. You know yourself that you will seldom be willing to commit a wrongful act proposed by your friend; you may very well be indignant at his temerity in suggesting that you rob the orchard that night, or that you covet Smithson’s wife. You may even rebuke him. But at the same time when the idea occurs to you independently, then, by the fact of it being your own idea, you are more favourably disposed to it, are you not? Obviously, then, if your closest friend cannot tempt you to commit evil, it is unlikely that an evil spirit, whom you would immediately recognise from his very deportment and attire would succeed. With a great show of virtue you could shout “Vade retro mihi, Sathanas.”

Satan is no fool, and perhaps the best proof of that lies in the nature of both temptation and sin. For in the first place the external temptation of Satan is invariably presented to us as our own personal idea, often supported by our own apparently intelligent and apparently unbiased reasoning. Temptation is not an open suggestion to some obvious crime. It is rather a reasonable, and thoroughly plausible belief in one’s own freedom from Satanic influence.

You have probably heard people say, that although they do not espouse any particular religion, they believe in “live and let live,” they do no harm to anyone, and they cannot see why they should have to do anything in a positive sense to win God’s favour.

Now that is a difficult proposition. But it has to be faced because it is said so often. The answer to it is contained in what I have already said of sin, namely, that sin is not the breach of a heavenly law in the sense of going against a red light, but is intrinsically the rejection of God. We might now go further than that and say that if God asks for our devotion, he asks for something that is not given by simply doing nothing. God asks that we go to Him; not that we just sit and vegetate. Serving God is not a passive thing, but something active.

Now, concurrently with this, is the fact that, although we may be tempted towards sin, by the evil spirit who desires that we shall sin, and who is prepared to strain every effort on his part to make us sin, we are not tempted towards virtue, because God, does not want to interfere with our free choice, Thus at the outset the two opposing influences to good and to evil are on the surface initially weighted against God.

That is an important thing, to remember, because it means simply that the person who says, “I shall do nothing,” is in fact exposed more to one influence than the other. He is exposed to the direct and unhindered influence of Satan, while lacking the open support of God. You see the difference! Both God and the Devil want to capture our souls. God wants us to make a free choice, the Devil is prepared to exploit every opportunity.

But since we agreed at the outset that God is just, what we ask is just about this? Surely the scales are weighted against us? God wants us, yet he will not help us. The Devil wants us and will help us.

The answer is contained in that old and oft abused and misquoted maxim that God helps those who help themselves. God has provided a battery of fortifications against the devil for the use of those who require them. To those men who say to him, God, we are against the devil, but the fight is a hard one, will you help, God has replied yes, and these are the fortifications-the sacraments, prayer, grace, and all those elements contained in the organism which we know as the Church. The protection is there. It begins with the sacrament of Baptism, the initial cleansing of the soul. It is continued in the sacrament of Confirmation, which has been called the sacrament of strength. It is maintained week to week, or, better still, day to day, by the sacrament of the Eucharist, the sacrifice of the Mass, and the sacrament of Penance. Extreme Unction is the sacrament received at the moment of death, and matrimony and holy orders are sacraments for the most part alternative for those adopting a particular way of life.

It is because the battle against the devil is a battle, calling for the use and application of particular weapons, that the “humanitarian” man or the merely good man are rarely humanitarian or good at all. It may be possible that in any given case they are embryonic saints. But it is not likely, precisely because the condition of feeling good is akin to the lowering of your guard and is therefore the moment when you are most likely not to be doing good.

You cannot get away from certain basic facts. God demands a standard of near perfection. You have the divine virtues of faith, hope and charity which can be rattled off the tongue with much more ease than they can be observed. Temptation is either (a) a rational and intelligent desire to do something we shouldn’t or (b) a lazy and indifferent antipathy to doing something we should. The result is that friendship with God is only achieved by a constant and unceasing active performance or abstention.

Again, the pull to evil is the pull to superficially pleasant things. Many of us, for example, would feel far happier if the rule against lust were repealed. It is of little use maintaining a virtuous stand against a temptation we have never felt; there isn’t much virtue in doing something you don’t mind doing; indeed, you may be exposing yourself to positive danger by weakening your defensive system. The person who appreciates that lust is a physically enjoyable thing is far more likely to keep away from the possibility of committing it than the person who adopts an offhanded attitude towards it in ordinary life, and is suddenly seized with opportunities and desires completely new to him.

It is the same with all other sins. To heartily despise one individual is to obliterate all the virtue we derive from overt charitable work, and faith in God on Sunday is of small account unless accompanied by faith on Monday as well. Mephistopheles would not be fool enough to tempt Marguerite while she is preparing for Communion in the pious atmosphere of a church. He is far more likely to wait until the following Saturday night when Marguerite is a little heady in the exuberant atmosphere of an uninhibited party. And if he does nothing else he can claim some success if Marguerite only contrasts her own piety with the sinfulness of all around her. Satan, as I said, is no fool. If you go to church often, he will tell you how good you are. If you avoid occasions of passion and affect a highbrow disdain for the type of entertainment you get at certain music halls, he may fit a little halo around your head. If you organise balls and bazaars for the suffering poor of Europe or the orphans at South Melbourne, he may provide you with a next door neighbour who in all intelligent reason you cannot regard as your own moral or social equal.

It has been rightly said that it is often the great sinners who are closest to God-Mary Magdalen, and St. Augustine, and the millions of others who have known and learnt to dread the big sins. Perhaps the man who lives near you, whom you know to be a drunkard addicted to vice and wife-beating is in fact nearer to God than you are, for who is to know what goes on in his mind in his awakening moments, whether from his soul there sometimes comes the anguished cry that the Saviour uttered in the agony of thecrucifixion: “My God, My God, why hast thou forsaken me?”

The person who knows sin through experience is not likely to get the same innocent joy out of it as the person who lives in a perpetual atmosphere of unassuming rectitude. There are too many examples of divine grace showered on the habitual but repentant sinner for us to doubt that. The thief of Calvary is perhaps the best example; he was a man whose identification of himself with God-by the humility and infinite pathos of his self-realisation-was promised Paradise that very day, a fortune which very few of us who have led good lives could hope for.

It is not the sinner who wanders through the dark passages of his own torment that Satan is so much concerned with. That kind of man is capable of hating sin, Satan and himself with a passion that amounts almost to ferocity. It is the adequate man, the man who feels good, the man who alms at a negative sufficiency and no higher that Satan is concerned with. You do not have to murder a man to merit damnation; it may be sufficient merely to think ill of him. We cannot tell just how or what in other people constitutes a sin, even though we often offer uninvited opinions on the subject; and Satan is never happier than when we are searching other people’s souls instead of our own.

There are many people who think that the teaching of the Catholic Church on this vital subject is brusque, cruel, and arbitrary. It may be based upon a priest they have heard thundering about hellfire from a pulpit; it may be based on the superficial and strictly formal attitude of a number of Catholics. But whatever it is, it is wrong; the Church has never claimed to be free of sinners. The doctrine of the devil is none of those things. It is the doctrine of a militant service t o God, bred from the knowledge that we need Him. There are many of us who are prepared to die for God. That is not enough. We must live for Him as well.

Nihil obstat:

F. MOYNIHAN, Censor Deputatus.

Imprimatur:

@ D. MANNIX,

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis. 1946

********

The Dignity of Motherhood

BY REV. PETER SCHMITZ, S.V.D

INDEX

DIGNITY OF THE CHRISTIAN WIFE AND MOTHER

There is a song which is so sweet and tender and at the same time affects us so powerfully that from the earliest times it has always charmed the ear of man, deeply penetrating the hearts of all throughout the centuries. This is the glorious song of a mother’s love. Like a melody out of fairyland it surrounds our tender childhood, in later years it penetrates our souls, admonishing and conquering us, and when old age has come upon us, it comes back once more from the days of our childhood, nostalgic and sad. Nay, when hearts have grown hard and feelings blunted, the sacred melody of a mother’s love still exerts a magic power over us and, as we listen, there rises up before our minds an image of the ideal woman embodied in our own good mother; and if we should ask what is most noble and glorious, nay most sacred, unequalled in value, in the whole world, even the silver haired old man will answer: a mother.

People are right to look up to the mother with reverence and esteem, nay with a certain holy awe. We especially have every reason to look up to our mothers with genuine esteem, for when we see our mothers in the light of our holy religion, we must bow in reverent awe before the high dignity of our mothers. For it is God Himself who transfigured and ennobled the motherhood of our women, casting upon it a supernatural light. From the Godhead above we see a light shed upon the motherhood of our Catholic women. This light reveals to us the high dignity of the mother proceeding from her origin, all that she stands for and her far-reaching significance.

In order to convince ourselves of the profound dignity of Motherhood in the Christian sense, let us consider it from its first beginning, from its ultimate source. Our Christian motherhood has its place in the world whose Creator is the Lord God. We see in it no mere natural event of nature, nor the result of a slow, gradual evolution from the animal kingdom without any higher intervening power. No, our faith shows us that human motherhood originated in a very different way. We see at the beginning of man’s history two human beings, and we observe how the Lord God gave to Adam a helpmate, not a slave, perceiving her destiny in the name that was bestowed upon her; for this name means “Mother of all the living.” In the womb of the first woman lay the first foundation, the root of the future generations. This first woman was to be a mother in accordance with her chief destiny. And God Himself had given her this task.

Here lies the foundation of all motherhood, the source from which springs all motherhood to the present day. This fountain is no other than the Lord God Himself. It was the omnipotence of God that founded motherhood in the first woman in the world, and that, through the laws of nature, lets the stream of life continue to flow through every woman who becomes a mother in accordance with His will. For in its origin motherhood is profoundly anchored in the eternal foundations of the Godhead.

But surely that which comes from the sublime Divinity must of necessity be something high and noble, something glorious and holy? Must it not, furthermore, receive a supernatural consecration from this source? If every mother were ever conscious that she also becomes a mother only by the omnipotence of the Lord God what profound reverence and esteem she must have for herself! With what love she would devote herself to her high calling! How conscientiously she would carry out the duties of the office to which God Himself has called her!

Thus we perceive the dignity of the mother as holy and sublime when we only consider her origin alone. How much greater it becomes when we consider what she signifies, when we consider her inmost being!

THE MOTHER AN ALTAR OF GOD

The following expressive words are to be found in one of the oldestChristian books: “Let the mother know she is an altar of God.” How beautiful and how appropriate when applied to every truly Christian mother! Is not every mother actually an altar of sacrifice on which she must continually offer herself up? Oh, Christian mother, what has made you truly a mother of your children? Did the Lord God take some earth and with it make a little human body, and imparting to it an immortal soul, lay it at your breast, saying: “Behold, here is your child! Now, you shall be a mother!” But no. Not from the lifeless earth did He make your child, but from your own living flesh and blood. You had to give a part of yourself, to sacrifice something of yourself; then through the united love of you and your husband, the new human life came into being mysteriously, beneath your heart. During nine months you had to give blood from your heart to provide nourishment and life for your baby. Thus your womb became an altar on which a great sacrifice was offered up for your child’s well-being.

But in this sacrifice lay a marvellous power. Through this sacrifice you became the giver of a new life. By means of this sacrifice, giving from your own life to your child, you shared in the Divine Omnipotence which operated in you and through you, and let a new human life come into being within you. A feeling of profound awe filled your heart, perhaps, when in quiet hours hopes filled your breast as you became aware of great things passing within you:

“To me it is so wonderful! It is as though I have become Truly the workshop of God!”

In those days you were truly the workshop of God. The divine breath of life had awakened a new life within your womb. Nowhere in God’s wide world does the Eternal Omnipotence operate more gloriously, more sublimely than in the womb of a young mother who looks forward to her baby. There the All-Holy has, indeed, set up a workshop in which He Himself by the breath of His omnipotence forms the highest work of art. There stands also the altar of sacrifice on which the sacrificial fire of maternal love burns unceasingly, night and day. Hence the whole being of the expectant mother is wrapped in reverence and awe because great things are done in her. Hence it is that she spreads a veil of seclusion over the mystery of a babe being formed beneath her heart; hence her countenance is transfigured by the sweet, modest joy of the expectant mother. What a sad error is made by those mothers who feel ashamed of their pregnant state, who fear that the miracle of Life may be fulfilled in them!

While it is a sublime task to aid the Divine Creator in forming the human body, many sacrifices must be offered up to this end on the altar of the maternal heart. But to what heights must the maternal dignity soar when one considers that she is also destined by God to be the moulder of her child’s soul! Not only that this Divine spark which sprang directly from the Divine life, first rested hidden within her womb, but that the Lord God has entrusted this treasure to her above all others, to be faithfully guarded and reared. In order to fulfil this task her heart must be truly an altar on which she must daily offer up sacrifices to the All Highest for her children. Christian mother, you have been given the sublime task of bringing up your child-not first of all for this world and its claims, but for the Eternal God Whose image your child bears in its soul, for Him Who entrusted your child to you to keep for Him and to give back to Him at the end of his days in this life. You are a faithful servant of God, a trustworthy servant of the Most High. He has placed in your hands the highest and best in the whole creation of the world, the immortal human soul whose home is God Himself. Behold how God has chosen you, entrusted you with this task, honouring you, especially, by making you His deputy.

When you ponder over all this and realise clearly what a high dignity the Lord God has decreed shall be yours, making you capable of imparting your own flesh and blood to your child, entrusting to your faithful care the soul of the child, then your heart should be filled with holy thanksgiving, then in hours of quiet thought you, too, can rejoice with her who was most blessed: “He that is mighty hath done great things to me, and holy is His Name.” For His Spirit touches every mother and lets what is holy happen to her. Hence it is that there is something great about a mother. Every mother is clothed with a sublime and glorious dignity.

MOTHERHOOD AND PRIESTHOOD

But we have not yet said everything that appertains to the glorious greatness of maternal dignity. The subject has not yet been completely exhausted. If the dignity of motherhood is sublime on account of its origin and what it consists of, it is equally sublime and sacred on account of its significance. The mother’s calling has often been compared with that of the priest; it has been said that after the priest, the mother is the most important person in human society. This is true. What the priest is for the supernatural life of Christians, the mother is for the natural life of humanity. As the supernatural life is the special care of the priest who has to encourage and watch over it, so the natural human life of society finds its support in our mothers. Nay, the supernatural life of the Church to a large extent depends on the mothers. Motherhood and priesthood are in many ways alike.

MOTHERS THE CORE OF SOCIETY

All wives and mothers are the pillars of families, the well-springs of social life, the core of society. Take the mother away from the family and the family ceases to exist! If the wives and mothers were removed from the social life, all life would gradually cease, for soon there would be more coffins than cradles. If the mothers were torn from society, it would be the death-blow to society whose heart would thus be torn from its breast, as it were, we should find ourselves in an icy atmosphere because the warm sun of maternal love would have vanished for ever. The Church and the State may be said to have their foundations in our wives and mothers. Nay, every society that would continue to exist places its hopes in our wives and mothers.

Even Heaven itself looks down full of expectation, upon our mothers. Up there in the House of our heavenly Father, there are many mansions standing empty, many places unoccupied. It is the mothers who are destined to co-operate in filling these dwellings, in having these places occupied. Thus, mothers are not only the hope of humanity; they are, above all, the hope of Heaven.

So high, so sublime is her dignity that she reaches out far beyond this life on earth and has her efficacy and meaning even in Eternity. The Lord God first lights the undying spark of the human soul in the womb of the mother. Henceforth it shall shine throughout eternity. The human soul which through the creative breath of God, first imparted life to the embryo beneath the mother’s heart, will never die. No power of any creature can be extended so far as to bring destruction upon this soul, not even though by some horrible act, the embryonic life should never know the light of the sun. But the omnipotence of God which could destroy that which it created, has bound itself and will never permit to die that which it has called into existence. The life of the soul is eternal, without limit or end, even as Eternity is without end. The human being enters into this Eternity only through the mother; only because that mother allowed the life to awaken in her womb, does the human being enter Eternity.

But this is true not only of the soul; it is also entirely true with regard to the body. Of course the body must pass through the stage of decay, but on the last day it will rise up radiantly transfigured-to live unchanged for all eternity. Hence the body also enters Eternity through the mother.

Thus, if in a certain sense, Heaven itself is dependent on our mothers, surely the dignity of our mothers also ascends to Heaven. And so, Christian mother, when you think of the coming generations who had their beginning in your womb, and who will therefore one day thank you for their eternal happiness, then you also can saywith right: “From now all generations shall call me blessed.”

Such is the noble dignity of the Christian mother as it appears in the transfigured light of Faith. Women who were conscious of this dignity have always been the pride of the Church. It was such women as these who in the early Christian days caused thepagans to exclaim: “What noble women those Christian have!” It was this sublime dignity in our mothers also which made each one of us see the greatest natural sanctity in our own mother.

MODERN EFFORTS TO DESTROY MATERNAL DIGNITY

But today many forces are at work to destroy this sanctity, to recast in the pagan mould the maternal dignity which has been transfigured by Christianity. They do not see, or do not want to see, how they are degrading our women by tearing from their heads this radiant garland of motherhood. Those modern revolutionaries with liberal or socialist tendencies who set out to improve the world, pull down the rampart which protects this noble dignity of our mothers-I mean the Christian, sacramental marriage- setting up in its place the probation marriage, or marriage which can be dissolved at any time, “free love.” In so doing they trample upon the true dignity of the mother. The mother to whom we all look up with true esteem thus becomes at best a prostitute of the husband, with no more security than that provided by a registry office, a mere sexual creature to be cast aside when she has served her purpose and can no longer appeal to the passions. Motherhood becomes a mere physical function robbed of all higher spiritual sanctity. To what an abyss of human misery the mother must sink according to the ideas of these apostles of progress.

Dear Mothers, the determination to cherish your true dignity must be engraved deeply in your hearts. You must not allow that garland to be torn from your head, for it was woven by our holy religion and placed with the garland of myrtle invisible in your hearts before the altar on your wedding-day. The destructive tendencies of the times must find in you an impassable wall, they must not penetrate your hearts, nor find any entrance into your families.

With the unshakeable courage of Faith you must ward off from your children all modern destructive tendencies. Therefore you should impress deeply on your daughters the necessity of preserving their virginity inviolate and holy also in those years of their youth when the passions are stirred, because they should see themselves as the future mothers. Anything which might in the eyes of the daughters tarnish the ideal image of the mother- that is, your image, if your daughters could have seen it in your youth-must be opposed by them also with an iron will and firm resolution. Further, let this esteem for the dignity of the mother sink deep into the hearts of your sons above all, especially when they are growing up and nearing the years of storm and stress. They should learn to see in every young girl a future mother. Nay, they should be able to look upon every girl as they would look upon their own mothers, and to show every young girl of their acquaintance the same esteem they would wish others to have shown to their own mothers.

But your chief endeavour must be to let your sons and daughters really see in you the ideal Mother. The high dignity with which our holy religion has clothed you bears with it a strict duty to live in accordance with this dignity. The consciousness of your holy dignity should be reflected in all your actions. Would that your children could bear the same praiseworthy testimony of you which the well-known journeyman, Kolping, gave of his mother:”It is true my mother was poor, but she was a mother of whom I have never seen nor heard anything I could not respect. Whenever the tempter came near me, I had but to think of my mother and- the tempter fled.” The memory of a truly good mother will in later years be the guardian angel of the child.

Do not forget, then, mothers, that you have a glorious ancestry. Many mothers have been numbered among the saints of our Church. These are the best among your predecessors; these knew that motherhood is a gift from the All Holy; they valued the honour conferred on them of helping in the Divine creation. The significance of their motherhood, reaching out beyond time and this world, was continually before their minds. If your noble dignity is also expressed in your Christian life, then you too will one day be among those saints and the dignity of your motherhood also in Divine transfiguration will be radiant for all eternity.

MOTHER OF THE POPE

In a little country village there lived a good, God-fearing family. The good God had sent the humble pair ten children, the eldest of whom died a few days after birth. Their means were extremely modest and it was only through constant endeavour that the parents managed to procure the needs of their little ones. When the second eldest attained to an age at which his parents began to look to him as a helper in providing for the family, he came to them to tell them he wished to become a priest. A sympathetic friend offered to help the clever boy with his studies free of cost. Scarcely had the boy grown up when his father died, and now the care of the numerous family rested on the frail shoulders of the mother. Relatives and other friends advised her to take her son from school to earn and help to lighten her heavy cares for the other children. But the pious mother always made the same answer to their advice: “If it be God’s will that my son should become a priest, I must not stand in his way, however hard I may find the struggle to make a living.”

The son became a priest. Twenty years later he was consecrated bishop. His mother continued to live in the simple, quiet cottage in the country. A day came when the bishop went to visit his mother and, showing her his ring, said with childlike simplicity; “Look, Mother! Look at the fine ring you have won for me!” But the mother said with homely simplicity, pointing to her marriage ring: “My son, you would not have that ring on your finger if I had not this one. This ring, blessed by the hand of the priest before the altar of God, was placed on my finger by your father. It has ever been a reminder of my duties, but above all when I felt discouraged and would have lost heart.”

The son became Cardinal; the son became Pope to whom the Catholic world is indebted for numerous manifold blessings to all mankind. Meanwhile the little mother had gone to her eternal rest. Ever since her departure a cheap watch might be seen lying on the desk of her son, the Pope; and when a wealthy nobleman offered to replace the humble little timepiece by a gold watch, the Pope replied: “This watch is worth more than its weight in gold or jewels; it is the watch my mother gave me on the day of my first Holy Communion.” So deeply was the memory of his good, pious mother rooted in the heart of the Pope.

This Pope -Pope Pius X-who came from the working class and rose to the highest ecclesiastical dignity, will soon, we hope, be ranked among the canonised saints of the Church. And when this Pope entered into eternal happiness through the gates of Paradise, we may be sure he was met there by his little mother, now among the transfigured in Heaven, and that she would again point to the ring on her finger and say: “My child, you would not have become Pope, nor saint, had I not worn this ring on my finger, if this ring had not constantly reminded me of my duties towards you.”

Should not the ring on your finger also be a strict, yet loving remainder of your duties as a wife and mother? Should it not tell you that with this holy ring a blessing has been imparted to you personally, a blessing to which you must correspond by a holy life? Is not the little ring a symbol full of meaning and a reminder that you have been joined, body and soul, your life long, to your husband? And surely you would wish also, in later years to show your little ring to your children and say: “My children, you would not have become what you are today, if I had not worn this little ring on my finger.” The ring on your finger should indeed be a reminder of your high dignity but it should also exhort you to be true to your holy charge.

A well-known proverb says that the greater the honour we receive, the greater is the obligation we are under. Whoever accepts the honour must also bear the responsibility. You, Christian mother, have the richest and most beautiful natural calling, but you also have the most difficult and responsible task.

You should build your heavenly kingdom in your calling, in your family, in your house. If you do not find happiness there you will never find it. Your duties as wife and mother are your first and holiest duties. It is altogether impossible to be a bad wife and mother and at the same time consider yourself a good Christian. In carrying out your duties as wife and mother, you must live a Christian life; and the constant reminder and admonisher of your Christian duties and tasks as a mother is the ring on your hand.

The fact that this little gold ring was blessed at the altar of God and placed on your finger in that holy place should always remind you that great and difficult religious tasks lie before you. If you want to be a true mother, if you want to be a Christian mother having a just regard for her holy responsibility, then your whole nature must be permeated by religion. If you eliminate the religious motif from motherliness, then motherhood will be no more than a sheer natural event as it is in the case of other living creatures and the most glorious crown will fall from your head, and you will then think nothing of neglecting your duties as wife and mother. You will see in your calling, in your duties as wife and mother, not a holy responsibility, but an oppressive burden which you will endeavour to shake off at every opportunity. It is because religion has died in the hearts of so many mothers that we must feel the deepest pity for their neglect of their duties.

As a mother you must constantly strive to cultivate a deep religious spirit in your heart. In your whole exterior there should be the holy pride of a child of God who in face of the enemies a religion is fully conscious of her inner worth. Your person, speech and conduct, your prayer and work must be the true reflection of your great soul. In this way you will furthermore build up within you a wall of defence against certain failings likely to appear in the character of a proud woman arising from her superficial nature and excessive desire to please.

Oh! Christian mother, let, your work and leisure be used to cultivate your soul. Use all the forces of our holy religion continually, that they may ennoble and sanctify you more and more. Thus daily prayer must become second nature to you, the reception of the sacraments a heartfelt necessity. As a holy Christian, person of true nobility, you must take your place-in the centre of your family, esteemed by your husband, loved and honoured by your children.

This is the first thing the little ring on your hand tells you. It was blessed and laid on your finger that you may sanctify your own person more and more for the noble tasks given you through your calling as wife and mother. When you have become firm in your religion and continue to uproot the faults of your character then you can confidently undertake your obligations as wife and mother; for you can then feel sure that you will be able to bear, to the satisfaction of your God, the holy burden which you took up when you chose your calling,

THE GUARDIAN ANGEL OF THE HUSBAND

Look once again at the ring on your hand and hear what it has to say to you further: it is the sign that you are bound your whole life long to one who is dear to you, to the husband of your choice.

You have been placed by his side, united and bound to him who is the head of the family. Do not look upon yourself as being there to play the tyrant and order him about, to vent your humours on him and treat him as your servant to be ever at your beck and call; but as his companion showing understanding for his work and cares, for his hopes and plans for the future. It was for this that the Creator of Nature placed such strong love in the female disposition, so that the husband in his turn may find in his wife a noble, loving support, a guardian angel, loyal and thoughtful.

You shall walk with your husband as a loving companion, a protecting guardian angel along the thorny way to Heaven. Later on you may not knock at the gate of Heaven without your husband; for your husband must not, through your fault or carelessness, miss the road to his eternal home. To keep him on the right road during all the time of your life together is your noblest task as guardian angel of your husband. Therefore, see that you carry out conscientiously your duties in regard to the soul of your husband. For you have solemnly pledged yourself before the altar of God to do this. Michelangelo in his famous painting in the Sistine Chapel in Rome shows a frail little wife guiding a strong, heavy man along on the way to Heaven. A profound truth is here expressed. A mysterious power over the soul of her husband lies in the soul of the wife so that he is entirely under her influence and willingly permits that he should be guided by her for good-but also for evil. Then see to it that you use your power for the best in your husband.

Above all be a saving angel to your husband when perhaps he is influenced by the spirit of the times, or anxious for the advancement of his family, he would even desecrate the garden of your marriage. Christian wife and mother, ward off this plague of our time from the holy precincts of your married life. Use all the force of your womanly heart to maintain discipline and chastity.

In this be a true angel on guard, nay, an angel with flaming sword keeping watch over the paradise of your marriage chamber, so that this evil influence of the time may find no entrance. If your marriage remains holy, then genuine love will prevail; but if the marriage be desecrated, then love will die; and when love has fled, true happiness will have fled also. This is the curse of the desecration of marriage.

Endeavour therefore to transfigure your surrendering, conjugal love, your physical-spiritual union with your husband by the light of your holy faith. . . . Remember that it is God’s decree that you should surrender yourself, that the decrees of God are holy, and hence should be kept holy by you, and that the Divine laws of life cannot be violated with impunity. Above all remember that through the sacrament of marriage (which like all the other sacraments has its noblest source of holiness and efficacy of grace in the infinitely bitter passion and death of the Saviour), the Blood of Christ also washes the conjugal act in which according to Our Saviour’s own words, you become one flesh with your husband. And surely it is a frightful sacrilege to trample upon the Blood of Christ through the desecration of marriage. But what esteem a husband with religious disposition will have for you when you make known to him your idea of conjugal life! Should you not be able to win him over to this view also? Then when your souls are united in love; surely your husband cannot ask anything of you which your conscience will not permit!

Christian wife and mother, that day on which the Lord God will demand from you an account of the soul of your husband, you may not take the refuge sought by Cain and reply: “Am I my husband’s keeper?” You areyour husband’s keeper, and if his soul should be lost, a severe judgment will await you.

You will notice further that without religion you cannot fulfil this duty, without religion your courage will fail and, making all kinds of weakly complaints about the inconvenience and suffering caused by another child, you become the temptress of your husband and bring down grievous guilt upon your soul. Without religion you cannot be the loyal, submissive and loving guide of your husband.

CHILDREN THE BLESSING OF MARRIAGE

The little ring blessed by the Church is further the sign that you are consecrated not only as a Christian and wife, but also, and above all, as a mother. The holiest burden of our mother’s is the child. Until recent days people always called children the blessing of marriage. Unfortunately this idea of the child being a blessing has disappeared, it is being regarded more and more as a boring disturber of the comfort and peace of life, a burden to be avoided if possible. Contrary to the law and commandment of God, they snatch at the pleasure of the parental act of creation while not wanting its natural fruit-the child, even deliberately eliminating him. They go yet further, for in the street, at meetings, in the pages of the newspapers and periodicals of the most varied kinds, the idea is proclaimed loudly that the expectant mother is entirely master of her own body and hence may dispose of her child when and how she wishes! And those wives who adopt a child so that he may obtain a little place in the sun and thus generously take upon themselves the troubles and cares of a larger family-these are despised as stupid and behind the times.

Today, no less than formerly, the great commandment holds good in regard to the mother: “Thou shalt not kill!” The child within the mother’s womb possesses a human life which may not be wilfully destroyed. It is just the little one in its first cradle beneath the mother’s heart who should in a very special way be a sacred burden of the mother’s love which in the light of Faith she should bear with joy and courageous sacrifice.

The most difficult and far-reaching tasks of the mother are connected with her child. According to the decree of the Creator the care and education of the child is placed first in the hands of the mother. The tiny infant requires careful attention and needs nourishment from the mother’s breast which the mother is in duty bound to offer to the child unless she is dispensed for important reasons. The young soul develops in the warm atmosphere of maternal love. In the formation of the child’s soul the mistakes of the mother can never be fully rectified by the father or the school, and what has been neglected by the mother can never be made good by the teacher.

A man of great distinction once made the following remark: “Whenever I meet a person of outstanding merit I always ask who was his mother. It happens almost always that great sons or daughters have an excellent mother, and I have seldom been mistaken in forming a opinion of the children when I see their mother.” And again and again life has proved to be true the words of the great Bishop von Ketteler: “The greatest and most natural gift of God is the gift of a good mother.”

In a penitentiary for women, a convict decided after long inner struggles to make a confession of her sins once more. She begins with the words: “Your Reverence, do not be severe with me for I have had no mother.” That is to say, she had had a mother, but one whom she would no longer call by that name for she had not been a good mother and through neglecting her duty towards her child, she had driven her on to the road to crime. Nor can one be hard on such a poor creature who had been deprived of the greatest natural good.

EARLY RELIGIOUS TRAINING

The high place which the mother holds among Christians is due to the religious wisdom which she is able in such an exemplary manner to instil into the child’s soul according to his ability. A good religious training will ever be the most precious jewel a mother can give her child setting out on the road of life. But it must be implanted in the child in his earliest youth. Together with the loving words “Father” and “Mother,” the most holy names of Jesus and Mary must be the first to cross the lips of the child. From his earliest years the child must be taught to pray; he must also be taught to fight against the faults of childhood like quarrelsomeness, greed, and a hatred of all that could lead to impurity must be implanted in him. If the Christian mother lend an ear to some of the new views regarding these matters, and give free scope to the nature of her child, she would be consciously working for his temporal and eternal destruction.

Do not believe that your task ends with their childhood. You will have a twofold responsibility when your sons and daughters are growing up. Then above all you must be their guardian, taking under protection their innocence and virtue. In bygone days our wives and mothers were the faithful guardians of pure, chaste customs. They were also able to ward off those dangers which might threaten their families outside the home. But today it almost seems as if they had forgotten this duty. Immorality could never spread so effectually through the pages of newspapers and periodicals, through pamphlet and poster, if our wives and mothers had always been at their post in the interest of their children. It is the duty of wives to preserve the public life from such filth in order that the young may not suffer.

GUARDIAN AND COUNSELLOR

When the time comes in which your son is approaching manhood, or your daughter is blossoming into womanhood, then above all you should be a faithful guardian, able to read in the eyes of your child the question he fears to ask. If you have up to now won the confidence of your children, so that they can speak openly to you in all their doubts and fears and receive from you a definite, unevasive reply, believe me, you are the true guardian of the souls of your children; your counsel and your every word will be to them the light which will guide them safely in the days of darkness and storm.

But long after your children have gone out into the world and perhaps started a home of their own, you must continue to be their counsellor. There should of course be no question of acting as their guardian in all matters, nor to interfere in their personal affairs but they should always feel that they can come to their mother in all that concerns them.

You are bound to your children as long as God leaves you here on earth. You are reminded of this tie by the little ring on your finger. The gold circlet indicates the threefold bond which joins you indissolubly to your God, to your husband and to your children while on earth. Do not endeavour to loose this bond; rather strive to bind to yourself more closely, more securely, this threefold sacred duty together with the threefold bond.

Pope Pius IX once said: “Give me truly Christian mothers and I shall save the sinking world.” Words profound and true. Great mothers leave the imprint of their souls on their country and on their time. Whether a nation lives or perishes depends on its women.

The sad moral decadence of recent times would never have crept in if our Christian wives and mothers had stayed at their post. Many have failed to recognise their noble task. They have not been mindful of the sacred burden which God laid upon their shoulders.

Therefore, mother, give thought once more to the noble, sacred office which has been given you. I have briefly indicated wherein your task lies. Come, set about your noble duty. It is God’s will. The healthy state of our modern humanity must proceed from the family. Above all it must be effected by our Christian mothers who must themselves first be penetrated by a true religious spirit which will then be reflected in their relations with their husbands and children. The more the life led by the mother is Christian, pious and resigned to God’s will, the more lasting will be its effect upon the religious and moral life of the family.

Then, Christian mother, when your task has ended, in your last hour you can stretch out the little ring on your finger and joyously say to the Lord God: “My Lord, I have lived a truly Christian wife, a loving, loyal spouse and a dutiful mother of my children, because with this ring Thou hast blessed me and my life’s task.”

MOTHERHOOD IS NOT THE CURSE OF THE WOMAN

Not seldom it happens that we meet wives and mothers who are angry because their Creator has not sent them into the world as men instead of mere women, as they express it. In the man they see the great strength and with it the power to rule the world and with mighty fist to master life, while the woman, as they believe, is only called to serve, or at most to be able to share in the progress made by the man. They would like to leave the hidden life of the home, to enter public life and have a hand in the fate of their country. Nay, we even hear of many women cursing motherhood, saying: “Motherhood makes the woman incapable of competing with man, and therefore motherhood is a curse on the woman.”

Women should certainly share in public life, especially in regard to matters concerning their own sex and children -in these matters they are in every way more competent than men,-but on this account to become a stranger in the home would be to reverse the natural order. In nature we also hear the voice of God speaking to us in the power and capability He has placed in it. But all the gifts and advantages the female sex possesses point to the domestic circle. Hence it is not a matter of choice-giving the wife the home as the circle of her special activities; God has destined her for this. When every good woman’s aim and longing are for motherhood, the Voice of God is speaking in this urge. But God has done all things well; therefore motherhood cannot be a curse on the woman. Rather, motherhood, willed by God, must be her greatest blessing.

Hence those wives are to be pitied who have become so depraved as to want all wives to desert the domestic hearth. They are indeed short-sighted in supposing they can make a ruler of one who serves. Dazzled by the brilliance and esteem attaching to certain masculine callings, they do not see the glorious crown that rests on the head of every wife and mother who, conscious of her high dignity, seeing her sacred task in the light of Faith, follows with heart and head the calling which God has willed for her. That which at the first glance seems to be nothing more than servile work by which the wife and mother sacrifices herself to the little family circle, makes for her the royal crown she wears in the little kingdom of her house, it secures to her the crown of honour in the delight and enthusiasm of her husband and the loving gratitude of her children even after she has passed away from this life. And one day it will merit for her the crown of victory in the Kingdom of Heaven.

It is a great mistake to believe that great or sublime actions are proclaimed by loud acclamation. Nor is all that appears amid outward splendour for this reason of lasting worth. Not all those who play their part on the great stage of public life, who make marvellous speeches before huge audiences in parliament or assembly halls, not all such men have any effect on the fate of man. And if they should, for some time, influence the nation and the multitude to a great extent, only too often their fame and consequent importance are no more than the flash of a comet, a meteor appearing for a brief moment, holding the attention of the people, eagerly discussed everywhere, but soon disappearing as quickly as it came and sinking into oblivion. The one who believes that only events and facts which draw the attention of people and are discussed everywhere are the true and only forces which affect the fate of man and humanity, that only these leave their stamp on time and the nation-such a man only shows that he is unable to penetrate deeply into human life and its developments.

Great and sublime things are often achieved in quiet, not in the streets or thronged market places and assembly halls. Even the great event of the Incarnation was accomplished amid the silence of midnight, and the Son of God lived in the home of a poor family for thirty years. And when He had to go forth into public life, He did not travel round the world, making obeisance to emperors and kings, which He could easily have done. Rather He confined His activities to a country that was scarcely noticed by the great world. Yet it was here that the renewal of the world had its beginning. This humble little country became the Holy Land from which the blessings of Christianity were to flow to all other lands.

It may be said of the mother that she too lives in a little, un known, but “holy land.” She too lives in a home which is little noticed by the great world, which is almost lost in the great whole. But the seed which she sows shall also bear fruit in the time that will come. Only God Himself knows how high this tree will send its branches heavenwards and how many generations in the course of time shall dwell beneath its shade.

Now this little country, your family, is your kingdom, your world. But the husband bears the sceptre. As incontestable as is the truth that Christ is the Head of the Church and governs the Church, is also the Divine decree that the husband is the head of the house and therefore he shall bear the sceptre. However true it is that many wives dislike to hear of the subjection of the woman and hence believe that there should be complete equality with the husband, yet it is true and must always be true that the decisive authority in the family rests with the husband in accordance with the commandments of God.

But this subjection of the wife to the husband should not deprive her in the least degree of her inner freedom or her personality. Hence, in no sense should the wife become a servant or a slave.

Nay, the wife and mother who is truly Christian knows that there is a government of the home which is different from the legitimate government which bears the official stamp. This is the magic power of a noble, loving, generous heart which, by submission and kindness, disarms all resistance without seeming to, and by a loving word can lead far any husband of noble character. The wife and mother who possesses a selfless love and “has a way with her,” will govern the whole family with irresistible power. Truly Christian wives always rule in the home but in their own way. Without any feeling of envy they yield the spectre to the husband while they wear the crown-queens in the little kingdom of the family.

The sceptre is a staff, the symbol of leadership and protection; it is symbolic of the strict, authoritative government which has its support in command. “The crown is a garland, an adornment, the symbol of the dignity and the consecration which subjects men by winning their hearts.” (Wibbelt). By winning the hearts of all her family the wife rules. He who has conquered the heart of man possesses the whole man. Hence, Christian wife and mother, if you have won the hearts of your family, you reign as queen in your domestic circle.

Therefore, the wife and mother, by her gentle womanly rule helps the Lord God to rule the world. She helps Him who has entrusted to her as His vicar the care of the little bit of the world which is her family. In her little kingdom let her wear the crown in accordance with God’s will. While the husband embodies the power and authority of God, the mother represents the goodness and love of God in the sphere of the family. Therefore let her leave the sceptre to her husband while she herself wears the crown in womanly silence and gentleness. “Before the sceptre we bow down in fear, before the crown we incline reverently.”-Wibbelt.

But the office you hold as queen of the family circle is not only a question of great honour. It brings with it very great responsibilities. It demands above all a willing, joyous heart-a heart which can really make of the family its world. All your thought, cares and troubles must be for your home. In the domestic circle you should feel happy and consider yourself fortunate in being allowed to care for others with pleasure and love-not like a serving maid who would consider, “what have I to get out of this work, or that? When can I have a day off again and get away from this work for my family, a change from all this?” A change often enough of the most doubtful kind. The faithful housewife becomes a gad-about. Those wives and mothers who for ever complain that they get nothing out of life because they are busy with their numerous family cares, and therefore look for “a bit of life” outside the home, belong to the superficial, volatile women who take no heed of the royal crown which every wife and mother wears; and when therefore they are unhappy and envy others their carefree life, it means they have not yet understood the real nature of a wife and mother. A simple, pious woman once wrote the following words underneath a picture she was giving to her daughter who was about to be married: “To be a mother means to be happy even amid cares.” To be a mother means wearing a royal crown and by her fidelity to her duties and by motherly love to govern the little kingdom of the family.”

Therefore wear your royal crown proudly, aware of your responsibility in the little kingdom of your home, and you will find that all will readily submit to the gentle rule of your motherly heart.

When, proudly conscious of being a royal child, a child of God, you have worn the crown in your home, been a loving wife and a truly solicitous mother, then a laurel wreath, ever green, will be wound about your heart, the garland of a peaceful conscience, knowing you have faithfully fulfilled your duties, the garland of contentment in your heart.

Yet another crown is being woven for you, a crown more beautiful, more glorious than anything the world can offer a mother, one for which many a worldly queen would like to exchange her crown of gold. This is the crown of the high esteem and love of a husband who has found his true happiness in the sunshine of your love. It is furthermore the crown of the gratitude and respect of your children. This crown will be secure upon your head when age has begun to spin its silver threads in your hair. The older your children become the better they will be able to appreciate what they have in their mother, the warmer will be their gratitude and attachment to a good mother. Their mother will simply be their dearest and most precious possession in the world. They will remember with joy every word with which their God-fearing mother has put wisdom in their hearts. And when, after years during which perhaps life has gone hard with them, they gaze with grateful hearts at their mother’s picture, their remembrance of her who gave them life will make them continue to feel her gentle sway over their dispositions. The mother’s rule over her children only ends at their death.

But when the beloved mother lies on her death-bed, her death will be the last impressive sermon; her children will be filled with wonder, amid the bitter pain of parting, at all the love, patience, sacrifice, faith and trust in God shown by their mother now leaving them. The edifying death of a mother is in itself an exhortation to her children which they will not forget their whole life long. A life of sacrifice can only be followed by a beautiful resigned death.

All the time you were a mother an everlasting garland was woven which lay invisible on your head and will later adorn also that mound which will cover you, the mother of your children. The ever fresh green on the mother’s grave is a sign that the remembrance of their dear mother will always live in the hearts of her children. The grave of the mother is a holy spot beside which many tears will be shed and much consolation found; here too many a prayer of gratitude will be offered; many a petition will go up for the peace of the soul of the one who rests here. This grateful remembrance is of all natural things the most beautiful reward, the most desirable crown, the best everlasting garland- one which will never fade with the years that pass, and which will always adorn you as long as your memory remains stamped on the hearts of your children. Here on earth it will never wither, and one day in eternity it will adorn your brow for ever.

YOUR CHILDREN ARE THE JEWELS IN YOUR HEAVENLY CROWN The most beautiful crown of all awaits you in Eternity. You will be especially happy there as the mother of your children. Does not St. Paul tell us: “The mother will be blessed through her children.” What a glorious crown will be prepared for you when you find in Heaven your reward for all your cares and trouble-your children, now among the host of saints, with you, their mother. “Your children will be the stars of your Heaven and the jewels in your crown.” They will then be the reward of your work and prayer, your sacrifices and your struggles. In your children you will have fulfilled the task the Lord has given you. You, who went forth from God poor, will have returned to Him rich. As a reward for your willing, joyous and humble sacrifice through your maternal love, a glorious crown of victory has been prepared for you in the transfigured garland of your children which will be your bright adornment for all Eternity.

Furthermore, the Lord will fulfil in you what He has promised in the Old Testament: “I shall be your reward in full measure.” The Saviour who Himself had a dear Mother, and whose life on earth was transfigured by the sunshine of the noblest maternal love, took into His Sacred Heart with His own Mother all human mothers. Even as He crowned His Mother Queen of Heaven and Earth, making her Mother of all who are saved, He will also crown you queen of all the generations who have sprung from you. Further, He will Himself be your most beautiful, most precious Crown, your Crown of victory, your Glory. Throughout Eternity this Crown will last, and the hymns of thanksgiving will be sent up before the throne of God by your descendants who will honour you unceasingly as their ancestress.

For some years Sweden has celebrated a Mothers’ Feastday. One day in the year is devoted entirely to the mother of the family. On this day the mother is the centre of all attention, love and honour. Flags are flying on all the houses; in every family a holiday atmosphere reigns. The mother is not allowed to move a finger. She is waited on; She is recipient of gifts and endless testimonies of love. Her children vie with one another in demonstrations of affection. On this one day of the year she is publicly honoured as queen of the home. The Mothers’ Day might be called a day of homage paid to the silent, self-sacrificing majesty of the mother.

This Mothers’ Day is undoubtedly a beautiful and significant gesture on the part of this Nordic people, a gesture which has been repeated in our own country in the annual “Mothers’ Sunday.” On this day the Queen of the Home is as it were raised to her throne. The children, big and little, all help in weaving a green garland, a symbol of their gratitude, for their mother. When this demonstration of love by the children comes from sincerely grateful hearts, every mother must surely be filled with just pride and true happiness.

THE REAL “MOTHERS’ DAY” AWAITS YOU IN ETERNITY

The time will come when you also will celebrate your “Mothers’ Day,” when for you also a feast will be prepared-on the Sunday which will be eternal, followed by no work day, because the time for work and worry will have ceased for ever. See that when the Day comes you will have merited this homage. Wear your royal Crown in the circle of your family now, conscious of your great responsibility. With the profound dignity symbolised by this Crown, take up your holy burden courageously. Pray, strive, work, love and sacrifice yourself in patience, so that your husband and your children will have good reason to weave a garland of gratitude and love for you also. Then, on that true Mothers’ Sunday, the King of all Eternity will raise you also to a throne and adorn you, like His own Mother, with the eternal Crown of Victory and Glory that will never end.

Nihil Obstat:

Carolus Doyle, S.J.

Censor Theol. Deput.

Imprimi potest:

@ Joannes Carolus

Archiep. Dublinen., Hiberniae Primas. DUBLINI: die 12 Augustii, 1947. ********

THE time of Christmas and Epiphany is one of unmixed happiness. It is one of the few seasons of the Church year which have that purely blissful note. The sorrowful sequel to the events of this time is still far ahead; we are able to put the thought of it out of our mind and to immerse ourselves in the sheer joy of this period. It is a grace, I think, to be able to feel that joy, because it is an indication that, whatever our defects may be, we are attuned to the Church and its life.

The Divine Coming

FRANK DUFF

INDEX

The very thought of the coming of Our Lord should have the effect of stirring us to our depths. Of all events it is really the central one-that divine coming among us promised from the very beginning. How many years before was it that those words were uttered which promised the Redeemer: “I will set enmities between Thee and the Woman!” What hopes rested on that prophecy!

Those words spoken by Almighty God to the Serpent resounded down the ages and through all peoples. As the races dispersed over the world, they brought with them that promise. North, east, south or west, it went with them, and it became the heart of their religious systems. Every pagan mythology had that idea of a Redeemer who was to be born of a Virgin. In most of them it became much disfigured with the passage of time, but still we are able to trace the outline of it clearly enough.

But the theme was distinct, and remained so, in the Jewish books. In fact, as time went on and each new prophet arose, it was given greater clarity. “A Virgin shall conceive and bring forth a Son and they shall call his name Emmanuel, that is, “God with us.”” Then in the Book of Daniel the very time of the Birth is foretold in terms which are obscure to us but precise to the experts. And the place in which the paramount event is to take place is foretold by the Prophet Micheas in these words: “And thou, Bethlehem, art not the least among the princes of Juda; for out of thee shall come forth the captain that shall rule my people Israel.”

And now at the time that we are commemorating the long-foretold event is about to take place. We would expect that around such a portentous happening there would be a setting that could be regarded as appropriate, something impressive. Should not that Woman and her Child of intertwined destiny appear in the heavens, clad in light, an astounding, even terrifying spectacle, overpowering the emotions of men? But as we are aware, things worked out in very different fashion. The reality strikes the opposite pole. It is not tremendous, but painfully simple; not divine-looking but abjectly human; not royal or rich, but poor-penniless. No palace, not even a habitation. Truly God’s ways are not our ways.

BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS AND MEMORIES

It is not about the doctrine of this wonderful Nativity that I am going to talk, but about its picturesque side, the one that stirs us, that rejoices us at this time of beautiful thoughts and memories.

I am going to pick some little of the symbolism, the legend, the literature, and perhaps even the fable, which love has woven around that eternal event. We must not decry those things just because they do not appear in the inspired narrative. Sometimes one hears people speaking lightly about that picturesque side. What is in the New Testament is very brief, a skeleton. We have to clothe that skeleton with flesh. Bear in mind that on that skeleton there really was a tissue. We do but piously try to restore it. The Nativity had its retinue of facts and circumstances, just as every item of history is so surrounded. But more than any other, this one was linked to men’s lives. It determined the fate of all generations. Everything about it had a profound meaning. Everything down to the smallest detail had the purpose of fulfilling some prophecy, teaching some lesson, or making some eloquent pointing to the future. Recall the Scripture which tells us that not a sparrow falls without the Father’s will; nor is there a hair of your head that is not numbered. That is the manner in which God descends into detail. The detail is infinite. We see too little of it and not too much. Especially this is the case in regard to anything which bore on the Messiah. Everything in the Old Law was symbolic of Him and of the Woman who was to bear Him. We see but a fraction, and it will be one of the sweet occupations of heaven to see all.

Every flower and stone and living thing, the water and the air, all are for Him and tell of Him and somehow reflect Him. It is not rash but a reasonable process to try to fill in what is not told, to endeavour to glimpse the divine pattern.

Christmas is drawing nigh. The days of the expectation of the Child have arrived. Our Lady’s preparations are advanced. Her sewing is done. The hearts of St. Joseph and herself are full of rapture. The long-awaited One, the Hope of Nations, the Salvation of the World, He that is Wonderful, the Counsellor, God the Mighty, Father of the World to come, the Prince of Peace (all these are epithets from the Prophet Isaias, among others), is shortly to appear to eyes.

THE ROAD TO BETHLEHEM

But at this point something asserts itself, something which appears to be purely human but which was foreseen by the prophets seven hundred years before. The merciless power of Rome steps in and takes a hand in the game. The Emperor Augustus decreed a census of his Empire. Of that dominion, the Holy Land had become part; because the sceptre, that is sovereignty, had departed from Judea. This was one of the signs specified by the prophets of the coming of the time of Our Lord: that Judea would have ceased to be independent.

The imperial decree proclaimed that all must register without exception and that each one should do so in the city of his tribe. Mary and Joseph were of the tribe of David. The central city of the tribe was that place, the name of which is now so wonderful, Bethlehem. And so to Bethlehem they prepared to go.

The distance to Bethlehem is 86 miles. The road goes through Jerusalem, and Jerusalem is six miles from Bethlehem. It was winter time. Contrary to what we might imagine, winter there is cold and that cold could be severe. Probably there will be snow, and tradition clothes Bethlehem with snow on that great night. Here I remind you of the foretelling by Our Lord of the destruction of Jerusalem when He said: “Pray that your flight may not be in the winter time.” But He reserved that very fate for His most beloved, His Mother. He did not spare her. Her destiny was part of His; it came out of His just as His Body came out of hers.

That journey could have dangers as well as discomforts. The Bible is full of references to lions in Palestine. Leopards and bears and wolves lurked at that time in the caves and in the forests, particularly in the Valley of the Jordan. Night, of course, was their prowling time and the Holy Family would probably not then be abroad. In addition to the savage wild animals, there was a greater danger from the savage wild men, the brigands who then abounded.

While the Holy Family was not then unduly exposed to those kind of dangers, especially as there were crowds journeying by reason of the census, I point forward to the Flight into Egypt when they will have to face those perils in their grimmest form. Then they will be by themselves, moving by night, keeping away from the tracks that other travellers would follow. Because they will be flying from the pursuing power of Herod.

THE SEARCH FOR ROOM

It is reckoned that on the fourth or fifth day from Nazareth they would reach Jerusalem. Then they would of course hurry on to Bethlehem, which is the final short leg of the journey. They were days of immense fatigue, because Our Lady was not fit to travel. One old painting shows the scene. The little donkey bears that beloved woman. She is drooping. One arm is round St. Joseph’s neck as he walks beside her, supporting her. An angel is holding the bridle of the donkey and steering it on its way. The saddle is just a folded cloth. Contrary to the common custom of portraying him as older, St. Joseph would probably have been about thirty years old.

One old legend said Our Lord was born a little prematurely, so anxious was Our Lady to see His face. This might have a bearing upon the seeming catastrophe of the refusal of Bethlehem to accommodate the wayfarers. More than other women do, Mary knew when her Babe should be born. She would not have deliberately placed that event in Bethlehem at the moment of great crowding. So it could be that Our Lord arrived a little sooner than expected.

We can imagine the anguished search through Bethlehem for accommodation. The position at the moment was that every member of the House of David was concentrated on that comparatively small town. Though they did not realise it, they were the playthings of a divine manoeuvre in being thus brought together. They were fulfilling their significant part in redemption. They were being assembled to be present at the birth of their greatest Child. The crowding of course was extreme. Imagine, for instance, what Cork would be like if every Cork man and woman had to return there for a day! We can see, too, that the exodus from the countryside, which we are so much deploring today, was a feature then as it is now. As Solomon declared, there is nothing new under the sun.

Bethlehem was -and I think continues to be-a place of about three thousand persons. It consisted of an amphitheatre in a valley surrounded by hills, the town nestling into the bosom of those hills. It is an extraordinary thing that although Bethlehem had innumerable advantages of a type that we would call tactical or strategic for warfare, it possesses no title to fame other than the fact that it brought forth King David who was born there, and later, Him of Whom King David was the progenitor, the Prophet and the type, that is Our Lord. One thing which all travellers talk about and have talked about since that day has been the beauty of the women of Bethlehem. Some of the writers have not hesitated, probably with reason, to ascribe this to the blessing imparted to the place by her who was the most beautiful of them all.

There was no room for them in the inn at Bethlehem! Awful words, showing a shocking situation! “He came unto His own and His own received Him not.” First, they were seeking for ordinary accommodation, and in a little while they were seeking for any accommodation. Then they had to strike out further afield, and finally the celebrated stable was their sanctuary.

THE STABLE

Let us beware of thinking that this stable was a wooden structure of the crib type. It was a dugout or cave. It was a shelter for sheep or oxen in bad weather. In that least of places, which Papini in his well-known Life of Our Lord refers to as the dirtiest spot on earth, was born the Lord of the World. This series of frustrations and humiliations looks fantastic, but it is not quite as bad as we are inclined to think it. There is no question whatever, I would say, of Our Lady being just ruthlessly turned away from doors.

Living was a simpler matter in those days. The traveller brought along a rug or blanket; found a little spot between two other people in any shelter or under some sort of roof; squeezed in and slept. It is most certain that Our Lady could have been provided for in that manner. But in her case, privacy was necessary, and Bethlehem was like a tin of sardines that night.

But the amazing, the providential fact is that alone in all that land were the Holy Family unable to find a corner. Even on that night of over-crowding not one other person was relegated to that stable. However, they had in it the privacy that they needed, a privacy of the selectest character, reserved to themselves alone.

It was not the picturesque haven shown by the cribs, with fragrant straw and nice cradle-like manger. The reality was very different. It is described by St. Jerome as being little better than a hole in the ground, and he should know because he lived in it for thirty years when he was translating the Bible into Latin. The place was the refuge of animals. We can imagine the rest. It was piercingly cold that night and miserably dark. How did they give themselves a light? We must assume that St. Joseph had a lantern.

One author tells us something that we would not have thought out for ourselves but which must have been the case. It is that in that abode were swarms of vermin and that these would at once rush to welcome anything warm and offering nourishment. Thus the new-born Child was destined to shed His blood the moment He was born. Contemplate the distress of the mother, helpless to save Him from this terrible affliction! Thus did Mary bring forth her Son and by the instruction of Gabriel call His name “Jesus,” because He would save the people from their sins.

SYMBOLISM AND LEGEND

This happening is brimful of symbolism. As we have said, we cannot see too much symbolism in it. In fact we are only just scraping at the surface of it. The very name of Bethlehem is full of symbolism. It means “the House of Bread,” and its older name was “Ephrata,” which means “ the House of Flesh.” Here are two overwhelming prophetic pointings. Truly was Our Lord the House of Flesh in which the Divinity dwelt. Likewise you will recall that quotation in the Hand-book which points to the fact that Our Lord was laid in a manger because He was destined to be the Food of the world, and on straw which typified that He was the Divine Wheat later to be made into the Eucharistic Bread.

Present with the supreme personages in the cave were members of the animal order. They were there in a representative capacity. They were the faithful ass and an ox which was sheltering there. The ass was a biblical symbol of the Israelites, the chosen people, and the ox was a biblical symbol of the Gentiles. Here you have again this meaningful pointing to the mission of Our Lord to the chosen people and then to the whole wide world.

The legends go on to say that the cave was the ruin, or part of the ruins of an old palace of King David himself, who had been born there. Imagine if this should be true: that the excluding of Jesus from Bethlehem itself should bring about His being born in the palace of King David whose great Successor He would be.

Yet what meets the eye is degradation and rejection. Not only that, but one really could say, having regard to the defects of that habitation, that it was not a habitation at all; that He was born publicly.

Then the thought jumps to mind that He was likewise destined to die publicly. At that moment He will be even mor e deprived. Instead of the straw-filled manger, He will lie on the bare wood of the Cross. Instead of the rocky roof, He will only have the canopy of heaven. Instead of His Mother’s soft fingers, the cruel nails will hold Him. As He was born publicly and rejected, He would die in the same way.

SHEPHERDS WORSHIP THE LAMB

But on neither occasion would He be absolutely rejected. There would be a faithful few around the Cross, as there were around the manger. Scripture in its beautiful accents says to us: “ There were in the same country (actually it refers to the poor place called Beit-Sahur some little distance off) shepherds watching and keeping the night-watches over their flock. And behold an angel of the Lord stood by them, and the brightness of God shone round about them, and they feared with a great fear. And the angel said to them: Fear not; for behold I bring you good tidings of great joy, that shall be to all people. For this day is born to you a Saviour, who is Christ the Lord, in the city of David. And this shall be a sign unto you. You shall find the Infant wrapped in swaddling clothes and laid in a manger. And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly army, praising God and saying: Glory to God in the highest. and on earth peace to men of goodwill. (St. Luke ii. 8–14.)

Tradition says that there were three shepherds. I wonder what proportion of the cribs give effect to that tradition? The shepherds hastened and found Mary and Joseph and the Infant lying in the manger, and they paid homage. This was of an importance that they did not remotely glimpse. Unconsciously they were the representatives of the chosen people: and very appropriately shepherds-for the Jews had been a pastoral race throughout their earliest history. Again the note of significant imagery is struck. Is it not shepherds who fittingly should be the first to honour the Lamb of God? The breathtaking detail of the whole thing!

And there is more. We are told that the Lord came to those who were least. Into that category entered the shepherds of Judea. These were a despised and rejected caste. The Courts of Justice were forbidden to receive their testimony and they were placed almost on the same level as the heathen. Yet, out of all mankind, it is to those that the Babe stretches out His arms first, and it is they of all mankind who yield the first tribute of homage to Him who has been the expectation of all nations. This is a fortifying thought to us Legionaries whose attention turns so instinctively towards the lesser elements in the population.

Still afar at that moment. but journeying ever nearer and nearer led by their star, were the Magi, the representatives of the Gentile races. They too were coming to salute the new-born King, second in time to the chosen people, but discharging their role better, more worthily, nobly, and meriting for the Gentiles the higher destiny which would descend upon them later.

HIS MOTHER

Jesus in His birth did his young Mother no hurt, no harm. In most other ways He implicated her in His own desperate fate. It was not His plan to spare her in any way, as was evident from the subsequent course of her life. His life was a privilege and in that privilege she was to share most fully.

But on this occasion He did spare her for some reason deeply connected with His plan, and when those eager shepherds came they found a radiant young woman in no way exhausted, but blissfully happy in possession of her Treasure, which she offered for their inspection and adoration. But she did not speak to them, because she was at the height of the time of ritual uncleanness prescribed by the Old Law. She was unclean according to the Law and she must not speak.

May we not suppose that she gave the shepherds the first Benediction ever given before they departed praising and glorifying God! St. Francis of Sales says that Mary and Joseph did not hear the angelic chanting that the shepherds had heard, but were left to the operation of pure faith.

Why did the shepherds” story, when they went forth proclaiming those things, not cause a greater excitement than apparently was the case? People seem not to have bothered. The Holy Family was not besieged, and later they went to Jerusalem for the Presentation without any fuss or even interest. It was left to a couple of people who were animated from within by the Holy Spirit to notice the Child and to take an interest in Him. Herod did not then take any action. Some of the old accounts say that rumours did circulate and that investigators were sent to Bethlehem to see what they could pick up. Noting the simplicity of the persons and the commonness of the whole business, he went away in absolute contempt. And that, no doubt, would represent the general attitude. Also remember what I have said on the subject of the alleged unreliability of the shepherds. When they talked, probably people believed that it was not the Divine Spirit, but a very much more ordinary type of spirit which was moving them. We must also take count of the normal human incredulity. It is difficult to make mankind believe anything that is supernaturally marvellous. Witness our own coldness towards the Eucharist and the scoffing attitude of the remainder of the world.

Th e apocryphal Gospels place on St. Joseph’s lips a statement that at the birth, time itself stopped short for a moment: that everything in nature went into suspended animation; even the birds remained stationary in the air! That is one of the details which is more than an exaggeration and which we need not accept.

In the same line of thought is the captivating theme, dear to the poets, that on this unique day peace brooded over the world; no war-trumpet profaned the air; no sound was heard of clashing arms: no bloody streamlets stained the clay.

We are told pointedly by the Gospel that Mary kept all those things, pondering them in her heart. Why is this so significantly stated? Obviously in everything that was happening she was seeing, to a depth that we cannot probe, the realisation of every prophecy and every symbol, and the total fulfilment of the Old Law. In particular she was remembering for St. Luke, because she was the main human source of the happenings concerning the Annunciation, the Birth, and all those earlier details of Our Lord’s life that St. Luke sets down. It was from Mary, the Mother of God, that St. Luke learned all those things.

********

The Divinely Ordained Apostolate

BY VERY REV. ARTHUR RYAN, D.D., D.PH

INDEX

One afternoon about nineteen centuries ago, there was standing on the banks of the river Jordan a group of three men. As they talked together, the leader of the group seeing another figure walking to and fro some distance away, eyed Him fixedly, and pointing Him out, said to his two companions,―Behold the Lamb of God.‖ The two companions, amazed at this striking title, walked over to the stranger, who, hearing them coming, turned and, asked ―Whom seek ye‖? As the full glory of His countenance shone upon them, the two men, overpowered, could only utter in awed tones, “Master, where do you live?” And he said to them ―Come and see.‖

One of the two was Andrew, a poor fisherman of Galilee, born on the banks of the lake of Genesareth; the other was John, a son of Zebedee, a son of thunder, also a fisherman, though of a wealthier family than Andrew. And He whom they addressed as Master was Our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ.

The Gospel story does not tell us where He lived -it was probably in one of the huts so common on the banks of the river, or in one of the shelters formed by boughs of terebinth and palm. Nor are we told what holy intimacies passed between Him and the two, but merely that they stayed with Him all that day. Thus it was that Jesus won His first disciples.

In the months that followed, He gained many more as He fared along the hillsides and the valleys, the roads and the towns of Palestine, attracting some by the grace of His teaching and the glory of His works, expressly calling others, as on the day when by the lake near Capharnaum He saw a despised tax-collector sitting at his table in the toll-house, and said to him “Follow Me.”

Then one night, in the second year of His ministry, He was weary, and withdrew from the crowds to a mountain to pray. Tradition has it that it was the hill between Tiberias and Capharnaum, which Christians call the Mount of the Beatitudes and Arabs the Horns of Hattin. When day broke, He called around Him all His disciples, and solemnly picked out from their number twelve, whom He called Apostles.

At that time, nothing in particular distinguished these twelve in the eyes of men. They were then, as indeed they often showed themselves afterwards, poor, ignorant, unlettered, ambitious, more concerned with the things of earth than with the things of Heaven. Yet the simple act of choosing them out from the disciples was to change the fortunes of humanity and the history of the world. ‘Those twelve rough-hewn figures are described afterwards in the Apocalypse as the foundations of the Heavenly Jerusalem, now polished into precious stones that show forth the glory of God.

For what special purpose did Christ choose the twelve? What were their functions? Here it becomes necessary to distinguish between two senses of the word “Apostle.” In the Didache, in the Apocalypse, and in the Pastor of Hermas, the word is applied as a title of honour to missionaries who evangelise pagan districts; just as today we call St. Francis Xavier the Apostle of India. But in the strict sense of the word, “Apostle” denotes three characteristics-a mission from Christ and direct communication with Him, as well as the preaching of His doctrine.

In this sense, an Apostle is one invested by Christ with the power of governing His Church, of celebrating the Eucharistic Sacrifice, of remitting sins, of teaching and baptising (cf. Matt., 16; 19; 18,18; Luk. 22,19; 1 Cor., 11,25; John, 20,23; Matt. 29,19–20; Mark, 16,15; Luk, 24,47, etc,). We see them at this work in the Acts and in the Letters, administering sacraments, preaching the word of God, judging in all questions of Christian Doctrine, inflicting penalties where necessary, and acting as the natural administrators of ecclesiastical property. (Cf. Acts, 6,5: 8,14–17; 2,4; 14–36; 3,12–26; 15,22–29; 1 Cor., 5,1–8; I Tim., 1,20, etc.). And what is of supreme importance, they can transmit their powers to others by the imposition of hands. Such are the functions of the Apostles as described in the New Testament.

Were they all equal in power and dignity? No, one of them was singled out by Christ as leader -St. Peter, called Cephas, the rock on which the Church was built. The proof of that is to be found in the famous texts of Matt., 16,13–19, and John, 21,15–17, the one containing the promise of primacy, the other the actual bestowal of it. This is not the place to enter into an elaborate, critical discussion of these passages. The attacks made on them by some nonCatholic scholars (such as Harnack, Resch, Holtzmann, Loisy, etc.) have not shaken their authenticity. Our MSS. and our versions, which decide authenticity, are all in favour of the texts as we have them, and when we remember that the undivided Church before the Eastern Schism, and the Western Church down to Reformation times, accepted them as authentic, we need say no more.

Nor can any ingenuity of interpretation elude their dogmatic significance. The metaphors of foundation; keys, binding and loosing, obviously point to jurisdiction. Peter is the firm basis on which the fabric of the Church is to repose; he is to be the cause of its unshakeable solidity against the Forces of persecution, corruption, and decay- against the gates of hell. Every social edifice gets its stability from authority, and if Peter’s authority is to be the very foundation stone of the Church, it means that he is, after Christ, the supreme authority, the universal ruler, with full monarchical power. The metaphor of the keys shows that nothing can be done in the Church without his approval; the metaphor of unlimited binding and loosing, to be ratified in Heaven, expresses complete universal jurisdiction, legislative, judicial and executive. In the Text of John, Peter is given the commission to feed the lambs and the sheep of Christ, that is, to rule over the various ranks of the faithful with that power which is symbolized in a shepherd’s ruling over his flock, a power which is often used as a metaphor for royal power in ancient literature, both Pagan and Christian. Homer calls Kings the “poimenes laon,” “shepherds of the people”; and Christ himself used the metaphor to describe His own power when He called Himself the Good Shepherd. These texts and many others place it beyond doubt that Christ, gave to Peter an absolute primacy of jurisdiction in the Apostolic College. He ruled the Church as a monarch, representing Christ Himself.

Yet to the other Apostles also Our Lord gave a governing authority. In Matt. 18, 18 He uses words identical to those He used to Peter in 16, 16 when He said to the Apostles. “Whatsoever you shall bind upon earth shall he bound also in Heaven.” To the Apostles all, not merely to Peter, Christ gave a solemn mission: “As the Father hath sent Me, I also send you” (John, 20, 26), and (Matt., 28, I8) :”Going therefore, teach ye all nations.” He sends them to teach with authority and to make disciples. And thus they acted. We see them in the Acts passing laws, which they describe as binding in conscience. The history of the first Ecumenical Council, the Council of Jerusalem, shows them already exercising their powers to the fullest extent. St. Paul, too, acting with the authority of a recognised Apostle, made various regulations, composed differences, stamped out abuses, legislated with regard to the conduct of women in church, and laid down the duties of priests and deacons. Accordingly, the monarchy of Peter, while, full and perfect, is nevertheless limited by an element of aristocracy, in so far as it admits to the exercise of supreme power in the Church the whole body of Apostles in conjunction with its head.

St. Peter then is not the sole teacher in the Church; he is not the only ruler. The divine commission to preach, the power to bind and loose, was not given to him alone, but to all the Apostles in conjunction with him. Nor are the other Apostles merely delegates of Peter in teaching and governing; they have authority directly from Christ Himself. The primacy of Peter is indeed supreme and complete; but though supreme, he is not alone. Side by side with him, and subordinate to him, there are other teachers and rulers. Thus while the authority of each is undisturbed, the unity of all is emphasised. Such was the constitution of the Church, dictated to the Apostles by Christ Himself.

That this constitution was to last as long as time should last is clear from the promises of Christ to be with His Church all days even to the consummation of the world. Hence, it requires no proof that, if the Church is built upon Peter’s authority as an edifice is built on a rock, Peter’s authority must last while the Church lasts. And as the other Apostles no less than Peter form an essential element in the constitution of the Church, so too must their power endure. The mission of Peter and the Apostles was to persevere to the end of time; consequently, the authority of Peter and the Apostles must be handed down from generation to generation until the consummation comes.

Where is that authority today?

Who are the successors of St. Peter and the Apostles in the modern world?

With regard to Peter’s successor, the answer is abundantly clear. None but the Bishop of Rome can claim recognition as Primate of the universal Church. It is a matter of history; and history provides an uncontrovertible answer. The eternal manifestations of that primacy may vary from age to age; the essence of it remains unchanged. We do not find, indeed, in the early Church the same names, the same formulae, the same ceremonial as we find to-day. We do not hear of Clement I. writing a Motu Proprio, of Linus issuing an Encyclical Letter, of Cletus sending forth a Papal Bull, we do not even find the word Pope or Pontiff, nor do we hear of a tiara or a phanon, a sedes gestatoria or flabelli. But we do hear in unmistakeable terms of the decisions of the Bishop of Rome being final, of Rome as the touchstone of orthodoxy and the last court of appeal.

The evidence for that can be traced to Clement in the first century, through Ignatius and Irenaeus in the second, Tertullian and Cyprian in the third, Jerome, Ambrose, and Augustine in the fourth, till in succeeding centuries the stream of evidence swells into a river.

To trace the succession of Apostolic authority is no less simple. There is just one difficulty that may mislead the unwary reader. We meet in the New Testament the word ―elder” (in Greek, presbyter), which nowadays is used for the priest; and the word “overseer” (in Greek, episcopes), which nowadays designates a bishop, But if we read carefully, we shall see that these words cannot be construed as meaning priest and bishop in our sense. They are used indiscriminately; they are applied to the same men, men whom we may call episcopoi-presbyteroi. Exactly what function these episcopoi-presbyteroi exercised in the apostolic heirarchy is still a disputed point; most likely they are the priests. I touch on the point here merely to show that these words do not decide our question as to the successors of the Apostles.

For those successors we must look to the men whom the Apostles themselves chose to share with them the full labors and functions of the Apostolate, and to carry on the work after their death. These men, St. Paul calls by various names: “his fellow-workers,” “his colleagues,” “his adjutants and companions in arms,” etc.; but the name does not matter; it is to the facts we must look. They are men like Mark, Silas, Timothy, Titus, Caius of Derbe, Aristarchus of Thessalonica, Sopatros of Berea, etc. (Cf. Thess., 4, 12; Cor., 4, 17; Phil., 11–19; Tit., 1, 5–9, etc.). The pastoral letters inform us of the nature and functions of these helpers. They are teachers of the faith, rulers of the Churches; and what is of supreme importance in this question, they have jurisdiction over and power of ordaining the episcopoi-presbyteroi. These were the men who were destined to carry on the work of the Apostles after their death, who were to succeed the Apostles as rulers of the Church, and these were the men to whom the Bishops of the Catholic Church today trace their authority in an unbroken line of succession.

All this establishes securely the Apostolic and therefore the Divine origin of what we now call the Episcopate, as superior in power of order and of jurisdiction to the priests.

From the earliest times, too, that power was exercised on a monarchical basis; that is, the whole college of bishops did not rule over the whole Church like a cabinet over parliament, but each bishop was ruler over his particular territory. Thus Paul was the monarchical bishop of the Churches he founded; so too was James the monarchical bishop of Jerusalem; and we find that the bishops appointed by the Apostles accepted the monarchical system as a matter of course, as for example, St. Polycarp, who was made bishop of Smyrna by the Apostle St. John. Moreover, St. Ignatius writing about, the year 107 A.D., speaks of the hierarchy as we have it in our days as already a well-established and universal fact in history.

To sum up the evidence of scripture and history, Christ, in founding His Church, gave to His Apostles the divine mission of teaching the faith, administering the sacraments, and governing the faithful in all questions of faith, worship, and morality. Amongst them He chose Peter to be their supreme head. The Apostles, in obedience to Christ, and working under Peter’s directions, founded Churches, wherever they penetrated, and established over their flocks priests and deacons. The priests, charged to celebrate the Eucharist and to guide the faithful as delegates of the Apostles, are all uniform in dignity; and the Apostles retain in their own hands supreme direction over large tracts of territory. In order to perpetuate their mission, and in obedience to the will of Christ, they communicated their powers in full to some chosen disciples. When the Church had spread far and wide, the huge tracts of territory over which the Apostles or their successors ruled became too cumbrous, regional sees ceased to exist and local churches arose in their stead, with a ruler at the head of each. These successors became known later by the definite technical name of Bishops; and amongst them on the successor of St. Peter, the Bishop of Rome, fell the mantle of Peter’s supremacy. Such is, in brief, the divinely ordained Apostolate; and this sketch of it is merely a resume of the testimony of Scripture and history.

The divinely appointed rulers of the faithful, then, in matters of faith and morals, worship and discipline, are the Pope for the universal Church, and the Bishop in His diocese. As divinely appointed rulers, we are, of course, obliged to hear them. He that heareth them, heareth Christ. They have a divine right freely to preach the Gospel everywhere, to govern their flocks, wherever found, to declare for them not merely what is the true Faith of Christ, but also what is morally right and morally wrong. No human power has any right to restrain them, for God Himself has appointed them.

Let us try to realise the significance of this sublime truth. It means that in the hierarchy of the Catholic Church every generation from the time of Christ has had as it’s guides in the spiritual life men who no less truly than Peter or Matthew have been called by Christ to the Divine Apostolate He founded so long ago on the Horns of Hattin. That is a tremendous fact in the history of humanity as it is a tremendous fact for us today.

To illustrate even briefly what it has meant in human history is a well-nigh impossible task. The work of the episcopate is principally spiritual; it is largely hidden in the souls of men, hidden with Christ in God. In history we can only catch glimpses of its more external results. But even here how large the Catholic episcopate looms in the history of Europe, of civilisation and of the world? The great Bishops of the early Church who fought the first furious battles for the purity of the faith and the liberty of the Church, Athanasius, Chrysostom, Cyril, Ambrose, Augustine-the founders of scientific theology-men whose very names conjure up visions of mighty personalities, of profound intellects, of majestic eloquence and of heroic sanctity; the bishops of barbarian times, around whose humble palaces the battle for civilisation raged, who handed on, the culture of the ancient world to the Middle Ages, and won for themselves the stately title of “defensores civitatis”; the bishops of the Carolingian age, Hincmar of Rheims, Gerbert of Aurillac, Lanfranc of Canterbury, who in their episcopal schools prepared the way for the Universities and heralded the great developments of Scholasticism ; the bishops of the glorious Middle Ages and the Renaissance, patrons of art and architecture, letters and science, charity and piety; the many heroic bishops who resisted the pseudo-Reformation, some of them even unto blood; the fearless bishops of modern times, leaders in missionary activity, in moral and social reform, in works of charity, men like Lavigerie, Ketteler, Manning, Dupanloup ,Mercier; Patrick, Malachy, Laurence O’Toole, Oliver Plunket, J.K.L., to mention only a few-compared to these, there is no line of men, princes or statesmen or scientists, who have meant so much to humanity even from the worldly point of view, and it is only when the Recording Angel opens his book that we shall know what they have meant for the eternal destiny of souls. An old medieval German proverb sums up the history of Europe’s formation by the Church: “Es geht wohl unter dem Hirtenstab”: “It is good to be ruled by the crosier.”

There are indeed some dark spots on the bright canvas. There have been times when corruption has crept into the Church, when nepotism and pluralism and simony have raised their ugly heads even amongst the episcopate. There was a time when Dante could make Peter say of his barque:

O navicella mia, com’ mal sei carca!

There was even a time so awful that it was possible to say, in Baronius’ terrifying phrase, that it almost seemed that Christ had fallen asleep again in Peter’s boat, or that he was carried once more in the arms of Satan.

It is no part of Catholic duty to glide over these sad facts, any more than it is anyone else’s duty to gloat over them. Rare defects in the human machinery of a Divine institution need not surprise us unduly, especially when we remember that Christ Himself prepared us for the shock. After all, He did not found His Church to be a cenacle of the elect, but a world-wide institution embracing all men. He described it as a net containing good fish and bad, as a field containing cockle as well as wheat. Did He not Himself choose a Judas, qui proditor fuit? St. Paul gives a similar warning when he tells us that the Church, though it is the Mystical Body of Christ, bears upon it the marks of His wounds. Truly we carry this treasure in fragile vessels.

But the enemies of the Church have exaggerated these failings out of all proportion and have turned a blind eye to her infinitely more numerous virtues. When we consider the ages during which the Church was the ruling factor in men’s lives from the cradle to the grave, when they derived from her consolation and help not only in the spiritual, but also in the bodily sphere, when learning and art and science and every work of the mind came from her, when she was, as now and always, the bulwark of the poor and the oppressed, when at every turn she fed the souls of men with beauty and with hope, when she was the mater pulchrae dilecions et agnitionis et, sanctae spei, when we remember all this, the failings of a few are of no great account in comparison. They dwindle into insignificance beside the marvellous army of saints-saints in deserts and in cities, on thrones and in hovels, in cloisters and schools, in hospitals and slums; and beside the millions of the faithful who have lived quiet hidden lives in prayer and purity and the tireless service of God, men and women of every age and condition, who have been transformed into the image of Christ by obedience to the pastors of the Church, achieving a sanctity that has ever been in the Church a visible mark of her divine origin.

Nor is it likely that the Church will ever again suffer the shock of scandal on a large scale. She has learnt the lessons of the tenth century and of the Renaissance. From the time of the Council of Trent down to the recent codification of Canon Law, wise decrees have ensured fidelity to discipline, and the increasing ease of communication permits a firmer hand of government. Moreover, the Church in modern times has cast off nearly everywhere that interference of the temporal power which so often and so disastrously hindered her free spiritual activity in the past. Today no one can say that she owes her wonderful and increasing influence to the favour of princes, the support of governments or the docility of peoples. Not since the days of the persecutions has the Church been so weak in worldly power and so strong spiritually as today; never was the moral grandeur of the Papacy so obvious; never was the episcopate more closely and enthusiastically united to the Holy See; never was the loyalty of the clergy and the laity more devoted and enlightened; and there has seldom been such an array of brilliant figures, lay and ecclesiastical, so fully conscious of the solemnity and dignity of the Church’s mission, and so wholeheartedly devoting their lives and their talents to her service.

But the Pope and the Bishops are urged by a divine discontent. They ask for more. The great Pope now gloriously reigning,* whose courageous acts and profound encyclicals have made the Vatican more than ever the barbican of faith and the fortress of morals, has issued a call to the Catholics of the world to co-operate more closely still with the hierarchy in the work of salvation. That is what Pius XI means when he calls the laity to Catholic Action. To help the Pope and the Bishops, the successors of Peter and the Apostles, to establish the peace of Christ in the Kingdom of Christ-surely it is an inspiring programme and an irresistible call. If St. Peter himself were to say to us, ―Come and help,‖ would we hesitate? If the Apostle John were to call us to his assistance, would we refuse? Yet when Pius XI calls us, or when our bishop calls us, it is truly an Apostle that calls. If only we can realise that, if only we can appreciate that we are called by men who are the successors of those whom Christ Himself called, surely we will rise with alacrity, as Matthew did of old in the toll-house at Capharnaum, and leaving all, follow Christ. *Pope Pius XI.

Nihil Obstat:

Reccaredus Fleming,

Censor Theol. Deput.

Imprimi Potest:

@ Eduardus, Archiep. Dublinen,

Hiberniae Primas. Dublini. Die 10 Aug., 1934. ********

The Dogma of The Assumption

BY MOST REV JOHN CARMEL HEENAN, D.D., PH.D

INDEX

ONE of the chief reasons why the teaching of the Catholic Church is often opposed even by friendly critics is that they do not understand our technical terms. Protestants instinctively suspect, for example, transubstantiation it is such a long and foreign sounding word. The non-Catholic world has now learned of the doctrine of the Assumption through the great publicity given to its solemn definition. It is another unusual word. This may be, in part, the reason why its meaning has not been readily understood.

What do Catholics mean by the Assumption? They mean that the Son of God has taken His Mother, body and soul, to reign in glory with Him. They mean that Jesus Christ preserved the body of His Mother from dissolution in the tomb. Before discussing the belief of Christians down the centuries, it is worth while to observe that there is nothing very remarkable about the claim made for the Mother of Jesus. It would have been very remarkable, on the contrary, had there been no Assumption. For this would have meant that the Blessed Virgin, though not heir to the sin of Adam, would, nevertheless, have been made to suffer the consequences of that sin.

This becomes more clear when we remember that the bodies of all the just are destined to rise again. “What is sown corruptible, rises incorruptible: what is sown unhonoured, rises in glory: what is sown in weakness, is raised in power, what is sown a natural body, rises a spiritual body.” (1 Cor. xv. 42–44.) So the body of the Virgin Mary, like those of all the brethren of Jesus, would in the end have been transfigured in glory. “As all have died with Adam, so with Christ all will he brought to life.” (1 Cor. xv. 22.) Without any special definition of the Church it could, therefore, have been argued that this was fitting for the Immaculate Mother of God to be raised in glory without that period of waiting which is the result of the Fall of man.

But there is no need to speculate on what might have been. It is enough to discuss what has really happened. We may ask first, is Mary, body and soul, in glory? and, secondly, how can we know that this is true? In order to answer these questions we must inquire how Catholics know the truth about any doctrine of faith. For the dogma of the Assumption is not in a different category from every other. Catholics do not profess belief in any doctrines defined by the Church only after examining the reasons given by the Church for her decisions. First of all, they accept the truth of God upon the Church’s authority. Then they apply reason to discover why the Church solemnly defines a doctrine. The Catholic, in other words, does not believe the Church merely because he finds himself in agreement with her definitions. The Catholic agrees with her definitions because he is convinced beyond all doubt that God has guaranteed the authority of the Church from error.

We must ask how the definition of the dogma of the Assumption came about. Before doing so, however, it must be made clear that the Church never, in fact, teaches new doctrines. But from time to time she defines doctrines whose full meaning was hitherto not appreciated. In the year A.D. 325, for example, the Church defined the doctrine that Jesus Christ has one and the same nature with God the Father. This took place at the Council of Nicaea. The technical term used by the Fathers of the Council was that Jesus Christ is consubstantial-with the Father. No one would suggest that it had taken Christians nearly three hundred years to discover that Jesus Christ is truly God. But it took all this time for the Church to feel the need of stating the old doctrine in fresh terms. The reason was that certain Christians had fallen into the error of calling Jesus Christ divine in a large and vague sense while denying that He is truly God.

It was more than a hundred years after the Council of Nicaea that another Council (Chalcedon, A.D. 451) defined the doctrine that Christ has two complete and perfect natures, the nature of God and the nature of Man. Christ has two natures-the Council declared-each perfect in itself and each distinct from the other. Yet these natures are perfectly united in one Person. That Person is the Second Person of the Blessed Trinity. Once more we can say that Christians had always believed this truth. The Church now defined it because some religious thinkers had confused the divine with the human nature in Christ.

There are two examples of how the knowledge of the faithful was clarified by the guidance of the Church. In neither case did it take hundreds of years for these truths to be given by God to His Church. The truth was there from the beginning. That Jesus Christ is true God and true Man is clearly stated in the Holy Scripture. But the implications of this truth became clear beyond doubt only after theologians had disputed among themselves. When the time was judged opportune, the Church silenced controversy and declared in unmistakable terms the truth entrusted to her keeping.

Now we may take a third and, to our present purpose, a more important example. In the year A.D. 431 a Council ,of the Church was held at Ephesus in order to give the faithful some guidance about the position of the Virgin Mary. Everyone knew that she was the Mother of Jesus. Everyone also knew that Jesus is truly God. Yet some said that Mary could not rightly be called the Mother of God (Theotokos). She should be called only Mother of Christ. For He, could only have received His human nature from His mother. So, once again, the supreme authority of the Church needed to he heard. The Church defined the doctrine that Mary is truly the Mother of God. Every mother is the mother of a person. We do not say that Mrs. Smith is the mother only of the human nature of her son John Smith. We say that she is the mother of this person John Smith. So Mary was declared to be the mother of this Person Who is truly God. Thus she is truly the Mother of God.

This example is an important one for the following reason. If anyone were to read history without understanding the nature of the Catholic Church, he might be temptedto say. “It wasn’t until the year A.D. 431 that Catholics started to call the Virgin Mary “Mother of God”.” In a way he would he right. But in another way he would be very wrong. He would he right in saying that this title was officially confirmed by the Church’s authority only in A.D. 431. He would be wrong in thinking that until the fifth century Christians had not known that Mary is the Mother of God.

Now let us come to the question of the Assumption of Our Lady. A man knowing nothing about the Catholic religion might have opened any newspaper on November 2nd and said: “I see that the Catholics have invented a new doctrine. They have suddenly decided that the Virgin Mary has been assumed, body and soul, into heaven.” But he would he wrong. The Catholic Church has not invented a new doctrine in A.D. 1950 any more than she did in A.D. 431. It is not a question of teaching new truths. What the Church has done is to make official a truth entrusted to her from the beginning.

Now we may ask -is it true to say that the Assumption of Our Lady has been believed by Christians from the earliest days of the Church? Again, why has the Pope chosen this moment to define the doctrine? It is easy to understand why other dogmatic definitions had to be made. The voice of the Church had to be heard because some Christians were denying doctrines. But no one has been denying the doctrine of the Assumption. So, it may be argued, even though this doctrine is true, there seems to be little reason for insisting upon its truth at this moment and of imposing it upon the faithful.

The first and more important question to answer is whether or not the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin is, indeed, a fact. If it is true, it does not seem to matter when the Church declares that the fact must be accepted. We shall enquire later why the Church has chosen this moment. But it is more to our purpose to show first that the Assumption of Our Lady is and has always been one of those truths committed by God to the guardianship of His Church.

A matter-of-fact seeker for the truth might be expected to demand historical proof of the Assumption. If Mary was taken into heaven he might ask when did it happen? from where was she taken? and what occurred in heaven, when she arrived? These sound to be reasonable questions. But in fact, the Assumption of Our Lady is not, strictly speaking, a matter of history. For history concerns itself with those things which happen at a particular time. The Assumption of Our Lady is an event which did not take place in time at all.

In order to understand how this can he true we, must notice that the word Assumption covers a whole series, of events. It may be thought that the Assumption means the actual taking of the body of the Virgin Mary from this earth. But that is not what the Church means by the Assumption. The doctrine is concerned, not with the taking of Mary from earth, but the taking of Mary into heaven. That Mary was taken from a certain place is obviously a matter of history. But the entry of Mary, body and soul, into the glory of heaven could not conceivably be known to historians. This consideration is important. It should not be dismissed as a mere play on words. The point may be illustrated by the example of the Ascension of Our Blessed Lord. It is a matter of history that at a certain moment, forty days after His Resurrection, Jesus Christ was taken from the sight of the apostles. Historians dispute as to the exact date of the occurrence. The only document we have to guide us is the Acts of the Apostles. From it we know that He had been speaking to His disciples and “While they looked on, He was raised up, and a cloud received Him out of their sight.” (Acts 1. 9.)

Consider this example. Jesus was taken from their sight. They did not see Him enter heaven. That He entered heaven is a matter, not of history, but of divine faith. Two men in white garments standing near the bewildered disciples addressed them in these words. “Ye men of Galilee, why stand you looking up to heaven? This Jesus who is taken up from you into heaven shall so come as you have seen Him going into heaven.” (Acts 1. 11.) The point is that history must be silent about the glorious entry of Jesus into heaven. It is not a fact about which history can speak. For history deals in time. Heaven is in eternity.

We should not, therefore, expect history to record the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin. It might well have recorded the circumstances which closed her life on earth. But even of these we are left ignorant. The early Christians would have liked much more information about the life of Mary the mother of Jesus. But Holy Scripture is very sparing in details. It is as though the humble handmaiden of the Lord was protected from publicity. “And Mary said: My soul doth magnify the Lord. And my spirit hathrejoiced in God my Saviour. Because He hath regarded the humility of His handmaid.” (Luke 1. 46–48.)

Writing at the end of the fourth century, St. Epiphanius draws attention to the fact that in searching the Scriptures men can find little about the lifeof the Blessed Virgin. “They will not find there either the death of Mary; nor if she died; nor if she was buried, nor if she was not buried. . The Scripture hath kept complete silence on the end of Mary because of the greatness of the marvel so as not toomuch to astound men’s minds. As for me, I do not venture to speak of this. I keep it in my mind and remain silent.” We may share with the writer his regret that the Scriptures do not give us an account of the last days of Mary on earth. We may also regret that they do not give us-as they do of Our Lord’s Ascension-explicit testimony to the fact that she was received in glory. But, as we have already seen, the full significance of all the words of Holy Scripture was not known to the faithful from the very beginning. As years went by the Church unfolded more and more completely the precise meaning of all that was contained in that body of truth, both written and unwritten, revealed in the apostolic age.

Just as there was a gradual growth of knowledge about the Son of God, so with the passage of time there was a growing understanding of the nature of the woman chosen to be His mother. It would be surprising if such development had not taken place. In every living person truths possessed in childhood grow clearer as the mind matures. The Church may be regarded as a moral person ever growing in maturity. The truths deposited in the infant Church, developed under the light of the guidance of the Holy Spirit, do not alter. But their content becomes more clear. The Church does not receive new revelations. That is why no new doctrine can ever be proposed to the belief of Catholics. But the guidance of God is with the Church in the twentieth, century no less than in the first or fourteenth century.

It is sometimes asked why there seems to have been no great interest in such doctrines as the Assumption in the first centuries of the Church. The answer is that a lack of records does not necessarily prove a lack of interest. But, in any case, it is reasonable to suppose that theologians would seek to understand the precise truth about the Incarnation-the central doctrine of the Catholic Faith-before turning their minds to related problems. Thus we find in the writings of the Fathers that controversy raged about the Godhead of Jesus before the precise question of His two natures was discussed. The doctrine of the two natures, in turn, was defended against the Monophysites before the existence of two wills in Christ (the divine and the human) was vindicated against the Monothelites. Doctrines are usually defined in what we may call the order of theological urgency. The position of Mary as Mother of God would obviously have to be safeguarded before her privilege of being conceived immaculate. If Mary had not been Mother of God, presumably she would not have been conceived without sin. Similarly it is logical to suppose that had she not been exempted from original sin, the heritage of all other creatures, she would not already have entered body and soul into glory with her Son.

Some writers have declared that the doctrine of the Assumption is based upon spurious stories. Their view, though erroneous, is understandable. For the authentic Scriptures say nothing explicit about the Assumption. But apocryphal works profess to give details of her death and translation to glory. There is, for example, a work called De Transitu Mariae, written probably about the year A.D. 400. In this account Jesus is said to have appeared in the room where Mary lay dying in the presence of the apostles. He committed her soul to the care of Michael the Archangel. On the following day the account goes on-while the apostles were, carrying Mary to burial, Christ again appeared and bore her away in a cloud. In heaven her body was reunited to her soul. According to other accounts the body of the Blessed Virgin lay three days in the grave before it was taken by angles to heaven. Another version tells how at her death Adam and Eve appeared in testimony of her being the Second Eve whose place was prepared in heaven by her Son, the Second Adam.

These apocryphal writings are worthy of our consideration. They do not, it need hardly he said, form the basis for Catholic belief. But their antiquity suggests that even in early ages the faithful believed that the close of the Virgin Mary’s life on earth was singular. Lacking clear guidance, the opinions of the first Christians may have varied in many details. Some seem to have held that Mary’s body never saw death. Others that she died, remained incorrupt and rose again. In the Coptic Church, for example, there were two feasts-one celebrating her death, the other her resurrection. It is significant-to say no more-that despite differences in detail we know of no Christian writer who thought that the body of Mary corrupted in the tomb. There is no record of anyone ever thinking that the end of Mary’s earthly life followed the ordinary course of nature. This is not, of course, a certain argument for the doctrine of the Assumption. But it is an indication of its early acceptance in the Church.

We must say frankly that what is called the argument from silence must be used with great caution. It would he wrong, for example, to argue from the silence of the fourth Evangelist that St. John did not know that Jesus Christ changed bread and wine into His Body and Blood at the Last Supper. Nor should we be justified in concluding from gaps in the Gospel according to St. Mark that he was ignorant of the facts of the Incarnation of the Son of God, His birth in Bethlehem and early life in Nazareth. We may not, therefore, contend from the silence of Christian antiquity that the body of the Virgin Mary did not corrupt in the tomb. That alone would be an insufficient line of reasoning.

The argument from silence, however, although not conclusive, has a certain value. If, for instance, a full biography of a world traveler were to contain no reference to England we should be justified in suspecting that he had never visited this country. We know that Caesar came and that Karl Marx came. But nobody has told us of the coming of Cicero or Napoleon or even Hitler. This, of course, does not prove that they did not come. But the silence of history makes their visits highly improbable.

Keeping this reservation in mind, there is one argument from silence which gives support for ancient belief in the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin. There is no town or country in Christendom claiming to possess the body of the Virgin Mary. Rome claims the bodies of St. Peter and St. Paul. Compostella in Spain proudly alleges possession of the body of the apostle St. James. The remains of many Christian martyrs are venerated throughout Europe in shrines reputed to be their tombs. It is at least interesting that no Christian community claims or has ever claimed to possess the body of the Virgin Mary. Yet if such a relic existed it would have been jealously guarded. It is impossible to imagine the tomb of any saint which would have been more carefully kept or more frequently visited by pilgrims than that which claimed to contain the body of her who gave birth to Jesus Christ, the Son of God.

We may now consider the value of the apocryphal accounts of the Assumption. Although useless as a basis for defining dogma they nevertheless are evidence of a Christian tradition that the Son of God intervened to save His Mother from the corruption of the tomb. We have said that no suggestion is ever made by early writers that the passing of Mary was anything but unique. We may admit that what was written in the fourth century is imaginative rather than factual. Yet these writings are, at least, a testimony to a common belief that Mary’s end was the occasion of a miracle. People believed that something wonderful had happened. Fables may therefore have been invented to satisfy Christians curious to know the details. It would be foolish to express surprise if myth, were presented to the faithful by pious writers. It is not only in matters of religion that writers seek to reconstruct an unknown past.

Most men agree, for example, that at some time or other the human race began. Reason may lead us to accept the fact of man’s creation. But reason can give us no further details. Consequently many theories have arisen to explain the origin of our species. In modern times any story which seeks to explain creation without a Creator is called a scientific hypothesis. A story which includes Almighty God is called a pious fable. But even scientific hypotheses, as they are styled, are really only guesses. Some may be good guesses, others bad. But if they seek man’s origin in a microbe or a monkey all hypotheses are guesses.

So of the early stories of the Assumption it may he said that all sought to supply the known fact with unknown details. The faithful believed that Mary is body and soul in glory. Writers set to work to guess the rest of the story. Some may have made bad or even wild guesses. Others may have made good guesses. We do not know. All we know is that none of them is part of the truth revealed by God. The teaching of the Catholic Church is based not on guesses (whether good or bad) but on the facts God has entrusted to the safe keeping of His Church.

Nobody who understands the nature of the Catholic Church will be disposed to question its right and duty to be a teacher of truth. Nobody who understands the nature of the human mind would expect it to grasp at once all that a particular truth implies. Some truths-the Blessed Trinity, for example, and the Incarnation of the Son of God-are mysteries of such depth that no number of centuries would be sufficient to enable the mind of man fully to grasp them. No human words can describe the fullness of the life of God. The only word which can describe God is the Word of God. And the Word is God. We shall be less likely to wonder at the gradual realisation of the full glory of Mary, the Mother of God, if we recall that the history of Catholic dogma is a story of unbroken progress. It was not until the eleventh century, in the oath required of Berengarius, that the Church demanded explicit profession of faith in the changing of bread and wine into the Body and Blood of Christ during Holy Mass. But the knowledge of this change was not hidden from the Church in the early centuries. Yet it was not until even later-the sixteenth century-that the Council of Trent made the word transubstantiation part of the Church’s official language in describing the Real Presence. But already in the first century St. Paul was writing to the Corinthians: “Whosoever shall eat this bread, or drink the chalice of the Lord unworthily, shall be guilty of the body and of the blood of the Lord.” (1 Cor. xi. 27.)

When the Church defined the doctrine of the Immaculate Conception through the mouth of Pope Pius IX in 1854, nothing was being added to God’s message delivered by the Angel Gabriel describing Mary as “full of grace.” The further implications of that fullness were declared by Pius IX. So Pius XII has now authoritatively defined still further the meaning of that fullness. Here are his words in the Dogmatic Bull which defined the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin on November 1st., 1950:

THIS PRIVILEGE SHONE WITH NEW SPLENDOUR WHEN PIUS IX OUR PREDECESSOR OF HAPPY MEMORY SOLEMNLY DEFINED THE DOCTRINE OF THE IMMACULATE CONCEPTION OF THE MOTHER OF GOD.

FOR THESE TWO PRIVILEGES ARE INTIMATELY LINKED TOGETHER. CHRIST, INDEED, OVERCAME SIN AND DEATH BY HIS OWN DEATH.

WHOEVER IS BORN AGAIN TO A NEW LIFE THROUGH BAPTISM HAS CONQUERED SIN AND DEATH THROUGH THE SAME CHRIST.

BUT GOD DID NOT WISH TO CONFER UPON THE JUST THE FULL EFFECT OF THE VICTORY OVER DEATH UNTIL THE END OF TIME SHOULD COME.

THE BODIES OF THE JUST, THEREFORE, AFTER DEATH RETURN TO DUST. ONLY IN THE LAST DAY ARE THEY JOINED ONCE MORE IN GLORY TO THEIR SOULS.

BUT GOD WISHED THE BLESSED VIRGIN MARY TO BE EXEMPT FROM THIS GENERAL LAW.

FOR SHE BY A SINGULAR PRIVILEGE HAD CONQUERED SIN THROUGH HER IMMACULATE CONCEPTION AND THEREFORE SHE WAS NOT SUBJECT TO THE LAW OF CORRUPTION IN THE GRAVE. NOR DID SHE NEED TO WAIT UNTIL THE END OF TIME FOR THE REDEMPTION OF HER BODY.

For the Catholic the matter ends once the Pope has spoken. When the supreme head of the Church speaks, as we say, ex cathedra he makes an infallible decision binding upon the minds and consciences of all the faithful. The infallibility of the Pope must surely be the most obvious of all Catholic doctrines. For if the Church cannot speak infallibly God has, in the literal sense of the word, deserted His Church.

There can scarcely be any rational explanation of the attitude of those Christians who declare that God’s guidance of the Church ceased after the fourth General Council. If the Church was guaranteed against error in the first five centuries, why should she not need guidance in the last five centuries-or, for that matter, in the next five centuries? If the Church now has no need of divine guidance she had still less need in those early days when the faithful were so much closer to the times Christ and His apostles.

But, admittedly, those who deny the Church’s present right to define doctrines rarely choose to base their argument upon lack of divine guidance. That is too obviously a blasphemy. Less obviously but no less truly is it a blasphemy to say that the supreme authority of the Catholic Church could define a doctrine which is indefinable. For if the Church is preserved from error, she must be preserved equally in the exercise of her power as in the power itself. If the Church teaches as a doctrine to be held by all what it is beyond her power to define she is already in error. If God is with His Church she must know not only what to speak but when to speak. A Church which has ceased to claim the right to promulgate the fullness of Christ’s teaching has ceased, in fact, to claim to be the Church of Christ.

This consideration may help to give the answer to the other question which, as yet, we have not answered-if the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin is true, how can this be known? The answer quite simply is-we can know it to be true only if the Church declares it to be true. That is the reason why although before the solemn definition Catholics believed in Mary’s Assumption they could not have produced a proof with complete conviction. But it is not difficult to find other reasons for the truth of this doctrine.

The overwhelming majority of Christians throughout the world have believed in the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin. If the Assumption were not a fact we should be forced to admit that God had permitted His Church to be in error. Consider not only the Church as she is today, but her long tradition. Take, for convenience, what we call the Middle Ages. Observe the whole Christian world divided unhappily between East and West but not yet split by the new religions of the sixteenth century.

Everywhere in the Church at that time the Assumption of Our Lady was celebrated. It was, in fact, celebrated with even greater splendour in the separated Eastern communions than in the Latin Church. It would be strange-to put it no more strongly-if the whole Church had been in error concerning the privileges of the Mother of God.

It is necessary to understand that the devotion of Christian people is evidence of their beliefs. There is an accepted saying among theologians: “Lex orandi, Lex credendi-the rule of prayer-is the rule of faith.” When, therefore, we read the prayers in use in the liturgy of the Church, we are able to deduce the faith of the Church. Looking at the liturgical books of early days we judge that the present day belief of Christians in the Assumption is no different from that of Christians a thousand years ago. It is worth while to go back even beyond a thousand years. Here, for example, is a prayer taken from the Roman Sacramentary, a book sent by Pope Adrian 1 to the Emperor Charlemagne in the eighth century:

THE FEAST WE VENERATE, O LORD, IS THE DAY IN WHICH THE HOLY MOTHER OF GOD UNDERWENT EARTHLY DEATH BUT COULD NOT BE HELD BY THE CHAINS OF DEATH. FOR SHE IT WAS WHO BROUGHT FORTH THY SON OUR LORD JESUS CHRIST AND BY HER INTERCESSION, WE BESEECH THEE, MAY WE BE ABLE TO ESCAPE THE DEATH OF OUR SOULS. THROUGH THE SAME JESUS CHRIST OUR LORD, etc.

The Mass in the Mozarabic rite celebrated the Feast of the Assumption with a similar prayer. .

O ETERNAL GOD, THOU DIDST ASSUME THE GLORIOUS VIRGIN MARY THROUGH THINE ONLY BEGOTTEN SON AND HER SON OUR LORD TO THE INEXPRESSIBLE GLORY OF A HEAVENLY THRONE. TO THAT GLORY NONE AMONG MEN HAS BEEN ASSUMED AND NO WOMAN SAVE HERSELF . . .

The objection may he made that although we quote the faith of early Christians in the Assumption we are unable to show the same faith in the very first centuries. This is a real objection. But it is no more valid against the doctrine of the Assumption than against many other doctrines which no Christian would think of denying. We have seen that the doctrine which holds Mary to be the Mother of God was not formally defined until the fourth century. But doctrines are not defined overnight. A belief defined in one age has been inherited from the Christians who went before. It is not necessary that these doctrines should be found verbatim in the Bible. If it were true that only doctrines explicitly taught in Sacred Scripture could become the object of faith, there would be no case for belief in the Assumption of Our Lady. But if-as the Church teaches-the revelation of God is contained partly in the Scriptures and partly in tradition, the case for the Assumption of Our Lady is neither stronger nor weaker than the other dogmas which have been defined down the years.

It is opportune, therefore, to say a word about the theory that all doctrines must be found explicitly in Holy Scripture. The first and most apposite comment is that this doctrine itself is nowhere to be found in the Bible. No one can produce a single text of Scripture to prove that all the teachings of Christ are written down in the Bible. It can, on the contrary, be asserted on the authority of St. John the Evangelist that “there are also many other things which Jesus did: which, if they were written every one, the world itself, I think, would not-be able to contain the books that should be written” (John xxi, 25.)

The Church was teaching doctrine before a single line of the New Testament was written. It is unthinkable that Christ would have left His Church to be guided exclusively by the written word-even the written word of God. For this word cannot be understood without a teacher. The teacher cannot instruct without interpreting the written word. The living voice was necessary if not to give the plain meaning of Scripture-for all who read might do that-at least to give the meaning of those many Scriptures which, being far from plain, need to be interpreted. It must he added that we have no way of knowing which are the books of the Bible, except from the declaration of the Church. For in early centuries many writings were held in high esteem by the faithful. Every scholar knows that in some places the apocrypha were given equal reverence with the books we know now to be inspired. The Catholic Church decided which among these writings were authentic.

Christians who claim to take their religion exclusively from the Bible must first accept the warrant of the Catholic Church that their Bible is authentic. When the Scriptures are explicit there may be no need for a teacher. It is the meaning implicit in the word of God which demands the authority of a teacher divinely guided. This is yet another reason for recognizing that the infallibility of the Church’s authority is an indispensable sign of God’s Church.

Catholics are sometimes attacked because of their devotion to the Mother of God. It is said that such devotion is in some way un-English. This is a strange accusation in the mouth of an Englishman. For what made pre Reformation England famous in Christendom was the devotion and chivalry of the English people to the Blessed Virgin. An English King is portrayed in the National Gallery in London offering England to the Mother of God as a dowry. That is why this country has come to be called the Dowry of Mary.

If this nation was famous for devotion to Mary, it was in an especial way renowned for the celebration of the Feast of the Assumption of Our Lady. Even in the old Anglo-Saxon Church, King Alfred the Great made the Feast of the Assumption a public holiday. In Canterbury in the eleventh century Archbishop Lanfranc showed the fervour of the preReformation Church in England by proclaiming the Assumption the greatest of the feasts of Our Lady. The visitor to York Minster can see even today in the archway leading from the nave to the chancel a beautiful carving in honour of Our Lady’s Assumption. Whatever modern Protestants may think about Catholic devotion to Our Lady and the definition of the dogma of the Assumption, not they but English Catholics follow the tradition of the Ancient Faith of this Island.

No Catholic suggests that the definition of the Assumption of Our Lady was a matter of urgency. Catholics, with the majority of Christians, would have continued to accept that this privilege was given by Christ to His Mother even had the Church’s authority made no official pronouncement. But the Catholic can appreciate the wisdom of His Holiness Pope Pius XII in choosing the present moment for the promulgation of this ancient doctrine.

Today, as never before, the nations have fallen into the apostasy of materialism. There have been eras in history when men were doubtless more savage in behaviour. Life and property in other days may have been held more cheaply. We cannot well compare ourselves with those who came before us. For none is a safe judge in his own cause. But we can say that never before have so many men been determined to destroy all belief in religion and the after-life. There have been unhappy episodes in history when in the name of false gods nations have arisen to stamp out the Christian Faith. Never before has there been a widespread attempt to destroy the name of God in the cause of unbelief.

One of the first targets for the mockery of unbelievers is the resurrection of the body. Those who deny the existence of a spiritual soul in man deride the notion of his body as a temple of the Living God. The Resurrection of Christ is held to be a fable and the resurrection of the body-the eleventh article of the Creed of Christians-is called a delusion.

What time, therefore, could be more opportune for the definition of the glorious Assumption of the body and soul of the Virgin Mary into heaven? While the enemies of religion scoff at all resurrection, Catholics rejoice at the exaltation of that virginal body which gave life to the Incarnate God. We have been told by the authority of the Church that the body and soul of the Virgin Mary reign in glory. From this dogma we derive fresh hope-that God, Who did not suffer the body of Mary to see corruption, will bid her children on the Last Day to reign body and soul in glory with their Mother and her Divine Son.

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The Dreadfulstate ofthe Lukewarm Soul

ST. JOHN MARY VIANNEY

INDEX

In speaking to you today, my dear brethren, of the dreadful state of the lukewarm soul, my purpose is not to paint for you a terrifying and despairing picture of the soul which is living in mortal sin without even having the wish to escape from this condition. That poor unfortunate creature can but look forward to the wrath of God in the next life. Alas! These sinners hear me; they know well of whom I am speaking at this very moment. . . . We will go no further, for all that I would wish to say would serve only to harden them more. In speaking to you, my brethren, of the lukewarm soul, I do not wish, either, to speak of those who make neither their Easter duty nor their annual Confession.

They know very well that in spite of all their prayers and their other good works they will be lost. Let us leave them in their blindness, since they want to remain that way. . . .

Nor do I understand, brethren, by the lukewarm soul, that soul who would like to be worldly without ceasing to be a child of God. You will see such a one at one moment prostrate before God, his Saviour and his Master, and the next moment similarly prostrate before the world, his idol.

Poor blind creature, who gives one hand to God and the other to the world, so that he can call both to his aid, and promise his heart to each in turn! He loves God, or rather, he would like to love Him, but he would also like to please the world. Then, weary of wanting to give his allegiance to both, he ends by giving it to the world alone. This is an extraordinary life and one which offers so strange a spectacle that it is hard to persuade oneself that it could be the life of one and the same person. I am going to show you this so clearly that perhaps many among you will be hurt by it. But that will matter little to me, for I am always going to tell you what I ought to tell you, and then you will do what you wish about it. . . .

I would say further, my brethren, that whoever wants to please both the world and God leads one of the most unhappy of lives. You shall see how. Here is someone who gives himself up to the pleasures of the world or develops some evil habit.

How great is his fear when he comes to fulfil his religious duties; that is, when he says his prayers, when he goes to Confession, or wants to go to Holy Communion! He does not want to be seen by those with whom he has been dancing and passing nights at the cabarets, where he has been giving himself over to many kinds of licentiousness. Has he come to the stage when he is going to deceive his confessor by hiding the worst of his actions and thus obtain permission to go to Holy Communion, or rather, to commit a sacrilege? He would prefer to go to Holy Communion before or after Mass, that is to say, when there is no one present. Yet he is quite happy to be seen by the good people who know nothing about his evil life and among whom he would like to arouse good opinions about himself. In front of devout people he talks about religion. When he is with those who have no religion, he will talk only about the pleasures of the world. He would blush to fulfil his religious practices in front of his companions or those boys and girls who share his evil ways. . . .

This is so true that one day someone asked me to allow him to go to Holy Communion in the sacristy so that no one would see him. Is it possible, my brethren, that one could think upon such horrible behaviour without shuddering?

But we shall proceed further and you will see the embarrassment of these poor people who want to follow the world without-outwardly at any rate-leaving God. Here is Easter approaching. They must go to Confession. It is not, of course, that they want to go or that they feel any urge or need to receive the Sacrament of Penance. They would be only too pleased if Easter came around about once every thirty years. But their parents still retain the exterior practice of religion. They will be happy if their children go to the altar, and they keep urging them, then, to go to Confession. In this, of course, they make a mistake. If only they would just pray for them and not torment them into committing sacrileges. So to rid themselves of the importunity of their parents, to keep up appearances, these people will get together to find out who is the best confessor to try for absolution for the first or second time

“Look,” says one, “my parents keep nagging at me because I haven’t been to Confession. Where shall we go?” “It is of no use going to our parish priest; he is too scrupulous. He would not allow us to make our Easter duty. We will have to try to find So-and-So. He let this one and that one go through, and they are worse than we are. We have done no more harm than they have.”

Another will say: “I assure you that if it were not for my parents I would not make my Easter duty at all. Our catechism says that to make a good Confession we must give up sin and the occasions of sin, and we are doing neither the one nor the other. I tell you sincerely that I am really embarrassed every time Easter comes around. I will be glad when the time comes for me to settle down and to cease gallivanting. I will make a confession then of my whole life, to put right the ones I am making now. Without that I would not die happy.”

“Well,” another will say to him, “when that time comes you ought to go to the priest who has been hearing your confessions up to the present. He will know you best.” “Indeed no! I will go to the one who would not give me absolution, because he would not want to see me damned either.”

“My word, aren’t you good! That means nothing at all. They all have the same power.”

“That is a good thing to remember when we are doing what we ought to do. But when we are in sin, we think otherwise.

One day I went to see a girl who was pretty careless. She told me that she was not going back to Confession to the priests who were so easy and who, in making it seem as if they wanted to save you, pushed you into Hell.” That is how many of these poor blind people behave! “Father,” they will say to the priest, “I am going to Confession to you because our parish priest is too exacting. He wants to make us promise things which we cannot hold to. He would have us all saints, and that is not possible in the world. He would want us never to go to dances, nor to frequent cabarets or amusements. If someone has a bad habit, he will not give Absolution until the habit has been given up completely. If we had to do all that we should never make our Easter duty at all. My parents, who are very religious, are always after me to make my Easter duty. I will do all I can. But no one can say that he will never return to these amusements, since he never knows when he is going to encounter them.”

“Ah!” says the confessor, quite deceived by this sincere sounding talk, “I think your parish priest is perhaps a little exacting. Make your act of contrition, and I will give you Absolution. Try to be good now.”

That is to say: Bow your head; you are going to trample in the adorable Blood of Jesus Christ; you are going to sell your God like Judas sold Him to His executioners, and tomorrow you will go to Holy Communion, where you will proceed to crucify Him. What horror! What abomination! Go on, vile Judas, go to the holy table, go and give death to your God and your Saviour! Let your conscience cry out, only try to stifle its remorse as much as you can. . . . But I am going too far, my brethren. Let us leave these poor blind creatures in their gloom.

I think, brethren, that you would like to know what is the state of the lukewarm soul. Well, this is it. A lukewarm soul is not yet quite dead in the eyes of God because the faith, the hope, and the charity which are its spiritual life are not altogether extinct. But it is a faith without zeal, a hope without resolution, a charity without ardour. . . .

Nothing touches this soul: it hears the word of God, yes, that is true; but often it just bores it. Its possessor hears it with difficulty, more or less by habit, like someone who thinks that he knows enough about it and does enough of what he should.

Any prayers which are a bit long are distasteful to him. This soul is so full of whatever it has just been doing or what it is going to do next, its boredom is so great, that this poor unfortunate thing is almost in agony. It is still alive, but it is not capable of doing anything to gain Heaven. . . .

For the last twenty years this soul has been filled with good intentions without doing anything at all to correct its habits.

It is like someone who is envious of anyone who is on top of the world but who would not deign to lift a foot to try to get there himself. It would not, however, wish to renounce eternal blessings for those of the world. Yet it does not wish either to leave the world or to go to Heaven, and if it can just manage to pass its time without crosses or difficulties, it would never ask to leave this world at all. If you hear someone with such a soul say that life is long and pretty miserable, that is only when everything is not going in accordance with his desires. If God, in order to force such a soul to detach itself from temporal things, sends it any cross or suffering, it is fretful and grieving and abandons itself to grumbles and complaints and often even to a kind of despair. It seems as if it does not want to see that God has sent it these trials for its good, to detach it from this world and to draw it towards Himself. What has it done to deserve these trials? In this state a person thinks in his own mind that there are many others more blameworthy than himself who have not to submit to such trials.

In prosperous times the lukewarm soul does not go so far as to forget God, but neither does it forget itself. It knows very well how to boast about all the means it has employed to achieve its prosperity. It is quite convinced that many others would not have achieved the same success. It loves to repeat that and to hear it repeated, and every time it hears it, it is with fresh pleasure. The individual with the lukewarm soul assumes a gracious air when associating with those who flatter him. But towards those who have not paid him the respect which he believes he has deserved or who have not been grateful for his kindnesses, he maintains an air of frigid indifference and seems to indicate to them that they are ungrateful creatures who do not deserve to receive the good which he has done them. . . .

If I wanted to paint you an exact picture, my brethren, of the state of a soul which lives in tepidity, I should tell you that it is like a tortoise or a snail. It moves only by dragging itself along the ground, and one can see it getting from place to place with great difficulty. The love of God, which it feels deep down in itself, is like a tiny spark of fire hidden under a heap of ashes.

The lukewarm soul comes to the point of being completely indifferent to its own loss. It has nothing left but a love without tenderness, without action, and without energy which sustains it with difficulty in all that is essential for salvation. But for all other means of Grace, it looks upon them as nothing or almost nothing. Alas, my brethren, this poor soul in its tepidity is like someone between two bouts of sleep. It would like to act, but its will has become so softened that it lacks either the force or the courage to accomplish its wishes.

It is true that a Christian who lives in tepidity still regularly-in appearance at least-fulfils his duties. He will indeed get down on his knees every morning to say his prayers. He will go to the Sacraments every year at Easter and even several times during the course of the twelve months. But in all of this there will be such a distaste, so much slackness and so much indifference, so little preparation, so little change in his way of life, that it is easy to see that he is only fulfilling his duties from habit and routine. . . . because this is a feast and he is in the habit of carrying them out at such a time. His Confessions and his Communions are not sacrilegious, if you like, but they are Confessions and Communions which bear no fruit-which, far from making him more perfect and more pleasing to God, only make him more unworthy. As for his prayers, God alone knows what-without, of course, any preparation-he makes of these.

In the morning it is not God who occupies his thoughts, nor the salvation of his poor soul; he is quite taken up with thoughts of work. His mind is so wrapped up in the things of earth that the thought of God has no place in it. He is thinking about what he is going to be doing during the day, where he will be sending his children and his various employees, in what way he will expedite his own work. To say his prayers, he gets down on his knees, undoubtedly, but he does not know what he wants to ask God, nor what he needs, nor even before whom he is kneeling. His careless demeanour shows this very clearly. It is a poor man indeed who, however miserable he is, wants nothing at all and loves his poverty. It is surely a desperately sick person who scorns doctors and remedies and clings to his infirmities.

You can see that this lukewarm soul has no difficulty, on the slightest pretext, in talking during the course of his prayers.

For no reason at all he will abandon them, partly at least, thinking that he will finish them in another moment. Does he want to offer his day to God, to say his Grace? He does all that, but often without thinking of the one who is addressed. He will not even stop working. If the possessor of the lukewarm soul is a man, he will turn his cap or his hat around in his hands as if to see whether it is good or bad, as though he had some idea of selling it. If it is a woman, she will say her prayers while slicing bread into her soup, or putting wood on the fire, or calling out to her children or maid. If you like, such distractions during prayer are not exactly deliberate. People would rather not have them, but because it is necessary to go to so much trouble and expend so much energy to get rid of them, they let them alone and allow them to come as they will.

The lukewarm Christian may not perhaps work on Sunday at tasks which seem to be forbidden to anyone who has even the slightest shred of religion, but doing some sewing, arranging something in the house, driving sheep to the fields during the times for Masses, on the pretext that there is not enough food to give them-all these things will be done without the slightest scruple, and such people will prefer to allow their souls and the souls of their employees to perish rather than endanger their animals. A man will busy himself getting out his tools and his carts and harrows and so on, for the next day; he will fill in a hole or fence a gap; he will cut various lengths of cords and ropes; he will carry out the churns and set them in order. What do you think about all this, my brethren? Is it not, alas, the simple truth?

A lukewarm soul will go to Confession regularly, and even quite frequently. But what kind of Confessions are they? No preparation, no desire to correct faults, or, at the least, a desire so feeble and so small that the slightest difficulty will put a stop to it altogether. The Confessions of such a person are merely repetitions of old ones, which would be a happy state of affairs indeed if there were nothing to add to them. Twenty years ago he was accusing himself of the same things he confesses today, and if he goes to Confession for the next twenty years, he will say the same things. A lukewarm soul will not, if you like, commit the big sins. But some slander or back-biting, a lie, a feeling of hatred, of dislike, of jealousy, a slight touch of deceit or double-dealing-these count for nothing with it. If it is a woman and you do not pay her all the respect which she considers her due, she will, under the guise of pretending that God has been offended, make sure that you realise it; she could say more than that, of course, since it is she herself who has been offended. It is true that such a woman would not stop going to the Sacraments, but her dispositions are worthy of compassion.

On the day when she wants to receive her God, she spends part of the morning thinking of temporal matters. If it is a man, he will be thinking about his deals and his sales. If it is a married woman, she will be thinking about her household and her children. If it is a young girl, her thoughts will be on her clothes.

If it is a boy, he will be dreaming about passing pleasures and so on. The lukewarm soul shuts God up in a n obscure and ugly kind of prison. Its possessor does not crucify Him, but God can find little joy or consolation in his heart.

All his dispositions proclaim that his poor soul is struggling for the breath of life.

After having received Holy Communion, this person will hardly give another thought to God in all the days to follow. His manner of life tells us that he did not know the greatness of the happiness which had been his.

A lukewarm Christian thinks very little upon the state of his poor soul and almost never lets his mind run over the past. If the thought of making any effort to be better crosses his mind at all, he believes that once he has confessed his sins, he ought to be perfectly happy and at peace. He assists at Holy Mass very much as he would at any ordinary activity. He does not think at all seriously of what he is doing and finds no trouble in chatting about all sorts of things while on the way there. Possibly he will not give a single thought to the fact that he is about to participate in the greatest of all the gifts that God, all-powerful as He is, could give us. He does give some thought to the needs of his own soul, yes, but a very small and feeble amount of thought indeed. Frequently he will even present himself before the presence of God without having any idea of what he is going to ask of Him. He has few scruples in cutting out, on the least pretext, the Asperges and the prayers before Mass. During the course of the service, he does not want to go to sleep, of course, and he is even afraid that someone might see him, but he does not do himself any violence all the same. He does not want, of course, to have distractions during prayer or during the Holy Mass, yet when he should put up some little fight against them, he suffers them very patiently, considering the fact that he does not like them. Fast days are reduced to practically nothing, either by advancing the time of the main meal or, under the pretext that Heaven was never taken by famine, by making the collation so abundant that it amounts to a full meal. When he performs good or beneficial actions, his intentions are often very mixed-sometimes it is to please someone, sometimes it is out of compassion, and sometimes it is just to please the world. With such people everything that is not a really serious sin is good enough. They like doing good, being faithful, but they wish that it did not cost them anything or, at least, that it cost very little. They would like to visit the sick, indeed, but it would be more convenient if the sick would come to them. They have something to give away in alms, they know quite well that a certain person has need of help, but they wait until she comes to ask them instead of anticipating her, which would make the kindness so very much more meritorious. We will even say, my brethren, that the person who leads a lukewarm life does not fail to do plenty of good works, to frequent the Sacraments, to assist regularly at all church services, but in all of this one sees only a weak, languishing faith, hope which the slightest trial will upset, a love of God and of neighbour which is without warmth or pleasure. Everything that such a person does is not entirely lost, but it is very nearly so.

See, before God, my brethren, on what side you are. On the side of the sinners, who have abandoned everything and plunge themselves into sin without remorse? On the side of the just souls, who seek but God alone? Or are you of the number of these slack, tepid, and indifferent souls such as we have just been depicting for you? Down which road are you travelling?

Who can dare assure himself that he is neither a great sinner nor a tepid soul but that he is one of the elect? Alas, my brethren, how many seem to be good Christians in the eyes of the world who are really tepid souls in the eyes of God, Who knows our inmost hearts. . . .

Let us ask God with all our hearts, if we are in this state, to give us the grace to get out of it, so that we may take the route that all the saints have taken and arrive at the happiness that they are enjoying. That is what I desire for you. . . .

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The Duties of Married Life

BY CARDINAL MERCIER

INDEX

[The following Pastoral Letter, issued by Cardinal Mercier in Lent 1909, and then printed by His Eminence’s permission, contains so much that is of importance at the present time that it is now reissued. The statistics given are of course those of the date of publication.]

DEAR BRETHREN, -You cannot be ignorant of the danger which threatens a noble nation-our near neighbour: a nation in which, despite this danger, there still remains vast reserves of generosity and greatness of soul. In 1800 there were, in each family in France, four or five children, on an average; in 1860 there were not more than three; in 1905 there were only two. Taking the homes of France as they are at present, and setting aside 11 percent as occupied by bachelors over thirty years of age, we discover that nearly 15 percent. have no children at all; 22 percent. have one child, 20 percent. have two, 13 percent. have three; and at the very most 18 percent have more than three children.

Further, though mortality is decreasing, yet the excess of births over deaths diminishes with almost mechanical regularity. In 1902 this excess amounted to 84,000; in 1903 it fell to 73,000; In 1904 to 57,000 in 1905 to 37,000; in 1906 to 27,000. In 1907 there were 20,000 more deaths than births (Reforme Sociale, July, 1908, p. 15). “Here,” says a German observer, “are more coffins than cradles. Peoples who thus break away from the fundamental laws of life must inevitably disappear, must cease to exist-and that entirely by their own illdoing.”

Our own [Belgian] nation has prospered exceedingly. In the scale of commercial importance, Belgium, with its seven million inhabitants, occupies the fifth place—following England, Germany, the United States, and France. But relatively to her population, she heads the economic movement amongst the peoples of the Old and New World alike. We may feel a measure of patriotic pride in these material achievements, but at the same time we cannot avoid the dismal consciousness that, in certain districts of our country, the plague from which France is suffering so fearfully has made decided progress. And being aware of this state of things, we must conceive the most lively apprehension respecting the future of our fatherland. Doubtless the population of Belgium is still increasing; the death-rate, moreover, is not so great as it was; but the birth-rate is falling. As yet, thank God, the decrease is not so great as in France.

In that country statistics show no more than 20 births per thousand inhabitants; with us, until 1880 births were 31 per thousand inhabitants. But during the last twenty-five years that level has certainly not been maintained, for in 1890 Belgium could reckon only 29 births per 1,000 and in 1906-a bare 25. This decrease is most apparent in the Walloon provinces, and yet it is a fact that the number of marriages per annum has grown steadily greater.

What are we to conclude? Simply that the fruitfulness of those unions has been affected for the worse. Throughout the country, towns of any considerable importance show, as a rule, a rapidly decreasing birth-rate. In very large urban centres, the death-rate is overtaking the birth-rate in most alarming fashion; indeed, cases are not unknown where deaths are in excess of births. Hitherto people have come from the country and settled in the towns in such numbers as to fill the gaps in the urban populations—thus concealing the danger from us. But some rural districts are being swept bare of inhabitants, and taking the country as a whole, official figures present a steady decrease in the birth-rate.

[Birth—rate in Belgium for the years 1901—07:

1901, 200,077:

1902, 195,871;

1903, 192,301;

1904, 191,721;

1905, 187,437;

1906, 186,271;

1907, 185,138.]

A dastardly propaganda, carried on by means of lectures, pamphlets, newspaper articles, and practical demonstrations, encourages the suppression of child—bearing and induces parents to adopt homicidal practices in circumstances and to an extent hitherto unheard of. Certain doctors are exceedingly to blame for this state of things. Instead of acting as honest advisers to their clients of either sex, instead of enlightening them concerning their moral obligations and supporting them in the day of trial, these men are degraded enough to excuse-if they do not actually encourage-the perverse instincts born of selfishness. These men abandon their social mission, finding accomplices in sundry apothecaries’ shops, and necessary help at the hands of certain miserable midwives. And, little by little, into every class of society there filters a series of rotten, unwholesome ideas, which threaten danger to the unborn child, if they do not render parenthood wholly contemptible. Before long, child-bearing will be viewed, not as a duty, but as a burden so inconvenient that it may be- perhaps ought to be-thrown off.

One might ask if the public authorities have countered with sufficient energy a propaganda so utterly destructive of the nation’s future. Are they suitably equipped to meet and beat it? Have fathers of families displayed the watchfulness they should in bringing to justice the ruffians who, relying on our natural propensity to vice, are endeavouring to deluge decent homes with filthy literature?

The Civil Court of Lille, by a verdict, pronounced on June 6, 1907, gave judgement in favour of three good workingmen who claimed damages for the introduction into their homes of a certain indecent prospectus. The Court decided that the inviolability of men’s homes must be secured against the wholly unwelcome intrusion of publications offensive to the dignity of the home, and pernicious in the highest degree to the morality of the children and other members of the household. On July 1, 1896, the Civil Court of the Seine had already given judgement in almost identical terms, and quite recently the Criminal Courts at Charleroi condemned a wretch for publicly disseminating instructions in methods of preventing conception.

May the law deal energetically with the leaders in this vile campaign! May all decent men lend their aid by denouncing promptly and definitely such of these criminal attempts as may come to their knowledge! And may the organs of the press-laying aside all party distinction- unite in the interests of public decency and the future of our country, against the authors and abettors of these neo-Malthusian doctrines and practices!

Nevertheless public prophylactic measures, however healthy and indispensable they may be, cannot stop the tide without assistance. Why? Because the primary causes of the limitation of child-birth are hidden and personal. The notions of conjugal duty, of the healthy and vigorous education of children, are either changed or altogether perverted; and these are precisely the notions which must be strengthened in, or restored to, the moral conscience of parents. Brethren, our language may sometimes sound harsh to you and unpleasant, but remember that duty of which we must remind you is, beyond doubt, grave, peremptory, and most inadequately understood. And is it not precisely for that reason that we should impress it upon you the more emphatically, and exhort you, in season and out of season, to fulfil it in all honesty? Marriage, my brethren, is not a private agreement by which a man and woman freely pledge themselves to an exchange of affection and a community of interests-all the while retaining full liberty to separate the very day they deem it desirable or convenient. Marriage, to be sure, is freely contracted: there must be no compulsion. But once a man and woman-in complete freedom-have made this contract, their union assumes the character of an institution at once religious and national. By their union in marriage, each of the parties confers a sacrament upon the other; they are themselves the ministers whom Our Lord Jesus Christ employs for the communication of that sacramental grace of which He is the author.

The object of this grace is to place the husband and wife in a position to face the difficulties and bear the burdens entailed by the duties they have taken upon themselves. “This is a great mystery,” said St. Paul, “great before Christ and the Church (Sacramentum hoc magnum est; ego autem dico in Christo et in Ecclesia).” As Christ desired to unite Himself to the company of believers that He might lead them to the happiness of Heaven, just so a man joins himself to the woman of his choice, to the end that through fusion of their lives, children may be born to them who, in their turn, will carry on the Christian generation. The direct, the principal effect of the sacrament of marriage, is the continuation of that Church, glorious, without spot or wrinkle, ever young, ever holy, without reproach; that Church for which Our Lord Jesus Christ poured out His blood, promulgated His doctrine, instituted His Sacraments; that Church which is destined-after a short sojourn in this world of strife, toil, and trial-to glorify God forever in the unruffled, unalloyed peace and joy of Paradise. When you, brethren, are joined in marriage, when you found a family, you provide the Church of Christ with the natural channel for the transmission of her vitality. And since this transmission cannot take place normally except by the exclusive union of man and wife, and their unfailing co-partnership in the education of their children, their wills are pledged to their marriage and bound up with it indissolubly. After they have given themselves one to the other before the representative of the Church, who blessed their union, they are no longer free to withdraw their consent to that union. There, you perceive, is the reason why the Church has always claimed the right of adjusting matrimonial legislation. Furthermore, there can be no doubt that marriage is also a civil institution-a detail of public order-which the State cannot ignore. It is of vast importance that properly constituted unions should by no means be confounded with those short-lived intrigues which last as long as the caprice of passion dictates. At the same time that which, in ambiguous language, is called a civil marriage is really no marriage at all: it is nothing more than an official acknowledgement of the civil effects involved by the only union worthy the name of marriage-a religious marriage.

In Belgium and in other countries under the Napoleonic Code, the contracting parties present themselves to the magistrate before the marriage is solemnized, therefore the recognition by the law of those effects which it must legalize takes place by anticipation. Let there be no misunderstanding in this matter: at whatever time the temporal authority intervenes to regulate the legal effects of a Christian marriage, it supposes that marriage to be an it ought to suppose it to be so; and it can do no more than turn to account a state of things accomplished fact-or already existing-or presumed to exist. This state of things can arise only through a marriage ratified by the Church, not otherwise. We have said then, brethren, that the union of a Christian man and wife is indissoluble, as is its divine antitype-the union of Christ with His Church. Christ impregnates our souls with His grace and makes them bring forth the fruits of holiness. Now the primordial raison d’etre of the union of man and wife is the foundation of a family, the procreation of children, whom they have the honour, not less than the obligation, of bringing up in Christian faith and morality; to these children they are commissioned to hand down the treasures which they themselves have inherited by the fact of their incorporation in the society called the Church.

It is clear, therefore, that marriage has for its primary end a duty from which married people cannot withdraw themselves; save in the wholly exceptional case where, by mutual consent, they agree to seek in voluntary continence the realization of a higher ideal-the mortification of the senses, and closer attachment to God and their spiritual interests. How utterly mistaken then are those who represent marriage as a union of which the object is physical love, and selfinterest the condition! No doubt the material necessities of life must find a place in the considerations of those who wish to marry. That is as it should be, for married life and the care of a family to come are not matters to be undertaken in haphazard fashion. But foresight must not become mere calculation; their hopes should not degenerate into a sordid and usurious speculation.

Again, the attractions of conjugal life are certainly legitimate; nor is it in any way forbidden that men and women should be drawn by them, for they are in the nature of a reward for the acceptance of the burden of paternity and the duties of motherhood, agonizingly painful as these latter often are. And just as Nature has attached a sensible pleasure to eating and drinking-functions by which the life of the individual is sustained-so she has placed in the attractions of love a guarantee of the perpetuation of our species.

But whether the individual or the species be considered, the satisfaction of sense is only justified by the particular function which it presupposes and is bound to ensure. And as rational nature revolts from the grossness of gluttony and drunkenness, so also-but far more emphatically-does she denounce sensual pleasures when sought outside of and apart from that order which she, Nature, has laid down for the transmission of life. Brutes have nothing but instincts: these they cannot but obey, for they are incapable of moderation or self-restraint; but man is privileged to be able to elevate love to the dignity of a rational emotion. Marriage is the fusion of two human lives; it is the union of the bodies, frail to be sure, and destined soon to fade and perish, but above and beyond this, it is the union of two Souls, whose minds act together for the completion of their thoughts, whose hearts are united that theirs joys and consolations may be doubled by exchange, whose wills become as one will, that each may furnish the other with help, strength, and energy to support their personal trials and fulfill their part in the grand work of bringing up a family to serve God, our Lord.

Man is not the slave of his passions; he has, to a large extent, the power to master them, to direct them by his intelligence, and subject them to serve a proper end; and from the empire he exercises over them, his moral dignity arises. Should he abdicate his sovereignty in favour of his passions, shame is his portion; and his conscience, fallen from its estate, becomes debased, degraded. Materialists have striven mightily to force upon our observation the evidence of their animal origin. They would have experienced less difficulty in proving that their principles-if carried to a logical conclusion-would reduce morality to a meaningless word, and that the best amongst them, even as the worst, had not yet passed the animal stage.

If man were merely matter, all his functions would be organic; they would belong to one and the same order. In that case it is hard to see why a man should be reckoned as foul and degraded because he yields without restraint to one of these functions rather than another. In any materialistic conception of Nature, resistance to the peremptory demands of passion-in other words, virtuous endeavour to overcome Nature-becomes an utterly senseless proceeding. As for you, brethren, who have kept in your hearts a loyal regard for the laws of Christ and of Christian morality, you confess that it is your honourable duty to resist heartily the tyranny of passion; and you will acknowledge and proclaim, without boastfulness, but without faltering, that those who allow themselves to become thralls to vice or slaves to selfishness, who seize the joys of conjugal intercourse and refuse obedience to the laws which govern the reproduction of life-such as these are rebels against God and the Gospel of His Christ; they are false to all that gives a man the dignity that should be his.

Catholic husbands and wives, make an end, I beg you, of reading, or allowing your imagination to batten on, the unwholesome literature to be found in the modern novel, the newspaper, the problem-play, where morality is made of no account, where man and woman seek for and find one another solely for purposes of pleasure, and where greed and vice supply the motive for everything that is done. Banish from your sight those dramas in which, under pretext of showing you life as it is, the playwrights present you with what they rake from the sewers. Vicious characters-men and women- stalk the boards, made attractive by all the arts of their willing creators; meanwhile honesty and decency provide a dull and uninteresting background. And, by these manoeuvres a certain plausibility is given to the view that morality is really quite impracticable, and that the impossibility of being honestly good offers God’s creatures only the alternative of becoming libertines or hypocrites!

As a matter of fact, the loose principles imbibed from modern literature and the stage prove excellent foils for the teachings of Christianity. We have here a study in contrasts, by which no little emphasis and light are thrown on Catholic doctrine. For the romantic and dramatic literature of which I speak knows only one type of man-the proud man, the selfsufficient man, the man who gives rein to his passions, as might any haughty pagan. And in the end this literature arrives at the conclusion that continence and self-restraint are simply impossible.

But Christianity is equally aware of the frailty of the human heart, and when she lays her commands upon a man, she at the same time points out to him and provides for him the means he shall use to overcome his weakness. The austere law of self-abnegation and prayer to God applies to every one-priest and layman, man and woman, married and unmarried. To every one, none excepted, our Divine Saviour has said: “If any man will come after Me, let him deny himself and take up his cross daily, and follow Me.” (Luke ix. 23). And again, “Every one of you that doth not renounce all that he possesseth cannot be My disciple” (Luke xiv. 33).

Even in marriage husbands and wives must place restraint upon their inclinations. Every husband should have that respect and regard for the constitution of his wife which prudence and delicate consideration demand; for a day may come when the necessity of preserving the health of one or the other will place an obstacle between them- even, it may be, for a considerable time. What attention, think you, are they likely to pay to this obstacle, if the very elements of self-restraint are lacking to them? Everybody knows well that temperance and sobriety place a definite limit to eating and drinking. Conjugal chastity is the more necessary inasmuch as the impulses it arouses and regulates are more blindly imperious. And you must not exclaim that I ask of you that which is impossible.

St. Augustine will tell you, in words the Council of Trent thought well to repeat, that God never asks the impossible, but He expects that, having done what in you lies, you should call in His grace to help your insufficiency. One of the effects of the sacramental grace received in marriage is to prepare the husband and wife for the most trying hours in their married life-for the times when the spirit indeed is willing but the flesh very frail.

Husbands, Christian men, you do desire, honestly and sincerely, to remain unswervingly faithful, do you not? Ask God then-ask Him every day of your lives-to give you the courage that never fails. And you, Christian wives, are you afraid of the dangers of motherhood? Those dangers are not so great as many are pleased to assert. But if, as may happen in exceptional circumstances, a surgeon must be called in, well, modern surgery is such that you may place the greatest confidence in it; for it is an established fact that nowadays a good operator saves the mother’s life in 95 percent of the cases submitted to him. And yet, small as it may be, the danger of an operation calls for a courage that can only be assured to you by prayer and trust in Him to whose everlasting arms you have committed yourselves.

Husbands and wives, remember your heavenly origin, your immortal destiny. Leave to those in whose eyes marriage is nothing more than a union of which sensual pleasure is the sole end, the degrading idea that passion is sovereign, indomitable, lawful at all times. You must ascend to higher ideals. Let your marriage be a real union of your bodies and your souls; let your joys be sober and moderate. But see well to it that you do not seek those joys for themselves alone, nor apart from the fulfilment of the conditions which Nature has established for the foundation of the family. I fully appreciate, my dear brethren, your state of mind on this subject. You have no desire to ignore either self-restraint or the mutual respect imposed upon you by the dignity of conjugal life and the primary end of marriage. But should any one remind you of the mandate God gave in the beginning-”increase and multiply”-you gaze round you in dismay, measuring the harsh conditions of life as you find it-the tyrannous demands of custom, convention, and fashion; you peer into the future, fearfully wondering how your children, if they become more numerous, are to succeed in keeping that place in society which, with most justifiable pride, you occupy yourselves. “Who,” you ask in your anxiety, “says it is your duty to lower the social position of our children? And if continence is beyond our strength, can you blame us for using our marriage rights and evading the natural result-the birth of children?”

Well, if you are in easy circumstances, who have a modest competence, or you who have amassed, it may be, a fortune more or less considerable, if you are warranted in using language of this sort, what might we not expect from the humble workingman who carries on a hand-to-mouth existence on scanty pay? What might not be said-and with far greater justice than in your case-by the toiler of the fields or the factory hand, who labour, labour unremittingly, and for all that hardly know what it means to have something laid by for a rainy day, or to regard the future without misgiving? Believe me, I understand your anxieties to the full. I will even add that, given the strong undercurrent of selfindulgence that is traversing the social body, given the narrow, the “middle-class” ideas which many people select as the goal and guiding-star of their lives, and consequently of the preparation by which they endeavour to shape their children’s careers-given these things, then your anxieties need no explanation. In fact, they would be justified, were the reasoning which inspires them anything but false and unfounded.

Not very long ago-certainly since 1880-Bebel, a well-known socialist leader in Germany, described as “repugnant” the manoeuvres of married people who satisfy their sensual appetites, but with deliberate selfishness take measures to prevent the birth of children. Nowadays, forgetfulness of Christian morality joined to the flourishing condition of what is called, by a strange contradiction, the morality of selfishness, and the direct encouragement given-here openly, there in secret-by the “liberal” economists of last century and by numerous socialist journals of today-all these tend to weaken our conception of the binding nature of conjugal duty, and incline parents to adopt a lower view than they should of the grandeur and importance, both social and religious, of the education of their children.

Imperceptibly, the most dastardly practices seem less loathsome, less worthy of blame; and if you, dear Christian parents, do not decide to offer a resistance of the utmost vigour, you will live to see crime installed-a not unwelcome guest-in your inmost homes. Vice, moreover, has a tendency to turn to its own advantage the unwholesome favour of public opinion; and it is nothing unusual for decent married folk to find themselves exposed sometimes to the galling commiseration of people who seem to have forgotten that duty comes before the follies of luxury, fashion, and the pursuit of comfort, sometimes to the malicious sneers of renegades who esteem themselves smart because they have thrown over the dignity of home life: and this because these good, decent people have loyally done their duty, regardless of the uncertainties of the future. Of a similar description is the fact that when certain parents discuss the conditions of the marriage contract in presence of their children, selfish speculation disguises itself in the cloak of prudence in order to impose shameful limits or compromises on the generous whole-souled integrity of the young couple. Well, dear parents, these speculations-as bad as they are apparently good-rest on one and the same great fundamental error. You forget, you misapprehend what you owe your children. No one is likely to blame you because, being sixty years old and weary after a life of toil, you desire the restful security and ease to be found in your possessions, moderate or large. But your children, fifteen or twenty years old, on the threshold of life with its struggles and straits- what have they to do with restful ease? What they want is confidence and energy. Give it them: give them force; give them buoyant courage, give them fearlessness.

Teach them that their social duty is to produce before they consume. They must not, being young, examine the possibility and conceive in secret the hope of profiting by the savings which your death will place in their hands- and all without their lifting a finger. No; they must feel the prick of necessity. And therefore you must not think you are acting wisely in urging your children to rest content with that place on the social ladder which your energy and thrift have helped you to attain.

You must teach them that the point they start from is of small importance. That which really matters is the point at which they arrive. The most lamentable service parents can render their children is to exempt them-not from the law of labour, because that is superior to their wills, but from the necessity of labour, without which can be formed neither strong characters nor a hardy people.

Brethren, have you forgotten your catechism? Sloth is one of the seven capital sins: that is, it is one of the poisoned sinks from which all other vices may flow. You would like your daughters to have such dowries as would remove the idea of their being sought after simply for themselves-for their beauty-of body, mind, and character-for their fitness to become mothers and to assume successfully a mother’s duties. It were far better for them that they should never marry than that they should be delivered up, innocent victims, to the pleasures of rakes and rufflers, who, after a tempestuous youth, are conscious of an attenuated inclination to reform, though in point of fact they are only yielding-unwittingly, it may be-to an imperative desire of bodily comfort and enjoyment without unpleasant aftermath.

Again, you would like each of your sons to step into an established position, protected from all risk, thus depriving them of every incentive to healthy and fruitful initiative, and procuring them a ready—made success they have done nothing to earn. Now can you not see that instead of educating them, that is, instead of helping or compelling them to make the most of the resources Nature has given them-their brains, their will, their muscles-you are only pandering to their conceit and their laziness, and assisting the incubation, in the hearts of the children you love, and in whom it is your ambition to see your second selves, of the worst instincts of the human beast? Have you never heard the malediction hurled at the sluggard by St. Paul, the most splendid intrepid pioneer of Christian civilization: “ Si quis non vult operari, nec manducet”—“If any man will not work, neither let him eat” (2 Thess. iii. 10)?

Quite recently a careful observer of contemporary conditions mentioned, in our presence, a club where young men squander in gambling or vapid and pointless babble as much of their time as is not wasted on sport or the theatre or worse amusements: and, alluding to the catastrophe which overwhelmed Messina, he added, “Should that club suddenly collapse, and should those who haunt it cease to cumber the ground, Belgium would not be a penny the worse, and industry, politics, science, and art would go on exactly as they did before.” Is it not shameful that, instead of setting a good example-as, in their position, they ought to do-these young fellows prefer to provide matter for caustic remarks such as I have just quoted?

In splendid contrast to these scurvy specimens are those families among the aristocracy and the middle and labouring classes where numerous children, like olive branches, surround, with a large and vigorous crown, the parent stem from which they spring, filling the home with life, movement, and the light of joy: where the warmth of filial and brotherly love prevents the parents thoughts from dwelling too insistently on the difficulties and trials inseparable from human existence, and gives them promise of an honoured age, knowing neither loneliness nor abandonment.

Tell me, is there a finer sight in this world, is there anything more comforting, more worthy of our deep respect than one of those families, still numerous-God be thanked!-in the midst of our good people, and especially so among the working classes; families where six, eight, ten, and more children grow, develop, and take shape in the school of labour, aye, even in the sterner school of privation and sacrifice? Those are the workshops where strength and energy are forged, where character is stamped upon a man. “Where I inspect those who are ascending the social ladder and those coming down, I observe that the former wear clogs and the latter patentleather shoes”: so says Paul Leroy Beaulieu, an economist of the highest authority.

Now, of course, I am quite aware, dear fellow-workmen, that all your sons are not going to climb the social ladder. I should be sorry indeed if you desired them all to make their fortunes in the city. No, many will remain with you in the village where they were born. But the very congestion in your home will drive some of its members to join the swarming hives where industrial activity is concentrated. There, as the rush of newcomers becomes greater, the inventive spirit becomes keener, machinery more perfect; the products of the earth are exploited with more knowledge and greater thoroughness, and business openings are sought for more fiercely. Thus by reason of the very condensation of town population, industrial and commercial progress has been greatly accelerated.

Now who is the best equipped and therefore the most likely to succeed in this economic turmoil? It is the young man who comes of a large family. Broken to a life of toil from his youth, schooled to endurance, endowed with a character softened and sweetened by the gentle friction of family life, and possessing a will, strong but well controlled, he has in his own hands the makings of a fine career; and when the spirit of Christ is at work in a family, the older children become the watchful guardians of the little ones, the strong ones assist the more intelligent to rise in their profession. Each one recognizes the obligation of helping the other, and through this mutual help the bonds of family love are drawn tighter and tighter, while the parents contemplate with pride the fruits of their years of toil, and cherish the hope of an old age spent in honour and placid security. I know well that there is another side to this genial picture, and I have not the slightest intention of blinking the fact that if you look for dark patches, you will find them. By bringing up a large family, you do not necessarily attain success there and then, but you undoubtedly pave the way to it.

The struggle is hard, but excellent in its results. For while the children are very young, when one follows closely upon another, the parents may find life very distressing, and a brief stoppage of the daily wage through unemployment, or the descent of sickness upon the home, may plunge them in a sea of grinding hardship and bitter sorrow. That this is the truth nobody denies, and nobody, as far as I know, has yet discovered how suffering is to be done away with. But mark the difference. The working man who has only one or two children is very likely to see them leave home on the first opportunity, spend their wages in the public-house or some other similar resort, and brutally deny their parents, in their age or infirmity, that pittance which law and decency alike demand of them. But the father and mother who have brought up many children in the faith of Christ possess, in the thews and sinews of each of their children, a capital well invested, and by placing them under the happy necessity of employing their abilities, they augment the resources of the family and compel its members to essay the task of self-development with greater energy, patience and love.

Should some unlooked-for crisis arise for one of these numerous families, then the public authorities must come to the rescue, and in their default, private charity must fill the breach. The theories concerning the equality of individuals extolled by the French Revolution have not quite lost their hold upon us as yet. Our social legislation is excellent as far as it goes, but it does not go far enough. We must endeavour to grasp more firmly the idea that in the composition of the social body, the organic unit is the family, not the individual; consequently we must make it our business to secure, as far as we can, a more equitable distribution of taxation so that less shall be asked of those who have many children, and more-to balance matters- of those who have not had the generosity and courage to furnish more citizens to the general society.

I spoke of private charity just now, and I quite expect to be howled down by such as court favour and popularity with the masses. They will tell you that the receipt of charity is degrading to the people. That, my brethren, is transparent nonsense, and unworthy your consideration. That a man should beg when he could live on his pay, if he were minded to work-that is degradation if you like! But our Divine Master has said-what everybody recognizes as a fact-” the poor you have always with you.” And there are poor, unfortunate folk who, in spite of their good will and honest efforts, are altogether-or for the time being-unable to support themselves and their families.

For such as these you demand compulsory assistance and old age pensions. Excellent! There I am heartily with you. But will you please explain to me in what precise respect the charity contributed by the taxpayer-with very great reluctance perhaps-carries less dishonour in its train than the help given with spontaneous delicacy by a neighbour or a friend? Charity is in a sense humiliating, because it is the badge of dependence, and no man likes to be dependent. But when given in the right place, there is no dishonour attached to it. Just consider for one moment, and you will observe that charity is given and received on every side of you. The young student gets his bursary, the artisan gets his bonus, the scholar has his travelling expenses paid, the man of letters receives an allowance to facilitate the production of some work of literary or scientific interest.

Now we must make every effort to restore to people’s mind a correct notion of what genuine Christian charity really is. But more-we must practise it, spurring ourselves on by the remembrance that Our Lord, the better to teach us the grandeur of this virtue, deigned to identify Himself with the hungry, the thirsty and the sick: “Whatever ye do to the least of these My brethren, ye do it unto Me.” Even if it be true that the consciousness of dependence brings with it a certain measure of humiliation, what of that? A man is none the worse for it. Rather is he the better; for, like pain and sorrow, humiliation, if borne in patience, plays its own part in aman’s education and gives him the strength to endure. If then, my brethren, God has blessed your union with children, cast no envious glance, at those whose homes are empty-rather look with pity on the unions which are barren either through misfortune or deliberate crime. Give your boundless respect and praise and encouragement to those parents, whether rich or poor, who have sufficient reliance upon God and upon themselves to provide us with a plentiful generation, a numerous family which is today, or will be tomorrow, their crown of honour and worth. Their generosity and courage furnish our country with men of energy and character, men destined to fill high places in council or to stand in the forefront of battle; destined, in fine, to occupy the situations abandoned by sterile voluptuaries who never moved a finger to gain the wealth they most unworthily possess. From these families will arise, we may well hope, hardy colonists for our lands overseas; and to them the Church will look, and not in vain, for priests, missionaries, and apostles to renew and keep alive unfailingly the forces of religion and charity.

God’s blessing on the union of our first parents- “increase and multiply”-is no empty form of words; neither is it a snare to the unwary. The Church does not flatter only to deceive with a vain and illusory dream, when she calls down upon the bride the blessing of fruitfulness, and desires that as parents she and her husband should see a plenteous seed, their children and their children’s children even to the third and fourth generation. And here again, to take a wider outlook, the Catholic Church possesses, in her moral teaching, the principles which will solve one of the gravest questions in social economy. I speak of that problem which has for its object the accommodation of increasing population with the limited productivity of the soil. As a solution of this difficulty, the apostles of neo-Malthusian doctrines who also practise what they preach-enthusiastically proclaim the voluntary restriction of childbirth, and in compensation they offer you the satisfaction of sense in defiance of nature.

There you have the theory of static sterility, the harbinger, the forerunner of utter ruin to peoples that are base enough to carry it out in practice. In the fourth century before the Christian era, Greece was unequalled, in the splendour of her civilization, by any other nation; but after her leaders of thought-even Plato and Aristotle-had preached sterility as a remedy for possible difficulties in the future, there fell upon the land a scarcity of men, as contemporary writers tell us, and in the second century Greece lost her independence, because there were no soldiers to confront the Roman arms. And what was true of Greece, was true of Rome under the Empire. Voluntary sterility dried up the well-springs of the city’s life, and the disruption of the Empire speedily ensued. In France, at the present moment, men who love their country are sounding the alarm. Listen to this statement recently uttered before a distinguished audience by M. de Foville, the French economist: “About the year 1850 the territory now occupied by the German Empire contained the same number of inhabitants as France. We were on equal terms. In 1895 Germany had the advantage of us by some six millions, and in 1908 the excess reached twenty millions. Thirty-nine millions on one side, on the other sixty millions odd. If matters proceed at this rate, in twenty years time there will be two Germans to one Frenchman-always supposing of course that France is not absorbed by Germany in the meantime.”

Even if we assume that immigration would fill up the empty spaces left by this depopulation, what then? The result would be that France would lose every national characteristic, and give place to some strange, mongrel cosmopolitan mixture in which the fine qualities of the race would run vast risk of disappearance.

There is only one doctrine that makes for progress, and that is Christian morality, combined with conjugal duty and integrity. On individuals and families alike it enjoins the necessity of patient and persevering toil. It encourages fruitful initiative and effort; it pours blessings upon large families where initiative and effort bud and blossom. It condemns most utterly the pleasures that consume and do not produce. To all peoples it repeats with unwearying iteration the words of Scripture: “Increase ye and multiply: go forth upon the earth and fill it.”

The world is wide enough to contain and support the swelling generations of the children of men, but it does not yield up its treasures overwillingly-they must be wrested from it by main force. The earth is not a heap of treasure, which men may share among themselves in such sort that each one’s portion should increase according as the number who ought to have a share grows less. No; but the treasure grows greater in proportion to the spirit, the ability, the courage of those who do battle to acquire it. Man’s life is a relentless warfare-”militia est vita hominis super terram” (Job vii. 1)-and civilization is the fruit, progress the reward of conquest.

There you have the teaching of Christian morality to the family and the nation, and beyond all else, it recalls to us in every page of the Gospel, the theme on which our Saviour based His first sublime Sermon on the Mount. Forget not that you are here upon earth only to leave it. Life for you is no more than a pathway, beset with thorns and brambles, to your abiding city, Paradise. If, as you trudge along it, anxiety and disappointment should bear heavily upon you, then raise your eyes to Him: for in heaven you have a Providence fatherly, wise, and strong to watch over you and keep your steps that they stumble not.” Therefore I say to you, be not solicitous for your life, what you shall eat, nor for your body what you shall put on. Behold the birds of the air, for they sow not, neither do they reap, nor gather into barns, and your heavenly Father feedeth them. Are not you of much more value than they? And which of you by taking thought, can add to his stature one cubit?

And for raiment why are you solicitous? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow: they labour not, neither do they spin. But I say to you that not even Solomon in all his glory was arrayed as one of these. And if the grass of the field, which is today and tomorrow is cast into the oven, God doth so clothe: how much more you, O ye of little faith? Be not solicitous therefore, saying What shall we eat, or what shall we drink, or wherewith shall we be clothed? For after all these things do the heathen seek. For your Father knoweth that you have need of all these things. Seek ye therefore first the kingdom of God and His justice, and all these things shall be added unto you” (St. Matt. vi. 25—33).

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The Early British Church

REV. GERARD CULKIN

INDEX

The Christian Church was first established in these islands when Britain was still a province of the Roman Empire. The claim is sometimes made by Anglicans that this ancient British Church was the ancestor of the present Church of England, and accordingly they maintain that they alone are the true Catholic Church in this country. This claim is quite unfounded. The early British Church was not a national and independent body, like the modern Church of England, but was simply that part of the one Catholic Church which was established in Britain. The first British Christians professed the same faith as the rest of the Catholic Church. With Christians everywhere they acknowledged the Pope, the Bishop of Rome, as Head of the Church in succession to St Peter. That this was so is proved clearly enough by the history of the relations between the Church in Britain and the Roman See in these early days, and by such evidence as we have about the faith and practice of these first British Christians.

II

THE EARLY BRITISH CHURCH AND THE SEE OF ROME

We know very little about the origins of the Church in Britain. There are many legends about its early history, but no reliable evidence about its first foundation. The first Christians in Britain were probably to be found among the soldiers who garrisoned the country after it was conquered by the Romans in the first century of our era, or among the traders from the lands about the Mediterranean who came here at that time. We first hear of the Church in Britain from Tertullian, an African who wrote about the end of the second century, but he tells us no more than the bare fact, that there were Christians in Britain in his time. There is a reliable tradition that some British Christians were put to death for their faith about a hundred years later. The best known among them is St Alban, but we know little about him beyond the simple fact that he died as a martyr. The British Church first appears in the records of history in the year 314, when three bishops from this country were present at a council held at Arles in the south of France. During the rest of this century bishops from Britain were present at other ecclesiastical councils, showing that the British Church was in no way isolated but was in active communion with the rest of the Church in the Empire. In the first part of the fifth century there is evidence which seems to indicate that the Church in Britain was rapidly expanding. Then came disaster. The city of Rome itself was threatened by the attacks of barbarian invaders from the East. The Roman garrison was withdrawn from Britain. The country was defenceless, and soon it was in its turn invaded and occupied by the Anglo-Saxons, the ancestors of the English people. The British Christians were driven from their homes and sought refuge in the hills and the waste places of the west, in Wales and Strathclyde and Cornwall. In the rest of the country, as far as we can discover, the Church simply ceased to exist. Not until the Roman monk Augustine landed in Kent nearly a hundred and fifty years later, in 597, did the conversion of the pagan Anglo-Saxons begin. For all this time the conquered British were cut off from the rest of the Christian world, and this enforced isolation was to have at least one unfortunate consequence. But this temporary separation from the rest of the Catholic Church was not of their seeking.

One of the results of this great disaster was that most of the records of the early Church in Britain perished, and in consequence we know very little indeed about its history. But there is enough evidence to show beyond all doubt that for more than a hundred years the British Christians were in active communion with the rest of the Catholic Church in the Roman Empire.

We have already seen that there were three bishops from Britain present at the Council of Arles in the year 341. At this council, which was summoned by the Emperor Constantine to deal with the heresy of the African Donatists, there were present bishops from all parts of the Western Empire. It is significant that from its first appearance in historical records, the British Church appears not as an isolated unit, nor as a national or independent church, but as actively cooperating with other parts of the Church in defence of the common Catholic faith. The bishops at Arles clearly recognized that the decisions they made there would have to be approved by the Pope if they were to be accepted by the rest of the Catholic world. We know little enough of what went on at the council, but when it was over the bishops wrote to Pope Sylvester, whose legates had been present at their meetings, to tell him that they had acted “as though you yourself were present,” and asking him, “according to custom.” to send letters to all the churches to inform them of the decisions taken at Arles. Thus, as a recent Anglican historian has remarked, the bishops of the council, and the British bishops among them, clearly acknowledged a right of the Pope “to give a decisive opinion on disputed questions of doctrine and discipline.” (1)

For the next hundred and fifty years the Christian faith was under constant attack from heretics. It was to defend the faith against these attacks that the first great ecclesiastical councils were held at this time. Ten years after Arles came the first of the ecumenical councils, held at Nicea to deal with the heretic Arius who denied that Christ was the Son of God. It is not certain that British bishops were present at Nicea, but the decrees of the council were received by the Church in Britain. And the British Church was represented at the later councils of Sardica, in 343, and Rimini, in 359. This great movement in defence of orthodoxy was, at least in its later stages, largely directed and controlled by the Roman See, acting as the Head of the Church and clearly recognized as such throughout the Catholic world. As a result, bishops from both East and West turned increasingly to Rome at this time for decisions on disputed points of doctrine and discipline, and readily accepted the judgments of that See. In the year 404, Victricius, the Bishop of Rouen, wrote to Pope Innocent I asking him for “the rule and authority of the Roman Church” on some disputed questions. In his reply, the Pope emphasized that his ruling was one which every Catholic bishop was bound to observe “in consideration of the divine judgment.” It is possible that Victricius was himself a Briton. It is quite certain that some years earlier he had been asked by the bishops in Britain to settle some serious differences which had arisen there. It seems evident that he was regarded by the British bishops as a pattern of orthodoxy, and it seems clear that they shared his faith in this matter of the Pope’s supreme authority as in everything else! (2)

ST GERMANUS AND THE PELAGIANS

That the Church in Britain did wholeheartedly accept the authority of the Bishop of Rome at this time is conclusively proved by two other incidents which occurred some years later. In the year 421 the teachings of the heretic Pelagius, who was either a Briton or an Irishman, were condemned at Rome. Within a year or so some of his followers appeared in Britain and began to spread his doctrines there. “Characteristically,” say the authors of the standard work on the history of Roman Britain, “the Britons appealed to the Pope for help against this invasion.” (3) The Pope, Celestine I, sent to Britain as his own representative-”vice sua”-Germanus, the Bishop of Auxerre. Germanus was successful in his mission and brought back to the Catholic faith many who had been led astray by the teaching of the Pelagians. This first mission lasted from 429 to 431. Some years later the heresy revived, and Germanus was invited to Britain a second time, in 446–7, bringing with him Severus who was probably the Bishop of Treves. The incident is evidence both of the close relations between Britain and Rome and of the complete unity of faith between the churches in Britain and Gaul. The memory of Germanus was long honoured among the British Christians; both St Patrick, the apostle of Ireland, and St Illtud, the first great figure in the British Church in Wales, were taught by Germanus at Auxerre. The great authority of Germanus in this country was certainly due in large part to the fact that he was sent here by the Pope himself, and the honour done to his memory reflects the loyalty of the Church in Britain to the See of Peter. (4)

Some years later, in the time of Pope St Leo the Great, 440–461, a new ruling was sent out from Rome about the date on which the Easter festival was to be celebrated. By this time the Roman Empire was already disorganized by the barbarian invasions, communications were difficult, and it was some considerable time before the news of the Pope’s decision reached Britain. But as soon as it was known there it was at once obeyed.” (5).

This is the last we hear of relations between the Church in Britain and the Roman See for a century and a half. As a result of the invasions and the collapse of the Empire all contact with the Church abroad ceased until the coming of St

1. T. Jailand. The Church and the Papacy, London, 1946, p. 197. 2. Mansi, Concilia, III, 1032; cf. L. Gougaud. Christianity in Celtic Lands, London, 1932, p. 22. 3. R. G. Collingwood and J. N. L. Myres, Roman Britain and the English Land Settlements, 2nd ed., Oxford, 1937, p. 312. 4. On Pelagianism and the missions of St Germanus, cf. Gougaud, op. cit. pp. 23–26. 5. L. Gougaud. op. cit p. 211.

Augustine in the year 597. These few facts then are all that we know of the relations between the first British Christians and the papacy from the first establishment of the Church in this country until nearly the end of the sixth century. The evidence is scanty indeed, but it is clear enough and can admit of only one conclusion. Far from being a separate unit, with a distinctive doctrine or discipline, the Church in Britain throughout this time appears as simply a part of the one Catholic Church. Its bishops unite with the bishops of other lands in defence of their common Catholic Faith. If they are in difficulties the bishops in Britain appeal to their brethren abroad for advice and help. In cases of special difficulty they turn, as other bishops turn, to Rome. If the Pope issues an instruction or a command, it is obeyed in Britain as it is obeyed elsewhere, because the British Church recognizes the Pope as the Head of the Universal Church. Nowhere in the history of the Church in Britain at this time is there even a shred of evidence that British Christians resented this exercise of papal authority as an intrusion, or ever claimed the right to settle their own affairs in their own way.

THE CELTIC CHURCHES AND ROME

All that has been said of the relations between the British Church and the Roman See at this time is equally true of the other early Christian communities in these islands, the so-called Celtic Churches.

The faith was first preached in what is now Scotland by St Ninian, early in the fifth century. We know little about him. He was probably a Briton, but it was at Rome that he was instructed in the faith before setting out on his mission, and as a recent non-Catholic author has indicated, there is no doubt that he was a “Roman” Catholic. (6)

In the year 431, Pope Celestine I consecrated a certain Palladius and sent him to Ireland as the first bishop of that country. He was soon followed by St Patrick, who was a Briton, and who, after completing the conversion of the greater part of the country instructed his priests that if any difficulty should arise which they could not settle among themselves, they were to refer the matter to “the Apostolic See” in Rome. (7) The Irish monks, some of whom settled at Iona, off the west coast of Scotland, in the course of the sixth century, and from there sent out missionaries to northern England, and others, led by the great St Columban, who preached the gospel in Gaul, were equally clear about the authority of the Roman See. St Columban called the Pope “the pastor of pastors,” and “the head of the churches in Europe,” and called on him as the guardian of the faith to condemn the practices of some of the clergy in Gaul whom he regarded as schismatics. (8) Since they were founded at a time when, owing to the invasions, communication with the rest of the Church was always difficult and sometimes impossible, all these Celtic churches tended to develop certain customs which differed from Roman practice. For example, the Celtic monks wore a different tonsure, there were some variations in their manner of administering baptism and in the date on which the Easter festival was observed. But all these differences were in secondary matters. None of these communities held any distinctive doctrine, or made any claim to be an independent church. We may apply to each of these Christian communities what a leading authority has said of the British Church during the years of its isolation: that, in spite of this isolation, “it never ceased to be Catholic in doctrine and to acknowledge the spiritual supremacy of the successors of St Peter” (9). For the Celts and the British, as for Christians everywhere, to have attempted to repudiate the authority of the See of Rome would have been to cut themselves off from the unity of the one Catholic Church.

ST AUGUSTINE AND THE BRITISH CHURCH

The argument of those Protestant apologists who claim that this early British Church was in some way a national Church like the modern Church of England, owing no allegiance to Rome and rejecting the papal claims, rests on a single incident only. A year or two after the beginning of his mission to England in 597. St Augustine, following the instructions of Pope Gregory, had two meetings with the British bishops. He appealed to them to co-operate with him in the work of converting the Anglo-Saxons. After some hesitation, and on the occasion of the second meeting, they

6. W. D. Maxwell, A History of Worship in the Church of Scotland, Oxford, 1955, pp. 1–10.

7. The Book of Armagh, ed. J. Gwynn, Dublin, 1913, p. 42: cf. Gougaud, p. 213, n. 7.

8. L. Gougaud, op. cit., p. 215.

9. S. J. Crawford, Anglo-Saxon Influence on Western Christendom, Oxford, 1933, p. 9. refused: and this refusal has been taken as an indication that they regarded the Pope as having no authority over them. This difference between the Roman missionaries and the British bishops was real enough, and was to have serious consequences: but, as will be seen, it admits of a very different interpretation to that put forward by Protestant controversialists.

It was in the year 596 that the Pope, Gregory the Great, who had long been concerned about the conversion of the pagan Anglo-Saxons, sent the Roman monk Augustine with forty companions to preach the gospel to the people of Kent. In the first year of his mission St Augustine baptized Aethelbert, the King of Kent, and several thousands of his people. The way seemed open to the conversion of the other English kingdoms also. Gregory had told Augustine that he mustseek the help of the British Church in this task. There was obviously no suspicion in the Pope’s mind that, as Christians, the British were any different to Christians in any other country. But when Augustine finally succeeded in meeting the British bishops, they refused to have anything to do with him. According to St Bede, who tells the story, (10). they were unfavourably impressed by what appeared to them to be his high-handed manner and haughty bearing. As a result, they took no part in the subsequent conversion of the English peoples, and indeed for more than a century they held themselves aloof from all contact with the Christian English.

On this single incident there has been built up the legend of an independent British Church which refused to acknowledge the authority of the See of Rome. What does it all amount to?

In the first place, in so far as we have any record, the British bishops did not on this occasion of their meeting with Augustine refuse to obey an authoritative ruling from Rome, since no such ruling was presented to them. Neither then nor, as far as we know, subsequently, was the doctrine of papal authority in question. In fact, there was no discussion concerning doctrine between Augustine and the British clergy, and no difference in any matter which touched the Catholic faith. They simply refused to work with him in what, according to the mind of the Pope, was to have been a common missionary undertaking. This refusal, which was, surely, little to their credit as Christians, is sufficiently explained, if not excused, by their hatred of their conquerors; and to this, no doubt, they added some suspicion of Augustine himself, who was known to have been well received at the court of Aethelbert. The dispute between the two parties, if such it can be called, was perhaps further exaggerated by the fact that the British now followed certain customs in which they differed from continental practice. These peculiar customs are sufficiently explained by the long isolation, lasting nearly a century and a half, in which they had been living. In any case, Augustine told the bishops explicitly that if they would follow the rest of the Church in the manner of administering baptism and the date of Easter they could continue to keep the rest of their local customs, (11). provided only that they would work with him. But they persisted in their refusal.

WAS THERE A SCHISM?

Yet the fact of their continued isolation for more than a century is still to be explained; for it is clear that for long after the time of Augustine the British Christians continued to go their own way, and were not in active communion with the other Christian communities in the country.

Was there then a schism in the country? All that we can say is that there is no evidence that the leaders of the British Church-which had, as we have seen, earlier given clear proof of its loyalty to the Roman See-ever formally repudiated the authority of the Pope; nor is there any evidence that they were ever formally condemned for their obstinacy. All that we know for certain is that in the course of the next century the Celtic and British communities one by one submitted of their own accord to Roman discipline. The Celts of Northumbria were the first to do so at the Synod of Whitby in 663, after the great St Wilfrid had ably expounded the basis of the Roman claims in the promise of Christ to St Peter. (12). They were later followed by their brethren in Iona and Ireland. The Britons of Strathclyde were next, early in the seventh century. (13). A few years later, Aldhelm, Bishop of Sherborne, c. 640–709, wrote to 10. Bede, Ecclesiastical History, Book 1I, Chap. 2.

11. The British were in fact still observing the ruling on Easter which they had received from Pope Leo! 12. Bede. Ecclesiastical History, Book III, Chap. 25. Colman and some of the monks from Lindisfarne did not submit at this time. They withdrew to Iona and later to Ireland.

13. L. Gougaud. op. cit., pp. 185–210. the British Christians of Cornwall appealing to them to abandon their foolish isolation. In a letter to their king he said: “It is utterly vain for those who reject the doctrine and the rule of St Peter to boast of their Catholicism.” (14). Aldhelm’s warning seems to have had its effect, for shortly afterwards most of the Cornish people accepted the Roman practices which they had so long resisted. The last to submit were the Britons in Wales. Their submission can best bedescribed in the words of a leading authority on early Welsh history, Professor J. E. Lloyd. He writes: “It was not until 768 that Bishop Elfodd induced his countrymen to abandon the attitude of hopeless isolation, and, by accepting the Roman Easter, to enter into communion with the churches of the West. Henceforth the loyalty of the Welsh to the See of Peter is not in question; their church had many peculiarities, the result of their previous history, but these were not challenged by the Papal power which found its commands as readily obeyed in Wales as in other western regions. (15).

What now are we to conclude from these few facts which are all that we are ever likely to know about the relations between England and Rome in these remote ages?

First of all, it is clear that up to the middle of the fifth century the Church in Britain made no claim to be independent of the rest of the Church. The British bishops showed clearly enough that they shared the common faith of the one Catholic Church throughout the world, and freely accepted the Pope, the Bishop of Rome, as the Head of the Church. Then followed a long period when, through no fault of their own, the British Christians were cut off from all contact with Rome and with the greater part of the Church on the continent. This isolation, and their resentment against their conquerors, are enough to explain the long coolness which undoubtedly existed between the descendants of the defeated Britons in Wales and elsewhere, and the now Christian peoples of England. But this separation was itself ended by the free submission of the British, a tacit if somewhat tardy admission that, in cutting themselves off from the rest of the Church in the country, they had been in error.

Nowhere do we hear of any repudiation of the authority of Rome, nor of any Roman condemnation of the British Church as schismatic. Indeed, one can say with all assurance that, had it not been for the Reformation, nothing would ever have been heard of an “independent” British Church. Until the sixteenth century, when the first Protestant Archbishop of Canterbury repudiated the Pope’s authority, and so ended the succession of St Augustine, the loyalty and obedience of the Church in England to the See of Rome was never in question.

III

THE EARLY BRITISH CHURCH AND THE EUCHARIST

There is a further and equally important point of comparison between the doctrine of the early British Church and that of the modern Church of England. In any church or community which claims the name Christian, the central point of faith and worship is to be found in the liturgy, in the celebration of the Eucharist. Now there can be no doubt that in the minds of the men who made the Reformation in England, one set of beliefs about the Eucharist was replaced by another. For the Latin Mass there was substituted a new Communion service in English. But this was more than a mere change in the form of celebration. According to the teaching of the new Book of Common Prayer, the Communion service was now no more than an act commemorating the Last Supper. The minister was instructed to take bread and wine, to bless them and give them to the people, who were told that in receiving them they should “feed on Christ” in their hearts. In other words, the traditional Catholic doctrine, that by the words of consecration the bread and wine are changed into the living Body and Blood of Jesus Christ (the doctrine of Transubstantiation), and that Christ, thus truly present on the altar under the appearances of bread and wine, in some mysterious way renews the sacrifice of the Cross, all this was now denied and done away with. And in doing away with the Mass, which they rejected as blasphemy, and with the doctrine of the Real Presence, which they regarded as no better than idolatry, the Reformers claimed that they were simply restoring the faith and practice of the early Church in this country before it was corrupted by the errors of Rome.

Is there any evidence for this assertion? To answer this question it should be sufficient to compare what can be learned from the service books of the early British Church with the doctrine taught in the Book of Common Prayer. 14. S. J. Crawford, op. cit., p. 10.

15. J. E. Lloyd, A History of Wales (Benn’s Sixpenny Series), 1930, pp. 15–16.

But unfortunately this is impossible, since none of these early British service books have been preserved. All that remains at most is a fragment which tells us what we know from other sources, that there were many liturgical variations in use in Britain, as indeed elsewhere, at this time. However, we know that the British Christians were in communion with the Celtic Christians of Ireland, Scotland and northern England: of their liturgies we have abundant evidence, and this evidence shows, beyond a shadow of doubt, that the Celts-and therefore the British-used about the Eucharist and the Mass the very same terms which the Catholic Church has used from the earliest times to our own day. So, for example, the consecrated elements are referred to quite simply as “Corpus Christi,” “the Body of Christ”. When the priestcelebrates the Eucharist he is said “to make the Body of Christ,” “Corpus Christi conficere.” The Mass is referred to as “the sacrifice”, the priest is said “to consecrate the holy oblation”, and so on. All the words used to describe what is done at the celebration of the Eucharist show clearly a full acceptance of the Catholic doctrine, that there is a substantial change in the elements at the consecration, and that the offering of the Eucharist is a true sacrifice. There is not the slightest evidence that the British Christians ever believed about the Eucharist anything but what the Catholic Church teaches today. Indeed, the evidence on this point is so overwhelming that no apologist for the Reformation, at least in recent times, has ever attempted to maintain the contrary. The author of a recent and authoritative work on Celtic Christianity, himself a stubborn defender of the alleged Celtic independence of the Holy See, is compelled by the evidence to admit, as he does very fully and frankly, that on this question of the Eucharist the doctrine of the early Church in these islands was Catholic, not Protestant. Speaking of the Celtic liturgies he says: “The terms used for the celebration of the Eucharist give abundant evidence of the belief in the sacrificial character of the rite; and of the belief also that, after the consecration, the bread becomes the Body of Christ.” (16). In spite of the varied forms of liturgical use in these islands at this time, the doctrine taught by the liturgy was always the same, and it was Catholic doctrine.

IV

CONCLUSION

We have now briefly reviewed the evidence for the alleged independence and Protestant character of the early British Church. The evidence available is, as was said at the beginning, very scanty indeed, for this was the beginning of the Dark Ages, an obscure period in our history. But for anyone who will consider the evidence without prejudice it allows of only one conclusion: the early British Christians were one in faith and practice with the universal Catholic Church, they never rejected any article of Catholic belief, and they never set themselves up as a national and independent church on the pattern of the later Protestant churches. Those who have sought to prove the contrary have done so in a vain attempt to justify that revolt against the doctrine and the authority of the Catholic Church which first occurred in England in the sixteenth century.

If further proof of this last statement is required, it can be found in the fact that, in the absence of any real historical evidence in support of their argument, some Protestant controversialists have not hesitated to manufacture the required evidence-or, in other words, to forge it. There exists a letter which is said to have been written by a certain Dinoot, the Abbot of the British Monastery of Bangor-is-Coed, to St Augustine of Canterbury. In this letter Dinoot rejects the authority of the Bishopof Rome, who, he says, wrongfully claims to be “the father of fathers”, and declares that he owes him no more than the charity and affection which he owes to all other Christians. If this letter were genuine it would indeed be an impressive witness to theexistence of an “independent” British Church; but this letter was, in fact, written not by Dinoot, but by a Welsh controversialist in the sixteenth century. (17).

THE END OF A LEGEND

It can, however, be said with assurance, that the opinions we have been discussing, all of them the result of a completely uncritical approach to the historical problem, (18). are no longer held by responsible scholars in our own day. The hoary legend of a primitive Protestant British Church has been finally disposed of by the non-Catholic 16. J. A. Duke, The Columban Church, Oxford. 1932. pp. 125–6: and ibid, pp. 164–5, for the texts quoted above. 17. L. Gougaud, op. cit., p. 215.

18. G. Williams, “Some Protestant Views of Early British History,” in History, vol. xxxviii (n.s.), p. 233. scholars who, in the last generation, have rewritten the history of the origins of the Christian Church in the British Isles. In his History of Wales, the standard work on the subject, Professor E. J. Lloyd states clearly what any impartial student of the question must now accept as a final verdict. “No theological differences,” he writes, “parted the Roman from the Celtic Church, for the notion that the latter was the home of a kind of primitive Protestantism, of apostolic purity and simplicity, is without any foundation.” (19). The same conclusion has been reached independently by other non-Catholic scholars who have made a special study of the problem. The Rev. J. C. McNaught, a Scottish minister, was for long convinced that the Celtic Church was, in fact, independent of Rome; but after studying the evidence he was compelled to revise his opinion. Hewrites: “As a result of our investigation we have come to the conclusion that the early Celtic Church, so far from being independent of Rome in the sense of repudiating the papal supremacy, was simply a part of the Catholic Church, and with the whole of the Church acknowledged the Pope as its visible head.” (20). Another non-Catholic clergyman, the Rev. S. M. Harris, was led by his study of the evidence to the same conclusion. He says: “It would be difficult today to discover any recognized authority on Celtic antiquity who would maintain either that the Celtic Churches were not in communion with the See of Rome, or that they differed from the rest of the West in their attitude towards that See, and in their conception of the position occupied by the successors of St Peter, and of the authority claimed and exercised by them. Yet, whether from ignorance or otherwise, the delusion is still sedulously fostered, especially in Anglican circles, that these Churches, even if they did not form (as one writer has asserted) “a Celtic confederation of Churches in opposition to the claims of Rome,” were at any rate non-Roman in their innocence of papal authority, and in their subsequent rejection of it.” The author then proceeds “to set forth once more the real facts of the matter, and consequently to show how fully and readily the Celtic Christians recognized the Holy See of Peter.” (21). Such statements as these need no further commentary. The alleged independence of Rome of the early British Church is a legend for which there is no foundation whatever in the records of history. 19. J. E. Lloyd, A History of Wales, 2nd ed., London, 1912, p. 173, quoted in Gougaud, p. 216.

20. J. C. McNaught. The Celtic Churches and the See of Peter, p. 106.

21. S. M. Harris, What do the Celtic Churches Say? p. 2: quoted in L. Guilly, S.J., The Early British Church

One With the Church in Rome (. . . . ), p. 5.

********

The English Reformation

L.R. GARDINER, B.A

INDEX

THE TRAGEDY OF THE ENGLISH REFORMATION

The Tragedy of the English Reformation was smaller but not simpler than that of the whole Reformation. On all sides there was spiritual endeavour, heroic effort as well as much that was short-sighted, selfish and sordid.

The three successive stages of the English Reformation were:

(i) the reign of Henry VIII (1509–47) and his son, Edward VI (1547–53), when Catholic life, doctrine and worship were first set aside;

( ii) the reign of Henry’s elder daughter, Mary (1553–58), when Catholic doctrine and worship were restored without an accompanying spiritual revival;

(iii) the reign of Henry’s younger daughter, Elizabeth I (1558–1603), when Catholic life was once more pushed underground. At Elizabeth’s death, English Catholics could work and hope for relief from persecution, but prospects of an early Catholic recovery of the English Church had disappeared.

FIVE DISTINCT STORIES IN THE ENGLISH REFORMATION

Five distinct but not altogether separate stories make up the complicated tragedy.

ROYAL POWER

Secondly, there is the ever-present foreground story of the power and prestige of reigning Kings and Queens, who were feared, flattered and fawned on as never before. The reigning King or Queen was thought to be God’s Prime Minister, whose commands had to be obeyed, and whose leadership was in fact decisive at every crisis of the English Reformation. The course of the English Reformation was changed more by a change of monarch than by a monarch’s change of mind.

AMBITIOUS LAYMEN

Firstly, there is the ever-present background story of ambitious laymen reacting strongly against the dominating influence of the clergy who ran so much of fifteenth and early sixteenth century society; the universities and education; most of the government service; all questions of business principle (defaulting business contractors could be prosecuted for perjury in church courts); and parish priests had been known to use charges of heresy as the most efficient debt collecting devices against parishioners refusing to pay their dues. Then, great wealth in the hands of the clergy induced itching fingers among laymen. Schemes for unlocking church land and using it for lay education or the relief of the poor were usually fig leaves covering naked greed.

CATHOLIC DEFICIENCY

Thirdly, there is the story of shortcomings among English Catholics. The Church does not fail, but some of its members may falter. Spiritual inadequacy was visible before the Reformation, and partly led to the Reformation. English Catholics, proud of their saints, have little reason to dwell on the fifteenth century as a century of sanctity. How many English persons who died in the fifteenth century have been canonised?

Too many clergy made a business career out of their pastoral obligations. Too many religious relaxed comfortably in their material security. The spiritual life of too many laymen seems to have been a round of devotional practices, mechanically performed. The Bible itself was not well known to laymen by direct reading, although Biblical events and characters were familiar from preaching, paintings and popular stories. No English Bible was printed before the Reformation, because the bishops feared that free reading would stimulate free doctrine. Advanced study of the Bible, the Latin Vulgate, continued on traditional lines. A revision of study methods was probably overdue. The old way had been very fruitful and was still useful, but its elaborate style made simple reading more difficult. When John Colet lectured in 1497 on St. Paul’s Epistles considered as immediate words to living men, he was thought to be a startling revolutionary in England.

PROTESTANT RELIGIOUS MOVEMENTS

Fourthly, there were the Protestant religious movements which inspired the English Reformation. Significantly, they began before the Catholic spiritual revival had any wide effect. They derived from three distinct sources.

LOLLARDY

The Lollards followed the teaching of the fourteenth-century heretic, John Wycliffe, who urged men to read and interpret the Bible for themselves. His translation, secretly studied, was used to attack the doctrine of the Holy Eucharist, and understandably frightened the bishops off freely circulating English translations of the Bible. The Lollards, mainly poor men, were more active than was earlier supposed. In the diocese of London alone between 1527 and 1532 over 200 heretics, mainly Lollards, were made to abjure their heresy. Of the 273 burned for heresy by Mary Tudor between 1555 and 1558, and commemorated in his Book of Martyrs, John Foxe gives little more than the bare names of two-thirds. Many of these may have been Lollards.

EARLY CAMBRIDGE REFORMERS

Lollard heresy was strongly reinforced intellectually by the spread of Luther’s teaching among influential Cambridge scholars. Hugh Latimer, a Cambridge don, in 1524, recalled how “from that time forward I began to smell the word of God and forsook the school doctors” (i.e., the traditional scholastic theologians) William Tyndale helped out from Oxford. His translation of the New Testament, printed in Germany in 1526, was one of the great instruments of the English Reformation. Concentrated Bible reading and Lutheran views were the main support of the Cambridge reformers. Tyndale deftly provided both at once.

Others from Cambridge were Thomas Cranmer, Archbishop of Canterbury from 1533 to 1556, whose graceful style lives in the Book of Common Prayer; Nicholas Ridley, Protestant Bishop of London, 1551–3, whose theological eminence was acknowledged by an opponent’s claim that “Latimer leaneth to Cranmer, Cranmer leaneth to Ridley, and Ridley to the singularity of his own wit”; John Bradford, scholar and preacher, whose gentleness won acclaim from Robert Persons, S.J.; John Rogers, translator and editor of “Matthew’s Bible,” issued in 1537 partly because “the dissemination of Bibles would put a stop to the religious disputes then rife in the realm”! In Bradford’s phrase, Rogers “broke the ice valiantly” as Mary Tudor’s first victim in 1555, and was attended by his “wife with her eleven children who formed the tragic little retinue at the place of execution.” These five Cambridge scholars and theologians were all burned as confirmed heretics by Mary Tudor between 1555 and 1556, By then, however, their work had been done, burned as confirmed heretics by Mary Tudor between 1555 and 1556, By then, however, their work had been done, 1600), the author of the most important Anglican apologia, intended, according to his first biographer, “to show such arguments as should force an assent from all men, if reason, delivered in sweet language, and devoid of any provocation, were able to do it.” The Catholic reader will not agree, but he will gratefully remember Hooker’s reasonableness and gentleness and his warning against narrow-minded zeal.

LATER CAMBRIDGE REFORMERS

During Elizabeth’s reign and beyond, two further waves of Cambridge reformers led the way towards a Puritan “New Jerusalem.”-Thomas Cartwright (1535–1603) and Walter Travers (c. 1548–1643) carefully constructed and “New Jerusalem.”-Thomas Cartwright (1535–1603) and Walter Travers (c. 1548–1643) carefully constructed and 88) from Oxford, brought them near, but not near enough, to success. Then followed a succession of Cambridge Puritans who concentrated more on Calvinistic religious ideas and behaviour than on Calvinistic Church organisation. Some of these were: William Whitaker (1548–95), whose portrait hung in the study of his admirer, St. Robert Bellarmine, S.J.; William Perkins (1558–1602), whose passing bell was heard with unrepentent joy by one listener whose conscience would no longer be troubled by the preaching of Perkins; William Ames (1576–1633), whose library was shipped, after his death, to a grateful colony in New England; Richard Sibbes (1577–1635), of whom one admirer wrote

“Of this blest man let this just praise be given

Heaven was in him before he was in Heaven”; and John Preston (1587–1628), who, when visiting the barber, characteristically went on reading the works of St.

Thomas Aquinas, and who would blow the falling hairs off the page and read on keenly.

It is difficult to exaggerate the influence of such “marching and counter-marching of learned doctors on the printed page” in early Puritan America and on the English Puritan Revolution in the seventeenth century.

CATHOLIC SPIRITUAL RECOVERY

Fifthly, there is the story of English Catholic spiritual recovery in the reign of Elizabeth I. This story has rarely failed to move those interested in English history.

The beginning was disappointing. In the early years of Elizabeth, Catholics in large numbers went to the Protestant Established Church. William Allen, an Oxford scholar ordained in the Netherlands in 1567, worked for a solution. He insisted on a way “to train Catholics to be plainly and openly Catholics; to be men who will always refuse every kind of spiritual commerce with heretics.”

CATHOLIC MISSIONARY MOVEMENT

Allen’s solution was to found at Douai in 1568, the first seminary to train priests “the greatest religious achievement of Elizabethan England,” Fr. Philip Hughes has said. The English Catholic religious recovery owed much to the Catholic Reformation on the continent of Europe. Douai, now in France, then in the Spanish Netherlands, lay in the heart of a religiously rejuvenated society. From Douai, Edmund Campion, in 1572, assured an English Protestant friend that “every age, rank and sex” in the Spanish Netherlands were a spiritual example “worth six hundred Protestant Englands.”

PRIEST MARTYRS

Between 1568 and 1603 hundreds of young Elizabethan Catholics flocked to the college to be trained and ordained for the dangerous duty of missionary priests. From 1574 to 1603 four hundred and thirty-eight Douai priests returned, ninety-eight of them to martyrdom. Twenty-five other martyr-priests also suffered.

Sir Richard Grenville, the hero of the fight of The Revenge, in 1591, was knighted not for his exploits at sea, but for his determination, in 1577, in capturing, and ensuring the execution of, Douai’s first martyr, Blessed Cuthbert Mayne (1543–77).

In 1580, the Society of Jesus sent two priests, Edmund Campion (1540–81), and his superior, Robert Persons (1546–1610), to join the English mission. Campion, outstanding in character and intellect, knew what to say, Persons knew how to pass on the message to Elizabethan England, just as he knew how to contact Catholics after a lonely arrival in 1580. He went straight to the chief London prison holding Catholics. Campion closed this first Jesuit mission with words at his trial and death which aroused devout response among Catholics. Elizabethan authorities who had to use perjury to convict him under the existing treason laws were also affected but with dismay at the public effect of his words.

“If our religion do make us traitors, we are worthy to be condemned; but otherwise we are, and have been, as good subjects as ever the Queen had. .”

According to William Cecil, a leading Elizabethan statesman, Campion was “one of the diamonds of England.” The setting of this diamond included distinction at Oxford, the conversion of Cuthbert Mayne, compassion for Sir Philip Sidney, “the poor wavering soul,” the friendship of William Allen, Douai’s founder, and of Gregory Martin, the first Catholic translator of the whole Bible into English.

LAY MARTYRS

The Elizabethan Catholic revival also went deep among lay people. Fifty-nine died for their faith. Blessed Margaret Clitherow (c. 1556–86), the wife of a York butcher, was converted in 1574. She made her house a centre for priests and, in order to save her family and friends from appearing as witnesses at her trial, she refused to plead guilty or not guilty. She resolutely suffered the legal penalty of being crushed to death for contempt of the law.

Blessed John Rigby, a London solicitor, martyred in 1600, readily admitted that he had been “reconciled to the Catholic Church.” His spiritual advisor, Fr. John Gerard, S.J., recollected that Rigby “had been told that it was always sinful not to confess his Catholic faith and he may not have known that it was lawful to throw the burden of proof on the prosecution, as Catholics who are wise to it do.” Rigby told his judges, more tellingly, that if the law held it treason “for a man fallen into the displeasure of God through his sins to be reconciled to God again,” then, “if this be treason, God’s will be done.”

CAMPAIGN OF SPIRITUAL READING

Dedicated missionary work and vigorous lay response were supported by a Catholic translation of the Bible and a campaign of spiritual reading. Father Gregory Martin’s translation of the New Testament appeared in translated Old Testament in 1609. These translations together gave three thousand readings to the Authorised Version of 1611. Gregory Martin, in his preface, warned that translations were not necessary, nor was indiscriminate reading without danger. His warning was perhaps excessively heeded as Bible reading did not become widely established among English Catholics. The fourth edition of this New Testament, 1633, was the last, as was the second edition of the Old Testament in 1635.

Robert Persons’ The Christian Directory (1582) has claims to be ranked with Thomas a Kempis’ Imitation of Christ (1471) and St. Francis Sales’ Introduction to the Devout Life (1609). Ironically enough, while English Protestants vilified Persons as a “lurking wolf” they pirated his spiritual message from The Christian Directory by as many as fifteen editions before Persons’ death in 1610.

THE PROGRESS OF THE ENGLISH REFORMATION 1509–53

REIGNS OF HENRY VIII AND EDWARD VI, 1509–53

The most striking Reformation development in the reign of Henry VIII (1509–47) was the denial of the Pope’s authority over the Church in England. This renunciation took place in 1533–4 and replaced the Pope’s authority by the supremacy of the King. The main motive for this change was Henry VIII’s resentment at the Pope’s failure from 1527 to annul Henry’s marriage with Catherine of Aragon so that Henry could marry Anne Boleyn. If the Pope was held to be only a bishop, like any other bishop, then Henry’s case might then be tried in England by English bishops under the vigilant eye of Henry, the Supreme Head. Indeed, after this was asserted in 1533 the six years of Papal delay were ended by English bishops in under three weeks and in Henry’s favour. This revolution in the Church won influential support amongst leading lords and gentry. Their secular and anti-Papal feelings were reinforced by gifts and sales of the property of religious houses, seized between 1536 and 1540.

OLDER VIEWS

Earlier opinion, Catholic and Protestant, deduced that Henry VIII’s Reformation was, essentially, a schism, a denial of Papal authority without further alteration of Catholic doctrine. As the disappointed reformer, John Hooper, declared, Henry VIII has destroyed the Pope, not popery. According to this view, other important religious changes were introduced only in the reign of Edward VI.

Today our understanding has been altered or enlarged in four ways.

EARLIER PROTESTANT TENDENCIES

Catholic and Protestant scholars have clearly shown that more Protestant tendencies were encouraged in Henry VIII’s reign than were once thought. We have noted that Protestant reformers were active in England from at least the 1520’s. Then in the later 1530’s and 1540’s disputes arose about the validity of some Catholic beliefs challenged by Lutherans. Prayers for the dead, Purgatory, the number of Sacraments, the purpose of good works and the meaning of Justification were some vexed issues. No sixteenth-century government could allow religious disputes to continue unchecked, as they would lead to brawls and, perhaps, to civil war when loyalty to the state meant loyalty to official religious doctrine.

Henry’s government, denying itself any appeal to the Pope, decided for itself. On five occasions between 1536 and 1549 Henry, with the help of the bishops, issued pronouncements “to abolish diversity of opinions.” These pronouncements not all consistent with each other are not entirely reassuring about Henry VIII’s Catholic beliefs. His friend, Archbishop Cranmer, later admitted that Henry, before his death, was thinking of further changes in religion. And Henry did, after all, place his son and successor, Edward, in the hands of educators and advisers with Protestant sympathies. This decision led directly to extensive Protestant changes by the governments of Edward VI.

MATERIALIST OUTLOOK

The sordid outlook of Henry VIII’s England also needs to be given greater stress. “It is difficult to think of an age in which unselfishness, devotion to an ideal, faithfulness to a master or a friend were rarer in public life, or one in which lust for material gain was greater.” And, according to Dom David Knowles again, even one of the great exceptions to the prevailing spirit, the martyr of 1535, St. Thomas More, appears to have come late to his sanctity. He developed “very markedly in purity of vision” only when he abandoned his interests and endured hardship, treachery, loneliness and “the ultimate solitude of misunderstanding from those he loved most.”

THE BISHOPS

Henry VIII’s bishops must be seen against the background of career making and profit seeking, with the shining exception of St. John Fisher (1469–1535), and to a much lesser extent of William Warham, Archbishop of Canterbury, 1503 to 1532, whose stature, like More’s, grew in adversity. Warham was, in many ways, the typical Henrician bishop, whose promotion in the Church was a reward for dedicated service to the King. His outlook reflected his career as lawyer, administrator and diplomat. His frequent maxim was “the wrath of the Prince is death.” Such bishops, servants and dependents as they were, needed the King’s additional protection against the rising tide of anti-clerical feeling, dangerously expressed in Parliament from 1529 and skilfully directed from 1532 by Thomas Cromwell, a master of ecclesiastical revolution. Such bishops could not lightly risk royal displeasure and nearly all did not.

The strongly exercised secular spirit, with its distrust of Papal power politics of the early sixteenth century, would probably have led to some change in the exercise of Papal control of the Church in England even without Henry VIII’s divorce arrangements. Papal control in England was more extensive in 1530 than in Catholic France or Spain. In these countries Pope and King had rearranged the Papal exercises of control.

The clear duty of the bishops was to prevent such rearrangement injuring the Pope’s essential spiritual authority. In England, only Bishop Fisher stood resolved on this from the beginning to the point of martyrdom in 1535. Archbishop Warham finally abandoned his deference to Princes. Before he died in 1532, he penned a noble protest against royal intrusion into the rights of the Church. At the last, he appreciated his position as successor to St. Thomas Becket, the victim of earlier royal aggression. Old man that he was (he was nearly eighty), Warham died just too soon. Had he lived his final resolution might have made an impression on the other bishops from whom Fisher was set apart by his sanctity. Warham’s portrait (on the cover) reveals the man whose steadfast integrity was long overlaid by monumental patience with the arrogant claims of others and by a sad worldly realism. The tragedy of Henry VIII’s Reformation lines his face.

EDWARD VI

The Reformation in the reign of Edward VI, 1547–53, was the natural climax of the Henrician Reformation. Protestant Reformers gathering strength under Henry VIII won an expectedly clear victory over the schismatic bishops, who had vainly trusted Kings to safeguard the Mass, the Sacraments and Catholic devotional life. Such bishops, as Stephen Gardiner, Cuthbert Tunstall and Edmund Bonne, were defeated as well as discredited. Reformers, aided by royal power, now openly abandoned Catholic fundamentals. They substituted a new form of worship contained in the Prayer Books of 1549 and 1552 and Protestant doctrines contained in the 42 Articles of 1553, the forerunner of the 39 Articles.

The Reformers, however, had to depend on the politicians and the age of materialism reserved its most blatant specimens for the reign of Edward VI. For example, Richard Rich, whose perjury betrayed More in 1535, crowned an infamous career in 1548 by occupying More’s old office of Lord Chancellor. The Reformers wanted things to be otherwise. John Hooper desperately nailed the leading politician of the reign, John Dudley, as a “most holy and fearless instrument of the Lord.” Dudley willingly advanced Reformation measures, but the Reformation could hardly have prospered for long under the patronage of this “incarnation of the hypocrisy and self-seeking which marred the Reformation.”

REIGN OF MARY TUDOR, 1553–8

Under the Catholic Queen, Mary Tudor, the importance of royal leadership was seen in the speedy restoration of Papal authority and in the speedier undoing of the Reformation measures, except that, by Papal insistence, the restoration of confiscated religious property was not demanded.

BLUNDERS

The new beginning was soon marred by serious governmental errors. Indeed, one of the unending pursuits of historians of this reign is to attempt to blame or exonerate one of other leading figures for the major blunders.

SPANISH ALLIANCE

One blunder was Mary’s marriage to Philip II of Spain. A Catholic or Spanish alliance was not unpopular in itself, but Mary allowed a fiercely independent England to be subordinated to Spanish Continental policies. It was a disastrous confusion of foreign interest with Catholic interest.

BURNING HERETICS

Another blunder was the implacable drive against those convicted of unrepudiated heretical opinion. This was more than blunder. In many instances it was a crime. Many of those convicted of heresy were brought up from 1534 in a heretical society. They were not properly Catholic from the first. They had not renounced the Catholic faith. They had never been taught it. In Fr. Philip Hughes’ words, “Many of those tried and convicted and burned were not, by the canon law, really liable to these penalties, whatever their beliefs, and whatever the obstinacy with which they clung to them.”

To make matters worse the judges of heresy were those bishops of whom nearly half had been responsible, in Henry VIII’s reign, for creating or furthering the heretical climate in which many of their victims were brought up.

Not all Mary’s victims, however, were brought up in a heretical society. Most of the famous names were technically heretics. Cranmer, Latimer, Ridley, Rogers, Bradford and Hooper were all adult before 1534.

MARY’S FAILURE

The Marian Restoration, for all its interest in burning, failed to light the fires of spiritual fervour among Catholic clergy and laity or to warm English hearts with ardent Papal loyalty. Wayward leadership was made ultimately futile by bitter hostility from the failing, 80 years old Pope Paul IV. He detested everything Spanish, including Mary’s England, suspected Mary’s Archbishop of Canterbury, Cardinal Pole, of heresy, and refused to help him further. On this depressing note Mary’s reign ended in November, 1558, with vacancies in five bishops’ sees and the English Church insufficiently prepared for the coming challenge.

REIGN OF ELIZABETH I, 1558–1603

Under Elizabeth I royal leadership proved once more important, and this time decisively important, in the English Reformation. This was not as clear at the time as it is now. In 1559 the Royal supremacy once more replaced Papal authority in England and the Prayer Book service once more replaced the Mass. In 1563, the 39 Articles, a revised edition of the 42 Articles of Edward VI, re-imposed Reformation doctrine.

In vain, all the surviving Marian bishops, except one, refused to accept the revival of Royal supremacy, and were replaced by Protestant bishops. Most of the clergy acquiesced in the change.

How long would the new arrangements last? The English Catholics wondered as they waited. Six issues must be noticed.

GOVERNMENT AIM

The Elizabethan government constantly aimed at the destruction, not the toleration, of the Catholic faith in England. English Catholics, as far as possible, were to be assimilated into the Elizabethan Church. This was to be brought about in three ways.

The Elizabethan Church was made as attractive as possible to Catholics even if some Protestants, especially Puritans, were affronted. Vestments were used. The main service sounded familiar and inoffensive and reassuring statements were made about the meaning of the Royal supremacy.

Strong government pressure, backed by fire and imprisonment, was used to force Catholics to attend the Elizabethan Church.

Catholics were to be spiritually starved by being denied the ministrations of Catholic priests. By 1585 to give or receive such ministrations became a capital offence.

POLITICAL AND RELIGIOUS INTENT

The Elizabethan policy, in intent, was both political and religious. Politically, it accepted the common sixteenthcentury assumption that all good citizens had to profess the same official religion for the sake of public peace. Furthermore, those who rejected this religion rejected half the duty of citizens and were suspect on the other half.

Religiously the Elizabethan policy accepted the usual sixteenth-century governmental view that one religion was true, its own, and all others were false. False religion, offensive to God and dangerous to souls, must be suppressed.

In all this Elizabethan policy was basically no different from other sixteenth-century governments: “One King, one Faith, one Law,” as the French put it.

Of course, within Elizabethan government, various individuals differed. Elizabeth herself was probably moved more by political interest although she could use the religious argument. She said to Parliament in 1585, “if I were not persuaded that mine were the true way of God’s will, God forbid that I should live to prescribe it to you.” Her chief minister, William Cecil, whose outlook was strongly political, seems to have been moved by marked religious hostility to the Catholic faith. Some others, like Francis Walsingham, appear to have been so obsessed by hatred of the Catholic Church as to be constant advocates of a “holy war.”

The public pronouncements of the Elizabethan government against Catholics concentrated, however, on political arguments and spoke of the mildness and patience of Elizabethan religious policy.

CATHOLIC RESPONSE

The Catholic Church could never accept the Elizabethan religious policy, however commonplace it was in Europe, and however gently the Elizabethan pressure might have been applied compared with the large numbers killed by other sixteenth-century governments savagely trying to stamp out religious opposition.

The Catholic Church had to forbid its members to attend Prayer Book services whatever the penalties for absence.

The Catholic Church had to supply priests for England even if they had to be smuggled in to work under cover, at the risk of being mistaken for foreign agents, spies or plotters and of being killed for being priests.

The Catholic case had also to be put clearly in pamphlet and book to answer the Protestant case and to persuade public opinion. In the new lay society opinion was best won by spiritual leadership and force of argument. Campion’s Ten Reasons, Allen’s True, Sincere and Modest Defence of English Catholics, Persons’ Christian Directory, and even the Douai Bible itself, to mention a few, all armed and fortified Catholics in the great battle of the books.

CATHOLIC SCHEMES OF MILITANT OPPOSITION

Religious efforts to rescue Elizabethan Catholics under persecution were complicated by Catholic political and military efforts in the same cause.

Between 1568 and 1586 a series of resistance movements and plots were concocted to replace Elizabeth by her Catholic cousin, Mary, Queen of Scots. In 1570, to ease Catholic consciences, Pope St. Pius V excommunicated Elizabeth and absolved her Catholic subjects from obedience to her. In 1580, Pope Gregory XIII’s Secretary of State, in a private answer to a private question, held it no sin to kill Elizabeth but a glorious and meritorious deed if done “with the pious intention of doing God service.” In 1579 Pope Gregory XIII, the great patron of seminaries and missions, sent a small military expedition to Elizabethan Ireland to raise revolt. This embarrassed Campion and Persons in England in 1580. In 1588, an attempt to restore the Catholic faith by force was defeated, to the unmistakable relief of Pope Sixtus V, when the Spanish Armada was dispersed before it embarked invasion troops.

No doubt some of the plots were hopelessly organized and many known in advance to the English secret service. But in the sixteenth century the desperate weapon of assassination often succeeded and usually on unexpected occasions. The current Catholics’ method of trying to explain away the plots is less convincing than to point to the obvious loyalty and distaste of most English Catholics for plots and invasions, whether these schemes were Papal, English or Spanish.

ELIZABETHAN PROFIT FROM CATHOLIC SCHEMES

The schemes provided a golden opportunity to the Elizabethan government to identify all Catholic activity as treason, and to carry out its unswerving policy of exterminating the Catholic faith under the cover of patriotism and protection of the realm. For example, early missionary martyrs, like Mayne and Campion, could only be convicted on trivial technicalities or trumped up charges of conspiracy. But by 1585 the atmosphere changed enough to support legislation allowing priests to be convicted merely for being priests.

FADING CATHOLIC OPPORTUNITY

Can we know when the Catholic opportunity of recovering England faded? No certain answer is possible. Yet it seems to have been in Elizabeth’s reign and it seems to have little to do with the prospects of success of militant activities like Catholic plots or the Spanish Armada.

Pope Sixtus V’s doubt about the recovery of England by Spanish troops came from a sound instinct. Catholic religion could not effectively be restored by violence triumphant, while violence that failed would leave a long legacy of hatred of all things Catholic.

Two factors were apparently more important.

ELIZABETH’S LONG REIGN

The unexpectedly long reign of Elizabeth. This enabled a new generation to grow up to accept the Elizabethan Church, and enabled the Puritan movement to imbue Protestant Englishmen with a moral purpose, more widespread than earlier Protestant influences and determinedly hostile to Catholic claims.

RESTRICTED ACTIVITY OF CATHOLIC MISSIONARIES

The Catholic missionaries in England for all their dedication, heroism and suffering, necessarily moved in a very restricted field. Unlike, say, St. Francis Xavier, S.J., who died near China in 1552, and who is said to have made 700,000 Asian converts, the English missionary had no wide opportunity of preaching or influencing large numbers. He was tied to his host’s family and friends as he moved secretly from country house to country house. Fr. John Gerard, S.J., even declared that while in the Clink, a London prison, between 1593 and 1597, “We had, by God’s grace, everything so arranged that I was able to perform there all the tasks of a Jesuit priest, and provided only I could have stayed in this prison, I should never have wanted to have my liberty again in England.” Furthermore, those they converted or whose faith they confirmed were marked men in society and excluded, as far as possible, from positions of public influence.

Catholic recovery of England was hardly possible under these circumstances. The missionaries did not achieve what the world calls success, yet they did not fail.

Blessed Robert Southwell, S.J. (c. 1561–95) abandoned a great career as a poet for the greater career of martyrmissionary. He knew that in Elizabethan England the love of God was love in a cold climate. One of his poems speaks to Catholics and Protestants alike.

“As I in hoary winter’s night stood shivering in the snow, Surpris’d I was with sudden heat which made my heart to glow; And lifting up a fearful eye to view what fire was near, A pretty Babe all burning bright did in the air appear; ‘Alas!’ quoth he, ‘but newly born in fiery heats I fry,

Yet none approach to warm their hearts or feel my fire but I. My faultless breast the furnace is, the fuel wounding thorns; Love is the fire, and sighs the smoke, the ashes shame and scorns; The fuel Justice layeth on, and Mercy blows the coals; The metal in this Furnace wrought are men’s defiled souls;’ With this he vanished out of sight and swiftly shrunk away, And straight I called unto mind that it was Christmas Day.”

Nihil Obstat:

Bernard O’Connor, Diocesan Censor

Imprimatur:

@ Justin D. Simonds,

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis. 28/4/1964

********

The Eucharist

BY “THE OBSERVER”

INDEX

IN some districts and towns in the North of Ireland it is quite customary to assail Catholics on account of their religion.

Catholic servants and those employed at public works are very frequently annoyed in this respect; and, sometimes, such are badly prepared to give a reason for the faith that is in them.

The following pages have been composed and compiled in tours of leisure, with the object of supplying Catholics with arguments which, it is hoped, will enable them to vindicate the truth of their holy religion, and, at the same time, to confute their adversaries.

There is, perhaps, very little new advanced, as a few well-known authors-to whom, for the sake of brevity, no reference is made in the text-have been put under contribution in the composition of the work: but there is a new arrangement of matter which may be attractive and useful.

The writer has selected the Church’s doctrines and practices to which exception is most commonly taken, and which are often made the subject of scoffs and sneers. If the little book prove in any way advantageous to those for whom it has been written, the labour undergone in writing it shall be more than rewarded.

THE subject of the Eucharist is one which appeals to the hearts of all Catholics. They cannot bear to hear it spoken of disrespectfully. It is, moreover, usually considered the touchstone of the Catholic and Protestant claims to the true faith. Hence, although it is hard to be obliged to defend the truth of God against His creatures, yet such a duty devolves on the faithful with regard to this ineffable mystery. Protestants, of course, do not agree among themselves on this more than on any other subject. A short time after the so-called Reformation, they gave no fewer than sixtyfive different interpretations to the four words, “This is my body.” It is only in opposition to the Catholic doctrine of the Real Presence that Protestants find themselves at one.

There were many figures of the Eucharist in the Old Law. The manna was notably so. Now, if Protestant views about the Eucharist be correct, the manna was superior to the Eucharist-that is, the type was superior to the thing typified. (1) The manna was produced by the immediate action of God, whereas the Eucharistic bread is produced by a baker. (2) The manna descended from heaven, the Eucharistic bread is brought forth from the oven. (3) The manna was a particular food, miraculously given to the people of God; the bread of the Eucharist is a common food for the salvation of all men, provided they be properly disposed by faith and graces Jews and Turks as well as Christians. But the superiority of the Eucharist over the manna in Catholic belief, is evident.

The doctrine of the Catholic Church is defined most clearly in the Council of Trent, Sess. 13: “That in the Sacrament of the most Holy Eucharist are contained, truly, really, and substantially, the body and blood, together with the soul and divinity of our Lord Jesus Christ.” Christ is in the Eucharist “truly”that is, the words “This is My body” are not, as the Zuinglians contended, a mere figure. He is there “really,” so that His presence does not depend, as Calvin taught, on the faith of the receiver. He is there “substantially:” these words exclude another error of Calvin, who held that Christ’s body is in heaven and nowhere else, though it exercises its virtue and power in the Eucharist.

The proofs of the Catholic doctrine are deduced from various sources -Sacred Scripture, Prescription, and Tradition. Large volumes have been written in the development of these proofs, but we shall touch only on a few of them as sufficient for our purpose.

The first proof is taken from St. John, chap. 6, where we have a promise of the Eucharist.

After the record of a stupendous miracle, which our Lord performed, whereby the wants of five thousand men, with women and children, were supplied by the use of five loaves and two fishes, the Evangelist states that Our Lord took occasion to speak of the Sacrament of His body and blood, which was to be distributed, not to a few thousands, but to countless millions of souls, not in one place, but in every place “from the rising of the sun to the going down,” not at one time, but in all days, “even to the consummation of the world.” Jesus said (ver. 48, and following) “I am the bread of life. Your fathers did eat manna in the dssert, and are dead. This is the bread which cometh down from heaven: that if any man eat of it, he may not die. I am the living bread, which came down from heaven. If any man eat of this bread he shall live for ever; and the bread that I will give is My flesh for the life of the world.” The Jews therefore strove among themselves, saying: “How can this Man give us His flesh to eat? Then Jesus said to them: “Amen, amen, I say unto you: except you eat the flesh of the Son of Man, and drink His blood, you shall not have life in you. . . . For My flesh is meat, indeed, and My blood is drink, indeed.” Our Divine Lord here speaks literally of His body and blood; and the multitude so understood Him. For “the Jews strove among themselves, saying: How can this Man give us His flesh to eat?” Even some of the disciples, though avoiding the disrespectful language of the multitude, gave expression to their dissent by saying (verse 61): “This saying is hard, and who can hear it?”

Both Jews and disciples evidently showed by their words and conduct that they understood Our Lord to have spoken literally: for had they interpreted His words in a figurative sense, the “saying” would not have been hard, neither would it have led them to abandon Him, as they did.

Now if our Lord had intended His words to be taken in a figurative sense, would He not, in His infinite goodness, have explained them? There is a number of passages in the New Testament where Christ’s words were taken literally, whereas He intended them to be taken figuratively, and in those passages He corrects the mistakes, though from some of them no great error could result. For example, He says (St. John, chap. 11):- “Lazarus, our friend, sleepeth.” Taking His words in their literal sense, the disciples said: “Lord, if he sleep, he shall do well:” but our Lord corrected the mistake by saying: “Lazanus is dead.” In the present instance does He alter His language? Does He soften down the expressions used? By no means; but He repeats more emphatically than before: “Amen, amen, I say unto you, except you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink His blood, you shall not have life in you.” “He that eateth My flesh and drinketh My blood hath everlasting life.”

“My flesh is meat, indeed, and My blood is drink, indeed.” “He that eateth My flesh and drinketh My blood abideth in Me and I in him.” “He that eateth Me, the same also shall live by Me.” Could words be more clear? Could language be more emphatic? Five times, after exception was taken to His words, Our Divine Lord repeats that we must eat His flesh and drink His blood; and when, in consequence of these words, “Many of His disciples went back, and walked no more with Him” (v. 67), He offered no explanation, but merely turned to the chosen twelve, and feelingly said to them: “Will you also go away?” Whereupon Peter, in the name of the others, replied: “Lord, to whom shall we go? Thou hast the words of eternal life.” Peter’s words have been re-echoed by every Catholic who ever lived, and will be re-echoed by every Catholic who ever shall live on the face of the earth. Neither Peter nor they could or can comprehend this adorable mystery; but they “have believed and know Christ to be Son of God,” and, therefore, that He can accomplish what He says. “His words are the words of eternal life.”

From the conduct of our Divine Lord, from the incredulity of the Jews and faithless disciples, and from the fidelity of the chosen twelve, we are compelled to believe that Christ promised to give to his faithful followers His real body and His real blood in the Sacrament of the Eucharist.

The words of institution are recorded by St. Matthew, St. Mark, and St. Luke in almost the same terms. St. Matthew says-chap. 26-”And while they were at supper, Jesus took bread, and blessed and broke, and gave to His disciples, and said: Take ye and eat: this is my body. And taking the chalice He gave thanks, and gave to them, saying: “Drink ye all of this: for this is My blood of the New Testament, which shall be shed for many unto remission of sins.” How faithfully here has our dear Lord fulfilled the promise He had made? Could language be more clear? “This is My body: this is My blood.” Catholics take, and always have taken, these words in their literal sense, nor have they any difficulty in doing so, for they believe that “With God all things are possible.”-St. Matt. xix. 26. Protestants, however, take them in a figurative sense, because they do not understand how God could effect a mystery* so stupendous?

* A mystery of faith, is a revealed truth, which is so much exalted above human intelligence that man could never have soared to its heights unaided by the light of faith; and which, when he is thus -enabled to know, he still remains incapable of understanding or explaining. It is above human reason without, however, being contrary to it. A miracle, on the other hand, is a sensible event which takes place contrary to the ordinary laws of nature, by the special intervention of God. Such, for instance, is the resurrection of Lazarus, as reported by it. John (chap. xi).

The Eucharist is a mystery, which transcends human comprehension. There are many mysteries revealed in the Sacred Scriptures. The Trinity is a mystery, not only above, but apparently contrary to human reason. The Incarnation is a mystery; does it not contradict all the senses except the sense of hearing? Those who saw the Divine Infant in the crib of Bethlehem were impressed, by the testimony of their senses, that they beheld nothing but a mere child; but the voice of the angelic choir proclaimed the Child to be “A Saviour, who is Christ the Lord;” and as “faith cometh by hearing,” if Protestants applied this principle, they would get over all doubts and difficulties suggested by the senses against the mystery of the Eucharist. Protestants are very inconsistent on this point. They believe the mysteries of the Trinity and the Incarnation, but reject the mystery of the Eucharist, which is more clearly revealed. That Rationalists should reject all mysteries is comprehensible; but that Bible Christians should believe some and reject other mysteries equally or more clearly revealed is incomprehensible, indeed!

The circumstances in which our Lord was placed at the Last Supper oblige us to take His words in their plain, literal sense. To whom did He address Himself? At what time did He speak? He was addressing His chosen disciples, to whom, in private, He was accustomed to explain the difficulties which appeared to be in the discourses which He addressed to the multitudes. He was addressing them, too, for the last time. He was speaking to those whom He had destined to establish His holy religion. He was instituting a Sacrament, which He then bequeathed, as the most precious legacy, to His Church. He was, in fine, legislating for His Spiritual Kingdom. Did not all these circumstances require the greatest perspicuity? Is it less than blasphemy to say that He spoke in a manner calculated to convince mankind of the real presence of His body and blood in the Eucharist, if His body and blood were not truly, really, and substantially. present therein? As a living parent He was bound to couch His last will and testament in terms not likely to introduce error and discord among His children after His death. As a Divine legislator He was obliged to promulgate His law in terms conveying a clear knowledge of the law to those whom He destined to be its expounders. Was not our Divine Lord omniscient? Did He not foresee that the countless millions of Christians who lived from the first to the sixteenth century would believe the doctrine of the real presence? Did He not foresee, too, that countless millions of Catholics-after the sixteenth century-would still believe the same doctrine? If such were not His doctrine did not His own words lead them, all into error? The assertion is blasphemy!

It must be borne in mind that on the occasion of the institution of the Holy Eucharist, at His Last Supper, Our Lord commanded His disciples to do what He had done till the end of time. “Do this for a commemoration of Me” (St. Luke, xxii. 19). Now, the belief and practice of the Apostles on this point are vital. Did they merely bless bread and wine, and distribute them to the faithful: or did they consecrate the body and blood of Jesus Christ? If we find that the Apostles and their successors from the first till the nineteenth century professed to consecrate and dispense the body and blood of Christ, by virtue of the command of our Divine Lord, then the Catholic doctrine is triumphant.

St. Paul wrote Epistles to the Corinthians, and in the first Epistle (x. 16) these words occur: “The chalice of benediction, which we bless, is it not the communion of the blood of Christ? And the bread, which we break, is it not the partaking of the body of the Lord?” Again (xi. 23–29): “For I have received of the Lord that which also I delivered unto you, that the Lord Jesus, the same night in which He was betrayed, took bread, and giving thanks, broke, and said: ‘Take ye and eat: this is My body, which shall be delivered for you: this do for the commemoration of Me.’ In like manner, also, the chalice, after He had supped, saying:”This chalice is the New Testament in My blood: this do ye, as often as you shall drink, for the commemoration of Me; for as often as you shall eat this bread and drink the chalice you shall show the death of the Lord until He come. Therefore, whosoever shall eat of this bread or drink the, chalice of the Lord unworthily shall be guilty of the body and blood of the Lord. But let a man prove himself: and so let him eat of that bread and drink of the chalice; for he that eateth and drinketh unworthily eateth and drinketh judgment to himself, not discerning the body of the Lord.’” Could St. Paul express more clearly his belief in the real presence? He distinctly and clearly affirms that the chalice and bread which he and the other Apostles bless are a participation of the body and blood of Christ. He says: Whosoever shall eat this bread or drink the chalice of the Lord unworthily shall be guilty of the body and blood of the Lord.” But could St. Paul be so unreasonable as to declare a man guilty of profaning the body and blood of the Lord, if the man had received in the Eucharist only bread and wine? Again, St. Paul says: “He that eateth and drinketh unworthily, eateth and drinketh judgment to himself, not discerning the body of the Lord.” The unworthy deceiver is condemned for not “discerning” the body of the Lord in the Eucharist; but could he be blamed for not discerning the body of the Lord if there be only bread and wine before him? Hence, St. Paul, both by his belief and practice, confirms the doctrine of the real presence of Jesus Christ in the adorable Sacrament of the Eucharist.

The Catholic doctrine is proved, too, by prescription. At the time of the so-called Reformation all Christians in the world except the handful of Vaudois, believed in the real presence-the Nestorian and Eutychians, who had separated from the Catholic Church in the fifth century; the Greek Church, the Russian Church, the Copts, Syrians, Chaldeans, and all the Oriental sects, which had long been separated from the communion of Rome; and all these sects still believe in the real presence. Now, this fact alone is sufficient to establish the truth of the Catholic doctrine. It is a doctrine which includes a Sacrament and a sacrifice of daily use among the faithful. The reformers come forward and say “This doctrine was not taught by the early Church, but was introduced afterwards.” Now, to say that at any time the Church could teach error is a blasphemy; for the assertion is based on a supposition that Christ either could not or did not fulfil his promises when he said: “I am with you all days, even to the consummation of the world;” or when He said; “The gates of hell shall not prevail against His Church.”

At the time of the so-called Reformation the Church was in possession of the doctrine of the real presence. The reformers impugned it; and it was their duty to show that a change had taken place, and to show where and by whom it was made. Did they do so? No; nor will they ever do so. They cannot produce a single page of history, either sacred or profane, which will sustain them in their thesis. Are we, then, to believe that this great change, about which Protestants now clamour so loudly, took place, and that no alarm was raised either by vigilant pastors or faithful people ? Are we to believe that the Universal Church-pastors and people-retired to rest one night believing in a figurative presence, and arose next morning all believing in a real presence, and that not a trace of this change is recorded in history? A supposition of the kind is outrageously absurd. No such change was ever made: no such error was ever introduced. Therefore the doctrine taught and believed at the time of the Reformation was the doctrine taught and believed in every age back to the days of the Apostles, and was consequently the doctrine received by them from Christ Himself.

We are now come to the last argument -Tradition. St. Ignatius, a disciple of St. Peter, and who died a martyr in the Coliseum, says of the Docetae, who denied that Christ had a real body: “They abstain from the Eucharist because they confess not that the Eucharist is the flesh of our Saviour Jesus Christ, which suffered for our sins, and which the Father raised from the dead.” What a glorious testimony to our holy faith. Eighteen hundred years have rolled by, and still the faith of Rome is as vivid as on the day of the martyrdom of St. Ignatius.

St. Justin, in the second century, writes, in an apology to the Emperor Antoninus: “We do not receive those things as common bread and drink; but as Jesus Christ our Saviour was made flesh by the word. of God, so we are taught that the Eucharist is both the flesh and blood of the same Jesus Incarnate.” Would any man in his senses write thus to a pagan if he believed only in a figurative presence of our Lord in the Holy Eucharist?

Origen (third century) says: “If thou wilt go up with Christ to celebrate the Passion, He will give to thee that bread of benediction, His own body, and will vouchsafe to thee His own blood.”

St. Cyril of Jerusalem (fourth century), instructing his people, says: “He Himself having declared “This is My body,’who shall dare to doubt henceforward? He having said ‘This is My blood,’ who shall ever doubt, saying”This is not My blood.’ He once at Cana turned water into wine, which is like blood; and is He undeserving of belief when He tells us that He has turned wine into blood?” St. Cyril might be imagined to be contending against modern unbelief.

St. Augustine (fifth century), addressing the newly baptised, says: “I promised you a discourse, wherein I would explain the Sacrament of the Lord’s table. The bread which you see on the altar, after being sanctified by the word of God, is the body of Christ. That chalice, after being sanctified by the word of God, is the blood of Christ.”

Numberless other authorities might be adduced, but they are not required. Those culled from the first five centuries show the doctrine believed and taught in those centuries to be precisely the same as that taught and believed by the Catholics of the nineteenth century.

Before concluding this subject it will not be amiss to state the belief of our own dear Irish Church on this important dogma. The Episcopal Protestants-one-eighth of the population-have the courage (?) to dub themselves “The Church of Ireland,” and would fain have themselves regarded as descended from the ancient Irish Church. They formerly disclaimed St. Patrick; but now they claim him as the founder of their sect. Deluded people! Who should know, if they do not, that their religion was commenced by Henry VIII., whose character for profligacy was simply infamous. Henry cast aside his allegiance-to the Church because the Pope (Clement VII.) would not permit him to divorce his lawful wife, Catherine, with whom he had lived seventeen years, in order that he might marry Anne Boleyn. Henry effected his purpose, however, through the services of the infamous Cranmer, who pronounced the marriage with Catherine to be null and void! This occurred in the year 1534. At the close of the year, when the Parliament met, Henry had himself proclaimed the only supreme head on earth of the Church of England. His next move was to have the newly assumed title recognised in Ireland. George Brown, a rank Lutheran, was consecrated by Cranmer in England, and sent to Dublin to fill the Archiepiscopal See, which then happened to be vacant. Brown and his companions preached up the doctrine of lay supremacy of Henry VIII., who died as he lived, in 1547. Henry had six wives, two of whom he repudiated, two he beheaded, one died in childbirth, and the sixth probably would have ended her days on the scaffold, if Providence had permitted the monster to continue much longer on earth.

In the succeeding reigns of Edward and Elizabeth the system of the Church of England was completed as it now exists; and penal laws, which should have been written in characters of fire and of blood, were enacted for the suppression of Catholicity in Ireland, and for the introduction of Anglicanism. A storm of persecution swept over the country from sea to sea. Bishops and priests were exiled or put to death; education proscribed; and the churches were either appropriated or razed to the ground. The caves of the earth, or the lowly, quiet valleys, under the broad canopy of heaven, were the only temples left to the poor Irish, who had been robbed, by the predecessors of those who now designate themselves “The Church of Ireland,” of all the glorious monuments, which had been erected by the faith and charity of their ancestors.

The Irish Church, in communion with Rome, ought to be dearer than life itself to the Catholics of Ireland. For it our forefathers lost their properties, and often shed their blood. It is, therefore, of great importance, as has been stated already, to know what was the faith of the Irish after St. Patrick’s time in regard to the Holy Eucharist.

We have the Stowe Missal, which, according to the best Irish scholars, cannot be later than the sixth century. In this Missal we find Masses for the Dead; for the Living; of the Apostles and Virgins; and the greater part of the Canon is word for word the same as in the Roman Missal used at the present time. The Irish priest today at God’s altar uses the same prayers as the sainted Irish priests of thirteen centuries ago.

We have a second Missal, called The Bobbio Missal, given by St. Columbanus, our great Irish Saint, in the sixth century, to his Irish disciples in Italy. In this Missal the Canon of the Mass is substantially the same as in the Roman Missal. The prayers in this book clearly prove the doctrine of the real presence. Of our Divine Lord it states: “By participating of whose flesh we are strengthened, and by drinking whose blood we are cleansed.” Could the Catholic doctrine be more clearly expressed?

In the lives of our great national Saints we find also clear proofs of the same doctrine.

The two virgin daughters of King Leoghaire say to St. Patrick: “Give to us the sacrifice of the body and blood of Christ, that we may be freed from the corruption of the flesh, and may see our spouse in heaven.” Then St. Patrick “celebrated Mass, and both daughters of the King approached the Communion with great hope and perfect faith; and when they had communicated they immediately rested in peace.”

When the Saint himself took ill, like all his spiritual children to the present day, he fortified his soul with the Holy Communion, or Viaticum. “When the hour of his death approached he received the Sacrament from the Bishop, Tassach; it was at the admonition of the angel Victor he received theViaticum.”-Vita Tripartita.

St. Benignus, the beloved disciple of St. Patrick, prepared for death thus: “The man of God, seeing that his dissolution was at hand, sent for St. Jarlath, and received most devoutly from his hand the earnest and pledge of eternal happiness, the body of the Lord; and thus prepared himself for death, and for his entrance to his heavenly country.” In the “Life of St. Bridgid,” “the Mary of Erin,” who is and ought to be dear to every Irish woman’s heart, we read, immediately before her death “she received the body and blood of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Son of the living God, from the most pure-hand of Ninnidh, as she herself had predicted.”-Trias Thaumaturga.

These passages-more might be cited-prove the faith of our forefathers in the adorable mystery of the Eucharist. The faith of St. Patrick was the same as that of St. Ignatius, St. Justin, Origen, St. Cyril, and St. Augustine. The prescription and tradition of every age are in accordance with the teaching of St. Paul; and St. Paul confirms the doctrine contained in the words of institution narrated by the three Evangelists; and the words of institution fulfil the promise made by our Divine Lord in the Gospel of St. John. All taken together, conclusively, irresistibly force on the candid mind the conviction of the truth of the holy dogma, defined so clearly by the Council of Trent, “that in the Sacrament of the Holy Eucharist are contained truly, really, and substantially the body and blood, together with the soul and divinity, of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ.”

Transubstantiation follows directly from the doctrine of the real presence. No one thing in nature can become really and substantially another thing of a different class unless the former be changed into the latter. If, taking water into his hands at Cana, our dear Lord had said, “This is wine,” the assertion would be untrue unless he changed the water into wine. In like manner, had Moses said of the rod in his hand, on flinging it on the ground, “This is a serpent,” the assertion would not be true unless it were changed into a serpent. Hence, when Our Lord said of what He held in His hands-bread and wine-that they were His body and blood, they required to be changed into His body and blood in order that His assertion should be true.

This wonderful and singular conversion of the whole substance of the bread into the body, and of the whole substance of the wine into the blood of Christ, by the consecration of the bread and wine, is, as the Council of Trent teaches (i. Sess. 13), “properly called by the Catholic Church transubstantiation.” If the term is objected to-as it is by Protestants-as not found in the sacred Scriptures, they may also object-which they do not-to the terms Trinity and Incarnation as not found in the Bible. These terms are not found in the Sacred Scriptures; but they express in the clearest manner the doctrine found therein. When Protestants object to the Catholic doctrine, because they cannot comprehend it, or because they cannot understand how Christ’s body can be in different places at the same time, they clearly forget or do not know that the Encharist is a mystery. It is a doctrine which we are bound to believe, but which cannot be comprehended by weak human reason. Protestants ask Catholics to account naturally for what is supernatural. Surely in this they are unreasonable; and their unreasonableness will appear more clearly if they themselves cannot even explain mysteries of nature; for there are mysteries in nature. Can they explain, for example, how a man’s soul can be wholly in every part of his body. If the body grows, it comes to the new parts without leaving the old ones; and if a limb be cut off, the soul loses nothing of its immortal self. And why may not a spiritual body, about which we can know nothing, be in different places, by divine power, at the same time? We cannot explain naturally how Our Lord can be in Heaven and in various places on earth at the same time; but we believe that, being in many places at once, our dear Lord is fulfilling the express intention He had in leaving Himself sacramentally on earth. He has left Himself, not for one or two persons, nor for one country, but for all His children, and wishes to be accessible to all. This very presence was foretold by the prophet Malachy (i. 11) where he tells us of “the edema oblation,” the Mass, which is being offered constantly “from the rising of the sun even to the going down.”

In concluding this subject, which is eminently practical, considering the following words of Our Lord:-”Except you eat the flesh of the Son of Man, and drink His blood, you shall not have life in you.” (St. John, vi.)-I will make this case. Suppose a Catholic and a Protestant to be, after death, before the divine tribunal. On the sentence about to be pronounced shall depend their state for eternity. Let us suppose that Jesus Christ the Judge will say to the Protestant: “You did not believe in the real presence?” The Protestant will answer. “No.” The Judge will rejoin: “Why? Were not my words, ‘This is My body: this is My blood,’ plain”? “Oh, yes,” the Protestant will say; “but I did not think that You really meant what You said: I gave to your words a figurative interpretation.” Then, turning to the Catholic, the Judge will say: “You believed in the real presence.” “Yes,” the Catholic will reply. “Why?” “Simply, my God, because You said so; and ‘Thou hast the words of eternal life.’” It is not difficult to see which of the two would be in the safer position at that dread moment on which depends eternity.

Catholics cannot be sufficiently grateful for their faith in the adorable mystery of the Eucharist, and they should pray daily for those who have it not; that “we being many may become one bread, one body, all that partake of one bread.”-1 Cor. x. 17.

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The Existence of God

THE ARGUMENT IN POPULAR FORM

BY REV. R. P. REDMOND, D. D

INDEX

WHY DO most people believe there is a God who made the world? The Book of Wisdom tells us that even the pagans should be able to know the Maker from His works. Let us put the argument in its simplest form. Imagine yourself on a desert island. Suddenly you come across a piece of old rusty machinery. At once you know that someone made this- some intelligence has been at work here.

Why are you so sure of this? Perhaps at first you can hardly say -it is too obvious to explain. If the question is pressed, you point out that the thing has clearly been designed. Look at those toothed wheels-look at the way this gadget fits into that. Each part is obviously constructed to do something: and each part fits into the next, so that all the parts work together as a single unit which has some special purpose. But that sort of arrangement is the mark of intelligent design, as clearly as if the maker had stamped a name on it. Someone made it for a purpose.

But now take a look at yourself looking at this piece of machinery. Isn’t it clear that you are even more wonderfully constructed? Every little bit of you has a function, just as much as every gadget in the machine. And every part of your body fits in with the other parts, so that the whole thing works together as a unit to supply your needs. Can anyone deny that we ourselves-and the world around us too-show all the indications of intelligent construction? Someone made us: and the great Mind that designed the world we call God.

A certain young atheist (so the story runs) was friendly with a great astronomer. The astronomer had a beautiful model of the solar system. When you pressed a button the earth and the other planets swung round the central sun, and the moon round the earth.” That’s marvellous,” said the atheist when He saw the model, “who made that?” “No one,” said the astronomer. “How do you mean, no one? It didn’t just come by accident.” “Why not?” was the reply. “You think the real thing just happened without anyone making it-why shouldn’t the model just happen by accident?”

The point of the story is obvious: and that is the simple form of the argument for the existence of a Maker of the world. The ordinary man naturally accepts the reasoning, because it is straight commonsense. It is the sort of reasoning we accept in any other circumstances-there is no reason why it should not be valid in this one case.

Yet we are often told nowadays that the “scientific mind” does not accept the argument. So let us examine it in the light of cold reason, and see what is really behind it.

I. THE ARGUMENT FROM ORDER IN THE WORLD

The bare bones of the argument seem to be these: -Where there is design there must be a Designer-an intelligence which planned the design.

But in the world there are many examples of design.

Therefore the world had an intelligent Designer, whom we call God.

Let us examine these statements more closely.

Where there is design there must be a Designer. Here we must be careful. It could be argued that this begs the question. A design means something that has been designed: and if it has been designed, then of course it must have been designed by someone. But what you have to prove is that things in the world arereally “intelligently designed “

This is in fact what we aim to prove: but we must avoid wording the argument so as to leave ourselves open to this charge of begging the question. Our opponents will say that if by “design” you imply a previously intended purpose, then physical things are not designed. Ordinary people use words like “purpose,” “plan,” “finality,” when speaking about natural objects. All these words have an implication of intelligent purpose-but this is precisely what you have to prove. “The solar system is wonderfully planned,” thinks the ordinary man.”No,” says the scientist, “it is not planned-it simply is there and behaves in this way.” “The bird has wings in order to fly,” says the man in the street.

“No,” says the scientist, “the bird flies because it happens to have wings.”

In fact, a deep misunderstanding lies under this attitude. But we must take account of the scientific way of using words. We must not word our argument so that it seems open to such attacks, even if they are (as we believe) misdirected. So let us restate the argument, avoiding the use of such words as “design” or “ plan” or “purpose” or “finality” in the preliminary stages. We will only introduce them when their use has been shown to be right.

Thus. In the world there are many examples of order.

But Order of this kind demands an Intelligence to produce it.

Therefore the world was made by an Intelligent Orderer.

We must now explain both these premises.

A. IN THE WORLD THERE ARE MANY EXAMPLES OF ORDER

Everyone knows roughly what we mean by “Order”-some sort of recognizable symmetry or pattern, in contrast to confusion and chaos. Now, any number of examples of apparent order can be found in the physical world. We will not attempt to describe any of these in great detail-the main thing is to see the essentials clearly. We can draw our examples from three sources:

1. Life. Take something as humble as a common earthworm. It is composed of dozens of beautifully constructed segments, so that by “wriggling” the worm is able to move along. Under the microscope each segment is a miracle of orderly perfection, thousands of complex cells so adapted that each has its special function. And each function fits in with all the others, so that the total result is the worm’s ability to act as a single self-preserving unit.

What is true of the worm is true of all living things, great or small. The details can be found in any elementary Biology book. Two main impressions stand out from any study of life: the amazingly complicated arrangement of each small part: and the way each subordinate item fits in with all the other parts, so that the whole plant or animal is a single recognizable unity. Cells are grouped into tissues, tissues into organs, organs into systems: and the whole group of systems (skeletal, muscular, digestive, etc.) works, not haphazardly, but as a unit. The parts are subordinate to the functioning of the whole. This is the characteristic quality of life, that eye and ear, nerve, muscle and stomach are all coordinated with one another, and subordinated to the proper functioning of the whole. Those words “co-ordination” and “subordination” describe the living thing in terms of “Order” which is characteristic of life. In fact, for the biologist, the living thing is an organism, something “organized.”

2. The constitution of matter. At first sight rock or mud or lumps of mineral appear to be just haphazard lumps. But modern science has revealed the marvelously ordered pattern of what is sometimes called” dead matter.” Solids are built up of crystals, each one of its kind an identical pattern of atoms arranged, not higgledy-piggledy, but in an exact mathematical order. And theatom itself, which 19th century science looked on as the ultimate “lump” of matter, now turns out to be the first example of order. It is almost more an “arrangement” than a “thing”-a fixed pattern of forces, following fixed laws, which often can only be expressed mathematically. The orderly construction and behaviour of the atom, on which atomic science is built, is one of the great revelations of our day. And it is a revelation of ultimate “order” in Nature.

3. Finally we can consider the Universe as a whole. At the other end of the scale from the submicroscopic world of the atom, Astronomy has opened up a new Universe of a vastness that baffles human imagination. Now, although the heavenly bodies may seem to be moving to no apparent”purpose,” the point to notice is that they are all behaving in accordance with fixed laws. Everything in this vast universe (so far as observation can tell) is composed of the same sort of matter, constructed in the same sort of way, following the same laws. There is nothing haphazard about it-the movement of the heavenly bodies is in accordance with “laws,” that is to say, fixed patterns of behaviour which the mind is able to formulate in mathematical terms.

There, then, is the evidence for our first statement, that there are many examples of Order in the world. We have confined ourselves to stating facts, in a noncontroversial manner. We must avoid “interpreting” the facts at this stage by the use of any ambiguous terms like “purpose” or “finality,” or even the controversial word “design.” Thus we cannot be accused of begging the question.

B . OUR SECOND STATEMENT IS THAT ORDER OF THIS KIND DEMANDS AN INTELLIGENCE TO PRODUCE IT

Everyone instinctively feels that this statement is true as a general principle. Everyone acts upon it in practice. Uniformly regular pattern cannot be the result simply of Chance. Our two examples at the beginning (the piece of machinery and the model) show the normal working of our minds. We instinctively judge that real Order is not explained by Chance: it is the effect of rational purpose.

But why do we think so?

To answer this we must try and define” Order”: and this is not easy. In our definition we must avoid any terms which already include the idea of “intelligent purpose “, and so could be said to prejudice the issue. The kind of order we recognize in the physical world can be described as any “constant or regular pattern.” We find a number of things arranged so that they form a single unity, which the mind can recognize as an “orderly pattern.” The different things somehow form a sort of unity. Besides being their separate distinct selves, each has got its own place in a wider unit: each forms part of the general pattern. The simplest example of order shows this. Three lines forming a triangle are not just three lines: they are a triangle-and so on. There is an overall pattern in which everything has got its own place as part of a single whole. The existence of the pattern is not something which the mind creates: the mind recognizes it, because it is there to be recognized.

Now, the unity which constitutes order needs explanation just as much as the separate components. A crystal is not just a lot of molecules: it is a single regular pattern of molecules. A living organ is not just an agglomeration of cells: it is an “organism” which functions as a single unit.

This regular unity in complexity demands explanation. Chance explains what is merely haphazard: chance can even explain an occasional static pattern which seems to be orderly (like four stones accidentally lying in a square). But chance does not explain uniformly regular behaviour, or uniformly exact pattern.

What is behind this orderly arrangement if it is not just chance? Here we must notice that the sort of order we perceive in the world is in fact a “rational” order. By rational I mean it is something our mind recognizes as intelligible. The mind recognizes something akin to itself, something in accordance with reason. The constitution of matter, the movement of the heavenly bodies, the progress of life are all in accordance with fixed laws: and these laws are intelligible. Often enough they are mathematical formulae, which only a mind can express. The very possibility of science is based on the principle that the world is intelligible: that is to say, it is governed by laws which our minds can recognize as rational.

NOW WE ASK: WHERE DID THIS RATIONAL IMPRINT COME FROM? IT IS NO USE JUST SAYING IT’S THERE, AND LEAVING IT AT THAT. THAT IS SIMPLY REFUSING TO ANSWER THE QUESTION. OF COURSE YOU WILL NEVER GET TO GOD THAT WAY, ANY MORE THAN A DETECTIVE WOULD GET TO THE PERSON RESPONSIBLE IF HE OBSERVED THE FINGERPRINT BUT REFUSED TO ASK HOW IT GOT THERE. THE RATIONAL ORDER WE SEE IN THE WORLD IS THE IMPRINT OF MIND, JUST AS CLEARLY AS FINGERPRINTS ARE THE IMPRINT OF A HUMAN FINGER. WE MUST REPEAT THAT THE ORDER OF THE WORLD IS AN INTELLIGIBLE ORDER: IT IS GOVERNED BY LAWS WHICH OUR MINDS RECOGNIZE AS RATIONAL. NOW, THE ONLY SOURCE FROM WHICH ANYTHING INTELLIGIBLE OR RATIONAL CAN COME IS INTELLIGENCE OR REASON, THAT IS, MIND

Therefore behind this intelligible order of the physical Universe there is somewhere an Intelligence which is the cause of it. This Intelligence we call”God.” It is not our task here to investigate its Nature: that needs further enquiry. It is enough that the Order of the world comes from an Intelligent Orderer-which is where we started. Our original simple way of thinking was in fact correct. We were not just being misled by a false analogy from examples of human purpose- our minds were judging in accordance with right reason.

To sum up. A. In the world there are many examples of Order. We can draw our examples from living organisms, from the constitution of Matter, from the General Laws of the Universe. We simply state the facts, drawn from scientific textbooks: and carefully avoid using any language which could prejudice the answer.

B. ORDER OF THIS KIND DEMANDS AN INTELLIGENT ORDERER

Why? Because Order means unity in diversity-a number of different things forming a single regular pattern which can be recognized as a unit. Now, (1) Chance does not explain uniformly regular behaviour or uniformly regular pattern. And (2) the order we see in the world is one that our minds recognize as intelligible and in accordance with reason. But (3) the only ultimate source from which anything intelligible can come is Intelligence.

Therefore the Order of the world demands an Intelligence to produce it.

But if this is so obvious, why do many intelligent people nowadays refuse to accept the reasoning? Let us briefly consider the objections.

1. It is alleged that the argument begs the question. It presumes that the order we observe in the world has been “designed “for a” purpose. But Science does not recognize this idea of conscious “finality” (that is, purpose) in Nature.

Reply. Scientists often find this a real difficulty. The reason is partly because Science is not in fact concerned with the possibility of purpose: and partly (let us admit) because of the way the argument is sometimes presented. The popular presentation of the argument from “Design” is not really incorrect, but it does leave itself open to this accusation. We forestall this by avoiding all words like “design,” “adapted for a purpose,” “finality,” etc., because they do already suggest the idea of rationally intended purpose. Instead, we simply state the facts, as given to us by Science: and then show that these facts do, in the last resort, demand Intelligence, because rationally intelligible Order is the imprint of Mind. Therefore we conclude that it is in fact designed. We do not start by calling it Design.

2. The scientist may press His objection further. The Order of the Universe (He says) is simply due to the Laws of Nature. Things act in the same regular sort of way because they are that sort of thing. No “planning” or “arrangement” is required for this.

Reply. Certainly the order of the Universe is immediately due to these Laws of Nature: and it is the scientist’s job to discover them. But a Law of Nature simply means a fixed manner of behaviour. It is not an explanation of its own existence. We must go beyond this and ask, “what is the ultimate reason why Nature works according to fixed, regular and intelligibleLaw?” And our answer is that the only source of orderly intelligible pattern is Intelligence.

3. It is then argued that what we call intelligible order is simply the result of chance. This seems very feeble and unlikely at first sight. But it is supported in some quarters by mathematical arguments from the statistics of probability. The best way to explain this is the example of the Monkeys and the Typewriters. It is alleged that if a number of monkeys were left to hammer on typewriters for a sufficiently long time, they would eventually (on the law of averages) produce the typescript of the whole works of Shakespeare. Shakespeare’s plays are, after all, only one particular combination of the 26 letters of the alphabet: and, given sufficient time, this particular combination could appear by chance. So it is with the apparent order of the Universe: it is simply this particular chance combination which has occurred.

Reply. The normal man’s first reaction to this is undoubtedly one of incredulity. As an explanation of anything whatever the statement seems ludicrous-no one would dream of accepting it in any ordinary affairs of life. Imagine a newspaper editor offering this as an explanation of how a libellous article got into print. It would in fact knock the bottom out of what we call Inductive Reasoning-that is, reasoning from concrete facts to a rational explanation. It would be the end of Science.

This immediate answer from commonsense would satisfy most people-because it is commonsense. But we must examine the point fairly. The statistical argument is difficult to refute theoretically. Out of millions of possible combinations surely this one is just as possible, theoretically, as any other. Therefore, given sufficient time, it will (or at least it could) turn up.

Yet our minds hesitate to accept the possibility. Why?

The answer lies in the kind of order we are investigating. We are not dealing with a single static pattern, which could possibly come by chance. For example, you toss four coins in the air-they could fall in a mathematically perfect square. But the order we perceive in the world is not like that. It is a uniform pattern of consistently regular behaviour, due not to chance but (as Science insists) to the working of fixed and intelligible Law. Notice that we are really arguing from the laws themselves rather than from their effects. These may sometimes appear to be chaotic-tempests, earthquakes, the prolific and apparently “purposeless” spawning of life, and so on. But behind all this there is “order “-the rational intelligible order of the laws of Nature.

In brief: the Monkeys on Typewriters story might explain the printing of Shakespeare’s works, if anyone really cares to believe that. It does not explain our actual world of regular intelligible order, because it does not explain the orderly rule of law itself. It takes it for granted that the complicated machinery of the typewriter types when hit, and that monkeys are able to type. This is not just a smart retort it reminds us that behind what at times may seem to be chance results there is a fixed pattern of order. This is what needs explaining.

4. Evolution (it is said) has got rid of the idea that living organs are really arranged “for a purpose.” What happens is that random changes (called “mutations”) occur in the germ-plasm, giving rise to new forms. These forms are then weeded out by “Natural Selection,” so that the forms suitable to their environment survive, and others die out. Thus more perfect forms, “adapted” to their surroundings, appear simply by chance. There is no need for a Guiding Intelligence.

Reply. Science and Religion are dealing with two different questions, and the answer to one does not exclude the other. On the scientific level, adaption may explain how new species come into existence, just as power stations explain the existence of electric light. But you must first have your power station: and behind that there is Intelligence. Before Natural Selection can work at all on living things you must first have Life, with its complex organization and its mysterious laws. Biological evolution is only possible because the living organism has the power, the tendency within itself, to grow, to reproduce itself, to react from within to changing environment. But this is simply an example-and a most outstanding one-of what we call “Order.” What we are trying to explain is not the mechanics by which new species come into existence-that is the job of the scientist-but the orderly pattern which is characteristic of life, the fact that the living thing is an “organism.” Our argument (see p. 6) is drawn from the fact that life is an exampleof “order.”

There is no antagonism whatever between the principles of Evolution and the postulate of a guiding Intelligence behind them. The fact that London is lit by electricity produced by power stations does not disprove the truth that it is lit by man. Suppose a remarkable engineer could make a tricycle for His little boy, and could give it the power to adapt it to circumstances so that it could then develop into a bicycle, a motor-bicycle, a car and finally an airplane. That is Evolution: and if that is the way God has arranged things, it is more than ever an example of His marvellous power.

II. ARGUMENT FROM THE MORAL ORDER

Another fact of experience that points to God is our consciousness of right and wrong.

We are all aware of what is called “moral obligation.”

What does this really mean, and how does it point to the existence of God?

Certain actions, we feel, are “right,” others are “wrong.” What is right ought to be done, what is wrong ought not to be done. We may be physically free to do the things which we know are wrong -I am able to steal or cheat or lie-but because we see that they are wrong, or “bad,” we are conscious that we ought not to do them. This is what we mean by Moral Obligation-something which binds us (obligation), not physically but in the order of right and wrong (moral).

Now, this obligation is absolute. That is to say, it imposes itself on us without conditions: it is something which we must obey. Individuals at different times may vary as to the details of what is right and wrong: but the general principle, that what is right should be done and what is wrong should be avoided, is absolute. The obligation implied by the words “ought,” “must,” “should” is somehow final and unqualified.

Let us pursue this idea of an absolute obligation which imposes itself on our free will. The point about Moral Obligation is that this law of right and wrong is somehow superior to me personally. I am “bound” by it. But so is everyone else. If it binds me, it binds all mankind as well. Individuals or communities may at times reject it: but if they do they are “doing wrong.” They are doing something which they ought notto do, something which is “bad” in an absolute sense.

That is why we can speak of a “Law of Right and Wrong”- Law in the sense of an absolute standard of conduct which must be followed if we are to be “good” men. This Law is independent of the individual, who is bound by it whether He likes it or not. And it is independent of Society, since it binds mankind at large. We do not invent it. We are simply subject to it.

Furthermore, it is a Law of a higher order than the physical laws of Nature. It is what we call ethical or moral: that is to say it is concerned with the value of our free acts, in terms of what is right or wrong for man considered as a responsible individual. The moral law leaves us physically free, but reminds us that we are responsible individuals, so that our behaviour is subject to this higher standard of right and wrong. This has introduced us to the moral order, the sphere of Justice and Righteousness. This is something which is outside the province of physical Science. It cannot be determined by microscopes or mathematics.

And Moral Rightness is of a higher order than the physical laws of nature. Even the Scientist recognizes this nowadays. The atom-bomb has brought it home. Science discovers the laws of the atom: scientific technology makes the bomb. But all over the world the men responsible for this immense scientific advance are realising that there are questions of another order, moral questions, attached. They see that they cannot make bombs without considering how they will be used, and this is a question which disturbs their “conscience.” In this way they recognize that there is an absolute standard of right conduct which imposes itself even on the employment of Science.

So there are the facts from which we start. There is a Law, that is, an absolute standard of right and wrong, which imposes itself on men. This Law is independent of any individual, and is of a different and higher character than physical laws, since it deals with the moral rightness of our free behaviour.

Now we must ask, where does this absolute moral standard come from?

It is not just a product of physical matter, since (as we have seen) it is of a different order of things altogether and cannot be investigated by physical instruments. It is not simply a creation of the human mind, since (as we have seen) it is something superior to the individual. It binds us from outside and we are subject to it. Nor is it merely the general agreement of Society imposing itself on the individual. This undoubtedly has an influence on our particular judgments of what is right or wrong. But the fact that what is right ought to be done and what is wrong ought not to be done imposes itself on the whole of mankind. It is something absolute which is superior to all men. It simply is so.

There is in fact no explanation of this absolute obligation to do right, unless there is some Absolute Being, outside the physical universe, which is the Source of Moral Righteousness. And this Being, the Source of the moral order and therefore something moral and spiritual, is what we call God.

It is important to see what follows if we deny this. It would mean, quite simply, that there is no such thing as absolute right and wrong. Right would simply be what I like and wrong what I don’t like. But I could not impose my standard on anyone else. I may not like young thugs kicking an old man in the face. But if there is no absolute standard, which imposes itself from above on all men, then I cannot say it is absolutely wrong in itself.I can repeat that I don’t like it, and if I happen to be stronger I will stop it. But I cannot take up a high moral attitude and say, “This must be stopped because it is wrong.” Once I say that, then I am admitting that there is some source of absolute rightness outside me. And that means that there is some Being which is the source, because otherwise the “source” is Nothing.

People who have had some experience of real moral wickedness usually appreciate this argument. They see that there is no such thing as “morality” unless there is an absolute standard to which all men are subject. Also this line of thought brings us straight to the nobler attributes of God-God as the source of moral goodness, the “Just God,” as the Old Testament calls Him, who is also therefore the upholder and vindicator of right moral order.

To make sure that the argument is sound, we must consider some objections.

1. Agnostics claim that moral conscience is simply the product of education and environment. We are taught from childhood that some things are right and others wrong. This early training sticks with us all our lives, and is confirmed (or modified) by the pressure of public opinion. No mysterious outside source is required to explain this.

Reply. Of course the child has to be trained into judging what is right and wrong, and naturally His judgments on particular points will be influenced by this training. But the time comes eventually to everyone when He sees the difference between saying that eating peas with a knife is “wrong” and that cruelty is “wrong.” Then our argument comes in. He must ask: is cruelty absolutely wrong in itself, whatever people around me may say? If it is, then there is an absolute standard outside me, and the argument stands.

2. It is argued that morality is simply the standard that right-thinking men impose on themselves. I make up my own code, according to what seems to me best. I do not need to appeal to any outside source.

Reply. The immediate standard of right and wrong for the individual is, of course, His conscience, judging what is in accordance with man’s proper nature. But eventually we must come to the question: Is there an absolute standard which imposes itself on all men, and to which I must conform? Can we say that cruelty or treachery are bad in themselves, and are not just something that I prefer not to do? In fact men do realise that there is an absolute standard which binds all men, in accordance with which even the individual conscience can be right or wrong. And that is the starting point of our argument.

3. The argument really comes to this: “Where there is a Law there must be a Lawgiver. Therefore God exists as “Giver of the Moral Law.”But (it is argued) this is a misuse of the word “Law,” which is ambiguous. If by Law you mean a command issued by someone, then of course Law implies a Lawgiver. But to say the Moral Law is a command issued by someone begs the question. That is what you have to prove. “Law” here simply means a standard of conduct.

Reply. It is true that the argument is sometimes expressed in this way for the sake of brevity. In the long run it is in fact correct. But, just as in our first argument, we should avoid stating it in a way which sounds as if it was begging the question. The objection does not apply to the way in which we have actually stated it. We argue from the fact that there is a standard of conduct which imposes itself on our free will to the conclusion that there must be some source for this absolute standard of righteousness-a source superior to us or to the material universe. This standard can only come from a Being who is the source of moral goodness. And so God is in fact the ultimate Lawgiver.

ILL. GENERAL ARGUMENT FROM DEPENDENCE

All our arguments start from some fact of experience, which is then seen to point to the existence of God. Our final argument is drawn from a number of different aspects of the world around us. These all fall under the general heading that everything we perceive in the world is somehow dependent on other things.

We observe that things depend on other things for coming into existence. I received my existence from my parents, and my parents from theirs, and so on back and back. The same is true of inanimate things, rocks and metals, the sun and moon and stars.-Once in existence, we still depend for continuing in existence on any number of things, on the air around us, the food we absorb, the sunshine, the force of gravity, and so on.-Everything in the world, living and nonliving, is undergoing a continual process of change, passing from one state to another. For this it depends to some extent on the activity of other things acting upon it.

There is an even more fundamental side to all this, for those who can see it. Everything in the world is limited. That is to say, it is only one particular sort of thing, a tree, a cat, a flower, a man. You cannot say of anything that it is simply “being,” “existence” pure and simple-it is something which has a particular limited form of existence.

So in all these ways the world of experience is characterized by dependence and limitation. Everything is dependent on something to some extent, for receiving existence, for keeping in existence, for the continuous process of change which it undergoes. Everything is limited, retaining a precarious hold in time and space on one small and temporary aspect of existence.

Now, the argument is simply this. If everything was dependent, if everything was simply a receiver of existence, and there was nothing behind it all that was absolutely independent and gave existence to everything else, then nothing could ever have existed at all.

Why is this? Because there is simply no sufficient reason for anything to exist unless there is something which simply exists of itself, and is not dependent on anything else. If a thing depends on other things in any way, that means that it is not self-sufficient. It cannot therefore be the reason why it exists. If dependent things exist at all, they must eventually depend on something which does not depend on anything else, something which is completely independent. There must be something which is fully self-sufficient, and which is not affected by those imperfections of dependence and limitation which characterize everything in the world of experience.

What characteristics will such a being have? It must simply exist of itself You can say of itthat “it is because it is,” not because something else made it, or affects its existence in any way. It must be the ultimate source from which all other things receive existence, and on which they all eventually depend. And this Being which is absolutely independent and selfsufficient, which simply exists of itself and is the source of being for everything else, is what we call “God.” This is the same God who is the source of order in the world and the source of Moral Goodness: for these two facts of experience are themselves examples of a dependent and limited sort of perfection which does not explain itself.

This argument needs careful thought. It could be developed in greater detail. Illustrations can be used to help. All these dependent things would, for example, be like a chain hanging from nothing: or like a reservoir being constantly filled with water that came from nowhere. But these are only ways of helping us to see the main central idea. If you do not see it immediately, go back over it again. Think it over: and not only should you gradually see that it is so, but the tremendous implications of our state of dependence and insufficiency will dawn upon your mind more and more.

Each of us must put to himself the strange problem of His own existence. I am not the sufficient reason of my own existence. I have only a precarious hold on a limited part of existence which comes to me from outside myself. In a word, I am a creature, dependent for everything I have on my Creator. I bow down and adore God who made me.

Objection. 1 . I can see that something must exist simply of itself and independently. But why should this be anything outside of the physical universe? The fundamental matter and laws of the universe simply exist: and they are what everything depends on.

Reply. The last stage of the argument should be read again, carefully. What it shows is that something must exist which does not possess these imperfections of dependence and limitation which characterize everything material. As far as Science goes, physical matter and physical laws are simply “given”: they are there and are the data of experience. But physical matter and its laws are simply the world itself in its most imperfect state. This elementary “raw material” of the universe does not account for its own existence, because it bears precisely those signs of material limitation, and interdependence of one part on another, which demand further explanation. Protons and neutrons or other even more elementary energy-forms are not the absolute fully self-sufficient Being which is the ultimate explanation of why there is existence at all.

Objection. 2. If God made everything, who made God?

Reply. This question, which is often asked, shows that the problem has not been understood. We are not saying “everything which exists must be made by someone.” The whole point of the argument is that there must be something which is not made. That something is God, because everything in the world is limited and dependent, and therefore (we argue) it is “made.” God is not made because He is the One who “is because He is.”

* * *

There is one principle common to all these arguments: that whatever cannot account for its own existence must depend on something which can. We can call this the First Causeof everything else, meaning by “Cause” whatever is the reason for something else existing. We have avoided using the word “Cause,” or “Principle of Causality” in the actual arguments. This is because “Cause” and “Principle of Causality” have acquired a specialized meaning for scientists. We could quite reasonably say that whatever cannot account for its own existence requires a cause, and so the world itself must have a cause. This is a good clear way of saying it, and is quite correct. But unfortunately it is not accepted by people for whom “cause” simply means a physical antecedent. It is a matter of language and the different use of words-God is not a “cause” in the way scientists often use the word.

So we have avoided the word in the body of the arguments. We can get along without it. But there is no reason why we should not use it at the end, with the meaning it has borne for many hundred years.God is the “First Cause”: that is, the ultimate Necessary Being on whom everything depends for its existence.

Can we properly prove that God exists? Many people nowadays say not, even among those who do believe in God. Again I think the answer depends on what you mean by “prove.” In the sense that the arguments are so irresistible that it is impossible for anyone to hold the opposite-no. We cannot actually see God: and so men can always turn their minds away, or concentrate on doubts and difficulties. But if by “prove” we mean: is there evidence sufficient to convince the mind that God must exist if there is to be any reasonable explanation of the world? then the answer is, yes. Let the reader judge.

God has left the imprint of His Mind and Will on the world He made, there for all to see. “From the foundations of the world men have caught sight of His invisible nature, His eternal power and His divineness, as they are known through His creatures. Thus,”there is no excuse for them,” says St Paul. The world is not really intelligible unless there is a God who is the reason of it all. If you prefer to think that there is no reason for it all, and that the world is simply not intelligible, then there is nothing more to be said. But this attitude is, in the literal sense, not reasonable. If we accept the existence of God we are on the side of reason. We must never feel we are on the defensive. We hold the field.

The Exploits of Fr. William Doyle, S.J

INDEX

FR. WILLIAM DOYLE, S. J. NEVER ABANDONED THE HOPE OF LAYING DOWN HIS LIFE FOR CHRIST. IN 1914 HE WROTE TO A FRIEND: “WHAT I AM GOING TO TELL YOU NOW MAY PAIN YOU. I HAVE VOLUNTEERED FOR THE FRONT AS MILITARY CHAPLAIN, THOUGH PERHAPS I MAY NEVER BE SENT. NATURALLY, I HAVE LITTLE ATTRACTION FOR THE HARDSHIP AND SUFFERING THE LIFE WOULD MEAN; BUT IT IS A GLORIOUS CHANCE OF MAKING THE”OULD BODY” BEAR SOMETHING FOR CHRIST’S DEAR SAKE. HOWEVER, WHAT DECIDED ME IN THE END WAS A THOUGHT THAT FLASHED INTO MY MIND WHEN IN THE CHAPEL: THE THOUGHT THAT IF I GET KILLED I SHALL DIE A MARTYR OF CHARITY, AND SO THE LONGING OF MY HEART WILL BE GRATIFIED. THIS MUCH MY OFFERING MYSELF AS CHAPLAIN HAS DONE FOR ME: IT HAS MADE ME REALIZETHAT MY LIFE MAY BE VERY SHORT AND THAT I MUST DO ALL I CAN FOR JESUS NOW.”

A similar thought occurs in his private diary under next day’s date (10th November, 1914): “My offering myself as war chaplain to the Provincial has had a wonderful effect on me. I long to go and shed my blood for Jesus and, if He wills it, to die a martyr of charity. The thought that at any moment I may be called to the Front, perhaps to die, has roused a great desire to do all I can while I have life. I feel great strength to make any sacrifice and little difficulty in doing so. I may not have long now to prove my love for Jesus.”

He waited a year before the sacrifice was asked of him. On 15th November, 1915, he makes this brief entry

“Received my appointment from the War Office as chaplain to the 16th Division. Fiat voluntas Tua.” “What the future has in store I know not,” he writes to a correspondent on the same day; “but I have given Jesus all to dispose of as He sees best. My heart is full of gratitude to Him for giving me this chance of being really generous and of leading a life that will be truly crucified.”

A few letters survive to tell us his impressions of camp life. On 15thDecember, 1915, he writes: “I cannot say I am quite in love with camp life, which in many respects is very repellent. But even in these disagreeable things there is a joy and secret pleasure, since it means all the more merit and, let us hope, a richer harvest of souls. My eyes have been opened still more to the awful godlessness of the world and the need, the immense need, there is for us who owe so much to our Blessed Lord to try and make up to Him for all this by greater love and generosity. It will never equal, I fear, the worldly generosity of these men. For example, this morning a regiment marched out of camp at 5 A.M. in torrents of rain merely for exercise. When they return tonight, they will dry their wet underclothing by sleeping in them!”

On NewYear’s Day Fr. Doyle with his regiment (8th Royal Irish Fusiliers) moved from Whitely Camp to Borden Camp. The change was welcome to him for the reason given in the following letter four days later:

“Before I thank you for your letter, which was doubly welcome in my exile, I want to tell you the New Year’s gift our Lord gave me. We had an awful time of storm and rain coming over here, but the first thing I saw on reaching the barrack square was a hut marked R.C. Church. I took it for granted that it was just the usual hut set apart for Sunday Mass, but on trying the door you can imagine my delight to find a small but beautifully furnished chapel with a lamp burning before the altar, which made my heart leap with joy.

“I felt as if all the hardships of my life had vanished, for I had found Him again Who makes the hard things easy and the bitter things sweet. What did anything matter now since I could go and tell Him all about it and get help and consolation from Jesus? I really think that this month’s privation of the Blessed Sacrament has taught me the true value of the Tabernacle. But His goodness did not stop here; the other priest who had the key gave it to me without my even suggesting it, so I can go to Him at any hour of the day or night if I want to; do you think I shall? Is He not good to have put the little chapel where He did, as it might have been in any other part of the camp, miles away? I do not think there is a happier man in England than I today. I am writing this, sitting on a piece of wood-no chairs in our quarter. There are about 1,200 Catholics in our brigade now. I get a few “big fish” each evening.”

The reference to soul-fishing will remind us that his life was by no means contemplative at this time, except in so far as he was able to be Martha by day and Mary by night. His work was very arduous and grew more so as the day of departure drew near. It was the last great chance for the soul of many an Irish lad. “There is nothing like the prospect of a German shell,” wrote Fr. Doyle, “for putting the fear of God into one; and many an old rooster whom no mission ever moved has been blown out of his nest by the news of our departure.” “I cannot help thinking,” he adds, “that when the final reckoning day comes, in spite of all the misery and suffering caused, this war will turn out to have been the biggest act of God’s love, saving the souls of scores of poor fellows, certainly among my men.” “We are having desperate work these days,” he told a friend. (14thFebruary, 1916.) “The good God is simply pouring out His grace on these poor fellows and reconciling them before they die. It has to be quick work, no time for “trimmings.” I have positively a pain in my arm giving Absolution and Communions in the morning. I was able to manage Exposition all day last Sunday, which brought in many an erring sheep. I realise that from this day on my life will be a martyrdom in a way I never thought of. I have got to love my brave lads almost like my own brothers and sisters. They are all so wild and reckless, and at the same time so full of faith and love of God and His blessed Mother. Yet soon I shall have to see the majority of them blown to bits, torn and mangled out of shape. Our brigade is leaving tomorrow for France. I am waiting till Friday night, so as to get in all the confessions I can. Do pray I may be able to say daily Mass. I shall carry everything necessary on my back, and so may manage the Holy Sacrifice in the train. Whilst here I have given Jesus two things which He often asked, but which I refused through “prudence and a fear of interfering with important work”-a very old trick of the devil, which my eyes are open to see now. The first was sometimes to fast strictly all day-once I did a hard day’s work, ending up with a fifteen miles” march, on a cup of tea. The second was to spend the whole night in prayer. Including confessions, I was able one night to pass eleven hours with Jesus-telling Him every five minutes I was going after five more.”

On 17th February he received unexpected orders to proceed overseas. Of the crossing itself he wrote to his father a brief description, which indirectly reveals more characteristic traits. One passage may be quoted: “The moon was surrounded by a magnificent halo or crown, which I promptly bagged for myself. I was fortunately able to get some tea on shore, for though they served us out with lifebelts, nothing in the shape of a dinner or rations came along. There were only a few bunks, which I left to the other officers, and as there was no place to sleep except the stoke-hole, which I was not having this journey, I picked a comfortable(?) corner on deck and prepared for a snooze, when alas! down came the rain. Providence, however, came to my rescue: the second engineer, passing by, very kindly offered me a share of his cabin, and I slept like a top on the settee. He was awfully kind to me, even offering me a share of his bunk, and this morning he had hot coffee and buns ready when I awoke, but as I was hoping to be able to celebrate Mass on shore, I had to postpone that luxury. At present, there seems little prospect of either Mass or breakfast, as it is now nine and we have been lying off shore since four this morning. 1.30 P.M. Just landed. Seeing there was no chance for Mass I rooted up a Chinaman and secured a welcome cup of tea; he brought me also a plate of cold liver, and potatoes, likewise cold-a dish to tempt one’s appetite after a Channel crossing!”

After a tiresome day at Havre, the rain never for a moment ceasing, the men entrained for their base. And after twentyone and a half hours in the train, there was a march of twelve miles. “I shall not try to describe that march,” writes Fr. Doyle, “but you can gather what it was, with strong, big men falling down now and then from sheer exhaustion. Under other circumstances I should not have minded the tramp, but I was near the end of my tether, and was carrying a great coat, pack and waterbottle.” After about two hours” plodding, an officer, seeing Fr. Doyle’s exhaustion, induced him to get on an artillery limber. It was only when the waggons stopped at 2 A.M., that he discovered he was separated from the infantry, and his regiment had gone to its unknown destination; he was lost. After three hours” sleep under a cart, he walked on for a couple of miles and found himself in a good-sized town. Though except for two sandwiches he had not tasted food for thirty-five hours, he deferred breakfast till he could say Mass. Then finding there were no passenger trains, he boarded a slowly-moving goods train and thus, sitting on uncomfortable explosive shells, he was taken a good way on his journey. Finally, a Catholic officer whom he chanced to meet, motored him to his destination-Amettes, the birthplace of St. Benedict Joseph Labre, to whom, since his college days, he had a special devotion. Fr. Doyle had a comfortable room in the little convent. Since he had a bad chill as the result of his three nights” exposure, he was lucky to have come under the kindly care of the good Sisters.

On 26th February the men left their comparatively snug quarters and began moving in easy stages towards the trenches. The grim reality of war grew nearer.

It was not long before he had an experience of real danger. On Sunday, 5th March, he said Mass for the 8th Fusiliers, who were stationed at Noeux-lesMines. After he had finished (about 9 o‘clock) he mounted his bicycle in order to go to the 8th Inniskillings, of whom he also had charge, and say Mass at eleven for them. They were stationed about four miles away near the ruined village of Mazingarbe. Fr. Doyle may be left to describe his adventure in his own words.

“On the way I noticed that heavy firing was going on ahead, but it was only when I reached a bend in the road that I realised the enemy were actually shelling the very spot I had to pass. Some soldiers stopped me, saying it was dangerous to go on. At the moment I was wondering what had become of the side of a vacant house which had suddenly vanished in a cloud of smoke, and I was painfully aware of the proximity of high-explosive shells.

“Here was a fix! I knew my regiment was waiting in the village for Mass, and also that half of them were going to the trenches that afternoon for the first time; if I did not turn up they would lose Confession and Holy Communion, but the only way to reach them was by the shell-swept road. What really decided me was the thought that I was carrying the Blessed Sacrament, and I felt that, having our Lord Himself with me, no harm could possibly come to me. I mounted the bicycle and faced the music. I don’t want you to think me very brave and courageous, for I confess I felt horribly afraid; it was my baptism of fire, and one needs to grow accustomed to the sound of bursting shells. Just then I was wishing my regiment in Jericho, and every German gun at the bottom of the Red Sea, or any other hot place. Call it a miracle if you will, but the moment I turned the comer, the guns ceased firing, and not a shell fell till I was safely in the village Church. My confidence in God’s protection was not misplaced. Naturally, I did not know this was going to happen, and it was anything but pleasant riding down the last stretch of road, listening for the scream of the coming shell. Have you ever had a nightmare in which you were pursued by ten mad bulls, while the faster you tried to run, the more your feet stuck in the mud? These were just my feelings as I pedalled down that blessed road which seemed to grow longer and longer the farther I went.

“At last I turned the comer, reached the Church, and had just begun Mass when down came the hail of shells once more. One or two must have burst very dose, judging by the way the walls shook, but I felt quite happy and quite ready to be blown from the altar, for I saw a fine plump Frenchwoman just behind me; she might have been killed, but I was quite safe!”

This is the description which Fr. Doyle gave of some of his activities on Sunday, 19th March

“I started at seven in the morning by giving Holy Communion to the men whose Confessions I had heard the previous evening, a goodly number I am glad to say. This was followed by a number of Confessions in French for the townspeople, and some French soldiers. I am quite ready to face any language at the present moment! This brought me up to nine, when my men had Mass Parade.

“By chance the whole regiment was in the village, which meant of course that the Church would not hold them, so I had arranged for Mass in the open. The spot I selected was a large courtyard in front of the school-whereby hangs a tale. Armed with the Mayor’s permission, I approached the schoolmaster for his sanction, and I must say found him most obliging and very gracious, even helping to get things ready. It was only afterwards that I discovered that this man was a red-hot anticlerical, anti-everything that was good, in fact, quite a bad lot; so that my request was about the same as asking the Grand Master of the Orange Lodge in Belfast for permission to have Mass in his hall! He was so staggered, I suppose, by my innocent request, that he could not find words to refuse. But the good folk of the town are wild with delight, and immensely tickled by the idea of Mass in the porch of his school above all people; needless to say, they have rubbed it into him well.

“I had never celebrated Mass in the open before, and I think the men were as much impressed as I was. It was a glorious morning, with just a sufficient spice of danger to give the necessary warlike touch to the picture by the presence of a German aeroplane scouting near at hand. I was a wee bit anxious lest a bomb might come down in the middle of the men, but I fancy our unwelcome visitor had quite enough to do dodging the shells from our guns which kept booming all during Mass; besides, I felt confident that for once our guardian angels would do their duty and protect us all till Mass was over.

“When I finished breakfast, I found a big number of men waiting for Confession. I gave them Communion as well, though they were not fasting, as they were going to the trenches that evening and being in danger of death could receive the Blessed Sacrament as Viaticum. It was the last Communion for many poor fellows who, I trust, are praying for me in Heaven now.

“Having polished off all who came to the Church, I made a raid on the men’s billets, and spent a few hours in stables, barns, in fact anywhere, shriving the remainder, who gladly availed themselves of the chance of settling up accounts before they started for the front. The harvest, thank God, was good and consoling. Just before they marched at six in the evening, I gave the whole regiment-the Catholics, at least-a General Absolution. So the men went off in the best of spirits, light of heart with the joy of a good conscience. “Goodbye, Father,” one shouted, “we are ready to meet the divilhimself now!”

“I dined with the two transport officers who bring up the rations and ammunition to the soldiers, and then mounted my horse and rode up to Headquarters at the communication trenches.

“I have a good old beast of a mare, quiet but with plenty of pace, who simply turns up her nose at a bursting shell with supreme contempt. All went well till suddenly six of our guns, hidden by the roadside, went off with a bang. This was not playing the game, and Flunkibrandos (the mare’s name) stopped dead, or rather reversed engines, and began to go astern. I tried to think of all the manoeuvres, and was devoutedly wishing I had a bridle tied to her tail, for Flunki backed and backed until she pulled up with a bump against a brick wall which the Germans had kindly spared-one of the few, it must be confessed, left in that town; then she sailed ahead again as if nothing had happened. I am bringing home a brick of that wall, for if it had not been there, I certainly should be half way across Germany now.

“My work done, I mounted again and made for home. It was rather weird riding past the shattered houses in the dark, with the ping of a stray bullet to make you uncomfortable, while every few minutes a brilliant star-shell would burst overhead and the guns spat viciously at each other. I reached my billet and tumbled in just as the clock struck midnight.”

Fr. Doyle was chaplain to half the 49th Brigade, that is, to two regiments (the 8th Royal Irish Fusiliers and Royal Inniskilling Fusiliers), which were billeted four or five miles apart. In order to train the newly arrived men to their work, they were sent to hold the trenches with other troops. Hence one half of each regiment remained behind, while the other was at the firing line. The chaplain’s position was therefore, rather difficult; for he could not be at the dressing station to look after the wounded and at the same time minister to the men at the base. “Up to this,” he says, “I stayed behind, as practically nothing can be done in the trenches themselves, while at the rear I had my hands full, with just an odd visit to my absent men to cheer them up in their mud and slush.”

But at 6 P.M. on 31st March the whole four regiments of the 49th Brigade left their quarters in Noeux-les-Mines and went forward to the firing line. On this occasion Fr. Doyle accompanied the men. Nearly all had been to Holy Communion that morning or the morning before, and they now received General Absolution. The town of Loos was held in a salient, and as the road to it was commanded by the German guns, it couldbe entered only at night. “ Single file, no smoking,” came the order as the danger zone was reached. After another mile came a second order, “Men will advance by twos, twenty paces apart.” Stray bullets were buzzing about, fortunately no shells. Suddenly down the line came the command, “Every man lie flat.” The road was being swept by a machine gun. After the leaden hail had stopped, the men moved on again into the town-where the Staff remained-and then out to man the trenches.

That night Fr. Doyle slept for the first time in a dugout. “I had rather an amusing experience the first night I spent in the trenches,” he writes. “On arriving here, I found two officers in the dug-out which was intended for me; but as they were leaving next day I did not care to evict them. After some search I came across an unoccupied glorified rabbit-hole-any port in a storm. It was not too inviting, looking rather damp; but I got a trench board which made a capital foundation for a bed, and spread my sleeping-bag over it. Let me say here that I do not recommend a trench board for a bed. It is simply a kind of ladder with flat steps which is laid at the bottom of the trench; but being very narrow it requires great skill to prevent yourself from rolling off during the night. In addition, the sharp edges of the steps have a trick of cutting into your back and ribs, making you feel in the morning as if you had been at Donnybrook fair the night before. In spite of it all I slept soundly till I was awakened by feeling a huge rat sitting on my chest. The rats round here beat anything I have ever seen. If I told you they were as big as sheep you would scarcely believe me, so let me say a lamb; in any case, this fellow was a whopper, weighing fully seven pounds as I proved afterwards. I thought first of all that “I had them again,” but as I gradually awoke more fully I felt his weight and could dimly see the black outline. Before I quite realised what was happening, a warm, soft tongue began to lick my face, and I recognised my old friend-the dog!”

Some further references to this dugout are not without humour and horror. “When introducing you to my friends the rats,” he writes, “I made a serious omission in forgetting another class of most attentive friends, smaller in size but much more active in a close personal way; they are not called teas, but something very like that. You must remember that the unwashed German lived in our cellar for months, and, departing, left behind him a large number of small fierce warriors from across the Rhine. Next came the French. There is not much picking on a Frenchman; so it is small wonder that when they in turn departed, their small companions remained in hope of better things to come. Tommy Atkins then appeared and, not to be outdone, left a legacy also. Fortunately, these visitors were natives of different countries, speaking different tongues; otherwise, had they been friends and united in policy, we should have been literally pulled out of bed.” In a letter written in the following January, he mentions some more gruesome details. “One end of the dug-out had been blown in by a big shell, burying two men whom it was impossible to get out; and we lived at the other. They, poor chaps, were covered with clay, but not deep enough to keep out the smell of decaying bodies-which did not help one’s appetite at meal-time. Then when your nerves were more jumpy than usual, you could swear you saw the dead man’s boot moving as if he were alive.”

Next morning, which he notes as the twenty-fifth anniversary of his entrance into the Society, he emerged to view the havoc and ruin of what was once a town. He discovered a tiny wayside chapel of Our Lady of Consolation with the altar still standing; and here amid the inferno of shot and shell he celebrated Mass.

That afternoon he had “the most exciting experience of his whole life.” The doctor and himself set out to visit the Field Ambulance Station at the other end of the town, where the wounded were sent at night from the Regimental Aid Post. Without knowing it, they walked along a road by broad daylight in full view of the German trenches and escaped only by a miracle. Fr. Doyle joined some officers in the cellar, who were having a tea party enlivened by a gramophone. “McCormack,” says Fr. Doyle, “had just finished the last bars of “She is far from the Land,” which brought back old memories, when suddenly Berths Krupp opened her mouth in a most unladylike way, let out a screech which you could hear in Dublin, and spat a huge shell right into our courtyard. It was a six-inch gun, so the artillery officer who was present said; but I am certain that sixty inches would be nearer the mark. I shall not easily forget the roar as the shell burst only a few feet from where we sat. A moment later there was a deafening crash; a second shell had hit what was left of the upper wall and brought it tumbling down, half smothering us with the dust that came through the open slit which served as window and chimney combined. Not bad shooting so far. The next shot went wide, but did useful work among the stables and out-houses. Then came a fearful dull thud: the walls quivered, I was nearly knocked off my chair by the concussion, while the cup in the officer’s hand sitting next me was sent flying-a shell had landed clean on top of our cellar. That was too much for the rats; out they came from hole and corner, scores of them, and scurried for the open; evidently they thought our poor ship was in a bad way. For once I said a fervent prayer for the Germans who had formerly occupied the house. They had done their work well, propping up the cellar roof with huge beams; otherwise we must have all been buried in the ruins. Shell after shell kept raining down, six at least falling on our heads. We were perfectly safe as the battered-in roof and walls on top of our cellar made a natural dug-out; but we all knew that there was just the chance of a shell coming through and possibly smashing the cup and gramophone. It was an exciting half-hour, one that none of our party has any great anxiety to repeat for some time at least.” “As we went home in the dusk of the evening,” he adds, “I came to the conclusion that there are worse places to live in than poor old Ireland, and also that I had quite enough thrills for one day.”

It was not to be, however, for still another adventure awaited him. On returning, he found that a dead man had been brought in for burial. “The cemetery, part of a field, was outside the town in the open country, so exposed to shell and rifle fire that it could not be approached by day. As soon as it was dark we carried the poor fellow out on a stretcher, just as he had fallen, and as quietly as we could, began to dig the grave. It was weird. We were standing in front of the German trenches on two sides, though a fair distance away, and every now and then a star-shell went up which we felt certain would reveal our presence to the enemy. I put my Ritual in the bottom of my hat and with the aid of an electric torch read the burial service, while the men screened the light with their caps, for a single flash would have turned the machine guns on us. I cannot say if we were seen or not, but all the time bullets came whizzing by, though more than likely stray ones and not aimed at us. Once I had to get the men to lie down as things were rather warm; but somehow, I felt quite safe, as if the dead soldier’s guardian angel was sheltering us from all danger, till the poor dust was laid to rest. It was my first war burial though assuredly not my last. May God rest his soul, and comfort those left to mourn him.”

The burials soon became more frequent, and Fr. Doyle had many gruesome experiences Thus, a few days later two bodies fell to bits when lifted off the stretcher and he had to shovel the remains of one poor fellow into the grave-a task which taxed his endurance. On 1st April he had a rather vivid experience of the horrors of war:

“Taking a short cut across country to our lines, I found myself on the first battle-field of Loos, the place where the French had made their attack. For some reason or other this part of the ground has not been cleared, and it remains more or less at it was the morning after the fight. I had to pick my steps, for numbers of unexploded shells, bombs and grenades lay all round. The ground was littered with broken rifles, torn uniforms, packs, etc., just as the men had flung them aside charging the German trenches. Almost the first thing I saw was a human head torn from the trunk, though there was no sign of the body. The soldiers had been buried on the spot they fell; that is, if you can call burial, hastily throwing a few shovelfuls of clay on the corpses: there was little time, I fancy, for digging graves, and in war there is not much thought or sentiment for the slain. As I walked along, I wondered had they made certain each man was really dead. One poor fellow had been buried, surely, before the breath had left his body, for there was every sign of a last struggle and one arm was thrust out from its shroud of clay. A large mound caught my eye. Four pairs of feet were sticking out, one a German, judging by his boots, and three Frenchmen-friend and foe are sleeping their long last sleep in peace together. They were decently covered compared with the next I saw; a handful of earth covered the wasted body, but the legs and arms and head were exposed to view. He seemed quite a young lad, with fair, almost golden hair. “An unknown soldier” was all the rough wooden cross over him told me about him; but I thought of the sorrowing mother, far away, thinking of her boy who was “missing,” and hoping against hope that he might one day come back. Thank God, Heaven one day will reunite them both. I found a shovel near at hand, and after a couple of hours” stiff work was able to cover the bodies decently, so that on earth at least they might rest in peace.”

These few weeks in Loos were a time of great strain; but, of course, there were intermissions. After three days and nights in the front trench the men moved back again for three days to a village out of range of rifle fire, though not immune from occasional shells. After this triduum of comparative rest they moved up to the support trench, and then three days later back once more in Loos. “It was a memorable six days for us all,” he writes on 16thApril, “living day and night literally face to face with death at every moment. When I left my dug-out to go up or down the street, which I had to do scores of times daily, I never knew if I should reach the end of it without being hit by a bullet or a piece of shell; and in the comparative safety of the cellar, at meals or in bed, there was always the pleasant prospect of being blown to bits or buried alive if the shell came in a certain direction. The life was a big strain on the nerves, for it does make one creepy-as happened to myself yesterday-to hear the rattle of shell splinters on the walls on either side of the road, almost to feel the thud of a nice jagged lump right behind and to see another fragment go hopping off the road a few yards in front. Why, Daniel in the lions” den had a happy time compared to a walk through the main street of Loos.” The secret of his confidence can be guessed from the description of the Cross of Loos which he saw on 3rd April. “I had an opportunity, a rare one, thanks to the fog, of examining closely in daylight one of the wonders of the war, the famous Crucifix or Calvary of Loos. This is a very large cross standing on a mound in a most exposed position, the centre of fierce fighting. One of the four trees standing by it has been torn up by a shell, the branches of the others smashed to bits, a tombstone at its feet lies broken in half and the houses on either aide are a heap of ruins. But neither cross nor figure has been touched. I looked closely and could not see even one bullet hole. Surely if the Almighty can protect the image of His Son, it will be no great difficulty to guard His priest also, as indeed He has done in a wonderful way.”

Fr. Doyle was curé of this parish of trenches, his church being his dug-out situated in the support trench near the doctor’s dressing-station. He also humorously included innumerable rats, insects and vermin among his parishioners! Of his men he was really proud. “Our poor lads are just grand,” he says. “They curse like troopers all the day, they give the Germans hell, purgatory and heaven all combined at night, and next morning come kneeling in the mud for Mass and Holy Communion when they get a chance; and they beam all over with genuine pleasure when their Padre comes past their dugout or meets them in the trench.” It may be added that he was often in the front trench to encourage and bless the rain-sodden, mud-stained, weary watchers. On Easter Sunday, 23rd April, he celebrated his first Mass in the trenches. He had quite a congregation, chiefly of officers, as the men were unable to leave their posts. “My church was a bit of a trench,” he writes, “the altar a pile of sandbags. Though we had to stand deep in mud, not knowing the moment a sudden call to arms would come, many a fervent prayer went up to heaven that morning.”

On the evening of Wednesday, 26th April, the Germans began a slight bombardment which was the prelude to a formidable attack. It was Fr. Doyle’s first experience of a battle and proved near being his last. Having met an officer who, though only slightly scratched, was badly shaken by an exploding shell, he brought him to his dugout, tended him and made him sleep in his own bunk. Later on when he himself tried to sleep, he found he could not do so as the night was cold and he had given up his own blanket. His subsequent adventures may be best given in the words of his own vivid narrative.

“About four o‘clock the thought struck me that it would be a good thing to walk back to the village to warm myself and say an early Mass for the nuns, who usually have to wait hours for some chaplain to turn up. They have been very kind to me, and I was glad of this chance of doing this little service to them. The village is about two miles behind our trench, in such a position that one can leave cover with perfect safety and walk there across the fields. As I left the trench about 4.45, the sun was just rising. It was a perfect morning with a gentle breeze blowing. Now and again came the crack of a rifle, but all was unusually calm and still ; little did I think of the deadly storm about to burst and hurry so many brave men into eternity. I had just reached a point half way between our trenches and the village when I heard behind me the deep boom of a German gun quickly followed by a dozen others. In a moment our gunners replied and before I could well realise what was taking place, the air was alive with shells. At first I thought it was just a bit of the usual “good-morning greeting” and that after ten minutes” artillery “strafe” all would be quiet once more. But I soon saw this was a serious business, for gun after gun, and battery after battery, was rapidly coming into action, until at the lowest number 500 guns were roaring all round me. It was a magnificent if terrifying sight. The ground fairly shook with the roar of the guns, for the “heavies” now had taken up the challenge, and all round the horizon I could see the clouds of smoke and dust from the bursting shells as both sides kept searching for their opponents” hidden cannon.

“There I stood in the very centre of the battle, the one man of all the thousands engaged who was absolutely safe, for I was away from the trenches, there were no guns or troops near me to draw fire, and though thousands of shells went over my head, not even a splinter fell near me. I felt that the good God had quietly “dumped” me there till all danger had passed.

“After a while, seeing that this heavy shelling meant an attack of some kind, and that soon many a dying man would need my help, I turned round and made my way towards the ambulance station. As I approached the trenches I noticed the smoke from the bursting shells, which was hanging thickly over them, was being driven towards me across the fields. For once, I said to myself, I am going to smell the smoke of real battle, and I stepped out quite gaily the next moment I had turned and was running back for my life-the Germans had started a poison-gas attack which I had mistaken for shell smoke, and I had walked straight into it!

“After about 20 yards I stopped to see what was to be done, for I knew it was useless to try and escape by running. I saw (assuredly again providentially) that I had struck the extreme edge of the gas and also that the wind was blowing it away to my left. A hundred yards in the opposite direction, and I was safe.

“I must confess for a moment I got a shock, as a gas attack was the very last thing I was thinking about-in fact, we thought the Germans had given it up. Fortunately, too, I had not forgotten the old days of the chemistry room at Ratcliffe College and its “stink bottles,” so I knew at the first whiff it was chlorine gas, and time for this child to make tracks.

“But I was not yet out of the wood. Even as I was congratulating myself on my good fortune, I saw both right and left of where I stood the green wave of a second gas attack rolling towards me like some huge spectre, stretching out its ghostly arms. As I saw it coming, my heart event out to God in one fervent act of gratitude for His goodness to me. As probably you know, we all carry “smoke helmets” slung over our shoulders in a case, to be used against a gas attack. That morning as I was leaving my dug-out I threw my helmet aside. I had a fairly long walk before me, the helmet is a bit heavy on a hot day, and, as I said, German gas was most unlikely. So I made up my mind to leave it behind. In view of what happened, it may appear imagination now, but a voice seemed to whisper loudly in my ear: “Take your helmet with you; don’t leave without it.” I turned back and slung it over my shoulder. Surely it was the warning voice of my guardian angel, for if I had not done so, you would never have had this letter.

“I wonder can you picture my feelings at this moment? Here was death in its most awful form sweeping down towards me; thank God I had the one thing which could save me, but with a carelessness for which I ought to be scourged, I had never tried the helmet on, and did not know if it were in working order. In theory, with the helmet on I was absolutely safe, but it was an anxious moment waiting for the scorching test, and to make things more horrible, I was absolutely alone. But I had the companionship of One who sustained me in the hour of trial, and kneeling down I took the Pyx from my pocket, and received the Blessed Eucharist as Viaticum. I had not a moment to spare, and had my helmet just fixed when I was buried in a thick green fog of poison gas. In a few moments my confidence returned, for the helmet worked perfectly, and I found I was able to breathe without any ill effects from the gas.

“By the time I got down to the dressing-station the guns had ceased fire, the gas was blown away, and the sun was shining in a cloudless sky. Already a stream of wounded was coming in, and I soon had my hands full, when an urgent message reached me from the front trench. A poor fellow had been desperately wounded, a bullet had cut him like a knife across the stomach, with results you can best imagine. He was told he had only a few minutes to live, and asked if they could do anything for him. “I have only one wish before I die,” he answered; “could you possibly get me Fr. Doyle ? I”11 go happy then.” It was hard work to reach him, as parts of the communication trench were knee deep in water and thick mud. Then I was misdirected and sent in the wrong direction, but I kept on praying I might be in time, and at last found the dying man still breathing and conscious. The look of joy, which lit up his face when I knelt beside him, was reward enough for the effort I had made. I gave him Absolution and anointed him before he died, but occupied as I was I did not notice that a third gas attack had begun. Before I could get my helmet out and on, I had swallowed a couple of mouthfuls, which did me no serious harm beyond making me feel rather sick and weak.

“As I made my way slowly up the trench, feeling altogether “a poor thing,” I stumbled across a young officer who had been badly gassed. He had got his helmet on, but was coughing and choking in a terrible way. “For God’s sake,” he cried, “help me to tear off this helmet-I can’t breathe, I”m dying.” I saw if I left him the end would not be far; so catching hold of him, I half carried, half dragged him up the trench to the medical aid post. I shall never forget that ten minutes, it seemed hours. I seemed to have lost all my strength: struggling with him to prevent him killing himself by tearing off his helmet made me forget almost how to breathe through mine. I was almost stifled, though safe from gas, while the perspiration simply poured from my forehead. I could do nothing but pray for help, and set my teeth, for if I once let go, he was a dead man. Thank God, we both at last got to the aid post, and I had the happiness of seeing him in the evening out of danger, though naturally still weak.

“Fortunately this last attack was short and light, so that I was able to take off my helmet, and after a cup of tea was all right. The best proof I can give you of this lies in the fact that I have since put in three of the hardest days” work of my life, which I could not possibly have done had I been really gassed, as its first effect is to leave one as helpless as a child.”

This last remark was made in order to relieve his father’s anxiety. But it was, to say the least, a meagre summary of his heroic work, and almost miraculous escape. A year later he lifted the veil somewhat. “I have never told you,” he then confessed, “the whole story of that memorable April morning or the repetition of it the following day, or how when I was lying on the stretcher going to “peg out,” as the doctor believed, God gave me back my strength and energy in a way which was nothing short of a miracle, to help many a poor fellow to die in peace, and perhaps to open the gates of heaven to not a few.

“I had come through the three attacks without ill results, though having been unexpectedly caught by the last one, as I was anointing a dying man and did not see the poisonous fumes coming, I had swallowed some of the gas before I could get my helmet on. It was nothing very serious, but left me rather weak and washy. There was little time to think of that, for wounded and dying were lying all along the trenches, and I was the only priest on that section at the time.

“The fumes had quite blown away, but a good deal of the gas, being of a heavy nature, had sunk down to the bottom of the trench, and gathered under the duck-boards or wooden flooring. It was impossible to do one’s work with the gas helmet on, and so, as I knelt down to absolve or anoint man after man for the greater part of that day, I had to inhale the chlorine fumes till I had nearly enough gas in my poor inside to inflate a German sausage balloon.

“I did not then know that when a man is gassed his only chance (and a poor one at that) is to lie perfectly still to give the heart a chance of fighting its foe. In happy ignorance of my real state, I covered mile after mile of those trenches until at last in the evening, when the work was done, I was able to rejoin my battalion in a village close to the Line.

“It was only then that I began to realise that I felt “rotten bad,” as schoolboys say. I remember the doctor, who was a great friend of mine, feeling my pulse and shaking his head as he put me lying in a corner of the shattered house, and then he sat beside me for hours with a kindness I can never forget. He told me afterwards he was sure I was a “gone coon,” but at the moment I did not care much. Then I fell asleep only to be rudely awakened at four next morning by the crash of guns, and the dreaded bugle call, “gas alarm, gas alarm.” The Germans had launched a second attack, fiercer than the first. It did not take long to make up my mind what to do-who would hesitate at such a moment, when the Reaper of Death was busy?-and before I reached the trenches I had anointed a number of poor fellows who had struggled back after being gassed, and had fallen dying by the roadside.

“The harvest that day was a big one, for there had been bloody fighting all along the Front. Many a man died happy in the thought that the priest’s hand had been raised in Absolution over his head, and the Holy Oils” anointing had given pardon to those senses which he had used to offend the Almighty. It was a long, hard day, a day of heartrending sights, with the consolation of good work done in spite of the deadly fumes, and I reached my billet wet and muddy, pretty nearly worn out, but perfectly well, with not the slightest ill effect from what I had gone through, nor have I felt any since. Surely God has been good to me. That was not the first of His many favours, nor has it been the last.”

This was written a year later. In his first letter, while concealing the extreme risks he had incurred, he gave his father a brief consoling account of his two days” work amid the ghastly battlefield.

“On paper every man with a helmet was as safe as I was from gas-poisoning. But now it is evident many of the men despised the “old German gas,” some did not bother putting on their helmets, others had torn theirs, and others like myself had thrown them aside or lost them. From early morning till late at night I worked my way from trench to trench single-handed the first day, with three regiments to look after, and could get no help. Many men died before I could reach them; others seemed just to live till I anointed them, and were gone before I passed back. There they lay, scores of them (we lost 800, nearly all from gas) in the bottom of the trench, in every conceivable posture of human agony: the clothes torn off their bodies in a vain effort to breathe; while from end to end of that valley of death came one low unceasing moan from the lips of brave men fighting and struggling for life.

“I don’t think you will blame me when I tell you that more than once the words of Absolution stuck in my throat, and the tears splashed down on the patient suffering faces of my poor boys as I leant down to anoint them. One young soldier seized my two hands and covered them with kisses ; another looked up and said: “Oh! Father, I can die happy now, sure I”m not afraid of death or anything else since I have seen you.” Don’t you think, dear father, that the little sacrifice made in coming out here has already been more than repaid, and if you have suffered a little anxiety on my account, you have at least the consolation of knowing that I have, through God’s goodness, been able to comfort many a poor fellow, and perhaps to open the gates of Heaven for them.”

After this terrible experience Fr. Doyle was glad to have a few days” rest at the rear. For the first time in a fortnight he was able to remove his clothes, and he slept for thirteen continuous hours in a real bed. He had, as he himself said, “nearly reached the end of his tether.” For his conduct on the occasion he was mentioned in dispatches. His Colonel recommended him for the Military Cross, but was told that Fr. Doyle had not been long enough at the Front! So he was presented with the Parchment of Merit of the 49thBrigade. On which he remarks: “I hope that the angels have not forgotten me, and that I shall get a little corner in their report to Headquarters above.” Fortunately, there is no doubt about the latter point! Not angels only, but human souls speeding heavenwards bore tribute to the self-sacrificing zeal of the soldier of Christ.

During the comparative lull which succeeded this attack Fr. Doyle was kept busy by the men, “scraping their kettles,” as they expressed it. “ I wish mine were half as clean as some of theirs,” he adds. Thus, on Sunday, 14th May, between 600 and 700 men went to Holy Communion. Once more he eulogises his little flock. “One cannot help feeling proud ofour Irish lads,” he writes. “ Everyone loves them the French girls, naturally, that goes without saying; the shopkeepers love them for their simplicity in paying about five times the real value of the goods they buy. Monsieur le Curé would hug them each and every one if he could, for he has been simply raking in the coin these days, many a one putting three and five-franc notes in the plate, to make up, I suppose, for the trouser-buttons of the knowing ones; and surely our Blessed Lord loves them best of all for their simple unaffected piety which brings crowds of them at all hours of the day to visit Him in the Tabernacle. Need I add that the Padre himself has a warm corner in his heart for his boys, as I think they have for him, judging by their anxiety when the report spread that I had got knocked out in the gas attack. They are as proud as Punch to have the chaplain with them in the trenches. It is quite amusing to hear them point out my dugout to strangers as they go by: “That’s our priest,” with a special stress on the “our.”” For which assuredly the Fusiliers had good reason.

What did he think of it all? The following little description of another Crucifix will help to show us where his thoughts lay.

“I paid a visit recently to another wonder of the war, the Church of Vermelles. Little remains of it now, for the town has been held in succession by the Germans, French, and ourselves, and every yard of ground was lost and won a dozen times. The church is just a heap of ruins: the roof has been burnt, the tower shot away, while the statues, Stations, etc., are smashed to dust, but hanging still on one of the broken walls is a large crucifix absolutely untouched. The figure is a beautiful one, a work of art, and the face of Our Lord has an expression of sadness such as I have never seen before. The eyes are open, gazing as it were upon the scene of desolation, and though the wall upon which the crucifix hangs is riddled with bullet holes and shell splinters, the image is untouched save for one round bullet hole just through the heart. The whole thing may be only chance, but it is a striking sight, and cannot fail to impress one, and bring home the fact that if God is scourging the world as it well deserves, He is not indifferent to the sorrows and sufferings of His children.”

A few intimate letters written at this time give us a precious glimpse of his inner life. We are thus enabled to see a little of that inward soul-world, so calm and undisturbed, so perfectly hidden beneath the multifarious activities and cheerful vigour of a military chaplain. He felt that his present life, so repellent to his natural self, was at once the fulfilment and the test of all his previous aspirations for the foreign missions and martyrdom. His experience seemed to him a purifying preparation for some great task, the consummation of all his striving and sacrifice. “Life out here,” he writes, “has had one strange effect on me. I feel as if I had been crushed under some great weight, and that the crushing had somehow got rid ofmuch that was bad in me and brought me closer to Jesus. If it should be God’s holy will to bring me safe out of this war, life will be too short to thank Him for all the graces He has given me here. I am already dreaming dreams of the big things I shall try to do for Him, but I fancy he wants to crush me still more before I get out of this. I read a passage recently in the letters of Pere Libermann which is consoling. He says that he found from long experience that God never filled a soul with an ardent and lasting desire for anything, e.g., love, holiness, etc., without in the end gratifying it. Has He not in the lesser things acted thus with me? You know my desire for the foreign missions because I realised that the privation and hardships of such a life, the separation from all naturally dear to me, would be an immense help to holiness. And here I am a real missioner, if not in the Congo, at least with many of the wants and sufferings, and even greater dangers than I should have found there. The longing for martyrdom God has gratified times without number, for I have had to go into what seemed certain death, gladly making the offering of my poor life, but He did not accept it, so that the “daily marytrdom” might be repeated. How I thank Him for this keenest of all sufferings, the prospect of death when life is bounding within one, since it makes me a little more like the Saviour shrinking from death in the Garden! Even my anxiety to have more time for prayer has been gratified, because while waiting for one thing or another or going on my rounds, I have many opportunities for a little talk with Him.”

“I have seen very clearly since I came out here,” he writes in a hurriedly pencilled note on 16thApril, “that Jesus wanted to teach me one lesson at least. I think the want of absolute submission to His will has been the cause of much I have suffered. He asked me to make the sacrifice of my life, but I was unwilling. Not indeed that in any sense I fear death-would not heaven be a welcome exchange?-but knowing what I do about the state of the world, the millions to be saved, and how little He is known or loved or thought about, I feel it hard, very hard, to leave all that work there, and go to enjoy the happiness of His company. Then, too, my mind is full of plans for His glory; and perhaps more than all, I know well I have not done the work He gave me to do, that is, I have never fully lived the life He has so often asked for, and made clearly known to me ; I was too ungenerous and cowardly. That life, to put it in a word, was to be one in which I should “refuse Him no sacrifice He asked.” However, grace has won the day. I think I can say with truth that I have now no desire or wish except His. I have told Him He may do just as He pleases with me, and take all, even my life. This has brought great peace, and a sense of great security in the midst of danger, since I know I am in His hands. In return He has made me see that without this absolute abandonment to His pleasure, without the breaking of my own will, a lifeof immolation as His victim is a farce. The “perfect renunciation” maybe easy, but “without murmur or complaint” is the real test of the true lover.

Seen in its practical outcome of fearless and selfless service, this ideal of a life of immolation can be appreciated even by those who value holiness only by its direct social worth. It was no merely human ideal, however, but rather his constant union with our Lord which gave him strength and consolation. What he especially valued was the privilege of being a living Tabernacle, of always carrying the Blessed Sacrament around with him. This was to Fr. Doyle not only a constant source of consolation, but it also enabled him to overcome his natural loathing for the scenes of strife and slaughter around him, and to manifest an amazingly imperturbable courage which he was really far from feeling. “I have been living in the front trenches for the last week,” he says in another letter, “in a sea of mud, drenched to the skin with rain and mercilessly peppered with all sorts and conditions of shells. Yet I realise that some strange purifying process is going on in my soul, and that this life is doing much for my sanctification. This much I can say: I hunger and thirst for holiness, and for humiliations and sufferings, which are the short-cut to holiness; though when these things do come, I often pull a long face and try to avoid them. Yet lately, I have come to understand as never before that it is only “through many tribulations” we can hope to enter the Promised Land of sanctity. I think when this war is over (about twenty years hence), I shall become a hermit ! I never felt so utterly sick of the world and worldlings. All this bustle and movement has wearied my soul beyond measure. I am longing for solitude, to be alone with Jesus, for He seems to fill every want in my life. All the same, as the days go by I thank our Blessed Lord more and more for the grace of getting me out here. Not exactly because of the consolation of helping so many poor fellows or because of the merit the hard life must bring with it, but because I feel this experience has influenced my whole future, which I cannot further explain except by saying that God has given me the grace of my life since I came.

“Then in addition there is the great privilege and joy of carrying our dear Lord next my heart day and night. Long ago when reading that Pius IX carried the Pyx around his neck, I felt a foolish desire, as it seemed to me, for the same privilege. Little did I think then that the God of holiness would stoop so low as to make me His resting-place. Why, this favour alone would be worth going through twenty wars for! I feel ashamed at times that I do not profit more by His nearness, but I know that He makes allowances for weak, inconstant nature, and that even when I do not directly think of Him, He is silently working in my soul. Do you not think that Jesus must have done very much for Mary during the nine months she bore Him within her? I feel that He will do much, very much, for me too whilst I carry Him about with me.”

Writing on 7th May he lets an intimate correspondent see clearly the source of all his strength and courage. “Sometimes God seems to leave me to my weakness and I tremble with fear,” he confesses. “At other times I have so much trust and confidence in His loving protection that I could almost sit down on a bursting shell, feeling I could come to no harm. You would laugh, or perhaps cry, if you saw me at this moment sitting on a pile of bricks and rubbish. Shells are bursting some little distance away on three aides and occasionally a piece comes down with an unpleasantly close thud. But what does it matter? Jesus is resting on my Heart and whenever I like I can fold my arms over Him and press Him to that heart which, as He knows, beats with love of Him.” With what wonderful literalness does this attitude reproduce the message of our Lord Himself: “I say to you, My friends: Be not afraid of them who kill the body and after that have no more that they can do. . . . Are not five sparrows sold for two farthings and not one of them is forgotten before God? Yea, the very hairs of your head are all numbered. Fear not, therefore; you are of more value than many sparrows.” (St. Luke. 12. 4.)

The convent of Mazingarbe, to which allusion has been made above, did not long survive. “You will be sorry to hear,” says Fr. Doyle in his letter of 22ndMay, “that I have lost the good nuns and my little chapel. I call it mine, as it was associated with so many stirring events in my life, at the Front. I was on my way there on the famous Sunday morning when the shells miraculously stopped falling on the road I had to pass. I was going to the same little chapel when the bombardment and gas-attack of April 27th began. And several times I have said Mass at the altar which is now in fragments. A few mornings ago a big shell hit the chapel, burst inside, and literally blew it to bits, not a brick being left standing on another. It was the most complete bit of destruction I have ever seen. I remember the poor nuns telling me that they had become so accustomed to the shelling that they did not bother taking shelter in the cellar. For some reason or other-God’s providence over them no doubt-they had gone down to the lower regions this morning, and so they escaped without a scratch. I am very sorry to lose them, for we had become great friends; and more than once they had bound up my wounds, internal ones be it noted, pouring in rolls and coffee, hot and strong. I think I never met four pluckier women. Three times they were sent away by the military authorities, and as often came back. I should not be a bit surprised to find them some morning encamped once more on the ruins of their convent.”

In the same letter he announced that he had applied for a much needed leave of absence. “I do not think,” he says, “I ever looked forward to a holiday with such keenness in my life before.” The nerve-racking, ear-splitting, ceaseless warfare; the constant stream of soldiers to be helped, shriven, anointed or buried; the physical discomforts, the rats and the vermin, the intense cold and knee-deep slush succeeded now by the aching glare of the chalk trenches; the poison-gas working on his body, and the nauseating scenes of bloodshed working on his mind; all this, quite apart from his self-imposed martyrdom of prayer and penance, had told severely on Fr. Doyle, though outwardly he was as joyous and happy as ever. His all too short holiday of ten days was soon over, however, and once more he was back in the trenches.

He was hardly back when a new adventure befell him. “It seems right,” he tells his father, “that I should not keep from you this last mark of the good God’s wonderful protection which has been so manifest during the past four months.

“I was standing in a trench, quite a long distance from the firing-line, a spot almost as safe as Dalkey itself, talking to some of my men, when we heard in the distance the scream of a shell. It was evidently one of those random shots which Brother Fritz sends along from time to time, as no other came after it. We very soon became painfully aware that our visitor was heading for us, and that if he did not explode in front of our trench, his career would certainly come to an end close behind us. I did not feel uneasy, for I knew we were practically safe from flying fragments which would pass over our heads, but none of us had calculated that this gentleman had made up his mind to drop into the trench itself, a couple of paces from where I stood.

“What really took place in the next ten seconds I cannot say. I was conscious of a terrific explosion, and the thud of falling stones and debris. I thought the drums of my ears were split by the crash, and I believe I was knocked down by the concussion, but when I jumped to my feet I found that the two men who had been standing at my left hand, the side the shell fell, were stretched on the ground dead, though I think I had time to give them Absolution and anoint them. The poor fellow on my right was lying badly wounded in the head; but I myself, though a bit stunned and dazed by the suddenness of the whole thing, was absolutely untouched, though covered with dirt and blood.

“My escape was nothing short o£ a miracle, for a moment before I was standing on the very spot the shell fell, and had just moved away a couple of paces. I did not think it was possible for one to be so near a high explosive and not be killed, and even now I cannot account for my marvellous escape. In saying this I am not quite truthful, for I have no doubt where the saving protection came from. I had made up my mind to consecrate some small hosts at my Mass the following morning, and put them in my Pyx as usual, but as I walked through the little village on my way to the trenches, the thought came to me that with so much danger about, it would be well to have our Blessed Lord’s company and protection. I went into the church, opened the Tabernacle, and with the Sacred Host resting on my heart set out confidently to face whatever lay before me; little did I think I was to be so near death, or how much depended on that simple action. That is the explanation of the whole affair; I trusted Him, and I believe He just allowed this to happen on the very first day I got back to make me trust Him all the more and have greater confidence in His loving protection.”

Even the week’s rest in billets, though a change from life in the trenches, meant no cessation of work or risk. It was a busy time for the chaplain, as the men availed of the opportunity for Confession and Holy Communion. Even here, well behind the firing line, danger was not absent, for the German long-range guns often sent unwelcome visitors. “One shell hit this house,” he complained, “came slick through the brick wall into my poor bedroom of all places, very shabby, I call it, missed my bed by just an inch, took a dive through the floor into the room below, and having amused itself with the furniture, coolly walked out through the opposite wall without condescending to burst, in indignation, I suppose, because I was not there. No one was hurt, and not much harm done. I have put the head of my bed in the hole in the wall, for it is a point of honour among shells not to come twice through the same spot, and in consequence I sleep securely.” “With all these prayers going on,” he added to reassure those at home, “a fellow has no chance of getting hit; it’s not fair, I think!

At any rate, it was not Fr. Doyle’s fault that he was not hit, for when there was question of ministering to his men, he was absolutely heedless of danger. Further proof of this is unnecessary, but one or two more instances occurring at this time (July, 1916) may be recorded. He wanted to go quickly to a certain village which his men were holding. The journey by “the underground,” otherwise “Trench Street,” would take a couple of hours, whereas a quarter of an hour’s cycle ride over the high road would bring him to the village. The road, however, was in full view of the German trenches, which were quite near, and no one ever ventured along it in daylight. Fr. Doyle was the exception. He cycled the whole way without one bullet being fired. Moreover, he had to slacken speed several times in order to avoid the shell holes with which the road was pitted, and he had to dismount once to pick up his bicycle pump which had been jerked off. “ Judging by some remarks which have reached me since,” he concludes, “ people cannot make up their minds whether I am a hero or a fool-I vote for the second. But then they cannot understand what the salvation of even one soul means to a priest. So I just laugh and go my way, happy in the thought that I was in time.”This diversity of judgment is just as applicable to Fr. Doyle’s life as a whole. Was he a hero or a fool? That is because we forget the possibility of his being both.

“My second adventure, if I may so style it (says Fr. Doyle) was of a different kind. Preparations had been made for the blowing up of a gigantic mine sunk under the German trenches, while at the same time our men were to make a raid or night attack on the enemy. The hourfixed was eleven o‘clock, so shortly after ten I made my way up to the firing fine, where the attacking party were waiting. They were grouped in two bodies, one on either side of the mine, waiting for the explosion to rush over the parapet and seize the newly-formed mine-crater.

“As I came along the trench I could hear the men whisper, “Here’s the priest,” while the faces which a moment before had been marked with the awful strain of the waiting, lit up with pleasure. As I gave the Absolution and the blessing of God on their work, I could not help thinking how many a poor fellow would soon be stretched lifeless a few paces from where he stood; and though I ought to be hardened by this time, I found it difficult to choke down the sadness which filled my heart. “God bless you, Father, we’re ready now,” was reward enough for facing the danger, since every man realised that each moment was full of dreadful possibilities.

“It was well known that the Germans were countermining, and if they got wind of our intention would certainly try and explode their mine before ours. It was uncanny walking along, knowing that at any moment you might find yourself sailing skywards, wafted by the gentle breath of four or five tons of explosive. Fortunately, nothing happened, but the moments were running out, so I hurried down the communication trench to the dressing-station in a dug-out about a hundred yards away, where I intended waiting for the wounded to be brought in.

“On the stroke of eleven, I climbed up the parapet out of the trench, and as I did so, there was a mighty roar in the bowels of the earth, the ground trembled and rocked and quivered, and then a huge column of clay and stones was shot hundreds of feet in the air. As the earth opened, dense clouds of smoke and flames burst out, an awful and never-to-be-forgotten sight. God help the poor fellows, even though they be our enemies, who were caught in that inferno and buried alive or blown to bits.

“For a second there was a lull, and then it seemed as if hell were let loose. Our artillery in the rear were standing ready, waiting for the signal; the moment the roar of the explosion was heard every gun opened fire with a deafening crash. Already our men were over the parapet with a yell which must have terrified the enemy, up the side of the crater, and were digging themselves in for their lives. Under cover of our guns the raiding party had raced for the enemy’s trench, fought their way in and out again, as our object was not to gain ground.”

At this stage, the German guns having come into action, Fr. Doyle retired to the dug-out, and was soon busy with the wounded and dying. “It was nearly four,” he concludes, “when I got back to my cellar, tired enough I must confess, and sad at heart after the scenes I had just witnessed; but happy and thankful to God that I had the chance of speeding many a brave fellow on his way to eternity.”

On this occasion, as on others, he was able to show kindness to a prisoner. “One German prisoner, slightly wounded in a couple of places, was carried in,” he writes. “Poor beggar, he was certain his last hour had come. He was only a young lad, and his teeth chattered with fear. I tried to get him to take a drink; but he pushed it away, thinking, I suppose, it was poison. My knowledge of German is limited to der Hund; but a repetition of this word only increased his terror and convinced him we had sent for the dogs of war to tear him to pieces. By degrees I calmed him down, and with the help of a few French, Flemish and Latin words, found out that he was a Bavarian and a Catholic. I gave him a rosary, which he devoutly kissed and hung round his neck. Then, evidently reassured that no harm would come to him with a priest by his side, he fell asleep. Next morning he asked to see the “Pastor” and seemed anxious to thank me for the little I had been able to do for him.”

Still another adventure. “August 15thhas always been a day of many graces for me, “ writes Fr. Doyle.

It is the anniversary of my consecration to Mary and of my vows in the Society; it was very nearly making me, surpass our Lady herself by sending me higher up than she ever got in her life. “ The men were out of the trenches, staying in the village of Mazingarbe. On the afternoon of 15th August, 1916, most of the men were engaged in athletic sports in a field outside, when the Germans began shelling the town. Needless to say, Fr. Doyle at once started for the scene of danger.

“Knowing there was a good number of my boys about (he writes) I hurried back as quickly as I could, and made my way up the long narrow street. The shells were all coming in one direction, across the road, not down it, so that by keeping close to the houses on the shady side there was little danger, but occasional thrills of excitement, enough to satisfy Don Quixote himself. I reached the village cross-roads in time to lift up the poor sentry, who had been badly hit, and with the help of a couple of men carried him to the side of the road. He was unconscious, but I gave him Absolution, and was halfway through the anointing, when, with a scream and a roar which made our hearts jump, a shell whizzed over our heads and crashed into the wall directly opposite on the other side of the street, covering us with brick-dust and dirt. Bits of shrapnel came thud, thud, on the ground and the wall around us, but neither I nor the men were touched.

““Begorra, Father, that was a near one, anyhow,” said one of them, as he brushed the dust off his tunic, and started to fill his pipe. “It was well we had your Reverence with us when Jerry sent that one across.” “You must not thank me, boys,” I said, “don’t you know it is our Lady’s feast, and Mary had her mantle spread over us to save us from all harm?” “True for you, Father,” came the answer. But I could see by their faces that they were by no means convinced that I had not worked the miracle.

“Though it was the 15th August I was taking no risks, especially with this reputation to maintain! So the poor boy being dead, I bundled the rest of them down a cellar out of harm’s way, and started off again. Heavy as the shelling was, little damage was done, thanks to the fact that the sports had emptied the town. One man was beyond my aid, a few slightly wounded, and that was all. As I came round the corner of the Church, I met four of my boys calmly strolling along in the middle of the street as if they were walking on Kingstown pier. I won’t record what I said, but my words, helped by the opportune arrival of an unpleasantly near H.E. (High Explosive), had the desired effect, and we all took cover in the church. It was only then that I realised my mistake, for it soon became evident that the Germans were firing at the church itself. One after another the shells came in rapid succession, first on one side then on the other, dropping in front and behind the building, which was a target with its tall, white tower. It was madness to go out, and I do not think the men, some score of them, knew of their danger, nor did I tell them, but “man of little faith” as I was, I cast anxious eyes at the roof and wished it were stronger, even though Mary’s mantle was stretched over it ; for I thought perhaps there might be a hole in the garment which she had forgotten to patch. All’s well that ends well, they say. Not a shot hit the church, though the houses and road got it hot. Our fiery ordeal ended at last, safely and happily for all of us. And August 15th, 1916, went down on my list as another day of special grace and favour at Mary’s hands.”

Quite apart from these special escapes, Fr. Doyle’s ordinary days were filled with thrilling dangers, and exhausting toil. “I often congratulate myself,” he says, “on my good fortune in being appointed to the Irish Brigade, more especially as the last vacancy fell to me. The vast majority of the chaplains at the Front seldom see anything more dangerous than the shell of an egg of doubtful age. They are doing splendid work along the lines of communication, in the hospitals, or at the base. Even those who are attached to non-Catholic Divisions have little time to get to the trenches, their men are so scattered; but we with the Irish Regiments live in the thick of it. We share the hardships and dangers with our men, and if we have less polish on our boots and belts than other spruce padres, let us hope we have something more to our bank account in a better world.”

Almost before daybreak Fr. Doyle was up and had the happiness of offering the Holy Sacrifice. In August, 1916, he was able to fit up a room in a deserted house, and here from time to time he was able to celebrate Mass for the men, “a privilege which the poor fellows appreciate.” In one corner were the cellar steps down which, when occasion required, priest and congregation vanished with marvellous celerity. Once a shell came through the wall and fell on the floor without bursting, covering the little altar with bricks and plaster. But when in the trenches he celebrated in his dug-out. The morning was spent in visits to five dressing-stations in various parts of the trenches, saying some of his Office, Confessions or chats with the men. “Quite often,” he says, “an officer will drop in for a friendly controversial talk, resulting, thank God, in much good. There is no doubt that the faith and sincere piety of our men have made an immense impression on non-Catholics, and have made them anxious to know more about the true Church” “In the afternoon,” he continues, “I make a tour of the front-line trenches. To be candid, it is part of my work which I do not like. We chaplains are not bound to go into the firing line; in fact, are not supposed to do so, but the officers welcome us warmly, as a chat and a cheery word bucks the men up so much. It is not that the danger is very great; in fact, I think it is much less than in other parts of the trenches, because the track being built in an zigzag, you are perfectly safe in a “bay” owing to the walls of clay on either side, unless a shell fell on the very spot where you are standing: But it is the uncanny feeling which comes over one, knowing that the enemy in some parts are only thirty yards away, which makes the trip unpleasant. I have often come to a “bay” blown in shortly before by a shell from a mortar, a little gentleman weighing 200 lbs; you can see him coming in the air and when you do, well, you slip into the next “bay” and try to feel as small as you can. I have had to crawl past a gap in the trench, but I can honestly say I have never had anything approaching a near shave. The Lord does not forget His goats when He is minding His sheep.”

Night did not mean rest for Fr. Doyle, for it was then that he usually conducted burials. Moreover, as most of the ordinary fighting was done at night, it was then that he was most liable to “sick calls.” “Often the morning light is breaking,” he says, “before I get the chance of lying down. For example, the other night I had to bury one man at 11.30, a second after 2 A.M.; and I had barely turned in when word came that one of my poor boys had his leg shot off in a distant part of the trench. I was directed the wrong way, which added an extra half-hour to my walk, and a great deal to my anxiety lest the lad should be dead; but thank God, he was alive when I reached him, a comfort surely to us both.”

“Let me introduce you to my house and home,” he writes to his father. “It is nothing very grand, just a hole dug in the side of the trench, the entrance made as small as possible to keep out stray splinters of shell, not to speak of the cool night breezes, for my house does not boast of doors or windows, I am fortunate, however, in that I am just able to stand upright, though at times I forget my surroundings and bang my head against the beams of the roof ; at present I have 972 bruises on various parts of my skull, but am hoping to have more later on. The German officer who lived here before my arrival was evidently a man of taste; he put planks on the floor and lined the walls with boards, making it very dry and comfortable, for which I bless the dear man; but it makes my “appy “ome look like a respectable packing case. In one corner is my bed(?), just a couple of planks raised off the ground, not too soft, but welcome as any couch of down to a dead-tired man.

“I am never lonely at night, for I have many visitors-a stray dog, a trench cat or two who stroll in to say “bon jour,” and, of course, my never-failing friends the mice and rats. I never knew till I came out here that rats sing! It is a fact. They have built their nests behind the boards of my mansion walls-which, I may add, does not add to the sweetness of my abode-and many a time I have heard them singing to one another for ever so long, quite a sweet musical note. From time to time they poke their heads out and look at me, as much asto say, “You are a queer sort of rat, you are.””

“The rats and fleas have recently been making things uncommonly lively,” he wrote a little later, referring to his period in Loos. “My last dug-out was evidently their council chamber, and they resented my intrusion; they literally danced on me. I woke up the first night to find King Rat calmly sleeping on my feet. Before I quite realised it, he ran along my legs and over my face; a procedure that I do not recommend, as the sensation is quite horrible. I gave one yell, which must have startled the Germans for miles round. Twice the same night I woke up again with one of his wives sitting on my head, which is about the limit, I think. I am not exaggerating or dreaming; for, as I jerked my head, I heard their ladyships go plop against the wall. I hope the King lost a couple of his wives that night; for, without being uncharitable, he seems, like King Solomon to have a warm corner in his heart for the ladies. I know our Lord says to turn the other cheek; but Iknow no text saying we should be walked on by rats.” He had other companions. “We have fleas by the million,” he writes, “innumerable flies which eat the jam off your bread before you can get it into your mouth, smells wondrous and varied, not to speak ofother unmentionable things.” He also alludes to “scratches, many and deep, made by the loving embraces of the “Misskitties,” (mosquitoes) who are absolutely shameless in this part of the world.”

Amid all these hardships, to whose severity we must not be blinded by Fr. Doyle’s humorous descriptions, he was consoled by the thought of how much his presence and ministrations meant to the poor fellows around him. “Though the life is at times rough and hard enough (at least the floor feels so at night), there are many consolations for a priest, not the least of which is the number of converts, both officers and men, coming into the Church. Many of them have never been in contact with Catholics before, knew nothing about the grandeur and beauty of our religion, and above all have been immensely impressed by what the Catholic priests, alone of all the chaplains at the Front, are able to do for their men, both living and dying. It is an admitted fact, that the Irish Catholic soldier is the bravest and best man in a fight, but few know that he draws that courage from the strong Faith with which he is filled and the help which comes from the exercise of his religion.” Among his own flock, of course, he had a few straying sheep, and he has some amusing ,stories to tellconcerning their capture. “One of the men not too famous himself for piety,” he writes, “brought in a black sheep to Confession. He was a brawny boy, and I fancy he helped his argument with a little physical force. Seeing a good opportunity for landing another fish, I said to him, “What about yourself, were you with the priest recently? “Oh, Father,” he answered, “I”m all right, I was at my duty three years ago.” I believe the poor chap was really sincere; but I am glad to say he is “righter”“ now.”

He was naturally solicitous for his men, especially as the months dragged on with no intermission save a few brief days spent in reserve amid the ruins of a shattered -village behind the lines. It was customary for a division which had been in the line for three months to get back to the base for a month’s rest. The other divisions round the Sixteenth went back and returned, but the Irishmen were now six months without relief. “I suppose,” writes Fr. Doyle, “it is a compliment to the fighting qualities of the 16th Division, for we are holding the most critical sector of the line; but it is a compliment all of us would willingly forgo.” “As a matter of fact,” he adds, “the very night we handed over a certain portion of the Front to another regiment, the Germans-how did they know of the change?-came over and captured the trenches. So we had to go back again.” Still, the unfortunate Irishmen could not be kept in the trenches for ever. And on the 25th August came the welcome order to move to the rear. Sudden and secret as the order was, the Germans knew all about it, and put up a board with the message, “Good-bye, 16th Division, we shall give it hot to the English when they come.” The Irish did their work well in Loos; in the six months they did not lose a trench or a yard of ground; and out of the Division of 20,000, over 15,000 men (including, of course, many sick and slightly wounded) had passed through the doctor’s hands.

Back through Amiens to the rear, away from the sounds and sights of war. These long marches, made more trying by official incompetence, were very exhausting. As usual Fr. Doyle was where his Master would have been, following the Ignatian ideal of mecum laborare in the Kingdom of Christ. “The Officers, from Captain up,” he writes, “have horses; but I prefer to shoulder my pack and foot it with my boys, for I know they like it, and besides I don’t see why I should not share a little of their hardship.” Incidentally we learn that he had been carrying a young lad’s equipment in addition to his own, all day too without dinner or supper. It is clear that the saints are incorrigibly “imprudent.”

The men of the 16th Division were under the impression that, after having done so much more than their share, they were making their way steadily towards the place appointed for their well-deserved rest. But as a matter of fact many of these brave fellows were never to enjoy that promised time of quiet on this earth, for their road was leading them to the battle-field of the Somme.

A few months later Fr. Doyle recounts “two stories about our Irish lads at the Somme, which prove once again there are no soldiers in the world like them. They have all the dash and go of the hot-blooded Celtic race, the courage of lions, and that strong deep faith which makes them see the hand of God in everything, even their own death. During the bombardment of Ginchy-the most intense artillery preparation, it is said, of the whole war-one Paddy was seen sitting calmly in a shell-hole, smoking his pipe and sewing a button on his trousers, regardless of the fact that bullets and shells were falling like hail all round him! Another lad was half-way through a tin of bully beef, when the order came to “go over the top” and take the town. As he charged up the slope of that awful inferno-I saw it, and even now cannot understand how anyone got through alive-he wired into that beef till the last scrap was gone, then flung away the tin, unslung his rifle and bayonet, and made for Berlin in track of the fleeing Germans. They are just grand, these brave boys of mine; it would be hard indeed not to love them. One of them told me yesterday in great confidence that he was not sixteen yet; and he has already been through a year of hard fighting. No wonder the angry German officer called the 16thDivision “a pack of devils.””

“The 16th Division, weak in numbers as it was, has (declared Fr. Doyle) covered itself with glory. Our boys fought as only Irish lads can do, took, by a splendid dashing charge, two villages, which had beaten off all previous attacks, and made an opening for the big things which are sure to follow now. The price was a heavy one, and I am left to mourn the loss of many a good friend, and of scores of my poor boys; with just this consolation, that I know my presence was a help and a comfort, and every man was well prepared to meet his Maker when he fell.” The religious spirit of his own men is shown by the pride and devotion with which they received a beautiful handmade flag, sent by a nun to Fr. Doyle, which arrived the very night they left for the Somme front. “On one side,” writes Fr. Doyle, “is a large picture of the Sacred Heart, and on the other the name of the Brigade and regiment, with O”Neill’s war-cry, “Ave Maria.” The men are immensely proud of it, and feel it is a sign of the protection of God and of His Blessed Mother; for of all the twelve Irish regiments in action at the Somme, the 8thFusiliers had by far the smallest casualties.”

The opening sentences of the letter which Fr. Doyle wrote to his father on 11th September, 1916, sufficiently indicate the terrible nature of the ordeal which we are about to recount.

“I have been through the most terrible experience of my whole life, in comparison with which all that I have witnessed or suffered since my arrival in France seems of little consequence; a time of such awful horror that I believe that if the good God had not helped me powerfully by His grace, I could never have endured it. To sum up all in one word, for the past week I have been living literally in hell, amid sights and scenes and dangers enough to test the courage of the bravest; but through it all my confidence and trust in our Blessed Lord’s protection never wavered, for I felt that somehow, even if it needed a miracle, He would bring me safe through the furnace of tribulation. I was hit three times, on the last occasion by a piece of shell big enough to have taken off half my leg, but wonderful to relate I did not receive a wound or scratch-there is some advantage, you see, in having a good thick skin! As you can imagine, I am pretty well worn out and exhausted, rather shaken by the terrific strain of those days and nights without any real sleep or repose, with nerves tingling, ever on the jump, like the rest of us, but it is all over now; we are well behind the firingline on our way at last for a good long rest, which report says will be enjoyed close to the sea.”

His previous letter had been written from Bray, near Albert, on the river Somme, where there was a huge concentration of French and British forces. Each morning Fr. Doyle said Mass in the open and gave Holy Communion to hundreds of the men. “I wish you could have seen them,” he writes, “ kneeling there before the whole camp, recollected and prayerful-a grand profession, surely, of the faith that is in them. More than one non-Catholic was touched by it; and it made many a one, I am sure, turn to God in the hour of need.” On the evening of Sunday, 3rd September, just as they were sitting down to dinner, spread on a pile of empty shell boxes, urgent orders reached the 16thDivision to march in ten minutes. “There was only time,” says Fr. Doyle, “to grab a slice of bread and hack off a piece of meat before rushing to get one’s kit.” “As luck would have it,” he adds, “I had had nothing to eat since the morning and was famished, but there was nothing for it but to tighten one’s belt and look happy.” There are occasions when even the world can appreciate Jesuit obedience! After a couple of hours” tramp a halt was called, and an order came to stack all impedimenta-kits, packs, blankets, etc.,-by the side of the road. Fr. Doyle, it is almost needless to say, held on to his Mass things, though to his great sorrow for five days he was unable to offer the Holy Sacrifice- “the biggest privation of the whole campaign.”

The night was spent without covering or blankets, sitting on the ground. Next morning there was a short march over the brow of a hill, and down into a valley still nearer to the front line. It was a great change from the trench life of the past six months, since at Loos for days one never saw a soul overground, and all guns were carefully hidden. But here there were scores and hundreds of cannon of all shapes and sizes, standing out boldly in thefields, and “roaring as if they had swallowed a dish of uncooked shells.” Amid this infernal din and never-ending roar and crash of bursting shells, men and horses moved about as if there were no war. In this valley of death Fr. Doyle’s men had their first casualties, and he himself had a very narrow escape which is best described in his own words.

“I was standing about 100 yards away watching a party of my men crossing the valley, when I saw the earth under their feet open, and the twenty men disappear in a cloud of smoke, while a column of stones and clay was shot a couple of hundred feet into the air. A big German shell by the merest chance had landed in the middle of the party. I rushed down the slope, getting a most unmerciful “whack” between the shoulders, probably from a falling stone, as it did not wound me, but it was no time to think of one’s safety. I gave them all a General Absolution, scraped the clay from the faces of a couple of buried men who were not wounded, and then anointed as many of the poor lads as I could reach. Two of them had no faces to anoint, and others were ten feet under the clay, but a few were living still. By this time half a dozen volunteers had run up, and were digging the buried men out. War may be horrible, but it certainly brings out the best side of a man’s character; over and over again I have seen men risking their lives to help or save a comrade, and these brave fellows knew the risk they were taking, for, when a German shell falls in a certain place, you clear as quickly as you can, since several more are pretty certain to land close. It was a case of duty for me, but real courage for them. We dug like demons for our lads” lives and our own, to tell the truth, for every few minutes another “iron pill” from a Krupp gun would come tearing down the valley, making our very hearts leap into our mouths. More than once we were well sprinkled with clay and stone, but the cup of cold water promise was well kept, and not one of the party received a scratch. We got three buried men out alive, not much the worse for their trying experience, but so thoroughly had the shell done its work that there was not a single wounded man in the rest of the party; all had gone to a better land. As I walked back I nearly shared the fate of my boys, but somehow escaped again, and pulled out two more lads who were only buried up to the waist and uninjured. Meanwhile the regiment had been ordered back to a safer position on the hill, and we are able to breathe once more.”

The men’s resting-place that night consisted of some open shellholes. “To make matters worse,” writes Fr. Doyle, “we were posted fifteen yards in front of two batteries of field-guns, while on our right a little further off were half a dozen huge sixty-pounders; not once during the whole night did these guns cease firing, making the ground tremble and rock like a small earthquake, till I thought my head would surely crack in two with the ear-splitting crashes. Shells, as one soon learns, have an unpleasant trick of bursting prematurely as they leave the muzzle of the gun. In the next shell-hole lay the body of one of our men, who had been killed in this way; so the prospect of a night spent in this dangerous position was not a pleasant one. A soldier has to go and stay where he is sent; but to move would have made little difference, for, dodge as you might, you could never get out of the line of fire of the innumerable batteries all round. Many a time have I seen the earth open in front and around me, ploughed up by bits of our own shells, which helped to make things more lively still.

“Rain was falling in torrents as we prepared to go to bed in our shell-hole. Seated on a bog in the bottom of the hole for protection against our guns, huddled together for warmth, our feet in a pool, we watched the water trickle down the sides, and wondered how long it would take to wash us out. I have spent many more pleasant nights in my life, but never a more uncomfortable one; drenched by the falling rain which would persist in running down my neck, ravenous enough to eat a live German, and so tired and weary that the roar of the guns failed to keep me awake. I could not help thinking of Him who often had nowhere to lay His head, and it helped me to resemble Him a little. Providence was good to us; for after some time a tarpaulin was found-stolen, I am afraid-which we stretched over our cave; so we baled out the water, and settled down for a night of “Shivery O.” Strange to say, I am not one bit the worse for this trying experience and others like it, nor did I even get a cold.”

At last came the expected order to advance at once, and hold the front line, the part assigned being Leuze Wood, the scene of much desperate fighting. Fr. Doyle may be left to describe the journey and the scene.

“The first part of our journey lay through a narrow trench, the floor of which consisted of deep thick mud, and the bodies of dead men trodden under foot. It was horrible beyond description, but there was no help for it, and on the half-rotten corpses of our own brave men we marched in silence, everyone busy with his own thoughts. I shall spare you the gruesome details, but you can picture one’s sensations as one felt the ground yield under one’s foot, and one sank down through the body of some poor fellow.

“Half an hour of this brought us out on the open into the middle of the battlefield of some days previous. The wounded, at least I hope so, had all been removed, but the dead lay there stiff and stark, with open staring eyes, just as they had fallen. Good God, such a sight! I had tried to prepare myself for this, but all I had read or pictured gave me little idea of the reality. Some lay as if they were sleeping quietly, others had died in agony, or had had the life crushed out of them by mortal fear, while the whole ground, every foot of it, was littered with heads or limbs, or pieces of torn human bodies. In the bottom of one hole, lay a British and a German soldier, locked in a deadly embrace; neither had any weapon, but they had fought on to the bitter end. Another couple seemed to have realised that the horrible struggle was none of their making, and that they were both children of the same God; they had died hand-in-hand praying for and forgiving one another. A third face caught my eye, a tall, strikingly handsome young German, not more, I should say, than eighteen. He lay there calm and peaceful, with a smile of happiness on his face, as if he had had a glimpse of Heaven before he died. Ah, if only his poor mother could have seen her boy, it would have soothed the pain of her broken heart.

“We pushed on rapidly through that charnel-house, for the stench was fearful, till we stumbled across a sunken road. Here the retreating Germans had evidently made a last desperate stand, but had been caught by our artillery fire. The dead lay in piles, the blue-grey uniforms broken by many a khaki-clad body. I saw the ruins of what was evidently the dressing-station, judging by the number of bandaged men about; but a shell had found them out even here, and swept them all into the net of death.

“A halt for a few minutes gave me the opportunity I was waiting for. I hurried along from group to group, and as I did the men fell on their knees to receive Absolution. A few words to give them courage, for no man knew if he would return alive. A “God bless and protect you, boys,” and I passed on to the next company. As I did, a soldier stepped out of the ranks, caught me by the hand, and said: “I am not a Catholic, sir, but I want to thank you for that beautiful prayer.” The regiments moved on to the wood, while the doctor and I took up our positions in the dressing-station to wait for the wounded. This was a dug-out on the hill facing Leuze Wood, and had been in German occupation the previous afternoon.

“To give you an idea of my position. From where I stood the ground sloped down steeply into a narrow valley, while on the opposite hill lay the wood, half of which the Fusiliers were holding, the Germans occupying the rest; the distance across being so short I could easily follow the movements of our men without a glass.

“Fighting was going on all round, so that I was kept busy, but all the time my thoughts and my heart were with my poor boys in the wood opposite. They had reached it safely, but the Germans somehow had worked round the sides and temporarily cut them off. No food or water could be sent up, while ten slightly-wounded men who tried to come back were shot down, one after another. To make matters worse, our own artillery began to shell them, inflicting heavy losses, and though repeated messages were sent back, continued doing so for a long time. It appears the guns had fired so much that they were becoming worn out, making the shells fall 300 yards short.

“Under these circumstances it would be madness to try and reach the wood, but my heart bled for the wounded and dying lying there alone. When dusk came I made up my mind to try and creep through the valley, more especially as the fire had slackened very much, but once again the Providence of God watched over me. As I was setting out I met a sergeant who argued the point with me. “You can do little good, Father,” he said, “down there in the wood, and will only run a great risk. Wait till night comes and thenwe shall be able to bring all the wounded up here. Don’t forget that, though we have plenty of officers and to spare, we have only one priest to look after us.” The poor fellow was so much in earnest I decided to wait a little at least. It was well I did so, for shortly afterwards the Germans opened a terrific bombardment and launched a counterattack on the wood.”

Unfortunately, Fr. Doyle gives no further details of his experiences except a brief account of Saturday, 9th September. In a subsequent letter (11th October) he described a Mass for the Dead which he celebrated at the Somme, apparently on this Saturday morning. “By cutting a piece out of the side of the trench,” he says, “I was just able to stand in front of my tiny altar, a biscuit box supported on two German bayonets. God’s angels, no doubt, were hovering overhead, but so were the shells, hundreds of them, and I was a little afraid that when the earth shook with the crash of the guns, the chalice might be overturned. Round about me on every side was the biggest congregation I ever had; behind the altar, on either side, and in front, row after row, sometimes crowding one upon the other, but all quiet and silent, as if they were straining their ears to catch every syllable of that tremendous act of Sacrifice; but every man was dead! Some had lain there for a week, and were foul and horrible to look at, with faces black and green. Others had only just fallen, and seemed rather sleeping than dead, but there they lay, for none had time to bury them, brave fellows every one, friend and foe alike, while I held in my unworthy hands the God of Battles, their Creator and their Judge, and prayed Him to give rest to their souls.”

It was arranged that on the 9th September the 16th Division should storm Ginchy, a strong village against which previous English attacks had failed. The 8th Fusiliers, having lost so many officers, were held in reserve. From seven in the morning till five in the evening the guns played on Ginchy. “Shortly before five,” writes Fr. Doyle, “I went up to the hill in front of the town, and was just in time to see our men leap from their trenches and dart up the slope, only to be met by a storm of bullets from concealed machine guns. It was my first real view of a battle at close quarters, an experience not easily forgotten. Almost simultaneously all our guns, big and little, opened a terrific barrage behind the village, to prevent the enemy bringing up reinforcements, and in half a minute the scene was hidden by the smoke of thousands of bursting shells, British and German. The wild rush of our Irish lads swept the Germans away like chaff. The first line went clean through the village and out the other side, and were it not for the officers, acting under orders, would certainly be in Berlin by this time! Meanwhile the supports had cleared the cellars and dug-outs of their defenders; the town was ours and all was well. At the same time a feeling of uneasiness was about. Rumour said some other part of the line had failed to advance, the Germans were breaking through, etc. One thing was certain, the guns had not ceased. Something was not going well.”

About nine o‘clock the Fusiliers were getting ready to be relieved by another regiment. But one further experience was to be theirs. There came an urgent order to hurry up to the Front. “To my dying day,” says Fr. Doyle, “I shall never forget that half-hour, as we pushed across the open, our only light the flash of bursting shells, tripping over barbed wire, stumbling and walking on the dead, expecting every moment to be blown into Eternity. We were halted in a trench at the rear of the village, and there till four in the morning we lay on the ground listening to the roar of the guns, and the scream of the shells flying overhead, not knowing if the next moment might not be our last. Fortunately, we were not called upon to attack, and our casualties were very slight. But probably because the terrible strain of the past week was beginning to tell, or the Lord wished to give me a little merit by suffering more, the agony and fear and suspense of those six hours seemed to surpass the whole of the seven days.

“We were relieved on Sunday morning, 10th, at four o‘clock, and crawled back (I can use no other word) to the camp in the rear. My feet, perhaps, are the most painful of all, as we are not allowed to remove our boots even at night. But otherwise I am really well, thank God, and a few days” good rest will make me better than ever. At present we march one day and rest thenext, but I do not know where.”

“Life in the army,” writes Fr. Doyle to his father on 23rdSeptember, “is a life of delightful and unexpected surprises. You are told that you are going to some large town; and at once visions of comfortable quarters, with perhaps the luxury of a real bed, loom up before you; you reach the town, only to find that you do not stay there, but have to tramp out into the open country and fight for a corner in some ancient barn. You hear that this journey is to be done by rail; butnothing is said about ten miles” march before and after reaching the stations. While the crowning joy of all is to count on a month’s rest and then find yourself back in the trenches within a week. All these pleasant surprises have been mine recently.

“We had a few very pleasant restful days in the place I last wrote from, a delightful spot on the banks of a wooded river. But since then we have been on the move by rail and motor lorries and “Shanks’s mare,” till we found ourselves in Normandy, where the boys had the time of their lives among the apple orchards. On once more, over the frontier into a country not unknown to both of us; and there we have settled down to work again, but in almost the quietest part of the line, a striking contrast to our stirring times at Loos.”

Thus once more the men of the 16thDivision were defrauded of their month’s rest so long overdue; they were thankful at least to have a quiet section of the line in Belgium. “If Loos was hell,” says Fr. Doyle, “this place is heaven. To begin with, there is scarcely any shelling even on the front line, with the result that for days we have not a single casualty. Then the country is extremely pretty, well wooded and undulating; so that even close up to the firing line one can walk about in the fields with perfect safety. This sense of security and freedom, with green hedges and trees all round, makes life quite a different thing. At Loos, and more so at the Somme, scarce a vestige of vegetation remains. Long ago every leaf and twig was torn from the trees by the rush of the passing shells, the wind of which would carry you off your feet. What once were woods are now a few gaunt naked poles still standing in the midst of smashed boughs and splintered trees, while the smoke and poisonous vapours from millions of shells have killed and blasted the grass and shrubs, the result being a vast arid plain of desolation. You can therefore imagine our relief to find ourselves walking through green fields, and along hedgerows covered with blackberries, trying to persuade ourselves that a war is really going on, and that the enemy is just beyond the neighbouring hill.”

“On Sundays,” he continues, “I am able to gather a good number of the men together for Mass, under cover of the trees, as there is danger otherwise of a bomb or two from a passing enemy aeroplane. I need not tell you what a pleasure it is for them.” Here, in this relatively quiet corner of Belgium, Fr. Doyle went through the ordinary chaplain’s work until early in November when he was able to come home on a week’s leave of absence.

Some quotations from letters written at this time to a few intimate friends and relatives will help to give us a glimpse of that inner life which was naturally not revealed in the letters which he wrote home and destined for private circulation among a circle of acquaintances.

“I am getting to feel that God does not want the sacrifice of my life, and that I shall return safely to do His work. Some time ago I was feeling very depressed because that sacrifice was greater than even you know, when my eyes fell on these words: “The essence of the act of sacrifice did not consist in the slaying of the victim but in its offering.” That seemed to make me realise that God was satisfied with my willingness to die, and that He had granted me my heart’s desire to be a martyr, because the mere act of dying would add little to the crown of suffering I have gone through. At the same time I feel, oh! with what joy, since it is for Him, that I have still very much to face and that I shall have the happiness of being wounded and shedding my blood for Jesus. I try to crush down the longing and to wish only what He wishes. One more word about self. You have guessed my little secret concerning decorations. I have asked God that I may not receive any. For my dear father’s sake, and the pleasure it would give my loved ones at home, it would be great happiness to hear I had been honoured. But I have made the sacrifice of this to God, and so though my name has again gone to Headquarters, nothing has come of it. “

As a matter of fact, however, early in January, Fr. Doyle was awarded the Military Cross for his bravery at the Somme. For various reasons he disliked this distinction, but was glad inasmuch as it gave pleasure to his father, to whom he thus wrote on 4th January

“I am sorry these rewards are given to chaplains, for surely he would be a poor specimen of the Lord’s anointed who would do his work for such a thing. But seeing that they are going, I must say I am really glad because I know it will give pleasure to an “old soldier” at home, who ought long ago to have had all the medals and distinctions ever conferred.”

Fr. Doyle’s interests and happiness lay elsewhere. “They have given me the M.C.,” he said, “ but His crosses are far more welcome . . .” “I wonder,” he wrote on 7thNovember, “I wonder is there a happier man in France than I am. Just now Jesus is giving me great joy in tribulation, though conditions of living are about as uncomfortable as even St. Teresa could wish-perpetual rain, oceans of mud, damp, cold, and a plague of rats. Yet I feel that all this is a preparation for the future, and that God is labouring in my soul for ends I do not clearly see as yet. Sometimes I kneel down with outstretched arms and pray God, if it is a part of His divine plan, to rain down fresh privations and sufferings.” “But,” he adds with a characteristic touch of whimsical humour, “I stopped when the mud wall of my little hut fell in upon me-that was too much of a good joke!”

The idea that his hard experience was preparatory to some great consummation reappears in the following interesting letter which he addressed to his sister on 19thDecember, “I want to have a little chat with you,” he begins. “But you must promise to keep to yourself what I write to you. Did I ever tell you that my present life was just the one I dreaded most, being from a natural point of view repugnant to me in every way ? So when our Blessed Lord sent me to the Front I felt “angry” with Him for taking me away from a sphere of work where the possibilities, at least, of doing good were so enormous, and giving me a task others could perform much better. It was only after a time that I began to understand “God’s ways are not our ways, nor His thoughts our thoughts,” and the meaning of it all began to dawn on me. In the first place, my life, especially here in the trenches, has become a real hermit’s one, cave and all, a mixture of solitude with a touch of the hardships of a foreign mission. The result has been that God has come into my life in a way He never did before. He has put strange thoughts into my head and given me many lights which I feel have changed my whole outlook upon life. Then I feel, oh, so strongly, that I am going through a kind of noviceship, a sort of spiritual training, for some big work He wants me to do in the future. I feel every day as if spiritual strength and power were growing in my soul. This thought of being trained or fitted for God’s work (if I may use the comparison with all reverence) like St. John the Baptist, has filled me with extraordinary joy and made me delight in a life which could not well be much harder.

“Here I am in a bit of a hole in the side of a ditch, so low that I cannot stand upright and have to bend my head and shoulders during Mass-I can tell you my back aches at the end. My only window is the door (without a door) through which the wind blows day and night; and a cold wind it is just now. I was offered a little stove but my “Novice Master” did not want that luxury, for it never came. My home would be fairly dry if I could keep out the damp mists and persuade the drops of water not to trickle from the roof. As a rule I sleep well, though one is often roused to attend some poor fellow who has been hit. Still it is rather reversing the order of things to be glad to get up in the morning to try and get warm; and it is certainly not pleasant to be wakened from sweet dreams by a huge rat burrowing under your pillow or scampering over your face! This has actually happened to me. There is no great luxury in the matter of food, as you may well guess. Recently, owing to someone’s carelessness, or possibly because the bag was made to pay toll on the way up to the trenches, my day’s rations consisted of a half of a pot of jam and a piece of cheese!

“Through all this, and much in addition, the one thought ever in my mind is the goodness and love of God in choosing me to lead this life, and thus preparing me without a chance of refusal for the work He wants done. No amount of reading or meditating could have proved to me so convincingly that a life of privation, suffering and sacrifice, accepted lovingly for the love of Jesus, is a life of great joy, and surely of great graces. You see, therefore, that I have reasons in abundance for being happy, and I am truly so. Hence you ought to be glad that I have been counted worthy to suffer something for our dear Lord, the better to be prepared to do His work. Ask Him, won’t you, that I may not lose this golden opportunity, but may profit to the full by the graces He is giving me. Every loving wish from my heart for a holy and happy Xmas. Let our gift to the divine Babe be the absolute sacrifice of even our desires, so that His Will alone may be done.”

One final quotation will be given from an intimate Christmas letter, so that while we are following Fr. Doyle’s outward career, so heroic, and, at a safe distance, so picturesque, we may not misread the real man within, so hidden and unsuspected and, to most men, so unintelligible.

“I certainly did not think this time twelve months (he writes) that my next Christmas greetings to you would be from a military camp. I cannot help wondering where my good wishes will reach you from when another year has passed. God has given me one grace at least since I came here. I feel absolutely in His hands and joyous in the thought that no matter what happens it will be all for His greater glory. Though Christmas Day was miserably wet, the Divine Babe filled my heart with joy at the thought that my life now was a little bit at least more like to His. I am learning here better every day that there is no life of happiness like one full of “hard things” borne for love of God. For some time past I have felt, I know not why, an intense longing for holiness at any price.

“In some ways I have found life out here much easier than I expected and in other respects a good deal more trying. Still if I get only a little bit of holiness out of it all, will it not be well worth it all? Jesus knows I have only one wish in this world-to love Him and Him alone-for the rest He has carte blanche to do as He pleases in my regard. I just leave myself in His loving Hands and so have no anxiety or care, but great peace of soul. I am off now for a fortnight’s spell in the trenches, and if it is not to be Saint Teresa’s mori, it will at least be pati.”

Early in December, 1916, Fr. Doyle was changed from the Irish Fusiliers to the 8th Dublins; accordingly he was henceforth attached to the 48th Brigade which was also part of the 18th Division. He was naturally sorry to part with his men, some of whom cried when told he was leaving. But he was once more among Irishmen and quite close to his old Battalion in the line. Fr. Doyle was not far from the convent of Locre where he had a comfortable week’s billet when his six days spell in the trenches was done. His dug-out merits a passing notice. Fr. Doyle gives a humorous description: “Picture a good respectable deep Irish ditch with plenty of water and mud in the bottom; scrape a fair-sized hole in the bank, cover the top with some sheets of iron, pile sandbags on top; and you have my dwelling. The door serves also as window and lets in not only light and air, but stray cats, rats galore, and many creepy crawly beasties, not to mention rain, snow, and at times a breeze which must have been hatched at the North Pole.” It was in this dug-out that Fr. F. M. Browns, S.J., met Fr. Doyle on the evening of 23rd December, 1916, when he came up with the 2nd and 9th Dublins who were relieving the 8th Dublins and R. I. Rifles.”During our whole time there,” writes Fr. Browne, “we relieved each other in this way every eight days. I remember how decent Fr. Willie used to be, coming up early on the relief days, before his Battalion came up, in order that I might get away. He knew how I hated it-and I did not hate it half as much as he did. We used generally to confess each other before leaving. We were very exact about waiting for each other, so that I do not think the (48th) Brigade was ever without a priest in the line.” The invulnerability of this dugout became famous. The men used to say, “Little Fr. Doyle’s dug-out can’t be hit!” (The adjective denoted endearment rather than stature-Fr. Doyle was nearly six feet in height.) Whenever there was heavy firing, cooks and other non-combatants used to crowd into it. Once when Fr. Doyle hurriedly returned to get something he had forgotten, he found twelve men squeezed into the little dug-out which was hardly big enough to contain four!

Though this interval at the Front was comparatively quiet, it was not altogether devoid of incidents. “I had just finished breakfast,” notes Fr. Doyle on 21st December, “when I heard Miss Krupp come singing overhead with that peculiar note which warns you of her proximity. I ran to the door-the running consisted of one step-and saw the explosion at the bottom of the little hill about two hundred yards away. A moment later another scream, and the earth is flying sky-high, this time fifty yards nearer. I waited anxiously for the next shot. Again the range was shorter, the third shell bursting half the distance from the first. And then I realised that at this rate of progression I should soon have an unwelcome visitor landing at my very door, for my dug-out was in the direct line of fire. There was no time to adopt the Dublin lad’s advice when faced with a difficulty, and “send for the polis”; nor was there any use trying to get out of the way, for, as likely as not, another shell would land in the trench itself, while my dug-out afforded some protection. I knew there was nothing to fear while His powerful protection was over me, as it has never failed me yet. But I confess I shook with fear as another shell came crashing down and the stones and clay rattled in a shower outside and on the roof.” “It is a curious thing,” he observes, “that I have never had a moment’s hesitation nor ever felt fear in going into the greatest danger when duty called and some poor chap needed help. But to sit in cold blood, so to speak, and to wait to be blown to pieces or buried bya crump is an experience which tests one’s nerves to the limit. Thank God, I have been able to conceal my feelings and so to help others to despise the danger, when I was just longing to take to my heels. An officer said to me at the Somme, “I have often envied you your coolness and cheerfulness in hot corners.” I rather surprised him by saying that my real feeling was abject fear and I often shook like a leaf.” That same afternoon another big shell came plump down close to where he was sitting at his lunch. “Three of my lads,” he recounts, “came tearing in to my dug-out; they had nearly been sent to glory and felt they were safe with the priest. The poor priest cracks a joke or two, makes them forget their terror, and goes on with his lunch while every morsel sticks in his throat from fear and dread of the next shell. A moment passes, one, two, here it comes; dead silence and anxious faces for a second, and then we all laugh, for it is one of our own shells going over. Five minutes more and we know all danger has passed. It has been a memorable day for me, though only one of many such in the past.”

The approach of Christmas meant the arrival of many presents to Fr. Doyle, which, needless to say, soon found their way to the Dublins. “L. and W.”s gift of “smokes,” he writes, “was a godsend (for the men, not for himself-Fr. Doyle was a non-smoker all his life). The parcel arrived in the midst of pelting rain which had been going on all day. I put on my big boots and coat, and trotted-or I should rather say, waded-up to the front line and gave each man a handful. You would not believe how it bucked them up or how welcome that smoke was to the brave fellows, as they stood there in the mud and water, soaked through and through, hungry and sleepless. “Sure, Father, it’s little enough to bear for our sins,” is the way the rough lads look at their hardships. Almighty God would be a queer God if He did not forgive and forget whatever they may have done with such a spirit as this.”

“Just now,” he writes to his sister. “just now I got from a convent a present of a lovely cake in a large box. It was well packed up, but I could feel its softness and see in imagination the sugar and almond paste on top. This child had visions of a glorious tea in his dug-out, lasting from six till nine, during which large slices of cake would receive a military burial. The string was cut, the paper unrolled, and lo!-there appeared a large piece of fat bacon-no cake! N.B.-the Germans have sent over to know the meaning of the fearful howls they heard in our lines all the morning.” His sister-inlaw sent him a plum padding. “As I write,” he says on 13thDecember, “a huge plum pudding, sent by the thoughtful J., has just walked in at the door. A hundred thousand welcomes! The Lord grant that I do not get killed till after Christmas at least; it would be a fearful disaster to leave that treasure behind to be devoured by the holy nuns.” A week later he conveys the sad news that “a villain of a rat worked his way into the middle of the pudding and built himself a home there. There was not so much of the plum pudding left after that, but the remainder was all the sweeter.”

Christmas itself Fr. Doyle had the good luck of spending in billets. He got permission from General Hickie to have Midnight Mass for his men in the Convent. The chapel was a fine large one, as in pre-war times over three hundred boarders and orphans were resident in the Convent; and by opening folding-doors the refectory was added to the chapel and thus doubled the available room. An hour before Mass every inch of space was filled, even inside the altar-rails and in the corridor, while numbers had to remain in the open. Word had in fact gone round about the Mass, and men from other battalions came to hear it, some having walked several miles from another village. Before the Mass there was strenuous Confessionwork. “We were kept hard at work hearing Confessions all the evening till nine o‘clock,” writes Fr. Doyle, “the sort of Confessions you would like, the real serious business, no nonsense and no trimmings. As I was leaving the village church a big soldier stopped me to know, like our “Gardiner Street friend”, “if the Fathers would besittin’ anymore that night.” He was soon polished off, poor chap, and then insisted on escorting me home. He was one of my old boys, and having had a couple of glasses of beer-”It wouldn’t scratch the back of your throat, Father, that French stuff”-was in the mood to be complimentary. “We miss you sorely, Father, in the battalion,” he said, “we do be always talking about you.” Then in a tone of great confidence: “Look, Father, there isn’t a man who wouldn’t give the whole world, if he had it, for your little toe! That’s the truth.” The poor fellow meant well, but “the stuff that would not scratch his throat” certainly helped his imagination and eloquence. I reached the Convent a bit tired, intending to have a rest before Mass, but found a string of the boys awaiting my arrival, determined that they at least would not be left out in the cold. I was kept hard at it hearing Confessions till the stroke of twelve and seldom had a more fruitful or consoling couple of hours” work, the love of the little Babe of Bethlehem softening hearts which all the terrors of war had failed to touch.”

The Mass itself was a great success and brought consolation and spiritual peace to many a war-weary exile. This is what Fr. Doyle says

“I sang the Mass, the girls” choir doing the needful. One of the Tommies, from Dolphin’s Barn, sang the Adeste beautifully, with just a touch of the sweet Dublin accent to remind us of “home, sweet home,” the whole congregation joining in the chorus. It was a curious contrast: the chapel packed with men and officers, almost strangely quiet and reverent (the nuns were particularly struck by this), praying and singing most devoutly, while the big tears ran down many a rough cheek: outside the cannon boomed and the machine-guns spat out a hail of lead: peace and good will- hatred and bloodshed!

“It was a Midnight Mass none of us will ever forget. A good 500 men came to Holy Communion, so that I was more than rewarded for my work.”

On Christmas Day itself all was quiet up at the front line. The Germans hung white flags all along their barbed wire and did not fire a shot all day, neither did the English. For at least one day homage was paid to the Prince of Peace.

From a few of his letters despatched about this time we can fill in some details and conditions of his life during the From a few of his letters despatched about this time we can fill in some details and conditions of his life during the 17. The cold was intense. Fr. Doyle’s references thereto are suggestive and eloquent:

“Jan. 27th Cold!

Jan. 28th Colder!!

Jan. 29th More Colder!!!

Jan. 30th!!!!!!”

Once he apologises for not writing by saying that he could not hold a pencil in his fingers. “Before I have finished dressing in the mornings, not a very long process,” he says, “the water in which I had washed is frozen again. One has to be very careful, too, of one’s feet, keeping them well rubbed with whale oil, otherwise you would soon find yourself unable to walk, with half a dozen frozen toes. A dug-out is not the warmest of spots just at present; but even if I felt inclined togrowl, I should be ashamed to do so, seeing what the poor men are suffering in the trenches.” As a matter of fact, the temperature was for over a fortnight many degrees below zero. During this time it took five or six hours” hard labour to dig a grave. “I think the limit was reached,” writes Fr, Doyle, “when the wine froze in the chalice at Mass, and a lamp had to be procured to melt it before going on with the Consecration. I am thinking it will take fifty lamps to thaw out the poor chaplain!”

The diet was hardly less trying than the weather. He lived chiefly on bread, bully-beef and tea. This last concoction was rather nauseous. “Don’t ask me where the water comes from,” he protests, “for I certainly am not anxious to learn. The men hold that if you boil water, you need not bother about its source, or how many dead beasties it has washed on its journey. I have had tea of the most wonderful shades of brown and black; but, barring the taste at times, I am not a whit the worse for this mysterious beverage.” “My poor orderly,” he remarks on 31stJuly, 1916, “has nearly emptied the well, of course leaving the six dead Germans behind, in his efforts to make enough tea.” The bully-beef was bad enough, but the dietaryspecialists” substitute was worse. “Pork-and-Beans,” he writes on 16th January, 1917, “is quite a standing joke at the front, though not a pleasant one. A committee of food experts, having discovered that lentil beans contain one and a half times more nourishment and flesh-forming properties than a corresponding weight of meat, promptly decided that from time to time Tommy should be fed on this delicious product; and thereupon, I am sure, sat down to a roast leg of mutton, to show that if they were experts they were by no means faddists. The method of procedure is this: Fill a can with a pound of small beans, on top place a piece of fat not larger than a shilling, seal up carefully, and wrap in a coloured label on which is printed (and so must be true) the startling intelligence that “five beans are of more value than a piece of meat”; then allow a pig to rub his sides against the packing case, and voila?, you have a sustaining dinner ration of Pork and Beans! The first time you sit down to this repast you experience the most frightful temptation to vainglory and pride, as being the equal of the ancient hermits; and then you feel “orrible” empty; so that, even granting that a tin of beans is of greater value than a rib of beef, we are all ready to vote, and vote solid every time, for the old-fashioned steak.”

The very day after Christmas, slaughter recommenced with renewed energy. Two little incidents which Fr. Doyle records as having occurred on 26th December may be here given in his own words.

“On St. Stephen’s Day the men were engaged in a football match, when the Germans saw them, sent over a lovely shot at long range, which carried away the goalpost-the referee gave a “foul”-and bursting in the middle of the men, killed three and wounded seven. The wounded were bandaged up and hurried off to hospital, the dead carried away for burial; and then the ball was kicked off once more, and the game went on as if nothing had happened. The Germans must have admired the cool pluck of the players for they did not fire any more. This is just one little incident of the war, showing how little is thought of human life out here; it sounds callous, but there is no room for sentiment in warfare, and I suppose it is better so.”

The other incident is of a more personal interest.

“I was riding my bicycle past a wagon when the machine slipped, throwing me between the front and back wheels of the limber. Fortunately the horses were going very slowly and I was able, how I cannot tell, to roll out before the wheel went over my legs. I have no luck, you see, else I should be home now with a couple of broken legs, not to speak of a crushed head. The only commiseration I received was the remark of some passing officers that “the Christmas champagne must have been very strong.””

“Whatever may be said of the birth and life of the old year,” he writes on 1stJanuary, “it certainly died in a glorious burst of noise. All last evening, with intervals for refreshment, our gunners were hard at it; “worrying” the enemy they call it, not caring of course whether or not they worry the men of peace who would dearly love asleep. Then when midnight struck, a tremendous cannonade to usher in the new year. Fritz was strangely quiet, not retaliating, drinking our health, probably, in the depths of his safe dug-out; all except the unfortunate sentries, who had to face the music in the opposite trenches, and kept sending up Verey lights or star-shells, to make sure we were not coming over to raid him. It was a fine display of artillery work; but we shall pay for it, of that I am certain, “we” being the poor infantry holding the trench, and not the good gunners.”

“I was right,” continues Fr. Doyle a little later. “We did pay for our fun; and the particular spot selected for the scourging was the place where I have the honour to live. This morning again our guns opened up and the Flying Pig joined in with gusto. Oh, that someone would slay that beastly pig, make him into sausages or blow him to Dalkey. If not, friend Fritz will soon blow us to kingdomcome.”

“Close beside us,” writes Fr. Doyle on 21st December, 1916, “we have installed a Flying Pig, and the Germans are searching for his sty. A Flying Pig, let me explain, is the pet name for a huge trench-mortar shell weighing 250 lbs. The first one we sent over landed near two big trees, which were lifted out of the ground, root and branch, and pitched yards away. Fritz does not like the Pig and is thirsting for his blood.

“Again the Germans were almost silent. Then about one o‘clock, just as our artillery had ceased, they gave it back to us; and for two hours and a quarter they pasted us with shells, till I thought not a man would be left alive to tell the tale.

“Words could never convey the pent-up agony-it is the only word to use-of those two hours; waiting, waiting, waiting, always waiting for something to happen, without being able to fire even a bullet in return. I do not think the feelings of a condemned man on the scaffold, waiting for the bolt to be drawn, could be much worse. You know your chances of being hit are relatively small, but there is always the chance that you may; and as shell followed shell in quick succession, sometimes two or three together, even the bravest seemed to shrink up as if they were struck and faces grew long and drawn.

“For the moment there was nothing to be done, so I went on with my Office. But all the time I was torn with anxiety for the safety of my poor boys. It seemed to drive all anxiety and fear for my own safety out of my head. Even when one shell burst very near, and the smoke and fumes drifted in through the door of my “castle,” nearly smothering me, my chief thought was for them and my prayers were for their safety. The prophet of old never called on the good God more earnestly than I did then-Spare, O God, spare Thy people-for humanly speaking the casualties were bound to be heavy, as the whole German fire was concentrated on this one spot, evidently with the object of knocking out, I nearly said, the Bloody Pig.

“At last I could stand it no longer; I felt I must go round and see what damage had been done, though I knew I should be called if I were really wanted. The fire had slackened considerably, not more than four or five shells coming over each minute. So out I went and started down the trench. I had only taken six paces when I heard the scream of a shell coming right for me.

“Every shell has a special note. You hear some and do not even look up, for you know by the sound that they are safe overhead and will burst far away. A second makes you a wee bit anxious for a moment, till you locate its direction and knowall is well for you at least. But there is a third kind of note and when you hear it, you don’t even stop to think but dive straight for the first rat-hole or gooseberry bush, anything no matter what, which might give cover; or failing that, you dig your nose as deep as you can into the ground and try to feel small. Here the value of practical experience comes in, and many an old campaigner will save himself where a novice would come to serious harm.

“I flung myself on my face, and as I did, the ground took a jump and the sky came tumbling down from the crash that followed. I heard myself exclaiming, “Good Lord, I”m killed,” which was so obviously untrue that I burst out laughing. There is some consolation in the thought that if you do get hit or buried by a kindly crump, you hear nothing about it till someone pulls you out by the legs. So the fact that I heard the crash told me I was safe. I looked up and saw that my unwelcome visitor had fallen two feet from my own door. Had I been five seconds later, I probably would have been converted into a beautiful specimen of a cabbage strainer and at last made really hol(e)y.

“I did not go back to see how much of my crockery was left, but sped on, thanking some good soul for his prayers. A few yards further on, a substantial sod of earth-weighing, it seemed to me, a ton and a half, though it was probably less-nearly knocked all the breath out of my body. But that was a trifle, seeing it might have been a similar lump of Rhineland iron. I found three of my boys, who had been sheltering together, wounded, two of them slightly, the third rather badly. He was only a lad, and was moaning in great pain. When I had anointed him, I put my arms round the poor boy; he could not lie down, being hit in the back in several places ; and he rested his head on my breast like a little child. It seemed to ease the pain for he ceased moaning; and possibly he felt safer, for the shells were still bursting around us and he was trembling with fear. We then got him under cover of the dressing-station, and I was able to inquire about the rest. Marvellous to relate, not another man had been hit, nor was there a single other casualty at the end of the bombardment, though hundreds of shells had rained down on all sides of us, in fact lead and iron enough to have put half the British army out of action, if only they stood in the right place.” “One good result came from this attack,” Fr. Doyle observes with satisfaction, “the Pig, the cause of all our trouble, was removed next day; since when we have been left in peace.”

“I did not get my work finished till rather late tonight,” he notes under the date 4thJanuary, “and as I had to turn out again shortly it was not worth while turning in. Some of my men were to make a raid on the enemy trenches in the early hours of the morning. This is dangerous work and often results in heavy casualties, so I make it a point to go round the line and give each man Absolution before he “goes over the top.” It is a hard, anxious time and a big strain waiting for the word to be given, and I know that it is a comfort to them to see the priest come round and that a cheery word bucks them up. . . . All went well with the raid. We should have had more prisoners, only a hot-blooded Irishman is a dangerous customer when he gets behind a bayonet and wants to let daylight through everybody. I got back to my bunk at six and slept like a top till seven. Not too long, you will say; but if you come out here, you will find all the old-fashioned ideas about food and sleep and wet clothes and the rest of it rapidly vanishing. It is wonderful what you can do with a cup of tea and one hour’s sleep in the twenty-four.”

Not all his ministry, of course, involved such risks or privations. Before starting a spell in the trenches Fr. Doyle used to endeavour to get as many men as possible to Confession on the previous evening and then to Mass and Holy Communion in the morning. As one battalion was some miles from the other, this meant an early start and ride or walk, through rain, slush and snow, or, later over hardfrozen ground. “I have celebrated Mass in some strange places and under extraordinary conditions,” he writes from the trenches on 28thDecember, “but somehow I was more than usually impressed this morning. The men had gathered in what was once a small convent. For with all their faults, their devil-may-care recklessness, they love the Mass and regret when they cannot come. It was a poor miserable place, cold and wet, the only light being two small candles. Yet they knelt there and prayed as only our own Irish poor can pray, with a fervour and faith which would touch the heart of any unbeliever. They are as shy as children, and men of few words; but I know they are grateful when one tries to be kind to them and warmly appreciate all that is done for their soul’s interest.” While in the trenches Fr. Doyle was not allowed to have Mass for his men, owing to the danger of having many gathered together near the firing-line. So each morning he went back to where the reserve company was stationed, about twenty minutes” walk; which gave those who were free a chance of coming often to Holy Communion. On February 2nd, however, he was able to offer the Holy Sacrifice in the trenches, his chapel being a dugout capable of holding ten or a dozen. “But as my congregation numbered fortysix,” he says, “the vacant space was small. How they all managed to squeeze in I cannot say. There was no question of kneeling down; the men simply stood silently and reverently round the little improvised altar of ammunition boxes, “glad,” as one of them quaintly expressed it, “to have a say in it.” Surely our Lord must have been glad also, for every one of the forty-six received Holy Communion, and went back to his post happy at heart and strengthened to face the hardships of these days and nights of cold.” What a difference the Real Presence made in the ministrations and influence of a Catholic chaplain!

These Irish lads had a simple strong faith and reverence for the priest. That same afternoon (2nd Feb.) as Fr. Doyle was coming back from his round of the front-line trench, he found it necessary to get under cover as shelling began. So he crawled into a hole in which six men were already crouching. No one could have been more welcome. “Come in, Father,” cried one, “we’re safe now, anyhow.” On another similar occasion the remark was made, “ Isn’t the priest of God with us, what more do you want?” The poor fellows fancied that Fr. Doyle was invulnerable; no wonder, when they saw him sauntering coolly around amid shells and splinters. He was always near to cheer them up when depressed and nervous, and to minister to them when wounded. Here is a description of a “sick-call” in the early hours of 13th January, 1917

““Two men badly wounded in the firing line, Sir.” I was fast asleep, snugly tucked up in my blankets, dreaming a pleasant dream of something hot. One always dreams of lovely hot things at night in the trenches-sitting at a warm fire at home, or huge piles of food and drink, but always steaming hot. “You will need to be quick, Father, to find them alive.” By this time I had grasped the fact that someone was calling me, that some poor dying man needed help, that perhaps a soul was in danger. In a few seconds I had pulled on my big boots-I knew I should want them in the mud and wet-jumped into my waterproof, and darted down the trench.

“It was just 2 A.M., bitterly cold and snowing hard. God help the poor fellows holding the tumbled-in ditch which is called the front line, standing there wet and more than frozen hour after hour. But more than all, God help and strengthen the victims of this war-the wounded soldier, with his torn and bleeding body lying out in this awful biting cold, praying for the help that seems so slow in coming.

“The first part of my journey was easy enough, except that the snow made it difficult to keep one’s feet; and I began to realise that one cannot run as easily at forty-four as one could at twenty-four. All went well till I reached a certain part of the trench, which rejoices in the attractive name of Suicide Corner, from the fact that the Germans have a machine gun trained on it, and at intervals during the night, pump a shower of lead on the spot in the hope of knocking out some chance passer-by. It was just my luck that, as I came near this place, I heard the rat-tat-tat of the beastly gun and the whizz of the pawing bullets. It was not a pleasant prospect to run the gauntlet and skip through the bullets. But what priest would hesitate for a second, with two dying men set the end of the trench? I ducked my head and “chivvied” down that trench. (I do not know what this word means, but I believe it implies terrific speed and breathless excitement.)

“In the dark and at that distance I was quite invisible to the German gunner. I think the Old Boy himself was turning the handle that night; but luckily for me he was out of practice; the cold, I suppose, upset his aim. Away on my left, as I ran, I could hear in the stillness of the night the grinding rat-tat-tat of the machine gun, for all the world as if a hundred German carpenters were driving nails into my coffin; while overhead crack-crack whizz-whizz went the bullets, tearing after one another for fear they would be late. It was a novel experience to have a whole machine gun all to myself. But it is a pleasure I am not particularly anxious to repeat. At the same time I do not think I was really in very great danger as, judging by the sound, the leaden shower was going too high.

“The guns make all movement by night very unpleasant. Both sides have any number of them firing all night from time to time at fixed points; for example, cross-roads, dumps, light railways, etc., everywhere in fact where men are likely to be. Yet in spite of the fact that each fires about ten thousand rounds each night and bullets are flying about like mosquitoes, it is very rare indeed that anyone is hit, weeks at a time passing without a casualty, and scarcely ever if one takes ordinary precautions.

“The first man was in extremis when I reached him. I did all I could for him, and commended his soul to the merciful God, as he had only a few moments to live. Then I hurried on to find the other wounded boy. A journey along the firing-line in the day-time is not an easy matter ; but in the darkness of the night it baffles description. A star-shell gave me light from time to time and then I made good progress, only to end in blackness and a pool or a shell-hole full of mud and water.

“I found the dying lad-he was not much more-so tightly jammed into a corner of the trench that it was almost impossible to get him out. Both legs were smashed, one in two or three places, so his chances of life were small, and there were other injuries as well. What a harrowing picture that scene would have made. A splendid young soldier, married only a month they told me, lying there, pale and motionless in the mud and water with the life crushed out of him by a cruel shell. The stretcher bearers hard at work binding up, as well as they may, his broken limbs; round about a group of silent Tommies looking on and wondering when will their turn come. Peace for a moment seems to have taken possession of the battlefield, not a sound save the deep boom of some far-off gun and the stifled moans of the dying boy, while, as if anxious to hide the scene, nature drops her soft mantle of snow on the living and dead alike.

“Then, while every head is bared, come the solemn words of Absolution, “Ego te absolvo, I absolve thee from thy sins. Depart Christian soul, and may the Lord Jesus Christ receive thee with a smiling and benign countenance. Amen.” Oh! surely the gentle Saviour did receive with open arms the brave lad, who had laid down his life for Him, and as I turnedaway I felt happy in the thought that his soul was already safe in that land where “God will wipe away all sorrow from our eyes, for weeping and mourning shall be no more.””

Early in March, 1917, Fr. Doyle secured another ten days” leave and was able to pay a short visit-his last-to Ireland. An incident of this visit is recorded by a Scholastic of the Province of Sicily, who was studying at Rathfarnham Castle where Fr. Doyle stopped while in Ireland.

“I shall never forget the last time I saw Fr. Willie. It was the morning he was returning to the Front after his last leave home. We Juniors at the Castle had gathered in the hall to give him a rousing send-off. As he had not yet come down, I slipped into the chapel for a visit. There I found him. He was in uniform, standing at the altar, and knocking at the Tabernacle door most gently. It was his loving farewell to his Eucharistic Lord. I was greatly moved and edified at his simplicity and at his love for Jesus.”

On his return to the Front, Fr. Doyle chronicles for his father the demise of his famous dugout. “My dear little dug-out up in the trenches has vanished. It did not fall gloriously in battle, pierced through with a shell or blown sky-high by a cunningly driven mine-shaft. It did not even crumble away slowly, worn out by old age and labours like its venerable owner. It was ignominiously laid low by a common pick and shovel.

I loved my tiny sand-bag hut, even though the roof was wondrous low and you had almost to put your legs outside the door if you wanted to stretch them. It would have given about as much protection as a cardboard box, had a shell hit it plump. But once inside I felt quite “comfy,” even when falling trumps made its poor sides quiver and shake again. Many a time, during the long hard winter, have I crept in out of the bitter cold with a sigh of relief, happy in the thought that the snow at least could not reach me there.

“However, by an unlucky chance, this house on the hill stood apparently in the direct line of fire of a German battery. They landed four shells in front of the “hall-door,” fortunately dropping them over the sand-bag wall in front, which saved the homestead considerably. They bashed in the trench a foot behind the house. Twice they smashed the trench a few yards in front, and once one biggish shell cut clean in two our beautiful tree which spreads its arms over the room, tearing the back out of the patient dug-out. As the tree was a good eight inches or more in diameter, it was just as well it got the first smack.

“Shortly afterwards the General came along and seeing the state of affairs, told the Padre to get him gone out of the danger zone, which I am sorry to say the disobedient Padre did not do; and then gave orders for the house to be pulled down, even though he had to admit that not a penny of rent was due. I felt there was little use in my trying to prove to the General that his fears were quite unfounded and that there was absolutely no danger. But I do not mind telling you the cause of my security. I have a first-class guardian angel; which is not to be wondered at since you and darling Mother baptised me Gabriel. Whoever he is, he is a real decent chap, and has done his work well. When the shelling begins, I send him out to sit on top of the roof. He does not like it a bit, but he goes all the same and then takes it out of me. Sometimes I hear him give a whistle or whatever angels do in that way; and he shouts down, “Look out, Bill, there’s a big one coming.” I know he only does that to frighten me, to try to get the wind up, as they say. So I shout back, “Go to heaven!”-for I suppose you can’t send a respectable angel any place else; and we remain the best of friends. He is the best back-stop I ever met; but then he has the advantage of a big pair of wings to swish off the nasty dangerous ones to a safe distance. I am sorry to say he has lost his job now, for the morning I came out of the trenches the homestead was laid low. But I have promised to take him on again and to give him plenty to do before the summer is over!”

He was only a week back in the trenches after his short trip home, when the 48th Brigade received welcome orders to move to the rear for a rest. The rest, however, seems to have consisted chiefly of extra drill, apparently, preparation for the coming offensive. “We left Belgium,” he writes, “on the Saturday before Palm Sunday (i.e., 31st March)-a glorious morning, dry under foot, with brilliant sunshine. The Brigade of four regiments made a gallant show, each headed by its band of pipers, and followed by the transport, etc. We were the first to move off, and so came in for an extra share of greetings from the villagers who turned out to see us pass, as fine a lot of sturdy lads as you could wish to gaze on, not to mention the gallant chaplain.

“Our march for the first day was not a very long one, something about 20 miles, but as every pace took us further and further from the trenches, the march was a labour of love. At midday a halt was called for dinner, which had been cooking slowly in the travelling kitchens which accompanied us, and in a few minutes every man was sitting by the road-side negotiating a big supply of hot meat and potatoes with a substantial chunk of bread. We poor officers were left to hunt for ourselves, a hunt which did not promise well at first, as the people in the estaminets were anything but friendly and said they had nothing to give us to eat. The reason, I discovered later, was that some British officers had gone away without paying their bill, a not uncommon thing, I am sorry to say. Eventually, with the help of a little palaver and my bad French, our party secured some excellent bread and butter, coffee, and a basket of fresh eggs. On again after an hour’s rest.

“Marching with a heavy rifle and full kit is no joke, hence our pace is slow. I often wonder how the poor men stick it, and stick it they do, most of them at least, till I have seen them drop senseless by the road from sheer exhaustion. As a rule they are left there to follow the column as best they can, for if they knew that falling out meant a lift, not many of the regiment would reach their destination on foot. To make matters worse we had to tramp along over the rough paved roads, which must be an invention of the Old Boy to torture people. At first the road feels like this: mmmmm; then after ten miles: eeeeenee; till at last you are positive that they have paved the way with spikes instead of stones, something in this fashion: AAAAAAAAA. My poor feet!

“At last the town we were bound for came in sight, and hopes of a good rest were high, when word came along that we were not to stay in that haven of peace and plenty but trudge on another three miles. The camel is supposed to be a patient animal, but Tommy can give him points any day. Our lodging was a mutilated country farmhouse, dirty and uncomfortable, the less said about it the better, but everyone was too tired to care much even though we officers, snoring on the floor, felt inclined to envy the sardines in their comfortable box.

“It was impossible to have Mass for the men in the morning, even though it was Palm Sunday, as there was much work to be done and we had to be off early. I got away to the little village and offered up the Holy Sacrifice for them, emptied a coffee-pot, and fell into my place as the regiment marched off. That was a hard day. We were all stiff and sore for want of previous exercise, and in addition were well scourged by sleet, and rain, and snow, though at times the sun did its best to brighten things up a bit. Our luck turned when we reached our night’s halting place, a good-sized town with comfortable billets. A big party of my men were quartered in the public ball-room, which contained an automatic organ. The last I saw of them was ascore of “couples” waltzing round quite gaily, without a sign of having the best part of a forty-mile march to their credit.

“Monday saw us early afoot. Nothing of great interest, except that the country was becoming more hilly and prettier, the stones harder, our feet and shoulders sore; quite a longing for the repose of the trenches was springing up in many a heart. That evening ended our tramp, and here we have been ever since, and are to remain for some time longer, much to our joy. Probably we shall return to the same place we came from, but no one really knows our future movements.”

“Here” was a little village in the Pas de Calais called Nordausques, on the right (east) of the main Saint-Omer-Calais road, about ten miles from each of these places. During this fortnight, away from the sound of the guns, Fr. Doyle had a very busy time. So indeed had the men. “The morning,” he says, “is given up to various exercises, one of which is the storming of a dummy German trench to the accompaniment of fearful blood-curdling yells, enough to terrify the bravest enemy. The afternoon is spent at football and athletic sports, so that the men are having a good, if strenuous time. So is the poor padre. My two regiments are quartered in two villages some miles apart, the four companies of each regiment in different hamlets, and to make things more inconvenient still, the two platoons of each company, thirty-two in all, are distributed in as many farmhouses. You can imagine I have no easy task to get round to see all my men, which I am anxious to do, so as to make sure that every man, if possible, gets to his Easter Duty. I have Mass every morning for them with many Communions daily, seventy today in one church; and then in the evening, having finished Devotions in one village and heard the men’s Confessions, I ride over to the other for Rosary and Benediction, with more Confessions. In addition to this, there are many stray units scattered about in various places, machine-gunners, trench-mortar battery men, etc., who, with the instruction of converts, prevent me from feeling time hanging on my hands.”

This brief sojourn in the Pas de Calais enabled Fr. Doyle to celebrate Holy Week and Easter fittingly, and thus to bring into these poor fellows” rest-intervals emotions higher than those involved in rehearsals for future bloodshed. “On Spy Wednesday evening,” he recounts, “after Benediction, I told the men I wanted nine volunteers to watch an hour during the following night before the Altar of Repose. I had barely finished speaking when the whole church made a rush up to the altar-rails, and were keenly disappointed when I told them I could only take the first nine, though I could have had thirty an hour if I wanted them. I was touched by the poor fellows” generosity, for they had just finished a long, hard day’s work with more before them. I got the nine men to bring their blankets into the little sacristy and while one watched, the others slept. Surely our Lord must have been pleased with His Guard of Honour, and will bless them as only He can.”

“Easter Sunday,” he continues, “ was quite a red-letter day in the annals of the town. The regiment turned out in full strength, headed by the pipers, and crowded the sanctuary, every inch of the church, and out beyond. I had eight stalwart sergeants standing guard with fixed bayonets round the altar. At the Consecration and also at the Communion of the Mass, the buglers sounded the Royal Salute which is only given to Monarchs. The guard at the word of command presented arms, and in our poor humble way we tried to do honour to the Almighty King of Kings on the day of His glorious triumph. I must not forget to add that the lassies and maidens did us the honour of coming to sing during Mass, casting many an envious glance (so rumour says) down on the handsome Irish lads praying so devoutedly below.”

No wonder that Fr. Doyle wrote a little later: “The faith and fervour of our Irish lads have made a great impression everywhere. I was once quite delighted to hear the Curé rubbing it into his congregation, drawing a contrast between them and the Irish soldiers much to the disadvantage of the former.” On Easter Sunday the good Curé received a very tangible proof of Irish faith, for his collection bag contained a very unprecedented number of silver coins and five-franc notes.

The quiet if strenuous interlude amid the hills and pine-woods of the Pas de Calais came to an end all too soon. Low Sunday saw the men once more on their traditional march, to the tune of cold pelting rain. That night a halt was made close to Saint Omer, which gave Fr. Doyle an opportunity of visiting the twelfth-century Church and the old Jesuit College from which Stonyhurst was founded. The final stage of the journey was very trying, the men “had to face the cobble-stones atsix in the morning, with a hurricane of rain and sleet which slashed like a whip,” and arrived near Locre after tramping for eight hours without a morsel of food. Once more life in and out of the trenches began. “We have not had such a quiet time for the past fifteen months,” records Fr. Doyle thankfully.

During the first fortnight of May the whole 48th Brigade-consisting of 2nd, 8th, and 9th R. Dublin Fusiliers and 6–7th Irish Rifles-was out of the trenches. The 2nd and 8th Dublins were in Locre and the 9th were at Clare Camp less than two miles west of Locre; the Rifles were at Kemmel, three miles east of Locre.

Fr. Doyle thus secured a few free days and, as he tells his father, decided “to make a little excursion and to pay a visit to the dear good nuns at Amettes, who were so kind to me on my first arrival in France. It was a trifle of some eighty kilometres (about fifty miles) of a journey. But the weather being glorious, dry and not too hot, I thought little of it as I mounted my bicycle and started to trundle my twenty-odd stone along the roads of France.

“I reached the convent late in the evening, after a most enjoyable and restful ride through the country, away from the din and roar of war. The Sister who opened the door looked at me in a dazed, frightened sort of way. “I remember you perfectly, Father,” she said, “but I think I had better let Mother know first.” Then she vanished like a flash, leaving me rather mystified. In a few moments Mother and all her chicks came swarming in “Mais, mon Père, you are dead! We saw in the paper that you were killed by a shell-Pere Doyle, S.J., n‘est-ce pas?” I then told her about Fr. Denis Doyle, S.J., who, God rest his soul, has got me so many Masses and prayers by mistake. Thereupon we all fell upon each other’s necks. The convent larder was next emptied; and for a dead man I did remarkably well, ending with a glorious sleep. I spent most of the next day wandering round the country, with a visit to the home and shrine of the beggarman saint, Benedict Joseph Labre. I often think he must be nearly mad with envy watching us in the trenches, surrounded, walked on and sat upon by his “pets.” But from the same pets deliver us, O Lord, as speedily as may be, this coming hot weather!

“On my way home I took in Noeux-les-Mines, and heard from the Curé-who, by the way, looked very uncomfortable and made a grab for the holy water when I appeared from the dead-the whole story of his Church and our Lady’s statue. Before we left the Loos district our Divisional Commander, General Hickie, suggested that all ranks should subscribe towards a memorial of our stay there and a monument to the memory of the men who had fallen in action. This was to take the form of a life-size statue of our Lady of Victories, to be carved in white marble by the best Paris sculptor and erected in the Church of Noeux-les-Mines, where the Divisional Headquarters were, with the names of the fallen inscribed on the pedestal. We are all to receive a small book containing a photo of the statue, the names of the subscribers, etc., which will be a pleasing memento of the 16th Irish Division.

“On Passion Sunday the men arrived with the box, and asked the Curé where he wished our Lady of Victories to be erected. As it was only a quarter of an hour before High Mass, he told them to come back later. Then he turned into his own garden, a few yards away, to finish his Office. The Mass servers were playing outside the Church which at the moment was empty-the sacristan having finished his preparations had lately left-when a 15-inch shell fired from a German naval gun crashed through the wall and exploded in the sanctuary. As a rule, shells burst on impact; but this, being an armour piercing shell, came through the wall like paper and exploded inside with results impossible to describe.

“When I went into the ruin, I exclaimed, “M. le Curé, “surely you have had fifty shells in here!” “No,” he answered, “only one; the havoc you see is the work of a single shot.” Not a trace remains of the beautiful altar, where I so often offered the Holy Sacrifice. The carved stalls, the altar-rails, benches and chairs are smashed into splinters, the roof and parts of the walls are stripped of plaster. I have never seen such a scene of destruction; the explanation being that the explosion took place inside the Church and the liberated gases rushed round like ten thousand mad animals, rending and tearing all they met, seeking for an exit. The building is nearly as large as Kingstown Church, but from end to end it is a perfect ruin. Pictures, statues, organ, all are gone; the door of the sacristy was blown in and the vestments torn to ribbons, while not a particle remains of the beautiful stained glass which filled the twenty large windows.

“There is just one ray of comfort in this sad destruction: not a life was lost. Ten minutes later the Church would have been crowded with civilians and soldiers; probably few of them would have been touched with bits of shell, but not a soul would have been left alive by the shock. I have seen men on the battlefield, sometimes a row at a time, standing or leaning against a trench, untouched by bullet or shrapnel, killed simply by the force of an exploding shell. You can picture the result in a strong enclosed building.

“Here, as in so many other places, God again showed His power in a wonderful way. Quite near the altar stood a magnificent Calvary. One arm of the Crucified is torn off, but otherwise neither the figure nor the cross is injured. Poor St. John got badly smashed up, and St. Mary Magdalen has a bullet through her heart, the very thing she would have asked for. But our Blessed Lady, with the exception of a slight scratch on one hand, “stands by the cross,” absolutely untouched in the midst of all the havoc and ruin. The shell fell in the sanctuary, blowing the altar to bits. After much searching and digging among the debris, the tabernacle was found whole and entire; inside, the ciborium was standing upright, not even the cover having been knocked off, and the Consecrated Particles in perfect order, though the tabernacle must have been blown to the ceiling.”

Fr. Doyle was soon back in Belgium among his men, who were enjoying their respite from the trenches. The two chaplains, Fr. Browne and Fr. Doyle, availed themselves of this interval to organise Month of May devotions for the men. Every evening they had rosary, hymns, short sermons on the titles of our Lady’s Litany, and Benediction, followed by more hymns-the “boys” liked to hear their own voices. “One result of the devotions,” writes Fr. Doyle, “has been the conversion of the only really black sheep in the regiment, a man very many years away from his duty, a hard, morose character, upon whom I had many times failed to make any impression. I saw it was useless to argue with him, so at the beginning of the month I handed him over to the Blessed Virgin as a hopeless case with which she alone could deal. Last evening I met him and thought I would try once more to make him see the awful danger he was running of losing his soul. It was all no use, the devil had his prey too tightly held to shake off like that. Then a thought struck me, “Look here,” I said, “this is the month of May; you surely won’t refuse our Blessed Lady.” The poor fellow fell on his knees , and there and then made his confession. I gave him Holy Communion, and now he is a changed man, as happy as a lark.”

Long before the titles of our Lady’s Litany were exhausted , it was time to return to the trenches. At the conclusion of such a respite the chaplain used to give General Absolution. In a letter written to his father ,about this time Fr. Doyle thus describes and comments on the touching scene.

“We reap a good harvest with confessions every day, at any time the men care to come, but there are many who for one reason or another cannot get away, hence before going into the trenches, which nearly always means death for some poor fellows, we give them a General Absolution. I do not think there can be a more touching or soul-inspiring sight than to see a whole regiment go down on their knees, to hear the wave of prayer go up to Heaven, as hundreds of voices repeat the Act of Contrition in unison, “My God, I am heartily sorry that I have ever offended You.” There is an earnestness and depth of feeling in their voices, which tells of real sorrow, even if one did not see the tears gather in the eyes of more than one brave man. And then the deep, reverent silence as the priest raises his hand over the bowed heads and pronounces the words of forgiveness. Human nature is ever human nature, and even Irish soldiers commit sins; you can picture then the feelings of any priest standing before that kneeling throng, knowing that by the power of God his words have washed every soul pure and white. I love to picture the foul garments of sin falling from every man there at the words of Absolution, and to watch the look of peace and happiness on the men’s faces as they lift their rifles and fall into rank, ready for anything, even “to meet the divil himself,” as my friend of long ago shouted out as he marched by me. Don’t you agree with me that the consolations and real joys of my life far outweigh the hard things and privations, even if there were no “little nest-egg” being laid up in a better and happier world?”

It is when we read such an extract that we most clearly realise the inner motive-power which sustained Fr. Doyle amid “the hard things and privations,” far more irksome and painful to him than to one mentally less idealistic or physically less highly strung and sensitive. He was brave and untiring, not because he found life congenial, but because he found it so hard. His interests were concentrated on his mission to be “another Christ”; this was the ideal in whose consuming fire all other ideals werefused. “I can say with all truth,” he wrote, “I have never spent a happier year. For though I have occasionally felt as if the limit of endurance were reached, I have never lost my good spirits, which have helped me over many a rough road.” He needed all his courage. What a life it was! From extremes of heat to unimagined depths of cold; for days water above, below, everywhere, and then from this aquatic misery to burning sun and parching thirst. There were long tramps by day, with pack and equipment growing heavier each hour, till one became a mass of sweat and mud; nights without sleep, burying the dead or stumbling along trenches to minister to the dying; nights too, made hideous by bursting shells or the still more terrible warning of approaching poison-gas. Our thoughts go back to Paul of Tarsus, whose life was spent “in journeying often, in perils of waters, in perils of robbers, . . . in labour and painfulness, in much watchings, in hunger and thirst, in fasting often, in cold and nakedness.” (II Cor. xi. 26.) Yet, as Fr. Doyle pointed out, these physical sufferings were light in comparison with that constant sense of insecurity and suspense, the strain of being never really out of danger for miles behind the front, the oppressive feeling of waitingfor the stroke of an uplifted sword. “Pain and privation,” he writes, “are only momentary, they quickly pass and become even delightfully sweet, if only borne in the spirit with which many of my grand boys take these things: “Shure, Father, it’s not worth talking about; after all, is it not well to have some little thing to suffer for God and His Blessed Mother?”“ But the craven fear which at times clutches the heart, the invol- untary shrinking and dread of human nature at danger and even death, are things which cannot be expressed in words. An officer, who had gone through a good deal himself, said to me recently: “I never realised before what our Lord must have suffered in the Garden of Gethsemane when He began to fear and grow sorrowful.” Yet His grace is always there to help one when most needed, and though the life is hard and trying at times, I have never ceased to thank Him for the privilege (I can call it nothing else) of sharing in this glorious work.”

In a letter written to his father on 25th July, he invites him to come in spirit with him on a visit to the trenches. He is thus led to describe a typical incident of his “glorious work,” which must have been as consoling to the father as it was to the son. “There is a party coming towards us down the trench,” he writes; “and they have the right of way, we must squeeze into a corner to let them pass. A poor wounded fellow lies on a stretcher with death already stamped on his face. The bearers lay their burden gently down-these rough men have the tender hearts of a woman for the wounded-reverently uncover their heads and withdraw a little as the priest kneels behind the dying man’s head. A glance at the identity-disc on his wrist, stamped with his name, regiment, and religion, shows that he is a Catholic- for there are few men, no matter what their belief, who do not carry a rosary or a Catholic medal round their necks. I wonder what the non-Catholic Padres think of this fearful increase of Idolatry! “Ah, Father, is that you? Thanks be to God for His goodness in sending you; my heart was sore to die without the priest. Father”-the voice was weak and came in gasps-”Father, oh, I am glad now, I always tried to live a good life, it makes death so easy.” The Rites of the Church were quickly administered though it was hard to find a sound spot on that poor smashed face for the Holy Oils, and my hands were covered with his blood. The moaning stopped; I have noticed that a score of times, as if the very touch of the anointing brought relief. I pressed the crucifix to his lips as he murmured after me: “My Jesus, mercy,” and then as I gave him the Last Blessing, his head fell back, and the loving arms of Jesus were pressing to His Sacred Heart the soul of another of His friends, who I trust will not forget, amid the joys of Heaven, him who was sent across his path to help him in his last moments.

“It is little things like this which help one over the hard days and sweeten a life which has little in it naturally attractive. If you had come up the trench with me twelve months ago on the morning of the gas attack and watched that same scene repeated hour after hour, I think you would have thanked God for the big share you have in the salvation of so many souls.”

We are able to narrate one or two incidents of “this glorious work” which occurred at this period. “The enemy for once did me a good turn,” he writes on 22ndMay. “I had arranged to hear the men’s confessions shortly before he opened fire, and a couple of well-directed shells helped my work immensely by putting the fear of God into the hearts of a few careless boys who might not have troubled about coming near me otherwise. I wonder were the Sacraments ever administered under stranger circumstances? Picture my little dug-out (none too big at any time) packed with men who had dashed in for shelter from the splinters and shrapnel coming down like hail. In one corner is kneeling a poor fellow recently joined-who has not “knelt to the priest,” as the men quaintly say, for many a day-trying to make his Confession. I make short work of that, for a shower of clay and stones falling at the door is a gentle hint that the “crumps” are getting uncomfortably near, and I want to give him Absolution in case an unwelcome visitor should walk in. Then, while the ground outside rocks and seems to split with the crash of shells, I give them all Holy Communion, say a short prayer, and perform the wonderful feat of packing a few more into our sardine-tin of a house.

As soon as I got the chance, I slipped round to see how many casualties there were, for I thought not a mouse could survive the bombardment. Thank God, no one was killed or even badly hit, and the firing having ceased, we could breathe again. I was walking up the trench from the dressing-station when I suddenly heard the scream of another shell . . . It was then I realized my good fortune. There are two ways to my dug-out, and naturally I choose the shorter. This time, without any special reason, I went by the longer way; and it was well I did, for the shell pitched in the other trench, and probably would have caught me nicely as I went by. But instead of that it wreaked its vengeance on my unfortunate orderly, who was close by in his dug-out, sending him spinning on his head but otherwise not injuring him. I found another string of men awaiting my return in order to get Confession and Holy Communion. In fact I had quite a busy evening, thanks once more to Fritz’s High Explosive, which has a wonderful persuasive effect of its own. I am wondering how many pounds of H.E. I shall require when giving my next retreat!

Before describing an exploit of Fr. Doyle in rendering spiritual aid to a raiding party we shall give his description of a raid. “As you might like to know,” he tells his father on 29thMay, “how the game of raiding your neighbour is played, a sort of novelty for your next garden-party, I shall give you a few particulars. You dig two trenches about a hundred yards apart, and fill one with the enemy, who are well provided with hand bombs, machine guns, etc. Some night when you think they won’t expect your coming, a party of your men climb over the top of their parapet and start to crawl á la Red Indian towards the foe. It is exciting work, for star shells are going up every few minutes and lighting up No Man’s Land, during which time your men lie on their faces motionless, probably cursing the inventor of the said star shells and praying for black darkness. It is part of the game that if the enemy see you, they promptly paste you with bombs (which hurt) or give you a shower-bath of leaden bullets. For this reason, when the game is played at garden-parties, it is recommended to place husbands in one trench and wives in the other and to oppose P.P.”s or Rev. Mothers to their curates and communities; in this way accuracy of aim is wonderfully improved and the casualties become delightfully high, which (in these days) is a desideratum when supper hour arrives.

“Having reached a certain distance, the raiders wait for the artillery barrage to open. That is a sight never to be forgotten. At a fixed moment every gun opens fire simultaneously with a crash that shakes the heavens, and for five minutes the enemy’s trench is from end to end a line of fire lit up by the hundreds of bursting shells. Then the barrage lifts like a curtain to the second trench to keep back reinforcements, while the attackers dash through the cut barbed wire over into the trench, sometimes to meet with a stout opposition in spite of the awful shelling, sometimes only finding the bleeding remains of what was once a brave man. Dugouts are bombed if their occupants won’t come out, papers and maps secured, prisoners captured if possible-to be questioned later for information which seems to be freely and foolishly given; and then the raiders, carrying their own dead and wounded, get back as quickly as they can to their own lines; for by this time the enemy artillery has opened fire and things are lively.”

He then proceeds to describe an adventure of his in which, he thinks, “there was really little danger.” “A few nights ago,” he writes, “I had been along the front line as usual to give the men a General Absolution which they are almost as anxious to receive for the comfort it will be for their friends at home, should they fall, as for themselves. I was coming down to the advanced dressingstation, when I learned that a small party had “gone over the top” on our right, though I had been told the raid was only from the left. When I got to the spot I found they had all gone and were lying well out in No Man’s Land. It was a case of Mahomet and the mountain once more. The poor “mountain” could not come back, though they were just longing to, but the prophet could go out, could he not? So Mahomet rolled over the top of the sandbags into a friendly shell-hole, and started to crawl on his hands and knees and stomach towards the German trenches. Mahomet, being only a prophet, was allowed to use bad language, of which privilege he availed himself, so report goes, to the full, for the ground was covered with bits of broken barbed wire, shell splinters, nettles, etc., etc., and the poor prophet on his penitential pilgrimage left behind him much honest sweat and not a few drops of blood.

“That was a strange scene! A group of men lying on their faces, waiting for certain death to come to some of them, whispering a fervent act of contrition, and God’s priest, feeling mighty uncomfortable and wishing he were safely in bed a thousand miles away, raising his hand in Absolution over the prostrate figures. One boy, some little distance off, thinking the Absolution had not reached him, knelt bolt upright, and made an act of contrition you could have heard in Berlin, nearly giving the whole show away and drawing the enemy’s fire.

There was really little danger, as shell-holes were plentiful, but not a little consolation when I buried the dead next day to think that none of them had died without Absolution. I was more afraid getting back into our own trenches; for sentries, seeing a man coming from the direction of No Man’s Land, do not bother much about asking questions, and object to nocturnal visitors.”

The next night (24th May) another raid was made, and Fr. Doyle recounts how he was able to help a poor prisoner.

“One German prisoner, badly wounded in the leg, was brought in,” he writes. “He knew only a few words of English, but spoke French fluently. I try to do all I can for the unfortunate prisoners, as sometimes not much sympathy is shown them, and they have evidently been drilled into believing that we promptly roast and eat them alive. I gave him a drink, made him as comfortable as possible, and then, seeing a rosary in his pocket, asked him was he a Catholic. “I am a Catholic priest,” I said, “and you need not have any fear.” “Ah, monsieur, he replied, “vous êtres un vrai prêtre” (you are a true priest). He gave me his home address in Germany, and asked me to write to his parents. “Poor father and mother will be uneasy,” he said, as his eyes filled with tears. “O mon Dieu, how I am suffering, but I offer it all up to You.” I hope to get a letter through by means of the Swiss Red Cross, which will be a comfort to his anxious parents, who seem good pious souls.”

One other quotation will give a further little illustration of Fr. Doyle’s ministry while his men were in reserve. Early on the morning of Sunday, 3rd June, they were relieved, after a rather strenuous time of sixteen days in the frontline, more than usually trying for want of sleep. As Mass for the men was not till midday, Fr. Doyle had “planned a glorious soak in the convent, an unblushing gluttonous feast of blankets, for the poor old tired “oss.” But through some misunderstanding his orderly did not turn up with his horse, so he had to trudge back with his heavy pack. On reaching his billet at 2 A.M., he found the door of his room locked. “I had not the heart to wake up the poor nuns,” he says; “and after all when one is fast asleep, is not a hard plank just as soft as a feather bed? You see I am becoming a bit of a philosopher!” “The next morning,” he continues, “I had Mass in a field close to the camp. I wish you could have seen the men as they knelt in a hollow square round the improvised altar, brilliant sunshine overhead, and the soft green of spring about them. They looked so happy, poor lads, as I went down one line and up the other, giving them the Bread of the Strong, and I could not help thinking of another scene long ago when our Lord made the multitude sit down on the grass, and fed them miraculously with the seven loaves. Before I got to the end of my 700 Communions I felt wondrous pity for the twelve Apostles, for they must have been jolly tired also.

“At present I am living in the camp which is further back even than the convent, out in the green fields of country, most peaceful and restful. I have a little tent to myself, but have Rosary, Mass, Confessions, etc., out in the open. The men have absolutely no human respect, and kneel in rows waiting for their turn “to scrape,” as if they were in the church at home, paying no heed to the endless stream of traffic. I am sure non-Catholics must wonder what on earth we are at.”

“To save you unnecessary anxiety,” Fr. Doyle wrote to his father on 11thJune, “I told you in my last note that we were again on the march, which was quite true, but the march was not backwards but towards the enemy. When I wrote we were on the eve on one of the biggest battles of the war, details of which you will have read in the morning papers.” In another confidential letter of the same date (11thJune), however, he was more communicative. “I have not told them at home,” he wrote, “and do not want them to know, but we have had a terrible time for the last three weeks, constant and increasing shelling, with many wonderful escapes. We are on the eve of a tremendous battle and the danger will be very great. Sometimes I think God wishes the actual sacrifice of my life-the offering of it was made long ago. But if so, that almost useless life will be given most joyfully. I feel wonderful peace and confidence in leaving myself absolutely in God’s Hands. Only I know it would not be right, I would like never to take shelter from bursting-shells; and up to a few days ago, till ordered by the Colonel, I never wore a steel helmet. I want to give myself absolutely to Him to do with me just as He pleases, to strike or kill me, as He wishes, trying to go along bravely and truthfully, looking up into His loving Face, for surely He knows best. On the other hand I have the conviction, growing stronger every day, that nothing serious will befall me; a wound would bejoy, “to shed one’s blood for Jesus,” when I would gladly empty my veins for Him. Otherwise why would He impress so strongly on my mind that this “novitiate” out here is only the preparation for my real life’s work? Why does He put so many schemes and plans into my mind? Why has He mapped out several little books, one of which will do great good, I believe, because every word will be His? Then the possibilities of the Holy Childhood have gripped me, and His little perishing souls, 10,000 a day, seem ever to be pleading for sight of Jesus! Yet I have laid even the desire to do these things at His Feet, and I strive might and main to have no will but His, for this pleases Him most. I am very calm and trustful in face of the awful storm so soon to burst. But could it be otherwise, when He is ever with me, and when I know that should I fall, it will only be into His arms of love?”

Fr. Doyle atoned for his previous reticence by sending his father, immediately after the battle, a rather long account of his own experiences during the few weeks prior to the attack of 7th June, as well as during the actual engagement.

“For months past preparations on a gigantic scale were being made for the coming attack, every detail of which the Germans knew. For some reason or other they left us in comparative peace for a long time, and then suddenly started to shell us day and night.

“We had just gone into the line for our eight days, and a lively week it was. How we escaped uninjured from the rain of shells which fell round about us, I do not know. The men had practically no shelter, as their dug-outs would scarcely keep out a respectable fat bullet, not to speak of a nine or twelve-inch shell (this is the diameter of the shell-base, not its length), and used to run to me for protection like so many big children with a confidence I was far from feeling, that the “priest” was a far better protection than yards of reinforced concrete. I have come back to my little home more than once in the early hours of the morning to find it packed with twolegged smoking “sardines,” quite happy and content in spite of Fritz’s crumps, to be greeted with the remark: “We were just saying, Father, that this is a lucky dugout, and it is well for us that we have your Reverence with us.” God bless them for their simple faith and trust in Him, for I feel I owe it to my brave boys that we were not blown sky-high twenty times. In fact the “Padre’s Dug-out” was quite a standing joke among the officers, who used to come after a strafe to see how much of it was left.

“Our next eight days in support were even worse, as the Germans had brought up more guns, and used them freely. Our Headquarters was a good-sized house, which had never been touched since the war began, being well screened by a wood behind. We were in the middle of dinner the first evening, when in quick succession half a dozen shells burst close around. It was only later on we learned the reason for this unexpected attack. One of the officers, in spite of strict orders to the contrary, had gone on a raid with a map in his pocket on which he had marked various positions, our H.Q. among others. He was captured, and “the fat was in the fire.” Owing to someone’s carelessness no provision had been made for protection against bombardment, and we had to stand in the open with our backs against a brick wall, watching the shells pitching right and left and in front, wondering when would our turn come.

“Three or four times each night at a couple of hours” interval the torture began afresh, just as one was dozing off to sleep, sending men and officers flying for safety to the “shady side” of the house. Shelling in the open or in a trench is not so pleasant, but this was horrible, for we knew the guns were searching for the spot so obligingly marked on our map. One morning about 2 A.M. I had gone down the road to look after some men, when two shells smashed in the roof of the house I had left, killing five of our staff, and nearly knocking out the Colonel and two other officers. We got shelter in another Mess only to find that this was a marked spot, too, though the aim was not so accurate.

“All during this time our guns were keeping up the bombardment of the Wytschaete Village and Ridge, which the 16th Irish Division were to storm. I think I am accurate in saying that not for ten minutes at any time during these sixteen days did the roar of our guns cease. At times one or two batteries would keep the ball rolling, and then with a majestic crash every gun, from the rasping field-piece up to the giant fifteen-inch howitzer, would answer to the call of battle, till not only the walls of the ruined houses shook and swayed, but the very ground quivered. You may fancy the amount of rest and sleep we got during that period, seeing that we lived in front of the cannon, many of them only a few yards away, while the Germans with clock-work regularity pelted us with shells from behind. If you want to know what a real headache is like, or to experience the pleasure of every nerve in your body jumping about like so many mad cats, take the shilling, and spend a week or two near the next position we hope to capture.

“All things come to an end, and at last we finished our sixteen days” Limbo (Purgatory is not near enough to Hell!) and marched back to the rest camp with tongues, to vary the metaphor, hanging out for sleep. That night a villainous enemy airman dropped bombs close to our tents, and the following day the guns shelled us, far back as we were. We must be a bad lot, for “there is no rest for the wicked,” they say. For once my heart stood still with fear, not so much for myself as for the poor men. There we were on the side of a hill, four regiments crowded together, our only protection the canvas walls of our tents, with big shells creeping nearer and nearer.

“Orders had been given to scatter, but it takes time to disperse some 4,000 men, and one well-aimed shell would play havoc in such a crowd. Forgive me for mentioning this little incident. I want to do so in gratitude, to bring out the wonderful love and tenderness of our Divine Lord for His own Irish soldiers, not to claim the smallest credit for myself. I had brought the Ciborium to my tent after Mass, as the men were coming to Confession and Holy Communion all the day. Human beings could not help us then, but He, who stilled the tempest, could do so easily. There was only time for one earnest “Lord, save my poor boys,” for at any moment the camp might be a shambles full of dead and dying, before I rushed out into the open. As I did, a shell landed a few feet behind an officer, sending him spinning, but he jumped up unhurt. A moment more down came a second, right into the middle of a group of men, and, miracle of miracles, failed to explode. A third burst so close to another party I was sure half were killed, though I must confess I never saw dead men run so fast before. And so it went on, first on one side, then on another, but at the end of the halfhour’s bombardment, not a single man of the four regiments had been hit, even slightly.

“The chances of a good night’s rest were at an end, for we had to turn out to sleep, as best we could, under the hedges and trees of the surrounding country. It was a big loss to the men, as once the attack (which was due in three days) began, there was little chance of closing an eye. We priests say a prayer at the end of our Office asking the Lord to grant noctem quietam (a peaceful night). I never fully appreciated this prayer till now, and have said it more than once lately with heart-felt earnestness.

“These few days were busy ones for us, Fr. Browns and myself. The men knew they were preparing for death, and availed themselves fully of the opportunities we were able to give them. Fortunately the weather was gloriously fine, so there was no difficulty about Mass in the open. There was a general cleaning up and polishing of souls, some of them not too shiny, a General Communion on two days for all the men and officers, with the usual rosary and prayers each evening, consoling for us, because we felt the men had done their best, and the future might be safely left in the hands of the great and merciful Judge.

“ I fancy the feelings of most of us were the same: awe, not a little fear, and a big longing to have it all over. We knew the seriousness of the task before us, for Wytschaete Hill, the key of the whole position, was regarded, even by the General Staff, as almost impregnable, and the German boast was that it would never be taken. Without detracting one bit from the dash and bravery of our Irish lads, which won unstinted praise from everyone-”The best show I have seen since I came to France,” said Sir D. Haig-full credit must be given to the artillery for pounding the defences to dust, without which our troops would still be on this side of the 300 ft. hill instead of a couple of miles on the other side. Everyone felt the losses would be severe, if not colossal, and as we sat on our hill and gazed down into the valley beyond, crammed with roaring guns, and watched the shells bursting in hundreds, knowing the moment was near for us to march down into that hell of fire and smoke, it was small wonder if many a stout heart quaked, and thoughts flew to the dear ones at home, whom one hardly hoped to see again.

“There were many little touching incidents during these days; one especially I shall not easily forget. When the men had left the field after the evening devotions, I noticed a group of three young boys, brothers, I think, all kneeling saying another rosary. They knew it was probably their last meeting on earth, and they seemed to cling to one another for mutual comfort and strength, and instinctively turned to the Blessed Mother to help them in their hour of need. There they knelt as if they were alone and unobserved, their hands clasped and faces turned towards heaven, with such a look of beseeching earnestness that the Mother of Mercy surely must have heard their prayers: “Holy Mary, pray for us now and at the hour of our death. Amen.”“

““In a subsequent letter (25th July) Fr. Doyle refers to some of the talks which he gave to his men during these days. So the passage may be inserted here. “Before the last big battle,” he writes, “ I gave the men a few talks about Heaven, where I hope many of them are now. I have the satisfaction of knowing that what I said helped the poor fellows a good deal, and made them face the coming dangers with a stouter heart. The man of whom I told you last year, who said he “ did not care a d . . . for all the b. . . . German shells (please excuse the anguage), because he was with the priest that morning,” expressed in a forcible manner what many another felt, ;that when all is said and done, a man’s religion is his biggest (and only true) consolation, and the source of real courage. I reminded them of the saying of the Blessed Cure d”Ars: “ When we get to Heaven and see all the happiness which is to be ours for ever, we shall wonder why we wanted to remain even one day on earth.” God hides these things from our eyes, for if we saw now the things God has prepared for those that love Him,” life on earth would be absolutely unlivable, and so, I said, the man who falls in the charge is not the loser but immensely the gainer, is not the unlucky one but the fortunate and blessed. You should have seen how the poor chaps drank in every word, for rough and ignorant as they are, they are full of Faith; though I fear their conception of an ideal Heaven, for some at least, would be a place of unlimited drinks and no closing time. There was a broad smile when I told them so!”

“On Wednesday night, June 6th,” continues Fr. Doyle, “we moved off, so as to be in position for the attack at 3.10 A.M. on Thursday morning, the Feast of Corpus Christi; I got to the little temporary chapel at the rear of our trenches soon after twelve, and tried to get a few moments” sleep before beginning Mass at one, a hopeless task, you may imagine, as the guns had gone raging mad. I could not help thinking would this be my last Mass, though I really never had any doubt the good God would continue to protect me in the future as He had done in the past, and I was quite content to leave myself in His hands, since He knows what is best for us all.”

It was 11.50 when Fr. Browne and Fr. Doyle reached the little sandbag chapel which they used when holding the line. There they lay down for an hour’s rest on two stretchers borrowed from the huge pile waiting near by for the morrow’s bloody work. Leaving their servant lying fast asleep through sheer exhaustion, the two chaplains got up at 1 A.M. and prepared the altar. Fr. Doyle said Mass first and was served by Fr. Browne, who, not having yet made his Last Vows, renewed his Vows at the Mass, as he always did at home on Corpus Christi. It was surely a weird and solemn Renovation. While Fr. Browne unvested after his own Mass and packed up the things, Fr. Doyle and his servant (now awake) prepared breakfast. At 2.30 the two chaplains put on their battle kit, and made for their respective aid posts. Up near the front line, along the hedgerows, the battalions of the 48th Brigade were massed in support position. Their task was not to attack, but to follow up and consolidate and, should need arise, to help the leading brigades. “ As I walked up to my post at the advanced dressing-station,” says Fr. Doyle, “ I prayed for that peace of a perfect trust which seems to be so pleasing to our Lord.” And he repeated to himself the verses of a little leaflet which a friend had sent to him when he first became chaplain

Oh! for the peace of a perfect trust,

My loving God, in Thee;

Unwavering faith that never doubts,

Thou choosest best for me.

In this spirit, in which he had so often schooled himself during his years of spiritual struggle, he waited for the coming crash of battle.

“It wanted half an hour,” he continues, “to zero time-the phrase used for the moment of attack. The guns had ceased firing, to give their crews a breathing space before the storm of battle broke; for a moment at least there was peace on earth and a calm which was almost more trying than the previous roar to us, who knew what was coming. A prisoner told us that the enemy knew we were about to attack, but did not expect it for another couple of days. I pictured to myself our men, row upon row, waiting in the darkness for the word to charge, and on the other side the Germans in their trenches and dug-outs, little thinking that seventeen huge mines were laid under their feet, needing only a spark to blow them into eternity. The tension of waiting was terrific, the strain almost unbearable. One felt inclined to scream out and send them warning. But all I could do was to stand on top of the trench and give them Absolution, trusting to God’s mercy to speed it so far.

“ Even now I can scarcely think of the scene which followed without trembling with horror. Punctually to the second at 3.10 A.M. there was a deep mined roar; the ground in front of where I stood rose up, as if some giant had wakened from his sleep and was bursting his way through the earth’s crust, and then I saw seventeen huge columns of smoke and flames shoot hundreds of feet into the air, while masses of clay and stones, tons in weight, were hurled about like pebbles. I never before realised what an earthquake was like, for not only did the ground quiver and shake, but actually rocked backwards and forwards, so that I kept on my feet with difficulty.

“Before the debris of the mines had begun to fall to earth, the “wild Irish’were over the top of the trenches and on the enemy, though it seemed certain they must be killed to a man by the falling avalanche of clay. Even a stolid English Colonel standing near was moved to enthusiasm : “My God!” he said, “what soldiers! They fear neither man nor devil!” Why should they? They had made their peace with God. He had given them His own Sacred Body to eat that morning, and they were going out now to face death, as only Irish Catholic lads can do, confident of victory and cheered by the thought that the reward of Heaven was theirs. Nothing could stop such a rush, and so fast was the advance that the leading files actually ran into the barrage of our own guns, and had to retire.

“Meanwhile hell itself seemed to have been let loose. With the roar of the mines came the deafening crash of our guns, hundreds of them. This much I can say: never before, even in this war, have so many batteries, especially of heavy pieces, been concentrated on one objective, and how the Germans were able to put up the resistance they did was a marvel to everybody, for our shells fell like hailstones. In a few moments, they took up the challenge, and soon things on our side became warm and lively.

“In a short time the wounded began to come in, and a number of German prisoners, many of them wounded also. I must confess my heart goes out to these unfortunate soldiers, whose sufferings have been terrific. I can’t share the general sentiment that “they deserve what they get and one better.” For after all are they not children of the same loving Saviour who said: “Whatever you do to one of these My least ones you do it to Me.” I try to show them any little kindness I can, getting them a drink, taking off the boots from smashed and bleeding feet, or helping to dress their wounds, and more than once I have seen the eyes of these rough men fill with tears as I bent over them, or felt my hand squeezed in gratitude.

“ My men did not go over in the first wave; they were held in reserve to move up as soon as the first objective was taken, hold the position and resist any counter-attack. Most of them were waiting behind a thick sandbag wall not far from the advanced dressing-station where I was, which enabled me to keep an eye upon them.

“The shells were coming over thick and fast now, and at last, what I expected and feared, happened. A big “crump” hit the wall fair and square, blew three men into the field 50 yards away, and buried others who were in a small dugout. For a moment I hesitated, for the horrible sight fairly knocked the “starch” out of me and a couple more “crumps” did not help to restore my courage.

“I climbed over the trench and ran across the open, as abject a coward as ever walked on two legs, till I reached the three dying men, and then the “perfect trust” came back to me and I felt no fear. A few seconds sufficed to absolve and anoint my poor boys, and I jumped to my feet, only to go down on my face faster than I got up, as an express train from Berlin roared by.

“The five buried men were calling for help, but the others standing around seemed paralysed with fear, all save one sergeant whose language was worthy of the occasion, and rose to a noble height of sublimity. He was working like a Trojan, tearing the sand-bags aside, and welcomed my help with a mingled blessing and curse. The others joined in with pick and shovel, digging and pulling, till the sweat streamed from our faces, and the blood from our hands, but we got three of the buried men out alive; the other two had been killed by the explosion.

“Once again I had evidence of the immense confidence our men have in the priest. It was quite evident they were rapidly becoming demoralised, as the best of troops will who have to remain inactive under heavy shell-fire. Little groups were running from place to place for greater shelter, and the officers seemed to have lost control. I walked along the line of men, crouching behind the sand-bag wall, and was amused to see the ripple of smiles light up the terrified lads” faces (so many are mere boys) as I went by. By the time I got back again the men were laughing and chatting as if all danger was miles away, for quite unintentionally, I had given them courage by walking along without my gas mask or steel helmet, both of which I had forgotten in my hurry.

“When the regiment moved forward, the Doctor and I went with it. By this time the “impregnable” ridge was in our hands and the enemy retreating down the far side. I spent the rest of that memorable day wandering over the battle-field looking for the wounded, and had the happiness of helping many a poor chap.

“ As I knew there was no chance of saying Mass next morning, I had taken the precaution of bringing several Consecrated Particles with me, so that I should not be deprived of Holy Communion. It was the Feast of Corpus Christi, and I thought of the many processions of the Blessed Sacrament which were being held at that moment all over the world. Surely there never was a stranger one than mine that day, as I carried the God of Consolation in my unworthy arms over the blood-stained battle-field. There was no music to welcome His coming save the scream of a passing shell; the flowers that strewed His path were the broken, bleeding bodies of those for whom He had once died; and the only Altar of Repose He could find was the heart of one who was working for Him alone, striving in a feeble way to make Him some return for all His love and goodness.

“ I shall make no attempt to describe the battle-field. Thank God, our casualties were extraordinarily light, but there was not a yard of ground on which a shell had not pitched, which made getting about very laborious, sliding down one crater and climbing up the next, and also increased the difficulty of finding the wounded.

“ Providence certainly directed my steps on two occasions at least. I came across one young soldier horribly mutilated, all his intestines hanging out, but quite conscious and able to speak to me. He lived long enough to receive the Last Sacraments, and died in peace. Later on in the evening I was going in a certain direction when something made me turn back, when I saw in the distance a man being carried on a stretcher. He belonged to the artillery, and had no chance of seeing a priest for a long time, but he must have been a good lad, for Mary did not forget him “at the hour of his death.”

“The things I remember best of that day of twenty-four hours” work are: the sweltering heat, a devouring thirst which comes from the excitement of battle, physical weakness from want of food, and a weariness and foot-soreness which I trust will pay a little at least of St. Peter’s heavy score against me.

“Friday was a repetition of the previous day. I made a glorious breakfast, in a shell-hole, of a piece of chocolate, a couple of biscuits picked up on the ground-I wiped the clay off first as the Belgians may want it again-and washed the lot down with a draught of water from my bottle. I am certain you did not enjoy your bacon and eggs one half as much as I did my “hard tack” and chocolate. Later on I came in for a cup of tea-without milk, which really spoils good tea-so I did not do so badly.

“Fighting was over for the moment, as we were hard at work bringing up the guns to support the infantry in their advanced positions. Nothing of very great interest happened during the next two days, and I had only one fairly narrow escape from an eight-inch shell, which got so terrified at the sight of a Jesuit in khaki that it exploded. I threw my “tin hat,” as the Tommies call the helmet, on the ground and tried to crawl under it, evidently without complete success, judging by the clods of earth which came whacking on my back till I was pretty well black and blue. Brother Fritz certainly hammered some breath out of me, but failed miserably to damp my good spirits, or diminish my trust in the Sacred Heart.”

Early on Sunday morning the exhausted battalions were relieved. After the battle the men marched back by easy stages to the rear for a few weeks of rest and training-the only rest which was allowed to the 18th Division in the two years and three months that it was in the field.

“After the battle,” writes Fr. Doyle on 26thJune, “we marched back to the rear by easy stages. We spent the rest of the week billeted in farm-houses, the weather being ideal if on the hot side, and the peaceful country seeming a paradise after the din of battle. It was only when the strain was taken off that we realised how utterly tired we were; but rest had come at last, and we took it night and day. Then, just as we were settling down to enjoy a long wellearned repose, urgent orders reached us to return at once to the trenches. I shall not easily forget that day’s march (Sunday, 17th June.) The heat was terrific and the road long and hilly. The men stuck it magnificently, in fact too much so, for several of them fainted from exhaustion and all were fairly done up by the time camp was reached. That night at 1 A.M. word was received that the order was cancelled, and that we were to return to the place we had come from. Someone had blundered; or perhaps it had dawned upon the minds of those in power that the endurance of even Irish soldiers has a limit.

“The next few days we spent marching back further and further to the rear. We are now settled down in quite a nice part of France, very comfortable in fine farm-houses; best of all, here we stay for some weeks at least, resting and training. It is delightfully peaceful and quiet; and if the weather did give us a good drenching on the march, it is now on its best behaviour-plenty of sun with a cool breeze.”

“My present habitation,” he writes a month later, “ is a tiny room in an equally tiny cottage, the only big thing in it (barring the fleas) being the bed which occupies nine-tenths of the space. A beautiful dung-heap under my window sends me alternately odoriferous whiffs and savage mosquitoes. But one can cheerfully put up with these small inconveniences instead of German shot and shell.

“Our week of special training contained nothing of “interest, except that my two battalions were again very far apart and much scattered. However, I did not object to this, as riding about the country in this beautiful “weather was quite enjoyable, and I could arrange my own hours as I pleased.

“An amusing incident took place the first morning we arrived. One old French lady was horrified, on looking out her window, to see a column of soldiers in extended order advancing calmly through her field of oats. Arming herself with a stout stick, she rushed out and started to wallop the leading files, declaring that they might trample on her but not on her precious corn. Hearing a noise behind her, madame turned round, only to see six huge tanks walking up the hill, literally making hay of her cornfield. With a scream of rage the old lady made for the tanks, waving her stick and defying them to come further at their peril ; and it was only when two of them made for her (in fun) that she realised the battle was a one-sided affair and retreated to her fort. The English Government had warned the people that this ground would be needed for manoeuvres, had given them full compensation, and told them they would sow their crops at their own risk; however, like true French people, they wanted to get the money and the corn as well.”

Just at this time everyone was talking of unknown things being planned for a Hush Army somewhere in the dunes, and there was great excitement. One day Fr. Doyle chanced upon a fresh unsoiled copy of the Daily Mail for a Friday in October, 1914, describing the German capture of Roulers. A glance at the scare headings on its front page suggested a hoax on the mess of the 2nd Dublins. Next day, which was a Friday (probably 20th July) he managed to get into the mess before the others. He substituted the old copy and abstracted the new one which he proceeded to read while waiting the turn of events. The first to come in was Major Smithwick who, seeing the heading, called out

“They’ve begun the big advance. Roulers is captured.” At once there was great excitement, and all crowded round to get a peep at the stirring news. But after some moments there were puzzled exclamations. “Why, it’s the Germans who have taken Roulers. That’s not Friday’s paper; yes, it is.” Then the fraud was ascertained, and its author was discovered behind the authentic paper. That was Fr. Doyle’s last practical joke.

During this interval Fr. Doyle preached his last sermon too. The new Bishop of Arras, Boulogne and St. Omer, Mgr. Julien, was to make his formal entry into St. Omer on Saturday, 14th July, and to be present next day at the conclusion of the Novena to our Lady of Miracles. Through the instrumentality of Fr. Browne, with the ready compliance of General Hickie, it was arranged that there should be a church parade in honour of the Bishop on Sunday, 15th. About 2,500 men came down. Fr. Browne said Mass and Fr. Doyle preached. The ceremony, which was most impressive and successful, has fortunately been described in a letter of Fr. Browne’s written on 22nd July from St. Martin au Laert

“ I arrived at the Cathedral about 11 o‘clock (says “r. Browne), and was in despair to find that the Pontifical High Mass was not yet finished. Our people are so punctual, and the French so regardless of time-tables, that I was sure there would be confusion and delay when our 2,000 Catholics would begin to arrive. But it was not to be. Quietly and wonderfully quickly the Mass ended, and the people went out to watch the Bishop go back in procession to his house close by. I was relieved to see that neither he nor any of the priests unvested. Then Fr. Doyle and I had to try to clear away the hundred or so people who came wandering in for the last Mass-which for the day was to be ours; “Donnez place, s‘il vous plait, aux soldats qui wont arriver. Make room, please, for the soldiers who are coming,” I went round saying to everyone. They moved from the great aisle and got into the side-chapels, leaving the transepts and aisles free. Many refused to do this, when with pious exaggeration I said, “Presque 3,000 soldats irlandais wont arriver tout a I”heure-About 3,000 Irish soldiers are just coming.” And lo! they were coming. Through all the various doors they came, the 9th Dubs. marching in by the great western door, the 8th Dubs. through the beautiful southern door through which St. Louis was the first to pass just 700 years ago, the 2nd Dubs. coming into the northern aisle and making their way up to the northern transept. Rank after rank the men poured in until the vast nave was one solid mass of khaki, with the red caps of General Hickie and his staff and the Brigadiers in front. Then up the long nave at a quick clanking march came the Guard of Honour. Every button of its men, every badge, shone and shone again ; their belts were scrubbed till not even the strictest inspection could reveal the slightest stain, and their fixed bayonets only wanted the sun to show how they could flash. Up they came, and with magnificent precision took their places on either side of the altar. I was just leaving the sacristy to begin Mass when I saw the Bishop’s procession arriving. He had promised to come only after the sermon, but here he was at the beginning of the ceremony, making everything complete. Of course, I saw nothing, being engaged in saying Mass, but those who did, said it was a wonderful sight. The beautiful altar, standing at the crossing of the transepts and backed by the long arches of the apse and choir, was for the feast surrounded by a lofty throne bearing the statue of our Lady of Miracles. The sides were banked up high with palms; then the Guard of Honour standing rigidly in two lines on either side; lastly the Bishop in his beautiful purple robes on his throne. From the pulpit Fr. Doyle directed the singing of the hymns, and then, after the Gospel, he preached. I knew he could preach, but I had hardly expected that anyone could speak as he spoke then. First of all he referred to the Bishop’s coming, and very, very tactfully, spoke of the terrible circumstances of the time. Next he went on to speak of our Lady and the Shrine to which we had come. Gradually the story was unfolded; he spoke wonderfully of the coming of the Old Irish Brigade in their wanderings over the Low Countries. It was here that he touched daringly, but ever so cleverly, on Ireland’s part in the war. Fighting for Ireland and not fighting for Ireland, or rather fighting for Ireland through another. Then he passed on to Daniel O”Connell’s time as a schoolboy at St. Omer and his visit to the Shrine. It certainly was very eloquent. Everyone spoke most highly of it afterwards, the men particularly, they were delighted.

“After the sermon Mass went on. At the Sanctus I heard the subdued order, “Guard of Honour, “shun! “ There was a click as rifles and feet came to position together. Then the Bishop came from his throne to kneel before the Altar, twelve little boys in scarlet soutanes, with scarlet sashes over their lace surplices, appeared with lighted torches and knelt behind his Lordship At the second bell came the command, “Guard of Honour, slope rifles!” And then as I bent over the Host I heard “Present arms!” There was the quick click, click, click, and silence, till, as I genuflected, fromthe organ gallery rang out the loud clear notes of the buglers sounding the General’s Salute.”

At the end of the Mass the Bishop in a neat little speech thanked the men for the great honour they had paid him. He was especially struck, he said, by the fact that most of them had marched a long way (some nearly ten kilometres) to attend, and he asked those of his flock who were present to learn a lesson from the grand spirit and deep faith of the Irish soldiers. “ With all my heart,” said the Bishop, “I am going to give my blessing to you, officers and men of the British Army, children of our sister-nation, CatholicIreland . .” May God, by a just compensation for sacrifices accepted in common, bring to an end the interior conflicts which rend the nations. And if there still remain legitimate aspirations of the Irish people to be satisfied, I bless your hopes and askof God their realisation.”

The ceremony concluded by a march past, with bands playing in front of the Episcopal Palace. The Bishop stood on the steps of his house, beaming as he replied to the “eyes right” of each company as it passed him. “ The whole thing,” remarks Fr. Doyle, “ made a great impression. People could not help contrasting in this respect the respect and honour shown by the British Army with the narrowminded persecution of the French Government.”

This last sermon of Fr. Doyle will serve as a final proof-if such be needed-that the man, whose inner life has been portrayed in previous chapters, was no awkward recluse or unpractical pietist. He was full of lovable human qualities; especially conspicuous was his unselfish thoughtfulness which always seemed so natural, so intertwined with playful spontaneity, that one came to take it for granted. He had a wonderful influence over others, and knew how to win the human heart because he had learnt the Master’s secret of drawing all to himself. He could, as we have just seen, preach persuasively when occasion demanded; but his real sermon was his own life. And from this pulpit he spoke alike to Protestants and Catholics.

“A few days before Fr. Willie’s death,” records Fr. Browne, S.J., “ the Adjutant of the 9th Dublin Fusiliers, a Protestant, said to me: “What is it makes Fr. Doyle so different to the rest of your priests? Your R.C. Padres are streets above our fellows, but Fr. Doyle is as far above the rest of you as you are above them.” On another occasion the Brigadier, General Ramsay, remarked to me what an extraordinary man Fr. Doyle was: “He seems to belong to another world!””

“For fifteen months,” writes Dr. C. Buchanan (9thSept., 1917), “ Fr. Doyle and I worked together out here, generally sharing the same dug-outs and billets, so we became fast friends, I acting as medical officer to his first battalion. Often I envied him his coolness and courage in the face of danger: for this alone his men would have loved him, but he had other sterling qualities, which we all recognised only too well. He was beloved and respected, not only by those of his own Faith, but equally by Protestants, to which denomination I belong. To illustrate this-Poor Captain Eaton, before going into action last September, asked Fr. Doyle to do what was needful for him if anything happened to him, as he should feel happier if he had a friend to bury him.

Captain Eaton was one of many whom Fr. Doyle and I placed in their last resting-place with a few simple prayers. For his broad-mindedness we loved him. He seldom, if ever, preached, but he set us a shining example of a Christian life.”

A similar testimony is eloquently conveyed in a little incident recorded by Fr. Doyle in a letter which he wrote to his father on 25th July, 1917. He wrote it seated on a comfortable roadside bank under a leafy hedge, listening, during this intermezzo from the dreadful drama of war, to the nightingales singing in the Bois du Rossignol near by. “While I was writing,” he says, “one of my men, belonging to the Irish Rifles, of which I have charge also, passed by. We chatted for a few minutes and then he went on, but came back shortly with a steaming bowl of coffee which he had bought for me. “ I am not one of your flock, Father,” he said, “but we have all a great liking for you.” And then he added: “If all the officers treated us as you do, our lives would be different.” I was greatly touched by the poor lad’s thoughtfulness, and impressed by what he said. A a kind word often goes further than one thinks, and one loses nothing by remembering that even soldiers are human beings and have feelings like anyone else.”

There lies the secret of Fr. Doyle’s popularity-his Christ-like democracy. With him there was neither Jew nor Gentile, neither officer nor private; all were men, human beings, souls for whom Christ died. Every man was equally precious to him; beneath every mud-begrimed unkempt figure he discerned a human personality. He would risk ten lives, if he had them, to bring help and comfort to a dying soldier no matter who he was. Once he rushed up to a wounded Ulsterman and knelt beside him. “Ah, Father,” said the man, “I don’t belong to your Church.” “ No,” replied Fr. Doyle, “but you belong to my God.” To Fr. Doyle all were brothers to be ministered unto.

THE LAST CHAPTER

THE OLD ARMCHAIR

“WE shall have desperate fighting soon,” wrote Fr. Doyle in a private letter dated 25thJuly, “ but I have not the least fear; on the contrary, a great joy in the thought that I shall be able to make a real offering of my poor life to God, even if He does not think that poor life worth taking.” To avoid causing anxiety he said nothing to his father about the impending battle until the first phase was over. On 12th and 14th August he sent home in his last two letters a long budget or diary which describes the events which occurred up to these dates.

30TH JULY

For the past week we have been moving steadily up to the Front once more to face the hardships and horrors of another big push, which report says is to be the biggest effort since the War began. The blood-stained Ypres battle-field is to be the centre of the fight, with our left-wing running down to the Belgian coast from which it is hoped to drive the enemy and, perhaps, force him by a turning movement to fall back very far.

“The preparations are on a colossal scale, the mass of men and guns enormous. “Success is certain,” our Generals tell us, but I cannot help wondering what are the plans of the Great Leader, and what the result will be when He has issued His orders. This much is certain: the fight will be a desperate one, for our foe is not only brave, but clever and cunning, as we have learned to our cost.

Mass in the open this morning under a drizzling rain was a trying if edifying experience. Colonel, officers and men knelt on the wet grass with the water trickling off them, while a happy if somewhat damp chaplain moved from rank to rank giving every man Holy Communion. Poor fellows, with all their faults God must love them dearly for their simple faith and love of their religion, and for the confident way in which they turn to Him for help in the hour of trial.

“One of my converts, received into the Church last night, made his First Holy Communion this morning under circumstances he will not easily forget. I see in the paper that 13,000 soldiers and officers have become Catholics since the War began, but I should say this number is much below the mark. Ireland’s missionaries, the light-hearted lads who shoulder a rifle and swing along the muddy roads have taught many a man more religion by their silent example than he ever dreamed of before.

“Many a time one’s heart grows sick to think how few will ever see home and country again, for their pluck and daring have marked them down for the positions which only the Celtic dash can take: a post of honour, no doubt, but it means slaughter as well.

“ We moved of f at 10 P.M., a welcome hour in one way, as it means marching in the cool of the night instead of sweating under a blazing sun. Still, when one has put in a long day of hard work, and legs and body are pretty well tired out already, the prospect of a stiffmarch is not too pleasant.”

31ST JULY

“It was 1.30 A.M. when our first halting-place was reached, and as we march again at three, little time was wasted getting to sleep. It was the morning of July 31st, the Feast of St. Ignatius, a day dear to every Jesuit, but doubly so to the soldier-sons of the soldier-saint. Was it to be Mass or sleep? Nature said sleep, but grace won the day, and while the weary soldiers slumbered, the Adorable Sacrifice was offered for them, that God would bless them in the coming fight, and if it were His Holy Will, bring them safely through it. Mass and thanksgiving over, a few precious moments of rest on the floor of the hut, and we have fallen into line once more.

“As we do, the dark clouds are lit up with red and golden flashes of light, the earth quivers with the simultaneous crash of thousands of guns, and in imagination we can picture the miles of our trenches springing to life as the living stream of men pours over the top-the Third Battle of Ypres has begun.

“Men’s hearts beat faster, and nerves seem to stretch and vibrate like harp-strings as we march steadily on, ever nearer and nearer towards the raging fight, on past battery after battery of huge guns and howitzers belching forth shells which ten men could scarcely lift, on past the growing streams of motor ambulances, each with its sad burden of broken bodies, the first drops of that torrent of wounded which will pour along the road. I fancy not a few were wondering how long would it be till they were carried past in the same way, or was this the last march they would ever make till the final Roll Call on the Great Review Day?

“We were to be held in reserve for the opening stages of the battle, so we lay all day (the 31st) in the open fields, ready to march at a moment’s notice should things go badly at the Front. Bit by bit news of the fight came trickling in. The Jocks (15th Scottish Division) in front of us had taken the first and second objective with little opposition, and were pushing on to their final goal. All was going well. And the steady stream of prisoners showed that for once Dame Rumour was not playing false. Our spirits rose rapidly in spite of the falling rain, for word reached us that we were to return to the camp for the night as our services would not be required. Then the sun of good news began to set, and ugly rumours to float about.

“The wily German was at his tricks again. Knowing that all his artillery positions were noted by our airmen and “registered” for shelling, he had withdrawn his guns to new positions, leaving one behind to keep up a rapid fire and so deceive our gunners. Whether it was the “impetuous Celtic dash that won the ground, or part of German strategy, the enemy centre gave way while the wings held firm. This trick has been played so often and so successfully, one would imagine we should not have been caught napping again, but the temptation for victorious troops to rush into an opening is almost too strong to be resisted, and probably the real state of affairs on the wings was not known. The Scotties reached their objective, only to find they were the centre of a murderous fire from three sides, and having beaten off repeated counterattacks of the “ demoralized enemy,” were obliged to retire some distance. So far the Germans had not done too badly.

“It was nearly eight o‘clock, and our dinner was simmering in the pot with a tempting odour, when the fatal telegram came: “ The battalion will move forward in support at once.” I was quite prepared for this little change of plans, having experienced such surprises before, and had taken the precaution of laying in a solid lunch early in the day. I did not hear a single growl from anyone, though it meant we had to set out for another march hungry and dinnerless, with the prospect of passinga second night without sleep. When I give my next nuns” retreat, I shall try the experiment of a few supperless and bedless nights on them, just to see what they would say, and compare notes with the soldiers. The only disadvantage would be that I should be inundated with applications to give similar retreats in other convents, everyone being so delighted with the experiment, especially the good Mother Bursar, who would simply coin money!

“ On the road once more in strict fighting kit, the clothes we stood in, a rain-coat, and a stout heart. A miserable night with a cold wind driving the drizzling rain into our faces and the ground underfoot being rapidly churned into a quagmire of slush and mud. I hope the Recording Angel will not be afraid of the weather, and will not get as tired of counting the steps as I did:

“Ten thousand and one, ten thousand and two,” a bit monotonous at best.

“The road was a sight never to be forgotten. On one side marched our column in close formation, on the other galloped by an endless line of ammunition wagons, extra guns hurrying up to the Front, and motor lorries packed with stores of all kinds, while between the two flowed back the stream of empties, and ambulance after ambulance filled with wounded and dying.

“In silence, save for the never-ceasing roar of the guns and the rumble of cart-wheels, we marched on through the city of the dead, Ypres, not a little anxious, for a shower of shells might come at any minute. Ruin and desolation, desolation and ruin, is the only description I can give of a spot once the pride and glory of Belgium. The hand of war has fallen heavy on the city of Ypres; scarce a stone remains of the glorious Cathedral and equally famous Cloth Hall; the churches, a dozen of them, are piles of rubbish, gone are the convents, the hospitals and public buildings, and though many of the inhabitants are still there, their bodies lie buried in the ruins of their homes, and the smell of rotting corpses poisons the air. I have seen strange sights in the last two years, but this was the worst of all. Out again by the opposite gate of this stricken spot, which people say was not undeserving of God’s chastisement, across the moat and along the road pitted all over with half-filled-in shell-holes. Broken carts and dead horses, with human bodies too, if one looked, lie on all sides, but one is too weary to think of anything except how many more miles must be covered.

“A welcome halt at last, with, perhaps, an hour or more delay. The men were already stretched by the side of the road, and I was not slow to follow their example. I often used to wonder how anyone could sleep lying in mud or water, but at that moment the place for sleep, as far as I was concerned, did not matter two straws, a thorn-bush, the bed of a stream, anywhere would do to satisfy the longing for even a few moments” slumber after nearly two days and nights of marching without sleep. I picked out a soft spot on the ruins of a home, lay down with a sigh of relief, and then, for all I cared, all the King’s guns and the Kaiser’s combined might roar till they were hoarse, and all the rain in the heavens might fall, as it was falling then, I was too tired and happy to bother.

“I was chuckling over the disappearance of the officer in front of me into a friendly trench from which he emerged if possible a little more muddy than he was, when I felt my two legs shoot from under me, and I vanished down the sides of a shell-hole which I had not noticed. As I am not making a confession of my whole life, I shall not tell you what I said, but it was something different from the exclamation of the pious old gentleman who used to missed the golf ball.

“The Headquarters Staff found shelter in an old mine-shaft, dark, foul-smelling, and dripping water which promised soon to flood us out. Still it was some protection from the downpour outside, and I slept like a top for some hours in a dry corner sitting on a coil of wire.”

1ST AUGUST

“Morning brought a leaden sky, more rain, and no breakfast! Our cook with the rations had got lost during the night, so there was nothing for it but to tighten one’s belt and bless the man (backwards) who invented eating. But He who feeds the birds of the air did not mutter “Tut, tut,” every time he forgets us, and by midday we were sitting before a steaming tin of tea, bully beef and biscuits, a banquet fit to set before an emperor after nearly twentyfour hours” fast. Not for a moment during the whole of the day did the merciless rain cease. The men, soaked to the skin and beyond it, were standing up to their knees in a river of mud and water, and like ourselves were unable to get any hot food till the afternoon. Our only consolation was that the trenches were not shelled and we had no casualties. Someone must have had compassion on our plight, for when night fell a new Brigade came in to relieve us, much to our surprise and joy. Back to the camp we had left the previous night, one of the hardest marches I ever put in, but cheered at the thought of a rest. Once again we got through Ypres without a shell, though they fell before and after our passing; good luck was on our side for once.”

Here they remained for a couple of days, and it was during this interval that Fr. Doyle wrote the above little chronicle. He resumed it on the morning of Sunday, 12th August. “ Dearest Father,” he began, “ when I finished writing the last line I could not help asking myself should I ever continue this little narrative of my adventures and experiences, for we were under marching-orders to make our way that night to the Front Line, a series of shell-holes in the ground won from the enemy. To hold this we knew would be no easy task, but I little thought of what lay before me, of the thousand and one dangers I was to pass through unscathed, or of the hardship and suffering which were to be crowded into the next few days.

“It is Sunday morning, August 12th. We have just got back to camp after (for me at least) six days and seven continuous nights on the battlefield. There was no chance last night of a moment’s rest, and you may imagine there was little sleep the previous nights either, sitting on a box with one’s feet in 12 inches of water.

For the past forty-eight hours we have lived, eaten and slept in a flooded dug-out, which you left at the peril of your life, so you may fancy what relief it was to change one’s sodden muddy clothes.

“Tired as I am, I cannot rest till I try to give you some account of what has happened, for I know you must be on the lookout for news of your boy, and also because my heart is bursting to tell you of God’s love and protection, never so manifest as during this week.

“He has shielded me from almost countless dangers with more than the tender care of an earthly mother-what I have to say sounds in parts almost like a fairytale-and if He has tried my endurance, once at least almost to breakingpoint, it was only to fill me with joy at the thought that I was deemed worthy to suffer (a little) for Him.”

“I shall give you as simply as I can the principal events of these exciting days as I jotted them down in my notebook.”

Before resuming the diary it is necessary to remark that after the death of Fr. Knapp (31st July), Fr. Browne was appointed chaplain to the 2nd Irish Guards. Hence from 2nd August till his death Fr. Doyle had the four battalions to look after, as no other priest had come to the 48thBrigade. A certain priest had indeed been appointed as Fr. Browne’s successor by Fr. Rawlinson. But by some error the order was brought to a namesake, who, on arriving at Poperinghe and discovering the mistake, absolutely refused to have anything to do with the battle. This will explain why Fr. Doyle had such hard work and why he would not allow himself any rest or relief. On 15th August Fr. Browne wrote to his brother (Rev. W. F. Browne, C.C.)

“Fr. Doyle is a marvel. You may talk of heroes and saints, they are hardly in it! I went back the other day to see the old Dubs., as I heard they were having, we’ll say, a taste of the War.

“No-one has been yet appointed to my place, and Fr. Doyle has done double work. So unpleasant were the conditions that the men had to be relieved frequently. Fr. Doyle had no one to relieve him, and so he stuck to the mud and the shells, the gas and the terror. Day after day he stuck it out.

“I met the Adjutant of one of my two battalions, who previously had only known Fr. Doyle by sight. His first greeting to me was-”Little Fr. Doyle”-they all call him that, more in affection than anything else-”deserves the V.C. more than any man that ever wore it. We cannot get him away from the line while the men are there, he is with his own and he is with us. The men couldn’t stick it half so well if he weren’t there. If we give him an orderly, he sends the man back, he wears no tin hat, and he is always so cheery.” Another officer, also a Protestant, said: “Fr. Doyle never rests. Night and day he is with us. He finds a dying or dead man, does all, comes back smiling, makes a little cross, and goes out to bury him, and then begins all over again.”

“I needn’t say that through all this the conditions of ground and air and discomfort surpass anything that I ever dreamt of in the worst days of the Somme.”

We can now give the last fragments of Fr. Doyle’s diary.

5TH AUGUST

“All day I have been busy hearing the men’s confessions, and giving batch after batch of Holy Communion. A consolation surely to see them crowding to the Sacraments, but a sad one too, because I know for many of them it is the last Absolution they will ever receive, and the next time they meet our Blessed Lord will be when they see Him face to face in Heaven.”

And here-he was writing a week later-Fr. Doyle interrupts his narrative by a spontaneous outburst of grief for the loss of those whom he loved as “ his own children.” “My poor brave boys!” he exclaims. “They are lying now out on the battle-field; some in a little grave dug and blessed by their chaplain, who loves them all as if they were his own children; others stiff and stark with staring eyes, hidden in a shell-hole where they had crept to die; while perhaps in some far-off thatched cabin an anxious mother sits listening for the well-known step and voice which will never gladden her ear again. Do you wonder in spite of the joy that fills my heart that many a time the tears gather in my eyes, as I think of those who are gone?

“As the men stand lined up on Parade, I go from company to company giving a General Absolution which I know is a big comfort to them, and then I shoulder my pack and make for the train which this time is to carry us part of our journey. “Top end for Blighty, boys, bottom end Berlin,” I tell them as they clamber in, for they like a cheery word. “If you’re for Jerryland, Father, we’re with you too,” shouts one big giant, which is greeted with a roar of approval, and Berlin wins the day hands down.

“Though we are in fighting-kit, there is no small load to carry: a haversack containing little necessary things, and three days” rations, which consist of tinned corned beef, hard biscuits, tea and sugar, with usually some solidified methylated spirit for boiling water when a fire cannot be lighted; two full water-bottles; a couple of gas helmets, the new one weighing nine pounds, but guaranteed to keep out the smell of the Old Boy himself; then a waterproof trench-coat; and in addition my Mass-kit strapped on my back, on the off-chance that some days at least I may be able to offer the Holy Sacrifice on the spot where so many men have fallen. My orderly should carry this, but I prefer to leave him behind when we go into action, to which he does not object. On a roasting hot day, tramping along a dusty road or scrambling up and down shell-holes, the extra weight tells. But then I think of my Angel Guardian, counting my steps, and the pack grows light and easy!

“As I marched through Ypres at the head of the column, an officer ran across the road and stopped me

“Are you a Catholic priest?” he asked, “I should like to go to Confession.” There and then, by the side of the road while the men marched by, he made his peace with God, and went his way. It was a trivial incident, but it brought home vividly to me what a priest was, and the wondrous power given him by God. All the time we were pushing on steadily towards our goal across the battle-field of the previous week. Five days” almost continuous rain had made the torn ground worse than any ploughed field, but none seemed to care as so far not a shot had fallen near.

“We were congratulating ourselves on our good luck, when suddenly the storm burst. Away along the front trenches we saw the S0S signal shoot into the air, two red and two green rockets, telling the artillery behind of an attack and calling for support. There was little need to send any signal as the enemy’s guns had opened fire with a crash, and in a moment pandemonium, in fact, fifty of them were set loose. I can but describe the din by asking you to start together fifty first-class thunder-storms, though even then the swish and scream, the deafening crash of the shells, would be wanting.

“On we hurried in the hope of reaching cover which was close at hand, when right before us the enemy started to put down a heavy barrage, literally a curtain of shells, to prevent reinforcements coming up. There was no getting through that alive, and, to make matters worse, the barrage was creeping nearer and nearer, only fifty yards away, while shell-fragments hummed uncomfortably close. Old shell-holes there were in abundance, but every one of them was brimful of water, and one would only float on top. Here was a fix! Yet somehow I felt that though the boat seemed in a bad way, the Master was watching even while He seemed to sleep, and help would surely come. In the darkness I stumbled across a huge shell-hole crater, recently made, with no water. Into it we rolled and lay on our faces, while the tempest howled around and angry shells hissed overhead and burst on every side. For a few moments I shivered with fear, for we were now right in the middle of the barrage and the danger was very great, but my courage came back when I remembered how easily He who had raised the tempest saved His Apostles from it, and I never doubted He would do the same for us. Not a man was touched, though one had his rifle smashed to bits.

“ We reached Headquarters, a strong block-house made of concrete and iron rails, a masterpiece of German cleverness. From time to time all during the night the enemy gunners kept firing at our shelter, having the range to a nicety. Scores exploded within a few feet of it, shaking us till our bones rattled; a few went smash against the walls and roof, and one burst at the entrance, nearly blowing us over, but doing no harm, thanks to the scientific construction of the passage. I tried to get a few winks of sleep on a stool, there was no room to lie down with sixteen men in a small hut. And I came to the conclusion that so far we had not done badly, and there was every promise of an exciting time.”

6TH AUGUST

“The following morning, though the Colonel and other officers pressed me very much to remain with them on the ground that I would be more comfortable, I felt that I could do better work at the advanced dressing-station, or rather aid-post, and went and joined the doctor. It was a providential step and saved me .from being the victim of an extraordinary accident. The following night a shell again burst at the entrance to the block-house, as it had done our first night there; but this time exploded several boxes of Verey lights or rockets which had been left at the door. A mass of flame and dense smoke rushed into the dug-out, severely burning some and almost suffocating all the officers and men, fifteen in number, with poisonous fumes before they made their escape. Had I been there I should have shared the same fate, so you can imagine what I felt as I saw all my friends carried of to hospital, possibly to suffer ill effects for life, while I by the merest chance was left behind well and strong to carry on God’s work. I am afraid you will think me ungrateful, but more than once I almost regretted my escape, so great has been the strain of these past days now happily over.

“For once getting out of bed (save the mark) was an easy, in fact, delightful task, for I was stiff and sore from my night’s rest. My first task was to look round and see what were the possibilities for Mass. As all the dug-outs were occupied if not destroyed or flooded, I was delighted to discover a tiny ammunition store which I speedily converted into a chapel, building an altar with the boxes. The fact that it barely held myself did not signify, as I had no server and had to be both priest and acolyte, and in a way I was not so sorry I could not stand up, as I was able for once to offer the Holy Sacrifice on my knees.

“ It is strange that out here a desire I have long cherished should be gratified, viz., to be able to celebrate alone, taking as much time as I wished without inconveniencing anyone. I read long ago in the Acts of the Martyrs of a captive priest, chained to the floor of the Cohseum, offering up the Mass on the altar of his own bare breast, but apart from that, Mass that morning must have been a strange one in the eyes of God’s angels, and I trust not unacceptable to Him.

Returning to the dressingstation, I refreshed the inner man in preparation for a hard day’s work. You may be curious to know what an aid-post is like. Get out of your mind all ideas of a clean hospital ward, for our first-aid dressing station is any place, as near as possible to the fighting-line, which will afford a little shelters cellar, a coal-hole, sometimes even a shell-hole. Here the wounded who have been roughly bandaged on the field are brought by the stretcher-bearers to be dressed by the doctor. Our aid-post was a rough tin shed built beside a concrete dug-out which we christened the Pig-sty. You could just crawl in on hands and knees to the solitary chamber which served as a dressing-room, recreation-hall, sleeping-apartment and anything else you cared to use it for. One could not very well sit up, much less stand in our chateau, but you could stretch your legs and get a snooze if the German shells and the wounded men let you. On the floor were some wood-shavings, kept well moistened in damp weather by a steady drip from the ceiling and which gave cover to a host of curious little creatures, all most friendly and affectionate. There was room for three, but as a rule we slept six or seven officers side by side. I had the post of honour next the wall, which had the double advantage of keeping me cool and damp, and of offering a stout resistance if anyone wanted to pinch more space, not an easy task, you may well conclude.

“ I spent a good part of the day, when not occupied with the wounded, wandering round the battle-field with a spade to bury stray dead. Though there was not very much infantry fighting owing to the state of the ground, not for a moment during the week did the artillery duel cease, reaching at times a pitch of unimaginable intensity. I have been through some hot stuff at Loos, and the Somme was warm enough for most of us, but neither of them could compare to the fierceness of the German fire here. For example, we once counted fifty shells, big chaps too, whizzing over our little nest in sixty seconds, not counting those that burst close by. In fact, you became so accustomed to it all that you ceased to bother about them, unless some battery started “ strafing “your particular position, when you began to feel a keen personal interest in every newcomer. I have walked about for hours at a time getting through my work, with “crumps” of all sizes bursting in dozens on every side. More than once my heart has nearly jumped out of my mouth from sudden terror, but not once during all those days have I had what I could call a narrow escape, but always a strange confident feeling of trust and security in the all-powerful protection of our Blessed Lord. You will see before the end that my trust was not misplaced. All the same I am not foolhardy nor do I expose myself to danger unnecessarily, the coward is too strong in me for that ; but when duty calls, I know I can count on the help of One who has never failed me yet.”

7TH AUGUST

“No Mass this morning, thanks, I suppose, to the kindly attention of the evil one. I reached my chapel of the previous morning, only to find that a big 9.5-inch shell had landed on the top of it during the day; I went away, feeling very grateful I had not been inside at the time, but had to abandon all thought of Mass as no shelter could be found from the heavy rain.

“The Battalion went out today for three days” rest, but I remained behind. Fr. Browne has gone back to the Irish Guards. He is a tremendous loss, not only to myself personally, but to the whole Brigade where he did magnificent work and made a host of friends. And so I was left alone. Another chaplain was appointed, but for reasons best known to himself he did not take over his battalion and let them go into the fight alone. There was nothing for it but to remain on and do his work, and glad I was I did so, for many a man went down that night, the majority of whom I was able to anoint.

“Word reached me about midnight that a party of men had been caught by shell-fire nearly a mile away. I dashed off in the darkness, this time hugging my helmet as the enemy was firing gas shells. A moment’s pause to absolve a couple of dying men, and then I reached the group of smashed and bleeding bodies, most of them still breathing. The first thing I saw almost unnerved me; a young soldier lying on his back, his hands and face a mass of blue phosphorous flame, smoking horribly in the darkness. He was the first victim I had seen of the new gas the Germans are using, a fresh horror in this awful war. The poor lad recognised me, I anointed him on a little spot of unburnt flesh, not a little nervously, as the place was reeking with gas, gave him a drink which he begged for so eamestly, and then hastened to the others.

“Back again to the aid-post for stretchers and help to carry in the wounded, while all the time the shells are coming down like hail. Good God! how can any human thing live in this? As I hurry back I hear that two men have been hit twenty yards away. I am with them in a moment, splashing through mud and water. A quick absolution and the last rites of the Church. A flash from a gun shows me that the poor boy in my arms is my own servant, or rather one who took the place of my orderly while he was away, a wonderfully good and pious lad.

“By the time we reached the first party, all were dead, most of them with charred hands and faces. One man with a pulverized leg was still living. I saw him of to hospital, made as comfortable as could be, but I could not help thinking of his torture as the stretcher jolted over the rough ground, and up and down the shell-holes.

“Little rest that night, for the Germans simply pelted us with gas shells of every description, which, however, thanks to our new helmets, did no harm. Fritz is an expert in gas torture. He has long treated us to weeping shells, and many an unrepentant tear I have shed. Now he has some stuff which tickles your throat and nose like red pepper, makes you sneeze like a soda-water bottle; a gas which burns your hands and face, a beast of a thing which gives you all the delights of a rough sea voyage; hence you can have quite a lively time if you wish to.”

8TH AUGUST

“There is little to record during the next couple of days except the discovery of a new cathedral and the happiness of daily Mass. This time I was not quite so well off as I could not kneel upright, and my feet were in the water which helped to keep the fires of devotion from growing too warm. Having carefully removed an ancient German leg, I managed to rest by sitting on the ground, a new rubric I had to introduce also at the Communion, as otherwise I could not have emptied the chalice. I feel that when I get home again I shall be absolutely miserable because everything will be so clean and dry and comfortable. Perhaps some kind friend will pour a bucket or two of water over my bed occasionally to keep me in good spirits.

“When night fell, I made my way up to the part of the line which could not be approached in daylight, to bury an officer and some men. A couple of grimy, unwashed figures emerged from the bowels of the earth to help me, but first knelt down and asked for Absolution. They then leisurely set to work to fill in the grave. “Hurry up, boys,” I said, “I don’t want to have to bury you as well,” for the spot was a hot one. They both stopped working much to my disgust, for I was just longing to get away. “Be gobs, Father,” replied one, “I haven’t the devil a bit of fear in me now after the holy Absolution.” “Nor I,” chimed in the other, “I am as happy as a king.” The poor Padre who had been keeping his eye on a row of “trumps” which were coming unpleasantly near felt anything but happy; however, there was nothing for it but to stick it out as the men were in a pious mood; and he escaped at last, grateful that he was not asked to say the rosary.”

10TH AUGUST

“A sad morning as casualties were heavy and many men came in dreadfully wounded. One man was the bravest I ever met. He was in dreadful agony, for both legs had been blown off at the knee. But never a complaint fell from his lips, even while they dressed his wounds, and he tried to make light of his injuries. “Thank God, Father,” he said, “ I am able to stick it out to the end. Is it not all for little Belgium?” The Extreme Unction, as I have noticed time and again, eased his bodily pain. “I am much better now and easier, God bless you,” he said, as I left him to attend a dying man. He opened his eyes as I knelt beside him: “Ah, Fr. Doyle, Fr. Doyle,” he whispered faintly, and then motioned me to bend lower as if he had some message to give. As I did so he put his two arms round my neck and kissed me. It was all the poor fellow could do to show his gratitude that he had not been left to die alone, and that he would have the consolation of receiving the Last Sacraments before he went to God. Sitting a little way off I saw a hideous bleeding object, a man with his face smashed by a shell, with one if not both eyes torn out. He raised his head as I spoke. “Is that the priest? Thank God, I am all right now.” I took his blood-covered hands in mine as I searched his face for some whole spot on which to anoint him. I think I know better now why Pilate said “Behold the Man” when he showed Our Lord to the people.

“In the afternoon, while going my rounds, I was forced to take shelter in the dug-out of a young officer belonging to another regiment. For nearly two hours I was a prisoner, and found out he was a Catholic from Dublin, and had been married just a month. Was this a chance visit, or did God send me there to prepare him for death, for I had not long left the spot when a shell burst and killed him? I carried his body out the next day and buried him in a shell-hole, and once again I blessed that protecting Hand which had shielded me from his fate.

“That night we moved headquarters and aid-post to a more advanced position, a strong concrete emplacement, but a splendid target for the German gunners. For the forty-eight hours we were there they hammered us almost constantly day and night till I thought our last hour had come. There we lived with a foot, some times more, of water on the floor, pretty well soaked through, for it was raining hard at times. Sleep was almost impossible-fifty shells a minute made some noise-and to venture out without necessity was foolishness. We were well provided with tinned food, and a spirit-lamp for making hot tea, so that we were not too badly off, and rather enjoyed hearing the German shells hopping off the roof or bursting on the walls of their own strong fort.”

11TH AUGUST

“Close beside us I had found the remains of a dugout which had been blown in the previous day, and three men killed. I made up my mind to offer up Mass there for the repose of their souls. In any case “ I did not know a better “ole to go to,” and to this little act of charity I attribute the saving of my life later on in the day. I had barely fitted up my altar when a couple of shells burst overhead, sending the clay tumbling down. For a moment I felt very tempted not to continue as the place was far from safe, but later I was glad I went on, for the Holy Souls certainly came to my aid as I did to theirs.

“I had finished breakfast and had ventured a bit down the trench to find a spot to bury some bodies left lying there. I had reached a sheltered comer, when I heard the scream of a shell coming towards me rapidly, and judging by the sound, straight for the spot where I stood. Instinctively I crouched down, and well I did so, for the shell whizzed past my head-I felt my hair blown about by the hot air-and burst in front of me with a deafening crash. It seemed to me as if a heavy wooden hammer had hit me on the top of the head, and I reeled like a drunken man, my ears ringing with the explosion. For a moment I stood wondering how many pieces of shrapnel had hit me, or how many legs and arms I had left, and then dashed through the thick smoke to save myself being buried alive by the shower of falling clay which was rapidly covering me. I hardly know how I reached the dug-out, for I was speechless and so badly shaken that it was only by a tremendous effort I was able to prevent myself from collapsing utterly as I had seen so many do from shell-shock. Then a strange thing happened: something seemed to whisper in my ear, one of those sudden thoughts which flash through the mind:”Did not that shell come from the hand of God? He willed it should be so. Is it not a proof that He can protect you no matter what the danger?”

“The thought that it was all God’s doing acted like a tonic; my nerves calmed down, and shortly after I was out again to see if I could meet another iron friend. As a matter of fact I wanted to see exactly what had happened, for the report of a high-explosive shell is so terrific that one is apt to exaggerate distances. An officer recently assured me he was only one foot from a bursting shell, when in reality he was a good 40 yards away. You may perhaps find it hard to believe, as I do myself, what I saw. I had been standing by a trellis-work of thin sticks. By stretching out my hand I could touch the screen, and the shell fell smashing the woodwork ! My escape last year at Loos was wonderful, but then I was some yards away, and partly protected by a bend in the trench. Here the shell fell, I might say, at my very feet; there was no bank, no protection except the wall of your good prayers and the protecting arm of God.

“That night we were relieved, or rather it was early morning, 4.30 A.M., when the last company marched out. I went with them so that I might leave no casualties behind. We hurried over the open as fast as we could, floundering in the thick mud, tripping over wire in the darkness, and, I hope, some of the lay members cursing the German gunners for disturbing us by-an odd shot. We had nearly reached the road, not knowing it was a marked spot, when like a hurricane a shower of shells came smashing down upon us. We were fairly caught, and for once I almost lost hope of getting through in safety. For five minutes or more we pushed on in desperation; we could not stop to take shelter, for dawn was breaking, and we should have been seen by the enemy. Right and left in front and behind, some far away, many very close, the shells kept falling. Crash! One has pitched in the middle of the line, wounding five men, none of them seriously. Surely God is good to us, for it seems impossible a single man will escape unhurt, and then when the end seemed at hand, our batteries opened fire with a roar to support an attack that was beginning. The German guns ceased like magic, or turned their attention elsewhere, and we scrambled on to the road, and reached home without further loss.”

This was the end of Fr. Doyle’s diary. There followed just this last message to his father, so pathetic in the light of his death next day: “I have told you all my escapes, dearest father, because I think what I have written will give you the same confidence which I feel, that my old armchair up in Heaven is not ready yet, and I do not want you to be uneasy about me. I am all the better for these couple of days” rest, and am quite on my fighting legs again. Leave will be possible very shortly, I think, so I shall only say au revoir in view of an early meeting. Heaps of love to every dear one. As ever, dearest Father, your loving son, Willie. 14/8/17.” Before this letter had reached home, the great Leave Day had come for Willie Doyle. He was called Home to his “old armchair” in heaven!

The recital, which has just been given of Fr. Doyle’s superhuman exertions and hairbreadth escapes, has made it abundantly clear that only by some continuous miracle could he hope to survive another such advance. It came next day when once more the Irish troops were moved up through and beyond Ypres to the front line running from St. Julien to the Roulers railway south of Frezenberg. Every insignificant rise in the undulating Flemish farmlands in front of them was crowned by a German post; there were several strong “pill-boxes” (concrete blockhouses), and in the middle of the line of attack a spur (Hill 35) dominated every approach. It was these redoubts-especially Borry Farm Redoubt with its sixty expert gunners-which frustrated all attempts of the Irish when at dawn on Wednesday, 15th August, they made their attack. Moreover, no supporting waves came up, for no living beings could get through the transverse fire of the German machine-guns. And so when the German counter-attack was launched in the afternoon, the Rifles, the Dublins, and the Inniskillings had to retire, taking with them what wounded they could. Many groups were surrounded and cut off , or had to fight their way back in the night.

Fr. Doyle was speeding all day hither and thither over the battlefield like an angel of mercy. His words of Absolution were the last words heard on earth by many an Irish lad that day, and the stooping figure of priest and father, seen through blinding blood, filled the glance of many in their agony. Perhaps once more some speechless youth ebbing out his life’s blood kissed his beloved padre, or by a silent handshake bade farewell to the father of his soul. “Ah, Father Doyle, Father Doyle.” “Is that the priest? Thank God, I am all right now.” “Ah, Father, is that you? Thanks be to God for His goodness in sending you; my heart was sore to die without the priest.” . . . All the little stories come back to us as we try to reconstruct that last great day of priestly ministry and sacrifice. We shall never know here below, for towards the evening of that heroic day Fr. Doyle died a martyr of charity. The great dream which had haunted him for a lifetime had come true; he had shed his blood while working for Christ. “Greater love than this no man hath, that a man lay down his life for his friends.” (S. John 15. 13.) Details of Fr. Doyle’s death are known. When on 15th August the fighting became desperate and retirement inevitable, all non-combatants, including the doctor and chaplain, got orders to retire. Fr. Doyle did not retire-how could he when he was wanted so badly?- but continued to go round ministering to the wounded. About 3 P.M. he came to the Regimental Aid Post, which was in charge of a Corporal Raitt, the doctor having retired according to orders. With Fr. Doyle was Private McInespie who was acting as his “runner.” Whilst in the Aid Post word came that a wounded officer of the Dublins was lying in an exposed position. Fr. Doyle left the Aid Post at once, crawled out to the wounded man, and ministered to him. Then he proceeded to half-drag, half-carry him to a safer place. McInespie, who had followed, came up after a while and helped him with his burden. They got to a Pill-Box, out of which came two officers who stood around. The wounded officer was still alive, and Fr. Doyle asked McInespie to get some water in order to give him a drink. McInespie had gone a little way, and, as the shelling began to grow heavier, the chaplain and the two officers were moving towards the Pill-box, carrying the wounded man, when a shell dropped close by, killing Fr. Doyle and the two officers instantaneously, and hurling McInespie to the ground. When he recovered sufficiently, he struggled to his feet, and seeing that his companions, and presumably the wounded officer, were dead, he staggered back to the Aid Post, and gasping out, “Fr. Doyle is dead,” collapsed.

The above details were first learnt from a letter dictated to a Sergeant O”Brien by McInespie when in hospital suffering from the effects of the explosion of the shell that killed Fr. Doyle. After the war, McInespie came to Dublin and was interviewed. His story was practically the story sent by him from hospital. Corporal Raitt also came to Ireland.He, too, was interviewed and bore out substantially Mclnespie’s account. It has been asserted that some retiring Dublins, coming across the body of Fr. Doyle, gave it a hasty burial. No trace of such a grave has been found.

Mr. T. Cain, B.A., Head Master of Coleridge Street School, Hove, writes (26thOctober, 1945): “The official Life of Fr. Doyle states that his body was never recovered. This is only partially true. On the morning of 16th August, 1917, I was on machine-gun duty in a trench east of Wieltje near the road that forks to the right of St. Julien. I was with the 36th (Ulster) Division, whose troops had gone over the top that morning in an attack which failed. During the course of the morning four big Irish lads-Dublins, I believe came along the trench, carrying a stretcher. The trench was knee-deep in mud and water and carrying was difficult, so it is not surprising when they stopped to rest. I noticed then that they were weeping, and with Kipling and the “beloved Colonel” in mind, I asked if the Colonel had been wounded. They replied that he had not, but that Fr. Doyle had been killed while attending the wounded in No Man’s Land, and they were taking the body back for burial. One of them added bitterly that there was no need for him to have been killed at all, since he could do nothing for the lads out there as they were all probably dead. I was greatly struck by the fact that these men had risked their lives in searching for and removing a corpse under heavy shell-fire, and were now taking a great deal of trouble to give it burial. My companion, a Protestant, was also much impressed, and remarked on the affection showed for a chaplain by Catholics. After a while the bearers passed on, left the trench and got on to a road near by. Almost immediately a heavy barrage was dropped on the area, and it is my opinion that the four men were killed by a direct hit on the road.”

It seems likely, therefore, that the remains of him, who often risked his life to bury friend and foe, lie commingled with those of countless unnamed companions beneath the plains of Ypres. Is not such a fate the consummation of his martyrdom? “Entice the wild beasts to become my tomb, and to leave no trace of my body,” writes Ignatius of Antioch to the Romans, “ so that falling asleep I may be a burden to no-one. Then shall I really be a disciple of Jesus Christ, when the world will not even see my body.”

Mr. Cain’s letter raises an interesting point, namely, the date of Fr. Doyle’s death. Up to this the accepted date has been 16th August. General Hickie, commanding the 16thDivision, in a letter to Fr. Doyle’s father, states that Fr. Doyle was killed on 16th August. Mr. Cain says it was on the morning of 16th August that the Dublins came along carrying Fr. Doyle’s body. Finally, Mr. Michael Hartney, Kilnagrange, Kilmacthomas, Co. Waterford, writing under date, 12th November, 1945, says: “ Mr. Cain is correct in stating that Fr. Doyle was killed on 16th August. I was on the eastern slope of Frezenberg Ridge during the greater part of that day with the Irish Rifles, one of the battalions of which Fr. Doyle was chaplain. Early that morning word reached our H.Q. to the effect that the troops to our right were retiring. The Colonel sent an officer to investigate. On his return a few hours later, this officer, a non-Catholic, said to me, “Hartney, I”m afraid your chaplain, Fr. Doyle, has been killed.” He then added that he had seen Fr. Doyle’s dead body with others near a pillbox.”

The account given by Mr. Cain and Mr. Hartney would seem to indicate that Fr. Doyle was killed 16th August, and so to confirm the accepted opinion of the date of his death. If their account be correct, however, Fr. Doyle must have been, killed between midnight and the early hours of the 16th August, since he was found dead on the morning of that day. Now, both Corporal Raitt, who saw and spoke to Fr. Doyle shortly before his death, and Mclnespie, Fr. Doyle’s runner, who saw him killed, assert that he met his death during the afternoon between three and five o‘clock. Their evidence is borne out by Christopher Flynn, Delgany, Co. Wicklow. His testimony is the more valuable since before giving his account he had never heard or read the story of Fr. Doyle’s death, and so was not influenced by other accounts.

Flynn was a stretcher-bearer in the 8th Dublins, and was present at the attack made in August along the line from St. Julien to Frezenberg. According to Flynn, the 8th Dublins attacked at dawn on 14th or 15th August-he is certain it was one of these days, but not certain which of them. For most of the morning Fr. Doyle was with Flynn, helping him with the wounded, and absolving and anointing those near death. After some hours Fr. Doyle left Flynn and moved away up the line. Towards evening the shelling became so heavy that Flynn and a man named Morrissey had to take shelter in a dug-out. While they were going there, Flynn saw Fr. Doyle and two officers moving towards a German pill-bog some three or four hundred yards away. As he looked, a shell burst near by, and Fr. Doyle and the two officers fell. As the shelling began to get heavier, Flynn and his companion withdrew further back; they made no attempt to go to Fr. Doyle and the fallen officers. This happened in the evening of the day of the attack between 4 and 6 p.m; it might have been a little earlier, Flynn admits. But he is quite positive that Fr. Doyle was killed in the evening, and on the day the attack was made, namely, the 14th or 15th August.

From these various accounts the events in connection with Fr. Doyle’s death may be sit down, with almost certainty, as follows: The 8th Dublins attacked at daybreak on 15th August. Fr. Doyle was killed the evening of that day. His dead body was seen on the morning of 16th August by an officer of the Irish Rifles sent to investigate. Later in the morning four of the Dublins, searching for the body, found it and brought it along for burial as described by Mr. Cain.

Thus did “Darling Mother Mary,” on the feast of her Assumption, fulfil her part of the compact made with her loyal soldier twenty-four years before-and once more in blood!

It will not be inappropriate here to find a place for some military tributes to the soldier son of a soldier saint.

“All through the worst hours an Irish padre went about among the dead and dying, giving Absolution to his boys. Once he came back to headquarters, but he would not take a bite of food or stay, though his friends urged him. He went back to the field to minister to those who were glad to see him, bending over them in their last agony. Four men were killed by shell-fire as he knelt beside them, and he was not touched-not touched until his own turn came. A shell burst close by, and the padre fell dead.” (Sir Philip Gibbs in the Daily Chronicle and the Daily Telegraph; also in his book, From Bapaume to Paschendale, 1917, p. 254.)

“The Orangemen will not forget a certain Roman Catholic chaplain who lies in a soldier’s grave in that sinister plain beyond Ypres. Hs went forward and back over the battlefield with bullets whining about him, seeking out the dying and kneeling in the mud beside them to give them Absolution, walking with death with a smile on his face, watched by his men with reverence and a kind of awe until a shell burst near him, and he was killed. His familiar figure was seen and welcomed by hundreds of Irishmen who lay in that bloody place. Each time he came back across the field he was begged to remain in comparative safety. Smilingly he shook his head and went again into the storm. He had been with his boys at Ginchy and through other times of stress, and he would not desert them in their agony. They remember him as a saint-they speak his name with tears.” (Percival Phillips in the Daily Express and also the Morning Post, 22nd August, 1917.)

“Many tales of individual gallantry are told; two instances, especially, which should be recorded; one being that of an officer of the Royal Army Medical Corps attached to the Leinsters, who spent five hours in circumstances. of the greatest danger tending the wounded, and behaving in all ways with consummate heroism; and the other that of a Roman Catholic chaplain who went up with the men, sustained and cheered them to the last, till he was killed.” (The Time,8, 22nd August, 1917.)

“No account, however fragmentary, of the 8th(Dublins) would be complete,” writes Frank M. Laird in Personal Experiences of the Great War, “ without remembering our R.C. Padre, Father Doyle, a Dublin Jesuit. His name was known and loved throughout the whole Division for unexampled bravery, and equal kindliness. When shells dropped round, ordinary mortals took cover or an opposite direction. Fr. Doyle made for them to see if he was wanted. One morning in the line, I was standing watching the communication trench a short way down getting a very nasty shelling. In a few minutes Fr. Doyle arrived smiling, having just come through it in his usual visit to the front line, without his tin hat, which he could not be induced to wear. His gentlemanly manner, with his quiet humour and cheery conversation, all made him a very pleasant man to meet at any time and most of all in a bad time.

“Is it any wonder that he was welcome in every mess, that the men worshipped the ground he trod on, and that he wasworth several officers in any hot spot where endurance was tested to its height?”

“If I had gone through the thousandth part of what Fr. Doyle did,” said Captain Healy (8thDubhns), “or if I had run a hundredth part of the risks he ran, I should have been dead long ago. Whenever there was danger, there was Fr. Doyle; and wherever Fr. Doyle was, there was danger. When I saw him coming towards me, I told him to go away as I knew the enemy would shell the place at once! When shells were raining on us, he used to wander about from dug-out to dug-out as if he was taking a walk for the good of his health. If a man was hit, you would think he knew it by instinct; he was with the wounded man before anyone else was. It didn’t matter where the man was lying, out he went to him.”

“He was one of the finest fellows I ever met,” wrote Lt.-Col. H. R. Stirke (commanding the 8thDubhns), “utterly fearless, always with a cheery word on his lips, and ever ready to go out and attend the wounded and dying under the heaviest fire. He was genuinely loved by everybody, and thoroughly deserved the unstinted praise he got from all ranks for his rare pluck and devotion to duty.” .

“Fr. Doyle,” said another Colonel who knew him intimately, “felt fear deeply. He had a highly-strung nervous system and a vivid imagination that visualised danger fully, and realised the risk before him-all the physical elements of cowardice were his. He went out to perils, not at the word of command that meant death to disobey, not with the lust of battle surging in his veins and sweeping him along with a primitive savage longing to kill, not in the company of cheering, sustaining comrades. Fr. Doyle had no word of command, but his conscience and his sense of duty. He had no violent emotions to blind him to danger. Usually he had no comrade to bear him company save grim Death, who walked very close to him at times. It may sound a paradox, but it is perfect truth: Father Doyle was the biggest coward in the 16thDivision, and the bravest man in the British Army! “An even more striking description was given by one of his men, who declared emphatically that Fr. Doyle was man in the War!”

“ the bloodiest bravest

“Fr. Doyle was one of the best priests I have ever met,” wrote General Hickie, commanding the 16thDivision, “and one of the bravest men who have fought or worked out here. He did his duty, and more than his duty, most nobly, and has left a memory and a name behind him that will never be forgotten., On the day of his death, 16th August, he had worked in the front line, and even in front of that line, and appeared to know no fatigue-he never knew fear. I can say without boasting that this is a Division of brave men; yet even among these Fr. Doyle stood out. He was loved and reverenced by all; his gallantry, self-sacrifice, and devotion to duty were all so well known and recognised. I think that his was the most wonderful character that I have ever known.

“He was recommended for the Victoria Cross by his Commanding Officer, by his Brigadier, and by myself. Superior Authority, however, has not granted it, and as no other posthumous reward is given, his name will, I believe, be mentioned in the Commander-inChief’s Despatch.”

Though Fr. Doyle cared nothing for human decorations-it was another Commander-in-Chief under Whom he served-it seems right to chronicle this judgment of others and to record the fact that, besides winning the Military Cross, he was recommended for the D.S.O. at Wytschaete and the V.C. at Frezenberg. Even before the Frezenberg action, he was reputed by many to have earned the V.C. Thus Lieutenant Galvin, writing home on 14th August, 1917, says: “If ever a man earned the V.C. in this war, it is Fr. Doyle. He is simply splendid. He comes up every night under heavy shellfire, burying the dead, and binding the wounded, and cheering the men.” “Everybody says Fr. Doyle has earned the V.C. many times over,” writes a Sergeant of the Dublin Fusiliers in a letter to his mother, “and I can vouch for this myself from what I have seen him do many a time.” “Fr. Doyle deserves the V.C. more than any man who ever won it,” said the Adjutant of Fr. Browne’s two Battalions.

The refusal of Superior Authority to recognise conspicuous bravery attested to by men of several regiments, by Fr. Doyle’s brother-officers, by his Commanding Officer, by his Brigadier, and by the General of his Division, aroused widespread astonishment and disgust. A fellow-chaplain in The Month (1921) voiced the sentiments of very man when he wrote: “I cannot refrain here from expressing my opinion that among the many glaring inconsistencies that disfigured the award of honours, none was more remarkable than the refusal of the V.C. to this chaplain, who merited it as truly as any one of those-all honour to them-who received it; and not once alone, but twenty times. One hardly knows what to think.”

In its own way the following generous appreciation by a Belfast Orangeman is rather unique. It was published in the Glasgow Weekly News of 1st September, 1917.

“Fr. Doyle was a good deal among us. We couldn’t possibly agree with his religious opinions, but we simply worshipped him for other things. He didn’t know the meaning of fear, and he didn’t know what bigotry was. He was as ready to risk his life to take a drop of water to a wounded Ulsterman as to assist men of his own faith and regiment. If he risked his life in looking after Ulster Protestant soldiers once, he did it a hundred times in the last few days . The Ulstermen felt his loss more keenly than anybody, and none were readier to show their marks of respect to the dead hero-priest than were our Ulster Presbyterians. Fr. Doyle was a true Christian in every sense of the word, and a credit to any religious faith. He never tried to get things easy. He was always sharing the risks of the men, and had to be kept in restraint by the staff officers for his own protection. Many a time have I seen him walk beside a stretcher trying to console a wounded man with bullets flying around him and shells bursting every few yards.”

An even more convincing testimony was borne by a Fusilier who happened to be home in Dublin on leave at the time of Fr. Doyle’s death. Meeting a friend who told him the news, he kept repeating incredulously:

“He’s not dead. He couldn’t be killed! “When at last he was shown a paper describing the padre’s death, the poor fellow knelt down on the pavement and began to pray. Then to the crowd which gathered round him he recounted how, when he was lying wounded in an exposed position, and expecting every moment to be killed by a shell, Fr. Doyle had crept out to him and carried him to a place of safety. A similarly spontaneous tribute was paid to Fr. Doyle’s memory by a burglar, presumably an ex-soldier, who broke into Mr. Doyle’s house in Dalkey at midnight in January, 1922. He made the poor old man get up and unlock all the drawers. In ransacking a drawer he came across a mortuary card of Fr. Doyle.”Who’s that?” he asked excitedly. “That’s my son, Fr. Willie Doyle, who gave his life for the soldiers in Flanders,” answered Mr. Doyle. “That was a holy priest,” replied the robber, “he saved many souls.” Whereupon he took the card, kissed it, put it in his pocket, and left without taking anything else!

Fr. Browne, who had been with Fr. Doyle in Clongowes and Belvedere, who had, above all, been so intimately associated with him in their joint mission to the 48th Brigade, expressed his grief and his esteem in a letter, written on 20th August, from which a passage may be quoted

“ All during these last months he was my greatest help, and to his saintly advice, and still more to his saintly example, I owe everything I felt and did. With him, as with others of us, his bravery was no mere physical show-off. He was afraid and felt fear deeply, how deeply few can realise. And yet the last word said of him to me by the Adjutant of the Royal Irish Rifles in answer to my question, “I hope you are taking care of Fr. Doyle?” was, “He is as fond of the shells as ever”. His one idea was to do God’s work with the men, to make them saints. How he worked and how he prayed for this! Fine weather and foul he was always thinking of them and what he could do for them. In the cold winter he would not use the stove I bought for our dugout. He scoffed at the idea as making it “stuffy”-and that when the thermometer was fifteen to twenty degrees below zero, the coldest ever known in living memory here! And how he loathed it all, the life and everything it implied! And yet nobody suspected it. God’s Will was his law. And to all who remonstrated, “Must I not be about the Lord’s business?” was his laughing answer in act and deed, and not merely in word. May he rest in peace-it seems superfluous to pray for him.”

There once more we have Fr. Doyle’s unmistakable portrait, those characteristic traits familiar now to us who in these pages have read his inner life: the jest-concealed cross, the unsuspected loathing, the fear so pleasantly disguised, the selfless work and incessant prayer, the loving trustfulness in God’s Will. And as we come to the close of this life-story, all its incidents are gathered up in memory to blend into a final cadence-the novice’s blood-sealed covenant, the consuming love and zeal, the hidden reparation, the vigils and scourgings, the pond at Rathfarnham, the nettles at Delgany, the mud and blood of West Flanders and the Somme. Nothing befitted such a life like the leaving of it.

“Did you not know that I must be about my Father’s business?” he would have gently asked us, had we, prudent ones, expostulated with him that day for being foolhardy. His Father’s business: not bloodshed and hate and strife, but mercy and brotherhood and reconciliation. He might, of course, have stayed behind in Ypres or St. Julien; he could, had he wished, have kept out of danger. Perchance there were some who said, “ He saved others, himself he cannot save.” They were right. “ For whoever wishes to save his life, will lose it, and whoever for My sake loses his life, will save it. What does it avail a man if, after gaining the whole world, he has lost or forfeited himself ?” “For My sake”- “I tell you, as often as you did it for one of these My brothers, however lowly, you did it for Me.” Beyond and besides the great legion of faithful ordinary workers, there is need of a handful of heroes, men who save others because they cannot save themselves. Nicely calculated prudence could not survive without some of the foolishness of the Cross. The death of a hero or a martyr is a higher achievement than mere continuance of physical life.

“Lord, if it be Thou,” cried impetuous Peter, “bid me come to Thee upon the waters.” And Christ said “Come” to foolish Peter, while the prudent apostles remained in the boat. Surely, as Fr. Doyle on that August morning looked out upon those undulating Flemish fields where shell-barrage and bullet-blasts laid low the advancing waves of brave men, surely he heard the Master’s voice bidding him come to Him upon the waters. And he came; with his greathearted faith he never doubted. “I am not foolhardy nor do I expose myself to danger unnecessarily, the coward is too strong in me for that; but when duty calls I know I can count on the help of One who has never failed me yet.” How could he resist? Out yonder, in Verlorenhoek and Frezenberg and along the Hannebeke stream, the smashed and bleeding bodies of his poor fellows were lying.

“My poor brave boys! They are lying now out on the battle-field: some in a little grave dug and blessed by their chaplain, who loves them all as if they were his own children; others stiff and stark with staring eyes, hidden in a shell-hole, where they had crept to die; while perhaps in some far-off thatched cabin an anxious mother sits listening for the wellknown step and voice which will never gladden her ear again.” Having loved his “poor brave boys” in this world, and eased their passage to the next, he loved them to the end. He did not desert them in their day of defeat without dishonour. And so, somewhere near the Cross Roads of Frezenberg, where he lies buried with them, the chaplain and men of the 48th Brigade are waiting together for the great Reveille.

********

The Family And The Cross

THE STATIONS OF THE CROSS AND THEIR RELATION TO FAMILY LIFE

BY JOSEPH A. BREIG

INDEX

INTRODUCTION

ASK MOTHERS AND fathers if they would like to become saints. Many apologetically answer, “Would that I had the time! I am too busy rearing the children, keeping house, making ends meet.” This recalls the days when some considered sanctity a luxury for the rich, who in being able to afford servants, could spend long hours in church and in prayer: they were often considered to be the holy ones. Pope Benedict XV defined holiness as “doing the will of God according to one’s state of life.” In the state of grace and with the right intention, married people can become saints doing their everyday home work. They often gain more graces with a dish cloth than with a Rosary, as one may sometime gain more graces getting up in the middle of the night to care for a baby than spending an hour in church. It is a matter of doing the right thing at the right time. Yes, but even more, it is fulfilling a sacramental vocation. This cannot be said in the same sense about being a lawyer, or a secretary, or a farmer. Marriage is a vocation; it is holy; it is a sacrament; it is a means of going to heaven. It is interesting that only three of the sacraments are entitled “holy”: Holy Eucharist, Holy Orders, Holy Matrimony-not that the others are not holy but these are specifically designated. As a priest gets graces when he hears confessions, preaches, reads his breviary, so a couple under the right conditions is flooded with God’s graces when they love each other, nurse a baby, teach the children. This because they too are fulfilling their vocation. It is because more and more people see marriage as a vocation that we can hope for more and more saints among those living family life. In Peru four natives have already been canonized and one beatified in a hundred years. In the U.S.A. so far we still have had no natives canonized. I am afraid we are not even remotely thinking in the direction of trying to be worthy to be a canonized saint.

Mr. Joseph Breig makes a new and important contribution to family spirituality in this book, “The Fami ly and the Cross.” We priests may sometimes clericalize holiness; we may portray holiness as something purely monastic. In this booklet there is a unique and attractive lay vocabulary, lay thinking, lay example. It is a timely emphasis.

Married couples are sometimes unaware that suffering is one of their great home-made tools for sanctity. It is looked upon as an annoyance, but Christian marital love necessarily involves suffering, for the essence of unity is not so much to enjoy each other, but to suffer together. Still joy and suffering are not two sides of a unity called love. What was once “desire” before marriage becomes “offering” after marriage. Some have described love as having three aspects: the digestive, the reciprocal, and the oblative. It is inthe “oblative” sense, this self-giving and suffering that a couple purifies love. Without these elements, love would die, for passion can only promise, love can keep that promise. To refuse the call of selfimmolation is the “sin” of obduracy and a rejection of love. One is then of no use to God, to society, to each other, or to oneself. To say “no” to this human impulse is to corrupt all one touches. It is the cult of selfishness. The Cross can teach us to love our neighbor; it can teach us compassion. Three-fourths of us, it is said, need it, but there is a strange, unhappy feeling that in too many souls this ingredient is left out.

The Cross is our main tool of sanctity at home. Christian love understands the Cross if it is seen in the context of Heaven. For pagans the Cross is a scandal. It absorbs them like whirlpools in a river at flood height. Suffering, however, must draw men outside of themselves. It is a reminder of Divinity itself. Not good in itself, the Cross can be priceless as a means of grace.

The bell rings in the life of everyone of us and all of us are someday called upon to suffer. The non-Christian tries to escape suffering and he becomes hard and selfish. He seeks comfort only and his spiritual energy dries up, but he must learn to suffer or it will destroy him. The egotist detaches himself from spiritual reality and becomes a hollow being-an empty body. Like the statue of Buddha, he looks down only at his own stomach and does not see the needy around him.

Not all can see the value of suffering. Suffering is often so inward, so hard to articulate. It has been a special mystery to all, especially pagans. Their many explanations have never been satisfactory. The Stoic saw in suffering a test of sheer courage; he was completely indifferent to it. The Epicurean saw his answer in pleasure, and the Dolorist tried to delude himself and saw evil as good and actually exulted in that which diminished him. Others saw in suffering only a mere punishment.

In his down-to-earth meditations, Mr. Breig gives a Catholic answer to the existence of the Cross. He shows that those who suffer most could well be our most important parishioners. A good Catholic makes friends with pain. He holds God’s gifts close to himself but always with open hands. When God allowsus sufferings it is not “to do us harm but to gather us into His arms.” Suffering never gags a Christian, upon it he sharpens his teeth. Like a cargo stabilizing a ship against storms, so suffering stabilizes us against the storms of passion. Mr. Breig weaves suffering into everyday family life and helps explain its mystery. Humanity will ever question suffering, as Job did so dramatically and so officially. But Job gave an answer. Pagan philosophers never learned it. Christ gave the answer for all times: suffering calls less for a philosophy, more for a living of it as worthwhile. “So vast was this question,” says Paul Claudel, the great convert to Catholicism, “that the Word alone could answer it, but He did so not by an explanation, only by His presence.” This presence helped Mary who stood beneath the first Red Cross crimsoned by the blood of her Son; it helped Veronica who so lovingly held a cool, moist compress to the throbbing, fevered brow of Christ; it helped Simon of Cyrene, who later gave his life to serve others, this same Simon must have seen the pallid face of Christ among the poor and on every crumpled pillow where a sick man’s head lay.

We learn with St. Francis de Sales that the love of Jesus begins in the Passion. We learn with Bishop Neumann of the deep beauty of the Litany of the Sacred Heart-a prayer he vowed to say every day. With St. Alphonsus we become more conscious of the Cross. It is constantly in his writing. When he saw a nail, a rope, a thorn, he thought instantly and tenderly of the Passion. The Cross returns us to the nothingness that we are and yet it lifts us into eternity. With Abraham Lincoln we fall on our knees often with the realization that there is no one else to go to.

In many churches of the country a large, special cross is carried in church for the Stations. There is no corpus on the cross; each person is reminded that he must replace Christ on the cross. He must learn how to suffer and why he suffers. He must be an extension of Christ. Christ has plunged Himself into humanity and wants us to make Him real today. He wants us to continue His Redemption, but this is done not by writing a good book, or organizing well, or by a great oration. One is a Christian when he or she represents Christ, “witnesses” Christ. Deeply we surrender our will, not with a mere external offering like that of Cain, but with an internal-external oblation like that of Abel-like that of Christ. The external gift is a symbol of the internal giving. We represent Christ so perfectly that we become a mystery to those around us.

In the everyday romance of the world we pierce our valentines with an arrow. The Sacred Heart is the first, true Valentine sent by the Father. But His love is pictured by a heart and a cross rather than an arrow. His heart is not only the symbol of love but the Cross of hope. The Cross is not the symbol of death; it is the symbol of life. The Stations do not end with a dead Christ in the tomb, but a glorious, living Christ on Easter Sunday, and always in our tabernacles. He is every city’s most distinguished resident who invites His best friends constantly to “take up your Cross and follow Me.” The Cross is Christ’s way of identifying Himself and His own. Christians realize it is a gift, not a curse for with Dante “sorrow remarries us to God.”

RT. REV. MSGR. IRVING A. DEBLANC

Director, Family Life Bureau

National Catholic Welfare Conference

I -JESUS IS CONDEMNED TO DEATH

EACH OF US is condemned to death. Let’s face it. There is no use in being afraid of facts. We may turn our backs, but the facts won’t go away. The sensible thing, the honest thing, and in the long run by far the pleasantest thing, is to see life clearly as it really is, to accept its conditions, and then to make the most of it.

Every parent, it seems to me, ought to make the effort of profoundly realizing that the moment a child is born, the child starts to grow away from its father and mother. The child, indeed, begins to die, even in the instant that it begins to live. By honest facing of such realities, we can make realities serve us, make them stimulate us rather than terrifying us into inaction-or wrong action.

It is simply a fact of family life that children are made to serve God, not to serve parents. And parents are made to serve God, not to serve children. These are happy facts; not unhappy facts. And understand, I am only trying to get the emphasis right, because it is the emphasis that is at the root of all happiness, and all true success.

Much of every child’s service of God will consist in being good to his parents. And much of each parent’s service of God will consist in being good to the children. But as I said, the emphasis must be right, because if it isn’t, we will all harm one another instead of helping one another.

Dreadful damage is done to children by parents who act on the unspoken assumption that children exist to serve parental comfort or parental ambitions. And dreadful damage is done to children who are allowed to grow up supposing that their parents exist to serve them. Corrosive family unhappiness is rooted in such errors.

We must get clear in our heads and hearts, from the beginning, that if God sends us a child, he sends us some one who is made to serve Him- to take up his cross and follow Christ. We ought not to shy away from that word”cross.” God sends no cross that we cannot carry; and most of our crosses are small ones. The point is to trust Christ and follow Him; He will not let our backs be broken.

Now if you will face honestly the facts about your own destiny, then almost automatically you will rear your children to face honestly and bravely the facts about theirs. And if you do that, you will have prepared your children properly for life-for this life and life everlasting.

There is no sense in concealing from ourselves and our little ones that we are condemned to death by Adam’s sin; that the central fact of life is death, and that the life that achieves a good death is the only life worth the living, the only life that is successful.

Nor should we try to evade the fact that although we are condemned by inheritance to physical death, there is a truly terrible and hideously permanent death to which we can condemn ourselves-and to which nobody else can condemn us: the death of the soul.

Once we have faced those realities, there is nothing else that we need fear overmuch. Other condemnations, certainly, will come upon us. Pilate was a figure of the compromising and vacillating world. He was the incarnation of the timeserving of the world, as Christ was the incarnation of God who is infinitely just and good. God and the world faced each other in Christ and Pilate.

There will be Pilates in our lives and the lives of our children.

Time-servers will counsel cowardice, and condemn us if we reject it. The world sometimes will wash its hands of us if we follow Christ. Let it wash.

God forbid that we should be the Pilate type of parent, teaching cheap Pilatetry to our boys and girls! No; what we want is not over-protected youngsters, but youth prepared to face up to life, to face it with Christ and as Christ faced it. We do not want a young man or a young woman clinging to us when duty calls; we want the kind who will take us by the hand firmly, say good-bye, let go, and turn away into destiny. And we want to be the kind of parents who proudly watch our children go.

The world will often wash its hands of brave and just men. But Christ came to redeem every one, including Pilate. What we want in our family life is the courage to join Christ in His work of Redemption; to be undisturbed when the world washes its hands, and to go on working serenely for the salvation of the very world that rejects us.

Parents and children must go away from one another in order that they may be forever united. It is the task of the Christian parent to turn the eyes and hearts of youngsters to God. And when that is done, we shall find that they have really been turned to us. But if we sentimentally make our children our own conveniences instead of God’s servers, we shall discover to our horror that we have lost them entirely.

As I said, it is a matter of emphasis. But the emphasis makes a difference as wide as the gulf between heaven and hell. Christ allowed Pilate to condemn Him not only that He might die for our redemption, but also in order to teach us that all things-including a Son’s love for His Mother and a Mother’s love for her Son-must yield to duty-to the will of God.

We are all condemned to death, but only so that death can open for us the door of life. The heart of a parent is burdened when a child answers God’s call to marriage or to religious life-but only in order that the same heart may later be proudly lifted to inexpressible happiness. That is the thing about the will of God-it demands of us only in order to give, heaped up, pressed down and running over; because God is infinitely good and infinitely wise.

And this is the great truth that we must convey to our children, both by word and example but above all by example- that life calls for courage andloyalty and devotion, and that the world’s opinion is a small thing. If the world has a good opinion of us, let us smile it away; and if the world has a bad opinion, let us smile that away too. What matters is not the world’s opinion and its nervous swinging between defense of us and condemnation of us. What matters is not Pilate’s judgment but Christ’s friendship; and the family which realizes that, has discovered the deepest secret of happiness and success.

II -JESUS IS MADE TO CARRY THE CROSS

THOSE AFFLICTED with selfpity have often debased the concept of “carrying the Cross.” They have made it a sniveling idea. Their sighs and tears and pietistic postures make it appear that they are being terribly put upon, and are bearing dreadful and unfair burdens with fantastic heroism. This sort of thing does indeed invite derision from scoffers like the communists, with their taunts about “pie in the sky” and about religion being the opium of the people.

This is a penalty which true religion has had to pay for its kindness and patience with the weakest and most selfcentered of its adherents. And men-that is, men as distinguished from women-must accept a large part of the guilt for this distortion of the noble and manly idea of taking up one’s cross and carrying it courageously and cheerfully. Far too many men have left religion to women and children; and what result could have been expected but that religion would come to appear feminine and sometimes almost childish? Women and children would not be women and children if they behaved like men. The fault is not theirs; the fault is men’s for not having been religiously manly.

The carrying of the cross, rightly understood, is the manliest idea in the world. In the final analysis, it is the only manly idea. No man is a real man who shirks crosses. But this does not mean that a man-or a woman or a child-should go around with upcast eyes like a plaster saint, making a great show of self-conscious patience under intolerable tribulations. The plain truth is that most of our tribulations are rather easily tolerable if only we will not magnify them out of all proportion with our own theatricalism.

The trouble with far too many of us is that we go through life as if we were writing, producing, directing, starring in, and ourselves being the audience for a melodrama about ourselves. Some people can make a Broadway production out of a headache, and a Shakespearean tragedy out of a smashed fender on their automobile. They are victims of selfdramatization and of a frantic sentimentalism. There are folks who will mourn the loss of a dog as if they had lost their immortal souls. These are the people who, as Chesterton remarked, spell the word “dog” backward. They make a dog their god; and if the dog dies, they behave as if the light had gone out of the sky and the future had turned to unrelieved despair.

To point this out is not being anti-dog or anti-anything. It is merely one of a thousand handy examples of the exaggeration of an ordinary sorrow into a thing too terrible to be borne. There are women who will become unfit to live with for weeks if a vase is broken. There are men who are inconsolable if their alma mater loses a football game. There are people who smash what ought to be a happy marriage because the wife wants to sleep instead of getting up for breakfast, or because the husband prefers reading books to dancing. We could multiply examples endlessly, but what we are talking about is those unfortunate human beings who have never outgrown being spoiled children, who have never learned to come to terms, realistically and good-naturedly, with life as life actually is.

The Christian concept of carrying the Cross is simply a nutshell description of an honest, mature and religious outlook on life. It is a simple fact that even the longest life is short. Even the most atrocious suffering must end. Even the most poignant sorrow is comparatively brief. The truth is that life and everything in life are merely means to an end, to a purpose, to an achievement. And the achievement is nothing short of an eternity of such happiness as cannot possibly be described because it is far beyond the power of the human mind to realize or to imagine.

When facts like those are firmly grasped and profoundly understood by the soul, then you have a man who is a man, or a woman who is a woman. You have a person who can put everything in a right perspective. You have somebody who is prepared to carry any cross because he knows that he is walking toward a fulfillment that will make everything, in retrospect, seem small. And this kind of person will not snivel over his crosses. He will not enlarge his crosses in his own mind until they tower like skyscrapers and increase in weight until they crush him.

The manliness, the magnificent manliness, of Christ is little appreciated. Christ knew from the instant of His conception what the climax of His life would be. He knew that his task was to live the most burdened life in all human history, and to die the most sorrowful death. But never did Christ have one instant of self-pity or self-glorification. He went at the work of living and of redeeming in the way that a real football star goes about the labor of driving toward the goal posts for a touchdown. The player can see his objective, and it is his objective that is ever uppermost in his mind. He is hardly aware of the bumps and bruises and weariness he endures on his way to the last stripe on the field. And that was the kind of manliness that Christ had.

Christ took up His cross because He had a job to do. He embraced it because it was the way to the eternal glory for which He had been born. And that is the attitude that each of us should have toward the crosses that come our way as the years pass.

Does one of your children die? Well, death is something for which each of us is born; it is a thing that is ever present in every life. What is really important is not the time of death, but the kind of death. Any good death at any time, any death in the love of God, is an everlasting triumph. Of course you sorrow if a child dies; but you do not, if you are a grownup Christian man or woman, elevate your sorrow into a religion forevermore. You do not make your sorrow a kind of idol to be worshipped each day that you live. You take up the cross, you carry it manfully, and by your courage and cheerfulness you make it smaller and smaller until it is very light. After all, each passing day, if you have the true view of life, brings you closer to the endless reunion with your child in unthinkable happiness.

It is properly the task of men to make religion a thoroughly manly thing. Oh, religion is womanly, too, and it is childlike. True religion is universal; it embraces every one. But religion is not what it ought to be unless it is manful also; unless it is firmly embraced and profoundly encompassed by real men who see life honestly and see it whole, and refuse to shrink from it or run away. Carrying the cross, truly, is nothing else than living bravely with the right motives and the right kind of love of God and fellowmen.

III -JESUS FALLS THE FIRST TIME

THE FATHER WHO has never reached the heights in business, industry or a profession is often the loudest in condemning his son for not making a brilliant record in school. The mother who bores all her friends stiff is not infrequently the first to criticize her daughter for not excelling in social graces.

To put the same thought into other words, you can usually depend on the man who never played football to denounce the mistakes of the team he is watching; and the chap who couldn’t throw a k ball to save his soul will tell everybody in ten thousand words what is wrong with the pitching in the big leagues.

The fellow who isn’t trying-who isn’t even playing- is often the first to criticize the fellow who is. And this small and mean and annoying human practice extends into the field of our relations with our Creator. The irreligious man-the chap who never goes to church- delights in reciting the faults and sins of religious people. This is a peculiarly simpleminded form of hypocrisy, because it ignores all the complexities of human nature, and the almost endless complications of the struggle for sanctity.

It is also almost a dead giveaway We cannot ever really judge anybody, but we may be sure that there is something wrong with the spiritual life of the man or woman who is quick to find fault and slow to praise. Often there is something very wrong with that person’s psychological life, too. He is trying to build himself up by tearing the other fellow down. He may not realize this, but more often than not it is a deep-seated cause of his critical attitude.

Another profound cause is lack of charity -that is, of love of God and fellowmen. Whoever really loves the other chap will be instant in recognizing and mentioning his virtues and achievements, and slow to speak of his sins and failures. When the other fails, he will either help him to his feet, or look the other way. He will not point a finger and shout at the crowd to draw attention to the fallen figure. If he does, he is not at all like God; and to be like God is our business.

We would all be in a frightful position if we were to be treated by God as most of us treat one another. Christ was asked point-blank by St. Therese, the Little Flower, whether her faults displeased Him. His answer was no. What other answer was possible? Sin alone displeases God; and faults are not sins. Faults are simply failures due to the fact that we are human beings and not angels. A dish may slip from our fingers and shatter, simply because we are human. Nothing of the sort could happen to an angel.

But men are not angels. It is of paramount importance that we realize this fact, and behave accordingly. I have heard of parents whipping children because they accidentally smashed something around the house. To the Christian soul, that sort of thing is sickening. And why is it sickening? Because the Christian soul is moved by love of God and neighbor; and love does not indulge in ill-tempered injustice.

But what of those who exaggerate and over-punish not merely the mistakes and faults, but the sins -the real sins-of others? The damage that they can do to the spiritual life is incalculable. They can discourage people who are striving for holiness. They can even cause people to stop trying altogether. In that case, they run the frightful risk of being responsible, in large part, for the loss of an immortal soul.

Let the irreligious and the carping man scoff and scorn all he pleases; the fact remains that most of us achieve holiness not by soaring in a jet-like flight, but by falling and rising, falling and rising, stumbling and getting up and going on. Only a foolish person is shocked by the sins of others. The wise man knows that wounded human nature will fall. He expects it to fall. He is never surprised by its falls. He is not specially concerned over its falls; what he cares about, chiefly, is spurring others to keep on trying.

Christ carrying the cross to Calvary is a picture of the ordinary spiritual life. Spiritually, Christ could not fall; being God as well as man, He could not be like us in that. But in all else He was like us. His body, like ours, could grow weary, could collapse under a burden. But when Christ fell under His cross, He did not stay down; He struggled to His feet and went on.

The true Christian is like that in his spiritual progress. He does not run to the heights; he staggers, he weaves, he falls, he rises, he struggles, he fails, but he never gives up. Those who stand scoffing at him are like those who stood hooting at Christ walking the way of the cross. But no decent man wants to be like the hooters. The decent man wants to be like Simon of Cyrene; he wants to lift part of the burden, and encourage the burdened one to go on, and to go on going on until at last he achieves success.

Where else than in the family do we have a better right to demand that everybody be like Simon of Cyrene? If a husband and wife cannot be helpful to each other, and to their children, to whom can they be of service? If they carp and nag, if they scoff and find fault, if they exaggerate every fault and sin to the proportions of final failure, will not they destroy the spiritual life in that home, and with it the happiness that ought to be present?

It is the duty of parents to be Simons of Cyrene. Simon did not ask whether Christ was guilty or innocent. That was not his concern. His task was to help somebody who needed help. And it is likewise the task of fathers and mothers to take up the burdens of their children, to lead the way forward and upward, and always to encourage and never to discourage. Children will sometimes be guilty; but guilty or innocent, they have the right to be able to turn with confidence to their parents.

This confidence is something that parents must earn. They must earn it day in and day out, beginning with the moment when their little ones are taking their first faltering steps. Children are entitled to know from long experience that no matter how far they may fall, in no matter what depths they may become mired, they can be sure that when they turn to their parents, they will be received with understanding and sympathy, and will be helped.

The parent who thus rears his children will reap a hundred rewards, heaped up, pressed down and running over, because his children will love him, will respect him, and will almost certainly, immediately or later, try to measure up to the measure of his love for them. But the youngster who is nagged and accused and berated, whose every fault and failure is magnified from a mole hill into a mountain-or from a mountain into a mountain range-can hardly be expected to rise up and call his parents blessed. In fact, he can hardly be expected to rise at all, once he has fallen, because he has received little but hooting from those who ought to have cheered him on.

IV-JESUS MEETS HIS BLESSED MOTHER

IT IS UTTERLY impossible for any human being to come within a mile of appreciating fully the sacrifice made by

Mary when she gave her divine Son for our salvation.

God alone can understand it. We cannot, because in order to do so we would have to be as pure as Mary, as totally sinless as she, and equally capable of love. We are not.

But there is one thing that we can understand and appreciate, and that is that neither Mary nor Christ sniveled when they met while He was on His way to crucifixion.

Jesus was wounded infinitely more, and Mary immeasurably more, than any one of us possibly can be, but they did not indulge in self-pity or in recriminations against God for appointing them to carry so dreadful a burden. Christ is God, and as God He perceived clearly and completely why He was going to His death, and what incalculable good He was accomplishing. Christ is man, and as man He was intolerably laden with our sins.

But Mary is human only; and as a woman we salute her and boast of her.

In the hours of Christ’s Passion, she did indeed give mankind something of which to be proud forevermore. She is one of us, who are less than the angels; but she earned a place unthinkably higher in eternity than the place of the highest and holiest angel.

The poet who called Mary “our tainted nature’s solitary boast” was inexpressibly more right than he could possibly have realized. Not any of us can ever grasp with our minds the fullness of Mary’s nobility and dignity. No honor that we can pay to her, save only the divine honor which belongs to God alone, is too much honor. Because of her, a representative of our human race is enthroned in the highest place possible for any creature. One of our own is Queen of

Heaven, Mother of God, co-Redeemer with Christ, and co-Ruler of the everlasting kingdom.

Unless we understand something about Mary, we cannot understand much about the Passion of Christ. Christ’s physical sufferings, dreadful though they were, were small and superficial compared with his psychological and spiritual agony. If we cringe at the thought of the tortures inflicted upon Him, if our hearts ache at the sight of the beatings and piercings, then we ought to feel utterly broken in the presence of his invisible torments.

They were invisible, but they become visible to the eye of one who meditates upon Mary. For Mary’s passion was entirely psychological and spiritual; it was completely invisible, yet so terrible that had Christ’s sufferings been merely of the body and not of the soul at all, then Mary’s agony would have been an agony more frightful than His. We cannot begin to see into the depths of what Jesus sacrificed for us until we turn our minds into the heart of Mary to perceive what she endured in contributing to our redemption. It is not enough to say that Mary suffered the equivalent of death. She suffered more and worse than the equivalent of death.

Death has its bodily terrors, but the most terrible terror of death is the rending apart of a creature in his deepest depths; it is the separation of body and soul, compared with which nuclear fission is a mild and slight division. Now the agony of Mary was an agony incomparably more dreadful than the rending of a man’s being by death. What death tears apart is an arrangement of nature; and that is a frightful tearing. But it is as nothing compared with the forcible separation of total love from total love. And that was what happened when Our Lady was separated from her Son. Mary’s whole matchless being, capable of unthinkably greater love than any other creature, was utterly in love with her Son. To be separated from her Son, to see her Son reviled and wounded, was for her worse than an eternal succession of physical deaths. Indeed, it is impossible to understand how Mary’s physical heart endured the sight of the tormented Christ without physically breaking and bringing on bodily death. I personally would speculate that her heart was miraculously preserved from breaking.

However that may be, what Mary endured was of the type of what Christ endured in the Garden of Gethsemane, when

His human nature was so inexpressibly tormented by His horror of sin that He sweat blood. It does not seem to me that

Our Lady’s body, unless divinely sustained, could have survived the spiritual and psychological torture she endured in seeing her Son led to execution in unthinkable suffering. I think that God’s intervention must have been necessary to keep her from dying on the spot when she met Jesus on His way to Calvary.

We approach now the depths of this matter. For not only did Mary endure a million deaths upon millions of deaths, but she never for a moment doubted God and God’s goodness. Not for an instant did she rebel. Not even remotely did she allow her faith to be shaken. Her will never turned the tiniest fraction of an inch from her utter consecration to God and to

God’s inscrutable purposes.

In the midst of a spiritual agony which ought to have shaken the universe into chaos, she freely gave her Son for our redemption. She gave Him back to the impenetrable purposes of God from Whom He had come to her. She made, willingly, indomitably, and with a courage that makes the mind reel, the incomparably supremest sacrifice of which it is possible for any created being to be capable.

Mary gave absolutely everything, she sacrificed all, she held nothing for herself, because her all, her everything, was

Christ.

And as I said, she did not snivel. She indulged in no theatrics. Not once did she cry out that this was too much, that she could not stand it, that to ask this of her was asking more than flesh and blood could endure. There on the way to Calvary, two beings of unthinkable nobility looked into each other’s eyes and faced squarely, without the slightest retreat or deviation, the most awful duty of which it is possible to conceive.

Christ and Mary had a work to do. They had a world to save. They had a spiritual family to bring forth in unutterable anguish. Upon them fell the grinding, crushing labor of giving birth to the children of God who are to share with God His own divine life and happiness forever and forever.

That was their task, the task of Jesus and Mary; and although it meant for each of them such suffering and rending as is utterly outside the grasp of the human mind, they proceeded to it bravely, without the slightest outcry of protest. This indeed was nobility. This indeed was royalty. Christ and Mary did not shrink from, nor complain about, taking up your burden and my burden and everybody’s burden. They simply took up the burdens without question because they loved not themselves and their comforts, but God and their fellowmen. And this is what we must try to learn from them—that only the fool sees from the hiddenly merciful designs of God, which come out of His infinite love and wisdom, not for our destruction, but for our perfection and glorification.

V -SIMON OF CYRENE HELPS CARRY THE CROSS

NOW HERE IS a strange thing. Here is a bewildering thing. Here is a downright dumbfounding thing. Christ the omnipotent, He who could say to a mountain, “remove from here,” and it would remove-Christ no longer can carry His cross. Christ needs somebody to help Him to carry out His mission of salvation.

Christ is falling, Christ is fainting, Christ is failing. Christ needs an assistant; Christ the rescuer of all mankind needs rescuing. And in this moment of shattering drama, does God send an angel, or a prophet, a flaming personality such as John the Baptist? No, God sends a man of whom nobody ever has heard. God selects a chance passerby to lift Christ’s burden and to walk beside Christ on the way to Golgotha.

What mystery is this, that the most ordinary and casual onlooker is lifted to immortality, is chosen to lend his strength to the All-Powerful One when the All-Powerful One is helpless? Cannot the divine Christ, the healer of lepers, the giver of sight to the blind, the restorer of life to the lifeless, cannot He finish his work unless he is assisted by this Simon of Cyrene who has blundered onto the scene, and who, we may guess, has small taste for carrying crosses for condemned criminals?

Mystery it is indeed; mystery of mysteries. It is as mysterious, th is incident, as St. Paul’s remark about filling up in his own body what is wanting in the passion of Christ. What can possibly be wanting in the passion of Christ? Although we know that God could have repaired fallen human nature by a simple act of His Will, yet He demands for our personal salvation an act of our will, a cooperation with His grace.

This is the mystery of human freedom, without which man is not really man at all. Man to be man must be able to make choices. Man to be what he is, the image and likeness of God, must distinguish between good and evil, and choose good. How else is man to have any dignity? How else is man to be like unto God? How else is man to be happy-for does not happiness consist in the knowledge that one has done the good that one ought to do, and avoided the evil that one ought to avoid? How can man share forever in the happiness of God unless he has identified himself with that happiness by freely choosing God and God’s way?

It is like asking whether any of us can enjoy the beauty of a sunset without ever having gazed upon a sunset, or the lilting joy of symphony music without having listened to it. What the conductor of an orchestra feels, we cannot feel without sharing, according to our capacity, in his experience. We cannot have any of his happiness in music without ourselves entering into music. Neither can we enter into God’s eternal joy without choosing for ourselves the cause of that joy, which is God’s goodness.

There are those who blindly complain about this; who would prefer that God force His happiness upon them without their doing anything to make themselves capable of it. But this is impossible. As well might we ask that we know the joys of love while refusing to love; or the pleasure of knowledge while declining to learn. If you do not know a single word of English, and resolutely refrain from acquiring any English, it would be foolish of you to complain because you cannot enter into the joy of reading Shakespeare in his own tongue. You are simply incapable, through your own choice, of sharing in the experience and the insights of Shakespeare.

Thus it is with God and man. Christ has opened the door; Christ has led the way; Christ has given us all the means for fitting ourselves for the happiness of heaven. But if we turn our backs, if we walk the other direction, if we reject the means, then we shall find that with respect to God’s happiness, we are like blind men trying to enjoy the sight of flowers, we are like the deaf wanting to listen to music, we are like paralyzed persons longing for dancing and the poetry of movement. We must do our part. We must lift a burden as Simon lifted; we must walk with Christ as Simon walked. We must fill up in ourselves, as St. Paul filled up, what is wanting of the passion of Christ.

The point is that what is wanting in the passion of Christ is my little bit, and your little bit. In one sense, Christ climbed alone to Calvary. In another sense, He climbed in the midst of a countless multitude of other climbers, each carrying his own little cross, his own little duty, his own contribution to the unselfish immolation of love. The passion of Christ took place at a certain time and in a certain place; but it extends backward to Adam and Eve, and forward to the last man and woman.

What we ou ght to see when we contemplate Christ’s sacrifice is not the sacrifice of Christ alone, but the sacrifice of Christ expanded into countless other hearts and souls. This is the meaning of the Mystical Body of Christ; this is the meaning of the Church. The Church is Christ saving all of us by enlisting our willing cooperation. The Church is Christ and you and I and a vast concourse of others, indomitably struggling upward and onward toward the death that is the opening into life everlasting. Every last one of us is, or ought to be, a Simon of Cyrene, walking through life with Christ, enduring bravely life’s vicissitudes and keeping our eyes always on the goal until it is achieved.

Unless the Simons do their part, the Simons cannot accomplish what Christ gave them the power to accomplish. All this is a mystery, and yet it ought to be as plain as a pikestaff.

Let us express it in this manner-the confessionals are always open, and guilt can be blotted out of our souls in an instant, but not if we will not enter the confessional. And even if we enter the confessional, nothing is accomplished without contrition. Nobody else can be contrite for us; we ourselves must turn from evil to embrace good. The instant we do that, we become capable of the life of God which is the life of love and goodness; we begin, in fact, to share God’s supernatural life on earth. We have a foretaste of eternal joys; we enter into an anteroom to heaven.

But as long as evil is what a man loves, then what he loves is not goodness, and he cannot know the happiness that comes of goodness embraced. To make a homely comparison, if I cannot abide the taste of olives, then olives cannot give me pleasure. If I want the pleasure that olives give, I must change. And if I am to share the happiness of God, then I must fit myself to be happy by God’s happiness; I must become like God. I must determine to be a Simon of Cyrene who will be ready to walk with Christ and not to turn away from Christ.

Simon might have been a lover of comfort who would have so weakened his body with self-indulgence and luxury as to have been incapable of lifting the weight of Christ’s cross. He was fit for Christ, when the test came, because his muscles were strong, and his soul willing. To each of us comes our moments of Simon-likeness, when we are called upon to do our bit in sharing the passion of Christ which leads to resurrection and glorification with Christ. It is our duty and our high privilege to be always prepared.

VI -VERONICA WIPES THE FACE OF JESUS

WHAT HAPPENED to Veronica’s Veil was simply an outward expression of what happened in Veronica’s soul. Unless we understand this, we understand nothing about the spiritual life.

Christ sometimes chided the multitudes because they came to see signs and wonders, and not to learn from Him the way of holiness.

In Christ’s words at such times, we hear a note that can only be called a holy impatience.

He seems to cry out against the blindness of people who cannot seem to see the point of His coming; who are moved by curiosity and excitement, or by a desire for physical healing, or by the hope of having favored positions in a new earthly kingdom-but not by the thirst for truth and goodness.

If we were Veronicas, we would not be running about looking for miracles. We would be looking for opportunities to serve Christ rather than being served by Christ.

If we were Veronicas, we would be able to see the divine behind the human; we would know Christ under all the layers of the world’s sorrow and suffering.

If we were Veronicas, we would not need Lourdes and Fatima; we would need only the knowledge that somebody was in need, and that we serve God by serving fellowmen for the sake of God.

Veronica, when she approached Christ, could not have expected, or even wanted, a miracle.

What she saw was a man condemned as a criminal and being led to execution.

What she saw also was an opportunity to do a kindness out of the charity of a heart that kept the two great commandments-love God, and love fellowmen.

Veronica saw a man who was a sight to make one turn away one’s eyes.

She saw a man whose flesh had been scourged to ribbons. Upon his head a crown of great thorns had been pressed, so that his hair and face were a mass of dried blood. He had been spat upon and struck with fists. From head to foot he was bloody and bruised; swollen and black and blue. He was a dreadful spectacle.

We may be sure that it took an effort of the will for Veronica to come forward to him and to cleanse his face. Not only was he a repellent sight, but by approaching him in pity she accepted for herself something of the contempt and hatred that was being heaped upon him.

It is likely that people screamed maledictions and taunts at her. No matter; Veronica’s soul was a soul that loved.

It was a grace-filled soul; a soul into which Christ could look and see His own reflection, the image and likeness of God.

And so Christ, for a testimony of His own divine power and of Veronica’s goodness, impressed upon Veronica’s cloth the image of His face.

But He did not chide her for seeking signs and wonders. She did not seek signs and wonders; she sought ways and means of serving God, of serving Christ in His fellowmen, of earning the right to hear eventually from Him the words, “If you did it to one of these, My least brethren, you did it to me.”

We are all tempted to go seeking signs and wonders rather than to see the signs and wonders that are all around us.

We kneel in church, perhaps, while making the Stations of the Cross, and we wish that we could have been Veronica- that we could have wiped the face of Christ, and seen His face imprinted on the cloth.

Then we go home and never think that the face of Christ is all around us, waiting to be cleansed of its blood and sweat and tears.

The face of Christ is there in the lines on the countenance of Grandpa or Grandma. It is there in the weariness of wife or husband. It is there in the tears of a child over some little mishap. It is next door in the troubles of a neighbor.

The face of Christ is a millioned face. In every human being on earth, it waits for our touch of comfort and encouragement.

A husband is a Veronica when he helps his wife with the dishes, or brings her some token of his affection, or takes her out to dinner, or tells her of his love as he used to tell her in the days of courtship.

A wife is a Veronica when she smiles away her husband’s discouragement over his job or his business; when she lifts his spirits with a word of admiration; when she renews his youth by her devotion.

Fathers and mothers are Veronicas when they kiss away the tears of children; when they quiet their fears about their school work; when they help them with their little concerns; when they praise their small accomplishments, filling them with new confidence.

We are Veronicas when we go next door or into a house down the street to offer our services in times of tribulation. We are Veronicas when we spend some time with lonely aging folk.

The earth is brimful of Christ hiding behind the faces of the worried, the hungry, the sorrowful, the doubtful, the uninstructed. Wherever there is need, there is Christ, waiting for the touch of our Veronica-cloth of kindness on His face.

And each time we touch Him so, His image and likeness grows brighter and clearer in our own souls. It can grow so bright and clear that when the Eternal Father looks upon us, He sees in us His only-begotten Son. And Mary, too, sees her Son in us, as she saw His image on Veronica’s Veil.

Signs and wonders? Is it not a sign and a wonder that with a word and a smile we can lift the soul of another out of sorrow into joy, out of unhappiness into happiness, out of discouragement into hope?

Is it not a sign and a wonder that with the cloth of our unselfish concern, we can smooth away the lines of fear or pain from the face of Christ in one of Christ’s fellowmen? Is it not a sign and a wonder that we can turn the sobbing of a child into laughter?

In the persons of each of His fellowmen, Christ will be carrying His cross as long as the human race endures. There will never be a day or a place in which He cannot be found, His face seamed with suffering or anxiety, and wet with blood or tears, in the face of one of those for whom He suffered.

There is no moment when any one of us cannot be a Veronica. We could be Veronicas even in the solitude of a desert; for although we were isolated from our fellowmen, we could with our prayers come to their assistance, whether they were here on earth, or suffering in Purgatory.

To be a Veronica is the high privilege of every last one of us.

VII-JESUS FALLS THE SECOND TIME

THE SECOND FALL is the fall that brings the temptation of discouragement. But giving up is the one thing above all things that nobody must ever consider doing.

You might almost call a Christian the man who never gives up. You might almost say that Christianity is the religion of not giving up, the faith which emboldens one to go on. Christians can do all kinds of things that they shouldn’t, but the sin from which they flee as from the mouth of hell itself is the sin of throwing in the sponge.

You can’t very well lie down and quit when the One you are following is Christ. He fell, but He got up. And never was any body wearier and more tormented than His.

He had sweat blood in the garden because His soul was so wracked by horror of sin that He was sorrowful even unto death. He had not slept, not even for the hour that His followers slumbered.

He had been set upon by a band armed with clubs and weapons as if they came for a robber. He had been bound and dragged before the High Priest. He had been buffeted by the servant. He had stood his “trial” before the Sanhedrin.

It was much the same kind of “trial” which we were to see undergone twenty centuries later, by followers of Christ like Joseph Cardinal Mindszenty and Aloysius Cardinal Stepinac.

There were false witnesses. There was a brushing aside of the rights of the prisoner. There was Christ’s calm attempt to make these men see that they were doing wrong-if He had done evil, then let evidence of the evil be brought; if not, why did they strike Him?

He stood there bound while the interminable farce went on, with everybody against Him, and nobody showing the slightest disposition to be fair. And finally the High Priest cut through the double-talk and got right to the point: “I adjure thee by the living God that thou tell us whether thou art the Christ, the Son of God.”

Now Christ in all his intolerable exhaustion lifted His head and looked the High Priest in the eye, and answered yes. But in order that there be no possibility of doubt about His meaning, He uttered His solemn warning that He would come later in the clouds of heaven, with great power and majesty, to judge all men-including those who were condemning Him.

This is the Christ Whom we follow; how can a follower of His yield to discouragement; how can anyone despair in whom Christ has come to take up His abode?

Yes, His body was weary unto death, and His soul, sorrowful; but God does not give up, God is all-powerful; God goes on. And the blessed God lives in us by baptism and confirmation and Communion; we are not our own, but Christ’s; we do not live alone, but Christ lives in us. And Christ cannot quit, Christ cannot, will not yield to discouragement.

From the presence of the High Priest He was taken to Pilate while the mob yelled for His blood. Then to Herod, and back to Pilate. And now He was handed over to the torturers to do their fiendish best to break His strength, to break His mind, to break His will.

Hunger and thirst bore down upon Him. Scourging rent His flesh and shed His blood in streams. Thorns pierced His head until it is a wonder that He was not driven mad. And the cross was put upon His back and He was led forth between the howling multitudes.

He fell and fell again, but He got up. And the Christian never stops getting up. The Christian tries and tries and will not stop trying, no matter what burdens weigh upon him, no matter what obstacles are piled in his path, no matter what suffering tears at his vitals.

The Christian in the laboratory fails and fails again, but in the end he discovers the vaccine or the serum that will heal his fellowmen. The Christian in government is back-bitten and slandered; but he goes on for the good of his country.

The Christian father or mother, when the children are ill, is so worn for want of sleep that the head swims; but the Christian parent gets out of bed once more, and another time, and another time, and will not give up.

The Christian caught in the habit of sin struggles loose and is caught again; strives upward and is dragged down; confesses and straightway falls into the same evil; but the one thing that the Christian will not do is to throw up his hands. He will not surrender to the devil or to his human weakness; he will fight on to victory if it takes him every hour of his life and into his deathbed.

If we have faith, said Christ, we can say to this mountain, remove from here, and it will remove. And in the centuries since He walked among us, we have moved so many mountains that we have forgotten nine-tenths of them.

We overthrew the Roman rottenness and persecution; we took the shock of the barbarian invasions and converted the invaders; we turned back the hordes of Mohammedans and the dreadful armies of Atilla the Hun. We broke the power of tyrant after tyrant who tried to chain the Church to his chariot.

We moved the mountain of slavery and overthrew it. We overcame a thousand powerful heresies. We broke the despotic power of men over women, and restored womanhood to the high estate in which it belonged.

The earth, when Christ came into it, was one mountain range after another of disease and despotism and injustice and cruelty and lust. And the mountains fell one after another because Christian men and women, whatever their other faults, refused to do the one thing that means defeat-to give up. Time after time, the Christians, like Christ, were crushed to earth, but always, like Christ, they got up again and struggled on.

They spread through the world enlightening the ignorant, feeding the hungry, clothing the naked, healing the sick, comforting the afflicted, bringing hope to the hopeless; and everywhere their touch, slowly but with indomitable sureness, transformed the world.

How could it be otherwise, when they could say, these Christians, with St. Paul, “Now not I live, but Christ lives in me,” and with St. Patrick, “Christ before me, Christ above me, Christ beside me, Christ in me”? It could not be otherwise, the follower of Christ cannot quit The follower of Christ cannot quit though his soul be sick, though his mind be burdened beyond endurance, though his body be tormented by illness or injury, though his family be scattered, though his business be ruined, though his friends play him false, though the devil himself seems to conspire against him. Who can give up, who can yield to discouragement or despair, when he sees Christ struggling that last hundred yards, that last yard, in order that He might hang upon the cross for our salvation? No; the Christian can fall, but the Christian just won’t lie there and surrender. Not the Christian!

VIII-JESUS SPEAKS TO THE WOMEN OF JERUSALEM

THERE IS A paradoxical sense in which we owe love and compassion to those outside the Church -and above all to the Jews-even more than to those within.

They need it more.

It is impossible, really, for the Christian to imagine what a dreadful burden it is not to have the Faith.

Within the Church there is laughter like the laughter of children secure in their home and in the love of Father and Mother.

Indeed, the Church is a happy family with God for Father and Christ for Brother and Mary for Mother; and with Joseph and all the angels and saints for good companions.

Outside that family, there is not the same kind of joy. Within it, we live in a kind of anteroom of heaven; we might well say that already we are beginning to know something of the joys that eye hath not seen, ear hath not heard, neither hath it entered into the mind of man.

In the voice of Christ there was sorrow and pity rather than reproach when He spoke to the women of Jerusalem: “Weep not for Me, but rather weep for yourselves and your children.”

These women and their descendants were destined to bear through the centuries the cross of not having the Faith.

It is a crushing cross.

There is a mystery here; a deep, deep mystery.

It is akin to the mystery expressed in the liturgy when the Church refers to Adam’s fall as a happy fault because it brought so great a Redeemer.

St. Paul touches briefly on the matter by saying that a darkness was permitted to fall upon Israel until the fullness of the Gentiles should come in, so that in the end all might be saved.

The Jews bear their burden of exile not alone for themselves, but also for us.

Contemplation of this tragedy nearly stops the heart.

Here were the chosen people who through thousands of years had borne the back-breaking burden of the true God amid hordes of idolators and pagans.

They had borne it with a patience that makes the mind reel. They fell, but always they rose again. They went backward, but always they turned forward once more, whiplashed by the uncompromising words of prophets sent by God.

They were chosen in the sense that they were selected for the sorrow and suffering of bearing witness to eternal divine truth, justice and goodness in a world given over to deadening and groveling wickedness.

Through the ages they struggled, suffering in mind and body as no other people ever had suffered.

Through the ages they prayed, tearing their garments in the deserts and on the mountains, crying out to the skies to rain down the Just One.

Through the ages they waited and waited for the Messias, the King, the Deliverer, the Holy One, the Leader and Ruler who would restore the sceptre to Israel.

They thirsted and hungered, did the Jews; they were oppressed and tortured and put to death; they were enslaved and broke free again; they were despised and hated as the world will forever hate those who remind it of God and of the dignity of man, and of man’s duties.

The Jews did not suffer alone for themselves; they suffered for us because out of their loins and out of their sorrows was to be born the Savior whose salvation has come upon us.

Through endless generations the Jews endured all things, hungering with a terrible hunger for the Holy One; and when He came, their leaders did not accept Him, and would not let them accept Him.

What a mystery! What a tragedy! “Weep not for Me, but weep rather for yourselves and your children.”

The saga of Jewish suffering was not ending; it was to continue-for how long nobody knows.

From their ranks came first the Twelve, and then the three thousand converted by Peter, and others, to enter into the kingdom, to reap the redemption sowed through so many endless years of sorrow.

But for most of them, the darkness remained darkness, and they went on into further centuries, groping through it.

Indeed we do owe them compassion and love.

They gave us Christ and Mary and Joseph; they gave us the Apostles and the first disciples and the first martyrs.

Through the Jews we received the joys-the inexpressible joys-of the Sacraments, and of the unspeakable union with Christ which St. Paul tried to put into words by saying, “Now not I live, but Christ lives in me.”

Through the Jews we received the Faith; and if we do not know that the Faith is priceless, is to be treasured above everything else under heaven, then we are fools.

What a mountainous debt we owe the Jews!-what a debt of gratitude and compassion!

The women of Jerusalem wept, and their children weep to this day. Without the Faith, without Christ, this is a weary world, and weary is every day that a man lives in it.

Sad, sad, sad is life without Christ.

Life without Christ is a kind of wilderness in which people wander bewildered, reaching out groping hands and finding no hand to grasp.

What a burden is sin-what a crushing burden-without the Sacrament of Penance which lifts it gently from our hearts and sends us forth as new as if we had but that moment been born.

What burdens upon burdens are the marching days, without Mass, without Communion, without Christ.

But what joys the days are when they are lived with Christ; when we move forward with Him, arm in arm, heart to heart, toward eternal triumph.

How good to know the goal toward which we advance, to see it before us, to walk with the strength of Christ forward and upward.

What a splendor it is to sing through life with St. Francis, because it is not we who live, but Christ in us; Christ directing us, moving us, nourishing us, inspiring us.

What a joy to bubble with laughter like the laughter of children because we are the children of God, and are living in His House.

“Weep not for Me.” Weep not for Christ; Christ is doing the will of His Father Who sent Him; Christ is advancing to His glory. Weep only for sin and for the sorrows of those who know not Christ; because to know Christ is happiness, and not to know Him, not to do His will, not live in Him and for Him and with Him, is the only unrelieved sadness on earth.

IX -JESUS FALLS THE THIRD TIME

NOW FOR THE third time there is driven home to us the lesson of the weakness of man which is the adopted weakness of Christ. Christ falls again; and it is physical exhaustion due to physical suffering which makes him do so. But the physical suffering is but the materialization of sin. Christ’s agony makes visible to our eyes, and touchable to our touch, and imaginable to our imagination, the effects of sin on our souls. Christ is God incarnate; but we might say that Christ’s sufferings are the incarnation of our rebellion against God our Father. It is the making-flesh of our refusal to be good sons and daughters.

The weight of our treason, our ingratitude, our selfishness weigh Christ to the ground. We must understand that there is a familyness about God and man. How God has striven to make us see this! The relationship is not merely one of Creator and creatures. It is more than a relationship; God and we are relatives-the closest possible relatives. He is Father; I am a son. If any one ought to be able to understand what this means, fathers and mothers ought to. Fathers and Mothers know how their hearts, the moment they become parents, are placed in custody of their children, to be cherished or not cherished; to be treasured or to be broken.

A father (or a mother) has as many hearts as there are children. Each child is another opening into love; an opening through which there can enter either joy or sorrow, comfort or suffering. A child can lift a parent to the heights of happiness, or bow him to the earth in crushing misery. And if this can be done by the little love of a man for his son and of a son for his father, what of the love of God for man, which is boundless, unthinkably limitless?

This love of God for man is a mystery which we can penetrate only a little way; but the fact is that by His own decision, dictated by His love, God the all-powerful assumed human nature. Christ suffered in His human nature for us; that nature which He as God assumed out of love for us. And He did so because He desires to be not only Our Creator, but our Father; because He wants not only our obedience, but our love.

When this love is withheld, when we refuse it to Him, that is what scourges Him; that is what crowns Him with thorns; that is what buffets Him with fists and with insults; that is what bows Him down. It is under our withholding of love that Christ falls-once, twice, thrice. This is the weight that is too heavy for Him; this is what breaks the Heart He has given into our keeping.

And if a father and a mother and their children cannot understand this, who shall understand it? Do not they have daily experience of how their hearts are given to one another, and of how so much as a harsh word hurts? Do not they share one another’s weaknesses, and by sharing them turn them into strength? Have they not learned how love can turn a home into a little heaven, and how the lack of it can turn a home into a little hell?

If families cannot appreciate the familyness of God and man, then who can appreciate it? God and man emphatically are a family. God as God is the father of each of us and all of us; and God as Christ is our Brother. By His life and His death even as man He earned all our love and our gratitude; they were due to Him always as God.

And yet we sin and press Him to the ground time and again. We sin through our own weakness, and we sin through our impatience and our uncharity toward the weakness of others. We fall, and we cry out for mercy; we excuse ourselves, we point to our own weakness. But others fall, and we berate them. We stand above Christ’s fallen brethren and pour scorn and reproaches upon them. Far from extending a helping hand, we consider that we are doing well if we refrain from kicking them. And if we do so to Christ’s least brethren, we do so to Christ.

How poignantly does the prostrate figure of Christ on the way to Calvary plead for love, for sympathy, for understanding, for a word of encouragement, for a sign of loyalty! But in each of His fallen brothers and sisters, Christ again is fallen. Christ in them will go on falling to the end of time. In them He will continue to beg that we put ourselves in their place; that we share their burdens and their sufferings. If we refuse, if what we give instead is hardness and coldness, then mistake it not; that is what we would have given Christ had we stood looking down upon Him fallen to the stones on the road to Golgotha.

Parents meditating upon Christ fallen can meditate most richly by seeing in Christ their own children, and in their own children Christ. This is Christ who lies there crushed, beaten, exhausted; but this also is my son or my daughter. If Christ the perfect man who was incarnate God and not weighed down by original sin-if He could come to the end of His strength, if He could stumble and fall, then by what aberration, what insanity, do I expect unbroken success of my children? If I would not howl at Christ for having fallen, then why do I howl at my children when they fail?

No; love does not do these things. We are not speaking of emotional love, but of true love which is an act of the will. That act of the will puts one on the side of the loved one; it pledges loyalty and devotion through every vicissitude. It says to the child, “You are mine and I am yours, and you can depend upon me every time. I am yours, and you can depend upon me every time. I will be there when you need me, and never will I desert you. I will snatch you if necessary from the very mouth of hell.”

That is what Christ did for every one of us; snatched us from the mouth of hell. We can, if we are determined to do so, turn our backs on Him and reject His rescue. We can negate His victory for ourselves. That is the mystery of free will, which can choose to love or not to love, to serve or not to serve, to be grateful or ungrateful, loyal or disloyal, friend or visitor. But if a father cannot do that to his own son, or a mother to her own daughter, how can they do it to Christ fallen for them on Calvary?

It is God who lies there in the self-imposed weakness of the Incarnation. But it is we also who lie there with Him, for His weakness is made of our weakness. Christ lies there, and we lie there, and our children lie there; and that is the meaning of Christ’s fall. The still fuller meaning is this: Christ got up and went on again to victory, and with Him we go also unless we reject Him and His redemption of us.

X -JESUS IS STRIPPED OF HIS GARMENTS

LITTLE BY LITTLE, family life strips a husband and wife of all kinds of things that weight them down and slow them in their progress toward endless happiness. It strips them of pride; who can be anything but prostrate in humility and helplessness while a baby is being born into the world? In those anxious hours we learn rapidly how utterly dependent we are upon God. We realize profoundly what we have always known but have not really grasped-that He alone has power to give life. We understand His overlordship of everything, and perhaps for the first time we pray with all our hearts and all our strength.

Family life strips us gradually, too, of selfishness. Bit by bit, the willingness to serve replaces the desire to be served. There is a strange power in an infant’s powerlessness; only a monster can refuse to tend a little one who depends upon his parents for absolutely every need.

Family life turns the mind from irresponsibility to responsibility. And it opens the eyes of husband and wife to the enormous folly of sin. How enlightening is the process of trying to teach children the goodness which we ourselves once dismissed as old-fashioned!

Our youthful flippancy is stripped from us. Now we know why there are laws God’s laws, nature’s laws, human laws. Solicitous for the good of our children, we understand suddenly God’s solicitude for our good. We know now that His commandments are not arbitrary or capricious; they are directions for our protection from grievous harm. They are like our commandments to our children-do not cross the street without looking both ways; do not touch poison; do not play with sharp knives; do not get into an automobile with strangers.

“Do not get into an automobile with strangers!” How often we were warned by priests and parents, when we were adolescents, about avoiding bad company! But we thought they were old fogies; we were perfectly capable, we said, of taking care of ourselves. But now we caution our children as we were cautioned; now we know that laws and rules are made by those who love us, in a constant effort to keep us from evil and injury and suffering.

Our smart-aleckry is being stripped away from us. Our conceits are torn from us, and as they go one by one, we realize that they were tapes binding us hand and foot. How we clung to them! We thought they were part of what we called our liberty, but all the time they were holding us in slavery. And when we see them in our children, we recognize them for what they truly are.

Living in the family, we begin to see that the soul, like the body, is vulnerable to injury. We perceive how sin and selfcenteredness and vanity wreck the soul’s beauty as an accident can destroy the loveliness of a face, or the grace and mobility of a body. Follies of all kinds are being stripped from us; we are being made ready for the kind of death, when death comes, that is but the last great birth-pain of joy everlasting.

Garments of foolishness, of opinionated obstinacy, are being stripped from us one by one. And at last we come to understand something of the sacramentalism of marriage, the sacramentalism of family life. This is the vocation for which we were ordained in the Sacrament of Matrimony, this life with each other and with our children. This is the way of life in which we are to attain holiness; this is our salvation.

Now we can look upon each other, husband and wife, as far more than mere companions and mutual comforts. Why, we are co-saviors with Christ of each other! In the Sacrament we were united spiritually as well as physically, to the end that we should help each other, and help Our children, to God. In heaven we shall-or we should-owe much of -our salvation to each other. We are together not to hamper each other on the way to everlasting life, but to walk toward it hand in hand, and to draw our little ones with us.

In a certain sense we are as priests. We are the first to wear God’s own most beloved name, “Father.” We are not merely to bring forth children physically; we are to help bring them forth spiritually, too. Priests are called “Father” because they are ordained for the work of giving life in the supernatural order. But the title came to them from natural fathers; and from the cooperation of natural fathers with the Fatherhood of God came the nobility of the word “Father” on earth.

Now more and more of our blindness, our graspingness, our self-seeking, our self-love, is being stripped from us. More and more clearly do we see the sublimity of marriage and family life. Each bond that is tom from us sets us freer to walk forward in the grace that comes through the Sacrament of Matrimony. We are turning heavenward, and we want our family to turn heavenward with us. Now we rejoice if the children give us spiritual bouquets for our birthdays, instead of shaving kits or smoking jackets. Now our ambitions for our children become less and less worldly, and more and more other-worldly.

No longer do we desire that our children shall marry into wealth or position or power. What we want now is to see them, when their courting days come, meeting young men and young women who are good. Our minds have risen from short-lived earthly things to the incorruptible things of heaven. What we now desire is that our children shall marry others who will help them to salvation, or even better, that they shall enter the religious life.

Our hopes and our prayers are taking a new turn because we have been stripped of the things that were holding us down to earth. It is not that we are no longer conscious of the importance of reasonable success in earthly occupations. It is rather that now we realize that such success is not an end, but a means to an end.

We do indeed desire that our children, if they enter an occupation or a profession, and if they marry, make a success of their chosen field and of their way of life. But now we see that what is everlastingly important is that they use such successes for the glory of God and the salvation of souls. And if they elect the highest vocation-the life of total consecration to the things of God-then we are happy and proud and grateful.

Now the husband and the wife see each other with new eyes. In the beginning, perhaps they were attracted largely by physical beauty, by winning personality, by the capacity for happy companionship and shared entertainment. But now what they see in each other, chiefly, is goodness; and in that they find such joy as they did not previously dream of. Now they are indeed ready to live together happily ever after.

XI-JESUS IS NAILED TO THE CROSS

IT IS A FRUITFUL meditation for a parent to think of his own son or daughter nailed to the cross. This does not mean that my child is substituted for Christ, but that through my child-through my love for my child-I am brought closer to Christ.

We parents must learn that it is not our vocation-as it is the vocation of some few-to go to God by forsaking others. Our vocation is to go to God through the embracing of others. From love of those who are ours, we are to deepen our love of Him Whose we are.

Christian marriage does not mean that a husband and wife love each other with one love, and Christ with another love. They are to love Christ and each other with the same love, and indeed with the same kind of love. There are not really various sorts of love; if we know what love is, there is one love only.

Love is not the physical embracing of another. The embracing is, or ought to be, an expression of love; and if it is not that, then it is not what it ought to be. If a husband and wife do not love each other in God, and in accordance with God’s rights over us, then what they feel for each other is not truly love at all.

To love (let us mark it well) is to desire the good of the beloved, and to endeavor to bring that good to pass. But the beloved’s truest good is to live in the friendship of God; in oneness with Christ. Christian marriage, then, is a state of life in which two who truly love each other, in the true meaning of love, assist each other to love Him by obedience to Him.

For the husband, then, the wife is a door into holiness; she is a way to God; and for his wife, the husband is a path to sanctity. In the Sacrament of Matrimony, husband and wife are to cooperate with Christ in each other’s sanctification. Why else, pray, did Christ raise marriage to the dignity of a sacrament; why else did he make it one of the channels through which He pleases to dispense His divine grace?

This is not to destroy, nor to whittle away, the bodily aspects of life together in marriage. To the contrary; the joy of the coming together of husband and wife cannot be as great and as unalloyed as it ought to be unless consciences are clear. If there is anything of spiritual reproach in married love, their married love will not give the happiness it ought to give. Nor will it confer the unity it is intended to confer-the unity, the peace, the harmony, the serenity which ought to be its fruits.

This harmony and serenity of husband and wife are the deepest foundation for the happiness of the family. How many, many children live in a deep unease, rebelling against what they know not, because their father and mother are not united in Christ, or at least imagine that they are not united in Christ!

“Imagine that they are not united in Christ.” This is a real and painful condition in our day of the opposite errors of puritanism and hedonism. Many a husband and wife are prevented, either by prudery or by the prevailing over-emphasis upon sex, from finding in marriage the joy and the security-in-God that this great sacrament was instituted to give them.

Either they enter into their giving of each other with consciences stricken by rigorism, or they expect more of their giving than even this great giving can give. In the one case, they feel guilty; in the other, they feel cheated. No; the Christian husband and wife must acquire the Christian attitude of mind toward marriage, if they are to find in marriage the depths of joy and goodness which they ought to find there.

Marriage, the Sacrament of Matrimony, is first a union of souls. Husband and wife love each other; not in the modern mistaken meaning of being “in love,” but in the right meaning that they are prepared to serve each other, to defend each other, to sacrifice for each other, to work together in mutual well-wishing for success in marriage. Out of the union of souls, out of this true love of each other, comes the union of bodies; and each union contributes constantly to the perfecting and deepening of the other.

Husband and wife must understand that Matrimony, like the other sacraments, was earned for us by Christ on the cross. It was not a niggling and fearful thing that He wished to confer upon us-and did confer. No; Christ desires that marriage shall be generous, and that husband and wife understand that their mutual giving is good and pleasing to Him. He wants husband and wife to see each other as pathways to Him; He wants them walking hand in hand, and heart in heart, toward Him.

If we are to see Christ in the least of His brethren, are we not to see Him in our own husbands and wives? Indeed, it is in our husbands and wives, in the Sacrament of Matrimony, that we ought to see Christ most clearly and intimately.

Marriage is its own vocation, and into it we are to throw ourselves with the same kind of dedication and selfabandonment that we expect of a priest in his vocation.

For the husband, his wife and children are Christ most closely and immediately. Wife and children are his vocation; his way to holiness. It is a lesser vocation than the religious vocation, in the same sense that a man is a little less than an angel. But this does not mean that a man is not a marvelous being; and it does not mean that marriage is not a marvelous vocation. And as a man or woman, in the order of grace, can rise higher than an angel, so can a husband and wife rise higher, in the order of grace-in the Sacrament of Matrimony-than this or that priest or Sister in another vocation.

We are not to be comparing our way of life, we wives and husbands, with the way of life of those in religion. We are not to be comparing our way of life with any other way. Our task is to devote ourselves to our Own way wholeheartedly, with full trust in God’s grace and providence, and with the fullest possible realization of the sublimity of our own vocation.

Nobody, really, goes directly to God. Everybody must go through certain channels and in some service to fellowmen. The way to God for husband and wife is through each other and their children, and in love of them and service to them. That is why it is a fruitful meditation to think of one’s own son or daughter on the cross.

Our sons and daughters are given to us in order that we may help them to salvation, and they us. A parent thinking of one of his children on the cross can come closer to Christ, can understand much more of what Christ suffered for us, can be more intimately united with Christ in His Passion. And certainly the parent can better understand, while thinking of his own child crucified, what Mary sacrificed for us.

In this kind of meditation, parents can find the true wisdom of marriage and the family. Making the Way of the Cross, and thinking of their beloved own children, they can more clearly and poignantly think of Christ, and love Christ and thank Him for His goodness.

Then, returning home, a husband can look upon his wife and children, or a wife upon her husband and children, and see Christ in them, and grasp something of the nobility and the deep goodness of Christian marriage and family life.

XII—JESUS DIES ON THE CROSS

THE HARSH WORD you spoke to your wife . . . the nagging you inflicted on your husband . . . the feud you had with your neighbor . . . the impatient blow you struck one of your children, or the loveless punishment to which you subjected him because he did something that annoyed you. . . .

These are among the things for which Christ died, and for which Mary, in intolerable anguish, watched Him die. These things are not the least of the things that scourged Him and crowned Him with thorns, and hung Him on the Cross. They are not the least of the things that condemned Our Lady to stand helpless before Him, unable to ease His pain, to comfort His heart, to wipe away the blood from His face that His nailed hands could not touch.

Oh, we are angry, and rightly angry, over the inhumanities, the abominations, inflicted upon men and women and children, and upon the cardinals and bishops and priests of Christ, by the Stalins and the Hitlers and the Titos. But usually there is nothing that we can directly do to stop that sort of thing. It is not so with the inhumanities that we commit against those nearest to us-our own fathers and mothers, our own wives and husbands, our own children and neighbors. Those inhumanities, we can do something about. We can stop them.

We complain, too, about the attacks of anti-Catholics upon the Church—the lies they tell about her, the preposterous charges they voice, the calumnies and slanders and insinuations they publish. Sometimes we can do something to correct such situations, and sometimes we can’t. But always we can do something about our own coldness to Christ. And cold we are. Cold!

Each day the Church offers us the Mass; offers us the opportunity to join with Mary and Joseph, with the angels and saints, in adoring and thanking Christ as He immolates Himself again for us. Are we there? How few are present in the parish church each morning! How few families are represented by even one member! And why are we not represented? Because we are slothful. Just plain slothful.

Sloth is that insidious, that sneaking, that small and mean and cheap weakness which counsels us to be careless and indolent about spiritual things. Sloth whispers to us that we need our sleep; that we are too tired to rise twenty or thirty minutes earlier in the morning in order to be at Mass. What a thieving and lying thing is sloth, and how it deludes us into depriving ourselves, through our own fault, of riches beyond the wildest power of words to describe!

Each day the Church offers Communion to us; offers Christ Himself to be the invigoration and the sanctification of our souls, the enlightenment of our minds-indeed, even the protection of our bodies, our families, our homes and our country. But sloth, that miserable thing, makes fools of us and leaves us lying abed, missing the greatest things that life can give to us.

We ask ourselves, when we stop to think, why did I quarrel with my wife or husband? Why was I short-tempered, even mean, perhaps even cruel, with the children? Why did I fall into this sin or that sin? Why am I so petty, so uncharitable, so quick to pride and anger and vanity? Why do I complain about everything, and appreciate almost nothing?

Why am I unhappy? Why do I not walk through life singing and smiling, uplifted by the beauty of things? Why am I short and surly with the woman I love and the children I love-with the very persons who, if they were dead before me, my heart would be broken, my life would be desolated?

Why, why, why? The answer is immediately at hand. The answer is our failure, through laziness and self-indulgence, to take advantage of the sources of grace that would transform our souls into shining things, that would open our minds and hearts to the nobility of existence.

The Mass is there, Holy Communion is there, the Sacrament of Penance is there, the Blessed Sacrament is there, the Stations of the Cross are there, the Rosary is within reach whenever we want to stretch out our hands to it.

Christ died to redeem us and to offer us holiness. He died in a world-shaking agony to try to drive home to us the great lesson of what we are. He died to try to make us see ourselves as He sees us. And how does Christ see us?

Let us look at ourselves through the eyes of Christ. What was it God said when He created us? “Let us make man to our image and likeness.”

Now, everything that exists is a reflection of God. The sunset, the flowers reflect His beauty. The wind, the waterfall reflect His power. The mountains, and great seas, reflect His majesty. The night sky, the stars, the blazing sun, the moon, the trees, the rocks and sands, the animals and insects, the corn growing on the prairie, the tomato ripening on the vine, the worm industriously fertilizing the soil-all reflect something of God’s infinite perfection.

God said, “Let us make man to our image and likeness.” And He gathered up in man something of all these reflections. From all the created kingdoms he took a part of man, so that when Adam and Eve stood before Him, all creation stood there. Man is mineral, man is vegetable, man is sensitive like the animals, man is spiritual. The nobility of man’s nature is beyond the power of words to express fully. And yet this, all this, is only a beginning.

On the Cross, Christ took man and added the divine. Through His sacraments, He supernaturalizes the inexpressible natural nobility of man. Man now becomes God’s own son and daughter; we are made princes and princesses of Christ’s eternal and infinite kingdom.

Why, it would not be too much to say that angels are stricken with awe at the sight of us, because we are filled with Christ, we are temples of the Holy Spirit, and in us the Son of Man and the Son of God takes up His abode, as He promised, with the Father and the Holy Ghost.

This, then, is a Christian. This is a baptized man or woman. This is one who can walk into the House of God, and go forward toward the altar, and receive the Risen Christ, true God and yet true man-our Creator, our Redeemer and our Brother-for food and drink for the soul. That is what we are; and yet we snap at one another, we fill our homes with disputes and contentions, with grabbings, with jealousies and suspicions, with ungodliness and inhumanities toward one another.

What preposterous foolishness! What imbecility!

No; we cannot talk around it; we cannot refuse to face it. Christ dying on the Cross is dying to make us like unto Him; to make our homes like the House at Nazareth; to make our families like the Holy Family of Jesus, Mary and Joseph. There is no use in our sitting around telling ourselves that sanctity is for monks and hermits, for priests and Brothers and Sisters. Yes, sanctity is for them; but sanctity is for us, too.

It is our business, we who are husbands and wives and children, we who are family and home people-it is our business to Christize ourselves and our houses and our neighborhoods. That is the business that we ought to be about. If we were about it as we ought to be, gradually we would Christize all the world; we would create world peace; we would disarm and harmonize the nations.

The Mass and the Sacraments are there at our beck and call, to give us the power and wisdom and zeal we need. Only one thing remains: Are we going to do something about it, or are we going to leave untapped, or hardly touched, the power that would flow to us from Christ Crucified if only we would open our hearts to it?

XIII-JESUS IS TAKEN DOWN FROM THE CROSS

I THINK THAT WHEN a faithful Catholic dies, there is much less reason for fear, and much more reason for rejoicing than most of us imagine.

The trouble is that we do not really grasp the greatness of being a Catholic. We do not realize what tremendous things we accomplish merely by doing our duty.

For instance, it does not seem to me that the mortal sinfulness of deliberately missing Mass on Sundays consists only in the absence of the one person. Missing Mass is much worse than that.

Each new Catholic is a new means by which Christ carries forward through time and space His divine mission of redeeming mankind and making mankind holy.

Each Catholic is an instrument which Christ has the right to use in His work. Each Catholic is a new tongue with which Christ can speak, a new heart through which He can love, a new pair of hands which He can join in prayer.

Each Catholic, in truth, is a new pair of shoulders with which Christ can carry the cross of the world’s sin. Each of us is a new body and soul in which Christ can live, and in which Christ can die.

The Catholic at Mass, then, is not merely one person giving to God the honor, adoration and gratitude which he owes to God. The Catholic at Mass is a representative.

Just as Christ took upon Himself the burdens of all of us, surely each of us, caught up in Christ as we are, must take upon ourselves the burdens of many others.

We must act, too, for those who do not know-or do not care-that they too should be acting.

When I am at Mass, how do I know how many hundreds or thousands or even millions of pagans are mystically present with me at Mass?

I do not mean to suggest that the pagans realize anything like this. No; I mean only that my presence at Mass, and my reception of Communion, might well be so pleasing to God that in return He will shower blessings not only upon me, but also upon millions of those who do not know Him.

Indeed, this is not merely possible; it is highly probable. The presence of the Church in the world is what constantly prevents mankind from lapsing into unspeakable vice. The presence of the Church is what protects the world from being cursed by God. The presence of the Church continually exerts persuasion for the transformation of the world into the kind of world that God meant it to be.

It seems to me, then, that the gravity of the sin of missing Mass on Sunday does not arise merely from the fact that one person is absent, but that this one person who ought to be winning God’s favor for many others is neglecting not only his own spiritual welfare, but theirs also.

He is hampering Christ’s work among men. And hampering Christ’s work is not the proper activity of a Christian. It is gravely contrary to the right Christian activity.

Now we cannot have a great negative without a great positive. If it is mortally sinful deliberately to miss Mass on Sunday without a legitimate reason-and it is-then obviously assisting at Mass on Sunday must be a work of great merit.

If being absent can imperil us with hell, as it does, then being present must carry us a long step forward toward heaven.

Why should it not be so? We belong to Christ by baptism and confirmation; Christ lives in us and works in and through us. At Mass we unite ourselves with Christ in worshipping and praising the eternal Father. We are caught up in Christ, we are offered with Him when He offers Himself in the Mass.

How can it be otherwise than that graces and merits are showered upon the sincere and devout Catholic at Mass- merits and graces piled up, pressed down and running over?

No; the Catholic doing his duty in life, whether at Mass or Communion, at home, at work, in civil life or wherever, is pleasing to God in very great measure. Every moment of his life, if he clings to the state of grace or regains it promptly in confession if it should be lost, he is walking toward God in heaven.

That is why I say that I think there is much more reason for rejoicing than most of us imagine at the time of the death of a faithful Catholic.

The faithful Catholic is a person who has lived in Christ, and Christ in him. This truth tends to grow dim in our minds.

We see the person’s faults; perhaps even we see his virtues. But the one thing we cannot see is the one thing that is important in life- grace.

If our friend who has departed was in the state of grace, in the friendship of God, then obviously his death calls not for wailing, but for rejoicing.

Surely we cannot sorrow over the fact that some one loved has stepped into joys such as the mind cannot imagine!

But I do not mean to suggest that we can escape from our humanity. Certainly we will always be saddened by every parting from those close to us. Certainly we will be most saddened by the long parting of death.

We must expect that; we must endure it; we must carry it as one more of the crosses that God laid upon us in order that we might earn eternity with Him.

But even as we sorrow, we ought also to rejoice. Deep in our consciousness there should be a keen realization that the death of a faithful Catholic cannot be a disaster. It cannot be other than a tremendous triumph.

This, indeed, is what being a Catholic means; it means, in St. Paul’s phrase, that as we were buried with Christ in baptism, so will we rise with Christ.

This, then, is the only question we have to ask ourselves-the only question of ultimate importance: “Is Christ living in me-am I living in Christ?”

If we can honestly say that we believe the answer to be yes-if a yes answer is the thing we desire with all our hearts-then it seems to me that we need not waste any of our time or energy upon worries about death.

Death will come when God permits it to come, and not before; and if we are Christ’s own when it comes, then it cannot come otherwise than as the one truly tremendous and permanent victory of our life.

If death finds us living in Christ, and Christ in us-as ought to be the case with any faithful Catholic-then like Christ we will be laid in the arms of Mary after we have breathed our last; and what is held in the arms of Mary is forever safe.

XIV-JESUS IS LAID IN THE TOMB

THERE ARE TWO LITTLE words, familiar and dear to Catholics, which to many outside the faith appear to be a contradiction in terms.

“Happy death.”

How can death be happy when it is rending of the deepest depths of a human being; when it means a venturing alone into the unknown, and a leaving behind of a part of one’s very nature?

Is not there something downright ghoulish about the thought of finding joy in this frightful separation of a man or woman into two parts-this death and dissolution of one part, and this flight of another part to what future we know not?

The answer would be yes, and the pagans would be right, were it not for one fact. Joy and happiness do not reside in the body; they reside in the soul. And the soul cannot die.

The soul, therefore, that is prepared for death cannot be deprived of its happiness, not even in this terrible moment of the tearing apart of human nature.

A happy death indeed is possible. We know that as a matter of divine revelation, and we know it by human experience. We have seen the saints die, and they died happily. We have heard the saints praying for death because they could not wait for the joys that lay in store for them.

We have read how St. Therese of Lisieux longed for this moment that most people dread, and how she promised with joy to spend her heaven doing good on earth.

St. Therese knew that now at last she was really going to begin to live and to rejoice, and to have powers for serving her fellowmen which she did not have in her life on this earth, for all her holiness.

St. Therese was a real realist. Courageously she had embraced with her mind and her heart the whole truth about herself and about her true reason for existing.

Death did not pounce upon St. Therese from behind; it did not catch her unaware. St. Therese went happily to meet death because she had never fooled herself about its inevitability.

To her, death was the goal toward which she had been running and struggling from childhood; and beyond it lay all the rewards of her great efforts.

Like Job, she had stored up in her heart the fact of death, the fact of entrance into heaven through the opening of death, and the fact that death is not permanent but transitory. Like Job, she had her faith in the resurrection and the moment when she would see God not alone with her soul, but with the eyes of her body, glorified and restored to her.

St. Therese knew profoundly what life is all about and what death is all about. She did not attempt to evade reality; she embraced it, hugged it to her, met all its demands open-eyed, with a heart like a lion.

Is it necessary that we rise to the heights of St. Therese in order that our death may be happy?

Not at all. St. Therese was heroic; so heroic that if there were a stronger word than heroic, we would have to use it.

Heroism means rising above and beyond the call of duty. It means doing far more than is merely necessary. The holiness of the Little Flower of Jesus was not simply enough for her own salvation; it was so great that it showered-and still showers-blessings upon countless others.

It is not required of us that we soar to such heights of spirituality. It is not even expected of us. “Many are called but few are chosen”-that much-disputed biblical passage might well be applied here for our illumination.

We are all called to salvation; comparatively few are chosen for towering sanctity. God’s dispensing of grace is a mystery of His own wisdom and good pleasure; but one thing we know as a truth of faith-to each of us He gives sufficient grace to be saved.

I think we may be certain, too, that to every Catholic God gives the opportunity for much more than merely sufficient grace.

We have the Mass. We have the Holy Eucharist, Confession, Matrimony and the other sacraments. We have the sacramentals. We are members of the Mystical Body of Christ, so that you might say that His mind constantly thinks in our minds and His heart beats with ours.

If we live in the state of sanctifying grace, He lives in us always, and with Him the Father and the Holy Spirit.

There is no good reason at all for any Catholic to have other than a happy death.

Indeed, there is really no good reason for any honest and sincere person to have other than a happy death.

The only possible reason is a bad reason-failure to cooperate with God’s grace, refusal to live according to the light and the grace that God gives.

But the Catholic!—what countless opportunities are his to increase the grace in his soul, to grow daily in holiness, to make of death not a defeat, but a triumph; not a catastrophe to be feared, but a goal to be victoriously crossed; not a terrible darkness into which to step, but a glorious light into which to advance with confidence.

This is the meaning which the Fourteenth Station of the Cross is intended to convey to us.

Christ is placed in the tomb. The body of Christ, broken by his executioners, is laid to rest. But this is not a disaster; this is the moment of triumph. Christ’s body is buried only to await its reunion with Christ’s soul, its glorification, and its eternal rising in life and power on the third day.

Christ died for one reason; to prepare the way for us. His death is our salvation, our redemption. His death is the happiness of our death. He did not leave us; He remains tirelessly with us in His Church, in His Sacraments; and above all, at the time of death, in His sacrament of Extreme Unction.

“The Anointing Unto Glory,” this sacrament has been called by some of the saints. And that, precisely, is what it is.

The Anointing is nothing less than Christ with us as we breathe our last, waiting to take our hand and lead us into the eternal joys.

The Catholic who in life faces the inevitable fact of death, and by fidelity to the Mass, the sacraments and the Commandments makes ready for it-that Catholic does not die alone.

He dies in Christ, and simultaneously lives in Christ. His body closes its tired eyes, and his soul instantly is in Christ’s company, because Christ is there in the sacraments with him.

Happy death, indeed! What else can it be, when we have made our last confession, and received our final Holy Communion, and been Anointed in the sacrament which has for its special purpose our immediate entrance into the life of God?

Death is happy for those who have faced death in life, and have made themselves ready for it by using the means that Christ provided. For these, death is a going to sleep in the arms of Our Lady in order that she can awake us and present us joyously to her divine Son.

The Fourteenth Station points to the fact of death, but above all it points farther along, to the fact of eternal life and the fact of the resurrection in glory. What it should impress deeply upon us is that unless we are fools, we will live with Christ in order to die and rise with Him.

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The Fascination of Christ

BY MAOL IOSA

INDEX

To know the character of our friends we must have met them repeatedly, not merely at an occasional social function, but at those intimate leisurely functions of life that give scope for character to unfold itself naturally and without rush, unrestricted by stilted customs and conventionalities. Persons must be framed in their usual surroundings and acting naturally. What they say and do then reveals their character, for they have removed the wrappings, dropped all masks and disguises. Similarly, to get toknow, even imperfectly, the beauty of Christ’s character, we must listen to what He says, watch what He does, find out why He does it, notice who His friends are, even Who His enemies are; a man’s enemies often give a distinct clue to his character; they certainly did to Christ’s.

In one sense to study Christ is easier than to study a human being, for the All-Holy was also the Always-Sincere. He never acted a part; never “put on an act.” He was always Himself pure and simple, always “Just Christ.” With creatures one never knows how much they mean of all they say, how much is genuine of all they do. The world has such a corrupting influence that few even in the cloister escape contamination. Worldliness, like infection, is carried by the wind, and easily affects an entrance everywhere. Moreover, men always carry with them their debased human nature. Even after 30 or 40 years” acquaintance, someone will upset your estimate of him by doing or saying something, good or bad, of which you believed him incapable.

C HRIST”S FRIENDS

All Christ said and did is of a piece, a texture beautifully interwoven and in perfect keeping with the Divinity. Let us study His friends, since friends are an index to character. First we notice that He does not number on His list of friends the High Priests, the proud Roman Rulers, the Upper Ten, the Scribes, the Pharisees, the wealthy merchants, the flaunting butterflies of society, the blue-blood of the Jewish aristocracy. No! none of all these. He comes in contact with all classes, rich and poor, learned and ignorant, long-lineaged and upstarts, snobs and simple. But His inner circle of friends consists entirely of the simple and lowly and good-living, the fishermen and carpenters and day-labourers of Judea and Galilee, unlettered men to whom He teaches the secrets of the Kingdom of Heaven.

Not that He rejected the rich if their hearts were true, for He became the friend of Lazarus and Martha but made short work of the hypocritical pretensions of the wealthy Simon. Zaccheus, the money-grubber, He singled out for special notice and favour, because Christ, unlike stupid men, read beneath the surface and found good where good existed.

He refutes the sophistry of the erudite doctors, yet explains to shreds His parables when instructing the poor and illiterate, content to repeat and illustrate a doctrine continually till their untutored minds grasped it in all its significance. With men of good-will He was gentle and sweet and patient, putting forth all the charm of His gracious personality. But with the malicious, the cunning,. the hypocrites, He used stronger methods. He pierced and tore asunder the leathery mask of their hypocrisy with biting epithet and fierce denunciation: “Woe to you, Scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites . . . Woe to you, blind guides. You serpents, generation of vipers, how will you flee from the judgement ofhell?” (Matt. 23).

The little children pluck at His garments, cling to His hand, sit on His knee resting their curly heads against His breast, climb up the back of His chair and fling their arms round His neck. The sick get themselves carried out on stretchers and left by the roadside, knowing that when passing He will, even unasked, say the word that will make them whole. And not one is disappointed.

The afflicted follow Him, sure that if they even touch the hem of His robe they will be cured. The broken-hearted widows and mothers know Him for a tower of strength and a. refuge in trouble. The possessed, the mentally-afflicted, the sin-weary, the sick and sore, even the dying and the dead, are brought to His feet to receive that pitying glance that restores to them their pristine vigour. All realise that they can be His friends if only they cast out satan in order to let the Lord Christ enter in and take possession of their hearts.

All love the Wonder-Worker, the Kind Prophet, the Sin less One Who is nevertheless the “Friend of sinners.” He magnetises all but the hypocrites and the insincere, these fly Him. Falsity cowers in His presence, all the starch and presumption gone out of it. He is the dear Friend of upright men, of Peter and James and John, and Lazarus at whose death He actually weeps. He is the dear Friend of women, of Martha and Mary, of the Widow of Naim, of “Joanna the wife of Chusa, Herod’s steward and Susanna and many others who ministered unto Him of their substance” ((Lk. 8: 3). In fact, so numerous were His friends that He had to fly lest they make Him King.

CHRIST”S ENEMIES

Now let us glance at His enemies. Among them we find the High Priests, jealous of His distinction, His power, His popularity, His integrity, His exemplary life, His manly bearing, His divine attributes; the Pharisees who hated Him as vice and hypocrisy ever hate virtue and straightforwardness, and whose hypocrisy He lashed with tongue of scorn; the Scribes who “love salutations in the market-place and who devour the house of widows” by exploiting them; the sensualists, the double-dealers, the cheats-all these formed a coalition against Him, but not one “man of good-will” do we find among them. Let this console us when we too make enemies. If we have done nothing to deserve the enmity it should not worry us.

HIS SPEECH

Of the beauty of Christ’s speech no tongue can adequately speak. His hearers summed it all up when they said: “Never did man speak as this Man.” Wonderful clearness combined with beauty of diction, a childlike meekness and humility yet a firm unfaltering claim to Divinity, wholehearted sincerity and simplicity united with manly dignity, extraordinary patience in expounding His doctrine, homely, appealing illustrations taken from the everyday life of His listeners, forceful and telling answers to hecklers, for we read: “And after that, they (the Scribes) durst not ask Him any more questions” (Lk. 20: 40)-these were the outstanding features of His speech.

He was no boaster of pusher of Himself. He quietly but firmly asserted His co-equality with God the Father, when that assertion was necessary. He never spoke aggressively; never hurt anyone’s feelings-the Pharisees were beyond hurting; never exposed sinners publicly, but rather shielded them, and even defended them when they were attacked, as in the case of Mary Magdalen.

Though yielding and kindly when to be so involved no sacrifice of principle, once the question of principle entered in, He was adamant. When His doctrines, especially that of the Blessed Eucharist, were attacked with ridicule and disbelief, He quietly re-iterated them with greater emphasis; not a tittle-not an iota did He yield: “Except you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink His Blood, you shall not have life in you” (Jn. 6: 54). And on another occasion: “Whosoever doth not carry His cross and come after Me cannot be My disciple . . . So likewise every one of you that doth not renounce all that he possesseth cannot be My disciple” (Lk. 14). What an inducement to hold out to His followers! Absolute integrity of speech was His. Fancy any leader recruiting disciples by telling them: “You shall be hated by all men for My Name’s sake”! And strange to say, they flocked to Him, and have ever since been flocking to His standard, the despised Cross, eager and enthusiastic to lay down their lives for Him even under the diabolical tortures and incarceration camps of Eastern Europe.

HIS GENTLENESS

Study the tenderness of His dealing with the weaknesses of men. That character is surely lovable in which manliness is allied with gentleness and consideration for others. The vacillating though well-intentioned Nicodemus, afraid to risk his reputation by being seen even talking to this Prophet of doubtful standing who was condemned by both Church and State, and yet curious to find out if He is genuine and has any “message,” seeks a stealthy interview at midnight with Christ, and the understanding Christ gives it. The melancholy, shiftless cripple at the Probatic pool who, if he were worth his salt, would surely in 38 years have devised some way of reaching the pool just after the angel’s visits to it, made his despairing whine to the Saviour about having no one to help him, and Christ cured Him instantaneously without a single reproach for his lack of initiative, The dejected disciples at Emmaus with their courage down-at-heel and their confidence in the Christ gone to pieces, meeting Him at Emmaus as theysadly dub His whole mission another of “History’s lost causes,” are so re- invigorated by His words, so fascinated by His personality that they implore Him, nay, even “constrain Him to stay longer with them.” He does. No reproach for these back-sliding doubting disciples! What a torrent of vituperation any earthly leader would excusably pour forth on such weak-kneed adherents, who in spite of all they saw Him do, now openly doubt His promise to rise again, though “the third day” is but a few hours old!

See His treatment of the renegade Peter, the doubting Thomas, the fickle, selfish apostles and disciples who in His hour of direst need “all leaving Him, fled.” Notice His motherliness-yes, motherliness-in thinking of the needs of the multitude who followed Him listening to His words till long past their dinner hour. And who but One with all the tender thoughtfulness of a mother would have ready for the Apostles, wearied after an all-night fishing expedition, a cheery, glowing fire and roast fish, and Who, waiting on the shore, hailed them with a “Come, children, and dine”? And this was the risen Christ of the glorified Body!

CHRIST THE HEALER

Where there was suffering of any kind-sorrow, disease, diabolical possession, death-there Christ was to be found removing it, or giving strength and consolation to bear it. He demanded no conditions, exacted no promises-the need of His presence was enough. He asked no questions, put no limitations to the extent of His goodness and mercy. He did not inquire if the sufferer were Jew or Gentile, poor or rich, sinful or holy; He just went straight for His creature’s sorrow and removed it. And-He is the same now as then. All we need do is tell Him the trouble, leaving the rest to His Compassionate Heart. He was touched to the quick by the anguish of the widowed mother at Naim, and raised her dead son to life. He wept with the sisters of the dead Lazarus, and gave him back life and strength. Entering the Centurion’s house where all were weeping and mourning the dead daughter of the house. He said, “Weep not, the maid only sleepeth.” And though “they laughed Him to scorn,” He took her by the hand, saying, “Maiden, arise!” She did, and-notice the thoughtful kindness of His next words- “Now give her something to eat.” The God of Heaven and earth was always as mindful of the physical needs of His followers as of their spiritual needs. To read the Gospels, teeming with such examples, is to realise He had a heart of gold, compassionate and tender as a mother’s. He never hurt but to cure; never sent a sorrow but in order to eradicate a greater evil, just as the surgeon’s knife removes a tumour.

HIS INDEPENDENCE

His marvellous union of manliness and gentleness, strength and sweetness, firmness and amiability won all hearts. He never toadied to the rich or powerful, never sought their favour or notice. On the contrary He condemned them even when His life was in danger from them. Who more powerful than the High Priests, the Pharisees and Rulers? Yet He lashed them with invective after invective for their camouflaged wickedness and duplicity. There is no trace of fear about His eightfold denunciation of them, “Woe to you, Pharisees” in Matthew XXIII! To their faces He called them “an evil and adulterous generation” (Matt. 12: 29). He denounced them publicly, though like ourselves today He knew it would go back to them increased a hundredfold, especially as it was criticism of the high and mighty: “Beware ye of the leaven of the Pharisees which is hypocrisy.” How striking to call it “leaven” (so familiar to them), permeating every thought, word and deed of the Pharisees!

And of the governor Herod, who, He was warned, “had a mind to kill Him,” He said: “Go tell that fox; “Behold I cast out devils, and do cures today and tomorrow, and the third day I am consummated”“ (Lk. 13: 32). And this was not done to curry favour with democracy whom He equally condemned when they violated God’s laws.

After His most striking miracles He warned the recipients, “Go now, and tell no man.” Human praise and app roval, the breath of men’s mouths, affected Him no more than their blame and execration, for His Soul was enjoying the Beatific Vision far above the flux and reflux of ephemeral mundane things. It takes us mortals a lifetime to grow indifferent to our neighbour’s judgements on us, and few of us ever attain that harbour.

HIS TEACHING V. THAT OF THE PHARISEES

Apart altogether from the compelling truth of His doctrine and the charm of His personality, the people could not help loving and admiring Him-He was such a contrast to the religious leaders they saw around them. He prayed in the mountain, apart; they in the market-place and prominent parts of the Temple. When He and His disciples fasted they did so quietly and even cheerfully; the Pharisees put on long, woebegone faces, “made broad their phylacteries,” and told everybody what great penance they were doing, and-ate their fill in secret. He taught and practised poverty; the Scribes and Pharisees ostentation and worship of wealth. He taught love of obscurity and of the lowest place; they taught ambition, love of power and prominence; He taught the virtue of givingin; they taught the doctrine of reprisals, “an eye for an eye.”

He said: “But I say to you not to resist evil; if one strike thee on the right cheek, turn to him also the other.” He sought out the poor and lowly and unimportant; they had eyes and ears and hands for none but the “Big Ones” of the earth. He championed converted sinners; they spurned all who had the “weakness” to be converted or found out; with them the only sin was discovery. He inculcated the simplicity and trust of little children as an essential for Heaven; the Pharisees” whole lives were patterned after the subtle cunning of the serpent.

He taught inflexibility of principle, straightforwardness of dealing, the sanctity of an oath, manliness of bearing, justice for the lowest, kindness to the old and suffering, tolerance and patience towards all creeds, classes, colours, peoples, all except one class whom He could not stand- the hypocrites, the players-up, the liars, the whitened sepulchres whose fair outside conceals a soul full of rapine and rottenness. He preached love first, last and all the time; they preached hate and vengeance and hitting back hard. His life was open and Godly; theirs was secret because “dunged with rotten death.” Is it any wonder they hated and feared Him and hired assassins to do away with Him?

Christ’s exquisite character is a w onderful combination of what we deem opposites. He was all-powerful yet He pleaded for love; simple yet sublime; a Teacher with a divine mission-yet He loved to be surrounded by prattling, clinging children, having no use for the learned self-opinionated doctors. He was homely yet full of dignity and reserve; strong as a rock yet softhearted as a tender mother; pitiful to the weak and erring, dead against “casting stones” by word or deed, yet fierce in His denunciations of hypocrisy and harshness and rigid narrowness; sinless and hating sin, yet loving and excusing the sinner He was the great Almighty Son of God dying on the Cross to draw all hearts throughout all ages to His standard, yet at the same time grateful for a word or glance of pity from the outcast thief, Dismas.

CHRIST”S MANLINESS

Christ our Leader was the manliest and noblest of the sons of men. None ever had to the same degree the qualities deserving the epithet “manly.” Our idea of it is strength, bravery, courage to fight for right and for principle, steadfastness in adhering to what conscience says is right, firmness in opposing those in the wrong, no matter how powerful and mighty they may be. It is usually allied with. an optimistic faith in the power of right to win through in spite of insuperable obstacles,

“Never doubting clouds will break

Neverdreaming tho’ right be worsted, wrong will triumph.”

Christ was magnanimous, forgiving readily any personal insult or treachery, even when He suffered the greatest wrong one human being can suffer from another -betrayal into the hands of his enemies. He was ready, even longing, to forgive Judas if only Judas had repented and asked forgiveness. Peter, too, denied Him in His hour of need, “cursed and swore that he knew not the Man.” “And the Lord turning looked on Peter,” not reproachfully but understandingly and forgivingly! All the Apostles but John forsook Him, leaving Him to His fate, yet His first thought after His Resurrection was for them: “Go tell My Brethren,” etc.

He brooked no belittlement of God’s temple or His service, showing quick anger at any offence against the majesty of

His Father. He whipped the moneymakers out of the Temple for they had made “His Father’s House a den of thieves.” A manly man does not stand tamely by when God’s Name is taken lightly or His service ridiculed, or His chosen ones insulted or His goodness impugned. He refuses to let such expressions go unchallenged and is not afraid to demand their instant withdrawal. He is not ashamed to lift his hat passing a church, or to say the Angelus or Grace at meals, or to approach the Blessed Eucharist often; in a word he is not ashamed to let others see that his religion is a vital thing and that to insult it is to insult him.

Christ loved sinners and went out of His way to save them from themselves and from the contempt of the selfrighteous. He sat by the well trying to win back to purity the much-married woman of Samaria; he defended the converted sinner Magdalen against the insults of the whited-sepulchre Simon the Pharisee, though He knew well that by so doing He gave food for talk to His malignant enemies. How many of your manly young men of this modern age would put themselves into such an invidious position? How many of them allow the character of even a good girl to be pulled to pieces and listen unprotestingly! Would they stand up for even a reclaimed “outcast” or help to re-instate her and get their womenfolk to help her? I wonder! Christlike charity ignores worldly prudence.

Christ preferred death to dishonour 1iterally and truly. When a Prisoner, hustled across the city to Herod’s court to contribute to the amusement of that besotted monarch, who was eager to see this much-talked-of Prophet and see Him perform some of His “spectacular tricks and wonders,” Christ uttered not a word in Herod’s presence, though His very life was at stake. He knew the rottenness and insincerity of Herod’s heart. For the poor and lowly, the diseased, the crippled, the outcast, the leper, He was eager to perform miracle after miracle because they were men of good-will. For the sinsodden, brutalised sensualist who sent for Him to mock Him, He had not a word or a glance! The wily, accusers of the poor woman taken in adultery were shown by Christ their own shameful sins so that they slunk away one by one.

Our Lord was no diplomat, though we know that He was tactful and considerate but He loved straight talk, honourable methods, a clean fight if fight there must be as with the Pharisees. For Him therapeutic truth did not exist, He knew only absolute truth. There was no room in His speech for half-statements, innuendoes, vague terms, double-meaning phrases or for anything that could be called a suppressio veri or suggestio falsi. Fear inspired by a truth-drug will never replace love of truth. He knew souls inside out-was He not their Creator? To Him personality was an open book. He probably smiles at the late-twentieth century claim to cure defects of character by physical curatives instead of by the good old-fashioned mother’s method of training the child to curb its passions and strengthen its will-power with perhaps occasional recourse by the mother to external physical measures!

Real manliness and strength of character are shown when a man remains true to his ideal through jibes and scorn and mockery, and when, in addition, He is abandoned and betrayed by His own followers. Jesus went through that agony of heart in a divine manner. The scoffers on Calvary, most of whom must have been the recipients of His miraculous favours, jibed at Him: “Vah! Come down from the Cross and we will believe in Thee.” “He saved others, Himself He cannot save.” Jesus took no notice of scorn; but as in the hey-day of His vigour was a thirst for souls. Even in His deathagony His mission is ever before His eyes.

A noble character disdains to soil his hands with his opponent’s dirty tools and methods even though such base tactics may be necessary to his success. To meet trickery with trickery, disloyalty with disloyalty, is not by any means decried in this pushing,struggling world of ours. It needs superb courage to keep one’s hands spotless while others climb aloft by means of soiled ones! Judas the arch-traitor betrayed Our Lord with a kiss-the signal agreed on for the selling of Him Who was beyond price; Christ did not strike Judas dead, did not denounce Judas as thief and hand him over to justice as He could have done, but hoping against hope to soften that moneyhardened heart, He gently reproached him: “Friend, dost thou betray the Son of Man with a kiss?”

When His enemies used chicanery and spying, word-twisting and calumny against Him, He went on His way just as usual, His “yea” being “yea,” His “nay” ,”nay.” No refuting of their accusations, no turning of the tables on them, no showing-up of their secret crimes, as we mortals would have done! He has, too, a big way of bestowing praise even in small things. “Well done, thou good and faithful servant! Because thou hast been faithful over a few things I will place thee over many.” He is quick to recognise goodness, however slight: “She, since she came in, hath not ceased to wash My feet with her tears.”

He is grateful for even a kind word of recognition which He rewards a hundredfold: “Zaccheus, make haste and come down for this day I must abide in thy house.” This, to a tax-gatherer who has merely shown curiosity to make His acquaintance! And then when this money-grubber repents and offers four-fold restitution he gets the magnificent reward: “Behold, this day is salvation come to thy house”-not merely to himself but all his people! Similar generous treatment was accorded to the woman who kissed the hemof His garment with faith: “Who hath touched Me? Virtue is gone out from Me.”

Christ disliked seeing people distressed and humiliated. His manly, protective instinct impelled Him to come to their rescue. Witness His action at the marriage of Cana when the good couple ran out of wine. He created it for them to save their blushes, and it was a “God-send” in quality and quantity. No man ever tasted as good. Again when the over-zealous, fussy disciples call on Him to send away the Canaanite woman “for she calleth after us,” He quickly takes her part, saying: “Amen, I say to you. I have not found so great a faith in Israel.”

Christ in common with all noble, manly men reverences His Mother, obeys her slightest wish, thinks of her all through life, saves her all unnecessary pain, and at the hour of His death bequeaths her as His most precious treasure to His beloved disciple St. John, to be cherished as his own. She had been preserved free from the slightest taint of sin, Immaculate in her conception and life, and as was fitting, God did not allow her sacred flesh to see corruption in death for He assumed her body and soul into Heaven where He crowned her Queen of Heaven and earth. That feast of her Queenship we celebrate on November 1st.

Consider the majesty of His utterances all through the New Testament. To take a few: “Come to me all you who labour and are burthened and I will refresh you”; “I am the Way, the Truth and the Life”; “I am the living Bread which came down from Heaven. If any man eat of this Bread Heshall live for ever.” And add to these the wonderful Sermon on the Mount, and the sublime discourse after the Last Supper (Jn. 14: 17). See His grandeur and majesty as He stands amidst the cowering disciples in the half-submerged boat commanding the winds and the waves to be at peace, “And there came a great calm.”

Is it any wonder thousands down through the ages have given Him love for love, have cried out with Fr. W. Doyle: “Oh, Jesus! who would not love Thee! Who would not give his heart’s blood for Thee!”

LOVE WINS HIM

His is surely a character such as no mere man had ever possessed. We may “sound what stop we please but we cannot pluck the heart out of His mystery,” for He is the great God and hence, too divine, too complex for our limited intelligence to understand. There is one little golden “key” and one only that can help us unlock the secrets of His character-the magic key of love, one that childlike hands have grasped effectively all down through the ages. With this key, souls like St. Thérèse, St. Margaret Mary, St. Francis of Assisi, St. Thërèse de Couderc, humble in their own estimation, obtained admittance to a perfect understanding of the character of Christ. This is the key we, too, must employ if we wish to know Him more clearly and follow Him more nearly. A human being is said to be fascinating whose beauty, charm and influence weave a potent spell over others during at most a few years. But what fascination has the world ever seen powerful enough to cast its spell round the best men and women of 2,000 years, impelling them to give up youth and love and worldly happiness, even life itself for the sake of a Christ they had never seen but Whose love they prize beyond all the possessions of earth?

The young who are full of ideas and enthusiasms , eager with all youth’s impetuosity for self-sacrifice, flock joyfully to His service day after day, ready to labour for Him in India or America, Nigeria or Japan, under the Northern Star or the Southern Cross, in the frigid zone or in the burning tropics. They have never seen Him yet they love Him with a personal love, as lover loves the twin of his soul; and the holier they are the more wildly romantic is that love. His presence fills their life, thrills their being, fascinates their imagination. Each can say with truth: “I live, no, not I, but Christ liveth in me.”

But still greater proof of the fascination of Christ is afforded by the example of the hundreds of thousands of staid men and women, whom no flight of imagination can deem visionaries or idealists, who continue year after year to honour their bond of 20, 30, 50 years ago, devoting to Him their energies of mind and body and heart, sacrificing to Him their time and health and hopes of earthly happiness that often seem only the more alluring when the capacity for enjoying them begins to decline. Christ’s chosen ones make use of external work of some kind by which to serve His Cause, and this activity carries with it its own pleasure and balm. But the fascination of Christ is also shown-and more remarkably perhaps-by the fact that these same elect of God are content to lay aside all active work for at least ten days in each year, and sacrifice-their time and leisure and freedom in order to go with Him, the Christ Who lived on earth 2,000 years ago, into a desert place, practising prayer, mortification, silence, listening to a preacher expounding truths that in the last 30 or 40 years they have been listening to, and reading about, day in, day out in lectures and meditations. Such a life is attractive to the young to whom it is novel, but for the old who have grown so sensitive to the cool breezes of monotony or weariness, whose blood not runs but creeps haltingly and frigidly through vein and artery, in whom cold, calculating reason has been trying for years to gain the mastery over a warm sentient heart and in whom the fires of life and vigour have died down to cold ashes-for these to be still enthusiastic about the close following of Christ or even to adhere to it at all with any sort of constancy, proves incontestably that the fascination of Christ is as strong today as it was twenty centuries ago, and is as vigorous in those who never had the happiness of seeing the Christ as it was in those who fell under His spell in the vineclad countryside of Galilee or on the sunny slopes of the Judean hills.

Nihil Obstat:

Gulielmus Dargan, S.J. Censor Theol. Deput.

Imprimi Potest:

@ JOANNES CAROLUS, Archiep. Dublinen.,

Hiberniae Primas.

Dublini; die 18 Augusti, 1955.

********

The Fighting Church

REV. VALENTINE VARONA, C. M

INDEX

THE CATHOLIC CHURCH has always sought that all men be saved, that all should rise again to the life of grace but she knows that first they must suffer and die with Jesus, for it is from the Cross their salvation flows. She wants all her children to give themselves up entirely, in these days, to the thought, love and embrace of Christ, and Christ crucified.

Oh, Cross of Christ! Thou art the Book of life open for all to read. Thou art a Book open for all to gather round and write their names in letters of purest gold! Let us take our stand, then, at the foot of the Cross, and with the sorrows of the Mother and the anguish of the Son filling our hearts, let us meditate. . . . let us study, the mighty problem of our own and that of others. “ Behold the Tree whence hung the world’s ransom; come, let us adore!

The Drama of Christ’s Passion and Death is summed up by the Church in one felicitous phrase of her hymn to the Cross “Mors et vita duello conflixere mirando,”“Life and death engaged in fearful battle.” Our Redeemer had compassion on human wretchedness, and going forth to battle with the Prince of Death, died, but in His death triumphed, and gave Life to mankind.

The struggle was fierce. Tears on Christ’s entry into the Holy City; deep anxiety and the pain of departure at the Last Supper; agony of soul and sweat of blood in the garden of olives; forsaken by His own; contrivances of love with Judas; silence before Herod; insults, affronts and humiliations along the streets of Jerusalem. The crown of thorns clamps His brow, thirst consumes Him, and the cruel scourge has left His sacred body one bleeding, burning wound. Then follows the way to Calvary, the outrage of the crucifixion, the shame of being stripped, the mysterious “My God, my God why hast thou forsaken Me? And on the cross, His bodily sufferings are enhanced by bitterness of soul; He sees before Him a blinded people that rejects Him and cries out to Him: May His Blood fall on us and on our children! He hears the scoffing of His enemies; He gathers before His eyes the ingratitude of the human race. . . . What titanic struggle now encompasses Him “ Mors et vita duello conflixere mirando!”

Life and death engaged in fearful battle!

But He died so that from His death Life might sally forth triumphant!

From that moment Jesus Christ wields sceptre over all things, and is Master of every human heart. In His Name every knee shall bow in heaven, on earth and under the earth; and every tongue shall confess, that He is Lord of all.” (Philippians ii, 8 foll.)

From the. Death of Christ flowed for all men the life of divine grace. And the Church, lost in admiration and joy at this mystery of Mercy, at this divine Offering in Sacrifice for us that unlocks the gates of Heaven, cries out in her emotion “O happy fault, that claimed such and so great a Redeemer!”

THE GREAT MYSTERY

Admirable, sublime, is the work of our Redemption; but frankly, considering the Tree of Life so laden with fruits of salvation, on the one hand, and the fruits actually plucked by mankind, on the other, we are dumbfounded and seek an answer. One drop of Christ’s Blood shed for our ransom would have been more than enough to redeem a thousand worlds like ours. Jesus might have redeemed us by shedding a single tear, or by a prayer for our forgiveness. Of this there is no doubt, for “as far as the ocean exceeds one drop of water, so do Christ’s merits surpass our debt.” But Christ shed all His Blood; His whole life was but one long martyrdom. And, as if this were not sufficient, He remains night and day on our altars as a Victim; perpetually He intercedes for us in Heaven.

HOW IS IT THEN THAT SO MANY SOULS STILL FIND THEMSELVES ESTRANGED FROM CHRIST? Any Catholic fixing his eyes on the map of the world will discover that 1,300 millions know nothing about Christ, and that the ransomed world today is athirst with murder, hate and voluptuousness. Are these the fruits plucked by mankind from the Tree of Life of Calvary?

“Oh, the depths of the riches of the wisdom and of the knowledge of God!” . . . Who is man that he should pretend to penetrate God’s infinite ways or fathom His judgments, so far beyond human reasoning? “Who hath known the mind of the Lord? Or who hath been His counsellor?” (Romans xi, 34),. These are the words that spring to our mind when confronted with the great problem of the salvation of the world.

Words of trust in God, no doubt, but our heart and reason are still left aching, wondering. Knowing, as we do know, that Our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ yearns to make all men share the fruits of His most holy Passion and Death, we are spurred on to ask the question: Why is it that the vast majority are still plunged into error, vice and paganism? I should not wish to overdo the dark side of the picture before our eyes, but surely I cannot be said to exaggerate when I affirm that not only in the heathen world, but also among Catholics saturated with Christian principles, the number of the apathetic and indifferent towards everything supernatural is legion; not to speak of those who openly turn their backs on Christianity. And all this after the Church’s relentless endeavour for so many centuries to Christianize the world and make men share the fruits of Redemption!

(a) Theoretical solution. The solution to the problem is twofold; the first answer is summed up by St. Augustine as follows:

GOD WISHES ALL MEN TO BE SAVED, HE WISHES ALL TO COME TO THE KNOWLEDGE OF THE TRUTH. BUT THIS DESIRE, INFINITELY SINCERE, DOES NOT DESTROY THE FREE WILL OF THOSE WHOM HE WISHES TO SAVE

God, has endowed human beings with the gift of intelligence, a gift that brings us very close to Himself; but having given us the power of reasoning, it would be unworthy of our nature to force us to receive His other supreme gift: the gift of His grace. Therefore, together with knowledge, God gave us the power to choose between good and evil. This power, called free will, is the most delicate token of love we could possibly receive from Him who is our Sovereign Lord and Master; and of this token God will never deprive us.

But, while respecting this gift of free will, God ardently desires our salvation, and calls us to Himself with insistency and fatherly solicitude. “This is the will of God: your sanctification.” It remains for us, then, simply to accept God’s invitation or to reject it: our free will ultimately will decide our destiny, once we have attained the age of reason.

God Himself has inspired the Psalmist with words of tender beseeching wherewith to show us the reality of his desire for our salvation

“Hear, O my people, and I will testify to thee.

O Israel, if thou wilt hearken to me,

There shall be no new God in thee:

Neither shalt thou adore a strange god.

For I am the Lord thy God. . . .

If my people had heard me,

If Israel had walked in my ways. . . .

He had fed them with the fat of wheat,

And filled them with honey out of the rock.”

(Psalm 80).

And God Himself proved this love in a way that would leave no doubt whatsoever. His Son gave His very life for us. But many, many do not wish to find Life in His Death!

Thus, no one may presume to challenge God’s justice and Love. Yet still our minds ache.

The problem throbs with greater violence still when we see our Good Shepherd and Master hanging from the infamous gibbet, looking over the earth, piercing every generation till the end of the world, and uttering that tremendous word: “I THIRST!” I thirst to suffer for all men, for their salvation, for everyone.

Twenty centuries nearly have passed and that thirst burns as fiercely as ever. Today, that word “I THIRST” is as full of reality and meaning as on the day it was uttered by the Divine Victim.

If grace can change the heart of the coldest and most rebellious, how is it that so many ransomed souls fail to reap the fruits of their Redemption? One reels to think of it.

(b) Practical solution. The Apostle St. Paul gives us the clue to a solution which, while yet enshrouded in darkness, affords some comfort to the heart. St. Paul professes to know only one thing: Christ, and Christ crucified, to live by Christ, to despise all things but Christ, and to labour with every ounce of his strength to make Christ known, loved and lived by all men. The crumbling of his body in death he looks forward to, for then his union with his Saviour will be perfect.

With all this zeal and labour, however, he realizes that others must help him: “Pray that the glory of God may run and may be glorified as among you.” He clearly sees that the Church of Christ must offer to God a united and fervent petition that his work may be fruitful; and in his epistles he very earnestly asks the help of the faithful:

“I beseech you, therefore, brethren, through our Lord Jesus Christ, and by the Charity of the Holy Ghost, that you help me in your prayers for me to God . . . that the oblation of my service may be acceptable to the saints . . .”

And again, so convinced is he of the power of prayer when offered by the faithful for the salvation of all men: “I desire, therefore, FIRST OF ALL, that supplications, prayers, intercessions and thanksgivings be made for all men . . .”

“ I beseech “ . . .” 1 desire “ . . . My strivings and those of the other Apostles will be of such limited efficacy without your co-operation, that my one supreme concern in your regard is that you offer “supplications, intercessions, players and thanksgivings.” Not casual prayers, but many, repeated, fervent, unceasing and in every manner and form. The dictionary is too small for the Apostle’s requirements when dealing with this pressing practical solution to the terrible problem of human salvation.

“First of all,” not an obligation to be taken up or left at choice, but your first duty; a duty to be performed through our Lord Jesus Christ, and by the Charity of the Holy Ghost.” If the Spirit of Christ is in you at all, you will not slacken in your efforts to make fruitful for all men the Blood which Christ shed on Calvary! And St. Paul sets the example: “God is my witness that without ceasing I make a commemoration of you.”

The answer to the problem, then, is crystal clear in its practical aspect: if the Redemption has reached so few souls, it is because we Christians have not played our part assigned to us by God for the application of the merits of His Son.

CO-REDEEMERS WITH CHRIST

Our union with Christ. -Shortly before leaving this world, at the Last Supper, our Divine Saviour prays to His Eternal Father that, as He is one with His Father, so too may His believers be all one with Him, united to Him as the branches are united to the stock of the vine; receiving from Him what only He can give: a share in that very Divine Life which He receives from the Father. True it is, grace does not make us equal to God, but it does enable us to enter into the Life of God in a way far surpassing our human capacities: by grace we are allowed, in some degree, to know God as God knows Himself, to love God as God loves Himself, and to be happy with the happiness wherewith God is eternally blissful. Through Christ, the Son of God, we are adopted by the Father and also made sons. Thus we become likened to Jesus Christ, and whatever we do in union with Him is of merit for Heaven. If we pray for the salvation of our own soul and for others, we become still more like the Redeemer, and we call ourselves fellow workers with Christ.

The reason why we can benefit one another by our prayers and good works is that in Christ we all constitute one great Mystical Body: a living, supernatural Organism whereof Christ is, as it were, the Head, and we the Members. Just as the soul is the binding power that unites all the parts of a human body, so does the Spirit of Christ, the Holy Ghost, unite us all into one Body; and, in order to keep the Mystical Body well nourished, Christ has given Himself as Food in the Holy Eucharist, till the end of the world. Every Communion, then, strengthens our membership in the Body, strengthens likewise the Body as a whole, and so ensures a more vigorous mutual assistance between the various Members. The profit of one member is the profit of all; the loss of each, the loss of the collectivity: this is the underlying truth about the Communion of the Saints, and the great spur to an ardent, enlightened zeal for souls.

But Christ lives within us, as well as among us. He identifies Himself so closely with each one of us, that at the Last

Day of judgment He will reproach any lack of fraternal charity with these astounding declarations:

“I was hungry, and you gave me not to eat;

I was thirsty, and you gave me not to drink, . . .

For what you did to the very least of my brethren, you did it to me.”‘

This union of the soul with Christ is developed most perfectly in the Apostle St. Paul, to such an extent that He can cry out:

“I live, now, not I; Christ lives in me!”

If, according to the expression of St. Augustine, the faithful united with Christ constitute the “WHOLE CHRIST,” it was not sufficient for the HEAD to pray, suffer and die, the MEMBERS must do likewise; and until the WHOLE CHRIST is zealously engaged in the salvation of the world, the world will continue along the ways of indifference, rebellion and ignorance of salvation. Have we done our duty as members of Christ?

An Indian Chief from one of the American tribes, after visiting Christian countries, was asked by his tribesmen what had most deeply impressed him. “When I entered the great Christian churches and heard huge throngs of people singing the praises of Jesus Christ, I was thunderstruck by the thought that those same people who found such delight in their religion should have remained so many centuries doing very little to bring their religion over to us; this was what impressed me most deeply!”

A hard saying, but largely true!

THE APOSTLESHIP OF PRAYER.*

Its aim, briefly, is to ensure the daily consciousness of our place as co-redeemers with Christ, and to bring forth from every quarter of the globe a steady flow of prayers and sacrifices and Communions for the world’s conversion, in union with the Suffering and Crucified Redeemer. It is not enough to compassionate the Saviour on the Cross, like the Mother, we must positively unite our prayers and sufferings with His for one common purpose.

It is within reach of everyone . Not all can contribute with money; still less can all give their personal services on the Mission field; but everyone without exception can pray daily and make an Offering of all his good works to Christ the Redeemer.

The excellence of the work of this Society has often been praised by the Roman Pontiffs and also richly indulgenced.” The Apostleship of Prayer,” says Leo XIII, “is so beautiful a work and unites so much fruitfulness with so much simplicity that it assuredly deserves all the favour of Ecclesiastical Authority. I rejoice to see it established, and I shall never tire of promoting it.” . . .”It is a happiness to Us, very dear sons, to call to mind, for the greater glory of God, that from the moment when the divine Will committed to our hands the charge of a portion of the flock of Christ, We held it as a duty of our Pastoral Ministry to offer to the faithful the most efficacious means of salvation, among which, without a doubt, the devotion to the Sacred Heart of Jesus is one of the foremost. We resolve, in consequence, and We order by a special decree that the Apostleship of Prayer should be established. . . .” “ We desire to see the clergy and people acquainted with, appreciating and embracing the Apostleship of Prayer and its practices. Our wish is that all parish priests and all the directors of pious Associations should devote themselves to introducing and fostering this work in the parishes and confraternities under their charge.”

The abundant harvest reaped by means of this Association and the fact of its being now established in every part of the world speak highly of its importance and of how pleasing it must be to the Sacred Heart.

The three degrees. I shall briefly indicate here the degrees of membership in this Association. i. The first degree-essential and common to all members-consists in the daily offering of all our prayers, good works and sufferings, in union with the Most Sacred Heart of Jesus, for the intentions of Christ agonizing on the Cross. This is the primary and necessary condition for membership. And although devotion to the Sacred Heart is not the direct

*Founded in 1844 at the Jesuit Seminary, Vals, France, it now numbers thirty million members throughout the world. aim of the Apostleship, all members are obliged to cultivate it, because the Association makes special use of this devotion as a means of making its members men of intense prayer, prayer which, united to the Heart of Jesus, becomes most efficacious and powerful to bring about the supreme aim: the extension of the Kingdom of Christ on earth.

The formula used by members for the fulfilment of this first degree of membership is:—“O Jesus, through the most pure Heart of Mary, I offer Thee all my prayers, works and sufferings of this day, for all the intentions of Thy Divine Heart.” ii. Second degree. Besides the Morning Offering, as prescribed above for members of the First Degree, one must invoke the intercession of the Most Blessed Virgin, saying each day [1] Our Father and [10] Hail Marys for the intention approved by the Pope which is made known at the beginning of each month by the Promoters. iii. Third degree. Besides the Morning Offering mentioned above, the members of the third degree undertake to receive Holy Communion once a week, or at least, once a month, in reparation to the Sacred Heart for all the sins of the world.

Prayer and the Offering of all our good works and sufferings in union with the Sacred Heart for the intentions of Christ, as He hung agonizing on the Cross, is the only thing we are asked for to be members of this Association.

Without prayer and suffering there can be no fruitful ministry, no means of obtaining the grace of God. Jesus Christ Himself, Almighty as He was, chose no other means of redeeming the world. He wends His way through cities and hamlets in Palestine; the crowds eagerly throng round Him at the crossroads and follow Him along the streets; and Jesus is moved to compassion as He looks about Him and sees them like sheep straying without a shepherd; but withal, He has recourse only to one remedy: “Pray to the Lord of the Harvest

He enjoins His Disciples that He send labourers into His Harvest, for the labourers are few and the work is great.” And later, when He is lifted up on the Cross, the Mediator between God and mankind, in the midst of His most awful agony, He turns to His Heavenly Father and PRAYS:—“Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.”

To Christ praying for us on the Cross the Church unites herself. And every day, on the paten at Mass she offers her prayers together with those of the Divine Victim, that He may offer both in unison to His Father. Were it not for this daily Offering of the Church at large, the world would be engulfed in the punishment it deserves; the world would cease to exist at all.

Every Catholic, then, must contribute daily with his petition: “Thy Kingdom come” to the salvation of souls and the glory of God.

It is not precisely the devotion to the Sacred Heart that constitutes the primary aim of the Apostleship of Prayer, but it is a condition of efficacy, a potent means and special means of reaching the goal. The Communion of Reparation, characteristic of the third degree, and the Holy Hour, also peculiar to the Apostleship, are both inseparable from devotion to the Heart of Jesus.

As a matter of fact, the Apostleship of Prayer has come to be the most strenuous and successful promoter of this devotion. To this intimate relationship with the Sacred Heart the Movement chiefly owes its rapid and astounding extension throughout the world. There is nothing better calculated to warm and strengthen in the love of God a world that has grown cold and lost its spiritual energy; nothing that snatches souls more promptly from the snares of the devil; nothing that will unfurl the Standard of Christ the King more triumphantly among nations and in the hearts of men.

PRACTICAL CONCLUSION

GET DOWN TO THE WORK.

Not only on the Cross, but on our altars till the consummation of the world, does Christ offer Himself as Victim of His yearning to save all men. That same Blood that streamed from the Tree of Life is being scattered abroad by thousands of Missionaries and with it is mingled the blood and the sweat and the toil of Christ’s front-line soldiers. Light and Darkness, the Spirit of God and of Evil, Life and Death are now as on Calvary, locked in mortal strife. We, then, must enter the fray, for Christ will conquer not only for us, but with us, and in us. We are Members of a Mystical Christ that continues the battle first waged by the Physical Christ.

Never in all human history perhaps, especially in heathen lands, has the Church been up against such terrific odds and battling more decisively. A mighty army of heroes, unknown, unsung, and cut off from what was nearest and dearest to them in this world: an army entrenched throughout the vast regions of unbelief with only truth and love and sacrifice as their weapons! But (let it be said with pride), never have these soldiers of the Church’s missionary campaign been so generously and universally helped by the faithful in Christian countries. And we, heirs to the Gaelic tradition of generosity and missionary enterprise, shall we not be alive to the pressing need of the hour?

What indeed will those valiant Missionaries do by way of conquest and triumph if behind the lines there is not this continual supply of ammunition and foodstuffs and clothing: this supply of prayer and sacrifice? They will do what earthly soldiers would do, cut off from vital supplies from the rear; perish on the field.

Only when Moses stretched out his arms on the mountaintop interceding for his people before God, did the Israelites make headway against their adversaries. Only when the faithful, like one great Mediator, like active Members of the One Mediator, Jesus Christ, hold high their hands in fervent prayer, will the Church consolidate her past positions and make a successful drive for new ones.

Conversions to the Church have never been so sincere and constant as in times of persecution, simply because the prayers of the faithful were more fervent and were enhanced by the sufferings of martyrdom. It was only after being drenched in sorrow for the fate of her son, Augustine, that St. Monica obtained the grace of his conversion, and so fruitful were her tears that they gave to the Church the greatest of the Fathers. The prayers and sufferings of a St. Teresa in her lonely, windswept cell at Avila are compared, by their efficacy in bringing souls to Christ, to the long and sweated labours of St. Francis Xavier in India and wherever his zeal urged him to trudge.

Prayer and sacrifice! Catholics, of whatever place and social standing! Those of you chiefly whose life is spent in hard work, poverty and sickness: make an offering of those treasures of suffering you possess: unite your lot with the Lot of the Divine Victim on the Cross; unite your suffering heart with the Suffering Heart of Jesus and His sorrowful Mother; and say: “Our Father . . . hallowed be Thy Name. . . . Thy Kingdom come!”

Do not forget that Victory came from self-surrender to the will of the Father; Life proceeded from death. And so it will be with us: it is by means of this Apostleship of prayer and suffering that the Apostles of the Church will advance and conquer for the salvation of souls and the glory of Christ. By means of this Apostleship we shall have found a practical and most satisfactory solution to the great problem of why so many souls are sitting still in the darkness of error and superstition while the Tree of life on Calvary is loaded with fruit.

May the Apostleship of Prayer be established among you as a permanent front of battle for the kingdom of Christ. Rest assured that our Catholic Missions will be the first to reap the fruits thereof.

Nihil Obstat:

Reccaredus Fleming.

Censor Theol. Deput.

Imprimi Potest:

@ Ioannes Carolus,

Archiep. Dublin. Hiberniae Primas.

12/5/1947

********

The Fighting Man

BY ROBERT NASH, S.J

INDEX

MAY I BEGIN this booklet by setting the stage, -if you will allow that hackneyed phrase? I want to picture you to myself, dear reader, sitting this evening at your tea with the wireless turned on, listening-in to the news. Presently there is a pause in the announcer’s speech, he clears his throat slightly, and says in a more than usually impressive tone that he has a surprise item to tell, the world. You lean forward a little, balancing your cup of tea in mid-air, you sign with a frown to three-year-old Jimmy to keep still, and then the message fills your kitchen or dining room.

Radio Eireann proclaims that word has come of the conversion of some notorious enemy and persecutor of the Church. The news strikes the world like a thunder-bolt that such a man has thus, so unexpectedly changed sides. And, the announcement continues, not only has he placed himself under instruction with a view to being received into the Church. It is further to be put on record that his intention is to study for the priesthood.

Surprise is not the word, -that such a man should consecrate himself irrevocably to the defence of the Christ and His Church which hitherto he has execrated. Next morning the paper confirms the report. There are various surmises and various explanations but no one seems able to assign definitely the real reason for so extraordinary an event. Whatever be the explanation one fact has emerged,-it is the truth that this erstwhile bigot, persecutor, tyrant, has received an immense grace to see the error of his ways and to spend the rest of his life in reparation.

Thanks be to God, says every true Catholic heart. You are immensely gratified and your only fear is that the story might prove too good to be true. Something not altogether unlike that did actually take place,-”at the time my story opens,” to revert a second time to a well-worn phrase. Once upon time an avowed enemy and persecutor of Christ’s Church, a man who had sworn he would exterminate Christ’s Name did capitulate in this way. He developed into a most ardent apostle of this Christ and his conversion struck all beholders with amazement and incredulity.

Saul was his name, Saul of Tarsus. As a boy he had been brought up in the narrow, strait-laced ways of the Pharisees. His teacher Gameliel trained him from the cradle to hate and oppose in the domain of religion, anything that savoured of innovation. The boy proved to be a strong, indomitable character, with a will like a bar of steel. So, when he came to hear about this new Prophet with His fantastic ideas, it was little to be wondered at that with his upbringing and natural bent, the blood in his veins boiled with indignation. He was, to be sure, a truly religious man, but his religious sense was suffering very sadly from misdirection. When he heard about Stephen,-some fanatic who had declared himself a follower of Christ and insisted on preaching about Him,-when Saul and his teachers learned this they promptly resolved to track the man down, and silence him forever. Stephen was seized and pelted with stones till he fell before them begging even in death that God would deal mercifully with his murderers.

It was the right course, thought this ardent youth. He was there at Stephen’s death, and while the grown-ups flung the stones, Saul held their coats and encouraged them lustily in their good work. Serve him right, this hair-brained follower of this dreamer of dreams! What had been done to him, would teach the rest of the gang to stop their nonsense. Dare they now continue in their efforts to overthrow the established religion!

It was in this atmosphere and with these ideals that Saul grew into manhood. One day, -he was now about thirty, this fire-eater was riding with a band of soldiers into the city of Damascus. He had demanded this escort from the Sanhedrin at Jerusalem, for the exasperating report had reached his ears that there were men in Damascus professing themselves Christians. Saul’s wrath reached boiling point! . .So the movement was spreading, in spite of all! But obstinacy only thrives on opposition. Saul vowed that not a man would he leave in the city who declared for this Christ. He would have them bound and brought back as prisoners, or, if need be, he would slay them on the spot.

“And as he went on his journey it came to pass that he drew nigh to Damascus. And suddenly a light from heaven shined round about him. And falling to the ground he heard a voice saying to him: ‘Saul, Saul, why persecutest thou Me?’ Who said: ‘Who art Thou, Lord?’ And He: ‘I am Jesus Whom thou persecutest. It is hard for thee to kick against the goad.’

“And he, trembling and astonished said: ‘Lord, what wilt Thou have me to do?’ And the Lord said to him:’Arise and go into the city, and there it shall be told thee what thou must do ‘ . . . And Saul arose, and when his eyes were opened he saw nothing. But they, leading him by the hands, brought him to Damascus.”

Saul stood up a new man. That light shining round about him had sent its rays into the innermost secret places of the man’s soul and revealed him to himself. But it showed him something more. Dazzled though he was as he knelt there on the dusty roadside, he could still shade his eyes and look at the source from which the light was emanating. It was falling upon him from the face of Jesus Christ, from Him Who claimed to be the light of the world, that light which Saul in his infatuation and blindness had hitherto attempted to trample to extinction. But today he sees his mistake. Today he has caught a glimpse of the beauty of that countenance. Today he recognises that that beauty is divine. The Christ Whom Saul was persecuting hitherto, is in very truth the anointed Son of God.

Nothing short of “ an audacious grace “ could win such an unbending character, but once won, all the old zeal and dynamic energy would be let loose again and Saul, now become Paul, would be eaten up with an insatiable craving to din the message into the ears of every man on the face of the earth, and to light in the hearts of all that flame of enthusiasm and personal love for Jesus Christ which had begun to blaze up on that eventful day. The great Jesuit missionary, St. Francis Xavier, is often compared with St. Paul, and of Xavier St. Ignatius used to say that he was the toughest clay he ever had to handle! Both men were of the type that must be great. They would not, could not, be satisfied with half measures. Put them on the road that leads to forbidden pleasures and they will run till they have tasted every sinful delight. Set their feet on the way to God and nothing will daunt them. Greatness they must have, and the higher the pinnacle and the steeper the climb the more do they revel in the effort. Difficulties exist only to be overcome.

Yes, he was of tough fibre. Jesus Whom he had persecuted in his ignorance now becomes, in his new-found knowledge, the Friend and Lover by Whom he is completely captivated, the Model Whom he will imitate, the God Whose message is to be preached in season and out of season, even if the preacher must pay for his preaching with his blood. Jesus Christ is God. Jesus Christ, Who is God, loves men and by His death opened heaven for them. Jesus Christ has deigned to single out this man, this bigot and persecutor, to be His vessel of election, to bear His message to the ends of the earth. In face of this what else can Paul do but allow his heart to be inundated with joy at the honour of being thus chosen? What can he do but stiffen that already strong will of his to face every sacrifice, any sacrifice, to count all things which the world values as so much rubbish, if by this means that fire of love for Christ will be enabled to expand in his great soul, and even burst its boundaries and sweep from him in mighty onrush into the souls of others?

Nothing is easier than to illustrate the grip by which the love of Christ fastened upon Paul’s heart, for the Name he once hated is now ever on his lips. There is no Name he loves to write more; in his letters that Sacred Name occurs more than two hundred times. He might be said to have been transformed into Christ. He can speak of nothing except Christ and His love and His designs for the souls of men. His mind is fed continually with schemes to further the kingdom of Christ. And, having once been thus caught in the toils, Paul is ready and even eager to stand up to every test.

Turn over the pages, casually almost, of those wonderful letters of his, and every page, you might nearly say every line, seems to vibrate with the passionate devotion to Our Lord which now consumes his heart.

Ask this erstwhile hater of Christ what now he values most and you are told: “ The things that were gain to me, the same I have counted loss for Christ. Furthermore, I count all things to be but loss for the excellent knowledge of Jesus Christ my Lord . . .” Question him about his hopes and he tells you his conversation is in heaven, “from whence also we look for the Saviour, our Lord Jesus Christ.” What are the man’s consolations in the midst of trials?” As the sufferings of Christ abound in us, so also by Christ doth our comfort abound.” He preaches with eloquence and conviction,-why? Because his words are inspired by Him Whose love has captivated him. “We preach Christ and Him crucified . . . Jesus Christ the power of God and the wisdom of God.” Christ and Christ’s Cross are his glory,- “God forbid that I should glory save in the Cross of Our Lord Jesus Christ by Whom the world is crucified to me and I to the world.” “I judged not myself to know anything amongst you but Jesus Christ and Him crucified.”

He can say no more than that he lives with the very life of Christ Himself: “I live, now not I, but Christ liveth in me.” His language of devotedness reaches perhaps its climax in the passionate outburst which closes his eighth chapter to the Romans: “Who then shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation? Or distress? Or famine? Or nakedness? Or danger? Or persecution? Or the sword? . . . But in all these, things we overcome, because of Him that hath loved us. For I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor might, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.”

The knowledge and deep personal love of Jesus Christ have become the very core and centre of his existence. And, probing a little more deeply, we find three great truths concerning Jesus of Nazareth which sank into the marrow of his being and which he laboured to preach “ in season and out of season.”

Christ is, first of all, the Model of Paul’s external behaviour. He kept his eyes fixed upon this Man. He scrutinised every single detail pertaining to His life, and then he set himself the task of re-living that life in its external manifestations as perfectly as was possible for a mere man to do. The image of Christ moved always before his eyes, and the question uppermost in his mind was always: “ If He were now in my place, how would He act? If He had to deal with this sinner what would be his treatment? If He were kneeling here in prayer, how would He pray? If Jesus were with me in this prison, in this encounter with the sly, insincere, twisting enemies,-what would He say to them? Would He lash them with invective as He did in the case of the Pharisees and Scribes, or would He keep silence as when He was reviled before Herod? If Jesus were here at this piece of work how would He do it? “

And so in every detail,-waking or sleeping, eating, journeying, alone or in company,-in all these things Jesus moved before the eyes of the apostle and all he wanted was to try constantly to reproduce in himself the manner of acting he beheld in his divine model. “Be ye imitators of me “ he wrote, “ as I am of Him.” Just as an artist labours to transfer to his canvas as perfect a likeness as possible of the model posing for him, so does Paul make it his aim in life to speak and act in all things as he believes Christ would have done.

But Jesus has become much more than this for the apostle. From Him, as from a fountain-head, there flows into the soul a wonderful principle of a new life called sanctifying grace. Hence Paul’s care to maintain close and constant contact with this Christ. In the measure in which this contact is maintained in the same will grace flow from Christ into the soul. And the streams of divine life thus flowing from Christ into the soul will gradually engulf another stream of another life,- the life of selfishness, the life of sin, which raises an obstacle against the expansion of the divine life. Hence Paul chastised his body and faced incessant toil, because he understood very well that by such stern measures only can the sin and selfishness so deeply sunk in his nature be reduced to the state of submissiveness that is proper to them.

And Paul, in the third place, having discovered the blessed sweetness of belonging to Christ, having come to realise the treasures he had been missing, was “urged” by the love of Christ burning within him, to share his treasure with others. This is the explanation of his boundless zeal, of the hunger for souls that consumed him and made him fixed in his resolve to slave as long as there was life in his body in the effort to bring Christ to souls and souls to Christ.

Jesus Christ thus became for the converted Paul, the Model towards which He constantly looked in order to direct himself in his external conduct. Christ became for him, secondly, the source from which he drank in the waters of divine life, those waters of sanctifying grace which, spreading themselves abroad in his soul gradually took possession of those places in the soul which sin had occupied hitherto. And Paul is now driven mightily by the force of Christ’s grace, to spend himself for Christ and the souls He loves with such intensity.

A truly marvellous transformation!

Remember who he had been, the man toughened by his early education, toughened by a character naturally strong and determined, so toughened that he once reviled and loathed that Name,-think of all that and you are not surprised that his conversion was the talk of the countryside, and that many suspected his sincerity. Ananias, a man living in Damascus at the time of the vision, on being told by the Lord to go and meet Saul and restore him his sight, thought fit to expostulate: “Lord, I have heard by many of this man and how much evil he hath done to Thy saints in Jerusalem.” The inhabitants of the town, on learning of the conversion and preaching were sceptical: “Is not this he who persecuted in Jerusalem those who called upon this Name, and came hither for that intent, that he might carry them bound to the chief priests? “You and I might ask the same about our convert in the news, if he entered the ranks of the priesthood. The miracle of grace was not much greater in the case of the man breathing out threatenings and slaughter against the disciples of the Lord. Tough clay!

Every detail of this wonderful man’s story and turning to God should fill you and me with encouragement. I suppose you could not, to begin with, find a more unpromising subject to be transformed into a saint and ardent lover of Christ. He calls himself the greatest of sinners, and he recalls how he persecuted the Church of God and wasted it, “beyond measure.” Now it is quite true that there are saints in the Church’s calendar whose lives edify us indeed but perhaps also make us despair of ever attaining to anything great in the spiritual life ourselves. You will read of those who never sinned grieviously, who seem to have been especially protected by God from infancy. But St. Paul does not belong here. He had a bad record, and that is why his example encourages and inspires.

Sinners we have been, and by all means let us strike our breasts with sincere humility about it. But far be it from us, with the example of Paul before our eyes, to deceive ourselves into the foolish notion that our past must prevent our future. Rather can it help powerfully. Saul would possibly never have been urged by the love of Christ to undertake such herculean labours if he had not been haunted by the memory of what he had done in the past against that great Lover. Life was still his in which to atone, and never did man fling himself more whole-heartedly into the work of atoning.

And let me not imagine that he got there without a struggle. When I read of his great graces I am inclined to say: “ Small thanks to him! See how privileged he was, how his soul was enriched with special graces. Look at the way God revealed Himself to him on the Damascus Road. Read about his visions of heaven. He was wrapt to the third heavens. He was permitted to see into divine secrets to express which mere human language was quite inadquate. All he can tell us is that eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither hath it entered into the heart of man to conceive, what things God hath prepared for those who love him. Small thanks to a man thus privileged to slave for Christ and for souls. If I were so favoured I’m sure I too might hope to be a saint. But as things are . . .”

Now there is a modicum of truth in all this. It is quite true that Paul did receive those special graces and helps. But always remember that he was “a soldier of Christ Jesus,” and no soldier wants to spend his life marking time. Paul was surrounded on every side by enemies,-foes within and without,-but the man that was in him toughened and exulted in the fight for victory.

In proof of this turn again to his account of those stupendous visions with which his soul was favoured. He tells his Corinthians that he was so inundated with light that whether he was in the body or out of the body he knew not. But what he did know was that God vouchsafed to reveal to His servant secrets of heaven so ravishing that his whole being was aflame with divine love. And then, in that very same passage, he goes on to tell about a fierce and persistent temptation which was permitted to assail him “ lest the greatness of the revelations should exalt me.” There was given to him an angel of satan to buffet him, a sting of the flesh to war with him and try to inject its poison. What a source of consolation to those who are trying to follow him but are inclined to be discouraged because this particular temptation seems to be always dogging their steps!

Does Paul allow himself to be discouraged thus? Not a bit of it. In his distress he turns to God in fervent prayer. Three times over he begs and importunes to be delivered. And God refuses deliverance. “ My grace is sufficient for thee. Virtue is made perfect in infirmity.” As though He would say: “I am not going to free you from this troublesome temptation, but what I will do is to give you grace to fight it and conquer.” And Paul, so far from showing the white feather is heartened all the more for the fight. “Gladly therefore will I glory in my infirmities . . . For when I am weak, then I am strong.” He recognises indeed his own weakness, but, what is of infinitely greater importance, he sees too, very clearly, that he has the very strength of Christ Himself to support him in the fight.

Such a man cannot but be a powerful incentive to a holy life. Such a combination between the divine and the human, between strength and weakness, cannot but help those of us who feel at times that we really cannot keep going any longer.

It seems certain that there are many men and women who are good enough Catholics, but they would be somewhere near the saints only for the canker-worm known as human respect. They are ashamed to act up to their consciences, afraid of being laughed at or held up to ridicule by those who object to taking their religion too seriously. Under such criticism a weak character will crumple, but it is in face of opposition or cynicism that the vigour and manliness of sanctity grows to maturity. Hostility should not make a man irritated or testy. He should see that it comes from God’s hand,-like the blows of the chisel on the block of marble,-to beautify the soul all the more.

All this is easy to see in St. Paul. His one concern is to be right in God’s sight. “To me it is a very small thing to be judged by you . . . I am not conscious to myself of anything, yet am I not herein justified. He that judgeth me is the Lord.” So he went on his way placidly, refusing to be beaten when men laughed at him, as they did when he preached in the Areopagus; yielding not when he knew that false brethren were spying upon him; persevering with heroic constancy in the teeth of a whole series of persecutions and trials which he catalogues for his Corinthians. “Of the Jews five times did I receive forty stripes save one; thrice was I beaten with rods; once was I stoned: thrice I suffered shipwreck; a night and a day I was in the depths of the sea. In journeying often, in perils of waters, in perils of robbers, in perils from my own nation, in perils from the Gentiles, in perils in the city, in perils in the wilderness, in perils in the sea, in perils from false brethren. In labour and painfulness, in much watchings, in hunger and thirst, in fastings often, in cold and nakedness . . . at Damascus . . . through a window in a basket was I let down by the wall, and so escaped . . I please myself in my infirmities, in reproaches, in necessities, in persecutions, in distresses, for Christ . . . I seek not the things that are yours, but you . . . I most gladly will spend and be spent myself, for souls . . .”

Admittedly it is hard to stop quoting the words of this intrepid soldier who faced all this undauntedly for the sake of the Christ Whom he glimpsed on the Damascus Road, and for the souls so dear to Him. But enough has surely been said to prove the manliness of St. Paul, and to dispel the silly notion that because he was favoured with visions and special graces that therefore he did not have to fight hard for his crown of glory. Christ and the spread of the Gospel are his one preoccupation. Personal sufferings do not count. Opposition does not matter. He does not care even,-as he writes from his prison in Jerusalem,-if some who preach Christ do so from imperfect motives. “ Some . . . preach out of envy and contention, but some also out of good will, preach Christ; some out of charity . . . and some . . . not sincerely . . . But what then? So that by all means . . . Christ be preached, in this I rejoice and will rejoice.”

And he would not be deterred in his efforts to spread the Gospel by lack of talent. He relies for success, not upon the persuasive words of human wisdom. Brethren,” he reminds the Corinthians, “when I came to you, I came, not in loftiness of speech or of wisdom . . . I judged not myself to know anything among you but Jesus Christ and Him crucified . . . We speak the wisdom of God in a mystery . . . which none of the princes of this world knew.”

There you have him, this giant of Christ, beginning with such a huge handicap, enlightened indeed and strengthened indeed by special graces, but buffeted and attacked on all sides by trials and. infirmities of exceptional magnitude.

What sustained him? Why did he become an apostle? Was it that he was going to gain materially by his apostolate? We have seen that, in the natural order, it brought him nothing but suffering and contradiction. Was it that he tired of the very prosaic existence of the Pharisees, and grew weary of their hair-splitting arguments over points of the law? Did he go out on his missions in order to win renown for himself, to be venerated by the common people as a sort of hero, to hear his praises on every lip? No. For none of these things did Paul care. He became an apostle because on the Damascus Road “he learned Christ.”

On that never-to-be-forgotten day Paul was seized upon by the love and the lovableness of Jesus of Nazareth. On that day he came to understand that Jesus was God. Everything else right and left of that one fact fell away. Paul saw the reality in life; he discerned between the shadow and the substance. The love of Jesus devoured his great heart; hungrily he fed his soul on the knowledge and the love of the God-Man; the yearning to make the whole world see, as he himself sees now, became a kind of torment; Paul could never be the same again, he could never again be even moderate in his love, in his quest for souls personal gain, personal misfortune, personal reputation,-what did he care about these things, if only Jesus was loved more, known better, offended less, if only Paul could call the whole world together and awaken in the hearts of all men a response to the appeal of the Heart of Christ?

We Catholics of today could do with more of his spirit. Saul the persecutor shows us that there is no such thing as a hopeless case. Paul the man of prayer, lifted up into the heights where his soul is bathed in the light divine, lets us see how a loving God forgives and restores us to intimacy if we allow Him. Paul, standing sword in hand, manfully doing battle against the hydra-headed enemies of his soul and the souls of others, gives us to understand that temptation need not alarm us,-on the contrary it must be part of our expected programme as members of the Militant Church. Paul, brave under trials of every sort, refusing to be beaten, rejoicing even and exulting in the very thick of the fray, shows us that it is a privilege to be asked to give to Christ something that really costs.

It would be a mistake, however, to imagine that the apostle was carried away by a blind unreasoning enthusiasm. You will never make a Paul or a Xavier without enthusiasm, but it is the enthusiasm that knows and appreciates thoroughly the sanity of the cause for which it strives.

When Our divine Lord called for volunteers He urged them first to sit down and reckon what the cost was going to be. A king, He said, going to war, will enquire beforehand about the strength of the king who is marching against him. If he finds himself completely outnumbered and sees that the inevitable result must be wholesale slaughter of his men, he will be wise to sue for peace in good time. A man who sets out to build a tower must first of all sit down and calculate the cost. If he has not enough money he ought never to begin to build. Otherwise the half-built tower will stand there an eye-sore, and the man’s enemies will laugh at him for his folly.

So the king considers carefully, and the man estimates the cost. And you too, concludes Our Lord, if you want to come and be an apostle, reckon what the cost is going to be. And what is it? “Unless a man renounce everything that he has, he cannot be My disciple.” Never did any mere man dare to make such a claim. It is true that Christ encourages our frailty by the hope of a reward exceeding great, and that He assures us most emphatically that even in this valley of tears the man who labours generously for Christ discovers, even here, a corner of Paradise. But still the hard saying is never revoked. “Unless a man renounce everything . . .” The apostle sees very clearly that in point of fact the saying is hard. But he discerns farther, for deep personal love of Christ wins his heart. Zeal is not the result of mere intellectual conviction. It is also a fire that blazes up in the heart. Hence the apostle sees and loves passionately, and it is the result of this union that makes him sweep ruthlessly out of his life any obstacle to the development of Christ’s love in his own soul. It is the same combination of conviction and love that drives him forward to crush the enemies of God and to restore to Christ the souls He died to save. “If,” says a Kempis, “if thou reliest more upon thine own reason than upon the virtue that subjects to Jesus Christ, thou wilt seldom or hardly become an enlightened man. For God will have us wholly subject to Him and to transcend all reason by an inflamed love.”

To transcend reason-not to oppose reason. The enlightened man judges by a standard higher than reason. In some such way as vision transcends faith, in the same would the light vouchsafed to a man like St. Paul rise above the light of mere reason. No mere dry calculating service will drive a man to undertake the labours and fastings and hardships we have seen in the apostle’s life. The conviction is there indeed,- as the dry faggots are on the hearth,-but it takes the spark of personal love and enthusiasm to set the fire ablaze.

In the first part of our paper we were concerned mainly with the element of personal love which characterised his apostolate. Now it is in place to study the principles, the intellectual convictions which lay at the base of this deep affection for the man Christ Jesus. These too, must be of immense help to us who are so needed by the Church in the trials and dangers surrounding her in these days.

Now I find in the account of Paul’s conversion that there are three fundamental principles implied, and on these the great apostle’s future labours will rest as on a secure support. There is, first of all, Saul’s own question to Christ,- “Lord what wilt Thou have me to do?”

All true zeal must, therefore, begin with a determination to preserve an unquestioning obedience to the will of God. In this place we are not thinking so much of the Will of God as made known clearly in the Ten Commandments. A man who would pretend to be keen on Christ’s interests must take for granted that his devotion to Him is counterfeit unless it be accompanied by at least a serious and consistent effort to avoid sin.

But enlightened zeal is quick to detect also what is called the will of God’s “good pleasure.” A parent who loves does not wish to be always issuing commands, and a loving child will be on the watch to do for the parent little gracious acts of thoughtfulness for the mere purpose of giving pleasure to the parent. Now God, our loving Father, has assigned each of us a vocation in life. For one person that vocation is the priesthood or the religious state, for another it is married life, and with it a certain profession or trade. Now within that vocation there is a way of living a life of very intense devotion to the Will of God.

Take two girls in an office, or two doctors, or two fathers or mothers of families. One of these, in each case, does her or his job just to make a living, or to attain to success, or to satisfy a perfectly legitimate desire of the human heart, namely to be settled down and have a home and family. But these motives are merely natural, though obviously they are not sinful motives. Suppose that girl behind that counter could train herself to see her work and position as an indication of the Will of God. Suppose that in that exacting employer, whom perhaps you rightly consider unjust or a perfect “crank,”-suppose that in him, none the less you saw a man who had over you an authority from God. What a change that must make at once! Granted that he is rude, unkind, snappy, it still remains true that what he tells you to do or not to do, is the expression of God’s Will in your regard! God actually speaks to you through him, Therefore you do or avoid, not because you will get into trouble, not because you might lose your job,-at least that is not your principal motive. What is it? My eagerness to do God’s Will, and my recognition of that Will in the behests of this ungracious, thankless man,-who takes His place.

Again. You are father or mother. Mother has to look after the house, wash the dishes, make the beds, cook the dinner. Why? Because God has placed her in that state of life, and these duties she does as perfectly as possible as being an indication of what He wishes her to do. It is quite surprising how this power to recognise God’s Will in the commonplace elevates everything you do, and gives a new and refreshing turn to your whole life.

Father in the family does his day’s work outside in the same spirit,-not merely to support his family, but to support his family because supporting a family is what God wants him to do. His day’s toil, be it as humble as breaking stones, is thus super-naturalised and filled with new meaning and new value. “Lord, what dost Thou want me to do?” Zeal must rest on unswerving loyalty to His Will, and that Will can be found in the duties of my state of life.

It is clear from this too, that zeal which is exercised at the cost of sacrificing what is God’s Will, is not the genuine article. If God’s Will for a mother is to be giving breakfast to her family, she should not be at Mass. If God’s Will for me is to sit in my office and type out these tiresome lists, it is wrong for me to close down half an hour before time in order to visit the sick or help the poor. If God’s Will assigns to me the duty of breaking stones He definitely wants me breaking stones rather than kneeling before Him in the Tabernacle.

“Lord, what wilt Thou have me to do?” When Saul asked the question, Our Lord directed him to go into the city and there he would be told. At Damascus Ananias came, instructed by God, and delivered to Saul his instructions. Why did not Christ tell Saul directly Himself? He might easily have done so, but it is His way to employ secondary agents. Merit is thus increased. Saul obeyed Ananias, you obey that impossible employer, but ultimately both of you are obeying God Himself. Small thanks to you to obey if Christ Himself was sitting there in that shop or office and telling you what to do, but to bend your will and cheerfully to submit when His instructions come through such a channel may not be easy, but it is the test of your zeal and devotedness to God’s Will.

Does not all this throw much light on the perfect Model of true zeal, Jesus Christ? He summed up His life’s task in one sentence,-” the things that are pleasing to My Father I always do.” At the end He could say, as He sat there at the Last Supper: “Father, I have finished the work which Thou gavest Me to do.” Yet, there was much left undone. What had He achieved, after all? Not much as the world estimates achievement. He had spent most of His life hidden away in despised Nazareth, and when at last He did come out and show Himself to the world, He antagonized the people with power and influence, and drew after Him “only” the poor and the ignorant. Even these ran away at the end and Jesus died “a failure” on Calvary. “A failure?”-what an immense source of consolation that word spells when applied to Him! Think of the thousands of hidden souls in a big city,-living unnoticed and unknown, but they love Him and spend their days and their nights trying to atone to Him for the ingratitude of the greater number. A failure? Go into the hospitals or visit the homes of the sick, and count up those thousands whose days pass uneventfully, often with no prospect of “recovery, years perhaps lying in that position and unable to move without assistance. There is a great mystery in such “ failures “ as there is a great mystery in the “ failure “ of Calvary, and the only key to unlock the mystery is a perception of the truth that nothing is of the smallest importance except is so far as it is God’s Will. “Lord what wilt Thou have me to do?”

There is a second searching principle to be learned on the Damascus Road. Our Lord said to Saul: “Saul, Saul, why persecutest thou Me? . . . I am Jesus Whom thou persecutest.” Herein is revealed to Saul the doctrine of the Mystical Body which ever afterwards was to be so near to his heart, and which he would expound so wonderfully in his letters and spoken word. The truth comes home to him as he kneels here on the ground that all he has been doing,-crushing those Christians, causing them to suffer and die,-all that is actually done to Jesus Himself. “I am Jesus Whom thou persecutest.”

Why is this except that Christians and Christ are so closely united, that-to use the analogy which Paul will later use himself,-they form one great body. As in the human body there are many members, and all the members help each other, and all the members are enriched with the same life blood,- so does the grace of God’s Holy Spirit flow from Christ into the souls of those who are united with Him, and He and they form altogether one great organism, the Mystical Body of Christ. How well suited to the needs of our times is this sublime concept is abundantly proved by the masterly exposition of the doctrine contained in the latest Encyclical of our Holy Father. When the world is torn to shreds by hatred, the voice of Pius XII is raised to remind men of their dignity as brothers of Christ and of each other, as sons of God the heavenly Father.

This lofty principle too, opens up immense fields for true zeal. I suppose that at least sometimes you find people trying. They get on your nerves; some mannerism of theirs irritates you and you explode with annoyance. Now the way to correct that is not so much to try to check it,-although of course you certainly must try to do that too. But all true reformation comes from within. What is wrong in your case is your attitude towards that person, who, in point of fact quite probably is a bore, or unreasonable, or exceedingly selfish. No amount of talk will convince you that he is anything else, nor are you expected to be blind to his glaring faults. Charity, says St. Paul, is patient and kind, but he never said it was blind. But if through prayer and meditation you can train yourself to discern Christ behind that person who torments you; to see and realise that the queer fads contain an immense grace for your soul, that they are permitted by Our Lord to remain and give you a fine opportunity of laying up treasure in heaven,-if you can, through prayer and meditation, work your mind round to that point of view, most of your difficulty is going to solve itself. But,-it takes time!

Not only will you have patience but there will spring up in your heart a really sincere love for every man and woman upon whom your two eyes rest. You will always be looking, not merely at a human being, but at a being whose soul is God’s Tabernacle. This engenders patience, reverence, genuine affection. How could it be otherwise? It prevents harshness, tale-bearing, throwing ridicule on another, censoriousness, cynicism, in a word anything that would deliberately cause pain. And once more how could it be otherwise? If I recognise the implications of the sublime doctrine of the Mystical Body and realise that what I say or think or do, is said or done to Jesus Christ,-how then can I fail to give to others a genuine love which will prove itself at every turn?

No wonder Our Lord gave this doctrine as the test par excellence of discipleship with Him. “This is My commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you.” No wonder that it forms the substance of much of St. Paul’s teaching. “Love is the fulfilling of the Law.” And no wonder that a man or woman whose mind feeds habitually on this thought will be ready to face any toil or suffering for another. And what is such readiness but zeal?

To see Christ in others, no matter how effectively He may be disguised, To love Christ in others no matter how much they fail to express in themselves His lovable qualities. To reverence .Christ in others, and adore Him present in their souls, even when they themselves think little of their dignity, nay more, when they drag it in the mud. To serve Christ in others when I see they are selfish and using me as a tool for their own ends. To pass over a slight and pretend not to see, to show special affection towards one who I know has ridiculed or detracted or calumniated me in my absence, to go out of my way to make much of somebody for whom nobody cares. To do these things because the love of Christ has seized upon my heart, and because I recognise Him in the souls of those around me,-this is the true zeal learned by Saul on the Damascus Road. This is the second principle,, and by it and by it alone, may Catholics hope to win back the world to sanity and to Christ.

Finally, Our Lord told Saul: “It is hard for thee to kick against the goad.” As though He would say: “Saul, I am offering you so powerful a grace today, that, although it will leave you free, as grace always does, either to yield to Me or to persist in your own way,-still so strong is it, that to refuse is going to be exceedingly difficult.”

There are times when a loving Christ appeals with more than usual insistence. There are special moments when He seems to beg us to make use of the graces He longs to pour into our souls. Such a moment came into Paul’s life here on the Damascus Road. Such a moment may well come for you or me when we are stretched upon a bed of sickness, when mission or retreat is preached in our parish, or when we stand brokenhearted over the mortal remains of one who was very dear to us, and, standing there we recognise the instability of everything that this poor world holds as precious.

At such moments it is hard to kick against the goad. Hard, yes, but still it remains true that resistance is still possible. Divine grace will argue with us. It will plead with us. It will upbraid us with our infidelities and ingratitude. But force our will,-that is what grace will never do. God stands back always and manifests a deep respect for the gift of freewill which He bestowed upon man. It may indeed be hard to reject such a mighty grace from the loving Christ, but resistance remains, none the less, a fearful possibility.

One day Our Lord sat upon the brow of a hill overlooking Jerusalem. He folded His hands upon His knees and turned a wistful gaze in the direction of the faithless city. “Jerusalem, Jerusalem, thou that killest the prophets and stonest them that are sent to thee, how often would I have gathered together thy children as the hen doth gather her chickens under her wings, and thou wouldst not.” He longed to redeem that city from its sin, but He waited for the city freely to accept Him. And He waited in vain and Jerusalem paid the terrible penalty of her rejection of Christ. “It is hard for thee,”-even Saul was free to continue on his course.

“It is hard for thee to kick against the goad.” There is still another way of interpreting these words. Our Lord by them reminds Saul that if he does resist he is going to be a very miserable man. “If you refuse this grace you will reap as a reward of your obstinacy nothing but sadness and unhappiness.” And again experience bears witness to the truth of that word. Look at this man enslaved by passion, groaning under a load of ‘depression and self-contempt and remorse and shame. Happy is he? And to such as him the loving merciful Christ offers a grace to break his chains.

Such a joy comes back into that man’s soul if he acts up to his conscience! There will probably be “hard” struggles but every victory brings him more courage and more assurance of ultimate victory. On the other hand let him sell the pass and the instantaneous effect is despondency, a crushing conviction that his case is hopeless. Every priest knows that one of the most difficult foes to be met with after a serious lapse into sin is discouragement. “It is hard” indeed. Sin takes a big toll, even in this life, in the bitterness and unrest it leaves in its wake.

We know that Saul, in point of fact, did not “kick against the goad.” He yielded on that momentous day, to the first promptings of grace within him. And, as the years went on, he learned more and more about this wonderful principle. Indeed he has come to be called “the doctor of divine grace.”

And what does this doctrine imply? First of all it leads a man to understand with a clarity too penetrating for him to express, that of himself he has nothing of good. Hence Paul asks his Corinthians: “What hast thou that thou hast not received? And if thou hast received it, why dost thou glory as if thou hadst not received?” There is absolutely nothing good in any of us except what He has put into us. More than that, we cannot have even a single good desire, much less carry that good desire into effect, unless helped along all the way by divine grace.

Should we therefore lose heart? Not at all, for while on the one hand it is true that we are so useless and helpless, it is also an inspiring and comforting thought that through the grace of Christ we can vanquish every enemy. “I can do all things in Him that strengtheneth me,”-there is, the complementary truth. In my utter weakness I cannot stand, but the strong sustaining hands of my Christ are ready to support me.

I cannot keep away from that bad companion,-without Christ’s grace. I cannot keep that pledge,-without Christ’s grace. I cannot get out of bed on a Sunday morning and go to Mass,-unless He comes with His grace to enable me to do so. “Underneath are the ever-lasting arms.”

But it is also true that I can command tremendous sources of strength, for all the infinite wealth of Christ’s merits are there to supplement my poverty. It is true that we are reduced to pauperism except that a merciful generous Christ gives us abundant alms, and, so far from giving it grudgingly, He warns us to keep coming and to keep asking and He goes the length of assuring us that He never will turn us away.

Paul’s zeal was maintained in the second place by his vivid grasp of the truth about Christ’s Mystical Body,-”Why persecutest thou Me? . . . I am Jesus Whom thou persecutest”; and lastly it was built up on the knowledge he had of the need and the power of divine grace,-”it is hard for thee to kick against the goad.;

With such an intellectual background directing my zeal I can understand why Paul teaches me that a whole-hearted service of God and an unqualified acceptance of the apostolate is, pre-eminently “a reasonable service,” “I beseech you, therefore, brethren; by the mercy of God that you present your bodies a living sacrifice, holy, pleasing unto God, your reasonable service.” Anything else is unreasonable. This is how Paul was schooled. His mind was convinced, his heart was set on fire. The result is that he stands before us as a man of God, an intrepid warrior, a lover only asking to be allowed prove the sincerity of his love.

Nihil Obstat: Carolus Doyle, S. J. Censor Theol. Deput.

Imprimi Potest: @ Joannes Carolus, Archiep. Dublinen,

Hiberniae Primas.

1/4/1944

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The Foundation of Catholic Belief

REV J. PURCELL

INDEX

FOREWORD

This booklet has been compiled with the idea of bringing together briefly in one place the matters which form the foundation of Catholic belief.

It is intended for Catholics who may wish to refresh their memory on things already learned. It may make clearer what was not fully grasped in younger days, especially the reason why we are so certain of the truth in all that the Church teaches.

It is possible the booklet will be a help to some non-Catholic readers in understanding the basis of the Catholic Faith. That would be a most welcome result.

Once a person grasps the fact that the Catholic Church is God’s mouthpiece to men, planned and arranged deliberately by Our Divine Lord before His Ascension into Heaven, so that through it His voice would continue to reach men until the end, then the acceptance of the Catholic Faith united with its full practice is clearly seen to be the complete carrying out of God’s will.

Our Lord in His mortal life gave the perfect example of devotedness in doing the Will of God. It was what He desired above all that men should do. “Blessed are they who hear the word of God and keep it.”

GOD

Religion supposes the fact of God’s existence. The word ‘religion’ means “that which binds us to God.” It leads us to take account of Him in our lives and to discharge our duties to Him.

The fact of God’s existence is something that man can know by the use of reason alone. There are to be found atheists who deny the existence of God. They have always formed a small minority of the human race, for although through the ages men have had many different ideas about the kind of Being God is, yet the human race as a whole at all times has had no doubt about His existence. Some of the minority who profess to be atheists do so because they see that to acknowledge God’s existence would be to acknowledge a law of God and they wish to be a law unto themselves. Others have grown up with a prejudice against religion, perhaps because of what they consider injustice done them by people professing to be religious, and will have nothing to do with God or religion. Very few are atheists as a result of conviction born of deliberate reasoning about the existence of God.

The vast majority of men by what one may call the normal use of reason have seen that God exists.

Different lines of thought bring men to know this. If you go into a modern factory you will see there a collection of wonderful machinery. If you are not familiar with machinery, some one may explain to you how each machine works. You will admire the genius of the man who invented each machine you inspect, seen in his planning it, having the various parts made, fitting them together, getting the whole into working order to produce the thing he intended the machine to produce.

You would laugh at the idea that any such machine could be the result of chance, even the result of flinging together in a heap the parts of which it is made. You know that an intelligent being, a very intelligent one, was necessary to account for it.

Now in the world around us among the things of nature, as we say, there are many things far more wonderful than the most wonderful works of man. We do not have to go beyond ourselves for an example. The human body is more wonderful than any man-made machine. Each part performs a function which it was obviously intended for. The eyes were made for seeing, the ears for hearing, the heart to pump the life-blood of man through his body. The wonderful levers which we call the hands and legs were made for movement. There is the digestive system by which the body is built up and conserved. There is the marvellous power which man has of reproducing his kind. All these things and the rest that make up the human body demand an intelligent Being to account for them and could be far less the result of chance than the most complicated of man-made machines.

We think a camera is a remarkable invention, but it is nothing in comparison with the human eye. If it needed an intelligent being to account for it, much more does the eye of man, and, of course, the whole of the human body. This applies to the numberless and often extremely complicated things of the animal and vegetable kingdoms, too.

Again, we can reason to God’s existence in a somewhat different way. You know in what numbers and how frequently the trains come in to a modern central railway station. Yet they come in in the most orderly fashion and an accident is practically an unheard of thing in the process.

Of course it is the signalling system, which may be an automatic one, that is responsible for the order. You know what would happen if the drivers just started their trains and let them run on, paying no regard to signals.

It is obvious that an intelligent being is required to “work out” any signalling system. It is the direct opposite of leaving things to chance. If a signalling system, which preserves the order we witness, works automatically it merely demands a higher degree of intelligence than a simpler system.

Now let us look at the universe of which our earth forms part. We think, even in these days, that the earth is a big place. Yet compared with other heavenly bodies it is very small. The sun is over a million times the size of the earth and situated some 92,000,000 miles away. Yet the sun itself is only a small star compared with so many other heavenly bodies which are at far greater distances from us.

Besides the size of the heavenly bodies and their vast distances from one another there is their colossal number. Each improvement of the telescope brings yet more and more of them under the notice of man, so that their number seems as if it had no limit. The heavenly bodies have movements of their own and move, too, in relation to one another, and the whole number is moving through space at immense speed, some hundreds of times faster than the speed of a shell fired from the best of the ordinary type of gun.

Yet the whole universe moves with the utmost order and regularity. So regular is it that scientists can, for example, calculate accurately when an eclipse of the sun will occur in the future or has occurred in the past.

Now if the signalling system at a great railway station—all the more wonderful if it is automatic—speaks to us of the high intelligence demanded to account for the order with which the many and frequent trains arrive, all the more does the order in the universe demand an intelligent Being to account for it.

There is a line of thought leading to the knowledge of God’s existence which the greatest of the ancient philosophers considered conclusive. In the world around us, there is nothing, including ourselves, which can explain itself. Everything we know in the visible world depends on something else for its existence. Thus it has always been, within the knowledge of man.

A man depends for his life on his parents and they in turn on their parents and so on. The plant depends on a seed or shoot of some other plant. Even lifeless things like minerals and precious stones cannot explain themselves, but depend on chemical action and pressure brought to bear from outside. So it has always been in the experience of man. There never has been anything that could explain itself. Everything depends on something else, and has not the reason of its existence in itself.

Now, if you want an explanation of this long line of dependent things, you must come to some supremely independent Being, existing of necessity, Who depending on nothing outside Himself for His existence and therefore being uncaused existed always, and is the One responsible for that long series of dependent things which cannot explain themselves yet need explanation and demand an intelligence to account for them. This Being is God.

God is eternal—He always was and always will be—because He exists of necessity and with complete independence and so, owing His existence to none, never began to be and will never cease to be. Because of His supreme independence He is infinite, unlimited in His being and in His power, for there is none to hedge Him in in any way.

God is a spirit. He is in no way material. Anything material is made up of parts and needs something outside itself to bring those parts together. But God is dependent on nothing outside Himself for His existence and so is nonmaterial. A non-material intelligent being is a spirit-a living being with free will and understanding not needing a body to make up its nature.

(Footnote: If we find it difficult to conceive the idea of a spiritual being it may help us to recall that we have a spiritual part in our own nature, namely our soul. We know we have a body because we can see it. We can be as certain we have a soul, because we do things which our body cannot account for, but which of their nature demand a spiritual, a non-material source. We can conceive abstract ideas. From a number of beautiful things, for example, we get the idea of “beauty,” a non-material thing. We have consciousness of what we are doing. We can be conscious even of the act of thinking. These actions, along with the exercise of free-will including love, come from the spiritual part of ourselves, which we call our soul. No material part of us can account for them.)

Such then is God as seen by the light of reason. He is the supreme intelligent Being, spiritual, eternal, infinite, to Whom we along with all other things owe our existence.

REVELATION

Man, along with all other things, owes his existence to God. He therefore belongs to God. He is God’s.

Now God must have had a purpose in making man. Being supremely intelligent He could not act blindly like a machine, for that would be against His nature. His purpose in making man must have been in some way connected with Himself and His own honour, for His action could not have been forced upon Him by anything outside Himself.

Since man is God’s and exists for God, it is his duty to do what God has made him for. To do that he must find out just how he is to live for God and to honour Him. Man cannot rightly live as he pleases, taking no account of God in the use of his life. If he so lives, be fails in the very purpose of his existence, which is for God. By the use of reason alone man could know much of his duty to God. However, the human race as a whole, left to itself, failed to find out clearly what man’s duty to God was. (There is a reason for that and it is to be found in original sin and the fall of the human race, although we are merely concerned here with the fact, not the reason for it.)

Since the duty of honouring God by one’s life remained, we might expect that God Himself would make known how it was to be done, seeing that men failed to learn it themselves. Moreover, in the supposition that God wanted men to know things about Himself which they could not possibly know by the use of reason alone, it would be necessary for Him to make these things known. There can be no doubt that God could so enlighten men. He Himself gave them the power to pass on their thoughts and the knowledge they acquired to other men, so He Himself could make known to them anything He wished them to know.

The question is did He make Himself known or reveal Himself, and if so how did He do it? God did reveal Himself and make known what He desired of men. He enlightened certain men and sent them as His messengers to other men. Such were the prophets of the Old Law and such in a special way was Our Lord Jesus Christ.

As men could reasonably ask by what right those claiming to speak in the name of God expected to be believed, God gave to those who truthfully claimed to speak for Him (for not all those who made the claim did so truthfully) certain signs, by which it could be known for certain that they came from Him.

These signs were the power to work miracles and the power to make prophecies. A miracle is an event, visible to the senses, above the order of nature of such a kind that it can be put down to God alone. To raise the dead to life for instance, as Our Lord Jesus Christ is related to have done in the case of Lazarus who was four days dead and whose body was already corrupting, is something quite beyond human power and could be possible by the power of God alone. To cure leprosy by a mere word is likewise something quite beyond human power. Leprosy can be cured sometimes only and after a period of treatment. To cure it as Our Lord is related to have done in response to a leper’s request, “If You will, You can make me clean,” by the mere words, “I will: be you made clean” is something beyond human power and possible only to God’s power.

Similarly to foretell in detail future events which are quite beyond human knowledge or guess-work is for those who see them come to pass evidence that they were foretold under divine enlightenment, for God alone can know future events including those which depend for their fulfilment on the free will of man.

Now, the prophets of the Old Law and in a special way Our Lord Jesus Christ claimed to speak to men in the name of God bearing His message to them. In support of that claim they often worked miracles and made true prophecies. These things, possible only to divine power, showed that they had the divine backing, that God was with them and using His power through them. Such things showed, when appealed to in support of the claim to speak for God, that that claim was made truthfully and that what was spoken was spoken in God’s name.

We, as Christians, are particularly interested in the claims of Our Lord Jesus Christ, and in what He taught of God’s plan for man and man’s duty towards God. To learn of Our Lord and His teaching we must go to the Gospels. which give the history of His life.

THE GOSPELS

The written record which we have of Our Lord’s life, His claims, and His teachings is contained in the four Gospels. They were written approximately between the years 50 and 100 A.D., St. Matthew’s being the first written and St. John’s the last.

With the exception of St. Matthew’s Gospel, they were written in Greek, then a universal language. St. Matthew wrote in Aramaic, the language used in Palestine in Our Lord’s time. But an early Greek translation gives us his Gospel, which has not come down to us in its original Aramaic.

The original Gospels written by the very Evangelists themselves do not exist, but many copies of them, some going back to the early fourth century, give us what they wrote. (Preserved pages from whole Gospels going back to at least 150 A.D., have also been recently unearthed.)

It is not to be wondered at that the original Gospels themselves did not endure, as they were written on a comparatively flimsy kind of paper, made from the pith of the papyrus reed; but when parchment began to be widely used for writing on, greater durability was given to the written word.

Many other ancient writings besides the Gospels have come down to us, some of them dating back to times before Our Lord’s coming. These include the works of history, poetry, philosophy and the rest which were the products of ancient Greece and Rome. Some of them are studied today by students of the classical languages. None of the manuscript copies of these works dates back as far as the oldest copies we have of the Gospels, nor are they by any means as numerous. Yet scholars accept them as genuinely reproducing the works composed in antiquity.

There is more reason for accepting the Gospels as the genuine writing of those who were in a position to know Our Lord’s life, than there is for accepting as genuine the other ancient writings which all scholars receive.

It would be hard to find other ancient documents so well known soon after they were written as the Gospels were. They are quoted from again and again by the earliest Christian writers and soon we are told about them and their authors. The words of St. Irenaeus, Bishop of Lyons (+202) are an example of this latter point. He came from the east and was a disciple of St. Polycarp, who lived at the same time as St. John the Apostle.

He tells us that Matthew, Mark, Luke and John, each wrote a Gospel.

The Gospels themselves ring true. It is beyond possibility that both the character of Our Lord and the nobility of His teachings as set out in the Gospels could be the result of an invention intended to mislead men. They are not written in a way calculated to win popular favour at the time of their first appearance, for they make many demands of men in themselves little in keeping with human inclination. Their writers have little or nothing to say directly of themselves. What little there is seems mostly to their discredit. They were obviously not seeking a reputation for themselves.

Many of the events they narrate are very wonderful, yet they were accepted as true by those in a position to investigate closely their truthfulness. The Gospels also find support from the history of secular events recorded elsewhere.

All these things go to prove that the Gospels are genuine and contain the truth. We must accept them as the real history of Our Lord’s life and teaching.

JESUS CHRIST IS GOD

As the Gospels make clear, Our Lord Jesus Christ claimed to teach men with divine authority. “My testimony is true . . . because I am not alone, but the Father that sent Me is with me . . . and the Father that sent Me gives testimony of Me” (John 8:14; 16–18); “I am come in the name of my Father” (John 5:43).

He claimed to speak in a way meant for the whole world. “This Gospel shall be preached in the whole world” (Matt. 24:14). Later to the apostles He said: “Going, teach all nations. Preach the Gospel to every creature” (Matt. 28:19; Mark 16:15 ).

He said that men must heed Him, under pain of being finally condemned if they did not. “He that believes not, shall be condemned” (Mark 16:16).

These were extraordinary claims to make, yet they were not the greatest of His claims. He claimed also to be more than man. He claimed to be God.

If that claim is true there will be no difficulty in accepting the others, and His right to teach the whole world and to demand that men accept His teaching will be quite clear.

That claim is true. Jesus Christ is God because He claimed to be God and He proved His claim to be true.

Jesus Christ claimed to be God.

He said to the Jews on one occasion, “I and the Father are one” (meaning “one being”), and we are told that they took up stones to cast at Him “for blasphemy, because that you, being a man, make yourself God” (John 10:30–33).

On another occasion when the leaders of the Jews took exception to Our Lord’s curing the infirm man by the pool of Bethesda on the Sabbath, maintaining that He was breaking the Sabbath, He said to them: “My Father works until now and I work” (John 5:17), claiming that just at the Father having created all things, kept them in being by the exercise of His power, Sabbath day and all, so too He was as independent as the Father in what He did, even on the Sabbath day. The Jews when they heard this reply “sought the more to kill him because He did not only break the Sabbath but also said that God was His Father making Himself equal to God” (John 5:16–18).

On yet another occasion Our Lord told the Jews that Abraham the founder of their race (who had lived some 2000 years before) had looked forward to the day of His coming and rejoiced at the thought of it. The Jews said to Our Lord: “You are not yet fifty years old, and have You seen Abraham?” He replied: “Before Abraham was made, I am” (John 8:58). They took up stones to cast at Him for this reply. In it, besides claiming to exist before His life on earth began, He used words of Himself such as God had used to Moses when asked by Moses who He was. He had said: “I am who am,” that is “I am the one who exists in the fullest sense of the word, independently of all else.”

Again in His prayer after the Last Supper Our Lord addressed His Father “Glorify You Me, O Father . . . with the glory which I had, before the world was, with You” (John 16:5).

Addressing the Father once more He said: “All My things are Yours, and Yours are Mine” (John 17:10), even as we read of His telling the apostles at an earlier time, “No one knows the Son but the Father, neither does anyone know the Father but the Son” (Matt. 11:27). By these words He puts Himself on the same level as the Father. He claims that He alone knows the Father fully. To do this He must be divine, for no merely human being could know God fully or put himself on the same level as God.

When some months before His death He asked the apostles who men thought He was, they told Him some of the current opinions men had of Him. When He asked them what they thought, St. Peter replied: “You are the Christ, the Son of the Living God” (Matt. 16:16). Then Our Lord pronounced him blessed and told him He knew this not by any human knowledge, but by the direct divine enlightenment of the Father Himself. If St. Peter had merely meant that Our Lord was a “son of God” in the way in which any devout Jew would consider himself to be, he would not have needed any special divine enlightenment to know this of Our Lord. He must, therefore, by Our Lord’s own words have meant something more than this. He could have meant only that Our Lord was the true Son of God, having Himself the divine nature, and so that He was God.

Before the High Council of the Jews when Our Lord was brought in after His betrayal, the high priest sought for witnesses whose word would lead to His condemnation, but without success. Finally, he put Our Lord on His oath to say if He were “the Christ the Son of God.” When Our Lord replied that He was, the high priest accused Him of blasphemy and all on that score decided He should be put to death. (Matt. 26:63). There would be no question of blasphemy—speaking in a way gravely dishonouring God—if Our Lord and the high priest had merely meant “son of God” in a sense in which any Jew might claim the title for himself. There was question here of much more—of a claim to be the real Son of God, having the divine nature, and so to be God.

When we remember Our Lord’s forgiving sins in His Own name and for sorrow shown in His regard, as He did in the case of Mary Magdalen, and when we remember His claiming to be the Light of the World and the very Truth itself, we see that He acted in a way no mere man could, and claimed for Himself what no mere man could claim.

It is important to remember how Our Lord’s words were understood. We find that both His friends and His enemies understood Him to claim to be God. The Jews sought to kill Him and in the end condemned Him to death because they understood that He, a man, was making Himself God. The apostles understood His claim in the same way. In the introduction to his Gospel St. John says: “In the beginning was the Word (when creation began the Word—Whom he later identifies with Our Lord—already existed), the Word was with God and the Word was God,” and then, “the Word was made flesh (became man) and dwelt among us, and we saw His glory, the glory as it were of the only-begotten of the Father, full of grace and truth” (John 1:1–14). The Word then was God and the Word was made flesh and dwelt among us. St. Thomas, after his doubts concerning Our Lord’s Resurrection had vanished, hailed Him: “My Lord and My God” (John 20:28). In St. Paul’s Epistles we find the apostle saying of Our Lord: “Who being in the form of God thought it not robbery to be equal with God” (Phil. 2:6) and “Christ . . . Who is over all things God blessed for ever” (Rom 9:5), and in other places referring to Him in a way that could be used only of God.

It is clear, then, that by both His friends and His enemies Our Lord’s words were understood to claim for Himself that He was divine.

We believe that Our Lord is God not merely because He claimed to be God, but because He also proved that His word is true.

The truth of Our Lord’s word is clear first of all from His perfect character as man. Even those who do not accept Christianity admit that Christ was the most perfect man who ever walked this earth. We must therefore believe He is the soul of truth and honour and accept His word including His claim to be God, or else say that the most perfect of men was either a liar or suffering from self deception. Either idea is, of course, quite untenable. His word is to be accepted as true.

Again, there are Our Lord’s miracles which prove that He had the divine backing for what He said. He raised the dead to life, He cured the lepers by a mere word, He healed the sick, sometimes even when they were not present, but had friends or relations who came to Our Lord and besought His help on their behalf. He fed the multitudes in the desert on a few loaves and fishes. By His word He calmed the stormy sea.

All these things and other like them were beyond human power to accomplish. Our Lord appealed to His works as a reason why men should believe in Him. “Though you will not believe me, believe the works. The works that I do give testimony of me” (John 10:38&25). That was reasonable, for they showed at least that His Father in Heaven was working through Him, backing Him up, as it were, by putting His power at Our Lord’s disposal. So His miracles show that His words had the divine authority behind them; that His claim to be divine, as well as other things He said, was vouched for by His Father in Heaven.

In a special way the Resurrection of Our Lord from the dead proves His divinity.

Our Lord on several occasions foretold the manner of His death and that on the third day He would rise again (Matt. 17:9; 20:18 & 19). When He did this He gave men the best of all opportunities to test the truth of His word. If He did not rise again after foretelling that He would, then men need no longer believe Him. But if He did rise again, this was so extraordinary a thing to foretell and have come to pass that His word would be proved true beyond any shadow of doubt.

Our Lord died on the Cross. The soldiers sent to hasten the death of the three crucified on Good Friday found Our Lord already dead. The scourging itself had brought Him close to death. One of the soldiers, however, to make sure, ran his spear into Our Lord’s side. When Joseph of Arimathea asked Pilate’s leave to take Our Lord’s body for burial, Pilate sent for the Centurion who had been at Calvary to make sure that He was already dead, and when the officer reported that He was, Pilate gave permission for His friends to take His body.

The next day the chief priests and Pharisees came to Pilate saying: “That seducer said while He was yet alive ‘After three days I will rise again’ “ (Matt. 27:63). They therefore asked Pilate that the sepulchre be guarded lest His disciples come and take His body and say He was risen. They were satisfied that Our Lord was dead and then bore witness, too, to His prophecy that He would rise again.

On the Sunday morning the holy women, coming to the sepulchre to complete the embalming of Our Lord’s body, found the stone rolled back from the entrance and the tomb empty. They were told by an angel that Our Lord had risen. It was not long before He began to appear to His followers.

First He appeared to Mary Magdalen, then to the other holy women, to St. Peter, to the two disciples going to Emmaus and also to the ten apostles gathered together, Thomas being absent. The apostles would not believe it was He. He invited them to feel Him, for “a spirit had not flesh and bones as they saw Him to have” (Luke 24:39) and He even ate with them, so that they could no longer doubt it was He, bodily present. However, they could not convince Thomas on his return. He demanded to be enabled to put his finger into the place of the nails in Our Lord’s hands and his hand into His side before he would believe. A week later Our Lord came to His apostles again and gave Thomas the opportunity to do what he had demanded. He fell at the feet of Our Lord confessing Him to be his Lord and his God.

During the time between His resurrection and His ascension into Heaven Our Lord continued to come to His followers, sometimes to groups of the apostles, once to more than 500 gathered together (I Cor. 15:6), until He took His final leave of them and ascended into Heaven.

Our Lord proved beyond doubt the fact of His resurrection and with it the truth of His word. In foretelling His resurrection He had given men an extraordinary means of testing His truthfulness. With the resurrection a fact, His word could not be doubted and His claims, including His claim to be God, were proved to be true.

“If Christ be not risen again, then is our preaching vain,” said St. Paul (I Cor. 15:14), but Christ had risen and on the strength of His resurrection men, who were able to satisfy themselves about it, came in great numbers to accept the Christian Faith even though it demanded of them sacrifices which naturally speaking they would have been little inclined to make.

Christ then claimed to be God.

(Footnote: Our Lord’s referring to Himself as the “Son of God” does not imply any inferiority to God the Father for anyone who recalls that part of Christ’s revelation which deals with the Blessed Trinity—the Persons of the Father, Son and Holy Ghost in the oneness of the Godhead.)

Christ, by His character, His miracles, and especially His resurrection, proved the truth of His word. Therefore we must accept His claim as true and acknowledge Him for what He is, the Great God of Heaven and earth made man for us.

Since He is God, Our Lord’s claims to speak in a way intended for the whole world and in a way men must heed under pain of condemnation if they refuse, are claims that will be readily admitted. There is a clear obligation on all to hear the words of God made man.

JESUS CHRIST FOUNDED A CHURCH

Jesus Christ, Who was God, made it clear that He came on earth to bring forgiveness of sins and to give men life, the everlasting life of Heaven and what was necessary for it. He made it equally clear that it was necessary for men to believe His teachings and obey His commandments in order to reach Heaven. He spent only a short time teaching men Himself and did not go much beyond the small country of Palestine in doing so. Yet, as He had said, His gospel was for the whole world and to be believed by all men. He must, then, have made some provision to bring His words to men throughout the world and that for all time. He did this by founding His Church and setting up the Apostles as the authority in it to be His mouthpiece to men, giving them His own power to teach and rule.

What reason is there for saying this, and what, in the first place, do we mean by a Church?

When we say Our Lord founded a Church, we mean by a Church a religious society.

A society is a group of men gathered together under an authority for a common purpose, and having at their disposal the ways and means to enable them to do what they are united for. There are many examples of societies amongst us. A cricket club is one such example. It is made up of a number of members, who are banded together to promote interest in the game of cricket. They elect an authority to conduct the affairs of the club and by subscriptions and other means make available the funds necessary to equip and maintain their team.

The State in which we live is the highest form of a human society. In it, men living together in a country elect a Government and give it the authority to govern—to make laws, to enforce them, to gather taxes—in order to enjoy those advantages which should come to all from living in civilized society.

Our Lord founded His Church as a religious society. He spoke before His death of the Church He would found (Matt. 16:18). At Pentecost, when for the first time after His Ascension His followers showed themselves to the world, they appeared as already forming a religious society for which He was responsible. The Acts of the Apostles shows us the group of disciples of Christ, recognizing the Apostles as the authority amongst them, joined together to honour God and achieve salvation in the way pointed out by Christ, and having at their disposal, besides the teaching of Christ, such helps as Baptism and the power of forgiving sins to enable them to live as Christ’s followers. Here was Christ’s Church.

What were the characteristics He intended it to have?

It was certainly visible. The followers of Our Lord could be picked out as a special group of men and were soon given the name “Christians” to describe them (Acts 11:26).

His Church was meant by Our Lord to be lasting. Before His death when speaking of it He said, “the gates of hell” the strongest powers of the evil one—would never overcome it (Matt. 16:18). When he commissioned the Apostles to go forth to teach men for Him, He promised to be with them (living on in their successors), “all days even to the consummation of the world” (Matt. 28:20). Similarly He had promised that the Spirit of Truth would abide with them “forever” (John 14:16, 17).

Christ meant His Church to be one. He spoke only of His Church, never of His churches. He compared it to a kingdom and a sheepfold—units, single entities. He prayed that His followers might be one (John 17:20, 21), and the prayer of Christ avails, so that where the true and full followers of Christ are there will be unity. He called Himself with justice the Truth, and Truth is one. It is not something that exists in one way in the mind of one man and in the opposite way in the mind of another. It has objective reality and unless we conceive Christ as being self contradictory we must look for unity and not contradiction in His teaching. He made this clear when He told the Apostles to teach men in His name “to observe all things whatsoever I have commanded” (Matt. 28:20). If men obeyed His command and accepted all things that He taught, then they would all accept the same things and there would be unity. This was what Our Lord intended.

The Church founded by Christ was holy. He Himself was all holy. He came to make men holy. His teaching was all directed to this end. His object in making provision for His work to go on and for His teaching to reach all men—the very object of His Church then—was to make it possible for men throughout the ages to become holy and reach eternal life. To His Church He left the means of bringing men the divine help they needed to live as He desired. These helps are to be found, for instance, in Baptism, the power of forgiving sins, and the Eucharist—all committed to the care of the authority He set up in His Church.

A most important quality of the Church founded by Christ is its universality. Even before His death Our Lord said His Gospel was to be preached in the whole world (Matt. 24:14). Before His Ascension He ordered the Apostles to teach “all nations” (Matt. 28:19), to preach the Gospel to “every creature” (Mark 16:15 ). To be conscious, then, at all times of this world-wide commission embracing all races and all grades of society is a necessary mark of the Church founded by Our Lord.

It is most important to note that Our Lord meant His Church to be apostolic. He set up the Apostles as the authority over His Church. He gave them the powers of teaching and ruling in His name and to their care He entrusted the special helps He left to make men holy. He intended His Church to last, as we have seen, and therefore intended the powers He gave to the Apostles to pass on to their successors. This we see the Apostles themselves understood from the Acts of the Apostles and their Epistles. Our Lord chose the Apostles from amongst His followers. He gave them practice, along with others, in teaching in His name before His death. He spoke of a power to rule men which He would give them—“Whatsoever you shall bind upon earth shall be bound also in Heaven and whatsoever you shall loose upon earth shall be loosed also in Heaven” (Matt. 18:18). To St. Peter He promised this power is a special and personal way (Matt. 16:19).

After His Resurrection Our Lord gave His commission to them saying “As the Father has sent me, I also send you” (John 20:21). Their commission was the same as His own. As He had taught with divine authority, so should they. As he had acted as law-giver for the good of men’s souls, so should they.

To them He said: “Going therefore, you all teach all nations . . . teaching them to observe all things whatsoever I have commanded you and behold I am with you” (Matt, 28:19, 20). “He that believes and is baptized shall be saved: but He that believes not shall be condemned” (Mark 16:16).

Since the authority Our Lord gave to the Apostles was His own authority, as we might expect, to those whom He made His mouthpiece to men, He spoke such words as guaranteed them against error when they were carrying out His commission. He promised in general that the gates of hell would not prevail against His Church, as they surely would if it fell into error and led men astray in the matters in which it was to act for Him. He promised that “the Spirit of Truth” would abide with the Apostles “forever” (John 14:16, 17) and where the Spirit of Truth is there can be no error. He promised that He Himself would be with the Apostles even as they taught, so that if there were any error it would have to be put down to Him, which is unthinkable. Moreover, He said that all men must believe the teaching of the Apostles under pain of being condemned if they refused to believe, but He could not in justice condemn men for refusing to believe what might be wrong. That threat carried with it a guarantee that there would be no error.

Such was the Church founded by Our Lord almost two thousand years ago-a religious society, visible and lasting, one, holy, universal, founded on the authority of the Apostles (which was Christ’s own authority) and infallible.

Here then was Christ’s arrangement for reaching men through the ages—His Church. Through the Apostolic Authority He set over it, His own divine words would still reach the ears of men. The power of teaching and ruling which He gave to that authority was His own divine power to teach and His own divine power to rule, and all power was His in Heaven and on earth. When this authority functioned, then, it was no human voice that men heard but the divine voice of Christ Himself.

THE CATHOLIC CHURCH IS CHRIST’S CHURCH

In the world today there are many claimants of the Christian name. They are mainly the Orthodox Church, the Protestant Churches, and the Catholic Church.

All are different from one another, one often asserting what the others deny. Where there are such differences, all cannot be right, for Truth is one and Christ is the Truth and not self-contradictory. He did not leave it to men to work out for themselves by what way they were to serve God. He pointed out one way—His way—and that way alone is right.

In the midst of the differences His Church is still to be found, otherwise His guarantees, the guarantees of God made man, go for nothing.

That Church which has qualities identical with those of the Church founded by Our Lord so long ago will be shown to be His Church, and the rest will forfeit the right to call themselves by His name.

As has been pointed out, besides the Catholic Church the main claimants of the Christian name are the Orthodox Church and the Protestant Churches. The Orthodox Church came into being as a distinct Church accepting all the Catholic Sacraments and Teachings but rejecting the role of the successor to Peter, in Rome, first in the ninth century when Photius, patriarch of Constantinople, led the Church in Greece away from unity with the Pope. The schism was healed, but renewed under Michael Cerularius, another patriarch of Constantinople in the eleventh century. Since that time it has continued in existence and the schism has been mainly exacerbated by nationalistic pride rather than theological controversy. The Orthodox Church is found mostly in Balkan countries and in parts of the Middle East. It is widespread in Russia though suffering under the cruel tyranny of communism. What claims has it to be considered the true Church of Christ?

Its members are one in belief but there is no unity of government. They attain to a high degree of holiness, still having the Mass and the Sacraments in use amongst them, but some argue that the holiness of the saints is no longer there. It is in no sense universal, being confined to a small group of countries. Moreover, at no time in its history since its separation from unity with the See of Peter has it looked upon it as an essential duty to spread the faith it has amongst all nations, and this is a necessary mark of the Church of Christ. (In fairness, it has faced enormous obstacles in combating the tyrannies of ‘Christian’ monarchs and antagonistic Moslem and Communist enemies. Catholicism itself has had many a life and death struggle against similar opponents, but has always finally emerged both victorious and missionary.) It does not claim to be infallible. Indeed, some can be found who argue that those who exercise authority in the Orthodox Church cannot claim that that authority comes from the Apostles since, without Peter and his successor, there can be no binding decisions made for the Orthodox Church, such as were decided at the first seven Ecumenical Councils. It is, then, not identical with the Church founded by Our Lord.

Protestantism came into being in the sixteenth century, some 400 years ago or so, at what is called erroneously the Reformation. Luther, who began in the name of reform, soon led what was really a revolt against Christianity as accepted through the centuries. What was brought into being as a result of the revolt was a new thing and therefore not Our Lord’s. Any claim that Protestantism was a return to original Christianity meant that there was a time when Our Lord’s Church failed, and so His promises that His Church would endure and that the Spirit of of Truth would continue with it always had gone for nothing.

From setting out to attack abuses connected with the granting of Indulgences, Luther passed on to attack the doctrine of Indulgences itself and from that other fundamental teachings of the faith, until he had something very different from Christianity as understood till that time.

(Footnote on abuses: There were abuses not only in connection with the granting of indulgences in Luther’s day, but also in the granting of Church dignities and offices, and moreover in the lives of many clerics and members of the laity. These abuses were set right by the Church through the Council of Trent, but in the beginning they helped Luther, who claimed to be a reformer, although his character and actions belied the claim.)

Luther denied free will, said man was always in the state of sin and was saved without good works, by faith alone (by which he meant rather trust in Christ). He rejected as means of grace the Sacraments including the priesthood, although retaining the names of Baptism, Eucharist. and Penance for something different from what Christian Sacraments were understood to be till that time. He declared that the Bible as each one understood it himself was the sole source from which each one got his Christian faith. (Footnote: There are many reasons why “the Bible alone privately interpreted” is not the way by which to know the Christian faith. Nowhere does the Bible itself lay down such a rule so that to hold the rule one must contradict oneself. The Christian faith was already accepted and practised by men before a word of the New Testament—the most important part of the Bible for a Christian—was written. It was not complete for many years after the founding and spread of the Church. The Bible is written in languages that many do not understand. Until printing was invented in the fifteenth century the number of Bibles available was very small, so that if every man had to consult it for himself in order to have the Christian faith, it would have been an impossible task. To seek the Christian faith from the Bible by each one’s own private understanding of it could not fail to result in as many different versions of that faith as there were differences in individual understanding of the Bible. The differences and contradictions among Protestants about what is to be believed is proof that this rule was none of Our Lord’s making. To bring the faith to men Our Lord appointed Apostles and told them to “go and teach” promising to be with them as they did.)

Somewhat later, Calvin in Switzerland gave form and cohesion to the Protestant system although differing from Luther considerably. He held with Luther that the Bible alone privately interpreted was the sole rule of faith, but reduced the so called Sacraments to two, Baptism and Eucharist, and taught absolute predestination, i.e., that God made some men for Heaven and others for hell.

Lutheranism spread in parts of Germany, in the Netherlands, and in Scandinavia, where secular princes were glad to be free from ecclesiastical authority and ready to enrich themselves by taking Church property from those who they were told had no title to it. Without the backing of the princes it would not have spread. Calvin found followers in France, where they came to be called Huguenots, and in Scotland through John Knox’s activity, where they were called Presbyterians.

In England following Henry the Eighth’s breach with the Pope, during the short reign of the boy king, Edward VI, Protestantism was spread by the members of the Council of State to secure themselves and other in the possession of Church property and, after a short break during the reign of the Catholic Queen Mary, was by the latter part of Elizabeth’s reign forced on the majority of the people. Protestantism, split as it is into so many differing sects, cannot be regarded as a single body nor can any individual group rightly claim to be the Church founded by Christ.

The unity which Our Lord meant His Church to have is wanting. No group is one in doctrine. There are for instance in the Church of England, the High Church, the Low Church, and the Centre Group. Individuals even within a given group differ from one another in belief. Some Presbyterians hold that Christ is God, others deny it and so on. There is no one governing authority in any group which when it teaches or makes laws is, or can expect to be, accepted and obeyed by all.

Although there are many very good Protestants, yet in the Protestant Churches the holiness of the saints is wanting, and from Protestantism the inspiration and help necessary to make the sacrifice high sanctity calls for is sought in vain.

Protestantism is not universal. In fact, in its origin, it took the form of a national religion and in its various forms for centuries continued as such, without any consciousness of a duty to spread the faith it claimed to hold amongst the pagan nations of the world. This alone is enough to show that it is not the Church of Christ. This holds despite what present day missionary activity there is, which is of recent origin and, as it were, an after-thought.

Protestantism in any of its forms is not apostolic. It cannot claim to have, through unbroken succession from the Apostles, either what authority it lays claim to, or its teachings. It makes no claim to speak with a voice that cannot err. In no sense is it the voice of Christ bringing His teaching to men.

The Catholic Church alone can claim to be identical with that Church established by Our Lord nearly two thousand years ago.

It has, as Our Lord intended His Church to have, unity of faith, all its members believing the same doctrines, and unity of government, all submitting to the ruling authority of the Pope.

The Catholic Church is holy. Not that all Catholics are holy by any means. On this point Our Lord Himself made it clear that there would be good and bad in His Church. But its teachings are holy, calculated to make men holy, inculcating with unchanging voice humility, charity, chastity, the sanctity of marriage and the sacredness of human life, among other things which find little favour in the world of today. Moreover, it has ever been able to put at the disposal of its children, mainly in the Sacraments and the Sacrifice of the Mass, the means which, if they will use them to the full, will bring them to the highest degrees of holiness. The wonders of holiness in the lives of the saints, which must be known to be appreciated, have come from their using to the full the help and inspiration the Catholic Church has given them. From the same source great numbers have been enabled to sacrifice all that men hold dear, in order to follow the teaching of Our Lord more perfectly in a life dedicated exclusively to Him and the care of souls, in monastery and convent.

The Catholic Church is universal, knowing no national boundaries but spread among all nations and also among all grades of society. It has ever regarded it as a sacred duty to spread the faith it holds among those who know it not. In every age its missionaries have gone forth over the world even when, as at the time of the Reformation, it seemed overwhelmed with difficulties where it was long established. It has always been obedient to the command of Christ: “Teach all nations.”

The Catholic Church, is apostolic, able to trace back its authority and its teachings to the time of the Apostles, who find their successors in the Pope and its bishops. It claims, as the mouth-piece of Christ to men must claim, to speak with an unerring voice in regard to the things that are Christ’s—whatever concerns Christian faith and morality.

The Catholic Church alone can rightly claim to be identical with the Church founded by Our Lord. It alone is the true Church, and the teaching and ruling authority in it is a divine teaching and ruling authority, set up by Our Lord Himself to bring His words to men for all time.

THE POPE

To complete the picture of Our Lord’s arrangements for His Church, reference must be made to the position of supreme authority to which He appointed St. Peter and which He wished the successors of St. Peter to occupy after Him.

On the first occasion that He met St. Peter we are told that Our Lord fixed His gaze on him and said: “You are Simon the Son of Jona—you shall be called ‘Cephas,’ (in the language Our Lord spoke) which is interpreted ‘Peter,’” {or ‘Rock’} as St. John points out (John 1:42). A similar remark was not addressed to any of the others who came to join Him and it is worth noting that when in the Old Testament we read of God’s changing a man’s name, it is when He intended him to take up a new and higher office. St. Peter is mentioned first in the lists of the Apostles although he was not the first to join Our Lord. He, with James and John, was one of the privileged three on several occasions in the life of Our Lord. Frequently we find him speaking to Our Saviour in the name of the other Apostles, as already having a recognized position among them.

About six months before His death, Our Lord promised to make him the foundation and support of the Church He would found. It was on the occasion when Our Lord, having questioned the Apostles as to who men said He was, St. Peter answered: “You are the Christ, the Son of the Living God.” Then came Our Lord’s reply and with it the promise of the primacy: “Blessed are you Simon, son of Jona, because flesh and blood have not revealed it to you but My Father Who is in Heaven and I say to you: You are Peter (i.e., the rock) and upon this rock (upon you) I will build My Church and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it. And I will give to you the keys of the Kingdom of Heaven, and whatsoever you shall bind on earth it shall be bound also in Heaven and whatsoever you shall loose on earth it shall be loosed also in Heaven” (Matt. 16:16–19).

In this reply Christ compared the Church that is to be, to a house built on a rock. As the rock foundation gives firmness and durability to the house, so will Peter give stability to the Church. He will make it so firm that the strongest powers of the evil one (the gates of hell) shall not destroy it. Now it is the supreme authority in any society which gives it stability, hence St. Peter’s position from which the Church of Christ was to get its firmness was to be one of supreme authority over it.

Then too, St. Peter was promised the keys of the Kingdom of Heaven. Among the Jews to say a man had the keys of a household signified that he was in charge of its affairs. The master of a household going away and leaving a man in charge would be said to be giving him the power of the keys. St. Peter, then, was to hold a similar position of authority over those wishing to enter heaven by the way Our Lord would appoint—through His Church.

Peter also was to receive in a special way the power to bind and loose. The other Apostles, it is true, were to have a similar power but it was to be understood in the light of the special power promised to St. Peter and to be exercised in subordination to his. To him in a special way would it belong to make laws or to annul them, to rule with an authority guaranteed in Heaven.

Our Lord gave a confirmation of these promises on the solemn occasion of the Last Supper with His Apostles. He remarked to St. Peter that they would all be assailed by Satan, “but,” He added, “I have prayed for you (singular) that your (singular) faith fail not”—whatever about his courage—and Our Lord went on to say that Peter would be the one through whom, in the end, the others would be confirmed in loyalty to Himself (Luke 22:31, 32).

It was after the Resurrection that Our Lord kept the promises made to St. Peter. On one occasion before His Ascension into Heaven, He came to a group of His disciples by the Sea of Tiberias. There He asked Peter three times did he love Him. He received in answer a threefold declaration of love. Our Lord said to him, “Feed My lambs. Tend . . . (and) feed my sheep,” (John 21:15–17).

The whole flock—all the members of His Church—were committed by the Good Shepherd Himself to one who was to be the shepherd in His place when He had left this earth. Peter’s office and duty it would be to shield, guide, and rule the Church, exercising supreme authority in the name of his Divine Master, as completely as a shepherd would control his flock.

In the Acts of the Apostles we find that St Peter was pre-eminent among the Apostles after Our Lord’s Ascension. There is reference to “Peter and those with him,” “Peter and the Apostles.” He worked extraordinary miracles and was the one to whom it fell by divine arrangement to receive the first Gentiles into the Church.

Since the Church was to last just as Our Lord had founded it “till the consummation of the world,” Peter was to have successors and since the members of the Church would always need the same pastor’s care, those successors were also to have the supreme authority which Christ set up precisely that the gates of hell might not prevail against His Church.

The Popes, the Bishops of Rome, are the successors of St. Peter. History attests that Peter came to Rome and there fixed his See. Thus it was that Rome could be called, as it was, “the Chair of Peter.” From St. Peter’s death his successors have governed the Church in his place, being not only Bishops of Rome but, because they were Peter’s successors, heads also of the universal Church.

We have the testimony of history that the matter was understood thus by Christians from the earliest times. Pope St. Clement (died 97 A.D.), towards the end of the first century, wrote to the people of Corinth and expected them to obey (as he put it) what Our Lord said through him. St. Ignatius, the martyr (died 107 A.D.), speaks of the Church of Rome as the teacher of others. St. Ireneus (died 200) speaks of its pre-eminent authority and the need of every Church to agree with it on that account. “Peter has spoken thus through Leo,” exclaimed the Bishops gathered in Chalcedon in the east in 451, when they heard Pope Leo’s letter against the heretic Eutyches. In this they were but repeating what had been held by their predecessors as essential to true Christianity.

The same recognition of and submission to the Roman Pontiff was shown through the centuries and is shown still by the majority of Christians, who acknowledge the Pope as the successor of St. Peter and therefore as the supreme authority appointed by Christ over His Church.

(Footnote: In the middle of the 19th century, John Henry Newman, an Anglican Minister and the outstanding man at the University of Oxford at the time, became a Catholic and afterwards a priest and later was created a cardinal. His close study of history had shown him what the early Christian Church was like and he found that the only Christian group which could claim to be the same as it in his day was the Catholic Church. In some published notes of his, he says that if no more could be said for the Catholic Church than that Catholics obey the Pope, that alone would be enough to show it is the true Church, for Christ made St. Peter the head of His Church; the Pope is the successor of St. Peter and Catholics who are alone in their obedience to the Pope, alone accept Our Lord’s arrangements in their entirety, submitting to the supreme authority He set over His Church. This is merely saying in another way what St. Ambrose said in the fourth century: “Where Peter is, there is the Church.”)

THE INFALLIBILITY OF THE POPE

As well as having supreme authority in the Church, the Pope is infallible.

Here is the official statement of Catholic belief in the matter—“When he speaks ‘ex Cathedra,’” (i.e., when, discharging his office of pastor and teacher of all Christians, in virtue of his supreme Apostolic authority, he defines doctrine concerning faith or morals to be held by the universal Church,) the Roman Pontiff enjoys that infallibility with which Our Divine Redeemer wished His Church to be endowed in defining doctrine concerning faith or morals.”

When it is said that the Pope is infallible, this means simply that in certain well-defined circumstances the Pope cannot make a mistake. It does not mean that the Pope is impeccable or cannot commit a sin. It does not mean that the Pope is especially inspired by God what to say. It simply means that in the circumstances mentioned he is preserved by God from making a mistake

Although the Pope is infallible, he is not infallible in everything but only when he speaks “ex Cathedra” as it is called, and what that means is carefully explained. He is infallible “when discharging his office as pastor and teacher of all Christians, he defines doctrine concerning faith or morals to be held by the universal Church.”

First, he must speak as the Supreme Pastor, the head of the universal Church. If he were giving an exhortation to people in a church in Rome as their bishop or if as a private theologian he wrote works on theology, he would not be infallible.

Then, he is infallible when, teaching as Supreme Pastor, he deals with some doctrine concerning faith—what we must believe as part of what God has made known to us—or concerning morals—what we must do as part of keeping God’s law. He is not infallible in dealing with other matters, except they are so closely connected with religious truths that correct ideas concerning them are necessary to safeguard those religious truths.

Lastly, in addition to teaching as head of the Church and about matters of faith and morals, it is necessary, if the Pope is to speak infallibly, that he teach definitively, or in a way to determine the matter, something binding on all Christians. When these conditions are fulfilled, the Pope is infallible being preserved by God from error.

Our Lord made St. Peter the rock foundation on which His Church was to depend for stability. He and his successors would make it so firm that according to Our Lord’s own promise “the gates of hell would not prevail against it.” But if Peter or his successors could err when teaching as Supreme Pastor on matters of faith or morals to be held by all the faithful, then the Church would not remain firm and the forces of error and evil would certainly be prevailing against it.

To Peter and his successors were given the keys of the Kingdom of Heaven and the power to bind men in such a way that they would thereby be bound in the eyes of Heaven. But this could not be if Peter and his successors in their capacity of Supreme Pastor were able to teach men, as something they were bound to believe, what was wrong. God would never bind men to believe possible error. Our Lord made St. Peter the shepherd of His flock when He said to Peter, “Feed My lambs. Feed My sheep.”

He appointed him and his successors supreme pastors of His Church. They have the office of feeding the flock with the word of truth. But if they were to err in the use of their supreme teaching authority they would not be feeding the flock as the Lord intended, but be administering to it the poisoned food of false doctrine. They would fail in what was essential to their pastor’s office, if not infallible.

It is easy, then, to understand why bishops of the early Church regarded agreement with the Church Of Rome as the safe rule of faith and looked to the Pope as to the one who “stood on the firm rock of faith.”

CONCLUSION

The following is a summary of what has been said:

From the facts of God’s existence and man’s receiving his life from God for some purpose connected with God’s honour, it follows that man has a duty to do what God made him for—to honour God in God’s way. Men left to themselves failed to find out adequately what was the purpose of their being and what their duty to God was.

As might have been expected from this, and as was necessary if God wished men to know truths about Himself quite beyond human power to discover, God made Himself known to men.

The final revelation of Himself was given when God became man.

He spent only a few short years teaching on earth and came in contact with comparatively few people, yet He plainly stated that what He had come to do and what He had to say were for the whole world. He demanded to be accepted by all.

He made provision to bring His voice to men till the end of time by founding His Church and setting up an authority in it to which He gave His Own divine power to teach and rule so that it became a duty on all who would accept Him to obey that authority even as it would obey Him.

The Catholic Church is that Church which Our Lord founded, still existing and to last till the end. Its bishops with the Pope at their head still exercise that authority—Christ’s Own divine authority—which he vested in St. Peter and the other Apostles.

When, then, the bishops of the Catholic Church meet together with the Pope at their head and teach matters of faith or morals, or when scattered throughout the world they teach on such matters with one voice in union with the Pope, or when the Pope himself teaches “ex Cathedra,” then do we know that it is the voice of Christ Our Lord we hear, and in that is there certainty of the truth.

It follows that, although every Catholic is encouraged to understand his faith as fully as possible and to see its reasonableness, yet it is enough for him to know merely that such and such a thing is the teaching of the Church in order to be assured of its truth, even as he sees that the Church’s laws are not resting on any human authority but are, by Our Lord’s Own arrangement, expressions of His Own divine will for His followers: for the authority in His Church is the authority of Christ Himself still exercised in the world.

The word of God made man, then, still comes with its fullness of truth and in all definiteness and clearness to the world through His Church.

To show by one’s life that it is being heeded fully is, as well as being a duty, a sign of gratitude for possessing it. To try to bring others to know it is another such sign, which also makes one an apostle of Christ and particularly dear to His Divine Heart.

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The Foundation of Catholic Belief

REV J. PURCELL

INDEX

FOREWORD

This booklet has been compiled with the idea of bringing together briefly in one place the matters which form the foundation of Catholic belief.

It is intended for Catholics who may wish to refresh their memory on things already learned. It may make clearer what was not fully grasped in younger days, especially the reason why we are so certain of the truth in all that the Church teaches.

It is possible the booklet will be a help to some non-Catholic readers in understanding the basis of the Catholic Faith. That would be a most welcome result.

Once a person grasps the fact that the Catholic Church is God’s mouthpiece to men, planned and arranged deliberately by Our Divine Lord before His Ascension into Heaven, so that through it His voice would continue to reach men until the end, then the acceptance of the Catholic Faith united with its full practice is clearly seen to be the complete carrying out of God’s will.

Our Lord in His mortal life gave the perfect example of devotedness in doing the Will of God. It was what He desired above all that men should do. “Blessed are they who hear the word of God and keep it.”

GOD

Religion supposes the fact of God “s existence. The word “religion” means “that which binds us to God.” It leads us to take account of Him in our lives and to discharge our duties to Him.

The fact of God’s existence is something that man can know by the use of reason alone. There are to be found atheists who deny the existence of God. They have always formed a small minority of the human race, for although through the ages men have had many different ideas about the kind of Being God is, yet the human race as a whole at all times has had no doubt about His existence. Some of the minority who profess to be atheists do so because they see that to acknowledge God’s existence would be to acknowledge a law of God and they wish to be a law unto themselves. Others have grown up with a prejudice against religion, perhaps because of what they consider injustice done them by people professing to be religious, and will have nothing to do with God or religion. Very few are atheists as a result of conviction born of deliberate reasoning about the existence of God.

The vast majority of men by what one may call the normal use of reason have seen that God exists.

Different lines of thought bring men to know this. If you go into a modern factory you will see there a collection of wonderful machinery. If you are not familiar with machinery, some one may explain to you how each machine works. You will admire the genius of the man who invented each machine you inspect, seen in his planning it, having the various parts made, fitting them together, getting the whole into working order to produce the thing he intended the machine to produce.

You would laugh at the idea that any such machine could be the result of chance, even the result of flinging together in a heap the parts of which it is made. You know that an intelligent being, a very intelligent one, was necessary to account for it.

Now in the world around us among the things of nature, as we say, there are many things far more wonderful than the most wonderful works of man. We do not have to go beyond ourselves for an example. The human body is more wonderful than any man-made machine. Each part performs a function which it was obviously intended for. The eyes were made for seeing, the ears for hearing, the heart to pump the life-blood of man through his body. The wonderful levers which we call the hands and legs were made for movement. There is the digestive system by which the body is built up and conserved. There is the marvellous power which man has of reproducing his kind. All these things and the rest that make up the human body demand an intelligent Being to account for them and could be far less the result of chance than the most complicated of man-made machines.

We think a camera is a remarkable invention, but it is nothing in comparison with the human eye. If it needed an intelligent being to account for it, much more does the eye of man, and, of course, the whole of the human body. This applies to the numberless and often extremely complicated things of the animal and vegetable kingdoms, too.

Again, we can reason to God’s existence in a somewhat different way. You know in what numbers and how frequently the trains come in to a modern central railway station. Yet they come in in the most orderly fashion and an accident is practically an unheard of thing in the process.

Of course it is the signalling system, which may be an automatic one, that is responsible for the order. You know what would happen if the drivers just started their trains and let them run on, paying no regard to signals.

It is obvious that an intelligent being is required to “work out” any signalling system. It is the direct opposite of leaving things to chance. If a signalling system, which preserves the order we witness, works automatically it merely demands a higher degree of intelligence than a simpler system.

Now let us look at the universe of which our earth forms part. We think, even in these days, that the earth is a big place. Yet compared with other heavenly bodies it is very small. The sun is over a million times the size of the earth and situated some 92,000,000 miles away. Yet the sun itself is only a small star compared with so many other heavenly bodies which are at far greater distances from us.

Besides the size of the heavenly bodies and their vast distances from one another there is their colossal number. Each improvement of the telescope brings yet more and more of them under the notice of man, so that their number seems as if it had no limit. The heavenly bodies have movements of their own and move, too, in relation to one another, and the whole number is moving through space at immense speed, some hundreds of times faster than the speed of a shell fired from the best of the ordinary type of gun.

Yet the whole universe moves with the utmost order and regularity. So regular is it that scientists can, for example, calculate accurately when an eclipse of the sun will occur in the future or has occurred in the past.

Now if the signalling system at a great railway station-all the more wonderful if it is automatic-speaks to us of the high intelligence demanded to account for the order with which the many and frequent trains arrive, all the more does the order in the universe demand an intelligent Being to account for it.

There is a line of thought leading to the knowledge of God’s existence which the greatest of the ancient philosophers considered conclusive. In the world around us, there is nothing, including ourselves, which can explain itself. Everything we know in the visible world depends on something else for its existence. Thus it has always been, within the knowledge of man.

A man depends for his life on his parents and they in turn on their parents and so on. The plant depends on a seed or shoot of some other plant. Even lifeless things like minerals and precious stones cannot explain themselves, but depend on chemical action and pressure brought to bear from outside. So it has always been in the experience of man. There never has been anything that could explain itself. Everything depends on something else, and has not the reason of its existence in itself.

Now, if you want an explanation of this long line of dependent things, you must come to some supremely independent Being, existing of necessity, Who depending on nothing outside Himself for His existence and therefore being uncaused existed always, and is the One responsible for that long series of dependent things which cannot explain themselves yet need explanation and demand an intelligence to account for them. This Being is God.

God is eternal-He always was and always will be-because He exists of necessity and with complete independence and so, owing His existence to none, never began to be and will never cease to be. Because of His supreme independence He is infinite, unlimited in His being and in His power, for there is none to hedge Him in in any way.

God is a spirit. He is in no way material. Anything material is made up of parts and needs something outside itself to bring those parts together. But God is dependent on nothing outside Himself for His existence and so is non-material. A non-material intelligent being is a spirit-a living being with free will and understanding not needing a body to make up its nature.

(Note: If we find it difficult to conceive the idea of a spiritual being it may help us to recall that we have a spiritual part in our own nature, namely our soul. We know we have a body because we can see it. We can be as certain we have a soul, because we do things which our body cannot account for, but which of their nature demand a spiritual, a nonmaterial source. We can conceive abstract ideas. From a number of beautiful things, for example, we get the idea of “beauty,” a non-material thing. We have consciousness of what we are doing. We can be conscious even of the act of thinking. These actions, along with the exercise of free-will including love, come from the spiritual part of ourselves, which we call our soul. No material part of us can account for them.)

Such then is God as seen by the light of reason. He is the supreme intelligent Being, spiritual, eternal, infinite, to Whom we along with all other things owe our existence.

REVELATION

Man, along with all other things, owes his existence to God. He therefore belongs to God. He is God’s. Now God must have had a purpose in making man. Being supremely intelligent He could not act blindly like a machine, for that would be against His nature. His purpose in making man must have been in some way connected with Himself and His own honour, for His action could not have been forced upon Him by anything outside Himself.

Since man is God’s and exists for God, it is his duty to do what God has made him for. To do that he must find out just how he is to live for God and to honour Him. Man cannot rightly live as he pleases, taking no account of God in the use of his life. If he so lives, be fails in the very purpose of his existence, which is for God. By the use of reason alone man could know much of his duty to God. However, the human race as a whole, left to itself, failed to find out clearly what man’s duty to God was. (There is a reason for that and it is to be found in original sin and the fall of the human race, although we are merely concerned here with the fact, not the reason for it.)

Since the duty of honouring God by one’s life remained, we might expect that God Himself would make known how it was to be done, seeing that men failed to learn it themselves. Moreover, in the supposition that God wanted men to know things about Himself which they could not possibly know by the use of reason alone, it would be necessary for Him to make these things known. There can be no doubt that God could so enlighten men. He Himself gave them the power to pass on their thoughts and the knowledge they acquired to other men, so He Himself could make known to them anything He wished them to know.

The question is did He make Himself known or reveal Himself, and if so how did He do it? God did reveal Himself and make known what He desired of men. He enlightened certain men and sent them as His messengers to other men. Such were the prophets of the Old Law and such in a special way was Our Lord Jesus Christ.

As men could reasonably ask by what right those claiming to speak in the name of God expected to be believed, God gave to those who truthfully claimed to speak for Him (for not all those who made the claim did so truthfully) certain signs, by which it could be known for certain that they came from Him.

These signs were the power to work miracles and the power to make prophecies. A miracle is an event, visible to the senses, above the order of nature of such a kind that it can be put down to God alone. To raise the dead to life for instance, as Our Lord Jesus Christ is related to have done in the case of Lazarus who was four days dead and whose body was already corrupting, is something quite beyond human power and could be possible by the power of God alone. To cure leprosy by a mere word is likewise something quite beyond human power. Leprosy can be cured sometimes only and after a period of treatment. To cure it as Our Lord is related to have done in response to a leper’s request, “If You will, You can make me clean,” by the mere words, “I will: be you made clean” is something beyond human power and possible only to God’s power.

Similarly to foretell in detail future events which are quite beyond human knowledge or guess-work is for those who see them come to pass evidence that they were foretold under divine enlightenment, for God alone can know future events including those which depend for their fulfilment on the free will of man.

Now, the prophets of the Old Law and in a special way Our Lord Jesus Christ claimed to speak to men in the name of God bearing His message to them. In support of that claim they often worked miracles and made true prophecies. These things, possible only to divine power, showed that they had the divine backing, that God was with them and using His power through them. Such things showed, when appealed to in support of the claim to speak for God, that that claim was made truthfully and that what was spoken was spoken in God’s name.

We, as Christians, are particularly interested in the claims of Our Lord Jesus Christ, and in what He taught of God’s plan for man and man’s duty towards God. To learn of Our Lord and His teaching we must go to the Gospels. which give the history of His life.

THE GOSPELS

The written record which we have of Our Lord’s life, His claims, and His teachings is contained in the four Gospels. They were written approximately between the years 50 and 100 A.D., St. Matthew’s being the first written and St. John’s the last.

With the exception of St. Matthew’s Gospel, they were written in Greek, then a universal language. St. Matthew wrote in Aramaic, the language used in Palestine in Our Lord’s time. But an early Greek translation gives us his Gospel, which has not come down to us in its original Aramaic.

The original Gospels written by the very Evangelists themselves do not exist, but many copies of them, some going back to the early fourth century, give us what they wrote. (Preserved pages from whole Gospels going back to at least 150 A.D., have also been recently unearthed.)

It is not to be wondered at that the original Gospels themselves did not endure, as they were written on a comparatively flimsy kind of paper, made from the pith of the papyrus reed; but when parchment began to be widely used for writing on, greater durability was given to the written word.

Many other ancient writings besides the Gospels have come down to us, some of them dating back to times before Our Lord’s coming. These include the works of history, poetry, philosophy and the rest which were the products of ancient Greece and Rome. Some of them are studied today by students of the classical languages. None of the manuscript copies of these works dates back as far as the oldest copies we have of the Gospels, nor are they by any means as numerous. Yet scholars accept them as genuinely reproducing the works composed in antiquity.

There is more reason for accepting the Gospels as the genuine writing of those who were in a position to know Our Lord’s life, than there is for accepting as genuine the other ancient writings which all scholars receive.

It would be hard to find other ancient documents so well known soon after they were written as the Gospels were. They are quoted from again and again by the earliest Christian writers and soon we are told about them and their authors. The words of St. Irenaeus, Bishop of Lyons (+202) are an example of this latter point. He came from the east and was a disciple of St. Polycarp, who lived at the same time as St. John the Apostle.

He tells us that Matthew, Mark, Luke and John, each wrote a Gospel.

The Gospels themselves ring true. It is beyond possibility that both the character of Our Lord and the nobility of His teachings as set out in the Gospels could be the result of an invention intended to mislead men. They are not written in a way calculated to win popular favour at the time of their first appearance, for they make many demands of men in themselves little in keeping with human inclination. Their writers have little or nothing to say directly of themselves. What little there is seems mostly to their discredit. They were obviously not seeking a reputation for themselves.

Many of the events they narrate are very wonderful, yet they were accepted as true by those in a position to investigate closely their truthfulness. The Gospels also find support from the history of secular events recorded elsewhere.

All these things go to prove that the Gospels are genuine and contain the truth. We must accept them as the real history of Our Lord’s life and teaching.

JESUS CHRIST IS GOD

As the Gospels make clear, Our Lord Jesus Christ claimed to teach men with divine authority. “My testimony is true . . . because I am not alone, but the Father that sent Me is with me . . . and the Father that sent Me gives testimony of Me” . because I am not alone, but the Father that sent Me is with me . . . and the Father that sent Me gives testimony of Me” 18); “I am come in the name of my Father” (John 5:43).

He claimed to speak in away meant for the whole world. “This Gospel shall be preached in the whole world” (Matt. 24:14). Later to the apostles He said: “Going, teach all nations. Preach the Gospel to every creature” (Matt. 28:19; Mark 16:15 ).

He said that men must heed Him, under pain of being finally condemned if they did not. “He that believes not, shall be condemned” (Mark 16:16).

These were extraordinary claims to make, yet they were not the greatest of His claims. He claimed also to be more than man. He claimed to be God.

If that claim is true there will be no difficulty in accepting the others, and His right to teach the whole world and to demand that men accept His teaching will be quite clear.

That claim is true. Jesus Christ is God because He claimed to be God and He proved His claim to be true.

Jesus Christ claimed to be God.

He said to the Jews on one occasion, “I and the Father are one” (meaning “one being”), and we are told that they took up stones to cast at Him “for blasphemy, because that you, being a man, make yourself God” (John 10:30–33).

On another occasion when the leaders of the Jews took exception to Our Lord’s curing the infirm man by the pool of Bethesda on the Sabbath, maintaining that He was breaking the Sabbath, He said to them: “My Father works until now and I work” (John 5:17), claiming that just at the Father having created all things, kept them in being by the exercise of His power, Sabbath day and all, so too He was as independent as the Father in what He did, even on the Sabbath day. The Jews when they heard this reply “sought the more to kill him because He did not only break the Sabbath but also said that God was His Father making Himself equal to God” (John 5:16–18).

On yet another occasion Our Lord told the Jews that Abraham the founder of their race (who had lived some 2000 years before) had looked forward to the day of His coming and rejoiced at the thought of it. The Jews said to Our Lord: “You are not yet fifty years old, and have You seen Abraham?” He replied: “Before Abraham was made, I am” (John 8:58). They took up stones to cast at Him for this reply. In it, besides claiming to exist before His life on earth began, He used words of Himself such as God had used to Moses when asked by Moses who He was. He had said: “I am who am,” that is “I am the one who exists in the fullest sense of the word, independently of all else.”

Again in His prayer after the Last Supper Our Lord addressed His Father “Glorify You Me, O Father . . . with the glory which I had, before the world was, with You” (John 16:5).

Addressing the Father once more He said: “All My things are Yours, and Yours are Mine” (John 17:10), even as we read of His telling the apostles at an earlier time, “No one knows the Son but the Father, neither does anyone know the Father but the Son” (Matt. 11:27). By these words He puts Himself on the same level as the Father. He claims that He alone knows the Father fully. To do this He must be divine, for no merely human being could know God fully or put himself on the same level as God.

When some months before His death He asked the apostles who men thought He was, they told Him some of the current opinions men had of Him. When He asked them what they thought, St. Peter replied: “You are the Christ, the Son of the Living God” (Matt. 16:16). Then Our Lord pronounced him blessed and told him He knew this not by any human knowledge, but by the direct divine enlightenment of the Father Himself. If St. Peter had merely meant that Our Lord was a “son of God” in the way in which any devout Jew would consider himself to be, he would not have needed any special divine enlightenment to know this of Our Lord. He must, therefore, by Our Lord’s own words have meant something more than this. He could have meant only that Our Lord was the true Son of God, having Himself the divine nature, and so that He was God.

Before the High Council of the Jews when Our Lord was brought in after His betrayal, the high priest sought for witnesses whose word would lead to His condemnation, but without success. Finally, he put Our Lord on His oath to say if He were “the Christ the Son of God.” When Our Lord replied that He was, the high priest accused Him of blasphemy and all on that score decided He should be put to death. (Matt. 26:63). There would be no question of blasphemy- speaking in a way gravely dishonouring God-if Our Lord and the high priest had merely meant “son of God” in a sense in which any Jew might claim the title for himself. There was question here of much more-of a claim to be the real Son of God, having the divine nature, and so to be God.

When we remember Our Lord’s forgiving sins in His Own name and for sorrow shown in His regard, as He did in the case of Mary Magdalen, and when we remember His claiming to be the Light of the World and the very Truth itself, we see that He acted in a way no mere man could, and claimed for Himself what no mere man could claim.

It is important to remember how Our Lord’s words were understood. We find that both His friends and His enemies understood Him to claim to be God. The Jews sought to kill Him and in the end condemned Him to death because they understood that He, a man, was making Himself God. The apostles understood His claim in the same way. In the introduction to his Gospel St. John says: “In the beginning was the Word (when creation began the Word-Whom he later identifies with Our Lord-already existed), the Word was with God and the Word was God,” and then, “the Word was made flesh (became man) and dwelt among us, and we saw His glory, the glory as it were of the only-begotten of the Father, full of grace and truth” (John 1:1–14). The Word then was God and the Word was made flesh and dwelt among us. St. Thomas, after his doubts concerning Our Lord’s Resurrection had vanished, hailed Him: “My Lord and My God” (John 20:28). In St.Paul’s Epistles we find the apostle saying of Our Lord: “Who being in the form of God thought it not robbery to be equal with God” (Phil. 2:6) and “Christ . . . Who is over all things God blessed for ever” (Rom 9:5), and in other places referring to Him in a way that could be used only of God.

It is clear, then, that by both His friends and His enemies Our Lord’s words were understood to claim for Himself that He was divine.

We believe that Our Lord is God not merely because He claimed to be God, but because He also proved that His word is true.

The truth of Our Lord’s word is clear first of all from His perfect character as man. Even those who do not accept Christianity admit that Christ was the most perfect man who ever walked this earth. We must therefore believe He is the soul of truth and honour and accept His word including His claim to be God, or else say that the most perfect of men was either a liar or suffering from self deception. Either idea is, of course, quite untenable. His word is to be accepted as true.

Again, there are Our Lord’s miracles which prove that He had the divine backing for what He said. He raised the dead to life, He cured the lepers by a mere word, He healed the sick, sometimes even when they were not present, but had friends or relations who came to Our Lord and besought His help on their behalf. He fed the multitudes in the desert on a few loaves and fishes. By His word He calmed the stormy sea.

All these things and other like them were beyond human power to accomplish. Our Lord appealed to His works as a reason why men should believe in Him. “Though you will not believe me, believe the works. The works that I do give testimony of me” (John 10:38&25). That was reasonable, for they showed at least that His Father in Heaven was working through Him, backing Him up, as it were, by putting His power at Our Lord’s disposal. So His miracles show that His words had the divine authority behind them; that His claim to be divine, as well as other things He said, was vouched for by His Father in Heaven.

In a special way the Resurrection of Our Lord from the dead proves His divinity.

Our Lord on several occasions foretold the manner of His death and that on the third day He would rise again (Matt. 17:9; 20:18 & 19). When He did this He gave men the best of all opportunities to test the truth of His word. If He did not rise again after foretelling that He would, then men need no longer believe Him. But if He did rise again, this was so extraordinary a thing to foretell and have come to pass that His word would be proved true beyond any shadow of doubt.

Our Lord died on the Cross. The soldiers sent to hasten the death of the three crucified on Good Friday found Our Lord already dead. The scourging itself had brought Him close to death. One of the soldiers, however, to make sure, ran his spear into Our Lord’s side. When Joseph of Arimathea asked Pilate’s leave to take Our Lord’s body for burial, Pilate sent for the Centurion who had been at Calvary to make sure that He was already dead, and when the officer reported that He was, Pilate gave permission for His friends to take His body.

The next day the chief priests and Pharisees came to Pilate saying: “That seducer said while He was yet alive “After three days I will rise again”” (Matt. 27:63). They therefore asked Pilate that the sepulchre be guarded lest His disciples come and take His body and say He was risen. They were satisfied that Our Lord was dead and then bore witness, too, to His prophecy that He would rise again.

On the Sunday morning the holy women, coming to the sepulchre to complete the embalming of Our Lord’s body, found the stone rolled back from the entrance and the tomb empty. They were told by an angel that Our Lord had risen. It was not long before He began to appear to His followers.

First He appeared to Mary Magdalen, then to the other holy women, to St. Peter, to the two disciples going to Emmaus and also to the ten apostles gathered together, Thomas being absent. The apostles would not believe it was He. He invited them to feel Him, for “a spirit had not flesh and bones as they saw Him to have” (Luke 24:39) and He even ate with them, so that they could no longer doubt it was He, bodily present. However, they could not convince Thomas on his return. He demanded to be enabled to put his finger into the place of the nails in Our Lord’s hands and his hand into His side before he would believe. A week later Our Lord came to His apostles again and gave Thomas the opportunity to do what he had demanded. He fell at the feet of Our Lord confessing Him to be his Lord and his God.

During the time between His resurrection and His ascension into Heaven Our Lord continued to come to His followers, sometimes to groups of the apostles, once to more than 500 gathered together (I Cor. 15:6), until He took His final leave of them and ascended into Heaven.

Our Lord proved beyond doubt the fact of His resurrection and with it the truth of His word. In foretelling His resurrection He had given men an extraordinary means of testing His truthfulness. With the resurrection a fact, His word could not be doubted and His claims, including His claim to be God, were proved to be true.

“If Christ be not risen again, then is our preaching vain,” said St. Paul (I Cor. 15:14), but Christ had risen and on the strength of His resurrection men, who were able to satisfy themselves about it, came in great numbers to accept the Christian Faith even though it demanded of them sacrifices which naturally speaking they would have been little inclined to make.

Christ then claimed to be God.

(Note: Our Lord’s referring to Himself as the “Son of God” does not imply any inferiority to God the Father for anyone who recalls that part of Christ’s revelation which deals with the Blessed Trinity-the Persons of the Father, Son and Holy Ghost in the oneness of the Godhead.)

Christ, by His character, His miracles, and especially His resurrection, proved the truth of His word. Therefore we must accept His claim as true and acknowledge Him for what He is, the Great God of Heaven and earth made man for us.

Since He is God, Our Lord’s claims to speak in a way intended for the whole world and in a way men must heed under pain of condemnation if they refuse, are claims that will be readily admitted. There is a clear obligation on all to hear the words of God made man.

JESUS CHRIST FOUNDED A CHURCH

Jesus Christ, Who was God, made it clear that He came on earth to bring forgiveness of sins and to give men life, the everlasting life of Heaven and what was necessary for it. He made it equally clear that it was necessary for men to believe His teachings and obey His commandments in order to reach Heaven. He spent only a short time teaching men Himself and did not go much beyond the small country of Palestine in doing so. Yet, as He had said, His gospel was for the whole world and to be believed by all men. He must, then, have made some provision to bring His words to men throughout the world and that for all time. He did this by founding His Church and setting up the Apostles as the authority in it to be His mouthpiece to men, giving them His own power to teach and rule.

What reason is there for saying this, and what, in the first place, do we mean by a Church?

When we say Our Lord founded a Church, we mean by a Church a religious society.

A society is a group of men gathered together under an authority for a common purpose, and having at their disposal the ways and means to enable them to do what they are united for. There are many examples of societies amongst us. A cricket club is one such example. It is made up of a number of members, who are banded together to promote interest in the game of cricket. They elect an authority to conduct the affairs of the club and by subscriptions and other means make available the funds necessary to equip and maintain their team.

The State in which we live is the highest form of a human society. In it, men living together in a country elect a Government and give it the authority to govern-to make laws, to enforce them, to gather taxes-in order to enjoy those advantages which should come to all from living in civilized society.

Our Lord founded His Church as a religious society. He spoke before His death of the Church He would found (Matt. 16:18). At Pentecost, when for the first time after His Ascension His followers showed themselves to the world, they appeared as already forming a religious society for which He was responsible. The Acts of the Apostles shows us the group of disciples of Christ, recognizing the Apostles as the authority amongst them, joined together to honour God and achieve salvation in the way pointed out by Christ, and having at their disposal, besides the teaching of Christ, such helps as Baptism and the power of forgiving sins to enable them to live as Christ’s followers. Here was Christ’s Church.

What were the characteristics He intended it to have?

It was certainly visible. The followers of Our Lord could be picked out as a special group of men and were soon given the name “Christians” to describe them (Acts 11:26).

His Church was meant by Our Lord to be lasting. Before His death when speaking of it He said, “the gates of hell”- the strongest powers of the evil one-would never overcome it (Matt. 16:18). When he commissioned the Apostles to go forth to teach men for Him, He promised to be with them (living on in their successors), “all days even to the consummation of the world” (Matt. 28:20). Similarly He had promised that the Spirit of Truth would abide with them “forever” (John 14:16, 17).

Christ meant His Church to be one. He spoke only of His Church, never of His churches. He compared it to a kingdom and a sheepfold-units, single entities. He prayed that His followers might be one (John 17:20, 21), and the prayer of Christ avails, so that where the true and full followers of Christ are there will be unity. He called Himself with justice the Truth, and Truth is one. It is not something that exists in one way in the mind of one man and in the opposite way in the mind of another. It has objective reality and unless we conceive Christ as being self contradictory we must look for unity and not contradiction in His teaching. He made this clear when He told the Apostles to teach men in His name “to observe all things whatsoever I have commanded” (Matt. 28:20). If men obeyed His command and accepted all things that He taught, then they would all accept the same things and there would be unity. This was what Our Lord intended.

The Church founded by Christ was holy. He Himself was all holy. He came to make men holy. His teaching was all directed to this end. His object in making provision for His work to go on and for His teaching to reach all men-the very object of His Church then-was to make it possible for men throughout the ages to become holy and reach eternal life. To His Church He left the means of bringing men the divine help they needed to live as He desired. These helps are to be found, for instance, in Baptism, the power of forgiving sins, and the Eucharist-all committed to the care of the authority He set up in His Church.

A most important quality of the Church founded by Christ is its universality. Even before His death Our Lord said His Gospel was to be preached in the whole world (Matt. 24:14). Before His Ascension He ordered the Apostles to teach “all nations” (Matt. 28:19), to preach the Gospel to “every creature” (Mark 16:15 ). To be conscious, then, at all times of this world-wide commission embracing all races and all grades of society is a necessary mark of the Church founded by Our Lord.

It is most important to note that Our Lord meant His Church to be apostolic. He set up the Apostles as the authority over His Church. He gave them the powers of teaching and ruling in His name and to their care He entrusted the special helps He left to make men holy. He intended His Church to last, as we have seen, and therefore intended the powers He gave to the Apostles to pass on to their successors. This we see the Apostles themselves understood from the Acts of the Apostles and their Epistles. Our Lord chose the Apostles from amongst His followers. He gave them practice, along with others, in teaching in His name before His death. He spoke of a power to rule men which He would give them- “Whatsoever you shall bind upon earth shall be bound also in Heaven and whatsoever you shall loose upon earth shall be loosed also in Heaven” (Matt. 18:18). To St. Peter He promised this power is a special and personal way (Matt. 16:19).

After His Resurrection Our Lord gave His commission to them saying “As the Father has sent me, I also send you” (John 20:21). Their commission was the same as His own. As He had taught with divine authority, so should they. As he had acted as lawgiver for the good of men’s souls, so should they.

To them He said: “Going therefore, you all teach all nations . . . teaching them to observe all things whatsoever I have commanded you and behold I am with you” (Matt, 28:19, 20). “He that believes and is baptized shall be saved: but He that believes not shall be condemned” (Mark 16:16).

Since the authority Our Lord gave to the Apostles was His own authority, as we might expect, to those whom He made His mouthpiece to men, He spoke such words as guaranteed them against error when they were carrying out His commission. He promised in general that the gates of hell would not prevail against His Church, as they surely would if it fell into error and led men astray in the matters in which it was to act for Him. He promised that “the Spirit of Truth” would abide with the Apostles “forever” (John 14:16, 17) and where the Spirit of Truth is there can be no error. He promised that He Himself would be with the Apostles even as they taught, so that if there were any error it would have to be put down to Him, which is unthinkable. Moreover, He said that all men must believe the teaching of the Apostles under pain of being condemned if they refused to believe, but He could not in justice condemn men for refusing to believe what might be wrong. That threat carried with it a guarantee that there would be no error.

Such was the Church founded by Our Lord almost two thousand years ago-a religious society, visible and lasting, one, holy, universal, founded on the authority of the Apostles (which was Christ’s own authority) and infallible.

Here then was Christ’s arrangement for reaching men through the ages-His Church. Through the Apostolic Authority He set over it, His own divine words would still reach the ears of men. The power of teaching and ruling which He gave to that authority was His own divine power to teach and His own divine power to rule, and all power was His in Heaven and on earth. When this authority functioned, then, it was no human voice that men heard but the divine voice of Christ Himself.

THE CATHOLIC CHURCH IS CHRIST”S CHURCH

In the world today there are many claimants of the Christian name. They are mainly the Orthodox Church, the Protestant Churches, and the Catholic Church.

All are different from one another, one often asserting what the others deny. Where there are such differences, all cannot be right, for Truth is one and Christ is the Truth and not self-contradictory. He did not leave it to men to work out for themselves by what way they were to serve God. He pointed out one way-His way-and that way alone is right.

In the midst of the differences His Church is still to be found, otherwise His guarantees, the guarantees of God made man, go for nothing.

That Church which has qualities identical with those of the Church founded by Our Lord so long ago will be shown to be His Church, and the rest will forfeit the right to call themselves by His name.

As has been pointed out, besides the Catholic Church the main claimants of the Christian name are the Orthodox Church and the Protestant Churches. The Orthodox Church came into being as a distinct Church accepting all the Catholic Sacraments and Teachings but rejecting the role of the successor to Peter, in Rome, first in the ninth century when Photius, patriarch of Constantinople, led the Church in Greece away from unity with the Pope. The schism was healed, but renewed under Michael Cerularius, another patriarch of Constantinople in the eleventh century. Since that time it has continued in existence and the schism has been mainly exacerbated by nationalistic pride rather than theological controversy. The Orthodox Church is found mostly in Balkan countries and in parts of the Middle East. It is widespread in Russia though suffering under the cruel tyranny of communism. What claims has it to be considered the true Church of Christ?

Its members are one in belief but there is no unity of government. They attain to a high degree of holiness, still having the Mass and the Sacraments in use amongst them, but some argue that the holiness of the saints is no longer there. It is in no sense universal, being confined to a small group of countries. Moreover, at no time in its history since its separation from unity with the See of Peter has it looked upon it as an essential duty to spread the faith it has amongst all nations, and this is a necessary mark of the Church of Christ. (In fairness, it has faced enormous obstacles in combating the tyrannies of “Christian” monarchs and antagonistic Moslem and Communist enemies. Catholicism itself has had many a life and death struggle against similar opponents, but has always finally emerged both victorious and missionary.) It does not claim to be infallible. Indeed, some can be found who argue that those who exercise authority in the Orthodox Church cannot claim that that authority comes from the Apostles since, without Peter and his successor, there can be no binding decisions made for the Orthodox Church, such as were decided at the first seven Ecumenical Councils. It is, then, not identical with the Church founded by Our Lord.

Protestantism came into being in the sixteenth century, some 400 years ago or so, at what is called erroneously the Reformation. Luther, who began in the name of reform, soon led what was really a revolt against Christianity as accepted through the centuries. What was brought into being as a result of the revolt was a new thing and therefore not Our Lord’s. Any claim that Protestantism was a return to original Christianity meant that there was a time when Our Lord’s Church failed, and so His promises that His Church would endure and that the Spirit of of Truth would continue with it always had gone for nothing.

From setting out to attack abuses connected with the granting of Indulgences, Luther passed on to attack the doctrine of Indulgences itself and from that other fundamental teachings of the faith, until he had something very different from Christianity as understood till that time.

(Note on abuses: There were abuses not only in connection with the granting of indulgences in Luther’s day, but also in the granting of Church dignities and offices, and moreover in the lives of many clerics and members of the laity. These abuses were set right by the Church through the Council of Trent, but in the beginning they helped Luther, who claimed to be a reformer, although his character and actions belied the claim.)

Luther denied free will, said man was always in the state of sin and was saved without good works, by faith alone (by which he meant rather trust in Christ). He rejected as means of grace the Sacraments including the priesthood, although retaining the names of Baptism, Eucharist. and Penance for something different from what Christian Sacraments were understood to be till that time. He declared that the Bible as each one understood it himself was the sole source from which each one got his Christian faith. (Footnote: There are many reasons why “the Bible alone privately interpreted” is not the way by which to know the Christian faith. Nowhere does the Bible itself lay down such a rule so that to hold the rule one must contradict oneself. The Christian faith was already accepted and practised by men before a word of the New Testament-the most important part of the Bible for a Christian-was written. It was not complete for many years after the founding and spread of the Church. The Bible is written in languages that many do not understand. Until printing was invented in the fifteenth century the number of Bibles available was very small, so that if every man had to consult it for himself in order to have the Christian faith, it would have been an impossible task. To seek the Christian faith from the Bible by each one’s own private understanding of it could not fail to result in as many different versions of that faith as there were differences in individual understanding of the Bible. The differences and contradictions among Protestants about what is to be believed is proof that this rule was none of Our Lord’s making. To bring the faith to men Our Lord appointed Apostles and told them to “go and teach” promising to be with them as they did.)

Somewhat later, Calvin in Switzerland gave form and cohesion to the Protestant system although differing from Luther considerably. He held with Luther that the Bible alone privately interpreted was the sole rule of faith, but reduced the so called Sacraments to two, Baptism and Eucharist, and taught absolute predestination, i.e., that God made some men for Heaven and others for hell.

Lutheranism spread in parts of Germany, in the Netherlands, and in Scandinavia, where secular princes were glad to be free from ecclesiastical authority and ready to enrich themselves by taking Church property from those who they were told had no title to it. Without the backing of the princes it would not have spread. Calvin found followers in France, where they came to be called Huguenots, and in Scotland through John Knox’s activity, where they were called Presbyterians.

In England following Henry the Eighth’s breach with the Pope, during the short reign of the boy king, Edward VI, Protestantism was spread by the members of the Council of State to secure themselves and other in the possession of Church property and, after a short break during the reign of the Catholic Queen Mary, was by the latter part of Elizabeth’s reign forced on the majority of the people. Protestantism, split as it is into so many differing sects, cannot be regarded as a single body nor can any individual group rightly claim to be the Church founded by Christ.

The unity which Our Lord meant His Church to have is wanting. No group is one in doctrine. There are for instance in the Church of England, the High Church, the Low Church, and the Centre Group. Individuals even within a given group differ from one another in belief. Some Presbyterians hold that Christ is God, others deny it and so on. There is no one governing authority in any group which when it teaches or makes laws is, or can expect to be, accepted and obeyed by all.

Although there are many very good Protestants, yet in the Protestant Churches the holiness of the saints is wanting, and from Protestantism the inspiration and help necessary to make the sacrifice high sanctity calls for is sought in vain.

Protestantism is not universal. In fact, in its origin, it took the form of a national religion and in its various forms for centuries continued as such, without any consciousness of a duty to spread the faith it claimed to hold amongst the pagan nations of the world. This alone is enough to show that it is not the Church of Christ. This holds despite what present day missionary activity there is, which is of recent origin and, as it were, an after-thought.

Protestantism in any of its forms is not apostolic. It cannot claim to have, through unbroken succession from the Apostles, either what authority it lays claim to, or its teachings. It makes no claim to speak with a voice that cannot err. In no sense is it the voice of Christ bringing His teaching to men.

The Catholic Church alone can claim to be identical with that Church established by Our Lord nearly two thousand years ago.

It has, as Our Lord intended His Church to have, unity of faith, all its members believing the same doctrines, and unity of government, all submitting to the ruling authority of the Pope.

The Catholic Church is holy. Not that all Catholics are holy by any means. On this point Our Lord Himself made it clear that there would be good and bad in His Church. But its teachings are holy, calculated to make men holy, inculcating with unchanging voice humility, charity, chastity, the sanctity of marriage and the sacredness of human life, among other things which find little favour in the world of today. Moreover, it has ever been able to put at the disposal of its children, mainly in the Sacraments and the Sacrifice of the Mass, the means which, if they will use them to the full, will bring them to the highest degrees of holiness. The wonders of holiness in the lives of the saints, which must be known to be appreciated, have come from their using to the full the help and inspiration the Catholic Church has given them. From the same source great numbers have been enabled to sacrifice all that men hold dear, in order to follow the teaching of Our Lord more perfectly in a life dedicated exclusively to Him and the care of souls, in monastery and convent.

The Catholic Church is universal, knowing no national boundaries but spread among all nations and also among all grades of society. It has ever regarded it as a sacred duty to spread the faith it holds among those who know it not. In every age its missionaries have gone forth over the world even when, as at the time of the Reformation, it seemed overwhelmed with difficulties where it was long established. It has always been obedient to the command of Christ: “Teach all nations.”

The Catholic Church, is apostolic, able to trace back its authority and its teachings to the time of the Apostles, who find their successors in the Pope and its bishops. It claims, as the mouth-piece of Christ to men must claim, to speak with an unerring voice in regard to the things that are Christ’s-whatever concerns Christian faith and morality.

The Catholic Church alone can rightly claim to be identical with the Church founded by Our Lord. It alone is the true Church, and the teaching and ruling authority in it is a divine teaching and ruling authority, set up by Our Lord Himself to bring His words to men for all time.

THE POPE

To complete the picture of Our Lord’s arrangements for His Church, reference must be made to the position of supreme authority to which He appointed St. Peter and which He wished the successors of St. Peter to occupy after Him.

On the first occasion that He met St. Peter we are told that Our Lord fixed His gaze on him and said: “You are Simon the Son of Jona-you shall be called “Cephas,” (in the language Our Lord spoke) which is interpreted “Peter”,” {or “Rock”} as St. John points out (John 1:42). A similar remark was not addressed to any of the others who came to join Him and it is worth noting that when in the Old Testament we read of God’s changing a man’s name, it is when He intended him to take up a new and higher office. St. Peter is mentioned first in the lists of the Apostles although he was not the first to join Our Lord. He, with James and John, was one of the privileged three on several occasions in the life of Our Lord. Frequently we find him speaking to Our Saviour in the name of the other Apostles, as already having a recognized position among them.

About six months before His death, Our Lord promised to make him the foundation and support of the Church He would found. It was on the occasion when Our Lord, having questioned the Apostles as to who men said He was, St. Peter answered: “You are the Christ, the Son of the Living God.” Then came Our Lord’s reply and with it the promise of the primacy: “Blessed are you Simon, son of Jona, because flesh and blood have not revealed it to you but My Father Who is in Heaven and I say to you: You are Peter (i.e., the rock) and upon this rock (upon you) I will build My Church and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it. And I will give to you the keys of the Kingdom of Heaven, and whatsoever you shall bind on earth it shall be bound also in Heaven and whatsoever you shall loose on earth it shall be loosed also in Heaven” (Matt. 16:16–19).

In this reply Christ compared the Church that is to be, to a house built on a rock. As the rock foundation gives firmness and durability to the house, so will Peter give stability to the Church. He will make it so firm that the strongest powers of the evil one (the gates of hell) shall not destroy it. Now it is the supreme authority in any society which gives it stability, hence St. Peter’s position from which the Church of Christ was to get its firmness was to be one of supreme authority over it.

Then too, St. Peter was promised the keys of the Kingdom of Heaven. Among the Jews to say a man had the keys of a household signified that he was in charge of its affairs. The master of a household going away and leaving a man in charge would be said to be giving him the power of the keys. St. Peter, then, was to hold a similar position of authority over those wishing to enter heaven by the way Our Lord would appoint-through His Church.

Peter also was to receive in a special way the power to bind and loose. The other Apostles, it is true, were to have a similar power but it was to be understood in the light of the special power promised to St. Peter and to be exercised in subordination to his. To him in a special way would it belong to make laws or to annul them, to rule with an authority guaranteed in Heaven.

Our Lord gave a confirmation of these promises on the solemn occasion of the Last Supper with His Apostles. He remarked to St. Peter that they would all be assailed by Satan, “but,” He added, “I have prayed for you (singular) that your (singular) faith fail not”-whatever about his courage-and Our Lord went on to say that Peter would be the one through whom, in the end, the others would be confirmed in loyalty to Himself (Luke 22:31, 32).

It was after the Resurrection that Our Lord kept the promises made to St. Peter. On one occasion before His Ascension into Heaven, He came to a group of His disciples by the Sea of Tiberias. There He asked Peter three times did he love Him. He received in answer a threefold declaration of love. Our Lord said to him, “Feed My lambs. Tend . . . (and) feed my sheep,” (John 21:15–17).

The whole flock-all the members of His Church-were committed by the Good Shepherd Himself to one who was to be the shepherd in His place when He had left this earth. Peter’s office and duty it would be to shield, guide, and rule the Church, exercising supreme authority in the name of his Divine Master, as completely as a shepherd would control his flock.

In the Acts of the Apostles we find that St Peter was preeminent among the Apostles after Our Lord’s Ascension. There is reference to “Peter and those with him,” “Peter and the Apostles.” He worked extraordinary miracles and was the one to whom it fell by divine arrangement to receive the first Gentiles into the Church.

Since the Church was to last just as Our Lord had founded it “till the consummation of the world,” Peter was to have successors and since the members of the Church would always need the same pastor’s care, those successors were also to have the supreme authority which Christ set up precisely that the gates of hell might not prevail against His Church.

The Popes, the Bishops of Rome, are the successors of St. Peter. History attests that Peter came to Rome and there fixed his See. Thus it was that Rome could be called, as it was, “the Chair of Peter.” From St. Peter’s death his successors have governed the Church in his place, being not only Bishops of Rome but, because they were Peter’s successors, heads also of the universal Church.

We have the testimony of history that the matter was understood thus by Christians from the earliest times. Pope St. Clement (died 97 A.D.), towards the end of the first century, wrote to the people of Corinth and expected them to obey (as he put it) what Our Lord said through him. St. Ignatius, the martyr (died 107 A.D.), speaks of the Church of Rome as the teacher of others. St. Ireneus (died 200) speaks of its pre-eminent authority and the need of every Church to agree with it on that account.”Peter has spoken thus through Leo,” exclaimed the Bishops gathered in Chalcedon in the east in 451, when they heard Pope Leo’s letter against the heretic Eutyches. In this they were but repeating what had been held by their predecessors as essential to true Christianity.

The same recognition of and submission to the Roman Pontiff was shown through the centuries and is shown still by the majority of Christians, who acknowledge the Pope as the successor of St. Peter and therefore as the supreme authority appointed by Christ over His Church.

(Note: In the middle of the 19th century, John Henry Newman, an Anglican Minister and the outstanding man at the University of Oxford at the time, became a Catholic and afterwards a priest and later was created a cardinal. His close study of history had shown him what the early Christian Church was like and he found that the only Christian group which could claim to be the same as it in his day was the Catholic Church. In some published notes of his, he says that if no more could be said for the Catholic Church than that Catholics obey the Pope, that alone would be enough to show it is the true Church, for Christ made St. Peter the head of His Church; the Pope is the successor of St. Peter and Catholics who are alone in their obedience to the Pope, alone accept Our Lord’s arrangements in their entirety, submitting to the supreme authority He set over His Church. This is merely saying in another way what St. Ambrose said in the fourth century: “Where Peter is, there is the Church.”)

THE INFALLIBILITY OF THE POPE

As well as having supreme authority in the Church, the Pope is infallible.

Here is the official statement of Catholic belief in the matter-”When he speaks “ex Cathedra”,” (i.e., when, discharging his office of pastor and teacher of all Christians, in virtue of his supreme Apostolic authority, he defines doctrine concerning faith or morals to be held by the universal Church,) the Roman Pontiff enjoys that infallibility with which Our Divine Redeemer wished His Church to be endowed in defining doctrine concerning faith or morals.”

When it is said that the Pope is infallible, this means simply that in certain well-defined circumstances the Pope cannot make a mistake. It does not mean that the Pope is impeccable or cannot commit a sin. It does not mean that the Pope is especially inspired by God what to say. It simply means that in the circumstances mentioned he is preserved by God from making a mistake.

Although the Pope is infallible, he is not infallible in everything but only when he speaks “ex Cathedra” as it is called, and what that means is carefully explained. He is infallible “when discharging his office as pastor and teacher of all Christians, he defines doctrine concerning faith or morals to be held by the universal Church.”

First, he must speak as the Supreme Pastor, the head of the universal Church. If he were giving an exhortation to people in a church in Rome as their bishop or if as a private theologian he wrote works on theology, he would not be infallible.

Then, he is infallible when, teaching as Supreme Pastor, he deals with some doctrine concerning faith -what we must believe as part of what God has made known to us-or concerning morals-what we must do as part of keeping God’s law. He is not infallible in dealing with other matters, except they are so closely connected with religious truths that correct ideas concerning them are necessary to safeguard those religious truths.

Lastly, in addition to teaching as head of the Church and about matters of faith and morals, it is necessary, if the Pope is to speak infallibly, that he teach definitively, or in a way to determine the matter, something binding on all Christians. When these conditions are fulfilled, the Pope is infallible being preserved by God from error.

Our Lord made St. Peter the rock foundation on which His Church was to depend for stability. He and his successors would make it so firmthat according to Our Lord’s own promise “the gates of hell would not prevail against it.” But if Peter or his successors could err when teaching as Supreme Pastor on matters of faith or morals to be held by all the faithful, then the Church would not remain firm and the forces of error and evil would certainly be prevailing against it.

To Peter and his successors were given the keys of the Kingdom of Heaven and the power to bind men in such a way that they would thereby be bound in the eyes of Heaven. But this could not be if Peter and his successors in their capacity of Supreme Pastor were able to teach men, as something they were bound to believe, what was wrong. God would never bind men to believe possible error. Our Lord made St. Peter the shepherd ofHis flock when He said to Peter, “Feed My lambs. Feed My sheep.”

He appointed him and his successors supreme pastors of His Church. They have the office of feeding the flock with the word of truth. But if they were to err in the use of their supreme teaching authority they would not be feeding the flock as the Lord intended, but be administering to it the poisoned food of false doctrine. They would fail in what was essential to their pastor’s office, if not infallible.

It is easy, then, to understand why bishops of the early Church regarded agreement with the Church Of Rome as the safe rule of faith and looked to the Pope as to the one who “stood on the firm rock of faith.”

CONCLUSION

The following is a summary of what has been said:

From the facts of God’s existence and man’s receiving his life from God for some purpose connected with God’s honour, it follows that man has a duty to do what God made him for-to honour God in God’s way. Men left to themselves failed to find out adequately what was the purpose of their being and what their duty to God was.

As might have been expected from this, and as was necessary if God wished men to know truths about Himself quite beyond human power to discover, God made Himself known to men.

The final revelation of Himself was given when God became man.

He spent only a few short years teaching on earth and came in contact with comparatively few people, yet He plainly stated that what He had come to do and what He had to say were for the whole world. He demanded to be accepted by all.

He made provision to bring His voice to men till the end of time by founding His Church and setting up an authority in it to which He gave His Own divine power to teach and rule so that it became a duty on all who would accept Him to obey that authority even as it would obey Him.

The Catholic Church is that Church which Our Lord founded, still existing and to last till the end. Its bishops with the Pope at their head still exercise that authority-Christ’s Own divine authority-which he vested in St. Peter and the other Apostles.

When, then, the bishops of the Catholic Church meet together with the Pope at their head and teach matters of faith or morals, or when scattered throughout the world they teach on such matters with one voice in union with the Pope, or when the Pope himself teaches “ex Cathedra,” then do we know that it is the voice of Christ Our Lord we hear, and in that is there certainty of the truth.

It follows that, although every Catholic is encouraged to understand his faith as fully as possible and to see its reasonableness, yet it is enough for him to know merely that such and such a thing is the teaching of the Church in order to be assured of its truth, even as he sees that the Church’s laws are not resting on any human authority but are, by Our Lord’s Own arrangement, expressions of His Own divine will for His followers: for the authority in His Church is the authority of Christ Himself still exercised in the world.

The word of God made man, then, still comes with its fullness of truth and in all definiteness and clearness to the world through His Church.

To show by one’s life that it is being heeded fully is, as well as being a duty, a sign of gratitude for possessing it. To try to bring others to know it is another such sign, which also makes one an apostle of Christ and particularly dear to His Divine Heart.

* * * * * * * *

The Gift Divine

BY THE REV. FRANCIS J. CONNELL, C.SS.R. S.T.D

INDEX

I. THE BREAD OF LIFE

ONE day more than nineteen centuries ago a man was preaching to an attentive group in the Jewish synagogue at Capharnaum, a city situated near the Lake of Genesareth in Palestine. He was Jesus, well known to the people of that region as a prophet who taught sublime doctrines and a lofty code of morality, proclaiming them to be the revelations of God Himself. To support His claim, He performed wondrous deeds which evidently could be accomplished only with the miraculous assistance of the Almighty. Even now, as He was speaking, His listeners recalled that two days previously He had fed a multitude of five thousand persons with five barley loaves and two fishes, and some even knew that afterwards He had walked upon the waters of the storm-tossed sea to meet His disciples struggling in their tiny boat. With these thoughts in mind to persuade them that when a man exercised such extraordinary power it must be that the God of truth was attesting the correctness of His statements, the people listened to an astounding promise from the lips of Him whom Catholics acknowledge as the Son of God made man.

“I am the b read of life; he that cometh to Me shall not hunger, and he that believeth in Me shall never thirst. . . . I am the living bread which came down from heaven. If any man eat of this bread, he shall live forever; and the bread that I will give is My flesh, for the life of the world. . . . Amen, amen, I say unto you: Except you eat the flesh of the son of man and drink His blood, you shall not have life in you. He that eateth My flesh and drinketh My blood hath everlasting life, and I will raise him up in the last day. For My flesh is meat indeed and My blood is drink indeed. He that eateth My flesh and drinketh My blood abideth in Me and I in him” (John vi. 35–57).

Thus did Jesus Christ promise to give His flesh and blood to be the food and drink of men. Evidently His listeners on this occasion took His words literally, for they asked one another in astonishment: “How can this man give us His flesh to eat?” And when Christ repeated His wondrous promise in even more explicit language, many who had been His followers up to that time complained: “This saying is hard, and who can hear it?” and departed from Him forever. Then our Lord turned to the little band of twelve chosen disciples, and put the pathetic question: “Will you also go away?” With unwavering faith the loyal Peter answered: “Lord to whom shall we go? Thou hast the words of eternal life. And we have believed and have known that Thou art the Christ, the Son of God” (John vi. 53–70).

A year rolled by, and the feast of the Pasch was at hand. Christ had expressed an ardent longing to eat the ceremonial banquet ushering in that feast with His Apostles. “With desire I have desired to eat this Pasch with you before I suffer” (Luke xxii. 15). Evidently, He intended to do or to say something of great importance on this occasion. What this was He revealed after the ritual supper was ended on that memorable Thursday evening. He then took bread, rendered thanks to God, and breaking the bread gave it to His disciples with the words: “Take ye and eat; this is My body.” Then taking a cup of wine, He gave it to them to drink, with the words: “Drink ye all of this. For this is My blood of the new testament which shall be shed for many unto remission of sins.” Finally our Lord commanded that the rite which He had performed should be continued in His Church, for He said: “Do this for a commemoration of Me” (Matthew xxvi. 26–28; Luke xxii. 19).

Thus did Jesus Christ institute the sacrament of the Holy Eucharist -a sacrament venerated by Catholics as the greatest of the sacraments. Moreover, in most of the other Christian denominations a rite of this nature is administered, known among Protestants as the Lord’s Supper or Holy Communion. However, there is a vast difference of belief between Catholics and the majority of Protestants as to what this sacrament really contains. The usual Protestant view is that the Eucharist is nothing more than bread and wine, symbolizingour Lord’s body and blood. Catholics believe that this sacrament contains the living, physical flesh and blood of our Saviour; and this is known as the doctrine of the Real Presence. The Oriental churches separated from the Catholic Church such as the Greek Orthodox Church, also accept this doctrine, as do some Lutherans and Anglicans. Of course, the crucial point is the significance of Christ’s words when He promised and when He instituted this sacrament. For, since He empowered His Apostles to do whatever He had done at the Last Supper, and since their power has been transmitted to their successors in the sacred ministry, it follows that if Christ promised to give, and later actually gave His real body and blood to the little group around the supper table, the Holy Eucharist consecrated by the bishops and priests who have inherited the powers of the Apostles also contains the living Christ.

What reasons have Catholics for believing that our Saviour gave the Apostles His real body and blood? In the first place, we point to the undeniable fact that His words, both on the occasion of the promise and at the Last Supper, if taken literally, denote a true, and not a merely symbolic presence of Himself in the Holy Eucharist. He could not have expressed this more clearly or more forcibly than He did: “He that eateth My flesh and drinketh My blood hath everlasting life. . . . For My flesh is meat (food) indeed, and My blood is drink indeed. . . . This is My body . . . This is My blood.” Now, it is a universally accepted principle of interpretation that words are to be taken in their literal sense unless there are good reasons to the contrary. Are there any such reasons in the present instance? Those who deny the doctrine of the Real Presence do indeed adduce numerous arguments against the literal acceptance of Christ’s statements, but an honest examination of these arguments will show that they all have one common basis-the difficulty of understanding howour Lord’s real body and blood can be simultaneously present in thousands of places in a manner imperceptible to human senses. Now, this is only a repetition of the argument brought up by those who listened to Christ Himself at Capharnaum: “How can this man give us His flesh to eat? . . . This saying is hard, and who can hear it?” The weakness of this argument is that it measures divine power by human standards. He who has assured us that the Holy Eucharist contains His body and blood is the allpowerful, all-truthful God. Shall we twist His assertions to suit our ideas just because our puny intellects cannot understand how the miracle of the Real Presence takes place?Should we not rather exclaim with St. Peter: “Thou hast the words of eternal life,” and humbly acknowledge as divine truth the sublime doctrine which the Son of God has made known to us with His own lips?

Secondly, the attitude of those who heard Christ’s promise and His reaction furnish an argument for the Real Presence. It is very evident that they understood our Lord to be referring to His own body and blood, and not to a mere symbol. Now, from Christ’s manner of acting on other occasions we can conclude that if they had interpreted Him wrongly He would have set them right. Thus, when the disciples understood literally His announcement: “Lazarus sleepeth,” He told them plainly: “Lazarus is dead.” Again, when He spoke of meat which He had to eat, and they thought He referred to material food, He told them: “My meat is to do the will of Him that sent me” (John xi. 11–14; iv. 32–34). But on the present occasion, when it was evident that His followers were accepting His words literally, He did not say: “I intend merely to give you bread and wine as a symbol of My body and blood.” On the contrary, He repeated His promise even more explicitly; and though He saw many departing from His company, He uttered not a single word implying that He had been speaking in figurative language.

Thirdly, with His supernatural knowledge Christ foresaw that in the course of future ages millions of devout Christians, relying on His words, would accept the doctrine of the Real Presence, and adore Him as truly contained in the Holy Eucharist. With this realization before His mind, how could our Saviour have been free from the grossest deception if He did not intend His words to be taken literally and yet gave no further explanation? Indeed, if the Holy Eucharist contained nothing more than bread and wine, Christ would be responsible for innumerable sins of idolatry.

From the earliest days of its existence the Catholic Church has firmly proclaimed the doctrine of the Real Presence, as is clearly attested by the writings of the firstcenturies. St. Justin, who wrote in the second century, said: “We receive (the Holy Eucharist) not as common bread or as common drink. We have been taught that this nourishment is the flesh and blood of the incarnate Jesus” (Apologia I, 66). Tertullian, writing in the third century, stated: “Our flesh feeds on the body and blood of Christ, that our soul may be nourished by God” (De Resurrectione Carnis, 8). Such quotations from the early writers could be multiplied almost indefinitely. It was only in the eleventh century that the doctrine of the Real Presence was first denied explicitly by one claiming to be a Christian-a certain Berengarius. Very few followed his teaching until the sixteenth century, when a large number of those who accepted the new creed of Protestantism, especially as proclaimed by Calvin and Zwingli, rejected the traditional belief of Christians in the reality of Christ’s sacramental presence. However, Martin Luther and his disciples upheld the Real Presence in the Holy Eucharist, although they dissented from the Catholic Church as to the manner in which Christ takes up His abode in this sacrament.

In the Catholic Church the Holy Eucharist is the very center of worship and devotion, and as the most excellent of the sacraments is often known as “The Blessed Sacrament.” In view of the sublimity of the doctrine of the Real Presence it is not surprising that Catholic poets and painters and musicians have devoted the best efforts of their artistic genius toward expressing veneration and affection for the Son of God, ever dwelling in our midst in the Holy Eucharist and thus fulfilling in a wonderful manner His consoling promises: “Behold, I am with you all days, even to the consummation of the world” (Matthew xxviii. 20).

II. THE THEOLOGY OF THE HOLY EUCHARIST

Although our Saviour has told us clearly that He is truly present in the Holy Eucharist, He has not explained fully the manner of His presence. Nevertheless, from a careful study of what He has told us, the Church and Catholic theologians under the guidance of the Church have compiled a systematic and fairly extensive explanation of the mode in which Christ is present in the Blessed Sacrament. We can divide the Church’s doctrines and the teachings of theology on this subject into two classes—those concerning the manner in which our Lord becomes present, and those concerning the manner in which He remains present. Under the first heading the most important point is the doctrine, taught by the Catholic Church as an article of faith, that our Lord becomes present in the Holy Eucharist by that process of change of the bread and wine known as transubstantiation. We could imagine various ways in which the Real Presence could take place. Doubtless Christ could enter into the substances of the bread and wine and coexist with them, somewhat as fire exists in and with a mass of molten metal. This view of the sacramental presence, known as the doctrine of consubstantiation, was defended by Martin Luther, and is accepted by many present-day Lutherans. Or, perhaps the soul of Christ could be united to the substance of the bread or wine in each host or chalice, making out of each a body. But in this latter case our Lord would not have the same body in the Holy Eucharist that He has in heaven, but would have a new body wherever the Holy Eucharist would be consecrated. However, all such modes are excluded by the clear teaching of the Catholic Church that our Lord becomes present by transubstantiation-that is, the change of the entire substance of the bread and of the wine into the same body of our Saviour that was born of the Virgin Mary and is now in heaven at the right hand of the Father.

Every material thing is made up of substance and accidents. The accidents are those elements which are perceived by our senses, such as color and taste and quantity. The substance is the thing beneath the accidents, supporting them in existence, yet itself imperceptible. Thus, we refer to the whiteness of the bread, the sweetness of the wine, the height of the tree, thus indicating that whiteness or sweetness or height is distinct from that which constitutes the substance of bread or wine or wood. Now, at the consecration of the Mass it is the substance of bread or wine that is changed into the body or blood of our Saviour, not the accidents. Moreover, the entire substance of bread or wine is changed, and thus this process differs essentially from any of the substantial changes that take place according to the laws of nature. For in the case of a natural substantial change-such as the change of wood into carbon or the change of hydrogen and oxygen into water- something of the previous substance is carried over into the ensuing substance, while only the element that determines each substance to be what it is differs in the two substances involved. The element common to both is called the matter, the distinctive element of each is called the form. Accordingly, a natural substantial change is called a transformation, because only the form of the previous substance passes away and only the form of the ensuing substance is new. But in transubstantiation both matter and form of the bread or wine pass away, the substance of our Lord’s body or blood being entirely different. All this is implied in our Lord’s own words: “This is My body.” For these words indicated that the substance of the bread was no longer present, but had been changed into the substance of Christ’s body. Furthermore, it was a change of the entire substance of the bread, because what was then present was the identical body which the Apostles saw before them, and that differed both as to matter and as to form from the substance of the bread which Christ had taken from the table.

The accidents of the bread and wine remain unchanged. These accidents -also called appearances or species-could not naturally continue to exist without a material substance to support them, but in the Holy Eucharist they are miraculously sustained in being by the direct power of the Almighty. There is no more difficulty involved in this than if God were to support a stone in the air without any created cause to hold it up. Consequently, the eucharistic species continue to act in the same manner as they would if the substance of bread or wine were still upholding them. Our senses perceive the color, the taste, the odor of bread and wine. When the Blessed Sacrament is consumed in Holy Communion, the same process of digestion and nutrition ensues as if bread had been eaten. All this is quite normal, since the accidents continue to exist unchanged. For a material substance is not of itself perceptible or active; it is perceived and it acts only through its accidents. Hence, the consecrated species, being preserved in existence by the power of God, function in the same manner as if the substances of bread and wine were still present.

Under the doctrines concerning the manner in which our Lord remains present in the Holy Eucharist comes first the truth of His permanent abiding. This means that after the consecration Christ remains present under the sacramental species as long as they retain the appearances proper to them as the accidents of bread and wine. It is only when the process of digestion or disintegration produces such a change in the consecrated species that they no longer have the taste, color, etc., of bread and wine that the Real Presence ceases. Some ancient writers held that Christ leaves the sacred host when it is given in Communion to a sinner; and the Lutherans believe that our Lord is present only during the Communion service. The Catholic Church on the contrary teaches the permanence of the Real Presence in the sense just explained. This doctrine is the basis of the many devotions practiced in the Catholic Church in honor of the Holy Eucharist outside the time of Mass and Holy Communion, such as Benediction, the Forty Hours” Devotion and visits to the Blessed Sacrament in the tabernacle.

Another Catholic doctrine explanatory of the man ner of Christ’s presence asserts its totality. This means that our Lord is present in His entirety-that is, with His body, blood, soul and divinity-under each of the two consecrated species. It is true, the words of consecration spoken over the bread signify and effect of themselves the presence of His body only; but since the body that becomes present is the same body that is now enthroned in heavenly glory, and that body is inseparably united to the blood, the soul and the divine personality, the entire Christ becomes present under the accidents of bread. In theological language we say that the body of our Lord is present in the host by the power of the words of consecration, while His blood, soul and divinity are present by concomitance. Similarly we conclude that under the accidents of wine the blood of Christ is present by the power of the words of consecration, while His body, soul and divinity are present by concomitance.

Moreover, Christ is entirely present in each portion of the consecrated host and of the consecrated species of wine. We cannot, of course, fully understand how a complete human body can be truly present in so small a compass, and can be simultaneously present in many thousands of consecrated hosts and chalices; yet we can acquire a limited conception of these marvels by analyzing the idea of quantity. When we think of a body as having quantity, the first thing we attribute to it is a number of parts, each related to the others and distinct from them. This aspect of quantity we call internal extension. Next we conceive the body as occupying a definite space, so that the whole body fills the whole space, and each part fills a distinct part of the space. This we call external extension.Now, we believe that while our Lord’s body in the Blessed Sacrament has the first element of quantity, it does not possess the second in relation to the place occupied by the consecrated species. The various parts of His body-head, trunk, limbs, etc.-are present in their full perfection and proportion, entirely distinct from one another. But, by a miracle, His body is not contained in the place where the Blessed Sacrament is present in such wise that each part of the body occupies a different part of the place, as is the case with our bodies. On the contrary, it is present somewhat after the manner in which a person’s soul is present in his body-wholly and entirely in every part. And since our Lord’s body is not restricted by the space-boundaries of any particular host, it can exist simultaneously in any number of consecrated hosts throughout the entire world.

Since the body of Christ in the Blessed Sacrament is the same body that is present in heaven, it performs on the altar the same actions that it is eliciting with its faculties in the kingdom of the blessed—for example, gazing on the radiant beauty of our Lady and speaking to her. The question naturally arises, whether our Lord with His bodily eyes sees those who kneel in adoration before the Blessed Sacrament and with His bodily ears hears their prayers and hymns of praise. It seems that He does not, since His senses have no external extension in the Holy Eucharist, and so are not adapted to receive impressions from what goes on around them. Doubtless by a miracle His body could be rendered capable of such sense-perception, but such a miracle is not called for, since in the vision of the divine nature which His human intellect always possesses Christ dearly beholds the thoughts and actions of all men. And so, when we kneel before the Blessed Sacrament we can be assured that our every act of adoration and of love, our every manifestation of devotion, are perfectly known by Him whom we venerate beneath the Eucharistic species. And the realization of the wonderful miracles wrought by divine omnipotence to give us the living Christ for our strength and consolation should prompt us to exclaim from the depths of our hearts:

O Sacrament most holy, O Sacrament divine, All praise and all thanksgiving be every moment thine.

III. THE LITURGY OF THE HOLY EUCHARIST

The ceremonies centered about the Holy Eucharist are of two types-those established by Christ and those established by the Church. The former were performed by our Lord at the Last Supper, and consisted of the consecration-that is, the change of the bread and wine into His body and blood by the words: “This is My body. . . . . This is My blood of the new testament which shall be shed for many unto remission of sins”-and the distribution of Holy Communion to His disciples.* This ceremony which took place at the Last Supper was not only the institution and the administration of a sacrament but also the offering of a sacrifice. By a sacrifice is meant a religious rite designed to honor God and to atone for sin by offering to the Almighty a victim, and destroying or slaying it. That Christ offered a sacrifice at the Last Supper with His own body and blood as the victim is evident from His own words. For He said of His body, present under the species of bread, that it was being given for you (Luke xxii. 19), and of His blood, present under the species of wine, that it was being shed unto remission of sins (Matthew xxvi. 28). Such expressions clearly indicate that He was performing a sacrificial rite.

Since then our Saviour offered a sacrifice at the Last Supper, the rite in which the Holy Eucharist is consecrated -the Mass, as we call it-is also a sacrifice. For the Mass is the repetition of what He did at the Last Supper, in compliance with His command: “Do this for a commemoration of Me.” The supreme sacrifice of the Christian dispensation is indeed our Saviour’s death on the cross. By the efficacy of this sacrifice the Eternal Father received infinite honor and thanksgiving, and all men received sufficient means for the pardon of their sins and for the attainment of eternal life. The Mass does not add any merit or satisfaction to the sacrifice of the Cross; it merely applies to men the merits and satisfactions of this sacrifice. Nevertheless, the Mass is a true sacrifice, giving honor and thanks to God, renewing the Sacrifice of the Cross, and having as its victim and principal priest the same Christ who was the victim and the priest in the sacrifice of the first Good Friday. The chief difference between the two is that whereas on the cross our Lord’s blood was really shed and He really died, in the Mass His blood is separated from His body only figuratively, by the twofold consecration of the bread into His body and the wine into His blood.** We say that on Calvary Christ was immolated in a bloody manner, in the Mass in an unbloody manner; or, that on Calvary He really died, in the Mass He dies only mystically.

* Although the scriptural narrative does not state that our Saviour Himself received Holy Communion at the Last Supper, it is probable that He did so.

**Although our Lord is present wholly and entirely under each of the two species, as far as the words of consecration are concerned only His body becomes present under the species of bread and only His blood under the species of wine. Hence, in the twofold consecration there is a vivid representation of Christ’s death.

Some theologians believe that the Last Supper and the Cross were two distinct sacrifices, while others think they were the two parts of one and the same sacrifice- the offering and the immolation respectively. However, this question is very secondary to the important doctrines on which all Catholics agree- that both at the Last Supper and on Calvary Our Lordperformed a sacrificial function, and that the Mass is a true sacrifice renewing the “sacrificial death of Christ in a mystical manner, just as the rite of the Last Supper in a mystical manner anticipated it.

As was said above, Christ is the principal priest in the offering of every Mass, inasmuch as He instituted this sacred rite and commissioned the Apostles and their successors in the ministry to continue it in His name. Perhaps, too, He takes a direct and immediate part in the celebration of every Mass, invisibly exercising His priestly power in union with the visible priest when he says the words: “This is My body . . . This is My blood.” Only those can offer Mass as officiating priests who have received the priestly power through the sacramental rite of ordination from bishops who in turn have received their power in an unbroken line of succession from the Apostles. However, in this group are included not only Catholic priests but also the priests of the non-Catholic Oriental churches, in which bishops have been properly consecrated and priests properly ordained even after these churches separated from Catholic unity. But the Catholic Church does not recognize the power to offer the Holy Sacrifice in the clergymen of the Anglican Church, because in the sixteenth century this denomination changed the rite of ordination so that it was no longer able to confer the priesthood.

The second class of eucharistic ceremonies, those established by the Church, are numerous and inspiring. Thus, the simple form of sacrificial act established by Christ-the consecration and Communion- has been enhanced in the course of time by the Church’s legislation adding the reading of portions of the Old and New Testament, prayers of praise, thanksgiving and petition, the use of incense, vestments, music, etc. In these matters there is considerable diversity in different parts of the Church, especially between the Western (or Latin) church and the Eastern (Oriental) churches. Thus, at the present day the Holy Sacrifice is offered by Catholics in eleven different languages and seventeen different rites, or ceremonial usages. Among Eastern Christians the term Liturgy is used to designate the eucharistic sacrifice, which Latin Catholics call the Mass. Although the additions made by the Church to this sacred rite are not necessary to make it a sacrifice, priests are strictly obliged to employ them, apart from very extraordinary circumstances. For example, in lands where the Church is being persecuted the Pope sometimes permits priests to offer Mass in an abbreviated form and without the use of vestments. But there never can be any dispensation from the essential features of the Holy Sacrifice instituted by Christ-the consecration of both bread and wine and the Communion (at least of the priest).

Although only an ordained priest can celebrate Mass, the laity also participate in the offering of the Holy Sacrifice. For the act of sacrifice is a public function, performed in the name of a society; and so, it is in reality the entire Church that offers each Mass through the priest as a public official. Accordingly, the laity assisting at Mass should realize that they are collaborating with the priest at the altar in offering the Divine Victim to His heavenly Father, and should join in the sacred rite as intimately as possible. For this purpose it is commendable to follow the prayers and ceremonies in a Missal. To receive Holy Communion during the Mass is also a praiseworthy act, since it is not only the reception of the sacrament of the Holy Eucharist but is likewise the partaking of the Victim of the eucharistic sacrifice. And although strictly speaking only the priest who celebrates Mass is obliged to partake of the Holy Eucharist at the Communion, it is the wish of the Church that at every Mass some of the laity receive the body and blood of our Saviour “in order that more abundant fruit of this most holy sacrifice may come to them,” as the Council of Trent expressed it (Denzinger, Enchiridion, n. 944).

In most of the Eastern rites the faithful communicate under the appearances of both bread and wine, and this was the custom in the Latin Church also in the early centuries. But since the fifteenth century, according to the general law in the Latin Church,* Holy Communion is administered under the species of bread alone, so that only priests celebrating Mass receive both species. There are good reasons for this, such as the danger that the consecrated species of wine may be spilled. Ancient tradition justifies this practice, for although in the early days of Christianity both species were ordinarily * There are some exceptions. For example, the deacon and the subdeacon at the Pope’s Solemn Mass receive the Blessed Sacrament under both species. administered, there were some exceptions. Thus, those who were confined to bed by sickness or were in prison were given only the species of bread, while infants were sometimes communicated immediately after Baptism with the species of wine alone. The doctrinal basis of this restriction of Holy Communion to one species is the Catholic teaching that Christ is entirely present under each species, so that a person who receives only the species of bread receives the body, blood, soul and divinity of our Saviour just as completely as a person who receives both species. It is worth noting that a Latin Catholic is permitted to receive Holy Communion under both species from an Oriental Catholic priest in whose rite the Blessed Sacrament is administered in this manner.

Out of reverence for the Holy Eucharist the Church prescribes that ordinarily one may not receive Holy Communion unless he has abstained from all food and drink since midnight. In reckoning midnight one may follow any system of time that may be to his advantage. Thus, when daylight saving time prevails, a person need not begin this eucharistic fast until 1 A. M., which is midnight by standard time. However, one who is not fasting may receive Holy Communion as viaticum if he is in danger of death, and also may consume the Blessed Sacrament to preserve It from violation. Moreover, one who has been confined to bed by illness for a month and has no hope of a speedy recovery may receive Holy Communion once or twice a week, with the advice of his confessor, after having taken medicine or liquid nourishment. Finally, the Holy See sometimes grants special permission to individuals or groups to receive Holy Communion after taking food or drink when it would be impossible or very difficult for them to observe the eucharistic fast.

The eucharistic ceremonies in vogue in the Catholic Church besides Mass and Holy Communion, such as Benediction, processions of the Blessed Sacrament, visits to our Lord in the tabernacle, are of ecclesiastical origin. They are of long standing use in the Church and are commended to the devotion of the faithful as a means of animating their faith and stimulating their love toward Him who for love of us dwells ever in our midst.

IV. THE DIVINE GUEST OF THE SOUL

When promising the Holy Eucharist our divine Saviour said: “Amen, amen I say to you, except you eat the flesh of the Son of man and drink His blood, you shall not have life in you” (John vi. 54). From these words it is evident, that there is a grave obligation incumbent on all the members of Christ’s Church to receive Holy Communion. However, it is not the same type of obligation as that which binds all men to receive Baptism, or that which binds those who have sinned grievously after Baptism to receive Penance. These obligations are concerned with a means necessary to salvation, whereas the obligation to receive the Holy Eucharist denotes only a precept to be fulfilled. However, it is a divine precept, since it was imposed by the Son of God. Our Lord did not specify how frequently we must receive His body and blood, but left the determination of this matter to His Church. In the earlier centuries the faithful were commanded to approach the holy table at least three times a year-at Christmas, Easter and Pentecost; but in 1215 the Fourth Council of the Lateran decreed that those who have reached the age of discretion must receive Holy Communion at least once a year, and that at Easter. This legislation still prevails.* Moreover, Catholics old enough for Holy Communion are obliged to receive the Holy Eucharist as viaticum (literally “food for a journey”) when they are in danger of death.

The Lateran Council mentioned above decreed that the obligation to receive Holy Communion should be gin with “the years of discretion,” and until comparatively recent times this phrase was generally interpreted as signifying the age of ten or twelve years. However, in 1910 a decree of the Roman Congregation of the Sacraments, approved by Pope Pius X, prescribed that the age of discretion is to be understood as synonymous with the age of the beginning of reason, which usually occurs about the seventh year. And so, in recent times little ones of tender years have been admitted to the holy table. Of course, children only seven years old cannot be expected to have an adequate understanding of the Holy

* ‘The Easter season, during which this precept can be fulfilled, by the general law of the Church lasts from Palm Sunday to Low Sunday, two weeks. For good reasons a bishop may extend this period in his diocese from the fourth Sunday of Lent to Trinity Sunday, eleven weeks. In the United States, by special dispensation, the Easter season lasts from the first Sunday of Lent to Trinity Sunday, fourteen weeks.

Eucharist; yet, this does not prevent our Lord from lavishing His graces on these innocent souls, so dear to His Sacred Heart. Instructions in Christian doctrine are indeed given to children in preparation for their first Holy Communion, but only a limited knowledge is required of them, and still less is necessary in order that a child in danger of death may be given the viaticum.

Even though Christ had not explicitly commanded us to receive Holy Communion, we could conclude from the very nature of the Blessed Eucharist that we ought to partake regularly of this adorable sacrament. For Christ has established the Holy Eucharist to be the spiritual food of our souls. Now, just as our bodies need material nourishment to retain their strength and to ward off disease, so our souls need the supernatural food of our Saviour’s body and blood to preserve their spiritual vigor and to overcome temptation. And while the Church obliges her members by strict command to receive Holy Communion only once a year, she certainly recommends more frequent communion. Pope Pius X in 1905 invited all Catholics even to daily communion, and pointed out that the only conditions required are the state of grace and a right intention. And in view of the appalling dangers to faith and morals which modern times have witnessed, we cannot doubt but that the Holy Ghost inspired the saintly Pontiff to propose to the faithful this effective means of keeping their souls in the love and friendship of God.

Just as material food will be beneficial only to a living body, so the Holy Eucharist will produce its effects only in a soul that possesses the spiritual life of sanctifying grace.* In other words, the Holy Eucharist is one of the sacraments of the living. However, one who has committed mortal sin since his last confession is not permitted to receive Holy Communion merely after making an act of perfect contrition. Such an act does indeed put the sinner in the state of grace; and it would suffice for the worthy reception of the other sacraments of the living. Of course, the person who would receive one of these sacraments in such circumstances must necessarily have the intention of confessing his sins subsequently. But there is a special law, frequently proclaimed in the official legislation of the Church, prescribing that one who is conscious of mortal sin may not receive the Holy Eucharist until he has first received the Sacrament of Penance. Only very extraordinary circumstances would exempt a person from this law. For example, if one had already taken his place at the communion-rail and only then realized that he was in mortal sin, he could make an act of perfect contrition and receive Holy Communion. But the mere fact that others will be surprised if one does not approach the holy table is not a sufficient justification for this manner of acting.

The effects of a worthy Holy Communion are many and sublime, and may be aptly compared to the effects produced in the body by nourishing food. In this latter case the first effect is that the food unites itself with the body and becomes one with it. So, too, Holy Communion produces a spiritual union between Christ and the soul, in accordance with our Lord’s words:

“He that eateth My flesh and drinketh My blood abideth in Me and I in him” (John vi. 57). We say “spiritual union,” for although Christ’s body and blood are physically present in the communicant, they do not mingle physically with his body, but remain unchanged until the disintegration of the accidents. However, as long as our Lord is present, there is so intimate a spiritual union between Himself and the devout communicant that the two can be said to be one in affection.

The effects of this spiritual union in the soul are analogous to those resulting in the body from material nourishment, and are classified by the Council of Florence under the four headings of sustenance, growth, refreshment and joy. The Holy Eucharist sustains the strength of the soul by imparting graces to overcome temptation, especially temptations to impurity. It helps the soul to grow in sanctifying grace and in love for God. It refreshes the soul by inspiring it to acts of divine charity and contrition, whereby venial sins and the punishment due to sins already forgiven are remitted. It also brings joy to the soul-sometimes sensible consolation, but always that more stable and more profound happiness which consists in an eagerness to do God’s will.

*It is probable that by exception Holy Communion received by a person in mortal sin will forgive his sins and confer sanctifying grace provided the recipient does not realize the wrong he is doing and has imperfect contrition, or attrition, for his sins. Such a situation, as is evident, could occur very rarely.

Holy Communion also produces a social effect, in that it unites all Catholics into one great family, irrespective of national and educational and economic distinctions. It is true, Baptism fundamentally constitutes the bond between the members of the Church, but the Holy Eucharist fosters this unity so effectively that it is sometimes called “the sacrament of unity.” For, rich and poor, learned and unlearned, Europeans and Africans and Americans gather at the same banquet table to partake of the same food, the body and the blood of Christ, the Saviour of all mankind. And greater aid toward the promotion of peace and friendliness among men is provided by this common participation in the Holy Eucharist than by man-made pacts and International laws.

The effects of Holy Communion are proportionate to the fervor of the recipients. Hence, it is most important that we prepare devoutly and attentively for each Holy Communion. It is sometimes stated that a single Holy Communion can make the recipient a saint; and the statement is no exaggeration, for as far as the power of the Blessed Sacrament is concerned, there is no limit to the graces it can bestow. The only limitations are those set by the dispositions of mind and heart found in the communicants. Besides a devout preparation, we should also make a fervent thanksgiving, for our Lord is truly present within our breast for about fifteen minutes after the actual reception of Holy Communion, and this amount of time at least should be employed in acts of ardent love and of petition for the graces we need.

We have been speaking of the benefits conferred on men by the Holy Eucharist as a sacrament. As a sacrifice the Holy Eucharist is intended primarily to adore and to thank God and to atone to Him for sin. However, it also obtains actual graces for those who share in its efficacy and obtains for them the remission of some of the debt of temporal punishment. The most practical way of benefiting by both the sacrificial and the sacramental power of the Holy Eucharist is to assist attentively at Mass and to receive Holy Communion devoutly.

The most common name of the great sacrament we have been studying -the Holy Eucharist-indicates the sentiment that should predominate in our heart when we think of this supreme gift of our Blessed Saviour. For the word “Eucharist” means “Thanksgiving.” This name is given to the sacrament of Christ’s body and blood because at its institution He gave thanks to His Father (Matthew xxvi. 27). It is a most appropriate title because through the eucharistic sacrifice we can best thank the Almighty for His favors to us, and also because this name reminds us that we should ever be grateful to our Lord for giving us Himself in this sacrament. And the most suitable way to show our gratitude is to make the Holy Eucharist the very center of our lives, proving by our devout assistance at Mass, our frequent visits to the Blessed Sacrament and our fervent reception of Holy Communion that we are profoundly thankful to the Son of God for this most precious gift of His love.

Imprimi Potest:

WILLIAM T. McCARTY, C.SS.R., Provincial Superior.

Brooklyn, N. Y., November 9, 1939.

Nihil Obstat:

ARTHUR J. SCANLAN, S.T.D., Censor Librorum. lmprimatur:

@ FRANCIS J. SPELLMAN, Archbishop of New York.

New York, December 14, 1939.

********

The Girl Worth Choosing

FOR THE BOY WHO CHOOSES AND THE GIRL WHO WANTS TO BE CHOSEN

BY DANIEL A. LORD S.J

INDEX

This is for the boy with his eyes on the future. But it is for the girl who is thinking ahead. It is meant to help a boy pick out the right girl, and to help the girl be the kind that will be happily and permanently picked.

If you are a boy not in love, yet expect someday to be, this booklet is meant to guide you in picking the girl worth loving. If you are in love, there is still time for you, my young friend, to appraise the girl and decide whether she is the sort who will hold your love as the years slip by.

As for the girl, the suggestions in this booklet will make you more lovable. This is no guide to glamour. But it is a guide to the feminine characteristics that attract a young man and make a mature man glad that in his youth you attracted him.

Choosing the right girl is one of life’s great decisions. Upon it depends more of a man’s future happiness than at the time he faintly guesses. Romance fades and realism sets in; the dream is gone and the damsel remains. The enchantment of fascination disappears but the enchainment can remain a delightful partnership or a life sentence.

While some girls, in the blessed providence of God, are meant to know His full love and their own personal dedication to Him and His little ones, for most girls the matter of who picks them out and says, “Will you ?” is terribly important. It is important to be chosen by the right man. Better not be chosen at all rather than find the man who asks you has asked you for all the wrong reasons.

LOVE IS ENOUGH?

“Aw,” protests the young man, “what kind of a business deal does he think marriage is? Love is enough. Love will point out the perfect girl for me. One look, and I’ll say, “This is the one!” Isn’t that the way the popular songs go? Doesn’t it happen like that in the movies?”

I shouldn’t, if I were you, trust too far the popular song-pluggers or the actors and actresses who play at love on the screen. Their married lives are seldom a pattern of successful and enduring love.

Falling in love is almost too easy. People do it all the time, and sometimes many times over. Someday in greying maturity, you will look back in amazement at the number of girls you briefly thought you loved. Most young men say, “This is the one,” after a quick look at a litany of maidens.

Marrying is something very different.

Marrying is the heart and the head working together. It is love that to “Isn’t she lovely?” adds “And what a lovely disposition;” to “Isn’t she beautiful?” quickly joins “And what a beautiful soul!” Marriage turns love into a permanent state. Until marriage, the girl you love comes and goes; with marriage she stays on. Love may be blind; but marriage gives you plenty of time to look at the girl and really see her.

It is easy to marry; it takes a lot of co-operation between two well-matched and congenial people to stay happily married.

BEFORE AND AFTER

The disillusioned married man was once the enthralled bridegroom. He comes to a friend with a startled look in his eye, crying, “If I had only known her beforehand as I know her now!” Or, angrily and in frustration, he waves his arms at an unsympathetic world: “Why didn’t somebody tell me? Why wasn’t I given some tests that I could have applied before I married the girl?”

Now the simple fact remains: A girl is not changed by marriage. She is the same in disposition and abilities, in character and virtue after the honeymoon as she was before she was fitted for her bridal gown.

More than that, the shrewd observer could have seen in the girl the qualities that would make her a good or poor wife-a happy mother or a complaining shrew. All the signs were there. Many a casual person saw them. It was the lover, blinded by his emotions, who missed the obvious. He in some cases deliberately preferred to be blind. “She’ll change,” he persuaded himself. Or, “I like the fact that she can’t cook . . . Isn’t her continuous chatter delightful? . . . Of course, she hasn’t grown up, but she will . . . I know she is extravagant with her parents’ money; but she won’t be that way with mine.”

THE TIME TO LOOK

Before marriage, not after, is the time to find out what sort of person the girl really is.

Laugh if you like, but many a highly successful marriage was worked out by the parents of the boy and the girl. The lad’s mother and father knew that the girl was charming, good, virtuous, an excellent cook, a fine manager, with a pleasant disposition. She was no Miss Universe; but twenty years from now when her beautiful character had given her grace and a durable smile and comfortable understanding and instinctive good manners, how lucky the man who had married her!

Since parents haven’t much to do with marriage choices these days, the young man had better do some tall and serious thinking for himself. We Americans are wild advocates of the romantic marriage. And we are also an international disgrace for the way our marriages go to pieces on the rocks. Quite obviously a “glamour puss” is not necessarily a successful wife. She may be a Wow in a ball gown but she may also shy away in horror from the waving of an apron. She may have a clever line of chatter that is hollow as the rattle of castanets.

So before marriage, during what is first friendship and the beginning of courtship, the wise young man looks and listens and judges and appraises. He quite reasonably expects that the girl is sensible enough to give him the same treatment. Precisely the sort of person not to marry is the person (male or female) who rushes into marriage without thought, planning, or more than a heart-throbbing acquaintance with a life-time partner.

Look, young man, and study the signs.

Don’t, young lady, even consider marrying a man who doesn’t look and study.

Don’t be hurt, young fellow, if the girl is slow to decide whether she thinks you are up to the standard she has set. Run like a startled deer, young miss, from the hunter who shouts first at his quarry and then asks what kind of trophy he has bagged.

To put it simply: Look before you love.

Or for the girls, let’s say: Be complimented by the long and thoughtful look of a good man and be sure you can stand in honest scrutiny.

SIMPLE TESTS

What should a young man planning marriage look for?

What qualities should a young woman develop that would attract a fine, intelligent man, and hold a devoted, faithful husband?

Let’s start with that all-important thing called disposition.

“Disposition” is a word that comes from the verb “dispose.” And “dispose” means “arrange.” How is the girl disposed towards things and people around her? How does she arrange her actions to fit the people she meets and the circumstances that arise?

The ancient verse used to say (and we change only the noun):

“It’s easy enough to be pleasant

When love runs along like a song;

But the maid who’s worth while

Is the maid who can smile

When everything goes dead wrong.”

That was said first of men. But disposition is not so different in men or women. How is she disposed towards pleasant days or gloomy weather . . . towards plenty of spending money or a sudden shortage . . . to a new spring outfit or last year’s that must do for this season . . . towards the party when some other girl takes the spotlight . . . towards old people and young children . . . towards a week full of dates and a week when-for some reason-the phone doesn’t ring . . . towards the school election that chose her Queen of the May and the class election that found her missing the presidency by one vote ?

THAT PRECIOUS SMILE

A lot of future life would be simplified for the young man who learned to read girls’ smiles :

The quick spontaneous smile of good humour . . .

The smile that breaks when things have broken badly . . .

The smile with which a hard job is accepted . . .

The smile that is the outward sign of inward grace . . .

For cheerfulness is just one of the really important elements of a woman’s disposition. A man battles the world all day, and it’s often enough a tough, ratty world that cuffs him and growls at him and snaps about his ears, and digs pointed elbows into his ribs. When he comes home, he has a right to ask cheerfulness. The smile of his wife at the door is the real love-light that should be burning for him. And he can drop into an armchair of peace if he is welcomed by the cheerful good humour, the dimpled smile, the easy gaiety of his wife.

Many a woman has wisely cultivated a smile.

Girls with charming dimples may well have learned before their mirror that a smile is the way to wake them in fullest fascination.

There are forced smiles . . . and artificial smiles . . . and smiles that are turned on and off with some sort of inner switch, actually emotionless as an electric bulb.

Public entertainers learn to flash their smiles, no more sincere than the tears shed by a Johnny Ray or a singing crocodile. As the chorus line dances onto the stage, the tired, gloomy, unsmiling faces of the girls will seem to catch fire from the footlights; and practised smiles in magnificent insincerity will burst on every face.

In a way, a smile is less of the lips and the dimples than it is of the eyes. A mouth may curve in a smile and the eyes remain dead and lifeless. But eyes cannot smile without the whole face waking to cheerfulness and charm.

CHEERFULNESS FIRST

The test of cheerfulness is, of course, any sort or difficulty.

A girl cannot be other than cheerful when a young man dances attention on her, when she is heavily dated, when her frock is fresh and flattering; when Dad lets her borrow the car, and Mother slips her an extra green bill for incidental expenses.

The time to see whether or not a girl is cheerful is when things go badly:

It rains and spoils the picnic.

You are sorry but whereas you expected to take her to the expensive restaurant with the name band, you admit you are able to afford only a movie and a hamburger.

Mother says, “Sorry, dear, your father and I just have to go out tonight; and you have to stay home and take care of the youngsters.”

She has a fresh manicure, but it is also her turn to do the dinner dishes.

She expected to be the school’s prom queen, but the other girl wins the place.

Despite her honest efforts, she does not win a place in the school competition.

She captains a team that loses.

Her baby brother runs his hands, heavy with chocolate and jam, over her new linen suit.

You sincerely wanted to take her out, but if you don’t stay home and study, you’ll barely scrape through.

SMALL TESTS

Small tests are the big tests; for big tests come rarely in life. The cheerful wife and the cheerful mother will be the girl who can take small mishaps with a grin; who doesn’t get upset by the tricks of everyday incidents; who can smile and even laugh a little at the trifling disappointments of life.

Watch the girl for the small things. Those are the things you and your wife will have to face later on. Cheerfulness is the precious sunshine of a home; and if the wife has it, the home is bright and beautiful indeed.

MANNERS

Always a young man can think of a girl in these two ways:

1. Someday I shall depend upon her for my personal happiness, once she is my wife.

2. Someday my children will take their manners and their morals from her, once she is their mother. So, in this day when manners are not too much prized by the younger generation, you’d be wise to take a good look at the manners of the girl you are thinking of choosing.

“Manners”- the word- expresses exactly what it intends to say:

The manner, the way in which a person habitually acts.

The manner, the way she talks.

The manner, the way she acts towards people.

The manner, the way she eats.

All those external gestures make the difference between a savage and a civilized person, a barbarian and a pleasant member of society.

A woman with pleasant manners is a delightful person to have around. A woman without pleasant manners can be a shrew, a harridan, a back-fence gossip, a rude, ill-bred, fish-wifely, gutterish person.

So you might nicely do a little listening to her voice and the way she speaks. You will have to listen to that voice for the rest of your days. Good grammar? Pleasant modulation? Sharpness of ton ? Sudden squeals or blasts or outcries of rage or indignation? Too many words for too few ideas ? No words at all, or so few that you question if she has ideas?

Does she say “thank you” for your gifts, and say it charmingly and with real appreciation? You might notice whether “please” figures in her normal speech, not merely towards you whom she is trying to impress but towards younger children, salespeople, waiters and waitresses, her teachers.

A gentle tongue may come under the head of virtue rather than manners, yet even when a tongue is not concerned with sin, it is certainly concerned with our comfort.

Heaven deliver a good man from a complaining woman . . . from one who is a fault-finder, who constantly sees what’s wrong with everything and makes a point of laying her tongue vigorously upon it . . . from the critical woman who can spot and indicate a blemish, however small . . . from the gossip who knows only the mistakes and slips of her friends and makes them her constant subject of conversation.

A man wants to be proud of his wife. He had better notice whether he is proud of the girl with whom he goes out. There are a few tests: She should know how to meet people; she should be considerate of older people, notably those related to her; she should be easy and comfortable in a restaurant, whether it be superlatively good or fitted to his depleted wallet; she should know how to wear the clothes suited for the occasion; she should watch and learn from those who have more experience than she; if she makes mistakes, she smiles at them, apologizes briefly, puts them aside, and tries not to repeat them.

GRATITUDE

Is gratitude a matter of manners or of deep inner virtue?

You will be smart if you expect gratitude from the girl you marry. Here, as in most cases, you can judge her future gratitude to you by her gratitude to her parents here and now. The girl who accepts the money and clothes, the house and food, the schooling and fun made possible by her parents without appreciation or gratitude will later take what you give her as her right, her due, and nothing for which you should get a sign of thanks.

Listen carefully while she talks about Dad and Mother.

“Oh, Dad’s so tight. He hates to let anyone have the car . . . I had to wheedle and coax to get this new dress out of Mother. You’d think every dollar bill was skin off her nose . . . For Christmas? Oh, I got a lot of clothes and things like that; but then, a person’s parents are expected to provide those. I wish I really had rich parents.”

Listen to her as she discusses her friends.

“Hazel helped me with my book report. But then, Hazel is a bookworm; she’d rather study than go to a dance . . . I feel sorry for June; she does so well in her studies, but she simply has no charm, do you think? . . . I finally persuaded my little sister, that’s Nan, to let me take her new nylon scarf; I promised to let her have my gloves on Sunday; but I’ll keep them hid so she can’t find them; I don’t want that kid using my stuff.”

A LADY, PLEASE !

Any female is a woman. But only certain women are ladies. For your sake, I hope you have the good luck to marry one of them. For a lady has those marks of good breeding that you will want her to pass on to your children. A lady has gracious manners that make her charming in her own home, pleasant in company, a prize that you can happily bring to a party, the confident, restful companion on your arm.

A lady is careful not to hurt others; and if she inadvertently does, she is quick to apologize.

A lady is considerate of the very old, the very young, the tiresome, the sick, the weak, the underprivileged.

A lady dresses well without being in advance of the styles or holding onto a style when it has gone into history.

A lady is extreme in nothing, but notable because what she does is right.

A lady is the lovely partner of a lifetime. Pray God to send a lady your way.

TOLERANCE

You and I are males, and as males we are going to do our full share of barging into fragile objects, thoughtlessly kicking things around, saying the wrong things at the right time, making the mistakes for which we will be very sorry and of which we shall be ashamed.

Thank Heaven, we spent the early and most naturally clumsy years of our lives under a tolerant woman-our mother.

She picked us up and dusted us off and kissed us when we fell.

She gathered together our broken toys and wiped up our spilt milk and set upright the chairs we had thrown over.

She took us in understanding arms and kissed our bruises and bandaged our cuts and told us how sorry she was and how sure we wouldn’t do it again.

When we rashly jumped off the toolshed and landed on the cement and in bed, she said not a word of reproach; but nursed us back, knowing that our stupidity had taught us all the lessons we needed.

She didn’t much like that big kid over whom we waxed enthusiastic; but when he turned out to be a bully and a thief, she didn’t say, “I knew it all the time.” She accepted our bitterness towards him as she had first accepted our enthusiasm, wordlessly and with understanding.

MEN ARE GROWN-UP BOYS

Well, unflattering as it may seem to our male vanity, nothing truer is ever said by a woman than, “After all, a man is just a little boy grown up.” And by “grown up,” they usually mean physically-perhaps in some ways mentally; but not emotionally and not in any mastery of our mistakes.

So you had best look to your future wife for a deal of tolerance.

Is she tolerant of her own dad, his talkativeness, his not overwhelming success in business, his tendency to brag about his golf score or what he said to the boss, his constant remembrance of the past, his repetition of the same joke on all occasions? Or does a sneer curl her lips and pity narrow her eyes when she mentions him?

You will need a lot of tolerance from your wife as the years go on. She must be willing to be satisfied with moderate success. The girl (perhaps fortunately rare) who is contemptuous of anything but the most expensive restaurants, the best seats at the ballet, the top-flight clubs, clothes from the superlative shops, may find you-intolerable.

Her tendency to despise anything but real wit may make your modest humour seem hardly worth listening to.

And if she has a biting way of tearing down the reputation of those she knows, will your reputation and fame and achievements be of so high a standard that they are out of the reach of her sarcasm and scorn?

Gentleness and tolerance in a wife are almost essential for a husband’s happiness. The girl who lacks these is going to be tough on the man she marries. He has my pity well in advance of the scorn which will blister his skin and the disapproval that will embitter and probably stunt his efforts.

AH, SWEET CONTENT!

The perfect wife is a strange blend of contentment and ambition. You can study that rather easily in the girl with whom you are going. Here and now she will tell you, and mean it, how much better you can do than you are doing; yet she will be pleased with what you actually accomplish and achieve.

“I’m so glad that you are going out for football. I’ll be in the stands cheering you when you snare the forward pass.” And, if the coach doesn’t object, she is around when you practise, giving you the inspiration and courage you need. But you never get off the bench for the first few games. “I know you’re chafing to get into the game; be patient; it’s an old, seasoned team, and before the end of the season you’ll be in there, and next year . . . that’s going to be your year.”

Ambition for you, yet content with what you achieve.

“Are you going to enter the short story contest? I liked that last story you published in the school magazine. Remember that plot you sketched out for me? Why don’t you write that?” You do, but when the awards are given, you get an honourable mention, and none of the cash prizes. “But remember, you are only a Junior. The winners were mostly Seniors.” Mercifully she does not mention that Sophomore who got the second prize. “Write that plot over again and next year I’m betting on you.”

Her discontent expresses itself in her ambitions for you and for herself. Her content rests upon an acceptance of whatever comes out of honest effort.

DISCONTENT?

Into your litany put “From discontented wife, O Lord, deliver me!” From the woman who is always comparing unfavourably what she has with what someone else has. From the woman who is angry at the success of others. From the woman who never seems to have enough. If you give her a pound box of chocolates, her look indicates she expected three pounds in a fancy container. If Dad gives her a dyed fur, she admits pettishly that he really could afford broadtail. She does not look at what she gets but at what she has not got. She doesn’t have fun in the blessings and gifts that come her way, but is sour and resentful at the blessings and gifts that go to others.

You need not be long with a girl to measure her contentment of mind.

Her attitude towards you will soon show whether her desire for your success is pride in you and ambition for your full development, or greed and envy and an appetite for things and more things and still more things that no millionaire could ever satisfy.

You’ll catch that in the way she orders her smaller brothers and sisters around and acts towards people who wait on her.

It is tough to be tied to a bossy woman.

It is a slavery to be married to a demanding woman.

Does she now expect you to spend more than you can afford and to buy her luxuries that are clearly beyond your allowance or income?

HOME-LOVING

In the normal course of life your wife will spend most of her energies running your home for you. Perhaps right here and now a boy doesn’t realize how important his home is to him. He entered his present home in infancy without much responsibility for its happiness. For years the home exists for him, and he accepts its comfort and its safety, its meals and its peace as his simple due. It will be a long time before he knows how much of his character developed out of the home atmosphere that his mother and father had created for him. He will-only with deep maturity-come to see the relationship between good meals and good health, quiet and calm and sound nerves, pleasant laughter and family gaiety, and his attitude towards recreation and sports and fun.

Well, once you marry a girl, you have taken the partner upon whom will depend the happiness and wholesomeness of the home you are to occupy for many a long year.

Will she be home-loving and a good house-keeper?

“How in the world shall I be able to tell that?” you demand.

Easy, lad; just take a look at the girl in her own home.

How does she feel about her present home? Does she love it and is she proud of it? Does she take you there with an air of happily showing it off? Does she introduce you to her parents with real pride and satisfaction?

You can carefully keep your eyes open and make a few more important discoveries.

What does her mother look like? Well, allowing for the better food eaten by modern girls and the fact of current diet and exercises, your wife will someday probably look very much as her mother looks today. How does that strike you?

Can your young lady cook? “Can she bake a cherry pie, Billy Boy?” the old folk tune used to ask. Or is she the kind of girl whose mother carefully bakes the chocolate cake prepared for your coming and, just before your arrival, coaches her daughter with “Remember, when you tell him it is your cake, say, “This is a cake I baked for you,” and not, “This is a cake I cooked for you””?

Is she proud of her home in such a way that she willingly plays a part in its upkeep? You may well shy away from the girl who “just hates to wash the dishes; they ruin my hands.” Your dirty dishes will ruin them just as fast as her father’s. “Mother never lets me do anything around the house; she just spoils us, but I love to be spoiled.” “Next week Mother is house-cleaning; I’m going to spend the week with my girl friend; house-cleaning drives me crazy.” Danger signs, my lad! Great big flashing danger signs! Note them and take the nearest detour.

Your home is, you hope, going to be a place of safety and happiness, of meals well prepared and floors spotlessly clean, for you and your children. You can foresee it as a refuge at the end of the day, a retreat from life’s battle, an oasis in the tough journey over the commercial sands. Go on and add your own figures of speech.

Well, you alone can never make a home any of those things. Only a woman can turn a house into a home. Only a wife and mother can make an apartment or fiat a thing of beauty and calm and security and peace.

Do you think your girl is capable of that? Better be sure . . . oh, very, very sure!

CHILDREN

All this, I said, is to be for yourself and your children. Time was when philosophers maintained that the instinct of motherhood was one of nature’s deepest; nothing could root it, out. I’m not so sure. One meets some pretty selfish women these days. They dislike babies because, they state incorrectly, babies ruin their figures. They are too nervous for the noise and squalls of infancy. They don’t want their homes cluttered up with disorderly children. They are individuals with a right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness; and children have a way of demanding a share of their life-cutting down their liberty-and restricting the forms their happiness may take.

Unhappy the good man who marries a girl who resents children.

How can you know? It’s not too hard:

Find out how the young lady feels and acts towards her little brothers and sisters. If she regards them as brats, nuisances, inconveniences, bothers-she won’t change too notably when the children are yours.

Watch her with chance children who come your way. Listen to the words she uses to describe the dirty-faced kid whose clumsy and sticky hands imperil her spring outfit. Watch for distaste when she sees a mother with three or four small steps trailing along behind. Listen for her tone of pity when she says, “Susan has had her third baby in three years; the poor thing!”

Love of children is a deep, maternal, beautifully feminine instinct. But it has been left for our highly competent and often savagely selfish modern women to tear it from their hearts. You are lucky if your future wife loves children. You may find her regarding you as a brute and a taskmaster if you expect her to bear and love and bring up children, when she regards motherhood as a curse, and children as an interference with her peace and personal life.

WHAT ABOUT GOOD LOOKS?

“What kind of book is this anyhow? Here he’s been going on for pages and not one word about how the girl looks! I want to marry a beauty myself. Life for a husband must be pretty dull if his wife isn’t pretty. I’d hate to spend my life looking at some of the girls whose only recommendation is a pleasant disposition.”

One thing that has always puzzled me is the faces of some men I’ve known who demanded beautiful wives. How come that homely men think they are entitled to pretty wives? You’ll hear some most unattractive male demanding for himself an extremely attractive female. There ought to be some balance in looks, I’d say. When the onlookers say, “What a handsome couple!” I find myself thinking it quite right that beauty should draw beauty; when I hear a man demanding beauty in his partner, I always look twice to see if his partner will find good looks in him.

However, if our newspaper records are accurate, marriage to a raving beauty seems to lead to some raving divorce proceedings. Beauty is natural in some women, painfully acquired in others, and in still others retained only through a lifetime’s service. I can think of no husband as likely to be neglected as the husband of a professional beauty. She owes too much of her time to the care and cultivation of her good looks. And when she is out, she is constantly walking in the presence of an audience to which she carefully plays. Beauty, like all natural gifts, demands a lot of time. If a woman hasn’t the inner spirit to keep her beautiful, then she has to put in tireless thought and continued effort to keep the fragile flower of physical beauty from withering.

WHAT DO YOU MEAN, BEAUTY?

It is important, however, before answering the demands of the young man bent on finding a beautiful wife to ask just what he or anyone else means by beauty.

Regular features?

A perfect complexion?

A figure meeting the latest standards from the Power’s Agency?

I doubt if those are the types of a beauty with which it would be pleasant to live. For regular features, like anything else regular, soon seem less regular than routine. Right now Hollywood is far less interested in regular features than in the expression that lies back of them. There are a thousand girls with regular features waiting counter in cafeterias and pounding typewriters in Los Angeles; the girl who registers in the present tests for good looks has lack of those features- regular or irregular, according to the classic tradition or in the current eclectic vogue-aliveness, interest, character, charm, an inner glow that comes out in her eyes and her general expression.

The day of beauty, classic and orderly, comes and goes.

In the end, beauty is what pleases the beholder; and it is amazing how attractive people defy the rules of art and are beautiful despite a slight twist to a nose, freckles, eyes that are just a little off alignment, a mouth with a fascinating quirk, and a chin that would look odd indeed on Venus of Milo.

Beauty is worth having only if it attracts. Beauty is worth possessing only if, after the passing of time, it remains. And that is why surface beauty is a poor thing to look for and a worse thing to marry in a girl.

Good health, that wholesome look, the “well-scrubbed look” praised by the current novelists, the face and eyes and figure that mean a lifetime of decent food and enough fresh air and clean living-these are what matter on the physical side.

But looks will fade. Sickness, child-bearing, the passing of the years singularly alter the physical aspects of a woman. Then the inner girl begins to show more and more, to dominate the looks and bring the character to the surface. Her face is charming because she is constantly cheerful. Her features remain surprisingly unlined because she smiles easily, her mouth curves upward, and she doesn’t let worry or annoyance dig furrows into her forehead. She moves rapidly and easily because she has an inner spark that keeps her alive. She has something better than regular features; she has regular habits; and the regular possession of virtue and of sanctifying grace.

It is amazing how, with time, the soul comes to dominate the body. Selfish people get the hard, selfish look. Generous people grow more physically attractive each day. People with the peace of God’s friendship develop expressions that instantly attract and constantly charm. A mouth that speaks kindly becomes a beautiful mouth. Hands that serve generously become characterful hands. Eyes that look out for affection on mankind are eyes that radiate an inner beauty not difficult to find.

A young man is wise to ask of his future wife a wholesomeness and moderate health.

Her smile soon comes to compensate for regular features.

And if she has a lovely character, she will year after year, indeed day by day, grow into a comfortable, attractive, gracious, beloved adornment of his house. Her virtue is the only kind of beauty that does not decay; and the virtue of her soul will take over and mould to full charm the beauty of her whole person.

HER PERSONAL GOODNESS

All this means that a young man should expect his future wife, the guardian and in a way the maker of his home, the mother of his children, personal goodness.

Modern young men have freely expressed a theory which I find horrible. They feel they have a right to “test a girl.” That is the famous “pass” about which so many ugly jokes are made.

“A fellow has a right to find out how far a girl will go. If she is willing to let him get away with something, that’s her lookout. If she isn’t, then let her take a stand and a decent chap will respect her attitude. You’ve got to experiment to find out whether a girl is good or not.”

Horrible as it is that the self-confessed “stronger sex” should make what they call “the weaker sex” decide how good they both will be, girls might as well know that many a modern young man actually puts them to the test. His attitude is contemptible but common. He does not make love to them because he loves them; he makes love to them to find out whether they are worthy of his possible love. And, in strange and savage contradiction, if the girls accept his insistent love, he decides they are not fit for married and maternal love.

Just as many a pagan-minded girl today thinks she has to indicate to the young man who takes her out that she is a “good sport,” so many an equally pagan-minded young man makes the test: Is she going to be a “good sport,” or is she someone whom I might consider for a partner in marriage, my wife, the mother of my children ?

There is no real need for such contemptible experiments.

Goodness has a way of manifesting itself in a thousand instinctive signs. It is shown in speech and in reaction to speech. The girl of personal goodness is clean of tongue and quite clearly is not happy when the speech of others around her grows soiled. Personal goodness shows itself in the kind of amusements a girl enjoys, and in her attitude to a film in which suddenly something off-colour appears, or to a nightclub performer who turns blue. It appears in the way children take to her attitude towards boys and men; a boy may frankly wonder a bit when a girl is a little aggressive, inclined to be too free with her gestures of affection, hangs on him, sits too close, has a way of finding the arm of the chair he occupies and sitting there rather than in a chair of her own. None of these things are too morally wrong in themselves; they are the signs of her habitual attitude.

A good girl is a pleasant companion. She likes to dance, but she dances with blended verve and modesty. She enjoys happy conversation but not off-colour conversation. Her laughter is tell-tale; for it should be wholesome and natural and not strained or too loud or rising a little hysterically when things are doubtfully decent. She is a girl who loves her home and is content with a quiet evening. She does not expect the boy at the movies to put his arm around her shoulder, and she goes well forward in the theatre and does not herself stay back among the young couples whose interest in the film is largely secondary. When she rides with a young man in his car, she does not imperil his driving by plastering herself against him; and if he suggests parking, she understands and differentiates between parking to admire the beautiful vista and parking as instant prelude to undeclared courtship and love-making.

No boy has to “test a girl” as the moderns would do. The thousand simple, easy, quickly rising signs tell the story of goodness or its lack. What does she read? What magazines does she eagerly page through? Who are her friends and what kind of boys and girls has she been going with?

PASSED ALONG

It is vital to remember that the goodness of the children is, next to the grace of God, going to come from the goodness of the mother. A girl of easy virtue may be “fun”; she is nobody to trust with a family. She may be a good sport, but will she be a good mother? After marriage she may reform, but it is wasteful effort for a girl to marry a drunkard to reform him; and it is prelude to heartache when a man marries a girl of easy virtue in the determination to turn her into a virtuous wife and mother.

Your future wife should have the health from which will come strong, vigorous young bodies. But she should have the spiritual health from which will arise strong, vigorous, virtuous souls.

HER MIND

While we are on the subject of what a woman passes along to her children, we may take at least a swift glance at the girl’s mind.

Certainly, unless you yourself are a young Einstein, you need not demand that your future wife be a Phi Beta Kappa. A book-worm or the ridiculed college grind is not necessarily a person with the kind of mind you’d enjoy living with for years.

Yet this is the day of universal education. Despite the value of modern schools, children will always find their mothers their best, as they surely are their first, teachers.

You will be happy if you marry a girl with an alert and inquiring mind. The physical aspects of marriage are extremely limited even in actual time. The rest of the day you live with a woman’s disposition and mind and soul. What she did in school and how much formal education she received is far less important than the quality of her thinking and the kind of mental attitudes she has developed.

Were her parents people who liked books, took her to good films and plays, had good music on the radio or their disks, and believed in pleasant conversation among themselves and with intelligent friends? Or, if they were not, has she herself developed such attitudes?

Did she detest books and class and almost deliberately do badly in her studies, so that now, self-defensively, she brags about what rotten marks she made?

When you are together, what does she talk about and what does she like you to talk about? Is she bored if the conversation rises above the latest Voice with the name-bands or the last piece of gossip about her girl friends? Does she know at least something of what is going on in the world, and when you talk of your ambitions and dreams, your work in life, what you hope to make of yourself and your job, is she alert enough to follow?

We can’t stress this too demandingly; yet you will have to depend during a long married life upon the interests and mind and alertness of this girl. And your children’s minds will take their first character and formation from hers.

TASTES

The use of cosmetics and the style of her dress really are important chiefly in this: they illustrate her natural taste. A girl with taste doesn’t paint like a freshly designed circus poster. Her clothes are attractive and not extreme. They are neither too short nor too long, too full nor too scant, not the styles of five years ago or of the Space Cadet era. When she eats, she is curious about new food but content with the plain dishes of the restaurant you can afford. She is curious about the receptive to new music and new books and art; but doesn’t go overboard for the latest craze that may die before its names get into the loose-leaf dictionaries. She shows honest enthusiasm but doesn’t gush or rave. She is sweet to people but doesn’t, in the Irish phrase, palaver them.

All these are the signs of good taste; and after all, upon the taste of your wife will depend the tasteful or chaotic home in which you are going to spend a good deal of important time.

MOST IMPORTANT OF ALL

There are charming, well-mannered, attractive, beautiful, tasteful, well-dispositioned girls in every faith. All religions have their good and virtuous members, depending, of course, on what these religions believe and practise, and what they demand in virtue of their members.

But you are a great fool indeed if you allow yourself to fall in love with someone not of your faith.

If your religion means anything at all to you, it is Christ’s own revealed truth, Christ’s way of life, Christ’s road to salvation, Christ’s explanation of how to please His Father, Christ’s programme for saving the world. Christ’s way is the only way to salvation.

It is not a matter of being a Republican or a Democrat, an Elk, a Rotarian or a Knight of Columbus. It is not a question of preferring the Dodgers to the Cardinals, golf to tennis, hamburgers to hot dogs. It is part of God’s plan for you to make a success of your life.

So you fall in love with a girl who does not share your faith. A lot of things inevitably follow

1. You hold deep down inside you a great many truths that she thinks are false, nonsensical, or certainly not in the least important. A great sector of your life is totally alien to her.

2. As your wife, she has promised to raise the children in your faith. What are you asking of the poor girl? What demands are you making upon her tact, patience and ingenuity?

She must teach them truths she does not regard as truths.

She must start them off in religious practices that she herself does not practise.

She must create a religious atmosphere for the house when she does not accept that religion.

She must be so clever that she inspires the children to reverence and follow a religious way of life which she herself neither under-stands, accepts, nor externally practises.

You are asking a girl who may not believe in miracles to work them. You are going to ask your children to accept a faith that their darling mother does not accept. You are facing a life of religious loneliness; for you can never talk about your faith to the girl who does not understand what you are saying, and you must go off alone to Mass, to confession and Communion, to the parish mission or retreat. And you must insist on a Catholic education for the children, following their Catholic Baptism, Communion and Confirmation, which means less money in the family budget, and sacrifices she must make just because you demand them of her.

Does it sound like prelude to a happy marriage, this fact that the girl doesn’t accept your faith?

The plain fact is that nothing so disqualifies a girl for marriage to you as the lack of your religious faith or the acceptance of a religion that regards your religion as false, misleading, and perhaps even of the devil.

Marry the girl of your own faith. Don’t ask a girl without your faith to accept you when accepting you means a lifetime separation from the soul and mind and practices of the man she has married.

ASK A LOT, GIVE A LOT

Perhaps by this time you have reached the conclusion that I am telling you to ask a lot of the girl you marry. I am. But

I am also telling the girls to ask a lot from you.

The simple but vital principle for selection is this: You ought to demand a lot of the girl you marry, for the girl who marries you ought to be getting just as good as she gives.

Ask a great deal of the girl; but bring the girl a great deal yourself.

It’s a shabby marriage when either party short-changes the other in disposition, virtue, devotion and faith. It’s a blessed marriage when virtue weds with virtue, health finds health, a good disposition unites with a good disposition, and a faith is consecrated at the altar to a similar faith.

Marriage is too important to be fooled with. If shabby, third-rate people must marry shabby, third-rate people, the world will continue to know its makeshift, unhappy, fore-doomed marriages. You wouldn’t have read this booklet if you did not want the right girl for the ideal and blessed marriage. Look until God leads you to her. And let her, when you make your offer, know that you are bringing her a man of integrity, pleasant habits and disposition, virtue, and a deep and shining faith.

Then God bless you both.

Nihil Obstat:

Bernard O”Connor, Diocesan Censor.

Imprimatur:

@ Arthur F. Fox,

Aux. Bishop, Melbourne.

********

The Glories of Saint Joseph

BY EDWARD HEALY THOMPSON, M.A

INDEX

INTRODUCTION

It is no uncommon idea, even among Catholics, that the devotion paid to St. Joseph and the loft estimate of his prerogatives now prevailing in the Church are innovations of modern times and that they have no precedent in antiquity. But this is far from the case. In the writings of the Church Fathers are to be found prolific germs and even explicit statements of doctrine, which sufficiently show how deep in the consciousness of the Church lay the belief of St. Joseph’s exalted dignity and sanctity, and how definite a shape it had taken in the early ages.

If to some it may be a matter of surprise that so much attention is paid to one whom is scarcely mention in Scripture, and if it is also a wonder to them that the Holy See has assigned him the glorious title of Patron and Guardian of the Universal Church, this can only be that they have paid scant attention to St. Joseph’s role in the economy of redemption.

TO DESCRIBE the life and glories of St. Joseph is to describe at the same time the life of Jesus and the glories of Mary; for Jesus, Mary, and Joseph are so intimately united, that it is impossible to speak of one without treating of the others. These three dear names-Jesus, Mary, Joseph-form that triple Heavenly alliance which can never be broken.

In order to understand the greatness of St. Joseph, we must look very far back, for his greatness did not begin with his birth, for it began with his predestination, Predestination, according to St. Thomas Aquinas, is the Divine preordination, from eternity, of those things which, by Divine grace, are to be accomplished in time. Now, the most compassionate Lord God had, in the admirable dispositions of His Providence, from all eternity, preordained the ineffable mystery of the Divine Incarnation to repair the fall of Adam and save his descendants from eternal ruin. This mystery hidden in ages was to be revealed in the fullness of time. The Eternal Word was to assume human flesh and to offer Himself as a voluntary victim to expiate the sins of all mankind. This mystery, then, was to be accomplished in Jesus; it was predestined that Jesus, who according to the flesh was the Son of David, was in truth the Son of God, that it was preordained that one day that human nature was to subsist along with the Divine Nature, in order that the sacrifice of Jesus might have an infinite value to satisfy worthily the Divine Justice. And this is what is called the eternal decree of the Divine Incarnation.

Now, in this decree is comprehended, not only the mystery itself of the Divine Incarnation, but also the mode and order in which the mystery was to be accomplished, and consequently, those persons who were principally and more immediately to have a part in it, for according the doctrine of the Angelic Doctor, the eternal predestination includes not only what is to be accomplished in time, but likewise the mode and order according to which it is to be accomplished: that the Most Sacred Humanity of Jesus Christ was to be taken, but without sin, from that same human nature which had sinned in Adam: that It was to descend from the blood of Abraham, to be of the tribe of Juda and the race of David, and that the Body of Jesus was to be formed by the power of the Holy Ghost in the pure womb of the Immaculate Virgin, Mary; and therefore Mary, after Jesus, was immediately comprised in the decree of the Divine Incarnation, and from eternity predestined to be the most august Mother of the Son of God.

But in order to conceal this mystery of love from the world until the appointed time had come, and to safeguard at the same time the reputation of the Virgin Mother and the honor of the Divine Son, God willed that Mary, by a marriage altogether Heavenly should be espoused to the humblest, the purest, and the holiest of the royal race of David, one therefore expressly predestined for this end; a virgin spouse for the Virgin Mother, who at the same time should be in the place of a father to the Divine Son. In the Divine mind Joseph was the one chosen from amongst all others. Joseph held the first place. Joseph was, after Mary, comprehended in the very decree of the Incarnation

PART ONE

ST. JOSEPH INCLUDED IN THE ORDER OF THE HYPOSTATIC UNION

WHATEVER God disposes is disposed in a marvelous and perfect order. Wherefore the Church which Jesus came to found on earth imitates the Heavenly Sion. As in Heaven there are angelic hierarchies, and in these ranks there are diverse orders, so also on earth there is a hierarchy of grace, and in that hierarchy are included various orders or ministries, which, according to the Angelic Doctor, St. Thomas, excel each other in proportion to their approximation to God. The highest of all these orders, whether angelic or human, is the order of the Hypostatic Union, in which is Christ Jesus, God and Man. By the Hypostatic Union is meant that the Eternal Son of God, in His Incarnation, assumed human nature, and united it to Himself in Personal unity; in other words, that in the one Divine Person of Jesus Christ, the two Natures, the Divine Nature and the Human Nature, ever distinct in themselves, became inseparably and eternally united.

If a wonderful order is displayed in all the works of nature, an order supremely perfect is displayed in all the works of grace, especially in the great work of the Incarnation. Among these orders of grace some precede the mystery of the Incarnation, others follow it. Among those which precede it the most remote is the order of the Patriarchs, chosen to prepare the progenitors of Jesus down to St. Joachim and St. Anne. To some of these, as to Abraham and to David, it was expressly revealed that of their blood and of their family, the Savior of men should be born into the world. The next is the Levitical and sacerdotal order, preordained by God to figure in all its rites the Priesthood of Jesus, His Church., His Sacraments, the Bloody sacrifice of the Cross, and the Unbloody Sacrifice of the Altar. The third is that of the Prophets, destined to foretell and announce to the world, so many centuries before the coming of Jesus, His Birth of a Virgin, His country, the place of His Nativity, His flight into Egypt, His Apostles, his preaching, miracles, His Passion and Death, his Resurrection and glorious Ascension into Heaven. Greater than all these Prophets was john the Baptist, because destined and preordained to be the immediate Precursor of Christ, and to point to Him as being actually present on the earth . . . These are the orders which under the Old Law preceded Jesus.

Others succeeded Him, and these are the various orders or ministries of Holy Church, which form the ecclesiastical hierarchy, beginning with the Apostles, who were to render to the whole earth and to all ages their solemn testimony to the Divinity of Jesus Christ; they were to announce all His Doctrine, His Law, His Sacraments; they were to found and spread His Church throughout the world, so that all might attain salvation. And, as the Apostolic order was nearer than any other to Jesus, even so, says St. Thomas Aquinas, did the Apostles receive greater grace than any other saint in the other orders of the Church.

Now, above all these orders rises supreme the order of the Hypostatic Union. All the other orders, including the angelic, are subordinate and subject to it; for this reason, that Jesus is the beginning, the author, and the head of this order, and on Jesus, as Sovereign Prince, depends every hierarchy, every sacred princedom in Heaven and on earth, since Jesus is the end of the whole law [Rom. 10:4] . . . jesus is the sole and true source of salvation to all men. By faith in Him Who was to come all were saved who lived justly from Adam until His day; and all those who have lived and shall live justly since His coming have been and shall be saved by Him alone . . . all the various orders of grace circle, from Him alone receiving light, virtue and power to fulfill faithfully the holy offices to which they are ordained; and so much the greater or less grace and dignity do they receive as they are more or less approximated in their ministry to Jesus, the author of grace, just as one who is nearer to the fire participates more largely in its heat. It is clear, then, that the order of the Hypostatic Union transcends and surpasses the other subaltern orders, even as the sun transcends the inferior stars.

Now, Joseph by Divine predestination was placed in this sovereign order. Three only composed it -Jesus, Mary, Joseph. Jesus is true God and true Man; Mary is true Mother of God and Mother of men; Joseph is true spouse of Mary and putative father of Jesus. Jesus is the principal subject of the Incarnation, and the author of the Redemption of the world; Mary is the immediate co-operatrix and, so to say, the executrix of the Incarnation itself; Joseph, the faithful depository of these two most precious pledges, was to provide that this sublime mystery of the Incarnation and Redemption should be brought about with the greatest possible congruity, so that the honor of the Mother and of the God-Man, her Son, should remain intact.

That Joseph should be comprised in this supreme order is not a mere devout opinion or the fruit of pious meditation, it is a sure decision of the soundest theology. Suarez, that eminent theologian, after having spoken of the Order of the Apostles, upon which he said the greatest grace was conferred, goes on to say:”There are other ministries appertaining to the order of the Hypostatic Union, which in its kind is more perfect, as we affirmed of the dignity of the Mother of God, and in this order is constituted the ministry of St. Joseph; and, although it be in the lowest grade of it, nevertheless, in this respect, it surpasses all others, because it exists in a superior order!” [1] Thus spoke Suarez, the learned theologian of Granada, about three hundred years ago, when the opinion of the faithful respecting St. Joseph and the devotion due to him had not been so openly and generally displayed.

But the doctors who followed spoke still more clearly. Giovanni di Cartagena, contemporary of Bellarmine and Baronius, and very dear to Pope Pius V for his piety and science, out of the numerous learned homilies which he wrote, devoted thirteen to the praises of Joseph. After having spoken of the Apostolic order, he passes on to treat of the order of the Hypostatic Union, and says that in its kind it is more perfect than the other, and that in this order the first place is held by the Humanity of Christ, which is immediately united to the Person of the Word; the second place is held by the Blessed Virgin, who conceived and brought forth the Incarnate Word; the third place is held by St. Joseph, to whom was committed by God the special care, never given to any other, of feeding, nursing, educating, and protecting a God-made-man! [2] After Cartagena comes P. Giuseppe Antonio Patrignani, highly praised also by Benedict XIV, who, almost two centuries ago, wrote thus of St. Joseph: “He, as constituted head of the Family immediately belonging to the service of a God-Man, transcends in dignity all the other Saints; wherefore he is happily established in an order which is superior to all the other orders in the Church.” [3]

We might adduce other doctors of high authority, but we will proceed to consider some of the legitimate consequences which flow from this doctrine.

1. It is an exceeding honor to Joseph “to be comprised in the same order wherein are Jesus Himself, the Son of God, the King of kings, and Mary, Mother of God and Queen of the universe, to be united with them in the closest relations, and enjoy their most entire confidence. The nobles of the earth deem themselves to be highly honored in being brought into near association with monarchs of renown, holding the foremost places in their courts, and being the most trusted in their councils. What, then, shall we say of Joseph, who, placed in the order of the Hypostatic Union, was destined by God, not only first in His court and the closest in His confidence, but even to be the reputed father of the King of kings; to be, not only the confidential friend, but the very spouse of the most exalted of all the empresses in the universe? Next to the Divine Maternity, no honor in the world is comparable with this.

2. To be comprised in the order of the Hypostatic Union implies being, after Jesus and Mary, superior to all the other Saints, both of the Old and the New Testament; and the reason is clear: for, this order being superior to all the other orders in the Church, it follows that whosoever has a place in this order, albeit in its lowest grade, as Joseph has, ranks before all who are even in the highest grade of a lower order, such as that of the Apostles, which is the most eminent among them.

3. It follows that Joseph is superior, not in nature, but in dignity, to the Angels themselves, since the orders of Angels are subject to the order of the Hypostatic Union, subject to Jesus, their King and their Head, subject to Mary, their Queen; hence, as the Apostle declares, when the Eternal Father sent His Divine Son upon earth He commanded all the Angels to adore Him. [4] And on account of Jesus the Angels became subject also to Mary and to Joseph: thus we find them hastening gladly to serve them, to warn them, to console them; and were they not sent expressly from Heaven to act as attendants on Joseph, at one time to assure him that his Spouse has conceived the Son of God Himself; at another to make known to him the plot of Herod, so that he might place the Virgin and her Divine Son in safety by flying into Egypt; and, again, to announce to him that now he may joyfully return into the land of Israel? [5]

4. We conclude that Joseph was comprehended in this order because he was truly the head and guardian of this Divine Family. To rule and govern this august family belonged of right to Jesus, who was God. Mary and Joseph, exalted as they were in dignity, were, nevertheless, only creatures; but Jesus willed to give an example of the most perfect humility. It was His will to magnify our Saint, and to concede to him this high glory, making him the head and guardian of His family; so that Joseph had rule and authority over the Son of God Himself and over the very Mother of the Son of God. And Joseph, being thus destined to be the head and guardian of Jesus, the head and guardian of Mary, became at the same time the patron and guardian of the Church, which is the spouse of Jesus and, in a manner, the daughter of Mary. Whence [St.] Pius IX, of blessed memory, in proclaiming Joseph Patron of the Church, did not so much confer a new title of honor upon him as affirm and declare this his most ancient prerogative, which had not before been so expressly promulgated by Holy Church.

5. It follows that Joseph was comprised in that order and in that family the highest representation which it is possible to conceive, inasmuch as he was made the very representative of the Divine Father, Who alone has the right to call Jesus His Son, having begotten Him from all eternity; and yet that same God, Who by the mouth of Isaias [6] protested that He would never give His glory to another, that God Who, in communicating to the Word and to the Holy Spirit His Divine essence, does not in any wise communicate to them His Divine paternity, was so generous to Joseph as to concede to him His glory, and communicate to him His name and His paternity; not actually, for that was impossible, but so that he should be in His place and stead, and should be called the father of Him who was the Divine Word, and that the Word Himself should call Joseph by the sweet name of father, so that he might with true joy appropriate to himself that passage in Holy Scripture:

“I will be to Him a father and He shall be to me a son!” [7] Herein we see manifested the great love of the Three Persons of the Blessed Trinity for our Saint and the confidence They reposed in him; for the Eternal Father committed wholly into his charge His well-beloved Son; the Divine Son delivered Himself entirely to his care and to his will; the Holy Spirit consigned and committed to him His most immaculate Spouse; so that this Holy Family, of which Joseph became the head, was another Triad on earth, a resplendent image of the Most Holy Triad in Heaven, the Ever-Blessed Trinity: Joseph representing the Eternal Father, Jesus representing and being in very truth the Eternal Word, and Mary representing the Eternal Love, the Holy Spirit. This thought is borrowed from the Doctor of the Church, St. Francis de Sales. “We may say”-these are his words-”that the Holy Family was a Trinity on Earth, which in a certain way represented the Heavenly Trinity Itself.” [8]

6. Finally, it follows that Joseph, in that he was comprised in that sublime order, superior to that of all the other Saints, must as a natural consequence have been predestined to receive greater gifts and graces than all the other Saints, that he might be made worthy to be so near to Jesus and Mary, and fitted to discharge most faithfully those high ministries to which he was elected. Hence the pious Bernardine de Bustis makes this bold assertion: “Since Joseph was to be the guardian, companion, and ruler of the Most Blessed Virgin and of the Child Jesus, is it possible to conceive that God could have made a mistake in the choice of him? or that He could have permitted him to be deficient in any respect? or could have failed to make him most perfect?” The very idea would be the grossest of errors. When God selects anyone to perform some great work He bestows upon him every virtue needful for its accomplishment.” [9]

Let us rejoice, then, with our most loving Patriarch that he has been exalted to so sublime an order, and has obtained such grace, power, and dignity as none other, after Jesus and Mary, has ever received, to the glory of God, Who made him so great, and for our profit and that of the whole Church.

PART TWO: THE GLORY OF JOSEPH IN HEAVEN

GOD proportions His graces to the office with which He entrusts a man, and his glory in Heaven will be proportioned to the fidelity with which he has discharged it. If this be true, and it is undoubtedly true, what must be the glory of Joseph! To whom was ever committed an office which for its sublimity could be compared to that for which our Saint was chosen? and who can question his faithful correspondence with the high graces which he must have received in order to its due discharge? Well, therefore, may we address him, as do the United Greeks in one of their hymns, by the singular epithet of “more than a Saint,” or, rather, as “ pre-eminently a Saint,” by the super excellence of the graces he received from Heaven and his perfect correspondence with those graces. So far, then, from its being rash to hold that Joseph surpasses all the Saints in glory, even as he exceeded them in grace, the learned Suarez is of opinion that it is a belief both full of piety and in itself most highly probable. Many other eminent ecclesiastical authorities might be quoted in support of the same view, but the name of Suarez may suffice to warrant our conviction of what recommends itself even to our natural reason. Moreover, if it be once conceded that Joseph, being specially associated with the mystery of the Incarnation, was constituted in a higher order than any other, however exalted, in the hierarchy of the Church, namely, that of, the Hypostatic Union, it follows that no comparison can be attempted him and other Saints, because he possessed a different and more eminent kind of sanctity.

And this is no new opinion in the Church. We need not wonder, then, if the Blessed Veronica of Milan [10] when rapt in ecstasy and raised in spirit to behold the glories of the empyrean, distinguished the incomparable Joseph exalted above all the blessed; nor if a celebrated doctor of these later centuries [11] should have written that Jesus Christ denied the first seats in His kingdom to the ambitious pretensions of His disciples, James and John, [12] because these places were reserved for Mary and Joseph; and was it not meet, indeed, that the Son of God should keep those nearest to Him in Heaven who had been nearest to Him on earth? We cannot well conceive that it could be otherwise. “Was there ever any pure creature,” says St. Francis de Sales, “so beloved of God or who better deserved that love than our Lady or St. Joseph?” [13] All the Fathers of the Church are agreed that the Joseph of Genesis was a type of the most pure spouse of Mary, and that his brilliant exaltation over his brethren was a shadow of the glory of the second Joseph, and a kind of prophecy of what was to occur in his case. Is not this implicitly to concur in the doctrine of Suarez and of those other eminent authorities who expressly affirm the elevation of Joseph above all the Saints in Paradise? Finally, the Church herself in her offices appears to favor and accredit this truth, by calling Joseph the honor and glory of the Blessed; [14] words which imply his superiority.

But this superlative glory of Joseph’s soul, although constituting his substantial and essential beatitude, is by no means all that appertains to that beatitude. Man being composed of a united soul and body, the happiness and glory of Heaven are promised to the body as well as to the soul, and form no inconsiderable portion of it. Now, we have every reason to be persuaded that Joseph truly rose from the grave, and, if so, that his body also shines with a luster and enjoys a bliss surpassing that which the bodies of other Saints shall ever enjoy. It is of faith that many bodies of the Saints arose with the Incarnate Word, and that they appeared to numbers of persons in Jerusalem, [15] giving them undoubted proofs that they were truly risen. Moreover, it is the opinion of St. Thomas and of well-nigh all the Doctors that these Saints were not subject to death any more, but, after having for some time communicated on earth with the disciples of the Son of God, they, when the forty days were expired, followed Him in His Ascension to render His entrance into Heaven still more brilliant and glorious. It seems scarcely necessary to allude to the idea entertained by some as possible, that these Saints returned into their tombs after rendering their testimony. With all respect to those who have favored this notion, among whom are some honored names, not only is it to our mind in every way repulsive, but it seems to destroy the value of the testimony itself, seeing that their bodies were to return to dust. Dismissing, then, a conjecture unworthy, as it appears to us, of the goodness of God and of the great work which Jesus had achieved when He rose triumphant from the grave and, ascending into Heaven, led captivity captive, [16] and displayed the trophies of His victory in these first children of the Resurrection, let us ask ourselves who of all the ancient Saints were likely to form a portion of this chosen band. St. Matthew, wholly occupied in relating what immediately regards our Lord Himself and in establishing our faith in the principal mysteries which concern Him, has neither specified the number of those who were called to share the Redeemer’s triumph over death, nor given the nameof anyone among them; he simply says that they were “many.” We, therefore, naturally conclude that certain great patriarchs and prophets of the Old Law must have been thus chosen. But which of these patriarchs or prophets, however magnificent the promises made to them or declared by them, however high in the favor of God they may have stood, could be compared for greatness and dignity with Joseph, to whom it was given to be a father to Him Who is the God of all the patriarchs and prophets, and to feed, support, and protect Him Who created and sustains all things? Could these ancient Saints be selected for the glory of the Resurrection and Joseph left in the tomb? But, more than all, how can we believe that this loving Savior, Who gives life to whom He will, [17] and therefore had the power to choose whom He would to share His glory in body as well as soul, can have called from their graves this multitude of His servants and friends and omitted His dearly-loved father? Impossible! No proof seems required to establish a fact which, so to say, proves itself by its simple statement.

Isolano, among the Oriental traditions which he collected, gives a touching instance of the love with which Jesus spoke of Joseph while on earth, saying to His disciples, to whom the knowledge of His Divine origin had already been revealed: “I conversed with Joseph in all things as if I had been His child. He called Me Son, and I called him father; and I loved him as the apple of My eye.” These and similar legends represent, if they do no more, the current opinion in the East in days near to the Gospel times. We gather from them more or less of evidence confirmatory of our conviction that Jesus did not regard His apparently close relationship to Joseph as a mere shield or mask, but recognized a real relationship therein, which, though not of the natural order, was none the less endearing. And, if we are to credit the revelations of Saints, in Heaven this relationship still endures, and He still calls Joseph father. Appearing one day toMarina de Escobar, accompanied by the Saint, He said to her: “See, here is My father, and whom I regarded as such upon earth; what think you of him?” It was, we might almost say-if it be permitted to do so without irreverence,-as if He were proud of him, proud of having had him for a father on earth, and desirous to show this holy soul his glory . The Bollandists also relate how Jesus appeared one day to St. Margaret of Cortona, and told her He took great pleasure in her devotion to His foster-father, Joseph, who was most dear to Him, and expressed His wish that she should every day pay him some special act of homage. [18] The heart melts with tenderness at such thoughts, even as it recoils from the idea that the close bond between Jesus and Joseph was only temporary, and merely ordained for a passing object. If, then, that bond still exists, assuredly Joseph is with Him in body as well as soul as truly as he was in the workshop of Nazareth, where they worked by each other’s side for so many years. St. Bernardine of Siena, that glory of the Seraphic Order and great lover of Joseph, in the admirable sermon which he delivered in honor of the Saint, after declaring his conviction that Joseph enjoyed the same privilege as Mary in the resurrection of his body, concludes with saying that, as this Holy Family-that is, Christ, the Virgin, and Joseph-had been united in a laborious life and in loving grace while on earth, so also their bodies and souls reign together in Heaven in loving glory, according to that Apostolic rule: II As you are partakers of the sufferings, so shall you be also of the consolation.” [19] Gerson, after saying that words fail him worthily to extol that admirable Trinity,-Jesus, Mary, and Joseph,-adds that, after Mary, Joseph is nearest to Jesus in Heaven, even as, after her, he was nearest on earth. P. Giovanni Osorio will not hear of Jesus, Mary, and Joseph being divided in Heaven, or of anyone being nearer to Mary in glory than her most sweet spouse, nor nearer to Jesus, after Mary, than His reputed father, since on earth there were none so closely united as Jesus, Mary , and Joseph. Isidoro de Isolano, whom we have just quoted, also says that Joseph, spouse of Mary, arrayed in two robes like the ancient Joseph-that is, with the blessedness of his soul and body,-accompanied Jesus in His Ascension into Heaven, and sat down next to the King of Glory, [20] that place being, according to Cartagena, on His left hand, the right being reserved for Mary.

It would be long to quote all the concurrent opinions of the learned and the holy, but we cannot omit that of Suarez. After saying much in praise of St. Joseph, he adds that, according to the sufficiently received belief, it was probable that he was reigning gloriously with Christ in Heaven, both in body and in soul. [21] If Suarez could call this a sufficiently received belief more than two hundred years ago, what would he have styled it at the present time, when it is held well-nigh universally? Finally, we must content ourselves with citing the opinions of two Saints of these later ages, St. Francis de Sales and St. Leonard of Port Maurice. The former, after speaking at some length of the resurrection of Joseph, thus concludes: “St. Joseph is, therefore, in Heaven in body and in soul; of that there is no doubt.” [22] And St. Leonard, in pronouncing his eulogium, exclaims that Joseph was transported in body and in soul to the empyrean by a particular privilege, which appears to be indicated in the Proverbs, where it is said that all of her [Mary’s] household are “ clothed with double garments,” [23] which interpreters have understood as signifying the twofold glorification of soul and body.

But let us look at the subject from another point of view. Our Divine Lord in calling from the grave this multitude of saints intended them, as the Master of Theologians teaches, [24] to serve as witnesses to the reality of His own Resurrection, in order that the disciples and the rest of the faithful should not imagine that it was a phantom who had appeared to them, but should firmly believe that it was truly He Himself, Jesus of Nazareth, whom they beheld. We know how hard of belief they were, and how, when they saw Him walking on the Sea of Galilee, notwithstanding all the wonders they had witnessed, they had cried out for fear, imagining it was an apparition. [25] And, although He had repeatedly told them He should rise from the grave, they refused at first to credit the testimony of Mary Magdalen and the other women; nay, Thomas refused to believe the word of the other ten Apostles, declaring that unless he had ocular and tangible proof he would not believe. Now, the Resurrection of Christ was, we may say, the very cornerstone of Christianity. It was that which the Apostles were to be sent forth pre-eminently to teach.” If Christ be not risen again,” says St. Paul writing to the Corinthians, “then is our preaching vain, and your faith is also vain.” [26] As, then, the Apostles were to preach this truth to the world, Jesus made use of these risen Saints to confirm their faith in His Resurrection; they were to be to the Apostles what the Apostles were afterwards to be to all the nations of the earth. Angels were employed by Him for the same purpose, declaring it to the women on that first Easter morn, and showing them His open sepulcher. [27] But the Son of God desired also to have the testimony of men, and that, not only to His own Resurrection, but to His power to raise from the dead whomsoever He would. He, therefore, by His Divine omnipotence and the virtue of His victory over the grave, raised to life the bodies of His dearest friends to overcome the incredulity of His followers. But was there any among them whose testimony would have been more credible than that of Joseph? What patriarch or prophet of the Old Testament could have given the witness to Jesus that the spouse of Mary could give? Abraham beheld Him in spirit from afar, but Joseph saw Him with his bodily eyes in his own house for many years. David prophesied the coming of the Incarnate Word, and described His principal actions, but Joseph had received Him into his arms when He came into the world, and took part in almost all the mysteries of His life. If Joseph, then, who, according to this pious belief, was certainly among the risen Saints, could have said tothe Apostles, “This is the true Son of Mary, Jesus of Nazareth, the only Savior of men; this is truly He whom I saw born in a stable, the same whom I circumcised, whom I carried into Egypt, whom for a long time I sustained by my labor, and who labored with me in my workshop at Nazareth, He is the same, doubt it not, disciples of Jesus,” must not this testimony, given by one who was also personally known to them, have been a more convincing proof of the Savior’s Resurrection than what all the Fathers of the Old Testament could furnish? The Spirit of God had taught us by the mouth of prophets the eternal generation of the Son of God, Angels proclaimed His temporal generation when He was born in Bethlehem, but to Joseph was given the honor of declaring to the nascent Church what may be called the immortal generation of Jesus, that is, His Resurrection from the dead by the power of the Spirit! [28] All that the other resuscitated Saints might say could not have had such persuasive efficacy as would have had the testimony of Joseph risen from the dead. May we not be permitted to apply to him the words of Ecclesiasticus respecting the ancient Patriarch: “His bones were visited, and after death they prophesied,” [29] or preached? Whatever may be their meaning as regards the elder Joseph-for no tradition has reached us of any wonder or miracle wrought by his precious relics-they were amply verified in the great Saint, his prototype, if, indeed, it were given to him to publish to the Apostles the Resurrection of the Savior, and, through them, as we may say, to preach to the whole Church.

Jesus is the Bread of Life, of Which whosoever partakes shall have eternal life. Hence the Fathers often call the Flesh of Jesus Life-giving Flesh. Contact with It in the Holy Eucharist pours graces into our souls and deposits the germ of our future glorified bodies. If this be so, we may consider, with St. Francis de Sales, that Joseph, having enjoyed the honor of being so closely united to Jesus, of kissing Him devoutly, embracing Him tenderly, and bearing Him so often folded in his arms, must have had a sufficient title to an anticipated resurrection. The Flesh of Jesus is like a Heavenly magnet to draw to Itself the bodies of those who have been honored and sanctified by Its touch. Were they as dry and heavy as the clods of earth which cover them, the Son of God promises them the agility of eagles to fly to Him when, at His second coming, His voice shall be heard by them in their graves: “Wheresoever the Body is, there shall the eagles be gathered together.” [30] But can earth have detained the body of holy Joseph until the consummation of ages, whose union with the Savior had been so close and so endearing? St. Augustine-or whoever may be the author of the Treatise on the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin-and other Fathers of the Church give as a reason for believing in the resurrection of Mary that it would have been indecorous that the body of one who was so closely united to Jesus, of whose flesh He had taken flesh, and who had rendered Him so many services, should have remained the slave of death until the end of the world. Now, what is pre-eminently true of the Mother of God applies in large measure to him whom Jesus called His father on earth, and who served Him with such matchless devotion; so that we may readily believe or, rather, we are irresistibly led to believe, that he who was more intimately united to Him than was any other Saint must thence have derived a right superior to that of all others to share the bliss and glory of His risen Body.

The ancient Joseph, when about to die, besought his brethren not to leave his remains in Egypt, but to bear them to the promised land; and Moses faithfully fulfilled the last will of the Patriarch, and carried the relics of this holy man into Palestine. [31] We see here a figure of Joseph, the spouse of Mary, who, when at the point of death, full of confidence in the Savior’s love, recommended, not his soul only, but his body, to that dear Son, who gave it His blessing; and that blessing was a promise. Jesus, Who had so often sweetly reposed upon the bosom of Joseph, who had nurtured, defended, and toiled for Him during thirty years, would not leave Him in the Egypt of this world, but, when he passed to the promised land, took him with Him into Heaven, there to enjoy without delay the fulness of eternal bliss. Thus may we say with the Prophet that Joseph had “a double portion” [32] in that true land of promise, the blessedness of the body as well as of the soul.

Many other reasons might be alleged in support of this belief, and in particular the desire of Mary. When the Blessed Virgin rose from the sepulcher on the day of her glorious Assumption, would she, so to say, have been satisfied had she not seen her chaste spouse, Joseph, similarly glorified? The most pure and holy marriage of Joseph with Mary was, like his paternity, to endure for ever. It was ordained in connection with the Incarnation of the Word, and, as that mystery was still subsisting, and would subsist throughout eternity, so was it also with this alliance. The Word espoused human nature to Himself for ever, and Joseph was united for ever with the Most Blessed Virgin; and, as death did not sever the tie which united the Word to the Body and Soul which He had taken, so neither did it sever the tie which bound together the hearts of Mary and Joseph. She loved him, and will love him as her spouse for all eternity, and must therefore have ardently desired the full completion of his bliss. Even if the loving heart of Jesus had not shared that desire, He must have yielded to the solicitations of her at whose request, for a motive immeasurably less pressing, He had changed the water into wine at the marriage-feast of Cana. St. Peter Damian has left on record his opinion, that St. John the Evangelist is risen and glorified both in body and soul in Heaven, because he was like to Mary in virginal purity, and so intimately associated with her that we cannot conceive the one being raised without the other. [33] But how incomparably more weight such reasons have in favor of her virgin spouse!

Further, we may confidently hold that, had this venerable body been left on earth, God would never have allowed it to remain concealed, and thus to be deprived of the honor given to the relics of Saints much inferior to him. Ecclesiastical history frequently alludes to miracles which it pleased the Lord to work in order to the discovery of the precious remains of many of His servants, that men might render them due veneration, transport them to their churches, place them under their altars, and honor them with religious cultus. But of Joseph nothing remains save the ring he placed on Mary’s finger on the day of their espousals, for the possession of which two cities have contended, and a few fragments of his garments, to which pious homage is still paid. Angels were charged to bear the Holy House of Nazareth into Catholic lands, that it might not be left in the possession of infidels; and, if God thus willed that this material tenement should be preserved and honored, is it conceivable that He should have abandoned the body of him who was the owner of that house and the pure spouse of His Blessed Mother, and left it all these centuries in the cold grasp of death? We have every reason, then, to conclude from such facts as these that earth no longer possesses the body of our Saint. Indeed, a latent, if not a positive and declared conviction, seems to have dwelt in the hearts of the great body of the faithful, when visiting his sepulcher in the Valley of Josaphat nigh to that of his most holy spouse; [34] that, like her, he is not there, but is glorified in body as well as soul.

Many learned doctors, and among them [as we have said] St. Francis de Sales, consider that several of the alleged reasons for his anticipated resurrection amount to demonstration. Nay, God Himself seems to have authorized the belief by a striking miracle; for when St. Bernardine of Siena, preaching in Padua, declared that the body and soul of Joseph were both glorified in Heaven, a rich cross of gold was seen to shine over the head of the preacher, proving to the very eyes of those who surrounded him the truth which he was conveying to their ears. The pious Bernardine de Bustis, who was himself a witness of this marvel, also most firmly held that Joseph rose from the grave with Christ and, along with the risen Savior, went to visit his holy spouse, and is now enjoying eternal life and glory ineffable, soul and body, in their company. [35]

How great the glory of the beatified body of Joseph may be, it is beyond the power of our feeble imaginations to conceive. We only know that it must be proportioned to the glory of his soul. It is certain that the Body of the Lord, when He rose victorious from the grave, possessed such marvelous endowments and was adorned with such matchless splendor that all earthly magnificence and beauty is but a shadow of its glory. The living palace of the Incarnate Word, in which, as the Apostle says, “dwelleth all the fulness of the Godhead corporally,” [36] must needs thus be gifted and enriched. But Jesus was not only rich in Himself, but rich in order to impart His riches. His followers are to be partakers of it, each in his measure, and that measure, be it small or great, will include and, indeed, will consist in likeness to Himself. The beloved disciple, unable to describe the future blessedness of the sons of God, says, “It hath not yet appeared what we shall be,” and then he adds, “We know that when He shall appear we shall be like to Him.” [37] That is all he could say; and it was the highest thing he could have said. That adorable Body being, indeed, the first and most perfect of all corporeal beauties, we cannot estimate the riches and glory of other bodies save by comparing them with this Divine exemplar. When the Son of God, then, was willed to raise His father Joseph with Him from the grave, we feel that He had what we might almost call a special obligation to grant him a singular likeness to Himself. Joseph had been very like to Him on earth, and it was fitting that he should be so in order to confirm the opinion that he was truly His father; and now, in the resurrection, Jesus enhances that likeness, not to establish, but to recompense the paternity of Joseph, and to preserve that just conformity in Heaven which was befitting the relationship subsisting between them, a relationship which, next to that which united Him to His Immaculate Mother, was the most intimate and the most glorious. When Joseph, therefore, entered Heaven on the Ascension Day, he presented to the eyes of the Angels the most magnificent object, next to the Sacred Humanity of the Eternal Son, which they had ever beheld. Mary, their Queen, was, it is true, to shine with still more resplendent luster, but never for a moment must we imagine that her arrival on the day of her Assumption caused the glory of her spouse to pale; on the contrary, it increased and intensified it through that celestial law of reflection of which we have the type and similitude in nature on this earth of ours. The bodies of all the Saints will be invested with light, a light which emanates from the Lamb, who is the lamp and the sun of the New Jerusalem, [38] but the Savior and His most holy Mother will delight in causing the brightest beams of their glory to irradiate through all eternity the beatified body of Joseph, who, abiding ever in close proximity to the central splendors of the empyrean-the Sacred Humanity of the Incarnate Word and His most holy Mother-will be even penetrated with their light-as a precious metal glows with the same intenseness as the furnace in which it is plunged, or, like some pure mirror, which, confronted with the sun, faithfully repeats its image-a light too dazzling for mortal eyes to gaze upon. What more can we say? Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, the earthly Trinity, now together enthroned in the blaze of supernal glory, shine in that light eternal which by communication becomes, as it were, common to all three.

NOTES

1. Tom. ii. disp. viii. sec. 1.

2. Lib. iv. Hom. viii.

3. Il Divoto di S. Giuseppe, Novena, Gior. vi.

4. Heb. i. 6.

5. St. Matthew i. 20, 2 ; ii. 13, 19, 20.

6. Chap. xlii. 8.

7. Heb. i. 5.

8. Entretien, xix.

9. Mariale, Sermo xii.

10. Declared Blessed by Leo X. Her life was written by Isidoro Isolano.

11. Cartagena, Lib. iv. Hom. viii.

12. St. Mark x. 35.40.

13. Entretien, iii 13.

14. “Cœlitum Joseph decus.”

15. St. Matthew xxvii. 51, 52.

16. Psalm lxvii 19;

17. St. John v. 21.

18. Apud Bolland. die 22 Februarii.

19. Cor. i. 7.

20. In speaking of two robes, he alludes to the robe of silk with which Pharao invested the viceroy of Egypt, in addition to his own, when he placed him in his second chariot [Gen. xli. 42].

21. Tom. ii. in p. iii. S. Thomæ, disp. viii. sec. ii. a. 2.

22. Entretien, xix. n. 22.

23. Prov. xxxi. 22. Panegir. di S. Giuseppe, n. 4.

24. “They rose, to die no more, because they rose to manifest the Resurrection of Christ.”-St. Thomas, in Matthœum, cap. xxvii.

25. St. Matthew xiv. 25.27; St. Mark vi. 48.50; xvi. 11, 14; St. Luke xxiv. 11; St. John xx. 25.

26. 1 Cor. xv. 14.

27. St. Matthew xxviii. 5, 6; St. Mark xvi. 6; St. Luke xxiv. 5–7.

28. Rom. viii. 11 ; Eph. i. 19.

29. Chap. xlix. 18.

30. St. Matthew xxiv. 28.

31. Gen. I. 24 ; Exod. xiii. 19.

32. Ezekiel xlvii. 13.

33. Sermo ii de S. Joseph.

34. Bede, De Locis Sanctis, cap. lx.

35. Mariale, p. iv. Serm. xii.

36. Col. ii. 9.

37. 1 St. John iii. 2.

38. Apoc. xxii. 5.

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The Glories of The Catholic Church

BY REV. MARTIN SCOTT, S. J., AND MOST REV. E. T. O’DWYER, D. D., LATE BISHOP OF LIMERICK

INDEX

PART 1

THE CATHOLIC CHURCH: ITS ORIGIN, NATURE AND CREDENTIALS

Every Christian denomination that recites the Apostles’ Creed, repeats the words: “I believe in . . . the Holy Catholic Church.” The Holy Catholic Church is the Church founded by Jesus Christ. Christ founded one Church only, with definite doctrine and with a supreme visible head.

For many centuries after the time of Christ, The Catholic Church, with the Pope as its visible Head, was the acknowledged Church of Christ throughout Christendom and was the only Church claiming to be Christ’s own Church.

In The tenth century, the Greeks separated from the Church established by Christ. Their contention was that there was no supreme visible head of the Catholic Church. In the sixteenth century the Reformers, so-called, separated from the Church established by Christ. Their contention was that the Church founded by Christ had fallen into error. Since the sixteenth century the declinations which sprang from the Reformation have become so numerous that they are counted by hundreds, and have so modified their doctrine, that if the original reformers returned to earth they would not recognise the Churches they founded.

Christendom now presents three distinct religions or Churches: (1) the original Catholic Church; (2) the later Greek Church; and, (3) the modern Protestant Church. As both the Greek Church and the Protestant Church separated from the original Catholic Church because they maintain that the original Church of Christ had fallen into error the error so essential as to justify separation it follows that both the Greek Church and the Protestant Church hold different doctrine, from the Catholic Church. Heresy, if the Catholic Church is right, the Greek and the Protestant Churches are wrong. If the Catholic Church were wrong, the original Church of Christ is wrong, for the Catholic is the only Church, which dates its origin from Christ. If therefore the original Church of Christ be in error, Christ’s promise has failed, and He was not what He claimed to be. Christ claimed to be God. But God’s word cannot fail, if therefore, the original Church of Christ be in error, her Founder’s word was false. He was not God, and Christianity is false.

It all comes to this, therefore: Was Christ God and did He establish a Church, which was to last forever, and to teach the truth and only the truth in religious matters?

All Christians believe that Christ is God. They affirm this belief when they recite the Apostles’ Creed: “I believe in God, the Father Almighty, Creator of heaven and earth, and in Jesus Christ, His only Son, our Lord.” From Scripture it is also certain that Christ established a Church, which was to last forever and to teach His revealed truth always. They who deny that Christ is God are consistent in rejecting the Catholic Church. But, those who believe that Christ is God are inconsistent and illogical in rejecting the Catholic Church. Let me make this plain. If Christ be not God he was a fool or a fraud, and Christianity as a religion is false. But if Christ, is God, His word cannot fail. He gave His word that His Church should never falsify His doctrine. Hence those who believe that Christ is God, must also believe that the Church He founded can never falsify His teaching.

Consistency demands that we accept the Catholic Church as the living teacher of God’s truth, reject both her Founder and His religion there is no midway. If Christ is God, His word is guarantee of truth, and His word has been given to the Catholic Church-the only one that goes back to Him as Founder If Christ, be not God away with Christian belief altogether; for the basis of Christianity is the divinity of Christ, and if the basis be not sound the whole edifice is unsound.

It may be asked. If the case is as stated, how is it that any one can fail to see the logic of it? 1t is because either environment or education has been such as to put some people into a state of mind by which they are not open to conviction in the matter. The preaching and miracles of our divine Lord were the same for all the people who heard and saw Him, but all did not become His followers. The teaching and miracles which converted those who were open to conviction failed to convert those who were not open to conviction

There must be the disposition to believe the truth: and the effort to learn the truth; and the determination to pay the price for the truth: if one is to know and to embrace the truth. Christ said: “My kingdom is not of this world” (Jn. xviii, 36) .The Jewish leaders wanted a messiah whose kingdom was of this world, so they blinded themselves to the evidence which Christ presented. But the great body of the people accepted the evidence, and acclaimed Christ as the Messiah as we see from the Bible:

“Many therefore of the Jews, who . . . had seen the things that Jesus did believed in Him . . . The chief priests therefore, and the Pharisees, gathered a council, and said: What do we, for this man doth many miracles? If we let Him alone, all will believe in Him . . . From that day therefore they devised to put Jesus to death”

It is clearly evident, therefore, that the same deeds which converted those open to conviction, only hardened and perverted those who were not, open to conviction. These, latter were not looking for the truth, but for what they wanted, they did not have the disposition to believe; but rather the will to have their own way. This we see from the fact that the Jewish leaders plotted Murder in order to destroy the evidence, which they did not want to accept.

Hear what the Gospel says in the matter: “A great multitude of the Jews came . . . that they might see Lazarus, whom Christ had raised from the dead. But the chief priests thought to kill Lazarus also; because many of the Jews, by reason of him, went away and believed in Jesus. And on the next day, a great multitude that was come to the festival day, when they had heard that Jesus was coming to Jerusalem, took branches of palm trees, and went forth to meet Him, and cried: Hosanna, blessed is He, that, cometh in the name of the Lord, the King of Israel”

Why Were the Jewish leaders not open to conviction as were, the people? Because the ruling element had made up their minds. They wanted a messiah who would confirm them in their worldly ambitions but Christ proclaimed that, His Kingdom was not of this world. So they rejected Him, they not only rejected Him, but, by the vilest propaganda and threats, ever employed among mankind, force those who acclaimed Christ as the Messiah on Palm Sunday, to clamour for His death on Good Friday, they who shouted “Hosanna” on Sunday, cried out “Crucify Him, crucify Him.” on the following Friday.

Various things can put people into a state of mind in which, like the Scribes and Pharisees, they are not open to conviction. National or racial prejudice will cause people of one race or nation not to be open to conviction with regard, to what concerns the claims of the other race or nation. The World War affords proof of this. Again, if one’s welfare or interests be at stake one will frequently not be open to conviction in the case in question. Lawsuits are proof of this. Neither party to a lawsuit is ordinarily open to conviction regarding the point at issue. That is why recourse, is had to litigation.

And so with regard to religion―circumstances of one kind or another may prevent people from seeing or adopting the truth. Sometimes this state of mind is culpable, sometimes it is not. God is the sole Judge. We know how people act in ordinary matters. If for instance, a person claimed to have the sole title to a piece of property to which another thought he had a claim, the other would undoubtedly look into the legality of the sole claim.

The Catholic Church claims to be the sole institution founded by Jesus and guaranteed by Him to preach His truths to the end of time. That claim is serious and worthwhile examining into. Very many of the most, intellectual and upright persons of other creeds have examined into these claims of the Catholic Church and have been convinced that her claims are true and been in consequence joined her communion. This they have done, ordinarily, at the cost of great sacrifice- socially, financially and prospectively. They have found, on investigation, that their previous notion of the Catholic Church was only a caricature of her. They found that their false idea of the Catholic Church was due to the fact that those who separated from her considered it necessary to misrepresent her in order to try to justify their stand. In this way the information they had of her was poisoned at its source

It has been said that much of history since the Reformation has been a conspiracy against the Catholic Church. Some people, accordingly, may not be culpable for their hostile attitude towards Christ’s own Church. However-when they see the disruption of Protestant belief, and it’s contradictory ritual and practice, and it’s drift towards unbelief or paganism; and, on the other hand the definite Creed and rituals of the Catholic Church-they certainly should make, inquiries into the credentials of the only Church whose Creed has not changed since it was given to her by her divine Founder, and which claims, and has claimed from the beginning, to be the sole Church of Christ.

Christ is both divine and human. He is God from all eternity, and man from the Incarnation.

“In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God . . . all things were made by Him . . . and the Word was made flesh, and dwelt among us” (Jn. i, 1–14).

As Christ, the Founder of the Catholic Church, is both divine and human-so also is the Church which He founded. The Catholic Church is divine in that her Founder is divine, and that she has His divine guarantee, and assistance to transmit to the end of time, without error the doctrine He imparted to her. She is human in that men, not angels, are her ministers and lay members. The doctrine of Catholic Church is divinely true; the preachers of her doctrine and the ministers of her sacraments and her members are all human with the weaknesses and passions of fallen human nature.

Christ guaranteed His Church against error-He did not guarantee her members against sin. While promising that He would abide forever with His Church. He also stated that would stain her fair name, but He fulminated dreadful threats against those who would be the causeof scandal. The Catholic Church, therefore, although the depository of Christ’s truth, and its guardian and infallible teacher to the end of time, is, nevertheless, composed of members-clergy as well as laymen-who are weak human beings as is the rest of mankind.

God, Who permits sin, threatens the sinner with dire chastisement. He permits sin because He endowed man with free will. If man did not have the choice of good and evil, he would not be free, but bound to a certain course of conduct. God so respects man’s free will that He allowed one of the twelve Apostles to use it to betray the Divine Master. But although God allowed Judas to use his free will against its Giver, Christ said of the traitor: “It were better for that man, if he had not been born” (Mt. xxvi, 24). And so in His Church, although He gives the grace and incentives for holiness of life, He allows man to use the liberty He has given him, either to observe the law or to violate it.

If one of the Twelve, under the very eyes and example of the Master, fell into grievous sin, we should not be surprised that in the course of the ages some of the ministers of His Church should prove false to their holy charge. The clergy have the weaknesses and passions of human nature just as much as laymen have. True, their lofty vocation with its accompanying graces demands higher sanctity of them, but, notwithstanding, they sometimes forget their obligations just as laymen sometimes forget theirs. Sin is greater in the clergy because of their higher ideals, and more abundant means of grace. But human nature is human nature, whether in clergy or laymen. Sometimes those who most severely criticise the clergy are themselves the worst offenders of God’s law. However, that does not affect the matter in hand, which is that men-not angels-are the Ministers of God’s word, and that, consequently they are not immune from the sins of mankind.

St. Paul declared that while preaching to others, he feared lest he himself might become a transgressor-”I chastise my body, and bring it into subjection: lest perhaps, when I have preached to others I myself should become a castaway” (1 Cor. ix, 27). If the great Apostle, who saw Christ face to face, did not consider himself to be outside the range of sin, we should not be amazed that in the world-wide Catholic Church there have been, and are those who are unworthy of their sacred calling.

All this has been said in order to make it clear that Christ, Who guaranteed His Church against false doctrine, did not, guarantee her members-neither cleric nor lay-against evil conduct. A judge of the Supreme Court may be a most excellent interpreter and expounder of the Constitution, even though his moral conduct be not in keeping with his judicial status. The Church of Christ although composed of sinful men, is never the less, of the divine guarantee of her Founder, safeguarded against error in proclaiming to the world the truths of Revelation.

Even if Scripture did not explicitly state that the Church of Christ would never err in doctrine, it would nevertheless be evident from the nature of the Church that she should be immune from error in transmitting the doctrine of her Founder. This will be clearly seen if we consider why Christ founded a Church. Christ, as we know, is God. He became man for two main purposes: (1) to atone for sin and, (2) to be our Leader and Model. He atoned for sin once for all on Calvary. But by His life and teaching He became the Leader and Model not only for those of His own generation, but for all mankind to the end of time.

But how were His life and teaching to he transmitted down the ages, from generation to generation, until the end of the world?

Christ did not write a book, nor did He leave His message to mankind carved on stone or metal or written across the sky. Yet His deeds and doctrine were not merely for the people of His day. He might have devised any of many ways for the perpetuation of His ministry to mankind. But it is not a question of what He might have done but of what He has done. He established a Church-that is, a corporate body of men, especially formed by Himself-to continue what He had inaugurated. Particularly note that His purpose in establishing His Church was to transmit His heavenly teaching to succeeding ages. His Church was to speak for Him to the generations which were to follow His departure from this world.

Since, therefore, the office of Christ’s Church was to represent Him on earth, it is clear that if He wanted future generations to know His doctrine as He delivered it, He must see to it in some way that she truly speaks for Him. Hence Christ declared that by special divine assistance, His Church would he preserved from error in teaching mankind the truths He had revealed to her. Far from being surprised at this we should rather be surprised if Christ had not done it. If He thought enough of His doctrine to reveal it, He certainly thought enough of it to preserve it intact for those for whom it was intended. If His truths were so necessary to mankind that He declared that on them depended man’s eternal welfare, it certainly behoved Him to see to it that these truths reached mankind to the end of the World, exactly as He had revealed them. The means Christ chose for this was the institution of His Church, as we see from the plain language of Scripture. After Peter had solemnly affirmed his faith in Christ as the Son of the living God, Jesus said to him: “Thou art Peter (a rock); and upon this rock I will build My Church, and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it” (Mt. xvi, 18). This was the promise Christ proclaimed that He was to found a Church and that the gates of Hell-that is, Satan or error-should never have place in it.

Christ also stated how the Church was to be safeguarded against error: “I will ask the Father, and He shall give you another Paraclete, that He may abide with you forever-the Spirit of Truth” (Jn. xiv, 16). It was humanly impossible for a teaching body not to err. Hence Christ proclaimed that the Spirit of Truth-the Paraclete, the Holy Ghost-should abide in His Church, and preserve His truth intact. Having assured His Apostles of divine assistance in their ministry of proclaiming His doctrine, Christ solemnly commissioned them to go forth as His representatives:

“All Power is given to Me in heaven and in earth. Going therefore teach ye all nations; baptising them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Teaching them to observe all things whatsoever I have commanded you: and behold I am with you all day, even to the consummation of the world” (Mt xxviii, 18–20).

Christ made the Apostles His ambassadors, endowing them with power from on high with regard to their office of preserving and teaching the Faith. “As the Father hath sent Me, I also send you. When He had said this, He breathed on them; and He said to them: Receive ye the Holy Ghost” (Jn. xx, 21–22). Christ thus conferred on His Apostles the Holy Spirit of Truth Whom He had previously promised them. Thus fortified by divine assistance He made them His ambassadors. This He had particularly emphasised when He said: “Go: I send you . . . He that heareth you heareth Me” (Lk. x, 3–16). It was in view of the fact that God made His Church His representative on earth that St. Paul spoke of her as “The House of God, which is the Church of the living God, the pillar and ground of the truth” (1 Tim iii, 15 ). It was because the Church was the pillar and ground of the truth that, St. Paul said: “Though an angel from heaven preach a gospel to you besides that which we have preached to you, let him be anathema,” (Gal. i,8). Strong words these from the great Apostle. But he states why he is so positive:”The gospel preached by me is not according to man, for neither did I receive it of man, nor did I learn it; but by the revelation of God.” (Gal. i, 11–22). It is because St. Paul speaks in the name of God and with God’s assurance of the Spirit of Truth abiding in him that he declared that the ministers of the Church are “ambassadors for Christ” (11 Cor. v, 20).

It is certain that Christ will not permit His ambassadors to falsify Him nor His doctrine. For this reason Catholics regard the Church as they do Christ Himself. And they do so on His word: “He that hearth you, hearth me” (Lk. x, 16). This being so, the attitude of Catholics to the Church is that of St. Paul to Christ as expressed when he said: “Lord, what wilt Thou have me do?” (Acts ix, 6). We have God’s authority for hearing the Church as His voice. This is why those of Christ’s own Church, have that certainty of belief and that joyousness in worship and that firmness in times of trial which evoke the admiration of the world.

When one says: “I believe in the Holy Catholic Church” two things are included in this act of faith (1) belief; and, (2) the Holy Catholic Church. We must state what is meant by belief, and what is meant by the Holy Catholic Church. By belief is not meant opinion, nor conjecture, nor view, nor strong persuasion, but absolute conviction. This belief is of such a nature that it admits of no doubt whatsoever, It is as firm as mathematical certainty, and is based on the veracity of God Who has revealed the doctrine of the Catholic Church. This firm conviction does not imply that what is believed is comprehended any more than the physicist comprehends what the force of gravity is, This belief is so firm, that, if need be, believers will die for their conviction. Ten thousand difficulties do not make a doubt. Belief is consistent with a million difficulties but not with a single doubt. The astronomer has countless difficulties regarding the firmament-but not a doubt about it’s being in motion. Scientists have innumerable difficulties with regard to the nature of electricity-but not a doubt about its reality. Faith may present innumerable difficulties-but it does not admit of a single doubt. He who doubts in matters of Faith has never had real Faith or else has lost it. Faith and doubt are incompatible-just as incompatible as God and error, or, as light and darkness. Catholic belief is based on the veracity of God Himself. That is why it never wavers.

If belief presented no difficulties, there would be little merit in Faith. There is little or no credit in believing what is evident. Faith is a virtue. Virtue which is not tested in some way can hardly be termed virtue. The virtue of courage is tested by danger; honesty, by temptation to steal; truthfulness, by the inducement to lie; and so on. Many people appear to be virtuous until some occasion reveals their real character. Temptation does not make the thief but reveals him. Danger does not make the coward but declares him. And so of every virtue-the proof of it is in its capacity to stand the test. Truth, chastity, justice, and every virtue must rise to the occasion, and be superior to temptation. That is why virtue is so highly esteemed. It is proof that it has stood the test.

Faith also has its test. God reveals what is above our comprehension. He wants us to believe on His word. Belief often implies the acceptance of what, is beyond our understanding. But, nevertheless, we bow down our judgment, sacrificing it on the altar of God’s veracity, and thus paying Him the tribute of intellectual submission. That is what makes Faith valuable in God’s sight. It is sacrifice of our noblest faculty-our judgment.

The tendency to self-opinion is proverbial. Ordinarily, the last thing a man will renounce is his own opinion. Some persons hold to their own judgment in spite of every valid argument to the contrary. Now to relinquish one’s own judgment on the sole word of another is a great compliment to the character of that other. That is what makes Faith so meritorious. It is the relinquishing of what is dearest to man. This does not mean that Faith is blind or unreasonable. Without understanding his diagnosis we submit to the judgment of a physician whom we trust. Without understanding how he performs the operation, we place our lives in the hands of a surgeon in whom we have confidence. We entrust our safety to the engineer of the train which we board, not because we understand engineering, but because we have faith in the engineer. And so we submit our judgment to the word of God because we know lie can neither deceive nor be deceived. That is good logic. That is no surrender of reason, but a right use of it. Of course, the whole matter reduces itself to this: Has God spoken? Christ is God. Christ has spoken. Therefore, our belief in His preaching is rational and absolutely firm, Hence, Catholic belief is fixed because truth is fixed. Catholics do not have to worry about doctrine. Everything essential has been settled once for all by Him Who is the Way, the Truth and the Light of the world so much for belief.

Let us now consider the Church. When it is said that, we believe in the Holy Catholic Church, we mean by the Church that organisation instituted by Christ for continuing and extending the work which He began. Christ did not write a book, nor did He carve his teaching on stone. Neither did He leave it to chance to reach future generations. He established a society called the Holy Catholic Church, and left with this society not only His leaching, but also His guarantee that His teaching would be divinely safeguarded from error. Unless Christ’s own Church had divine guidance and support, it had perished before it had fairly begun. Tradition states that St. Peter, on his way to preach the religion of Christ to the citizens of Rome, was met by a pagan philosopher. The following dialogue ensued:

“Whither art thou bound, Galilean?”

“To Rome.”

“What wouldst thou in Rome?”

“To teach Christ crucified”

“His doctrine is?”

“That the soul is of more value than the whole world.”

“But the Romans love wealth. What else?”

“Self-denial and humility.”

“The Romans are proud and honour pride. What else?”

“Renunciation of Worldly pleasure.”

“Go back; thou hast come to the wrong people: for the Romans are addicted to wealth, and pleasure and enjoyment.”

What chance had the Church of Christ against such odds unless God was with her? But because God was with her, she triumphed over every obstacle, making pagan Rome the heart of Christendom, and supplanting the Roman Eagles by the Cross.

The Church is not something in the air-something intangible; but a real organisation of Christ’s own founding. Christ established His Church to preach His doctrine and to administer His sacraments. Such a mission requires human beings and material means. The Church is spiritual in the sense that she employs spiritual motives, and gives spiritual aids, and aims at spiritual welfare. But she is visible and material, also inasmuch as she is composed of human ministers and employs material agencies. A Church that preaches and administers sacraments must have men to preach and to administer the sacred rites. The doctrine of Christ, and the mode of administering His sacraments were left, not in a book, but with a living organisation. It was this organisation-which Christ called His Church-that He sent forth into the world to preach His religion and to give His sacramental help for its practice. If Christ’s teaching was to be kept intact, somebody had to keep it; somebody had to pass it on unerringly by word or writing.

Those, therefore, who say that Christ established a religion but not a visible Church, are like unto those who would affirm that an eloquent discourse was delivered without a speaker. The invisible Church idea was invented in an effort to save Protestantism; for it was clear that no visible Church of Christ would be so contradictory in doctrine and practice as were the various Evangelical denominations. So they devised the theory that the religion of Christ was the spirit of Christ manifesting itself variously in various denominations.

St. Paul, however, has said that even if an angel from heaven should preach a different doctrine from what the Church delivered, the angel should not be heard, but should be anathematised. When, therefore, the Apostles’ Creed states, “I believe in . . . the Holy Catholic Church,” the meaning is that we believe in her as if we beheld Christ Himself in person addressing us.

In putting this trust in the Church we are simply doing what Christ has enjoined upon us. He said of His representatives: “He that heareth you, heareth Me” (Lk. x, 16). The resurrected Christ, in speaking to his Church as his representative, said: “As the Father hath sent Me, I also send you” (Jn. xx, 21). If He Who said these words were not God, then there is no divine Church at all, and there is no use belonging to any Church. But Christ is God; He established a Church; that Church is the Holy Catholic Church-Christ’s own Church; and we believe in her as we do in God Himself.

Some denominations recite the Apostle’s Creed regularly at their services. They repeat Sunday after Sunday-”I believe in. . . . . . the Holy Catholic Church.” Nevertheless they do not believe in the Holy Catholic Church.

Catholic is from the Greek word meaning universal. It was applied to the Church of Christ because this Church was not confined to any part of the world, nor to any race or nation, nor identified with any government or class of people, but, existed in every part of the world, and embraced every race and nation, and functioned under every form of government. Yet, although this Church has always been universal, it forms one corporate body, as closely united as if it existed in one place only, notwithstanding the fact that it exists everywhere. The Catholic Church is the only corporate religious body in the world which is not national, racial nor local. By corporate body is meant a society whose members are united in one organisation, just as the members of the human body are, united to form one person.

The Catholic Church is not only universal in the sense that she exists in every part of the world as one body under one administrative head, but also in the sense, that her teaching is everywhere and always the same. We know how difficult, or rather impossible it is for a local society of any kind to hold together for a long period, and to preserve unity among its members. It is much more difficult for a state or national government to preserve, for long, unity of belief and government.

Christ said of His Church: “I am with you all days” (Mt. xxviii, 20). This explains the universal and perpetual existence of the Catholic Church; and also accounts for the fact that her teaching has always been the truth of God, and therefore always the same, since truth never changes.

The Catholic Church is the only corporate religious society which goes back to Jesus Christ, the Founder of Christianity. The Church founded by Christ was a corporate society with Peter its first head: “Thou art Peter [a rock]; and on this rock I will build My Church, and the, gates of hell shall not prevail against it,” (Mt.xvi. 18). It is the Catholic Church, therefore, or the rejection of Christ and His Church altogether, if one wants to be logical and consistent.

PART II

THE CATHOLIC CHURCH: THE PRINCIPLE AND SOURCES OF IT’S INDEFECTIBLE LIFE

(Sermon preached by Most Rev. Dr. O’Dwyer at consecration of Most Rev. B. Hackett, late Bishop of Waterford,

March 19,1916.)

“And I say to thee: that thou art Peter; and upon this rock I will build My Church, and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it.” (Matt. xvi., 18)

Five months ago we assembled in this Cathedral to offer to God our prayers and the suffrages of the Church for the repose of the soul of the great Bishop who had just passed away. We desired also to pay a tribute of respect to his memory, and no one who was present on that occasion will forget the manifestation of reverential sorrow in the midst of which the remains of Dr. Sheehan were borne to the grave. It was worthy of this fine old Catholic City of Waterford and showed how quick its people are to recognise and to honour the worth of a bishop who devoted his high abilities without stintto the duties of his sacred office . . .

Today the period of our mourning is over, and God, through his Vicar on earth, has sent you a child of your own diocese to fill the vacant chair of Waterford, to take in his hand the crozier of St. Carthage and to lead the flock committed to his care into the way of salvation.

No episcopate could begin under happier omens. We all know your young Bishop, and to know him is to love and to respect him. Years ago he turned away from all the attractions which even in the Church might move a young priest’s ambition. He severed all the ties that bind one to home and friends and gave himself to the service of God and the work of the missions amongst the devoted sons of St. Alphonsus Liguori. He had little thought of becoming Bishop of Waterford.

But God can work out the designs of His providence in other than human ways; and now the Holy See, with its own, unfailing prudence, having received from the clergy of the diocese the names of three ecclesiastics whom they deemed worthy of the bishopric, and submitted these names for a special report to the Bishops of the Province of Cashel, has made its choice and given you Dr. Hackett for your Bishop. We all hope and pray that the episcopate which is now begun may be blessed by God, and prolonged for many years, and be fruitful in blessings for the clergy and people of the diocese; and when your Bishop’s turn comes to render an account of his stewardship, he may appear before the great Bishop and

Shepherd of all souls with his hands full of merit for work well done for the Church of God. And it is in its relation to the universal Church that the sacred function in which we are engaged has its sanctity and its importance. We are not merely filling a local vacancy, appointing a distinguished man to a high office, but the solemn function of today is instinct with the life of the whole Catholic Church. The spirit of God Who sustains and directs her has descended on your Bishop in the fullness of the Sacrament of Orders; he is constituted ruler, teacher, shepherd of this portion of the flock of Christ and his authority has behind it, and in it, the full power and sanction of the Catholic Church. He does not take the honour to himself; he is sent; he comes to you bearing in his hands the commission of the Vicar of Christ: fulfilling God’s word:”How shall they hear without a preacher, and how shall they preach unless they be sent?” That is the great strength of our position as Catholics. We are not isolated communities but we all live by the one divine life of the Church herself. Individuals pass away; bishops and priests do their work for their allotted span of life, but the Catholic Church can never fail, and in that We are not isolated communities, raised above the vicissitudes although she is composed of mortal men and carries on her mission in the conditions of human society, she is of this world, and will last to the end of time. If then you will bear with me for a little while, I shall say something about the indefectibility, the unfailing life of the Catholic Church, and the means which her Divine Founder has provided for its maintenance. I suppose no one will question the fact that, as an organisation, the Catholic Church at the present moment is the greatest society of men that exists in the world. There is nothing to come near her, nothing to compare with her. Whether you regard the number of her members, the astonishing unity by which they are held together, the absolute oneness and unquestioned authority of her government, the perfection of her discipline; in everything that goes to give cohesion and strength to a human society, there is no institution, secular or religious, that can approach in grandeur, in all the elements of real greatness to our glorious Catholic Church. She is spread over the world; she transcends all the limitations of time or race or language that mark the fundamental distinctions between peoples. She does not weaken the characteristics of their several nationalities, but by her mysterious power, raises them all to a higher level, in which they find a nobler unity. One life pervades them all and holds them in its extraordinary vitality.

Then the spiritual energy with which the Church is discharging her universal mission is truly marvellous. Her Clergy, in every quarter of the globe, are proclaiming the truths of the Gospel, and administering the sacraments, and working with an unflagging zeal all her agencies for the sanctification of the people. She is continually enlarging her boundaries and gathering new peoples into her fold. In the world and not of the world, she holds herself the debtor of rich and poor alike, and discharges, at all costs, and against all opposition, the divine trust which has been committed to her. To look at her as she is today, without taking into account the unseen forces which we know she wields, but merely as she appears to the world, you would say that she was a young society, strong and vigorous with all the fresh energy of youth, and was setting out in hope and courage on her career. You see no traces of age upon her; she shows no sign of lassitude; her heart is as strong and her courage as high as if it were yesterday she received the divine commission: “Go, teach all nations.” Yet think what a history she has behind her. Nineteen hundred years of labour and suffering and strife such as never fell to the lot of any institution. The hatred of the world, which the Lord Himself predicted, has followed her down the ages, and to this day has never relented. When her foundations were laid, and for hundreds of years afterwards, not a single kingdom of modern Europe was in existence. She came into being while the mighty Roman Empire was in the heyday of its power, and her first experience was to feel for three hundred years the heavy hand of its merciless persecution. Attempts have been made by infidel writers to extenuate the deeds of that Pagan Government, but the evidence is overwhelming of the inhuman cruelty with which the Christians were hunted down. The scenes in Rome itself, that make one’s blood creep, were the standard for the provinces. It was the sport of emperors and their courts and the populace to sit in the amphitheatre and see the Christians torn to pieces by wild beasts, in the arena. That was the death by which the venerable St. lgnatius (Bishop of Antioch) won his crown, praying that the lions might grind him between their teeth and make him the fine flour of Christ. So, too, in Rome, poor little St. Agnes, a child of thirteen years, gave up her life proclaiming herself the spouse of Him Whom the angels adored. Old and young alike were struck down, but in vain.

Christians sprang up in numbers as if from the ground, and the great saying of Tertullian was verified “that the blood of martyrs was the seed of Christians.” And all the time, these Christians never turned on their oppressors, but prayed for them, and their revenge was to draw them into the knowledge and service of their Master. It was an astounding victory, the full splendour of which shone out when the Emperor Constantine, the ruler of the world, gave peace to the Church, and himself sought from Celestine, Bishop of Rome, admission to the fold. Later again the unconquerable strength of the

Church of God was seen in her struggle for centuries with the barbarians. One after another these wild races in their millions swarmed over Europe, and swept everything before their irresistible onset. They were like the locusts, innumerable, and their progress was marked by universal ruin. They broke the resistance of the representatives, of the decaying Empire of Rome, and conquered their way through Germany and Belgium and France and far into Spain and Italy; and civilisation itself seemed in danger of perishing. There was no physical force capable of withstanding the wild rush of these invaders. But what the legions of Rome could not do, the Gospel of Christ in the hands of His Church did triumphantly: she subdued them, and civilised them, and taught these wild children of nature to know the Child of Mary, and to consecrate their wild energies to the service of the Crucified. It is all most wonderful, almost like a fairy tale,-the story of the triumph of the truth of God. The Church of Christ, weak and powerless in the weapons of this world, withstood these barbarian hordes and issued from the contest, fresher, and stronger than ever, and led them, in her triumphant progress, the captives of her Lord. But physical violence, bad as it has often been, is the least of the dangers that beset the Church. It, touches her only on the outside, but cannot reach the vital principle. It is so ordinarily with human societies. Disintegration comes from within; they go to pieces when the bond of union is weakened, and dissensions rise amongst their members. So the supreme trial of the Church has been to overcome the forces of disruption which her own children set in motion. Heresy has been her worst enemy; it attacks the very principle of her life, which is the faith of God. And all through the centuries she has had to put forth all strength to guard that sacred deposit. She has had to deal with errors against faith which, in the subtlety with which they were urged, the learning and authority of their authors, the support which they receive from secular powers, would have broken up and destroyed any merely human organisation.

We have but an imperfect idea of the strength of some of the early heresies. The Arians at one time by deceit, by intrigue with the civil power, seemed to have defeated the Church, so that St. Jerome in sadness complained: “The whole world groaned at finding itself Arian.” So, too, the powerful body of the Nestorians, led by the patriarch of

Constantinople, and supported by numbers of bishops, swept over Asia Minor, and, for the time, seemed irresistible. Other heresies, not less formidable, sprang up at intervals with much vigour and spread rapidly; but in the end the Church survived them all. By a divine instinct she detected their errors, and inexorably rejected them, and resumed her own way, more healthy and vigorous for cutting off these dead branches.

Nearer to our own time, and with disastrous consequences which are felt at this very moment, was the attack which began in Germany in the sixteenth century against the faith of the Church. Luther and Calvin led the revolt, and were only too successful in their evil enterprise. Kingdom after kingdom fell away, until people began to discuss the question how far the defections might go consistently with the Church’s Catholicity. But here again the promises of Christ were fulfilled, and the divine life of His Spouse asserted itself. By her own innate health, the Church threw off the false doctrines as a foreign body, and drove out of the fold those who would lay profane hands upon the Ark of God. It was a great and solemn crisis; strong powers of evil combined against the Church of God; the restless and rebellious minds of men, the ambition and corruption of temporal rulers, the impatience of human passions under the restraint of the Gospel, made a combination that was almost overwhelming in its strength, but again, as always, the Church emerged from the trial as if she renewed her life in the very dangers of the contest. The loss of so many members was deplorable, but the faith should be saved at any cost. And see the result. For the last three hundred years the Church has gone on from victory to victory, displaying in every quarter of the world a fuller and more beneficent energy; multiplying her religious communities, and all her other spiritual agencies, fulfilling her great mission with an even more ample and striking success.

What is the explanation of this unfailing vitality, which runs counter to all the laws of human institutions, that cannot be destroyed by violence, nor betrayed by deceit: that even time itself, to which everything in this world succumbs, cannot wear out or weaken? After nineteen hundred years, during which, in one form or another, the Church has been in conflict with the world, and pursued with an unflagging hatred, how is it that she is today fresh with the beauty and the young vigour in which she came from her Founder’s hands, standing four square against all the forces of evil, the one solid structure in a world of change? You know the answer: she is the work of God who has given to her in the supreme ruler whom He has placed in His own stead, theprinciple of her cohesion and her stability. “And I say to thee,” said Christ, that thou art Peter, and upon this rock I will build My Church, and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it.” That is the pledge of the Church’s endurance, and against it the powers of evil have beaten in vain. The tremendous strength of the Roman Empire, the wild hordes of the barbarians, the deceits of error, the corruption of the world, and time itself, have never prevailed against her because she was built upon the rock.”And the rains fell, and the floods came, and the winds blew, and they beat upon that house and it fell not, for it was founded upon a rock.”

And all through the history of the Church you see the working of that divine dispensation. The See of Peter has withstood all trials, and has sustained the whole Church. Other Sees, at one time bright glories of the Catholic Church, have fallen away and been Lost. Rome stands unshaken in her unfailing strength. Alexandria with which forever is associated the splendour of the dauntless Athanasius, “Athanasius contramundum”:”Athanasius, against the world”;

Antioch, the great school of Christian learning; Constantinople, which rang with the golden eloquence of Chrysostom: the great churches of Africa, where Cyprian of Carthage, and the mighty Augustine taught, have disappeared long ago but the mother of them all, the living centre on which the forces that have borne them down, have beaten with a concentrated fury, has preserved her immortal life. In one unbroken succession the line of Roman Pontiffs goes back from Benedict

XV. to Peter, and is itself the witness to the Divine Power that has maintained it. There is no need to retell the story of the

Popes during the persecutions in which the Pagan Empire of Rome put forth its strength to crush the religion of the

Galilean. One after another they won the martyr’s crown; when one fell, another took his place. With superhuman intrepidity, they entered on the duties of their sacred office, celebrated Holy Mass on the tombs of their predecessors, confirmed and encouraged the survivors of the persecution, and when their own turn came, stepped with a light heart from the Papal Throne to the scaffold, rejoicing because they were deemed worthy to suffer for the name of Christ. And through all the ages, since these great days the Popes have led the Church in dangers and given her strength against all attacks. At times you see great potentates who can bend their fellowmen to their will, powerless in presence of some old man who sits in the Chair of Peter. In defence of the rights of the Church, Gregory VII., the great Hildebrand, brought the Emperor Henry IV. on his knees to Canossa, just as in our times his successor, Leo XIII., led the German

Catholics to victory against Bismarck, “the man of blood and iron,” and established them in the position of independence which they hold today. So, too, Pius X. confirmed his brethren, the Bishops of France, and inspired them with the spirit of sacrifice which surrendered to an infidel and persecuting government the whole material wealth of their Church rather than compromise his spiritual liberty.

But in nothing does the glory of the Roman Pontiffs stand out more luminously than in their fidelity as guardians of the faith and teachers of the Church. The doctrine of Rome has been the standard of the faith. Who held her was within the fold: who separated from her cut themselves off from the Church of God. It was the manifest fulfilment of the word in which our Lord Himself guaranteed the unfailing faith of the Head of His Church. And the Lord said:”Simon, Simon, behold Satan hath desired to have ye, that He might sift ye as wheat; but I have prayed for thee, that thy faith fail not, and thou being once converted, confirm thy brethren” (Luke xxii.,32).

Far away back in the fourth and fifth centuries of our era, it is most impressive to see that prayer of Christ realising itself in the great part which the Bishops of Rome took in the preservation of the faith In all the great councils they presided through their legates; they propounded the doctrine of the Church as it had come down from Peter and Paul in the living tradition of Rome. And that place of authority was given to them, not as a mere courtesy or mark of inalienable right. In the Council of Ephesus this doctrine of the Primacy of jurisdiction of the Bishops of Rome was proclaimed in words of great force and solemnity by one of the Papal Legates: “It has been known at all times that the holy and most blessed Peter, the Prince and Head of’ the Apostles, the Pillar of the Faith, the foundation stone of the Catholic Church, received from Our Lord Jesus Christ, the Saviour and the Redeemer of the human race, the keys of the, kingdom, and the power of binding and loosing from sin was given to him, and he, down to the present day, lives in his successors.” That is our faith without the change of a word. That is the reason of the love and reverence with which we look to Rome. Peter lives in his successors, and his divine commission is the sanction of their authority. You see an instance of it in the strong action by which Pope Pius X. saved the Church from the dangers of modernism. In this country we have known little of that pernicious heresy or, as the Pope styled it, collection of heresies, on the continent of Europe it was spreading and undermining the very foundations of the faith. In one great encyclical letter the Pope went to the heart of the issues involved and demonstrated the fatal opposition of the new errors to the doctrine of the Church. In its splendid exposition of Catholic faith, the encyclical “Pascendi” reminds one of the tome of Saint Leo which was read in the Council of Chalcedon. There the Bishops, in their exultation, cried aloud: “Peter has spoken through the voice of Leo.” We may say the same; Peter has spoken through the voice of Pius as he will speak to the end of time through his successors in the See of Rome.

These supernatural powers make the Catholic Church always something of a wonder and a mystery to the unbelieving world. In her history she has withstood so many enemies, has come triumphantly out of so many dangers, that, humanly speaking, seemed hopeless, that they look upon her with a certain amount of awe which easily passes into distrust, and hostility. Anyway, she is the only Church which they ever think it worth while to persecute. But those who read human history in the spirit of faith, see in the Catholic Church much more than a wonder of the world. As they follow her in her unbroken greatness from age to age, they say: “The finger of God is here.” There is something more than human in this institution. Popes and bishops and the other members of the Catholic Church, after all, are only men. Where do they get the superhuman power that nothing can defeat? But for us who can look at our Holy Church from within, and know the sacred forces that animate her, there is more to be seen than the perfection of her immense organisation. She is like a noble tree firmly rooted, standing in the grandeur of its symmetry and clothed in the rich beauty of its foliage while the whole of that array is but the expression of the vital force that sends its influence from the root to the uppermost branch. It is so with our Holy Church. She is great and beautiful to look at, but she is divine in the spiritual life which she sends through her members. That is the real wonder of her indefectibility. She has lasted throughout all the ages, not by a mere passive existence, but with a teeming life of holiness which has made her today, after all the long centuries of her career, the same living body that she has been from the first. In each diocese the threads of discipline are gathered into the hands of the bishop, and through him run up to the universal centre Seat of the Fisherman, and under it all there is circulating, as the sap in a tree, as the blood in our bodies, the full flow of God’s holy grace. Never, I believe, since the Apostles times, did the people lead holier lives. There are exceptions: there will always be. But in the vast, majority of the members of the

Church there is a great holiness, a sense of the supernatural, an apprehension of the unseen, a grasp of the things to be hoped for, that God alone could produce in a world like this. “I have come,” said Christ, that they may have life and have it more abundantly,” and that blessed word is being realised this moment in millions upon millions of humble souls who are leading the true life of faith. Many causes have been at work to produce these results. The sources of Grace by which

God has surrounded us in His Church are countless, and for every one of them we have to bless and thank Him; but, I think we may attribute to two devotions which in our time have received a great extension and intensification, much of the spiritual fervour which is now seen amongst us: the worship of Our Divine Lord Himself in the adorable Sacrament of the

Eucharist and then the filial piety of the whole Church towards our Blessed Mother Mary. I mention these two devotions, first, because of their intrinsic sanctity and spirituality, and then as illustrating in a striking way the living power of the authority which God has, established for the maintenance of his Church

There is no need to tell you who have been our leaders and teachers in this higher way. Pius X. will live for ever in the grateful memory of the faithful for all that he has done for the worship of our Divine Lord in the sacrament of His Love.

By one magisterial stroke of his pen he swept away the barriers which a mistaken reverence had raised between the people and their Lord, and opened up broadly, with the large charity of the Sacred Heart Itself, for all of us-the old in our needs, the young in their innocence,-the approach to the Living Bread which came down from Heaven.

In the same spirit of adoration for the presence of our God did Pius X. also encourage and bless our great Eucharistic

Congresses, which have astonished the world by their magnificence and their demonstration of the power of our Catholic faith. It has been the same from the beginning. Since the Church received this greatest of her treasures, the centre of our religion, out of the hand of Christ Himself on the night before He suffered, she has guarded it as the Living Bread for the sanctification of her children. The Holy Mass itself, with its prayers, and ceremonies, comes down to us from the earliest times as the grand and solemn liturgy in which the Popes have shrined the Holy Sacrifice. And today, as ever, they gather the people around the altar to offer to God the tribute of their adoration and thanks, and to receive Him, under a sacramental form, as the food of their souls.

So it was another Pius, the saintly Pius IX., who added the last gem to the crown of Our Lady by the definition of her

Immaculate Conception; and since that event everyone sees that the devotion of the faithful to the Mother of God has grown in depth and tenderness and in its influence on their lives. In this also the Pope was like the householder who produces from his store things old and new. Our Mother Mary has ever lived in the hearts of the faithful as a holy and purifying influence. In the catacombs in Rome there is a beautiful painting which goes back probably to the first century of our era; it represents the Virgin Mother with the Divine Child in her arms, such as you may see it any day in our churches, and it tells us more eloquently than words that the divine motherhood touched the hearts and imaginations of the first Christians with the same feelings that we experience now. And the lovely invocation that we say each day, “Holy

Mary, Mother of God,” comes down to us for fifteen hundred years from the Council of Ephesus as the cry of joy that went up from the hearts of the people when the Bishops, under the presidency of St. Cyril, the representative of the pope, defined as the doctrine of the Church that in Christ our Lord there was but one Person, the Second Person of the Adorable

Trinity, and that Mary was His Mother.

It is fully in the spirit of that tradition that the Popes in Our time have turned the minds of the faithful, in all the trials of the Church, to the intercession of the Virgin Mary. Through her prayers, and by the blessing of her Divine Son in the

Holy Eucharist, they have deepened the faith of the people, quickened their piety, sanctified their lives, and thus reinvigorated the spiritual life which, as the soul in the body, is the force that gives the Church her cohesion and her strength.

Between the two Piuses came the great Leo XIII. whose name must not be omitted when we speak of those who strengthened the Church of God. In the elevation of his intellect, his sure grasp of principle, his instinctive sense of the needs of his time, Leo XIII. stands out in the long line of Popes like one of the Fathers of the Church. He confirmed his brethren. In his grand encyclical letters he dealt with every phase of the spiritual life, sent the Catholic schools back to the true sources of philosophy; dedicated the homes of the people to the Holy Family; taught governments and their subjects, employers and employed, rich and poor, their mutual rights and obligations; and the sound of these pronouncements was heard with respect outside the limits of our Holy Church.

Who on earth can speak with the power of these Popes? Who like them can shape the views and opinions and move the hearts of hundreds of millions of people by their words? They are the true, teachers of the world; for them, in Peter,

Christ’s prayer has been heard; their faith fails not, and they in turn confirm their brethren. And at the present hour, when, in the terrible war that is raging, men slaughter one another, and hate one another with a savagery that is revolting in professing Christians, one figure, that of the Pope, rises in the midst of the storm, like Christ upon the waters, and pleads for peace, appealing to them all for the sake of the Master Whom they profess to follow, to remember that they are brothers, the children of their Father Who is in Heaven. Ah! Well it would be for the world if they would heed that word of the Vicar of Christ; well would it be if the warring nations had not broken away from the unity of the faith, and in their religion, had a common ground on which to meet and here, again, we see, almost in a dramatic way, the power of Rome’s attraction. Around the throne of Benedict XV. there gathered a few weeks ago a number of Cardinals, amongst whom were Cardinal Mercier, the Patriot Primate of Belgium; Cardinal von Hartmann, of Germany; Cardinal Bourne of

England; and Cardinal Bekin of France. Each of them, I dare say, is as enthusiastic for the cause of his own country as any soldier in the trenches, but all of them are drawn together in the higher and holier union which binds them to the Chair of

Peter.

Your Bishop, who is consecrated today, is the evidence and the symbol of your place in that union with Rome. He is sent to you as the pledge of the solicitude of our Holy Father the Pope for the members of his flock in this diocese, and I have no doubt that through his administration the ties of love and reverence and filial obedience that have bound You, as they bind all Catholics in Ireland to the Chair of Peter, will be drawn, if possible more closely and firmly than ever. For Dr. Hackett himself I fear that it is a change which he must contemplate with anxiety. It is no small sacrifice to exchange the peace and the happiness and security of his life in religion for the cares and responsibilities of the Bishop’s office. But it is not his own choice. The burden has been laid upon him by the Vicar of Christ, and he need have no fear but that in accepting it in obedience to that call he will receive grace and strength to bear it worthily. In passing from his convent to the Episcopal chair Dr. Hackett is following the footsteps of the great and illustrious founder of the Congregation of the Most Holy Redeemer. St. Alphonsus Liguori, in spite of his earnest appeals, was made Bishop of St. Agatha of the Goths, and in that position lived a life of extraordinary sanctity and apostolic zeal which is one of the glories of the Catholic Church and an inspiration for all bishops. He was a man of the very highest intellect and of great leaning, and has been declared a Doctor of the Church. But amongst the profoundest lessons that he has taught us, and has been the means of impressing on the minds of the faithful, are the devotion of true faith to the Divine Presence in the Adorable Eucharist, and then a triumphant love for the Glories of Mary.

Surely it is not without a special providence that Dr. Hackett has been trained for many years in the school of St.

Alphonsus, and has been breathing among the members of the grand Congregation of the Most Holy Redeemer the spirit of their Founder, and has learned and felt in his missionary labours the power of Mary’s intercession and the divine greatness of God’s gift of love in the Adorable Eucharist. These will now stand him in good stead. Our Blessed Mother will intercede for him, and the glorious St. Joseph, on whose feast he has the happiness to be consecrated, will join his prayers to those of his spotless spouse and plead for him, his clergy, and his people, that they may be one in heart and, soul in the unity of faith and the bond of peace The prayers of Mary and Joseph and the blessing of the Divine Child will, we hope and pray, rest from this hour on your Bishop and make him a true shepherd of the flock, expending himself for their sakes, and doing, while he lives, great work in the ministry for the edification of the Body of Christ. Amen.

Nihil Obstat:

Jacobus Browne,

Censor Deputatus. Imprimi Potest:

@ Gulielmus,

Episcopus Fernensis, 18/5/1935

********

The God In The Cave

G. K. CHESTERTON

INDEX

TRADITIONS in art and literature and popular fable have quite sufficiently attested, as has been said, this particular paradox of the divine being in the cradle. Perhaps they have not so clearly emphasised the significance of the divine being in the cave. Curiously enough, indeed, tradition has not very clearly emphasised the cave. It is a familiar fact that the Bethlehem scene has been represented in every possible setting of time and country, of landscape and architecture; and it is a wholly happy and admirable fact that men have conceived it as quite different according to their different individual traditions and tastes. But while all have realised that it was a stable, not so many have realised that it was a cave. Some critics have even been so silly as to suppose that there was some contradiction between the stable and the cave; in which case they cannot know much about caves or stables in Palestine. As they see differences that are not there it is needless to add that they do not see differences that are there. When a well-known critic says, for instance, that Christ being born in a rocky cavern is like Mithras having sprung alive out of a rock, it sounds like a parody upon comparative religion. There is such a thing as the point of a story, even if it is a story in the sense of a lie. And the notion of a hero appearing, like Pallas from the brain of Zeus, mature and without a mother, is obviously the very opposite of the idea of a god being born like an ordinary baby and entirely dependent on a mother. Whichever ideal we might prefer, we should surely see that they are contrary ideals. It is as stupid to connect them because they both contain a substance called stone as to identify the punishment of the Deluge with the baptism in the Jordan because they both contain a substance called water. Whether as a myth or a mystery, Christ was obviously conceived as born in a hole in the rocks primarily because it marked the position of one outcast and homeless. . . .

It would be vain to attempt to say anything adequate, or anything new, about the change which this conception of a deity born like an outcast or even an outlaw had upon the whole conception of law and its duties to the poor and outcast. It is profoundly true to say that after that moment there could be no slaves. There could be and were people bearing that legal title, until the Church was strong enough to weed them out, but there could be no more of the pagan repose in the mere advantage to the state of keeping it a servile state. Individuals became important, in a sense in which no instruments can be important. A man could not be a means to an end, at any rate to any other man’s end. All this popular and fraternal element in the story has been rightly attached by tradition to the episode of the Shepherds, who found themselves talking face to face with the princes of heaven. But there is another aspect of the popular element as represented by the shepherds which has not perhaps been so fully developed; and which is more directly relevant here.

Men of the people, like the shepherds, men of the popular tradition, had everywhere been the makers of the mythologies. It was they who had felt most directly, with least check or chill from philosophy or the corrupt cults of civilisation, the need we have already considered; the images that were adventures of the imagination; the mythology that was a sort of search; the tempting and tantalising hints of something half-human in nature; the dumb significance of seasons and special places. They had best understood that the soul of a landscape is a story, and the soul of a story is a personality. But rationalism had already begun to rot away these really irrational though imaginative treasures of the peasant; even as a systematic slavery had eaten the peasant out of house and home. Upon all such peasantries everywhere there was descending a dusk and twilight of disappointment, in the hour when these few men discovered what they sought. Everywhere else Arcadia was fading from the forest. Pan was dead and the shepherds were scattered like sheep. And though no man knew it, the hour was near which was to end and to fulfil all things; and, though no man heard it, there was one far-off cry in an unknown tongue upon the heaving wilderness of the mountains. The shepherds had found their Shepherd.

And the thing they found was of a kind with the things they sought. The populace had been wrong in many things; but they had not been wrong in believing that holy things could have a habitation and that divinity need not disdain the limits of time and space. And the barbarian who conceived the crudest fancy about the sun being stolen and hidden in a box, or the wildest myth about the god being rescued and his enemy deceived with a stone, was nearer to the secret of the cave and knew more about the crisis of the world, than all those in the circle of cities round the Mediterranean who had become content with cold abstractions or cosmopolitan generalisations; than all those who were spinning thinner and thinner threads of thought out of the transcendentalism of Plato or the orientalism of Pythagoras. The place that the shepherds found was not an academy or an abstract republic; it was not a place of myths allegorised or dissected or explained or explained away. It was a place of dreams come true. Since that hour no mythologies have been made in the world. Mythology is a search. . . .

The philosophers had also heard. It is still a strange story, though an old one, how they came out of orient lands, crowned with the majesty of kings and clothed with something of the mystery of magicians. That truth that is tradition has wisely remembered them almost as unknown quantities, as mysterious as their mysterious and melodious names; Melchior, Caspar, Balthazar. But there came with them all that world of wisdom that had watched the stars in Chaldea and the sun in Persia; and we shall not be wrong if we see in them the same curiosity that moves all the sages. They would stand for the same human ideal if their names had really been Confucius or Pythagoras or Plato. They were those who sought not tales but the truth of things; and since their thirst for truth was itself a thirst for God, they also have had their reward. But even in order to understand that reward, we must understand that for philosophy as much as mythology, that reward was the completion of the incomplete.

Such learned men would doubtless have come, as these learned men did come, to find themselves confirmed in much that was true in their own traditions and right in their own reasoning. Confucius would have found anew foundation for the family in the very reversal of the Holy Family; Buddha would have looked upon a new renunciation, of stars rather than jewels and divinity than royalty. These learned men would still have the right to say, or rather a new right to say, that there was truth in their old teaching. But after all these learned men would have come to learn. They would have come to complete their conceptions with something they had not yet conceived; even to balance their imperfect universe with something they might once have contradicted. Buddha would have come from his impersonal paradise to worship a person. Confucius would have come from his temples of ancestor-worship to worship a child. . . .

The Magi, who stand for mysticism and philosophy, are truly conceived as seeking something new and even as finding something unexpected. That tense sense of crisis which still tingles in the Christmas story and even in every Christmas celebration, accentuates the idea of a search and a discovery. For the other mystical figures in the miracle play; for the angel and the mother, the shepherds and the soldiers of Herod, there may be aspects both simpler and more supernatural, more elemental or more emotional. But the Wise Men must be seeking wisdom; and for them there must be a light also in the intellect. And this is the light; that the Catholic creed is catholic and that nothing else is catholic. The philosophy of the Church is universal. The philosophy of the philosophers was not universal. Had Plato and Pythagoras and Aristotle stood for an instant in the light that came out of that little cave, they would have known that their own light was not universal. It is far from certain, indeed, that they did not know it already. Philosophy also, like mythology, had very much the air of a search. It is the realisation of this truth that gives its traditional majesty and mystery to the figures of the Three Kings; the discovery that religion is broader than philosophy and that this is the broadest of religions, contained within this narrow space. . . .

We might well be content to say that mythology had come with the shepherds and philosophy with the philosophers; and that it only remained for them to combine in the recognition of religion. But there was a third element that must not be ignored and one which that religion for ever refuses to ignore, in any revel or reconciliation. There was present in the primary scenes of the drama that Enemy that had rotted the legend with lust and frozen the theories into atheism, but which answered the direct challenge with something of that more direct method which we have seen in the conscious cult of the demons. In the description of that demon-worship, of the devouring detestation of innocence shown in the works of its witchcraft and the most inhuman of its human sacrifice, I have said less of its indirect and secret penetration of the saner paganism; the soaking of mythological imagination with sex; the rise of imperial pride into insanity. But both the indirect and the direct influence make themselves felt in the drama of Bethlehem. A ruler under the Roman suzerainty, probably equipped and surrounded with the Roman ornament and order though himself of eastern blood, seems in that hour to have felt stirring within him the spirit of strange things. We all know the story of how Herod, alarmed at some rumour of a mysterious rival, remembered the wild gesture of the capricious despots of Asia and ordered a massacre of suspects of the new generation of the populace. Everyone knows the story; but not everyone has perhaps noted its place in the story of the strange religions of men. Not everybody has seen the significance even of its very contrast with the Corinthian columns and Roman pavement of that conquered and superficially civilised world. Only, as the purpose in his dark spirit began to show and shine in the eyes of the Idumean, a seer might perhaps have seen something like a great grey ghost that looked over his shoulder; have seen behind him filling the dome of night and hovering for the last time over history, that vast and fearful fact that was Moloch of the Carthaginians; awaiting his last tribute from a ruler of the races of Shem. The demons, in that first festival of Christmas, feasted also in their own fashion.

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The Gospels As Books of History

BY REV. C. C. O’CONNOR

INDEX

1. Name.”Gospel” comes from Anglo-Saxon “godspell” meaning “good tidings. . . . . good news,” “godspell” is a translation of Greek euaggelion. Greek was the language chiefly spoken by the early Christians (Pope St Victor 1, 189–198, was the first to write in Latin); that is why the Gospels (except the Gospel of St Matthew), as well as the rest of the books of the New Testament, were written in Greek. St Matthew’s Gospel was written in Aramaic-like Hebrew; it was the language generally spoken in Palestine at the time; it was the language Our Lord spoke. But St Matthew’s Gospel was shortly afterwards translated into Greek. It is this Greek translation which is in the New Testament; and it is from this Greek translation that the quotations from St Matthew’s Gospel, made by early ecclesiastical writers whose works have come down to us, are taken. The word euaggelion originally meant any “good tidings,” but in the course of time it came to signify certain “good tidings”-those namely which the Roman Emperors were supposed to have brought to mankind. Thus, an inscription of about the year 9 B.C.-found towards the end of the 19th century during excavations at the ancient city of Priene (modern Samsun) in Asia Minor-commemorating the birth of the Emperor Augustus, says that his birth was the beginning of “good tidings” for the whole world. The early Christians naturally regarded the birth of Our Lord as in a very special way “good tidings” for the human race; and they adopted the word euaggelion (in English “gospel”) to signify the “good tidings of salvation” brought by Jesus Christ. Thus, what Our Lord and His Apostles preached was referred to briefly as the “gospel”; and when that “gospel” was put into four books by SS Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John, these books came themselves to be known as “gospels.” St Justin, a pagan philosopher who became a Christian about 130, and died for the faith about 165, is the earliest writer known to us who used the word “gospel” to signify both the teaching of Our Lord, and the books in which that teaching is contained. St Irenaeus, who died Bishop of Lyons in 202, constantly uses the word in these two meanings; and this two-fold meaning has been attached to the word “gospel” ever since.

2. Historical Value of the Gospels.The Gospels can be looked at from two points of view: (1) as inspired books; (2) merely as books of history. We know that they are inspired-that is, that SS Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John were inspired by God to write them, and were so helped by Him-though each of these saints preserved his individuality, and had to take as much trouble to write as if he was not inspired at all-that God is really the Author of the Gospels (Council of Trent, Session IV). In this pamphlet, however, we are not looking at the Gospels as inspired books; we are taking them as if they were merely books of history-as if they were not inspired—and the question we have to answer is this: Are they reliable books of history? We will apply the same test to them as we would to any other books of history in the world. How can we tell whether a book of history is trustworthy or not? Here is a “History of the Reign of King Edward VII,” let us suppose. How can we be sure that it is true and reliable? We can be sure of it if we can be sure of these three things: (1) that the author was a well-informed and honest writer-one who was in a position to know what he was writing about; (2) that he gave the facts as they really occurred; and (3) that the book has come down to us without any substantial alteration. So long as these three conditions are fulfilled it makes no difference how old the book may be; some of the most reliable books of history in the world are very old-much older than the Gospels. Thus, the authoritative account of the great Persian invasion of Greece is that by Herodotus, who died about the year 425 B.C., and the best history of the Peloponnesian War is that by Thucydides, who died about 401 B.C. Nor would it make any difference if our copies of that old book were only a translation, so long as the translation was a good one and faithfully expressed the sense of the original.

Historical facts do not change with length of years or by being told in a different language -it will be always true, for instance, that a great European War began in 1914 and ended in 1918. No matter what changes may come over the world, that fact will never change; and though we can imagine a future before the world so long that the English language may die out, the historians of that very distant future, writing, perhaps, in an as yet unknown tongue, will still record the unchangeable fact that a European War began in 1914 and ended in 1918. We shall see that these three conditions are fulfilled by the Gospels, considered simply as books of history-the men who wrote the Gospels were well-informed and honest writers; they could not possibly have been mistaken or deceived as to the facts of Our Lord’s life and teaching; their aim was to tell the truth and nothing but the truth-they had no wish to deceive anyone; indeed, if they wrote anything that was untrue, their error would have been speedily shown up, for the vast majority of the people of the time were deadly opposed to Christianity and only too anxious to discover any flaws in the Gospels; and, finally, the Gospels have come down to us substantially the same as they were written by SS Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John. Considered simply and solely as books of history, therefore, the Gospels are absolutely true and reliable.

3. Who Wrote the Gospels?The Gospels are headed “The Holy Gospel of Jesus Christ, according to St Matthew . . . according to St Mark . . . according to St Luke . . . according to St John.” You notice that it is said: the Gospel of Jesus Christ, according to, etc., for there is but one gospel (euaggelion, “good tidings”)-that of Jesus Christ-but that one gospel has come down in four books called “Gospels” written by these four Saints (or, as they are generally

* From the “Simple Course of Catholic Teaching” in the Irish Catholic. called, Evangelists-from Greek euaggelistes, originally a “bringer of good tidings,” later “ a writer of the gospel”). That they were the writers can be easily proved. Before the end of the 2nd century everyone acknowledged SS.

Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John as the authors. Thus (to mention only a very few) St Irenaeus in his Against Heresies, written about A.D. 180, says that “Matthew published his Gospel among the Hebrews in their own language, when Peter and Paul were preaching the glad tidings in Rome and founding the Church there. After their death Mark, the disciple and interpreter of Peter, wrote what had been preached by Peter. Luke, too, companion of Paul, recorded in a book the Gospel preached by Paul. Later on, John the disciple of the Lord, who had reclined on His breast, published his Gospel while living at Ephesus in Asia.” St Irenaeus’s words are of exceptional weight in the matter, because he had as master in his younger days St Polycarp (69–155), who had been a disciple of St John, author of the Fourth Gospel. It is impossible that he could have made any mistake as to the writers of the Gospels. Furthermore he had lived both in the East and the West-his youth was passed in Asia Minor where he was born, he spent some time in Italy, and died Bishop of Lyons, France. In these widely-distant places there was but one view regarding the writers of the Gospels-namely, that SS Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John were the authors.

The Muratorian Canon (or Fragment-first part missing; is in the Ambrosian Library at Milan) drawn up about A.D. 170; Tatian’s Diatessayon (a “Harmony of the Four Gospels”) composed about same year; the Titles (“according to Matthew . . . Mark . . . Luke . . . John”) prefixed to the Gospels, probably between 100 and 150; St Polycarp (wrote about 112–118) ; St Ignatius (wrote about 107)-all these (and there are many more) bear witness to the fact that SS Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John were the authors of the Gospels. These writers were not, of course, the first to believe that SS Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John wrote the Gospels-they were but recording a belief which had come down from the first century. Now no mistake could possibly have been made in the matter in the first century, for there were many persons living at that time who had personally known the Apostles-who had, as it were, grown up with the Church, and who could not make any mistake about the authors of the Gospels. St John, the “beloved Disciple,” and who was the author of the Fourth Gospel, was himself alive, and if it was wrong to attribute the Gospels to SS Matthew, Mark, Luke, and himself, he would certainly have said so. Well, they were always attributed to these four Saints, and never to anyone else. We may take it as certain, therefore, that SS Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John wrote the Gospels.

4. Well-informed and Reliable Writers.That these Saints were well-informed and reliable writers, and that we can absolutely accept what they tell us, is beyond any manner of doubt. For who were they?

Two of them, the writers of the First and Fourth Gospels, were Apostles of Our Lord. They were with Him throughout His entire public life, they saw the miracles He performed, and they heard from His own lips the doctrines He taught. There could be no possibility of their being mistaken as to what they saw and heard. Further, He used to explain difficult points to them in private, and He did this because they were to carry on His work after His death. (cf. St Matthew xiii. 36; St Mark iv. 34.)

So far as the First and Fourth Gospels are concerned, therefore, it is plain that those who wrote them were well-informed and reliable. A moment’s reflection will show us that the same is true of the other Gospels. The Second Gospel is by St Mark. Who was St Mark? He was the disciple and companion-nowadays we would call him “secretary”-of St Peter, the Chief of the Apostles. St Jerome-perhaps the greatest biblical scholar that ever lived- tells us that “Mark, the disciple and interpreter of Peter, wrote at the petition of the brethren in Rome a brief Gospel, according to what he had heard Peter preaching. And when Peter heard of this, he approved it, and of his own authority ordered it to be read in the Churches, as Clement in the Sixth Book of his Outlines, and Papias the Bishop of Hierapolis tell us.” St Clement (Pope about 90–97) and Papias (lived about 60–135) were “Apostolic Fathers”-that is, personally knew one or more of the Apostles or their disciples. Papias states that “Mark, having been Peter’s interpreter, wrote accurately all that he remembered. . . . He took heed to one point only-to omit none of the facts that he had heard, and to state nothing falsely.” Obviously, then, the writer of the Second Gospel was well-informed and reliable. The Third Gospel is by St Luke. Who was St Luke? The disciple and companion-”secretary”-of St Paul. St Paul was miraculously converted on his way to Damascus by Our Lord Himself, who taught him what to preach (Galatians i. 12); about A.D. 37 he visited the Apostles SS Peter and James, and about 50 he met all the Apostles. Clearly, he knew the facts about Our Lord. St Luke was taught by St Paul-he was with him for years-and could not, therefore, be mistaken in what he states in his Gospel. It is beyond doubt, therefore, that SS Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John were well-informed and reliable writers; consequently we can unhesitatingly believe what is stated in the Gospels.

5. Could Not Have Been Deceived.They could not have been mistaken or deceived about Our Lord. There are certain things which even the dullest and most ignorant of men could not be deceived about. No one, for example, could be mistaken about such things as a dead person being restored to life, or a person born blind seeing, or a deaf and dumb person hearing and speaking. But these very things the Apostles saw and related. Nor could they have been deceived as to the reality of Our Lord’s resurrection from the dead, for they saw Him after His resurrection not merely once, but several times; not for a brief second, but for such periods of time as to exclude all possibility of deception or doubt, for they conversed with Him, received instruction from Him, partook of food with Him. The writers of the Gospels, then, could not possibly have been mistaken or deceived about the facts of Our Lord’s life and teaching. They could not have been in a better position to know what they were writing about.

6. Did Not Wish to Deceive.In writing the Gospels they certainly had no wish to deceive anyone; their one aim was to state the truth, and nothing but the truth. Why should they wish to deceive? What had they to gain by stating anything that was untrue? Let us try to look at the facts as they existed in their time. Our Lord had been put to death, and they knew only too well that the same fate would await themselves if they tried to propagate the Christian religion. Their only hope of escaping persecution and death lay in saying nothing about Christ, in simply forgetting all about Him and living as they had lived before they became His followers. They knew that as well as we do. Now, people may be ready to endure persecution for the truth, but no one will do so for a lie. We may be quite sure, therefore, that the writers of the Gospels did not wish to write anything that was untrue. What they wrote, they wrote because it was true; and because it was true they gladly endured bitter persecution from the enemies of Christianity.

7. Could not Deceive.But even supposing that they wrote what was untrue, a moment’s reflection will show us that their mistake could not possibly escape detection. In their day Christianity was derided and hated, and every effort in the power of men was used to stamp it out. Now, suppose there was anything untrue in the Gospels-what would have happened? The untruth would have been turned against the Gospels and against Christianity itself. For instance, it is stated in St Luke’s Gospel that Our Lord raised a widow’s son to life just outside the city of Naim. If that were not true, we may be sure that someone would have pointed it out. St Luke’s Gospel was written only some thirty years after Our Lord’s time; there must surely have been some people, who lived in Naim when Our Lord visited it, who were still living when St Luke’s Gospel was written. But no one denied that a widow’s son was raised from death to life there by Our Lord-it was too plain a truth to be denied. In the same way, if the writers of the Gospels had made any false statement regarding anything else, they would have been shown up by the opponents of Christianity. To sum up, it is certain that the writers of the Gospels were not mistaken or deceived in what they wrote; that they had no intention of deceiving us by writing what was untrue, but intended to state the truth and nothing but the truth; and that they could not possibly have written what was untrue without being found out. It is evident, therefore, that the Gospels are true, and that we may unhesitatingly believe what is stated in them.

8. When Written.When exactly were the Gospels written? They do not state the date themselves, but though no date of publication appears on a book it is generally possible to tell the period when it was written by examining the book itself. The reason is because a writer will naturally speak of things as they existed when he wrote the book, so that if he speaks of, let us say, Pope Pius IX as “the reigning Pontiff,” we know at once that he wrote during the time that Pope Pius IX was Head of the Church. Suppose we come across a “History of Germany” with the title-page which bore the date torn out and lost. Can we tell when it was written? Since the date has been lost the only way we can find out is by reading the book. We do so, and we find that Alsace-Lorraine is described as “a German imperial territory.” Now if we can find out when Alsace-Lorraine was part of the German Empire we can tell when that “History of Germany” must have been written. Alsace-Lorraine was ceded by France to Germany as a result of the Franco-German War of 1870–1871, and the German Empire, as we know it, was also created as a result of that war. Therefore, the “History” cannot have been written before the Franco-German War. Since then, however, there has been another war, and as a consequence further changes in the map of Europe. As a result of the European War of 1914–1918 Alsace-Lorraine has gone back to France, and can no longer be described as “a German imperial territory.” Consequently the “History” must have been written before the European War. Putting these two things together we see that it must have been written between the years 1871 and 1919.

Now there were two outstanding facts in the first century of the Christian era, and if we examine the Gospels in the light of these two facts we shall be able to say approximately when they must have been written. The first of these facts was the destruction of Jerusalem in A.D. 70; the second was the rise, towards the end of that century, of heretical sects denying the divinity of Our Lord. The destruction of Jerusalem was the end of a chapter-indeed, history has nothing to show which produced so profound a change in so short a time, with the possible exception of the Great War, from the effects of which we are still suffering. Jerusalem and the Temple were razed to the ground, and if the figures given by the celebrated Jewish historian, Josephus (he was a commander-in-chief during the war between the Jews and the Romans A.D. 66–70) are correct, eleven hundred thousand Jews succumbed during the siege of Jerusalem, which lasted less than seven months, and ninety-seven thousand were taken prisoners. There was a complete change in the order of things as it had existed up to then, but of this profound change there is not a word in the Gospels. The writers of the Gospels certainly lived in the Holy Land before the year 70, for the Jerusalem and the Jewish religious observances they speak of were those that obtained before 70. They lived before 70; did they write before 70? SS Matthew, Mark, and Luke certainly did. For here is a very remarkable fact. These three writers give Our Lord’s prophecy about the destruction of the Temple and Jerusalem-but they do not say a word about its having taken place. Hence they must have written before 70; for if they wrote after 70 they could have pointed triumphantly to the prophecy and its fulfilment. Just as a person who wrote of Alsace-Lorraine as “a German imperial territory” must have written before 1919, so the first three Gospels which speak of things in the Holy Land as they existed before. the fall of Jerusalem, and which prophesy that fall but say nothing about its having happened, must have been written before the year 70.

Now let us look at the second of these two outstanding facts-the rise, towards the end of the first century A.D., of heretical sects denying the divinity of Our Lord. One of the main aims of St John in writing his Gospel was to refute these heresies; consequently he must have written towards the end of the first century. How long before 70 were the Gospels of SS Matthew, Mark, and Luke written? Well, they were not written before Our Lord’s Ascension, for they record His Ascension. Their date must be placed after the Ascension (about A.D. 30–33), and before the fall of Jerusalem (A.D. 70); and though we cannot say anything for certain, we shall probably not be far out if we say that St Matthew’s Gospel-the Aramaic original text-was written about 50–63, and the Greek translation of that Gospel about 54–66; that St Mark’s Gospel was written about 55–62; St Luke’s about 59–62; and St John’s about 85–97.

9. Gospels Substantially Unchanged.That the Gospels as we have them today are substantially the same as when they were written is a fact recognized by biblical scholars. How they reached it is an interesting story, which we can give but very briefly here. Nowadays we can print any number of copies of a book and be sure that they will all be the same. But what of the days before printing was invented? It came into use only in the 15th century; before that time the only way to get a copy of a book was to write it out by hand, and if you wish to see how easy it is for even careful people to make mistakes when copying anything, you need only write out a few pages from any book yourself. You are pretty certain to find that you will not copy it as accurately as you thought. So it is not surprising to find that in the days before printing was invented and the Gospels were all written out by hand, quite a number of differences- variant readings, they are called-existed between the various copies. When printing came into use, the problem was to get the true text of the Gospels. How did scholars set about finding it? They got as many copies of the Gospels, and of works in which there were quotations from the Gospels, as possible, in order to compare them with one another, and eliminate readings found only in a few copies and, therefore, unlikely to be correct; and they paid particular attention to the ages of the copies, for generally speaking the older the copy the more likely (for a reason which we shall see on the second next page) is it to be correct. Then they put them into three groups-all the Greek ones together, all the translations into other languages together, and all the other writings-works of early Christian writers who quoted the Gospels-together. The Greek ones are known as Gospel “manuscripts.” A “manuscript” literally means a “document written by hand”; but though all those ancient copies of which we are speaking were written by hand, and, therefore, would seem to have a strong claim to be called “manuscripts,” biblical scholars reserve the term “manuscript” for Greek copies of the Gospels made before the invention of printing.

Translations are known as “versions.” The early Christian writers are spoken of as “Fathers.” So we label the three groups: (1) Manuscripts-all in Greek; (2) Versions-in languages other than Greek; and (3) Fathers-ancient Christian writers who quoted the Gospels. Now, what was the idea of putting these documents into these three groups? It was found the best way of discovering the original text of the Gospels. Let us take, for instance, the problem which presented itself to Catholics in the sixteenth century when versions of the New Testament, made by Protestants and with a number of passages wrongly given in order to advance Protestantism, were circulated among the people. The best way to counteract a faulty translation is to publish a correct translation: and this is what was achieved by Catholic scholars at the English College at Rheims in 1582. They took as the basis of their translation the Vulgate version made by St Jerome, and of which we shall have a word to say later.

We saw that in the days before printing a number of differences, or “variant readings,” had got into the copies of the Gospels. By carefully studying the older copies of the Vulgate the translators were enabled to put aside a number of these variant readings as wrong; when it was impossible to decide, from the copies of the Vulgate, which was the right reading, the passage was looked up in the Greek manuscripts, the Versions, and the Fathers, and in this way the correct reading was generally discovered. It was, of course, a slow and laborious process; and when you think of all the hours those patient Catholic scholars of the sixteenth century had to spend trying to find out which of the many different readings was the right one, you may be inclined to blame the persons who made those copies in the days before printing came into use. Well, you won’t blame them if you remember this-if the people who lived before the fifteenth century did not take the trouble to write out the works of literature that existed in their time, we should be without nearly all those books which are called classics today. So that we can never be sufficiently grateful to the Catholic Church for what she has done for the world in this matter, for it was the Catholic Church, through the monks of the Middle Ages, who preserved the ancient Greek and Roman classics, as well as the writings of the great doctors of the Church, like St Augustine and St John Chrysostom, and the book of books, the Bible. As these books were all written out by hand, and since it is practically impossible to copy out a book without making a slip of some kind, it follows that the oftener copies of a given book were made, the more likely were inaccuracies and mistakes to creep in.

Let us suppose, for example, that in the fifth century some industrious monk wrote out a copy of the Iliad of Homer. When he had the work finished we shall suppose he lent it to some other scribe to make another copy of it. We may be quite sure that when the second writer had completed his task some errors had slipped into his copy. Even today we often find what are called printer’s errors in our printed books, which shows that absolute accuracy is hardly to be expected when a person, even a careful person, is writing out a book, or setting it in type, from another copy. Well, the second scribe, in his turn, lends his book to a third copyist, and this third writer makes his copy, not from the text used by the first scribe, which, for simplicity, we shall suppose to be free from mistakes, but from a text which contains the inaccuracies of the second writer. The third writer lends his copy to a fourth, the fourth to a fifth, and so on, each copyist inevitably making mistakes of his own, until, as may be easily imagined, quite a number of inaccuracies get into the copies that are in circulation, say, two hundred years after the industrious monk of the fifth century set himself to copy out the Iliad. However, it will be found that the big majority of the mistakes that have got into the text are of no importance, and no one would dream nowadays of doubting the substantial accuracy of the Iliad we possess in spite of all these variant readings. It is substantially the same as when Homer wrote it, some eleven centuries before the birth of Christ. But it shows that the earlier a copy is, the more likely is it to be free from mistakes.

We must, therefore, try to find out how old our copies of the Gospels, and those of the early writers who quote the Gospels, are. It is no use to search them to find out the date the copyist put on them, for, unfortunately, he did not put the date on them at all. So we must try to get at it in another way. First, let us note the material of which they are composed. A number of them are written on paper. Now, we know that paper did not come into general use in Europe till the second half of the 14th century. Up to that time the writing material used was vellum, and before vellum papyrus was used. Papyrus was used for writing from about the 4th century B.C. to the 4th century A.D., and vellum from about the 4th century to the 14th and 15th centuries. So we may take it as generally correct that copies on paper are later than the 14th century, those on vellum are earlier than the 15th century and not earlier than the 4th century, and those on papyrus are not later than the 4th century. Of course, it may easily happen that a copy on paper may be really more correct than one on vellum, for if a scribe of the 15th century were to make a copy of a manuscript of say, the 6th century, it is obvious that his copy, though written on paper, would be likely to be freer from mistakes than one on vellum made from a manuscript of, say, the 10th century.

Besides the material on which the copy is written we can learn something about its probable age from the style of writing used. If you look at the documents you will see that some of them are written in ordinary, or, as it is called, cursive writing, that is, capital letters at the beginning of sentences and the rest in small letters, while others are entirely in capital letters. These last are known as uncial manuscripts, and the former as minuscule manuscripts. Uncial letters were used in writing down to about the 9th century, so that we are safe in saying that the uncial manuscripts are earlier than the 10th century. Now, while it is admitted that the Gospels as we have them today in our Catholic Bible are substantially the same as when they were written by SS Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John, yet slight inaccuracies must have crept in when the only way to procure a copy of a book was to write it out by hand. I say “slight” inaccuracies, for though there are a great many variant readings, as they are called, not one of them is of any substantial importance-not a single point of Catholic teaching depends for its proof on any variant reading. Such slight differences are of no importance.

Let us suppose, for example, that some catastrophe-the earthquake in San Francisco in 1906, for instance-takes place. It is reported in the papers. Let us read it in half-a-dozen different newspapers, and then count up the “variant readings”-that is, the different words and different way of putting things used by the different reporters. What shall we find? We shall find that there are, perhaps, more than a hundred differences in the way the matter is reported in the different papers, yet the sense is the same in all, and so long as it is reported with substantial accuracy it does not make the slightest difference how many “variant readings” may be found in the different newspapers. It is exactly the same with the variant readings in the ancient copies of the Gospels. These variant readings do not make any change in the sense at all, and if we could compare the Gospels as we have them today with the original ones on papyrus, we should find they are all substantially the same. The original papyrus copies have nearly all disappeared. Papyrus was not so strong a writing material as our modern paper, and, therefore, got worn out in a comparatively short time. However, if you go into the British Museum in London you can see a piece of papyrus on which are some verses of St John’s Gospel; and in Philadelphia there is a papyrus with eighteen verses of St Matthew’s Gospel. Both of these fragments belong to about A.D. 250.

Then there were the Ten Persecutions in the early centuries of the Church when every effort was made by the pagan persecutors to destroy all the copies of the Gospel they could find. However, it is not necessary to possess the original copy of a book to be sure that a copy we happen to have is the same as the original. We have not original copies of the works of Herodotus or Thucydides, for example. Not one of our copies goes back beyond the 10th century A.D.-that is to say, there is a gap of 1,500 years between the time they wrote and the date of the oldest manuscript copy of their works. Yet who doubts about the substantial correctness of the text of their books which we have today? No one. Scholars are well aware that inaccuracies and minor mistakes must have crept into the copies which were made in the days before printing was invented, but they are also well aware that unimportant errors, though they may total many hundreds, and even many thousands, make no real difference so long as the substantial accuracy is preserved. We are infinitely better off in the matter of ancient manuscripts in the case of the Gospels than in the case of the Greek and Latin classics.

But perhaps the most important link in the chain connecting our present-day copies of the Gospels with the original ones written by SS Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John in the first century A.D. is the Vulgate-St Jerome’s great revision which he undertook by command of Pope St Damasus I (366–384). At that time a number of variant readings had crept into the Gospels in use among the people, and Pope St Damasus asked St Jerome, who was the greatest biblical scholar of his day-and perhaps of any day-to bring out an edition as free as possible from faulty readings. He was able to make use of Greek manuscripts and ancient versions which have long since disappeared; we shall be able to appreciate the great value of his work if we remember that he was able to use documents going back perhaps to the days of the Apostles themselves. His edition of the New Testament, which was completed in A.D. 385, is thus a most valuable link between our own time and that of the Apostles.

Now, let us look at the three groups of documents. The first is composed of Greek manuscripts, the oldest-Codex Vaticanus-going back to the 4th century; the second group is composed of Versions, the oldest being Codex Vercellensis, a Latin translation belonging to the 4th or 5th century; other ancient versions are those in Syriac, the oldest-Sinaitic Syriac (Sir Syn)-belonging to the 5th century; in Coptic, the oldest-the Sahidic fragments-going back to the 5th century, and in Armenian, the oldest dating from 887. (There are others, but these are the principal.) In the third group are the quotations from the Gospels made by the early Christian writers, some of whom (St Clement of Rome, for instance) lived in the time of the Apostle St John. The Gospels as we have them today come from these three groups of documents. These documents bring us up to the 4th-1st centuries. For, consider the documents themselves: Where did they come from? From still earlier copies of the Gospels made in the 3rd, 2nd, and 1st centuries. A number of the early Christian writers who quoted the Gospels lived in the first century-Pope St Clement, for instance, who was martyred about A.D. 97; St Ignatius, Bishop of Antioch (lived about 50–110); Papias, Bishop of Phrygia (lived about 60–135); St Polycarp (lived about 69–155). The Gospels quoted by these Fathers were the Gospels in use in their time-that is, the first, and early part of the second century. So it is quite possible for us to know what the Gospels of the first century were like. Biblical scholars who have studied the matter have shown that our present-day Gospels are substantially the same as those in the first century.

The documents in the second group come from translations made at least in the second century, and possibly towards the end of the first century; the Greek manuscripts in the first group come from copies of the Gospels made in the days of the Apostles. St Jerome made use of these early copies for his Vulgate version-he told Pope St Damasus that he had utilized the ancient manuscripts. They were ancient even in his time! That is why the Vulgate is so valuable; because it enables us to know what, substantially, the Gospel text was in his time and back from his time to the days of the Apostles. So, to put a long story in a few words, we can go back from our own day to the fourth century, from the fourth to the third, from the third to the second, and from the second to the first, and see for ourselves that the Gospels as we have them today are substantially the same as in the days of the Apostles. Biblical scholars have done that, and are able to affirm that the Gospels have come down to us substantially unchanged. And, after all, how could they have been substantially changed and escape detection? The early heretics made such alterations (see 13. Apocryphal Gospels) but they were speedily denounced. Even in the earliest days of Christianity, the Gospels were read in the assemblies of the faithful, and any attempt to alter the Gospels would have been easily detected by the bishops and the people and could not succeed. And why should the early Christians alter the Gospels? The idea is perfectly absurd. The early Christians had, as was natural, the utmost reverence for the Gospels, and rather than give them up to the pagans, who wanted to stamp out the Christian religion, they laid down their lives in thousands. The early Christians would not alter the Gospels even if they could, and they could not alter them even if they wished to do so. The Gospels, then, have come down to us substantially unchanged.

10. Ancient Manuscripts of the Gospels.The oldest one in the world is the Codex Vaticanus (known as Codex B).* It is in the Vatican Library at Rome. It is written in Greek, and is some sixteen hundred years old. I have before me as I am writing a photograph of one of its pages, and every letter stands clearly out, showing the excellence of the ink and vellum used by that pious monk of the fourth-century, and the careful way he wrote it. Evidently his motto was “nothing but the best,” and though it must have meant years of labour-sometimes it took a whole lifetime to copy out a book-he never flagged at his task. It is written in capital letters (down to about the ninth century all books were written in capitals) and there are no divisions between the different words, nor any divisions into chapters and verses. If you live near any big public library you may be able to see what the Codex Vaticanus is like, for Pope Pius IX had excellent facsimile copies of it made for the chief libraries in Europe.

Another very old Bible is the Codex Sinaiticus (Codex Aleph) in the British Museum, London. It was for a long time in the Monastery of St Catherine on Mount Sinai, where a German scholar named Tischendorf saw it in 1859. At his request the monks made a present of it to Tsar Alexander II, who placed it in the Imperial Library, Petrograd. In 1934 it was purchased from the Russian authorities by the British Government for £100,000. The writing is very like that of the Codex Vaticanus, and Tischendorf thought it was the older of the two. Scholars are nowadays generally agreed that the Vaticanus is the older. Like the Vaticanus, it belongs to the fourth century.

The third oldest Bible is the Codex Alexandrinus (Codex A), also in the British Museum, London. It was written in the fifth century, and was given by Cyril Lucar, who had been Patriarch of Alexandria, to King Charles I, of England, in 1628. The writing is somewhat different from that of the other two, and the beginning of new paragraphs is marked by very large capital letters.

Next comes the Codex Ephraem (Codex C), written in the fifth century, and now in the National Library at Paris. I have before me a photograph of one of its pages, and a very extraordinary looking thing it is. Two distinct writings appear on it-one, all in capitals, and the other in cursive or ordinary writing, with capitals only at the beginning of sentences. The older writing looks as if an attempt had been made to erase it, so that the page might be used for the later writing. And this is really what took place. The Codex Ephraem is what is known as a “palimpsest.” Palimpsest comes from Greek palimpsestos, “scraped again.” In the early centuries vellum was scarce and dear. The result was that when a person wanted to copy out a book and could not get any new vellum on which to write, he scraped or

* Contains nearly the whole Bible rubbed off the writing in a book which he did not consider of much importance. As a rule, however, he was content if he obtained a fairly clean surface, so that the original writing was not absolutely rubbed away, traces of it faintly appearing under the new writing. In 1834 a chemical mixture was discovered which had the effect of bringing out, more or less clearly, the traces of the original writing, and in this way some very old books have been brought to light once more. The Codex Ephraem is one of these. The earlier writing dates from the fifth century. Later on, in the thirteenth century, a monk wished to copy out the works of St Ephraem. As he was unable to get a supply of vellum he put his hands on the first book he found, which happened to be a Bible written in the fifth century, and proceeded to rub it out to make room for his favourite author.

Another well-known manuscript is the Codex Bezae (Codex D) in the Cambridge University Library. It was written not later than the sixth century, and some scholars believe it is much earlier even than this. It is in both Greek and Latin, but it contains only the Gospels and the Acts of the Apostles. In all, some 4,105 Greek manuscripts of the New Testament (167 containing the whole of the New Testament, 1,277 containing the Gospels, the remaining manuscripts containing only parts of the New Testament) have come down to us.

11. Purpose of the Gospels.St Matthew wrote for Jews, to prove to them that Jesus was the Messias foretold by the Prophets, that His kingdom was a spiritual one, and already set up, and that all men may enter it, and be children of God, who is man’s heavenly Father. St Mark wrote for Christians living in Rome, that they might have a permanent record of St Peter’s preaching showing that Our Lord proved Himself the Son of God by His miracles. St Luke wrote to strengthen his friend Theophilus-and all those converts like him-in the faith; and St John tells us that he wrote his Gospel “that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ the Son of God: and that believing you may have life in His name” (xx. 31)-that is, his purpose was to refute certain heretics who, towards the end of the first century, denied the divinity of Our Lord, and to help the Christians of his time to understand more fully the sublime teaching of Jesus Christ.

12. The Synoptic Problem.The Gospels of SS Matthew, Mark, and Luke are known as “synoptic” Gospels (from Greek sunopsis, “that which is taken in at a glance”), because having much in common, they can be arranged in parallel columns, their resemblances and differences being thus readily perceived. Thus, though not everything Our Lord did or said is in the Gospels (St John tells us that “there are also many other things which Jesus did: which if they were written every one, the world itself, I think, would not be able to contain the books that should be written,”-xxi. 25; cf. ibid. xx. 30), and each writer had therefore a wide field from which to select his material, yet SS Matthew, Mark, and Luke select, as a rule, the same events and discourses; the very words and expressions are often strikingly similar; they follow the same general plan, which is, in outline, the preaching of St John the Baptist, the baptism and temptation of Our Lord, His ministry in Galilee, His journey to Jerusalem for the last Pasch of His earthly life, His passion, death, and resurrection. (St John wrote many years after the other Evangelists. As they had written mainly of Our Lord’s ministry in Galilee, St John, to complete them, confined himself chiefly to the ministry in Judea and Jerusalem.) Yet there are differences no less striking. There is nothing in St Matthew, for example, about the good thief; nor in St Mark about Our Lord’s infancy or early life; nor in St Luke about Our Lord’s walking on the sea. Furthermore even the same events are sometimes put in a different chronological order: thus, St Matthew places the healing of Peter’s mother-in-law after the Sermon on the Mount, while St Luke places it before that sermon. For many years scholars have tried to find out the relationship between these three Gospels, and to account for these various similarities and differences, but so far no definite solution of the “Synoptic Problem,” as it is called, has been found.

Broadly speaking the attempts at solution run along three lines: (1) the second of the three writers made use of the first, the third made use of the first and second, each-that is, the second and third-using also matter derived elsewhere; (2) each of the three made use chiefly of earlier writings which recorded, in more or less detail, works and words of Our Lord; (3) each depended principally on the details of Our Lord’s life and teaching as given in the preaching of the Apostles and disciples. (By force of circumstances, instead of everything that Our Lord did and said being preached in turn, certain incidents were dwelt on more frequently, and thus came to form the substance of the Apostolic preaching.) That preaching was not absolutely fixed, however; various details were added according as it was addressed to Jews or pagans. This oral tradition (as it is called) was thus at once both the same-as regards its main points-and different-as regards various details. Possibly the similarities and differences between the synoptic Gospels may be due to their having been written from this oral tradition. It is more likely, however, that these similarities and differences are due to their having been written partly from this oral tradition and partly from earlier writings-in other words the most likely solution of the “Synoptic Problem,” seems to lie in a combination of (2) and (3).

13. Apocryphal Gospels.The word “apocryphal” comes from Greek apokruphos, meaning “hidden,” “obscure”; and by “apocryphal gospels” are meant certain writings of the 2nd-5th centuries which claimed to be inspired, but which were not recognised as such by the Church, and were therefore not on the “canon” or list of books officially recognised as part of the Sacred Scriptures. Though a book may not be on the “canon”-and be called, therefore, “apocryphal “-it does not necessarily follow that it is a bad, or even an unreliable book-all that follows is that the Church does not teach that such a book is inspired. Thus, in the Vulgate-that is, the official Catholic Bible-there are three writings given in an appendix at the end: they are the Prayer of Manasses, and the Third and Fourth Books of Esdras. These are not on the canon-they are carefully kept apart from the canonical books-and are consequently “apocryphal”; but they are admittedly pious and edifying books. So are some of the apocryphal gospels: they were written with a good intention, in order to supply details concerning Our Lord and His Blessed Mother and St Joseph not given in the gospels of SS Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John. The Church, however, never looks on such works with favour-her attitude towards the marvellous is that of wise caution, as was shown, for instance, in the case of the alleged apparition of the Blessed Virgin at Knock in 1879, and that of the alleged revelations of the Sacred Heart to Claire Ferchaud during the European War-and most of these details are improbable in the extreme; yet they cannot be called bad, at least in the full sense of the word; some of them are probably quite true, and even down to our own day have contributed not a little to piety-the detail, for example, represented in every crib of an ox and an ass being in the stable at the birth of Our Lord, which is recorded, not in any of the canonical gospels, but in the apocryphal Pseudo-Matthew, a gospel alleged to have been written by St Matthew, but in reality a production of the fourth or fifth century. (See page 27).

Not all the apocryphal gospels, however, are as harmless as these supplementary ones; a number of them are wolves in sheep’s clothing-books written by heretics, in which Our Lord was made to say things in favour of their false doctrines (which He could never have said), and which were in most cases put forth as having been written by one or other of the Apostles, in the hope that they might thereby find a footing among the faithful. Such books were bad books in the full sense of the word.

We have thus two distinct classes of apocryphal gospels which obviously stand on very different levels, and must be kept clearly apart. Not all of the apocryphal gospels have come down to us. It’s a long way back to the first five centuries of the Christian era and a great many things have happened since then-wars have taken place, libraries have been destroyed, and many other destructive factors have been at work-and the result has been that in a number of cases all we know about these gospels is their name; not a line of them can be recovered; in a number of others all that has been saved from the wreck of time are a few fragments scattered here and there as quotations in the works of writers of the early centuries of the Church; in six cases only has the text of an apocryphal gospel, substantially as it was written, come down to us.

The following list is fairly complete:

1.-Gospel according to the Hebrews.-The earliest in date: written probably about A.D. 100. Only some 20 fragments, of unequal length, have come down. One has a Saying attributed to Our Lord not found in the New Testament: “Rejoice only when you look upon your brother with charity”-very probably genuine. Describing the baptism of Our Lord, the Holy Spirit is recorded as saying: “My Son, I awaited Thee in all the prophets, I awaited that Thou shouldst come, so that I might rest in Thee.” It was the only gospel used by the first Christian heretics, the Judaizers.

2.-Gospel according to Peter.-Written either about 110–130 or 150–170. Beyond the fact that Serapion, who was Bishop of Antioch from 190 to about 210, had condemned this gospel as heretical, practically nothing was known about it till 1886–7, when M. Bouriant discovered nine pages of it (about 150 lines) during excavations at Akhmin (the ancient Panopolis), Egypt. This fragment contains the end of the history of the Passion, and an account of the Resurrection. According to this gospel when Pilate, who was convinced of the innocence of Jesus, found he could not save Him, he handed Him over to Herod, who had Him crucified immediately.

3.-Gospel according to the Egyptians.-Dates from about 140–150. Only some fragments have survived. A number of scholars think that the fragments of gospels discovered in 1877 on the site of Arsinoe, in the Fayum, and at Behesa (the ancient Oxyrhynchus), Egypt, in 1896–1897 and 1903–1906, belong to this gospel.

4.-Gospel of Marcion.-Marcion was a celebrated heretic and founded his sect, the Marcionites, in 144. He rejected the canonical gospels except that of St Luke, which he altered to suit his heretical views. (The Marcionites paved the way for Manichaeism-the heresy into which St Augustine, as a young man, fell in 373. He was not won to the Church until 387, when he was baptized in Milan by St Ambrose.)

5.-Gospel of the Twelve Apostles.-Written towards the end of the second century. Only fragments remain which show that it was very probably copied from St Matthew’s gospel, with alterations to fit in with heresy.

6.-Gospel of Philip.-Belongs to the same period. Was used by certain Egyptian heretics. Only some fragments have come down.

7.-Gospel of Thomas.-About same period. Fragments, showing that it was heretical, remain. Was revised about the end of the fourth, or beginning of the fifth century by some unknown Christian who cleansed it of its errors. The corrected version has come down and is known as the gospel of Thomas the Israelite Philosopher (see 3 below).

The following ten apocryphal gospels are lost; all we know about them is their names, and that they were in circulation among heretical sects between 150 and 200: Gospels of Cerinthus, of Basilides, of Apelles, of Valentin (these were celebrated heretics of the 2nd century); of Andrew, of Bartholomew, of Thaddaeus, of Judas Iscariot, of Matthias, and of Barnabas (names of some of the Apostles: used by heretics as “camouflage” for the speedier spreading of their false teaching). All the gospels mentioned so far were more or less heretical.

The following gospels were written by Christians: they are largely legendary, but free from heresy. Their text has come down to us. 1-The Protevangel of James, or History of James concerning the Birth of Mary. Adaptations of this gospel are: the Gospel of Pseudo-Matthew, and the Gospel of the Nativity of Mary. 2-History of Joseph the Carpenter. 3-Gospel of Thomas the Israelite Philosopher (see 7 above). 4.-Arab Gospel of the Infancy. 5-Gospel of Nicodemus. 6-The Transitus (or Death) of Mary. These six belong to the 3rd-5th century. But, as I have said, the Church never recognised any of these so-called gospels-she recognised four, and only four, those written by SS Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John.

To sum up, the four Gospels, considered simply and solely as books of history, are absolutely trustworthy, and can be unhesitatingly believed, because their writers were well-informed on the matters about which they wrote, and they set down things as they really took place; and because the Gospels have come down to us substantially as they were written.

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The Great Means of Salvation And of Perfection

ST. ALPHONSUS LIGUORI

INDEX

CHAPTER 1: THE NECESSITY OF PRAYER

1 PRAYER IS A MEANS NECESSARY TO SALVATION

One of the errors of Pelagianism was the assertion that prayer is not necessary for salvation. Pelagius, the impious author of that heresy, said that man will only be damned for neglecting to know the truths necessary to be learned. How astonishing! St. Augustine said: ‘Pelagius discussed everything except how to pray,’ though, as the saint held and taught, prayer is the only means of acquiring the science of the saints; according to the text of St. James: If any man lacks wisdom, let him ask of God, who gives to all abundantly, and upbraides not (James 1,5). The Scriptures are clear enough in pointing out; how necessary it is to pray, if we would be saved. We ought always to pray, and not to faint (Lk. 18,1). Watch and pray, that you enter not into temptation (Mt. 26,41). Ask, and it shall be given you ( Mt. 7,7 ) . The words ‘we ought,’ ‘pray,’ ‘ask,’ according to the general consent of theologians, impose the precept, and denote the necessity of prayer. Wickliffe said that these texts are to be understood, not precisely of prayer, but only of the necessity of good works, for in his system prayer was only well-doing; but this was his error, and was expressly condemned by the Church. Hence Lessius wrote that it is heresy to deny that prayer is necessary for salvation in adults; as it evidently appears from Scripture that prayer is the means, without which we cannot obtain the help necessary for salvation.

The reason of this is evident. Without the assistance of God’s grace we can do no good thing: Without me, you can do nothing (Jn 15,5). St. Augustine remarks on this passage, that our Lord did not say, Without me, you can complete nothing,’ but ‘without me, you can do nothing’; giving us to understand that without grace we cannot even begin to do a good thing. Nay more, St. Paul writes, that of ourselves we cannot even have the wish to do good. Not that we are sufficient to think anything ourselves, but our sufficiency is from God (2 Cor. 3,5). If we cannot even think a good thing, much less can we wish it. The same thing is taught in many other passages of Scripture: God works all in all (1 Cor. 12, 6). I will cause you to walk in my commandments, and to keep my judgments, and do them (Ezek. 36,27). So that, as St. Leo I says, ‘Man does no good thing, except that which God, by his grace, enables him to do,’ and hence the Council of Trent says: ‘If anyone shall assert that without the previous inspiration of the Holy Spirit, and his assistance, man can believe, hope, love or repent, as he ought, in order to obtain the grace of justification, let him be anathema.’

The author of the Opus lmperfectum says that God has given to some animals swiftness, to others claws, to others wings, for the preservation of their life; but he has so formed man, that God himself is his only strength. So that man is completely unable to provide for his own safety, since God has willed that whatever he has, or can have, should come entirely from the assistance of his grace.

But this grace is not given in God’s ordinary Providence, except to those who pray for it; according to the celebrated saying of Gennadius, ‘We believe that no one approaches to be saved, except at the invitation of God; that no one who is invited works out his salvation, except by the help of God; that no one merits this help, unless he prays.’ From these two premises, on the one hand, that we can do nothing without the assistance of grace; and on the other, that this assistance is only given ordinarily by God to the man that prays, who does not see that the consequence follows, that prayer is absolutely necessary to us for salvation? And although the first graces that come to us without any cooperation on our part, such as the call to faith or to penance, are, as St. Augustine says, granted by God even to those who do not pray; yet the saint considers it certain that the other graces, and specially the grace of perseverance, are not granted except in answer to prayer: ‘God gives us some things, as the beginning of faith, even when we do not pray. Other things, such as perseverance, he has only provided for those who pray.’

Hence it is that the generality of theologians, following St. Basil, St. Chrysostom, Clement of Alexandria, St. Augustine, and other Fathers, teach that prayer is necessary to adults, not only because of the obligation of the precept (as they say), but because it is necessary as a means of salvation. That is to say, in the ordinary course of Providence, it is impossible that a Christian should be saved without recommending himself to God, and asking for the graces necessary to salvation. St. Thomas teaches the same: ‘After baptism, continual prayer is necessary to man, in order that he may enter heaven; for though by baptism our sins are remitted, there still remain concupiscence to assail us from within, and the world and the devil to assail us from without.’ The reason then which makes us certain of the necessity of prayer is shortly this, in order to be saved we must contend and conquer: He that strives for the mystery is not crowned except he strive lawfully (2 Tim. 2,5). But without the divine assistance we cannot resist the might of so many and so powerful’ enemies: now this assistance is only granted to prayer; therefore without prayer there is no salvation.

Moreover, that prayer is the only ordinary means of receiving the divine gifts is more distinctly proved by St. Thomas in another place, where he says that whatever graces God has from all eternity determined to give us, he will give only if we pray for them. St. Gregory says the same thing: ‘Man by prayer merits to receive that which God had from all eternity determined to give him.’ Not, says St. Thomas, that prayer is necessary in order that God may know our necessities, but in order that we may know the necessity of having recourse to God to obtain the help necessary for our salvation, and may thus acknowledge him to be the author of all our good. As, therefore, it is God’s law that we should provide ourselves with bread by sowing corn, and with wine by planting vines; so has he ordained that we should receive the graces necessary to salvation by means of prayer: Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and you shall find ( Mt. 7,7 ).

We, in a word, are merely beggars, who have nothing but what God bestows on us as alms: But I am a beggar and poor (Ps. 39, 18 ) . The Lord, says St. Augustine, desires and wills to pour forth his graces upon us, but will not give them except to him who prays: ‘God wishes to give, but only gives to him who asks.’ This is declared in the words, Seek, and it shall be given to you. Whence it follows, says St. Teresa, that he who seeks not, does not receive. As moisture is necessary for the life of plants, to prevent them from drying up, so, says St. Chrysostom, is prayer necessary for our salvation. Or, as he says in another place, prayer vivifies the soul, as the soul vivifies the body: ‘As the body without the soul cannot live, so the soul without prayer is dead and emits an offensive odor.’ He uses these words, because the man who omits to recommend himself to God, at once begins to be defiled with sins. Prayer is also called the food of the soul, because the body cannot be supported without food; nor can the soul, says St. Augustine, be kept alive without prayer: ‘As the flesh is nourished by food, so is man supported by prayers.’ All these comparisons used by the holy Fathers are intended by them to teach the absolute necessity of prayer for the salvation of everyone.

2 WITHOUT PRAYER IT IS IMPOSSIBLE TO RESIST TEMPTATIONS AND TO KEEP THE COMMANDMENTS

Moreover, prayer is the most necessary weapon of defense against our enemies; he who does not avail himself of it, says St. Thomas, is lost. He does not doubt that Adam fell because he did not recommend himself to God when he was tempted: ‘He sinned because he had not recourse to the divine assistance.’ St. Gelasius says the same of the rebel angels: ‘Receiving the grace of God in vain, they could not persevere, because they did not pray.’ St. Charles Borromeo, in a pastoral letter, observes, that among all the means of salvation recommended by Jesus Christ in the Gospel, the first place is given to prayer; and he has determined that this should distinguish his Church from all false religions, when he calls her ‘the house of prayer.’ My house is a house of prayer (Mt. 21,13). St. Charles concludes that prayer is ‘the beginning and progress and the completion of all virtues.’ So that in darkness, distress, and danger,: we have no other hope than to raise our eyes to God, and with fervent prayers to beseech his mercy to save us: As we know not, said king Josaphat, what to do, we can only turn our eyes to you ( 2 Par. 20,12 ) . This also was David’s practice, who could find no other means of safety from his enemies, than continual prayer to God to deliver him from their snares: My eyes are ever towards the Lord; for he shall pluck my feet out of the snare ( Ps. 24,15 ) . So he did nothing but pray: Look upon me, and have mercy on me; for I am alone and poor (Ibid. 16). I cried to you, O Lord; save me that I may keep your commandments (Ps. 118,146). Lord, turn your eyes to me, have pity on me, and save me; for I can do nothing, and beside you there is none that can help me.

And, indeed, how could we ever resist our enemies and observe God’s precepts, especially since Adam’s sin, which has rendered us so weak and infirm, unless we had prayer as a means whereby we can obtain from God sufficient light and strength to enable us to observe them? It was a blasphemy of Luther’s to say that after the sin of Adam the observance of God’s law has become absolutely impossible to man. Jansenius also said that there are some precepts which are impossible even to’ the just, with the power which they actually have, and so far his proposition bears a good sense; but it was justly ‘ condemned by the Church for the addition he made to it, when he said that they have not the grace to make the precepts possible. It is true, says St. Augustine, that man, in consequence of his weakness, is unable to fulfil some of God’s commands with his present strength and the ordinary grace given to all men; but he can easily, by prayer, obtain such further aid as he requires for his salvation: ‘God commands not impossibilities, but by commanding he suggests to you to do what you can, to ask for what is beyond your strength; and he helps you, that you may be able.’ This is a celebrated text, which was afterwards adopted and made a doctrine of faith by the Council of Trent. The holy Doctor immediately adds, ‘Let us see whence?’ (i.e., how man is enabled to do that which he cannot). ‘By medicine he can do that which his natural weakness renders impossible to him.’ That is, by prayer we may obtain a remedy for our weakness; for when we pray, God gives us strength to do that which we cannot do of ourselves.

We cannot believe, continues St. Augustine, that God would have imposed on us the observance of a law, and then made the law impossible. When, therefore, God shows us that of ourselves we are unable to observe all his commands it is simply to admonish us to do the easier things by means of the ordinary grace which he bestows on us, and then to do the more difficult things by means of the greater help which we can obtain by prayer. ‘By the very fact that it is absurd to suppose that God could have commanded us to do impossible things, we are admonished what to do in easy matters, and what to ask for in difficulties.’ But why, it will be asked, has God commanded us to do things impossible to our natural strength? Precisely for this, says St. Augustine, that we may be incited to pray for help to do that which of ourselves we cannot do. ‘He commands some things which we cannot do, that we may know what we ought to ask of him.’ And in another place: ‘The law was given, that grace might be sought for; grace was given that the law might be fulfilled.’ The law cannot be kept without grace, and God has given the law with this object, that we may always ask him for grace to observe it. In another place he says: ‘The law is good, if it be used lawfully; what, then, is the lawful use of the law?’ He answers: ‘When by the law we perceive our own weakness, and ask of God the grace to heal us.’ St. Augustine then says: We ought to use the law; but for what purpose? To learn by means of the law, which we find to be above our strength, our own inability to observe it, in order that we may then obtain by prayer the divine aid to cure our weakness.

St. Bernard’s teaching is the same: ‘What are we, or what is our strength, that we should be able to resist so many temptations? This certainly it was that God intended; that we, seeing our deficiencies, and that we have no other help, should with all humility have recourse to his mercy.’ God knows how useful it is to us to be obliged to pray, in order to keep us humble, and to exercise our confidence; and he therefore permits us to be assaulted by enemies too mighty to be overcome by our own strength, that by prayer we may obtain from his mercy aid to resist them; and it is especially to be remarked that no one can resist the impure temptations of the flesh without recommending himself to God when he is tempted. This foe is so terrible that, when he fights with us, he? as it were, takes away all light; he makes us forget all our meditations, all our good resolutions; he makes us also disregard the truths of faith, and even almost lose the fear of the divine punishments. For he conspires. with our natural inclinations, which drive us with the greatest violence to the indulgence of sensual pleasures. He who in such a moment does not have recourse to God is lost. The only defence against this temptation is prayer, as St. Gregory of Nyssa says: ‘Prayer is the bulwark of chastity’; and before him Solomon: And as I knew that I could not otherwise be continent except God gave it, I went to the Lord and besought him (Wis. 8,21). Chastity is a virtue which we have no strength to practice, unless God gives us; and God does not give this strength except to him who asks for it. But whoever prays for it will certainly obtain it.

Hence St. Thomas observes (in contradiction to Jansenius) that we ought not to say that the precept of chastity, or any other; is impossible to us; for though we cannot observe it by our own strength, we can by God’s assistance. ‘We must say that what we can do with the divine assistance is not altogether impossible to us.’ Nor let it be said that it appears an injustice to order a cripple to walk straight. No, says St. Augustine, it is not an injustice, provided always means are given him to find the remedy for his lameness; for after this, if he continues to go crooked, the fault is his own: ‘It is most wisely commanded that man should walk uprightly, so that when he sees that he cannot do so of himself, he may seek a remedy to heal the lameness of sin.’ Finally, the same holy Doctor says, that he will never know how to live well who does not know how to pray well. ‘He knows how to live aright who knows how to pray aright’; and, on the other hand, St. Francis of Assisi says that without prayer you can never hope to find good fruit in a soul.

Wrongly, therefore, do those sinners excuse themselves who say that they have no strength to resist temptation. But if you have not this strength, why do you not ask for it? is the reproof which St. James gives them: You have it not, because you ask it not. There is no doubt that we are too weak to resist the attacks of our enemies. But, on the other hand, it is certain that God is faithful, as the Apostle says, and will not permit us to be tempted beyond our strength: God is faithful, who will not suffer you to be tempted above that which you are able; but will make also with the temptation issue, that you may be able to bear it (1 Cor. 10,13). ‘He will provide an issue for it,’ says Primasius, ‘by the protection of his grace, that you may be able to withstand the temptation.’ We are weak, but God is strong; when we ask him for aid, he communicates his strength to us, and we shall be able to do all things, as the Apostle reasonably assured himself: I can do all things in him who strengthens me ( Phil. 4, 13). He, therefore, who falls has no excuse (says St. Chrysostom), because he has neglected to pray; for if he had prayed, he would not have been overcome by his enemies: ‘Nor can anyone be excused who, by ceasing to pray, has shown that he did not wish to overcome his enemy.’

3 INVOCATION OF THE SAINTS

IS IT USEFUL TO HAVE RECOURSE TO THE SAINTS?

Here a question arises, whether it is necessary to have recourse also to the intercession of the saints to obtain the grace of God.

That it is a lawful and useful thing to invoke the saints, as intercessors, to obtain for us, by the merits of Jesus Christ, that which we, by our demerits, are not worthy to receive, is a doctrine of the Church, declared by the Council of Trent: ‘It is good and useful to invoke them by supplication, and to fly to their aid and assistance to obtain benefits from God through his Son Jesus Christ.’

Such invocation was condemned by the impious Calvin, but most illogically. For if it is lawful and profitable to invoke living saints to aid us, and to beseech them to assist us in prayers, as the prophet Baruch did: And pray ye for us to the Lord our God (Bar. 1,13) and St. Paul: Brethren, pray for us (1 Thes. 5,25); and as God himself commanded the friends of Job to recommend themselves to his prayers, that by the merits of Job he might look favourably on them: Go to my servant Job, . . . and my servant Job shall pray for you; his face I will accept (Job 42,8); if, then, it is lawful to recommend ourselves to the living, how can it be unlawful to invoke the saints who in heaven enjoy God face to face? This is not derogatory to the honor due to God, but it is doubling it; for it is honouring the king not only in his person but in his servants. Therefore, says St. Thomas, it is good to have recourse to many saints, ‘because by the prayers of many we can sometimes obtain that which we cannot by the prayers of one.’ And if anyone objects, But why have recourse to the saints to pray for us, when they are already praying for all who are worthy of it? The same Doctor answers, that no one can be said to be worthy that the saints should pray for him; but that ‘he becomes worthy by having recourse to the saints with devotion.’

IS IT GOOD TO INVOKE THE SOULS IN PURGATORY?

Again, it is disputed whether there is any use in recommending one’s self to the souls in purgatory. Some say that the souls in that state cannot pray for us; and these rely on the authority of St. Thomas, who says that those souls, while they are being purified by pain, are inferior to us, and therefore ‘are not in a state to pray for us, but rather require our prayers.’ But many other Doctors, as Bellarmine, Sylvius, Cardinal Gotti, Lessius, Medina and others affirm with great probability, that we should piously believe that God manifests our prayer to those holy souls in order that they may pray for us; and that so the charitable interchange of mutual prayer may be kept up between them and us. Nor do St. Thomas’ words present much difficulty; for, as Sylvius and Gotti say, it is one thing not to be in a state to pray, another not to be able to pray. It is true that those souls are not in a state to pray, because, as St. Thomas says, while suffering they are inferior to us, and rather require our prayers; nevertheless, in this state they are well able to pray, as they are friends of God. If a father keeps a son whom he tenderly loves in confinement for some fault; if the son then is not in a state to pray for himself, is that any reason why he cannot pray for others? and may he not expect to obtain what he asks, knowing, as he does, his father’s affection for him? So the souls in purgatory, being beloved by God, and confirmed in grace, have absolutely no impediment to prevent them from praying for us. Still the Church does not invoke them, or implore their intercession, because ordinarily they have no cognizance of our prayers. But we may piously believe that God makes our prayers known to them; and then they, full of charity as they are, most assuredly do not omit to pray for us. St. Catharine of Bologna, whenever she desired any favour, had recourse to the souls in purgatory, and was immediately heard. She even testified that by the intercession of the souls in purgatory she had obtained many graces which she had not been able to obtain by the intercession of the saints.

OUR DUTY TO PRAY FOR THE SOULS IN PURGATORY

Here let me make a digression in favour of those holy souls. If we desire the aid of their prayers, it is but fair that we should mind to aid them with our prayers and good works. I said it is fair, but I should have said it is a Christian duty; for charity obliges us to succour our neighbour when he requires our aid, and we can help him without grievous inconvenience. Now it is certain that amongst our neighbours are to be reckoned the souls in purgatory, who, although no longer living in this world, yet have not left the communion of saints. ‘The souls of the pious dead,’ says St. Augustine, ‘are not separated from the Church,’ and St. Thomas says more to our purpose, that the charity which is due to the dead who died in the grace of God is only an extension of the same charity which we owe to our neighbour while living: ‘Charity, which is the bond which unites the members of the Church, extends not only to the living, but also to the dead who die in charity.’ Therefore, we ought to succour, according to our ability, those holy souls as our neighbours; and as their necessities are greater than those of our other neighbours, our duty to succour them seems also to be greater.

But now, what are the necessities of those holy prisoners? It is certain that their pains are immense. The fire that tortures them, says St. Augustine, is more excruciating than any pain that man can endure in this life: That fire will be more painful than anything that man can suffer in this life.’ St. Thomas thinks the same, and supposes it to be identical with the fire of hell: ‘The damned are tormented and the elect purified in the same fire.’ And this only relates to the pains of sense. But the pain of loss (that is, the privation of the sight of God), which those holy souls suffer, is much greater; because not only their natural affection, but also the supernatural love of God, wherewith they burn, draws them with such violence to be united with their Sovereign Good, that when they see the barrier which their sins have put in the way, they feel a pain so acute, that if they were capable of death, they could not live a moment. So that, as St. Chrysostom says, this pain of the deprivation of God tortures them incomparably more than the pain of sense: ‘The flames of a thousand hells together could not inflict such torments as the pain of loss by itself.’ So that those holy souls would rather suffer every other possible torture than be deprived for a single instant of the union with God for which they long. So St. Thomas says that the pain of purgatory exceeds anything that can be endured in this life: ‘The pain of purgatory must exceed all pain of this life.’ And Dionysius the Carthusian relates, that a dead person, who had been raised to life by the intercession of St. Jerome, told St. Cyril of Jerusalem that all the torments of this earth are refreshing and delightful when compared with the very least pain of purgatory: If all the torments of the world were compared with the least that can be had in purgatory they would appear comfortable.’ And he adds, that if a man had once tried those torments, he would rather suffer all the earthly sorrows that man can endure till the Day of Judgment, than suffer for one day the least pain of purgatory. Hence St. Cyril wrote to St. Augustine: ‘That as far as regards the infliction of suffering, these pains are the same as those of hell—their only difference being that they are not eternal.’ Hence we see that the pains of these holy souls are excessive, while, on the other hand, they cannot help themselves; because as Job says: They are in chains and are bound with the cords of poverty (Job 36, 8). They are destined to reign with Christ; but they are withheld from taking possession of their kingdom till the time of their purgation is accomplished. And they cannot help themselves ( at least not sufficiently, even according to those theologians who assert that they can by their prayers gain some relief,) to throw off their chains, until they have entirely satisfied the justice of God. This is precisely what a Cistercian monk said to the sacristan of his monastery: ‘Help me, I beseech you, with your prayers; for of myself I can obtain nothing.’ And this is consistent with the saying of St. Bonaventure: ‘Destitution prevents solvency.’ That is, those souls are so poor, that they have no means of making satisfaction.

On the other hand, since it is certain, and even of faith, that by our suffrages, and chiefly by our prayers, as particularly recommended and practiced by the Church, we can relieve those holy souls, I do not know how to excuse that man from sin who neglects to give them some assistance, at least by his prayers. If a sense of duty will not persuade us to succour them, let us think of the pleasure it will give Jesus Christ to see us endeavouring to deliver his beloved spouses from prison, in order that he may have them with him in paradise. Let us think of the store of merit which we can lay up by practicing this great act of charity; let us think, too, that those souls are not ungrateful, and will never forget the great benefit we do them in relieving them of their pains, and in obtaining for them, by our prayers, anticipation of their entrance into glory; so that when they are there they will never neglect to pray for us. And if God promises mercy to him who practices mercy towards his neighbour—Blessed are the merciful for they shall obtain mercy (Mt. 5, 7)—he may reasonably expect to be saved who remembers to assist those souls so afflicted, and yet so dear to God. Jonathan, after having saved the Hebrews from ruin by a victory over their enemies, was condemned to death by his father Saul for having tasted some honey against his express commands; but the people came before the king, and said, Shall Jonathan then die, who hath wrought this great salvation in Israel? (I Samuel 14,45). So may we expect that if any of us ever obtains, by his prayers, the liberation of a soul from purgatory, that soul will say to God: ‘Lord, suffer not him who has delivered me from my torments to be lost.’ And if Saul spared Jonathan’s life at the request of his people, God will not refuse the salvation of a Christian to the prayers of a soul which is his own spouse. Moreover, St. Augustine says that God will cause those who in this life have most succoured those holy souls, when they come to purgatory themselves, to be most succoured by others. 1may here observe that, in practice, one of the best suffrages is to hear Mass for them, and during the Holy Sacrifice to recommend them to God by the merits and passion of Jesus Christ. The following form may be used: ‘Eternal Father, I offer you this Sacrifice of the body and blood of Jesus Christ, with all the pains which he suffered in his life and death; and by his passion I recommend to you the souls in purgatory, and especially that of . . . ‘ etc. And it is a very charitable act to recommend, at the same time, the souls of all those who are at the point of death.

IS IT NECESSARY TO INVOKE THE SAINTS?

Whatever doubt there may be whether or not the souls in purgatory can pray for us, and therefore whether or not it is of any use to recommend ourselves to their prayers, there can be no doubt whatever with regard to the saints. For it is certain that it is most useful to have recourse to the intercession of the saints canonized by the Church, who are already enjoying the vision o f God. To suppose that the Church can err in canonizing, is a sin, or is heresy, according to St. Bonaventure, Bellarmine, and others; or at least next door to heresy, according to Suarez, Azorius, Gotti, etc.; Because the Sovereign Pontiff, according to St. Thomas, is guided by the infallible influence of the Holy Spirit in a special way when canonizing the saints.

But to return to the question just proposed: Are we obliged to have recourse to the intercession of the saints? I do not wish to meddle with the decision of this question; but I cannot omit the exposition of a doctrine of St. Thomas. In several places above quoted, and especially in his book of Sentences, he expressly lays it down as certain that everyone is bound to pray; because (as he asserts) in no other way can the graces necessary for salvation be obtained from God, except by prayer:. ‘Every man is bound to pray, from the fact that he is bound to procure spiritual good for himself, which can only be got from God; so it can only be obtained by asking it of God.’ Then, in another place of the same book, he proposes the exact question, ‘Whether we are bound to pray to the saints to intercede for us?’ And he answers as follows—in order to catch his real meaning, we will quote the entire passage: ‘According to Dionysius, the order which God has instituted for his creatures requires that things which are remote may be brought to God by means of things which are nearer to him. Hence, as the saints in heaven are nearest of all to him, the order of his law requires that we who “remaining in the body are absent from the Lord,” should be brought to him by means of the saints; and this is effected by the divine goodness pouring forth his gifts through them. And as the path of our return to God should correspond to the path of the good things which proceed from him to us, it follows that, as the benefits of God come down to us by means of the suffrages of the saints, we ought to be brought to God by the same way, so that a second time we may receive his benefits by the mediation of the saints. Hence it is that we make them our intercessors with God, and as it were our mediators, when we ask them to pray for us.’ Note well the words—‘the order of God’s law requires’; and especially note the last words—‘as the benefits of God come down to us by means of the suffrages of the saints, in the same way we must be brought back to God so that a second time we may receive his benefits by the mediation of the saints.’ So that, according to St. Thomas, the order of the divine law requires that we mortals should be saved by means of the saints, in that we receive by their intercession the help necessary for our salvation. He then puts the objection, that it appears superfluous to have recourse to the saints, since God—is infinitely more merciful than they, and more ready to hear us. This he answers by saying: ‘God has so ordered, not on account of any want of mercy on his part, but to keep the right order which he has universally established, of working by means of second causes. It is not for want of his mercy, but to preserve the aforesaid order in the creation.’

In conformity with this doctrine of St. Thomas, the Continuator of Tourneley and Sylvius write that although God only is to be prayed to as the Author of grace, yet we are bound to have recourse also to the intercession of the saints, so as to observe the order which God has established with regard to our salvation, which is, that the inferior should be saved by imploring the aid of the superior. ‘By the law of nature we are bound to observe the order which God has appointed; but God has appointed that the inferior should obtain salvation by imploring the assistance of his superior.’

4 THE INTERCESSION OF THE BLESSED VIRGIN

And if this is true of the saints, much more is it true of the intercession of the Mother of God, whose prayers are certainly of more value in his sight than those of all the rest of the inhabitants of heaven together. For St. Thomas says that the saints, in proportion to the merits by which they have obtained grace for themselves, are able also to save others; but that Jesus Christ, and so also his Mother, have merited so much grace that they can save all men. ‘It is a great thing in any saint that he should have grace enough for the salvation of many beside himself; but if he had enough for the salvation of all men, this would be the greatest of all; and this is the case with Christ, and with the Blessed Virgin.’ And St. Bernard speaks thus to Mary: ‘Through you we have access to your Son, O discoverer of grace and Mother of salvation, that through you he may receive us, who through you was given to us.’ These words signify that as we only have access to the Father by means of the Son, who is the Mediator of justice, so we only have access to the Son by means of the Mother, who is mediator of grace, and who obtains for us, by her intercession, the gifts which Jesus Christ has merited for us. And therefore St. Bernard says, in another place, that Mary has received a twofold fullness of grace. The first was the Incarnation of the Word, who was made Man in her most holy womb; the second is that fullness of grace which we receive from God by means of her prayers. Hence the saint adds: ‘God has placed the fullness of all good in Mary, that if we have any hope, any grace, any salvation, we may know that it overflows from her who “ascends abounding with delights.”‘ She is a garden of delights, whose odours spread abroad and abound; that is, the gifts of graces. So that whatever good we have from God, we receive all by the intercession of Mary. And why so? Because, says St. Bernard, it is God’s will: ‘Such is his will, who would have us receive everything through Mary.’ But the more precise reason is deduced from the expression of St. Augustine that Mary is justly called our Mother, because she cooperated by her charity. in the birth of the faithful to the life of grace, by which we become members of Jesus Christ, our head: ‘But clearly she is the mother of his members (which we are); because she cooperated by her charity in the birth of the faithful in the Church, and they are members of that Head.’ Therefore, as Mary cooperated by her charity in the spiritual birth of the faithful, so also God willed that she should cooperate by her intercession to make them enjoy the life of grace in this world, and the life of glory in the next; and therefore the Church makes us call her and salute her, without any circumlocution, by the names, ‘our life, our sweetness and our hope.’

Hence St. Bernard exhorts us to have continual recourse to the Mother of God, because her prayers are certain to be heard by her Son: ‘Go to Mary, I say, without hesitation; the Son will hear the Mother.’ And then he says: ‘My children, she is the ladder of sinners, she is my chief confidence, she is the whole ground of my hope.’ He calls her ‘ladder,’ because, as you cannot mount: the third step except you first put your foot on the second, nor can you arrive at the second except by the first, so you cannot come to God except by means of Jesus Christ, nor can you come to Christ except by means of his Mother. Then he calls her his greatest security, and the whole ground of his hope; because, as he affirms, God wills that all the graces which he gives us should pass through the hands of Mary. And he concludes by saying, that we ought to ask all the graces which we desire through Mary; because she obtains whatever she seeks, and her prayers cannot be resisted. ‘Let us seek grace, and let us seek it through Mary; because what she seeks she finds and she cannot be disappointed.’ The following saints teach the same as St. Bernard: St. Ephrem, ‘We have no other confidence than from you, O purest Virgin!’ St. Ildephonsus, ‘All the good things that the divine Majesty has determined to give them, he has determined to commit to your hands; for to you are entrusted the treasures and the wardrobes of grace.’ St. Germanus, ‘If you desert us, what will become of us, O life of Christians?’ St. Peter Damian, ‘In your hands are all the treasures of the mercies of God.’ St. Antoninus, ‘Who seeks without her aid, attempts to fly without wings.’ St. Bernardine of Sienna, ‘You are the dispenser of all graces; our salvation is in your hands.’ In another place, he not only says that all graces are transmitted to us by means of Mary, but also asserts that the Blessed Virgin, from the time she became Mother of God, acquired a certain jurisdiction over all the graces that are given to us: ‘Through the Virgin the vital graces are transfused from Christ, the head, into his mystical body. From the time when the Virgin Mother conceived in her womb the Word of God, she obtained a certain jurisdiction (if I may so speak) over every temporal procession of the Holy Spirit; so that no creature could obtain any grace from God, except by the dispensation of his sweet Mother.’ And he concludes, ‘Therefore all gifts, virtues, and graces are dispensed through her hands to whom she wills, and as she wills.’ St. Bonaventure says the same: ‘Since the whole divine nature was in the womb of the Virgin, I do not fear to teach that she has a certain jurisdiction over all the streams of grace; as her womb was, as it were, an ocean of the divine nature, whence all the streams of grace must emanate.’ On the authority of these saints, many theologians have piously and reasonably defended the opinion, that there is no grace given to us except by means of the intercession of Mary; so Mendoza, Vega, Paciucchelli, Segneri, Piore, Crasset and others, as also the learned Alexander Natalis who says: ‘It is God’s will that we should look to him for all good things, to be procured by the most powerful intercession of the Blessed Virgin, when we invoke her, as it is fit.’ And he quotes in confirmation the passage of St. Bernard: ‘Such is his will, who has determined that we should receive all through Mary.’ Contenson says the same, in a comment on the words addressed by Jesus on the cross to St. John, ‘Behold thy Mother’ (Jn 19, 27): as though he had said, ‘No one shall be partaker of my blood except by the intercession of my Mother. My wounds are fountains of grace; but their streams shall Mow to no one, except through the canal of Mary. O my disciple John, I will love you as you love her!’ For the rest, it is certain that if God is pleased when we have recourse to the saints, he will be much more pleased when we avail ourselves of the intercession of Mary, that she, by her merits, may compensate for our unworthiness, according to the words of St. Anselm: ‘That the dignity of the intercessor may supply for our poverty. So that, to invoke the Virgin is not to distrust God’s mercy, but to fear our own unworthiness.’ St. Thomas, speaking of her dignity, calls it, as it were, infinite: ‘From the fact that she is the Mother of God, she has a certain infinite dignity.’ So that it may be said with reason, that the prayers of Mary have more power with God than those of all heaven together.

CONCLUSION—CHAPTER 1

Let us conclude this first point by giving the gist of all that has been said hitherto. He who prays is certainly saved. He who prays not is certainly damned. All the blessed (except infants) have been saved by prayer. All the damned have been lost through not praying; if they had prayed, they would not have been lost. And this is, and will be, their greatest torment in hell, to think how easily they might have been caved, only by asking God for his grace; but that now it is too late,—the time of prayer is over.

CHAPTER 2: THE POWER OF PRAYER

1 EXCELLENCE OF PRAYER AND ITS POWER WITH GOD

Our prayers are so dear to God, that he has appointed the angels to present them to him as soon as they come forth from our mouths. ‘The angels,’ says St. Hilary, ‘preside over the prayers of the faithful, and offer them daily to God.’ This is that smoke of the incense, which are the prayers of saints, which St. John saw ascending to God from the hands of the angels (Apoc. 8,3); and which he saw in another place represented by golden phials full of sweet odors, very acceptable to God. But in order to understand better the value of prayers in God’s sight, it is sufficient to read both in the Old and New Testaments the innumerable promises which God makes to the man that prays. Cry to me, and 1will hear you (Ps. 49,15). Call upon me, and I will deliver you (Jer. 33,3). Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and you shall find; knock, and it shall be opened to you. He shall give good things to them that ask him (Mt. 7,7). Everyone that asks receives, and he that seeks finds (Lk. 11,10). Whatsoever they shall ask, it shall be done for them by my Father (Jn 15,7). All things whatsoever you ask when you pray, believe that you shall receive them, and they shall come to you (Mt. 18,19). If you ask me anything in my name, that will I do (Jn 14,14). You shall ask whatever you will, and it shall be done to you. Amen, amen, 1say to you, if you ask the Father anything in my name, he will give it to you (Jn 16,23). There are a thousand similar texts; but it would take too long to quote them.

God wills us to be saved; but for our greater good, he wills us to be saved as conquerors. While, therefore, we remain here, we have to live in a continual warfare; and if we should be saved, we have to fight and conquer. ‘No one can be crowned without victory,’ says St. Chrysostom. We are very feeble, and our enemies are many and mighty; how shall we be able to stand against them, or to defeat them? Let us take courage, and say with the Apostle, I can do all things in him who strengthens me (Phil. 4,13). By prayer we can do all things; for by this means God will give us that strength which we want. Theodoret says, that prayer is omnipotent; it is but one, yet it can do all things: ‘Though prayer is one, it can do all things.’ And St. Bonaventure asserts that by prayer we obtain every good, and escape every evil: ‘By it is obtained the gain of every good, and liberation from every evil.’ St. Laurence Justinian says, that by means of prayer we build for ourselves a strong tower, where we shall be secure from all the snares and assaults of our enemies: ‘By the exercise of prayer man is able to erect a citadel for himself:’ ‘The powers of hell are mighty,’ says St. Bernard; ‘but prayer is stronger than all the devils.’ Yes; for by prayer the soul obtains God’s help, which is stronger than any created power. Thus David encouraged himself in his alarms: Praising I will call upon the Lord, and I shall be saved from my enemies (Ps. 17,3). For, as St. Chrysostom says, ‘Prayer is a strong weapon, a defence, a port, and a treasure.’ It is a weapon sufficient to overcome every assault of the devil; it is a defence to preserve us in every danger; it is a port where we may be safe in every tempest; and it is at the same time a treasure which provides us with every good.

2 POWER OF PRAYER AGAINST TEMPTATION

God knows the great good which it does us to be obliged to pray, and therefore permits us (as we have already shown in the previous chapter) to be assaulted by our enemies, in order that we may ask him for the help which he offers and promises to us. But as he is pleased when we run to him in our dangers, so is he displeased when he sees us neglectful of prayer. ‘As the king,’ says St. Bonaventure, ‘would think it faithlessness in an officer, when his post was attacked, not to ask him for reinforcements, he would be reputed a traitor if he did not request help from the king’; so God thinks himself betrayed by the man who, when he finds himself surrounded by temptations, does not run to him for assistance. For he desires to help us; and only waits to be asked, and then gives abundant succour. This is strikingly shown by Isaias, when, on God’s part, he told king Ahaz to ask some sign to assure himself of God’s readiness to help him: Ask thee a sign of the Lord thy God (Is. 7,11). The faithless king answered: I will not ask, and 1will not tempt the Lord; for he trusted in his own power to overcome his enemies without God’s aid. And for this the prophet reproved him: Hear, therefore, O house of David; is it a small thing for you to be grievous to mere, that you are grievous to my God also? because that man is grievous and offensive to God who will not ask him for the graces which he offers.

Come to me, all you that labour and are burdened, and I will refresh you ( Mt. 11,28). ‘My poor children,’ says our Savior, ‘though you find yourselves assailed by enemies, and oppressed with the weight of your sins, do not lose heart but have recourse to me in prayer, and I will give you strength to resist, and I will give you a remedy for all your disasters.’ In another place he says, by the mouth of Isaias, Come and accuse me, says the Lord; if your sins be as scarlet, they shall be made white as snow (Is. 1,18). O men, come to me; though your consciences are horribly defiled, yet come; I even give you leave to reproach me (so to speak), if after you have had recourse to me, I do not give you grace to become white as snow.

What is prayer? It is, as St. Chrysostom says, ‘the anchor of those tossed on the sea, the treasure of the poor, the cure of diseases, the safeguard of health.’ It is a secure anchor for him who is in peril of shipwreck; it is a treasury of immense wealth for him who is poor; it is a most efficacious medicine for him who is sick; and it is a certain preservative for him who would keep himself well. What does prayer effect? Let us hear St. Laurence Justinian: ‘It pleases God, it gets what it asks, it overcomes enemies, it changes men.’ It appeases the wrath of God, who pardons all who pray with humility. It obtains every grace that is asked for; it vanquishes all the strength of the tempter, and it changes men from blind into seeing, from weak into strong, from sinners into saints. Let him who wants light ask it of God, and it shall be given. As soon as I had recourse to God says Solomon, he granted me wisdom: I called upon, and the Spirit of wisdom came to me (Wis. 7,7). Let him who wants fortitude ask it of God, and it shall be given. As soon as I opened my mouth to pray, says David, I received help from God: I opened my mouth, and drew in the Spirit (Ps. 118,131). And how in the world did the martyrs obtain strength to resist tyrants, except by prayer, which gave them force to overcome dangers and death?

‘He who uses this great weapon,’ says St. Chrysostom, ‘knows not death, leaves the earth, enters heaven, lives with God.’ He falls not into sin; he loses affection for the earth; he makes his abode in heaven; and begins, even in this life, to enjoy the conversation of God. How then can you disquiet such a man by saying: ‘How do you know that you are written in the book of life?’ How do you know whether God will give you efficacious grace and the gift of perseverance? Be not solicitous, says St. Paul, but in everything by prayer and supplicatory, with thanksgiving, let your petitions be known to God (Phil. 4,6). What is the use, says the Apostle, of agitating yourselves with these miseries and fears? Drive from you all these cares, which are of no use but to lessen your confidence, and to make you more tepid and slothful in walking along the way of salvation. Pray and seek always, and make your prayers sound in God’s ears, and thank him for having promised to give you the gifts which you desire whenever you ask for them, namely efficacious grace, perseverance, salvation, and everything that you desire. The Lord has given us our post in the battle against powerful foes; but he is faithful in his promises, and will never allow us to be assaulted more violently than we can resist: God is faithful, who will not suffer you to be tempted above that which thou are able (I Cor. 10,13). He is faithful, since he instantly succours the man who invokes him. The learned Cardinal Gotti writes that God has bound himself not only to give us grace precisely balancing the temptation that assails us, but that he is obliged, when we are tempted, and have recourse to him, to afford us, by means of that grace which is kept ready for and offered to all, sufficient strength for us actually to resist the temptation. ‘God is bound, when we are tempted, and fly to his protection, to give us by the grace prepared and offered to all such strength as will not only put us in the way of being able to resist, but will also make us resist; “for we can do all things in him who strengthens us” by his grace, if we humbly ask for it.’ We can do all things with God’s help, which is granted to everyone who humbly seeks it; so that we have no excuse when we allow ourselves to be overcome by a temptation. We are conquered solely by our own fault, because we would not pray. By prayer all the snares and power of the devil are easily overcome. ‘By prayer all hurtful things are chased away,’ says St. Augustine.

3 GOD IS ALWAYS READY TO HEAR US

St. Bernardine of Sienna says that prayer is a faithful ambassador, well-known to the King of heaven, and having access to his private chamber, and able by his importunity to induce the merciful heart of the King to grant every aid to us his wretched creatures, groaning in the midst of our conflicts and miseries in this valley of tears. ‘Prayer is a most faithful messenger, known to the King, who is used to enter his chamber, and by his importunity to influence the merciful mind of the King, and to obtain us assistance in our toils.’ Isaias also assures us that as soon as the Lord hears our prayers, he is moved with compassion towards us; and does not leave us to cry long to him, but instantly replies, and grants us what we ask: Weeping, you shall not weep; he will surely have pity upon you: the voice of your cry as soon as he shall hear, he will answer you (Is. 30,19). In another place he complains of us by the mouth of Jeremias: Am I become a wilderness to Israel, or a lateward springing land? Why then have my people said, we are revolted, and will come to you no more! (Jer. 2,31). Why do you say that you will no more have recourse to me? Has my mercy become to you a barren land, which can yield you no fruits of grace? or a cold soil, which yields its fruit too late So has our loving Lord assured us that he never neglects to hear us, and to hear us instantly when we pray; and so does he reproach those who neglect to pray through distrust of being heard.

If God were to allow us to present our petitions to him once a month, even this would be a great favour. The kings of the earth give audiences a few times in the year, but God gives a continual audience. St. Chrysostom writes that God is always waiting to hear our prayers, and that a case never occurred when he neglected to hear a petition offered to him properly: ‘God is always prepared for the voice of his servants, nor did he ever, when called upon as he ought to be, neglect to hear.’ And in another place he says that when we pray to God, before we have finished recounting to him our supplications, he has already heard us: ‘It is always obtained, even while we are yet praying.’ We even have the promise of God to do this: As they are yet speaking I will hear (Is. 65,24). The Lord, says David, stands near to everyone who prays, to console, to hear, and to save him: The Lord is nigh to all, them that call upon him; to all that call upon him in truth ( that is, as they ought to call). He will do the will of them that fear him; and he will hear their prayer and will save them (Ps. 144,18,19). This it was in which Moses gloried, when he said: There is not another nation so great, that has gods so nigh them, as our God is present to all our petitions (Deut. 4,7). The gods of the Gentiles were deaf to those who invoked them, for they were wretched fabrications, which could do nothing. But our God, who is Almighty, is not deaf to our prayers, but always stands near the man who prays, ready to grant him all the graces which he asks: In what day soever I shall call upon you, behold I shall know that you are my God (Ps. 55,10). Lord, says the Psalmist, hereby do I know that you, my God, are all goodness and mercy, in that, whenever I have recourse to you, you instantly help me.

4 WE SHOULD NOT LIMIT OURSELVES TO ASKING FOR LITTLE THINGS

TO PRAY IS BETTER THAN TO MEDITATE

We are so poor that we have nothing; but if we pray we are no longer poor. If we are poor, God is rich; and God, as the Apostle says, is all liberality to him that calls for his aid: Rich unto all who call upon him (Rom. 10,12). Since, therefore (as St. Augustine exhorts us), we have to do with a Lord of infinite power and infinite riches, let us not go to him for little and valueless things, but let us ask some great thing of him: ‘You seek from the Almighty—seek something great.’ If a man went to a king to ask some trumpery coin, like a farthing, I think, that man would but insult his king. On the other hand, we honour God, we honor his mercy, and his liberality, when, though we see how miserable we are, and how unworthy of any kindness, we yet ask for great graces, trusting in the goodness of God, and in his faithfulness to his promises of granting to the man who prays whatever grace he asks: Whatsoever you will, ask, and it shall be done unto you (Jn 15,7). St. Mary Magdalene of Pazzi said, ‘That God feels himself so honored and is so delighted when we ask for his grace, that he is, in a certain sense, grateful to us; because when we do this we seem to open to him a way to do us a kindness, and to satisfy his nature, which is to do good to all.’ And let us be sure that, when we seek God’s grace, he always gives us more than we ask If any of you want wisdom, let him ask of God, who gives to all abundantly, and upbraides not (James 15). Thus speaks St. James, to show us that God is not like men, parsimonious of his goods; men, though rich and liberal, when they give alms, are always somewhat close-handed, and generally give less than is asked of them, because their wealth, however great it be, is always finite; so that the more they give the less they have. But God, when he is asked, gives his good things ‘abundantly,’ that is, with a generous hand, always giving more than is asked, because his wealth is infinite, and the more he gives the more he has to give: For you, O Lord, are sweet and mild; and plenteous in mercy to all that call upon you (Ps.,85,5). You, O my God, said David, are but too liberal and kind to him that invokes you; the mercies which you pour upon him are superabundant, above all he asks.

On this point, then, we have to fix all our attention, namely, to pray with confidence, feeling sure that by prayer all the treasures of heaven are thrown open to us. ‘Let us attend to this,’ says St. Chrysostom, ‘and we shall open heaven to ourselves.’ Prayer is a treasure; he who prays most receives most. St. Bonaventure says that every time a man has recourse to God by fervent prayer, he gains good things that are of more value than the whole world: ‘Any day a man gains more by devout prayer than the whole world is worth.’ Some devout souls spend a great deal of time in reading and in meditating, but pay but little attention to prayer. There is no doubt that spiritual reading, and meditation on the eternal truths, are very useful things; ‘but,’ says St. Augustine, ‘it is of much more use to pray.’ By reading and meditating we learn our duty; but by prayer we obtain the grace to do it. ‘It is better to pray than to read: by reading we know what we ought to do; by prayer we receive what we ask.’ What is the use of knowing our duty, and then not doing it, but to make us more guilty in God’s sight? Read and meditate as we like, we shall never satisfy our obligations, unless we ask of God the grace to fulfil them.

And, therefore, as St. Isidore observes, the devil is never more busy to distract us with the thoughts of worldly cares than when he perceives us praying and asking God for grace: ‘Then mostly does the devil insinuate thoughts, when he sees a man praying.’ And why? Because the enemy sees that at no other time do we gain so many treasures of heavenly goods as when we pray. This is the chief fruit of mental prayer, to ask God for the graces which we need for perseverance and for eternal salvation; and chiefly for this reason it is that mental prayer is morally necessary for the soul, to enable it to preserve itself in the grace of God. For if a person does not remember in the time of meditation to ask for the help necessary for perseverance, he will not do so at any other time; for without meditation he will not think of asking for it, and will not even think of the necessity for asking it. On the other hand, he who makes his meditation every day will easily see the needs of his soul, its dangers, and the necessity of his prayer; and so he, will pray, and will obtain the graces which will enable him to persevere and save his soul. Father Segneri said of himself, that when he began to meditate, he aimed rather at exciting affections than at making prayers. But when he came to know the necessity and the immense utility of prayer, he more and more applied himself, in his long mental prayer, to making petitions.

As a young swallow so will I cry, said the devout king Hezekias (Is. 38,14). The young of the swallow does nothing but cry to its mother for help and for food; so should we all do, if we would preserve our life of grace. We should be always crying to God for aid to avoid the death of sin, and to advance in his holy love. Father Rodriguez relates that the ancient Fathers, who were our first instructors in the spiritual life, held a conference to determine which was the exercise most useful and most necessary for eternal salvation; and that they determined it was to repeat over and over again the short prayer of David, Incline unto my aid, O God! ( Ps. 69,1 ) . ‘This,’ says Cassian ‘is what everyone ought to do who wishes to be saved: he ought to be always saying, My God, help me! my God, help me!’ We ought to do this the first thing when we awake in the morning; and then to continue doing it in all our needs, and when attending to our business, whether spiritual or temporal; and most especially when we find ourselves troubled by any temptation or passion. St. Bonaventure says that at times we obtain a grace by a short prayer sooner than by many other good works: ‘Sometimes a man can sooner obtain by a short prayer what he would be a long time obtaining by pious works’ St. Ambrose says that he who prays, while he is praying obtains what he asks, because the very act of prayer is the same as receiving : ‘He who asks of God, while he asks receives; for to ask is to receive.’ Hence St. Chrysostom wrote that ‘there is nothing more powerful than a man who prays,’ because such a one is made partaker of the power of God. To arrive at perfection, says St. Bernard, we must meditate and pray: by meditation we see what we want; by prayer we receive what we want. ‘Let us mount by meditation and prayer: the one teaches what is deficient, the other obtains that there should be nothing deficient.’

CONCLUSION—CHAPTER 2

In conclusion, to save one’s soul without prayer is most difficult, and even (as we have seen) impossible, according to the ordinary course of God’s providence. But by praying our salvation is made secure, and very easy. It is not necessary in order to save our souls to go among the heathen, and give up our life. It is not necessary to retire into the desert, and eat nothing but herbs. What does it cost us to say, My God, help me! Lord, assist me! have mercy on me! Is there anything more easy than this? and this little will suffice to save us, if we will be diligent in doing it. St. Laurence Justinian specially exhorts us to oblige ourselves to say a prayer at least when we begin any action: ‘We must endeavour to offer a prayer at least in the beginning of every work.’ Cassian attests that the principal advice of the ancient Fathers was to have recourse to God with short but frequent prayers. Let no one, says St. Bernard, think lightly of prayer, because God values it, and then gives us either what we ask, or what is still more useful to us: ‘Let no one undervalue his prayer, for God does not undervalue it . . . he will give either what we ask, or what he knows to be better.’ And let us understand, that if we do not pray, we have no excuse, because the grace of prayer is given to everyone. It is in our power to pray whenever we will, as David says of himself: With me is prayer to the God of my life; I will say to God, you are my support (Ps 41,8 9).

God gives to all the grace of prayer, in order that thereby they may obtain every help, and even more than they need, for keeping the divine law, and for persevering till death. If we are not saved, the whole fault will be ours; and we shall have our own failure to answer for, because we did not pray.

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The Greatest Century

THE THIRTEENTH

BY REV. T. N. BURKE-GAFFNEY, S.J

INDEX

For most of the matter contained in this pamphlet the writer is indebted to Dr. J. J. Walsh’s “The Thirteenth, the Greatest of Centuries.” (New York: The Catholic Summer School Press.) The Front Illustration shows:-”Rheims Cathedral: A Glory of the 13thCentury.”

THE casual reader of history will express surprise at the idea of labelling as the “Greatest” the Thirteenth Century. “Why,” he will say, “the history of that century consists of a series of petty squabbles and intrigues, the result of rivalries and jealousies on the part of warring claimants to the position of Emperor of the Holy Roman Empire. You see the struggles of Guelf and Ghibelline for supremacy in Germany and Italy; inter-baronial wars, wars between barons and kings, quarrels between both and the clergy in England and France; Spain struggling against the Moors; Ireland being overrun by the Normans; the Turks consolidating their hold on Palestine. If you seek true greatness, look at the Nineteenth Century: see the great advances made in the realms of science and industry; the expansion of trade and manufactures. Life would be intolerable were we deprived of these, of the Press and our political emancipation, both products, too, of this same era. Or, if you must go back to origins, go to the Sixteenth Century, and see there the revival of letters and art, the beginnings of science, the voyages and discoveries that have led to the colonization of new worlds and the foundation of empires.

But the Thirteenth! The great deeds or great names which belong to it can be counted almost on the fingers of one hand! There are the Crusades of course, and Louis IX of France [the Saint and King]; the Magna Charta, and the beginnings of Parliament, and Edward I of England; a number of Universities were founded, it is true, and Cathedrals built; and, of course, Dante and Giotto belong to that time; and Roger Bacon and St. Dominic, and St. Francis of Assisi, and St. Thomas and St. Bonaventure. . . .” And so the names go on multiplying till at length the sceptic comes to believe that, after all, the Thirteenth Century may well be termed great. It is clearly impossible to enter into every phase of greatness within the limits of this pamphlet; the enumeration of the names of famous men and women of the century, together with a list of their most important works, would alone suffice to fill the available space. We must be content with a rapid survey of some of the most outstanding features.

But where begin? Amid the wealth of interesting features worthy of notice, one is tempted to flutter lightly, butterfly fashion, from one subject to another, to follow at random the paths and side tracks that appear at not infrequent intervals along the road. The difficulty of selection may be gauged perhaps, from Dr. J. J. Walsh’s “The Thirteenth, the Greatest of Centuries.” He required 400 pages to discuss the century in twenty-six chapters, each dealing with a separate feature of Thirteenth Century life; and even then he felt compelled to add an appendix, entitled “Twenty-six chapters that might have been.”

Let us start with the Crusades. The Crusades do not belong to this century alone; the first three -and, perhaps, the most important of all-belong to the previous century. The first began in 1095; the seventh ended with the death of St. Louis of France in 1270, though Prince Edward of England stayed for some time longer in the East. For all practical purposes, this was the last of the Crusades, though for many years afterwards, at many different dates, new efforts were made to reconquer the Holy Land.

Viewed from the practical standpoint of their avowed object, the Crusades must be set down as a failure. They did not achieve their end, which was to set up a permanent Christian dominion in the Holy Land; but they had far-reaching effects on the people of Europe. In the first place, they, knit together the warring factions and gave them a common purpose and a common outlet for their war-like energy; they gave birth to the age of Chivalry, whereby the knights undertook to protect the poor and weak; they opened up to Europe the civilizations of the East; they gave an impetus to extended trade; they introduced to Europe Eastern learning and prepared the way for a wider and broader culture. Again, to raise money to support their arms, kings and princes and barons sold charters of liberty to towns within their dominions, thus gradually breaking up the old feudal system, and leading to the consolidation of nations on a new footing.

But above all and before all -and herein lies their chief glory-they fostered that spirit of Christianity-as they were an expression of it-which is so characteristic of the Middle Ages. Then men frankly acknowledged the supernatural, as something real and personal, and as demanding public expression. Religion was part of man; it entered into every phase of his life, accompanied him from childhood into youth, right through manhood to the very gates of death. The service of the Church, and of God through the Church, was man’s greatest ambition ; there was a universal recognition of the superiority of the spiritual over the temporal life, and the Pope, as head of the spiritual world, was considered the superior of emperors and kings. When, as they often did, these clashed with the Pope in temporal matters; they never for an instant denied his spiritual authority. Indeed, the Popes were invoked time and again as arbitrators even in temporal affairs, and their arbitration was accepted when it was offered. Rome was the highest court of appeal. The Crusades, sponsored as they were by successive Popes, helped to foster this spirit and to increase the influence of the Church in every walk of life.

During the reign of Innocent III, indeed, every crowned head in Europe either sought his arbitration in some quarrel with a neighbouring prince, or submitted to his reproof. The Emperor Otto of Germany owed his success to the Pope’s encouragement of his supporters; King Philip of France was brought to book for divorcing his wife: King John of England was forced to accept Stephen Langton as Archbishop of Canterbury; King Peter of Castile was excommunicated for divorcing his wife; Bulgaria was given a king; Portugal was granted fuller independence; the King of Hungary and his brother were reconciled; in Norway and in Sweden there was similar mediation. Innocent III has been called the greatest Pope who occupied the See of Peter; most certain it is that he did more than any other to strengthen the influence of Rome in Europe, in such sort that not till the end of the century-which opened two years after his elevation-did that influence begin to wane. Such was the spirit of the times which saw the Crusades, which gave birth to them and was in turn nourished by them.

One more effect is to be attributed to the Crusades; in the words of G. W Gr eene, quoted by Dr. Walsh, “relations of fraternity, till then wholly unknown, grew up between different nations and softened the deep-rooted antipathy of races. The knights, whom a common object united in common dangers, became brothers in arms and finally formed permanent ties of friendship. . . . Stranger and enemy seemed to be synonymous, and “the Crusaders,” say the chronicles of the times, “although divided by language, seemed to form only one people, by their love for God and their neighbour.” And without colouring the picture too warmly, and making all due allowance for the exaggerations which were so natural to the first recorders of such a movement, we may say that human society was founded and united and Europe began to pass from the painful period of organization, to one of fuller and more rapid development.”

The spirit which pervaded the Crusaders is to be found also among the trade-guilds in the same century. Like the Crusades, the guilds do not belong exclusively to this time, but unlike them, they go back very much further and remained in full vigour till abolished at the time of the Reformation-in England, at any rate-as superstitious bodies. While they retained full vigour, however, they had departed from their first principles and had in great part lost their usefulness. In the Thirteenth Century they may be said to be at their best, for it was at the end of this century that the first seeds of decay were sown by the limitation of membership.

The origins of the guilds are lost in antiquity; but in their earliest known form they seem to have been mutual benefit societies. In times of sickness the members and their families were supported from the common fund; funerals were also paid for from the common fund, and further assistance was given to needy brethren. In the Thirteenth Century, the people reorganized themselves to better their conditions and developed the guilds in the manner in which they have become best known to us. The trades were organized separately: thus there were the stonemasons” guild, the carpenters” guild, the bakers” guild, the tailors” guild, and so on through every trade. Each guild had a patron saint, if possible one connected in some way with the trade; St. Luke, for instance, was the patron of the painters” guild, which included stainers, gilders and workers in alabaster.

The religious element was strong in these guilds; the members had to attend Mass in common on the feast of the patron saint and on certain other days in the Year; work was stopped early on the vigils of the greater feasts-about 24 in the year-as well as on Saturdays. Social obligations were imposed on the members also; and defaulting members were fined. They were fined for being absent from the special religious services, as well as for being absent from the annual dinner.

The members of the guild of St. Luke at Lincoln, for example, were obliged by their first rule to assemble on the Sunday following the feast of their patron and proceed in procession to the Cathedral, carrying a large candle, which was to be offered before an image of St. Luke, each member also offering a halfpenny, or more if his devotion so moved him. Any who were absent without good reason were fined a pound of wax for the upkeep of the candle. On the same day was held the annual dinner, every member paying fourpence for himself and his wife, or, if unmarried, for his bride-to-be. Again, absentees were fined a pound of wax, which went to the upkeep of the candle. A similar fine was imposed for absence from any of the quarterly general meetings, held to confer on any matter that might need discussion, to examine work done by aspiring masters, and so forth. One interesting rule provides for almsgiving on the death of a member. On the eighth or thirtieth day after his death every other member was obliged to purchase from the Dean of the Cathedral for a fixed sum, a “token,” which he should then give to some poor person. With the money so raised, the Dean purchased a supply of bread which he distributed in exchange for the tokens. Hence the danger of abuse in promiscuous almsgiving was avoided, while each member gave a fixed sum in charity for the benefit the deceased member.

That the guilds were popular and that they influenced the life of the people may be gathered from the. fact that there were thirty thousand of them in England at the beginning of the Sixteenth Century. The reasons for their popularity may be found in the number of needs to which they ministered. They provided insurance against sickness, poverty and fire; they supplied loans on easy terms; they provided for burial; they settled disputes by arbitration, and they provided a technical education which has never been rivalled. This last, perhaps, is their greatest feature; and to it is directly responsible the production of the magnificent Gothic Cathedrals, the glory of the Thirteenth Century.

A youth who was thought to have a liking for some trade or craft was apprenticed to the guild in his native town or in a neighbouring town, if it were absent from his own. He assisted the workmen in various ways, usually a particular craftsman, who supplied him with board and lodgings and clothing during his apprenticeship, but gave him no wages. If he showed no aptitude for that particular line of work”, he was sent away after a year or so and began again in some other trade. After four or five years, if he had been found to have some talent for the craft, he was accepted as a journeyman, the lowest grade in the guild. Then he went from place to place getting work where he could, and picking up a great deal of new knowledge of his trade in various towns before he returned to his native town or to the place where he intended to settle down, His next endeavour was to gain full membership of the guild, to qualify as a master craftsman. He had first to produce evidence proving that he had duly finished his apprenticeship and his years as a journeyman. Having satisfied the officials on this head, he had, next, to present to them a test piece of work as evidence of his skill. If it came up to the standard he was admitted to full membership, with full rights and privileges. This sample in consequence was known as the masterpiece. The same practice was followed all over Europe as in England, and the development of skill was in large measure, and in most trades, due to the same cause: the desire to make dwellings worthy of the God who was to inhabit them.

All the arts at this time owed their inspiration to the Church, and found their highest expression in the decoration of Cathedrals. In England alone about twenty Cathedrals were erected, or in course of erection, in the Thirteenth Century, and in the Continent very many more, not all of which, needless to say, were completed within the century. Two consequences follow from this: firstly, since there was so much activity in building, those responsible for the erection of the Cathedrals had, of necessity, to rely upon local talent to a very great extent. It was impossible to get men to come from very great distances when their services were required in their own immediate neighbourhood, where they could ply their various trades to great advantage; and secondly, there was engendered a spirit of friendly rivalry.

At each centre at which a Cathedral was in the course of being erected, the people felt a certain pride about the work in hand, and they strove their utmost not only to produce something worthy of the end in view -a place for the worship and service of God-not only to produce something not quite like any other building, something distinctive, which should be characteristic of themselves and of their neighbourhood-but they tried, too, to ensure that their Cathedral would be finer and better than any other then being created in neighbouring towns. Each of these circumstances resulted in the growth of what may well be termed technical schools in the vicinity of the Cathedrals, where the apprentices learned to produce the marvellous works of art now so much admired, where only the very best work was accepted, where, consequently, artistic skill was developed to a very high degree. The local stonemasons put their very best efforts into the production of worthy sculpture; the carpenters saw that only the very finest woodwork was produced: the workers in metal set about the construction of commonplace gates and hinges and locks and bolts, and made of them enduring works of art.

Lincoln and Salisbury, Rheims and Amiens, Sienna and Burgos, what noble monuments to the humble, nameless artists who constructed them! Where find to-day metal work of such surpassing beauty as that of the gate “de la Vierge” in the Notre Dame de Paris? What modern sculptor could reproduce the delicate traceries of Burgos? The interior fittings, the windows, the altar vessels-chalices, monstrances, reliquaries, crucifixes,-these are no less beautiful and no less typical of the century which produced them. Only in an age like that could they have been produced. Then the worker was an artist, and loved his work for its own sake; not, as today, a machine, practically, for getting things done, working simply for a wage, caring little how the work is done, coming reluctantly to work and leaving as soon as may be. The Thirteenth Century worker, on the contrary, was glad of a new day which might see the completion of one piece or the beginning of another, the perfection or touching up of last day’s work which failing light had interrupted. There was no social problem then, for men were happy, as only those can be who find contentment and pleasure in their daily tasks.

What was done for the Cathedrals, and what was done by them for the workers, was done also for, and by, the many monasteries built at this time, the public buildings and the castles of the nobles, which draw less attention now though they are well worthy of the students” notice. The castles, of course, being built as places of retreat in time of war as well as of residence in peace, are stronger and less ornate exteriorly than are the other buildings, but the interior fittings and decoration are worthy products of their age.

Technical education was thus provided for, and in a manner at once more popular and more thorough than it is today. That was the education provided by the trade guilds for their members; other education-except religious instruction in the churches-they had none. Nevertheless, there were regular schools in those times. Attached to every monastery was a school where the rising generations were taught everything that was considered necessary for them in their future lives, and where those who were destined to proceed- to the Universities were prepared in such fashion as to be fitted to profit by the lectures. Besides these monastic schools, which date almost from the foundation of the monasteries, Cathedral schools were instituted in the Thirteenth Century. The Fourth Council of Lateran-the Twelfth Ecumenical Council-held during the Pontificate of Innocent III, ordered such preparatory schools to be attached to every Cathedral, and, attached to the Cathedral of every Archdiocese, three chairs-of Grammar, of Philosophy and of Canon Law-were to be erected. The succeeding Popes of this century-Honorius III, Gregory IX, Urban IV, and others-interested themselves further in such schools.

The object of this was, partly, to relieve the congestion of existing Universities. This was done by withdrawing from them the younger people who were educated and prepared for University studies by their elder relatives, already following University lectures, to the detriment of both. A further object was in preparing for the institution of new Universities in these centres. A final objective was, partly, to provide for the education of those who had no intention of following University courses. This led naturally to the foundation of many Universities during the Thirteenth Century, and to the conversion into Universities, mostly- in the following century, of many of the schools then opened. There were existing before this time some Universities, notably at Paris and Bologna, Oxford and Upsala, but it was only at this period that they were organized into Faculties in the way in which we know them.

The Popes, notably Innocent III, Gregory IX, and Honorius IV, played a large part in the foundation of Universities, more particularly in Italy, where they were established before the end of the century in Vicenza, Arezzo, Reggio, Padua, Naples, Vercelli, Siena, Piacenza, and Perugia. In France, besides that at Paris, the Medical School of Montpellier became a University, as did the Law (Civil) School of Orleans, while new ones were erected at Angers and Toulouse. In Spain there were Universities at Salamanca, Valencia, Valladolid and Lerida. To these may be added Modena, Vicenza, and at least the beginnings of Valentia, Cahors, Avignon, Cambridge, and Prague. No German Universities belong to this time.

The Faculties of Arts, of Law, of Medicine, and of Theology alone were recognized then; hitherto these had been for the most part separate schools, having nothing in common. Now, while each centre still specialized in one department, and drew students to its lectures in that department from all over the world, chairs in the other branches were also established. For instance, Montpellier continued to attract medical students; Orleans, students of civil law long after these subjects had been introduced into other Universities, and they remained the chief centres for these subjects for many centuries.

The Faculty of Arts consisted chiefly of the trivium and the quadrivium of the old Roman Schools, that is Grammar, Logic and Rhetoric (trivium) and Geometry, Arithmetic, Music and Astronomy (quadrivium). These were common to all the Universities; that is to say, that no one University seems to have been specially sought after by reason of its superiority over others in this respect.

There remains the Faculty of Theology, and in this Paris remained pre-eminent almost as long as Theology was a major interest in University education. The reason of this is not far to seek; the greatest theologians of all times had been professors there. This brings us to what is known as Scholasticism.

By way of preface to a review of Scholasticism, it is interesting to read the view taken of it by the writer of the article on this subject in the “Encyclopaedia Brittanica,” Prof. T. M. Lindsay, of the Free College, Glasgow: “The thought of God as the Creator and Preserver of all things gives a complete unity to the universe which pagan thought never reached, and gave that basis for the thought of the uniformity of nature which science demands. It was long ere Christianity could force thisthought on the human intelligence, but, until it had permeated the whole round of man’s intellectual work it was vain to look for advance in science. It was the task of scholastic theology and philosophy to knead into human thought Christian ideas, and among the rest the idea of the unity and uniformity of nature. AntiChristian critics have spoken of the deadness and uselessness of Scholasticism, but its value for science and scientific enquiry can scarcely be overestimated, for it was Scholasticism which worked Christianity into every department of human and intellectual activity, and so leavened them with it that when its work was done the intelligence of man was so saturated with the Christian view of nature that it could never again forget it. When Scholasticism had accomplished its task, modern science sprang into being, dependent for its very foundations on that Christianity to which it is supposed to be so bitterly hostile.”

Scholasticism, like the Crusades and the trade guilds, is not a phenomenon peculiar to this century, but, also, as it is for them, this century is its Golden Age. Its rise is generally traced back to Peter Lombard, the “Master of Sentences,” in the second half of the Twelfth Century, though some put St. Anselm, Archbishop of Canterbury, in the Eleventh Century, or Radbert and Scotus Erigena, in the Ninth, as the founders of this method of study: for it is a method of study rather than a form of doctrine. It consisted in applying to Christian doctrine the scientific system of philosophy developed by Aristotle and thus working out Theology along scientific lines on a basis of philosophy. Naturally, such a system could not be the product of a single brain nor of a single age; like any and every other scientific method, it was capable of growth and expansion, it was built up gradually, every new achievement being a step to further progress. Consequently, at whatever period Scholasticism began, it found its development in the Thirteenth Century.

Contemporary with this development in doctrine, there was a revival of religious fervour, taking the form of reaction against the wealth and luxury of the clergy, which was an inevitable result of the high positions these held in civil affairs. Many benefices lay in the patronage of secular princes, and these too often used them as a means of providing for younger sons of noble families, irrespective of their fitness or worthiness for the charge entailed, many of them becoming little better than civil functionaries and amassing great wealth. The reaction against this led to extravagance in the opposite direction, by the formation of such sects as the Waldenses, the Humiliati, the Cathari, the Albigenses; heretics who all started out by denouncing real abuses and ended in denying articles of faith. A safe middle way for correcting abuses without falling into error was found by two men who lived during the first quarter of the century-St. Francis of Assisi and St. Dominic, founders of the Franciscan and Dominican Orders respectively.

St. Francis was the son of a wealthy merchant, and until the age of twenty-five lived much as any other young man of that time lived; he had youth and wealth and leisure, and he made what seemed to him the best use of them. But at twenty-five he fell seriously ill, and life seemed different when viewed from the portals of the grave. There was some higher object in life than living for the mere sake of living. Francis found for himself the answer to the question: Why have I come into this world? Henceforth he would live for God, which meant that he would live for others; he would follow the example of Christ as literally as could be. And hence he renounced all he had, home, friends, wealth, to be poor with Christ; like Christ, he had nowhere to lay his head; like Him, his food depended on the Charity of stranger;. Without any previous determination to found a new Order, he saw an Order grow up around him as more and more came to him as disciples to learn by his example. Before his death the Order which was to do so much and such great work for the Church numbered its members by thousands.

What Francis did in Italy, Dominic did in Spain. Here, too, a great religious Order, founded on the principle of poverty, sprang up to combat the luxury of the age. But while Francis and his followers preached by their example chiefly, Dominic and his disciples preached by word of mouth. From the beginning, the Order of St. Dominic gave great scholars to the Church. “Strangely as the two men differed,” wrote Greene in his “History of the English People,” “their aim was the ,same, to convert the heathen, to extirpate heresy, to reconcile knowledge with orthodoxy, to carry the Gospel to the poor. The work was to be done by the entire reversal of the older monasticism, by seeking personal salvation in effort for the salvation of their fellow men, by exchanging the solitary of the cloister for the preacher, the monk for the friar. To force the new “brethren” into entire dependence on those among whom they laboured, the vow of poverty was turned into astern reality; the “Begging Friars” were to subsist on the alms of the poor, they might possess neither money nor lands, the very houses in which they lived were to be held in trust for them by others. The tide of popular enthusiasm which welcomed their appearance swept before it the reluctance of Rome, the jealousy of the older Orders, the opposition of the parochial priesthood. Thousands of the brethren gathered in a few years around Francis and Dominic, and the begging preachers, clad in their coarse frocks of serge, with the girdle of rope round their waist, wandered barefooted as missionaries over Asia, battled with heresy in Italy and [France] Gaul, lectured in the Universities, and preached and toiled among the poor.”

From the very beginning the Dominicans and the Franciscans -the one eagerly, the other a little reluctantly- threw themselves into the intellectual movement, with the result that before long the greatest theologians of the age belonged either to the one Order or the other: Alexander of Hales, St. Bonaventure, Duns Scotus among the Franciscans; Albert the Great and St. Thomas Aquinas among the Dominicans. What theology and philosophy owe to these-what, indeed, learning in general owes to them-can hardly be appreciated even yet; but beyond all doubt, it is to them that one must turn to seek the foundations of modern theological method. Their very greatness was the immediate cause of the downfall of Scholasticism in the succeeding ages; for no one dared to imagine that he could equal, much less surpass, the teaching of these Masters, and instead of thinking for themselves the later theologians were content with writing commentaries on their predecessors” works, referring disputed points to them, disputing over topics worn threadbare, multiplying subtleties and distinctions. Of all those theologians by far the greatest was St. Thomas; by common consent his works became the basis of all theological training, not for one decade or two, not for one century or two, but right up to our own times, till they received the stamp of Papal Authority when Leo XIII ordered that St. Thomas should be the standard of all philosophical and theological studies in all Catholic institutions throughout the world.

In his short life -he died at the age of forty-seven-St. Thomas wrote twenty folio volumes, treating every aspect of theology, sufficient, one would think to occupy every moment of a much longer life. Yet his written works represent the occupation of his leisure moments; his days were filled with lecturing in Paris or the other Universities which he visited from time to time, and with the business of his Order. His works include the “Summa Theologica,” the “Summa contra Gentiles,” commentaries on the books of Aristotle, on Holy Scripture, on Boethius, [the 6th Century Christian translator of Greek Philosophy] besides various Sermons and Opuscala [short works]. There is no subject which he treated on which he did not throw great light, no problem for which he did not find an apt solution. For the solution of modern. social problems, Leo XIII recommended-more than recommended-the study of St. Thomas, and that more than six hundred years after his death.

It was only natural that the study of Aristotle, with a view to applying his system to Catholic Theology, should interest the students in the study of Natural Science; and consequently it is in no way surprising to find that many of the master-minds of that period have left works which may, in many respects, be considered as the foundation of modern science. Not unnaturally, they erred in some respects, but, when all is said and done, the errors are surprisingly few, and the correct views set forth wonderfully true-many, having been rejected by their immediate successors, being now received again in scientific circles,-and are too numerous to be the results of lucky guesswork. It is commonly said that Francis Bacon is the Father of the Inductive Method; yet two, at least, of the Thirteenth Century Scholastics were well acquainted with it-Albert the Great and Roger Bacon. Neither believed in accepting the “ipse dixit” of any inadequate authority, especially in a matter that was capable of verification. “The aim of the natural sciences,” wrote Albert, “is not simply to accept the statements of others but to investigate the causes at work in nature.” Roger Bacon, laying down the causes of ignorance, wrote: “These are, first, trust in an inadequate authority; second, the force of custom which leads men to accept too unquestionably what has been accepted before this time; third, the placing of confidence in the opinion of the inexperienced; and fourth the hiding of one’s own ignorance with the parade of a superficial wisdom.” No better commentary on the root causes of ignorance could be made. Every one of the charges made against the Church, for instance, will be found to be due to one or more of them.

Albert the Great was a professor of Theology, first at Cologne, later at Paris; he it was who instructed St. Thomas, and who alone realized the magnitude of intellect with which Thomas was endowed. When his fellow-students called him a dumb ox. Albert replied that the bellowings of that ox would yet be heard throughout Christendom. Besides his lectures on theology, Albert so devoted himself to the natural sciences that he is now regarded as the chief authority of his age on physics, chemistry (or alchemy, which then stood for chemistry), geography, astronomy, mineralogy, zoology and physiology. His numerous works on these subjects include such titles as “Meteorum,” “Mineralium,” “De Vegetalibus et Plantis,” “De Animalibus,” “De Nutrimentis et Nutribili.” If it is to be assumed-as there is no reason why it should not be-that he practised what he preached, and that he did investigate for himself the causes at work in nature, and that he verified, experimentally or by observation, in so far as it was capable of verification, whatever he heard from others, it is clear that he must have been a versatile genius. He must have had an intellect of no mean order. Granted that physical science was in its elementary stages, granted that the body of known truth was small, only a man of great brilliance could set about making himself familiar with it all at first hand, and lecturing on it, while engaged in lecturing also, and chiefly, on Theology.

Albert the Great was a Dominican; and among his disciples at Paris was Roger Bacon, a Franciscan, and equally versatile. There is hardly a branch of science which did not engage his attention and to which he did not apply his master’s formula, which he had so made his own: In natural science believe only what you can prove. Bacon looked far beyond his own times-how far he could not know-and hardly a century has passed since then in which some discovery has not been made which he had already foreshadowed. Sometimes he is said to have been the inventor of the telescope and of gunpowder. Neither is correct; but what is true is that, writing of gunpowder, which was known to him and with which he must have experimented, he foresees the use of the principle of explosion as a motive force: “Art can construct instruments of navigation such that the largest vessels, governed by a single man, will traverse rivers and seas more rapidly than if they were filled with oarsmen. One may also make carriages which, without the aid of any animal, will run with remarkable swiftness.” Elsewhere he discusses the possibility of using steam as a motive power: and again, discussing the theory of light and its reflection and refraction by lenses, he describes, theoretically, how telescopes and microscopes might be made-many years before the invention of either. It is to this, probably, that reference is made when to him is ascribed the invention of the telescope.

While dealing with the sciences, it may be mentioned that during this century it was not uncommon for priests to practise as physicians, uniting the care of their parishioners” bodies and souls. Those whose names are known to history are such as exercised the functions of physician and chaplain to ecclesiastical or civil dignitaries-Cardinals and Bishops, princes and kings, Among them are the names of Richard of Wendover, and John of St. Giles, both Englishmen, though the latter was attached to the French Court; Gilles of Corbeil, John of St. Amand and Simon of Genoa, physician to Pope Nicholas IV. The best known of these is Peter of Spain, who became in time John XXI. He had been practising medicine as a layman, and had been physician to Gregory IX. He became a priest after his wife’s death, but continued his medical practice, and went to Rome as chaplain-physician to a returning Cardinal Legate. Later he was consecrated Bishop of Braga, in Portugal, of which country, in spite of the name by which he is known, he was a native. In due time he was created Cardinal, and, finally, elected Pope, being one of four Popes who occupied the See of Peter in the year 1276. Like his two immediate predecessors, (Blessed) Innocent V and Adrian V, his reign was very short, for he was killed after a few months by the collapse of a room which he had had built at the Palace of Viterbo, to which he had been accustomed to retire to pursue his scientific studies. He may be regarded as the first specialist in the history of medicine, for he made a special study of the eye and its diseases, and wrote some monographs on that subject.

Theology and Natural Science were not the only subject which occupied the attentions of the Scholastics. Many of them devoted time to the composition of Latin hymns, which are not hymns only, but poetry in the strictest sense of the word. St. Thomas, for instance, wrote quite a number, the best known amongst them being the “Pange Lingua,” [“Sing, My Tongue,”] the last two verses of which-”Tantum Ergo “ [“Down in Adoration Falling”]-form the hymn sung at Benediction all over the world. The “Adoro Te Devote,” [“Godhead, here in Hiding, Whom I do Adore,”] part of the Office of Corpus Christi, is also from the pen of St. Thomas, in which he combines sublime thoughts on a difficult theological subject with marvellous beauty of expression. Even more so is this true of the “Lauda Sion,” [“Praise, O Sion,”] the Sequence he wrote for the Mass of the same day. Other beautiful hymns of this period are the “Adeste Fideles,” [“O Come, All Ye Faithful,”] which is commonly attributed to St. Bonaventure, and the “Veni Creator,” [“O Come, Creator,”] often attributed to Innocent Ill., though the authorship is doubtful.

By far the finest of these hymns, however, are the “Dies Irae” [“The Day of Wrath”] and the “Stabat Mater.” [“Stands the Mother, By the Cross, Her Vigil Keeping.”] The former, which Professor Saintsbury calls “the greatest of all hymns and the greatest of all poems,” is also of doubtful authorship. “It would be possible,” says Professor Saintsbury, “to illustrate a complete dissertation on the methods of expression in serious poetry from the fifty-one lines of the “Dies Irae.” Rhyme, alliteration, cadence and the adjustment of vowel and consonant values-all these things receive perfect expressions in it. . . . After the “Dies Irae,” no poet could say that any effect of poetry was, as far as sound goes, unattainable, though few could have hoped to equal it, and perhaps no one except Dante and Shakespeare has fully done so.”

Hardly less beautiful is the “Stabat Mater,” the work, it would s eem, of a Franciscan, Jacopone da Todi, though there are not wanting those who attribute it to Innocent III. It is remarkable how the authorship of so many of these hymns, themselves so well known, should be doubtful and obscure-even the “Lauda Sion” has been ascribed to St. Bonaventure. The explanation of this fact would seem to be that the composers wished only to share with others their own thoughts and feelings, and to teach them in a manner more agreeable than hard and dry reasoning. They had no thought of fame for themselves: they sought for no notoriety; so be that they gave glory to God and led others to do likewise, they were content.

This is true, also, of many who wrote epic and lyric poems, of which there are not a few. In Spain there is the “Cid,” the earliest of national epic poems in the Christian era, founded naturally enough on the exploits of a national hero warring against the Moors. In England the same place is occupied by the “Arthurian Legends” which date back further than the ThirteenthCentury, but which were then cast into their present form. In Germany it is the “Nibelungen Lied” that is found. also the recasting of ancient tales. These three epics have had a profound influence on the literature of England, Germany and Spain, and through that literature on the Development of the human mind. To these must he added the Meistersingers, the Minnesingers, the Troubadours, the lyric poets who have laid the foundations of poetry in the vernacular. The work of all these poets culminated towards the end of the century in the productions of Dante, whose “Divina Commedia” did for Italy what the “Cid” did for Spain, “Nibelungen Lied” for Germany, and the “Legends of Arthur” for England. No need to stress the fact that Dante ranks with Homer and Shakespeare; no need to stress the. fact that he is a product of the century with which we are concerned. If it had no other claim to greatness, this one fact alone would suffice to stamp the Thirteenth Century as great.

As the foundations of poetry are laid in this century, so, too, are the foundations of prose. For the most part the prose writings are in Latin, since this was the universal language of the times; it is the language of the schools, in which all philosophical and theological lectures were given and much other business transacted. Most chronicles and lives of the saints of the times are written in the same language. And while they have a prose style all their own and did undoubtedly influence the prose of the vernacular languages, yet it cannot be said to be the foundation on which the later prose was built. There are nevertheless some chronicles in vernacular languages, notably the “Conquest of Constantinople,” written by Geoffrey de Villehardouin, himself one of the Crusaders who took part in the expedition. [The expedition, itself, of course was an absolute disgrace to the noble ideals which had inspired the Crusading Movement. Even today, profound apologies are expressed to our brother Christians of the East who were grossly aggrieved by the venal departure from Christian ideals.] It is written in a direct, straightforward, forceful style, likely to appeal to the reader, or the listeners, for probably it was intended to be read aloud in the castles of the nobles. On the other hand, it is not wanting in poetic description, which clearly shows the influence of the older poets. In England, at the same time, was a biographer, Jocelyn of Brakelands, who wrote an English life of a certain saintly Abbot Samson. It is said to be as vivid a picture of theAbbot and his ways as Boswell’s “Life” is of Johnson.

In England, too, was Matthew Paris, who, according to Greene, is the greatest and last of the monastic historians. He was a voluminous writer and no mean artist, illustrating many of his manuscripts with his own hand. Equally noteworthy in the biographical line is Joinville’s “Life of Louis IX,” written by a man who knew that saintly king intimately-was, indeed, his personal friend-and who was by his side in the Crusades. Poetry and Prose, each played its part in forming and reflecting national characteristics.

The limitations of space have forbidden more than the merest mention of the names of works and writers; to those who know them already that indication is sufficient to show the lustre shed by them on the century in which they were produced; those who do not know them would be well advised to make good that deficiency-at least to the extent of learning more about them, for it is not given to all to appreciate them to the full-if they wish to know how truly great was the Thirteenth Century.

Drama, too, has roots in this same period; not in the form we know it now, indeed, but in the guise of Mystery Plays, from which by slow degrees the modern form of drama has evolved. For the most part, these plays were performed by members of the various trade guilds. They were representations of the Bible stories from both the Old and the New Testament, and no important event was omitted, though, of course, only one story was played at any given performance. Nevertheless, as the year went on, the people saw the whole Bible story unfolded before them. Quite apart from the influence these old plays had on the development of the drama, they had another importance quite as great-far greater, indeed. They kept the people in touch with religious topics, kept them occupied with high and lofty thoughts, and set before them great ideals. Then again the preparation necessary for them kept the actors busy and interested, and so prevented idleness outside the hours of work. Their educative value must have been enormous, as is that of anything which is at once recreative and an interesting form of study. St. Francis of Assisi adapted the Mystery Plays as a method of teaching the great truths of religion, and though they existed before his time, it is largely due to him and the members of his Order that they sprang into such great and lasting popularity. They had, too, their element of healthy humour, for other characters, besides those appearing in the Bible narrative, were introduced, and these were often cast in a light and fanciful mood.

If space permitted, much could be written of all those aspects of Thirteenth Century life which have come under review. As it is, only the barest outlines of any feature have been sketched in, with the hope that such a general view of the century as a whole might give some idea of the great things done, movements initiated and problems solved during that time. Great names have been omitted or hardly mentioned, such as [St.] Louis IX. of France; Blanche of Castile, his mother; St. Clare, Edward I of England, St. Elizabeth of Hungary, and many others who played important parts in life, whether political, civil or religious. Many great movements have been omitted, such as the gradual break up of the feudal system and the substitution of Parliaments, as seen in the Provisions of Oxford, Simon de Montefort’s Parliament and the analogous movements in Germany and France; the development of legal systems; the beginnings of commerce, as exemplified by the Hanseatic League; the foundations laid for the establishment of colonial empires and increase in geographic knowledge by the travels and explorations of Marco Polo and of Friar Oderic and others.

Nor has anything been said of the rise of art and the work of Cimabue and of Giotto; of the foundations of hospitals and organized charities, largely the work of Innocent III; of the origins of music as typified by the “Exultet” [“Rejoice and Exult! you Heavenly Powers!”] from the Office of Holy Saturday. Nevertheless, sufficient has, perhaps, been said to convince the casual. sceptical, superficial reader of history that the Thirteenth Century is at least a century of origins, that its history is not a thing to be passed over as unimportant, that, if not the very greatest, at least it is one of the greatest, that the world has ever known.

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The Happiness of Being A Catholic

MGR. M. BESSON, BISHOP OF LAUSANNE-GENEVA-FRIBOURG

TRANSLATED BY V. J. MATTHEWS

PRIEST OF THE LONDON ORATORY

INDEX

WHEN we call to mind the many gifts and benefits for which we have to thank God, it is only right that the principal place among them should be given to the fact that He has made us Catholics. In calling us of His pure mercy to be members of His worldwide family, the Church, God has given us a grace of so great value that, if we could but appreciate it at its true worth, we should find in it alone motives for boundless gratitude.

At a time when everything seems to warn us of the approaching end if not of the world at least of a world, since so much of what we have been accustomed to look upon as final and unalterable is now either being transformed or crumbling to pieces, no happiness can equal his who is secure in his reliance on that Church against which not even the gates of hell can prevail.* Now, as at all the great turning-points of history, the Church is suffering in the persons of her members, because the spirit of evil is working everywhere with a peculiar energy; but in the midst of searching trials she remains very much alive, to pursue unremittingly the task committed to her of giving to all who do not refuse to accept them the commandments of Christ, which are the Way, the doctrine of Christ, which is the Truth, and the grace of Christ, which is the Life.

There are many pressing anxieties which preoccupy our minds and weigh upon them; but without in any sense overlooking either the blessings which recent progress in the arts and sciences has in some respects brought us, or the evils which are at once a blot on our civilization and a menace to its continued existence, it will be worth our while to consider for a moment the incomparable happiness which is ours, in time and in eternity, as children of the Catholic Church.

We are happy to be Catholics, in the first place, because the Church safeguards and explains to us the Word of God contained in the Old and New Testaments-the whole Word of God, which was the trust committed to her charge by Jesus Christ, her Founder. The Church exists to proclaim to the world the divine revelation made to mankind first by Jesus Christ and then by the apostles. The duty of the Church is to preserve this revelation in all its purity, and to explain it unerringly. As the Council of the Vatican says,’The Holy Spirit was not promised to the successors of St Peter in order that by His inspiration they might reveal some new doctrine, but that by His assistance they might keep uncontaminated the deposit of faith transmitted through the apostles, and expound it faithfully.’

The Church is not, and does not claim to set herself, above the Word of God; those who charge her with any such pretensions give proof of an ignorance for which there is very little excuse. For already St Francis de Sales, replying to one such objector, has remarked that it is not Holy Scripture that needs to have light thrown upon it by the Church, but rather the many human interpretations, explanations and commentaries upon Scripture. It is not a question of whether God understands Scripture better than we, but of whether the adversaries of the Church, ancient or modern, understand it better than the Pontiffs and Fathers of the Church, who represent the authentic Christian tradition. Bossuet makes precisely the same distinction:’We do not say,’ he writes, ‘that it is for the Church to judge the Word of God; but we do assert that it is for her to judge the various interpretations that men have put upon the Word of God.’

The Church, it need scarcely be said, has never kept the Bible concealed from her children. She gives them all the best and most essential passages of it in the text of her liturgy, in the books of her theologians, and in the works of her artists. She encourages the faithful to read it, provided that they use duly authorised editions, with such notes as may be necessary to explain difficult passages. St Peter himself, as we read in the New Testament, remarks that the epistles of St Paul contain’certain things hard to be understood, which the unlearned and unstable wrest, as they do also the other scriptures, to their own destruction.’** We therefore thank God for the authoritative teaching of the Church, which has kept intact all * cf. Matt. xvi. 18 ** 2 Pet. iii. I5–16 the inspired books, without sacrificing a syllable to satisfy human caprice, and has kept also the true meaning of their contents, without having to be continually searching for some interpretation which will be acceptable to the minds of the newest generation. Thanks to her, therefore, we are not’children tossed to and fro, and carried about with every wind of doctrine,’ but, rich in the possession of the truth, we can grow continually in charity, in union with ‘Him who is the head, even Christ.’* Christ is our Head; and He alone is necessary to us. He is the centre of all things, and the sole end of the Church’s teaching is to give Him to us. Her essential task, towards which all her instructions, all her prohibitions and commands are directed, is to bring us into contact with Christ-with the Person of Christ known in His divinity and His humanity, with the grace of Christ, which the sacraments produce in our souls, with the friends of Christ, His blessed Mother and the Saints, with the supreme power of Christ, delegated to His apostles and their successors, with the suffering members of Christ, in whose persons, as they pass us by labouring under their crosses, we recognise the likeness, though sometimes disfigured, of Christ Himself.

We are happy to be Catholics because the Church is in a true sense the guardian of Christ Himself. Recall for a moment the scene which St Matthew describes for us in the sixteenth chapter of his Gospel. Far from Galilee, which He will not see again till He passes through it to go and die in Jerusalem, Our Lord is on His way to Caesarea Philippi, and is traversing lonely villages, which do not know Him, nor show any interest in Him as he converses with His disciples. At a certain point He asks them,’Whom do men say that the Son of Man is?’ ‘Some John the Baptist, and others Elias, and others Jeremias, or one of the prophets,’ is the answer. ‘And whom do you say that I am?’ Our Lord asks, and Simon, answering in the name of all, says:’Thou art the Christ, the Son of the living God.’ ‘Blessed art thou, Simon, son of Jona,’ Our Lord replies,’because flesh and blood hath not revealed it to thee, but my Father, who is in heaven. And I say to thee that thou art Peter, and upon this rock I will build my church.’

Certain Popes have been accused of many weaknesses, many crimes even. That in a number of cases the charges are well founded we admit; and the enemies of the Church are welcome to what matter for rejoicing they may find in the admission. But the Roman Pontiffs have one glory, their title to which no one in the whole course of history has ever dared to dispute-the glory of having always safeguarded, of having preached consistently and uncompromisingly the doctrine of the divinity of Christ, following in this the grand example of him whose lawful successors they are.

To justify a claim to the name of Christian it is not enough that we should regard Jesus Christ in the same light as John the Baptist, or Elias, or Jeremias, or one of the prophets, or even as a prophet greater than all other prophets. Nor is it enough to profess a devotion to Jesus Christ without having any clear idea as to who He is, on the grounds that this is something incomprehensible and mysterious. It is a matter of common sense that we cannot love without knowing what we love; and this truth has all the more force in relation to Jesus Christ, since the love which we ought to have for Him is not comparable in any respect with other loves. We may find happiness in the companionship of sympathetic friends; we may admire great-hearted men and women who seem to approach our ideal of human perfection; but our feelings towards Jesus Christ are of an entirely different order. We love our parents; we are irresistibly attracted to such men as St Francis of Assisi or St Thomas More; but the love, joined with reverence that we have for them cannot be of identically the same kind as that which we have for Christ.’Whom do you say that I am?’ The question presents itself whether we will or no, and demands a precise answer. For nineteen centuries the Catholic Church has been giving the answer to those who are willing to listen: it is the answer of the Gospels, and of the Gospels neither robbed of their true meaning to fit the latest theories of the critics, nor explained away to render them easier of acceptance by the modern mind in its curious aberrations.

The Church has been accused of setting a barrier between the soul and Christ, of making herself rather than our Redeemer the object of popular devotion. But both personal experience and the testimony of those who are sincere and loyal Catholics proves exactly the contrary to be the truth-that the Church, by defending correct notions about Christ’s Person against those who, sometimes with the best intentions, pervert them, is in actual fact helping us to live freely united with Him. This union would be impossible if we had no clear idea who Christ really is: to say that anyone can live * Eph. iv. 14–15. united with Him without knowing whether He is God or a mere man, is no more reasonable than to say that it is all the same to a mother whether she clasps in her arms the child she has brought into the world, or the doll she used to play with as a little girl. Only those who are prepared to declare unhesitatingly that’the Word was made flesh and dwelt among us’ can attach any real meaning to the words of St John:’God so loved the world as to give His only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in Him may not perish but may have life everlasting.’* This is what the apostles preached,’to the Jews a stumbling block, and to the gentiles foolishness’**: this is what they sealed with their blood, because what is foolishness in the eyes of men is wisdom with God.*** We, too, then, have cause to thank God that, in the midst of the uncertainties and hesitations of modern thought, while so many are seeking and, unhappily, failing to find, the Church has preserved intact for us the dogma of the divinity of Christ.

We are happy to be Catholics because the Church has been a faithful guardian of the sacraments instituted by Our Lord Jesus Christ to give grace to our souls and to maintain it in them. It is impossible in so short a space to pass in review all the seven sacraments, and to show the place they hold, or ought to hold, in the life of the individual, of the family, and of society; but we must speak shortly at least about what, as Catholics, we call’the Blessed Sacrament,’ the Holy Eucharist.

When Our Lord, in the discourse which St John has recorded for us in the sixth chapter of his Gospel, promised the institution of the Eucharist in terms which leave no possible doubt about the real presence, some of his hearers, unable to believe his words,’went back and walked no more with Him,’ whereupon Our Lord turned to His apostles and said:’Will you also go?’ And Peter-it is always he who speaks in the name of the rest-replied:’Lord, to whom else shall we go? Thou hast the words of eternal life.’ In our times there are still many who refuse to accept the doctrine of the real presence. The Church has always maintained it, and we believe it because she teaches it; but it gives us a still deeper sense of security when we read the Gospels and find that the Church’s doctrine is so perfectly in harmony with the very words spoken by Our Lord, and that it is in absolute agreement with the teaching of representative Christian thinkers of the earliest ages.

Those who reject the doctrine of the real presence cannot logically admit that of the Incarnation. For if it is not unreasonable to believe that the Son of God took a body and soul like ours for love of us, it is no more unreasonable to believe that this same Son of God, urged by the same love, remains with us always under the outward veils of the Blessed Sacrament. In willing that His Son should come into this world and spend thirty years as a working man in a humble village, that He should die on the cross like a criminal to save the human race, God did a thing no less extraordinary than in decreeing that His Son should dwell till the end of time really present in the Sacrament of His love. Those who refuse to take literally the words,’This is my body’ cannot consistently understand in their literal sense the words of the text: ‘The Word was made flesh.’ And if anyone no longer believes that the Word was made flesh, and has the courage to say so frankly, it is difficult to see in what sense he continues to be a Christian.

We believe that after the consecration Our Lord is really present under the appearances of bread and wine. We believe that in this’mystery of faith’ He offers Himself to His heavenly Father with the same love, with the same intentions, with which He offered Himself on the cross, so that the sacrifice of the Mass is one sacrifice with that of Calvary, without which, needless to say, it (the Mass) would have no value. We believe this because the Church teaches it; for it is always on the authority of the Church that our faith ultimately rests. St Augustine says that he would not believe the Gospels themselves except on the authority of the Catholic Church. We believe, and we are ready by God’s grace rather to die than deny it, that when we receive Holy Communion we receive, as our spiritual food, the Creator of all things, the sovereign Lord of the world, the Being of infinite Goodness, who calls to Him all who suffer, the Being of infinite Power, whose desire is to strengthen all who are weak, the sovereign judge, on whose decree our eternal destiny depends.

This is a very wonderful thing, and if our faith were only more deep and real we should find in Holy Communion strength enough to resist the most harassing temptations, and courage enough to endure the hardest trials. If anyone comes to Communion not as a routine act or a formality, but with sincere faith and in response to Our Lord’s desire that he should come, if he receives the sacred Host not as something but as someone, he can say that he is never alone. His day, * John iii. 16. ** I Cor. i. 23–25. *** Cf. I Cor, iii. 19. even if it is wholly occupied with humble and laborious duties, is divinized, so to speak, by the grace of Christ: it is with Him that he prays, with Him that he works and suffers, with Him that he tastes the joys which divine Providence never entirely withholds from even the most unhappy. All his thoughts, his words, and his actions become holy thoughts, words, and actions, because it is no longer he that lives, but Christ lives in him.* During our life here on earth we have plenty of causes for sadness, plenty of anxieties, plenty of cares: would that we could realise more fully that in the Holy Eucharist God has given us something which, if it does not alter the fact that this life is a time of trial, at least renders our troubles bearable, and sometimes, as many can testify from experience, transfuses them with supernatural joy.

The joy of Communion makes us think of another joy, one which often, but not always, precedes it -that of confession. How much those are to be pitied who look upon confession as a burdensome obligation that must be fulfilled at a particular time in order to obey a precept of the Church. It is another debt of gratitude that we owe to the Church that she has preserved for us the true meaning of the words:’Whose sins ye shall forgive they are forgiven.’ Of course it is of God we ask forgiveness; the Church has always taught that without sincere inward repentance no absolution is valid, no forgiveness is obtained. It is therefore before God that the soul must humble itself and repent, independently of any intermediary; it is from God Himself that the sinner receives the word which heals and brings peace; it is in God that the sinner finds peace again. But as God makes use of our parents to give us physical life, so does He make use of a spiritual father to give us back the supernatural life. And how good it is after stumblings and falls to feel a hand that raises us in God’s name, to hear a voice that assures us in His name that we are forgiven.

We are happy to be Catholics because the Church teaches us to live not only with Christ, but with those special friends of His, the Angels and Saints. We find immense comfort in the companionship of those Saints whom our forefathers invoked, who travelled by the road by which we are now travelling, who worked and prayed in the places where we work and pray, whose names, many of them, are perpetuated in the names of our towns and streets. No Catholic imagines that they can take the place of Our Lord, that they would be anything without Him; but we do not forget that their charity towards their fellow creatures is no less ardent now that they are in heaven than it was when they were on earth. They help us because they are still our brothers in Christ, just as Mary, the Mother of Jesus, is our mother.

Of course, if Jesus were only man the Blessed Virgin would have no title to those honours which we pay her. But Jesus is truly the Son of God, the Word made flesh, and that is why she in whose womb that flesh was formed is set above all other creatures and below God alone. Mary is the means by which God has given us Christ, by which He has given us supernatural life; for Christ is our life; and therefore Mary is, in the order of grace, truly our mother. From these premises we draw the conclusions contained in them, and rejoice to apply to ourselves the words spoken by Our Lord on the point of consummating His sacrifice, when He turned His eyes towards Mary at the foot of the cross and said to His apostle, St John:’Behold thy mother.’

We know that the motherhood of Mary extends beyond the beloved disciple to include all of us. We see her tenderly solicitous for others at the marriage of Cana; and although she makes no more than a discreet suggestion, and He manifests a semblance of unwillingness, we know that it was Mary’s words to her Son that called forth this first miracle, by which Our Lord designed at once to come to the assistance of some poor people in a difficulty and to confirm the faith of His apostles. The Blessed Virgin showed then, as she continues to show day by day, that she understood the meaning of Our Lord’s words, so simple in themselves and so consoling to us,’Behold thy son.’

Since the Gospels tell us that there is rejoicing in heaven over one sinner who returns to God** we are sure that the Saints are not selfishly wrapped up in their glory, so to speak, but concern themselves about us, exiles and sinners as we are. We believe that the Blessed Virgin in particular must rejoice to see us faithful to Christ, and that she cannot remain unmoved when she sees us falling, or in danger of falling into sin, and thus rendering of no effect for our souls the precious Blood which Christ shed for us on Calvary, the Blood which He took from her. Firm in this certainty which nothing can shake, since it comes to us across the ages from so many holy men and women who believed as we believe, in every event of our lives we turn to the Mother of God, who is also our mother, to tell her of our troubles and joys, to ask * Cf. Gal. ii. 20. ** Cf. Luke xv. 7–10 her to pray for us and with us. And since where two or three are gathered to pray* Christ our Lord is in a special manner present, even in solitude we find ourselves always in an atmosphere of immense tenderness, because we have with us the Mother of Christ and the Saints, who are her special friends, all of us members of one vast family, which is bounded neither by space nor by time.

Those who have no experience of what this means profess to pity us. It seems to them that our devotion to Our Lady and the Saints must be an obstacle to us on our way to God, while actually it leads us to Him with quicker and surer step. It is Christ whom we worship as our only Saviour; it is His Heart with which we desire to unite our own, and without Him, though we had all the Saints in heaven with us, we should be lost and beyond all hope. But it is precisely because of his deep love for Christ that a Catholic finds it impossible for him to adopt a distant attitude, as though they were strangers, towards the Mother who brought Him into the world, or those who are in a special sense His brethren, because they served Him with exceptional faithfulness.

We are not ashamed to commend to Our Blessed Lady even our most commonplace cares, for she did not disdain to come to the help of some worthy people who happened to run short of wine. But what we ask of her above all is that, having once given Jesus to us, she would help us to keep Him in our hearts and make Him grow in us, to love Him with all our hearts, and so to follow Him from the crib to the cross and from the cross to heaven.

We are happy to be Catholics because the Church has a visible head who can always give us sure guidance, whether on matters of doctrine or on points of practical conduct. In the midst of the confusion of ideas and principles that surrounds us, the existence of this supreme authority seems to us, now more than ever, a matter for profound thankfulness.

Others think otherwise, principally because the dust of centuries of controversy has obscured the splendour of this truth. If they would only judge of the doctrine as it is authentically explained by Catholics themselves, they would see that its implications are quite other than they imagine them to be.

We say that the Pope is infallible, that is, that by the special assistance of the Holy Spirit he cannot make a mistake when he speaks as head of the Church on matters of faith or morals; but we have never said that this infallibility extends to all his words, or to his actions. For infallibility is not the same as impeccability: the Pope can sin like any other man.

We are proud of the holiness of life which has characterised many of the great Popes of modern times, but we can admit the moral failings of certain Popes in past centuries, and lament them, without being in the least shaken by the fact that they occurred. These instances of human weakness cannot be imputed to the Church as such, whose doctrine sanctifies those who follow it faithfully, but certainly cannot sanctify those who voluntarily depart from it.

We say that the Catholic Church is Roman, but with the knowledge that membership of the Roman Church does not prevent the faithful from being loyally devoted to their own country, and that the visible head of the Church, with a breadth of spirit greater than many suspect, has a due regard for all that is good in the legitimate traditions of different nations.’The Roman Church,’ St Leo IX says, ‘knows well that diversity of custom according to difference of time and place is no obstacle to the spiritual well-being of the faithful, so long as one faith, working by charity, makes them all pleasing to the one God.’

When we say that the Pope is the head of the Church we do not mean that he takes the place of Jesus Christ, as though he were some sort of substitute for Him. Christ our Lord continues to rule His Church until the end of time: the Pope has only a delegated power. To speak as though among Christians there could be some owning obedience to Christ and others to the Pope is to impute to Catholicism a conception that is wholly foreign to it. We obey the Pope because we wish to obey Christ; we submit to the authority of the Pope because we believe it to have been instituted by Christ: ‘Following none but Christ,’ St Jerome wrote to Pope St Damasus, ‘I join myself to you, that is,to the chair of Peter.’

When we go to Rome, the centre of Catholicism, what strikes us and stirs us is not the splendour of the pontifical palaces, nor the dignity of the papal court; it is not even the majesty of the great basilicas or the beauty of the solemn ceremonies; it is the fact that there, in the City of the Vatican, so small in territorial extent and so great in what it stands for, there lives one who is the guardian of a doctrine, the fact that this man is regarded as their chief pastor, and that this * Matt. xviii. 20. doctrine is held as true, by men innumerable from all the nations of the world. Governments are anxious to send their diplomatic representatives to the Vatican because there exists there an authority that is on a higher plane than any other authority, and because, in spite of all efforts to stifle his utterances or to misrepresent them, the Pope’s words carry further than the words of any other living man. Even at times when circumstances make their journey very difficult, pilgrims throng round the Pope, differing in race, colour, speech, and condition, but united in the same faith and in the same desire to receive a blessing which they know to be the pledge of the divine blessing, and to hear a voice which they know can bring peace and light, because it comes from the successor of St Peter, upon whom Christ built His Church. Tu es Petrus are the words we read at the base of the dome of St Peter’s:’Thou art Peter’-this is the secret of Rome’s attraction.

The servitude that this obedience to the Pope constitutes, the constraint that it imposes, exist only in the imaginations of our adversaries and on the lips of apostates. But why should the testimony of a few unhappy renegades be accepted in preference to that of the hundreds of thousands who have remained faithful, or who, after a time of wandering, have returned as prodigals to their Father’s house? The most terrible slavery is that of those who are enslaved to ignorance and error, and it is precisely from this slavery that the authority of the Pope sets us free. And when we see the hopeless confusion of those who pity us for being led by authority, we are all the more thankful to that Providence which has given us a way of seeing clearly and walking securely.’How good it is,’ an illustrious Catholic of the last century said, ‘to love You, my God, while others are discussing You!’

We are happy to be Catholics because by her consoling doctrine of the Communion of Saints the Church teaches us to remain in contact not only with the elect in heaven, who pray with and for us, but also with the poor souls in purgatory, who are there paying the debt of punishment due to sins which have been forgiven. There is much to comfort us in the thought that by our prayers and sacrifices, by the willing acceptance of suffering, by good works and acts of self-denial we can help the dead-those we have known and loved, and also those we never knew who, perhaps, like the paralytic in the Gospel,* have no one to stretch out a hand to them. Our Lord tells us to give alms to the poor, that when we die they may receive us into everlasting dwellings,** and there are no poor more worthy of sympathy than the souls in purgatory, no alms more precious than our prayers for them. As the years pass and the shadows lengthen on our road, as we begin to feel more lonely in a world that is no longer the world of our childhood, we begin to realise more and more clearly what a wealth of comfort there is in the thought that our dead are always invisibly present to us, that we can share our spiritual treasures with them while we await the day when we shall be united with them for ever in the presence of God.

But while the Church teaches us to live in close communion with the faithful departed, it is her will that we should also show ourselves charitable and generous towards our fellow men here on earth. She teaches us, further, that by so doing we can merit for ourselves an eternal reward. The term’merit’ is, unfortunately, one which has been attacked by controversialists without understanding what we mean by it. They accuse us of sacrificing grace to human merit, of claiming to save ourselves instead of believing in salvation through Christ. Yet the Church insists, and has always insisted, that without grace we cannot have so much as a single thought that has any value towards salvation, that our love of God is itself a wholly gratuitous gift, since He must first have loved us while we were displeasing to Him in order to give us the means of pleasing Him, and that without an impulse from the Holy Spirit a man is incapable of believing, of hoping, of loving and repenting as he must do to obtain justification. She lays it down that if anyone asserts that a man can be justified by his works without the grace given by Jesus Christ, he is anathema, that is, cut off from the Catholic communion. These words are a faithful commentary on Our Lord’s words,’Without me you can do nothing.***’

This theoretical instruction is borne out by the practice of the Church in a variety of ways, amongst others by the words she uses in her liturgy. She teaches us to say to Almighty God that we rely only on the help of His grace, that it is by His gift that He is worthily and faithfully served by His people, that His grace must both go before us and follow us, that without Him we cannot please Him, that it is the death of Our Lord which gives us the hope of receiving that in which we believe.**** It is therefore impossible for anyone to maintain in good faith that we set our own merits in the place of the * John v. 7. ** Cf. Luke xvi. 9 *** John xv. 5. **** Cf. Collects for 5th Sunday after Epiphany, 12th, 16th, and 18th Sundays after Pentecost, and Palm Sunday. merits of Jesus Christ. What we do assert is, that once a man has been justified by grace, incorporated in the mystical body of Christ and made the son and heir of God, his acts of virtue are then really meritorious, not because of any human value in them independently of Christ, but because of the grace of Christ in him, so that his merit is itself a gift of God.’When God crowns your merits,’ St Augustine says, ‘He does but crown His own gifts.’ Eternal life is given to us in view of our merits; yet since our merits do not come from ourselves but are the fruits of grace in us, eternal life is itself a grace: it is a free gift not because it is given to those who have no merits, but because merit itself is a gift.

This being so, if we wish to perform meritorious actions in loving our neighbours, helping them in their needs and treating them as we should wish to be treated ourselves, we must show charity towards them not because we find them personally sympathetic, or because we owe them a debt of gratitude, but because Christ has said:’As long as you did it to one of these my least brethren you did it to me’*. We must love our brethren for the love of God; we must wish even our enemies well, even those who ill-treat and persecute us, because Christ has laid this obligation upon us. And if it is a hard thing to do, we must take courage from the thought that by fulfilling this command of Our Lord we can store up riches in heaven, which rust cannot destroy nor robbers carry away.** Again and again the Gospels hold up to our eyes the eternal reward of our good deeds, and not least among our reasons for being thankful for our membership of the Catholic Church is that she leaves us in no doubt whatever about either the reward assured to those who fulfil their duty, or the punishment which awaits those who die wilfully separated from God.

A clear realisation of the sanctions attached to the divine law, which comforts the just by reminding them that ‘the sufferings of this time are not worthy to be compared with the glory to come,***’ and will not suffer sinners to forget Our Lord’s warning that it is better to sacrifice an eye or a hand than to risk falling into the gehenna of fire, this alone can give the right orientation to our lives. The Church in her preaching insists upon this truth which the world would like to forget, while at the same time she repeats continually that Christian charity which merits an eternal reward is an essentially different thing from mere philanthropy. We must dedicate ourselves to the service of our neighbour, but in the person of our neighbour we must see Christ, who, in the words of an ancient writer, appears before our eyes as the Poor Man, the one true poor man, who suffers in the persons of all the poor upon earth.

This is the Church ‘s teaching: this theory of charity (which of course presupposes the fulfilment of all the obligations that justice lays upon us) is the basis of the Church’s social doctrine. And if all of us did indeed see Christ himself in the person of our neighbour, our attitude towards him would necessarily be wholly different from what in actual fact it only too often is: all our social problems, even the most complicated of them, would be solved as though by magic or rather no such problems would arise to require a solution.

To sum up, we are happy to be Catholics because, in spite of the human weaknesses and sins of many of her members, in spite of abuses that in certain periods of history have disfigured her, the Church has never ceased to exercise her divine mission. Thanks to her teaching we have true and precise notions concerning the Person of Jesus Christ; we have in the sacraments the founts of Christ’s sanctifying power; we honour in the Blessed Virgin and the Saints a reflection of Christ’s sanctity; we acknowledge in the Pope an authority delegated to him by Christ; in the poor, living or dead, we love the suffering members of Christ. Christ with the Church as His sentinel always on guard-this is the unshakable ground of our hope and our joy, the pledge of our happiness on earth and in heaven. Since the Son of God has loved us enough to lay aside His glory and be born into this world for our sakes, since He heals and strengthens us by the sacraments, and dwells always in our midst in the Blessed Sacrament, since He has given us His blessed Mother for our mother, and continues by the voice of the Sovereign Pontiff to show us the way by which we must walk, we have no fears for the future, however dark it may appear.

‘ No riches, no treasures, no honours can equal in value the priceless possession of the Catholic faith,’ are the words of a sermon attributed to St Augustine, which might equally well have been spoken by St Francis of Assisi, whose will was ‘in all things and above all things to hold fast, to honour, and to practise the faith of the Roman Church.’ And there are many great and noble souls who have expressed the same thought in almost the same words. Pascal himself, in spite of * Matt. xxv. 40. ** Cf. Luke xii. 33. *** Rom. viii. 18. unorthodox tendencies, understood the value of Catholic orthodoxy: ‘Thanks be to God,’ he said, ‘that I am attached to nothing on earth, except to the one Church, Catholic, Apostolic and Roman, in which I desire to live and to die , . . I will never separate myself from her communion, at least I beg God for the grace never to do so, for outside it I should be lost for ever.’ From such men we may learn to appreciate our own privileges in being Catholics.

According to St Augustine, ‘the Church pursues her way amid persecutions from the world and consolations from God’; and these latter recompense her for the former. We must never lose confidence: the prince of darkness cannot but hate the light, but in the light of the Church we shall find peace. The fact of being Catholics does not transform our lives into a kind of earthly paradise, where pain and sorrow are no longer felt. But if we appreciate the grace that God has given us in making us members of the Church, and do our best to correspond generously with this grace, then we shall feel the deprivation of any temporal good things less, because we shall care more for good things of a higher order. We shall spread more joy around us, and, because we have a truer sense of the relative value of things here, we shall find a greater measure of happiness in this life, while yet we expect perfect happiness only in that which is to come.

********

The History of Lent

FROM “THE LITURGICAL YEAR”

BY DOM GUERANGER

INDEX

THE forty days’ fast, which we call Lent,[1] is the Church’s preparation for Easter, and was instituted at the very commencement of Christianity. Our blessed Lord Himself sanctioned it by fasting forty days and forty nights in the desert; and though He would not impose it on the world by an express commandment (which, in that case, could not have been open to the power of dispensation), yet He showed plainly enough, by His own example, that fasting, which God had so frequently ordered in the old Law, was to be also practiced by the children of the new.

The disciples of St. John the Baptist came, one day, to Jesus, and said to Him: ‘Why do we and the pharisees fast often, but Thy disciples do not fast?’ And Jesus said to them: ‘Can the children of the Bridegroom mourn, as long as the Bridegroom is with them? But the days will come, when the Bridegroom shall be taken away from them, and then they shall fast.’[2]

Hence we find it mentioned, in the Acts of the Apostles, how the disciples of our Lord, after the foundation of the Church, applied themselves to fasting. In their Epistles, also, they recommended it to the faithful. Nor could it be otherwise. Though the divine mysteries whereby our Savior wrought our redemption have been consummated, yet are we still sinners: and where there is sin, there must be expiation.

The apostles, therefore, legislated for our weakness, by instituting, at the very commencement of the Christian Church, that the solemnity of Easter should be preceded by a universal fast; and it was only natural that they should have made this period of penance to consist of forty days, seeing that our divine Master had consecrated that number by His own fast. St. Jerome,[3] St. Leo the Great,[4] St. Cyril of Alexandria,[5] St. Isidore of Seville,[6] and others of the holy fathers, assure us that Lent was instituted by the apostles, although, at the commencement, there was not any uniform way of observing it.

We have already seen, in our ‘Septuagesima,’ that the Orientals begin their Lent much earlier than the Latins, owing to their custom of never fasting on Saturdays (or, in some places, even on Thursdays). They are, consequently, obliged, in order to make up the forty days, to begin the Lenten fast on the Monday preceding our Sexagesima Sunday. Exceptions of this kind do but prove the rule. We have also shown how the Latin Church-which, even so late as the sixth century, kept only thirty-six fasting days during the six weeks of Lent (for the Church has never allowed Sundays to be kept as days of fast)-thought proper to add, later on, the last four days of Quinquagesima, in order that her Lent might contain exactly forty days of fast.

The whole subject of Lent has been so often and so fully treated that we shall abridge, as much as possible, the history we are now giving. The nature of our work forbids us to do more than insert what is essential for entering into the spirit of each season. God grant that we may succeed in showing to the faithful the importance of the holy institution of Lent! Its influence on the spiritual life, and on the very salvation, of each one among us, can never be over-rated.

Lent, then, is a time consecrated in an especial manner to penance; and this penance is mainly practiced by fasting. Fasting is an abstinence, which man voluntarily imposes upon himself as an expiation for sin, and which, during Lent, is practiced in obedience to the general law of the Church. According to the actual discipline of the western Church, the fast of Lent is not more rigorous than that prescribed for the vigils of certain feasts, and for the Ember Days; but it is kept up for forty successive days, with the single interruption of the intervening Sundays.

We deem it unnecessary to show the importance and advantages of fasting. The sacred Scriptures, both of the old and new Testament, are filled with the praises of this holy practice. The traditions of every nation of the world testify the universal veneration in which it has ever been held; for there is not a people or a religion, how much soever it may have lost the purity of primitive traditions, which is not impressed with this conviction-that man may appease his God by subjecting his body to penance.

St. Basil, St. John Chrysostom, St. Jerome, and St. Gregory the Great, make the remark, that the commandment put upon our first parents in the earthly paradise was one of abstinence; and that it was by their not exercising this virtue, that they brought every kind of evil upon themselves and upon us their children. The life of privation, which the kind of creation had thenceforward to lead on the earth (for the earth was to yield him nothing of its own natural growth, save thorns and thistles), was the clearest possible exemplification of the law of penance imposed by the anger of God on rebellious man.

During the two thousand and more years, which preceded the deluge, men had no other food than the fruits of the earth, and these were obtained only by the toil of hard labor. But when God, as we have already observed, mercifully shortened man’s life that so he might have less time and power for sin, He permitted him to eat the flesh of animals, as an additional nourishment in that state of deteriorated strength. It was then, also, that Noah, guided by a divine inspiration, extracted the juice of the grape, which thus formed a second stay for human debility.

Fasting, then, is abstinence from such nourishments as these, which were permitted for the support of bodily strength. And firstly, it consists in abstinence from flesh-meat, because this food was given to man by God out of condescension to his weakness, and not as one absolutely essential for the maintenance of life. Its privation, greater or less according to the regulations of the Church, is essential to the very notion of fasting. For many centuries eggs and milk-meats were not allowed, because they come under the class of animal food; even to this day they are forbidden in the eastern Churches.

In the early ages of Christianity, fasting included also abstinence from wine, as we learn from St. Cyril of Jerusalem,[7] St. Basil,[8] St. John Chrysostom,[9] Theophilus of Alexandria,[10] and others. In the west, this custom soon fell into disuse. The eastern Christians kept it up much longer, but even with them it has ceased to be considered as obligatory.

Lastly, fasting includes the depriving ourselves of some portion of our ordinary food, inasmuch as it allows only one meal during the day. Though the modifications introduced from age to age in the discipline of Lent are very numerous, yet the points we have here mentioned belong to the very essence of fasting, as is evident from the universal practice of the Church.

It was the custom with the Jews, in the old Law, not to take the one meal, allowed on fasting days, till sunset. The Christian Church adopted the same custom. It was scrupulously practiced, for many centuries, even in our western countries. But about the ninth century some relaxation began to be introduced in the Latin Church. Thus we have a capitularium of Theodulph, bishop of Orleans, who lived at that period, protesting against the practice, which some had, of taking their repast at the hour of None, that is to say, about three o’clock in the afternoon.[11] The relaxation, however, gradually spread; for, in the tenth century, we find the celebrated Ratherius, bishop of Verona, acknowledging that the faithful had permission to break their fast at the hour of None.[12] We meet with a sort of reclamation made as late as the eleventh century, by a Council held at Rouen, which forbids the faithful to take their repast before Vespers shall have been begun in the church, at the end of None;[13] but this shows us that the custom had already begun of anticipating the hour of Vespers, in order that the faithful might take their meal earlier in the day.

Up to within a short period before this time, it had been the custom not to celebrate Mass, on days of fasting, until the Office of None had been sung, which was about three o’clock in the afternoon; and, also, not to sing Vespers till sunset. When the discipline regarding fasting began to relax, the Church still retained the order of her Offices, which had been handed down from the earliest times. The only change she made was to anticipate the hour for Vespers; and this entailed the celebration of Mass and None much earlier in the day; so early, indeed, that, when custom had so prevailed as to authorize the faithful taking their repast at midday, all the Offices, even the Vespers, were over before that hour.

In the twelfth century, the custom of breaking one’s fast at the hour of None everywhere prevailed, as we learn from Hugh of Saint-Victor;[14] and in the thirteenth century, it was sanctioned by the teaching of the Schoolmen. Alexander Hales declares most expressly that such a custom was lawful;[15] and St. Thomas of Aquin is equally decided in the same opinion.[16]

But even the fast till None -i.e., three o’clock-was found too severe; and a still further relaxation was considered to be necessary. At the close of the thirteenth century, we have the celebrated Franciscan, Richard of Middleton, teaching that those who break their fast at the hour of Sext-i.e., midday-are not to be considered as transgressing the precept of the Church; and the reason he gives is this: that the custom of doing so had already prevailed in many places, and that fasting does not consist so much in the lateness of the hour at which the faithful take their refreshment, as in their taking but one meal during the twenty-four hours.[17]

The fourteenth century gave weight, both by universal custom and theological authority, to the opinion held by Richard of Middleton. It will, perhaps, suffice if we quote the learned Dominican, Durandus, bishop of Meaux, who says that there can be no doubt as to the lawfulness of taking one’s repast at midday; and he adds that such was then the custom observed by the Pope, and Cardinals, and even the religious Orders.[18] We cannot, therefore, be surprised at finding this opinion maintained, in the fifteenth century, by such grave authors as St. Antoninus, Cardinal Cajetan, and others. Alexander Eales and St. Thomas sought to prevent the relaxation going beyond the hour of None; but their zeal was disappointed, and the present discipline was established, we might almost say, during their lifetime.

But whilst this relaxation of taking the repast so early in the day as twelve o’clock rendered fasting less difficult in one way, it made it more severe in another. The body grew exhausted by the labors of the long second half of the twenty-four hours; and the meal, that formerly closed the day, and satisfied the cravings of fatigue, had been already taken. It was found necessary to grant some refreshment for the evening, and it was called a <collation.> The word was taken from the Benedictine rule, which, for long centuries before this change in the Lenten observance, had allowed a monastic collation. St. Benedict’s rule prescribed a great many fasts, over and above the ecclesiastical fast of Lent; but it made this great distinction between the two: that whilst Lent obliged the monks, as well as the rest of the faithful, to abstain from food till sunset, these monastic fasts allowed the repast to be taken at the hour of None. But, as the monks had heavy manual labor during the summer and autumn months (which was the very time when these fasts till None occurred several days of each week, and, indeed, every day from September 14), the abbot was allowed by the rule to grant his religious permission to take a small measure of wine before Compline, as a refreshment after the fatigues of the afternoon. It was taken by all at the same time, during the evening reading which was called conference (in Latin, <collatio>) because it was mostly taken from the celebrated ‘Conferences’ (<Collationes>) of Cassian. Hence this evening monastic refreshment took the name of collation.

We find the Assembly, or Chapter of Aix-la-Chapelle, held in 817, extending this indulgence even to the lenten fast, on account of the great fatigue entailed by the offices, which the monks had to celebrate during this holy season. But experience showed that, unless something solid were allowed to be taken together with the wine, the evening collation would be an injury to the health of many of the religious; accordingly, towards the close of the fourteenth or the beginning of the fifteenth century, the usage was introduced of taking a morsel of bread with the collationbeverage.

As a matter of course, these mitigations of the ancient severity of fasting soon found their way from the cloister into the world. The custom of taking something to drink on fasting days, out of the time of the repast, was gradually established; and even so early as the thirteenth century, we have St. Thomas of Aquin discussing the question, whether or not drink is to be considered as a breaking of the precept of fasting.[19] He answers in the negative; and yet he does not allow that anything solid may be taken with the drink. But when it had become the universal practice (as it did in the latter part of the thirteenth century, and still more fixedly during the whole of the fourteenth) that the one meal on fasting days was taken at midday, a mere beverage was found insufficient to give support, and bread, herbs, fruits, etc., were added. Such was the practice, both in the world and in the cloister. It was, however, clearly understood by all, that these eatables were not to be taken in such quantity as to turn the collation into a second meal.

Thus did the decay of piety, and the general deterioration of bodily strength among the people of the western nations, infringe on the primitive observance of fasting. To make our history of these humiliating changes anything like complete, we must mention one more relaxation. For several centuries, abstinence from flesh-meat included likewise the prohibition of all animal food, with the single exception of fish, which, on account of its cold nature, as also for several mystical reasons, founded on the sacred Scriptures, was always permitted to be taken by those who fasted. Every sort of milk-meat was forbidden.

Dating from the ninth century, the custom of eating milk-meats during Lent began to be prevalent in western Europe, more especially in Germany and the northern countries. The Council of Kedlimberg, held in the eleventh century, made an effort to put a stop to the practice as an abuse; but without effect.[20] These Churches maintained that they were in the right, and defended their custom by the dispensations (though, in reality, only temporary ones) granted them by several sovereign Pontiffs: the dispute ended by their being left peaceably to enjoy what they claimed. The Churches of France resisted this innovation up to the sixteenth century; but in the seventeenth they too yielded, and milk-meats were taken during Lent, throughout the whole kingdom. As some reparation for this breach of ancient discipline, the city of Paris instituted a solemn rite, whereby she wished to signify her regret at being obliged to such a relaxation.

On Quinquagesima Sunday, all the different parishes went in procession to the church of Notre Dame. The Dominicans, Franciscans, Carmelites, and Augustinians, took part in the procession. The metropolitan Chapter, and the four parishes that were subject to it, held, on the same day, a Station in the courtyard of the palace, and sang an anthem before the relic of the true cross, which was exposed in the <Sainte Chapelle>. These pious usages, which were intended to remind the people of the difference between the past and the present observance of Lent, continued to be practiced till the revolution.

But this grant for the eating of milk-meats during Lent did not include eggs. Here the ancient discipline was maintained, at least this far, that eggs were not allowed, save by an Indult, which had to be renewed each year. Invariably do we find the Church seeking, out of anxiety for the spiritual advantage of her children, to maintain all she can of those penitential observances, whereby they may satisfy divine justice. It was with this intention that Pope Benedict XIV., alarmed at the excessive facility wherewith dispensations were then obtained, renewed, by a solemn <Constitution> dated June 10, 1745, the prohibition of eating fish and meat, at the same meal, on fasting days.

The same Pope, whose spirit of moderation has never been called in question, had no sooner ascended the papal throne, than he addressed an encyclical letter to the bishops of the Catholic world, expressing his heartfelt grief at seeing the great relaxation that was introduced among the faithful by indiscreet and unnecessary dispensations. The letter is dated May 30, 1741. We extract from it the following passage: ‘The observance of Lent is the very badge of the Christian warfare. By it we prove ourselves not to be enemies of the cross of Christ. By it we avert the scourges of divine justice. By it we gain strength against the princes of darkness, for it shields us with heavenly help. Should mankind grow remiss in their observance of Lent, it would be a detriment to God’s glory, a disgrace to the Catholic religion, and a danger to Christian souls. Neither can it be doubted that such negligence would become the source of misery to the world, of public calamity, and of private woe.’[21]

More than a hundred years have elapsed since this solemn warning of the Vicar of Christ was given to the world; and during that time, the relaxation he inveighed against has gone on gradually increasing. How few Christians do we meet who are strict observers of Lent, even in its present mild form![22]

And must there not result from this ever-growing spirit of immortification, a general effeminacy of character, which will lead, at last, to frightful social disorders? The sad predictions of Pope Benedict XIV. are but too truly verified. Those nations, among whose people the spirit and practice of penance are extinct, are heaping against themselves the wrath of God, and provoking His justice to destroy them by one or other of these scourges-civil discord, or conquest. In our own country there is an inconsistency, which must strike every thinking mind: the observance of the Lord’s day, on the one side; the national inobservance of days of penance and fasting, on the other. The first is admirable, and, if we except puritanical extravagances, bespeaks a deep-rooted sense of religion; -but the second is one of the worst presages for the future. The word of God is unmistakable; unless we do penance, we shall perish.[23] But if our ease-loving and sensual generation were to return, like the Ninivites, to the long-neglected way of penance and expiation, who knows but that the arm of God, which is already raised to strike us, may give us blessing and not chastisement?

Let us resume our history, and seek our edification in studying the fervor wherewith the Christians of former times used to observe Lent. We will first offer to our readers a few instances of the manner in which dispensations were given.

In the thirteenth century, the archbishop of Braga applied to the reigning Pontiff, Innocent III., asking him what compensation he ought to require of his people, who, in consequence of a dearth of the ordinary articles of food, had been necessitated to eat meat during the Lent. He at the same time consulted the Pontiff as to how he was to act in the case of the sick, who asked for a dispensation from abstinence. The answer given by Innocent, which was inserted in the Canon Law,[24] is, as we might expect, full of considerateness and charity; but we learn from this fact that such was then the respect for the law of Lent, that it was considered necessary to apply to the sovereign Pontiff when dispensations were sought for. We find many such instances in the history of the Church.

Wenceslaus, king of Bohemia, being seized with a malady which rendered it dangerous to his health to take Lenten diet, applied, in the year 1297, to Pope Boniface VIII., for leave to eat meat. The Pontiff commissioned two Cistercian abbots to inquire into the real state of the prince’s health; they were to grant the dispensation sought for, if they found it necessary, but on the following conditions: that the king had not bound himself by a vow, for life, to fast during Lent; that the Fridays, the Saturdays, and the vigil of St. Mathias, were to be excluded from the dispensation; and, lastly, that the king was not to take his meal in presence of others, and was to observe moderation in what he took.[25]

In the fourteenth century we meet with two briefs of dispensation, granted by Clement VI., in 1351, to John, king of France, and to his queen consort. In the first, the Pope, taking into consideration that during the wars in which the king is engaged he frequently finds himself in places where fish can with difficulty be procured, grants to the confessor of the king the power of allowing, both to his Majesty and to his suite, the use of meat on days of abstinence, excepting, however, the whole of Lent, all Fridays of the year, and certain vigils; provided, moreover, that neither he, nor those who accompany him, are under a vow of perpetual abstinence.[26] In the second brief the same Pope, replying to the petition made him by the king for a dispensation from fasting, again commissions his Majesty’s present and future confessors, to dispense both the king and his queen, after having consulted with their physicians.[27]

A few years later -that is, in 1376-Pope Gregory XI. sent a brief in favor of Charles V., king of France, and of Jane, his queen. In this brief, he delegates to their confessor the power of allowing them the use of eggs and milkmeats during Lent, should their physician think they stand in need of such dispensation; but he tells both physicians and confessor that he puts it upon their consciences, and that they will have to answer before God for their decision. The same permission is granted also to their servants and cooks, but only as far as it is needed for tasting the food to be served to their Majesties.

The fifteenth century, also, furnishes us with instances of applications to the holy See for Lenten dispensations. We will cite the brief addressed by Sixtus IV., in 1483, to James III., king of Scotland, in which he grants him permission to eat meat on days of abstinence, provided his confessor considers the dispensation needed.[28] In the following century, we have Julius II. granting a like dispensation to John, king of Denmark, and to his queen Christina;[29] and, a few years later, Clement VII. giving one to the emperor Charles V.,[30] and again, to Henry II. of Navarre, and to his queen Margaret.[31]

Thus were princes themselves treated, three centuries ago, when they sought for a dispensation from the sacred law of Lent. What are we to think of the present indifference wherewith it is kept? What comparison can be made between the Christians of former times, who, deeply impressed with the fear of God’s judgments and with the spirit of penance, cheerfully went through these forty days of mortification, and those of our own days, when love of pleasure and selfindulgence are for ever lessening man’s horror for sin? Where there is little or no fear of having to penance ourselves for sin, there is so much the less restraint to keep us from committing it.

Where is now that simple and innocent joy at Easter, which our forefathers used to show, when, after their severe fast of Lent. They partook of substantial and savory food? The peace, which long and sharp mortification ever brings to the conscience, gave them the capability, not to say the right, of being light-hearted as they returned to the comforts of life, which they had denied themselves in order to spend forty days in penance, recollection, and retirement from the world. This leads us to mention some further details, which will assist the Catholic reader to understand what Lent was in the ages of faith.

It was a season during which, not only all amusements and theatrical entertainments were forbidden by the civil authority,[32] but even the law courts were closed; and this in order to secure that peace and calm of heart, which is so indispensable for the soul’s self-examination, and reconciliation with her offended Maker. As early as the year 380, Gratian and Theodosius enacted that judges should suspend all law-suits and proceedings, during the forty days preceding Easter.[33] The Theodosian Code contains several regulations of this nature; and we find Councils, held in the ninth century, urging the kings of that period to enforce the one we have mentioned, seeing that it had been sanctioned by the canons, and approved of by the fathers of the Church.[34] These admirable Christian traditions have long since fallen into disuse in the countries of Europe; but they are still kept among the Turks, who, during the days of their <Ramadan>, forbid all law proceedings. What a humiliation for us Christians!

Hunting, too, was for many ages considered as forbidden during Lent: the spirit of the holy season was too sacred to admit such exciting and noisy sport. Pope St. Nicholas I., in the ninth century, forbade it the Bulgarians,[35] who had been recently converted to the Christian faith. Even so late as the thirteenth century, we find St. Raymund of Pennafort teaching that those who, during Lent, take part in the chase, if it be accompanied by certain circumstances which he specifies, cannot be excused from sin.[36] This prohibition has long since been a dead letter; but St. Charles Borromeo, in one of his Synods, re-established it in his province of Milan.

But we cannot be surprised that hunting should be forbidden during Lent, when we remember that, in those Christian times, war itself, which is sometimes so necessary for the welfare of a nation, was suspended during this holy season. In the fourth century, we have the emperor Constantine the Great enacting that no military exercises should be allowed on Sundays and Fridays, out of respect to our Lord Jesus Christ, who suffered and rose again on these two days, as also in order not to disturb the peace and repose needed for the due celebration of such sublime mysteries.[37] The discipline of the Latin Church, in the ninth century, enforced everywhere the suspension of war during the whole of Lent, except in cases of necessity.[38] The instructions of Pope St. Nicholas I. to the Bulgarians recommend the same observance;[39] and we learn, from a letter of St. Gregory VII. To Desiderius, abbot of Monte Cassino, that it was kept up in the eleventh century.[40] We have an instance of its being practiced in our own country, in the twelfth century, when, as William of Malmesbury relates, the empress Matilda, Countess of Anjou, and daughter of king Henry, was contesting the right of succession to the throne against Stephen, count of Boulogne. The two armies were in sight of each other; but an armistice was demanded and observed, for it was the Lent of 1143.[41]

Our readers have heard, no doubt, of the admirable institution called ‘God’s truce,’ whereby the Church in the eleventh century succeeded in preventing much bloodshed. This law, which forbade the carrying of arms from Wednesday evening till Monday morning throughout the year, was sanctioned by the authority of Popes and Councils, and enforced by all Christian princes. It was an extension of the Lenten discipline of the suspension of war. Our saintly king Edward the Confessor carried its influence still further by passing a law (which was confirmed by his successor, William the Conqueror), that God’s truce should be observed without cessation from the beginning of Advent to the octave of Easter; from the Ascension to the Whitsuntide octave; on all the Ember days; on the vigils of all feasts; and lastly, every week, from None on Wednesday till Monday morning, which had already been prescribed.[42]

In the Council of Clermont, held in 1095, Pope Urban II., after drawing up the regulations for the Crusades, used his authority in extending God’s truce, as it was then observed during Lent. His decree, which was renewed in the Council held the following year at Rouen, was to this effect: that all war proceedings should be suspended from Ash Wednesday to the Monday after the octave of Pentecost, and on all vigils and feasts of the blessed Virgin and of the apostles, over and above what was already regulated for each week, that is, from Wednesday evening to Monday morning.[43]

Thus did the world testify its respect for the holy observances of Lent, and borrow some of its wisest institutions from the seasons and feasts of the liturgical year. The influence of this forty days’ penance was great, too, on each individual. It renewed man’s energies, gave him fresh vigor in battling with his animal instincts, and, by the restraint it put upon sensuality, ennobled the soul. There was restraint everywhere; and the present discipline of the Church, which forbids the solemnization of marriage during Lent, reminds Christians of that holy continency, which, for many ages, was observed during the whole forty days as a precept, and of which the most sacred of the liturgical books, the missal, still retains the recommendation.[44]

It is with reluctance that we close our history of Lent, and leave untouched so many other interesting details. For instance, what treasures we could have laid open to our readers from the Lenten usages of the eastern Churches, which have retained so much of the primitive discipline! We cannot, however, resist devoting our last page to the following particulars.

We mentioned, in the preceding volume, that the Sunday we call <Septuagesima,> is called, by the Greeks, <Prophone’>, because the opening of Lent is proclaimed on that day. The Monday following it is counted as the first day of the next week, which is <Apocreos>, the name they give to the Sunday which closes that week, and which is our Sexagesima Sunday. The Greek Church begins abstinence from flesh-meat with this week. Then on the morrow, Monday, commences the week called <Tyrophagos>, which ends with the Sunday of that name, corresponding to our Quinquagesima. White-meats are allowed during that week. Finally, the morrow is the first day of the first week of Lent, and the fast begins with all its severity, on that Monday, whilst, in the Latin Church, it is deferred to the Wednesday.

During the whole of the Lent preceding Easter, milk-meats, eggs, and even fish, are forbidden. The only food permitted to be eaten with bread, is vegetables, honey, and, for those who live near the sea, shellfish. For many centuries wine might not be taken, but it is now permitted, and on the Annunciation and Palm Sunday a dispensation is granted for eating fish.

Besides the Lent preparatory to the feast of Easter, the Greeks keep three others in the year: that which is called ‘of the apostles,’ which lasts from the octave of Pentecost to the feast of Saints Peter and Paul; that ‘of the Virgin Mary,’ which begins on the first of August, and ends with the vigil of the Assumption; and lastly, the Lent of preparation for Christmas, which consists of forty days. The fasting and abstinence of these three Lents are not quite so severe as those observed during the great Lent. The other Christian nations of the east also observe several Lents, and more rigidly than the Greeks, but all these details would lead us too far. We therefore pass on to the mysteries which are included in this holy season.

ENDNOTES

1 In most languages, the name given to this fast expresses the number of the days, <forty>. But our word <Lent> signifies the <Spring-fast>; for <Lenten-tide>, in the ancient English-Saxon language, was the son of Spring. Tr. 2. St. Matt. ix. 14.15.

3. <Epist.> xxvii. <ad Marcellam>.

4 <Serm.> ii, v. ix. <de Quadragesima.>

5. <Homil Paschal.>

6 <De Ecclesiast. Officiis, lib. vi.> cap. xix.

7 <Catech. iv.>

8 Homily i. <De Jejunio.>

9 Homily iv. <Ad populum Antioch.>

10 <Litt. Pasch.> iii.

11 <Capitul.> xxxix. Labb. <Conc.> tom. viii.

12 Sermon 1. <De Quadrages.> D’Achery. <Spicilegium,> tom. ii.

13 Orderic. Vital. <Histor.> Iib. iv.

14 <In regul. S. Augustini>, cap. iii.

15 <Summa>, Part iv. Quaest. 28, art. 2.

16 2a 2ae Q.

17 <In iv. Dist xv.,> art. 3, Quaest. 8. 147, a. 7.

18 <In iv. Dist.> xv., Quaest. 9, art. 7.

19. <In iv.> Quaest. cxlvii. art. 6.

20. Labbe, <Concil.> tom. x.

21. Constitution: <Non ambigimus.>

22 The Regulations of the Church with regard to Fasting and Abstinence have been revised in accordance with present circumstances and conditions. The Indult granted each Lent in former years is no longer necessary, and all are required to observe the common law of the Church.

By the new code of Canon Law a distinction is made between fasting and abstinence.

All the week days of Lent, the Ember Days and some vigils are days of fasting, but meat is allowed at the full meal except on Wednesdays and Fridays and the Ember Days in Lent.

23 St. Luke xiii. 3.

24 Decretal., lib. iii,, cap. <Concilium; de Jejunio.> Tit. xlvi.

25 Raynaldi, <Ad. ann. 1297.

26 D’ Achery, <Spicilegium,> tom. iv.

27 <Ibid.>

28 Raynaldi, <Ad. ann.> 1484.

29 <Ibid. Ad. ann.> 1505.

30 < lbid. Ad. ann.> 1524.

31 <Ibid Ad. ann.> 1533.

32 It was the Emperor Justinian who passed this law, as we learn from Photius; <Nomocanon.> tit. vii. cap. i. 33 <Cod. Theodos.> lib. ix. tit. xxxv. leg. 4.

34 Labbe, <Concil.> tom. vii. and ix.

35. <Ad consultat. Bulgarorum>, Labbe, <Concil.> tom. viii.

36 <SUMM. CAS. POENIT.,> LIB. III. TIT. XXIX. <DE LAPS. ET DISP.> 1.

37 Euseb. <Constant. vita,> lib. iv., cap. xviii. et xix.

38 Labbe. <Concil.> tom. vii.

39 <Ibid.> tom. viii.

40 Ibid. tom. x.

41. Wilhelm. Malmesbur. <Hist. nov.> no. 30.

42 Labbe, <Concil.> tom. ix.

43 Orderic. Vital. <Hist. Eccles.> lib. ix.

44 Missale Romanum. <Missa pro sponso et sponsa.>

********

The History of The Legion of Mary

INDEX

CHAPTER I

ORIGIN AND HISTORY

In a poor and old part of Dublin, in a property known as Myra House, in Francis Street, the Legion of Mary began. The St. Vincent de Paul Society owned the house and the local conference held its meetings there. Sometime about 1917 some women were asked to assist this conference in serving free breakfasts on Sundays to poor children. When, later on, the free breakfasts were discontinued, the women remained to form, with a number of the brothers, a recruiting-centre for the well-known Irish temperance society, the Pioneer Total Abstinence Association. For this purpose regular meetings were held, at which the prayers from the Vincent de Paul prayer-card were recited, with the addition of the five decades of the Rosary. There was spiritual reading, followed by the minutes of the previous meeting. Then reports were given by members on recruiting campaigns and any other apostolic activity in which they may have been engaged. There were also discussions on religious doctrinal subjects, as well as on practical methods of assisting others and doing good for the Church. The meeting usually began at 4.30 P.M. on Sundays and ended with recitation of the Angelus, announced by the six o‘clock bell. These meetings continued until some time in August 1921.

Father Toher, one of the assistant priests of the parish, was present at all meetings. With his friend, Father Creedon, he was largely responsible for the developments which later took place. Amongst the lay-people the guiding spirit was Mr. Frank Duff, who has rightly been recognised as founder of the Legion of Mary. At this time he held a responsible position in the Ministry of Finance, a position which he later resigned to devote all his time to the work of the Legion. More than any other, Mr. Duff was to be instrumental in forming the spirit, forging the constitution, and shaping the destiny of the future movement.

The “True Devotion”

One of the frequent topics of discussion at the meetings was Grignion de Montfort’s “True Devotion to Mary.” The idea was very unusual then-almost unknown in fact-and not clearly grasped, even by those of the group who were prominent in proposing the devotion. All, however, were so deeply interested in it that a special meeting was summoned for the purpose of discussing it and enabling all to grasp its idea. “I have often,” said one of those concerned, “tried to place that particular event; it must have been almost immediately before the start of the Legion. It was just like making an electric connection and something happens. We spent the evening talking about the devotion. . . . Then at once the Legion happened !”

Hot foot on the top of that little meeting two of the ladies who had attended it approached Bro. Duff, and said: “Couldn’t something be done to enable us to undertake the sort of work which the St. Vincent de Paul brothers are doing every Sunday morning in visiting the Union Hospital ?” They were advised to seek support for the venture, and the following Wednesday was decided on as the date of the first meeting.

THE FIRST MEETING

On that fateful Wednesday night, September 7, 1921, at 8 o‘clock, fifteen ladies met Bro. Duff and Father Toher in the usual meeting-room in Myra House. What was their surprise to see that she whose name they were to bear was there before them! They came to the meeting ready to serve as soldiers under the banner and patronage of Mary, and, as in the case of all proper armies, the commander was there, ready to receive their enrolments. When they came to the room, the table around which they were to meet and which was usually bare was decked out just as for a present-day Praesidium meeting. There was the white cloth and the statue of the Immaculate Conception, two vases with flowers, two candlesticks with lighted candles. The Queen was waiting for her soldiers. It was the happy thought of one of the earlier-comers, though no instructions had been given. The meeting commenced with the invocation and prayer to the Holy Ghost, followed by five decades of the Rosary. When the opening prayers were finished there was spiritual reading. Then those present sat up, and, without realising it, applied themselves to one of the great historical events of the world, the mapping out of the Legion of Mary.

ORGANISATION

The first question raised concerned the auspices under which they were going to work. The unhesitating answer was that they had come together to serve Our Blessed Lady. They then decided on a weekly meeting and weekly active work. The setting of the meeting would he the same, andthe prayers would be those they had already said. Finally, as to work, they decided to take on the systematic visitation of the Dublin Union Hospital. They would visit in pairs, a ward being allotted to each pair. This was the first work to be taken in hand, but not the only work. It was agreed that the work obligation could be satisfied by any substantial active work whatsoever, except the giving of material relief. The St. Vincent de Paul Society was doing that in the right spirit, and doing it well, so there was no need for them to enter in on that domain.

A president and secretary were appointed at that first meeting and they both set a pattern for all future officers. The president, Mrs. Kirwin, was Australian born. She was Australia’s first contribution to the Legion of Mary and a presage of the considerable part Australia was later to play in Legion fortunes. Mrs. Kirwin ruled the Legion with a rod of iron. She was the only elderly person in the room, but she had the affection and confidence of all the young people around her. Amongst other valuable things, she brought the note of poverty into the meeting; she was, undoubtedly, the poorest person in the room. Thus, she caused the real Legion note to be struck from the start, the absence of all social and worldly distinctions in its membership.

Thus came into being the Legion of Mary as it is to-day in all its features, ushered into the world with the first Vespers of the Feast of Mary’s Nativity. What a wonder! Who. contemplating those inconspicuous persons-so simply engaged-could in his wildest moments imagine what a destiny waited just a little along the road! Who among them could think that they were inaugurating a system which was to be a new world-force; possessing, if faithfully and forcefully administered, the power, in Mary, of imparting life and sweetness and hope to the nations! Yet so it was to be.

FIRST DEVELOPMENTS

Let us now sketch briefly the development from the little organisation whose first meeting we have described. By 1924 there were four branches and a central council was formed to govern them. In November, 1925, this council unanimously agreed that the organisation should adopt for itself the title of Legion of Mary. Other important and historic discussions followed. At the council meeting of May, 1927, for instance, the word council was replaced by the more distinctive and appropriate title of “Curia”; and in December, 1930, a fuller Latin nomenclature was adopted. By this time the organisation was growing conscious of its world mission, and it was this, as well as the need for consistency, which prompted the adoption of other Latin names.

THE CHRISTIAN REVOLUTION

Nineteen hundred and twenty-one to nineteen hundred and twenty-six-Five years, and the Legion now comprises thirteen branches. Much, however, has happened in the meantime. These Legionaries have acted like dynamite. More, perhaps, than the men of Easter Week they have revolutionised Dublin, and in the doing have profoundly shocked its easy-going conservative Catholicism.

In a den in Blank Street lived 31 street girls. It was taken for granted that they were a hopeless proposition, until one day an appeal was made to them. Twenty-three of them responded. In a body they went on retreat to Baldoyle Convent,and three days later they proceeded to a house providentially provided. That house, called “Sancta Maria,” was the first of the Legion hostels. It opened on July 17, 1922, and had strange success. Sixteen years later it was found that of the initial 23 not one had returned to her old way of life.

The working of this hostel soon focussed attention on Bentley Place, a notorious area of tolerated vice. Bentley Place was an anomaly. In the holiest city in the world it was one of the world’s worst localities. Its evil fame had gone afar and secured it a mention in the “Encyclopaedia Brittanica.” Bentley Place was attacked, systematically visited by the legionaries, and eventually completely cleared up. The achievement is an epic of modern rescue work. It has set a standard of heroism for all future legionaries and has demonstrated that no power of evil can withstand the visitation system of the Legion.

Nineteen hundred and twenty-one to nineteen hundred and twenty-six -Five years and the Legion’s thirteen branches are still confined within the city walls of Dublin. It was only in the following year, 1927, that the young army began its march. In that year Waterford city gave it welcome.

WORLD-WIDE ADVANCE

From then on advance was more rapid. Glasgow was reached in April, 1928, and London in 1929. A start was made in Madras, India, in 1931. The same year sees a beginning at Ratton, a large mining camp in New Mexico, and the first American legionaries are men. Autumn, 1932, and the Legion crosses the Canadian border, when a group of Cowichan Indian men makes the first foundation at Duncan, B.C. The Legion’s chivalry appeals to the heart of the Indian brave. In 1932, also, the Legion came to Australia. In 1933 the first foundation was made in the Transvaal, whilst a start was made also at the Cape. September of the same eventful year, and the Legion is established in the West Indian Islands.

Thus by 1932 the Legion had spread to the five continents. Since then there had been ceaseless extension, until today the Legion prayers are said in over 40 languages and dialects. There are upwards of a million active members, making the Legion the largest of all modern group movements within the Church; and statistics at headquarters reveal that the average growth is more than three branches per day.

AUSTRALIA

Amongst the visitors to Dublin for the International Eucharistic Congress in 1932 was Father Henry Bakker, parish priest of Ascot Vale, Victoria. Father Bakker met Mr. Duff, who revealed to him the possibilities of the Legion for Australia. Father Bakker was quick to realise the value of the Legion, and attended several meetings before returning to Melbourne. Meanwhile, Mrs. Gavan Duffy, of Mt. Eliza, Victoria, also in Dublin at this time, had promised Mr. Duff to study the Legion in India on her way home. By February, 1933, she arrived in Melbourne, to find that Father Bakker had already approached Archbishop Mannix for permission to start, and had, in fact, begun the first branch in his own parish. Mrs. Gavan Duffy lost no time in starting at Frankston, and by the following June a Curia, or Council, was formed to govern the existing branches and carry on the work of extension. Of this body Father Bakker became spiritual director, While Mrs. Gavan Duffy was made president. How well this Curia did its work will be appreciated from the rapid extension which followed. The first diocese outside Melbourne to adopt the Legion was Sandhurst, with its inaugural meeting at Bendigo in January, 1934. Adelaide moved early in the same year; Tasmania and Broken Hill followed in 1935. A beginning was effected in Queensland in 1936. Perth adopted the Legion in 1940, and Sydney in 1942. In July, 1944, when the tenth anniversary of the establishment of the Senatus was celebrated, the Legion had extended to every State in the Commonwealth and to New Zealand. There were 643 branches, with an active membership. of 5470 and an auxiliary membership of 35,000. Two items deserve special mention. First, the raising of the Melbourne Curia to the status of Senatus, or National Council, for Australia in June, 1934. Since then it has been responsible to the Concilium Legionis, or World Council, situated in Dublin, for government and extension throughout Australia.

The second item is the granting of the “Imprimatur” to the Official Handbook of the Legion. Though the Handbook was printed in Dublin for private circulation, it remained for Archbishop Mannix to give it an imprimatur. This action had such far-reaching consequences that by it the Archbishop of Melbourne may be said to have placed the entire Legion under a lasting debt of gratitude. For this signal service the Concilium conferred upon him the title of Laureate Member.

THE LEGION AT WORK

Throughout the length and breadth of Australia the Legion of Mary is engaged in steady and unspectacular work for the salvation of souls. Its members, under the direction of the Hierarchy and clergy, strive for the sanctification of their own souls by prayer and by active cooperation in the Church’s work of advancing the reign of Christ. The Legion places itself at the disposal of the Bishops and pastors of parishes for any and every form of apostolate which these authorities may deem to be suitable and useful for the welfare of the Church. And so we find the Legion of Mary in a great many parishes assisting the priest in his pastoral visitation and care of his flock. The Legionaries are sent by many pastors upon a house to house visitation of all the people of a parish or district, not only to obtain a nominal census of Catholics but to serve as living links between priest and people-comforting the sick and preparing them for the reception of the Sacraments, giving encouragement and assistance to those who are cold and negligent, winning their confidence and by patient and painstaking effort bringing hack even the most obdurate and obstinate to Christ and His Church. At the same time they try to raise the good and faithful to a more generous practice of their faith. Such parochial visitation is not, however, the one and only work of the Legion. It is but the first beginning of a whole range of apostolic labours which are as various as the local conditions and the types of members which are attracted to its ranks.

WORK IN SCHOOLS

In a number of dioceses in Australia the Legion does a great deal of work in the instruction of children of careless families and their preparation for the Sacraments. These legionaries go regularly to the State or public schools and give religious instruction to Catholic children who may be attending them. At the same time, they visit the parents of such children and have had a great measure of success in arranging the transfer of many such children to Catholic schools where they are available. Again, in many instances, the legionaries have at the same time succeeded in bringing the parents back to the practice of their religion, and have been instrumental in having their marriages regularised.

Where junior groups of the Legion of Mary are functioning in Catholic schools it has been found by the religious teachers that the children who are privileged to be members of the Legion not only benefit themselves from the discipline and devotion of the Legion, but become most zealous and effective apostles of their companions and their families. Furthermore, such junior groups have proved to be the nurseries of many excellent religious vocations.

HOSPITAL WORK

A great deal of excellent work is done by the Legion of Mary by the visitation of hospitals. The traditional kindness and gentleness and interest in each individual soul makes such visitation not only a consolation to the patients but a source from which they willingly draw fresh heart and confidence in God. Again, through its systematic visitation of the homes of patients, the Legion is often able to do much good to whole families. Worthy of special mention here is the work of several praesidia of nurses. Though the keeping of the Legion rule of attending “the weekly meeting involves no little sacrifice of time and rest on their part, nurses who have persevered in their membership have found that it is a great source of grace and strength to them in their vocation, and a means by which they are constantly urged to be solicitous not only for the bodily welfare of their patients but also for their spiritual needs.

APOSTOLATE TO NON-CATHOLICS

In recent years the Legion of Mary in Australia has taken an ever more active and, widespread interest in the spiritual necessity of our non-Catholic fellow citizens. Already in some places Legionaries assist in the instruction of prospective converts. They take them under their individual care, supplementing the instructions given by the priest. They accompany their charges to Holy Mass and devotions, act as sponsors when they are received into the Church and are confirmed, and remain in friendly con-tact with them afterwards. In parishes where an organised campaign has been conducted to bring the claims of the Church to the notice of non-Catholics the legionaries have rendered invaluable assistance. Not only have they sought converts in their house to house visitation, and given particulars of the time and place of weekly instruction classes, but they have accompanied interested non-Catholics to them. They have also induced both Catholics and non-Catholics to undertake to pray regularly for the reunion of Christendom. At actual instruction classes the legionaries have also been present and encouraged non-Catholics to discuss their problems with the priest and to maintain regular attendance at the classes.

OTHER SPECIAL WORKS

A number of chaplains to the forces have found a Legion praesidium to be a considerable help in establishing and maintaining personal contact with the men and women under their care, as well as a means for the greater perfection of its own members. In particular localities praesidia have been established to assist the clergy in dealing with special problems. Thus there are a number of praesidia caring for particular national groups-notably for the Chinese and Maltese in large cities. Such praesidia naturally attract members from such groups and give them a field of apostolate which they eagerly embrace. The formation of press-squad praesidia in many parishes has resulted in an extraordinary multiplication in the number of Catholic papers and periodicals distributed with much benefit to the people, as well as the kindling of the apostolic spirit in many youthful hearts. Other praesidia have the special responsibility for arranging enclosed retreats for men or women, Catholics and non-Catholics, while others assist in the direction of the work of the Society for the Propagation of the Faith and assist, as required by ecclesiastical authority, in the recruiting and organising of official Catholic Action.

LEGION HOSTEL WORK

Finally, the Legion of Mary in Australia, as in every other part of the world in which it has made any development, takes to itself the work of seeking and helping the most wretched and dejected of the population. Its members in several cities visit the inmates of the jails regularly, and, besides saying prayers regularly with them and instructing them, they do all they can to help and befriend them after they have finished their sentences. At the time of writing one Regina Coeli Hostel has been working for some five years and has supplied the poor and destitute women of a great city with a home and an atmosphere of genuine love most of them have not known since childhood. In other cities the legionaries look forward to the day when they will have their hostels. Arrangements are being made for the opening of hostels, too, for homeless and wayward girls who may have fallen or may be in danger of falling into evil ways, and who are not prepared, as yet, to return to their homes or to seek shelter in any other institution. There is little earthly consolation in such works. By the patient charity of the legionaries who staff the hostels voluntarily or who assist in the hostel in their spare time, and go out again and again after these wayward sheep of Christ, a change is gradually wrought in their cold and obdurate hearts, and by the grace of God many a soul otherwise abandoned is brought, in the end, to repentance.

CHAPTER II

THE ORGANISATION OF THE LEGION OF MARY

In great measure the remarkable success which has attended the Legion of Mary in so many parts of the world, under the widest variety of circumstances and in so many diverse works, has sprung, under the generous hands of Mary, from the excellence of its organisation. Its system not only enkindles the spirit of apostolic zeal in its members, but directs it to most effective service. While strong and firm in its framework, the organisation of the Legion is supple enough to give scope for every type of work. While insisting on the spirit of humility and obedience in all its members, it encourages the initiative of the individual in its system of reports and discussion. Through the control exercised over the activities of all its members by the weekly Presidium meeting and the supervision of. individual Praesidia by the higher councils, it gives every opportunity for a campaign of planned action.

To apply to apostolic work a firm discipline and a thoroughly businesslike method is a cardinal principle of the system. To bring home this idea to members and to indicate that courage and sacrifice are required for apostolate, the idealism and nomenclature of the ancient Roman Legion are adopted as far as possible. There is particular appropriateness in a Latin terminology for a Catholic organisation with world-wide extension.

With these preliminary remarks, we set out a brief summary of the salient features of Legion organisation.

THE PRAESIDIUM

In the ancient Roman Army the term praesidium was applied to a part of the battle-line or to a detachment performing special duty, such as holding a post in the midst of a hostile people. Appropriately, the Legion of Mary gives the same title to each of its units or branches. For they are outposts or garrisons on active service, fighting the good fight of the Faith for Christ, under the special patronage and direction of Mary, His Mother. The Presidium is a group or committee. Its officers are the spiritual director, the president, secretary, treasurer, and vice-president. The officers, except the spiritual director, are appointed for a term of three years which appointment can be renewed for a further term of three years. The Presidium holds a weekly meeting, which must not last longer than one and a half hours. When there are too many members to obtain a report of work from each, the Presidium divides into two. A study of the Pnesidium will reveal a masterpiece of organisation. The use of ritual should be noticed; the firm, unchanging framework of prayer within which takes place; the informal and family-like discussion of reports. The length of the prayer is also noticeable, for the purpose of the Praesidium is two-fold, spiritual formation and apostolate. The members come into the Praesidium to pray, to plan, and to act.

Members may be grouped in Men’s, Women’s, Boys”, Girls”, or Mixed Praesidia, as the needs suggest, and as approved by the appropriate authority. Candidates under 18 years of age are organised in Junior Praesidia.

THE PRAESIDIUM MEETING

In an atmosphere made supernatural by its wealth of prayer, by its devotional usages, and by its sweet spirit of fraternity, the Praesidium holds its weekly meeting. The legionaries gather around a table, on one end of which, for purposes of the meeting, is placed the Immaculate Conception statue of Our Lady on a white cloth, flanked with two candlesticks, with lighted candles, and two silver vases of flowers. A little to the right of the statue, and in front of it, is placed a small replica of the Legion standard. At the direction of the president, the meeting opens with the prayers appointed-the invocation and prayer to the Holy Ghost, Who is the source of that Grace, that Life, that Love, of which Mary is the channel. Then follow five decades of the Rosary and appropriate spiritual reading. The secretary reads the minutes of the previous meeting. The president then takes reports upon the work allotted to them from all the members present. Informally each member in turn makes a short statement of the manner in which he attended to this duty. These reports are followed with interest by the meeting. They are often the basis of discussion, and they enable the individual members to get direction or advice from the spiritual director or more experienced members. Midway through the meeting these discussions are interrupted, and all stand to recite the Magnificat, with antiphon, versicle, response, and prayer from the Mass for the Feast of Mary, Mediatrix of All Graces. This group of prayers is called the Catena, for it links up all. legionaries, active and auxiliary. All having resumed their seats, the spiritual director gives the Allocutio, a brief address reminiscent of the exhortation given by the Roman general before launching his soldiers into battle. This is usually based upon the Handbook of the Legion, and is directed to the spiritual formation of the legionaries. The organisation is financed by a secret-bag collection taken up at this time in all meetings. When the reports have been concluded and the work for the next week allotted to the members, there usually remains some time for a little study and general business. The meeting concludes with a united prayer that God may confer on them who serve beneath the standard of Mary that fulness of faith and trust to which it is given to conquer the world; and then, with the priest’s blessing, Mary’s soldiers fare forth to another week of conquest.

GOVERNMENT OF THE LEGION

To ensure unity, to preserve the original ideals of the Legion of Mary, to guard the integrity of the Legion spirit and its rules and practices, as set down in the Handbook of the Legion, also to extend its works and multiply its branches, the Legion of Mary throughout the world is governed by a series of diocesan, provincial, and national councils, with the Concilium, or world council, at the top. To each of these, a priest is appointed as spiritual director by the proper ecclesiastical authority. He has decisive authority in moral and religious questions raised at the council meeting, and a suspensive veto on all matters, with a view to obtaining the decision of the authority by which he was appointed.

The Concilium Legionis is the supreme governing body for the Legion throughout the world. It meets in Dublin. Its chief function is to maintain and interpret the rule and spirit of the Legion. It is the central office for Legion information, being in intimate touch with world activities through the monthly reports of the national councils. It seeks to establish the organisation in every country where a national council is not yet set up.

The Legion is a piece of apostolic machinery placed at the disposal of the Bishop. To see that this machinery is maintained in perfect working order is the chief function of the Concilium Legionis.

The Senatus is a national or regional council of the Legion of Mary, exercising authority delegated to it by the Concilium over a particular country or other extended area. It is composed of the officers of every Legionary body, Curia or Praesidium, which is directly linked to it. Its spiritual director is appointed by the Bishops of the dioceses in which it exercises its jurisdiction.

The Curia is a Legion council, governing a group of Praesidia in any city, town, or diocese. It is composed of the office-bearers of the Praesidia in its area, and its spiritual director is appointed by the Ordinary of the diocese in which it functions. Its task is to ensure the exact observance of the rules and practices of the Legion by the Praesidia attached to it. It appoints the officers and sees that they fulfil their duties. It maintains the high spirit of the Legion in its district, receives reports from individual Praesidia, and does what it can to extend the Legion and its works in its own territory. When, in addition to its ordinary duties, a Curia is given the additional responsibility of caring for other Curia, such a higher Curia is called a Comitium.

LEGION MEMBERSHIP

Membership of the Legion of Mary is open to all Catholics who lead edifying lives and who are prepared to fulfill each and every duty which Legion membership involves. Persons wishing to join the Legion must apply for membership to a Praesidium. No candidate can be accepted without the sanction of the spiritual director, acting with the authority delegated to him by the parish priest or Ordinary.

Active Membership requires the following:

1. The punctual and regular attendance at the weekly meeting of the Praesidium, and the furnishing there of an adequate report on the work done.

2. The daily recitation of the Catena.

3. The performance of a substantial active Legionary work, in the spirit of faith and in union with Mary.

4. The observance of an absolute secrecy in regard to any matter discussed at the meeting or learnt in connection with Legionary work.

PRAETORIAN MEMBERSHIP

Active members who undertake, in addition, the daily recitation of the full Legion prayers, daily Mass and Holy Communion, and the recitation daily of some form of Office approved by the Church, are Praetorian members. The Praetorian Guard was the flower of the Roman Army.

AUXILIARY MEMBERSHIP

Just as an army, no matter how well organised, must have its commissariat, so Mary’s army, the Legion, depends upon the support of a strong body of auxiliary members, assisting each Praesidium and forming part of its organisation. An auxiliary member of the Legion is one who, being unable or unwilling to assume the obligations of active membership, nevertheless undertakes to supply the active units, as it were, “with ammunition by saying the five decades of the Rosary and other specified prayers every day for the intentions of Mary. By its ever-growing auxiliary, the Legion essays to make its own the confident words of Pius X: “I could conquer the world if I had an army to say the Rosary.” By this, also, a barrier is raised against adverse local criticisms and a ready means is found to fulfil the special mission of extending and intensifying devotion to Mary.

Priests and those in Major Orders, and Religious who undertake auxiliary service for the Legion are called Adjutorian members. They form the right wing of the Legion’s praying army. Their obligations are comparatively light, and may be included even in the busiest day. All that is asked of them is wisely to place their many spiritual treasures in the safe hands of her whom God has already made His own treasurer. They are asked to recite the Catena daily and make an offering to Mary to this effect:

“Mary Immaculate, Mediatrix of All Graces, I place at your disposal such portion of my daily Mass es, Communions, prayers, works, and sufferings as is permitted to me.” They may, of course, undertake the full obligations set down for Jay-auxiliaries if they wish. In either case, their cooperation with the Legion will be both the source of many blessings for the souls it is striving to save, and also a touching tribute to their Heavenly Mother, who will not fail to take a special interest in, and give special assistance to them in their own apostolic labours.

THE LEGION AND THE HIERARCHY

Not only does the Legion of Mary depend upon the approval of the Ordinary and parish priest for its establishment as any diocese or parish, but it will never engage in any activity whatsoever without the approval of the proper ecclesiastical authority. What is more, the Legion, cooperating with the Hierarchy in its apostolate, looks to the clergy not only to direct its works, but to form its members. To this end, it helps the priest, in that it offers him a carefully devised system of formation; a secure way in which to lead his selected group to that perfection of the Christian life which is required for any true success in apostolic endeavour. It places at the disposal of the priest a permanent layorganisation which, notwithstanding the voluntary character of its membership, possesses the rigorous discipline and the spiritual intensity usually found only in religious orders and institutes.

“Give me a lever and a support for it,” said Archimedes, “and I will lift the world.” What a piece of powerful machinery is to the hand that operates it, such will a praesidium of the Legion be to the priest who avails himself of it.

Between those working actively and those giving auxiliary service, and those being worked for, the whole population can be organised and raised from the level of neglect or routine to that of enthusiastic membership of the Church. A whole population organised for God! This is the ideal of the Legion of Mary, an ideal which every year since its foundation has demonstrated to be a practical one.

CHAPTER III

THE LEGION APOSTOLATE

The result of the working of the Legion system is to build up around the pastoral clergy a permanent, apostolic, lay organisation.

The stamp of thoroughness, attention to detail, and army-like discipline is a characteristic of the Legion, as it was of the Roman Army, from which it borrows its names. This perfection of organisation results in strength and permanence. Every detail of the system is formative, seeking discipline and efficiency as a means to virtue, and unifying all in its own devotional outlook and spirit. Thus the Legion becomes less an organisation than a living movement, offering to its members a way of life, an intense idealism expressing itself in disciplined action.

We may put this in another way by saying that the Legion of Mary is the religious order idea applied to the layapostolate. What is aimed at is not something equivalent to a new religious order or which would eventually drift into becoming one. The aim is to draw into efficient organisation great numbers living their ordinary life in the world and to provide them with a rule at once within their capacity to observe yet sufficiently exacting to be a means of perfection.

THE LEGION AND THE PRIEST

The Legion of Mary is built up around the pastoral clergy. Hence, though an international movement with national councils, it is essentially parochial and diocesan in character. The whole idea of the Legion is to be the handmaid of the clergy. The Bishop, with his clergy in union with him, uses the Legion in his apostolate. The Legion’s work is, therefore, essentially pastoral. Within the limits of the powers and state of the laity, they “lend a helping hand to the Church and in a measure complete its pastoral ministry.” (Pius XI, “A.A.S.,” vol. xx, p. 296.)

It is for this reason that the priest is not merely the spiritual director of a Legion body. He is the Director. How, indeed, could he be less, seeing that he uses the Legion in his own priestly work. This, however, does not mean that the Legion is passive. It is an active instrument in his hand. The priest does not act as president. He does not write the minutes of the meetings. He does not manage the finance. He leaves these things to the officers, just as he leaves to the other members the working out of the details of the plans which the Praesidium has made.

From the legal standpoint, then, we may say that the priest is the director, the supreme authority, the leader of the Legion. The idea is to link up priest and people in closest unity. All are one army; the priests are the officers, the laypeople non-commissioned officers and private soldiers.

SPIRITUAL FORMATION

But the priest is more to the Legion than its commanding officer. His position resembles that of the novice master in a religious order. The Legion is the mould in which he forms apostles. He must choose carefully and train diligently. His work is to form his chosen band in Christian perfection. Like his Master, the priest’s pastoral method is twofold. There is the ordinary preaching and. visitation of the people and the administration of the Sacraments. But, besides this work, there is another no less necessary, but all-too-much neglected-that of fostering and developing the divine life in those who seek to go higher. Christ’s work would have been a failure had He not trained carefully the twelve. The priest’s work also will collapse unless he forms around him an apostolic band. For, in the words of Pope Pius X, “What is most necessary at the present time is to have in each parish a group of laymen at the same time virtuous, enlightened, determined, and really apostolic.” (Chautard, “The Soul of the Apostolate, Pt. III., if.)

To do this a system of some sort is required. Many priests are capable of inventing a system of their own. But if every priest has his own system there will be constant changing, which can result in no genuine formation, but only in confusion and disaster. The Legion offers the priest a standard system, so clearly set out in its Handbook that any priest can use it with effect. The Legion Handbook was written several years after the Legion was founded. It is the fruit of a wide experience in Catholic organisation. It is a solid, practical, and inspiring guide. It is excellent spiritual reading because of its wealth of devotional thought and firm dogmatic basis. It presents not the skeleton of an organisation, but captures the Legion spirit, portraying accurately a living movement. For the priest it is an invaluable means of training members. His theological training and practical knowledge of souls will enable him to grasp the spirit of the Legion from its pages and all his initiative, originality, and skill will find an outlet in its exposition to members.

INVARIABLE SYSTEM

Having seen how the laity are assumed, as it were, into the apostolate of the Hierarchy and equipped spiritually for their work, we now come to examine the apostolate which results. The foregoing pages outline how the Legion supplies to the Bishop, ready-made and guaranteed to work, a system of apostolate which provides for the following factors: (a) Control and direction by the clergy; (b) the parochial group, with frequency and form of meeting, place of prayer, and devotional outlook; (c) officering and higher organisation. These factors of Legion organisation are invariable and are set out definitely in the Handbook. On analysis it will be found that they cover the whole relationship between the priest and the legionary. Since this relationship is based on the nature of the Christian apostolate, it will be readily understood how it is always constant. In this respect, therefore, the Legion of Mary is suited to all countries and to all types and classes.

VARIABLE METHODS

A distinction must here be made (1) between the relation of the clergy to the Legion, and (2) the relation of the Legion to those worked for. The first is systematised and invariable, the second is not so. This is as it should be, for the second is mainly a matter of approach and method. The Legion system of control and formation never varies, but its methods of apostolate must necessarily change from country to country, from parish to parish, even from Praesidium to Praesidium. We are, the Handbook tells us, to shape our instruments to the work, our weapons to the conflict. Hence, initiative and originality are encouraged in the diocesan and national councils, whilst a wide discretion is allowed even to the parochial group or Praesidium.

METHODS INVENTED AND APPLIED

A study of the organisation of the Praesidium, as described in Chapter II, will show that it is essentially a committee or group whose purpose is prayer, planning, and action. The knowledge of local conditions, the experience gained in grappling with local difficulties, becomes the property of the Praesidium, through the weekly reports. Detailed plans result from careful discussion, and through trial and error a suitable method for the place and its particular problems is worked out. This method may become standardised for a particular diocese or country. For instance, the Press Squad method of distributing Catholic literature, worked out in Preston, Victoria, is found suitable for all Australian cities, and the hostel work, first tried in Dublin, is found equally effective in Melbourne, Glasgow, and London. In a number of places, also, experiments on convert work are being made. When these methods are perfected they are handed on to other Legion councils and Praesidia. In the course of time the Legion will be found dealing adequately with every type of work which the Hierarchy desires it to do.

GUIDING PRINCIPLES

It is well to insist, however, that all Legion methods are influenced by the general guiding principles of its apostolate. The Legion’s purpose is to assist the priest in his work. This at once makes the parish the first and chief theatre of Legion operations. The inevitable house-to-house visitation under one pretext or another is, therefore, the most familiar as it is the most fruitful of all Legion works. In all that may develop from it in the task of spiritualising the parish, it may be said to involve the entire effort of the Legion of Mary. Yet the visitation of homes is itself only a means to that personal contact with individuals which must ripen into firm friendship. Here we have the heart and core of the Legion apostolate, the supreme principle inspiring every method and expedient. “The essence of Legion work is its desire to reach every individual, to take into the sphere of its apostolate not merely the neglectful, not alone the household of the Faith, not only the poor and degraded, but ALL.” No one is too bad to be uplifted; no one too good. Great good must be done to a great number if possible; if not, then great good to a small number; never a little good to a great number. It is to be emphasised that the effecting of real and extensive good can be hoped for only as the result of intensive visitation directed towards the establishment of a footing of genuine friendship between the visitors, and the visited. The Legion is Mary loving and serving Christ in His members. For this reason, and because the secret of influence is love, the underlying purpose in all Legion methods is the establishment of friendship. “The world belongs to him who loves it most.” (Cure of Ars.)

EXTRA-PAROCHIAL ENVIRONMENTS

It will be deduced from this that an apostolate carried out in one’s own home, in one’s place of work or recreation, is a by-product of the Legion system. This is obvious in the case of the legionary himself. Trained and exercised in the apostolate within his parish, he must necessarily be an apostle, too, in his home, in his work, and in his recreation; in his trade or profession; at all times and in every place. The apostolic fire enters only as master, to dominate every thought and action, so that in all circumstances and even without pursuing a conscious apostolate sin and evil will have to bow to a power greater than themselves. As the Legion develops the number of such apostles will grow. With over a hundred such in every parish moral and religious conditions will begin to change in every environment in which legionaries are found-this without any reference to the change wrought in the hundreds and thousands who are the direct object of legionary attention in the parishes.

UNITING ALL CLASSES

The pastoral character of the Legion, as well as its intense unity as an organisation, requires that, like the priest in the parish, it recognises in its own ranks no social, political, class, or trade distinction. Its mission to the entire population makes it incumbent on it to recruit from rich and poor, from all trades and professions, for it insists, with the Pope, on the advisability of like working upon like. This sometimes requires the setting up of special Praesidia in factories, in military camps, in ships, in schools, universities, and other institutions.

STUDY

Study and the pursuit of religious knowledge find due place in its system, insofar as they are useful to the furtherance of the work to be done. In all cases, however, study must form part of a scheme for communicating what is acquired to others. Study alone can never justify the setting up of a Presidium; neither is intellectual proficiency made a requirement of membership.

Social Reform

Social reform is sought by a definitely religious apostolate, directed towards the individual, who is the cell of society. The object is to fire the entire household of the Faith with an exalted spirit of charity, knowing that in this charity and in this alone is the remedy of all injustice.

Legion methods may include the use of press, platform, stage, radio, and even mass organisations and demonstrations. But all these are regarded as secondary and complementary to its essential work, which is intensely personal in character.

TWO WORKS EXCLUDED

Only two activities are excluded from the Legion-the giving of material relief and the regular collecting of money. They are excluded by the nature of the Legion’s task-viz., to bring spiritual good to every individual in the population. The Legion has found this programme and that of relief-giving to be incompatible for it in practice. Moreover, this excellent Christian work is being effectively done the world over by the St. Vincent de Paul Society and similar organisations. In much the same category as relief-giving, and coming under the same ban, would lie the regular utilisation of the Legionary visitation system for the purpose of collecting money. The money might be secured, but not the atmosphere for the accomplishment of spiritual good.

CHAPTER IV

DEVOTIONAL OUTLOOK AND SPIRIT

We now come to the inner secret of the Legion of Mary, the key at once to its organisational form and the ultimate source of its success. The general trend of its remarkable history, as well as a study of its Handbook or system, will reveal the spirit of the Legion, its devotional outlook, its philosophy of life. This spirit, the soul of the movement, is the fount of all its energy and action.

In this chapter we examine the spirit of the Legion of Mary in general, laying bare its dogmatic or doctrinal basis, and from this we move on to study the same spirit as revealed in the individual legionary. This spirit will first affect the legionary in his own life, and secondly in his relations with others. Accordingly, the division of this study can be put thus:

General -Doctrinal basis of the Legion.

Particular—1. The Legionary and the Spirit of the Legion

2. Spirit of the Legion in his own life.

3. The Legionary in his Apostolate.

1. DOCTRINAL BASIS OF THE LEGION

The doctrinal basis of the Legion is, briefly, Mary’s universal mediation as Mother of the Mystical Body of Christ.

This doctrine contains such a wealth of ideas that it must be developed; and, first, a word on the Mystical Body itself: “This truth has been described as the central dogma of Christianity. For, in fact, all the supernatural life, all the graces conferred on man, are a fruit of the Redemption. The Redemption itself is based on the fact that Christ and the

Church form together but a single Mystical Person, so that the satisfaction of Christ, the Head; the infinite merits of

His Passion, belong to His members, who are all the faithful. This is the reason why Our Lord could suffer for man and expiate faults which He had not Himself committed. “Christ is the Saviour of His Body.” The activity of the

Mystical Body is the activity of Christ Himself. The faithful are incorporated into Him, and then live, suffer, and die in Him, and in His Resurrection rise again. Baptism only sanctifies, because it establishes between Christ and the soul that vital connection by which the sanctity of the Head flows into its members. The other Sacraments and, above all, the Divine Eucharist, exist for the purpose of intensifying the union between the Mystical Body and its Head. In addition, that union is deepened by the operations of faith and charity, by the bonds of government and mutual service in the Church, by labour and suffering, rightly submitted to, and generally by every act of Christian life.” (Handbook, p. 145.)

We said above that the Legion’s doctrinal basis is Mary’s universal mediation as Mother of the Mystical Body of Christ. Now, having seen what the Mystical Body means, we must pass on to examine the doctrine of Mary’s mother- hood of that Body. In Christ it is impossible to separate His Divine Sonship from His Headship of regenerated humanity. These two are in one, as His divinity and humanity are in one Person. He came only to save; He came that He might be first-born among many brothers; that He might give, by incorporating them into Himself, other sons to God. This is the reason why Mary is Mother of redeemed mankind. she was Mother of Christ, the Head of humanity, and, as His Mother, was necessarily also the Mother of those who by baptism are made one with Christ. She could not be Mother of the Head and not be Mother of the Body. St. Augustine says: “Mary is the living mould of God- that is to say, it is in her alone that the God-Man was naturally formed without losing a feature, so to speak, of His God-head; and it is in her alone that man can be properly and in a life-like way formed into God, so far as human nature is capable of this by the grace of Jesus Christ.” Mary, then, is the indispensable Mother of the Christian soul. In her womb we are conceived in grace-that is, made one in baptism with Jesus Christ, her Blessed and Divine First-Born; and there we may grow during life, one body and one spirit with Him, our only Cause of Grace, till, through the birth of death, Mary brings us forth to life eternal. The Holy Ghost, pervading Mary, works with her that growth and sanctification. She once more conceives by the power of the Holy Ghost, Who is the life and soul of the Mystical Body; and over all is the Author of all Grace Himself, the Eternal Father. In this synthesis of the divine plan of Redemption we see at a glance the all-important role that Mary plays. This is the only true and solidly-doctrinal synthesis of Christian truths; any other is partial and incomplete.

“THE TRUE DEVOTION”

It is for this reason that the “True Devotion to Our Blessed Lady,” by St. Grignion de Montfort, has been the textbook and basis of all Legion doctrine and devotion. Such a departure was this remarkable book from the general idea of devotion to Mary that even to-day to many Catholics, even deeplyreligious souls, the “True Devotion” is regarded as a pious, but misguided, enthusiasm. Mary’s privileges in the Divine Economy are so far beyond our comprehension that just appreciation of her is thought to be romantic excess. When de Montfort complains that it is because Mary is not sufficiently formed in the hearts of men that so few of them come to the fulness of the age of Christ, we think it is but a picturesque expression. We think that Mary is in some way a digression from God-a devotional one, of course, but still a digression. But such is not the mind of God nor of His Church. God Himself it was Who first began to tell of her and to sketch out for her a destiny unquestionably unique. From the first the idea of her was present to the Eternal Father, along with that of the Redeemer, of Whose destiny she formed part. The Heavenly Father placed her side by side with His Son in the plan of Redemption. He went even further; that plan was to be submitted to her and made conditional on her acceptance. Does not everything else pale beside this stupendous fact! That free decision of her faith opened up a way to God; in it she received the Son of God on behalf of all humanity. Step by step the drama of the Incarnation reaches its climax in the Act of Redemption, and it finds Mary at the foot of the Cross, offering up her Divine Son on behalf of the redeemed human race, and in her role on Calvary she merited the right to dispense all graces purchased by the sacrifice of her Son.

MEDIATRIX OF ALL GRACES

Thus her motherhood did not finish at Bethlehem, nor at Cana, nor at Calvary. A second mystical incarnation took place on Calvary when, at the words of her Son to St. John, “Behold thy Mother,” and to her, “Woman, behold thy Son,” she assumed her motherhood of all redeemed man-kind and His Mystical Body. Hence, as we are members of Christ’s Body, of His Flesh and of His Bones (Eph. v., 30), so, with equal necessity, reality, and fulness, are we children of Mary, His Mother. It is in her bosom, moulded ever more and more admirably to His likeness by her unremitting care, that we grow into the perfect Man, Who is Christ, and come unto the measure of the age of His fulness (Eph. iv, 13); and without her this, our destiny, is not achieved. Such is the Divine arrangement. Though she is, in comparison with her Maker, veritably as nothing, nevertheless, the Eternal Father has thus intimately associated her to His Redemptive scheme in such a way that, as no grace proceeds other than by Jesus Christ, so none will be received other than through Mary. She is as definitely part of the Divine dispensation as Our Blessed Lord Himself-subordinate to, and utterly dependent on Him of course, but nonetheless an integral and vital portion of the Divine way of grace; an all-important supplement to what we offer and the invariable channel of what we receive. “All the predestinate, in order to be conformed to the image of the Son of God, are in this world hidden in the womb of the most Holy Virgin, where they are guarded, nourished, brought up, and made to grow by that good Mother until she has brought them forth to glory after death which is properly the day of their birth, as the Church calls the death of the Just.” This thought forms the central principle of the “True Devotion,” but the words are not de Montfort’s. They were written by St. Augustine, the Doctor of Grace, sixteen hundred years ago, and did not even then represent new teaching in the Church. Indeed, as de Montfort says, the devotion is bound up with the very roots of Christianity. What is it but the putting into logical and detailed practice of the Church’s teaching on the Mystical Body? If the idea of the Mystical Body and its implication are grasped, not only does the doctrine of de Montfort’s “True Devotion” emerge with perfect clearness, but it will be seen that it represents the minimum of what is due to Mary. By reason of heir universal Motherhood, Mary has been rightly styled Mediatrix of All Graces. As she is the Mother of the Author of Grace and the Spouse of the Holy Ghost, by union with her we place ourselves in the very floodtide of grace. “Because of Mary’s intimate union with the Passion of her Son, all the graces which we draw from the treasury of the Redemption are distributed by the hands of the Virgin of Sorrows.” (Pope Benedict XV, “A.A.S.,” x, p. 182.)

Such is the doctrinal and devotional basis of the Legion of Mary, the universal mediation of Mary as Mother of the Mystical Body of Christ. It is an inspiring doctrine. It is a doctrine which, when properly grasped, becomes a never-ending source of energy to the legionary in his apostolate and a constant stimulus to his own personal sanctification. Every detail of Legion organisation is ordered towards the inculcation of this doctrine and the Legion seeks, through its apostolate, to make this outlook and devotion a common-place of Catholic life throughout the Church.

2 . THE SPIRIT OF THE LEGION IN THE INDIVIDUAL

“It has been stressed that the sanctification of the members is the first object of the Legion. It is, moreover, the primary means of action, for only in the measure that the legionary possesses grace can he be the channel of it to others. Hence, it is that the legionary begins his membership by a request to be filled, through Mary, with the Holy Spirit, and to be used as an instrument of His power, which is to renew the face of the earth.” (Handbook.) The first duty, then, of a legionary is to advance in holiness by developing his union with Christ and Mary. From this union two things should result: First of all, he will come to regard the Christian life as a growth in this union. He will come to understand the continuity of the life of grace with the life of heaven. The life to come is not just a reward in exchange for good done, but the flowering of the life of grace. going to heaven is not so much a transportation as a transformation: we grow into heaven. As St. Thomas teaches, grace is a certain commencement in us of eternal life. Grace is glory in exile; glory is grace at home. Intimacy with God, through Jesus and Mary, becomes, therefore, for the legionary the goal of human life, both here and hereafter. Virtue has now a new meaning, sin an added horror, the Christian struggle a stronger incentive.

The second result of that union with Jesus and Mary is the development of the legionaries” own characters and external traits. Today, in a mechanised and levelled-down world, people have a monotonous sameness about them. A well-developed character we brand as original and novel, something out of the ordinary. Now, a legionary, in acquiring the spirit of the Legion, develops his character in the fullest sense, and those who have come in contact with the Legion have seen what an extraordinary variety of personalities go to make up a Legion Group. That union with Jesus and Mary has the paradoxical effect of making legionaries highly individual, and yet bound by closest ties of loyalty one to another, to the Legion and to the Church. That union is intensified through the Mass and the sacramental system. “To the Mass must the legionary have recourse if a plenteous sharing in the gifts of Redemption is desired for oneself and for others,” for “the whole purpose of the Legion of Mary consists in the making of its members holy, so that they in turn may bring holiness to the other members of the Mystical Body. Now the Eucharist is the centre and source of grace; therefore, it must be the very keystone of the LegionaryScheme.” (Handbook.) In turn, that union of the legionary with Christ and Mary intensifies his act of worship, for in his act of adoration “he must seek to identify himself with Mary and to meditate on the mysteries of the Redemption through that supremely faithful soul who lived them with the Saviour and in them played an indispensable part. The legionary, lost in the depths of Mary’s soul, shares her faith, her humility, her Immaculate Heart (and hence the potency of her prayer), and swiftly is transformed into Christ, which is the object of all life.” (Handbook.)

From this realisation of union with Mary in the worship of her Son comes the urge to participate more fully in the public homage paid through the Liturgy to God by the Mystical Body. To fosterthat desire to “pray with the Church” there is in the Legion a degree of active membership called Praetorian. Praetorian membership requires:

1. The daily recitation of the entire Legion prayers;

2. Daily Mass and Holy Communion;

3. The daily recitation of some form of Office approved by the Church, such as the Little Office of the Blessed Virgin, the Little Office of the Immaculate Conception, the Franciscan Office (if Tertiaries), or, preferably, a substantial portion (i.e., Matins and Lauds, or the Day Hours) of the Divine Office.

This Praetorian membership brings out once more the true spiritual basis of the Legion. It is not an extra duty grafted on; it is the full flowering of active membership, and is the goal to be aimed at by every member of the Legion. A glance at the obligations shows the parallel between its obligations and those of a priest. Daily Mass, the Office, and the Rosary are the columns of the priest’s spiritual life-they become the same for the legionary. Praetorian membership is but another aspect of the profound realisation by the Legion of the lay-priesthood and the lay apostolate arising therefrom.

3. THE SPIRIT OF THE LEGION IN THE APOSTOLATE

The apostolate is the necessary outcome of the spirit of the Legion in the individual. For the legionary the apostolate consists in bringing Mary to the world, that every soul may be bound up in Christ. This “apostolate is built upon the fact that the main channels of Grace are the Mass and the Sacramental system, of which the priest is the essential minister. All the strivings and expedients of that apostolate must have in view this great end: the bringing of the divinelyappointed nourishment to the multitude, sick, and hungering.” (Handbook.) And who gives nourishment but the Mother? Only through Mary, the Mother of the Mystical Body, is that body fed; all sacramental graces come through her from the Holy Ghost operating in her. Hence the Legion aims to bring Mary to the world as the infallible means of winning the world to Jesus. But to bring Mary to the world does not mean to call her to our aid in our service of the other members of the Mystical Body. It is she who summons us to aid her. As Mother of the Mystical Body, she has the divinely-appointed task of nourishing and caring for the Mystical Body of her Son, and to fulfil this task she summons us to help her; and rightly so, for membership of Christ’s Body imposes on us the obligation of the apostolate. “The apostolate is one of the duties inherent in the Christian life. If we ponder upon it we shall see that the Sacraments of Baptism and Confirmation impose-among other duties-this Apostolate of Catholic Action, which is a spiritual service of our neighbour. Through Confirmation we become soldiers of Christ; a soldier must labour and fight, not so much for himself as for others. . . . Baptism also, in a way less obvious, imposes the duty of the apostolate, since, through it, we become members of the Church, the Mystical Body of Christ.” (Pius XI.)

The legionary is a soldier of Christ. To Christ, His King, he swears allegiance, but to do so he must swear allegiance to the head of the army, Mary. In waging her war on the devil, in crushing, the head of the serpent, to advance the reign of Christ she has raised up an Army, a Legion. That Legion ,has pledged loyalty and devotion to her, who is “Terrible as an army, set in battle array” (Antiphon at Lauds, Assumption of Our Lady; Canticles vi, 9.) As an army it develops through its system all those virtues of loyalty, courage, blind obedience; and Perseverance which are essential for victory. In addition, there has been found in the soldiers of all the great armies of history a devotion of a passionate sort to their leader, intensifying union with him and rendering easy the sacrifices which the execution of his plan called for; and so it is in Mary’s army, for she instils into every soldier of it an idealism which burns within them. She has become the leader and ideal of a Christian chivalry such as the Middle Ages never knew. Under her standard they advance, invincible and irresistible, for they are efficient in organisation as no army has been before, and within their hearts burns the flame of divine love and in their minds the torch of the knowledge which is of God. He Who is mighty hath done great things to her, and will continue to do great things to her through her army, for He hath regarded her humility and fortified those who most passionately have called her blessed. Her army will advance until the reign of Mary, foretold by St. Grignion de Montfort, has arrived. That reign will come, for Mary, the battle of life over, must present to her Divine Son, when He comes again in glory, His Mystical Body, each member matured and developed, each member able to exclaim: “And I live, now not I, but Christ liveth in me.” That is the day the Legion prays and works for and under Mary’s leadership it advances towards that day. In the Legion of Mary knight-errantry lives again. A new age of Christian chivalry has dawned.

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The Holiness of Married Life

H.E. CARDINAL GODFREY D.D., PH.D. ARCHBISHOP OF WESTMINSTER

INDEX

It is generally known that Pope Pius XI introduced the custom of receiving in special audience newly-married couples who came from all parts of Italy and the world to spend part at least of their honeymoon in Rome. The Holy Father made it quite clear that their presence was a joy to his heart, and he encouraged the custom to the extent of hiring special cars to take them out to Castel Gandolfo to be received in audience, even during the hot summer months.

The Vicar of Christ was wont to give beautiful addresses to these couples on such occasions, and there was a continued insistence on the beauty of married love as an image of the love between Christ and His Spouse the Church, a fruitful love blessed by numerous offspring in the order of grace, that is to say, in the Church, or in the order of nature, as in the family.

Thinking of these gatherings in the Pontifical Palace at Castel Gandolfo, hard by the Alban Lake, one is forcibly reminded of the sermons of Our Lord by the lakeside and of His presence in the town of Cana at the marriage-feast, where He not only hallowed the union by His presence, but came to the aid of the host by making good, miraculously, the shortage of wine. Truly it is good to think that these newly-founded families, as the Pope often called them, fragrant with the grace of the Sacrament of Matrimony, come and stand before the Vicar of Christ on earth to receive from him words of advice and to have his blessing on the homes which they are about to establish. We are reminded of the words ofSt Peter: “Lord, to whom shall we go? Thou hast the words of eternal life.”

From him who stands in the place of Christ the husband and wife come to receive their first admonition and kneel beneath his hand raised in blessing over them and the Christian household over which they will preside.

Pius XI was wont to remind them that the offspring whom God in His goodness would give them would be sacred charges for which they should give thanks remembering always their responsibility for the Christian education of these little ones to the greater glory of God. It is to be observed that the Pope always insisted on the primary purpose of the creation of the souls of the children, and brought home to the future parents the dignity that was to be theirs in preparing the material bodies which those souls were to inhabit, and which they would use to fulfil the sublime purpose of human life. God and the parents working together as principal cause and as instruments, divinely chosen and suitably endowed, bring into being a new person, the child fashioned to the likeness of the ever-blessed Trinity. Any idea of the fruitfulness of race in order that numerous progeny may serve primarily to swell the ranks of big battalions, an idea so acceptable to the military-minded, is, of course, foreign to Catholic theology, and Pius XI was at pains, from time to time, to emphasize the fact that when he spoke of large families he had in mind the glory of God and considered that glory the first thing to which everything else was secondary and subservient.

It is quite Catholic to regard the child as one who may lawfully be called to take up arms on behalf of his country, or indeed in any good cause, but the Popes deplore the misguided exhortations of those who would glorify the fruitfulness of the race as a means primarily to multiply the ranks of army, navy, or air force.

The Popes in their letters and addresses do not hesitate to remind us of what the Holy Spirit says through the mouth of the psalmist:

“Scatter the nations that wish for war.”

No! fruitful families are fruitful primarily unto God, and the purposes of marriage must not be twisted to serve the baser ends of ambition and unbridled national aggrandizement.

God, is a God of peace, and the psalmist prays that “thy children may be as olive plants round about thy table.” The olive signifies peace. The words placed on the lips of the priest by the Church, as he enters a home in order to bless it, are: “Peace be to this house.” Primarily is meant the peace of soul, but, again, God tells us to pray that there may be “peace in our strength and plenty within our towers.” He bestows peace on both families and nations. He is the “Author and Lover of peace.”

THE MYSTICAL BODY OF CHRIST

Much is said and written in these days about the Church as the Mystical Body of Christ. It is a subject that needs careful handling lest the analogy be pushed too far. But, briefly, the doctrine is this: The Church is living a life which is, in a sense, the continued life of Christ on earth. That is why Our Lord was able to rebuke Saul of Tarsus, afterwards the great St Paul, in these striking words:

“Saul, Saul, why persecutest thou Me?”

Saul’s efforts against the Christians were an attack on Christ, on that Body which Christ Jesus had founded to preach His doctrines, and which He had promised would have a continued life-giving stream of strength or grace flowing out from Himself in the same way as the vine sends out its sap from the centre to all the branches.

The Apostles Peter and Paul gave us other illustrations of this doctrine. Paul likened us to members of the Body of Christ. Just as the eye or the hand has its particular function in our bodily life, so we, each of us, have a particular function with regard to the life of the whole Church, the Body of Christ.

Peter tells us we are stones in the building, and that the corner-stone of the building is Christ Jesus. Now let us apply this teaching to Christian marriage. The Apostle Paul in a well-known passage in the fifth chapter of the Epistle to the Ephesians explains that the union between man and wife in the Christian dispensation is a likeness of the union between Christ and His Church. Husbands are thus admonished:

“Love your wives, as Christ also loved the Church and delivered himself up for it, that he might sanctify it, cleansing it by the layer of water in the word of life; . . . So also ought men to love their wives as their own bodies. . . . For this cause shall a man leave his father and mother, and shall cleave to his wife, and they shall be two in one flesh. This is a great mystery, but I speak in Christ and in the Church.”-EPH. v. 25–32.

The union between Christ and the Church, therefore, considered both in its nature and in its purpose is placed before us as a model according to which Christian wedlock should be shaped.

Let us think a little about this union of Our Lord with His Church.

The three purposes of matrimony are the bringing of children into the world, the education of those children, and the mutual help and companionship of husband and wife.

Now in the first place the union between Our Lord and the Church His Bride is certainly a fruitful union. Children are continually being born in the order of grace in the Church. Their birth is that of which the divine Bridegroom spoke to Nicodemus, who was puzzled when our Saviour told him that he must be born again. Our Lord instructed him, and he was given to understand that the birth of which He spoke was a birth of water and the Holy Ghost, that is to say, the birth given to a child when the waters of Baptism flow over its head and the minister of God pronounces words placed on his lips by the Church of God; words by which he declares that the child is cleansed in the name of the three divine Persons. A new life is given to the child, and this is intended to perfect the life which the parents have been instrumental in giving to it in the process of human generation.

The Church is a fruitful mother through the union with the divine Bridegroom, and so, likewise, is the wife through union with her husband in the Sacrament of Matrimony. Just as it is sinful to oppose the work of the Church by preventing her from preaching the gospel and baptizing, so also would it be sinful to interfere with those divinely appointed processes whereby the union of man and woman is intended to bring forth children unto God in the order of nature. God commanded that the first man and woman should “increase and multiply and fill the earth”: and Jesus Christ bade His apostles to go everywhere among the nations and beget children in the order of grace in the Sacrament of Baptism. This twofold fruitfulness is essential for the fulfilment of the divine behest.

Then, in the second place, it is a fact open and evident to all that the Church through her union with Christ is able to educate those children when they have been born again in the waters of Baptism. Her system of education is known and admired far and wide. Missionaries arriving in a new territory at once build schools wherein those newly born in the faith of Christ may receive that instruction which they need for the development of their Christian life.

Thus, in this also, the Church and her Bridegroom are a model for the union in Christian wedlock of husband and wife.

The Church through her authoritative divine commission, and guided by Christ in the moral code and creed which she teaches, builds up the characters of her children and makes them strong unto Christ. Similarly father and mother, in the order of nature, must take care to build up both body and soul of the child and place it in such conditions that the maternal hand of the Church may complete what they have begun.

Thirdly, in the union between Christ and His Church there is constantly mutual companionship and interchange of gifts. The Church co-operating with Our Lord enjoys His continual help promised to her in the words:

“Behold I am with you all days, even to the consummation of the world.”

She has His abiding presence, so full of solace and support, in the Blessed Sacrament of the altar. The stability of the Church is the effect of her being rooted in Christ and upheld by Him. His divine gifts are always at the disposal of His Bride the Church. His Vicar on earth, the Holy Father, is ever guiding the flock of Christ, and leading it along the narrow way which is the way of salvation. It is the knowledge of this fact which has led his children to describe the Pope as the “gentle Christ on earth,” a description which calls attention to the eminently Christ-like work which he is given to do for the Church.

This union of Christ the Bridegroom and of the Church His Bride is one that remains forever. It is a union whose bond will never be broken. Similarly, the union of man and woman in the great Sacrament of the New Law is, according to the teaching of the Church, one which no merely human power can break. Thus, husband and wife living together all the days of their lives “until death do them part,” are loving each other “as Christ loved the Church”; and such a faithful and uninterrupted sharing of common life is an image of the union of Our Lord with His Bride the Church. It is, so to say, the after-glow of the splendour of the life of the divine Bridegroom with His Bride the Catholic Church.

There is, moreover, the love of Christ for His Church which no storm nor shock can ever weaken or destroy. Our Lord has pledged Himself to His Bride the Church “for better or for worse, in sickness and in health.” Times certainly can be better or worse for the Church, as the pages of history make manifest. Storm after storm has broken over her. Men have risen whose object was to crush her. She has reeled under blow after blow. She has been driven from the light of day to burrow underground and set up altars in hidden places. She has been sick and wounded, and sick unto death, as her enemies imagined. Yet she has survived, and her sickness has been, as was that of Lazarus, for the glory of God. The Bridegroom, Christ Jesus, was always at hand to call her forth from the hidden places, to loose the bonds that bound her, and to bid her continue her work. It will always be so. The divine promise upholds her. The gates of hell shall not prevail.

GRACE TO OVERCOME DIFFICULTIES

Husband and wife in Christian wedlock should be reminded of this fidelity of Our Lord to His Church, and should face the difficulties of their married life strong in the trust that the Lord Jesus will not allow even the worst troubles to weaken the bond of love which they fashioned at the foot of the altar. Under the influence of the strengthening grace of a Sacrament which Jesus Christ made precisely for that end, husband and wife are able to surmount all the trials and difficulties of their holy state. Let them remember in the darkest days that the Lord is nigh. The storm broke over the lake of Galilee and threatened to engulf the disciples, but the Lord Jesus was not unmindful of their peril, and, at the moment chosen by Himself He rose and quelled the raging winds and silenced the roaring sea. He is with husband and wife, likewise, to strengthen and to comfort, provided that they do not neglect the grace that was given them when they placed hand in hand at the foot of Christ’s altar. His part in the sacramental contract never fails. Let the married couple remember what Catholic theology teaches, namely, that sacramental grace is given them, beyond any doubt, containing all the virtue necessary for every phase and every joy and sorrow of their married life. Their part must be played by union with Christ Jesus and by the observance of His commandments and by constant prayer.

THE NUPTIAL MASS

The important truth which we have considered, namely, that the union of the man and woman in wedlock is holy because it is a likeness of the union between Christ and His Church, leads us on to say that a wedding which takes place with a Nuptial Mass is clearly the most fitting way to begin so holy a state of life.

The Holy Mass is Christ’s oblation of self for the world. What more fitting, therefore, than that whilst He makes His oblation of self at the altar, the husband and wife should make their united oblation, first of themselves to God, and then of the one to the other, pledging themselves in union with the oblation of Christ, and under its powerful, hallowing and strengthening influence.

Thus the Church, in the Nuptial Mass, bids her priest turn to th e bride and bridegroom after the Lord’s prayer and admonish them that marriage is an institution for the increase of mankind, which is made by God; that He it is whose authority has joined these two persons together, and that he, the priest, prays, in the name of the Church, that what God’s authority has joined together may be kept by God’s help.

Beautiful indeed is the prayer which follows. It should be read and pondered by all persons on the eve of marriage, and particularly by those who receive the sacrament in the sublime setting of a Nuptial Mass. It begins by recalling that God, after setting in order the elements of the universe, made man to God’s image, and afterwards made the body of the woman from the body of the man, appointing the woman to be man’s inseparable helpmate. There follows the invoking of God in these words:

“O God who hast hallowed wedlock by a mystery so great that in the marriage bond Thou didst foreshadow the union of Christ with the Church; O God by whom woman is, joined to man, and that union which Thou didst ordain from the beginning is endowed with a blessing which alone was not taken away, either by the punishment for original sin, or by the sentence of the flood; look in Thy mercy on this Thy handmaid, who is to be joined in wedlock and entreats protection and strength from Thee. May the yoke of love and of peace be upon her. True and chaste may she wed in Christ; and may she ever follow the pattern of holy women; and may she be dear to her husband like Rachel; wise like Rebecca; long-lived and faithful like Sara. May the author of deceit work none of his evil deeds within her. May she be ever knit to the faith and to the commandments. May she fortify her weakness by strong discipline. May she be grave in demeanour and honoured for her modesty. May she be well taught in heavenly lore. May she be fruitful in offspring. May her life be good and sinless. May she win the rest of the blessed and the kingdom of heaven.”

Noteworthy in that prayer addressed to the bride are the words “may she wed in Christ,” which express, in brief, the thoughts which we have put before the reader regarding the union of Christ and His Church and its reflected likeness in the union of bridegroom and bride. At this part of the Nuptial Mass, the Church prays for the bride, and tells her all that God wishes for her and from her in this state of wedlock hallowed by Jesus Christ now in the holy Sacrifice of the Mass. We may consider, too, that the divine Bridegroom prays without ceasing in similar terms for His Bride the Catholic Church.

“True and chaste may she wed in Christ.” The grace of purity and chastity is bestowed abundantly on those who enter the state of wedlock with the resolution, humbly made and loyally preserved, to live chastely in Christ. All that pertains to the purposes of wedlock, namely, the processes of generation of offspring, the upbringing thereof, and the mutual helpful companionship of husband and wife in the surrendering of themselves one to the other, is an expression of the divine plan, and is therefore most beautiful and holy. The right attitude on the part of husband and wife to the duties and obligations of their state, therefore, will enable them with the grace of God to “wed chastely in Christ.” All is chaste where all is done according to the divine plan. Attempts to frustrate God’s designs by using the married state for the purpose of self-gratification, with the consequent subordination of the primary God-given purpose to purposes planned by man’s sensual appetites, make of wedlock an ugly unchaste thing, wherein the husband and wife are certainly not living as “wed in Christ.”

Husband and wife, instruments in the hands of the Most High for the realization of His plan that the human race should increase and multiply, are given the privilege of co-operating with the heavenly Father in the generation of His children. Life is sacred to God. Neither at its sacred end nor at its sacred source can human authority usurp a power that belongs to the Maker alone.

It is beyond the scope of this paper to say anything more on this particular subject. Suffice it to say to the perplexed, or to those whose ideas on chastity in the married state are assailed by specious argument, that the true idea of Christian marriage may be found in the teaching of Holy Church, in her theology, tradition, and liturgy, all summed up so clearly and convincingly in the Encyclical on “Chaste Wedlock” given to us by Pius XI.

I have said enough, I think, to show that the man and woman who are about to enter upon the holy state of wedlock should endeavour to understand how great is the dignity of such a state, and what precisely is meant by being “wed in Christ”

On their practical understanding of this will depend essentially their future happiness. The union of Our Lord and His Church, its fruitfulness, its admirable care of its children, its beautiful companionship resting on the strengthening influence of the Bridegroom and the loving co-operation of the Bride with mutual interchange of activity-all this will be to husband and wife a pattern and inspiration.

ENTHRONEMENT OF THE SACRED HEART

Now, however, I would like to add that both Pope Pius XI and his successor, Pius XII, themselves personally urged upon the newly-married their duty of making their homes holy by living therein a truly Christian life. It is not without a special disposition of Providence and the guidance of the Holy Ghost that, in these days, there has been placed before us a concrete way of making Our Lord reign in our homes. I refer to the work which is known as the Enthronement of the Sacred Heart in the home. It will be admitted quite readily that the setting up of an image or picture of the Sacred Heart in our houses is quite a secondary thing compared with the essential, namely, the practical recognition of Our Lord’s sovereignty in our family life. Nevertheless, we are creatures of sense, and it is because of this that the Church, wise and experienced mother that she is, has always encouraged her children to make use of concrete representations of holy things. That is the whole explanation of the Catholic teaching regarding statues and images, just as it is the explanation of statues and monuments set up by the State to remind its citizens of great men or deeds of national glory.

What, in effect, the Enthronement of Christ in the home does for us is to remind us of Christ in our midst. A little sanctuary is made where the image of Our Lord is placed. Perhaps a lamp may burn before it always, or on certain feast-days, but this is of course a matter of secondary importance, and to be decided by the head of the family.

The main thing is to make Our Lord the centre of all the life in the home. The children must be taught to recognize that their lives are in the hands of God, and that Jesus is King and centre of all hearts. The parents should form the habit of taking them in front of the little sanctuary in the home where they can see the image of Our Lord and remind themselves of God made man, Christ Our Lord and Saviour. They may be taught, too, to say a little prayer before they set out for school in the morning and to give thanks when they return. These are little acts of love of God, and will leave a lasting impression on the little ones which the passing years will not efface.

The father and mother will teach first by their example, and then by their words of advice and encouragement, and it should be quite an ordinary occurrence in the family life that Our Lord’s name is mentioned, and that His words and deeds are spoken of as the pattern on which the life of all should be modelled. This will make each home another Bethany, where Our Lord is considered as an ever-welcome guest in the family circle and at the family table. With Jesus Christ the day will begin and with Him it will close, as the family gathers round the little shrine, however humble it may be, and having thanked the King and Lord for all that has happened during the day, whether joyful or sorrowful, commends its repose to Him, and goes to rest.

In a family such as this, where Our Lord truly reigns, and where His love abounds, all the experiences of family life will have His blessing. We must remember the words of the bridegroom which he spoke at the foot of the altar when he “plighted his troth,”saying that he took his wife “for better and for worse, in sickness and in health, till death do us part.” There will be times when all goes smoothly, and when joyful laughter is heard in the family circle. Yet we all know that there is no family to whom sickness and sorrow do not come, and such trials as these are expected by the Christian, because “the servant is not above the Master,” and the Master, Himself a cross-bearer, goes before us carrying His cross. Inspired by His example, we follow bravely after Him.

In times of joy and good news the family that has chosen Christ for its King goes to its shrine and thanks Him for the graces and gifts that have fallen to it from the hands of God. This spirit of gratitude will give joy to the heart of Our Lord and lead Him to bestow more and more of His benefits.

There comes, inevitably, the time of bereavement, when loved ones are taken from the family circle. Then, too, it will be the practice of the Christian household to say its prayer of resignation and to look bravely into the face of the Masterand say His own prayer, “yet not my will but Thine be done.”

THE BLESSINGS OF THE RITUAL

It will be well to observe here that as the state of wedlock is a likeness of the union between Our Lord and His Church, we may expect the Church, guided by the divine Bridegroom, to show her care for, and interest in, the various circumstances of family life. I would like to call attention to the blessings in the Ritual for which every family should be grateful, and which it should be glad to use. These are the blessing of the mother before childbirth, and the blessing of the sick child, the blessing of infants, the blessing of boys and girls by the priest, in the church, or in the home, and the blessing and sprinkling of the house with holy water at Eastertide. The family whose life is “in Christ” will set great store by such blessings given to it with all the weighty authority of Holy Church, and will not fail to ask the priest to bestow them when occasion offers. It will be noticed how the Church constantly reminds us of the dignity and beauty of parenthood. For example, in the prayer over the mother with child we are reminded how Our Lord gave joy to St John the Baptist when he was still in the womb of his mother, and how Our Lady’s motherhood was given to her through the cooperation of the Holy Spirit. Then the Church bids us remember that whatever human skill may be employed in bringing about a safe delivery, it is the hand of the divine mercy which lifts the child from his mother’s womb to the light of day. Full of comfort, too, is the prayer which, in the same ceremony, calls upon God’s angels to encompass the mother about and protect her and her offspring so that the Almighty God may lead them both, in the time to come, to everlasting light.

These blessings, taken in conjunction with the prayers of the marriage ceremony and of the Nuptial Mass, are the voice of Holy Church, and it will be realized on reading the Encyclical Christian Marriage of Pius XI, together with that of Leo XIII on the Christian family, that the voice of the Church is always the same. The dignity of Christian wedlock is constantly proclaimed, its sacred character is eloquently defended, and its holy purposes are explained and extolled. The legislative authority of the secular arm has been so accommodating to the passions and caprices of mankind that, wittingly or unwittingly, it has entered into partnership with the enemies of Christ, to undermine a divine institution which, if it be venerated according to the law of God, is the very bulwark of right order in the Christian State. It has been said by many in recent years that the world suffers because of its flouting of the divine law. Has not the world abandoned in great part the reverence for the marriage bond so venerated by our forefathers in this land?

Divorce has separated father and mother and children. Unnatural practices have restricted the population and incurred the wrath of the Most High. Now He has allowed the world to be ravaged by war. Families are divided in a way which is none of their own choosing, and the population of the world is being reduced by violent and bloody means. In a word, may we say the tables are turned, and the vicious practices of man have reaped their own reward. It is only by our return to the law of Christ Jesus that God will be moved to have pity upon us. There can be no rebuilding of Europe worthy of the name unless it be done according to the laws of Christ, obedience to which has given to Europe in the past all that makes its history noble and good.

Statesmen would be well advised to concentrate their attention on the well-being of the Christian family, and to safeguard the bond that binds man to woman in Christian marriage at the foot of the altar of the Lord. There is such a thing as Christian democracy and freedom, terms which are so much vaunted in these days. But freedom is not licence, nor does “government by the people and for the people” mean that the vicious tendencies of human nature may bring such pressure to bear on rulers that the bonds with which Christ bound the State should be untied and passion allowed to quicken its hurried pace along the broad road that leads to damnation. Christ told us that the narrow way led to salvation. The truly broad-minded man is one who takes a comprehensive view of human obligations in the light of the teaching of Jesus Christ. Hence the narrow way is trod by broad-minded people. It is on the broad way that there run hither and thither the many whose view of the universe leaves out of consideration the law of God as revealed by Jesus Christ. That broad way is trod by a narrow-minded crowd jostling each other in a mad search for a pleasure that does not satisfy and that depraves the nature which God has given us.

Right views concerning the Christian family will save the State from disaster. The Popes have commended most warmly the practice of consecrating families to Christ in the way which I have tried to explain in this booklet.

A PERSONAL NOTE

Now may I conclude on a personal note? Knowing as I did the wish of Pope Pius XI, and having read his beautiful addresses to the newly-married, I tried, when I came as Apostolic Delegate to Great Britain, to encourage the devotion of the Enthronement of Christ in the home. This devotion has the approval of at least four Popes, and it has attached to it the magnificent promises made to the saint of the Sacred Heart, Margaret Mary Alacoque. I most warmly commend it. Those who set up the shrine of Our Lord in the home and make Him the King of their family will receive a most bountiful outpouring of graces and gifts. They will receive the graces necessary for them in all the changing circumstances of family life. Beneath their roof, be it ever so lowly, Christ will reign; and the powerful and kindly influence of His presence will fill the hearts of parents and children. I commend this devotion, therefore, most warmly, and if the reader of these words has not yet invited the priest to enthrone Jesus Christ in his home, let him not delay. “Behold I stand at the gate and knock.” Open therefore to Jesus Christ, and as He crosses the threshold, with Him will enter His blessed Mother and His foster-father to fill the household with the grace that will make it the living image of that home wherein Jesus Himself dwelt during the time of His sojourn amongst men.

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The Holiness of Saint Joan of Arc

ETIENNE ROBO

INDEX

St Joan stands alone in history. Many women have found sanctity in the cloister, some have shown bravery in battle, but no other ever trained herself to holiness in a soldier’s camp, and surely no female saint ever died at the stake condemned by an ecclesiastical tribunal as a witch and a heretic.

Her story is incredible, but true: it rests on the most abundant and clear evidence.{ This booklet is based throughout on a critical reading of the original sources, not on second-hand evidence.} She was a peasant girl of no importance and before she was eighteen her intervention had already changed the course of European history for centuries to come. When she died at nineteen, thanks to her, the French had become conscious of being a nation, England had lost all hopes of ever being a Continental power, and Burgundy, the arbiter of the destinies of France, was soon again to be her vassal.

We cannot explain this by a mere recital of the diplomatic and military history of the times. The hand of God clearly appeared in these events. Joan of Arc was the tool He chose to accomplish His work: she is the explanation of the miraculous reversal of the fortunes of France which followed her appearance on the stage of history; but she was a saint first, and, therefore, in this little pamphlet you must expect to find more about Joan the woman and the saint than about Joan the warrior. Were it not for her trust and faith in God, and for her inflexible resolve “to serve God first” she would in time, like her friends, Mengette and Hauviette, have married some poor labourer and lived and died in some obscure hamlet of Lorraine.

CHILDHOOD

She was born in January 1412 in the little village of Domremy on the borders of Lorraine. The house where she spent her childhood, the church where she made her first communion still exist, not very much altered. They still show to the visitors, at the back of the living-room, another one, very small and dark, which is said to have been hers. Its tiny and deep window opens towards the church across the road, so that when Joan said her prayers she could almost feel that she was kneeling before the altar. In the church—still in use after more than five (nearly six) centuries—is the grey stone baptismal font over which she was held by half-a-dozen Godparents when Jean Minet, the parish priest, baptized her. Against one of the columns you see the statue of St Margaret which she decked often with wreaths of flowers.

Hers was a Christian home. Her father, Jacquot d’Arc, and Isabel his wife were described by their neighbours at the second trial as “good Catholics,” “true Catholics.” He was a small farmer who owned his house, and forty acres of good land. Joan’s three brothers helped their father on the farm—24 acres were under the plough—while Joan helped her mother at home. We cannot exaggerate the influence of that good woman on the formation of the heart and mind of her daughter, and on her religious development. “My mother,” said Joan to her judges at Rouen, “taught me Pater Noster, Ave Maria, Credo and no one besides my mother taught me my beliefs.” Isabel d’Arc could not read or write: neither could St Joan, yet how well the one taught, how well the other learnt. We have only to read the minutes of the trial to perceive at once that the religion of our saint was not one of conventional practices, of interested and almost superstitious devotions, but one that went down to the essentials: Obedience to God, horror of sin (I should be the saddest of women if I thought myself to be in mortal sin), the practice of prayer, a great love for the Mass, and for our Lord in the Blessed Sacrament, frequent confession and communion.

The religious teaching given by Isabel to her daughter seems to have been very thorough. The answers of St Joan to her judges on the subject of grace or the workings of God’s Providence amongst men are astonishing, not in their wording and conciseness alone, but in the theological knowledge they imply. The judges asked her: “Are you in a state of grace, Joan?”

“If I am not, God put me there,” she replied; “if I am, please God so keep me.”

To an examiner at Poitiers who suggested that “if God wills to save France it is not necessary to have soldiers,” she answered: “In God’s name the soldiers will fight and God will give the victory.” “Act and God will act, work and He will work” is a saying of hers which expresses the same idea. Unlettered as she was, Isabel could serve as a model to many a Catholic mother who boasts of a good education but cannot teach her children their religion.

She taught Joan to work as well as to pray. In a busy season she would help in the field with hay-making and harvesting, handling pitchfork and sickle like everyone else; often she would watch the sheep; when they heard enemy soldiers were approaching, she would even drive the cattle to safety; but usually she was to be found working with her mother at home. She was fond of work and when as a girl of seventeen she was in the king’s service and following the movements of the royal court from one town to another and lodging with important ladies, she did not sit there, her hands in her lap, content to listen to their frivolous conversations. “She was never idle,” said one of them later on. And if nothing else offered, there was always a distaff and spindle handy for her ready fingers. Did she not boast once to her judges that as for spinning and sewing she was ready to compete with any woman in Rouen!

Jacquot, her father, cannot have given the same attention to his daughter’s education as Isabel, but his stern attitude towards evil must have impressed her deeply. Having dreamt one night that she had gone away with the king’s soldiers as a camp-follower, he spoke next day very strongly on the subject. “If she ever wanted to do such a thing, you should drown her first,” he said to his sons. “If you did not, I would drown her myself, with my own hands.” And he meant it. This little episode throws a vivid light on the home in which Joan spent the first seventeen years of her life.

At her trial, the judges plied her with questions concerning her childhood and even her amusements, and thanks to this circumstance we are indebted for some precise details. The little children of Domremy used to go picnicking in the neighbouring woods and there danced and sang and made garlands of flowers. St Joan sang willingly but was not very fond of dancing and often, we are told, leaving the others to their games, she went aside “to talk to God,” as she explained. If she happened to be in the fields when the church bells rang, then she would stop work and kneel and pray. Her companions passed remarks about her frequent visits to the church, and this, said Hauviette, one of her girl friends, made her bashful. Some thirty years later these boys and girls who had played with her came forward and recorded their early impressions of Joan as they had known her, child and young maid at Domremy. Her youthful piety was no affectation: she was perfectly natural and acted as she believed. The same witnesses describe her as being quiet and reserved, almost to the point of shyness. They all insist that she was simple; by this they meant that she did not give herself airs, she was unaffected in speech and manners, sincere and transparent. The French simple conveys all these meanings. Her prodigious popularity did not change her in this respect. The Duke of Alencon, her hostess at Bourges and others repeat the same words when they speak of her: “Except in affairs of war, she was a very simple young girl.” They agree she was cheerful, but of a silent disposition (moult simple et peu parlant) and, commenting on this, add that when she spoke it was always with great sense.

Her kindness, her charity towards the poor were also remarkable. One Simon Musnier declared: “She liked to take care of the sick. I know this for certain. When I was a child and I was ill it was she who nursed me.” Another witness tells us that she had known Joan to give her own bed to some poor homeless woman and to spend the night herself by the hearth in the next room. This was what Christian charity meant to her.

THE VOICES

She was about thirteen when, for the first time, she heard the Voice which summoned her to the rescue of France. She tells her judges that on this occasion she was overcome with fear. The Voice came to her towards noon. It was summer time; she was in her father’s garden. She heard the Voice on her right, and afterwards she seldom heard it without a light which came from the same side and was usually very brilliant. After she had heard the Voice three times, she understood it came from God and knew it was Michael the Archangel, the protector of France, who came to her and with him the hosts of heaven. The Voice admonished her “to govern herself well and to go to church often,” and from the beginning she was told that she must “go to France.”{ N.B.- Vaucouleurs (with Domremy) was an outpost of France deep in enemy territory.}

One year, and yet another, passed, the visions went on: the commands became more pressing. St Margaret and St Catherine now appeared to her frequently, their heads richly crowned, their voices gentle, soft and low. Once or twice a week they urged her to leave her home to go and seek the king, and tell him of her mission: that God Himself was sending her to give help to the kingdom and lead the Dauphin to Rheims for his coronation. Joan, afraid, trembling, dared tell no one for a time. It was all so strange; it sounded so impossible! How could this be, she thought, seeing that “she was a poor maid, knowing nothing of riding or fighting”?

We cannot doubt that to St Joan these visions were intensely real: she saw, heard, touched, embraced them. “I saw them,” she says to her judges, “with the eyes of my body as plainly as I see you, and when they left me I cried, for I wanted them to take me with them.” {Private examination held in the prison on March 17th, in the afternoon.}

Are we to take this literally? Let us at once say that the visions and revelations of which we read in the lives of saints can never command the assent of Catholic faith, and cannot be part of the Christian revelation. Let us say also that if we believe in a spiritual world co-existing with the visible one, we cannot affirm that spirits have no means of communicating with us, either by direct action of mind on mind, or by causing the brain to originate such pictures, sounds or sensations as are usually produced by an external cause. We are not for a moment suggesting that St Margaret or St Michael or St Catherine assumed in fact a human body in order to manifest themselves to St Joan; nor do we care very much for the theory that these visions were a pure figment of her imagination. After all, these visions did change for many years the course of history for three nations and, in whatever manner they came, we may be allowed to think they were designed by God as the means for Him to influence and direct human affairs.

She had reached her sixteenth year when she knew the time had come for a decision and that she must obey her heavenly counsellors, for they were God’s messengers and their commands His commands. “The great pity of the kingdom of France” was always present to her mind. All her life she had heard tales of battles, burnings and lootings. Once she had to take flight with all the inhabitants of Domremy and on their return they had found the little village burnt down by the Burgundians. When in October 1428, the news came that Salisbury with an English army was under the walls of Orleans, she could not wait any longer: “time was pressing upon her,” she said, “as on a woman when her day is near.”

At last, towards the middle of December, {It is generally accepted that Joan left Domremy and went to Vaucouleurs twice, in May and in December. This raises endless difficulties. We are convinced that the notary who translated into Latin the deposition of Poulengy made a mistake and that the Maid left her home once only and never returned. It all rests on one word: ascension instead of naissance;} she left her home never to return and went to her uncle Laxart, ostensibly to attend his wife in her trouble, but really to be near Vaucouleurs, interview the governor, Robert de Baudricourt, and obtain from him leave to go to Chinon. At first she was rudely rebuffed by the captain, but nothing could discourage her: she knew she was the bearer of God’s commands. After six weeks with her uncle at Little Bury she went to stay with some friends in the town of Vaucouleurs and, at last, impressed by her conviction, her persistence, and her personality, as everyone was who came near her, Baudricourt gave her permission to start and granted her an escort of two willing young noblemen and their four servants. Before her final departure, she went to see the Duke of Lorraine at Nancy, perhaps to obtain a safe conduct out of his lands and through enemy territory. On her way to Nancy she paid a visit to the celebrated shrine of St Nicolas du Port, the patron saint of travellers.

THE MISSION FULFILLED

We may perhaps, before proceeding any further, review briefly the desperate situation of France at that moment. For nearly ninety years an interminable war between France and England had been dragging on, and since Agincourt (1415) the French had only met with defeat and had lost heart. Famine, inflation, pestilence, civil war had added to the misery of their unfortunate country. The King- or rather the Dauphin, since the coronation had not yet taken place—had no money, no soldiers, no allies. His own mother had declared him illegitimate and his kingdom had shrunk to a few provinces south of the Loire.

The English held Normandy, Picardy, Paris in the north, as well as Guyenne and Aquitaine in the south. Burgundy, their ally, stretched from Flanders to Savoy, from the Rhine to the Loire. When Orleans was threatened, the situation of the French king became dangerous in the extreme, for its capture would have opened the roads to the south. Fortunately for him, both England and Burgundy, bent as they were on the dismemberment of France, disagreed about the disposal of the booty: both wanted Paris, both wanted Orleans. Bear this in mind; it is the key to the obstinate and futile French diplomacy of appeasement from 1423 onwards, and the key also to the otherwise inexplicable discarding of Joan, by the Court after the Coronation at Rheims. Joan wanted to continue fighting. “Peace,” she said, “cannot be had but at the point of the lance.” The diplomats wanted to negotiate: they thought it less expensive and less dangerous.

Joan left Vaucouleurs towards the end of February 1429 with her small escort. She was dressed as a man, for safety and to attract less attention on the road. This long ride of eleven days through hostile country was a test of endurance: they must often sleep in the open, avoid big towns, be on the lookout for enemies.

When they reached Chinon she had to wait two, perhaps three, days before she was granted an audience. We can take it for granted that there had been some correspondence between Baudricourt and the Royal Council during January and February, for she could not arrive unexplained and unannounced. The officials, however, kept her under close observation for reasons of simple prudence and indeed continued to do so for many weeks after. At last she had word that she would be received by the king. When she entered the great hall that evening the three hundred courtiers assembled there scrutinized her by the light of fifty torches: what they saw was a small but sturdy young girl, about 5 ft. 2 in. in height, of modest appearance, yet not without some dignity of bearing. She had come in her travelling dress: man’s hose and doublet and over these a short robe of grey woollen material. Her dark hair was close-cropped but for an unbecoming mop on the top of the head. She went straight to the king, who was concealing himself among the courtiers. “I saw her,” said a witness, “when she presented herself before the king’s Majesty with great humility and simplicity as a poor little shepherdess. I heard her say these words: ‘Most noble Dauphin, I am come and am sent to you from God to give help to the kingdom and to you.’”

The king took her apart and had a long conversation with her. It is said that “she confided to him a secret which was known to him alone and to God, which gave him a great confidence in her.” What the secret was, no one knows and St Joan repeatedly refused to reveal it to her judges. Charles was impressed but would take no final decision yet.

He could not afford to make a mistake: if she were an adventuress, if she failed, he would cover himself with ridicule. Even if her story was to be accepted, there were other considerations; what place would she be given in the army which was being raised and equipped at this very moment? What part would she play in the decisions to be taken? This had to be thought out very carefully. For three weeks, Joan was kept in the castle under close and unobtrusive scrutiny. Some great ladies of the court were commissioned to visit her and make sure that her boast of being virgo intacta was justified. After this, she was sent to Poitiers for another three weeks, there to be examined by a commission of theologians. She passed all these tests well and the conclusion of the ecclesiastical court, enthusiastic yet cautious, without pronouncing on the origin of her visions, advised the king that “she must not be prevented from going to Orleans with the men-at-arms,” that “to do otherwise would be resisting the Holy Spirit and making oneself unworthy of the help of God.” This report covered the king and the Royal Council against any accusations of trickery and credulity if Joan failed to fulfil her promises.

Copies of this report were made and sent to every town in the kingdom. In this manner they prepared the mind of the public and built up the fame of St Joan before she had started. There is not much we could teach these fifteenthcentury statesmen in the matter of publicity and propaganda, for they did their job well.

Things began to move rapidly. In the middle of April, Joan was at Tours, where her standard was made according to her indications, and she was fitted with a steel armour like a knight’s, a plain suit, however, and for this reason called white. The king ordered that she should have her household: a steward, a chaplain, two pages and some two hundred lances.

By then, the army was ready and started marching towards Orleans but, unknown to Joan, the main body moved along the right bank of the Loire while she remained on the left. This makes it clear she was not in command, as some writers seem to imply. It is equally clear that at Orleans the captains did not at first inform her of their intentions, still less did they ask her for advice when they were planning an attack. How is it that within a few days these seasoned soldiers revised their opinion, consulted her and meekly bowed to her counsel? What was her position in the army? What was her share in the victories? How is it that within a month, not France alone but all Europe was ringing with the fame of her exploits?

The politicians of the Royal Council, Archbishop Regnault, La Tremoille and others who had helped to build up the popularity of the Maid, intended her to remain an obedient tool in their hands, a kind of mascot and nothing more. They would give her fine horses, dresses of silk and tabards of gold cloth; such outward signs of importance were eminently suitable for the role she was to fill; but real authority, they would give none. Their calculations went wrong. This girl of seventeen possessed a personality one could hate and resist but which nobody could ignore. Before many days were over she had inspired soldiers and captains with a new spirit of offensive and a conviction of victory: she had become their leader.

Very rightly, she was henceforth looked upon as the saviour of Orleans and of her country.

How can this be explained? First of all by her unshakeable conviction that she was sent by God. Her faith was contagious: but for a few sceptical politicians round the throne, every one who came into contact with her, be it Baudricourt or the king or the Poitiers theologians or the common soldiers, shared her belief.

She began by turning the expedition into a religious crusade: the army started from Blois like a procession, with priests marching ahead carrying banners and chanting, Veni Creator Spiritus. [Come, O Creator Spirit Blest.] She put down swearing, made the men go to confession, and with her own hands turned away roughly the poor creatures who followed the army for immoral purposes. She was not at all gentle on these occasions, and once, using the flat of her sword, broke it on the back of one of them. She acted as one in authority and the stories of her prophecies soon went round the camp: her sword was one miraculously found at Fierbois, buried behind the altar; she had announced she would be wounded at Orleans; her prayers had caused a change in the wind that had prevented her from crossing the river; above all she had, in five days, raised a siege that had been going on for nearly seven months. That was the sign she had promised as a token that her mission was from God. On these and many occasions she showed she possessed a foreknowledge of future events.

And there was also her uncanny knowledge of all the crafts of war. One of the commanders, the Duke of Alencon, said of her: “She was most skilful bearing the lance, assembling an army, ordering military operations, directing artillery. She showed as much wisdom and foresight as a captain who had fought for twenty or thirty years.” Marshal Foch, in our 20th century days, remarked that “her impulse had real strategy behind it. It did not engage but with good reason, it did not slacken but when the end was achieved.” Could these seasoned old soldiers fail to be deeply impressed when they came face to face with a young girl who seemed to know more of their own craft than they did? How could the men fail to trust and follow her! She said to them “Go forward boldly,” but she also went first and led where there was danger. Let us elaborate this as we give a brief account of the fighting at Orleans and of the campaign that followed.

She had entered the town on April 29th, but nothing much could be done until the relieving army had arrived. The first real fighting took place on May 4th for the possession of the fortress of St Loup. The captains in charge of the operations had not seen fit to inform her of their intentions. She was actually resting at the time when she woke up suddenly and arose, saying: “In the name of God, my Counsel has told me that I should attack the English.” In haste, she put on her armour and mounted her horse. The page passed her the standard through the window and, says a witness, “her lance at rest, she began to ride so rapidly that the stones struck fire.” She made straight for St Loup and as she was reaching the bastille, the French soldiers saw her approaching; the battle almost stopped for a moment while the men began to shout aloud and to cheer “and the fort of St Loup was taken.”

Next day was Ascension Day and there was no fighting. On May 6th they were attacking the fortress of the Augustines. When Joan arrived in the company of La Hire they found the French retreating and the enemy in pursuit. These two had just crossed the river in a barge with their horses. Jumping into the saddle and lowering their lances, alone they drove full speed at the English and saved the day, for the French took heart, returned to the attack and captured the fortress. Joan went home slightly wounded in the foot, but at dawn next day (May 7th) she was again with the men, fighting for the possession of the fort of Les Tourelles which commanded the bridge of Orleans.

Early in the afternoon, Joan was seriously wounded, but after a while returned to the troops to keep up their courage. The evening came and Dunois, the commander-in-chief, fearing there was no hope of success, had already given orders to withdraw. The Maid went to him and asked him to wait a little while: then, alone in a neighbouring vineyard, she remained in prayer for a quarter of an hour. Then she came back, took her standard, and placed herself on the edge of the trench. “The English seeing the wounded Witch again where she had stood from early morning,” as Andrew Lang puts it, were seized with fear and offered but little resistance when the final assault was carried out. For the English this was final disaster, and the next morning Joan had the joy of seeing them marching away towards Paris, never to return to Orleans. To finish the campaign, there remained to be taken the towns which commanded bridges across the Loire—Jargeau, Meung, Beaugency. These were captured on June 12th, 14th and 16th and the brilliant victory of Patay cleared the country between Orleans and Paris.

After these victories the Royal Council thought the time was ripe for fresh negotiations with Burgundy, while the military party was in favour of prosecuting the war in Normandy. Alone the Maid of Orleans insisted that her Voices ordered her to lead the king to Rheims for his coronation. She spoke to Charles with all the authority she could command and won her point. This was the last time he listened to her. >From now on, the politicians became her enemies openly and the king ceased to pay attention to her warnings.

On their way to Rheims, as she had foreseen, the towns in Burgundian or English obedience surrendered one by one. Rheims itself opened its gates, and on July 17th the coronation took place.

Joan urged a rapid march to Paris. They could have reached it in seven days and probably entered it without much difficulty. English reinforcements were on the way but had not yet arrived and the town was poorly garrisoned. The king deliberately wasted time, both in Rheims and on the road, and it took six weeks of senseless wanderings for Joan and Alencon to arrive under the walls of the capital, and for the king two weeks longer. It was too late. No support was given and the attack failed miserably. Joan, wounded, had to be carried away by her soldiers. A few hours saw the beginning and the end of the “siege” of Paris. For the first time, the name of Joan of Arc was associated with failure, as her enemies at the Court had intended it should be, and from the moment she was no longer invincible, she ceased to count.

From then on, she followed in the wake of the Court, unwanted, unoccupied, although she pleaded that her time was short, that she would last one year and no more. In November they sent her out on two small, ill-equipped expeditions, one of which failed miserably.

She was needed again—soon. In the spring, Burgundy and England, having been given all the time they needed to reorganize their forces, began the battle for Compiegne. This town, the key to Paris from the north, barred the way to the Burgundian armies from Flanders. Joan knew its supreme importance and, on March 3rd, 1430, she left the royal court to join the French forces at Lagny. For two months, the campaign, one of movement, went on. Late in April she received warning from her Voices that she would be taken a prisoner before the feast of St John the Baptist. From that day on she left all decisions to the captains, accepting beforehand what-ever would befall her. She was captured under the walls of Compiegne on May 23rd. She was then just over eighteen years of age.

CAPTIVITY AND DEATH

While she was in the hands of Jean de Luxembourg her captivity was not intolerable and she was treated with some consideration. She tried to escape from one of the prisons where she was held and leapt from a tower some 60 ft. high. That she was not killed but only stunned by her fall seemed so extraordinary that the judges accused her of having attempted to commit suicide. In November she was sold by Jean de Luxembourg to the English, reluctantly it appears, and transferred to Rouen, which she reached late in December.

She was imprisoned in the castle and put in an iron cage until the trial began, that is to the end of January. Afterwards she was chained by the waist, wrists and ankles to a heavy beam. To add to “her martyrdom”- as her Voices called it- she was watched day and night by three common soldiers who shared her room and tormented her with insulting words and rejoiced over her misery.

Instead of burning her or drowning her straightway, the Duke of Bedford, governor (as Regent of the boy-King of England) of the English possessions in France, chose the more subtle method of having her judged and convicted by the ecclesiastical court which was to be held at Rouen under his eyes, not in the law courts, but in the castle. In this way, not Joan alone, but those who had employed her, and approved of her, the French king and the French clergy, would be branded, like her, with infamy, “heresy and schism.”

Bedford had his tools ready. Cauchon, Bishop of Beauvais, was to be the presiding judge. He was what, during the last world war, we should have called a collaborator. He was a Frenchman in the pay of England; so was his nephew; so were some of the canons of the chapter of Rouen who sat on the tribunal. Cauchon drew a yearly salary of 1,000 livres tournois as a member of the (English) Royal Council, not to speak of wages for other services as occasion offered. The (English) Regent kept him pliable and dutiful by dangling before his eyes the possibility of a higher reward still. The See of Rouen was vacant: surely a fitting reward for a faithful servant of England.

Cauchon was cunning and unscrupulous. He was also an able man; he and Bedford understood each other. He selected the judges, he planned the proceedings. It must be “un beau proces,” for all Europe was listening. This is the course they decided to follow. Joan of Arc claimed that her visions were from God; to the judges this was unthinkable; if they were, it meant that God was against England, it meant also that theirs was a tribunal of traitors. Therefore, either Joan lied or, if she had had the visions, they came from the devil. In order to prove this, the obvious line was to discredit her, to show her up as a vain, superstitious, unreligious, dissolute woman; let them prove also that she was guilty of theft, of perjury, of murder, of attempted suicide, and it would become clear that she could not be God’s instrument but the devil’s. All these accusations were formulated so as to create a bias in the mind of the judges: they were never substantiated, but the impression was made and went deep. A political enemy is always wrong and his defence worthless; at least Cauchon could claim that they had heard what Joan had to say.

The next step was logical and deadly. Having made up their minds that the visions and revelations of Joan were from evil spirits, the judges insisted that Joan should agree with them and declare she had been deceived by her Voices. They said the Tribunal was the Church and that every Christian must accept the decisions of the Church: he is otherwise a heretic. To Joan, the visions were so real that she could not doubt them; she was too sincere to deny them; she was so unused to legal subtleties that she could not say “It seems to me” when she meant “I am certain.” And therefore, her own unyielding answers allowed the Tribunal to send her to the stake as a schismatic and a heretic.

She did not yield easily; the judges themselves complained of her skill in defending herself during this long trial which lasted from February to May, with six public sessions and nine private ones in her prison. She knew she was not facing a tribunal of impartial judges, but one of enemies. Once she said to Cauchon: “You say you are the Church. What is the Church? If you say it is yourself, I will not submit to your judgement, because you are my deadly enemy.” Repeatedly she expressed her submission to the Holy See, asked to be taken to the Holy Father the Pope and to be judged by him. Her appeals were rejected under the pretext that Rome was too far away. This alone would have made the judgement illegal. There were many other irregularities as well. The judges were her political enemies. They were under English influence and at times even under coercion; the trial was taking place in the castle instead of the Law Courts which were available. The French king was not represented. The accusation produced no names, no documents, no evidence, no proofs, no witnesses. The prisoner was given no counsel; no one advised her as to the meaning and import of the subtle and crafty questions she was asked, nor did she always understand them.

The trial became a mere battle of wits between a young girl deprived of all the means of defence to which she was entitled and a tribunal whose only business was to find her guilty. Even the summing-up of the accusation condensed into twelve articles was often in contradiction with the answers of Joan as recorded in the minutes and it is on this unfair presentation of the case that the University of Paris, on being consulted, condemned Joan without having seen her.

Her condemnation was in any case a foregone conclusion. In the churchyard of St Ouen Joan had signed a brief recantation which possibly was no more than a promise “not to bear arms and not to wear male attire.” This did not save her for long. Three days later the woman’s dress was taken from her and she had no option but to put on again the forbidden hose and doublet: this, in the eyes of the judges, who came to the prison to verify her guilt, was sufficient to revive the death sentence. While they were thus occupied, Warwick was waiting in the courtyard below. He and Cardinal Beaufort had the prisoner in their charge and he had been heard to declare that he did not intend her to die a natural death. He was there to make sure that Cauchon would not forget what was expected from him. It was not the first time he had intimidated members of the Tribunal, Brother Isambart for instance. With Cauchon, no threats were needed: he was their man. Coming out of the tower and catching sight of the earl he called out across the courtyard, in English: “Fare well, fare well, she’s caught, we have her this time,” and he was laughing. Even if we did not know of his partial conduct of the trial, this despicable joy over his victim’s fate would justify the contempt in which posterity has held his name.

He was busy during the next two days: he must draw up in writing a judgement that would satisfy his masters and give orders for the necessary preparations in the old market-place: two platforms for the ecclesiastical and civil authorities, another for the preacher and Joan, and a scaffold so designed that the victim could be seen in her agony by everyone in the marketplace.

St Joan, unaware of these preparations, was waiting in her jail, still hoping, perhaps, to be transferred to a church prison. On Wednesday, May 30th, early in the morning, three Dominicans came to her: they were bringers of bad news and one of them, Martin Ladvenu, had been chosen as the Tribunal’s messenger. He was one of the youngest members of the Tribunal, being then just over thirty years of age. Awed by the important people who had sat to consider the case, he was still perplexed and uncertain as to the guilt of Joan, and gave a timid and qualified assent to the condemnation. But although he was probably not capable of rising above the partisan spirit, and of being fair to those who did not belong to the same political side as himself, he was not lacking in compassion and kindliness and he did all he could to comfort Joan during the last hours of her life. When he broke the terrible news to the poor girl, that this morning she must die and die by fire, she lost her composure: “Alas,” she said, “am I to be so horribly and cruelly treated that my body which has never been corrupted should to-day be consumed and burned to ashes? “ The bishop, unfeeling and callous, had the audacity to come in at this juncture, to try and justify his sentence. “Bishop,” she said, “I die through you, for this I summon you before God.” She knew well enough he was not a judge but an enemy.

By a contradiction which shows how little the Tribunal were convinced of the justice of their own sentence, they granted her- a declared schismatic and heretic—the privilege of Holy Communion, which all these long months had been denied her. She made her last confession to Ladvenu: the Blessed Sacrament was taken openly to her cell and she received her Saviour, with what feelings we may guess: He was the one friend who was not deserting her when she was abandoned by all others, who did not turn against her when, as it seemed, the Church had condemned her, the one friend who would stand by her to the last and welcome her at the end of the terrible day. “God willing,” she said later to Pierre Maurice at the foot of the scaffold, “this evening I shall be with God in Paradise.”

The cart that was to take her to the market-place was waiting for her in the courtyard. Dressed in a woman’s cotte, close-fitting bodice and long skirt, on her head a linen coif, its front fold let down to hide her face from prying eyes, she was led to the tumbrel, pushed into it and the procession started. An escort of some eighty soldiers surrounded her, Martin Ladvenu walked by her side, and Joan was weeping. All Rouen had come to see her die; they lined the streets, appeared at every window, packed the market-place, that is, what space the English soldiers had left for them.

Standing on a platform facing that of Cauchon, Beaufort and the Tribunal, she had to listen to a long exhortation by Nicolas Midi, one of her judges. Since Midi is that same man who was selected six months later to offer an address of welcome to the English King on the occasion of his visit to Paris, you are at liberty to think it contained more insulting remarks than expressions of compassion. St Joan, they say, listened patiently and quietly throughout.

The sermon ended, Bishop Cauchon had the impudence once more to approach Joan to exhort her to repentance. Once more, she faced him with the same reproach: “Alas, I die through you, Bishop.” Returning to his seat, the bishop began to read out the sentence. Here are some samples of the expressions this traitor used in delivering his judgement on a saint:

“Having regard to the malice of her diabolical obstinacy” . . . She is guilty of “unheard-of crimes, damnable malice, perjury and blasphemy.” She is described as “a homicidal viper, a member of Satan . . . they must watch that the horrible contagion of her pernicious leprosy does not contaminate the Church.” She is “a rotten member that must be cast out from the unity of the Church.” Cauchon meant to earn the gratitude of his masters as well as his fee.

After the reading of the sentence of excommunication came a long pause, for a condemned person was not denied time to address the people if wishing to do so. For half an hour or more Joan spoke, protesting her faith and trust in God, asking for the prayers of the people as well as for the intercession of the saints, and her words, “pitiful, devout and Catholic,” were so moving that those who could hear her, even the Cardinal of England (Beaufort) and many Englishmen, were seen to weep.

The soldiers grew impatient. Two sergeants came and forced her down from the platform where she stood and led her to the Bailiff who represented the English authorities. So far she had been excommunicated but not sentenced to death: yet no judgement was read in the name of the king, no sentence was pronounced, and the Bailiff, merely waving his hand, to signify these legal formalities were not worth troubling about, said: “Menez. Menez”- that is: “Take her away. Take her away”- and she was straightway taken to the stake and handed to the executioner. She asked for a cross and a soldier hastily made one with two pieces of wood tied together- she kissed it and put it in her bosom. Then her arms were pinioned behind her back and she was chained to the stake. At her request, Isambart, who, as well as Ladvenu, was attending her, sent for the cross of a near-by church and held it before her right to the end of her long agony. “To the end of her life,” affirms Martin Ladvenu, “she maintained and asserted that her Voices came from God and that what she had done had been done by God’s command. She did not believe that her Voices had deceived her, and in giving up the ghost, bending her head she uttered the name of Jesus in a voice that could be heard all over the market-place by all present, as a sign that she was fervent in the faith of God.” Her heart was unconsumed. By order of Cardinal Beaufort, the ashes and all that remained of St Joan were put into a sack and thrown into the Seine “that the world might have no relic of her of whom the world was not worthy.” [Andrew Lang: The Maid of France.}

On the scaffold at St Ouen St Joan had appealed to the Holy See. In 1456, twenty-five years after her death, another appeal was made, this time in the name of her mother and of her brothers who were still alive. The verdict of 1431 was reversed by Pope Calixtus III on the grounds of the obvious hostility and unfairness of the judges, of additions, suppressions and omissions in the summing-up, of the incompetence of the court, culminating in an illegal sentence and an irregular execution.

A mere reversal of the iniquitous sentence could not satisfy posterity, nor did it do full justice to the memory of St Joan, for she was more than the innocent victim of political and national quarrels, more than a great patriot: she was a saint, as many of her contemporaries had indeed believed and proclaimed her to be. On May 13th, 1920, in the great basilica of St Peter in Rome, Pope Benedict XV solemnly declared her to be one of God’s great servants and declared that she was to be honoured as Saint Joan, Virgin.

The Holiness of Saint Patrick

REV. P. F. CRUDDEN

INDEX

WE Australian Catholics are quite heavily committed to Saint Patrick with so many cathedrals, churches, colleges and schools under his patronage and so many persons bearing his name. Yet I think that I am right in saying that he is not particularly well known or well loved in Australia, even amongst the best informed Catholics.

If I speak of Saint Patrick, it is not of the historical figure who emerges somewhat hazily from a complex era, nor of the heroic figure about whom the folklore of a grateful people has woven so many beautiful legends, but rather of the Saint as a vital force in the living church in Australia. He is an exacting person who, if properly understood, gives the lie to much that is false in modern piety and points the way to such a relationship with the Father as Christ envisaged for his followers. Any person interested in achieving holiness of life can profit from a study of the holiness of Saint Patrick.

SAINT PATRICK TODAY

The question arises how a man who died in the year 461 or thereabouts could possibly be a vital force in the church of today. The first thought that suggests itself is that he can certainly offer immediate support to the church and its members from his place in heaven. The merits that he acquired during his life on earth enable him to intercede with an intercession more powerful than that of our friends on earth. “The saints cooperate with us in obtaining our salvation,” says Saint Thomas Aquinas, “and by their help obtain from God what we ask of him. It is more glory for them to be able to help others, because in this they are co-operators with God.”

This does not suggest that any saint, or even Our Lady, can be the final support on whom we rest our hope. The final support on whom we rest our hope must always be Christ, for in no other name is salvation found. It is quite wrong to think that we can, or would even want to, bypass Christ in approaching the Father. We are united to God in Christ. Christ is man as we are men; with him and by him and in him we are truly sons of God. By this truth we live.

The application of this truth to the life of Saint Patrick serves to indicate his present role in the church more clearly. The same Christ who lives in us, making us sons of God, lived in Patrick, making him also a son of God. Patrick lived, and still lives, as a member of the same Christ in whom we live. Hence the passing of fifteen hundred years need not make him remote from us, nor does it alter Christ’s formula for holiness in life. “If any man love me, he will keep my commandments and my Father will love him and we will come to him and make our home with him.” (Jn. 14/23.) The presence of Saint Patrick and the other saints with God at this time is an encouragement to us to live by the same formula. “Since we are watched by such a cloud of witnesses,” says Saint Paul, “let us run with all endurance the race for which we are entered.” (Heb. 12/1.)

Although it is never easy to state precisely the role of a saint in the church at a given time, it seems reasonable to suggest that all saints have a special work beyond the general ones already mentioned. Origen, suggests, for instance, that the spirit and power of Saint John the Baptist must come first into the soul of a man who learns to believe in Christ to prepare him for the coming of Christ. We remember Saint Patrick chiefly as a great missionary, a man who won a whole nation for God by his word and example. As with Saint John the Baptist, neither the power of Patrick’s word, nor the witness of his life is lost to the church.

THE POWER OF HIS WORD

The power of Saint Patrick’s word remains in the two writings of his that we still possess, his Confession and his Letter against Coroticus. Of these two documents the Confession is by far the more important because of the outline of his life that it provides and because of the insights it gives into the motives behind his missionary effort.

The witness of his life is a compelling one. In his day he exerted tremendous influence over the lives of other men. He still has the power to deepen our understanding of the Christian vocation in the world of men and to inspire us to shake off that half-the-day self-indulgence of ours which constantly impedes the work of Christ in the world.

The sense of our own value as persons made in the image of God is easily lost in the noise and movement of modern life. Even if we cling to a realization of the value of our own immortal souls and are determined in our efforts to save them, we are still likely to overlook the value of those persons, many in number, over whom we are going to exercise power for better or for worse. Whether we like it or not, we are in actual fact the representatives of Christ in those circles in which we move. Simply by what we are, we are either effective or ineffective witnesses of Christ. Many souls are dependent upon the influence of our lives for their introduction to Christ. There was a time when Patrick, as a Christian, did not realize this; but once he saw his vocation as a Christian and understood it, he pursued it with Pauline vigour and energy. Just to see him in action is to have the value of our own souls impressed upon us and the urgency of our Christian vocation stressed.

EARLY LIFE

Although little of the detail of Patrick’s life is known for certain its outline is reasonably clear. He was almost certainly born in Roman Britain about the year 385. Shortly after the year 400 he was captured at his home by a raiding party and carried off as a slave to Ireland. In his Confession he remarks that he was then sixteen years old but still did not know God. This does not mean that he was not a Christian, for he was. It means rather that he lived without much thought. of God and in general neglected God. He attributes his capture and the capture of many other Christians at this time to their neglect of God and their refusal to serve Him faithfully.

It must surely have been a jolt for a sixteen-year-old boy to be torn away from a happy and comfortable home and to face the prospect of a life spent in slavery. He was a sensitive person with a deep affection for his parents and real feeling for his own country so that the thought of living among barbarians in a foreign country was a hateful one. We would have expected his captivity to make him embittered and disillusioned. It had the opposite effect. He always recalled his capture with gratitude because this crisis “opened the sense of my unbelief that I might at last remember my sins and be converted to the Lord my God.” It was the beginning of a relationship with God that was to continue to develop during the remainder of his long life. It was a relationship in which Patrick saw God as his Father, loving him, caring for him and protecting him, even during those years when he was not conscious of God’s presence. “He watched over me before I knew him,” wrote Saint Patrick, “and guarded me and comforted me as a father would his son.”

SLAVERY IN IRELAND

Patrick worked as a slave in Ireland for six years. He tells us that his work was to tend sheep. We know that he lacked food and clothing during that time but he does not complain of cruel treatment. The important thing about these years is that knowledge, love and fear of God all grew in him and his faith was strengthened. They were years of intense and fervent prayer. During the day and at night, in the woods and on the mountain, he sought and found opportunities for prayer. “I used to get up for prayer before daylight, through snow, through frost, through rain, and I felt no harm, and there was no sloth in me-as I now see, because the spirit within me was then fervent.”

It seems unlikely that Patrick would have received any kind of instruction at this time or even have had any manuscripts of Christian teaching to read. We may therefore conclude that he was “taught of God.” His ability to approach simply and directly to God was probably learned in these Irish woods and mountains. To the end of his life, however, he regretted his lack of formal education, speaking often of his slow tongue and only hesitantly committing his thoughts to paper for fear of revealing his lack of education. At the same time he was aware that he had received from God gifts often withheld from those who study most assiduously. “Whence I, once rustic, exiled, unlearned, who does not know how to provide for the future, this I know most certainly that before I was humiliated I was like a stone lying in deep mire; and he that is mighty came and in his mercy lifted me up, and raised me aloft, and placed me on the top of the wall.”

LIKE ST. PAUL

It is interesting to note that Patrick was introduced to his Christian vocation in much the same way as Saint Paul, by the direct action of God rather than by the ordinary means of instruction through the church. In telling his story Paul writes, “And then he who had set me apart from the day of my birth, and called me by his grace, saw fit to make his Son known in me, so that I could preach his gospel among the Gentiles. My first thought was not to hold any consultations with any human creature; and I did not go up to Jerusalem to see those who had been apostles longer than myself; no, I went off into Arabia, and when I came back, it was to Damascus. Then, when three years had passed, I did go up to Jerusalem to visit Peter and I stayed a fortnight there in his company.” (Gal. 1/15–18.) Patrick tells his story in more vigorous language than Paul in this instance but we note that the two stories run parallel in several respects. “And therefore I ought to cry out loud,” writes Saint Patrick, “and so also render something to the Lord for his great benefits here and in eternity-benefits which the mind of man is unable to appraise. Wherefore, then, be astonished, ye great and little that fear God, and you men of letters on your estates, listen and pore over this. Who was it that roused up me, the fool that I am, from those who in the eyes of men are wise, and expert in law, and powerful in word and in everything? And he inspired me-me, the outcast of this world-before others, to be the man (if only I could!) who, with fear and reverence and without blame, should faithfully serve the people to whom the love of Christ conveyed and gave me for the duration of my life, if I should be worthy.”

ESCAPE FROM SLAVERY

After six years in Ireland came the second crisis in Patrick’s life. He heard a voice in his sleep which said, “See, your ship is ready.” At this point it should be noted that Patrick does not at any time speak in his Confession of working a miracle, although there is no reason why some of the miracles attributed to him may not be true, but he does say that God used to forewarn him of many things by a divine message. This particular message about the ship followed on another message he had received earlier, “It is well that you fast, soon you will go to your own country.”

He took flight from the man to whom he was bonded and made a journey of “perhaps two hundred miles” to a port, probably on the south-east coast where he knew nobody. He tells us that he made this journey in the strength of God who directed his way and that he feared nothing until he came to the ship.

If he feared nothing on the way, he was timid and nervous enough in his approach to the ship’s captain. Despite an offer to pay he met a curt refusal.

After he had turned disappointedly away to make his way back to the hut where he had been sheltering he was recalled a by a crew member and taken aboard the ship which set sail at once for Gaul.

STILL AMONGST BARBARIANS

In three days they reached Gaul, only to find it impossible to dispose of their cargo because the country had been devastated by barbarian invasions. This may well have been the year 407, the year of a great Vandal raid on Gaul. These were grim days for the church. Only three years later the Goths, led by Alaric, entered the city of Rome and spent three days of destruction there. Alaric and his Goths were to be followed shortly by Attila and the Huns, and they in turn by Genseric and his Vandals. The work of Saint Patrick can be fully understood only against the background of his times. Those times are well described by Saint Jerome who lived through part of them at least. “The mind shudders,” he wrote, “when dwelling on the ruin of our day. For twenty years and more, Roman blood has been flowing ceaselessly over the broad countries between Constantinople and the Julian Alps, where the Goths, the Huns and Vandals spread ruin and death. How many Roman nobles have been their prey! How many matrons and maidens have fallen victim to their lust! Bishops live in prison, priests and clerics fall by the sword, churches are plundered, Christ’s altars are turned into feeding- troughs, the remains of martyrs are thrown out of their coffins. Everywhere there is sorrow, everywhere lamentation, everywhere the image of death. . . . ‘What is safe if Rome is gone? What is safe if the city which had taken captive the whole world is taken captive?”

The reply to Saint Jerome’s question is that the spiritual resources of the church were not seriously impaired by the fall of the Roman Empire. Christianity faced the problem of converting the barbarians. Patrick was a pioneer in that work. At the beginning of his Letter against Coroticus he wrote, “I, Patrick, a sinner, unlearned, resident in Ireland, declare myself to be a bishop. Most assuredly I believe that what I am I have received from God. And so I live among barbarians, a stranger and an exile for the love of God.” We note here Patrick’s awareness of two important things. His life’s work lay among the barbarians. He had been equipped by God for their conversion. At the same time he is aware of the importance of his episcopate. In the early days of the rebuilding of Europe the authority of the Emperor and his representatives was largely replaced by that of the Bishop. One tradition from the Middle Ages has Patrick presiding over a Council of the rulers of Ireland to bring their laws and social customs into line with Christian teaching.

ARRIVAL IN FRANCE

Patrick’s arrival in France at this particular time must surely, therefore, have given perspective to his later work among the barbarians on what was then the fringe of the known world. However, we do not know in detail what happened to Saint Patrick in the few years after he landed in Gaul. He tells us that he was captured and held a prisoner for sixty days before escaping. It was only after many journeys over long distances that he was eventually able to make his way from Gaul to the home of his parents in Britain. One thing we know for certain is that he remained very close to God during these difficult days. As the country had become a “desert” after the ravages of the invaders, the travellers were in constant danger of starvation. He recalls that on one journey of twenty- eight days they travelled through deserted country and that God gave them food and fire and dry weather until they met people. “As I said above,” he wrote, “we travelled twenty-eight days through deserted country and the night we met people we had no food left.” After a few years he found his way back to his people in Britain who received him as their son and sincerely begged him that, having suffered so many hardships, he should not leave them again.

A VOICE FROM IRELAND

It is doubtful whether it would now have been possible for Patrick to settle down at home much and all as he loved his parents and his country. At all events his future was made plain to him by a vision which he experienced while there with his parents. He saw in the night a vision of a man who appeared to hand him a letter on which was written the words, “Wake thee, boy, come and walk amongst us once more.” At the same time he appeared to hear the voice of the Irish from beside the Western Sea making the same request.

We must not imagine that he arose immediately from his bed and set about the conversion of Ireland. Many years were to pass before he again set foot in Ireland. He first of all journeyed to Gaul and remained there for perhaps fifteen years. These years were spent for the most part at the monastery of Lerins and at Auxerre, where he prayed, studied and worked, first as a deacon and later as a priest.

The fruit of these years is seen in his writing and in his later work. His writing is rough and unpolished but it shows a most remarkable knowledge of the Scriptures. He quotes from the Old and New Testaments readily and effectively. His writing echoes the Pauline Epistles and even when he is not quoting directly from the Scriptures his outlook and even his phrasing reflects them.

The other benefit derived from these years in Gaul was his realization of the worth of the monastic way of life. Although he never became a monk himself, he loved the monks at Lerins and wrote as an old man that he longed “to visit the brethren and behold the faces of the Saints of the Lord.” There can be no doubt that the monastic movement in Ireland dates back as far as Saint Patrick because he speaks himself with pride of the “countless sons and daughters of kings who became the monks and virgins of Christ.”

RETURN TO IRELAND

During Patrick’s stay in Gaul Saint Germanus, who was Bishop of Auxerre, was sent by the Pope to examine the state of the church in Britain. Among other things his visit revealed that the British slaves in Ireland had converted many pagans to Christianity but that the Irish church was not yet properly organized. As a result of this a priest named Palladius was named Bishop by the Pope and sent to Ireland.

Palladius lived only a short time and it soon became necessary to find a successor. The Confession indicates almost certainly that Patrick had been nominated as leader of the first expedition and even had ‘inside information’ that he was to be consecrated Bishop. This event did not take place because a misdemeanour of his very early life was quoted against his character. He was bitterly disappointed but was strengthened by a vision in which God made known to him that he was displeased with his rejection. Since he was sure that his vocation to work among the Irish came from God, he pressed his claims and was appointed to replace Palladius. It seems possible that he may have received this appointment directly from the Pope, as did Palladius, but we cannot be certain of this. We do not even know who consecrated him Bishop, but we do know that at the time of his consecration he was already a middle-aged man.

WORK IN IRELAND

In the Confession Patrick claims that it would be tedious to give an account of all or even part of his labours as a Bishop in Ireland. Perhaps he is right. The important thing is that his labours were highly successful. In his favour would have been his knowledge of the customs of the people amongst whom he worked. The traditions that have been handed down about his missionary work invariably point to a deep insight into the mentality of the Irish. ‘What he lacked in intellectual gifts he made up for by shrewdness tempered by a native kindness that shows through all his writing. He worked close to God and knew where true values lay.

He saw himself as a fisher of men and tells how he spread out his nets so that a great multitude and throng might be caught for God. It was a great consolation for him to see so many who had worshipped ‘idols and things impure’ join the ranks of the people of God. Recalling his missionary work he wrote, “For I am very much God’s debtor, who gave me such great grace that many people were reborn in God through me and afterwards confirmed, and that clerics were ordained for them everywhere.” In this way he consolidated his work so successfully that the nation he won for God has never defected. Although le consciously attempted to leave a bequest, he could not have envisaged what a great bequest it would be. “I must spread everywhere the name of God,” he said, “so that after my decease I may leave a bequest to my brethren and sons whom I have baptized in the Lord-so many thousands of people.”

As the episcopal office demands, he became so deeply attached to his people that he could not bear the thought of leaving them. “Even if I wished to leave them and go to Britain, and how I have wished to go to my country and my parents, and also to Gaul in order to visit the brethren and to see the faces of the saints of my Lord, God knows it that I much desired it; but I am bound by the Spirit, who gives evidence against me if I do this, telling me that I shall be guilty.” His attachment was not a personal one. It was founded in the commission he had received from Christ. “I am afraid of losing the labour which I have begun- nay, not I, but Christ the Lord who bade me come here and stay with them for the rest of my life, if the Lord will, and will guard me from every evil that I may not sin before them.”

DEATH

Saint Patrick died of a natural illness when in his mid-seventies. The exact circumstances of his death are not known, but when he died Ireland was no longer a missionary country. It had already been won for God. Very soon missionaries were to leave Ireland for Europe. The English historian Philip Hughes, in acknowledging this, pays Saint Patrick a great compliment, “From Ireland, which was Patrick’s creation, the light was one day to return and enlighten Europe itself.”

A SINFUL MAN

One of the features of Saint Patrick’s spirituality was a constant awareness of his own sinfulness. There is no doubt that a deep sense of sin is one of. God’s great graces. It can be given only to a person who had learned to love God deeply and sincerely. Romano Guardini has formulated a prayer which reads,

“Holy God, teach me to recognize your love, so that I may see how great is my guilt.” In Patrick’s life, and in the life of every saint, this prayer was answered. He introduces himself to us with the words, “I am Patrick a sinner.” He recognizes that he needs constant support from God, “I do not trust myself as long as I am in this body of death, for strong is he who daily strives to turn me away from the faith and purity of true religion.” He squarely faces the fact that “the hostile flesh is ever dragging us unto death, that is, towards the forbidden satisfaction of one’s desires,” but not without recognizing the power of God’s grace to overcome sin. “From the time I came to know him in my youth, the love of God and the fear of him have grown in me, and up to now, thanks to the grace of God, I have kept the faith.” The natural corollary of the recognition of God’s love is confidence. Romano Guardini’s prayer sums this up perfectly. “Holy God, teach me to recognize your love, so that I may see how great is my guilt. But grant that this recognition may also become confidence.”

THE TRINITY IN HIS LIFE

The pictures and statues of Saint Patrick show him with a shamrock in his hand and snakes beneath his feet. Without entering into the question of whether Saint Patrick drove the snakes out of Ireland we may say that the symbolism is good. It points to the fact that he waged a successful fight against the forces of evil in Ireland. The symbolism of the shamrock is equally good. Its value for teaching the doctrine of the Trinity is strictly limited, but the Confession indicates that Saint Patrick lived the mystery of his own life and, with or without the help of a shamrock, taught it successfully.

He sees clearly that the sanctification of men has its well-spring in the Father. “He watched over me before I knew him and guarded me and comforted me as a Father would his son.” Patrick praised God. He thanked Him. He loved Him. He trusted Him. He feared God. He saw the hand of God in everything. He said often that the strength of God directed his way. He accepted with equanimity whatever God asked of Him. He was in all things a devoted son to his Father.

He expresses his belief in the Son in a compact formula, “Him we believe to have always been with the Father, spiritually and ineffably begotten by the Father before the beginning of the world, before all beginning; and by him are made all things visible and invisible. He was made man, and, having defeated death was received into heaven by the Father; and he has given Him all power over all names, in heaven, on earth and under the earth, and every tongue shall confess to him that Jesus Christ is the Lord and God, in whom we believe, whose advent we expect soon to be, judge of the living and the dead, who will render to every man according to his deeds.” He is glad to be poor with Christ. He is confident that Christ will guard him from every evil. He was prepared to sacrifice himself with Christ, “Ready I was that he should give me his chalice to drink, as he gave it also to the others who loved him.” He expected one day to reign with Christ. “Of Him and by Him and in Him we shall reign.”

His attachment to the Holy Spirit was no less real. He says that it is the Holy Spirit who makes those who believe and obey sons of God and joint heirs with Christ. He speaks of God saving him from evil “because of the Spirit that dwelleth in me.” He regrets that he, who was chosen to be God’s helper, “should have been so slow to do as the Spirit suggested.”

We have only very few pages of Saint Patrick’s writing. Altogether they would scarcely be the length of a short story. They nonetheless give a graphic picture of Patrick as a man who lived for God, Father, Son and Holy Spirit.

“TO SERVE FAITHFULLY . . .”

Saint Patrick saw himself as an ambassador of God. “I commend my soul to my faithful God, for whom I am an ambassador in all my wretchedness.” He regarded it a privilege to serve God’s people. He wanted above all else “to serve faithfully” the people to whom Christ had given him. As already stated he regarded himself as a fisher of men and he tried “to fish well and diligently.” He was driven by his love for men “to make known the gift of God and everlasting consolation.” His great desire was to spend himself for the souls committed to his care.

As an ambassador for God, Saint Patrick was a tremendous success. To be a successful ambassador for God is an exacting task, demanding full use of the power of divine love that lies within us. Perhaps Saint Patrick, by his example, inspiration and intercession may help us to exercise those powers more fully.

THE BREASTPLATE OF SAINT PATRICK

In this pamphlet I have made reference to two writings of Saint Patrick. There may possibly be a third. There is an old Irish morning prayer called the Breastplate of Saint Patrick that can be traced back in its present form to the 9th century. The possibility of its composition by Saint Patrick should not be dismissed since it is one in spirit with his own writing. Some lines from the prayer are appended.

I arise today through

God’s strength to pilot me, God’s might to uphold me, God’s wisdom to guide me, God’s eye to look before me, God’s ear to hear me,

God’s word to speak for me, God’s hand to guard me, God’s way to lie before me, God’s shield to protect me,

God’s host to secure me—against the snares of devils, against temptation of vices, against inclinations of nature, against everyone who shall wish me ill, afar and near, alone and in a crowd . . .

Christ with me,

Christ before me,

Christ behind me,

Christ in me,

Christ beneath me,

Christ above me,

Christ on my right,

Christ on my left,

Christ where I lie,

Christ where I sit,

Christ where I arise,

Christ in the heart of every man who thinks of me, Christ in the mouth of every man who speaks of me, Christ in every eye that sees me,

Christ in every ear that hears me,

Salvation is of the Lord, Salvation is of the Lord, Salvation is of Christ,

May thy salvation, O Lord, be ever with us.

Nihil Obstat:

BERNARD O’CONNOR, Diocesan Censor.

Imprimatur:

@ DANIEL MANNIX,

Archiepiscopus Melburnensis. 2nd February, 1963.

********

The Holy Cross In Our Life

BY T. MARTIN

INDEX

“AND I, IF I BE LIFTED UP FROM THE EARTH, WILL DRAW ALL THINGS TO MYSELF.”-JOHN XIII, 32

Life is full to the brim with suffering. No one would be so foolish to deny that the world all around us re-echoes with the groans and sighs of suffering humanity, afflicted with disease, poverty, corroding anxiety, bereavement, loneliness, worry about an uncertain future, vain efforts to keep up appearances, active hostility of enemies, erring relatives, callous employers, idle or even untrustworthy employees, scandal-spreading neighbours, our own unforgettable-and unforgotten!-mistakes, to name only a few of the harrowing worries of everyday life.

In spite of all the devices and gadgets to blot out pain, and promote material comfort, there has never been so much pain as in this present age, and it has never been so gnawing, so hopeless, because it has been separated from God, its only cure. One thing we all forget: when God created man there was to be no part in his life for death and suffering. Adam disobeyed God, and sinned, incited thereto by Eve who listened to the devil. They it was who brought all this deluge of suffering on us-as they knew they would. No good blaming them. How often have you and I betrayed God just for ―a goodly apple rotten at the heart?‖ Your sin and mine make the world worse for others, yet neither of us bothers about that if we obtain the gratification of the sin. So let us be fair to Adam and Eve. They suffered for it.

We can’t imagine what a disappointment it must have been to God when the beings He en dowed with such marvellous minds and bodies, and to whom He gave a glorious world, turned out so badly. Yet because He loved us He thought out a plan by which to save us from our folly. Straight away He envisaged and promised the Immaculate Virgin Mary who would crush the serpent’s head, and of whom His Son would take flesh, living our human life for 33 years and dying after infinite sufferings as a criminal on a Cross, thereby re-opening Heaven to us. By His Passion and Death He bridged the chasm made between God and man by sin.

We sinned, and God the Son paid our debt, and paid it abundantly, thus restoring to us the supernatural gifts of grace and eternal life. Is it unfair of Him then to ask us to contribute a little, not towards paying off the debt-He did that-but towards placing at His disposal a fund, as it were, on which He could draw for the good of others? The willingly-accepted pain, the voluntary sacrifice offered to God for the salvation of souls by ordinary people like you and me can bringto God’s Feet souls that but for us would be lost to Him forever. We enable God by our sufferings to distribute the unlimited graces of His Passion and Death. We ―fill up those things that were wanted of the sufferings of Christ.‖

No one likes to suffer; everyone tries to get rid of it but cannot, for it dogs the steps of every human being from the cradle to the grave. We all seek joy and happiness. Pain kills both, if we let it, but we need not. ―Pain,‖ George Eliot tells us, ―is no evil unless it conquers us.‖

To have everything the world can give us -love, wealth, happiness, health, and to have peace in our possession is to be on the road to ruin, for the crucified ‗Christ is not to be met with in such a life. If God loves us, if we have someone’s prayers, such a world will come crashing down about our ears sooner or later, and the sacrifice and suffering involved will open up to us the right world. The foolish man, when such suffering comes, will ignore the spiritual side and try to get back what he has lost so that he can go on as before, forgetting God mostly. The wicked will raise defiant fists to Heaven refusing to accept the pain, his rebellion effecting no good whatever but only aggravating the pain and the bitterness. If he clenched his hands round his crucifix he would derive benefit!

In itself suffering is fruitless, even an evil thing; it becomes a good only when borne for the love of God. It is, like a surgical operation, horrible in itself but life giving in its effects. The blows of life either crush us into the earth, or raise us up to a high spiritual level. Christ must have seen great good in the ―cross‖ when He told us not merely to bear it, but to ―take it up,‖ as it were, gladly, if we want to follow in His footsteps.

Are not many painful things accepted in life because of their good effect? And we rejoice that the pain can have the beneficial effect desired. But when it comes to enduring pain for the improvement of our character, for the lessening of some spiritual defect like pride or self-sufficiency, greed or sloth, we are up in arms and refuse the cure.

How few there are who do not resent the big place suffering has in their life! How few recognise it as an undoubted evil which they themselves can turn into a blessing by accepting it as coming from the permissive hand of a loving Father! You can’t barricade yourself against pain. It will seep in through an unseen crevice, and rise up all around you almost drowning you. The thing to do is to call out then as St. Peter did: ―Lord! save me. I perish. ― And His outstretched arm will lift you up, restoring to you the peace that surpasseth understanding. Most of us go through the Dark Night of suffering, written of by St. John of the Cross who was so cruelly treated by his brethren; but if we love and serve God through it all, the ―Night‖ will pass and dawn will come to us resplendent.

Dear lovable St. F. de Sales tells us sufferingis the road to sanctity, and though you may protest you don’t want to be a saint if that is the way, there is no other road.

UNIVERSALITY OF SUFFERING

LIFE presses hard on every one of us. Not a day passes without unpleasant things happening. Some days they are piled high in a cairn, and everyone passing seems to want to add, a stone to the pile. Many in God’s army seem to be front line soldiers, never sheltered or protected. Of all the sounds (and how they are increasing!) ascending from earth the cry of pain must be the most frequent, the most poignant.

For we are born in others” pain And perish in our own.

No one escapes. If pain does not come from others and from things outside us, it comes from ourselves and from our own hearts. St.Paul, who said so many wise things nearly 2,000 years ago, tells us: ―Every creature groans and writhes in pain.‖ ―You have been given the favour (note!) not only to believe in Christ but to suffer for Him. . . . . Rejoice in being partakers of the sufferings of Christ that you may also rejoice in the revelation of His glory.‖

Founders of religious Orders know their work is going to succeed if it meets with crosses and contradictions, the devil doing his worst to destroy it because of the good he foresees it will do. St. Margaret Mary, who went through terrible trials both as a girl and as a nun, especially when obeying Our Lord in trying to get established devotion to His Sacred Heart, said: ―The more suffering there is-contradictions, calumnies and every sort of trial, the more I feel encouraged and the more hope I have that all will succeed for the glory of His loving Heart.‖

To read the life of a saint is to read of suffer ing borne valiantly. For thousands of years men have become God’s nearest and dearest by schooling themselves to realise that it is God who is behind their pain. When we read that the saints accepted their suffering with joy we must not read with our human eyes but with the eyes of our soul, otherwise the meaning will be beyond us weak sinners. When St. Lawrence said, jocosely, while being roasted on a gridiron: ―I’m broiled this side, now turn me over,‖ he was not talking as a human being but as a martyr and friend of God. In his lower nature he felt every stab of pain but he refused to let it conquer him. He rose above it, looked down on it from the sublime heights of union with the Crucified, and while it scorched and seared and consumed him, he scorned it, taking refuge in the covert of God’s wings where pain- was not.

1t seems a far cry to St. Lawrence of the third century, but Irish Missioners in our age -today-have been burned alive and suffered other tortures that only devils would think of. And you and I complain if we are stripped of our reputation, honour, friends, possessions; if we have an unhappy home, or lack health or appreciation or money. The only way to endure is to reflect on what others have endured, who were flesh and blood like ourselves-an 01iver Plunkett, a Mother de Soubiran, a Mother Javouhey, a St, John of the Cross, a Therese de Couderc.

Saints, because they loved God and knew the value of suffering, welcomed it gladly. St. Teresa’s, ―To suffer or to die,‖ re-echoes down the centuries; and St. Magdalen de Pazzi’s, ―Not to die but to suffer.‖ St. John of the Cross prayed to ―suffer and be despised for Thy sake, Lord.‖ And St. John Chrysostom declares that ―all the riches and treasures of kings and emperors are not comparable to the glory of the Cross.‖ He even says he would leave heaven in order to suffer for the God of Heaven.

All the wisest and holiest men and women of all times attest their unfaltering belief that suffering is a blessing in disguise. All these people can’t be fools, can they? Do they regret their suffering now, or is their only regret that they did not suffer twice as much, when they see the glory given to God by their attitude towards it? He, too, dislikes pain. The tiniest moan of a child hurts Him as it hurts the child’s own mother. Our attitude to pain tells God what we think of Him. When we love anyone we want to shoulder all his burdens, to suffer for him, and thus prove our love. And the more we suffer for the beloved, the happier we are. This fact surely is born of Heaven not earth, and should make us understand why the saints loved suffering.

THE HOLY FAMILY SUFFERED

LOOK at the sinless members of the HOLY Family, the holiest that earth ever knew. Did St. Joseph not suffer?- he who had to endure the anguish of seeing his Virgin Spouse about to become a mother though he knew the Child could not be his. Later on an angel told him of the Virgin Birth. No need to enumerate the heart breaking sorrows of her who is called the ―Mother of Sorrows,‖ whose soul was pierced by a sword, as Simeon foretold, by reason of her motherhood of the Son of God. She was sinless, undefiled, and yet no one ever suffered as she did. She is the sorrowful Mother of the whole world.

To counteract the suffering caused by Satan and sin Our Lord assumed our human nature with what to the omnipotent God were its drawbacks.

He lived in Poverty, even in destitution that rarely falls to our lot; He worked in the sweat of His brow as one of us, to show us the dignity of labour; He put up with contempt, coldness, even calumny. Do you think that when He carried to the owner a farm implement mended by Joseph the carpenter, there were not snobs among those Easterns who kept him waiting outside for payment, spoke curtly and rudely to Him, as to an inferior, perhaps telling Him to call again at a more convenient time? And He was God who had created them, who held the world in His hand! He could have reduced the speakers to a mound of dust. He could have replied so effectively as to leave them dumbfounded-unlike you and me who think only afterwards of the grand devastating reply we could have given to ignorant bumptiousness. But ―Jesus was silent‖-to show us how to act in a similar situation. He chose the meek and humble way to teach us that to meet pride with pride, injustice with anger is no solution.

When ―put in His place‖ He accepted it, and let it be thought all those 30 years that He was merely the Son of the carpenter, Joseph. He never boasted that He was the Son of the omnipotent God and equally omnipotent Himself! When He performed some miracle, the snobs asked, with raised eyebrows ―Is not this (this!) Jesus, the Son of the carpenter Joseph?‖ And. . . . . and. . . . . how we boast of our lineage! If we are confused with lesser lights, how it riles us, till our proper status is meted out to us! How we try to glamourise our names by altering the letters! But Our Lord accepted contempt, humiliation, misrepresentation for 30 years in preparation for the awful sufferings Of the three years of His public life when He was maligned and calumniated, classed with sinners and profligates as their ―friend.‖

We know of His terrible physical sufferings ending in crucifixion for three hours suspended on a Cross, His bodily organs wrenched out of their place, the whole weight of His Body resting on a single nail, hammered through both feet! We who live luckily in this Western World can only imagine the torture of all this. And Christ never sinned, and, therefore, had no cause for expiation except as our representative who had assumed all our guilt and the burden of our debt.

You are maligned-listen to a few of the contemporary comments on, the Son of God ―He was despised, a Man of Sorrows;‖ ―Neither did His brethren believe in Him;‖ ―When His friends had heard of it, they went out to lay hold of Him .for they said: ‗He is become mad ―-the Son of God, mad!” The Chief Priests sought false witnesses against Jesus so that they might put Him to death.‖ ―The Jews took up stones to stone Him.‖ ―With the wicked He was reputed.‖ Of Himself He said: ―If the world hate you, know ye that it hath hated Me before you.‖ ―I am a worm and no man, the reproach of men and the outcast of thepeople.‖ ―All they that saw Me have laughed Me to scorn.‖ Can you not see the scoffing and jeering mob, hear the withering speech and belittling innuendoes? Shall I ever be subjected to as bad?-” If they have persecuted Me they will also persecute you.‖ ―My soul is sorrowful even unto death,‖ and the most heart rending of all His utterances: ―My God, My God, why hast Thou forsaken Me?‖ Even when He agonised on the Cross, He was subjected to scorn and mockery-though two of the signs, a decent race are care for the dying and respect for the dead. Christ got neither. ―They that passed by blasphemed Him, wagging their heads.‖ ―If You be the Christcome down from the Cross.‖ ―He saved others, Himself He cannot save.‖ ―The soldiers mocked Him, offering Him vinegar‖ when He said ―I thirst.‖

To all the insults the sinless Christ, atoning for your sins and mine, replied by calling on His Father: ―Father, forgive them for they know not what they do.‖ This to teach us to forgive when we, too, are, as St. Louis de Montfort says, ―abandoned by men and angels, persecuted, envied, betrayed, calumniated, discredited and forsaken by all; suffering hunger, thirst, poverty, nakedness, exile, prison, the gallows and all kinds of torture, although not guilty of the crimes alleged, stripped of all one’s possessions, even honour, even home.‖

We can never say that God does not know what we suffer. There is no earthly pain that did not first pass through the Heart of Christ. He bore the brunt of it all so that less would be our portion. We have only to look at ‗Him when we are maligned and humiliated. He did nothing to deserve hatred. He went about doing good. He was Love it self. He was perfect, being God. And yet no one suffered as He did. You and I can help Him by willingly putting our shoulders under His Cross, the Cross His Hand holds out to us, or- permits others to hold out to us. He is aware of every cross of ours, even the smallest.

He drank to the last drop the bitter cup of pain, enduring the worst mental sufferings a human being can endure. The physical sufferings did not penetrate His Soul as did the mental agony- the realization of all who would reject Him and forsake Him denying His love and even His very existence, to be lost for all eternity, preferring the devil to Him. This was the culminating pain of His agony in the Garden and of His Crucifixion: ―What use is there in shedding My Blood?‖

Before we leave Calvary let us look at the three cross-bearers there, and see to which type we belong, Would that it were to Christ suffering intensely for others! But it is more likely we can be classified with the repentant sinner, Dismas turning to Christ at the last moment and imploring mercy. God forbid we should be like the third-the unrepentant thiefwho died in God’s company yet rejecting Him!

Unless we are crucified Christ we will never rise with Him into eternal happiness. It was the crucifixion with ‗Christ of the good thief that enabled him to make atonement to God and to steal the biggest treasure he ever stole- Heaven. Had he never reached Calvary and the Cross he had never got Heaven so easily-just for a pleading word to Christ and a kindly recognition of His Godhead. Carrying his cross to the summit he knew the wonderful grace and happiness that same cross was to bring him. Neither do we.

Often crucifixion by suffering is God’s only way of making us turn to him. Coppee, the great French writer tells us, that he, a Catholic, gave up all religion and only when stricken with sickness after sickness did he realise his parlous state, and finally turn to God. How often has not a sick bed become the vestibule of Heaven! When the poet (and dreamer!) Francis Thompson failed for the priesthood, failed at medicine, failed everything, failed almost to keep body and soul together by doing the lowest jobs, he learned through sorrow and failure and destitution to depend upon God. He learned, literally, ―in suffering what he taught in song,‖ for the lessons ripened into the most exquisite ode in, perhaps, any language, the immortal―Hound of Heaven.‖ Had he become a famous lawyer, statesman, churchman, who would now remember him? ―Where, OKincora is Brian the Great!’

WHY? WHY?

THERE is no answer to the many ways we all ask ourselves about suffering. No philosopher down the ages has ‗ever succeeded in answering the question: ―Why the suffering?‖ much less in giving the only remedy-God alone does both. We ask: Why this pain above all others? This is the worst.‖ ―Why to me? What have I done to deserve this?‖ ―Why, now above all other times when I am trying to be good? ―. ―Can God be just when He sends such terrible trials? It’s no use my following any more the narrow path. For me in future the broad pleasant way! ―-and you won’t dare add the inevitable ending-― that leads to eternal damnation.‖ ―There’s So-and-So, who never goes to Mass or the Sacraments or pays his debts or keeps the Commandments, and everything is prospering with him.‖ Precisely. The devil takes care of his own-now !-waiting like the leopard behind the tree till he has them in his clutches. He gives now the petty satisfaction of the flesh, to be followed by an eternity of anguish and torture. God, on the contrary, like a good ‗mother giving nasty medicine, gives the bitter now to be followed by an eternity of bliss. Which is the bargain?

This is the sufferer’s weak hour, and gives the devil his chance to instil rebellion against and distrust of God, trying to make the soul renounce God, thus turning into a terrible calamity what would, if God were trusted, turn into a blessing. You are not singled out for misfortune. Everything seems to conspire to fell you to the ground, and leave you moaning there. God seems very distant and unhelpful, and thus distrust tries to get a footing in your soul. To let it in is to shut out the last gleam of hope and of daylight and so submerge oneself in a dark underground tunnel.

It is futile and criminal to scowl at Heaven. That only increases and embitters the pain. Why cast yourself off from the only source of help, the only One who understands? To renounce God because of it, to stupefy yourself with drink or drugs, or to wallow in the sensual pleasures of the world is no cure. It only adds misery to misery, sowing the seeds of what may well become a permanent trouble.

You don’t understand why this grief has blotted the sun out of your life, why God has taken from you the one person who made life worth living, that health, so necessary to you and your dear ones; that work, that peace of mind, freedom of action, that home happiness, those resources one could go on endlessly. We don’t understand, but we’ll learn the reason one day when the veil is lifted

It is only natural to shrink from pain, to feel the muscles of our heart tighten when memory brings

The light of other days around us,

The eyes that shone now dimmed and gone, The cheerful hearts now broken.

Or when some soul-searching melody steeps us in an abyss of loneliness and longing for what only God can give. God understands and sympathises. He, too, knew anguish of spirit, but greater than ours will ever be. He missed Lazarus so much that He wept at his death. He raised from the dead the only son of the widow of Naim for He could not bear to see her grief, and with arms around the boy ―He gave him back to his mother.‖ No one has as soft a heart as our God. He is watching the scales of sorrow, yours and mine, lest it exceed by a hair’s weight What we are able to bear, the amount necessary for our salvation. He hates to hurt us, to see us grieving, but He has to for our good. And He will re-unite us forever with the loved ones now gone from us for a time. If you are forced to suffer the loss of reputation, remember He was accounted the friend of sinners and partner of the devil. Betrayed by your friends? All his disciples, leaving Him fled.

One sold Him to His enemies for the paltry price of an ox or an ass. Left lonely in your suffering? He was abandoned in the hour of His bitterest suffering in Gethsemane by His three closest friends whom He begged-God begging for support and sympathy!-to stay near Him in His agony, while He sweated blood in atonement for our sins. They did not. They slept on calmly, though twice appealed to by Him!

If your kindness has been requited with ingratitude, so was His. If vile accusations have been hurled at you, He endured the same. If you’ve been humiliated and belittled, He was clothed in a fool’s garment, spat upon, slapped on the face as a presumptuous imposter, and He was Eternal Wisdom, all the wonders of whose creation the learned scientists after many years have not yet succeeded in understanding or exhausted the application of, where they do at last understand. Are you homeless and friendless, and solitary, all your children grown up and gone, or worse still, scattered by the caprice and dislike of your partner in marriage? The Son of Man had not whereon to lay His Head, was an outcast who never knew what it was to have a stead fast reliable friend. If you are ―a shut-in,‖ tied to a narrow bed in ward or room and racked by bodily pain, at least you know that it is not caused by malice or dislike, and that it is nothing compared to having thick, cruel thorns, dug into your brain and rough nails driven through your hands and feet, by those indebted to you for life and every good they ever enjoyed. If a false friend betrays your confidence while simulating affection, Christ was betrayed by the kiss of a false disciple and abandoned by almost everyone.

If to Christ why not to you and me? ―The disciple cannot be greater than,‖ or different from, ―the Master.‖ Moreover, he must do what his Master did-offer the daily round of remorseless petty sorrows, and the occasional agony of big ones for the salvation of the world. It will not be always winter, not always dark night Endure for the day. There is always a tomorrow. If you are bruised and battered today, look forward and upward, to-morrow will surely bring you a blessing or two. Life teaches us that. Only suffer in union with. Christ. Offer It all to him in love and gratitude for His many mercies and in atonement for a world that ignores Him or denies him.

OUR Lord told St. Gertrude that suffering is a sign of salvation as the ring is a sign of marriage. Sorrow is a great eye-opener. Tears blind us for a while and scald our cheeks, but they have the affect of sharpening and cleaning our spiritual sight and of showing us the nothingness and unreliability of everything earthly. The blows of life reveal to us our defects of character, our mistakes of judgement, our slips of the tongue or hand. We often discover new beauties in the dark of a moonlit night. Only through clouds do heavenly horizons appear clearly and fascinatingly.

It looks as if we are all wrong in hating sorrow. Christ suffered; Our Lady suffered; all the saints suffered, some terribly, not counting the martyrs. If Paradise lay at the end of a sunlit road of happiness Our Lord would have allotted that road to His sinless, peerless ‗Mother, and to His friends all down through the ages. But no-one suffered as did these, He could have redeemed us more easily, even by a word, but knowing life’s agonies His loving heart wanted to console and strengthen us and transform each earthly sorrow for us, leaving on it the imprint of His love.

Were suffering removed from this world the nobler qualities of humanity would cease to exist-self-sacrifice, pity, compassionate help, heroism, and in their stead would flourish selfishness, cruelty, hatreds ferocity.

Put pain from out the world, “what room were left For thanks to God, for love to man?

The world is full of kindly people whose lives are ‗dedicated to the alleviation of suffering of all kinds, bodily, mental. A brave man risks his life to save another from fire or water, and though he does not desire death, in fact dreads it, he is resigned to it if, thereby, he may do good and bring joy to another by his own suffering. A Fr. Kolbe frees a married man by taking his place in the concentration camp and enduring tortures worse than death. This heroism is seen so often that nations set aside special awards for the heroic doers. How much more must it appeal to the God of Calvary!

To face danger, suffering and death, gives one a fuller, richer outlook on life and a more accurate sense of values. ‗The character that has been built up in continuous sunshine is like a tree that never experienced the shaking storm that sinks its roots more deeply into the earth. Neither has a steadfast hold. Neither will weather a strong gale. Sorrow matures our character, makes us more understanding, compassionate, forgiving, more forbearing, less inclined to find, fault and complain, It enables us to distinguish gold from gilt; sincerity from pretence; it deepens our life, steadies us, makes us responsible, teaches us patience with ourselves and with others. Those who have suffered are a bulwark to others; their faces show peace after storm, passion and temptation overcome, in fact they reflect the harbour lights of Heaven. What do they know of God who only happiness know?

But the greatest benefit conferred by pain is that by it we can make atonement for our sins, and reparation for the sins of others. We cannot grasp how much our sins insult God because we have no idea of His exalted majesty as God and Creator. But His Passion and Death show us how terrible sin must be in God’s sight. Things that to our sin coarsened natures seem slight are horrible crimes against the All-pure God. Insults wound, in proportion to the status and refinement of their object. They overwhelm one person with anguish while merely flicking the outside of a thickskinned person. Saints who got even a faint idea of the enormity of sin used to faint when they sensed its presence. To you and me, accustomed to sin, this is incomprehensible, as we regard sin only from our side and through the tiny end of the spiritual microscope, already blurred by our desire for the sin. Atonement must bear some proportion to the majesty of the person offended and ours can’t unless we unite it to the atonement made by God the Son on Calvary.

God sometimes sends sorrow as a warning, like a light on a floating buoy, that there is danger of shipwreck. Long lonely hours of mental or physical pain bring home to one the transient nature of earthly happiness. When we see health, family happiness, reputation, crumble to dust, our whole outlook on things alters. God begins at last to get an innings. Only a fool would, when sinking in the swirling waters of sorrow, fail to take God’s outstretched hand in his, recognising His love.

―Thou chastiseth them that err . . so that learning their worldliness they may believe in Thee, OLord.‖

How grateful then we should be to God for sending us anything that will turn us back to Him for whom we were created!

To go on triumphantly through a sun-filled life ignoring the Giver of all the happiness is to be a castaway, unfit for a Heaven created to reward the good deeds done for God. To the soul blessed all along with life’s good things, suffering comes as a rescuer from perdition. It is the surgeon’s scalpel saving life, To many, suffering is God’s last attempt at rescue. Refuse to accept it as coming from His loving hand and you render Him powerless to save you. He must let you go your own way to the everlasting bonfire.

We all have to be purified, and as pain is the great purifier, pain is essential to our lives. If we were to go into heaven with the besmirched souls we have we should beg to be sent to a place of purification. Is it not said that the soul at death seeks out Purgatory for this reason? Few are completely devoted to ‗God,’ utterly His. For many of us the aim is to get all the satisfaction we can out of life without going so far as to displease God. The great majority try to get this satisfaction even, if it displeases God. That is where sin comes in. Founders of quack religions always insert some licence that appeals to fallen humanity such as easy divorce with re-marriage, relaxation of marital obligations, but God called on the Godlike qualities dormant in man and promised nothing but suffering in this life with eternal happiness to come. And yet millions find in their soul the strength to follow this hard way day after day, won over by faith in the sublime Leader who declared,―I came not to bring peace but the sword.‖

God ―must char the wood ere He can limn with it.‖ His ―harvest fields must be dunged with rotten death,‖ the death of ―the old man‖ in all of us and its desires. We all have to go through the process of being stripped of the layers of material things in which we wrap ourselves up. We must divest ourselves of this cocoon and emerge fit company for the holy ones of God, or we must let God strip us relentlessly. The awful side of suffering is not the suffering itself but the cowardice of those who relying on themselves alone, crumple up under it, letting it conquer them completely even to losing their lives.

As we climb the hill towards eternity we get by degrees the wisdom to understand better God’s reasons for sending us trials and disappointments and rebuffs,and as we look back along the path we’ve trodden we see that in all cases He was right in what He denied us, and that His ways were best.

“Did not God

Sometimes withhold in mercy what we ask, We should be ruined at our own request.”

Our Lord told St. Mechtilde that if she placed all her suffering in His Heart it would obtain forgiveness for sinners, relief for souls in Purgatory, merit for the just and additional honour for the blessed in Heaven. Our pain can do more for the Missions than all the labours of the most hard working missioners and how they do work! The Little Flower offered all her pain for this end, and it was said she saved as many souls as did St. Francis Xavier by his labours all over the East. That may be what God wants of us-not our talents as teacher or tailor. Our real lifework, that is to win Heaven for us, may be just our patient bearing of the inescapable pains of life in union with those of Christ Crucified. On you or me may depend the success of the heroic men and women now striving to draw souls into the net of Christ, and to obtain constancy for the persecuted Church in East Europe. We are small but united to Christ Crucified- we are omnipotent. Perhaps it was our willing patience in pain that gave Christ the greatest consolation He got in His Passion. With God there is no time. 2,000 years is as yesterday.

We must think of God as the surgeon of our souls who to cure them will use the knife of suffering, He will not probe or excise for the pleasure of it or for experiment. He will do it only as a sure cure for a sure evil. He knows what he is doing and the best way to give permanent relief. Can we not trust him even if only as we trust a very fallible doctor of the body?

HOW TO BEAR SUFFERING

SINCE there is no avoiding suffering, and since its only merit is got from linking it up with Christ’s suffering, we should when making our morning offering offer up all the trials of the, day in union with Christ’s Passion and Death for all His intentions and those of His Blessed -Mother. Then the devil can’t snatch our merit. We can be apostles by offering our pain for the souls of especially our kindred. My pain of mind or body may be this moment winning the grace needed by a tempted relative who will thank me for all eternity for helping him to resist sin and win Heaven. I should offer it for pagans, for those so stupid as to be atheists, for the sinner sodden in his sin, and all the rest of the massa damnata who have no one to pray them into Paradise. To save one soul is to establish a claim on God’s mercy and His Kingdom. He who for a kind word rewarded Dismas, the good thief, with Heaven, will be equally good to those who help save souls for whom He died.

Have you ever made a friend of someone, you did not like at first? You can do the same with suffering. Be nice to it by not complaining, don’t show it your worst side, accept it, nay, welcome it in God’s presence and between you two, God and you, you will make a friend of it and perhaps one day be glad of its company. Don’t take it on my word, the wise and the good attest it. ―Blessed are they that mourn,‖ not blessed are the rich and Successful (who, usually, poor things! look so worried and unhappy), moreover, not blessed are they in eternity alone, but blessed are they at this very moment.

To accept suffering willingly does not imply indifference to pain or lack of feeling. They are not to be envied who are so hard or so shallow that suffering does not affect them. This is, to take pain in the wrong way and, therefore, gets no reward. If they have steeled themselves against pain they do not accept it. Being a Stoic is not being a Christian. One must feel the pain keenly while accepting it from God. But to carry one’s cross obviously and to go about with a martyred air is only to evoke contempt. Those with grit and pluck keep on overcoming obstacles, the weaklings go under through lack of character.

We know how irritating people can be who, in our heartbreaking sorrows, say with that calm resignation we all have in other people’s sorrow:

―It is the will of God.‖ Of course it is, but they do not impress us by their unsympathetic way of using the stock phrase. If they only said it with pity and kindness the effect would be to console us. But to have it thrown at your head like a sledge-hammer does not relieve your pain. The effect on ourselves should teach us how to console others in their afflictions and one way not to do it is to represent the good, kind, fatherly God as a dictator or a bit of a despot (sorry! Lord), or even as a surgeon armed with a deadly weapon and aching to cut into us.

It is foolish to look at happiness through other peoples’ eyes. To us they seem to have all that can make life happy-they are cocooned in a blissful family life, everything they touch turns into gold, their children have successful careers and marry well,their lives are filled with health and happiness. But don’t judge hastily. If this is a true picture, it can’t last because it is not true to life. Most likely it is true only on the surface. If we knew the secret history of those people we should find many traces of sorrow.

I for one, never met anyone untouched by life’s trials. Happy people we all meet but they are happy because they recognise that sorrow is the lot of everyone and comes from the permitting hand of an all- wise and loving Father. To see the hand of anyone else in it is to be miserable. They forget-or try to-the hand that God allowed to smite them, and put bitterness and resentment far from them as unworthy of the brave Christian. That you have, or think you have, more trials than others, may be true, but is it not the courageous soldier who is given the post of danger? Cowards are kept with the crowd and in comparative safety. Do you want to be an outstanding soldier of Christ, and thus prove your loyalty to Him, or do you want to be sheltered in inglorious security? ―Gold and silver are tried in the fire but Acceptable men in the furnace of humiliation.‖ ―Because thou wast acceptable to God it was necessary that temptation should prove thee.‖ It was a wise person who prayed. ―Lord, change into bitterness for me all the pleasures of the earth.‖ God does that for those He loves, just as a loving mother smears something bitter on the nails of a child who loves to bite them.

When God is in the soul of the sufferer, there, too, are perfect peace and poise in the presence of sorrow. All creatures must suffer. Saintly souls suffer most but loving God they suffer with peace and resignation. Sinners suffer but having put God out of their life they suffer the tortures of the damned. One half the world is trying in vain to fly from suffering and death, the other half is inflicting both.

We must not let our cross be a conflict between our will and God’s. Our will must be rivetted in His and inseparable from it. If God were to offer us happiness of every kind, exemption from all ills of mind and body, in fact offered us a long unclouded life, we should so trust Him and love Him that we could say from our heart: ―Father, not as I will but as Thou wilt .Do with me whatever Thou pleasest. Send me whatever will draw me nearer to Thee.‖ And If God said, as He could‖ Joy and happiness will never draw you close to My Heart, suffering will,‖ it is easy to see what our choice should be-and, how difficult for nature to make! How much easier for us to leave the choice to Him, to abandon all to His holy will, taking the rough with the smooth, the shadow with the sun, today’s heartache with to- morrow’s Joy, all Just as God wills. Only He can apportion sorrow and joy accurately.

DARKNESS

He is nearer to us in the dark than in the light, for darkness was His own portion on earth. Lean on Him, He is beside you. Make your cross into a crucifix by seeing Him on it and uniting your pains to His. Only thus can you bear it. The naked cross without Him will appall you, crucifying you as it crucified Him. With Him there He will turn His eyes of pity towards you as He did towards Dismas, promising you Paradise.

Tell Him all. He is the only one who will never tire of listening and helping, ―His arms are stretched over your li fe from end to end, mercifully and powerfully; mercifully by not permitting you to be tempted and afflicted above your strength; powerfully by giving you grace in proportion to the violence of your temptation. . . . and by becoming Himself your support on the brink of the precipice on which you stand, your Companion on the road . . . your shelter . . . your refuge in the dangers that beset you, your harbour in the midst of the storms that threaten you with ruin and shipwreck.‖ (St. Louis de Montfort.)

When you are sinking in the dark abyss of sorrow keep your head erect and ―your chin up.‖ Ask Our Lord, with St. Thomas Aquinas, to give you ―an unconquerable heart which no tribulation can crush or quell.‖ Don’t play the poltroon; all Heaven and earth look on to see your reaction. Let God have reason to be proud of you as a follower of His Son, Let the audience of the Heavenly host, who may number many of your earthly friends, be glad to see you act as a valiant soldier. Let them be able to say to one another: ―I knew he had it in him!‖ Let those around you have reason to admire your loyalty to Christ, your steadfastness to truth and principle, your submission to God’s will.

If your suffering comes from the malice of enemies you can wipe out their satisfaction by bearing yourself bravely as a friend of God. Why give them the satisfaction of seeing you wilt under their action? Rise above it, leaving them to God and to the torture of mind they cannot stifle. If they repent of their injustice it is all to yourgood; if they don’t, infinitely worse suffering, then yours awaits them. Don’t let it embitter you. Let it cleanse and purify you. Then it will elevate and ennoble you.

Above all, don’t yield to self -pity like a baby in the nursery of life. The man of character not only accepts his share of sorrow willingly but he interests himself in the joys and sorrows of others. Help them to carry their cross and your own will already have become lighter. To tell them to forget their sorrow is a waste of breath. No one can. This sort of advice is given by those who have yet to ascend their own Calvary. More to the point to tell them that sorrow draws them closer to the Crucified. Advise them to bury it deep in the wounds of Christ.

When we hear of what others go through it makes us ashamed of our cowardice. There are far worse crosses than ours, and people we never suspect are hiding an aching heart under a calm and even cheerful exterior. You read of Polyanna, who bent almost in two from arthritis, thanked God that now she would not have to stoop so far to do the weeding in her garden! And of the man who having no shoes complained till he saw a man on crutches who had no feet! You may dub them fools but are they not gallant fools? Is not their attitude more desirable than one of sour complaint? Is not the world the better of such persons, whereas, the grumbler does no good to God or man, or to himself. We all admire a little spirit. Nothing is so despicable as the self-pity that is always sopping up the sympathy of others, even for trifles. When our withers are wrung and our tenderest feelings galled, then is the time to act like a man, not a molly.

God does not ask us to love pain as we love life and health, family and friends. That would be impossible to our corrupt nature. Even Our Lord in the Garden found His suffering almost unbearable and prayed His Father to remove it, but He quickly added: ―Yet not My will but Thine be done!‖ The most God expects from common clay like you and me is submission. We can have that in our soul while our whole being is repugnant to the pain. To tell Him we wish we could accept it joyfully but that we just can’t bear it, is to tell Him what He already knows and understands.

NO ONE SO”BIG” AS GOD

No one is so understanding, so tolerant, so big, so forgiving, as God. He went through every phase and variety of suffering Himself, and you’ve found out long ago that it is only persons who carry a cross like, our own who really understand what we suffer. He knows we are bruised reeds and He never ―breaks the bruised reed.‖ ―Though I should walk through the valley of the shadow of death. I will fear no evil for Thou art with me. Thy rod and Thy staff have comforted me.‖ Notice the rod! Being a son and heir you have not to be treated with aloof politeness, you can be whipped into good behaviour!

God’s Ways of shaping us for Heaven are drastic. He has to inspire someone to ―squeeze the pulp out of our pride, and leave us stripped and naked,‖ fit to be clothed with virtue. Our pain would be lessened if we did not luxuriate in it as in a hot hath. A good cure for it, or at least a softener, is to make a list of our many blessings. We all have some. And if we fix our eyes on these and not on the pain we could be more courageous. There is no one without a cross, apparent or hidden. But their trust in God helps them to carry it gallantly. Without whining or darkening the lives of others with complaint and demands for pity.

We can’t find perfect happiness, that is joy, on earth, it is the element of Heaven. Those who tell you they are happy mean that at present life has let them alone. Why do two women love to put their heads together and ―have a good talk‖? Simply to tell each other about the wrenches and jolts and disappointments of their life and to compare notes. They are not so keen to share their few joys.

Find out the contented ones, the cheerful ones and you’ll notice they are not those who have no crosses, but those who have schooled themselves to see God’s Hand in everything, and who know He will work things out for their good. They wind up their tale of woe always’ with our grand Irish saying: ―Blessed be God’s holy will! May it never die out in our land! They know that God never closed one door without opening another; that a break is bound to come, that that needed money will be got somehow (try giving and you’ll get a hundredfold!), that desired job or as good will turn up, that hostility cease, that illness be cured, or- peace and resignation to the pain, be given. Don’t give up hope, for to lose hope is to lose all the zest of life and be worse than dead. But ―be one whom hope cannot delude nor sorrows discontent.‖ Neither let trouble and anxiety freeze you into a lonely iceberg, aloof from the comradeship of God and man and floating solitary in an ocean of bitterness and despondency. Open Book II and III of that wonderful book, ―The Imitation of Christ,‖ in which people I know get an answer to all the puzzles and anxieties of life. Go to the Mother of Sorrows, whose heart is open to receive all the sorrowing, to guide and console them, a heart that sounded all the depths of sorrow. Though mothers all down the ages have suffered through their children, no one but Mary the Immaculate saw her Son crucified through the hatred of the guilty.

Make your own the motto of Juliana of Norwich, who, sunk in anguish over the evils of the world -even then !- came to the wise conclusion, after much thought and prayer: ―All shall be well, and all will be well, and all manner of things shall be well.‖ One of the things that amazes most in life, and consoles, is to see how God turns the misfortunes and hurts of His friends into blessings. You may miss the boat but you also miss the collision. Take heart. God is our Father. Are we treating Him as such? Put fear and distrust out of your life, and fill it instead with boundless confidence that the God who feeds the birds will look after you, that not a hair of your head falls to the ground unseen by Him. Bring yourself to

Thank God for the bitter and endless strife And the sing of His chastening rod Thank God for the stress and pains of life And oh! thank God for God!

He has what no earthly father has -the power to do all things, and the knowledge of what were wise to do in the circumstances and what refrain from doing. Do you know anyone who is not perplexed as to what course to take with husband or wife or child, with business, employers or employed? Is not this nagging worry on the increase, or am I mistaken? But we Catholics have God in our Tabernacles day and night waiting to help and sustain us. He gives us sympathy-unvoiced, It is true, but none the less real. He is ready to straighten out our tangles, to turn the discords of life into harmony, to soothe our jangled nerves.

He knows every bruise of our wounded heart and spirit, everything that was said and done for us or against us, every disappointment we have in ourselves and others. He will tell us exactly what to do and say in doubtful situations. He sees past, present and future, and is longing to help us, to guide, and console us, to remove the obstacles to our happiness. He is, you know, as soft-hearted as a fond mother.

THE COMFORT OF THE BLESSED SACRAMENT

Why do we not kneel oftener at His Feet in the Blessed Sacrament, pouring out all our troubles and-our joys. He is a safer confidante than any earthly friend, and He is all powerful. It is He who all down the ages sustained the saints, the persecuted, the tempted, the wavering, the weak. No one fell who went to Him. And He will sustain us if only we go to Him trustfully. How much young people miss when they don’t realiseGod’s presence in the Blessed Sacrament! How real God must be to the youngster who lately ended up her night prayers during an epidemic with the original prayer: ―And please, Lord, do take care of yourself, for, if anything were to happen to You, what would become of us all without You?‖ Strange theology, but how the Lord’s eyes must have glistened with love, and His Arms gone out to hug that child who knew Him for her Father and whole world! His Heart burns with infinite pity and desire to help us, because we are His children, and our tears over our broken toys evoke His sympathy. He will remove the trouble if removal is best for us. We can see ourselves that there could be cases where to remove trouble would be the ruin of us, and not what we would ask if we, too, could see the future. Sin must be expiated and Heaven earned.

And is it not more acceptable that way? How utterly out of place we should feel if untried and untested we got into the glory of Heaven, receiving the accolade without having deserved it! God does not despise us as weaklings, unable to bear the slightest scratch. He knows every fibre of each individual, and why a slight cross weighs on one much more than a heavy one on another, why a slander that one would shrug off nonchalantly, tortures another. He knows where the cross hurts each, and it is only He who can adjust it so that it is less galling.

Earthly friends get credit for much that He inspires them to do for us. He never thinks little of our moans, never dubs us ―hippish,‖ a word creatures love to use-of others. He only remembers that we are like little children running to the mother with a finger prick. And as no one ever knew a mother to repulse her child, neither will. He send anyone away unrelieved. Why, oh why, do we not go oftener to Him in His visible Home, the Tabernacle and tell Him all, good and bad? That’s why He is there He won’t turn a deaf ear or plead pressure of work as do earthly friends, who have trouble enough on their own, and do not want their hearts harrowed by any more suffering. God is not like that. Though He likes to hear us tell Him our joys, it’s our cares and worries and griefs He likes best to be told of, because in our joys we are self sufficient but in our sorrows we need Him and His helping hand, and He goes all out to assist us. But we must remember that this help may not always include removal of the trouble as He sees the good we can derive from it by submission to His holy will. Our sick child may die but it is a thousand times better to bewail a dead child than a living one. Many a man or woman owes a rounded and perfect Catholic, life to the anguish inflicted by an erring husband or wife or child. Trust, only trust your Father. Say with Browning:

Let one more attest

I have lived, seen God’s Hand thro” that life-time, And all was for the best.

Are we, Catholics, blessed with all the graces of the True Faith and having Jesus and Mary always at our beck and call, going to be less loyal to God? Are we going to show the white feather and go under with cowards while the less favoured uphold His standard, fighting bravely and trustfully to their last breath? Leave tomorrow, and its needs to God. He will provide if we trust Him. That crushing misfortune will be averted or turned to our good, and the cloud will show its silver lining bringing joy. God hears all our prayers but answers them in the way He sees best for us. That, too, should console, for we have seen mothers ruin their child’s character by giving in to it on every point. Listen to the God who lets suffering come to us:― Fear not for I have redeemed thee. . and loved thee with an everlasting love. Thou art mine, when thou shalt pass through the waters I will be with thee, and the rivers shall not overcome thee. Call upon Me in the day of trouble and I shall deliver thee. I am He that blot out thy sins FOR MY OWN SAKE, and I will not remember them. Return to Me and I will receive thee He that toucheth you toucheth the apple of My eye. Even to your old age and to your grey hairs I will carry you. Because he hath hoped in Me I will deliver him. I will protect him because he hath known My name. He shall cry to Me and I will hear him.‖

Say this from a’Kempis, and get peace of soul:

“Lord, Thy care over me is greater than all the care I can take of myself . . . for it cannot but be good whatever Thou shalt do by me, If Thou wilt have me to be in darkness be Thou blessed, and if Thou wilt have me to be in light be Thou again blessed; if Thou vouchsafe to comfort me be Thou blessed; and if it should be Thy will I should be afflicted, be Thou always equally blessed . . . I will receive with indifference from Thy Hand good and evil, sweet and bitter, joy and sorrow; and will give Thee thanks for all that happens to me . . , Cast me not off for ever, nor blot me out of the book of life, and whattribulation soever befalleth me shall not hurt me.”

Nihil Obstat

GUILELMUS FITZPATRICK, CENS. THEO. DEPUT

Imprimi Potest

@ JOANNES CAROLUS,

Archiep. Dublinen, Hiberniae Primas. Dublini, 5/4/54.

********

The Holy Infant of Prague

L.R. MACE

INDEX

THE City of Prague, the capital of the ancient Crownland of Bohemia, was, and still is, one of the most important and interesting as well as one of the most beautiful of the capital cities of the world.

Bohemia covers an area of about twenty thousand square miles (about two-thirds of the size of Ireland) and from its geographical position may be said to have been selected by nature to play an important part in the history of the world and particularly of Europe. It occupies the geographical centre of Europe, being equidistant from all the European seas and is the converging point where the great races of the human family meet, Teuton and Slavonic, Celtic and Mongolian. It was naturally the arena of many a sanguinary conflict all down through the ages and its capital was often the bone of contention over which the nations growled and snarled at each other and was many times the cockpit where their armies settled their disputes by the bloody arbitrament of the sword.

The inhabitants, who numbered 6,670,582 in 1921, are a thrifty and industrious people who carry on an enormous trade, mainly in glassware of all descriptions, with the rest of the world.

Prague, like many other cities with historical associations of a similar kind, has progressed steadily in importance, in dignity and in beauty. At present it has a population of almost seven hundred thousand and is the seat of many manufactures. It has an industrial fair twice a year and a famous annual motor exhibition. It is one of the greatest aviation centres of the Continent. This splendidly appointed modern city has two other distinctions of which it is prouder than of all the rest; it is the centre of virile Catholicism and it contains the shrine of the Holy Infant of Prague. There were 5,216,180 Catholics in Bohemia in 1921. Czech patron saints, particularly St. Wenceslas, King of Bohemia, are held in great veneration. St. Wenceslas is regarded as the defender of the Czech nation and the most beautiful chapel in St. Vitus Cathedral, overlooking the ancient Prague Castle, has been dedicated to him and enshrines his relics.

The statue of the Holy Child Jesus of Prague is one of the best known and most widely venerated sacred images in the world. Like almost all the other miraculous treasures of the Church, it had a chequered history before it attained its present fame and became finally and firmly established at its present site in the Carmelite Church of Our Lady of Victories in the City of Prague. By whom or under what circumstances it came to be fashioned is shrouded in the mists of antiquity. The first knowledge we have of it is that it belonged to Princess Manriquez de Lara of the Royal Family of Spain, to whom it had descended as a precious heirloom, and that it was regarded even in her time, and perhaps long before, as the medium through which Almighty God deigned to bestow graces and favours of an extraordinary nature. Princess Manriquez presented the statue as a wedding gift to her daughter, Princess Polyxena de Lobkowitz, who took it with her to her home in Bohemia.

It is remarkable that whenever it pleases our Heavenly Father, in His Almighty power and infinite love for us, to open to us, a new avenue of grace and mercy, the powers of darkness invariably rise in arms and by diabolical artifices endeavour to destroy or render impossible of access the new fountain of His beneficence. It is, therefore, not to be wondered at, but is on the contrary a sign of normality, that this beautiful statue should pass through many vicissitudes, suffer indignities and be several times in imminent danger of destruction before reaching the position it now holds in the affection and devotion of pious Catholics in every land under the sun.

THE CARMELITES COME TO BOHEMIA

When Ferdinand II ascended the throne of Austria in 1617 he found his empire in a sad and disquieting state. Protestantism, which had been slowly but steadily making its way into his dominions during the reign of his predecessor, had now established itself so securely that its sectaries were powerful enough to rise in arms against their Catholic Emperor. This was the beginning, of the terrible Thirty Years’ War which devastated the greater part of the Continent of Europe from the year 1618 to 1648. Ferdinand appealed to the neighbouring Catholic princes for assistance, but he did not place all his confidence in brute force. Knowing that without the help of Almighty God he could not hope for any real and decisive victory, and feeling that his cause was the cause of Christ Himself, he appealed to the Pope for prayers and spiritual aid, and begged him especially to send a legate to show his approval and to hearten his Catholic soldiers in their grim fight for faith and king. Accordingly Pope Paul V sent as his legate the Father General of the Discalced Carmelites, Father Dominic of Jesus and Mary, who arrived at the imperial camp on the 20th July, 1620, and immediately took up duty as chaplain-general to the forces. But Father Dominic -was more than chaplain; he quickly became the very heart and soul of the army. A man of great personal holiness, possessed of the zeal of a crusader and gifted with fiery eloquence, he established an ascendancy over officers and men and inspired them with a courage and determination which could not know defeat.

One day, while going on his rounds, Father Dominic found, in an old castle near Strakonice, the ancient seat of the monastery of the Knights of St. John, under a heap of refuse, a painting which had been profaned by the Protestants. It was a picture of the Crib at Bethlehem, representing Our Lady kneeling beside the Holy Child, with Saint Joseph standing holding a lantern, and two shepherds in the background. The eyes of all the figures had been stabbed, through with bayonets except those of the Divine Infant. Father Dominic took possession of the picture and brought it around from regiment to regiment showing it to the soldiers and calling on them to prepare to sweep the cowardly and blasphemous enemy out of their beloved country.

When the two armies met at the White Mountain, under the walls of Prague, Father Dominic passed through the ranks on horseback bearing aloft the disfigured picture of the Nativity as a standard and crying out in a loud voice:”Ubi sunt misericordia tua antiquae Domine?” (“ Where are Thy ancient mercies, O Lord?”), and: Exurge., Deus et Judica causam tuam” (“Arise, O Lord, and judge Thy own cause”). Then addressing the soldiers he called on them to repeat aloud these words of the Salve Regina: “Turn thine eyes of mercy towards us, O clement, O loving, O sweet Virgin Mary.”

With this beautiful prayer on their lips the Catholic army opened their attack, and although unfavourably positioned at the outset, gained a victory so complete and decisive that the power of Protestantism in Bohemia was broken forever. So utterly unexpected was the result of the battle that the Protestants themselves were forced to admit that their defeat was the result of a miracle, but, of course, they put their own construction on the source of the super natural intervention and spread the report that “a magician had come from Rome, who, by his sorcery, had overwhelmed them.” It was typical of their illogical mentality at that time, even as it is to-day, that while they scoff at the miraculous as superstition when it comes from above, they are ever ready to give the devil credit for it when it reacts to their own discredit or discomfiture.

In gratitude to Father Dominic, Ferdinand founded several Carmelite Monasteries throughout the Empire. In Prague he granted a site for a church and monastery on a terrace of the Malá Strana, one of the most ancient parts of the city. The church was built and was dedicated to Our Lady of Victories on the Feast of the Nativity of the Blessed Virgin, 1624. The church as it stands today is a stately and beautiful building and enshrined above the high altar is an authentic copy of the mutilated painting of the Crib. Over another richly decorated altar in grey marble stands the wonderful statue of the Child Jesus. The statue is enclosed in a glass shrine. It is of wax about eighteen inches in height and is robed in real draperies, richly embroidered, and wears a crown which is beautifully ornamented and studded with precious gems. -It represents the Holy Child standing, His right hand raised in blessing, and his left hand holding a golden globe. The face of the statue, at once childish and majestic, is exquisitely modelled and wears an expression of peculiar sweetness. The altar is continually resplendent with burning tapers, and is never without its group of votaries, for the people of Prague love their Holy Child and go to His shrine with their joys and sorrows, knowing well that He will purify the one and sympathise with and console them in the other; and He never sends them empty away.

THE STATUE IS PRESENTED

The Emperor wished to endow the monastery at Prague, as he foresaw that the friars would have great difficulty in providing for themselves in a city in which a large percentage of the population was Protestant, and where the Catholics were impoverished by a long and bitter war; but the Carmelites, holding strictly to their rule intimated that they could not accept an endowment. While Ferdinand remained at Prague, he saw to it that all the material needs of the Fathers were supplied, but the court had not been long transferred to Vienna when the unfortunate community found itself destitute. The priests had the most absolute trust in Divine Providence and even when they were fainting with hunger they offered their privations and sufferings to Our Divine Lord and prayed with hope and confidence “Give us this day our daily bread.” Such heroic faith could not go unrewarded. It was at this crisis that Almighty God saw fit to draw from its obscurity, for the benefit of His starving ministers, the statue of the Child Jesus. One day in 1628, Princess Polyxena, whose husband had died five years previously and who had, since his death, devoted herself to works of charity, presented herself at the monastery bearing in her arms the beautiful statue and offered it to the Fathers, saying:”In this statue I am giving you my most precious earthly possession. Honour and respect the Child Jesus andyou will never be in want.”

The Fathers gratefully accepted the statue and placed it in the oratory of their novitiate, where it became the object of their special devotion; the novices took up the devotion with particular enthusiasm.

Very soon the prediction of the Princess was fulfilled. Donations began to come in and before the end of the year (1628), Ferdinand, hearing of their dire straits, granted to the monastery a pension of two thousand forms, to be paid from the treasury of Bohemia. This great good fortune, which was regarded by the Fathers as a direct answer to their prayers, had the effect of increasing their devotion to the Holy Child. They met daily for prayer before the statue and went to the Divine Infant as represented by it in all their needs and troubles.

The little Jesus continued to shower blessings on the community. Their vineyard, which had hitherto been entirely unproductive, the following year gave an abundance of grapes. Every member of the community felt the influence of the Holy Child. One priest in particular was granted a grace which made him ever afterwards the devoted client of the Divine Infant, and he was subsequently the means of saving the statue from oblivion and probable destruction. This was Father Cyril of the Mother of God. For thirty years this good priest suffered from interior dryness. His soul was like a desert and he performed his religious duties with the greatest aversion, with never a ray of celestial consolation to warm his heart. On Christmas Day, 1629, Father Cyril threw himself at the feet of the Holy Child, and resolving to honour him henceforth as his companion in the Novitiate, besought him to deliver him from his miserable state and give him some interior consolation. His prayer was immediately answered and from that day forward he was able to perform his spiritual duties with fervour and joy.

The peace and security the Fathers enjoyed was short-lived: once more they were to experience trials; and, alas for the inconstancy of human nature, their devotion to the Holy Child was soon forgotten. The Protestants, securing the aid of the King of Sweden, again took up arms. Bohemia was invaded and the garrison of Prague in face of superior numbers were forced to evacuate the town. The principal citizens fled also and with them the Carmelites, both priests and novices, escaped to Vienna. Only two of the Fathers were left behind in charge of the church and these were at once arrested. The church was taken over by the Protestants, who, as might be expected showed scant respect for the little waxen image of the Babe of Bethlehem.

A year later Ferdinand retook the town and the Carmelites returned, but they re turned to a looted and ruined monastery and a desecrated and much damaged church; and faced with the tremendous work of reconditioning the place they never gave a thought to the little statue which such a short time ago, had been the object of their special veneration. Possibly, if they thought of it at all, they concluded that it could not by any chance have escaped destruction; and, in any case, the novices whose devotion to the statue was most intense, and who would have had more time and opportunity to search for it than the harassed priests, did not return- the novitiate being permanently transferred to Vienna.

Once more the community experienced the direst misery. They were even forced again to desert the church in 1634 when the Swedish army took possession of the town. They were able to return .to it in 1635, but their state of destitution did not improve and they found the greatest difficulty in procuring a bare subsistence; repairing or refurnishing the church and monastery was out of the question.

All this time the little statue was lying in a heap of rubbish behind the altar where the heretics had thrown it, and no one remembered the words of the Princess when she presented it to the friars:”Venerate this Image and you will want for nothing.”

THE RETURN OF FR. CYRIL

For seven years the statue remained unhonoured in the rubbish heap, and for this seven years the Carmelite community remained in abject poverty and distress.

Towards Whitsuntide in 1637 Father Cyril was sent back to Prague from Vienna and at the same time the Protestants were threatening a new war. The poor friars were storming Heaven with their prayers that, if it were the Holy Will of God, they might be left at least with the roof over their heads. In this extremity Father Cyril ventured to remind the Superior that formerly devotion to the Holy Child and veneration of the little statue had brought great blessings on the house, and obtained permission to search for the statue. After a considerable delving, among debris in various parts of the monastery he at length found his beloved waxen figure, buried where it had been thrown under an accumulation of odds and ends at the back of the a1ter. His heart was filled with joy, and he eagerly removed all, traces of the dust and dirt, with which the precious statue had become covered, whilst he kissed it affectionately and washed it with his tears. He had no difficulty in obtaining permission to erect it in a place of honour in the oratory, and no sooner was it restored than the heretics raised the siege and an abundant donation of food was received at the monastery from a totally unexpected quarter. Once more the community made their spiritual exercises in the presence of the statue and peace and prosperity returned to their house.

One day as Father Cyril was praying before the statue he heard distinctly these words: “Have pity on me and I will have pity on you; restore my hands and I will grant you peace; in proportion as you honour me, I will favour you with my graces.”

The good priest was astonished; he began to wonder if he were dreaming; for he had not noticed that the statue was damaged as it was covered with a mantle which he had not removed. On examining it more carefully he was horrified to find that both its hands were missing. He immediately took the precious image to the Prior and begged permission to have it repaired; but the prior was constrained to refuse, saying, quite truly that they were barely able to buy enough bread to keep them alive and that there were a great many more pressing demands on his slender resources to be satisfied before he could think of spending money on repairing the statue.

Father Cyril was disappointed, but he by no means despaired of ultimately attaining his object. Had not the Holy Child Himself asked him to restore the hands of the statue? Clearly the Divine Infant would, in own good time provide the means to have the work done. He went to the Babe Himself with his trouble as he was accustomed to do with all his personal ones. His answer was not long delayed. A few days later he was called to administer the Last Sacraments to a pious and wealthy man to whom he related the whole history of the miraculous image. Deeply touched by his account, the sick man presented him with one hundred florins to have the hands of the statue restored, and Father Cyril went joyfully back, to the monastery, his heart singing paens of praise and gratitude to his dear Holy Child.

What was his consternation? However, when the good father Prior, instead of having the precious statue repaired, decided to purchase a new one, declaring that it was more handsome and devotional than the old one.

No sooner, however was this statue erected than it was smashed to pieces by a heavy candlestick, which was firmly fastened to the wall, falling upon it.

Soon after this the Prior resigned office and was succeeded by Father Dominic of St. Nicholas, a saintly and learned man, to whom Father Cyril brought the statue and renewed his importunities to have it repaired. Father Dominic was, interested, but he was penniless. Father Cyril returned to his cell with the statue, and falling on his knees implored, the Infant Jesus to find a way out of the difficulty. No sooner had he finished his prayer than he was called to the church to see a lady who had asked for him. The lady, who was unknown to him, was of dignified and venerable appearance and she gave him a large sum of money saying that God had taken pity on their distress and sent them this donation. He took the money and began to express his gratitude but the lady suddenly vanished and an interior voice told him that the kind donor was no other than Our Blessed Lady herself. He took the money to the Prior believing that now at last his cherished desire would be fulfilled. The Prior at once consented to have the repairs done, but before there was time to send the statue away further difficulties arose. The repairs to the buildings had cost nearly double the amount the Prior had estimated, and heavy and urgent demands were made on him; the heretics again threatened the city; and as if that were not sufficient the plague broke out and some of the friars died of it and the Prior himself fell sick. So the statue remained in its mutilated condition.

THE STATUE IS REPAIRED

Father Cyril was almost disheartened, but he remembered the words he had heard whilst praying before the statue: “Have pity on me and I will have pity on you; restore my hands and I will grant you peace,” and he knew that what the Holy Child wished would one day be accomplished in spite of all obstacles. He examined his conscience to find out if any neglect of his, any undue eagerness, want or other fault had contributed to the present unfortunate state of affairs. Clearly, it must be the Evil One himself who was using his diabolical ingenuity to thwart the wishes of the Divine Babe. There was nothing for it but to return to prayer.

Father Cyril took the statue back with him to his cell and prayed as he had never prayed before.

The Holy Infant took compassion on His faithful servant. Once more the prayers of the holy priest were interrupted by a voice from the statue and he heard the words: “Place me at the entrance to the sacristy: there someone will have pity on me. Whoever does so shall be well rewarded.’’ He hastened to obey this command and then returned to his cell to continue his prayers. Soon afterwards a stranger calling at the sacristy noticed the broken statue and requested that he might be allowed to take it away and have it repaired at his own expense. The permission was granted and a few days later the statue was returned to the monastery made perfect in every detail. It afterwards transpired that the generous stranger was in great distress at the time of his visit to the sacristy. He had held a position of trust at the Court of the Emperor but was accused of maladministration and dismissed. His home had to be broken up and he and his family were practically ruined. No sooner was the statue replaced on its pedestal in the church than word was received that the Emperor had discovered that a miscarriage of justice had occurred and wished his servant to return and resume his office of commissary. The statue was at last restored to its place in the church, but alas, not to its former position in the devotion of the friars.

With exception of Father Cyril, who never wavered in his loyally, the friars were indifferent to its appeal. Hard times and continual dangers had upset their equanimity and besides none of them had personal experience of the bounties and blessings which had followed on devotion to the Holy Child in bygone years. But Our Divine Lord had resolved to bring them back to he simple devotion of children at His own time and in his own way. As we have already seen, the plague was raging in the town, some of the friars had died of it and the Prior himself, whom they loved and reverenced as a father, was lying grievously ill of it. This was Father Cyril’s opportunity. He implored his brethren to come with him and prostrate themselves before the Holy Child and ask Him to spare the life of their beloved Prior. They then went to the Prior himself and begged him to promise that if Our Divine Lord deigned to restore him to health he would establish devotion to the Divine Infant in the monastery. The Prior, moved by their solicitude on his behalf, made the promise and also vowed that he would celebrate Mass nine times before the statue. Immediately a wonderful improvement was noticed in his condition, and he was able to be up and about his duties.

This miraculous cure had the effect of inspiring the whole community with love and devotion once more for the dear Babe of Bethlehem, and the Fathers vied with each other in showing their gratitude.

Once more prosperity and peace returned to the monastery. For years the provision of the bare necessaries of life had been a continuous strain and often the larder was completely empty and the friars were on the brink of starvation. Now donations came flowing in, and so the prophecy of the good princess Polyxena was again fulfilled and the community literally wanted for nothing.

Soon the devotion which brought such blessings on the Carmelites spread through the City of Prague, over the land of Bohemia, and, extending in ever widening circles, reached to the most distant parts of the world.

Later the Carmelites had a special chapel built to enshrine the statue, and Father Cyril lived to see it solemnly erected in an appropriate setting in. its new home. He died on the 4th of February, 1675, at the age of eighty-five years.

On the 13th January, 1741, the statue was removed to the altar where it stands to the present day, and although another storm of persecution broke out later it has never since been taken down. Even when the Carmelite monastery was suppressed on the 3rd of July, 1784, and numerous ex-voto offerings and other valuables seized the statue was allowed to remain under its costly glass shade, and even the twenty angels wrought in solid silver which surrounded it were not interfered with.

The Knights of St. John took over from the Carmelite Fathers the honour and responsibility of guarding the statue of the Holy Infant, and to this day their priests from the Monastery at Malá Strana administer the parish of Our Lady of Victory. They endeavour in every way possible, particularly through the Czech magazine which they publish themselves to support and spread the adoration of the Holy Child. They maintain active contact with English-speaking countries. Such associations bring to mind an event in the relations between the Kingdom of Bohemia and Ireland. In 1631 some Irish Franciscan Fathers, who had been driven from their country by Queen Elizabeth, came to Prague and the following year built themselves a monastery which was called the House of the Hibernians. To this day the adjoining street is known as Hibernian Street. Up to the year 1768 when their monastery was closed they were a very active community.

SOME RECORDED FAVOURS

This brochure may fittingly close with the recital of a few of the recorded favours granted in answer to devotion to the Holy Infant of Prague.

During the lifetime of Father Cyril, the Baroness Elizabeth of Kolowrat, a descendant of the noble house of Lobkowitz which originally possessed the statue, was stricken with a very serious illness. She had lost her speech and hearing and her life was utterly despaired of when her husband Baron Henry of Kolowrat, suddenly thought of the statue and begged Father Cyril to bring it to the bedside of his wife. The good priest did so, and placed the statue in the arms of the dying lady. At the request of the Baron, Father Cyril consented to leave the precious image in the sickroom for a time, and departed for the monastery intending to return for it later. He had only left the house when a messenger was sent after him to tell him that the Baroness had already recovered her speech and hearing. In a few days she was completely restored to health. In thanksgiving she adorned the head of the statue with the precious crown which it wears to this day. The Baron also gave many rich offerings, and in his will he bequeathed to the shrine of the Holy Infant a beautiful silver lamp and a precious reliquary.

In the year 1833, a young girl of Graz, the capital of Styria, lay dangerously ill. She had been given up by the doctors and received the Last Sacraments, when same pious nuns who attended her in her illness brought her a facsimile of the statue of the Infant of Prague. After gazing on it with love and confidence she fell into a deep and tranquil sleep, and on awakening cried out atonce: “I am cured. The Holy Child has cured me.” Those around her bed thought that she was delirious and sent for the doctor, who, on examining her, pronounced her perfectly cured.

In the year 1752 the young son of Joseph de Viquet, physician to the royal family of Bohemia, was stricken with smallpox which attacked his eyes, so although he recovered from the illness, he had the misfortune to lose his sight. The father seeing that human science could do nothing for the boy took him to the shrine of the Holy Infant where they attended Mass in the church. During the Mass the child suddenly called out: “Mamma I can see the Infant Jesus.” From that moment the boy’s eyes were completely cured.

In 1891, M. de Laurens was obliged to leave his chateau in Belgium and go to Montpellier to undergo a very complicated operation, He was suffering from an abscess on the liver and the operation was the only possible remedy which offered a chance of saving his life. When his family physician went to remove the bandages in order to allow the specialist, Dr. Dubreuil, to examine the patient, what was astonishment to find that all trace of the disease had disappeared.

“If it were possible for the operation to be performed without leaving a mark,” he said, “I should say that it had been done. It is extraordinary. Did Our Lady of Lourdes do this? “No” replied Madame de Laurens,”I must attribute this cure to a novena which I had made in honour of TheHoly Child of Prague.” “Well said the doctor, “it is certainly a miracle.”

At Brixton, London, an English lady, Teresa Bader, was threatened with blindness. A Mass was celebrated at the Shrine of the Holy child, and a picture of the miraculous statue was placed on her eyes and she was completely cured.

LITANY OF THE HOLY INFANT OF PRAGUE (FOR PRIVATE USE ONLY)

Lord have mercy.

Christ have mercy.

Lord have mercy.

Christ hear us.

Christ graciously hear us.

God the Father of Heaven, Have mercy on us.

God the Son, Redeemer of the world,

God the Holy Ghost,

Holy Trinity, One God,

O Miraculous Infant Jesus, Have mercy on us

Infant Jesus, true God and Lord, Have mercy on us,

Infant Jesus, Whose omnipotence is manifested in a wonderful manner, Infant Jesus, whose wisdom searches our hearts,

Infant Jesus, whose goodness continually inclines to aid us,

Infant Jesus, Whose providence leads us to our last end and destiny

Infant Jesus, Whose truth enlightens the darkness of our hearts

Infant Jesus, Whose generosity enriches our poverty

Infant Jesus, Whose friendship consoles the afflicted

Infant Jesus, Whose mercy forgives our sins,

Infant Jesus, Whose strength invigorates us,

Infant Jesus, Whose power turns away all evils,

Infant Jesus, Whose justice deters us from sin,

Infant Jesus, Whose power conquers hell,

Infant Jesus, Whose lovely countenance attracts our hearts,

Infant Jesus, Whose greatness holds the universe in His hand,

Infant Jesus, Whose love-inflamed heart enkindles our cold hearts,

Infant Jesus, Whose miraculous hand raised in benediction, fills us with all blessings,

Infant Jesus, Whose sweet and holy Name rejoices the hearts of the faithful,

Infant Jesus, Whose glory fills the whole world.

Be merciful, Spare us, O Jesus.

Be merciful, Graciously hear us, O Jesus

From all evil, Deliver us, O Jesus.

From all sin, Deliver us, O Jesus.

From all distrust in Thy infinite goodness. Deliver us, O Jesus.

From all doubts against Thy great power of miracles. Deliver, us, O Jesus.

From all lukewarmness in Thy veneration. Deliver us, O Jesus.

From trials and misfortunes. Deliver us O Jesus.

Through the mysteries of Thy holy child hood. Deliver us, O Jesus.

We sinners, beseech Thee, hear us.

Through the intercession of Mary, Thy virgin-mother, and Joseph, Thy foster father, We beseech Thee, hear us

That Thou wouldst pardon us,

That Thou wouldst bring us to true repentance,

That Thou wouldst preserve and increase in us love and devotion to Thy sacred infancy, That Thou wouldst never withdraw Thy miraculous hand from us,

That Thou wouldst keep us mindful of Thy numberless benefits,

That Thou wouldst inflame us more and more with love for Thy Sacred Heart, That Thou wouldst graciously deign to hear all who call upon Thee with confidence, That Thou wouldst preserve our country in peace,

That Thou wouldst free us from all impending evils,

That Thou wouldst give eternal life to all who act generously towards Thee, That Thou wouldst grant us a happy death,

That Thou wouldst pronounce a merciful sentence on us at the judgment, That Thou wouldst in Thy miraculous image remain our consoling refuge, Jesus, Son of God and of Mary,

Lamb of God, etc., three times,

Jesus hear us.

Jesus graciously hear us. Our Father, etc.

LET US PRAY

O miraculous Infant Jesus! prostrate be fore thy sacred image, we beseech Thee to cast a merciful look on our troubled hearts. Let Thy tender heart so inclined to pity, be softened at our prayers, and grant us that grace for which we ardently implore Thee. Take from us all affliction and despair, all trials and misfortunes with which we are laden. For Thy sacred infancy sake, hear our prayers and send us consolation and aid, that we may praise Thee, with the Father and the Holy Ghost, for ever and ever. Amen.

LITTLE CHAPLET OF THE HOLY INFANT JESUS

The origin of this devotion is due to the zeal of the Venerable Sr. Margaret of the Blessed Sacrament, religious of Carmel, who died in the odour of sanctity at Beaune (France), the 26th of May, 1648, aged 29 years.

This worthy servant of St. Teresa is celebrated for her devotion towards the Divine Infant. Inspired from on high, she made a chaplet composed of three Our Fathers in honour of the Holy Family, and twelve Hail Marys in memory of the twelve years of the childhood of Jesus.

Each Our Father and eac h Hail Mary to be preceded by the words: “And the Word was made Flesh and dwelt amongst us.

The Infant Jesus deigned to make known to His faithful servant how pleasing this holy practice was to Him, by revealing to her that He would grant special graces, above all, that of purity and innocence, to those who carry this chaplet with devotion and recite it in honour of the mysteries of His Holy Infancy.

As a sign of His approval, He showed to her this chaplet all shining with supernatural light

Pious parents, do you wish to preserve the Baptismal innocence of your children? Inspire them with a tender devotion towards the Infant Jesus, make them carry and recite this little chaplet with devotion, calling on their Divine Model, Whom they should love and imitate.

Little children are His special friends.

N0TE.-Pope Pius IX attached 300 days’ indulgence to the recitation of this little rosary-9th August, 1858.

EFFICACIOUS PRAYER

(Indulgence of 40 days.)

REVEALED BY OUR LADY TO THE VEN. FR. CYRIL OF THE MOTHER OF GOD

O little Jesus I have recourse to Thee. I beg of Thee, by Thy holy Mother, deliver me from—. For, I firmly believe Thy Divinity will protect me. I hope with confidence to obtain Thy holy grace.

I love Thee with all my heart and all my soul.

I repent of my sins, and on my knees, I beseech Thee, little Jesus, to deliver me from them.

I firmly resolve to correct myself, and to offend Thee never more.

Therefore, I offer myself to Thee, in order to suffer much and patiently for Thee

And moreover, I. wish always to serve Thee faithfully; and to love my neighbour as myself, for Thy sake. O little Infant Jesus! I adore Thee. O powerful Child I beg of Thee, deliver me from—, in order that I may enjoy Thee with Mary and Joseph, and adore Thee with all the angels eternally. Amen.

PRAYER TO JESUS, MARY AND JOSEPH

ACT OF OFFERING TO THE HOLY INFANT JESUS

(To be said on the 25th day of each month.)

O most Holy Infant Jesus, desiring to honour Thy most Adorable Infancy, which was the first state upon earth to which Thou didst subject Thyself for my salvation, I, though a most unworthy sinner, choose Thee this day in the presence of Thy Blessed Virgin Mother Mary, and of St Joseph, Thy most faithful Foster Father, as my King and my Lord; and I firmly purpose to love and serve Thee always, and to honour Thee especially in this state in which Thou, O Word Eternal, Immense and Infinite, wert born a little babe for the love of me. Ah! be pleased, most loving Babe, to bless this my respectful offering, and give me grace to depend henceforth wholly upon Thee, as Thou in all things didst depend upon Thy Virgin Mother, and St. Joseph, so that I may be fit to be a servant in Thy Holy Family on earth, and then be admitted to the citizenship with the Angels and Thy Saints in Heaven, and therefore do Thou bless me, save me, and help me. Amen.

Five Glorias, in honour of the Heart of the Infant Jesus.

NOVENA TO THE HOLY INFANT JESUS

FOR CHRISTMAS

(Commences on the 16th December).

PRAYER

All Hail! Most lovely, most holy, most, amiable, and loving Infant Jesus, King of my soul. Ah! blessed be the hour in which Thy Holy Mother will give Thee to me as my ransom. Oh! most beautiful above the children of men! give me grace to prepare to receive Thee worthily on the glorious feast of Thy Nativity. Give me a heart all glowing with holy desires, love, gratitude, and ardent zeal to correspond with the designs which bring Thee on earth. Give me the true spirit of Thy Holy nativity, a spirit of humility, silence, detachment, docility, meekness, and true and ardent charity. Give me grace daily to advance in devotion to Thy blessed infancy, and faithfully to persevere in the discharge- of all my duties in spite of the allurements of Satan, or the railleries of the world. Bless me then, Divine Infant, as Thou didst bless the humble and simple shepherds watching over their flocks; and let me ever remember that it is to the humble, simple, and faithful Thou dost most willingly communicate Thy choicest gifts. Amen.

Infant Jesus, poor and simple, grant my petitions!

Infant Jesus, humble and obedient, grant my petitions!

Infant Jesus, silent and recollected, grant my petitions!

Infant Jesus, inflamed with love for us, grant my petitions!

Our Father, Hail Mary, and Gloria.

A PRAYER TO THE CHILD JESUS

O Child Jesus, I have recourse to Thee By Thy holy Mother. I implore Thee to assist me in this necessity (here mention your request), for I firmly believe that Thy Divinity can assist me. I confidently hope to obtain Thy holy Grace. I love Thee with my whole heart and my whole soul. I am heartily sorry for my sins, and I entreat Thee, O good Jesus, to give me strength to overcome them. I resolve never again to offend Thee, and to suffer every thing rather than displease Thee. Henceforward I wish to belong to Thee and to serve Thee faithfully; and for the love of Thee, O Divine Child, I will love my neighbour as myself. O Jesus, most powerful Child, I again implore Thee to assist me in this necessity (mention it). Grant me the grace of possessing Thee eternally, with the holy Angels and Saints

Amen.

ACT OF OFFERING TO THE BLESSED VIRGIN

O Virgin and Mother! O Temple of the Divinity! O marvel of Heaven and earth! my great Mother Mary! it is just that, whilst thou hast brought forth for us an Infant God, we should honour in thee the most exalted dignity of the Mother of God, and should consecrate to so worthy a Mother all the homage of our whole being, I therefore offer myself and give myself up wholly unto thee this day and desire with a resolute will, to serve and love thy Holy Child Jesus, my Saviour, my God. I know that in doing so I shall give thee pleasure and the homage which I pay to thy Son will be also be a homage paid unto thee His Mother.

Accept, then, O most loving Mother, this my offering of love, which, that it may be still more acceptable to thee, I present to thee by the Hands of the Infant Jesus. Ah! By those swathing bands in which thou didst wrap Him in the manger, bind my will, so that I may never retract the offering which I have made of myself this day to thee, and to thy Holy Infant. Place me under thy most holy mantle, guard me, help me, and defend me to the last moment of my life. Amen

Three Hail Marys in honour of the Heart of the Most Holy Virgin.

ACT OF OFFERING TO THE PATRIARCH ST. JOSEPH

Most glorious Patriarch, chaste spouse of the great Mother of God, and Foster-Father of my Lord Jesus Christ, my loving St. Joseph, confiding in the greatness of thy holiness, and offering thee, the love which Jesus and Mary bore thee, I choose thee this day, in their presence, to be my especial Protector; Advocate, and Patron; and I firmly purpose to keep this devotion to thee always burning in my heart. And since I know that thou wert appointed by the Eternal Father to be the Head of the Holy Family upon earth, I desire to be one of its devoted servants and friends, and I beg of thee to admit me into the number. I desire, unworthy sinner that I am, to render to thee also the homage which I pay to the Infant Jesus and to His Virgin Mother. I beseech thee also, O my most glorious Father, St. Joseph, to obtain for me, through thy great merits, and by thy most powerful intercession, the grace to imitate in my life thy most holy conversation with Jesus and Mary, so that I, too, like thyself, may enjoy the assistance of Jesus and Mary at my death, and in their arms may breathe forth my soul, saying:”Jesus, Mary and Joseph, I give you my heart and my soul.” Amen.

An Our Father, Hail Mary, and Gloria in Honour of St. Joseph.

LET US PRAY

O God, Who by the Holy Family of Nazareth, hast consecrated the whole earth, and hast in Jesus, Mary and Joseph, given to us the pattern of holy living, grant us, we implore Thee, that imitating the virtues of the same Holy Family, we may come to praise Thee in Heaven together with the Angels.

PRAYERS OF THE HOLY INFANT JESUS AND ST. JOSEPH

To obtain help and comfort in times of difficulty.

O Most Holy Infant Jesus, Thou Who knewest the affliction of Thy beloved Foster-Father, St. Joseph, and didst console him at the appointed time, revealing to him by the mouth of the Archangel the mystery of Thy Divine Incarnation in the womb of the most holy Mary, send to me, I beseech Thee, in this time of my sore difficulty and affliction, the help and comfort of Thy grace, so that I may find a remedy for the evils which weigh down my soul and body.

This favour I likewise seek from thee, O my beloved St. Joseph, beseeching thee to obtain it from the Infant Jesus, by that infinite joy which thou didst feel at the angelic tidings, “That which is conceived in her is of the Holy Ghost.”

Five Glorias in honour of the Most Holy and loving Heart of the Infant Jesus.

An Our Father, Hail Mary and Gloria in honour of the amiable Heart of St. Joseph.

OFFERING TO THE MOST HOLY INFANT

To be made on the 25th Day of every Month by Heads of Families.

O my most adorable Infant Jesus, my King, my Saviour and my Lord, I dedicate myself to Thee this day in Thine honour, giving up to Thee my whole being, my soul, my body, my will and the goods which Thou hast given me, and in short, all that belongs to me. I beseech Thee to take the possession and absolute dominion of it all, as I desire no longer to live but in Thee, nor to possess anything in the world, except it be according to Thy will, permission, and divine appointment, so that henceforth I may look upon myself simply as an instrument in Thy hands, O most Holy Infant Jesus, that Thou mayest do whatsoever Thou desirest with me in all things.

I BEG THESE GRACES OF THEE THROUGH THE INTERCESSION OF THE MOST HOLY VIRGIN, THY MOTHER, AND MY ADVOCATE, AND OF MY PROTECTOR, ST JOSEPH. AMEN

A NOVENA IN HONOUR OF THE HOLY NAME OF JESUS

Oh! Merciful Jesus, Who didst in Thy early infancy commence Thy office of Saviour by shedding Thy Precious Blood, and assuming for us that name which is above all names, we thank Thee for such early proofs of Thy infinite love. We venerate Thy Sacred Name, in union with- the profound respect of the angel who first announced it to the earth, and unite our affections to the sentiments of tender devotion which the Adorable Name of Jesus has in all ages enkindled in hearts of Thy servants. Animated with a firm faith in Thy unerring Word, and penetrated with confidence in Thy mercy, we now most humbly remind Thee of the promise Thou hast made, that when two or three should assemble in Thy Name, Thou Thyself wouldst be in the midst of them. Come, then, into the midst of us, most amiable Jesus! for it is in Thy Sacred Name we are here assembled. Come into our hearts, that Thy holy Spirit may pray in and by us; and mercifully grant us, through that Adorable Name, which is the joy of heaven, terror of hell, the consolation of the afflicted, and the solid ground of our confidence, all the petitions we make in this Novena. Oh! Blessed Mother of our Redeemer, who didst participate so sensibly in the sufferings of thy dear Son, when He shed His Sacred Blood, and assumed for us the name of Jesus, obtain for us, through that Adorable Name, the favours we petition in this Novena. Beg also, that through our love for Him that Sacred Name may be imprinted on our hearts, that it may be always in our minds, and frequently on our lips; that it may be our defence in temptations, and our consolation and support in the hour of death. Amen.

PRAYER TO THE ADORABLE NAME OF JESUS

May the Adorable Name of Jesus be the sweet and daily music of my soul and the seal of my heart; and when, in the agony and cold sweat of death, I give the last look for mercy, may the parting sigh of my soul be to Jesus, Amen, sweet Jesus, Amen.

PROTESTATION

In obedience to the decrees of Urban VIII we declare that when speaking of miracles and extraordinary deeds or events, we only do so in accordance with the usage of ordinary language, without meaning in any way to anticipate the judgments of HOLY CHURCH

Nihil Obstat

JACOBUS BROWNE, Censor Deputatus.

Permissu superiorum. Die 27 ,Januarii, 1939.

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The Holy Sacrifice of The Mass

HIS GRACE THE MOST REVEREND JOHN CHARLES MCQUAID, D.D ARCHBISHOP OF DUBLIN, PRIMATE OF IRELAND.

INDEX

THE MASS: CENTRAL ACT OF THE TRUE RELIGION

OUR FAITH teaches us that the central act of the true religion of Jesus Christ is the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass. For this reason we are obliged by the Church to assist at Holy Mass on Sundays and the greater Feast Days. From our childhood, we have accepted as our bounden duty this serious obligation and by the time that each of us has reached ripeness of age, the number of occasions on which we have been present at the Holy Sacrifice is a surprising total. It is, then, well for each Catholic to ask himself the question that later will be put to him at Judgment: have I grown, with the passage of the years, in understanding and appreciation of the Mass? It is happily possible for all persons, even for the young and the unlearned, fruitfully to assist at the Sacrifice of the Mass. We cannot, however, claim that we worthily love Our Divine Redeemer, Who shed for us His precious Blood, if negligently we leave unopened the treasury of the Mass.

When one considers the accurate meaning of Holy Mass, one finds that it is useful or rather, necessary, to have explained the nature of sacrifice in general. The words one uses and the ideas that these words express at first seem difficult. Yet it must be remembered that persons of every age and type have always assisted at the offering of sacrifice. It must then be easy for everyone to grasp that which a sacrifice is meant to signify. In this context, it is not hard to employ figurative language or to describe the Mass, especially in its effects, by the use of highly-coloured phrases. It will, however, be found that the sober accuracy of the language in which the Church sets forth her teaching, if at first it tastes uninteresting, is, in the long run, the only satisfying food, on which genuine devotion can be kept alive and nourished to maturity.

THE MEANING OF SACRIFICE

Properly speaking, a sacrifice is an outward and public act of religion, which is done in honour of God alone, in order that men may admit and reverence His complete dominion. In a true sacrifice, accordingly, an offering is made to God to show forth man’s total dependence on the Creator. That dependence of the creature reaches to man’s existence, to his activities and to his final destiny: it covers all his being either as an individual person or as a member of society. Only by offering himself totally to God, in mind and will and body, can a man properly acknowledge his utter dependence on his Creator. Only by a visible outward ceremony can a man duly express the hidden dispositions of his soul towards God. Hence the full surrender of his being to God was expressed by the outward external offering of some visible thing, which was set apart for God alone and was taken to represent the being and the life of man. In the history of sacrifice, we find that some destruction of the visible thing thus offered or of the victim, as it was called has always taken place. Man, then, set apart for God alone and, in some way destroyed, a creature, over which he himself had dominion, as a visible sign and proof that, in lowly subjection, he offered his existence and activity to God, Who is the absolute owner of creation.

It is in the nature of man to offer sacrifice. Even if God had not Himself in person intervened to establish rites of sacrifice, some form of sacrifice would have been necessary to enable men to manifest due reverence to their Creator and to secure from human society a public admission of the supreme majesty of God:

It is not, indeed, the value of the thing itself offered to God that is chiefly to be considered in sacrifice, nor yet the full destruction of the victim, but rather the aptness of the rite or ceremony to express visibly man’s inner attitude of adoration.

Moreover, since no created thing is of its nature suited to signify the peculiar honour owed to God, it follows that the rite of sacrifice must be fixed by God’s authority as the sign suitable for expressing man’s acknowledgement of the Sovereign Creator. Further, a person must be designated and set aside, who, in the name of human society, will perform the ceremony of sacrifice. Hence, we find in the Old Law that God Himself chose certain rites as suitable for sacrifice, with shedding of blood or some equivalent destruction and named Himself one tribe of Israel as priests to offer Him due sacrifice.

THE PURPOSE OF SACRIFICE

The first purpose, accordingly, of sacrifice is to admit and reverence the infinite majesty of God.” Man however, is a sinner and for that cause stands in the debt of his Creator. The offering, therefore, and sacrifice to God of a victim take on the additional meaning of repentance for the sins that merit the just punishment of God. Further; it is not possible for man to know and praise the Creator, without also giving thanks to Him that He has created us and kept us in existence, and without at the same time acknowledging that it is to Him we must look for the answer to our prayers. For these reasons, in fine, a sacrifice takes on the character not only of an act and sign of adoration, but also of an act and sign of satisfaction for our sins, of thanksgiving for God’s benefits and of petition for our every need.

THE SACRIFICE OF THE MASS

These somewhat difficult ideas become easy to grasp, when one considers the Mass, the Sacrifice of Jesus Christ, for at once we meet the adorable Person of the Divine Redeemer, God made Man. All the sacrifices of the Old Law ordained by God had been the types of Him Whom at last men saw and heard in human form, in the towns and countryside of Palestine: they had been dim figures of the unique Sacrifice of Jesus Christ upon Mount Calvary. Our Divine Lord Jesus Christ, constituted by God High Priest from all eternity, in shedding His Precious Blood on the Altar of the Cross, offered Himself to God, in sacrifice, as a victim for our salvation. By that single sacrifice of the Cross our redemption has been once for all accomplished, satisfaction has been fully made to God for sin all merit has been won completely. Christ died for all, that they also who live may not now live to themselves unregenerate in sin, but in holiness with Him Who died for them. We are sanctified by the oblation of the Body of Jesus Christ once. Offering one sacrifice for sins, He for ever sitteth on the right hand of God.

THE MASS A PERFECT TRIBUTE OF ADORATION

Our Divine Redeemer, in His mercy, found a means of establishing a Sacrifice which would not only recall and represent His death but also apply to each and every man the Saviour’s merits and satisfaction. And by the same Sacrifice so instituted mankind would be enabled to offer to God unceasingly a perfect tribute of public adoration. This is the unique and holy Sacrifice of the Mass. For, on the night before He died, Our Divine Lord instituted the Sacrifice of the Eucharist or Mass, by which in an unbloody manner, His Body and Blood would be offered to God beneath the appearances of bread and wine. “And whilst they were at supper, Jesus took bread and blessed and broke and gave to His disciples and said: Take ye and eat. This is My Body. And taking the chalice, He gave thanks and gave to them, saying: Drink ye all of This, For this is My Blood of the New Testament which shall be shed for many unto remission of sins.”“ At the Last Supper, He Who is a Priest for ever according to the order or manner of Melchisedech ordained His Apostles priests and commanded them and their successors in His priesthood to offer the Sacrifice of His Bodyand Blood until the end of time. “Do this for a commemoration of Me.”

THE MASS THE SAME AS THE SACRIFICE OF THE CROSS

This, then, is the unique excellence of the Mass that, being a true and proper sacrifice, it represents and recalls the Sacrifice of the Cross. In substance the Mass is the same as the Sacrifice “of the Cross. The same Priest, Jesus Christ, continues to offer Himself to God the Father by the ministry of His lawful priests. The same Victim, Jesus Christ, is now truly present on our altars under the appearances of bread and wine. Only the manner of offering differs in the Mass from that in the Sacrifice of the Cross. In death upon the Cross, the Precious Blood was physically shed and separated from the Body. Today upon our altars, the Precious Blood is shed for us and separated from the Body, not indeed physically, but sacramentally, under a sign or symbol that expresses death: the separate consecration of the substance of the bread which now becomes His Body, apart from and previous to the consecration of the substance of the wine which now becomes His Blood.

THE PURPOSE OF THE SACRIFICE OF THE MASS

The purpose of the unbloody offering which Jesus Christ makes of Himself and of His Church to God in Holy Mass is not different from that which He made with the shedding of blood upon Mount Calvary. For this the Church teaches is the clean oblation of which the Prophet long ago made mention: “from the rising of the sun even to the going down, my name is great among the Gentiles: and in every place there is offered to my name a clean oblation. Thus the Holy Sacrifice is an unceasing fount of adoration.

The Mass, too, is the endless thanksgiving, made Jesus Christ and His Church for all the benefits of God, our Creator and our Father. “He gave thanks, says the Sacred Scripture, referring to the institution of the Blessed Eucharist. The very name of Eucharist means thanksgiving. That the Mass is equally a sacrifice of appeasement to God is the constant teaching of the Church. Christ Himself has told us that in the sacrifice of the Eucharist His Body is given for us, that His Blood is shed for many, unto the remission of sins. And if Holy Mass is instituted for the pardon of sin, it must aim no less at obtaining from the mercy of God the other needs which follow upon our state of fallen creatures. The purposes, therefore, of the Holy Sacrifice are exactly similar to those for which Our Saviour offered Himself on the altar of the Cross.

THE EFFECTS OF HOLY MASS IN REGARD TO GOD

The effects of the Holy Sacrifice correspond without change to those of the Sacrifice of the Cross. If we consider those effects in regard to God, we cannot fail to gain fresh knowledge and esteem of Holy Mass. For the Mass is a never-ending Source of perfect adoration and thanksgiving and reparation and petition. In the Mass it is God made Man Who is Himself the Principal Offerer. In the Mass it is Jesus Christ Himself Who offers Himself to God, under the appearances of bread and wine. By reason of the infinite dignity of Him Who offers, because the Victim offered is of infinite worth, the Mass cannot fail to produce the effects for which it has been instituted. Unfailingly, independently of the holiness of human celebrant or assisting faithful, each Mass will always pay to the Blessed Trinity a limitless tribute of praise and thanks. Each Mass infallibly gives God a greater reparation than all the wrong that sin of men and Angels could inflict upon the Divine Majesty. Each Mass unerringly obtains remission of sins and grace of every kind that makes for man’s salvation. Such is the glory and the worth of Jesus Christ, true God, true Man, Divine Redeemer of mankind.

THE EFFECTS OF HOLY MASS IN REGARD TO US

The effects of Holy Mass, in regard to us sinners, are measured by the disposition of our souls. As a sacrifice of reparation, the Mass obtains for those, who are not obstinate in resisting God, the graces by which they are led to genuine repentance and to the fruitful reception of the Sacraments. In like manner, the Holy Sacrifice remits, immediately and unfailingly, for the living and the dead, the temporal punishment due to sin, in the measure of the charity of those who assist at Mass or for whom the Mass is offered. As a sacrifice of supplication, the offering of Jesus Christ in Mass cannot fail, of itself, to obtain the graces and the temporal benefits we need for our salvation. But it must be remembered that Holy Mass avails to win for us that only which the Providence of God sees fit to give, in proportion to the fervour and the perseverance of our prayers.

It follows that they benefit most fully by the Holy Sacrifice who properly unite with Jesus Christ in the offering of Himself in Mass. The efficacy of the Mass is infinite in that the dignity of Jesus Christ, Principal Offerer and Victim, is infinite. The efficacy of the Mass is infinite in that it applies the boundless merits of the Cross, without being limited by the number of the souls who draw the grace of Christ from out of this treasury. But they draw the greatest grace who assist at Mass with deepest faith and firmest adherance to the loving Will of God.

UNION WITH OUR DIVINE REDEEMER IN THE OFFERING OF HIMSELF There are many methods of assisting fruitfully at the Holy Sacrifice; and all are good. One attitude of soul, however, we would emphasise beyond all others: the effort to unite ourselves more closely with the offering of Himself which Our Divine Redeem makes to God in the Sacrifice of the Mass. This attitude is a conscious understanding of the truth that by the character of Baptism, by the grace of Christ, we are members of that Body of which Jesus Christ is Head. It is then a disposition of complete surrender to the claims of God. It is a readiness to carry the Cross of His Will in all the aspects of our life. It is a permanent inclination to do always that which is pleasing to God the Father after the model of Our Saviour, Jesus Christ. In the first instant of His existence as man, He declared His oblation of Himself to God: “Holocaust for sin did not please Thee. Then said I: Behold I come to do Thy Will, O God.” In the moment of His death, He declared that He had finally accomplished all that Will: “it is consummated.”

OUR BLESSED LADY AS OUR MODEL AT HOLY MASS

This union with the offering of Jesus Christ in the Mass is by the grace of God easy to all. Even a child can understand it, while the unlettered, and specially those who suffer, can here outstrip the learned in their contrition and their fervour. This is that disposition of soul which was most perfectly possessed by Our Blessed Lady. At the Annunciation, Mary, in accepting to become the Mother of the Saviour, offered herself to God, in fullest union with Her Divine Son, to do the will of God as His lowly hand-maid. From that moment, each successive trial of her life only served to increase the depth and merit of her sacrifice. At the Presentation, she heard the words of Simeon, which, foreshadowing the Cross, transfixed her soul. In the Three Days” Loss, in the Home of Nazareth, in the Public Mission, she was being made ready for the final agony of the Passion and the Cross. Standing beneath the Cross, she offered herself in union with her Son, Whom she fully knew to be the Saviour, in the unique Sacrifice which was the redemption of mankind. It is because she was so closely linked with Jesus Christ in the offering of Himself on Calvary, that the Mother of the Divine Redeemer is now the universal Mediatrix who intercedes for human kind and distributes, all the graces of Christ.

UNION WITH JESUS CHRIST IN MIND AND HEART

No grace more precious-unless it be the grace of final perseverance-can be won for us by Mary’s intercession than the enduring union of our mind and heart and soul with Jesus Christ, in the perfect worship of the Holy Mass. This is that “spirit of lowliness and sorrow of heart” of which mention is made at the Offertory, and for which we are prepared by the confession of sin at the beginning of Mass, by the petition of all the Collects and by the instruction of the Epistle and Gospel. In such an attitude of humble adoration we acknowledge in the Preface that through Jesus Christ all benefits come to us from God. Before the Consecration as suppliants, in union with the glorious ever Virgin Mary, Mother of Jesus Christ, our God and Lord, together with all the Saints, the Pope, our Bishop and all who make profession of the one true Faith, we beg to present to God the Father the Host and Chalice about to be consecrated as the sign or offering of submissive adoration made by us His servants and by all the family of His Church. After the separate Consecration, symbol of death, by which the Body and Blood of Jesus Christ become truly present on the altar, “as servants of God, His holy people, we offer by the hands of the priest to the most excellent majesty of God the pure and holy and spotless Victim, the holy Bread of eternal life, the Chalice of eternal salvation.” We most humbly beg “to be filled with all heavenly graces and blessings through Christ Our Lord.” As sinners we entreat Him to grant us “some part in the fellowship of His elect, not, indeed, in consideration of our merits, but according to the kindness of His pardon through Christ Our Lord.” For, we confess, through Jesus Christ all honour is paid to the Most Holy Trinity and good things of salvation secured to men. Continuing in the prayer of Christ Himself, we petition God that He may be known on earth, that we may do His Will, and obtain the graces necessary to be free from sin and peaceful through Jesus Christ. Then addressing ourselves directly to the Divine Redeemer, Who taketh away the sins of the world, in the prayers before Communion, we beg that Jesus Christ may not regard our sins, but may look upon the faith of His Church and make us to cleave at all times to His commandments.

To assist at Holy Mass in the disposition that these prayers evoke is to unite ourselves completely with the offering made by Jesus Christ upon the Cross and renewed perpetually in the Holy Sacrifice. We should then, seriously endeavour to understand more clearly the meaning of the Mass, so that, being united with Jesus Christ, our God and Saviour, our lives may be made entirely subject to the Will of God and the teaching of His Church. It is our very earnest desire that we who are privileged to assist at Mass so often may, by the intercession of Our Blessed Lady, more fully submit to God in contrite adoration, more humbly thank Him for His benefits and more completely satisfy forour sins, so that, in each and every aspect of our daily lives, we may “more lovingly adhere to His commandments nor ever be separated from Him,” by the merits of the Sacrifice of “the one Lord Jesus Christ, only begotten Son of God, Who for us men and our salvation came down from Heaven and became incarnate by the Holy Ghost of the Virgin Mary, and was made man and was crucified for us.”

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The Holy Year

BY REV. JOHN R. MACMAHON, S.J

INDEX

THE JEWISH YEAR OF JUBILEE

FOR AN EXPLANATION of the word “Jubilee,” we must go back over three thousand years -back to the days of Moses. In Leviticus, one of the Mosaic books, the following law is set forth: “Thou shalt also number to thee seven weeks of years; that is to say, seven times seven, which together make forty-nine years. And thou shalt sound the trumpet in the seventh month, the tenth day of the month, in the time of expiation in all your land. And thou shalt sanctify the fiftieth year, and shalt proclaim remission to all the inhabitants of thy land: for it is the year of jubilee. Every man shall return to his possession, and every one shall go back to his former family. Because it is the year of jubilee and the fiftieth year. You shall sow not, nor reap the things that grow in the field of their own accord, neither shall you gather the first fruits of the vines, because of the sanctification of the jubilee. But as they grow you shall presently eat them. In the year of jubilee all shall return to their possessions “ (Levit., C. 25, VV. 8–13).

The trumpet which was to be sounded was a ram’s horn. Now the Hebrew word for a ram was “Jobel,” and, by a series of changes, this word came to mean, first, the horn of a ram, then the sound produced by blowing through it and, finally, the solemnity of which that sound was the signal. From the Hebrew word “jobel,” therefore, we get the word “jubilee,” with its present meaning.

For the Jewish people the year of jubilee was a time of joy. The soil was rested. There was no tillage and no harvest. Land which had been sold under pressure of poverty was restored to its former owner; Israelites who, through poverty or otherwise, had become the slaves of their brethren, were set free. The words of Scripture were realised: “Every one shall return to his possession, and every one shall go back to his former family.”

This Jewish year of jubilee was the prototype of the year of jubilee which has been established in Christ’s Church.

THE CHRISTIAN YEAR OF JUBILEE

WHEN AND UNDER what circumstances was the first Christian jubilee celebrated? A definite answer to this question cannot be given. The first jubilee of which there is clear and conclusive evidence is that of the year 1300, which started strangely.

As the year 1299 was drawing to a close, the report spread in Rome and other places that a great indulgence would be gained by all Christians visiting the Roman Basilica of the Prince of the Apostles during the following year. On the first day of January, 1300, nothing unusual happened in Rome till evening. Just about sunset, however, people began to flock from all quarters of the city towards the great Basilica of St. Peter. They streamed across the Tiber, and crowded into St. Peter’s, until the vast space was a sea of humanity; yet the human tide flowed on, every member of the crowd intent on one aim only-to gain the great indulgence. The succeeding days saw no diminution in the throngs who came to visit St. Peter’s, for now strange faces were to be seen: the inhabitants of the surrounding country and neighbouring towns were no less eager than the people of Rome to gain the spiritual favours of the New Year- and with these strangers were yet others who had come great distances, impelled by the same pious motive.

The Pope of that day-Boniface VIII-had noticed the crowds and, on learning the object which had brought them, he caused diligent search to be made among the records, but the records contained no reference to any indulgence such as was now talked of. Was there, then, no foundation for the report, which had drawn such multitudes from far and near to the Basilica of St. Peter ? The records were silent, it is true, but they had suffered during the turbulent times Rome had experienced, and were incomplete. In the absence of written evidence, oral testimony was forth-coming. An old Savoyard was presented to the Pope. He declared that he had been brought to Rome by his father a century before, to gain the indulgence which was offered every hundred years. His father had told him to return to Rome in 1300, if alive, and to visit the new church of St. Peter, so as to gain once more the great Indulgence. As the old man’s age was 107, his testimony as to what had happened a hundred years before was considered satisfactory. Others were found-some Italians and two old men from the diocese of Beauvais, in France-who gave similar evidence. They were not in agreement as to the extent of the indulgence. The old Savoyard declared that it was an indulgence of 100 days, which could be gained on every day of the year. The two men from Beauvais maintained that it was a plenary indulgence.

The Pope consulted the Cardinals and published, on 22nd February, 1300, the Bull Antiquorurn habet fida relatio.(Full translation in Appendix). In this Bull he stated that, according to the trustworthy testimony of some old men, great indulgences had been granted to those visiting the Roman Basilica of the Prince of the Apostles. The Pope confirmed and renewed these indulgences, and also granted, for the year 1300 and for every hundredth year following, “ not only a full and copious, but the most full pardon of all their sins,” to all those who, being truly contrite, should confess their sins and visit the two Roman churches of St. Peter and St. Paul, at least once a day for thirty days, if Romans, and for fifteen days, if strangers or pilgrims.

Although the word “jubilee” does not appear in the Bull Antiquorum, the resemblance between the Christian Holy Year and the Jewish Year of Jubilee was sufficiently striking for the Jewish word to be borrowed, and to come into general use at once. The first Pope to use the word officially was Clement VI.

Following the publication of the Bull Antiquorum, pilgrims flocked to Rome from all parts of Europe. Asia even contributed to the throng. A list of nations represented at the Jubilee ends with “one Tartar.” The pilgrims were of all ages and of all conditions. Some were so infirm or so old that they had to be carried by their companions. Many died on the way, or before they could complete the visits to the Basilicas. To all such the Pope granted the Jubilee indulgence, just as if they had carried out all the conditions.

So great an influx of strangers was a severe strain on the resources of the city; but owing to the Pope’s forethought, special supplies were available, and provisions for men and fodder for horses did not run short. One of the chroniclers of the jubilee, John Villani, wrote:

“The greater marvel I have ever witnessed was that throughout the whole of this year there were continually in Rome 200,000 pilgrims, exclusive of the inhabitants of the city, and without counting those who were on their way, and all were sufficiently provided with food, both men and horses. I can render this testimony as I was present.”

Naturally, the streets were crowded-so much so that people lost their lives in the crush. A breach was made in the walls to relieve the congestion, and another device adopted was the erection of a barrier along the middle of the Ponte Sant’ Angelo, so that the crowds pressing forward to visit St. Peter’s, and the crowds returning to the city might be kept separate, It is to this that Dante refers, in the 18th Canto of the Inferno. when he writes:

“‘Even as the Romans, for the mighty host,

The Year of Jubilee, upon the bridge

Have chosen a mode to pass the people over;

For all upon one side towards the Castle

Their faces have, and go unto St. Peter’s;

On the other side they go towards the mountain.”

Whether or not Dante took part in the Jubilee is uncertain. The lines we have quoted show that the Roman authorities had experience of the traffic problem, and took steps to meet it.

The amount of spiritual good of which this Jubilee, was the cause cannot be estimated, but the visit to Rome, the centre of Christendom, the inspiring example of the multitudes of devout pilgrim’ s, the spiritual exercises, the ceremonial, so full of meaning, all must have conspired to confirm the faith and enliven the devotion of those who took part and, through them, of many of their neighbours who had stayed at home.

For Pope Boniface the success of the Jubilee was especially gratifying. The manifestations of faith and loyalty to which it gave rise contrasted sharply with the coldness and insults which had been, and were to be, his portion. The Jubilee has been described as “the only successful and cheering event in the whole pontificate of Boniface.”

According to.the Bull Antiquorum, the next Jubilee should not have been held until 1400, but in 1342 the people of Rome sent a deputation to Avignon, on the banks of the Rhone, where Pope Clement VI was then residing. One of the members of the deputation was Petrarch, who had become a Roman citizen. They made two requests-first, that the Pope would return to Rome; second, that he would shorten the period of one hundred years, which was to separate each Jubilee from the next. They pointed that that the period was too long, having regard to the normal duration of human life. The Pope did not grant their first request, but he reduced the period between the Jubilee years to half a century, and proclaimed a Jubilee for the year 1350. The conditions were to be the same as in 1300, save that the church of St. John Lateran was to be visited in addition to St. Peter’s and St. Paul’s. As the “Babylonian Captivity” continued, the Pope sent a legate to Rome to take his place.

The times were not propitious. The terrible pestilence known as the Black Death had devastated Europe, carrying off, it is estimated, forty million victims. On the 10th September, 1349, Italy was shaken by an earthquake, which did much damage to Rome, and was looked upon by the superstitious as an omen of greater evils to come. The same country, moreover, was rent by factions; civil order no longer existed; on both sides of the Alps bandits flourished, tolerated and even encouraged by the local barons. In Rome itself the pilgrims were often victims of the rapacity of the inhabitants, many of whom were unable to resist the temptation of overcharging strangers for the necessaries of life.

In spite of all these adverse circumstances, the Jubilee Year 1350 far surpassed that of 1300 in the number of its pilgrims. According to the annalists, there were at times, between Christmas and Easter, 1,200,000 pilgrims in Rome, and never less than a million. From Easter to Pentecost the average was eight hundred thousand.

The third Jubilee was that of 1390. Only forty years, instead of fifty, had elapsed since the second Jubilee, but Urban VI anticipated the date in order to placate the Romans, who were at that time unusually restive. Urban died in October, 1389, so it was his successor, Boniface IX, who was Pope during this Jubilee. Visits to the church of Saint Mary Major were added to the former conditions for gaining the Jubilee, and since then the churches to be visited have always been the same four-St. Peter’s, St. Paul’s, St. John Lateran and St. Mary Major. The wonted throngs were seen at this Jubilee, but they were chiefly composed of pilgrims from Central Europe. The Great Schism was running its disastrous course, and France withheld its multitudes. Repudiating, as they did, the authority of Urban VI and his successor, Boniface IX, they refused to recognise the change in the period of fifty years prescribed by Clement VI. But in 1400, the proper year according to them, they came in very large numbers. The Romans/welcomed this influx of visitors, for it meant a substantial increase in their revenue. The Pope was then living at Assisi-whither the violence of the Roman populace had driven him. The Romans were afraid that the Pope’s absence would diminish the solemnity of this unorthodox Jubilee, and that the numbers of pilgrims would be reduced. They sent an embassy to the Pope, asking him to return to Rome. This he did, and it is believed that he granted, orally, to the French pilgrims of 1400 the customary Jubilee privileges.

Urban VI had decreed that the Jubilee should be held every thirty-three years, as that was the period of Our Lord’s life on earth. Martin V therefore proclaimed a Jubilee in 1423, but Nicholas V returned to the period of fifty years, and held a Jubilee in 1450. The occasion was a fitting one, for peace had just been restored to the Church, after an era of turmoil and conflict. Once again crowds flocked to Rome. They were compared by an eye-witness to a flight of starlings or a swarm of ants. We cannot tell what part Ireland took in the earlier jubilees; but “full fifty” of the old Irish “went to Rome to celebrate the jubilee” (of 1450), “ and seven never more returned “ (Malone, Church History of Ireland). A special feature of this jubilee was the Canonization on Whit Sunday (1450) of St. Bernardine of Siena, “the most popular saint who had for centuries appeared in the Italian peninsula.”

On the 19th December a calamity occurred which cast deep gloom over Rome. A greater crowd than usual had assembled in St. Peter’s to venerate the holy handkerchief or towel of St. Veronica and to receive the Papal Benediction. At about four o’clock in the afternoon, the Pope sent word that the Benediction would not be given that day.

All the people hurried home across the bridge of St. Angelo. On the bridge the crowd met some horses and mules which had taken flight, and a blockade followed. Many of the pilgrims were trampled underfoot or pushed off the bridge into the Tiber. The multitudes from St. Peter’s were still pressing on, ignorant of what was happening, and the catastrophe would have been even more serious had not the bridge been closed and the throng held back. The crush on the bridge continued for an hour, and two hundred persons lost their lives.

In 1470 Paul II decreed that the Jubilee should be held every twenty-five years, and Sixtus IV confirmed this decree, and held a Jubilee in 1475. For this Jubilee extensive preparations were made. “The bridge, which, from its ruinous state, had long been called by the Romans the Ponte Rotto (the broken bridge), was rebuilt from its foundations This restoration was an immense boon, both to the Romans and to the strangers who came for the Jubilee, and Sixtus IV, with a justifiable pride, desired that it should bear the name of Ponte Sisto.” This bridge, which still stands, was very probably the fruit of the disaster in the time of Nicholas V. For centuries the care of Sixtus IV for the Jubilee pilgrims was commemorated by marble tablets, but these memorials have been removed. Ever since 1475, the normal period between Jubilee years has remained twenty-five years, as fixed by Paul II. At this Jubilee Sixtus IV introduced the custom of suspending indulgences during the Holy Year.*

In 1500, Alexander VI, by a special Bull, extended the Jubilee of that year to all Christians outside Rome. It was. thus possible to gain the great indulgence anywhere, but only on condition of contributing towards the expenses of the war against the Turks. This concession of the Jubilee indulgence, without the obligation of visiting Rome, was a development of the privilege first accorded by Boniface IX, in 1340. In connection with the Jubilee of that year, Boniface IX granted a privilege to the people of Cologne, by which they and all visitors to that town could gain all the benefits of the Roman Jubilee by visiting certain churches in Cologne, and by complying with other conditions. This privilege was gradually extended-much to the dissatisfaction of the Roman people- until, as has been said, Alexander VI extended it to the whole world. Thus originated the custom of extending the Jubilee to the entire Catholic world in the year following the Holy Year at Rome. The extension usually lasts for six months, during which the Faithful, wherever they reside (outside of Rome), can gain the Jubilee indulgence by fulfilling the ordinary conditions, namely, Confession, Communion, Prayers for the Pope’s intentions, and Visits to local churches, as directed by the Ordinary. As the conditions may vary somewhat from time to time, the official documents published for each Jubilee should be carefully read in order to ensure one’s gaining the indulgence.

By the year 1500 the Jubilee had developed all the chief features which distinguish it at the present day, and we may regard the task of sketching the development of the Jubilee as complete.

There were, however, details of interest connected with some of the subsequent Jubilee years which are worth recording.

Nowadays indulgences for the dead are not suspended, and the suspension of indulgences for the living is subject to certain exceptions. We .shall explain this more fully further on.

The Jubilee of 1550 is memorable for the great work which St. Philip Neri had started. “Philip’s plan was this-to receive and lodge poor pilgrims when they came to Rome for the Jubilee, or for any other pious motive . . .

The near approach of the Jubilee of 1550 was as a ray of light which led him on to the foundation of that vast and amazing institute of charity which was called the Work of the Pellegrini (pilgrims), and which in the end gave its name to the Confraternity. of S. Salvatore.” It was on 16th August 1548, that Philip Neri-still a layman-began the Confraternity of Pilgrims and of the Convalescent. He began with fifteen persons living in the world. When poor pilgrims came to Rome, they found a home where a welcome awaited them and tender charity supplied their needs. As the fame of the institution spread, the numbers who came increased rapidly, and the membership of the Confraternity increased in proportion. “Princes, priests and even prelates” were eager to share in the good work of serving the poor, under the orders of the zealous layman-Philip Neri. The Confraternity was removed to a larger house-the Trinita dei Pellegrini, where the good work is still carried on.

In 1575 Philip Neri-now a priest, and venerated as a saint, saw thousands of the Jubilee pilgrims relieved daily by his Confraternity, and among those who served them were Bishops, Cardinals; and even Pope Gregory XIII himself. St. Charles Borromeo was one of these servants of the poor, and he also contributed generously towards the expenses of the Confraternity. That these expenses were far from light may be judged from the fact that from the 25th December, 1574, to May, 1575, the Confraternity had sheltered and fed ninety-six thousand .eight hundred and fortyeight pilgrims, and during the year food and lodgings were provided for over one hundred and forty-four thousand pilgrims, exclusive of twenty-one’ thousand during sickness and convalescence. They were provided with all necessaries-some for three days, some for five days, and those who came from beyond the mountains for ten days.

When the Jubilee of 1600 came, Philip Neri had joined the Host of Heaven; he passed to his reward in 1595. But the work he had founded-rather, one of the works-had taken firm root, and its vigorous condition is best understood from the fact that in the course of the Jubilee of 1600, the Confraternity entertained in three days 444,500 pilgrims, besides 25,000 women.

In 1800; for the first time in five centuries, there was no Jubilee. Pius VI, an old man of over eighty years of age, had been brought a prisoner from Rome to Siena, then to Florence, then across the Alps to Valence, where he died on 29th August, 1799. His successor, Pius VII, was not elected till March, 1800, and the times were not propitious. The only ordinary Jubilee between 1775 and 1900 was held in 1825, under Leo XII. Among those who took part in that Jubilee was Giovacchino Vincenzo Pecci, afterwards Leo XIII. When promulgating the Jubilee of 1900, Leo XIII referred to the Jubilee of 1825 as follows:

“We have ourselves seen with our own eyes the fruitful result of the last solemn celebration of the Holy Year. It was in the Pontificate of Leo XII, and we were as yet but in the years of our youth. It was truly a grand sight, to see then the manifestations of religious fervour in Rome. We can remember as if the scene were still before our eyes, the immense concourse of pilgrims, the multitudes who flocked processionally to one or other of the great basilicas, the sacred orators who preached in the public streets, and the most frequented quarters of the city resounding with the Divine praises. The Sovereign Pontiff himself, with a numerous suite of Cardinals and in the sight of all the people, gave a noble example of piety and charity. “

THE EXTRAORDINARY JUBILEE

So far the ordinary Jubilee only has been dealt with. There is another kind of Jubilee-the extraordinary or minor Jubilee. This ‘latter is granted by the Pope in specially serious or solemn circumstances. It is held at the same time in Rome and all over the world. Its duration varies: the conditions for gaining it usually includes a fast and the giving of alms. Otherwise it resembles in its main features the ordinary Jubilee.

Among the extraordinary Jubilees of which we find records is the Jubilee granted by Pius IV, in 1560 to obtain the help of the Holy Ghost for the Council of Trent, which was resuming its labours after an interval of eight years. Sixtus V, on his election to the Holy See in 1585, granted a Jubilee for fifteen days to implore the Divine Assistance in his responsible position. Pope Leo XIII, announced an extraordinary Jubilee in 1881, to obtain from God’s all-powerful mercy help in the troubles of the time, and strength to resist the numerous and powerful enemies of the Church. He appointed the whole of the year 1886 as a year of Jubilee for the whole Church in order to obtain, through the intercession of the Queen of the Most Holy Rosary, special help in the trials which the Church was then experiencing.

Pope Pius XI, by the Bull Auspicantibus, dated 6th January, 1929, proclaimed an extraordinary Jubilee for the whole world from that date to the end of the same year. The reason for this Jubilee was the celebration of the fiftieth anniversary of his ordination to the Priesthood.

THE JUBILEE INDULGENCE

THE JUBILEE indulgence is a solemn plenary indulgence. Like all plenary indulgences, it remits, for those who gain it fully, all the temporal punishment due to sin. It differs from other plenary indulgences, not substantially, but only by reason of (1) the solemnity with which it is promulgated; (2) the privileges which accompany it regarding dispensation from vows, absolution from censures, etc.; (3) the greater hope of actually gaining it fully on account of the extra good works to be performed, and the united effort of the whole Church.

EXTENSION OF FACULTIES

THE JUBILEE indulgence is the chief element of the Holy Year, but it is not the only one. The number of the Roman Penitentiaries is greatly increased, and to them and certain other Confessors in Rome, special faculties are given by which they can:

(1) Absolve penitents from almost all reserved sins and censures.

(2) Commute vows and dispense from them.

(3) Dispense from irregularities and impediments.

(4) Substitute other pious exercises for some of the good works prescribed for the gaining of the Jubilee

Indulgence.

These faculties can be exercised only in favour of those who seriously intend to gain the Jubilee Indulgence. Similar faculties are given to Confessors all over the world for the six months during, which the Jubilee is ordinarily extended.

Can the jubilee Indulgence and other Privileges be gained during the Holy Year without Visiting the Basilicas-in Rome?

From what has been said, it follows that to gain the Jubilee during the (ordinary) Holy Year itself, the visitation of the Basilicas in Rome is essential. There are two exceptions to this rule:

(r) The first exception is in favour of those who, either in Rome or on the way to Rome, are prevented, by illness, death or some other legitimate cause, from completing or even from beginning the visitation of the Basilicas.

Such persons, provided they make a good confession and receive Holy Communion, gain the Jubilee indulgence, just as if they had made all the visits prescribed.

(2) The second exception is in favour of nuns, and others for whom the journey to Rome would be impossible, owing to certain special circumstances.

For the Jubilee of 1933–1934, His Holiness Pope Pius XI has specified, as follows, those to whom this second exception applies:

(a) Cloistered nuns and all religious sisters, including their novices and postulants;

(b) Pious women, girls and others living in institutions for women or in boarding-schools for girls, even though these places are not under the care of religious;

(c) Members of certain monastic Orders of men, such as Trappists and Carthusians;

(d) Prisoners-of-war, or in jails or houses of correction, and those suffering the punishment of exile or deportation

(e) Those who are too sick or too weak to travel to Rome or to perform the visits to the Basilicas those who, either for pay or gratis, attend continuously to the sick in hospitals; those in charge of prisons or houses of correction; workers who earn their living by daily labour and cannot leave their work for long;

(f) Those who have completed their seventieth year. To all these the Pope grants the Jubilee Indulgence just as fully as if they had gone to Rome and visited the Basilicas. . They must, however, during the Holy Year, make a good’ confession, receive Holy Communion, pray for the Pope’s intentions, and perform certain good works in place of the visits to the Roman Basilicas. What these good works. are to be is a question to be decided by the Ordinary of each diocese, either personally or through the Confessors approved by him. The indulgence is gained also by those who have begun to carry out the good works, and die of a dangerous illness. before completing them.

The six classes described above (a to f) can gain the Jubilee Indulgence as often during the Holy Year as they fulfil the conditions. The Confessor to whom they make their confession,, for the purpose of gaining the jubilee, has special faculties. regarding censures, reserved sins and (for nuns) private vows.

SUSPENSION OF FACULTIES

DURING the Holy, Year it is customary to suspend, outside of Rome, some of the faculties given to priests regarding censures,. reserved cases, vows, irregularities and impediments. The reason. for this suspension is to encourage the faithful to visit Rome, where, as we have shown, an abundant supply of confessors, provided with ample faculties, awaits them. The faculties that are not suspended are, however, at present, so extensive that, practically speaking, the limitation of power is not considerable.

SUSPENSION OF INDULGENCES

IT is customary also to suspend indulgences -not all indulgences, however-in order that the faithful may be disposed to concentrate on gaining the Great Indulgence which is offered to them for this limited period.

Pope Sixtus IV, when proclaiming the Jubilee of 1475, introduced this custom by suspending all plenary indulgences only. This regulation remained in force for the next four Jubilees. In 1600 Clement VIII suspended all indulgences. Between 1600 and 1750, certain indulgences were excluded from the suspension, and since the latter year the usage has been uniform, and is as follows:

All the indulgences for the living are suspended, except the following:

(1) Indulgences to be gained at the hour of death;

(2) The indulgence attached to the prayers said when the Angelus bell is rung;

(3) The indulgences for visiting a church in which the Blessed Sacrament is exposed for the Forty Hours Adoration;

(4.) The indulgences for accompanying the Blessed Sacrament when brought to sick persons, or for sending a candle to be carried by another on such an occasion;

(5) The indulgence for visiting the Portiuncula chapel in the church of St. Mary of the Angels, near Assisi;

(6) The indulgences which Cardinals, Apostolic Nuncios, Archbishops and Bishops are accustomed to grant.

To these are to be added, for the Jubilee of 1933–4 (i) the indulgences granted to those visiting the Holy Places of Palestine; and (ii) the plenary indulgence for visiting Lourdes during the year of celebration of the seventy-fifth anniversary of the Apparition of the Immaculate Virgin. (11th February, 1933, to 11th February, 1934.)

Indulgences for the dead are not suspended. Moreover, all the indulgences for the living, which are suspended during the Holy Year, may be gained for the dead, even though at other times they could be gained for the living only.

THE CEREMONIES OF THE JUBILEE

THE ORDINARY Jubilee Year begins on the Christmas Eve immediately preceding the secular year for which it is proclaimed, and ends on the Christmas Eve next following. Thus the Jubilee Year 1925 began on 24th December, 1924, and continued till 24th December, 1925. It is inaugurated with great ceremony, as Our Holy Father Pope Pius XI reminds us in his Bull announcing the Jubilee of 1925. He says that it is customary to refer to the Jubilee Year as”the Holy Year,” because “it is inaugurated, celebrated, and terminated with the most holy rites, and is regarded as being most conducive to promoting sanctity of life.”

The Holy Year begins with the opening of the Porta Santa or Holy Door in each of the four great Roman basilicas, namely, those of St. Peter, St. Paul, St. John Lateran, and St. Mary Major. Each of these has five doors; but, in each basilica, one door of the five is ordinarily closed up with solid masonry, and is opened only during the Holy Year. In St. Peter’s the Holy Door is the one on the extreme right.

The Pope himself performs the ceremony of opening the Holy Door of St. Peter’s. He goes in solemn procession to the Door, all the other doors of the basilica being closed. On arriving before the Holy Door, he strikes it three times with a golden hammer, repeating at each stroke one of the following versicles:

V. Aperite mihi tartar justitiae.

R. Ingressus in eas, confitebor Domino.

V. Introibo in domum tuam, Domine.

R. Adorabo ad templum sanctum tuum in timore tuo.

V. Aperite portas, quia nobiscum Deus.

R. Quia fecit virtutem in Israel.

TRANSLATION

V. Open ye to me the gates of justice.

R. I will go into them and give praise to the Lord.

F. I will come into thy house, O Lord.

R. I will worship towards thy holy temple, in thy fear.

V. Open the gates, for God is with us.

R. Who hath shewn his power in Israel.

Workmen stationed inside the door rapidly remove the masonry, which has been loosened beforehand. The threshold is swept and washed by the Canons. Then, the Pope, cross in hand, again advances to the gate, places himself on his knees, prays for a short time, then rises and intones the Te Deum, to which thousands at once respond, and amid the grand and majestic chorus of voices which in the wide world through can only be heard at St. Peter’s on special festivals, His Holiness advances the first through the gate, followed by his cardinals, and bishops and clergy, secular and regular, and the Jubilee has commenced.”

While the Pope is opening the Holy Door at St. Peter’s, three Cardinals, specially appointed, perform a similar ceremony at the three other basilicas.

“The closing of the Jubilee is equally majestic. On the next Christmas Eve, . . . the Pope goes to close the Holy Gate. He intones the antiphon, Cum jucunditate exibitis, he blesses all the materials that are to be used, himself takes some mortar on a silver trowel, and places the first three stones, one in the centre, the others to the right and left. The Grand Penitentiary places three more, and four Canons of St. Peter’s do the same. Gold and silver medals are enclosed in the wall as memorials; master masons at once finish this work, and the grandest ceremonial of a Pontificate is brought to a close by the Papal Benediction.”

It is not necessary to enter or to leave the Basilicas by the Holy Door when making visits in order to gain the Jubilee Indulgence.

THE JUBILEE OF 1925.

THE MOST RECENT Ordinary Jubilee was that of the year 1925. It was proclaimed on the 29th of May, 1924, the Feast of the Ascension, by the Bull Infinita Dei Misericordia. We give here a translation of the greater part of it:

PROMULGATION OF THE HOLY YEAR OF UNIVERSAL JUBILEE, 1925.

PIUS, BISHOP, SERVANT OF THE SERVANTS OF GOD

To all the Faithful of Christ who shall read these Letters

Health and Apostolic Benediction:

“FOLLOWING THE EXAMPLE given by God’s infinite mercy, the Church, from time to time, provides special occasions and means for disposing men to expiate their sins and amend their lives. These occasions are provided in particular in order to benefit those who through spiritual sloth have neglected the usual means of salvation, and who, so far from considering carefully and with fruit the punishments due for their sins, do not even think of them. The Great Jubilee to be celebrated offers, most opportunely, extraordinary assistance towards a renewal of spiritual energy-for, as you know, it is sometimes called the Holy Year, both because it is inaugurated, celebrated and terminated with the most holy rites, and because it is regarded as being most conducive to promote sanctity of life.

Today, more than ever, it is our duty to remind you, in the words of St. Paul: ‘Behold, now is the acceptable time, behold, now is the day of salvation ‘ when, of all times, there is available so opportune a means of acquiring the treasures of reconciliation and grace. It was assuredly a Divine instinct that led the Church to institute this year of expiation, to be held at intervals. For just as the Church has borrowed with profit other rites from the Old Law, so this Holy Year introduced into Christian life has as its prototype the sabbatical year of the Hebrews. And the great benefits which the Hebrews derived from their divinely-appointed, jubilee were only a foreshadowing of those benefits which are offered to the faithful during the course of the Holy Year. To the former their goods were restored; those of them who had been slaves were sent back to their family as freemen; debtors were forgiven their debts. To the latter, if they comply with the requirements of the Jubilee, merit is restored; they are freed from the slavery of Satan, while their debts, the fruits of sin and vice, are completely wiped out through the most abundant merits of Jesus Christ, the Blessed Virgin Mary, and all the Saints.

“ But the reconciliation of sinners is not the only aim of the Jubilee Year. The graces showered down will exercise a universal influence on leading souls to higher sanctity and repairing human society. For just as individuals, by their lawless deeds, tend to injure the whole community, so do individuals, by their strivings towards better lives, tend to improve the human race and to bind it more closely to Christ Jesus. May the Jubilee hasten that improvement. Although, indeed, Catholicity has recently made no small. progress, and though multitudes realise how foolish it is to hope for better things; and how restless the soul is, if God be abandoned; and seem to desire most keenly religion, yet it remains necessary for peoples and nations to restrain their unbridled and cruel greed, according to the teachings of the Gospel, and for all men to be united by the bond of divine charity. Unless this charity, which the recent war has weakened, nay, even destroyed, unless this charity find once more a place in the hearts of men and in the policies of rulers, it is very difficult to see, how peoples are to be joined in brotherly alliance or how a permanent peace is to be secured. It is scarcely necessary to point out to what an extent the Holy Year can bring about this general reconciliation of peoples.

“What could be more conducive towards uniting men and nations than the assembling of a vast number of pilgrims in Rome-the second native-land of Catholic peoples-where they together meet their common Father, together profess their common faith, together receive the Most Holy Eucharist-the principle of union-and thus acquire that spirit of charity which is the chief mark of Christians? The holy monuments of Rome itself teach us this, and drive home the lesson: We desire that those Churches, which the sad dissension of centuries keeps away, may be united to us in that same spirit of perfect charity. On the occasion of this great Jubilee, nothing could be more truly gratifying to us than to welcome them affectionately back to the one fold of Christ, and if not in a body, at least very many of their members; and to number them amongst our dearest children. That the celebration of the Holy Year may produce fruits so glorious and so desirable is our earnest hope. It would have greatly helped to kindle the piety of all, if we had been permitted to perform the Jubilee solemnities as in times past. To whatever extent they may be deficient, we implore God in his bounty to supply what is lacking out of the riches of His mercy.

Therefore, with full confidence that most abundant advantages will accrue to Catholicity in general, and to the souls redeemed with the Precious Blood of Jesus Christ, and beseeching God, the source and giver of all good, to favour our undertaking, to move men to penance, and to inspire them to profit by this special grace, we, following the example of the Roman Pontiffs, our predecessors, and with the assent of our Venerable Brethren, the Cardinals of the Holy Roman Church, order, with the authority of God Almighty, of the Blessed Apostles Peter and Paul, and with our own, and promulgate, the great and universal Jubilee, to commence in this Holy City at the first vespers of the Nativity of Our Lord of the year One Thousand Nine Hundred and Twenty-Four, and to end at the first vespers of the Nativity of Our Lord of the Year One Thousand Nine Hundred and Twenty-Five.

“During the Holy Year we concede and impart mercifully in Our Lord full indulgence, remission and pardon of sin to all faithful Christians of either sex, who, having made a good Confession and received Holy Communion, shall devoutly visit the Roman Basilicas of St. Peter, St. Paul, St. John Lateran and St. Mary Major at least once a day for twenty days continuously or at intervals, if they reside in Rome, and for ten days, if they come as pilgrims, the days to be reckoned either as natural days or ecclesiastical days . . . and shall pray at each visit for our intentions. You are well aware what the Pope’s intentions are in general; but on this occasion we have in mind something special, for which you will pray in union with us. We mean the restoration of international peace, not so much the peace which is written in documents, as the peace which is engraven on men’s hearts, and which, if not so remote to-day as it was some time ago, still seems further away than we ourselves and men generally would wish. Surely if you all, both inhabitants of Rome and pilgrims, with souls freed from stain and on fire with charity, come to the threshold of the Apostles, and pray for this great blessing, may we not hope that Christ, the Prince of Peace, whose gesture once sufficed to calm the waters of the Sea of Galilee, will now have pity on His people and command the storms, by which Europe has so long been tossed, to subside and be still. It is our desire also that those who reside in Rome or have come thither to gain the Jubilee should earnestly recommend to God’s mercy two other matters which cause us the keenest anxiety and are of the greatest concern to religion-namely, that non-Catholics should hasten to take refuge in the true Church of Christ, and that affairs in Palestine be finally settled in accordance with the rightful and most holy claims of Catholicity.

For those who are prevented by illness, death or other legitimate cause, either in Rome or while actually journeying thither, from beginning or completing the requisite number of days or visits, we mitigate the conditions already laid down to this extent, that such persons, by making a good Confession and receiving Holy Communion, can gain the Jubilee Indulgence, just as if they had actually made the visits to the four Basilicas.

“It only remains for us to invite you all most affectionately to Rome, to enjoy the treasures of the Divine clemency, which your Holy Mother the Church holds out to you. If you were to show yourselves indifferent and slothful in this matter, it would be very unbecoming, in these days especially, when earthly gains are sought with such impetuous avidity that men are blinded to honesty and duty. Remember, besides, the vast number of pilgrims of every rank, who, in years past, came to this fair city during the Holy Year, regardless of the length and hardships of the journey; pilgrims who were not deterred by any difficulties in their zeal for eternal happiness. But should the journey to Rome or the sojourn there cause inconvenience or discomfort, this, if accepted in the spirit of penance, will not only be a help towards meriting a more ample pardon, but will also be compensated for by numerous consolations of every kind. For you are about to visit that city which Jesus Christ the Saviour of men, chose to be the centre of His religion, and the permanent seat of His Vicar; that city, from which the springs of sacred doctrine and heavenly pardon alike flow out to you, inviolate and undefiled. Here the common Father of you all, to whose love you respond, will pray for you, here you have easy access to the ancient catacombs, to the tombs of the Princes of the Apostles, to the relics of the most glorious martyrs; you may enter those temples which have been built in the course of centuries in honour of God and of His Saints, with such grandeur and skill that the world has not ceased, and will not cease, to look on them with awe.

“If you visit these monuments of the Christian religion piously and pray devoutly, you will return to your homes with your faith wonderfully enlivened and your wills disposed towards better things. Your conduct in Rome should not be that of the every-day traveller and visitor; but rather you will avoid all profane occupations, and, filled with the spirit of penance, which is so foreign to the godless spirit of the day, you will exhibit modesty in your countenance, your deportment, and your apparel, thinking of no other thing but the salvation of your souls . . .

“Given at Rome, at St. Peter’s, on the 29th day of the month of May, in the Nineteen Hundred and Twenty-Fourth Year of the Incarnation of the Lord, and the third year of our Pontificate.”

This Bull was solemnly read in public, in the portico of St. Peter’s, by the Dean of the Protonotaries Apostolic on 29th May, 1924, and thus the Jubilee of 1925 was solemnly proclaimed. The Bull proclaiming the Jubilee was followed on the 5th July by a Constitution suspending Indulgences and Faculties during the Holy Year.

On 25th July a Constitution was published granting special faculties to Roman confessors for the Jubilee and on 30th. July the Jubilee Indulgence was extended to nuns and others who, for special reasons set forth in the Constitution, would be unable to make the visits in Rome.

By the Bull Servatoris, dated 25th December, 1925, the Jubilee was extended to the whole world-not for six months only, as had been customary-but for the whole year 1926.

THE JUBILEE OF 1933–1934.

ON CHRISTMAS EVE, 1932, His Holiness Pope Pius XI, in the course of his address to the Cardinals who had assembled to offer him their Christmas greetings and good-wishes for the New Year, proclaimed a Holy Year of Jubilee from the 2nd of April, 1933, to the end of April, 1934, in celebration of the nineteenth centenary of the Redemption of the human race.

The Bull Quod nuper, dated 6th January, 1933, was solemnly published on the 15th of the same month.

The following translation of the Bull appeared in the Standard, to which we are indebted for permission to reprint it.

THE DECLARATION BY OUR MOST HOLY LORD

PIUS XI

BY DIVINE PROVIDENCE

POPE

OF AN EXTRAORDINARY HOLY YEAR AND OF THE GREATEST GENERAL JUBILEE ON THE NINETEENTH CENTENARY

OF THE REDEMPTION OF THE HUMAN RACE

PIUS, BISHOP

SERVANT OF THE SERVANTS OF GOD

TO THE FAITHFUL IN CHRIST THROUGHOUT THE WORLD

WHO SHALL READ THESE PRESENT LETTERS

GREETING AND APOSTOLIC BLESSING!

RECENTLY, at the Feast of the Nativity, We announced, not only to the Sacred College of Cardinals and to all those who were assembled around Us to greet Us, but to the entire Catholic world, a great plan which We are eager to put into execution, when We announced an extraordinary Holy Year and a great Jubilee in honour of the nineteenth centenary of the Redemption of the human race.

Even though it may not be absolutely certain at what exact date in history it occurred, nevertheless this event, or, rather this marvellous succession of divine events is of such significance and importance that it cannot be passed over in silence.

Through this happy commemoration may men be turned -even a little-from the fleeting and earthly things which oppress them so direly to-day, to fix their thoughts on celestial and eternal things; may they lift their souls from the troubles and fears of the present time to the hope of that perpetual beatitude to which Christ Our Lord has called us by shedding His Blood and by giving us immense benefits of every sort.

May they withdraw themselves from the daily tumult of life and “ search their hearts “ during this year to see how much Our Saviour loved us, and with what ardour He delivered us from the servitude of sin. Thus, surely, they will glow with a greater charity and they will be constrained in turn to love Him who has loved them so much.

It is well to recall here, at least briefly, the succession of these divine gifts from which, properly speaking, this civilisation which we enjoy and in which we glory has sprung. First of all, the institution at the Last Supper of the Blessed Eucharist, entrusted to the Apostles who were raised to the priesthood by the words “Do this in commemoration of Me” (Luke xxii. 19; I Cor. xi. 24); the Passion of Jesus Christ, His Crucifixion and Death for the Salvation of mankind; the Virgin Mary appointed, at the foot of her Son’s Cross, Mother of all mankind; then, the glorious Resurrection of Jesus Christ, a condition and a guarantee of our (resurrection); next, the giving to the Apostles of the power to remit sins; the true primacy of jurisdiction given and confirmed to Peter and his successors; and, finally, the Ascension of Our Lord, the Descent of the Holy Ghost, and the prodigious and triumphal evangelical preaching of the Apostles.

What is more holy, dear children? What more worthy of a secular celebration? From these wonderful things, these divine gifts with which the earthly life of Jesus Christ ended, a new life came to us, the true life, and a new era was begun for all the human kind.

Let us recall these great memories, then, with attention, and let us venerate them with ardent love during this Holy Year of reparation. Let us be stimulated to zealous prayer and penance for the faults of each one of us. But let us not offer our prayers and expiation only for our own eternal salvation, but also for that of the entire human race, misled by so many errors, divided by such hatreds and rivalries, torn by so many struggles, and terrorised by such a multitude of fears.

May the most merciful God grant that the Holy Year which We are soon to inaugurate will restore peace to souls, bring to the Holy Church that liberty which is Her due everywhere, and re-establish all peoples in concord and true prosperity.

And since this Jubilee Celebration will commence at the approach of Paschal time and will likewise finish about Paschal time, We think it opportune that the Bishops should exhort their faithful flocks to approach the tribunal of Penance and nourish themselves with the Eucharistic Bread, not only during these Paschal times to satisfy the precept of the Church, but also as often as is piously possible, above all, during the course of the Holy Year; and also that they should exhort them to meditate most intently on the Passion of Our Lord upon Good Friday. May this be the peculiar and most important fruit of this celebration.

And since the full remission of pain, which We are about to accord, can only be gained at Rome during this year of expiation, We desire keenly that you, dear children, will come in great numbers to the Eternal City, the centre of the Catholic faith and the home and seat of the Vicar of Jesus Christ. It is here that the great Relics of the Passion of Our Lord can be venerated, which no one can behold without being stirred by Divine love and moved to a more perfect life. It is here, as you know, that the Table is preserved on which, according to tradition, Our Lord Jesus Christ consecrated the Bread of Angels and gave Himself, hidden under the Eucharistic veils, to His wondering disciples. And here, too, dear children, you have a common Father who awaits you with a lively affection, and who hopes that God will bless yourselves, your goods and your works.

It is very fitting, too, that numerous pilgrimages should go this year to the Holy Places of Palestine, and that the faithful should visit and meditate with the greatest piety on the theatre of these most holy happenings which are to be commemorated. It is also desirable that in this Holy Year the great Relics of the Passion of Our Lord Jesus Christ should be particularly venerated in all the places where they are preserved.

Wherefore, rejoicing in the prospect of these abundant fruits, which We already taste in advance, and offering them to the Father of Mercy; in union with our most venerable Brethren the Cardinals of the Holy Roman Church, by the authority of the omnipotent God, of the blessed Apostles Peter and Paul, and of Ourself, for the Glory of God, the salvation of souls, and the prosperity of the Catholic Church,

We declare and promulgate by These Presents an Extraordinary General Jubilee in this Holy City from the 2nd day of the month of April of this year, to finish on April 2, 1934, according; to the terms of Canon 923; and We desire it to be held declared and promulgated.

During this Holy Year, to all the faithful of either sex who,. having duly confessed and received Holy Communion, shall visit three times, either on the same day or on different days,. the Basilicas of Saint John Lateran, Saint Peter at the Vatican,, Saint Paul Outside the Walls, and Saint Mary Major, and shall pray for Our intention, We mercifully concede and grant in the Lord a Plenary Indulgence from all pain which they ought to suffer for their sins, provided that they shall have obtained remission and pardon for them. It must be mentioned here that the faithful may, after leaving a basilica after a holy visit, enter again immediately to pay the second and the third. visits. We have decided this so that the conditions may be more easily observed.

Dear children, you are certainly not ignorant of the general intentions of the Roman Pontiffs, and We have made sufficiently clear above what Our own intention is on this occasion.

We declare, moreover, that this Jubilee Indulgence may be gained for oneself or for the faithful departed, and as many times as one complies with the conditions imposed.

In order that the prayers said during these holy visits may better excite the attention of the faithful and stir their souls with the memory of the Divine Redemption and, above all, the Passion of Our Lord, We stipulate and prescribe as follows:

Besides the supplications which each one’s piety will prompt him to make to God, the faithful must recite before the altar of the Blessed Sacrament six Our Fathers, six Hail Marys, and six Glorias, one of each of which must be for Our intention; before the Crucifix they must say the Creed three times, and, the ejaculation: “We adore Thee, O Christ, and bless Thee, because by thy Holy Cross Thou hast redeemed the world,” once, or some other prayer of the same nature; before the image of the Mother of God, and reminding themselves of her sorrows, they must say seven Hail Marys, as well as the prayer beginning “Sancta Mater, istud agas,” (from the Stabat Mater), or another of the same nature; and, finally, before the Altar of the Confession, anew and with devotion, they must say the Creed.

The conditions which we have laid down for gaining the Jubilee Indulgence will be modified in favour of those who in Rome or on the way (to Rome) are prevented by sickness or other legitimate cause such as (the approach of) death from commencing or finishing the prescribed visits; provided that they duly receive absolution and Holy Communion they shall gain the Jubilee Indulgence just as if they had visited the four Major Basilicas.

No more remains, dearly beloved children, whether ye dwell in Rome or come as pilgrims from afar, but to exhort you in the Lord to visit on such an appropriate occasion the celebrated Chapel of the Holy Relics of the Passion in the Sessorian Basilica of the Holy Cross of Jerusalem, to climb the Holy Staircase and say the customary prayers and make the usual meditations.

So that these Our Letters may more easily reach the faithful We desire that copies of this document, even printed ones, which shall carry the written signature of a notary, and the seal of an ecclesiastical dignitary shall be regarded as the original itself would be.

No one may alter the terms of this declaration, promulgation and concession of favours, and of this expression of Our will; no one has the right to oppose it. If anyone should dare to attempt it let him know that he will incur the anger of the Omnipotent God, and of the Blessed Apostles, Peter and Paul.

Given in Rome, from Saint Peter’s, this sixth day of January on the Feast of the Epiphany of Our Lord, in the year Nineteen Hundred and Thirty-Three, and the Eleventh of Our Pontificate.

E. CARD. PACELLI, Secretary of State.

FR. A. CARD. FRUHWIRTH,

Chancellor of the Holy Roman Church.

P. CARD. GASPARRI,

Chamberlain of the Holy Roman Church.

JOSEPH WILPERT,

Dean of the College of Protonotaries Apostolic.

DOMINIC JORIO,

Protonotary Apostolic.

On the 30th January, 1933, three Apostolic Constitutions were published, suspending indulgences and faculties, giving extraordinary faculties to confessors in Rome, and providing for nuns and special classes of others prevented from visiting the Basilicas in Rome.

APPENDIX

THE following translation of the Bull Antiquorum of Pope Boniface VIII appeared in The Month for May, 1875: BONIFACE, BISHOP, SERVANT OF THE SERVANTS OF GOD.

FOR A PERPETUAL REMEMBRANCE OF THE THING

According to the story of some old men there is a tradition, that great remissions and indulgences for sins are granted to those who visit the venerable Basilica of the Prince of the Apostles in the city. Wherefore, we, who according to the dignity of our office desire and ought to procure the salvation of each, holding all and each of these remissions to be authentic, do by our Apostolic authority confirm and approve the same, and even renew and sanction them by this our present seal. In order that the Blessed Apostles Peter and Paul may be the more honoured as their Basilicas in this city shall be the more devoutly frequented by the faithful, and that the faithful themselves may feel that they have been replenished by an abundance of spiritual favours in approaching their tombs, we, confiding in the mercy of Almighty God, in the merits and power of these His Apostles, in the counsel of our brethren, and in the plenitude of the Apostolic authority, grant to all those who being truly penitent and confessing their sins, shall reverently visit these Basilicas in the present year 1300, commencing from the festival of the Nativity of Our Lord Jesus Christ, which has just been celebrated, and to all who being truly penitent, and shall confess their sins, and shall approach these Basilicas each succeeding hundredth year, not only a full and copious, but the most full pardon of all their sins. We determine that whosoever wishes to gain these indulgences granted by us, must, if they be inhabitants of Rome, visit these same Basilicas for thirty days in succession or at intervals, and at least once a day; if they be foreigners or strangers they must in like manner visit the Basilicas for fifteen days. Nevertheless, each one will merit more, and will the more efficaciously gain the indulgence as he visits the Basilicas more frequently and more devoutly. Let no man, therefore, dare to infringe or impugn this our rescript of confirmation, approval, renewal, grant and decree. And if any one presumes to assail it, let him know that he will incur the indignation of Almighty God and of the Blessed Apostles Peter and Paul.

Given at St. Peter’s, Rome, February 22nd, 1300, and the third year of our Pontificate.

Nihil Obstat:

Carolus Doyle, S.J.

Censor Theol. Deput.

Imprimi Potest:

@ EDUARDUS,

Archiep. Dublinen.,

Hiberniae Primas

DUBLINI, die 4.° Martii, 1933.

OLD TESTAMENT SERIES No. 3

The House of Jacob

(GENESIS 25, 11–50, 25)

BY FATHER FELIX, O.M.CAP., L.S.S

INDEX

INTRODUCTION

This booklet will study the history of the Old Testament from the death of Abraham until the death of his greatgrandson, Joseph; in other words, the history of Isaac, Jacob, and the twelve sons of the latter who founded the twelve tribes of Israel.

For twenty years Isaac and Rebecca were without children, until at the prayer of Isaac, God granted them twin sons. The first of these twin children is described as “hairy like a skin.” (25, 25)-a phrase which denotes a phenomenon known in science as hypertrychosis or an excessive growth of hair. This condition occasioned his name, Esau, which in Hebrew means veiled or covered. Owing to the peculiar and prophetical circumstances of their birth the second son was called Jacob, a word which in Hebrew means ‘one who holds the heel’ hence a supplanter. And in the event the younger did supplant the elder and secure the right of primogeniture which normally should have gone to Esau, the first born.

ESAU AND JACOB

When these twin sons of Isaac and Rebecca grew up they showed marked differences in character. Esau took to hunting for a livelihood and lived in the open; Jacob was of a quiet, home-loving disposition. Also they divided the affection of their parents, and this had far-reaching results: Isaac loved Esau, because he ate of his hunting: and Rebecca loved Jacob.” (25, 28). This is good psychology. “Predilections often arise from contrasts. The gentle Isaac loved Esau. The energetic Rebecca loved Jacob.”

THE MESS OF POTTAGE

One day Esau returned ravenously hungry after a long period out of doors to find Jacob with a “pottage (or gruel) of lentils.” (25, 34) cooked and ready to be eaten. Esau asked his brother for some of “this red pottage” (25, 30) to ease his hunger. Jacob’s guile showed itself at once, and he justified his name-’supplanter.’ He offered Esau the food provided that the latter would cede his first birthright in return. Esau, weak with hunger, reckoned little of the privilege of the first born for the moment, and offered to barter it for the meal of lentils. Cleverly Jacob required that he make this bargain under oath; thus it would be irrevocable. Again Esau readily complied, and so “for one mess (i.e. meal) sold his first birthright.” (Hebrews 12, 16), little concerned at the time about the folly of his transaction.

ISAAC

Famines were always of frequent occurrence in Palestine because of the uncertain rainfall. On the occasion of one such famine Isaac went to Gerara, the Capital of the Philistines. Here God appeared to Him; forbade him to go into Egypt; and renewed to him the promises which He had made to Abraham.

Isaac had the special protection of God. His flocks and herds increased; his crops were very abundant; he became a wealthy man. This aroused the envy of his Philistine neighbours, and they stopped up all the wells which he used for watering his flocks-wells indeed which his father, Abraham, had sunk. This envy was found even in the Philistine king. He came to Isaac and curtly ordered him to depart, making no secret of his motive for so ordering. Isaac removed to “the torrent of Gerara” (26, 17), but with the same result as before. Then, following the valley of this stream, he finally put himself out of range of the Philistines’ molestation. Later he moved thence to Bersabee where he was favoured with a second revelation and a renewal of the divine promiee of special protection. Here he built an altar, pitched his tent, and made a permanent abode.

After this “the king of the Philistines” with his chief adviser and the leader of his soldiers came to Isaac. For all his former opposition Abimelech had come to recognise that Isaac was specially favoured by God. As such he was not a man to be antagonised, and so the Philistines made a formal alliance with him.

From this point Isaac fills only a small role in this history. He is altogether an insignificant figure in comparison with Abraham, his father; while his masterly and astute wife, Rebecca, seems to have completely controlled the fortunes of the family. He never travelled beyond the boundaries of Palestine, and in Sacred History he plays a pathetic part, exciting sympathy rather than admiration.

The remainder of the Book of Genesis may be divided into the history of Jacob and his twelve sons-the founders of the twelve tribes of Israel (chapters 27–35); the history of Joseph, son of Jacob, in particular (chapters 37–45); the migration to Egypt of Jacob and his family-a real turning point in the history of the Hebrew people. (chapters 46–50).

JACOB-THE SUPPLANTER

Esau and Jacob grew to manhood in time; and the former, at the age of forty, married two wives -Hittite women and heathens, who “offended the mind of Isaac and Rebecca.” (26, 35).

These evil marriages, and his former rashness in ceding his first birthright to Jacob showed plainly that Esau was unworthy to inherit the promises made to Abraham. And yet for all that he retained the affection of his father. Rebecca, however, had her own plans.

In the meantime, with the advance of years, Isaac’s sight failed, and he began to think of death. So when he was now a hundred and thirty seven years old he decided to bestow on Esau the patriarchal blessing by means of which the Messianic inheritance was transmitted. With this in view he ordered Esau to take his weapons of the chase and to procure and prepare a meal of “savoury meat.” (27, 4).

Rebecca overheard him; and she promptly sent Jacob to kill two young goats which she would make into a meal for Isaac, Jacob presenting himself for the patriarchal blessing. Jacob protested that his father, though blind, would yet know him from his brother on account of the smoothness of his skin. But the artful Rebecca provided against this by covering Jacob’s hands and neck with the skins of the kids. Then, dressing him in Esau’s garments, she sent him with the meat to obtain Isaac’s blessing.

HEIR BY GUILE

Jacob entered, bringing the cooked meat; and when Isaac asked who he was, Jacob replied: “I am Esau thy firstborn.” (27, 19). Isaac expressed surprise that he could have procured the meat so quickly; but Jacob parried this by saying: “It was the will of God that what I sought came quickly in my way “ (27, 20). Still suspicious of his identity Isaac summoned him closer and felt his neck and hands. But the goat-skins confused him: “The voice indeed is the voice of Jacob, but the hands are the hands of Esau” (27, 22). Again he enquired if he were Esau; and again Jacob affirmed that he was Esau. Then Isaac ate the meat and drank the wine which Jacob had brought, and he blessed Jacob praying God to prosper him and prophesying that peoples and tribes and “his mother’s children” (27, 29) would be ruled by him.

Jacob had only just left his father when Esau entered prepared to receive the blessing. Isaac now realised that he had been deceived; but it was too late to revoke what was done. Esau, angry and grieved, insisted that he also should receive a blessing. Isaac blessed him, but it was a different blessing from Jacob’s “Far from the fertility of the earth and the dew of heaven will thy blessing be . . .” (27, 39–40), i.e., Esau would live outside the Promised Land of Chanaan in a bleak country; he would live by the sword; he would be subject to Jacob, but in time would free himself from his brother’s power. This prophecy was fulfilled in Esau and his descendants who lived in the barren country of Edom, were later subjects of King David-a descendant of Jacob (2 Kings 8, 14), and eventually shook off the dominion of Israel. When the Messias actually came Herod the Great was king of Palestine (40–4 B.C.). Thus the sceptre had passed from Juda; Esau ruled Jacob.

A LIE OR A MYSTERY?

Here a word must be said on the age-old question: Did Jacob tell a lie? Much ink has been used on it; and it would be well if a glance through the history of this question were taken by those who wrongly think that the discipline of the Catholic Church unreasonably restrains intellectual freedom or cramps one’s style. Origen and St. John Chrysostom admitted that Jacob lied, but sought to justify him in doing so. St. Augustine went into the question at great length, and he gave as his solution that Jacob’s deceit was “not a lie but a mystery”; the goat-skins signified sin and Jacob wearing them was a sign or figure of Christ Who carried not His own, but others’ sins.

This explanation was accepted for centuries; even St. Bonaventure and St. Thomas Aquinas accepted it. Dun Scotus and Nicholas of Lyra called it in doubt; but it was only in the seventeenth century that it met with determined opposition. In the eighteenth century St. Augustine’s theory was almost entirely abandoned. Modern commentators on Genesis almost unanimously assert that Jacob lied.

A lie is speaking contrary to what one thinks whether by words or by signs. In a lie there are three things: the will to speak falsehood; speaking contrary to the judgment in the mind; deceit of one’s neighbour. These three elements are found in Jacob’s action above.

Whether Jacob sinned is a different question. In itself objectively a lie is always and essentially sinful-venially sinful, if it is simply a violation of the truth; gravely sinful, if it involves a violation of justice or of charity in a grave matter. Some would excuse Jacob entirely from formal sin on the ground of ignorance; but this is not feasible. A good case, however, can be made for excusing him from grave (or mortal) sin on the ground that he did not violate justice or charity: Esau had already freely sold his first birthright for the meal of pottage; hence it was only an officious lie, sinful but not mortally sinful.

That deceit and lying are foolish policy as well as being sinful is shown from the subsequent career of Jacob. Esau was so enraged at the events above narrated that he planned to murder Jacob. Rebecca again came to the rescue, and sent Jacob into Haran to her brother, Laban. She won Isaac’s consent to his going by pleading the desirability of Jacob’s taking a wife from among their own people after their sad experience of Esau’s wives. She intended that he should not remain long from home; but in the event Jacob’s exile lasted over twenty years (27, 41–28, 10).

About fifteen miles north of Jerusalem on his way from Bersabee to Haran, Jacob had a consoling vision. In his sleep he saw a ladder which reached from heaven to earth. Angels ascended and descended by this ladder; and the Lord leaning on it spoke to Jacob and renewed the Messianic promises and the promise of His special Divine protection. This ladder was a symbol of the good Providence of God exercised by the ministry of His angels, who bring to heaven the prayers of mankind and to earth God’s graces.

When Jacob awoke in the morning, his mind full of the vision, he took the stone which he had used as a pillow and set it in position as a “title” (28, 18) or monument to commemorate the vision. He consecrated it with oil and he called that place Bethel-”the house of God.” (28, 22).

Arrived in Mesopotamia, Jacob met a group of shepherds at a well, and as he was speaking to these, Rachel, the daughter of Laban and first cousin of Jacob, came with her father’s flocks to the same well. Jacob discovered who she was from the shepherds, went with her to Laban’s house and remained there for a month helping with the care of the flocks. Laban saw that he was a useful man for the work of shepherd, and he introduced the subject of wages for Jacob. Jacob was in love with Rachel, and he promised to work for seven years with Laban if the latter would give him Rachel in marriage. In the East in those times wives were got by giving a sum of money to their parents (the usage is still in vogue in places), and Jacob was yet a poor man: “With my staff I passed over this Jordan.” (32, 10). Laban agreed to this bargain; but when the seven years were ended and the marriage ceremony arranged, in lieu of the beautiful Rachel on whom Jacob had set his heart, Laban substituted her elder sister, Lia, who was blear-eyed, and less favoured with good looks. Jacob was deceived; the supplanter supplanted. Such deceit is possible in eastern countries where the women wear thick veils which cover the whole face. Only on the day after the marriage did Jacob realise that he had been cheated. When he reproached Laban for the deception, the latter pleaded in excuse that it was not the custom of that country to give a younger sister in marriage before an elder, and he proposed that Jacob should marry Rachel also and work with him for a further seven years in return. To this Jacob agreed, and when the festivities of the first marriage were ended, i.e., after a week, Jacob took Rachel as a second wife.

This raises a fresh problem now, namely: Was Jacob’s marriage with Lia a valid marriage at all? No, because an error about the identity of the person with whom marriage is contracted renders the marriage null, since in the contract of matrimony, unlike other contracts, the person is the substantial object of the contract. Moreover such an error makes the marriage null by the law of nature. From the text of Genesis it seems that Jacob either was ignorant of this principle or else (and more probably) that he knew it but did not avail himself of it on account of the inconveniences that would arise from repudiating Lia. So in accepting Laban’s proposal he consented to take Lia to wife also, and thus the marriage became valid from that moment.

THE TWELVE SONS OF JACOB

Lia had four children, sons, whom she named Ruben, Simeon, Levi and Juda. During all this time Rachel was childless; and envy of her sister’s family drove her to resort to a strange expedient, an expedient, however, which was evidently a social institution of those far off times. Rachel gave her female slave, named Bala, to Jacob as a wife of secondary degree, and then adopted as her own the children of Bala-two sons, named Dan and Nephtali.

Lia now followed her sister’s example, and gave her slave, Zelpha, to Jacob in the same way; and from this union there were two sons, Gad and Aser.

Later Lia had two other sons herself-Issachar and Zabulon; and a daughter named Dina. Then Rachel, to her great joy, had a son whom she named Joseph.

At this point Jacob demanded from Laban that he be allowed to return to Chanaan with his family. He had long since completed the seven years for Rachel, and for his wages in the interval it was agreed that he should have all the sheep and goats which were either black or speckled. Jacob did not depart at once. At Laban’s request he remained in his service. But the arrangement about the division of the flocks came into force there and then, and Jacob now had his own flocks. This time Laban was outwitted. Jacob had the Divine protection to prosper him, and it soon came about that his flocks excited first the surprise, and then the envy of Laban and Laban’s sons. Jacob soon sensed the hostility of Laban. Moreover he was ordered in a vision to leave Mesopotamia; so he consulted with Lia and Rachel, who readily consented to go. During Laban’s absence from home at the sheep-shearing season, therefore, Jacob collected his family and goods and flocks, and he had gone three days’ journey before Laban knew of his departure at all. Laban set out in pursuit and overtook him in Galaad; but he was warned by a vision not to injure Jacob, and the hostilities went no further than mutual reproaches-for Jacob’s discourteous departure on the one side, and for Laban’s dishonesty on the other.

Next Jacob sent messengers to Esau who was now a prosperous sheik in Edom, south of the Dead Sea. The messengers brought back news that Esau was coming with four hundred followers to meet Jacob. Alarmed lest his brother might mean vengeance, Jacob implored God’s protection in a very beautiful and humble prayer (32, 9–12). Then he chose out rich presents for Esau.

That night Jacob had a vision: an angel wrestled with him until morning, and Jacob was able to resist him. This signified that if he could prevail against God, much more would he prevail against Esau. In memory of this vision God changed Jacob’s name to Israel (‘God has wrestled’). (32, 38).

In the event Esau was friendly. He accepted the gifts and returned home, leaving Jacob to continue his journey in peace. The latter crossed the Jordan, and came to Salem where he bought a portion of land from the local Hevite owners for a hundred coins. His stay here was short, however. The son of the local sheik raped Dina, and her brothers avenged the crime by the cruel and craftily planned killing of all the men of the tribe. This made it impossible for Jacob to remain; besides the Divine command bade him to move southward. He went on to Bethel, where he had another vision; thence southward again till he came to Hebron.

RACHEL’S DEATH

On this last stage of the journey Rachel died in childbirth at Ephrata (later Bethlehem). The sacred writer notes that it was “in the springtime” (35, 16), which shows how keenly the tragedy of his beloved wife’s death was felt by Jacob, since every little circumstance was remembered and handed down. The dying mother named her child Benoni (‘the son of my pain’); but Jacob changed the name to Benjamin (‘the son of the right hand,’ i.e., of good omen), probably because the other would be a continual reminder of Rachel’s death.

She was buried about half a mile north of Bethlehem, and her tomb is still there.

Jacob proceeded to Hebron and rejoined his parents. He and Esau met again when their father, Isaac, died at the age of a hundred and eighty years.

We now come to the history of Jacob’s twelve sons who founded “the twelve tribes of Israel.” Of outstanding interest among them is Joseph, son of Rachel, although in the inscrutable designs of God’s Providence not he, but Juda inherited the Messianic promises.

Joseph was a favourite with his father both because he was the child of his old age and the child of Rachel, and also because of his keen intelligence, sweet disposition and great virtue. Not so, however, with Joseph’s brothers who were ill-disposed towards him.

When Joseph, at the age of sixteen, was with Dan, Nephtali, Gad, Aser (the sons of Bala and Zelpha) shepherding their father’s flocks he saw them commit “a most wicked crime “ (37, 2) (what it was we are not told), and he reported the fact to Jacob. This roused their anger. To their anger was added envy when they saw that their father favoured him, and dressed him in “a coat of divers colours” (37, 3). Again, Joseph had two dreams with a prophetic message in them. In the first he and his brothers were making sheaves of corn in the harvest field, and his brothers’ sheaves bowed down and worshipped his sheaves. In the second he saw the sun, the moon and eleven stars worship him. Joseph told these dreams to his father and his brothers, and they were quick to interpret the meaning. In the second especially they saw symbolised by the sun, moon and eleven stars Joseph’s father, mother and eleven brothers. His brothers were now fiercely jealous of Joseph.

Some time after these incidents Jacob sent Joseph to visit his brothers who were tending their flocks at a distance. He found them in Dothain-four days’ journey northward from Hebron. When they saw him coming some of their number plotted to kill him. Ruben was not a party to this plot, and when he heard of it he suggested that instead of taking the boy’s life violently they should put him in a disused well which was near, there to die of hunger and exposure. He intended to rescue Joseph later unseen by the others.

Ruben’s suggestion was adopted. They stripped Joseph of his coloured coat, and thrust him into the well. But soon after, Ruben being absent, a caravan of Egyptian traders passed by, and Juda (to spare Joseph’s life) proposed that they should sell him as a slave to these merchants. So they took him from the well and traded him “for twenty pieces of silver.” (37, 28). When Ruben returned to the well to his dismay there was no trace of Joseph.

Next arose the question of explaining to their father what had happened, and they solved it in a cruel and deceitful fashion. They killed a kid of the flock, dipped Joseph’s coat in the blood, and sent the blood-stained garment to Jacob. At once Jacob concluded that a wild beast had killed and devoured his beloved Joseph, and he was inconsolable at the loss of his son. Meantime Joseph was taken to Egypt by the merchants, and sold by them to a certain Putiphar, a courtier of Pharao.

Here the narrative is interrupted to give something of the history of Juda. He married a Chanaanite woman, and their first son, Her, was so wicked that God slew him. Her left no male issue, and following a social custom of the time Onan, his brother, married Thamar, the widow of Her. He also was a bad man, and like his brother he was slain by God for the crime still called after him (38, 10). We are then told of the peculiar circumstances under which was born Phares, the twin son of Juda and Thamar. This Thamar is one of the four women mentioned-three are cited by name-in the genealogy of Our Divine Lord in St. Matthew 1, 3.

JOSEPH IN EGYPT

Joseph was a virtuous man and he had God’s protection. In slavery he rose steadily in the esteem of his master, until before long Putiphar entrusted his house and property to His care: and the Lord blessed the house of the Egyptian for Joseph’s sake, and multiplied all his substance (i.e., property), both at home and in the fields.” (39, 5). There were troubles in store for him, however.

Morals in ancient Egypt were of a low standard, as is well-known from extra-biblical sources. Joseph had inherited no small share of his mother’s good looks; and the wife of Putiphar fell in love with him, and tried to lure him into committing adultery. He steadfastly refused time after time. Then when she saw herself powerless to seduce him her fascination turned into raging enmity, and she accused him unjustly to her husband. Joseph was promptly removed from his high position and committed to prison. But here again his sterling good qualities won for him the favour of the gaoler, and he was placed in charge of the prisoners (39, 23).

We now obtain a glimpse of the arbitrary rule of the kings of ancient Egypt. The chief baker and the chief cupbearer (or butler) of the royal palace offended Pharao, and they were put in the prison where Joseph was in charge. One morning he found them more than usually depressed. Each of them had had a dream the previous night. They could not interpret the meaning of these dreams, and consequently they were annoyed. Joseph, enlightened by God, told them the prophetical meaning of the dreams-for prophetical they were indeed.

The cup-bearer had dreamt that he saw a vine with three branches which sprouted and produced grapes. He took the grapes, pressed the juice from them into Pharao’s special drinking-cup, and gave it to the king to drink. Joseph told him that in three days he would be restored to his former position. The baker dreamed that he was carrying on his head (in Egyptian fashion) three baskets. In the topmost of these were various kinds of cooked food, and the birds of the air were eating out of it. Joseph told him that in three days Pharao would condemn him to be hanged, and the birds of prey would eat his corpse.

After three days came the king’s birthday, and a great feast was held. Such feasts were always a time for revising judgments; and on this occasion, as Joseph had predicted, the baker was condemned to be hanged, while the butler was pardoned and restored.

JOSEPH -”THE STAY OF THE PEOPLE.”

Joseph had asked the cup-bearer to remember him and plead for his release; but the cup-bearer forgot. Two years afterwards an incident occurred which recalled Joseph to his memory. Pharao himself was disturbed by dreams. In one he saw seven fat cattle feeding on the banks of the Nile, and seven lean cattle came up from the river and devoured them. In another he saw a stalk of corn having seven full, ripe ears; and then came seven thin, wasted ears which destroyed the good ones. The official interpreters of the court could make nothing of these dreams. Then the cupbearer told Pharao of Joseph and of his interpretation of the dreams two years earlier.

Joseph was brought to the king, and at once he gave the meaning of these dreams of Pharao which again were prophetical: there would be in Egypt seven years of great abundance, followed by seven years of severe famine. Further, Joseph advised Pharao to take means of dealing with the coming crisis by storing up the extra corn of the abundant years, so that it would be available for “the seven years of scarcity.” (41, 54).

Pharao was much pleased with Joseph. He saw that the young Hebrew had great wisdom, and he appointed Joseph his chief executive officer in the kingdom, gave him the royal signet ring, a robe of silk and a gold chain-signs of his rank; and he commanded all the people to honour him as governor of the country. The king also gave to Joseph an Egyptian name: Safnat Paaneah (41, 45). The translation of this name is most probably’God saith: he is living.’ Contrary to the general usage as found in Egyptian inscriptions with similar names no particular divinity such as Isis or Amon or Ra is named in this title of Joseph, but simply God. This is through “the extreme courtesy of Pharao. Good Hebrew that he was, Joseph did not adore the Egyptian gods, and his new name was a mark of respect for his monotheistic religion.”

Joseph also married Aseneth, daughter of another Putiphar-the pagan priest of Heliopolis (the city of Ra, the sungod); and of this marriage there were two sons, Manasses and Ephraim, of whom later on we hear a great deal.

At once Joseph made preparations for storing the corn of the seven fruitful years, during which “there was so great abundance of wheat that it was equal to the sand of the sea.” (41,49). Then came the lean years, and with a vengeance. Soon the plenty of the fruitful years was consumed, and, famine prevailed everywhere. The people came to the king clamouring for food, and Pharao told them simply: “Go to Joseph.” (41, 55). Joseph sold the wheat which he had stored to the Egyptians; and outsiders quickly began to flock to Egypt “to buy food, and to seek some relief of their want.” (41, 57).

JOSEPH -”PRINCE OF HIS BRETHREN.” (Eccli. 49, 14).

What follows is a most interesting melodrama. The famine was keenly felt in Chanaan, and thither too came the news that wheat was to be got in Egypt. Jacob sent ten of his sons to Egypt to buy wheat, keeping only Benjamin at home. The ten patriarchs went to the governor of Egypt, but did not recognise in him their brother, whom they had sold into slavery twenty years earlier. Joseph, however, knew them; but he acted as though he did not, and spoke to them through an interpreter. He then feigned to think that they were Asiatic spies come to study the weak places of the frontier at the north-east of Egypt. They protested that they had no such intention; that they were ten sons of twelve, of whom the youngest was at home with his father and one was dead. Joseph, to test their truthfulness, forsooth! said that the youngest must be brought. He had them put in prison for three days. Then he kept Simeon as a hostage in Egypt and sent the nine home-Simeon to be released when they would return with Benjamin. They were given the wheat they required, and without their knowledge the money they paid for it was put back in the sacks with the wheat. They returned to Hebron and told all their strange adventure to Jacob, who at once protested that he would never allow Benjamin to go to Egypt (43, 38).

In time, however, famine and dire want forced Jacob to alter his purpose. He sent his sons to Egypt again; and this time Benjamin went, for they dare not go without him. When Joseph saw his brothers he ordered a feast to be prepared, and invited them to share it. This only made them afraid and suspicious, especially since they had no explanation of the money which they had found in their sacks. What if there were underlying all this a plot designed by these cultured Egyptians and calculated to entrap and enslave them-simple, nomad Asiatics! So they first went to Joseph’s steward and explained how they had found the money returned; but he reassured them, and brought Simeon forth from his prison to join them. Next they offered presents to Joseph. He accepted them, and enquired about Jacob their father; but seeing Benjamin, his full brother, he could not keep back his tears. He retired from the audience hall to give free play to his emotion where no one could see him.

The feast was now made ready. Joseph, his Egyptian courtiers and retinue, and his brothers dined in the same room, but at separate tables to satisfy Egyptian religious customs.

The drama did not finish even then. Joseph allowed his brothers to depart without making known to them who he was. He told his steward to put into Benjamin’s sack of wheat his (Joseph’s) silver drinking-cup and also the money which Benjamin had paid for the wheat. Then when the brothers were gone a little way they were pursued by Joseph’s orders and accused of stealing the cup. They protested their innocence, and offered to give up to death him in whose baggage it would be found, the others to go into slavery. To their awful consternation it was found in Benjamin’s sack. They returned in sorry plight. Juda made a most moving appeal to Joseph on behalf of Benjamin: he was the favourite son of his father; his full brother was dead; Jacob would die of grief if this boy were kept in Egypt a slave; Juda himself would willingly remain a slave in his stead rather than return to Chanaan and witness his father’s sorrow . . . (41, 1–34).

Joseph could restrain himself no longer. He commanded all the Egyptians to leave his presence while he revealed to his brothers who he was. They were astounded, but also afraid. Joseph reassured them, and pointed out that God’s Providence had arranged all this to preserve their chosen family. He told them to return home at once and bid their father come to Egypt to settle in Gessen (Hebrew-Goschen) near Joseph. Pharao too was glad to see Joseph’s brothers, and he provided even the means of transport for Jacob and his property.

They returned and told Jacob. The announcement was so startling that for a time he could not believe it. But when they told him all in detail, and showed him the waggons sent by Pharao he was at last convinced: “his spirit revived, and he said: It is enough for me if Joseph my son be yet living: I will go and see him before I die.” (45, 28).

JACOB IN EGYPT

Jacob, now a hundred and thirty years old, gathered all his property (it was mostly in sheep, goats and cattle), and he, with his family to the number of seventy, and their servants and slaves, set out to go to Egypt.

At Bersabee he delayed in order to offer sacrifice to God, and there a vision in the night assured him of the Divine approbation of his journey, and of prosperity in Egypt for him and his tribe.

He did not go directly to Joseph (who was probably at Heliopolis) but to Gessen. From Gessen he sent Juda to apprise Joseph of his arrival. At once Joseph came to meet his father. They both wept for joy, and Jacob expressed well his emotion when he said: “Now shall I die with joy, because I have seen thy face and leave thee alive.” (46, 30).

Joseph brought his father and five of his brothers to present them to the king. Before doing so he told them that when Pharao would question them about their mode of living they should not conceal that they and their ancestors were shepherds. They would then be allowed to settle in the good pasture land of Gessen at the north-east of the Delta near the frontier of Egypt, to live their own lives apart from the people of the country and to retain their own religion and traditions, because “the Egyptians have all shepherds in abomination.” (46, 34).

The king received Jacob well and allowed him and his family to live in Gessen. Meantime the famine increased, and the money of the Egyptians was all expended. They were forced to mortgage their cattle and lands to obtain corn and wheat. Joseph thus enriched the royal treasury and secured to Pharao an annual levy of one-fifth of the produce of the land (47, 26).

JACOB AND JOSEPH

Jacob lived in his new home for seventeen years. When he knew his death to be near he called Joseph to him, and as a last favour asked his son that he should be buried not in Egypt but in the burying place of Abraham at Hebron. Joseph promised on oath that it would be so.

Some time after this Jacob fell into his last illness and word was sent to Joseph, who came bringing his two sons, Manasses and Ephraim. When he was told that Joseph was coming the old patriarch, although weak and dying, was so consoled that “being strengthened he sat on his bed.” (48, 2). He spoke to Joseph of the Divine promise made to him at Bethel that his descendants would possess the country of Chanaan. He adopted as his own the two sons of Joseph. He spoke again of Joseph’s mother, Rachel, and of her death at Ephrata-it was ever a vivid memory to him: “Rachel died from me in the land of Chanaan in the very journey, and it was springtime.” (48, 7). We had that pathetic little detail about the time of the year before, and now it comes with even greater pathos here from the failing patriarch’s dying lips.

Jacob now called Manasses and Ephraim towards him, and thanking God fervently that he had seen Joseph and Joseph’s sons he kissed the two boys affectionately. Joseph stood before his father with Ephraim on his left and Manasses on his right until they should receive Jacob’s blessing. Jacob crossed his hands and placed his right hand on the head of Ephraim (the younger), his left on the head of Manasses. Joseph, thinking that it was an error of his father whose sight was now failed, tried to change his hands. But Jacob persisted. It was no error. Ephraim was to be the greater. And from then Ephraim takes precedence over his elder brother. Jacob blessed them both and prophesied great prosperity for them. Then he spoke to Joseph, foretold that the Divine protection would continue with him to the end, and that his remains too would be brought back to the Promised Land for burial.

Jacob concluded his discourse to Joseph: “ I give thee a portion above thy brethren, which I took out of the hand of the Amorrhite with my sword and bow.” (48, 22). The first part of this sentence is quite clear-Joseph’s two sons obtained each a portion in the division of Chanaan among the tribes of Israel ( Josue 16, 1). But a difficulty arises with regard to the second part, because Jacob was a timid character and there is no record of his prowess with the sword and bow. Joseph’s sons obtained the country about Sichem (later Samaria). There is reference to this in the Gospel: “He (Our Lord) cometh therefore to a city of Samaria, which is called Sichar, near the land which Jacob gave to his son Joseph.” (St. John 4, 5). But Jacob had bought this land in a very peaceable manner as we saw above.

Some (e.g., Fillion) regard this as a prophecy of the future conquest under Josue; and Jewish tradition supports the explanation. Hetzenauer, however, regards it as referring to an unjust reoccupation of the land by the Amorrhites (i.e., Chanaanites) in violation of their contract, and their forcible expulsion by Jacob-incidents not recorded for us by the sacred writer.

JACOB’S DEATH

Jacob now assembled his twelve sons about him, and spoke prophetically of the future of their respective tribes. Ruben, Simeon and Levi had committed grave crimes; and his words to them are full of foreboding. Juda is the privileged one, heir to the Messianic promises: “The sceptre shall not be taken away from Juda, nor a ruler from his thigh (in Hebrew-’ nor a staff from between his feet’) till he comes that is to be sent, and he shall be the expectation of nations (Hebrew-’and to him shall be the obedience of nations’)”-(49, 10).

The prophecies for Zabulon, Issachar, Dan, Gad, Aser, Nephtali refer merely to their places in the Promised Land. On Joseph, however, his dying father lingers lovingly. He has much to say in praise of his past career-glorious alike in adversity and in prosperity, and in promise of a splendid destiny: “The blessings of thy father are strengthened with the blessings of his fathers: until the desire of the everlasting hills should come; may they be upon the head of Joseph, and upon the crown of the Nazarite (i.e., Prince) among his brethren.” (49, 26).

Last in order came Benjamin. The old man was weakening fast, and he spoke briefly of the warlike character of the future tribe of Benjamin “Benjamin a ravenous wolf . . .” (49, 27). Again he asked that he should be buried in the Cave of Machpelah with Abraham and Isaac; then “he drew up his feet upon the bed, and died: and he was gathered to his people.” (49, 32).

Joseph wept copiously for his father. He commanded skilled servants to embalm the body. This was a highly developed art in ancient Egypt, and the process took forty days. In Egyptian fashion seventy days were given over to mourning. Then with Pharao’s sanction Joseph took the mummified body to Chanaan for burial. “A great company” (50, 9) formed the cortege-Joseph, his brothers, their families and slaves, officials of the royal house, the governors of Egypt and a troop of soldiers. Before crossing the Jordan seven days were spent in mourning (in the Hebrew manner); the Egyptians returned, Joseph and the Israelites went on to Chanaan, and Jacob was buried with his fathers in Hebron.

JOSEPH

Joseph’s brothers were ill at ease lest he might take vengeance on them for their misdeeds, now that Jacob was dead. They sent a message to him, therefore, to say that Jacob, before he died, had asked him to forgive their past injustice to him. He nobly pardoned them, reminded them that God’s Providence had brought good from their evil, and promised to protect them in Egypt.

He lived in Egypt to the age of a hundred and ten, and saw his great-grandchildren. Before his death he prophesied that by a special intervention of God the Hebrews would be brought from Egypt and led back to Chanaan. When that time would come his (Joseph’s) remains were to be taken from Egypt also. After his death his body was mummified and buried temporally in Egypt, to he exhumed at the Exodus and finally buried in Sichem near Jacob’s Well. ( Josue 24, 32).

FAITH AND SCIENCE

The narrative of this portion of Genesis is in perfect accord with what we know of the religion, history and social life of ancient Egypt. The seven years of plenty and the seven years of famine are very easily understood of those eastern countries where the produce of the earth is entirely dependent on the rainfall, and where drought means certain famine. Egypt in particular is called by Herodotus “the gift of the Nile,” because the immense fertility of the Delta region is owing to the annual overflow of the Nile; and in those ancient times this overflow was not artificially controlled as now.

Again, there were commercial relations between Egypt and Palestine from 4,000 B.C. on account of the economic conditions of both countries and their nearness one to another. Syria is mountainous with poor soil; but rich in timber and aromatic plants; varied in climate, and therefore, in products. Cedar wood was imported into Egypt to provide boxes for the mummies. Egypt is low-lying, fertile, rich in grain and pasture-later in the time of the Roman Empire it was “the granary of Rome.” This sheds light on the incident of the sale of Joseph into slavery to the caravan of merchants going into Egypt.

Clear evidence also is found of peaceful penetration into the Delta by Asiatic tribes, and the Asiatics were noted for their great facility for adapting themselves to a new country. Jacob is only one of many heads of semi-nomad tribes who acted thus.

Nor was the penetration always peaceful. At one period these Asiatics took over forcibly a portion of the Nile country, and ruled it with their own kings. During the thirteenth Egyptian dynasty the country was weakened politically by internal wars and feuds. Asiatics in thousands swarmed into the country across the unguarded northeastern frontier. In a short time they became rulers (a very natural development), and these rulers are known as the Hyksos kings. At first they destroyed the temples, oppressed the people, established their own worship of their own god, Sutech. They built a new Capital at Avaris, for they had not the whole Delta but only the eastern part; a native Egyptian dynasty ruled at the same time in Thebes. Gradually, however, they accommodated themselves to Egyptian culture, and even appointed Egyptians to administrative posts. In time the native Theban dynasty broke their power, drove them out, and recovered the territory.

All this is in harmony with Joseph’s sudden rise to power in Egypt. It is admitted that the Hyksos were ruling in our period, and naturally an Asiatic would be favoured, so that Joseph would find himself placed above his former master, Putiphar (an Egyptian, from the name). Semitic names in plenty have been found in the tombs and on the monuments of Egypt; and a certain Nehemen in particular, an Asiatic, who attained high rank under Apophis, a Hyksos king, resembles Joseph very closely in his career.

Details such as the many-coloured tunic as a sign of special favour, the gold ring and collar as a sign of high rank in Egypt, have been confirmed from the excavations; while the Egyptian practice of embalming the dead is a commonplace of archaeology.

CONCLUSION

1. Such then in summary is the narrative of the Book of Genesis; and this brings us to the end of the Patriarchal period of Old Testament history. Of the fortunes of Jacob’s family in Egypt the Bible does not tell us; we next hear of them very many years later in Exodus; and in the meantime the tribe of Jacob has become the Hebrew nation.

2. The difference between the divinely inspired early history of the Hebrew people and the early history of other peoples, e.g., Babylon, Egypt, Greece, Rome, is very striking. These latter make of their remote ancestors supermen, and trace back their origin to gods and goddesses. Their primitive history is mythology in which impossible powers and impossible achievements are attributed to human beings. Their gods are less than human; their men are more than human.

It is far otherwise with the Book of Genesis: the Patriarchs are presented always as human. They prophesy; they achieve wonderful things; but always as instruments of the One True God Who speaks and works in them. The honesty of the human writer of Genesis is shown everywhere in his work, but especially when he tells of the failures of these great men (and great men they were indeed), of their sins and crimes. They are intensely human in their joys and sorrows; they are still human in their greatest successes; but they are pathetically human in their weakness and in the fluctuations of fortune resulting from that weakness.

3. The Book of Genesis is of great and perennial interest: “There is nothing more beautiful than Genesis; nothing more useful.” As literature it is rich, varied, sublime. As history it is of supreme value, and every new discovery of scholars bears fresh testimony to its exactitude. As the inspired Word of God it is instructive and elevating and holy. To Dionysius of Halicarnassus is attributed the saying that’History is philosophy by examples.’ This is very true, indeed; and it follows that Sacred History is theology by examples. From the reading of Genesis we learn much of God’s infinite might and majesty, of His mercy and condescension to human weakness. Especially do we see the working of His divinely benevolent Providence, disposing all things wisely, bringing good out of evil as He alone can, and “leading Joseph like a sheep.” (Psalm 79, 2).

Lastly, the frequent mention of the Messianic promises in this first Book of the Bible reminds us of the unity of the whole Bible in its central theme, Jesus Christ: “For the end of the Law is Christ . . .” Romans 10, 4); “ the law was our pedagogue in (in the Greek ‘unto,’ i.e., leading unto) Christ.” (Galatians 3, 24).

Nihil Obstat:

FR. CANICUS A. KILKENNY,

Censor Theologicus Deputatus.

Imprimi Potest:

FR. COLMANUS A DONERAILE, Minister Provincialis. January 17th, 1938.

Nihil Obstat:

RECCAREDUS FLEMING,

Censor Theologicus Deputatus.

Imprimi Potest:

@ EDUARDUS,

Archiep, Dublinen,

Hiberniae Primas. Dublini, 9 die Feb. 1938.

********

The Immaculate Conception

BY REV. LANGTON D.FOX D.D

INDEX

THE doctrine of the Immaculate Conception does not refer to the moment when Our Lady conceived Our Blessed Lord, but to the moment in which she herself was conceived by her mother, St. Anne. Nor does it suggest that Mary’s coming into being was physically in any way an exception to the ordinary laws of nature. What it does tell us is this: that even at that first moment of her conception, by which is meant the very first instant of Our Lady’s existence as a human individual, she was (by God’s favour granted in anticipation of the merits of her Son) preserved from all stain of Original sin. But this is to plunge into the midst of the doctrine. The aim of this pamphlet is rather to see this doctrine (and the justification of it) in its setting, as part of the whole plan of God for our redemption.

GOD

May we, then, start with a word about God? There is no need to say much, but because we are going to use His name so frequently in the paragraphs that follow, particularly when we shall refer to Our Blessed Lady as the Mother of God, it is, I think desirable to say a little.

Briefly then, our reason shows us that there must be, and is, one Supreme Being upon whom everything else entirely depends, even for its very existence. It is this Supreme Being that we call’God.’ As to what God is like, reason, starting from His being the Maker and Supporter of all, and applying the principle that no one can give what he does not possess, can come to the easy but tremendous conclusion that God Himself possesses all the power that we admire in creation, all the beauty and goodness that stirs our hearts to love when we find it in the people and things He holds in existence. It is not difficult to show also that He possesses those qualities without any limitation or shadow of imperfection. He is, then, Beauty and Goodness and Power without limit. This much reason can tell us about Him.

God Himself has told us more. He has told us some facts about His own inner life which reason could never discover, but which also have a bearing on what we are going to say. He has told us that the boundless Purity and Power which is the Godhead belongs to three distinct Persons, Father, Son and Holy Spirit, and belongs to them in such a way that each possesses the whole Godhead fully, and is therefore wholly and fully God: wholly and fully one and the same God. He has also told us (and this is most important for our purpose here), that the Second Person, one of the Three who are truly God, while remaining fully God, has become also a human being. So that in this Person two distinct things, Godhead and manhood, are joined. Both belong to the same Person. That Person is Jesus Christ. He can say, ‘I am God: one and the same God with the Father and the Holy Ghost.’ He, the very same Person, Jesus Christ, can also say, ‘I am a man: I have a human body and a human soul. I was born of a woman.’ For the truth of all this God gives His word.

MARY IS THE MOTHER OF GOD

Let us think about Jesus Christ. He is wholly and fully God: yet He has a human body and soul. That is a fact. It is another fact that He was born of a woman. This is a new fact, for the human body and soul which belong to God the Son might have been produced for Him out of nothing. But that would not have met so well the special purpose of His becoming man. This was to make atonement for the offences of this human race to which you and I belong. In order to make atonement for us, He wanted to become a member of our family, He wanted to be of the same stock as each of us. Therefore He chose to take His origin as a human being from a woman, a descendant of Adam. He chose Mary, the Virgin of Nazareth, to be that woman. It was her tremendous privilege that His human body should be formed from hers: not just in hers, or through hers, but from hers. We must grasp the full force of this. In her relation to Him she is not like an aqueduct, which simply conveys what it does not produce, but like a spring, which itself produces what it offers to the world. He became a man by being conceived in her womb by the overshadowing power of the Most High. Thereafter she contributed to His development and growth all that any mother contributes to the development and growth of her son. After nine months bearing Him in her womb she brought Him forth, and fed Him at her breast. In a word, she is His mother.

She is the Mother of Jesus Christ. And who is He? There is only one Person in Jesus Christ, the Person of God the Son. She is the Mother of God. He whom she wrapped in swaddling clothes is He whose providence even then was ruling the course of the furthest stars. He is God, the all-powerful, the all-beautiful: and she, the Mother of God.

She is Mother of God. We must dwell on that fact. It is all-important. It is no verbal trick. It is the plain consequence of the other fact that her Son is one Person, one of the Three Persons, Each of whom is the one God. She gave Him His body, formed from her own. If He were a human person, she would be the mother of that human person. But this living body of His was never possessed by a human person. From the first moment of its existence it was the body and soul of the Son of God. To repeat just once more the crucial point: there is only one Person in Christ and she is His Mother. Because that Person is God, she is the Mother of God.

That is the literal truth. We have found it contained in the basic doctrines of Christianity. That our analysis of them is correct was guaranteed by the Council of Ephesus which, in the year 431, proclaimed under the safeguard of infallibility, thatthe fact that Mary is Mother of God is part of God’s message to us. This message we are clearly under an obligation to accept. If we did mot, we would be refusing to believe something for which God gives His word. Mary is His mother then. Think what that implies. It means for one thing that the relationship that Mary enjoys with God is that relationship of affection and intimacy which exists between mother and son. All the consequences of that relationship also apply between God and Mary. For one thing, God’s honour is inseparably bound up with hers. The honour or disgrace of a mother inescapably affects her son. If she is honoured, so is he. If she is disgraced, so is he. Mary, then, must be raised to every dignity that befits the Mother of God. Besides, God is wise and just. He never calls anyone to a post in His service without offering them all they need in order to be able to be what He wants them to be, effectively and well. Mary He chose to be His Mother. To her therefore He will have given all the gifts necessary to make her fit to be God’s Mother.

SHE IS SINLESS

What are these splendid gifts, the gifts necessary to make a human creature fit to be the Mother of God? Many of them must be beyond our comprehension. But one is easily understandable, and it is the one that concerns us here. It seems an elementary one: she must be free from sin. It does not seem much to claim for the Mother of God, but we must dwell upon it, for it is directly on our subject. If God makes Mary His Mother, He must make hersinless. Why? Because if a mother’s honour is an honour to her son, and her disgrace is also his, then, were Mary to have incurred even the slightest sin, the slur of it would have passed to her Son. The All-Holy God would have incurred the slur of sin! It is unthinkable! Imagine men being able to point to God-made-man and allege with truth that His Mother had been a sinner! No! His own honour was at stake. It could not be. She must be sinless.

WHAT OF ORIGINAL SIN

Thus far we have not been making distinctions among sins. But now we must make an important distinction: that between what is called ‘Actual’ sin, and what is called ‘Original’ sin. The need for the distinction will appear as we make it. Actual sin is sin in the ordinary sense of the word: any thought, word or action against the law of God. We ourselves are responsible for it by our own personal decision to commit it.

Original sin is the offence which was committed by Adam, the first man, from whom we are all descended. Adam was responsible for this sin as we are responsible for our own Actual sins. We are obviously not responsible for this sin of Adam by reason of any personal decision on our part. But nevertheless we do incur it because we are responsible for it in a different way: by reason of our relationship with Adam as father and head of the human race. He made a decision to displease God. In a way that was his business. In another it was ours, because he was our head. It is because he was our head that we are committed by his decision, committed to a condition which is displeasing to God.

What precisely makes up this condition displeasing to God’? Substantially, the lack of gifts which God intended us to have. It was God’s intention that from the first moment of our existence we should enjoy several splendid gifts quite above the power of human nature to develop for itself. The greatest of them was a gift of a share in God’s own life. But this was to be given us on the condition that the head of our race should use his freedom to acknowledge his dependence upon God. Because he chose to do the opposite we are all born already suffering from the lack of the gifts that God designed for us. This lack, which of itself could evoke only pity from the heart of God, actually evokes displeasure because it is a lack for which, through Adam our head, we are responsible. We lack a share in God’s life because we are the children of one who, at the suggestion of the devil, rebelled against God.

We are like people who are descendants of a man once honoured, favoured and made wealthy by his king, but who find themselves born in poverty and without honour or favour, because their ancestor turned traitor. We are born without the wealth and honour God intended us to have. Nor is our poverty just a misfortune. It is a disgrace. It carries with it the stigma of the crime of which it is the consequence. It is the result of the treacherous conduct of the man from whom we are descended, and although we had no say in what he did, by the laws of human solidarity we cannot escape being involved in what he did.

Now, was Our Lady free from Original sin? On the one hand it would seem to be already established that she was, for we have seen how her vocation demands that she must be without sin. Original sin is sin. As effectively as Actual sin it deprives the soul of the share in God’s own life and happiness which He desires it to have, and the responsibility for the lack is (in however subtle a way) ours. So it is sin. Mary therefore must be ever free of it. But on the other hand Original sin is so very different from Actual sin that before we finally decide that Mary’s sinlessness always excluded Original sin (this is precisely the doctrine of the Immaculate Conception), it is only right that we should carefully examine our reasons for doing so, and make sure that they do apply to Original sin. After all, a person could be said to be (and proved to be) ‘sinless’ in a way if, even though she had once incurred Original sin, she were free from all Actual sin. So let us face the question: Does Mary’s sinlessness mean that she never incurred even Original sin?

THE ARGUMENT FROM HER DESTINY

Does her destiny to be the Mother of God demand the exclusion from her soul of Original sin? It is hard to see how anyone could maintain that it does not, for even Original sin is sin, and is a state displeasing to God. So how could Mary be said to have been made fit to stand in the relationship of Mother to the all-pure God if the devil could claim, and claim truly, that once, even if only for a moment, she had been in the state of Original sin? Admittedly it is not so revolting a thought as the thought of Actual sin in the Mother of God, but surely it is revolting enough to make us sure that God would never have allowed it to be realised. Every mind that has even the vaguest appreciation of the repugnance of God to sin will see at once that God would preserve His Mother from even Original sin. If she incurred it, even for a moment, it would come too blasphemously close to Him. From the first moment of her existence as a human individual, she must have been preserved from it, that is to say, she must have been conceived immaculate.

This is an important stage in our enquiry. We have come to the doctrine of the Immaculate Conception. We have found it simply by putting together and reflecting upon some of the basic truths of God’s revelation to us through Christ. But we must not leave the matter there. The doctrine of our Mother’s complete preservation from Original sin is too important to be left resting upon the basis we have already found it to have. We must see how the truth of our theological reasoning is guaranteed for us by Scripture and Tradition.

SCRIPTURE is made up of the books of the Bible. Of these God is the principal Author, using a human author as His instrument in writing them. It is He therefore who vouches for the truth of what we read there.

TRADITION is the unwritten word of God, taught in every age of Christian history by the Pope and the Bishops, and handed down by them to the age which follows. It originated with Christ and His Holy Spirit, who gave it to the Apostles. At every stage, whether it is a question of its being expounded or handed down, it is under God’s guarantee that no error will be introduced into it. Scripture and Tradition then can be thought of as the storehouses of the information God has been pleased to give us. Let us check our conclusion that Mary never for one moment incurred Original sin, against what is there contained.

TRADITION AND THE IMMACULATE CONCEPTION

As regards Tradition we can settle the whole matter at once by pointing to the declarations of later Popes, and supremely to the definition of the doctrine in 1854. In the official history of the pontificate of Pope Pius IX we read that on the 8thDecember, 1854, in St. Peter’s at Rome, in the presence of a vast gathering of Cardinals and Bishops, the Pope solemnly declared and defined:

‘That the teac hing which says that in the first moment of her conception the most blessed Virgin Mary was, by a unique favour and privilege of God Almighty, in consideration of the merits of Jesus Christ the Saviour of the human race, preserved immune from every stain of Original sin, is revealed by God and therefore must be firmly and constantly believed by all the faithful.’

The wording is plain. ‘In the first moment of her conception,’ that is, in the first moment of her existence as a human individual, she was ‘preserved immune from every stain of Original sin.’ Never for one single moment was she touched by it. And that, so we are assured under the safeguard of Christ’s promise of infallibility, is part of the message entrusted by God to His Church for us to accept because He asserts it. With the whole Catholic world we rejoice and believe. Rome has spoken. The truth of our conclusion is beyond doubt.

It is still, however, fascinating for us (and perhaps helpful to some who suspect that the doctrine is new in itself and not simply in the clarity of its expression), to look back to early Tradition. By early Tradition I mean the doctrine of Christ as it was expounded by the Catholic Bishops of the first six or seven centuries. To estimate what the teaching was in those now remote centuries we accept the evidence of the learned and saintly writers and preachers of that time whose words have come down to us. These men are referred to as the ‘Fathers of the Church,’ and they are universally accepted as witnesses to the Tradition as it was taught in their day.

Of the sinlessness of Mary many of these Fathers speak with lyrical enthusiasm, and as they sing the praises of Mary we see shining through their words their clear conviction that she is immaculate, untainted by any sin whatsoever. They compare her to the Ark of Noe, designed by God to remain safe and unharmed by the flood of sin which overwhelms the rest of mankind. For them, she is like the tower hung about with a thousand shields, unassailable by the enemy: or like the walled garden which nothing can violate, nor any evil spoil. She is the lily among briars; the flawless paradise of innocence planted by God Himself and defended by Him from all the wiles of the serpent; the tree which never suffers the decay of sin; the ever-limpid fount, scaled by the power of the Holy Ghost.

Surely the men who wrote these words believed Mary to have been preserved from every form of sin. The ark is completely safe and unharmed. The tower is simply unassailable. The walled garden nothing can violate. There is no reservation about the purity of the lily. The tree is never decayed, the fount ever-limpid. There is no hint in these passages of an exception such as in all honesty there would have to have been if Mary’s soul was thought to have been besmirched with Original sin.

But if any doubts remain there is another comparison, and it is one to which these saintly and learned writers constantly return. It brings the mind very close to the thought of Original sin and therefore to the expression of any reservation concerning it in connection with the sinlessness of Mary. It is the comparison of Mary with Eve, the first woman. Yet when this comparison is made, not only is no exception from what has been said of Mary’s spotless innocence so much as suggested, but she is declared positively to be like Eve as she was in her innocence, before there was any such thing as Original sin. ‘Mary and Eve were both innocent,’ wrote St. Ephraim, ‘both without guile, for they were made absolutely equal toone another. It was afterwards that one became the cause of death, the other of our life.’ Eve became the cause of death by sharing with Adam the guilt of Original sin. Mary was made ‘absolutely equal’ to her as she was before that sin was ever committed. The conclusion is obvious. Her freedom from sin is a freedom from even Original sin. It is like the innocence of her Divine Son. ‘Thou and Thy Mother alone are in every way entirely beautiful. There is no blemish in Thee, O Lord, nor in Thy Mother any stain.’ Is it possible to doubt that the men who wrote like this and those who received their faith through them were entirely convinced that Mary never for one moment incurred the stain of Original sin?

SCRIPTURE AND THE IMMACULATE CONCEPTION

Turning to Scripture, we find two principal passages to our purpose. The first is called the Proto-evangelion. It consists of the words of God to the devil when he has been convicted of leading the original human pair into sin. He is told (Gen. 3: 15) that as a punishment for his crime, God will set up a state of war between him and the Woman, between her offspring and his. This war will result in a crushing defeat for him. Now who are the Woman and her offspring? On purely scriptural grounds it can be shown to be most probable that they are Mary and her Divine Son. But if we are willing to let the voice of Tradition be heard in the interpretation of Scripture, that probability is turned into reasonable certainty. And we should, of course, listen to Tradition in such a matter. Scripture and Tradition, being the twin storehouses of God’s revelation, are not to be kept rigorously apart. It is manifestly the function of Tradition to tell us which writings make up the Bible, and to assure us that God is its Author. How else should we know? It is also its function to guide us, when need be, in the interpretation of what we read there.

Now Tradition gives us this guidance, that the Fathers who identify the Woman of the Proto-evangelion as Mary the Mother of Christ are sufficiently numerous to make us certain that this is a true interpretation and that it is she who is linked with her Son in hostility to Satan. God’s words then must be applied with their full weight to Mary. But if they are to be always true of Mary, then she mustnever be in Satan’s camp by being in a state displeasing to God, even an inherited state. She must always be free of even Original sin.

God speaks also of the crushing of the serpent’s head. Thus He describes the triumph of the Woman and her Son over the devil. His head is to be crushed. Does that not mean that the triumph over him is to be complete and perfect? It would not be if by her incurring Original sin even for one moment, he could claim the Woman as his victim.

Of course all this turns upon the point that God does mean that the hostility of the Woman towards Satan is to be absolutely perpetual, and that her triumph over him is to be absolute as well. God’s words will certainly bear that sense, and that it is a correct understanding of them is underlined by the fact that He groups the hostility and triumph of the Woman together with the hostility and triumph of Him who is ‘the seed of the Woman,’ Christ Himself. Now His hostility most certainly is absolutely perpetual. His triumph is fully perfect. They manifestly include the total exclusion of Original sin. It is this triumph that Mary shares.

Finally, the occasion of God’s speech and the purpose of it encourage us to give His words their full weight. His purpose in this passage is to pass sentence upon a criminal. It is justifiable to give their fullest weight to the words of any judge when he passes sentence: much more so when it is God who judges. As to the occasion, that further supports us. The effect of our giving full weight to God’s words is to find in them the implication that Mary was ever free of Original sin, and the occasion of His words was precisely that of assigning blame and punishment for having caused Original sin. To speak humanly, it was the occasion when God had Original sin uppermost in His mind. We can, therefore, feel confident that we are not going beyond His intention when we find an implication concerning Original sin in the hostility He foretells between the Woman and the serpent.

In the New Testament there is similar evidence in the form of two titles addressed to Our Lady. It is best to take them together. They are both to be found in the same first chapter of St. Luke (vv. 28 and 42), and they are closely linked in sense. The first comes from the Archangel Gabriel. Speaking as God’s messenger to Mary, he calls her ‘full of grace,’ or ‘perfected in grace.’ This is a unique title: a form of salutation which is never addressed to anyone else in Scripture. What can be implied by addressing it to Mary alone ? Surely that the quality of which it speaks belongs to her in a unique way. This uniqueness of her distinction is emphasised by the other salutation, which comes from her cousin Elizabeth: ‘filled with the Holy Ghost.’ Thus inspired, she hailed Our Lady: ‘Blessed art thou among women.’ Hearing this we gather, as we gathered from the Archangel, that Mary has some blessing that is unique among womankind. What is this blessing? ‘Blessed,’ says Elizabeth. ‘Full of grace,’ says the Archangel. What does it mean? The sacred text offers no explanation.

We turn to Tradition, and at once we are overwhelmed with assurances. It means that Mary is made perfect in that gift of God which is nothing less than a share in the life of God Himself. Mary is made perfect in this. So perfect that Elizabeth goes on, in the spirit of the Proto-evangelion, to link her in her blessedness with her Divine Son Himself. ‘Blessed art thou among women,’ she says, ‘and blessed is the fruit of thy womb.’ And this quality in which she is made perfect, so uniquely perfect as to be associated with the peerless perfection of her Son, is of all qualities that which of its nature is most diametrically opposed to sin. Mary is thus perfect in this. Is she so perfect in it as to be without even Original sin, and that even from the first moment of her existence?

If the words of Scripture are to be given their full weight, yes. Otherwise her perfection would not be complete, nor could Elizabeth, inspired by the Holy Ghost, link it with that of her Divine Son. Nor again would it be unique. Apparently St. John the Baptist, having incurred Original sin, was freed from it even before his birth. God promised his father that he should ‘be filled with the Holy Ghost, even from his mother’s womb.’ If Mary’s privilege then was truly unique, and her perfection truly complete and truly comparable with that of her Son, then it must have been that she never incurred Original sin at all, but was conceived immaculate.

THE ‘DEVELOPMENT’ OF THE DOCTRINE

It remains only to add a word about the history of the Church’s progress from implicit to explicit recognition of Mary’s Immaculate Conception. At the beginning, as soon as God’s message was examined to discover what it contained about Our Blessed Lady, it was generally seen that it implied that she was sinless. The only clear and positive evidence of its being appreciated in the early centuries that her sinlessness was so perfect that it meant the exclusion of even Original sin from her soul is the way in which that sinlessness is compared with that of Eve before the fall. It was left to the Middle Ages to consider the point explicitly. It then happened that a number of learned theologians, and even a few great ones, thought that Mary must have incurred Original sin at least for just the one first moment of her existence. It was possible for this mistake to be made because of the way in which the doctrine had remained hitherto almost entirely implicit in the faith of the Church. The theologians who slipped into the error were preoccupied with the truth that absolutely everybody who is pleasing to God is so only because they have been redeemed by Christ. They came to their false conclusion by making the erroneous deduction that if Our Lady were conceived immaculate she would not have been redeemed by Christ.

To the everlasting glory of our country, it was in England that the faith was vindicated and the fallacious argument against it dissolved. Men like Eadmer of Canterbury, Anselm of Bury St. Edmunds and Osbert of Westminster strenuously defended the doctrine. It was the great Franciscan, Duns Scotus, who in his lectures at Oxford showed that the fact that all are dependent upon the redemption of Christ in no way contradicted the fact of the Immaculate Conception. Our Lady was preserved from Original sin by the merits of her Son, as we are released from it by the same merits. He is her redeemer as well as ours: in fact, more perfectly hers than ours, for she is redeemed more perfectly who is shielded by Him from ever incurring evil, than we who are released by Him from the evil He has permitted us to incur.

The Church rejoiced in the vindication of her faith, and from that day the history of the doctrine has been the history of an ever clearer and more universal realisation, and ever more triumphant assertion that it has always been part of the revelation confided by God to the Universal Church that Mary was conceived immaculate.

O Mary, conceived without sin, pray for us, who have recourse to thee.

********

The Importance of Silence

BY ST. ALPHONSUS DE LIGUORI

INDEX

Note: The importance of Silence cannot be stressed enough in our day of frequent distraction and noise, for God does not speak to us in such things but in silence as ―in a gentle breeze is the Lord heard.‖ (3 Kings 19:12–14).

[Extracted from The True Spouse of Jesus Christ by St. Alphonsus Maria de Liguori, Doctor of the Church]

[Although written for religious sisters the benefit for those living in the world cannot be overstated.]

CHAPTER XVI

SILENCE, SOLITUDE, AND THE PRESENCE OF GOD

[Only the section on Silence is here presented]

CASSIAN says: “The religious prays little who prays only when she is on her knees in the choir or in the cell.” (1) To fulfil the obligations of her state, a religious should keep her soul continually united with God; but to maintain this constant union, continual prayer is necessary. There are three means of acquiring the habit of continual prayer; namely, silence, solitude,and the presence of God. These were the means that the angel suggested to St. Arsenius when he said: “If you wish to be saved, fly into solitude, observe silence, and repose in God by always keeping yourself in his presence.” (2) We shall speak of each of these means separately.

I. SILENCE

In the first place, silence is a great means of acquiring the spirit of prayer, and of disposing the soul to converse continually with God. We rarely find a spiritual soul that speaks much. All souls of prayer are lovers of silence that is called the guardian of innocence, the shield against temptations, and the fountain of prayer. For by silence devotion is preserved, and in silence good thoughts spring up in the soul. St. Bernard says: “Silence and the absence of noise in a certain manner force the soul to think of God and of eternal goods.” (3) Hence, the saints fled to the mountains, to caves, and to deserts, in order to find this silence, and escape the tumults of the world, in which, as was said to Elias, God is not found. (3 Kings, xix. 11) Theodosius the monk observed silence for thirty-five years. St. John the Silent, who gave up his bishopric and became a monk, observed silence for forty-seven years before his death; and all the saints, even they who were not solitaries, have been lovers of silence. Oh, how great the blessings that silence brings to the soul! The prophet says that silence shall cultivate justice in the soul; (Isaias, xxxii. 17) for, on the one hand, it saves us from a multitude of sins by destroying the root of disputes, of detractions, of resentments, and of curiosity; and on the other, it makes us acquire many virtues. How well does the nun practise humility who when others speak listens with modesty and in silence! How well does she practise mortification by not yielding to her inclination or desire to tell a certain anecdote, or to use a witty expression suggested by the conversation! How well does she practise meekness by remaining silent when unjustly censured or offended! Hence the same holy prophet said: In silence and in hope shall be your strength. (Isaias xxx. 15) Your strength shall be in silence and in hope; for by silence we shun the occasions of sin, and by hope we obtain the divine aid to lead a holy life.

But, on the other hand, immense evils flow from speaking too much. In the first place, as devotion is preserved by silence, so it is lost by a multitude of words. However recollected the soul may have been in prayer, if it afterwards indulge in long discourses it will find the mind as distracted and dissipated as if it had not made meditation. Besides, the Holy Ghost tells us that in speaking too much we shall not fail to commit some fault. In the multitude of words they shall not want sin. (Prov, x. 19) While they speak and prolong conversation without necessity, certain persons think that they are not guilty of any defect; but if they carefully examine themselves they will find some fault against modesty, of detraction, of curiosity, or at least of superfluous words. St. Mary Magdalene Pazzi used to say that a religious should speak only through necessity. For religious are bound in a special manner to give an account of idle words, for which, according to our Saviour, all men shall have to render account. But I say unto you, that every idle word that men shall speak, they shall account for it in the day of judgment.” (Matt, xii. 36)

I have used the words to some defect; but when we speak too much we shall find that we have committed a thousand faults. St. James has called the tongue a universal evil: The tongue is . . . a world of iniquity. (James iii.6) For, as a learned author remarks, the greater number of sins arise from speaking or from listening to others. Alas! how many nuns shall we see condemned on the day of judgment, on account of having had but little regard for silence! And what is most to be deplored is, that the religious that dissipates her mind by intercourse with creatures, and by too much speaking, will never be able to see her defects, and thus she will go from bad to worse. A man full of tongue shall not be established in the earth. (Ps, xxxix. 12) The man that speaks too much shall walk without a guide, and therefore he shall fall into a thousand mistakes without the hope of ever perceiving them. Such a religious appears as if unable to live without speaking continually from morning till evening. She wishes to know what happens in the monastery and in the world; she goes about asking questions from all the others, and afterwards says, What evil am I doing? I answer you, dearly beloved sister, put an end to idle talk; endeavor to recollect yourself a little and you will see how many defects you have committed by the multitude of your words.

St. Joseph Calasanctius used to say “that a dissipated religious is a source of joy to the devil.” And justly, for by her dissipation she not only does not attend to her own sanctification, but is also an obstacle to the advancement of others, by going about the monastery in search of some one to converse with her, by speaking in a loud voice in every place, and by a want of reverence, even in the choir and sacristy. St. Ambrose relates that a certain priest, while at prayer, was disturbed by the cries of a multitude of frogs: he commanded them to be silent, and they instantly obeyed. The holy Doctor then took occasion to say: “Shall senseless animals, then, be silent through respect for prayer, and shall men not be silent?” (5) And I add, will religious refuse to practise silence, after having entered the monastery in order to become saints, to observe their Rule, and to maintain holy recollection; or will they perform the office of the devil, by disturbing their sisters who wish to pray, and to be recollected with God? A certain author justly calls such talkative nuns “the home devils of monasteries,” who do great injury to the Community.

According to St. Ignatius of Loyola, to know if there is fervor in a convent, it is enough to ascertain whether silence is observed or violated. A monastery in which the sisters speak continually is an image of hell; for where there is not silence there must be continual disputes, detractions, complaints, particular friendships, and factions. But, on the other hand, a monastery in which the religious love silence is an image of paradise: it excites devotion not only in all who live in it, but also in those who live in the world. It is related by Father Perez, of the Order of Discalced Carmelites, that while a secular he entered one day into a house of the Order, and was so edified and filled with devotion by the silence of the brethren, that he renounced the world and remained in the convent. Father Natalis, of the Society of Jesus, used to say, that to reform a religious house it is enough to establish in it the observance of silence. Because each of the religious would then practise recollection, and would attend to his own advancement. Hence, also, Gerson says that the holy founders of religious Orders have prescribed and earnestly recommended silence to their religious, because they knew how important its observance is for the maintenance of fervor. In his rules for nuns, St. Basil insists, not once, but frequently, on silence. St. Benedict commanded his monks to endeavor to observe continual silence. (6)

And experience shows that in the monastery in which silence is observed, discipline is maintained; and on the other hand, where silence is neglected, but little fervor is found. Hence few religious become saints, because few love silence. In many monasteries the rule of silence is prescribed by the written rules, and is strongly recommended; but some of the religious appear not to know what silence is, and therefore they unhappily live in dissipation, without fervor, and always in trouble. But, dear sister, do not imagine that the negligence of others will excuse or exempt you from the rule of silence. Blessed Clare of Montefalco used to say that in the time of silence it is difficult to speak without committing a fault.

Some one may excuse herself, saying, that it is sometimes necessary to speak in order to get rid of melancholy; but how can the violation of silence free a religious from melancholy? Let us be persuaded that all the creatures on earth or in heaven cannot console us in our afflictions. God alone is the author of consolation; but will he console us at the very time we offend him? But when there is any necessity for speaking in the time of silence, at least ask permission. Another religious does not seek occasions to speak, but as often as they are presented she allows herself to be led into breaches of silence by others who wish to speak. But her condescension will certainly not excuse her from the fault. It is necessary, then, to do violence to yourself, and to go away, or to remain silent, and sometimes by putting the finger on the mouth to make a sign that it is a time of silence.

And even out of the hours of silence endeavor to practise it as much as possible if you wish to keep yourself recollected with God and free from imperfections; for there is no sin more easily committed than sins of tongue. He, says Solomon, that keepeth his mouth keepeth his soul. (Prov, xiii. 3) And St. James says that he who sins not with the tongue is a perfect man: If any man offend not in word, the same is a perfect man. (James, iii. 2) Hence it is the same thing to be a silent religious and a holy religious; for by observing silence she will be punctual to the rules, she will be devoted to prayer, to spiritual reading, and to her visits to the Holy Sacrament. Oh, how dear to God does the religious render herself who loves silence! (7) By silence we learn to consider well what we shall afterwards say. But for a religious who wishes to become a saint, what is the time for silence and the time for speaking? The hours of silence for her are all the hours in which there is no necessity for speaking. The time for speaking is when necessity or charity obliges her to speak. Behold the excellent rule of St. John Chrysostom: “Then only should we speak when it is more useful to speak than to be silent.” (8) Hence the saint gives the following advice: “Either remain silent, or say what is more profitable than silence.” (9) Oh! happy he who at death can say what the monk Pambo said: “That he did not remember to have ever uttered a word which he was sorry for having spoken.” (10) St. Arsenius used to say that he often repented of having spoken, but never of having remained silent. (11) St. Ephrem gave this excellent lesson to religious: “Speak a great deal with God, and little with men.” (12) St. Mary Magdalene de Pazzi used to say the same: “The true servant of Jesus Christ bears all things; she labors much, and speaks little.”

From all that has been said, every religious that wishes to live in union with God may see with what care she should shun the parlor. As the air that is breathed in the choir or in the cell is the most salubrious for religious, so the air of the grates is for them the most pestiferous. And what is the parlor but what St. Mary Magdalene de Pazzi called it, a place of distractions, inquietudes, and of temptations. The Venerable Sister Mary Villani one day compelled the devil, on the part of God, to tell in what part of the monastery he gained most. The tempter answered: I gain in the choir, in the refectory, and in the dormitory: in these places I partly gain, and partly lose. But in the parlor gain all, for the whole place is mine, Hence the Venerable Sister Philippa Cerrina had reason to call the parlor an infected place, in which the contagion of sin is easily caught. St. Bernardine of Sienna relates that a religious in consequence of having heard in the parlor an improper word miserably fell into a grievous sin. Truly happy was the holy virgin St. Fabronia, who afterwards gave her life for the faith at the age of nineteen; she would never allow herself to be seen at the grate by any secular, male or female. St. Teresa appeared after death to one of her spiritual children, and said to her: The religious that wishes to be a great friend of God must be an enemy of the grate.

Would to God that in all monasteries there were grates of perforated iron such as we find in some observant convents! A certain author relates that the Superior of a monastery procured a narrow grate; but the devil, through rage, first bent it, and afterwards sent it rolling through the house. The good Superior placed it, crooked as it was, in the parlor to give the nuns to understand that as the grate was hateful to hell so it was pleasing to God. Oh! what an awful account will the abbess have to give to God who introduces open grates, or who neglects to make the companions attend. In one of her letters St. Teresa wrote this great sentence: “The grates when shut are the gates of heaven; and when open they are the gates of danger” (she did not wish to say hell). And she added: “A monastery of nuns in which there is liberty serves to conduct them to hell rather than to cure their weakness.”

What rapid progress in divine love does the religious make who resolves never to go to the grate! When you, dear sister, go to the parlor, be careful at least to conduct yourself like a religious. In your intercourse with seculars you should not only guard with great care against all affectionate expressions, but should also be very grave and reserved in the parlor. St. Mary Magdalene de Pazzi wished her nuns to be “like the wild deer”-these are her very words. And the Venerable Sister Hyacinth Marescotti used to say: “The courtesy of nuns consists in being discourteous by cutting short all long discourses in the parlor.” This applies, ordinarily speaking, to long discourses even with spiritual persons.

Mother Anne of Jesus, a Discalced Carmelite, said: “A nun acquires more fervor in the choir or in the cell than by the longest conferences in the parlor. Show all respect to directors, but you should treat with them only through necessity; despatch your business with them in a few words.”

Should you ever happen to hear in the parlor an indecent word, go away immediately; or, at least, cast down your eyes, and change the discourse, or give no answer. In a monastery of the Venerable Sister Seraphina de Carpi two women began to speak about a certain marriage: the attendant at the turn heard the voice of Sister Seraphina (who was dead) saying, “Chase away, chase away these women.” And whenever it is in your power, endeavor to change all discourses that savor of the world. St. Frances of Rome received a buffet from an angel because she did not change the conversation of certain ladies who spoke of worldly vanities. You should be still more careful to observe silence with your sisters in the monastery: for the occasion of breaking silence with them is more continual. Hence it is necessary to mortify curiosity. The Abbot John used to say: “Let him who wishes to restrain the tongue shut his ears by mortifying the curiosity of hearing news.” It is also necessary to avoid the conversation of any religious who speaks frequently. It is, moreover, well to fix some time each day during which you will observe silence, remaining alone in your cell or in some solitary place in order to avoid the occasions of speaking.Whenever you have to speak, be careful, in conformity with the advice of the Holy Ghost, Make a balance for thy words, (Ecclus, xxviii. 29) to examine what you ought to say. Make a balance for your words that you may weigh them before you give expression to them. Hence St. Bernard says that “before your words come to the tongue, let them pass twice under the file of examination,” (13) that you may suppress what you should not utter. The same was said by St. Francis de Sales in other words, namely, that to speak without sin every one should keep a lock on his lips, that in opening his mouth to speak he might reflect well on what he wishes to say.

Before speaking you should consider—1. Whether what you intend to say can injure charity, modesty, or exact observance.

2. Examine the motive that impels you to speak; for it sometimes happens that what a person says is good, but her intention is bad; she speaks either to appear spiritual, or to acquire a character for talent.

3. Examine to whom you speak, whether to your Superiors, to companions, or to inferiors: whether in the presence of seculars, or of the postulants, who may perhaps be scandalized at what you say.

4. At recreation, which is the proper time for unbending the mind, speak when the others are silent, but endeavor as often as you can to speak on something that has reference to God. “Let us speak of the Lord Jesus,” says St. Ambrose, “let us always speak of him.” (15) And what other enjoyment should a religious seek than to speak of her most amiable Spouse? He who has an ardent love for another, appears unable to speak of anything but of him. They who speak little of Jesus Christ, show that they have but little love for Jesus Christ. On the other hand, it often happens that good religious, after speaking on divine love, feel more fervor than after mental prayer. At the conversations of the servants of God, says St. Teresa, Jesus Christ is always present. Of this, Father Gisolfo, of the Congregation of the “Pious Workers,” relates a memorable example, in the life of the Venerable Father Anthony de Collelis. He says that Father Constantine Rossi, the Master of novices, saw one day two of his young disciples, F. D. Anthony Torres, and F. D. Philip Orilia, conversing together, and with them a young man of most beautiful aspect. The Master of novices was surprised that two novices, whom he regarded as most exemplary, should speak to a stranger without permission: he therefore asked who was the young man whom he had seen conversing with them. They said there was no one conversing with them. But he afterwards learned that they were speaking of Jesus Christ, and understood that the person whom he saw in their company was our divine Saviour.

Except in the hours of recreation, and other extraordinary occasions, such as in attending the sick or in consoling a sister in tribulation, it is always better to be silent. A religious of the Order of St. Teresa, as we find in the Teresian Chronicles, said that it is better to speak with God than to speak of God. But when obedience or charity obliges you to speak, or to have intercourse with creatures, you must always endeavor to find intervals, for at least repairing the losses caused by the distractions attendant on these external occupations; stealing at least as many little moments as possible to recollect yourself with God; thus following the counsel of the Holy Ghost: Let not the part of a good gift overpass thee. (Ecclus, xiv. 14) Do not allow that particle of time to pass away: give it to God, if you can have no more to give him during the day. But whenever you can abridge the conversation, abridge it under some pretext. A good religious seeks not pretexts, as some do, to prolong conversation, but endeavors to find out some means of shortening it. Let us remember that time is given us not to be spent unprofitably, but to be employed for God, and in acquiring merits for eternity. St. Bernardine of Sienna used to say that a moment of time is of as much value as God, because in each moment we can gain his friendship, or greater degrees of grace.

PRAYER

O my God, may the patience with which Thou hast borne me be forever blessed.

Thou hast given me time to love Thee, and I have spent it in offending and displeasing Thee.

Were I now to die, with what heartfelt pain should I end my life, at the thought of having spent so many years in the world, and of having done nothing.

Lord, I thank Thee for still giving me time to repair my negligence, and so many lost years.

O my Jesus! through the merits of Thy Passion assist me.

I do not wish to live any longer for myself, but only for Thee, and for Thy love.

I know not how much of life remains, whether it is long or short; but were it a hundred or a thousand years, I wish to spend them all in loving and pleasing Thee.

I love Thee, O my Sovereign Good, and I hope to love Thee for eternity.

I do not wish to be ever again ungrateful to Thee.

I will no longer resist Thy love, which has so long called me to be entirely Thine.

Shall I wait till Thou abandon me, and call me no more?

Mary, my mother, assist me, pray for me, and obtain for me perseverance in my resolution to be faithful to God.

Notes referenced in the text:

1 “Perparum orat, quisquis, illo tantum tempore quo genua flectuntur, orare consuevit.”-Collat. 10, c. 14

2 “Si vis salvus esse, fuge, tace et quiesce.”-Vit. Patr.1. 3, n. 190.

3 “Silentium, et a strepitu quies, cogit coelestia meditari.”-Epist. 78

4 “Cave a multiloquio; hoc enim sanctas cogitations extinguit.”-Doctr. 24

5 “Silent igitur paludes; hominess non silebunt?”-De Virgin.1. 3

6 “Omni tempore silentio debent studere monachi.”-Reg. c. 42

7 “Per silentium disci, quod postea proferatur.”

8 “Tunc solum loquendum est, quando plus proficit quam silentium.”-In Ps. cxl

9 “Aut tace, aut dic meliora silentio.”

10 Prac. of perf. p. 2, tr. 2, ch. 8

11 “Me saepe poenituit dixisse, nunquam tacuisse.”-Surius, 19 Jul

12 “Cum Deo, multis; cum hominibus, paucis loquere.”-Encom. in Ps.

13 “Bis ad limam veniant verba, quam semel ad linguam.”-Punct. perf. 7

14 Spec. disc. p. I, c. 31

15 “Loquamur Dominum Jesum, ipsum semper loquamur.”-In Ps. xxxvi.

Edited by Rev. Eugene Grimm, C.SS.R.

Nihil Obstat:

Arthur J. Scanlan, S.T.D., Censor Librorum

Imprimatur:

@ Patritius Cardinalis Hayes, Archiepiscopus Neo-Eboracensis.

1929

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The Incredible Creed of The Jehovah’s Witnesses

BY REV. DR. RUMBLE, M.S.C

INDEX

The Witnesses of Jehovah constitute one of the most vigorous and spectacular religious propagandist bodies of the present day. Throughout the world an army of persistent enthusiasts tramp from door to door, urging people to adopt their teachings as a matter of life and death. They claim to have made over a million converts in recent years, chiefly in America; and they have been written up in the “Saturday Evening Post,” “Collier’s Weekly” and the “Reader’s Digest” as a phenomenon of both national and international importance.

This new sect originated in the U.S.A., to which the world owes Mormonism, Christian Science, Seventh Day Adventists, Father Divine, and so many other strange religious outbreaks. Charles Taze Russell, a draper of Pittsburgh, afterwards known as “Pastor” Russell, was the founder of the movement in 1872. Nathan Homer Knorr, its present head, prefers to say, “We broke in on the history of Jehovah’s Witnesses” in 1872. And that leads us to the question of names.

EVOLUTION OF A NAME

No modern movement, in its efforts to establish itself, save perhaps that of the Communists, can rival the Witnesses of Jehovah in the technique of masquerading under ever-changing titles. Russell began by preaching what he termed the “Millennial Dawn,” and his followers soon became known as “Millennial Dawnists.” Before long, however, Russell had adopted the title, “Zion’s Watch Tower Tract Society.” In 1896 this was changed to “The Watch Tower Bible and Tract Society.” In 1909 he thought the “People’s Pulpit Association” sounded better, the headquarters of which he established at Brooklyn, New York. In 1909 he resumed the title “Watch Tower Bible and Tract Society.” In 1914 the work was being carried on as the “International Bible Students’ Association.”

The same tactics were adopted in the publishing of literature. In 1919 a magazine, “The Golden Age,” appeared. In 1937 this same magazine was appearing as “Consolation.” In 1946 its name was changed to “Awake.” These constant changes compelled those who had refuted the movement under one name to begin all over again; and whilst they were catching up with current fashions, the Russellites were enabled to gain enough recruits to get firmly established. At last came their present and apparently permanent name. In 1931 Judge Rutherford decided that henceforth the “Millennial Dawnists” would be known as the “Witnesses of Jehovah.”

Nathan Knorr now tells us that “Jehovah God is the Founder and Organizer of the Witnesses on this earth,” and that He Himself indicated this as “the appropriate designation of His earthly ministers.” Surely it is strange that Russell himself, the founder of the movement, had no notion of that!” For Russell died in 1916, fifteen years before this discovery was made. And whence came the discovery? In 1931, Judge Rutherford came across the text in Isaiah 43:10, “Ye are my witnesses, saith the Lord.”

That Isaiah the prophet had the Russellites in mind over 700 years before Christ is an absurd supposition for which not an atom of proof exists. Anticipating that difficulty, Nathan Knorr protests, “We have not arbitrarily assumed this Godgiven name.” Why not? “Well, we are witnessing, aren’t we!” is his reply. “What we are doing proves that the name is applicable to us.” But to what are these people witnessing? Certainly not to the truth revealed by God, as we shall see. If merely witnessing, no matter to what one witnesses, makes one a messenger of God, then Communists, who are witnesses par excellence with their world-wide propaganda on behalf of Marxian Socialism, have more right than the Russellites to pretend to a divine commission. But Nathan Knorr just by-passes these difficulties. “God,” he writes, “has always had His witnesses. Abel first; then a long line through from Enoch, Noah, Abraham, Moses, Jeremiah to John the Baptist. Taking pre-eminence over all is Christ ‘the faithful and true Witness,’ Who designated others. “Ye shall be witnesses to Me unto the uttermost parts of the earth.” (Acts 1:8) Jehovah’s Witnesses are merely the last of this long line of God’s earthly servants.”

There is, of course, no proof whatever that the Witnesses of Jehovah have any connection with the previous witnesses mentioned. Moreover, their doctrines are a flagrant contradiction of the teachings of those previous witnesses.

CHARLES TAZE RUSSELL

Charles Taze Russell was born in Pittsburgh, PA in 1852, the son of a draper who later established his business in Allegheny. Charles became an earnest worker in the local Congregational Church, but was soon obsessed with an overwhelming horror of hell and the gloomy prospects of the Calvinist theology of that time held out the mass of humanity. Charles went about chalking up in all kinds of places warnings of hell for unbelievers; and in 1869, at the age of 17, tried to convert an atheist whom he happened to meet. But the atheist destroyed Russell’s own faith, and he became an infidel also. Never again would he believe in hell!

Russell, however, although he had given up attending church, could not leave his Bible alone, and soon he discovered that the could believe in the Bible without believing in hell- for the simple reason, he says, that the Bible does not teach the existence of hell at all.

At the age of 20 he began preaching this “good news,” and with “no hell” as a most attractive plank in his platform, soon gained followers. He sold the draper’s business he had inherited from his father, and in 1878 assumed the title of “Pastor Russell,” founding a new religion of his own. He became a prolific writer, at first borrowing his ideas from the works of J. H. Paton, of Michigan, USA, published under the title of “Day Dawn.” Russell proclaimed these ideas as his own divinely-inspired doctrines, merely substituting the title “Millennial Dawn” for “Day Dawn” to distinguish his system from Paton’s. Later he changed to the less recognizable Studies in the Scriptures.

Russell claimed to have written more explanatory books on the Bible than the combined writings of Paul, John, Arius, Waldo, Wycliffe, and Martin Luther, whom he said to have been the six great messengers of the Church preceding himself. He began, as did the founders of so many other Adventist sects, with the idea that the Second Coming of Christ and the Final Judgment were near at hand; and then ranged over the whole of Sacred Scripture, claiming an infallibility far beyond that claimed by any Pope, as an interpreter of God’s revelation. His followers accepted him as the “Seventh Messenger” or “Angel” referred to in Ezekiel 9, and held that he would rank next after St. Paul in the “gallery of fame” as an exponent of the Gospel of Christ, the Great Master.

Yet, what kind of a man was this Charles Taze Russell? He was certainly an expert at making money, whether in the drapery business until he sold it, or by investments in mines and real estate, or by the selling of his books, and of “miracle wheat.” Unfortunately, he was legally compelled to restore to the purchases the money he had obtained for his miracle wheat, on the score that it had been dishonestly extracted from them. But honesty was not Pastor Russell’s predominant virtue. Under oath in court at Hamilton, Ontario, Canada, in 1913, he declared in support of his claims to be an expert Scripture scholar that he knew Greek. Handed a Greek New Testament, he was forced to admit that he did not know even the Greek alphabet; and that he knew nothing of Hebrew or of Latin, despite his pretensions to a knowledge of those languages also. Not to know such languages is no crime, of course. But to make lying pretensions to a knowledge of them is scarcely in keeping with claims to be a prophet of God; whilst to do so under oath is the still worse sin of perjury. Not less unbecoming in this self-styled prophet was the fact that his wife divorced him in 1897 on charges of adultery with two different women, a stenographer and a housemaid; and that the judge flayed him, after granting the divorce, for his general ill-treatment of his wife. To avoid payment of the alimony ordered by the court, Russell promptly transferred his property, worth over $240,000, to the “Watch Tower Bible” and “Tract Society.”

Russell died on October 31, 1916, in a Santa Fe train near Pampa, TX on his way to Kansas City; and he is now seldom mentioned by the Witnesses of Jehovah. This man, once held by his followers to rank next after St. Paul in the “gallery of fame,” has been practically forgotten by the later generation dominated by his successor.

JUDGE J.F. RUTHERFORD

At the time of Russell’s death there was a man named Joseph Franklin Rutherford serving a prison sentence in Atlanta on a charge of sedition during the first world war then raging.” This man, on his release from prison, took over control of the Russellite organization.

Rutherford was born in 1869, and became a lawyer in 1892. Chosen as attorney for the organization, he was shrewd enough to see its possibilities, and threw in his lot with it. As president, he wished to be known by the impressive title “Judge Rutherford,” though he was never officially appointed as a judge.

His forceful personality set the movement definitely on its feet. He poured out unending books and pamphlets to keep the publishing business going, teaching new doctrines of which Russell had never heard and often quite opposed to what Russell himself had taught. It was he, as we have seen, who devised in 1931 the new title “Witnesses of Jehovah.” The prominence he gave to the slogan, “Millions now living will never die,” brought crowds flocking to hear him wherever he was billed to speak. But, alas, he was not one of the millions fated not to die. On January 8, 1942, Judge Joseph Franklin Rutherford bade goodbye to this world in the palatial villa he had built at San Diego, CA, as an official residence pending the return of the Lord to judge the living and the dead.

NATHAN HOMER KNORR

On Rutherford’s death, Nathan Homer Knorr was elected as president of the Watch Tower Organization. Born in Bethlehem, Pennsylvania in 1905, he was converted to the Russellites at the age of 16 through reading some Watch Tower publications. In 1923, aged 18, he became a full-time preacher on Sundays, working as a packer and shipper at the Brooklyn headquarters on week-days and devoting his evenings to the study of the Bible as interpreted by Russell and Rutherford. In 1932 he became general manager of the Brooklyn publishing offices; in 1934 was elected to the Board of Directors; and in 1942 was chosen as successor of Judge Rutherford, in whose place he still reigns supreme.

“THE NEW CHRISTIANITY”

The Witnesses of Jehovah conceive it to be their first duty to denounce all other religious bodies. Rutherford declared that “religion was introduced into the world by the Devil.” “For more than three years,” he declaimed, “Jesus continued to proclaim the truth and to warn the people against the practice of religion.” “For religion,” declared Rutherford, “dishonors and reproaches the name of Jehovah God, whilst Christianity honors and vindicates the name of Almighty God. This is why true Christians are always persecuted by religionists.”

It is clear from this that Rutherford uses the word religion in a sense all his own. Asked to define it on one occasion, he said, “Religion is any form of worship practiced by creatures in recognition of some real or supposed ‘higher power,’ and which practice finds support or authority only in the teaching handed down by tradition.” That the doctrines of Russell and Rutherford are but the teachings of men, to be handed down amongst the Witnesses of Jehovah by tradition does not seem to have occurred to him!

Asked to define Christianity he replies, “Christianity means the worship of Almighty God in spirit and in truth, in accord with the commands of God and teachings of Jesus Christ. None other are Christians. There is no such thing as “Christian religion,” because religion and Christianity are exactly opposite and diametrically opposed one to the other.” Which, of course, is absurd. Christianity is religion, and is the true religion as opposed to all false religions-including that of the Witnesses of Jehovah, as will be seen in the course of this document.

HATRED OF OTHER CHURCHES

One of the main duties of the Witnesses of Jehovah seems to be to pour out a torrent of abuse against all Christian Churches, particularly against the Catholic Church. This, of course, is not a new trick. Every would-be founder of a new religion has had to commence by denouncing all previous religions, else how justify his new departure at all? In 1860, just 12 years before Russell thought of it, the Seventh Day Adventists had declared that all Churches except that of the Seventh Day Adventists have been deceived by Satan through the agency of the Papacy into the observance of Sunday. All of them constitute “Babylon,” and are rejected by God. But this is particularly true of the Catholic Church, presided over by “Antichrist” or the “Beast” in the person of the Pope.

Following this same line, Russell had said that, in 1878, God had rejected all existing Churches, constituting the Russellites as His only spokesmen thenceforward. But Rutherford did not like the implied admission that the Churches were all right till Russell appeared on the scene. He declared that, fter the resurrection of Christ, the Devil at once set to work and built a great empire, the Papacy. Later, the Devil inspired the creation of various Protestant Churches-all of them, including even the Seventh Day Adventists.

All priests and all Protestant clergymen are of the Devil, said Rutherford. They are enemies of God, and are simply “Antichrist.” Nathan Knorr tells us that “by 1881 growing differences in basic beliefs had created an immense chasm between the Witnesses and the orthodox Churches.” The “growing” differences were due to the Russellites inventing new and unheard-of doctrines manufactured by themselves during the period from 1878 to 1881.

If, however, all Churches are to branded as evil, what of the Witnesses themselves? They meet this difficulty by denying that they are a “Church” or a “Denomination.” They say they can find no justification for a “Church” or a “Hierarchy” of any kind in the Bible. That will impress nobody who has any real knowledge and understanding of the contents of the Bible. For much is there which the Witnesses of Jehovah say they cannot find, whilst much that they claim to find there is not there at all. But let us see what they have to say of themselves. They claim to be but the precursors sent by God to warn men of a “Theocratic Kingdom” at present in the making. And they alone, of all men in this world, belong to that Theocratic Kingdom.

CIVIC DISLOYALTY

Insisting that they owe their sole loyalty to this Theocratic Kingdom, Witnesses of Jehovah refuse the duties of earthly citizenship. The world, they say, is divided into tow opposed groups, that of the “Theocratic Kingdom,” and that of “Satan’s Organization.” “Satan’s Organization” includes all Churches and Governments. And just as amongst the Churches the Papacy is the “Beast” par excellence, so amongst the nations are America and Great Britain.

“In the formation of the Hague World Court of the League of Nations,” wrote Judge Rutherford, “Great Britain and America took the lead, and this is proof that the Anglo-American Empire is the two-horned beast.” (Light, Vol. II, p. 98) The “British Israelites” won’t like that, for they claim to have proved from the Bible that Britain and America form between them the chosen people of God! But we can leave the British Israelites and the Witnesses of Jehovah to settle that matter between themselves.

In the meantime, consistently with their false principles, the Witnesses refuse to salute the flag of any earthly nation, are conscientious objectors to all forms of military service, and say they will fight only for Jehovah and His people- which means for their own opinions against all who oppose them.

As a consequence of their refusal to fulfill the New Testament admonition, “Be ye subject, therefore, to every human creature for God’s sake; whether to the king as excelling, or to governors sent by him. Fear God. Honor the king” (1st Peter 2:13–17), many Witnesses of Jehovah have been fined or jailed, whilst in Australia and New Zealand during 1940 their organization was declared illegal.

The New Zealand Attorney-General said at the time that they were devoting themselves to “vilification of religion, of their fellow-citizens, of the State and of the Government.”

PERSECUTION COMPLEX

The Witnesses complain that they are persecuted for their religious beliefs, quite inconsistently with their denial that their system constitutes a religion. But in any case their complaint is unjustified. Small sects get into trouble only when their practices transgress common decency. If the Witnesses are constantly running afoul of their communities, it is because they themselves make vile and insulting onslaughts on the religion of others, and delight in utterances of the most outrageous civic disloyalty.

“For conscientious cussedness on the grand scale,” wrote America’s Saturday Evening Post, when dealing with this subject, “no other aggregation of Americans is a match for Jehovah’s Witnesses. Defiance of what others cherish is their daily meat. They hate all religions-and say so from the house-tops. They hate all Governments with an enthusiasm that is equally unconcealed. . . . For being generally offensive they have been getting their heads cracked, their meetings broken up, their meeting-houses pillaged and themselves thrown in jail.

Nathan Knorr argues that the persistence of the Witnesses in spite of severest persecution, mobbings, beatings, tar and feather outrages, imprisonment and even death, is nothing less than miraculous and a sure proof of their divine mission. That the fanaticism and obstinacy by which he himself would explain the reckless zeal of Mahomet’s followers could apply to the Witnesses themselves does not seem to have occurred to him. Certainly the same inducements have been held out to them, a deadly fear of a greater evil happening to them should they quail before lesser fears, and magnificent promises of temporal rewards should they die in the cause of the prophets Russell and Rutherford!

A RELIGIOUS ORGANIZATION

Strangely at variance with their denunciation of all “organized religion,” “Churches,” “hierarchies” and “clergy,” is their own formation of a highly organized and hierarchal religious society by the Witnesses of Jehovah!

Nathan Knorr, in his official contribution to “Religion in the Twentieth Century,” begins the exposition of his system by asserting that no man is leader of Jehovah’s Witnesses, since “Jehovah God has appointed Christ Jesus as their Leader and commander.” But he declares that Christ directs affairs through a “visible organization” with headquarters in Brooklyn, New York, USA.

The visible head on earth of this visible organization is Nathan Knorr himself. He is surrounded by a Board of Directors, as the Pope is surrounded by a College of Cardinals. Throughout the world there are local congregations called “Companies,” which meet in “Kingdom Halls.” But each “Company” has “organizational servants” to oversee all activities. Full time field-workers, aided financially by the Society, are called “Pioneers,” and there are over 6500 of these. Every active Witness of Jehovah, however, is regarded as “a minister ordained and commissioned by God, not by man,” and must go from house to house selling books in the territory assigned to him by his superior officers. But if all are ordained, consecrated and commissioned by God, what is this but a hierarchy or an organized sacred body of men with a divinely-given and graded authority? And how can Witnesses of Jehovah pour scorn on religion and on the clergy of other Churches, yet claim exemption from military service on the plea that they are all “ministers of religion,” as they do? As for “organized religion,” no Church has a more concentrated government than they. The Year Book for 1940, page 47, lays down the law:

“Every thirty days each and every branch office in operation on the earth . . . makes a report in writing to the president of the Society, setting forth in detail the work accomplished during the month. At the end of the fiscal year all branch office . . . will submit to the president in writing a report covering the activities of the Society during the year.

BIG BUSINESS

Mention of the “fiscal year” leads to a consideration of the organization’s business activities. The attack on “organized religion” comes badly from one of the most highly organized religious societies in the world. In the same way, never was there such a religious racket as that of the Watch Tower Bible and Tract Society, which declares all other Churches to be “rackets,” engaged in “big business.” Pastor Russell founded that Society as a worldwide publishing and distributing agency for his own writings; and Judge Rutherford kept it going for the same purpose. It has become a great moneymaking concern. The publishing house at Brooklyn pours out an amazing stream of books, pamphlets and periodicals. Since World War I, they have distributed more than 485 millions of these in over 80 different languages.

Judge Rutherford said that these books and pamphlets are sold at “a little more than cost price,” and that the “negligible profits” go to the International Bible Students’ Association. At an average of a penny profit per sale, over two million pounds would have been raked in. As the average profit would be fourpence or even perhaps sixpence, 10 million pounds profit over the period mentioned would be nearer the mark. Wisely, the Year Book says that no financial statements are published, as enemies would use them “to hinder the work of the Society.”

One thing is certain. Despite its vast income, the Society devotes none of its resources to any public works of charity. Challenged at the American Radio Commission’s inquiry, Secretary Goux, of the Russellites, admitted that their New York property alone was worth over a million dollars, and that he could not say how much the general holdings of the Corporation were worth. When Mr. Sirovich, assisting the Commission, asked, “Outside of preaching, have you done anything for the poor devils who find themselves economically deprived of a living, and in starvation and hunger, or penury and want? Have you taken any of that money to help them?” Goux replied, “That is not the purpose of this activity. That is not the purpose of this Association. The commission entrusted to Jehovah’s Witnesses is to bear testimony among the people.

Bearing this testimony, which means distributing Rutherford’s booklets, are 22,304 travelling salesmen called “Publishers,” going from house to house in their assigned districts. These people, for the most part, work for nothing, being engaged during the week in ordinary secular employment and devoting all their free time to “field service.” Nathan Knorr explains, “Sincere persons, converted by literature, engage in the work of distribution.

New converts, on becoming active workers, are given a card of identification to show they are recognized as “ministers of God.” It’s a psychological phenomenon that so many credulous people can be so duped and conditioned into becoming voluntary agents in such an enterprise. But nothing succeeds like success. In 1919, at Cedar Point, Ohio, USA, 8000 Witnesses met in Convention and “girded themselves for publishing work.” At the same place, 1921, 20,000 Witnesses acclaimed the slogan, “Advertise, Advertise, Advertise the King and the Kingdom.” In more prosaic words that meant, “Propagate Rutherford’s teachings and sell his books.” In 1946, at Cleveland, Ohio, USA, 80,000 Witnesses were filled with similar enthusiasm.

In all this, the Watch Tower Bible and Tract Society never stands to lose.

Voluntary distributors pay for the books they receive; and if they give them away, do so at their own expense. Many such distributors return, not only the full price of the books, but additional donations from their own earnings in their secular jobs.

A further technical factor contributing to wide sales is that, as the books are offered for a “donation,” and not “sold,” no hawker’s license is necessary, sales are not taxable, and business may be done on Sundays. It has all been very shrewdly devised.

Of course people have first to be converted to the new religion before they will work for it with such devotedness; and the religion to which they have been converted we must now examine more closely.

“BIBLE-CHRISTIANS”

The Witnesses of Jehovah claim to be “Bible-Christians.” Nathan Knorr tells us that “the Bible is God’s inspired Word, handed down for those now living in the last days.” How he knows it to be God’s Word, who handed it down, and why it is for those now living in the “last days” any more than for those who lived in previous ages, are subjects he prefers not to discuss. All he says is that Charles Taze Russell found “no Christian denomination teaching what the Bible contains,” and therefore “began a thorough study of the Bible, particularly concerning Christ’s Second Coming and Millennial Reign.”

Unfortunately, Pastor Russell, inspired by God if we can believe his first followers, does not seem to have been very successful. After his death in 1916, Judge Rutherford took over and promptly began to teach doctrines very different from those of Russell. Internal dissension in the movement followed. But, writes Nathan Knorr, “Rutherford and the Directors were overwhelmingly supported. The beaten and disgruntled opposition force withdrew and set up an independent organization,” splitting up “into many little groups of no consequence.”

Judge Rutherford, then, remains the supreme prophet of the movement, and his interpretations of the Bible have become the Witness dogmas. Whilst the Witnesses say that they rely on what the Bible says, they rely on what Judge Rutherford tells them it says. To the Broadcasting Commission of 1934 Secretary Goux said, on behalf of the organization, that Rutherford’s explanations of the Bible are not human opinions, but inspired by God. Papal claims to infallibility are indeed mild in comparison with that!

In his explanations of the Bible, Rutherford followed no accepted principles of interpretation, whilst of critical scholarship he knew absolutely nothing. To support his theories he took any text he pleased, almost at random, and made it mean whatever he wished!

Still, his disciples insist that they are “Bible-Christians.” They say that, whilst they do not believe in the “Christian Religion,” they do believe in “Christianity.” They have a way of speaking all their own, which is very difficult to follow; but it will be enough to show that their system contradicts almost every basic Christian teaching.

“JEHOVAH GOD”

One of the first peculiarities met with in this new religion is the strange use of the expression “Jehovah God.” Nathan Knorr complains that “the masses of Christendom do not even appreciate the fact that “Jehovah” is God’s name.” But God certainly has not got a name to distinguish Him from other “gods,” as Nathan Knorr himself is distinguished by his first name from others with the same surname! Nor is even the word “Jehovah” truly Biblical. The original authors of the Sacred Book knew nothing of it. They wrote in Hebrew the word Yahweh, which meant literally He who is. Yahweh, therefore, was an alternative name for God, not a kind of “Christian name” to identify God from among other divinities. “Jehovah God” is an expression found nowhere in the Bible, and is a combination of words grotesque in the extreme.

Again, Judge Rutherford tells us in his book, “Reconciliation,” that the “constellation of the seven stars forming the Pleiades is the place of the eternal throne of God—the dwelling place of Jehovah.” What kind of a God is Rutherford’s who dwells on a star? And how can the Pleiades, themselves not eternal, constitute the eternal throne?

The Christian doctrine of the Trinity Rutherford categorically denies. “Never was there a more deceptive doctrine advanced” he writes, “than that of the Trinity. It could have originated only in one mind, and that the mind of Satan the Devil.” “Reconciliation,” (p. 101). That Christ Himself commissioned His followers to “baptize in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost” carries no weight with Rutherford and his disciples. They have abandoned Christianity for Unitarianism. Christ for them is not the Eternal Son of God, nor is the Holy Spirit a Divine Person. Rutherford says that the Holy Spirit is any power or influence exercised by God. But Christ spoke of the Holy Spirit as Personal. “The Holy Ghost,” He said, “whom the Father will send in My name, He will teach you all things.” (John 16:26)

But let us look al little more closely at Rutherford’s doctrine about Christ.

CHRIST

One of the most vital questions in the Gospels is, “What think you of Christ? Whose son is he?” (Matthew 22:42) Christians have ever replied to that with the unhesitating proclamation of faith, “Son of the Living God.” But not so the Witnesses of Jehovah.

These Witnesses agree that Christ existed before He was born into this world, but say that He was himself only a creature—the first creature made by God and used as an instrument for the creation of all else. Russell tells us that he was “Michael the Archangel”! When, millennia after his creation, this creature became man, his nature was completely changed from angelic and spiritual to material and human. “In obedience to God, he gave up his spirit-being and was born of Mary as a wholly-human being.” Apparently that was the end of Michael the Archangel, a fact St. John unfortunately forgot when writing his Apocalypse, for there he has Michael still existing side by side with the Christ into whom Russell declared him to have been transformed!

But let us go on. When Christ died on the Cross, according to the Witnesses, he was merely a man, and his death was the end of him; completely and absolutely the end. But a “spirit-being” emerged from the tomb to become “a” god, not “the” God; which apparently was better than being merely Michael the Archangel who had existed in the first place.

This doctrine that Christ was three successive and independent beings: Michael the Archangel, the man Jesus, and the semi-divine king of the new world, is certainly not the Christian doctrine, whatever else it may be. Most intelligent people will rightly estimate it as fantastic nonsense.

And what becomes of the basic fact in the Christian religion -the resurrection of Christ? “If Christ be not risen,” says St. Paul, “then is your faith in vain.” (1st Corinthians 15:17) The Witnesses of Jehovah deny that he is risen. “The man Christ,” they say, “is dead forever.” “The Person who died,” Russell tells us, “remained dead, and he will never be seen again in his human nature.”

What became of his body? Russell says that no one knows. He suggests that possibly it was dissolved into gases, or super-naturally removed by God to be preserved until He chooses to produce it as a grand memorial or trophy of Christ’s work. But it will be only a material corpse.

But we are told not to worry. If Christ is not risen in the long-accepted Christian sense of the word, he was raised a “spirit-being,” receiving immortality and divinity as a gift from God. It is all very baffling. If the “person who died remained dead,” who was the person receiving immortality and divinity? If God created a new being to enjoy those privileges, then that new being wasn’t Christ but somebody else! Yet Russell goes on to say that Christ, despite his remaining dead, returned to his disciples after the resurrection in separate “body-appearances” specially created for each occasion!

At the ascension, Russell tells us that Jesus, no longer human, was exalted as a “spirit-being” to the divine nature; and that he remains an invisible spirit, having no longer any connection with our human nature. But if “the person who died remained dead,” Jesus is not merely no longer human-he is no longer in existence! Russell may be able to think in such queer ways, but he has no right to pretend that he is giving to his followers anything like the genuine New Testament doctrine.

“THE SECOND COMING”

Let us turn now to what is really the starting-point of the Russellite system.

It is not without significance that it begins at the end and works backways from that, instead of attempting to follow divine revelation in the order in which God gave it. For Russell, as we have seen, began by concentrating on Christ’s Second Coming and His “Millennial Reign.” A theory having been decided upon in that regard, all else had to be distorted to fit in with it.

Russell took over from the Adventists the idea that the end of the world was very near at hand. By a mysterious process of mathematical calculation from the prophecies, he “discovered” that the Second Coming of Christ actually took place in 1874. If people had not the slightest idea of this, it was because they had been led astray by Acts 1:11: “This Jesus who is taken up from you into heaven shall so come, as you have seen Him going.” Russell says that the Apostles did not see Him going, for He went invisibly as a spirit. And, in 1874, He returned invisibly as a spirit. But not yet to this earth. He returned only to the “upper air.” In 1878, Russell further discovered, the apostles and other members of the “little flock,” a favored few, were raised to meet the Lord, and they are hovering about with Him also in the “upper air.”

In 1914, because that was 2520 years after the defeat of Zedekiah in 606 B.C., there came the “end of the times of the Gentiles.” In that year, we are told, Satan began to wage a ferocious war against Christ and the saints in the “upper air,” and simultaneously “nation rose against nation” on earth in the first world-war. Russell firmly believed that 1914 would mean the great final battle of Armageddon, the end of the world as we know it, the descent of Christ from the “upper air,” and His enthronement as King on earth for a Millennium-after which thousand years the Final Judgment would take place.

When that did not happen, the Witnesses of Jehovah, undismayed by failure, moved the event up several times to 1916, 1918, 1924, 1928, etc., until Judge Rutherford hit on the ingenious explanation that the Second Coming (to the “upper air”) took place as Russell had said in 1874. Christ was enthroned as King (in the “upper air”) in 1914; and in that year, juridically at least, the world as we know it came to an end. In fact, and literally, the final destruction of all earthly kingdoms and Churches in the great final battle of Armageddon has been postponed—until the Witnesses of Jehovah have completed their work of proclaiming the good news of Christ’s enthronement and of warning all nations of the impending catastrophe!

Here we see again almost the same tactics as those adopted by the Seventh Day Adventists. William Miller, the Adventist, had calculated that the Second Coming of Christ would occur on 21 March 1843. When that failed, he said that 21 March 1844 was the correct date. He had merely made a slight mistake in his calculations. When that also failed, he moved the date forward to 22 October 1844. But, alas, nothing happened. Then there arose an Adventist named Hiram Edson, who had it “divinely revealed” to him that Christ did come on the last date after all, but not by returning to this world. On that date, He entered a “heavenly sanctuary” to begin investigating the records of all mankind, to find out who were good and who were evil. Mrs. Ellen G. White, the accepted prophetess of the movement, then discovered that as soon as Christ has finished auditing the books in the “heavenly sanctuary,” He will descend to earth to execute judgment-and that will take place any moment now!

Rutherford working on the same lines, refuses to say just when God will decide that the Witnesses of Jehovah have completed their witness-work-but it will be any moment now! He even went so far as to insist that it would be within the lifetime of his own generation. Hence his slogan, “Millions now Living will never Die.”

It is of little use to draw the attention of Witnesses of Jehovah to the series of failures in the predictions of their inspired prophets. When the end of the world did not come on schedule, and Russell died in 1916 instead of living to see it, as he expected, Rutherford offered his followers the consoling thought that, as Ezekiel was dumb for a year, five month and twenty-six days, so a similar period after the dumbness of Russell in death might elapse before the end. Twenty-six years elapsed, and then Rutherford himself died in 1942, instead of remaining among the millions who would live to see the end. But petty details like that cannot avail with the Witnesses of Jehovah against the whole magnificent scheme in which all others are to receive a fearful drubbing whilst they themselves are to be preserved from harm and elevated to eternal bliss as co-rulers of the world with Christ!

ARMAGEDDON

The battle of Armageddon, which Witnesses of Jehovah interpret literally with no allowance for apocalyptic symbolism, will begin any moment now, despite its having been unaccountably delayed for nearly forty years. The trouble is, apparently, that Satan has not yet had sufficient time to increase all the woes to the intense degree predicted by Scripture for the transition period. However, the signs of the times obviously indicate that the full measure has been practically attained. Christ, with His hosts, will soon descend from the “upper air,” and in a great cataclysms the whole world will be cleansed of all wickedness and evil-doers, safety from which will be found only in God’s organization-that of the Witnesses of Jehovah. And what then?

THE MILLENNIUM

In the Book of the Revelation (Apocalypse) 20:6, St. John speaks of Christ reigning for “a thousand years.” The true interpretation of that expression, in keeping with the whole character of the Book, must be symbolically and not literal or numerical. It means simply “for a long period,” and refers to the whole interval between the birth of Christ into this world and His Second Coming to judge the living and the dead.

Russell and Rutherford, however, won’t have that. They take the Millennium literally, and declare that the Second Coming of Christ will precede it. When Christ comes again, it will be reign for exactly a thousand years on this earth; and then will come the Final Judgment. There is a slight confusion as to dates. Some Witnesses say that since Christ came again in 1874, the Final Judgment will be in the year 2874; but other say no, and that the period will be from 1914 till 2914.

Russell apparently held that there are to be seven millennia. The year 1874, according to him, was the exact 6000th year from Adam’s creation. That geologists have discovered human remains belonging to the Neolithic and Paleolithic Ages, dating back to at least 20,000 years ago, was unknown to him, and would not have worried him had he known of it. For he allowed no evidence of any kind to interfere with his theories. There had to be six millennia to correspond with the six “working-days” of creation; and there had to be a seventh as the “Sabbath” of millennia, and the last of them.

Since the Lord has already returned -invisibly-He is even now ruling the world in the “Millennial Reign,” and using the Witnesses to publish the fact. The “Theocratic Kingdom” has arrived. But the fullness of Christ’s reign cannot come until after Armageddon, the battle between Christ and His enemies, which has been so unaccountably delayed. After Armageddon, according to Russell, all the dead who have ever lived will be raised to life and be given a second probationary period under much more favorable conditions, with Satan bound and a continual evangelistic campaign to help them to make the right choice.

Even on the basis of 6000 years of history wrongly held by Russell, this would mean over 250 million millions of people on this earth simultaneously, covering it so thickly that not all would be able to sit down together! Russell’s successors, having had their attention drawn to the absurdity of this, now say that not all who have ever lived will return, but only those “faithful ones” who were not so incorrigibly wicked as to forfeit any claim to a second chance. The latter will just remain in their state of annihilation.

DENIAL OF IMMORTALITY

The doctrine of annihilation at death leads to the problem of the nature of the human soul. According to Russell and his followers, man has not “got” a soul; he “is” a soul. And his soul is his body. When a man’s body dies, his soul just ceases to be. There is no spiritual soul, immortal of its very nature. “Death,” says Russell, “means total annihilation. There are no souls anywhere awaiting a resurrection. No human being who has ever lived and died exists any longer.

Russell was not impressed by any of the references in Scripture to the living reality of the Patriarchs and Prophets after death, such as Abraham, Moses, Elias, Samuel and others. When confronted with the words of Christ to the dying thief, “Amen, I say to thee-this day thou shalt be with me in paradise,” he said that the proper Greek reading of the text is, “Amen, I say to thee this day-thou shalt be with me in paradise.” With all the Greek scholars of the world against him, this man who did not know even the Greek alphabet, tells us that the Greek meant that!

But on Russell’s own principles, how can he hold that there will ever be a resurrection of anybody? There’s nobody to resurrect! Resurrection does not mean extinction and re-creation. Completely non-existent beings cannot receive bodies as before. If the dead are completely out of existence, any newly existent beings will be completely different beings, and not those who previously lived at all!

Yet Nathan Knorr, instead of saying, “Since Jehovah’s Witnesses believe in resurrection, they believe man possess an immortal soul,” inconsequently says just the opposite. He argues that precisely because they believe in resurrection, they do not believe man possess an immortal soul! However, though we won’t exist to come back, according to the doctrines of the Witnesses of Jehovah, we are all going to come back to have our second chance during the Millennium-unless, of course, we are among the “millions now living who will never die.”

THE SECOND CHANCE

During the “Millennium,” then, in the “Theocratic Kingdom,” men will again be offered eternal life, on the terms of the New Covenant. This life is not our only probation. Despite the fact that nowhere in the Bible is hope held out for any further probation after death; despite the express teaching of Scripture that “it is appointed unto man once to die, and after that the judgment” (Hebrews 9:27); despite the evident finality of Our Lord’s warning, “This night thy soul will be required of thee” (Luke 12:20), the Witnesses tell us that we are to have our lives all over again, and that nothing that took place in this life is going to count. All will depend on the way we behave under the much better millennial conditions.

As the “Millennium” has already commenced, one would think we should be living under those conditions now! But things haven’t been running to timetable. However, as soon as the Witnesses of Jehovah have sufficiently witnessed, Armageddon will be upon us, the resurrection of the dead will take place, and all men will be able to try again.

JUDGMENT AT THE END OF THE MILLENNIUM, IN 2874 OR 2914, WILL COME THE FINAL JUDGMENT

God will then establish His new world of righteousness, and completely vindicate His name. Satan, who has been imprisoned for the thousand years, will be let out to spread evil by crafty means. All will then be tempted and tested. Those who survive successfully this final testing will be divided into two classes.

The first class, called the “Consecrated Class,” or the “Overcoming Class,” will be a “little flock,” limited to 144,000, as declared in the Book of Revelation.

These will go as spirit-beings to the upper air, to live and reign with Christ the divine in a kingdom not of this world. They will have “inherent” life, eternal, and emancipated from the necessity of all food and nourishment. Needless to say, these will all be Witnesses of Jehovah, though which Witnesses of Jehovah will share this “heavenly glory” with Christ is an anxiety to the more than a million present members of the organization! The second class will consist of all the rest of the saved. These will be left in that flesh and blood which cannot inherit the Kingdom of Heaven. This earth will be their eternal home. “The righteous rule of the heavenly Kingdom,” writes Nathan Knorr, “will descend earthward and effect the answer to the prayer: Thy will be done on earth as it is in Heaven.” The saved on earth will constitute the “other sheep” as opposed to the “little flock” in the heavenly places. They will fulfill God’s plan to extend Edenic conditions earth-wide, and have it inhabited by a righteous race of men and women; and in them will be fulfilled God’s promise of the earth to the meek, to be their inheritance.

These will not have “inherent” life, but will live on earth’s food supply in everlasting peace, free from war, oppression, sickness and death. And they will increase and multiply and populate the earth. What will result from a constant multiplication of human beings in this world, with no one ever dying, can only be left to the reader’s imagination! And what of those who do not survive successfully their final testing? They will be annihilated, together with the Devil and all his angels. The Witnesses of Jehovah deny all suffering in another life. The dead, they say, are non-existent; therefore there is no purgatory. At the Final Judgment, the willfully wicked will be exterminated; therefore there’s no hell. When the Bible speaks of hell, according to them, it merely means the grave. Any hell of eternal punishment is just a myth.

SECRET OF SUCCESS

This brief glance at the inconsistent and almost incoherent system of religion invented by Pastor Russell and amplified and altered in many ways by Judge Rutherford, leaves on wondering how it manages to thrive. Witnesses of Jehovah will say that the fact of its growth surely argues to its truth. But other sects with totally different doctrines, yet of similar expansion, would have to be admitted as true on that score. So we must look elsewhere for an explanation.

Firstly, it must not be overlooked that the Witnesses of Jehovah make their appeal chiefly to professing Christians who have drifted from their Churches, and who know little or nothing of Christian doctrine. When these people hear the Churches they have forsaken denounced, they find quite a consolation in the thought that, not they themselves, but the “Churches” are to blame for their neglect of religion. Their lingering attachment to a vague Christian sentiment then makes then listen sympathetically to claims by agents of the “International Bible Students’ Association” that what is needed is a return to Bible Christianity. And they know so little of their religion that they fail to realize how opposed to the teachings of Christ is the mockery of the Bile put before them by the Witnesses in the name of “truth.”

Secondly, among such lapsed Christians, besides ignorance, credulity and superstition are very prevalent. Figures from the Department of Justice in USA indicate that less than one per cent of the Witnesses of Jehovah have had a secondary education, whilst fifteen per cent have had less than a normal primary education. Credulity and superstition have moved them to accept on the authority of Charles Taze Russell and Judge Joseph Franklin Rutherford what has been put before them.

Thirdly, for this they were disposed by world conditions, their own uneasy conscience, and their innate pride. One of the greatest assets of the Witnesses of Jehovah has been the failure of scientific progress to produce Utopia. The world’s poverty and insecurity have made many of the poorer classes clutch at the idea of the early return of Christ, with an ensuing peace and security. Their own uneasy conscience over the neglect of their duties to God has been consoled by the new doctrine that there is no hell. Ingersoll, it is true, had denounced the idea of hell. But he was an infidel, and could scarcely be trusted. Yet here were teachers from God assuring them in the name of religion that hell does not exist. Such an assurance could not fail to appeal to such people.

Meantime, the constant repetition of extravagant threats about the fearful fate soon to overtake Christendom, to escape which one had only to become a Witness of Jehovah and devote oneself to selling booklets, had an additional effect. It is a fact that the atom-bomb scare in America has given a new boost to the Witnesses of Jehovah, many people imagining the end of the world and Armageddon to be really at hand.

Nor must we overlook the subtle appeal to pride and covetousness; the pride of knowing, like the Gnostics of old, esoteric and occult doctrines which the greatest of Christian theologians have failed to grasp; the pride of becoming masters of the world, triumphing like a kind of religious proletariat over the religious capitalists who remained faithful to the spiritual treasures they themselves have forsaken.

These and many other reasons account for conversion to the Witnesses of Jehovah. Truth certainly does not.

ESTIMATE

What must be our estimate, then, of this new religion? Can we regard it as other than an absurd, false, blasphemous and extremely dangerous travesty of Christianity? The absurdity of the whole sorry scheme, so utterly unworthy of an infinitely wise Creator, is surely self-evident. The predications of Russell and Rutherford, the self-appointed prophets of the movement, have been proved false over and over again, compelling them to have recourse to subterfuge after subterfuge. For the Creeds of Christendom, embodying the “faith once delivered to the saints” (Jude 3), we are given a new creed, one of deadly novelties and fallacies. The doctrines of the Holy Trinity, of the Divinity of Christ, of the Personality of the Holy Spirit, of the bodily resurrection of Christ, and of the Church as established by Him are all blatantly denied. The New Testament teaching about the Eucharist and the Sacraments is ignored as if it did not so much as exist. The immortality of the human soul is rejected.

The positive doctrines of this freak religion -for thus only can it be rightly described—are ridiculous in the extreme. What reasonable person could believe that Christ, though He did not rise from the dead, was supplanted by some newly created “spirit-being” who as “a” god, but not “the” God, and who returned to the “upper air” of this world, there to be enthroned as King, in 1874! Who could believe that there He-or this substitute being-is waiting until the Witnesses have witnessed sufficiently to His plans, when he will descend for the great final battle of Armageddon and for a millennial reign of a thousand years on this earth, after which He will turn this earth into an eternal, material paradise!

Spiritually, the whole system is utterly bankrupt. One will read through the whole flood of literature published by this Russell-Rutherford organization without finding any inculcation of the basic Christian virtues of humility, of repentance of sin, or of charity. No genuine love of God or of one’s neighbor finds expression there. There is no emphasis on character-building, on self-conquest, on the necessity of taking up one’s cross and following Christ Our Lord. The supreme message of this caricature of Christianity is “Read, believe, and sell Russell’s and Rutherford’s books, speak of God as ‘Jehovah’ and of all Churches and Governments as ‘Antichrist’-this do, and thou shalt be saved!”

The very doctrine of this system, that people can sin with impunity in this life, cannot but encourage wickedness, immorality and depravity. “God never punishes, either in this life nor in the next,” declared Russell; despite the fact that the law of retribution is insisted upon all through Sacred Scripture. However badly people behave in this life, according to the Witnesses of Jehovah, it does not really matter, since our moral choices now have no effect whatever upon our eternal future. All are annihilated at death, and there’s no purgatory, no hell. If, as Russell says, all are to be raised again and given a second chance, everything will depend on how we behave then, not on how we behave now. Witnesses of Jehovah even say that the more wicked a man has been in this life, the more likely he is to make good in the next! And even if he doesn’t, he will merely be put painlessly out of existence, to experience no future evil consequences whatever of his contemptuous defiance of God.

No one who retains any real respect for Holy Scripture, for God, for Christ, for his fellow-men, for his own human dignity and intelligence, can do anything but reject utterly this counterfeit religion invented by Russell and Rutherford, and so pathetically propagated by their deluded Witnesses of Jehovah.

NIHIL OBSTAT: W. M. Collins, Censor Dioc.

IMPRIMATUR:

@ D. Mannix,

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis

********

The Inquisition

EUSTACE BOYLAN, S. J

INDEX

IN THE LIGHT OF HISTORICAL PERSPECTIVE

PART I -THE EARLIER INQUISITION

IT is not my intention to attempt an outline of the history of the Inquisition. That would be an undertaking of considerable length and complexity, referring, as it does, to a period of three and a half centuries, more or less, with very great national complications; with a society so different in tone and constitution from that existing today that it requires almost a special education in him who would intelligently transfer himself into that society and understand it; and with legal customs and a penal code quite different from ours. Moreover, a general survey of the Inquisition would rightly include, I think, some distinction between the normal or legalised, and the abnormal or irregular functioning of the institution. What I mean is that in the course of the three and a half centuries or so during which it operated in close association with the temporal rulers, it was inevitable that at times powerful political pressure was brought to bear upon its deliberations, and deflected them into abnormal channels. This political intervention often caused acute embarrassment to the Popes. This was notably the case in the time of the Emperor Frederick II. and later in the times of Ferdinand and Isabella, rulers of Castile and Arragon, and of Philip II., King of Spain. But it would be a lengthy task to elucidate this point and others of the kind in the limited space of this pamphlet.

My object, then, is to wander round the subject with the idea of seeing the Inquisition in its historical setting; not to praise, nor yet to blame; but to try to understand, however imperfectly, the state of things that caused to arise among our Christian ancestors an institution which is in itself a difficult problem to our modern minds, and which, moreover, has been obscured by persistent misrepresentation.

WHAT IS THE INQUISITION?

By the Inquisition I mean that tribunal which was established, with Papal sanction in or about the year 1230, and which functioned chiefly in France, Germany, and Northern Italy, and which, two and a half centuries later, Ferdinand and Isabella, rulers of Castile and Arragon, re-established in Spain under Torquemada, where its operations were particularly drastic. We have, therefore, an earlier and a later Inquisition. Part I. deals with the earlier. The later, or Spanish Inquisition, presents special problems, and will be dealt with in Part II.

Referring to the bibliography of this subject, I would specially recommend “The Inquisition,” by Nickerson, an American Episcopalian, whose work is characterised by the latest historical methods, and which skilfully refers the Inquisition to its proper historical setting; Maycock’s work on the Inquisition is the latest, and is also excellent. The Abbe Vacandard’s work, in my opinion, is badly arranged, and is often out of focus, and so is almost worthless, except to a reader who has already the correct orientation of the whole subject. Henry Hales Lea has gone over the history of the Inquisition in great detail, and with much learning, and, as Nickerson says, he would have been a great historian “had he possessed, a grain of imagination, or the least spark of sympathy with the Middle Ages.” The article in the “Encyclopedia Britannica,” largely based on the mendacious Llorente, belongs to the now discarded dust heap of exploded historical methods. “A Brief for the Spanish Inquisition,” by Eliza Atkins Stone, a Protestant writer, is a remarkably clever little work, and exhibits an accurate regard for the best historical methods. Lecky, always conscientious, has apparently no sense of humour, and no understanding of the real life of the Middle Ages. Vermeersch, in his erudite work on Tolerance, presents the Catholic view of the Inquisition with great power.

A proper treatment would include the following two points: facts and perspective, or correct historical setting. It should be perfectly just-that is, not influenced by the controversial hatreds of centuries and the great poisioned stream of the anti-Catholic tradition: nor, on the other hand, should it be a white-washing of the institution. It should be an attempt to state exactly what it was, and-as this is not enough-to gut it in such a way that we can understand it. This is not easy. “History,” says Belloc, “may be scrappy and superficial, and yet on the whole, right; but if its whole orientation is warped by a wrong appreciation of the past, then, however detailed and full of research, it is worse than worthless; it is harmful and it had better not have been written at all. . . . I say (he continues) that the main task of an historian writing in the English language is the shovelling away of rubbish; and this is particularly true of the rubbish which has accumulated over the record of the Dark and early Middle Ages.

FACTS IN FOCUS

The great point, then, in dealing with the Inquisition, or with any other notable institution of the past, is to present facts in focus, in their proper perspective-that is, in their historical setting. If this is not done the facts will be entirely misjudged and misrepresented. This is so important a point that I will dwell on it. In fact, it is the principal matter I wish to insist an throughout these considerations. Let me enforce it by some illustrations.

My first illustration is a purely fictitious one. Suppose among a certain people in the distant past an influential individual is responsible for the institution of slavery. Through the influence of that imaginary individual prisoners of war and other captives are for the first time in history sold into slavery. Judged only from the standpoint of today, the aforesaid individual will be branded as one of the world’s greatest villains, because the institution for which he is responsible inflicts untold misery and degradation on countless thousands of human beings, generation after generation.

Let us now transfer the new institution to its historical context, which, I repeat, is purely imaginary. Slavery, among the people I refer to, was not hitherto in vague; but cannibalism was. It was the custom, let us say, among the people I am considering, either to massacre their prisoners or to eat them. The influential individual I am referring to brings about the change. He says to his fellow-citizens: “Citizens, the practice we have hitherto followed of keeping prisoners to serve as food is barbarous; it degrades us; let us be more humane and civilised; let up keep our captives to work for us.” In other words, let us be slave-owners instead of cannibals. Now, this man, considered, in his historical setting, instead of being a monster, should rather be regarded as a great reformer. He might conceivably have had to face frightful opposition; he might have undergone a painful persecution while promulgating his new ideas, and might even have been done to death. In such a case, this originator of slavery in that nation would not only be one of its great men, and one of its glorious apostles of progress, but a martyr hero in the cause of humanity.

In giving this illustration, and the others that are to follow, the only application I ask for is this: that events and personages of a somewhat distant past can only be judged correctly when examined. in the fullest available light of their historical setting.

Let me take a second illustration in which we try to picture a future generation sitting in judgment on ourselves. Prolonging certain tendencies of the present day into the future, it is, I think, quite reasonable to prophesy that two hundred years hence war will be already a thing of the past. It is quite conceivable that the very idea of war as a method of settling international controversies will be utterly abhorrent to the generations of men I am considering. Those men will probably read with amazement and horror the details of former battles, where masses of men in the prime of life fling themselves on to other masses of men, and, with “reeking tube and bursting shard,” with thrust of bayonet and slash of sword, and thundering charges of cavalry, cover the plain with bleeding and mangled bodies in a conflict that suggests the most primitive savagery. It is conceivable that the very thought of it all will be a nightmare to men from whose lives all experience of actual warfare has passed away. And the verdict they will pass on the generations to whom war was-and is-a recognised method of settling international disputes is hardly likely to be of a flattering description. Now, take our own generation. Despite the recent tendencies in the direction of pacifism, the idea of war is still normal to our thoughts. Apart from apprehension of national downfall or other great disaster, war lies lightly on the public conscience. It is not an exaggeration to say that where war is considered fairly safe, it is regarded by our own generation riot as an enormity but as an adventure. Our ballads, our songs, and our fiction almost universally present war to us as a field for the display of noble qualities and picturesque achievements. Just think of the great novels and stirring poems of Sir Walter Scott, with their glorification of battle, In the stories of our boyhood the innumerable shootings and hackings on the fields of battle were considered not so much as horrors as very entertaining reading. In fact, war is quite normal to our thoughts. Previous to the Great War, the spirit was inculcated in Germany in countless publications and in the organisation of public life. In England, a more pacific nation, war, when not notably dangerous, never weighed on the public conscience. In recent times we had the Crimea war, wars in China, wars against various African native peoples, wars in Egypt and the Sudan, and wars against the Boers; and all these, though barbarous and hideous things in themselves-as would be judged, at all events, by a future generation in which war no longer exists-were undertaken in lightness of heart and with scarcely a qualm of conscience, because none of these conflicts involved the danger of national downfall, and because war is normal to the ideas of the age. And so we may hope that a future generation, in passing judgment on the age in which we live, will judge us not according to standards foreign to our modes of thought but in accordance with the actual standards of the day. In other words, if past events-for instance, those of the Middle Ages-are to be really understood by any generation of men, they must be judged in their exact historical setting.

Let me enforce this important matter by yet another illustration.

At the present day a boy is found guilty of stealing a sheep; a man and a woman are convicted of high treason. How does the law deal with them? The boy, if under eighteen, is taken to the Children’s Court, and, after a paternal admonition, released; if over eighteen, he is fined a couple of pounds or gets a week or two in a hygienic prison, where he has wholesome food, regular exercise, clean clothes and bedding, and, fresh air. A hundred years ago he was hanged! A severe sentence to our way of thinking, but quite in harmony with the modes of thought of our excellent greatgreat-grandfathers.

The man convicted of treason nowadays may get six months or a year; the woman is indulgently let off as a harmless lunatic. In the eighteenth century a more serious view was taken of the accused. The man was hanged, drawn, and quartered; the woman was burnt alive!

And that was the law of England, and quite normal to the thoughts of the day. Truly, criminals were not pampered by our legislators in that not far-distant day. They would have regarded with contempt the milk-and-watery mildness of our present mode of hanging, which, by means of a sudden drop, causes instant death. In those days the criminal was slowly strangled to death. Mr. Townley in 1746-one of eight executed on the, same occasion-was hanging for six minutes before he was cut down, while still alive; then the executioner with his knife ripped him open, cast his heart and entrails into the fire and quartered the body. That was the way men were hanged, drawn, and quartered. It marked the execration of the law for the crime, and the execution was carried out in the presence of an enormous gathering of the public. But why was the woman burnt? Was her penalty intended to be more rigorous? No. Her sentence was considered as severe as that of the man, but not more so. The distinguished jurist, Blackstone, thus explains the reason of the difference: “In treasons of every kind the punishment of women is the same, and different from that of men. For, as the natural modesty of the sex forbids the exposing and publicly mangling their bodies, their sentence (which is to the full as terrible to the sense as the other) is, to be drawn to the gallows and there to be burnt alive.” (Blackstone iv. ch. 6.)

“When Blackstone wrote (in the latter half of the: eighteenth century) there were no less than 160 offences punishable with death,” says Lecky, “and it was a very ordinary occurrence for ten or twelve culprits to be hung on a single occasion; for forty or fifty to be condemned at a single assize.” Seventy were executed at Old Bailey in 1732, and eighteen in one day at Cork; and numerous other executions were carried out at other places in the same year. Note, that the population of England. at the end of the seventeenth century, was only a little over five millions.

“The law which condemned a prisoner who refused to plead on a capital charge to be laid naked on his back in a dark room, while weights of stone or iron were placed on his breast till he was slowly pressed to death, was enforced in England in 1721 and 1735, and in Ireland as late as 1740. The law was repealed in 1771.” (Lecky.) The torture was prolonged till the resistance of the prisoner was overcome, and might last a week. A case occurred. in England in 1741, and this, I believe, was the last occasion on which a man was subjected to this torture, which was, perhaps, as terrible as any ever included in a penal code. The pillory, which was very common, was often a prolonged torture, and several perished in it. The penalty was rendered more severe when the victim in certain cases had his ears sliced off by the executioner, or received no protection from the violence of the mob. “Men, and even women, were sill whipped publicly at the tail of a cart through the streets, and the flogging of women in England was only abolished in 1820.” (Lecky). Women who were guilty of poisoning or of other offences comprised under the heading of high or petty treason were sentenced to be burnt alive by a law which was not repealed till 1790.

All these facts are of common knowledge, and may be read in any detailed history, such as Lecky’s “History of England in the Eighteenth Century.”

Go back to the days of Shakespeare and the other great Elizabethan dramatists. It was the golden age of English literature. Those writers were, on the whole, a jolly and somewhat turbulent lot of men, not given to worry about the hardness of life. Yet, how severe was the penal code? As Hallam says, “the rack was seldom idle during the latter portion of Elizabeth’s reign.”

In the Carolina, or penal code of the Emperor Charles V., of the year 1532, the following penalties are included: Blasphemy was punished with mutilation and death; pederasty and sodomy with the stake; comers and those circulating false coins knowingly were condemned to the flames; defaulters of weights and measures to flogging-or, in extreme cases, to death; burglars, however small the thefts might be, to mutilation or death by hanging. Similar severities were found in the penal codes of most other countries of that time.

THE INQUISITION DID NOT MONOPOLISE PERSECUTLON

It would, then, be quite illusory to suppose that severe measures were the monopoly of the Inquisition. They belonged to all the penal codes, and they were used by all the Reformers. To suppose that England, for example, abandoned the ancient Faith through gentle sol: citation, or through the medium of persuasive tracts and pamphlets, would be to nurse a delusion which has no support in history. The new doctrines were everywhere promulgated through violence and proscription. And the same policy was pursued by the Reformers in all countries where the new doctrines secured the support of the civil authorities. “Persecution,” says Hallam, in his “Constitutional History,” “is the deadly original sin of the reformed churches; that which cools every honest man’s zeal for their cause in proportion as his reading becomes more extensive.”

Mr. Lecky, who, I need hardly state, was not a Catholic, draws a striking contrast between Catholic and Protestant Intolerance:

“Catholicism was an ancient Church. She had gained a great part of her influence by vast service to mankind. She rested avowedly on the principle of authority. She was defending herself against aggression and innovation. . . . She might point to the priceless blessings she had bestowed on humanity; to the slavery she had destroyed; to the civilisation she had founded; to the many generations she had led, with honour, to the grave. She might show how completely her doctrines were interwoven with the whole social system; how fearful would be the convulsion if they were destroyed, and how absolutely incompatible they were with the acknowledgment of private judgment.”

But what shall we say of a church that was but a thing of yesterday, a church that had as yet no services to show, no claims upon the gratitude of mankind; a church that was by profession the creature of private judgment, and was in reality generated by the intrigues of a corrupt Court; which, nevertheless, suppressed by force, a worship that multitudes deemed necessary to their salvation; and by all her organs and with all her energies persecuted those who clung to the religion of their fathers?

“What shall we say of a religion which comprised at most but a fourth part of the Christian world, and which the first explosion of private judgment shivered into countless sects, which was, nevertheless, so pervaded by the spirit of dogmatism that each of these sects asserted its destructive doctrines with the same confidence, and persecuted with the same unhesitating violence, as a Church that was venerable with the homage of sixteen centuries?

“So strong and so general was its intolerance that for some time it was, I believe, truly said that there were more instances of partial toleration being advocated by Roman Catholics than by orthodox Protestants.” (“Rationalism in Europe,” Vol. I., p. 51).

THE MIDDLE AGES

And now, as we turn our attention to the Middle Ages, let us note a truth too often forgotten: the Church founded by Christ did not enter into an empty world which it at once proceeded to furnish. On the contrary, the world into which the Church was introduced, and in which it continued to labour during subsequent ages, was already elaborately furnished. The churchmen of bygone centuries, despite the fact that they held the same deposit of the Faith that Catholics do at the present day, and subscribed to every article of the same creeds, were, nevertheless, in modes of thought, tradition, and education, the children of their age. Undoubtedly, the Church from the beginning, as the opportunity offered, began to introduce new furniture into the world, and, as her influence grew, to discard here and there objectionable pieces of the old furniture, and to modify others. But, though Christianity, as a leavening process, gradually made itself felt as the dominant influence throughout the whole civilised world, it would be unreasonable to expect that the tone and temper, the modes of thought, the customs and feelings, the legal and criminal codes, and the organisation of society should be the same in the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries as in the nineteenth and twentieth. Dean Maitland, in his essays on the “Dark Ages,” written nearly 100 years ago, at a time when history-at least, in as far as it dealt with the Catholic Church-was almost entirely on wrong lines, makes the following interesting reflection: “Do what he may, no man can strip himself of the circumstances, and concomitants, which it leas pleased God to place around him. He may say, ‘I will be a monk’; and he may call himself, and get others to call him by the name; but if he says, ‘I will be a monk of the fourth century,’ or, ‘a monk of the twelfth century,’ we can only assure him that he is mistaken, that the thing is impossible, and that if he is a monk at all nowadays, it must be of the nineteenth century. I am not speaking of either one of those centuries as better or worse than the others, but only mean that whatever character he may assume, he must take it in his own circumstances. . . . Nothing can be more clear than that any man, whether young or old, whether lay or clerical, a nobleman or tradesman, a soldier or sailor, a peasant or mechanic, a man rich or poor, single or married, who is now living in England, is, both as to externals and as to the modification of himself, in very different circumstances from those in which he could have been placed had he lived in the same character and station in the fourth, or in the twelfth century.” A most judicious criticism.

And, now, let us go back to the Middle Ages -to the great centuries of growth, to the fiery youth of Europe. It was a great time, a time of impetuous energy and vigorous thought. Accustomed to the shock of battle, and to hard and simple living, men’s nerves were like steel. The penal codes were severe, but no one worried. Men had not that sensitiveness to suffering, that horror of physical pain, that dread of discomfort, which are so characteristic of our own times. They worried as little about pain and death (says Henry Adams) as healthy young bears do in the mountains. It was a rough world, but a robust one, full of health and energy-a time of tremendous expansiveness-even of boisterous jollification. In contrast to the old pagan days, it was a happy world, and the secret of men’s happiness was the Faith. That Faith was a wonderful thing for individuals and society. It was the great and only unifying principle in European civilisation. At the same time it expanded man’s horizon, and opened windows looking out on eternity. The image of the Man of Sorrows and His gentle Virgin Mother assuaged his pains with sympathy and companionship, and sustained his heart with boundless hope. The pagan world of Greece and Rome-for all its mighty achievements failed to lift the shadows from the life of man. The pagan world was radically unhappy, and was heavy with the Groans of millions of slaves. Those who belaud the glories of Greece and the expansive times of the mighty Roman Empire, to the detriment of the Middle Ages, are entirely off the lines of accurate thinking.

CLASSIC PHILOSOPHY

The Greek philosophers, and after them the Romans, were always groping in the dark after ideals. But they never found an ideal that satisfied the needs of the human spirit. For them the road of existence wandered through mists and obscurity; and where it ended no man knew, except that it was lost in the dark. Could their philosophers and their moral teachers tell us, in unambiguous language, that love had a future? that sorrow had a consoler? that right had its ultimate triumph? That the scales would be finally adjusted? Not a bit of it. Did any all-embracing love allay the wounds of bruised hearts and soothe the pangs of heart-hunger? Not in the least. Had the great Thunderer of Olympus a message of hope and deliverance for the slave? Not he! Did Apollo bind the wounds of the leper? Did Venus minister to anything but fugitive passion? Were any of their gods or goddesses associated in men’s minds with love for the human race? Was there pity anywhere in that cold and hard sky for the hopeless, the outcast and the fallen? Apparently not their poets philosophers gave no message of assured hope; darkness lay on the face of the waters; and in the depth of man’s being was uncertainty and uneasiness.

Broadly speaking ancient philosophy produced two great schools of thought -the Stoics and the Epicureans. The Stoic doctrine may be summed up somewhat as follows: “Life is hard; tribulations abound; but there is no use repining; let us grin-if possible-and bear our fate.” The Epicurean concentrated on enjoyment. “Gather the roses while we may,” was his watchword; “let us eat, drink, and be merry, for tomorrow we die.” Yes, let us eat and drink, and let us be merry-if we can-for the banquet is coming to an end, the music is dying down, the lights are going out, and the banquet will end in the dark. And what the night will bring no one knows. Under such circumstances mirth must inevitably lack the quality of depth; its laughter is on the lips, but not in the heart; the thrill of true joy is impossible. The philosophy of life as yet gave no firm basis for those resounding guffaws that echo from the Middle Ages.

Then into this dark, bewildered and unhappy world comes the gracious figure of Jesus Christ. The darkness is dispelled. Like an exquisite dawn there comes from the poor stable of Bethlehem, from the little cottage of Nazareth, from the Hill of Calvary, the message of joy and of hope, and of glorious ideals. The poor, the wretched, the drudge, the outcast, the leper, the slave, lift up their hearts. They are enfolded in a mighty love and compassion. A direction and a meaning are given to life; there is now a light on the path; there are outstretched arms at the end of the road; a Friend is at hand with His amazing companionship for the journey; and His words of grace and hope and love fall on the uneasy heart of man like music from beyond the stars. He lifted the darkness and gave us a new world.

THE MEDIAEVAL ATMOSPHERE

The man of the middle Ages, therefore, inherited a happy and friendly universe, and Catholic feeling wrapped him round like an atmosphere. He was on easy terms with the saints, with the Blessed Virgin, with Jesus Christ Himself. Through his faith, whatever else he might lack, he was “at home with God.” And the signs of his religion were all about him. The trivialities of existence supplied him with ten thousand pleasant reminders. He was kind to the robin redbreast, because it was the little bird that plucked the thorns from the brow of Christ; the tiny red beetle, the ladybird, was the little creature of the Blessed Virgin; and so he was friendly to it, and neither he nor his children would do it the least harm; the humble ass, the beast of burden of the poor, bore on its back the sign of the Cross, because it had once been ridden by Jesus Christ. Holy days were also holidays and times of rejoicing. Religious festivals were numerous and were celebrated, not only with sacred ceremonies but with all kinds of uproarious jollification. Travel was largely a pilgrimage to some holy shrine. As to hell and the devil, undoubtedly they were regarded as profound matters, but neither the one nor, the other depressed the mediaevalist in the slightest. To maintain, as some have done (Mr. Lecky, for instance, who never understood the Middle Ages), that those beliefs laid on his mind an abiding and overwhelming sense of terror is to utter morbid nonsense. In pageants and miracle plays Satan himself was often characterised, and his appearance on the scene was invariably greeted with roars of laughter. Not one of these mediaeval men had the slightest doubt about the existence and fiendish malice of Satan, but they were robust enough to treat him as the comic character of the piece. They knew they could elude his wiles if they liked; and they enjoyed a hearty laugh at the expense of their old and discomfited enemy.

THE MEDIAEVAL HORROR OF HERESY

From the foregoing considerations we can get some idea, however imperfect, of the attitude of the mediaeval mind towards heresy. Heresy was the evil par excellence. In a universally Catholic society, it never entered a man’s mind that the heretic could be sincere. The heretic was a traitor, guilty of treason to God and to human society. In fact, he was an anarchist. And so the rulers regarded him. And heresy, by threatening the Faith, was a thrust back to the ancient pagan darkness and unhappiness, from which Christianity had delivered the world. Popular feeling, therefore, rose up in execration of the evil. In fighting heresy, man was fighting not only for his happiness but for his very existence.

Moreover, the mediaeval heresies, the principal of which was the Albigensian, were particularly repulsive and antisocial. The Albigensian heresy was an offspring of the ancient Manichean perversion, and laid a horrible and morbid emphasis on the principle of evil. Failure to check it would have been a disaster to society. Among other things, it taught that marriage was sinful, that the marriage act and the procreation of children were crimes. Then, there was the “Endura”-”a barbarous practice,” as M. Tanon observes, “which we would scarcely believe unless we had such frequent allusions to it.” It consisted in the practice of suicide as a religious rite. It was encouraged by the “Perfect” as being highly meritorious. It has been maintained that the Endura put more people to death in Languedoc than the stake or the Inquisition.

These morbid innovators were everywhere detested, by the people. And the fury of the populace and the indiscriminatingly repressive measures of the rulers were the impelling reasons for the establishment of the Inquisition. The Inquisition, so far from increasing the number of deaths, greatly lessened them by acting as a restraining influence on the indiscriminate violence of the mob and the rulers. In fact, a tribunal was established which, in its normal functioning, and apart from a few deplorable exceptions, gave to the accused the benefit of a fair trial. It provided an orderly and deliberate trial instead of lynching by the mob or high-handed slaughter by the rulers. It was statute law in place of lynch law.

For a long time the churchmen shrank from the task, but circumstances forced their hands. In illustration, we may mention some cases of civil and mob action against heretics before the Inquisition was established.

HERETICS OFTEN LYNCHED BEFORE THE INQUISITION WAS INSTITUTED. When the presence of the Albigenses at Orleans (eleventh century) first became known, King Robert the Pious hastily gathered a council to settle what was to be done. So great was the fury of the common people that the Queen herself was stationed at the door of the church where the heretics were being tried to save them from being dragged into the streets and lynched. Thirteen of the accused, including ten resident canons of the Collegiate Church of the Holy Cross, were condemned to be burnt alive; and as they came out of the church, the Queen, recognizing amongst them a priest who had been her confessor, sprang forward and jabbed him in the face with a stick, putting out an eye. Amid the execrations of the people they were bundled out of the town and condemned to the flames. This outburst of violence (says Maycock) is of interest as being the first recorded instance in European history proper of the burning of heretics.

In 1051 the presence of Albigenses was discovered at Goslar, in north Germany. The Emperor Henry 111. convened a council, and, “with the consent of all, in order that the leprosy of heresy may be prevented from spreading and contaminating a greater number of persons” (Emperor’s words), ordered that they should all be hanged. This was an innovation of the law of the Empire and was merely a measure of public safety.

In 1076 a heretic of Cambrai was brought before an assembly of the Bishops and leading clergy of the diocese. They were unable to reach a decision on the matter. But, as he left the council, the unfortunate man was seized by the people and lynched in the manner familiar in the United States in regard to the Negroes.

“Instances of similar excesses could be multiplied.” says Maycock, “but the important point to be noted is that in all these cases, extending over a century, the Church either held aloof or plainly manifested her disapproval.”

In 1145 a half-witted fanatic proclaimed himself the Son of God, and (in the diocese of St. Malo), made a number of converts among the peasants, who, not content with denying the Faith, began to loot the churches and break into the monasteries. The leader, recognised to be insane, was placed in the kindly hands of the Abbot of St. Denis, and ended his life in a monastery. But his followers were hunted down by the people, and several perished at the stake

INQUISITION REALLY A HUMANITARIAN INSTITUTION

Events such as these-and there were numerous others of the kind-forced the hands of the churchmen, and, accordingly, in France, in 1430, the Inquisition was established by the authority of the Pope, as an orderly and judicial means of dealing with what was regarded as a terrible social and religious evil. Maycock writes:”In the thirteenth century the secular arm, as a rule, needed no encouragement in the vigorous prosecution of heresy. And, so far as the burning of heretics was concerned, the Inquisition was a damping factor rather than a driving force. Undoubtedly Vacandard is right when he says, “Taking all in all, the Inquisition in its operation developed a real progress in the treatment of criminals; for it not only put an end to the vengeance of the mob, but it diminished considerably the number of others condemned to death.’ “The Inquisitors were not cruel, and had no idea of merely inflicting pain-I speak of normal cases, and not of those unfortunate exceptions which are always found in every system operating in a wide extent of time and place. Their idea was to repress evil, to protect the faith of the people, and to save the heretics themselves. They believed that repressive measures taken against heresy were not only good for society at large but for the heretics themselves. They had intense convictions about eternity, and they held-as seems logical for every sincere Christian to hold-that the life of the body is of no account in comparison with the life of the soul. Every effort was made to persuade the accused to retract his error, and only when that failed was he “relaxed” or handed over to the civil authorities to undergo the sentence of the law. Even Henry Lea admits that comparatively few were sentenced to death.

“We cannot,” says Maycock, “isolate the mediaeval Inquisition from its setting and pass judgment upon it as though the humanitarian feeling of the present day had been prevalent in the Middle Ages. At the present time the Holy Office still performs, with wise and generous use of its authority, that same task of inquiry and supervision which in more turbulent tithes involved the employment of more vigorous and terrible methods.”

PART II. -THE SPANISH INQUISITION

AS in Part 1, I wish to insist on the fact that if we are to understand the Inquisition, we have to perform the difficult but indispensable feat of detaching ourselves from our present historical context and transferring ourselves into a bygone period, differing enormously from ours in its manners, its customs, its attitude towards heresy, its legal procedure, and the severity of the criminal code. We distinguished two phases of the Inquisition-the earlier, and the later or Spanish variety. The earlier, established about 1230, operated chiefly in France, Germany, and Northern Italy, and lasted for about two and a half centuries. That was dealt with in the previous pamphlet. The later, or Spanish Inquisition proper, was established in or about 1480, and was more rigorous in its operations than the earlier institution. Looking back to the origin of the Inquisition, we see that the churchmen were at first very reluctant to undertake the task of inquisitors, but circumstances forced their hands. The mediaeval heresies, notably the Albigensian and other offshoots of the Manichean perversion, were of a repulsive and, anti-social type, and almost everywhere was received by the execrations of both rulers and people. Lynchings of heretics by the mob remind us of what has happened so often in our own day in the United States in the case of Negroes guilty or suspected of certain crimes. The Inquisition, by its careful and orderly procedure, saved many innocent lives by substituting statute law for lynch law, or the indiscriminating violence of the rulers. It lessened the number of deaths and protected many innocent persons.

THE MEDIAEVAL EXECRATION OF HERESY

In his “History of Europe” (a book recommended by our Melbourne University for students in European History),

James Harvey Robinson, Professor of History in Columbia University, writes as follows:

“It is very difficult for us who live in a tolerant age to understand the universal and deep-rooted horror of heresy which prevailed not only in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries, but also down at least to the eighteenth. Too much stress cannot be laid on the fact that heresy was considered treason against an institution which practically all-both the learned and the unlearned-agreed was not only essential to salvation but was necessary to order and civilisation. Frank criticism of the lives of the clergy, not excluding the Pope himself, was common enough. But this did not constitute heresy. One might believe that the Pope and half the Bishops were bad men, and yet in no way question the necessity for the Church’s existence or the truth of every one of its dogmas; just as nowadays we might call particular rulers and government officials fools or knaves without being suspected of repudiating governments altogether. The heretic was the anarchist of the middle Ages. He did not simply denounce the immorality of the officers of the Church; he claimed that the Church was worse than useless. He sought to lead people to throw off their allegiance to it, and to disregard its laws and commands. The Church and civil government consequently proceeded against him as an enemy of society and order. Heresy was, moreover, a contagious disease, and spread rapidly and unobserved, so that, to the rulers of the times, even the harshest measures appeared justifiable, in order to prevent its dissemination.

WHAT A MAN WILL FIGHT FOR

Man is a combative being. There are many matters of varying importance for which he is prepared to die or to kill. Rather than yield a yard of his frontier line, he is prepared to see the blood of slaughtered thousands flow like a river. Few even of those who fought in the Great War could tell exactly why they were killing one another. In a general way, no doubt, men understood that the various combatants were influenced by some such motives as the following:-Desire of political or commercial advantages, fear of a successful rival in trade or territory, expansion of empire, and the like. And for these matters men died in millions. According to Mr. Winston Churchill in his book on the War, five millions of the soldiers of the Central Powers, seven millions of the opposing Allies, were slaughtered, to say nothing of the millions of “minor” casualties, such as the loss of limbs, eyes, and reason. Through some defect of historic judgment, this tremendous accumulation of suffering, concentrated into a period of four years, and embracing so many millions of victims, appears to some minds less noteworthy than the deaths of a few thousand heretics who were tried by the Inquisition during the course of several centuries.

If a thinker of the Middle Ages, endowed with prophetic insight, could have visualised our own times, I can imagine him saying something like this: “Well, well: for some paltry territorial advantage, for some sordid commercial or political gain, through fear of the advance of a rival, or other such motives, you turn the plains of Europe into a shambles and scatter wrecks and corpses on the high seas. And, apart from those who have felt the pangs of bereavement owing to the War, or who have suffered from national humiliation or great financial loss, there is scarcely one of you on whom the Great War presses as a horrible occurrence. You thought these things worth fighting for. And will you not allow us to fight against an evil that we consider far greater than any commercial or territorial loss? Will you not understand that we considered we had good reasons for repressing those who tended to disintegrate civil society, to destroy the faith of our children, and to encumber the road that leads to man’s eternal destiny? And do not forget that in one important skirmish of your Great War there were as many victims as the Inquisition claimed in three and a half centuries.”

THE HISTORY SPECIALIST

The writer who specialises in a limited phase of history is a dangerous man when dealing with a remote period. If his speciality is war, he is apt to- give to an incautious reader the impression that there was nothing but fighting; if he deals with the criminal law, that there was nothing but repression. This danger is not present when he is dealing with some phase of present-day history, because, from our knowledge of the life that flows around us in infinite variety, we are able to fill up the details omitted by the specialist. If he treats of the wars of our own day, we know that away from the battlefields life went on as usual. While cannon thundered on the various fronts of the Great War, business went its accustomed course in the towns and countryside remote from the battlefields. Harvests were sown and reaped; tailors, bootmakers, plumbers, carpenters, shopmen, lawyers, doctors, and policemen pursued their customary occupations. Cricket and football, dancing, bathing, beer drinking, and even “two up” went on as usual. But when we deal with days long past, we are apt to be misled by the specialist, because, unless we have a rather comprehensive knowledge of the period under discussion, as well as a correct historical imagination, we are unable to fill up the omitted details of the picture. From the specialised details of inquisitorial procedure as given in the elaborate volumes of Henry Charles Lea, the incautious reader is liable to forget that all the while life was flowing uninterruptedly through its thousands of channels, and that the ordinary citizen usually took as little notice of the doings of the Inquisition as our fellow-citizens nowadays take of the proceedings of our police courts. We cannot judge of the Church’s tolerance by the Inquisition alone. We must remember, for example, that the first century of the Inquisition was also the century of St. Francis of Assisi, of St. Dominic, of St. Clare, of St. Bonaventure, and a great many other saints, who were filled with love even for sinners, and in whom we find the quintessence of the Catholic spirit.

THE SPANISH INQUISITION

As the early Inquisition was coming to an end, having successfully accomplished its main task of freeing Europe from the Albigensian horror, and, moreover, with but little loss of life, the Spanish institution made its appearance (about 1480). Its severity was certainly great, and it had some characteristics not found in the earlier form. Nearly all the uproar about the Inquisition is based on the Spanish brand of it. Now, we are not asked to defend the Spanish Inquisition; we are asked to understand it. Catholics, as much as any others, reprobate and condemn whatever injustice or cruelty may be fairly laid. to its account. But the more we enter into the special problems with which Spain had to contend at the time, the more we see that vast layers of controversial garbage have been piled on the institution.

Let us transfer ourselves into Spain in the closing decades of the fifteenth century, and, above all, let us try to enter into the very soul of the Spanish patriot and Catholic.

In the days of Ferdinand and Isabella, under whom the later Inquisition was established, Spain had just emerged from a terrible experience. That experience, I imagine, must be almost unique in European history. For 800 years the Spanish nation was buried in the waters of a deluge. This proud and, obstinate people had come under the yoke of alien hordes of Asiatic and African blood. Through the deplorable divisions of her Ostro-Gothic chieftains she had quickly fallen a prey to the Moorish arms. Over every citadel waved the Crescent; turbaned garrisons occupied every fortress; the gleaming scimitar was ready to strike at the slightest sign of insubordination; the Mosque threw its shadow over the national Church; the Mahommedan replaced the Christian as the ruler of Spain. And the chains of bondage were riveted for eight hundred years. Seldom has the humiliation of a people been more complete. Few Spaniards can look back to that descent into the abyss without thoughts both deep and dark.

If you have the faintest spark of historical imagination, if your sympathies can be stirred by any problem of the past, enter in spirit the marts of Cordova, Seville, or Salamanca during the. Moorish occupation and sound the depths of the Spanish soul. Can you not at least dimly perceive what the Spaniard feels as, striding gloomily through the marketplace, he sees the ever-present signs of his subjection, and notes the tramp of the Mahommedan garrison and the gleam of their arms? Do you note the dangerous glint in his eyes as he passes the mansions and the counting-houses of the Jews -the allies of the Moors? The Jews were more numerous in Spain than in any other country, and nearly all the wealth was in their hands. To the Spaniard the Moor was the alien master, the Jew the traitor within the gates. His feelings towards both can well be imagined.

At last the hour struck and Spain emerged from the abyss. Eight hundred years of humiliation and subjection is a long and perplexing vista. The Spanish nation, dripping with the waters of the flood, found itself, sword in hand, back in the light of freedom, the lost nationality regained. It was the guerilla chiefs, for whom Spain has ever been famous, with their bands of followers, that had maintained the fight for freedom. Men who have lived the lives of outlaws and marauders, and other men who have been delivered from a condition in which they were little better than slaves, are not the most amiable of men. I can well believe that the Spanish character had acquired a dangerous dourness. Rulers and people alike were not in a mood to be trifled with. They were not likely to pamper their former masters and those whom they rightly or wrongly regarded as traitors within the gates. At all events, they would take stern precautions against a return to the abyss.

Though the Spaniard stood erect as a man who had won his liberation by the sword, he was far from feeling at ease in his hour of triumph. His hard-won liberties were not yet assured. The land was still filled with restless Moors and Jews, ready, if the opportunity occurred, to renew the ancient warfare; and, besides, the reconquest of his country was incomplete. The Crescent still waved menacingly over the fortress of Granada. The nation was obsessed with the problem of self-preservation. The conviction was steadily growing in the minds of both rulers and people that the Moors and Jews must conform to the national religion or leave the country. Ferdinand and Isabella ruled in Castile and Arragon, and it was under these rulers and in the special circumstances described that the later Inquisition was established in Spain. Those circumstances are glossed over, or even entirely omitted, in the usual controversial accounts of the institution, whereas to the Spaniard they explained and justified it.

A PARABLE

Let us Australians place ourselves for a few moments in a historical context similar to that in which the Spanish nation found itself in 1450. (Those of other nationalities can exercise their imagination on similar lines.) Australians love their country as intensely as the Spaniards loved theirs. They cannot endure the idea of even a small fragment of Australian territory passing under alien rule. But what if the whole of Australia was occupied for ages by armed intruders, who reduced the native sons to the condition of serfs?

To help us to understand Spain, let us suppose that this very nightmare became a reality. An Asiatic conqueror lands on our shores, subdues city after city, and eventually becomes master of the entire country. Australians become the subjects, almost the slaves, of Asiatic overlords, and the chains of their bondage are securely riveted for centuries. The flag of the conqueror floats from the fortresses of Sydney and Melbourne; tribute is exacted from the conquered people; the temples of Asiatic religions are thronged with alien worshippers. The Australian people have sunk into the abyss.

To complete the parallel with Spain, let us suppose two other circumstances: first, that the Australian people are undivided in professing one faith-to which they are intensely attached-let us simply call it Christianity; and, second, that there is another alien race in the country, possessed of enormous wealth, in close alliance with the Asiatic invaders, and universally regarded by the Australian people as traitors, as allies of the alien masters.

We are now in a position to evaluate a dire historical experience through which another nation has passed. From our knowledge of ourselves we know what Australians circumstanced as described would feel; we can understand their dark thoughts, their fierce, but necessarily private, conversations, their “curses, not loud, but deep,” the dangerous glint in their eyes as they brood on the arrogance of their masters, and their vows of vengeance on the enemy if ever they shall regain the mastery.

We know that Australians are a good-natured, pleasure loving people. But we also feel-unless we have no knowledge of human nature-that having reconquered their liberties, and still heavy with the memories of their age-long humiliation, the Australian people would give short shrift to their former enemy and his traitorous allies. The intruders would all be bundled out of the country, and, not improbably, their departure would be preceded by numerous bloody massacres. I am inclined to believe that Australia, having passed through such a calamity as described, would be far less lenient to her enemies than Spain was.

A FEW NOTES ABOUT THE SPANISH INQUISITION

My object is not to describe the operations of the Spanish Inquisition, but to put it in the historical context that explains it. In a very summary manner I add a few points, or rather, mere headings, without developing them.

(1) From the special problems with which Spain was confronted, and from the policy of the rulers, the Spanish Inquisitors were civil functionaries more than Church officials. “A fair way of putting the case is perhaps this” (says Eliza Atkins Stone, a Protestant writer): “The machinery of the Spanish Inquisition was mainly ecclesiastical; the Vatican had more or less voice in its management, but on the lever was always not the Papal, but the Royal hand.” This much is beyond question: It began its career under the definite censure of the Holy See, and the latter, perturbed at its severity, constantly urged clemency.

(2) After some vain attempts at milder measures, the Jews were given the option of conforming to the national faith or leaving the country. Most of them left, and, as a result, endured great suffering. Many came back and conformed outwardly. The Inquisition courts concerned themselves only with the Jews and Moors who had become Christians and relapsed, or who carried on an active proselytism.

(3) The Moorish and, Jewish peril having been removed, the Inquisition, midway in the sixteenth century, turned its batteries against the advancing danger of the Reformation. Forty years earlier, Dr. Martin Luther had, nailed his fiveand-ninety propositions to the church door at Wittenberg, and soon the greater part of Europe was convulsed. Wars, commotions, revolutions became the order of the day. As time went on these disturbances assumed a frightfully sanguinary character. England was ablaze; Ireland was submerged beneath a vast tidal-wave of religious persecution; France, for a period of forty years, was almost strangled by the frightful struggles of Huguenots and Catholics; Germany, at the end of the Thirty Years War, had lost half her population. Spain was resolved that the conflagration should, not cross her frontiers, or, if it did, that it should be prevented from spreading. She had had her fill of internal way in fact, eight hundred years of it, with disaster to the national existence. And so the machinery of the Inquisition was used to prevent the threatened conflagration. Its success was complete. While the blood of civil war flowed in so many other quarters, Spain was, at peace.

“There was not,” says Voltaire, the arch-foe of Catholicism-”there was not in Spain during the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries any of the bloody revolutions, of the conspiracies . . . which we see in the other kingdoms of Europe. In fine, except for the horrors of the Inquisition, there would be nothing with which to reproach Spain.” Voltaire does not point the moral, but De Maistre does. “That is to say,” says De Maistre, “that Spain escaped only by means of the Inquisition the horrors that dishonoured all the others.”

(4) The popular supposition, based on the wild assertions of controversialists, that the Spanish Inquisition has a kind of monopoly, or, at all events, pre-eminence in repressive measures, has little support in sober history. The fact is that all the Reformers, whenever they were able to secure the support of the civil authorities, adopted violent methods for the repression of those who were unwilling to conform to their various creeds, and that, too, without the justification which the Spaniards found in the acute national problems with which they were confronted. The Spanish scholar, Balmez, challenged the critics of the later Inquisition to produce the facts and figures of their own repressive measures and compare them with those of Spain. The honours of the comparison, he maintained, would rest with Spain.

Two wrongs do not make a right. If the Spanish Inquisition was guilty of cruelty and injustice, it is no alleviation of its guilt to point out that Protestant persecutors were as bad or worse. At the same time, it helps to correct false views of history to note that the rigour of the Spanish Inquisition is not an isolated phenomenon, and that there were Protestant inquisitions far more terrible than anything that can be charged to Spain. Taking up the challenge of Balmez, let us, for the purposes of comparison, glance at the attempted repression of the Catholic Faith in Ireland, taking our account from Lecky, a non-Catholic historian. It is a terrible narrative, but it helps us to understand the hard character of the times.

THE ORDEAL OF IRELAND

The repressive measures referred to were begun by Elizabeth, and continued relentlessly for over two centuries. These measures aimed not merely at the extirpation of the Catholic religion but at the extermination of the Irish people. It is a terrible statement to make, but it is a sober fact of history. It cannot be denied. No doubt, the Irish wars of Elizabeth were not ostensibly begun as part of the religious controversy, but in practice it was so, and soon all disguise was thrown off, and the long-drawn record of repression, lasting to the end of the eighteenth century, was openly avowed and recorded in the Penal Code as a measure for the extirpation of Popery. I quote from Lecky (“History of England in the Eighteenth Century”), who was certainly not in favour of the Catholic Faith, and who was a strong partisan of English rule in Ireland. Yet, as a historian of English rule in Ireland, his judgments are carefully measured.”

“The great wars of Elizabeth” (says Lecky) “established the complete ascendan cy of English law. The suppression of the native race in the wars against Shane O”Neill, Desmond, and Tyrone, was carried on with a ferocity, which surpassed Alva in the Netherlands, and was hardly exceeded by any page in the bloodstained annals of the Turks. A deliberate attempt was made to assassinate the great Irish leader, Shane O”Neill, by a present of poisoned wine. . . . .Essex accepted the hospitality of Sir Brian O’Neill. After the banquet, when the Irish chief had retired unsuspiciously to rest, the English General surrounded the house with soldiers, captured his host with his wife and brother, sent them all to Dublin for execution, and massacred the whole body of his friends and retainers.

“An English officer invited seventeen Irish gentlemen to supper, and when they rose from the table had them all stabbed. A Catholic Archbishop named Hurley fell into the hands of the English authorities, and, before they sent him to the gallows, they tortured him to extract confession of treason by one of the most horrible torments human nature can endure-by roasting his feet with fire.

“But these isolated episodes, by diverting the mind from the broad features of the war, serve rather to diminish than to enhance its atrocity. The war, as conducted by Carew, by Pelham, by Mountjoy, was literally a war of extermination. The slaughter of Irishmen was looked upon as literally the slaughter of wild beasts. Not only the men, but even the women and children who fell into the hands of the English were deliberately and systematically butchered. Bands of soldiers traversed great tracts of country, slaying every living thing they met. The sword was not found sufficiently expeditious, but another method proved much more efficacious. Year after year, over a great part of Ireland, all means of subsistence were destroyed, no quarter was given to prisoners who surrendered, and the whole population was skilfully and steadily starved to death.

“The pictures of the condition of Ireland at this time are as terrible as anything in human histo ry.” After various terrible details, Lecky continues: “Long before the war terminated, Elizabeth was assured that she had little left to reign over but ashes and carcasses. It was boasted that in all the wide territory of Desmond, not a town, village, castle, or farmhouse was unburnt; and a high English official, writing in 1582, computed that in six months more than 30,000 people had been starved to death in Munster, besides those who were hung or who perished by the sword. The slaughter of women as well as of men, of unresisting peasants as well as of armed rebels, was openly avowed by the English commanders. The Irish annalist told, with horrible detail, how the bands of Pelham and Ormond killed blind and feeble men, women, boys, and girls, sick persons, idiots and old people; how, in Desmond’s country, even after all resistance had ceased, soldiers forced men and women into old barns, which were set on fire, and if any attempted to escape they were shot or stabbed; how soldiers were seen to take up infants on the points of their spears and whirl them about in their agony; how women were found hanging on trees with their children at their breasts.” (Lecky says in a foot-note that the substantial truth of the description given by the Irish annalist is only too fully corroborated.)

Similar methods were carried on by Cromwell, and later were enacted in cold blood in the Penal Laws at the end of the Revolution which dethroned the Stuarts.

The reading of those Penal Laws, so cruel, so universal in their operation, and so degrading, is enough to make one shiver at the lengths to which the persecuting spirit can carry men. In the words of Edmund Burke, speaking of the Penal Laws: “It was a complete system, full of coherence and consistency, well digested and well composed in all its parts. It was a machine of wise and, elaborate contrivance, and as well fitted for the oppression, impoverishment, and degradation of a people, and the debasement in them of human nature itself, as ever proceeded from the perverted ingenuity of man.” The judgment formed by Dr. Johnson is similar. “The Irish,” said he, “are in a most unnatural state, for we there see the minority prevailing over the majority. There is no instance, even in the Ten Persecutions, of such severity as that which the Protestants of Ireland have exercised against the Catholics.” Mr. Hilaire Belloc (in “First and Last”) says: “The preservation of the Faith by the Irish is an historical miracle, comparable to nothing else fn Europe. There never was, and please God, never can be, so prolonged, and insanely violent a persecution of men by their fellow-men as was undertaken for centuries against the Faith in Ireland: and it has completely failed. I know of no example in history of failure following upon such effort. And so amazing is it that they did not attain their end, that perpetually as one reads one finds the authors of the dreadful business now at one period, now at another, assuming with certitude that their success is achieved. Then, after centuries, it is almost suddenly perceived—and in our own time-that it has not been achieved and never will be.

May I be allowed, in passing, to say it? When one reads, digests, understands, the tragic story of Ireland; when one sees this people “bruised, broken in shards,” creeping at last from the desolate trenches in which for centuries they had withstood the barrage of death, confiscation, and national humiliation, still unsubdued and loyal to the sacred ideals of their traditional Faith-may I be allowed to say it?-if any of my readers has a drop of Irish blood in his veins, he may well he proud of his Irish ancestors. .

A COMPARISON

Now, whenever the Spanish Inquisitors were guilty of cruelty and injustice they deserve to be reprobated, and with all my heart I loathe and condemn any inhumanity that may fairly be laid to their count. But let us not be one-sided in our judgments. When I compare the rigours of Catholic Spain with those of Protestant England, it seems to me claims of Balmez are vindicated. In Spain the measures taken against Jews and Moors, and later against of the doctrines of the Reformation, arose after a historical crisis of almost unprecedented magnitude, and while the nation was obsessed with the problem of self-preservatrion. In England and in other countries that adopted the Reform there was nothing of the kind. The Irish did not menace the existence of England; they were a separate nation; they had every right to manage their own affairs, and, certainly, to practise their traditional religion. The very liberty of belief claimed by the Reformers would seem to entitle the Irish people to adhere to the Faith of their fathers. But no such concession was allowed them. The whole nation as such was outlawed, and, unless it conformed to an alien creed, practically sentenced to death.

When we compare the two Inquisitions the one that operated in Spain and the other that operated for over two centuries in Ireland-and when, moreover, we weigh impartially the circumstances in which each arose and carried on its work, the Spanish, in the comparison, comes out with clean hands.

A FEW FIGURES

How many were sentenced to death in the Spanish Inquisition? Llorente, whose figures have been the most quoted, gives the total as 30,000 for a period of 300 years. No one nowadays accepts Llorente’s figures; indeed, for reasons we cannot now discuss, he must be entirely set aside as a trustworthy historian. Mgr. Landrieux gives the latest German calculations as 10,000 for three centuries. Lower figures are quoted, but probably 10,000 is near the mark.

How many perished in the French Terror during a period of only three years? Vastly more than in all the Inquisitions during more than three centuries. M. Taine, a distinguished authority, gives the following figures in his “Revolution Francaise”: Guillotined, 17,000; shot at Toulon, 2000; drowned at Mantes, men, women, and children, 4800. Then there were the murders by the mob-about 10,000 were killed without trial in the province of Anjou alone. “We may reasonably estimate,” says Taine, “that the number of the dead of all ages and both sexes comes very nearly to half a million.

“Figures such as these, as well as Lecky’s account of the Penal Laws of Ireland, which we have already considered, and other instances that might be given of the persecution of Catholics, justify the challenge of Balmez already referred to; while, coming to our own day, the “War on the Anti-God Front,” in progress at the present moment in Russia, seems to eclipse in its devastating comprehensiveness all the persecutions of the past.

The following passage from “My Magazine,” edited by Arthur Mee, who is also the editor of the well-known “Children’s Encyclopedia,” is not without interest as throwing light on the past. It occurs in an article on Bunyan, author of the “Pilgrim’s Progress,” and represents a state of affairs which, if substantially true, causes the Spanish Inquisition to pale into comparative insignificance. “The England of Bunyan (says the article in question) was devil-ridden and witch-possessed. Prince and peasant believed it; Bunyan and Shakespeare and William Harvey believed it. The king on his throne, the judge on the bench, Cromwell at the head of his army and in the secrecy of his chamber, all believed that Satan stalked the land with agents in every town and, hamlet, sworn to do his will. Any woman upon whom age had laid a heavy hand, any woman with a curious oddity of any sort, was in danger of being burned, hanged, or drowned as a witch. Elizabeth set up a gibbet at Windsor for the execution of anyone who dared to venture there from plague stricken London; James the First had a gibbet, a fire, or a pond ready everywhere for the agents of Satan and workers of mischief.

“When a storm at sea disturbed his royal digestion, James knew that old John Fian had been at work, a malignant Prospero, who, for raising the storm, had his nails torn from their fingers and his limbs crushed to fragments in the presence of the king.

“James was most thorough in his ferocious folly, and caused an Act to be passed, extending over the whole lifetime of Bunyan, which made it an offence punishable with death to remove or conjure up an evil spirit; to consult, covenant with, or feed one; to take up a dead body for use in magic, to seek for treasure or lost or stolen goods, or to injure cattle by means of charms. Before Bunyan died, 70,000 people had been martyred under this Act. Cromwell’s hosts were not more free from this obsession than James and his creatures. Three thousand witches were put to death by Cromwell’s Ironsides, one of them in the still watches of the night before the battle of Naseby.”

CONCLUSION

In these notes on the Inquisition I have endeavoured to throw light on what is really a perplexing problem to modern minds, by referring the earlier and later institutions to the historical contexts which enable us to understand them. The later Inquisition was far more severe than the earlier, and accounted far a greater number of capital sentences. But the Spanish Inquisition is by no means an isolated phenomenon of repression. Moreover, it was connected with special and acute problems, weighted with the memories of 800 years of awful subjection to alien enemies, and the ever-present obsession of a possible recurrence of national disaster. The urgent call for self-preservation may be said, without exaggeration, to have forced the Spanish nation into repressive measures against the Jews and Moors, and later against the advancing peril of the Reformation. This, I think, has been made clear.

But when all is said and done, when we look back to those by-gone days, certain names stand out in golden characters in our recollection of our ancestors of our Faith: Dominic and the other Dominican saints, Francis of Assisi, and the other saintly Franciscans, St. Clare, St. Thomas Aquinas, St. Bonaventure-all of the century in which the first Inquisition was established-and with these we must associate the mighty Dante; and, coming to the period of the later Inquisition, we have the glorious names of St. Ignatius of Loyola, St. Francis Xavier, St. Teresa, St. John of the Cross-all Spaniards—and numerous other men and women of the highest and holiest ideals. These we commemorate; of these we have the happiest recollection; on these we willingly linger; while we only disinter from the past the records of the Inquisitors to examine them as part of a complicated, and, happily, transitional problem of a day that is done. And this is as it ought to be. Because, though the Inquisitors were men engaged in using the stern machinery of the criminal codes of that distant day for what they sincerely regarded as the defence of religion and civil society against the deadly enemies of God and man, still it is in the lives and ideals of those saints who were the contemporaries of the Inquisitors that we find the quintessence of the Catholic spirit by which Catholics strive to square their lives.

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The Inquisition And Early Protestantism In Spain

BY D. G. M. JACKSON

INDEX

PART I

THE “BLACK LEGEND” AND SPANISH CATHOLICISM

THE accusations made against the present Government of Spain in regard to its treatment of Protestants may be regarded as the latest phase of a “black legend” concerning this Catholic country which has been handed on, with accretions, from century to century since the period of the English Reformation, which is also that of the first emergence of modern English nationalism.

That nationalism, in the Elizabethan age, became closely associated with the Protestant cause, whose great opponent in the world of that time was the Catholic Spanish Monarchy. The conflict with Spain in the reign of Philip II, culminating in the victory over the Armada of 1588, has become immortalized in the “national legend” of the English-speaking peoples, both in Great Britain and the New World: so that Spain has come to play the role of the Prince of Darkness in that legend. The savage Protestant intolerance which marked the history of England, Ireland and the English colonies in America till the end of the seventeenth century has passed into oblivion, to a great extent, so far as the non-Catholic general public of these countries is concerned: but the Catholic intolerance of Spain, like the hereticburnings of the unhappy Catholic Queen, “Bloody” Mary Tudor, is recalled frequently by way of denunciation or warning of the horrors of religious bigotry and obscurantism.

One effect of this has been to create an abiding and deep ill-will against Spanish Catholicism, as being stained in a special fashion by the crimes of a past still unrepented. Many who are prepared to think or speak with sympathy of Catholic leaders, or movements in France, or Germany, or Italy will believe nothing but the worst of the Church south of the Pyrenees. Fantastic notions of its “enormous” wealth and power were still set forth by propagandists and believed by educated people during the time of the recent Republic and civil war-a century after the first of a succession of anticlerical confiscation’s which had reduced its clergy and even bishops to the utmost poverty. The ignorance and poverty of the Spaniards were ascribed to the obscurantism and oppression of a clergy which battened on their miseries, instead of to bungling economic policies and to the long-drawn out evils of civil war and unstable government in the nineteenth century. It was assumed that the only Spaniards worthy of the support or sympathy of civilized people were those in revolt against the Church and the Monarchy, who wished to tear down the Bastille of Spanish Catholic tradition and to build all anew: while the defenders of that tradition were automatically denounced as “reactionary bigots” and enemies of the human race.

The Communist propaganda-work, during the Civil War of 1936–1939, had immense advantages from the start, therefore, in disseminating the new “black legend” against Spanish Nationalism and its Catholic leader, Francisco Franco. The soil had been well “conditioned” to receive the latest crop of tares; while the good seed of truth about Spain could gain little hold therein. They had no difficulty in “putting across” the picture of the Spanish Dictator and his supporters as the most sinister and ruthless of “Fascist” reactionaries, stained with every kind of crime: while the mass of atrocities committed by the Republicans were either ignored entirely, or explained away as the “natural” expression of hatred of a freedom loving people maddened by hatred of their oppressors. That false image still holds the field and determines the attitude of British and American democratic leaders as well as their people: and, as one might expect, the policy of the Franco Government towards the tiny minority of Protestants in Spain has been misrepresented so as to fit in with the rest of the picture.

Before dealing with the new legend, therefore, I propose to say something by way of refutation of the older Protestant myth which has given it plausibility, the myth of Imperial Spain as the most monstrously intolerant nation of the Reformation era.

THE INQUISITION -FACT AND FICTION

I am not concerned to defend the purpose or practices of the Spanish Inquisition during the long period of its establishment: but the notion of its exceptional infamy and cruelty is one which cannot be sustained on the evidence. The repression of heresy and infidelity was generally accepted as a political necessity both in Protestant and Catholic Europe in the sixteenth and seventeenth century and even later: the use of punishments like burning, and of judicial torture which is held abominable now-except behind the “Iron Curtain”-were normal in the criminal proceedings of the age: they were neither invented, nor developed further, by the Spanish Inquisition.

The modern Spanish liberal historian, Salvador de Madariaga, in his history of Spanish America, has drawn some interesting comparisons between the practice of the Inquisition and that of other persecutors of the period. He points out that the proportion of those condemned to death by its Courts in comparison with the numbers of those accused was about one per cent. In three centuries of the history of the Indies-a continent with a population as large as that of England and Spain combined, the number of fatal victims of the Inquisition “stands nearer to sixty than to a hundred” on his reckoning. He compares this with the five hundred victims slain in English religious persecutions, Catholic and Protestant, during the century of Tudor rule. And along with these he reckons the deaths in the witchcraft trials of the Stuart period, in which the average is nineteen per cent of prosecutions throughout and forty-one per cent in the first four years of James I.

THE WITCHCRAFT PERSECUTIONS

The most moderate estimate of executions for the supposed crime of sorcery between 1542 and 1738 at just short of a thousand -which means that England hanged proportionally thirty to fifty times more people for witchcraft in that period than the numbers burned for heresy in the Indies. In Scotland and New England the witch-burning mania was far more rampant; the judicial methods employed were farcical in comparison with the careful process of the Inquisition: and the carnage was appalling during the outbursts of superstitious terrorism. Torture was used as the chief instrument of inquiry in both countries. In Sweden, France and Germany the persecution of witches was far more rampant from the fifteenth century onwards—that is, during the age of the Renaissance and Reformation—than it had ever been in the Middle Ages: and in Germany the number of slaughtered victims must have risen to tens of thousands. To this we must add, in all these countries, the huge number who languished in gaol for long periods at a time when such a punishment frequently meant death in a more lingering form.

The persecuting laws were operative against Catholics in England and Ireland from the age of Elizabeth until 1778, and imprisonment under them was fairly frequent in the seventeenth century, while the chain of martyrdom’s beginning with the reign of the “Virgin Queen” only ends with the “Popish Plot” era in the reign of Charles II, more than a century later. Nor were Catholics the only ones to suffer; for the old heresy code was still occasionally applied to other religious dissidents, as well as new repressive penal legislation in favour of the Anglican Church.

As regard s witchcraft, it is worth noticing that the Spanish Inquisition seldom punished it with death, and “seems to have looked upon it as a crime to be branded mostly with ridicule.” In the Indies, where sorcery was rampant, there were few prosecutions for it and no executions at all.

THE AUTOS DA FE

The name “Auto Da Fe” (Act of Faith) is associated commonly with the burning of heretics both in the popular myth and even the ideas of the educated. The two things, however, as the historian Trevor Davies has pointed out, were in reality completely distinct. The Auto was a solemn public announcement of the sentences of the Inquisition, in an elaborate scene representing the Day of Judgement in a dramatic way, and inculcating the hideousness of heresy. The burnings (if any) were carried out by the secular authorities at the ordinary place of public execution, and were not part of the ceremony at all.

The number of baptized Jews and Mohammedans who fell into the hands of the Inquisition in Spain in the first half-century of its existence-the period of its most intensive activity against the Morisco “fifth column”-cannot be reliably estimated, according to Trevor Davies. “It must have been enormous,” he says: but he adds that the sacrifice was demanded by “zeal for racial purity and monarchical power much more than religious fervour.” How many of these were burned?

The figure of 10,220 under Torquemada, given by Llorente, is not now taken seriously by any critical historianthough still quoted occasionally by sectarians and by the ignorant. Father Thurston, S.J., a careful and critical authority, reduces it to about two thousands. Trevor Davies writes that “the number of persons burnt alive in Spain was surprisingly small-smaller, perhaps, than in other countries such as England where offences of a non-religious character were punishable by burning.”

Even the strongly antiCatholic Lea writes: “There is no question that the number of burnings has been greatly exaggerated in popular belief-an exaggeration to which Llorente has largely contributed by his absurd method of computation.” He points out, too, that “in the vast majority of cases” the victims were not burnt alive, but strangled beforehand.

I repeat that all this is not cited to excuse the evil deeds of the Spanish monarchy, in which the Spanish Church was involved as an accomplice, through its close and dependent alliance with the Crown. It is purely to set in due proportion a side of Spanish life which has been distorted out of all proportion by the propaganda ofSpain’s enemies and those who hate her Faith. The blot of intolerance on the escutcheon of Spain may be grave enough: but it is not to be compared with that incurred by a number of her European neighbours at the same time-for instance, by the English Government of Elizabeth in Ireland, where Catholics were persecuted with a ferocity remarkable even in the sixteenth century.

THE INQUISITION AND PROTESTANTISM

The machinery of the Inquisition was naturally employed by the State authorities of Spain when the first signs of Protestantism appeared in the country in the sixteenth century: for, like almost all other political rulers of Christendom at this period, those of Spain held the current view that religious dissidence was a danger to social unity and peace, and involved revolt against lawful authority. Dread of this was especially vivid in Spain, in view of the horrid examples of religious war both in France and in the Netherlands, where Calvinism in particular had displayed violent revolutionary tendencies. The danger feared under the Emperor Charles V and King Philip II was that heresy might become associated with factious movements among the nobility, or that its professors might join hands with the Moslem “underground” and the Grand Turk.

The first Protestant suspect appeared before the Inquisition at Seville in the year 1580. He was a cleric of some eminence, Dr. Egidius, a Canon who had been a former favourite of the Emperor. The sentence was a lenient one: public abjuration, a year’s imprisonment and a further year of ecclesiastical suspension. In 1577 a nest of secret Protestants was discovered in the same city, through a mistake in the delivery of a heretical pamphlet “IMAGEN DE ANTICHRISTO.” This pamphlet, by the way, displayed the intense hatred of Catholicism, which has always been a feature of Protestant propaganda in Spain-its frontispiece showed the Pope kneeling before Satan. Over a hundred arrests were made, chiefly of clergy, monks and nuns, of whom sixteen were subsequently burnt-nearly all dead, since they recanted before execution. A further batch of thirty-three was sentenced to various penalties in 1562: nine being condemned to death. Once again, however, only their dead bodies were consumed in the fire, since they had reverted to Catholicism. In the North, Valladolid was a centre of Protestant propaganda: among early adherents to the Reform was another of Charles V”s clergy, Dr. Cazalla, who had travelled with the Emperor in Germany. He was discovered, along with a small group of other Protestants, in 1558, and they all abjured at Madrid in an Auto da Fe of the following year, except one, Herrenzuelo, who died in the fire. Some fourteen prisoners were “relaxed to the secular arm” by the Inquisition on this occasion, nearly all Protestants: sixteen others-including Baker, an Englishman, did penance. Later in the same year (1559) twentyfive Protestants appeared at an “Auto” in the presence of King Philip II himself. Thirteen were reconciled, the rest being handed over to the State authorities for execution. Two refused to recant and were burnt alive, one, a noble Italian, Don Carlos de Seso, showing heroic fortitude: he had already suffered torture. Nine years later, Leonor de Cisneros, the widow of Herrenzuela who had relapsed to Protestantism after a former recantation, also perished in the fire (1568).

With this unhappy lady’s death, the last spark of native Protestantism in Spain was virtuall y quenched. Thereafter, the stray Protestants who fell into the hands of the Inquisition seem to have been foreigners, mostly traders. The chief effect of the discoveries in the twenty years from 1550 on was to strengthen the hand of the Inquisition with a view to averting a war of religion.

So much for Spanish Protestantism during the Reformation era. In the second Part of this pamphlet my task will be to discuss the Protestant bodies which exist in Spain at the present time, and the attitude of the Government of General Franco towards them.

PART II

PROTESTANTISM IN SPAIN TODAY

During recent years, especially when the policy of the democratic nations and U.N.O towards Spain has come under discussion in the press and in political assemblies, reports havebeen published on the “oppression” of Protestantism under the present regime. Their burden is to the effect that the Spanish Protestants form an “oppressed minority” who are persecuted systematically by the clergy and the civil authorities. Items cited are that they are forbidden legal recognition of their marriages: that they are denied proper cemeteries for their dead: that they are banned from admission to public office: that Protestant soldiers have been punished for refusal to attend Catholic ceremonies, and to these could be added a long list of others. What is the truth about these allegations, which have aroused indignation among Protestants, and have embarrassed Catholics, who have alleged “facts” about Spain flung in their teeth when they speak about the persecutions of their own faith conducted by communist rulers in East Europe and in China?

THE PROTESTANT MINORITY -SOME DATA

To begin with, let us look at the size of the problem. The number of Spanish Protestants is not easy to calculate accurately, since neither the Catholic Church nor the Spanish Government has attempted to make any accurate enquiries, and there seems to be no clear definition as yet about what is to be held as constituting the profession of Protestantism. The figures given in the foreign press differ widely-ranging between four thousand and thirty thousand. In the New York Times the number was stated as about fifteen thousand in the issue of November 24, 1947: by September 20, next year, it had apparently risen to thirty thousand. In 1949 (May 13), the Catholic Herald (English) mentioned the figure of twenty-eight thousand, an estimate enormously in excess of that usually given in Catholic journals. Spanish authorities, who are in a better position to know the truth, generally give a figure near the lowest level of those quoted. The report of the Catholic Episcopal Curias in 1949 reckons that the number of genuine Spanish Protestants ranges between two and three thousand. The only recent statistics which I know of from a Protestant source are dated in 1933, and appear in a book called “Religion in the Republic of Spain,” by Pastors Araujo and Grubb. They give 21,900 as registered in various Evangelical bodies of whom 6,259 are “practicing.” At that time, of course, there were no restrictions whatever on Protestant worship and propaganda in Spain. If we distinguish Spanish Protestants from the foreign born, the wide difference between the estimates would probably be accounted for.

It would be fair to take 20,000 as a reasonable estimate of Protestant numbers, reckoning half of these as Spanish, which is a very liberal allowance. The population of Spain in 1948 was, in round figures, 28 millions; which means that the total proportion of Protestants resident in Spain to the rest of the population is 0.072 per cent. Even if this tiny group were in reality subjected to social injustices and penalties of a serious kind, it would be ridiculous to compare the offence with the massive persecutions in East Europe, in which the religion of the vast majority is involved in such countries as Poland, Hungary and Slovakia.

As to where the small Protestant nucleus is situated-again, exact data are not available. It seems clear, however, that more than half is composed of farming and seafaring people—there are fairly old communities in Minorca (once a British possession) and in Galicia. The other half consists mainly of poor people in the larger cities with a sprinkling of the middleclass. The “intolerance” alleged to be shown towards Protestants in the armed forces affects at the highest figure imaginable some 365 soldiers, sailors and airmen among the million Spaniards mobilized.

The classification of Spanish Protestants by churches is not easy: but a summary and somewhat superficial classification has been made in the Official Service of Religious and Cultural Associations, with an eye to local convenience, and according to the foreign Protestant organization maintaining these churches. The number of chapels or church buildings maintained by Protestants in 1950 was approximately 207.

The total number of professional Protestant clergy, of all confessions, is 117, of whom forty-one at least are foreigners by origin or nationality. In some congregations, however, the conduct of services is carried out by lay “Elders.” It may be interesting to compare the facilities available for Catholic and Protestant worship with the number of those for whom they are provided. Protestants have a place of worship for every seventy-six of their membership as estimated -or every thirty-eight if we consider only Spaniards: and they have a minister for every 170. In the case of the rest of the Catholic nation, even if we take the number of Church buildings of all kinds before the destruction of the civil war the number works out at only one place of worship for 679 people: while, taking the absolute total of Catholic clergy, 31,085 (Annuario, 1950) it comes to one for every 900. Both as regards premises and personnel, in fact, the “persecuted” Protestant bodies are better served than the Catholics!

PROTESTANTISM AND “FREEDOM OF CONSCIENCE” (1830 -1931) Apart from the small Anglican community in Minorca, the history of modern Spanish Protestantism begins about 1830: and its origins are British. The development of British trade and finance in Spain during the nineteenth century led to the establishment there of many Protestant foreigners, who prompted the opening of places of worship and the immigration of ministers to serve their requirements. Thereafter, serious consideration began to be given to the hope of rescuing the Spanish population itself from the “errors of Popery.” Both for historical and psychological reasons, however, the efforts made in this direction bore little fruit. In his famous book “The Bible in Spain,” George Borrow tells the story of his own failures as a missionary in this early period: the same experience is recounted by Richard Ford, who wrote, in his “Handbook to Spain,” that “the whole nation is divided into two classes, bigoted Romanists and infidels: there is no middle way.” Other Protestant preachers have formed the same conclusion. Among modern writers, the Anglican Hispanic scholar Professor Allison Peers discerns an “instinctive aversion” in the Spaniard from Protestantism; while the Catholic American, Richard Pattee, refers to “the instinctive, almost atavistic rejection of a system of thought and religious way of life utterly alien to every Spaniard, past and present.”

The Spanish Constitution of 1856 laid down that nobody could be persecuted for his religious opinions so long as he did not give them the character of acts opposed to the religious idea itself: the latter provision was directed against the militant activities of antireligious “freethinkers,” who had been attacking the Church with increasing vigour during the century, and had inspired the policies which stripped her of all her inherited property in 1836. It is, in fact, the “problem” of these enemies, and not the activities of a rival religious confession or confessions, which has always been the main concern of the Church and Catholic Governments in Modern Spain.

In 1869 came the First Republic, which provided, in its Constitution, for the completely free practice of their worship by non-Catholic foreigners-and Spaniards, too- “if any such exist” are to enjoy the same full liberty.

The restored Monarchy, in 1376, laid down the formula that, while Catholicism was the official religion of Spain, the free private practice of religious worship was guaranteed to all without exception. This situation remained until the downfall of Alfonso XIII in 1931 brought up in a violent form, not the question of “religious freedom” as we understand it in Australia, but that of the status and legal position of the Catholic Church in Spain. This has been constantly challenged by elements hostile to all religious faith, the rationalistic radicals of the last century and the Marxists and anarchists of our own time.

PROTESTANTISM UNDER THE REPUBLIC AND CIVIL WAR Under the inspiration of these anti-Christian forces, the first step towards the full secularization of the Spanish state and culture was taken in Article 27 of the Constitution of the second Spanish Republic, which granted full freedom of conscience to all, but ruled that all worship must be private unless special permission were granted by the authorities for a public manifestation of religious faith. This article gave to any authorities hostile to the Church the power to put an end to the processions and Catholic demonstrations of varied kinds which have been a traditional feature of the people’s life for ages.

Actually, the war against the Catholic religion began less than a month after the proclamation of the Republic, with the burning by terror-gangs of churches, convents and other Catholic institutions which spread from Madrid to the provinces, in the course of which many art treasures were destroyed. This sort of thing recurred again, with interludes of relative calm, during the period between 1931 and the beginning of the Civil War: and there is ample evidence that the authorities and party leaders connived at this violence and even openly encouraged it, as a means of breaking down the power of the Church. During this period, the handful of Spanish Protestants made no attempt to protest at the savageries and destruction loosed against their Catholic fellow-Christians. They had hailed the Republic with joy, hoping that its advent would provide fresh opportunities for their propaganda: and they continued the firm friends of the “Left-Wing” groups responsible for the terror even to the last.

On January 30, 1936, when there could not be the least doubt of the atheist militant fanaticism dominant in the counsels of the Left, the Chairman of the Alliance of Evangelical Churches publicly recommended his people to vote for the Left Wing “Popular Front” in a manifesto which aligned the Protestant Churches authorities definitely on their side. The harm done by this was later explicitly recognized by the same body which declared “many of the churches and many of the brethren have had to pay dearly for this close association with Leftist elements who could not fail in the long run to do injury toour cause.”

There is nothing surprising about the attitude of the Spanish Protestants, to be sure: for, as Pastor Brutsch of Geneva pointed out in his book “The Gospel of Christ: Murdered Spain and Ourselves,” one of the characteristics of Spanish Protestantism is that it is anti-Catholic. The Protestant world in general, where it did not actively line up with the Spanish enemies of Christianity, at least showed a complacent indifference to the martyrdom of the Church. Here and there, individual voices were raised, but not a single non-Catholic religious organization protested against a systematic and concentrated persecution of incomparable brutality whose aim was to root God out of the minds and hearts of the Spanish people. If Protestantism today suffers more than ever from the profound repugnance of all classes of nation, the memories of the part played by its adherents in days of sorrow, bitterness and fear are largely accountable for this fact.

There were, to be sure, some shining exceptions to the attitude we have described. Even in Spain, there were cases of Protestants who gave help to hunted priests during the Civil War. They had good reason, however, to fear the consequences of the victory of those who stood for the uncompromising Catholic tradition of Spain, and who had small reason for affection towards the “liberalism” which had brought such dire consequences in its train.

THE FRANCO GOVERNMENT AND RELIGION

The “Spaniards” Charter” in 1945 proved, however, to be astonishingly moderate in the circumstances. In substance, the situation of “76 was restored-Catholicism being established, with sole right to public ceremonies or manifestations, but the private practice of other religions being permitted. The extreme Right-the Carlists-protested against the concessions granted: but they were approved by the Holy See and the Spanish Hierarchy and clergy. The Protestants themselves hailed the arrangement as a victory, enabling them to claim a legal basis, even though restricted, for their evangelical work. Indeed, the Bulletin of the Spanish Evangelical Church proclaimed that the “Hand of God” was to be discerned in this alteration of their circumstances.

Controversy arose over the interpretation of the term “private worship”; which was defined, in November 1945, as “that which is held inside a place of worship, a meeting or a cemetery”: demonstrations or advertisements on the public highway being prohibited. The new rulers showed a good deal of indulgence in issuing permits for places of dissident worship . . . and some times waived insistence upon permits at all, allowing Church bodies to act on their own authority, as is admitted in the Evangelical Church bulletin. Old churches and chapels were reopened, and new ones established to meet the needs of communities. Not only this, but propaganda centres were actually set up in Catholic places which contained not a single Protestant. Of one of these the review “Life of Faith” announced joyfully in August, 1947, that it had drawn a congregation of some fifty persons between its opening in November, 1946, and that time, of whom twenty had declared themselves converts. “The same is going on all over Spain. The authorities appear favourably disposed.”

This activity, of course, was illegal under the terms of the Charter: and it has often been conducted in an aggressive and provocative manner. That of the Adventists-financed from America-was mentioned by one minister as especially offensive. Among many events, one recorded by Mr. B. Hallstrom, a Swedish journalist, was especially exasperating to Catholics. Under cover of one of the “Bible Days” organized by the Spanish Hierarchy to encourage the reading of Scripture, a number of young Protestants sold Protestant versions of the Bible, as well as distributing anti-Catholic tracts, disguised so as to appear to be Catholic pamphlets. In order to understand the indignation aroused by actions of this kind, it must be realized that Protestant propaganda commonly selects for attack features of Catholicism which are especially dear to Spaniards, in particular the cultus of Our Lady, who has shrines and sacred images dotted all over the country, and is regarded as a sort of “national heroine.” When a deep sentiment of devotion-like this is deliberately outraged-when the veneration of the Saints and of their holy images is crudely denounced as”idolatry” by those who are as ignorant of Catholic things as they are insulting—when the Church of Spain is described as apostate, and they find themselves treated by alien propagandists as a heathen people to whom “the Gospel” is unknown, is it astonishing that the anger of a passionate and proud Christian nation is occasionally aroused to fever heat, so that “incidents” take place? And to this we must add the association between the Protestants and the anti-Catholic fanatics of the Republic who slaughtered thousands of clergy and religious, and untold numbers of the faithful, and carried fire and ruin through her holy places. Finally, there is a not unnatural readiness to believe that this association still continues—that Protestant gatherings are made useof by revolutionary “underground” elements for their own sinister purposes. Hence demands such as that of Cardinal Segura of Seville-a stalwart traditionally devoted to the Monarchy, but holding aloof from politics-that there shall be no more authorization for the opening of “centres of a false religion” which are also centres of insult and hostility towards the Catholic Faith and the nation.

SOME ANTIPROTESTANT “INCIDENTS”

The most serious “incidents” of anti-Protestant attack took place in 1947. At Granollers, a religious service of the Baptists was raided by the Carlists, who smashed the furniture and seized and burnt some anti-Catholic propaganda which was being distributed, including a pamphlet “Pepa Y La Virgen” which was regarded as grossly insulting to the Mother of God. In this town the Catholic churches had been burnt in the Civil War: the premises in which the chapel were set up had been sublet without the permission of their owners, the widow and son of a Carlist who had been murdered by the Republicans. The police immediately restored order, however; the damage was paid for, and Protestant services have since continued without further trouble in the Granollers chapel. At Barcelona, a party of thirty uniformed “Requetes” (Carlist) attacked a Methodist chapel, smashed the furniture and overturned a harmonium and piano. The chapel was not occupied at the time. Those responsible for the act were reprimanded by the Church authorities, and also prosecuted and made to pay for the damage. Finally, in Madrid, there was an attack on the recently opened British-owned chapel in the Calle De Trafalgar, which is the largest Protestant church in Spain. The minister was an ardent anti-Catholic propagandist, and was generally held responsible for a pamphlet highly offensive in regard to Our Lady. On the evening of October 31, a party of young Catholics forced their way in, in order to sing the “Salve Regina” by way of protest. Meeting with a justified resistance, they smashed some furniture and windows, and “made hay” generally. Once more the police intervened, those responsible were arrested and punished and the damage made good.

While admitting that the authorities acted correctly in these cases, some foreigners have laid blame for them on the Spanish bishops. This is wholly unjust. The extent of the Episcopal action has been to protest against the extension of facilities for Protestant worship which are already more than adequate, and to complain of the type of propaganda indulged in by some of the sects, in particular the Adventists. If they had given the smallest incitement to violence, the result would not have been restricted to small incidents of the kind we have described! Paul P. Kennelly, of the New York Times, has admitted that there is no evidence whatever that these sporadic acts of vandalism had been instigated by the authorities in Church or State, or that they were in any way related to a “pattern” of violence. (December 25, 1948.)

In passing, it may be worth while “nailing to the counter” a commo n lie current about the Bible in Spain. Actually, Spain has had translated scriptures since the fifteenth century, and today many excellent Catholic vernacular versions are obtainable at a cheap rate in bookshops, and are sold in very large quantities. They contain the full text of Old and New Testament without omissions or suppressions of any kind. Those who disseminate Protestant versions, therefore, are not supplying a public want of the Christian population in any sense: nor have these versions any merit.

ECONOMIC BASIS OF PROTESTANTISM

One of the most offensive features about the local Protestant bodies in the sight of Spaniards is the lavish economic support which they receive from alien organizations violently hostile to Spain: and this has been especially galling at a time when the country has been exposed to discrimination of a most painful kind against it in the matter of trade and financial assistance. It is this large-scale assistance from abroad which has made possible the great outlay on places of worship, paid ministers, propaganda, real estate investments and so on, of Church groups whose Spanish membership consists of tiny handfuls of people, usually poor. Since the Civil War, the amount of property owned by the bodies supporting Spanish Protestantism has largely increased. Places of worship are commonly foreign-owned, and the “economic interests” of the companies in which proprietorship is vested have sometimes been the subject of intervention by diplomatic missions accredited to Madrid. This situation led to a curious complication a few years ago, over the position of a “German Real Property Company” whose possessions were to be sold under a new Spanish security law, and the proceeds handed to the owners, German residents in Spain. The matter involved the terms of an agreement made in 1948 between Spain and three Western Powers, Britain, France and U.S.A. for the solution of the problem of German investments in Spain. It came out that the Company in question was only part of the economic machine of Protestantism in Spain: and when effect was given to the Act, passed as the result of an international agreement, there was an outcry about the claims of Protestants and the conduct of the Spanish authorities, which reached as far as the British Parliament-somewhat to the embarrassment of the then Foreign Secretary, Mr. Ernest Bevin.

PROTESTANTS AND EDUCATION

The Law of Primary Education in Spain affords one of the grounds for Protestant allegations of religious oppression. It lays, down the principle that a Spanish Catholic “religious and patriotic formation” is to be provided through the educational system for all Spanish children. True, it allows these children to be accepted as students in the foreign schools established for foreign children, which are authorized on a basis of reciprocity with the nation to which they belong. The rule is, however, that such schools must have certain cultural subjects-religion, civics, geography and history of Spain, as well as the Spanish language-taught to these Spanish children by Spaniards, under the conditions laid down for the public schools of the State. So far as the foreign children are concerned, no regulation is laid down at all.

In Spanish State schools and private schools alike, the Catholic doctrine is part of the curriculum. This is in accordance with the desire of the overwhelming number of those who pay for them, who are themselves Catholics, and hold that Catholic teaching is fundamental to the inculcation of sound citizenship and Spanish culture. It would, indeed, be ridiculous if the general Christian culture demanded by the consciences of the vast majority were left incomplete in order to “spare the consciences” of 0.072 per cent! Actually, the secular school in Spain has never been “neutral” in spirit: it has always been a weapon of de-Christianization in the hands of enemies of the Faith. For the rest, the teacher in a “non-sectarian” school in Spain could hardly explain to his pupils the history or civilization of their country, or the great monuments of her past, or even the life of the present age; and he could not inculcate any kind of ethical principles without relation to those of the Church from which the nation has taken its traditional code of social duty, justice and charity.

Actually, the authorization given to non-Catholic foreign schools is interpreted so laxly that in Madrid and Barcelona Protestant schools of a definitely propagandist character are maintained by foreign funds, and no obstacle is placed to their operation by the authorities or to the reception of Protestant religious instruction by their Spanish pupils. (See H. S. Leiper: “Christianity Today”: a survey of the state of the Churches.) In places where no such schools exist, Protestant children naturally have to go to the ordinary Catholic public ones, since it is clearly impossible for either the Government or foreign patrons to establish special Protestant schools for every group of two or three children! As regards secondary, technical and higher educational institutions, no declaration of faith is demanded either by Institutes (gimnasios) or higher schools or Universities: and no direct religious instruction is given apart from the faculties of theology. Here, therefore, there can be no question of “hostile discrimination” against Protestants. A seminary for the training of Protestant ministers has been established in Madrid without objection.

It may be added that the State authority’s demand that Spanish children should possess a knowledge of the Catholic religion and culture of their nation in no sense means that it is legally required of them to adhere to Catholic beliefs or practices against the wish of their parents.

A SCANDINAVIAN COMPARISON WITH SPAIN

It may be of interest to compare the Spanish educational regulations with those prevailing in certain lands of Protestant culture which are generally regarded as among the world’s most enlightened and democratic. In Sweden, the Catholic population is in about the same proportion to the whole as the Protestant population in Spain, being 0.077 per cent: and, as in Spain, almost the whole nation adheres to the established Lutheran Church, at least in name. Here as in Spain, religion is obligatory in the elementary schools: in the sixth grade, the law requires the reading of “Luther’s Short Catechism” as an historical document of Luther’s interpretation of the principal tenets of Christianity. No teachers can be appointed who are not members of the State Church: Catholics and other minorities are not permitted to establish their own schools. For private schools, permission has to be obtained from the local school board, and this is granted on condition that the head of the school is a member of the Lutheran State Church. (These terms are far more rigorous than those in Spain are, as will be easily seen). In Norway, (Catholic population one per cent) the Primary Education law calls for a knowledge of Bible History, Church History and the Christian Catechism according to the Episcopal Lutheran Church, as the aim of instruction in the Christian religion. Yet these two countries have never suffered any international attack on account of the privileges given to their State Churches in the cultural sphere.

We may note in passing that in the Protectorate of Morocco, where the Spanish authorities have a large population of Jewish and Moslem subjects, these people have their own schools, some of which enjoy State support.

PROTESTANT MARRIAGES AND BURIALS

In regard to marriage, complaints have been made that non-Catholics are obliged to marry before a Catholic priest under the existing law. In fact, the situation is exactly the same as that which proceeded the Republican era. Catholics are married before a Catholic priest: non-Catholics before a civil judge. The trouble arises from the fact that the State regards everyone with a Catholic baptismal registration as being “Catholic” for the purposes of the law, which has led to vexation in some cases, while “mixed” marriages are contracted under the principles laid down in the Church’s Canon Law.

In the matter of the burial of non-Catholics, a number of absurdities have been given currency, such as that of a certain Mrs. Bieler, who wrote in the United Church Observer that Protestants were buried in any sort of abandoned place. The fact is that in every Spanish town, a zone in the cemetery is bound to be reserved for non-Catholics, according to the Canon Law of the Church itself. (Canon 1212.) There is a Civil Cemetery in every important Spanish city: and there are what are usually styled “British Cemeteries” in a number of ports and cities frequented by foreigners. True, in many small towns and villages the “civil” cemetery does not, in practice, exist: but when we consider how tiny the Protestant death rate is, and the fact that half of these deaths are those of foreigners, who nearly always dwell in large cities, the ground for serious criticism is not very substantial. It sometimes happens, however, that a body has to be conveyed to a neighbouring cemetery; there was one unhappy case in 1947 where a dead person-according to Protestant testimony-had to be buried in a field in a small village of the Albacete Province.

NO PROFESSIONAL ANTI-PROTESTANT DISCRIMINATION

In professional life, the only legal restriction on non-Catholics is that imposed by the Catholic character of the public primary schools, which means that their teachers must be adherents of the national religion. Apart from this, no one is barred by the fact of being Protestant from entering any profession or officially regulated post. What happens is that, on account of the social and intellectual level of most of the tiny band of truly Spanish Protestants, it is rare for any of them to enter for the public competitive examinations for official posts—or professions. The best-educated Protestants are commonly ministers” sons who become ministers—for example, the Cabrera family in Madrid. There are one or two examples, however, of Protestants in professional life, such as Dr. Aranjo, Professor of Mathematics at Saragossa University.

It has been complained that in orphanages, asylums, hospitals, etc., all inmates are compelled to attend Catholic services, as well as in the Army and the prisons. What is the truth about this? Spaniards, it is true, are much addicted to collective worship; and their institutions, like the State, are officially Catholic. The rule is, however, that Protestants are to be excused from collective worship if they make their status known. This does not mean that every officer, superior, guardian, nurse or hospital sister invariably observes instructions: there are official abuses due to injudicious and unintelligent zeal, in Spain as in other lands. Oppressive acts of this sort, however, are discountenanced both by Church and State authorities. Their attitude is expressed by the Bishop of Barcelona, a diocese with a larger number of foreigners and Protestants than any other. “One dies for the Faith: but the Faith persecutes no one, nor is it imposed by force” says Monsignor Casaus: and he exhorts Catholics to treat foreign and native Protestants with nothing but the most considerate charity.

THE SOLDIER WHO WOULDN’T SALUTE

The Spanish armed forces take part in public religious acts: it is accordingly, part of the soldier’s normal duty to parade for these, and no exception is made for the 350 or so Protestants who may be serving in the three armed forces at any particular time. No soldier, or sailor, however, is ever made to attend any religious ceremony in his private capacity. A single case of “persecution” in the army has been made the basis of a campaign of insult and defamation against Spain. The facts are as follows. One Protestant soldier, in a military formation drawn up as a guard of honour at a Catholic procession, refused to obey his officer’s orders to present arms when the Blessed Sacrament passed by. He was punished for this act of public indiscipline by a short term of imprisonment, under the military Code applicable to disobedience to an officer on armed service. It was, in my opinion, oppressive and tactless to enforce the Code rigorously in this case, and the course of wisdom and charity would be to avoid the recurrence of the situation by keeping Protestants away from such occasions. Once the incident had occurred, however, it would have been very dangerous, from the point of military discipline, to allow the soldier’s open disobedience to pass unnoticed or unrebuked: and no army in the world would tolerate such conduct.

CONCLUSION

To a Protestant, it is inevitable that any restriction on his religious life and propaganda should appear harsh and unjust: and, if he is a man of fervent faith and apostolic zeal, he may well think it his duty to raise the “sign of contradiction” in the Name of God. On the other side, the authorities of a Catholic State will reply that the Faith of the people is a treasure of incomparable worth, which it is their duty to guard and maintain for the sake of the “common good.”

The restrictions placed upon their worship and propaganda are mildly applied, as we have seen. They enjoy very substantial freedoms as regards the printing and distribution of literature-leaflets, tracts and books, including the Scriptures-among their own community. If their external action among Catholics were not checked in any way, it would arouse an indignation, which would be dangerous to themselves as well as to the public peace. If they were not, at times, victimized unjustly on account of the prejudice against them, it would be a miracle, in view of the nature of man in general, and of passionate Spanish man in particular. They often suffer, too, from Catholic bigotry and ignorance about Protestantism which matches that of their own propagandists in dispersing heat and smoke rather than the light of truth and the spirit of Christian love.

But it is the height of absurdity that this small body of dissidents, with all the liberties and protection it enjoys, alongwith more than ample provision for its requirement, should be the favourite theme of diatribes against “Spanish intolerance,” uttered, most commonly, by sectarians who have remained strangely silent in face of the savage anti- Christian persecutions in East Europe, when they have not gone so far as to justify the Red oppressors of the Faith there!

Our Lord had some bitter words to say about the Pharisees who “strain at a gnat and swallow a camel.” They are words which those who cry out about the “persecution” in Catholic Spain would do well to re-read, before searching their consciences to see to whom they apply!

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The Inspiration of The Bible

REV. ALBERT POWER; S.J

INDEX

IF one were to reckon up and estimate carefully all the various influences which have played a part in the moulding of the Christian mind and character, and in the development of our modern civilisation, perhaps the most important of these influences would prove to be the belief of mankind in the inspiration of the Bible.

Think for a moment of the part the Bible played in the world of pre-Christian thought. For hundreds of years before Christ came, the Books of the Old Testament, as we call them, were the source whence the Jews, both in Palestine and in their various scattered communities, drew their religious knowledge. The Hebrew Bible, and in later days the Greek Septuagint Version, was the text book for children in their schools, their Book of Liturgy for the services in the Synagogue, their Ritual for the divine worship in the Temple of Jerusalem.

When Christ came He adopted this Jewish Bible, and completed it by adding to it His own divine wisdom: for the second part of the Bible, which we call the New Testament, is the record of the life, thoughts, and teaching of Jesus of Nazareth, along with the story of how His teaching and Personality affected the world around Him. From the days of Christ to our own, no book can be mentioned that has exercised suchextraordinary influence over men’s minds as this collection of writings.

THE BIBLE IN THE CATHOLIC CHURCH

In the Catholic Church the Bible has ever been the foundation of all other religious books whatsoever. The Missal, or Book for the Celebration of Mass, is, almost entirely, a collection of passages or citations from the Bible, both Old and New Testaments. The Office Book, or Breviary, .in like manner, consists mainly of the Psalms and Commentaries on the Gospels. Her books of devotion, the writings of the Fathers, the theological treatises of the Doctors and Schoolmen, the apologetic writings and sermons of her preachers, are all of them founded upon, interwoven with, the thoughts, sentiments, and language of the Bible.

One significant fact shows the position which the Bible held in the religious life of the Church. When printing was invented, about the year 1450, the first book printed was the Vulgate, or Latin Bible, and within 50 years no less than one hundred and fifty editions of the Latin Vulgate had issued from the printing presses of Europe.*

Books are produced to meet the demands of the public; and we know that if a book is repeatedly issued, it shows the public wants it.

THE “REFORMATION.”

At the time of the great religious upheaval of the 16th century, when other doctrines and dogmas were flung to the winds, faith in the Bible as the Word of God, and the one reliable source of religious information, was trumpeted forth as the principle on which the great “Reform” was to be based. Hence, a new impetus was given to the priming and reading of the Bible; new translations were produced, not always too faithful, it is true; and many strange liberties were taken with the text, whole books being sometimes cut out as uncanonical merely at the whim of a reforming editor. Luther, e.g., disliked the Catholic Epistle ofSt. James; because St. James” clear teaching about the necessity of good works clashed with Luther’s doctrine about salvation by faith alone; so he called it an “epistle of straw,” and rejected it from his Bible.

But still, for the time being, the printing and study of the Bible in the vernacular was greatly increased, and the Sacred Books became the staple reading of millions of folk all over the world.

We shall see that this new-found zeal and fervour about the Bible was in reality a snare, leading men in the end to reject the Bible altogether. It happens to nations as it happens to individuals-an exaggerated and unreasoning adhesion to one idea generally leads to a violentreaction in the opposite direction. Like Shakespeare’s character, those Protestants * See Grannan, “General Introduction to the Bible.” Vol. 1. P. 137

“protested so much” about their love and reverence for the Bible that one suspected their motive and time has justifi ed the apprehension, for now, alas! even the authorised ministers and preachers of the reformed religions are publicly calling in question the inspiration and divine character of the Bible, and actually regard the idea of its being an inspired book as one of those superstitions which must be discarded in the advancing light of scientific knowledge. However, this rationalistic attitude is largely the product of the past hundred years or so, and it is safe to state that up to the 19th century no book at all can be compared with the Bible in the influence it exercised on the thoughts and principles and lives of mankind.

SECRET OF INFLUENCE OF THE BIBLE

What is the secret of this influence? How has the Bible secured this unique position in the estimation of the civilised world? The answer is a simple one: because men regarded the Bible as an inspired book, as a set of writings produced under the action of the Holy Ghost; so that in those books, they believed that they possessed a collection of God’s own thoughts; of truths of morality and religion which God wished to place at the disposal of mankind for its guidance and instruction. In other words, the Bible was the only authentic book of information we possess about God and; the things of the other world.

ITS ANSWER TO THE RIDDLE OF LIFE

The question of man’s destiny is the supreme problem of life, compared with which all other problems pale into insignificance. Modern unbelievers tell us that the problem is insoluble. There is no answer to the Riddle of the Universe. “Hence, let us eat, drink and be merry, for tomorrow we die.” The Bible is occupied with this problem of man’s destiny, and claims to offer a definite solution, and claims that it is a true solution, inasmuch as it is supplied by the Master of all problems, God Himself. And it is because a great multitude of mankind accepted that claim as genuine, and believed the Bible to be in very truth God’s teaching about the soul and its destiny, that the Bible has exerted such enormous influence and played such a wonderful part in the history of human thought.

DOCTRINE OF INSPIRATION

Our purpose at present is to examine this doctrine of the Inspiration of Scripture. It is one of the essential and fundamental doctrines of Catholicism, and I propose to deal with it under three headings:

1. In the first place, we will explain the Catholic doctrine as to the nature of Biblical Inspiration. And in explaining its nature we shall, I hope, set forth its reasonableness, which is in some sense the main point of my discourse,, since we are dealing with Inspiration inasmuch as it constitutes to many a “difficulty” against Catholicism.

2. In the second place, we shall discuss the grounds or reasons for asserting that the Bible is inspired. That is, we shall try to answer the question: How do you know that the Bible, or any book in the Bible, or any writing whatsoever, is inspired by God? And we shall know that in the Catholic Church alone is there given a reasonable answer to this question.

3. Lastly, we shall ask ourselves: what are the effects of Inspiration? If you or I were inspired by God to write a book (as the Evangelists were), how would that book differ from one which we might write without, such Inspiration? Does Inspiration furnish a divine guarantee for the historic accuracy of every assertion in such a book?

This, then, will be our triple division. First, the nature of Inspiration and its reasonableness; secondly, the proof that it exists; and, lastly, its effects.

I. NATURE OF BIBLICAL INSPIRATION

The word Inspiration is in constant daily use amongst us. We talk of an inspired article in .the morning newspaper, or the “inspiration” , of the poet. It is derived from the Latin word inspirare, meaning to “breathe into,” and the general idea expresses and represents a fact with which we are all familiar-viz., that one person may use another as the medium through which he expresses his thoughts. If you call a messenger and instruct him to deliver a certain message for you, you are practising inspiration. The boy in delivering your message is acting as your spokesman, is transmitting your thoughts, and you, as principal agent, are responsible for the effects produced by the message; he is merely your instrument, even though he is also using his own power of free will and his own intellect. And if you could, in some mysterious way, control this messenger, whilst actually delivering the message, in such wise that he would say exactly what you wished him to say, and nothing else, then you would have almost an exact counterpart to the Divine Inspiration of the Scriptures.

You see, there is nothing extravagant or unreasonable in the idea of Inspiration. If you or I can send a message, convey an idea, impart information through the medium of another human mind and will, may not the Divine Mind also use human minds and wills to convey Its message to mankind?

DETAILS

Let me now explain a little more fully the details of this teaching. Catholic doctrine states that the Books of the Bible have been written by men under the direct and immediate control and guidance of the Holy Spirit, so that the things they wrote are the thoughts which God wished to be presented to us as His thoughts and His message to us. In other words, the effect of Inspiration is that God is truly the Author of Holy Scripture; which doctrine is summed up in the statement: The Bible is the Word of God.

When the theologians analyse this more fully, they assert that three elements go to constitute Inspiration:

1. A supernatural impulse given by God to the will of the writer urging him to produce the book or writing in question.

2. A special supernatural light given to his intellect to enable him to select and set down the ideas which God wants to have written down; a kind of selective grace. Or, if necessary, God specially reveals to the writer the facts or mysteries which He would have communicated, although revelation is not essential to Inspiration, as we shall see.

3. A special assistance given by God to the writer, when actually writing, to safeguard him against error, so that he expresses exactly what God wants him to express.

These three elements are required in order that the resulting documents may truly be ascribed to God as its Author.*

WHAT FORMALLY CONSTITUTES AN AUTHOR

We shall understand better why, theologians require these elements for Inspiration if we examine more fully the idea of

Authorship. In the production of any writing or document three parts may be distinguished.

1. The mere material or mechanical setting down of the writing or symbols that represent the sounds of human speech.

The art of doing this well is called caligraphy. Not everyone excels in this art, though we all aimed at it to some extent at school, when busy with our copy books.

2. The selection of the words to express certain ideas. One can express the same idea in various ways or in different languages-English, French, Latin, etc. .

3. The furnishing the ideas underlying the words.

These three elements may proceed from different individuals. One man may suggest the thought, another clothe it in words, and a third write, or type or print it.

Now, corresponding to this triple division, one can distinguish a triple sense of the question: Who wrote this? If I hold up a document and ask, “Who wrote this?” that may mean, Who put pen to paper and actually wrote it out? This is what the question would mean if one were examining a child’s copy book. In that case the words chosen or the ideas expressed are of no consequence, only the formation of the letters.

Secondly, “Who wrote this?” might mean, Who is responsible for the language employed? So, if I hold up a German

Bible and ask the question, the answer might be, “Martin Luther wrote it,” meaning that he translated it. Such a translator is not the author of the ideas, but of the language employed to represent them.

Lastly, “Who wrote this?” means: Who is responsible for the ideas contained in this book? even though the actual version may be a translation into a language of which the original author knows nothing. Now, when we talk of a man being the author of a book, it is clear we do not mean that he actually penned or personally printed the book. Nor does it always mean that he actually selected the words. Thus, if a merchant tells his typist to write a letter to a customer, merely outlining the ideas to be embodied, but leaving the mode of expression to the typist, the merchant is truly the author of the letter; no one will ascribe it to the typist.

So, also, I might say: “Listen to what St. Augustine says,” and then read out a passage in modern English, a language of which St. Augustine never heard; it was not even in existence when he lived. Evidently I mean that Augustine is the author of the thoughts enshrined in this modern English dress.

The word Author, then (Latin, Auctor), means the person from whom the thing proceeds as its principal efficient cause. I say principal cause, which does not exclude the employing subordinate instrumental causes to aid him in producing his work, whether these instruments are inanimate, like a pen or a brush, or rational beings, like a clerk or a typist.

To say that John Smith is author of a book implies these two things:-First, he it is that produced and arranged the ideas contained therein; he selected them, and as selected by him they represent what he wished to have written down.

Secondly, he caused them to be written down; he gave the impulse that has resulted in heir finding outward expression in writing.

GOD, THE AUTHOR OF SCRIPTURE

Now, it is in this sense that God is the Author of Scripture. God’s plan is to deal with us in a human way. And just as He became man in order to talk to us with human lips and to love us with a human heart, so He wished to convey His thoughts to us in a human way, and wished to perpetuate them by using the ordinary means in use among men-viz., writing. Moreover, in His work God always wishes to associate His creatures with Himself as His fellow-workers. This explains the whole “Sacramental System of the Catholic Church, where Christ is working incessantly and producing marvellous supernatural results through the visible ministry of human agents.

The priest at the altar and in the confessional, at the bedside anointing the sick or at the font baptizing the child, is simply Christ’s instrument. It is always Christ Who, with and through his human representative, baptizes, anoints, absolves and consecrates.

This close union of the human and the divine to produce supernatural effects is found also in the composition of the Bible. And it is this marvellous influence of the uncreated mind of God, illuminating, elevating, assisting the finite mind of the human writer who is HIS instrument, that explains the unique nature of the inspired writings.

DIFFICULTIES

But now, someone may object: How can God be called the Author of Sacred Scripture in the sense that He causes the thoughts or ideas, when it is evident that many parts of the Bible, the Psalms for example, express the human feelings and ideas of the writer? And we know that the historical writers, both of Old and New Testament, made use of ordinary human documents and records. So St. Luke expressly tells us in the Prologue to his Gospel, and the author of 2nd Maccabees informs us that he derived his material from Jason of Cyrene, whose five books of history he condensed.

To set forth this difficulty more clearly, we may note the distinction between Revelation and Inspiration:

REVELATION

Revelation means that God communicates truth or knowledge to a created intellect in a supernatural way. The truth thus communicated need not necessarily be a mystery of the supernatural order. It might be a truth of the natural order, such as the doctrine of Free Will, or the Immortality of the Soul, which we may discover by our own investigation without any revelation. But when God reveals it, we then have a further and a higher motive for assenting to its truth—viz., the authority of God Himself.

Now, if God wants a book written, He might simply illuminate the writer’s mind with new revelations and order him to write them down as God’s message to the world, or to a particular people, as happened in the case of the Prophets of the Old Testament and to St. John when penning the Apocalypse or Book of Revelation in the New Testament.

But in many other cases we have no reason for asserting or supposing any special revelation. For example, St. Luke tells us that he consulted all the documents and witnesses available for the compilation of his Gospel and Acts. How, then, can God be the author of that Gospel, since the selection of events, the arranging of material, the whole method of production, seem to proceed from Luke the Physician?

PROCESS OF INSPIRATION

The process, I think, may be conceived thus. Let us take as a concrete example the story of the Burning Bush, narrated in the Book of Exodus, which book I assume to have been written by Moses, the eye-witness of the scene.

First, God impels Moses to write a description of the scene, just as I might urge you to write an account of the earthquake in Japan, supposing you had witnessed the disaster in Tokyo.

Secondly, Moses proceeds to write his account, using his own personal knowledge acquired by actually witnessing the scene. But in the process, God, by His almighty power, is so illuminating and directing the intellect, imagination and will of Moses that only those ideas are by him, clearly perceived, accepted and written down which God wishes to have in the book. Moses acts freely (and, perhaps, may be quite unconscious that he is being specially directed); still, his selecting is influenced by God in such a way that the resulting description is from God. It is written in the style and method of Moses, it bears the stamp of his human character, it expresses his personal views; and yet it also proceeds from the Divine Mind; which is working through the mind of Moses to set forth the ideas and images which God wants to have placed on record.

ILLUSTRATION

We may, perhaps, illustrate it from the selective use we ourselves make of language to express our ideas. When you wish to speak and convey your views to others, you don’t start off by coining new words and phrases-or new images and metaphors. In fact, the whole system of social intercourse by language presupposes that a pre-arranged conventional code of signals is familiar to those we are addressing. If you want to see the effect of trying to express your views without this antecedent familiarity, try to address an audience in a foreign tongue which they don’t understand, and see how you get on! No, the process of speaking or writing is simply a selective one. Each one picks out from the vast arsenal of his native tongue the words which correspond to his ideas, he arranges them as best he may, and launches them on the world.

Why may not God also exercise this selective power? He uses a living mind as his instrument, selects from that mind’s store of knowledge the ideas that suit his purpose,

Secures that these ideas be written down accurately, and thus uses not merely human words, but human ideas, as the alphabet of His inscrutable thoughts.

FALSE THEORIES OF INSPIRATION

The explanation just given of the Catholic idea of Inspiration shows how far removed is the Catholic Doctrine from the loose notions of Inspiration held so commonly outside the Catholic Church.” Many non-Catholics, when they talk of the inspired writing of the Bible, use the term in the same sense as when they talk of the inspiration of Shakespeare or Shelley; it denotes the quality of literature which results from and is evidence of poetic exaltation, deep insight into the beauty of nature, aesthetic sensitiveness, and so on. So that “Macbeth,” or “The Skylark,” or “The Hound of Heaven” rank with the Gospels as inspired writings. Such loose notions the Catholic Church resolutely rejects. For her the true notion of Biblical Inspiration is crystallised in that short sentence which has been canonised by the Councils of Trent and the Vatican: God is the Author of the Scriptures.*

*The Vatican Council declared: “These books of Old and New Testament are to be received as sacred and canonical. The Church, however, regards them as sacred and canonical not on the ground that having first been, composed by purely human efforts they subsequently received her approbation; nor merely because they contain revelation without error; but because having been written under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit, they have God for their Author, and as such, have been entrusted to the Church.”

2. PROOF OF INSPIRATION

Having thus dealt with the meaning and nature of Biblical Inspiration, we may next consider the question: How can we know for certain that a book or document is inspired? On what evidence does the Inspiration of the Bible rest? Here we are face to face with an all-important and fundamental question which has never, to my mind, been fairly met or dealt with, except in the Catholic Church alone. The Church gives to that question a full, and I think a completely satisfactory, answer. Religious bodies outside the Catholic Church, which accept the Bible,as God’s word, have offered various other solutions, and all are quite unsatisfactory. Now, the Catholic answer to the question, How do we know the Bible is inspired? is this: We know the Bible is inspired because the permanent living organ or teacher of Truth, namely, the Church, assures us that it is so. Try to grasp firmly the fact that the Church has been established by Christ, and is actually functioning as a living, teaching organisation, specially set up to safeguard and promulgate religious truth. Just as a university is an organisation for the collecting and distributing of literary and scientific knowledge, just as a historical or archaeological society exists to gather and impart facts from the past, so the Church (regarded as the Ecclesia docens) is a permanent Board of Teachers with a divinely-appointed Head, supernaturally, assisted to discharge its duties properly when functioning in its capacity as teacher of faith and morals. Grasp this fact, I say, and at once you see. why the Church’s authoritative declaration that the Bible is inspired by God at once settles the matter, satisfies the mind and excludes all reasonable doubt.

THE ONLY ADEQUATE ANSWER

For the question as to whether a book is inspired by God or not is surely one that cannot be determined either by internal evidence or by the mere statement of the human writer himself that he is inspired. For we, have seen that the ideas and language of the inspired book may proceed entirely from the human author (though God is exerting His selective influence) and need not have anything peculiarly distinctive of their divine origin. Again, in the case of bald statements of facts, such as genealogies, lists of kings, descriptions of rites and ceremonies, like those in the Book of Leviticus, who would venture to say that such passages could, from internal evidence, be shown to be inspired? And, secondly, the mere statement of a writer that he believes that he is inspired is evidently inadequate. For unless you assume the very point at issue, you must suppose him capable of error; we know that thousands of people have laid claim to Divine Inspiration without there being sufficient grounds to justify the claim. Every religious teacher, from Mohammed, the Prophet of the Koran, to Joseph Smith, the Prophet of Mormonism, has set up in the teaching line on the ground of being divinely inspired. All these various claimants, who teach such totally contradictory, and in many cases, absurd doctrines, may all of them be wrong, but most certainly cannot all of them be right.

THE ONLY PROOF

The only satisfactory proof that a book is inspired by God is if God Himself says it is so. In other words, God must reveal the fact. And the Church declares that this revelation about the inspired character of the Bible is one part of the primitive deposit of doctrine confided to her care in Apostolic times, to be guarded and transmitted without loss, and communicated to mankind all down the ages.

The special guarantee which secures the Church against making mistakes in expounding and interpreting this body of doctrine is called the gift of Infallibility. Consequently, the logical process whereby a Catholic reaches certitude about the inspiration of the Bible is the same as that whereby he reaches certitude about the Real Presence, about the efficacy of the Sacraments, the dogma of the Trinity, or any other Catholic doctrine. He assures himself by reason and investigation that the Catholic Church is the duly authorised custodian and teacher of Divine Truth in the world, and that God Himself guarantees the faithful discharge of the teaching function. He will see that she makes no mistakes on fundamental points of truth or morality. She will never, e.g., teach that the Virgin Birth or the Resurrection are myths, or that divorce or race suicide can be moral. And once he learns that the Church has defined that the Bible is inspired, he accepts the decision unhesitatingly and is at rest on the matter.

NON-CATHOLIC VIEWS

Now, when we turn to other so-called Christian bodies outside the Catholic Church, and ask what their proof or arguments are for the inspiration of the Bible, the first thing that strikes us is that, whatever those arguments may be like, they cannot be very efficacious or convincing, since, as a matter of fact, they have not succeeded in keeping alive in those bodies a true belief in the Inspiration of the Bible. Those of you who have been watching the papers will remember a recent violent controversy in New York and other American cities between non-Catholic preachers and teachers over the “Literal Bible,” as it was called. And you will have noted that many of these people have really given up all faith in the Bible as an inspired record.

I remember a couple of years ago reading a very enterprising suggestion made by a prominent and well-known English writer, a man not at all inclined to hide his light under a bushel, nor one that you would say suffered from acute shyness in any shape. His suggestion with regard to the Bible was this: that a supplementary chapter or book should be written and incorporated with the Bibleas a part of the inspired volume, in order to bring it up to date; much as the “Encyclopaedia Britannica” publishes extra volumes now and then to keep the work abreast of modern discoveries.

I presume that a part of the plan would be that the King and Parliament would be asked duly and authoritatively to proclaim the new chapter as of equal value with the original parts, and order it to be read in the churches. And remark, not only does this estimable gentleman propose this modern addition to the Bible, but he himself would be ready, I think on very little provocation, to undertake the task himself. Surely the mere bald fact that a prominent literary man of modern times could dream of making such a suggestion is an indication of the utter deadness of faith in men of his type, and of their complete rejection of the Divine Inspiration of the Bible.

SHIFTING OF PROTESTANT VIEW

As hinted already, the simplest way to convince oneself of the inadequacy of Protestant doctrines about the Inspiration of the Bible is to study the extraordinary change of opinion that has come about in the last four centuries.

The first Reformers started off with a kind of idolatry of the Bible. They never stopped to ask what reason they had for regarding the Bible as the Word of God, but in a blind, fanatical way set up this book as the supreme, the only, Arbiter and Court of Appeal in matters of religion. They were delighted (I presume) to find at hand a readymade authority to which they could appeal against the authority of the Pope and the Catholic Church. They did not reflect that by rejecting the Church they were cutting through the branch on which they themselves sat; since it was the Church that had given them the Bible, and taught them that it was God’s Word. Still, it was a clever move to appeal to the Bible, since no Catholic could or would call in question the authority of Scripture; the Catholic Church always turned to the Bible as to a Charter of her authority and privileges.

These Reformers refused to do homage, to the living voice of Pope or Council, but fell down and worshipped the written word of the Bible. And their reverence and adoration went so far that the very words and letters of the Bible were declared to be divinely inspired, nay, even the vowel points of the Hebrew Text (which everyone knows were added by the Massoretic Scholars centuries after Christ); and this extreme view was actually imposed under pain of fine, imprisonment and exile by the Confession” of the Swiss Church in I675.*

MODERNISTS

At the opposite extreme are the Protestant Modernists, who have not only ceased to regard the Bible as inspired by God, but consider that the Bible cannot be treated as in any true or scientific sense an historical, record. Its contents are merely facts as “faith” regards them, faith, according to Modernists, being a special innate sense distinct from the intellect. Thus, as a Christian believer, I may assert that Christ rose from the dead, though as a philosopher or scientist I cannot admit such an event as historical. The Bible is a compilation written from this faith viewpoint, and this it is that constitutes Inspiration.

*”Catholic Encyclopaedia,” “Inspiration,” Vol. VIII., p. 48.

Between these two extremes of unreasoning worship on the one hand, and complete denial of its divine origin on the other, one can find every shade and variety of opinion amongst non-Catholics. Amongst those who did maintain in a true sense Biblical Inspiration, the theory in vogue to prove its Inspiration was this: The divine origin and authorship are recognised by the internal experience of light and sweetness and comfort which accompany or result from the reading of Holy Scripture.

The Holy Ghost Himself thus testifies in our hearts that the words we read are from Him.

Now, whilst we admit that the nature of the doctrine taught in Scripture and the effects it produces in our souls are confirmatory proofs of its divine origin, just as the style, eloquence or elevation of a written speech maybe confirmatory evidence of its being by a certain author, still we deny that this subjective criticism can be a satisfactory one of general application.

For, in the first place, many people never experience those feelings or emotions at all when reading the Bible. Is it, then, not inspired for them?

Secondly, such subjective sensations and impressions are evidently liable to illusion, as sad experience has proved. Surely, if God has sent us, documents to be read and utilised as coming directly from Himself, He must have provided some definite, clear, easily applied method of establishing for all the fact of the divine authorship, seeing that the whole force and value for us of those documents depends on this authorship. There are many human writings whose value and authority depend on the identity of the writer being clear beyond dispute, as, for example, a will, a cheque, or a letter. If you get a cheque drawn in your favour for £10,000, you will scrutinise the signature pretty carefully, since it makes a considerable difference whose name is at the foot of the cheque. The authority of the cheque depends on its authorship being clear beyond dispute. So the value of a letter from a friend depends on your being certain that it was really your friend who wrote it.

GOD”S LETTER TO US

St. Augustine calls Holy Scripture the letter which God has written to us for our instruction and comfort; and clearly the authorship of this divine letter must be established beyond a doubt if the letter is to produce its effects. When a king or emperor sends a despatch to one of his subjects he sends a trustworthy courier to deliver the missive and guarantee its royal origin. Thus also (according to Catholic teachers) did the Heavenly King act when .sending His letter to us. He sent His ambassadors to, testify to its genuineness; and the most important of these witnesses was His own Son made Man, Jesus Christ; and after Him those other specially appointed mouthpieces of His wisdom whom we call Apostles.

It is from Jesus Christ and from His Apostles that the Church received definite assurance of the, divine origin of the Bible, and this message has been faithfully handed on to us by His duly accredited Messenger, the never-dying Church.

EFFECTS OF INSPIRATION

It remains now to say something about the effects of Inspiration on the written documents produced under its influence.

This subject is a wide one, and we can deal with only one or two aspects of it. The question that is of chief consequence, and that is most widely discussed, is this: Does Divine Inspiration guarantee the truth of every statement in the Bible? Are there not errors at least in matters of history and science? And, if so, how can we reconcile them with the statement that God is its Author?

CATHOLIC PRINCIPLES

In this matter I will try to explain the Catholic doctrine, and indicate certain general principles that have to be applied to meet difficulties like the above.

The fundamental Catholic position may be stated in two propositions:

1. The whole Bible is inspired-that is, all the books and every part of them. This statement was opposed by those who maintained that only matters of faith or morals fell under Inspiration, and that all purely scientific or historical matters were given simply on the human authority of the writer. Such people apply to Biblical Inspiration principles which are true when applied to the prerogative of Infallibility in the teaching Church. The Pope is only infallible when teaching dogmas of faith and morals. But the Catholic Church has decisively declared that this doctrine cannot be applied to Scripture.

2. The Second principle is that, as a result of Inspiration, everything in the Bible is true; we cannot admit formal error as having been communicated to the world on God’s authority. This second statement needs fuller elucidation.

NO ERRORS IN BIBLE

Now, in the first place, in making this statement we do not mean to exclude the possibility of errors creeping into the copies of the Bible that have been made from the original, or autograph. It is evident to any student of the Bible Text that while we are more certain of the substantial integrity of the Biblical Text than of that of any other ancient book, still minor errors have from time to time occurred in the MSS., as, e.g., in numerals, names or dates, and such like. The Hebrew letters (which stand for numerals) are easily confounded, and through misreading a single letter quite a large error in computing years may occur. God has handed over the Bible (just as He has handed over the Blessed Sacrament) to be guarded and preserved by mankind, and it is man’s duty to exercise all diligence to get at the exact text of the documents.

In the second place, we must remember that God is using men and human language as His instruments to convey His thoughts to us. Now, every artist is conditioned by the material he works in. Michael Angelo had to use as best he might the blocks of marble at his disposal; even the great violinist, Paganini, was dependent on the quality of his instrument for the production of his marvellous music. So the Divine Artist also chooses to be dependent on the material He works in; and when God wishes to employ human literature, produced by human writers, as a means of communicating with us, then He uses it as He finds it, employing the various forms and modes of speech in use amongst men-such as metaphor, parable, story, fable, drama, as well as historical composition, proverbs, poetry, and so on. And to know what exactly is the truth which God intends to convey we must take into account the particular form of speech or writing which is employed.*

PARABLES

A favourite method of teaching truth employed by Our Lord was one which is familiar to all Eastern peoples-viz., that of parables or stories with a moral.

In the New Testament we have no less than thirtysix distinct parable’s used by Our Lord. He used them to convey truth, and we have His own divine authority for the truths they convey.

The Parable is a medium for conveying glorious truth, and yet need not itself be historically true. When Jesus tells us of the man with two sons, one of whom, left his father to see the world, we are not bound to take this as literally true, or to think that the merchant seeking pearls represents an actual individual merchant. It is not historical truth that is taught, but moral truth under an allegory.

So again, when in the Book of Judges Jonathan told the men of Sichem the story of the trees that wanted a king and applied in turn to the Olive tree, the Fig tree, the Vine, and the Bramble, evidently we are not expected to believe that the trees actually spoke, or tried to set up a monarchical form of government; and yet the story conveyed a very pointed truth.

*The Bible is not a series of categorical statements of fact dictated by God to human writers who would have merely copied what God dictated. The sacred writers retained normal use of intelligence and will, and to determine the meaning which they intended to convey, which is also the literal sense intended by God, we must take account of the literary form which they actually used.

DRAMA

Drama, or lyric poetry, can be made the vehicle o£ very exalted teaching, although the persons and incidents introduced in such poems may be entirely fictitious. It is quite immaterial to the sublime lessons conveyed by “The Merchant of Venice,” “Hamlet,” or “Othello” whether such persons as Shylock, or the Prince of Denmark, or the Moor of Venice ever actually existed. There are portions of Scripture, such as the Book of job and some of the Psalms, which are set forth in dramatical form, and it matters not in the least whether the characters in the Book of Job ever actually existed or not; it is the magnificent truths about God; and His providence so gloriously taught in the book that really matter.

Consequently, when we say that all Scripture is true, we do not mean to say that every part of Scripture is true in the same way. We have to examine carefully the particular form of literary expression that is being employed before we can judge whether it is historic, moral, or didactic truth that is being taught.*

ARE THERE HISTORICAL ERRORS?

But special difficulties are frequently raised about the parts of the Bible that are confessedly written as historical records such as Genesis and the Pentateuch generally, the Book of Kings, the Four Gospels, the Acts of the Apostles. About the historical accuracy and trustworthiness of these books a mighty battle has been waged in recent times. The rationalistic opponents of the Bible have striven might and main to convict the sacred writings of error, trying to show that statements made in the Bible conflict with the trustworthy testimony of secular records.

Now, to examine the subject here in much detail is evidently quite impossible; it would take much time and study to treat the matter adequately. But we can make some general observations to guide enquirers.

A great many of the charges of inaccuracy or error made against the Bible arise simply from the prejudice and blindness of hostile critics. They are out to pick holes .n the record: and a very slight acquaintance with the law courts- or, indeed, with everyday life-is enough to show how easy it is to find faults and grounds of accusation when one is looking for them.

MODERN DISCOVERIES

To begin with, an extraordinary flood of light has been thrown on the historical part of the Bible (Old and New Testament) by the discoveries made during the past 50 or 60 years. Through excavations and researches in Bible lands, monuments have been unearthed, long-forgotten languages have been deciphered, buried civilisations have been brought to light. In Assyria, Babylonia, Persia, in Palestine itself, and especially in Egypt, marvellous and undreamt-of treasures have been recovered. Now, what is the general result of all these discoveries? Have they tended to discredit the Bible or prove its record to be in error? .

The answer is, emphatically NO. On the contrary, the discoveries have tended in a marvellous manner to substantiate the truth, even in minute details, of the Bible narrative.

To no part of the Bible has criticism directed its efforts more assiduously than the New Testament. And in spite of a century and a half of untiring investigation, not a single historical error has ever been proved in the New Testament. I make this assertion advisedly, because in books of hostile criticism of the Bible, such as Schurer’s “History of the Jewish People,” you will see the opposite statement boldly made. There are, of course, historical difficulties which we cannot solve for want of fuller information, since the period of history covered by the New Testament is singularly deficient in contemporary writers. But what I want to emphasise is this: Beware of bold statements about errors in the Bible which you will constantly find made in, books written by rationalistic or atheistic writers-many of them very superficial scholars.

*Parable, history, drama are all suitable methods of expressing human thought, but each one of these forms of literature must be interpreted in accordance with the rules of interpretation which are appropriate to it. This principle applies to the inspired writings just as well as to non-inspired writings.

AN EXAMPLE

One or two examples may make the point clear. In 2nd Chapter of St. Luke we learn that Mary and Joseph journeyed from Nazareth to Bethlehem as a result of a decree of the Emperor Augustus, commanding a census to be taken of the whole Roman Empire, and Joseph had to go to Bethlehem to be enrolled in his native town, since he was of the race of David. Moreover, this enrolment took place when a certain Quirinius was Governor of Syria. Here are three definite statements of fact-and the higher critics have challenged them as erroneous:

(1) A worldwide census ordered by the Emperor Augustus (2) took place in Judea when Quirinius ruled Syria, and (3) people were obliged to travel to the city whence their family was sprung to be enrolled.

Half a century ago all the rationalistic critics declared dogmatically that there is no evidence of any such decree by the Emperor Augustus; Quirinius was Governor of Syria ten years later than the birth of Christ, and the idea of people being obliged to return to their native town for enrolment is a pure invention; such a custom was unknown. Consequently, the Gospel is in error.

Thus the critics in their wisdom. And, of course, many people who read these dogmatic assertions made by learned professors were duly impressed and wondered whether the Bible was all it claimed to be.

A Catholic is usually not much affected by these criticisms, because he has the Church behind him, and has her guarantee to fall back upon. But the non-Catholic is completely at the mercy of the critic; if he is unable himself to deal with the difficulty, he is left floundering about helplessly.

THE TABLES TURNED

Now, notice what happened. A few years ago men began to unearth in Egypt and decipher a vast quantity of papyri documents, dating back hundreds, or even thousands, of years; and at Oxyrhynchus, on the Nile, they found certain papyri records which proved to be Greek documents going back to the first century of our era. Now, some of these were actually the census returns sent in by householders along the Nile on the occasion of the census held in that land at regular intervals of 14 years. And Professor Ramsay has shown that it is almost certain that this system of census-taking was ordered by Augustus not only in Egypt, but in the other provinces-in fact, all over the Empire. I have examined photographic facsimiles of these Oxyrhynchus papyri, and one of them I studied with peculiar interest, as the document was written in the year 26 A.D., just when Our Lord was beginning His public ministry in Palestine.

From these papyri and other documents, it is now clearly established that St. Luke’s account is entirely accurate. Augustus did order the census; Quirinius was twice Governor of Syria, and it was during his earlier period of office that the census of St. Luke was taken. And the custom of obliging people to travel to their native town for enrolment was actually in force.

In connection with this last point, let me give you an amusing instance of the skilful way our higher critics argue when dealing with the Bible, and how they change their tactics when confronted with awkward facts.

HIGHER CRITIC”S TACTICS

Up to recent times (as I have said) the critics declared that St. Luke was in error in stating that people were obliged to repair to their family city for enrolment. But research has now made it clear that St. Luke’s statement was quite correct and that the critics were wrong.

Now, what does your critic do? Does he beg St. Luke’s pardon and apologise for charging him with mendacity?

Not a bit of it. A certain German professor, commenting on the Oxyrhynchus papyri, thus deals with the matter:

“We now know from historical evidence that families were obliged to journey to their native town for enrolment. Luke inventions this in the case of Mary and Joseph, evidently because he wanted, by using historical detail, to give an air of reality and historical accuracyto his otherwise romantic and fanciful story of the birth at Bethlehem.”

Now, what are you to say to a man like that? If St. Luke gives details not found in other authorities, he is accused of inventing them. If he gives details which other authorities show to be accurate, he is accused of inserting them, to deceive the public and secure credit for the other details which he invented. So that in any case you can’t trust him. Poor St. Luke! But time will not permit me to pursue the subject further, even though I have treated it very inadequately.

CONCLUSION

In conclusion, I offer this advice:

1. Don’t trust the higher critics! If they are particularly emphatic in asserting some point which is damaging to the authority of the Bible, you may take it for granted they are wrong! This I say deliberately as the result of many years” familiarity with their books, their ways, and their methods.

2. When you come across historical or other difficulties in the Bible consult the best books and authorities on the subject. A large number of splendid books dealing with the Bible have been published in recent years, some in English, many of them in other languages; for practical purposes I would recommend the Catholic Encyclopaedia. For instance, the article on Inspiration in the 8th Vol. is well worth careful study; and it gives a fine list of books for further consultation. If you cannot consult books, ask a priest or some Catholic student of the Bible for information.

3. Finally, try to realise that in the Bible the world possesses a treasure of priceless value. According to the Catholic doctrine of Inspiration this Book is resplendent with a light that is the light of God Himself, shining amidst the darkness of time to guide men across the tossing waters of life to the port of salvation.

And every Catholic will feel that, as a member of the Church, to whose safe-keeping the Bible has been entrusted, he must share the responsibility, of defending it. That high duty and responsibility he will regard as one of the greatest privileges which membership of the Church confers upon him.

Nihil Obstat

MICHAEL CRONIN;

Censor Theol. Deput.

Imprimi Potest

@ EDUARDUS,

Archiep. Dublinen,

Hiberniae Primas. Dublini, die:30 Junii, Anno 1925. ********

The Invincible Standard

BY DANIEL A. LORD, S.J

INDEX

The ugliest symbol in the world is undoubtedly the cross.

From the viewpoint of art it defies all the laws of beauty: two straight pieces of rough-cut wood, blood-stained; lacking all the curves that are the lines of beauty, lacking all the play of light and shadow that is the essential of plastic art.

That which the cross suggests is so ugly that Bernard Shaw has cried out: “I object to the cross as I object to all gibbets.” The cross connotes execution, bloodshed, the horrors of brutal punishment, the torment of slaves dying in parched agony for the terrible crimes they committed against their masters, the torture of prisoners hanging between the earth that they were too foul to encumber and the heaven that had no place for scum such as they.

SYMBOLISM

When one compares this ugly, repellent crossplank symbol with other symbols in the history of man’s devotion, the character of the cross grows even clearer.

The Jews loved their symbolic star, snatched from the sky, to be a light for their feet, a guide for their journeying, a pledge of hope, and an assurance that God’s eyes were always upon them.

Mohammed shrewdly selected the soft crescent moon as the symbol for his followers. What could be gentler, more fraught with hope, more calculated to lift the eyes from earth and the soul from sordid concerns, than this soft scimitar which hangs against the deep blue of the oriental sky?

Even the swastika, a symbol used by all peoples, from those earliest days when man first wedded symbolism to religion, has a mystery and a fascination that is lacking in the cross. The swastika, at least does not consist merely of two plain sticks grimly thrust out at right angles. The swastika breaks those lines; sends them mystically back upon themselves; suggests movement, the dance of life, the whirl of some exotic firework.

But the cross is inartistic; repulsive in suggestion.

“Cursed is he that hangs upon the tree” was the old summary of the Jews” attitude towards the cross. They did not even wish to mention the cross by its true name; hence they used a euphemism to make it less repulsive. That is why, when Christ suggested to His Apostles that He might die upon a cross, Peter winced, as if Christ had struck him, and cried out imperiously and in complete revulsion: “Be it far from Thee!”

SHADOW OF THE CROSS

Yet, with the coming of Christ, the cross begins to throw its persistent shadow across history. It enters sharply, like the blade of an elongated sword, into the personal and private lives of people who are normally considered to be happy. The cross is a quite common gift from one Catholic to another. Among her wedding presents, the Catholic bride is quite likely to find and accept with gratitude a cross for the Wall of her room. The priest, vesting for Mass, repeats a prayer accepting the “yoke of Christ,” while he hangs on his shoulders the chasuble marked with the symbolic weight of the cross. It is the cross that is raised above the young religious at the moment of his or her vows. Around the soft throat of the young Catholic girl may hang, almost like a talisman, a simple cross of gold.

Why?

Why did Christ utter this astounding paradox: “If any man will come after Me, let him deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow Me; for whosoever will save his life shall lose it . . .”? There’s an ugly invitation, if ever one was issued. We can almost see the Pharisees shrink back and away at this ultimatum. They had always felt that Christ was odd and different; that from Him could come only the strangest of new standards. But His invitation to shoulder a cross and carry it to a place of bloody execution was pushing this business of paradox too far. With His allusions to the cross, the whole matter of being a disciple of this Nazarene became not only ridiculous, but acutely repulsive.

FOLLY OF THE CROSS

The Apostles were almost as startled as were the Pharisees. It jolted them to hear Christ speak almost with affection of this bloody thing that the Romans reserved only for notably atrocious criminals. They were troubled, and at times even vexed, when He displayed a sort of yearning for the cross. Calvary came and bruised the quaking earth with the ineffaceable shadow of the cross. Easter came to show a Christ still marked by the stigmata which that cross had made on His hands and feet. But Pentecost had to come to clear their doubts and difficulties, to make all mysteries plain, before the attitude of the Apostles underwent a change, and they, too, like their Lord, could stretch out their arms to this most repulsive of all symbols, this most shameful of all gibbets.

But change they did in their whole attitude towards the cross. It was with a joy that rose superior to humility that Peter learned it was his privilege to die, not by the swift sword that was to behead the Roman citizen, Paul, but on an ignominious cross, like that which had borne his Lord. Andrew, calm old man though he was, caught the cross of his execution into eager arms and laid his lips against its rough wood. How could it possibly be, he wondered, that he was to be honoured with this gift, of all natural gifts the most precious?

IN THIS SIGN

With astonishment, at first, and then with a hopeless shrug of indifference, the world, that did not find Christ Himself any too easy to understand, watched the cross, His cross, become a symbol for something new and different. They watched missionaries going forth to world conquest, armed with a victorious cross. And they could not fail to see how that cross conquered where the sword-so like the cross in form and yet so unlike, so sharp and so apparently powerful-completely failed. They saw beautiful women turn from lives of sin or from the allurements of vice and cover the rough wood of a cross with their tear-wet kisses. They saw the astounding contradiction of the rough ugliness of a cross which women saints had covered with roses. They saw hermits leave the university towns of Greece and Northern Africa to take up their abode in caves, where for decades they knelt, looking upon two small twigs that they had crossed and tacked upon the stone wall. It was-and the pagan scholars found the whole thing more than a little absurd-as if these hermits found in the crossed twigs a wisdom that the university libraries failed to furnish. Indeed, St. Bonaventure, when asked, admitted that he did find in the cross a wisdom that university libraries could never furnish.

BATTLE STANDARD

The world saw the Crusaders hang the cross about their necks and march out, with St. Louis at their head, to do battle against the crescent and its counterpart, the Mohammedan scimitar. They noted that Joan of Arc carried the cross over her heart, not only into battle, but, with an even greater sense of triumph, to the very stake of her martyrdom.

And all the while a kind of growing chorus is sounding throughout the Church. This inartistic cross is undergoing a strange change in significance. The vested choir of early Christian days sings out: “Ave, crux, spes unica!” “Hail, cross, our only hope!” But no antiphon sounds from the Moslem minarets, no voice crying, “Hail, crescent, our only hope!” A mighty chorus suddenly fills the earth:”Vexilla regis prodeunt”-”The standards of the King advance.” And, to the amazement of all the uninitiated, the standards of the King proved to be nothing but the cross of bloody Calvary and shameful death. Finally, as if to remove forever the stain of opprobrium from the phrase, “Cursed is he that hangs upon the tree,” a saint teaches the Church Universal to sing: “Arbor decora et fulgida”-”O tree, so beautiful and radiant with light!”

INSPIRATION

Art achieves something almost miraculous. Despite the fact that the cross has none of the lines of beauty, Christian art makes that cross the very centre of the finest achievement of Christendom. Catholic architects, working on the inspiration of the cross, convert the Roman law courts into the first Christian basilicas. And, lo! the magnificent Romanesque and Byzantine and Gothic churches prove to be no less than crosses laid upon the ground: the apse, that short section on the cross whereon Christ’s head was laid; the nave, the long section of the cross that held His body; the transepts, the arms of the cross that held His hands in bloody security. And the Church weaves the cross into the very decorations of its walls and at the very centre of its cornices. The cross stands as proudly against the sky of every Christian land as does the flag of any great political empire. The cross becomes the distinguishing mark of the rising university. It is the beckoning finger that calls the sick to hospital, the homeless to refuge. It is the warning hand that rises even above the palace of the tyrant and bids him beware the power that is above all kings.

SIGN OF THE CROSS

The Church carries the cross still further. Moved with a divine instinct, the Church begins to confer all grace with the sign of the cross. The waters of Baptism are poured in a triple cross. Forgiveness drops upon the head of the sinner in the confessional as the priest makes the sign of the cross, in the air. Confirmation is conferred by the multiple crosses made by the Bishop’s hand. A cross joins in marriage, and a cross blesses a young couple. Before the Host is placed upon the tongue of the man, or women at the communion rail, it is moved in the form of a cross. Recurrent crosses seal the young priest to his new responsibilities and privileges. And the crosses signed on hands and feet and head are the assurances given to the dying as they turn reluctantly, fearfully, towards the grave.

“I bless you,” says the priest, and over the bent figure he makes the sign of the cross.

“Peace be with you,” says the Bishop, and he accompanies his lovely wish with the unpeaceful sign of the cross. “Bless me, Father,” begs the penitent, and the confessor answers with the sign of the cross. “Bless my child,” the young mother requests, smiling, and she is happy that upon her infant’s head has been placed the dark symbol of Christ’s bloody death.

BUT WHY?

In itself inartistic, connected with the most debasing form of punishment, the cross has come to enter fully and deeply into the life of every Christian. It has reached out to influence the art of all the world. It is the sign of a blessing, where once it was the sign of a curse. Why? How did it all come about?

The answer is written in the history and the heart of every man and every woman who has ever known the meaning of that common fate of all mankind-sorrow. The cross ceases to be terrible, and becomes infinitely consoling because of its unique and beautiful connection with the sorrows of mankind.

OUR SWEETEST SONGS

Even slight acquaintance with life brings weariness that makes unmistakably clear the universal fact of sorrow. Even casual reading convinces one that sorrow is the motif of the greatest masterpieces of the world, as it is the underlying harmony of the richest songs. Half of all drama, the deeper, truer half, is based on tragedy. We resent the carefree, toohappy and too-untroubled hero of a novel, for we realise that he is untrue to life; untrue to our own lives. Sorrow is the shadow cast over every human figure as the sun rises on each newborn day; a shadow sometimes long, sometimes short, sometimes deep black, sometimes vaguely grey, sometimes vaguely blue.

Just to forestall a misapprehension, let us remember that there is for the normal man and the normal woman much of happiness and joy in life. There is no slightest question that, measured against each other, happiness outweighs sorrow, and outweighs it heavily in the vast majority of lives. But sorrow cannot be escaped altogether. At certain times in our lives sorrow seems to obscure all the other elements of living. Man recognises sorrow as a familiar, even if not a welcome, companion. He knows it is one of the inescapable elements of existence. And, because it is sharp and oppressive, it makes man forget or disparage his realest joys.

TWO COURSES

How, then, shall man greet and use this sorrow? There are two divergent courses open to him. He may face sorrow with pagan eyes. To the pagan, sorrow is always a horrible, repellent, oppressive thing. It is the mystery of mysteries. It comes without reason, remains without purpose, and leaves without solution. The pagan, who has no answer for any of the main problems of human existence, is completely stumped by the problem of pain. He must suffer as hopelessly as the beasts suffer, and with as little understanding of the reason or the purpose of this curse that has fallen upon him with such crushing weight.

No other man in modern times has written so convincingly of pain and sorrow as has Ibsen. He depicts sorrow as the relentless black hound on the heels of his chief characters. And, having no answer to offer, he leaves his characters, like his famous hero of the recently revived “Ghosts,” stretching out their arms to the unattainable sun. Sorrow is a hopeless riddle to the writer of “The American Tragedy.” Sorrow, like an unlaid ghost, stalks through the pages of the Russian novelists. Eugene O”Neill makes sorrow the motif of most of his plays. We may note, however, that the only one of O”Neill’s tragedies which does not end with the curtain drawn on bleak despair is “Days Without End,” in which the hero stands at the foot of the cross (and here we anticipate somewhat our answer to the question of sorrow), his arms hopefully extended in welcome to this explanation and solution of the sorrow of his life.

PURSUIT OF PLEASURE

The inescapable facts of sorrow and pain, plus the fact of pagan helplessness against this sorrow, have, in every period when pagan thought dominated the world, resulted in an attitude of “eat, drink, and be merry.” This pagan recourse to pleasure is merely a feverish effort to escape the inescapable, or at least, since such escape is not possible, to deaden the sense of pain and the certainty of sorrow by oblivion through any means. In the days when they crowned themselves with the vine leaves of Bacchus men got drunk to forget the mess in which they lived. Today, minus the vine leaves and the presence of any god, however fantastic, men get drunk to escape from reality. The pursuit of pleasure, to use the proper combination of words, catches men up in its fierce pace, not because pleasure is a thing that can be caught, but because pain is a thing which they hope can be outrun.

In contrast, almost cut away, we might say, from this whole mad and despairful attitude towards sorrow, is the cross, and the Christian attitude towards the cross. Sorrow becomes almost a very sweet thing. It may even be very precious. The Christian suddenly looks up and sees across his life, not searing pain or deadening sorrow or overwhelming grief, which must be drugged with pleasure, but the shadow of the cross. He hears Christ tell him to take up his cross. And then, as if He were supplying an explanatory synonym, Christ adds: “My yoke is sweet and my burden light.”

BURDEN SHARED

Cross and yoke. Christ uses these two words as synonyms. And consolation comes rushing with that simple fact. We remember with sharp joy that the first man who carried the cross carried it, not alone, but in company with Jesus Christ. Simon of Cyrene is the prototype of all men who since then have taken up the Cross of Christ. Simon found that he was sharing the burden of that cross with this infinitely attractive character, and then, through his acceptance of his share in Christ’s burden, he felt coming into his life new hope and a joy that was to endure for him and for his family. Simon of Cyrene could not explain his new treasure, but he knew that the cross was really a yoke, sweet and light.

How? Christ’s figures of speech are always both charming and co nsoling. But never was any other figure of His more consoling than that by which He spoke of the burden of the cross as a yoke. Joy shared is doubled; sorrow shared is halved. That is the ancient phrase. And the yoke is uniquely a thing that must be borneby two. “My yoke is sweet,” cried the Saviour. And with a blind faith the Christian thrusts his neck into the yoke that is Christ’s. He accepts the burden of sorrow and pain that is, he knows, inescapable. The weight of the rough yoke presses down upon him. Then in a sudden miracle it seems to grow light. For, bent as he is, he looks to the side and makes his great discovery: A yoke is for two; a yoke is not meant to be borne alone. Carrying the burden that has been placed upon him, the Christian sees the head of the Saviour near to his own. The other half of the yoke is borne by Jesus Christ.

THE MIRACLE

Christ spoke of a cross; it has proved to be a yoke; and the Christian who accepts sorrow and pain in the spirit of the Saviour’s blessed cross or yoke discovers in the recurrent miracle that the main weight is being carried, not by himself, but by the strong shoulders of the Man of Sorrows.

The whole attitude towards the inevitable sorrows of life is changed, for man has seen that pain and sorrow are no longer a curse, but a cross, a yoke. It is a terrible thing to have to stagger along under the weight of a curse. It is a glorious thing to be permitted to help the Saviour to carry His cross.

The simple fact that each sorrow, each trial, is a chance to share in the bearing of the cross of the Saviour has completely transformed the life of every saint that ever lived. The saint looked up and saw the cross of Christ. He saw Christ suffering on the cross; he watched Christ staggering along His excruciating Via Crucis; he saw Christ weighted down with the self-accepted instrument of His death. And the saint stretched out his arms almost instinctively and cried: “Lord, let me share Your burden. I will do willingly what Simon of Cyrene did under compulsion.”

ACCEPTANCE

And even if the saint has not yet the courage to ask that the weight of the cross be placed upon his shoulders, he lifts his head when sorrow or pain or trial bear heavily upon him, and says: “This is my great opportunity; by accepting this trial, I can actually help the Saviour to carry the cross that relentlessly crushed Him to the ground. I have not asked for this trial. I am not brave enough to want sorrow or pain. But since, like Simon of Cyrene, I have been honoured by the invitation to share the burden of the Saviour, I accept. Give me a little of your own strength, OChrist. And give me, too, a little of that willingness which welled up in the heart of Simon as he walked with You and bore a part, even though a small part, of the weight of Your cross.”

At the moment of trial or sorrow the man or woman who has wedded faith to self-knowledge naturally makes a quick comparison: He or she compares the lightness of his or her cross with the tremendous weight of Christ’s cross. Then he places his own guilt beside the innocence of the Saviour. He goes forward with his comparison; he sees how willingly the guiltless Christ took up that cross, which was to bear Him down again and again in brutal falls before He was finally to be borne up in the agony of a torturing death; and he is remorselessly ashamed that Christ, who so willingly accepted the cross and all the horrible implications of that cross, should have witnessed him, a follower of Christ, groaning when only a slight splinter of a cross was rubbed roughly against his shoulder.

WILLINGNESS,

It is willingness that makes difficult things easy. And the Christian-notably, the saint-contrasting the willingness of Christ with his own reluctance and resentment, turns with a kind of divine eagerness to take up his part of the cross. Sorrow disappears and pain is forgotten in the joy of walking even the way of the cross in company with the Man who first trod it for love of men.

Then there comes to the Christian another reassuring conviction: All crosses that are laid upon the shoulders of men are placed there by the loving hand of God. Christ, when the disciples wanted to dissuade Him from entering upon His Passion, replied simply: “The chalice which My Father hath given Me, shall I not drink it?”

Yes, His prophetic eye saw all the human agents that were manufacturing that cross and the other instruments of the Passion. Christ saw the high priests holding their grim councils; He saw Pilate hesitating, vacillating; He saw Jewish sycophants weaving the ropes that were to bind Him. He saw Roman soldiers ordering a cross of such and such dimensions, and such and such carrying power. He saw the cynical Herod thrusting Him back to Pilate and condemnation; He heard the clamours of the mob demanding His death, clamours which Pilate had not the courage to deny; He watched the thousand hands which, had they been permitted, would have driven the nails into His hands and feet, and plunged the lance into His side.

HUMAN AGENTS

But it was as if Christ, seeing all this, brushed it aside. The high priests, Pilate, the sycophants, Herod, the soldiers, the mob-these were not the ones who made that cross His. “The chalice which My Father hath given Me. . . .” Those human agents-the surge of human hatred and the bitter gall of human ingratitude; the Jewish faithlessness and the Roman cynical injustice; the carpenters who fashioned the cross, and the centurions who commanded the soldiers to perform the execution-Christ looked beyond all these. He knew that the cross could not be thrust upon Him unless His Father permitted it. More than that. No cross could lift Him high or crush Him low unless His Father saw in that cross the great opportunity for the serving of humanity and the exalting of His own beloved Son to heights no man had ever attained.

FROM THE FATHER

Christ took the cross which the Jews desired for Him and which the Romans ordered; He accepted it from the hands of callous soldiers who laughed with coarse amusement as they dropped it on His scourged back; He staggered beneath it, to the accompaniment of the ribald shouts and jeers of those who had so recently strewn His path with palms.

But it was as if Christ saw neither Jews nor Romans nor mob; it was as if He saw only His Father holding out the cross to Him, and asking Him to carry it, as a great commander might carry into an apparently lost battle his standard of victory. Christ looked beyond those human agents that proudly or crassly thought themselves responsible for His cross. He saw only that His Father was using that cross to lift Him up in a glorious reparation for man’s guilt; He saw that cross as a ladder by which all mankind might come home to the arms of the Father of the prodigal.

THE CHRISTIAN WAY

The pagan completely misses the point of the cross. For him sorrows come from the hands of ungrateful, ungracious men; pain is most often caused by the sins of those who love him and whom he loves. His crosses seem to be placed upon his shoulders by human hands.

But the Christian knows better; his is the attitude of Christ. He knows that it is quite possible to take the attitude that sorrow or inescapable pain comes from his fellow-men. And he knows that the man who looks upon sorrows in such a light is crushed to earth. But the Christian knows, too, that he can look beyond the human agents, beyond the natural catastrophe, and see, as Christ saw, the loving face of the Father.

Christ knew the immediate value of His cross; He knew what His acceptance of that cross would mean to all the world.

IN FAITH

But man, even the saint, has no such clear knowledge. He finds it hard to see why these evil men or that set of tragic circumstances have been permitted to fashion his cross. He has to accept the trial, almost wandering whether his acceptance will result in great things for his own soul and the souls of others. But he knows that he needs no vision of what will come from his cross. The memory of Christ’s cross is enough for him. He accepts his own cross with a deep and trusting faith. If the Father could make Christ’s cross-that seemed to come to Him merely from the unspeakable malice and sin of men-accomplish so much for the world; if the Father could use that cross as the instrument of the whole world’s salvation, as the very throne from which His Son was to rule humanity eternally, then that same gracious Father has in each smaller cross a very definite purpose that will some day be made clear.

But, even before that purpose is revealed, the saint, the clear-sighted Christian, takes up his cross with a sublime act of faith. Like Christ, he looks beyond all the human elements that may surround his cross. He sees only the face of his Father. He accepts his cross in the spirit of Christ, his Leader. And thus what might have been merely the crude, brutal weight of a fellowman’s injustice or ingratitude becomes a splendid privilege, an opportunity to serve God and to gain grace for other men.

A LADDER

A moment ago we spoke of the cross as a ladder. So, in truest reality, it is. Christ, by mounting that cross, entered into the glory of His Father. The same thing in measure is true of the cross of every Christian. His cross is his ladder to God, his step upward towards heaven. And, by their crosses saints have come into the very presence of eternal joy; by the ladders of their crosses Christians today may rise to immortal reward.

So we see the ugly, repellent cross becoming the very touchstone that makes of blind, purposeless sorrow and pain something wonderfully beautiful and consolingly precious. To the pagan the inescapable sorrows and pains and griefs of life, those human uglinesses which no science can ever dislodge, are horrible things, under which he groans and squirms in fierce resentment. To the Christian the inescapable sorrows and pains are crosses a little like the cross of Jesus Christ.

THIS SYMBOL

What possible comparison can the lovely crescent moon of the Mohammedan, or the bright-shining star of the Jew, or the twisted swastika of the Aztec, the Assyrian, or the Nazi offer to this symbol, which transforms the sorrows of human existence into intelligible joy?

Millions of young men were killed in the World War. Their death put an end to their earthly period of struggle and trial. But their death rested like a horrible crushing weight upon the shoulders of the mothers and fathers, the wives and the children of the soldiers. So over the grave of the dead soldier was placed the white symbol of the cross. A crescent would not do; it would be meaningless. For these dead there was no further growth; for them there could be no symbolism in the young, almost feminine, sickle of the moon. A star would have no place above these dead; the star of their life was extinguished; the guidance they might have given to their dear ones was at an end. The crazy pinwheel of the swastika would seem, on the calm climax of the grave, almost an insult.

CROSS TRIUMPHANT

But the cross? Ah! here was hope and assurance. A Man had mounted the cross in the blackest hour of His life. And from that cross He had risen to the fulness of His Easter. The shadow of that cross had come to rest over the breaking heart of a Mother who had seen her Son done to death by His victorious enemies. But that Mother knew that her Son had died for His people, and had driven back forever the enemies who thought they had triumphed in His death. That cross had seemed to be a conquered standard against a sky gone black in defeat. Yet that cross was to flame throughout the world; that cross was to be the one standard that was never defeated, never crushed.

So the cross was the only symbol that could possibly be placed over the graves of the young men who sleep on the battlefields. The cross bespeaks victory that rises out of defeat. It symbolises life that came from the blackness of death. It speaks of hope that could hold fast the courage of mothers and fathers, of wives and children. It is the blessed sign of those who, following Christ into the defeat that is death, know that for those who follow Him there can be no lasting defeat, no continued thraldom of death.

SCIENCE FALTERS

It is more than likely that, with the passing of the years, science will eliminate many of the pains and trials that have weighted, and still weight, humanity. Disease, at least certain types of disease, has been checked. Science has seriously taken up the problem of poverty, though science has far, far to go before it can level, with any sort of decent approximation, the material inequalities of our race. Our lives are filled with remarkable comforts and titillating entertainment. Many an old shadow has been banished, and many an old-time ill driven into exile. And such material progress will, we sincerely hope, continue every year.

Oddly enough, the real crosses of our life come from none of the things which are within the power of science to cure. Science will probably continue to eliminate disease, especially the most virulent forms. The span of life may be lengthened, and the sorrow of losing those near and dear to us may be pushed back a few years. Poverty may be reduced to a minimum. Luxuries and comforts may be more adequately distributed. But neither in disease, nor in the shortness of life, nor in poverty are life’s realest crosses to be found.

OURSELVES A CROSS

Thomas a Kempis, in his chapter “Of the Royal Way of the Holy Cross”-a chapter which ranks, not only as sound Christian philosophy, but also as great literature and biting common sense-speaks of this truth. He understands and makes clear to us that the greatest cross each of us is called upon to bear is the cross of his own self: “The cross, therefore, is always ready, and everywhere waits for thee. Thou canst not escape it, whithersoever thou runnest; for wheresoever thou goest, thou carriest thyself with thee, and shalt ever find thyself. Both above and below, without and within, which way soever thou dost turn thee; everywhere thou shalt find the cross.”-( “Imitation of Christ”-The Second Book, chap. xii., 4.)

Certainly we can in our more honest moments understand very clearly why others find us a trial, for we are so consistently a trial to ourselves. We make such high resolves, and we keep them so badly. We plan so nobly, and we execute so imperfectly. We determine to set the world afire, and we strike only a faintly-glowing match. Our struggles- vast, restless, ambitious-result in the most pitifully inadequate accomplishments. We furiously resent some fault in others; and in no time at all we find ourselves guilty of precisely the same fault.

WE FAIL

What a trial men are to themselves! There are moments when we feel holy; such moments are usually followed by temptations that set us momentarily reeling. We give wise advice to others; then we find that we have not the strength to follow that advice in our own regard. We like to know that we are children of God; and yet it is a struggle for us to keep far from the treason that leads to the devil.

There is the rack of scruples that tortures some of God’s greatest saints. Such a cross is an humiliating thing; for the scrupulous person seems to lack common sense and the ability to see the obvious. There is the cross of ill-health. There is the trial of the man who sees so much to be done and realises that his own limitations keep him from doing any decent share of the work. There is the weight of human weariness. There is the shameful but recurrent fact of laziness. There is despondency, which has a way of poisoning even the fairly well performed actions of our lives. Yes; we ourselves are our own greatest crosses.

The pagan becomes nauseated with himself. Suicide is an inevitable terminus of a pagan life of self-disillusionment. Contempt for himself and contempt for the whole human race grow easily in the heart of the man who has not looked upon the cross of Christ.

OUR DIGNITY

That cross is an enormous reassurance. Yes; I fail constantly. Yes; I am poor clay, and my workmanship is imperfect. Compared with what I know I should do, my finest work is wretched dawdling and ineffectual playing in the sand. But a God-Man considered me so important that He mounted that cross for my sake. He knew my imperfections and limitations far more clearly than I shall ever know them. But He still thought me worthy of being saved; and He died for the purpose.

In a fit of false pride the pagan says: “I”ve failed myself completely. I”m utterly dis gusted with myself. I don’t deserve to live.” And he flings himself away from life or from the full use of life, because his pride in himself is hurt and it is more than he can stand. The Christian, in all humility, says: “Lord, I have failed. I shall probably fail again. But that is my greatest cross. You were borne down to your repeated falls by the recurrence of my falling into sin and into the ways of imperfection. While I try to mend my ways, I shall bear my imperfections, my dissatisfactions with myself, bravely, since You were willing to bear these faults of mine, even to Calvary.”

TAKE UP THY CROSS

To lighten the burden of Christ’s cross, the Christian works to make his character as flawless as possible. He is not willing that Christ should be borne down again and again under the cross of his personal sins and imperfections. But he does not quarrel with himself. He does not become hopeless about the imperfections of his nature. He does not grow listless because he has failed. He realises that there is no other cross as heavy as the cross of self-knowledge. The Christian, knowing that Christ carried the cross of his sins for his sake, asks for the grace to carry that same cross bravely.

But there are also the lesser crosses, the crosses that others place upon us. And, as long as human beings are human, we cannot expect science to remove those crosses from our shoulders. The scientist, who is deep in the problem of fighting some disease that racks and tortures the human body, is likely enough, in the abstraction of his experiments, to snap at his secretary, be selfish with his laboratory assistant, and neglect his wife. It is known that an astoundingly large number of great social reformers have been difficult to live with. As long as men and women live and work side by side, they will, sad to admit, spend a large part of their time manufacturing crosses for one another.

ATTITUDES

There are two important attitudes that should be adopted in this matter of crosses from others: First, never, under any circumstances, go about expecting crosses from others. The person who seems actually to expect his associates to present him with crosses which, out of love for his fellows, he intends to bear with heavy patience and for a11 the world to see, is one of the most obnoxious mortals alive. He takes the most unintentional slight as a cross, and he lets it be known that he is bearing a cross. In fact, his exasperating patience beneath the weight of a cross we never meant to give him makes us want to present him with a real cross. Other people are constantly getting on his nerves. It is a little difficult to see what right he has to the unlimited luxury of “nerves” in this regard. His feelings are constantly being hurt. He is hurt if spoken to; he is hurt if ignored. If you ask him to help you with a job, he is being imposed upon; if youdon’t ask for his help, he is being overlooked. If he is consulted, he replies, with weary patience, “Oh, whatever you say”; if he isn’t consulted, he murmurs, in aggrieved fashion, “No one ever considers my opinion worth having.”

There are enough real crosses in life; we don’t have to go around manufacturing them. And men and women who make crosses out of their own heads had better look to the source of the material. No one has a right to expect crosses from others. And the wise man is the one who hardly notices the crosses that others are sending his way.

CONSIDERATION

The second attitude to take is that of firm and vigorous determination never under any circumstances to present a cross to someone else. There is always someone in our life who finds us difficult. Each of us is a nuisance to someone else; it cannot be helped. But one of the sweetest ways of bearing life’s crosses is to see to it that, as far as possible, we are a cross to no one else.

Do unpleasant mannerisms jolt and annoy you? Then do not let unpleasant mannerisms appear in your dealing with others. Find out what it is that you dislike in others, and. be sure that those things do not occur in yourself. Does the inconsiderateness of others bear down on you? Then be considerate in your dealings with your associates. Does the selfishness of others cause you pain and unhappiness? Then never permit your conduct to place such crosses on your associates.

BEYOND THE PERSON

When a real cross comes, the wise Christian accepts it, but uses all human ingenuity to put aside all personal rancour. The saint looks beyond the person who has offered that particular cross and sees the vague but clear outline of God the Father. It is hard to forgive human beings who place crosses upon our shoulders. It is easy to see that when God sends a cross He has some high purpose that concerns His own glory, our happiness, and the salvation of souls.

This much is certain: The greater the saint, the larger the number of his crosses and the richer and deeper the measure of his happiness. The saint is overpowered by the sight of the world’s sin. He staggers at the thought of men’s reckless rushing towards ruin. He measures his actual accomplishments for God on the scale of his ambitions to serve God and he becomes the richer in humility. He accepts the labour of hard missions and difficult assignments. He aspires to work for the more repulsive types of people. And small sins seem vast and horrible in his eyes.

HAPPINESS

Yet the saint is never really unhappy. Sorrow scarcely touches the inner core of his happiness. He looks upon each trial as a chance to help Christ carry His cross. Every pain he suffers is another step up the ladder of the cross. He contrasts Christ’s innocence with his own guilt, and is abashed at the small measure of pain and suffering that Christ asks of him. He flings out his arms towards the cross in the desire to take Christ’s place, to relieve to some extent the agony of the God-Man he loves.

THE INVINCIBLE STANDARD

We Catholics need have no real sorrows. We need experience no pain. We need have only crosses; only the feel of the rough wood brushing against our shoulders. Real unhappiness has no place in our lives. We should feel privileged to be allowed to help the Saviour a little along the rough way of His Passion. No weight, however crushing it may seem, need ever press us to the earth. We carry our crosses, not alone, but in the company of Christ who through His cross gained a world and conquered forever sin and death and all the enemies of mankind.

The cross should have a place on our desks.

The cross should look down from our walls.

And into our life the shadow of the cross falls, not ugly and terrifying, but with the large shadow that is cast by the glowing Figure of the God-Man, who bore our iniquities and was bruised for our offences.

In the cross is light and life and hope and happiness.

Nihil obstat:

J. DONOVAN

Censor Deputatus.

Imprimatur:

@ D. MANNIX.

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis

********

The Lady Was Immaculate

BY DANIEL A. LORD, S.J

INDEX

AREN’T we fortunate? At least we can always brag that we had one perfect woman. That should be important for us of this century. We haven’t made up our mind how to treat women, and women haven’t made up their mind how they want to be treated. We don’t quite know what we want from them, and they are very confused about what they want from us.

Yes, the twentieth century has got women all mixed up. We moderns idealize them and commercialize them; we adore them and we degrade them. We demand that they lift us up and insist that they let us drag them down. We are maudlin about mothers, but we give the publicity to the childless divorcees.

Two generations ago [from 1954] a famous theatrical producer talked about “Glorifying the American Girl” and started fashions that have been pretty tough on the decent.

We make them the mistress of our purses, but we fill those same purses by using them in advertisements that must make them blush, and bait our commercial hooks with their beauty.

Today marriage is the climax of all romantic fiction and theatre; and the start of the problems of the divorce court, the soap opera, and the sessions on the psychiatrist’s couch.

One of our standard jokes, along with the mother-in-law, is the Before and After Marriage Jest.

“Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!

Pardon the laughter!

That was before,

But this is after.”

ONE PERFECT WOMAN

Yet poets and philosophers, painters and theologians, saints and historians have a way of agreeing that we had and still have one perfect woman. “Our tainted nature’s solitary boast,” as the Protestant poet Wordsworth sang in one of literature’s most frequently quoted lines.

Strangely enough, Buddha is the world’s most reproduced male figure: more artists have carved him in stone and painted him in frescoes than any man that ever lived. But Mary is the world’s most painted woman. More women are called Mary or one of the names taken from Mary (Marian, Marion, Miriam, Marie, Marilyn, Maureen, and so on) than are named after any other woman that ever lived.

Wise Jews are proud that she comes in the long line of their distinguished Jewish women. Moslems usually speak of Jesus as the Son of Miriam. And only in very recent times, when some off-brands of Christianity thought to honour the Son by plaguing and distorting the Mother, has any Christian failed to be proud that Christianity gave the world the lovely Maid, the pure Virgin, the glorious Mother, the outstanding Heroine of all history.

IT STARTS WITH CHRIST

Catholics never forget that Mary begins with Christ.

In point of time, of course, it is the other way around. In point of importance and logic and understanding, the

Mother begins with the Son.

But that is true of our whole Catholic world. Everything really begins or takes its new and true meaning from

Christ.

The New World and the New Age begin with the Son of God.

He is the fulfilment and climax of one half of history, the fountain and inspiration of the other. He unites the universe as the eternal Son of God comes to earth from heaven to show us the face of the perfect God made the perfect man. Divinity glows in the star of Bethlehem, the Transfiguration on the Mount, the miracles and prophecies of a lifetime, the perfection of His character, the splendid heroism of His death, the utter wisdom of His teachings, the amazing purity of His law. His humanity is ours raised to heights which become our most challenging aspiration.

He is all-simple and all-wise;

He is all human struggle and all human power;

He is the subject of four small volumes and the study of the ages;

He is the sinless among the sinful, the brilliant among the dull, the consistent among the inconsistent, the clear among the confused, the brave among the weak, the pure among the fleshly;

He is the Carpenter who, before He handled hammer and saw and planks, had given form and law to the universe. Here is human perfection, the Perfect Man for whom philosophers had wistfully sighed. Here is our humanity at its highest, since it is divinity in humble disguise.

WHO FOR HIS MOTHER?

This is Jesus Christ, the man the world has never dared forget, however uncomfortable it finds His law. This is man, as man would be, if he truly were like God; and God, as God became, when He stooped to the level of our earthbound existence.

For this perfect man, whom could God select as mother?

For that matter, had we the selection, what kind of woman would we pick?

Certainly God would insist on a perfect mother for His perfect Son. And our sense of the fitness of things makes us give the same answer: Nothing less than feminine perfection to mother the perfect man.

Christ had for His one and only Father the all-perfect God. The mother chosen for that perfect Son by the allperfect God would in simple logic need to combine all the finest qualities we expect of motherhood, whether we mean the purity that precedes it or the absolute loyalty and gentleness, the care and tenderness that follow it.

Thus Christians (until very recent times) unanimously believed. They could not conceive a perfect Christ and a tainted Mother, an unselfish Son and a selfish, petty, irritable Dame. Like all mothers she gave Him life, was the very fountain from which His human nature took its origin; and then like all good mothers she gave Him His human education and training, her soul and heart and mind the sources of that “wisdom and age and grace” that marked His development. The Divine Nature of Christ proceeded from the Father in the mystery of the Blessed Trinity; the Human Nature was conceived by the Holy Spirit of the Mother on earth. It is inconceivable that that Mother should be other than as perfect as God’s grace and her co-operation could make her.

DEAR, FAMILIAR STORY

All who bother to learn the story of Mary, love it. It comes second in charm and graciousness to the story of Christ, her Son. Yet actually the two stories are so closely intertwined that the threads are often hard to distinguish. Where Mary is, Christ goes along. Where Christ goes, Mary follows Him.

The story of Mary had and retains its vivid and radiant climaxes:

The maiden of the Annunciation, dearest and best beloved figure in the whole history of painting. The swift-moving and tender nurse of Elizabeth, whose child John was born to prepare the way for her Son. The poetess of the Magnificat.

The incredibly beautiful Mother of the Nativity and the Queen of uncounted Christmas Days. The modest, humble worshipper offering her Son in the Presentation in the Temple.

The “safe conduct” that guaranteed the safety of the Holy Child in that wild and hazardous flight into Egypt. The dear companion of His Egyptian exile, and the guide of His safe return.

The loving mistress of the Holy House of Nazareth.

The successful pleader for His first miracle at Cana.

The self-obliterating watcher of His Public Life.

The heroic martyr upon Calvary.

The Mother whom He presents to mankind as a kind of final and climactic gift.

The security and centre of the frightened disciples during their wait for the coming of the Holy Spirit.

ENDLESS TRADITION

Out of the vast volumes of legend and memory, of safe tradition and exaggeratedly pious fancy, the Church had preserved the lovely facts about Mary which the Gospels do not mention. It was not likely that the early Christians would easily forget the Mother who gave them Christ and who remained after His Ascension to be the Mother of the early Church.

All the Christians have loved to recall the presentation of the Child Mary in the Temple, and the years she spent there serving the sanctuary and mastering the law and the love of God. They dwell with affection on Ann and Joachim, her parents, and the wonder of her too-long-delayed birth. They cherish her betrothal to Joseph and the day of their chaste and unselfish marriage. Saints have meditated on what a house that contained Jesus and was managed by Mary would be like and have joined their souls in meditation to that perfect household. And all Christianity from the earliest days knew that the body of Mary, which had been tabernacle to the Lord of Life, would not know captivity in the grave. The Assumption of Mary and her Coronation by her Son as Queen of Heaven is not something recent piety invented; it was being recalled when Christians spoke their glorious good news in whispers and by night within the catacombs.

MARY’S RETURNS

No generation has allowed the figure of Mary to seem a remote and distant reality. Her picture took on the features of every nation and race that painted her . . . and all of them did. Something extremely fitting suggested to Christians that they name their churches for her: if her body had housed the living presence of the Incarnate Son of God, her name seemed to fit perfectly upon the churches which retained His living Eucharistic Presence.

And lest she be for a moment forgotten, God sent her back to earth in a perfect litany of apparitions. Mary has beautifully woven together earth and Heaven by her gracious comings and goings. From Our Lady of the Pillar to Our Lady of Fatima, Catholics have found it singularly right and proper that this daughter of earth who became the Queen of Heaven would return to the sons and daughters entrusted to her by her Son on Calvary. You who do not accept Catholic Faith may not accept the visions by which Mary repeated her presence upon earth. We with the Faith would find it almost strange if she did not return. We think it the restless love of a Mother for her absent children that brings her back recurrently to their waiting hands and eyes and hearts.

Important Indeed

Candidly, we love Mary.

We love her for what she did for Christ, our Redeemer, and for the unbreakable connection she bore Him.

We love her for the dear Maid and gracious Mother she was in herself.

We are proud that the perfect Christ should have had for Mother the Perfect Woman. We are glad that the years of Christ on earth were spent in the pure, devoted, utterly unselfish companionship of earth’s most radiant yet modest, glorious yet humble, exalted yet retiring, brilliant yet (seldom and then poetically) eloquent Maid and Mother.

We thinkit important that God’s Son should have God’s own choice for His Mother. And we doubt that God would pick less than the best.

1954

The year 1954 is a highly significant year.

Because of its meaning, the Pope, Pius XII, pronounced it a Marian Year.

One hundred years ago from it, the Holy Father, Pius IX, speaking out of the power that was Peter’s, whose power had come with the voice of Christ, pronounced that belief in the Immaculate Conception of Mary was an article of Christian faith. We call it the Dogma of the Immaculate Conception.

Actually 1854, one century and more removed from us, is recent history by the standards of the Church. Christ had been dead and ascended into Heaven over eighteen hundred years. The body of revelation had been closed with the death of St. John the Evangelist eighteen centuries before.

How then did it happen that in that recent year, late in the Christian era, the Holy Father gave the world “a new dogma”? Even the word “dogma” has an unpleasant sound to many a non-Catholic ear. They forget that it simply means a Christian teaching, a revealed truth, one of God’s guideposts along the road to Heaven, a basic principle by which men can more inspiringly and effectively live, a rule of right conduct, a basis for deeper inquiry intoGod’s truth.

But “a new truth in 1854!” Isn’t this something added to Christian teaching? Isn’t it strange that at that late date Catholics are called upon to believe “something they had never believed before”?

OLD AS CHRISTIANITY AND OLDER

The fact is t hat the Dogma of the Immaculate Conception is as old as Christianity. We’ll explain it a little later, just what it means to Catholics. But now, turn instead to the first time that in Christian times the truth was declared.

The scene is a lovely little house in Nazareth where an engaged girl is busy about the kitchen of her old mother Ann and father Joachim. The leading characters are the Angel Gabriel, recently sent from the Throne of God with history’s most important message, and the young woman who was shortly to marry the village carpenter whose name was Joseph.

In the stark, detail-less mastery of essentials that characterizes the Gospel, we hear the Angel speak.

“Hail, full of grace!” he cries. “The Lord is with thee.”

Never had words, since “Let there be light” rang out from the Creative Voice of God, been so packed with meaning.

“Hail!” he cried, addressing her as one who rated the greeting of high Heaven. “Full of grace,” he called her. He did not call her “holy” or “saintly” or “my good woman!” He looked upon her with the vision of an angel and found her full of grace. More than that, at a time when the Gates of Heaven had been slammed shut by sin and God no longer dwelt with the children of men, the Angel saw that here was an exception: the Lord God was with her. Because she was full of grace, she knew the indwelling of God. And because God was with her, she was filled with grace.

THIS BEFORE CHRIST CAME

Now it is important to remember that Christ had not as yet come to redeem us. In fact, His coming hinged on a decision which this young woman would presently make. Mankind had not yet been saved. Grace was not flowing in the abundant streams that were to be released by the hands of the Saviour. It was an almost graceless world, a world without God’s intimate and affectionate presence.

Yet the Angel looked upon Mary and found her different.

She was not just a good woman, she was filled with the grace of God. She was not someone upon whom a remote God smiled in approval; the Lord of heaven and earth was with her.

Now the Jewish wise man had said gravely that the just man falls seven times a day. Mary was more than merely just; she was filled with the life and power of God which is grace. She was pleasing in the sight of the Creator Who turned away in distaste from sin and defect and evil.

In a world of sin, Mary shone like the bright Morning Star.

Her beauty of soul was the Aurora preceding the coming of the Sun of Justice. The clear vision of the Angel saw her for what she was, saw her with the vision of God Himself, and he hailed her as no creature was hailed before or since.

This was not a goddess; Christians have never claimed or thought she was. Here is a woman beloved of God.

Here is not infinity; but perfect cleanness of soul.

HER CONSENT

The Angel Gabriel knew his mission and was swiftly about it. He came because the Redemption of mankind was at hand. But as man had been responsible by disobedience, for the Fall, so a man had to be responsible by obedience for the beginnings of our restoration. A maid had unleashed upon mankind the evils of the Fall; a maid must speak the words that restored mankind to its lost heritage.

In a moment the Angel would ask her consent to mother the coming Redeemer.

His angelic eyes would have turned away from her had she been a child of sin.

Could the destroyer of sin, about to come, enter the world through a woman stained by Adam’s and Eve’s guilt?

Mary was too important for Redemption to be herself unredeemed. She was soon to mother the all pure Son of God; she dare not be herself even slightly soiled.

She was to be Mother of the Son of the Most High, Partner with the Eternal Fatherhood of God, Bride of the Holy Spirit. Could such a one be the victim of Sin, her own personal sin or sin inherited from the father of the human race?

Gabriel knew he stood before the body that was to give flesh to the stainless Redeemer of mankind. She must be pure in thought, word, will, and affection.

He was in the presence of the soul that was to envelop Christ from conception through all His formative years. She could not be, even in passing, the partner of the Devil, the Adversary, the Spirit of Evil.

Her character and cast of thought were to be passed on to her Child. She would teach Him and be the model for the long years of His human development. God would not take her for so precious and exacting a task if He found her spotted and warped and out of true balance and line.

What Gabriel saw was a woman not touched by grace, but full of it; not a girl of whom God approved, but with whom God had taken His abiding residence.

This was no ordinary saint, nor even one of the extraordinary souls selected by God for some high responsibility among men. Here was a woman filled by God with grace from on high. Here was a maid fit to be mother to the Son of the Eternal.

FARTHER BACK STILL

The story of Mary goes far, far back into history, long before we even hear her name.

It begins with the sin of a woman. Eve too had been full of grace. Because she was to be the mother of all God’s children upon earth, God had given her His love and His grace. Then in the sad flirtation of Paradise, she turned from God’s love to embrace the love of the crawling serpent, evil in its most repellent form. Her hand had led her husband to temptation and her love had lured him into sin. And as the unlucky two gazed upon the ruins of their world, they heard the rustling of the underbrush where the serpent slithered away in slimy triumph.

Dead was their inner life.

Gone was their right to call God their Father.

Already they felt within them the stirrings of vicious temptations from which they had been spared. They had used their will to choose God’s enemy in preference to Him and their will felt sick within them. All history opened before them ready to be written in blood and tears.

And they knew their guilt.

Then the voice rang out in promise. The slithering in the underbrush stopped as the voice of God brought the

Adversary to sharp halt. This time the threat was directed at him.

“I will place enmity between you and the woman, between your seed and her seed; and she shall crush your head; and you shall lie in wait for her heel.”

Falling back from his reared position in the dead leaves, Satan must have heard the words in bewilderment. The woman? what woman? He was surely not afraid of Eve. He had already won over her the easiest of victories. Was there some woman soon to come with heel destined to grind his head into the mud? As he scampered away to drop his evil disguise and to resume in hell and on the earth he had wrecked his thousand still uglier forms, Satan must have puzzled, wondered, watched, appraised every good woman who resisted him to some extent, grown a little cynical about the threatened woman, and finally become almost careless.

He probably invented for womankind the title “the weaker sex.” Eve had sorrowed, but she had not sought him out to slay him. She had wept, but she had not caused him any major anxiety. Actually she saw sin triumphing about her.

Her strong first-born, Cain, invented murder to practise it upon her dearly loved Abel. She bore her children in pain to see them reach the age of reason and turn it into the age of sinful consent. Satan soon lost all fear that Eve would be the woman, her heel finding his head.

The Jewish nation produced more than its share of notable and noble women. The Greeks and the Romans were proud of Vestal Virgins and devoted matrons. Each in turn Satan regarded with speculative eyes. Their heels never sought or by chance found him. His head they did not bloody or bow.

Sometimes we can believe that Mary was hidden away in the obscure village of Nazareth and in the tiny cottage of

Ann and Joachim in a divine and effective effort to hoodwink the Adversary. Undoubtedly he was watching the palaces and the mansions. He did not dream that from pious poverty and the humble home of a royal line would come the Woman of Prophecy.

Yet Mary was the one. From her would come the Seed which descended from Abraham, the Seed that would conquer the prolific seed of Satan. Her virginal heel would rest squarely upon the head of the Adversary. He would, while she lived and once she was enthroned in Heaven, dread her with unholy hatred born of experience. Mary would never for a moment be in his power.

He would be under her heel, not she under his.

She would be neither his partner, his pawn, his victim, nor his slave.

She would bring forth the expected Seed that meant the ruin of the Adversary, Satan, the brutal enemy of God. Her otherwise gentle heel would force his head back into the depths of hell.

All this demanded untouchable purity. All this meant a woman far beyond the power or dominion of Satan. All this implied an immaculate Maid who was a spotless Mother, and who had never been other than Full of Grace and with

God.

WHAT DOES IT MEAN?

What does the Church mean when it speaks of the Immaculate Conception? Of the many, many non-Catholics whom I have heard object to this teaching, not one has ever really known what it meant. They were all angry about something the Church never taught. They objected to a supposed truth which is not Catholic truth at all.

Even George Bernard Shaw, I caught explaining the Immaculate Conception as if it meant that Mary had no father.

“I violently object to your Immaculate Conception,” says my good non-Catholic friend. “Only Jesus Christ was born without a father.”

“One virgin birth is enough for Christianity,” says another, expressing the same objection slightly differently. “I believe in Christ’s Virgin Birth; I do not believe in any other.”

Now it is very important to remember that the Virgin Birth of Christ and the Immaculate Conception of Mary are two entirely different things.

Jesus had no earthly father. Mary certainly did.

Jesus was not born as the result of marital relationship between a husband and a wife. Mary was.

Jesus had one divine Father in Heaven; one human Mother on earth. Mary had a father, Joachim, and a mother, Ann.

The birth of Jesus was a miraculous thing. The birth of Mary was wholly natural.

SOMETHING FAR DIFFERENT

The fact is that most people who object to the Immaculate Conception haven’t the slightest idea of what is meant by Original Sin. And if you don’t understand Original Sin, it’s a waste of time talking about the Immaculate Conception.

The word “immaculate” is clear enough in use. It means that a person is absolutely pure, spotless, without taint or blemish, and totally filled with grace.

We speak of an immaculate or spotless reputation. In so doing we are using the word a little carelessly, but we know what we mean. We say a man has immaculate or unquestionable honesty. Here is a girl of such purity that we think of her as immaculately virgin. That is a very high compliment, and hard to merit.

Now when we speak of the Immaculate Mary, the Immaculate Virgin, the Immaculate Mother, we use the adjective correctly. We mean that she did not know sin in any way that touched herself. She did not sin in thought or word or deed or desire. She was “full of grace” in all the states of life that were hers; and “the Lord was with her” every moment of every day.

But we Catholics believe that this immaculate character of her soul was something that began the instant her soul was created. At the very instant that her parents united in their marital love and her tiny germ-like body was formed in Ann’s holy womb, the soul that came to give it life was totally free from sin.

She was immaculate the instant she was conceived. This is what we mean by the Immaculate Conception.

ADAM’S STRANGE SIN

But, the puzzled will insist, isn’t that true of everyone?

Am I suggesting that the rest of the human race is guilty of sin when the soul enters the body at conception? Is a little tiny infant, without power or will or reason or movement, capable of sinning? Isn’t this absurd? What makes Mary any different from any child of good, sound, wholesome, God-fearing parents?

To understand that we have to backtrack a bit and remember Adam and the first human sin of all.

The sin of Adam was a sin of disobedience. God had given him a simple command which was the test of his obedience and love and gratitude. Adam disobeyed God, broke the command, and sinned.

This was, of course, his own personal sin. The guilt rested on his own soul. Because of it, he was no longer God’s friend. He had lost the right to call himself the son of God. His soul was dead within him; the divine life of grace destroyed.

Thus far, except for his greater light and knowledge and strength of character and closer association with God, his sin was like all human sins. He was a disobedient son, but the world has been filled with disobedient sons. He had flouted the law of God, but so would countless millions of murderers and criminals. He had turned to the love of a woman, preferring her to the all-good, all-generous, all-loving Father, as other millions would do as long as men are men and women women. He had become the partner of Satan, God’s relentless enemy; but then, the Devil was to win the co-operation of more men than he bothered to count until they were checked in for final judgement.

This personal sin was terrible, but was not the end.

For Adam was the Father of the Human Race.

So the sin of which he was guilty, under a second aspect was called Original Sin.

ORIGINAL SIN

Sometimes we talk of Original Sin as we talk of original music or original inventions. You’d think it was something fresh and new and different and hitherto undiscovered. In a way, that is true, for this was the first sin, the start of sin, something new on the earth. Yet some of the angels had sinned through disobedience in Heaven. They had rebelled and tried to drive God out of His own kingdom. In the sense of first and fresh and new and undiscovered, this angel rebellion was the original sin.

Adam’s Original Sin means something different. It is sin at the origin of our race, It is sin of the original man. It is the sin committed by him, Adam, who is the originator of life for all the rest of mankind. It is the origin of our woes and misfortunes. It originated the great problems that were to stain the course of history and the record of human life.

To understand this a little more clearly, let’s take a comparison: Suppose that somewhere back in history you had a rich and noble ancestor. He is trusted by his country, high in the confidence of the king, honoured with titles, and rich in lands and resources. It happens to the amazement of his contemporaries and the bewilderment of historians ever since, that your ancestor turns traitor. He goes over to the side of the invader; he rebels against the country, government, and king; he takes up arms, fights with the rebels and invading forces and in the end goes down with them to defeat.

His crime of high treason is, of course, his own.

What he suffers by way of just punishment when he falls into the hands of the king and the loyal government is his own personal affair.

Unfortunately for you, however, that is not the end. He had those titles, that rank, those lands, that wealth. All are lost when he takes part in the rebellion. He was a rich man; he dies poor. He would have left you a title, the castle, his vast wealth. Actually he leaves you nothing, for he has nothing left to leave.

Today you look back regretfully and wonder why he was such a fool. People have a way of remembering you are a descendant of a famous traitor. You have none of the things he once had and tossed away in the folly of his rebellion. You may blame him; you are poorer because of his crime. Though you are not punished by the present government because of his personal crime, you actually suffer very considerably because of things you might have had but never will have because he threw them all down the drain by his crime of treasonous rebellion.

THE PARALLEL IS SIMPLE

We do not sharein Adam’s and Eve’s personal sin.

That was their own crime, and for that they knew their own personal punishment.

But Original Sin is something different. It is the loss of all the precious things, those supernatural and preternatural gifts, which God had given Adam for himself and, through him, for us and which he lost in his treason and rebellion.

You see, there are certain things which God gave us that belong to our nature: our power to digest, to propagate, to walk, to use our senses; our power to think, to choose right or wrong; our immortality. This is part of our nature; and God took none of these things away from the rebellious Adam and Eve.

But in addition to these, God had given His son and daughter marvellously generous gifts. They did not properly belong to human nature but were added to it. That is why they were called Supernatural Gifts, gifts above our nature.

Man was immortal; but God added to this the promise that our immortality would be something like His own eternity. We would be happy not as mere men could be, but as God is; for we would possess Him and see and know and love Him as He sees and knows and loves and possesses Himself.

To make that possible, God adopted Adam and Eve as His children and gave them divine power which we call grace. This is a tremendous power, like the very power of God. We have no right to it by our nature; God gave it to men because He wanted them to be like Himself.

God gave Adam and Eve the right to inherit Heaven. God’s own Heaven at the end of earthly life would be theirs.

All this they lost in their treason. Had they kept these lovely and gloriously rich blessings, they would have passed them on to us their children. Once they were lost, Adam had nothing to leave us. He was poor and we were born poor.

This loss of those things which God had given to Adam and Eve is Original Sin. We are born in Original Sin because we are born without the right to Heaven, without grace which is the divine power, and without the “adoption of the sons of God.”

ADDED LOSSES

Allmen and women are conscious of what St. Paul calls the “war in our members.” The pagan poet referred to this in that familiar expression: “I see the better things and approve of them, and then find that I go chasing off after the worse.” We are often amazed at ourselves: What makes us, in the midst of good resolutions, suddenly find ourselves acting like beasts? Why do we in holy places have evil thoughts? Why does the flesh lure us to stupid and criminal acts?

Why does my mind say “Do” while my senses say “Don’t?”

Why am I so easily thrown off balance? So easily upset? So quick to break my best resolutions So prone to evil?

What about all this that is called concupiscence, the concupiscence of the eye, the concupiscence of the flesh, and the pride of life?

Was man made that way?

Does God delight to see him torn apart between resolutions and failure, high ideals and low temptations?

All this is part of Original Sin. Adam and Eve were created in perfect balance. They saw things clearly. Their will was strong and firm. They could measure temptation with a just appraisal. Their flesh was under control and never rebelled against them. They were part of the perfect balance that they saw in the world around them. The stars followed the paths marked for them without erupting into fantastic forays on other stars. Nature moved in its calm and beautiful cycles. Even the animals obeyed God’s natural law. And so did Adam and Eve.

But their rebellion threw all that out of balance. It was a strange, cruel, unreasonable, illogical thing which they did

- to turn from God to the serpent, to believe the lies of the Adversary instead of the firm and beautiful promises of their Father and Creator. They did not sin out of a great, fierce temptation, coupled with hot rebellion of the flesh. They sinned almost coolly, gravely, calmly, without great pressure and in the face of sublime knowledge and great internal power.

OUR LOSS FOREVER

So it was that their minds were clouded and darkened. They had thrown their natures out of balance; their wills were sick and weakened. Concupiscence, formerly in calm control, now broke loose and caused endless trouble. They had unsettled themselves and unsettled the whole human race. And that unsettlement too came to us with Original Sin.

We find it slow to learn. We see darkly and often confusedly. We swing wildly between right or wrong, good and bad. We find ourselves ever battling with our flesh. We are unsettled, unbalanced, at war with ourselves and often at odds with the universe around us.

Had Adam been faithful, we would have known his calm and balance, clear vision and strong will. He sinned, he lost this almost automatic control of himself; and his confusion and unbalance and rebellions came down to us.

So Original Sin is really not a personal sin at all. It is an inherited loss. It is a deprivation of something God wanted me to have and Adam threw away before I even got the chance to inherit it. It is a kind of spiritual bankruptcy, a sort of susceptibility to spiritual bad health passed on from my ancestors, as material bankruptcy and bad health pass along from careless or wastrel forebears.

Original Sin shows itself in a weakness of soul and a sinister strength of rebellious flesh. It is clearly shown in my inclination to senseless and stupid and destructive ill and evil. It accounts for the fact that repulsive sin seems attractive and the Devil in a thousand disguises can trick us with apparent ease.

CHRIST WINS BACK

But in the Providence of God, things were not to stay wrecked.

What one disobedient son had ruined, an obedient Son would restore. The wreckage of the first man was to be rebuilt into order and beauty by the Greatest of the Sons of Men. Since man had destroyed, man must repair. Since a son had gone bankrupt, a Son must win back the inheritance. What Adam had thrown away in reckless prodigality, Christ would regain in labour and suffering and final death.

That is the simple Christian belief.

Christ came into the world, the perfect Son of God.

As man He was and had all that Adam had once been and possessed.

As man He would win all this back for all mankind.

But this time God would not give it freely as He had to Adam. Each man who would come to the age of reason would have to decide for himself whether he wanted to be God’s son, to inherit Heaven, to possess the divine life or grace, and to win those strengths and aids that would help him rebalance his nature.

Christ won all this on Calvary.

He gave the sacramental system to the Church, beginning with Baptism, by which men can with God’s grace take for themselves what Adam had lost, what Christ Himself possessed and won for all of us, and what God in His Providence desires us all to hold now and forever.

AS FOR MARY

We are all conceived in Original Sin.

But we all have it in our power to win back, as life progresses, the things which were lost in Original Sin. Was this the case of Mary?

Christians who thought rightly never really believed that it was. They knew that the Mother of the All-Pure must be immaculate. Since Christ was to be born as the new Adam, Mary could not be like the sinful Eve. Since He was to conquer the Adversary, how could He bear the scornful laughter of that Adversary who would cry out, “Once on a time, your Mother was in my power. The flesh that gave you birth was once inclined to evil. You are the Son of God, but once on a time, your Mother was not the daughter of God. You are the Fountain of Grace, but once at her conception your Mother was graceless. Yes, you are with her now; but there was a time when the Lord was not with her.” Such mocking laughter might well make hideous disharmony in the plans of Christ.

So Christians knew that Mary could never have been stained and soiled and tainted by Original Sin. She had to be God’s daughter always. She must ever be full of grace. The Lord would have been with her from the beginning. And her flesh could never have known the concupiscence, or her nature, the constant unbalance that is the consequence of Original Sin.

They all knew it had to be.

But how?

REASON FOR DELAY

That is why the proclamation of the dogma came so late. The Church had always believed Mary was immaculate.

The Saints called her Mary Immaculate. Theologians were sure this was true. But they had a difficulty: In point of time, Mary comes before Christ.

She was conceived and born long before He had brought about our salvation.

So since our salvation had not been won until Christ died on Calvary at the age of 33, when His Mother was at least forty-eight, how could she have been free from the guilt of Adam at the moment of her conception, almost five decades before?

Slowly they saw the explanation.

They had always been sure of the fact. Original sin in Mary? How dreadful! How out of line! How totally undignified for the Mother of the world’s Saviour.

BUT HOW?

Well, they knew that there were Saints in the days before Christ came to earth. True, when they died they did not go to Heaven, however holy they might be, not until Christ had come, died, and released them from Limbo (the Limbo of the ancients). They had been forced to remain in Limbo until our Redemption had been completed. Yet they had won back their right to Heaven; they had become adopted sons of God; they had gained grace, and the strength to balance their lives and hold their passions in check. This they had done by faith in the Messiah and the hope that He would come to save them. They had anticipated His death; and in anticipation of His death and because they believed He would come and save them, they got the grace before He actually died. They could not enter Heaven. Yet they had been saved by what He would do when His time had arrived.

So, said the theologians in a sudden burst of light, it’s really very simple:

Mary as a daughter of Adam would have been in Original Sin.

God, however, looked ahead and saw how pure and holy her life would be under any circumstances. She would have shunned temptation and lived without personal sin.

Here was someone who might well be chosen to be the Mother of the Saviour.

But the Mother of the Saviour must be protected against those evils which lie in Original Sin. She must always be the adopted daughter of God. She must always have the divine life of grace. If she is to welcome God from Heaven, she must have the right to Heaven. And God must see that she has the balance of life, the clearness of mind, the strength of character and will which befit the Perfect Mother of the Perfect Man.

So in anticipation of the death of her Son, because He would win back all that Adam had lost, God gave to Mary in advance what He gave to the people of the Old Law through their act of faith and gives to us today through Baptism and the other sacraments.

As Pius XII states in his Marian Year encyclical, the infinite dignity of Jesus Christ and His office of universal redemption is not diminished by this, but rather is greatly increased.

HAPPY TRUTH

In an age when the purity of women is so attacked and smirched, at a time when pure mothers are vitally important, when sin must be conquered at its roots, and the Adversary, now winning so much support in powerful quarters, must be completely vanquished, the Church determined to remind the world of what Christians had always believed.

The Mother of the Immaculate Christ is herself immaculate.

Of course, she never knew personal sin. She loved God too much for that.

But because she was to be the Mother of the Saviour, she was saved from taint in advance of His death. She was without touch of Original Sin from the first moment of her being. She was brought into the world with all the gifts that God had given to Eve. Never even slightly was she under the power of man’s enemy and God’s Adversary.

Mary is our pure Mother and the spotless example for womankind.

This is the meaning of the Immaculate Conception.

Could anything be more reasonable?

Could anything more completely explain the facts?

********

The Legion of Mary

A WORK OF GOD FOR OUR DAY

BY THE MOST REVEREND LEON J. SUENENS, D.D., AUXILIARY BISHOP OF MALINES

INDEX

(From Capuchin Annual. 1956–57)

THE age in which we live is characterized by several currents of Grace which, like a ground swell, rise up through the whole Church. They are due to the action of the Holy Ghost, Who works in souls, and are the completion of the ever-present mystery of Pentecost. Today, two currents dominate the life of the Church: the Marian current and the apostolic current.

THE MARIAN CURRENT

To say that we live in a Marian age is almost commonplace, so repeatedly has evidence of the fact been afforded us. The glorification of the Blessed Virgin, starting from the mystery of the Immaculate Conception, which the Marian Year commemorated, and swelling to the apotheosis of the Assumption, which we have just honoured, compels the attention of Catholics to that Marian mediation, whose forms theology may discuss, but whose warm and captivating reality can no longer be questioned. The Reverend Father Doncoeur said once, referring to the youth of the time: “This generation. nourished on dogma and the Eucharist, will do great things, but it has still to discover the Blessed Virgin.” The discovery is taking place under our eyes.

THE APOSTOLIC CURRENT

Together with that reawakening of the Marian Spirit, our day is experiencing another renewal. Under the action of the same Spirit, this generation is rediscovering the apostolic sense inherent in our Baptism and perfected by Confirmation. We are developing a keener consciousness of the responsibility that binds us to our brothers. We are feeling anew the urgent claim of the apostolate, not on the priest and his immediate co-workers alone, but on all the faithful.

Can it be that the Holy Ghost, Who inspires at once the rediscovery of Mary and the revival of the apostolic spirit, has established no link between these spiritual currents, and that His action follows two merely parallel, or even dissimilar, courses ? Should we not rather conclude that these Marian and apostolic Graces move together towards one point and that the hour has come to accept and to unite what, in the sight of God, belongs to the same mystery of love: Marian piety and the duty of apostolic action?

We believe that it is so indeed, and, from this meeting of two streams, we may understand the apostolic significance of Marian piety or if it is preferred, the Marian significance of the apostolate. It is easily seen how profitable that blending is, both for piety and practice.

UNITED IN THE LEGION

Once we have understood the theological unity joining the apostolate and devotion to Mary, we have grasped what it is that constitutes the greatness of the Legion of Mary, which expresses admirably the union of the apostolic movement and the Marian movement. That is why it is one of God’s choice blessings for our time.

We have but to look at the Vexillum of the Legion of Mary, to see expressed as a symbol this unity that we have noted.

The Legion of Mary, an organization springing from devotion to Our Lady, is shown to us as a profoundly supernatural work by its entire dependence on the Holy Ghost, in and through Mary, Union with Mary is the key to its success and the mystery of its fruitfulness.

The best Legionary is not the one who is most eloquent, best educated, most highly gifted, but simply the one who is most closely united to Mary, who, in this way, shares best her spiritual motherhood. Going to men by Mary and in Mary he acquires over them the power that a mother exerts over her children. Hence the universal appeal of the Legion, which calls upon all men, even the poorest. I am more and more forcibly struck by the marvellous power of the Legion of Mary to discover apostles everywhere; in every order and every rank of society, and to set them to work. The secret of this success lies in the Marian union which links each member to his Queen. It is for this reason that the Legion constantly reiterates the need to nourish our spiritual life, that we may be instruments of God. As each new group is founded its first step it to seek for prayers, that is to enrol auxiliaries and adjutorians, who will co-operate by the spiritual power of prayer, with the work of the active members. Again at the meeting itself, this spirit of prayer shines out from the start. The statue of the Blessed Virgin standing there shows plainly that it is she who is in command and invites all to go on their knees. The whole meeting is steeped in prayer, at the beginning, in the middle, and at the end. That half-way prayer was a wonderful discovery, human nature so easily asserts itself wherever men are gathered together. And when they rise to say the Catena, it is as though a breath of fresh air enters, and the supernatural puts its mark afresh on the gathering.

And that is not all: besides days of recollection and retreats, the Legionaries wrap their apostolic visits in an atmosphere of prayer, knowing that where there are two or three gathered together in the name of the Lord, there is He in the midst of them.

All this disposes souls for the stirrings and inspirations of the Holy Ghost, and makes them ready to receive the promised Grace at the moment when it is needed; that they may say the word that is called for, the word that touches hardened hearts and wins spiritual victories.

The Legion of Mary owes its strength to the supernatural spirit which animates and envelops it. And it is from that spirit that the Legion draws the courage for great enterprises in the service of our brothers.

SPIRITUAL TRANSFORMATION

Since the day when the editor of a Communist newspaper was converted and obtained leave from the Cardinal of Malines to launch the organization in my country, almost seven hundred praesidia have come into being and are flourishing. For anyone who knows what each group stands for, in hidden, persevering self-sacrifice, this result is a notable one. The fruits of the work are there to show that God’s hand is in it.

Since the Legion was introduced into my country, many graces have passed through its hands. But the principal fruit has been the spiritual transformation of the Legionaries themselves. Thus once again are Our Lord’s words verified: “Whosoever will save his life shall lose it.” He, who gives, receives; it is by spreading one’s faith that one makes it live. The Legion of Mary has given us a practical illustration of that promise of Our Lord.

THREE TRIBUTES

“The Legion of Mary is a power for good wherever it is in operation. My desire for it to be extended to every parish arises principally from this that the Holy Father wishes that in every parish there should be the exercise of Catholic Action, and there is no more appropriate means of Catholic Action being exercised in individual parishes than by the establishment of the Legion of Mary.”

-Cardinal Gilroy, 28th October, 1955.

“The Holy Father himself has approved and blessed your organization and encouraged its officers. I personally tell you that I value very much your efforts. I pray and hope that your members will grow in the Christian virtues and persevere in the apostolate and that very many of your fellow Catholics will come into your ranks to help you to cope with the immense tasks that lie before you.”

-Archbishop Carboni, 25th Feb., 1955.

“I am always glad to do anything I can for the Legion of Mary. It is doing a great deal for the diocese of Melbourne, for the whole of Australia and practically for the whole Christian world. It is the greatest spiritual work started in recent times.”

-Archbishop Mannix, 29th April, 1958.

JOURNEY OF A THOUSAND LEAGUES by John Murray

(From Capuchin Annual, 1956–57)

THE ancient Chinese proverb says: “A journey of a thousand leagues begins with a single step,” and there is an appropriateness in beginning the story of the Legion of Mary with a Chinese proverb.

That first step, so pregnant with destiny, was taken when, in a day in September, 1921,-a historic year in

Ireland-two young women spoke simply, but with great fervour, the wish of their heart: “Could we not have a society for visiting the women in the South Dublin Union?” They got their wish. The step was taken which was to carry the name and the activity of the Legion of Mary from Myra House to the farthest corner of the earth- finally, to become a symbol of hope and courage, on the one hand, and of hatred and fear on the other, in the vast recesses of ancient

Cathay-now Communist China.

The Legion took root from the Society of Saint Vincent de Paul. It was at a monthly meeting of men and women held at Myra House that the above-mentioned question was asked. The proceedings at the meeting were somewhat similar to a Legion meeting. A variety of activities were reviewed, including the business of a branch of the Pioneer

Total Abstinence Society, the Rosary was recited, and the meeting closed with the recitation of the Angelus, when the bell of the church opposite rang out. Afterwards the custom developed of having an informal talk on some subject of a religious nature-followed by a cup of tea. On this occasion, Mr. Matt Murray, now caretaker of Myra House, had been describing his visitation, as a member of the St. Vincent de Paul Society to the patients in the South Dublin

Union, now known as St. Kevin’s Hospital. The ladies present were deeply moved and immediately sensed the need for a similar work in the visitation of the women’s wards of the vast institution. And so, volunteering their services and agreeing to recruit others, they fixed a meeting date, which happened to be 7 September, 1921. The first group of

Legionaries assembled on that Wednesday evening to serve under the banner of that Queen whose birthday was being inaugurated that evening in the Church’s First Vespers. On the table around which they assembled, one of the first arrivals had set up an altar, holding a statue of Our Lady of Grace (as in the Miraculous Medal), flanked by two vases of flowers and two candlesticks with lighted candles-all on a white cloth. This simple devotional setting, spontaneously arranged by an early comer, became the official setting for all future meetings of the Legion. Assembled around that table were fifteen girls, mostly in the late teens or early twenties, a priest, the late Father

Michael Toher, and a layman, Mr. Frank Duff. The girl who arranged that first Legion altar later became a religious in the Little Sisters of the Assumption, serving in London, New York and Montreal. The writer had the pleasure of meeting her in New York, in 1936, when she was serving the poor in the downtown East Side of Manhattan. She died in Montreal in 1943, on the anniversary of the foundation of the Legion. God rest her soul !

At that first meeting, the members began with the invocation and prayer to the Holy Ghost before reciting the

Rosary. Then they discussed their proposed work for the “least of Christ’s brethren” in the wards of the South Dublin

Union. Father Toher, then a curate of Saint Nicholas of Myra, Francis Street, Dublin, and, thirty years later, its Parish

Priest, gave the first Allocutio, or address, outlining for the members the doctrine of Mystical Body of Christ. In visiting the poor suffering, and sometimes degraded patients in that huge institution they must always see and serve

Christ in each person visited and do so in the Spirit of Mary serving her divine Son in the home of Nazareth. The only one among that first group who was not young, Mrs. Elizabeth Kirwan, a New Zealander by birth, was selected as president of the group, and later, when a curia, the precursor of the Concilium, was formed, she became its first president. Work was assigned to the members, each pair to visit a number of patients and report back at the next meeting. In their work, emphasis was placed on charity, perseverance and patience, and the urgent need of prayer for their work. They went out on their first visits, regarding themselves as the humble instruments of Our Lady in her mothering of souls. In speaking to the patients, they offered them a warm, human sympathy, listened attentively to their tales of sorrow, neglect and real or imagined grievances. They offered to write letters for them, to seek out relatives and friends and do other little services. Then, having demonstrated a practical sympathy, they offered advice and inspiration, showing them how they might make their sufferings golden talismans in winning for others the grace of conversion, and requesting them to undertake the regular recitation of the Rosary. Thus, among the patients and among their own relatives, friends and fellow-workers they recruited a large number of spiritual supporters, who soon formed the Legion’s auxiliary membership.

The organization was known as the Association of Our Lady of Mercy, during the first four years of its life. Later, in November, 1925, the name “Legion of Mary” was adopted. In December, 1930, the title praesidium was introduced and at the same time the term Concilium, marking the final “Latinisation” of the nomenclature of the organization.

TRINITY OF EVENTS

Undoubtedly, as the Legion gladly acknowledges, its early formation was influenced by the ready-made model of the Society of Saint Vincent de Paul. From it was adopted the weekly meeting, with its definite ritual of prayer, the weekly work-assignment, the individual report by each member, the work in pairs, the secret-bag collection and officerships-a spiritual director, president, vice-president, secretary and treasurer-for each branch. In addition, there was a spirit and tradition of solid and persevering performance of active work; basically the visitation of persons or families, either in their homes or in institutions. All of these have been carried over to the Legion and enshrined in its rules and constitutions. The monthly meeting at Myra House, referred to above, preceded the foundation of the Legion by several years and developed out of the Saint Patrick’s conference of the Saint Vincent de Paul Society. Hence, the deep intangible roots of the Legion might be said to stretch back into the foundation in Myra House of Saint Patrick’s Conference in 1917. Accepting this thesis one sees a remarkable trinity of events in that fateful year, Our Lady’s appearance at Fatima, the Russian Revolution and the “conception” of the Legion of Mary.

This coincidence at first sight may appear to be forced but, when examined, the thesis appears quite tenable. The nucleus of the Legion in its personnel was that little group attending the monthly Pioneer Council meeting in Myra House. It was in these informal “talks” after the gathering that the spirit which characterised the Legion from its first meeting was formed. In a consecutive number of these talks, Mr. Frank Duff had outlined to his listeners the True Devotion to Our Lady, as taught by Saint Louis Marie de Montfort in his Treatise. Those who established the Legion and guided the new movement from the first moment were those who had heard those spiritual talks each month at Myra House. If one seeks to trace the lineage of the organization back beyond its first formal meeting, it is through these informal meetings at Myra House, dating back to 1917, that it must be done. Here, indeed, in the trinity of events in 1917, we may be seeing the warp and the woof of one of God’s plans. Is it not consoling to think that as soon as a great evil takes shape, God, foreseeing its menace to souls, bring into existence through His Holy Mother the forces that are destined, in the divine plan, to combat and defeat Satan’s forces?

THE LEGION AND COMMUNISM

Incidentally, there is a strange and striking similarity in the methods and titles used by the Legion of Mary and International Communism. Each adopted the nomenclature of the legio or Legion of ancient Rome. The Legion of Mary uses praesidium as the name for the unit of organization, the branch. The Communists use the same term-who has not read the reports of meetings of the “Supreme Praesidium of the Soviets?” Also, the prayer-leaflet of the Legion, which every member uses, is called the Tessera. Only recently, was it learned, from our envoy in Italy, that the Communist Party membership card is also styled the Tessera. Another interesting point: the colour of the Communists is Red; again; the Legion’s colour is Red-the colour of the Holy Spirit and of Imperial Rome.

And now to return to our history. The Legion slowly grew and spread, sinking deep roots in its home-soil before venturing afield. When less than a year old, its first hostel, the fruit of heroic work, was founded, and Santa Maria Hostel opened its doors in Harcourt Street to its first residents, girls won from the life of the streets. In 1927, another hostel, the Morning Star, for homeless and destitute men was opened. That year also the first branch outside Dublin was formed in Waterford. In 1928 the Legion took wings overseas and a branch was erected in Glasgow, Scotland. Then, in 1929, The Reverend Mother Woodlock of the Sacred Heart Convent in Hammersmith, London, was instrumental in establishing the first branch in England. From England to India, a journey of a thousand leagues, was the next step and an English lady, whose husband was sheriff of Madras, brought with her, on returning to that city after a prolonged visit to England, a statue and other equipment for a Legion praesidium. Despite objections, urging the intense heat and racial barriers, she persevered, and in 1931 the first branch came to India, within a stone’s throw of the empty tomb of the Apostle Saint Thomas in the Cathedral at Mylapore, a suburb of Madras. Today, the Legion is in practically every diocese of India, with a senatus at Madras and another at Bombay. It has recently entered Goa, where there are three curiae and where the patriarch is most enthusiastic in his support of the Legion. The Legion is also working successfully in Pakistan, with curiae at Karachi, Lahore and other centres, In Burma, there is a senatus at Rangoon, and a flourishing group in Mandalay. The Irish Columban Fathers promote the Legion in the prefecture of Bhamo, where, in a junior praesidium, young boys cycled distances of twenty and forty miles over bad roads, to give catechetical instruction in pagan villages. One group of young girls, in six months visited thirty families and gave instruction to the members. They prepared twelve people for Baptism.

AUSTRALIA

In the year 1931, the Legion began in the United States. A group of miners of various European nationalities formed a praesidium in the State of New Mexico. The following year, priests and prelates from the four corners of the globe came to Dublin for the Eucharistic Congress. Many were introduced to the Legion during their stay and brought it back with them to their own dioceses. Among these were Archbishop Glennon (later Cardinal) of Saint Louis, Archbishop Cantwell of Los Angelos, Mar Ivanios of Trivandrum, South India. An interested lay pilgrim to the Congress, Mrs. Gavan Duffy of Melbourne, brought the Legion back with her to Australia and was delighted to find that a Melbourne priest, the Reverend Father Bakker, had just founded the first branch there.

In 1932, Canada took the Legion.

That year also Monsignor (now Bishop) Moynagh brought the Legion to Calabar, Africa.

In France, the seeds of the Legion were sown when Mr. Frank Duff and Monsignor O’Brien of Bootle, Liverpool, visited Paris and, on the centenary of the apparition of Our Lady of the Miraculous Medal, had an interview with the late Cardinal Verdier. They found him very receptive and he promised his full permission for the Legion. When they adverted to the striking coincidence of their visit with the centenary of the apparition, he merely smiled and held out to them his episcopal ring, which had carved on it in raised ivory, a replica of the Miraculous Medal. Today the Legion is in most of the dioceses of France.

THE ENVOYS

It was in 1934 that the first Legion envoy left our shores for New York. As a result of the reading of an article by Alice Curtayne in Commonweal, a San Francisco businessman, Mr. Oliver, a very successful man, and a great Catholic layman, wanted the Legion established in San Francisco and all over the U.S.A. He asked for “a field worker” offering to pay all the expenses of whoever volunteered. Miss Mary Duffy was the first envoy and her successful work led Mr. Oliver to repeat his offer, asking for two more volunteers. Thus, two years later, three envoys were at work in the United States and Canada.

Shortly afterwards, in 1936, Edel Quinn, after spending two years in Newcastle Sanatorium, volunteered to become an envoy. At first, on account of her health, she was put off but then it was felt that South Africa would be an ideal climate for her. She was eventually sent to Kenya-the Switzerland of East Africa. But her heroic soul would not respect human barriers of limitations and soon she was found trekking across the jungles of missionary Africa, in an ancient Ford, with a Mohammedan driver as a companion. Her life story has been told in a “best seller” by Monsignor Leon J. Suenens, Auxiliary Bishop of Malines, and has been published in several languages, including Chinese. During the past two decades, the Central Council, the Concilium, of the Legion has sent out almost thirty envoys to the four corners of the earth. Some of these have devoted three years of their life to this full-time voluntary service while others have spent ten or twelve years in distant lands founding and building up the Legion. In Europe today, there are seven envoys operating in a territory extending from Scandanavia to Greece. In Asia, envoys work in India and Pakistan, in Indonesia, in Japan, and a new envoy, Miss Joan Lynch, will be labouring in Thailand and Southern Vietnam by the time these lines are in print. South America was the last field reached by the envoyship of the Legion, the first envoy arriving there in 1947, in the person of Miss Joaquina Lucas, a native of the Philippines and one of the foundation-members of the Legion in Manila.

Today, there are five envoys of the Legion in Latin America, from Mexico to the Argentine, and everywhere remarkable results are being achieved. In Africa, there are at present, Miss Anne O’Connor, in the Belgian Congo, Miss Eileen Sheehy in French West Africa, and Mr. P. Stenson who works in West Africa and South Africa.

Australia has never received the benefit of a full-time Legion envoy but its growth was not impeded on that account. Now, the land “down under” has itself provided full time extension workers in New Guinea and the Solomon Islands.

FIVE THOUSAND PRAESIDIA

Special mention must be made of the Philippines in view of the remarkable success and growth of the Legion in those islands and because of the fact that they have given to the Legion two envoys, Miss Lucas, in Brazil, and Miss Pacita Santos in Spain. Founded by a Spanish Vincentian Father, The Reverend Manual A. Garcia, C.M. now senatus spiritual director, just a year before Pearl Harbour, the infant organization was quickly cut off from the Legion headquarters and for several years-until the liberation in 1945-no news reached the outside world. At the time of the invasion, there was a curia with twelve praesidia attached. On liberation, it was found that there was a comitium, three senior curiae and a junior, and over one hundred praesidia in the archdiocese of Manila. Today there are over 5,000 praesidia and a host of curiae The late Archbishop O’Dogherty of Manila who has seen the picture in the Philippines changed by the advent of the Legion “from hopeless to hopeful,” stated: “I can now dream dreams and can say to myself ‘this is the only Catholic nation in the Orient, why should it not convert the Orient?’ “

We began with a quotation of a Chinese proverb and now the journey of a thousand items may be said to have brought the Legion into the depths of ancient China. The story of the Legion’s birth and growth in China and of its historic and miraculous resistance to the Communist Goliath has been related by Father Aedan McGrath, who was the chosen instrument of the Holy Father’s representative for the spreading of the Legion throughout the vast regions of missionary China. How well he accomplished that mission, his long imprisonment for his Legion activities testifies, and also the fact that the Legion was declared Public Enemy No. 1 of the Communist regime in China. But long after this generation has passed away and Communism has joined the sinister battalions of bygone tyrannies, which threatened to destroy the Church, the glorious Legion martyrs of China will be remembered and invoked and their names enshrined forever in the annals of the Legion.

Each day brings fresh news of the Legion’s growth and its penetration into new areas. Each year sees new countries added to the long list. The question is sometimes asked “What about the future?” Well, in this atomic age it is hard to forecast the future. But some wise and detached observers have seen in this twentieth century army of the Virgin Most Powerful the working out of a divine Master-Plan. Millions of the little humble people of the world are oppressed and without hope or guidance. In the statue of Our Lady of Grace, used in every Legion of Mary meeting, Our Lady is depicted as pouring out graces, received from the Holy Spirit, on the needy souls of the world, through the instrumentality of her Legionaries-while her heel crushes. the serpent, symbolical of the devil and his co-workers in our world. Is it presumptuous to see in the Legion of Mary a marshalling of the laity, into a vast Marian army, carrying on Mary’s spiritual warfare throughout this modern world and assured of victory in and through her ?

THE FUTURE OF THE LEGION

By Frank Duff

(From Capuchin Annual, 1956–57)

I THINK that now it can be said that the Legion of Mary has arrived. The process has taken over thirty years.

Those who have performed some of our pilgrimages on the Atlantic seaboard, which entail an all-night vigil, have had the experience. sometimes remarkable, of witnessing the sunrise. . After the night come the signs of dawn slowly accomplishing itself. Then in a rush the daylight-and soon the whole firmament is ablaze! After a fashion, so it has been with the Legion. In its first year it gained four branches, and in five years it counted only nine. It took six years to gain a second diocese; seven to gain a second country, eight to gain the first men’s praesidium; and ten for the first branch in the New World. That was the dawning; and even then the sun seemed painfully slow in coming. Indeed, Legionary growing has always been deliberate. almost mathematical. An apparent rapidity has been realized by the operation of the geometric ratio. The Legion has not presented the feature of a mushroom growth.

THREE STAGES OF GROWTH

We may perhaps distinguish three stages. At the end of the first, the Legion had implanted itself in the world in a modest, symbolic way. The blessing of the reigning Pope, Pius XI, belonged to this phase, and represented an astonishing circumstance, considering that the organization was still in the nursery. Also marking the emergence of the Legion from the first period of infancy was the International Eucharistic Congress of 1932, held in Dublin. That Congress might be styled the Epiphany of the Legion, for it provided a sort of manifestation. Looking at it from now, one finds it hard to withhold from it the adjective “supernatural.” The Legion for the purposes of its hostels had got hold of a little city of ruined buildings. These are now in a large part renovated. Then they were not. It was decided to hold a reception for the visiting Legionaries, and the buildings were furnished up. Amazing result! That reception caught the popular imagination as nothing else of the kind did Three thousand people flocked to it, including almost every visiting prelate and dignitary. Epiphany!

The second stage was one of steady growing which set the Legion in most of the countries. It terminated in the events of China, and China marked for the Legion that sunrise which I have referred to. It had entered into a new phase. It was no longer tolerantly regarded as a growing, and possibly promising, Society, perhaps a little too much given to “devotion’’! It had “arrived.” It had withstood the worst that could be given to it. It had produced members whose stature, according to the person best placed to judge, was that of the early Christians. It had helped to save the Church. That new orientation has been summed up by another great Church figure: “ten years ago the name resounding in religious circles was one of menace, that of Stalin. Today it is the name of the Legion; it has brought hope into the air.” Actually that personage went on to say that he hoped that the growth of the Legion was not too fast and at the expense of quality.

So now that the Legion appears to be at the beginning of a new phase of life and possibility, it would be well to take stock of that latter misgiving. Growth at the price of quality would not be gain but loss, for it is not on the size but on the spirit that all depends.

TOO RAPID?

Already I have shown how slowly was the rooting of the Legion accomplished, and how steady the uprise of branches. But has later success brought excessive speed-and mushroom quality? I comment on this. The only area in the world to which we ourselves were inclined to ascribe the idea of mushroom growing was-China! Father Aedan McGrath speaks of a letter which he received from the Concilium deprecating the rate of growth there as something to which it was not accustomed. Father McGrath’s reply was that the rate was dictated by the circumstances and that nothing could be done about it. You will note that this was the very area which has had the opportunity of demonstrating ultra-solidity-and more.

Another comment. What seems to be the fastest growing Legion area is the Philippines. Roughly, a new praesidium is born there every day. Is this too fast? I reply by pointing out that it represents an increase of only ten per cent. per annum. Secondly, Mr. Douglas Hyde has declared that the unspectacular work of the Legion in the Philippines has effected the greatest piece of spiritual building that he knows of. Those two facts would suggest that the Legion in the Philippines is not growing too fast; has not lost quality; is still growing steadily at a mathematical rate; and presumably will continue its “building operations.”

Another statistic. The Legion is today in about one thousand dioceses. Each week that number is increased by a couple. This would represent a ten per cent. annual increase. Again that appearance of steadiness, of the mathematical, of a plan dictated from above!

Looking at the place where the system is at its oldest, and where its growth is the largest, and where one might accordingly expect to find some little diminution of spirit, I note that there the quality it at its highest, not merely by comparison with other areas, but by comparison with itself: that is, quality has ascended or has not lowered as time has gone on. These things represent startling endorsement of the contention of the Legion Handbook that if the system be properly worked, the feature will be manifest of interest increasing with time, and quality with quantity.

DANGEROUS?

Just another doubt to settle. It has been said: “The Legion of Mary is becoming a very powerful affair. God grant it will not repeat history, i.e., the case of another such organization going off the tracks.”

The special feature of the Legion is its spiritual character- which tends to unity. Loyalty and obedience are inculcated and generated. These things point the opposite way to “going off” But there is also a practical consideration. The Legion is not a purely centralized organization. It contains the central principle, but also a strongly developed local one. The members, the works, the administration are local, built into the local ecclesiastical system and controlled by it. The central principle concerns itself with the observance of rule, maintenance of spirit, stimulation of standards, recommendation of works and methods, and similar things.

If a local section went radically and incurably wrong, the central principle would suppress it. If the central principle went radically wrong, the local systems under ecclesiastical impulse, would repudiate it. It is impossible, therefore, to visualize the central principle going off into incorrectness and drawing all sections with it.

Also it has been said: “Why a central principle at all?” or “Why so assertive a central principle? The genius of Catholic Action demands a total local control.”

BALANCE OF CONTROL

There are two points here. Firstly, it is not correct to say that Catholic Action implies a total local control, for that would mean that no standard or international society could be recognized as part of the Catholic Action of a diocese, whereas it has been the insistence of the Holy See that worthy external organizations should be incorporated into the local Catholic Action systems. Secondly, the sundering of that central principle in the case of the Legion would mean the speedy destruction of the Legion in all save name, even though the idea and determination in each local section was to retain the Legion as it is with that exception of the central principle. Why? You have but to sit at the central point and you would see. Above, the central principle has been referred to as “assertive.” It is much less assertive than the local principle. The latter, deprived of its necessary counterpoise, would go clean off balance. It is the peculiarity of each locality to claim that it is unique and that it has to be specially catered for; that its people cannot be got to do this or will only do that; they won’t have this “exaggerated” devotion to Our Lady; and apart from that, it is absurd to say so many prayers at an active-work meeting; weekly meetings are too frequent; people are too busy or otherwise unable to do two hours work each week; and so on indefinitely.

You see! Without a strong central control, that disintegrating tendency would wreck the common rule of the Legion just as the frost-or dynamite-rends the rocks. So I repeat: the Legion would soon survive only as a name. Local bodies bearing the name would continue. Let us hope that they would do good. But the history of such local associations is not encouraging. Surely no one would be found saying of them that theirs was a name of hope in the world today-having exorcized the fatal name of Stalin.

THE MOBILIZING OF THE LEGION

So, having got that much out of our system, let us resume at the point where we branched off: the conclusion of what we might call the mobilising of the Legion, and the opening of its newest phase. After a multitude of preliminary engagements, the battle-line has formed and encircles the globe. We are now able to glimpse what is at stake and to measure the immensity of the conflict.

In each sector we have before us a different foe or problem. There they are in their unending arrays, comprising numbers that make us dizzy. We must not allow the mind alone to measure those hosts, for loss of courage would be the sequel. We have to remind ourselves that the Lord is with us and saith to us: “It is I, be not afraid.”

Let us survey the prospect: (a) Protestantism, in regard to which we seem to hold a special commission, inasmuch as we we are the first large society to grapple with it and make extensive inroads; (b) Orthodoxy, to deal with which we have been equipped with special permissions-only little used so far; (c) Mohammedanism, which we face in so many places but only to the point of the initial skirmishes and scattered conversions; (d) Hinduism and (e) Buddhism, from which we are already making many conversions, and from which are heard cries of distress and demands for “non-aggression pacts;” (f) Materialism and its great sub-problems: lapsing, prostitution, dereliction-on which the Legion has from the first been busily engaged; (g) finally, Communism.

May I single out Communism for particular mention? It presents itself as the special foe of religion, and it is, so to speak, the natural adversary of the Legion. There is a strange parallel in the two histories. The roots of each lay in 1917; the birth of each in 1921. There is a similarity in names, type, methods; even the official colour of the two is the same! For some time there was a preliminary facing up to each other; then suddenly, unexpectedly, there was the fierce clash between them. I have not to tell you that it was in China. It has been a Legionary glory. Who won? Maotse-Tung and his lieutenants would no doubt say they did. They hold the reins of power; they are able to kill, imprison, enslave, and have done so unsparingly. Then why are they afraid of the Legion, as they are in a strange way? It is as if they realize in their hearts that they have not won at all; as if they know their own weak spot and sense the fact that the Legionary sword points straight at it!

THE GREATER FORCE PREVAILS

What could that weak spot, that Achilles heel, be? Communist domination depends on general non-resistance produced by fear. A few control the multitude by sheer determination. But this is a feature which can work both ways. Another few can match the Communist few. Every multitude is inert, a ready prey for any group that can be called a force. Look at the immense liner about to commence its voyage. It does not initiate its movement by its own engines; a little tug takes it in tow. Despite the skurry of the tug, there is no motion for a while; then the ship begins to crawl to open water, where its own power takes over. Every multitude has its little tug, which eventually controls it. If there were more than one tug pulling in different directions, finally it would be the greater force which would tell.

Pitted against Communism, the Legion is the more powerful because of its supernatural character. A first-class Legion against a first class Communism will easily prevail. Even a second-class Legion will prevail against a firstclass Communism, if we presume our inferiority to consist in technique and not in determination and faith. But what we may call a third-rate Legion will not prevail against Communism, because that category must be held to point to lack of faith and earnestness.

But also, the Legion can fail in spite of itself. I mean that an element can be missing which is necessary and which the Legion cannot itself fully supply. That element is mobilization. It is not enough to look benignly at the Legion struggling to recruit and mobilize. It must be helped to assert itself-as Communism is helped where it is in the ascendant. Sometimes a Catholic community stands on the side-lines and watches the Legion carry on its warfare, as if the latter was something apart from itself; and its neutrality can even shade unpleasantly.

At the moment in many places Communism is in that ascendancy, and it menaces the whole world. Where it does not hold power, it looks like seizing it. It imposes its absolute will. It strikes at the ardent few who do not yield, and it fills the remainder with terror so that no one will resist-or at least none but he possessed of the martyr spirit. The Legionary has given some proof that he is in that classification. But there is the Achilles heel of Communism: those who resist. But it must be a resistance unto death, so that the dying hero inspires others who crowd into the breach- and then others in ever-increasing numbers. The struggle of the early Church must be re-enacted. Then Pagan Rome thought itself to be victorious. Like Chinese Communism it could persecute, and it drove Christianity out of sight. But Christianity did not surrender and was destined to convert the empire.

In China, the Legion has held out indomitably. It has succeeded to the extent that Communism has given up killing, because martyrs must not be made. It is a policy to kill a few, because ordinarily that terrifies and produces the acquiescence of the many. But it is not policy to go on making martyrs, for soon enough the whole people possess the martyr-spirit, and then the tyranny will be deposed.

FANTASTIC?

Is it fantastic to put the Legion in that setting, -a supreme hope of the Church, an army in battle-array against the hostile forces of the world? Perhaps it looks fantastic. But remember: thirty years ago it would have been absurd to forecast the growth and the accomplishment which have actually been realized. There has to be a proportion between the past and the future. Unless there is the startling phenomenon of suddenly suspended animation, there has to be more growth, far bigger enterprises, immensely greater achievement. The building which has been done thus far is but a foundation; a Providential preparation for something infinitely greater.

In the unfolding of the Legion -from the beginning, when it took nine months to produce the second branch, to the present day when one is not audacious in measuring up that opposing battle-array which encircles the world-we seem to be witnessing a display of Mary’s motherhood. She is, according to the Popes, the Mother of all men. She reaches out yearningly to them through an agency attuned to her, and she operates her maternal miracles. She works in those united to her, and then through them. The Legion is exhibiting this process. Its membership is not of the select order. It is just common, human material, typical and weak. Yet before our eyes in that material the very characteristics of Mary herself declare themselves, including her strength, her love of souls, her instinct of conquest. So notable is this and the actuality of conquest achieved, that it constitutes an obvious spiritual manifestation. But it is one that is at the disposal of the whole world by virtue of the fact already stressed, namely that the Legionaries are typical, human material. Therefore, the material for its ranks is abundant and lies everywhere. What has been done in one place can be done in all, provided the will to mobilize that force exists.

REACHING OUT TO EVERY SOUL

This is part of an address given by Mr. Frank Duff in New York, during his visit to the U.S.A. on the occasion of his reception of the Annual Marianist Award, 1956 from the University of Dayton, Ohio.

In the Handbook, there are a few phrases which I would venture to commend to your close attention.

One phrase is a quotation from a great writer, and it is something to this effect: “Everyone, if he would survive, must pour himself into another soul.” Another phrase, also a quotation, is: “We will be called upon to give an account of every soul in the whole world.” A statement like that could easily be taken by us as representing a sort of poetic exaggeration. How could we be held accountable for souls that we know nothing about and will never touch? Another phrase is a heading to one of the sections of the Handbook, and perhaps it is the most important of all. It is the little heading: “Seek out and talk to every soul.” Seek out and talk to every soul! Why? Chiefly because Our Lord’s command to the Church is to reach out to every creature and as units of the Church we must play our part in realising His command.

I suggest that no Catholic should be accounted safe unless you have some evidence that real faith reigns in his heart, and you should not take things for granted. You should not assume the existence of an efficient working faith until you have reason to believe that it is there.

But how are you to find out what is in their hearts? This transports me back to my initial quotations. We must get in touch with every person. We must talk to people about themselves. We must induce them to discuss religion, and this applies to those outside the Church as well as to those inside, and of course the plight of those outside is much more grievous than the plight of those inside.

That programme means personal contact, the contact of one soul with another. That is why I stressed that little heading: “Seek out and talk to every soul.” Talking is the main idea, and it is the thing which we dodge most. We will do everything except go and talk to people about religion. I honestly believe that mass contact-contact with people in bulk- is only useful if the primary contact, the personal contact, is there as well. In relation to that personal contact, the mass contact (such as realized through the press, the radio, etc.), is secondary.

THE SPIRIT OF FAITH AND UNION WITH MARY

Suppose we set ourselves to such a project; that we resolve to go out to reach people and to try to give them a little of our own conviction, there are certain requirements which we must fulfil if we want to be used by God with effectiveness. Obviously we must have FAITH. That is the basic Christian requirement. Faith itself must not be a vague thing. It is easy to say: I believe in God and the catholic Church, while hardly knowing what the Catholic Church stands for. We must have a modest understanding of Christian Doctrine, and we must, as part of that, have Our Lady. When I say “have her” I mean “properly understand her.” We must understand her not merely in her role of obtaining favours, because that is the least part of her function. We must understand her as Mother of Divine Grace, as Mother of our Souls, as Mediatrix of all Graces. In other words, Catholics who want to accomplish anything should understand Our Lady in the manner that all of you do. Your action is spurred by that idea of Our Lady and rendered confident and strong by it, not merely in the psychological sense but in the fact that fullness of appreciation of her has opened you fully to her maternal influence. She is able to establish a union with you, and that union is a comprehensive union. It is not merely that she bestows graces upon you, but that she acts through you. In other words, she is your Mother and she pours life into you-the life which is her Son. Then she does not merely fill you, but she reaches out through you. Through those who offer themselves to her she exercises her maternal function towards all men.

That is important when we begin to think in terms of that programme which contemplates the whole world, which aspires to get in touch with every member of the human race and to pour the great treasure of faith into that person’s heart. You won’t do it-you can’t even attempt to do it-you won’t even think of it-unless you are in union with Our Lady.

In the second place that Faith of yours must contain the notion of the Mystical Body. The Mystical Body is rudimentary in every sense of the word. It was taught to the primitive Christians as basic. Read the Epistles of St. Paul, and you see the extent to which that doctrine was fundamental. The analogous image used by Our Lord Himself was that of the Mystical Vine, which was the same idea again; the branches and the trunk, the members and the head-all one, living it is true out of the virtue of the trunk in one case, the head in the other case, but truly united to the source of life, and meant to be the carriers of that life.

CHRIST ACTS THROUGH HIS BODY

In plain language the Church may be said to be Christ and to carry on the life of Christ. He is in the Church as life inhabits the body, not as people live in a house. The members of the Church are His members, really part of Him, His means of expression, His instruments.

The Mystical Body began when the Second Divine Person came among us. To live our life He took flesh in the Virgin’s womb and was born as a baby; and the body that He took on was God’s instrument. The Second Divine Person carried out His mission through it, and although that Person Jesus Christ, was God, He conformed to the limitations of that body.

He ate and He slept. He conveyed His thoughts by speaking, and if He was addressing a crowd of people He would have to raise His voice. As a Babe He was carried and He was put to bed. His life was saved by His Beloved Mother and St. Joseph. In His babyhood, He did not talk because it would not be natural for a baby to talk. He was hungry and He was tired. He was grieved and He wept. He went to people; He consoled them; He taught them; He touched them and He healed them. And such was his humanity that in the end people were able to kill and bury Him.

His Life on earth was not something existing for that time alone. It was intended to be followed by a new and bigger life, a more influential life, in a new body. He saved men and added them on to His own body like additional cells on a growing body. A newborn child weighs about seven or eight pounds, but it grows up into an adult of about twenty times or more that weight. In some similar way Our Lord added to His original body all these new cells, the baptized, ourselves. And that new body, which is the Mystical Body, lives like the original one, almost as if Our Lord had continued growing after His death. As a very distinguished Nuncio recently declared to us, we are His mouth, His eyes, His ears, His hands, His feet; and He has no other. We are His means of action. If we give ourselves to Him, He can carry on His mission in our days. That new career of His is more important than His original life on earth (that is, if one could say that anything in the Life of Our Lord is more important than anything else in it!), inasmuch as it was the last for which the first was made. That first living of His on earth was intended for the second living. That first existence of His was confined to His own country. The frontiers of Judea bounded it and we do not hear of His speaking any other language but His native Aramaic. Then came the Resurrection and Pentecost, and the frontiers of Judea were obliterated. Christ in His Mystical Body put His feet upon the pathways of the earth and went out to carry on what He had been doing before, this time speaking in all tongues, going to all people, but carrying on His mission much as he did in His earthly career.

CHRIST ACTS THROUGH US

If the Mystical Body lends itself to Him to a reasonable extent (and it can withhold that co-operation just as it can give it), Our Lord is enabled to do the same things that He did of old. He can go about seeking people, helping them in every way and above all teaching them the rules of eternal life. Through us He can act in the fullness of His power. There is no limit in regard to what may happen.

Especially must that Mystical Body, which is the carrier of Christ and His means of expressing Himself, go to those who are outside the Church with the aim of adding them on to it. That approach is, unfortunately not being made. It is an awful idea that we can prevent the Lord from doing all those things that He wants to do to mankind. It is just as if His actual body was sick or injured; He would have been held back. By reason of the general inactivity of Catholics, the position has come that the vast majority of the world’s population is not even being approached. Absolutely no approach is being made to Mohammedanism, although in Africa it is growing twice as fast as the Church. The Jews are not being approached. You may say that Protestantism, which nominally possesses three hundred millions, is not being approached. The Buddhists, the Hindus, are hardly being approached and the ordinary pagans are only being approached in a very partial fashion. Whole great populations, the former Catholic nations that have fallen away into unbelief, are not being approached. Legionaries setting about their visitation in those great irreligious areas, report that they have not discovered a home which within the memory of man had been visited on a religious errand. That means that Our Lord is practically debarred from those places by that law of His which we have been considering. I suppose that if we were driven to arithmetic, we would have to say that fifteen hundred million people in the world today are not being approached by Catholics.

CHRIST NEEDS OUR ACTION

To the extent of our poor power, we must try to reverse this position. We must realize our responsibility in the light of the doctrine of the Mystical Body which means that the Lord depends on us. We must be active. We must lend ourselves to the Lord and His Mother in faith and in conscious practice of that doctrine. We must act with the deliberate intention of giving Him to people. We must open our mouths and talk in the belief that He will in His own fashion utilize those poor words of ours as the bearers of His message of salvation. We must help preach the Gospel to every creature, reaching out to every soul.

LEGION TERMS

THE CONCILIUM is the central governing body of the Legion. it meets at Dublin, Ireland, at 3 P.M. on the third

Sunday of each month.

THE SENATUS is the governing body of the Legion for a country or a region.

THE CURIA is the governing body of a district. Where there are several Curiae in a diocese and where one of them is given superintending powers over the others, that one is called a COMITIUM.

THE PRAESIDIUM is the basic unit of organization of the Legion. Its membership might go as high as thirty; but the average would be considerably lower. Each Praesidium has a Spiritual Director, a President, Vice-President, Secretary and Treasurer. The Praesidium meets weekly, its procedure being: Prayer to the Holy Ghost and the Rosary; spiritual reading; minutes of previous meeting; report of each member on his work; Catena; Allocutio; treasurer’s statement; assignment of work and other business; final prayers, followed by the priest’s blessing.

CATENA designates the prayers which are said at the midway point of every Legion meeting, and which form as well a daily duty of each Legionary, active or auxiliary.

THE ALLOCUTIO is the five-minute talk given after the Catena by the Spiritual Director, or in his absence by the President.

TESSERA is the prayer-card of the Legion, the first page of which contains the distinctive Legion picture.

VEXILLUM is the Legion standard which forms part of the little Legion altar at meetings. About one foot high, it is made of metal set in an onyx base.

ACIES is the main annual function of the Legion, held near to the Feast of the Annunciation. The central part of the ceremonial is the procession to a large model of the Vexillum and the repetition there by each Legionary of a formula of consecration to Our Lady.

PRAETORIAN is the member who assumes certain additional devotional duties, namely: daily Mass and Holy Communion, and the daily recitation of all the Legion prayers and some form of Office approved by the Church.

THE AUXILIARY is one who is unable or unwilling to assume the duties of active membership but who engages to recite daily for the intentions of Our Blessed Lady all the prayers of the Tessera.

ADJUTORIAN is the special name given to priests and religious who become Legion Auxiliaries.

THE TERM”CATHOLIC ACTION”

Extract from discourse by His Holiness Pope Pius XII to the World Congress of the Lay Apostolate, October 5,

1957.

“It seems necessary here to trace, at least in its broad lines, a suggestion which has been communicated to us very recently. It was pointed out that there prevails at the present time a regrettable uneasiness, rather widely spread, which would find its origin in the use of the term “Catholic Action.”

“This expression, in fact, is taken by some to be reserved to certain types of organized lay apostolate to which it gives, in the opinion of the public, a sort of monopoly: all the organizations that do not enter into the framework of

Catholic Action thus conceived, it is said, seem to have a less authentic character a secondary importance, to be supported in a lesser degree by the Hierarchy and apparently remain on the fringe of the essential apostolic effort of the laity. It would then appear that a particular form of lay apostolate, namely, Catholic Action, triumphs to the detriment of others and that we are witnessing the seizure of the whole by part. Moreover it would seem that the stage would be practically reached when apostolic movements not bearing the label of “Catholic Action” would be condemned and barred from the diocese.

“In order to solve this difficulty two practical reforms are being considered: one a reform of terminology, and the other, its corollary, a reform of structure. First of all it would be necessary to restore to the term “Catholic Action” its generic sense and to apply it only to the whole or organized movements of the lay apostolate recognized as such, nationally or internationally, either by the bishops on the national plane or by the Holy See for movements aiming at having an international status. It would then be sufficient that each movement would be designated by its name and be characterized by its specific form, and not according to the common term. “The structural reform would follow the reform of terminology. All groups would belong to Catholic Action and would preserve their own name and their own autonomy, but they would form together, as Catholic Action, a federal unit. Every Bishop would remain free to accept or reject a movement to entrust it or not entrust it with a mandate, but it would not rest with him to refuse is as not belonging to Catholic Action by its own nature.”

THE LEGION IN AUSTRALIA IN 1957

(Statistics and Addresses)

STATE OF VICTORIA AND DIOCESE OF WAGGA. 156 Senior Praesidia, 30 Junior Praesidia.

NEW SOUTH WALES.

160 Senior Praesidia, 72 Junior Praesidia.

QUEENSLAND

70 Senior Praesidia and 53 Junior Praesidia.

SOUTH AUSTRALIA

40 Senior Praesidia and 28 Junior Praesidia.

WESTERN AUSTRALIA

56 Senior Praesidia and 25 Junior Praesidia. TASMANIA

11 Senior Praesidia and 3 Junior Praesidia.

NEW GUINEA AND THE SOLOMONS. 180 Senior Praesidia.

NEW CALEDONIA

9 Senior Praesidia and 3 Junior Praesidia.

GILBERT ISLANDS

20 Senior Praesidia.

P.S. Senior Praesidia are those whose members are over 18 years of age; junior praesidia are those whose members are under 18 years.

PRAYER THAT THE EXAMPLE OF EDEL QUINN MAY BECOME KNOWN THROUGHOUT THE CHURCH

Jesus, Model and Source of all holiness, who didst infuse into the soul of Thy servant, Edel Quinn, the spirit of mortification and love of Thy Cross, forgetfulness of self and total abandonment into Thy adorable hands, and didst inflame her heart with a burning zeal for the salvation of souls; grant, if it be Thy will; that the example of her virtues may become known throughout Thy Church for the instruction of all who acknowledge Thee as their true Master and only Saviour and for the encouragement of all those who, in the Legion of Mary, serve the apostolate under the glorious standard of Mary Immaculate.

Imprimatur

@ D. Mannix

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis

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The Life of Grace

BY REV. ALBERT POWER, S. J

INDEX

1. -RECOLLECTION

WILLIAM GLADSTONE, the famous English Statesman, when retiring to rest at night, after delivering one of his great speeches in the House of Commons, or after a lively and acrimonious debate, made it a practice resolutely to put all thoughts of his performance out of his mind and by some religious reflections to calm his soul and prepare for his night’s rest.

St. Ignatius Loyola lays it down as one of the important points of preparation for one’s morning prayer that, shortly before bedtime one read over or listen to a passage from the Gospel, or other subject for meditation, and then try to shut out worldly or distracting thoughts during the night and when rising in the morning, so that when the hour for meditation or contemplation comes, the mind is under control. But this is not to be conceived as a violent process, a straining after concentration. Such efforts would be fatal to success. It is simply the application of the obvious and familiar fact, that the mind tends to ponder on what it has read or heard. Hence the idea of bedtime stories for children.

Now to supply thoughts and truths that would act as a corrective or antidote to the worrying anxieties that fill the lives of most people was one of the principal tasks that Jesus Christ set Himself when He came on earth. He invites us thus to make use of these remedies: “Come to Me all you that labour and are burdened and I will refresh you.” (Matt. 11, 28). The Greek word translated “labour” means here to be “tired out” as a result of toil. It is used in John Chap. 4 to tell us that Jesus reached Jacob’s Well “worn out” after the long tramp from Jerusalem. Hence His invitation means “Come to me all you who are wearied out with the troubles of life, and pressed down under the burdens of existence and I will relieve you.” The whole Gospel story tells how Jesus fulfilled that promise. He lifted from our shoulders the crushing burden of sin and brought to mankind a new and wonderful spiritual life, by living which the poorest and most down-trodden of mankind found a peace and interior joy such as the wisest philosophers of Greece or Rome had never dreamt of. The inexhaustible spiritual riches of Jesus Christ are placed at the disposal of all.

But the conditions are that men come to Jesus by faith and submit to His yoke, instead of the heavy and galling yoke of sin and selfishness and worldliness under which most men are groaning. His words are (Matt. 11, 29) “Take up my yoke upon you and learn of Me: for I am meek and humble of heart; and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden light.”

Jesus invites us to submit to His yoke -the yoke of obedience to His teaching. But He promises that we shall find Him a mild and gentle Teacher, and that His yoke so far from being galling and burdensome will give rest and happiness to the soul. And the reason is (as He explains elsewhere) that He Himself will help us to carry this yoke. This sharing of our burden by Jesus (who walks side by side with us along the road of life) this special divine assistance given to us to lead lives of peace and happiness in accordance with His law is what we call divine Grace. And the life that is led when thus assisted is called by us a supernatural life, and will be the subject of explanations in the pages that follow. Meantime, let us freshen our resolution to keep in touch with Our Lord and His holy Mother by frequent short aspirations, not only when going to bed and rising-but all through the day. Such acts are very effective in keeping our souls free from worldliness and united to Jesus.

2.-ACT OF CONTRITION

Catholics are taught to make frequently acts of perfect contrition or sorrow for sin, and especially before retiring to rest at night, to ensure that if death comes suddenly (as it does to so many) they may be ready for the summons. For through an act of perfect contrition, all grave or mortal sin is remitted. This Catholic doctrine that an act of perfect contrition is incompatible with a state of deadly sin, is one of supreme importance. Let us examine it a little. To some perhaps the word “perfect” may cause a difficulty. They feel inclined to say: “How can I work myself up to produce a perfect act of this kind.But remember the word “perfect” refers to the motive (viz., love of God) not to the intensity or intrinsic nature of the act in itself. The motive must be “love of God,” not merely fear of hell, or a sense of shame or disgust for sin, or a mere desire to feel at ease, or any other motive that is concerned chiefly with oneself. The motive is that I see that God-on account of His supreme excellence-is infinitely worthy of being loved by me; that He has a supreme right to my homage and service, and obedience; and that by mortal sin I deliberately refuse that service and prefer some selfish earthly gratification to the fulfilment of my duty towards Him. Hence I deeply regret having sinned and make a firm resolve never again deliberately to violate God’s law in a serious matter. When St. Augustine of Hippo woke up to the full realization of the life of sin and rebellion against God he had been leading, and was overwhelmed with shame and sorrow at the sight of his own disloyalty to the King of infinite beauty, his was a very intense act of perfect sorrow for sin.

But we must bear in mind that even a less intense act of contrition -provided it proceeds from the motive of love of God, is also powerful enough to wash all mortal sin from the soul. Hence we must not be discouraged from making such acts by the fact that we do not feel the intensity or fervour of the saints, but on the contrary are interiorly hard and dry and desolate. It is the will that counts with God, not emotional feelings. The same St. Augustine has uttered this consoling sentence: “If you wantto love God, you already love Him.” The mere desire and effort to elicit an act of love of God-even in a hard, dry, manner, is already such an act; namely, the deliberate choice of the will (aided by grace) to prefer God and His Excellence before everything else whatsoever. Hence the advice of St. Teresa of Avila that we should form the habit of saying frequently during the day, “My God I love Thee.” Very often, she says, it will be an act of perfect love.

Remember that sorrow for sin even from a less perfect motive than love of God is sufficient preparation for the Sacrament of Confession. Such sorrow from supernatural but less perfect motives (suóh as fear of hell or purgatory, desire for our own happiness in heaven, etc.) is often called attrition. When preparing to go to confession it is good to spend a little time pondering on such motives. For many people they are more tangible and make a more immediate appeal, “The fear of God is the beginning of wisdom” (Proverbs 1, 7). After that we should try to excite sorrow from the perfect motive of love of God. The better our dispositions are in receiving the sacrament, the greater the effect it produces, just as the amount of water one carries away from the well depends on the size of the jug or bucket one brings to fetch it in. Sorrow for sin-or “compunction” as the Imitation of Christ calls it-should be an abiding element in our spiritual life.

3.-SUPERNATURAL ACTS

Through divine revelation we know that mans’ ultimate destiny is something so entirely beyond his nature and his natural faculties, that he could never even have dreamt of its possibility without such revelation. That destiny is to gaze upon God face to face after death. This means that in some inconceivably wonderful way God will elevate and strengthen men’s souls to enable them intuitively to apprehend and contemplate the infinitely perfect essence of God-i.e., the ultimate secret of existence! In this world we can know God as Author and Creator of the universe, just as we know Shakespeare and Michelangelo from their works. But we have no direct and immediate perception of God, nor any proper concept of Him; any more than a man born blind has of the radiant glory of. a summer’s day. If such a man were suddenly cured and woke up to the ecstasy of sight, we might have a dim suggestion of what this Beatific Vision of God will mean to us.

Our final destiny is to see God, and our life on earth is intended to be a time of active and incessant preparation for this tremendous experience. And the degree of intensity of enjoyment of this Vision and contemplation of infinite Beauty will depend on the use we make of our period of preparation here on earth. In other words, it is God’s plan that already here below we lead a life directly related to and leading up to the Vision of God in heaven, and that we spend our time in performing what are called supernatural acts. The word “supernatural” (in a religious and theological sense) is almost exclusively Catholic-just as nowadays Catholics almost alone, recognize the reality behind the word. “Supernatural” means of course “above nature.”

A supernatural act means one which we perform through a very special and immediate assistance of God, who works with us as a master artist with his pupil, inspiring, directing, even physically guiding him. The music or the picture produced is the pupil’s work, but is rendered possible for him because he is raised up to a new power of artistic vision and production by the master’s controlling influence. So my acts of Faith, Hope, and Charity, are really the acts of my own mind and will, but are at the same time the result of the divine co-operation which imparts to them a divine beauty and excellence and worth altogether above our natural powers of production.

To live a life in which every action is intensely supernatural is the aim of the saints, and should be the aim of every Catholic. It is such acts that make life worth living. It was in order to secure lives filled with such acts that God created the human race, that God became man, that the Church was founded.

You may ask; Is this kind of elevated religious life open to all without exception? Can every man, woman and child in the world aim at leading a supernatural life, in which every thought and action is inspired and produced by the Holy Ghost, so that we are forever walking, as it were, hand in hand with God Who directs all our wishes and aspirations to the one important end of fulfilling His Will and increasing our own capacity for enjoying His Friendship?

The answer is, all without exception are not only eligible for this life, providing they fulfil certain conditions, but are actually destined for, and called upon to live a supernatural life on earth as the necessary preparation for obtaining their ultimate happiness of seeing God in heaven. That is the great secret revealed to us by Jesus Christ when He came into the world, and is a truth repeatedly and lovingly dwelt upon by St. Paul and other inspired writers.

What the conditions are we shall consider next.

4. -MERITORIOUS ACTS

In order to live a supernatural life one in which all our activities are performed under God’s special supervision and assistance, the first condition is to accept Jesus Christ and His Teaching by Faith. Through an act of Faith we come in contact with and are linked on to that great network of grace that is operating energetically in intelligent beings all through the visible and invisible universe.

But just now I want to deal with and explain those special supernatural acts which Catholics call “meritorious”: that is, acts by which we are not only being prepared for the Beatific Vision of God, but by which we acquire a positive right to share in that eternal reward. This “right” is called “merit.” Sometimes outsiders think that we Catholics lay too much stress on this idea of the reward in heaven for our good deeds-as if our services were given in a mercenary spirit, and we were always thinking of the payment when the work is over.

In the first place we might remind such objectors that this way of speaking comes to us from Jesus Christ Himself, who in His parables compares men serving God to workmen to whom the Master will pay their hire: as e.g., in the parable of the vineyard, of the talents, of Lazarus and Dives. And secondly the reward of which there is question, and which wemerit by our fidelity in God’s service is not a temporary payment like money wages, but the reward which alone love looks for, viz., closer friendship, deeper intimacy, with the Beloved. Who has ever dreamt of calling a child selfish or mercenary because in her efforts to do her duty she looks for the approval of the father or mother she loves as her chief reward? Who has ever criticized as self-seeking Shakespeare’s Portia when she dwells so tenderly on the supreme reward she will have in Bassanio’s love and devotion. In her speech to Bassanio after he has chosen the casket that will make her his wife she wishes that “Only to stand high in your account, I might in virtues, beauties, living, friends, exceed account.”

So in this great love-story that we call Christianity, the bride-soul works strenuously and perseveringly for one reward alone: viz., to stand high in God’s account, to be closely and intimately associated with Him when He brings her home to heaven. Such ambition to please the Beloved, to win His full affection and friendship is the theme of every love story in the world, from Ruth the Moabitess to Francis Thompson’s “Hound of Heaven,” in which he so daringly and so magnificently describes God’s courtship of the human soul. We venture to use such language, because the Bible uses it. In both Old and New Testament the love between the soul and God is set forth repeatedly under the .imagery of the human bride and bridegroom.

Now let us ask, presupposing the act of Faith by which we accept Jesus Christ and His teaching, what other conditions are required on our part to ensure that our acts are meritorious of eternal life,-are such as will earn for us a higher place in God’s Friendship, a more perfect union with Him in Heaven?

The following three conditions are enumerated: 1st, our actions (i.e., thoughts, desires, words and outward acts) must be morally good-not sinful; 2nd, we must be living in the state of grace; 3rd, we should act from a supernatural motive-that is, one that we know through revelation, not merely for some purely natural reason- such as the wish to acquire knowledge; to improve our health; to please a friend, etc.

5.-CONDITIONS FOR MERITING

First: Our actions must be morally good. We can merit only by acts that are morally upright-that is, not venially sinful (such as telling lies, speaking somewhat uncharitably, etc.). For it is obvious that we cannot grow in God’s favour by offending Him and violating His law (even though in a small matter). But any act (thought or word) that is morally good,-such as the ordinary occupations of daily life,-our business or professional work, conversation, meals, recreation and so forth may be supernatural and meritorious, as well, of course, as acts that are directly religious- such as prayer, receiving the sacraments, spiritual reading.

Secondly, we must be in the state of grace. The full significance of this expression will be explained later. Here it is sufficient to say that it means being free from the guilt of mortal or grevious sin. Here, too, it seems obvious that this condition is required for gaining merit: since a man in mortal sin and so at enmity with God and destined, if he dies in that state, to be exiled from Him forever, cannot at the same time be worthy of seeing God in heaven, any more than a man can be genuinely your friend who nourishes in his heart hostility and bitterness against you.

The third condition is that we act from a supernatural, not merely a purely natural motive, such as desire of knowledge, to improve our health, or to please a friend.

But the question arises: are we obliged to think of some supernatural motive (e.g., desire to glorify God or to save souls) for each action, or is a general intention directing our whole life towards God and our salvation sufficient?

Take this example: A good Catholic living in a state of grace, goes for a walk in the country. He feels in need of exercise to keep fit for work. He does not pray about it or think of God, or any supernatural motive-but just enjoys his walk, the scenery, fresh air, etc., to the full. Are these actions supernatural and meritorious?

St. Thomas Aquinas says they are. His reason is that by living in the state of grace or charity a man has directed his whole life to God, and consequently in everything he does (unless it is spoiled by a sinful motive) he is implicitly tending to God as his last end. Others think that if acts not directly religious are to be super-naturalized, they should proceed from some explicit supernatural motive.

In practice it is advisable to follow this latter view, both to make doubly sure that our acts are meritorious and also because the frequent renewal of our intention to seek God in all that we do, helps to increase and intensify sanctifying grace in the soul.

Perhaps the simplest and most widespread Catholic practice by which one deliberately chooses supernatural motives as the directive influence of all our actions; is what is called the “Morning Offering” of the Apostleship of Prayer.

6.-MORNING OFFERING

In their daily lives men and women are influenced by motives that give a direction to everything they do. One wants to make a lot of money-and all his business activities tend to that end. A lawyer or doctor may be spurred on by the desire of fame (of which the great poet spoke so tenderly as: “That last infirmity of noble mind”). A university student is full of anxiety to pass his examination. All the activities of these people-even when not consciously thinking of it will be influenced by the motive in their heart. So if I rouse in myself each morning the desire to please Our Lord and help Him to save souls, my actions during the day will be coloured and directed Godwards by that motive, even when I do not directly think about it.

The “Morning Offering” h elps to secure that every action proceeds from a supernatural motive. But it also gives them a missionary or apostolic value, making them powerful to draw down graces for the conversion of sinners. Every missionary preacher from St. Paul to our own days, has insisted that to bring about conversions, prayer and suffering are essential. Jesus Christ atoned for the sins of mankind by His sufferings and death upon the Cross, and allows us to share in this divine apostolate of suffering. He also taught us to prayincessantly for the conversion of men’s hearts to God’s perfect service. Hence the first petitions He places on our lips in the “Our Father” are: “May Thy Name be blessed, Thy Kingdom be more widely established; Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven.” And again He said: “The harvest (the harvest of souls to be reaped for God) is great but the labourers are few. Pray ye therefore the Lord of the harvest that he sent labourers into His harvest.”

Hence in the morning we offer all the prayers and sufferings of the day to help to save souls and spread Christ’s kingdom.

But what about the ordinary non-religious activities that fill our lives -work, recreation, meals, hours of rest? Can these also be turned to account? The answer is Yes. We have seen that every morally good action can be made meritorious of eternal life; but it may also have (these are big words but I will explain) an impetratory and also a satisfactory value which we can direct to helping those in spiritual need. “Impetration” means obtaining something by asking for it-that is by prayer or petition. But there is such a thing as “silent asking” without formal words. A child that has been naughty and grieved its parents, may silently ask pardon by making extra efforts to please them-by its greater obedience or attention. So in the spiritual order. An old saying is “Laborare estorare.” All work done for God is prayer, since by our diligence in His service we show our desire to please Him and obtain His graces and favours.

“Satisfaction” means making atonement, through suffering or in some other way, for offences committed by ourselves or others.

You may have come across a case like this. In a family one child causes much trouble and pain to its parents by waywardness, disrespect, and disobedience. One of the other children grieved by this conduct tries to make up to its parents for the misbehaviour of the sister or brother by showing greater affection, respect, and obedience. So in God’s service not only our sufferings but our ordinary actions performed in a spirit of love have the power of making satisfaction for the sins of others who are negligent in God’s service. Hence we say “Sacred Heart of Jesus I offer Thee all the prayers, works (i.e., activities of every kind) and sufferings of this day for the salvation of souls-the promotion of Thy interests.” I pray that each action may win graces and spiritual helps to promote the salvation and sanctification of the souls that You love. This offering should be made slowly and fervently and may usefully be renewed sometimes during the day. Thus every moment of the day and night will be consecrated to His Service.

7.-SANCTIFYING GRACE

We have spoken of the special divine assistance by which each of our good acts becomes meritorious, and prepares us for the sharing of the Beatific Vision in heaven. The question may be asked: Does God’s grace consist merely in this divine co-operation with our acts of intellect and will; or does it affect the soul itself in any permanent way rendering it habitually disposed to living a supernatural life?

The Catholic Church teaches that God confers on those who turn to Him sincerely, a permanent abiding gift of grace, which affects the very substance of the soul itself, and lifts it up to share in some wonderful way the divine life of God Himself.

This doctrine is clearly taught in the New Testament. In John Chap. 3, Our Lord speaks of this life of grace as a new birth.He said to Nicodemus: “No man can enter into the kingdom of God unless he is born anew.” And, in the prologue to his Gospel St. John tells us that to those that received Jesus He gave the power of becoming Sons of God-born again not in the natural way, but of God Himself. Monsignor Knox renders the passage thus: “All those that did welcome Him, Jesus empowered to become the children of God. This birth came not from human stock, not from nature’s will or man’s, but from God.” As birth from our parents in the natural order gives us our human nature, so this new birth or”regeneration” implies the communicating of a new and higher nature. Hence St. Peter says that through it “we become sharers in the divine Nature.” And St. Paul writes: “when a man is in Jesus Christ there has been anew creation.”

Again (Ephes. 2, 16), “God has created us in Chr ist Jesus, pledged to such good actions as He has prepared beforehand to be the employment of our lives.” (Knox).

Such expressions cannot be understood merely of transient helps given to our acts, but imply a permanent supernatural principle communicated to the regenerated soul.

Let us consider some of the effects of this mysterious gift of Sanctifying Grace.

In the first place it renders the soul beautiful beyond all imagining in the eyes of God, and gives it a right to abide in His Presence forever.

What that supernatural beauty of a soul in the state of grace is, we can only dimly guess from expressions or comparisons used in Scripture. One such comparison (very dear to St. John the Evangelist) is that of Light.

All the exquisite beauty of nature that so enthralls the artist or the poet, is the effect of light. When night envelops the world all beauty vanishes. A precious stone, a diamond or ruby, if held in the hand in a dark room, has no sparkle or brilliancy. But hold it up in the streaming sunshine, and mark the change! How it dances and glitters as the sunlight penetrates it and shows its dazzling loveliness

Sanctifying Grace is the sunshine that floods the soul and fills it with such surpassing beauty that God Himself is enamoured of it.

Another Scriptural expression and comparison used frequently by Our Lord Himself, is that of Life-the mysterious force that is so constantly and irresistibly working all around us, lifting up the dull dead chemicals of earth and transforming them into the radiant petals of a rose, the exquisite colouring of a butterfly’s wing, or the graceful curves and velvet coat of a champion racehorse. Can one imagine a greater transformation?

What physical life is to the body, that Sanctifying Grace is to the soul itself.”I am come (says Our Lord) that they may have life, and have it more abundantly.” “The water that I will give shall become in him a fountain springing up intolife everlasting.” “He that eateth My Flesh, and drinketh My Blood hath everlasting life and I will raise him up in the last day.”

To safeguard this divine treasure should be our chief concern during our time on earth.

8.-JUSTIFICATION

St. Teresa and others favoured with heavenly visions have spoken in vivid terms of the extraordinary beauty of a soul in the state of grace. And it is a comforting thought that it is through this amazing transformation that the guilt of mortal sin is washed away from the soul. In His parable, Our Lord tells us that when the prodigal son returned grieving for his sinful conduct, his father at once ordered the filthy ragged boy to be clothed in the best robe the home could produce-with shoes for his naked bleeding feet, and a ring for his finger. These and the other honours showered on him-the special banquet with music and dancing-all symbolize God’s attitude towards the repentant sinner.

The Council of Trent has defined that this process of justification (i .e., restoring the sinner to God’s friendship) does not merely cover over and hide away the stains and scars of sin, but washes them clean away from the soul. Sanctifying Grace penetrates into the very essence of the soul, and fills it with a cleanness and brightness and splendour destructive of all grave guilt. And to make it easy for everyone to live this supernatural life, and be ever clothed with the wedding garment of sanctifying grace, is the purpose for which the Church exists, and has the sacrifice of the Mass, and the sacraments, entrusted to her care. All the activities of her missionaries all over the world are directed to this one object-the securing for each of her children the possession of Sanctifying Grace. In the estimation of the Church, as in that of Jesus Christ, nothing really matters except the securing for ourselves of this pearl of great price. “What does it profit a man” (says Our Lord) “to gain the whole world if he suffer the loss of his own soul?”

But we must not think of Sanctifying Grace as something fixed and unchanging. It is a new life, a new spiritual health, which we can go on perfecting and intensifying, just as we can improve our bodily health by proper exercise, food, and so on. The degree of development or intensity of sanctifying grace in the soul is the measure of the perfection with which we shall enjoy the Vision of God in heaven, and the measure of progress in holiness.

All the supernatural activity hitherto described, as made possible by actual grace, is to have as its result the intensifying of sanctifying grace. Hence Catholics speak of growing in merit, and performing meritorious acts, since sanctifying grace gives us a positive right to the reward of the Beatific Vision in heaven. Not that this thought of reward should be our chief or habitual motive in leading a supernatural life. That motive should be, above all, the love of God for His own sake-the will to seek and serve Him because of His own infinite excellence. It was in order to bring that motive home to us with almost irresistible force that God became Man. The life, teaching, passion and death and resurrection of Jesus Christ constitute the amazing appeal which God has made to a sinful, selfish, idolatrous world to recognize His claims to our love, because of His love for us. “For God so loved the world as to give His only Begotten Son that whosoever believeth in Him may not perish but may have life everlasting.” And he founded His Church and gave her the Eucharist in order to keep ever fresh in men’s minds the story of this great divine achievement of the Incarnation.

9.-INFUSED VIRTUES

Our human nature it is that makes us what we are. But human nature acts through various faculties (as we call them) bodily and spiritual, with which we are endowed: such as the faculty of sight, hearing, memory, imagination, understanding, free-will.

So when man is given a new supernatural nature by Sanctifying Grace, it is to be expected that he will also be provided with new supernatural faculties through which this new nature will carry on its operations. These faculties are called in Catholic theology, infused virtues or habits.

And it is by the exercise of these virtues or powers that we live that supernatural life -for which God has placed us in this world; just as it is by using our natural faculties: the bodily senses, the power of imagination, of thinking and of choosing, that we live our natural life. And just as we develop our natural powers by using them (as the Latin proverb has it- “fit faber fabricando”) so our supernatural faculties also, are strengthened by use.

Hence we find in the saints such intense faith, trust, love of God, prudence, etc.—which are the result of their diligent use of these infused virtues. Let us see briefly what these virtues are.

First come the three theological virtues, faith, hope, and charity: called theological, because they have God Himself as their direct object, whereas the moral virtues have, as their object the means for reaching God.

We can think of God either as the Supreme Truth, and so the object of our intellect: or as the Supreme Good, and as such the object of our will. By Faith we cling to God intellectually as the Supreme Truth revealing Himself to us. With our will we seek Him as the Supreme Good in two ways: either as our own Supreme Good who alone can make us perfectly happy-and this is the virtue of hope; or we seek Him and love Him on account of His own infinite excellence-and this is the virtue of Charity. In each case we tend to God Himself as the formal object of our faith, or hope, or love.

The other so-called moral virtues may be grouped under four headings-which are called the cardinal virtues- Prudence, Temperance, Fortitude and Justice. The formal object of all these virtues is moral good.

Obviously the first thing is to have a right notion or judgment about what is morally good (or upright conduct), and this we do through the virtue of prudence: which, like faith, is an intellectual act, and the foundation of all other virtues.

Secondly, a man must have the power of using created things so as to avoid all excess or abuse; and this is the virtue of temperance-or self-control.

Thirdly, he must be strong to overcome difficulties that tend to turn him away from the path of duty; and this is fortitude.

Lastly, he must follow right reason in his dealings with his fellowmen, respecting their rights and giving to everyone his due-which is the virtue of Justice.

Hence Temperance enables a man to resist too great attraction for created things (e.g., the attraction of food or drink).

Fortitude to overcome difficulties that might deter him from using them when he should (as fear of public opinion or of failure). And Justice makes him respect the rights of other persons in their use of created things.

Everyone in the state of grace has these supernatural habits in his soul and calls them into play whenever he elicits a virtuous act, e.g., of obedience, humility, patience, self-control. It is by the constant exercise of these habits that we grow in holiness and become more and more like to God Himself.

EPILOGUE

“They have forsaken Me, the Fountain of Living Water” (Jer. 2, 13). Thus God complained of His people through the prophet Jeremias, and how true that complaint still is! Men and women are forever turning away from Him who alone can give the Waters of Life, and trying to slake their thirst at the stagnant, poisonous water of earthly pleasures.

In these pages, a brief and imperfect sketch has been given of how God is ever soliciting the human soul in order to draw it to Himself to drink of the heavenly waters that spring up unto life everlasting. But a bare description of grace in dry, theological terms is to the actual reality, what a text-book of Botany is to the glorious, luxuriant plant-life of forest and field! To read about grace and study its nature is one thing, to absorb it into our being from Him who alone can communicate it is quite another. This latter soul-satisfying process we call prayer; and all discussions about grace are barren, unless they lead to more perfect intercourse with God in prayer.

Jesus said to the Samaritan woman: “If you only knew the glorious gift which God is offering you, and who He is that says “Give me to drink,” you would have asked Him, and He would have given you Living Water.” That is it! God gives His graces to those that ask.

In St. Luke (chap. II) Jesus teaches that this asking must be importunate, persevering and full of faith and trust. Hence the Church stresses so strongly the importance of prayer as an essential part of our daily life. She knows that by prayer Saints are produced; and to supply God with Saints is her supreme aim, as it is the ultimate reason for her existence.

Arnold Lunn’s fascinating books about Alpine climbing tell us that this sport re quires great skill and knowledge of the right tracks to follow; strength, courage and energy to overcome difficulties; and withal a competent and reliable guide. To climb the towering peaks of sanctity, the same conditions are necessary, and to supply them Jesus was born. He spent His life mapping out for us the tracks that lead to God; warning us of dangers to be faced, but promising strength to overcome them; and offering Himself to be our heavenly Guide, ever at our service during the ascent. To follow His directions, attend to His warnings, cling to His guiding Hand is what a life of prayer means. Such a life alone can guarantee our final success in reaching those heights from which, we shall behold unclouded the Vision of Eternal Being that will wrap us in ecstatic contemplation for ever.

Nihil obstat:

D. P. MURPHY,

Censor Deputatus.

Imprimatur:

@ DANIEL MANNIX,

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis.

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The Life of Our Lord

SYMBOLISED IN THE MASS

BY SAINT VINCENT FERRER, O.P

INDEX

FOREWORD

St. Vincent Ferrer was born at Valencia, in Spain, on January 23, 1350, and was baptized the same day. His family was of English origin and a Bernard Ferrer, fourth son of the Earl of Derby, and Ansias Ferrer, a Scottish lord, took part in the conquest of Valencia in 1238. Both were ennobled by James I of Aragon. On February 2, 1367, Vincent entered the Order of Preachers at Valencia, and was ordained priest at Barcelona in 1379. His life was one of intense missionary activity. He travelled on foot over Europe many times, preaching Christ Crucified at a period when the Church was in sore straits. So vivid were his sermons that he was called ―The Angel of the Judgment,‖ and his miracles were so numerous-the number of authentic miracles wrought by him and accepted by the Church is 873-and so striking, that he was known even in his lifetime as ―The Wonder-worker.‖ He died on April 5, 1419, and was canonised by Pope Calixtus III on June 29, 1455, though the Decree of Canonisation was not published until October 1 1458, by Pope Pius I. On his missionary journeys he sang Mass each day. His devotion to the Holy Sacrifice was extraordinary. He wept abundantly, and the mere sight of him at the altar inspired love and reverence in all who were present. This little treatise was composed by the saint for the benefit of those who assisted at Mass, and although it is Mass according to the Dominican Rite of which he speaks, his words may well be applied to the Holy Sacrifice celebrated according to any Rite of the Church. Some of the symbolism may appear to be rather forced, but the fact that a saint has written the little work should win a welcome for it. The Contemplacio molt Devota has been published many times, but never, as far as I know, in English.

STANISLAUS M. HOGAN, O.P

A VERY DEVOUT MEDITATION ON THE LIFE OF OUR LORD AS

SYMBOLISED IN THE SACRIFICE OF THE MASS

Every Christian should believe with his whole strength that Our Lord and Master, Jesus Christ, ordained and instituted the Most August Sacrifice of the Mass on Maundy Thursday, in the presence of His holy Apostles, and that He bade them do likewise with great reverence as a continual memorial. For this is the testimony of St. Luke (Ch. xxii., 19), and of St. Paul in his Epistle to the Corinthians: Do this in remembrance of Me (I. Cor. xi., 24)-that is-: Keep before you and meditate upon the Sacred Life of Jesus Christ by hearing Mass. Wherefore the priest says at the Elevation of the Chalice: As often as ye do these things, ye shall do them in remembrance of Me. He does not say, in remembrance of My Passion, but in remembrance of Me, thus showing that the Mass is not only a representation of the sacred death of Jesus Christ, but that it is also an epitome of His whole life, from His Incarnation even to His Ascension.

Some may say, however, that this command was given to, and imposed upon, priests only; that it was not given to lay people. I reply that the command was given to the laity as well. Priests are bidden to keep the sacred life of Jesus Christ in mind by the devout celebration of Mass; the laity are to keep that life before them by assisting at Mass very devoutly.

Now, there are thirty chief things which were done by the Son of God, Who came down from heaven and took flesh in the virginal womb of the Most Holy Mary, each of which is included in, and shown forth by, the Sacrifice of the Mass. These things are the following:

I. THE INCARNATION

The first thing done for our sake by Our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ was His most noble and most wonderful Incarnation, when He came down from heaven and enthroned Himself in the bosom of Mary Ever Virgin, and clothed Himself therein with our vesture—that is, with our human nature; for His Godhead was hidden beneath the veils of His human nature.

This wonderful work is symbolised in the Mass when the priest enters the sacristy, thereby representing the entrance of the Son of God within the virginal bosom of His Virgin Mother, wherein He was clothed with our nature.

The devout Christian may contemplate three things here: First, as relics, vestments, and other church ornaments are kept in the sacristy, so also in the glorious shrine of the virginal bosom there were relics-the power of God the Father, the wisdom and person of God the Son, and the operative grace of God the Holy Ghost. Vestments, too, were there-to wit, Grace and Virtue, since the fullness of Grace and of Virtue was found in Mary Ever Virgin; while the ornaments with which our great High Priest was to offer sacrifice on the Altar of the Cross on Good Friday were present in the most noble and most sacred Body of Jesus Christ, which was formed from the pure and immaculate blood of His Mother. Secondly; the laity do not see the priest vesting in the sacristy, though they believe he is vesting, and hope he will come forth soon. When the Great High Priest, Jesus Christ, was vested in the virginal womb of Mary, the Jewish people knew it not, nor did they behold the mystery, for His Incarnation was hidden and silent. But the faithful ones believed that He would come, that He would become Man, and would be born of a Virgin, as had been foretold by many of the prophets. Thirdly, the priest puts on seven different vestments-the soutane, if he be but a simple priest; the rochet, if he be a Bishop; the cowl, if he be a monk; then the amice, alb, girdle, maniple, stole, and chasuble. So also in the bosom of Mary Our High Priest vested Himself with the seven gifts of the Holy Ghost, wherewith the Most Holy Body of Our Lord was endowed and adorned. (cf. Isaias xi., 2–3.) This is the first work which is represented by the Holy Sacrifice.

II. THE NATIVITY

The second work done by Our Lord was in His issuing forth from the Virgin’s womb on Christmas Night, and in His showing Himself to all the world; then the darkness of night was changed into the brightness of day. He willed to be born in the presence of Mary and Joseph, and to be cradled between two beasts-an ox and an ass. And a multitude of angels sang: Gloria in Excelsis. And the shepherds adored Him. He remained hidden in the bosom of the glorious Virgin, but after His birth He openly and publicly made Himself known.

This is represented when the priest issues from the sacristy: The deacon is a figure of Our Lady; St. Joseph is represented by the sub-deacon; the acolytes are symbolical of the two animals. The lights they carry are symbols of the brightness which accompanied the birth of Our Lord, while the choir which chants the Gloria Patri as the ministers leave the sacristy typify the chorus of angels who sang the Gloria in Excelsis. The music is a symbol of the joy which filled the hearts of the shepherds when the glad tidings of Our Lord’s birth were announced to them. And the priest, clothed in rich vestments, is a figure of the ineffable purity of Jesus Christ, Who was the All Holy, the Stain-less One.

III. THE CIRCUMCISION

The third most wonderful work accomplished by Our Lord was His willing to be circumcised eight days after His birth. Circumcision was an atonement for original sin, and Our Lord was in no wise bound by the law, since He was absolutely sinless. But in submitting to it He taught us by His example a noble lesson of humility, since He willed to appear as a sinner and in the likeness of sin.

When the priest, bowing low, confesses that he is a sinner by the words, Confiteor Deo Omnipotenti (I confess to Almighty God), he symbolises this act of Our Lord. Though he has received sacramental absolution, he is nevertheless bound to acknowledge that he is a sinner even if he were holier than St. John the Baptist, in order that he may show how Jesus Christ, the source and plenitude of all perfection and sanctity, willed to be regarded as a sinner in submitting to the law of circumcision that He might be the fulfilling of the law. Or he symbolises the mystical Body of the Church, the faithful, and in the name of all he confesses the sinfulness of all.

IV. THE THREE KINGS

Fourthly, Our Lord received the three Kings from the East, who, led by the star, were brought to the manger, and though they found the Child with the ox and the ass, they adored Him as their God and Lord of all things, and made their offerings of gold, frankincense, and myrrh.

The priest symbolises this when he goes to the altar after the Confiteor, and, bowing down, kisses it, saying: Remove from us, O Lord, our iniquities, that we may deserve to approach the Holy of Holies with pure hearts. And, first, as the three Kings offered their gifts, so also the priest offers the incense of devout prayer, the gold of great reverence and adoration, and the bitter myrrh in making the Sign of the Cross in memory of the woeful and most bitter Passion of Jesus Christ.

V. THE PRESENTATION INS THE TEMPLE

Fifthly, Our Divine Lord willed to be presented in the Temple. His ever glorious Mother bore Him thither and offered Him to the priest; and Simeon was there, and the holy widow, Anna, praising God.

This is symbolised in the Mass when the priest goes to the Epistle side of the altar and reads the Introit. The deacon and sub-deacon are figures of holy Simeon and Anna, the prophetess. The acolytes and other assistants, who may not ascend the altar steps, are symbolical of Mary and Joseph, and those others who were present, and who stood listening most devoutly to all they heard. Our Lady, indeed, was right worthy to draw near, but she would not, to set the example to those lay folk who, however just and holy they may he, should not approach the altar without grave necessity, lest they suffer loss.

When holy Simeon received the glorious Son of God, Our Lord, into his arms, he sang his Nunc Dimittis (Now thou dost dismiss Thy servant, O Lord) under the inspiration of the Holy Ghost. These four verses are symbolised by four things done by the priest-the reading of the Introit, the Kyrie, a petition for God’s mercy for himself and all others, the singing of the Gloria in Excelsis, and the Collect.

VI. THE FLIGHT INTO EGYPT

Sixthly, Our Lord fled into Egypt from the Land of Promise, giving way before the fury of Herod, and remained in the country of Egypt with His Mother and St Joseph for seven years.

When the sub-deacon, assisted by an acolyte, proceeds to sing the Epistle, the priest, deacon, and other acolyte remaining at the altar, we have a symbol of this sojourn in Egypt. The priest leaves the altar, and. on being seated, does seven things, which typify the seven years of exile- 1st, He reads the Epistle; 2nd, the Responsary; 3rd, the Alleluia (a Hebrew word, which means Praise given to God); 4th, the Tract; 5th, the Gospel; 6th, the incense is blessed, 7th, he gives the blessing to the deacon standing up, to signify that Our Lord returned into His own country in the seventh year.

VII. THE FINDING IN THE TEMPLE

Seventhly, when Our Lord returned from Egypt on the death of Herod, He was brought by His Mother and St. Joseph to the Temple in Jerusalem. Our Lord stayed in the Temple. On the third day Mary and Joseph found Him in the midst of the doctors, hearing them and asking them questions.

This is symbolised by the priest when he goes to the altar and listens with devout attention to the singing of the Gospel, to signify that as Our Lord listened to the questioning of the Jewish doctors and instructed them regarding the Messias, so he listens to the teachings of his Divine Master. Wherefore, on the conclusion of the Gospel by the deacon, the priest intones: Credo in Unum Deum.

VIII. THE HIDDEN LIFE AT NAZARETH

Eighthly, so great was the joy of Our Lady and St. Joseph when they found Our Lord in the Temple that they wept; and Jesus Christ, on seeing this, filled with love and humility, left the company of the doctors and went down with His parents to Nazareth. There He assuaged their sorrow at His loss by His obedience to them, for the evangelist tells us; He was subject to them. (St. Luke, ii. 51.) This lowly service is symbolised by the priest when, on the conclusion of the Credo, he turns to the people and says, Dominus vobiscum (The Lord be with you), afterwards arranging the Host, chalice, and other things appertaining to the Holy Sacrifice, to signify the submission of Our Lord to His Blessed Mother and St. Joseph, since He said: The Son of Man is not come to be ministered unto, but to minister. (St. Matt., xx. 28.)

IX. OUR LORD’S OBEDIENCE

Ninthly, when Our Lord was thirty years old, He left His home at Nazareth, where He had ministered to and obeyed His Mother and St Joseph, assisting them in many ways. He went with the other children to draw water from the well, as the Master of Ecclesiastical History tells us. He worked with St Joseph at the carpenter’s bench as St. Matthew (xiii. 55), and St. Mark (vi. 3), and the Gloss of St. Nicholas of Lyra teach us. Then, in His thirtieth year, He went to the river Jorda n to be baptized. He did not require to be baptized, yet He submitted to the rite, that the water might acquire virtue through contact with His Sacred Body for the re-generation and salvation of all who believed in, and were obedient to Him.

This is symbolised by the priest when he washes his hands at the Lavabo. He does not do this of necessity, for his conscience has been cleansed already by Sacramental Confession, but as a remembrance of the lesson of humility taught us by Jesus Christ in willing to be baptized.

X. THE FAST IN THE DESERT

Tenth, according to St. Luke, St. Mark, and St. Matthew, Our Lord retired into the desert after His baptism, where He fasted forty days and forty nights, neither eating nor drinking, but passing the whole time in prayer, not for Himself indeed, but for us.

When the priest bows low at the altar and prays, In spiritu humilitatis (In a humble spirit), he symbolises this prayer of Our Lord. He prays that we may become a sacrifice acceptable to God through the Sacrifice of the Mass; and the prayer brings to mind the prostrations and humiliation of Our Lord when He prayed and pleaded in the desert. Then the priest turns to the people, saying: Orate fratres, Pray for me, that my sacrifice and yours may both alike be acceptable in the sight of the Lord. Letit be borne in mind that Our Lord’s prayer in the desert was secret; so also now the priest prays so secretly and silently that he cannot be heard by either the deacon or sub-deacon.

XI. OUR LORD’S PREACHING

Eleventh, when Our Blessed Lord had, fasted He―began to preach and to say: ―Do penance, for the Kingdom of God is at hand‖ (St. Matt. iv. 17.) This is symbolised by the priest when he sings, Sursum Corda (Lift up your hearts) in a loud voice, holding his hands uplifted, showing us that Our Lord taught by word and work.

XII. HIS MIRACLES

Twelfth, Our Lord taught not only by word and example, but He confirmed His teaching by His miracles, by those things, to wit, which God alone can do-raise the dead to life, give sight to the blind, and heal the palsied.

The priest recalls this when he says three times, Sanctus, Sanctus, Sanctus, to show that Jesus Christ did not work wonders through any human power, but in the might of the Three Divine Persons, Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, One Almighty God. And when he says, Hosanna, it is to show us that Our Lord worked miracles for our salvation.

XIII. THE PASCHAL SUPPER

Thirteenth, when Our Lord had preached and wrought many miracles He came to Jerusalem to eat the Pasch with His disciples. Many things necessary for the redemption of the human race were done by Him in secret, amongst which there were two principal acts, to wit, the institution of the Most Holy Sacrament of the Altar, and His last discourse to His disciples, as recounted for us by St. John (C., xiii-xvii.) This is symbolised when the priest reads the Canon in secret, so that the deacon alone hears him read, as the Apostles only heard Our Lord’s last discourse.

XIV. THE PRAYER IN THE GARDEN

Fourteenth, when all was finished, Our Lord went forth to the Garden of Olives, and there He prayed three times to His Father on behalf of those who were in limbo, on earth, and those who were yet unborn. And His sweat became blood, a pre-monition to all who were to come after Him that their prayers must be fervent if they were to overcome the great trials and conflicts they would have to face, and which could only be borne by them through fervent prayer and patience.

When the priest makes the Sign of the Cross three times over the chalice, saying, Benedictam, Adscriptam, Ratam, and then makes the Sign of the Cross twice, once over the Host, the other over the chalice, saying Et Sanguis, he symbolises this prayer of Our Lord, to show that in His Passion Our Lord prayed for Himself as Man and for us sinners.

XV. OUR LORD IS SEIZED AND BOUND

When He had prayed in the manner aforesaid the rabble came with great noise, with swords and staves, to seize Jesus. He allowed Himself to be seized and bound, and to be brought in shame before Pilate, who condemned Him to be crucified. Our Lord submitted to the sentence and bore His Cross, which He accepted willingly.

This is symbolised in the Mass, when the priest takes the Host in his hands to consecrate it, saying, Et elevatis oculis in coelum (And lifting up His eyes to heaven). And the bells ring to symbolise the tumult and shouting of the Jews when they seized Jesus. Then the priest makes the Sign of the Cross over the Host, saying, Benedixit ac fregit, etc. (He blessed and broke, etc.), to symbolise the sentence of death which Pilate pronounced on Our Lord.

XVI. IS CRUCIFIED

When Our Lord was condemned to death He was brought to Mount Calvary and crucified between two thieves, the thief on His right being called Dismas; the other, Gestas.

This is symbolised by the priest when he uplifts the Sacred Host with both hands. The right hand is a figure of the good thief, the left hand represents the bad thief. Then he uplifts the chalice to signify that Our Lord offered up His Precious Blood on the Cross to His Eternal Father for the redemption of the human race. Hence the priest should say in his heart at the elevation of the chalice: We offer Thee, O Lord, the inestimable price of our redemption.

XVII. HE SPEAKS AND DIES

Our Lord did not cease from praying when He was nailed to the Cross. And He cried out in a loud voice, Heli! Heli!Lamma sabachtani? (My God! My God! Why hast Thou forsaken Me?). St Jerome says that Our Lord began the psalm, Deus, Deus meus, respice in me; Quare me, dereliquisti? (Ps. xxi.) (O God, My God, look upon Me: Why hast Thou forsaken Me?), and continued the prayer until He came to the words, In manus tuas commendo spiritum meum. (Ps., xxx. 6; St. Luke, xxiii. 46) (Into Thy hands I commend My spirit.)

When Our Lord hung upon the Cross the Jews made mock of Him continually, with scornful words, some exclaiming, Vah, thou that destroyest the temple of God, and in three days buildest it up again (St. Mark, xv. 29); other crying out, If He be the King of Israel, let Him now come down from the Cross . (St. Matt., xxvii. 42), while others said, He saved others; Himself He cannot save. (Ibid.) But Our Lord answered no word; He prayed and pleaded without ceasing until the end.

The priest recalls this to mind when, with his arms outstretched in the form of a cross, he says; Unde et memores Domine, servi, tui, etc. (Wherefore, mindful of Thy servants, O Lord).

Note.-This ceremony is peculiar to the Carmelite and Dominican Rite.

XVIII. HIS SIDE IS PIERCED BY A LANCE

Though Our Lord was wounded in His hands and feet by the nails, He willed for love of us that a lance should pierce His sacred side, whence blood and water gushed forth. This was miraculous and contrary to nature, for His Precious Blood had flowed-first, in the scourging; secondly, in the crowning with thorns; and, again, when He was nailed to the Cross. But after His death, when His side was pierced by a lance, the blood and water flowed so copiously as to cause wonderment.

These Five Wounds are symbolised in the Mass when the priest makes the Sign of the Cross five times with the Host over the chalice, saying, Per Ipsum, et Cum Ipso, et in Ipso (By Him, and with Him, and in Him). These Signs of the Cross are symbolical of the Five Wounds of Jesus Christ.

XIX. THE SEVEN WORDS

When Our Lord was crucified He spoke seven times from the Cross in a loud voice.

These are symbolised when the priest sings in a clear voice the Pater Noster, which contains seven petitions. The priest does not say this prayer secretly, but aloud, for Our Lord spoke aloud on the Cross.

XX. THE SACRED HUMANITY

Our Lord willed that His Sacred Humanity should be divided in three parts -His Body hung upon the Cross; His Precious Blood was poured out; and His soul descended into the Limbo of the faithful.

This is symbolised at Mass when the priest divides the Host into three portions. Yet, it should be noted that he holds these three portions united one to the other; for, although the Sacred Humanity was divided, the Godhead was not separated from the Humanity. It was united to each part, as St. Paul says, Quo semel assumpsit, nunquam dimisit-that is, when the Divinity and Humanity of Jesus Christ were united, they were never separated. Thus, by way of similitude: If a piece of glass be exposed to the sun, and then is broken into ten or twelve pieces, the sun is not therefore broken up into as many pieces, but each piece of glass reflects the sunlight in the same manner that the whole piece reflected it. So also each part of Our Lord’s Humanity was personally and substantially filled with the plenitude of the Divinity, as each piece of glass receives the sunlight fully.

XXI. THE CONVERSIONS WROUGHT

Wishing to, show the efficacy of His Passion, Our Lord wrought the conversion of several persons of various conditions. Wherefore He converted the thief, a man of wicked and sinful life; the centurion, a leader of soldiers, who exclaimed: Indeed, this Man was the Son of God; and many of the people, according to the testimony of St. Luke. And all the multitude of them that were come together to that sight, and saw the things that were done, returned striking their breasts. (1., xxiii. 48.)

These persons are prayed for by the priest at Mass when he says three times, Agnus Dei (Lamb of God, Who taketh away the sins of the world). First, he prays for each sinner, to show that Our Divine Lord yearns to save him even as He saved the good thief. Secondly, he prays that, as Our Lord enlightened the centurion, the head of his men, so may He deign to enlighten those who rule others, whether in spiritual or temporal affairs. Thirdly, he prays that Our Lord will preserve in peace and holiness the whole Christian people, that He will pardon their offences, and make them recipients of His grace.

XXII. THE DESCENT INTO LIMBO

After His death Our Lord did not will to ascend into heaven immediately; on account of His true humanity He willed to descend into Limbo first, that He might give joy to all those saintly souls who longed for Him with eager yearning. As soon as they beheld Him, those souls were filled with rejoicing, and were possessed of essential glory; then, and for all eternity, being exempt from every sorrow.

The priest symbolises this at Mass when he puts one fragment of the Sacred Host into the chalice, a figure of the descent of the soul of Christ into Limbo, and of how He filled those waiting there with such joy and glory that they knew not how so great gladness had come to them. And through the delight and love they praised and blessed Our Lord, saying: Blessed be the Lord God of Israel; because He hath visited and wrought the redemption of His people.

XXIII. THE BURIAL

Our Blessed Lord willed that after His most bitter death His body should be taken down from the Cross by His friends, Joseph of Arimathea, Nicodemus, and Gamaliel, who had obtained Pilate’s permission. They then placed it in the tomb, which still exists in the Church of the Hoy Sepulchre. And His Virgin Mother, the Magdalene, and other holy women were sorely stricken.

This is symbolised in the Mass when the priest, having given the Pax, calls in mind during the short time in which he holds the Body of Christ in his hands the grief of the Virgin Mother and those other holy women who made great lamentation, wherefore he should be filled with sorrow for the sins he has committed.

XXIV. THE ANOINTING

Our Lord willed that He should be anointed with balm and myrrh; that He should be wrapped in a winding-sheet and laid in a tomb cut out of the rock, and that His Body should not stiffer corruption.

This is symbolised when the priest consumes the Body of Christ at Mass, for his heart should be a new sepulchre. As the tomb was hewn from the solid rock, so the priest should be strong of faith and of holy life; as the Body of Christ was wrapped in a clean windingsheet, the priest’s conscience should be cleansed from sin and his life should be chaste; and as Our Lord’s Body was anointed with balm and spices, so too should the heart of the priest be adorned with all virtues. These are the thoughts which should fill, not only the priest, but every Christian who assists at Mass, with love and devotion.

XXV. THE RESURRECTION

Our Divine Lord rose from the dead on the third day, and His tomb was found empty.

This is symbolised in Holy Mass when the priest goes from the middle to the Epistle side of the altar to show that Our

Lord passed from this mortal life to life eternal. The empty chalice is a figure of the empty tomb and of Our Lord’s Resur—rection from the dead by His own divine power. When the deacon folds the corporal it brings to mind the sacred windingsheet in which Our Lord’s Body was wrapped and which was found in the tomb.

XXVI. HE APPEARS TO HIS MOTHER

After His Resurrection Our Divine Lord appeared to His ever-glorious Virgin Mother. The evangelists do not mention this; but the doctors of the Church tell us this expressly, particularly St. Ambrose in his treatise, De Virginibus. And it was fitting that Our Lord should visit and console His Mother before any others, since she had sorrowed more than all others at His death.

This is symbolised when the priest turns to the people and says, Dominus vobiscum, and then sings the prayer of the Post Communion, a prayer full of sweet comfort and a symbol of the consoling words which Our Lord spoke to His Mother, and of the great praise which the souls of the redeemed gave to Our Blessed Lady, exclaiming, Regina Coeli, laetare (Rejoice! O Queen of Heaven).

XXVII. HE APPEARS TO HIS APOSTLES

Our Lord appeared to His Apostles when they were together in the Supper-room, and said to them Peace be unto you. The priest symbolises this when he turns again to the people and says, Dominus vobiscum-that is, Peace be with you all.

XXVIII. HIS COMMISSION TO THE APOSTLES

Our Lord summoned His Apostles and said to them, Going, therefore, teach ye all nations. (St. Matt., xxviii. 19.) This is symbolised when the priest says, Ite, Missa est, and sends each one present at Mass back to his duties, since the

Holy Sacrifice is over.

XXIX. HE APPOINTS ST. PETER HIS VICAR

Our Lord kept His promise made to Peter and the other Apostles by appointing St. Peter as His Vice Regent, saying to him: Feed My sheep. For, according to the doctors of the Church, Our Lord then constituted St Peter Supreme Head of the Church. To the other Apostles He said, Receive ye the Holy Ghost; whose sins ye shall forgive, etc. and He gave them power to forgive sins-that is, divine power.

This is symbolised at the conclusion of Mass when the priest bows his head and inclines his body, saying , Placeat tibi, Sancta Trinitas, praying that the Holy Sacrifice which he has offered in the name of the Church may be acceptable to God and profitable to all Christian people. The inclination which the priest makes in kissing the altar is a sign of God’s infinite mercy, who condescended so much as to bestow on sinful man that power which belongs to God alone-the power to forgive sin. Then the priest makes the Sign of the Cross over the people to show that our sins are forgiven through the Sacred Passion of Our Divine Lord.

XXX. THE ASCENSION

Our Lord willed to ascend to heaven in the presence of the Most Holy Mary, His Apostles, and about fifty persons who were assembled on the Mount of Olives, as St Paul tells us. He lifted up His hands and blessed all who were grieving over His departure, and then He returned whence He came.

This is symbolised at Mass when, having given the last blessing, the priest returns to the sacristy.

Thus the whole life of Our Lord and Saviour is shown forth in the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass. And may He lead us to heaven, Who liveth and reigneth, world without end. Amen.

Nihil Obstat:

J. Donovan,

Censor Deputatus.

Imprimatur:

@ D. Mannix,

Archiep. Melbournensis. 1929

********

The Life of Saint Anthony

FR. AMBROSE RYAN, O.F.M

INDEX

Anthony was not born in Padua, Italy, he was born at Lisbon in Portugal. The date was 1195 and his baptismal name was Ferdinand. His parents were substantial citizens and the family name was something like Bulhom.

He was baptised in the cathedral church of old Lisbon, the Se Patriarcal, and on its ancient font you read: “Here the waters of holy baptism cleansed Anthony from all stain of original sin. The world rejoices in his light, Padua in his body, heaven in his soul.”

AUGUSTINIAN, THEN FRANCISCAN

Anthony Bulhom received his early schooling from the clergy of the Se Patriarcal school and at fifteen years of age he joined the Augustinian monastery of St. Vincent de Fora, Lisbon. When seventeen, 1212, he transferred to the Coimbra monastery of Santa Cruz and there was taught for nine years by the very religious and very capable Canon John: the experience equipped him unusually well for the extraordinary life that was to be his.

When 25 years of age, and quite likely unordained -for in those days it was normal to receive priestly ordination at 30 years, he was lifted from Augustinian monastic observance into the itinerant missionary life of a Franciscan Friar Minor. It is a most interesting example of the strange ways of God’s providence in men’s lives.

The new Order of Friars Minor had been in existence less than twenty years when Ferdinand the Augustinian crossed to it. Despite its youth the Order had made an astonishing beginning attracting hundreds of recruits. Some of these were already found in Coimbra, Portugal, and five of their number boldly ventured into the Saracen-held Morocco to preach Christ’s gospel. They were murdered (or, as we would hold, martyred) by the Saracens in January 1220, and their bodies were carried back to Portugal by local seamen and brought to Santa Cruz monastery, Coimbra.

Ferdinand, it is told, was very moved and irresistibly attracted as he knelt to pray beside the martyred bodies of Friar Berard and companions. And to their brethren from the Coimbra convent of St. Anthony of the Olives (named for Anthony the Hermit) he said: “If I may go to Morocco and imitate these brothers, I will gladly join you.”

And this is what he did with due permission. As a friar minor he became “Anthony,” the name no doubt being assumed in honour of St. Anthony the Hermit, and within months he crossed to Marrakesh, Morocco. But not for martyrdom! God’s Providence entered again and a persistent malarial fever laid him low until it was necessary to give up and set sail for home.

ITALY

At sea a violent storm arose and the ship ran before it to find harbour south of Messina, Sicily. Here Friar Anthony was delighted to find some of his new family of Franciscans, and with these he headed north to come to Assisi, Italy, for the famous Chapter of Mats at Pentecost 1221.

Unheralded and unknown, he surely saw Francis of Assisi -the founder of the Friars Minor-at this Chapter, but there is no report that they met in person. It would not have been easy to do so with more than 3,000 men gathered for this unique meeting.

Friar Gratian, Provincial of Romagna (North Italy), took the new man under his protection and sent him to a hermitage at Montepaolo near Forli, and there he lived in prayer, poverty and study for twelve months.

In the summer of 1222 there was a priestly ordination ceremony at Forli conducted by Bishop Ricciardellus Belmonti. Ordained were Dominican and Franciscan friars, “amongst them Anthony” (as his first biographer put it). He was 27 years of age.

At a reception in the Dominican convent following the ordinations, the new Father Anthony, was induced to speak. “He began without flourish-writes Fr. Clasen O.F,M.-but as he spoke his words became vivid and forceful until the assembly came under the spell of the HolySpirit who spoke through him.” (,St. Anthony, p. 38J.

And the friars minor, and all present, realised that a man of God and a “gifted intellectual” was with them. In a later sermon Anthony said: “When the Holy Spirit enters a soul, He fills it with his fire and lets it enkindle others. All things that draw near to Him feel his renewing warmth.” (Sermons of St. Anthony).

SCHOLARLY MAN AND LEADER

The fame of Anthony-of Lisbon and later of Padua- rests on his deep sanctity and the burning zeal of his ten year period of missionary preaching. These are certainly the highlights of his life as it has come down to us. Actually we have too few precise details about this friar, more famous around the world than the intimately known and extraordinary Francis of Assisi. Yet a few other facts of his life deserve to be told before we write of his preaching and his holiness. These facts are: Anthony was a most capable teacher of the friars minor, and he was an inspiring leader in their midst.

As teacher, he holds the unique distinction of being personally appointed to teach theology to the friars by St. Francis himself. “Friar Anthony, my bishop and theologian” wrote Francis. When you know that Francis of Assissi had a deep ingrained suspicion of learning, of showy learning, and manifested his opposition to it in several determined ways, you realize what a decision it was for him to appoint Anthony to teach the others. Father Clasen thinks that Francis’s decision in this matter “marked a turning point in the history of the franciscan brotherhood.” (St. Anthony, p.44.)

Anthony, of course, taught Sacred Scripture and he taught St. Augustine—the Augustine that Canon John had opened up to him. Ever afterwards the friars minor were to lean towards this “Augustinian” flavour in matters of philosophy and theology. He organised classes for the friars at Bologna; Italy, and soon at Montpellier and Limoges in France. None of his courses could have lasted more than a few months at a time, for he was heavily committed to public preaching year by year, yet his teaching left its mark.

The excellence of his mind may even now be gauged by a testimony of Canon Thomas Gallus, an Augustinian of Vercelli, Italy, a considerable scholar who knew Anthony as a personal friend. Thomas Gallus wrote: “As a close friend I have been able to observe in Brother Anthony of the friars minor a readiness to grasp mystical theology. For though he was not well read in natural sciences, he had a pure spirit and a burning heart and was a man on fire with God. All this enabled him easily to understand all the riches and depths of mystical theology with all his heart.” (Commentary on Dionysius.) It is a precious testimony.

As Leader of the friars, Anthony was Guardian and Custos of Franciscan houses in France 1225–27: Le Py-en-Velay is one, the district around Limoges is the other. And he personally founded the convent of Brive in Central France where, to this day, his cult is best kept in France, Then back in Italy in 1228 he became Provincial of northern Italy atthe Order’s Pentecost Chapter. After three years he retired from this onerous office to remain on in his beloved Padua.

PREACHING WITH POWER

“A burning heart, on fire for God” wrote Thomas Gallus of his friend Anthony. And this is the image of Anthony the preacher handed down in northern Italy and southern and central France. It reminds one of St. Paul’s “I came amongst you with power, invested with the power that raised Jesus Christ from the tomb.”

There is no possible doubt about the amazing success of the man as a preacher. In sober fact he set a standard in the Order of Friars Minor, a standard that was to influence many of his brethren for the Franciscans have had great renown in Catholic history for their enthusiastic gospel preaching.

Anthony began in the Romagna area of north Italy and moved around in Lombardy and Emilia: Rimini, Venice, Friuli, these are cities where his memory is preserved. “He began by speaking to half-empty churches (writes Alice Curtayne),”for good preachers were rare and preaching being in decline, there was a bored indifference to sermons. But he never preached twice in the same halfempty church. In general, the people’s response was prompt. The churches packed to hear him until windows and doors were filled with faces and all the square outside massed with people. Anthony was forced to take a platform out into the streets the better to command his audiences. But when the numbers mounted to thirty thousand, the streets and squares were found cramping, and the platform had to be carried out of the town to a bare hillside, say, or to a meadow, and thither that spectacular mass of people followed him . . .”

“Within a year of his accepting the mission of preacher, when it was known in a city or town that he was coming, shops were shuttered up and the law courts closed in order that no one should be forced to miss the event . . . When the crowds moving to one of his sermons crested a distant hill, some onlooker likened them to a dense flock of birds rising in flight. “Their manner of listening made a deep impression on observers for these thirty thousand were in the habit of standing without movement, and voicelessly, listening together as one man might listen. But sometimes, when the saint paused, they sighed in unison, and then the sound was like a great wind soughing. Another eyewitness left on record this vivid detail: he said that large numbers used to assemble at the platform the night before the sermon to make sure of a good place. Crowds would be seen crossing the fields at night, carrying lanterns to guide themselves.”

Curtayne’s words may sound more like oratory than sober history, yet they can be reasonably verified. Rimini (Italy), Montpellier (France), Limoges (France), Padua (Italy) are four cities and countrysides which still bear witness in memorial stones and in partly written traditions to the amazing power of his preaching, and to the crowds that listened. And these are only a few of many, many places.

A new Elias, a Prophet sent by God, a Hammer of heretics, a Burning Fire—these are ancient encomiums of the preacher Anthony.

And tradition is so insistent on the gospel signs that accompanied his preaching, viz. “that the sick were healed, the lame walked, lepers were cleansed” that it would be quite arbitrary to put them aside. One may say, of course, that the greater wonder still was the penetration of the gospel word into the minds and hearts of the hearers, for it is also traditional that spiritual conversions came almost en masse.

MIRACLES

An excellent modern life of Saint Anthony by Father S. Clasen O.F.M.- published in English by Franciscan Herald Press, Chicago 1961—holds that the saint performed only a few miracles while living; the flood of wonders came after his death.

Two of the most famous are of St. Anthony speaking to the fish at Rimini after the residents ignored him, and the Eucharistic miracle of Bourges.

The Bourges miracle is the one where the Jew challenged Anthony to back up his belief in the real Presence of Christ in the Eucharist by a sign. It was agreed upon to starve an ass and then lead it before some sheaves of hay and a container holding the Eucharist, and see what would happen. The story is that the ass bent its front legs before the Sacrament before attacking the hay and the Jew converted.

Tradition gives us the story of the Child Jesus resting in the arms of Anthony, and we also have the wonder that happened at Arles, France in 1224. Anthony was speaking to the friars in a local chapter when suddenly Frances of Assisi—then alive and well at Assisi!- was seen to appear in the doorway with his arms uplifted in the sign of the cross. A case of bilocation.

PADUA

Earlier it has been said that Anthony returned from France to Italy in 1228 and was then elected Provincial of the Romagna Province. Here he again taught and led the friars, and evangelised the people. Late in 1228 he was in Rome and preached before Pope Gregory IXth and the clergy, as well as to the people. Gregory is said to have called him an “Armory of the Bible” after hearing his biblical sermons.

Padua now became a centre of attraction for the holy man and more and more did he come to visit the city. Then by 1229 he was a permanent resident.

In ancient times the friars minor were called “mendicants” and “Itinerants,” the latter because they wandered here and wandered there. Anthony was surely an itinerant. Portugal—Spain -Morocco—Sicily—Italy—Assisi—Romagna—Bologna. Then north to Arles—Montpellier—Toulouse—LePuy en Velay -Limoges—Bourges—Brive; all in France. Then returning to Italy we can follow him to Monte Luco—La Verna (for several months)—Verona—Mantua—Rimini—Venice—and finally Padua.

In. all these places, it would seem, the friars and the people have kept memories of his visits and of his goodness. The mildest of men in company, and with a heart of compassion for suffering and sin, he could be forceful against usury, doubledealing and unfairness. (There’s a record of him dressing down a bishop, and a good one, in the middle of a sermon with the words: “And now let me speak to you who wears the mitre!”) As said of Francis, so may it be said of Anthony: “He was not so much one who prayed, rather was he a person who was prayer.”

A born teacher; a born leader, and with superb gifts in both, he would as willingly bend his arms to wield a hoe in the field or to prepare a meal for his companions. A homely man.

In the last two years of his brief life he captured the city of Padua. For his Lenten courses of sermons the crowds were enormous, Paduans and country folk, hanging on his words. It was Christ and the multitudes over again!

Somehow as you re-readthe meagre details of Anthony’s life, you form the impression: how like, in so many ways, is his life with that of the Lord and Master!

Father Clasen details the splendid effects of Anthony’s preaching in the Paduan area: “Quarrels were patched up, mortal enemies reconciled, poor debtors released from prison and given their freedom, restitution made of ill-gotten goods. Immoral women reformed their lives, thieves and criminals changed their ways, the public life of Padua—which had been something of a disaster area was considerably changed.” (St. Anthony, p. 105).

The Senate of Padua city “on the plea of Friar Anthony” made a statute in 1231 “to forbid the imprisonment of a person for the sole reason that he had fallen into debts; his goods could be seizedbut he was to be allowed his liberty.”

In this same period Anthony composed the only writings we have from his hand. It is a large volume of Sermons and sermon notes.

DEATH

At the early age of 36 years death came to him. Following the Lent of 1231 which left him very exhausted he left the city of Padua to live in solitude at Camposampiero. A nobleman named Tiso had built him a hut under a large walnut tree with similar accommodation for his companion friars, of whom Luke Belludi was one. Here in retirement he dealt with God about his own life. “God permits his judgment to be exercised by the pious Christian”-wrote Anthony. “For the Christian judges himself and then God finds nothing in him that is worthy of blame.”

On Friday, June 13, 1231, when the friar s” bell called him to noonday meal, he left his hut to eat with the others. As he sat to table he had an attack of weakness and was taken to bed, but soon he asked the friars to bring him back to Padua. They got as far as Arcella with the holy man resting on a waggon. As he got worse they stopped there. He made confession, took Viaticum, and then sang gently “O Gloriosa Virginum’ to Our Lady. One of the friars asked him, “What are you gazing at so intently?” And Anthony replied, “I see my Lord.” He was then anointed, joined the friars in the seven penitential psalms, and in about half an hour “his soul peacefully left his body and was received into the happiness of God’s infinite love.”

PADUA ACCLAIMS A SAINT

It is said that the friars thought to bring his body quietly back to Padua knowing that the people of Arcella and Capo di Ponte would try to keep the holy man with them. They were frustrated, however, when children began to run through the streets of Padua calling out: “The holy father is dead; St. Anthony is dead!”

For four days the people of Arcella and Capo di Ponte strove to keep his remains. They blocked the bridge over the river and cut down a temporary one. Eventually by a ruse the Mayor of Padua outwitted them and Bishop Jacopo Corrado, the clergy and friars, and a procession of thousands of people brought the remains in triumph back to the Friars” church at Padua.

“Immediately after his death- writes Clasen, p. 120-Anthony became the object of an extraordinary devotion, and miracle followed miracle as the prayers of the sick and the afflicted were answered by sudden cures and wonders.” A wave of enthusiasm followed, crowds flocked from the neighbouring towns and villages to visit the tomb. The bishop, the senate, the knights and university students, formed a council to put some order into these noisy gatherings. Candles of enormous size were brought and lighted-one of these needed sixteen men to carry it!

Scarcely a month had passed when the city of Padua sent official requests to Pope Gregory to canonise their man. The canonisation was held at Spoleto on May 30th, 1232.

SHRINE AT PADUA

The Saint, Il Santo, this is how the Paduans have always referred to Saint Anthony. Our man, our treasure, our protector!

Soon they set to work to build him a shrine that would rival the magnificent church of St. Mark the Evangelist at Venice, and this they succeeded in doing. When the new basilica was well under way in 1263, it was decided to exhume the remains and relocate them within it.

St. Bonaventure, Minister General of the friars, was present and bore witness to a wonder. It was discovered on opening the coffin that the body had decayed leaving only the bones, but the tongue of the saint was seen to be fresh and intact. Reverently taking it up Bonaventure exclaimed, “O blessed tongue, you always praised the Lord and led others to praise Him! Now we see how great indeed were your merits before God!” (To this day the tongue is preserved at Padua)

DEVOTION TO SAINT ANTHONY

For nearly 750 years devotions to The Saint, and petitions for favours through his intercession, have never flagged in the Catholic church. These have always been of a popular, even domestic kind. Some thought when Pope Pius XII added his name to the list of important Doctors of the Church in 1946 that the intention was to restore a truer picture of this powerful personality to the people who had made him “The Finder of Lost Articles.” But only time shall tell.

At Padua, Italy, the Conventual Franciscans reverently maintain the beautiful basilica and guard the treasures of the ages accumulated around the tomb of the saint. Enthusiastic devotions are regularly conducted, and an endless flow of devotees and sightseers come and go from all parts of the world. From the frequently published lists of favours granted (cf. Il Messagero di Sant” Antonio), one can see that his cult does not diminish. Many are the special shrines of St. Anthony in the churches of the Catholic world.

DEVOTIONS, PRAYERS, CUSTOMS IN HONOUR OF ST. ANTHONY

DEVOTIONS

A client of St. Anthony should note that in the making of a Novena, the Thirteen-Day Prayer, or any other special prayer to which a Plenary Indulgence is attached, the conditions ordinarily prescribed for gaining the plenary indulgence are the following: confession, Communion, a visit to a church, and prayer for the Pope’s intentions. Done is this way, the Church grants you a Plenary Indulgence which assures you of God’s special blessing.

It has long been a custom, that should God grant you a special favour through St. Anthony, you on your part ought to make some kind of thank-offering, e.g. by an alms to the poor.

TUESDAY DEVOTION AS A NOVENA

(Tuesday is traditionally St. Anthony’s Day because he was buried on Tuesday at Padua in 1231 amidst an outpouring of divine favours, A Novena runs for nine Tuesdays.)

PRAYER

O glorious Saint Anthony, safe refuge of the afflicted and distressed, encouraged by the wonderful favours and graces which God bestows upon those who piously invoke your intercession,

I come to you today with a contrite and hopeful heart. To you, I lift my heart in prayer imploring your blessing, your aid and your protection.

Obtain for me, I beseech you, what I ask in this my necessity (name it).

But if it should be opposed to the Will of God and the welfare of my soul, obtain for me such other graces as shall be conducive to my salvation.

Through Christ our Lord. Amen.

HYMN (A PADUAN TRADITIONAL HYMN)

1. THE DOWER OF GIFTS AND MIRACLES WITHIN THE POWER FOREVER DWELLS OF ANTHONY; SEEK THEN, AND FIND HIM EVER GRACIOUS, JUST AND KIND.

CHORUS

Peace does he give, and gloom departs Beneath his touch from troubled hearts; While treasures lost and sought in vain He finds for young and old again.

2. Then unto him upraise a prayer In direst need and dark despair, For know that in your cares and needs Your plaint he ever hears and heeds. Chorus:

3. To God the Father and the Son And to the Spirit, ever one, Today as in the days of yore May glory be for ever more. Chorus:

ASPIRATIONS

St. Anthony, whom the infant Jesus so much loved and honoured: Grant me what I ask of you. St. Anthony, powerful in word and work: Grant me what I ask of you.

St. Anthony, attentive to those who invoke you: Grant me what I ask of you. Pray for us, Saint Anthony! That we may be made worthy of the promises of Christ.

Prayer:

O God, may this commemorating of blessed Anthony, your Confessor and Doctor, fill your people with joy. May they always be so defended by your spiritual assistance that they may merit to possess everlasting happiness. Through Christ our Lord. Amen.

PRAYER IN GRATITUDE FOR FAVOURS

St. Anthony, the miracle-worker, father to the poor and comforter of those in distress, you have come to my help with such understanding and have brought me peace of mind. For this, I offer you my heartfelt thanks. With my gratitude, accept also my promise, which I here and now renew, to live always in the love of Jesus and my neighbour.

Continue to watch over me protectively, and obtain for me this final grace of being able one day to enter eternal glory and there to join with you in praising God’s mercy. Amen.

THIRTEEN PETITIONS TO ST. ANTHONY (TREDICINA)

These are said on thirteen Tuesdays, or on thirteen days before the Saint’s feast of June 13th, or simply as your regular form of petition through St. Anthony. The Italians have great faith in these petitions which they call the “thirteen” (Tredicina), and it is commonly believed that the author was Saint Bonaventure O.F.M. who died in 1274.

1. O glorious St. Anthony, empowered by God to raise the dead to life, raise me from my present tepidity to a new life of fervour.

Between each petition it is the custom to insert a Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit.

2. O wise St. Anthony, endowed by God with true wisdom, enlighten my mind and open it up toGod’s truth. Glory.

3. O pious St. Anthony, ever ready to help those who seek your aid, assist me in my present need. Glory.

4. O generous St. Anthony, you who listened to God’s inspiration and consecrated your life to his service, help me to listen to andto heed God’s inspirations in my life. Glory.

5. O St. Anthony, man of great purity, keep me safe from immoral conduct and help me to live an innocent life. Glory.

6. Dear Saint, through whose intercession a multitude of sick people regained their health, assist me to recover full spiritual health and to conquer evil desires. Glory.

7. O St. Anthony, on fire with zeal for the salvation of souls, guide me in my life and help me to come to eternal salvation. Glory.

8. O compassionate St. Anthony, deliverer of captives, obtain for me the grace to be free of the bonds of sin and to avoid God’s displeasure in my final judgment. . Glory.

9. O holy Wonderworker, gifted by God with power to restore limbs severed from the body, help me to stay united in love with God and with the Church. Glory.

10.0 helper of the poor, ever ready to find for them the things they had lost, help me never to lose God’s friendship throughout my life. Glory.

11. O most dear Saint, with a ready ear for all petitioners, listen graciously to my prayer and present it to God so that my request may be granted. Glory.

12.0 St. Anthony, unwearied preacher of God’s Word, help me to bear witness to my faith by word and example. Glory.

13. O most loving St. Anthony, whose tomb is so honoured at Padua, have care of me in my needs. I pray that your miraculous tongue may speak to God for me so that I be heard and given consolation. Glory.

PRAYERS FOR SPECIAL FAVOURS

PRAYER FOR RECOVERY OF LOST THINGS

O Blessed St. Anthony, God’s grace has made you a powerful advocate in all our needs and the patron saint for the finding of things lost or stolen; to you I now have recourse with love and confidence.

You have assisted in countless requests for the recovery of lost goods. I recommend my present loss to your care in the real hope that you will help me find it, as long as my request is for God’s glory and the welfare of my soul.

Obtain also for me a strong faith, peace of mind, a love for the things of God, and a sincere active will to do good to others. I make this prayer through Christ our Lord. Amen.

PRAYER FOR THE GIFT OF CHILDREN

St. Anthony, we sincerely pray to you to obtain from God the blessing of a child for our marriage. We acknowledge God’s power over our lives. We acknowledge your special intercession with God, and should our favour be granted we promise to teach this child a special devotion to you.

STUDENTS’ PRAYER

Blessed Anthony, brilliantly endowed with Christian wisdom, I wish to place my studies under your protection. Guided by your example I wish to draw my best knowledge from the lives of Jesus and Mary. May God the Father of Light grant me, through. your intercession, a clear understanding, a retentive memory and a sound judgment. Assist me to study with perseverance so that I may develop God’s gifts in me and use them according to His will. I ask, through you, for success in my examinations as long as it is for God’s honour and my true benefit.

CUSTOMS OBSERVED IN HIS HONOUR

BRIEF OR BLESSING OF ST. ANTHONY

When seriously tempted by the devil during months spent in solitude, Anthony made for himself a small cloth- something like the square of a scapular-and on it he wrote the words: “Behold the Cross of the Lord! Begone you evil powers! The Lion of the tribe of Judah, the Root of David has conquered! Alleluia!” He had evidence that this brought Christ’s help quickly to hand so he recommended the practise to people afflicted by the devils” buffetings. (You could make such a talisman for yourself.)

S.A.G.—WRITTEN ON BACK OF LETTERS

S.A.G. stands for St. Anthony Guide. The custom apparently arose because of the reputed extraordinary delivery of letters between Spain and the New World in some urgent cases following prayers to St. Anthony.

BLESSING OF BREAD (IN HONOUR OF ST. ANTHONY)

A prayer that may be used for this blessing:

“Lord Jesus, in a desert place You blessed and distributed five loaves to feed the hungry multitude: So now we ask

You to bless + these loaves. We will share our meal in honour of your great lover St. Anthony, who was ever so anxious to provide for the poor. As we share the loaves, we ask Your constant care in our lives.”

ST. ANTHONY’S BREAD

The giving of alms to the poor in gratitude for favours received. The custom got the name of “Bread” because an Italian woman promised the weight of her apparently dead child in grain should St. Anthony restore him to life. Apparent death had followed a drowning accident. When the child recovered, she is said to have duly given its weight in grain to the poor. In other places also the “bread-line” was the way to express gratitude to the saint. Donations of bread are still made in some places and bread is blessed and eaten together as a sign of community on his feast.

BLESSING OF LILIES

This is a fairly modern custom. It is done on the feast of the saint and the blessed lilies are kept in the home as a reminder of the beauty and purity of God imaged in the saint. The following prayer may be used for the blessing.

Almighty God, Provident Father of men and Lover of purity, look with favour on these lilies (flowers) which we present to you for blessing in honour of the great Saint Anthony!

May this sign of the Cross invest them with sacramental meaning, and may You who created them to gladden our hearts with their beauty now permit them to convey to us something of your infinite healing power.

May those who devoutly keep these lilies (flowers) in their homes, and invoke the help of St. Anthony, find healing for their sicknesses, an incentive to joy and purity of life, and strength to resist the temptations of the devil. We make this prayer through Christ our Lord. Amen.

WORDS OF ST. ANTHONY

CHRIST IS OUR CENTRE

“From Christ, as from the centre, stream forth all graces to us who are in the circumference. When the soul lies before him like fertile land, it is the Garden of Eden in which bloom the rose of love, the violet of humility, and the lily of purity.”

GAZING ON THE CROSS

“Nowhere can a man more clearly grasp his dignity than in the mirror of the Cross. In it, you see how you must bend your pride, and mortify the concupiscence of your flesh, pray to the Father for those who persecute you, and commend your spirit into his hands.”

ON CONTEMPLATION

“Souls dedicated to God are like the birds of the air, for they are lifted up on high by the wings of virtue and behold the King in his glory. Not in body, but in spirit, they are carried upward to the third heaven and see with the clear eyes of the spirit the majesty of the triune God, perceiving with the ears of their heart things which they cannot express in words or grasp with their minds. The taste of God in contemplation is more precious than anything else; for, no matter what a man might wish for, it is nothing when compared to this. For, when the spirit of a man stands before God and sees his happiness and tastes his delights, then in truth has he attained to paradise . . . All the graces of God in this present life are onlya little drop in comparison with his eternal recompense.”

ON SOLITUDE

“Alas, how many disturbing thoughts go through our heart. As a result we lack the leisure to enjoy the bread of heavenly delights and to taste the joys of interior contemplation. For that reason the good Master invites us: Come apart from the restless throng into a desert place, into solitude of mind and body.” And from personal experience Anthony added: “When a man withdraws from the turbulence of the world and rests in quiet and solitude, tasting the bread of tears as he thinks over his sins, and relishing the delights of heaven, then does the Lord make himself known to him.”

THE HOLY SPIRIT AND FIRE

“The power of fire overcomes all things and is not itself subdued; it imparts its ac tion to the things it encompasses, renews everything that comes near it, and does not decrease as it spreads itself. So too does the Holy Spirit pervade all things by his power, for he is ineffable in his might. When he enters a soul, he fills it with his fire, and lets it enkindle others. All things that draw near him feel his renewing warmth. He leads all hearts upward to heaven.”

APOSTLES

“The world is like a field, and to bear fruit there is as difficult as it is praiseworthy. The hermits bloom in solitary places and shun the company of men. The monks blossom in a garden enclosed and hide themselves from the eyes of men. How much more glorious is it if a Christian brings forth fruit in an open field, the world, for all too easily the twin sprouts of grace, the spirit of a life of virtue and the fragrance of a good name, wither there and die. Therefore did Christ glory in being a flower of the field, since he said of himself: “I am the flower of the field.”

DEMONS

“Christ’s love and Christ’s sufferings drive out every kind of demon . . . When we are tempted by the Devil, we should pray with great fervour: In the name of Jesus of Nazareth, who once commanded the seas and the wind, I command you, depart from me, you wicked spirit!” (Note the custom he introduced of wearing the Brief or Blessing.)

LOVE OF OUR LADY

“The praise of the most glorious Virgin is the sweet voice which delights the ears of the Spouse, Jesus Christ, the Son of that Virgin. For Wisdom, the Son of God, has built himself a house in the womb of the ever-blessed Virgin, and has set up this tabernacle on seven columns, the seven-fold gift of grace in Mary. Truly, blessed is the womb that bore you, O Son of God, Lord of the Angels, Creator of heaven and earth, Redeemer of the world!”

“O C herubim and Seraphim, Angels and Archangels, cast down your gaze in awe and bend your head, and reverently venerate the temple of the Son of God, the shrine of the Holy Spirit, and exclaim:

“Blessed is the womb that bore you. O earthly sons of Adam, to whom this grace, this solitary boast is given! With faith and devotion, prostrate yourselves and honour the ivory throne of our true Solomon, the high and elevated throne of our Isaias, saying:Blessed is the womb that bore you!”

ON THE EFFECTS OF THE SACRAMENTS

CONFESSION

“A leper came to Jesus, fell down before him, and said: If you will it, you can make me clean. So should the sinner in confession kneel before the priest as the representative of Jesus Christ, who has given him the power of binding and loosing. The sinner must have such faith in the dignity of this office that he too will say: Lord, if you will it, you can make me clean and absolve me from my sins. The leper was freed at once of leprosy. God does this very thing each day in the soul of the sinner through the priest, for the priest also must do these same three things: he must stretch forth his hand, touch and will. He stretches forth his hand when he prays to God for the sinner and is filled with compassion for him. He touches the sinner when he consoles him and promises forgiveness to him. He has the will to make him clean when he absolves him of his sin.”

HOLY COMMUNION

“On him who receives the Lord worthily, he bestows his twofold anointing: he lessens temptations and he incites devotion.”

ON PREACHING

“The sermon must be true, not false, without frivolous, jesting, or high -sounding words, and it must call men to weep and do penance, Just as a thorn draws blood when it pierces the skin, and a nail that is driven through the hand will cause great suffering, so should the words of the wise man like a thorn pierce the heart of the sinner and draw forth the blood of his tears, and cause him to have sorrow over his past sins and fear of the punishment of hell. The sermon, moreover, must be sincere, which means that the preacher may not deny by his actions what he says in words, for the whole force of his eloquence is lost when his word is not helped by his deed. Lastly, it must direct its hearers to correction in such a way that, having heard the sermon, they will change their lives for the better.”

ACTIONS SPEAK LOUDER THAN WORDS

(from a sermon by St. Anthony)

“The man who is filled with the Holy Spirit speaks in different languages. These different languages are different ways of witnessing to Christ, such as humility, poverty, patience and obedience; we speak in those languages when we reveal in ourselves these virtues to others. Actions speak louder than words; let your words teach and your actions speak. We are full of words but empty of actions, and therefore are cursed by the Lord, since he himself cursed the fig tree when he found no friut but only leaves. Gregory says: “A law is laid upon the preacher to practice what he preaches”. It is useless for a man to flaunt his knowledge of the law if he undermines its teaching by his actions.

“But the apostles “spoke as the Spirit gave them the gift of speech.” Happy the man whose words issue from the Holy Spirit and not from himself! For some men speak as their own character dictates, but steal the words of others and present them as their own and claim the credit for them. The Lord refers to such men and others like them in Jeremiah: “So, then, I have a quarrel with the prophets that steal my words from each other. I have a quarrel with the prophets, says the Lord, who have only to move their tongues to utter oracles. I have a quarrel with the prophets who make prophecies out of lying dreams, who recount them and lead my people astray with their lies and their pretensions. I certainly never sent them or commissioned them, and they serve no good purpose for this people, says the Lord.”

“We should speak, then, as the Holy Spirit gives us the gift of speech. Our humble and sincer e request to the Spirit [or ourselves should be that we may bring the day of Pentecost to fulfilment, insofar as he infuses us with his grace, by using our bodily senses in a perfect manner and by keeping his commandments. Likewise we shall request that we may be filled with fiery tongues for confessing the faith, so that our deserved reward may be to stand in the blazing splendour of the saints and to look up to the triune God.”

APPENDIX

A RECENT REMARKABLE CURE

(Details given here come from Elia Bruson,Il Messaggero do Sant”Antomo, Padua, Nov. 1976, p. 42–43.) At Lappano near Cosenza, Italy, a remarkable cure happened in 1975 through prayer to Saint Anthony. Cosenza is found at the extreme south of Italy, in the “toe of the foot” that gives southern Italy its peculiar shape. And

Lappano is a village in the high Sila mountains fifteen kilometres from Cosenza.

Here on July 28th, 1975, a remarkable thing happenedto Iolanda Gervino under God’s healing hand mediated by St.

Anthony. Iolanda is an unmarried woman and was then 57 years of age.

When Iolanda Gervino was thirty one years, in 1949, she became a complete invalid unable even to move from her bed and to do anything for herself. A complicated thyroid complaint laid her low, robbed her body of all its strength; resisted all medical cures, and prostrated her in bed for 26 long years. She was attended by her wonderful sisters and brother in every possible way. But, of course, over 26 years her body had greatly deteriorated, she was anaemic and emaciated. Then as the long hopeless years rolled by she began to pray almost desperately that God would not allow her to outlive her two sisters and one brother who attended so carefully to her needs. When one of the sisters died her prayers became even more pointed.

SUDDEN RELIEF

And then, after this long ordeal, and precisely on July 28th, 1975, relief came suddenly. With reserve and simplicity she told Fr. Bruson-in August 1976- what happened on that unforgettable day.

“It was about ten past three P.M. on a very sultry day. I was lying on my bed as usual and quite listless. In the same room taking siesta lay Lida, my sister, and Giovanni, my brother. As I lay half-asleep and half-awake there suddenly came to me a Friar who stood nearby and ordered me to get up. I said to him that I could not do it, I couldn’t even move . . . but he repeated his order three times. The third time he put his hands under my head and urged me on assuring me that he would help me to walk. In that instant I felt perfectly well. He took my right hand and helped me lift myself up, and then he vanished. Since that moment I have had no suffering and I am well.”

“Naturally my sister and brother were bew ildered to see me out of bed and active, they rushed to help me. And when we got to the front room, where St. Anthony’s picture hangs on the wall, I pointed to it and said to them, “There he is, he’s the one who cured me.” I took down the picture, laid it on the floor and knelt in front of it and kissed it with my heart bounding with joy and thanks. After a while my brother and sister began to calm down, they had been seized with a fear that I was about to die!”

HER BROTHER’S STATEMENT

Of this marvellous incident Giovanni Gervino says: “Such a strong wind blew just after three o‘clock that day that I said to my sister Lida, “It must be an earthquake?” And at that instant I saw a white cloud from the balcony and my sister Iolanda was up on her feet. I jumped from my bed to support her but she kept saying she was cured and could stand on her own feet. It was an incredible happening for us . . . Iolanda told us about the vision, and immediately asked me to telephone Don Saverio Greco, our parish priest, to have a Mass of Thanksgiving said the next day which was Tuesday in honour of St. Anthony. Then she asked me to take her to Padua to thank the Saint.” (Padua is 1000 kilometres distant.)

“That afternoon and evening we hid the news except from a few close friends” said Giovanni, “because we really thought she might collapse and die. But Iolanda gradually took on a good colour and was relaxed and happy: she moved about freely as we watched her carefully. Next morning she got herself up and attended to her personal toilet. So we decided to tell our neighbours and the marvellous news ran around the neighbourhood like lightning.”

Giovanni and Lida then decided to wait for a year before telling the world about the event, and when Iolanda was perfectly well after the year and able to work hard they allowed newsmen to publish the story.

“We firmly believe (they said) that on July 28, 1975, through the intercession of St. Anthony with God a miracle happened in our house.”

THE DOCTOR’S EVIDENCE

Doctor Scarpelli, who knew Iolanda for many years, says that when he was rung in July and heard the news he left an uneaten meal and ran to the house: “I experienced a tremendous and unforgettable emotion (he recalls), not only because the lady was on her feet and walking in a normal way, but because her general condition had altered so dramatically.

She was no longer a wasted, anaemic, listless person, there was colour in her face and strength in her body. Afterwards I quizzed my colleagues and the hospital people where I work on the chances in such a case, and I have become convinced that an extraordinary and inexplicable event happened in the Gervino household.”

Don Greco, parish priest, was deeply moved when he found Iolanda so transformed on the day after the vision. He notified Enea Selis, Bishop of Cosenza, and depositions were taken and made public in August, 1976. The Bishop has simply stated that from the evidence something remarkable happened on July 28, 1975.

This event, given in detail, should amply reassure us that the power of God, through the intercession of the Saints, is very near.

Nihil Obstat:

BERNARD O”CONNOR, Diocesan Censor

Imprimatur:

@ T. F. LITTLE, Archbishop of Melbourne.

The Life of Saint John Berchmans, S. J

INDEX

THE BEAUTIFUL TITLE OF “THE ANGEL SAINTS” HAS BEEN GIVEN TO THAT TRIAD OF EXQUISITE FLOWERS OF DAZZLING PURITY WHICH BLOOMED IN THE GARDEN OF THE SOCIETY OF JESUS: ST. ALOYSIUS, ST. STANISLAUS, AND ST. JOHN BERCHMANS. THESE VERY BLOSSOMS UNFOLDED THEIR STAINLESS PETALS JUST SUFFICIENTLY TO LET US DIMLY GUESS AT THE BEAUTY WHICH LAY CONCEALED WITHIN THEIR HEARTS TO BE UNFOLDED AS THESE RADIANT BLOSSOMS DEVELOPED INTO FULL FLOWER. “ANGEL” WAS THE TERM APPLIED TO THEM BY THOSE AMONGST WHOM THESE HOLY YOUTHS LIVED AND DIED. IT WAS THE HIGHEST EXPRESSION OF THEIR WONDER AND ADMIRATION, AND CONVEYS TO US, WITH MARVELLOUS FORCE AND ACCURACY, THE IMPRESSION THE SAINTS PRODUCED ON THOSE AROUND THEM. IF ONE OF THE ANGELIC SPIRITS WHO SURROUND THE THRONE OF GOD WAS PERMITTED TO COME DOWN ON EARTH IN MORTAL GUISE, IT SEEMED TO MEN THAT HE WOULD LOOK LIKE THESE WHOSE EARTHLY FORMS REFLECTED THE BEAUTY OF THEIR SOULS.

Eminent sanctity is ever and always attractive, but especially is it so to the children of men when to it is allied the ineffable charm and grace of early youth united to the most stainless innocence. The hardest-hearted, the most worldly, are touched by this supernatural sight and, driven as they are to seek an explanation of the phenomenon in supernatural causes, they apply the term which so fittingly describes it-”Angel.”

BIRTH OF ST. JOHN BERCHMANS

MIDWAY BETWEEN Antwerp and Maestricht lies Diest, an ancient town with a fine market-place, narrow, medieval streets, and strange old houses, with curious pointed gables. A sleepy old Flemish town of the Middle Ages, there is nothing within its walls to arrest the attention of the ordinary tourist. . But to the Catholic it possesses the supreme interest of being the birthplace of a Saint-one of the “Angel Saints.”

Leading from the market-town is a narrow street, on the left of which a house, three stories high, attracts the traveller’s attention, not indeed, because of anything remarkable in its architecture. It is unassuming in style, and the front seems of recent construction. But in the centre of this house is a niche, and within this niche stands the statue of a youth, in the habit of a religious, holding in his hands, which are clasped, a book, a rosary, and a crucifix. Underneath an inscription tells us that this is “The house of Blessed Berchmans.” Here our Saint was born, on Saturday, the 13th of March 1599. The room in which he first opened his eyes upon those earthly scenes is still shown, but it is in a sadly dilapidated condition.

PARENTS OF ST. JOHN BERCHMANS

TOWARDS THE CLOSE Of the sixteenth century there dwelt in this house, then known as the sign of “The Great and the Little Moon,” a worthy citizen of Diest named Charles John Berchmans. He was a man of stainless integrity, and stood high in the esteem of his fellow-townsmen, by whom he was elected to some of the most important posts in the Municipal Council. The reigning sovereign, Archduke Albert, had also appointed him echevin, or one of ten magistrates appointed to keep the peace of the city. His father had held the post, and so had two of his brothers.

The Berchmans were among the best families in the place, but, like all the Flemings, they did not disdain trade. Hence, Charles Berchmans followed the avocation of a cordwainer, or shoemaker, at the sign of “The Great and the Little Moon.”

Berchmans” wife, Elizabeth Vanden Hove, was a member of a very rich, influential family of Diest. Although not of older or gentler descent than the Berchmans, the Vanden Hoves, by means of their wealth, had attained to a far higher position in the social world. We are told that no cordial relations would seem to have existed between the two families. Hence, we may infer that the wealthy Vanden Hoves resented the marriage of a poor Berchmans with a daughter of their house.

Both Charles Berchmans and his wife were regarded by the people of Diest as models of piety and virtue, Their family consisted of four sons and one daughter, and the pious couple spared no effort to train these souls committed to their care, from their earliest years, to walk in the paths of holiness and virtue.

ST. JOHN BERCHMAN”S CHILDHOOD

OUR SAINT, as we have seen, was born on a Saturday, and on the following day he was .taken to the parish church of St. Sulpice, and there baptised, receiving his father’s second name, John. The old church, much defaced by the storms of troublesome times through which it has passed, still stands in the market-place, and in the yellow pages of the ancient baptismal register may still be traced the entryof the saint’s baptism.

From his earliest years John manifested the most unalterable sweetness of disposition. Long afterwards, when he had passed away to heaven, those who had known him in his early years loved to recall how visibly God had set his seal upon him even from infancy.

Of a joyous, bright, disposition, never was his sunny brow clouded by childish petulance or ill-humour. Naturally vivacious and ardent, he was never seen to give way to temper or impatience. Even when abused and ill-treated by other boys, as will, of course, sometimes happen amongst boys, John bore all meekly and without complaint.

He was sent, when very young, to a day-school. It sometimes happened on his return that his knocks at the housedoor passed unnoticed, whereupon the holy child would steal away to the church of St. Sulpice, and there, kneeling at the foot of Our Lady’s statue, he would recite five or six rosaries. When not yet seven years of age, he was in the habit of rising before daybreak. His grandmother remonstrated with him for getting up so early, upon which the little fellow made answer: “Oh! dear grandmamma, I must serve my two or three Masses before school-time. What better place could there be to win knowledge quickly and surely?”

HIS .MOTHER”S ILLNESS

JOHN HAD barely reached his ninth year when his mother was stricken with the mortal malady which for eight weary years confined her to a bed of suffering. Our Saint loved his mother tenderly, and he was ever at her side, ministering to her, cheering her, consoling her with such words of saintly wisdom as filled those who heard him with amazement. In her moments of greatest suffering the presence of her angelic little son soothed and consoled the poor mother.

John was indeed the most wining and attractive of boys. Everyone loved him, but, child as he was, he shrank from observation and shunned society. He never left his home except to go to school or to the church. His master bears witness to his retiring, modest disposition. “Nowhere,” he tells us, “did he see him so often as in the church; nowhere so seldom as in the streets.”

JOHN”S FUTURE GLORY PREDICTED

JOHN BERCHMANS seems to have manifested from an early age remarkable talent and aptitude for study. His master, Wouter Van Stiphout, kept his school in the medieval cloth-market, which still, at the present day, is used as the public school. When John reached his eleventh year, he was entrusted to Stiphout’s care, and in a very short time succeeding in gaining his deep and lasting affection. Stiphout loved this beautiful, saintly boy, and to his love was united admiration for his brilliant gifts. John was, indeed, a pupil to be proud of.

Diligent, painstaking, he quickly outstripped all his young companions. “I looked upon him,” says Stiphout, “as a sort of natural wonder. I praised him before my scholars, and proposed him to them as a model for their emulation. One day, when his father was asking me how he was getting on, I recollect saying: “How blessed you are in such a son! He will be your consolation, andmy honour and glory.”” Truly prophetic words, which in a few years were to receive such glorious fulfilment.

VOCATION FOR THE PRIESTHOOD

OUR SAINT”S vocation was never for a moment uncertain. His pure, spotless heart never held any desire, knew any ambition, save that of serving his God at the altar. His father, urged by Stiphout’s earnest words, consented to allow his son to obey the call of God, and to put on the clerical dress.

At that time the parish priest of the church of Our Lady in Diest was a Premonstratensian monk named Father Peter Emmerick. This religious had gathered round him at the presbytery a number of pious youths with vocations for the priesthood, this forming, as it were, a sort of seminary.

Just at this time John’s father found himself m very straitened circumstances; but, notwithstanding, he determined to send his son to Father Peter Emmerick. Charles Berchmans” lively faith and fervent piety caused him to shrink from no sacrifice-whereby his children’s welfare, above all, their spiritual welfare, might be secured. And God richly re- warded those sacrifices.

JOHN”S NEW LIFE

FROM THE DAY that John Berchmans left his father’s house to go to Father Peter Emmerick he scarcely ever visited it. He still continued to attend Stiphout’s school, which was quite near to his old home, but the new home at the presbytery of Notre Dame seems to have filled his heart completely.

Very won derful is the record left to us of this boy’s life during those years spent with Father Emmerick. It was his delight to serve Mass, which he did with the most .profound recollection. He loved to hear the Word of God, and he would sit drinking in the preacher’s words with a thoughtful gravity befitting one of maturer years. He was extremely reticent, never speaking but when spoken to, and then his words were very few and measured. Withal he was a merry, bright boy.

YOUTHFUL VIRTUE

JOHN”S OBEDIENCE was prompt and unquestioning, and he was ever ready to serve others. He contrived that a good portion of the servants” work should fall to him, and he would take his books and sit near the door, so as to attend promptly to the bell. It fell oftener to his turn to read in the refectory than to any of the others. He specially delighted in the Book of Proverbs, the Lives of the Saints, and the Passion of Our Divine Lord.

Boys as a rule delight in eating, but John never thought about his food. He took everything that was given to him, never finding fault with anything. He ate sparingly, and when in the refectory seemed so abstracted that those around him used to make jokes, telling him that his mind went to travel whenever he went to the refectory. All this mortification and recollection did not prevent our young Saint from being the brightest and sweetest of companions. Everyone loved him. Never was he known to dispute or quarrel. He often acted as peacemaker in his companions” quarrels, and if he found that be could not restore harmony he would quietly slip away.

LOVE OF PRAYER

WE HAVE SEEN how even in early childhood John shrank from going amongst people. This dislike to society grew with his youth. His first master, Stiphout, declared that his aversion to the world arose from the exquisite delicacy and purity of his conscience: “John was ever so simple and innocent, that he did not even know by name vices to which boyhood has too often an inclination. And this was why he kept away so much from his companions.”

During the recreation hour, he would stay in his room engaged in prayer or study until his master, fearing the effect of such application upon his health, forced him to join his companions. Sometimes he would be found in the most out-ofthe-way corners in the house absorbed in prayer.

FIRST COMMUNION

IT WAS DURING his stay with Father Emmerick that St. John Berchmans made his First Communion, being at the time between eleven and twelve years of age. Who can tell with what burning love and fervent piety he prepared to receive his Divine Lord into his pure heart! He made his general confession to Father. Emmerick, who was filled with awe and” admiration at the seraphic beauty and purity of that young soul. He tells us that he could not restrain his tears when he saw the “angel who was at my feet, all bathed with tears, as with deepest contrition he accused himself of the lightest faults.” So great was John’s innocence that for some time Father Lmmerick hesitated about giving him absolution, in doubt that there was sufficient matter in his confession.

When the great day at last arrived, the day so long desired, so ardently looked forward to, the Saint received his Hidden God from Father Emmerick’s hands, in the venerable church of Notre Dame. More than ever, like an angel was the holy child at that moment: The venerable priest declared that the boy’s face was radiant shining with the light of purity and the burning love which consumed him., John’s First Communion proved for him as indeed it does for all children, an epoch in his life. Henceforth he advanced in the path of holiness with great strides. His love of God grew daily greater. His whole soul was, as it were, on fire with love for his Lord. The sacred Name of Jesus, the first his mother had taught his babylips to utter, filled him with ecstacy. Let us quote from his master again: “When he began to make progress in Latin versification, I gave him leave to choose a subject for a theme in verse. He brought me an eulogy on the Name of Jesus, so full of meaning, tenderness, and unction, that it was easy to surmise, even then, that one day he would enter the Society of Jesus.” A copy of this poem, in which John strove to express his pure heart’s burning love for Jesus, is still preserved in the Royal Library in Brussels.

While living in the presbytery of Notre Dame, St. John Berchmans went to confession every week, and he received Holy Communion twice during the month as well as on all great feasts.

HIS LOVE FOR OUR BLESSED LADY

SECOND ONLY to his love for Jesus, was that felt by our Saint for Mary. From his infancy he had the most childlike trust and confidence in her. The mere mention of our Lady brought a heavenly smile to his beautiful face, and when he spoke of her there was a light in his eye, and a tenderness in his voice, which revealed the depth of his love. All the witnesses for the cause of his beatification testified to the Saint’s extraordinary devotion to the Immaculate ;Mother of God. He never passed a statue of our Lady without saluting it, he never left the church without paying a visit to Mary’s altar. He used to deprive himself of a portion of every meal in her honour, and many and ingenious were his contrivances to hide this.

The Queen of Purity showed how acceptable to her was the love and devotion of this spotless young heart. She shielded her favourite from the lightest breath of evil. The lily of spotless purity bloomed in angelic loveliness in John’s heart. Innocent as he was of even the name of vice, a supernatural instinct caused him to shrink with horror from the slightest thing that could tarnish the lustre of his virginal purity. He would never allow anyone to touch him, and the least levity in words or action on the part of any of his companions caused him to shun the delinquent’s company.

SHRINE OF OUR LADY OF MONTAIGU

ABOUT A LEAGUE from Diest, on the summit of a very high hill, stands the Sanctuary of Our Lady of Montaigu, especially dear to the Belgians. The stately church which crowns the hill top was not completed until after our Saint had passed to Heaven. The foundation-stone was laid by the Archdukes Albert and Isabella; but the good Albert did not live to see its completion eighteen years later.

John made repeated pilgrimages to the Shrine of our Lady of Moritaigu. There was nothing he loved better than to walk from Diest to the Sanctuary, observing strict silence as he went, meditating on our Lady, and reciting her Rosary.

TROUBLES

CLOUDS WERE gathering over the Saint’s peaceful life of prayer and study in the presbytery of Notre Dame. Charles Berchmans” financial difficulties had not lessened, rather they had grown greater. His wife’s last illness had entailed heavy expenses, to say nothing of the serious loss which the want of her presence and prudent management was to his home. Business was bad, and his other children were growing up and required education. In his sore straits, the father’s thoughts turned to his eldest son, now nearly fourteen. John was a youth of exceptional talent, so his masters averred. Surely he could be of some use now. At least he could help his father in his business, and relieve him of the burden of his support. Accordingly, John was sent for from school, all unconscious of the blow about to fall upon him. “You see, my child,” said his father, “it is impossible for me any longer to bear the expense of your schooling. Up to this I have made great sacrifices, but I feel it impossible for me to continue them. It seems to me you must learn a good trade. You will by this means be able to be of great use to us, and, instead of being a burden to your family, be a real assistance.”

JOHN”S SORROW

WHO CAN describe our Saint’s sorrow as he stood by his mother’s bed and heard his father’s words? We are told that he threw himself at his father’s feet, and with bitter tears supplicated, first his father, then his mother, not to take him from the service of God at the altar. “You know, father,” entreated the weeping boy, “God calls me to the Church. A little longer, and I shall be able to follow that holy calling. In Heaven’s name, do not hinder my happiness. As to the expense, you shall have no reason to be alarmed on that score. I will be. content with so little you shall not suffer. I can live on bread and water. But, pray, do not refuse me permission to continue my studies.”

Charles Berchmans, as we know, was a man of true piety; he was also a tender father. The sight of his boy’s distress affected him to tears, and we cannot doubt but that the suffering mother felt an added pang at seeing her angel son, the solace of her life, so wrung with anguish. Charles raised the weeping boy, and poured balm into his troubled heart by promising to reconsider his decision.

JOHN LEAVES DIEST FOR MECHLIN

CHARLES BERCHMAN held anxious council with his wife as to how their son’s holy desires might be gratified. The result of their deliberations was that the elder Berchmans set himself to seek for some place where John would receive board and education in return for his domestic services. To us this sounds a strange arrangement, but one, it seems, quite usual in those days, where there were but few ecclesiastical colleges. Before long the desired place was found in the house of a Canon in Mechlin.

Great was the grief of the people of Diest when they found that the angel-boy, whom all loved, was going to leave them. Listen to his old master, Stipbout: “While I was congratulating myself on having such a pupil, and was enjoying in peace this favour from heaven, when my townsmen, with one voice, gave him the title of the flower of the school and the pride of the scholars, some persons who envied my good fortune, tried to get his father to send him to Mechlin.” Poor man! Can you not sympathise with him in his grief at losing his saintly pupil? Years afterwards, when he was called on as a witness in the case of John’s beatification, he revealed how deep and lasting was his sorrow for his angelpupil. “Life has been very bitter to me,” says the old man, “since I lost that holy child.”

Our Saint had a loving heart, and we cannot doubt but that he, too, felt the paring from father, mother, all he loved. But God was calling him, and the Saint obeyed that call promptly, without pausing to count the cost, as is the way of saints.

Early in 1614, St. John Berchmans bade farewell to home and friends, and wended his way to Mechlin, then the primatial city of Belgium.

HIS NEW HOME

CANON JOHN FROYMONT, of whose household John now found himself a member, was not long in discovering the treasure of holiness whom God had sent to him. Like all who came in contact with the Saint, he conceived the warmest affection for him, an affection which neither time nor distance ever chilled. The Canon kept a number of boys of good family committed to his care. John, at once, on his arrival, assumed the lowest place in the household, and undertook to perform the most menial offices, washing plates and dishes, sweeping the yard, etc., But the Canon, who soon came to regard John in the light of a dear son, would not allow him to continue in such a menial position. He gave him the charge of three little boys, brothers, and in this manner satisfied John’s scruples on the score of working for his living. Our Saint was, indeed, an earthly guardian-angel to those children, watching over them, instructing them and leading them to God with true and unwearied care.

As at Diest, so at Mechlin, John won the admiration and love of everyone. His modesty, his charming manner and appearance took all hearts by storm. No one could look at the beautiful boy without feeling convinced that a soul of dazzling purity and holiness dwelt in the angel-like form. He lived for God alone, and in all places, at all times, his heart was turned to Him as a flower turns to the sun. Young men of the highest families in Mechlin sought his company, lowly as was his position. John was affable and courteous to all, but no amount of notice could disturb his deep humility, or cause a breath of vanity to ruffle his pure heart. He maintained a calm, reserve, yet was ever courteous and obliging, willing to spend himself for others.

Sundays John devoted wholly to prayer and God’s service. He used to hear two, sometimes three Masses, kneeling, without moving, and always was present at the Sunday sermon and vespers.

ST. JOHN BERCHMANS ATTENDS THE JESUIT COLLEGE

IN 1615 the Jesuit Fathers, at the request of the civil authorities, opened a public college in Mechlin. John with some other of Canon Froymont’s pupils, was among the earliest alumni of the new college. John, who attended as a day scholar, was judged fit, on presenting himself, to become one ofthe “Rhetoric” class, the highest in classical studies.

In this new sphere, the Saint redoubled his zeal. He was a model to the whole college of every virtue. He scrupulously obeyed his masters, even in the most trivial points. He was the most fervent and edifying of the members of the Sodality of the Blessed Virgin. Every day, we are told, he recited, prostrate on the ground, the Office of the Blessed Virgin; whilst on Saturdays, and the eves of her great feasts he fasted in our Lady’s honour. He always remained for two or three hours in prayer after receiving Holy Communion. One Good Friday, he contrived to slip out of the Canon’s house at night, and to make the Stations of the Cross in his bare feet. Here again, we have proof of John’s humility and horror of notice, for we are told that on these occasions, in order to avoid remark, he wore shoes without soles; and stockings without feet. The Saint had a great horror of idleness. He was never known to lose a moment of time. Sometimes he studied the whole night long. This unwearied application and his brilliant talent, enabled him to distance all competitors, and to carry off the first prizes.

HE DECIDES TO ENTER THE SOCIETY OF JESUS

IN 1616 John wrote to his parents that he felt convinced that it was the will of God he should enter the Society of Jesus. He had come to this conclusion after much consideration and long and fervent prayer. His confessor, Father de Greef, fully approved of the Saint’s resolution. Here is what he says about his saintly penitent’s vocation: “John Berchmans, who was my pupil and penitent all the time he was attending our college, opened his mind to me about entering the Society; and for the same end, by my advice, he used to go to Communion every Sunday and holiday, and later on, every Thursday even when there were no feast days. . . . Whatever bad behaviour might be in class, he was ever the same, modest, attentive, hardworking, never a shadow on his brow, and his face always wreathed in sweetness; he was always good-natured, and kind to all. One would have said he was an angel in the flesh. In conversation, he was always trying to find out, when he had to do or say something, what would be the most perfect. Indeed, once or twice by the ardour of his consideration, he lit up in my cold heart some flames, though feeble, of divine love, and the very thought of them to this day fills me with confusion when I recall several practices which I suggested to him, and which I have read of in his life.” John’s design met with great opposition from his parents, especially his father, who wished his son to become a secular priest; but, convinced of God’s Will, the ,Saint remained firm, and finally triumphed over all obstacles.

“I am greatly surprised,” he wrote to his father, “that you, in place of loving and thanking God for the great favour that He has willed to do not only myself, but yourselves also, in calling me to holy religion, and .to such an Order, where men lead the lives of angels, and you, I say, should counsel me not to .listen to our dear Lord, and to put off my vocation for five or six months. It is not right, as you well know, that in order to obey you, I should be disobedient to God. Our dear Lord, when He called a young man to follow Him, would not let him go to bury his father who had just died, though this was a good work, and one which needed but a short time. And when He called another He forbade him to say goodbye to his friends, saying: “No one putting his hand to the plough, and afterwards looking backwards is fit for the kingdom of God.” Why do you think He said this, if it was not to show us that we must follow our vocation then and there without delay? So then, my ever honoured parents, that I may obey God, our Lord, that I may make my salvation sure, and in fine that I may avoid that fearful sentence: Vocavi et renuisti; quoque in interitu tuo ridebo-I called and you refused; I also will laugh at your destruction.” I mean, with God’s grace, in a fortnight hence to share the joys of my brothers in religion.”

ENTRANCE INTO RELIGION

On SATURDAY, 24th September, 1616, Feast of Our Lady of Mercy, our Saint bade farewell for ever to the world, and entered the Novitiate of the Society of Jesus in Mechlin. He was then just eighteen years of age, “his face, always beautiful and beaming, was taking the form and shape of manhood.” He was poorly dressed. “He wore a black cloth doublet and breeches of the same, a grey cloak fell from his shoulders, and a stiff white collar, without frills or plaits, supported by a black stock, ran round his neck” (Father Goldie). Another young student from Bois-de-Duc, entered at the same time. “come, brother,” said the Saint to this young man, “let us rejoice that we are in the house of the Lord, we must not .be found unworthy of so great a favour. May both of .us always live in this holy Society of Jesus, where God’s service calls us, and may we meet in Heaven after long and hard work.” Then, noticing a lay-brother digging m the garden: “There,” said he, “we can begin at once; there is no better opening for religious life than humility and charity;” and, throwing off his cloak, he went to help the good brother. So great was John’s delight at finding himself in the haven of his desire that throughout that happy day he could not cease from weeping from very joy.

John repeatedly declared to Father de Greef, that in entering religion he “aimed at nothing less than the most scrupulous fulfilment of the least of the rules of the institute.” “I want to be a Saint,” he said; “yes, and a great Saint, too! Is it possible to conceive that one should not attain an eminent sanctity with all the powerful means of sanctification the society has at its disposal?”

LIFE IN THE NOVITIATE

ST. JOHN BERCHMANS, from the very first day of his entrance into religion, began to carry out to the very letter his ideas regarding the life of a true religious. Hence, it is not surprising to hear that in one month he had made more progress than many made in twenty-four. The novices longest in the house felt and acknowledged that this latest arrival had far outstripped them in the science of spiritual life.

John constantly repeated “that perfection does not consist in doing great things, but in doing well what obedie nce orders and advises.” Again, he used to say: “Set great store on little things”; and another of his sayings was: “Do great penance for small faults. Be a miser and a merchant in spiritual things.” All his companions looked on him as sent by God .amongstthem to be their model of perfection. One of them, soon after John’s entrance, speaking of him, said:

“Just at the very time when our Lady began to work miracles= at Montaigu, she wrought a still more extraordinary wonder at Diest, by making an angel comedown in the flesh.” Such was the universal testimony of all whoever knew him-his. friends in the world, his companions in religion, even strangers who only caught a glimpse of him as a noviceall called him “the Angel.” No other words could express the impression made upon them by his beauty and the purity which exhaled from him like the fragrance of some rare flower. He was also called St. Hilarius or St. Laetus, so bright and sunny was his disposition. Gloom and sadness were dispelled by his mere presence. One of the Fathers, after his, death, declared: “I lived two years with him in the Novitiate: Well, I am ready to declare, on oath, I never noticed in him the smallest movement of impatience or anger.”

HIS MORTIFICATION

WITH ALL HIS brightness, his sweetness, his, gentleness, John practised the severest mortifications. Like all saints, he was severe to himself alone. “A mother to others, a judge to myself.” Obedience was the only limit to his penance and mortification, and in his intense desire to imitate his crucified Lord, he actually wrung from his confessor permission for penances which seem to us beyond the powers of mortal endurance.

We are told that “there was kept in the Novitiate of Mechlin, part of a rough and prickly hair -shirt, which he usually wore, and cloths with which he had staunched the blood his scourgings made to flow. During the keen frosts of a Flemish winter he hardly ever went near a fire, though his hands and ears were cruelly chapped by the cold.”

“My penance above all others,” he used to say, “is common life. May I die rather than violate deliberately the smallest order ar rule. I would rather lose my health altogether than not keep a rule in “order. to preserve it.” Again he says:

“Rather die than for health’s sake break a single rule.”

HIS HUMILITY

OUR SAINT, as we have already seen, regarded humility as the foundation of all perfection. Hence, he loved and sought .everything that could foster and strengthen the growth of this virtue in his soul-the lowest and most menial offices, the poorest clothes, reproofs, corrections. He repeatedly begged that his faults might be “known publicly. At last his request was granted, and , Father Banters tells us: “I told all the novices, then more than one hundred, to jot down and give me in writing any defects they had noticed in Berchmans” conduct. I got these notes, and on opening them found that not one had been able to observe the smallest defect in him.” Truly, a marvellous testimony to John’s holiness of life. John’s confessor encouraged the Saint in his love for humiliations and his great desire to be looked upon both by God and man, as nothing. In this way he prepared himself for the close union with God which he continually enjoyed.

HIS LOVE OF THE BLESSED SACRAMENT

HOW CAN we describe the love of this pure heart for Jesus in the Adorable Sacrament of the Altar? Seven times a day, at least, he visited the Prisoner of Love in His Tabernacle, and he always paid a last visit just before retiring to rest. “This practice, initiated by the Saint, is still observed in many houses of his Order.

HIS MOTHER”S DEATH

TWO MONTHS after the Saint’s entrance into religion, his mother’s long life of suffering came to an end. She died on 1st December, 1616. After her death Charles Berchmans resolved to devote the remainder of his life wholly to God. He seems at first to have had a great desire to enter the Society of Jesus; but, doubtless, his advanced age prevented the realisation of his wish. On the 14th April, 1618, he was ordained priest and, as a mark of his fellowcitizens” esteem, was made Canon in the church of St. Sulpice, where the Saint was baptised.

Charles, the Saint’s youngest and favourite brother, entered the Society of Jesus four years after John’s death, and lived to a ripe old age, dying in the odour of sanctity. Adrian, the second son, also became a religious of the Augustinian Order. He, too, died a saintly death, following John into eternal life nine years later.

FIRST VOWS

ON THE 25th September, 1618, John made his first vows, and. a few days later he received orders to go to Antwerp to enter on his course of philosophy. The College of the Society at Antwerp, where our Saint resided for two months, is now a military hospital.

At Antwerp, as wherever he went, John made the same deep and lasting impression of profound holiness on all who, came in contact with him. The Superior of the House afterwards declared on oath, in 1622, that “he, as well as many others, having only known Berchmans during those few days, regarded him as a fervent Jesuit, a perfect servant of God, a real saint.”

On the 18th of October the joyful news was communicated to the Saint that his Superiors had decided to send him to Rome.for his philosophical and theological studies. His. departure was fixed for the following Monday and, with his superiors” permission, he wrote to his father asking him to meet him at Mechlin on the 20th, to say farewell. When John reached Mechlin, the news awaited him that his father had been already dead a week. It was a great blow, but John was a saint, and to saints all that comes from the hand of God is sweet and welcome. When told the sad news, he raised his eyes to heaven and exclaimed, in the words of St. Francis of Assisi: “Then, I can henceforth really say, “Our Father, Who art in Heaven.””

HIS NOVICEMASTER”S TESTIMONY

FATHER BAUTERS, the novicemaster at Mechlin, writing of the Saint after his death: “During the whole time he lived in the Society in Belgium he was a striking and, as far as nature allows, a perfect model of religious observance, a mirror of regularity. . . . All of us who had the happiness, to live with him, have been but of one opinion on that subject. He led in our midst a truly angelic life by the great innocence of his heart, the modesty of his behaviour, his wondrous courtesy and gentlemanly manner, his peaceful way of acting, his perseverance in all good he undertook, his perfect and prompt obedience, his rare prudence on every subject, the fervour displayed in all he did, without ever losing sight for a single moment of the presence of God, like the angelic spirits who, walk ever in His sight. . . . He has made him a saint. He has crowned him with a crown of glory.”

ARRIVAL IN ROME

ON THE last day of the year 1618, John and the young scholastic, Bartholomew Penneman, who accompanied him, entered the House of the Gesu, after a long and weary journey from Antwerp. They were received with fatherly kindness by Father Vitelleschi, the sixth General of the Society of Jesus. A few days later the new arrivals went to their future home, the Roman College, situated close by. The Rector of the College was then Father Cepari, who afterwards wrote the Saint’s life, as he did also that of St. Aloysius.

LIFE IN THE ROMAN COLLEGE

OUR SAINT”S time on earth was drawing to a close. But three short years remained to him before exchanging earth for heaven. How rich those years in every fruit of sanctity and virtue! We have seen our Saint in his childhood’s home, in the Novitiate at Mechlin, ever growing in holiness, ever spreading around him the sweetest perfume of spotless innocence and purity. His various confessors, from Father Emmerick of Diest .to Father Cepari, who received his last sigh, all declared that John had nevet lost baptismal innocence. Let us listen to Father Cepari as he describes the Saint during those last years of life in the Roman College.

FATHER CEPARI”S TESTIMONY

“JOHN”S PERFECTION was so great that it extended not merely, to one or two virtues, but to all, and to each virtue in particular. This is a thing so unusual as to astound anyone who understands what it means to be full of the virtues which are called those of “purified souls,” which St. Thomas rightly teaches are not to “be found but with the blessed in Heaven and a few most perfect souls on earth. This is what we all admired in him, that in every virtue he showed himself to be perfect . . . He used, of his own accord, twice every month, to give me, as his superior and father, an account of his conscience . . . his every thought, feeling, and wish. I remember once while he was telling me what God was doing for him . . . and how he was corresponding with these graces, I was quite overcome, and I said to myself: “O happy youth in whose soul God is so well pleased! O blessed child, to whom God has given a privilege like that gift of grace and original justice which He conferred upon Adam”! . . . In our eyes, he was so consummately exact and faultless that no one has ever been found who could say that he had remarked in John the smallest moral fault, or observed even a little imperfection in what he did.”

FURTHER TESTIMONY TO JOHN”S SANCTITY

FATHER JOHN BAPTIST Ceccotti was confessor and spiritual Father to the juniors during John’s time in the Roman College. “I can say with truth,” he declares, “as regards the inner life of John that I have never found a soul of greater purity and spotlessness than his . . . His brethren loved and revered him as an angel from heaven . . . I cannot find words to express the idea I have of the .angelic purity and innocence of so spotless a religious. . . . I firmly believe that on his blessed soul leaving his body it went forth so cleansed and spotless that it flew straight .up to Heaven without touching Purgatory.”

LAST ILLNESS AND DEATH

WOULD THAT we could trace at greater length the life of this angel on earth. Space forbids us to linger, but enough has been said to convey some idea of St. John Berchman’s wondrous sanctity.

“On Friday, 13th of August, 1621, with his eyes fixed on the crucifix, clasping in his hands his beads and rule-book, and pronouncing the sacred names of Jesus and Mary, his pilgrimage came to a happy close, and he gave back in peace his blessed soul into the hands of his Creator, leaving us all edified by his innocent and holy life, and consoled by so :precious a death” (Father Cepari).

Our Saint was seized with illness on the 5th of August. At first no fatal results were apprehended, but the Saint himself seemed to have received some interior warning that the end was near.

MIRACLES

THE PRECIOUS remains of St. John Berchmans were placed in a wooden coffin, which was laid in a new vault of the Chapel .of St. Aloysius. While his angelic body still lay awaiting “burial, God was pleased by a striking miracle to bear testimony to John’s great sanctity. A lady, Catherine de Reccenati, sixty-eight years of age, for three months before the Saint’s death had been affected by almost total blindness. At her request she was taken to the bier on which the holy remains lay. Father Aloysius Spinola, who was present, “told her to take one of the fingers of John, and with it to touch her eyes. She did so, and immediately cried out, “I am cured; I can see.” Again she applied the finger and recovered her sight immediately.”

Many other striking miracles are recorded which were worked through the Saint’s intercession, but we can only give the above.

PORTRAIT OF THE SAINT

FATHER CEPARI draws for us the portrait of the Saint: “John was of fair height, of a ruddy complexion, and excellent temperament, and by no means thin. His face was really angelic, pink and white, his forehead broad, his eyebrows so thick that they seemed to be black, and the same might be said of his eyelashes. His eyes were bright and lively, but bashful and full of goodness and sweetness, and ever downcast. His nose was regular and slightly aquiline, his lips small and ruddy. There was always a modest smile playing about them. His hair was light . . . His hands were always quiet and composed upon his breast. His walk was neither slow nor hurried, but moderate and grave. His whole carriage was so modest as to strike all who met him . . . People would stand still to gaze at him and enjoy the spectacle of so rare a model of modesty. To sum up all, we may say that to a, pure and beautiful soul God gave a beautiful body to match, and that his outward look was an image of his mind, a form of justice, as St. Ambrose wrote of Mary ever a Virgin” (Father Cepari, Rector, of the Roman College). ,

BEATIFICATION AND CANONIZATION

ON THE 28th of May, 1865, during the Pontificate of Pius IX, the Decree of Beatification was solemnly pronounced in St. Peter’s. On 22nd of January, 1888, Pope Leo XIII issued the Bull of Canonization.

The Saint’s precious relics now repose in a magnificent tomb in the church of St. Ignatius. Amongst the Saint’s papers was found a vow, written partly in his blood, by which he bound himself to defend Our Lady’s Immaculate Conception,

PRAYER TO ST. JOHN BERCHMANS

O LILY of purity, and model of the most exact obedience, St. John Berchmans! we choose thee for our special Patron, and we entreat of thee to obtain for us from Jesus and Mary, that by carefully guarding our senses, and by the faithful discharge of our several duties, we may jealously watch over and preserve the beautiful flower of purity. Inspire us with a very tender devotion, such as thou didst cherish, towards the Queen of Virgins, and the angelic youth Aloysius, whom thou so well knewest how to copy in thyself; and obtain for us that detached from every earthly thing, we may, with our whole strength, love Jesus and Mary, so that, enclosed in their hearts during life, we may come to love them, and rejoice with them in thy company for all eternity in Heaven. Amen.

V. Pray for us, St. John.

R. That we may be made worthy of the promises of Christ.

LET US PRAY

O God, who didst bestow on St. John wonderful holiness, by the perfect observance of regular discipline and singular innocence of life, grant by his merits and prayers that, keeping faithfully all the Commandments of Thy law, we may secure for ourselves purity of soul and body; through Jesus Christ, Our Lord. Amen.

THE SODALITY OF SAINT JOHN BERCHMANS FOR ALTAR SERVERS A TOWN may have several notable buildings, some distinguished by their architecture or by the treasures which they enshrine, others by their associations with the past and the memories they arouse. In every town or village, however, there is one building which stands apart on a plane by itself. Other buildings may be architecturally finer, may have involved a greater expenditure of money in their erection, but this building stands apart as one requiring esteem-and veneration all its own. This building is the church, the House of God.

What a wonderful place for a Catholic is his church or chapel. In it is the Font where he was baptised and became a child of God. At its Altar Rails he received the “Bread of Life for the first time and continues to receive it constantly as the Spiritual Food of his soul

From its pulpit he hears the Word of God, and in its Confessional he listens to the sentence of pardon which reconciles him to his Creator after he has offended Him by sin. On its Altar is renewed the Sacrifice of Calvary, the Clean Oblation which is offered up to God from the rising to the setting of the sun. Above all, it is in the church that dwells, in a special manner, Christ his Saviour Who from the Tabernacle invites him to come for comfort when be is troubled and disturbed by the cares and worries of life. “Come to Me all you that labour and are burdened and I will refresh you”

How great, therefore, should be our reverence and decorum is that House of God! With what care and respect should we not comport ourselves in this holy place where we are, in a very real sense, under the very Eye of God! Above all, if we are privileged to take part in the ceremonies in God’s House, to perform on earth those offices which the Angels fulfil before the Throne of God in Heaven, what should be our modesty and reverence to show by our whole bearing that we are conscious of this great privilege.

To impress upon those who are thus privileged to serve at the Altar of God the dignity and holiness of their work and to enable, them to carry out their duties with all .possible solemnity and reverence is the object of the Sodality of Saint John Berchmans.

This Sodality was founded by Father Vincent Bastile, S.J., who presented a Petition to His Holiness, Pius IX that it be approved and enriched by special privileges and indulgences.

In an audience granted on 21st September, 1865, Pope Pius IX gave his approval to the Sodality and granted the following Indulgences, applicable to the Holy Souls:

A Plenary Indulgence on the day of admission to the .Sodality, and also on the Feast of Saint John Berchmans, 26th November, on the usual conditions.

A Plenary Indulgence on each of the five Sundays that precede the Feast of Saint John Berchmans, in remembrance of the five years which he spent in the religious life.

An Indulgence of 100 days for each time a Sodalist serves Mass, or makes a genuflection with due reverence in the church, or behaves himself with religious modesty therein.

An indulgence of seven years to such Sodalists as shall recite the five prayers in honour of Saint John Berchmans.

In addition the Holy Father granted that this Sodality can be established in any place, by any priest, secular or religious, with the approbation of the Ordinary.

Nihil Obstat:

Carolus Doyle, S.J.

Censor Theol. Deput.

Impriimi Potest:

@ EDUARDUS,

Archiep. Dublinen., Hiberniae Primes, Dublini, die 25° Octobris 1935.

********

The Little office of The Immaculate Conception of The Blessed Virgin Mary

INDEX

POPE PIUS IX., BY BRIEF OF MARCH 31, 1876, GRANTED TO THE FAITHFUL WHO RECITE DEVOUTLY AND WITH A CONTRITE HEART, THE LITTLE OFFICE OF THE IMMACULATE CONCEPTION AN INDULGENCE OF 300 DAYS EACH TIME

AT MATINS

Come, my lips, and wide proclaim

The blessed Virgin’s spotless fame.

V. O Lady, make speed to befriend me.

R. From the hands of the enemy mightily defend me.

V. Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Ghost.

R. As it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be, world without end.-Amen.

Alleluia.

From Septuagesima to Easter, instead of Alleluia, is said:

PRAISE BE TO THEE, O LORD, KING OF EVERLASTING GLORY

HYMN

Hail, Queen of the heaven: Hail, mistress of earth! Hail, Virgin most pure, Of immaculate birth!

Clear star of the morning, In beauty enshrin’d!

O Lady, make speed To the help of mankind.

Thee God in the depth Of eternity chose:

And form’d thee all fair As His glorious spouse;

And call’d thee His word’s Own Mother to be,

By whom He created

The earth, sky, and sea. Amen.

V. God elected her, and pre-elected her. R. He made her to dwell in His tabernacle. V. O Lady, hear my prayer.

R. And let my cry come unto thee.

Let Us Pray.

Holy Mary, Queen of heaven, mother of our Lord Jesus Christ, and Mistress of the world, who forsakest no one, and despisest no one; look upon me, O Lady, with an eye of pity, and entreat for me, of thy beloved Son, the forgiveness of all my sins; that as I now celebrate with devout affection thy holy and Immaculate Conception, so, hereafter, I may receive the prize of eternal blessedness by the grace of Him whom thou, in virginity, didst bring forth, Jesus Christ our Lord; Who, with the Father and the Holy Ghost liveth and reigneth in perfect Trinity, God, world without end.-Amen.

V. O Lady, hear my prayer.

R. And let my cry come unto thee.

V. Let us bless the Lord.

R. Thanks be to God.

V. May the souls of the faithful departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace. R. Amen.

AT PRIME

V. O Lady, make speed to befriend me.

R. From the hands of the enemy mightily defend me.

V. Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Ghost.

R. As it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be, world without end. Amen. Alleluia.

From Septuagesima to Easter, instead of Alleluia, is said:

PRAISE BE TO THEE, O LORD, KING OF EVERLASTING GLORY

HYMN

Hail, Virgin most wise! Hail, Deity’s shrine! With seven fair pillars, And table divine.

Preserv’d from the guilt Which hath come on us all, Exempt, in the womb, From the taint of the Fall!

O new star of Jacob! Of Angels the Queen! O gate of the Saints! O mother of men!

O terrible as

The embattled array! Be thou of the faithful The refuge and stay. Amen.

V. The Lord Himself created her in the Holy Ghost. R. And poured her out among all his works. V. O Lady, hear my prayer.

R. And let my cry come unto thee.

Let Us Pray.

Holy Mary, Queen of heaven, Mother of our Lord Jesus Christ and Mistress of the world, who forsakest no one, and despisest no one; look upon me, O Lady, with an eye of pity, and entreat for me, of thy beloved Son, the forgiveness of all my sins; that as I now celebrate with devout affection thy holy and Immaculate Conception, so, hereafter, I may receive the prize of eternal blessedness, by the grace of Him whom thou, in virginity, didst bring forth, Jesus Christ our Lord, Who, with the Father, and the Holy Ghost, liveth and reigneth, in perfect Trinity, God, world without end.-Amen.

V. O Lady, hear my prayer.

R. And let my cry come unto thee.

V. Let us bless the Lord.

R. Thanks be to God.

V. May the souls of the faithful departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace. R. Amen.

AT TIERCE

V. O Lady, make speed to befriend me.

R. From the hands of the enemy mightily defend me.

V. Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Ghost.

R. As it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be; world without end.-Amen. Alleluia.

From Septuagesima to Easter, instead of Alleluia, is said:

PRAISE BE TO THEE, O LORD, KING OF EVERLASTING GLORY

HYMN

Hail, Solomon’s throne! Pure ark of the law!

Fair rainbow! and bush, Which the Patriarch saw. Hail, Gedeon’s fleece!

Hail, blossoming rod!

Samson’s sweet honeycomb! Portal of God!

Well fitting it was,

That a Son so divine,

Should preserve from all touch Or original sin;

Nor suffer by smallest

Defect to be stain’d,

That Mother, whom He

For Himself had ordain’d. Amen.

V. I dwell in the highest.

R. And my throne is on the pillar of the cloud. V. O Lady hear my prayer.

R. And let my cry come unto thee.

Let Us Pray.

Holy Mary, Queen of heaven, Mother of our Lord Jesus Christ, and Mistress of the world, who forsakest no one, and despisest no one; look upon me, O Lady, with an eye of pity, and entreat for me, of thy be-loved Son, the forgiveness of all my sins; that as I now celebrate with devout affection thy holy and Immaculate Conception, so, hereafter, I may receive the prize of eternal blessedness, by the grace of Him whom thou, in virginity, didst bring forth, Jesus Christ our Lord, Who with the Father and the Holy Ghost liveth and reigneth, in perfect Trinity, God, world without end.-Amen.

V. O Lady, hear my prayer.

R. And let my cry come unto thee.

V. Let us bless the Lord.

R. Thanks be to God.

V. May the souls of the faithful departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace. R. Amen.

AT SEXT

V. O Lady, make speed to befriend me.

R. From the hands of the enemy mightily defend me.

V. Glory be to the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost.

R. As it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be, world without end. Amen. Alleluia.

From Septuagesima to Easter, instead of Alleluia, is said:

PRAISE BE TO THEE, O LORD, KING OF EVERLASTING GLORY

HYMN

Hail, virginal Mother!

Hail, purity’s cell!

Fair shrine where the Trinity Loveth to dwell!

Hail, garden of pleasure! Celestial balm!

Cedar of chastity!

Martyrdom’s palm!

Thou land set apart From uses profane! And free from the curse Which in Adam began!

Thou city of God!

Thou gate of the east! In thee is all grace,

O joy of the blest! Amen.

V. As the lily among the thorns.

R. So is my beloved among the daughters of Adam. V. O Lady, hear my prayer.

R. And let my cry come unto thee.

Let Us Pray.

Holy Mary, Queen of heaven, Mother of our Lord Jesus Christ, and Mistress of the world, who forsakest no one, and despisest no one; look upon me, O Lady, with an eye of pity, and entreat for me, of thy beloved Son, the forgiveness of all my sins; that as I now celebrate with devout affection thy holy and Immaculate Conception, so, hereafter, I may receive the prize of eternal blessedness, by the grace of Him whom thou, in virginity, didst bring forth, Jesus Christ our Lord: Who, with the Father and the Holy Ghost liveth and reigneth, in perfect Trinity, God, world without end.-Amen.

V. O Lady, hear my prayer.

R. And let my cry come unto thee.

V. Let us bless the Lord.

R. Thanks be to God.

V. May the souls of the faithful departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace.

R. Amen.

AT NONE

V. O Lady, make speed to befriend me.

R. From the hands of the enemy mightily defend me.

V. Glory be to the Father, and to the son, and to the Holy Ghost.

R. As it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be, world without end.-Amen. Alleluia.

From Septuagesima to Easter, instead of Alleluia, is said:

PRAISE BE TO THEE, O LORD, KING OF EVERLASTING GLORY

HYMN

Hail city of refuge!

Hail, David’s high tower! With battlements crown’d And girded with power!

Fill’d at thy Conception With love and with light, The dragon by thee

Was shorn of his might.

O woman most valiant! O Judith thrice blest! As David was nurs’d In fair Abisag’s breast.

As the saviour of Egypt

Upon Rachel’s knee;

So the world’s great Redeemer Was cherish’d by thee. Amen.

V. Thou art all fair, my beloved.

R. And the original stain was never in thee. V. O Lady, hear my prayer. R. And let my cry come unto thee.

Let Us Pray.

Holy Mary, Queen of heaven, Mother of our Lord Jesus Christ, and Mistress of the world, who forsakest no one, and despisest no one; look upon me, O Lady, with an eye of pity, and entreat for me, of thy beloved Son, the forgiveness of all my sins, that as I now celebrate with devout affection they holy and Immaculate Conception, so, hereafter, I may receive the prize of eternal blessedness, by the grace of Him whom thou, in virginity, didst bring forth Jesus Christ our Lord; Who, with the Father and the Holy Ghost liveth and reigneth, in perfect Trinity, God, world without end.-Amen.

V. O Lady, hear my prayer.

R. And let my cry come unto thee.

V. Let us bless the Lord.

R. Thanks be to God.

V. May the souls of the faithful departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace.

R. Amen.

AT VESPERS

V. O Lady, make speed to befriend me.

R. From the hands of the enemy mightily defend me.

V. Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Ghost.

R. As it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be, world without end.-Amen.

Alleluia.

FROM SEPTUAGESIMA TO EASTER, INSTEAD OF ALLELUIA, IS SAID: PRAISE BE TO THEE, O LORD, KING OF EVERLASTING GLORY

HYMN

Hail, dial of Achaz!

On thee the true sun

Told backward the course Which from old he had run.

And that man might be rais’d. Submitting to shame,

A little more low

Than the Angels became.

Thou, wrapt in the blaze Of His infinite light, Dost shine as the morn On the confines of night.

As the moon on the lost Through obscurity dawns: The serpent’s destroyer! A lily ‘mid thorns! Amen. V. I made an unfailing light to arise in heaven. R. And, as a mist, I overspread the whole earth. V. O Lady, hear my prayer.

R. And let my cry come unto thee.

Let Us Pray.

Holy Mary, Queen of heaven, Mother of our Lord Jesus Christ, and Mistress of the world, who forsakest no one, and despisest no one; look upon me, O Lady, with an eye of pity, and entreat for me, of thy beloved Son, the forgiveness of all my sins; that as I now celebrate with devout affection thy holy and Immaculate Conception, so, hereafter, I may receive the prize of eternal blessedness, by the grace of Him whom thou, in virginity, didst bring forth, Jesus Christ our Lord; Who, with the Father and the Holy Ghost liveth and reigneth, in perfect Trinity, God, world without end.-Amen.

V. O Lady, hear my prayer.

R. And let my cry come unto thee.

V. Let us bless the Lord.

R. Thanks be to God.

V. May the souls of the faithful departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace. R. Amen.

AT COMPLINE

V. May Jesus Christ thy Son, reconciled by thy prayers, O Lady, convert our hearts. R. And turn away His anger from us.

V. O Lady, make speed to befriend me.

R. From the hands of the enemy mightily defend me.

V. Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Ghost.

R. As it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be, world without end.-Amen. Alleluia.

From Septuagesima to Easter, instead of Alleluia, is said:

PRAISE BE TO THEE, O LORD, KING OF EVERLASTING GLORY

HYMN

Hail, Mother most pure! Hail, Virgin renown’d! Hail, Queen with the stars As a diadem crowned.

Above all the Angels In glory untold,

Standing next to the King In a vesture of gold!

O Mother of Mercy! O star of the wave! O hope of the guilty! O light of the grave!

Through thee may we come To the haven of rest;

And see heaven’s King In the courts of the blest! Amen.

V. Thy name, O Mary, is as oil poured out. R. Thy servants have loved thee exceedingly. V. O Lady, hear my prayer.

R. And let my cry come unto thee.

Let Us Pray.

Holy Mary, Queen of heaven, Mother of our Lord Jesus Christ and Mistress of the world, who forsakest no one, and despisest no one; look upon me, O Lady, with an eye of pity, and entreat for me, of thy beloved Son, the forgiveness of all my sins; that as I now celebrate with devout affection thy holy and Immaculate Conception, so, hereafter, I may receive the prize of eternal blessedness, by the grace of Him whom thou, in virginity, didst bring forth Jesus Christ our Lord; Who, with the Father and the Holy Ghost liveth and reigneth, in perfect Trinity, God, world without end.-Amen.

V. O Lady, hear my prayer.

R. And let my cry come unto thee.

V. Let us bless the Lord.

R. Thanks be to God.

V. May the souls of the faithful departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace. R. Amen.

THE COMMENDATION. THESE PRAISES AND PRAYERS I LAY AT THY FEET,

O Virgin of Virgins!

O Mary most sweet!

Be thou my true guide

Through this pilgrimage here; And stand by my side

When death draweth near. R. Thanks be to God.

Ant. This is the rod, wherein was neither the knot of original sin, nor the bark of actual sin.

V. In thy Conception, O Virgin, thou wast immaculate.

R. Pray for us to the Father, whose Son thou didst bear.

Let Us Pray

O God, Why by the Immaculate Conception of a Virgin didst make ready a meet dwelling for Thy Son, we beseech

Thee that Thou, who, foreseeing the death of that same Son of Thine, didst keep her free from all stain, mayest suffer us also, with clean hearts through her pleading, to come unto Thee. Through the same Christ our Lord. R. Amen.

Nihil Obstat:

H. McDERMOTT, D.D. Censor Deputatus.

Imprimi Potest:

@ MICHAEL

A. Epus. Sydneyen. 3rd Dec., 1921.

********

The Liturgy And Parish Life

REV. DR. PERCY JONES

INDEX

This pamphlet was originally written to be read as a paper during the National Eucharistic Congress held in Sydney from April 12th-19th, 1953. On Thursday afternoon, April 16th, one of the Official sessions of the Congress was held at Manly College and was devoted to commemorating the fiftieth anniversary of the issuing of the Motu Proprio on Sacred Music by St. Pius X. Although the actual anniversary is later in the year (November 22nd), it was felt that such an important national Eucharistic gathering should not pass without some tribute being paid to the work of the “Pope of the Eucharist.” The session was presided over by His Lordship, the Most Reverend Dr. E. J. Doody, Bishop of Armidale, and was honoured in a particular way by a distinguished commentary on the paper by His Excellency the Apostolic Delegate, the Most Reverend Dr. Paul Marella. The paper itself aroused so much comment and interest that, in reply to very many requests, more especially by the National Conference of Diocesan Inspectors of Schools, it has been decided to publish the paper as it stands. For the sake of completeness, an appendix giving a translation of the canons of the Australian Plenary Synod of 1937 referring to Sacred Music, has been added, setting a seal, if such were needed, on the remarks proffered in the paper.

PERCY JONES

PART I. -POPE PIUS X AND THE LITURGY

On Sunday next, April 19th, we in Australia commemorate the 150th Anniversary of the first official permission, given by Governor King, to celebrate Mass in this country. That anniversary has inspired the holding of this National Eucharistic Congress to which prelates, priests and laity from every corner of the continent, and indeed from many countries overseas, have come to share our joy on this occasion. In recent years a Eucharistic Congress has become the normal expression of important commemorations; it would therefore seem fitting that during these celebrations some tribute be paid to the Supreme Pontiff to whom under God we owe, more than anyone else, the revival of Eucharistic Life in the Church- to Blessed Pius X of Holy memory.

POPE OF THE EUCHARIST

Last year, the shadows which hang over the Church Militant were for a brief moment forgotten, when the whole Christian family rejoiced at the Beatification of him who has rightly been styled the Pope of the Eucharist. Please God that same family will not have to wait too many years before celebrating his canonization. Certainly no one has been raised to the altar in this century who has had such a profound influence on the life of the Church and of the millions of the faithful.

In August fifty years ago, Joseph Sarto was elected Pope. The worldly-wise shook their heads. In such obviously difficult times, the election of an apparently undistinguished Italian prelate, the son of very poor parents reared in an obscure district of northern Italy and with small experience of the world and its politics, seemed little short of a disaster. He was such a contrast to the aristocratic Leo XIII. Prior to the conclave, one French Cardinal remarked to him that he was not even eligible, since he knew no French. He himself viewed with dismay during the conclave the gradually mounting votes in his favour.

Yet, looking back over this twentieth century, it is now crystal clear that in his election, the Holy Spirit had raised up a successor to St. Peter who would personally lead a reformation of Church life such as had never been witnessed in the Church before. His name-sake predecessor, St. Pius V, had guided the Church during a previous upheaval and renaissance, but he had men of the stamp of St. Robert Bellarmine to urge the reform. Pius X reformed the Church almost single-handed. Certainly he led the way and, if he had the invaluable assistance of men like Cardinal Merry del Val and others as his advisers, it was from his leadership that they drew their inspiration. His pontificate was in the main the implementing of reforms which he realized necessary from his own experience as a seminarist, a curate, a parish priest and a bishop. His rule was not that of a head of a government but that of a pastor of souls. His very motto “To restore all things in Christ” summarized his achievement as well as his intentions.

There is not a single aspect of Church life, as we know it today that does not bear the imprint of his personal direction. It was to him we owe the Code of Canon Law in force today; it is to him we owe the initial steps in Catholic Action; it is to him we owe the defeat of perhaps the most insidious heresy in the Church- Modernism. If today we are part of a family in which millions of its members are vitally aware of their faith and are courageously living that faith amid increasing secularization, paganism and persecution, it is because Blessed Pius X, a man of prayer and a true shepherd, led his flock back to the true pastures of the sacramental life which its Divine Founder had left as their daily food and nourishment.

TO RESTORE ALL THINGS IN CHRIST

Pius X had been too long a priest working in parish not to realize what had been missing in parochial life. With the highly individualistic approach of the seventeenth, eighteenth and nineteenth centuries to religion and .God, he had seen Catholics regarding prayer as a mere private matter between an individual and his God. He had seen the damage wrought by the exaggerated pietism of the Jansenists and of their opponents whose only solution seemed to have been to offer one form of individualistic piety to offset the other; he had seen the damage that this unsacramental life had done to the Church- the Mass, Holy Communion unfrequented- altogether a family starved of its food- a family lacking vitamins and therefore lacking vitality. Worse still, he had seen a clergy equally ignorant of this primary source of the Spiritual life- a clergy side-tracked into providing spiritual trivialities and non-essentials, helpless before the tide of socialism, and themselves relying on their own resources for their life of prayer.

The answer of Pius X to this state of affairs was clear- reform the Breviary, so that the Clergy have a balanced form of prayer; frequent and early Communion, so that the faithful receive constantly, even daily, and from early childhood, the chief food of their soul- the Bread of Angels—Christ Himself. He realized that, with such Divine nourishment, the vitality of the Church would return and prevail. So it has proved. The missionary activity of this century, the rise and growth of a holy and apostolic laity and the universal loyalty of the faithful to the See of Peter, which have been such striking phenomena of this twentieth century, must be traced back to the call of Pius X to restore all things in Christ by a return to the sacramental life of the Church.

TO THE GREATER GLORY OF GOD

His work did not cease there- in fact it did not begin there. With the intuitive eye of a saint. he saw the deep, underlying misunderstanding which was the cause of the spiritual inertia. It was that the sacraments—even the Mass itself- were only appreciated for the good they produced in the individual soul. The fundamental basis of all religion. namely the worship and glory of God, was obscured or forgotten. The churches had become shabby: the ornaments, the paintings and the statuary had become shoddy: and the music, if it existed at all, had degenerated into a concert to tickle the ears and satisfy the emotions of the listeners. All these externals were but the expression of the petty, shabby minds of the people-they were the indication of a tragic lack of realization of what the worship of .God demanded. The mind of sacrifice-”the mind that was in Christ Jesus” was absent -people prayed for what they could get out of it.

How was he to bring the people of God to realize their position before their Creator? How was he to bring it home to them that they were a royal priesthood, a chosen people, a privileged family- brothers of Christ under the fatherhood of God? How was he to make them realize their solidarity- their common bonds which would be the strength of the Church in the ensuing decades? On the surface his reply seemed to be so futile as to merit scorn. Whether merited or not, it met with scorn and continues to meet with scorn.

THE L,ITURGY. THE PRIMARY AND INDISPENSABLE SOURCE OF CHRISTIAN LIFE

After his first Encyclical in October, 1903. in which he outlined his policy of restoring all things in Christ, the first document he issued to the Universal Church was the Motu Proprio of November 22nd, 1903, on Sacred Music. Well might the churchmen and the laity of the Church, reared in the cultural backwaters of nineteenth century romanticism and liberalism, look askance at the announcement of a Papal document on music and a Motu Proprio at that- “on his own volition.” Yet the opening sentences of that masterly decree showed immediately that Blessed Pius X had put his finger on the core of the disease:

“Among the cares of the pastoral office. not only of this Supreme Chair, which We, though unworthy, occupy through the inscrutable disposition of Providence, but of every local church, a leading one is without question that of maintaining and promoting the decorum of the House of God, in which the august mysteries of religion are celebrated and where the Christian people assemble to receive the grace of the Sacraments, to assist at the Holy Sacrifice of the altar, to adore the most august Sacrament of the Lord’s Body and to unite in the common prayer of the Church in the public and solemn liturgical offices. Nothing should have place, therefore, in the temple, calculated to disturb or even merely to diminish the piety and devotion of the faithful, nothing that may give reasonable cause for disgust or scandal, nothing, above all, which directly offends the decorum and the sanctity of the sacred functions and is thus unworthy of the House of Prayer and of the Majesty of God. We do not touch separately on the abuses in this matter which may arise. To-day our attention is directed to one of the most common of them, one of the most difficult to eradicate, and the existence of which is sometimes to be deplored in places where everything else is deserving of the highest praise-the beauty and sumptuousness of the temple, the splendour and the accurate performances of the ceremonies, the attendance of the clergy, the gravity and piety of the officiating ministers. Such is the abuse affecting sacred chant and music. . . . Filled as We are with a most ardent desire to see the true Christian spirit flourish in every respect and be preserved by all the faithful, We deem it necessary to provide before aught else for the sanctity and dignity of the temple, in which the faithful assemble for no other object than that of acquiring this spirit from its foremost and indispensable fount, which is the active participation in the most holy mysteries and in the public and solemn prayer of the Church. And it is vain to hope that the blessing of Heaven will descend abundantly upon us when our homage to the Most High, instead of ascending in the odour of sweetness. puts into the hand of the Lord the scourges wherewith of old the Divine Redeemer drove the unworthy profaners from the Temple.”

Here was the Pope’s remedy for the malady-the primary and indispensable source at which the true Christian spirit is acquired is the active participation in the sacred mysteries and in the liturgy of the Church. Surely nothing could be clearer than this. Yet fifty years after he had penned these words, we look around to find in many places the same ignorance, antipathy and indifference with Pius X deplored. Pius himself had no doubt in his mind. As a young seminarist he had learnt the power and beauty of the Church’s music, as a young priest. and as a parish priest he had proved over and over again the vital part it played in a true parochial life, and as a Bishop he saw the need to draw people back to God by love and the deepest expression of love-music. Here was a holy priest speaking out of the abundance of his heart and his experience. not as a mere aesthete or unpractical dreamer.

THE REFORM IN ACTION

Throughout his Pontificate Pius X pursued this ideal of active participation in the liturgy. He ordered the return to the pristine melodies of the chant-”Revertimini ad fontes” he said, in setting up the Commission for the restoration of the Gregorian Melodies. He reformed the Breviary: he encouraged frequent and early Communion in every way: providing an example in the Papal ceremonies in the Sistine Chapel and in St. Peter’s, he set out to draw people to express their love of God in the traditional chants of the Church. Here was the love song of Christ’s Bride held in esteem again.

That love-song has continued despite opposition and indifference. It has been fostered by each succeeding Pope. Benedict XV gave the Pontifical Institute of Sacred Music its present building. Pius XI, on the occasion of the 25th anniversary of Motu Proprio, issued his Apostolic Constitution on the Liturgy and Sacred Music, in which he called for detailed instruction in Church music to be given in schools, colleges, and seminaries, and the constant use of the chant in ceremonies, so that the people no longer remain “detached and silent spectators.” Above all, nearly fifty years after Motu Proprio, Pope Pius XII, in two of the great Encyclicals of all time. “Mystici Corporis” and “Mediator Dei,” gave to the world a doctrinal and spiritual exposition of the Church’s life of prayer which set a final seal on the call of his predecessor to restore all things in Christ through an active participation in this vital sacramental life.

Never was the call of the Pastor of souls more timely. Amid the cross-currents of false philosophies, religions and politics, the Bark of Peter must steer a steady course. Before the waves of philosophical idealism, positivism and atheistic existentialism, the Church must remain the defender of objective truth: before the insidious attacks of modernism and indifferentism the Church must proclaim its belief in dogma: before the excesses of totalitarianism and aesthetic materialism the Church must stand erect as the Mystical Body of Christ, the real centre of the brotherhood of man.

DOCTRINE NOT SUFFICIENT

Truth is not sufficient for mankind today. Subject to so many specious onslaughts of false philosophers and tyrants, by a diabolical perversion of the printed word, so that today the cherished word “Propaganda” has become suspect and synonymous with deceit, men have come to distrust the rationalization of truth. With so much evil in the world- so much cruelty, men look for love and beauty. Even those, who know the truth, need something more to help them. Pope Pius XII has said: “There was perhaps never a time in the history of the Church, when people were so well instructed as they are today, yet there was perhaps never a time when men have witnessed so tragic a divorce between theory and practice.”

Why is that? It is because we have in a large measure relied on the power of the instructed word to convey truth. We have relied too much on knowledge of the discursive type. We stress so much that Christ is “The Truth,” that we forget that He is also “The Way and the Life.” We think, once we have indoctrinated the intellect by Catechism and Apologetics and shaped the Willby “character training,” that we have reached the soul of man. We have not. There is a world of difference between knowing a truth and realizing it. There is a world of difference between doing something out of a sense of duty and doing it out of love. Hence the tragic divorce between theory and practice.

BEAUTY OF DIVINE TRUTH LIVED AND EXPRESSED

Man is not merely a composite of rational intellect and will. There is a host of other elements that go to form his personality and, unless these other elements are nurtured and fostered, we cannot produce the integral Christian man. Truth cannot be cold truth. It must be resplendent. Morals cannot be the mere expression of duty. They must be the expression of love- of a vital soul pulsating with the life of sanctifying grace. It is for this reason that the Church calls upon the arts to adorn and present its truths. It calls on painting and statuary to stimulate the imagination and the memory; it calls on music to express its love, for as St. Augustine puts it:”Cantare amantis est”—“A lover must sing.” It is this expression in beauty of the truths of the faith that must attract the Catholic and the non-Catholic. Beauty is the splendour of truth. It is a shining forth, it is a theophany, it is a pean of love arising in the soul that contemplates the infinite perfection and love of God. Surely this is the purpose of our education and of our pastorate. And all this is provided for us in the liturgy of the Church. The liturgy is nothing but the beauty of divine truth lived and expressed by Christ and the members of His Mystical Body. It is the song and action of the Whole Christ worshipping and praising God, offering Him the ineffable Victim of Calvary and, with that Divine Victim, offering the minds and hearts and bodies of all those who are bound to Him in this bond of supernatural love. .

PART II.-APPLICATION TO AUSTRALIA

CONDITIONS IN AUSTRALIA

May we for a moment indulge in a cursory examination of conscience. What is the position here in Australia? Can it be said that here is a country in which the full vitality of the Church is expressed in its life of prayer? The answer is yes and no. If we take cognizance of the frequentation of the sacraments and of vast numbers of the faithful who unite themselves with the priest and with Christ in the Mass through following the words of the Holy Sacrifice in the Missal, and if we recognize the vast numbers who, this week, are paying special homage to our Eucharistic Lord, the answer is “Yes to some degree.” But if we seek for the very existence of, let alone the active participation of the faithful in the solemn ceremonies of the Church, we must honestly admit that, despite splendid efforts in a few places, there is much yet to be done. There are, of course, reasons for this state of affairs in the past.

CHANGE THE ACCENT

In a previous generation the accent in Church activity was on the school—schools had to be built; they had to be staffed; they had to be developed. In this generation the accent has moved to the Hall. All the various branches of the lay apostolate have absorbed so much of the priest’s time that little was left for what he considered the trimmings. Is it not time that the accent moved to the church itself? Is it not time that the priest should concentrate on the fullest observance of the priestly functions? It is surely an extraordinary mentality that can attend to details of football teams and not find time to encourage choirs and congregations to loin him in the sacrifice of perennial praise. Church music is not just a hobby: it is an integral part of the Church’s prayer. as Pius X clearly states. He himself set an example as a priest in training choirs wherever he was stationed. Every Pope of this century has set out the requirements of the Church in this matter as it affects dioceses, religious orders, seminaries, schools and confraternities. It is this life of the liturgy that is essential to a full Catholic faith. As Pius XI says in his Encyclical. “Quas Primas,” In fact the yearly celebration of the Holy Mysteries has far greater efficacy than all the weightiest documents of the ecclesiastical magisteriuin, to teach the people the things of faith and thereby to elevate them to the interior joys of life.”

What suggestions then can be made? It seems to me that remedies can be made on three levels—the parochial, the diocesan and the national level.

LITURGY IN THE PARISH

THE PARISH SCHOOL

Let us take the Parochial level first. After the family, the parish is the smallest unit in the Church’s organization and, if the priests are convinced, it does not take long for the people to react. They will respond. There are first of all the children in the schools. They are the mustard seed in the active liturgical life of the parish. They can be trained and, as they grow up, their training can be used in the confraternities and in the congregational singing. In the meantime, once they are able to sing a Mass, they should be provided with the opportunities in the Church, especially on important feasts in the Church. By important feasts I mean, not just Easter and Pentecost and other such, but also feasts of Corpus Christi, the Sacred Heart, Sts. Peter and Paul. and such feasts which fall on school days, when the whole school should celebrate the Church’s Feast.

Today, if a flag is flown from a boys’ school, it is often not to celebrate a church feast but a sporting event. The priest should do all in his power to bring the nuns and brothers into the life of parish worship. The religious orders should be made to realize that that is what they exist for fundamentally. Teaching secular subjects is only a necessary means. But to the thinking Catholic it is a matter of some surprise when, not infrequently, instances occur where a great deal of time is devoted to achieve pre-eminence in sport or in secular music, while little or no time can be found to prepare children for their parochial life of prayer. Indeed, there are some religious orders in which the religious are forbidden to conduct their own children when singing in the parish church.

THE PARISH CHURCH

As for the adults, the priest has at his service the sodalities and the confraternities which can be taught the Gregorian Chant melodies of the Mass. Then there is the parish choir to give the lead. But today it is true to say that most parish choirs do not exist or are in a poor state. Whose fault is that? It is at least to a large extent the priest’s fault. He rarely visits them or encourages them. He does not use his influence in the parish to recruit members and then wonders why the choir is poor.

To me the most important single reform that must be made is to change the sung Mass to an early hour. Times have changed and with the practice of frequent Communion all those willing to sing in a Church choir desire to receive Holy Communion each week. Now especially with the rule of water not breaking the fast, choristers can, without difficulty, sing while still fasting and the Sung Mass can be transferred to one of the early Masses. This could mean that each Confraternity could have a sung Mass- sung by the members themselves alternating with the choir, and the choir singing the Proper. The mention of the Proper raises one of the main difficulties of a sung Mass. Yet this is not a grave difficulty; the choir can sing the Proper texts on a Psalm tone or on bigger Feasts sing a simple melody such as those provided in the Blessed Pius X Hymnal which is published here in Australia. As for the text itself and its pronunciation, the priest can give some initial help, and the vocabulary is so comparatively small and the rules of pronunciation so invariable that a little practice will dispel this bogey.

PAROCHIAL CEREMONIES

One last word on parochial ceremonies. Any priest who treasures his priesthood should be anxious to try all the ceremonies attached to the sacramental and liturgical life of the Church, before falling back on personal preferences. Some priests are reminiscent of a certain type of non-Catholic who will try every form of religion before examining the claims of the Catholic Church. Some of us will try every type of private devotion rather than celebrate the Mass, offices and processions of the Church in their proper form. Too much attention is paid to the Catholic who looks on the Church as a place to go to obtain favours. Surely it is time we made the praise and worship of Almighty God top priority in our churches and offered Him our best, not our second-best or third-best.

DIALOGUE MASS

Where, for one reason or another, it is not possible to begin with the sung Mass, there is the Dialogue Mass, which has done a great deal in many parishes to make the congregation realize that it is their Sacrifice as well as ours. Indeed, it may be said that the Dialogue Mass is a necessity in the average Australian Parish where there are often three, four and sometimes five Masses each Sunday. If every Pope of this century has reiterated the voice of Pius X that “active participation in the most holy mysteries is the primary and indispensable source of the true Christian spirit,” then it must be admitted that ninety per cent, if not more, of Australian Catholics are denied easy access to this primary and indispensable source. It is true that a Catholic in using his missal is taking an active part in a certain measure, but it is clear from the context of Motu Proprio and subsequent Papal documents that this is not what the Popes meant. They meant and mean active external participation when, as Pius XI says, they are no longer “silent spectators.”

CATHOLICS ARE A SOCIETY

This generation has seen the rise of two perversions of the true concept of society, Totalitarianism and Communism. The answer to these is to make Catholics realize that they too are a society-a community and even more than that-a vital organism bound together and to Christ by the life-giving flow of faith and sanctifying grace. If we have been dilatory in presenting a common front to these caricatures of the doctrine of the Mystical Body of Christ, it is because we have not succeeded in welding Catholics together in their prayer. “Actio sequitur esse”—you may whip up a temporary enthusiasm for some particular action demanding a common front, but that is a passing enthusiasm. You have only to see the results in Trade Union elections to see how difficult it is to make Catholics think socially and it is simply because their prayer is not social. They are just so many individuals at Mass. It is not sufficient to tell them they are one in Christ- you have to make them live that truth. You may preach week-in and week-out that the Mass is their sacrifice and not merely the priest’s, but you have to make them “act” the Mass. It is not sufficient to tell them that the Mass is a social act of worship; it has to look a social sacrifice.

It may take some time to change the mentality of a priest who always refers to “his” Mass, but, until this social concept of Mass is realized and put into effect, we cannot expect Catholic solidarity in action. Furthermore. we can only blame ourselves, if many children on leaving school start to miss Mass. The youth at that age must be doing something. It is all very well to think of the mature minds who over the years may have acquired a certain ability in personal prayer, but young people cannot be expected to have that.

FACTORS MAKING FOR SUCCESS

The success of the Dialogue Mass depends on the attitude of the priest. If he regards the Mass as his own affair and will not wait for the people to make the responses or hurries his Latin. the Dialogue Mass is impossible under such conditions. If he is prepared to regard the people as a royal priesthood and a chosen people, he will encourage them by the tone of voice he uses and the help he gives them. The objection, that the Dialogue Mass distracts the priest, can only be raised by one who has no experience of it. The people merely answer him or recite the vocal parts of the Mass with him. So far from distracting him it helps him to concentrate on what he is saying. As for the silent parts—the people are silent, when he is silent.

More frequently, one hears the objection that the Dialogue Mass distracts the people. This is not so. It might distract them from their own prayers but not from the Mass. Some of the old people might not like it for a time, but experience in every part of the world has shown that the young and the middle-aged do like it. Soldiers, who experienced the Dialogue and Sung Masses of the natives up in New Guinea and the other islands during war, are loud in their praise of such Masses. Whatever the objections raised, the fact of the matter is that the Church has designed the Mass for congregational participation and the Popes have demanded it. What about the pride and disobedience involved in refusing the people their right?

The Dialogue Mass is the first step in parish worship. After some time the people will be ready for the more ideal form- the Sung Mass, but the whole affair needs the leadership and encouragement of the priest.

LITURGY IN THE DIOCESE

COMMISSION FOR PROMOTING LITURGY

What can be done on the Diocesan level’? A great deal! While a priest here and there might want to do something along the lines outlined above, many more will embark on it, if they feel they have the encouragement and approval of the Bishop. Pope Pius XII in “Mediator Dei” has this to say:

“We therefore exhort you, Venerable Brethren, in your dioceses or within the sphere of your jurisdiction, to see that the way in which the faithful take part in the liturgy conforms to the rules laid down in the Missal and the instructions issued by the Congregation of Rites and in the Code of Canon Law; so that everything shall be conducted with due order and seemliness and no private individual, even though he be a priest, be allowed to use the church for the purpose of arbitrary experiments. To this end We desire that besides a Commission for the regulation of sacred music and art, each diocese should also have a Commission for promoting the liturgical apostolate, so that under your watchful care the instructions of the Apostolic See may in all things be observed.”

I would like to stress the words “a Commission for promoting the liturgical apostolate”; it is then not only a question of maintaining regularity and uniformity but also a question of encouragement, guidance and leadership. One such a commission is established, experience shows that priests gain confidence in bringing the liturgy into the lives of the people. They don’t feel “lone wolves” in their apostolate and you find various groups of priests gathering together to study the liturgy and its application to parochial life.

SYLLABUS

One of the most important diocesan contributions to this end is the setting of a syllabus of Gregorian Chant and Hymns to be learnt in the Schools and appointing someone, preferably a priest, to visit the schools and see that the syllabus is taught. Such a syllabus should not be heavy: otherwise the teachers feel unable to cope with its requirements. But in the dioceses of Australia, where a syllabus has been set and inspected. the parochial clergy have found automatically presented to them a means of performing the ceremonies worthily. The whole drive in a diocese must be to make the people realize in this prayer their union with Christ.

LITURGY IN THE NATION

Under the heading of the national level at which the liturgy be encouraged there are several problems which can make or mar the spiritual life of this continent.

IN SEMINARIES AND RELIGIOUS HOUSES

The chief of these is the question of seminaries and novitiates and indeed any religious house where priests or teachers are trained. There is no doubt that, if a seminarist or religious receives the right training during those formative years. the spiritual life of the Church is truly safeguarded. Unfortunately it is true that in this part many of these training grounds have given scant attention to the prayer and ceremonies of the Church. Liturgy classes are often mere classes in rubrics with little teaching of the historical development or spiritual basis of liturgical prayer. Many students, on entry to the college, are branded as “crocks” or “crows” and they are excluded from participation in chant classes and sung Masses. Religious houses are notable for the absence of High Mass and solemn ceremonies even where numbers make it an easy matter. Religious are sent out to teach in schools well versed in teaching secular subjects and the catechism, but ignorant of the very prayer-life of the Church.

Pius XI in his “Apostolic Constitution had this to say:—“In seminaries and in other houses of study for the formation of the clergy, both secular and regular, there should be a frequent and almost daily lecture or practice- however short- in Gregorian chant and sacred music. If this is carried out in the spirit of the liturgy, the students will find it a relief rather than a burden to their minds, after the study of more exacting subjects.”

Pius XII in “Mediator Dei” follows this up with the following admonition:

“Make it your special care (Venerable Brethren), that the clergy of the rising generation, while being trained in ascetics, theology, Canon Law and pastoral studies, shall be correspondingly taught to understand liturgical ceremonies, to appreciate their majesty and beauty and give careful study to the rubrics. Such training is desirable, not only for its educational value, not only for its utility in enabling the young student, when the time comes, to carry out the rites of our religion with due order, seemliness and dignity, but also and especially as a means of educating him in the closest possible union with Christ the Priest, so that being the minister of holy things, he may himself be holy.”

This plea comes up time and time again from the Sovereign Pontiffs and this equally applies to all religious to whom the training of Catholic youth is to be entrusted, it is important that this is realized by religious orders, for not infrequently it happens that, instead of being a help to build up the sacramental life of a parish, they allow their energies to be directed to the propagation of particular devotions which, though legitimate, are secondary to the primary and indispensable source of the true Christian spirit which is the active participation in the sacred mysteries.

EPISCOPAL COMMITTEE

To encourage and supervise these developments it would seem desirable that there be established an Episcopal Committee for Liturgy which would stress the importance of the prayer-life of the church, and which would ensure the balance between public worship and private devotions be maintained, and that those entrusted to the care of souls be trained to nourish those souls according to the mind of our Holy Mother the Church. Protestations of loyalty to the Holy See mean very little when, in a matter affecting the very basis of the spiritual life of the church, small heed is paid to the repeated call of the Sovereign Pontiff.

CONCLUSION

It would trespass on your time to review all the possibilities and effects of a full parochial life of community prayer and active sacramental living. I have had time but to mention some of the important aspects of this problem. I have had no time to mention the effect of such a life on the apostolate of convert work, but each priest in this gathering will recall the impressions of many converts of his own acquaintance who have commented on our “dumb” congregations. I have had no time to enlarge on the place of liturgical prayer and action in the Lay Apostolate or on the necessity of the liturgy, if the Church here in Australia is to reach some maturity.

There is little more I can do than summarize the work of Blessed Pius X and his successors in pointing to the threefold new emphasis in the Church-the emphasis in its theology on the doctrine of the Mystical Body, the emphasis in its apostolate on the active participation of the laity and the emphasis in its prayer on the community life of the liturgy. In this half-century we have witnessed a new vigour in the Church largely the result of the vision and drive of Pius X. If we still fall short of his ideals, let us turn to his writings and those of his successors, let us implore his intercession and help to guide us “to restore all things in Christ.”

The Church is the Bride of Christ. She has been mocked and spat upon as her Spouse was. She has been weighed down with the sins of her wandering children; she has been bruised and attacked by her enemies. But we in our love, must seek to adorn her, to ensure that she stands forth radiant in all her beauty. We must adorn her with all the beauty that human mind can devise; we must adorn her, not with cheap tinsel of a chain-store, but with the perfection of the arts. Let us clothe her with the beauty of our painting, our statuary, our architecture and our vestments; let her, through our mouths, sing her inspired love-song to her Divine Beloved; let us be the expression of that grand Magnificat surging up from a heart filled with the Holy Ghost; let us present her to her Beloved and to the world in all the glory of her model, Mary Mother of the Bride, that all the world may exclaim:

“Who is she that cometh forth as the morning rising, bright as the sun, fair as the moon, terrible as an army set in battle array.”

Decrees of the Fourth Plenary Council of Australia and New Zealand held in Sydney. 1937. CHAPTER XIV—REGARDING CHURCH MUSIC

DECREES 552–568.

552. Music in Churches should be carried out according to the laws which are contained in the Motu Proprio of Pius X, “Inter Pastoralis” (22.Nov.1903), “the Code of Sacred Music” and which are confirmed and amplified by Pope Pius XI in his Apostolic Constitution “Divini Cultus” (20.Dec 1928).

553. Since the office of singers in church is truly 1iturgical, it follows that women, having no part in such an office, may be admitted to form part of the choir rarely and only if necessary. If high voices are to be used, then boys should be chosen for these parts.

554. Care must be taken that in primary schools, boys and girls become familiar with the more common liturgical melodies such as, for example, are to be found in the “Kyriale.”

555. It is highly desirable that Schools of Sacred Music should be established. It is of utmost importance that the Church itself should undertake the training of its own teachers and singers in accordance with the precepts of true sacred art.

556. It is well to recall the very wise words of our Holy Father Pius XI, “It is to be deplored,” he says, “that these most wise laws in some places have not been fully observed, and therefore their intended results not obtained. We know that some have declared that these laws, though so solemnly promulgated, were not binding upon their obedience. Others obeyed them at first, but have since come gradually to give countenance to a type of music which should be altogether banned from our churches.”

557. Whoever pursues their studies for the priesthood, not only in seminaries, but also in religious houses, should be imbued from the beginning of their studies with Gregorian Chant and music.

558. Boys’ choirs should be set up not only in the larger churches and cathedrals but also in smaller parish churches.

559. It is truly most necessary that the faithful should not appear strangers or silent spectators but filled with beauty of the liturgy participate in the sacred ceremonies alternating the singing with that of the priest and of the choir.

560. Let religious communities of both sexes be anxious to achieve this goal in the various educational institutes entrusted to them. To see this achieved, we appeal to societies set up in some dioceses who, under episcopal authority, strive to restore sacred music according to the law of the church.

561. The Gregorian Chant to be used in all churches is that which, restored from the ancient codices, has been promulgated by the Church in the authentic Vatican edition.

562. Since music today is principally secular in its use, greater care is now needed that more recently composed music not be approved unless it fully conforms to the rules laid down by the Holy See for sacred music.

563. The proper language of the Roman Church is Latin; therefore in solemn liturgical functions nothing may be sung but in Latin, especially the variable and common parts of the Mass and Office.

564. The liturgical text must be sung as it is printed with no corruption, omission or addition of words and with no undue repetition and with no abrupt declamation, so that the text may be understood by the people.

565. It is not permissible that the chant or the organ should unduly delay the priest in the liturgical ceremony. According to Ecclesiastical instructions, the Sanctus must be finished before the Elevation, although the Celebrant himself must be reasonable towards the singers in such matters. Following the example of the Gregorian chant, let the Gloria and Credo be fairly brief.

566. The organ is the correct musical instrument for the Church. No other instruments should be used without the permission of the Ordinary.

567. No singer should be admitted to a Church choir unless he be a good practising Catholic. It would add to the decorum of the ceremonies if the boy choristers when they sang in ceremonies wore surplice and soutane.

568. It is most desirable that the faithful in a much greater measure at evening devotions and in processions raise their voice in singing those vernacular hymns that do so much to increase the knowledge and devotion of the people.

Nihil Obstat:

L. RUMBLE, M.S.C. . Censor Deputatus.

Imprimatur:

R. COLLENDER. V.G. Sydneyi. 25.3.1954.

********

The Maid of Lisieux

REV. A. POWER, S.J

INDEX

CHAPTER I

GOLDEN JUBILEE

St. Therese of Lisieux died on Thursday, September 30, 1897.

When the project of celebrating the Golden Jubilee of her entrance into Paradise was laid before his Holiness Pope Pius XII he cordially approved and rejoiced that this honour should be paid to her who was, he declared, “the greatest Saint of modern times.” The Jubilee year is being honoured at Lisieux and in Carmels all over the world.

And how amazing is the story of the spiritual triumphs of this young French girl during the past 50 years! Millions of people of every age and clime and religious creed have fallen under her influence reaching them especially through her Autobiography written off-hand in obedience to superiors a year or two before her death. It is now recognised as one of the world’s great spiritual books, ranking with the Confessions of St. Augustine, the Imitation of Christ, the Autobiography of St. Teresa of Avila. The authors of these famous volumes wrote when already mature in years and ripe in experience of men and books. Whereas Therese was a mere child of twenty-three with practically no knowledge of the world and its ways. Moreover, Augustine had to tell of years spent in heresy, waywardness and sin, Teresa of Avila had to confess to a long period of tepidity and carelessness. Angela of Foligno had also a sad story of infidelities to narrate. These, and many others, have interested mankind because they have wandered away from God before beginning to serve Him fervently. Their story was that of the soul in headlong flight from the pursuit of the Divine Lover.

A DIFFICULT TASK

But Therese of Lisieux had the far more difficult task of making attractive the story of a life of complete innocence, a life of entire surrender to God from the very beginning; a life too, that was spent, not in the glare of footlights or amidst the roar of worldly applause, but in the uneventful surroundings of a Norman town and for the last nine years in the hushed seclusion of a Carmelite Monastery. For a woman of twenty-three to write such a personal and intimate narrative of God’s dealings with her soul, and do so without a trace of affectation, in a tone of convincing sincerity, with a candour and charm that disarm criticism, is surely a unique achievement both in the world of letters and in the annals of self-revelation. The book was published in October, 1898, and we are told that at once it produced a sensation-a great outburst of astonishment; copies were called for on every side and there began a circulation which has exceeded that of any other spiritual book of modern times.

HER SECRET

And the secret of it all is that Therese had a great love story to tell, the tremendous love story that is the theme of the Bible and of all Christian Revelation, the romance that filled the Life of Jesus of Nazareth and His Mother Mary, and all the Saints, the romance that thrills us in the Confessions of St. Augustine, and in the “Hound of Heaven,” and that strikes a chord in every human soul and holds for each the promise of a divine Companionship which alone can make eternal existence tolerable.

CHARACTERISTICS

As we reflect on the career of this French girl, that began some 70 years ago, and has been unfolding gradually under our eyes since the century began, and note the extraordinary swiftness with which her cult swept the globe, we may ask ourselves what are the qualities in her life, character, and teaching, that may seem to explain her phenomenal success in the spiritual order. For from the point of view of the worldling, who sets store chiefly on health and wealth, a successful career, abundance of friends, independence, amusements, art, literature, fame, a long life-she may be regarded as a complete failure. At school-age she entered on the austere life of a Carmelite nun-that is, a life of acute poverty, discomfort, absolute obedience, privation of home comforts, association with people at times trying, disagreeable or harsh; and in addition to the mental agony caused by the mental breakdown of her father she was stricken very soon with tubercular disease, which, after months of intolerable suffering caused her death at the age of twenty-four. In that short career, wealth, bodily pleasure, success, played no part.

Yet perhaps no woman since Catherine of Siena has influenced, and continues to influence, so many human lives as this French recluse! To us believers it is another striking illustration of the truth that the grain of wheat must fall into the ground and die in order to produce fruit. It is-one may reverently say-the story of Calvary over again. The Man whose words and example have revolutionized human thought and human existence more effectively than any other, died on a Cross, executed as a public malefactor by the official representative of the most flourishing empire the world has ever known.

SHE FORESAW HER OWN TRIUMPH

In the story of St. Therese we may perhaps call attention to the following points as helping to explain the extraordinary impression she produced. It is an interesting and probably unique fact that as death approached she foresaw and foretold the spiritual triumph that would be hers after death, and the world-wide favour she would win. A few of her sentences uttered from her bed of pain have become household words in Catholic circles, such as her promise to send a “Shower of Roses,” or the words inscribed on the plain wooden cross erected over her grave in Lisieux cemetery: “Je veux passer mon ciel a faire du bien sur la terre.”

On July 16, 1897, Therese received Viaticum from the hands of a young priest who celebrated his first Mass in the Convent Chapel, and next day she made the following prophetic announcement to her sister, Mother Agnes, “I feel that my mission is soon to begin, my mission to make the good God loved as I love Him, to teach souls my “little way.” I will spend my heaven in doing good upon earth. There cannot be any rest for me till the end of the world, till the angels will have said “time is no more.”“

Events since that memorable date have proved the truth of her prophecy. The records of the “Pluie de Roses” published year after year tell how generously she has kept her word.

“AS LITTLE CHILDREN”

Another fact about St. Therese that has won the absorbed attention of mankind is that she makes the road to God so simple, so accessible to all. Amidst the bewildering complexities of the world’s most sophisticated age, this nun has given a new and world-wide publicity to the great fundamental truth announced in Palestine long ago, that the surest passport to the kingdom of heaven is to seek God with the humility, simplicity and unhesitating confidence of the child dealing with its parents. Unbelief and despair are the besetting evils of modern life. Blindness to the supernatural has settled down over so many millions like a blanket of dark clouds blotting out the light of faith which is as essential to the soul’s well-being as sunshine to the life of the rose. Therese in her brief career had bitter experience of what this terrible spiritual darkness could be like. During her last months on earth the lights of heaven seemed to be completely extinguished for her. Yet her faith and trust in God never wavered. In the gloom she clung desperately to His Hand; and at the same time accepted this appalling abandonment and desolation in order to win strength for those overwhelmed by doubt and separated from God because they cannot believe or hope.

That Therese was right, that her heroic loyalty and pertinacity in leaning on God by acts of faith and trust when all sensible perception and enjoyment had departed was not in vain, has been overwhelmingly proved by the miraculous seal set upon her work, and the testimony of millions of people who have experienced the power of her intercession. She has fully justified her daring words, “My mission is to make God loved by others as I love Him.”

SPIRIT OF JOY

“Splendid and holy causes are served by men who are themselves splendid and holy,” writes a modern hero remarkable for his loyalty to a great cause. What wonderful joy Therese has brought into the lives of men and women and children since her death! Evidence of it is found in every page of the records collected at Lisieux.

The peace and joy she communicates are the fruit of the joy that ever reigned in her own soul and that breathes from her autobiography, in spite of her cruel sufferings.

Just as Jesus who warned his disciples to expect bitter persecution and the hatred ofmankind also said, “My peace I leave you, such peace as the world does not give,” and as St. Paul, when cruelly harassed and persecuted, cried out to his converts, “Rejoice in the Lord always, again I say rejoice,” so St. Therese in the highest part of her soul found immeasurable happiness in the possession of her Divine Lover, in the knowledge that she loved and was loved by Him. She promised to send down a “rain of roses”; and her plan was when she reached her Lover’s home, to seize and rifle His treasures of grace and scatter them with lavish hands on her fellow creatures still toiling and suffering on earth and struggling to reach eternal happiness.

During the past 40 years countless acts of gratitude and innumerable letters sent to the Lisieux Carmel have formed a chorus of praise for favours bestowed-unprecedented in the history of mankind. They are records of personal favours of every imaginable kind, bodily cures frequently of a startling nature, spiritual blessings, conversions, the gift of prayer, success in missionary work, etc. But a characteristic note of every one of their testimonies is JOY. The writers speak of extraordinary visitations of consolation, interior peace, and happiness. Which all goes to prove that Therese has served as a unique and fascinating interpreter to mankind of the tenderness and love of the Heart of Jesus. She drew her inspiration from the Bible-both Old and New Testament. And she presents Christ’s message of love so persuasively that the most stubborn and hardened hearts have been touched.

MISSIONARY SPIRIT

A fourth characteristic is her extraordinary apostolic or missionary zeal. Although she was a recluse shut up in a quiet Carmelite Convent, in spirit she ranged over the whole wide world, contemplating the painful toil of active workers on the foreign mission fields, and longing to bring them help and comfort. That she succeeded-in this the endless chronicles of the “Shower of Poses” prove. So marked has this influence been that Pope Pius XI took the unprecedented step of appointing this twenty-four-year-old Carmelite nun, Patron of the Foreign Missions, along with, and on the same level as St. Francis Xavier, who is generally considered the greatest Apostle since St. Paul.

THE LESSON FOR US

Now the supremely important lesson for us seems to be this: that St. Therese shows what the Apostleship of Prayer means, and what it can effect. She achieved her missionary triumphs by offering to God her fervent (though often utterly dry) prayers, her daily routine of work, and above all her sufferings, for the saving of souls. We make this same morning offering. Hers was made with an intensity of fervour and love that captivated the Sacred Heart and brought about the marvellous results we read of.

The highest point, so to say, of her apostolic vocation was reached when, on June 10, 1895, she made the heroic oblation of herself as a “Victim of Love.” Her fidelity to that offering was tested (during the two years that followed) in the severest way by appalling sufferings of body and soul; and she stood the test with superb courage. The story of these last months of anguish-the story of her “passion” and agonising death-is the most moving part of the record of her earthly career. But the glorious fruit that resulted is shown us in the chronicle of her supernatural activity from heaven during the fifty years that have elapsed since.

CHAPTER II

NORMAN CONQUEST

Lisieux has conquered the world!

The little Norman. town has emerged from long centuries of obscurity to become a household word on the lips of mankind. Yesterday, scarcely known except to students of William the Conquerer; today, it is as familiar as Sydney or New York.

And why? Because a little French girl spent some years in that town loving God with a great passionate love; then told the world her love-story in enchanting language, and so completely won the heart of mankind by the magic of her song, that all needs must listen, and, listening, follow whither she leads.

And the path she treads soars upwards; upwards to the wind-swept heights where the human soul comes face to face with God.

The way is narrow and steep, but she is such a winsome guide, she so bestrews the path with flowers, she speaks in such persuasive tones of the sunlit mountain peaks where her own soul dwells, that none need fear to follow.

HER THEME

Her theme is fascinating because it is the theme that is nearest and dearest to us all, even though at times we realise it not.

Her theme is God and His love: and about that we all want to learn.

Every human soul is thirsting for God, since every soul is thirsting for happiness. And final and complete happiness God alone can give.

St. Therese, at the very dawn of reason, made the momentous discovery which many make but late in life, some not at all, that her soul belonged to God, was created for God, could be happy only in possessing Him.

Columbus-like, she discovered this new interior region of her soul, and spent her life absorbed in contemplating the beauty of that inner world, filled with the light that is God Himself.

THE PALACE OF THE SOUL

God is found in the soul as in no other place whatever in the universe. God constructed the soul that He might reveal His beauty to it. Just as the eye exists for light, so the soul for God. The eye has no explanation without light; but, given light, its purpose is manifest at once.

So with the soul. It is a riddle to which God is the answer. The soul is made to be God’s residence; the workshop of His activity; only in such a spiritual, intellectual, thinking substance can God display the wonders of His grace.

Most men are blind to these truths. They are too busy, too distracted by the external world, by the fascinating panorama of the ceaseless play of creatures, to give attention to the presence and activity of God within themselves.

And yet, the soul needs God: cannot exist or be happy without Him. And so, when anyone speaks persuasively, authoritatively, with the ring of sincerity about God, all must listen.

GOD’S POET

The poet charms the world by singing sweetly of nature’s beauty or of human lovelinesss.

The saint sings sweetly of the Lord of Beauty and also enchants our souls. For if the beauty of the creature is so irresistible, sways us so masterfully, will not the Beauty of Him, Who created all other beauty, draw our hearts like a magnet?

And so, little St. Therese is the poet of God; Hers, too, Is a love-song; and she has become a Queen of Hearts-a veritable ruler of mankind, by teaching us the sweet art of Love.

MARY MAGDALEN

When Mary of Magdala met Jesus, and, under His piercing, pitiful look, woke up from the nightmare of sin to the daylight reality of God and His love-then, at last, she discovered that her soul was made for God, and she leaped up to new life in the sunshine of His presence.

SAUL OF TARSUS

When Saul of Tarsus met Jesus on the road to Damascus and for one ecstatic moment caught a glimpse of the radiant beauty of the divine Countenance, then he, too, realised the purpose of life; he knew that he was being asked by God to give up everything for the sake of love; and that glimpse conquered him for ever.

With the soft persuasiveness of childhood, St. Therese has brought home to multitudes of her fellow creatures the fact that God loves them, that He wants their love in return, that He created them expressly for this.

And thus she is the Apostle of Divine Love.

HER PLACE AMONGST THE SAINTS

How shall we estimate her place amongst the saints?

The story of her rise to fame is hardly to be paralleled in the annals of the Church.

Fifty years ago she died in obscurity, in a poor Carmelite Convent in Normandy, whispering indeed to her intimate friends as she lay dying startling little prophecies of what the future had in store for her; but utterly unknown to the world at large.

Today there is, perhaps, no saint in the Calendar so well known in all the five continents.

Yet there are not found in the story of her life any of the unusual or startling incidents that mark the lives of many others who have scaled the heights of sanctity.

THE MAID OF ORLEANS

Jeanne D”Arc, when she was a girl of eighteen, struck men dumb by demanding to be made General-in-Chief of the armies of France, in order to save her country from ruin. And, amazingly, she compelled the French warriors of the day to grant her request, and, in justification of her audacity, led them to victory, and changed the course of history.

Then, her work being done, she died a death of shame, burnt as a witch in the market-square of Rouen. The blazing fires that sprang up on that May morning in 1431 and consumed the body of that innocent saint have served as a beacon to blazon her virtues to the world.

She died as Christ died, amidst hatred and execration; but, like Christ, she triumphed through death. Her martyrdom was the beginning of her apostolate, and today the world, both within the Catholic Church and without, echoes to the praise of the heroic French girl who dared everything for the sake of Love.

To the Maid of Orleans men’s eyes were drawn by the very strangeness and novelty of her enterprise; by the picturesque, chivalrous story of her achievements; by the pitiful tragedy of her death.

THE MAID OF LISIEUX

Not so with the Maid of Lisieux. She has accomplished the more remarkable feat of weaving out of the ordinary monotonous events of daily life-a story that fascinates the world.

Jeanne D”Arc, in obedience to angel voices that urged her to fight for France, donned her armour and led the French soldiers to victory, teaching them the while to avoid sin, to lead good lives and serve God.

Therese of Lisieux, obeying the voice of her Superior, wrote the story of her simple, uneventful life, and lo! the book became the instrument of her apostolate; the channel through which her influence was to flow out all over the earth.

“AS LITTLE CHILDREN”

And what is the theme of this book?

In one sentence it is this Gospel lesson, “Become as little children if you would become great with God.” Little Therese shows us in actual, living reality what this teaching of Jesus means, and how it is to be carried out. Her mission in modern times is surely providential.

The modern world is full of pride of intellect, self-sufficiency, and rejection of the supernatural. It rejoices in linking itself up with the animal world on the one hand, and cutting itself off from God on the other. It rejects the divine sonship, but works feverishly to discover some clue that may triumphantly establish its descent from the ape.

HERALD OF NEW LIFE

Surely the Maid of Lisieux is a portent in the midst of such a world!

Just as the birth of the Babe at Bethlehem was a startling event in a world full of idolatrous temples, where vice was enthroned and worshipped as a god; so the apparition of this saintly child, all aflame with love, in the midst of the cold rationalism and indifference of the nineteenth century, treading her way through the world with the simple grace and dignity of a queen, exacting the homage which men inevitably pay to beauty, purity, and truth, is an event that challenges attention.

THE SHEPHERDESS OF LOURDES

God’s ways are not our ways. When, after the orgy of philosophic denial and scoffing at religion, which culminated in the French Revolution, God wished to revive the age of miracles, the instrument He chose for the purpose was an unlettered shepherdess, a child pasturing her flock on the slopes of the Pyrenees. As the Angels came to simple folk at Bethlehemto herald Christ’s birth and the inauguration of a new era of supernatural activity on earth; so, at Lourdes, Christ’s Mother appeared to Bernadette to tell her of a new period of activity in the world of grace, which would result from revival of devotion to Mary; so that Lourdes would become a centre to which crowds would stream from the ends of the earth to find healing of body and soul.

“A LITTLE CHILD SHALL LEAD THEM”

And so, in our iron age of highly developed commercialism, when lust for money and craving for pleasure so absorb man’s energies that God is forgotten, His very existence denied, it was necessary that the value and meaning of simple faith and trust should once more be brought vividly home to men’s souls, and the instrument God chose to effect His purpose was Teresa Martin; and through her simple thoughts and example God has spoken to the intellect and the heart of humanity.

CHAPTER III

ASCENT OF MOUNT CARMEL

It is surely a striking fact that the most popular and successful saint of the Church for the past seven centuries -since Anthony of Padua died in 1231-should be a Discalced Carmelite nun; a young, highly-gifted, warm-hearted affectionate girl to whom the Carmelite life-with its spirit of complete self-renunciation, its rigorous austerities, its constant prayer, its entire separation from the world-made such a strong appeal that she was full of eager impatience to be allowed to enter the cloister before the canonical age. Having entered, she spent nine years of entire contentment (though also of great suffering) in the monastery, and died with a prophecy on her lips about the marvellous work she would do for the Church-of the “Shower of Roses” she would send down from heaven to brighten and sweeten this cold, grey world. In the story of her life, written a few months before death by command of her Superior, she told her secret. And were there nothing to show but this record of a perfect life enshrined in that glorious book, “L”Historie d”Une Ame,” the Order of Carmel would still have an imperishable monument to point to as justifying its existence. Its members could say: “See how the Carmelite idea works out in practice. See how applicable it is to modern conditions. See how it can satisfy a generous nature bent on scaling the mountain peaks of sanctity.”

But, then, besides this record of the earthly career of St. Therese of Lisieux -this wonderful revelation of her interior life and of the intercourse of her perfect and innocent soul with its Maker-we have the further justification of the Carmelite idea in the startling approval given by the miracles of St. Therese.

MIRACLES

Miracles are God’s sign-manual whereby He sometimes shows His approbation of men and their doings and ideas. Mankind has, of course, ever found it essential to have means of distinguishing truth from falsehood, the genuine from the forgery, real gold and jewels from glittering imitations.

And this is equally necessary in the world of ideas. We live amidst the clash of opposing doctrines, principles, systems-and we must have means to discover Truth, especially in the matter which of all others is most supremely important for each of us to be certain about-namely, the purpose of life and our final destiny.

We must, of course, use our own intellectual faculties in this as in other departments -they were given to us for that purpose. Our natural reason and power of distinguishing the genuine from the imitation must be called vigorously into play in our religious life as in ordinary daily business.

But in certain matters connected with the soul and its life after death, we find ourselves, in spite of all our investigations, groping in the dark, and must look for guidance to Him Who alone has full knowledge of the future. Such guidance He has at various times given by revealing His thoughts to chosen souls, whom He supernaturally enlightens, and sends as heralds and messengers of the Truth to the world.

GOD’S SIGN MANUAL

But these divine messengers must be furnished with credentials; their right to teach must be guaranteed by Him who sends them as His spokesmen. Now it is by miracles that this guarantee is given. It was to His own miracles that God’s Chief Prophet and Apostle-Jesus of Nazareth-appealed in proof of His right to teach. And miracles have accompanied His messengers all down the ages, as Jesus Himself promised they would. The history of Catholicism has miracles woven into its very texture; not only during the life of its Founder-from His miraculous conception and birth, all through His public life, to His death, resurrection, and ascension into heaven-but also all through the unfolding of His religion and its development in every part of the world.

Many Christian sects and non-Catholic bodies reject miracles-refuse even to listen to the evidence for them; whereas the Catholic Church consistently appeals to miracles as part of her credentials, and reminds us that her claim to find miraculous manifestations in connection with her saints is itself a proof that she is the Church founded by Christ, who so clearly promised that miracles would accompany the preaching of His Gospel.

THE CHURCH NOT AFRAID

The Catholic Church is not afraid of her principles. When confronted by the rationalists of the nineteenth century- who jeered at ecclesiastical miracles as the product of heated imagination or as downright trickery and fraud-the Catholic Church challenged the scientific world to come to Lourdes and examine the multitudinous cures taking place there for which no natural explanation could be found. In the beatification and canonisation of her saints, the Church habitually and regularly appeals to miracles as an irrefragable proof of the sanctity of her children.

Since the death of St. Therese in 1897, the Church has witnessed an unprecedented outburst of miraculous activity, a whole torrent of beneficent graces and favours granted through the intercession of this Carmelite nun. And just as this “Shower of Roses” is a guarantee that Soeur Therese is God’s friend, so also are they a guarantee of God’s approval of the Carmelite idea and the method of life pursued by those men and women who give themselves up to prayer and penance for the welfare of the Church and the Interests of Christ.

STONE WALLS DO NOT A PRISON MAKE

Another way of looking at the matter is this. The Carmelite idea is proved to be solid and reliable by the long experience of centuries, and by the number and kind of people who have flung themselves wholeheartedly into the Carmelite life, convinced that in doing so they were taking steps to secure the highest development of their spiritual nature.

For no one would be justified in taking up the life led in Carmelite monasteries unless morally certain that such life tends to the expansion and growth of the soul along the lines in which God intends the soul to progress.

At first sight, of course, it may seem that to enter the precincts of Carmel is like entering a prison; and, after all, a jail is not, one would imagine, an ideal place for furthering one’s personal development, either of body or soul.

To become a Carmelite nun means cutting oneself off from intercourse with the intellectual world of literature, art and science, and from all the various means of mental expansion which are provided in books, pictures, works of art, architecture, drama, and music.

How can it possibly tend to the expansion of the soul to take such a step?

Moreover, it means also cutting off to a large extent the pleasure of affectionate intercourse with one’s relations and intimate friends-the crushing of the heart by denying it the high and holy gratifications which arise from honourable human love.

Yet, see how eagerly Teresa Martin, in spite of her artistic and poetic temperament, in spite of her passionate and tender love for her father and sisters, yearned to be shut up within the Carmelite enclosure-never again to see the happy world whose beauty and charm she so thoroughly appreciated and enjoyed?

THE PRISONER OF BETHLEHEM

We may, perhaps, most easily find an answer to this paradox by turning our eyes to a scene that is a familiar subject of contemplation to every Carmelite nun-the Birth of Christ at Bethlehem.

There in the little country town, whilst bankers and usurers are busy counting their money in Jerusalem, and King Herod is planning new crimes to shield himself against possible rivals, and far away in the West Emperor Augustus is ruling his wide dominions, and Roman legions are tramping all round the Mediterranean-amidst the crash and roar and tumult of Roman civilisation-certain shepherds are speeding along the road to Bethlehem in search of a precious object.

And what do they find? A Woman and her new-born Baby in a stable. That is all.

Yet there, in that sacred stillness, a great world-revolution is being prepared. The whole future of civilisation lies enshrined in that lonely cave on that starry, frosty night.

The shepherds came with haste, for they had seen a heavenly vision and had listened to heavenly music, and their hearts were all aflame to find Him of whom the angels sang so sweetly; they had tasted His fragrance and must needs find Him who is the Source of all sweetness, and what they found was not a rich child, robed in silk, glittering with jewels, cradled in luxury; not the famous and powerful ones of this earth, seated on thrones, wielding a sceptre, issuing words of command to trembling millions. But they found just Mary and Joseph-two simple country folk, stamped with the badge of poverty, the greathallmark of the world’s teeming millions. But in the care of these two people they find the world’s Treasure-heaven’s most precious Jewel, God’s supremest gift to the race-the Child that is a Divine Person.

A Carmelite nun is ever seeking to find Jesus, to taste the sweetness of His Presence, to enjoy His blessed gifts, and also to entertain Him, to offer Him a loving welcome in the midst of a cold, disdainful world, engrossed in its own material affairs.

But the Carmelite contemplative is not merely hungering for her own spiritual ease or enjoyment-she is seeking Jesus and His gifts in order to communicate them to others. Charity and zeal for souls are the very breath of her life.

CARMELITE ZEAL

Think of the two great Carmelite women whose interior life is so fully made known to us by their own writings- Teresa of Avila and Therese of Lisieux.

What is it that stamps them both at once as filled with the spirit of Jesus? It is their inexhaustible charity, their insatiable longing to help souls, to relieve misery and distress, to comfort the sorrowing, to rescue those in danger, especially in spiritual danger.

And see how God has answered their prayers in ways beyond their wildest dreams! Since through their writings (in both cases undertaken through obedience) they have exercised such extraordinary influence on the lives of millions of their fellow creatures.

Those writings -the story of their soul experiences-are all instinct with the fire of the love of God, and are the fine fruit of their souls” intimate communing with God; and so they fascinate the world.

For mankind is ever longing to get authentic news of God, and listens enraptured when the true singer and inspired messenger appears.

Had the Carmelite Order done nothing for the world but produce those two saintly women, and enriched it with their writings and their example, then the existence of the Order would be amply justified.

WHY NOT LEAD AN ACTIVE LIFE?

Sometimes one hears unkind remarks about Carmelite nuns. Why don’t they lead an active life of charity? Why not bestir themselves to help their neighbour? Why shirk the responsibilities of life, of home duties and family ties? Why not help to build up the nation and work for the increase of its material welfare and prosperity?

Such remarks are the outcome and expression of that narrow outlook on life that makes men judge everything by a material standard. But the most precious things in life cannot be so judged or measured.

The world’s greatest Thinker spent His time chiefly in teaching simple folk the truth about God and the value of the human soul, and in insisting upon the supreme importance of securing one’s eternal salvation. Jesus of Nazareth set little store on this world’s goods; nor did He aim at those more intellectual good things which men prize so highly-fame, success, high achievement, the inscribing one’s name on the honour-roll of history. He did not directly contribute anything to the advancement of science, commerce, political method, and yet He was the world’s supreme Benefactor by giving to it a treasure which gold and jewels could not buy- namely, the treasure of His own thought.

CHRIST’S THOUGHT

The Christian revolution was the out come of Christ’s thought leavening the life of the world. And that rich treasure poured so lavishly from the soul of Christ was the result of His soul’s intercourse with God.

His human lips spoke truths which He had learned not from men but from the Eternal Wisdom. “I say to thee that we speak what we know and we testify what we have seen:” (John iii, 11) “He that comes from heaven is above all: and what he has seen and heard, that he testifies.” (John iii, 32)

Now, it is in a similar way that the Carmelite enriches the world. She does not directly contribute to increase the world’s stock of gold, but she does something infinitely better-she keeps it rich with the golden love of God. And here again I appeal to the story of St. Therese of Lisieux. Her father was wealthy and she could have led a comfortable and elegant life had she chosen to remain in the world. Her love for the beautiful in nature and art could have been gratified to the full.

She might have become a great writer, a great poet, and adorned her country’s literature with another illustrious name.

Yet she deliberately turned away from all this, captivated by the beauty of Christ’s thought and Christ’s ideal, even though she saw clearly that His beckoning finger led to a path that was strewn with thorns.

Therese is an ideal Carmelite. In her we see what Carmelite methods and principles can produce when they find suitable material to work upon.

And why is it the Order can produce a saint like Therese? Because the Order is filled with the principles of Jesus. This Heavenly Carpenter alone has the secret and the cunning to shape souls to holiness. His thoughts must fructify in those that aim at loving God greatly.

And Carmel is a valuable asset to the world, just because it enshrines and guards so faithfully the thoughts and principles of Jesus of Nazareth.

GUARDING HIS SECRET

You may have heard of families in older countries that guard jealously for centuries the secret of some special process in the manufacture of cloth or dye or machinery or medicine. By means of this secret process they produce goods very valuable to mankind, and by faithfully preserving this knowledge they are benefactors of the race.

Well, Carmelites are people who guard carefully the secret of Christ’s teaching. They keep His principles in full vigour by shaping their own lives rigorously according to them. And sorely does the world need people like this, since the Christian ideal has to struggle for existence amidst such adverse pagan surroundings.

As a barren desert is hostile to life, so the world is hostile to Christ’s pri nciples; and as oases are essential for travellers across the desert, so spiritual oases are necessary in the blinding, sandy wastes of this infidel world to preserve for souls the blessed and nourishing waters of Christ’s teaching.

A Carmelite convent is such an oasis. In all the great cities of the world these homes of silence and prayer and penance are found, where religious men and women seek close union with God in prayer, in order thereby to win grace and peace and eternal happiness for their fellow beings.

CHAPTER IV

“LITTLE FLOWER OF JESUS”

A flower is beautiful -so exquisitely beautiful that we know nothing to compare it to in this rough world of ours; rather it is the standard of comparison for other beautiful things. To Teresa Martin, with her artistic temperament, a flower was a perfect type of the soul clad in the wedding garment of God’s grace.

The soul owes its supernatural beauty to the light and sunshine of grace that stream upon it from God’s infinite Being. God is the central sun whose radiant loveliness the soul shares by basking in His presence. Just as the rose needs the material sun for its existence, and without the heat and light of the sun it withers and dies, so the soul must absorb this supernatural light and heat, which it receives from God, and if it is cut off from that light and heat, it, too, withers and dies. Like the flower, the soul cannot weave this garment of beauty for itself. God alone can clothe it.

Teresa Martin reflected that if her soul was a heavenly flower, Jesus was the Gardener to whose care it had been entrusted; consequently, her soul was His flower. His one ambition in her regard was to make the flower grow in grace and loveliness until it should be ripe for transplanting to the gardens of heaven.

Moreover, there is a third quality of an earthly flower that helped to make the simile more complete -namely, that it is so fragile, so weak.

The giant trees of the forest, which have braved the storms of ages, are types of strength, and seemed to her to represent the great apostles and saints of the Church, whose lives of activity have so astonished the world. But she was weak; she could not be like them. Then she noted the little flowers that grew close to the earth beside the great trees; and they seemed to her, in their delicate beauty, types of her soul. And so she called herself the Little Flower of Jesus.

HER CANONISATION

Her canonisation means that the Church, using the teaching authority which Christ gave her, declares by a solemn sentence that Teresa Martin’s soul is safe with God; declares that she has attained the end for which God created her, to be happy with Him for ever; that she is a model we can safely imitate, since we know that she has made a success of her life; she has surmounted all obstacles, has passed the final examination, and has been crowned by God.

Surely nothing ought to interest us so deeply as the news of the final success of a soul in the struggle for life eternal. For this struggle is also our supreme struggle. The business in which St. Therese succeeded so gloriously is our business; the path she trod is the path we also must follow. Death, which to her was the gate of life, we also must pass through; and we desire that when we pass these dark gates our eyes may rest (as hers did) on the radiant, approving smile of Jesus, our Judge.

HER FASCINATION

Now, the attraction which St. Therese has for the world, the secret of her fascination, seems to lie largely in this, that she casts around all the stern truths and realities of life and death, of judgment and eternity, the charm of her own beautiful soul and personality.

Down at the root of all the unhappiness of life lies the element of fear. We are voyaging over a stormy sea; life is full of danger for body and soul. The future is uncertain. We seem to be the play-toy of incalculable forces, like sailors afloat on a boisterous ocean in a crazy craft. And looming ahead for each is the black storm cloud of death, that dread experience of which all are terrified.

When, lo! like a radiant vision, this child stands before us with words of grace on her lips, telling us how she conquered fear; how she transformed the sorrows and dangers of life into sources of golden gain for her soul, and how she made friends with Death.

HOW SHE CONQUERED FEAR

For she, too, had been afraid. Her soul, too, had been oppressed with anxiety. But light shone in the darkness, the light of God’s own teaching about the value of humility. She opened the Bible and read these words of the Book of Proverbs: “Whosoever is a little one, let him come to me.” (Prov. ix, 4.) She gazed long and lovingly at the arresting scene described in the Gospel where Jesus, holding a little child in His arms, utters this memorable sentence: “Whosoever humbles himself like this little child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven.” A golden sentence that has burned itself into the hearts of mankind!

Jesus came into the world to conquer fear. The world was afraid, because it lay under the shadow of sin, and knew no way of escape. In order to drown fear men plunged ever deeper into orgies of dissipation, rushed more madly into the black night of self-indulgence, to escape the anguish of remorse and terror.

God alone could bring relief, and it needed some very drastic method, indeed, to remedy such an appalling and deeplyrooted evil. And this freezing terror that gripped men’s souls was the fear of an angry God-the fear of what may befall the soul after death as the result of sin.

Now, if you really fear a person, only one thing can help you to conquer that fear-viz., to be persuaded that this person loves you. We see this in the case of the child. The child shrinks in terror from a stranger, but it is quite happy in its mother’s arms, because it knows the mother loves it.

We are God’s children, and to remove our fears He must display His affection visibly and sensibly. He must prove that He loves us. To do this was the mission of Jesus Christ.

A DRASTIC STEP

I have said just now that to conquer our fears God must take some drastic step, must do something that will appeal to us with irresistible force in order to have no doubt about His love, and make us really trust Him. And certainly, He has done something very drastic and far-reaching indeed. The Second Person of the Trinity, the Mind of God, became Man, was born in a stable, came to us as a child, died for us on a cross, and rose from the dead, all to demonstrate the tenderness, the delicacy, the utter unselfishness of His love.

Now, what happened to Teresa Martin was this: She woke up to this great truth of God’s love for her soul: she realised deeply that God was her Lover, that her soul was of priceless value to Him, and realising that, she put away fear. Jesus had cried out: “Become as little children if you would be great with God,” and she has shown us how this direction is to be carried out in actual practice.

This, then, is one element in the appeal she makes to mankind: she shows us how love can conquer fear.

HER CHARITY

Another element is her wonderful charity. Once she has tasted the sweetness of loving God -once she has discovered this great secret for conquering fear-she is all eagerness to share her treasure with others.

And, behold, this young nun, dying of tuberculosis, in an obscure convent in a remote little town, has a heart as big as the world, and wants to share her happiness with all mankind. And in her distress at her weakness and helplessness she turns to her Heavenly Lover and asks Him to find a way to realise this seemingly impossible ambition.

SECRET OF HER INFLUENCE

Now, how did God hear her prayer? What means did He employ to make her influence felt to the very ends of the earth? Chiefly two: First, at the bidding of her Superiors, she wrote the story of her life, the story of God’s dealings with her soul, and that narrative became in a wonderfully short space of time one of the world’s great books. I think it is safe to say that no spiritual book or life of a saint of modern times has exercised such a widespread influence for good, has been read with spiritual profit by so many people of all nations, as the “History of a Soul,” by Soeur Therese of Lisieux.

Through that book the little Carmelite Sister of Lisieux has preached to the world as few missionaries have ever preached; has touched hearts in a way to be paralleled only in the lives of great saints like St. Anthony of Padua, St. Vincent Ferrer, St. Bernardine of Siena.

SHOWER OF ROSES

The second means by which God fulfilled her wishes was by granting extraordinary favours on behalf of those for whom she pleaded. The “shower of roses” that has so astonished the world since her death has been the means of drawing all hearts to her, because it has shown the marvellous spirit of charity that filled her soul.

The sorrows of the whole wide world she made her own. Every form of human suffering claimed her sympathy, to every appeal she turned a ready ear. She is the Sister of Charity of the whole wide world, equally at home assisting soldiers on the battle-fields of France and Flanders, comforting missionaries in the frozen lands of the Esquimaux or in the wilds of Central Africa, coming in person to relieve the wants of a starving religious community in Italy, bringing light and consolation to the Pope in his many anxieties, restoring health to poor sick folk in the last stage of cancer or tuberculosis.

Her charity it is, her marvellous tenderness, her power of loving and showing her love in a practical way by bringing help, that has endeared her to all.

HER TRIUMPH

And yet how gloriously she has triumphed!

And her triumph, which is so like the triumph of the Risen Christ, is another proof that God’s Hand is with the

Catholic Church. For what other body in the world could dare to do what the Church has done in her case? Or, if they dared, could hope for any success in the attempt?

Civil States pile up monuments of bronze or marble to perpetuate their soldiers, statesmen, artists, philanthropists. Men tell with pride the story of David Livingstone, penetrating with missionary zeal into the heart of darkest Africa; of Florence Nightingale moving like an angel of comfort amongst the stricken soldiers of the Crimea; of other benefactors of mankind, whose external activity tells of generous and noble hearts beating within.

But what body in the world, except the Catholic Church, could honour a mere child as the Catholic Church has honoured St. Therese of Lisieux? In doing this the Catholic Church is giving actual, palpable evidence of her discernment of the supernatural beauty and qualities of the soul. The Church, too, honours and praises deeds of valour, lives of patriotism, great external achievements in the cause of humanity. But she alone has the divine instinct to recognise the greatness of humility and of love of God even in a child. She knows that the Carmelite nun in her cell may be as great a benefactor of mankind, may be as powerful an influence for good, as the soldier on the battlefield or the preacher in the pulpit. And the Church knows this because she knows the power of prayer-knows the irresistible might of love for God. And I say to you that this insight, this divine instinct, that makes the Catholic Church hold up for our admiration such lives as that of St. Therese of Lisieux, is a strong proof that theCatholic Church is God’s Church, since in thus holding up as a model one whose whole life is a living demonstration of Christ’s teaching about humility and the child-like spirit, the Church shows she is still guided by His Spirit, still animated by His principles, still setting store chiefly upon the supernatural treasures which Jesus told us should alone be the object of our solicitude during our pilgrimage here below.

Nihil obstat:

P. JONES,

Censor Deputatus.

Imprimatur:

@ DANIEL MANNIX

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis.

********

The Man Who Got Even With God

JOHN HANNING, AMERICAN EX-COWBOY

BY REV. MARIUS MCAULIFFE O.F.M

INDEX

I

John Green Hanning began life at Kentucky, U.S.A., on January 12, 1849, and ended it fifty-nine years later as Brother Joachim, in the Trappist Monastery, Gethsemani near his old Kentucky home, on April 80, 1908.

Though it is yet too soon to have an infallible pronouncement that would number him amongst the canonised saints, still, I think you will agree that the story of his strange life is well worth telling. You will find the full account in the beautifully written biography published by The Bruce Publishing Co., under the rather challenging title of “The Man Who Got Even With God.”

“I ALWAYS GET EVEN”

Many a youth has attempted to anticipate his entrance into man’s estate by surrep titiously smoking his father’s tobacco. Well, away back in old Kentucky, about the year 1864, eighteen-year-old John Hanning determined to prove to himself and the world that he was no longer a mere child by burning away, in one night, his father’s tobacco, to the tune of several thousand dollars. This is how it happened. That day John Hanning, Senior, and John Hanning, Junior, had some hot words. Worse still, they allowed the sun to go down on their anger. Now eighteen-year-old John had, already, even at that age, built himself a kind of perverted philosophy of life. The leading principle of that philosophy was summed up in these words which he had often used, even in his schoolboy fights: “I always get even.” It told its own tale of the vindictiveness of his character.

With the growing darkness of the night John Junior’s mind grew darker till he could see nothing but the blind necessity of getting even with his father.

He did get even.

That very night he set fire, and burned to the ground, the whole harvest of tobacco that was the fruit of a year’s toil on his father’s plantation. While the flames greedily devoured the dried leaves and the tobacco barns as well, John Hanning, fleeing from the home of his childhood, and from the anger of his father, had become a fugitive on the face of the earth.

A CHILD OF TEARS

One can easily imagine the desolation in the old homestead next morning when the dawn light revealed the full havoc of the fire. Many good neighbours would come to express their sorrow and to shake their heads forebodingly at the insane conduct of an ingrate son; the very same son who, only a year or so before had asked and been refused his father’s permission to become a monk in the nearby Trappist Monastery.

They were sad days for the good old couple, especially for the boy’s mother. After all, he was her boy. She was still his mother. The barn could be rebuilt, and a tobacco harvest would grow again next year, but what hope was there for the spiritual renewal of the son who had broken his parents” hearts and brought disgrace on an honoured name? Perhaps, too, the thought came that all this had happened because of his father’s refusal to allow the boy to follow a vocation in a Trappist Monastery.

If only its these sad hours it were given to her, and indeed to all the others, to draw aside just a little of the veil that hid the future, what a day of joy and triumph would be revealed, when all America, and, for that matter, all the Catholic world, would read with pride and delight the life story of that same renegade, who now fled from the anger of an outraged father and hid from the meek gaze of a broken-hearted mother.

However, there was one star of hope still shining in the inky black sky of his mother’s life, and that was her Catholic Faith. It told her of the power of a mother’s prayers for an erring child. She would have remembered the words of the great Saint Ambrose to another mother, St. Monica: “Woman, the child of such tears can never perish.” The child of those tears of the mourning Monica is to-day that radiant figure in the Church whom we know as St. Augustine. Mrs. Hanning’s Catholic Faith would tell her, too of another Woman, the fairest and purest of all creation, whose Mother’s heart was pierced by the seven- pointed sword of sorrow. She knew that that other Mother’s prayers were still as powerful before the face of God, as they were on that far-off day when the same God advanced the hour of wondrous power to please the Mother He loved.

Rock-like, then, in the very centre of her heaving heart, there stood the trusting faith that kept her from being overpowered by this tidal wave of disaster. The tragedy of tragedies in this vale of tears is to have never known, or to have lost, that childlike trusting faith in the power that rules our destiny.

A RENEGADE’S REMORSE

There is no need to dwell much on the misery of the unhappy youth facing the void of the world with a still greater void in his heart. Not even the fiendish delight in his vindictive heart could stifle the inevitable remorse that bitingly told him that he was that ugliest of human specimens, a renegade son. And there would have followed him, too, like the eyes of God, the haunting eyes of the mother whom alone, he undoubtedly loved.

His biographer tells us that during the next few months the fugitive lad slept under hedges, in haystacks, and in barns, earning a meal wherever he could. He soon learned the gentle art of begging at back doors and arousing the sympathy of cooks. He stole rides on hay wagons and mule cars. Above all, he walked and walked and walked. John Green Hanning was certainly being humiliated, but he was yet far, very far, from being made humble.

His type of pride actually feeds upon humiliations, and his type of heart grows harder and harder with every fresh rebuff, till you get that dangerous and much discussed psychological problem-namely, the anti-social personality, when the mind becomes a storehouse of dark and evil thoughts; very often then the well-known criminal type is evolved, whether he be anarchist or Antichrist.

At last he found his way to the Lone Star State and there, in wild Texas, down by the Rio Grande, for nine long years, John Green Hanning became lost to the world even in name. The rough riders of the prairies ask no man’s history. He was simply known as “The Kentuckian” or “Kentucky Jack,” or again, “The Quick One,” because of the volcanic temper that sent his hand to a trigger or his fist to a man’s jaw.

DOWN RIO GRANDE WAY

It was a hard life, out in all weathers, from blistering sun to biting blizzards. It was often a lonely life, riding at night in the wilds, under the silent stars. But it had its compensations. Like the outdoor life of those great Australians, who even to this day pioneer the bush, it was carefree.

It was our own poet, Paterson, who expressed it lyrically:

He sees the vision splendid

Of sunlight plains extended

At night the wondrous glory

Of the everlasting stars.

There one meets nature in the raw, rough characters, but then as true as the unpolished diamond. They sang their lilting love songs to that Mother Nature who cradled them in her chaste bosom, caressed them with her warm sun, refreshed them with the sparkling wine of her morning dews, while she returned their songs from her own choir of a thousand songsters of the bush.

Taken all in all, it was the very best type of life for a youthful prodigal. God alone knows what would have happened had he picked up a job in some big city, where the machine would have corroded a bitter heart and the doubtful entertainments that attract the lone dweller in a big city would have lured him to their iniquitous dens.

In the prairie it was all so different. Life was ever fresh and young. And so, while he grew into manhood, he never lost that gift which seems to be the natural, and even supernatural, test of greatness of character, namely, the heart of a boy.

It is our every-day experience that there is always hope for the man who has not lost his youth. Time heals many sorrows and rights many wrongs. One thing it cannot heal, and that is the gnawing hunger of an exiled heart for home, and all that it means.

It was only natural, then, that the thoughts of the lonely cowboy should sometimes turn to his old home in Kentucky. Even mere curiosity would make him wonder how were mum and dad, and brothers and sisters. The longing to see the old place, to hear again a mother’s gentle voice, would break in upon his inmost soul.

So it was only to be expected that he could stand the nostalgia no longer. Like the prodigal, he would return to his father’s home and there beg an outraged father’s forgiveness.

THE PRODIGAL’S RETURN

It is useless to describe the scene as the tumultuous joyful barking of an old favourite dog brought a wondering little grey-haired old lady to the door. There was the shock of recognition. Time seemed to stand still. It seemed as though an angel visitant had brought the answer to years of prayer. A joy probably unequalled on earth thrilled that mother’s heart. The years rolled back and life was young again, while two hungry hearts devoured a love feast. The father’s welcome was no doubt quieter, but none the less sincere and joyous, for this, a son that was lost and was found again.

A little bit of heaven had come to earth these days as brothers and sisters gathered round to hear stories of the wild life down Rio Grande way. Soon the lilt of cowboy songs was heard round the homestead. It was almost too good to be true, too happy to be lasting. Alas! Before that week was out all that note of jay was hushed and silent as if a corpse were brought into a festive hail.

This is how it happened.

Sunday morning came, and everybody in that good Catholic home made ready to share in that supreme joy of the faithful Catholic, which is nothing less than a taking part in the dread, mighty, holy mystery of faith, that lavish outpouring of divine love which is the Sacrifice of the Mass. It was then the bombshell burst that was to shatter all the joy and peace and delight of their new-found happiness. A man lay dead before their eyes. John Green Hanning had bluntly announced that he was not going to Mass that day or any other day as long as he lived, for the simple reason that he no longer believed. And that was that. The corpse at the feast was the soul of their son and brother, dead in sin.

Then, very tenderly, tearfully, came the half-sobbing voice of his mother, sounding strange in the tense silence, “John, dear, won’t you please come, just to satisfy me?” It’s a long time, you know, John, since I had you by my side in public. Please come for mysake.” Even he could not resist that appeal. He went to church, but not to pray. His sin-filled soul sneered at all that wonderful mystery of love that is for ever hidden from unbelieving eyes. He did not know that not only the heartsore mother beside him was praying, but also that the priest at the altar, speaking in the Name of the great High Priest, Jesus Christ, was offering the great sacrifice of Calvary for all sinners, particularly for all there present, and that included sneering John Green Hanning.

However, he resumed the old life on the farm with that kind of forced gaiety such as one notices in people who have abandoned the faith of their fathers and with it the innocence and love of their happy childhood. We know on the authority of God Himself that some devils are cast out of a man only by prayer and fasting. His faithful mother was doing all that. It took two major events to hasten the day when stub. . born John would kneel humbly at the feet of a priest and pour out the story of his pride and sinfulness in sincere, heartfelt sorrow.

CUPID TAKES A HAND

The first big event was the fact that John fell head, neck, and heels in love with a good Catholic girl called Mary. She was the type whose hidden greatness of soul will appear in all its grandeur only in the great day of eternity. She was definitely not one of those anaemic Catholic girls who are prepared to barter their faith for passion or auction their shallow love, in marriage, to the highest bidder. No, Mary was he kind whose very breath brings a blessing to any man. So, she told the loved, and very much loving John very plainly and very bluntly, that she was not prepared to marry any man, not even a John Green Hanning, while he was a renegade from his God. Then she proceeded to teach him some home truths, including a refresher course in the principles of the penny Catechism. And she added, just for good measure, that putting in an appearance at Mass on Sunday morning was not her idea of a good Catholic. John listened and said, meekly enough, that he understood. And so they became engaged, while John tried to come to some sort of terms with his rebellious conscience. He still went to Mass on Sunday, and still sat sullenly beside the patient, silently praying woman with the brave, undaunted smile of the true Christian mother.

GOD’S HOUR OF MERCY

Then came the other world-shattering event in his life when the patient eyes, the praying lips, and the loving heart of that much-tried mother were stilled for ever in death. As John looked his last look on that lifeless form that might have been an angel in repose, his inmost heart thundered to his scoffing mind that only a God of infinite love could create such a masterpiece of human perfection on this cold earth.

At last there burst forth the torrents of a too late regret. It was the old story of which poets have sung, “Loved in life too little, loved in death too well.” God’s hour had struck. Scoffing John Hanning’s pride was overthrown, and his stubbornness had been melted in a flood of penitent tears. He had found the bitter sweet of a true sorrow while the angels, as well as his own beloved mother, joyously celebrated one of heaven’s special feast days. For we know on the authority of God Himself that there is more joy in heaven upon one sinner doing penance than upon ninety-nine just who need not penance.

LOVE IS REPAID BY LOVE

I told you of John’s philosophy of life- always to get even. He now made up his mind to get even with God. Love is repaid by love alone, as all the saints tell us. John wanted to repay the love of God, and repay it to the very limit. It was just his way of getting even with that wondrous love that is God.

So,. one evening he gently told Mary that for some time he had been thinking of going back to his original vocation, and of giving his whole life to God as a holocaust of love in the Trappist Monastery called Gethsemani.

Of course, she laughed heartily at the very idea of explosive John in the role of meek, contemplative monk. But soon she was to realise that he was not speaking in jest. He now asked her to release him from the promise of marriage, while he went to have a try at being a monk. Like the thorough-going Catholic girl that she was, Mary readily gave the permission, though she did add these words of warning, “John, if you fail, never come back to me. I”d never be the wife of an ex-monk, no, John, not even if he were the last man in the world!”

So, to the consternation of the neighbourhood, with many shakings of the head and with many prayers and blessings, too, John entered Gethsemani Monastery in Kentucky.

I doubt if anybody who knew anything about the life of a Trappist monk could ever expect him to remain longer than a few weeks.

It was June 4, 1885; John was then thirty-six years and six months.

II

WHY THE CONTEMPLATIVE ORDERS?

It is really surprising what wrong and even foolish ideas some people have about the usefulness of the Contemplative Orders of men and women. Perhaps it will come to them as something of a shock to read these words from no less an authority than Pope Pius XI. Addressing the Carthusians the Holy Father says that “it is easy to understand how they who assiduously fulfil the duty of prayer and penance contribute much more to the increase of the church and the welfare of mankind than those who labour in the tilling of the Master’s field. For unless the former drew down from heaven a shower of graces, divine graces, to water the field that is being tilled, the evangelical labourers would indeed reap from their toil a more scanty crop.”

In other words, all supernatural fruitfulness depends on prayer and sacrifice. Hence, those who measure a man’s worth merely by the amount of external activity he displayed have not the standards of God. They are shocked by the waste of young lives, often with brilliant talents, being buried as they say, in a Contemplative Order. They imagine they could do so much good in other active Communities, as teachers, nurses or missionaries. Unfortunately, such people have learned nothing from the Gospel story of the woman who poured out abox of precious ointment on our Lord’s feet while the earthly minded Judas lamented the loss to the poor. They find it easy to understand the charity of the busy Martha, but they cannot grasp the idea of the still greater love of Mary seated beside Him, not even when Jesus assures us that “Mary hath chosen the better part.”

The same lesson of the fruitfulness of the Contemplative Vocation has been brought home to us in our own day by the life-story of the Saint Therese of Lisieux-The Little Flower of Jesus. It is not without a very Providential design that she has been given to our restless, turbulent, materialistic age as a model and Patroness of the toiling Missionaries. Now what was the secret of her life? I think you will find it in the following lines taken from her autobiography:

“Their loss is gain who all forsake To find Thy love O Jesus mine For Thee my ointment jar I break The fragrance of my life is Thine.”

At a very early age she understood deeply St. Paul’s teaching on the nature of the Chri stian Church. She grasped the fundamental fact that the Church is not a mere gathering of individuals professing a common faith and working for a common end. No! It is something far more wonderful than that. It is the Mystic Body of Christ-a real living organism made up of the countless millions of baptized souls vitally united with the real physical Christ as its Head-in some such way as the members of the human body, hands, feet, eyes, etc., are united to form one living organism drawing their power of life and movement from a common source. We know that what affects one member of the human body has repercussions on the other members. If one member suffers injury, the other members come to its assistance. So, only in much more wonderful way in the Church, we are members of one living organism bound to the Head Jesus Christ. With Him, and through Him, we share in a common life that unites us, even in this world, to the Blessed Trinity Itself. All this follows from those soul-stirring words of Our Lard in the fifteenth chapter of St.John’s Gospel, where He says: “Abide in Me, and I in you. As the branch cannot bear fruit of itself unless it abide in the vine, so neither can you, unless you abide in Me. I am the vine; you are the branches; he that abideth in Me, and I in him, the same beareth much fruit; for without Me you can do nothing.” In the same chapter He comforts us with these astounding words that should be deeply engraved on the mind and heart of every Christian:

“If any man love Me he “will keep My word, and My Father will love him, and We will come to him and We will make our abode with him.”

Two very important truths flow from this doctrine, namely, that our personal lives have a hidden, though very serious effect on the well-being of the whole mystic Body of Christ. We can hurt our fellowmembers by our sins and our consequent bad example. On the other hand, ours is the great privilege, given to the very least of us, of being able to contribute in a very wonderful measure to its growth and perfection by our prayers and good works. Moreover, many who are incapable or unwilling to help themselves can by God’s mercy be helped by other members of the body. Hence, over and above the life of prayer and exterior activity of some Orders you have, as Pope Pius XI pointed out to the Carthusians, the very necessary, very fruitful, though very hidden, work of the Contemplative Orders of men and women.

Of course we must bear in mind that what is written here applies equally to all individual contemplative men and women in the world. Only the great day of judgment will reveal the fruitfulness of those thou sands of hidden souls who, by cooperation with God’s Grace, have been enabled to combine a life of wondrous prayer with their duties in the home, in the office, and in the factory.

The Religious community into which John Green Hanning now sought admission was a Contemplative one. They are known as Trappists and can trace their rule back fifteen hundred years. It is very interesting to note its cradle was none other than the famous Monastery of Monte Cassino in Italy, now bombed to ruins by the advance of a “civilization” that is too ignorant and materialistic to appreciate the meaning and necessity of so sacred a shrine.

THE LOST BATTALION

“Members of the Lost Battalion” is a name given to Trappist monks. They are lost forever to the world and its ways. Of course, the world thinks they are mad. It is a blessed madness, though indeed, as the biographer of John Green Hanning points out, we hear of film stars, and financiers, and other worldly successful men going mad, but we do not find madness in a Trappist Monastery. No man who is content can go mad.

John Hanning now lost even his name. Henceforth he is to be known as Brother Mary Joachim. He will discard even his worldly clothes for the rough brown robe of a Trappist lay-Brother. This change of name and garment is to symbolise, and be a help to, the far greater change that must go on within his inmost soul if he is to become in reality a monk, a man living alone with the great God, a close follower and intimate personal friend of his Master and Model, Jesus Christ.

A DAY IN A TRAPPIST MONASTERY

It was certainly a new and strange world for the ex-fire bug, the ex-rider of the plains, the ex-scoffer at God and at all religious belief.

His day now began at what you might call the ungodly hour of 2 A.M. Holy Mass and prayer occupied him for two hours. To make matters more difficult he now had to begin the long-drawn-out process of learning the art of praying without the help of a: prayer book; in fact, without the use of words. It would take a good deal of the oil of grace before the rusty hinges of his mind would work smoothly and throw open the gates leading to that inner knowledge, that subtle touch of the Holy Spirit, which alone is perfect prayer and is the reward of the faithful, patiently-seeking soul.

Indeed his very first lessons in acquiring the art of prayer began by the practice of two simple everyday forms of devotion, namely, The Rosary, and the Way of the Cross. The Rosary, often called the Layman’s Breviary, taught him the long forgotten story of the life of Christ; while it bound him with a golden chain to the Queen of Heaven. Meditation on the way of the Cross brought home to him the great truths of the enormity of sin, the infinity of God’s love for each one of us, while it reminded him of the necessity to carry the Cross daily in imitation of Christ.

But all that would not happen in a day or a week or a year. Actually, it would be the growth of a lifetime. Meanwhile, our Brother had to struggle against wandering thoughts and his own turbulent and untutored nature. Naturally, the habits of a lifetime would break in upon his solitude, and he would often find himself wandering in imagination down the Rio Grande, reliving the scenes of cowboy days and wondering how it fared with all his late companions.

So it would be something of a relief, at least in the beginning, when at 4 A.M. it was time to go out to the fields and, with some forty-five other lay-Brothers,. turn his thoughts to the very elemental work of milking the Monastery cows. At five, still A.M., he found that a cup of coffee and a piece of bread did duty for a breakfast. Then once more he was away to the fields till ten-thirty, when a halfhour’s prayer and spiritual reading brought him to eleven o‘clock, and to the first full meal of the day, which was dinner. There was no meat, no eggs, no fish. There was a large serving of soup, with plenty of bread and vegetables. He was yet to learn that it would be the same menu even on Christmas Day. Midday brought an hour’s welcome rest on his plank bed. At one P.M. he listened to a lecture or instruction from the Master of Novices. Here he was initiated to the thousand and one practices and ceremonies of which the outer world knows absolutely nothing, but which help to mould the man into the monk. There were more prayers, and he was off again to the farm till five P.M. Supper was served at six, after which came night prayers and repose. Then came the last act of the long day, when white-robed priests and brown-habited Brothers filed like so many ghosts along the silent cloisters to the dimly-lit Monastery Choir or Church, and there, with bowed head, many of them hoary with the years, they burst into a flame of song that was their last tribute to the Queen of Heaven as they chanted the “Salve Regina,” Hail Holy Queen. Soon Brother Joachim’s sweet tenor voice was heard above the rest as he came at night to serenade, with chivalrous love, the Lady who had now become the Queen of his heart. As the last words echoed into a silence deeper than the tomb, one by one, the ghost-like figures moved along to their poor cells.

Ii had been a long day, a full day, and, of course, a happy day, of eighteen hours of prayer and work, and so Brother Joachim was glad when he could lay his healthily weary body down to rest and sleep the refreshing, dreamless sleep of the just.

One thing about his long day worth noting is that outside the time of prayer and instruction not once did he hear the sound of a human voice. All his needs were expressed in the sign language, that has been perfected during twelve centuries of Cistercian life. No wonder people had expressed doubts as to the ability of the fiery Kentuckian to stand the pace of the long years ahead, with no holidays, and no pay, save that which is above all earth’s greatest rewards-namely, the knowledge that one’s life is being burned out for the glory of God like a holy candle, lit before a sacred shrine, and, with it, “the peace that surpasseth all understanding.”

THE HABIT DOES NOT MAKE THE MONK

However, that peace does not come easily, even to those who enter a monastery. Hence, we shall miss the whole beauty and meaning of the hidden years if we do not see behind the exterior life of our monk to the hidden struggle that must take place within the soul of every man who would aspire to the summit of spiritual perfection. It is easy enough to leave the world and put on the habit of a monk. It is quite another matter to leave behind one’s self, to rule those treacherous impulses to evil that are in the heart of every one of us.

Besides, after the initial fervour of conversion there comes the inevitable day of trial, when old habits of thought and feeling re-assert themselves. Then, to add to the trials, prayer loses its sweetness and becomes dry and difficult. We have the authority of Our Lord in the Gospel to warn us that when the evil spirit has been driven out of a man he takes seven other spirits more wicked than himself and returns, so that the last state of that man is made worse than the first. Brother Joachim was now made to realise the truth of the old saying, that “the habit does not make the monk.” To his amazement and dismay he found that he still had the terrible temper that set fire to his father’s tobacco barns.

He was to have many a humiliating fall from grace before he could emerge captain of his soul. For example, there was the day when something or another roused him to fury, and he actually went for a pitch fork with which to avenge some fancied wrong, done by a fellow-novice. The good old Father Abbot, Dom Benedict, was too skilled a director of souls, and too shrewd a psychologist not to realise that he was dealing with a quiescent volcano, so he tried by every known strategy to break and mould our Brother to become a strong man of Christ. He laid penance after penance upon Brother Joachim for every fresh outburst. Every mistake was a golden opportunity to teach humility to this fire-eater. It happened that on one occasion when Joachim was sent to help in the kitchen, where the meals for guests were prepared, he was told to bake some meat slowly. He did, very slowly. He baked it for four days before he remembered. Of course, he had to go along and acknowledge his fault. Here is how it is described by his biographer:

“What is it?” snapped the Abbot

“Meat,” snapped back Joachim.

“It doesn’t look like it,” growled the Abbot.

“I burned it,” growled Joachim.

“Eat it,” barked the Abbot.

Joachim was silent. He looked up at the Abbot, then down at the mess that was like greasy charcoal, then up at the Abbot again. After a moment, he got up from his knees, and, as he was bowing to the Abbot, managed to squeeze out between tightly closed teeth, “Yes, Reverend Father.” It took him a full six months to eat the mess,. but eat it he did, every shred of it. Expert training surely for a man with a homicidal temper.

THE VOLCANO ERUPTS

But there was one day that led almost to complete disaster, and nearly ruined all the good work. That day the good Father Abbot overdid things a bit. It happened that Joachim had not had an outburst for some time, and Dom Benedict knew he would be inclined to feel too secure, so he was determined to find something with which to test his patience.

It came along soon enough when Joachim was shaving the Abbot, who had had a stroke. The Abbot was picking at him more than usual, noting this fault and that, and digging up every trifle. He did not notice that Joachim was getting redder and redder, and that a dangerous fire was flashing from Southern eyes. At last, the storm broke. Joachim, holding the open razor within an inch of the Abbot’s throat, half shouted, “Say one word more and I”11 slash you from ear to ear.” Not one word more did the terrified Father Abbot speak while Joachim stamped out of the room. It might have been the end had he had a less understanding Abbot, and had he not returned within a short time to kneel a very penitent and humbled man to ask forgiveness and a heavy penance. But that day Joachim did not get even. Very gently Dom Benedict said, “Brother, for your penance this time you will go to Holy Communion in the morning.” The greatness of soul displayed by the Abbot finished his training in humility.

LOVE PURIFIES

During all this spiritual struggle two things stood to our trainee monk. The first was a deep conviction that told him he had been a great sinner, and that he needed a lot of penance to atone for the past. The other asset was a growing love for God in the person of Jesus Christ. Long hours of meditation on the sorrows, humiliations, and sufferings of the Son of God kindled a corresponding love in his own heart, as Joachim realised, what we all too often forget, that Jesus suffered all these things for him. Then there was the daily union of his soul with the same Jesus in the Sacrament of love, the Holy Eucharist. So, as he went out to the fields he brought in the solitude of his soul the words and example of the Son of God, and he soon learned to see in his humble toil of a lay-Brother the same work that had been transformed into prayer by the touch of the Carpenter of Nazareth. He was being trained to see what we in the world too often forget-namely, that each act of the day is, as it were, a Sacrament uniting us with Christ. In the neat phrase used by his biographer, Brother Joachim was learning that “The spiritual life is not something but somebody.”

Here is where it is possible for each of us to become genuine Contemplatives, if we only realised that no matter what our daily occupation is, no matter how exacting our routine, or distracting our activity, we still can, with a little extra thought and care, achieve, as John Hanning did, a very delightful intimacy with God in the very midst of our worldly duties.

Cardinal Newman, with characteristic clarity, sums up this question of sanctity in the midst of worldly occupations in these enlightening words: “It is difficult,” he says, “to realise both truths at once, and to connect both truths together; steadily to contemplate the life to come, yet to act in this. . . . But it is possible to do all things whatever we are about to God’s glory; we may do all things heartily, as to the Lord, and not to man, being both active yet meditative. . . . The true Christian will feel that the true contemplation of that Saviour lies in his worldly business; that as Christ is seen in the poor, and in the persecuted, and in children, so is He seen in the employments he puts upon his chosen whatever they be; that in attending to his own calling he will be meeting Christ; that if he neglect it he will not on that account enjoy His presence at all the more, but while performing it he will see Christ revealed to his soul amid the ordinary actions of the day, as by a sort of Sacrament. Thus he will take his worldly business as a gift from Him and will love it as such. . . . The highest Christian of all is he whose heart is so set on things above, that things below as little excite, agitate, unsettle, distress, and seduce him as they stop the course of nature, as they stop the sun and moon, or change Summer and Winter.”

LOVE TRANSFORMS

It was no wonder, then, that his soul deepened and his inmost character underwent a great transformation. And, with it, would grow an ever-deepening peace. His outbursts of temper became fewer and his heavenly consolations more numerous. The “old man” was fast dying, and the “new man” was being born. The grain of wheat in the ground was corrupting, so that the new corn, the wheat of Christ, might be fashioned into a host fit for heaven.

Only God Himself can tell what wonders of grace go on within the sanctuary of a soul when long years of prayer and penance have made pure and perfect the living temple of God. Often such a humble, purified soul is given, while still in this vale of tears, a foretaste of the perfect peace and unalterable joy of the Blessed.

One little incident of his closing years gives a glimpse of his hidden relationship with God. On one of the rare occasions when a visit of a relative was permitted, his two sisters called to the Monastery bringing a little baby in arms, who was just then recovering from pneumonia. It happened that while they were walking some distance from the Monastery gate, quite suddenly, the hot summer’s day broke into a torrential downpour of rain. Imagine the terror of the sister for her little babe. Brother Joachimtook the little baby, saying, “Don’t worry. Give me the baby and you two run. You are going to get soaked. Lester and I will come after. He will not get wet.” The sisters ran, but they got well and truly soaked. A few minutes later, to their utter amazement, along sauntered the laughing Joachim in the midst of the terrible downpour, with the baby nestling in his arms, and not a drop of water had fallen on either him or the child. It was too much for the baby’s mother, “Jack, Jack,” she cried, “he’s dry!” Her brother’s laughing comment was, “You women make me sick. Haven’t you got any faith? Of course he’s dry. Didn’t I tell you he wouldn’t get wet?” And as his sister was now crying tears of joy for the holiness of her brother, and for the safety of her child, Joachim mockingly said, “A fine mother you are. I save the child from a downpour and now you drench him with your tears.” So he laughed off the miracle, as such it undoubtedly was.

Twenty years of such a life seems a long time. But viewed from the standpoint of eternity, as Joachim was taught to measure things, they seemed a mere nothing. Where men who measure a man’s greatness by the gold standard saw just a brown-robed lay-Brother, the angels of God saw a masterpiece of grace in the making. All he himself knew was an ever-increasing longing to behold forever the God Whose love was daily growing stronger within him. For those who live as he did death comes in gay attire, holding in her friendly hand an invitation to a banquet that will never end. For his type the day of death is the grandest day of all life. Then will begin the real life, for which man was created, and for which he must forever crave.

A SOLITARY SPEAKS

And now, perhaps, you would like to pass a few brief minutes in his company, and hear this solitary, so near to God, speak his inmost heart. Here, then, are some gems of thought that enriched his letters to his family.

HIS VIEWS ON RELIGIOUS LIFE

To one of his sisters who sought his opinion on a religious vocation, he wrote as follows: “I always bear you in my heart and in a special manner in my prayers, Holy Communions, etc., pleading with our dear Lord to bless you; but I never dreamed of the extraordinary grace that you mention. It would be the greatest blessing, honour and dignity you could receive. To become spouse of Christ, queen of heaven,, and mother of God are dignities beyond expression. And you would become all three: spouse, because betrothed to Him by the vows of poverty, chastity and obedience; Queen of heaven, because the spouse of the King is Queen; mother of God, because you cause Him to be born in the hearts and souls of others by your prayers and good works. . . . If you only knew the great dignity to which Our Lord has called you, you would need no counsel. . . . Experience alone can teach the great peace of soul the religious life gives during life; and its assurance of a happy death. Out of a community of about seventy who were here when I came, there are only three left. I have seen many of them die, and all died sweetly. All were aged men. The youngest of the three is about seventy years of age, and is perfectly blind (perhaps you think I am, too, for I am writing in the dark), but he is perfectly happy. He has become familiar with the Monastery, and can go where he pleases; besides, in such a large community there is always someone ready to give him special attention. He is cared for like a tender mother would care for her child; for charity, brotherly love, is one of the virtues we hold most dear. He had splendid sight when I came, but he has become blind of late years. He is a priest, and says Mass daily; I often serve him. I am not allowed to speak to him, but I will have you remembered in his prayers and “mementos.” I speak of him that you might contrast his life with what it would be in the world, where everyone is seeking pleasure and flying from cares and trouble. As I have said, brotherly and sisterly love is one of the chief virtues of a religious, and to assist one another in bearing his cross is a delight. But how different it is in the world! Besides its many dangers of sin, let one become dependent and life becomes insupportable.”

THE VALUE OF SUFFERING

“Sorrow,” he writes, “is the substance of man a natural life. But as under every stone there is moisture, so under every sorrow there is joy. Sorrow is but the minister of joy. We dig into the bosom of sorrow and find the gold and precious stones of joy. Sorrow is a consideration of time, but joy is the condition of eternity. .

Life is but a dream, eternity an everlasting reality of happiness or suffering. . . . Never be discouraged, against all your trials battle bravely for the joys which await you; for you have a place in the Sacred Heart of Jesus, and He has prepared a throne for you in heaven, the beauty and splendour of which infinitely surpasses the conception of man. I am so happy that I cannot express my joys.”

THOUGHTS ON THE MASS

In another letter he gives the following very beautiful expression to his thoughts on the Mass: “Tempestuous oceans and towering mountains, murmuring brooks and silent valleys, dark forests and smiling plains, fields of waving corn and blooming meadows, singing birds and roaring lions, the earth clothed in its floral beauty, the cerulean hue and bright sunbeams of the firmament, the flying clouds and the majestic, rolling thunder, the vivid lightning and the mysterious, quiet reflection of the nightly world of stars and beyond the stars-there, “the abode of the blessed with their candles of praise, and the angels, those indescribably beautiful exalted spirits, those morning stars and first fruits of creation, those princes of heaven, whose brightness outshines and dims all earthly splendour, as the sun eclipses the stars- and, finally, the Virgin Mother of God, the glorious Queen of angels and saints, from whose pure heart issues, and shall issue forth, the ecstatic, joyous chant of the “MAGNIFICAT”. . . . all these in united praises cannot render to God the glory of one single Mass! Yes, one single Mass procures God more glory and praise than all the worship of all the citizens of heaven and earth can offer Him throughout eternity.”

The man who wrote those words had certainly travelled a long way on the spiritual road from the day when he sneered and scoffed at the same Holy Mass.

A LAST LETTER

And here is one of his very last letters, written on January 18, 1908, just three months before his death: “My dear Little Sister,- “I am in possession of your letter of the 8th inst., and feel so thankful to God that you are cheerful and contented. Earth becomes a paradise to one who is perfectly conformed to the holy will of God. Cultivate a great love for this virtue in your heart, and you will experience a joy which hitherto you have not known. Everyone has to suffer in this world, but, Oh how sweet it is to suffer for One Whom we love.

When once you have tasted the sweetness of this divine love, you cannot afterwards be contented without it. It is the only true happiness that we can have. Others may seem to be happy and joyous, but, if you could read the secret of their hearts, you would judge quite otherwise. Therefore, try to win them to love and serve God; for their trials depress them, and not knowing how to suffer for the One Whom they should love,, they are rendered miserable and deserve compassion. Thus your work will become like that of an angel, or, rather, like that of Jesus Christ Himself. Through the hours of the day, from the pearly dawn until the starry night, and through the quiet watches of the night, in heartfelt prayer I am pleading with sweet Jesus through His Blessed Mother, for my dear brothers and sisters and all their families-all of whom are His treasures and whom He loves with an eternal love-to the end that we may praise His Holy Name and share His joys in heaven. Continue to frequent Communion; it will be your greatest comfort in life and at the hour of death. Nourish your precious soul with It, for It is infinitely more necessary than is food for the body. Kiss dear Josie and Sim and all their family, and Ella, little Babe, and John for me. I pray for you and all your good intentions. With a heart full of love for each and every one of you.-Lovingly,

“BROTHER JOACHIM

“P.S.- I become more and more happy every day. It is my opinion that life will soon end for me in this world.”

The man who wrote that letter had sounded the hidden depths of divine love, and even of human love, too. All his letters breathe the same note of joy and happiness and perfect peace.

His intuition was correct. Death was near. It came, peacefully, after a brief illness, on Thursday, April 30, 1908. Trappists need no coffins. They who live so close to Mother Nature are quite content to have their poor bodies laid on the pure brown earth. And so, in the quiet graveyard of Gethsemani Abbey, near his old Kentucky home, the ex-fire bug, the ex-rough rider of the plains, the ex-scoffer of the Mass, awaits the Resurrection.

Meanwhile, a wondering world is fascinated by the story of his life, and many will tell you of the seemingly miraculous answers to the prayers addressed to him in heaven.

Nihil obstat: P. JONES, Censor Deputatus.

Imprimatur:

@ DANIEL MANNIX, Archiepiscopus Melbournensis 1943

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The Martyrdom of Saint Perpetua And Felicitas, With Their Companions

REV. ALBAN BUTLER

INDEX

A violent persecution being set on foot by the emperor Severus, in 202, it reached Africa the following year; when, by order of Minutius Timinianus, (or Firminianus,) five catechumens were apprehended at Carthage for the faith: namely, Revocatus, and his fellow-slave Felicitas, Saturninus, and Secundulus, and Vibia Perpetua. Felicitas was seven months gone with child; and Perpetua had an infant at her breast, was of a good family, twenty-two years of age, and married to a person of quality in the city. She had a father, a mother, and two brothers; the third, Dinocrates, died about seven years old. These five martyrs were joined by Saturus, probably brother to Saturninus, and who seems to have been their instructor: he underwent a voluntary imprisonment, because he would not abandon them. The father of St. Perpetua, who was a pagan, and advanced in years, loved her more than all his other children. Her mother was probably a Christian, as was one of her brothers, the other a catechumen. The martyrs were for some days before their commitment kept under a strong guard in a private house: and the account Perpetua gives of their sufferings to the eve of their death, is as follows: “We were in the hands of our persecutors, when my father, out of the affection he bore me, made new efforts to shake my resolution. I said to him: “Can that vessel, which you see, change its name?” He said: “No.” I replied: “Nor can I call myself any other than I am, that is to say, a Christian.” At that word my father in a rage fell upon me, as if he would have pulled my eyes out, and beat me: but went away in confusion, seeing me invincible: after this we enjoyed a little repose, and in that interval received baptism. The Holy Ghost, on our coming out of the water, inspired me to pray for nothing but patience under corporal pains. A few days after this we were put into prison: I was shocked at the horror and darkness of the place, for till then I knew not what such sort of places were. We suffered much that day, chiefly on account of the great heat caused by the crowd, and the ill-treatment we met with from the soldiers. I was moreover tortured with concern, for that I had not my infant. But the deacons, Tertius and Pomponius, who assisted us, obtained, by money, that we might pass some hours in a more commodious part of the prison to refresh ourselves. My infant being brought to me almost famished, I gave it the breast. I recommended him afterwards carefully to my mother, and encouraged my brother, but was much afflicted to see their concern for me. After a few days my sorrow was changed into comfort, and my prison itself seemed agreeable. One day my brother said to me: “Sister, I am persuaded that you are a peculiar favorite of Heaven: pray to God to reveal to you whether this imprisonment will end in martyrdom or not, and acquaint me of it.” I, knowing God gave me daily tokens of his goodness, answered, full of confidence, “I will inform you tomorrow.” I therefore asked that favor of God, and had this vision. I saw a golden ladder which reached from earth to the heavens; but so narrow, that only one could mount it at a time. To the two sides were fastened all sorts of iron instruments, as swords, lances, hooks, and knives; so that if any one went up carelessly he was in great danger of having his flesh torn by those weapons. At the foot of the ladder lay a dragon of an enormous size, who kept guard to turn back and terrify those that endeavored to mount it. The first that went up was Saturus, who was not apprehended with us, but voluntarily surrendered himself afterwards on our account: when he was got to the top of the ladder, he turned towards me and said: “Perpetua, I wait for you; but take care lest the dragon bite you.” I answered: “In the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, he shall not hurt me.” Then the dragon, as if afraid of me, gently lifted his head from under the ladder, and I, having got upon the first step, set my foot upon his head. Thus I mounted to the top, and there I saw a garden of an immense space, and in the middle of it a tall man sitting down dressed like a shepherd, having white hair. He was milking his sheep, surrounded with many thousands of persons clad in white. He called me by my name, bid me welcome, and gave me some curds made of the milk which he had drawn: I put my hands together and took and ate them; and all that were present said aloud, Amen. The noise awaked me, chewing something very sweet. As soon as I had related to my brother this vision, we both concluded that we should suffer death.

“After some days, a rumor being spread that we were to be examined, my father came from the city to the prison overwhelmed with grief: “Daughter,” said he, “have pity on my gray hairs, have compassion on your father, if I yet deserve to be called your father; if I myself have brought you up to this age: if you consider that my extreme love of you, made me always prefer you to all your brothers, make me not a reproach to mankind. Have respect for your mother and your aunt; have compassion on your child that cannot survive you; lay aside this resolution, this obstinacy, lest you ruin us all: for not one of us will dare open his lips any more if any misfortune befall you.” He took me by the hands at the same time and kissed them; he threw himself at my feet in tears, and called me no longer daughter, but, my lady. I confess, I was pierced with sharp sorrow when I considered that my father was the only person of our family that would not rejoice at my martyrdom. I endeavored to comfort him, saying: “Father, grieve not; nothing will happen but what pleases God; for we are not at our own disposal.” He then departed very much concerned. The next day, while we were at dinner, a person came all on a sudden to summon us to examination. The report of this was soon spread, and brought together a vast crowd of people into the audience-chamber. We were placed on a sort of scaffold before the judge, who was Hilarian, procurator of the province, the proconsul being lately dead. All who were interrogated before me confessed boldly Jesus Christ. When it came to my turn, my father instantly appeared with my infant. He drew me a little aside, conjuring me in the most tender manner not to be insensible to the misery I should bring on that innocent creature to which I had given life. The president Hilarian joined with my father, and said: “What! will neither the gray hairs of a father you are going to make miserable, nor the tender innocence of a child, which your death will leave an orphan, move you? Sacrifice for the prosperity of the emperor.” I replied, “I will not do it.” “Are you then a Christian?” said Hilarian. I answered: “Yes, I am.” As my father attempted to draw me from the scaffold, Hilarian commanded him to be beaten off, and he had a blow given him with a stick, which I felt as much as if I had been struck myself; so much was I grieved to see my father thus treated in his old age. Then the judge pronounced our sentence, by which we were all condemned to be exposed to wild beasts. We then joyfully returned to our prison; and as my infant had been used to the breast, I immediately sent Pomponius, the deacon, to demand him of my father, who refused to send him. And God so ordered it that the child no longer required to suck, nor did my milk incommode me.” Secundulus, being no more mentioned, seems to have died in prison before this interrogatory. Before Hilarian pronounced sentence, he had caused Saturus, Saturninus, and Revocatus, to be scourged; and Perpetua and Felicitas to be beaten on the face. They were reserved for the shows which were to be exhibited for the soldiers in the camp, on the festival of Geta, who had been made Caesar four years before by his father Severus, when his brother Caracalla was created Augustus. St. Perpetua relates another vision with which she was favored, as follows: “A few days after receiving sentence, when we were all together in prayer, I happened to name Dinocrates, at which I was astonished, because I had not before had him in my thoughts; and I that moment knew that I ought to pray for him. This I began to do with great fervor and sighing before God; and the same night I had the following vision: I saw Dinocrates coming out of a dark place, where there were many others, exceeding hot and thirsty; his face was dirty, his complexion pale, with the ulcer in his face of which he died at seven years of age, and it was for him that I had prayed. There seemed a great distance between him and me, so that it was impossible for us to come to each other. Near him stood a vessel full of water, whose brim was higher than the statue of an infant: he attempted to drink, but though he had water he could not reach it. This mightily grieved me, and I awoke. By this I knew my brother was in pain, but I trusted I could by prayer relieve him: so I began to pray for him, beseeching God with tears, day and night, that he would grant me my request; as I continued to do till we were removed to the damp prison: being destined for a public show on the festival of Caesar Geta. The day we were in the stocks I had this vision: I saw the place, which I had beheld dark before, now luminous; and Dinocrates, with his body very clean and well clad, refreshing himself, and instead of his wound a scar only. I awoke, and I knew he was relieved from his pain.

“Some days after, Pudens, the officer who comman ded the guards of the prison, seeing that God favored us with many gifts, had a great esteem of us, and admitted many people to visit us for our mutual comfort. On the day of the public shows my father came to find me out, overwhelmed with sorrow. He tore his beard, he threw himself prostrate on the ground, cursed his years, and said enough to move any creature; and I was ready to die with sorrow to see my father in so deplorable a condition. On the eve of the shows I was favored with the following vision. The deacon Pomponius, methought, knocked very hard at the prison-door, which I opened to him. He was clothed with a white robe, embroidered with innumerable pomegranates of gold. He said to me: “Perpetua, we wait for you, come along.” He then took me by the hand and led me through very rough places into the middle of the amphitheatre, and said: “Fear not.” And, leaving me, said again: “I will be with you in a moment, and bear a part with you in your pains.” I was wondering the beasts were not let out against us, when there appeared a very ill-favored Egyptian, who came to encounter me with others. But another beautiful troop of young men declared for me, and anointed me with oil for the combat. Then appeared a man of prodigious stature, in rich apparel, having a wand in his hand like the masters of the gladiators, and a green bough on which hung golden apples. Having ordered silence, he said that the bough should be my prize, if I vanquished the Egyptian: but that if he conquered me, he should kill me with a sword. After a long and obstinate engagement, I threw him on his face, and trod upon his head. The people applauded my victory with loud acclamations. I then approached the master of the amphitheatre, who gave me the bough with a kiss, and said: “Peace bewith you, my daughter.” After this I awoke, and found that I was not so much to combat with wild beasts as with the devils.” Here ends the relation of St. Perpetua.

St. Saturus had also a vision which he wrote himself. He and his companions were conducted by a bright angel into a most delightful garden, in which they met some holy martyrs lately dead, namely, Jocundus, Saturninus, and Artaxius, who had been burned alive for the faith, and Quintus, who died in prison. They inquired after other martyrs of their acquaintance, say the acts, and were conducted into a most stately place, shining like the sun: and in it saw the king of this most glorious place surrounded by his happy subjects, and heard a voice composed of many, which continually cried: “Holy, holy, holy.” Saturus, turning to Perpetua, said: “You have here what you desired.” She replied: “God be praised, I have more joy here than ever I had in the flesh.” He adds, Going out of the garden they found before the gate, on the right hand, their bishop of Carthage, Optatus, and on the left, Aspasius, priest of the same church, both of them alone and sorrowful. They fell at the martyr’s feet, and begged they would reconcile them together, for a dissension had happened between them. The martyrs embraced them, saving: “Are not you our bishop, and you a priest of our Lord? It is our duly to prostrate ourselves before you.” Perpetua was discoursing with them; but certain angels came and drove hence Optatus and Aspasius; and bade them not to disturb the martyrs, but be reconciled to each other. The bishop Optatus was also charged to heal the divisions that reigned among several of his church. The angels, after these reprimands, seemed ready to shut the gates of the garden. “Here,” says he, “we saw many of our brethren and martyrs likewise. We were fed with an ineffable odor, which delighted and satisfied us.” Such was the vision of Saturus. The rest of the acts were added by an eye-witness. God had called to himself Secondulus in prison. Felicitas was eight months gone with child, and as the day of the shows approached, she was inconsolable lest she should not be brought to bed before it came; fearing that her martyrdom would be deferred on that account, because women with child were not allowed to be executed before they were delivered: the rest also were sensibly afflicted on their part to leave her alone in the road to their common hope. Wherefore they unanimously joined in prayer to obtain of God that she might be delivered against the shows. Scarce had they finished their prayer, when Felicitas found herself in labor. She cried out under the violence of her pain: one of the guards asked her, if she could not bear the throes of childbirth without crying out, what she would do when exposed to the wild beasts. She answered: “It is I that suffer what I now suffer; but then there will be another in me that will suffer for me, because I shall suffer for him.” She was then delivered of a daughter, which a certain Christian woman took care of, and brought up as her own child. The tribune, who had the holy martyrs in custody, being informed by some persons of little credit, that the Christians would free themselves out of prison by some magic enchantments, used them the more cruelly on that account, and forbade any to see them. Thereupon Perpetua said to him: “Why do you not afford us some relief, since we are condemned by Caesar, and destined to combat at his festival? Will it not be to your honor that we appear well fed?” At this the tribune trembled and blushed, and ordered them to be used with more humanity, and their friends to be admitted to see them. Pudens, the keeper of the prison, being already converted, secretly did them all the good offices in his power. The day before they suffered they gave them, according to custom, their last meal, which was called a free supper” and they ate in public. But the martyrs did their utmost to change it into an Agape, or Love-feast. Their chamber was full of people, whom they talked to with their usual resolution, threatening them with the judgments of God, and extolling the happiness of their own sufferings. Saturus smiling at the curiosity of those that came to see them, said to them, “Will not tomorrow suffice to satisfy your inhuman curiosity in our regard? However you may seem now to pity us, tomorrow you will clap your hands at our death, and applaud our murderers. But observe well our faces, that you may know them again at that terrible day when all men shall be judged.” They spoke with such courage and intrepidity, as astonished the infidels, and occasioned the conversion of several among them.

The day of their triumph being come, they went out of the prison to go to the amphitheatre. Joy sparkled in their eyes, and appeared in all their gestures and words. Perpetua walked with a composed countenance and easy pace, as a woman cherished by Jesus Christ, with her eyes modestly cast down: Felicitas went with her, following the men, not able to contain her joy. When they came to the gate of the amphitheatre the guards would have given them, according to custom, the superstitious habits with which they adorned such as appeared at these sights. For the men, a red mantle, which was the habit of the priests of Saturn: for the women, a little fillet round the head, by which the priestesses of Ceres were known. The martyrs rejected those idolatrous ceremonies; and, by the mouth of Perpetua, said, they came thither of their own accord on the promise made them that they should not be forced to any thing contrary to their religion. The tribune then consented that they might appear in the amphitheatre habited as they were. Perpetua sung, as being already victorious; Revocatus, Saturninus, and Saturus threatened the people that beheld them with the judgments of God: and as they passed over against the balcony of Hilarian, they said to him; “You judge us in this world, but God will judge you in the next.” The people, enraged at their boldness, begged they might be scourged, which was granted. They accordingly passed before the Venatores, or hunters, each of whom gave them a lash. They rejoiced exceedingly in being thought worthy to resemble our Saviour in his sufferings. God granted to each of them the death they desired; for when they were discoursing together about what kind of martyrdom would be agreeable to each, Saturninus declared that he would choose to be exposed to beasts of several sorts in order to the aggravation of his sufferings. Accordingly he and Revocatus, after having been attacked by a leopard, were also assaulted by a bear. Saturus dreaded nothing so much as a bear, and therefore hoped a leopard would dispatch him at once with his teeth. He was then exposed to a wild boar, hut the beast turned upon his keeper, who received such a wound from him that he died in a few days after, and Saturus was only dragged along by him. Then they tied the martyr to the bridge near a bear, but that beast came not out of his lodge, so that Saturus, being sound and not hurt, was called upon for a second encounter. This gave him an opportunity of speaking to Pudens, the jailer that had been converted. The martyr encouraged him to constancy in the faith, and said to him: “You see I have not yet been hurt by any beast, as I desired and foretold; believe then steadfastly in Christ; I am going where you will see a leopard with one bite take away my life.” It happened so, for a leopard being let out upon him, covered him all over with blood, whereupon the people jeering, cried out, “He is well baptized.” The martyr said to Pudens, “Go, remember my faith, and let our sufferings rather strengthen than trouble you. Give me the ring you have on your finger.” Saturus, having dipped it in his wound, gave it him back to keep as a pledge to animate him to a constancy in his faith, and fell down dead soon after. Thus he went first to glory to wait for Perpetua, according to her vision. Some with Mabillon, (1) think this Prudens is the martyr honored in Africa, on the 29th of April.

In the meantime, Perpetua and Felicitas had been exposed to a wild cow; Perpetua was first attacked, and the cow having tossed her up, she fell on her back. Then putting herself in a sitting posture, and perceiving her clothes were torn, she gathered them about her in the best manner she could, to cover herself, thinking more of decency than her sufferings. Getting up, not to seem disconsolate, she tied up her hair, which was fallen loose, and perceiving Felicitas on the ground much hurt by a toss of the cow, she helped her to rise. They stood together, expecting another assault from the beasts, but the people crying out that it was enough, they were led to the gate Sanevivaria, where those that were not killed by the beasts were dispatched at the end of the shows by the confectores. Perpetua was here received by Rusticus, a catechumen, who attended her. This admirable woman seemed just returning to herself out of a long ecstasy, and asked when she was to fight the wild cow. Being told what had passed, she could not believe it till she saw on her body and clothes the marks of what she had suffered, and knew the catechumen was correct. With regard to this circumstance of her acts, St. Austin cries out, “Where was she when assaulted and torn by so furious a wild beast, without feeling her wounds, and when, after that furious combat, she asked when it would begin? What did she, not to see what all the world saw? What did she enjoy who did not feel such pain. By what love, by what vision, by what potion was she so transported out of herself, and as it were divinely inebriated, to seem without feeling in a mortal body?” She called for her brother, and said to him and Rusticus, “Continue firm in the faith, love one another, and be not scandalized at our sufferings.” All the martyrs were now brought to the place of their butchery. But the people, not yet satisfied with beholding blood, cried out to have them brought into the middle of the amphitheatre, that they might have the pleasure of seeing them receive the last blow. Upon this, some of the martyrs rose up, and having given one another the kiss of peace, went of their own accord into the middle of the arena; others were dispatched without speaking, or stirring out of the place they were in. St. Perpetua fell into the hands of a very timorous and unskillful apprentice of the gladiators, who, with a trembling hand, gave her many slight wounds, which made her languish a long time. Thus, says St. Austin, did two women, amidst fierce beasts and the swords of gladiators, vanquish the devil and all his fury. The day of their martyrdom was the 7th of March, as it is marked in the most ancient martyrologies, and in the Roman calendar as old as the year 354, published by Eucherius. St. Prosper says they suffered at Carthage, which agrees with all the circumstances. Their bodies were in the great church of Carthage, in the fifth age, as St. Victor (2) informs us. Saint Austin says their festival drew yearly more to honor their memory in their church, than curiosity had done to their martyrdom. They are mentioned in the canon of the Mass.

Endnotes

1 Anal ect. t. 3, p. 403.

2 Victor,1. 1, p. 4.

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The Marvels of Divine Grace

BY REV. HENRY GIBBS, S.J

INDEX

INTRODUCTION

THERE are many people around us who may ask us, or at least ask themselves, the use of becoming Catholic. I have tried to answer that question in many ways. But there is one reason which it seems to me would appeal most forcibly to these inquiries, and that is an explanation of the doctrine of sanctifying grace. Ours they say, is a matter-offact age, in which we no more live on nebulous ideals, however noble they may be. We look for tangible gains and quick returns. To satisfy even so hard and exacting a generation, a clear exposition of the beauty and excellence of divine Grace should be enough. If the teeming millions of our fellow men only knew the marvels which Christ wishes to effect in them by an infusion of a new life, many more would now be within the Christian fold. In this pamphlet at least one aspect of the beauty of Christianity is given which should attract every seeker after truth. I shall try to explain, as lucidly as possible, what Grace is, what it does for us and what are its wonderful properties. A true appreciation of Grace will bring non-Christians to a better knowledge and love of God and of His Commandments. Christians, too, will advance in fervour the more they realize what a treasure they possess by having Grace in their hearts.

This essay could be given various titles: Why be a Christian? -The Wonders and Glories of Grace-The Heart and Soul of Christianity-The Gift Above All Gifts-God’s Best Gift to Man and Pearls of Great Price, etc. The title chosen is inadequate, but so are the others also because the subject itself is so sublime as to challenge human speech.

All we shall attempt here is to speak of the essence of Grace (or its formal effects, as schoolmen say), namely, of Grace as the principle of a share in the divine adoption, of justification and sanctification on earth and of glory in heaven.

Then come the necessary consequences: the indwelling of the Holy Ghost and the infusion of virtues with other gifts and actual graces.

And there are other fruits of grace that depend on our co-operation: a special efficacy of our prayers, and the power to make satisfaction for sins and acquire merits by your good works-all that forms part of the vital power of Christianity.

1. WHAT IS GRACE?

Let me begin by telling you what Grace is not, in order to realise more clearly what it is. Grace is not merely the absence of vice or sin in the soul. The human soul, as we know, is by nature exquisitely beautiful. It is immortal, spiritual, endowed with intellect and will and made to the very image and likeness of God. The beauty of the human soul is far superior to that of the material world. The soul is imperishable, whereas matter is perishable. St. Thomas called matter the mere “tail-end” of God’s creation. The spiritual and supernatural orders rank far above our tangible, visible world. If men are so much in love with this perishable world, this “tail end’ of God’s handiwork, what would they not do if they only realised the priceless worth of the head and crown of God’s wonderful creation, viz., the spiritual and supernatural orders?

Grace a New Life. -Holy Writ abounds in texts to prove the fact of the inner change that comes over us when grace enters the soul. In many places it refers to this change as a new supernatural life, a regeneration, a renovation and a revitalisation. It speaks of man being “born again,” of a “new man,” a “new creature.” Our Lord Himself told Nicodemus: “Unless a man be born again of water and the Holy Ghost, he cannot enter into the Kingdom of God” (St. John 3, 5). Nicodemus took these words literally and wrongly and said in all simplicity: “How can a man enter into his mother’s womb and be born again?’ Evidently Our Lord meant a new kind of rebirth, a new and higher life in the spiritual order of souls.

To explain the nature of this “New Life” which sanctifying grace bestows on the soul, the Fathers of the Church employed some helpful comparisons.

They compared the baptismal waters to the waters out of which God created living beings. Just as God brought forth living fishes out of the waters, so does the baptismal font give the supernatural life to man and make of him a “new creature.” They compared the baptismal waters also to the mother’s womb, which fashions and forms and brings into the world a new creature.

As a Red Hot Iron.-St. Thomas Aquinas speaks of grace as a divine light shining in the soul. But his most forcible comparison is that of a bar of cold iron, thrust into the fire. After a time it loses its blackness, coldness and rigidity, becomes red-hot, flexible and malleable, and seems to be fire itself; so, too, a soul in the state of grace shares the nature of God. More recent writers use the comparison of the foot-print, the portrait and the mirror. The material world around us-the stars, the moon, the earth, the sun-show forth the majesty of God just as a foot-print tells us that a person has passed that way, and in the spiritual order of things, the angels and man’s soul made to the image and likeness of God speak to us of God’s spirituality, as a portrait shows us the one portrayed. Although in different orders of being, God is spirit and man is spirit; God is intelligence and will and so is man. In the case of the mirror a still more vivid representation is obtained. A man looking in a mirror sees himself in all his colour and life-like reality.

Though it be only a reflection of him, nevertheless, the mirror gives him a more real representation of himself than a portrait. So a soul in the state of grace is a truer image of God than a soul in its mere natural state.

Other writers again tell us that what brilliance is to a diamond sparkling in sunlight, that and much more is Grace in our soul. Enter a dark room and the electric lamp, dead and dull before the switch is turned on, suddenly is transfigured when the current flows in. So our soul, when connected up with God, the source of all Grace. Moreover, souls may have greater or less intensity of grace-brightness, like electrical lamps of different strength. A soul shining with Grace is a most beautiful sight. St. Catherine of Siena saw in vision a soul in that state and could hardly look on its dazzling brightness. “If I did not know there was only one God, I should think this was a “god.”

A Share in God’s Life.-Perhaps the simplest way to understand this commingling of the divine with the human by Grace is to consider it, in the words of St. Peter, as a share in the divine Life of God. Later writers spoke of the union of our nature with the divine as the commingling of water and wine. Every day the priest prays at Mass: “O God, Who in creating human nature, didst marvellously ennoble it, and hast still more marvellously renewed it, grant that by the mystery of this water and wine we may be made partakers of His Godhead, Who vouchsafed to become partaker of our humanity, Jesus Christ, Thy Son.

We are all familiar with the different grades of life. Lowest in the scale comes inanimate creation. Stones and minerals have only being and existence, but no motion and life. Higher comes the vegetable kingdom. Plants grow and have the power of changing minerals, mud and water into proteins. They have the lowest form of life. Higher comes the animal world which, in addition to being and growth has sensation and movement. Far higher comes the rational life of man. Man is matter but also spirit. Like the animals he has bones and nerves and muscles, but like the angels also he has intellect and will. Once an animal dies, it goes out of existence, but the soul of a man is immortal. It can never die. Hence man’s absolute superiority over the material world. A still higher form of life is that of angels, who are pure spirits, without bodies and not dependent on matter.

God’s Life.-But infinitely superior to all these grades of life is the untreated life of God. He was from the beginning, He is, and He always will be. He is dependent on no one for His existence, but is the source and beginning of all things visible and invisible. From Him all creation takes its rise, as rays descend from the sun. But He is “pure being” with no admixture at all of “non-being.” All creation is a mere imitation of His existence. He is the substance, we are but the shadow. He is the voice, we the echo. Now to share this wonderful life of God is the grandest thing we can conceive, because it is the communication of the creator Himself as far as He can give Himself to His creature. This is a mystery indeed. But wherever the Infinite meets the finite, the problem goes beyond the grasp of the human intellect. We know for a fact that the human is joined to the Divine by Grace, but how it is done we shall know only in the next life. Meanwhile we must believe that the fact does take place-a fact that causes the sharpest difference between men. To outward seeming, the baptized and the unbaptized are much the same. Yet they differ as night and day. The soul of the baptized has been so transformed into the divine likeness that the very angels admire its perfections.

It is the new life, the precious life of Grace, that makes all the difference. The soul is enriched with a beauty which no created splendour, no perfection in the natural order, can ever bestow. Nat only is there the blessedness of innocence, the absence of all sin, but the re-born soul is adorned with powers and virtues that make God Himself contemplate it with the love with which He looks on His only begotten Son. The Holy Spirit dwells, rejoicing, in that soul as in a consecrated sanctuary. Should the baptized infant die, its immortal spirit would wing its way straight into the bosom of the Father.

The Nature of Grace.-”All comparisons,” you will say, “are lame.” What, then, is in itself that wonderful and sub- lime thing which you call divine grace?”

I answer first that, according to the Catholic doctrine, we can do no good work of ourselves towards our salvation in the next life. We need the help or grace of God. For our supernatural end we need supernatural means. Now Grace is a supernatural gift bestowed by God on rational creatures so that they may attain to eternal life. It is, moreover, a free gift, not merited by natural good works; these, however, dispose us to receive Grace. There are two kinds of Grace:

1. Habitual or Sanctifying Grace is a supernatural quality dwelling in the soul by which man is made a partaker in the divine nature and capable of doing good works that merit eternal life. No one, not even infants, can enter heaven without it.

2. Actual or Transient Grace is the special help given us by God for some particular work, i.e. to overcome temptation, to know the true Faith, or to make an act of contrition. Without actual grace we cannot do good and shun evil for the sake of eternal life.

It is Actual Grace that begins the conversion of sinners by moving them to turn to God; and it is Habitual Grace that sanctifies the soul, expels sin and makes God present in us in a special way. This is expressed by saying that Habitual Grace justifies and sanctifies us. It washes away the guilt of sin and makes us agreeable in God’s sight.

Again, Grace does not merely cleanse the soul of its stains, as a boy cleans his slate. No. In addition to removing the foulness of sin, it effects an inner change in the soul. Our “justification” by Faith is no mere covering up of our sins with a cloak. Luther held that we are, and remain, essentially wicked, and are justified in the eyes of God only by wrapping up ourselves in the merits of Christ. The Catholic doctrine of Grace emphatically denies any such mere extrinsic justification. After baptism we are not only cleansed from without, but, what is more important, we are renewed from within. The Council of Trent clearly laid down: “If anyone says that men are justified . . . to the exclusion of the grace and the charity which is poured forth in their hearts by the Holy Ghost and is inherent in them. . . . let him be anathema” (D. 821).

For the philosophically minded reader we may add here that Habitual Grace is no new substance placed in the soul, but a real quality or accident.

An accident in philosophy, is a thing which cannot exist by itself, but inheres in something else. Now since Grace cannot exist apart from angel or man, it must be looked upon as an accident. St. Thomas expressly tells us: “Since Grace transcends nature, it cannot be a substance, nor a substantial form, but is an accidental form of the soul itself,” (1, 2, Q. 110). The Church, too, in many of her Councils, has defined Grace as something inhering in the soul. “The charity of God is poured forth by the Holy Spirit in the hearts of those that are justified and is inherent therein.” (Denz. 800.) Grace is not directly or properly created by God, as only substances are created; but is elicited from or produced in the soul.

As the great theologian Suarez also affirms: “Grace is produced by the transformation of man, since it is produced by justification, which is a transformation.”

Therefore Grace is not created: a transformation is no creation, but in the strictest sense a change” (De Gratia, L. 8. C. 2 no. 9) .

Grace is Further a Quality.-A quality is an accident which inheres in a substance with some permanence and stability. Habitual Grace does not come and go like the wind. It is only when a man knowingly and willingly commits a mortal sin that Grace quits his soul.

Grace is a Habit.-We call habit a permanent quality which renders a thing well or ill disposed to its natural end. Thus health is a habit of the body, because it enables the body to perform its natural functions well. Grace, too, is a kind of spiritual health of the soul. It disposes us to act in a way conducive to our supernatural end. Grace is not an operative habit because it gives no facility or ease to the soul to perform virtuous acts. Much practice, for instance, on the piano or typewriter gives an operative habit in regard to these acts, but Grace gives no such facility to perform supernatural acts. This is done by various virtues infused in the soul.

Grace an Infused Habit.-It is plain that Grace cannot be a native or acquired habit of the soul. Native habits are inborn in us with our other natural or hereditary qualities. Since Grace is of a wholly supernatural character, it cannot come to us with our birth. Nor is grace an acquired habit, because no number of “naturally” virtuous acts can make the soul acquire it. Grace is a free gift from God and must be infused into us from above.

2. PARTAKERS OF THE DIVINE NATURE

What the soul is to the body, that Grace is to the soul. The soul gives vitality, and action to the body, so does grace give a supernatural life to the soul. When the soul departs, it leaves the body dead, lifeless and limp; when Grace departs, it leaves the soul without supernatural life and cut off from the supernatural order. The two lives in man-the natural and the supernatural-are independent of each other. A man may be going about his daily business and yet be supernaturally dead. If he is in the state of grievous sin, he may be sound in body and yet be as dead as a door nail in soul. On the other hand we may suffer physical death and yet be very much alive in spirit. Let us explain this further.

Natural and Supernatural. -In common parlance people understand by “natural,” something genuine, unaffected, sincere. Thus the love of a mother for her child is “natural.” A speaker who expresses himself in simple, direct and clear language is “natural.” A boy who behaves bonestly, with no attempt at showing off, no paralysing shyness, but with the easy grace and lightheartedness of youth, is “natural.” Natural is sometimes opposed to acquired. We distinguish between man’s natural and acquired powers. “Natural” is, further, taken as the equivalent of normal, in the sense of what generally, though not necessarily, happens. But in the philosophic or precise sense in which we here use the term, “natural” means something which belongs to the essence of a thing, or flows from its nature. In this sense it is natural for fire to burn, for water to seek its level, for cork to float, and for iron to sink in water. It would not be “natural” for a stream to run uphill back to its source, for stones to remain suspended in mid-air. But Grace is not natural to us; it is not due to, or does not flow from, our nature.

By “supernatural” people sometimes mean “super-human,” or strange happenings which are not expected to occur in the usual course of events.

But in the philosophic sense it means something higher that the nature of a thing. This again may be “relatively” or “absolutely” supernatural. Anything above the nature of some created beings and not of others, is said to be “relatively” supernatural. Thus if a cow were to reason or an ass to speak, we should look upon this fact as only “relatively” supernatural; it is preternatural, or abnormal for brutes to reason, yet not so for man. But to exhibit a power which no created being naturally could possess, this we consider as absolutely supernatural. Such is the Beatific Vision in Heaven. The direct, face-to-face vision of God is neither due to any creature, nor even within its capacity. In this sense also Grace is absolutely supernatural, because God alone can communicate it. From this judge of the excellence of Grace!

The supernatural order, then, implies two things. First, it conveys the idea of a life and of gifts which are in no way due to, or deserved by, any created being. Secondly, Grace implies a state, or life which elevates man to a union with God on a plane above all created beings.

A Caution: The supernatural character of Grace is sometimes brought out by being put in antithesis to nature. But here the antithesis implies no contradiction. Grace does not destroy or supplant, but raises nature to a plane which lies beyond the reach of the powers of nature. Of ourselves we are nothing; but, when united to the divine, we assume something of the dignity of the Divine. “O Christian, know your divine dignity.”

How the Transformation Takes Place.-Grace really transforms and defies human nature, although to outward seeming no change has been wrought. Not that we become identical with God (such an opinion would lead to Pantheism), but that we participate in some special manner in the very life and existence of God. The change is to us, not in Him. As light penetrates and suffuses the flawless crystal, so does God pervade, illumine and possess the soul. Holy Scripture exhausts the terms of endearment off the human language to express the relations that spring up between the soul vitalised by Grace and God, the Giver of Grace. The soul becomes the friend of God, the child of God, the spouse of God. Grace makes us one with Christ, Whose redeeming Passion has delivered us from the bonds of sin and restored the original divine sonship with which the first man, Adam, was privileged.

If Christians realized the wonders of Grace, they would find it easy to be detached from the world, to serve God, to love their neighbour, and to practise that self-renunciation which is a condition for the unhampered growth of virtue and for the exercise of the zeal which should animate the friends of God.

3. GOD’S ADOPTED CHILDREN

As a consequence of sharing in God’s life we become, in a degree difficult of full realization, the adopted sons of God. St. John, the disciple whom Jesus specially loved, has written most beautifully: “Behold what manner of charity the Father hath bestowed upon us, that we should be called and should be the sons of God.” (I John 3, 1).

Our Divine Adoption. -If the king of England were to take a child of humble origin to Buckingham Palace and adopt him as his son, he would be doing a wonderful act of condescension and kindness. But behold in our divine adoption by Grace an infinitely more wonderful act of generosity on the part of God! He raises us from our nothingness and makes us more really His sons than any legal enactments could make an adopted youth the son of another man. According to Roman Law, when a child was adopted into a family, all the legal claims of his parents over him ceased and instead he assumed all the rights, privileges and dignities of the family into which he was adopted. Our divine adoption entails at least all the effects of legal adoption. But look into the matter more closely, and you will be agreeably surprised to find that God in His mercy establishes a still more intimate tie of relationship between us and Himself.

In our processes of legal adoption, the child who is adopted remains of foreign extraction and a stranger by blood. He still retains the features and qualities which have come to him with his birth. He can no more put away the physical characteristics of his parents and their blood which flows in his veins than a leopard can change his spots. No possible ceremony in the world can turn him into a blood relation of the family into which he is incorporated. But in the case of our divine adoption, the matter is quite different. Since the life and nature of God are communicated to us by Grace, we become His sons not merely by an extrinsic or artificial bond, but, what is more, by a most intimate tie of relationship with Him from within.

Scripture Warrant for it. -St. John, in the beginning of his gospel (Ch. 1, 12), beautifully says: “As many as received Him to them He gave power to be made the sons of God . . . who are born not of blood . . . but of God.”

Writing to the Ephesians (Ch. 1, 5) St. Paul says: “Blessed be the God and Father of Our Lord Jesus Christ . . . Who hath predestinated us unto the adoption of children through Jesus Christ.” To the Galatians he says, “When the fullness of time was come, God sent His Son . . . that He might redeem them that were under the Law: that we might receive the adoption of sons. And because you are sons, God hath sent the Spirit of His Son into your hearts, crying: Abba, Father.”

Again, writing to the Romans (Ch. 8, 14) , St. Paul says: “You have not received the spirit of bondage again in fear: but you have received the spirit of adoption of song, whereby we cry: Abba, Father. For the spirit himself giveth testimony to our spirit that we are the sons of God.” What a tender tie of filial relationship these words express!

SS. Peter and John use the most forcible language to describe the reality of our intimacy with God by our divine adoption. They speak of us as being “born again not of corruptible seed, but of incorruptible.” “Whoever is born of God committeth not sin, for His seed abideth in him.” They speak of us as being “grafted” on Christ, as being reborn, as being regenerated, and as “putting on” Christ. The Fathers of the Church also bear ample testimony to the wonderful change that comes over us.

Of course, we are not sons of God in that full sense in which Christ is the Son of God. But it is perfectly right to affirm that what Jesus Christ is by nature, that we become by Grace. Christ’s Divine Sonship is on quite a different plane from ours, but that does not in any way diminish the reality of our affinity to God by Grace.

An Interesting Story.-A charming story is told of a governess who had to look after the Princess Louise of France. One day both were going out for a walk. In a fit of impatience the little princess turned to her nurse and said: “Why do you treat me like that: Know you that I am the daughter of your king?” The humble governess in reply quietly asked: “But know you not that 1 am the daughter of your God?” So this humble maid had realized the dignity of being the child of God by Grace.

It is also said that the words which most impressed St. Joan of Arc and persuaded her to take up her mission were: “Daughter of God.” The voices urging her to go on her mission repeatedly addressed her as “Daughter of God, daughter of God.”

The Incarnation Gives Us This Sonship.-It is on account of God the Son becoming man that we have been raised to such a sublime dignity. “God sent His son, made of a woman . . . that we might receive the adoption of sons.” St. Fulgentius, commenting on this passage of St. Paul, says: “God was born of man that man might be born of God. The first birth of Christ, as the Son of God, was of God, and His second birth was of man; whereas our first birth is of man, and our second of God. What Christ was not in virtue of His first birth, that He became at His second birth, that we might also be made by the grace of our second birth what we were not by the first.” St. Augustine, writing in the same strain, says: “The Son of God was made the son of Man that the children of men might be made the children of God.”

The consequences of this doctrine are far-reaching. If we are the sons of God in a very real sense, then God is our Father and Christ is our Brother in a far deeper manner than we have ever dared to imagine. Moreover, all men in the state of grace acquire a spiritual kinship among themselves which is far more real than that acquired by descent from one common parent-Adam. Christ is the spiritual Head of the human race, just as Adam is in the natural order. If this Fatherhood of God and brotherhood of man were better understood by men, how soon would not wars and strifes and national antipathies and caste distinctions, cease! We are each of us only what we are in the eyes of God and the rest matters little. Now in the eyes of God there is only one noble race or caste, those who have received divine adoption.

To be the child of God is to be the child of Destiny, for God is Destiny-the power that governs the future.

4. “HEIRS OF HEAVEN”

We all know what it means to be the heir to an estate. It means that the inheritor has an effective claim over the lands willed to him, and they will come in his actual possession at the death of the present owner. The Christian, too, in virtue of the order of things which Christ in His infinite goodness has established, can lay full claim to an eternal reward in Heaven, if he dies in the state of sanctifying grace. The Christian, therefore, does not look forward to Heaven as to a foreign land, but as to an assured inheritance to which Christ gives him every right and claim. Thus a passport authorizes a man to enter a foreign territory, or the title-deeds give a man the power to take possession of his property.

The Connection Between Grace and Glory. -It is the common teaching of Catholic Divines that in order to be capable of enjoying the Beatific Vision, the soul must first be endowed with the “lumen gloriae,” or the “light of glory.” The soul cannot with its mere natural powers enjoy the direct face-to-face Vision of God, or feel the entrancing Beatitude of Heaven, any more than a marble statue can enjoy the fine sights and fragrant odours of the garden in which it is placed. Scientists tell us that there are certain sounds in the forests and groves which are completely beyond the range of our hearing, because our ears have not been adapted to take them in. Similarly, there is so great a disproportion between the ravishing joys of Paradise and our faculty for enjoying them, that unless God endowed us with the “light of glory,” we should be absolutely incapable of contemplating face to face the infinite splendour of His august majesty.

Now, we are told that this “light of glory” is nothing else than the efflorescence of the sanctifying grace with which the soul has left this world. Proof of it is, that little children who have died without the grace of Baptism and adults who have died in a state of mortal sin, will not be given this “light of glory,” and will, in consequence, be absolutely excluded from the Beatific Vision. Moreover, it is the common teaching of the theologians that the degree and measure of our happiness in Heaven will be in proportion to the amount of sanctifying grace with which we shall have died. All this shows that there is an intrinsic connection between grace and glory. Grace has sometimes been called the “seed of glory,” because it is this same sanctifying grace in our souls with which we shall die that will ultimately grow into the “light of glory.” Referring to this grace in the soul, St. John writes: “Whosoever is born of God committeth not sin: for His seed abideth in him” (Jn. .iii., 9).

Rejoice, then, Christian heart, in being the inheritor of Heaven in so real a sense by the possession of Grace! Let your exultation know no bounds, because even as the eye takes in the morning light when the night recedes and sleep departs, so surely will you succeed to an eternal heirloom in Heaven if you die in the state of grace. “Ye are no more strangers and foreigners,” St. Paul tells the Ephesians (2, 19), “but you are fellow-citizens of the saints and the domestics of God.” And to the Romans (8, 17) : “The Spirit Himself gives testimony to our spirit that we are the sons of God, and if sons, heirs also: heirs indeed of God and joint-heirs with Christ.”

5. GRACE INCORPORATES US WITH GOD

But the grandest and most glorious thing which Grace does for us is that it incorporates us with Christ. Speaking of the Sacraments which are the channels of God’s grace into our hearts, Fr. C. Lattey writes: “I want to stress the fact that the Sacraments do more than allow us to touch the hem of Christ’s garment and thereby be cured; they actually incorporate us in Christ, so that we become in a very real sense one with Him.” To incorporate, according to any dictionary, means to form into one body, to mix into one mass, or to unite so as to form part of another body. If Christ cured us of our spiritual maladies merely from without, as He cured the people of Galilee by the touch of His hand or the word of His mouth, it would be a great benefit. He does infinitely more for us. He enters into a most intimate union with us by Grace and revivifies us from within.

Here we reach the kernel or central idea of the doctrine of Grace, and, for the matter of that, of the whole Christian religion.

Christ the Life of the World.-On many occasions Jesus Christ proclaimed Himself to be the life of the world. In John x, 10, we read: “1 am come that they may have life and have it more abundantly.” In another place, too, Christ says: “1 am the Way, the Truth and the Life.” Now in what sense is Christ the Life of the world? No doubt Christ is our life in the sense that He was born and died for us, and thereby became the cause of our salvation: “He became to all that obey Him the cause of eternal salvation” (Hebrew v, 9) . But there is another and deeper sense in which Christ is our life. Even here and now, during our earthly sojourn, He gives us a new life. “He that has the Son has life, he that has not the Son has not life” (I John v, 12). Remark that St. John does not use the future, but the present tense.

Incorporation Explained.-This life referred to is none other than our supernatural life of grace. Christ does not work upon us as the wind acts upon the sails of a ship, as a seal leaves its impression on wax, or as petrol sets the engines of a car in motion. No, His activity upon us is internal and from within. He acts upon us more as a living organism acts upon particles of matter and draws them into union with itself. Just as animals or men take in particles of food and assimilate them into their own substances, so Christ incorporates us into Himself. Christ’s wonderful figure of the Vine brings out this truth very beautifully: “Abide in Me: and I in you. As the branch cannot bear fruit of itself, unless it abide in the vine, so neither can you, unless you abide in Me, I am the vine, you the branches. He that abides in Me, and I in him, the same bears much fruit: for without Me you can do nothing” (Jn. xii, 5). It is especially at the time of Holy Communion that this union with Christ becomes most intense and intimate. Hence the words of Our Lord, “Except you eat the flesh of the Son of man and drink His Blood, you shall not have life in you. . . . He that eats My flesh and drinks My blood abides in Me and I in him.” St. Thomas draws our attention to the difference in effect between our natural food and the Eucharistic Banquet. In the case of our natural food, he says, we assimilate it to our flesh and blood, but in the case of our heavenly food, the Eucharist transforms him who receives it into Itself.

1. Proofs of Our Incorporation.-St. Paul is par-excellence the apostle of this doctrine of our incorporation in Christ. Abbot Vonier has calculated that he uses the phrase “In Christ Jesus” not less than eighty times. Just as St. John in his gospel is the whole time at pains to prove that Jesus Christ is the Son of God, so this doctrine of our incorporation is the outstanding subject in the writings of St. Paul. He comes back on it over and over again. His two favourite comparisons are those of the building, and of the body.

(a) Just as the various walls and pillars in a building do not form isolated entities, but become parts of the whole edifice, so do we become incorporated in Christ by Grace.

“You are no longer strangers . . . but very members of the family of God, built as you are on the foundation of the apostles and prophets, of whom Jesus Christ is the corner-stone. It is in that the whole well-ordered building arises and forms a holy temple in the Lord.” As Fr. Lattey points out: “Christ has made us, poor scattered pebbles, the stones of a great building, an organic and living building of which He is become the living corner-stone.”

(b) But St. Paul’s most characteristic simile is that of the body. “As the body is one and has many members and all the members of the body, whereas they are many, yet are one body, so also is Christ. The body also is not one member, but many.”

“You are the body of Christ and you are the members, each in his way.”

“Know you not that your bodies are the members of Christ? He Who is joined to the Lord is one spirit” (I Cor. vi, 15, 17). Perhaps the most striking passage is to be found in I Cor. xii, 4-end:

“Now there are diversities of graces, but the same spirit. And there are diversities of ministries, but the same Lord. And there are diversities of operations, but the same God, Who worketh all in all. . . . For in one spirit were we all baptized into one body, whether Jew or Gentiles, whether bond or free. . . . and in one spirit we have all been made to drink. . . . If the foot should say I am not the hand . . . is it therefore not of the body.”

2. The Difference Between the Old and the New Testament.-As we all know, Testament means pact, alliance, agreement, contract. The contract in the Old Alliance between God and His people was that He would give them peace, prosperity and every temporal blessing on condition that they kept His commandments. If the Israelites disobeyed His Law, He would send them drought, famine, war, and every temporal misery. But in the New Allia nce the link between God and His people was to be different. By His temporal life and death Christ was to merit for us Grace and thereby become the new supernatural Head of the human race. He was to unite us to God in a new way by making us share in the Divine Life. The New Alliance was to introduce a new era of love, mercy and benignity. Evidently, this new link between God and His people is far superior to that of the Old Testament. In the New Testament God has invited us to a close and intimate union with Him.

3. The Universal Law of Charity.-Why are Christians so frequently urged to love one another? Why are they obliged to love even their enemies ? What is this New Commandment of Love which Christ has imposed upon His followers, “Love one another as I have loved you.” “If any man says he loves God and hates his brother, the same is a liar.” By this shall all men know that you are My disciples that you have love for one another.” This was to be the distinguishing mark of Christ’s followers. What people saw the early Christians, they exclaimed in wonder: “Behold how they love one another!”

At the last Judgement Christ will say: “Come ye blessed of My Father, possess you the Kingdom prepared for you. . . . When I was hungry, you gave Me to eat, when I was thirsty, you gave Me to drink, when I was naked, you clothed Me. . . . Then the just will say: Lord, when did we see You hungry and gave You to eat, when did we see You thirsty and gave You to drink. . . . Then the Lord will answer and say: As long as you did it to one of these My least brethren, you did it to Me. . . .” (St. Matthew, Ch. xxv). This and other passages clearly prove our intimate union with Christ. We are as closely related to each other by bonds of supernatural grace as the members of the same family are related to each other by blood. There is the same supernatural grace flowing through the souls of all who are in the state of grace. We come from the same Father and Creator; we have His own Life flourishing within us; so we are bound to love one another. Christ wished and prayed for this unity amongst men with all His Heart. We have but to recall His beautiful prayer to His Heavenly Father: “Holy Father, keep them in Thy name . . . that they may be one, as We also are. . . . As Thou Father in Me, and I in Thee, that they also may be one in Us; that the world may believe that Thou hast sent Me . . . that the love wherewith Thou hast loved Me may be in them and I in them” (St. John, Ch. 16). In some wonderful way, therefore, all who have been redeemed become one with Christ and incorporated in Him. We might examine here all the seven Sacraments and show how each of them unites us closer to God by bestowing on us, each in its own way, a new infusion of Grace. They also go to show how our prayers and actions become almost infinite in value by being offered through Christ, the Head of the Mystical Body.

6. TEMPLES OF THE HOLY GHOST”

God’s Natural Presence. -We all know that God is everywhere, in Heaven, on earth and even in hell. He gives existence and activity to every creature. But this we may call the casual presence of God, as He is the cause of all created beings and of their actions. God is also omnipresent by His knowledge; everything is open to His mind and chiefly present by His substance, which is infinite and spiritual. But mind that spirits are not present like bodies, different parts of which occupy different parts of space. Spirits having no parts are wholly present wherever they are, and so is God. This threefold divine presence-by power, knowledge and substance-is God’s natural or common presence.

God’s Supernatural Presence. -Holy Scripture, moreover, proves the fact of God communicating His life and nature to us by Grace. “As many of us as have been baptized in Christ, have put on Christ” (Gal. iii, 27). “We have been grafted on Christ” (Rom. vi’ 5). Christ Himself affirms that He and the Father abide in a very special manner in the heart of the righteous man: “If any man love Me, he will keep My word and My Father will love him, and We will come to him and make Our abode with him.” But perhaps the most striking passage in this connection is that of St. Peter’s, where he says that by grace we become partakers of the Divine Nature and sharers in His Divine Life (II Epistle, i, 4.)

The newness which God’s special presence adds to His natural presence in us may be brought out by a comparison. It is as if a new electric current had been induced into our beings and transformed us into superior beings. In her “Interior Castle,” St. Teresa describes this special indwelling of God by the following comparison. “If,” she says, “some of us were seated in a well-lighted room, and if the lights were suddenly to go out, we should still feel aware of one another’s presence in the room though we did not see each other.” By this presence of God in us we are even now:

Living Temples of God. -As St. Paul says: “Know you not that you are the temple of God, and that the Spirit of God dwells in You? But if any man violate the temple of God, him shall God destroy. For the temple of God is holy, which you are.” How highly, therefore, must we not love and treasure Grace, since by it no less a dignitary than His infinite Majesty comes to take up His abode in the lowly dwelling of our hearts!

New Gifts and Virtues. -Besides the special indwelling of God in our souls Grace is the source of new powers given to our various faculties. Some of these powers relate immediately to God; they are Faith, Hope and Charity (I Cor. 13, 13). Others relate to ourselves and our neighbour; they are Prudence, Justice, Temperance and Fortitude ( Wisdom 7, 7) . By Grace we are the children of God; by the infused virtues we are able to act as children of God, and by our good works we merit eternal life.

For the worthy performance of our good works God gives us actual graces and also special gifts, such as Wisdom, Understanding, Counsel, Fortitude, Knowledge, Piety, and the Fear of the Lord (Isaias 11, 2.)

So many jewels adorn the soul of the just! So many helps are given us to walk in a way worthy of God! This is why we are told in the Gospel: “Be you, therefore, perfect, as also your heavenly Father is perfect.” (St. Matthew 5, 48.)

7. DECEIVED BY APPEARANCES

Let us not, therefore, be deceived by appearances. The earth, to all appearances, seems to be much bigger than the sun, or seems to be flat, or seems to be gone round by the sun; but we know that it is the sun which is in reality nearly a million times larger than the earth, that it is the earth which is going round the sun, and that the earth is not flat but round. In a similar way, the riches, honours and pleasures of this world might appear to us to be much more valuable than Grace because of their proximity to us; but in reality it is the supernatural order which is of inestimably greater value than anything in the material or even spiritual order. God might seem to be far away and Grace might seem to be of little worth, but let us not be guided by our senses in these matters, Faith and reason must teach us otherwise.

St. Thomas, as we have said, looked upon matter as merely the “tail-end” of God’s wonderful creation. The magnificence and splendour of all the visible world was to him nothing compared to the Grace in a single man. The beauties and marvels of our visible creation are evanescent, whereas Grace is imperishable. The eminent theologian, Lessuis, goes even further and says that even if all the perfections of our earth were infinite, they would still be of less value than the least degree of Grace.

In the Imitation of Christ we read that many are deceived under the appearances of good. The more we reflect on this doctrine of Grace, the more we shall find how greatly we were mistaken in our standards of judgement. All the beauties and pleasures of the earth are mere trifles compared to the spiritual treasures of heaven.

St. Augustine says that not only the wonderful beauties and perfections of our earth, but even all the spiritual grandeur and excellence of heaven and the angels are of less value than Grace. The reason he gives is because all the natural perfections of the earth and of the angels are only perfections created out of nothing, whereas Grace proceeds from God. St. Thomas, too, in one place teaches that Grace is of greater value than the soul itself.

Grace Inseparable from God. -One reason assigned by the Divines why Grace is of such priceless value is because it is inseparable from God. We can no more separate Grace from God than we can separate light from the sun. The two are most intimately connected with each other.

Grace has been said to be of greater value than the gift of miracles, because miracles are performed only in visible creation, whereas Grace perfects and enhances the imperishable order. Saints have said that it is a greater achievement to convert a sinner that to create heaven and earth. Or, to put it as St. Augustine expressed it, we do a greater work with God’s help in converting ourselves than God does in creating us, because the immediate consequences of our creation are conditional, but the conversion of our souls is fraught with everlasting consequences. Other Fathers of the Church extol Grace in other striking ways. St. Ambrose calls it: “A splendid painting made by God Himself” St. Chrysostom compares the soul in a state of grace to “A statue of gold,” St. Cyril calls it: “A divine sea.” St. Basil: “A shining light.” St. Thomas says that Grace beautifies the soul like a divine light.

Human Blindness.-How comes it, then, I ask, that men are so purblind as to be indifferent about Grace? In the words of Shakespeare:

“O judgement, thou art fled to brutish beasts

And men have lost their reason.”

What witchcraft has so poisoned and dulled the judgement of men as to make them prefer the glittering tinsel of earthly goods to the everlasting joy of heaven? Even men famed for their practical sense, shrewd judgement and matter of fact methods in business, show colossal ignorance and supreme indifference in regard to the things of God.

To what pains a man puts himself in order to acquire accomplishments in the physical or intellectual order! With what diligence the athlete endeavours to develop his form, or obtain speed in running. He regulates his diet, refrains his appetites, painfully exercises himself every day to strengthen his muscles. For a perishable crown or fleeting triumph he does so much and yet he will probably not even lift a finger for the sake of Heaven! Other men spend many years at a university or a school of art to perfect their mind and hand. Behold the painter, sculptor or musician, painfully bending hour after hour over his task, all in order to produce a masterpiece in stone or marble or on canvas. The perfections of a far inferior order attract man, whereas Grace which is of higher value than the perfection of the highest angels had no attraction for him. Who would prefer a shining copper coin to a genuine sovereign in gold? And yet this is what man does when he wastes his time in trivial pursuits. Every time the devil tempts man to rob, steal, drink, or do some other evil deed, he offers man a counterfeit coin. Man grabs at it as a child reaches out to a glittering bauble. The fact is the world is too much with us; and hence we are unable to put things in their proper place and gauge them at their right value. In offering man Grace, God offers him a diamond, and man prefers a lump of clay. Is it another instance of throwing pearls before swine ? It is at least a striking proof of our mental limitations.

But on the contrary, O Christian, forget not your dignity! It is more exalted and substantial than that of kings and mighty conquerors. The privileges of the Christian are not confined to the body, nor limited by time. They apply to the soul-they are enjoyed in time and last for ever.

A sinner saved by Grace -admitted to fellowship with the Most High-made the son of God-guided with infallible wisdom and omnipotence-his name written in the Book of Life-called to heaven there to receive the crown of immortality and a palm of eternal victory! What can better employ the mind than the frequent contemplation of these glorious realities?

8. PRACTICAL QUESTIONS

So much for the theory of Grace. Let me now turn to some practical questions which have turned up when discussing this matter with people.

1. When are Men in the State of Grace?-Christian children are put in the state of grace by the reception of baptism. If the baptized child should die before it reaches the use of reason, its soul would wing its flight straight to Heaven and enjoy the Beatific Vision of God for all eternity. Other children who die before the age of reason would go to a place called Limbo; where they would not enjoy the face-to-face vision of God, but only some natural happiness. After coming to the use of reason, if a Christian commits a grievous sin, he forfeits the state of grace and is at enmity with God. He must make an act of contrition, confess and be sorry for his sins in order to recover the state of grace. Unbaptized grown-up people receive from God help (i.e., actual graces) to prepare themselves by prayer and good works to receive divine adoption.

The necessary dispositions include faith. Without faith it is impossible to please God . . . we must believe (on God’s own authority) that He exists and rewards those who seek Him (Hebrews 9, 6). Fear of God: “He that is without fear cannot be justified” (Eccli. 1, 28). Sorrow for having offended God: “Unless you shall do penance, you shall all likewise perish” (Luke 13, 3). Love of God: St. John says: He that loves not abides in death.” (1 Epistle 13, 3) .

Even the most ignorant person who at the moment of death makes acts of faith, love of God and resignation to His Divine Will can obtain eternal salvation. God will never punish involuntary ignorance. This minimum of good dispositions could be expressed in simple words thus: “My God, I believe in Thee and all that Thou wouldst have me believe because Thou hast told us. I hope from Thee, because of Thy mercy and Thy promises, all that I need to come to Thee in heaven. I love Thee with all my heart because Thou art infinitely good and worthy of all love and therefore I am sorry for having offended Thee. Help me to do Thy Holy Will. Amen.”

2. HOW MUCH GRACE AND MERIT IS RECOVERED AFTER REPENTING OF A GRIEVOUS SIN?

All the merits previously acquired recover their value by justification; but as to the degree of grace possessed before the grievous sin and after obtaining its forgiveness there is a difference of opinion.

Some hold that Grace is given back and the previous merits revive in proportion to the disposition of the person at the time of justification.

Others, again, of a more liberal view, maintain that if the contrition is very intense and pleasing to God, we may get now even a greater degree of sanctifying grace than we had before our fall into sin. The reason they give is that we thus make greater efforts after perfection, than we would have done if we had never fallen into sin.

It is in a similar sense, no matter how paradoxical it may sound, that Pascal said: “Hell peoples Heaven.” The fear of Hell has made many people go to Heaven who otherwise perhaps would not have gone there.

In confirmation of their theory the defenders of this liberal school also quote that passage where it is said: “There is more joy in Heaven over the tear-wet face of one repentant sinner than over the snowy-white robes of the hundred who are just.”

3. Can We Increase Grace in Our Hearts?-Most certainly. All can daily increase their store of sanctifying grace, once they have established themselves in the state of grace. All their acts of prayer, penance, mortification, self-denial, almsdeeds, etc., can bring them closer to God and merit for them a higher degree of glory in heaven. Theologians sometimes make use of the comparison of the camera. The more we open the aperture of the camera, the greater and the bigger will be the picture thrown on the plate behind. In a similar way the more we increase in Grace the greater will be our capacity for seeing God in heaven. Hence, the real and enormous value of time for us. If a miser were told he could increase his fortune from $100 to 1000 or 10,000 per month for all eternity by the performance of a fast, how eagerly would he not jump at the opportunity? And yet this is what God offers us for our penances, sacrifices and sufferings in time. The better we serve Him, the greater will be the reward, not for one day, one month, or year, but, for millions of years and beyond. We shall be enjoying this immense happiness, not one day after another, in succession, but the whole weight of our happiness will be put upon us at every moment of eternity. Just as it is not necessary to touch a big iron ball on all its surface in order to feel its full weight, but it is enough to balance it at one point on our finger, so, in Heaven, we shall enjoy all our happiness at each and every moment of eternity. The saints had a right perspective of the value of things, so they counted it joy to renounce all earthly dignities, pleasures and riches.

Let us, like them, try and increase our treasure of Grace in every possible way. Reflect, every Mass we hear, every Communion we receive, every renunciation we make, every prayer we offer up, every alms we give, will bring us an increase of Grace which will augment our happiness in Heaven for years without end. Looked at in this light, the sacrifices we may have to make in the observance of God’s commandments will not be difficult, but will become light and easy. As St. Paul assured the Corinthians (II Ch. 4) : “What is at present momentary and light of our tribulation works for us above measure exceedingly an eternal weight of glory. . . . The things which are seen are temporal, but the things which are not seen are eternal.”

Nihil Obstat:

PERCY JONES: Censor Dioc.

Imprimatur:

@ D. MANNIX,

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis 7th July, 1959

The Mass: Our Splendid Privilege

COMPILED BY ALICE DEASE

INDEX

JANUARY

1 “The Mass is the Sacrifice of the Body and Blood of Christ, which are really present under the appearances of bread and wine, and are offered to God by the priest for the living and the dead.”- (The Catechism.) ‘‘‘ 2 “The Holy Mass is the . . . soul of all devotion.”- (St. Francis de Sales.)

3 “Three hundred thousand Masses are said every twenty-four hours, and we can join our intention in them all.”- (Fr. Collier, C.SS.R.)

4 “I could attend Mass for ever, and not be tired . . . it is not the invocation, merely, but . . . the evocation of the Eternal. He becomes present on the altar in flesh and blood, before Whom angels and devils alike, tremble—(Cardinal Newman.)

5 “It is through the Mass . . . that Christ dispenses His richest favours.”- (Fr. Forster, SJ.)

6 Even God Himself could not bring about a holier or a greater act than the Mass.”- (St. Alphonsus Ligouri.) 7 “The salvation of the whole world is bound up with this Mystery.’’- (St. Odo of Cluny.)

8 “The world owes its preservation to the Mass.”- (Timothy of Jerusalem.)

9 “The Mass is a memorial of God’s goodness to us and a summing up of all His benefits.”- (St. Bonaventure.) 10 “Each Mass has for the welfare and salvation of men the same efficacy as the Sacrifice of the Cross.”- (St. Thomas.)

11 “Spiritual gifts will be rich bestowed upon those who assist at Mass with proper dispositions.”- (St. Cyril.) 12 (At Mass) . . . those in mortal sin, which they cannot bring themselves to give up, may get the strong grace they require to break their chains . . .”- (Mother Loyola.)

13 “God does not hear sinners,” said the blind man in the Gospel; but he was wrong. He hears them willingly, hears them always, and, above all, hears them at Mass.”- (Mother Loyola.)

14 “So many people do not trouble to hear Mass on Sundays, when they could easily do so. If you hear a second Mass on a Sunday, after your own Mass of obligation in reparation for those who are so negligent, do so.” (de Segur) 15 “It is a lonesome day, when you don’t get to Mass in the morning.”- (A Dublin Shop-girl.)

16 “Daily Mass is not of obligation; but those who appreciate its value as a help to living a holy life, consider it a duty to attend when possible. Unfortunately, the number who avail themselves of this privilege is far too small.”- (Fr. Degen.)

17 “Jesus attaches such a price to His Passion that He has willed the remembrance of it to be recalled to us daily . . . that is the Sacrifice of the Mass.”- (Abbot Marmion, O.S.B.)

18 “The liturgy moves with salutary effect both soul and body . . . through the variety and beauty of the Sacred rites.”—(Pope Pius XI.)

19 “Mass is like a grain of mustard seed whence has sprung the whole Catholic liturgy.”- (Dom Cabrol.) 20 “Mighty is the prayer that is prayed at Mass.”- (Quoted by M. Mary Loyola.)

21 “The sacrifice of the Mass is the same everywhere . . . in a stately minster, or in a humble shrine. In a garret or on the hillside.”- (A Book of the Mass.)

22 “The Mass is the source and fount of much of our Catholic literature, the heart of our Liturgy, and the centre of our Christian life.”- (Fr. Forster, S.J.)

23 “What can God refuse us when He sees us daily at the foot of the altar where His Divine Son is offering Himself on our behalf?”- (Mother Loyola.)

24 “The Mass is by far the most sacred and holy act of a priest’s life.‖—(Mother Eaton.)

25 “During Mass beg of God to give priests to His Church . . . be more urgent in this petition than in all others, for it is the most important.”- (Msgr. Gibergues.)

26 “One priest more means hundreds, perhaps thousands of additional Masses.” (Madame Goupil.) 27 “At the elevation of the Sacred Host, always pray for Priests.”- (An Old Irish Custom.)

28 “Of all honours that have ever been rendered to God by the homage of the Angels, and by the virtues, austerities, martyrdoms and other holy deeds of man, none could procure so much glory to Him as one single Mass.”- (St. Alphonsus.)

29 “At Mass Jesus is our very own. He is given to us, and becomes our possession.”- (Mgr. Giberrgues.) 30 “Mass is for them (the Catholic laity) it is theirs, and consequently, something into which they should intelligently enter.”- (Fr. Forster, S.J.)

31 “Our liturgy is not a dead thing . . . from a historical, instructional or mystical point of view is the source of many rich treasures.‖- (Fr. Forster, S.J.)

FEBRUARY

1 “One Mass heard during life will be more beneficial to a soul than many heard for it after death.”- (Anon. from St. Saviour’s Bulletin.)

2 “In the Mass Christ takes up our poor ineffective acts and lifts them up to heaven. He catches them up in the very whirlwind and mounting eddies of His own infinitely strong and perfect acts, and so carries them to the throne of His Father.”- (Bishop Hedley.)

3―No one, whatever be his state before God, can assist devoutly at Mass without obtaining the grace he needs.”- (Mother Loyola.)

4 “The Mass is not for (one country) only, but for the world. Not for this century or generation, but for all generations.”- (Fr. J. Rickaby, S.J.)

5 “The Mass renders to God the greatest honour that can be given to Him, it procures the most powerful help for the souls in Purgatory . . . it appeases the anger of God against sinners, and obtains for us the Divine grace in the fullest abundance.”- (St. Alphonsus.)

6 “At the hour of death, the Masses we have heard will be our greatest consolation.”- (Anon. from St. Saviour’s Bulletin.)

7 “It is, indeed, through Christ, with Christ, and in Christ that the sacrifice of the Mass is offered.”- (Farnborough Monks in “The Liturgy.”)

8 “At Mass there is offered to the Eternal Farther the very person of Jesus Christ, God and Man. Consequently, the Divine Majesty receives an infinitely greater honour than if all mankind and all angels made the sacrifice of their lives.” (St. Alphonsus)

9 Our Lord revealed to St. Mechtildis: “I am present in the Mass with such happiness that I patiently tolerate the presence of sinners, and pardon their iniquities with joy.”

10 “Christ was and is both Priest and Victim: He is the Priest according to the Spirit, the Victim according to the flesh. He is both the Sacrificer and the thing sacrificed.”- (St. Chrysostom.)

11 “If we understood the Mass, if only we . . . had sufficient faith to penetrate Its unspeakable mysteries, what an attraction the Holy Sacrifice would have for us, and how eagerly should we desire to assist at it.”- (Mgr. Gibergues ) 12 “At Mass the sinner reconciles himself with God, the just becomes more just, faults are wiped away, vices destroyed, virtues increased, merits multiplied.”- (St. Laurence Justinian)

13 “A missal, which is the official score of the Mass rite, will have the beneficial effect of keeping our minds better occupied during Mass and of our taking a far more active part in what is going on at the altar.”- (Fr. Forster, S.J.) 14”At the ‗Memento for the Dead,’ when Our Lord is really present on the altar we plead with Him for those who can no longer plead for themselves.”- (Mother Loyola.)

15 “The object of the Holy Mass is to glorify God as our Supreme Master and greatest Benefactor.”- (Gihr.) 16 “However we assist at Mass, it is well to unite with the priest at least at the Offertory, Consecration and priest’s Communion.”- (Mother Loyola.)

17 “To decorate the altars, especially on great feasts, with flowers, is an ancient, venerable, devout and praiseworthy custom, and is approved by the Church.”- (Gihr.)

18 If solemn ceremonies were not used in the celebration of the Mass, Catholic belief in the Real Presence of Jesus Christ upon our altars, would not be fitly expressed.”- (Fr. Faa di Bruno)

19 “Hundreds of sinners will be saved through the prayers that are offered for them in the Mass.”- (St. Laurence Justinian.)

20 “We can offer Our Lord to His heavenly Father in the Mass as the Treasure belonging to us, and we shall be generously rewarded for this.”- (St. Mechtildis.)

21 “You offer up this sacrifice of propitiation not only for your own sins, but also for those of the whole Christian world, especially for great sinner’s.”- (Fr. Porter.)

22 We are told, in the life of the holy Superioress of the Rosminian Sisters of Providence (Mother Agnes Amherst), that when there was a question, during her last illness, of choosing between hearing Mass and receiving Holy Communion, “she would decide to assist at the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass, notwithstanding her longing desire to be united to Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament.”

23 “The Mass ought to be the true devotion of the Faithful, it is their obligation, their Sacrifice . . . in a certain sense they lose their individuality for the time being, and are more than ever members of the Catholic Universal Church.‖- (Dom Cabrol.)

24 “Mass is an epitome of the life of Christ on earth.”- (Fr. Forster, S.J.)

25”Mass is the greatest event in the history of mankind.‖—(Fr. Plus, S.J.)

26”The Christian religion has its roots in the Mass.‖—(Fr. Forster, S.J.)

27 “THE EARNEST PRIEST SIGHS FOR THE MOMENT OF THE HOLY SACRIFICE.”- (FR. FORSTER, S.J.)

28 THE FOUR ENDS FOR WHICH MASS IS OFFERED—“ADORE TILL THE GOSPEL,

“Give thanks till the bell,

“Till Communion ask pardon

“Then all your wants tell.”—(Old Rhyme.)

29 “God . . . receives from the infinite merits of the Mass infinite adoration, infinite thanksgiving, infinite atonement, and infinite petition.”- (Father Laurence, O.D.C.)

MARCH

1 “How many Catholics seem to act as if they were sorry to have to go to Mass at all, even once a week.”- (Fr. Forster, S.J.)

2 “If Christians knew how to make use of the Mass, what wonders in the spiritual order would come to pass.”- (Mgr. Gibergues.)

3 “On Calvary the object of the Sacrifice was to pay the price of the redemption of fallen. man, whilst the purpose of the Sacrifice of the Mass is to apply to each of us individually the treasures of Grace merited and amassed by Christ on the Cross.”- (Fr. Laurence, O.D.C.)

4 “The Sacrifice of the, Mass is the best means of quickly liberating the Holy Souls from Purgatory.”- (St. Thomas.) 5 “At Mass, Heaven seems less distant . . . our attention is more concentrated, and there is a warmth of devotion that nothing else can arouse.”- (Fr. Fraser, S.J.)

6 “The Mass is advantageous to all, to mankind, to God to the world, to Purgatory, to Heaven.”- (Mgr. Gibergues.) 7 “By and in the Mass, the Church is best enabled to honour the Saints on earth, her heroes and heroines-the highest of all achievements possible to man.”- (Fr. Forster, S.J.)

8 “The Mass is the greatest joy of the Mother of our Saviour when celebrated or heard in her honour.”- (Mgr. Gibergues.)

9 “During the Elevation let us with the greatest possible attention unite our adoration with the countless angels who crowd around the altar.”- (Fr. Laurence, O.D.C.)

10 “Do not merely pray at Mass. Pray the Mass.”- (Pope Pius X.)

11”High Mass is the ideal of the Liturgy, and might be called its culminating point.”- (Fr. Forster, S.J.) 12 “Alas our praise of God is often very imperfect and worthless. We should, therefore, unite it with the infinitely perfect praise and adoration which our Head and Mediator, Jesus Christ, presents to His Heavenly Father (in the Mass).” (Gihr.)

13 “Nothing is so consoling, so piercing, so thrilling, so over-coming, as the Mass . . . it is not a mere form of words, it is a great action, the greatest action that can be, on earth.”- (Cardinal Newman.)

14 “Mass is something eminently worth hearing, for its own sake.”- (Fr. Rickaby, S.J.)

15 “The average Catholic is too often ignorant of the Church’s liturgy, enshrining as it does such a wealth of Catholic doctrine. To one who lives with the Sacred Liturgy, it tells a thousand things, that the stranger does not learn.”- (Fr. Forster, S.J.)

16 “Mass is a mystery, something we shall never quite grasp in this world. You must think, to understand the Mass.’’-(Fr. Rickaby, S.J.)

17 “The Mass is by far the best and most profitable of all devotions.”- (The Catechism.)

18 “The dignity, and value, the power and efficiency of the Mass, demonstrates that in it is the inexhaustible ocean of the Divine Mercies.”- (Gihr.)

19 “Our Martyrs died for the Mass, saying It, hearing It, having It said by stealth in their houses”-(Fr. Rickaby, S.J.} 20 “Everything in the life of the good Christian centres round the Mass.”- (Fr. Forster, S.J.)

21 “The Mass and the Last Supper both point to Calvary. The Last Supper looking forward: the Mass looking back; but Calvary is the centre for both of them.”- (Fr. Rickaby, S.J.)

22―Had we been present on Calvary, God, we feel, would have granted us any reasonable request. With the like faith, we shall be equally heard at Mass.”- (Fr. Forster, S.J.)

23―IT IS THROUGH THE SALUTARY INFLUENCE OF THE MASS THAT (THE PRIEST) PREPARES HIMSELF TO BECOME A FIT INSTRUMENT IN THE MASTER’S HANDS TO KINDLE AND SPREAD THE FIRE OF GOD’S LIVE IN our hearts.”- (Fr. Forster, S.J.)

24 “How many Christians assist at Mass without understanding or appreciating its value.”- (Mgr. Gibergues.) 25”There is nothing more august, more wonderful in the Church than the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass.‖—(Fr, Forster. S.J.)

26 “In the Mass God is marvellously near, for it is the moment of His nearest approach.”- (Dr. Hedley.) 27”The Real Presence is the foundation of the Sacrifice of the Mass.‖—(Fr. Rickaby, S.J.)

28 “The daily offering of the Mass would give us . . . a good start to begin our round of duties.”- (Fr. Forster, S.J.) 29 “If there is anything in human life absolutely divine, anything that the citizens of Heaven themselves might envy us, that certainly is the Sacrifice of the Mass.”- (Pope Urban VIII.)

30 “The important thing in Mass is not what is said, save for the words of Consecration, but what is done by the efficacy of these words.”- (Fr. Rickaby, S.J.)

31 “It is through the Mass that we are able to supply what is wanting to us.”- (Fr. Forster, S.J.)

APRIL

1 “During Mass . . . let us ask for all that we desire, and all will be granted to us, according to our faith and fervour.”- (Mgr. Gibergues.)

2 “Let us endeavour to acknowledge and appreciate the blessings that are ours through the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass.”- (Fr. Forster, S.J.)

3 “By praying for the dying during Mass we shall fulfill one of the greatest desires of Jesus Christ.’”- (Mgr. Gibergues.)

4 “In an especial way, it is through the Mass that we ask as Our Lord recommends us, in His name, for what we need for soul and body, and we are encouraged to hope to have our petitions granted.”- (Fr. Forster, S.J.) 5―Mass is Christ’s dower to the Church . . . it is the soul and life of the entire worship of the Church.”- (Fr. Forster, S.J.)

6 “At the Elevation of the Sacred Host I feel the Precious Blood flowing as a stream upon my heart, and cleansing the wounds of my soul.”- (Madame d’Arras.)

7 “Mass is a continual thanksgiving.”- (Mgr. Gibergues.)

8 “Let not Our Saviour, Who is our prisoner during Mass, depart from us until He has promised us Heaven.”- (St. Bonaventure.)

9 “He who devoutly hears Mass will receive great vigour to enable him not to fall into mortal sin, and his venial sins will be remitted.”- (St. Augustine.)

10 “During Mass the Prayer of Jesus is made for us, and it is for us to profit by it.”- (Mgr. Gibergues.)

11 “This may be the last time I shall ever offer up the Holy Mass. I will perform this duty with all possible devotion.”—(Fr. Porter.)

12 “By assisting at Mass we become more and more like to Christ, more and more united to Him.”- (Mgr. Gibergues.)

13 “The Mass is not only the Sacrifice of the Christian worship, it is also the greatest sign of the unity of the Church and its guarantee.”- (Fr. Forster, S.J.)

14 “To miss Mass is to miss the most divine Thing on earth.”- (Pope Urban III.)

15 “There is nothing of so much worth as the Mass. Our Lord desired to be remembered, it was for this that He bade His priests to offer up the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass continually.” (Fr. Dignam, S.J.)

16 “There is in the Mass the same efficacy, the same atoning power as if Christ were crucified again.”- (Fr. Forster, S.J.)

17 “Assist at Mass with fear and trembling, with purity of heart and with spiritual gladness and heavenly joy.”- (St. Ambrose.)

18 “The ritual, acts and ceremonies at the altar (during Mass) are but tokens and signs of what is hidden there.”- (Fr. W. Roche, S.J.)

19 “It (the Mass) is nothing less than the immolation, day by day, of that life-giving Victim by which we are reconciled to God “-(Dr. Hedley.)

20 “The Mass is a liturgy, that is, a sacred and public function, shared by the priest and the people.”- (Fr. McGlade, S.J.)

21 “It is certainly in and by and through the Mass that we most of all petition the Father in the name of Jesus. For in it our prayers or rather- and this is all important- the prayers of the Church are evoked in His name.”- (Fr. Forster, S.J.)

22 “No one with willful sin in his heart . . . can he fit to take part with Him in His most holy act, which we call the Mass.”- (Fr. Roche, S.J.)

23 “The Mass, which was instituted by Christ at His Last Supper, is celebrated by nearly every priest (all over the world) every day of his life.”- (Fr. Quinlan, S.J.)

24 “The right way to be present at Mass is not merely as a spectator . . . you are literally to assist at It.”- (Fr. Roche, S.J.)

25 “How elevated in tone, how full of unction are the prayers at Mass.”- (Fr. Forster, S.J.)

26 “Be sure to make the mast of every Mass you hear, and then I not only hope, but I know, the kingdom of God is at hand for you . . . and will remain with you, sanctifying the days and the hours as they pass, until the last hour strikes, and the real day begins to dawn.”- (Dr. Hedley.)

27”In coming to Mass, we are really ‗offerers of the Holy Sacrifice, not merely onlookers.’ “-(Fr. Forster, S.J.)

28 “The separation of Communion from the Sacrifice of the Mass is still more flagrant (than Communion after Mass) when it is received before Mass begins . . . what is it but expecting to receive God’s Gift, before we have given ours to Him.‖- (Fr. T. W. Busch.)

29”At Mass Jesus delivers Himself to you to do with Him as you will. ‗By Whom and with Whom and in Whom,’ these are the words of the priest. Make them your own.”- (Fr. Dignam, S.J.)

30 “Consecration of the Bread alone would be the Eucharist . . . but not the Mass. The Mass requires the mystical slaying of the Victim, and this is done by the separate consecration of the chalice . . . which represents the death of the Victim.”- (Fr. M. Scott, S.J.)

MAY

1 After the crucifixion the Mass is “the greatest event in the history of humanity.”- (Georges Goyau.)

2 “There is not a single priestly vestment nor a ceremony of the Mass which does not point to some circumstance of the Passion.”- (Fr. Porter.)

3 “The Mass gives praise, adoration, and thanks to God. It obtains pardon of our (venial) sins, and favours and graces, because in it we have a Victim Who is infinite, Jesus Christ.‖—(Fr. Ronan.)

4 “The Mass was instituted before the Crucifixion . . . in the first Mass the living Christ offered Himself to His Heavenly Father. In every Mass it is the glorious living Christ Who, by the priest, offers Himself to His Heavenly Father.”- (Fr. M. Scott, S.J.)

5 “The Sacrifice of the Mass is a clean oblation offered by a special priesthood, in every place in the world where a priest is to be found. It is being offered all through the day and night in some part of the world.”- (Fr. Ronan)

6 “Jesus gives Himself to us daily to reward us for the little we do for Him . . . He gives Himself to us as our reward whenever we offer up the Mass. -(Fr. Porter)

7 “The Mass offers to God what Christ offered on Calvary.”- (Fr. M. Scott, S.J.)

8 “If we fully realised what the Mass is, we should die.”- (The Cure d’Ars.)

9 “The Mass is the united prayer of the Church, and the laity in it, share in a general way in the priesthood of Christ.”- (Rev. W. Busch.)

10 “ . . . to assist at Mass is the holiest act of warship in which a Christian can participate.”- (Fr. M. Scott, S.J.)

11 “It is important to study the Mass, to recognize its place and the sequence of its parts . . . it matters much that we ‘pray the Mass.’”- (Fr. W. Busch.)

12 “By attendance at Mass we, with the priest, offer to God this supreme gift, the most acceptable thing that can ascend from earth to Heaven.”- (Fr. M. Scott.)

13 “There is something I have only felt at Mass and that is a sense of final calm, of absolute content . . . as if one had come into a wide, calm, shining harbour after a long and stormy voyage.”- (Maurice Baring.)

14 “As He (Almighty God) looked down on the silence and the darkness of Calvary and saw the act accomplished by which the world was redeemed, so . . . (in the Mass) He saw the same mystery accomplished.”- (R. H. Benson.)

15 “The Holy Ghost overshadows the priest and operates that same, in the elements which He effected in the womb of the Virgin Mary.”- (St. John Damascene.)

16 “In the Mass what we owed, He has paid, what we sinned, He has atoned for and abundantly satisfied Divine Justice, giving us the boundless treasure of His merits and infinite price of His blood.’’- (Paradisus Animae.)

17 “The priest, at the Consecration, repeats the words and acts of Our Lord at the Last Supper . . . it (the Consecration) is the very soul of the Mass.”- (Fr. Roche, S.J.)

18 “On the Cross the Divinity of Christ was hidden; but His humanity remained. In the Mass all are hidden, both Divinity and humanity.”- (Fr. Quinlan.)

19 “Those who neglect to offer up the Mass in word and thought, lose much that they might gain. The due blessing of Mass does not consist merely in being present at It, but in uniting oneself in spirit to the priest, to Jesus Christ Himself “-(St. Francis of Sales.)

20 “When you hear Mass the Sacrifice is your own, a gift from God the Father, as well as God the Son “-(Fr. Sanchez.)

21 “We do not know how much is forgiven by each Mass; but it is probable that the better our dispositions, the more is forgiven us.”- (Dr. Hedley.)

22 “The anger of God may be appeased by the acceptable service thou dost render Him when thou hearest Mass.”- (St. Thomas Aquinas.)

23 “The Mass was instituted to be the Church’s great Public rite of worship.”- (Dr. Hedley.)

24 “Our Mass is the same as theirs (the Christians of the third century) as regards its rites and formulas, except for a few details.”- (Dom Cabral.)

25 “The Consecration is the very heart of the Mass, the act of sacrifice itself.”- (Fr. McGlade, S.J.)

26 “It is the Mass that matters. It is the Mass that makes the difference, so hard to define, so subtle is it, yet so perceptible, between a Catholic country and a Protestant one.”- (Augustine Birrell.)

27 “As the Catholic Church is spread all over the world, the Sacrifice of the Mass is always being offered somewhere day and night, thus fulfilling the prophecy of Malachy (i. 11)”- (Fr. Pritchard.)

28”The Missal is our ‗book of common prayer’: it is The Mass book par excellence. You will never tire of it, so varied are its prayers. You will never regret the outlay in getting one (a Missal); for it makes the Mass yours as nothing else can.”- (Fr. McGlade, S.J.)

29 “If you start with a good sign of the Cross, God will help you to hear Mass well. Mass is the biggest, the most important thing you do, the thing most pleasing to God that you can do.”- (Fr. Drinkwater.)

30 “It is Mass and the Blessed Sacrament which make our religion a real, a personal, a living religion.”-(Cardinal Gasquet.)

31 “There is a symbolism, a definite meaning to every ceremony in the Mass.”- (Rev. J. O’Brien, Ph.D)

JUNE

1 “Is it stop away from Mass whilst I have the legs under me to struggle to the chapel of a morning! Why, Sunday Mass is our obligation; but daily Mass is our splendid Privilege.”- (An old Dublin Woman.)

2 “There is not time at Mass for wandering thoughts.”- (Fr. Drinkwater.)

3 “There is nothing of so much worth as Holy Mass. Souls who are greedy of Holy Mass, who think themselves richer for every Mass they hear, whose hearts long for the time of Mass to begin, these are the souls who pass through life, made strong by God.”- (Fr. Dignam, S.J.)

4 “The ends for which the Mass is said are to give God honour and glory, to thank Him for His benefits, and to obtain remission of our sins, and all other blessings, through Jesus Christ.”- (The Catechism.)

5 “In the Eastern Churches, the ordinary word for Mass is Liturgy.”- (Dr. Sheehan.)

6 “No work can be performed by the Faithful so holy, so Divine, as this tremendous Mystery (of the Mass).”- (The Council of Trent.)

7 “To assist at Mass well and profitably two things are necessary- first, modesty of person; second—devotion of heart.”- (Pope Pius X.)

8 “This is an age of athletes, yet how many are not able to kneel down at the proper time: that is when the Sanctus bell rings? They remain sitting until they hear the warning bell, at the Elevation itself‖—(Rev. A. Hickie.) 9 “The words of the Mass, themselves, tell you that you are not present as though you were merely praying to God, but that you are actually joining with the priest, and with Christ Himself, in offering Sacrifice.”- (Dr. Sheehan.) 10 “Even if Mass can be omitted without sin, its constant omission has very serious effects on an individual. Through living constantly without aid (of the Mass) people become careless and indifferent, and in this way their Faith grows cold, and they may finally give up the practice of their religion.”- (Fr. Lattey, S.J.)

11 “The Mass is the very life of the Church, the secret of her holiness, of her vitality.”- (Dr. Sheehan.) 12 “The Mass is the mainspring of devotion, the soul of piety, the fire of charity.”- (St. Francis of Sales.) 13 “No wonder that the spirit of darkness should halve inspired heretics with hatred for the Mass, for they knew when they strike the Mass they strike at the heart of the Church.‖—(Dr. Sheehan.)

14 “In the Mass the Christian family finds its unity, its mutual love and forbearance. Missionaries draw from the Mass their hope and their courage. Hardworking priests their comfort, and all pastors of souls the fruit and fullness of their ministry.”- (Dr. Hedley.)

15 “Mass is not just a number of prayers accidentally surrounding a Communion.”-(Fr. Martindale, S.J.) 16 “The form . . . of celebrating Mass is what we understand by the Liturgy (which literally means ‘public service’) in general it denotes all the externals of Mass, i.e., all that we see during its celebration.”-(Dr. Sheehan.) 17 “Holy Mass far surpasses in dignity all other . . . rites of the Church . . . it is an inexhaustible ocean of Divine bounty for the living and the dead.”- (Bishop Fornerus.)

18 “The great source of holiness is the Mass . . . the Apostles drew from it their heroic resolution, the martyrs their strength . . . the virgins their purity and self-denial, every confessor of Christ his contempt of the world.”-(Dr. Hedley.)

19 “The Mass, as instituted by Christ, consists of the Consecration, and the Communion . . . the Church has added many beautiful prayers and impressive ceremonies, and has surrounded the Sacred Mysteries with great solemnities.”

- (Dr.Hedley.)

20 “The first object of the Mass is the acknowledgment of the Supreme dominion of God . . . the second object is thanksgiving.”- (Dr. Hedley.)

21 “Communion is so integral in the full notion of Sacrifice that I ought to be careful to make a Spiritual Communion at every Mass I go to”- (Fr. Martindale.)

22 “I do not say that Mass directly forgives sin, like the Sacrament of Penance does, but it moves God to give the grace of repentance . . . the Maas infallibly has this effect.”- (Dr. Hedley.)

23 “What a treasure-house of spirituality we have in the Mass, if only we could appreciate it and use it profitably.”- (Fr. Laurence, O.D.C.)

24 “Jesus Christ, in the Mass, takes up the human creature, Who assists at it, and holds his poor heart within the burning circle of His own Heart, so that the adoration . . . of both, go up to the Father together.”- (Dr. Hedley.) 25 “There is never a moment of the day or night in which Mass is not being actually offered up in one or other part of the world.”- (Fr. McDonnell, S.J.)

26 “The benefits derived from the Mass are called its fruits and are fourfold . . . The first go to the entire Church, the second to those present, the third to those for whom the priest offers the Mass; the fourth to the priest himself.”- (Dr. Sheehan.)

27 “‘In the life of Jesus Christ there was one moment beyond all others, He called it His ‗hour.’ It was the hour in which He gave His life for us on the Cross. In the Mass we are with Him at that supreme moment . . . hence, it is that assisting at Mass is superior to all religious exercises, to all private prayers and penances.”- (Dr. Sheehan) 28 “High Mass is not a padded out version of Low Mass, but Low Mass is an abbreviated High Mass.”-(Fr. Martindale, S.J.)

29 “Those who neglect to offer up the Mass in word and thought lose much that they might gain.”-(Fr. McGlade, S.J.)

30 “It is only by being united to the Victim that we perfectly participate in the Sacrifice.”-(Abbot Marmion, O.S.B.)

JULY

1 “The Liturgical revival will come through the use of the Missal.”- (Fr. Martindale, S.J.)

2 “By this inestimable gift (of the Mass) the Divine indignation and anger are fully appeased.”- (Albertus Magnus.)

3 “It is good to know the Missal and to know about the Missal, and above all to share in the mind of the Missal.’ For then you know that the ‘mind of the Church, which made the Missal, is also yours.”- (Fr. Martindale, S.J.)

4 “Spiritual gifts are freely given to those who assist at Mass reverently.”- (St. Cyril.)

5 “I can assist at many Masses at the same time when they are being celebrated at different altars and share in their fruits, provided I am physically present and have the intention‖.—(Fr. Lawrence, O.D.C.)

6―Think of the acts of Jesus on the Cross by which the God of Sovereign Majesty is supremely worshipped, the Just God is perfectly appeased, the bounteous God abundantly thanked, the Mighty God efficaciously entreated for help.”- (Dr. Sheehan.)

7 The priest calls Christ into being by his consecrated lips.”-(St. Jerome.)

8 “Without it (the Mass) we can never thank God rightly for his benefits.”- (Fr. Segneri, S.J.)

9 “The souls in Purgatory are helped principally by the Mass.”—(The Council of Trent.)

10 “The best preparation we can make for a happy death is to assist at Mass daily, above all if we add daily, or very frequent Communion.”- (Fr. McDonnell, S.J.)

11 “As often as thou sayest or hearest Mass, it ought to seem as great, as new, as delightful as if Christ . . . hanging on the Cross was suffering and dying for the salvation of man.”- (Thomas a Kempis.)

12 “When Christ is immolated on the altar He Speaks to His Father, He shows Him the marks of His wounds . . . that by His intercession we may be saved from everlasting torment.”- (St. Lawrence Justinian.)

13 “The Mass is the very soul of all Catholic worship and devotion. Nothing is more important to you, if you would be a devout Catholic, than to understand what the Mass is, and how you ought to assist at it.”- (Bishop Bagshawe.)

14 “The Mass is the holiest, the most Divine work that the Catholic has to do.”-(Dr. Medley.)

15 “‘Christ was and is both priest and victim. He is priest according to the Spirit and Victim according to the flesh. He is both the Sacrificer and the Thing sacrificed.”- (St. John Chrysostom.)

16 “The best method is to follow the prayers in Your prayer book. You may find the Missal the best prayer book . . . no prayers are to be compared to those which the Church has placed on the lips of the priest.’”- (Fr. McDonnell, S.J.)

17 “The Holy Mass is as full of Mysteries as the ocean is full of drops, as the sky is full of stars, as the court of Heaven is full of angels.”- (St. Bonaventure.)

18―What a consoling thought, that the frequent and devout attendance at Mass will preserve our souls from everlasting death.”- (Fr. McDonnell, S.J.)

19 “In Holy Maas we receive treasures so wonderful and so real, gifts so divine and so costly, benefits so many, concerning this temporal life, hope so certain for the life to come, that, without Faith, it would be impossible to believe these assertions to be true.”- (Sanchez.)

20 “In the Mass we are made to participate in the fruits of Christ’s death, just as though He were expiring before our eyes.”- (Cardinal Hosius.)

21 “Although we cannot see with the eyes of the flesh, the day will come when the ways of Providence will be made manifest to us, it will then be seen how many were indebted to the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass for their salvation.”- (Pagani.)

22 “By His death and Passion, Christ collected the riches which is the Treasury, The Mass is the key which unlocks it.”- (Fr Segneri, S.J. )

23 “The first idea of prayer is to go up to the mountain of God to adore and hold Communion with Him, and this is specially the idea of the Holy Mass.”- (Bishop Bagshawe.)

24 “The angels, in profound astonishment, are unable to witness the prodigies wrought in a single Mass, without shrinking from the spectacle. Here they behold nothing terrestrial, nothing human, nothing finite. All is celestial, all Divine, all infinite.”- (Pagani.)

25 “We do not go to Mass to join in the words which the priest is saying; but to take part in the action which he is doing. The essence of hearing Mass is to join, devoutly, with the priest in his intention of offering Sacrifice . . .”- (Bishop Bagshawe.)

26 “The Mass then may be called the Sun of the Church, dissipating the clouds of darkness, the rainbow of peace, in dictating that the anger of God is cooled and His vengeance disarmed, the golden key that unlocks the treasury of Heavenly blessings, the channel through which the waters of Divine mercy are conveyed to our souls.”- (Pagani.)

27 “Our Divine Saviour, by means of the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass applies to us the merits of His Passion. It is therefore an efficacious means of procuring Heavenly blessings. Moreover, temporal goods are not denied, when conducive to the salvation of our souls.”-(Pagani.)

28 “Some imagine they can have no share in the August Sacrifice, because they cannot be present at It . . . Thus, they lose altogether the blessing they might gain in time of sickness by union of intention with the Divine Victim.”- (The Abbe Perreyve.)

29 “Assistance at Mass is of great advantage; it unites us with the great Sacrifice of Calvary, reminds us of the great love of Jesus, and gives us new vigour for the sacrifices inseparable from a virtuous life.”- (Fr. Pesch, S.J.)

30 “The symbolism of every movement of the priest during Mass and of the vestments all help to raise the soul to God and impress it with the marvellous mysteries of the Faith.”- (Madame d’Arras.)

31 “The Mass is the very centre and core of the Christian religion, the mainspring of the Christian life.”- (Cardinal Vaughan.)

AUGUST

1 “The Mass dispenses the grace once merited (by Our Lord) on the Cross.’’- (Cardinal Vaughan.)

2 “He who attends Holy Mass shall be freed from many evils, and from many dangers.”- (St. Gregory)

3 “Within the Mass is that same ocean of grace and merit out of which the angels and the elect of God have drawn the whole store of their sanctity and glory.”- (Cardinal Vaughan.)

4 “Mass is a sacrifice whereby the priest not only commemorates, but veritably continues, the sacrifice of the Cross, and applies the merits of the One Eternal Victim to the wants of individual souls, and the universal Church.”- (Abbe Perreyve.)

5 “The Mass as a propitiating Sacrifice is more effective than the most severe penances in cancelling the debt of punishment due to sin.”-(Cardinal Vaughan.)

6 “Every effort made, every step taken, every inconvenience and pain endured, every taste mortified in order to hear Mass is faithfully recorded in the Book of Life.”- (Cardinal Vaughan.)

7 “Do you know that the most obscure priest who celebrates Mass at the altar of a remote village church enriches the treasure of the Universal Church and adds, so to speak, to the glories of Heaven.”-(Abbe Perreyve.)

8 “The Mass was an eternal Fact in the mind of Almighty God . . . It needed nothing that man could add to Its essential perfection. It was aloof, austere, silent, dignified, yet delicately tender, and infinite loving.”-(E. C. Alder in Via Romana.)

9 “That wrapt, chastened and prayerful look that one has seen on the faces of the Irish peasantry, communing with God as they await Holy Mass.”-(Amo Nesciri.)

10 “Don’t go to Mass without a Prayer Book, or at least a Rosary, unless you wish distraction and not devotion to fill your mind.”- (Dr. Conaty.)

11 “The martyrs under Henry VIII died for the Holy See. Later it was for the Mass that they suffered. Would that their intercession obtain for use some realization of the value of the Sacrifice of the Mass.”-(Dr. Amigo.)

12 “Do we really prize the privilege of Daily Maas and Holy Communion? Do we mind, when some obstacles get in our way?”- (Dr. Pearson.)

13 “Don’t get into the habit of being late for Mass. A minute’s preparation before Mass may be the means of opening your soul to many graces.”- (Dr. Conaty.)

14 “It (the Mass) proclaims the Majesty of God, the necessity of Sacrifice, the perfect Victim, the only Hope of Sinners.”-(E. C. Alder.)

15 “The Mass is the most powerful means which God has given us to render Him honour, to thank Him for His blessings, to obtain the favours that we want.”-(Fr. Degen.)

16 “At the hour of death, the Masses that we have heard will be our greatest consolations.”-(Flowers of Nazareth.)

17 “The best way to hear Mass is the liturgical way, that is, to follow the priest step by step, and prayer for prayer.”- (Fr. Degen.)

18 “When you are present at Mass make it your own. The Mass is so solemn, so serious, and its varied parts follow each other so closely, so quickly, that the worshipper cannot afford to miss any of them, to be absent-minded or distracted.”-(Anon. in A Wreath of Violets.)

19 “Try to find the places in the Missal before you come to Mass.”- (Fr. Degen.)

20 “They (the Collects) are, indeed, sonnets of prayer and true poems of devotion (and they come from our Missal).”- (Fr. Degen.)

21 “Attend carefully to the services of the Church with thy heart and thy voice, especially when the moment of Consecration comes during Mass.”-(St. Louis of France, to his Son.)

22 “The never-ceasing Mass, the myriads of Communions every morning, and it is always morning somewhere on this beautiful world of ours-all this goes on for ever, from the rising to the setting of the sun. Blot all this out, and how dark and dull, and lonely the earth would be.”-(Anon. in The Dowry of Mary.)

23 “It may strike you that the prayers (of the Missal) are comparatively cold. Liturgical language is simple, dignified, restrained, like Our Lord’s own prayer, the Our Father, and is thus suited to the needs of every type of world-wide humanity.”-(Fr. Degen.)

24 “A priest clad in his sacred vestments is Christ’s vice-regent, to pray to God for himself, and for all the people, in a suppliant and humble manner.”- (Imitation of Christ, iv. 5.)

25 “The worthiest thing, most of goodness

In all this world, it is the Mass,

If a thousand clerks did nought else

(According as St. Jerome tells)

But told the profit of Mass hearing

And the virtues of Mass singing,

Yet, should they never tell the fifth apart.”

- (Lay Folks’ Mass Book.)

26 “Those best understand and love the Holy Mass who are accustomed to take every joy and care and project to the altar.”-(Mother Loyola.)

27 “The Mass is a real, true and propitiatory sacrifice, so teaches the Council of Trent . . . and thus has the Church taught ever since Apostolic days.”- (Dr. Arenzden.)

28 “The whole portion of the Mass, which is called the Canon, is thirteen or fourteen hundred years old, and Pope Vigilius testified that it had been received from Apostolic traditions. No additions have been made to it, since the days of Pope Gregory the Great.”- (Mother Phillippa.)

29 “Our Faith, our ceremonies, our lives are grouped round this supreme act of worship.”-(Fr. Bede Jarrett, O.P.)

30 “The Mass is not the repetition, but the continuation, of Calvary.”- (Fr. Bede Jarrett, O.P.)

31 ‘The Mass is the very centre and core of the Christian Religion, the mainspring of the spiritual life.”- (Cardinal Vaughan.}

SEPTEMBER

1 “To encourage my own devotion to this tremendous mystery, let me consider what the Mass must have meant to the mother of God. .”-(Fr. Bede Jarrett, O.P.)

2 “In the Holy Mass we have the best opportunity for receiving an answer to our prayers.”- (Dom Whitman, O.S.B.) 3 No greater service can be rendered to souls than to persuade them frequently and devoutly to draw health and happiness from the great Fountain which irrigates the whole Church.”- (Cardinal Vaughan.)

4 “Our forefathers, in the days of persecution, risked all for the Mass.”-(Fr. Bede Jarrett, O.P.) 5 “In It (the Mass) we have a Victim that is infinite . . . a Victim that is holy, a Victim that is worthy to appear before the Throne of God.”-(Fr. Ronan.)

6 “To value aright my privilege of the Mass, I must follow intelligently the whole ceremony, from the Confiteor to the Last Gospel.”- (Fr. Bede Jarrett, O.P.)

7 “It is more advantageous to your friends to offer your Mass than your Communion for them. The latter is instituted for the nourishment of the communicant. The former for the welfare, spiritual and temporal of all for whom it is offered.”- (Cardinal Vaughan.)

8 “Think how the Mass is, in a real sense, the centre of Catholicity. All the Faith is gathered round it, so that from the mere wording of the Mass the rest of the Creed could be almost wholly deduced.”- (Fr. Bede Jarrett, O.P.) 9 “The Mass is the ‘Hidden Treasure,’ hidden to all but the eyes of Faith.”- (Cardinal Vaughan.) 10 “The Sacraments are arranged round this wonderful Sacrifice as the setting round the gem.”- (Fr. Bede Jarrett, O.P.)

11 “The Mass and the Incarnation, of Which the former is a repetition, are the most wonderful facts of the world’s history.”-(Dr. Gilmartin.)

12 “The Mass carries a man over his difficulties as a ship over a stormy sea.”- (Cardinal Vaughan.) 13 “Enter into the Mass and you enter into the Divine spirit of Sacrifice . . . Contact with the Mass makes sacrifice ‗sweet’ and the cross ‗light.’”—(Cardinal Vaughan.)

14 “By the daily sacrifice of the Mass the Church, which is the body of Christ, learns to offer herself, through Him, Who is her head.”-(St. Augustine.)

15 “Form as many intentions as you will, you cannot exhaust or even diminish a treasury of Infinite merits.”- (Cardinal Vaughan.)

16 “I would like people at Mass, even on the most ordinary Sunday, to be filled with the happy conviction that something good and great is about to happen, both here on this altar, in the world, and in their own lives.”- (Fr. Martindale, S.J.)

17 “The Collect in the Mass of the day should always be carefully studied, for it expresses the leading idea of the feast and contains excellent doctrine in a short, but perfect form.‖—(Monks of Farnborough in The Liturgy.)

18 “The Post Communion is a prayer of the same structure and rhythm as the Collect and Secret. It varies with them.”-(Monks of Farnborough.)

19 “The Pater Noster is the perfect prayer. It was taught by Christ Himself to His Apostles and by them to the whole world. It was for this reason that Pope Gregory the Great wished to join it to the Canon of the Mass.”-(The Monks of Farnborough.)

20 “It is, indeed, through Christ, with Christ, and in Christ, that this Sacrifice is offered.”-(The Monks of Farnborough.)

21 “It is the Mass that makes the priest possible, the confessional that makes him necessary.”- (Fr. Bede Jarrett, O.P.)

22 “For it (the Mass) are our churches built. It is the centre of their construction . . . without it the most splendid places of worship seem empty, and with it, however poorly or badly they may appear, they are made alive.”-(Fr. Bede Jarrett, O.P.)

23―If some Irish homes are little sanctuaries, is it not due to daily Mass, to frequent Communion, or to the Rosary recited nightly in the family circle?”-(Fr. McDonnell, S.J.)

24 “‘St. Joseph is patron of priests, for his arms and his heart were once the consecrated altar where Jesus the Victim of our salvation lay.”- (Fr. Chandlery, S.J.)

25 “At Mass the priest turns repeatedly to the congregation . . . because priests and people should offer the Holy Sacrifice together.”-(Bishop von Kettler.)

26 “In the Mass Christ places Himself in our hands and commands us to offer Him to the Heavenly Father.”- (Dr. Arenzden.)

27 “Oh, what a consolation for us that we have it in our power so frequently to offer up a sacrifice which has the power to blot out our sins.”-(Fr. Porter.)

28 “Can we believe the Mass to be, in very truth the renewal of Calvary, and find it in our hearts to be absent?”- (Mother Loyola.)

29 “The Sacrifice of the Cross is continued in the Mass, not as if it were insufficient in itself, but that we may be present at it and unite ourselves with Jesus who offers it.”-(Fr. Pesch, S.J.)

30 “Holy Mass is a brief epitome of our Lord’s life.”-(Bishop Fornerus.)

OCTOBER

1 “The Mass is the sovereign act of homage which man pays to the Creator. It is THE Sacrifice, the only one, which, really without any exaggeration, is worthy of God.”- (Dr. Gilmartin.)

2―One prayer offered at Mass is worth many prayers offered at other times.”-(Sister Marie Marthe Chambon.) 3 “Grant me the grace to offer up Mass today, and in future with greater fervour that I may atone for my past negligence.‖—(Fr. Porter)

4 “The altar of Sacrifice will always be the great school of Sacrifice.”-(Pere Plus, S.J.)

5 “When we offer Jesus Christ to God (as in the Mass) we learn to offer ourselves together with Him to the Divine Majesty in Him and by Him as living victims.”-(Bossuet )

6 “In every Mass Jesus is the shield between Heaven and earth; between God’s justice and our sins.”-(Pere Plus, S.J.) 7 “The most fruitful time to offer the Sacred Wounds of Jesus, for sinners, is during the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass.”-(Sister M. Chambon.)

8 “All who hear Mass properly receive treasure of grace beyond our powers of reckoning, and out of all proportion to their dispositions.”-(Mother M. Loyola.)

9 “During Mass the Sacred Wounds of Jesus are opened and the Precious Blood flows freely on all present.”-(Sister M. M. Chambon.)

10 “The Prayers of the Missal, both before and after the consecration are as so many jewels surrounding the Pearl of Great Price.”-(Fr. Lawrence, O.D.C.)

11 “I offer up . . . this Sacrifice of Propitiation for those in particular who have in any way injured me, grieved me, or abused me, or have done me any damage or displeasure”-(Imitation of Christ.)

12 “As members of Him, Christ would have us take an active part in the one great Sacrifice of Himself by which He redeemed us.”-(Fr. de la Taille.)

13 “Every sacrifice that our coming to Him (at Mass) costs us, He knows and values and will reward.”-(Mother Loyola.)

14 “The Missal contains no dry dogmatic teaching, monotonous and dull, but words, chants and ceremonies combined.”- (Fr. Farrell, C.S.Sp.)

15 “How few hear Mass with all the profit to themselves and souls which could he gained if people would realize that the Mass is the renewal of Our Lord’s Passion.”-(Sister M. M. Chambon.)

16 “The Roman Missal derives its descent from . . . St. Gregory’s Mass book, which Pope Hadrian sent to Charlemagne . . . between the years A.D. 784 and 791.”-(Fr. Lucas, S.J.)

17 “If the Faithful, at Mass, would only put themselves in spirit beneath the Cross with Our Lady and St. John, and there offer the sufferings of Jesus, and His Precious Bleed for the conversion of sinners they could open Heaven to many souls.”-(Sister M. M. Chambon.)

18 “How is it that in our churches, whether it be during Holy Mars or at any other service, there are so many indifferent, distracted souls? . . . they believe that Jesus is present, but their faith is tepid and superficial.”- (Mgr. de Segur.)

19 “Great is this mystery, and great the dignity of priests, to whom that is given which is not granted to angels.”- (Imitation of Christ, iv. 5.)

20 “When impossible to be bodily present at Mass, assist in spirit. This you can do at all hours of the day and night.”- (Cardinal Vaughan.)

21 “The Mass is not a mere prayer in which the faithful join, it is the official, public sacrifice of the Catholic Church offered in the name of the whole Church for the living and the dead, no matter to what country they belong.”-(Fr. Ronan.)

22 “The use of the Latin language tends to establish unity of worship and to foster a greater reverence for the words and the phraseology of the Mass”-(Fr. Ronan.)

23 “Everything in the Mass concentrates on the Blessed Trinity and the Divine Victim.”-(Cardinal Vaughan.)

24 “All the crosses made (in the Mass) before the Consecration signify blessing. All after, signify the Cross on which the Victim died.”- (Cardinal Vaughan.)

25 “How few Catholics realize that they are co-operators in the daily mystery of the altar, as it is celebrated in every land at every hour.”- (Fr. D’Arcy, S.J.)

26 “It seems to me that at Holy Mass we are, as it were, almighty, not through any merit of our own, but on account of the greatness of our offering.”- (Theresa Higginson.)

27 “The Mass is the strongest bond of charity between the pastors and the faithful.”-(Fr. Forster, S.J.)

28 “It is most true that he who attends Mass shall be freed from many evils and from many dangers, both foreseen and unforeseen.”-(St. Gregory.)

29 “During Mass the angels assist the priest, all the orders of celestial spirits raise their voices, and the vicinity of the altar is occupied by choirs of angels who do homage to Him Who is being immolated.”-(St. John Chrysostom.)

30 “The Mass is the treasury of the Church. There God is most lavish of His richest graces, there Jesus Christ, through His minister, distributes the immensity of His wealth.”-(Fr. Millet, S.J.)

31 “The altar is another Calvary, where Jesus immolates Himself each day for love of us.”-(Fr. Lasance.)

NOVEMBER

1 “In the Mass God is honoured, as He deserves, because He is honoured by Jesus.”-(St. Leonard of Port Maurice.)

2 “Jesus Christ is Priest, Offerer, and Offering (in the Mass).”-(St. Augustine.)

3 “The Mass is that clean oblation, that cannot be spoiled by any unworthiness or sinfulness on the part of the offerer.” -(The Council of Trent.)

4 “Christ Himself is Victim Sacrifice, Priest, Altar, God, Man, King, Pontiff, Lamb, all in all for us.”-(St. Epiphanius.)

5 “The Mass is a remembrance of the Passion of Christ, a solemn adoration of the Divine Majesty, a most acceptable thanksgiving toGod, a powerful means of obtaining forgiveness for our sins.‖—(Fr. Lasance.)

6 “In the Mass are contained all the fruits, all the graces, yea all the immense treasures which the Son of God poured out so abundantly upon the Church, His Spouse, in the bloody Sacrifice of the Cross.”-(St. Thomas.)

7 “The Mass is, indeed, an epitome of Divine Wisdom and of Divine love-a wondrous institution which could only emanate from the Wisdom, power and love of God.”-(Fr. McDonnell, S.J.)

8 “To say Mass worthily would require three eternities, the first to prepare oneself, the second to celebrate, the third to give thanks for so great a favour.”-(St. John Eudes.)

9 “The same love which fastened Jesus by nails to the Cross binds Him still, for our sakes, to the altar.”- (Fr. Lasance.)

10 “Without doubt the Lord grants all the favours which are asked of Him in the Mass, provided they be those fitting for us.”-(St. Jerome.)

11 “The active participation in the Holy Mysteries and in the public and solemn prayers of the Church is the first and indispensable source of the true Christian spirit.”- (Pope Pius X.)

12 “From the rising of the sun to the going down, my name is great among the Gentiles, and in every place there is sacrifice, and there is offered in my name a clean oblation.”-(Mal. i. ii.)

13 “That grand act is so quiet, so brief, so frequent.”-(Bishop Hedley.)

14 “The priest says Oremus “Let us pray,” not Oro “I pray,” because all the assistants (at Mass) ought to pray with him, and he prays in the name of them all.”- (St. Alphonsus.)

15 “There is no creature, not even an angel, worthy to offer to God the adorable sacrifice of the Mass, yet, notwithstanding, I counsel you to offer it often, with fear and respect.”-(His Abbot to St. Peter Celestine.)

16 “The angels are present at the Sacrifice of the Mass. They compass the altar in honour of Him Who is offered upon it, where the King is, there also is His Court.”- (St. John Chrysostom.)

17 “The Mass is the one essential act of public worship of the Church.”-(B. F. C. Costelloe.)

18 “ . . . a message from Heaven . . . at Mass I think the message is there . . . if we are in a state to receive it.”-(M. Baring)

19 “Those who neglect Mass on Sundays, let their children play . . . instead of sending them to church. draw down upon themselves the terrible anger of God.”-(Mother Loyola.)

20 “The Mass is, in the strictest sense, Divine Worship. Catholics offer it to God alone, praying Mary and the saints to join, as fellow worshippers.”-(Fr. F. E. Pritchard.)

21 “The Commandment of the Church is that we hear Mass, not a part of Mass . . . it is a venial sin to be absent or late through our own fault during a less important part of Mass.‖—(Mother Loyola.)

22 “ . . . the wide and fundamental distinction between the Mass, and every other form of public worship, I have called it The realisation of the Presence of God.”-(F. B. Costelloe.)

23 “By every Mass the Church is extended, protected, and prospered, and her children are helped in ways we shall never know in this life.”- (Mother Loyola.)

24 “As the Mass is offered for all who are present, so the best kind of devotion is attentively to apply ourselves to all that the priest says and does.”-(St. Alphonsus Rodriguez.)

25 “There its no time fitter to converse with God than that of the Divine Sacrifice so that we ought carefully to manage so precious an occasion, and try to profit of it, by daily offering this sacrifice, with the priest.”- (St. John Chrysostom.)

26 “It is a most profitable and pious devotion, whilst the priest really communicates under the two species, we should communicate spiritually.”-(St. Alphonsus Rodriguez.)

27 “Who can doubt but that when the Sacrifice of the Mass is offered, the Heavens open at the voice of the priest, and that an infinity of blessed, spirits, like good courtiers who everywhere follow their Prince, descend with Jesus Christ.”-(St. Gregory.)

28 “The property of this Sacrifice is to appease God, as it is this the Apostle expresses by these words: ‗He offered Himself to God for us, to be a Victim of an agreeable odour.’”- (St. Paul Eph. v. 2.)

29 “He that says Mass does nothing else but represent the person of Jesus Christ. It is in His name and as His minister that he offers this Sacrifice.”-(St. Alphonsus Rodriguez.)

30 “The more we consider it, the more we shall realize that we could share in no higher work than in the forming of good priests.”-(St. Vincent de Paul.)

DECEMBER

1 “Mass is not a mere form of words. It is a great action, the greatest that can be, on earth.”-(Cardinal Newman.)

2 “It (the Mass) is a mystery that can only be called tremendous.”- (Dr. Hedley.)

3 “There is no obligation to go to daily Mass. True, but . . . what is fitting?”- (Mother Loyola.)

4”All who can do so should learn to use and love the Roman Missal.‖ -(Fr. Lucas, S.J.)

5 “The order of the Mass is so well arranged that most of the prominent events of Our Saviour’s life . . . are contained or recalled in the prayers or typified in the ceremonies prescribed in the Mass.”-(Pope Innocent III.)

6―All the merits of creatures are but of finite worth, but the value of one Mass is infinite.”—(Mother Loyola.)

7―If the Mass is to be for us what it ought to be, it is very important that we have a clear understanding of it, as a whole, in its unity of structure and of purpose.”-(Rev. W. Busch.)

8―The best prayers are those of the Liturgy which God Himself has taught us, those alone which are expressed in language worthy of Him.”-(Huysmans.)

9 “The Gospel is the doctrine of Jesus Christ. Before reading it the priest makes the sign of the cross on the open book, because it is Jesus crucified whom he preaches.”- (St. Alphonsus. )

10 “Throughout the Mass we read of sacrifice to God—the highest and greatest sacrifice ever offered to Him-the sacrifice of the Body and Blood of Christ.”-(Bagshawe.)

11 “Take some trouble to hear Mass well, and always think of those words: ‗Before prayer, prepare thy soul and be not as a man that tempteth God.”-(Bagshawe.)

12 “The Mass is the daily direct and immediate interposition of God on earth, to work a wonder of beneficence which can only be paralleled by His Incarnation.”-(Bishop Hedley.)

13 “When you see a priest offering Mass, do not consider that it is only the priest; but look more attentively, and see the stretched-out hands of God.”-(St. John Chrysostom.)

14 “Not less doth God seem to do, when He deigneth to descend daily from Heaven upon the altar, than He did when He assumed human nature and became incarnate.”-(St. Bonaventure.)

15 “Who can doubt at the moment of immolation, when the priest utters the word, the heavens open, and that the choirs of Angels are present at that solemn act of Jesus Christ-that Heaven and earth intermingle and the highest is joined with the lowly.”-(St. Gregory.)

16 “So great a gift could not be found in heaven itself as God offered to God, for such is the oblation we offer in the Sacrifice of the Mass.”-(Fr. Nicholas Molloy, O.S.A.)

17 “There (at Mass) is the whole Catholic Church communicating to her priests the mission she has received from her Divine Spouse, to continue the Sacrifice, and there acts and speaks through its ambassadors.”- (Abbe Perreyve.)

18 “The Eucharistic renewing of Christ’s death is the result of that infinite fullness of redemption that is in Christ’s mortal life.”- (Abbot Vonier.)

19 “Because Christ merited infinitely . . . we have the Real Presence, we have the daily sacrifice of the Christian altar.”- (Ibid.)

20 “All souls who are united to the Church by the bond of charity join, even without knowing it, in the oblation offered on every altar throughout the world, and partake of its merits.”- (Abbe Perreyve.)

21 “HOLY ANGEL AT MY SIDE, GO TO CHURCH FOR ME;

Kneel for me at Holy Mass, where I wish to be.

Pray the Sacrifice Divine may our sins efface;

Bring me Jesus’ blessing down,

Pledge of every grace.”- (D.H.B.)

22 “He would have us become co-offerers with Himself . . . in order that the world may have the honour of working out its own redemption by paying the more than sufficient price put at its disposal by Christ, our Redeemer.”- (Fr. De Taille.)

23 “Thou, O Lord, though Thou hast ascended to glory, hast renewed and perpetuated Thy sacrifice to the end of all things.”- (Newman.)

24 “Yes, my Lord; though Thou hast left the world, Thou art daily offered up in the Mass, and though Thou canst not suffer pain and death, Thou dost still subject Thyself to indignity and restraint to carry out to the full Thy mercies towards us.”- (Ibid.)

25 “This is not due to man’s merits, that a man should consecrate and handle the Sacrament of Christ, and receive for food the bread of angels.”- (Imitation of Christ.)

26 “Priests alone, rightly ordained in the Church, have the power of celebrating Mass and consecrating the Body of Christ.”- (Ibid.)

27 “When a priest celebrateth, he honoureth God, he rejoiceth the angels, he edifieth the Church, he helpeth the living, he obtaineth rest for the departed, and maketh himself partaker of all that is good.”- (Ibid.)

28 “There is no oblation more worthy, nor satisfaction greater for the washing away of sins, than to offer thyself purely and entirely to God, together with the Oblation of the Body of Christ in the Mass and in the Communion.”- (Ibid.)

29―As I willingly offered Myself to God the Father for thy sins . . . even so oughtest thou to offer thyself daily to Me in the Mass.”- (Ibid.)

30 “Receive me with this sacred Oblation of Thy Precious Body, which I offer to Thee this day . . . that it may be for my salvation and that of all Thy People.”- (Ibid.)

31 “When the last Mass shall have been said, the Sacrifice of supplication and reparation shall cease, but the worship of adoration and thanksgiving shall continue through eternity for those who have been associated with the Cross and with the altar of Our Divine Lord Jesus Christ.”- (Fr. Farrell, C.S.Sp.)

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The Message of The Rosary I

BY REV. A. BISKUPEK, S.V.D

INDEX

THE GLORIOUS MYSTERIES

The Glorious Mysteries give us a preview, so to say, and a foretaste of the glory that awaits us in the life to come, which eye has not seen and ear has not heard and the human heart has not experienced. For this reason they most powerfully stimulate Christian fervour and perseverance. Now, and not only in heaven, must we rise in a spiritual sense with Christ from the death of sin and walk in newness of life; now our thoughts and desires must dwell in heaven and delight in the company of angels and saints; now we must prepare our body for its glorified life by giving unstintingly of our physical strength to the service of God. In the light of these mysteries we recognize the important role which bodily pain and hardship plays in the Christian way of the cross and we learn to mortify the body with all its evil inclinations now so that it may live eternally. Not only in heaven but now must Mary be our Queen in whose service we glory and the imitation of whose virtues we make the ambition of our lives. Under the influence of the Holy Spirit these mysteries convey invincible courage, patience, peace and joy. The Holy Spirit has made us His temples and dwells in us now, so that full of the Holy Spirit we shall rise in glory on the day of resurrection.

THE RESURRECTION

“If in this life only we have hope in Christ, we are,” according to St. Paul “of all men most miserable. But now Christ has risen from the dead” (1 Cor. 15, 19–20). The Resurrection is a postulate of God’s justice and love. Jesus glorified the Father in His life and Passion, now the Father glorifies Him; Jesus humbled himself, becoming obedient unto death upon a cross, and therefore the Father has exalted Him and has given Him the name which is above all names, so that in the name of Jesus the knees of all must bend, of those that are in heaven, on earth, and under the earth. The same principle holds, with due proportion, also for us. If we suffer with Christ we shall be glorified with Him, and if we die with Christ we shall rise with Him. The mystery of the Resurrection ushers in our Saviour’s glorified life; it is a life of inspiration, power, strength and victory.

Jesus has died on the cross and the soldier has pierced His side with a lance, so that there can be no doubt as to His real death. To forestall any attempt on the part of the disciples to steal the body of Jesus, the tomb is sealed and a guard of soldiers is placed in front of it. These soldiers keep watch in front of the tomb the whole Sabbath and the following night. No disciples have come into sight, all has been quiet and peaceful. But as the morning of the first day of the week begins to dawn, the scene suddenly changes. An earthquake shakes the city, an angel, resplendent with heavenly light, rolls back the stone from the tomb; it is an empty tomb-Jesus is there no longer. The guards are hurled to the ground terror-stricken; as soon as they recover they hasten to the city as fast as they can to bring the news to the authorities at Jerusalem. The report comes to those men like lightning and thunder from a clear sky; consternation written in their faces. There can be no denial of the fact reported by the guards, and so they have recourse to an expedient to extricate themselves from this embarrassing situation and to prevent a popular change of attitude in favour of Jesus. They bribe the guards, charging them to spread the news that whilst they were asleep, the disciples had come and stolen the body. Poor, deluded Pharisees, who childishly think they can stop the triumphant march of the risen Christ by so silly a lie.

Let us now look at the figure of our risen Saviour. He is all light and splendour; He moves about with speed of light, neither walls nor door nor locks can stop Him. The wounds and disfigurement of His body have given way to immortal beauty and vigour; but in His hands and feet and in His sacred side He keeps the marks of the nails and the lance. They will forever be the sparkling gems blazing forth the truth that, as we were saved through the cross, so through the cross we must attain to light and glory.

Jesus who had loved His own who were in the world even unto death, does not forget them in His glory; He hastens to bring to them the joyful news of His Resurrection. Though not mentioned by the sacred writers, it must be taken for granted that Jesus appeared first of all to His holy Mother; we could not imagine anything else. What a meeting this must have been of Mother and Son on that Easter morning. Rejoice, O Mother of Christ, be glad, O Queen of heaven, for thy Son is risen from the dead. As in His mortal life, so in His glory He remains her Son and she His Mother. Then followed the many apparitions of Jesus to His apostles and friends, confirming their faith and speaking to them of the Kingdom of God.

The Resurrection of C hrist and the glorified life following it is Christ’s decisive victory. He had foretold it and referred to it as proof of His divine Sonship and authority, “Destroy this temple and in three days I will raise it up” (John 2, 19) By rising from the dead Christ has proved that He is God, His teaching true, His promises certain of fulfilment. And so His cause shall be victorious in the Church as a whole as well as in the individual soul, though in either case the way to victory leads over Calvary.

Christ’s vict ory is above all victory over sin, and in this victory we must share in this life already, if we wish the glory of the Resurrection to be ours in the life to come. Baptism is the beginning of this victory, “Know you not that all we, who are baptized in Christ Jesus, are baptized into His death? For we are buried together with Him by baptism into death; that as Christ is risen from the dead by the glory of the Father, so we also may walk in newness of life” (Rom. 6, 3–4). In order to guarantee ultimate victory, in spite of possible falls due to human weakness, Christ has left to His Church as His most precious Easter gift the Sacrament of Penance, which He instituted on the evening of Easter Sunday, “Receive the Holy Ghost; whose sins you shall forgive, they are forgiven them, and whose sins you shall retain, they are retained.” (John 20, 23). The ideal of the Christian is the new life in Christ, free from sin. For that reason also holy Mother Church insists upon confession of all mortal sins at least once a year, and upon the reception of Holy Communion during the Easter season; thus the life of grace is restored if it should have been lost, and if it has not been lost it is strengthened and more intimately conformed to the life of Christ through the power of the bread of life. This new life, according to the intensity of its fervour, shows forth even whilst on earth the immortal vigour of Christ’s glorified life. It is a life of spiritual beauty, resplendent with the light of virtue. There is promptness and determination in obeying the call of duty and the inspirations of grace, courage and confidence in the profession of the faith, a holy pride in following Christ our victorious Leader, a joyful readiness to go with Him even unto death. Hardships and privations, fear of men, threats of persecution cannot alter its course. Deep and living faith in the Resurrection is incompatible with timidity and half-heartedness in our allegiance to Christ the King, and will never compromise at the expense of truth and loyalty. “Knowing this that our old man is crucified with Him, that the body of sin may be destroyed, to the end that we may serve sin no longer. . . . . Knowing that Christ rising again from the dead, dieth now no more, death can no more have dominion over Him. . . . So do you also reckon, that you are dead to sin, but alive unto God, in Christ Jesus Our Lord” (Rom. 6, 6–11).

Our blessed Mother requests that we meditate on this mystery. She knows the conditions of the times and the growing danger to souls, the growing intensity of the Christian warfare as we approach the consummation of all things. Therefore, she wants us to be fortified with the invincible spirit of the Resurrection. The mystery of iniquity is at work, it can be overcome only by the mystery of a new, a holy life with Christ, the Victor over sin and death abiding in us and we in Him. In His Resurrection Jesus speaks to us as He spoke to the apostles, “Have confidence, I have overcome the world” (John 16, 33).

THE ASCENSION

As Son of God Jesus possessed the beatific vision from the very first moment His soul was created, and, in consequences the glorified state of the body with heaven as His dwelling place were due to Him. However, the saving mission which He had taken upon Himself called for suffering which was incompatible with the glorified state; so Jesus hid His glory and took the form of a servant, to labour and to suffer until His mission was accomplished. When He arose from the dead He assumed the glorified state of His body, but for our instruction and encouragement He remained on earth for another forty days. When these days had come to an end, He gloriously ascended into heaven.

St. Luke paints a lovely picture of Our Lord on His way to Mount Olivet on Ascension Day. The same road which had taken Him to this place only a few weeks before, there to begin His passion with His bloody agony, now sees Him return to the scene of battle as glorious conqueror. As on that evening so He is now surrounded by His apostles, but their number is swelled by many other friends and followers of Jesus. Jesus gives them His last instructions and answers their questions until they arrive at the place chosen by Him. The great moment of His departure from them has come.He speaks to them His final word of parting; it is the apostolic commission, “All power is given to me in heaven and in earth. Going therefore teach ye all nations; baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost, teaching them to observe all things whatsoever I have commanded you; and behold, I am with you all days, even unto the consummation of the world” (Matt. 28, 19–20). With a last blessing for the ungrateful world for which He had died,with a Father’s blessing for all His faithful friends, with a last loving and grateful look to His holy Mother He begins to raise Himself into space, higher and higher, until a cloud hides Him from the sight of human eyes. And whilst His friends are still looking towards heaven two angels appeared, assuring them that this Jesus, whom they had seen ascending into heaven, would come again such as they had seen Him on this day. With holy joy in their hearts the apostles and friends of Jesus returned to Jerusalem; even though they would miss the presence of their beloved Master, they rejoiced over His glory. Their thoughts henceforth dwelt in heaven; there they found the inspiration to a holy life, strength and consolation and joy in the midst of their labours and even in the tortures of a bloody death. And how often during the course of centuries, especially in periods of persecution and distress, did the followers of Christ look to heaven, there to discover a sign of His coming; but even though He delayed, their faith remained unshaken. Their thoughts were with Him in heaven and the certainty that one day they would share in His triumph and glory, gave them new courage to persevere to the end.

Jesus entered heaven, but not alone. A wonderful scene was enacted when Jesus had vanished from the sight of His friends on earth. Limbo gives up the souls it has held for thousands of years and they join Jesus in His triumphant entry into heaven. At last their prayers and hopes have been fulfilled. When Jesus had died on the cross, His soul descended into Limbo and brought these holy souls the joyous news that soon the days of their waiting would come to an end. Now the great moment has come; they join Jesus in a glorious procession of light and splendour. As they approach the gates of heaven their joyous cries announce the coming of heaven’s King to the blessed spirits of the heavenly Kingdom. “Lift up your gates, O ye princes, and be ye lifted up, O eternal gates, and the King of glory shall enter in.” From within the heavenly gates comes the question, “Who is this King of glory?” And the answer goes thundering back from the multitudes of Limbo, “The Lord, who is strong and mighty, the Lord mighty in battle. Lift up your gates, O ye princes, and be ye lifted up, O eternal gates, and the King of glory shall enter in” (Ps. 23, 7–10). And now the gates of heaven are thrown open, the choirs of angels pay homage to the glorious King, and welcome into heaven their new brethren, the first human souls, to be their companions forever. Mid then Jesus enters the eternal Holy of Holies and takes possession of His royal throne, and of His kingdom there shall be no end.

The Apostle’s Creed describes the heavenly life of Jesus as sitting at the right hand of the Father. This signifies His eternal rest, the absence of warfare and suffering, the possession of undisturbed joy and peace. True, He also remains the Head of His Mystical Body, the Church, and the Church continues to labour and to struggle, to carry on the warfare, for souls to the end, but the malice of men does not reach Jesus any more, enthroned as He is in heavenly glory. Yet Jesus” life in heaven is not only rest. In His farewell address Jesus assured the apostles that in His Father’s house there were many mansions and that He went to prepare a place for them; having done this He would come and take them to Himself, in order that where He was they, too, would be. So Jesus in His glory prepares those mansions, and as His faithful servants arrive in the course of centuries they find their place prepared according to their works. St. Paul reveals another feature of our Saviour’s heavenly life when he tells us that Jesus is always making intercession for us. He remains our Mediator at the throne of His Father, praying as the Head of His Mystical Body, the Church. His Mediator’s work culminates in the Eucharistic Sacrifice. As Priest forever according to the order of Melchisedech, He offers Himself through the instrumentality of human priests as the clean oblation, and feeds the faithful with His own flesh and blood, the bread of life. Remaining in heaven and without detriment to His glorified state He has in a most intimate manner united Himself with all the members of His Mystical Body even whilst on earth, and made true His promise that He would remain with us to the end of the world. In the Blessed Eucharist the heavenly life of Jesus and the earthly life of the faithful meet in the most wonderful manner. We have heaven in our very midst.

Here on eart h, “We have not here a lasting city but we seek one that is to come” (Hebr. 13, 14) ; we are strangers and pilgrims on the way to our eternal home. “Therefore, if you be risen with Christ, seek the things that are above, where Christ is seated at the righthand of God. Mind the things that are above, not the things that are on earth” (Col. 3, 1–2). Heaven is our goal, and if we wish to reach it, we certainly must keep it in mind, never to lose sight of it. Heaven-mindedness is characteristic of the true Christian and lover of Christ. Alas, it has grown cold in many Christian hearts; the thought of heaven hardly ever enters their mind, it does not influence their lives, they show the same love of the world, the same concern about its possessions and pleasures, the same flight from the cross as those that do not know Christ. It is indeed a timely and practical petition that Holy Church puts on our lips on the feast of the Ascension: that with our minds we may always dwell in heaven.

Looking down from those heavenly heights gives us the correct perspective of things of this earth. How small and insignificant they all appear and yet also how great and precious, since it is by them that we merit the everlasting, allexceeding glory of heaven. The thought of heaven makes us fervent, zealous, patient, generous, it detaches us from what may be as dear to us as life itself. St. Ignatius filled with the thought of heaven could say, “How I loathe this earth, when I look up to heaven.” Heaven is worth every sacrifice, and therefore Our Lord exhorts us to lay up for ourselves treasures there, where moth and rust do not consume them and where thieves cannot steal and carry them away. The loss of heaven is the greatest loss, because it is the loss of our soul, the loss of God Himself; therefore no earthly possession or pleasure can make up for it, “For what does it profit a man, jf he gain the whole world, but suffer the loss of his own soul?” (Matt. 16, 26). The thought of heaven inspires a strong and fearless love of the cross, “For that which is at present momentary and light of our tribulation worketh for us above measure exceedingly an eternal weight of glory” (2 Cor. 4, 17). The Christian imbued with the thought of heaven knows no real sadness; he radiates spiritual warmth, heavenly joy, which cannot but influence his fellowmen for the better.

The thought of heaven is a most effective remedy against earthly-mindedness, the strongest bulwark against the materialism of the world, an ever present incentive to a fervent Christian life ; it will, in a very particular manner, lead us to the altar of the Eucharistic Sacrifice and perpetual presence. We shall come, more and more, to love the beauty of His house and the place where His glory dwells. And so through this mystery of the rosary our blessed Mother leads us to her Divine Son, now in the Eucharist and, in due time, in His eternal heavenly glory.

THE DESCENT OF THE HOLY GHOST

Christ’s earthly mission came to an end with His Ascension The Holy Spirit was to bring His work to final completion. For that reason Jesus sent Him to the Church, and to prepare for His coming He commanded the apostles to stay in Jerusalem until they would be endowed with power from on high. So the apostles and friends of Jesus, having seen Him risinginto heaven, returned to Jerusalem and “with one mind continued steadfastly in prayer with the women and Mary, the Mother of Jesus, and with His brethren” (Acts 1, 14).

Pentecost of the Old Testament, the fiftieth day after the Jewish Easter, commemorated the giving of the law on Mount Sinai; Pentecost of the New Testament, the fiftieth day after the Christian Easter, commemorates the establishment of the new Covenant of love. Nine days had elapsed since the Ascension and the day of Pentecost had arrived. The apostle and friends of Jesus were assembled for their customary prayer in the Upper Room, when all of a sudden a violent wind began to blow, arousing the attention of neighbours and passers-by. Within the house, another startling event took place. Tongues of fire appeared and settled on each one present, “And they were all filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak with divers” tongues, according as the Holy Ghost gave them to speak.” Then there rose up to God a mighty prayer of praise and thanks in many languages for all His wondrous deeds. In the crowd that gathered around the house there were Jews, “devout men from every nation under heaven,” who had come to Jerusalem for the celebration of the feast of Pentecost. They were greatly surprised to hear the apostles speak in the languages of their own countries; their amazement grew when they found out that these men were Galileans, whose native tongue was Aramaic. And, “They were all amazed and marvelled saying, “Behold, are not all these that speak Galileans? And how have we heard every man our own language wherein we were born?’” (Acts 2,2–11).

So impressed were the crowds by this miracle that on that very day three thousand persons came to believe in Christ and received baptism. The fact that the apostles praised God in many foreign tongues and that representatives of many nations joined the Church on her first Pentecost marked her as the Church of all races and peoples. From now on the Church will grow and spread; even to the ends of the earth the apostles and their successors will preach the Gospel and be witnesses to Christ their Divine Master.

Wind, though not seen itself, is seen and felt in its effects. It possesses tremendous power, it can sweep before it all obstacles, clear the atmosphere of poisonous germs. So the unseen power of the Holy Spirit overthrows the strongholds of ancient and modern paganism and clears the atmosphere of the poisonous germs of godless philosophies. Having thus prepared the ground the Holy Spirit begins the positive work of enlightening the minds of men with His truth and warming their hearts with His love. This, His work is symbolized by the tongues of fire. The Holy Spirit is the Spirit of Truth. To the hell-inspired philosophies of the present day, to the insincerity and pride of dictators and tyrants He opposes the truth of man’s nothingness and God’s sovereign majesty. God is the creator and man the creature, God is infinitely perfect and man is limited in every way; man comes and goes and his work falls into dust, but the word of God remains forever. As Our Lord said, the Holy Spirit convinces the world of sin and justice and judgement.

But the Holy Spirit is also the Spirit of love, and love must accompany truth, if the world is to be gained for Christ. Without love selfishness reigns supreme. This explains why mutual distrust divides individuals and nations, why hatred has reached a degree of intensity and a depth of degradation and savagery that only Satan can have inspired. Satan hates God and whatever is loved by God, and if he cannot destroy, he will at least cause as much suffering and harm as possible. The love of the Holy Spirit unites. The love of God has made men His children, members of the same family. “Our Father, Who art in heaven,” is the prayer taught us by our Divine Saviour. Where the love of the Holy Spirit has been poured into the hearts of men, there they are drawn into the living and loving union with Jesus as the members of His Mystical Body, there they are one with Him as the branches are one with the vine. One body, one spirit, one bread, one hope for all. It is the love of the Holy Spirit that has called into existence the wonderful works of charity that are the glory of the Catholic Church.

In doing this work the Holy Spirit employs the Church as His organ. Though adapting herself to the conditions of the times and the character of the peoples to whom she ministers, the means employed by the Church throughout the centuries are essentially the same as those used by her on the first Pentecost. She gains her converts by preaching, not in the words of human wisdom but in the power of the Spirit, not by deception or violence but by the persuasion of truth and love, symbolized by the tongues of fire. But realizing her dependence upon the Holy Spirit, Holy Church unceasingly prays, “Send forth, O Lord, Thy Spirit, and they shall be created, and Thou shalt renew the face of the earth.”

In the work of spreading the faith, Mary the Mother of Jesus and the Spouse of the Holy Spirit, holds a most distinguished place. The Holy Spirit overshadowed her with His power at Nazareth to make her the Mother of Jesus, and through her to give the world its Saviour. She is to accomplish her mission not by the labours of the apostolic ministry but by her intercession and example. She is the suppliant omnipotence, strong and mighty as an army in battle array. Holy Church says of her that she has brought joy to the whole world, and that through her all heresies have been overcome. She implores for the preachers of the word of God a more profound understanding of what they preach as well as the method of presentation that convinces and gains the good will of men. Through her Immaculate Heart flow the streams of love that issue from the depths of the Godhead into the souls of men so that, detached from the fleeting things of the earth, they may fix their hearts upon the things of heaven. This precisely is the need of our time, when millions of men, overwhelmed by the flood of secularism have lost all appreciation of spiritual values, think of nothing, strive for nothing but the good things of this world. Great, therefore, must be the desire of our heavenly Mother that men would turn to the Holy Spirit, accept His truth, be inflamed with His love and become her loving children.

We, too, have received the power from on high to be witnesses unto Christ, though not under the visible symbol of fiery tongues. The Sacrament of Confirmation, in particular, is the Sacrament through which the faithful receive the fullness of the Holy Spirit’s grace for confessing and spreading the faith. Not all the faithful are called to preach the word of God officially, but all can and must do it through words that enlighten and deeds that arouse love. The holy lives of the faithful are tongues of fire demonstrating the power of love and truth. A halfhearted practice of religion, a life infected with the spirit of the world will impede the renewal of the world in Christ.

This Pentecostal mystery then calls for more truth and love in our lives, more interest in the cause of Christ and the Church, more courage and unshakable confidence in the power of the Holy Spirit. Our Lady of Fatima expects this of us. Though she was not sent to preach like the apostles, we cannot imagine that in dealings with her fellowmen she spoke of anything or did anything that did not have for its ultimate object to bring others to a knowledge of her Divine Son and to the ways of salvation opened in the Church. We must heed her requests, follow her example, if the world is not to perish but to be saved, if the Kingdom of Christ is to replace the kingdom of Satan. Do we realize our responsibility and use the opportunities at our disposal for bringing about such happy results?

THE ASSUMPTION

The last information the sacred writers give us regarding our blessed Mother is that she was united with the apostles and friends of Jesus, in prayer preparing for the coming of the Holy Spirit. After this no more mention is made of her. Whether Mary, after the Ascension, stayed in Jerusalem or left it, whether she died soon or lived for many more years we do not know. One thing only is certain and that is that the rest of her life was devoted to prayer and to work in the interests of her Divine Son. We may also assume that, though she was fully resigned to the Will of God as to the duration of her earthly life, she longed for death. If St. Paul could say that he desired to be dissolved and to be with Christ because of His ardent love of the Master, how much more Mary, who loved her Divine Son with an immeasurably greater love. Desire consumed her strength. As Jesus had died in atonement for the sins of the world, so Mary, wishing in all things to be like Jesus, also desired to die and to offer her life as a holocaust of love for the same purpose. At last the day arrived when Jesus came to take His Mother home, “Arise, make haste, My love, My dove, My beautiful one and come. . . . Come, thou shalt be crowned” (Canticle 2, 10; 4–8).

It has been the faith of the Church from the beginning that the body of the Mother of God was soon after death again united with the soul and taken up into heaven. In memory of this event the Assumption was celebrated probably as early as the Fifth Century, and on November 1, 1950, was solemnly proclaimed an article of faith. The Assumption is in complete harmony with the place Mary holds in the economy of salvation. She has been conceived without sin, was never touched by concupiscence, never entertained an inordinate thought or desire, the eternal Word of God has taken His flesh and blood from her, and for nine months she was a living tabernacle of the Most High; our Christian feeling shrinks from the very thought that her body should have become a prey to corruption. It is also a fact that never were any relics of our Blessed Mother’s body exposed for veneration, as is the case with relics of other saints. The Assumption of Mary is a confirmation of our faith in the resurrection and glorification of bodies, a new link between us and heaven, a new bond of love and hope that unites us, her children in this valley of tears, to her who is our Mother, our sweetness, our life, and our hope.

The body plays an important part in working out our salvation. No good work can be performed, not even a thought can be in our minds without some co-operation of bodily organs. It is the body that tires under the strain of prayer and work, feels the hardships and privations of the Christian warfare, is mortified by works of penance. The body, too, therefore must have a share in the reward enjoyed by the soul from the moment it enters heaven. Our Lord tells us, “The hour is coming in which all, who are in the tombs, shall hear the Voice of the Son of God. And they who have done good shall come forth unto resurrection of life; but they who have done evil, unto resurrection of judgement” (John 5, 28–29). And St. Paul assures us, “Behold I tell you a mystery. . . . . . for the trumpet shall sound and the dead shall rise again incorruptive, and we shall be changed. For this corruptible must put on incorruption, and this mortal body must put on immortality. But this mortal hath put on immortality, then shall come to pass the word that is written, “Death is swallowed up in victory. O death, where is thy victory, O death, where is thy sting” (1 Cor. 15, 51- 55). The thought of the resurrection and glorification of bodies inspired the martyrs in their tortures and death; it is a source of strength in temptation, of consolation in tribulations. We shall rise with a body immortal, spiritual, resplendent, with glory, under the complete control of the spirit. Indeed, this body of ours, though falling into dust, is not destined for the corruption of the grave forever, but through death and corruption it will pass to immortal and glorious life.

The mystery sheds wonderful light on the place the body should hold in the Christian life. The Christian, looking forward to this glorious transfiguration of his body, will zealously guard it as the temple of God’s glory; he will not abuse it, degrade it, desecrate it by sin. Even now the body is a temple of the Holy Spirit, and it is because of this Holy Spirit dwelling in Him that God will raise it up on the last day. Since the body with its natural inclinations can become a great hindrance and danger to salvation, the Christian will mortify it; he will not pamper it, but rather make it an instrument for his own sanctification and merit. The daily labours and hardships imposed upon us by our vocational duties mortify the body, the patient endurance of the manifold sufferings sent by God subject it to the rule of the Spirit, and works of penance, demanded by the Church or freely chosen, will further curb the rebellion of the flesh. Thus the body more and more becomes a willing instrument of the spirit in the service of God, and to the same extent merits its own glorification. The saints did not spare the body; their works of penance may at times make us shudder, but they knew what they were doing. They agreed with St. Paul and acted in the spirit of his words, “I reckon that the sufferings of the present time are not worth to be compared with the glory to come that will be revealed in us” (Rom. 8, 18).

Such a view of the body will mightily contribute to make the Christian life more spiritual, more supernatural, abounding in zeal and merit, in patience, joy, and peace in the Holy Spirit. And would such a condition among the faithful not have a beneficial influence upon their fellowmen? Would it not be a joy for our heavenly Mother? Indeed, we have good reason to rejoice and to give thanks for the light and inspiration offered us in this mystery, “Let us rejoice in the Lord and celebrate a festive day in honour of the Blessed Mother of God, over whose Assumption the angels rejoice and praise the son of God, her Son.”

CROWNED AS HEAVEN’S QUEEN

There is nothing in tradition or legend to give us definite information about this mystery, yet the rosary is recited throughout the world and approved by Holy Church. This fact alone is sufficient proof for the substantial truth of the contents of this mystery. The dignity of Mary, as the Mother of God and our Saviour, and the all-surpassing holiness of her life, give her incomparable pre-eminence in majesty and glory over all the angels and saints. It is altogether in harmony with our holy faith to suppose that her entrance into heaven should have been the cause of a special joy and should have been celebrated according to our human way of putting it, by a festive ceremony at which she was crowned as Queen of Heaven. Let us picture this feast to ourselves; the invocations of Mary as Queen, in the Litany of the Blessed Virgin, give us so to say, the numbers of the festive programme. The feast, however, is timeless and will continue until all the children of Mary have been gathered around their heavenly Mother and Queen.

The good angels never sinned but remained loyal to God when Lucifer rose in rebellion. Though not their Saviour, Jesus is nevertheless also their Mediator in virtue of His soul, by which He stands between God and all created spiritual natures. Mary is the Mother of their Mediator. Like the angels she was never stained by sin, her will never troubled by any stirring of concupiscence. Her mind is more penetrating than that of the Cherubim, her heart burns with warmer love than the Seraphim ; she rules over vaster domains than the angelic Thrones; the grandeur of the mystery, which God wrought in her makes the Powers thrill with wonder, the Archangels standing before the throne of God now also stand before her throne, as she has taken her place next to her Divine Son; the Angels humbly admit that all their services to men are outdone immeasurably by the share the Blessed Mother had in the work of redemption. And so all the angels bow before her and offer her the diadem of the Queen of angels.

Those holy men, that lived at the dawn of human history and are mentioned among the ancestors of Christ, saw the Saviour of the world from afar as they hoped and longed and prayed for His coming. Mary has given Him birth and calls Him her Son. And the patriarchs greet her as their greatest daughter and Queen.

These seers of old saw and foretold the mysteries of man’s redemption. Their prophecies found their fulfilment through Mary. As the splendour of the noonday sun outshines the early dawn, so the dazzling splendour of the Virgin Mother of the Saviour shines above the twilight of the prophet’s visions and humbly do the prophets pay homage to Mary as their Queen.

They were the chosen companions of Jesus; they remained loyal to their Master and were entrusted by Him with the continuation of His mission. The sound of their voices went out into the world. Mary was the Mother of Him whose Gospel they preached. She crushed the head of the serpent and through her prayers and merits the Kingdom of Christ has been extended, fortified, and protected more effectively than by all the apostles and their successors in the apostolic ministry. So the apostles approach and present her with the crown and sceptre of the apostolic college.

That which makes the martyr is not the mere fact that he died for Christ, but that he loves Christ unto the shedding of his blood. There are also martyrs of charity, and their martyrdom may be more excellent as it lasts longer and calls for greater endurance. Hidden labours and sufferings of the soul may consume life’s energy like a holocaust. Mary did not die a bloody death, but she endured sorrows of the soul greater than all the tortures endured by the martyrs of blood. Holy Church endeavours to give us some idea of the greatness of her sorrow, when she stood beneath the cross of her dying Son, by applying to her the words of the prophet, “O all you that pass by the way, attend and see if there be any sorrow like to my sorrow. . . . . . To what shall I compare thee? or to what shall I liken thee, O daughter of Jerusalem; To what shall I equal thee, that I may comfort thee, O virgin daughter of Sion. For as the sea is thy sorrow” (Lam. 1. 12. 2. 13). And all the holy martyrs resplendent with the fiery red of charity or the bloody red of martyrdom wave their palms in exultation, acclaiming Mary as their Queen.

These saints have faithfully followed in the footsteps of Jesus, some in lowliness and hidden from the world, others as the teachers, leaders, the firebrands of their generation. But there is hardly one among them that did not pay the tribute of human weakness in regrettable faults and failings; what distinguished them and made them saints was their determined, persistent, and successful effort in striving after perfection. According to their character and the conditions of the times in which they were living, they excelled in the one or the other virtue. Mary alone was without fault or failing, excelling not only in one or the other virtue, but possessing all in the highest degree, since she was always full of grace. All the holy confessors are filled with delight to behold in Mary the ideal of the virtue, after which they have striven; there is among them all not one equal to her; she is their Queen.

The very designation of the Mother of God as the Blessed Virgin, the Virgin Mother, points to her towering position among all the virgins of the Church. She is the blessed one among them, as she is the blessed among all women. Not simply the fact of her virginity gives her this pre-eminence but the intensity of the love with which she consecrated herself to God. Mary’s love and devotion to God cannot be measured by human standards. She is the Spouse of the Holy Spirit, all spiritual, all holy in body and in soul, and so the choirs of holy virgins lift up their lilies in rapturous acclaim to greet and honour their Virgin Queen.

Not only the angels and all those saints that distinguished themselves by their heroic virtue and are venerated by the Church as saints, glory in having the Blessed Virgin as their Queen, but likewise all the other blessed inhabitants of heaven. They are lesser stars, humble, little souls, who though not achieving heroic sanctity, served God with an upright and loving heart; among them are also the penitent sinners, eternally grateful for having been saved from eternal ruin. Whatever their condition may be, there is not one among them that does not owe a debt of gratitude for his salvation to Mary, the Mother of the Saviour, Mediatrix of all Graces, Mother of Mercy, Refuge of Sinners, our life, our sweetness, and our hope. And if they form if we may say so, the outer fringe of the heavenly Kingdom, they raise their voices the more humbly and gratefully from their distant places to greet her as their loving and merciful Queen.

Mary is Queen not only of the saints in heaven, but also of all the children of God on earth. By giving her the love and loyalty of our hearts and following her leadership we, too, shall reach our heavenly goal. The foregoing considerations point out the way, in which this can be done.

Sinlessness is the first and foremost requisite for the subjects of our heavenly Queen. Ours is not angelic purity, but it can be baptismal innocence, and if that has been lost, it still can be the purity of penitents.

Like the patriarchs and prophets of old we can pray and long for the coming of the kingdom of God. “Thy King- dom come,” we were taught to pray by our blessed Saviour. Let us pray for the coming of God’s Kingdom into the hearts of men through grace, for the spread of the Church, the kingdom of Christ throughout the world, for the second coming of our Saviour with power and majesty so “That transgression may be finished and sin may have an end and iniquity may be abolished and everlasting justice may be brought and vision and prophecy may be fulfilled” (Daniel 9, 24). This is the grand object for which our heavenly Queen prayed, worked and suffered, for which she now intercedes and for which she desires our co-operation.

The apostles, and in them also their successors, were chosen by Jesus to carry the message of the Gospel to the nations. The harvest is great and many labourers are needed; therefore, we are to pray to the Lord of the harvest that He may send labourers into His vineyard. Loyal to the Queen of the apostles we shall endeavour to foster missionary vocations and to support the education and the work of missionaries.

Even should we not become martyrs of blood, the spirit of martyrs can be ours. If we cannot lay down our lives in one great act of martyrdom, let it be done through the many acts of devotion, love, and self-denial that make up the fervent Christian life. Then, as St. Chrysostom says, God will accept the good will and grant also to such as actually do not become martyrs the reward of martyrs.

Whatever may be the state of our lives we can and must be confessors of the faith by its faithful practice. But our ambition should aim high; continuous progress in virtue and Christian perfection must be our goal, as it was the goal of the confessors.

Not all are called to a life of virginity, but the spirit of virginity can be ours, and that is the spirit of loving and undivided consecration to God and generosity in giving all that God expects of us. God is not satisfied with a divided heart.

If we feel that we are still far from the holiness of the saints this should not be reason for discouragement. The saints did not become saints overnight, but by dint of much prayer, work and self-denial, rising again and again from their falls through humble repentance. All this we also can do, no matter what may have been the sins of the past. The mercy of Jesus is infinite, and Mary is the refuge of sinners and our most merciful Queen.

So we look up to our Queen and resolve to listen to the daily message of the rosary. In the Epistle for the feast of the Most Holy Rosary she pleads with motherly solicitude “Now, therefore, ye children, hear me; blessed are they that keep my ways. Hear instruction, and be wise, and refuse it not. Blessed is the man that heareth me, and that watcheth daily at my gates; and waiteth at the posts of my doors. He that shall find me, shall find life, and shall have salvation from the Lord.” With filial, trustful love we dedicate ourselves to her in a final act of consecration, “O my Queen, O my Mother, I give myself entirely to thee, keep me, guard me as thy property and possession.”

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The Message of The Rosary II

BY REV. A. BISKUPEK, S.V.D

INDEX

THE REASON WHY

Many Catholics, especially intelligent and well-meaning friends of the liturgical revival, seem puzzled by the fact that in the apparitions of Our Lady of Fatima the rosary played such a prominent part. Is not the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass more important? Holy Mass is the unbloody re-enactment of the Sacrifice of our salvation, the centre of divine worship, the source of grace from which we hope for a renewal of the world in Christ. Why was not more frequent attendance at Holy Mass urged by our blessed Mother? Yet, it is certain that any request or recommendation coming from our blessed Mother cannot but be the best. Mary, as the Spouse of the Holy Spirit, the Mother of the Saviour and the Mediatrix of all Graces, has no more ardent desire than to lead us to a fuller appreciation of the mysteries of our redemption, to a more abundant participation in their life-giving grace. If she attaches so much importance to the rosary, the reason can only be that the rosary is the most practical means to bring about these happy results. The rosary will lead us to the altar of sacrifice, to Holy Mass and Holy Communion, to a more intimate union with Jesus and a profounder grasp of the spirit of the Church.

Asking for the recitation of the rosary, Our Lady of Fatima asks for an intelligent, understanding recitation, and that calls for reflection on the prayers that compose it, the Sign of the Cross, the Creed, the Our Father and Hail Mary, the Glory be, prayers which are, so to say, a compendium of the doctrines of our holy Faith. Their frequent, thoughtful repetition cannot but fix them more deeply in our minds and help applying them to our lives. To these prayers are added the mysteries which recall the principal events in the life of Jesus and Mary; they are so to say beautiful lamps, white and crimson and gold, illuminating our road to heaven. Meditation on these mysteries is necessary for the proper recitation of the rosary. Our Lady of Fatima requests it particularly for the observance of the five first Saturdays. It is evidently her wish that we become familiar with the contents of these mysteries; learn their beautiful lesson for our own lives and their practical significance for the world at large.

To secure a speedier and more general fulfilment of this wish of our blessed Mother the following reflections have been written. They may be used as instructions or readings, especially on the occasion of the five first Saturday.

In our days, when an appalling ignorance of religion is widespread even among Catholics, when the spirit of the world surges up and down all the avenues of life, when there is so little understanding of the interior life, such general flight from the cross, such tragic forgetfulness of spiritual ideals and values, the rosary, with its mysteries, acts as an ever-present teacher of religion, as an inspiration and driving power for a life of living faith.

The rosary, far from interfering with the liturgical worship of the Church becomes its best support, inasmuch as it makes us lovers of Christ, and lovers of Christ will be drawn to the altar of His Eucharistic presence, sacrifice and Communion. As always, so it is true in this case: Through Mary to Jesus.

THE JOYFUL MYSTERIES

These mysteries introduce us into the wise and loving designs of God, according to which the Saviour of men was to enter this world and to be prepared for His tremendous sacrifice of our salvation during the years of His infancy and hidden life. They hold up before us the ideal of the interior life, the life of prayer and holy desire, of intimate communication with God in our hearts and with Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament, of complete surrender to the dispensations of Divine Providence, of loving faithfulness in humble and lowly duties, of silent endurance in the many unseen trials of the soul that strives after perfection. Whatever may be the external circumstances of a man’s life, even though it may be most active, a life of leadership and grand achievement, the spirit of the joyful mysteries is indispensable for it, if it is to be a holy life leading to God, our last end. Intimate contact with God is the hidden power plant that makes external activity fruitful for eternity.

THE ANNUNCIATION

A lovely scene opens the earthly history of the Godman. The grandest manifestation of God’s power is about to take place and Gabriel, the Power of God, is its herald. The Archangel Gabriel is sent to a virgin in the little town of Nazareth; her name is Mary and she is espoused to a man by the name of Joseph.

THE MESSAGE

The prince of heaven bows in reverence before the humble maiden as he greets her, “Hail, full of grace, the Lord is with thee. Blessed art thou among women.” To be blessed among women meant but one thing for a Jewish maiden, and that was to be the mother of the Messias. Precisely this is the burden of the Angel’s message: Mary is the chosen one among all women to give to the world the promised Saviour. The very thought of it grips her with holy fear. But where God calls, there is nothing to fear. Gabriel assures Mary, “Do not be afraid, Mary, for thou hast found grace with God. And behold, thou shalt conceive in thy womb and shalt bring forth a Son, and thou shalt call His name Jesus.” Yet Mary had taken the vow of virginity; how then shall this be done if God was pleased with her vow? Nothing is impossible with the Almighty God. He who created the first man without the help of father and mother, surely will know how to give the Saviour of the world a human nature without the co-operation of a human father. The Archangel continues, “The Holy Spirit shall come upon thee and the power of the Most High shall overshadow thee. And therefore the Holy One to be born shall be called the Son of God,”

THE ANSWER

All is now clear to this blessed Virgin and her answer is a full and absolute surrender to the will of God, “Behold the handmaid of the Lord; be it done to me according to Thy word.” In that very moment there was wrought in Mary the tremendous miracle of the Incarnation. The Word was made flesh and dwelt among us (Luke 1, 26–38). In this mystery of the Incarnation and the consequent divine motherhood of the Blessed Virgin lies the source of Mary’s all- surpassing greatness. Whatever grace had been bestowed upon her before was to prepare her for it, and whatever grace and gift was added in succeeding years is the effect and fruit of what was begun at the Annunciation.

SPIRITUAL VESSEL

Mary is now a spiritual vessel, a vessel of the Holy Spirit, fashioned by Him, the Finger of God, with the skill of the Divine Artist and endowed by Him with all the jewellery of heaven. The Holy Spirit has deposited in her the treasure of the Most Blessed Trinity. He has overshadowed her and beneath His shadow the Son of the Eternal Father has taken up His abode within her. And so the Holy Spirit continues to overshadow her with His divine power and love, to protect and to guide her to ever greater heights of spirituality and holiness. According to St. Paul vessels are made by the potter for honourable and for common uses. The Immaculate Spouse of the Holy Spirit is the vessel made for the most exalted and glorious use that could be assigned to a human being. She is a vessel more precious than the chalice used at Holy Mass, although it is the same precious blood and body that rests in both; the chalice is made of lifeless material and contributes nothing to the substance of the blood of Christ which it contains, whereas Mary has given of her own substance to the substance of the body and blood of the Saviour. He is bone of her bone, flesh of her flesh, blood of her blood. She is a living chalice consecrated by the Holy Spirit Himself.

GROWING IN HOLINESS

Conscious of the great things which God has wrought in her, Mary cannot but be absorbed in never-ceasing, loving reflection on the love of God. Her thoughts and desires rise to the Father in heaven Who has granted her the privilege of calling Him Son, whom the Father has begotten from all eternity; all her love is given to the Eternal Son Who deigned to become her Child, and spiritual canticles well up in her heart to sing out her gratitude to the Holy Spirit who wrought these wonderful things in her. She is the singular vessel of devotion, the like of which is found neither in heaven nor on earth. In the shrine of her virginal womb the Eternal Son made the first act of His complete surrender to the will of the Father, that made Him obedient unto death and led Him to die on the cross as the victim of sin. Mary adds her surrender to that of her Divine Son, ever repeating through the attitude of her will the words she had spoken on the day of the Annunciation, “Behold the handmaid of the Lord; be it done to me according to Thy word.” And so there rises to the throne of God from theliving sanctuary of Mary’s heart the incense of prayer and holy desires, undisturbed by the external conditions of her life.

GOD DWELLING IN US

In a true though limited sense we share in the greatness of our heavenly Mother. The same Holy Spirit that overshadowed her came down upon us in baptism and wrought wonderful things in our souls. With the Holy Spirit came the Father and the Son and took up their abode in us, and we were made spiritual vessels. The same Word of God that was made flesh in her is received by us in Holy Communion in the identical human nature which He received from His Virgin Mother. And when His sacramental presence ceases, He still remains in us through a wonderful communication of life and grace. We are Christ-bearers, temples ofGod. In this blessed fact lies the Christian’s honour, the ever-present inspiration for a life of prayer and recollection.

HOLY LIFE

God has given Himself to us. After the example of Mary the full and unconditional surrender of ourselves to God must be the answer. Is it not natural that we should be ever mindful of that most precious possession of ours, the greatest distinction which has come to us, namely, that we possess and carry within ourselves the God in whose vision the angels and saints delight? Is it not reasonable that the same God should occupy all our attention? And where mind and will are absorbed in God, there our desire shall be that God’s Will be done in us and through us. By doing the will of God we advance in God’s love, and that is holiness. The will of God is our exaltation, our strength, consolation, and peace.

The example of our blessed Mother in this mystery leads us to the practice of the interior life. The habitual concentration of our thoughts on God and the wonderful things He has wrought in us will not unfit us for active work, but rather assist us to do it more perfectly because of the ever-present God. The practice of the interior life will make Christians different from men of the world with their thoughts and desires all centred on earthly things; the interior life gives constant evidence of faith in an unseen world, in spiritual ideals. Who will deny that this type of example is a crying need to counteract the materialism of our times? Our Lady of Fatima wishes to make us lovers of the interior life through the rosary.

THE VISITATION

Since the day of the Annunciation Mary was a living tabernacle. The Saviour of the world surveyed His work from the hiddenness of His abode. Even now He longed to be active, to save and sanctify souls, but for the present He could do it only through the cooperation of His holy Mother. But His love also burns in Mary’s heart and soon it sends forth its first rays into the world. The Archangel had mentioned to Mary the condition of her kinswoman, Elizabeth; this now furnishes the occasion.

VISITING ELIZABETH

For the first time in the history of the chosen people the true Ark of the Covenant, harbouring within her bosom David’s greatest Son and promised Messias, moves on the highways of Palestine from Nazareth to the hill country of Juda on her way to Elizabeth. She enters the house with a greeting of peace; what else could it be, since she bore within herself the Prince of peace. He had come to give peace to all men of good will. Such a greeting on the lips of Mary is a prayer and Mary’s prayers are always heard. Elizabeth in consequence is filled with the Holy Spirit and in His light recognizes the dignity of the Mother of God, feels the sanctifying power of Mary’s yet unborn Child as her own offspring leaps with joy in her womb at the sound of Mary’s voice. Filled with holy joy she exclaims, “Blessed art thou among women and blessed is the fruit of thy womb. And whence is this to me that the Mother of my Lord should come to me? For, behold, as soon as the voice of thy salutation sounded in my ears, the Infant in my womb leaped with joy. And blessed art thou that hast believed, because those things shall be accomplished that were spoken to thee by the Lord.” Mary, blessed among all women, cannot but agree. Her heart is overflowing with grateful joy as she breaks forth into her Magnificat of praise and thanksgiving. Her soul must praise the Lord, her mind rejoice in her Saviour. God has chosen her, the humble maid of Nazareth, and done great things to her, so that all generations shall call her blessed. He has put down the mighty from their thrones and exalted the lowly, has filled the hungry with good things and the rich He has sent away empty. He has fulfilled the promises made to the fathers and sent the longexpected Messias. And Mary remained with Elizabeth about three months (Luke 1, 39–56).

IN THE HOUSE OF ELIZABETH

For three months the house of Elizabeth presents us with in example of the most appealing charity on the part of Mary. Charity acts through the corporal and spiritual works of mercy; both were practised by the blessed Mother of God, but especially the latter. Notwithstanding the great hardships which a journey in those days meant, Mary resolutely set out on her way and then gave her kinswoman all the assistance she needed during the remaining weeks of her expectancy. Greater yet was the spiritual assistance Mary rendered Elizabeth. She knew herself to be the Mother of Christ and through her Divine Son wished to contribute to the sanctification of the world, first of all, to that of the holy precursor of Jesus. She wished to have others to share in her happiness and with her praise and give thanks to God for the great mystery He had wrought in her. In her humility, however, she could not bring herself to speak about it; in fact, she had not mentioned it in the beginning even to St. Joseph. But here with Elizabeth she was in the presence of a chosen soul, illumined by the Holy Spirit Himself as to what had happened, and so she could speak freely. Through the words of Elizabeth she had learned of the effect of her visit on the latter’s child. If such was the effect of her first meeting with Elizabeth, the spiritual favours bestowed upon the latter and her child must have increased immeasurably during the three months of her sojourn. Intense gratitude filled the hearts of these two women, and Mary spoke also the mind of Elizabeth when in the Magnificat she poured out the sentiments of her grateful love. May we not suppose that it was the daily prayer of Mary and Elizabeth, and that it made the latter’s home a sanctuary of piety, of peace, and holy joy? In such an atmosphere the members of the household could not but daily grow in virtue and holiness.

GIVING CHRIST TO THE POOR

We, too, bear God within us and it is through our cooperation that Jesus desires to save and sanctify souls. The manner of doing it, suggested by the mystery of the Visitation, is that of humble and loving service rendered to our fellow-men, for the sake of Christ. All around us are the poor, the distressed, the sick, the ignorant, the wayward, and forsaken; there is an immense field for the practice of the corporal as well as the spiritual works of mercy. But there is only one that can really and truly alleviate the sorrows of the heart and heal the wounds of the soul, and that is Jesus, the Saviour of the world. Christian charity must have for its ultimate end to bring Christ into the lives of our fellowmen, relatives, acquaintances, friends, and companions. Have we seriously tried to do this? Do we speak of Him to those in sorrow? Do we invite them, take them with us to Jesus in the Blessed Eucharist? Could we not by word and example encourage more frequent attendance at the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass and reception of Holy Communion? In the Blessed Eucharist, Jesus Himself will act as the good Samaritan; He will grant forgiveness of sin, strength and patience, peace, such as the world cannot give. Are we willing to take upon ourselves hardships in the practice of charity as Mary did in the mystery of the Visitation? Loving with the love of Christ and for the sake of Christ makes us generous.

The mystery also contains a very practical lesson for expectant mothers. The greatest act of charity they can do to their as yet unborn child is to take it into the presence of Jesus in the Blessed Eucharist, especially through the reception of Holy Communion.

CHARITY UNLIMITED

Indeed every act by which we prevent sin in our fellow-men, bring him closer to God and inspire him with a greater love of virtue, is an act of charity. St. Paul calls our attention to the well-nigh innumerable ways and manners in which such charity can be practised, and often with so much more effectiveness the less the act is recognized as such, and the more humble and inconspicuous it is. It is a wide field for the practice of charity to which the Apostle calls our attention when he writes, “Charity is patient, is kind; charity does not envy, is not pretentious, is not puffed up, is not ambitious, is not self-seeking, is not provoked; thinks no evil, does not rejoice over wickedness, but rejoices with the truth; bears with all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things” (1 Cor. 13, 4–7).

We were redeemed because God loved us, and it is our greatest privilege, through the practice of charity, to cooperate in the salvation and sanctification of souls. Our Blessed Mother gives the example. The rosary leads to the practice of charity and through charity to Jesus, in Whom alone there is salvation.

THE NATIVITY

The census to be taken up in Palestine, the consequent journey of Mary and Joseph to Bethlehem, the great crowds that occupied all available space in the town were the circumstances foreseen and ordained by Divine Providence to bring the Blessed Mother and St. Joseph to the stable in which, “While all things were in quiet silence and the night was in the midst of her course, Thy Almighty Word, O Lord, came from heaven, from Thy royal throne” (Introit of Sunday within Octave of Christmas).

THE HOLY NIGHT

“And Mary brought forth her firstborn Son and wrapped Him up in swaddling clothes and laid Him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn.” All is silent around the stable; Mary and Joseph are the only representatives of mankind to pay homage to God made man by their faith and loving acceptance of the hardships and privations of poverty, freely chosen by the Lord of heaven and earth for Himself. Out on the plains shepherds are watching their flocks. “And behold, an angel of the Lord stood by them, and the glory of God shone round about them, and they feared exceedingly.” The shepherds need not fear; the meaning of the wonderful things they behold is heavenly joy and peace to be offered to the world, for “Behold, I bring you good news of great joy, which shall be to all the people; for there has been born to you today in the town of David a Saviour, who is Christ the Lord.” A sign is given themby which they will recognize this newborn Saviour. “You will find an Infant wrapped in swaddling clothes and lying in a manger.” A multitude of heavenly spirits now appears above them high up in the air, singing words and melodies such as the world had never heard before, “Glory to God in the highest, and peace on earth among men of good will.” Having delivered their message the angels return to heaven and the shepherds are again alone in the fields. But their mind is made up at once, “Let us go over to Bethlehem and see this thing that has come to pass, which the Lord has made known to us. So they went with haste, and they found Mary and Joseph and the Babe lying in a manger. And when they had seen, they understood what had been told them concerning this child. .

“And they returned glorifying and praising God for all that they had heard and seen.” All people that heard the story marvelled, and “Mary kept in mind all these words, pondering them in her heart” (Luke 2, 1–20).

THE MOTHER OF GOD

Mary now beholds for the first time Him, whom she had conceived of the Holy Spirit; even His Infant features radiate the brightness of Eternal Light and the image of the Father’s substance. Like a ray of light He has entered this world without injury to His blessed Mother’s virginity. He, the mighty God, who has given to nature its laws, can also suspend them. Mary is now truly the Mother of God, the Virgin Mother of Christ. Holy Church has at all times believed this truth and vigorously asserted it against those who would deny it. Thus she speaks at the Council of Ephesus in the year 431: “If any one deny that the holy Virgin is the Mother of God, let him be anathema.” And the Second Council of Nice in 787 repeats, “We believe that Mary is really and truly the Mother of God, because she bore one of the persons of the Most Blessed Trinity, Jesus Christ, Our Lord, according to the flesh.” Let us rejoice and give thanks, for Mary the Mother of God is also our Mother.

THE MYSTERY PERPETUATED

The events of that holy night have passed into history; yet they live on, not only in commemoration, but in sacramental reality. The stable of Bethlehem in that silent holy night became the first Catholic church, harbouring the real presence of the God-Man; since then other Bethlehems have arisen, other mangers have been prepared, and the same Almighty Word of God, the first-born Son of the Virgin Mary, hidden beneath the species of bread and wine, comes down from heaven, from His royal throne. The mystery of this holy night has a still greater significance for us. Bethlehem means “house of bread,” and in the truest sense of the word a Catholic church is a Bethlehem, a house of bread, in which He who is the true bread of life gives Himself to the faithful in Holy Communion. If prayerful reflection upon this mystery should arouse in us the desire to have been present at Bethlehem with Mary and Joseph and the shepherds to adore the Infant in the manger, this desire, enlightened by faith, will take us to the altar; here we have the stable and the manger, here the permanent holy night. The flickering light of the sanctuary lamp takes the place of the stars that twinkled their delight on the shepherds and the stable, the splendour of the liturgy at the solemn celebration of the sacred mysteries may well remind us of the brightness of God, that shone round about the shepherds, and those jubilant melodies sung by the angels.

RECEPTION GIVEN TO JESUS

The story of the birth of our Blessed Saviour illustrates the truth of St. John’s statement that Jesus came into His own and His own did not receive Him. The rest of the life of Jesus and the history of the Church down to our day furnishes further evidence of this truth. The vast majority of those whom He came to save do not know Him; His teaching is not accepted, His Eucharistic presence not known or ignored. How much coldness and indifference is not shown to this mystery even by many of the members of the Church. Should we not endeavour to make up for this lack of faith and love by an ardent devotion to the Blessed Eucharist? How much more reason than the psalmist do we have to say with him, “I will compass Thine altar, O Lord, that I may hear the voice of praise and tell of all Thy wondrous works. I have loved the beauty of Thy house, O Lord, and the place where Thy glory dwelleth” (Ps. 25, 6–8). And when we leave the Eucharistic presence let us take with us the remembrance of our Emmanuel and like the shepherds praise and glorify God, giving testimony to the world around us of the peace and happiness that is found with Jesus.

MORE PRIESTS

The Eucharistic presence of Our Lord is inseparable from the priesthood. The priest, through the words of the consecration, brings down upon the altar the Son of the Eternal Father; in this fact, there lies a wonderful similarity between the mission of the blessed Mother and the office of the priest. Mary cannot but be eager to see the number of priests increased so that the mystery of Bethlehem may be perpetuated and spread throughout the world, that glory be given to God in the highest and men may find peace in Jesus, the Prince of peace. Catholic parents with a grateful appreciation of this mystery will feel proud to give their sons to the service of the altar, pray and work for an increase of priestly vocations.

The mystery of the Rosary leads us to Bethlehem of Juda and thence to the Bethlehems of the Catholic Church, scattered all over the world. He who lay in the manger as an Infant is present in the Blessed Eucharist as our High Priest, victim, bread of life. O come, let us adore Him, love Him the more, the less He is loved in the world. And let us not forget to pray for an increase of priestly vocations for the service of our Eucharistic Emmanuel. All this will console and delight our blessed Mother and be a source of untold blessings for the world.

THE PRESENTATION

Two events are commemorated in this mystery, the purification of our blessed mother and the presentation of Jesus. According to Jewish law a mother, after having given birth to a boy, was considered legally unclean for forty days. At the end of this period she had to present herself in the temple, if possible, to be declared clean. The ceremonies connected with this act called for a sacrifice of expiation for which a dove was used, and the burnt offering of a lamb. In the case of a poor mother a dove was substituted for the lamb, and so we read that Mary, being poor, offered a pair of turtle doves. The second event is the ransoming of Jesus. This ceremony was to keep alive the memory of the miraculous deliverance of the Israelites from the slavery of Egypt. The last plague which God sent upon the Egyptians was the death of their firstborn sons, whereas the firstborn sons of the Israelites were saved. In memory of this event God ordained that the firstborn son of every Jewish family was to be dedicated to His service. However, soon after this God chose the tribe of Levi for the performance of all priestly functions. Since then the firstborn sons of all the other tribes had to be presented in the temple and to be ransomed from the original obligation by the payment of a fixed sum of money. Although it was not necessary that the child himself should be brought to the temple, this was generally done. It is in the observance of these two laws that we find Mary with her Infant Child in the temple.

MARY’S HUMILITY

Since the birth of Jesus had been miraculous, a virginal birth, Mary did not fall under the law. However, to claim exemption would have necessitated revelation of this mystery, and that was not the will of God at the time. Grateful that her privilege thus could remain hidden, Mary humbly submits to this law like the other mothers of Israel. She is the handmaid of the Lord with no other desire but that the will of God should be done by her and in her.

PRESENTATION OF JESUS

The presentation of Jesus, though outwardly like that of all the other firstborn sons of the Jews, is yet totally different. For Jesus it is not a release from, but the first external consecration of Himself to, the priestly office. True, He will not act as a priest of the order of Levi, but He is priest and victim, first in the bloody sacrifice of the cross and then to the end of time in the Eucharistic sacrifice as priest of the order of Melchisedech. In fact, the priesthood of the Old Testament and all its sacrifices are but types and figures of His priesthood and sacrifice. Jesus, even as an Infant, has the full use of reason and, though not spoken audibly, the words of the prophet are in His heart, “Sacrifice and oblation Thou wouldst not, but a body Thou has fitted to Me; in holocausts and sin-offerings Thou hast had no pleasure. Then said I, “Behold I come. . . . to do Thy will O God”” (Hebr. 10, 5–7).

A SIGN CONTRADICTED

There lived at the time in Jerusalem a holy old man by the name of Simeon. He had received from the Holy Spirit the assurance that he would not die before having seen the Messias for whose coming he had prayed all his life. Simeon was in the temple as Mary and Joseph brought in the child Jesus and, enlightened by the Holy Spirit, he recognizes in Him at once the promised Saviour. He takes the Child into his arms, his heart overflowing with gratitude. Now he can die in peace, for his eyes have seen the light sent for the illumination of the Gentiles and the glory of Israel. But salvation will depend upon the attitude which men take toward this Child. And Simeon said to Mary His Mother, “Behold, this child is destined for the fall and for the rise of many in Israel, and for a sign that shall be contradicted. And thy own soul a sword shall pierce, that the thoughts of many hearts may be revealed” (Luke 2, 25–35). It will be so because the cross of Christ shall be a folly to the Gentiles and a scandal to the Jews, but to those that are called the power of God and the wisdom of God (1 Cor. 1–23). So we, too, must take our stand with regard to Christ. Let it be one of loyal and generous service. Let us offer ourselves to Him in His own words, whatever the call may be, “Behold I come to do Thy will.”

THE CHRISTIAN’S PRESENTATION

We, too, had our presentation when through Baptism we were cleansed from sin, incorporated into Christ and dedicated to the service of God. We repeated this consecration again and again during life, and that with particular solemnity on some outstanding occasions like the day of our first Holy Communion, the day of profession for Religious, the ordination day for priests. All these latter acts of consecration usually are made in connection with the Eucharistic Sacrifice; this illustrates our desire to uniteour work and toil in God’s service with that of our Divine High Priest and Victim for the accomplishment of His mission as well as our conviction that courage and strength to persevere on our sacrificial path flows from the Saviour’s sacrifice.

CONSECRATED LIVES

What we should do in order to make our lives fruitful for our own salvation and that of others is suggested by the persons acting in this mystery of the Presentation. The example of Simeon points to continuous prayer. There can be no love of Christ without at least praying for the success of the cause of Christ. From Mary we learn to be humble and not to boast of our merits or of the good we do. We do no favour to God by living for God, but God does an exceedingly great favour to us by accepting our service. What we do we can do only through His grace and even after we have done all we could do we must look upon ourselves as useless servants who have done nothing but their duty. For the lover of Christ the wish, the example, the interests of Jesus are a command. Narrow selfishness has time and energy for amassing the goods of this world, for securing comfort and pleasure, but has neither for the advancement of the cause of Christ. This is the reason why the cause of Christ does not make better progress in the world. The Presentation suggests particularly to priests and Religious the spirit of joyous self-immolation. Their very state of life is synonymous with it. They offered themselves on the day of their ordination or profession; they were called by name and they answered with a joyful adsum, present. Let them not be sorry for what they have done, nor take back what they have given, when in the course of time God takes them at their word and gives them to drink of the cup of suffering. The grain of wheat must give up its own life in order to live in the grains that grow from it.

The mystery of the Presentation thus understood leads to Jesus, Priest and Victim in the Eucharistic Sacrifice. It points to prayer, humility, the spirit of sacrifice and joyous self-immolation in the pursuance of the interests of God and souls. They are the means by which to overcome the selfishness and worldliness of men, the pleasure-seeking and flight from the cross that interfere so much with the following of Christ and the extension of His Kingdom. Also in our case it is true that, “This child is destined for the fall and for the rise of many,” Our success, perseverance and salvation depend upon the attitude we take toward Jesus.

THE FINDING OF JESUS IN THE TEMPLE

According to the law every Israelite, beginning with the age of twelve, was bound to make a pilgrimage to Jerusalem for the principal feasts, especially for Easter. Although Jesus most probably had made this pilgrimage more than once before, the one He made at the age of twelve is recorded in the Gospel, because it was the first time He made it as a “son of the law,” that is, as one bound by law, and because of the extraordinary circumstances connected with it.

JESUS LOST

At the end of the customary celebrations Mary and Joseph set out on their return journey to Nazareth. Owing to the large crowds and to the custom that members of the same family would often travel in separate groups, it is easy to understand how Jesus could stay behind without either Mary or Joseph noticing His absence. It was only in the evening, when the groups arrived at the camping place previously agreed upon, and members of the family would meet again, that the loss of Jesus was discovered. Anxiously Mary and Joseph inquired with other groups and passersby whether they had any knowledge of Jesus” whereabouts, but no information could be obtained. With hearts torn by grief they set out at once for Jerusalem and spent the whole following day in seeking Jesus.

JESUS IN THE TEMPLE

Without the knowledge of Mary and Joseph, Jesus had remained in the temple at Jerusalem. It had become a custom for doctors of the law to set themselves up in the temple halls, interpreting the law and answering questions for the benefit of any one who might be interested. On the occasion of the great feasts large crowds of people would gather around them, glad to have the opportunity to hear the famous teachers of Israel. Jesus had joined one of these groups. He soon aroused the attention of the doctors and the bystanders by the wisdom of His questions and answers as well as by the charm of His personality and speech.

QUESTIONS ASKED

We do not know what questions Jesus asked those learned men, but it would not seem far-fetched to suppose that they had to do with prophecies regarding the Messias and the fulfilment of some of them within recent years. He may have put them through a little examination in contemporary history. Had they ever heard or did they remember the wonderful events that had taken place in Bethlehem about twelve years before this, a story told by shepherds, of angels appearing and announcing the birth of the Saviour? Did they know the story of a little boy being brought to the temple forty days later and of a holy old man by the name of Simeon who said some very striking things about the boy? And surely, they must remember those strange men coming from the East and inquiring in Jerusalem about the newborn King of the Jews! They themselves had directed those men to Bethlehem; did they follow up this strange event, especially when they heard about the massacre of so many little boys in Bethlehem and surroundings, because those Magi did not return to Herod? Could these events not have been the fulfilment of certain prophecies? Such and similar questions on the part of Jesus seem very likely in view of the purpose of this first public manifestation of Himself. He wished to make the leaders of Israel more observant of current events and to prepare them for His public life to begin eighteen years later. But such questions must have kept those doctors of the law and the people in suspense and amazement. Other doctors and people were attracted and Jesus became the centre of a large crowd of people.

JESUS FOUND

It was in such environment that Mary and Joseph found Jesus. Their first reaction is unbounded joy; but then the Mother’s tender heart is eager to know whether there had been any fault on her or Joseph’s part that Jesus had been left behind. She asks, “Son, why hast Thou done so to us? Behold, Thy father and I have been seeking Thee sorrowing.” No, there had been no fault on either her or Joseph’s part, nor had Jesus Himself been guilty of any disobedience. But Jesus is not only the Son of Mary but also the Son of the Eternal Father, He is the God-Man and the Saviour, and the present event is part of His mission. And He said to them, “How is it that you sought Me? Did you not know that I must be about My Father’s business?” According to the Father’s will the time had come to call the attention of the teachers and leaders of the people to truths and events which would help to direct them to Him in due time, provided they were of good will. That was doing the Father’s business, and to that business He must attend above all others. Mary did not understand the full import of these words of Jesus, but she bowed in all humility to the will of God and she kept all these things carefully in her heart to ponder over them in years to come. Above all, she is happy that no estrangement has arisen between her and Jesus; He remains her loving Child. And He went down with them to Nazareth and was subject to them (Luke 2, 41–52).

SOULS IN DISTRESS

The mystery gives an answer to so many problems of distressed and sorrowful hearts. Fear and doubt and the sense of abandonment are not signs that things are going badly with us spiritually. Interior trials fall to the lot of all true lovers of God; they should not trick us into doing things which might bring on a real loss of God, through mortal sin. The sense of abandonment in particular is invaluable for the purification of the soul. It atones for sin by which in one way or other we have abandoned God, choosing our will in preference to His. But whilst we may thus experience intense mental pain, sorrow and discouragement, God is and acts within us. After a particularly violent temptation, when she had thought herself abandoned by God, St. Teresa asked Jesus where He had been during that time, and she received the answer that He had been right within her.

SEEKING JESUS

After the example of Mary and Joseph we must seek Jesus in such a situation. The fact that we are temples of God and the Holy Spirit dwells within us directs us to where He should be sought. Let us enter this temple of our souls and with unwavering faith and trust in the goodness of God humble ourselves, acknowledging ourselves unworthy of experiencing the sweetness of His presence. Let us adore the incomprehensible but always loving designs of Divine Providence, and by and by we shall feel peace return through the conviction that we have not lost Him, that He is still with us. He will speak tous as He spoke to the apostles during the storm on the lake, “Why are you fearful, O you of little faith?” (Matt. 8,26).

And since Jesus abides with us in the Blessed Sacrament, we must seek Him also there. From the tabernacle He will speak to us of love and obedience unto death, direct our attention to the glory of the way of the cross that leads to the possession of eternal peace. We shall sense His love which allowed this trial to come upon us only to draw us closer to His Sacred Heart.

As we ourselves thus seek and find Jesus and in Him the peace of our souls, so we should be helpful to others in seeking and finding Jesus. Many souls there are, indeed, harassed by doubts and fears and despondency, sinners who in a weak moment yielded to their evil passions and now find out that it is a bitter and an evil thing to have forsaken the Lord; there are those separated brethren of ours outside the true Church, who feel the emptiness of their impoverished religion and seek the full truth of Christ that alone can satisfy the heart. They all need help.

Whether the sense of abandonment is a punishment or a trial, our reaction must be the same; we must seek Jesus with love and confidence. He will not be angry with the sinner forever, nor will He hide Himself forever from loving souls, He, whose delight it is to be with the children of men. We shall find Him and sorrow shall be turned into joy. Through meditation on the mysteries of the rosary our Lady of Fatima directs our attention to the fountains of peace, and she will assist us in finding them in the Heart of her Divine Son through her own immaculate and motherly heart.

Nihil obstat:

W. M. COLLINS, Censor Dioc.

Imprimatur:

@ D. MANNIX,

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis

2nd August, 1950.

********

The Message of The Rosary III

BY REV. A. BISKUPEK, S.V.D

INDEX

THE SORROWFUL MYSTERIES

Whereas in the Joyful Mysteries the sacred writers record at some length the part which Mary played in them, the same writers are silent about her part in the sorrowful mysteries. All that we learn from them is that the Mother of Jesus stood beneath the cross, and that from the cross Jesus recommended her to St. John as his Mother, and St. John to her as her son. But what we know about Mary and her relation to Jesus is sufficient to supply the rest. Mary shared in the sufferings of her Divine Son as no other human person ever did or could have done, and she did it with sentiments of complete submission to the will of God and love for souls.

The Sorrowful Mysteries of the rosary illustrate the sacrificial character of the Christian life. The crosses of life are manifold, but they can all be reduced to the one or other of the sufferings commemorated in these sorrowful mysteries. In particular they are: Fear, anxiety, disgust experienced with regard to the crosses that actually afflict us or that we see approaching: bodily pain, humiliation, the labours and hardships imposed upon us by our vocational duties, bitterness against those whom we consider the cause of our suffering, the urge to throw off the cross when patience gives out.

The general lesson inculcated by these mysteries is patience, the spirit of penance and love of the cross, and that is the object our Lady of Fatima had in view when she asked for meditation on the mysteries of the rosary.

THE AGONY

After the Last Supper, Jesus accompanied by his apostles, went out to Mount Olivet, on the Western slope of which was the Garden of Gethsemani. He left eight apostles at the gate, whilst He with Peter, John and James proceeded farther into the garden. The latter three were the apostles who had witnessed the transfiguration on Mount Thabor; now they were to witness its counterpart.

All of a sudden Jesus began to grow sad, to fear and to tremble, and He said to them, “ My s oul is sorrowful even unto death. Stay you here and watch with me.” Then He withdrew from them as far as a stone’s throw and the terrible agony set in. Staggering under the weight of crushing fear He falls to the ground, and with an expression of grief and helplessness in His voice, such as the apostles had never witnessed before. He prayed, “Father, if it is possible, let this chalice pass away from Me. Nevertheless, not as I will but as thou wilt.” Restless and exhausted He rises after some time and returns to the three apostles, seeking consolation, some words of sympathy, or at least the assurance that they were watching with Him in their prayers. Yet He finds them asleep, asleep, they His trusted friends, whilst His betrayer is awake and active. We sense the disappointment of the Saviour’s Heart in that gentle reproach:” Could you not watch one hour with Me? Watch ye and pray, that ye enter not into temptation. The spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak.” Without having found the consolation He had sought, Jesus returns to His former place and the agony continues. Abysmal as may be His sorrow and furiously as hell may rage around Him, He never wavers in His attitude towards His Father; not His Will but the Will of the Father is to be done. Again He arises and seeks the company of the apostles; should He not have expected that after the previous warning, they would have kept awake? Yet He finds them asleep the second time, and without waking them He returns to prayer. What the apostles did not give Him is now brought to Him by a messenger of His Heavenly Father, “And there appeared to Him an angel from heaven strengthening Him.” What could that consolation of the angel have been? The one thing that Jesus craved above all others, namely, that His Father was pleased with Him and that souls would be saved through His suffering. We may assume that in that moment He also felt the strength and consolation that His Passion would bring to souls of coming ages in their sufferings, the hope of salvation it would give them, the courage that would lead them to victory and heavenly glory.

Thus Jesus was prepared for the last phase of His agony. It was the most fearful, and He prayed the more that, if it were the Father’s Will the chalice would pass away from Him. Just as He prayed and saw that this was not the will of the Father, but that He should rather drink the chalice of suffering, the agony became so intense that it pressed the blood out of His pores and like drops of perspiration it trickled down upon the ground. At last the agony came to an end. Quiet and composure returned to His soul, and He rejoined the apostles. As far as He was concerned they now could sleep and rest, but there was no time left; the traitor was approaching.

What was it that caused this terrible agony of our Blessed Saviour? It was the sight of the sufferings He was to endure, the malice of the sins for which He was to suffer, the ingratitude of men and the uselessness of His Passion for so many. Although Jesus had known these things throughout His life, it had been the Will of the Father that their full impact should be felt only as the terrors of the Passion were to break in upon Him. And so there are before His allseeing eyes the traitor doing his treacherous work, the injustice of His trials before the Jewish Council and the Roman governor. He beholds Himself heaped with indignity, mocked, spat upon, scourged, crowned with thorns, nailed to the cross, hated and rejected by the people He loved so much, His saving blood called down upon them as a curse. The very thought of such sufferings is enough to fill the mind with the utmost horror. But Jesus also suffered as the Head of His Mystical Body, the Church. Into His sufferings enter as bitter ingredients all injustice inflicted upon the Church in the course of centuries, the tortures endured by the martyrs, the sorrows of every description that ever fell to the lot of His followers. He suffers for the sins of the whole world and as God-Man He grasps the whole meanness, hatefulness, contemptibility, the ghastly hideousness of sin. His loving Heart feels the ingratitude of men and the uselessness of His Passion for millions of them. How few there are that think of His sufferings and thank Him for His love; how few that serve Him with the love and loyalty that He deserves. How much half-heartedness, selfishness, haggling and bartering there is in His service, how little is given, how many conditions and reservations attached to even that little. Must not the tempter have pointed mockingly with fiendish glee to an ungrateful world forgetful of Him, “And for such people you are going to endure such terrible suffering?” No wonder He falls to the ground in utter exhaustion, cries to His Heavenly Father that this chalice might pass away from Him, and no wonder that bloody perspiration runs down His body.

Prayerful reflection on this mystery, as requested by our Lady of Fatima, will disclose to us its significance. In His agony Jesus atones for the rebellion of sin. The essential element in sin is its opposition to the Will of God by way of simple rejection or defiant rebellion against it and a substitution in its place of the human will. Rebellion against the Will of God has assumed gigantic proportions. God’s very existence is denied, His authority ignored in education, in the home and family, in business and politics.

If such an attitude is found among the enemies of God it must deeply hurt the Heart of Jesus, the great Lover of men, but it hurts more when it is found among those who call themselves His friends and followers. There are Catholics for whom the Will of God means practically nothing. They go their own way in arranging the affairs of their lives, flee from the cross and refuse to carry the yoke of the Lord. If they pray at all, it is not with submission to the Will of God, but with insistence upon their own will. Their will must be done or else they give up their faith, quit the Church. It is for the pride of this rebellion that Jesus atones in His agony, when crushed by the weight of all the world’s sins, He prays that not His but His Father’s Will be done.

The Christian’s reaction to the agony of our Blessed Saviour will be a greater readiness to submit to the Will of God under all circumstances, and to offer up the repugnance which nature may experience, in atonement for all rebellion against the Will of God. By doing this we can in the truest sense of the word, offer consolation to Jesus in His agony; whatever is done now was known to Him and gave Him comfort in that terrible hour of Gethsemani. He sought our consolation as His eyes peered into the future just as He sought the consolation of His apostles. The fact that He found so little of it, is the reason for the touching complaint of the Sacred Heart to St. Margaret Mary about the coldness and indifference of so many souls, even such as are consecrated to Him in the priestly and religious state. For the same reason He requested the saint to spend the hour before midnight from Thursday to Friday before the tabernacle to bear Him company, to beg the Father’s pardon for sinners, to share in some way the bitterness He experienced in that hour of agony.

This mystery thus brings the agonizing Saviour closer to us. It arouses our compassion, sorrow for our past lack of conformity with the Will of God; it prompts us henceforth to submit to the Will of God. We learn to pray with Him, our Divine Redeemer, even in the bitterest trial, “Not my will but Thine be done.” But this is also the most ardent desire of our Blessed Mother of Fatima, whose never changing attitude of will was, “Be it done to me according to Thy word.”

THE SCOURGING

Pilate was fully convinced of the innocence of Jesus, but politician and coward that he was, he did not have the courage of his conviction, and so he rather preferred expediency to justice. In order to appease the Jews he had Jesus scourged. Pilate may have believed that after this the Jews would desist from asking for the death penalty. The sacred writers do not enter into the details of the scourging, since these were known to their readers; they simply record the order of Pilate, “that Jesus be scourged.” (Matt. 27, 26).

Jesus most probably suffered the Roman scourging. This punishment was administered with a whip which looked much like the British cato”-nine-tails and usually little iron balls or hooks were tied into the leather thongs. Moreover, the Roman scourging was not limited to any number of blows; that was left to the judges, or more often to the soldiers who carried out the sentence and as a rule were men of a cruel and inhuman type. So Jesus is stripped of His garments, His wrists are tied to the top of the column of flagellation, so that His feet barely reach the ground, and the terrible scourging begins. We shudder as we think of the Most Holy subjected to the indignities of a public whipping. The blows rain down on His innocent body, bluish streaks appear, the flesh is lifted in horrid welts; soon the skin breaks and shreds of skin and flesh are hurled all around by the swishing lashes; the blood runs down in streams. The victim is writhing in pain and half-suppressed moans escape from His lips. At last the torture is over; the hands of Jesus are loosed and utterly exhausted He drops to the ground and there lies in His own blood. Thus was fulfilled the prophecy of old, “I have become even as a worm and no man, the outcast of humanity and the castaway of the people.” (Ps. 21, 7). And the prophet Isaias says of Him, “There is no beauty in Him nor comeliness, despised and the most abject of men, a man of sorrows and acquainted with infirmity. Surely, He hath borne our infirmities, and we have thought Him as it were a leper and as one struck by God and afflicted.” (Isa. 53, 2–4).

Why did Jesus submit to such a dreadful suffering? “He was wounded for our iniquities, He was bruised for our sins.” By this terrible scourging He wished to atone above all for the sins of the flesh. As our Blessed Lady of Fatima revealed, more souls are in hell because of impurity than because of any other sin. The same has always been the opinion of spiritual writers. The mystery of the scourging, therefore, has a special message for our times. As in the days of the deluge, when God destroyed the human race because of the sins of the flesh, so now man has become flesh. The sins of the flesh are glorified in the press, on the screen, over the radio, they are represented no longer as sins, but as the lawful gratification of nature, the romance of youth, the zest of adult age. And so the flesh rules the world and ruins souls. But neither the fact that millions of men have become the slaves of this vice, nor the fact that the world glorifies it, can change its sinful, wicked nature. The impure shall not enter into the Kingdom of God.

The sins of the flesh are so grievous because they poison the very fountains of life and desecrate the noble and wonderful faculty given to man for the procreation of the human race, for the establishment of family and home. Men take the pleasures and refuse to pay the price; sins of the flesh are nothing but selfishness and cowardice parading under the mask of love.

In the case of the Christian, who through Baptism has been made a temple of God, these sins moreover constitute a desecration of that temple. St. Paul impresses this idea upon the early Christians; converts from Judaism as well as those from paganism well understood that a temple is a holy place and a desecration of it a terrible sacrilege. To the present day Holy Church reminds the faithful of the same truth when in the ceremonies of Baptism she directs the priest to say to the person to be baptized, “Receive the sign of the cross upon thy forehead and upon thy heart; take unto thee the faith into the heavenly commandments, and be thou such in thy ways that thou mayest be fit henceforth to be a temple of God.” More holy than the temple of stone is the living temple of man. The conclusion then drawn by St. Paul is clear, “If any man violate the temple of God, him shall God destroy; for the temple of God is holy, which you are” (Cor; 3, 17). The believing Catholic is filled with horror when he sees or reads about the desecration of churches, when altars and tabernacles are demolished, the holy vessels broken, the holy Species thrown upon the floor and trampled upon. So do the sins of the flesh desecrate the living temple of God, making it the dwelling place of the devil. How great the sin of impurity must be we can gather from the terrors of the scourging which God suffered in order to atone for it.

Our Lady of Fatima, emphatically insists upon the necessity of penance, that is, doing things that are painful, thus to atone for the unlawful pleasure derived from sin. Holy Church obliges the faithful, particularly during the holy season of Lent, to the performance of penitential works, especially fasting. However, fasting in the wider sense comprises all works of mortification. There are many works that are painful and cause considerable hardship. To get up early in the morning in order to assist at the Eucharistic Sacrifice of atonement, to continue patiently and faithfully at a monotonous duty, to perform the one or the other work of mercy when this is inconvenient, to bear with patience, sickness, privation, heat, cold, the faults and failings of others are all such penitential works. If performed in the spirit of humility and contrition, God will accept them as reparation for sins committed. At the same time they strengthen the will and merit abundant grace, so that in future we may be stronger in temptation and the more surely keep holy the temple of God in our souls.

It is not only atonement for the sins of impurity that this mystery calls for, but it also reminds the Christian of his positive duty to be pure. If we desire to live up to the ideal of Christian perfection, we must sublimate our thoughts, lift them up to pure and holy things. As the Apostle says, we must mind the things that are above, where Christ is sitting at the right hand of the Father; we must resist evil thoughts as soon as we become aware of them, for the longer they are allowed to linger on, the stronger they grow. The more we reflect on ourselves as the sacred temples of God, the more the very thought of impurity will horrify us, and the more we shall be inflamed with love for purity. A pure life does not make a man sad and gloomy, but rather fills him with heavenly peace; it gives a foretaste of the bliss of the saints in heaven, who in the temple not made by the hands of men, not only delight in the thought of God as in this life, but see him face to face. And will not love between the married as well as between young people contemplating marriage be immeasurably nobler and more soul-satisfying, if the lover sees in the beloved not only the physical charms of the body, but the spiritual beauty of the soul resplendent with the splendour of God’s grace? Such love will be reflected in conduct that carefully keeps from the beloved whatever might be harmful, and that is above all the greatest of all misfortunes, sin.

This is the message of the mystery of the scourging for our times. From the spirit of fornication, deliver us, O Lord. Mother most pure, pray for us. .

THE CROWNING WITH THORNS

After the scourging Jesus was to be taken to Pilate for the final verdict. But the governor was still busy and the guards in charge of Jesus had to wait. So these cruel men looked for some sport to pass away the time. They now remembered that the Jews had accused Jesus of calling Himself the king of the Jews. That idea suggested some royal sport, the crowning of Jesus as king.

At once the soldiers took Jesus to a broken pillar and seated Him on it. They then tore off his garments again and threw over Him a ragged purple cloak, similar to those worn by Roman generals in a triumph. From the branches of a prickly bush, provided with long and sharp thorns, they plaited a thick wreath; now they had a royal crown. This they put on His head, pressing it down so as to make it fit. With burning pain the thorns penetrate into the scalp, injuring even the bone of the skull. The blood again begins to flow. His hair, already matted by the blood of the scourging, becomes a twisted and disorderly mass; blood is trickling down over His forehead and cheeks, forming around His eyes, nose and lips a dark unsightly crust. At last, to finish their preparation~ they put into His fettered hands a reed as royal sceptre and all is ready for the sport. Calling together the other soldiers of the cohort these cruel men now march around Jesus in derision, genuflect and mockingly salute Him with the words, “Hail, King of the Jews.” Then standing before Him, they spit upon Him, take the reed out of His hands and with it strike Him on His thorn-crowned head. And so the sport continues while the all-seeing, outraged majesty of God veils His face and angels weep and tremble.

The crowning of Jesus with thorns is the atonement for the sins of pride; pride, the root from which all other sins have sprung. It is a mystery of iniquity that beings created by God and endowed with intelligence should attempt to be like unto God their Creator. But so did Lucifer in heaven, and so did men on earth. As in the case of Lucifer so in the case of men, their own exaltation and the excellence of the gifts which they had received, blinded them to their own nothingness before God. We have seen in our own days how men arrogate to themselves divine authority, attempting to dethrone God, to abrogate the Ten Commandments and to substitute in their place their own hell-inspired principles.

All heresies and rebellions have their origin in pride. In the former the human mind refuses to accept the truth revealed by God, and in the latter men refuse to render obedience to the authority appointed by God. Pride enters into almost every phase of human life. Disrespect for God’s representatives, destructive criticism that undermines authority, defiance and lawlessness are the poisonous fruits growing from the same root of pride. But also contempt of our fellow-man, all haughty and supercilious treatment meted out to him, all disregard of His rights, all pharisaical self-complacency that sees the good in oneself and is blind to the good in others, all this is pride in action which put the crown of thorns upon our Saviour’s head. By the pain and humiliation of His crowning with thorns He atoned for it.

We even recognize some particular forms of human pride in the various phases of Our Lord’s crowning. In the head crowned with thorns we see atoned the pride and vainglorious thoughts and desires that lead to rebellion against God, to contempt and oppression of fellow-men. The purple cloak may well remind us of the pride and vanity displayed in the fashions of the world, that sinful desire to attract attention, to call forth admiration, to outshine others. The reed in the hands of our thorncrowned Saviour atones for the lust for power, for tyranny of imposing one’s own will upon others and using violence against such as attempt to resist. The mockery of Christ’s divine and royal authority through the genuflection of the soldiers, how it atones for the lack of respect for God and holy things, the desecration of churches, the contempt for which the temple of God in our neighbour’s soul is treated, those haughty, sarcastic gestures, by which we ridicule and vilify our fellow-men! Jesus is spat and struck in the face; but is it not precisely the face upon which the most careful attention is bestowed so that it may charm, subdue and enslave? So much attention is given to physical beauty and so little interest shown in the beauty of the soul.

There is a painting that represents Our Blessed Saviour crowned with thorns and holding in His fettered hands the reed, behind the tabernacle door. The picture is deeply significant. Jesus, truly present in the Blessed Sacrament, still receives from millions of men nothing but contempt, coldness and indifference; even marks of reverence are frequently given to Him in such a way as to create the impression of mockery rather than of faith. So we wish to offer to Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament all reverence and love, all adoration and glorification due to Him to atone for the unspeakable humiliations and indignities which He endured in the crowning with thorns.

We wish to atone furthermore by reverence and obedience to the representatives of the Divine King in the Church, of whom Jesus Himself has said, “He that heareth you, heareth Me; and he who despiseth you, despiseth Me” (Luke 10, 16). And since there is no authority except from God, every act of obedience rendered because of God is also an act of reparation for the rebellion of pride, that put the crown of thorns upon the head of Jesus. On the other hand, wherever human authority forgets its dependence upon divine authority and in the rebellious spirit of Lucifer, demands things which would be a denial of Christ, the King, there can be but one answer, and that is loyalty to Christ even unto death.

We can, furthermore, atone for the sins of pride by humble reverence and respect for our fellow-men as the images and temples of God and the redeemed of Christ, and that, the more effectively the lowlier they are whom we thus honour. But the most fitting, though the most painful, will be the reparation that is rendered to Jesus by true humility. The humble will not consider themselves better than their fellow-men, will not prefer themselves to them; they will through modesty in dress and speech and manners, suppress the natural inclination to pride and vainglory. Above all, the truly humble are satisfied to be humbled, that is, ignored, put to shame, ridiculed, despised. All possible contempt that we could endure in this life is not too great a reparation for one mortal sin, by which the sinner has deserved the everlasting disgrace of hell. No other reparation will be as pleasing and comforting to our thorn-crowned King.

Precious lessons are learned from this mystery of the crowning of Our Blessed Saviour. Let us seek the strength for their practice in loving union with Jesus humbled and despised. Under a Head crowned with thorns we must not be pampered members.

O Sacred Head surrounded O Jesus, I adore Thee, By crown of piercing thorns, A humble plea I bring, O bleeding Head, so wounded My guilt I own before Thee Reviled, and put to scorn. O pardon me, my King.

JESUS CARRIES THE CROSS

Pilate had tried repeatedly to release Jesus without offending the Jews. However, all was in vain; his last efforts were answered by their shouts that they had no king but Caesar, and that anyone that made himself king was not a friend of Caesar. Pilate feared he might be reported to the emperor as favouring rebellious elements among the people, and that would have meant the end of his career. So political expediency decided the case and Jesus was condemned to death.

The official act of condemnation was, according to Roman law, very brief. Sitting upon his official chair, the judge pronounced the sentence upon the accused standing before him in the words “You shall be crucified,” and turning to the prisoner’s guard he continued, “Soldier, go and get the cross ready.” The sentence was carried out immediately. The cross was brought forward and given to the condemned to carry, and the procession to the place of execution began to move. In front of it, on horseback rode the Roman centurion, behind him walked a soldier with a tablet on which was written the crime because of which the condemned suffered the death penalty; then came the condemned carrying the cross, surrounded by four soldiers and followed by a crowd of people, that was swelled by newcomers as the procession moved on through the most frequented streets of the city. Exactly the same procedure was followed in the case of Jesus. The commotion caused by His condemnation and the crowd accompanying Him must have been extraordinarily great, because He had been known throughout the country; moreover, it was Paschaltide, with thousands of pilgrims in the city, and it was a triple execution, since two criminals were to suffer the same penalty. Let us now follow Jesus on His sorrowful way of the cross.

It would have been strenuous work for a very robust man to carry a heavy cross over the streets of Jerusalem, roughly paved, uneven, dusty, first descending for a little while and then rising towards the hill of the crucifixion. The distance was about one mile. But Jesus had been extremely weakened by the terrible events of the preceding night and the early morning. He had suffered the agony in the garden, had been cruelly treated by the soldiery during the hours of the night, had gone through the ordeal or trials before the high priests and Pilate, had been scourged and crowned with thorns. He needed rest and care, but instead He now must carry the heavy cross. What excruciating pain every step must have caused by the cross dragging behind Him on the ground, jerking up and down on the cobble stones, striking against the crown of thorns as He staggered on in a daze of utter exhaustion. His soul is tormented by the disgrace of the penalty. People look at Him in amazement; He, the famous Teacher and Miracle Worker, now exposed as an imposter and brought to His deserved punishment; the Pharisees and doctors of the law are conspicuous in the procession with triumphant mien and bearing, and the presence of the two criminals would suggest that Jesus was one like them. Jesus” way of the cross is the way of unspeakable suffering; His body is racked by pain, His soul steeped in agony.

Yet it is not the endurance of pain as such that brought us salvation but the manner in which Jesus suffered. He had entered the world with the wordsof the psalmist in His mind, “Behold I come to do thy Will,” and this attitude He renewed throughout His life, particularly during His agony in the garden when He prayed, “Abba, Father, all things are possible to Thee. Remove this chalice from Me; but notwhat I will, but what Thou wilt” (Mar. 14, 36). It had not been the Father’s will to remove this cup of suffering and so He drinks it to its dregs; yet it remains for Him the Father’s cup. “The chalice which my Father hath given me, shall I not drink it?” (John 18, 11).

Because it was His Father’s Will, Jesus suffered without complaining. It would be unworthy of Him, the Son of God and Redeemer of the world, to show signs of unwillingness, discontent and weakness whilst doing the things willed by the Father and performing the greatest act of His life, in fact, the greatest the world has ever witnessed.

However, suffering resignedly does not mean suffering in a spirit of cynicism or insensibility; that would ill accord with the humble Jesus. No, He suffers like a man that feels the pain of the cross in all its bitterness and gratefully accepts any relief or consolation offered Him. In fact, since He suffers as the Head of the human race, He eagerly desires such manifestations of sympathy and acts of charity, knowing that the members of His Mystical Body must have a share in His sufferings, if they are to have a share in the blessings of the Passion. The sacred writers record the kind acts of Simon of Cyrene and the compassion of the holy women; tradition has added the meeting of Jesus with His Holy Mother and the charitable act of St. Veronica.

There were some pious women in the crowd accompanying Jesus; they were friends of Jesus convinced of His innocence; all they could do was to give expression to their grief through tears and lamentations. Jesus rewards them by a warning that points to the real cause of His sufferings and the future punishment of the ungrateful city, “Daughters of Jerusalem, weep not over Me, but weep for yourselves and for your children. For behold, days shall come wherein they will say, “Blessed are the barren and the wombs that have not borne, and the paps that have not given suck.” Then shall they begin to say to the mountains, “Fall upon us,” and to the hills, “Cover us.’ For if in the green wood they do these things, what shall be done in the dry?” (Luke 23, 28–31).

Simon the Cyrenean was forced to help Jesus carry the cross, because the soldiers feared Jesus might not be strong enough to reach the top of the hill. it is with reluctance that Simon begins this act of charity, but soon this reluctance changes into the realization that he has received the greatest favour of his life. In all probability he received the grace of faith in Jesus, resulting in a holy life and zealous work in the young Christian Church. Most likely also his sons, Rufus and Alexander, became prominent members of the early Church. And what must have been the joy of Simon on Easter day when he heard of the resurrection of Jesus, and throughout his life, as he saw the Church of Christ spreading among Jews and Gentiles. But the climax of his joy will come when, on the day of judgement, he will behold this cross of Jesus coming in the clouds of heaven in resplendent light as the symbol of Christ’s final victory.

The fourth station of the way of the cross records the meeting of Jesus with His Mother. Certain it is that Mary followed the procession, for we find her in the end standing beneath the cross. So it is most probable that somewhere on the way to Calvary she managed to get so near to Jesus as to be able to speak to Him. However, words were not needed; their tearful eyes met and they revealed to each other the sentiments of their hearts, unwavering submission to the will of the Father, love unto death, and that is for both the greatest comfort and consolation.

The sixth station of the popular way of the cross recalls the deed of Veronica. Courageously this pious woman pushes through the crowd and the guard of soldiers to offer Jesus a towel to wipe His face. By this act she publicly proclaimed her love for Jesus as well as her disapproval of the way in which He was treated. Jesus showed His appreciation of this kind deed by leaving on the towel the impression of His sacred face. Thus Jesus will always reward even the least manifestation of sympathy and love for Him by impressing upon the soul a deeper understanding of His crucified love.

The life of the Christian has been called a way of the cross and rightly so. As another Christ the Christian must follow in the footsteps of His Divine Master; Jesus Himself has expressly demanded it, making the carrying of the cross the indispensable condition for discipleship, “If any man will come after Me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross daily, and follow Me.” (Luke 9, 23).

The Christian’s cross consists in the observance of the commandments. The very fact that most of the commandment are given in the negative form, “Thou shalt not,” is evidence that human nature in its present state is inclined to do precisely the thing that is forbidden. The further fact that the threat of punishment is added to the transgression and that the promise of reward is added to their observance, points to the difficulty of their observance. The same holds for the duties of each one’s state of life. It is this inherent difficulty which makes the Christian life a way of the cross.

Moreover, God may and commonly does add sufferings not necessarily connected with either the commandments or the duties of one’s state of life. These are the manifold tribulations that fall to the lot of men, sickness and disease, the death of loved ones, misfortune and poverty, dissensions and enmities, unavoidable yet trying associations, earthquakes, floods, wars, persecutions, things of which our times have seen an overabundance. The Christian cannot keep the cross out of his life. Whether or not it will be a blessing for him depends upon the attitude which he takes towards it.

Jesus is our divine teacher and Model in all things and therefore most emphatically in so important a phase of the Christian life as is suffering. The Christian’s attitude must be that of Christ. Hence he must learn from Jesus to carry his cross with full submission to the will of our Heavenly Father and thus without complaining. The Father has prepared for His children the cup of suffering; it will be a chalice of salvation if drunk with the sentiments of the child, that trust in the Father as knowing best what is good for us. Let us carry the cross humbly not presuming on our strength, but seeking strength at the fountains of the Saviour, in His sacred wounds. The greater the tribulations the more insistent must be our prayer, “Passion of Christ, strengthen me.” But the most ideal and perfect attitude towards the cross is that of love. The lover of Christ will unite himself with the divine cross-bearer with the intention of bringing Him relief and rendering to Him services comparable to those of Simon and Veronica; he will make the intentions of Jesus his own and offer up his crosses for the same purposes for which Jesus suffered. Meditation on the sufferings of Christ inflamed the saints with love of the cross; it will do the same for us.

This mystery of the Rosary, then, if understood and practised, will stop the flight from the cross and bring the Christian to an ever-increasing sense of duty and loving submission to the will of God in all circumstances. It will convince us that the cross is the only way to atone for our sins and the sins of the world, to implore the grace of conversion for sinners. The cross is the only way to Christian perfection and heavenly glory. And our sorrowful Mother will rejoice to see her children assume more and more the likeness of her crucified Son.

THE CRUCIFIXION

The mystery of the crucifixion comprises the nailing to the cross, the three hours agony, and the death of Jesus. We are reminded of it by every crucifix, which has been called by saints a book of life, in which the faithful can and must read the way of life. Our Blessed Mother stood beneath the cross of her dying Son, she understands this mystery as no other mortal ever did. Uniting ourselves with her, let us look up to Him whom they have pierced and learn to love Him Who has loved us unto death.

When the sad procession with Jesus carrying the cross had arrived on Calvary, the soldiers at once proceeded to the execution. First, Jesus was offered a cup of wine mixed with some bitter substance. This was usually done by friends of the condemned or other charitable people in order to make the condemned less sensitive to the cruel pains of the crucifixion. But Jesus, having tasted the drink, did not take it; He wished to offer the sacrifice of His life fully conscious without any alleviation. Then Jesus was stripped and ordered to lie down on the cross and now the heavy blows of the hammer drive the nails through his Hands and Feet into the hard wood of the cross. At last the cross was raised and there Jesus was hanging between heaven and earth in indescribable agony.

Crucifixion was considered in ancient times the most painful manner of inflicting the death penalty and modern medical science concurs in this opinion. The wounds in the hands and feet must have burned like fire; then the distention of the joints and dislocation of the bones, the disturbance of the blood circulation, the strain upon the heart and lungs, the feverish condition brought about by the lacerations covering the whole body were such as to make the victim cry out in pain and agony. Frequently these sufferings caused the death of the victim within a few hours, but robust natures, especially if the scourging had not preceded, could live for one or two days or even longer.

To these pains which Jesus suffered in His body must be added the sufferings of His soul. He felt the injustice of the trials that had brought upon Him the condemnation, He was grieved by the hatred and hypocrisy of the Pharisees. How deeply He must have felt hurt by their cruel mockeries, “Vah, thou that destroyest the temple of God and in three days dost rebuild it, save Thy ownself. If Thou be the Son of God, save thyself. He has saved others, Himself He cannot save. If Thou be the Son of God, come down from the Cross.” And where are the crowds that only a week before had enthusiastically acclaimed Him as the Son of David, the King of Israel? Where are they, who on former occasions had admired the great Miracle Worker, the blind who had received their sight, the deaf who had been made to hear, the mute to whom He restored the use of speech, the paralysed who went away from Him in perfect health, where are they now? Where are those whom He had loved above all others and chosen for His intimate following? Peter who had protested that he would go with Jesus even unto death; Thomas who was ready to die with Him, and all the others, where are they? Not one of them except St. John is present to bear Him company in the most dreadful hours of His life. Yet the climax of His mental agony was the apparent abandonment by His Heavenly Father. God is the helper in every need; to Him the fathers cried and He heard them, but He seems deaf to the prayers of His beloved Son, who had sought nothing but the glory of the Father, had always done the things pleasing to Him. There is no abandonment more bitter than to feel abandoned by God; then it is as if the soul’s very substance were torn asunder, then the last stars in the firmament fade out, then night settles on the soul, dark and dreary night. Although God did not actually abandon His Son, He did let Him feel the effects of such an abandonment. This abandonment was the greatest suffering of Our Lord, so great that all anguish and sorrow that men ever experienced on earth, even if put together are like a drop of water compared to the endless ocean; it was that suffering that wrung from the lips of our dear Saviour the heartrending cry, “My God, My God, why hast Thou forsaken Me?” (Matt. 27, 46).

Amid such pain and agony death approaches. Death had entered into the world through the disobedience of the first Adam; it is now to be atoned for by the obedience unto death of the second Adam. With hands and feet nailed to the cross He can no longer work as He did at Nazareth, He can no longer walk about the land announcing the glad tidings of the Gospel; all He can do is to obey. But Hislife’s mission is consummated, the will of the Father accomplished, and so He commends His soul into the hands of the Father, bows His head and dies. And, behold, the earth trembles, the rock of Calvary is split asunder, the veil of the temple is rent in two, the dead arise from their graves, Nature, horror stricken, mourns over the crime committed. Yet out of this death new immortal life has sprung; Jesus died that men might live.

What the great Apostle said of Himself applies to every man throughout the world in the past, present, and future, He “loved me and delivered Himself for me.” (Gal. 2, 20). The love of Jesus sends forth its flaming light and warmth in the seven words He spoke on the cross. His enemies and executioners and in them all sinners, great and small, are the first beneficiaries of His love, “Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they do” (Luke 23, 34). This is the language of love that knows how to excuse and to find some mitigating circumstances even in the greatest sin. The Jews could and should have known what they were doing, but having closed their eyes to the light of grace they now do not know what they are doing. Yet their sin shall be forgiven, if they accept Jesus as their Saviour and repent. How they and all repenting sinners will be received by Jesus, if they trustfully turn to Him for mercy and forgiveness, is illustrated by the words of mercy He spoke to the repentant thief, “Amen I say to thee, this day thou shalt be with me in paradise.” (Luke 23, 43).

There is one treasure left in the possession of Jesus, dearer to Him than anything else on earth, His holy Mother. That she may be men’s refuge and hope and that through her we may find the way to Jesus, He leaves her to us: “Woman, behold thy son.”* Then He said to the disciple, “Behold thy Mother” (John 19, 27), If men have refused the invitations of His Love, it may be they will be more responsive to the love of a mother. No matter how much men may have offended Him and how unworthy they may be, He has died for alland He thirsts for their salvation, “I thirst” (John 19, 28). His bodily thirst is but the expression of His thirst for souls.

Thus did Jesus love us unto death; thus He atoned for all the hatred among men that has turned this earth into a valley of tears, into a vast battlefield. Thus He atoned for all selfishness, that thinks only of its own interest and forgets about the sufferings of the rest, for that cynical denial of guilt and responsibility that asks with Cain, “Am I my brother’s keeper?”; for all love of the world that seeks to drown its sorrow and pain in the vortex of earthly pleasures. Here Jesus paid the penalty for all fickleness and instability that refuses to finish the task assigned to us by God because it is too hard, for that spirit of hatred and revengefulness that cannot bring itself to forgive and to return good for evil. Here Jesus merits the grace of a happy death for all, provided we love Him and through Him commend the souls into the hands of our Heavenly Father.

For St. Paul the practical lesson drawn from the love of Jesus was, “With Christ I am nailed to the cross” (Gal. 2, 20), and, “To me to live is Christ and to die is gain” (Phil. 1, 21). As Jesus loved us unto death, so must we love Him unto death. Nothing can be too hard to endure for Him who has endured for us the unendurable. Love for Him must be love unto the death of our self-love and, if needs be, death unto the shedding of our blood.

Such love unto death is forgiving love that is extended even to our enemies, benevolent love that seeks the best of our fellow-men, generous love ready to give up what is most dear to us; resigned and patient love in the sufferings of body and soul, faithful and persevering love that is influenced neither by the promises and pleasures of the world, nor by its threats and persecutions. Such love burned in the heart of St. Paul when he wrote, “Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation or distress, or persecution or hunger or nakedness, or danger, or the sword?. . . . . . For, I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature will be able to separate us from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus Our Lord” (Rom. 8, 35–39).

Love unto death is the lesson which our Lady of Fatima wants us to learn from this mystery. Shall we be able to resist the appeal of love? “And I, if I be lifted up from the earth, will draw all things to myself” (John 12, 32). Let us allow ourselves to be drawn to Him by the bonds of love in and through the Immaculate Heart of our Blessed Mother standing beneath the cross.

Nihil Obstat:

JOSEPH P. NEWTH, C.C., Censor Deputat.

Imprimi Potest:

@ JOANNES CAROLUS. Archiep. Dublinen,

Hiberniae Primas.

Dublini die 16 mensis Martii, Anno 1955. ********

The Miracle of Fatima

FATHER J. J. GANNON, O.P

INDEX

CHAPTER ONE

The year 1917 was a sad one for the world. For three years man had been bitterly experiencing the folly of almost universal war. At first, as with all new experiences, its very novelty gave war a compensating glamour, and the thrill of excitement. But that soon wore off, leaving nothing but the weariness of life at home, ever waiting for news from the trenches, ever waiting for news of peace; and for those at the front, day-long and night-long struggle and fatigue, peril and death. No country in Europe was entirely unaffected by the war. Some countries were fortunate to keep out of it for some time, but eventually they too were caught up in its toils. One such was Portugal. She did not declare herself on the side of the Allies until 1917, and then, she too knew what it was to be a country at war. Lisbon, like the capitals of all the other warring nations had her share of excitement; soldiers going to or returning from the front, anxious to enjoy either their last days on their native soil, or else making the most of a short leave from the trenches.

Away up in the hill-country, far away from the big cities and all the excitement of modern life is the little village of Aljustrel. Even by moderate standards of comparison, the word village is almost too grandiose for this little group of houses. The people of this hamlet are simple hard-working children of the soil, whose livelihood is dependent on the seasons. So remote was it then (and even today, despite new roads and modern means of transport and communication), that life throughout the centuries changed but little for the people there. Sheep-raising and cultivating the crops for the men; weaving and housekeeping for the women- that was the daily round. There was very little to break the monotony except the weekly meeting of the neighbours and the usual gossip after Mass on Sunday, in their parish church in the village of Fatima about a mile away. True enough, from time to time, news of what was happening in the world outside would reach them. They were, for the most part, unable to read, so their knowledge of affairs national and international, depended on some chance visitor who might have picked up some of the Lisbon news. Then of course, the local Paroco, the parish priest, would be able to tell his little flock what was happening of importance to them. And what was happening in this year of grace 1917? They knew about the Great War. More than that, it touched the life of Aljustrel, since some of the local young men had been called to the colours. Amongst them was one Manuel dos Santos, only son of Antonio dos Santos and his wife Maria Rosa.

Lucia, the youngest of the seven children of Antonio and Maria Rosa was born on March 22nd, 1907. She made her First Communion at the age of six, unusually early for a Portuguese child. But she had the advantage of having a mother like Maria Rosa, who lost no time in fulfilling the primary duty of a mother, the instruction of her children in the love and knowledge of God. (In September, 1948, the saintly priest who gave her First Communion, Padre Cruz, S.J., died in Lisbon at the age of eighty-nine. He was regarded by all classes in Portugal, as a saint, and the formal process of his Cause for beatification has begun.) Her temperament was unusually gay. Her sister Mary of the Angels, who still lives in Aljustrel, tells how popular Lucia was with all the other children. In her they found a fund of natural gaiety and good spirits which automatically made her the leader in any of their games and dances. There is no need, nor is it right, to emphasise this fact. To do so is to give rise to the suspicion that sanctity and good cheer do not go together, and that when they do, it is a cause for wonder and something which has to be explained. Rather is it a cause for wonder if we find a saintly soul who is not filled with the joy of life. The saints alone know how to live properly. Sharing as they do, to such a large extent, in the goodness of God, they too can look out over the world and see that all things (in His plan) are good. It is only when man breaks away from this plan of God’s that evil enters in, and gloom.

When she was six years old, Lucia took up the duty of shepherdess. Even for a child of the Serra, this was an early start at a job which meant a long day out in the hills from dawn to dusk. But her family was poor, with little to spare for the support of idle ones, and besides, Lucia was a strong healthy girl. Up to that time her two constant companions were her cousins, Francisco and Jacinta Marto. It came as an unwelcome break to have Lucia away all day in the hills-a break which lasted two years until the young Martos had at last pestered their parents into giving them permission to take to the hills also. So all day long the three would be together. Little actual work was involved in the duties of sheep tending. They had to keep an eye on their flocks to prevent them from straying too far, and to bring them into shelter in bad weather. The rest of the time, they spent at their games, and saying prayers-not very many prayers, just a few from time to time. One prayer they never forgot to say and that was the Rosary. This is not surprising, when we remember how devoted this little corner of Portugal was to that particular prayer. But it must be admitted that the “rosary” said by the three was one that had as its outstanding quality, brevity. They knew nothing about “brevity being the soul of wit,” but they did know that they enjoyed their games, and so even their prayers were curtailed, that there might be more time for fun and frolics. They would very conscientiously recite the five decades, but only saying the first two words of the “Our Father” and the “Hail Mary.” How Mary must have smiled up in Heaven! She was soon to teach them how to say her own prayer properly, and by their example, the whole world.

Francisco Marto was born on June 11th 1908, and his sister Jacinta on March 11th, 1910. We have already said something about their parents. Francisco was a full-faced boy, handsome in the Latin manner. He was intelligent, and early in his short life gave evidence of being the possessor of a strong character. A natural nobility gave him a gentleness and tolerance of spirit which was amazing in one so young. He took his part in all the fun and games concocted by Lucia and theothers, but from what she tells us, his conduct was always marked by an “otherworldly” spirit. This does not mean that he showed early signs of sanctity, but it does mean that he was by nature unusually detached from the things of this world. Whether his thoughts were with God or not at that time is a secret. But again it shows us how God selects for high things one who is already fitted by nature for the task. He was a normal little boy in all things, at times good, at other times mischievous; at times well-behaved, at others, but not often, troublesome. But there were those definite flashes of the” out of this world” spirit which were definitely his.

Like her brother, Jacinta had in her features the promise of the Marto good looks. In character she was quite different from him. She had an extraordinarily sensitive soul- sensitive to the sufferings and feelings of others and especially for the Passion of Our Lord. But it was not only to sorrow and suffering that her soul went out. She had all the joy of a poet in the things of nature-the flowers, the animals, the changing moods of the weather. She joined heartily with her companions in all their merrymaking, especially in the dancing of which she was so fond. As Lucia says of herself and Jacinta, so much were they given to dancing that it was enough for them to hear the sound of music, even of a shepherd’s pipe, to set the pair of them on their feet. Again it is not to be wondered at when two healthy young Portuguese girls show all the love for dancing which is so characteristic of their people. It is merely to be noted as an indication of their personality. Such were the three children chosen to be the recipients of such singular favours from Heaven. Light-hearted children, full of the joys of life and attentive to their religious duties, they were to become as a result of the apparitions, filled with an insight into the things of God, rarely granted to ones so young, impassioned lovers of Mary, and ardent apostles of reparation for the outrages constantly offered to God by a sinful world.

CHAPTER TWO

The first sign that Heaven gave of the wonders that were to take place at Cova da Iria was in the year 1915, when Lucia was eight years old. At that age she was quite unable to tell the days of the week, nor had she any conception of time, so it is difficult to fix the exact time or date of this incident. All we know is that it must have taken place shortly after she began to go out to the hills with the sheep She herself says that it was about the middle of the year. One day she was on a hillside, called Cabeco, with three older girls, Maria Rosa Matias, Teresa Matias and Maria Justino. Towards midday, after their simple meal, they began to say the Rosary. Let Lucia tell us what happened:

“We noticed that at som e height above the groves that sloped down to the valley at our feet, there appeared something like a white cloud, whiter than snow and somewhat transparent, shaped like a human being” On the other occasions they saw the same thing. It would be rash to attribute any significance to these appearances in themselves. It is so easy for children, or adults for that matter, to imagine things, and we must be careful to have a reasonable approach to the happenings at Cova da Iria. Admittedly, if they were heavenly visions, it is difficult to see the reason for them. Of them Lucia says:”My impression on this occasion was something vague and passing and I believe that were it not for subsequent events, I would have forgotten it completely.”

It was one year later, m ore or less about springtime, that “ the first definite sign of what was to come took place. One fine morning, the children, Lucia, Francisco and Jacinta, set out with their flocks to a place called Couza Velha, a little to the west of Aljustrel, and at the foot of the hill we have already mentioned, the Cobeco. The sky was unclouded, but towards midday a slight drizzle began. Cautiously they began to take shelter. Up the side of the hill they went with their sheep, in search of some cave or overhanging crag. They were happy in their search, and in a cave they had never visited before, while the rain lasted, they stayed, eating their lunch and playing their games. As usual they began to say their Rosary, (their own curtailed version), and then resumed their games. They had not been playing very long, when suddenly a strange wind began to blow across the valley. It caused the trees to sway strangely, and all the time there was an eerie moaning sound in the air. Startled from their games by this, the children ran to the entrance of the cave to see what was happening. Far away from over the treetops in the direction of Nascente they saw a light “whiter than snow, transparent, and in the form of a young man.” It was “more brilliant than crystal through which the sun’s rays are shining” as Lucia describes it. With bated breath and with a certain amount of apprehension they watched this figure as it approached across the valley. As it came nearer they began to distinguish the outline more clearly. It seemed to be that of a beautiful young man in his “teens. When he had come to within a short distance of the children, he spoke: “Do not be afraid. I am the Angel of Peace. Pray with me.” Then he knelt down on the ground and touched it with his forehead. Moved by some supernatural instinct, the three children did as they were bidden, and imitated him, repeating the words he said: “My God, I believe, adore, hope in and love you. I beg pardon of you for those who do not believe, adore hope in or love you.” These words, he and the children said three times, and then he arose saying: “Pray like this. The hearts of Jesus and Mary are attentive to your requests.” Then he disappeared. That was all. So intense was the supernatural impression invoked by this apparition that the children remained rapt in ecstasy for quite a long time. They repeated many times the prayer of the angel. They felt the presence of God so strongly that they did not speak of it even amongst themselves. Many wonder why the children, especially Lucia in her later years, kept the fact of this appearance to themselves for so long. Lucia’s explanation is this. The angel of the apparition had made no mention of secrecy, but so intimate was it, and so charged with supernatural significance, that it was not easy for them to speak of it, even in the smallest detail.

The effect of this manifestation of Heaven’s future dealings with the three children lasted some days. But they were still children and they were soon back at their normal lighthearted way of life. If they thought of it at all, it was only to dismiss it as something which could not be explained. Children of course, are never very surprised, no matter what happens. They live in a world where fairies and spirits of all sorts are liable to show up at any moment. When they do come, they may cause a feeling of fear, or possibly joy and gladness. But their occurrence is something quite logical to the child mind, something to be experienced for a time and then to be forgotten. So the year passed on and brought to the Serra the brilliant splendour of a Portuguese summer. Up there in the exposed hill-country, the summer heat can be very intense. But the children were used to it and enjoyed the longer days for sport and play. Yet despite the fact that they were so acclimatized there was one day in the summer of 1910 when it was so terribly hot that they had to return from the hills with the sheep and put them in the sheds. They themselves went playing in the cool garden behind the dos Santos house near a well. This time there was no warning wind, no moaning in the air, to tell them that they were again to be visited by one of God’s messengers. Looking up suddenly, they saw standing beside them at the parapet of the well the same youth- like figure, they had seen earlierin the year at the Cabeco. He spoke to them again: “What are you doing? Pray. Pray much. The hearts of Jesus and Mary have merciful intentions for you. Offer constantly to the Most High, prayers and sacrifices.” At this point, Lucia asked a question for herself. The fact that she did so shows us that she was becoming accustomed to the supernatural atmosphere brought by the heavenly visitations. God, in accordance with the principal of grace always working through nature, was systematically preparing her faculties for the greater things which were to come. “How are we to make sacrifice?” she asked.

“By everything possible to you,” was the reply. “Offer a sacrifice to the Lord, as an act of reparation for the sins by which He is offended and as a prayer for the conversion of sinners. In this way you will bring peace to our country. I am its Guardian Angel, the Angel of Portugal. Above all, accept and bear with submission the suffering which the Lord will send to you.” With these words he disappeared. As later in the vision of Mary herself, Francisco, although he saw the angel, heard nothing of the conversation. Later when Lucia told him what the angel had said, the importance of the message seemed to grip his imagination. She tells us that from that moment a deep change came over their lives. They now knew what the love of God really meant, and how the sins of the world frustrate in so many cases, this love. They realized too, the meaning and value of sacrifice, and in their own little way they began to practise the penance advised by the angel. Daily they sought opportunities of mortification, and prostrate on the earth, frequently repeated the prayer they had learned.

Summer passed into autumn, the season of mellow fruitfulness, without the mists, when in Portugal, the grape ripens and the new wine flows freely. Once again the children found themselves playing in the cave on the Cabeco, which held such wonderful and pleasant memories for them. It must have been about the middle of September or the beginning of October. They had stopped their play and were saying the Rosary with the prayer they had learned from the angel on his first appearance to them. Once again they became aware of something unusual in the atmosphere; that indescribable brightness, that eerie moaning followed by an uncanny hush, just as before. Then the angel came for the third and last time. He told them to make reparation for the sins of men and” console your God.” He prostrated to the ground, and then disappeared. As before, the children experienced a strange reluctance to speak. Darkness was beginning to fall, and having repeated the prayer of the angel three times prostrate on the ground, they left for home. Lucia’s later reflections on the visits of the angel and their own reactions are very interesting. “I cannot say why,” she tells, “but the apparitions of Our Lady produced a different effect. There was the same inward joy, the same feeling of peace and happiness. But instead of a feeling of, as it were, physical deflation, there was a certain sense of uplift or expansion; instead of that difficulty and hesitance about speaking of what had happened there was the urge to communicate it to others. Yet despite feelings, I felt inspired to be silent.”

CHAPTER THREE

It was the Sunday before the Feast of the Ascension, May 13th 1917. The three children went to an early Mass in the parish church of Fatima, and towards noon they set out for the hills with their flocks. This morning they chose to graze them in some land belonging to the dos Santos family at Cova da Iria, about two miles from Aljustrel. The usual programme was followed. Coming towards noon, they had their meal, followed by prayer, and then they looked about for something to pass the time. Afavourite game of theirs, was to build a “house,” and of that they never grew weary. As usual it was Francisco who was the master-builder. While so occupied, they were startled by a brilliant flash in the sky which they afterwards described as being like a flash of unusually bright lightning. They looked at one another anxiously, knowing that lightning is always the forerunner of those violent thunderstorms of the hill-country. They were nervous, not for themselves only, but also for their sheep. Well they knew what a loss even one animal would be to their poor parents. They scanned the sky, but it was clear of the thunderclouds. The sun still shone from that cloudless indescribable blue of the sky over Portugal in Maytime. After that first brilliant flash all was calm, with that strange time-banishing calmness which they had come to know so well. Nevertheless they were keenly aware of their responsibilities and were taking no chances with the safety of their flocks. “Let’s go home,” said Lucia. “There may be a thunderstorm on its way.” Just as they were about to follow her advice, there was another flash even more dazzling and intense than the first. They stopped in their path. Slowly they advanced towards a small holm-oak, or to give it its Portuguese name, an “azinheira tree.” which stood on their right. There standing on top of it they saw a “beautiful lady clothed in white, more brilliant than the sun, surrounded by a light more intense and clearer than a tumbler of crystal-clear water through which the rays of the sun are shining” (Lucia). In their astonishment, they stopped short. Then with a wonderful, fascinating sweetness and sympathy in her voice, the Lady spoke. “Do not be afraid. I will not harm you.” As if disappointed, or amused at the idea of any of her children being frightened by her, she smiled a little sadly. Lucia quickly recovered herself and began to speak with the Lady. Naturally she first of all had to satisfy her quite understandable curiosity about the strange and lovely lady. “Where do you come from” she asked.

The Lady answered: “I am from Heaven.”

“And what do you want from me?”

“I have come to ask you to come here on the thirteenth day of each month, at this same hour, for six months in succession. Then I will tell you who I am and what I want. And I will come back here a seventh time.”

Lucia made good the opportunity by asking if she and the other children would go to Heaven. The answer was yes, but that Francisco would have to say many Rosaries. She asked about two of her friends who had died some time before. “Maria das Neves,” said the Lady, “was in Heaven, but Amalia would be in Purgatory until the end of the world.” Many people have been troubled at this, but it must be remembered that Amalia was a young woman of eighteen. As Lucia herself said later when questioned on this point she did not think it very remarkable, since one could go to Hell for all eternity for missing Mass on Sunday. Having listened to and answered patiently, Lucia’s questions, the Lady now spoke to her at length again.

“Do you wish to offer yourselves to God, to endure all the suffering that He may please to send you, as an act of reparation for the sins by which He is offended, and to ask for the conversion of sinners? In the name of all three Lucia replied: “Yes, we do.” “ Then,” said the Lady, “you will have much to suffer. But the grace of God will be your comfort.” Lucia tells us that as she said these words, the Lady opened her hands, and from them came two streams of light, so brilliant and piercingthat it seemed to penetrate the depths of their souls, and “to make them see themselves as God saw them.” Moved by an irresistible impulse they fell on their knees and repeated the prayer:

“Most Holy Trinity, I adore You. My God, my God, I love You in the Blessed Sacrament.” For some time they stayed like this and then the Lady spoke again. “Say the Rosary every day, to obtain peace for the world, and the end of the war.” And so ended this first conversation between the Queen of Heaven and Lucia. Slowly and serenely she began to ascend towards the east, until she disappeared in space. (It is of interest to note, with some writers on Fatima, that on that same day, May 13th, 1917, the late Pope, Pius XII, was being consecrated bishop in the Sistine Chapel in Rome).

The children stayed a little longer, enchanted by the wonderful thing that had happened. But on returning to face the ordinary workaday world again, their first thought was one of consternation. What had happened to the sheep while they were having heavenly visions? It is quite in order to speak with a beautiful lady from on high, but that excuse would not serve if some of their flock were lost. But they need not have worried. The sheep were grazing contentedly where they had left them. The rest of that day of days, they spent going over again and again the details of the Lady’s visit. Jacinta was especially enraptured by her beauty, Lucia’s imagination was more captured by the need for penance stressed by the Lady. She it was who warned the others not to tell anyone of what had happened. What prompted her to do this? She probably knew full well what kind of reception their story would get in the village.

And what of Francisco? Poor Francisco. Just as in the case of the angelic apparition, he had seen, but had not heard anything of what had been said by the Lady. On the way back to Aljustrel, he was unusually silent, and the two girls were too occupied with their own thoughts to make much conversation.

Alas for promises! Jacinta had promised fervently that she would tell nobody about what had happened, but her tongue proved looser than she thought. The poor child was not to be blamed if she found her heart almost bursting with eagerness to tell of the great joy which was hers. When her father and mother returned from Batalha where they had been marketing, they were met by Jacinta, a veritable volcano of suppressed excitement, waiting to erupt with the wonderful news she had to tell. She gasped out that she had seen Our Lady at Cova da Iria. As one would expect, her mother did not take her very seriously at first, considering it just the babble of a child. But faced by her daughter’s obviously sincerity and excitement she had her and Francisco tell the story to the whole family after the evening meal. It got a mixed reception. Some were frankly sceptical, and scornfully sarcastic at the idea of Our Lady appearing to three little children. But on the whole it was received better than might have been expected. Their father, especially, if not quite prepared to give his full assent to Jacinta’s story, at least believed that something extraordinary had been seen. This, he said, could easily have been a vision of heavenly origin. One thing he knew for certain, his own children and Lucia were not in the habit of telling lies, and they had not the imagination to invent such a tale as they had told.

On the following day, Olimpia was not able to keep the tale told her by the children to herself. Nor did she want to. There never was much in the way of news in Aljustrel. The war of course, as always and in all places, cities and villages, had provided a fruitful topic, but even that palled. She did not, as might have been expected, go straight to Lucia’s mother to find out if she had heard anything of the vision from her daughter. Instead, so great was her excitement, that she unhesitatingly told the neighbours all about it. The strange story spread quickly in the small village, and soon it came to the ears of Maria Rosa, Lucia’s mother. She rushed to her daughter immediately and demanded an explanation. Lucia’s reaction to the news that poor little Jacinta had proved faithless to her promise was naturally one of disappointment. But faced with an angry mother she had not time for indulging in feelings of disappointment. She repeated her account of what she had seen and heard and could not be shaken. Maria de Rosa, coaxed and threatened, but all she could get from Lucia was that they had seen a Lady at the Cova, but she was not sure who it was as the Lady had not identified herself.

It was a sad little party that set out with their flocks that afternoon. Lucia was feeling depressed at the upset to the peace of her own family, and her mother’s incredulity. Jacinta, feeling remorse, was keeping silent, afraid or reluctant to speak. Francisco, although blameless for his sister’s indiscretion, could not help feeling the gloom in the air, and was sad. When they reached the Cova they felt too dejected to play their usual games. Truth to tell, their thoughts were filled with the idea of sacrifice that the Lady had put before them. They said the Rosary-this time the complete Rosary, and as their first act of sacrifice, gave the little food they had with them for lunch to the sheep. Later on they improved on this by giving it instead to some little beggar-children. From that day forward they began to practise little acts of mortification every day. Apart from these voluntary mortifications they had ample opportunity of practising the greater mortification of the will, by bearing patiently with the criticisms and ridicule of others. Daily they had to face the anger and distrust of their parents, Manuel Marto excepted. The neighbours taunted and ridiculed them, seeing in the whole affair, just an opportunity of having a bit of fun atthe expense of the children. Lucia’s mother especially, caused her to suffer much. She had done her best against difficult odds to bring her girl up as a good Catholic and to teach her a love of the truth. Now she was regarded by neighbours as a silly little liar, who made liars out of her cousins too. All day long she nagged Lucia. But Lucia bore it all in patient silence. Even when Maria Rosa’s vexation drove her to threaten a beating unless she admitted that she had been telling lies, Lucia had nothing more to say than what she had already told. But she was suffering terribly. It was only out in the hills with her cousins that she could relieve her suppressed feelings with tears.

At length, her mother saw that she was up against something that was too much for her, and that she would have to get help. So one morning, she set out for the parish priest’s house, taking Lucia with her. On the way she told her daughter that she must kneel before him and confess that she was a liar. That, she thought, should put an end to the business once and for all. But the visit was a failure. And how could it be otherwise? The priest, Fr. Manuel Marques Ferreira, heard Lucia’s account of what had happened at the Cova, and sent her home with the advice that she should be discreet and patient. In Portugal the advice offered in all situations is “paciencia.” But it was difficult for the children to bear patiently with the taunts and jeers which were constantly being hurled at them. The villagers had at first found some amusement in the affair of the children and the Lady of the Cova, but now some of them were openly insulting to them and their parents. It was the beginning of the suffering which the Lady had foretold for them.

CHAPTER FOUR

The 13th of June was the Feast of St. Anthony of Padua, who was born in Lisbon. It is a great day in Portugal. Notwithstanding the wonderful celebrations of Fatima, the children set out for the Cova after an early Mass. Some fifty people accompanied them. On arrival, they all began to say the Rosary. It was coming towards noon, and the people began to feel impatient.” When is this Lady of yours going to come? “ they asked. They were soon to be answered.

Suddenly Lucia cried out, “Jacinta! Here comes the Lady. There is the light now.” The children ran up to the azinheira tree and the people followed them. They knelt down and Lucia began to speak. They heard her say, “You told me to come here. Please tell me what it is you want.” From Lucia herself we know what the Lady answered: “I want you to come here on the 13th of each month, and to say the rosary; between the mysteries you must say: 0 my Jesus pardon us, save us from the fires of Hell; take all souls to Heaven, especially those in most need.” The Lady continued:”I also want you to learn to read and later I will tell you what else I want.”

The Lady then told Lucia that Francisco and Jacinta would very soon go to Heaven but that Jesus wanted her to stay and help to establish in the world devotion to the Immaculate Heart of Mary. With these words she opened her hands, and from them came a light which enveloped the three children. In one part of the light “that went up to Heaven” were Francisco and Jacinta; and in the other “which spread itself over the ground” was Lucia. “Before the palm of her right hand was a heart encircled with thorns that pierced it. We understood It was the Immaculate Heart of Mary, outraged by the sins of mankind and desiring reparation.” Our Lady told her so. “ See, child, My Heart, encircled with thorns, the blasphemies and ingratitude of men, which continually pierce me. You at least, must console me, and make it known that at the hour of death, I will assist with the grace necessary for their salvation, all those who, as an act of reparation, on the first Saturday of five successive months, confess, receive Holy Communion, say a Rosary, and spend a quarter of an hour with me, meditating on the fifteen Mysteries of the Rosary.” Then Lucia arose from her knees, crying out: “Look. She is going away.” All present looked in the direction in which she was pointing, but of course, it was only the children who saw Our Lady. But even the others saw what looked like a small white cloud rising, from the tree and floating eastwards. They also noticed that the leaves were bent and pointing towards the east, as if they had been pressed down by some weight. They all began to say the Litany of Our Lady and returned to the village reciting the Rosary on the way. And so began the Fatima pilgrimages. With the beginning of a cult to Our Lady of Fatima, there began also the real suffering of the children. Scepticism is hard to kill, and when the sceptic is confronted with evidence, he frequently resorts to abuse, cheap sarcasm and invective. There were some people who questioned the children with a genuine desire to know what had happened. There were others whose only object was to make fun of them and their story. To the mockers, their only reply was silence. To the others all they said was that daily recitation of the Rosary was necessary, and that the Lady would return on the 13th of each month and that in October she would reveal her identity. If questioned any further they would refer to certain things that were Secret. This is the first mention of the famous secrets of Fatima. But more of this later. During all the events of June 13th, Maria Rosa preserved an unwonted calm. She still thought her daughter was a liar, and the thought that some people were prepared to believe her only annoyed her all the more. The parish priest had said that the children were to be let go to the Cova on the 13th and then brought back to him for interrogation. At this stage his attitude to the affair was neither sceptical nor credulous. He tried to preserve an open mind. Time alone would tell whether the apparitions were genuine or not. In the meantime he was in duty bound to make investigations.

Poor Lucia was frightened at the prospect of an interview with the priest. Her own family did not do much to comfort her but delighted in painting a picture for her of what was going to happen. On the following day, accompanied by Maria Rosa, the children went to Fatima to see Father Marques Ferreira. Nothing very much came of the interview. They told the same story that they had told so often already. Eventually after much interrogation all that was left for priest, was to warn them that the apparitions might be the work of the devil. On this unsatisfactory and ominous note the much-dreaded interview ended. But the last words rankledin Lucia’s mind. She had never thought of that possibility. Since Jacinta had blurted out the news of the apparitions, she had suffered much mental agony, but this was worse than anything else. She could not help but realise that she was merely a poor ignorant child and the priest was a sincere man and one learned and experienced in the ways of God with souls. The poor child was tortured by the thought that she might be the plaything of the devil, and that through her others might be led astray. She also had to contend constantly with the opposition of her family. Her mother expressed this not only in words but also in beatings. She regarded her daughter as if she were a changeling child left by the devil in a God-fearing family. The only comforters she had at this time were Francisco and Jacinta. They refused to accept the possibility that their lovely Lady could be from the devil. As Jacinta said: “The devil is ugly and lives underground and the Lady was lovely. Besides we saw her go up to Heaven.” Still, Lucia was troubled. The poison of doubt had set in, and had begun to destroy the grand enthusiasm she had known. She felt a kind of apathy for the whole affair that was bringing so much worry and unhappiness to all of them. It would be so easy to say that the whole story was a concoction and then everything would be pleasant again. She said as much to her cousins. They were horrified, and pointed out to her that in no circumstances and for no reason could she tell a lie. This was the advice that Lucia wanted and needed. It restored her confidence in the Lady of the Cova, even though the devil still tortured her with temptations to doubt.

CHAPTER FIVE

The 13th of July approached. Francisco and Jacinta were filled with a wonderful anticipation of another visit from the Lady. But Lucia, remembering the warning of the parish priest, was still troubled, so much so that she decided not to go to the Cova. On the night of the 12th as literally thousands of people were pouring into the Cova, she went to the Marto’s house to tell her cousins of her decision. They were disappointed and upset, but not sharing Lucia’s tortured mind they said that nothing would stop them from being there on the following day. Sadly the girl returned to her own house. But she was not reckoning with Providence. The following morning, despite her decision, she was compelled by a strange force to set out for the Marto’s house. There she found the others, sad and dejected at the thought of having to go to the Cova without her. But now she was with them again, and all three set out to keep their appointment with the Lady of the Cova.

As they drew near, they had to push their way through a dense crowd of people from all over the Serra. Their parents were also present. They had come not merely out of curiosity. They had a real and understandable fear, that if nothing happened to justify the excitement their children might be in need—of protection from an angry and disappointed mob.

Led by the children they all said the Rosary. Just as it ended, there came the flash of light, which they knew by now heralded the coming of the Lady. When she appeared, Lucia felt a sudden reluctance to speak. Perhaps she was somewhat ashamed of the doubts which had troubled her since their last meeting. It was only when Jacinta prompted her that she asked the Lady what she desired. Again the daily recitation of the Rosary was asked, “to obtain peace for the world,” and she promised that in October she would tell them her name and work a miracle “so that all might see and believe.” Feeling much happier and more at her ease now, Lucia asked for the cure of some sick people. The Lady listened to her and said that some of her requests would be granted. Then she said:” Offer sacrifices for sinners and say frequently, especially when making some sacrifice:

0 Jesus, it is for love of Thee, for the conversion of sinners, and in reparation for the sins committed against the

Immacu late Heart of Mary.” Let Lucia herself tell what followed.

“As she said these words she opened her hands, as she had done at the other apparitions. The light from them seemed to penetrate through the ground and we saw a sea of fire in which devils and souls were wallowing. The souls were like burning coals, dark or bronzed, with human shape, and they rose and fell in the fire, moved by the flames that came out from themselves, with a lot of smoke, like the sparks of some huge fire. There were shrieks of pain and groans of despair that horrified us and made us tremble with fright. The devils had the horrible forms of strange and terrible beasts, but they were transparent, and glowed like red-hot coals. Had not Our Lady promised that we should go to Heaven, we should have died of fright.”

This terrible vision, the Lady told them was Hell, and that God wished the devotion to the Immaculate Heart to be established in order to save souls from damnation. “The war will end,” she continued, “but if people continue to offend

God, another and worse one will begin. When you see the night illuminated by a strange light, you will know it to be the sign that God is about to punish the world, by means of war, hunger, and the persecution of the Church and the Holy

Father. To prevent this; I shall come and ask for the consecration of Russia to My Immaculate Heart and the Communion of Reparation of the first Saturday of the month. If my request is granted, Russia will be converted and there will be peace; if not she will spread her errors throughout the world, causing wars and persecution of the Church; the good will suffer martyrdom; the Holy Father will have much to suffer, and various nations will be wiped out. In Portugal the faith will never die. Do not speak of this to anyone except Francisco.”

Having said this, the Lady disappeared heavenward. 1mmediately the people began to press in upon the children and to overwhelm them with questions. They all noticed how sad Lucia especially seemed. To all their questions the only answer was that the Lady had told them a secret, “good for some but bad for others.” Just before the twenty- fifth anniversary of the apparitions, Lucia made a written statement about the secret, “out of pure obedience and with the permission of Our Lord.” She says: “The secret consisted of three things, distinct yet closely related. I shall reveal two of them, but the third must remain wrapped in mystery.” She then goes on to tell of the vision of Hell and the prophecy of the Second World War. The third part of the secret, was written down by her, enclosed in a sealed envelope and entrusted to the Bishop of Leiria.

CHAPTER SIX

Peace and confidence had again returned to Lucia with the coming of the Lady in July. She knew now that all was well and she had the strength to face the trials that lay ahead of her.

The thousands who had been to the Cova, soon spread far and wide the news of what had happened. Every day visitors came to Aljustrel to speak with the children and find out for themselves all about the secret. Some, the poor and the sick, came out of genuine devotion and in hope of a cure. They flocked to the Cova, and in their unthinking eagerness to pray at the place of the apparitions, soon made a barren waste of what had once been a fine pasture. This was not good for the children, and especially Lucia, whose family owned the field. They reproached her with being an idle dreamer, who had now reached the age when she should be working, and instead she was wasting a great part of the day speaking with visitors. Her cousins fared better. Their father Manuel Marto, right from the beginning, had shown an attitude by no means unfavourable, and was by now a stronger believer in the truth of what the children had told him. The parish priest, Father Marques Ferreira, was still silent. He had received instructions from his Archbishop, the Cardinal Patriarch of Lisbon, not to countenance the apparitions, nor on the other hand was he openly to disapprove of them. We can imagine his feelings. It is so easy to counsel prudent reserve when miles away from the scene of the events. But for the parish priest, the centre of life in the village, the leader of the people, the authority on all things spiritual and theological, it was no easy matter to keep a balanced outlook. Yet such instructions were very necessary. The anti-clerical papers of Portugal, of which there were many, openly accused the Church of engineering the whole affair at the Cova. Like Zola in his mad hatred of Lourdes they distorted the facts and invented all sorts of details to make the story told by the children seem ridiculous or fraudulent. Actually, the fact was, that any of the clergy who showed an interest, were inclined to be sceptical. Their apparent indifference is easily understood, when we remember that they were living under an actively hostile government, with the memory of a revolution still fresh in their minds.

Under this government, jobbery and all the petty graft that goes with it flourished throughout the country; sinecures for men whose background and ability fitted them only for posts of the smallest importance. Such a one was Arthur de Oliveira dos Santos, Administrator of the district of Vila Nova do Ourem, to which Fatima belonged. He was a man of little education or culture, but his fanatical zeal for the cause of the Republic made him a very valuable party-man. Through the help of his Masonic brethren he became a power. He was a symbol for the whole district, of the new era of “enlightenment” and free thought, which has been born in so bloody and sacrilegious a manner. It is easy to see what a shock he received when the news of the apparitions at the Cova reached him. God’s Mother appearing in his district! Miraculous cures! Revival of religion through the Rosary All this nonsense would have to be stopped immediately before his masters down in Lisbon began to question his loyalty or his ability. He knew that revolutionary governments have a summary method of dealing with failures and incompetents.

He summoned the parents and ordered them to bring the children to his office at Vila Nova do Ourem on August 11th. Lucia’s father being of a timid nature saw nothing for it but to obey. Manuel Marto was made of sterner stuff, and refused to bring his two young children on such a journey and to such a place as the republican Administration Centre. Instead he went along himself. The Administrator rebuked him sharply for failing to comply with the order and turned his attention to Lucia. She answered all his questions as she already had done to so many others, with simplicity and frankness. But about the Secret she was silent. He asked her father what did he and the elders of Aljustrel think of the affair. Poor Antonio was always easily cowed and now he quickly replied that not only did he not believe the story himself but that generally it was thought to be merely a fairytale. But such was not Manuel Marto’s answer. Fearless, and loyal to his children as ever, he spoke out and proclaimed his own personal belief in the account they had given. The Administrator saw that no headway was to be made by continuing the interview. He contented himself with the threat of punishment and possible death to Lucia if she did not tell the Secret, and so dismissed the group.

Meanwhile, news of the wonders that were happening at Cova da Iria spread rapidly throughout the country. When August 13th dawned there were, according to a report of the time at least eighteen thousand people assembled. They had gathered from early morning and had whiled away the time by saying rosaries and singing hymns. Noon came, but not the children. They had been kidnapped by the Administrator of Vila Nova do Ourem. When the people heard the news of this outrage there was an outburst of indignation, and such was their temper that it would have fared ill for the authorities but for the intervention of Providence. Suddenly the crowd heard a tremendous clap of thunder. A dazzling flash lit up the clear blue sky. Over the tree of the apparitions hovered for about ten minutes a small, white cloud. During this time, to quote one present,”Our faces were reflecting all the colours of the rainbow . . . the trees seemed made not of leaves but of flowers. The ground and our clothes seemed saturated in colour and the lanterns on the arch in front of the tree seemed like gold.” Satisfied that something supernatural had happened in their presence the crowd dispersed, still shouting threats against the Government officials.

And what of the three children? They were taken to the Centre of Administration at Vila Nova do Ourem, and there for two days and two nights were put through a “third degree “of questioning, which, considering their ages and their simple condition, must have been terrifying. They were interrogated together. They were interrogated separately. They were threatened with death by being boiled in oil. They were made spend the nights in the ordinary town-gaol, with criminals. But nothing could make them deny the truth of their story, or promise not to visit the Cova again. Seeing that nothing could persuade them, and by now frightened by the threatening attitude of the people, the Administrator sent them back to Aljustrel. It was Sunday, August 15th, the Feast of the Assumption.

As soon as they were free the children ran off to the Cova and said a Rosary in thanksgiving for their deliverance. They knew that it was due to no fault of theirs that they had failed to keep the appointment there for the 13th, and they wondered what Heaven’s next move would be. They had not long to wait. On the following Thursday, August 19th, they were out with their flocks at a place known as Vahinhos, on the slope of the hill. This time, Jacinta was not with them, as her mother wanted her at home for some reason. Her elder brother Joao was there instead. At about four o’clock there came the now familiar flash in the sky. Lucia sensing that something was about to happen, sent Joao home to call Jacinta. Just as she arrived, breathless and excited, the Lady appeared above a tree. The opening of the conversation followed the usual pattern, with the injunction that the Rosary was to be said daily. Then the Lady repeated her promise to work a great miracle in October and to tell her name. The miracle, she said would have been much greater but for the action of the authorities in kidnapping the children. “St. Joseph and the Child Jesus will appear, to give peace to the world. Our Lord will come to bless the people. Our Lady of the Rosary and Our Lady of Sorrows will also be seen” . . .”Pray, pray much, and make sacrifices for sinners, for many souls go to Hell because they have no one to make sacrifices and pray for them.” Then the Lady disappeared.

CHAPTER SEVEN

It would be too much to expect that the civil authorities would have acknowledged themselves beaten so soon. Excellentissimo Senhor, Arthur de Oliveria dos Santos, Administrator of the District of Vila Nova do Ourem, was hurt in his pride, and was being laughed at by his fellow-Masons. Something would have to be done, and done quickly. He published an offensively blasphemous leaflet inviting all lovers of Free thought and Progress to meet outside the church in Fatima after Mass on Sunday. The people, warned by their priest, attended Mass at another church that morning and the disappointed Freethinkers set out for the Cova. And what a reception they got there! The people had collected a number of loud-braying donkeys to greet them, and had provided for their refreshment loads of hay and straw. From a safe vantagepoint the good people of the Serra jeered at these discomfited rationalists and shouted down with prayers, their obscenities and blasphemies. Nothing could be done, so the forces of”Law and Order” had to retire, probably reflecting philosophically that at any rate “a policeman’s lot is not a happy one.”

When September 13th came, all the roads, such as they were, leading to Fatima were alive with the crowds of people, from all over the uplands, and from all parts of Portugal. Towards noon, the children arrived, made their way with difficulty to the azinheira-tree and waited, kneeling, for the Lady. She came, heralded by the usual flash of light and loud clap of thunder. On this occasion she repeated her demand for the daily Rosary, granted some requests that Lucia made to her, promised again the October miracle and revelation, and then disappeared. As usual, Lucia, Francisco and Jacinta, were the centre of eager questioners. To many they gave just the merest outline, but one questioner was a priest, Dr. Manuel Nunes Formigao, a professor of theology at the Lisbon seminary. To his shrewd interrogations and sympathetic and careful consideration of their replies, the many historians of the apparitions at Cova de Iria, owe much.

It is difficult after so many years to recapture the excitement which surrounded the little village of Aljustrel in those late summer days of 1917. Feeling ran high amongst those who believed the children and the sceptics. It was a situation dear to the Latin heart, and found expression in exaggerated gestures. The Masons and anti-clericals wrote bitterly abusive articles in their many dailies and weeklies. They organised mock-religious processions, with obscene and blasphemous representations of Christ and His Blessed Mother, in the neighbourhood of Fatima. As a matter of fact, they over-reached themselves and only succeeded in bringing attention to focus on the apparitions and gaining for them a nation-wide publicity. They even served in this way to bring about something in the nature of a cult of Our Lady of Fatima, amongst good Catholics who wanted to make reparation for the terrible things said and done.

So when October 13th came it was no surprise to find Cova de Iria and its neighbourhood thronged with people from all over Portugal. A conservative estimate places the number present at nearly seventy thousand. Seeing this vast multitude, poor Maria Rosa’s doubts and fears became aggravated. She had long ago given up the idea of getting her daughter to abandon the story of the Lady of the Cova, Now her fear was that if nothing happened at noon on the 13th her daughter’s life would be in danger. This may seem an exaggerated fear, but feeling runs high and quickly amongst the Latins. Already rumours had been circulated of a plot to beat the children, if not worse, if the Lady failed to appear. So fearful was she of the possible danger from a disappointed mob, that on the morning of the 13th, she told Lucia that they should all make their peace with God in confession as they might be killed at the Cova. Despite her feelings on the matter, she was determined to accompany her daughter and die with her if necessary.

With great difficulty the children with their parents reached the Cova, owing to the tightly packed crowds of people. A few minutes after noon, by which time many of those present had decided that nothing was going to happen and were givingvoice to their anger, the announcing flash came. At Lucia’s call the multitude knelt down, and all eyes were fixed on the three children as they gazed on what they alone could see. The Lady had come as promised. This time she said very little. “I am Our Lady of the Rosary and I desire a chapel to be built here in my honour. Continue to say the Rosary daily. The war will end and the soldiers will return to their homes.” As usual she told Lucia that some of the petitions she had presented would be granted. Finally she said: “Men must correct their faults and ask pardon for their sins. They must no longer offend God, Who is already too much offended.” And when Lucia asked if she wanted anything else of her: “I want nothing more.” So ended the message of Our Lady-devotion to the Rosary and amendment of life.

Our Lady of the Rosary of Fatima opened Her hands in her familiar gracious gesture. It appeared to Lucia that there came from them a light brighter than sunlight which went straight up to the sky, and in this radiance, Our Lady disappeared.

Just at this moment, the crowd heard Lucia cry out, “Look at the sun.” Lucia has no recollection of saying this because she was in ecstasy at the new vision she was seeing. As Our Lady disappeared there appeared high in the sky, three tableaux. But let Lucia tell what she and the other two children saw. “I saw St. Joseph and the Infant Jesus beside Our Lady. Then I saw Our Lord blessing the crowd. Next Our Lady showed herself, dressed like Our Lady of the Seven Sorrows, but without the sword in her heart. Finally, I saw her dressed in another way; I do not know how to say it, but I think it was like Our Lady of Mount Carmel. She was dressed in white with a blue mantle.” This much was seen by Lucia alone. All three children saw the vision of the Holy Family, with the Child making the Sign of the Cross three times over the people. Again to quote Lucia,” The Child was in the arms of St. Joseph. He was quite small, about a year old. They were both dressed in clear red.”

Nothing of all this was seen by the crowd. But what they did see, was the miracle foretold by Mary. In a report to the leading daily, 0 Seculo, a Freemason and rabid anticlerical who was present at the Cova on October 13th writes of a “spectacle unique and incredible if one had not been a witness to it . . . One can see the immense crowd turn toward the sun, which reveals itself free of the clouds in full noon. The great star of day makes one think of a silver plaque, and it is possible to look straight at it without the least discomfort. It does not burn, it does not blind . . . But now burst forth a colossal clamour, and we hear the nearest spectators crying

Miracle, miracle, Marvel, marvel!” Before the astonished eyes of the people . . . the sun has trembled and makes abrupt movements, unprecedented and outside all cosmic laws-it dances, according to the expression of the peasants . . . It remains for those competent to pronounce on the danse macabre of the sun, which to-day, at Fatima, has made hosannas burst from the breasts of the faithful, and naturally has impressed even freethinkers and others not at all interested in religious matters.” So writes a hostile witness, who had come to Cova in order to undermine the story of the apparitions. Three times, the sun went through these extraordinary gyrations, like some huge Catherine wheel, each time for about five minutes. Finally it seemed to leave its place in the heavens and rush down towards the people. Many thought their end was near and began to scream out acts of contrition. When they looked again the sun was shining quite normally, and all was quiet.

The excitement of the people was tremendous, and they left the scene of the visions singing hymns and thanking God for the wonders He had performed. Greater still was the excitement of the Press on the following day. The facts they could not deny. All they could do was to suggest some natural explanation such as mass-hypnotism. For a while this seemed to satisfy the opponents of the apparitions. Soon, however, this theory had to be discarded, when it was made known that many reliable witnesses, who were not in the crowd, but many miles away, had seen the miracle of the sun also. All that the anti-clericals could do was to plan a counter-attack.

From the town of Santerem came a band of anti-clericals from the Masonic lodge, on the night of October 13th. They smashed the small shrine built on the place of the apparitions, and scattered the ex voto offerings. They cut down an azinheira tree thinking it was the one over which Mary had appeared. But they were wrong. All that was left of the real tree by that time was a bare stump. On their return to Santarem they staged a mock-religious procession carrying their spoils from the Cova as trophies and singing ribald and blasphemous songs. They had hoped to kill the cult to Our Lady of Fatima by ridicule. The actual result of their outrage was an increase of devotion, and a corresponding increase in the number of pilgrims to the Cova. Daily they came, and on the 13th of each month there were sure to be thousands present.

CHAPTER EIGHT

When life had more or less settled back to normal for the three children, the first thing they did was to become regular attenders at the village school in Fatima. That was Our Lady’s wish for them. They still had to face the questions of visitors who chanced to meet them, and often hid in the hills rather than bear with the embarrassing adulations showered upon them. All the time they were developing within themselves a life of prayer and sacrifice along the lines taught them by Mary-devotion to her in the Rosary and sacrifice in reparation for the sins of the world.

Towards the end of summer, 1918, the terrible “Spanish Influenza,” which was then causing such ravages throughout the world, reached Aljustrel. It had already caused thousands of deaths in Portugal. In the village, Lucia’s father was amongst the first to die from the plague. In the Marto household before the scourge was ended, it had claimed five victims. In December, Francisco took to his bed. Four months later he died. During his illness he showed a wonderful patience and acceptance of God’s will. Our Lady appeared to him and his sister Jacinta, telling them that Francisco would soon die and go to Heaven, and that Jacinta herself would go to a hospital where she would suffer much in reparation for sinners before her death. On the 2nd of April Francisco received his First Holy Communion. It was also his last. On the morning of April 4th, with a happy smile on his face, knowing that he was now going to be with his Lady of the Cova and her Divine Son for all eternity, he breathed his last.

In the meanwhile, Jacinta had been stricken with the illness. When her brother died, she was already too weak to attend the funeral. Her illness was a slow and terrible one which lasted for almost a year. What was at first just influenza developed into tuberculosis and she suffered from a painful ulcer on the breast. After some months at home she was strong enough to make the journey to Lisbon. There she was brought to the Estafania hospital, after spending some time in a small orphanage called after Our Lady of the Miracles. In the Estafania hospital, in a last attempt to save her life, two of her ribs were removed. The operation was a success from the doctors” point of view, but Jacinta knew that her days on earth were numbered. On the 20th February, she made her confession. Holy Communion was to have been brought to her the following morning, but she died that night at ten o‘clock.

In Portugal, owing to the climate, burial generally takes place within twenty-four hours, but the corpse of Jacinta was left in the sacristy of a church and later in the premises of an undertaker for three and a half days. Crowds of people came to pay their respect to all that was left of the little seer of Fatima. All noticed the strangely fresh appearance of the little body and the peculiar and pleasant fragrance that surrounded it. From Lisbon it was taken to Vila Nova do Ourem to be interred in the family vault of the Alvaiazere family. In 1935 her body was translated to a specially prepared tomb in Fatima cemetery where Francisco was also buried. Before the re-burial, the coffin was opened and the corpse was found to be exactly as it was before her illness. In May, 1951, the tomb was opened and the bodies transferred to their last resting-place within the magnificent new Basilica at Cova da Iria, near the high altar. Church and State representatives, and members of the faculty of Medicine of Lisbon and Coimbra universities were present. Jacinta’s body was found to be in an almost perfect state of preservation.

Now her two companions of so many happy hours were gone to Heaven and Lucia was left. She knew from the Blessed Mother that she would have to live on and play a very important role in the spreading of devotion to the Immaculate Heart of Mary. If she followed her own wish she too would have died and joined them in Heaven. But such was not the Will of God for her. After the death of her cousins she felt herself completely alone in the world. They were the only ones on earth who could rightly understand all that the visits to the Cova meant. She visited regularly the places so hallowed for her by Heavenly associations, and wondered when she was going to receive direction from God about her future.

In 1921 the bishop of the recently restored diocese of Leiria which included Fatima and its neighbourhood, Dom Jose Alves Correia da Silva, arranged for Lucia to go to the boarding school of the Sisters of St. Dorothy at Vilar, a suburb of the city of Porto. For four years she lived there the life of an ordinary schoolgirl, doing her best to prepare herself for the mission that Heaven had in store for her. During these years she never revealed her identity to the others, nor did she ever discuss the happenings at Fatima. Besides the ordinary lessons on the curriculum, one other thing Lucia learned at Vilar and that was a love for the religious life. This developed, and in 1925 she entered the Order of St. Dorothy at the novitiate in Tuy, in Spain. Later having made her vows, she returned as Sister Mary of the Sorrows, to the convent in Porto. It was there on the night of January 25th, 1938, that she looked out of her cell window and saw the whole sky ablaze with a tremendous glow of fire which lasted for several hours. As reported in the press of the following day, this phenomenon had been seen all over Europe. Remembering the words of Mary about “the night illuminated by an unknown light” being the forewarning of war and terrible calamities as a punishment for sin, Lucia was convinced that the Sign had come. She wrote to the Bishop of Leiria immediately. Referring to it in a later letter (1941), she says:” . . . God was pleased in this way to make me understand that His justice was ready to let fall the blow on the guilty nation, and in this way to begin to ask with insistence for the reparatory Communion of the First Saturdays and the consecration of Russia . . . God in His mercy made me feel that this terrible moment was approaching . . . and I still say that the prayer and penance that are done in Portugal have not yet placated the divine justice, for they have not been accompanied by contrition or amendment.” She went on to say: “War is imminent. The sins of men will be washed in their own blood. Those nations will suffer most in the war which tried to destroy the Kingdom of God. Portugal will suffer some of the consequences of war, but, because of the consecration of Portugal to the Immaculate Heart, she will not suffer all of them.”

On Holy Thursday, 1948, Lucia still obedient to the Divine Will, left the Sisters of St. Dorothy to enter the still stricter cloister of the Carmelite Order. Today she is Sister Mary of the Immaculate Heart in the Carmel of Coimbra, the university city of Portugal.

Meanwhile, the cult of Our Lady of Fatima was growing apace. Within two weeks of taking over his diocese, the new bishop of Leiria, began to investigate officially the whole case of the apparitions at Cova da Iria. He interrogated the witnesses and examined the already bulky collection of documents.

Finally on October 13th, 1930 in the presence of a hundred thousand pilgrims at Cova de Iria, the Bishop of Leiria proclaimed that the visions with which the children were favoured were worthy of credence, and that the cult of Our Lady of Fatima was officially authorised. This was a very important declaration as it raised the Fatima devotion from being merely a local interest, to something universal in its appeal. On May 13th, 1931, the National Pilgrimage of Thanksgiving, led by the Cardinal Patriarch of Lisbon, Cardinal Cerejeira, took place. All the other Portuguese bishops took part in it also, and about three hundred thousand of the laity. With Fatima rapidly becoming the venue for many great pilgrimages, the Bishop saw that something would have to be done towards providing accommodation. His first concern was to build a basilica, of a proportion and dignity suited to the hallowed character of the place. On May 13th, 1928, the corner stone of the present magnificent basilica was laid. Fatima quickly became a recognised place of pilgrimage. Every year it is visited by thousands of people who wish to honour Mary and to beg her help. It is not just another shrine of Our Lady. It is not just a devotion of regional importance and significance only. It is universal. To confirm this, Fatima was officially recognised by Rome in 1928. In that year, Pope Pius XI blessed a special statue of Our Lady of Fatima and it was placed in the Portuguese College. Special indulgences have been granted by the Holy Father to all who make the Fatima pilgrimage, and in October 1942 Pope Pius XII, speaking over the radio to the assembled pilgrims, consecrated” Portugal and the whole world, on the altar of Fatima at Cova da Iria, to the Immaculate Heart of Mary.” On May 13th 1946, the Pope sent a special Legate, Cardinal Mazella, to crown, in the presence of almost a million people, the statue of Our Lady, in his name. On this occasion he also spoke over the radio to the pilgrims and imparted his special blessing. As another mark of his approval, the Holy Father decreed that the extended Holy Year should close at Fatima on October 13, 1951. His special Legate was Cardinal Tedeschini. The number of pilgrims present was reckoned to be over a million and included some five hundred bishops from all over the world.

The Portuguese government which has replaced the Masonic regime so bitterly hostile to all things Catholic, has shown many times, not merely tolerance but active co-operation in the development of the shrine. In 1929, the President of the Republic, General Oscar Carmona, accompanied by the Prime Minister, Dr. Salazar, and other members of the Cabinet went on pilgrimage to Fatima. That all this should have happened in the course of a few years, against such opposition, is in itself a proof of the supernatural origin of the visions at Cova da Iria.

CHAPTER NINE

To round off this short account of the visions of Our Lady at Cova da Iria in 1917 all that remains is to stress again the importance and urgency of “the tidings brought by Mary.”

The message of Fatima can be summed up in a few words- Amendment of life and the daily recitation of the Rosary. The words of Mary are so clear that there is no need for erudite commentators to seek hidden meanings. “I am the Lady of the Rosary. Men must amend their lives and ask pardon for their sins. They must not continue to offend Our Lord Who is already so much offended.” What could be clearer? In each of the six apparitions, Mary asked for the daily recitation of the Rosary and for amendment of life. There is no new revelation contained in the message of Fatima. It is merely an underlining of the inspired message of the gospel-the necessity of prayer and good works for salvation. In the effort to live one’s life in this spirit, there is inevitably contained penance and mortification. Lucia herself has said as much-that the penance demanded by Our Lady of Fatima is primarily to be found in the fulfilling of the duties of one’s state in life, and the avoidance of the occasions of sin.

What, then, can be done to comply with the demands of Mary? All over the world, in a wonderful wave of enthusiasm, people have found the answer. Say the Rosary daily, become a member of the Rosary Confraternity which is especially devoted to her. Keep her requests and promises in mind, by making the devotion of the Five First Saturdays. By doing this, her other request, “that men should amend their lives” follows logically and compliance with it will be the result of this devotion to her.

We live in a world where the very elements of Christian living are threatened. Because of that, Peace has practically vanished from the face of the earth. We must not forget that in the Hymn of the Angels, Peace was only promised to “men of Good Will.” There have been times when man seemed to have irrevocably strayed, but now Mary, the God-given Mother of the human race, has come again to point the way that will infallibly lead to Peace and Salvation. The choice is ours:-fulfil her requests and the Peace of God here and hereafter is assured us; neglect them, and on the word of the Blessed Mother, the world will be punished by terrors as yet unknown, and many souls will be damned.

Nihil Obstat:

JOSEPH P. NEWTH, C.C., Censor Theol. Deput.

Imprimi Potest:

@ IOANNES CAROLUS, Archiep. Dublinen,

Hiberniae Primas.

Dublini, die 19 Junii, anno 1953.

********

The Miraculous Infant Jesus of Prague

FR. PETER DAVIES, O.CARM

INDEX

In 1945 came the end of the Second World War. As soon as the gates of a concentration camp near Prague were flung open, a certain holy priest walked out that day from the place which he had never expected to leave alive. A deep gratitude filled his heart as he directed his steps immediately towards the Church of Our Lady of Victories. There he celebrated his first Mass in freedom beneath the statue of the Holy Infant of Prague, so much revered by his people. A few months later this holy man was nominated and consecrated Archbishop of Prague, and a little later still his name was to become a household word throughout the world; for this was Archbishop Beran, the prelate who has suffered so much in his struggle with the communists.

THE STORY OF THE STATUE

What is the history of this image of the Child Jesus, beloved of the Czech people, to which devotion has spread among all the peoples of the world? It is a story intimately connected with the Order of Carmel, and shows the loving care of the Divine Child for the Order which has as its aim the glorification of His Mother.

The image itself is beautifully moulded of wax, and is eighteen inches high. Copies of it may be seen in very many convents, churches and homes. The child’s figure is crowned with a golden crown, the orb is carried in the left hand, and the right hand is extended in blessing. It is usually seen dressed in a white tunic, a ruff around the neck, and wearing a long embroidered cloak. Over the centuries many splendid votive gifts have been made to it, and it has thirty-nine magnificent robes and mantles, many adorned with diamonds and other jewels, and of all colours.

FROM SPAIN TO BOHEMIA

The image of the Infant is of Spanish workmanship. St. Teresa of Avila had strongly inculcated a devotion to the Christ Child which she always practised herself. On her journeys she always carried a statue of the Divine Infant. She prayed to Him, and recommended the devotion to her nuns. She used to sing lullabies to the Holy Child, and once in a rapture of happiness, she danced before His statue with her tambourine in her hand. From her convents devotion to the Christ Child had spread among the Spanish people, and especially among the nobility.

We first hear of the statue we now know as that of the Infant of Prague in the family of Maria Manriquez de Lara, a princess of the Royal House of Spain. She was a relative and close friend of St. Teresa of Avila, and it is possible that the Saint herself designed the statue and gave it to her. Another legend has it that the statue was given to Maria’s mother by a holy Brother who had carved it after seeing a vision of the Holy Child.

MARIA TAKES THE STATUE TO PRAGUE

The Hapsburg Royal family had taken over the Kingdom of Bohemia in 1526, and from then on the kingdom formed very close ties with Spain. The culture of the land soon became tinged with that of Spain, and it became fashionable for the nobility to marry into Spanish families. The Emperor Maximilian himself chose the daughter of Charles V, the Infanta Maria, as his bride. When she left Spain for Prague, she took Maria Manriquez de Lara as her personal lady-in-waiting. When Maria Manriquez left for her new home in 1556, she took the statue of the Infant with her.

IN MARIA “S HOME

In Prague Maria Manriquez de Lara met a Czech nobleman, Vratislav z Perstejna, who was a very influential member of the Emperor’s court. She married him, and bore twenty children, of whom only seven survived. Maria Manriquez was a devout and holy woman, and the statue of the Infant was always venerated in her home. Her children were encouraged to pray to the Divine Infant, and model their behaviour on that of the Christ-Child. Needless to say, the family was an exemplary one.

WEDDING GIFT FOR POLYXENA

Maria “s youngest child was named Polyxena, and she must have been the favourite of her mother. Polyxena as a young girl was introduced into the life and activities of the Emperor’s court. There she met and fell in love with Prince Sidonius z Lobkowicz. When they married, Maria gave her daughter her most highly prized possession, the statue of the Infant. It was placed in an honoured place in their home, and the couple led an ideally happy life for eleven years. When Prince Sidonius died prematurely in 1623, Polyxena gave herself up to a life of prayer and charity. Among the worthy causes she espoused was the assistance and support of the Carmelite Fathers who had recently been brought from Spain and established in Prague.

FATHER DOMINIC, POPE “S LEGATE

The Carmelite Fathers had only recently come to Prague. When Ferdinand II of Austria was crowned King of Bohemia, the Protestant nobles rose in rebellion against him. They invited the Calvinist Elector, Palatine Frederic, to the throne and duly crowned him king. Ferdinand II then made an alliance with Maximilian, the Catholic Duke of Bavaria. The Pope sent the General of the Discalced Carmelites, Father Dominic of Jesu-Maria, as his Legate to this alliance. This holy old man joined the Catholic forces when he had arrived in Bohemia. He was most zealous in administering the Sacraments, and investing the soldiers with the Brown Scapular of Our Lady of Mount Carmel.

OUR LADY “S HELP IN BATTLE

On November 7, 1620, the Catholic and Protestant armies met near Prague. The Protestant forces were much superior in numbers, equipment and in the strategic position they held. The Catholic leaders feared to give battle under such disadvantages. Father Dominic entered the council of war and exhorted the generals to place their trust in Our Lady Help of Christians. He showed them a mutilated picture of Our Lady which he had found in the castle of Strakowitz. It had been mutilated by the heretics. As a result of his intervention, the Catholic generals decided to attack.

A GREAT VICTORY

On November 8, the following day, Fr. Dominic rode up and down the ranks on horseback, holding the picture aloft. He encouraged them to invoke the Mother of God in the battle, and make”Maria!” their war cry. The battle was joined, and the Catholic forces won a decisive victory.

CARMELITES COME TO BOHEMIA

In thanksgiving to God for this miraculous victory, and the timely intervention of Father Dominic, King Ferdinand founded several Carmelite monasteries: one at Vienna in 1622; one at Prague in 1624; and later a third at Graz. In Prague a house and a former Protestant church were given to the Carmelites. The church was solemnly blessed on September 8, the Nativity of Our Lady, under the title”Our Lady of Victories” (Maria de Victoria).

AN UNFORTUNATE MONASTERY

In spite of the grant given to them by King Ferdinand, the Prague monastery did not prosper. At first they were able to manage a meagre existence, but Emperor Ferdinand, their founder, moved his court to Vienna, and the friars were soon in dire want, often lacking sufficient food. Princess Polyxena heard of their great need, and sent them what aid she could. She became very attached to them, and decided to give them that which she prized most. One day she appeared at the door of the monastery with the statue of the Infant Jesus and gave it to the Prior. Her words on that occasion were prophetic: “Father, I am giving you what I prize above all things. As long as you honour this image you will never want.”

VENERABLE FATHER CYRIL OF THE MOTHER OF GOD

The statue was set up in the chapel of the monastery, and there twice a day special devotions were performed before it. The novices were particularly devoted to the Holy Infant. Their confidence was soon rewarded. That same year (1628) the Emperor sent an unexpected gift of two thousand florins and promised a monthly allowance for their support. Many other spiritual and temporal blessings followed. One of the novices, Brother Cyril of the Mother of God, was immediately delivered from a deep spiritual dryness and depression on praying to the Divine Infant. His devotion to the little King remained throughout his long and holy life.

THE CLOUDS OF WAR

This first outpouring of devotion to the Divine Infant was, however, but short lived. The clouds of war were gathering again, and in 1630 King Gustavus Adolphus of Sweden and his Protestant armies threatened the city of Prague. Most of the community, including Brother Cyril, were sent off to Munich for safety. Only two Fathers stayed on, and in the troubled times, devotion to the statue was neglected. On November 15, 1631, the Protestant armies entered Prague and sacked all the religious houses and churches of the city. The two Carmelite Fathers were imprisoned and their property seized. The church was plundered, and the statue thrown on to a heap of rubbish behind the high altar. The hands were broken, but otherwise it suffered no serious damage.

FORGOTTEN AND UNHONOURED

Peace came again in 1637, and soon afterwards the Carmelites returned to Prague. In their cares and anxieties they seem to have forgotten the statue, which they threw out with the accumulated rubbish from their despoiled church. For seven years the Little Infant remained in the refuse, mutilated, unhonoured and forgotten. As long as this state of affairs persisted, a peculiar misfortune seemed to rest on the monastery. No Prior or Master of Novices was able to hold out for the term of his office; misfortune, burdens and annoyances caused them to resign their positions. Many other religious asked to be transferred because they felt uneasy in this monastery. Fervour and zeal were at a low ebb, financially the house was, at the point of destitution, and tensions were rife in the community. Nothing prospered.

THE STATUE REDISCOVERED

Then in 1637, Father Cyril of the Mother of God (the former novice, Brother Cyril), was sent back to Prague. The devotion he had always practised to the Divine Infant from the days of his novitiate in this monastery was undimmed. On his return from Munich, he searched every place in the house for the statue he loved. At last he discovered his long-lost treasure buried in a pile of rubbish. Filled with joy, he cleaned it as best he could, and obtained the Prior’s permission to put the little Child King back in His old position over the altar, even though it was grimy and battered and had lost its hands. Here the community renewed its devotion to the Divine Infant. They poured out their troubles before it, offered their fervent prayers, and soon received consolation and help. A new spirit of prayer and zeal pervaded the monastery, and material relief came abundantly and speedily.

“GIVE ME MY HANDS”

As in former years, Father Cyril was the most zealous disciple of the Holy Infant, and spent many hours in prayer before the statue. One night, long after the rest of the community had left the chapel, he remained a long time in prayer before it. As he prayed, the statue seemed to come to life, and the holy priest heard these words: Have pity on Me, and I will have pity on you. Give Me my hands, and I will give you peace. The more you honour Me, the more will I bless you. It was only then that the astonished Father Cyril folded back the mantle which covered the statue, and realised that the Infant Jesus was without His hands.

FATHER CYRIL”S PLEA REFUSED

Father Cyril begged the Prior to have the hands repaired and replaced on the figure; but his pleadings were in vain. The

Prior considered the other needs of the house were too great to allow him to incur this seemingly needless expense. This Prior lacked Father Cyril’s deep confidence in the Divine Child, and the rest of his rule over the monastery was dogged with misfortune.

AN UNEXPECTED GIFT

Father Cyril took the statue to his cell, and in tears, begged the Holy Infant to send enough money to have the repairs done. His faith was rewarded. A few days later he was summoned to attend a wealthy man who was seriously ill. The good priest told him the story of the statue, and the sick man gave Father Cyril 100 florins to have it repaired. He returned with the money to the monastery, filled with happiness that at last the image of the Holy Infant could be restored.

THE NEW STATUE

But his joy was short-lived. The Prior, after. due consideration, thought it better that a new statue should be commissioned instead of repairing the old one. The new statue was eventually delivered and erected in place of the old one. Scarcely had it been put up when a heavy candelabrum which had been firmly fixed to the wall, unaccountably fell and smashed the figure into fragments. It was clear to Father Cyril that the old and mutilated figure was to be the object of veneration in the monastery.

FATHER DOMINIC BECOMES PRIOR

Soon after this incident, elections were held in the Order, and a new Prior, Father Dominic, became superior of the monastery. Father Cyril went to him and begged him to have the old statue repaired. Father Dominic assured him that he would gladly do so, but could only give him a small sum, quite insufficient for the work. Father Cyril seemed as far as ever from the object of his desires.

OUR LADY “S GIFT

Once more Father Cyril took his troubles to the Divine Infant, and prayed long and fervently. Scarcely had he finished when he was summoned to the church. There on the altar steps of the shrine of Our Lady of Mount Carmel, a beautiful lady of great dignity, unknown to him, placed a large sum of money in his hands. She said:”The goodness of God sends you these alms to succour your well-known poverty.” Before he had time to recover from his amazement to thank her, she disappeared. Father Cyril always believed that it was the Virgin Mother of the Divine Infant who had heard his plea.

FURTHER DISAPPOINTMENT

Once again the joy of the good priest was short-lived. The Prior promised to have the work done, but only if it could be done for a certain price. The modeller asked twice the sum allowed, and the image remained as it was, battered and without its hands.

A PROMISE AND A CURE

Shortly after this, fresh trials fell upon the monastery. The pestilence called the”black plague” was raging through the land. Some of the community became ill, others had to be sent away. The cows and horses of the friars were stolen by marauding soldiers. In all this trouble, the Prior himself was attacked by the plague, and was brought to death’s door. Father Cyril urged him to invoke the aid of the Divine Child. The Prior then and there promised that if he recovered, he would offer a novena of Masses before the statue of the Holy Infant. At once he felt relief, and in a few days was completely restored to health. He became a fervent promoter of devotion to the Divine Child, and assigned a special chapel for the veneration of the image of the little King.

THE IMAGE RESTORED

But the hands of the statue had not even yet been restored. Alone before the image one day, deep in prayer, Father Cyril seemed to hear a whisper: Place Me near the entrance to the sacristy and you will find someone who will have pity on Me. The priest at once did so, and his blind obedience was rewarded. A stranger approached, and without preamble offered to have the statue repaired at his own expense. The offer was gladly accepted, and in a short time the renovated statue was exposed for veneration in the church. The Divine Child amply repaid the generous benefactor whose name was Daniel Wolf. This man had been accused of having discharged unfaithfully his office as Chief Commissioner of War. He had lost his good name, his position and his property. He was enduring a very severe trial at the time of making the offer. Within a few days he received an Imperial Decree clearing him of the charges, and restoring all his property, his good name and his position. Daniel Wolf then provided a beautiful shrine in the public church where the image could be fittingly venerated by all.

THE DEVOTION SPREADS

Reports of these happenings spread rapidly, not only around the city of Prague, but throughout Bohemia. Soon the Shrine of the Divine Infant was thronged with people who came to pray before it. Many wonderful answers to prayer increased the veneration in which the statue was held. Cures and miracles without number were wrought through devotion to the Divine Child. Copies of the statue were made, and devotion to the”Infant of Prague” spread throughout the whole world.

A PERMANENT HOME

In 1642 the Baroness Benigna of Lobkowitz had a splendid new chapel built to house the Divine Infant whom she venerated highly. To the great joy of Father Cyril, this new chapel was dedicated on the Feast of the Holy Name of Jesus, 1644, and Holy Mass was celebrated there for the first time. From that time the Feast of the Holy Name has remained the principal feast of the miraculous Infant.

THE DEVOTION APPROVED

The Holy See was not slow in recognising the spiritual value of devotion to the Infant Jesus. Many prayers were approved and Indulgences granted. In 1913 Pope St. Pius X established the Confraternity of the Infant Jesus of Prague to unite all who were devoted to the Miraculous Infant, and granted its members many spiritual favours. The Confraternity is established in Australia at the church of the Carmelite Fathers, Middle Park, Victoria.

THE LITTLE FLOWER, ST. THERESE OF LISIEUX

In practically every Catholic school you will see a statue of the Divine Infant of Prague. It has become the symbol of devotion to the childhood of Jesus, and provides the young people of our times with a tremendous model and an inspiration to form their lives on that of Jesus. The spiritual teaching of St. Therese of Lisieux is often called the Way of Spiritual Childhood. The little saint of Lisieux was not only Therese of the Child Jesus in name, but throughout her life she had a particular devotion to the Infant Jesus just as her great spiritual mother, St. Teresa of Avila, had. She placed His statue in the novitiate at Lisieux when she had charge of the novices, because she knew how many blessings the Divine Child brought to the Carmelite novices in Prague when it was placed in their midst. The same statue still stands in the cloister at Lisieux.

WAY OF SPIRITUAL CHILDHOOD

The Little Flower is the saint who has perhaps shown best to the world the virtues of that spiritual childhood which Our Lord has commanded all His followers to cultivate. In her simplicity she was a child at heart; her utter confidence and abandonment to God through all her life were the virtues of a child whose trust in its loving Father is complete. Her love for the Divine Infant and her meditation on Him were important in the development of her deep yet simple spirituality. It was not for nothing that she chose the name”Therese of the Child Jesus and the Holy Face.” She combined devotion to the childhood of Christ and to the Sacred Passion to form the basis of her spiritual life.

THE LITTLE KING “S RULE IN CATHOLIC HOMES

In many thousands of Catholic homes throughout Australia, the statue of the Divine Infant of Prague is enthroned in a prominent place. So many graces have been received through invoking the sweet Child Jesus, that the statue is better known as the”Miraculous Infant Jesus of Prague.” There is a widespread confidence in the power of prayer to the Divine Infant for every kind of need. We read the following in an old book printed in Kempt dealing with the image of the Infant of Prague:”All who approach the miraculous statue and pray there with confidence receive assistance in danger, consolation in sorrow, aid in poverty, comfort in anxiety, light in spiritual darkness, streams of grace in dryness of soul, health in sickness, and hope in despair. From its beautiful eyes dart sparks of heavenly love; its smiling lips offer us spiritual riches, and its beauty conquers all hearts.”

“ No colic is so painful, no fever so violent, no tumour so malignant, no insanity so raving, no complaint so irritating, no assault of Satan so furious, no pestilence so infectious, no swelling so serious, as not to be dispelled or cured by this blessed Child. The Holy Infant puts an end to enmities, frees prisoners, saves those who are condemned to death, brings obstinate sinners to repentance, and blesses childless parents with offspring. In short, He is become all to all.”

“YOU SHALL NOT WANT”

When Princess Polyxena first gave the statue to the Carmelites, she said: So long as you venerate this image you shall not want. The subsequent history of the statue of the Little King, its being honoured and forgotten, seemed to have had a marked effect upon the financial and material needs of the community which sheltered it. Perhaps for that reason, a vast number of people appeal to the Divine Infant of Prague in times of material and financial difficulty. Towards those who approach Him with love and confidence, the Divine Infant shows Himself as generous and openhanded as He was to the Carmelites of Prague. The favours ascribed to the intervention of the Divine Infant of Prague are beyond computing.

“HONOUR ME . . . I WILL BLESS YOU”

Many of the statues of the Holy Infant of Prague have a little inscription on the base-the words which Father Cyril recorded hearing as he prayed before it: The more you honour Me, the more will I bless you. For that reason the image of the Divine Child is honoured in so many homes. Where the Little King reigns, there will be peace and happiness and unity. In that home in which the Divine Child holds out His hand in blessing, where the image of Our Lord’s own childhood is clear and bright, where the family looks to Him as the provider of every spiritual and material need, the grace of Christ is poured out in abundance. Such a family makes its own the beautiful prayer written by the Venerable Cyril of the Mother of God:

To Thee, O Jesus, now I flee

And through Thy Mother beg of Thee

From present straits to rescue me;

For firmly I believe in Thee,

That Thou cant well watch over me.

With all my heart I love but Thee,

By countless sins I have grieved Thee;

From which, a suppliant to Thee,

Jesus, I pray, deliver me.

The will to amend is strong in me,

No more shall I give pain to Thee;

So I give up myself to Thee

That I may bear all things for Thee.

My neighbour, too, as like to me, I choose to love because of Thee. O little Jesus, I beg Thee

From present perils save Thou me, That I at last have joy in Thee With holy Joseph and Mary

And the angels for eternity. Amen.

PRAYERS TO THE MIRACULOUS INFANT OF PRAGUE

PRAYER OF THE LITTLE FLOWER

O Little Infant Jesus, my only treasure, I abandon myself to Thy every wish. I seek no other joy than that of calling forth Thy sweet smile. Grant me the graces and the virtues of Thy Holy Childhood, so that on the day of my birth into Heaven the angels and saints may recognize me as Thy little spouse.

INDULGENCED PRAYER TO THE INFANT JESUS

Most Dear Lord Jesus Christ, who being made an Infant for us, wast willing to be born in a cave to free us from the darkness of sin, to draw us to Thyself, and to inflame us with Thy holy love; we adore Thee as our Creator and Redeemer, we accept and choose Thee for our King and Lord, and for tribute we offer Thee all the affections of our poor hearts. Dear Jesus, our Lord and our God, deign to accept this offering; and that it may be worthy of Thine acceptance, pardon us our faults, enlighten us, and inflame us with that holy fire which Thou camest to bring into the world and enkindle in men’s hearts. May our souls thus become a perpetual sacrifice in Thy honour. Grant that we may ever seek Thy greater glory here on earth, so that we may one day come to rejoice in Thy infinite loveliness in heaven. Amen. (100 days Indulgence, once a day).

ACT OF CONSECRATION TO THE INFANT JESUS OF PRAGUE

O sweet Child Jesus, who didst manifest Thy power and mercy through a little waxen figure of Thyself in Prague, I wish to proclaim Thy Royal dominion over my soul and body.

Deign, O Little King of Heaven, to watch over my work, bless my enterprises both temporal and spiritual, to dispel my cares, to sanctify my joys, to alleviate my sufferings.

Grant me pardon for all the offences I have committed against Thee, for I know that Thou art good and merciful to the penitent sinner. Thine I am. Thine I wish to remain, ever loving and adoring Thee, Little King of Heaven. Take possession of my whole being; do with me whatever Thou wilt. I desire, like St. Theresa, Thy Little Flower of Carmel, to be Thy playmate. Make me love Thee more and more, that one day I will enjoy Thy sweet little face smiling from Thy throne in Heaven.

EFFICACIOUS PRAYER TO THE HOLY CHILD JESUS

(A revelation said to have been made by the Blessed Mother to the Ven. Servant of God, Father Cyril of The Mother of God.)

O Child Jesus, I have recourse to Thee through Thy Holy Mother; I implore Thee to assist me in this necessity, for I firmly believe that Thy Divinity can assist me. I confidently hope to obtain Thy holy grace. I love Thee with my whole heart and my whole soul. I am heartily sorry for my sins, and entreat Thee, O good Jesus, to give me strength to overcome them.

I am firmly resolved never to offend Thee again and to suffer everything rather than displease Thee. Henceforth, I wish to serve Thee faithfully. For love of Thee, O divine Child, I will love my neighbour as myself. O Jesus, omnipotent Child,

I entreat Thee again to come to my assistance in this necessity. (Mention It).

Grant me the grace of possessing Thee eternally with Mary and Joseph and of adoring Thee with Thy Holy Angels and

Saints. Amen.

“ FLYING” NOVENA

(This Novena is to be said at the same time every hour for nine consecutive hours-just One Day.) O Jesus, Who hast said, ask and you shall receive, seek and you shall find, knock and it shall be opened to you, through the intercession of Mary, Thy most Holy Mother, I knock, I seek, I ask that my prayer be granted. (Make Your Request)

O Jesus, Who hast said all that you ask of the Father in My Name, He will grant you through the intercession of Mary Thy Most Holy Mother, I humbly and earnestly ask Thy Father in Thy name that my prayer be granted.

(Make Your Request)

O Jesus, Who hast said”Heaven and Earth shall pass away but my word shall not pass,” through the intercession of Mary, Thy Most Holy Mother, I feel confident that my prayer will be granted.

(Make Your Request)

O Divine Child of Prague, and still the great omnipotent God, I implore through Thy Most Holy Mother’s most powerful intercession and through the boundless mercy of Thy omnipotence answer to the Intention I so earnestly ask for In this Novena.

O Divine Child of Prague, hear my prayer and grant my petition. (Say Three Times) (Our Father and Hail Mary-Once)

PRAYER IN AFFLICTION

O dearest Jesus, tenderly loving us, Thy greatest joy is to dwell among men and to bestow Thy blessing upon us! Though I am not worthy that Thou shouldst behold me with love, I feel myself drawn to Thee, O dear Infant Jesus, because Thou dost gladly pardon me and exercise Thy almighty power over me.

So many who turned with confidence to Thee have received graces and had their petitions granted. Behold me, in spirit I kneel before Thy miraculous image and lay open my heart to Thee, with its prayers, petitions and hopes. Especially the affair of [ ] I enclose In Thy loving Heart. Govern me and do with me and mine according to Thy holy will, for I know that in Thy Divine wisdom and love Thou wilt ordain everything for the best. Almighty, gracious Infant Jesus, do not withdraw Thy hand from us, but protect and bless us forever.

I pray Thee, sweetest Infant, in the name of Thy Blessed Mother Mary who cared for Thee with such tenderness, and by the great reverence with which St. Joseph carried Thee in his arms; comfort me and make me happy that I may bless and thank Thee forever from all my heart. Amen.

PRAYER FOR A HAPPY DEATH

O precious Infant Jesus! I approach Thee now to ask most devoutly for a happy death. When my last moment draws nigh, then come Thou to me in holy Viaticum; remain near me, bring Thy Virgin Mother and St. Joseph with Thee. Alleviate my sufferings, banish my fear, let me valiantly overcome all temptations, and give me grace willingly to offer up my life as a satisfaction for my sins, in the expectation of everlasting bliss in heaven.

PRAYER OF THANKSGIVING FOR GRACES RECEIVED FROM THE INFANT JESUS OF PRAGUE I prostrate myself before Thy holy image, O most gracious Infant Jesus, to offer Thee my most fervent thanks for the blessings Thou hast bestowed on me. I shall incessantly praise Thy ineffable mercy and confess that Thou alone art my God, my helper, and my protector. Henceforth my entire confidence shall be placed in Thee! Everywhere will I proclaim aloud Thy mercy and generosity, so that Thy great love and the great deeds which Thou performest through this miraculous image may be acknowledged by all. May devotion to Thy holy infancy extend more and more in the hearts of all Christians, and may all who experience Thy assistance presevere with me in showing unceasing gratitude to Thy most holy infancy, to which be praise and glory for all eternity. Amen.

THE INFANT JESUS CHAPLET

Directed by heavenly guidance, Venerable Sister Marguerite of the BI. Sacrament (1619–1648), a Carmelite nun, fashioned the Infant Jesus Chaplet. Because its recitation pleases Him so very much,

Jesus promised Ven. Sister Marguerite that the faithful who recite it in memory of His Birth, His Flight into Egypt, and His Hidden Life at Nazareth, will not only be granted the special graces of purity of heart and innocence, but in addition will be unfailingly assisted by His Divine Help in all their spiritual and temporal wants. Moreover, to encourage the use of this Holy Chaplet, P. Pius IX granted a”100 days indulgence for each recitation, also applicable to the Poor Souls (Aug. 9, 1855).

While meditating on the goodness of the Infant Jesus whose Image is portrayed on the medal, say

“Divine Infant Jesus, I adore Thy Cross and I accept all the crosses Thou will be pleased to send me. Adorable Trinity, I offer Thee for the glory of the Holy Name of God, all the adoration of the Sacred Heart of the Holy Infant Jesus.”

Next devoutly recite the Our Father three times in honour of the Holy Family of Jesus, Mary and Joseph. Before each Our Father says the aspiration

“And the Word was made flesh and dwelt amongst us.”

In memory of the twelve years of Jesus” Sacred Infancy, twelve Hail Mary’s are now recited, and before each one the same aspiration is again said:”And the Word was made flesh and dwelt amongst us.

In conclusion, the invocation is said,”Holy Infant Jesus, bless and protect us.”

PRAYER TO BE RECITED BY A SICK PERSON

O merciful Infant Jesus! I know of Thy miraculous deeds to the sick. How many diseases didst Thou not cure during Thy blessed life on earth, and how many worshippers of Thy miraculous Image do not ascribe to Thee their recovery and deliverance from most painful and hopeless maladies. I know, indeed, that a sinner like me has merited his suffering and has no right to ask for favours. But, in view of the innumerable graces and the miraculous cures granted even to the greatest sinners through the veneration of Thy holy infancy, particularly in the miraculous statue of Prague or in representations of it, I exclaim with the greatest assurance: O most loving, most pitiful Infant Jesus, Thou canst cure me if Thou wilt! Do not hesitate, O Heavenly Physician, if it be Thy will that I recover again from this present illness; extend Thy most holy hands and by Thy power take away all pain and infirmity, so that my recovery may be due not to natural remedies, but to Thee alone. If, however, Thou in Thy inscrutable wisdom hast determined otherwise, then at least restore my soul to perfect health, fill me with heavenly consolation and blessing, that I may be like to Thee, O Jesus, in my suffering, and may on my sick-bed glorify Thy providence, until Thou, by the death of the body, bestowest on me eternal life. Amen.

LITANY OF THE MIRACULOUS INFANT OF PRAGUE (For private devotion only)

Lord have mercy.

Christ have mercy. Lord have mercy.

Christ hear us.

Christ graciously hear us.

* Have mercy on us.

† Deliver us, O Jesus.

‡ We beseech Thee hear us.

God the Father of heaven. (Have mercy on us. * )

God the Son, Redeemer of the world, *

God the Holy Ghost. *

O miraculous Infant Jesus, *

Infant Jesus, true God and Lord, *

Infant Jesus, whose omnipotence is manifested in a wonderful manner, *

Infant Jesus, whose wisdom searches our hearts and reins, *

Infant Jesus, whose goodness continually inclines to aid us, *

Infant Jesus, whose providence leads us to our last end and destiny, *

Infant Jesus, whose truth enlightens the darkness of our hearts, *

Infant Jesus, whose generosity enriches our poverty *

Infant Jesus, whose friendship consoles the afflicted,*

Infant Jesus, whose mercy forgives our sins, *

Infant Jesus, whose strength invigorates us, *

Infant Jesus, whose power turns away all evils, *

Infant Jesus, whose justice deters us from sin, *

Infant Jesus, whose power conquers hell, *

Infant Jesus, whose lovely countenance attracts our hearts, *

Infant Jesus, whose greatness holds the universe in its hand, *

Infant Jesus, whose love-inflamed Heart kindles our cold hearts, *

Infant Jesus, whose miraculous hand raised in benediction fills us with all blessings, * Infant Jesus, whose sweet and holy Name rejoices the hearts of the faithful, *

Infant Jesus, whose glory fills the whole world, *

Be merciful, spare us, O Jesus.

Be merciful, Graciously hear us, O Jesus.

From all evil, (Deliver us, O Jesus† )

From all sin,†

From all distrust of Thy infinite goodness,†

From all distrust of Thy infinite goodness, miracles,†

From all lukewarmness in Thy veneration,†

From trials and misfortunes,†

Through the mysteries of Thy holy childhood,†

We sinners, (Beseech Thee hear us.‡ )

Through the intercession of Mary, Thy virgin Mother, and Joseph, Thy foster father,‡ That Thou wouldst pardon us,‡

That Thou wouldst bring us to true repentance,‡

That Thou wouldst preserve and increase in us love and devotion to Thy sacred infancy,‡ That Thou wouldst never withdraw Thy miraculous hand from us,‡

That Thou wouldst keep us mindful of Thy numberless benefits,‡

That Thou wouldst inflame us more and more with love for Thy Sacred Heart,‡

That Thou wouldst graciously deign to hear all who call upon Thee with confidence,‡ That Thou wouldst preserve our country in peace, t That Thou wouldst free us from all impending evils,‡ That Thou wouldst give eternal life to all who act generously toward Thee,‡

That Thou wouldst pronounce a merciful sentence on us at the judgement,‡

That Thou wouldst in Thy miraculous image remain our consoling refuge,‡

Jesus, Son of God and of Mary,‡

Lamb of God, who takest away the sins of the world, Spare us, O Jesus. Lamb of God, who takest away the sins of the world, Graciously hear us, O Jesus. Lamb of God, who takest away the sins of the world, Have mercy on us, O Jesus. Jesus hear us.

Jesus graciously hear us.

Our Father, etc.

LET US PRAY

O miraculous Infant Jesus! prostrate before Thy sacred image, we beseech Thee to cast a merciful look on our troubled hearts. Let Thy tender Heart, so inclined to pity, be softened at our prayers, and grant us that grace for which we ardently implore Thee. Take from us all affliction and despair, all trials and misfortunes with which we are laden. For Thy sacred infancy’s sake hear our prayers and send us consolation and aid, that we may praise Thee, with the Father and the Holy Ghost, forever and ever. Amen.

Nihil Obstat:

BERNARD O”CONNOR, Diocesan Censor.

Imprimatur:

@ DANIEL MANNIX, Archiepiscopus Melburnensis. Melbourne, 8/1/1963.

********

The Miraculous Medal

SISTER CATHERINE LABOURÉ, DAUGHTER OF CHARITY

INDEX

It was a humble daughter of Saint Vincent of Paul who was chosen by the Immaculate Virgin to reveal to the whole catholic world the wonderful devotion of the medal, called since by common consent the Miraculous Medal on account of the numerous miracles obtained by the instrumentality of this simple token.

Sister Catherine, formerly Zoe Labouré, whose life though unknown to the world was precious before God, was born on the 2nd of May 1806 at Fain-les-Moutiers, a hamlet of the Côte-d’Or, in the parish of Moutiers-Saint-jean.

Her parents were good Christians and industrious peasants who lived honourably in cultivating their own land, and enjoying the ease which activity for work and simplicity of rustic life give to country people. God blessed their marriage in granting them a numerous family: seven sons and three daughters.

Zoe was hardly eight years old, when her mother died. Already capable of feeling the weight of this sacrifice, it seemed to her that the Blessed Virgin wished to be her only Mother.

When about twelve years of age she made her first communion in the church of Moutiers-Saint Jean with a pure and fervent heart. From that time, her only desire was to give herself without reserve to that Dear Lord who had taken up His abode for the first time in her heart.

Her eldest sister having left home to enter the Sisters of Charity, Zoe was obliged to take in hand the management of the housekeeping. She cooked for the family with the help of a servant who assisted her in the rough work. In harvest time, she carried the food to the reapers and never refused any painful task.

One of her favourite occupations was the care and direction of the pigeon-house, which contained always between seven or eight hundred pigeons. She cared for them so well that every one of them knew her. At times, when she appeared they came flying about her in the form of a crown. It was, as her sister said, the most charming sight to behold: innocence attracting gentle doves, the symbol of purity.

To a spotless heart, Zoe joined the mortifications of a penitential life, and in spite of the fatigues of her daily work, she had contracted from her earliest childhood the habit of fasting on Fridays and Saturdays. Pious and recollected in the parish church where she attended mass daily at an early hour, she could be seen kneeling there on the cold pavement, even in winter.

However her laborious country life did not make her forget her vocation. Having received several proposals of marriage, her invariable answer was that she had plighted her troth long ago to her Dear Saviour, she desired Him only for her spouse

The choice she had made seems to have been decided by a dream she had, in which she perceived clearly the action of God and a preparation to her future vocation.

She dreamed she was in the village church, and in the chapel dedicated to the holy souls in Purgatory. She saw a very old priest, of venerable and remarkable aspect, vesting, and then saying mass. She assisted with devotion and deeply impressioned by the presence of this unknown priest. At the end of the mass, the priest called her; but she felt too frightened and drew backwards, keeping her eyes the whole time fixed on him.

Still dreaming, she left the church and entered into one of the houses of the village to visit a sick person. There, the aged priest stood before her again, and said these words: “My daughter, it is well to take care of the sick; you shrink from me now, but one day you will be happy to come to me. God has great designs in your regard. Do not forget it.” Still amazed and fearful the young girl withdrew. It seemed to her as she left the house and walked away, that her feet did not touch the ground, and, at the moment she entered her father’s house, she awoke and found that all had been but a dream.

She was then eighteen years old and hardly knew how to read or write. She felt that this would be an obstacle to her admission into community, and she asked her father to let her stay some time with her sister-in-law who was a schoolmistress at Chatillon-sur-Seine, in order to take lessons from her. He was so much afraid of losing her that it was only with great reluctance he consented to her departure.

Her mind was deeply impressed with the vision that she had had, she spoke of it to the parish priest of Chatillon, who said that in his opinion the aged priest she saw in her dream was Saint Vincent, who was calling her to be a Daughter of Charity.

Her sister-in-law took her one day to the Sisters at Chatillon, and on entering the parlour, Zoe was struck by the sight of a portrait which was an exact likeness of the priest who had said to her in the dream: “My daughter, you shrink from me now, but one day you will be happy to come to me. God has great designs in your regard. Do not forget it. “She asked immediately whose portrait it was, and on hearing it was Saint Vincent’s, the mystery was cleared up: she understood at once, that she was to have him for her father.

This occurrence naturally did not diminish her desires. Her stay at Chatillon was short, but it was not till the beginning of the year 1830 that she succeeded in triumphing over the resistance of her father, and entered the Sisters of Charity at Chatillon as a postulant.

Zoe Labouré was very happy to see herself at the end of a hard trial which had lasted nearly two years. On the 21st of April 1830, she reached the long desired haven of the seminary or novitiate of the Daughters of Charity.

VISION OF THE HEART OF SAINT VINCENT OF PAUL

Sister Labouré was overjoyed at finding herself in the spiritual home she had so longed for, and fervent were her prayers during her stay at the Mother house and great her gratitude for being entirely engaged in the service of God. Three days before the celebrated ceremony of the translation of Saint Vincent of Paul’s relics from the Archbishop’s residence to the Lazarist’s chapel, she was favoured with a prophetic vision. The same Lord who had called Vincent from tending his father’s flock to the honour of co-operating in the designs of his infinite charity, was going also to confide to a poor simple girl the secrets of His mercy.

We shall let her tell in her own simple language her impressions of this touching ceremony: “I arrived on the Wednesday before the translation of Saint Vincent of Paul’s relics. I felt so happy and delighted in assisting at this great celebration that I seemed to be no longer on earth. I asked Saint Vincent to obtain for me all the graces I wanted, and prayed for his two families, and for France which seemed to me in great need of prayers. Lastly, I begged Saint Vincent to teach me what I ought to ask for, and how to do so with a strong faith.”

She was coming back from Saint-Lazare, her soul full of these thoughts, and went into the chapel of the Mother-house, and there was favoured with a vision, which she relates in the following terms:

“I had the consolation of seeing Saint Vincent’s heart above the little shrine where the relics were exposed.

“It appeared to me three consecutive days, each time in a different manner:

“In the first vision, the heart was of a whitish flesh colour, I understood that this meant peace, tranquillity and concord. The second time, it was of a fiery hue, the symbol of the charity which was to revive and extend all over the world.

“Lastly, I saw it of a dark red colour, which rendered my heart sad; I began to fear and felt as if that sadness had something to do with a change of Government.”

(Indeed, it was very strange, that Sister Labouré should have at that time political sympathies.)

She heard an interior voice which said: “The heart of Saint Vincent is profoundly grieved at the thought of the great calamities which are about to overwhelm France.”

On the last day of the octave, once again, she saw the same heart, and it was then of a light red colour. The interior voice said again: “The heart of Saint Vincent is rather comforted, because he has obtained from God through the intercession of Mary, that his two families should not perish in the midst of these calamities, and that God would make use of them to revive faith in France.”

In order to quiet her mind, she spoke of these visions to her confessor, M. Aladel, a very holy priest, a true son of Saint Vincent of Paul and a man of sound judgment, great experience and prudence.

He induced her to give up these thoughts. Sister Labouré obeyed, and nothing in her exterior ever attracted the least notice from her companions.

During the whole time of her seminary, this humble Sister enjoyed the sensible presence of Our Lord in the Sacrament of His Love: “Only, said she, when a doubt crossed my mind, did I cease to behold Him, because I wished to scrutinize what I saw, from the fear of being deceived.

M. Aladel began to believe that Catherine was gifted with a prophetic spirit, and on seeing the accomplishment of several facts she had announced to him, he felt inclined to give credit to other communications still more marvellous that we are going to relate.

The first apparition of the Blessed Virgin. Sister Catherine already favoured with heavenly manifestations wished ardently, in her artless simplicity, to see the Blessed Virgin. To obtain this favour, she prayed fervently to her good Angel, to Saint Vincent and to the Blessed Virgin herself.

On the 18th of July 1830, the eve of Saint Vincent of Paul’s feast, the Directress of the Seminary gave an instruction on devotion to our Blessed Lady and to the Saints, which still further increased the young Sister’s desire. In this state of mind she retired to rest that night, recommending herself to Saint Vincent, with a firm confidence that her prayers would be granted. The same night at half-past eleven, she heard someone calling her three times by her name. Being thoroughly wakened, she drew her bed curtain on the side from which the voice seemed to proceed: What did she see? A beautiful fair-haired child, about five years old, dressed in white, shedding forth a heavenly light which illuminated everything. In a sweet tone of voice, he said: “Come to the Chapel, the Blessed Virgin is waiting for you.”-But Sister Labouré who was sleeping in a large dormitory, thought to herself:

“If I get up, I shall be heard and discovered. “Do not be afraid,” said the child, answering her thought, “It is half-past eleven, every body is asleep, and I shall accompany you.”

At these words, unable to refuse the invitation of the amiable guide that had been sent to her, Sister Labouré rose, dressed herself hastily and followed the child, who walked the whole time on her left diffusing beams of brightness wherever he passed; Her surprise was great in finding that on the passages all the lamps were lighted and when they arrived at the door of the Chapel, it opened at once when the child touched it.

The altar was also illuminated, putting her in mind, she said, of Midnight Mass.

The child conducted her to the altar, where she knelt down, whilst her heavenly guide entered into the sanctuary, standing on the left side. The time seemed to her very long. At last, at midnight, the child said: “The Blessed Virgin is coming; here she is.” At the same moment, Sister Labouré heard distinctly a slight noise at the right side of the Altar, like the rustling of a silk dress. A few minutes later a beautiful lady came in and seated herself at the left side of the Sanctuary, in the place usually occupied by the Director of the Community. The seat, attitude, and costume, that is to say a yellowish dress with a blue cloak, recalled to her mind those in the picture of Saint Ann hanging just above that seat. But it was not the same face. Sister Labouré was there gazing on the figure struggling inwardly between hope and doubt.

Suddenly, the little child spoke but assuming the voice of a man, he asked her whether the Queen of Heaven was not free to appear to a poor creature under whatever form she chose.

Immediately all hesitation ceased and Sister Labouré following the feelings of her heart, flew to the feet of the Blessed Virgin as a child to its mother, she knelt down and clasping her hands placed them on her knees.

We shall let her relate in her simple words what then took place: “I felt at that instant the sweetest emotion of my life; words cannot express it. The Blessed Virgin explained to me how I ought to act in time of trials, and showing me with her left hand the Altar, she told me to go there and open my heart, adding that I would receive there all the consolations I needed. She then added: “My Child, 1 wish to charge you with a mission. You will have much to suffer in the performance of it, but the thought that it will be for the glory of God will enable you to overcome all difficulties. You will be contradicted, but, fear nothing, grace will be given to you; tell every thing that takes place within you with simplicity and confidence. You will see certain things, you will be inspired in your prayers; give an account of every thing to him who has the care of your soul.”

“I then asked the Blessed Virgin to explain the meaning of the things that had been shown to me.”

She answered: “My child, the times are very evil, misfortunes are going to overwhelm France; royalty will be overthrown; the whole world will be disturbed by all sorts of calamities.” (The Blessed Virgin looked very sad while saying this) “But come,” she added, “to the foot of this altar. There graces will be showered on you, and on all those who shall ask for them, rich or poor.

“A time will come when the danger will be great; it will seem as if all were lost; then 1 will be with you, have confidence, you will feel that I am present and that God and Saint Vincent are protecting the two communities: (The Priests of the Mission, and the Daughters of Charity.) Have confidence, do not be discouraged, I will be with you.”

“There will be victims in other communities. (The Blessed Virgin had tears in her eyes in saying this.)

“There will be victims in the clergy of Paris. The Archbishop will die. (So saying, she wept.) My child, she continued, the cross will be despised and trodden under foot, Our Lord’s side will be opened again; the streets will run with blood; the whole world will be in sorrow.” (Again the Blessed Virgin’s eyes filled with tears and grief was pictured on her face.) At these words, Sister Catherine said to herself: “When will these things happen?” And an interior light distinctly indicated to her that it would be in forty years from that time, thus announcing the sad event of 1870–1871.

Our Blessed Lady charged her again to transmit to her director several recommendations regarding the community of the sisters of Charity and to tell him that he would be one day in a position which would enable him to execute her commands. Then she continued:-―But great misfortunes will happen, the danger will be great, but do not be afraid, she again said, the protection of God is always there in a special manner and Saint Vincent will take care of you. (The Blessed Virgin looked sad the whole time.) I will be with you myself; my eyes are always upon you, I will grant you many graces.”

The Sister added: “Our Blessed Lady said: Graces will be bestowed upon all those who ask for them ; but people must pray . . . a great deal.

°’ I cannot tell,” she goes on to say, “how long I remained near the Blessed Virgin, all I know is that after speaking to her a long time, she went away vanishing like a shadow.”

When Sister Catherine rose from her knees, she found the child in the place where she had left him when going up to the Blessed Virgin. He said to her: ―She is gone!” And placing himself again on her left, he conducted her back to the dormitory in the same way that he had brought her, shedding around him a heavenly light.

―1 thought, continued the Sister, that this child was my Guardian Angel, because I had often asked him to obtain me the favour of seeing Our Blessed Lady . . .

In returning to bed, I heard the clock strike two and I could not sleep again.”

SECOND APPARITION OF THE BLESSED VIRGIN

What has just been related, was only a part of Sister Catherine’s mission; or rather a preparation for the more important communication that was going to be given her, as a pledge of Our Lady’s tenderness for all men.

Towards the end of November in this same year 1830, Sister Catherine gave to her director M. Aladel an account of another supernatural manifestation which she had: This time, Our Blessed Virgin did not appear as an afflicted mother grieving at the thought of the sorrows weighing upon her children, weeping over the victims selected among her best friends. She shone as the rainbow after the storm bright as the star of the ocean in the midst of the tempest guiding home the wandering sailor; Powerful as the Virgin Queen bringing forth the promises of blessings, salvation and peace.

Here is the narration written by Sister Catherine’s own hand: “On the 27th of November 1830, which was a Saturday, and the eve of the first Sunday of Advent, at half-past five in the evening whilst making my meditation in the chapel, I heard on the right side of the sanctuary, a noise like the rustling of a silk dress. All at once, I perceived Our Blessed Lady standing near the picture of Saint Joseph; she was of a middle size and her face indescribably beautiful. She was dressed in a gold coloured gown, very plain high necked, with flat sleeves. Her head was covered with a white veil which floated over her shoulders down to her feet. Her hair was parted, and confined in a sort of fillet trimmed with narrow lace. Her face was not concealed. Her feet rested on a globe, or rather one half of a globe, for this was all that could be seen. Her hands which were on a level with her waist, held in an easy manner another globe (a figure of the world). Her eyes were raised to heaven, and her countenance beamed with light while she offered the globe to Our Lord.

“Suddenly her fingers were covered with rings (1) and beautiful precious stones. Rays of dazzling light darted out (1) On each finger the Blessed Virgin wore three rings of different sizes; the largest was near her hand; a lesser one in the middle, and then a smaller one; each ring was covered with precious stones: the largest ones shot forth beams of dazzling light whilst the smaller ones were not so bright. of them, and the whole of her figure was enveloped in such radiance that her feet and dress were no longer visible. ―The jewels varied in size as did also the rays of light they threw out.” Sister Catherine declared herself unable to say what she felt and learned during that short space of time.

“As I was busy contemplating her, the Blessed Virgin fixed her eyes upon me, and I heard an interior voice which said: “This globe which you see represents the world especially France, and each person in particular.”

―It is beyond my power to give an idea of the beauty and magnificence of the rays. The Blessed Virgin added: “Behold the symbol of the graces which 1 will bestow upon all those who ask for them; “this made me understand how generous she is towards those who pray to her and how many graces she grants to those who ask her for them with confidence! . . . At this moment, I cannot say if I were alive or not, all I know is I was happy!

“After a while, a sort of oval frame surrounded the Blessed Virgin on which were written in gold letters these words:

“O Mary conceived without sin, pray for us who have recourse to thee.”

“Then a voice said to me: “Get a medal struck after this model; those who wear it when it is blessed will receive great graces, especially if they wear it round their neck; Graces will be abundant for those who have confidence.”

“At the same instant the oval frame seemed to turn round. Then I saw on the back of it the letter M, surmounted by a cross, with a crossbar beneath it, and under the monogram of the name of Mary, the Holy Hearts of Jesus and of His Mother; the first surrounded by a crown of thorns and the second transpierced by a sword.”

No mention is made in Sister Catherine’s notes of the twelve stars which surrounded the monogram of Mary and the two Hearts. However they are always figured on the back of the Medal. It is certain that this detail was given by the Sister at the time of the apparitions.

Other notes, written likewise by Sister Catherine complete this narration, adding that some of the precious stones emitted no light and as she was wondering at it, an interior voice. said that these rayless jewels were a figure of the graces that were lost by neglect in asking for them.

THIRD APPARITION OF THE BLESSED VIRGIN

M. Aladel received with indifference, even with severity the communications of his penitent; he even forbade her to believe in them.

She obeyed him as far as she could but notwithstanding all the efforts she made, nothing could efface from her memory all that she had seen and great was her pleasure to think of it at Our Lady’s feet. She felt sure that she would see her again.

Her hope was realized in the course of December: at the afternoon meditation, she had another vision exactly similar, except for one remarkable circumstance, to that of the 27th of November, Our Blessed Lady, instead of remaining near the picture of Saint Joseph, passed before it and stood at the back of the Tabernacle, a little above it, in the place which her statue now occupies.

According to Sister Labouré, the Blessed Virgin appeared to be about forty years old. The apparition was encircled as before, above the level of the hands, by the invocation traced in gold letters:

“O Mary conceived without sin, pray for us who have recourse to thee.”

She saw again at the back of this oval the monogram of the Blessed Virgin surmounted by the Cross and beneath it the Sacred Hearts of Jesus and of Mary.

Sister Labouré received again the order to get a medal struck according to the model. Here she ends the account of the vision by these words:

“To say what I learnt at the moment when the Blessed Virgin offered the globe to Our Lord, would be impossible, as it would also be to describe what I felt whilst gazing upon her! “I heard a voice at the bottom of my heart saying: “These rays are the symbol of the graces that Our Blessed Lady obtains for those who ask for them.” And then, contrary, to her usual practice, Catherine, who was little given to indulge in exclamations, gave vent, to a burst of joyful anticipation at the idea of the homage which would be rendered to the Blessed Virgin:

―Oh! how beautiful it will be to hear Mary proclaimed Queen of the Universe, and particularly of France! “The children will cry out: “She is the Queen of each one of us.”

When Sister Labouré related this new apparition of the Medal to M. Aladel, he asked her if she had seen anything, written on the back of the oval such as she had seen around the figure of the Immaculate Virgin.

She answered in the negative. “Well! said he, ask Our Blessed Lady what must be written on the other side.”

The young Sister obeyed, and after praying for a long time; one day during meditation, she heard a voice saying: “The M and the two Hearts speak plainly enough.”

No mention is made of the serpent, but as it has been included in the pictures representing the apparition, there is every reason to believe that she gave directions to that effect by word of mouth, and all doubt on the point is set at rest by what she said to her Superioress in the last year of her life.

.A space of forty-five years had already elapsed since the apparitions, M. Aladel was dead; Sister Catherine had no longer the same repugnance to speak of what had been her lifelong secret. She felt, on the contrary, impelled to reveal to one of her Superiors all that the Blessed Virgin had entrusted her with in order that he might make use of these heavenly communications to reanimate the devotion to the Immaculate Conception. When she had done so her soul seemed unburdened and she was ready to die in peace.

To realize her dearest wishes, the Superioress to whom she had revealed her secret ordered that a statue of the Immaculate Conception holding the globe should be made.

When asked if the serpent was to be represented under the feet of the Blessed Virgin, she answered that in the apparition there was a serpent of a greenish colour, with yellow spots.

She also recommended that the globe placed in Her hands should be surmounted by a small cross; that her features were not to bear a youthful expression but be impressed with a sad look which disappeared during the vision, when her face became enkindled with the flame of divine love at the moment of her prayer.

The attempt succeeded in a satisfactory manner but the shade of the dress, the heavenly brightness of the countenance and the light of the rays, all seemed to be far from reaching the ideal of the beauty described in the apparition. Also when the good Sister was called to give her opinion, her answer revealed that no human art could retrace the celestial model she had described.

It is strange to say that M. Aladel had vainly made the same attempt thirty-five years before, the model chosen was of a smaller size, and represented the vision of the Immaculate Virgin holding the globe, etc, just as Sister Catherine had described it.

The notes containing the directions given by M. Aladel were kept and found to be exactly the same as those of the Sister excepting what concerned the blue cloak. But M. Aladel was greatly dissatisfied with this attempt which gave but a confused idea of the apparition and of all its details. Finally, he resolved to adopt the model already known.

It was difficult indeed to realize the wondrous beauty, the sweet expression that shone in the majestic attitude of the Virgin, represented with her eyes beaming with love, her blessed hands loaded with treasures of mercy strewing them as a fond mother on all her children.

MARVELLOUS PROPAGATION OF THE MEDAL CALLED THE MIRACULOUS MEDAL

ON ACCOUNT OF THE EXTRAORDINARY GRACES AND CURES OBTAINED BY ITS MEANS

Catherine Labouré was eagerly pressed to get the medal struck conformably to what Our Blessed Lady had asked, in honour of her Immaculate Conception but she found great difficulties on account of her wise Director, who wished to take every possible precaution against deception and who only yielded to the pressing solicitations of his penitent after having taken the advice of competent persons and received the approval of Mgr de Quélen, archbishop of Paris.

On the 30” Of June 1832, the first medals were struck. The engraving bore the image of Mary Immaculate crushing the head of the serpent under her feet. Rays of light issued from her outstretched hands and fell on the terrestrial globe on which she stood. This design was surrounded by these words: “O Mary, conceived without sin, pray for us who have recourse to thee.”

On the other side of the medal, was the monogram of Mary surmounted by a cross and underneath it two Hearts, the one encompassed with a crown of thorns and the other transpierced by a sword.

In the meantime all these events soon showed the heavenly origin of Sister Catherine’s mission. As soon as the new medal was struck it was distributed to numberless persons who were eager to wear it as a safeguard against evil and as a proof of their love towards the Holy Virgin.

The Miraculous Medal quickly spread all over France and by the encouragement of the Bishops, it soon made its way through the whole world, and has since been looked upon as a means destined by Providence to increase devotion to the Blessed Virgin to obtain bodily relief and also as a powerful remedy against all the evils of the soul.

Thus is the glory of Mary proclaimed in the fourth lesson of the office of the feast instituted by the Holy See in honour of the Manifestation of the Immaculate Virgin Mary under the title of the Miraculous Medal.

Of all the facts recorded in the fifth lesson of the same office, that relating to the conversion of Alphonse Ratisbonne is worthy of notice.

It happened on the 13th of February 1842 and has been sanctioned by ecclesiastical authority.

Alphonse Ratisbonne was born at Strasbourg and belonged to a Jewish family. Having undertaken a voyage in the east, he stopped on his way to visit Rome, and there became acquainted with M. T. de Bussiere a convert most ardent in his devotion to the Church.

The latter pitied his unfortunate friend and resolved to lose no opportunities of impressing upon him the necessity of becoming a Catholic. At last seeing that all his arguments were received with a scornful smile by M. Ratisbonne, he resolved to argue no further but felt suddenly, inspired to offer him a miraculous Medal, which he begged him to wear round his neck, and to this M. Ratisbonne consented rather reluctantly. In the meantime, prayers were said for him, and they did not remain long unanswered.

One day Alphonse entered by chance into Saint Andrew’s church erected in the quarter formerly called Delle Fratte. It was about midday. Suddenly he felt a great emotion. It seemed to him as if the whole building disappeared and the light was concentrated in the chapel dedicated to Saint-Michael. Seized with fear, he raised his eyes when all at once in the midst of all this radiance Our Blessed Lady appeared tall, majestic, full of sweetness, exactly as she is represented on the Medal. The celestial vision changed the disposition of his heart; falling on his knees, he burst into tears and was instantaneously converted from Judaism to Catholicism. After a few days’ instruction, he was received into the Church and became by the waters of baptism, a child of God, and an heir of heaven.

DEVELOPMENT OF THE DEVOTION TO THE IMMACULATE CONCEPTION

The principal object of the apparition of the Blessed Virgin to Sister Catherine seems to have been the increase of devotion amongst the faithful to the Immaculate Conception. The medal was the instrument which served this purpose. Its influence was so rapid and so striking that the Promoter charged by Mgr de Quélen to direct the Canonical Inquiry in the diocese of Paris, did not hesitate to ascribe to it the movement which had awakened in all hearts the devotion to the Immaculate Virgin and which in every part of the world was becoming more marked.

Towards the end of 1836, M. Dufriche-Desgenettes, parish priest of Notre Dame des Victoires, at Paris established in his church the celebrated Arch-Confraternity of the Most Holy and Immaculate Heart of Mary. Whilst he was attached to the church of Saint Francis Xavier, the Sisters of the Mother-house in the rue du Bac, were his parishioners. He had been, of course, amongst the first to be informed of the apparition in their chapel. In his joy and thankfulness for that marvellous grace he was most eager in distributing the Miraculous Medal.

He had earnestly desired that the Chapel honoured by Mary’s presence should become a place of pious pilgrimages, but unable to obtain this privilege, he was chosen by Providence to meet the want by erecting the Confraternity of the Most Holy and Immaculate Heart of Mary. When he saw the Sisters of charity kneeling at the foot of the Altar of the Sacred Heart of Mary, at Notre Dame de Victoires, he used to say to them: “My good Sisters, I love to see you in my dear Church; but your chapel ought to be the real place of pilgrimage, it is there the Blessed Virgin showed herself.”

In the first Manifestation the Blessed Virgin announced the misfortunes threatening France. Sixteen years later the Mother of Mercy appeared again to two peasant children on the mountain of La Salette and renewed in a solemn manner the same warning she had given to the humble Sister of Charity. This event gave new extension to the devotion towards Our Blessed Lady and reminded the faithful of the necessity of earnest prayers and penitential works to appease the wrath of God.

In 1830, Sister Catherine said to her confessor: “It is the Blessed Virgin’s wish that you should found a congregation; you will be its Superior. It is to be a confraternity of Children of Mary; the Blessed Virgin will give them many graces and to you also, Indulgences will be granted to it. The month of Mary will be celebrated with great splendour. Mary will bestow abundant blessings.”

In 1847 the prediction was realized: M. Etienne who was then the Superior-General of the Lazarists and consequently of the Sisters of Charity, made a journey to Rome, and there he obtained from the Sovereign Pontiff, for himself and his successors the privilege of establishing in the schools directed by the Sisters of Charity a pious confraternity under the title of the Immaculate Conception of the Blessed Virgin, to which were attached all the indulgences granted to a Congregation of the Blessed Virgin established at Rome by the Society of Jesus for their students. The children of Mary of this congregation adopted the Miraculous Medal as their special badge, and wear it attached to a blue ribbon. Owing to the blessings given to this Association by Pius IX, it rapidly spread all over the world.

Then came the proclamation of the dogma of the Immaculate Conception, for which the Miraculous Medal had been a preparation, as the apparition of the Immaculate Virgin in the grotto of Lourdes was afterwards its confirmation.

But whilst the Miraculous Medal was propagated and wrought wonders of all kinds, Sister Catherine lived quietly fulfilling the duties of her vocation at the Hospice d’Enghien and, by a prodigy of humility, none of her companions ever knew until her death the secret she had kept so faithfully.

DEATH OF SISTER CATHERINE LABOUR

Sister Labouré took the holy habit in the course of January 1831, and was placed under the name of Sister Catherine, at the hospital of Enghien, in the faubourg Saint-Antoine at Paris.

At first she was employed in the kitchen and the laundry, then for forty years she had the care of the old men, inmates of the House, and to this was added that of the poultry-yard. These humble occupations suited her taste and she never felt happier than when among her old patients and her chickens; each in their measure were the objects of her solicitude. Nothing in her attracted particular notice, she was very pious but without pretence; the only remark her Superioress made, was how devoutly she recited the Rosary.

Thus she lived in the hospital of Enghien for forty-six years.

Ever since the beginning of the year 1876 Sister Catherine often spoke of her death. On each of the festivals, she said to her companions: “This is the last time I shall be with you on this day.” And if they did not seem to believe it, she would add: “Depend upon it certainly. I shall not see the year 1877.‖

During the last months she was obliged to keep her bed and give up all her active occupations.

A few days before her death, she said to one of her companions: ―I shall go to Reuilly.” It is the name of the house separated from the Hospice d’Enghien by a spacious garden. “Why to Reuilly? her companion answered; you would not have the courage to leave your Enghien, which you love so dearly and have never left!-―I tell you that I will go to Reuilly!-But when? -Ah! that is the question!” said Sister Catherine in a mysterious and confident tone which puzzled her companion. Soon after she said again: “There will be no need of a hearse when I am buried.—Oh! indeed, replied the Sister. -No hearse will be required, the sick Sister reasserted. -But how will they be able to do without it?- They will put me in the chapel at Reuilly.” These words quickly struck her companion.

Everything was realized as she had foretold. On the 31st of December, she had several fainting fits. Her companions fearing the end proposed that she should receive the last sacraments. It was with a wonderful peace and happiness she received them, and then she asked those around her to recite the litany of the Immaculate Conception. She often repeated this invocation: “Terror of evil spirits, pray for us.” She often exclaimed with an accent of deep tenderness: “My dear Community! My dear Mother-House!” One of her companions said to her with a tone of deep sadness: “Sister Catherine, are you going to leave me without saying a word of the Blessed Virgin?” Then the dying Sister bent towards her and spoke in a low voice for some time, all at once adding: “I ought not to speak, it is M. Chevalier who has the mission to do so.”

After the death of M. Aladel, M. Chevalier, the first assistant to the Congregation of the Mission and Director General of the Sisters of Charity had become the depositary of all Sister Catherine’s secrets.

At four o’clock in the afternoon another fainting fit brought all the Community together round Sister Catherine’s bed. They remained there in prayer until seven o’clock, when she seemed to sink into a deep slumber, without the least struggle or agony.

She soon afterwards breathed her last. Her soul had taken its flight to heaven to enjoy the presence of Jesus and of His Immaculate Mother.

Feast of the Manifestation of the Immaculate Virgin Mary under the title of the Miraculous Medal. At the request of M. Antoine Fiat, Superior General of the Congregation of the Missionaries of Saint Vincent of

Paul, and of the Sisters of Charity, the Sovereign Pontiff has just granted a signal favour.

“It was fitting” says the Church in the office of the Immaculate Virgin Mary under the title of the Miraculous

Medal, “that the maternal love which Mary manifested with so much power and liberality by the means of the Holy

Medal should not be forgotten, and that at the same time the devotion to the Immaculate Conception amongst christian people ought to be furthered and increased. In order to attain these ends, the Apostolic See wished that, as had already been granted in the case of the Rosary and of the Scapular of Mount Carmel, a special feast should be celebrated each year in commemoration of the apparition of the most Blessed Mother of God, and of her Holy Medal. Wherefore, after a most careful examination of all the facts by the Sacred Congregation of Rites, and in accordance with the favourable decision thereof, Leo XIII, Supreme Pontiff, has authorised for the Congregation of the Priests of

Saint Vincent of Paul always faithful to the traditions of its holy founder in the profession of devotion to the Immaculate Conception of Mary, a special Office and a Mass of the Manifestation of the Blessed Virgin Immaculate under the title of the Miraculous Medal. A similar favour will be granted to the Bishops and Religious Families who will ask for it.

In accordance with the Decree of July23rd 1894, this solemn feast, with Office and proper Mass, “will be celebrated yearly by the Priests of the Congregation of the Mission, under the rite of second class, and under the rite of double major by the Ordinaries and religious Communities who shall have asked it.” By another decree of the Sacred

Congregation of Rites in date of September 7th 1894 any priest is allowed to say this same proper Mass in any chapel attached to the houses of the Sisters of Charity.

The traditions of the two families of Saint Vincent, mentioned in the office of this feast are deeply impressed with filial love towards the Immaculate Virgin. When in the year 1836, Mgr de Quélen opened the Inquiry into the origin of the Miraculous Medal, the promoter wondered why the Sisters of Charity had been selected by God for so great a favour.

He considered that the cause of this preference might be discovered in two practices observed by the Sisters of

Charity from the very beginning of their Society.

The first was that of making an act of consecration to the Blessed Virgin on the Feast of the Immaculate

Conception; and the second that of adding the following profession of faith on that point after each decade of the

Rosary: ― Most Holy Virgin, I believe and confess your holy and Immaculate Conception, pure and without stain. O most pure Virgin, by your virginal purity, by your Immaculate Conception and your glorious title of Mother of God, obtain for me from your dear Son, humility, charity, a great purity of heart, of body, and of’ mind, a holy perseverance to my dear vocation, the gift of Prayer, a good life and a holy death.

INDULGENCES

A plenary Indulgence applicable to the Souls in Purgatory is granted by His Holiness Leo XIII to all the faithful, who being sincerely contrite and having approached the Sacraments of Penance and Holy Communion, visit any church or oratory attached to the houses of the Priests of the Mission or of the Sisters of Charity, in all parts of the world, on the feast of the Manifestation of the Immaculate Virgin, under the title of the Miraculous Medal, that is to say on the 27th of November of each year, from the first vespers to sunset of the Feast, provided, they pray according to the intentions of the Sovereign Pontiff.

(Brief of the 24th of August 1894.)

A partial Indulgence of a hundred days is granted once a day to all those who recite devoutly the invocation: O Mary, conceived without sin, pray for us who have recourse to thee.

(Leo XIII, March 15th )

PRAYER

(Collect of the Mass)

O Lord Jesus Christ, who hast vouchsafed to glorify by numberless miracles the Blessed Virgin Mary, immaculate from the first moment of her Conception, grant that all who devoutly implore her protection on earth, may eternally enjoy Thy presence in heaven. Who, with the Father and Holy Ghost livest and reignest, God, for ever and ever. Amen.

Imprimatur:

@ RENE-FRANCOIS, Ep. Ambian.

********

The Mormons Or Latter-Day Saints

BY REV. DR. L. RUMBLE, M.S.C

INDEX

I am writing this pamphlet from a sense of duty towards the Latter-Day Saints themselves, even more than towards others who might be interested in the study of a religion so remarkable both in its nature and achievements. For I am convinced that many good and sincere believers in the Book of Mormon, professing as they do to be Christians, are really unaware of the real implications the teachings they have taken for granted until now. Nor do I think for a moment that they would wish to regard as an explanation of the religion of Christ what is in reality a contradiction of that religion-if indeed it be such.

I, of course, hold that Mormon beliefs, differing as they do from the beliefs of Christians during two thousand years, and depending as they do on interpretations of the Bible opposed to those of all great Christian scholars, ancient and modern, are irreconcilable with the Christian Faith.

But whilst that will account for any apparent lack of sympathy on my part with the religious system I discuss, it does not mean that I have at any time consciously ignored the demands of accuracy; and still less does it imply that I am wanting in charity towards the persons of Mormons themselves. Were I wanting in that, this particular pamphlet would never have been written at all.

MISSIONARIES FROM UTAH

Quite recently, two young Americans came to the door, asking to see me. They were shown into the reception room, and when I entered a few moments later rose to introduce themselves in a most gentlemanly and courteous manner. They told me that they were missionaries from Utah, representing the Church of” Jesus Christ of the Latter- Day Saints, and that they had been advised by a Catholic man to seek information from me that they had been unable to obtain from him.

“Then you are Mormons,” I said.

“We are popularly described in that way,” the elder of the two replied, “but we prefer the title “Latter-Day Saints.” Although we accept the Book of Mormon, the official description of our Church is that which we have given you.”

When we were seated, they told me their story. In going from door to door, asking people to consider their explanation of a new religious dispensation for Christians, they could not but be struck by their inability to make any impression at all on Catholic people. With others, often there was interest, always uncertainty. But Catholics just did not want to hear about other religions. And it was when they had asked one Catholic man how he could possibly reconcile the certainty he had of his own faith with the clear teachings of the Catholic Bible itself that they had been referred to me.

The younger of the two thereupon produced a copy of the Douay Version of the Bible, in which what they considered the important verses telling against orthodox Christian Churches and in favour of Mormonism had been underlined in variously coloured inks. I had to tell them that I had no intention whatever of entering a discussion about the meaning of a multitude of texts in the brief time at our disposal. But I agreed to give them the explanation for which they said they had come, making clear to them the attitude the vast majority of Catholics at once adopt towards efforts to win them to any other religion. And I put before them briefly the scriptural, historical and rational foundations for the Catholic conviction that if the Catholic Church is not the one true Church of Jesus Christ, no true Church in accordance with biblical requirements exists at all.

They listened patiently, even intently. They did not resent my suggesting that their own qualifications could scarcely be expected to carry weight against the teaching authority of the One Holy Catholic and Apostolic Church of all the centuries. They candidly admitted their own lack of biblical scholarship, and their ignorance of the history of the Christian Church since apostolic times. They merely said that they believed in the particular historical episodes narrated in the Book of Mormon, and in the divine revelations claimed by their prophet, Joseph Smith, and continued amongst the Latter-Day Saints. They had been taught these; had never seen any reason to doubt them; and had been sent out from Utah to explain their doctrines to all men of goodwill.

They left, apologizing for having taken up my time, and saying that they realized the need of going more deeply into the matter. In turn, I myself determined to have a closer look at their Mormonism, and am setting out the results of my study for the use of others interested in the subject and not least, as I have said, for the benefit of Mormons themselves.

THE PROPHET, JOSEPH SMITH

The Church of Jesus Christ of the Latter-Day Saints is so named because it claims to offer the fullness of the revelation God has given to mankind through Jesus Christ -a fullness which has been reserved for these latter days, and for the “saints” or those willing to become disciples of the new teachings as explained by Joseph Smith.

Obviously we must begin by asking who is this Joseph Smith. And we run into difficulties at once, for we have to make up our minds whether his life story reveals a man who seems the kind of person God would have chosen for such a mission.

Joseph Smith, the son of a farmer, was born at Sharon, Vermont, U.S.A., on December 23rd, 1805. The family moved to Palmyra, N.Y., in 1815, and four years later to the little town of Manchester, Ontario County, N.Y. All biographers agree that Joseph received little or no education in the scholastic sense of the word. Mormons themselves, as we shall see, are most insistent on this.

Nervous, he was highly strung and subject to epileptic fits which he later called trances, and during which he claimed that heavenly visions came to him. But he proved himself so shrewd a schemer and so little endowed with any sense of veracity that it is impossible to take his word for the reality of his experiences. Dr. Edward Fairfield, one-time President of Michigan College, said that three witnesses who had personally known Joseph Smith from ten years of age onwards told him that “he was simply a notorious liar.” But why should he have turned his attention to the religious field at all?

To understand that, we must remember that during the first half of the nineteenth century a wave of evangelical enthusiasm was sweeping through America. Methodists, Campbellites, Congregationalists, Millerites, Shakers and others followed one upon another with revival meetings, setting whole districts in a religious ferment and awakening the most violent controversies. Frenzy and hysteria became the order of the day. New religions -freak cults with crazy beliefs-sprang up like mushrooms during that emotional period. And the excitable Joseph Smith was not unaffected by the prevailing atmosphere of superstition and credulity.

In this setting, there came to Manchester an ex-Baptist revivalist preacher named Sydney Rigdon, who had joined the Campbellites. Rigdon was a well-educated man, intelligent, and endowed with a great facility in quoting the Scriptures. But the thought came to him that, instead of preaching Alexander Campbell’s doctrines, he might just as well set up as a master in Israel and preach his own system. So he decided to give the world a totally new revelation. In Joseph Smith, whom he met at this time, he found a willing co-operator, though in the end it was he who was reduced to co-operation with Joseph Smith. For Joseph Smith had the necessary psychopathic qualities for a “visionary” which Rigdon lacked.

MYSTIC EXPERIENCES

Joseph tells us that, about the year 1820, being but fourteen years of age at the time, he had his first vision. He declares that, amidst all the conflicting claims of the different Protestant sects, he was concerned as to what Church he should join. He gave himself to earnest prayer, during which God the Father and Jesus Christ simultaneously appeared to him and told him “none,” since all existent Churches were wrong.

Three years later, according to his own account, he was visited by an angel named Moroni. This angel told him that there was a book of golden plates, giving an account of the former inhabitants of America and containing the fullness of the everlasting gospel as revealed to them. These plates were buried in the earth. Joseph Smith was the one appointed to unearth them, and with them he would find two magic transparent stones in silver frames which God had. prepared to enable him to translate the writing on the plates. However, he was not to attempt to recover the plates until four years later. Then the angel gave him a vision of the place so that he would be able to recognize it later on when there.

Needless to say, Joseph Smith was quite excited by the thought that he had been chosen to re-establish the real Church of Jesus Christ on earth. But he possessed his soul in patience until., the four years having elapsed, he went at the angel’s command and found the plates on the west side of the hill Cumorah, four miles from Palmyra, near the road to Manchester. The “spectacles” were with them. They enabled him miraculously to read the foreign-looking language engraved on the plates, understanding it in English. So he went off with the plates and spectacles, dictated a translation to scribes, and when he had finished found himself ordered to hand back the plates and the spectacles to the angel Moroni, who took them away forever from this world!

These claims are so extravagant that there scarcely seems need to refute them; yet all who become Mormons, even to this day, are expected to accept them. So we must go a little more deeply into the matter.

THE GOLDEN PLATES

According to Joseph Smith, the plates he found were engraved in an unknown language; but with the help of the “spectacles,” which he called “Urim” and “Thummim,” he was able to decipher and translate the inscriptions into English.

The “unknown language” has never been identified. Mormons have since said that it was “Reformed Egyptian,” but it has been proved that there never was a “Reformed Egyptian” style of hieroglyphics. Joseph Smith declares that he showed a copy of the characters which he had drawn from the plates-not the plates themselves -to a Professor Charles Anthon, in New York; and that Professor Anthon assured him that the characters were Egyptian, Chaldaic, Assyrian and Arabic. According to Smith, Professor Anthon even gave him a certificate to that effect, but took it back and tore it up when told that an angel had revealed the location of the plates. Only for that, the certificate would be available to this day! Unfortunately, Professor Anthon issued a statement later, admitting that Smith had brought him a copy of strange characters which he claimed to be an ancient language, but declaring “a very brief investigation convinced me that it was a mere hoax, and a very clumsy one too.” And Martin Harris, one of Smith’s official witnesses, gave evidence that such was indeed the verdict expressed by Professor Anthon at the time!

To the challenge that no one ever saw the golden plates at all, and that there was only his word for it that he himself did, Joseph Smith produced the sworn testimony of witnesses who declared that they had been shown the actual golden plates and had seen “the engraving thereon.” But it is a striking fact that all three of his main witnesses, Oliver Cowdery, David Whitmer and Martin Harris, forsook the original Mormon Church. Had they really believed in its divine origin they would not have done that. But Mormons today, admitting their apostasy, claim that at least they never retracted their testimony. They may persuade themselves to that effect, but Professor Fraser, of Chicago University, after examining the question, wrote, “This testimony all three, on renouncing Mormonism, denounced as false; but meanwhile it helped Smith to impose on the credulous, particularly in the absence of the gold plates themselves, which suddenlyand mysteriously disappeared.” Martin Harris, who returned to Mormonism later, reaffirmed his testimony; but when pressed under cross-examination said that the plates were never exposed before his very eyes. They were covered with a cloth, but he was given a supernatural vision of them beneath the cloth!

So much for the legend of the golden plates which Mormons still accept, but which critical historians declare to be utterly incredible and unsupported by anything that could pass muster as genuine evidence.

THE BOOK OF MORMON

It is now time to turn to the message, so vital to humanity, which Joseph Smith claims to have derived from the plates.

He commenced dictating his translation from them to scribes at Manchester in 1827, according to his own account, and finished the work at Fayette, N.Y., in 1829. No mention is made of any part in the work by Sidney Rigdon, the revivalist preacher who had such a facility in the quoting of Scripture. The completed work was published as the “Book of Mormon” in 1830.

In it we are given the astonishing information to be found in no other historical records, that the American Indians are really the descendants of the lost ten tribes of Israel; that Jesus Christ personally visited and preached His gospel in America; and that the Indians at one time had a full Christian civilization, but completely lost it!

The story begins with the confusion of tongues at the Tower of Babel, about 2,200 B.C. Some of the people then dispersed found their way to North America and were known as Jaredites. However, the Jaredites were supplanted by an invasion of Israelites some 1500 years later. Here is how it happened.

About the seventh century B.C. there was a Hebrew man named Lehi who, with his wife and children, lived in Jerusalem. This man was commanded by God to flee into a far country. With his wife and children and a band of followers he crossed the ocean in a boat and landed in America. There the new colonists multiplied and prospered. When Lehi died, however, God appointed his youngest son, Nephi, to be head of the tribe. Another son, Laman, who was older, resented this; and the descendants of the two sons, the Nephites and the Lamanites were constantly at war.

To the Nephites, as God’s chosen people, Christ came after His resurrection, to establish His Church with their help in America, as He had founded it in Palestine. From amongst the Nephites He chose another twelve apostles, and appointed as well prophets, pastors, teachers and evangelists, leaving an organized Church which flourished for nearly 200 years. But, alas, the Nephites did not remain faithful. They forfeited their inheritance by their transgressions and were destroyed by the Lamanites, who in turn degenerated into the wild Indian tribes of North America.

However, forthe sake of the “latter days,” the last of the Nephi prophets, Mormon, had been commanded by God to engrave on golden plates a record of God’s dealings with His people and of His revelations, a record to be hidden in the earth until it should come forth and be united with the Bible as another sacred book for the accomplishment of God’s purposes. Mormon’s son, Moroni, after adding some personal recollections, buried the golden plates in A.D. 420.

Fourteen centuries later, Moroni, now an angel, revealed to a poor, uneducated boy, Joseph Smith, the secret place where the plates had been hidden. The time was ripe for the Latter-Day Saints to inherit the fullness of the true religion, and Joseph Smith was divinely called for the purpose of ushering in the New Dispensation. Obediently, with the help of the magic “spectacles,” he translated the undecipherable “Reformed Egyptian” inscriptions from the golden plates, and gave to mankind the Book of Mormon as an equally inspired and necessary supplement to the Bible.

CRITICAL DIFFICULTIES

Since hundreds of thousands of Mormons do believe in its authenticity, it is inopportune to say that the Book of Mormon is beyond all doubt fraudulent. But the falsity of the book remains at least beyond all doubt save for the victims of blind credulity. The one argument urged by Mormons which at first sight might seem to have weight is the fact that Joseph Smith was quite uneducated, and could not have concocted and written an elaborate book filled with so many historical references and in a consistently foreign style. Such a task would require an able scholar, which Joseph Smith obviously was not. The book, therefore, they say, was clearly divinely inspired.

But that difficulty which Mormons propose to others is as nothing compared with the difficulties confronting Mormons themselves. Passing over the ethnological absurdity of attributing a Jewish ancestry to the American Indians, let us consider a few points derived from a critical examination of the book itself.

On page 14, Nephi declares that the Israelites, on arriving in America in 600 B.C. found amongst the beasts of the forest “the cow and the ox, and the ass and the horse.” But it is certain that these animals are not native to America, having been introduced to that country by Europeans only after its discovery by Columbus in the 15th century A.D. If the book were divinely inspired, that elementary mistake would not have been made.

Again, Mormon is supposed to have engraven his record on the golden plates at least before 420 A.D. when they were entombed. How, then, did Mormon manage to incorporate in II Nephi, 1, 14, an expression clearly borrowed from Shakespeare’s “undiscovered country from whose bourne no traveller returns”? Mormon was writing over a thousand years before Shakespeare was born!

A similar difficulty occurs from the fact that the Book of Mormon contains hundreds of quotations from both the Old and New Testaments, exact verbal transcriptions of the King James” Authorized Version, which was first published in A.D. 1611. Are we to say that, over a thousand years before the King James” Version existed, Mormon carefully translated it into “Reformed Egyptian”? Or will we say more reasonably that whoever wrote the book lived after the King James” Version had been published?

We might also ask how Mormon managed, in the 4th century A.D. to engrave on his golden plates quotations word for word from the “Westminster Confession of Faith,” which was drawn up in the 17th century A.D. Or, again, how the peculiar tenets of an obscure Presbyterian sect which flourished at Geneva, N.Y., in Joseph Smith’s own day became known to Mormon so many centuries earlier; and why, in his “Reformed Egyptian,” he found it necessary, or even possible, to imitate passages from the “Methodist Book of Discipline,” which revivalists had made so much the object of popular discussion in the early years of the 19th century.

These are but a few of the insuperable obstacles to the acceptance of the Book of Mormon as genuine.

But what are we to say to the Mormons” argument that it was impossible for the uneducated Joseph Smith, by any natural powers of his own, to invent such a book?

We can only reply that, not Joseph Smith, but the ex-Baptist, ex-Campbellite revivalist preacher, Sidney Rigdon, who did not lack the necessary knowledge of history, literature and Scripture, was the real author of this fraudulent book in which Campbellite doctrines and phraseology abound. The pathological Joseph Smith had the personality necessary to carry through a brazen imposture for which the scholarly Rigdon lacked the necessary effrontery; and it was essential to the success of the fantastic story of the golden plates that Rigdon should keep in the background.

OTHER SACRED WRITINGS

After publishing the Book of Mormon, Joseph Smith later published what he claimed to be a book written by Abraham, but not included amongst the books of the Old Testament. The sayings he attributed to Abraham were again fictitious. In 1833 he had bought some rolls of papyri from a pedlar of ancient curios named Chandler. These rolls contained some really Egyptian hieroglyphics and drawings. In 1912, long after Smith’s death, these hieroglyphics were submitted to eight outstanding Egyptian scholars, who all declared the figures to represent ordinary Egyptian funeral rites, and that they had nothing whatever to do with Abraham! But Joseph Smith was absolutely ignorant of Egyptian writing and customs.

Later still, he published a book called “The Book of Doctrines and Covenants,” to give the revelations he himself claimed to have received as the appointed prophet for the building up of the Kingdom of God in the last days. This book explains doctrines and duties, predicts the Second Advent, and American Zion, and a coming Millennium with Christ ruling the world.

Equipped with the Old and New Testaments, the Book of Mormon, and his “Doctrines and Covenants,” Joseph Smith, with the co-operation of his friend, Sidney Rigdon, felt ready to launch his new religion upon its career; and to a brief account of its remarkable history we must now turn.

HISTORICAL SURVEY

Joseph Smith began to organize his followers into a Church at Palmyra, N.Y., in 1830; but it was at Fayette, N.Y., on April 6th of that year, that the new sect was formally constituted under the title of the Church of Jesus Christ of the Latter-Day Saints.

The strange doctrines of the Mormons, however, awakened much hostility, and opposition forced them to migrate to Kirtland, Ohio, whither they went in January, 1831. Smith decided that Kirtland was to be Zion, or the New Jerusalem, whence Christ would reign after His return to this world. But trouble over a Bank he had established and from which he issued worthless notes made a further revelation expedient indicating that Zion was to be established in Jackson County, Missouri, and not in Ohio. Smith and Rigdon, therefore, led their followers on to Missouri. But the Missourians declared war upon them and the Latter-Day Saints moved off to Illinois, where they founded the city of Nauvoo-a name Smith declared to be Hebrew for “Beautiful Place”-on the banks of the Mississippi, in 1838.

At Nauvoo, in 1843, Smith claimed to have received a revelation commanding plural marriages and acted on it by taking additional wives, disposing of the objections of his lawful wife, Emma, by bidding her submit to the Will of God. But he was not long to enjoy his patriarchal mode of life. The people rose in revolt against Mormon practices. Joseph Smith and his brother Hyrum were arrested and thrown into Cairo gaol to await their trial. The infuriated mob, however, wanted no trial. They broke into the gaol on June 27, 1844, and shot the two brothers dead.

Sidney Rigdon now claimed succession to the Presidency, urging that he had been Smith’s counsellor from the beginning; but Brigham Young, who had joined the Church in 1832, was elected. Brigham Young excommunicated Rigdon and then, to escape further clashes with the law of the land, commenced the migration to far-off Utah in 1847, there to found Salt Lake City on the shores of the Great Salt Lake.

How successful he was is evident from the fact that he died some thirty years later, leaving over a million dollars to seventeen wives and fifty-six children.

For some years the Mormon Church, with the help of migrant converts from overseas, grew phenomenally and built up a self-reliant community in things temporal as well as spiritual, quite isolated from, and independent of the “gentiles.” In 1893, the Temple in Salt Lake City was completed at a cost of three million dollars, and by a system of tithing over four million dollars yearly were gathered in for Church purposes. But the increasing invasion of Utah by the “gentiles,” and business-relationships with them, are resulting in great social changes; whilst the more critical spirit of the modern age has steadily reduced the number of converts to the fantastic religious doctrines of Joseph Smith and Brigham Young. What those religious doctrines are we shall see in due course.

CONFLICTING SECTS

It must be noted here that the Mormons do not form one united body, for they are divided into several independent and conflicting sects.

The Church of Jesus Christ of the Latter-Day Saints, with headquarters at Salt Lake City, Utah, is the largest body, acknowledged by over 2000 congregations, mainly in Utah and Idaho, with a total membership of over 900,000.

The next in size is the “Reorganized Church of Jesus Christ of the Latter-Day Saints,” with headquarters at Independence, Missouri. This Church originated soon after the death of Joseph Smith. For when Brigham Young was elected Leader, a minority protested against his appointment, declaring that Joseph Smith’s son, also named Joseph, was the rightful successor. This minority, under the leadership of Joseph Smith, Jnr., set up in 1853 as an independent Church. The members, often known as “Josephites,” repudiate polygamy, deny that Joseph Smith ever taught it, and assert that Brigham Young was responsible for introducing the disgusting doctrine of plural wives. But there is not the slightest doubt historically that Joseph Smith himself proclaimed the right and duty of polygamy. The “Reorganized Church of Jesus Christ of the LatterDay Saints” claims to be the true successor of the original body, and in a dispute over property in 1894 secured a court verdict to that effect. The “Reorganized Church” has some 200 congregations, with 116,888 members in all.

Another minority group which refused to submit to Brigham Young’s leadership has persisted as “The Church of Christ (Temple Lot).” This group has its headquarters at Bloomington, Illinois; and has 2179 members with 50 churches. The strange title they have assumed comes from their claim to a revelation from God that they are to build a Temple for the New Jerusalem at Independence, Missouri. They bought the ground in 1867, but the “Reorganized Church of Jesus Christ of the LatterDay Saints” won legal possession of the property. The “Church of Jesus Christ (Temple Lot)” still claims it and says it has the duty to build the Temple.

A still smaller group, calling itself simply “The Church of Jesus Christ,” is known as the “Strangites.” This group was founded by James J. Strang at Burlington, Wisconsin, soon after the death of Joseph Smith. Refusing to acknowledge Brigham Young, Strang declared that he had been designated as Smith’s successor by divine revelations both to himself and to Smith. He claimed that his was the only true Mormon Church, but its membership today has dwindled to 123 adherents only!

Smaller still is the “Church of Jesus Christ ( Cutlerites ),” founded in 1853 by Alpheus Cutler, one of Smith’s original Elders, as a result of what he declared to be a direct commission from God. There are but 24 members today who still believe in that direct commission.

Finally, there is the “Church of Jesus Christ (Bickertonites),” founded by William Bickerton at Greenock, Pennsylvania. Bickerton remained a follower of Brigham Young for but a year or two and then, disgusted by Brigham Young’s polygamy, left the Utah foundation and went to Pennsylvania to set up for himself. His variety of Mormonism has about 1550 members, not a very pronounced growth from its origin in 1862! They live in some thirty small communities, each with its own church-building.

Not one of these disputing sects has a better-or a worse-claim than any of the others to represent genuine Mormonism. And all equally fail if the Book of Mormon itself is a fraud. But since nothing succeeds like success, we shall base our study of Mormon doctrines mainly on those of the Utah Church of Jesus Christ of the Latter-Day Saints.

NEW DISPENSATION

Joseph Smith, as we have seen, grew up in an atmosphere of Protestant revivalism, and declared that he was left bewildered by the claims and counter-claims of the conflicting sects. As so many before him, he sought a solution by abandoning all others and setting up a Church of his own-thus adding one more outcrop of Protestantism to increase the confusion that had distressed him in the first place! But at least we can see that Mormonism is entirely the result of Protestant principles of private judgement operating in a purely Protestant environment. Joseph Smith cannot be said to have rejected Catholicism for the simple reason that he knew nothing whatever about it. His movement was a reaction against the confusion of Protestantism, and it was to a fundamentalist type of Protestantism-the only religion he knew-that he added the Book of Mormon and some further revelations which he imagined had been granted to himself.

In his article on “Mormonism” in the Encyclopaedia Britannica, Reed Smoot, ex-Senator of Utah, tells us that Mormonism “does not claim to be a new religion but regards itself as a new dispensation.” He says that there have been manydispensations granted by God from time to time, but that the last dispensation “of the fullness of times” has now been proclaimed through Joseph Smith.

The sources of true doctrine for Mormons are now:

(1) The Jewish and Christian Scriptures; i.e., the Old and New Testaments.

(2) The Book of Mormon.

(3) The Doctrine and Covenants. (Revelations to Joseph Smith).

(4) The Pearl of Great Price. (A collection of writings of Moses and of Abraham not contained in the Bible and further writings by Joseph Smith.)

The doctrine contained in these documents, however, is continually being supplemented by new revelations to Mormons, which have binding force only if officially adopted by a General Conference of the Church.

ALL OTHER APOSTATES!

The consequences of the Mormon claim for all other Churches are rather drastic. For Mormons hold that, from the death of the last of the Apostles, St. John, there has been no divine authority for the administration of the gospel ordinances. No apostolic succession was maintained. All other Churches departed from the original gospel, and all their baptisms and other sacramental rites have been null and void. It is only now, after 1800 years, that the apostolate has been restored in Joseph Smith. He has been given the keys of the Kingdom in the New Dispensation by direct revelation from God. And he has been commanded to gather and build the New Jerusalem in America, to be ready for Christ’s second coming and the Millennium.

We must pause here to notice the inconsistency of professing continued belief in the New Testament and then proceeding to assert the failure of the Church established by Christ personally, the necessity of adding further “inspired” books to the Bible, and the advent of a “new dispensation” ordained by God and given to the world through Joseph Smith!

It is impossible that the Church established by Christ personally could have failed. For He said, “I will build My Church, and the gates of hellshall not prevail against it.” (Matt. 16: 18.) If we believe in Christ at all, we have to believe that no forces of evil have succeeded in prevailing against the Church He established. But the gates of hell would have prevailed against it if the whole Church through all the ages until the arrival of Joseph Smith had apostatized! If it be said that the promise of Christ did not exclude failure for a time, provided the Church was eventually restored, what becomes of Christ’s promise to the Apostles, “Behold I am with you all days, even to the consummation of the world?” (Matt. 28: 20.)

Again, all talk of an additional revelation and of a “New Dispensation” is utterly opposed to the clear teaching of the New Testament. For there we are told that the fullness of revelation and the absolutely final dispensation for mankind were given in and through Christ Himself.

Thus we read that God, Who spoke in times past by the prophets, “last of all in these days hath spoken to us by His Son.” (Heb. 1: 1–2.) “Last of all” does not leave room for “later on through Joseph Smith.”

Dealing with this matter in the parable of the wicked husbandmen, Christ Himself describes the position by saying of the owner of the vineyard who had sent a series of lesser messengers in vain, “Having yet one son, most dear to him, he also sent him unto them last of all saying: They will reverence my son. But the husbandmen said one to another: This is the heir; come let us kill him and the inheritance shall be ours.” (Mark 12: 6–7.) There was no room in the mind of Christ for any further dispensation to be granted in later ages.

We are told also that the whole body of revealed truth was given to the Apostles, to be guarded and handed on by them and by their successors, that it might be preached to the uttermost ends of the earth. “All things whatsoever I have heard of My Father I have made known to you.” ( John 15: 15.) Christ did not say, “I have kept back a good deal which will be published later on in the Book of Mormon!” His was not a partial revelation such as was given through the prophets of old, but unique and complete. And He bade His Apostles, “Go teach all nations . . . to observe all things whatsoever I have commanded you.” He did not add, “Except in America, where I am going to appear to the Nephites after My resurrection, choosing another set of Apostles from among them to establish a Church there for Me!”

As for the Mormon claim that the “fullness of times” came only with Joseph Smith, St. Paul told the Galatians that the “fullness of times” had already come with the birth of Christ. “When the fullness of time was come,” he wrote, “God sent His Son, made of a woman.” (Gal. 4: 4.)

Our duty as Christians is “to contend earnestly for the faith once delivered to the saints.” (Jude: 3.) That is, to maintain intact, without alterations or additions, the doctrines taught to the first Christians by the Apostles. The Mormon idea that Christ gave only a partial teaching, to be completed by Joseph Smith, is impossible for one who believes in the New Testament and wants to deserve the name of Christian.

But if Mormonism fails in its claim to be the revelation of a new dispensation, things become still worse when we turn to its exposition of the individual Christian teachings it professes to accept.

ARTICLES OF BELIEF

One of the last things Joseph Smith did before he was murdered in 1844 was to write an article for a “History of the Religious Denominations in the United States,” explaining the faith of the Mormon Church. His declaration is as follows:

WE BELIEVE in God the Eternal Father, and in His Son Jesus Christ, and in the Holy Ghost. WE BELIEVE that men will be punished for their own sins, and not for Adam’s transgression. WE BELIEVE that through the atonement of Christ all mankind may be saved, by obedience to the laws and ordinances of the gospel.

WE BELIEVE that these ordinances are (1) Faith in the Lord Jesus Christ. (2) Repentance. (3) Baptism by immersion for the remission of sins. (4) Laying on of hands for the Gift of the Holy Ghost.

WE BELIEVE that a man must be called of God by “prophecy and laying on of hands” by those who are in authority, to preach the gospel and administer the ordinances thereof.

WE BELIEVE in the same organization that existed in the primitive Church, viz., apostles, prophets, pastors, teachers, evangelists, etc.

WE BELIEVE in the gifts of tongues, prophecy, revelation, visions, healings, interpretations of tongues, etc. WE BELIEVE the Bible to be the Word of God, as far as it is translated correctly.

WE ALSO BELIEVE the Book of Mormon to be the Word of God.

WE BELIEVE all that God has revealed, all that He does not reveal, and we believe that He will yet reveal many great and important things pertaining to the Kingdom of God.

WE BELIEVE in the literal gathering of Israel and in the restoration of the ten tribes; that Zion will be built upon this Continent; that Christ will reign personally upon the earth, and that the earth will be renewed and will reach its paradisaic glory.

In the main, the above articles of faith are but a summary of the ordinary evangelical Protestantism with which Joseph Smith was already familiar, save for his exclusion of the effects of original sin and his insistence on the acceptance of the Book of Mormon as the Word of God equally with the Bible, on divine revelations yet to be given, and on the establishing of Zion in America. Of the polygamy he had already proclaimed necessary he makes no mention for the purpose of publicity in the History of the Religious Denominations in the United States.

What needs to be stressed above all, however, is that, whilst Joseph Smith in his statement speaks the language of evangelical Protestantism, Mormons by no means intend the words even in an orthodox Protestant sense.

GOD, MAN, AND CHRIST

For example, Smith’s first article looks like a profession of faith in the Christian doctrine of the Holy Trinity. But it is really nothing of the kind. For Mormonism, according to its official teachings, is not a Christian but a polytheistic sect, teaching a doctrine of many gods of unequal rank. Joseph Smith taught that “God Himself was once as we are now, and is an exalted man.” According to Brigham Young, in order to create man, which could only be done by physical generation, God came into this world as Adam “with a celestial body, bringing one of his wives, Eve.” Adam, he therefore says, “is our Father and our God, and the only God with whom we have to do.” (Brigham Young, Journal of Discourses, Vol. 6. p. 50.) Adam is the “only” God with whom we have to do because above Adam there is Jehovah, and above Jehovah, Elohim the greatest of all Gods! Christ, as the Eternal Son of God (of which God it is difficult to say) is not of the same substance as the Father, whilst the Holy Ghost is described at times, not as a Person but as an “influence,” a “divine fluid,” the purest and most refined of all electric or magnetic substances! It is true that Mormons today generallyreject Brigham Young’s “Adam-God” theory, but they forget that, according to their own principles, as we shall see, Brigham Young, as duly elected President, was endowed with infallibility and could not fall into doctrinal error!

And what of man? Apparently it was sinful for “Adam” to generate children, for according to the Mormon Catechism, “he had to sin by eating the forbidden fruit,” otherwise “he would not have known good and evil here, nor could he have mortal posterity.” However, human beings who have been generated, if they are good Mormons, will eventually become “Gods, creating and governing worlds and peopling them with their own offspring.” (Manual, Part I, p. 52) The Mormon heaven is evidently very different from the one in which, according toChrist, “they shall neither marry nor be married.” (Matt. 22: 30.) Meantime, according to Mormon teaching, God is continually creating souls which are longing for human bodies. And those on earth who provide the greatest number of bodies for these anxious spirits will be the most glorious in eternity. Polygamy is obviously indicated!

Mormons say that, provided they obey the precepts of their religion, their salvation is made possible through the Atonement wrought by Christ. But who is Christ ? Joseph Smith’s Articles declare Him to be the “Son of God.” But Mormon writers tell us that, in the incarnation, “He was not begotten of the Holy Ghost.” They argue that conception is impossible without physical marital intercourse. Was Joseph, then, the father of Jesus ? No. For then Christ would not be the Son of God. So they say that God the Father came to earth in human form, took Mary as His lawful wife, and of their marital relations in the flesh Christ was born ! Worse still, Orson Hyde, in his Journal, says that Christ Himself practised polygamy, marrying “the Marys and Martha, so that He could see His children before He was crucified!” To anyone with the slightest understanding of it such teachings are but a blasphemous travesty of Christian doctrine.

THE MORMON CHURCH

The Mormon doctrine of the Church is equally astonishing. We are told that Christ founded His Church in Palestine, choosing twelve apostles there, but that Church failed. Apparently anticipating the failure, Christ went to America after His resurrection and chose another twelve apostles from amongst the Nephites, setting up His Church on American soil. But that Church failed. The only thing to do was to wait for Joseph Smith’s arrival on the scene in the latter days, and get him to set up another Church for Him. So the last of the Nephite prophets, Mormon, left full instructions for the benefit of the said Joseph Smith. In 1830, acting under the divine commands, Joseph Smith reconstructed the Christian Church, giving it the same organization-so he claimed-as that possessed by the primitive Church. And the Church he established, the Mormon Church, is the only true Church in the world today !

Constitutionally, the new Church has “apostles, prophets, pastors, teachers and evangelists.” There were two priesthoods, that of Melchisedech for spiritual things, and that of Aaron for temporal things. All members were to inherit the miraculous gifts of tongues, prophecy, revelation, visions, etc., which appeared occasionally in the early Church.

But over the whole Church the highest authority is vested in a President and two Counsellors. When the President dies, the “First Presidency” is dissolved and authority rests with the twelve apostles who are to elect a successor.

For their President Mormons claim an infallibility far in excess of that ever claimed by any Pope in the Catholic Church. Writing in the Encyclopaedia Britannica on “Mormonism,” Reed Smoot, ex-Senator for Utah, says:

“There is but one man on earth at a time . . . who may receive revelation for the guidance of the Church, and he is the President of the Church, God’s Prophet, Seer and Revelator and mouthpiece. His official word, when speaking in the name of the Lord, the Church is to receive as from God’s own mouth.”

Compared with this, how much more moderate is the Catholic claim that the Pope has to rely, not on any divine revelation, nor even on divine inspiration, but only on the divine assistance to safeguard him from error when he does define Christian doctrine for the protection of the apostolic faith from heretical interpretations !

Such, then, is the Church which Mormons hold to be the sole Church of the Living God, all others being accursed abominations.

As regards Sacraments, Mormons follow the usual Protestant tradition of two, Baptism and the Lord’s Supper. From the Baptists they borrowed the doctrine that Baptism must be by immersion (for which there is no warrant in Scripture) and teach that the rite is absolutely necessary for salvation. Since they also teach that all Baptisms administered from the death of the last of the Apostles until the advent of their own Church were null and void, they felt that they had to find some means of avoiding such a wholesale damnation of all previous generations of Christians. So they have introduced proxy-baptisms for the dead. Charitable Mormons may take the names of dead people on their lips and be baptized on their behalf ! If all Mormons, taking this seriously, were utterly unselfish people and spent their whole lives from infancy to extreme old age, doing nothing but receive proxy-baptism for the dead, they would scarcely make an appreciable impression on the vast numbers of previous Christians who have lived and died during the past two thousand years! But all the proxy-baptisms in the world cannot avail for those who have already undergone their judgement by God. The doctrine is utterly unscriptural, apart from its absurdity.

Adopting the Seventh Day Adventist condemnation of alcohol in all its forms, Mormons celebrate even the Lord’s Supper with water instead of wine. And besides the private use of alcohol, the use of tea, coffee and tobacco is also strongly opposed.

POLYGAMY

Strangely opposed to this ascetic attitude was the Mormon theory and practice of polygamy.

Joseph Smith claimed that the necessity of polygamy was first revealed to him in 1831, almost a year after he had founded the Church. Apparently it was revealed to him as a kind of after-thought, which had been overlooked in the first excitement of getting the new Church under way.

At any rate, it was in 1831 that he first began to speak of additional unions as celestial marriages, and quoted the example of the patriarchs of old in justification of them. When his wife Emma objected to his bringing other women home to share him with her, Joseph promptly had a revelation to calm her scruples. In “Doctrine and Covenants,” n. 52, sect. 132 he makes God say, “And let Mine handmaid, Emma Smith, receive all those that have been given unto My servant Joseph, and who are virtuous and pure before Me.”

We have already noticed the Mormon doctrine of created souls anxiously awaiting human bodies through which alone they can attain to eternal bliss as gods. The more wives men have, therefore, and the more their children, the greater will be their glory. In fact, plural marriages are necessary for one’s own salvation!

That Mormons believe, theoretically at least, that polygamy is necessary for salvation is not an exaggeration. When the Government of the United States began to take steps to prohibit polygamy, the First Presidency of the Mormon Church issued a proclamation in 1885 saying, “Upwards of forty years ago the Lord revealed to his Church the principle of celestial marriages . . . Who would suppose that any man in this land of religions liberty would presume to say to his fellow-man that he had no right to take such steps as he thought necessary to escape damnation?”

Joseph Smith publicly proclaimed the law of polygamy at Nauvoo in 1841; and the same Mormon law was again publicly proclaimed under Brigham Young by a Church Council in 1852. When, however, the United States Government, on September 24, 1890, absolutely prohibited polygamy even amongst the Mormons, they agreed to abstain from it in practice. But they have never repudiated it in principle. They say that God dispenses from the necessity of it those who can’t practise it for the time being.

It is only fair to say here that the “Reorganized Church of Jesus Christ of the Latter -Day Saints” repudiates the charge that Joseph Smith taught and practised polygamy, saying that Brigham Young introduced it, thus departing from the true faith as taught by Joseph Smith. But the Utah Mormons insist that Joseph Smith did get a revelation in favour of polygamy, and that he both taught and practised it. And the evidence is undoubtedly on their side.

So the Mormon Church believes it its duty to go on during these “latter days of the fullness of times,” in preparation for the imminent Second Coming of Christ (a doctrine borrowed from the Millerites) ) and the establishment of the millennial Reign of Christ over the whole world, with His headquarters in America.

MISSIONARY ZEAL

The missionary zeal, with which the Mormons have sought to propagate their doctrines is almost incredible. As early as 1837, long before the trek from Nauvoo to Great Salt Lake, missionaries had been sent to England. There they distributed thousands of tracts and made so many converts that they had to establish a shipping agency to help in the work of “gathering Israel to the Land of Zion.” The first migrant group sailed for Nauvoo in June, 1840. By 1851 the Mormons had over 50,000 converts in England, of whom 17,000 emigrated to the by then established Salt Lake City.

In more recent years a further impetus was given to the missionary movement by the greatly increasing numbers of other Americans who had invaded the State of Utah. New converts were necessary to balance the vote; and between the two world wars all kinds of inducements were held out to migrants who were willing to become “Latter Day Saints” and transfer themselves to Utah and a share in Mormon prosperity.

Though results are no longer spectacular, missionary zeal has not abated; or, rather, the system of sending missionaries to all parts of the world is still maintained. The majority of young Mormons are expected to serve a missionary apprenticeship of two or three years abroad before taking their place in the business world. So, at about the age of twenty-one or twenty-two, they go in pairs to whatever country is assigned to them.

The Utah Mormons have over 2000 such missionaries in thefield; the “Reorganized Church” about 200. But most of these missionaries have their eye on their own future business prospects rather than on souls. Young, professionally untrained, and ignorant of conditions in other lands, not to speak of foreign languages, they cannot hope to make many converts. And it is a more sophisticated world today than it was in Joseph Smith’s era.

Still, it’s all experience; and Mormons, admitting the inefficiency, say that the very duty of arguing with all and sundry on behalf of their Church sends the young men back confirmed in their loyalty to it. If that be true, one can only conclude that blind partisanship supplies for the lack of knowledge of Christianity and often indeed of their own Mormonism in the youthful missionaries.

Much contained in this little book about their own religion would be a revelation to many of them; for they know neither their own history as it really is, nor how chaotic are their own religious teachings

ONLY POSSIBLE VERDICT

What, then, is the truth about Mormonism? Can one arrive at any other conclusion than that it is a man-made substitute religion quite irreconcilable with genuine Christianity? Joseph Smith was certainly an impostor, and anything but the type of man God would choose for the prophetic mission he pretended to be his.

The Legend of the Golden Plates is an obvious invention. Mormons themselves are shamefaced and apologetic about it.

The Book of Mormon teems with wrong facts, wrong history, wrong morals, and wrong views of religion and of life.

The teachings of Joseph Smith, Brigham Young, and other authoritative writers on Mormon doctrine, whilst using Christian terms, utterly pervert their meaning, and offer a teaching as far removed as possible from Christian truth. Brigham Young did not hesitate to write, “Every spirit that confesseth that Joseph is a prophet, and that the Book of Mormon is true, is of God; and every spirit that does not is of Antichrist.” In truly Christian ears such a misuse and distortion of Scripture is nothing short of blasphemy.

And ever there remains the immoral teaching justifying polygamy. If Mormons have abandoned it in practice, it is only because compelled to do so by civil law. If pressed, they will say that they believe in it still, though they do not practise it under present circumstances. But that it was ever taught and practised at all would be sufficient to condemn Mormonism as utterly opposed to the religion of Christ.

But, we shall be told, we must account for its success. Yet is that so difficult? Certainly natural factors alone can account for it. In its initial stages, the murder of Joseph Smith gave him the halo of martyrdom. That, not religious motives, but what was rightly considered disgraceful social conduct, aggravated by the evil reputation he had built up for himself, was the cause of his death was lost sight of by his followers in their excitement. And when Brigham Young, a man of indomitable energy and iron will took charge of them, they were only too ready to fall in with his plans.

Shrewdly, Brigham Young led them off to Utah before its incorporation as one of the United States, where he ruled as head of Church and State for thirty years. There, where others could not get at them, and there was no escape for the faint-hearted, the Mormons were able to thrive. Is it not significant that the other and lesser Mormon sects, described earlier in this pamphlet, lacking the advantages the Utah Church gained by its migration, have made little or no progress at all during the same period of time? And even in Utah, now that the railroads have brought a great influx of other Americans, a halt has been called to the growth of Mormonism there. If it has survived with such vitality as it has retained, it is due to the vigorous start given it by Brigham Young, the sound material basis on which he established it, and to its being held together by the strong hierarchical organization with which he provided it. But, as credulity wanes, Mormonism is finding it more and more difficult to keep its spirit from declining.

The whole story of the movement, one among so many others that arose in the first half of the nineteenth century, merely proves that human beings are so incurably religious that if they have not got the right religion they will either invent a wrong one for themselves, or grasp at one proposed with enthusiasm by others. Joseph Smith, as we have seen, had not the right religion. He never knew Catholicism. And dismayed by the confusion of the Protestant sects around him., he merely added to the confusion by inventing yet another religion of his own, with the help of the revivalist preacher, Sidney Rigdon. Not in that way was peace to be found, either for himself or for his followers.

TRUE HAVEN OF PEACE

The only real road to true peace-and I speak as one who has himself travelled that road out of the very confusion of Protestantism I have mentioned so often throughout this pamphlet-is that which leads back to the Catholic Church, to the calm and quiet of the Ancient Faith.

If we have any real belief in Jesus Christ and in His divinity; if we believe that He holds the true key to the mystery of human life; if we believe that He alone can control the wayward hearts and wills of men; if we believe that His doctrines are authoritative and that it is upon them alone that the highest and noblest lives have been built up in the past, and can he built up in the future; if we want all the certainty of truth and all the means of grace He meant us to possess-then let us turn our attention to the one, Holy Catholic and Apostolic Church.

That Church, which today numbers over 400,000,000 of Christians [1.1 billion in 2003], drawn from every nation on the face of the earth, Jesus Christ personally founded. That Church He commissioned to teach all nations in His name. Against that Church He promised that the gates of hell, or the forces of evil, would never prevail. And to that Church He promised His abiding presence and protection till the end of time. And they are the claims of that Church which no one can afford to overlook.

Nihil Obstat:

W. M. COLLINS, Censor Dioc.

Imprimatur:

@ D. MANNIX,

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis 3rd July, 1953

********

The Mother of Our Lady

GOOD ST. ANNE

INDEX

MANY if not most of the saints have had holy mothers, mothers who understood the tremendous responsibility of Christian motherhood, and who strove to instil into their children’s minds the truths of religion from the first moment of the dawn of reason. We read of the mother of St. Louis, King of France, that she repeated to him constantly, “My son, I would rather see you dead at my feet than guilty of one mortal sin.” We read of the mother of the sainted Curé d’Ars that she had consecrated him to God even before his birth, and never allowed him to forget that he belonged in a special manner to the Most High. We read of the mother of St. Nicholas of Tolentino that she kept repeating the names of Jesus and Mary into his infant ears. We know of St. Monica’s life-long struggle with Satan for the soul of her son, afterwards the great St. Augustine, of the saintly mother of the “Little Flower,” St. Therésè, in our own times, and of hosts of others. What a privilege and what a responsibility is a mother’s? It would almost seem as though she could make her child a saint if she set her mind to it, if she began with the infant, with the tender sapling, training it to grow in the right way while it is capable of being trained. Surely no commendation is too high for a good mother.

And if the mothers of saints and all good mothers deserve to be praised and honoured what praise and honour are great enough for her who was worthy to be mother of the Queen of Saints, good St. Anne, grandmother according to the flesh of Our Saviour Jesus Christ? Devotion to St. Anne is the spontaneous warm and hearty outpouring of the true Catholic heart which loves Mary. One feels how Mary must have loved and reverenced her mother. The Immaculate Virgin obeyed and practised in their utmost perfection the commandments of the Law. Next to Jesus Christ Himself none other ever honoured and obeyed parents as she did, and with that honour and obedience went the most intense filial love. What must have been the holiness of that parent who was made the mother of the only one among the descendants of Adam conceived and born without stain of sin ? God fashioned St. Anne to be the perfect mother of a still more perfect daughter. He trained her in the school of humiliation, of hope deferred, of prayers unanswered, of years of disappointment borne with perfect meekness and resignation, and then, in her old age the miracle was wrought, the prayers of years were answered, and oh ! what an answer ! The Immaculate Mary was conceived in her womb. She became the mother of her who was to be “ the glory of Jerusalem, the honour of our people, the joy of Israel, above all women upon the earth.” In a word St. Anne was the mother of the Mother of God. She was not alone to bring forth a pure, beautiful and glorious child, but she was further given the charge of preparing and educating her daughter for the sublime dignity which awaited her. When one meets a virtuous and amiable girl it is natural to say, “that girl has been well brought up. She must have had a good mother.” But what a girl was Mary! Of her St. Ambrose says “What more noble than the Mother of God. She was a virgin in body and mind, whose candour was incapable of deceit or disguise, humble in heart, grave in words, wise in her resolutions, she spoke seldom and little, read assiduously, and placed her confidence not in inconstant riches but in the prayers of the poor. Being always employed with fervour, she would have no witness of her heart but God alone. She injured no one, was beneficent to all, honoured her superiors, envied not equals, shunned vain-glory, followed reason, and ardently loved virtue. Her actions had nothing unbecoming, her gait nothing of levity, her voice nothing of overbearing assurance. Her exterior was so well regulated that in her body was seen a picture of her mind. Her charities knew no bounds, temperate in her diet she prolonged her fasts several days, and the most ordinary meats were her choice, not to please the taste but to sustain nature. It was not her custom to go out of doors except to the house of prayer, and this always in the company of relatives.”

What a model for young girlhood was Mary, and what a testimony to a good mother’s care and example. Of that mother St. Jerome says: “ Anne is the glorious tree from which bloomed a twig under Divine Influence. She is the consecrated ground which brought forth the Burning Bush. She is the sublime Heaven from whose heights the Star of the Sea neared its rising. She is the blessed barren woman, happy mother among mothers, from her pure womb came forth the shining temple of God, the sanctuary of the Holy Ghost, the Mother of God.” Mary is the Treasurer of all graces. How great then the privilege and dignity conferred by God upon St. Anne when God chose her for Mary’s mother ? “ Blessed, thrice blessed, art thou, St. Anne ! “ exclaims St. John Damascene, the great Doctor of the Church, “ who didst receive from God and bring forth the blessed Child from whence proceeded Christ, the Flower of Life.” Even her beautiful name Anne (grace) signifies gracious,-loving,-and refers to her sublime destiny. She too had been selected from all eternity like her beloved child. To her may be applied the words of St. Bernardine of Siena regarding St. Joseph

“In the Kingdom of God the universal rule is ‘ If God elects anyone for a special privilege and a sublime state He bestows on that chosen person all the gifts necessary for its adornment.’ “

“Anne was the most chaste of virgins,” wrote Mary of Agreda in the “ City of God.” “From her very childhood she possessed the fullness of every virtue. She was being continually enlightened, and was constantly engaged in devout meditation. Her unceasing prayer was that the Redeemer might come quickly. Had Anne not been adorned with angelic purity she could never have become the mother of the Virgin of Virgins. Without purity the great miracle of Mary’s Immaculate Conception could never have taken place in her womb.”

Anne Catherine Emmerich in her visions saw St. Anne in ecstasy, enveloped in heavenly splendour, and surrounded by hosts of angels at the moment of Mary’s Immaculate Conception. She beheld the Heavens open, and the Blessed Trinity and angels rejoicing. Equally great was the Heavenly jubilation at Mary’s birth. St. Anne shares in the glory of Mary in a special manner on the great feasts of the Immaculate Conception and Nativity, they are her feasts also, on which her clients should rejoice with her.

ST, ANNE’S LIFE ON EARTH

All that we know about St. Anne has been derived from what is called “Apocryphal” literature. There were certain writings of the apostles and other holy people of the early ages of the church, which though not accepted as the inspired Word of God, were yet regarded with respect and veneration, and as of historical importance. They related many details about Our Lord’s family connections, which are not to be found in the Gospels. These writings were called “Apocryphal.” One of them is called the “Proto-Gospel of St. James” and it tells us what we are here to relate regarding the parents of Our Blessed Lady. St. Joachim was descended from the great king and prophet David, although at the time of Our Lady’s birth that family had sunk into poverty and comparative obscurity. His wife Anna belonged to the tribe of Aaron, the High Priest, brother of Moses the great law-giver. The tribe of Aaron had always been set apart for the priestly office. Thus, both parents of Our Lady were of the very flower of the Jewish race. In purity of life and nobility of character they far exceeded all who had preceded them. But to outward seeming Joachim and Anna were like their neighbours. They had to work hard, because the family of David had not prospered in the worldly sense; and though they possessed a little bit of land it needed constant labour to wrest a living from it. The women of the East help their men in the fields, and so did St. Anne help St. Joachim. She drew water from the well at eventide when the day’s work was over, she helped to grind the corn which she afterwards made into bread, she made butter, and no doubt kept bees and gathered the honey, as all the peasant women did in the little town of Nazareth where she dwelt with her husband. All the garments which she and her husband wore, and all the furnishings of her little home were spun and fashioned by her own industrious hands. The “Lesson” for St. Anne’s Feast is taken from “Proverbs 31.” It describes a “valiant woman” and is eminently suitable to the mother of Mary.

“Who shall find a valiant woman? from afar, and the utmost bounds is her price. The heart of her husband trusteth in her, and he shall not want for spoil. She will render him good, and not evil all the days of her life. She hath put out her hands to strong things, and her fingers have taken hold of the spindle. She hath opened her hand to the needy, and stretched out her hands to the poor-strength and beauty are her clothing, and she shall laugh in the latter day. She hath opened her mouth to wisdom, and the law of clemency is on her tongue, She hath looked well to the paths of her house, and hath not eaten her bread idle. Her children have risen up and called her blessed, her husband, and he praised her. Many daughters have gathered riches, thou hast surpassed them all. Favour is deceitful and beauty vain. The woman that feareth the Lord, she shall be praised. Give her of the fruit of her hands, and let her works praise her in the gates.”

Such was Anna, beloved and cherished spouse of Joachim. Surely these two were happy! They were certainly very happy in each other, but one thing was wanting to complete their happiness to make their home a paradise. That one thing was a child. This virtuous and noble pair were childless. In most cases the lack of offspring is disappointing to a good, happily-wedded couple, but under the Jewish dispensation it was more than disappointing, it was a tragedy-a disgrace. Sterility was considered by the Jews to be a judgment of God on the woman for some sin. Motherhood was a sign of God’s blessing on the righteous, and Jewish women longed for children because each one hoped that the expected and promised Redeemer, the Messiah- would come of her family. For a childless woman there could be no such hope. In such a case it was even permitted to her husband to put her away. Joachim and Anna had been wedded for over twenty years. All that time they had prayed that God might bestow offspring upon them, but in vain. They beheld themselves growing old. Humanly speaking there was no hope that Anna would become a mother, but Joachim never thought of deserting her. Rather he loved her the more, and shared in her humiliation. They were both resigned to God’s Will, and prayed together that the Messiah would come quickly. They did not guess that He was to be, their own grandson, according to the flesh. At length the biggest humiliation of his life came to Joachim. He was refused entrance into the temple on a feast-day. The High Priest told him that being childless his sacrifice would not be acceptable to God. But both he and his wife turned to God for comfort, and Anne promised that if the Lord took away her reproach she would dedicate her child to His service. The faith of the pious couple was rewarded by the apparition of an angel who assured them that they would have a child “whom all the world should bless.” The promise was fulfilled when Anne became the mother of a daughter, Mary, known to after ages as “Blessed among women.”

The devout clients of St. Anne may learn from this brief recital to have confidence in her who lived such a perfect life, and yet experienced humiliation and disappointment for so many years. She will not be deaf to the prayers of those who are still in this Vale of Tears. And as Mary was the great gift sent to Anne to console her for all she had endured, so will she lead us also to Mary, and obtain for us the aid of her Blessed Child. On the day of her purification St. Anne thanked the Lord for all His mercies, and promised to bring her daughter to the temple when she should be of suitable age. This done, the pious little family returned to Nazareth. In representations of St. Anne we always see her with her blessed child beside her, while a book lies open upon the mother’s knee. It is the book of the Holy Scriptures. According to the Fathers of the Church Mary’s reason shone forth from her earliest years, and she understood without difficulty all that her mother taught her from the inspired pages, which she soon learned to read herself. With particular reverence and love would the holy Virgin study those passages which spoke of the Redeemer to come, and in her humility she longed to be even the handmaid of the Virgin who was to bring forth the Messiah. Did Anne guess from the angel’s message to her what was to be the sublime destiny of her daughter? If so, with what reverence and love combined must she not have gazed upon that daughter’s lovely face, how carefully did she not train and teach her. Dutifully and lovingly the little Mary listened to her mother, drinking in every word, and learning to love her mother more and more as she realized that mother’s virtues. How Anne must have advanced on the Way of Perfection because of this close contact with Mary, the “Mystical Rose”!

The perfect mother and still more perfect child form a beautiful and inexhaustible subject for contemplation and meditation.

At length the time arrived when Anne must fulfil her vow, and part with the treasure of her home. It was the custom of pious Jewish families to have their daughters brought up within the precincts of the temple of Jerusalem, in order that they might benefit by the instructions of the High Priest, and be taught all that it is useful for young girls t o know by pious women older than themselves. Joachim and Anne lived at Nazareth. They set out with their daughter to make the long journey to Jerusalem. Great artists have often taken for their theme the Presentation of the youthful Virgin in the Temple. They have painted her as they saw her in their mind’s eye. We see the long flight of steps which the lovely child ascends alone. Her parents stand beneath gazing after her with longing eyes. The High Priest stands above, with hands outstretched, behind him her future companions. But no one can depict the terrible loneliness of the mother and child. Only those who have known such partings can have some faint idea of their feelings. Only the thought that they were doing God’s Will sustained them. It is said that Joachim and Anne in their later days came to live in Jerusalem, in a little house near the Temple so as to be near their daughter Mary. What a consolation it must have been to their declining years to behold her each day increasing in grace and beauty. There is a lovely picture of the youthful Virgin in the Temple, which is venerated under the title of “Mater Admirabilis.” This painting hangs in an oratory in the Sacred Heart Convent of the Trinita dei Monti in Rome. Many wonderful favours have been granted to those who have prayed before it. These, and the interesting history attached to the picture and its title would seem to indicate that Our Lady wishes us to recall those early days in the Temple when she prayed and worked and meditated and prepared herself without knowing it, for the great dignity awaiting her. St. Anne often visited Mary in the Temple, and the good pious daughter often went to help and comfort the parents who were growing old and feeble. Joachim died first, in the arms of the faithful wife whom he had so loved and cherished through all the vicissitudes of life, and in the presence of the daughter who was to be the Mother of God. Only the death of St. Joseph could be more blessed than that of Joachim. As he gazed into the face of his pure and lovely daughter did God reveal the great secret to his soul ? Did he and Anne read the unspoken thought in one another’s eyes ? We do not know. The old man blessed his wife and daughter, and gave up his soul in peace.

Anna did not long survive him. The best traditions tell us that she did not live to behold Our Saviour. It is supposed that she died in Jerusalem some months after the death of Joachim. We can picture to ourselves the beautiful death of St. Anne. She had been a holy and valiant woman all her days. In the last years of her life, in the intimate companionship of Mary she had arrived at the most sublime heights of prayer and contemplation. Mary prayed beside her dying bed, soothed her anguish, wiped the sweat of death from her brow. What a union of hearts there was between this mother and child. Who can better help us to draw near to Mary than her mother St. Anne? The good mother breathed her last sigh, and died, blessing Mary with her last breath, while the tears of the loving daughter rained down upon her face. Surely St. Anne must be the Patroness as St. Joseph is the Patron of a happy death. Those who have to grieve for a loving mother should seek consolation from the Blessed Virgin, reminding her of the sorrow and loneliness she felt at the death of St. Anne. Mothers who have reason to fear lest they should be called away from their children while these are yet of tender age, should invoke in a special manner the protection of St. Anne, and implore her, and her Virgin Daughter to protect their little ones.

We may be sure that St. Anne took care to provide faithful and prudent guardians for her child before leaving this world. The little house at Nazareth where Mary had been born was left to her as a patrimony, and there, a few years later the Angel Gabriel announced to her that she was to be the Mother of God.

VENERATION OF ST. ANNE

The body of St. Anne was buried outside the gates of Jerusalem. There, in the first days of her bereavement we can imagine Mary going to weep beside the tomb, before she retired to her little home at Nazareth. There, in after years she would have come, accompanied by Joseph, and later by Jesus Himself, when they came to visit the Temple. Later still, widowed and child-less, she would linger beside her mother’s grave after she had revisited the scenes of her Son’s Passion. We may suppose then that the tomb of St. Anne was an object of great veneration to all the disciples of Our Lord. They would have been horrified at the idea that those sacred remains should be desecrated by profane hands. Yet they knew, because of Our Lord’s prophecy that the destruction of Jerusalem was at hand. Lazarus, Martha and Mary and some others determined to leave the doomed city before the judgment of God fell upon it, but they would not leave the body of Our Lady’s mother to be profaned by the brutal soldiery of Titus. They carried it away with them, over the seas. They landed in the south of France, and tradition relates that they buried St. Anne’s body in a cave at a place called Apt in the south of France. Later on, a church was built over the spot, but owing to wars and religious persecutions the faithful were so harassed that they could not practise their devotions there, so it fell into decay, and even the place of St. Anne’s sepulture was forgotten. When peace returned to France and Catholics could breathe once more, a magnificent church was erected on the site of the old one, but the cave or crypt where the holy remains lay could not be found. During the consecration of the new church however, God chose, by a wonderful miracle, to disclose the resting-place of the grandmother of Jesus Christ, according to the flesh.

At the most solemn part of the ceremonies a boy of fourteen, who was among the congregation was noticed as becoming very excited. He was blind, deaf and dumb, and usually quiet and impassive. What was the surprise of everybody when he suddenly rose from his seat, walked up to the altar steps, and struck his stick several times upon one of them. His friends and others thinking he had suddenly gone mad tried to remove him, but in vain. He became still more violently excited, and kept on striking on the same spot. The Emperor Charlemagne was present in the church, and all eyes were turned upon him seeking advice or orders what to do. He, doubtless inspired by God, gave orders that workmen were to be summoned to remove the steps. This was done, and a subterraneous passage was discovered. The afflicted boy jumped into it, followed by the Emperor, and made signs that they were to break down a wall which impeded their progress. This was done, and at the end of a long narrow corridor another crypt was discovered, and, in front of a walled recess they saw a lamp burning, which sent forth an unearthly radiance. At that moment the light went out, while at the same moment the afflicted boy was given to see, to hear and to speak. He called out “ It is she.” Charlemagne echoed his words, and the cry was taken up by the crowds who sank on their knees, overcome by emotion. In the casket, when dug out, they found a winding sheet, enclosing the relics, and bearing the inscription : “Here lies the body of St. Anne, mother of the glorious Virgin Mary.” The winding sheet was found to be of Eastern design and texture, such as would be likely to be used in the Holy Land. Charlemagne, after venerating the sacred remains of St. Anne, thus unexpectedly and miraculously brought to light had an exact narrative of the occurrence drawn up by a Notary, and a copy of the same sent to the Pope with a letter from the Emperor. These documents and the Pope’s reply are still extant.

The cathedral built over the crypt holding the remains of St. Anne is dedicated to St. Auspice, the bishop who received the saint’s body from the disciples, and who interred it in this place, deep in the earth to save it from profane hands. From the time of the above-mentioned discovery this cathedral at Apt became the goal of devout pilgrims from all parts of France and Europe, who flocked thither to pay their homage to the blessed “grandmother” of Jesus Christ. The clergy and people of Apt, fully alive to the importance of the charge committed to them by God, have carefully guarded St. Anne’s relics all down the centuries, and, though some of them have been bestowed upon various churches, etc., the major portion of those relics still repose at Apt. Pilgrims to St. Anne’s shrine in the venerable cathedral will find piles of ex-votos, which testify to the gratitude of other pilgrims helped by good St. Anne during the past eleven hundred years. Many devout clients of Our Lady and St. Anne who visit Lourdes and St. Anne d’Auray will be surprised to learn that, not so very far away from Lourdes rests the body of Our Lady’s own beloved mother.

What historical associations cluster around this shrine at Apt ! Charlemagne bowed low before it, kings and queens have prayed there since his time. Crusaders have knelt there to invoke St. Anne’s blessing upon their pious undertaking. Men and women prominent in the history of Europe during the Middle Ages left rich offerings at the feet of Our Lady’s mother. The great King of France, Louis XIV, was a gift from St. Anne to his mother, Queen Anne of Austria. Like St. Anne herself, this queen, wife of Louis XIII, had arrived at an advanced age without bearing a child to be heir to France. She invoked St. Anne, sending chosen messengers to Apt to pray there. The birth of a son and heir was the extraordinary favour granted to her in return. The queen’s intense gratitude added a side-chapel to the Sanctuary, and thither the body of the saint was removed.

Many valuable gifts presented by Anne of Austria and other wealthy clients of the saint vanished during the stormy period of the French Revolution; fortunately the sacred relics remained untouched. Papal Bulls have over and over again asserted the genuineness of St. Anne’s relics at Apt, and so keen became the demand for them that at length they could only be obtained by permission of the king. An arm of the saint is enshrined in the basilica, of St. Paul’s outside the Walls, Rome; her right hand is venerated in the church of St. Anne in Vienna. Countless cures and conversions have taken place at Apt, the first, if not the most famous shrine of St. Anne.

ST. ANNE D’AURAY

Less ancient than Apt, but even better known and more popular is the Sanctuary of St. Anne d’Auray in Brittany, chosen by the Mother of Mary herself as a place where she wished to be specially honoured. It was to a Breton peasant that she made her desire known in a series of wonderful visions. The Bretons were always remarkable for their intense devotion to St. Anne, whom they regard as their Protectress and Patroness, and whom they address with tender familiarity as their “bonne-mere,” the Breton child’s term of endearment for its grandmother. The saint showed her appreciation of this attitude in a striking manner a little over three hundred years ago. She appeared several times to a humble peasant, named Yres Nicolazie, who lived outside the small village of Keranna (named in honour of St. Anne). There was nothing remarkable about this man. He had reached his fortieth year, and was just a sincere pious Catholic, going regularly to the sacraments, and constantly to be seen with his Rosary beads in his hands. Like every Breton he was devoted to St. Anne, speaking of her always as his “good mistress.” One pious habit he especially had, which doubtless was particularly pleasing to his holy Patroness. He was accustomed to visit frequently and to pray upon a certain piece of ground where tradition said that an ancient chapel of St. Anne had stood. Perhaps as he prayed there he longed that Holy Mass would be celebrated there once more in honour of Our Lady’s mother. His simple pious neighbours neither wondered nor laughed at Yres. He seems to have been generally respected, but taken very much for granted, until St. Anne picked him out as the person best fitted to accomplish her design of restoring her chapel at Keranna. One night, in August 1623, he saw in his room a hand holding a lighted wax torch. He was naturally startled, even frightened by this strange experience. It was repeated several times in his own field, called the “Bocenno” where the ancient chapel had stood. There was one part of this field which could never be ploughed, the oxen always refusing to pass over it. The mysterious torch-bearing hand hovered over this spot in particular, and it was seen by many of the villagers besides Nicolazie himself. St. Anne evidently thought that the poor peasant’s mind needed to be very gently and gradually prepared for his mission. At length she appeared to him in the form of a stately and venerable lady, clad in a snow-white robe, with the now familiar torch in her right hand and a luminous cloud beneath her feet. This happened one evening when he and his brother were driving home their cows, and the men were first made aware of a supernatural presence by the unaccountable behaviour of the beasts, which suddenly stood motionless, and could not be persuaded to stir. Nicolazie and his brother-in-law who saw the vision together fled from it in terror. They regretted their cowardice presently, and returned, but the lady had disappeared.

She came again soon, and after that often appeared to Nicolazie. At last she spoke to him, and bade him tell his parish priest that she wished her chapel to be rebuilt on the spot in the Bocenno field where she had been honoured long ago. He obeyed very unwillingly, but met with a decided rebuff. The Rector (or parish priest) would scarcely listen to him. The Catholic clergy so far from encouraging superstition as Protestants accuse them of doing, always take a severely critical view of alleged supernatural occurrences, realizing the harm that may be done in a community by one impostor or visionary, and the weakening of faith in the miraculous that may follow on exposure of fraud or insanity. But the Rector and Curate of Keranna carried this commendable caution to excess. Even when an ancient statue of St. Anne was discovered in the Bocenno field, under the guidance of the heavenly vision, they remained incredulous, and treated Nicolazie with harshness and contempt. In punishment of their obstinacy they were both afflicted with illness. The Rector on being cured through the intercession of St. Anne at once ceased his opposition to Nicolazie, did all in his power to hasten the erection of the chapel, and laboured during the rest of his life to spread devotion to the saint who had so generously forgiven his disobedience. The Curate also repented, but continued to suffer until his death a few years later. The news of the miraculous finding of the statue spread like wildfire through the country. Pilgrims came in crowds to Keranna, which gradually dropped that name, and became known as St. Anne d’Auray. Subscriptions poured in, and the chapel was speedily erected. St. Anne had repeatedly told Nicolazie that Keranna would become the most famous of her shrines, and one of the most renowned places of pilgrimage in the world. He lived to see the fulfilment of this prophecy of his “ good mistress.” To avoid publicity he retired from Keranna to Pluneret. He received no extraordinary favours himself from St. Anne, except the gift, after fifteen years of married life of two children, a son and a daughter. Nor was he again favoured by a vision of St. Anne until a short time before his death, which occurred in 1645, at the age of sixty-three. The Bretons have always venerated him as a saint but it is only recently that his Cause has been introduced at Rome.

Countless miracles have been wrought and extraordinary conversions have taken place during three centuries at the shrine of St. Anne d’Auray, and the pilgrimages thereto never ceased even during the terrors of the French Revolution. Nothing could stamp out the devotion in Brittany, and it is safe to prophesy that it will last as long as the Breton race. A glorious cathedral now replaces the old church in the Bocenno field, and hundreds of thousands of pilgrims visit it each year.

ST. ANNE BEAUPRE

In addition to Apt and Auray there is yet a third famous Sanctuary dedicated to St. Anne, that of Beaupré in Canada. The first French settlers in that part of the American continent were chiefly Bretons, and they did not leave their love of St. Anne behind them in their home country. According to the legendary account of the origin of Beaupré some Breton sailors when caught in a storm on the St. Lawrence river besought, as of custom the aid of their Patroness good St. Anne, and promised, if rescued, to build a chapel in her honour wherever they should land. When after a night of misery they reached in safety the north bank of the river at Beaupré they did not forget their vow. In haste they erected a little wooden chapel, which was soon enlarged by the generosity of an old mariner resident in Beaupré. From that time, about the middle of the seventeenth century, the usual wonders associated with the devotion to St. Anne started, and drew the attention of the people of Canada to the spot. The first little chapel had expanded by 1876 into a great basilica, of which the Redemptorist Fathers took charge. It was unfortunately destroyed by fire in 1922. The statue and relics of St. Anne were untouched by the flames, and the speedy restoration of the church was set on foot immediately, owing to the fervour of the French Canadians. Rome sent to this shrine at the end of the nineteenth century the wrist bone of St. Anne, now venerated as the great Relic of Beaupré. The Church of St. Jean Baptiste in New York contains a portion of the saint’s forearm, bestowed by Pope Leo XIII. The pilgrimages to Beaupré increase year by year. Devotion to St. Anne, wherever planted, strikes its roots deeply, and spreads with astonishing rapidity. This is not surprising when we consider how abundantly St. Anne showers favours on those who have recourse to her. No other saint seems to have more influence at the Court of Heaven than the Mother of the Mother of God.

DEVOTION TO ST. ANNE IN IRELAND

The Cult of St. Anne was introduced into England by the Normans, and at a later date these brought it with them to Ireland. In the Middle Ages devotion to St. Anne was practised to a degree of which we have no conception nowadays. Her feast was a Holy Day of obligation in England and Ireland, and in both countries innumerable churches were built in her honour, foundations were made under her patronage, and guilds dedicated to her. Devotion to her was closely associated with devotion to the Blessed Virgin, and to her Immaculate Conception. In England of course all this ceased at the “Reformation.” Veneration of both Mother and Daughter died out at the same time there and cannot revive until the day when England becomes once more a Catholic nation. St. Anne stands always near her daughter, and we may hope that her prayers will avail to bring back to Our Lady the country once known as the “Dowry of Mary.” In our own country devotion to St. Anne never died out as it did in England, but, though it has revived of recent years, it is not as great as it was long ago. Her feast was observed as a Holy Day of obligation long ago in Ireland and the most important of the Dublin guilds was that of St. Anne, which had its chantry chapel in the Church of St. Audoen, High Street. The present church of the same name in the same street stands close to the site of the ancient chapel of St. Anne which was founded and endowed in 1430 by Henry VI. The guild connected with it supported six priests, who celebrated Masses for the souls of the founders at altars dedicated to Our Lady, St. Anne and other saints. The guild held property worth about a thousand pounds a year, which was afterwards iniquitously seized and devoted to Protestant purposes, instead of to the Catholic charities for which it was intended by the pious donors. A fresco or wall painting, having St. Anne for its subject was discovered in old St. Audoen’s some years ago, on the wall of the chapel of St. Anne.

If our faith had not been driven underground by cruel and prolonged persecution and penal enactments we might have shrines and .great pilgrimages in honour of St. Anne equal to those of Apt, Auray, or Beaupré. For centuries all open expression of our religious life was denied to us. Our forefathers held on heroically to essentials, the Mass, the Sacraments-where these could not be had-the Rosary. They cherished the roots of Catholicity, but, until recently no flowers could be permitted to appear. Now, however, there are welcome signs of expansion in various directions. A notable revival has begun of the ancient devotion to St. Anne, its centre being, as is fitting the modern church of St. Audoen, so close to the site on which St. Anne was formerly so honoured. The beautiful shrine of St. Anne in St. Audoen’s Church draws immense numbers of the faithful to the feet of the saint, especially on her feast-day, and on Tuesdays. The custom of venerating St. Anne in a special manner on Tuesdays is of very ancient date.

If devotion to St. Anne’s shrine in new St. Audoen’s shadows forth an Irish St. Anne d’Auray on that spot, so close to her ancient chapel, so surely does the exquisite gem of architectural beauty in the picturesque vale of Shanganagh promise to become the Irish “Beau Pre.” Already does the “grandmother” of Christ draw her votaries in numbers to this chaste and beautiful edifice, dedicated to her, and where her picture with her beloved Daughter beside her, hangs above the altar.

The foundation-stone of the Church of St. Anne at Shankill was laid by His Grace, Most Rev. Dr. Byrne, Archbishop of Dublin, July 26th, 1931, and the blessing and opening of this new Sanctuary of St. Anne took place on July 30th, 1933, the Archbishop again officiating. The materials used in its construction are all Irish, as is its workmanship. When completed it will be indeed a glorious sanctuary. The following appreciation of the new church is taken from the “Irish Independent” of August 5th, 1933 : “From the “Shan-Kill” (old church) to St. Anne’s lovely sanctuary is a matter of 1400 years. How the hermit Dolgan of Carraig Dolgan (vulgarly known as Katty Gallagher) and the sainted dead of “ould Rathmichil” must have rejoiced on last Sunday at the sight of the immediate though remote successor to their own church!

“Among the great concourse of people attending the opening of the church the fine body of Foresters forming the bodyguard of the Archbishop recalled the fact that hundreds of years ago a similar company of Foresters guarded the forests of the Archbishop of Dublin from Glencree to Tallaght. In their picturesque uniforms, and with their reverential demeanour they gave evidence of the faith and piety of old Dublin, so fostered for centuries by the Guild of St. Anne.

“The vale of Shanganagh rich in beauty and story lends itself to, and requires its church to be a thing of beauty.

“St. Anne’s Church is an ornament, a gem set in a rich cluster. Its architects have never set a brighter gem in emerald green.

“The unique site called to their artistic sense for an exceptional facade, they have given one reminiscent of the Rock of Cashel.

“But is all the glory of the King’s House from without? By no means. Without being too critical, one may say that little attention has been paid in the past to the interior by Irish church builders. But it is not so in this case. Father Sherwin has impressed his mind and his taste on the Church of St. Anne. The interior-what a revelation it is! Unexpected, because of the rich exterior, yet all the more welcome. One can gaze, and return to gaze-which is a proof that it grips and retains one’s interest. Everyone who enters wishes to re-enter to obtain a new view, a new idea. It is full of ideas, new colours, new forms, new perspective. What a glorious sanctuary when it will be complete! The only regret is that it is incomplete. Let us hope Father Sherwin will soon be able to finish this lovely work. All should be proud to lend a hand.

“ Let us view it as it is.

“ The most striking feature of the building as such, is the artistic arches and chaste columns separating nave and aisle. Here the colour note of the church is struck, the lovely blue of the polished columns blending with the subdued white. That note is carried aloft and expanded in the exquisite windows, reminding one of fleecy cloud in azure sky.

“ A bold but very happy thought introduced the Congress Cross to crown the graceful design.

“ The furnishings, especially of the altar are chosen with the same regard to chaste designs and artistic execution. The sanctuary lamp, a replica of the Ardagh Chalice, with pendant ring, after the Tara Brooch, the candlesticks and candelabra in form and workmanship of rare beauty, and the rich golden door of the Tabernacle, with its “ Cross of Cong “ and precious stones. The worshipper is enabled to gaze on the resting place of the King of Kings without being blinded by an offending chancel window. Many other details are well worthy of admiration. In fundamentals and in artistry St. Anne’s Sanctuary at Shankill is a model.”

ST. ANNE. PATRONESS OF CHRISTIAN MOTHERS

St. Anne obtains many graces, priceless graces for those who invoke her, but she grants her maternal assistance in particular to Christian mothers. She preserves peace in married life, restores harmony in discord, and wonderfully changes a husband’s bad disposition. She protects the birth of children in an extraordinary manner, bestows blessings that lighten the task of rearing children properly, brings wayward children back upon the right path, obtains restoration of health for the sick mother, preserves her precious life for the helpless children and prevents the loss of husband and father. Once when St. Bridget* was praying, St. Anne, to whom she had a special devotion, appeared to her, and said, “ Behold me, my daughter Bridget. I am Anne, whom you love. Know how full of mercy, goodness and affection I am for all who love me. Those who live chastely and peacefully in the state of matrimony, I will love and protect in a special manner, I will grant their petitions whenever they take refuge in me.”

* St. Bridget of Sweden, who was married, and had a large family.

How necessary, especially in these days, is St. Anne’s assistance for mothers in bringing up their children. That great saint obtains the grace for mothers to look upon their children as God’s greatest blessing, and to spare no pains to train them, from their infancy in the love of God. How beautiful it is to see a mother training the baby lips of her child to utter the Sacred Names, and training the tiny hands to form the Sign of the Cross. We see Anne teaching her daughter the sacred truths of religion, and so also should every mother train her child to read and love pious books. Children, too, should meditate upon the example given them by the youthful Virgin, as she stands at her mother’s side, hanging upon each word uttered by the beloved parent. If a picture of St. Anne with the Holy Virgin beside her were hung in every living-room in Ireland what an incentive and reminder it would be to mothers and daughters so to behave that no word or act of theirs would be unworthy of the presence of Mary and Anne. If it is good mothers who often implant the germs of future saints, it is, alas ! equally true that many souls are lost through the indifference, neglect and conduct of bad mothers.

A French physician who had witnessed the death of more than two thousand mothers once remarked, “I have always found a Christian mother’s death to be most beautiful and edifying.”

The following example is one of many instances which show us the happiness of a Christian mother’s death-bed.

In the forties of the last century a Christian mother lay dying in a village of the Black Forest in Baden. Seven of her children had pre-deceased her. Suddenly she raised herself, and with a cry of joy, exclaimed “ O, my little children!”

“ What do you see?” inquired the priest who was beside her.

“ All my seven children are there,” was the reply, as she sank back upon the pillow, and went to join her dear ones.

ST. ANNE PATRONESS OF ALL CHRISTIANS

In the glorious ages of Faith, the Middle Ages, St. Anne was fondly called “Comfortress of the Sorrowing, Mother of the Poor, Health of the Sick, Protectress of Widows, Patron of the Labourer, Patroness of the Childless, Help of expectant Mothers.”

St. Anne was spared neither trials nor humiliations, for years she suffered, and therefore understands how to comfort the sorrowful.

St. Anne loved the poor, and she and her husband bestowed a third of their property on them. St. Anne continues her charity in Heaven. She helps the poor often in a wonderful manner, and she helps the dying, who are poorest of all.

The number of cures wrought by St. Anne’s intercession is countless, and she has been the Health of the Sick for centuries, and is still the same loving mother.

St. Anne was long childless, and often obtains the gift of children for those who invoke her, if such be the Will of God.

She also guards mothers in their hour of danger, and obtains the favour from God that their children may not lose the grace of holy baptism.

She helps those who toil for their daily bread, as she was a toiler herself. In a word there is no limit to the beneficent activity of good St. Anne in Heaven, as all her clients have good reason to know, and having helped us during life, she will not forget us at the hour of our death, as the following experience related by a priest will testify:

“It happened when I was assistant pastor in the parish of N—. One night I was aroused by the ringing of the doorbell. A strange stately lady called up to me. “Father, please go quickly, and take the Blessed Sacrament to a servant in a house up on the hill, for she will not live through the night. The sexton is awaiting you in the church.” The sexton had been awakened by the same person. I took the Blessed Sacrament, and we started for the house to which the lady had directed me. To our surprise we found the house locked, and when we knocked were informed that there was no one ill there. We concluded that some worthless person had deceived us. In order that I would not need to return with the Blessed Sacrament, one of the servants declared her readiness to go to Confession and to receive Holy Communion. Her pious offer was willingly accepted. During her Confession the servant experienced a slight indisposition. She finished her Confession and received Holy Communion. Before long she began to feel worse, and was obliged to take to her bed. Shortly after it was evident that her end was approaching. I administered Extreme Unction, and imparted the Indulgence for the dying. Scarcely was this done when she died. Above her bed hung pictures of many saints, among which was a large decorated representation of St. Anne. The inmates of the house informed me that the pious servant had practised special devotion to St. Anne, and in her honour abstained from milk every Tuesday.

“I have no doubt that the woman who called the sexton and me, was St. Anne herself, as she desired to obtain for her client this last great favour. Without the good saint’s gracious intervention this would not have been possible.”

Let this example move us to practise special devotion to St. Anne to obtain a happy death, on which depends our eternity.

PRAYERS IN HONOUR OF ST. ANNE

MEMORARE TO ST. ANNE

Remember, O holy mother, St. Anne, that never was it known that anyone who fled to thy protection, implored thy help, or sought thy intercession was left unaided, for thou art a most merciful mother, and dost aid all who are in distress. Inspired by this confidence I take refuge in thee, and beseech thee by thy great prerogative of being the mother of the Queen of Heaven and grand-parent of the Saviour of the world, to come to my aid with thy powerful intercession, and obtain from thy Immaculate Daughter this favour (mention it).

In honour of the nine months during which thou didst bear the Ever Blessed Virgin in thy womb, and didst bring her forth without stain of original sin, I now offer up these nine Hail Marys, which I offer thee through my angel guardian. Amen.

PRAYER FOR THE WAYWARD CHILD

O holy mother, St. Anne, so rich in graces thou wilt never leave unheard the pleadings and tears of a mother who invokes thee for a wayward child. Lo! thou knowest my grief and the anguish of my heart. Look down with thy maternal eyes upon this poor erring child, and bring it back upon the way of salvation that it may again serve God faithfully and obtain eternal happiness. Through Christ Our Lord. Amen.

Hail Mary, three times.

THE FIVE PREROGATIVES OF ST. ANNE

1. Rejoice, O blessed Anne, for thou didst conceive a daughter who is the Mother of the Saviour of the world!

(Gloria Patri, etc.).

2. Rejoice, O blessed Anne, mother of the Queen of Heaven, for from thee proceeded the bright shining Star of the

Sea! (Gloria Patri, etc.).

3. Rejoice, O blessed Anne, mother of the Immaculate Virgin Mary, who ever a Virgin is at the same time the

Mother of the Redeemer. (Gloria Patri, etc.).

4. Rejoice, O blessed Anne, who alone didst merit the grace of being the mother of Mary, and grand-parent of

Jesus Christ. (Gloria Patri, etc.).

5. Rejoice, O blessed Anne, exult and be glad unceasingly, that thou hast been so privileged by God ! Plead for me with Mary, thy most pure daughter, the august Queen of Heaven. (Gloria Patri, etc.).

V. Pray for us, St. Anne.

R. That we may be made worthy of the promises of Christ.

LET US PRAY

O God Who didst will that St. Anne by being the mother of Mary, the Ever Blessed Virgin, should co-operate in the work of the Redemption of Thine Only-Begotten Son, grant we beseech Thee, that while on earth, we may so venerate the Mother of Thy Son, and her Mother, St. Anne, that at the hour of death we may rejoice in their assistance and praise and bless Thee forever in Heaven. Through Christ Our Lord. Amen.

PRAYER TO ST. ANNE

TO OBTAIN SOME SPECIAL FAVOUR

Glorious St. Anne, filled with compassion for those who invoke thee, and with love for those who suffer, heavily laden with the weight of my troubles, I cast myself at thy feet, and humbly beg of thee to take the present affair which I recommend to thee under thy special protection.

Vouchsafe to commend it to thy Daughter, the Blessed Virgin Mary, and lay it before the throne of Jesus, so that He may bring it to a happy issue. Cease not to intercede for me until my request is granted. Above all obtain for me the grace of one day beholding my God face to face, and with thee and Mary and all the saints praising and blessing Him for all eternity. Amen.

Good St. Anne, Mother of her who is our life, our sweetness and our hope, pray to her for us, and obtain our request. (Three times).

NOVENA TO ST. ANNE

O most holy and august St. Anne, Heaven admires you, earth blesses you, God the Father loves you as the mother of His cherished daughter, the Incarnate Word as the parent of His well-beloved mother, the Holy Spirit as the mother of His perfect Spouse. The angels and the elect honour you as the tree producing a flower, the heavenly perfume and beauty of which charms them, and whose divine fruit is their life and felicity. Penitent sinners look on you as their most powerful advocate with God, the just through your intercession hope for an increase of grace, penitents the expiation of their sins, and sinners the remission of their iniquities. Be propitious to us, O most merciful St. Anne, unite with Mary, your dear and admirable child, and by her intercession and yours we shall confidently expect mercy from Jesus, to whom you were so intimately allied, also the intentions of this novena, and every grace during life, and above all at the hour of death. Amen.

LITANY OF ST. ANNE LORD, HAVE MERCY ON US

Christ, have mercy one us.

Christ, hear us.

Christ, graciously hear us.

God, the Father of Heaven, have mercy on us.

God the Son, Redeemer of the world, have mercy on us. God the Holy Ghost, have mercy one us.

Holy Trinity one God, have mercy on us.

Holy Mary, Mother of God, Pray for us

St. Anne, Mother of the Virgin Mary, Pray for us

St. Anne, Spouse of St. Joachim, etc.

St. Anne, Ark of Noah

St. Anne, root of Jesse,

St. Anne, fruitful vine, Pray for us

St. Anne, joy of the angels, etc.

St. Anne, hope of the patriarchs,

St. Anne, vessel full of grace,

St. Anne, mirror of obedience,

St. Anne, mirror of patience,

St. Anne, mirror of devotion,

St. Anne, support of the Church,

St. Anne, refuge of sinners,

St. Anne, mother of virgins,

St. Anne, help of Christians,

St. Anne, gate of salvation,

St. Anne, guide of pilgrims,

St. Anne, consolatrix of the afflicted,

St. Anne, health of the sick,

St. Anne, help of all who invoke you,

Lamb of God, who takest away the sins of the world, spare us, O Lord.

Lamb of God, who takest away the sins of the world, graciously hear us, O Lord.

Lamb of God, who takest away the sins of the world, have mercy on us, O Lord.

Pray for us, O blessed St. Anne.

That we may be made worthy of the promises of Christ.

Let us Pray.

O God, Who by Thy grace, wast pleased to choose blessed Anne to be the mother of the Virgin Mary, mercifully grant that we who celebrate her praises may be assisted by her prayers to Thee, Who livest and reignest world without end. Amen.

INDULGENCES IN HONOUR OF ST. ANNE

MOTHER OF THE B.V.M

1.-(a) Seven years and seven quarantines once a day (Tuesday) for devotion to St. Anne on 9 consecutive

Tuesdays.

(b) a Plenary Indulgence on conditions of Confession, Communion and Prayers for the Pope’s intentions. 2.-(a) Seven years and seven quarantines each day for a Novena in honour of St. Anne, with approved prayers. (b) Plenary on any day during the Novena, with Confession, Communion and Prayers for the Pope’s intentions. (Given 22nd August, 1912).

Nihil Obstat:

Jacobus Doran, Censor Deputatus.

Imprimi Potest:

@ GULIELMUS, Episcopus Fernensis. Die 26 ° junii, 1935.

The Mothers’ Saint

ST. GERARD MAJELLA

REV. JOHN HOGAN, C.SS.R

INDEX

Letters arrive daily at our monasteries in Australia, and overseas with these requests: a medal of St. Gerard Majella; the loan of his relic; prayers for a sick child or an expectant mother; to be enrolled in the League of St. Gerard. They come from mothers and sometimes husbands. Mothers write for their married daughters. Friends write on behalf of friends.

There are letters of thanks, too. Plenty of them. Thanks to St. Gerard for a successful confinement; thanks for the recovery of a sick child; thanks from a childless couple that their prayers have been heard.

Why this worldwide chorus of prayer and thanks to St. Gerard Majella? Why so many children with the names Gerard and Majella?

Because St. Gerard Majella, a Redemptorist Brother, is universally acclaimed as the Patron of Mothers, the Mothers” Saint: a title to which he has proved his right thousands of times over.

How did this devotion originate? How is it that one who is a man and a religious should be the Patron of Mothers? How explain that so many of the favours granted are truly miraculous?

The answers to these questions are to be found in the interesting and extraordinary life of the saint.

GERARD MAJELLA

Domenico Majella and his wife, Benedetta, lived in the small town of Muro in Southern Italy. Their first child, Gerard, died when only ten days old. Then they were blessed with three girls. The devout couple must have prayed for a son to take the place of their first-born; for, when he arrived on April 6, 1726, they gave him the same name, Gerard. It looked as though he would share the same fate, too, because he was so delicate that he had to be baptised straight after birth. Somehow he managed to survive; but remained sickly for the rest of his days.

CHILDHOOD

Little is recorded of him until the age of six. Then it was brought home to the family that Gerard was a child specially favoured by God.

It happened this way. Two miles outside Muro stood an old church in which was a statue of Our Lady nursing the Divine Infant. People often went out there to pray. Gerard got into the way of going by himself. On his return he used to hand his mother a small loaf of bread. It was such good bread and so white that Benedetta was intrigued. “Who gives it to you?” she asked. “A beautiful boy,” was the reply.

One day his sister Anna, unable to restrain her curiosity any longer, followed him. The extraordinary story she told her mother induced Benedetta to go and see for herself. So she hid in the church before Gerard was due to arrive on his usual visit. Imagine the mother’s surprise when she saw the Divine Infant come to life in His Mother’s arms, climb down on the floor and play with the little boy. Before Gerard left, his Playmate handed him a small loaf. Now she knew where the bread was coming from and who the beautiful boy was.

Similar incidents were witnessed by quite a few people, including a priest.

But Gerard hungered for a better bread. He was refused it because at that time children had to be ten years old before making their First Communion.

The boy was only eight. However, such was his longing to receive God into his heart that one Sunday he went up to the altar rails with the people. The priest, recognising him, passed him by. Bitter were the tears he shed. He was still crying that night as he dropped off to sleep. Suddenly he was awakened by a light in the room: not the risen sun, as he thought, but the brightness of an angel. The Archangel Michael had come to give the boy his First Communion.

That this was no child’s dream is evident from other incidents, all fitting into the same pattern.

Gerard had now begun school. He was a general favourite, we are told, with both teachers and class-mates. Games do not seem to have appealed to him. His whole interest was in the church, in saying his prayers and in playing at priests. Such piety might well be put down to a child’s fancy caught up by the sound and the stir of the sacred ritual. Not so his innumerable little sacrifices and acts of self-denial. Benedetta, fearing that he would undermine his already frail constitution, had to insist that he eat his meals. Yet, good mother that she was, she sensed his holiness. As she said herself in later years, “he was born for heaven.” So, with many a heartfelt “bless you my son,” she gladly co- operated with the Divine Artist in the moulding of a saint.

WAGE-EARNER

God, Who had so far lavished such favours on this child of grace, was now to give him a share of the Cross. As gold is purified by fire, so Gerard’s true worth was to be put to the test in the crucible of suffering.

Schooldays were brought to an abrupt end by the death of his father- a shattering blow to the Majella’s as to any other family. Although only twelve Gerard had now to make his contribution to the upkeep of the home. So he followed his father’s trade, becoming apprenticed to a tailor.

That was hard on a boy of such tender years; and life was not as easy then as it is today. Hours, too, were long and conditions bad.

To make matters worse the foreman took a dislike to the youngster. So much piety irritated him. He bullied and beat him unmercifully. During one of these thrashings Gerard kept smiling. Unable to take the smile off the boy’s face, the brutal man asked him what he had to smile about. “I”m smiling,” replied Gerard, “because in your hand I see the hand of God striking me.” Which, of course, only infuriated his assailant the more.

This ill-treatment went on for a long time without the employer being aware of it. Chancing one day to come on such a scene he woke up to the situation and instantly dismissed the foreman.

Before he finished serving his time Gerard volunteered to become valet to a bishop. His Lordship had servant trouble. No wonder. He was so exacting and so hard to please that no one stayed in his employ more than a few weeks.—One would need the patience of a saint. Gerard showed he had that by sticking to the job for three years. He left only when released by the bishop’s death.

During this time a charming incident occurred which shows on what familiar terms Gerard stood with God. His Lordship was out, so the valet decided to go to the public well to draw water. He locked the door and put the key in his pocket. By some mischance it fell into the well. “What a storm there’ll be this time,” he thought. Without further ado he rushed over to the cathedral, took a statue of the Divine Infant from one of the cupboards in the sacristy, tied a rope around it and lowered it into the well. When the statue was hauled up, to the amazement of the curious bystanders it had the dripping key in its hand. The well is still called “Gerard’s Well.”

G. MAJELLA. . . . . . TAILOR

On the death of the bishop Gerard went back to tailoring. He started a business of his own. The name “G. Majella” over the door must have attracted many of his father’s former clients because orders came rolling in. Never was a business run on more unbusinesslike lines. Money seems to have been his last concern. He never charged the poor and allowed himself the barest margin of profit. This he divided into three parts: one-third he gave to his mother for household expenses; one-third was given to the poor; and with the rest he had Masses said for the souls in purgatory.

Tailoring, however, was only a side-line. The affairs of his soul were his main preoccupation. Every morning he heard or served several Masses in the cathedral. After work he was back there again kneeling for hours before the tabernacle. Often he spent the whole night in adoration. He was able to do this because the sacristan was a relative and gave him the keys. Sometimes he refused to hand them over out of concern for the youth’s health. Not to be denied Gerard would then climb in through a window.

DIVINE CALL

A question that now arises is: if this saintly young man was more interested in the affairs of his soul than in the things of the world, why did he not think of leaving it?

He did, many times. The priesthood was out of the question. For one thing he was not equal to the studies since he had had to leave school at the age of twelve. Besides, where was he to find the money to see him through the long seminary course? What he wanted to be was a Coadjutor Brother, a religious who looks after the temporal needs of the monastery.

When he was sixteen, and again at eighteen, he applied to the Capuchins. Despite the fact that he had an uncle in the Order able to put in a good word for him, he was turned down each time for the good reason that his health would never stand the rigours of Religious Life.

He even tried becoming a hermit. When his companion in the adventure deserted after a few days of starvation in the forest, Gerard also had to give up the idea.

Yet, behind these set-backs the designs of God were slowly working out.

The would-be hermit was twenty-three when the Redemptorists arrived in Muro to give a mission. They belonged to an Order recently founded by St. Alphonsus Liguori. With them was a Brother or two. Here was Gerard’s chance. He asked to join the Brothers. Like the Capuchins before him, the superior of the mission, -Father Cafaro, needed only one glance at the pale, gaunt figure to reach a decision. His answer was: “Definitely no! You are not strong enough for our kind of life.” This time Gerard was not going to take “no” for an answer. . He kept up his pleas all through the mission.

Strange that God should obviously be calling him into Religion, and yet place such obstacles in his way! A soul of weaker calibre would soon have given up the struggle. Not so Gerard.

“If you won’t accept me,” he said to Father Cafaro, “then I”11 follow you. I”11 live on your doorstep and you’ll have totake me in.”

The priest took the hint. He told Benedetta what time the missioners would be leaving the town. “Before then,” said he, “lock him in his room.”

The anxious mother did not need to be told twice. Gerard foiled the ruse by making a rope out of the bedclothes and lowering himself from the upper-storey window. The brief note of farewell that he left on the table was prophetic. It read: “I have gone to become a saint.”

A USELESS BROTHER

The missioners, who were proceeding on foot to the next town, had not gone far along the road when they heard someone running behind them. To their dismay it was the “ghost of Muro”- the nickname they had given Gerard.

The argument started all over again. Then Father Cafaro had a brain-wave. The best way to get rid of this importunate young man was to give him what he asked. And all he asked for was a try-out. So he was handed a note and told to deliver it to the superior of the nearby monastery of Iliceto. “I am sending you a useless Brother,” Father Cafaro had written.

Unflattering credentials! but they gained him admission. And now that he was inside God’s House he meant to stay. When the door closed behind him, it was farewell to the world forever. His first act was to throw himself on his knees before a statue of Our Lady to thank her for this triumphant answer to his prayers.

The community looked askance at the new recruit. With many wise nods to one another they predicted he would have to give up in a week or two. And such enthusiasm! That couldn’t possibly last.

How wrong they were! Father Cafaro was the first to admit it. And Redemptorists had admitted it ever since. The “useless Brother” whom they tried to bar from the Order became one of its greatest glories.

REDEMPTORIST BROTHER

Gerard spent only six-and-a-half years in Religion, What the Church says of such youthful saints as an Aloysius, a Stanislaus Kostka and a John Berchmanns- “in a short time he fulfilled a long time”- was true also of Gerard Majella. His few years as a Redemptorist were crammed full of holiness and crowned by countless miracles.

However, it was not ecstasies and prophecies that made him a saint. It was the unremitting performance of his duties as a Brother, accompanied by the assiduous . practice of the Christian virtues, that led him to the goal of sanctity.

MODEL WORKMAN

The vocation of Redemptorist Brothers is a lowly but sublime one. They perform the household tasks of the monastery- such as cooking, cleaning and sewing-thus leaving the priests free for the work of the ministry. Theirs is a vital contribution to the missions. By combining the labours of Martha with the prayers of Mary, they not only sanctify themselves but bring down countless graces on the souls of others.

On being admitted to the monastery at Iliceto the obvious way for Gerard to prove his usefulness to the community was by tailoring, at which he was expert. Instead, he was assigned to the garden. The spade and the hoe were a far cry from the needle and the scissors. Nevertheless, he tackled the backbreaking job with superhuman energy. The same earnestness and thoroughness he displayed in all his occupations. For he knew that God is not so much interested in what we do, but in why we do it and how we do it. And Gerard certainly performed all his humdrum duties for the love and glory of His Divine Master.

He was in turn gardener, sacristan, cook, tailor, doorkeeper, and at one stage clerk-of-works when a new building was being put up.

SAINTLY RELIGIOUS

The Religious Life gave full scope to his soul’s yearnings for high sanctity. He practised the ordinary Catholic devotions and the ordinary virtues, but with this difference-he excelled in them. The Will of God was the object of his special homage. “O Will of God, O Will of God,” he wrote, “Thou and I have become one and the same thing.” Later, when dying, he had this notice tacked to his door: “The Will of God is done here, as God wills it and as long as He wills it.”

Like all the saints his heart was aflame with love for Jesus and Mary. His prayers before the tabernacle he often prolonged far into the night. The Sacred Passion was the favourite subject of his meditations. He thirsted to become like his Crucified Lord. Those who lived with him relate that during Passiontide and especially on Good Friday he seemed to suffer in his soul the agonies of the Crucifixion.

Even before he entered Religion he had lost his heart to the Blessed Virgin. Once during a novena in honour of her Immaculate Conception, he was seen to rise from his seat in the cathedral of Muro and place a ring on the finger of Our Lady’s statue. To those nearby he said: “The Madonna has stolen my heart. See, I am now betrothed to her.” As a religious he tried to instil in the hearts of others his own love for Mary. The mere sight of her picture was enough to throw him into ecstacy. That happened on one occasion in the home of the Scoppa family at Melfi. The lady of the house showed him a painting of the Madonna she had hanging on the wall. Brother Gerard rose in the air to the height of the picture and seized it rapturously in both hands. The good woman, who had never before seen anyone in ecstacy, fainted. Few of the saints surpassed him in his love for Mary. His reward was to be a vision of her standing by his deathbed.

VIRTUOUS LIFE

Obedience, humility, poverty, fraternal charity. . . . all the virtues shone in his life. Purity he cherished above them all. From childhood he kept his body and soul unsullied. By the vow of chastity he consecrated this innocence to God. How painful, then, it must have been to be reported to St. Alphonsus for a grave fault against this vow! When charged he remained silent. This seemed like an admission of guilt. The penalty was equally painful. He was forbidden to receive Holy Communion. Later his accuser fell ill and retracted the lie. Asked by St. Alphonsus why he had not spoken up in his own defence, he replied: “How could I, Father? Does not the Rule forbid us to excuse ourselves?” It was like an echo from the trial of Christ Himself.

After the example of the saints Gerard was ruthless in chastising his own body. In some pictures of him a bunch of chords is seen hanging over the end of a table. With those he scourged himself every day, frequently to blood. Around his arms and legs he wore chains bristling with sharp points. He fasted on bread and water several days a week, and always on Saturday in honour of the Blessed Virgin.

Yet, for all his austerities Gerard was far from being a sour-faced ascetic. Full of good humour, he radiated cheerfulness wherever he went. Truly, a joyous and lovable saint, whom the Catholic world has taken to its heart.

WIDE APOSTOLATE

God raised up Gerard Majella, called him into the cloister and made him a saint, not for his own sake only, but also for the benefit of others. As a Redemptorist he was pledged to work for the salvation of souls. However, it was not merely as an instrument of conversion and salvation that God used him. He sent him forth among the people, like the Redeemer Himself, performing the spiritual and corporal works of mercy. For this end he opened up to the saintly Brother a wide apostolate that had a tremendous impact because of all the striking miracles which accompanied it.

PORTER

We might say that his apostolate began at the monastery door because when answering the bell he came in contact with people of all kinds, especially the poor. The beggars that besieged the monastery were legion. There were the blind and the lame, the agedand infirm, the ragamuffin and ne’er-do-well. The Brother loved them all, even the imposters. In a bad season as many as two hundred would come daily begging for bread. He managed to feed them all though it often meant multiplying his meagre supplies, as Christ multiplied the loaves and fishes.

However, it was in the world far beyond the monastery door that he carried on his real apostolate. Gerard often accompanied the priests on missions, as was the custom for Brothers in those days. Besides, he was also sent on collecting tours because the Order was practically destitute. In these ways he met vast numbers of people, amongst whom he went about doing good.

On missions hardened sinners were his principal target. Good Shepherd that he was he went in search of these stray sheep. By his persuasiveness he usually succeeded in leading them back to the fold. One case was of a man who had led a notoriously bad life, and although he was dying obstinately refused to have the priest. On entering the room Gerard simplyknelt down and recited the “Hail Mary” aloud. Before he finished the man was pleading to go to confession. The prayer of the saint won for him the grace of a happy death.

APOSTLE OF THE CARELESS

To one class of sinners he was particularly drawn: those who were in the habit of making bad confessions. Theirs is perhaps the saddest plight of all, because they turn what is meant to be a remedy for the soul into a deadly poison. Of a sacrament they make a sacrilege. Gerard had the gift of being able to read aperson’s conscience. Thus, he could mention to the guilty ones sins that they had been concealing in confession for years: sins that were known only to themselves and Almighty God. Such a revelation of their innermost secrets usually had the desired effect. Many such cases are related. One must suffice.

Gerard and a priest went into a shop in Naples to buy some medals and rosary-beads. The shop-keeper, anxious to push his wares, indulged in a lot of pious prattle. Gerard could see behind the facade of hypocrisy. Calling the man aside, he confronted him with the sacrilegious state of his soul, because of such-and-such a sin he had been ashamed to tell. The poor fellow was so thunderstruck that when Gerard had stalked out of the shop he blurted out the whole story to the priest, and, we are told, lost no time in putting his conscience right.

The pious were also the object of his zeal. Many priests and nuns consulted him on the affairs of their soul. To all of them he proved an able spiritual director. Young people sought his advice about their vocation. He dispelled their doubts and persuaded many of them to consecrate their lives to God. In fact, he was like a recruiting officer for the convents. He believed in keeping them well filled because there, shielded from the temptations of the world, nuns could so easily become holy. To one convent in Saragnano he personally conducted seven postulants. To another at Foggia he sent no fewer than fourteen.

MINISTRY OF HEALING

The ills of the body struck a responsive chord in his heart, as they did in the heart of his Divine Master. On behalf of the sick he performed many of his most striking miracles.

For instance: a youth lay dying in lliceto from advanced tuberculosis. Gerard was asked to visit him. The doctor happened to be there when he arrived. An argument ensued. “I tell you,” declared the doctor bluntly, “there is no hope for him unless he gets a new pair of lungs.” “And can’t God give him new ones?” was the rejoinder. Gerard took leave of the boy saying, “I”11 pray for you.” There and then the patient began to get better. The doctor was the first to admit that the boy’s recovery was miraculous.

Like his Divine Master, Gerard had a special affection for children. He could not bear to see them suffering. His powers of healing were often employed to restore them to health. Like the little girl in Auletta. She was a helpless cripple from birth. On going to see her Gerard simply said: “Get out of bed and come here to me.” The child obeyed and the mother watched spell-bound as she took a few unsteady steps and then ran over to the Brother.

HELP TO MOTHERS

Above all, he is justly renowned for the help he gave to expectant mothers, especially those in danger. At Senerchia a mother was dying in childbirth. Gerard was asked to pray for her. At once the danger passed and she safely gave birth to her child. This was evidently regarded by all as miraculous, because it figured in the cause of his canonisation.

Once when leaving the home of the Pirofalo family in Oliveto, a girl ran out with a handkerchief he had dropped in the house. “Keep it,” he said, “some day it may come in handy.” Sure enough it did. She later married and was at death’s door in her first confinement. Then, remembering the handkerchief that she had treasured, she asked for it to be brought to her. No sooner had she clutched it than she was safely delivered. All the mothers around the district insisted on getting a shred of it as a relic.

From what has been said it can be seen that Gerard’s whole life was a chain of miracles. Besides those already mentioned, he made prophecies, which came true; he was seen in several places at the same time; he drove out devils from the possessed; he walked across the waters of the Bay of Naples to rescue a fishing boat; and he did so many other extraordinary things that he became known as “The Wonder-worker of the Eighteenth Century.”

DEATH AND CANONISATION

His short but saintly life came to an end in 1755. Consumption, a malady which had been his constant companion, at last gained the upper hand. Weakened by frequent haemorrhages and wracked by fierce pain, he resigned himself to the Will of God. “I do not wish to live, nor do I wish to die. I only wish what God wishes.” The call came towards midnight, October 15th. He yielded up his pure soul into the hands of Our Lady, whom he saw at his bedside waiting to receive it.

The people’s esteem for Gerard did not end when the slab was placed over his tomb. He lived on in their hearts and memories. Great as had been his influence with God when he walked among them, they knew it was far greater now that he was in heaven. So they just kept on doing what they had done when he was alive. They brought to him their worries and troubles, their ailments and their sorrows.

His life was spent in a small district of Southern Italy. Once he was in heaven, all barriers of time and place disappeared. As devotion to him spread from country to country, so did his miracles increase.

At last, Rome, impressed by the worldwide devotion to Brother Gerard and by the innumerable favours granted by him, approved the introduction of his cause.

He was beatified, January 29th, 1893; and canonised by St. Pius X, December 11, 1904. His Feast is celebrated on October 16th.

PATRON OF MOTHERS

Saints are given to us by God and the Church for our imitation and our intercession.

It might be thought that because Gerard’s life was one long chain of miracles, he is beyond our imitation. The miracles did not make him a saint. They were God’s seal of approval on his sanctity. We can become saints like him without the miracles. We may not be able to follow his way of life as a religious nor practise his austerities; but we can imitate his virtues. These are what made him a saint and will make saints of us.

Gerard did, although to an heroic degree, what all of us are commanded to do:, he loved God with his whole heart and with his whole soul and with his whole mind and with all his strength. Look at his ardent love for Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament, his tender compassion for the sufferings of Christ and his childlike love for Mary. He had his trials- bitter ones they were, more so than ours. But he was never cast down, he never lost heart. Always and everywhere he had serene trust in Divine Providence and abandoned himself entirely to God’s Will. We can all do that. Yes, Gerard’s life preaches most eloquently to all of us- do as I have done and you will become saints.

A POWERFUL INTERCESSOR

As an intercessor in heaven St. Gerard is all-powerful. We have seen how God favoured him even from his tenderest years. Then, too, the number and extraordinary nature of the miracles he worked, show what power he wielded over the heart of God. Now that he is in heaven, he is still God’s favourite and his prayers for his clients are even more efficacious. Proof of this is the countless letters of thanksgiving that pour into our monasteries the world over. How often we meet people who say to us with heartfelt gratitude: “St. Gerard has been a good friend to me”! And knowing from experience what a powerful intercessor he is they are fired with zeal to spread devotion to him amongst others.

While St. Gerard is only too ready to help everybody who prays to him and to grant every kind of request, there are some more than others in whom he has a special interest. The reason for this is to be found partly in his own life and partly in the arrangements of Divine Providence, Which entrusts certain classes of people to particular saints.

Because of the difficulties he had in following his own vocation, he is specially helpful to young people to know what theirs is and to follow it; hence, he is invoked as Patron of Vocations. Because by his gift of reading consciences he was able to induce many who had concealed sins to make a good confession, he is invoked as Patron of a Good Confession. Because he was so devoted to manual labour, giving the world an example of conscientious and painstaking toil, he has been hailed as the Patron Saint of Workingmen. Above all, because of his special help to mothers and their children, he has become widely known as the Patron Saint of Mothers- the Mothers” Saint.

THE MOTHERS’ SAINT

Who, we ask, have greater need of a Patron than mothers? Theirs is a noble vocation because they cooperate with God in giving existence to human beings, who are to live forever. It is a responsible vocation for mothers have to train their children to be good citizens in this world and future citizens of heaven. And it is a difficult vocation because mothers have problems, disappointments and sorrows unknown to most others.

For example, a mother needs courage to go on having babies when she knows it might cost her her life; she needs someone to help her carry her cross when she finds that her child is delicate or deformed; she needs someone to give her strength to nurse a sick child back to health; and she needs someone to give her confidence in bringing up a family today in the face of all the evil influences of a pagan world.

Yes, mothers need that someone—someone who is sympathetic, someone who is all-powerful with God. Now, it is well known that that someone, the friend of mothers, is St. Gerard Majella. Although he has not yet been officially declared by the Church to be the Patron of Mothers, still he is universally invoked by them; and they know from experience that he is indeed their heavenly friend and protector.

But why, it may be asked, should St. Gerard be singled out? After all, he was a man and a religious.

One way of answering the question is simply to say that God has arranged it that way and seems to have entrusted St. Gerard with the care of mothers. However, if we examine the matter more closely we see that there are other reasons.

When he learned in after years of the sad fact of his little brother’s death and of the danger that he himself was in, his heart must have ached for the anxiety and sorrow experienced by his own mother. Perhaps that is why he is so compassionate towards other children and other mothers in similar danger. During life he showed a particular affection for children, and that together with his own childlike innocence makes him a fitting patron to watch over them. During life, too, as we have recorded, he worked several miracles in favour of expectant mothers who were in danger. Those miracles multiplied enormously after his death, so that he became known in Italy as “The Saint of a Happy Delivery.”

In fact, as one of the saint’s biographers wrote in 1804, there was not an expectant mother in Foggia and the sur- rounding district who did not invoke Brother Gerard for a safe and successful confinement. That he has lived up to his reputation is amply proven by the extraordinary assistance he still renders such cases, some of which we are about to relate. It will be noted, too, that as TheMothers” Saint, his intercession is also particularly efficacious for sick children and for those whose marriage has not been blessed with a child.

FAVOURS GRANTED

The following are a few of the favours granted by The Mothers” Saint.

The, first three are recorded in biographies of the Saint. They occurred overseas and evidently before he was canonised.

The Bishop of Surinam, in South America, tells of the wife of a local doctor who collapsed ten days after the birth of her baby. Three of his colleagues were called in. They pronounced the case hopeless. When the woman was already in her agony a friend touched her with a relic of Brother Gerard. At once she opened her eyes and began to feel better. The doctors who verified the cure were all non-Catholics, and all agreed that it was beyond medical possibility.

In a village some miles from Liege, Belgium, an infant died without baptism. The heart-broken mother called on Brother Gerard, promising that if he restored her child to life she would call it after him. To the amazement of the doctor the baby began to breathe. He was baptised and little Gerard lived to gladden his parents.

There was a doctor in Luxembourg whose four-year-old son could neither walk nor talk. The father read the life of Brother Gerard. Impressed by the wonderful cures related in the book and at the same time saddened by the sight of the little cripple beside him on the floor, he murmured a prayer: “Brother Gerard, show your power and cure my son.” Instantly the child jumped and threw himselfinto his father’s arms exclaiming, “Papa, papa.” From that moment he was as lively and as talkative as any other little boy of his age.

The following are extracts from letters received from people here in Australia. They are reprinted from “The Majellan.”

MOTHERHOOD

Dear Rev. Father,

I”m sure your prayers to St. Gerard were answered. I am so proud to be able to tell you that I am the mother of a little daughter after waiting fourteen years. The doctor expected to operate, but all was over before he was ready to start. He was very surprised.

Yours sincerely, W.J.

Dear Father,

We wish to thank St. Gerard for a great favour. For ten years both my husband and myself prayed for the blessing of a fruitful marriage and our prayers have now been heard.

All praise to our Saint.

Sincerely, C.G.

SAFE DELIVERY

Dear Editor,

I have great reason to thank our Patron of Mothers, St. Gerard. Some time after I married, an eminent specialist told me that I would never safely deliver a child.

In my distress I told a Redemptorist Father, and he told me to pray to St. Gerard. Well, after thirty-six years of married life I”m proud to tell you that I had nine healthy children and boast twelve lovely grandchildren. My eldest son is named Gerard, and one of my little grandchildren is named Josephine Majella. Yours sincerely, H.E.McD.

The Majellan,

My sister was pregnant and a non-Catholic doctor told her that she could not have a child as her health could not stand it. A well known Catholic doctor was called in, and after many prayers and Masses she had twins-a boy and a girl-I forgot to state that the non-Catholic doctor said that he would give myself £10,000 if she had a child. He was so sure it was not possible. The Catholic doctor said she was every bit as bad as the first doctor said, but prayer could do it. Thanks to God and St. Gerard, it did.

Yours faithfully J.M.

CHILDREN CURED

Dear Father,

Many thanks for all your assistance by Masses, prayers, relic, etc., in the fight to save our little son’s life. I”m delighted to be able to tell you that thanks to our intercessor in heaven our baby is progressing most satisfactorily. The doctors and nurses here tell us that Michael Gerard is a lucky little man to be alive, as this is the first person in Australia to recover from this operation (a four-hour operation when he was one day old).

They are very thrilled with their success but they don’t know the prayers that we have offered to St. Gerard for his help. The Mothers” Saint has been a great consolation to me in his month’s illness, as I never lost faith. I felt that Almighty God would not refuse the pleading of St. Gerard and our Holy Mother.

Yours sincerely, M.B.

Dear Father,

I would like you to know how marvellous St. Gerard has been to us. He has always helped us very much and especially in May last year.

I had no idea of the prayer for a sick child until, on 20th May, our little baby son contracted lnfluanzal Meningitis.

He was very precious to us as we had four little daughters, and he was our baby boy. He was just 19 months. A friend gave me a medal and I joined the League. We started the prayer and in June our baby returned home completely cured. We still say the prayer every night for him.

Sincerely yours, T.H.

Dear Father,

My girl is aged eight. She is strong and intelligent. But at the age of two years she developed a mysterious disease which completely baffled the doctors. The child would frequently fall into a state of coma, which would last for about two hours. However, we had recourse to our heavenly patron and friend, St. Gerard, and made his novena. Gradually the mysterious illness disappeared and she became quite healthy.

Yours sincerely, a Client of St. Gerard.

THE LEAGUE OF ST. GERARD

The League of St. Gerard was founded in Canada. It was established in Australia in 1944. Its aim is to make St. Gerard Majella known, loved and invoked as TheMothers” Saint. By membership mothers obtain the saint’s powerful help in their responsible task of bearing and rearing children.

At the same time, the League is a crusade to defend the sanctity of marriage, the dignity of motherhood and the integrity of the family. Today these christian values are being assailed by the evil practice of birth prevention, which, by specious arguments and insidious propaganda, has established itself as a cult- the cult not of a golden idol but of gilded lust.

Even Catholics can be led astray and try to excuse themselves for practising something which in the eyes of God can never be excused for any reason at all.

Against these forces of antilife, St. Gerard Majella as the Mothers” Saint, is a God-given leader. By uniting under his banner, mothers are inspired to uphold christian ideals and to become what they were meant to be-the saviours of Society.

PRIVILEGES OF THE LEAGUE

At each League Centre a Mass is said every month for the intentions of members, and local Directors give them a memento in their daily Mass. Moreover, the prayers of all members are shared by any member in time of special need.

MEMBERSHIP OF THE LEAGUE

All may join the League, not only mothers but anyone interested in the crusade to save Christian Society. Membership is free. In Australia there are well over 100,000 members, including single and married, fathers and mothers, priests and nuns. Apply to any centre listed below.

PRAYERS TO ST. GERARD

FOR MOTHERHOOD

O good St. Gerard, powerful intercessor with God, and Wonder worker of our day, I call upon thee and seek thine aid. Thou, who didst always fulfil God’s designs, help me to do the Holy Will of God. Beseech the Master of Life, from Whom all paternity proceeds, to render me fruitful in offspring, that I may raise up children to God in this life and heirs to the Kingdom of His glory in the world to come. Amen.

FOR AN EXPECTANT MOTHER

O Everlasting and Almighty God, Who through the operation of the Holy Ghost didst prepare the body and soul of the glorious Virgin Mary to be the worthy dwelling of Thy Son, and through the same Holy Ghost didst sanctify St. John the Baptist before his birth: listen to the prayer of thy humble servant who implores Thee through the merits and intercession of St. Gerard Majella, to protect me (her) in the dangers of motherhood and to safeguard against the evil spirit the child whom Thou hast vouchsafed to grant me (her), so that by Thy saving hand it may receive Holy Baptism. Grant, also, that after living as good Christians in Thy love and service here on earth, both mother and child may attain to everlasting happiness in heaven. Amen.

FOR A SICK CHILD

Good St. Gerard who, like our Divine Saviour, didst show children such loving tenderness and didst deliver so many from various diseases and even from death: graciously look down upon distressed parents who implore thee to restore their child’s health (if such be the Will of God), promising to bring it up a good Christian and to safeguard it by constant vigilance from the leprosy of sin. We implore this favour, O compassionate Brother, through that early love with which Jesus and Mary surrounded thy childhood. Amen.

FOR YOUR FAMILY

O glorious St. Gerard, entrusted by God with the special protection of mothers and their children, I confidently invoke thy powerful intercession for myself and my family: strengthen us to carry our daily Cross, fly to our aid in every danger to soul and body, gladden our home with the blessings of divine peace, and grant that by the faithful practice of our Holy religion in this world, we may all merit to be reunited around God’s throne in heaven for ever and ever. Amen.

FOR MOTHERS

O good and gracious St. Gerard, invoked throughout the world as the Mothers” Saint, well dost thou know the joys and sorrows, the fears and longings of a mother’s heart. Look down with tenderness, we beseech thee, upon all mothers. Wipe away their tears and cheer them with radiant hope. Shield their virtue from the corrupt influence of a pagan world. Keep them true to the example of Mary, the model of mothers. Obtain for them the graces of their noble state in life, that by bringing up their children in the fear and love of God they may deserve to have those same children for their everlasting joy and crown. Amen.

IN TIME OF TRIAL

O saintly Brother Gerard, whose heart went out to the unfortunate; who relieved so many poor, healed so many sick, comforted so many afflicted; behold me worried and troubled as I kneel at thy feet. In vain do I turn to men to seek consolation and help. Therefore, do I have recourse to thee, who art so powerful in heaven. Graciously assist me, St. Gerard, that being freed from this trial or strengthened to bear it for the love of God, I may praise and thank God and serve Him with greater love and fervour. Amen.

FOR GOOD HEALTH

O God, Who didst bestow on St. Gerard the power of healing all kinds of infirmities, deign to glorify Thy servant, who was so merciful to human misery, by delivering me from my present sickness. Grant also that, being strengthened in body, I may take greater care to avoid sin and overcome my evil passions, the spiritual diseases that drag so many to everlasting death. Through Christ Our Lord. Amen.

Imprimatur:

@ JUSTIN D. SIMONDS

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis

Nihil Obstat:

BERNARD O”CONNOR,

Diocesan Censor. 23rd JUNE, 1964

Imprimi Potest:

G. JOYCE, C.SS.R. Sup. Prov., 20–3-1964.

********

The Mystery of Iniquity And Evil

CLEMENT H. CROCK

INDEX

The mystery of iniquity is already at work.”—2 Thess., 2,7.

We enter this world with a cry, and we leave it with a sigh. Human ills have plagued the world since the primeval fall of our first parents. Sorrow and suffering seem to be the lot of all: no one is exempt. Much has been said and written about the mystery of evil, but no one has ever solved its mystery; and no remedy has ever been devised whereby to evade these apparent evils. We, however, do find much consolation in sorrow and suffering, in sickness and in death, when these are properly evaluated in the light of our Christian faith.

There are two schools of thought on the method of solving the social problems that forever plague us. Our Christian viewpoint is so completely at variance with that of the unbeliever that the two can never become reconciled. The Christian, for example, draws for himself a vast circle which represents God. Within this immense orbit we behold numerous smaller orbits such as the sun, the moon, the earth and the constellations, all moving in orderly fashion within that one vast orbit which governs them.

Now, confining ourselves to the one orbit we call earth, we discover three forms of life; namely, the mineral, the vegetable and the animal life. We know them as the mineral, the vegetable and the animal kingdoms. Each confines its respective activities within its specified sphere, and all seem to be governed by a set form of rules we call the natural law. All three, like those in all the other orbits, move about harmoniously, without friction or confusion, indicating that a mastermind governs and directs them. This motivating or directing force we call God.

There is, however, one startling exception to this world-harmony. It is man, the crown of God’s creation, who finds himself in constant difficulties, in pain and suffering, always disturbed in his quest for peace and happiness. For the solution of his problems, the Christian looks to God, while the unbeliever seeks it in man himself. This divergence of opinion makes matters so complicated and so confusing.

Here is how the unbeliever approaches the problems of life. Instead of placing himself within the immense circle we call God, and towards Whom all things should gravitate, the unbeliever takes the orbit of the world and draws a heavy circle around himself. He makes man the centre of all traction, and claims for himself the right and power to attain happiness without the aid of superior forces. He rejects any and every law coming from a Supreme Being. He declares man a law unto himself. Instead of a natural or divine law, he declares that man is governed by the law of custom or convenience called “mores.” Unlike our concept of Christian morals of right and wrong, this school rejects all recognised standards of moral conduct, standards of what ought and what ought not to be done. In the words of Saint Paul: “They have changed the glory of the incorruptible God for an image made like to corruptible man” (Rom., 1, 23). The Christian looks upon all creation as a means to glorify God, with man ultimately finding his supreme happiness in union with God in heaven. But the unbeliever contends that man must seek his supreme happiness here on earth, with nothing to look forward to when life terminates. In the latter case the mystery of suffering remains still unsolved, and its enigma grows still more perplexing.

From ignoring God, it naturally follows that the unbeliever discards the voice of conscience as a sanction for right social living. And with the laws of God and the voice of conscience discarded, there remains only the strong arm of the policeman to enforce man’s own laws of custom or convenience. Coercion, then, becomes the only remaining means of social control or government. This leads us back to the law of the jungle, a rule by force, violence and deception. We need only recall the brutal and bestial tortures resorted to by inhuman dictators under Communism, Nazism and Fascism in recent years. In the words of Pope Pius XI: “For the first time in history we are witnessing a struggle, cold-blooded in purpose and mapped out to the last detail, between man and ‘all that is called God.’ It is a propaganda so truly diabolical that the world has perhaps never witnessed its like before.” It is an open declaration of war by the Mystical Body of Satan against the Mystical Body of Christ.

Heretofore enemies of Christianity attacked usually one or another of God’s teachings. But now the defiance is hurled at God Himself. We, as Christians, still retain our belief in God’s laws and revelations to direct us; our conscience to guide and admonish us; and reason to govern us. Thus fortified, we can still draw consolation from our sufferings, knowing that they are but means in the divine plan to detach us from things of earth and thus become more attached to the things that are eternal. But that great multitude which lacks all these consolations is truly engulfed in a world of despair. We may still cling to the hope of our reward in Heaven, but those deprived of all Christian principles and ideals find no consolation in a dark and dreary world steeped in the mystery of iniquity.

And a mystery of iniquity it is, indeed! In the course of our series of discourses we shall demonstrate that this mystery of iniquity is a mystery, both in the sense that it is something secret and hidden, and in the sense that it is beyond human comprehension. Holy Writ speaks of a “kingdom,” and calls Satan “the prince of this world,” whose opposition is directed toward the Kingdom of God. He operates through force and deception. He is aided in his machinations by an organized society called the “world” or “the kingdom of this world.” In our combat against these sinister forces we have many powerful spiritual weapons in prayer and the Sacraments, a truth which we shall also point out in subsequent discourses. Therefore, from the very beginning, in all our trials and sufferings let us constantly keep this in mind: in the words of Saint Paul, “the mystery of iniquity is already at work.” It is a battle growing more intense and vicious as time wears on between the Kingdom of God and the Kingdom of Satan over the most precious of all God’s creation; namely, man and the souls of men.

For, since that from his glory in the skies,

Th’apostate angel fell

Burning with envy ever more he tries

To draw our souls in hell.

“Our wrestling is not against flesh and blood, but against the Principalities and the Powers, against the world-rulers of this darkness, against the spiritual forces of wickedness on high”

- Eph., 6, 12.

The existence of evil has ever been a perplexing subject for human discussion. The history of the human race is one of pain, sorrow and trials in this vale of mists and shadows. In the words of the poet:

Nothing begins and nothing ends,

That is not paid with moan;

For we are born in other’s pain,

And perish in our own.

From the cradle to the grave, man finds himself thwarted in many ways. He must submit to physical weakness, dissolution and decay. He often endures mental agony, anxiety and remorse. He feels the full development of his latent powers forever hampered by these and similar afflictions.

Again, man experiences many internal conflicts. His human nature stands midway between the purely spiritual and the wholly material order. He is allied to the Angels because of his spiritual soul, and akin to the irrational creatures because of his material body over which reason strives to exercise dominion. He observes a lack of harmony between nature and conscience. His human nature seems constantly prone to the things which his conscience disapproves. The very elements, the powers of the universe, seem to be at war with one another. He observes the convulsions on land and sea through earthquakes, hurricanes and cyclones. The history of nations and individuals is one of unceasing wars and conflicts. Confronted with such an irrefutable array of facts, man has forever sought to fathom the basic causes for all these evils so prevalent on this earth.

The unbeliever, forever trying to explain all things through natural causes, points to the existence of evil as another proof for his denial of a personal God. For such, evil is merely another aspect of the continuous change and development of the universe, always striving towards higher perfection and the elimination of moral evil. In the words of Nietzche, their prophet, we find it stated that evil is purely relative, moral evil is but transitory, and man in his present state is an animal not yet properly adapted to his environments.

As Christians, we approach the problem of evil from a different angle. We trace the history of the human race back through the centuries to its very cradle. From the revealed Word we learn that man, endowed with understanding and free will, was originally the crown of God’s creation; that he was placed in the Garden of Paradise with the promise from His Maker that if he remained faithful he would enjoy a life of unceasing happiness here on earth, and eternal bliss in the world beyond. In the words of Saint Augustine: “Man lived in Paradise as he would, so long as he would have what God had ordered. He lived enjoying the Good whereby he was good; he lived without any want, having it in his power so to live always. There was the tree of life to prevent the wasting away of old age. Nothing of corruption in his body or from his body, caused any annoyance to any of his senses. There was no fear of disease within him nor of any blow from without. Perfect soundness of his flesh; entire tranquillity in his soul. There was no breath of sadness nor any folly of mirth, but true joy perpetuated from God. ‘Charity from a pure heart and a good conscience and faith unfeigned’ (I Tim. 1, 5) set him on fire with love of God. His mind and body kept watch in harmony together. The keeping of the commandments cost him no trouble.”

The first man, then, possessed a body completely subject to his soul. His senses obeyed the behests of reason, and his reason and free will were in perfect accord with the laws of God. Adam was wholly immune from the concupiscence of the flesh; and thus, without labor or effort, he was perfectly obedient to his Creator. And his joy and happiness consisted in doing homage to God, in admiring His wisdom and goodness as displayed by the splendours of the garden of delights.

But meanwhile a rebellion had gone on within the very gates of heaven. Lucifer, the “Lightbearer,” with his followers had rebelled and were cast out of heaven. He came to establish the Kingdom of Satan on earth. From his little catechism, every child knows the story of the fall of Adam and Eve. By the unbeliever, the story of the forbidden fruit is met with ridicule. But the object, like the fruit of the tree, might be trivial; it was the test of loyalty that mattered. Is there anything more sacred in the eyes of a soldier than a soldier’s loyalty to the flag of his country? In itself it is but a few yards of coloured cloth, intrinsically worth a trifling sum of money; yet, to the soldier it represents the honour of his country, the safety of his home and hearth. Therefore, a soldier will sacrifice his very life rather than see his country’s flag fall into the hands of the enemy. And he is honoured as a hero, a martyr for home and country. For Adam the tree and the fruit were a test, a symbol of his loyalty and obedience to his God. At that fateful moment, as representative of the human race, Adam lost all the prerogatives that had been promised to him and his posterity. “By one man sin entered into this world, and by sin death, and so death passed upon all men in whom all have sinned” (Rom. 5, 12). All other physical evils are comprised in this supreme evil, death. For they all lead up to it and are all, in their several ways, contributory causes of death.

Here, in brief, we have the origin of the Kingdom of Satan versus the Kingdom of God here upon earth. With the primeval fall, a vital change came over our first parents, and subsequently over their progeny, affecting alike their soul and their body. “As a tree struck by the fiery blast of the storm stands shivered, shattered and charred, a memorial of the fury of the elements, so was the first man, the first sinner stricken, and stripped of the fair vesture of grace that had hitherto drawn on him the complacency of God Himself.” In the words of Milton, the poet,

Of man’s first disobedience and the fruit

Of that forbidden tree whose mortal taste

Brought death into the world and all our woes,

With loss of Eden . . .

It is the most calamitous and far-reaching catastrophe that has ever befallen the human race. It has caused convulsions that have continued down through the centuries, and will continue until the end of time. Henceforth the powers of evil are forever arrayed against the powers of good. And every personal sin of ours adds further fuel to the struggle.

“Consider him who endureth such opposition, so that you may not grow weary and lose heart. Therefore brace up the hands that hang down, and the tottering knees”-Heb. 12; 3, 12.

Since the fall of our first parents a pall of sorrow and gloom has descended upon the human race. The whole world was struck with a blight and seared when man, the crown of creation, endowed with understanding and free will, turned from the Creator in favour of His creatures. The gravity of this original sin can be measured only by its effects. To be born, to suffer the first transgression of man’s will against God, and to die has been the common lot of man ever since. The revolt of man’s body against the spirit followed. Let us stress this fact and always remember it whenever we dwell on sin and suffering. It is the condition of the world as we enter it. As a member of the human race we inherit it. Our personal sins later in life may intensify our personal sufferings, but the initial or primary cause of our suffering is not of our making.

Many people believe that our personal sins are the sole cause of all our sufferings; that through our own transgressions we have incurred God’s disfavour and are being punished. This is not wholly correct; only a secondary or added reason for suffering. Take, for example, our Divine Saviour who came to redeem us. He suffered as no other man has ever suffered. His sinless body was subject to hunger, cold, thirst; He suffered in body and in mind; from His friends and from His persecutors alike; from Gethsemani to Golgotha His sufferings were so great that, in the words of the prophet, He could cry out: “Whose sorrows can be compared to My sorrow?” He suffered to the very last drop of blood for us. Truly, then, do we speak of Him as the Man of Sorrows.

A close second to Jesus is His Blessed Mother Mary. She was the Immaculate Queen and Mother. Yes, the moment she unfalteringly answered the Angel, “Be it done unto me according to thy word,” she made a pact with the mystery of suffering. She was still to be told the significance of the name of her Son, Jesus; but she already knew through the prophet Isaias what the word “Saviour” implied. And as the years wore on, she was to learn still more piercingly the meaning of her role as Mother of a God Crucified. “Eve was a sinful motherless—mother of men; Mary was the sinless Virgin-Mother among the members of a sinful race. Like her Divine Son, the Man of Sorrows, the Queen of Martyrs, the Woman wrapped in silence- the silence of a sorrowing heart.”

“Whom the Lord loveth, he chastiseth” (Prov. 3, 12). We, His servants, can be no greater than the Master. Therefore, Jesus and Mary show us the way to suffer, the meaning of suffering, and the purpose of suffering. The highest and the lowest of God’s creatures, the richest and the poorest must accept suffering as a portion of their atonement for a fallen race. Every faculty of man entered into the first transgression. First came the sense of hearing and seeing that appealed to the pride of intellect as the tempter made his approach; then followed the sense of touch, of taste and smell to influence the will in the transgression. All these faculties, all these senses, become purified through suffering.

The story of Job demonstrates this. Even Satan questioned Job’s goodness and steadfastness if he would be subjected to the trials and tribulations that the less fortunate were heir to. Therefore, God permitted Job to be tried in the crucible. First he lost his wealth. Then followed one catastrophe after another in close succession. He lost his oxen and his sheep; then his servants, his sons and daughters; then followed an attack of ulcers from head to foot, making it impossible to reside with others in the same house; his wife became very upset, and his friends repudiated him as one cursed by God. Did Job murmur? Did he lose faith in his God? No, indeed, but he interpreted all his afflictions correctly. Internal peace of soul meant more to him than all his possessions. His humble reply was: “Naked I came from my mother’s womb, naked will I return thither. The Lord giveth, the Lord taketh away. Blessed be the name of the Lord.” Again: “I know that my Redeemer liveth, and in the last day I shall rise out of the earth, and I shall be clothed again in my skin, and in my flesh I shall see my God. This, my hope, is laid up in my bosom.”

Therefore, as with holy Job, many people may judge rashly when they attribute all sufferings and trials as due to personal sins. We find a striking example in the blind man who was brought to Jesus. Jesus was asked by spectators what personal sins, or what sins of his parents, were the cause of his affliction. Immediately Jesus answered: “Neither has this man sinned, nor his parents, but the works of God were to be made manifest in him” (John 9, 3). In other words, since the fall of man the whole world has become a vale of tears. Now God, in His divine providence, is utilizing all the sufferings of an estranged and blighted world for His own ultimate purpose and the salvation of a redeemed race. We call it the mystery of evil, and when afflictions confront us we can do no better than exclaim: “O the depth of the riches of the wisdom and of the knowledge of God! How incomprehensible are His judgments and how unsearchable His ways!” (Rom. 11, 33–34; Wisdom, 9, 13; Is., 11, 13; I Cor., 2, 16).

But in spite of this vale of tears, there still remains one great consolation that surpasses all suffering and sorrow. It is this: We are not an abandoned people; on God’s own authoritative word, we still have a chance to regain our lost glory. It is true that through the primeval fall man was deprived of all supernatural and preternatural prerogatives which were free gifts from the beginning of creation. But in spite of man’s disobedience and infidelity, God did not take from man his greatest prerogatives; namely, his understanding and free will, Free will still sets a royal crown upon the head of every rational being, even after the fall. “God made man from the beginning, and left him in the hand of his own counsel” (Ecclus. 15, 14). Freedom is a sequel to the spirituality of the soul. By it, and by it alone, we are still able to perform meritorious acts, so that there remains a link, like that between cause and effect, between the good we accomplish and the incomprehensible reward now promised to us by the Redeemer. But we must henceforth regain this reward through pain and suffering. This is the divine plan for all mankind since the fall. In the exercise of our weakened, yet free will, God has added His commandments and precepts to guide us, and His graces and Sacraments to strengthen us so that our free choice may be made in favour of the good. Therefore, in the words of Holy Writ: “Before man is life and death, good and evil, that which he shall choose shall be given him, for the wisdom of God is great” (Ecclus., 15, 18–19).

* * *

“We are receiving what our deeds deserved”-Luke, 23, 41.

No matter from what angle we study the condition of man, we come to the inevitable conclusion that ages ago he engaged in a terrific battle and lost. History testifies that man carries about with him the scars of that primeval conflict. He is like a bird with a broken wing preventing him from soaring as in days of yore. He sees the better things of life before him, but frequently follows the baser instincts. Remorse follows and his conscience begins to prick. Then, in the words of the repentant thief on the cross, we admit: “We are receiving what our deeds deserved”; or, putting it in another way: “we indeed suffer for our sins.” We conclude therefore, that under prevailing conditions, suffering is not only wholesome, but a real necessity.

There is, however, another school of thought that reasons otherwise. The modern world loathes the very thought of suffering. In our so-called enligthened age man seeks comfort, ease, luxury and wealth without suffering. Every new invention promises to make life more pleasant and more comfortable by alleviating pain and drudgery. In short, man aims to rectify and regain through his natural powers what primeval man has lost through his fall from grace with his Maker. He aims to accomplish this in absolute defiance of a God whom he refuses to recognise. He violates and defies God’s commandments and refuses to admit that it is a sin to do so. Here man defiantly poses his own will against God’s will.

Pride is the mother of all evil, says Holy Writ. Intellectual pride is one of the prevailing sins of our day; that pride of intellect which caused such havoc in Paradise, and even in the very outer-courts of heaven! This mad rush of people to worship at the shrine of the intellect and to fortify self with degrees of learning is much akin to the destructive race for armaments, witnessed not long ago among the nations of the earth, which ended with the most destructive war in all human history. No, neither physical prowess nor arid intellectualism will ever save us or bring lasting happiness back into the heart of a bleeding world; neither will affluence nor prosperity which only confirms rebellious man in his defiance. But adversity, affliction and suffering have a sobering effect. They give a sinful man moments for more serious thought. He then finds himself facing the realities of life. And if he is courageous enough, he may learn a wholesome lesson from the repentant thief. He may recall the story of the good thief who, instead of being allowed to roam at large and multiply his sins, was apprehended and condemned to death, the epitome of all suffering. But the good thief’s suffering proved the most precious of all blessings. His eyes met the eyes of the dying Saviour, and the Master melts the icicles about his heart. He admits his guilt to the reprobate on the left, saying: “We are receiving what our deeds deserved.”

And for such as are surfeited with intellectual pride, I would suggest for their consideration the story of the sufferings that converted the persecuting Paul into the fiery Apostle Paul. He had participated in the martyrdom of the disciple Stephen in Jerusalem, but when he was proudly on his way to persecute the Christians in Damascus, God struck him from his steed. Blinded, he heard a voice saying: “Saul, Saul. why dost thou persecute Me? It is hard for thee to kick against the goad” (Acts, 9, 4–5). Every proud and sinful man should remember his reply: “Lord, what wilt Thou have me do?” and then wait for the Lord to speak. God hates sin, but He loves even the sinner with an everlasting love. And if suffering leads a repentant sinner to cry out with King David, “Have mercy on me, 0 Lord, have mercy on me,” then the Lord will speak, saying: “This man is a chosen vessel to Me, to carry My name among nations . . . For I will show him how much he must suffer for My name” (Acts 9, 16).

More or less, we are all sinners in the sight of God. This fact should prompt us to look upon sufferings as a means to atone for our own personal transgressions. If we do, we will then master the mystery of pain and suffering in our own lives. Like Saint Paul, we will then use these salutary means to demonstrate our love for the Man of Sorrows, and glory in Christ and Him Crucified. We will then embrace suffering, conscious of its necessity and its nobility; it will then become our greatest boon in this vale of tears, and a definite guarantee of an eternal glory that is to come.

Therefore, press on, and reach the goal, And gain the prize, and wear the crown; Faint not, for to the steadfast soul “Come wealth, and honour, and renown.

To thine own self be true, and keep

Thy mind from sloth, thy heart from soil.

Press on, and thou shalt surely reap

A heavenly harvest for thy toil.”

“And I, if I he lifted up from the earth, will draw all things to Myself”-John 12, 32.

We must know and understand the meaning of suffering in order to understand the Gospel of Christ. We must live the way of suffering to know the heart of Christ. And once inflamed by the fire of that furnace of divine love, we will understand the purpose and the goal of personal suffering in our own lives. In this light must we interpret the words of the Saviour: “And I, if I be lifted up from the earth, will draw all things to Myself.”

Through the Cross of Christ all suffering has become spiritualised and, with our proper disposition, supernaturalised, it becomes the vehicle in the designs of God through which we regain our lost glory. That is why Christians speak rather of crosses than of suffering. This is especially true of the Saints of God. They understand the affinity between pain and pearls. They look upon suffering as a test of their love for God. The manner in which they bear these trials and tribulations through life serves as a criterion by which they determine to what degree their will conforms to the holy will of God. And we should apply the same criterion to our own wills, to our own lives, under the stress of trials and suffering.

But the modern world thinks and acts otherwise. The world seeks wreaths of roses, not of thorns. Yes, the world loves victory, but to fight for it, suffer for it and die for it, is repulsive to the sensibilities of many. We are living in a world of luxury and ease, which pampers the whims of the body, but completely neglects the soul that vivifies that body. The time and money spent for cosmetics and beauty treatments indicate this modern trend. The extreme height of folly is reached when we hear of some noted actress regularly indulging in semi-barbaric baths of milk and cream. What do we spend per person annually for the spread of the Faith and what do we spend per person annually for luxuries such as cosmetics, tobacco, movies and alcoholic beverages?

Where then, lies the remedy? The remedy lies in our will. Will-power supersedes physical strength and intellectual supremacy. And will-power, be it noted, comes from opposition, from sorrow, from suffering. This is true even in the natural order of things. Here I am reminded of the story of a boy, who had ambitions to become a great track-man. His brother was already known as a fast racer. One night, when they were both sleeping peacefully, a fire suddenly broke out. The older boy died as a result of the fire, and the younger lad’s feet were horribly burnt and mangled. But he never gave up his dream of becoming a champion runner. Operation after operation was performed. And now, for a number of years, he has been known as the fastest human beings on legs.

In the literary field we have similar examples of what will-power can do and accomplish over seemingly unsurmountable obstacles. Take, for example, the beautiful and inspiring writing of Saint Paul while lying in prison; of Saint John the Apostle, while in exile on the desolate island of Patmos; of Dante who, while in exile, gave us the immortal Divina Comedia: of Robert Louis Stevenson who, though broken in health, yet survived to give us his inspiring description of Peter Damian, the leper martyr, as well as many other works. These and many others have taught us this: “He who loses wealth loses much; he who loses a friend loses more; but he who loses courage loses all; and courage grows best among the thorns and briars of adversity.”

Here lies the secret of the Saints: they apply the same rule to spiritual matters. Their infallible rule is, as ours should be, that the human will be continuously in accord with the divine. “I, if I be lifted up, will draw all things to Myself.” But that means crosses and sufferings nobly borne. Too many desire heaven, but do not see the necessity of relinquishing the earth. They want heaven without the Cross, even though the Apostle Paul reminds us that “all those who would live piously in the Lord must suffer.” And elsewhere (Ecclesiasticus) we read: “Great labour is created for all men, and a heavy yoke is upon the children of Adam, from the day of their birth until the day of their burial into the mother of all.” That is why so many Saints, like the lovely Saint Teresa, wished “to suffer or to die” or, like Saint Mary Magdalen de Pazzi, “to suffer, not to die.”

Let us also remember that when the Saints speak of suffering, they do not necessarily mean extraordinary happenings. Everything that occurs is grist for the mill in their estimation. “To those who love God all things work together unto good.” With most of them, as with us, as a matter of common experience, our warfare is mostly with dwarfs and not with giants. In the journey of life it is through the small hazards, the little spiritual combats, that the soul is developed and made capable for greater deeds of valour. That is why the Saints had a predilection for small, unseen acts of mortification and of suffering. A kind word spoken, an uncharitable remark left unsaid, a dislike speedily conquered, our daily tasks well done, no matter what our walk of life may be- herein lies the gateway to the stars, which become the forget-menots of the Angels. Therefore, in conclusion, let me say with the poet:

Count each affliction, whether light or grave,

God’s messenger sent down to thee; do thou

With courtesy receive him; rise and bow;

And, ere his shadow pass thy threshold, crave

Permission first his heavenly feet to lave;

Then lay before him all thou hast, allow

No cloud or passion to usurp thy brow,

Or mar thy hospitality; no wave

Of mortal tumult to obliterate

Thy soul’s marmorial calmness. Grief should be

Like joy, majestic, cleansing, raising, making free;

Strong to consume small troubles, to commend

Great thoughts, grave thoughts, thoughts lasting to the end.

With Ecclesiastical Approval. Sydney, 14–5-1963,

********

The Mystery of Lent

FROM “THE LITURGICAL YEAR”

BY DOM GUERANGER

INDEX

WE may be sure that a season so sacred as this of Lent is rich in mysteries. The Church has made it a time of recollection and penance, in preparation for the greatest of all her feasts; she would, therefore, bring into it everything that could excite the faith of her children, and encourage them to go through the arduous work of atonement for their sins. During Septuagesima, we had the number <seventy,> which reminds us of those seventy years of captivity in Babylon, after which God’s chosen people, being purified from idolatry, was to return to Jerusalem and celebrate the Pasch. It is the number <forty> that the Church now brings before us: a number, as St. Jerome observes, which denotes punishment and affliction.[1]

Let us remember the forty days and forty nights of the deluge[2] sent by God in His anger, when He repented that He had made man, and destroyed the whole human race with the exception of one family. Let us consider how the Hebrew people, in punishment for their ingratitude, wandered forty yeas in the desert, before they were permitted to enter the promised land.[3] Let us listen to our God commanding the Prophet Ezechiel to lie forty days on his right side, as a figure of the siege which was to bring destruction on Jerusalem.[4]

There are two persons in the old Testament who represent the two manifestations of God: Moses, who typifies the Law; and Elias, who is the figure of the Prophets. Both of these are permitted to approach God: the first on Sinai,[5] the second on Horeb;[6] but both of them have to prepare for the great favor by an expiatory fast of forty days.

With these mysterious facts before us, we can understand why it is that the Son of God, having become Man for our salvation and wishing to subject Himself to the pain of fasting, chose the number of forty days. The institution of Lent is thus brought before us with everything that can impress the mind with its solemn character, and with its power of appeasing God and purifying our souls. Let us, therefore, look beyond the little world which surrounds us, and see how the whole Christian universe is, at this very time, offering this forty days’ penance as a sacrifice of propitiation to the offended Majesty of God; and let us hope that, as in the case of the Ninivites, He will mercifully accept this year’s offering of our atonement, and pardon us our sins.

The number of our days of Lent is, then, a holy mystery: let us now learn, from the liturgy, in what light the Church views her children during these forty days. She considers them as an immense army, fighting day and night against their spiritual enemies. We remember how, on Ash Wednesday, she calls Lent a Christian warfare. In order that we may have that newness of life, which will make us worthy to sing once more our <Alleluia,> we must conquer our three enemies: the devil, the flesh, and the world. We are fellow combatants with our Jesus, for He, too, submits to the triple temptation, suggested to Him by satan in person. Therefore, we must have on our armor, and watch unceasingly. And whereas it is of the utmost importance that our hearts be spirited and brave, the Church gives us a war-song of heaven’s own making, which can fire even cowards with hope of victory and confidence in God’s help: it is the ninetieth Psalm.[7] She inserts the whole of it in the Mass of the first Sunday of Lent, and every day introduces several of its verses into the ferial Office.

She there tells us to rely on the protection, wherewith our heavenly Father covers us, as with a shield;[8] to hope under the shelter of His wings[9] to have confidence in Him; for that He will deliver us from the snare of the hunter,[10] who had robbed us of the holy liberty of the children of God; to rely upon the succour of the holy angels, who are our brothers, to whom our Lord hath given charge that they keep us in all our ways,[11] and who, when Jesus permitted satan to tempt Him, were the adoring witnesses of His combat, and approached Him, after His victory, proffering to Him their service and homage. Let us well absorb these sentiments wherewith the Church would have us to be inspired; and, during our six weeks’ campaign, let us often repeat this admirable canticle, which so fully describes what the soldiers of Christ should be and feel in this season of the great spiritual warfare.

But the Church is not satisfied with thus animating us to the contest with our enemies: she would also have our minds engrossed with thoughts of deepest import; and for this end she puts before us three great subjects, which she will gradually unfold to us between this and the great Easter solemnity. Let us be all attention to these soul-stirring and instructive lessons.

And firstly, there is the conspiracy of the Jews against our Redeemer. It will be brought before us in its whole history, from its first formation to its final consummation on the great Friday, when we shall behold the Son of God hanging on the wood of the cross. The infamous workings of the Synagogue will be brought before us so regularly, that we shall be able to follow the plot in all its details. We shall be inflamed with love for the august Victim, whose meekness, wisdom, and dignity bespeak a God. The divine drama, which began in the cave of Bethlehem, is to close on Calvary, we may assist at it, by meditating on the passages of the Gospel read to us by the Church during these days of Lent.

The second of the subjects offered to us, for our instruction, requires that we should remember how the feast of Easter is to be the day of new birth for our catechumens, and how, in the early ages of the Church, Lent was the immediate and solemn preparation given to the candidates for Baptism. The holy liturgy of the present season retains much of the instruction she used to give to the catechumens; and as we listen to her magnificent lessons from both the old and the new Testament, whereby she completed their <initiation>, we ought to think with gratitude of how we were not required to wait years before being made children of God, but were mercifully admitted to Baptism even in our infancy. We shall be led to pray for those new catechumens, who this very year, in far distant countries, are receiving instructions from their zealous missioners, and are looking forward, as did the postulants of the primitive Church, to that grand feast of our Savior’s victory over death, when they are to be cleansed in the waters of Baptism and receive from the contact a new being-regeneration.

Thirdly, we must remember how, formerly, the public penitents, who had been separated on Ash Wednesday from the assembly of the faithful, were the object of the Church’s maternal solicitude during the whole forty days of Lent, and were to be admitted to reconciliation on Maundy Thursday, if their repentance were such as to merit this public forgiveness. We shall have the admirable course of instructions, which were originally designed for these penitents, and which the liturgy, faithful as it ever is to such traditions, still retains for our sake. As we read these sublime passages of the Scripture, we shall naturally think upon our own sins, and on what easy terms they were pardoned us; whereas, had we lived in other times, we should have probably been put through the ordeal of a public and severe penance. This will excite us to fervor, for we shall remember that, whatever changes the indulgence of the Church may lead her to make in her discipline, the justice of our God is ever the same. We shall find in all this an additional motive for offering to His divine Majesty the sacrifice of a contrite heart, and we shall go through our penances with that cheerful eagerness, which the conviction of our deserving much severer ones always brings with it.

In order to keep up the character of mournfulness and austerity which is so well suited to Lent, the Church, for many centuries, admitted very few feasts into this portion of her year, inasmuch as there is always joy where there is even a spiritual feast. In the fourth century, we have the Council of Laodicea forbidding, in its fifty-first canon, the keeping of a feast or commemoration of any saint during Lent, excepting on the Saturdays or Sundays.[12] The Greek Church rigidly maintained this point of lenten discipline; nor was it till many centuries after the Council of Laodicea that she made an exception for March 25, on which day she now keeps the feast of our Lady’s Annunciation.

The Church of Rome maintained this same discipline, at least in principle; but she admitted the feast of the Annunciation at a very early period, and somewhat later, the feast of the apostle St. Mathias, on February 24. During the last few centuries, she has admitted several other feasts into that portion of her general calendar which coincides with Lent; still, she observes a certain restriction, out of respect for the ancient practice. The reason why the Church of Rome is less severe on this point of excluding the saints’ feasts during Lent, is that the Christians of the west have never looked upon the celebration of a feast as incompatible with fasting; the Greeks, on the contrary, believe that the two are irreconcilable, and as a consequence of this principle, never observe Saturday as a fasting-day, because they always keep it as a solemnity, though they make Holy Saturday an exception, and fast upon it. For the same reason, they do not fast upon the Annunciation.

This strange idea gave rise, in or about the seventh century, to a custom which is peculiar to the Greek Church. It is called the <Mass of the Presanctifide,> that is to say, consecrated in a previous Sacrifice. On each Sunday of Lent, the priest consecrates six Hosts, one of which he receives in that Mass; but the remaining five are reserved for a simple Communion, which is made on each of the five following days, without the holy Sacrifice being offered. The Latin Church practices this rite only once in the year, that is, on Good Friday, and this in commemoration of a sublime mystery, which we will explain in its proper place.

This custom of the Greek Church was evidently suggested by the forty-ninth canon of the Council of Laodicea, which forbids the offering of bread for the Sacrifice during Lent, excepting on the Saturdays and Sundays.[13] The Greeks, some centuries later on, concluded from this canon that the celebration of the holy Sacrifice was incompatible with fasting; and we learn from the controversy they had, in the ninth century, with the legate Humbert,[14] that the <Mass of the Presanctified> (which has no other authority to rest on save a canon of the famous Council <in Trullo,>[15] held in 692) was justified by the Greeks on this absurd plea, that the Communion of the Body and Blood of our Lord broke the lenten fast.

The Greeks celebrate this rite in the evening, after Vespers, and the priest alone communicates, as is done now in the Roman liturgy on Good Friday. But for many centuries they have made an exception for the Annunciation; they interrupt the lenten fast on this feast, they celebrate Mass, and the faithful are allowed to receive holy Communion.

The canon of the Council of Laodicea was probably never received in the western Church. If the suspension of the holy Sacrifice during Lent was ever practiced in Rome, it was only on the Thursdays; and even that custom was abandoned in the eighth century, as we learn from Anastasius the Librarian, who tells us that Pope St. Gregory II., desiring to complete the Roman sacramentary, added Masses for the Thursdays of the first five weeks of Lent.[16] It is difficult to assign the reason of this interruption of the Mass on Thursdays in the Roman Church, or of the like custom observed by the Church of Milan on the Fridays of Lent. The explanations we have found in different authors are not satisfactory. As far as Milan is concerned, we are inclined to think that, not satisfied with the mere adoption of the Roman wage of not celebrating Mass on Good Friday, the Ambrosian Church extended the rite to all the Fridays of Lent.

After thus briefly alluding to these details, we must close our present chapter by a few words on the holy rites which are now observed, during Lent, in our western Churches. We have explained several of these in our ‘Septuagesima.’[17] The suspension of the <Alleluia;> the purple vestments; the laying aside of the deacon’s dalmatic, and the subdeacon’s tunic; the omission of the two joyful canticles <Gloria in excelsis> and <Te Deum>; the substitution of the mournful <Tract> for the Alleluia-verse in the Mass; the <Benedicamus Domino> instead of the <Ite Missa est;> the additional prayer said over the people after the Postcommunions on ferial days; the celebration of the Vesper Office before midday, excepting on the Sundays: all these are familiar to our readers. We have now only to mention, in addition, the genuflections prescribed for the conclusion of all the Hours of the Divine Office on ferias, and the rubric which bids the choir to kneel, on those same days, during the Canon of the Mass.

There were other ceremonies peculiar to the season of Lent, which were observed in the Churches of the west, but which have now, for many centuries, fallen into general disuse; we say general, because they are still partially kept up in some places. Of these rites, the most imposing was that of putting up a large veil between the choir and the altar so that neither clergy nor people could look upon the holy mysteries celebrated within the sanctuary. This veil-which was called <the Curtain>, and, generally speaking, was of a purple color-was a symbol of the penance to which the sinner ought to subject himself, in order to merit the sight of that divine Majesty, before whose face he had committed so many outrages. It signified, moreover, the humiliations endured by our Redeemer, who was a stumbling-block to the proud Synagogue. But as a veil that is suddenly drawn aside, these humiliations were to give way, and be changed into the glories of the Resurrection.[18] Among other places where this rite is still observed, we may mention the metropolitan church of Paris, <Notre Dame>.

It was the custom also, in many churches, to veil the crucifix and the statues of the saints as soon as Lent began; in order to excite the faithful to a livelier sense of penance, they were deprived of the consolation which the sight of these holy images always brings to the soul. But this custom, which is still retained in some places, was less general than the more expressive one used in the Roman Church, which we will explain in our next volume-the veiling of the crucifix and statues only in Passiontide.

We learn from the ceremonials of the middle ages that, during Lent, and particularly on the Wednesdays and Fridays, processions used frequently to be made from one church to another. In monasteries, these processions were made in the cloister, and barefooted.[19] This custom was suggested by the practice of Rome, where there is a <Station> for every day of Lent which, for many centuries, began by a procession to the stational church.

Lastly, the Church has always been in the habit of adding to her prayers during the season of Lent. Her discipline was, until recently, that, on ferias, in cathedral and collegiate churches which were not exempted by a custom to the contrary, the following additions were made to the canonical Hours: on Monday, the Office of the Dead; on Wednesday, the Gradual Psalms; and on Friday, the Penitential Psalms. In some churches, during the middle ages, the whole Psalter was added each week of Lent to the usual Office.[20]

ENDNOTES

1 <In Ezechiel,> cap. xxix.

3 Num. xiv. 33.

2 Gen. vii. 12.

4 Exechiel iv. 6.

5 Exod. xxiv. 18.

6 3 Kings xix. 8.

7 Ps. <Qui habitat in at adjutorio,> in the Office of Compline.

8 <Scuto circumdabit te veritas ejus. Office of None.

9 <Et sub pennis ejus.> Sext.

10 <Ipse liberavit me de laqueo venantium.> Tierce.

11 <Angelis suis mandavit de te, ut custodiant te in omnibus viis tuis.> Lauds and Vespers.

12 Labbe, <Concil.> tom i.

13. Labbe, <Concil.> tom. i

14 <Contra Nicetam> tom. iv.

15 Can. 52. Labbe, <Concil.> tom. vi.

16 Anastas. <In Gregorio> II.

17 See their explanation in the volume for Septuagesima.

18 Honorius of Autun. <Gemma animae,> lib. iii. cap. lxvi.

19 Martene. <De antequis Eccles. ritibus,> tom. iii. cap. xviii.

20 <Ibid.>

The Mystery of The Empty Tomb

REV. J. MURTAGH

INDEX

The death of Jesus Christ was surrounded with mystery stranger than the wildest fiction.

Everybody saw the murder.

But nobody could find the body.

From midnight on Maundy Thursday to dawn on Easter Sunday-little more than forty-eight hours—a tragedy, mounting in swift dramatic changes, swept to a climax which has made an ineffaceable mark on human history and forms the focal point of Christian faith and devotion.

All the historians agree that Jesus was arrested in a garden outside Jerusalem, called Gethsemane. If we could turn back the centuries and stand at some vantage point of the old city about 11P.M. on that first Good Friday eve we would have seen a small band of armed men, leading a strangely unresisting figure by torchlight through the darkness, along the rocky defile which led up to the city and the court of the High Priest.

It was approaching midnight on the eve of one of the most solemn of Jewish Festivals—the commemoration of the Passover. A strange hour for a trial and a stranger defiance of the law. For it was illegal to try a capital charge by night. Only actions involving money disputes could be conducted after sunset. The first clearly defined act in this midnight trial, in the court of Caiphas, the High Priest, was the calling of witnesses. According to Jewish custom, the accusers in criminal proceedings were the witnesses. Hebrew jurisprudence, however, was singularly oriented in favour of the prisoner. If the evidence of the witnesses broke down, the prisoner had to be acquitted and, if the evidence submitted was demonstrably false, the witness suffered the penalty of death by stoning.

The charges brought against Jesus were as follows:

1. That He had threatened to destroy the Temple.

2. That He claimed to be the Son of God.

3. That He had stirred up the people against Caesar.

Now the two remarkable things about the trial of Jesus were, first, that the evidence of the witnesses broke down and was rejected by the Court; second, that the prisoner was condemned, not upon the statements of his accusers, but upon an admission extorted from Him under oath.

The whole case for the prosecution was on the point of collapse when the alert brain of Caiphas saved the situation. Although it was illegal for the judge to cross-examine the prisoner, after the evidence of the witnesses had been rejected, Caiphas made a last desperate bid to save his plans from frustration. It was a race against time. Already the small hours of the Festival day were merging into dawn. The Nazarene had to be convicted on a capital charge and the execution and burial completed by sunset. For the morrow was the Sabbath day.

So Caiphas applied the Oath of Testimony. To this a pious and law-abiding Jew had no alternative but to answer. According to the Mischna-the oral juridicoreligious code of the Jews: “If one shall say, I adjure you, by the Almighty, by Sabbaoth, by the Gracious and Merciful, by the long-suffering, by the Compassionate, or by any of the Divine titles, behold they are bound to answer.” Standing in the centre of the tribunal, Caiphas administered this solemn oath to the Prisoner, asking Him whether he was the “Son of the Blessed God.”

With striking definiteness and emphasis, Jesus answered, “Yes, I am.” At a single stroke, Caiphas had achieved his purpose. He swung round upon the assembly and exclaimed: “He has blasphemed; what further need have we of witnesses?” And blasphemy in the Jewish law meant death.

But Rome had yet to give its ratification. Caesar reserved to himself the power over the lives of his subjects. The supreme penalty for crime against the Jewish law had to receive the approval of the Roman governor. At the time, the procurator of Judaea was one Pontius Pilate. A member of a fighting family, he had served for a time in the Germanies. While in Rome, he captured the affections of a Roman girl of high rank, Claudia Procula, illegitimate daughter of Claudia, third wife of Tiberias. His marriage to her served his own interests in an unexpected way, for in A.D. 26 he was appointed Procurator of Judaea, and by a special privilege was allowed to take his wife with him.

Pilate’s handling of the case of Jesus of Nazareth is strange and intriguing. In all his dealings with the Jews, in all his actions, he betrayed a certain timidity and indecision unusual in a Roman official. Certainly he seemed to have one dominating idea-to get Christ acquitted at all costs. He attempted to shift the responsibility to Herod, he acclaimed the prisoner’s innocence three times, he literally washed his hands of the whole affair. His last desperate effort was to offer Barabbas, a notorious Oriental gangster, as a sop to the clamouring mob. It was only when the disturbing cry, “You are no friend to Caesar,” was heard above the tumult, that he finally broke down and gave the sanction of Imperial Rome to the execution of Christ. Why the irresolution and hesitancy of this tough Roman soldier for whom life was cheap and the death of another Jew was little to worry about? When Claudia, his wife, awoke in her gilded boudoir on that fateful morning, she found Pilate already arisen and away on this business of the Nazarene prisoner. She was sorely troubled and a prey to nerves. She had had a dream, a disturbing dream, about Jesus of Nazareth. She called her maid and scribbled a note-almost telegraphic in its urgency-conveying her grave forebodings: “Do not meddle with this innocent man; I dreamed today that I suffered much on his account.” Was this the reason for Pilate’s vacillating uncertainty in his condemnation of Jesus?

The narrow stone flagged streets of Jerusalem were crowded with the Pascal visitors when Jesus emerged, bruised and blood-stained, from the scourging ordered by Pilate and the crown of thorns imposed in mockery by the Roman soldiers, and began the famous “Via Dolorosa” out through the city gate to the hill of Calvary. There he was stripped and nailed, hands and feet, to a wooden cross and crucified between the thieves. The main agony of crucifixion, so we learn from ancient writers, was an excruciating thirst, but Jesus refused the sponge soaked in vinegar and gall which was offered him on the end of a lance. At three o’clock he groaned aloud and breathed his last. A little later, to confirm death, a Roman officer thrust a spear into his side and blood, followed by water, flowed from the lifeless body.

Standing on the edge of the crowd, which was milling around the crest of Calvary, was a dignified figure silently watching the tragedy. His name was Joseph of Arimathea, a personage of social distinction and even of official status, for he was a member of the Sanhedrin. An admirer of the poor man of Nazareth he had courageously opposed his condemnation in the Supreme Council. We are told that “he was a disciple of Jesus, but in secret, for fear of the Jews.” He slipped quietly from the crowd and made his way swiftly to the city up toPilate’s palace. Determined to save the body of Jesus from a felon s grave, he asked Pilate for the remains to give them honourable burial. Pilate verified death by direct inquiry of the centurion and acceded to Joseph’s request. As the sun dipped low to the western horizon, Joseph, accompanied by a city councillor, named Nicodemus, bore the body to his private garden not far from Calvary. Following at a short distance, stunned, grief-stricken, were the holy women companions of Jesus and his followers. They wrapped the remains in a clean linen sheet and laid It to rest in a cave tomb hewn out of solid rock. A great stone was rolled across the entrance and lust before sunset, when the Sabbath began, the hasty burial was completed. And Jesus the poor man of Nazareth lay entombed in a rich man’s sepulchre.

By all ordinary human standards, the story of Jesus Christ should have ended with his death and burial. With the beginning of the Sabbath at sunset on Friday, all further operations at the tomb were strictly forbidden by Jewish law. The Chief priest, however, on the following day came to Pilate, requesting that a guard be set at the tomb for safety till the third day. Pilate abruptly told them to go and guard it themselves. A Temple guard was, therefore, stationed at the sepulchre and the stone sealed.

What happened in the forty hours between the burial on Friday and dawn on Sunday morning no man knows- except perhaps the guards.

But one startling indisputable fact emerges. At dawn on Sunday morning the stone was found rolled away and the tomb empty!

What happened to the body?

No one has ever denied the fact of the empty tomb. There is no hint of doubt in the literature of the period. Moreover, there is no trace in contemporary records of a tomb or shrine becoming the centre of veneration or pilgrimage on the ground that it contained the relics of Jesus. The empty tomb was common ground to Christians and their enemies. To approach the problem scientifically we must investigate all the physical and psychological elements in the situation. Six independent lines of enquiries suggest themselves:

1. That life was not really extinct and that Jesus revived in the cool of the tomb.

2. That Joseph of Arimathea secretly removed the body to a more suitable resting-place.

3. That the body was removed by order of the Roman or the Jewish authorities to prevent possible trouble.

4. That the Apostles stole the remains.

5. That the women who discovered the empty tomb mistook the grave in the early morning, or did not visit it at all and invented the whole story.

The first line can be summarily dismissed. The idea that a man afflicted with frightful lacerations of hands and feet, and suffering from acute loss of blood could arise, move a heavy stone and overpower the guards is too great a tax on human credulity. As for Joseph of Arimathea, the suggestion that the man, who begged the body from Pilate might have removed it seems more plausible but on a closer examination there appears no rational motive, and once again we are faced with the difficulty of evading the guard and the further problem that the new tomb would doubtless have become a shrine for the thousands of Christ’s followers.

The same difficulty of the guards presents itself against the solution that the apostles stole the body. In any case, it is psychologically untenable that the apostles could have carried out so daring a coup. They were beaten and disillusioned men. They utterly collapsed and fled after the arrest of Jesus. Of the two who stealthily followed the midnight trials, Peter cursed and swore that he did not know the man.

Did the authorities-Roman or Jewish-remove the body. Pilate’s intervention can be safely dismissed. He was ob- viously glad to be rid of the business. His answer to the Jews-a curt refusal to change the inscription written for the cross, a blunt rebuff to the request for a Roman guard-betrayed a man in dangerous mood. He was finished with the affair. As for the Jews, they sought from Pilate permission, not to remove the body but to prevent It being removed or stolen by sealing the stone and setting the guard.

The evidence of the women—Mary Magdalen, the Mother of James and their companions—alone remains. Did they mistake the tomb? Did they actually visit it? Did they invent the story? The gospel historians tell us clearly that they saw the burial at Joseph’s tomb. On the Saturday, they prepared spices and ointments, after the custom of the East, to complete the obsequies when the Sabbath was over. It was widely accepted in the East that decomposition set in on or about the third day after death. Naturally they would have preferred to carry out their ministrations on the Saturday, but the Sabbath law forbade it. They were early astir, however, on the Sunday morning. They set out from Jerusalem as it began to dawn. The sun seems to rise quickly in the East and it was doubtless several degrees in the sky as they neared their destination. On the way, we read, they discussed how they were going to have the stone removed. But when they arrived at the tomb they received a shock for which they were totally unprepared.

The stone was already rolled away. The guard was missing. The grave was empty. The idea of a resurrection never crossed their minds. Mary Magdalene immediately rushed back to the disciples, Peter and John, who were in hiding and breathlessly announced: “They have carried the Lord away from the tomb, and we cannot tell where they have taken him.” Were these the actions, was this the language of conspirators, bent on concocting a gigantic falsehood? How did the body of Christ escape the grave?

The lines of enquiry suggested and examined seem to point an alibi for all the suspects and we are still left with the problem of the empty tomb. The solution is startling and surprisingly simple. But we leave it to the reader, with a query to help him on his way.

What happened to the guards?

THE GOSPEL STORY

(The Gospel narratives, according to SS. Matthew, Mark, Luke and John, as combined and harmonized by Archbishop Alban Goodier, S. J.)

1. The Empty Tomb. Matt. XXVIII, 1–7; Mark XVI, 1–7; Luke XXIV, 1–8; John XX, 1. And when the Sabbath was past, Mary Magdalen, and the other Mary, the mother of James and Salome brought sweet spices, that coming they might anoint Jesus. And on the first day of the week, very early in the morning when it was yet dark, they came to see the sepulchre, bringing the spices which they had prepared. And the sun being now risen, they said one to another: Who shall roll us back the stone from the door of the sepulchre? And behold, there was a great earthquake, and looking, they saw the stone rolled back, taken away from the sepulchre. For an angel of the Lord descended from heaven and coming, rolled back the stone, for it was very great, and sat upon it. And his countenance was as lightning, and his raiment as snow, and for fear of him the guards were struck with terror and became as dead men. And the angel answering said to the women: Fear not you; for I know that you seek Jesus who was crucified. He is not here, for he is risen as be said; come and see the place where the Lord was laid. And entering into the sepulchre, they found not the body of the Lord Jesus. And they saw a young man sitting on the right side, clothed with a, white robe. And it came to pass as they were astonished in their own mind at this, behold two men stood by them in shining apparel. And as they were afraid, and bowed down their countenance towards the ground, they said to them: Be not afrighted; why seek you the living with the dead: you seek Jesus of Nazareth who was crucified; he is not here but is risen; behold the place where they laid him. Remember how he spoke unto you when he was yet in Galilee, saying: The Son of man must be delivered into the hands of sinful men, and be crucified.

2. The First Apparition. Matt. XXVIII, 8–15; Mark XVI, 8; John XX, 2. But they, going quickly, fled from the sepulchre with fear and great joy, for a great trembling and fear had seized them. And they said nothing to any man, for they were afraid. (Mary Magdalen ran, therefore, and cometh to Simon Peter, and to the other disciple whom Jesus loved and saith to them: They have taken away the Lord out of the sepulchre, and we know not where they have laid him.) And behold, Jesus met them, saying: All hail. But they came up, and took hold of his feet, and adored him. Then Jesus said to them: Fear not. Go, tell my brethren, that they shall go into Galilee there they shall see me.

They had not finished their journey when some of the guards reached the city, and told the chief priests of all that befell. These gathered with the elders to take counsel, and offered a rich bribe to the soldiers. Let this, they said, be your tale, His disciples came by night and stole him away, while we were asleep. If this should come to the ears of the governor, we will satisfy him, and see that no harm comes to you. The soldiers took the bribe, and did as they were instructed; and this is the tale which has gone abroad among the Jews, to this day.

3. The First Witness. Luke XXIV, 9–11. And going back from the sepulchre, they told all these things to the eleven, and to all the rest. And it was Mary Magdalen, and Joanna, and Mary of James, and the other women that were with them who told these things to the apostles. And these words seemed to them as idle tales; and they did not believe them.

4. Peter and John. Luke XXIV, 12; John XX, 3–10. But Peter rising up went and ran to the sepulchre, and that other disciple, and they came to the sepulchre. And they both ran together, and that other disciple did outrun Peter and came first to the sepulchre, and when he stooped down he saw the linen cloths lying, but yet he went not in. Then cometh Simon Peter following him, and stooping down, be saw the linen cloths laid by themselves, and went into the sepulchre, and saw the linen cloths lying, and the napkin that had been about his head not lying with the linen cloths, but apart, wrapped up into one place. Then that other disciple also went in, who came first to the sepulchre, and he saw and believed. For as yet they knew not the scripture, that he must rise again from the dead. The disciples therefore departed again to their home.

5. Mary Magdalen. Mark XVI, 9–11; John XX, 11–18. But he rising early the first day of the week appeared first to Mary Magdalen out of whom he had cast seven devils. Mary stood at the sepulchre without, weeping. Now as she was weeping, she stooped down and looked into the sepulchre; and she saw two angels in white sitting, one at the head and one at the feet, where the body of Jesus had been laid. They, say to her: Woman, why weepest thou? She saith to them: Because they have taken away my Lord, and I know not where they have laid him. When she had thus said, she turned herself back, end saw Jesus standing; and she knew not that it was Jesus. Jesus saith to her: Woman, why weepest thou? Whom seekest thou? She, thinking it was the gardener, saith to him: Sir, if thou has taken him hence, tell me where thou hast laid him and I will take him away. Jesus saith to her: Mary. She turning, saith to him: Rabboni (which is to say, Master). Jesus saith to her: Do not touch me, for I am not yet ascended to my Father. But go to my brethren and say to them: I ascend to my Father and to your Father, to my God and your God. Mary Magdalen cometh and telleth the disciples that had been with him, who were mourning and weeping: I have seen the Lord and these things he said to me. And they, hearing that he was alive, and had been seen by her, did not believe.

6 . The Disciples at Emmaus. Mark XVI, 12, 13; Luke XXIV, 13–25. And behold after that he appeared in another shape to two of them walking that day as they were going into the country to a town which was sixty furlongs from Jerusalem, named Emmaus; and they talked together of all these things which had happened. And it came to pass that, while they talked and reasoned with themselves, Jesus also drawing near went with them; but their eyes were held that they should not know him. And be said to them: What are these discourses that you hold with one another as you walk and are sad? And the one of them whose name was Cleophas, answering, said to him: Art thou only a stranger in Jerusalem, and hast not known the things that have been done there in these days. To whom he said: What things? And they said: Concerning Jesus of Nazareth, who was a prophet mighty in work and word before God and all the people; and how our chief priests and princes delivered him to be condemned to death and crucified him. But we hoped that it was he that should have redeemed Israel. And now besides all this, today is the third day since all these things were done; yea, and certain women also of our company affrighted us who, before it was light, were at the sepulchre, and not finding his body came saying that they had also seen a vision of angels who say that he is alive. And some of our people went to the sepulchre, and found it so as the women said; but him they found not. Then he said to them: 0 foolish, and slow of heart to believe in all the things which the prophets have spoken. Ought not Christ to have suffered these things and so to enter into his glory? And beginning at Moses and all the prophets he expounded unto them in all the scriptures the things that were concerning him. And they drew nigh to the town whither they were going, and he made as though he would go farther. But they constrained him, saying: Stay with us, because it is towards evening, and the day is now far spent. And he went in with them; and it came to pass, while he was at table with them, he took bread, and blessed, and brake, and gave to them, and their eyes were opened, and they knew him, and he vanished out of their sight. And they said to one another: Was not our heart burning within us whilst he spoke in the way, and opened to us the scriptures? And rising up the same hour, they went back to Jerusalem. And they found the eleven gathered together, and those that were with them saying: The Lord has risen indeed, and hath appeared to Simon. And they told what things were done in the way and how they knew him in the breaking of bread. And they, going, told it to the rest; neither did they believe them.

7. First Appearance to The Apostles. Mark XVI, 14; Luke XXIV 36–43; John XX, 19–23. Now when it was late that same day the first of the week, and the doors were shut where the disciples were gathered together for fear of the Jews, whilst they were speaking these things, at length Jesus appeared to the eleven as they were at table, and came and stood in the midst of them. And he upbraided them with their incredulity and hardness of heart, because they would not believe them who had seen him after he was risen again. And he said to them: Peace be to you; it is I, fear not. But they being troubled and frightened, supposed that they saw a spirit. And he said to them: Why are you troubled, and why do thoughts arise in your hearts? See my hands and feet, that it is I, myself. Handle, and see: for a spirit hath not flesh and bones as you see me to have. And when he had said this, he showed them his hands and feet, and his side. But while they yet believed not and wondered for joy, he said: Have you here anything to eat? And they offered him a piece of broiled fish and a honeycomb. And when he had eaten before them, taking the remains he gave to them. The disciples therefore were glad when they saw the Lord. He said therefore to them again: Peace be to you. As the Father hath sent me, I also send you. When he had said this he breathed on them. And he said to them: Receive ye the Holy Ghost. Whose sins you shall forgive, they are forgiven them; and whose sins you shall retain, they are retained.

8. The Apparition to Thomas. John XX, 24–29. Now Thomas, one of the twelve, who is called Didymus, was not with them when Jesus came. The other disciples therefore said to him: We have seen the Lord. But he said to them: Except I shall see in his hands the print of the nails, and put my finger into the place of the nails, and put my hand into his side, I will not believe. And after eight days again his disciples were within, and Thomas with them. Jesus cometh, the doors being shut, and stood in the midst, and said: Peace be to you. Then he saith to Thomas: Put in thy finger hither, and see my hands; and bring hither thy hand, and put it into my side; and be not faithless, but believing. Thomas answered and said to him: My Lord and my God. Jesus saith to him: Because thou has seen me, Thomas, thou has believed: Blessed are they that have not seen, and have believed.

The Gospels also record appearances of the risen Jesus by the sea of Tiberias (John XXI, 1–24) on the Mount of Galilee (Matt. XXVIII, 16–20; Mark XVI, 15–18) and at the Ascension (Mark XVI, 19–20; Luke, XXIV, 44–53).

Nihil Obstat:

Bernard O’Connor Diocesan censor.

Imprimatur:

@ Justin D. Simmonds

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis 28/1/64

********

The Mystic Mass

F. ASTRUC

INDEX

THE CHRISTIAN’S LIFE IS A MASS

“Tu es sacerdos in aeternum!” What a joy was ours when, on the morning of our ordination, a consciousness of this divine reality dawned in our souls: “Thou art a priest for-ever!” Yes, we were happy then with a happiness we could not measure, a happiness which the passing years have served but to increase.

Many Christians in the world envy us our sacerdotal dignity. Well do I understand their holy jealousy. For their consolation, I would remind them of a truth which they do not perhaps sufficiently recognize-Every Christian has received a true participation in the priesthood of Jesus Christ; as a member of the mystical Body of Christ, he belongs, as St. Peter has authoritatively declared, to “a chosen generation, a kingly priesthood.” St. Ambrose repeats the same truth to the people of Milan: “All the children of the Church are priests; in Baptism they receive the anointing that makes them participate in the Priesthood; the victim which they must offer God is wholly spiritual: this victim is themselves.”

I urge you, then, faithful souls, to rejoice. You have not received the Sacrament of Holy Orders, nevertheless you are spiritually united to the Priesthood; you are not in material fact priests, yet, because you are Christians, you have the sacerdotal character imprinted on your soul, you are endowed with the soul of a priest.

Since this is the case, Our Lord has reserved a share in His Divine Priesthood for you. But, you ask, how are you going to exercise this share in His Priesthood? The answer is, as the priest, by saying Mass.

It is clear that you cannot say a real Mass, like the priest, but you can say a spiritual Mass, a mystic Mass, which bears certain resemblances to the Mass that is celebrated at the Holy Altar: it is the one and only Mass which begins with your life and which will be ended only with your life. This Mass it is possible for you to say is, in certain respects, a reproduction of the priest’s Mass. Hence in your Mystic Mass you can and must find the three essential acts that compose the real Mass: the Offertory, the Consecration and the Communion.

With the aid of analogy and comparison, I will try to give you an understanding of the mystic Mass, and at the same time, I will teach you how to say your Mass well. As I do this, there will dawn a light over your whole life, opening up to the eyes of your soul magnificent and mysterious horizons of whose existence you have perhaps hitherto never dreamed.

I.—THE OFFERTORY

1. To say Mass, the priest needs a host. Then to say your mystic Mass, you, too, must have a host. But where will you seek it? Listen to St. Augustine, as he supplies the answer to your question: “Do not seek outside yourself the host you need: You will find this host in yourselves.” St. Paul makes the same truth evident when he says “I beseech you that you present your bodies a living sacrifice, Holy, pleasing to God.” Now you have the answer to your question: the host of your sacrifice, the host of your Mass, is your own self. You are the host, with all that you are, all that you possess, all that you do.

2. Now you have your host, but it must bear some resemblance to the host that the priest offers.

The priest’s host is formed from the purest wheat; moreover, it is the bread of the azymes, that is to say, unleavened bread.

You, too, must be the bread of the azymes, unleavened bread. The leaven of which I speak is symbolical of all that is not pure, all that is evil, all that is not in accordance with the Christian spirit. You must then remove from yourselves every trace of this evil leaven.

Seek out in yourself, in your mind, in your will, in your heart, in your intentions, all that is too natural. all that is too human, all that is not absolutely worthy of a good, true Christian; seek it out, I say, and then uproot it, destroy it: as each day comes, strip yourself one further degree, purify yourself, sanctify yourself: become each day more supernatural, more pure, more holy, and then your host will resemble in some small degree the priest’s own host.

3. The priest takes his host in his hands and offers it to God. You too have to make the offering of your host, that host which is your own self. Take yourself then, whole and entire, and making no reserves, offer yourself to God. Take your body with all its senses, your soul with all its faculties, your will with all its desires, your heart with all its affections; take each day of your life, with your work, your sufferings, ,your struggles, your strivings, your prayers, your good actions, and say to God: “Lord, all this is Thine, I offer it all to Thee.”

Make this offering of yourself in a spirit of total abandonment and renunciation, in a spirit of generosity and joy. Do not be like Cain who offered God only the least he had to offer; give Him of your best; the best your soul can offer, the best your heart can offer, the best your life can offer. Again do not be like Ananias and Saphira who wanted to keep back a part of their goods: offer God your victim, your host, whole and entire; offer Him all that you are, all that you possess; all that you do; keep nothing back either for yourself or for others.

4. The priest offers his host with the words: “Receive, 0 Holy Father, Almighty and Eternal God, this spotless host, which I, Thy unworthy servant, offer unto Thee, my living and true God, for mine own countless sins, offences and negligences, and for all here present; as also for all faithful Christians living and dead, that it may avail both me and them unto salvation for life everlasting. Amen.” Do you also offer yourself to God and say to Him: “My God, I offer myself to Thee, to be the living host of my family: I desire to be sacrificed, in order that my parents and all those I love may be blessed, sanctified and saved.

My God, I offer myself to Thee, to be the living host of the work to which I have devoted all my interests; I desire to be sacrificed in order that this work may live and prosper.

My God, I offer myself to Thee to be the living host of Thy priests. I desire to be sacrificed in order that I may thereby help Thy ministers, in order that their ministry may be holy and fruitful.

My God, I offer myself to Thee to be the living host of Thy Holy Will. I desire to be sacrificed, in order that I may sanctify myself, in order that I may attain the end of my vocation, in order that I may accomplish my whole mission even to the least iota, in order that I may realise all Thy designs for me.

My God, I offer myself to Thee, to be the living host of Thy love. I desire to be sacrificed in order that Thy name may be blessed, in order that Thy Kingdom may come, in order that Thy Will may be done, in order that Thou mayest be better known, loved and glorified.

My God, I offer myself to Thee to be the tiny living host of sinners. I desire to be sacrificed in order to share in Thy Son’s work of Redemption and in order to make up what is wanting in His Passion, His Sufferings and His Death: I desire to be sacrificed in order to expiate, to repair and to merit, all in union with Him.”

By doing as I have directed you, you will accomplish a noble, a fruitful, a necessary apostolate. Now, more than ever before, the world is in need of generous, saintly souls, living victims of holocaust, who will vow themselves to sacrifice and immolation. Do you then become one of these consecrated souls, these souls united to Jesus Crucified. We shall never know the supernatural influence, the sanctifying, fruitful apostolate we will exercise around us from the hidden sanctuary of our immolation. We shall never know it, I say; only God shall.

Such is the offering you have to make. But remember, your offering ever remains an unfinished work: at every instant of the day and of the night, you can and should renew it and carry it to its completion: so act that your life may be one continual and ceaseless offering. And so doing, you will fulfill the first act of your mystic Mass.

II.—CONSECRATION

The priest, when saying Mass, takes the host he has offered into his hands and pronounces the words of consecration over it.

You too have to consecrate the host you have already offered to God. What the real Consecration of the priest produces in the wheaten host, your mystic consecration must, in a certain manner, produce in you, the living host. I shall try and show you how this mystic consecration is accomplished, and again I shall make my meaning clear by means of analogy and comparison.

1. The priest consecrates his host by pronouncing over it the four words “Hoc est corpus meum”: “This is My Body.” At that same moment as he says the words the substance of the wheat disappears; there remains only what we call the species, the appearance of bread. Hence the first result of the Consecration is the disappearance of the substance of the wheaten host.

You too have to disappear, not suddenly, but gradually, little by little. You will disappear by humiliating yourself, by forgetting yourself, by renouncing yourself, by making self die within you. By realising the ‘I die daily’ of which St. Paul speaks, you will attain to this mystic death of yourself which will be the first act of your Consecration.

2. The words of consecration pronounced by the priest have a second effect even more marvellous than the first: they accomplish what we call transubstantiation. Hence the Consecration is the changing of the substance of wheaten bread into Jesus Christ, into the living Jesus Christ with His Divinity and His Humanity. You, too, must be changed into Jesus Christ: you must become another Christ: I do not say really, that is substantially, but spiritually, in a mystic manner. You have then to consecrate your body, so that it may be in some faint measure pure and holy as the Body of Jesus: you must consecrate your soul so that it may be divinised and in some degree become like the soul of Jesus: you must consecrate your heart, so that it may love just a little as the Heart of Jesus loves; you must consecrate your mind, so that your thoughts may bear some resemblance to the thoughts of the mind of Jesus; you must consecrate your will, so that it may will as the Will of Jesus wills; you must consecrate your life each day, so that, by becoming the continuation, the prolonging, the extension of the life of Jesus, it may be just a little like His life, a life of holiness, charity, apostolate and redemption.

In this spirit, you will work at your consecration, this consecration which is to transform you, to change you gradually into Jesus Christ. And when you are able to say like St. Paul “I live now, no longer I, but Christ liveth in me,” you will have realised the second effect of your mystic consecration.

3. I said before that after the priest’s consecration, there remains only the species, the appearances of bread. Now Jesus makes use of these species, these sacramental appearances, to live His Eucharistic Life.

In the measure in which your mystic consecration is accomplished, in that same measure, will Jesus make use of you to live and act in the world. He will make use of you to think, to speak, to pray, to love, to suffer: He will make use of you to do battle for Him and drive away the enemy; He will make use of you to console, convert and sanctify, to save, to expiate, to make reparation: in a word He will make use of you to continue to go about doing good among men.

Then you will carry out, in some measure, the divine role of the species of the sacramental appearances of the living Host. You yourself will be the species, the living appearances, not sacramental species, but spiritual, mystical species, hiding Jesus behind a veil, concealing His Presence and His action in the world: the life you spend for Jest’s on earth will be as it were a life added to His own life. You will be living members of His mystic Body and in a certain manner you will take the place of His Sacred Humanity on earth.

Revise now the consecration you have to make. See that you understand clearly that your consecration consists in transforming yourself, in changing yourself into Jesus, in making Jesus live within you, in giving Him all that you do, so that He may make use of it; see how, since it is never perfect, never completely accomplished, your consecration must go on at every moment of the day; so act that your life may be a continual consecration of your whole self. So living and so acting, you will perform the second act of your mystic Mass.

III.—COMMUNION

The priest receives as food the Host that he has offered and consecrated and which has become Jesus Christ, and he enshrines it in the sanctuary of his soul. This is Communion, the most intimate divine union of the priest with Jesus.

Of your mystic Mass, too, Communion is the third act. In the same way as the priest, you communicate every time that you receive Our Lord at the Holy Table. This sacramental Communion is the Communion par excellence, the only real Communion in the true sense of the word. But outside Eucharistic Communion, there are other ways of communicating with Christ Jesus, Our Lord. In very truth, every act that unites us to Jesus is a Communion, a spiritual, a mystic communion, no doubt, but still in a sense, a true Communion. So you must look for Jesus wherever He is, everywhere He hides His Presence and you must communicate with Him-unite yourself to Him by communion.

1. Jesus is in the Holy Gospel, which in a certain manner, is a kind of incarnation of Christ hidden beneath the printed word. When you meditate upon the word of God-here I am but repeating the idea of Mgr. Landriot, who gives a summary of the doctrine of the Holy Fathers on Spiritual Communion in Christ-when you bring to light the divine significance of the sacred text, when you penetrate into the inmost depths of its priceless treasury, a true eucharistic mystery takes place within you, the Word enters into your soul, nourishes your mind, inflames your heart, renews your life, and transforms you into Himself: at that moment, you enter into communion with Jesus hidden under the Holy Gospel.

2. Jesus is in souls that are in the state of grace. He Himself has declared in a formal, public discourse that He dwells in such souls in a permanent manner. “If any man love Me, He will keep My word, and My Father will love him, and We will come to him, and make Our abode in him.” On many other occasions He confirmed these same truths. Consequently when you are united by the bonds of thought, affection or charity to souls that possess the life of grace, you are communication with Jesus living in them.

3. Jesus is in little children, He is in the humble, the poor. He is in all those who suffer. Again, it is Jesus Himself who has told us this “Amen, amen I say to you, all that you do to one of these My little ones, you do unto Me.” Hence when you are engaged in the intellectual, moral or religious formation of little children; when you give your services and help those in need; when you visit and look after the sick; when you fulfill the role of consoling Angel or of the Cyrenean for those who have a Cross to carry or a Calvary to climb; when you impart some tiny portion of joy and happiness to those who are beggars in this world’s goods; in all these circumstances, you are communicating with Jesus.

4. Jesus is in your Superiors. Call to mind the exquisite words of the young Carmelite, Sr. Elizabeth of the Trinity, words that breathe the very air of the supernatural. One of her Sisters had just been to visit her in her poor, humble sick-room and as she was going out of the cell, she said: “I am leaving you now to go and see our Mother Superior.” “Ah,” said Sr. Elizabeth, “you are going to see our Mother Superior. Profit well from your visit; it is a sacrament.” Hence when you are in the presence of your Superiors, your mother, your father, your director, when you listen attentively to their advice, and their commands, when you obey and carry out those orders to the best of your ability, you are communicating with Jesus present in them.

5. Jesus is in all that you do. Every action, every sacrifice, every smallest detail of your everyday life, all of these are, in Father Faber’s words, “so many sacraments, so many real presences’ for God is found buried in each of them.” So when you endeavour to follow out the advice of St. Paul, striving to have “that mind in you which was also in Christ Jesus,” when you are striving to think, to will, to love, to feel as Our Lord Himself did, do you know what you are really doing then? You are communicating with the interior life of Jesus: you are communicating with His mind, His Will; His Heart; His Soul. Our Divine Lord said: “I have given you an example, that as I have done to you, do you also.”

When you fulfill this precept of the Master, you set yourself to work to produce His way of life, His conduct towards others, towards events as they come to pass, towards all circumstances of life. And when you do do this, what in reality are you doing? You are communicating with the exterior life of Jesus. When you are suffering in body, in soul in heart; when weighted down with the weight of your Cross you climb the steep and painful Calvary of your life; when stretched out upon your Cross, you offer expiation, you make reparation, you gain merit for yourself and for others, do you know what you are doing then? When Father Faber says “suffering is the greatest of the Sacraments,” he gives you the answer-you are communicating with the Passion of Our Saviour.

When you visit the poor and the sick and do good to those who are in suffering; when you help in the sanctification of souls by teaching Catechism, by helping in the work done in orphanages and such undertakings of zeal; when you give the example of Christian virtue to those around you; when you say a good, a kind word in the right place, a word that brings consolation, encouragement, edification; a word that heals a hurt, a word that is productive of good, do you reflect on what you are then doing? You are communicating with the Apostolate of Jesus.

When you give yourself to recollection, when you pray, when you meditate, you are communicating with the prayer of Jesus.

So you see how by uniting yourself to Jesus sacramentally or spiritually, by participating in His interior and in His exterior life, you are communicating just as the priest does. But you must carry your resemblance to Him to its very utmost limits. The priest saying Mass is not selfish: he shares his Victim, his Host, with his brethren. And you must do likewise. You communicate with Jesus, but do not keep Jesus within you for yourself alone: give Him to others. For the members of your family, for your friends, for all those with whom you live, you must be a living Eucharist, a living Eucharistic table; invite them all to sit down at the Banquet of your soul and your heart; share with them your thoughts, your affections, your words, your good works. In an overflowing of charity and generosity, distribute to them the Jesus Who is in you. Following the counsel of St. Frances de Sales: “Have Jesus ever in your mind, in your heart, in your breast, in your eyes, in your hands, on your tongue, in your ears, and on your feet.” And then distribute Him, give Him, communicate Him to all with whom you come in contact, to everyone who draws near to you. “You are my living Sacrament” Jesus once said to a mystic of our own day. “I give Myself to thee and through thee to souls.” He says these very same words to each of us.

I think that you now understand what it means to communicate with Jesus: I think too you now understand that this kind of communion is easy and possible at every moment: then so act that your life may be one continuous Communion with Jesus. And thus you will accomplish the third act of your mystic Mass.

And now, my dearly beloved children of Christ, remember that you have a priestly soul, and that you have a Mass to say. Each day and many times each day, ascend the altar of your heart, repeating the words of the priest: “Introibo ad altare Dei”- “I shall go into the Altar of God.” And say your Mystic Mass. Say it first of all for yourself, that you may always remain faithful to Jesus, His own faithful friend; say it for your parents, for your friends, for all those who are dear to you and whom you love, that Jesus may bless them and guard them for you: say it for the Church and for your own country that they may safely cross the stormy seas of strife and trial, that Jesus may shorten the days of stress and hasten the dawn of deliverance and triumph.

Remember too that you must say your Mass as the priest says his; holily, with faith, reverence and love. Remember too that your Mass will be always a Mass that has commenced but never ended, and so you must go on saying it continually until the final call, of the Angel of Death. Then only will you finish your Mystic Mass: your last words on earth will be “Ite, missa est” and in Heaven you will eternally reply “Deo Gratias!”

Nihil Obstat:

A. KELLY, S.J. Censor Deputatus.

Imprimatur:

MICHAEL,

Archiep. Sydneyen. 6 November, 1936.

********

The Nativity of Christ

OR CHRISTMAS DAY

REV. ALBAN BUTLER

INDEX

THE world had subsisted about four thousand years, and all things were accomplished which, according to the ancient prophets, were to precede the coming of the Messias, when Jesus Christ, the eternal Son of God, having taken human flesh in the womb of the Virgin Mary, and being made man, was born of her for the redemption of mankind. The all-wise and all-merciful providence of God had, from the fall of our first parents, gradually disposed all things for the fulfilling of his promises, and the accomplishing the greatest of all his mysteries, the incarnation of his divine Son. Had man been restored to grace as soon as he had forfeited it, he would not have been sufficiently sensible of the depth of his horrible wounds, nor have had a just feeling of the spiritual blindness, weakness, and wretchedness in which he lay buried under the weight of his guilt. Neither would the infinite mercy, power, and goodness of God, in saving him, have appeared in so great lustre. Therefore man was left grovelling in his miseries for the space of so many thousand years, only enjoying a glimpse of his future redemption in the promise and expectation of it; which still was sufficient to raise those to it who did not shut their eyes to this light. God always raised several faithful servants, and even when most nations, from following the bent of their passions, fell into the most deplorable spiritual blindness, and abandoned His knowledge and true worship to transfer His honour to the basest of creatures and the most criminal objects, He reserved to Himself a peculiar people among which He was known and served, and many were saved through faith and hope in this promised Redeemer, then to come. All this time the saints never ceased with sighs and tears to beg that this “Desired of all Nations “[1] might speedily make His appearance; and by these inflamed desires they both disposed themselves to receive the fruit of His redemption, and moved God to hasten and most abundantly to pour forth His mercy.

God, who with infinite wisdom brings things to maturity and perfection in their proper season, disclosed this to men partially and by degrees. He gave to Adam a promise and some knowledge of it.[2] He renewed the same to Abraham, limiting it to his seed.[3] He confirmed it to Isaac and Jacob.[4] In the prophecy of this latter it was fixed in the tribe of Judah.[5] It was afterwards clearly determined to belong to the posterity of David and Solomon; which was repeated in all the succeeding prophets. In these all the particular circumstances of Christ’s birth, life, death, and spiritual kingdom in His church are expressed; the whole written law which was delivered to Moses consisted of types expressive of the same, or alluding to Him. The nearer the time approached the fuller was the revelation of Him. The prophecy of turning “swords into ploughshares, and lances into pruning-hooks,”[6] &c., expressed that a profound peace in which the world should be was to be an emblem of the appearance of the “Prince of Peace.” According to the prophecy of Jacob,[7] the sceptre was to be removed from the tribe of Judah” to show the establishment of the new spiritual kingdom of the Messiah, which is to endure to the end of the world. According to Aggaeus,[8] and Malachi,[9] the Messiah was to appear whilst the second temple stood, which was thee of Solomon, restored after the captivity. Daniel foretold the four great empires which succeeded one another, the first of which were to be destroyed by the latter, viz.: of the Medes, Persians, Macedonians, and Romans, each marked by very distinguishing characters.[10] The seventy weeks of years predicted by Daniel[11] determine the time of the coming of the Messias and of his death. For from the order of King Artaxerxes Longimanus for the rebuilding of Jerusalem seven weeks were to pass in the execution of that work in difficult times; and sixty-two more, that is, with these seven, sixty-nine to the manifestation of Christ, who was to be slain in the middle of the seventieth week, and his death was to be followed by the destruction of the city and temple; it was to expiate <iniquity>, to establish the reign of eternal <justice>, and to accomplish the visions and prophecies. The Gentiles had also received some glimmerings of this great event; as from the prediction ofBalaam foretelling a star to arise from Jacob[12] All over the East, at the time of our Saviour’s birth, a great deliverer of mankind was firmly expected, as the pagan historians expressly affirm. Suetonius[13] writes as follows:

“There had prevailed all over the East an ancient and constant notion that the fates had decreed that about that time there should come out of Judea those who should obtain the empire of the world.” And Tacitus says,[14] “A firm persuasion had prevailed among a great many that it was contained in the ancient sacerdotal books that, about this time, it should come to pass that the East should prevail, and that those who should come out of Judea should obtain the empire of the world.” Josephus, the Jewish historian, took occasion from hence to flatter Vespasian, as if he had been the Messias foretold by the prophets;[15] “and the great number of impostors who pretended to this character among the Jews in that and the following century is a clear proof of this belief amongst them about the time.[16]

When Jesus Christ was born, the seventy weeks of Daniel were near being accomplished, and the sceptre was departed from the house of Judah, whether we restrain this to that particular tribe, or understand it of the whole Jewish nation, so as to give a main share only to that tribe. For Herod, though a Jew by religion, was by birth an Idumean, as Josephus, whose testimony is unexceptionable, informs us, relating how his father, Antipas, who chose rather to be called by the Greek name Antipater, was made, by King Alexander Jannaeus, governor of his own country, Idumea. Herod was raised to the throne by the Romans, excluding the princes of the Asmonean or Jewish royal family, whom Herod entirely cut off; as he did also the principal members of the Sanhedrim, or great council, by which that nation governed itself by its own laws under its kings. This tyrant, moreover, stripped that people of all their other civil rights. Soon after, they were made a Roman province; nor was it long before their temple was destroyed and their whole nation dispersed, so that the Jews themselves are obliged to confess that the time foretold by the prophets for the coming of the Messias is long since elapsed. Christ was born at the time when the Roman or fourth empire, marked by Daniel, was exalted to its zenith by Augustus, who reigned fifty-seven years from his first command of the army at nineteen years of age: and forty-four from the defeat of Antony, his partner in the empire, in the battle of Actium. God had preordained the greatness of the Roman empire for the more easy propagation of the gospel over so many nations which formed one monarchy. Augustus had then settled it in peace. A decree was issued by Augustus, and published all over the Roman empire, ordaining that all persons, with their estates and conditions, should be registered at certain places, according to their respective provinces, cities, and families. It was the custom at Rome to make a census or registration of all the citizens every five years, which term was called a lustrum. This general register of all the subjects of the empire, with the value of their estates, was probably ordered that the strength and riches of each province might be known. It was made in Syria and Palestine by Cyrinus. Quintilius Varus was at that time proconsul of Syria, on whom the procurator or governor of Judea in some measure depended after it was made a Roman province. Cyrinus succeeded Varus in the government of Syria about ten years after Herod’s death, when his son Archelaus was banished and Judea made a province of the empire. Cyrinus then made a second register; but he made the first in the time of Varus, in which he might act as extraordinary deputy, at least for Palestine, then governed by Herod; or this enregistration is all attributed to him because it was finished by him afterwards. This decree was given by the emperor for political views of state; but proceeded from an overruling order of providence that, by this most authentic public act, it might be manifest to the whole world that Christ was descended of the house of David and tribe of Judah. For those of this family were ordered to be registered at Bethlehem, a small town in the tribe of Judah, seven miles from Jerusalem to the south-west. This was called David’s-town; and was appointed the place where those that belonged to his family were to be enrolled.[17] Joseph and Mary were perhaps natives of this place, though they then lived at Nazareth, ninety miles almost north from Jerusalem. Micheas had foretold[18] that Bethlehem (called by the Jebusites who first built it, Ephrata) should be ennobled by the birth of Christ. Mary, therefore, though with child, by the special direction of providence, undertook this tedious journey with her husband in obedience tothe emperor’s order for their enrolment in that city; and it is believed that with St. Joseph, also Mary and her infant Jesus were enrolled; of which Origen,[19] St. Justin,[20] Tertullian,[21] and St. Chrysostom[22] make no doubt. All other characters or marks of the Messias, mentioned by the prophets, agree to Jesus Christ.[23]

To show the divine Jesus’s descent from David and Judah, the evangelists, St. Matthew and St. Luke, give his pedigree-but designedly different, that this noted character of the Messias might be demonstrated by his double genealogy. The reason of this difference was at that time public and known to everyone, and so was not mentioned. It seems most probable that St. Luke gives the natural and St. Matthew the legal line of Joseph, who had been adopted into the latter by the frequent case specified in the law of Moses. St. Chrysostom puts us in mind to take notice of the astonishing mercy and humility of our divine Redeemer in this circumstance, that he did not disdain, in order to save sinners, to choose a pedigree in which several notorious sinners are named; so much did he humble Himself to satisfy for, and to cure our vanity and pride. The same father, upon reading the exordium of St. Matthew’s gospel and of this pedigree, breaks outinto this vehement pathos[24] “What cost thou say, O evangelist? Thou hast promised to speak of the only begotten Son of God, and cost thou name David? Admire that the natural Son of God, who is without a beginning, would suffer Himself to be called the son of David, that He might make you the Son of God.” The circumstances of the great mystery, and the wonderful manner in which it was performed, ought to attract our whole attention, and be the object of our pious meditations and devotions, particularly on this holy festival.

The Blessed Virgin and St. Joseph, after a painful journey of at least four days in a mountainous country, arrived at Bethlehem. There they found the public inns, or caravansaries (such as is customary in the East), already full; nor were they able to procure any lodgings in the town, every one despising and rejecting their poverty. Do we spiritually invite Jesus into our hearts and prepare a lodging for his reception in our affections? This is the entertainment He is infinitely desirous of, and which He came from heaven to seek. By spiritual nakedness, coldness, sloth, or sin, a Christian soul refuses Him admittance. Of such treatment He will justly complain much more than of the people of Bethlehem. Joseph and Mary, in this distress, retired into a cave made on the side of a rock, which is called a stable, because it served for that purpose, perhaps for the use of those who lodged at the caravansary. It is a common tradition that an ox and an ass were in it at that time. This circumstance is not mentioned in holy scripture, but it is supported by the authority of St. Jerome, St. Gregory Nazianzen, St. Gregory of Nyssa, and Prudentius produced by Baronius; and if the blessed travellers came not on foot, they must have had their own ass with them. In this place the holy mother, when her time was come, brought forth her divine Son without the pain of other mothers; remaining both in and after his conception and birth a pure virgin. With what joy and holy respect did she behold and adore the newborn infant; the Creator of all things made man for us! She wrapped Him in swaddling-clothes, such as her poverty had allowed her to prepare, and with holy awe laid Him in the manger. “With what solicitude did she watch Him!” says St. Bonaventure.[25]”With what reverence did she touch Him whom she knew to be her Lord! In like manner are we to admire, with St. Bernard, “How the holy man Joseph would often take Him upon his knees, smiling at Him.” We ought also to contemplate how the choirs of angels, descending from above in raptures of astonishment, adore their God in this new wonderful state to which mercy and love have reduced Him, and salute Him with hymns of praise. We are invited to join them in the persons of the holy shepherds. God was pleased that his Son, though born on earth with so much secrecy, and in a state of the most astonishing humiliation, should be acknowledged by men, and receive the first fruits of their homages and devotion upon his first appearance among them. Who are they that are favored with the honour of this heavenly call? The great ones of the world are passed over on this occasion. They are chosen whose character, by their very station, is simplicity and humility; and whose obscurity, poverty, and solitude removed them from the principal dangers of worldly pride and were most agreeable to that love and spirit of retiredness, penance, and humility which Christ came to recommend. Nor can we doubt but they adorned their state with the true spirit of this simplicity and devotion. These happy persons were certain shepherds who, being strangers to the sensuality and pride of the world, were at that time keeping the watches of the night over their flock. Whilst the sensual and the proud were asleep in soft beds, or employed in pursuits of voluptuousness, vanity, or ambition, an angel appeared to these humble poor men, and they saw themselves encompassed with a great brightness. They were suddenly seized with exceeding great fear, but the heavenly messenger said to them, “Fear not: for behold I bring you good tidings of exceeding great joy, that shall be to all the people. For this day is born to you a Saviour, who is Christ the Lord, in the city of David. And this shall be a sign to you: you shall find the child wrapped in swaddling-clothes, and laid in a manger.” Suddenly then appeared with the angel a multitude of heavenly spirits praising God and saying, “Glory be to God in the highest; and on earth peace to men of good-will.” After the departure of the angels, the wondering shepherds said one to another, “Let us go over to Bethlehem, and let us see this word that is come to pass, which the Lord hath showed to us.” They immediately hastened thither and found Mary and Joseph, and the infant lying in the manger. Here they did homage to the Messias as to the spiritual king of men, and then returned to their flocks, glorifying and praising God.[26] Mary was very reserved amidst these occurrences and continued silent in her deportment, but observed all these things, with secrecy pondering them in her heart.

The angel calls this wonderful mystery a subject of great joy to all the people. Indeed, our hearts must be insensible to all spiritual things if they do not overflow with holy joy at the consideration of so glorious a mercy, in which is displayed such an excess of the divine goodness, and by which such inestimable benefits and so high an honour accrue to us. The very thought and foreknowledge of this mystery comforted Adam in his banishment from Paradise. The promise of it sweetened the laborious pilgrimage of Abraham. The same encouraged Jacob to dread no adversity, and Moses to brave all dangers and conquer all difficulties in delivering the Israelites from the Egyptian slavery. All the prophets saw it in spirit with Abraham, and they rejoiced. If the expectation of it gave the patriarchs such joy, how much ought the accomplishment to create in us! Joy is defined the delight of a rational creature arising from the possession of a desired object. It must then be proportioned to the nature of the possession; consequently, it ought to be as much greater in us as the fruition of a good surpasses the promise, possession the hope, or fruit the blossom. This St. Peter Chrysologus illustrates with regard to this difference of the Old and New Law as follows:

“The letter of a friend,” says he, “is comfortable, but his presence is much more welcome; a bond is useful, but the payment more so; blossoms are pleasing, but only till the fruit appears.The ancient fathers received God’s letters, we enjoyhis presence; they had the promise, we the accomplishment; they the bond, we the payment.” Christians who rejoice with a worldly, vain, or carnal mirth are strangers to the Spirit of God and his holy joy. Some exterior marks of this joy are allowed, provided they be not sought for themselves, but such as suit a penitential state and Christian gravity, both by their nature and extreme moderation that is held in them; and, lastly, provided motives of virtue sanctify them, and they express and spring from an interior spiritual joy, which is altogether holy. If sensuality have any share in our festivals, they are rather heathenish Bacchanals than Christian solemnities, and on them we feed and strengthen those passions which Christ was born only to teach us to subdue. To sanctify this feast we ought to consecrate it to devotion, and principally to the exercises of adoration, praise, and love. This is the tribute we must offer to our newborn Saviour when we visit Him in spirit with the good shepherds. With them we must enter the stable and contemplate this mystery with a lively faith, by which, under the veils of this infant body, we discover the infinite majesty of our God.

To contemplate immensity shut up in a little body, omnipotence clothed with weakness, the eternal God born in time, the joy of angels bathed in tears, is something far more wonderful than to consider God creating a world out of nothing, moving the heavens, and weighing the universe with a finger This is a mystery altogether unutterable; to be adored in silence and in raptures of admiration not to be declared by words. “How can anyone speak of the wonder which is here wrought amongst us?” says St. Fulgentius[27] “A man of God, a creature of his Creator, one who is finite, and was born in time, ofHim who is immense and eternal.” Another eminent servant of God cries out upon this mystery[28] “O Lord our God, how admirable is thy name over all the earth! Truly thou art a God working wonders. I am not now astonished at the creation of the world, at the heavens, at the earth, at the succession of days and seasons; but I wonder to see God inclosed in the womb of a virgin, the Omnipotent lain in a manger, the eternal Word clothed with flesh.” The eternal Father, when He brought his Son into the world, laid on them his commands, saying, “Let all the angels of God adore Him.”[29] Though they neither wanted invitation nor command, their own devotion being their prompter. O! what must have been their sentiments when they saw a stable converted into heaven by the wonderful presence of its king, and beheld that Divine Infant, knowing His weak hands to be those which framed the universe and bordered the heavens with light; and that by Him both the heavens and the earth subsist? Are they not more astonished to contemplate Him in this humble hidden state than seated on the throne of His glory? Shall not man, for whom this whole mystery is wrought, and who is so much favoured and so highly privileged and ennobled by the same, burn with a holy ardour to perform his part in this duty, and make the best return he is able of gratitude, adoration, and praise? To these exercises we ought to consecrate a considerable part of our devotions, especially on this festival, repeating with fervour the psalms which chiefly consist of acts of divine praises, the hymn of thanksgiving used by the church, commonly ascribed to St.Ambrose and St. Austin, and the angelical hymn, “Glory and praise be given by all creatures to God alone in the highest heavens; and peace (or pardon, reconciliation, grace, and all spiritual happiness) to men of goodwill.” In our devotions, also, acts of love ought to challenge a principal part, the Incarnation of the Son of God being the mystery of love; or, properly, a kind of ecstasy of love in which God strips Himself, as it were, of the rays of his glory to visit us, to become our brother, and to make Himself in all things like to us.

Love is the tribute that God challenges of us in a particular manner in this mystery: this is the return which He requires of us for all He has done and suffered for us. He says to us, “Son, give me thy heart.” To love Him is our sovereign happiness, and the highest dignity and honour to which a creature can aspire. But we are bound to it upon the title of the strictest justice. God, being infinite in all perfections, is infinitely worthy of our love, and we ought to love Him with an infinite love if we were capable of it. We are also bound to love Him in gratitude, especially for the benefit of his Incarnation, in which He has given us Himself, and this in order to rescue us from extreme miseries and to bestow on us the most incomprehensible graces and favours. Man had sinned and was become the associate of the devil. Almost all the nations of the earth had, by blindly following their passions, at length fallen into a total forgetfulness of God who made them, and deified first inanimate stars and planets, afterwards dead men, the most impious and profligate of the human race; also the works of their own hands, often beasts, monsters, and their own basest passions: the most infamous crimes they authorized by the sanction of pretended religious rites; and from every corner of the earth vice cried to heaven for vengeance. The Jews, who had been favoured by God above all other nations, and declared his peculiar people, were nevertheless abandoned to envy, jealousy, pride, and other vices; so that even amongst them the number of privileged souls which remained faithful to God appeared to be very small. Such was the face of the earth when the Son of God honoured it with his divine presence and conversation. Who would not have imagined when he heard that God was coming to visit the earth that it must have been to destroy it by fire from heaven, as He had done Sodom, and to bury its rebellious inhabitants in hell? But no: whilst the world was reeking with blood and oppressions, and overrun with impiety, He came to save it. How does the ingratitude and baseness of man set off his lover At the sight of our miseries his compassion was stirred up the more tenderly and his bowels yearned toward us. He came to save us, when we deserved nothing at his hands but eternal torments. Also the manner in which He came to visit us shows yet in a more astonishing manner the excess of his goodness and charity for us.To engage our hearts more strongly, He has made Himself like to us taking upon Him our nature. “God was seen upon earth, and has conversed with men[30] The word was made flesh.”[31] a God is born an infinite babe, the Eternal is become a young child, the Omnipotent is made weak, He who is essentially infinite and independent is voluntarily reduced to a state of subjection and humbled beneath his own creatures. It is love, and the love of us sinful men, that hath done all this.

St. Francis of Assisi appeared not able to contain himself through excessive tenderness of love when he spoke of this mystery and named the Little Babe of Bethlehem. St. Bernard says, “God on the throne of His majesty and greatness commands our fear and our homages: but inHis littleness especially our love.” This father invites all created beings to join Him in love and adoration, and to listen in awful silence to the proclamation of the festival in honour of this mystery made in the Roman Martyrology: “Hear ye heavens,” says he, “and lend your ears, O earth. Stand in raptures of astonishment and praise, O you whole creation. but you chiefly, O man. “Jesus Christ, the Son of the living God, was born in Bethlehem of Judah.” O short word of the Eternal Word abridged for us! but filled with heavenly sweetness. The affection of this melting sweetness struggles within, earnestly labouring widely to diffuse its teeming abundance, but finds not words. For such is the grace and energy of this speech that it relishes less if one “iota” in it be changed.” In another sermon, having repeated the same words, he adds, “At these words my soul melts and my spirit boils within me, hastening with burning desire to publish to you this exultation and joy.[32] If this love were kindled in our breast, nothing were sweeter to us than to abide in spirit at the feet of Jesus, pondering the motive, that is, the excess of divine love, which brought Him from heaven, and contemplating the other circumstances of this mystery, HOW ought we to salute and adore those sacred hands which are weakened, wrapped in clouts, or stretched on the manger, for love of us, but which move the heavens and uphold and govern the universe. Also those divine feet which will undergo so many fatigues, and at length be bored on the cross for us. That blood which purples His little veins and dyes His blessed cheeks, but which is the price of our redemption, and will be one day poured out upon the cross. How is this sweet countenance, which is the joy of angels, now concealed! But it will one day be buffeted, bruised, and covered with filthy phlegm. How ought we respectfully to honour it! His holy flesh, more pure than angels, even now begins to suffer from the cold and other hardships: do we not desire to defend it from these injuries? But this cannot be allowed. Nor could anyone oppose the work of our redemption. Sin is the cause of all that He suffers, and shall not we detest and shun that monster?. The loving eyes of the divine Jesus pierce our souls. They are now bathed in tears;though, as St. Bernard says, “Jesus weeps not as other children, or at least not on the same account.” They cry for their wants and weakness, Jesus for compassion and love for us. May these precious tears move the heavenly Father to show us mercy; and maythey soften, wash, and cleanse our souls “These tears excite in me both grief and shame,” says the same father, “when I consider my own insensibility amidst my spiritual miseries,” But nothing in this contemplation will more strongly move us than to penetrate into the interior employment of this divine Saviour’s holy soul, and to consider the ardour of His zeal in the praises of His Father, and in His supplications to Him on our behalf; His compassion for us, and the constant oblation which He made of Himself to obtain for us mercy and grace. Such meditations and pious entertainment, of our souls will have great force in kindling the fire of holy love in our hearts. But all endeavours would be weak so long as we do not labour effectually to remove all obstacles to this holy love in our affections. To cure these disorders is the chief end of the birth of Christ.

Christ’s actions are no less instructions to us than His discourses. His life is the gospel reduced to practice. It is enough to study it to understand well His doctrine: and to become perfect we must imitate His example. By this He instructs us in His very nativity, beginning first to practice, then to preach[33] Hence the manger was His first pulpit, and in it He teaches us the cure of our spiritual maladies. He is come such as the holy prophets had desired and foretold, such as our miseries required, our true Physician and Saviour. He wanted not on earth honours or sceptres; He came not to taste of our vanities: riches and glory He abounded with.8 He came among us to seek our miseries, our poverty, our humiliation, to repair the injuries our pride had offered to the Godhead, and to apply a remedy to our souls. Therefore He chose not a palace or a great city; but a poor mother, a little town, a stable. He who adorns the world and clothes the lilies of the fields beyond the majesty of Solomon in his glory, is wrapped up in rags and laid in a manger. And this He chose to be the great sign of His appearance. “And this shall be a sign to you,” said the angel to the shepherds, “you shall find the child wrapped in swaddling-clothes, and laid in a manger.” Are then rags and a manger the wonderful sign of our God appearing on earth? Are these the works of the great Messiah, of whom the prophets spoke so gloriousthings? This it was that scandalized the Jews in His birth.” Take from us those clouts and that manger,” said Marcion, unjustly prepossessed against the humility of such an appearance. But this is a sign which God Himself hath chosen and set up for His standard; a sign to be the contradiction to our pride, covetousness, and sensuality. And do not we wonder at the stupendous virtue and efficacy of this sign, so shocking to the senses and passions, when we see how it drew to it the little and great, the magians and the shepherds, who knew their Saviour by it, and returned glorifying God? How many have enrolled themselves under the same standard!

Christ set up this mark for us: it is our powerful instruction. “The grace of God the Saviour hath appeared to all men, instructing us,” says the apostle.[34] All men, the rich and the poor, the great and the small, all who desire to have a share in His grace, or in His kingdom. And what breast can be so stony as not to be softened at this example? Our inveterate diseases seemed almost unconquerable. But Christ is come, the omnipotent Physician, to apply a remedy to them. Our disorders flow from three sources. “All that is in the world, is the concupiscence of the flesh, and the concupiscence of eyes, and the pride oflife.”[35] What is concupiscence of the flesh but the inordinate inclination to gratify the senses? Christ, to encourage us to renounce this love of sensual pleasures, and to satisfy His justice by His own sufferings for our offences in this way, begins to suffer as soon as He begins to live. At His very birth He exposes His delicate body to the inclemency of the severest season of the year, to the hard boards of the manger for a cradle, to hunger, and to a privation of the most ordinary conveniences and necessaries of human life. His tender and divine limbs tremble with cold, His eyes stream with tears, and He consecrated the first moments of His life to suffering and pain. He who directs the seasons, governs the universe, and disposes all things, has ordained everything for this very end. Yet we study in all things to flatter our senses, to pamper our bodies in softness and every gratification, and to remove everything that is hard or painful. Is this to imitate the model of penance and mortification that is set us? Christ, by these sufferings, and this privation of all things, shows us that He came to satisfy the justice of His Father, and to repair the injury done to His glory by our sins. But by the same He teaches us the remedies of our disorders, and shows us how they are to be applied to our souls; as He came to instruct us in all we want to know and do in order to save our souls and to reform all our irregular passions and manners. Could He have preached this more powerfully than He has done by the example of His birth? How comes it, notwithstanding, that we are not yet sufficiently persuaded that we cannot be saved at a cheaper rate than by a constant practice of self-denial and penance?

By concupiscence of the eyes is understood the love of riches; the second root of the disorders which reign in the world, and the foundation of its false maxims. This our Saviour teaches us to root out of our hearts by embracing the most austere poverty, and consecrating it in His divine body, to use the expression of St. Bernard. He shows us the danger of riches, and the crime and disorder of a love or eager pursuit of them. Riches are good in the designs of providence; and what is more noble than to have the means of relieving the distresses of others? This motive all pretend in amassing riches; but seek in them only the interest of self-love. The rich and the poor adore them in their desires. This is the disorder. Men may be poor in spirit in the midst of riches. But this is truly an extraordinary grace. Those that are blessed with riches must fear them, lest they find admittance into their hearts. They are, moreover, most frequently either the effect or the cause of iniquity; faulty either in their acquisition or their use. In their acquisition, in which injusticesare so frequent, that Seneca says, “Every rich man is either unjust, or the heir of one who was unjust.” And the organ of the Holy Ghost declares, “He that maketh haste to be rich shall not be innocent.”[36] At least a desire of riches usually attends the acquisition, which is in many ways inordinate; and is always a spiritual fever which destroys the relish of heavenly-goods, and consumes the very vitals of the interior life. It is an idolatry, as St. Paul calls it,[37] and the same master who commanded the idols to be banished out of the world, obliges us to banish the love of riches out of our hearts. The least reserve draws on us the curse of heaven.

This desire in the rich is insatiable. The prophet Isaiah said to them[38] “Woe to you that join house t o house, and lay field to field, even to the end of the place: shall you alone dwell in the midst of the earth? “And the Roman satirist reproached one that seemed to design to make all Rome a single house for himself. The rich are anxious for superfluities, and are tormented by extravagant desires. The poor have here often as much to correct; the desire of possessions is as criminal as an attachment to the possession; it often exposes to a thousand injustices, under subtle disguises, and shuts the heart to divine grace. Let all labour in the world, but not for the world; and let all inordinate desires and anxiety be cut off. Let the poor place themselves nearest to Jesus Christ and, learning from Him the happiness of their condition, study their own sanctification in it. Let the rich look upon their possessions as a burden hard to bear well, and labour to sanctify them by a good use, and by imitating Christ our model in a perfect spirit of disengagement and poverty. Is not the life of a Christian to be penitential? Where is that of the rich such? Vicious inclinations are roused and strengthened by riches; and by incentives and opportunities the passions often reign in the heart of the rich with uncontrollable empire. To other dangers we must add the misfortune that the rich are surrounded by flatterers, and that others artfully conspire to blind and betray them amidst their dangers. How often does it happen that ministers of God deceive them, calling evil good, and good evil; soothing their passions or disguising their obligations. But without entering into this detail, do not the curses of Christ suffice to make all Christians tremble at the dangers of this state? By this means, though Christ declares riches one of the most dangerous obstacles of grace, many saints have changed them into the means of their salvation, joining with their possession a spirit of poverty and disengagement, and making them the instruments of justice and charity. It is therefore neither to riches nor to poverty that Christ promises the kingdom of heaven; but to the disengagement of the heart from the love of riches in whatever state persons live.

Pride being the third and principal source of our disorders, and our deepest wound, humility is displayed in the most wonderful manner in the birth of the Son of God. What is the whole mystery of the Incarnation but the most astonishing humiliation of the Deity? To expiate our pride, and to repair the injury offered to the adorable Trinity by our usurpation, the eternal Son of God divests Himself of His glory and takes upon Him the form of Man. Who would not expect to hear, that when God descended upon earth, the heavens would bend beneath Him, the earth be moved at His sight, and all nature arrayed with magnificence? “He came not,” says St. Chrysostom,”[39] so as to shake the world at the presence of His majesty: nor did He appear in thunder and lightning, as on Mount Sinai; but He descended sweetly, no man knowing it.” “While all things were in deep silence, and the night was in the midst of her course, thy Almighty Word came down from heaven, from thy royal throne.”[40] No one of the great ones of the world is apprized of this great mystery, Those few chosen persons to whom He is pleased to reveal Himself, are called to adore Him in the closest secrecy and silence. If this be the manner in which He comes, what is the appearance which He makes among men? How comes the King of heaven to make His appearance in such a state of abasement, and so destitute of due honour and of every convenience! His birth is, notwithstanding, the masterpiece of infinite wisdom, mercy, and omnipotence. These perfections nowhere shine more admirably than in this mystery; for He came thus to be our Physician, to correct our mistaken judgment of things, to heal our pride, to bring, and to encourage us to use the remedy to our grievous maladies, and to overcome our reluctancy to its bitterness by taking it first Himself. Therefore humility was to be His ensign, and the angel gave His rags and manger to the shepherds for the mark by which He was to be known. “This shall be to you a sign.” What do we behold! A God poor, a God humbled, a God suffering! And can we any longer entertain thoughts of sensuality, ambition, or pride?

If this humility of a God be most astonishing, is not the blindness and pride of man, after such an example, something, if possible, still more inconceivable? Christ is born thus only to atone for our pride, to shower us the beauty of humility, and to plant it in our hearts. Humility is His standard; and the spirit of sincere humility is the mark by which His disciples must be known to be His. Can we profess ourselves His followers, can we look upon the example which He has set us, and yet continue to entertain thoughts of ambition and pride? To learn the interior perfect spirit of humility and all other virtues, we cannot make use of any more powerful means than serious and frequent meditation on His nativity a divine life. Placing ourselves in spirit at the manger, after the tender of our homages by acts of adoration, praise, thanksgiving, and love, we must study in Him the lessons of all virtues, and must present to our newborn king our earnest supplications to obtain of Him all those gifts and graces which He comes to bestow upon us. Let us learn humility from the lowliness in which He appears, and from the humility of His sacred heart. Let us learn meekness by beholding the sweetness and patience with which this God-man receives all injuries from men and from the elements. Let us learn resignation from the indifference with which He bears cold, wants, wrongs, and whatever is sent Him. Let us learn obedience from the most perfect submission of our blessed Saviour to the will of His heavenly Father, from His birth offering Himself without reserve, even to the death of the cross. Let us learn charity from the ardour of His divine love. Let us learn a contempt of the world and its perishable goods from the extreme poverty which Christ made His voluntary choice. Let not the spirit and maxims of the world reign any longer in our hearts, since Christ has shown us such powerful motives, and presented us such sovereign remedies against them. Have we not hitherto been idolaters of ourselves by pride, idolaters of the world by vanity and avarice, and idolaters of our flesh by living enslaved to our senses? These idols we renounce at baptism; but have we not lived in a perfidious violation of these vows? Unless we now sincerely renew these engagements, and banish these idols out of our affections, Jesus can never be spiritually born in our souls, and we can never inherit His spirit, which was the end of His carnal nativity. He is meek, and the king of peace, the lover of purity and of chaste affections, and the avowed enemy to every spirit of pride, hatred, and revenge. We must earnestly invite and entreat Him who vehemently desires to be born in our hearts, that He prepare our souls to receive Him by His graces, that He cleanse them by His mercy, and by inspiring us with sincere compunction, that He banish every inordinate passion, fill us with His holy spirit, and by it reign in all our affections, thoughts, and actions; that as by His nativity He is become all ours, so we may be altogether His. Without this condition we frustrate in ourselves the end of His coming; He is not born for us, unless by His spirit He be born in us. Let us conjure Him by the infinite love with which He came for this very purpose, that He suffer us not wretchedly to defeat this His mercy. For this happiness we ought ardently to repeat that petition which He Himself has put into our mouths, “Thy kingdom come.”

The custom of one priest celebrating several masses on the same day prevailed in many places on great festivals.[41] Prudentius, in His twelfth hymn, “On the Crowns of Martyrs,” mentions that on the feast of SS. Peter and Paul, the 29th of June, the pope said mass first at the Vatican, and afterwards in the Church of St. Paul without the city. The popes on Christmas day formerly said three masses, the first in the Liberian basilica, the second in the Church of St. Anastasia, the third in the Vatican, as Benedict XIV proves from ancient Roman orders or missals. St. Gregory the Great speaks of saying three masses on this day.[42] This custom of the popes was universally imitated and is everywhere retained, though not of precept. Pouget[43] says, that these three masses are celebrated to honour the triple birth of Christ; the first, by which He proceeds from His Father before all ages; the second, from the Blessed Virgin Mary; and the third, by which He is spiritually born in our souls by faith and charity. That Christ was born on the 25th of December, Pope Benedict XIV proves by the authority of St. Chrysostom, St. Gregory of Nyssa, St. Austin, &c., and answers the objections of Scaliger and Samuel Basnage[44] He doubts not but the Greek church originally kept this festival on the same day;[45] and He takes notice, that among the principal feats of the year it holds the next place after Easter and Whitsunday.[46]

ENDNOTES

1 Aggaeus ii. 7. 2 Gen. iii, 15. 3 Gen. xxii. 18. 4 Gen. xxvi. and xxviii. 5 Gen. xlix. 8. 6 Isa. ii. 4 Mich. . iv. 2.

7 Gen. xlix. 8, 10.

8 Aggaeus ii. 3

9 Malachi iii. I.

10 Dan. ii. 3 v. 20; viii. 3 See Rollin, or Mezengui, or Calmet.

11 Dan. ix. 21, &c. See Nouveau Comment. t. ix. p. 500.

12 Numb, xxiv, 17.

13 In Vespas.

14 Tacit, in Annal.

15 See the life of Josephus.

16 Acts v, 36; xxi, 28, Joseph, Ant. lib, xx. c. 2 et 6; lib. viii. c. I. Idem. De Bello Jud. lib. vii. c. 31, &c. Read Dissert. sur les Faux Messies, in the new Fr. Comment. t. xi. p. 21.

17 Luke ii. I. 2, 3.

18 Mich. ii. 2.

19 Orig. Hom. ii. in Luc.

20 St. Justin, Apol. i. vol. 2.

21 Tert. lib. . iv. cont. Marcion.

22 St. Chrys. in Mat. hic.

23 See Calmet’s Diss. sur les Caracteres du Messie, suivant les Juifs, at the head of his comm. on St. Matthew.

24 St. Chrys. Hom, 2, in Mat. t. vii. p. 21, ed. Ben.

25 St. Bonav. Vit. Christi, c. 10.

26 Luke ii. 9, 20.

27 St. Fulgentius, Serm, ii. de Nativ.

28 Arnoldus Bonnevallis, Serm. do Nativ. inter Opera St. Cypriani.

29 2 Heb. i. 6.

30 Baruch iii. 38.

31 John i. 14.

32 St. Bern. Serm. vi. in Vigil. Nativ p. 771.

33 Acts i. I.

34 Tit. ii. II.

35 I John ii. 16.

36 Prov. xxviii. 20.

37 Col. iii. 5.

38 Isa. v. 8.

39 St. Chrysost. in Ps. . 50, p. 536 t.v.

40 Wisd. xviii. 14, 15.

41 See Bona Rer. Liturg. lib. i. c. 18, n. 6; Joseph. Vicecomes, De antiquis missae ritibus, lib. iii. c. 28 &c.

42 St. Greg. Hom. viii. in Evang.

43 Instit. Cathol. t.i.p. 814.

44 De Festis Christi D. c. 17, n. 45, p. 411. See F. Honore, Regles de Crib. lib. iii. Diss. 2, Art. I, and Tillemont, note

4.

45 N. 67, loco cit. p. 422.

46 N. 57, p. 417.

********

The One True Church

THE ONLY CHURCH THAT CHRIST ESTABLISHED IS THE CATHOLIC CHURCH

BY REV. ARNOLD DAMEN, S.J

INDEX

A Lecture given by Fr. Damen in the United States in 1888 “He that believeth and is baptised shall be saved, but he that believeth not shall be condemned”-Mark (16,16)

1. MY DEARLY BELOVED CHRISTIANS :-From these words of our Divine Saviour, it has already been proved to you, that faith is necessary for salvation, and without faith there is no salvation; without faith there is eternal damnation. Read your own Protestant Bible, 16th verse of St. Mark, and you will find it stronger there than in the Catholic Bible.

Now, then, what kind of faith must a man have to be saved? Will any faith do? Why, if any faith will do, the devil himself will be saved, for the Bible says the devils believe and tremble.

It is, therefore, not a matter of indifference what religion a man professes; he must profess the right and true religion, and without that there is no hope of salvation, for it stands to reason, my dear people, that if God reveals a thing or teaches a thing, He wants to be believed. Not to believe is to insult God. Doubting His word, or to believe even with doubt and hesitating, is an insult to God, because it is doubting His Sacred Word. We must, therefore, believe without doubting, without hesitating.

I have said, out of the Catholic Church there is no divine faith-can be no divine faith out of that Church. Some of the Protestant friends will be shocked at this, to hear me say that out of the Catholic Church there is no divine faith, and that without faith there is no salvation, but damnation. I will prove all I have said.

I have said that out of the Catholic Church there can be no divine faith. What is divine faith? When we believe a thing upon the authority of God, and believe it without doubt, without hesitating. Now, all our separated brethren outside of the Catholic Church take the private interpretation of the Bible for their guide; but the private interpretation of the Bible can never give them divine faith.

Let me, for instance, suppose for a moment, here is a Presbyterian; he reads his Bible; from the reading of his Bible he comes to the conclusion that Jesus Christ is God. Now, you know this is the most essential of all Christian doctrines-the foundation of all Christianity. From the reading of his Bible he comes to the conclusion that Jesus Christ is God; and he is a sensible man, an intelligent man, and not a presumptuous man. And he says: “Here is my Unitarian neighbour, who is just as reasonable and intelligent as I am, as honest, as learned, and as prayerful as I am, and. from the reading of the Bible, he comes to the conclusion that Christ is not God at all. “Now,” say” he, “to the best of my opinion and judgment, I am right, and my Unitarian neighbor is wrong; but, after all,” says he,.” I may be mistaken! Perhaps I have not the right meaning of the text, and if I am wrong perhaps he is right, after all; but, to the best of my opinion and judgment, I am right and he is wrong.”

On what does he believe? On what authority? On. his own opinion and judgment And what is that? A human opinion-human testimony, and, therefore, a human faith. He cannot say positively,” I am sure, positively sure, as sure as there is a God in heaven, that this is the meaning of the text.” Therefore, he has no other authority but his own opinion and judgment, and what his preacher tells him. But the preacher is a smart man. There are many smart Unitarian preachers also, but that proves nothing; it is only human authority, and nothing else, and, therefore, only human faith. What is human faith? Believing a thing upon the testimony of man. Divine faith is believing a thing on the testimony of God.

II The Catholic has divine faith, and why? Because the Catholic says: “I believe in such and such a thing.” Why? “Because the Church teaches me so.” And why do you believe the Church? “Because God has commanded me to believe the teaching of the Church; and God has threatened me with damnation if I do not believe the Church, and we are taught by St. Peter, in his epistle that there is no private prophecy or interpretation of the Scriptures, for the unlearned and unstable wrest the very Scriptures, the Bible, to their own damnation.”

That is strong language, my dear people, but that is the language of St. Peter, the head of the Apostles. The unlearned and unstable wrest the Bible to their own damnation! And yet, after all, the Bible is the book of God, the language of inspiration; at least, when we have a true Bible, as we Catholics have, and you Protestants have not.”

But, my dearly beloved Protestant friends, do not be offended at me for saying that. Your own most learned preachers and bishops tell you that, and some have written whole volumes in order to prove that the English translation, which you have, is a very faulty and false translation.

Now, therefore, I say that the true Bible is as the Catholics have it, the Latin Vulgate; and the most learned among the Protestants themselves have agreed that the Latin Vulgate Bible, which the Catholic Church always makes use of, is the best in existence; and, therefore, it is, as you may have perceived, that when I preach I give the text in Latin, because the Latin text of the Vulgate is the best extant.

III. Now, they may say that Catholics acknowledge the Word of God; that it is the language of inspiration; and that, therefore, we are sure that we have the Word of God; but, my dear people, the very best thing may be abused, the very best thing; and, therefore, our Divine Saviour has given us a living teacher, that is to give us the true meaning of the Bible.

And He has provided a teacher with infallibility; and this was absolutely necessary, for without this. . without infallibility we could never be sure of our faith. There must be an infallibility; and we see that in every well-ordered government, in every government-in England, in the United States, and in every country, empire and republic, there is a Constitution and a supreme law.

But you are not at liberty to explain that Constitution and supreme law as you think proper, for then there would be no more law if every man were allowed to explain the law and Constitution as he should think proper.

Therefore, in all governments there is a supreme judge and supreme court, and to the supreme judge is referred all different understandings of the law and the Constitution. By the decisions of the supreme judge all have to abide, and if they did not abide by that decision why, my dear people, there would be no law any more, but anarchy, disorder and confusion.

Again, suppose for a moment that the Blessed Saviour has been less wise than human governments, and that He had not provided for the understanding of His Constitution, and of His Law of” the Church of God. If He had not, my dear people, it would never have stood as it has stood for the last eighteen hundred and fifty-four years. He has then established a Supreme Court, a Supreme Judge in the Church of the Living God.

IV. It is admitted on all sides, by Protestants and Catholics alike acknowledged, that Christ has established a Church; and, strange to say, all our Protestant friends acknowledge, too, that he has established but one Church-but one Church-for, whenever Christ speaks of His Church, it is always in the singular. Bible readers, remember that; my Protestant friends, pay attention. He says: “Hear the Church,”-not hear the churches-” I have built My Church upon a rock “-not My churches.

Whenever He speaks, whether in figures or parables of His Church, He always conveys to the mind a oneness, a union, a unity. He speaks of His Church as a sheepfold, in which there is but one shepherd-that is the head of all, and the sheep are made to follow his voice; “other sheep I have who are not of this fold.” One fold, you see. He speaks of His Church as of a kingdom, in which there is but one king to rule all; speaks of His Church as a family in which there is but one father at the head; speaks of his Church as a tree, and all the branches of that tree are connected with the trunk, and the trunk with the roots; and Christ is the root, and the trunk is Peter and the Popes, and the large branches are the bishops, and the smaller branches the priests, and the fruit upon that tree are the faithful throughout the world; and the branch, says He, that is cut off from that tree shall wither away, produce no fruit, and is only fit to be cast into the fire-that is, damnation.

This is plain speaking, my dear people; but there is no use in covering the truth. I want to speak the truth to you, as the Apostles preached it in their time-no salvation out of the Church of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ.

V. Now, which is that Church? There are now three hundred and fifty different Protestant churches in existence, and almost every year one or two more are added; and besides this number there is the Catholic Church.

Now, which of all these varied churches is the one Church of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ? All claim, to be the Church of Jesus.

But, my dear beloved people, it is evident no church can be the Church of Jesus except the one that was established by Jesus. And when did Jesus establish His Church? When? When He was here upon earth. And how long ago is it that Christ was upon earth? You know our Christian era dates from Him. He was born many centuries ago. That is an historical fact admitted by all. He lived on earth thirty-three years. That was about nineteen centuries before our time. That is the time Christ established His Church on earth. Any Church, then, that has not existed this long, is not the Church of Jesus Christ, but is the institution or invention of some man or other; not of God, not of Christ, but of man.

Now, where is the Church, and which is the Church that has existed thus long? All history informs you that is the Catholic Church; she, and she only among all Christian denominations on the race of the earth, has existed so long. All history, I say, bears testimony to this; not only Catholic history, but Pagan history, Jewish history and Protestant history, indirectly.

The history, then, of all nations, of all people, bear testimony that the Catholic Church is the oldest, the first; is the one established by our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ.

If there be any Protestant preacher who can prove that the Catholic Church has come into existence since that time, let him come to see me and I will give him a thousand dollars. My dear preachers, here is a chance of making money-a thousand dollars for you.

Not only all history, but all the monuments of antiquity bear testimony to this, and all the nations of the earth proclaim it. Call on one of your preachers and ask him which was the first church—the first Christian Church. Was it the Presbyterian, the Episcopalian, the Church of England the Methodist, the Universalist or the Unitarian? And they will answer you it was the Catholic Church.

But, my dear friend, if you admit that the Catholic Church is the first and oldest-the Church established by Christ- why are you not a Catholic? To this they answer that the Catholic Church has become corrupted; has fallen into error, and therefore, it was necessary to establish a new church. A new church, a new religion.

And to this we answer: that if the Catholic Church had been once the true church, then she is true yet, and shall be the true Church of God to the end of time, or Jesus Christ has deceived us.

Hear me, Jesus, hear what I say! I say that the Catholic Church now, in the nineteenth century is not the true Church of God as she was 1854 years ago, then I say, Jesus, Thou hast deceived us, Thou art an imposter ! And if I do not speak truth, Jesus, strike me dead in this pulpit-let me fall dead in this pulpit, for I do not want to be a preacher of a false religion!

VI. I will prove what I have said. If the Catholic Church has been once the true Church of God as is admitted by all, then she is the true Church yet, and shall be the true Church of God until the end of time, for Christ has promised that the gates of hell shall not prevail against the Church. He says that He has built it upon a rock, and that the gates of hell shall never prevail against it.

Now, my dear people, if the Catholic Church has fallen into error, then the gates of hell have prevailed against her; and, if the gates of hell have prevailed against her, then Christ has not kept His promise, then He has deceived us, and if He has deceived us, then He is an imposter! If He be an imposter, then He is not God, and if He be not God, then all Christianity is a cheat and an imposition.

Again, in St. Matthew, 28thchapter and verses XIX. and XX., our Divine Saviour says to His Apostles: “Go ye, therefore, and teach all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost, teaching them to observe whatsoever I have commanded you.” “Lo,” says He, “I, Jesus, the Son of the Living God, I, the Infinite Wisdom, theEternal Truth, am with you all days, even until the end of the world.”

Christ, then, solemnly swears that He shall be with His Church all days to the end of time, to the consummation of the world. But Christ cannot remain with the Church that teaches error, or falsehood, or corruption. If, therefore, the Catholic Church has fallen into error and corruption, as our Protestant friends say she has, then Christ must have abandoned her; if so, He has broken His oath; if He has broken His oath He is a perjurer, and there is no Christianity at all. Again, our Divine Saviour (St. John, 24th chapter) has promised that He would send to His Church the Spirit of Truth, to abide with her forever. If, then, the Holy Ghost, the Spirit of Truth, teaches the Church all truth, and teaches her all truth forever, then there never has been, and never can he, one single error in the Church of God, for where there is all truth there is no error whatsoever.

Christ has solemnly promised that He will send to the Church the Spirit of Truth, who shall teach all truth forever; therefore, there has never been a single error in the Church of God, or Christ has failed in His promises if there has.

Again, Christ commands us to hear and believe the teachings of the Church in all things; at all times and in all places. He does not say hear the Church for a thousand years or for fifteen hundred years, but hear the Church, without any limitation, without any reservation, or any restriction of time whatever. That is, at all times ; in all things until the end of time, and he that does not hear the Church let him be unto thee, says Christ, as a heathen and as a publican. Therefore, Christ says that those who refuse to hear the Church must be looked upon as heathens; and what is a heathen? One that does not worship the true God; and a publican is a public sinner. This is strong language. Could Christ command me to believe the Church if the Church could have led me astray-~~ could lead me into error? If the teaching of the Church be corrupt, could He, the God of truth, command me without any restriction or limitation to hear and believe the teachings of the Church which He has established?

Again: Our Divine Saviour commands me to hear and believe the teaching of the Church in the same manner as if He Himself were to speak to us. “He that heareth you,” says He, in His charge to the Apostles, “heareth Me, and he that despiseth you despiseth Me.” So then, when I believe what the Church teaches I believe what God teaches. If I refuse what the Church teaches I refuse what God teaches.

So that Christ has made the Church the organ by which He speaks to man, and tells us positively that we must believe the teaching of the Church as if He Himself were to speak to us.

Therefore, says St. Paul, in his Epistle to Timothy, “the Church is the ground “-that is, the strong foundation-” and the pillar of the truth.” Take the ground or foundation of this edifice away, and it crumbles down; so with regard to these pillars upon which the roof rests; take them away and the roof will fall in; so St. Paul says, “the Church is the ground and the pillar of truth,” and the moment you take away the authority of the Church of God you induce all kinds of errors and blasphemous doctrines. Do we not see it?

VII. In the sixteenth century Protestantism did away with the authority of the Church and constituted every man his own judge of the Bible and what was the consequence? Religion upon religion, church upon church, sprang into existence, and has never stopped springing up new churches to this day. When I gave my Mission in Flint, Michigan, I invited, as I have done here, my Protestant friends to come and see me. A good and intelligent man came to see me and said:

“I will avail myself of this opportunity to converse with you.”

“What Church do you belong to, my friend?” said I.

“To the Church of the Twelve Apostles,” says he.

“Ha! Ha!” said I, “I belong to that Church too. But, tell me, my friend, where was your Church started?”

“In Terre Haute, Indiana,” says he.

“Who started the Church, and who were the Twelve Apostles, my friend?” said I.

“They were twelve farmers,” says he; ““we all belonged to the same Church-the Presbyterian- but we quarreled with our preacher, separated from him, and started a Church of our own.”

“And that,” says I, “is the Twelve Apostles you belonged to-twelve farmers of Indiana! The Church came into existence about thirty years ago.”

A few years ago, when I was in Terre Haute, I asked to be shown the Church of the Twelve Apostles. I was taken to a window and it was pointed out to me, “but it is not in existence anymore,” said my informant, “it is used as a wagon- maker’s shop now.”

Again, St. Paul, in his Epistles to the Galatians, says: “Though we Apostles, or even an angel from heaven were to come and preach to you a different Gospel from what we have preached, let him be anathema.” That is the language of St. Paul, because, my dearly beloved people, religion must come from God, not from man; No man has a right to establish a religion; no man has a right to dictate to his fellow-man what he shall believe and what he shall do to save his soul. Religion must come from God, and any religion that is not established by God is a false religion, a human institution, and not an institution of God; and therefore did St. Paul say in his Epistles to the Galatians, “Though we Apostles or even an angel from heaven were to come and preach to you a new Gospel, a new religion, let them be anathema”

VIII. YOU SEE, THEN, MY DEARLY BELOVED PEOPLE, FROM THE TEXT OF THE SCRIPTURE I HAVE QUOTED THAT, IF THE CATHOLIC CHURCH HAS BEEN ONCE THE TRUE CHURCH THEN SHE IS YET THE TRUE CHURCH.

You have also seen from what I have said that the Catholic Church is the institution of God, and not of man, and this is a fact-a fact of history, and no fact of history so well supported, so well proved, as that the Catholic Church is the first, the Church established by Jesus Christ

So, in like manner, it is an historical fact that all the Protestant churches are the institutions of man-every one of them. And I will give you their date, and the name of their founders or institutors.

In the year 1520–368 years ago- the first Protestant came into the world. Before that one there was not a Protestant in the world, not one on the face of the whole earth; and that one, as all history tells us, was Martin Luther, who was a Catholic priest, who fell away from the Church through pride, and married a nun. He was excommunicated from the Church, cut off, banished and made a new religion of his own.

Before Martin Luther there was not a Protestant in the world; he was the first to raise the standard of rebellion and revolt against the Church of God. He said to his disciples that they should take the Bible for their guide, and they did so. But they soon quarreled with him, Zuinglius, and a number of others, and everyone of them started a new religion of his own.

After the disciples of Martin Luther came John Calvin, who in Geneva established the Presbyterian religion, and, hence, almost all of those religions go by the name of their founder.

I ask the Protestant, “Why are you a Lutheran my friend?”

“Well,” says he, “because I believe in the doctrine of good Martin Luther.”

Hence, not of Christ, but of man-Martin Luther.

And what kind of a man was he? A man who had broken the solemn oath he had made at the altar of God, at his ordination, ever to lead a pure, single and virginal life. He broke that solemn oath, and married a Sister Catharine, who had also taken the same oath of chastity and virtue. And this is the first founder of Protestantism in the world. The very name by which they are known tells you they came from Martin Luther.

So the Presbyterians are sometimes called Calvinists because they come from, or profess to believe in, John Calvin.

IX. After them came Henry VIII. He was a Catholic, and defended the Catholic religion; he wrote a book against Martin Luther in defense of the Catholic doctrine. That book I have myself seen in the library of the Vatican at Rome a few years ago. Henry VIII. defended the religionand for doing so was titled by the Pope “Defender of the Faith.” It came down with his successors, and Queen Victoria inherits it today. He was married to Catharine of Arragon; but there was at his court a maid of honor to the Queen, named Ann Boleyn, who was a beautiful woman, and captivating in appearance. Henry was determined to have her. But he was a married man. He put in a petition to the Pope to be allowed to marry her-and a foolish petition it was, for the Pope had no power to grant the prayer of it. The Pope and all the bishops in the world cannot go against the will of God. Christ says: “If a man putteth away his wife and marrieth another, he committeth adultery, and he that marrieth her who is put away committeth adultery also.”

As the Pope would not grant the prayer of Henry’s petition he took Ann Boleyn anyhow, and was excommunicated from the Church.

After a while there was another maid of honor, prettier than the first, more beautiful and charming in the eyes of Henry, and he said he must have her, too. He took the third wife, and a fourth, fifth and sixth followed. Now this is the founder of the Anglican Church, the Church of England; and, therefore, it is that it goes by the name of the Church of England.

Our Episcopalian friends are making great efforts nowadays to call themselves Catholic, but they shall never come to it. They own that the name Catholic is a glorious one, and they would like to possess it. The Apostlessaid : “I believe in the Holy Ghost, the Holy Catholic Church”-they never said, in the Anglican Church. The Anglicans deny their religion, for they say they believe in the Holy Ghost, the Holy Catholic Church.

Ask them are they Catholics, and they say yes but not Roman Catholics; we are English Catholics.” What is the meaning of the word Catholic? It comes from the Greek word Catholicus-universal-spread all over the earth, and everywhere the same. Now, first of all, the Anglican is not spread all over the earth; it only exists in a few countries, and chiefly only where the English language is spoken. Secondly, they are not the same all over the earth, for there are now four different Anglican churches: The Low Church, the High Church, the Ritualist Church and the Puseyite Church. Catholicus means more than this, not only spread all over the earth and everywhere the same, but it means, moreover, at all times the same, from Christ up to the present day. Now, then, they have not been in existence from the time of Christ. There never was an Episcopalian or an Anglican Church before Henry VIII: The Catholic Church had already existed fifteen hundred years before the Episcopal came into the world.

After Episcopalianism different other churches sprang up. Next came the Methodist, about one hundred and fifty years ago. It was started by John Wesley, who was at first a member of the Episcopalian Church; subsequently he joined the Moravian Brethren, but not liking them, he made a religion of his own-the Methodist Church.

After John Wesley several others sprang up; and finally came the Campbellites, about sixty years ago. This Church was established by Alexander Campbell, a Scotchman.

X. Well, now, my dear beloved people, you may think that the act of the twelve apostles of Indiana was a ridiculous one, but they had as much right to establish a church as had Henry VIII., or Luther, or John Calvin. They had no right and neither had Henry VIII., or the rest any right whatsoever.

Christ had established His Church and given His solemn oath that His Church should stand to the end of time; promised that He had built it upon rock, and that the gates of hell should never prevail against it-hence, my dear people, all those different denominations of religion are the invention of man; and I ask you can man save the soul of his fellowman by any institution he can make? Must not religion come from God?

And, therefore, my dearly beloved separated brethren, think over it seriously. You have a soul to be saved, and that soul must be saved or damned; either one or the other, it will dwell with God in heaven or with the devil in hell; therefore, seriously meditate upon it.

When I gave my Mission in Brooklyn several Protestants became Catholics. Among them there was a very highly educated and intelligent Virginian. He was a Presbyterian. After he had listened to my lecture he went to see his minister, and he asked him to be kind enough to explain a text of the Bible. The minister gave him the meaning. “Well, now,” said the gentleman, “are you positive and sure that is the meaning of the text, for several other Protestants explain it differently ?”“Why, my dear young man,” says the preacher, “we never can be certain of our faith.” “Well, then,” says the young man, “good-bye to you: If I cannot be sure of my faith in the Protestant Church, I will go where I can,” and he became a Catholic.

We are sure of our faith in the Catholic Church, and if our faith is not true, Christ has deceived us. I would, therefore, beg you, my separated brethren, to procure yourselves Catholic books. You have read a great deal against the Catholic Church, now read something in favor of it. You can never pass an impartial sentence if you do not hear both sides of the question.

What would you think of a judge before whom a policeman would bring a poor offender, and who on the charge of the policeman, without hearing the prisoner, would order him to be hung? “Give me a hearing,” says the poor man, “and. I will prove my innocence. I am not guilty,” says he. The policeman says he is guilty. “Well, hang him anyhow,” says the judge. What would you say of that judge? Criminal judge! unfair man; you are guilty of the blood of the innocent! Would not you say that? Of course you would.

Well now, my dearly beloved Protestant friends, that is what you have been doing all along; you have been hearing one side of the question and condemning us Catholics as a superstitious lot of people, poor ignorant people, idolatrous people, nonsensical people, going and telling their sins to the priest; and what, after all, is the priest more any other man? My dear friends, have you examined the other side of the question?

No, you do not think it worth your while; this is the way the Jews dealt with our Lord Saviour Jesus Christ; and this is the way Pagans and Jews dealt with the Apostles, the ministers of the Church, and with the primitive Christians.

Allow me to tell you, my friends, that you have been treating us precisely in the same way the Jews and Pagans treated Jesus Christ and His Apostles. I have said this evening hard things, but if St. Paul were here tonight, in this pulpit, he would have said harder things still. I have said them however, not through a spirit of unkindness, through a spirit of love, and a spirit of charity, in the hope of opening your eyes that your souls may be saved. It is love for your salvation, my dearly beloved Protestant brethren-for which I wouldgladly give my heart’s blood-my love for your salvation that has made me preach to you as I have done.

XI. “Well,” say my Protestant friends,” if a man thinks he is right would not he be right?” Let us suppose now a man in Ottawa, who wants to go to Chicago, but takes a car for New York; the conductor asks for his ticket; and he at once says “You are in the wrong car; your ticket is for Chicago, but you are going to New York.” “Well, what of that?” says the passenger. “I mean well.” “Your meaning will not go well with you in the end,” says the conductor, “for you will come at New York instead of Chicago.”

You say you mean well, my dear friends; meaning will not take you to heaven; you must do well also. “He that doeth the will of My Father,” says Jesus, “he alone shall be saved.” There are millions in hell who meant well.

You must do well, and be sure you are doing well to be saved. I thank my separated brethren for their kindness in coming to these controversial lectures. I hope I have said nothing to offend them. Of course, it would be nonsense for me not to preach Catholic doctrines.

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The Perpetual Novena

INDEX

IN HONOUR OF OUR SORROWFUL MOTHER

Over 700 years ago, on the feast of her Assumption into Heaven. August 15, 1233, Our Blessed Lady appeared to seven noblemen of Florence, instructing them to establish a Religious Order which would preach her sorrows to the Christian world. On Good Friday, April 15, 1240, the Mother of God appeared again to the VII Holy Founders of the Servite Order. In this second apparition Mary presented her seven sons with a habit of her own designing, indicated to them the rule by which her Order would be governed, gave them the name of “Servants of Mary.” High in the wilds of Monte Senario, the seven saints built the first monastery of their new Order. From this sacred spot a fire of devotion to Our Lady of Sorrows, unprecedented in history, went out over the then civilized world. In the footsteps of the VII Holy Founders (Canonized saints by Pope Leo XIII, 1888) followed the great Servite Propagator, St. Philip Benizi. After 71 years of persecution, suppression, and bitter opposition, the Order was definitely approved when the Dominican Pope, Blessed Benedict XI, issued the Bull, “Dum levanus” (Feb. 11, 1304). The Servite Order became the last of the five Mendicant Orders of the Catholic Church

Among the many devotions to the Queen of Martyrs which grew out of the fervid preaching of the Servite Friars was the Via Matris. An historic study of this great devotion is now in progress. At present we know that it existed in Flanders as early as the 14th Century; that the Roman Ritual has carried it for over half a century; that it was indulgenced as early as 1837 by Pope Gregory XVI.

Sponsored by His Eminence, Cardinal Mundelein in 1937, the Novena in its present form was originated by the Very Rev. James Keane, O.S.M. . Prior of the Servite Community in Chicago. Today, Novena services are being held in practically every parish in the United States and most countries in the world.

It was brought to Australia by the Rev. Father W. Nicol, P.P., of Kyogle, N.S.W., and on December 6th, 1940, the Novena was solemnly inaugurated for the first time in this country, and has been celebrated each Friday night without interruption as a perpetual Novena.

Approval for the carrying out of the Novena in their territories has been given by His Eminence. Cardinal Gilroy, the Most Rev. Dr. Mannix, Most Rev. Dr. Duhig, Most Rev. Dr. McGuire, and Most Rev. Dr. Carroll.

Impetus to the devotion of the Via Matris has been given by the announcement of the appearances of Our Lady of Fatima. On the occasion of the first apparition, our Blessed Mother was asked two questions: “Who are you?” “What do you want?” Her reply was equality concise:

“I am the Lady of the Rosary. I have come to warn the faithful to amend their lives and ask pardon for their sins. They must not continue to offend Our Lord already so deeply offended. They must saythe Rosary.”

It will be seen that our Lady asked for “PRAYER” and PENANCE. To amend our lives and learn the best method of making reparation, we could not do better than follow Mary along her sorrowful way to Calvary. We will not stand alone at the foot of the Cross. Mary will be there, for she carries a load of sorrow that outweighs all others-Mary. the Mother of Sorrows; Queen of Martyrs,

Mary with the dead Body of Christ in her arms, is the greatest and noblest image of reparation that the world knows.

A broken-hearted Mother and her dead Son!

This devotion to Our Sorrowful Mother is new only in its Novena form. The Via Matrix and the other prayers date back to the Middle Ages. The devotion itself-devotion to Mary’s Sorrows -is as old as the Catholic Church. An intimate corollary of the Incarnation, it was publicly announced to mankind by Our Divine Saviour in His Agony on the Cross, when He said to St. John: “Behold Thy Mother” (John XIX, 27). It is the only Marian devotion in the Church, for the propagation of which Our Blessed Lady personally founded an Order.

That Our Divine Lord and His Blessed Mother have blessed this work seems evidenced by the multitude of graces showered upon it. May the day be not far distant when all the world will return to Christ through Mary-Ad Jesum per Mariam!

METHOD OF MAKING THE NOVENA

THIS PUBLIC NOVENA to our Sorrowful Mother can be made only in churches and chapels in which the Via Matris has been canonically erected.

ORDER OF NOVENA SERVICES

(1) Reading of Petitions, (2) The Six Official Novena Prayers, (3) The Blessing of the Sick, (4) A Marian Hymn, (5) Sermon about the Blessed Virgin, (6) The Via Matris, (7) A Marian Hymn, (8) Benediction of the Most Blessed Sacrament (recitation of the Memorare before the Tanturn Ergo). The People will say aloud and together all the prayers of the novena services, and the singing for the entire service will be congregational. The novena may be held on any nine consecutive days throughout the year. but is generally made on the nine days immediately pre-ceding either of the two Feasts of Our Sorrowful Mother.

The PERPETUAL NOVENA to Our Sorrowful Mother is held every Friday throughout the year. Nine consecutive Fridays constitute one novena. The services are the same as those of the Public Novena, and on Good Friday the Desolata may substitute for the regular novena services.

A PRIVATE NOVENA to Our Sorrowful Mother may be made by saying the six official prayers of the novena and making the Via Matris for nine consecutive days or for nine consecutive Fridays. The Via Matris must be made in a church or chapel where the same has been canonically erected.

SIX OFFICIAL PRAYERS OF THE NOVENA

Priest: We shall begin the Novena service by kneeling and saying aloud and together the six official prayers of the Novena in honour of Our Sorrowful Mother.

In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.

PRAYER TO OUR SORROWFUL MOTHER

1. FOR A PARTICULAR GRACE

O most blessed and afflicted Virgin, Queen of Martyrs, who didst stand generously beneath the cross, beholding the agony of thy dying Son; by the sword of sorrow which then pierced thy soul, by the sufferings of thy sorrowful life, by the unutterable joy which now more than repays thee for them; look down with a mother’s pity and tenderness, as I kneel before thee to compassionate thy sorrows and to lay my petition with childlike confidence in thy wounded heart. I beg of thee, O my mother, to plead continually for me with thy Son, since He can refuse thee nothing, and through the merits of His most sacred Passion and Death, together with thy own sufferings at the foot of the cross, so to touch His Sacred Heart, that I may obtain my request. . . . .Priest: Here pause and name the favours which you are asking Our Sorrowful Mother to obtain for you through this Novena. (Pause.) Let your secondary intention be to pray for the intentions of all the people making this Novena in any Church in the world. Thus a great mass prayer for all Novena intentions will arise each Friday to Our Blessed Mother . . .

For to whom shall I fly in my wants and miseries, if not to thee, O Mother of mercy, who, having so deeply drunk the chalice of thy Son, canst most pity us poor exiles, still doomed to sigh in this vale of tears? Offer to Jesus but one drop of His Precious Blood, but one pang of His adorable Heart; remind Him that thou art our life, our sweetness, and our hope, and thou wilt obtain what I ask, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

The “Hail Mary,” and the ejaculation “Virgin Most Sorrowful, pray for us,” seven times.

2. PRAYER FOR A HAPPY DEATH

O Mary, Refuge of Sinners, my sweet Mother, by the sorrow thou didst experience, when thou didst witness the agony and death of thy divine Son on the cross, mercifully intercede for me, I entreat thee, when my soul is about to leave this world; drive away all evil spirits, come to take my soul, and to present it to the eternal Judge. O Queen of Heaven, do not abandon thy child; next to Jesus thou wilt be my comfort in that dread hour. Ask thy Son to grant, in His infinite mercy, that I may die embracing His holy feet, kissing His sacred Wounds, saying with my last breath: “Jesus, Mary and Joseph, I give you my heart and my soul.” Amen.

3. THE HAIL MARY OF OUR SORROWFUL MOTHER (PRAYER OF ST. BONAVENTURE)

Hail! Mary, full of sorrows, the Crucified is with thee; tearful art thou amongst women, and tearful is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, mother of the Crucified, give tears to us, Crucifiers of thy Son, now, and at the hour of our death. Amen.

4. FOR OUR SICK RELATIVES AND FRIENDS

Queen of Martyrs and Mother of Consolation by that sword of sorrow which pierced thy soul, when thou didst see thy Son Jesus Christ our Lord raised upon the cross, pierced with nails and covered with His own Blood; pray for these sick persons,—Priest: Pause here and name the sick persons for whom you are making the Novena. (Pause.) We intend that this Novena be made primarily for the recovery of health of those sick persons whose names have been given in-during the past nine weeks-in any Church where this Novena is in progress. . . .

-that they may by thy powerful intercession be cured of their illness, and thus we may both in time and eternity give thee heartfelt thanks.

5. FOR OUR BELOVED DEAD

O Most Blessed Virgin Mary, my Mother, I turn to thee in supplication, and by that sword which pierced thy sorrowful heart, when thou didst behold thy beloved Son Jesus Christ bow down His head and give up the ghost, I pray and beseech thee to help the holy souls in Purgatory, and particularly those for whom I now pray.—Priest: Here mention the names of your departed relatives and friends for whom you wish to make the Novena. (Pause.) Include in your intention all the departed souls whose names have been given in-during the past nine weeks-in any Church where this Novena is in progress. . . .

Mother of Sorrows, Queen of Martyrs for the love of thy divine Son, whose precious blood was shed for us, help us with thy powerful intercession, who are in danger not only of falling into Purgatory, but of losing our souls forever in hell. O Mary, Motherof Grace; Mother of mercy, pray for us now and at the hour of our death.”

Eternal Father, through the most precious Blood of Jesus and the Sorrows of Mary, O have pity upon the holy souls in Purgatory. Amen.

6. AN ACT OF CONSECRATION TO OUR SORROWFUL MOTHER

Holy Mary, Mother of God and Queen of Martyrs, I do this day choose thee as my model, protectress, and advocate. In thy Immaculate Heart, pierced with so many swords of sorrow, I place my poor soul forever. Receive me as thy especial servant as a partaker in thy sufferings. O Give me strength always to remain close to that Cross on which thy only Son died for me. All that I am and have, I consecrate to thy service. Accept every good work that I may perform and offer it to thy Son for me. Dear Mother, help me to be worthy of the title: “Servant of Mary.” Stand by me in all my actions that they may be directed to the glory of God. As thou wert close to Christ, thy Son, on the cross, be near to me, thy child, in my last agony. Obtain for me, that I may invoke thine and His sweet Name saying with my lips and my heart: “Jesus, Mary and Joseph, assist me in my last agony. Jesus, Mary and Joseph, may 1 die in peace in your holy company.”

Priest: We shall now have the blessing for the sick. This blessing is intended for those here present in the congregation who are suffering from some physical malady.

BLESSING FOR THE SICK THE PRIEST, WEARING A PURPLE STOLE, SAYS

V. Our help is in the name of the Lord. R. Who made heaven and earth. V.O Lord, hear my prayer.

R. And let my cry come unto Thee. V. The Lord be with thee. R. And with thy spirit.

LET US PRAY

Look down, O Lord, we beseech Thee, upon Thy Servants suffering with sickness of body, and refresh the souls which Thou hast created; that, being purified by chastisements, they may forthwith in Thy compassion experience betterment. Through Christ our Lord. Amen.

May Our Lord Jesus Christ be with you that He may defend you: be within you that He may preserve you; precede you that He may guide you; follow you that He may guard you; be over you that He may bless you: Who liveth and reigneth with the Father and Holy Ghost world without end. Amen.

May the Blessing of Almighty God, Father, Son@ and Holy Ghost descend upon you and remain forever.

Amen.

The priest then sprinkles the sick with Holy Water

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VIA MATRIS

(THE WAY OF THE SORROWFUL MOTHER)

Priest: Now we shall all make the Via Matris or the stations of the Cross of Our Sorrowful Mother. We shall begin by rising and singing together: “Come Holy Ghost.”

COME HOLY GHOST COME, HOLY GHOST, CREATOR BLEST,

And in our hearts take up Thy rest;

Come with Thy grace and heavenly aid,

To fill the hearts which Thou has made.

To fill the hearts which Thou hast made.

Priest: We shall now kneel and recite:

AN ACT OF CONTRITION

Virgin most afflicted, how ungrateful have I been in the past to my God, in return for all His benefits. Now, I repent in bitterness of heart, humbly asking pardon for the offence done to His infinite goodness, and resolved by the help of heavenly grace to offend Him no more.

Ah! by all the pains which thou didst suffer in the cruel Passion of thy dear Jesus, I pray thee, with fervent sighs, to obtain for me pardon and mercy for all my grievous sins. Receive this holy exercise wherein I am going to engage in memory of thy Sorrows. Obtain that the same sword which pierced thy soul may pierce mine also, that I may live and die in the love of my Lord, and share eternally in that glory, which He has purchased for me with His most precious blood. Amen.

Priest: We shall now stand.

FIRST SORROW

“And Simeon blessed them, and said to Mary His Mother: Behold this Child is set for the fall, and for the resurrection of many in Israel, and for a sign which shall be contradicted; And thy own soul a sword shall pierce, that out of many hearts thoughts may be revealed. Luke II, 34–35.

FIRST STATION

THE PROPHECY OF SIMEON

People stand, while Priest reads the following meditation:

How great was the shock to Mary’s heart at hearing the sorrowful words, in which holy Simeon told the bitter Passion and death of her sweet Jesus, since in that same moment she realized in her mind all the insults, blows, and torments which the impious men were to offer to the Redeemer of the world. But a still sharper sword pierced her soul. It was the thought of men’s ingratitude to her beloved Son. Now consider that because of thy sins thou art unhappily among the ungrateful, and casting thyself at the feet of the Mother of Dolours, say with sorrow:

People kneel and recite aloud the following prayer:

Virgin beloved, who didst feel so bitter pangs of soul at seeing the abuse which I, wretch that I am, would make of the Blood of thy dear Son, obtain for me, I pray thee, by thy riven heart, that in time to come I may better correspond to God’s mercies, profit by His heavenly grace, receive not in vain His lights and inspirations, and so be among the blessed number of those who are saved y the bitter passion of Jesus. Amen.

Priest: Hail Mary, etc.

People: Holy Mary, etc.

Priest: Virgin Most Sorrowful.

People: Pray for us.

SECOND SORROW

“And after they (the wise men) were departed, behold an angel of the Lord appeared in sleep to Joseph, saying: Arise, and take the Child and His Mother, and fly into Egypt; and be there until I shall tell thee. For it will come to pass that Herod will seek the Child to destroy Him. Who arose, and took the Child and His Mother by night, and retired into Egypt: and he was there until thedeath of Herod.”-Matt. II 13–14. 16

SECOND STATION

THE FLIGHT INTO EGYPT

People stand, while Priest reads the following meditation:

Consider the sharp sorrow which Mary felt, when St. Joseph being warned by an angel, she had to flee by night in order to preserve her beloved Child from the slaughter decreed by Herod. What anguish was hers, in leaving Judea, lest she should be overtaken by the soldiers of the cruel king! How great her privations in that long journey! What sufferings she bore in that land of exile, what sorrow amid that people given to idolatry! But consider how often thou hast renewed that bitter grief of Mary, when thy sins have caused her Son to flee from thy heart. Wherefore repent, and turn to her, humbly, saying:

People kneel and recite aloud the following prayer :

Sweetest Mother, once and once only Herod obliged thee to fly with thy Jesus, to escape the slaughter which he had commanded; but I, how often have I forced my Redeemer, and thee with Him, to fly from my heart, when I have admitted into it accursed sin, hateful to thee and to my loving Lord. With tears and contrition I humbly sue for pardon.

Mercy, dear Lady Mine, mercy! and I promise thee that, for the future, with the help of God, I will ever maintain my Saviour and thee in complete possession of my soul. Amen.

Priest: Hail Mary, etc. People: Holy Mary, etc.

Priest: Virgin Most Sorrowful. People: Pray for us.

THIRD SORROW

“And having fulfilled the days, when they returned, the Child Jesus remained in Jerusalem; and His parents knew it not. And thinking that He was in the company, they came a day’s journey, and sought Him among their kinfolks and acquaintance.And not finding Him, they returned into Jerusalem, seeking Him.” Luke II, 43–45.

THIRD STATION

THE LOSS OF JESUS IN THE TEMPLE

People stand, while Priest reads the following meditation:

How dread was the grief of Mary, when she saw that she had lost her beloved Son! And as if to increase her sorrow, when she sought Him diligently among her kinsfolk and acquaintances, she could hear no tidings of Him. No hindrances stayed her, nor weariness, nor danger; but she forthwith returned to Jerusalem, and for three long days sought Him sorrowing. Great be thy confusion, O my soul, who hast so often lost thy Jesus by thy sins, and hast given no heed to seek Him at once, a sign that thou dost make of very little or of no account the precious treasure of divine love. Weep then for thy blindness, and turning thee to that Lady of sighs, thy Mother, say with compunction:

People kneel and recite aloud the following prayer:

Virgin most afflicted, obtain that I may learn from thee to seek Jesus, when I have lost Him by giving ear to my passions and to the evil suggestions of the devil; obtain that I may find Him again, and when I possess Him once more, that I may ever repeat the words of the Spouse, “I found Him whom my soul loveth; I held Him, and I will not let Him go.” Amen.

Priest: Hail Mary, etc. People: Holy Mary, etc.

Priest: Virgin Most Sorrowful. People: Pray for us.

FOURTH SORROW

“And there followed Him a great multitude of people, and of women, who bewailed and lamented Him.”-Luke XXIII, 27.

FOURTH STATION

MARY MEETS JESUS ON THE WAY TO CALVARY

People stand, while Priest reads the following meditation:

Come, O ye sinners, come and see if ye can endure so sad a sight. This Mother, so tender and loving, meets her beloved Son, meets Him amid an impious rabble, who drag Him to a cruel death, wounded, torn by stripes, crowned with thorns, streaming with blood, bearing His heavy cross. Ah, consider, my soul, the grief of the blessed Virgin thus beholding her Son! Who would not weep at seeing this Mother’s grief? But who has been the cause of such woe? I, it is I, who with my sins have so cruelly wounded the heart of my sorrowing Mother! And yet I am not moved; I am as a stone, when my heart should break because of my ingratitude.

People kneel and recite aloud the following prayer :

O Virgin most holy, I crave pardon for the sorrows I have caused thee. I know and confess that I deserve it not, for it is I through whom thy Jesus was so treated; yet do thou call to mind that thou art the Mother of mercy. Show mercy, then, to me, and I promise to be more faithful to my Redeemer in the time to come, and thus to console thee for the many sorrows I have offered to thine afflicted heart.

Amen.

Priest: Hail Mary, etc.

People: Holy Mary, etc.

Priest: Virgin Most Sorrowful.

People: Pray for us.

FIFTH SORROW

“They crucified Him. Now there stood by the cross of Jesus, His Mother. When Jesus therefore had seen His Mother and the disciple standing whom He loved, He saith to His Mother: Woman: behold thy son. After that He saith to the disciple: Behold thy Mother.” John X I X, 18–25–26–27.

FIFTH STATION

JESUS DIES ON THE CROSS

People stand, while Priest reads the following meditation:

Look, devout soul, look to Calvary, whereon are raised two altars of sacrifice, one on the Body of Jesus, the other on the heart of Mary. Sad is the sight of that dear Mother drowned in a sea of woe, seeing her beloved Son, part of her very self, cruelly nailed to the shameful tree of the cross. Ah me! how every blow of the hammer, how every stripe which fell on the Saviour’s form, fell also on the disconsolate spirit of the Virgin. As she stood at the foot of the cross, pierced by the sword of sorrow, she turned her eyes on Him, until she knew that He lived no longer and had resigned His spirit to His Eternal Father. Then her own soul was like to have left the body and joined itself to that of Jesus.

People kneel and recite aloud the following prayer:

O Mother of Sorrows, who wouldst not leave Calvary until thou hadst drunk the last drop of the chalice of thy woe, how great is my confusion of face, that I so often refuse to take up my cross, and in all ways endeavour to avoid those slight sufferings which the Lord, for my good, is pleased to send upon me. Obtain for me, I pray thee, that I may see clearly the value of suffering, and may be enabled, if not to cry with St. Francis Xavier, “More to suffer, my God! ah, more!” at least to bear meekly all my crosses and trials. Amen.

Priest: Hail Mary, etc. People: Holy Mary, etc.

Priest: Virgin Most Sorrowful. People: Pray for us.

SIXTH SORROW

“Joseph of Arimathea, a noble counsellor, came and went in boldly to Pilate, and begged the body of Jesus. And Joseph buying fine linen, and taking Him down, wrapped Him up in the fine linen.”-Mark XV., 43–46.

SIXTH STATION

MARY RECEIVES THE DEAD BODY OF JESUS IN HER ARMS PEOPLE STAND, WHILE PRIEST READS THE FOLLOWING MEDITATION

Consider the most bitter sorrow which rent the soul of Mary, when she saw the dead Body of her dear Jesus on her knees, covered with blood, all torn with deep wounds. O mournful Mother, a bundle of myrrh, indeed, is thy Beloved to thee. Who would not pity thee? Whose heart would not be softened, seeing affliction which would move a stone? Behold John not to be comforted, Magdalen and the other Mary in deep affliction, and Nicodemus, who can scarcely bear his sorrow.

People kneel and recite aloud the following prayer:

And I-Shall I alone be tearless amid such grief? .Ingrate and hard am I! Grant, dear Mother, that my heart may be pierced with the same sword that pierced thy sorrowful soul, that it may be softened, and may indeed lament those my heavy sins which were the cause of thy cruel suffering. Amen.

Priest: Hail Mary, etc.

People: Holy Mary, etc.

Priest: Virgin Most Sorrowful.

People: Pray for us.

SEVENTH SORROW

Now there was in the place where He was crucified, a garden; and in the garden a new sepulchre, wherein no man yet had been laid. There, therefore, because of the parasceve of the Jews, they laid Jesus, because the sepulchre was nigh at hand.”-John XIX, 41–42.

SEVENTH STATION

JESUS IS PLACED IN THE TOMB

People stand, while Priest reads the following meditation:

Consider the sighs which burst from Mary’s sad heart when she saw her beloved Jesus laid within the tomb. What grief was hers when she saw the stone lifted to cover that sacred tomb! She gazed a last time on the lifeless body of her Son, and could scarce detach her eyes from those gaping wounds. And when the great stone was rolled to the door of the sepulchre, oh, then indeed her heart seemed torn from her body!

People kneel and recite aloud the following prayer :

O Mother most desolate, who didst indeed in body depart from the sepulchre, but didst leave thy heart where was thine only treasure, obtain that all our desires, all our love may rest there with thee. Surely our hearts must melt with love to our Saviour, who has shed His Blood for our salvation. Surely we must love thee, who hast suffered so much for us. Oh, by all thy sorrows, grant that the memory of them may be ever imprinted on our mind, that our hearts may burn with love to God, and to thee, sweet Mother, who didst pour out all thy soul in sorrow for the Passion of Jesus: to Him be honour, glory, and thanksgiving for ever and ever. Amen.

Priest: Hail Mary, etc.

People: Holy Mary, etc. .

Priest: Virgin Most Sorrowful.

People: Pray for us.

TO MARY IN HER DESOLATION

I pity thee, most Holy Mother, with all the tenderness of which my heart is capable in thine extreme desolation. Deep indeed was thy grief, when thou didst witness the Passion and death of thy beloved Son. But then His presence could in a measure sustain thee and comfort thee in the stormy waves of sorrow. Now art thou wholly desolate. Oh, grief unequalled! O, lonely bitterness! Oh, by that grievous loss, have pity on me, who so often have, by my sins, lost my beloved Lord. Obtain, O tender Mother, that I may never again cause my Jesus to re-move from me through my wickedness and want of fervour, but may serve Him faithfully in this earthly life, to see and enjoy Him hereafter in heaven.

Say the “Hail Mary” three times in memory of the Desolation of the Most Holy Virgin.

INDULGENCES

Pope Pius XII, by Decree of the Sacred Apostolic Penitentiary dated April 24th. 1951, granted the following Indulgences to the Via Matris: Plenary Indulgences (under the usual conditions of Confession, Communion and prayers for the Holy Father) :

1. Once a day.

2. Further Plenary Indulgence for the Pious Exercise of the Seven Fridays preceding the Feast of our Lady of Sorrows in September.

3. Further Plenary Indulgence for the Pious Exercise of the Seven Fridays preceding the Feast of Our Lady of Sorrows in Passion Week.

4. Further Plenary Indulgence for making the Pious Exercise in the form of a Novena. Partial Indulgences: of 10 years for each Station of the Via Matris when, for any reasonable motive, the Pious Exercise of the Via Matris was interrupted and not completed.

Imprimi Potest:

@ JOHN CARROLL Bishop of Lismore April 30th, 1941.

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The Plain Truth

A POCKET RESUME OF CATHOLIC BELIEF

BY ISIDORE O’BRIEN, O.F.M

INDEX

INTRODUCTION.

The Earth is the globe on which we live.

It is one of the nine heavenly bodies, or planets, which rotate around the sun to make up what is called the Solar System. Some of the planets in turn have moons revolving around them, from the earth, which has one, to

Jupiter, which has ten. Now these moons and planets circling in intersecting orbits around the sun, plus the sun itself, form but a part of the vast, rotating, starry system called “the clock of the sky.” The ancients named it the

Cosmos . For “cosmos” means a system perfect in order and arrangement. And they named it well; for so constant and punctual are the movements of the heavenly bodies that astronomers can count the seasons, the months, the hours and the minutes from their changing positions. And from this delicate timing of such a vast and intricate mechanism It is lawful for us to draw a conclusion, namely, that such mathematical precision was designed and set in motion by an

Intelligent Being . For if it demands intelligence of a high order to make a watch that will keep almost perfect time, it requires a supremely intelligent being to make “the clock of the sky” which keeps absolutely perfect time. A watch does not just happen. Neither did the universe.

Each proclaims a

MAKER, AND A MAKER CAPABLE OF

REVEALING HIMSELF TO BE AN INTELLIGENT BEING

Now there are two ways in which a watchmaker could reveal his intelligence. The first way would be for him to make a watch and hand it to us to inspect. The second would be an extension of the first: that is, he could let us examine the watch and then explain to us how he made it And the supremely intelligent Being Who made “the clock of the sky” did both. He created the universe and set it before us that from a study of it we might come to a sure though incomplete knowledge of His existence. And intelligent pagans did just that. They came to a knowledge of God by reasoning from effect to cause.

Theirs was a

NATURAL RELIGION. BUT THE CREATOR OF THE UNIVERSE, OR GOD, DID NOT LEAVE MEN TO LEARN OF HIM THROUGH REASON ALONE

He revealed Himself to mankind. And this is called

REVEALED RELIGION. AS NATURAL RELIGION RESTS ON REASON, REVEALED RELIGION RESTS ON FAITH. YET FAITH DOES NOT contradict reason, observation and experience, but adds to them.

FAITH IS DEFINED AS A SUPERNATURAL VIRTUE BY WHICH WE FIRMLY BELIEVE ALL THAT GOD HAS REVEALED AND ALL HIS CHURCH proposes for our belief.

This booklet deals with the facts of revealed religion.

OUR RULE OF FAITH

THE BIBLE AND TRADITION.

THE BIBLE

The Book which contains God’s revela tions is called

The Bible. It is God’s written word, and is a collection of 72 single books, Gospels and Apostolic letters, which are divided into two parts, called the Old and the New Testament The former contains the laws and prophecies which God gave to the Jews, and the history and sacred utterances of those people and their saints and leaders up to the time of Christ. The latter tells us of Christ’s birth, life, preaching, miracles, death and resurrection, the founding and spread of the Church, and the experiences and teaching of the Apostles.

The Bible tells us that God created the universe out of nothing end made man according to His own image and likeness. It tells us the names of our

First Parents, namely, Adam and Eve, and also that they lived for a time in innocence, but later fell into guilt by

The Sin of Disobedience. This fall affected not only themselves but all their descendants by causing every ordinary member of the human race, with one exception, namely, the Blessed Virgin Mary, to be born in a state of

Original Sin, which, unless removed by Baptism, keeps the soul out of heaven. The fall of our first parents had other bad consequences besides making us heirs to sin. It introduced into the world death and sorrow and pain and hatred and greed and all the evils that we have to bear.

Yet, even when Adam and Eve fell into sin and thereby doomed themselves and their posterity to exclusion from heaven. God did not abandon them, but promised to send mankind a

Redeemer. And although many thousands of years were to elapse before this Redeemer would come to earth, men and women could save themselves in the meantime by a firm belief in His coming, by leading good lives and by truly repenting for their sins and doing penance for them.

But sin’s corroding effect brought the human race to such a state of iniquity that God destroyed it by

The Deluge. This wiped out all the human race except Noe and his wife and his three sons and their wives. From these few families the present human race sprung. From the family of one of them, Sam, God revealed that the Redeemer would be born.

To effect this He called a Chaldean named

Abram from Ur, a city on the Euphrates River, near the Persian Gulf, to take possession of Palestine and become the father of the Jewish race and the ancestor of the Redeemer. And through the utterances of the prophets and the Annunciation of the Angel Gabriel, God foretold that the Redeemer was to be

His Own Divine Son, Who would be born of the Virgin Mary by the power and operation of the Holy Ghost. This is the

Mystery of the Incarnation. The Incarnation of Christ is not only a fathomless mystery itself, but it involves others equalIy incomprehensible The first of these is the

Mystery of the Blessed Trinity, or the existence of Three Persons in one God, the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost, really distinct and equal in all things. This truth is the foundation of the Christian faith. The Father is the First Person, the Son is the Second, and the Holy Ghost is the Third. They are Three distinct Persons in one Divine Nature. All existed as God from eternity, that is, without a beginning, but at the appointed time the Son took on human flesh and became Man without ceasing to be God. He assumed human nature while still retaining His Divine Nature. And tins mystery took place by the power of the Holy Ghost. So that in Christ’s Incarnation we have the Blessed Trinity more fully revealed than it had been heretofore For Christ was the Son of God before He was the Son of Mary. And He remained the Son of God after He became her Son. And this introduces the second mystery of the Incarnation group, namely:

Mary’s Divine Maternity. For as an ordinary woman becomes at the birth of her child not just the mother of a material body, but the mother of a human person, so at Christ’s birth Mary became the Mother of a Divine Person, Who possessed two natures, the human and divine. And since she became the Mother of the whole Christ, she is truly the Mother of God. The third mystery involved is the

Virgin Birth of Christ. This means that Christ was conceived directly in the womb of Mary by the power of the Holy Ghost without the intervention of man and without destroying her virginity. It means that He developed prenatally asother children, and was born in a mysterious manner which again left Mary’s virginity intact. The fourth mystery related to the Incarnation in the

Immaculate Conception of Mary(defined as a dogma in 1854), which means that Mary’s soul was never for an instant stained by original sin. For when all mankind fell through Adam, God still preserved unspotted that avenue through which He-would send His Son to redeem the human race, and that avenue was Mary, the Mother of Christ.

The Incarnation, as we have said, is a fathomless mystery, yet we can see several important reasons why Christ became Man. He wished to be a visible Person, and to show men by His humble birth and life that although God and King of all things He was meek and humble of heart. And He wished men to know that He had become one of them out of sheer love for them, and that it would be as one of them, though God besides, that He would minister to their wants, forgive their sins, suffer for them in His Agony and Passion and redeem them by His death on the cross. . As Man He would practise all the virtues which He would enjoin on them to practise, and first endure Himself greater hunger of heart and body, deeper loneliness of mind and soul, sharper pangs of ingratitude and unrequited love, than He would ever ask them to endure. And, finally, since man had offended God, He as Man and God would redeem the one and repay the other.

Since Christ came to a fallen race, the

Purpose of His Incarnation was to restore to God the honour of which sin had robbed Him, and to redeem mankind. Now to redeem mankind and to make redemption more abundantly fruitful in all lands and in all times, two acts were essential: first, the, act of redemption itself; second, the act of instituting a universal and indestructible organisation fitted in every way to carry out His teaching and authority, and therefore to bring salvation to every individual that would ever be born on earth. Christ performed these two acts. He

Redeemed Mankind by dying on the cross. That is, His death on the cross restored to God in full the honour of which sin had robbed Him;and it paid the full price of man’s redemption. And He

Founded a Church. And the Church He founded is the True Church, that is, the congregation of all the faithful, who, being baptized, profess the same doctrine, partake of the same sacraments, and are governed by their lawful pastors under one visible head on earth, the Pope. Nor can there be more than one True Church, for as there is but one Lord, one Faith, one Baptism, one God and Father of all, there is but one True Church.

Christ did not begin to work wonders at His birth nor even at that age when children reach the use of reason. He remained quietly with Mary, His Mother, and Joseph, His Foster-Father, in their home in Nazareth until after the latter’s death, and practised the carpenter’s trade until about His thirtieth year. He then began His

Public Life. This lasted about three and one-half years. During this time He laid the foundation of His Church by proclaiming her Constitution in

The Sermon on the Mount, by admitting about seventy men to be His disciples, from whom He later called Twelve to be His Apostles, by preaching His doctrine of penance, purity, love, forgiveness and holiness, and by proclaiming His Divinity and substantiating that claim beyond all question by deliberately performing miracles in proof of it. The virtue which He demanded above all in His Apostles was faith-faith in His Divinity, and therefore in His power to commission them to go forth in His Name and preach His doctrine to all nations, to forgive sins, as He did, and to change bread and wine into His Body and Blood, as He also did. From the Twelve He selected one as

Head of the Church.This was Peter, and to him Christ said: “Thou art Peter, and upon this rock I will build My Church. . . . .And I will give to thee the keys of the kingdom of heaven. . . . Feed My lambs, feed My sheep.” That is, He thereby gave to Peter and his successors

Complete Authority to Rule over the whole Church, namely, over the faithful and over all future priests and Bishops, and over the other Apostles. He commissioned the Apostles and their successors with

Full Authority to Teachthe whole Church, when He said to them: “Going, therefore, teach ye all nations; baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost. And behold I am with you all days, even to the consummation of the world.” He gave them at the same time the right to receive new members into the Church by her only way of entrance, namely, Baptism.

He gave to all the Apostles and their successors

The Power to Forgive Sins when He breathed on them and said to them: “Receive ye the Holy Ghost Whose sins you shell forgive they are forgiven them; and whose sins you shall retain they are retained.”

And Christ bequeathed His greatest gift to mankind, after redemption itself, and conferred upon His Apostles and their successors their greatest power and dignity, when at

The Last Supper He instituted the Sacrament of the Eucharist, and said to His Apostles: “Do this for a commemoration of Me.” That was the

First Mass and First Ordination to the priesthood of Christ It was the first HOLY COMMUNION and the first

Unbloody Sacrifice. It took place on Holy Thursday night, and on the next day occurred the

Bloody Sacrifice of Calvary. In bequeathing to His Apostles and their successors the power to forgive sins and to consecrate bread and wine, He left to them the means to sanctify the whole Church.

Christ, therefore, empowered His Church rule, to teach and to sanctify mankind. The Sacrifice of Calvary took place, and could take place, only once; but the Mass is the same Sacrifice as that of Calvary, for the same Christ Who that once offered Himself a bleeding Victim to His heavenly Father on the cross continues to offer Himself in an unbloody manner by the hands of His priests. The Mass, therefore, is the continuation of the Sacrifice of the Body and Blood of Christ under the appearances of bread and wine. The priest offers each Mass for the four following ends: to give God honour and glory; to thank Him for

His benefits; to obtain pardon for our sins and beseech Him for the graces and blessings needed for salvation; and to continue and represent the Sacrifice of Calvary.

Although Christ substantiated His repeated claims to Divinity and divine powers by countless incontrovertible miracles, and confirmed His daily teaching by individual works which no one but a Divine Being could perform, He set the stamp of Divinity on His whole life and established the divine value of His Passion and Death by the supreme miracle of His

Resurrection. This is the basis for complete faith in His doctrine, in His promises, in His redemption of mankind and in the Church which He founded to bring salvation to men. It was recorded by the angels at His open tomb, by the soldiers set to guard His sealed tomb, by the holy women, Apostles and disciples and by St. Paul. It was a public miracle, for Christ remained on earth for forty days and appeared at various times and in different places and was seen on one occasion at least by “more then five hundred brethren.” As He had foretold His Resurrection, so Christ foretold His

Ascension. This took place forty days after His Resurrection and in the presence of many. But Christ while still on earth had promised His Apostles that when. His Ascension should take place and He should have ascended into heaven, He would ask the Father to send them

“Another Parac1ete” the Holy Ghost, to be their Advocate and Comforter, to abide with them forever (that is, with the Church), to teach them all things and bring back to their minds any of His doctrine which they might have forgotten, and to explain to them any part of it which at the time of its utterance they had not fully understood. And when He was about to ascend into heaven from Mount Olivet He commanded the Apostles to return to Jerusalem and wait the descent of the Holy Ghost. This descent took place on

Pentecost, which is called the birthday of the Church. Up to that time the Church had existed in embryonic form, so to speak, receiving her life blood directly from the Heart of Christ, Her Founder; but with the coming of the Holy Spirit (which means “Holy Breathing”), she began to breathe with His life and warmth, living the while on the same Body and Blood of Christ which He through the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass had left to her as her “Super-substantial Food.”

TRADITION

Although the Church reveres the Bible as the written word of God, yet since it is either silent or not clear on some matters essential to salvation, such as Infant Baptism and the exact number of sacraments, she does not depend on it as the sole rule of faith, but uses a second source of Divine Revelation called

Tradition. This consists of the truths of the Catholic Faith revealed by Jesus Christ to His Apostles and handed down to us through the teaching of the Church and the writings of her Holy Fathers and Doctors. Those two sources form the Deposit of Faith. And the Church is the living magisterium, or vocal teacher, who through the Pope interprets the true meaning of Scripture and Tradition and speaks with full, infallible authority on matters of faith and morals. The Holy Ghost, the Spirit of Truth, preserves her from error.

As the divinely commissioned and divinely directed teacher of truth, therefore, the Church proposes a certain set of doctrines for her children to believe and a certain code of morals for them to observe, and she insists that they obey her voice or accept the punishment which she has a right to inflict. In doing so she is merely following the practice of all lawful authority. The State does the same. So do societies and clubs. Members must obey rules or pay the penalties for breaking them: for if a person has a right to command, he has a right to enforce his command.

CHRISTIAN TRUTHS THE TEACHING CHURCH

The Church teaches:

1. That There is One God, a Pure Spirit, Maker of heaven and earth, without beginning or end, omnipresent, knowing and seeing all, omnipotent, infinite in perfection.

2. That There Are Three Persons In God, equal and of the same substance: the Father; the Son, born of the Father; and the Holy Ghost, proceeding eternally from the Father and the Son; all Three eternal in wisdom and power, and all Three the same Lord and the same God.

3. That God Created the Angels to be with Him forever; that one part of them fell and became devils; that God created Adam and Eve, our first parents, and placed them in Paradise. whence they were justly banished for eating the forbidden fruit; that, therefore, we are born in sin and would have been lost had not God sent us a Saviour.

4. That the Saviour is Jesus Christ, the Son of God; perfect God from all eternity, and equal to the Father in all things; perfect Man, with a body and soul like ours.

5. That Christ Was Conceived in the Womb of the Virgin Mary, by the power of the Holy Ghost, without any man for His father; that she remained a pure virgin; and that during His life He founded the Christian religion and offered Himself a sacrifice for the sins of the world by dying on the cross to gain mercy, grace and salvation for us.

6. That Christ Rose from the Dead on the Third Day, never more to die: that He manifested Himself to His disciples for forty days; ascended into heaven, where He continually intercedes for us; and whence He sent down the Holy Ghost upon His disciples to guide them and their successors in truth.

7. That Christ Is the Head of the Catholic Church. His spirit acting as its director; that He founded the Church on a rook; that it is always victorious against the powers of death and hell; that it is always One, for lts members profess one faith and one communion, under one pastor, the successor of St Peter, to whom Christ committed His whole flock; that it is always Holy, because it teaches a holy life; that it is Catholic because it has subsisted in all ages and taught all nations the truth; that it is Apostolic because it derives doctrines, communion, orders, missions, and successors from the Apostles.

8. That the Scriptures Were Deposited by the Apostles with the Church, who is the guardian and protector, interpreter and judge of nil controversies concerning them; that, as so interpreted, these Scriptures, together with the traditions of the Apostles, must be received by all as the rule of faith and practice.

9. That Christ Instituted Seven Sacraments, and that He also instituted the Sacrifice of His Body and Blood as a remembrance of His Passion and Death in the Mass, where every day He is immolated upon the altar, being Himself both Priest and Victim; that in the Mass we are united with Him, adore Him, give Him thanks and obtain His grace and pardon.

10. That in the Church There is a Communion of Saints, by means of which we communicate with the holy ones in heaven, and give thanks to God for His gifts to them and beg a share in their prayers; that we communicate with the faithful in purgatory by offering prayers, alms and sacrifice to God for them.

11. That without Divine Grace we cannot make even one step toward heaven; that all our merits are the gifts of God; that Christ died for all men; that God is not the author of sin; and that His grace does not take away our free will.

12. That Christ Will Come from Heaven cm the Last Day to Judge Us All; that the dead, good and bad, shall rise from their graves at the sound of the last trumpet, to be judged according to their works; that the good shall go to heaven, body and soul, to be happy for all eternity; that the wicked shall be condemned body and soul, to the torments of hell, which are most grievous and are everlasting.

Besides this set of doctrines, which the Church taught explicitly from the beginning, there are others which she defined as the centuries went on and occasion demanded. These are not new, strange or contradictory to any truth which she had always taught, but are only a fuller and more precise definition of what she already held. They simply resided in the Deposit of Faith until the occasion arose for the Church to promulgate them solemnly. The occasion of definition was often, but nct always, to clear up controversies and condemn a heresy which taught the error opposed to the particular doctrine’s truth. These definitions are the formal declaration of the Pope speaking “ex cathedra,” or as the supreme authority of the visible Church, and promulgating certain existing truths which were clarified by the discussions and conclusions of Genera], or Ecumenical, Councils, that is, Councils in which the bishops of the world were assembled and over which the Pope or his legate presided. For to make the findings of such a Council dogmas of faith, the Pope must summon its members, preside over its discussions in person or by legate, approve its teaching and promulgate that teaching as an article of faith. There have been twenty

ECUMENICAL COUNCILS IN THE HISTORY OF THE CHURCH (SOMETIMES TWO OR MORE WE HELD IN THE SAME PLACE). THEY ARE

1. The First Council of Nicea, A.D. . 324, which condemned the heresy of Artus, who denied the Divinity of Christ.

2. The First Council of Constantinople A.D. . 381, which condemned the heresy of Macedonius, who denied the Dlvinity of the Holy Ghost.

3. The Council of Ephesus, AL. 431. which condemned the heresy of Nestorius, who taught that there were two separate Persons in Christ, human and divine, and that Mary was the Mother of His human Person only, not of His divine. The Church teaches that there is only one Person in Christ, the divine, and that Mary, therefore, is the Mother of God.

4. The Council of Chalcedon, A.D. 451, which condemned the heresy of Eutyches, who taught that Christ had only one nature. The Church teaches that Christ had two natures, His human and His divine, and that it is the union of these two natures in Christ under one Divine Person, which gave His human actions divine value.

5. The Second Council of Constantinople A.D. 553. This Council condemned the books of Theodorus, which favoured the heresy of Nestorius.

6. The Third Council of Constantinople, A.D. 680, which condemned the heresy of the Monothelites, whose author was Sergius, Patriarch of Constantinople. This heresy taught that Christ had two natures but only one will, namely, the divine. The Church teaches that Christ had two wills, His human and divine.

7. The Second Council of Nice, A.D. . 787, which condemned the heresy of the Iconoclasts, or Image-beakers, who taught that the veneration of sacred things is idolatry.

8. The Fourth Council of Constantinople. A.D. 809, which condemned and deposed Photius, the politically installed Patriarch of Constantinople, who was the author of the Greek Schism, or the separation between the Catholic Church and the Orthodox Eastern Church. This separation still exists and the Orthodox Eastern Church, now heretical as well as schismatic, denies the infallibility of the Pope,. holds that the Catholic Church is in error for prescribing celibacy for her clergy, and that the Holy Ghost proceeds from the Father alone, not from the Father and the Son, as the Catholic Church teaches.

9. The First Council of the Lateran (Rome), A.D. 1123, which defined the rights of the Church and those of the emperors or civil powers in the election of bishops and abbots.

10. The Second Council of the Lateran, A.D. 1139, which condemned the heresies of Peter of Bruys and Arnold of Brescia who rejected infant Baptism, condemned altars and churches, prohibited the veneration of the cross, rejected the Mass and Holy Eucharist and denied the efficacy of prayers for the dead.

11. The Third Council of the Lateran, Al). 1178 which condemned the heresies of the Waldenses and Albigenses. Peter Waldo, a layman who set himself up as a street preacher, denied that the Church had the right to own property, rejected all the Sacraments except Baptism and The Eucharist, taught that a layman could absolve from sins, rejected indulgences, fasts and ecclesiastical ceremonies, and the distinction between mortal and venial sins, held veneration of sacred images to be idolatry and condemned all oaths. The A1bigenses taught the existence of two Gods, denied the inspiration of the Old Testament, banned infant Baptism, taught that marriage was sinful, held that anyone can forgive sins, denied the Trinity, the Incarnation, the Redemption and the Sacraments, declared all penances useless and held that an unworthy priest could not consecrate the Eucharist.

12. The Fourth Council of the Lateran, A.D. . 1215, which enacted general legislation.

13. The First Council of Lyons, A.D. . 1245, which decreed a general crusade, or an attempt by Christian armies to recover the Holy Places from the Mohammedan Turks.

14. The Second Council of Lyons, A.D. . 1274, which defined the doctrine that the Holy Ghost proceeds from the Father and the Son.

15. The Council of Vienne, A.D. . 1312, which abolished the Order of Knights Templars.

16. The Council of Constance, A.D. 1414. which ended the Western Schism, or the confusion which produced three Popes at one time. The Council reformed ecclesiastical government to guard against another such occurrence, and elected Pope Martin V. It condemned the propositions of John Wyclif, who identified God with the universe, taught predestination, denied the Real Presence of Christ In the Eucharist, condemned the veneration of sacred objects and rejected the Episcopacy. This Council also condemned the heresy of John Hus, who denied that St. Peter was head of the Church or that the clergy received any authority from Christ, and held that mortal sin deprives all rulers of jurisdiction.

17. The Council of Florence, A.D. 1439—1445, which effected a temporary reconciliation with the Greeks.

18. The Fifth Council of the Lateran, A.D. . 1512, which re-established Church discipline.

19. The Council of Trent, A.D. . 1545–88, which condemned the heresies of Luther, Calvin and others.

20. The Vatican Council, A.D. 1869–70, which decreed the infallibility of The Pope.

Thus through nineteen centuries has the Church, assisted by the Holy Ghost, carefully sifted the opinions of man, rejecting what was wrong, promulgating what was true and right. Thus did she raise the edifice of her doctrine, building it on the great dogmas which the Scriptures and Tradition revealed to her, and ornamenting it with the devotion which the Holy Ghost inspired. Thus did she exhibit the

Four Marks by which men know that she is the Church of Christ, namely, the marks of being One, Holy, Catholic and Apostolic. For she is One in her government and teaching. Holy in her Founder and in her doctrine and saints, Catholic in her appeal to all hearts in all nations and times, and Apostolic in her tradition and authority.

THE MORAL LAW

Although Christ abrogated much of the Old Law He retained the

TEN COMMANDMENTS WHICH GOD HAD GIVENTO MOSES AS THE BASIS OF MAN’S WHOLE CONDUCT. THEY ARE FIRST. I AM THE LORD THY GOD; THOU SHALT NOT HAVE STRANGE GODS BEFORE ME

This Commandment requires all men to honour, love and worship God by prayer and sacrifice, and through the practice of the virtues of faith, hope and charity. It forbids all sins against these three virtues, namely, Idolatry, witchcraft, impiety, or contemptuous sneering at religion; superstition and sacrilege; belief in dreams, fortune-telling and incantations.

SECOND. THOU SHALT NOT TAKE THE NAME OF THE LORD THY GOD IN VAIN

This Commandment imposes on all the grave obligation of speaking with reverence of God and His saints and ministers, of religion, its practices and ceremonies, and of all things relating to divine services. It teaches the gravity of vows and the duty of keeping solemn promises made to God or in His name. It forbids all rash, unjust and unnecessary oaths, all perjury, cursing, swearing, blasphemy and all profane, vulgar and indecent language.

THIRD. REMEMBER THAT THOU KEEP HOLY THE SABBATH DAY

This commandment decrees that Sunday shall be for all a day of rest, prayer and other religious duties; that all shall observe this day in the manner prescribed by their own religion, and that Catholics shall attend Mass and, if possible, receive Holy Communion and perform some pious works befitting the holiness and calm of the day, such as visiting the sick and lonely, or any of the other spiritual or corporal works of mercy. It prohibits all unnecessary work and whatever would keep Catholics from attending Mass or lead them to a profanation of the Lord’s Day.

FOURTH. HONOUR THY FATHER AND THY MOTHER

This Commandment constrains all to love, honour and obey their parents, and to obey and show due respect to superiors, legitimate rulers and all in rightful authority. It forbids all contempt, stubbornness, ill-will and disobedience to parents and superiors. On the other hand, this Commandment requires parents to provide for and instruct their children, and superiors to be just and kind to their employees, not hindering their religious duties or leading them from God by coercion or temptation.

FIFTH. THOU SHALT NOT KILL

This Commandment condemns wilful murder, quarrelling, fighting, hatred, anger and revenge. It forbids all injurious words, the giving of scandal, which kills the soul, bad example and the refusal to ask pardon for offences committed or to grant it when it is requested.

SIXTH. THOU SHALT NOT COMMIT ADULTERY

This Commandment forbids “all unchaste freedoms with another’s wife or husband”; also all immodest looks, words, and actions, indecent stories, songs, books, pictures and plays, dangerous companions, and persons and places that may be occasions of sin.

SEVENTH. THOU SHALT NOT STEAL

This Commandment obliges all to pay their lawful debts, to restore ill-gotten goods or money, and to return borrowed articles as soon as possible and in as good repair as when borrowed. It forbids all unjust taking or keeping of what belongs to another, all cheating in games or in buying and selling, and all injury to the property of others.

EIGHTH. THOU SHALT NOT BEAR FALSE WITNESS AGAINST THY NEIGHBOUR

This Commandment ordains that all people shall be spoken of with justice, charity and understanding, and that each shall speak of others as he would wish to bespoken of himself; and directs that any injury done to others by false evidence, false reports, rumours and gossip shall be repaired according to the measure of the damage inflicted or to the utmost extent of the offender’s honest ability. It forbids all false testimony, rash judgment and lies, backbiting, calumny, detraction and all words and speeches hurtful to the honour and reputation of others.

NINTH. THOU SHALT NOT COVET THY NEIGHBOUR’S WIFE

This Commandment, like the Sixth, forbids all immodest thoughts desires, words, glances and discourses, and all books, places and persons which might be an occasion of any sin against chastity. It protects the Sacrament of Matrimony by standing guard over its rights and holiness, and thus prevents any initial encroachments on it which might end in divorce, as the futile attempt by men to break the indissoluble bond which was welded together by God is called.

TENTH. THOU SHALT NOT COVET THY NEIGHBOUR’S GOODS

This Commandment prohibits a11 greedy desires for the property of others, and all devious and sharp practices by which a neighbour might be deprived of his goods or fair business profits.

These are the ten great, thundering commands which God gave to Moses on Mount Sinai. Christ showed how all ten of them could be kept in their integrity by man’s love for God and his neighbour. For if we truly love God and our neighbour, we will neither offend nor injure them.

The Church, in conformity with her duty to direct the religious lives of those entrusted to her care, has enunciated

Six Precepts which bind Catholics under pain of mortal sin. They are:

First. To assist at Mass on all Sundays and holydays of obligation.

Second. To fast and abstain on the days appointed.

Third. To confess our sins at least once a year.

FOURTH. TO RECEIVE HOLY COMMUNION DURING THE EASTER TIME

FIFTH. TO CONTRIBUTE TO THE SUPPORT OF THE CHURCH

SIXTH.TO OBSERVE THE CHURCH’S LAWS CONCERNING MARRIAGE

VIRTUES

These are the sixteen laws which God and His Church have solemnly commanded man to obey. They prescribe only what is reasonable, helpful and just, and forbid only what is evil in God’s sight and therefore harmful to society and the individual. By obeying them man is valuable to the State, serviceable to God and profitable to himself. By observing them constantly and in detail, he comes to lead what is called a virtuous life, which is not just a life of intermittent good, or a life good only in high spots, but a habitually good life. In other words, he practices

Supernatural Virtue, which is defined as a habit or quality which enables and inclines a person to do good. It is the facile and constant inclination of the human will to do the will of God. It implies repeated acts. It denotes a permanent tendency, a lasting fitness to do good and an ease in doing it that is akin to the athlete’s effortless, tireless stroke, and, like it, is born of repetition.

There are ten principal virtues in all: three Theological Virtues, four Cardinal Virtues and three Evangelical Virtues, or Counsels. The

Three Theological Virtues are Faith, Hope and Charity. These are called divine virtues, for they actually unite us with God. Faith binds us to Him as the truthful Object of our belief. He cannot betray us. Hope attaches us to Him as the all-loyal Object of our aspirations. He cannot deceive us. And Charity, or Love, merges us with Him as the Chief Good that attracts us. He cannot disappoint us. These three virtues comprise the entire Christian life:

Faith teaches us to know God as our supernatural end; Hope arouses in us the longing to possess Him; Love unites us with Him as far as this is possible here on earth. These three virtues are infused into the soul by the grace of Baptism.

The Four Cardinal Virtues are Prudence, Justice, Fortitude and Temperance, They are called “cardina1” virtues because, like the four cardinal points of the compass, with the other complementary virtues of meekness, diligence. continence, etc., lying between, they enable a person to steer his course safelv through life. They and the virtues which come under them are moral virtues whose practice keeps in check those evils and moral disorders which are incidental to our human frailty. Their perfect observance would be the completion of the natural law, as the theological virtues are the fulfilment of the supernatural or Christian law. Their perfect practice was never accomplished, however, without the aid of Christ’s teaching and grace, though the Stoic philosopher who formulated them in theory did make an appreciable effort in the practice of them. “They are the natural watchmen and servants of the supernatural virtues of Faith, Hope and Charity.

Prudence is an intelligent understanding of the moral values of a certain proposed course of action or undertaking which the inte11ect submits to the will for approval or rejection. It is the virtue which guides a person in his decisions. It comprises foresight, balance, restraint, wariness, humility and acumen. It unites the wisdom of the serpent with the simplicity of the dove.

Justice renders to God and man what is due to each. It contains the virtues of piety, obedience, honesty, truthfulness, respect, gratitude, recompense and liberality. It renders to Caesar the things that are Caesar’s, and to God the things that are God’s.

Fortitude is practised in the unwavering acceptance and endurance of the crosses and hardships of life, and in the unflinching stand taken against those agencies within and without us which work for our moral deterioration. Its component parts are patience and perseverance.

Temperance consists in control of the passions, appetites and instincts which original sin unleashed in our nature, and which actual sins are continually letting loose after grace and repentance have rechained them. It includes sobriety, humility, chastity, awareness and diligence.

The Three Evangelical Counsels are three virtues whose complete observance leads to perfection in the spiritual life. They are:

Voluntary Poverty, or the renunciation of all right to private possessions.

Perfect Chastity, which is the angelic chastity practised by those who voluntarily embrace celibacy and renounce married life.

PERFECT OBEDIENCE, WHICH IS THE FREE AND VOLUNTARY GIVING UP OF OUR OWN WILL TO LIVE AT THE DIRECTION OF A SUPERIOR

These three means to perfection are called Counsels, since Christ did not give them as commands to all, but counselled them as ways to perfection for those who had the supernatural call to follow them. They are protected by three solemn vows or promises to God, Who in return for the pledges made gives the grace necessary to observe them.

And just as those individuals who make these three voluntary pledges need proportionate grace to practise them, so do all men need the grace necessary to observe the Commandments of God, the Precepts of the Church and the Theological and Cardinal, or Moral, Virtues which, taken together, form the obligations of a Christian life. Christ recognised this need and instituted the supreme means of supplying it, namely, the Sacraments.

THE SANCTIFYING CHURCH

The Seven Sacraments . These, with the Sacrifice of the Mass, prayers, the sacramentals, penance and works of mercy, supply men and women in every state of life with the grace necessary for salvation.

A Sacrament is defined as a sensible sign of inward grace, and receives its power to confer grace from the merits of Christ, Who alone instituted, and Who alone could institute, the Sacraments; for only God could give and apply grace to the soul through an outward action. The Seven Sacraments are:

BAPTISM, WHICH CLEANSES US FROM ORIGINAL SIN, MAKES US CHRISTIANS AND CHILDREN OF GOD AND HEIRS TO THE KINGDOM OF HEAVEN

When Baptism is received by adults, it also remits the actual sins which the person may have committed, and all the punishment due to them. So necessary is Baptism that without it no one can enter heaven. The Church defines Baptism as being of three kinds: of Water (the formal reception of the Sacrament), of Desire (the ardent wish to do all that is ordained for salvation), and of Blood (the giving of one’s life for the sake of Christ).

Confirmation, which makes us strong and perfect soldiers of Christ. The special graces which Confirmation confers on the soul are the Seven Gifts of the Holy Ghost: Wlsdom, Understanding, Counsel, Fortitude, Knowledge, Piety and the Fear of the Lord.

The Blessed Eucharist. This is the Sacrament of the Body and Blood, Soul and Divinity, of Jesus Christ under the appearances of bread and wine. This change of bread and wine into Christ’s Body and Blood, Soul and Divinity, is wrought in the Sacrifice of the Mass by the words of consecration spoken by the priest. The Eucharist is received by the faithful in Holy Communion. The conditions for its worthy reception are that the communicants be in a state of grace and fasting from the previous midnight.

Penance, by which those sins which are committed after Baptism are forgiven. For the worthy reception of this Sacrament, a full and sincere confession of all sins committed since the previous good confession is required; also genuine sorrow for these sins and a firm purpose of sinning no more, which latter includes the unconditional resolution of avoiding the occasion of sins, especially of those persons and places which in the past were occasions of sin. The priest speaks the words of absolution, but it is God Who reads the heart and the intention of the penitent. A bad confession, instead of removing sins, adds to them a sacrilege. The penance which the priest imposes should be performed as soon as possible.

Extreme Unction, which confers the grace of a good death. It may be received only by those in danger of death from sickness and should be preceded by a sincere confession.

Holy Orders, which gives to the Church her bishops and priests by conferring on them the power to say Mass, absolve from sin and administer the other Sacraments.

Matrimony, which unites a man and woman in the indissoluble bond of marriage. This bond can be broken only by the death of one of the parties. It confers on the husband and wife the grace to live happily together and to bring up their children in the fear and love of God.

Baptism and Penance are called Sacraments of the Dead, since they are received by persons in sin, and since their object is to cleanse the soul from sin and bring it back from spiritual death to a life of grace. The other five Sacraments are called Sacraments of the Living, for they can be received worthily only by those in the state of grace, that is, of spiritual life. Baptism, Confirmation and Holy Orders can be received only once, the others more than once.

Each Of the Sacraments confers a particular grace which men need to carry out the duties of their state, and to die in God’s friendship. St. Bonaventure makes an ingenious and evocative application of the Sacraments to the Christian, whom he envisions as a soldier of Christ. Baptism, he says, is the Sacrament of those who enter the army of Christ; Confirmation that of those engaged in actual battle; the Eucharist that of those regaining strength; Penance that of the fighter arising from defeat; Extreme Unction that of the dying; Holy Orders that of the officers charged with training new soldiers; and Matrimony that of those whose business it is to furnish new recruits.

Prayer is the next great source of grace after the Mass and the Sacraments. It is defined as an elevation of the soul to God, to adore Him, to bless His holy name, to praise His goodness, to return Him thanks for His benefits and to petition Him humbly far all the necessities of soul and body. The prayers most highly recommended for daily recital are, the Lord’s Prayer, the Hail Mary, the Apostles” Creed, the Confiteor. and Acts of Contrition and of Faith, Hope and Charity. Prayer unites the individual soul to God, and binds together in one great unit of help and communication of spiritual good the three group, of members of the indivisible Church. These are

The Church Militant, or the members of the Church who are still on earth waging the battle of life.

The Church Suffering, or her deceased members who are sure of heaven but who are expiating the temporal punishment due to their sins. This expiation takes place in Purgatory, a place and state in which the souls of the just, if they die with any guilt of venial sin or any debt of temporal punishment, suffer until all debts have been paid. Reason and Revelation both demand the existence of Purgatory. For on the one hand, nothing defiled can enter heaven; and on the other, a person may die who is guilty of unforgiven venial sin, or who has received absolution for his sins, but has not yet paid the temporal punishment which sin incurs.

The Church Triumphant, or her members who have attained to the glory and happiness of heaven. This teaching of reciprocal help among the members of Christ’s Church through prayers and good works is called

The Communion of Saints. It is an article of faith.

The Sacramentals. These are rites and ceremonies instituted by the Church to promote the glory of God and the salvation of souls. They are the pious use of holy water, of the crucifix, of blessed bread, the wearing of scapulars and blessed medals, the blessings by priests, bishops and the Pope, Benediction of the Blessed Sacrament, the lighting of blessed candles, and many other devotions.

Indulgences are often attached to the performance of these pious works. An indulgence, which means a pardon, is defined as an act of mercy exercised by the Church apart from the Sacrament of Penance, by which we may gain partial or plenary remission, through the merits of our Saviour, of the temporal punishment remaining due for sin; the guilt and eternal punishment having been already remitted in absolution. Indulgences are gained in many ways, among which is the performing of

The Works of Mercy. These fall into two divisions:

The Spiritual Works of Mercy: to counsel and advise the doubtful and depressed, to instruct the ignorant, to try to bring back to God those who have gone astray, especially if there is a reasonable hope that they will listen to the plea, to comfort the afflicted, to forgive offences, to bear wrongs patiently, and to pray for the living and the dead.

The Corporal Works of Mercy: To feed the hungry, to give drink to the thirsty, to clothe the naked, to give shelter to the homeless, to visit the sick, to visit those in prison, to ransom those in captivity, to bury the dead.

Devotion to the Blessed Virgin Mary is among the greatest, most ancient, and most efficacious means of keeping God’s grace and of finding it again when it has been lost through sin. Catholics honour and venerate Mary, as God Himself did. They do not worship her, for that would be idolatry, as Catholics well know. They give to Mary the same kind of veneration as they do the saints, but in a greater degree, for Mary, though a creature, is the most perfect creature that God ever made. They worship God alone as the Creator of the Universe, as the all-perfect Being, the Pure Spirit, the Father and Judge of all men, Who was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be.

PRAYERS

THE SIGN OF THE CROSS. In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.

THE LORD”S PRAYER

Our Father, Who art in heaven, hallowed be Thy name; Thy kingdom come; Thy will be done on earth, as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread; and forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us; and lead us not into temptation; but deliver us from evil.

Amen.

THE ANGELIC SALUTATION

Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee; blessed art thou among women; and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death.

Amen.

THE GLORY

Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Ghost; as it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be, world without end. Amen.

SPIRITUAL COMMUNION

(Spiritual Communion is an ardent desire to receive Jesus Christ, in the Most Holy Sacrament, and a heartfelt welcome as if we had actually received Him. A fervent Spiritual Communion sometimes produces results similar to those of actual Communion. We should make a Spiritual Communion as often as we assist at Holy Mass or whenever we visit the Blessed Sacrament. We may make a Spiritual Communion frequently during the day. This pious practice tends to increase our devotion to Jesus in the Sacrament of His Love, and our fervour in the reception of Holy Communion.)

My Jesus, I believe that Thou art present in the Most Holy Sacrament. I love Thee above all things, and I desire to possess Thee within my soul. Since I cannot now receive Thee sacramentally, come at least spiritually into my heart. I embrace Thee as being already there and unite myself wholly to Thee; never permit me to be separated from Thee. Our Father (3 times).

O sweetest Heart of Jesus, I implore that I may ever love Thee more and more.

NihiI obstat:

F. MOYNIHAN, Censor Deputatus. lmprimatur:

@ D. MANNIX,

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis.

********

The Poor And The Saint Vincent De Paul Society

BY A VINCENTIAN FATHER

INDEX

THE POOR

WHY WE SHOULD EVER HELP THEM, and

THE PART PLAYED BY THE ST. VINCENT DE PAUL SOCIETY IN THE DISTRIBUTION OF THAT HELP

SECTION I

WHY WE SHOULD HELP THE POOR

“Amen, I say to you: As long as you did it to one of these, my least brethren, you did it TO ME,” and”Amen, I say to you: As long as you did it not to one of these least, neither did you do it TO ME” (St. Matthew x.xv., 40 and 45).

THE Poor! That is the s ubject of this paper, and, by that term “Poor,” the writer has principally in view those who suffer from a real shortage of this world’s goods-a condition of things that is accentuated if they should also happen to be sick.

There are other kinds of poverty besides this. Indeed, there are worse kinds. Of these the greatest and saddest is spiritual poverty, arising out of either ignorance or neglect to use the knowledge a person has. There are people who know little, or nothing, about God and God’s dealings with mankind, whereby He raises them from the low level of nature to the supernatural plane, and destines them for eternal union with Him as courtiers round His throne. They know nothing of the real nobility of human life. They may have plenty of this world’s goods, so that envious fellow-men regard them as rich, but they are poor with the worst of poverty. Others there are, who know these things, and who know that, to reach to the lofty destiny God has in mind for them, they must live lives of obedience to His laws; but this they will not do, simply because the sinful attractions of the world appeal too strongly to them. Hence, though they, too, may be rich in this world’s goods, they are the poorest of the poor in the things that really count.

Reference will again be made to them before the end of this paper, when we are treating of the work of the St. Vincent de Paul Society; but, for the present, when we speak of the “Poor,” we speak of those who are more or less in want, and especially if, in addition to this, they are sick.

Well, then, first of all, there always will be poor people in the world. The Master Himself declared: “The poor you have always with you, and, whensoever you will, you may do them good” (St. Mark xiv., 7). We all know that there is a political system in operation in one part of the world to-day, which claims that, when it has come to its full development, there will be no rich or no poor. We all know, too, that the advocates of that system are very active in our own midst here in Australia, fully determined to put their theories into practice amongst us. It is a pity that so much enthusiasm, ability, and energy should be wasted in the pursuit of this dream, especially as there are so many terrible evils mixed up in it with a great deal of good. Dream it certainly is, because it is opposed to Human Nature, in consequence of which, as soon as all have been reduced to the one level, inequality will begin again, and, once again, the poor will be with us.

It is idle to seek to overthrow Human Nature. We all saw a classic instance of this in the recent calamitous World War. Not so long before it burst in all its horror upon the world, there appeared a book, written by Norman Angell, which was hailed with intense enthusiasm. It gave a masterly exposition of the operations of the great financiers of the different countries, and showed how much English money was invested in German securities, and vice versa, and how all the great countries were similarly intertwined with one another in~matters that affected their financial standing.

From this interlocking, the author drew the conclusion that war was an impossibility, precisely because of this selfinterest.

The writer of this paper vividly recalls an argument that occurred at the time between an ardent supporter of Norman Angell and another man who disclaimed any great knowledge of finance but had the philosophic turn of mind. After listening for a time to the enthusiastic champion of Angell’s views, the philosopher said calmly: “My friend, you are overlooking the biggest factor of all in the making of war-viz., Human Nature. As long as man is as he is, when national pride is touched, all the financial complexities in the world will not stop war.” Unfortunately, it was not long before the nations were at one another’s throats, and when next the two parties in the argument met, the advocate of Norman Angell’s views was wearing khaki and serving as a surgeon in the army of the Allies. He sadly admitted that his opponent had taken the right view of the situation.

Yes! Human Nature has to be always reckoned with and, should Communists and all advanced Socialists ever see the day when they shall have forced their system on a reluctant world, they will see that same factor of Human Nature again producing inequality, and the Master’s words will again be true: “The poor you have always with you.”

At any rate, there is no doubt that at present the poor are with us. Many are poor today who never dreamt that such would be their condition. They have known much better days, so that to their present poverty is added bitterness of feelings against the world in general, and, in many cases, against individuals whom they blame for their decline in fortune. There is even bitterness against God, so that spiritual poverty is superadded to material poverty.

It is, then, the purpose of this paper to show, first of all, why we, Catholics, should help to the fullest extent of our ability; and, secondly, to advocate the cause of the St. Vincent de Paul Society as a divinely given method of applying our help with the greatest possible efficiency.

WHY, THEN, SHOULD WE HELP?

(1) PURELY NATURAL REASONS,

(a) The poor are our fellow human beings, and that, too, no matter to what class they belong, to what religion, what political party, what nationality. One human being should ever have compassion for another who is in want or suffering, and, to the honour of humanity be it said, it is not often one meets with men so heartless as not to be moved by the distress of others. Indeed, in this respect, the Australian people enjoy an enviable reputation for their spontaneous generosity whenever a case of genuine distress is brought to their notice. Still, we deserve this rebuke, viz., that it has to be brought to the notice of many. They do not see it for themselves, and the reason usually is that they have become so frenzied in the pursuit of pleasure and self-indulgence that they have become selfishly insensible to what others around them are suffering. They wouldn’t let a dog go hungry, and they are quick to see its plight; but, where human beings are in question, they fail to see, and hence, unconsciously, they are selfish examples of believers in the doctrine of the “survival of the fittest.” It must not be so with us. Humanity, alone, should impel us, in these hard times, to be quick to see and prompt to act, even to the extent of self-denial, when our fellow mortals are pinched with want, and still more when to want is added sickness.

(b) We may know poverty ourselves some day, and the kind offices of charitable people may be much desired by us then. In these days of anxiety, few are safe, and it is a very wise man who can say what the future will bring forth. As was said above, there are people poor today who never for a moment thought such circumstances should arise for them. It may be our turn next. In any case, even when times are normal, a bout of sickness for the breadwinner of a family can alter the whole face of things for people who never before knew anxiety about the “what shall we eat, or what shall we drink, or wherewith shall we be clothed.”

One thing is certain as a result of the universal experience of mankind, and that is that, in exact proportion as we shall have been compassionate and sympathetic with the poor and distressed in the hey-day of our prosperity, in that same proportion will others be kind to us, should misfortune come.

For these two purely natural considerations, therefore, we ought to keep our eyes open to see the misery around us, and our hearts kindly disposed to come to the relief of our fellow-men, no matter what their class, religion, political conviction, or nationality. They are human beings; so are we. They are in distress. We can help them. It is, therefore, a duty of common humanity to do so.

There are, however, much higher reasons than these to impel us to help our less fortunate brethren. To do so purely out of natural sympathy is, at best, only a natural virtue, such as we should expect to find in one savage towards another. Such assistance has nothing of the supernatural about it, and consequently can expect no supernatural recognition. Let us, therefore, pass on to these more important reasons for our benevolence and beneficence.

(2) SUPERNATURAL REASONS

(a) God commands us to succour the poor: -Every human being is a child of God, and, consequently, we are brothers and sisters, all under the common Father of all.

Now God has given, from the beginning, the command: “Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself.” That word “neighbour” is all-embracing. It is not confined to those who are immediately bound to us by ties of blood; nor is it confined to those who are our friends; nor yet to those who, though not in our circle of friendship, live in our immediate vicinity; nor even to all those who claim Australia as their common country. No! There are no limits. This was made indisputably clear, when, in the fullness of time, the Second Person of the Blessed Trinity came to our earth in human form.

On one occasion, when, in answer to a query, He had confirmed the ancient law of loving the neighbour as oneself, His questioner further asked: “And who is my neighbour?”

He could have answered in direct terms; but He preferred to paint a supposititious case, and draw the reply from that. He represented a man attacked by robbers, wounded, stripped, and left in his misery helpless by the roadside. It is well to impress here that Our Lord was speaking to Jews, and the text indicates that the afflicted man was a Jew. The importance of remembering this will be seen when we now examine the conduct of the three who passed along the road and saw the miserable condition of the victim. The three were-a priest, a levite, and a Samaritan. The two former were Jews, who should, therefore, naturally have had compassion for a fellow-countryman in distress; moreover, their very office should have made them examples to those who held no such official position. What did they do? Nothing! They left the poor man in his suffering. The third was a Samaritan. Now, there was great enmity between the Jews and the Samaritans, both from the racial and the religious point of view. It would not, consequently, have occasioned any surprise if this Samaritan had imitated the Jewish priest and levite. The victim was his enemy-at least, he was of a race which he despised. Yet Our Lord represents him as exercising all the offices of kindness, providing for both the present and future wants of the sufferer.

Then Our Lord put the question to him who, sought to know what was meant by that word “neighbour”: “Which of these three, in thy opinion, was neighbour to him that fell among the robbers?”

The answer, of course, was obvious: “He that showed mercy to him.” Our Lord’s picture was now complete, and the lesson could be drawn in emphatic terms: “Go, and do thou in like manner.”

Even our enemies, then, must come under our observance of Christ’s Law of Universal Love, and this He stated categorically at another time,when He said: “Love your enemies. Do good to them that hate you, bless them that curse you, and pray for them that persecute and calumniate you.”

After having said those striking words, He gives the reason thus: “That you may be the children of your Father, Who is in heaven, Who maketh His sun to rise upon the good and bad, and raineth upon the just and the unjust.

“For, if you love them that love you, what reward shall you have? Do not even the publicans this? And if you salute your brethren only, what do you more? Do not also the heathens this?”

His followers are expected to rise above personal likes and dislikes, above class distinctions, above differences of nationality, creed, or political opinion; they must be like His eternal Father, whose love knows no limits. Hence, He concludes: “Be ye, therefore, perfect, as also your heavenly Father is perfect.”

Included in that universal love are, of course, the poor; and especially the sick poor, and God’s command, reiterated and confirmed by Christ, is the all-impelling motive for our service to them. Indeed, there can be no real love of God without this love of the neighbour, especially when his poverty puts him in need of our practical love. St. John distinctly says: “If any man say: I love God, and hateth his brother, he is a liar. For he that loveth not his brother, whom he seeth, how can he love God, Whom he seeth not?” and, dealing more specifically with the case we are considering, he says: “He, that hath the substance of this world and shall see his brother in need, and shall shut up his bowels from him, how doth the charity of God abide in him?” No! There can be no real love for God in the heart of the man who neglects the poor, and, if there is no love for God, there can be no heaven, because this isthe greatest and the firsts commandment: “Thou shalt love the Lord thy God, with thy whole heart, and with thy whole soul-with all thy strength and with all thy mind.”

God commands, then, and Christ confirms the command. Indeed, He even raises the standard higher, because, whereas the old command was to love the neighbour “as ourselves,” He says: “A new commandment I give you-that you love one another as I have loved you,” and He loved even to the extent of dying for all: “Greater love than this no man hath than that a man lay down his life for his friends.”

God commands, Christ confirms the command and set a yet higher standard-no motive can be greater than that. To neglect the command necessarily involves punishment, and, though we had no reason to expect it, the observance of the command ensures abundant blessings for Time and Eternity. This is the second of the supernatural motives. (b) God will punish disobedience, and will reward observance:—He will punish :-The classic proof of this is derived fromOur Lord’s own words, when He describes the Last Judgment scene. He says: “Then shall the King say to them that shall be on His left hand: Depart from Me, you cursed, into everlasting fire, which was prepared for the devil and his angels. For, I was hungry, and you gave Me not to eat; I was thirsty, and you gave Me not to drink; I was a Stranger, and you took Me not in; naked, and you covered Me not; sick and in prison, and you did not visit Me.

“Then they shall answer Him, saying: Lord, when did we see Thee hungry, or thirsty, or a Stranger, or naked, or sick, or in prison, and did not minister to Thee?

“Then He shalt answer them, saying: Amen, I say to you, as long as you did it not to one of these least, neither did you do it to Me?”

It is certainly a very striking fact that what the Lord selects, out of all the black record of human crime, to justify eternal reprobation is the neglect of the social duty of wealth. We are only too eager to seize on the promise of eternal beatitude, in consequence of the discharge of that duty, and we take complacence in the thought that we have thereby done well: but we forget that, while God need not reward us for doing our duty, it is a matter of eternal justice that He should punish us for the neglect of it.

He emphasises the same idea in the case of the parable of the man and the beggar at his gate. He says: “There was a certain rich man, who was clothed in purple and fine linen, and feasted sumptuously every day. And there was a certain beggar, named Lazarus, who lay at his gate, full of sores, desiring to be filled with the crumbs that fell from the rich man’s table, and no one did give him.”

Continuing, he pictures the fate of the two: “And it came to pass that the beggar died, and was carried by the angels into Abraham’s bosom; and the rich man also died, and was buried in hell.”

Then, he represents the rich man, in his misery, begging that Lazarus be sent to bring him relief, and Abraham’s answer was: “Son, remember that thou did’st receive good things in thy lifetime, and likewise Lazarus evil things; but now, he is comforted, and thou art tormented,” and the reason is obvious-viz., that the rich man failed to help his poor neighbour.

In both those examples quoted, stress is laid on the punishment in the next life. Oftentimes, too, there is punishment even in this. At any rate, there is often this much punishment that the blessings promised to those who succour the poor are not given to those who fail to do so, and life is all the poorer in consequence. We shall now proceed to consider these rewards.

God rewards, both in Time and Eternity, those who obey His law of Love in this respect.

Sacred Scripture, of both the Old and New Testaments, abounds in the most wonderful promises of temporal and eternal blessings. Let us classify some of these from the Old Testament first:—In Tobias (iv., 7 to 12), we read: “Give alms out of thy substance, and turn not away thy face from any poor person; for, so it shall come to pass that the face of the Lord shall not be turned from thee. According to thy ability, be merciful. If thou have much, give abundantly; if thou have little, take care even so to bestow willingly a little; for, thus thou storest up for thyself a good reward for the day of necessity. For, alms deliver from all sin, and will not suffer the soul to go into darkness. Alms shall be a great confidence before the Most High God, to all them thatgive it.”

In the Psalms (xi., 1 to 4): “Blessed is he that understandeth concerning the needy and the poor. The Lord will deliver him in the evil day. The Lord will preserve him, and give him life, and make him blessed upon the earth and deliver him notup to the will of his enemies. The Lord will help him on his bed of sorrow.”

In the 111th Psalm, verses 5 and 6: “Acceptable is the man who showeth mercy and lendeth. He shall order his words with judgment, because he shall not be moved for ever.” In the Book of Proverbs (xxii., 9): “He, that is inclined to mercy, shall be blessed: for, of his bread, he hath given to the poor.”

In the same Book (xxviii., 27): “He, that giveth to the poor, shall not want.”

Again, in chapter xxxi., mention is made of the valiant woman, and it is said of her: “Far and from the coasts is the price of her.” Then, all sorts of blessings are poured upon her because of her many good qualities, amongst which is numbered this, that “she hath opened her hand to the needy, and stretched out her hands to the poor.”

In Ecclesiasticus (i., I to 4 and 10 and 11), elaborate directions are given on this subject of consideration for those in distress, and a beautiful promise is added. The words are: “Son, defraud not the poor of alms, and turn not away thy eyes from the poor: Despise not the hungry soul, and provoke not the poor in his want. Afflict not the heart oft the needy, and defer, not to give to him that is in distress. Reject not the petition of the afflicted, and turn not away thy face from the needy. In judging, be merciful to the fatherless as a father, and as a husband to their mother, and thou shalt be as the obedient Son of the Most High, and He will have mercy on thee more than a mother.” What a beautiful promise!

In the same Book(vii., 36): “Stretch out thy hand to the poor, that thy expiation and thy blessing may be perfected.”

In chapter xxxix., verses 15 to 17: “Shut up alms in the heart of the poor, and it shall obtain help for thee against all evil. Better than the shield ofthe mighty, and better than the spear, it shall fight for thee against thy enemy.”

Finally, in chapter xxxi, verse 28: “The lips of many shall bless him, who is liberal of his bread.” In Isaias (iviii., 7 to 11), there is a long passage, but it is so beautiful and so encouraging, that it were a pity not to insert it here. It reads thus: “Deal thy bread to the hungry, and bring the needy and the harbourless into thy house. When thou shalt see one naked, cover him, and despise not thy own flesh.

“Then, shall thy light break forth as the morning, and thy health shall speedily arise, and thy justice shall go before thy face, and the glory of the Lord shalt gather thee up. Then shalt thou call, and the Lord shall hear; thou shalt cry, and He shall say: Here I am.

“If thou wilt taken away the chain out of the midst of thee [i.e]., the burden that oppresses the poor, and so holds them like a chain], and cease to stretch out the finger [i.e., hard words and railleries at the poor-the finger of scorn], and to speak that which profiteth not; when thou shalt pour out thy soul to the hungry, and shalt satisfy the afflicted soul then shall thy light rise up in darkness, and thy darkness shall be as the noon-day, and the Lord will give thee rest continually, and will fill thy soul with brightness, and deliver thy bones, and thou shalt be like a watered garden, and like a fountain of water, whose water shall not fail.”

That completes a wonderful list, of promises from the Old Testament, selected from a bewildering collection. They promise every blessing in life and in death, blessings for body and soul, blessings for Time and Eternity.

Now let us pass to the New Testament. There is no need to give any long list, because Our Lord’s own classic promise covers all. Before passing to that, let it suffice to give but two, and these from St. Paul in his Epistle to the Hebrews (xiii., 16), he says: “Do not forget to do good and to impart; for, by such sacrifices, God’s favour is obtained.”

In the second, to the Corinthians (ix., 6 and 7): “Now this I say: He, who soweth sparingly, shall also reap sparingly, and he, who soweth in blessings, shall also reap blessings. Everyone as he hath determined in his heart, not with sadness or of necessity; for God loveth a cheerful giver.”

Now we come to the great promise of all. It is Our Lord’s own, and is given in chapter xxv. verses 34 to 40, of St. Matthew’s Gospel, where He painted for us the awe-inspiring scene of the Last Judgment. He says: “Then I shall the King say to them that shall be on His right hand:

“Come, ye blessed of My Father, possess you the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world.”

It need hardly be remarked that those, who shall be fortunate enough to have those words addressed to them, shall receive in that reward all that can satisfy the heart of man. Let us now listen further to Our Lord; He goes on to give the reason for such a blessing on the happy ones. He says: “For, I was hungry, and you gave Me to eat; I was thirsty, and you gave Me to drink; I was a Stranger, and you took Me in; naked, and you covered Me; sick, and you visited Me; I was in prison, and you cameto Me.”

Naturally, this arouses amazement in the minds of those so addressed, and Our Lord represents them as asking “Lord, when did we see Thee hungry, and fed Thee; thirsty, and gave Thee to drink? And when did we see Thee a Stranger, and took Thee in-or naked, and covered Thee? Or, when did we see Thee sick or in prison, and came to Thee?”

Then the Saviour tells us what shall be His answer to that query, and, in telling us, He has given us the principle which has been the impelling factor in all works of Christian charity from the day Our Lord spoke, and which will inspire the same charity till time shall be no more. Listen to Him: “The King, answering, shall say to them: Amen, I say to you, as long as you did it to one of these, my least Brethren, you did it to Me.”

These fortunate ones had done many acts of Christ-like charity during their time on earth. They had not shut their eyes to the misery round about them; they had not shut their ears when others told them such misery existed, although they werenot in a position to see it for themselves. Moreover, having been, or heard, they had “understood concerning the needy and the poor,” and, understanding, they had sympathised-giving expression to their sympathy in the practical form of help, when they could do so, or of kindly encouragement when their hands were tied by the lack of personal possessions. All this they had done, not from mere natural sympathy, but for the supernatural motive of the love of God, because they knew that only works done under the impulse of Grace can merit an eternal reward. It might have been that they were sometimes not in the state of Grace, when they did these acts for God’s sake. On such occasions, they did not merit the reward of heaven, but they did win mercy from God, which enabled them to repent sincerely and get back into the state of God’s favour. At any rate, the end of life finds them in Sanctifying Grace, and they are gladly surprised to find that many of their “little unremembered acts of kindness and of love,” done through the years of their pilgrimage, have merited for them a wondrous reward. They are surprised to find that Our Lord Himself has treasured up all those little acts and regarded them as personal favours-favours done to Himself.

One can always find beautiful thought in the contemplation of the scene related in the fourth chapter of the Gospel of St. John. Our Lord had come, in His wanderings after souls, to Jacob’s well, at Sichar, a city of Samaria. The Gospel narrative is touching in its simplicity. It says: “Jesus, therefore, being wearied with His journey, sat thus on the well. There cometh a woman of Samaria to draw water, Jesus saith to her: Give me to drink. For, His disciples were gone into the city to buy meats.”

He was hungry, thirsty, weary. It is a great help to us, poor mortals subject to the miseries and necessities of life, to see that the God-man Himself experienced all the same miseries as we, with, of course, the single exception of sin. That, He could not experience. Temptation? Yes! Sin? No!

Now, had we lived in those days, and had we known that He was God, would we not have counted it the greatest honour of our lives if we had been privileged to supply His needs-to give Him food, drink, clothing, shelter, when He suffered from the want of them?

Well, there is no reason why we should envy those who did have that privilege. He has made it possible for us all to claim it, by identifying Himself with the poor, and taking as done to Himself what we do, for the love of God, for our fellow human beings in distress.

Need any more be said on this point? There are poor people in the, world around us; there always will be. We should help them, no matter who they may be. Every motive, both natural and supernatural, is there to urge us to it-our common humanity on the natural side, the command of God on the supernatural side, with its concomitants of fear of punishment for neglect of that command and hope of unspeakable rewards of Time and in Eternity. Yes! We should help the poor.

SECTION II

THE PART PLAYED BY THE ST. VINCENT DE PAUL SOCIETY IN THE DISTRIBUTION OF OUR HELP

Poverty and distress may be found in very many forms. The Church, beneficent mother that she is, has made provision in different institutions to meet, as far as she possibly can, every need of suffering humanity.

An examination of the charitable institutions conducted by religious communities and others, under the guidance of the Catholic Church, in our own land of Australia would, we venture to think, cause much surprise even to our own Catholics, both on account of their number and the variety of, forms of distress for which they cater. It can with truth be said that there is scarcely a need of the poor and afflicted for which there is not provision made. The number of orphanages approaches 40, and that of hospitals exceeds 30. Magdalene Homes, in one form or another, total 10; homes for the aged poor, 9; foundling hospitals, 6. Then there are poor schools, industrial schools, hostels, deaf and dumb institutes, a hospice for the dying, and various other institutions, each meeting some particular call of poverty or affliction.

Some of these are, of course, self-supporting, at least in part; but by far the larger portion of them are supported by the charity of our Catholic people.

In the light of all that, it might reasonably seem that all that has been said in the first section was unnecessary. Our Catholic people as a whole are certainly wonderful in their charity to these institutions and their inmates; moreover, they do much in private charity, and no appeal is ever made to them in vain. The question, however, is one for each individual. Are all doing what they could, or is it the same faithful comparative few that are doing this wondrous work? Furthermore, even in the case of those that are doing something, what is their attitude of mind? It is easy to adopt a wrong attitude in this matter. It is easy to conceive the idea that, because one does something to relieve want, or help deserving causes, he deserves praise and commendation. That would be to forget that one is only performing a duty-obeying a command of God, disobedience to which involves severe punishment. There are few lessons in the Gospels so clear as that the possessions that we have, over and above the legitimate demands of our station in life, are by no means, ours, in the sense that we are the owners of them in the sight of God. We are not owners, we are but stewards of the possessions of God, and if, owing to the inequality of talents in individuals and the inequality of opportunity, which is part of God’s designs for mankind, we find ourselves possessed of more than we legitimately need, while others are in want, it is an absolute duty for us to share our superabundance. We do not deserve commendation for merely discharging that duty, but, because God is so good, He does reward in a divinely munificent way.

The remarks, therefore, of Section I. should have their value in this way:-Those who so far have not been doing their duty to their afflicted brethren should see from them that it behooves them to make a beginning at once and persevere in this branch of well-doing to the end, while those who have been doing something should ask themselves two questions- viz., (a) Am I doing all I can and should? (b) In doing even what I have done, have I preserved the right attitude of mind, that is to say, have I regarded myself as having done something wonderful, rather than at having done only what I was bound to do?

Returning, then, to our theme, the Catholic people as a whole are very remarkable in their support of the many charitable institutions that are in existence in our midst, under the guidance of the Church, and, though this paper has for its purpose to advocate the cause of the St. Vincent de Paul society, the writer himself, and certainly the members of that admirable society would be the very last to press the claims of the work sponsored by them, if that meant any subtraction from the assistance given to all the other forms of charity to which we have referred. By all manner of means, you who have helped hospitals, orphanages, Magdalene Homes, etc., continue to do so, and do even more if you can; but, now, give some consideration to what will be written in the remainder of this paper!

(A) THE STORY OF THE ORIGIN OF THE ST. VINCENT DE PAUL SOCIETY

The opening years of the last century found France in a sad state. The French Revolution, as it will ever be called -the great Revolution amongst several that have disturbed that country-was just over, and the nation was in a chaotic state, economically, socially, religiously,

The great struggle had been like the eruption of a volcano, after long rumbling had told of the unrest beneath. For a long, long time the ordinary people had been seething with discontent under the oppression of the aristocrat and upper classes generally. There can be no doubt that there was good reason for all this unrest, and there was not wanting leaders and agitators to keep the mind of the down-trodden classes in a perpetual state of ferment. At last, they felt their power sufficiently to come out into the open and precipitate the long-threatened conflict, in which the throne tottered to its fall, and most of the old established social and political fabrics were shattered.

Poverty had been the impelling cause of the revolt, and, as usual in such cases, the people generally had hugged the delusion that, once the old system was destroyed, a new era of peace and prosperity would immediately begin. Such however, is not the usual course of human affairs. Any conflict on a large scale must leave exhaustion in its train, and time must elapse before things begin to re-adjust themselves, even if the new system has great advantages over the old. It is like the calm that follows a storm, when leisure is given to the onlooker to survey the wreckage that the storm has caused. Before a brighter day dawns that wreckage must be swept away, and the initial steps must be made at reconstruction, which, in its turn, takes years to manifest its fruits. Not till then does this old earth of ours begin to look, once again, a pleasant place for the habitation of man.

The French Revolution set out to remove poverty and oppression. Its first work was one of destruction, and, at the beginning of the last century, the calm had come with ruin all around. Many a bread-winner had gone down in the struggle, and where poverty had abounded before, it did still more abound after.

Poverty, however, is not the worst of evils. The world has seen two small nations go through long periods of poverty; but they accepted it in a Christian spirit, rising thereby to great heights of moral greatness that won the admiration even of a material and unsympathetic world. Those two nations were Ireland and Poland. True, while they did bear their cross in a Christian spirit, they never ceased to urge the just claims of free-born men to liberty and a reasonable share of this world’s goods, and in this they were perfectly right. Well had it been for France if her people had preserved the same mental and spiritual outlook that distinguished the people of Ireland and Poland. They would then have been able to face the inevitable reaction after the destructive period with, at least, their faith in God unimpaired.

Unfortunately, it was not so. The leaders in the revolutionary movement had become steeped in the infidel philosophy of Voltaire, Rousseau, and the Encyclopedists, and they had sedulously disseminated these ideas through the ranks of the people generally. Consequently, when the calm of exhaustion came, it was at once apparent that the erstwhile glorious Catholic Faith of the French people had been undermined. Atheism and agnosticism had spread afar, and the enemies of the Church gloated over what seemed to them the deathbed of Catholicism, and, indeed, of Christianity. Many who still called themselves Catholics were so only in name; they did not practise their religion; faith was weak; and morality sank to a very low level.

It was into the midst of a world such as this that a child was born who was destined to write his name in large and lasting characters across the pages of the histories of France and of the Church. His father was first a military man, then a professor, and, finally, a doctor. The family name was Ozanam, and to the child was given the Christian name of Frederick. Frederick Ozanam! What a world of glorious achievements in the cause of all that is noble and good is conjured up by that name! His life was not a long one; he died when he was but 40 years of age, but, in that comparatively short life, is crowded a record of good deeds, and of permanent work established, that might well be the envy of many who have lived beyond the allotted span of three score years and ten.

Frederick was a precocious child. Indeed, so early did he manifest maturity of mind that we may well question was he ever a child, as we know children to he. When he was only 15 years of age, he wrote a defence of the doctrines of the Church against the errors of the Simonians which called forth the wondering eulogy of such a master as Lamartine. At 17 he went through a trial with regard to his Faith which others have experienced at much later years, and he issued from it with a purpose that stamped him as old far beyond the number of his days.

This incident is of immense importance to anyone who is anxious to know something of the origin of the St. Vincent de Paul Society. It may be said that it was as the result of the struggle which it records that, at a later date, this wonderful society was called into being. That may seem a strange thing to say, but the story of subsequent events will prove it to be perfectly true. In later years, he spoke of this trial of faith as “the horror of those doubts pursuing us even at night to the pillow we have drenched with our tears.” In his extremity, he entered a church one day and prayed with all his soul to be delivered from the temptation that assailed him, promising that, if God gave him light to see the Truth, he would for ever after devote himself to its defence. Peace came. Faith’s light shone brightly again in his soul, and he tells us himself: “I vowed to consecrate my days to the service of that Truth which had given me peace.”

His vow was soon to be put to the t est. The next year he left his father’s home at Lyons to go to the University of Paris, where he was to complete his studies for his career in life. At the very outset, he found amongst his fellow-students all the irreligion of which we have already spoken as being a too general condition of things amongst the French people after the Revolution. Faith was dead in many of them, weak in many more. They openly scoffed at religion, and their moral conduct was deplorable.

It was all a sad shock to him after the lively faith and fervent devotion to which he had been accustomed in his own home.

What, however, shocked him more was to find that the very professors themselves openly attacked the Church and her doctrines, teaching all sorts of errors to those young students in the most dangerous years of their lives. We have already said that the infidel philosophy of Voltaire, Rousseau, and the Encyclopedists had permeated the rank and file of the people. Let us add that, amongst the crowning horrors of the Revolution period must be numbered two, as indicative of the depths to which religious feeling had fallen. The first is that one of the great churches of Paris had been stripped of every sign of its sacred purpose, and had been turned into a mausoleum for the burial of the great men of France-many of them, in their morality, a travesty on the idea of greatness-so that, what had been a centre for Catholic without a Cross, a sepulchre where no religious idea lingered.” The second is that in the Cathedral of Notre Dame itself, the mother church of the nation, not merely had the Blessed Sacrament been banished, but those miscreants had actually enshrined a statue of the Goddess of Liberty on the altar.

Knowing all this, it does not surprise us to find the professorial chairs of the University disgraced by teachers of infidelity; but it is easy to understand what a shock it was to Ozanam.

His vow to serve Truth all his days was fresh in his memory, and he burned to defend the Church against both the professors and his fellow-students. At first, however, he did not know his companions. He did not know that, amongst so many young atheists and libertines, there was a fair sprinkling of splendid Catholic youths, who all felt the same indignation as he did. That fact he discovered by a trifling happening. One day, when the professor was unusually violent in his impious denunciation of the Church and Christianity, Ozanam could not repress showing his disgust by shrugs and other actions, which drew on him the attention of those around-attention that was hostile on the part of the majority, but attention that was frankly commendatory from at least one. After the lecture, this latter sought him out, and then began a holy friendship that lasted all through life. Soon others were joined to the two, and a little band of Catholic youths began to associate with one another, and discuss what they could do to oppose the baneful influence of those around them.

Presently they formed themselves into a little Study Circle, to equip themselves with arguments to refute the wrong teaching of the professors and the erroneous opinions of most of the students. Very soon the lecture hall of the University became the scene of animated discussion, and the young Catholic champion had the courage to even openly question the teaching given from the professorial chairs. Ozanam soon became the natural leader, and, under his guidance, they sought for assistance and advice from an older man, Monsieur Bailly, who became deeply interested in these courageous young men. Through him, a meeting was arranged with the famous Dominican preacher, Père Lacordaire, who thenceforth frequently joined in the activities of the Study Circle, and gave to the instruction of Ozanam and his friends all his great learning and polemical skill. Other famous men were also gradually attracted-men like Montalembert, SaintBeuve, Savigny. Ampere, and others.

Finally, in the course of an argument, that was particularly heated, between the Catholic youths and some of their opponents, a taunt was thrown into the teeth of Ozanam, who had defended the Church and Christianity by an able exposition of all that these two great forces had done for the world down through the ages. This taunt was: “Yes, you have a right to speak of the past. In bygone days Christianity did indeed work wonders; but today Christianity is dead, and you, who boast of being Catholics, what do you do? What works can you show which prove your Faith, and can claim to make us respect and acknowledge it?”

Thanks be to God for that taunt! It set Ozanam thinking deeply and praying much for guidance. So far he had tried to keep that vow of his: “I will consecrate my days to the service of that Truth that has given me peace,” and he had tried to keep it by what seemed to him the obvious way-viz., that of argument in its defence. Results, however, were disappointing.

From out of all his cogitation and prayer there soon arose in his mind the conviction that, though argument must still be one weapon, there was need of another and more appealing one. As he pondered, there came before his mind the scene in far distant days when St. John the Baptist, from his prison, sent messengers to ask Christ the question: “Art Thou He that is to come, or look we for another?” The answer given by Our Lord seemed to him to fit exactly the circumstances in which he and his young companions were placed. Christ could have answered simply: “Yes, I am the Messiah!” But He preferred to appeal to His works. “Go, and I tell John,” said He, “what you have heard and seen the blind see, the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead rise again, and the poor have the Gospel preached to them.”

Ozanam tells us all this himself. In a letter to a friend he wrote: “They were right-the taunt was but too well merited. Then it was that we said to one another: Let us to the front! Let our deeds be in accordance with our words!

“But what were we to do? What could we do to prove ourselves real Catholics, except that which pleases God most—viz., succour our neighbour, as Jesus Christ did, and place our Faith under the safeguard of charity.”

Immediately, seven of these young men, with Monsieur Bailly, who was much older than they, began to discuss a scheme for helping the poor in their homes.

THUS BEGAN THE ST. VINCENT DE PAUL SOCIETY

The first conference-as each branch of the society is called-was composed of eight, whose names should never be forgotten. They are: Frederick Ozanam, Paul Lamache, Jules Devaux, Francois Lallie, Auguste le Taillandier, Felix Clavé, Monsieur Bailly, and another about whose name there has been much discussion. A great friend of the society, and one who has read everything he could find, about the work it has done and is doing, tells us that the eighth member at the first meeting of that first little conference later became a priest, and founded the institute known as the Brothers of Charity. His name was Pierre Triest.

Having paid this small tribute of affectionate remembrance to those eight, whose work has spread so far since that eventful day about 100 years ago, let us return to our reflections on Ozanam.

He had vowed to serve Truth all his days. He had tried argument. The results disappointed him. Still bent on serving Truth, he cast about for another way, whilst, of course, never losing sight of the power of well-informed and wellmarshalled argument. The other way he found in charity to the poor, especially in their homes. Straightway he began to employ that method, and the result is the St. Vincent de Paul Society as we see it today. It represents “Service to Truth, by Service to Works of Charity.”

(B) HOW THE SOCIETY STANDS NOW, AFTER 100 YEARS

Wonderful are the ways of God! The Holy Spirit Himself, inspiring St. Paul, has given us that memorable rhapsody: “0 the depth of the riches of the wisdom and of the knowledge of God! How incomprehensible are His judgments, and how unsearchable His ways! For, who hath known the mind of the Lord? Or, who hath been His counsellor? Or, who hath first given to Him, and recompense shall be made him?

“For, of Him, and by Him, and in Him are all things. To Him be glory for ever and ever. Amen!” The events we have related and the consequences of them in the world today amply justify us for using the glorious words in connection with this society. A mere boy is tried by temptations against Faith. He issues from them in peace, and then vows to spend his life in serving the sacred cause of Truth. A few young men, just out of their teens, become fired with his enthusiasm, precisely because they find themselves in a set of circumstances which were none of their making. They meet to discuss what they can do to meet the need they see in their own immediate surroundings. How could they dream that out of their poor, puny efforts would grow a mighty, world-wide organisation, and that organisation the very one seemingly best calculated to meet the needs of religion, not for the moment only, but for the days that were to come, long after they themselves would have died-not for their immediate surroundings only, but for all the world!

We are not so surprised, when we see a priest become the founder of a religious institute, and that institute gradually develop into a big organisation, although, even in the case where that has happened, as it so often has, the original founder was always humble enough to be content to try to meet the need he saw just at his hand, and, consequently, never, or seldom, foresaw the mighty development. He certainly might have wished for it; but he was content for the time being to be an instrument in the hand of God for the purpose that was present at the moment, St. Vincent de Paul himself certainly never thought his congregation of priests would spread all over the world; still less did he imagine that his Daughters of Charity would become so numerous and so world-famed.

No! Even the institutes that priests have founded were not foreseen usually in the minds of their founders, as destined to accomplish mighty works for ages long after the mortal life of those founders had ceased; but Ozanam and his companions were not priests, but laymen, and very young and inexperienced ones, too; they planned but for the evils they saw in their own day. Yet, what do we find? A year or two ago, the centenary of the Society of St. Vincent de Paul was celebrated allover the world, and the following astounding figures will answer the question: “What do we find today?”

The figures given on that occasion were certainly astounding. The number of Conferences (which is the name used to describe what we usually call “Branches”) is no less than 12,000 throughout the world, and of these there are about 350 in our own country, Australia.”

The number of members, counting both active and honorary members together, is nearly a quarter of a million throughout the world, and of these there are nearly 7000 in Australia.

As for the amount of money dispersed in various forms of charity, it is hardly possible to say what that is throughout the world, but that, it must be very large is clear from the fact that, in Australia alone, it amounted to about £38,000 for the year immediately preceding the centenary. Where that great sum is derived from each year we shall see later in this paper, when we come to appeal for more, and yet more.

(C) NOW, WHAT WORKS DO THESE MEN DO?

In answer to this, it is necessary to remind readers of what has been already said, when speaking of the origin of this society.

The distinctive work that Ozanam and his companions had in view, when they began this exercise of charity, was the visitation of, and assisting of the poor in their own homes.

Not long before he died, the late Superior-General of the Vincentian Fathers addressed a Circular Letter to all his priests scattered through the world. In that letter, he drew attention to the approaching celebration of the centenary of the St. Vincent de Paul Society.

(The writer would wish to insert a little explanation here. He is himself a Vincentian Father, and he feels that, because of that, and because of so much reference to St. Vincent in these pages, the impression might be created in the minds of some that he is claiming the society of which we are treating as having been founded by the saint, He is doing no such thing. It would be absurd to do so, seeing that St. Vincent lived 300 years ago, while this society is in existence only 100 years. No! This society is not the peculiar possession of the Vincentian Fathers. Every priest, whether secular or regular, should be deeply interested in it; but, naturally, Vincentians feel a special claim on their interest, seeing that, when Ozanam and his companions began the work, and looked round for a patron, a guide, and a name, they selected St. Vincent de Paul, and drank deep of his inspiration, because of his world-wide fame as an Apostle of Charity.)

With this explanation, let us resume. The late SuperiorGeneral wrote: “Frederick Ozanam, Christian with all the strength of his being, renowned and honoured Professor of the University of Paris, realised that the “better part” for Christian zeal is love for the poor-love for the chosen ones of Our Saviour. Like St. Vincent, he realised that the great means for winning souls is corporal assistance. Ever like St. Vincent, he wished that a member of the Conference, one who visits the poor, should be himself the first beneficiary of his own charity. Consequently, he placed under the protection of Charity for the Poor, the Faith, the spiritual life, the holiness, of those who would come to join the Society of the Conferences.

“This society, then, is a branch of the great tree of Charity, whose life-giving sap is drawn from the Heart of Our Lord, passing en route through the heart of St. Vincent.”

Yes! Charity for the Poor, and especially by visiting them in their own homes. That was the original idea, and, though many works have been added in the course of time, visitation of the poor remains, and ever will remain, the distinctive work of the society.

Ozanam was particularly insistent on this, after the little society had had some experience in the work. We said above that, in the design of God, this society seems to be the very best means calculated to meet the needs of the times. Why so? Because, in the days that have passed since Ozanam lived and died, religion, outside the Catholic fold, has lost much of its hold on the world. At least dogmatic religion has done so, and, in its place, has arisen a creed-less religion that recognises no good save in the pursuit of works for the reduction of the gap between the very rich and the very poor. In other words, it is areligion whose one purpose is the more even distribution of the world’s wealth. Very good, as far as it goes, but it is a religion that glorifies the claim of humanity and makes light of the claims of God, and it forgets that, in the old Catholic religion, there was all the necessary machinery for uplifting man’s temporal condition, while not failing to give God His proper place, by firm adhesion to the creed, which His Own Son taught during His life on earth, as being necessary for salvation: “Go, teach all nations-all things whatsoever I have commanded you,” and “He that believeth not shall be condemned.” This society is essentially a Catholic society, and, therefore, has all the belief God commands, whilst by its work for the poor, it does all that the greatest humanitarian can demand. In this way, it seems divinely destined to meet the special need of our times, and will, under God, do much to bring mankind back from the maze into which it has wandered.

The charitable work for the poor needs a study of the great social question, if it is to be done in an enlightened way, and with best results. Ozanam saw in visits to the homes of the poor a splendid way of teaching this to the Brothers of the Conferences. He says: “The knowledge of social well-being and of reform is to be learned, not from books, not from the public platform, but in climbing the stairs to the poor man’s garret, sitting by his bedside, feeling the same cold that pierces him, sharing the secret of his lonely heart and troubled mind. When the conditions of the poor have been examined-in school, at work, in hospital, in the city, in the country-everywhere, where God has placed them, it is then and only then we know the elements of that formidable problem, that we begin to grasp it, and may hope to solve it.”

Visitation, then, with a view of relieving, especially in the homes of the poor. That is the distinctive work undertaken by the St. Vincent de Paul men. They do not, however, stop there. Their “Manual,” in its second rule distinctly states: “No work of charity should be regarded as foreign to, the Society.” Hence, their works are many and varied. Each country, in which they are established has its own particular needs; indeed, in the same country, there often arise different needs in different parts. It would be impossible to give a list here of all they undertake; it will suffice for the general purpose if we indicate their activities in New South Wales, within which this paper is written.

We find there three institutions under their care-viz., the Home for Orphan or Destitute Boys at Westmead, the Home for Abandoned and Unwanted Babies at St. Anthony’s, Croydon, and the Seamen’s Institute.

We find also that they visit sick men in hospitals; they visit prisoners in the jails and endeavour to look after them when released; they look after boys on probation from the Children’s Court; they collect eggs for hospitals and for the old people of the Home for the Aged Poor under the Little Sisters of the Poor. They do what they can for the blind, though we have not as yet a Home of our own for them; they distribute good reading matter wherever they can: they form Boys” Guilds and foster the Boy Scout Movement: they pay school fees for poor children in Catholic schools; they form catechism classes in remote districts, where there are no Catholic religious to do the work; they secure free medical attention for the sick poor; they secure Old Age and Invalid Pensions; they provide periodical outings for the children in our Catholic orphanages; they clean up cemeteries and keep them in order.

Yet many other works they do that may seem to be of minor importance, but which are all productive of good. Such are the following:-they call at State Homes on Sunday mornings and take Catholic children to Mass; they cut and trim the hair of male inmates at Orphanages and the Home for the Aged; and, in country districts, they undertake to supply the nuns with firewood, especially during the winter months.

Many of these works require funds. Of this we shall speak later. Suffice it to say here that, whenever funds are required for any of the above works, they are drawn from whatever money the Conference has as a result of the contributions of charitable people. There is, however, one great work, which they maintain entirely by a small contribution from the members themselves, and that is, the maintaining of bursaries for education of priests-the society’s funds are not used for that purpose.

Finally, they place themselves unreservedly at the beck and call of the Parish Priests, to do whatever they can to help in parochial works, holding themselves entirely under his authority.

It will be seen that many of the works are concerned about the needs of the body, whilst others have for their direct purpose the soul’s requirements, though, even where they care for the body, they have always the soul in view. That was what Monsieur Bailly meant, when he said to the young members of the first Conference: “If you really want to serve the poor and yourselves, direct your charity to moral and spiritual, rather than to material improvement. Do not let it be a mere doling out of alms.”

Concluding this section, let us ever remember that Christ’s charity was universal. In the light of that, the St. Vincent de Paul men, seeking as they do to imitate the Divine Model, do not question the religious belief of those who seek their aid. Their very motto is: “The title of the poor to our commiseration is their poverty itself. We must not ask to what party or sect they belong.”

Ozanam was very emphatic about this. On one occasion, when a minister of one of the non-Catholic sects had collected some alms, he entrusted it to Ozanam for distribution, owing to the admiration he had conceived for the young society. At the next meeting of the Conference of that locality, a debate arose as to how the help should be applied. Some of the members were of opinion that it should be applied first to the Catholic poor, and, if anything remained, that should then be given to Protestants in need. Ozanam was very annoyed, and he cried out vehemently: “Gentlemen, if it be not thoroughly understood that we succour the poor, quite irrespective of class or creed, I will at once return to the Protestants the alms they have entrusted to us, and I shall say to them: “Take it back; we are not worthy of your confidence.”

It is important to remember this, as we shall need it when we come to consider why we should give particular attention to the needs of this society in our donations.

(D) WHENCE COME THE FUNDS OF THE SOCIETY?

Principally from the generosity of our Catholic people.

It might easily be thought by those who are not Catholics that the members of the St. Vincent de Paul Society, are wealthy men, who finance this wonderful work They know little, or nothing, about any of our Catholic activities. If they trouble to enquire at all, they find that, in many of our parishes, there are 10, 20, 30 men who devote a good deal of their time to the society. After all, 30 or 40 men out of the total number in a parish is very small, and non-Catholics can be pardoned for not knowing whence the funds do come. Catholics, of course, do know. They see these members of the society in their daily lives, and they know them to be for the most part workingmen, using the term “working” in a wide sense. At any rate, wealthy men are few amongst them, not that there is any reason why a wealthy Catholic should not be a member, but the fact is that Catholics, as a whole, do not belong to the well-to-do class.

The consequence of this is that the members could not finance the works of the society, even if they wished to do so. Indeed, it would not be desirable that such should be the case, because that would limit this amazing charity to the few, whereas the whole purpose is better served where many share in it-the multitude giving what it can, and the members of the society doing the active work of dispensing. What makes the goodness of these men shine out most conspicuously is that they not only do the work, sacrificing much of their leisure time to it, but they contribute as far as they can to swell the funds which they, themselves disburse. In addition to adding their mite when any appeal is made to the Catholic people in the churches, and remembering the Poor Box often during the year, they actually have a secret collection at their weekly meetings to which all give whatever they can afford, and the way in which that collection is taken up is such that no one knows what his neighbour gives. There is no room for ostentation on the part of those who can afford more, nor for embarrassment on the part of those who can afford less. It is not, then, from the members themselves that the large sums come which keep this stupendous movement of charity going.

Whence come they? We have already said -from the generosity of the Catholic people, principally. Some few, who are not Catholics, have a genuine appreciation of the work, and make donations from time to time; but it is from periodic appeals in the churches and from the Poor Box, which is to be found near the door of every one of our churches, that the bulk of the money comes.

Some Catholics make donations in money or in kind sometimes, and, on all-too-rare occasions, we hear of bequests by Will.

There, then, are the sources from which are derived the means to help the poor and keep up the institutions and special works fathered by the society-(a) Periodic appeals in our churches; (b) the Poor Box; (c) occasional donations in money or kind; and (d) very occasional bequests. Let us say a little word about each of these in turn:—(1) PERIODIC APPEALS IN OUR CHURCHES.

Wherever there is a Conference, or branch, in a parish it is almost the universal practice to get some preacher to make an appeal at all the Masses on some one Sunday in the year. Occasionally, there may be another such appeal made should the demand on the funds be so great as to leave the members crippled in their charitable activities.

The story of these appeals is one that reflects infinite credit usually on our people. Many of them do their very best on these occasions, realising that, in giving to the society, they are really giving to Christ Himself. This being so, why is this paper written? For four reasons. The first is to congratulate those who really do their best, especially if, in order to do so, it means that they have made sacrifices. The second is to urge these same people to ever keep their motive pure, giving what they do give out of pure love of God and of their fellow-man, without seeking for any commendation in consequence. The third is to bring the matter before the minds of those of our Catholic people who either give nothing or who do not give as much as they can. The fourth, and last, is to tell all our Catholics, and as many others as wish to learn, what a wonderfully providential thing it is that there exists a society like this, and to let them know something about it, which, perhaps, previously they did not know.

With regard to this last point, it is well to remember that advertisement is entirely against the spirit of this organisation. The Master Himself said: “Let not thy left hand know what thy right hand doth,” and the St. Vincent de Paul man is trained to ever keep that in his mind. There is no boasting, no loud fanfare of trumpets, about what is done, and, indeed, it is with some trepidation that the writer has penned these lines; but, after all, this is not advertisement- it is but letting people know that the society exists, what are its aims, what spirit actuates it, and, if some reference has been made to the amazing progress that has been made, it is not in any spirit of boasting, or of advertisement, but simply that all may recognise that “the finger of God is here.” No purely human calculation could have been solely responsible for it.

(2) THE POOR BOX

It stands at the door of all our Catholic churches. To the eye of faith, it is Christ’s right hand extended on behalf of His poor. What it signifies to the worldling does not matter.

Our Catholic people, as a whole, look at it with faith’s eye, and, conse quently, it echoes to the sound of their humble coins all through the year, and the multitude of small contributions amounts to a considerable sum-each contribution a donation to Jesus Christ, be it ever so humble. We stand amazed at all the good that is made possible through its agency, and is made actual by the devotion of the St Vincent de Paul men; but the writer would ask: “Are all as mindful of it, as they should be? Do parents teach their children the valuable lessons that can be learned from it.” There is no doubt that this is a selfish age. Enjoyment is the god of many, all too many, and Catholics are not altogether free of guilt in the matter. There can equally be no doubt that, if parents were to teach their children to deny themselves even a small pleasure to give a proportion of their little means of self-gratification to Christ in the person of the poor, results would be much greater in the way of possible good, a race of children would, grow up who would be more unselfish in their homes, and, when manhood and womanhood came to them, they would be much more considerate of their less fortunate brethren. The Church would be the gainer through their charity; the cause of Christ would be advanced, and outsiders would be led to greater admiration, the forerunner of more conversions to the Faith. Catholics! Love the Poor Box in your church! You may not be able to give much when periodic appeals are made, but, if you frequently spare a little for the Poor Box and teach your children to do the same, you will be the gainer, the Church will advance, and many poor will know better days.

(3) DONATIONS, IN MONEY OR IN KIND

We have already said that such donations are given; but are they anything like as frequent as they might easily be without much sacrifice? The writer cannot but feel that there are times when people forget, and need to be reminded.

Sometimes, an unexpected success comes the way of one or other of our people, the result of which is that they are somewhat the richer, on rare occasions very much the richer. They have reason to be very grateful, and no doubt the are; but, do they think of making a donation then to any one of our Catholic charities, in order to prove their gratitude. He would not ask that the St. Vincent de Paul Society and its works should be considered in preference to other charities, but he would ask that it be considered sometimes.

With regard to donations in kind, he had often felt that all the people need is guidance from their leaders. He knows of one Conference which obtains from all the bakers of the surrounding district-non-Catholic as well as Catholics-all the bread they have over on a Saturday night, and distributes it on Sundays to poor families. He knows of another Conference which appealed for cast-off clothing, and got enough from the people to supply for the time not only their own particular claims, but those of one or two contiguous Conferences. The district in question was a rather well-to-do district, and there were, as usual, people who said there was no need of a St. Vincent de Paul branch in that parish.

That raises a big question. The writer feels that there ought to be such a Conference in every parish, quite irrespective of whether there are poor families or poor individuals there or not. He feels that, first of all, the number of parishes where there are no poor at all is very few. Moreover, he feels that, even where there are no poor, the rich people should be given the opportunity to help less fortunate parishes, and to back up the special works of the society. Finally, he feels that, seeing that the main aim of the society is “the sanctification of its members through works of charity for the poor,” it cannot but be good for any parish to have even a small body of men aiming at more than usual holiness in this way-it must bring blessing on the other works of that parish.

In general, it seems fair to say that donations, in money or in kind, should be more frequent than they are, and that they would be so if more direction were given to the ordinary people. They seek but to be guided; they are willing to follow any good lead.

(4) BEQUESTS, BY WILL

Sometimes, but all too rarely, we hear or read of Catholics who have remembered the poor in their wills. Here, again, we have no right to ask, nor do we ask, that the St. Vincent de Paul Society should be remembered more than other charities. We are pleased no matter what Catholic charities are helped. What we deplore is that so many Catholics who have this world’s goods die and leave all to their families.

Let us examine why some are richer than others and some poorer. In ultimate analysis, it will be found that God has been exceptionally good to some, and less so to others, for reasons best known to Himself.

A man may say: “I have worked hard for what I have, and it is mine to do with it what I wish.” The answer to that is plain: “You have worked hard, and have shown great ability and perseverance; but others have worked as hard as you have done, and with equal ability and perseverance, and yet they have not had success to the extent that you have. The fact is, the opportunity came your way and it didn’t come theirs. Now who gave the opportunity? Wasn’t it God? Therefore, if you have more, it is because God, for His own wise reasons, was good to you in a way that He was not to them.

Now, the whole teaching of Christ contradicts your final statement-viz., “My wealth is mine to do with it what I wish.” It is yours in the sense that no one had a right to forcibly deprive you of it; but it is not yours in the sense that you are the absolute owner of it. It is God Who owns it, and you are a steward under Him to use it well. You are entitled to make reasonable provision for your dependents, but, beyond that, you have a duty to your less-favoured brethren. You will notice, if you are observant, that, in the Parable of the Rich Man and Lazarus, the former was condemned, not because of any positive cruelty to the latter, but simply because he neglected to succour him. There can be little doubt that many of the wills of wealthy people are displeasing to God, and they often bring their own punishment even in this life- we have seen many children ruined because of the wealth they inherited. It led them into fast ways, and temporal and spiritual ruin followed.

Wealthy Catholics should remember our Catholic charities, and, amongst these, we put forward the claims of the St. Vincent de Paul Society.

(E) NOW, WHY SHOULD THIS SOCIETY BE CONSIDERED

In this question we include all four sources of revenue -viz., periodic appeals, the poor box, donations in money or in kind, and bequests by will. Why should we take these into consideration, each according to our respective means?

This is really the reason why all the preceding pages have been written. The design was to bring the claims of this society prominently forward. We repeat that there is no desire on the part of the writer, nor would the St. Vincent de Paul men thank him if he had any desire, to take away one particle, of the interest that different Catholics show in different charitable institutions. Keep up that interest by all means. After all, you do the duty that Christ imposes if you are mindful of the poor under any of the forms of poverty; but there are not a few who seem to take interest in none. If this paper has the effect of moving even some to begin to do their duty in the way of helping any Catholic charity, the writer will be well rewarded: if it moves some to interest themselves in the St. Vincent de Paul Society, he will be pleased, because their work is dear to him, and he sees great possibilities for the Church in it.

When, then, the reasons that follow are examined, it will be found that much that is contained in them might easily be applied to any of our charitable works; but it will also be found that there are some considerations that have special reference to this Society.

(1) FIRST, THEN, IT IS A SAFE WAY OF GIVING TO THE POOR. THIS APPEARS IN TWO WAYS-VIZ., (A) THAT WHAT IS GIVEN WILL GO TO DESERVING CASES, AND (B) THAT PRACTICALLY ALL WE GIVE REACHES THE POOR

(a) Deserving cases:-When we give charity to people we do not know we are very apt to be victimised. Many of these people are very skilful in deception-they can tell a plausible tale that would move the heart of a stone.

Now, the men of the society are men of the world. They move about amongst other men, and they soon get to know the wants of their own district. They learn what are genuine cases and what are not. Moreover, they do not usually give money. They give an order for the necessary food, or clothing, or medicines, and it is not within the compass of each individual member to use the funds of the society as he wishes. A meeting is held every week at which all cases are discussed. If there is urgency so that the weekly meeting cannot be waited for, it is usually the president or the secretary who has the right to act, and, even in that case, they must report to the next meeting. In this way mistakes are reduced to a minimum.

(b) All our money reaches the poor, that is to say, it reaches Christ. There have been scandalous examples in recent times where a great deal of public money was collected for some charitable or philanthropic purpose and only a small fraction of that money reached the goal for which it was intended. The rest was found to have been swallowed up in munificent salaries to the organisers, if not in other less deserving ways.

It is not so with any money entrusted to the St. Vincent de Paul Society. It is their proud boast that they have not one single salaried officer in all their world-wide organisation. This must, of course, be properly understood. Such a work as theirs cannot be carried on without a great deal of correspondence, and it may be necessary for the Central Council to employ typists, etc. It may be that some of these belong to the society, but the contention is that no money is paid to anyone to do the work of the society as a member.

Consequently, practically all that is given by the people reaches the object for which it was given. Necessary expenses alone are subtracted.

This argument, of course, applies with equal force to all our charitable institutions. Most of these are conducted by religious, who work without salary and purely for the love of God. Consequently, there is nothing in this argument of safety that gives the society any special claim, but it does give to it an equal claim.

There rises before the imagination a picture in which there are three outstanding figures. First of all, at one end of the picture stands a poor person, and, as you gaze on him with eyes of faith, there gradually takes place a transformation scene, such as was common on the old legitimate stage-gradually the poor person fades from sight, and in his place stands the figure of Christ, with hand outstretched to receive. At the other end of the picture there stands a Catholic person charitably disposed, with hand outstretched to give. In between stands the St. Vincent de Paul Society, receiving from the donor and passing on his gift to the poor person, that is, to Christ Himself, because the words of His assurance come back to memory: “As long as you did it to one of these, my least brethren, you did it to Me,”

(2) The second reason for considering the claims of this society is that, by giving to it, you give to a wonderful variety of charitable works, some of which are not provided for in all our other activities. There is no need to labour this here; turning back a few pages, the reader can refresh his memory with regard to the objects the members of the Conferences strive to meet, and the extremely elastic nature of the rule, which says: “No work of charity should be regarded as foreign to the Society,” gives assurance than any new need that arises will be met, as far as it will be possible.

The beauty of the works, too, must commend them to all, and, when it is borne in mind, as it should ever be, that the material assistance given is not an end but the means-a means -viz., to reach the soul, and bring back Catholics to the practice of their Faith or confirm them in it, and, in the case of non-Catholics, to reveal to them the beauty of the Catholic Faith in practice, and so break down the walls of prejudice and open the way to entry into the light, a new value is given to the activities of the society.

Much of what has been said in this short expansion of this reason applies to our other Catholic charities, or to some of them; but the fact that most of the work of the St. Vincent de Paul man is done out in the world, and not within the enclosure of an institute, means that there is a greater opportunity for good here.

(3) The third reason is the one on which the writer I would wish to lay most stress. It is this: This movement deserves special consideration, because it is carried on by laymen. Why should that make any special appeal? Is it that, because it is laymen who do this work, that that should mean greater efficiency than if it were done by Priests, Brothers, or Nuns? Certainly not; but we are all anxious that the Faith should spread amongst “the other sheep that are not in the fold of the Church,” and, hence, we are anxious that the beneficent work of that Church should come prominently before the gaze of the world, not for the sake of human applause, but because nothing appeals more to those who are hostile than to see Christ’s charity in action

It is hard to understand why, for instance, the manner in which our people flock to church in the early hours of Sunday morning, while the churches of other people are silent and empty, does not make non-Catholics pause and consider that there must be some extraordinary vital force in the Catholic religion which bespeaks Divine action. The fact is that many people never see these things. They are in bed when our people are flocking to church.

It is the same, in another way and for another reason, in the works of our religious institutes. Outsiders cannot but see these institutions dotted all over the country and they cannot but know that wonderful work is done in them; but they look upon all religious as professionals, simply doing the work that is assigned to them, and many of them hate the sight of a religious dress; but when they see laymen giving up their leisure hours to work for Christ, without the slightest human reward, and without questioning the creed of those they help, they are compelled to take notice, and we know of many instances where people have been profoundly impressed by the self-sacrifice of the St. Vincent de Paul man, and, in consequence, there have been not a few conversions, whilst, in many other cases, minds have been rendered less hostile to the teachings of the Church that has produced such a society.

When, therefore, more of our people help to swell the funds, the works that will be possible will be increased, and the charitable spirit of the Church will become more and more manifest to outsiders.

Moreover, to supply the society liberally with the means to do their work has an effect on the present members themselves, encouraging them to persevere in spite of the weariness and disappointments that must come their way. Other men, too, will be likely to be drawn into the ranks and become active workers for the cause, when they shall see the increased good that will result from more means to extend the work.

Finally, it has ever to be borne in mind that the real end of membership in the society is “the sanctification of the members.” The actual amount of charitable work accomplished is not the real test of success in this matter. The test is- are the members becoming holier men?

With such an object constantly kept before them, it must naturally follow that there is in each parish, where a Branch or Conference exists, a body of men aiming at a high degree of Catholic life, and helping towards that end by mutual good-example.

Now, the more numerous men like these become, the greater must be the blessing from God on the other works of the Church, and the greater must be the influence for moral good of such men scattered through the community. It is Catholic Action in its best form.

CONCLUSION

This has been a long disquisition, and it would not be surprising if much that was said in the beginning, or middle, of this paper may be lost sight of in the multitude of suggestions made.

It may, then, be useful to summarise it all. The paper is divided into two sections-viz.:

(1) Why we should help the poor at all, and

(2) Why we should help the St. Vincent de Paul Society.

The first question-viz., “Why should we help the poor?” is answered by giving two general groups of reasons-viz., purely natural ones and supernatural ones.

The natural ones are:-(a) The poor are our fellow human beings, and (b) We may be poor some day ourselves and need the help of others.

The supernatural ones are:-(1) God’s command, with the consequence of His punishment for disobedience, and (2) The rewards, for Time and Eternity, which He so generously promises.

The second question-viz., “Why should we help the St. Vincent de Paul Society?”-is answered by a series of talks on different phases of that movement. We treated of:—(a) The Story of the origin of the society;

(b) How the society stands after 100 years;

(c) The works undertaken by its members;

(d) The sources from which come their funds, with a few remarks on each of the four-viz., periodic appeals in the churches, the poor box, donations in money or in kind, and bequests by will.

All this led up to the final sub-section, which deals with the vital question-the very purpose for which this paper was penned-viz.:—(e) Why we should consider this society when we are debating in our minds the distribution of what money we can spare amongst the numerous charitable works sponsored by the Church. We found these reasons to be:—(1) It is a safe way of investing, because (a) only deserving cases will be helped; and (b) practically all we give will reach Christ, in the person of His poor. Overhead expenses are practically nil.

(2) The works are so varied and so beautiful, and some of them are not done by any other agency in the Church in our midst.

(3) The last reason, and the most impelling one in the mind of the writer, is-that this work is done by Catholic laymen, who mingle with the people of the world, and, thus, bring prominently before their eyes the beneficent charity of the Church, so that it seems fair to assume that this influence may be to some extent more effective than that which is wielded by professional religious.

If even a little good is done by this paper, the writer has all the reward he seeks. Members of the society reading it can find, if they try, reminders of what should be the spirit actuating them in all they do. The general Catholic body reading it, may be urged to greater fidelity in co-operation, if they have already tried to be faithful, or to become co-operators, either by joining up or by helping in a financial way, if they have not already done so.

All, without exception, should ever keep in mind those emphatic words of Our Lord: “Amen, I say to you, as long as you did it not to one of these least, neither did you do it to Me-therefore, depart from Me, you cursed!” and those consoling words that are the counterpart of this denunciation: “Amen, I say to you, as long as you did it to one of these, My least brethren, you did it to Me-therefore, come, yeblessed of My Father!”

Nihil obstat:

J. DONOVAN,

Censor Theol. Deputatus.

Imprimatur:

@ D. MANNIX,

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis.

15/11/1934 ********

The Popes

INDEX

AUTHORITIES

The authorities for the lists of the early Popes are as follows

ST IRENAEUS (BISHOP OF LYONS IN THE FIRST HALF OF THE SECOND CENTURY) GIVES THE NAMES, BUT NOT THE LENGTHS OF THE REIGNS, UP TO ST ELEUTHERIUS

Eusebius (the historian, to whom we owe the greater part of our knowledge of the first three centuries, of the

Church) gives both names and dates up to St Marcellinus.

An unknown Chronologist gives a list up to Liberius.

St Jerome includes St Damasus, of whom he was the secretary.

The “Liber Pontificalis” continues the Chronologist’s list up to the end of the Middle Ages (Martin V) but is sometimes inaccurate as to the dates of events.

The dates of the earliest Popes, up to St Victor I, are very uncertain. After that time they are tolerably reliable. The compiler is indebted to Ecclesia (Blond et Gay, Paris) for much valuable information.

1. -St Peter. From the Gospel we learn that Our Lord placed him over the whole Church. The Acts give the events of his ministry in Palestine. He passed some time in Antioch in Syria. It is also probable that he preached the Gospel in the greater part of what we now call Asia Minor (Bithynia and Pontus, Galatia, Cappadocia and the provinces on the west coast). It is historically certain that he came to Rome. The House of Hermes, excavated on the Via Appia in 1915, contains many inscriptions showing that he used the house for his ministry. He was put to death in Rome under Nero (?64 or 67).

2. -St Linus (67–79) ? or 65–76. He is mentioned in the Canon of the Mass next to the Apostles, and may be the disciple of whom St Paul- writing to St Timothy from Rome-makes mention (II Timothy iv. 21).

3.—St Cletus (or Anacletus) (79–91)? or 77–88. St Jerome calls him sometimes by one name, sometimes by the other. A few old documents, by mistake, took them for two separate Popes.

4.-St Clement (92–101)? Or 88–97. A celebrated Epistle of his is still extant. Its date may be put at about 96, and it is one of the oldest evidences for the Primacy of the Roman See.

5.-St Evaristus (101–109) or 98–106.

6.-St Alexander I (109–116) or 106–115.

7.-St Sixtus I (117–126) ? or 116–126.

8.-St Telesphorus (126–136). Like all his predecessors he was, according to both St Irenaeus and Eusebius, a martyr.

9.-ST HYGINUS (137–141).

10.-ST PIUS I (141–155).

According to the “Fragment of Muratori,” and the “Liber Pontificalis,” this Pope was the brother of Hermes the writer, author of “The Shepherd.” During this reign, Gnosticism (a complicated heresy which considered matter as evil) gave trouble to the church. St Justin, martyr, an important writer, flourished.

11.-St Anicetus (155–166). Eusebius, quoting St Irenaeus, says that St Polycarp (disciple of St John the Evangelist) came to Rome-probably in 154-to ask for a settlement as to the date of Easter. The question could not then be settled.

12.-ST SOTER (166–175).

Eusebius, quoting Denys of Corinth, makes this Pope author of an Epistle to the Corinthians.

13.—St Eleutherius (175–189) was visited, about 177, by St Irenaeus, later Bishop of Lyons.

14.-St Victor I (189–199) emphatically affirmed the Primacy of the Roman See, notably in the question of the date of Easter. He opposed the Gnostic (see No. 10) and Monarchian heresies (the last a heresy about the Blessed Trinity).

15.-St Zephyrinus (199–217) also opposed the Monarchian heresy, and condemned the Montanists-a revivalist movement that developed into a sect apart.

16.-St Calixtus I (217–222). As a deacon he was administrator of the catacomb on the Appian Way which bears his name. As Pope he greatly modified the severe penitential discipline in use in the first age of the Church. For this Tertullian and Hippolytus expostulated violently with him and even created a schism.

17. -St Urban I (222–230).

18.-St Pontian (230–235) approved of the condemnation of Origen by Demetrius, Bishop of Alexandria. This Pope was banished to Sardinia, and there died of the ill-treatment he received.

19.-St Anterus (21 Nov., 235–3 Jan., 236). His tomb was discovered by de Rossi in 1854, in the catacomb of St Calixtus, as well as those of SS Fabian, Lucius, and Eutychian (Papal crypt).—20—St. Fabian (236–250) divided the City into seven deaconries, organised the administration of the catacombs, and the distribution of alms to the poor. He was martyred under Decius, 20 Jan., 250.

21.-St Cornelius (April, 251- 253). opposed the schism of the rigorist Novatian.

22.-St Lucius I (25 June, 253–5 March, 254) continued to show the same leniency as his predecessor and St Cyprian had shown towards those who had sacrificed to idols but repented, a leniency contrasted with the severity of Novatian.

23.-St Stephen I (254–2 Aug., 257) opposed with vigour the error of those who would rebaptise converted heretics, and upheld the Roman doctrine against St Cyprian and the bishops of Asia Minor.

24.-St Sixtus II (31 Aug., 257–6 Aug., 258) was reconciled to St Cyprian. St Sixtus was martyred with his deacons, Felicissimus and Agapitus, some days before the deacon St Lawrence.

25.-St Dionysius (22 July, 259–26 Dec., 268) condemned Sabellianism (heresy about the Blessed Trinity).

26.-St Felix I (269–274) approved of the condemnation of Paul of Samosata, pronounced by the synod of Antioch.

27.-St Eutychian (275-?283).

28.-St Caius (? 17 Dec., 283–22nd April, 296).

29.-St Marcellinus (30 June, 296–26 April, or 25 Oct., 304).

30—St Marcellus 1 (308–16 Jan., 309), reorganised the see, rebuilding the churches destroyed in the persecution.

31.-St Eusebius (18 April- 17 Aug., 310).

32—St Melchiades (2 July, 311–11 Jan., 314) saw the victory of Constantine over Maxentius, and the “Edict of Milan,” giving liberty to the Church. He held a synod in Rome against the Donatists (schismatics who afterwards became heretics).

33.-St Sylvester I (314–335) erected the basilicas of St Peter (Vatican) and St John (Lateran). He delegated two Roman priests to represent him at the Council of Nicea.

34.-St Mark (18 Jan.-? Oct., 336) built two basilicas in Rome-St Mark and St Balbina.

35.-St Julius I (6 Feb., 337- 12 April, 352). A Pope who united firmness with benevolence. He defended St Athanasius against the Arians and semiArians, held a synod in Rome against Arianism (340–41), arranged the meeting of the Council of Sardica (Sofia) (342), and erected in Rome the basilica of the 12 Apostles. (Basilica Juliana).

36.-Liberius (17 May, 352–24 Sept., 366) was treated with great harshness by the emperor Constans for his refusal to condemn St Athanasius and underwent a long exile in Berea, during which the emperor set up an anti-pope, “Felix.” Liberius has been severely judged for signing a statement of faith that could be given a heretical meaning.

37.-St Damasus I (Oct., 366- 11 Dec., 384) condemned the Apollinarists (heresy on the Incarnation), Macedoniaus (heresy on the Holy Ghost) (synods 368, 369), fixed the Canon of Scripture (374), and charged his learned secretary, St Jerome, to revise the translation of the Bible.

38.-St Siricius (17 Dec., 384- 26 Nov., 399) acted vigorously as the chief pastor of the Church. He is the author of a famous declaration of the Primacy of the Pope over the whole Church, contained in a letter of 10 Feb., 385, to Himerius of Tarragona. Through the Roman synod of 386 he forbade any episcopal consecration without the consent of the Holy See. He condemned Jovian in the synod of 392 (heresy on morals).

39.-St Anastasius I (399- 401).

40-St Innocent I (401- 12 March, 417) continued the ecclesiastical and liturgical organisation begun by St Siricius (celibacy of clergy, administration of sacraments, jurisdiction of provincial synods). His best-known decrees were those to St Victrice of Rouen, Exuperius of Toulouse, and to the Bishop of Gubbio.

41.-St Zozimus (18 March, 417–26 Dec., 418) condemned the Pelagians who had at first deceived him, and published his Epistola trazatoria against them.

42.-St Boniface (28 Dec., 418–4 Sept., 422) obtained the “withdrawal of an edict of Theodosius II, which placed Illyria under the authority of the Patriarch of Constantinople. The Balkans began to be an apple of discord between the Holy See and Constantinople- one of the causes which led to the schism.

43.-St Celostine I (Sept., 422-July, 432). In 429 he sent St Gerrnanus of Auxerre to Britain to oppose Pelagianism. He also sent St Palladius (431) to evangelise Ireland. St Patrick (432) was destined to exercise still greater influence there. St Celestine opposed Nestorianism (heresy on the Incarnation) in a Roman synod (430) and sent three legates to represent him at the Council of Ephesus (431). He addressed a letter refuting semi-Pelagianism to the Bishops of Gaul.

44.-St Sixtus III (31 July, 432–28 March, 440) was a great builder. He restored and richly decorated St Mary Major, built St Sabina on the Aventine, and St Lawrence-outside-the-Walls. He opposed Nestorius and the Pelagian Julian of Eclanum, and had to maintain his rights over Illyria against Proclus, Patriarch of Constantinople.

45.-St Leo I, the Great (29 Sept., 440–10 Nov., 461) was one of the great Popes of history and one of the most illustrious defenders of the Faith. He opposed the Pelagians and Manichaeans in Italy, the Priscillianists in Spain, the Monophysites in the East, against whom, in a famous letter, he set forth the dogma of the two natures in Our Lord. He dominated the Council of Chalcedon (451), maintained his rights in Illyria, and established a permanent legate at the court of Constantinople. He rejected the 28th article of the Council of Chalcedon, which gave second rank in the Church to the Patriarch of Constantinople. He is also famous for his courageous attitude at the time of the invasions of Attila and Genseric.

46.-St Hilary (461—28 Feb., 468) exercised his authority vigorously with regard to ecclesiastical discipline in Southern Gaul and Spain.

47.-St Simplicius (468–10 March, 483) interposed to put down the Monophysites in Alexandria, and resisted the attempt of the Patriarch of Constantinople to claim second rank in the Church.

48.-St Felix III (483–492) energetically opposed the Monophysites, denounced the Henoticon (a decree of union with heretics) inspired by Acacius, Patriarch of Constantinople, whom he excommunicated. This occasioned a schism for 35 years. St Felix encouraged the faithful in Africa, who were persecuted by Gunthamond, king of the Vandals. (This Pope should be called Felix II, because an antipope of this name, during the exile of Pope Liberius, has been counted in some lists by mistake).

49.-St Gelasius I (1 March, 492–21 Nov., 496). A great Pope, he upheld the authority of the Holy See against Acacius, was on good terms with Theodoric the Great, King of the Ostrogoths, opposed the Manichaeans and Pelagians, and put an end to the pagan festival of the Lupercalia.

50.-Anastasius II (496–498) congratulated Clovis on his conversion, opposed the schism of Acacius, and condemned Traducianism (heresy on creation).

51.—St Symmachus (22 Nov., 498–19 July, 514).

52.-St Hormisdas (20 July, 514–6 Aug., 523). The schism of Acacius (484–519) came to an end, the bishops of the East adopting the Confession of Faith, called the-Formula of Hormisdas, in which the Primacy of the Roman See is strongly set forth.

53.-St John I (13 Aug., 523–18 May, 526). Sent by Theodoric the Great to Constantinople, he crowned the Emperor Justin I. On his return he was thrown into prison by Theodoric (an Arian) in reprisal for measures against the Arians by Justin I. There he died. He is honoured as a martyr.

54.-St Felix IV (526–530), being consulted by St Caesarius of Arles on the subject of semiPelagianism, sent a doctrinal letter, which was proclaimed as the law of the Church at the Council of Orange (529). Felix IV nominated Boniface II as his successor.

55.-Boniface II (17 Sept., 530-Oct., 532) confirmed the decrees of the Council of Orange, thus giving them universal authority. He again maintained the rights of the Holy See over Illyria.

56.-John II (2 Nov., 532- 8 May, 535). He was Mercurius, priest of the parish of St Clement, and the first to change his name on becoming Pope, a custom which has since become general.

57. -St Agapitus 1 (535- 22 April, 536).

58.-St Silverius (536—? 538). After the taking of Rome by Belisarius he was arrested, owing to the intrigues of the ambitious Vigilius, and died in exile at a date which is not known. Vigilius had taken his place on 29 March, 537.

59.-VigiIius (538–7 June, 555). Having usurped the Papal throne by illegitimate means, Vigilius received universal recognition after the death of Silverius, and thus became really Pope. Contrary to the expectation of the Empress, to whom he owed his elevation, he contended for the Catholic Faith with Justinian. He passed eight years at Constantinople at the time of the dispute of the “Three Chapters,” finally confirmed the decrees of the Council of Con- stantinople (553) and died at Syracuse on his return.

60,-Pelagius I (555–561).

61-John III (17 July, 561- 13 July, 574).

62.-Benedict I (2 June, 575- 30 July, 579).

63.-Pelagius 11 (26 Nov., 579 -7 Feb., 590) had much to suffer from the Lombards. He protested against the title of “Universal Patriarch” being assumed by the Patriarch of Constantinople (John the Faster) and rejoiced in the conversion of the Visigoths of Spain.

64.- St Gregory I the Great (3 Sept., 590—11 March, 604). One of the greatest popes of history. He was born about 540 of an illustrious family, and was made Praetor of Rome, an office he abandoned to become a Benedictine monk. On his father’s death he gave his palace on the Coelian Hill to be the monastery of St Andrew (it is from this that two of our English Cardinals-Manning and Vaughan-received the title “of St Andrew and St Gregory on the Coelian Hill “). He became abbot, and Papal envoy to Constantinople. Being anxious for the conversion of the heathen and especially interested in England, he obtained leave to work there himself, and even set out, but the clamour of the people obliged the Pope to recall him. When he became Pope himself he sent St Augustine and his companions on this mission (597) and planned the organisation of the Church in England—two archbishops each with 12 suffragans, and Canterbury to be the Primatial See.

St Gregory opposed heresy and simony, reformed the ecclesiastical chant-hence called Gregorian- fixed the Canon of the Mass, and left numerous writings on Christian life and doctrine; he favoured the expansion of the monastic life, and did much to develop Christian spirituality. Owing to the neglect of the emperors, St Gregory was obliged to take upon himself much of time civil government of Rome. To protest against the growing ambition of the Patriarchs of Constantinople he took the title “Servant of the servants of God,” which is still used by the Pope today.

65.-St Sabinian (13 Sept., 604–22 June, 606).

66.-Boniface III (19 Feb.- 12 Nov., 607).

67.-St Boniface IV (15 Sept., 608–25 May, 615). He arranged with Mellitus, Bishop of London, certain questions concerning points of discipline, in which the British tradition differed from the actual usage of Rome.

68.-St Deusdedit (19 Oct., 615–8 Nov., 618).

69.-Boniface V (23 Dec., 619–25 Oct., 625) continued the organisation of the Church in England, and in 625 granted Primatial rights to the see of Canterbury according to the design of St Gregory the Great.

70.-Honorius I (3 Nov., 625- 12 Oct., 638) ended the schism with Aquileia which had lasted since the dispute of the Three Chapters. He failed to grasp the meaning of the theory of the Patriarch Sergius of Constantinople concerning the two wills in Christ; this had the effect of encouraging the Monothelite heresy, and for this he was condemned by the next General Council afterwards. He ordained for England that when either of the metropolitans died, his successor should be consecrated by the other, so as to save the long journey to Rome.

71 .-Severinus (elected the 2nd of Oct., 638, consecrated 28 May, 640–2 Aug., 640). Condemned the Ecthesis (a decree by Heraclius in favour of the Monothelites).

72.-John IV (24 Dec., 640- 12 Oct., 642). Condemned the Monothelite heresy in a Roman synod (640), and explained the mistake of Honorius (see No. 70).

73.-Theodore I (24 Nov., 642–13 May, 649) energetically opposed the Monothelite heresy, which was upheld by the Patriarchs Pyrrhus and Paul of Constantinople.

74.-St Martin I (July, 649- 653, 655). By his condemnation of the Monothehites at the Lateran Council (Oct. 649) he drew on himself the hatred of Constans II and was, by order of this emperor, arrested in the Lateran Palace (653) and taken to Constantinople. He was condemned to death, treated with cruelty, and banished to the Chersonese, where he died (655). He is honoured as a martyr.

75.-St Eugene I (10 April, 654–657). He was elected during the life-time of St Martin. He tried to reconcile the emperors with the Church, but without sacrificing orthodoxy.

76.-St VitaIian (30 July, 657–27 Jan. 672) sent a learned Greek monk, Theodore, to be Archbishop of Canterbury, with full jurisdiction over a11 the Church of the Angles (the Saxon priest who had been sent to Rome for this office had died before consecration).

77.-Adeodatus (672–676) opposed the Monothelites.

78.-Donus (676–11 April, 678) obliged the Archbishop of Ravenna to acknowledge the authority of the Holy See.

79.-St Agatho (678–681) condemned the Monothehites in a synod at Rome (680) and, with the emperor, called the 6th General Council, sending to it the Definition of Faith on the Monothelite heresy. He sent a visitor to the Angles, to inquire into their faith, and limited the number of English bishops to one metropolitan and eleven suffragans.

80.-St Leo II (elected Dec., 681, consecrated 17 Aug., 682- 3 July, 683). He confirmed the decrees of the 6th General Council (Constantinople, 681), had them translated into Latin and sent them to the bishops of Spain; put an end to the schism of Ravenna, established a second English metropolitan at York.

81-St Benedict II (elected 683, consecrated July, 684- 8 May, 685). He endeavoured to make all the West receive the decrees of the 6th General Council.

82.-John V (23 July, 685–2 Aug., 686).

83.-Conon (Oct., 686–22 Sept., 687).

84.-St Sergius I (15 Dec., 687-Sept., 701) refused to confirm the decisions of the Council “in Trullo” (a council at Constantinople, composed almost entirely of Eastern bishops, whose decrees on discipline were animated by a spirit of hostility to Rome) (692). He consecrated St Willibrord as Archbishop of Frisia and introduced the custom of singing the Agnus Dei at Mass.

85—John VI (30 Oct., 701- 11 Jan., 705). He-like two of his predecessors-did justice to St Wilfrid when driven from his see by the kings of Mercia and Northumbria.

86.-John VII (1 March, 705- 18 Oct., 707) refused to confirm the decrees of the Council “in Trullo.”

87.-Sisinnius (18 Jan.-4 Feb., 708).

88.-Constantine I (25 March, 708–9 April, 715) received the submission of the Archbishop of Ravenna. He made the journey to Nicomedia, at the command of the . emperor Justinian II, who desired his confirmation of the Council “in Trullo.” The Pope, however, refused to confirm it. firm it.

-St Gregory II (19 May, 715–11 Feb., 731) resisted the incursions of the Lombards, and opposed the emperor Leo III, who wished to abolish the use of images; a Roman synod condemned this error (729). This Pope consecrated St Boniface, an English monk, and sent him as bishop to be the apostle of Germany.

90.-St Gregory III (18 March, 731–10 Dec., 741) broke off relations with the Court of Constantinople on account of the heresy of the emperor. Threatened by the Lombards, he decided to apply to the Franks, but Charles Martel declined all military intervention. This Pope made St Boniface archbishop, and through him organised the Church in Germany, and reformed the Church in Gaul.

91.-St Zachary (3 Dec., 741- 23 March, 752) tried to arrest the progress of the Lombards, and obtained a truce for 20 years (742).The most notable feature of this reign is the Pope’s steady support of St Boniface. He approved of the title of King of the Franks taken by Pepin the Short (751).

92.-Stephen 11 (752–26 April, 757). He concluded a truce for 40 years with Aistulf, king of the Lombards, but as it was not faithfully kept he crossed the Alps-The first Pope to do so- and went to ask the intervention of Pepin, whom he crowned with his sons in St Denis (754). Pepin invaded italy, defeated Aistulf, and, despite the protests of the emperor, made over a great part of the conquered territory to the Pope. This is the origin of the Papal States. (In some lists this Pope is called Stephen III, and his successors of the same name are all advanced by one number. The reason is that before him there was a Pope Stephen, who died before consecration, and is not included in contemporary lists.)

93.-St Paul I (29 May, 757- 28 June, 767) brother of Stephen II, .whose policy of alliance with the Franks he continued, in order to hold in check Desiderius, king of the Lombards. He took under his protection the monks expelled from Constantinople by the Iconoclasts.

94-Stephen III (elected 1, consecrated 7 Aug., 768–24 Jan., 772). This Pope was elected after a year of terrible strife and war, caused by the nobles” imposition of a layman-Constantine-as Pope. Whereupon the right of electing Popes was taken from the laity, and restricted to the clergy of Rome. The use of images was proclaimed orthodox.

95.-Adrian I (1 Feb., 772- 26 Dec., 795) was aided by Charlemagne against the Lombard king, whose kingdom was suppressed in 774. Charlemagne confirmed the “Donation of Pepin” (Papal States), but refused to receive the decision of the 2nd General Council of Nicea (787) about the veneration of images. In 787 the Pope sent two legates to visit England, and he established a third metropolitan see at Lichfield.

96—St Leo III (27 Dec., 795- 12 June, 816). A revolt of the Romans obliged him to seek refuge at Paderborn. Charlemagne came in person to Rome to investigate the accusations made against him. On this occasion (Christmas, 800) St Leo. 111 crowned him emperor of the Romans, which gave him the duty of defending the rights of the Holy See. In order, however, not to irritate Constantinople further, the Pope refused Charlemagne’s petition to have the “ Filioque” inserted in the Creed at this time.

97—Stephen IV (elected 12, consecrated 22 June, 816–24 Jan., 817).

98.-St Paschal I (25 Jan., 817–824).

99.-Eugenius 11 (6 June, 824- 27 Aug, 827). In concert with the emperor, this Pope promulgated the Constitution of Lothair, which gave back to the laity their share in the election of the Popes and made the emperor the judge of the validity of the election (Nov. 824).

100.-Valentine (Aug-Oct., 827).

101.-Gregory IV (end of 827- Jan., 844) named St Anschar t795–872 his legate for the Scandinavian missions. He introduced the Feast of All Saints into the Roman calendar.

102-Sergius 11 (844–27 Jan., 847) a weak and venal ruler. In 846 the Saracens sacked the tombs of the Apostles.

103-St Leo IV (elected Jan., consecrated 10 April; 847–17 Oct., 855) respected the rights of the empire, whilst maintaining those of the Holy See, especially in regard to Papal elections. He blessed and gave confirmation to Alfred, son of Ethelwulf-later King Alfred the Great.

104.-Benedict III (29 Sept., 855–7 April, 858). (It is here that the fable-of Eastern origin perhaps-about “Pope Joan” is placed. She is supposed to have reigned from 855 to 858.)

105.-St Nicholas I (24 April, 858–13 Nov., 867). He defended the laws and the rights of the Church with great energy, annulled the election of Photius to the see of Constantinople, and welcomed the Bulgarians to the Latin rite.

106.-Adrian 11 (14 Dec., 867- 14 Dec., 872) upheld the rights of Hincmar, Bishop of Laon, against Hincmar of Rheims and Charles the Bald. He condemned Photius (8th General Council, 869) but had the sorrow of seeing the Bulgarians fall back into the obedience of Constantinople. Moravia, however, converted by St Cyril and St Methodius, remained Roman.

107.-John VIII (14 Dec., 872–16 Dec., 882) crowned Charles the Bald emperor (Christmas, 875). Being exiled from Rome by a party faction, he went to France and there crowned Louis the Stammerer king. He also crowned the emperor Charles the Fat (881), but received no help from him against the Saracens. He encouraged the apostolate of. St Cyril and St Methodius, and approved of the Slav liturgy. During this reign, Photius obtained a new council (879), which rehabilitated him, and which John VIII confirmed.

108.-Martin II (Dec., 882- May, 884). This is the first instance of a bishop being elected Pope (he was Bishop of Cervetri). This Pope was, in fact, called Marinus I, but subsequent catalogues called him Martin II, and his later namesake Martin III.

109.-Blessed Adrian III (17 May, 884-Sept. 885).

110.-Stephen V (885–14 Sept., 891. He put the emperor Basil the Macedonian~ on his guard against Photius. In a letter to Swatopluk,—Duke of Moravia, he forbade the use of the Slavonic liturgy, which had been sanctioned by John VIII.

111.-Formosus (6 Oct., 891- 4 April, 896) was Bishop of Porto. He had been deposed and excommunicated by John VIII (30 June, 876) but freed from ecclesiastical censure by Marinus (Martin II, 883). He was a capable and worthy Pope.

112.-Stephen VI (896-Aug., 897). He tried his predecessor’s corpse for having left his see of Porto for that of Rome, and annulled his ordinations. However, a rising took place, and Stephen VI was strangled in prison.

113.-Romanus (Aug-Oct. or Nov., 897). He was driven from his throne.

114.-Theodore II (Dec., 897~, He rehabilitated Formosus, and regularised the ordinations made by him, which Stephen VI had annulled. It is probable that he perished by a violent death.

115—John IX (Jan., 898- April, 900). lie confirmed the rehabilitation of Formosus, and decreed that henceforth the Papal elections should take place in the presence of a delegate of the emperor henceforth the Papal elections should take place in the presence of a delegate of the emperor

-Benedict IV (May or June, 900-July or Aug., 903). This Pope was a reformer. The Church passed now through a terrible century, in which the intrigues of worldly and ambitious persons and factions in many instances determined Papal elections and subjected the Papacy to a degrading and vexatious dependence.

117.-Leo V (5 Aug-S Sept., 903) murdered.

118.-Christopher (autumn 903-end of May, 904) dethroned Leo V, and was himself dethroned and murdered by Sergius III.

119.-Sergius III (904–911) owed his elevation to the family called Theophylact, whose most notorious members were three bad women, Theodora the Elder, and her two daughters, Theodora the Younger, and Marozia.

120.-Anastasius III (911- 913).

121.-Lando (Aug., 913- March 914).

122.-John X (March, 914- May, 928). Owed his elevation to the Papacy to the influence of Theodora. He struggled, however, energetically against the Saracens. Overthrown and murdered by Marozia.

123.-Leo VI (5 June, 928- 5 Feb., 929). Rome was dominated during this Pontificate by Marozia, who appointed this Pope and his two successors.

124.-Stephen VII (929–931).

125.-John XI (March 931-Dec., 935) son of Marozia.

126.-Leo VII (9 Jan., 936- July, 939). Appointed Pope, like his three successors, by Marozia’s other son, Alberic. Reformed the monasteries with the help of St Odo, Abbot of Cluny.

127.-Stephen VIII (939–942).

128.-Martin III or Marinus II (942–946). This was a troubled time for the whole of Italy- feudal wars and incursions of the Saracens.

129.-Agapitus 11 (946–955).

130-John XII (16 Dec., 955- 14 May, 964). He was Octavian, son of Alberic II, and was made Pope at 18 by the influence of his family. He is generally said to have been a man of scandalous morals-one of the few Popes of whom this can be said. He crowned Otto I as emperor at Rome, with Adelaide his wife (962). The emperor later claimed to “depose” the Pope, and drove him from his throne. He regained it, but was murdered.

131-Benedict V (964). His election is of doubtful validity.

132.-Leo VIII (964-March, 965). His election is of doubtful validity; he is not counted in the Annuario Pofftificio.

133.-John XIII (1 Oct., 965- 5 Sept., 972). He relied on the support of Otto I, who protected him against the revolts of the Romans. He crowned Otto II, 25 Dec., 967.

134.-Benedict VI (19 Jan., 973-July 974) “deposed” and murdered by factious nobles. (Between Benedict VI and Benedict VII some lists have put in a Donus II, who never existed. It is simply a copyist’s mistake.)

135.-Benedict VII (974-Oct., 983), appointed by the emperor. This Pope tried to reform abuses in the Church, especially by laws against simony.

136—John XIV (10 Dec., 983- 20 Aug., 984). Pietro Campanova, who had been Bishop of Pavia. An excellent Pope, most desirous of making the needed reforms in the Church. Probably murdered by the anti-pope Boniface VII.

137.-John XV (Aug., 985- March, 996) was a learned Pope, and a friend of the Cluniac monks, but too much attached to the interests of his relations. He was the first Pope to perform a canonisation properly so-called-that of St Ulrich (993).

(The old lists counted two Popes between John XIV and John XV, Boniface VII (Franco) who was certainly an anti-pope, and another John XV, supposed to have been elected but never consecrated. In reality he did not exist. It was this which changed the true order of the Popes named John, from John XXI onwards. Moreover a John XVI has been counted who was an antipope, supported” by Crescentius II against Gregory V (997–998.)

138.-Gregory V (3 May, 996- 18 Feb., 999) appointed by the emperor. The first German Pope. He fought energetically against simony, and made Robert, King of France, respect the marriage laws. Poisoned by the nobles.

139-Sylvester II (999–12 May, 1003). Gerbert, born in Auvergne-the first French Pope. He tried, in concert with the energetic emperor Otto III, who had appointed him, to organise the Christian world- gave the title of king to St Stephen of Hungary, founded the Archbishopric of Gnesen, in Poland, and that of Gran, in Hungary.

140.-John XVII (13 June- 6 Nov., 1003). This Pope and his two successors were the nominees of the nobles- all-powerful since the death of Otto III (1002).

141.-John XVIII (25 Dec., 1003-July 1009).

142.-Sergius IV (1009–1012).

143.-Benedict VIII (20 April, 1012–9 April, 1024) Theophylact, Count of Tusculum, raised to the Papacy through the influence of his kindred. Crowned St Henry II, emperor, and on this occasion introduced the “Filioque” into the Creed. He was a Pope who worked for the reform of the Church. He visited St Henry at Bamberg, in 1020, and consecrated the cathedral in that city.

144.-John XIX (25 June, 1024–6 Dec., 1032), brother of “the last Pope, but a bad Pope. He published the first indulgence to which was attached the giving of alms as a condition.

145.-Benedict IX (1033–1044) Theophylact. Raised to the Papal dignity in spite of his youth by family influence-he was the nephew of the last two Popes. He was driven from his throne by the Romans (1036), restored by Conrad II, a second time driven away, and his office taken by Sylvester III (1044). Benedict died about 1049. by Conrad II, a second time driven away, and his office taken by Sylvester III (1044). Benedict died about 1049.

-Sylvester III (Feb. to April, 1044). His election is of doubtful validity, and his reign ended with the return of Benedict IX.

147.-Gregory VI (5 May, 1045–20 Dec., 1046, died 1047) John Gratian. He bought the tiara, that is, offered Benedict money, in order to get him to resign his claim, as he considered him unworthy to be Pope. Gregory was a good, charitable, and popular man, but was deposed, together with the two other claimants—Benedict IX and Sylvester III, by the emperor, Henry III, at the Council of Sutri. He died at Cologne. His election is of doubtful validity.

148.-Clement II (24 Dec., 1046–9 Oct., 1047) Suidger of Saxony, Bishop of Bamberg named by Henry III. He tried to reform abuses in the Church: murdered.

149.-Damasus II (17 July-9 Aug.,. 1045) Poppo, Bishop of Brixen, an excellent Pope named by Henry III.

150.-St Leo IX (12 Feb., 1049–19 April, 1054). Bruno, Count of Dagsbourg, in Alsace, Bishop of Toul from 1027. He showed zeal for the reformation of ecclesiastical abuses. He was named Pope by Henry III. He then undertook journeys of visitation, and presided in person over the Councils of Lateran, Pavia, Rheims, and Mayence, fighting against lay-investitures, simony, and the .corruption of the clergy. He took such men as Hildebrand, Humbert of Moyenmoutier, and Hugh of Cluny to help him. The schism of the Greek Church was accomplished finally under his reign, though Michael Cerularius alone was actually excommunicated (16 July, 1054).

151.-Victor 11(13 April, 1055–28 July, 1057) Count Gebhard of Dollenstein, Bishop of Richstadt. The last Pope to be named by an emperor. He held a great Council of reform at Florence, and sent Hildebrand and other legates to promote reform in France (Councils of Lyons and Toulouse, 1055, 1056).

152.-Stephen IX (2 Aug., 1057–29 March, 1058) Frederick, son of Duke Gozelo of Lorraine. He had been one of the legates sent to Constantinople against Michael Cerularius in 1054, and was the first Pope freely elected by the Roman clergy since Paschal I (No. 98). A great reformer.

153.-Nicholas II (24 Jan., 1059–19 July, 1061) Gerard of Burgundy, Bishop of Florence. He made a decree regulating finally the privilege of the cardinals to be the sole electors of the Pope and abolishingall the emperor’s rights in the matter. He sought to use the Normans (Robert Guiscard) to balance the influence of the empire. He was zealous for the work of reform.

(The anti-pope, Benedict X, has been counted lawful by mistake, which puts out the numbering for Popes of this name.) name.)

-Alexander II (1 Oct., 1061–21 April, 1073). Anselm of Baggio, near Milan, Bishop of Lucca. He was a zealous Pope and continued to fight the three great evils of the time, lay investitures, simony, and the corruption of the clergy. He was greatly helped by Hildebrand and St Peter Damian. At the end of the Saxon period in England, the growing power of the kings had led them to assume undue influence in episcopal elections. The four principal sees were held un-canonically, and the clergy as a rule were ignorant. The Pope, therefore, encouraged William the Conqueror in his project of claiming the English throne, hoping for better things from Norman rule. His legates crowned William and deposed Stigand, who had obtained the see of Canterbury from the antipope Benedict X, to which see the Pope nominated Lanfranc, an Italian monk, now Abbot of Bec.

155.-St Gregory VII (22 April, 1073–25 May, 1085). Hildebrand. One of the greatest popes of history. Born at Soana, in Tuscany, about 1020, he was associated with the Popes in all the affairs of the Church from the time of Leo IX. He aimed especially at the abolition of lay-investiture as the source of the other abuses in the Church, and here he came into violent conflict with the Emperor, Henry IV, whom be excommunicated and deposed for violating the law in this matter. Henry made his submission at Canossa (1077), but soon relapsed. St Gregory then approved of the choice of Rudolf of Suabia as king of Germany, whereupon Henry took Rome, and the Pope was only delivered by the Normans, under Robert Guiscard. He died in exile at Salerno. He has been much criticised by those who uphold the supremacy of the State over the Church. In England, William the Conqueror began the Norman tradition of “Customs,” aimed at making the papal authority second to the royal in ecclesiastical affairs in his realm.

156.- Blessed Victor III. (elected 24 May, 1086, consecrated 9 May, 1087–16 Sept., 1087). He continued the struggle of Gregory VII against lay-investitures, and died at Monte Cassino.

157.-Blessed Urban II (12 March, 1088–29 July, 1099). Odo of Largery, born at Châtillon on the Maine (1042), Cardinal Bishop of Ostia (1078). He continued the fight against investitures, and against Henry’s anti-pope, Clement III (Guikert of Ravenna). He held many synods for reforming abuses- Melfi (1089), Piacenza (1095), Clermont (1095), where he launched the first Crusade, and Ban (1098), at which St Anselm of Canterbury was present. He had come to lay before the Sovereign Pontiff the wrongs he suffered at the hands of William Rufus, who had forbidden him to go to Rome, and ordered him to renounce obedience to the Pope, except as allowed by the king. Urban II at the Council of Rome (1099), forbade any cleric henceforth to become the vassal of a layman for ecclesiastical preferment.

158.-Paschal II (1099–21 Jan., 1118) Rainieri of Bieda, near Viterbo. Continued the struggle against investitures, holding Councils at Rome (1102), Guastella (1106), Troyes (1107), Lateran (1107), Benevento (1109). In 1111 he signed a treaty with the emperor, Henry V, in which he yielded for the moment the question of investitures, but resumed the struggle again at the Lateran Council (1112), and was driven from Rome by Henry V. He confirmed the treaty called “ Truce .of God,” at the Council of Troja (1115), and refused to allow Henry I of England any exemption from the general law on investitures made by Urban II. Henry submitted.

159.-Gelasius Il (24 Jan., 1118–18 Jan., 1119).

160.-Calixtus II (elected 2, crowned 9 Feb., 1119–13 Dec., 1124) Guy of Burgundy, Archbishop of Vienne (France). A courageous opponent of lay-investiture, he had the happiness of putting an end to this struggle by the Concordat of Worms (1122), which was confirmed at the 1st General Council of the Lateran (1123). He had much trouble with Henry I of England, who had again begun to usurp the rights of the Holy See as to appointing and translating bishops, and refused for seven years to recognise the Archbishop of York (Thurstan) consecrated by Calixtus.

161.-Honorius II (15 Dec., 1124–14 Feb., 1130) Lambert Scannabecchi, of Fagnano, near Imola. He reestablished relations with England, which had been strained almost to breaking by the lawless behaviour of the first three Norman kings.

162.-Innocent II (14 Feb., 1130–24 Sept., 1143) Gregory Papareschi, was driven to France by the party of the anti-pope Pierleone (Anacletus II). St Bernard and St Norbert supported Innocent, and the end of the schism was celebrated at the 2nd General Council of the Lateran (1139). In 1138, Archbishop Theobald of Canterbury received from the Pope the title of Legatus Natus, which remained with his successors till the Reformation.

163.-Celestine II (26 Sept., 1143–8 March, 1144) Guido di Castello, a Tuscan, pupil of Abelard. A man of wide views and pacific mind.

164.-Lucius II (12 March, 1144–15 Feb., 1145) Gerard Caccianemici, of Bologna, encouraged the religious orders, especially the Premonstratensians: killed while besieging the Capitol.

165.-Blessed Eugenius III (1145–8 July, 1153) Bernard Paganelli of Pisa, a disciple of St Bernard, whom he charged to preach the second Crusade. Theobald of Canterbury attended the Council of Rheims (1148) contrary to the orders of King Stephen, for which be was banished. The Pope, in consequence, laid England for a short time under an interdict. Owing to the disturbances created in Rome by Arnold of Brescia, this Pope had to go twice into exile. He died at Tivoli.

166.-Anastasius IV (12 July. 1153–3 Dec., 1154).

167.-Adrian IV (4 Dec, 1154–1 Sept., 1159) Nicholas Breakspeare, the only English Pope. He was educated at the Benedictine Abbey of St Albans, studied in France, and entered a house of the Congregation of Canons of St Rufus near Arles, of which he was elected abbot. Eugenius III called him to Rome, created him Cardinal Bishop of Albano, and sent him as Legate to the Kingdoms of Denmark, Sweden, and Norway. His mission was the beginning of a new age in Scandinavian Catholicism, and on the death of Anastasius IV he was elected Pope. Arnold of Brescia continued to disturb the peace of the city till Adrian laid it under interdict and thus brought the people to give up their connection with Arnold. In this reign began the second phase of the long struggle between the empire and. the Papacy. Frederick Barbarossa continually encroached on the rights of the Holy See and endeavoured to subject the Church to the State He had gone so far as to imprison two cardinals, and only escaped excommunication by the death of the Pope.

168.-Alexander III (7 Sept., 1159–30 Aug., 1181) Rolando Bandineli of Siena. He was great, both in his learning and his action. He was one of the founders of the Canon Law. He continued the fight against Barbarossa and the anti-popes named by him, and had more than once to pass sentence of excommunication on him. This, together with the crushing defeat of Legnano, brought Frederick to make a full submission to the Holy Father at Venice (1177). Henry II of England also caused him continual sorrow by his violence and tyranny against the Church, culminating in the martyrdom of St Thomas Becket, whom Alexander had supported throughout, and whom he canonised little more than two years after his death. At the 3rd General Council of the Lateran (1179) he condemned the Albigenses and Waldenses, and reformed the method of Papal elections, making twothirds of the cardinals” votes the majority needed for a valid election.

169.-Lucius III (1 Sept., 1181- 25 Nov., 1185) called the Council of Verona (1184), where the third Crusade was decided on, and also the measures to be taken against heretics (Inquisition). was decided on, and also the measures to be taken against heretics (Inquisition).

-Urban III (25 Nov., 1185–20 Oct., 1187).

171 -Gregory VIII (21 Oct.,- 17 Dec., 1187).

172—Clement III (19 Dec., 1187–20 March, 1191).

173.-Celestine III (30 March, 1191–8 Jan., 1198).

174.-Innocent III (8 Jan., 1198–16 July, 1216) Lothaire conti di Segni, nephew of Clement III. One of the great popes of history. He was born at Anagni, and became Pope at 37. In spite of his youth, his eminent qualities gave him much influence. In the contested Imperial election he claimed the right to arbitrate and his decision was received by both parties. He exercised this power of arbitration also in the affairs of Aragon, Poland, Hungary, and Bulgaria, and by his authority obliged Philip Augustus to take back his wife Ingelburga, whom he had unlawfully put away. His authority was respected everywhere. In England, John was outdoing his predecessors in his contempt for the liberties of the Church. In 1207 he ordered the monks of Canterbury to elect as primate the courtier Bishop of Norwich, instead of their sub-prior, whom they had chosen. The Pope set both aside and nominated Cardinal Stephen Langton, an eminent Englishman, whom John, however, refused to allow into the kingdom. For five years England lay under an interdict, and in 1213 the king was excommunicated, which in those days exempted subjects from their allegiance. He therefore submitted. Langton at length took possession of his see, and became the champion of both civil and ecclesiastical liberty in the country. Innocent III held the 4th General Council of the I.ateran (1215).

175.-Honorius III (18 July, 1216.48 March, 1227) Cencio Savelli. He gave his approval to the Franciscan, Dominican, and Carmelite Orders.

176.-Gregory IX (19 March, 1227–22 Aug., 1241). Ugolino di Segni, nephew of Innocent III, governed with great energy. He excommunicated Frederic II, who submitted in 1236, but was again under the censure of the Church in 1239. Gregory died before the end of the conflict. He canonised St Francis and St Dominic, and protected their Orders still in their infancy.

177.-Celestine IV (25 Oct.,-10 Nov., 1241).

178.-Innocent IV (25 June, 1243~7 Dec., 1254) Sinibaldo Fieschi, Count of Baragna, born at Genoa. He wished to make peace with the Empire, but the conduct of Frederic made it impossible. Innocent left Rome, and held a General Council at Lyons, in which he excommunicated Frederic (1245). The struggle now became fiercer and continued after the death of Frederic (1250), but the victory was to the Holy See. Innocent. IV ranks amongst the greater popes of history. In his embarrassment during the long struggle with Frederic, and with the necessity of keeping up the Papal court at Lyons, he had to make frequent demands on the purses of his flock, and sought to provide for over-many .Italian priests in other countries. Robert Grosseteste, Bishop of Lincoln, whilst fully acknowledging the Pope’s right to nominate to all benefices, represented to the Holy Father the hardship to the English of having so many foreigners, ignorant of the language, set over them for the cure of souls, and the Pope accordingly regulated the matter by a Bull (1253), greatly reducing the number of those who might be sent to England. As Henry Ill-though pious in some ways-did not scruple to.keep benefices empty, that he might enjoy their revenues, and to nominate worthless courtier bishops, the Pope himself consecrated both the Archbishop of Canterbury (Boniface of Savoy, the Queen’s uncle) and St Richard of Chichester. After Alexander III, this Pope is the greatest of the “ Canonist” Popes.

179.-Alexander IV (12 Dec., 1254–25 May, 1261) Rainaldo di Segni, nephew of Gregory IX. He died of sorrow at the civil discord in the Church, and especially in Rome.

180.-Urban IV (29 Aug., 1261–2 Oct., 1264) Jacques Pantaleon, born at Troyes, in France. He was unable to enter Rome, and lived first at Viterbo, and then at Orvieto. He instituted the Feast of Corpus Christi (1264).

181.-Clement IV (5 Feb., 1265–29 Nov., 1268) Gui Foulquois le Gros of St Gilles-sur-Rhône, Counsellor of St Louis, and Archbishop of Narbonne. He contended against nepotism.

182.-Blessed Gregory X (1 Sept., 1271–10 Jan., 1276) Theobaldo Visconti of Piacenza. He governed wisely- confirmed the Imperial crown to Rudolf of Hapsburg, and called the 2nd General Council of Lyons (1274) at which the reunion of the Greeks with the Church effected. Unfortunately, it proved of short duration.

183.-Blessed Innocent V (2 Jan.-22 June, 1276) Peter of Tarantaise, born at Champigny, in Savoy. A Pope distinguished for theological learning, deep piety, and great virtue.

184.-Adrian V (11 July-18 Aug., 1276).

185.-John XXI (8 Sept., 1276–20 May, 1277) Peter Juliani, a Portuguese (Petrus Hispanus). A celebrated theologian and great student of the natural sciences and of (Arabian) medicine. He was the author of the Summulae Logicales, which. served for three centuries as a text book of logic.

186.-Nicholas III (25 Nov., 1277–22 Aug., 1280) Giovanni Gaetano Orsini. He made great efforts to reconcile the rival parties into which the Franciscan Order was at this time divided. He sent ambassadors to Mongolia.

187.-Martin IV (22 Feb., 1281–28 March, 1285) Simon of Brie, in the diocese of Sens. He excommunicated Michael Paleologus, which led to the renewal of the Greek schism.

188.-Honorius IV (2 April, 1285–3 April, 1287) Giacomo Savelli, a Roman, very energetic in spite of his great age. Established chairs for Oriental languages at the University of Paris.

189.-Nicholas IV (22 Feb., 1288–4 April, 1292) Girolamo Moschi of Ascoli, a Franciscan. He sent missionaries to the Mongols.

190.-St Celestine V (5 July,-13 Dec., 1294) Pietro de Murrone, a hermit of saintly life, elected after a vacancy of 20 months in the Apostolic See He was unfitted to rule, and resigned after a few months to become a simple monk again. He died in a sort of semi-captivity, 19 May, 1296.

191.-Boniface VIII (24 Dec., 1294–11 Oct., 1303) Benedetto Gaëtani, born at Anagni. He was full of the noblest intentions but encountered the hostility of princes, especially of Philip the Fair of France, with whom he had a severe conflict and by whom he was treated with great indignity. He forbade the enforced extra taxation of ecclesiastical property for secular purposes, except for national defence. He was arrested and maltreated by partisans of Philip, and died of grief. Under his reign the first jubilee took place (1300).

192.-Blessed Benedict Xl (22 Oct., 1303–7 July, 1304) Nicholao Boccasini of Treviso, formerly general of the Dominicans. He tried to improve the relations of France with the Holy See.

193.-Clement V (5 June, 1305–14 April, 1314) Bertrand de Got, Archbishop of Bordeaux, elected at Perugia and crowned at Lyons. Detained in France by urgent affairs consequent on the relations of Boniface VIII and. Philip the Fair, he established the Papal residence at Avignon, 1309, where it remained for 70 years. In order to avert a “trial” of Boniface VIII, he yielded as a matter of expediency to Philip the Fair, and suppressed the Templars at the General Council of Vienne

194.-John XX1I (7 Aug., 1316–4 Dec., 1334) Jacques d”Euse of Cahors. Elected at Lyons after the Holy See had been vacant two years, he lived at Avignon, of which he had been bishop. He was a remarkable administrator. He vigorously opposed Louis of Bavaria and the Fraticelli, who set up an anti-pope (Pierre of Corbière). He maintained the rights of the Holy See against State interference; and condemned Marsilius of Padua, who had written a revolutionary work against the Papacy.

195.-Benedict XII (20 Dec., 1334–25 April, 1342) Jacques Fournier of Saverdun in Languedoc. A pious and austere Pope, he reformed the Roman Curia and the Religious Orders. Built the Papal palace at Avignon.

196.-Clement VI (7 May, 1342–6 Dec., 1352) Pierre Roger. Open-handed, but somewhat too fond of magnificence, he bought the county and town of Avignon and dangerously developed the Papal system of taxing the whole Church. He fixed the jubilee for every 50th year. In England, Edward III, by the statutes of Provisors and Praemunire, strove to limit the Popes power in the matter of ecclesiastical appointments.

197.-Innocent VI (18 Dec., 1352–12 Sept., 1362) Etienne Aubert of Mont (Diocese of Limoges). A pious Pope who used ecclesiastical censures only when absolutely necessary, and was prudent and moderate in his relations with princes. He tried to reform the Roman Curia, protested against the Golden Bull (which abolished the Papal rights in the election of emperors) and by the help of Cardinal Albornoz regained the Papal States which had almost entirely fallen under the power of petty despots.

198.-Blessed Urban V (elected 28 Sept., consecrated 6 Nov., .1362–19 Dec.,1370) Guillaume Grimoard of Grisac. A very pious and literary Pope. He strove to reform the clergy. In 1367 he returned to Rome, but was unable to stay there, and died at Avignon.

199.-Gregory XI (30 Dec., 1370–27 March, 1378) Pierre Roger of Beaufort, nephew of Clement VI; the last French Pope. He yielded to the entreaties of St Catherine of Siena and returned to Rome (1377).

200.-Urban VI (8 April, 1378–15 Oct., 1389) Bartolommeo Prignano of Naples, Archbishop of Bari-the last to be elected Pope without having been a cardinal. The election was troubled by popular clamour, but was certainly valid though later the cardinals, finding his zeal for the reform of abuses lacking in prudence and consideration, affected to look on it as invalid, and elected a second pope, Clement VII, who lived at Avignon. This caused the schism of the \Vest,” which lasted 40 years (1378–1417). Pope Urban VI fixed the jubilee at every 30 years. During his reign, Wyclif, almost the sole English Medieval heretic, was condemned. He was summoned to appear before the Sovereign Pontiff, but died before he could do so.

201.—Boniface IX (2 Nov., 1389—1 Oct., 1404) Pietro Tomacelli of Naples. A Pope who tried to put an end to the schism (the anti-pope at Avignon was now Benedict XIII, Pedro di Luna, a Spaniard), but unfortunately gave great scandal by an excessive attention to his revenues.

202.-Innocent VII (17 Oct., 1404–6 Nov., 1406) Cosirno dei Migliorati. He intended to call a Council to end the schism, but died before he could accomplish it.

203.—Gregory XII (30 Nov., 1406–4 June, 1415, died 18 Sept., 1417) Angelo Corranio of Venice. He was abandoned by his cardinals, who united with those of Avignon to elect a third Pope at the Council of Pisa (1409). Next, in 1414, the Council of Constance, called by the Pisan Pope, John XXIII, summoned Gregory and Benedict XIII to appear before it, Gregory decided to abdicate for the peace of the Church. The Council deposed John XXIII and Benedict XIII.

204.-Martin V (11 Nov., 1417–20 Feb., 1431) Odo Colonna, born at Genezzano, elected at Constance. He had to contend against the theory that a General Council is superior to the Pope, and to fight against the destructive heresy of Hus.

205.-Eugene IV (3 March, 1431–23 Feb., 1447) Gabriele Condulmaro. A pious Pope who did much good. He held the Council of Florence, which for the second time effected reunion with the Greeks (1439). (See No. 182.)

206.-Nicholas V (6 March, 1447–24 March, 1455) Tommaso Parentucelli of Sarzana (Tuscany), Archbishop of Bologna, succeeded in putting an end to the schism of Basle (1449), celebrated a splendid jubilee (1450), crowned Frederic III in Rome (1452) -the last imperial coronation in Rome. He was a great patron of learning and art, and founded the Vatican library.

207.-Calixtus III (8 April, 1455–6 Aug., 1458) Alonso Borgia, born 1378 near Valencia (Spain). A good and energetic Pope, in spite of his age. His reign was much troubled by the incursions of the Turks, who had taken Constantinople (1453), but though unable to realise the project he had formed of a Crusade against them, he succeeded in arresting their progress before Belgrade (1456).

208.-Pius II (19 Aug., 1458- 15 Aug., 1464) Aeneas Sylvius Piccolomini, born near Siena 1405. A patron of the Renaissance. He had been secretary and an adherent of the anti-pope Felix V, but became a loyal servant of the Holy See, and exercised a great influence on his times. He died at Ancona, whilst endeavouring to raise a Crusade against the Turks.

209.-Paul 11(30 Aug., 1464- 26 July, 1471) Pietro Barbo, born 1418 at Venice, fixed the jubilee for every 25th year. Fearing that the Renaissance, especially the excessive imitation of pagan ways of life, would go too far, he set himself to oppose the tendency, and abolished the Court of the Abbreviatori established by his predecessor, Pius II, and the Academy of Pomponius Laetus, thus drawing on himself the hatred of its members.

210.-Sixtus IV (9 Aug., 1471- 12 Aug., 1484) Cardinal Francesco della Rovere of Savona, born 1414. He beautified the city of Rome, but employed undesirable means of raising funds (plurality of benefices, etc.). In this reign, through the Pope’s nomination of incompetent and evil-living men to high office, and his promotion of unworthy relatives, the seeds were sown of all the scandals that, for sixty years, made Rome the world’s disgrace.

211.-Innocent VIII (29 Aug., 1484–25 July, 1492) Giovanni Battista Cibo, born at Genoa. A weak Pope, who tolerated scandals in the Roman court, but deserves credit for ending the long feud between the houses of Colonna and Orsini.

212.-Alexander VI (10 Aug., 1492–18 Aug., 1503) Rodriguez Lanzol, adopted by his uncle, Alonzo Borgia, whose family name he took, and by whom he was made cardinal. He was intelligent, prudent, and politic, but unscrupulous and a man of bad life, utterly unworthy of his high office. He practised the most deplorable nepotism. As Pope he patronised the foreign missions, arts, and letters.

213.-Pius III (22 Sept.-18 Oct., 1503) a man of saintly life.

214.-Julius 11(31 Oct., 1503- 21 Feb., 1513) Cardinal Giuliano della Revere, nephew of Sixtus IV, very influential under Innocent VIII, and strongly opposed to Alexander VI. He published very stringent laws against simoniacal elections. An energetic Pope, and a man of worthy life, but very ambitious, and too fond of war (League of Cambrai and Holy League). Very patriotic, he dreamed of uniting all Italy-delivered from the “Barbarians”-under the shield of the Papacy. A great patron of the arts, laid the first stone of St Peter’s. Convened the 5th Lateran Council (1512–1517).

215.-Leo X (11 March, 1513- 1 Dec., 1521) Giovanni de Medici, born at Florence, 1475, made cardinal at 14. A great patron of arts and letters (Raphael, Michaelangelo, Bembo, etc.). He condemned Luther by the Bull “ Exsurge Domine,” 1520, and gave to Henry VIII the title “ Defender of the Faith” fur his book against Luther in defence of the Seven Sacraments. An easy-going, pleasure-loving man.

216.-Adrian VI (9 Jan., 1522 -14 Sept., 1523) Adrian Dedel, born at Utrecht, the last Pope who was not an Italian. A former master of Charles V. he was a zealous and virtuous Pope, who tried to reform the Roman Curia and to stem the tide of Protestantism in Europe.

217.-Clement VII (18 Nov., 1523–25 Sept., 1534) Giulio de Medici, born 1478, Archbishop of Florence, was imprisoned in the Castle of St Angelo during the sack of Rome. He saw Germany a prey to religious dissension, the Turks at the walls of Vienna, 1529, and England torn from the Holy See as a result of Henry VIII”s fruitless endeavours to obtain from the Pope a decree of nullity regarding his marriage with Catherine of Aragon.

218.-Paul III (13 Oct., 1534- 10 Nov., 1549) Alessandro Farnese, born at Canino 1468. A real statesman, he worked courageously at the reformation of abuses in the Church, published the long-delayed Bull of excommunication against Henry VIII, called the Council of Trent (1545–63) and gave his approbation to the Society of Jesus.

219.-Julius III (8 Feb., 1550- 23 March, 1555) Giovanni Maria Ciocchi del Monte, born in Rome 1487. He had as Papal legate presided over thee Council of Trent, which, as Pope, he continued. He approved the foundation of the German College in Rome, sent Cardinal Pole (Pole had very nearly been elected Pope at the last conclave.) to reconcile England to the Church, and empowered him to condone the confiscation of Church property due to the Reformation. On 30 Nov., 1554, on the formal petition of both Houses of Parliament, the legate absolved the country from heresy and schism.

220.-Marcellus II (9 April- 1 May, 1555) Marcello Cervini degli Spannochi, born in 1501 at Montepulciano. “One of the noblest figures in Papal history.” He had been in many important offices, including that of president of the Council of Trent as Cardinal Cervini, and was zealous for the work of reform. All rejoiced at his election, but be died after a reign of three weeks.

221.-Paul IV (23 May, 1555–18 Aug., 1559) Giovanni Pietro Caraffa. A Neapolitan, born at Capriglio 1470. In concert with St Cajetan he founded the Theatines. A Pope who was full of zeal for the reform of abuses in the Church, but was rather too absolute in character.

222.-Pius IV (25 Dec., 1559–9 Dec., 1565) Gianangelo de” Medici, born at Milan 1499, called his nephew, St Charles Borromeo, to office in the Church, reformed abuses in the Sacred College, and continued the Council of Trent.

223.-St Pius V (8 Jan., 1566–1 May, 1572) Michael Ghislieri, born near Alexandria (Italy) 1504. The last pope who was canonised. (Pope Pius X was canonised after this pamphlet was written) Published the Roman Catechism, the Breviary, the Missal; established the Congregation of the Index, and formed a victorious league against the Turks (Lepanto 1571). He signed the Bull excommunicating and deposing Elizabeth (1569), who had again drawn England into heresy and deprived bishops of their sees.

224—Gregory XIII (13 May, 1572–10 April, 1585) Ugo Buoncompagni, born at Bologna 1502. He condemned the errors of Baius (1579), reformed the Julian Calendar (1582), founded 23 seminaries, and developed the missions: A great patron of the new English colleges at Douay and Rome.

225.-Sixtus V (24 April, 1585 -27 Aug., 1590) Felix Perretti, born 1521, near Montalto, former general of the Franciscans. An energetic Pope, hard on himself and others. He fixed the number of the cardinals at 70, reorganiscd the Roman Curia and the 15 congregations, becoming, the founder of the modern Papal administrative system.

226.-Urban VII (15–27 Sept., 1590).

227.-Gregory XIV (5 Dec., 1590–15 Oct., 1591) Nicolao Sfondrati, born near Milan 1535. He encouraged the League in France and excommunicated Henry of Navarre.

228.-Innocent IX (29 Oct.- 30 Dec., 1591).

229.-Clement VIII (30 Jan., 1592–5 March, 1605) Ipollito Aldobrandini, born at Fano 1536. He was pious and energetic, edited the Vulgate, and re-edited the Index (1596). He was consoled by the conversion of Henry IV of France. In 1598 he appointed George Blackwell as “Archpriest” in England, but this priest took the oath of Allegiance, which in its actual form was not lawful, and others followed his example: he was therefore superseded by another Archpriest, appointed by the Holy See.

230.-Leo XI (1–27 April, 1605).

231.-Paul V (16 May, 1605–28 Jan., 1621) Camillo Borghese, born in Rome 1552. He did much to beautify Rome, and to aid missionary work. He was generous and zealous, but far too favourable to his relations.

Rome, and to aid missionary work. He was generous and zealous, but far too favourable to his relations.

-Gregory XV (9 Feb., 1621–8 July, 1623) Alessandro Ludovici: born at Bologna 1554. An active and magnanimous Pope. He regulated the Conclave (1621), founded Propaganda (1622), brought back Moravia and Bohemia to the Church, protected the Jesuits and canonised St Ignatius and St Francis Xavier. In 1623 he appointed Dr. William Bishop, Vicar Apostolic over England and Scotland, and this form of government continued till 1850.

233.-Urban VIII (16 Aug., 1623–29 July, 1644) Maffeo Barberini, born at Florence 1568. He condemned the “Augustinus” of Jansenius (1541), and gave to cardinals and also to elector bishops the title of Eminence. In 1634 the Pope sent Gregorio Panzani, of the Roman Oratory, to report on the condition of Catholics under Charles I. George Conn was then sent as Papal envoy to Queen Henrietta Maria.

234.-Innocent X (15 Sept., 1644–7 Jan., 1655) Giovanni Battista Pamfili, born in Rome 1574. He protested against the articles of the Peace of Westphalia, which were hostile to the Catholic Religion (Bull Zelus Domus Dei, 1648), and condemned five propositions of Jansenius.

235.-Alexander VII (7 April, 1655–22 May, 1667) Fabio Chigi, born at Siena 1599.

236.-Clement IX (20 June, 1667–9 Dec., 1669) Giulio Rospigliosi, born at Pistoja 1600. He had been a very influential Secretary of State under Alexander VII. He reconciled France and Spain, took great interest in the foreign missions, and forbade missionaries to engage in commerce.

237.-Clement X (29 April, 1670–22 July, 1676) Emilio Altieri. Born at Rome 1590. To him we owe the canonisation of Saints Peter of Alcantara, Rose of Lima, Madeleine of Pazzi, Francis Borgia, Cajetan of Thiene, Louis Bertrand. and Philip Benizi.

238.-lnnocent XI, Ven. (21 Sept., 1676–11 Aug., 1689) Benedetto Odescalchi, born at Como 1611, was a pious and active Pope who maintained the authority of the Holy See on all occasions, condemned quietism, reorganised the administration of the Papal States, and fought against nepotism. He effectively restored the episcopal rule in England, appointing four vicars~apostolic in 1688. He sent a nuncio to the court of the last Catholic king, James II. He protested against the Four Articles of Gallican liberties.

239.-Alexander VIII (6 Oct., 1689–1 Feb., 1691) Pietro Ottoboni, born at Venice 1610. He obtained from I,ouis XIV the restoration of Avignon and Venaissin, but was not deterred from publishing a brief in which he condemned the Four Articles of Gallican Liberties. He is accused of nepotism.

240.-Innocent XII (12 July, 1691–27 Sept., 1700) Antonio Pignatelli, born near Naples 1615, obtained from Louis XIV the retractation of the Four Gallican Articles.

241.-Clement XI (23 Nov., 1700–19 March, 1721) Gianfrancesco Albani, born at Urbino 1649. A learned and zealous Pope, he condemned Jansenism in 1705, and again in 1715 by the Bull “ Unigenitus.”

242.-Innocent XIII (8 May, 1721–7 March, 1724) Michelangelo de Conti, born in Rome 1655.

243.-Benedict XIII (27 May, 1724–2 1 Feb., 1730) Pietro Francesco Orsini-Gravina, born at Gravina 1649, a Dominican. He restored good relations between the Holy See and the Dukes of Sardinia and Savoy, but was less fortunate with Portugal. He allowed too much influence to the infamous Cardinal Coscia.

244.-Clement XII (12 July, 1730–8 Feb., 1740) Lorenzo Corsini, born at Florence 1652, zealously aided the foreign missions, sent the Capuchins to Tibet, condemned the Jansenist Bishop of Utrecht in 1735, and Freemasonry in 1738.

245.-Benedict XIV (17 Aug., 1740–3 May, 1758) Prospero Lambertini, born at Bologna 1675. A celebrated canonist, one of the most learned of the popes.

246.-Clement XIII (6 July, 1758–2 Feb., 1769) Carlo della Torre Rezzonico, born at Venice 1693, he courageously defended the Jesuits against Pombal and the Bourbons, and confirmed the Order (1765).

247.-Clement XIV (28 May, 1769–22 Sept., 1774) Giovanni Vicenzo Antonio Ganganelli, born 1705 near Rimini. To his great sorrow he was compelled to suppress the Society of Jesus. It was restored in 1815.

248.-Pius VI (15 Feb., 1775- 29 Aug., 1799) Giovanni Angelico Braschi, born at Cesena 1717, had to fight against State interference, especially in Austria and France. The armies of the republic entered Rome, and by main force obliged the Holy Father to leave it (1798). He died in captivity at Valence.

249.-Plus VII (14 March, 1800–20 Aug., 1823) Luigi Barnabo Chiaramonti, born at Cesena 1742, Bishop of Imola, elected at Venice. He signed a concordat with France, protesting, however, against the Organic Articles which had been added to it without having been submitted to him at all. The Pope went to Paris to crown Napoleon, but energetically opposed his growing pretensions, was arrested (1809) in Rome, and kept a prisoner at Savona and Fontainebleau, re-entered Rome (1814), restored the Society of Jesus (1815), and otherwise laboured to heal the wounds of the Church.

250.-Leo XlI (28 Sept., 1823- 10 Feb., 1829) Annibale della Genga, born at Genga near Spoléto 1760; contended energetically against revolutionary ideas, reorganised the hierarchy in South America, restored many of the schismatical churches in Asia to the unity of the Faith, gave special attention to the national colleges in Rome, signed concordats with Germany, Switzerland, and the Netherlands, and condemned secret societies.

251.—Pius VIII (31 March, 1829–1 Dec., 1830) Francesco Xaverio Castiglione, born 1761 at Cingoli, in the March of Ancona; regulated the question of mixed marriages in Prussia by a brief and fought against Freemasonry. He heard with joy of the passing of the Roman Catholic Emancipation Act, during the ministry of Sir Robert Peel (1829).

252.-Gregory XVI (2 Feb., 1831–1 June, 1846) Bartolommeo Capellari, born at Belluno 1765, continually occupied with the maintenance of order in the misgoverned Papal States, where secret societies were ceaselessly at work; defended the rights of the Church in Prussia and Russian Poland; censured Lamennais, and encouraged foreign missions.

253.-Pius IX (16 June, 1846–7 Feb., 1878) Count Giovanni Maria Mastai-Ferreti, born at Sinigaglia 1792, was a Pope of great heart, if not of great mind, who sought to gain his opponents by making such concessions as he legitimately could. He was driven from Rome by the revolution, after the assassination of his minister, de Rossi (15 Nov., 1848). On his return he reorganised the Papal States, which were, however, taken from him one by one by the intrigues of Sardinia, until Rome itself fell before the invading army, 20 Sept., 1870. Pius lX defined the doctrine of the Immaculate Conception, 8 Dec., 1854, called the Vatican Council (1869), in which he defined the doctrine of Papal Infallibility, re-established the hierarchy in England (1850), and in Holland (1853). His last years were saddened by the Kultur-kampf in Germany. and the spoliation of the Church throughout the new kingdom of Italy.

254.-Leo XIII (20 Feb., 1878 -20 July, 1903) Gioacchino Vincenzo Raffaele Luigi Pecci, born at Carpineto 1810, one of the greatest statesmen the Church has had, he re-established the prestige of the Holy See in all countries, saw the end of the Kultur-kampf in Germany, and staved off the rupture of relations between the Holy See and France. In masterly encyclicals he dealt with all the problems of the time, especially with the social question (Encyclical “Rerum novarum,” 1891).

255.-St Pius X (4 Aug., 1903- 20 Aug., 1914) Giuseppe Melchiore Sarto, born at Riese, 2 July, 1835, Patriarch of Venice, a Pope of saintly life, whose aim was to restore all things in Christ.” He greatly promoted Catholic devotion to the Holy Eucharist-frequent Communion (1905), early Communion of children (1910); reformed the liturgy and the music of the Church. He had the sorrow of seeing the Concordat with France broken (1905), and condemned the Law of Separation (1906). In 1907 he condemned modernism. He died of grief at the outbreak of the European war (1914). (Canonised by Pope Pius XII).

256.-Benedict XV (3 Sept., 1914–22 Jan., 1922) Giacomo della Chiesa, born at Genoa 1854. His Pontificate was overshadowed by the horrors of the Great War (1914–18) and the difficulties of the first years of reconstruction. He worthily fulfilled his office as Father of all nations, condemning in his official writings and speeches the violation of right and justice, labouring to establish peace, and to mitigate the suffering caused by the war. In 1917 he promulgated a new code of canon law.

257—Pius XI (6 Feb., 1922- 10 Feb., 1939) Achille Ratti, born at Desio, in the Archdiocese of Milan, 31 May, 1857-The glorious Pope of the missions.” By the Lateran Treaty, 7 June, 1929, he achieved the creation of the Vatican City as a Sovereign State, thus ending the captivity of the Popes, and renewing for the Holy See the universal recognition of its temporal sovereignty and liberty.

258.-Pius XII(2 March, 1939,) Eugenio Pacelli, born at Rome 2 March, 1876. The present Pope’s great work has been his constancy in upholding, throughout the War, the inalienable rights of the human personality and of the right of the State, however small this is, to govern itself independently. This, the Pope’s perfect neutrality in politics, and his universal charity towards all who have suffered, will give him a high place in history.

259.—JOHN XXIII

260.—PAUL VI

261.—JOHN PAUL I

262.—JOHN PAUL II

NOTE:

This list differs very slightly from the list given in the Annuario Pontificio of 1904 and 1905, which was drawn up by Father

(later Cardinal) Ehrle.

It differs from the pictorial series in St Paul-without-the-Walls as follows

INCLUDED.

Leo VIII (No. 132) Sylvester III (No. 146)

Both of whom, however, we give as doubtful.

NOT INCLUDED.*

Anacletus (identified with Cletus, No. 3).

Felix II (see Liberius, No. 36).

Stephen II (see Stephen II, No. 92).

Donus II (see Benedict VI. No 134).

Alexander V (The Pope elected at Pisa)

*All these Popes are counted as certainly of invalid election, some as having never existed.

********

The Power of One Hail Mary

INDEX

HAIL, MARY, FULL OF GRACE; THE LORD IS WITH THEE; BLESSED ART THOU AMONG WOMEN, AND BLESSED IS THE FRUIT OF THY WOMB, JESUS

HOLY MARY, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death. Amen.

Millions of Catholics often say the Hail Mary. Some repeat it hastily not even thinking on the words they are saying. These following words may help some say it more thoughtfully.

They can give God’s Mother great joy and obtain for themselves graces that she wishes to give them.

One Hail Mary well said fills the heart of Our Lady with delight and obtains for us indescribably great graces. One Hail Mary well said gives us more graces than a thousand thoughtlessly said.

The Hail Mary is like a mine of gold that we can always take from but never exhaust.

Is it hard to say the Hail Mary well? All we have to do is to know its value and understand its meaning.

St. Jerome tells us that “the truths contained in the Hail Mary are so sublime, so wonderful that no man or Angel could fully understand them.”

St. Thomas Aquinas, the Prince of Theologians, “the wisest of Saints and holiest of wise men,” as Leo XIII called him, preached for 40 days in Rome on the Hail Mary, filling his hearers with rapture.

Father F. Suarez, the holy and learned Jesuit, declared when dying that he would willingly give all the many learned books he wrote, all his life’s labors, for the merit of one Hail Mary prayerfully and devoutly said.

St. Mechtilde, who loved our Lady very much, was one day striving to compose a beautiful prayer in her honor. Our Lady appeared to her, with the golden letters on her breast of: “Hail Mary full of grace.” She said to her: “Desist, dear child, from your labor for no prayer you could possibly compose would give me the joy and delight of the Hail Mary.”

A certain man found joy in saying slowly the Hail Mary. The Blessed Virgin in return appeared to him smiling and announced to him the day and hour that he should die, granting him a most holy and happy death.

After death a beautiful white lily grew from his mouth having written on its petals: “Hail Mary.”

Cesarius recounts a similar incident. A humble and holy monk lived in the monastery. His poor mind and memory were so weak that he could only repeat one prayer which was the “Hail Mary.” After death a tree grew over his grave and on all its leaves was written: “Hail Mary.”

These beautiful legends show us how much devotion to Our Lady was valued, and the power attributed to the Hail Mary devoutly prayed.

Each time that we say the Hail Mary we are repeating the very same words with which St. Gabriel the Archangel saluted Mary on the day of the Annunciation, when she was made Mother of the Son of God.

Many graces and joys filled the soul of Mary at that moment.

Now when we say the Hail Mary we offer anew all these graces and joys to Our Lady and she accepts them with Immense delight.

In return she gives us a share in these joys.

Once Our Lord asked St. Francis Assisi to give Him something. The Saint replied: “Dear Lord, I can give You nothing for I have already given you all, all my love.”

Jesus smiled and said: “Francis, give Me it all again and again, it will give Me the same pleasure.”

So with our dearest Mother, she accepts from us each time we say the Hail Mary the joys and delight she received from the words of St. Gabriel.

Almighty God gave His Blessed Mother all the dignity, greatness and holiness necessary to make her His own most perfect Mother.

But He also gave her all the sweetness, love, tenderness and affection necessary to make her our most loving Mother. Mary is truly and really our Mother.

As children when in trouble run to their mothers for help, so ought we to run at once with unbounded confidence to Mary.

St. Bernard and many Saints said that it was never, never heard at any time or in any place that Mary refused to hear the prayers of her children on earth.

Why do we not realize this most consoling truth? Why refuse the love and consolation that God’s Sweet Mother is offering us?

Is it our lamentable ignorance which deprives us of such help and consolation.

To love and trust Mary is to be happy on earth now and afterwards to be happy in Heaven.

Dr. Hugh Lammer was a staunch Protestant, with strong prejudices against the Catholic Church.

One day he found an explanation of the Hail Mary and read it. He was so charmed with it that he began to say it daily. Insensibly all his anti-Catholic animosity began to disappear. He became a Catholic, a holy priest and a professor of Catholic Theology in Breslau.

A priest was called to the bedside of a man who was dying in despair because of his sins.

Yet he refused obstinately to go to confession. As a last recourse the priest asked him to say at least the Hail Mary after which the poor man made a sincere confession and died a holy death.

In England, a parish priest was asked to go and see a Protestant lady who was gravely ill, and who wished to become a Catholic.

Asked if she had ever gone to a Catholic Church, or, if she had spoken to Catholics, or if she had read Catholic books? She replied, “No, no.”

All she could remember was that-when a child-she had learned from a little Catholic neighbor girl the Hail Mary, which she said every night. She was Baptized and before dying had the happiness of seeing her husband and children baptized.

St. Gertrude tells us in her book, “Revelations” that when we thank God for the graces He has given to any Saint, we get a great share of those particular graces.

What graces, then, do we not receive when we say the Hail Mary while thanking God for all the unspeakable graces He has given His Blessed Mother?

WITH ECCLESIASTICAL APPROVAL.

“ . . . One Ave Maria [Hail Mary] said without sensible fervor, but with a pure will in a time of aridity, has muc h more value in my sight than an entire Rosary recited in the midst of consolations.”

-The Blessed Mother to Sr. Benigna Consolata Ferrero

“The holy and learned Jesuit, Father Suarez, was so deeply aware of the value of the Angelic Salutation [Hail Mar y] that he said that he would gladly give all his learning for the price of one Hail Mary that had been said properly.”

-St. Louis De Montfort, The Secret of the Rosary, p. 48

********

The Power of The Green Scapular

ANNONYMOUS

INDEX

OUR LADY OF FATIMA HAS PROMISED HER HELP TO THOSE WHO, FOLLOWING THE DIVINE WILL CLEARLY EXPRESSED IN THESE APPARITIONS, HAVE CONFIDENT RECOURSE IN THE IMMACULATE HEART OF MARY. HAVING NOT A MOMENT’S DOUBT ABOUT HER PROMISED HELP ON THE ONE HAND, AND ON THE OTHER SEEING HOW LITTLE IS DONE ABOUT THE WISHES OF GOD AND OUR LADY, IT IS MY DESIRE TO DO EVERYTHING I CAN SO THAT AT LEAST THAT WHICH HAS AFFECTED ME AS A CATHOLIC AND A RELIGIOUS SISTER MIGHT ENCOURAGE SOULS TO TURN WITH CONFIDENCE TO THE IMMACULATE HEART OF MARY, AND THUS, THROUGH MY “LITTLE GRAIN OF SAND,” ADD TO THE PROPAGATION OF THIS MARVELLOUS DEVOTION.

With this in mind, when I heard of the great need in which two souls found themselves, I had recourse to the intercession of the Immaculate Heart. It concerned a young man, just married. About a month into his marriage he fell ill with pneumonia from which he recovered, more or less, though only for a short time. Two or three months later he caught a viral infection in the brain which did not leave him much hope of survival, and his state became increasingly fragile. It is not difficult to imagine the consternation and the pain of his young wife, who had not known that the real cause of his condition was AIDS, and that it was possible that she was infected with it.

Since the man’s condition was already very bad, a priest was brought to him who, as is usual, offered him the Sacraments of Confession and Extreme Unction. Knowing his culpability, he refused them although he was still capable of confessing his sins.

Shortly afterwards he lost the use of speech. His exterior comportment manifested clearly the state of his soul, filling his family and all who saw him with deep pain. Expressions of panic, terror and despair passed across his face, a true interior martyrdom at seeing himself face to face with death and with a conscience soiled by the double sin of what he had done to infect himself with this frightful illness, and the crime of not having warned his spouse, living with her the normal life of a married man whilst putting her life at risk as well.

It was then, when I had learned of all this, that I had recourse to the intercession of our gentle Mother and her Immaculate Heart, making greater use of prayer and using the GREEN SCAPULAR, known also as the SCAPULAR OF THE IMMACULATE HEART. I have complete confidence in this miraculous scapular because, besides having been given to us by the Blessed Virgin herself, it works miracles through the intercession of the Immaculate Heart which, as we know, is the devotion DESIRED BY GOD for our times.

Even though I did not doubt its efficacy I nonetheless asked for it to be applied as quickly as possible to the sick man.

Since there was a delay in doing this I wrote to the young wife insisting strongly that it be placed by him as soon as possible, adding, “don’t be surprised if you see miracles” since I had already asked for them from from Our Lady, saying to her, “I know that you always hear me, my gentle Mother, and I do not doubt your intercession, but permit that this time I ask you for a miracle that may be shown to others. I know that the GREEN SCAPULAR does not fail if it is used with confidence in the humble instruments of salvation given to us by your maternal Heart. For this, for the glory of God and your Immaculate Heart, and for the salvation of many souls, grant me this miracle of conversion, so that I may be of use to him and that poor souls may be encouraged to be confident. If you so wish, pay a visit to this poor son of yours, but in such a way that the others realise what is happening and that you are there.

Shortly afterwards, I had some news.

The sick man became very ill, having vomited and been in great agitation. The priest was again called in, who this time placed the GREEN SCAPULAR on him and gave him Extreme Unction. With this, the man fell peacefully asleep. During the night he woke up. He seemed very happy, his eyes were luminous and fixed on a precise point in the room, he seemed to be speaking with someone since he answered questions (something he had not been able to do for some time), sometimes he smiled or wept with great emotion. His mother and sisters (people very far from God) who were present realised that something supernatural was taking place, even though they could see nothing, and they too wept with emotion.

After all this the state of the sick man, particularly the state of his soul, changed completely. There was no longer the former terror or panic visible in his face, but rather a great peace and happiness. His health, even though not entirely restored, was much better. The attitude of his mother and sisters was completely different; now they prayed willingly, made sure his scapulars were well arranged, etc. When his wife learned of what had happened, she was entirely convinced that Our Lady had come to visit him. Later on she asked the sick man: Did Our Lady come to see you?

Yes, he replied with an expression of happiness.

Are you going to get better?

No, he added, but also with an expression of tranquillity. He wanted to say what Our Lady had said to him, but he could no longer speak. Just from time to time he could be heard saying things like, “be strong,” “the grace of God,” etc.

My letter finally reached the woman the day following all these events (I had told no-one of my prayer to Our Lady), and she was able to tell me afterwards: “You told me I must not be surprised if I see miracles with the Green Scapular. I believe the miracle has already taken place, not so much in his body as in his soul.” Let us pray that, after a good preparation, his soul goes and unites itself with God and contemplates for all eternity she who granted him the great grace of conversion and peace of soul. Immaculate Virgin, may this account be for the greater glory of God and your glory; and by confidence in the marvellous intercession through the GREEN SCAPULAR, may many souls be saved.

“IMMACULATE HEART OF MARY, PRAY FOR US SINNERS, NOW AND AT THE HOUR OF OUR DEATH. AMEN.”

AVE COR MARIAE.

The Priest of The Miraculous Medal

FATHER ALADEL, C.M

BY M. J. EGAN

INDEX

I

FATHER ALADEL was born at Les Termes, in the department of Cantal, Southern France, the 4th May 1800. It was fitting that he should be born in the month of Mary as he was one day to become one of her most devoted servants. He received at his baptism the names John Mary; the former after the “the beloved disciple,” the latter in honour of Our Lady.

His father was a small farmer who had to work hard to support his family. As the children grew up they assisted him in the farm work. The same field was sometimes used partly for tillage and partly for grazing, so someone had. always to be present when the cattle were turned in to graze on the pasture, to prevent them from trespassing on the tillage. This was John’s duty, and as he was engaged on the work for hours at a stretch, his father gave him religious books to read, among which were the lives of the saints of his own country. His days were spent in ideal surroundings. He had only to lift his eyes from his books to see the beauty of Nature everywhere- a reflex of the uncreated beauty of Nature’s God. In the month of May for which he had a special love, the orchards were white with blossoms, “the fragrant snow of spring,” and the, cream and rose blossoms of the horse-chestnut, crowded close together, reminded him of the array of candles on the High Altar for Benediction. All around him a great silence reigned, broken only by the occasional bleating of sheep, the lowing of cattle, or the song of birds. He loved the silence and the peace of the great open spaces where the zephyrs blew; causing the growing corn to bend gracefully as if bowing in lowly reverence and homage to its Creator.

The Aladel family lived in frugal comfort. In the home, which was furnished with artistic French taste, there was order and cleanliness. Outside, the roses clambered over trellised arbours, and the lilac and laburnum perfumed the neatly kept garden.

John’s parents were good, pious Catholics, whose great aim was to encourage their children by word and example in the practice of their holy faith. During-the long winter evenings the father taught them their prayers and instructed them in Christian doctrine, and the work of the day was brought to a close by the recitation of the Family Rosary. It was in this ideal Catholic home and in this religious atmosphere that John Aladel was brought up. Here was laid the foundation of those eminent virtues and qualities for which in after-life he was distinguished. The leading characteristics of his boyhood days were his great devotion to Our Lady (he was often seen saying the Rosary on his way to and from the fields), his love of reading spiritual books, his studious habits, and his love of solitude.

He received his elementary education at Saint-Flëur, a few miles from his own home. Here he made his First Communion for which he had prepared with great diligence, earnestness and piety. He always looked back on the day of his First Communion as the happiest day of his life. He then consecrated himself to Mary Immaculate. It must be remembered that the dogma of the Immaculate Conception had not then been defined. During this period his vocation for the priesthood was clearly shown, and his whole aim was to acquire the knowledge that would be necessary and useful to him as a priest. He attained brilliant success as a student, and his talents were acknowledged by all, yet he was never known to boast. He was thoughtful and serious, but not dour and was a general favourite. The habit of concentration, which he cultivated, contributed much to his success.

Having graduated with distinction in the preparatory school, he was admitted to the Diocesan Seminary, which was also situated in Saint-Fleur, in the month of November, 1817. Four years later, when he was in the second year of the theology course, an event occurred which changed the whole course of his life. Having read the life of St. Vincent de Paul, he began to evince an interest in the Congregation of the Mission.

Gradually, young Aladel’s interest in the Congregation increased, and rightly regarding a vocation to the religious life as a favour that must be merited, he prayed every day to the Blessed Virgin to obtain for him the grace of admission to the Congregation of the Mission. In return for such a great favour, he promised to serve her more faithfully all his life. His desire to enter the Congregation was greatly increased, when he learned that the Children of St. Vincent de Paul had from the beginning a particular and special devotion to the Immaculate Conception. After a period of prolonged and anxious consideration, he decided to ask for admission, and had now to face the practical difficulties following on that decision. In order to obtain the permission of his Bishop it was necessary to advance weighty reasons for his action, but to the credit of the Bishop, it must be stated that he placed no obstacles in the way of this young man, who was obviously actuated by the highest motives. So, Our Lady, to whom he committed his cause, enabled him to surmount all difficulties.

There was, however, a further and more painful trial in store for him. He had come to this decision without consulting his parents. He knew that his departure from Saint Fleur to Paris, would be a cause of great disappointment to them. It was their dearest wish to have him a priest in his own diocese, and to accomplish this, they were prepared to make great sacrifices. It grieved him to disappoint his parents whom he dearly loved, but he felt bound to respond to the call of God, so clear and unmistakable. “Follow Me sounded in his ears, and it was a matter of duty for him to obey that call. Distressed at disappointing his parents he confided his troubles to a fellow-student and friend. To his surprise, he found that his friend had also decided to ask for admission {o the Congregation of the Mission, and was experiencing the same difficulties as he himself. They made no hasty decision, but prayed to God for light and guidance. They also consulted their superiors, and, finally, with their approval, it was decided that the two students should write to their respective families, and inform them of” their resolution. This was accordingly done and, without seeing their parents again, they set out for the Mother-House of the Congregation, St. Lazare, Paris, where they were received on the 12th November, 1821.

II. A SON OF ST. VINCENT

Aladel’s first impressions of the Mother-House were not favourable. There was no chapel, and the studies were badly organised. This condition of things can be accounted for by the fact that France was only then recovering from the disastrous effects of the French Revolution and the Napoleonic wars. In 1790 the Congregation of the Mission was, like all other religious communities, suppressed and the priests expelled. Some were put to death, others donned lay attire and went into hiding, and some escaped to foreign countries. It was only in 1804 that the survivors, few in number and old, crept back timidly from their hiding places to resume the work which had been so rudely interrupted. They did not return to the old Mother-House knownas” St. Lazare,” but to new premises in the Rue de Sevres which lacked the facilities of the old establishment. This explains the disorganisation which existed when John Aladel arrived at the new Mother-House, which was also dedicated to St. Lazare.

Some of the students, disheartened, returned home. Not so young Aladel, whose strong, resolute character would not allow the first breath of adversity to divert him from his purpose. He faced all difficulties and overcame them. Bringing to his studies the same sustained effort that distinguished him at Saint-Fluer he met with the same success. After two years study he was allowed to take the four Community Vows—Poverty, Chastity, Obedience and Stability—and his joy was complete when, in 1824, he was ordained priest. Henceforth, we shall know him as Father Aladel.

Had his own personal wishes been consulted, he would have expressed a preference for Missionary work, but he was appointed, instead, Professor of Philosophy in the Seminary at Amiens. At the end of a year however, he was recalled to the Mother-House and the opportunity, for which he longed, was given to him-he was sent on the Missions. For the Apostolic work now entrusted to him, he had long prepared, with his customary thoroughness and efficiency. He who would sanctify others must himself be sanctified, and Father Aladel had sanctified himself by prayer and mortification. . The beauty of his interior life and his deep spirituality are revealed in the following extract taken from notes which he had written for his own guidance.

“I will practise humility, re pressing promptly all thoughts of pride and vanity, opposing them by sentiments of selfcontempt. To God alone be the glory of my works, and of my sufferings, I will devote myself to the humble submission of my will in perfect obedience to my superiors, and to an exact observance of the Rule. I want to find my happiness in being forgotten by creatures; to study my defects, in order to correct them; and to know my innumerable weaknesses, so as to feel humble. I will do all for the love of Jesus and Mary.”

His success as a missioner was phenomenal; nevertheless at the end of a year he was recalled to the Mother-House and at the early age of twenty-eight he was appointed Spiritual Director to the Sisters of Charity in the Rue du Bac. As Director, he had certain fixed principles to which he faithfully adhered. His method was to guide his penitent, not by extraordinary means, but by making her reach perfection along the ordinary road of service of the poor, for there is but” one royal road to Heaven, the way of the cross. He was distrustful of anything that was out of the ordinary. It is well to bear these facts in mind in view of subsequent events.

He celebrated Mass at an early hour each morning, in the chapel of—the Rue du Bac, and then walked back to St. Lazare, where he heard confessions until 11.30 am. It was usually mid-day before he broke his fast. He conducted spiritual exercises in the various houses of the Sisters in Paris, and attended Conferences at St. Lazare. He regarded time as so precious that he did not wish to avail even of the recreation hour, and it was only under obedience that he joined his confreres during, the short period of relaxation. His love of solitude and silence was such that, when not engaged on his priestly duties he retired to his own room for study and prayer. He seemed to have constantly before his mind the maxims laid down. By St. John of the Cross:

“Wisdom enters through love, silence and mortification.”

“Keep silence and have continual converse with God.”

“Walk in silence with God.”

Leading such an active, busy life, how could he observe silence? He did so by setting apart a sanctuary in his heart, which he consecrated to silence. The door of that sanctuary was closely curtained, so as to exclude the least possible sound from the outside world, and within it he conversed continually with God, without fear of distraction or interruption. Freed from things of earth, his soul soared to heavenly heights and traveled far on the path of Christian perfection.

It was no wonder then that this young chaplain, so recollected and grave, so earnest and zealous, so austere and holy, gained the respect and confidence of his spiritual subjects. It seemed indeed as if he were specially raised up by God to accomplish some great mission in the world. And so it was.

III. FATHER ALADEL’S MISSION

Father Aladel, as chaplain, took an active part in the processions and religious ceremonies connected with thetransfer of the holy relics of St. Vincent on the 25th April, 1830, from the Community Chapel in the Rue du Bac to the new Vincentian Church in the Rue de Sèvres. One of the religious exercises was a Novena conducted in the latter church.

The Novena had only just ended when a young novice came to Father Aladel and related to him a very wonderful story. The name of the novice was Catherine Labouré, who had arrived at the Mother-House on the 21st April. She said that she had seen the heart of St. Vincent in the Community Chapel on three consecutive days during the Novena above the place where the relics had rested. On the last day of the Novena she again saw the heart, and she understood that great misfortunes would overwhelm France; that the King would be deposed but that the two Vincentian communities would be preserved from harm. Her Director, who was noted for his prudence, told the novice that this was a delusion and advised her to banish all such thoughts from her mind.

But Divine favours to Catherine did not cease. On Trinity Sunday Our Saviour appeared to her during Mass as a King with a cross on His breast. At the reading of the Gospel the cross slipped to His feet and all His kingly jewels fell from Him. She understood from this that the King of France would be dethroned. She again went to her Director and informed him of this revelation, but he only repeated his previous advice that it was a delusion. He began to have fear for the sanity of this young visionary.

Father Aladel heard nothing more from Catherine until she came to tell him of further revelations made to her on the night of the 18th July. She told him that the Blessed Virgin had appeared to her in the chapel and conversed with her for two hours, during which Our Lady said that a mission would be entrusted to her; that she should tell her Director everything; that she would see certain things, and that she should give an account of them to him. Our Lady also revealed to her that misfortunes were about to overwhelm France, that the throne would be destroyed, and that the whole world would be convulsed by manifold calamities. Father Aladel listened to her story with coldness and indifference; again told her that it was a delusion or dream, and sternly advised her to think no more about it. The fact that the King was dethroned on the 30th July did not shake Father Aladel’s unbelief.

Months passed and the Director thought that the incident of the revelations had closed. To his surprise, however, Catherine came to him again with an account of another vision which took place on the evening of the 27th November. She told him that she was in the chapel for the evening meditation when she again saw the Blessed Virgin in the Sanctuary. There appeared about Our Lady an oval on which was written in letters of gold: “O Mary, conceived without sin, pray for us who have recourse to thee.” On the reverse side was the monogram of the Blessed Virgin composed of the letter “M” surmounted by a cross with a bar at its base, and under the “M” were the two hearts of Jesus and Mary: one was encircled by a crown of thorns and the other pierced by a sword.

A voice said to Catherine: “Have a medal struck after this model. All who wear it will receive great graces, especially if they wear it suspended round the neck. Graces will be showeredon all who wear it with confidence.”

But Father Aladel did not believe this story either, and repeated the same advice as before. After a time, however, there were signs of weakening in his opposition, for one day he asked his young penitent was there any writing on the reverse side of themedal. She replied that she had not seen any writing. “Then,” said he, “ask the Blessed Virgin what she wishes to be inscribed on it.” Catherine promised that she would do so, and after some days she heard during the meditation an interior voice saying::

“The ‘M’and the two Hearts say enough.” She duly informed her Director, but he still took no action.

At the end of her year’s novitiate, Catherine was transferred to the Enghien Hospice for old men; but Father Aladel still remained her Director as he was chaplain to that institution also. Seven months passed and nothing was done. Then one day Our Lady informed Catherine that she was displeased because her commands were not carried out. “But dear Mother,” said the Sister, “you see he (the Director) does not believe me.” “Do not fear,” was the reply, the day will come when he will do what I desire, for he is my servant and he would not wish to displease me.”

When the Director heard this be was very much troubled and said to himself : “if Mary is displeased, it cannot be with the young Sister, who in her position is powerless to do anything, so it must be with me.”

In these circumstances he could no longer take on himself the responsibility of rejecting the communications made to him by his penitent. So he consulted his Superior, Father Etienne, without however disclosing the name of the Sister, who desired to remain unknown. It was then decided that such an important matter should be submitted to the Archbishop. Accordingly the two priests called on Monsignor De Quelen, Archbishop of Paris, to whom a detailed account of the visions was given. Having listened with great interest to the wonderful story, His Grace said that he could see no objection to having the medal struck, as it was in no way opposed to the Catholic Faith. On the contrary it was conformable to the devotion of the faithful to Our Lady that he felt it would contribute to her honour, and he requested to have some of the medals sent to him.

Ecclesiastical authority having now been obtained, Father Aladel took steps to have the medal struck. The was however, considerable delay, and it was not until the end of June, 1832, that the first lot of 2,000 medals was received. The Director gave one of the medals with his own hand to Catherine as if to make an amende honorable to her of his prolonged opposition. Her only remark was: “It must now be propagated.”

As requested, some of the medals were sent to Monsignor De Quelen, who was then much troubled about the spiritual condition of Monsignör De Pradt, an Archbishop who had fallen into serious error and had incurred the penalty of excommunication. His Grace had done all in his power by prayer and personal appeal to secure Mgr. De Pradt’s conversion, but without avail. So when he received the medals he determined to make a final attempt to reconcile the wanderer to the Church. Taking, one of the medals he went to visit him, but was refused admission and returned home. Soon afterwards he received a message requesting him to return, and the Archbishop again went to De Pradt’s house where he was received with courtesy and respect. The unhappy man retracted all his errors, expressed deep sorrow for the scandal he had caused, and was there and then reconciled to the Church. Later the same evening he received the Last Sacraments and died that very night in the arms of the Archbishop. This, a death-bed repentance, is the first miracle attributed to the medal. His Grace informed Father Aladel at once.

There was now no longer any room for doubt or hesitation. The medal must be made known to the public, so Father Aladel wrote a pamphlet in which he gave a detailed account of its origin without in any way indicating the Sister to whom Our Lady had appeared. The book was eagerly read and in the first year alone six editions were published. A tree picture of the rapid spread of the medal may be obtained from the following extract from his book: “The medals of the Immaculate Conception were propagated in a truly marvellous manner, among all classes and in all provinces. We receivedthe most consoling accounts from every side. “They are reviving fervour in both town and country, we are assured by priests, themselves filled with the spirit of God; while distinguished prelates testified to their sure confidence in these medals which they looked on as a means designed by Providence to revive the enfeebled faith of our country. And truly they are reawakening it day by day in many hearts in which it seemed extinct. They are restoring peace and unity in families rent with discord; in fact, none of those who wear them fails to feel their salutary effect. In all parts of France there appears a growing eagerness among the faithful of all ages and conditions to procure the miraculous medal. Indifferent Christians, hardened sinners, Protestants, unbelievers, the Jews themselves, beg for it, receive it with delight, and wear it with devotion. Nor is it propagated in France alone; it has spread rapidly over Switzerland, Italy, Spain, Belgium, England; America, the East, reaching as far even as China. In Naples, no sooner was it known than the Cathedral chapter made application for it at one of our houses; the King had a number struck in silver for himself and his court and family, and ordered a million for distribution during the outbreak of cholera, with the result that it is held in honour in nearly every house and many of the churches. In Rome the Generals of the Religious Orders took an active part in the propaganda, while the Holy Father himself placed the medal at the foot of the crucifix and gave it to people as a special token of his blessing.”

It is, perhaps, desirable” at this stage to be clear as to the precise meaning of the word “miracle.” A miracle may be defined as a wonderful thing performed by supernatural power as a sign of some special mission or gift and explicitly ascribed to God. St. Thomas Aquinas teachesthat “those effects are rightly to be termed miracles which are wrought by Divine power apart from the order usually observed in nature, and they are apart from the natural order because they are beyond the order or laws of the whole created nature.”

In the Christian view of the world miracles have a place and a meaning. They arise out of the personal relation between God and man, and are so interwoven with our religion, so connected with its origin, its promulgation, its progress, and its whole history that it is impossible to separate them from it. Beyond the sphere of nature there is another realm of existence peopled by spiritual beings and departed souls. Both realms are under the over-ruling Providence of God. A miracle is a factor in the Providence of God over men. Hence, the Glory of God and the good of men are the primary and supreme ends of every miracle.

In the Scriptures and Church history we learn that inanimate objects are instruments of Divine power, not because they have any excellence in themselves, but through a special relation to God. Thus we see that the medal, an inanimate object having no excellence in itself, is made an instrument of Divine power. The miracle is due to the intervention of God, and its nature is revealed by the utter lack of proportion between the effect and what are called means or instruments.

IV. OTHER HEAVENLY MISSIONS

The work accomplished by Father Aladel in connection with the introduction and propagation of the. Miraculous Medal was so immense and so far-reaching in its results, that his labours in other directions are apt to be overlooked. He was in fact entrusted with two other Missions

(1) To restore the Rule to its original rigour;

(2) To found an Association to be known as “the Association of the Children of Mary Immaculate.” On the occasion of the first apparition, Our Blessed Lady said to Sister Catherine:

“Tell him who directs you that, though he will not be Superior, he will one day be charged, in a particular manner with the Community, and he is to do his utmost to restore the Rule in all its rigour. When the Rule has been restored, another Community will wish to be united to yours. This is against the ordinary custom, but that Community is dear to me, so tell them to receive it. God will bless the union and all will enjoy a great peace and the Community will increase.”

Sister Catherine duly informed Father Aladel that Our” Lady wished to entrust the mission to him and enumerated the reforms that Our Lady desired. It may be asked what was the cause of the non-observance of the Rule? It must be remembered that we are dealing with the year 1830. The Community had passed through all the horrors of the French Revolution. One would have thought that the Sisters would have been spared, but, in the eyes of the Revolutionaries they were guilty of one great crime: they stood for religion, and therefore they could not be tolerated. Hence they were driven from their convents and hospitals, but their love for the poor was such that they had assumed lay attire and thus disguised, they carried on their blessed work. In these circumstances community life was rendered practically impossible and therefore the Rule could not be observed. By 1830, however, conditions had become normal and the time seemed to be ripe for a return to the primitive spirit of the Community.

The strict observance of the Rule was, indeed, in harmony with Father Aladel’s own wishes, and he lost no time in placing the matter before his Superior, Father Etienne who warmly approved of the reforms suggested. Sometime afterwards Father Etienne was appointed Superior-General, and during his term of office, he introduced the reforms, and in that task he received the co-operation and whole-hearted support of Father Aladel. We can see the loyal spirit in which the reforms were accepted by the Community by the following extract from a letter written by a Sister at that time:

“It seemed as if we had returned to the time when our Saintly Mother, Louise de Marillac, under our holy Founder, laid the foundation of the Community. The direction of our Superiors, inspired by the tender love of the Divine Master, was gladly followed by the Sisters of Charity, who without question, submitted to all their desires. In the Mother-House, the fervour, recollection, and harmony which reigned shone in all the happyfaces.”

It will thus be seen that the introduction of the reforms was accompanied by a renewal of the spirit of the Founders. It was a second Spring. There abides in the Church the Divine gift of perpetual youth. With her it is always Spring, and her vitality is such that she continually puts forth fresh shoots of devotion and charity, age after age. The Spring belongs as of right not only to the Church at large, but to the life of every individual Catholic. It is the life of grace, and if we could only see it, there is a perpetual burgeoning of new life which is not restricted to a particular time, as, for instance, Retreats, but is present with every worthy reception of the Sacraments. There is a perpetual renovation of our nature, if we could only catch the hour of grace, utilize it, and make it our very own. What fair flowers bloomed in the Community during this second Spring. Let Father Etienne himself tell us:

“The Congregation of the Mission increased and developed. On their part the Sisters of Charit y were still more remarkably favoured by a wonderful prosperity, for, in the greatest shrines of Christendom no greater privileges were bestowed than in their humble Chapel, consecrated by the august Presence of the Queen of Heaven. There, a great number of girls, irresistibly attracted, went to be clothed under the eyes of Mary Immaculate, in, the habit of the Servants of the poor, and then, as valiant soldiers, they went forth to far-distant lands, their heroism and devotedness causing great exultation to the Church and wonder to the world.

A Community of Sisters of Charity, founded in the United States by Mother Elizabeth Seton, who was beatified in 1941, was anxious to unite with the French Sisters of St. Vincent de Paul, and as far back as 1810, arrangements had been made to bring about the union. Difficulties, however, were placed in the way by the French Government of the day, and the negotiations were in consequence abandoned. However, in 1849, the matter was again taken up, and, early, in 1850, the union was happily effected. On the 25th March of that year, the Feast of the Annunciation, the American Sisters renewed their vows, for the first time, with the formula used by the French Sisters, and on the 8th December, the Feast of the Immaculate Conception, the American Sisters assumed the habit and white Cornette of The French Sisters, thus completing the union. The prophetic words of Our Lady were thus fully verified. The part played by Father Aladel in bringing about the reforms so earnestly desired by Our Lady has been gracefully acknowledged by Father Etienne, Superior-General. In a letter to the heads of the Community, announcing the death of that devoted priest, he stated, “He has been to me what Father Portail was to Saint Vincent. If the former took a large part in the work of the foundation of your Community by Our Blessed Father, Father Aladel did not render me less cooperation in the great work of its restoration, and of its return to the primitive spirit.

I cannot refrain from saying this to you.”

In one of the written accounts of the Apparitions, Sister Catherine stated:

“One day I remember saying “Father Aladel, the Blessed Virgin has another Mission for you. She wishes you to begin an Order. You are to be its Founder and Director. It is to be an Association of Children of Mary Immaculate. The Blessed Virgin will bestow many graces on it, and Indulgences will be granted to it, It will be a great joy to her.”

It will be observed that no indication was given respecting the persons who were to be enrolled in this Association, nor how it was to be constituted. One thing only was known- the members were to be called “Children of Mary Immaculate.” Everything else was left to the holy Founder; he was to exercise his own judgment and discretion to try to discover by prayer God’s Will in the matter. For a long time he had been anxious to find some means of protecting the innocence of the young girls, who, on leaving the schools of the Sisters, took up positions in offices, workshops, factories, etc. Here, in the big city of Paris, their faith -and morals were exposed to great danger. Many of them had lost contact with the Sisters, and there was no one to take any interest in their spiritual welfare. Father Aladel was well aware that many fell away, and this grieved his heart. Here then was a means inspired by heaven, to remedy the evil -an Association which would bind the girls together in one large family, under the protection of Mary Immaculate. This wise and prudent Director would arrive at no hasty decision, but having carefully thought out the matter, he placed his views before his Superior and friend, Father Etienne, who warmly approved of them, and encouraged him to proceed with the good work. Of course, he had difficulties to contend with, but he faced them with quiet confidence and ultimately overcame all obstacles.

His first care was to draw up Statutes and Rules for the government of the Association, which he placed under the special protection of Mary Immaculate, in whose honour it was founded. He explained that exterior honour is not sufficient: that the truest honour consists in imitating her virtues, especially her angelic purity, her profound humility, her perfect obedience, and her incomparable charity. He decided that he would begin with the girls attending the schools conducted by the Sisters. The task he set himself was, not to prepare them for the Cloister, but to safeguard them against the snares and pit-falls of the world. They would be no longer like the proverbial bundle of sticks, easily broken, when separated, but they would be bound together in sweet bonds by Mary Immaculate, and in that unity they would be unbreakable. They were to meet every Sunday for the recitation of the Little Office of the Immaculate Conception, and perform the other spiritual exercises, as required by the Rules. Not every girl would be enrolled, but only those who were deemed worthy. At the Reception, which would he a solemn religious function, they would be invested with the Miraculous Medal attached to a Blue Ribbon which would be worn round the neck. In due course they would leave school and go out into the world to take up positions, or to return to their homes. This would be the testing time. Would they be faithful to their promises and good resolutions? Would they continue amid the distractions of the world the spiritual exercises to which they were accustomed in the school? In short, would they remain faithful Children of Mary? Happily, the success of the new Association exceeded all expectations, and gave great joy and consolation to the heart of its founder and director. By their exemplary conduct, their robust Catholic Faith, their Christian virtues, their charity, and their good works, they exercised a profound influence on all with whom they came in contact. They were in the world, but not of it. They were as a light shining in the midst of the darkness of materialism, irreligious and unbelief. Quietly, firmly, without ostentation, they held aloft the torch of Faith, and amid an appalling spiritual desolation, they were living witnesses to the joy, and peace, and beauty, of the full Catholic life. Their aim was personal holiness, but it was never interpreted in a narrow, self-centred piety, but was animated by an all embracing charity which sought every opportunity to win souls for God, and thus to extend His Kingdom on earth. In this way they exercised a veritable Apostolate, and may be regarded as pioneers of Catholic Action.

The years passed: the Association grew and prospered.

There was only one thing now needed to ensure its permanence and future success, the approval of the Holy Father, and Canonical sanction. This was sought in 1847 by Father Etienne, then Superior-General. On 20th. June of that year in a private audience granted to him by the Holy Father(Pope Pius IX) he requested “the power to establish in the schools conducted by the Sisters of Charity, an Association of the Most Holy and Immaculate Virgin, with the same Indulgence as had been granted to the Children of Mary established in Rome, for boys in the colleges under the Society of Jesus.” His Holiness readily granted the faculties and indulgence requested, and he himself signed the Brief, as a special mark of favour.

A few years later (19th July, 1850) Father Etienne again approached the Holy Father to solicit power to enroll in the Association the boys in the Vincentian Colleges, and also those attending the schools of the Sisters. His Holiness graciously granted this favour also. A further step in its development took place in 1876, when the Association was extended by Papal Authority to include young girls, not attending the schools, who were members of clubs established by the Sisters. Nor was this all, for, on 25th March, 1931, the Holy Father gave permission for the establishment of the Association in every parish and Institution, when requested by the Parish Priest or Chaplain. It is, therefore, world wide now.

Such, in brief, is the story of the origin, growth and present position of the “Association of Children of Mary Immaculate.” From its humble beginnings in the school of the Sisters in Paris, it had grown by 1933 to an active membership of 200,000. Did not Our Lady say that she would bestow many graces on it? In that promise and its fulfilment, we find the secret of the success of the Association which characterized it, from its very inception.

Father Aladel addressed the Children of Mary shortly before his death, in the Chapel of the Apparitions, Rue du Bac. He little thought that he was speaking to them for the last time, as he then appeared to be in his usual good health. Nevertheless, the address reads like a valedictory one, as if he had some premonition of his approaching end. It was fitting that his last meeting of the Children of Mary should be held in this privileged Chapel, for it was here that Our Lady commissioned Sister Catherine to convey to Father Aladel her wish to found this Association. So, in this hallowed sanctuary, they were to hear his striking address, which in part, has been preserved for us. It is as follows:

“My good children, I speak to you in the name of Our Lord, and to the glory of Mary, and it is not only to you I speak, but to all existing Associations, and I say to all:

You are objects of admiration, not only to God and His Angels, but to the whole world, which has a right to expect in you piety, modesty and every good example. In the midst of scandals and corruption of the world, in the midst of temptations and dangers, guard and save your souls; maintain purity of sentiment, treasure your innocence and keep up a tender devotion to Mary. Under the mantle of the Immaculate Virgin, exercise your spirit by the study of her virtues, and your heart by a love for them, with a holy ambition to acquire and imitate them. Ask her particularly for the virtue which each one of you knows is most necessary for you. Thus only will you be Children of Mary in time and eternity.”

The words we have quoted bear testimony to the marvellous success of the Association, of which he was the founder the law-maker and the Director. That testimony has been confirmed by the highest authority on earth- the Vicar of Christ. Children of Mary to the number of 7,000 flocked to Rome from all parts of the world for the Beatification of Sister Catherine, and on the following day (29th May, 1933) the Holy Father (Pius XI) addressed them. He reminded them of their high and holy vocation and its true meaning and said:

“You are in our eyes, dear Children of Mary, a sight of great joy, a vision in white-a vision of snow-a spectacle of innocence and purity, blessed from on high by Blessed Catherine Labouré.

“You are wearing this Miraculous Medal which has worked so many miracles, which works the very miracle we see at this moment, and makes a reality of this vision of which one would not have thought the world capable.

“You remind us that the Blessed Virgin said that she wished for an Association on which she would shower her graces. Her wish has been magnificently granted since numerous though you be, you are here but the representatives of 200,000 Children of Mary Immaculate.

“You are the eliteof the Blessed Virgin.”

The three-fold mission of. Father Aladel has now been accomplished with complete success. As he passed before us, in the different scenes we have described, we have learned to revere and admire and love him, yet his beautiful character has been revealed only in part.

V. THE DEATH OF FATHER ALADEL

On the morning of Monday, 24th April, 1865, Father Aladel celebrated Mass as usual in the Chapel of the Apparitions, and appeared to be in his usual good health. Although only 65 years, the long white hair, falling in great profusion on to his neck and over the ears, gave him the venerable appearance of a much older man. During the day he attended to his customary duties; hearing Confessions, giving instructions, etc. Towards evening he received a message from Dax that Father Etienne had been taken suddenly ill, and was in imminent danger of death. Father Etienne had gone to Dax to attend the religious ceremonies in connection with the anniversary of the opening of the Vincentian College and Church, which had been erected there in memory of St., Vincent de Paul, whose birthplace it was; The receipt of this news caused Father Aladel the deepest distress. On recovering from the shock, he at once took steps to obtain the prayers of his own community, and of the Sisters for their beloved Superior. In a conversation which took place that evening, between himself and the Mother-General some words escaped him, which, taken into account with other circumstances, gave the impression that he offered to God, from the altar of his heart, the sacrifice of his life for his friend. Such a sacrifice was in keeping with the character of one, whose whole life was one grand act of self-sacrifice. It was, too, only following in the footsteps of Him Who said:

“Greater love than this no man hath than that he lay down his life for his friend.”

He retired to rest that night as usual. It is surmised that he was taken ill during the night, and that he made a supreme effort to get up at the hour for rising-4 A.M. His fellow-priests, assembled as usual for morning prayers and meditation, were astonished to find that Father Aladel (who was never known to be absent) was not present. There was, however, no undue alarm as it was assumed that he had gone on direct to the Rue du Bac for his early morning Mass. The Sister Sacristan awaited his arrival there; but as Father Aladel, who was noted for his punctuality, did not arrive she became alarmed and went in haste to St. Lazare to inquire as to the cause, feeling some premonition of evil. When she had explained the object of her early morning visit, one of the priests went to his room, knocked at the door, and, receiving no answer, entered. He was horrified to see Father Aladel lying unconscious on the floor, face downward. How like His Divine Master in His Agony in the Garden! He summoned assistance and the stricken priest was tenderly lifted off the ground and placed on the bed. The doctor, who was sent for, quickly arrived, and expressing his opinion that it was a case of apoplexy he, according to the treatment at that time, bled him; but there was no hope, so Father Aladel was anointed as soon as possible. The sad news of his serious illness soon spread quickly, and people came from all parts of the city to inquire for him. The priests and the Sisters assembled in the sick room offered up prayers for him, without ceasing. The sweet and holy names that he loved during life: “Jesus, Mary, Joseph,” were now invoked on his behalf. He lingered on, without regaining consciousness, until 3 o‘clock in the afternoon, when he breathed forth his soul to God.

It was observed that his soutane was only partially buttoned, and that his breviary was open at the Litany of the Saints. It was the feast of St. Mark, the Evangelist, when, according to the Rubrics, the Litany had to be recited, and Father Aladel was evidently preparing to do so, when struck down. May we not believe that he gave his life for his friend, Father Etienne, who recovered from his serious illness, and lived many years more to continue as Superior-General, his great work for the two Communities.

In the letter to the Mother-General, announcing his death, from which we have already quoted, Father Etienne pays him this noble tribute:

“Our Congregation has lost one of its most worthy members, one of the most vigilant guardians of its spirit and traditions, and one of the most perfect models of the virtues of St. Vincent. Your Community loses a Director as enlightened as he was filled with devotion. During the years that he occupied this important position, he has constantly shown himself as worthy of your respect as of your confidence. Endowed as he was with a robust constitution, and having never been attacked by any illness, I was persuaded that. he would have a long career, and preserve for us for a long time his precious services; but he was a martyr to duty and devotion, and he refused to take any rest. So a life, that gave every promise to attaining to extreme old age, was brought suddenly to a close at the comparatively early age of 65. Our consolation is that he was ripe for Heaven. He has gone to receive the recompense which must crown his virtues and labours. I have no doubt that he will be for me before God a powerful friend, and the support of my weakness; and for you, a protector who will obtain for you new graces and abundant blessings.”

There is a Spanish proverb which says that “the soul of a people is the soul that blossoms from the soil.” So we can say that Father Aladel- a farmer’s son—more truly represented the soul of France than the false prophets whose spirit is alien to the soil. His character reflected those specifically French virtues, to which the Church has owed so much. The Catholic tradition was his heritage, and the Faith of the Saints and Martyrs of France was in his blood. It was obvious that, even in his tender years, he was destined to labour as a priest in the Vineyard of the Lord. There he worked unceasingly, with a zeal that never flagged. He had one object in view, and one only, to be always about his Master’s business. Neither in the noonday heats, nor when the burdens of the day pressed heavily on him, did he seek any rest. As the shadows lengthened and evening came, one would expect him to take a little relaxation, but no, the weary body might crave for rest, but the indomitable spirit which ruled it, would allow no respite. It had to bear the burden while strength remained, even if he should fall in the furrow. And so he fell as the ripe fruit falls from the tree, for the work that he was sent into the world to do was accomplished and he was ripe for Heaven. The Good Master, therefore, His heart filled with a great Love for such a faithful servant, took pity on the weary toiler and translated him to the Heavenly Vineyard to rest for ever in the Eternal Peace of God. Of this great and holy Priest it can be said:

“He was beloved of God and man, and his memory is in Benediction.”

********

O Mary conceived without sin, Pray for us who have recourse to thee

PROTESTATION.

In obedience to the Decree of Pope Urban VIII, the author protests that, unless it is expressly stated that the Church or the Holy See has recognised the truth of miracles, or other supernatural manifestations referred to in the following pages, no credence is claimed for them beyond what the available historical evidence may warrant.

Nihil Obstat

RECCAREDUS FLEMING, Censor Theol. Deput.

Imprimi Potest

@ IOANNES CAROLUS, Archiep. Dublinen.,

Hiberniae Primas.

Duhlini, die i6 Nov., anno 1945.

The Priest Talked Money

BY DANIEL A. LORD, S.J

INDEX

A PERSON really should not pay attention to anonymous letters. Still I read this particular letter with interest. Then I reread it.

Since the writer had not given me his name or address, I had the feeling of being baulked. I wanted to answer that letter. In fact, I wanted very badly to answer that letter.

But the writer had hid behind anonymity. Here’s the letter, however, and when you read it, I think you’ll see at once why it interested me so powerfully.

ANONYMOUS LETTER

“Dear Father: You’re a priest, and because you’re not a parish priest, I”m writing to you.

“You see, I want to tell a priest what I think of him. And a parish priest would probably tear this letter up. But since you are not a parish priest and don’t, in consequence, depend on Sunday collections, you may read this letter through before you tear it up.

“I”m sick and tired of the whole church-going business.

“I went to church last Sunday for Mass, though I felt none too anxious to go. And when our pastor got up into the pulpit, it was the same old story. All he ever talks is money, money, money. We get the same sermon every Sunday, and it always has the collection box for its text and the three points: give me, more, and money.

“This particular Sunday he started off by announcing the results of the Christmas collection-a trifling sum of about forty-five hundred dollars. Not too bad, not too bad. Honestly, for a moment I thought he was going to be satisfied. But was he? Not on your life. He dismissed the Christmas collection with a gesture and started off on a new tack-pardon me, the same old tack, but with a new port in view.

STILL MORE

“It seems that he wanted some new hardware for his church. The doors needed new handles. Some of the hinges were badly worn. He thought there ought to be new locks on some of the entrances.

““And,” said he, with emphasis, “they ought to be beautiful, too. I don’t want any cheap -looking stuff in this church. It’s a beautiful church, and we should keep it beautiful. So I want fine hardware, as fine as anything we have in the whole building. The collection next Sunday will be for that. So be generous. Give bills, paper money. Skip the silverfor a Sunday. And we’ll make the handles and the hinges and the locks on this church worthy of the church itself.”

“Honestly, I was almost sick to my stomach. We’d just handed him almost five thousand dollars, and now he was yelling for more.

“I stayed for the end of Mass; but when it was over, I left in a rush. All I could think was: What kind of a sucker does he take me for? What kind of saps are we, anyhow? Week after week he barks at us to give him money and more money. He’s blowing it in for this and that, always something his church needs. We’re poor people, most of us; some of us are just in moderate circumstances. But from the way he acts, you’d think we were rolling in cash and that we ought to roll it all his way.

TIRED OF IT

“So I”m through. I”m not going back to church again. I”m sick and tired of a church that’s always yapping for money; I”m sick and tired of a priest (just one of thousands) who has no other thought in his head except how he can milk the people for more cash.

“And wanting to tell somebody, I picked you. You might do well to tip off some of your priest friends. For there’s a mob of Catholics that feel as I do. Only they haven’t the guts to do anything about it. I have, and I”m walking out. “Very truly yours,

“A VERY TIRED CATHOLIC.”

QUITE A LETTER

Well that was quite an envelope-full. You can see why the letter interested me very considerably. I read it again, and then sat thinking about the whole business of the Church and money. I recalled the first time that I heard a priest criticized because he asked for money. I was a youngster at the time. We were sitting on the broad verandah of a summer resort hotel. Although the crowd was mixed, it was predominantly Catholic; and then one of the men in the group began to lay out his pastor in words that had much the same tone as that of this letter. It made a tremendous impression on me, for it was the first time I had heard a Catholic talk in anger about a priest.

Of course, I”ve heard that always -talking-about-money accusation many a time and oft since that remote summer evening. Some of my readers will remember that rather recently Father Siedenburg told how that accusation was being used in Soviet Russia, where, in the anti-God museums the Bolshevists have gathered and displayed all the various collection plates, votive stands, alms boxes, and similar articles that have been appropriated from the closed Russian Orthodox churches. The matter of money is always hurled at the Church by every radical that attacks it. Surely you remember how Calles thundered at the Mexican clergy, accusing them of robbing the poor-at the same time that he was building up one of the largest personal fortunes in the world by stealing everything that wasn’t red hot or in the heart of an untapped mine.

PRIESTS AND MONEY

The Spanish clergy were listed as being fabulously rich (but that is ludicrously untrue). The Jesuits are well known-by people who don’t know them at all-to be simply glutted with gold. (Alas, that I have never had the good luck to be stationed in a Jesuit house where the treasurer didn’t wince at thought of the first of the month with its none-too-gentle snow-storm of bills to be paid!)

And if any of my readers has not heard some of his good Catholic friends growl, “Oh, that priest of ours is always talking money”; and if sometimes he himself hasn’t shaken an impatient head as the collection was being taken up; and if he hasn’t heard or himself uttered a pious prayer that the Church may forget about money, then there is no slightest reason why he should continue reading this booklet. He can file application for a decree of beatification; he can take his place in the higher brackets of the Catholic laity.

WHO OWNS ‘EM?

Of course, I”d like to begin by admitting that perhaps the smartest way to collect large sums of money is never to talk money. The priest who is pastor of the most flourishing parish that I know, who keeps his parishioners supplied with an endless round of activities, social as well as spiritual, recreational as well as religious, almost never mentions the sordid word money. And when he does mention it, it is with such sincere embarrassment and obvious reluctance that his good people rush to relieve him of the necessity for making such an unwonted and unwanted request again.

But the letter that prefaces this booklet and the whole Catholic attitude of mind on which the letter is based (I need not point out that the anti-Catholic charges of vast wealth in the Church and in churches are usually fables, lies, or the most ignorant blundering) spring from one strange misapprehension.

Some Catholics, heaven alone knows why, think that the churches belong to the priests.

They seem to think that the priests are begging for money for their own personal purses.

Even the less well-informed Catholic should know-for the facts are clear enough-that the churches, more surely than does anything else in the world, belong to the people.

TOO BAD

Now, I”m also willing to admit that it is too bad that there has to be any question of money in connection with religion.

How sweet it would be if in every church there was a widow’s cruse or basket filled with cash, just, let’s say, two large silver dollars that would always be there. The pastor, when he needed to pay a coal bill or a lighting bill, would simply go to the miraculous little bank and take out silver dollars until he had a suitcase-ful; and there would still be the original two silver dollars in the bottom to begin the next mysterious multiplication of dollars.

How gracious it would be if at the Offertory of the Mass a gentle rain of dollar bills would drop from the dim recesses of the darksome Gothic arches, bills that must immediately be placed, of course, in the collection plate, lest, if kept too long, or used for unworthy purposes, they melt away like the manna of the ancient Jews.

MONEY DOESN’T GROW

Then we could build our churches without having to resort to collections and special assessments and envelope systems and bazaars and turkey dinners and raffles and door-to-door visitations by embarrassed young curates and boisterously hearty teams of lay people. We could endow our hospitals by the simple process of letting dollars multiply along with the fresh cultures of bacteria. We could start a completely new school system, knowing that every morning we could walk into the garden and gather freshly-sprouted money as our shoes gathered the freshly-dropped dew.

It’s a dream so sweet and simple that we grow momentarily wistful and wishful.

But, unfortunately, money does not rain down upon us like manna or multiply like microbes or appear mysteriously in earthen vessels set aside in the sacristy. And for general allyear convenience it’s not possible to say Mass unless there is a building to house the worshippers; and for some absurd reason parents prefer that their children be taught in a comfortable classroom rather than on the slope of a hill; and when a patient is brought to a hospital, he expects to have a ceiling over his head and a bed for his sick body.

And to complete this bit of quite astonishing logical reasoning, churches and schools and hospitals and other institutions must be built and equipped; and to this end money is necessary; and money is a thing that has to be obtained in some way or other. For the Government has a tendency to discourage pseudo-miraculous methods of making money with one’s own printing press and engraving set or with a metal casting device in one’s own basement.

GREAT BUILDERS

As a matter of fact, we Catholics in America (and indeed in many parts of the world) have a pretty fine reputation as builders.

I sometimes wonder whether centuries from now, when our civilization is dug up, the visiting party of explorers from Mars won’t marvel at the way and the extent to which we Catholics have built. Won’t they find many of our churches very beautiful? Won’t they be astonished that we built them quite as much in small towns and on country hillsides as in the great centres of population? And won’t these Martian scientists be delighted to realize that from the Catholic churches alone they can get a cross section of all the great architectural styles that have been preferred by the various people that make up our country, from great Gothic cathedrals to lovely little English parish churches, from reproductions of ancient Roman basilicas to the latest thing in the application of modern materials to church streamlining?

Sinclair Lewis once remarked in effect that the one building that is likely to be beautiful in the city that is scarred by the hideous gash called Main-street is the Catholic Church.

OUR OWN

Well, good writer of the anonymous letter and good friend who has read this far, please remember that you, under the leadership of your priest, are freely and splendidly responsible for these architectural achievements.

The churches of America, Australia, New Zealand, Canada, Ireland, Great Britain, and so many other places, and I mean it when I piously add thank God! were built without any aid from any government. We, the people, built them, and we own them. Perhaps some day a Red Government or a particularly nasty brand of dictatorship will take these buildings away from us and turn them into motion-picture palaces and granaries and garages and dance halls, as was done in Soviet Russia, in the Red districts of Civil War and preCivil War Spain, in “good-neighbour” Mexico (ever since the convolutions of the 1911 revolutions), and as is being done, as I write, in Nazi Germany {and as was to happen throughout Eastern Europe under the jackboot of Communist dictatorships}. But if this does happen, the Government will not be able to say to us Americans: “We built these churches; we own them; and whether or not you like it, we are taking them.”

We can look any tyrant in the eye and say, “We built those churches; we own them; our money made them possible; and if you take them, you’re committing the rankest and rottenest kind of theft.”

WE ARE THE CHURCH

That’s precisely the point: The churches are ours. They belong to the people that erected them. We Catholics- priests and people together-we are the Church.

More than that, beautiful as our churches are, large and sumptuous or small and unpretentious, correct to the last detail of historic style or built out of the native rock to suit the tastes of some small community, they were made possible by the combined efforts of the priests and the contributions of people of moderate incomes and the pennies of the poor.

Seldom enough to be headline news do we hear about a Catholic church that has been built or endowed by the large gift of some rich man. In a spirit of justified prideit has been said that St. Patrick’s Cathedral in New York City was built with the pennies of housemaids and shopgirls. I hope, and I honestly believe, that the boast is true. For it would give me a real thrill to see some cook or some girl from behind a hardware counter walk into St. Patrick’s, pat one of its firm, graceful columns lovingly, and say, “I built you.” I think that would be beautiful. Surely God would like it. And American Catholicity could be rousingly proud that it was true.

AND OUR INSTITUTIONS

What is true of our churches is equally true of our schools and other institutions. We, the Catholic people, built them. I remember seeing the Rector of one of our greatest Jesuit universities look out across the mellow campus and say, “Did you ever stop to think that all this was built without the slightest Government aid and without a single large donation or really sizeable gift?” He was right. That university was built by the tremendous efforts of the Jesuit executives and professors who had laboured for it; and the money that went into the building and the equipment came from the tuitions of boys who might have been sent to free public schools and to free State colleges and universities, but who preferred to contribute their money to an educational system that welcomes Christ and is built and conducted around a chapel.

Our hospitals were built in that same way. Our orphanages and our asylums have only this one financial origin and source of continuance. We, the Catholic people of this country, built these institutions out of our poverty. No tainted money went into them to relieve, as it were, some troubled conscience. No large endowment or princely gesture of some important man who wished to immortalize his name in a foundation made these buildings possible. They drew their revenues from no tenement properties or ugly slums.

WE DID IT

They were built by the unselfish idealism of our priests and men and women religious and by the magnificent generosity of our laity, who gave, not out of their wealth, but out of their widow mites and their artisan work-soiled wages, out of small-pay envelopes and slim-salary cheques.

It is possible that the Martian scientists will not know all that. But we know it, and we are profoundly glad.

We, the Catholic people, who are the Church, we are directly responsible for the magnificently complete history of architectural beauty of the Catholic churches in America and other places.

We, the Catholic people, built the Catholic schools, made the Catholic school system, because we were not going to stand for having God elbowed out of the classroom.

We, the Catholic people, in a spirit of humanitarian service completed the full cycle of our charitable enterprises, a cycle that has consistently touched and treated every need in every class in every age.

And we did all this because some priest had the courage to ask for money and because Catholic lay men and women had the generosity to give when they were asked to give.

AND GLAD OF IT

I said I wished that our priests did not have to talk about money in our churches.

But now I feel inclined to take that statement back.

Almost I”m glad that we do have to talk about money. I”m glad that we do not have to ask for aid from a grudging and slightly pagan Government; I”m glad that our aid comes from the warm hearts of those who love and are served by the Church. I”m glad that there is some tangible manifestation, some easy gesture by which Catholics can show that they love their Church, that they want her to continue her work, that they insist that even in times of depression or recession she must not stop worshipping God, bringing Jesus Christ from heaven, and serving the needy and the beloved young of Christ’s dear affection.

MONEY AND THE MASS

It is important to remember that the offering of money has become part of the Mass itself. It is not by accident that the collection plate is passed around at the moment when the priest is offering to the Almighty Father the water and the wine and the bread that will become the Eucharist.

There was a time when at that particular moment of the Mass the people walked up to the altar-in the dark catacombs, let’s say-and presented their gifts. They gave the wine for the priest’s offertory. Or they brought the bread that was to be consecrated for their own Communion. The priest took these gifts from their hands and offered them to God in token of the fact that they, the people, wanted to have a part in the Mass and that the bread and the wine were symbolic of their own hearts and souls, which they offered gladly to their Creator.

As you can readily see, if this procedure of individual gifts of wine and bread had continued into our day, it might have complicated things. I wonder what precisely the modern priest would do if at one of the crowded Sunday Masses in a big city church everyone came up to the altar and offered a little jug of wine anda loaf of bread. It doesn’t take a too vivid imagination to picture that sanctuary after the two thousand in the church had come up and presented their gifts.

SUBSTITUTE

So it was that the offering of money was instituted as a substitute for the offering of bread and wine. As the priest offers the bread and wine to God, the people place, on the church’s contribution plate, their gift of money. That money is not, clearly, a gift to the priest. It is not, in the strict sense, a gift to the parish. It is a gift to God Himself, a marvellous gift that will make possible the continuance of the worship of God, the priesthood of Jesus Christ, the flow of grace from heaven, the rebirth of souls in baptism and in penance, the preaching of the words of truth from the parish pulpit.

More than that, as we shall presently see, that gift of money is an investment. It is an investment in an enterprise that is of tremendous importance to the people. For without money the Church could not in these modern times continue its service of souls, much less of bodies. Practically speaking, there could be no sacraments for all, no easy preaching of the truth, no schools, no corporal works of charity. And all these services for souls and bodies are certainly not limited to the use of a priest. They are services that are intended directly for and are within easy reach of the men and the women who place their coins in the collection plate that is held out to them.

WHAT’S FREE?

One pleasant thing to remember is that the Church is ours, yours; she belongs -and belongs as almost nothing else does-to you lay men and women who are reading these lines.

Big cities these days are very proud of their public parks and recreational grounds. But those public grounds are filled with a great varietyof restrictions, everything from the patches of lawn that are marked with a stern “Keep Off the Grass” to the tennis courts to which you have access only when you have a licence or a permit. Just try picking the flowers in the park or taking home the cityzoo’s pet elephant.

And while we are told that the parks are free, we are never really fooled about how free they actually are. We know that we have paid for them in good round tax coin. And we keep on paying for their support, even if we have our private tennis court, and a membership in the country club, and never picnic in the picturesque setting of the neighbourhood’s stray dogs and noisy children.

We talk about our public library, and we like to remember that it is free in its service. But try to take a book off the shelf without going through all the essential red tape of modern library membership and service. Free? Certainly- with the understanding that you pay your taxes to build it, to keep it going, to replace old volumes and to buy new ones.

Yet, not for a moment do you think that the library was built for the sake of the librarians, even though the most poorly paid librarian receives about twice the salary of that delightful young assistant pastor whose sermons you enjoy so much.

We speak of the city hall, and by that we mean the hall that belongs to the city. Strictly speaking, you are the city, you citizens. But the city hall is in most of our cities pretty well pre-empted by the party in power. The building belongs in a very physical sense to the job-holders. But just try assembling the more attractive clerks for a party in the rotunda or borrowing the office pen to play darts.

REMARKABLY FREE

Compared with this, the freedom that you and I possess with respect to our churches is most remarkable. These wide-open churches are waiting day and night. There is almost nothing to prevent our freest possible use of them. There is no one to utter stern commands, to regiment us, to direct our steps or our devotions . . . except during those brief periods of the Sunday Mass and the seasonal devotions, when a little direction is necessary for the comfort and convenience of all.

And if the park commissioners and their assistants don’t own the park, and if the librarians don’t own the library, and if the city hall-at least in theory, whatever its practical operation-isn’t owned by the men and women who work in it, even a moment’s thought gives us the obvious parallel that our churches are not for the priests. The priests are for the churches. And the churches are for the people who use them with a delightful freedom that could belong only to the free sons and daughters of an indulgent Father and a loving Mother, the Church.

Yes; the churches are in most remarkable fashion yours, and coming right down to dollars and cents, they are most moderate in their demands upon your purse.

COLLECTIONS

In most churches there is a collection at only one Mass during the week, the Mass on Sunday. Very seldom indeed does it happen that a collection is taken up at any of the week-day Masses.

All day long the churches are open, with no slightest charge upon those who enter.

Evening devotions are often accompanied by a collection, but it seems to me that a sort of shyness always takes possession of collectors after sundown. They present the baskets almost with diffidence. They seem abashed at the possibility that they might be disturbing a devoutly bent head. They walk on tiptoe. They move with a charming reticence, almost as if they hoped that the people would not contribute . . . at least, not too generously.

BY WAY OF COMPARISON

As for the collection itself, it would be interesting to make an honest examination of Catholic consciences. That examination might start like this:

How much do you, my good sir, spend each week on cigarettes? On alcohol? On chocolates? On the races? On a loaf of bread?

How much is your cosmetics bill, my charming lady?

How much on the average do you youngsters spend for the movies or other entertainments?

Or, for that matter, what is the average entrance fee to the motion-picture shows in your town?

Now the conscience-pricking question: What is the average of your Sunday contribution to the upkeep of the church that serves you?

I think we needn’t go into that. It is regrettable that coins of the lowest denominations are likely to be the most pious and religious-minded; certainly they turn up most often at church. And if a five-dollar bill were to appear in an ordinary Sunday collection, the pastor would be convinced that Mass had been attended by someone with a badly troubled conscience or by a pugilist that was still groggy after an important bout or by someone whose eyes had been tricked by the cathedral’s mystic light or too little sleep the night before.

THE GATE

My anonymous correspondent pointed to that Christmas collection of forty-five hundred dollars with astonishment. He was dumbfounded, apparently, that so much money should be pouring into a single church. Well, that was, after all, the Christmas collection, out of which, in all probability, the parish was expected to support the young seminarians studying for the priesthood, to liquidate the coal bill for the winter, or to pay the interest on the church’s heavy debt.

Just as a matter of financial interest, however, a gate of forty-five hundred dollars is not considered tremendous these days. Time was when Americans paid a million and a quarter to see two heavy-weights bash each other around a ring, and some of the so-called spectators were so far away from the ring that they received for their five dollars only the privilege of watching what seemed like two ants struggling over an invisible grain of sugar.

Radio City Music Hall in New York has been known to take well in advance of twenty thousand dollars in a single day and one hundred thousand dollars in the course of a single week. And half a dozen big motion-picture palaces in each of our larger cities draw weekly crowds that together pay twenty-five thousand dollars and more for the privilege of seeing galloping shadows endlessly repeating adventures on a two-dimensional screen.

So I am not astounded over the fact that once a year a large city church takes in forty-five hundred dollars-not especially since I happen to know what it costs to keep in repair and full operation the church, school, recreational centre, priest’s house, and Sisters” convent that are usually found in the ordinary large-city parish.

THE POCKET OF THE PRIEST

But once more, isn’t it a little silly to talk and act as if the collection -plate money went right into the pocket of the priest?

You’d really think from the tone of my good friend’s letter that the priest who was so strenuously requesting hardware was going to wear it himself. As I read the letter I had visions of the good priest putting one of the hinges on his coat lapel and using the locks for buttons, and perhaps planting a doorknob firmly on the handle of his cane. Really, he wasn’t. That was merely the impression I got from the tone of the letter.

The hardware was going right into the church. I think it was rather fine that the priest wanted it to be beautiful and worthy of the rest of the church. Evidently he is the kind of priest who thinks that the church of God should be worthy of God. Perhaps he even feels that if his parishioners go to see Donald Duck squawk his way through his ludicrous adventures in a cinema palace that was confessedly erected at a cost of a million and a half, they ought to attend the sacred mysteries of Christ’s Body and Blood in a church that is at least somewhat comparable in beauty to the motionpicture palace.

NOT HIS

No; the priest isn’t going to wear the doorknobs. Nor can he get any personal comfort from a beautiful pulpit. And he has no really private use for a lovely altar rail. And whether the church is left in cold whitewash or finished in calm, dignified, devotional frescoes really makes no essential difference to his own peace of mind. The plain fact of the matter is that his parishioners will use the knobs much more frequently than he will-for they are in the thousands, and he is merely one.

What could be more gratifying than the feeling that the hinges of the house of God are so strong that the batterings of hell could not loose them; that the church is so safely locked at night that the precious vessels of the altar could not be stolen; that the hinges are so fine that the touch of a child would send the door swinging easily and gently and welcomingly inward?

FOR THE PEOPLE

Please remember that the Catholic church is, beyond any other building in the world, for the people. There in that church the priest serves his people. There the Sacraments become the channels of endless grace.

There the blessings fall in showers upon eager souls. There Christ awaits and serves His people. There truth is preached and hope is awakened and the words of love are tirelessly repeated. There the weary and the burdened come to sit quietly with eyes on the tabernacle. There the tempted flee to seek and find sanctuary. The young mother with her baby boy, the old mother praying for her straying son, the youngster face to face with the hot eyes of sin, the girl at the end of a day at the office, the man from the factory, the failure and the success, the conquering and the conquered-to all of these and to thousands more the doors of the Catholic churches are welcomingly open.

Ours is no two-hours-of-a-Sunday-and-one-night-in-the-week building, so much spoken against by modern economists. Ours is an every-hour-in-the-day-far-into-the-night building; it is always at the service of the people. And, happily, the people know that it is theirs. It is the one building in the world that can be entered without the use of a key, the ringing of a bell, the presentation of a letter or a card, the knocking at a door, the buying of a ticket, the waiting in an anteroom, or any other of the laborious conventional means that human beings must use to gain access to other buildings.

COMPLETELY OWNED

Here is the one building in which everyone is always welcome. Here is the only building in the world for which we pay no instalments, lay no rent on the line, sign no lease, enter no contract, and stand no chance of eviction.

Show me any other building on earth that is owned and used so completely.

Within that church Mass is offered daily; and the poorest may attend without embarrassment. Most Catholics seem ignorant of the fact that the priest at the altar is required by Church law to say Mass frequently for them. The Mass that the pastor says on Sunday must be said for his people. And though many of the old feasts of the Church are no longer holy days of obligation, still on the major days of the year the priest must say Mass for those who are within that parish.

And speaking of the services that the Church renders, shall we mention Confession and what it means to the people? visits -to the Blessed Sacrament? Viaticum and the Last Sacraments? Or aren’t these so commonplace that we need only glance at them to renew our gratitude?

THE CLERGY’S SHARE

Now, the relation of the clergy to the Church, and especially to the churches, is something that must be recalled. “Servus Servorum Dei” is the title that the Pope deliberately chose for himself. “I am,” he said (the translation is exact), “the servant of the servants of God.” That is precisely the attitude that characterizes the spirit of the clergy. The Church does not belong even to the Pope. He is her administrator, the Vicar of Christ, serving the lambs and sheep of the flock of Christ. If the churches belong strictly to anyone, they belong to God. But they are operated by the Church for the sake of the people who are the children of God and the members of His flock.

THE BISHOPS

Throughout America civil law has made it necessary that any organization holding property must be a civil person. We call such a civil person a corporation-that is, an organization with a corpus, a body. Hence it is that in America each diocese is as an almost universal rule set up as a State-recognized corporation. The diocese usually uses as a title the term, The Catholic Bishop of—(the name of the diocesan city). In this way the property can be safely held and legally protected; the people have the assurance that their churches, schools and other institutions are secure.

But you’ll notice that the title includes only the impersonal word Bishop. The church property does not belong to the Bishop of the diocese as a person. He is merely the administrator of a corporation that is called, not by his personal name, but by the name of his office. He dies, and the next Bishop of the diocese takes over the administration. He dies, and his successor, still under the impersonal title Bishop, administrates the property.

The Bishop himself can touch none of this property for his personal use. He can will none of this to anyone. He is merely the custodian of the property, which belongs to the people. He cares for and protects and by the use of this title legally safeguards what really belongs to all the faithful of the diocese. And when he dies, the administration of that property, always for the good of the people and the service of themembers of Christ’s kingdom on earth, passes on to his successor.

THE PRIESTS’ SALARIES

Precisely what financially does a priest get out of all the money that my good friend talks about? Well, in most dioceses today the salary of the priest is determined by the law of the diocese, and it is relatively easy to find out just what that salary is. In a city a pastor’s salary averages round twelve hundred dollars a year. The assistants each receive from two hundred and fifty dollars to approximately six hundred dollars.

I have met country pastors who have accomplished the incredible financial feat of caring for a parish, running a small school, paying the tiny salaries of three nuns, operating all the parish activities, and caring for their own living on a total gross parish income of approximately three thousand dollars a year. And believe me, there are priests in sections of this country to whom that sum would look princely, priests who have to struggle along on starvation incomes.

MEN, NOT MONEY

Now allthat I”ve said of the parish church is in some ways even more true of the schools and institutions to which Catholics are asked to contribute. To me the miracle of all finance is the way in which religious communities keep their work going and their institutions in full operation. Of course, I know that they do it by the quite simple process of not paying salaries to the members of their own community. This is so much a recognized fact that associations like the North Central Association of Colleges and Secondary Schools and important hospital standardizing groups list as present in Catholic institutions what they call endowment in men.

By this the Protestant and the Jew have acknowledged that we Catholics make a contribution to our causes that is in all things unique. We command a contribution of man power. Our priests and men and women religious work without salary. They contribute their lives to the cause of education and charity. If salaries were paid them, as are paid similar workers in other like institutions, our colleges and hospitals and charitable enterprises could not possibly exist without enormous endowments in money. The fact that these men and women give their services without charge of any kind means that the work can go on. And while the latedepression (the “Great Depression”) showed us how tricky and faulty and easily lost are the vast endowments on which non-Catholic institutions often rest, how they shrink and disappear, that same depression made us realize the stability of the endowment which is ours, the endowment in man power and human devotion that continues without dependence on any economic rise and fall.

THE GIFT OF LIVES

When next you are asked for money, remember that there are priests and religious who are matching your gift of money with the gift of their lives to God and to the service of humanity-and to you.

I should think it would be a source of real and justified pride to us that we Catholics have built so splendidly. But I think it should cause the layman a little embarrassment to realize that men and women of his own generation and class of society, with opportunities equal to his and talents that match his own, are giving their lives while all that he is asked to give is a small gift of his money.

WHAT MAKES IT POSSIBLE?

Let me assure you that the actual money that Catholics have contributed thus far would make a very poor showing in the world of architecture, of education, of social service, of hospitals, and of charity if every dollar had not been placed in the hands of men and women who gave it all back to God and who administered it with such canny shrewdness and supernatural devotion that one dollar was made to do the work of five.

It is only the fact that heavy overhead is cut, the cost of high-priced executives eliminated, our colleges staffed with volunteer professors, and our hospitals served by men and women who ask only the little food they eat and perhaps a new habit once in seven years (the period is probably average)-it is only this fact that makes it possible for us to match our achievements against the achievements of any other group in modern life-match, and in many cases surpass.

Out of all this money, be sure to remember, your priests and your religious get almost nothing. And when they ask you for the money, they ask also for the one privilege that they really want: the privilege to use that money to supplement the services they hope you will accept from their hands.

FORGOTTEN

It sometimes strikes the observer as odd that the priest who was primarily responsible for the building of a great church is so little the owner of that church that within a very few years the parishioners do not so much as remember the name of the man who worried about the plans, supervised the construction, and carried the burden of seeing that the interest on the debt was paid and the capital debt slowly wiped out.

Some splendid nun builds a great hospital out of the pitiful savings of her religious community. The hospital serves the public with generous zeal. The nun is transferred to another post or she dies; and if a generation later you asked the chief of staffwho it was that founded this hospital, he wouldn’t be able to tell you; he could tell you the name of the first head physician, but the name of the nun probably has not lingered on even as a legend.

I have seen old nuns who had established an entire educational system living in complete obscurity with the simple comforts of an old mother in a family of the poor. I have known old priests who at one time guided the destinies of great universities and at the end of their lives were not even mentioned by the commencement orators who strode the stages of the great auditoriums these priests had built.

WELL USED

Your priests and religious, believe me, have in general used your money wisely and well. They have not even asked that their name be carved in stone or that they be commemorated in a tablet with their profile in brass.

They have planned well. They have used pennies wisely. They have erected cathedrals on a foundation of nickels. They have built great hospitals on the strength of a dollar a month taken from a thirty-dollar-a-month salary of their teaching nuns. They have used incredible thrift in the effort to make possible incredible charity. They have worried about mortgages and have grown grey carrying heavy debts. They have guided the finances of the American churches so skilfully that even today our Catholic bonds are high in market value and seldom indeed does a piece of Catholicchurch property go the common way of real estate. And for all that, they have taken only what for most of them amounted to a barely decent living.

FINANCIERS

I have sometimes wondered, rather crudely, whether the financiers of the world would not be willing to pay highly for the talents of our priests and religious. But then I have realized that the financial ability of our priests and religious is given to them because of the work they do. They have made St. Joseph their treasurer; they take their financial worries to the Mother of Good Counsel; they ask the Christ to teach them, as He taught St. Peter, how to find tax or interest money in the mouth of a fish. But all this simply brings me back to the real point at issue.

My good anonymous friend was, I”m sorry to say, thoughtless and sadly unobservant. If he had thought for even a minute, all this that I have written would have occurred to him, and I would not have had to point it out.

OURS, NOT YOURS

Most of all, he would have realized how sad a mistake he was making when by his attitude he put the Church in the hands of the clergy and said, almost disdainfully, “That’s yours; take care of it.” What he would have said had he been even slightly keen or alert or observant, is,

“This church is, of course, mine. I want it to be beautiful. I want it to be fine. I am glad that you, Father, the caretaker, are doing a good job. I should hate to see the church allowed to run down. It would be a terrible commentary on my Catholicity if the motion-picture palace down the street were a thing of exquisitely-cared-for beauty while my church was slovenly and unkempt. How terrible if through financial failure on my part Mass could no longer be said in my church, and the absolution of the priest could no longer be given to the sinful soul, and mothers could no longer find an open door into the presence of the lover of little children, and the old could no longer sit in comfortable pews and dream, and the tabernacle light, flickering for the last time, went out into black, faithless, hopeless darkness.

“Father, never let that happen.

“Here’s the money I can afford to give. After all, you have given your life, as have the Brothers and Sisters and the other priests that serve me and my children and the sick and the old and the weary and the hunted of the world.

“I should be ashamed if I did not match with a little money the magnificent sacrifices and gifts of human lives that have made possible the glorious accomplishments of my Church in America.”

FOR US

That would make sense.

For money has never been better or more frugally spent than it is in the Church that is Catholic. No other administrators have ever asked less for the work they have done than have your priests and men and women religious.

And in all they do and in all that the money you give may do, remember that it is not for the priest, the brother, the nun.

It is for you. For the quite simple reason that the Church and the Catholic churches are yours.

********

The Problem of Evil 1

FATHER MICHAEL SCOTT, S.J

INDEX

I suppose that one of the problems which will continue to engage men’s minds and trouble their hearts till the end of time has come is the age-old Problem of Evil. People are worried about it, and unhappy-and quite understandably so, because it is a problem and a very difficult one.

THE PROBLEM STATED

The problem might best be put something like this: -There is a God, Who we are told, is good and loving and all powerful.

There is also much dreadful suffering and unhappiness in this world. If God can prevent this suffering and does not, then He is not good and loving, but cruel or at best indifferent.

If He cannot prevent it, then He is not all-powerful. In either case, He is not what He is made out to be. And if it is insisted that He is still good and loving and all-powerful, they why does He permit all this suffering and unhappiness?

That is the problem, and admittedly it is a rather frightening one. How are we going to solve’ it? Can we solve it?

IS THERE AN ANSWER?

Frankly no-that is, not completely. And in our present state of life we should not even expect to have a complete solution. Because to have such a solution we would need to know God’s mind, and we cannot do that in this life. For the mind of God is infinite, without limit, whereas our minds are very finite, very limited, and therefore can only grasp what is itself finite and limited. You. cannot pour an ocean into a tumbler, and you can’t take the mind of God and, as it were, pour it into the mind of man.

So then, not knowing God’s mind c ompletely, we can’t expect to know fully why He permits pain and suffering. But does it follow from that, because we do no know God’s mind in all this-does it follow that He is necessarily cruel or indifferent? Can’t we attribute to Him, in His actions, motives at least as high and worthy as we attribute to our fellow men in similar circumstances?

A father, for example, punishes his child, a doctor or a dentist causes suffering to his patients by an operation or some painful form of treatment-they stick needles into us and do all ‗sorts of terrible things-but do we, on that account, consider them cruel or indifferent to suffering? Why then, when we refer pain and suffering a step further-back to God- why should we immediately conclude that He is cruel or indifferent? Only purposeless suffering offends our moral sense, and as far as God is concerned we have no right to say that, any suffering is purposeless.

GIVING GOD CREDIT

We give the father, the doctor, the dentist credit for their high motives—―they are cruel only to be kind‖, they hurt only to heal and correct. Why then should we stop short at God and refuse to credit Him with like high motives.

It’s so inconsistent, really, so illogical, so stupid when one stops to think about it. After all, if we can feel this way about pain and suffering, and act this way about them, and know that it is right, then why does it suddenly become wrong when applied to God, and what right have we to suppose that God doesn’t feel and act about them that way too? After all, where do we get these feelings from, this wisdom of purposeful permission of pain, ‗if not from God? Because -if God is to be made responsible for the pain and suffering in this world, simply because it is His world, then logically He must also be responsible for the good. And as we shall see it is the good for which He is responsible that explains the evil which He permits.

ONLY ONE SOLUTION

To assume that He is cruel or indifferent will not help us solve our problem-on the contrary, it leaves us with an even greater one, the problem of good. To assume that He is not all-powerful will not help us, as there is then no logical explanation at all for this world and its happenings as we know them.

And therefore the only solution must be that He is both all-loving and all-powerful and that He permits evil, pain and suffering precisely for our good. .

We start off then by assuming that God does really love us, and then see if we can reconcile the pains and sufferings of this world with that love of God. We are entitled to make that assumption, surely, for it is not an arbitrary one, but an’ in- escapable logical conclusion from everything else in the world outside evil.

GOD DOES LOVE US

It is proved first by everything that is good and happy in our lives, and no one but the most jaundiced will deny that the balance is overwhelmingly on the side of goodness and happiness. And if it sometimes appears otherwise, isn’t that only because ugliness strikes the eye as glaring and exceptional, whereas goodness and beauty are natural and ordinary?

And even if this were not so, even if there were no apparent happiness in this world, but only pain and suffering, we would still have the greatest and most staggering proof of all that God was not indifferent to our sufferings but that He loved us to the point beyond which even love cannot go, in the fact that He Himself became man like us and after a life of work and suffering died as a criminal on the cross that He might save us from the consequences of sin.

―Greater love than this no man hath than a man lay down his life for his friends.‖ It is the supreme test, isn’t it, and we cannot ask any more. And incidentally it is His own saying. Will He then, Who loves us so much, will He allow anything to ‗touch us that is not for our good? Can we not trust Him then, has He not earned that trust?

At least let us not judge Him. For a true judgment of anything we must know all the facts and here in this matter we simply do not know them. For us to attempt to judge Him, then, would be not only an act of unreason, but an act of gross impertinence.

STARTING POINT

So, as a start, as a foundation on which to build and a safe base to which to return when we can see no other defence, let this be our attitude:-God permits pain and suffering-we do not always see why. But we do know that He loves us. Therefore we know that if He permits pain and suffering it must be for our good.

I said a moment ago that it is impos sible for us in this life ever to understand fully God’s motives in this matter because it is impossible for us to grasp the infinite mind of God. But can we perhaps understand Him partly-catch brief glimpses as it were of some of the motives which prompt Him to permit pain and suffering? I think we can, and for the remainder of this talk I would like to put to you what seem to me very good reasons for God’s permitting of them.

SIN AND FREE WILL

Take first of all, the question of moral evil—sin, wrongdoing. Why does God permit it? The answer to that lies in another question-is liberty a good thing or isn’t it?

What do we prize most in this world? What is it that forever we are assuring ourselves and the rest of the world, we are prepared to fight for even unto death? Isn’t it liberty, isn’t it freedom? Was any war ever fought in which that motive wasn’t predominant on one side or the other?

Well, God made us free, and would have from us a service that is free. But in practice, here on earth, freedom to serve God means also freedom to refuse that service-in other words it means sin, or at least it implies its possibility.

Hence, given free will, sin or at least its possibility is a normal necessary consequence, otherwise that freedom would be a mockery.

It is true that God if He wanted to, could force us to obey His will. But if He did that He would be completely nullifying His gift of free will, and the whole beauty and value of man’s service would be lost because only by its being free can man really show his love for God and his neighbour, only by its being difficult can he really show his worth. Here it might be argued that although freedom is a precious gift to those who use is rightly, it is a tragedy and perhaps even a final tragedy to those who are too weak to use it properly or so perverse that they misuse it, and therefore God should not have given it to them, which means of course that He should not have created them.

The answer to that is that if God had refrained from creating certain people because He foresaw they would abuse their freedom, He would have been dictated to by His creatures, therefore dependent on them, therefore no longer God.

But leaving that aside, because it is a difficult piece of metaphysical reasoning, to follow it right through and looking at it from a purely human angle, don’t we all agree that freedom of its very nature always involves a risk and that that risk is justifiable if the freedom is for the common good?

ABUSE OF FREE WILL

Let me illustrate that with an example I found once in a book by the late Archbishop Downey. Supposing an employer had decided to give a bonus of £10 to each of his employees, and suppose furthermore that he knew that one of his employees, whom we shall call X, would misspend the money on drink. Well, he gives the £10 to all of them, including X, because X was one of his employees-and sure enough X does spend it all on drink, has a riotous week-end, fails to report back to work on the Monday, and is dismissed. Whose fault is it?

Is it the employer’s because he gave X a good gift which could have been put to so many good uses? Surely the guilt rests entirely with X who abused the gift.

Similarly with the gift of free will which God gives us -if we misuse it, God is no more responsible than the employer in the example I have given-but only ourselves. After all it is free will we are talking about, and if we abuse it, then the blame is entirely ours, particularly when we remember that all the time God is helping us to use it rightly by the never ceasing action of His grace, Sanctifying and Actual.

SIN AND SUFFERING

Let’s turn now to physical evil-pain and suffering-and to begin with let’s take the most obvious and intense suffering we see in this world-the ravages of war and its dreadful aftermath.

People say -you’ve heard them so often yourselves-‖If God loved men there wouldn’t be any war‖. An understandable complaint, perhaps, at first hearing, and made without bitterness mostly-but in reality so blindly and stupidly unfair. For it is not God who causes war, not God who drops bombs and brings death and destruction to millions of innocent people,but man himself, man gone wrong by disobeying the greatest of all God’s human commandments-‖Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself.‖

For if man obeyed that commandment there would never be any question of war. And so the complaint should really read, not―if God loved men there wouldn’t be any war‖ but rather ―if men loved God and obeyed His commandment to love their fellow men there would not be, never could be a war.‖

MUCH SUFFERING IS MAN-MADE

And here we come to the crux of this problem of human pain and suffering, that so much of it is directly man-made, the direct result of man’s disobedience to God.

For sin necessarily involves the violation of some human right (at any rate sins against the last seven of the ten Commandments) and the violation of a human right brings suffering in its train-mental or physical.

Hence, granted the possibility of sin, the possibility of human pain and suffering is another necessary consequence. We can’t have it both ways-we can’t be free and at the same time avoid the consequences of that freedom. So let’s not blame God, if seeing that a free and willing service is best, and creating us free, He allows us at the same time to suffer the consequences of that freedom, in sin and in the pain and suffering that are its by-product He could not do otherwise in the present dispensation of His providence.

In fact if He did prevent those consequences He would he doing something that is not for our ultimate good. Because sin disturbs the balance of creation, and suffering as a counter-balance and a sanction is necessary to restore it.

SIN AND GOD’S PROVIDENCE

But-and this is where God’s never-ceasing love and providence come in-all the time, without stifling and nullifying this free will-God is working on the human soul with all the powers of His moral influence to draw it away from sin- by revelation, by the example of His own life as man, by encouragement, by physical sanctions, by the invisible force of His grace. And if He fails there sometimes-as fail He must when He leaves it to man’s free will ultimately whether he is to obey-if He fails there, loving us still in spite of our disobedience, He then takes those necessary consequences of sin, which are pain and suffering, and uses them to draw out untold good.

People either do not see that or they deliberately ignore it, but in the long run it will be seen that no suffering was ever wasted, but that God drew out of it blessings that far and away counter-balance the original evil.

That is God’s way. He lets men sin because He would have their service a free one-He lets necessary physical consequences of pain and suffering ensue, and then sets in to repair the damage done, working, as St. Paul tells us, ―all things together unto good.‖

What a loving and patient Father we have in our God.

SICKNESS AND TRIALS -THEIR VALUE

And now let’s look at pain and suffering that are not so obviously the direct result of man’s sin, but appear to come more directly from the hand of God Himself. I refer to trials like ordinary sickness and pain, the various sorrows and disappointments we experience in this life, and then the more obvious ones usually referred to legally as ―Acts of God‖- like plagues, and storms and earthquakes, famine, floods and droughts.

Why does God send them, or at any rate why does He allow them?

Well, first of all, they may be sent as a corrective punishment for sin-a sanction. I say guardedly may, because we really have no way of knowing in any individual case. But if it is that way, surely no one can question the justice of it? We have offended God, and to correct the balance we must be punished—either here or hereafter. And if God sees fit to correct us now through suffering, then surely there is no cause for complaint, but if we see it properly, only gratitude, that it comes now when we can best profit from it, for ourselves and for others.

THIS LIFE A TRIAL FOR ETERNITY

But leaving all that aside, the possibility of its being sent as a sanction for sin -much more frequently and more importantly, therefore we can be sure it is sent as a trial.

This life is not an end in itself, it is meant merely as a trial, a test of our fitness to see whether we are worthy of our final end, which is to see and enjoy God forever in Heaven.

Now what sort of a test would it be if there were no pain and suffering in this world, no hardship, no sorrow, no unhappiness, and our life here were just one, long, unbroken round of happiness and of pleasure? It would be a mockery, wouldn’t it, not worthy of the name of trial?

And what value would we place on that next life with God, in fact would we even want it, if this one were so easy and that other to be won simply by drifting along pleasantly in this?

We just don’t value the things that are ours for the asking and we have little or no respect for the man who has never had to fight for the things that he calls his own. The real prizes of life are those that are hardest to win, and the real heroes of this world those who have fought and suffered and won through at last to victory in the hard and difficult way.

Would we have it otherwise with the greatest prize of all, and the greatest victory, the winning of Heaven?

SUFFERING A BREEDING GROUND FOR VIRTUE

And what are the virtues we prize most in men in the purely natural order? Courage and strength and patience, surely, and sympathy and kindness and understanding? And where will you find a better breeding-ground for those than in hardship and in suffering? In fact what other breeding-ground is there?

How is the fine, tough, resilient steel of a Toledo blade forged but by tempering, being tried by heat and cold, being hammered and bent and twisted? Even so is character wrought in men. Look around you among your own friends and those whose character you admire and ask yourselves where those qualities have come from that make them what they are. You will find, I think, that they have their roots in pain and struggle and sorrow- the more heroic and more truly human of them.

And look at the great saints of Christendom -the early Christian martyrs and the present day ones behind the Iron Curtain-the great missionaries and all the rest-the terrible pain and suffering and hardship that they endured in their lives.

―Oh yes,‖ you might say, ―but they were special cases-they were saints and they were able to endure their sufferings because they were saints.‖

Ah no, it is the other way round. They did not take their pain and suffering that way because they were saints -on the contrary, they became saints precisely because they took it that way.

And that is precisely why God sends us pain and suffering, that we too might be purified by it, that we too might one day become saints. It was the method He used with St. Paul that He might make him a great apostle-‖This man,‖ He said to Ananias when He appeared to him in a vision-‖This man is to me a vessel of election, and I will show him‖-we might have expected, I will show him what great things he must do for my sake-but no, not that, something entirely different-‖I will show him what great things he must suffer for mysake”-suffer.

There is no easy way to the acquisition of character-there is no easy way to Heaven-like all great prizes they are taken only by storm-and the storming is done through suffering.

The storming may be hard-but how great the prize. St. Paul knew what he was talking about in this matter of suffering, as God had promised that he would-yet he could sum it all up at the end- ―I reckon that the sufferings of this life are not worthy to be compared with the glory that is to come, that shall be revealed in us.‖ (Rom. 8, 18.)

THE INVITATION OF CHRIST

I have been trying to show how from a human point of view we can come to see some ofthe reasons behind God’s per- mission of suffering. But even if we could not see at all, we would still have something to cling to, the greatest help of all, in the example of Our Lord’s own life. One thing only mattered for Our Lord -that He should do HisFather’s will. And if it was the will of His Father that He should fail, humanly speaking, and suffer and die on the Cross, then ―Father, not My will but Thine be done‖ was His cry, even in the depths of His agony. To be like Christ, not only in the fact of His obedience but even in the way in which it was asked, that is what God wants from us as well. ―Unless a man take up his cross and follow Me, he cannot be My disciple‖-those are Our Lord’s own words, and when He said ‗disciple’ He meant quite literally a follower, one who would be with Him always, to share with Him in His work no matter what it might be.

Now the redemption of the world from sin was won by Christ’s suffering and death, not just because they were suffer—ing and death but because they were the Father’s will. If we are to be His disciples, then, not merely benefiting by the redemption but actually sharing in its winning, real ―other Christs‖ who take an active part in the whole redemptive plan, it will be along the same path that He took and by the same means, by pain and suffering and death offered for that purpose.

―The disciple is not above His Master‖ -nor does he wish to be. Christ suffered and died that He might redeem the world from sin; for His disciples that is enough-they will follow in His footsteps, blindly unto the end.

LIFE -GOD’S TAPESTRY

May I conclude with an illustration that I think might be of some help? You remember the exhibition of French paintings that we had out here last year-the one we all got so excited about, one way or the other-and the lovely tapestry by Lurcat that was perhaps its highlight- that glorious poem of colour-greens and limes and russets, silver, amber and black?

If, like myself, you were curious, you went up to it when you hoped no one was looking, lifted up the corner and sneaked a quick look at the back. What a shock that was, and yet what a lesson as well. At the back, literally chaos, or at least apparent chaos-a tangled mass of loose ends, loops, knots and jumbled colours- and you blinked and stared and wondered until you turned back to the finished side and examined it again in some detail-and then suddenly you knew. ―But of course- how could it be otherwise-how could he have achieved that effect without all those apparently jumbled bits at the back? They weren’t haphazard or careless at all, but all part of a carefully thought-out plan to achieve that glorious result.‖

Aren’t we doing something the same in this world- looking at the unfinished picture-the reverse side of the tapestry that God the great artist is working out to His plan as Lurcat did at Aubusson? We see only that one side-the reverse- and even that unfinished-but God-He sees it all-as it comes out now, but even more important as it will come out when all His work is finished. If having seen Lurcat’s work we can trust him to know what he’s doing—I think we may safely trust God- even though as yet we cannot see. After all, it was He who made Lurcat and gave him his wonderful gift.

THE IMPORTANCE OF TRUST

Trust-that is the important word. There is so much more that could be said on this puzzling problem of evil-but it can all be summed up in that one word, ―trust.‖ That is where we started-that is where we must end-there is no answer otherwise.

Trust -it is the true basis of all enduring love-its hard-earned price and also its greatest reward. It is based, of course, on knowledge-an intimate knowledge of the person and an abiding certainty of his love. It holds true just as surely when the person we love is God.

If we know God truly we trust Him, because we know beyond doubt that He loves us, and that the only reason in fact that He made us was that He might share His goodness with us.

And trusting Him, we accept without question from His hands whatever He may send us in the way of suffering and sorrow, knowing that however much it hurt, He sends it for our good. The problem, then, to one who trusts in God, is really no longer a problem, but a test of his trust.

One day that trust will be rewarded- that day when ―God shall wipe away all tears from our eyes, and death shall be no more, nor mourning, nor crying, nor sorrow shall be any more, for the former things will have passed away.‖ In the meantime we wait and trust, echoing the words of St. Paul: ―What, then, shall separate us from the love of God? Shall tribulation, or distress, or famine, or nakedness, or danger, or persecution, or the sword? For I am sure that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor might, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus, Our Lord.‖

NihiI Obstat:

W. M. COLLINS

Diocesan Censor. lmprirnatur:

@ D. MANNIX,

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis 24th June, 1954.

********

The Problem of Evil 2

BYM. C. D”ARCY, S.J., M.A

INDEX

INTRODUCTION

The presence of evil in this world is a fact which has at all times taxed men’s minds; so much so, indeed, that on this account many have turned away scandalised from God, or found it an insuperable obstacle to belief in His existence. Even Catholics at times seem to feel it as a shadow on God’s goodness, a skeleton, as it were, in the cupboard; with the result that the suppressed doubts and uncertainty which accompany such an unrationalised fear produce a kind of creeping paralysis of faith. To escape such doubts a clear understanding of the force of the difficulty is required, and the first step to such an understanding lies in a correct statement of the problem. Half the difficulty, indeed, is caused by vague or incorrect statements which do not admit of an answer or confuse several quite distinct questions, or leave the mind a prey to uncertainty.

The simple and correct statement of the question at stake, then, is: Why does God permit suffering, mental and physical, and the moral evil of sin in this world which He has created and governs? As seen from this statement, there are two kinds of evil; pain, whether physical or mental, and sin. God permits both: He does not cause them directly, never, certainly, sin-and as a rule not even pain. There is no reason why He should not cause pain for a good purpose-and obviously God will always have the best of purposes-but usually the pain we see around us comes from causes other than God, from natural secondary causes and the will of man. It will be noticed that the problem presupposes the existence of God- and rightly so. There is no problem if there is no God; and evil has nothing to do with the question of God’s existence; as well might we oppose the fact of free will to the equally certain fact of God’s Omnipotent Will.

It is thoroughly misleading, therefore, to state the problem as if it were a choice between two dubious assertions or facts, God exists, evil exists, one of which must be false if the other be true. Yet this is so common a delusion that the falsity of any dilemma must always be sedulously pointed out. It is responsible for much of the distress of mind aroused by the Problem and it is responsible for many false theories. For not unnaturally we find, given this false start, that some have rejected God and joined the Atheist or Pessimist fraternity; or else they have tried a compromise by thinning down the notion of God to that of a Finite Person, superior indeed to man but subject to some higher power. In this latter hypothesis room is left for much variety of opinion as to the precise nature both of the Finite God and of the mysterious Power behind Him. One view sets Good and Evil over against each other as active principles constantly at war, with the universe as their battling ground. Another against all evidence would spirit away evil as an illusion, or, less extravagantly, declare without qualification that this is the best of all possible worlds. Akin to these latter are Idealists and Pantheists, who are forced to make evil a mere appearance or necessary factor in God’s expression of Himself, a discord, ugly by itself, but contributing beauty to the theme as a whole.

CRITICISM OF WRONG ANSWERS

These, then, are the chief fundamentally false answers to the problem of evil, answers which usually proceed from an inaccurate statement of the question. They are, however, one and all defective also on other grounds. Pessimism, for instance, is more often a mood than a philosophy, a feeling that luck is against one, that Providence is strangely silent or that the ideals and end of man are unattainable. Clearly such a mood is a consequence of an implicit denial of God and Providence and is met best by more careful reflection on the value of virtue in this life as well as in the next, on the immortality of the soul and the Providence of God in His dispositions for the after life. As a philosophy, Pessimism is self-destructive. The mind which conceives the good and the ideal is made in the same breath to deny their value-and thought cannot really do that. Hence we find paradoxically that a certain satisfaction is found in this very doctrine, a clear proof of the undying optimism of the soul and its inability to deny what is its birthright. The pleasure found in such an unprepossessing doctrine is traceable to an error very widespread-namely, that of making evil into something positive in itself. Whatever is, has some value and is therefore to that extent good, evil comes in when something is not or ceases to be what it ought to be. That is, we measure evil by the failure of some being to reach its proper perfection. A monstrosity is physically evil because it does not conform to type; a human being is morally evil because of his own free will he refuses to be what he ought to be. Hence when an organism is being destroyed pain is felt; when we think of wrongdoing we are made sorrowful. From this simple truth certain important conclusions follow. First, Evil is not a positive reality comparable with good, a peer or rival. It presupposes good as shadow light; it means subtraction, deprivation, failure. Therefore it is idle to speak of a principle of evil; what is intended must be either good or a loss of good. The fallacy, indeed, of thinking of evil as a positive thing is due to the ineradicable tendency of investing it with a reality of its own; for we cannot think in negatives alone, and more often than not we are really, like the Pessimist, praising some real thing for what is good in it when we say that we like it because, or although, it is evil. Even the Devil as a being and power is good; he is evil in so far as he is a fallen angel, a spoilt spirit with intelligence and will awry. And this leads to a second corollary; a thing may be good and yet relatively evil, as matter may be rubbish when out of place. Good food may prove harmful to queasy stomachs; a poet, Plato thought, would prove evil in a city-state. Following Aristotle, Catholic philosophers usually teach that we can desire only what is apparently good. Unfortunately the desire, say, for drink and power- two most estimable things-or pleasure, may be relatively to the perfection of a nature as a whole evil. In the light, then, of such an explanation of evil, we can see that there can be no principle of evil and that God cannot desire or choose what is evil. Being omniscient, so far from overrating the value of anything, He can and must create and dispose all things sweetly and harmoniously to their proper end. Nor can He blind Himself as man does or suffer Himself to be dazzled by the attractiveness of a part which should be admired only in its relation to the whole. God then, to repeat, cannot be the author of evil. What is, is good, and evil arises out of the abuse of what is good by a finite will.

The foregoing will make it clear why the conception of a Finite God is inadmissible. In this theory God is limited and struggles against evil like us. The evil is either an adverse principle or Fate. In the account, for example, of Mr. Wells, there is a mysterious background which he leaves, in agnostic fashion, unexplored. The use of the word” God” in this theory is misleading, for really we have altruism with a tincture of mythology or “daemonism.” God is simply left out and in His place is staged a being as difficult to prove from evidence as an Archangel. Mr. Wells strains at a live devil but swallows a mysterious being, who is a blend of time-spirit, tribal god and Superman.

Clearly such a view is neither sound in itself nor illuminating in the Problem of Evil. It merely shirks the ultimate questions and is only a variation on the old Atheism and Agnosticism. The reason and justification of evil are not given, and we are not even assured of the ultimate triumph of this Finite God over the evil leagued against him. A frank denial of God would be more consistent, though to advocate Atheism on the ground of evil is desperately illogical.

And this brings us back to the misunderstanding of the nature of the problem of evil and the consequent false statement of it. It is illogical to question or deny God’s existence because of a supposed incompatability between His existence and that of evil. A difficulty doesn’t make a doubt if we are already possessed of decisive evidence for a truth. We do not doubt the existence of mind and matter despite the difficulty of explaining their inter-play. If we are surprised to find roses in full flower at Xmas we will do well not to call them by some other name or deny the time of year. A doubt can only legitimately arise when we are not certain of our proofs; when our answer to an arithmetical sum does not tally with that in the book we examine again our working: if there be no flaw then we cannot doubt our answer. So too with God; there are arguments to prove His existence; when puzzled by the difficulty of evil we are within our rights to reconsider them, but the question must be settled finally by those arguments-not by the existence of evil. Now it must here be assumed that those arguments are valid. Hence we have two facts both certain and therefore undeniable, God and evil. At first sight they do not seem easy to reconcile. That is the problem, and the answer must admit and safeguard both facts.

THE REAL PROBLEM AND THE POSSIBILITY OF A COMPLETE ANSWER

It is essential therefore to make clear what exactly is the question at stake. To repeat, there is a God Who by His very nature is infinite, omnipotent and good. There is also dreadful suffering and much wickedness in a world which He has created. How and why is this so? That is the Problem of Evil.

Now before a solution is attempted we are bound to enquire whether we have the means to find that solution. This obvious preliminary question is often forgotten with unfortunate results. The answer is felt to be incomplete and the incompleteness causes anxiety to the well disposed, while the dissatisfied take the incompleteness to mean failure. Nevertheless all those who believe in God and understand something of what His Nature must be are aware of the distinction between natural theology and the other departments of philosophy. In the former we are treating of one whose thoughts are not as our thoughts and ways not as our ways, whose nature escapes us at every turn, so that the very name God cries mystery and leaves us like Job with our hand before our mouth lost in wonderment. In all regions of thought we can reach some truth, but whereas the objects of our experience are for the most part commensurate with the strength of the finite human mind, God is infinitely transcendent and the truths we reach concerning Him are reached through negatives-the denial of the fitness of any attribute we praise to belong to Him in the manner we know it. God indeed is of such a nature that we cannot comprehend His Mind or Purposes fully; if we felt we did do so then it would not be the true God but a being brought down to the level of our own nature and therefore finite. Those then are illogical who complain of mystery, who are scandalised when they cannot explain to their heart’s content the co-existence of mercy and justice in God or Immutability and Solicitude or Goodness and the Permission of Evil; while the logical thinkers expect mystery and are alarmed at somewhat facile answers where God is concerned.

What then can we expect in the way of an answer? Clearly not a solution which means that God has put all His cards on the table, that His innermost nature is revealed to us and sight substituted for faith. But as in all other questions of Natural Theologywe ought to be able to show that there is nothing irrational in God’s Action and that it does not run counter to the justice which is required in all relations between moral beings. That is, the answer must be in the main negative; a claim that God has satisfied all justice. “Friend, I do thee no wrong.” When this is firmly established, it is permissible and possible to inquire further, to draw nearer to the burning bush and see how it behoved not only Christ but all human beings to suffer. But reason unaided cannot carry us very far, and as the greatest of the Catholic poets found, we must leave Vergil to follow after a Beatrice. This also is most certainly the teaching both of the saints and the Gospel. The saints inform us that high endeavour carries the mind with it from the valley of mists to mountain tops, whence the goodness and beauty of God shine clear; and that Agnosticism and blindness of mental sight are really diseases of the soul. The same doctrine is found in the Gospel; darkness is a culpable state. . . . . the beam in the eye has as its effect the exaggeration of motes in those of other people. Be it noted too that Our Lord seldom if ever condescends to satisfy the curious. The would-be philosopher receives no ready-made answer but is told to take up his cross and follow Christ if he would acquire true wisdom. God, then, being what He is, the mind of man unaided must find Him encompassed in mystery. The same conclusion is forced upon us if we look honestly at the actual working of human judgment. In few is reason allowed to work uncoloured by temperament, passion or prejudice-and particularly under provocation or when stung by resentment. Now pain, whether personal or endured by those we love or even by mere strangers, is the greatest disturber of serene judgment. We can with difficulty look at a far-off end when the present is filled with suffering or distress. If then children misjudge parents, and citizens misjudge long-sighted statesmen and each and all find themselves almost constitutionally incapable of trusting their own judgments save in very impersonal matters, how can we expect God, whose plans gather up in one the thousands of years of the earth’s existence and the countless lives and actions of succeeding generations, to be circumscribed by the judgment of men, especially when they are tempted to expect nothing but immediate blessings from His Hand. The disproportion therefore between the Infinite and the finite mind ever at the mercy of passing emotions is too great to allow of a comprehensive answer to the Problem of Evil. The philosopher in his library should indeed by looking before and after be able to justify the ways of God to men, but the practice of the Sermon on the Mount invites mankind to a better school of wisdom. Really it does not concern us to know all; our own particular life and destiny are what have been committed to our care; the common weal is in other hands. When, then, we grow inquisitive of the fate of others or alarmed at the misfortune and pain of others it is good to remind ourselves that no one appointed us judge in Israel-that we are quite incompetent to give a verdict. True wisdom is it, after doing what is in our power, to leave without question the ultimate fate of others and the world to God. God is in His heaven so far as each of us is concerned. He does not reveal His particular providence for each soul to all the world. Quid ad te? Tu me sequere; why be inquisitive in what does not concern thee? Thy task is to follow me.

To sum up then. The Problem of Evil is the problem how to reconcile suffering and sin with God’s goodness. God being what He is, and man so finite, we cannot expect to escape mystery. Mystery however does not debar us from reaching an answer, which will point the direction and give a right perspective. And this is enough of itself to take away that anxiety, which arises not from the mystery but from the misgiving that all is not well with God and His Providence. This lurking fear it is which weakens our conception of God and like some internal disease saps the strength of Faith.

For this rational inquiry the two sources are reason and Revelation. The former vindicates God; the latter tells us what God is really like and shows us how to live according to His grace. Remark however again that Revelation is concerned primarily with conduct and supernatural life and not with speculative answers to speculative questions. “It is not for you to know,” Our Lord answered to the merely curious, while with the educated and too reflective Nicodemus He is gently and almost banteringly ironical. To the heavily burdened however He gives the supreme answer, Himself.

Nevertheless, Revelation contains in it both the clue and the solution to the problem in so far as God wishes us to understand His Nature and Handiwork. The Doctrine of the Fall and Original Sin shows what God’s purposes were and why we have evil and are evil; and the Cross and Redemption show us how and what God thinks of mankind and in what manner sin can be called even a felix culpa. It will be convenient then to distinguish three stages in the answer to the problem. In the first, which is mainly negative, God must be freed from any suspicion of injustice and cruelty. In the second we advance further and ask can we find any positive reason why, given this creation, God should in His goodness have permitted evil; in the third stage, using Revelation to the full, we may ask why God so loved this world as to create it and make it a work of predeliction meriting praise and love from us in return.

As a beginning certain arguments sometimes brought forward must be dismissed as quite wrong or unsatisfactory. It is not true that this creation or any creation is necessary to God. St. Thomas Aquinas developing a favourite principle of his that good tends to diffuse itself (bonum est diffusivum sui) uses language at times which might seem to imply that God had necessarily to create. But he is only using for his purposes a “tag” well known to antiquity, which no one but a complete stranger to his thought and that of medieval scholasticism would interpret strictly. The word necessary can scarcely indeed be applied to God the purest of Spirits without impropriety; He is essentially free, whereas necessity connotes the impersonal and in the relation of Creator to Created, Pantheism. Again, it is incorrect to call without qualification this universe “the best of all possible worlds.” We limit God if we deny Him the power to create any other world than this; just as- though this is more subtle-we limit Him if we deny Him the right to create a world which was not the highest conceivable. As a matter of fact our mind soon loses itself in these suppositions. It is only our fancy that can fashion these better worlds and not our intellect, that sees a space beyond the end of space, and eternity as extended time. It is fancy too that holds God to be a kindly Prospero who can with a wave of his wand make everything ugly disappear, or abolish our own limitations and leave us still the self-same persons. A positive possibility is not attained by merely removing from the actual what we do not like and turning ourselves into half men and half angels. Our mind therefore must be content with just the bare assertion that a better world is possible. But we must be careful not to confuse the better world with our own Utopias. It would, on the contrary, be a totally different world; because it is impossible to have another which in its totality would be relatively more perfect. To make a plea then for a better world is to petition for our death-sentence, since we would not be the same. In short, the universe, if not the best conceivable is relatively best, relatively to us and to the end God had in view. A garage in itself may be less beautiful than a cathedral, but for its purpose it may be perfect, and we have to judge the excellence of a work by the harmony and proportion of the means to the end. An Abbey is not a Campo Santo and Westminster does not gain by being the burial ground of famous men whose tombs and monuments are often not even” santi.” And moreover so intricate is the interconnection of part with part in this world of ours that any attempt to rebuild it in better fashion might bring the whole building down upon our heads. This world with its possibility of evil is the one and only setting for human lives.

An argument sometimes used in defence of God’s permission of evil is drawn from free will. Free will, it is said, necessarily carries with it the possibility of sin, so that God cannot create free beings without the risk of their freely choosing sin. There is here, as in the preceding argument, an ambiguity. Freedom means power of choice, and choice may be said to imply the possibility of choosing wrong-though this might well be questioned. But the actual possibility may be reduced to a minimum, because creatures might so love good that they would never dream of offending against it; or God might in His Providence have given special protection. In fact the sinlessness of the Human Nature of Christ and of His Mother prove conclusively that freedom does not necessarily connote sin. Nevertheless the view does contain an important truth. The Sacred Humanity was sinless because of the function it served as united to the Godhead, and the privilege of being the Mother of God would fittingly bring with it sinlessness. But for other human beings there is no such sufficient reason apparent. The end for which mankind was created was to be secured by a certain kind of freedom, the right use of which would give a particular glory to God and a definite form of happiness, and call for definite kinds of virtue. That God should make exception to this rule in the Sacred Humanity and the Mother of God in order to help mankind is surely befitting, but the very exceptions go to prove that in the general rule freedom should imply the risk of sin. Hence we may sum up this difficult question of the relation of freedom to sin by saying that freedom does not necessarily connote sin, but, where free persons have to win their own perfection by means of their freedom and by the right use of it acquire virtues only won through effort against difficulties, there, in these circumstances, the freedom and the perfection do imply the risk of sin.

A. -GOD’S JUSTICE AND GOODNESS

The object in this, the first stage, of the answer is to show that God’s goodness is not infringed by the existence of evil. The conclusion is a negative one. Just as in theology the task is to prove that a mystery is not against reason, so here the philosopher has to prove that the two truths, God is Good and evil exists, are compatible.

The virtue which is required as a basis for relations between rational beings, that is persons, is justice, and the contrary vice will be unfairness or cruelty. Has then God been unfair or cruel? Cruelty would imply the infliction of pain for the pleasure of the act, without any adequate motive to justify it. Justice, on the other hand, would be rendered where the creature or subject received his due. If we turn then to man we find a creature possessed of intellect and will, with a desire for his happiness or wellbeing, and with a free will enabling him to work for his own well-being. In return for the right use of that free will we find God giving him a measure of happiness in this life, constant assistance and a reward of immortal life wherein he will taste of joy to the full capacity of his nature. (I leave out for the moment the extra and quite undeserved gift of the supernatural life). In other words, God has provided an end and sufficient means to attain that end. So far from being cruel He has fulfilled all justice. No one can fail of his end save by his own deliberate fault, and if man chooses evil then he can only blame himself and not God.

There is, however, a backwash to this objection of cruelty which is often more troublesome than the main difficulty. Man’s free will and the nature of his end, it will be said, may explain moral evil, but why should there be such suffering, such cruel instincts in the animal kingdom? They have no certainty of a future life; they do not profit by pain. They are in no way responsible for the evil they suffer, and yet nature is “red in tooth and claw,” their instincts are often savage, they prey on one another and suffer continually. Well, it is very difficult to answer this grievance satisfactorily, and for two reasons. First we are born sentimentalists in what concerns animals, and secondly we have no means of giving the best answer; namely, the answer of the animals themselves. It is remarkable how little we know of the experience of these creatures. We are bound to read our own feelings into theirs, and yet there is an abyss between the two. Our experience is always human-it is penetrated through and through with mind and rational desire. Eliminate these two factors and we are left with scarcely anything on which to depend for interpretation. The less mind enters into our own pains and aches the less are we conscious of them, and though it is true that philosophy may help us to endure them it is no less true that the cultured person is more sensitive, that anticipation intensifies them while the activity of consciousness gathers up the passing discrete moments of pain into one acute experience of agony. Moreover if we discard all the sorrows that come from brooding on the past or present or future, the dissatisfactions and distress that accompany human beings in their spiritual experiences, we will agree, I think, with lovers of nature who see in its life an overwhelming joy. It is said often enough indeed that children suffer more acutely than their elders, but if this is so-and it seems very doubtful-the explanation is not that they lack intelligence, but that they have intelligence in an undeveloped state. Their fears are soulfears and the mind is not yet strong enough to allay them. We see the same condition in those whose reason is affected. Evil therefore in the realms below man is an unknown quantity. Instinctively we read our own wishes and feelings into animals” lives, indulge in the “pathetic fallacy” and forget the mistake. Then, too, for some reason difficult to analyse, men and women are incurably sentimental where animals are concerned. A cinema film which depicts the devotion of, say, a dog, always draws. The tender feelings thus aroused become easily a grievance against the scheme of things when some anti-religious pamphleteer emphasises the suffering entailed in evolution and the struggle for existence. And yet reflection should bid us go slowly, for, as has been said, we know so little of the actual suffering of natures below us. A frog though dead will, if pricked, contract itself as if in pain, and we know well that bodily expression is no sure index of inward feelings. Furthermore, to speak of Nature as red in tooth and claw is surely a gross and wicked exaggeration. The first and last impression of life is joy- it is good to be alive, whether we think of a bee sucking in a flower or a blackbird singing in a lane, or a dog frisking about when let out by its master. Certainly death is everywhere too in nature; but many a tiny winged creature has only a few hours to spend, and the death, whether natural or violent, may matter little. We talk of one species devouring another, but in reality death may be as swift and instantaneous as it is unsuspected. The fly dancing in the sunlight to be devoured next instant by a swallow, what is this but a passing away after a few hours of rapturous life? The very nature of this life is to be fleeting and unreflective, and who will say that it were better for such creatures never to have existed at all?

But there is another consideration which I think will appear more profound the more we apply it to questions of this kind. This Universe of ours is no haphazard whole made up of bits which have only an accidental relation one with another. To the reverent inquirer it will reveal itself as a marvellous creation in which everything is interconnected, ordered and significant. Now man, we will assume, is the centre round which all has been constructed- or, to change the image, the terminus towards which all is directed. Take him away and the world becomes a blank; take the world away and man can never be himself, never grow in knowledge and goodness. And since man is a creature who has to learn by sensible experience, the objects of his perception have to be myriad-sided, and the pure spiritual realities have to be figured, embodied and seen analogously in all kinds of experiences. Hence the great scholastic philosophers and the mystics as well are emphatic in their belief in a hierarchy of being, an ascending order where the smallest is seen in the greatest and the greatest in the smallest. Now let us ask ourselves a question. If the world were not as we have it, could man be himself or realise the various possibilities in his nature or ascend to the ideal? The answer is certainly in the negative, and one has only to pick up any of the classics of the world’s literature to see that the Universe as we know it has been man’s primary educative force. First, the infinite variety of nature with its thousand-and-one forms of beauty, which, be it marked, could not exist without change and death; and then the infinite multiplication exhibited which manifests concretely the moral order man must realise in his own being. He sees with repugnance qualities which though innocent in creatures would be vices in him, and to take the most divine examples he learns his lesson from the so-called cunning of the serpent, the grossness of the toad, the cruelty of the shark-while, on the other hand, the simplicity of the dove, the strength and courage of the lion, the fidelity and patience of the horse are visible illustrations from the book of nature of virtues which might be belied too often by man’s own conduct. To what extent we rely on our thought on such images and examples of the world around us may be learnt by consulting any dictionary of our language. The moral of a dictionary is not that we use our sensible experience as vehicles for description of spiritual truths, but that these very truths come to life in our sensible experience. Still further, not only are we taught by nature, but we would have no means of developing many activities of the perfect human character without a suffering travailing nature to help us. For instance, tenderness, sympathy, industry are evoked by witless creatures that need our help. And in larger matters just as the steady persistent investigations into Nature’s secrecies have been an important factor in making man what he is today, so too the discovery of the strange order and hierarchy in the kingdom of living things should have enlightened man on his own station and his destiny. In himself he can find the various layers, the purely physical, the animal and the rational, and by comparison of himself with the lower orders where free will is ousted by necessity or reason by passion or mistrust he is enabled to praise God for his inheritance and make proper use of that god-like reason which is his prerogative.

Lastly, if there is this order in the inanimate and animate world so wondrously coordinated and also so carefully arranged as to provoke the reactions in man which are essential for his development, and if too it is reason which makes man godlike and lifts the shadows from our otherwise dark and uncomprehended Universe, it is perfectly legitimate to argue that God should have preferred the lesson animals may provide to the suffering they may have to endure. Being without reason and therefore personality they cannot be said to have rights to a painless existence; they have been given life, and life is no mean gift, and in turn they serve man’s ends; they sustain his bodily life; they are his companions; they minister to his needs whether for recreation or travel or research, and they are the objects which serve to increase his knowledge, satisfy the craving for beauty and the exercise of many virtues. They exist therefore for the use of man, and the good sense of mankind has always recognised this; only the “crank” is troubled because we feed on flesh meat as well as vegetables, and where conscience condemns cruelty and immotived infliction of pain and is uneasy about cock-pits and bull-fights, it freely allows sport and wild-game hunting and fishing.

B. -SIN AND HUMAN SUFFERING

The charge then that a world with evil in it cannot come from God is based on misunderstanding and false sentiment. The misunderstanding lies in thinking that only one form of creation is possible to Him; the creation, that is, of the best of all possible worlds. On this supposition any universe with various levels of beauty and goodness would be forbidden; there must be no flowers because an animal is more perfect; there must be no animal, no human being, not even, perhaps, an angel, because they are all inferior to the best God might do. Nor let it be said that the argument fails because a flower can do no wrong, but a man can and does. It is of a man’s essence that he should grow and struggle by his own efforts to his end. He cannot enjoy and appreciate his special form of goodness which constitutes his perfection without the risk of failure. One might as well invite the athlete to enjoy a certain peculiar glow of bodily health without the preceding exercise, or expect the pedestrian on Ludgate Hill to have the sensations of a climber in the Himalayas. The only retort possible to this is that the gift of freedom is not worth the pain; to which the whole world makes answer that it is freedom and adventure which make life worth living. Only the tactics of the ostrich can prevent us from drawing the obvious moral from the facts that men have braved revolutions and given their life for freedom.

But now the second question rises to our lips. Admit that God’s works are good and that He has acted fairly and generously, nevertheless why has he permitted so much evil to happen? Why do the wicked flourish and the just suffer? How account for the diseased, misshapen lives of so many-the slums, the sweating, the waste, the despair to which suffering and wrong have driven numbers? It is here, perhaps, that many are most sensitive to the Problem for in every day experience what is called Fate seems so impersonal and haphazard and harsh. Exasperated and beside themselves with resentment, some have gone to the desperate expedient of denying God-desperate because surely the denial of a loving God makes worse chaos of our intelligible universe than the admission of Him. In truth, trouble so blinds the reason that we know not what we do or ask. We kill the thing we love in rejecting God and cut ourselves off from the one possible source of hope. We ask for change and forget that the change we demand would have to be so far-reaching that all the landmarks in life we treasure, all homely and tender memories and affections would be removed. Here we approach the same answer as before, only the application is not so clear.

Before each case of suffering we call upon God to interfere, forgetting that miracles must be rare, otherwise the general order of Providence would be disturbed. Were the slums, the hospitals, the dens of sin to be abolished by a miracle the world might indeed be a better place, but it would involve a change equal to that of the Deluge; and clearly the Deluge is not a catastrophe that can be repeated indefinitely or even many times by God. And also, we know only too well from the Scriptures that a new world rising on the ruins of the old commits the same sins and that in a short while its state is no better than that of its predecessor. God has chosen a better way, which is to draw good out of the evil. When we are no longer face to face with some sad heart-rending spectacle, and our balance of mind has returned, we realise in our heart of hearts that sorrow is not sheer evil. The actual endurance of pain is horrifying, but it takes us into a world which we could not appreciate without the previous purification. And this is recognised in nearly all genuine utterances of art. The common theme of fiction and epic is victory won through trial and suffering, and life without suffering would be the play of Hamlet without the Prince of Denmark. Certain is it that many of the virtues are developed by conflict with pain and vice-courage, temperance and humility to mention but a few examples-and human experience. How often is it said of youth that time and character seems to lack some quality if untried by suffering will teach him to be a complete man! Long before Christianity, Aeschylus laid down a law that sin worketh suffering and suffering worketh wisdom.

This latter thought brings us to what is so much more serious than suffering that by many it is regarded as the only evil, namely, sin and original sin. Of original sin we need say little; but it is a clear witness that God had designed the happiest of lots for men, and that the refusal to accept His plan threw man upon his own devices and thus opened the gate to all the wilful desecration of his own nature that followed. For men dependent on themselves, possessed of free will to make or mar their lives without the special grace of God, have made the world in great part what it is. Nothing is more evident than that ours is a fallen race, that the misuse of our impaired free will is responsible for the cruelties of war, slavery and all the hideous practices which deface civilised as well as savage countries. But the worst effect of individual sin is that it can never remain individual; for it is part of the economy of God, part of the very constitution of mankind, that human life is corporate and that through its interdependence the evil of one member infects and destroys the well-being of other members. Here, in fact, lies a very far-reaching explanation of why suffering should be so much in excess of what might have been expected and why many lives are so handicapped from the beginning.

And yet out of this mass of suffering and evil God has drawn good -working into coherence what has been made incoherent, by new and strange ways, by manifesting His justice and power and making of suffering the very means of reconciliation. For suffering, so far from being necessarily evil, becomes the most sublime sign of human dignity and Divine love, and is embraced ardently by the saints as the most desirable gift life can offer. This is in. accord with the teaching of the New Testament-where Christ gave a new interpretation to suffering in the Beatitudes, reversing old values and insisting that this life is not its own answer.

To sum up this part; we can argue from the fact of freedom as it is found in this world to the conclusion that God rightly permits evil instead of always interfering miraculously to prevent it. Secondly, all will admit that suffering which produces the kind of character we admire and love is not only not regrettable but most precious. In other words only suffering that is loveless and meaningless scandalises and makes us question God. But if this truth be once admitted as a principle all argument against God ceases, for we have never any right to assert that any suffering is meaningless. When we make such assertions we do so because we do not see the purpose and value before our eyes; but clearly it is absurd to say because we do not see the purpose that therefore there is no purpose. As well might we pretend that a child when disciplined by its parents is right in complaining against them because it cannot see the good which will result. The sceptic and scoffer who harries our feelings with grim stories of wretchedness and pain is trading on our ignorance. For the principle above stated holds good here. Only purposeless suffering offends our moral sense, and we can never prove any suffering is purposeless.

C. -THE PURPOSE OF CREATION

An exception to the preceding statement may however occur to our minds, and the question involved takes us to the last stage of the Problem. ChristianRevelation teaches us of the existence of Hell and the possibility, at least, of a soul’s perpetual damnation. Here, then, it would seem, is final failure. God’s plan is wrecked and God could have prevented the disaster. The difficulty, be it noted, arises not so much from the fact of there being a Hell as from the creation of a world by God in which such a disaster is foreseen and permitted. In the Providence that guides and governs this world, Hell is not a superfluous evil, but a necessity. Two reasons amongst others will show this. Given man with the nature that he has, fear is an absolutely essential motive. In our pride we are apt to deny this and one hears often enough remarks to this effect, “that I don’t believe in a religion of fear-I don’t consider a man a man at all who is driven by fear to keep good.” Such remarks show an extraordinary blindness to the facts of life. There has never been a successful system of education, a constitution, a civilisation or a religion which has maintained itself without some appeal to this motive. And I do not believe that any man who will candidly make an examination of his own conduct will deny its efficacy and value in his own life and the folly of trying to do without it. Man without it must either be an angel or at least a saint, and a saint is unfortunately the exception and not the rule. Now if we consider what the effect in life would be to take away all risk of an eternal punishment after death for wickedness, or substitute for it even a long period of purgatorial pain, we shall be forced to admit, I think, that the world would become a very evil place and no fit inhabitation for the just. The apprehension, vague or explicit, of God as the avenger of the good and of an exorable penalty has been more or less effective in all societies of men, and when less, as in decadent and over-sophisticated periods, the appalling increase of wickedness has been a witness to its need.

The self-same point may be reinforced by another argument. One can put it best by saying that even were Hell not a revealed fact, reason would be impelled to invent it. This order of creation must have its perfect co-ordination of causes and effects, praise and blame, reward and punishment. Now man is a being with reason and will, self-determining and responsible for his choices. Those choices are concerned with man’s true end, God, and therefore are no more temporal than the truth or falsity of human judgments. They have, in other words, final values or demerits which not all the perfumes of Araby can wash away. It is our material imagination which makes us think of indefinite punishments, but really we are aware that our decisions are irrevocable, that our end as spiritual beings is everlasting and that the manner of that end depends on what we as free persons make of ourselves. No doubt we imagine God could save us from ourselves and transform the red into what is whiter than snow, but there must be a limit to such an interference by God, and the more we study Catholic theology the better shall we see that God, with His Grace and Redemption, has done everything to save which is compatible with ordinary Providence, that is, the preservation and direction of the Universe as this Universe.

The second reason is that God must reveal Himself truly, and were there no final punishment for evil then our conception of God would be inadequate and even misleading. Our moral nature requires a proportion between guilt and punishment, and though our sentiment at times anthropomorphises God or wishes to exhaust His Infinity in one attribute, Mercy, we know really that no one virtue, as we understand it, can bear the strain of supporting the plenitude of God and that it is only by the attribution of all absolute values to Him that we form a just idea of His Nature. Now were there no Hell, we should have no conception of God’s hatred of sin and of His Justice, and so man would have been left with an impaired conception of infinite Truth and Goodness.

The one big difficulty, therefore, is not why there is a Hell, but why God chooses a world in which there should have to be one. Now is this difficulty so big in the light of all that has been said so far? This Universe is good. God has given the means of happiness. He has given free will and of such a kind that the possessors of it by their own efforts can merit and acquire and enjoy a distinct and unique virtue. Suffering and the possibility of sin are entailed, but both are so bound up with the good that they cannot be eliminated without a change of the whole scheme of the Universe. Suffering also can never be shown to be meaningless, and it is only meaningless suffering that stirs our indignation. Alone, then, impenitent sin and its penalty make blotches on the Universe. But now in the preceding paragraphs it was argued that they, too, are bound up with this creation of order and Providence, hence those who accept all the good and rejoice in free will and their power to merit for themselves cannot quarrel with the consequences of this freedom. Life, they must admit, is better than play acting, and to gain the reward of peril and adventure, the risk must needs be real and not fictitious. The question therefore why God chose this world in preference to another can be met tranquilly. It has ceased to be troublesome and has passed into the region of the speculative, of “faith seeking knowledge.”

We may conclude then with some general considerations on the purpose of this world. I have called the question speculative-and the adjective mysterious might be added-for here, everyone will agree, we are surrounded with mystery. We are asking for an explanation of God’s inner counsels and supposing we know something about alternative worlds, whereas we only know the fact of their possibility. Of their nature and constitution we know and can know nothing. Again we are asking for an explanation of the purpose of this world before that purpose has been fully accomplished; we want to turn to the end of the story when we are only half-way through; to stand outside time and space when we are still in time and space; we are attempting, as a well-known writer has said, to get Heaven into our heads instead of our heads into Heaven. And again, we know little about Hell and nothing of the number who go there. But this we do know, that it is quite wrong when speaking of the latter to talk of God’s failure. God succeeds and attains his end; it is individual men who pronounce themselves failures in Hell. And in parenthesis, this very fact is sufficient to demolish the objection that their suffering at any rate is meaningless. They chose the sin and with it the consequences. These consequences are not arbitrary, but the inevitable reaction of goodness to what is bad. God would not be God and personified Perfection if He showed Himself indifferent or treated evil in the same way as good. Hence, understood rightly, it can be said that Hell manifests His Nature and redounds to His Honour.

For the rest, as St. Augustine says, “God Almighty would in no way permit evil in His works were He not so omnipotentand good that even out of evil He could work good.” He works good out of wickedness because His Nature becomes more intelligible to mankind by His response to it and the more intelligible He becomes the closer is man’s union with Him. He makes use also of that wickedness to point the moral to men and helps them to happiness by a salutary fear. Again, out of suffering He works good. The presence of ugliness and pain in the world must not blind us to the fact that the good far outweighs the evil. It is ugliness which strikes the eye because it is glaring and exceptional, but goodness is normal and ordinary and the very staple of common life. Were it otherwise, family, education, laws and institutions could have no permanence and civilisation would be nothing but a survival of the strongest. What we do find is a life where pity, gentleness, mercy and courage are everyday affairs dominating evil and enhanced by it, and the pathos and the heroism that are the outcome are so far from being regarded as a grievance or reproach that they have been emphasised in fairy tale and romance, and given typical expression, for example, in a Song of Roland. Only the jaundiced mind, then, would grumble at life as a whole. Or, to put this truth in another way, the recognition of value is, to some extent, proportionate to the nobility of the onlooking mind. “Two men looked out from their prison bars, the one saw mud, the other stars.” For a true estimate of life, as of art, a stern discipline is needed. To the sensualist the purity of an Agnes or a Joan of Arc conveys nothing, just as the Gospel of the Cross was folly to the self-satisfied Athenians. Now if we consult those who have tested life whole-heartedly, those who can be ranked as its highest examples and most attuned, so to speak, to its message, their answer, we shall find, is almost unanimous in proclaiming it good and fruitful and happy.

Can we, then, in face of the Problem of Evil, not merely excuse God, not merely defend the goodness of the world and vindicate His ways, but build a song of triumph such as we find in the Psalms of David and the liturgy of Christendom? These latter immediately supply the answer, for in the poetry of Israel and still more in the Christian spirit is the attitude of praise verified. To attain it we must put aside fear and grasp the nettle of evil firmly. Appreciation, as has been said, depends on discipline and effort, on substituting for downcast thought a soaring desire for life and that more abundantly. “Seek and you shall find.” And straightway in the midst of us is found the solution of all difficulties-Jesus Christ, the most intimate Revelation of God’s goodness and of His dealings with men. For while it is true that Christ does not explicitly argue the goodness of God in creating this particular world and in permitting evil, nor prevail over adversaries with philosophical arguments, He gives, nevertheless, a more significant answer in the portraying of God as the Father and Himself as the suffering Redeemer. Before this vision the hard surface of the Problem of Evil disappears. No longer can we harbour the suspicion that God’s choice of this world was a light one, seeing that it involved the agony and death of the Son of God Himself. The Cross of Christ takes away the sting of suffering and transforms resentment at the inexplicable pain into reverence and affection, for it bears witness to the companionship of God in suffering, to His being the supreme victim of sin and its physician through self-sacrifice.

May it not be said, then, that i t was excess rather than defect of love that led to God’s choice of this world? Love is found most strong where weakness is its object-the lost sheep calling for more care than the ninety-nine safely herded. This pathetically weak world has, at any rate, this glory, that it has served to manifest the infinite resources of divine love. And it is characteristic of this virtue, as of all other virtues, to be its own reward, to be independent of success or failure; in fact, it is seen in its most sublime form where it meets with rejection. This we know to be true from the many heroic acts of devotion in history, which profited nothing save that they left an imperishable memory. It is the spirit of such acts which we value, not the recompense-the cause, not the effects. Dimly, then, we may discern creation and still more the Incarnation as the service of love. This was the supreme and, in a sense, only motive which led God to act. It mattered not that this love might be foiled; there could be no excuse for its rejection, for killing it, and the blood would be on the head of the slayer. No blame, therefore, can rest on love for the utter folly of those who reject it. They could be saved by coercion alone and coercion is incompatible with love, which is of the nature of an offering, a pleading through selfsacrifice. We see this in human life, where the union of free spirits is attained not by force, but by sympathy, the mutual shouldering of burdens and glad co-operation. And just as a federation of mankind can be expressed only in terms of freedom and mutual affection, so too the Divine scheme is a Heaven constituted by love, where God can point to His own Cross as the symbol of His unsparing solicitude and goodness. If this be so, we can understand in part why this inferior world was chosen and why evil casts no shadow on God, but rather—” where sin abounded there most of all did Love abound.”

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The Problem of Youth

BY REV. T. GREALY

INDEX

INTRODUCTION

No problem today causes more concern to the Church and the State than that which arises from the failure of some parents to bring up their children in a truly Christian manner. We cannot expect our youths to prove themselves good citizens unless they are taught what is necessary for good citizenship. Good citizenship can be built only on a foundation of the Christian principles of Truth, Justice, Obedience and Charity. If parents do not realise this fact and act accordingly, some steps must be taken in the interest of the children and of society.

Frequently we find that one person’s morality is gauged by the other man’s faults. We have often heard people say that “You cannot get on these days if you are honest.” This seems to imply that our conduct must be bad because other men are bad.

We read much in the newspapers about “National Fitness.” It is a national neces sity, we are told. By this is meant, I presume, that every person should be physically fit to meet any physical emergency that may arise. There seems to be little thought given to moral “fitness” as a “national necessity.” In many countries some men and women have given a lead in what they are pleased to call “Moral Rearmament.” In Australia little has been done in this direction.

STRANGE GODS

Men have turned their minds so much to material things that they have practically forgotten that each has a soul. Many have forgotten that there is a God. So long as men pay too much attention to material things, so long will they place such things in a prominent position in their lives. Eventually they are set up in place of God Himself. The Commandment “Thou shalt not have strange gods before me” is not confined to the setting up of false gods in the form of idols or images. With one person money is a god, with another it is physical fitness, with another it is sport. It is extraordinary how people will go to the utmost extremes in order to adore these gods of their own making, but question them about the one true God or ask them to serve Him, and the trouble is too great either to learn such truths or to give some time to the honour of the one true God. All should be wise about the things that are above: NOT the things that are upon earth.

THE PURPOSE of the present writer is to set down a few thoughts on the allimportant subject of “The Problem of Youth” in the hope that his efforts may be rewarded, even in some small way. For the most part, what is written here is information gained from personal experience. Theories may be quite good in some things, but in the case of youths more and more experience will avail most. For the past eighteen years the writer has been a close observer of children-especially boys-and his impressions are here recorded for the benefit of those who have to deal with children.

For convenience sake this treatise will be divided into three sections, and it is hoped that readers will be able to follow each section easily.

(1) BRINGING UP A FAMILY

(2) DELINQUENCY IN CHILDREN

(3) THE REMEDIES PROPOSED FOR THE DELINQUENTS

CHAPTER I

BRINGING UP A FAMILY

EARLY TRAINING

It is the duty of parents to begin early in the life of the child to teach it obedience. Educationalists agree that the most impressionable period of a child’s life is up to the seventh year. During this period parents can make or mar the character and disposition of the child. This being true, parents should commence when the child is still in the cradle. Even the smallest child can and should be made to understand, as far as its mental capacity will permit, that it is not allowed to over-rule its parents. This does not mean that the parents are to be cruel towards their children. It means that the parents must be firm. They should not allow the child to coax them to change their minds. In later years this firmness is not to be relaxed in any way. Unless parents master the child while it is young the child will, in later life, master the parents. This sad spectacle is too often seen in otherwise good Catholic families. The fourth commandment has little meaning where such children are concerned. It is usually a case of “Parents obey your children.” Children frequently tell their parents what they wish to do and what they intend to do. Parents will admit that their child will not do what they want it to do. Just imagine a boy of 10 or 12 years of age dictating to its parents. But imagine the parents allowing the child to defy their authority!

DIVIDED CONTROL

In many homes there is a serious plague which, for want of a better name, we may call “divided control.” The father, for example, corrects the child (perhaps uses rather stern measures as the case demands) and immediately the child finds refuge in the mother. Perhaps the mother administers the correction and the child finds a “true friend” in the father. If correction is necessary, it should be administered in a kind but firm manner. Temper must not influence the correction and both parents should agree on the point. If a mistake has been made no good purpose will be served by the parents arguing about the merits or demerits of the case in the presence of the child. Great damage will be done by one parent taking sides against the other in the matter of correction.

Neither praise a child too much in his presence nor condemn him in the presence of others. Too much affection and over-confidence will eventually do a great deal to ruin the character of the child. When the child does something seriously wrong or when he reaches the age of puberty and learns certain truths, the parent who has shown too much confidence will receive a severe shock. Your child can do wrong, for he is no different from any other child. Your duty is to protect that child, and you are not protecting him by treating him like a hothouse plant. At the same time, the child should not be exposed to dangers. Back-answers are not to be tolerated under any circumstances. Obedience should be prompt and cheerful. If a child is told to do something that child should do it-not his brother or sister.

RESPECT FOR THE TRUTH and a detestation of lies will go a long way towards strengthening character. Encourage your children to tell the truth and to have a great love for it. Give them the example by telling the truth yourselves. Do not use a lie to extricate yourselves from a difficult situation. When a child has told the truth this should be regarded as at least half of the punishment for the offence, and parents need not be too severe with a child who tells the truth. However, they should be careful that the child does not think he can do what he wishes without any punishment. There is a danger that a certain bravado or insolence may arise from such over-indulgence by allowing the child to go unpunished on every occasion.

CRUELTY of any kind cannot be tolerated when dealing with children. “Spare the rod and spoil the child” is as true today as it always was, but the rod should be used with discretion-not to maim but to correct. Punching, striking on the head or back, and kicking are forms of brutality which cannot be considered as the actions of a civilised person. Such treatment can have, and actually has had, serious consequences.

In the care of very small children parents of very small children parents should not allow the “juvenile” nurse -girl to assume too much control and responsibility. This is but one example where some modern mothers shirk part of their personal responsibilities. A child is not capable of tending an infant and bringing it up in the place of the mother. It is quite easy to understand how a child may do some harm (unintentionally, of course) to an infant and be too afraid to say anything about it. Yet some mothers are only too pleased to hand their baby over to a little girl to mind. Every mother has a serious responsibility in the rearing of her children. Far more serious than many wish to admit.

COMMENCING SCHOOL

When the time comes for the child to attend school it should be taught to regard school as something necessary in its life. In the minds of some children there is a dread of commencing school simply because someone has given the child a totally wrong impression of it. A child of, say, 4 or 5 years, does wrong and the threat held over him is that “next day you will go to school and then you will have to behave yourself.” This gives the little one the impression that going to school is to be some kind of punishment for past misdeeds and he attends school with a prejudice-a prejudice that cannot be easily dispelled from his mind. He begins this all-important work with a grudge. Would it not be better to explain to the child that everyone of us must do what God wants us to do? Each person has a certain part to play in life and he must be where God desires him to be. God wishes the child to be at school as that is its place for a certain period of its life. Hence by attending school cheerfully and regularly the child will please God. I know that some will object to this on the plea that one should not “preach” at the child. This is NOT “preaching.” It is making religion part of the daily life of the individual, and religion counts for nothing unless it IS part of his daily life.

ASSOCIATIONS AT SCHOOL

The school boy comes in contact with many different characters when he begins to associate with other children. This is the time for parents to find out the company their child is keeping. Children should associate with children. Nowadays they listen too much to the conversation of adults. How proud some mothers are to hear their child say something “old- fashioned.” This so-called “old-fashioned” manner often leads to impudence. A child, no matter how young, should be checked and kept in its place. There are many avenues through which a child may exploit its talents without imitating its elders.

OBLIGATIONS OF PARENTS

When a mother leads her child to the door of the school and hands him over to the care of the teachers her obligations do not cease then and there. Parents always have obligations towards their children just as children have obligations towards their parents. Children are under the control of the teachers for about six hours each day during five days of the week. What are the children doing during the remainder of the week? In many cases they do just what THEY choose to do. It is hardly fair, then, if parents blame the school when their child does something seriously wrong. Home training must always precede school time and must go hand in hand with it. Parents should co-operate with the teachers in every way, and be sufficiently interested in the progress of their children to call at the school occasionally and have a talk with the teachers. They should not show themselves in any way antagonistic to the teachers-especially when the child is present. The teachers take the place of the parents for a short time-a mere 25 or 30 hours a week-and the teacher’s task is by no means an easy one.

WHERE ARE YOUR CHILDREN?

In a family where proper control is exercised parents will know where their children are at all times-day and night. Children trained in obedience will ask permission before leaving the home. They should state where they intend to go and at what time they expect to return. Should the child decide to go elsewhere he should remember that he was given permission to go to a certain place and before altering his destination should ask permission. . Without being too suspicious, parents should never feel certain that their child is all that they think him to be. This misplaced confidence has brought many tears to the eyes of more than one mother. The first intimation they receive of the child’s wrong-doing is when the police take charge of the boy for some serious offence. It is a good practice to inquire now and then (in a casual manner, without casting any reflection on the boy) if he has gone where he has stated he was going and with the companions he has been allowed to have. Remember that your child can do wrong. No human being is an angel.

While guarding their children against evil associations parents should not offend in the other direction by keeping the child “caged up.” Recreation within reasonable limits is necessary for everyone. A child that is “caged up” becomes morose and discontented. There is a probability that he will “break out” when least expected. He needs to associate with other children and to take part in a reasonable amount of sport.

“EARLY TO BED”

Under no circumstances should a child be allowed out at night unless in the company of a reliable adult. Late hours must not be a regular part of his life. There is still much truth in the saying, “Early to bed and early to rise makes a man healthy and wealthy and wise.” Growing boys, especially after the age of 12, are to be encouraged to rise early for their physical and moral benefit. There is no necessity to enlarge on this point. If a child retires at an early hour he will be able to rise early. You will no doubt ask what the child will do when he does rise early? You will complain that he will walk about the house and wake the others in the home. Hand in hand with sound religious training go good manners. If he is trained to give consideration to others, he will not offend in this direction. In the spring, summer and autumn he may be able to go for a swim, if he is fortunate enough to live near a swimming baths. Bike-riding (with good company) is an excellent form of exercise. Failing these recreations, it is always possible for him to improve himself by reading and by learning his school work. As a matter of fact, the morning is the most suitable time to learn lessons.

A FREE COUNTRY

Obedience and respect for authority are the foundation of a good moral training. In Australia we boast of our “freedom,” but I am afraid that we have a false idea of “freedom.” True freedom is not license, and we must not think that our freedom allows us to do just what we like without any consideration for others. Children hear their elders speaking so much about Australia as a “free country” that they think that they can do as they please. They revolt when their freedom is curtailed in any way. We, in Australia, really do enjoy a certain amount of freedom in comparison with some other countries. Any freedom that we enjoy does not mean that we are allowed to disregard the commandments of God. The moral law remains the same no matter how much freedom we may have under other laws. For example, children cannot conclude from the fact that Australia is a free country that they may disregard the fourth commandment. Nor can we conclude from the same fact that we need not observe the commandment binding us to keep the Sunday holy. No amount of freedom as far as the Civil Law is concerned can excuse us from the observance of the Law of God. The idea of freedom in this country has been exaggerated to such an extent that people are quite satisfied to do the bare essentials in everything. There seems to be a lack of initiative even in the ordinary duties of life. When it is a matter of religious practices, e.g., hearing Mass on Sundays, the duty is fulfilled more from OBLIGATION than from a spirit of religion and love. How many there are who could attend Mass on week-days and who do not bother about it. The same may be said about Evening Devotions. It seems that religion is not yet a part of the daily life of the individual.

THE MODEL FAMILY

The family is the foundation of the State. Unless the family is well trained we cannot expect the citizens to carry out their duties as good members of society. If you destroy the home or family life you will destroy the life blood of the State. The State should exist for the benefit of its members, not the members for the State. If we reverse this doctrine we substitute the glorification of the State, which is the unfortunate and disastrous teaching of some Countries at the present time. The model for each family is the Holy Family of Nazareth, in which an ideal can be found for every member. The State should not (and indeed does not) interfere with family life unless forced to do so by the incompetence of the parents. Let every parent then make home life such that interference will not be necessary. Removing children from the control of their parents is really the last resource of the State. Any social teaching which gives the State control of every child from birth to 18 years of age is to be condemned.

RELIGION IN THE HOME

Religion need not become objectionable to members of the household. If religion becomes part of the family life, it is no longer a burden but a joy. Children look to their elders for good example, and it would be very sad if this example was not found in the parents. We hear people say that they had too much religion when they were young. That is wrong. The truth is that their religious training in the home was not done in the correct way. Instead of training the child in the love of God, and teaching it to serve God through love, parents have made religious training appear to be something superimposed. In other words, religion has not been made part of their lives. They were given a superficial knowledge of it and were not made to feel that their daily conduct should be regulated by it. They have failed to realise that they depend on God for everything.

MORAL RESPONSIBILITY

Materialism and Communism are closely allied in that both deny the existence of God, and the former prepares the way for the latter. Both take away from man his dignity as a human being. Materialism makes man an irresponsible being, independent of any moral law, with no sense denying the existence of God, removes from man all restraint no matter in what direction his passions may tend. Of course it is a convenient doctrine to deny moral responsibility.

PAGAN TENDENCY

In some branches of sport we notice a tendency towards paganism, both in the nature of the sport and in the dress worn for it. On our beaches the costumes are anything but modest. We are told that we must move with the times, follow fashion, etc., otherwise we are looked on as “old-fashioned.” Notice how any attempt by those in authority to correct this abuse is resented. Another example of the false idea of Freedom! The street dress adopted by some girls is no better than that used on the beaches. Probably girls do not realise what a danger they can be to persons of the opposite sex when they go about dressed in such attire. On the other hand, boys seem to think that they, too, can go about scantily clad without being a danger to girls. The laws of modesty bind boys and girls alike. There are NO exceptions to these laws. Every boy and girl should be taught to treasure the holy virtue of modesty.

INDISCRIMINATE ASSOCIATIONS with the opposite sex are not conducive to the preservation of good morals. They become a source of temptation to both, and this temptation usually ends in disaster. Yet we hear young boys and girls openly boasting about such associations, and we find foolish parents who do not take steps to protect their children. Some children have scarcely reached their “teens when they look for and frequently find a companion of the opposite sex. Parents will tell you that they see no harm in their children associating freely with those of the opposite sex. It is evident that they do not realise how dangerous the practice can be. Surely they are not blind to the fact that their children are human like other children, and that their children are no more proof against temptation than their companions. Parents are reluctant to speak to their children about such matters or to advise them. “It is only putting badness into their head” is the plea. When a child reaches the age of 14 there is no necessity for anyoneto “put badness into his head” if it is a matter of temptations against the virtue of purity. The child should be correctly advised by its parents so that no wrong ideas will develop in the mind. A child at this age needs help and advice. Once the child feels that some one is taking an interest in him he will experience more courage to resist temptation. Advice of this nature should come from the correct source, namely, from the parents, and the child is to be warned not to listen to unauthorised persons speaking on the subject. The reading of secular books dealing with sex matters or viewing motion pictures treating with the same subject is not only to be discouraged amongst

Catholic children. but forbidden. Let the parents do their duty. They will find sufficient Catholic books on the subject that will give their children all the advice and instruction they need.

When children have been taught their prayers and have learned portion of their religious duties, they are inclined to think they know enough about religion. If they wish to succeed in business or in some other occupation they will continue to study for years after school age. Is it not far more important to learn as much as possible about the work of salvation? It is possible to learn more every day. In addition to what a child learns from the catechism there is much about which he can and should be warned. His experience is not as wide as older people. There are many things that children need to be told.

THE DIFFICULT AGE

Nearing the age of puberty a child needs special care. He should be encouraged to the frequent and worthy reception of the Sacraments of Confession and Holy Communion. In these sacraments he will receive strength to help him through this difficult and dangerous period of his life. It is possible (and very probable) that a boy at this stage of development will become troublesome to those about him. Instead of ignoring him or losing patience with him, the father should adopt an attitude of sympathy and kindness towards him. He will make sure that the boy gains the correct view of certain facts of human life. Human beings are composed of a body and soul. A temptation to commit sin is really a conflict between these two elements in man (Epis. to Romans vii., 17–25). It depends on the manner in which man uses his free will whether he will sin or not. I wonder has it ever occurred to many people that sin places man on a level with the brute beasts, and unnatural acts such as are done in sins against the virtue of purity make man lower than the animals? Man is sometimes guilty of actions that no other animal has ever done. The grace of God is sufficient to overcome any temptation, and an abundance of grace may be obtained from the frequent and worthy reception of the sacraments. A boy can have a totally wrong idea of certain natural physical events which occur about the age of puberty unless the father has sufficient interest to warn him and dispel these wrong ideas from his mind.

At this period a boy needs careful spiritual training. Difficulties in matters of conscience should be solved by the priest in Confession, but, outside the tribunal of Penance, it is the duty of the father to see that his boy is not subjected to dangerous occasions of sin of which the boy himself may be quite ignorant. Fathers of families then should take a serious view of everything that may, in any way, endanger the spiritual or moral welfare of their offspring.

“PREVENTION BETTER THAN CURE.”

If I may seem to have dwelt for a long time on the subject of the correct rearing of children, it is because I am quite convinced that it is through the neglect of parents that most of the trouble arises amongst youths. If it is true to say that “prevention is better than cure” I feel confident that in the case of delinquent children we should seek out the cause before we can apply any remedies for delinquency. There can be no doubt that in the vast majority of cases the absence of home training is responsible for the downfall of our youths. Home training must be founded on RELIGION, and that religion must be practical, not only on the part of the children, but also on the part of the parents. We can never expect to overcome the evils of the day unless there is a sincere return to sound Christian principles.

CHAPTER II. DELINQUENCY

A careful examination of cases which have come under notice in the Children’s Court has shown that well over 90 per cent. of the delinquents came from broken homes. Under the separate headings I shall try to point out the significance of the term “broken homes,” and incidentally show the reason for a large percentage of delinquency.

(A) LACK OF CONTINUITY IN RELIGIOUS TRAINING takes away from the home that religious spirit which should exist in every home. “Some parents seem to think that they are not obliged to do anything in the religious education of their children. They have the false idea that the school does everything in this direction. They think they have little or no obligations when they have enrolled their children in a

Catholic school. When the children leave school, parents make no effort to keep them attentive to their religious obligations.

(B) PARENTS WHO ARE CARELESS IN THEIR RELIGIOUS DUTIES AND DOMESTIC RESPONSIBILITIES pave the way for waywardness in the children. We can hardly expect children to carry out their duties in a conscientious way if their parents do not give the example. How often we have heard parents admit that they do not attend

Mass on Sundays and then excuse themselves by saying, “I always see that the children go.” Is not example the best teacher?

Such parents may be regarded as socially and externally respectable. They observe the laws of the country. They keep their homes clean and tidy. They do not quarrel with neighbours. But how do they stand in the sight of God? Are they acting as they should towards Him, or, in other words, are they so respectable in His estimation? No man can honestly come forward as a “reformer” or a teacher until he has “reformed” himself. A man (or a woman) who is estranged from

God is a long way from being a reformer. If such a one cannot give to God what is due to Him, how can he expect to be honest with his neighbour? In his own life he robs God of what is due to Him. In such circumstances, how can this person bring up children correctly?

(C) MIXED MARRIAGES are another source of difficulties in the rearing of children. Even in cases where the required promises have been signed before the marriage, and are to some extent observed, there is something wanting in the lives of the children. In order to have a true continuity of religious training in the home, both parents should be practical Catholics.

(d) Lack of Interest in the Children, Their Conduct and Welfare slowly but surely gives them the impression that they can do what they like and no one seems to take much notice. They are not taught to know God and His law. They have no fear or respect for God or man. If religion is not taught, there is nothing to induce restraint on their actions. If children are trained in justice and charity they will respect their fellow man and his property. Even in school the boy who cannot leave his record on the school roll had better not leave his name on the desk. The desk is not his property. It may not be out of place here to quote the words of one of our magistrates with regard to the lack of interest shown by parents. Mr. Arnold, S.M., speaking in the Sydney Central Police Court (May 15, 1939), about youths who take cars and use them and either damage the cars or endanger the lives of people by reckless driving, said: “The stage has been reached when I think the only thing to do is to send these youths to gaol even for a first offence. From my experience in the Children’s Court I know the parents are to blame in many cases for not exercising any control. Their children are out till all hours, yet no attempt is made to find where they have been or what they have been doing. If mothers and fathers exercised more control over their children there would not be so many of these car stealing cases.” What he says with regard to car stealing is equally true of other offences also.

(E) A MATERIAL AND MERCENARY OUTLOOK on the part of the parents leads the child to believe that all that is required of him in life is that he be of some service to the home financially. The very day after his 14thbirthday he is sent off to look for his first “job.” We know, of course, that in some homes it is necessary for children to leave school and earn money to help to support the family. As a general rule the parents who need the help most are those who do not wish to let their children leave school. Were it not a matter of necessity, they would allow them to continue their education rather than expect them to leave school at 14 and earn money for the upkeep of the home.

(F) WHEN PARENTS ARE DRUNKARDS home training and good example are practically at their lowest. The example set by such parents has a bad effect on the children. Quarrels are of frequent occurrence and children lose respect for drunken parents. Frequently the children are the victims of drunken quarrels through physical violence. Drunken parents are NOT capable of caring for their children.

(G) PARENTS WHO FOR SOME REASON DO NOT LIVE TOGETHER have only half a home. A child can hardly have any respect for a home where the mother will not live with the father or vice-versa, and/or where one parent has an unlawful partner living in the home. Can you imagine such children growing up with respect for authority or with any regard for the sanctity of marriage? There is little respect for the Sacrament of

Matrimony in the world today. This is clear from the long list of divorces we see from time to time in the newspapers.

Very little discretion is exercised in choosing a partner for life. Young people who believe in divorce will not bother about this very important consideration. Would it not be a good idea if they paused and thought of the little ones they would bring into the world before they make any arrangements for a marriage? Many take a girl out with no other intention than violating her virginity. Lust rather than true love is the motive.

Men are careful to breed cattle well so that the stock will not degenerate. How much more important for men and women to choose their partners carefully so that their offspring will not be degenerates. Not enough thought is given to marriage and its consequences because divorce is too easy.

(H) PUBLIC SCHOOLS are a great danger to the Catholic home. The Catholic child who attends such schools will receive, at most, only about one-fifth of the religious training he should have. There he associates with some children who come from homes where they have not been taught religion of any kind, and with others who are even taught to deny the existence of God. A child is influenced by environment. I am not attacking or condemning the public schools as such. They are doing good work in the material education of the children, but teachers are in the unfortunate position of not being permitted to instil Christian training into the minds of the young. They can encourage “good clean living” in the broad outlines, but they cannot give anything definite in the way of religious teaching. As religion is the foundation of education, there is something wanting in our education system, at least as far as the Catholic child is concerned. Our education system, which is free intellectually and financially, has led many to believe that they can do what they please with regard to both God and man.

In country districts where parents have no choice but to send their children to a public school, one usually finds that the children are instructed by the parents, and there is some kind of religious atmosphere in the home. Our excellent Religious

Correspondence Courses now in use in the country help the Catholics to understand their duties better. As a rule, it is not the country children who give us most concern in the lack of religious training and subsequent delinquency.

(I) STEPFATHERS AND STEPMOTHERS are not always a success in rearing the children of the former husband or wife. It matters not whether these step-parents are the result of the death of the father or mother or of a divorce. In the latter case, however, the position is less hopeful.

(J) TRUANCY over a lengthy period is usually the forerunner of delinquency. Children who play the “wag” must find something to occupy their time, and the tendency is to get into some kind of mischief. During the time of the truancy they often associate with boys of questionable character. Truancy can be attributed to two main causes:

(1) Some defect in home, or parental control.

(2) Some defect in the child.

In the first case, the causes I have outlined as regards delinquency are applicable.

In the second case the child may have some bodily ailment which hinders him from applying himself to his work or which even makes his work almost impossible. Again, the child’s intelligence may not permit him to keep pace with the work done in school. The result is that he becomes downhearted and thinks there is no use trying to learn. He has a dread of going to school. In ordinary daily life no person is expected to perform a task beyond his strength or ability. Why expect a child to do it? I have already said that parents should co-operate with the teachers in the education of their children. It is not much encouragement or example for the children when parents criticise teachers in the presence of the children. It is far worse when parents show themselves antagonistic to the teachers. Parents should remember that teachers are trained for their work in the schools and deserve some credit for what they do. Parents are not trained for teaching children in school, and hence have no experience in this direction. I repeat that the work of a teacher is not easy. Parents often complain that they find it hard to control two or three children. Some fail to control even one child correctly. What, then, must be the task of the teacher who has as many as 50 children in one class? You can take it for granted that all those children are not angels. There is a tendency these days to take the part of the child against the teacher without the facts having been made clear. As a general rule, the parent would be wise not to let the child know if any complaint has been made to the school unless it is something concerning the conduct of the child himself. A child who loses respect for authority will prove himself a difficult problem for parents and teachers alike. However, parents should at all times guard their children against false teachers of any kind.

“CATHOLICS ARE FILLING OUR GAOLS”

From time to time we hear people say that “Catholics are filling our gaols.” This is not true and therefore is no slur on the Catholic Church. If a large number of Catholics are brought before the Court, the blame is to be attributed to the parents NOT to the Catholic faith. Most of the cases that come before the Court are the product of irregular homes. I have shown that delinquency for the most part is the result of bad home surroundings and lack of training and religion. Not one child in ten of the Catholic children brought before the Children’s Court comes from even a fair Catholic home. It is equally unfair to blame Catholic education, as not two cases in ten are the product of a true Catholic education. It is usually found that there has been a break (and sometimes a long break) in the period that the child has attended a Catholic school. Parents often change the child from one school to another-from State school to Catholic. It will be seen then that most of the trouble is due to careless parents and the consequent lack of home and religious training.

DISCIPLINE NECESSARY

On June 14, 1939, the Commissioner of Police in N.S.W. was reported to have said: “My opinion is that until the people of this State attack crime at the cradle and get the youths banded together and disciplined, we will have waves of crime.” (vide “S.M. Herald,” June 14, 1939.) Yes, discipline is vital in the control of the young people, and if they are trained while young there will be some hope for them when they grow older. This discipline must be personal and social, so that the best results may be secured. Social discipline will follow quite naturally once the individuals learn selfdiscipline. Each one should know himself (or try to know himself) and endeavour to correct what he finds wrong in his character.

CHAPTER III REMEDIES

The remedies to be applied for the prevention of juvenile delinquency concern the Churches, the State and the parents. Under each of these headings I shall discuss the means to be adopted.

(1) THE CHURCHES should be active in the instruction of all the people under their care. Religion is the foundation of education. No education is complete without it. Therefore, they should insist that proper CHRISTIAN education is given to all children by the competent religious authority. If correct instructions were given in the virtues of TRUTH, JUSTICE, OBEDIENCE and CHARITY, there would be little fault to find with the average youth. Religion must form part of the daily life of the citizen. It is NOT something for Sunday alone. Since we all belong to God, it is quite true to say that religion should be the main part of our lives. It is not acceptable to many because no material gain can be derived from it. A more active campaign for a return to religion is necessary before we shall have made even a start in the right direction.

THE NEWSPAPERS could do quite a lot to foster and encourage religion amongst the people. The same may be said of the radio. But we know well that there is nothing to be gained, in the material sense, from religion. There is no money to be made by encouraging people in this way. On the contrary, there is more profit to be made by encouraging people to indulge in “border-line” amusements. We read much from time to time in the newspapers about the care and cure of delinquents. Many theories are advanced, but we do not find the daily newspapers advocating a little more religion in the community. The daily newspapers are supposed to be the expression of public opinion. We live in what we are pleased to call a Christian community, but is there, after all, a great deal of REAL Christianity in our country? Christianity has NOT failed, but men have failed in their religious duties, and it is the DUTY of the newspapers to try to restore that Christian spirit. We do not desire the newspapers to commence a campaign of dogmatic teaching, but we DO expect that those who read them would be encouraged to practise their religion in a conscientious manner. How often we find that something detrimental to a particular religious body is reported in “screaming” headlines while no serious effort is made to encourage people to be truly religious. The newspapers should at least give Christian principles a fair chance and impress upon their readers to do the same. Are those newspapers one with the man who considers that “religion is the dope of the people”? Christ has said that he who is not with Me is against Me. By their very silence it would appear that the newspapers are NOT wholly WITH CHRIST. Are we still going to blunder along with theories and work in the dark without the light of religion? Why could parents who lived from 30 to 50 years ago rear children correctly without the aid of our presentday “science”? There was no “psychology” to help THEM find out what made their children disobedient. Yet they seemed to get along quite well and reared sons and daughters who have been a credit to their country. There is no reason to believe that they would have done any better if they had been aided by modern “psychology”-without a soul.

Why has delinquency increased in these days? It takes two generations for an evil system to have its effects upon the people in the sense that it becomes noticeable to its victims. How long has our secular education system been in operation in this country? Well over 50 years, I should say. Can you imagine what the next generation will be like?

THE LAYMAN’S P ART

It will be noticed that many representative people do not consider it their duty to encourage religion as the solution of our present-day problems, yet if we are to make any progress in the solution of our difficulties, it is the most important consideration of all. In conversation, people will agree that religion and proper parental control are the most necessary items in the training of the child. Why do they not advocate these in public? They have the false notion that religion is a matter for theminister of religion alone to teach and encourage. “Let your light shine before men” does not mean that a layman’s religion should be confined to the house in which he lives, or to the church in which he worships on Sundays.

(2) THE WORK OF THE STATE

In conjunction with the spiritual work of the churches, the State can and is bound to provide for its citizens so that they will have a respectable existence. The State has no right to interfere with the spiritual life of the citizen, but it is bound to encourage Christian principles. It is the duty of the State to see that its people receive a LIVING WAGE that is sufficient for a family to live in comfort. Many of the hovels that glory in the name of “homes” should be demolished and com- fortable homes built for the working people. Well supervised parks and play-grounds are also necessary so that children would not be forced to play in the streets. In fact, every effort should be made to keep the children off the streets as much as possible.

INSTITUTIONS fordelinquent children should not be conducted by the State on more or less “go-as-youplease” lines. Strict discipline should be enforced and religious training should be given to make up for what the child has lost in the broken home.

Hence delinquents should be cared for in denominational institutions where the religious training would be carried out correctly. It is ridiculous to take a delinquent, place him in an institution and then allow him to do practically what he wishes while he is there. These children would not have come before the Children’s Court if they were not lacking in obedience and self-control. Why not endeavour to teach them these two virtues at least? Training in truth, justice and charity should do much to make the delinquent better than he was. While I do not advise or condone cruelty of any kind, still it is a fatal mistake to pamper many of these children in any way.

SCIENCE

It is expecting too much if we try to overcome by modern “scientific” and materialistic methods, an evil that is mainly spiritual. No amount of science can take the place of the Ten Commandments. The indifferent and irreligious spirit that is so common in the world today is but the gradual result of the Reformation of the 16th century, aggravated by secular education. We are very optimistic if we imagine that we can cure in a comparatively short time an evil that has been maturing for the past 300 years. Society in general needs regeneration in order that we may produce the desired effect on the delinquent section of society.

HOSTELS for certain classes of children would be an asset, e.g., for orphan children from 14 to 18 who are earning their living and/or children who can conduct themselves well enough when away from bad home surroundings. Such hostels should be under denominational control and conducted in a truly religious atmosphere. In other words. the hostels would make up

(in some way) for what the child has lost in its own home through the carelessness of the parents.

Our governments are supposed to be Christian, so their work for the people should be Christian also. Our civilisation depends on how much Christianity there is in the community.

(3) PARENTS NOT EXCUSED

Although the Churches and the State may do their part, this does not excuse the parents from their obligations. They must realise that their domestic happiness and the peace and happiness of the community depend entirely on the amount of religion there is in the home. On the parents rests the responsibility of bringing up their children as God wants them to be instructed. At times their work may be hard, but they should not shirk their obligations just because they find it a little difficult to do what is right. Much of the blame for delinquent children can be attributed to the parents and in many cases the parents and not the children should be prosecuted in the Court. A father or a mother will go to great trouble to excuse a child’s fault which really amounts to excusing themselves. There is little use trying to impress religious principles on children unless there is good example shown by the parents.

USE OF SPARE TIME

Children should be taught to use spare time well. e.g., by being interested in some useful hobby. Figures supplied by the St. Vincent de Paul Society Probation Committee for 1938 show that the number of boys on probation at the age of 14 was just double the number of the age of 13. From the age of 14 there was a slight increase in numbers up to the age of 17. This would seem to indicate that when the boys leave school they are at a loss to know how to use their spare time. They drift away from home, go with bad companions, and are tempted to make a nuisance of themselves. If they were encouraged to have lawful hobbies, they could use their spare time well. Wherever possible boys should be bound to a trade and then the nights would be well occupied by attending a Technical School.

The slogan to be adopted by all parents is:-”Our children must be kept off the streets at night.” You will ask then what will the children do at night. Many of them should be in bed an hour or two earlier than they are seen on the street. The remainder can occupy themselves with something useful. I have outlined above how time may be spent with profit. There is an old saying that “Idleness is the devil’s playtime.”

PICTURE SHOWS

A strict censorship must be exercised over the films that children are allowed to see, and the books they are allowed to read. Some of the films are dangerous because they are not well censored. Parents take too much for granted in this matter. While we know that nothing openly immodest would be allowed to appear on the screen, still suggestive films are frequently shown. We have a public censor who does his work well, but parents should not be satisfied with that censorship. The obligation is on THE PARENTS to find out if a film is fit for their children to see and to make sure that there is nothing in the film which offends against faith or morals. No child should be allowed to think he has the right to go to picture shows. Neither should the child be allowed to tell his parents what pictures he will attend. The parents are the judges in this matter. Many children attend the pictures each week more regularly than they attend religious duties. Privileges of any kind are a reward of good conduct. If the child has not behaved himself during the week then let him understand that privileges will be forbidden until there is some improvement in conduct. Parents frequently fail in this way. They are inclined to overlook misconduct too easily. I do not mean to say that they should keep “nagging” at the child on account of some fault, but, at the same time, the child must realise that he has done wrong and cannot expect a favour immediately after an act of misconduct. Children soon realise that they can win over weak parents. Your “no” should be “no,” and you should mean “yes” when you say it. A cute child will play on the affections of weak parents.

MODERN ENTERTAINMENTS

Besides the picture shows and uncensored books, there are two other dangers about which we must give a note of warning. These are modern “dancing” and modern “music.” Neither of these has valid title to its name. One has only to walk into a dance hall to realise this. The rubbishthat is given over the air under the title “music” makes one feel ill. Both modern dancing and modern music are dangerous to morals. The same can be said about any of the films. This does not mean that each person may be affected in the same way or by the same kind of amusement. Such amusements undermine the moral fibre of many, and on that account are a danger to the community.

Nihil obstat:

F. MOYNIHAN, Censor Deputatus.

Imprimatur:

@ D. MANNIX,

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis.

Oct 20, 1944 ********

The Propagation of The Faith

VERY REV. JAMES H. HANNAN, D.D., PH.D.,

INDEX

THE Propagation of the Faith was first a founded as a Society in the year 1822, by Pauline Jaricot, in the city of Lyons, in France, and for the first hundred years of its existence was spread under the administration of a committee of French clergy and laymen. In the year 1922, Pope Pius XI., in the Motu Proprio, “Romanorum pontificum,” dated May 3, transferred the Society for the Propagation of the Faith to Rome, changing its status from that of a more or less private venture to become a Pontifical work, and the official instrument of the Holy See in enlisting the help of every single Catholic in the world towards the fulfilment of the common crusade of Christianity to “Go into the whole world and preach the Gospel to every creature.”

THE PROPAGATION OF THE FAITH

The erection of the Society for the Propagation of the Faith to the status of a Pontifical work means, in effect, that the Propagation of the Faith must take precedence over every other form of mission aid. Further, all other forms of mission aid are allowable only in so far as they do not directly interfere with fundamental work of the Propagation of the Faith. This does not signify, by any means, that it is wrong to raise money for the missions by other means than through the Association for the Propagation of the Faith. To quote the words of a decree of the Superior Council of the Propagation of the Faith, dated April, 1928: “The Superior Council realising full well that the Pontifical Society for the Propagation of the Faith is insufficient in itself to meet all the various needs of the missions, does not hesitate to declare that it is nowise its purpose to hamper Missionary Institutes in soliciting support for their missions, but it does earnestly hope that these Institutes will not fail to recommend this Pontifical Society to their friends and benefactors and to persuade them to enrol in it for the reasons given above.”

The Society for the Propagation of the Faith is an association of all the faithful, of all languages and of all countries, whether newly admitted to the fold of the Faith or tracing their Catholicity back through centuries. The purpose of this world-wide Association is to unite the prayers, the interests, and the sacrifices of millions for the spread of the name of Jesus Christ the Redeemer to every land; even to those in which Christ is still an outlaw.

IT IS AN OBLIGATION

Our Blessed Lord’s commission to His Church to “Go into the whole world and preach the Gospel to every creature” embraces the whole membership of that Church. Pope and Bishops, priests and people, must all, each in accordance with his station in life, do what they possibly can to carry out this command of Our Divine Lord. The spiritual and temporal support of the missions is not simply part of the vocation of a few, but is a common obligation of every member of the Church. There are many ways of fulfilling this obligation; but the principal way, because it is the official way, is the Pontifical Association for the Propagation of the Faith. Of this Association his Holiness Pope Pius XI. says: “All Christian people should aid, through their generosity, the work of the Propagation of the Faith, which of all missionary organizations is the principal one; we have given it charge of all the missions that exist at present or all that shall exist in the future.”

Speaking at the audience given to the Superior Council for the Pontifical Society for the Propagation of the Faith on May 19, 1936, his Holiness made the following statement: “It is well to note, my dear sons, that persons with such responsibility as you have the right, and, to a certain extent, the obligation not merely to recommend and to persuade, but rather to indicate the strict duty of all Christians towards mission co-operation, because they are Christians, living members of the Mystical Body of Christ and possessing the precious gift of Faith which immense numbers of men do not possess, because they have not received the smallest announcement of the Divine Redemption.”

This doctrine is characteristic of all his Holiness has said with regard to the work of the Propagation of the Faith. The Encyclical, “Rerum Ecclesiae,” addressing the Bishops of the world, remarks: “No one of the faithful can free himself of this duty. What, indeed, shall we say of you, Venerable Brothers, raised as you are to the fulness of the priesthood, and each of you finding yourself in your diocese at the head of your clergy and your Christian people? It is not only to Peter, whose Chair we occupy, but to all the Apostles, whom you succeed, Jesus Christ, as we read, has given the command, “Go into the whole world and preach the Gospel to every creature.” Whence it follows that the task of spreading the Faith falls to us . . . for in a matter of such great importance we must all one day render a strict account to God.”

IT IS NOT A COLLECTION

It must be clearly understood that the Propagation the Faith is not a collection but a devotion. The obligation that is placed by the Holy Father on the whole Catholic world can in no way be fulfilled simply by an occasional contribution to a collection. In this matter we simply have no choice, the laws of the Church in this regard are perfectly clear. The obligations of the Propagation of the Faith may be grouped under three heads:

Interest. Every Catholic must learn to consider the missions as part of his ordinary life as a member of the Catholic Church. He must read about them, he must hear about them, he must think about them and read, and hear, and think of the missions as something of definite personal interest.

Prayer. Having learnt of the missions, the Catholic people must be taught to pray for the missions. This prayer for the missions, and for the spread of the name of Christ to every corner of the earth, must not be a merely impersonal effort. Catholics must be convinced that they should pray for the missions as they would pray for a real personal need, as they would pray, for something that is definitely and intimately connected with their own chances of salvation. The Propagation of the Faith imposes the minimum of prayers: “One “Our Father,” one “Hail Mary,” one “St. Francis Xavier, pray for us,”” for daily recitation. The advantage of these prayers is, first of all that they are official, and, secondly, they are universal to the whole of the Catholic Church throughout the world-common to every language, common to every country, common to rich and poor alike.

Material Assistance. The material contribution as membership of the Propagation of the Faith is so arranged that the contribution may be within the power of every single Catholic, no matter what his financial state may be. One halfpenny a week, amounting to two-shillings and twopence for the whole year, is the ordinary contribution of Australian Catholics. The regular contribution of this small sum is of immensely greater benefit to the Association and to the end for which it has been established than the contribution of ten times the sum given simply and perfunctorily in an annual collection. If every single Catholic in the whole world made this very small contribution, the financial problems of the missions for a great many years to come would be effectively solved.

Besides this ordinary subscription there is a special subscription of £1/1/8, for those who are in a position to enrol themselves and nine of their friends as members of the Association. Perpetual membership of the Association, which carries with it all the spiritual advantages during life and participation in the daily Mass that is offered at the tomb of St. Peter in Rome every morning for deceased members of the Association, may be obtained by the payment of £8 once and for all.

The Mission Sunday collection, although recommended by the Holy See is not strictly part of the organization of the Propagation of the Faith-it is a welcome addition, and depends on the Bishop’s orders.

A special clause governs the membership of those people who are too poor to pay even the small sum of one halfpenny a week for membership of the Association. Membership of the Association for such as these consists in the daily recitation of the prescribed prayers, and in the contribution, if at all possible, of some small sum, no matter how insignificant, within the twelve months. Where the Propagation of the Faith is established in mission lands, and this is especially true of the South Sea Islands, material assistance as part of the membership of the Association very often takes the form of goods in kind, or giving one day’s work in the twelve months for the benefit of the mission.

“CATHOLIC MISSIONS.”

The official organ of the Association in Australia is the monthly magazine, “Catholic Missions.” It is published with a purpose of arousing the Catholic people’s interest in the work of Catholic Missions, and every attempt is made to cover the whole field of missionary activity in so far as space and opportunities permit. “Catholic Missions” is supplied free to promoters of the Society in order that all members of the Association may have an opportunity to read it. Special members and life members also receive a monthly copy of the magazine. Any person who may wish to receive a personal copy of the magazine each month may do so by paying, instead of the ordinary subscription of 2/2 for the year, a special subscription, called the magazine subscription, of 5/- a year.

ORGANISATION OF THE SOCIETY

INTERNATIONAL

The Society for the Propagation of the Faith throughout the world is ruled by a General Superior Council, with its headquarters in Rome. The president of this Council is ex officio the Archbishop Secretary of the Congregation of Propaganda. Its members are a number of distinguished workers in the cause of the missions resident in Rome, together with the National Directors of all countries in which the Society is established. The General Superior Council meets in Rome each year, and one of its duties is to divide the money collected throughout the world among various mission fields in accordance with their needs.

Note: Australia has a special privilege with regard to the funds collected for the Propagation of the Faith. By special permission of the Holy See, the Australian National Council is permitted to keep one-third of the funds raised in Australia for distribution among the missions within the Commonwealth of Australia. Thus, every year, the aboriginal missions and the dioceses where the Catholics are living in scattered communities spread over wide areas are considerably helped by the National Council for the Propagation of the Faith.

NATIONAL

In every country where the Society is established, a National Director is appointed. The National Director is appointed by decree of the Sacred Congregation of Propaganda, and, as he is appointed, so also he can only be removed from his office by decree of the same Congregation. Associated with the National Director are a number of others who form the National Council, representing, as far as possible, the various parts of the country. In Australia, besides the National Council, there is a National Episcopal Committee, presided over by his Excellency the Apostolic Delegate, to promote and assist the proper organisation of the Society in the Commonwealth, as well as to act as the distributing body for the funds available for Australian missions.

Acting in concert with the National Director, there is in each diocese the Diocesan Director, appointed by the Bishop of the diocese, who organises and controls the affairs of the Propagation of the Faith within that diocese.

ORGANISATION IN THE PARISH

GENERAL

The following paragraph is from the Pontifical Statutes of the Propagation of the Faith “Since the parish is, as it were, the vital cell of the diocese, it can easily be seen how necessary it is that the Society of the Propagation of the Faith should be firmly established there. On the parochial organisation, in fact, the whole foundation and eventual progress of the Society depend. The efforts of the National Council and the National Director would be altogether futile if there were no activity in the parish and zeal for the cause of the missions was unknown there.

“Let the parish priest, therefore, realise how impor tant it is for the life of his parish to engender in his people a sense of their responsibility towards the missions. He should know that God, in return for zeal for the missions, will abundantly pour forth His blessings for the good of all, especially by strengthening the people’s faith, by bringing the people more frequently and nearer to God through the Sacraments, by multiplying vocations to the ecclesiastical and religious state, by bringing back many a stray sheep to the fold. If he forgets that the gift of Faith which the souls under his charge have in their possession was not given as a merely personal gift, to be kept selfishly to themselves, but is a common gift which must of necessity, be given to others, he will hope in vain for any kind of real spiritual progress in his own parish.”

After all, the Catholic Church was brought into this world with the command: “Go into the whole wor ld and preach the Gospel to every creature.” The Catholic Church cannot rest on its conquests, cannot stay within its walls and count the souls that have been gained as a miser counts over his gold. The parish that has no thought whatsoever outside its own boundaries cannot really be a part of the Catholic Church.

PROMOTERS

The Association for the Propagation of the Faith is completely the laity’s share of the Church’s crusade for the reign of Christ. Not only are its members to be recruited from the ranks of the laity but its organisers must be found also amongst the laity. It is the definite command of the Sacred Congregation of Propaganda that the organisation of the Propagation of the Faith should be uniform throughout the world. In order that the Association be established in a parish, it is necessary that a number of people be prepared to act as promoters of the Association.

Where the organisation is complete there is one promoter for every ten members of the association -that is, one promoter for every ten adult persons in the parish. In this regard it must be noted that, as far as the Propagation of the Faith is concerned, those over the age of twelve years are to be considered as adults. Naturally enough, there are promoters ,whose zeal and whose opportunities exceed those of others; sometimes one promoter will represent five or six more groups of ten.

The position of a promoter is of immense importance. One of the main objects of the Association is to get the Catholic people to accept their obligation in regard to the spread of the Catholic Faith, and to carry out that obligation with only the minimum of direction from Ecclesiastical Authority. Acting under the authority of the parish priest, an energetic group of promoters can relieve him of all worry and all responsibility with regard to the enrolling of the members in his parish in the ranks of the Mission Aid Society.

Promoters are required to enrol members of the Association to instruct them in their duty regarding the three daily prayers and to collect from them at whatever period it is most convenient one halfpenny a week, amounting to 2/2 for the whole year for ordinary members. A special membership is paid once for the whole year, and a perpetual membership once for a lifetime. Promoters should receive monthly a copy of “Catholic Missions” which, after perusing themselves, they are expected to pass on to those members whom they have enrolled in the Association. This is the practical way of fulfilling the condition of membership which enjoins the taking of an intelligent interest in the cause of the missions.

The office of a promoter is a very important one, because it is designed by the authority of his Holiness the Pope himself, it is directly concerned with the work of the salvation of souls, and it is a great work of charity in that it provides an opportunity for many others to fulfil what is the God-given duty of every Catholic.

THE PARISH PRIEST

Everyone with a thorough and exact knowledge of missionary co-operation who has had practical experience in this field, even if only for a few years, is convinced that the backbone of the whole movement must ever be the parish priest. Heads of National Offices and Diocesan Offices may have acquired a prodigious store of missionary ideas, they may be expert organisers, as propagandists they may be skilled in writing and speaking. but if they fail to enlist the assistance of the parish priest and make his part the very basis of their work their efforts will be faulty and ineffective. Certainly a Director must be very simple if he boasts about having successfully started parochial missionary committees without the support of the parish priest.

A few months after his visit nothing but the memory remains of those committees if they are not supported by the parish priest. This has happened in many parishes; it is only natural. It will always be thus, because no religious activity is conceivable in a parish without the approval and the help of the parish priest or his delegate. He who thinks otherwise is a dangerous visionary. We must turn to the parish priest, therefore, if we wish to put our movement on a sound foundation.

A COMPLETE PLAN

The Holy See is insistent that the work for the Propagation of the Faith should be put upon an organised basis. To this end it enjoins that in every parish, wherever it is possible, there should be instituted a Parish Committee or commission for the Propagation of the Faith.This committee should be formed under the authority of the parish priest, or of one of the priests delegated by him, but its government and organisation is to be left, as far as is consistent with its dependence on the parish priest, in the hands of the laity who compose it. Such a commission should consist of

A Parish Council, composed of a president, a secretary, and a treasurer.

District Supervisors, one for each district of the parish, in accordance with the number of districts into which it is conveniently divided.

Block Promoters: Each district being divided into a convenient number of blocks, promoters are assigned to each block, building up circles of ten members, as near as possible living closely to each other. Block promoters may have other promoters depending on them, one promoter for each circle of ten, if so desired.

The Block Promoters” duty is to give every Catholic residing in the section of the parish entrusted to their zeal the opportunity of becoming members of the Association. To avoid possible imposition, each block promoter should be provided with an authorisation from the parish. priest. The block promoters in each district must periodically submit their books to the district supervisors for audit; district supervisors in turn submit their books periodically to the treasurer for audit, and the treasurer is responsible to the committee and to the parish priest for all monies collected. The work of the secretary consists of transacting all business in connection with the supply of “Catholic Missions,” etc., with the Diocesan Office. The president presides at all meetings of the Parish Council, and, in general, is responsible for the government and the right order of procedure in the work of organisation.

It is earnestly recommended, further, that these parish committees should be urged to actively interest themselves in the cause of the missions. The members of the committee could form themselves into a species of informal discussion group on the subject of Catholic Missions; the parish priest, or other priests in the parish, might occasionally give them addresses on some particular aspect of mission work, opportunities might be given of hearing lectures from visiting missionaries; every opportunity should be taken to impress these workers for the cause of the Propagation of the Faith that they are essential parts of the great mechanism that is working for the extension of Christ’s kingdom. Enthusiasm enkindles enthusiasm, and if the ardent fire of zeal for Christ’s triumph in the pagan world is burning brightly in the hearts of the promoters for the Propagation of the Faith, it is easy for them to transmit some spark of that fire to the other peopl e of the parish.

OTHER PARISHES

It is readily understood that this system of organisation of the Propagation of the Faith is not possible in every parish of this country. There are many country parishes where the population is too scattered; and even in many city parishes the number of available workers is so few and the activities and sodalities so many that the organisation as outlined above would not be possible. In parishes such as these, the system of promoters working quietly among their own friends, thus gathering together a circle for ten or more members, could be profitably followed until such time as the more complete organisation would be possible. These promoters should be made personally responsible to the parish priest, or to the diocesan office, if preferred, for the return of monies collected, and the diocesan office should provide them with their monthly copies of “Catholic Missions.”

It is to be clearly noted that, with regard to the copies of “Catholic Missions,” there should be one copy of “Catholic Missions” for every ten members enrolled in the Society. When a promoter has ten members, one copy of “Catholic Missions” is received each month; when the number exceeds ten, two copies each month; when the number exceeds twenty, three copies of “Catholic Missions” each month, and so on progressively.

CONCLUSION

No man is completely Catholic until he does something more than merely try to save his own soul, until he sees the world, the whole of it, waiting for the Light of the .Faith-as the Church sees it. May we say, until he looks at the world as Christ looks at it”

No parish is truly a part of the Catholic Church where the Faith is at a dead end; where all energies are directed exclusively to conserving the Faith within the narrow boundaries of streets and lanes, with no thought of the Grand Crusade, with no urge to the conquest of the world for Christ.

No nation can aspire to be truly Christian until its Catholic children, all of them, are marching in unison with the other nations of God’s Church-Catholic and Apostolic.

“Faith, kept for itself, is a dead faith; because faith must be enlivened by charity or it cannot live, and charity must expand or die.”

PRIVILEGES GRANTED TO ALL MEMBERS .

I. A Plenary Indulgence (on the day itself or on any one of the seven days following, on the conditions of Confession, Communion, visit to a church or public oratory, with prayers there for the Propagation of the Faith and the Pope’s intentions).

(a) On the day of enrolment.

(b) On the feasts of Christmas, Circumcision, Holy Name of Jesus, Epiphany, Easter, Ascension, Pentecost, Most Holy Trinity, Corpus Christi, Sacred Heart; the Immaculate Conception, Nativity, Presentation, Annunciation, Visitation, Purification and Assumption of the B.V.M.; the Finding (May 3) and Exaltation (September 14) of the Holy Cross, St. Michael (September 29), Guardian Angels (October 2), St. John the Baptist (June 24), St. Joseph (March 19), Solemnity of St. Joseph (third Wednesday after Easter), Principal Feasts of the Twelve Apostles and of the Evangelists, St. Francis Xavier (December 3), St. Fidelis of Sigmaringen (April 24), All Saints, and anniversary of the foundation of the Congregation of Propaganda (June 22).

(c) Three days each month, at choice.

II. A Plenary Indulgence at the moment of death, to those who have confessed and received Communion (or, if unable, shall invoke the Holy Name of Jesus at least in the heart), with the acceptance of death with resignation as a punishment of sin.

III. PARTIAL INDULGENCES

(a) 500 days each time, for assisting, with contrite heart, at novenas or triduums in preparation for, or religious celebrations of the octaves of, the Finding of the Holy Cross and St. Francis Xavier, or, if impeded, for reciting prayers for the same intentions.

(b) 300 days each time, for assisting, with contrite heart, at any religious function prescribed by the Work.

(c) 200 days each time, for reciting the Pater and Ave, followed by the aspiration, “St. Francis Xavier, pray for us,” and for every act of piety or charity performed in aid of the Work.

IV. PRIVILEGED ALTAR

(a) On the day of the general or special commemoration of deceased members, all the altars of the church, public or semi-public oratory where it takes place, are privileged for all Masses celebrated for these deceased members.

(b) All Masses requested by members for deceased members, and all Masses celebrated by priest members for deceased members, enjoy the favour of the privileged altar.

V. 20.000 Masses are offered every year for the living and dead associates by the missionary priests.

VI. A Mass is said every day in St. Peter’s, Rome, for all deceased helpers, and for those deceased on whose behalf an offering is made to the Association.

********

The Purpose of Christian Mortification

CARDINAL MERCIER

INDEX

The aim of Christian mortification is to counteract the evil influences which original sin continues to exert on our souls, even after Baptism has regenerated them.

Our regeneration in Christ, while completely wiping out sin in us, leaves us, none the less, very far indeed from original rectitude and peace. It was recognised by the Council of Trent that concupiscence, which is to say the triple covetousness of the flesh, the eyes and the pride of life, makes itself felt in us even after Baptism, in order to rouse us to the glorious struggles of the Christian life*. It is this triple covetousness which Scripture calls sometimes the old man, as opposed to the new man who is Jesus living in us and ourselves living in Jesus; and sometimes the flesh or fallen nature, as opposed to the spirit or to nature regenerated by supernatural grace. It is this old man or this flesh, that is to say the whole man with his twofold, moral and physical life, that one must, I do not say annihilate, because that is an impossibility so long as our present life continues, but mortify, which means to cause it to die, to reduce it almost to the powerless, inactive and barren state of a corpse; one must prevent it from yielding its fruit, which is sin, and nullify its action in all our moral life.

Christian mortification ought therefore to involve the whole man, to extend to every sphere of action in which our nature is able to operate.

Such is the purpose of the virtue of mortification; we shall explain its practice by running through, one after another, the many forms of activity in which it is manifested in our lives:

- ORGANIC ACTIVITY OR BODILY LIFE

- Sensible activity, which comes into play either under the form of sense-knowledge through the external senses or the imagination, or else under the form of sensible appetite or passion.

- Rational and free activity, the principle of our thoughts and our judgements and of the decisions of the will.

- The exterior manifestation of the life of the soul or our exterior actions.

- OUR RELATIONS WITH OUR NEIGHBOUR

PRACTICE OF CHRISTIAN MORTIFICATION

N.B.: All the practices of mortification which we have collected here are derived from the examples of the Saints, especially Saint Augustine, Saint Thomas Aquinas, Saint Teresa, Saint Francis de Sales, Saint John Berchmans; or they are recommended by acknowledged masters of the spiritual life, such as the Venerable Louis de Blois, Rodriguez, Scaramelli, Mgr Gay, Abbé Allemand, Abbé Hamon, Abbé Dubois, etc. .

Mortification of the body

1-In the matter of food, restrict yourself as far as possible to simple necessity. Consider these words which Saint Augustine addressed to God: “O my God, Thou hast taught me to take food only as a remedy. Ah! Lord, who is there among us who does not sometimes exceed the limit here? If there is such a one, I say that man is great, and must give great glory to Thy name.” (Confessions, book X, ch. 31)

2 -Pray to God often, pray to God daily to help you by His grace so that you do not overstep the limits of necessity and do not permit yourself to give way to pleasure.

3-Take nothing between meals, unless out of necessity or for the sake of convenience.

4-Practise fasting and abstinence, but practise them only under obedience and with discretion.

* Manere autem in baptizatis concupiscentiam vel fomitem, haec sancta Synodus fatetur et sentit; quae cum ad agonem relicta sit, ( . . . ) Hanc concupiscentiam, quam aliquando Apostolus “peccatum” (Cf. Rom 6:12 .et seq.; 7: 7; 14–20) appellat, ( . . . ) quia ex peccato est et ad peccatum inclinat. (Council of Trent, Fifth Session, Decree on Original Sin). 5-It is not forbidden for you to enjoy some bodily satisfaction, but do so with a pure intention, giving thanks to God. 6-Regulate your sleep, avoiding in this all faint-heartedness, all softness, especially in the morning. Set an hour, if you can, for going to bed and getting up, and keep strictly to it.

7-In general, take your rest only in so far as it is necessary; give yourself generously to work, not sparing your labour. Take care not to exhaust your body, but guard against indulging it; as soon as you feel it even a little disposed to play the master, treat it at once as a slave.

8-If you suffer some slight indisposition, avoid being a nuisance to others through your bad mood; leave to your companions the task of complaining for you; for yourself, be patient and silent as the Divine Lamb who has truly borne all our weaknesses.

9-GUARD AGAINST MAKING THE SLIGHTEST ILLNESS A REASON FOR DISPENSATION OR EXEMPTION FROM YOUR DAILY SCHEDULE. “ONE must detest like the plague every exception when it comes to rules,” wrote Saint John Berchmans.

10-Accept with docility, endure humbly, patiently and with perseverance, the tiresome mortification called illness.

Mortification of the senses, of the imagination and the passions

1 -Close your eyes always and above all to every dangerous sight, and even-have the courage to do it-to every frivolous and useless sight. See without looking; do not gaze at anybody to judge of their beauty or ugliness.

2-Keep your ears closed to flattering remarks, to praise, to persuasion, to bad advice, to slander, to uncharitable mocking, to indiscretions, to ill-disposed criticism, to suspicions voiced, to every word capable of causing the very smallest coolness between two souls

3-If the sense of smell has something to suffer due to your neighbour’s infirmity or illness, far be it from you ever to complain of it; draw from it a holy joy.

4-In what concerns the quality of food, have great respect for Our Lord’s counsel: “Eat such things as are set before you.” “Eat what is good without delighting in it, what is bad without expressing aversion to it, and show yourself equally indifferent to the one as tothe other. There,” says Saint Francis de Sales, “is real mortification.”

5-Offer your meals to God; at table impose on yourself a tiny penance: for example, refuse a sprinkling of salt, a glass of wine, a sweet, etc.; your companions will not notice it, but God will keep account of it.

6-If what you are given appeals to you very much, think of the gall and the vinegar given to Our Lord on the cross: that cannot keep you from tasting, but will serve as a counterbalance to the pleasure.

7-YOU MUST AVOID ALL SENSUAL CONTACT, EVERY CARESS IN WHICH YOU SET SOME PASSION, BY WHICH YOU LOOK FOR PASSION, FROM WHICH YOU TAKE A JOY WHICH IS PRINCIPALLY OF THE SENSES.

8-Refrain from going to warm yourself, unless this is necessary to save you from being unwell.

9-Bear with everything which naturally grieves the flesh, especially the cold of winter, the heat of summer, a hard bed and every inconvenience of that kind. Whatever the weather, put on a good face; smile at all temperatures. Say with the prophet “Cold, heat, rain, bless ye the Lord.” It will be a happy day for us when we are able to say with a good heart these words which were familiar to Saint Francisde Sales: “I am never better than when I am not well.”

10-Mortify your imagination when it beguiles you with the lure of a brilliant position, when it saddens you with the prospect of a dreary future, when it irritates you with the memory of a word or deed which offended you.

11-IF YOU FEEL WITHIN YOU THE NEED TO DAYDREAM, MORTIFY IT WITHOUT MERCY.

12-Mortify yourself with the greatest care in the matter of impatience, of irritation or of anger.

13-Examine your desires thoroughly; submit them to the control of reason and of faith: do you never desire a long life rather than a holy life, wish for pleasure and well-being without trouble or sadness, victory without battle, success without setbacks, praise without criticism, a comfortable, peaceful life without a cross of any sort, that is to say a life quite opposite to that of Our Divine Lord?

14-Take care not to acquire certain habits which, without being positively bad, can become injurious, such as habits of frivolous reading, of playing at games of chance, etc. .

15-Seek to discover your predominant failing and, as soon as you have recognised it, pursue it all the way to its last retreat. To that purpose, submit with good will to whatever could be monotonous or boring in the practice of the examination of conscience.

16-You are not forbidden to have a heart and to show it, but be on your guard against the danger of exceeding due measure. Resist attachments which are too natural, particular friendships and all softness of the heart.

Mortification of the mind and the will

1 -Mortify your mind by denying it all fruitless imaginings, all ineffectual or wandering thoughts which waste time, dissipate the soul, and render work and serious things distasteful.

2-Every gloomy and anxious thought should be banished from your mind. Concern about all that could happen to you later on should not worry you at all. As for the bad thoughts which bother you in spite of yourself, you should, in dismissing them, make of them a subject for patience. Being involuntary, they will simply be for you an occasion of merit.

3-Avoid obstinacy in your ideas, stubbornness in your sentiments. You should willingly let the judgements of others prevail, unless there is a question of matters on which you have a duty to give your opinion and speak out.

4-Mortify the natural organ of your mind, which is to say the tongue. Practise silence gladly, whether your rule prescribes it for you or whether you impose it on yourself of your own accord.

5-Prefer to listen to others rather than to speak yourself; and yet speak appropriately, avoiding as extremes both speaking too much, which prevents others from telling their thoughts, and speaking too little, which suggests a hurtful lack of interest in what they say.

6-Never interrupt somebody who is speaking and do not forestall, by answering too swiftly, a question he would put to you.

7-Always have a moderate tone of voice, never abrupt or sharp. Avoid very, extremely, horribly; all exaggeration.

8-Love simplicity and straightforwardness. The pretences, evasions, deliberate equivocations which certain pious people indulge in without scruple greatly discredit piety.

9-Carefully refrain from using any coarse, vulgar or even idle word, because Our Lord warns us that He will ask an account of them from us on the day of judgement.

10-Above all, mortify your will; that is the decisive point. Bend it constantly to what you know is God’s good pleasure and the rule of Providence, without taking any account either of your likes or your dislikes. Be submissive, even to your inferiors, in matters which do not concern the glory of God and the duties of your position.

11-LOOK ON THE SMALLEST DISOBEDIENCE TO THE ORDERS OR EVEN THE DESIRES OF YOUR SUPERIORS AS IF IT WERE ADDRESSED TO GOD.

12-Remember that you will practise the greatest of all mortifications when you love to be humiliated and when you have the most perfect obedience towards those to whom God wishes you to be subject.

13-Love to be forgotten and counted as nothing; it is the advice of Saint John of the Cross, it is the counsel of ‘The Imitation of Christ’: speak seldom either well or ill of yourself, but seek by silence to make yourself forgotten.

14-Faced with a humiliation, a reproach, you are tempted to grumble, to feelsorry for yourself. Say with David: “So much the better! It is goodthat I should be humbled.”

15-Entertain no frivolous desires: “I desire few things,” said Saint Francis de Sales, “and the little that I desire, I desire very little.”

16-Accept with the most perfect resignation the mortifications decreed by Providence, the crosses and the labours belonging to the state of life in which Providence has placed you. “There, where there is less of our choice,” said Saint Francis, “there is more of the good pleasure of God.” We would like to choose our crosses, to have a cross other than our own, to carry a heavy cross which would at least have some fame, rather than a light cross which tires us by being unceasingly there: an illusion! it is our cross we must carry, not another, and its merit is not in what sort of cross it is, but in the perfection with which we carry it.

17-Do not let yourself be troubled by temptations, scruples, spiritual dryness: “What we do in time of dryness has more merit in the sight of God than what we do in time of consolation,” says the saintly Bishop of Geneva.*

18-Do not fret too much about your imperfections but humble yourself because of them. To humble oneself is a good thing, which few people understand; to be troubled and vexed at oneself is something that everybody knows, and which is bad, because in that kind of distress and vexation self-love always plays the greater part.

19-Let us beware alike of the timidity and despondency which sap our courage, and of the presumption which is only pride in action. Let us work as if everything depended on our efforts, but let us remain humble as if our work were useless.

Mortifications to practise in our exterior actions

1-You ought to show the greatest exactitude in observing all the points of your rule of life, obeying them without delay, remembering Saint John Berchmans, who said: “Penance for me is to lead the common life”; “To have the highest regard for the smallest things, such is my motto”; “Rather die than break a single rule.”

2 -In the exercise of your duties of state, try to be well-pleased with whatever happens to be most unpleasant or boring for you, recalling again here the words of Saint Francis: “I am never better than when I am not well.” * Saint Francis de Sales (1567–1622), who is so frequently quoted in this essay, was Bishop of Geneva.

3 -Never give one moment over to sloth: from morning until night keep busy without respite.

4-If your life is, at least partly, spent in study, apply to yourself this advice from Saint Thomas Aquinas to his pupils: “Do not be content to take in superficially what you read and hear, but endeavour to go into it deeply and to fathom the whole sense of it. Never remain in doubt about what you could know with certainty. Work with a holy eagerness to enrich your mind; arrange and classify in your memory all the knowledge you are able to acquire. On the other hand, do not seek topenetrate mysteries which are beyond your intelligence.”

5-Devote yourself solely to your present occupation, without looking back on what went before or anticipating in thought what will follow. Say with Saint Francis: “While I am doing this I am not obliged to do anything else”; “let us make haste very calmly; all in good time.”

6-Be modest in your bearing. Nothing was so perfect as Saint Francis’s deportment; he always kept his head straight, avoiding alike the inconstancy which turns it in all directions, the negligence which lets it droop forward and the proud and haughty disposition which throws it back. His countenance was always peaceful, free from all annoyance, always cheerful, serene and open; without however any merriment or indiscreet humour, without loud, immoderate or too frequent laughter.

7-He was as composed when alone as in a large gathering. He did not cross his legs, never supported his head on his elbow. When he prayed he was motionless as a statue. When nature suggested to him he should relax, he did not listen.

8-Regard cleanliness and order as a virtue, uncleanness and untidyness as a vice; do not have dirty, stained or torn clothes. On the other hand, regard luxury and worldliness as a greater vice still. Make sure that, on seeing your way of dressing, nobody calls it “slovenly” or “elegant,” but that everybody is bound to think it “decent.”

Mortifications to practise in our relations with our neighbour

1 -Bear with your neighbour’s defects; defects of education, of mind, of character. Bear with everything about him which irritates you: his gait, his posture, tone of voice, accent, or whatever.

2-Bear with everything in everybody and endure it to the end and in a Christian spirit. Never with that proud patience which makes one say: “What have I to do with so and so? How does what he says affect me? What need have I for the affection, the kindness or even the politeness of any creature at all and of that person in particular?” Nothing accords less with the will of God than this haughty unconcern, this scornful indifference; it is worse, indeed, than impatience.

3-Are you tempted to be angry? For the love of Jesus, be meek.

To avenge yourself? Return good for evil; it is said the great secret of touching Saint Teresa’s heart was to do her a bad turn.

To look sourly at someone? Smile at him with good nature.

To avoid meeting him? Seek him out willingly.

To talk badly of him? Talk well of him.

To speak harshly to him? Speak very gently, warmly, to him.

4—Love to give praise to your companions, especially those you are naturally most inclined to envy.

5—Do not be witty at the expense of charity.

6-If somebody in your presence should take the liberty of making remarks which are rather improper, or if someone should hold conversations likely to injure his neighbour’s reputation, you may sometimes rebuke the speaker gently, but more often it will be better to divert the conversation skilfully or indicate by a gesture of sorrow or of deliberate inattention that what is said displeases

7-It costs you an effort to render a small service: offer to do it. You will have twice the merit

8- Avoid with horror posing as a victim in your own eyes or those of others. Far be it from you to exaggerate your burdens; strive to find them light; they are , in reality, much more often than it seems; they would be so always if you were more virtuous.

CONCLUSION

In general, know how to refuse to nature what she asks of you unnecessarily.

Know how to make her give what she refuses you for no reason. Your progress in virtue, says the author of ‘The

Imitation of Christ,’ will be in proportion to the violence that you succeed in doing to yourself.

“It is necessary to die,” said the saintly Bishop of Geneva, “it is necessary to die in order that God may live in us, for it is impossible to achieve the union of the soul with God by any means other than by mortification. These words ‘it is necessary to die’ are hard, but they will be followed by a great sweetness, because one dies to oneself for no other reason than to be united to God bythat death.”

Would to God we had the right to apply toourselves these beautiful words of Saint Paul to the Corinthians: “In all things we suffer tribulation. . . . . Always bearing about in our body the death of Jesus, that the life also of Jesus may be made manifest in our bodies.” (II Cor 4:8–10)

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The Questions They Always Ask

DANIEL A. LORD, S.J

INDEX

DO YOU THINK THAT YOUNG PEOPLE TODAY ARE BETTER OR WORSE THAN YOUNG PEOPLE USED TO BE?

My answer to that is perhaps in the nature of dodging: Whatever they actually are, they ought to be better. I find it vastly annoying, to say the least, to run into these self-confessed historians of morals and customs who blurb,

“The young people of today are no different from what young people were in the days of Rome or Greece or even of Babylon or Assyria orEgypt. They are neither better nor worse. But let’s not be hard on them. To the older generation the younger generation is always a mystery if not actually a menace. History merely repeats itself.”

And that I call the sloppiest kind of history.

Have these supposed historians never heard of the coming of Christ and the development of the Christian era? Are they going to suggest that life in Christian countries today (we prescind necessarily from the Communists” and the Nazis” deliberate submerging into paganism) is no different from what it was back in the cruel ages before the Saviour?

These happen to be Christian times. If young people are not insulted when they are compared with the young men and women of pagan, barbarous, and callous pre-Christ days, they should be.

The hideous things sanctioned then by a heartless, selfish, godless or false-god society have been in the main abolished. We no longer go down to the market-place and buy ourselves a cook or ask the selling price of a good gardener or an upstairs maid. We do not go to the Yankee Stadium to see men slaughter each other, or prisoners fed to the lions from the Bronx zoo. We no longer worship obscene gods and make a religion of imitating their worst vices. We do not believe that a filthy king is really an incarnate god; and if a ruler starts to act like a whimsical maniac, we in Christian countries can call out the electorate.

Yes; this is a very different world, a Christian world. It is a world which has accepted in principle-no matter how far short it is in practice-the Ten Commandments and softened the brute side of man’s nature with the principles and practices of Christ’s lovely law. We profit by nineteen hundred years of experience with the personality and example of Christ Himself. The glowing image of Mary has had its effect. The saints have not lived in vain. The nations have called themselves Christendom and have built up a code that regards the rights of the weak, the reverence due to women, the care that must surround childhood.

So simply to compare our young people with the young people of pagan lands and ancient days is ridiculous. Equivalently that would be to say, “Our whole modern world is expected to be vastly better than the world was in the ages before Christ, but we can be content if young people are merely as good as were the youth of ancient Egypt, Babylon, Rome, and Greece.”

Yet the answer is still not complete.

Modern young people should be better than their fathers and mothers were in their youth. Whether they actually are or are not better, we can leave to their own consciences. That they should be better is plain from a few contemporaneous facts.

To modern youth has been given the strength of frequent Communion.

They have been part of the re-opening of the liturgical movement, which stresses their royal priesthood.

They have the invitation to collaboration with the Bishops in Catholic Action.

For them the Catholic-school system has enormously developed. They have been spared the perils of persecution and its rigours.

They are the children of a Catholicity that has been permitted to know the peace and freedom of countries yet free.

As such they have known amazing natural advantages.

In a word, are we wrong to think of them as the favoured sons and daughters of God?

So, when I am asked if they are as good as pagans are, I want to shout at the absurdity of the question. When I compare their opportunities even with those of the people twenty, forty, a hundred years ago I can see their numberless advantages.

If they are merely as good as the young people of generations ago that is not good at all. They have a right to demand of themselves-as we have a right to expect of them-that they be vastly better.

IS KISSING A SIN?

This is probably the question that is found in all question boxes.

The very fact that it is constantly asked indicates a strangely troubled conscience.

But let’s reach our answer by a slightly roundabout route.

A kiss is a sacred and lovely symbol used to express a deep and beautiful emotion.

A mother kisses her child. A daughter welcomes her father home from the wars with a kiss. Husband and wife kiss to express their unity of mind and heart. A witness in court may kiss the Bible to show his respect for truth. A grateful person may be moved to kiss the hand of his benefactor. In times past soldiers and knights kissed the hilts of their swords because these were the weapons they used to defend right, honour and truth.

A saint kisses the crucifix. Magdalen covered the feet of the Saviour with kisses. Exiles have been so glad to see their native land that they have thrown themselves down and kissed the ground. A romantic lover kisses the hand of his lady or the flower, she tosses him. A son will kiss the locket that holds the curl of his dead mother’s hair. A patriot will kiss the flag he loves. A Catholic kisses the ring of a Bishop, in sign of devotion to the Church; he may kiss the relic of a saint. The priest kisses reverently the altar on which rests the Eucharistic Body of the Lord.

Yes; undoubtedly a kiss is something sacred, dignified and lovely.

Quite clearly, then, in itself a kiss is not a sin. If it were, it would be impossible to explain why kisses can under circumstances like these be beautiful, impressive, dignified, sacred, utterly lovely.

Now, a new attitude has developed toward kissing. The kiss has become a casual and a careless thing. Too many ask, not “How can I keep my kisses for the moment when they will be the symbol of something noble and fine?” but, “How easygoing can I be about kissing?” How prodigal can I be of my kisses? How far can I go with my kisses before I actually commit sin?”

And that is no credit to our modern morality or customs.

There is no slightest doubt in the mind of any decent man or woman that kissing between unmarried people becomes sinful when passion takes over. Any normal person is fully aware that, under certain circumstances, passion was meant by nature to take over. The kiss was by God and nature intended to make men and women grow passionately excited. The kiss is, under those conditions, the normal and natural prelude to physical union. So to use a kiss to lead to all of this outside of marriage is most assuredly wrong.

But it’s a pretty shabby world in which we measure our conduct entirely in terms of sin.

There is something rather terrifying about modern customs that carelessly or deliberately go toward the cheapening of so sacred and lovely a thing as a kiss.

Let’s say that this boy takes this girl out for an evening. At the end of the evening, though he may never see her again, be expects her to pay for her entertainment with a kiss. Why?

This girl goes out with the young man she, met quite recently. If he didn’t try to kiss her at the end of the evening, she hurries to her mirror to see what’s wrong with herself.

This young couple have nothing special to say to each other, nothing particularly interesting to do; so they fill in the dull interludes with counterfeit lovemaking.

Yet this same kiss will later on be expected to signify a lot of important things. It will be the symbol of love between the young man and the girl he asks to marry him and to be the mother of his children. It will be the sweet sign by which the girl consents. It will be the lovely expression of a mother’s heart yearning over her first-born. It will be the last tribute that a son pays to his dying mother.

Even pagan nations are not this casual and careless about the kiss. The Japanese, certainly not of a notably high moral standard, regard as undignified, antisocial and obscene the constant kissing manifested in the movies. “What sort of new standard has made us think so lightly of an almost holy symbol?

Perhaps what we need is a new attitude toward this whole question. We had better stop measuring our conduct merely by the question, “When does kissing become sinful?” A kiss is quite too sacred a thing to be thrown away on chance strangers. A girl should not be expected to pay with kisses for a hamburger and a coke. A boy should not be asked to prove with hisses that he thinks a girl pretty.

It is human to be careful not to waste precious things. We do not squander our money on strangers. The salute that we give to the Flag we do not offer to low, base objects. Our attitude toward a kiss should fall in line with this.

A kiss was meant to be the seal upon a beautiful emotion, the promise of lasting love. It should not be the casual greeting strangers, the stop-gap when conversation grows dull, a cheap counterfeit of the noble, precious coin of true and noble love.

HOW SOON DO YOU THINK A YOUNG COUPLE SHOULD START TO “GO STEADY”? Oh.I”d say about three to six months before they expect to marry.

Youth is the time during which God and nature meant us to make our friends, lots of friends. God did not mean that we should at that time tie ourselves down exclusively to one companion.

Youth is the period when we have to learn how to get along with people, lots of people and lots of kinds of people.

Hence the mistake of adjusting oneself and one’s mind and plans to the monotonous association with one person. During his youth the person who has a wise eye on his own future grows in every possible way. He learns to talk to a great variety of people, to make himself agreeable to different temperaments. He learns even how to dance with those whose steps differ from his own, to play cards or to take part in sports with those who, because they are different, can help him to be many-sided.

Instead of that, this young boy and girl settle down to “go steady” with each other. Only the future will prove what a crimp they have thus put in their natural development.

They learn to talk only to one person. They dance well only with one person. They need not talk at all if they so choose. They get none of that many-faceted development which comes from contact with various dispositions and backgrounds.

And worse: The boy becomes lazy. He does not need to he clever or amusing or socially on his toes to please the girl he has collared. She belongs to him, doesn’t she? and she can take what he hands out. The girl comes to be demanding, jealous, insistent on her exclusive rights. They drift along together at a time of life when they should be learning socially how to run.

No one need talk of the dangers involved in “going steady” too early. “The two are thrown constantly together, almost as if they were soon to be married. Passion, and emotion may grow between them with constantly developing peril and temptation. Or the opposite may happen: they may grow emotionally listless toward each other-the most awful possible prelude to marriage.

The highschool boys and girls who “go steady” deserve out unstinted pity. Seldom do they marry the youngsters with whom they “go steady.” Often they grow bored with one another, and yet they don’t know how to break the bond that binds them together in boredom.

Anyway, what’s the rush about “going steady”? From the day they marry, they will “go steady” for the rest of their lives. Why not use the period of their freedom and liberty to be free? Why bind themselves with responsibilities while they are in their teens?

Happy the young man and woman who keep a wide acquaintanceship. Happy those young people who preserve their liberty. The young man does not sulk when the girl is nice to another boy. The girl does not claw when the boys sees and is attracted by another girl. They are giving themselves a chance to develop naturally at a time when God and nature meant them to be footloose and fancy-free. They can improve their social gifts and learn the all-important art of dealing with a wide range of people.

Sheer laziness and an unwillingness to act their age make young people fall into the slovenly way of “going steady” when there is no remote possibility of their marrying.

Don’t let any girl or boy clamp a “Reserved, Hands Off!” sign on you. Time enough to “go steady” when the young man has placed on the finger of the girl the ring of their solemn engagement, or when the young man has said for all the years ahead a choked but sincere “I do.”

WHAT DO YOU THINK OF DRINKING?

God made the vine and the fruit of the vine. As He sat with His disciples, He drank with dignity and deep friendliness from the unconsecrated cup upon the table. The discomfiture of a young bride in Cana led Him by His first miracle to turn water into wine for her feast.

St. Paul advisedthe use of “a little wine for thy stomach’s sake.”

It is worth noting, however, that the Apostle advised a little wine, and that he took it for granted that his old friend and disciple, to whom he was writing, had reached the years when he was likely to be having stomach complaints.

Few people have been hurt by what they drank in the protective wholesomeness of their own homes. There have, however, been exceptions even here. But when parents serve wine on festive occasions, their children drink with relative safety. If to commemorate a birthday dad shakes some cocktails and gives a small one to the children, no harm is done.

Then, as a person grows older and his powers grow weaker, a little stimulant may serve to make him slightly less boresome, less dull. Old people are likely to find the party a bit tiresome and to doze by the hearth unless they have the artificial stimulation of a drink or two. Besides, there are parties so dull and conversations so wearisome that only the false glitter of a cocktail shaker keeps the miscalled celebrants from screaming in pain or staggering off in a drugged coma.

So drink can have its place.

In measure, it can be an added joy to a family party or to a pleasant gathering in a home. It keeps old people briefly from remembering that they are old. When a tired businessman faces a social ordeal which he just isn’t up to, he may find the strain less rending if he is fortified by a cocktail.

A mature person with a book and a glass of wine near his own fireside or in the companionship of congenial friends is a social symbol of relaxation and restfulness Socially acceptable is the group of men sitting around beer steins, singing far more than drinking, loving the good fellowship much more than the mild beverage.

But drink was intended to be stimulant for conversation, not substitute, It was meant to be an aid to a party, not the party itself. Like all of God’s good gifts, it was to be used with dignity and self-mastery by mature men and women. Men and women were not supposed to find it a trap for their feet, a stutter for their tongues, a cloud for their brains, a snare for their souls.

Time was when men were proud of their ability to “hold their drink.” They would have been bitterly ashamed of themselves if they found out the next day that they had, on the strength of a couple of mugs or glasses, made fools of themselves, passed out of the picture, or slid under the table in a lump.

But a new tradition marks our age. Young people are positively proud of the fact that liquor makes a fool of them, that they can’t “hold their drink.” They brag about how drunk they were and the speed with which the liquor threw them.

“Oh, boy! was I ever pie-eyed last night. I can’t remember anything that happened after ten o‘clock.”

“Omigosh! what a head I”ve got this morning. I was boiled as an owl last night.”

“After that second highball, honest, I can’t remember a thing.”

“Powerful stuff. A couple of snifters and I was out like light.”

What is there about drunkenness for anything other than shame? Physically the drunkards were weaklings. Morally they behaved like fools.

As a matter of cold fact, young people have no more need for liquor than they have for crutches. They have their own innate vitality to furnish the power for a good time. When a crowd of them are together, song should be easy, jokes should fly fast, their feet should fairly itch to dance. They’re not a lot of old codgers needing an alcoholic build-up. Their digestions are not so dulled and their minds so jaded that they must be stimulated before they come alive. They have simply none of the excuses which make drink understandable in those very elders whom youth regards with patronising pity.

Quite willingly I concede that drink within their homes is for young people seldom a peril. The same thing is true of drink in the wellconducted homes of their family’s friends.

But for young people to drink elsewhere is something quite different. There is something particularly sinister about a “snort” out of a flask” in a parked car; the ancient excuse of prohibition no longer makes that understandable. Most of the places that sell drink look as dismal, dark and dank as the mouth of hell. The people who frequent them seem in large measure to belong right with the bats and other lower forms of life.

Why can’t drink be associated with family feast? Right now it is linked with water-front brawls, obscene laughter, animal pawing, taverns that are the old saloons with- new names and the old fixtures, sick stomachs, bad breaths, and fiery headaches.

The young man or woman is extremely smart who takes the pledge until he or she is twenty-one years old. An excellent reason for the taking of that pledge is to atone for the sins committed today by young people under the influence of drink and to prove by their strength that young people can get along nicely without drink. There is something splendid in the young man and woman who simply do not drink. They are willing to forgo legitimate pleasure for the sake of the good example they give to others.

Young people are wise if they always realise that drink for most young people is inflammatory.

From the dawn of seduction evil men have known that drink lowers a girl’s resistance and increases their own passions. Get a girl to drink they felt, and the gates of her virtue were at least unbarred, if not open.

So if young people are tempted, as by nature’s arrangement they are during the days of youth, they are wise to put aside the added temptations resulting from drink. It is an easy way to solve some of their most severe problems.

When they reach maturity, they should learn to use drink wisely-if they think they need or want to drink. It can be an aid to social life, a stimulus to high converse, a pleasant lubricant for song, a bond of friendship. But to drink just to be drinking, to have a cocktail party just to drown the tonsils in alcohol, to use drink to lower one’s modesty and decent inhibitions or to make evil seem amusing-these are indecent, inhuman and unChristian.

It’s a wise rule always to see that drink has a companion.

Drink with good food is urbane. Drink with good talk may be excellent. Drink with a beloved book may be good. Drinking alone is dangerous. Drinking with strangers is an affront to friendship.

But always as a Catholic looks upon a glass filled with an alcoholic drink, he should hear the cry of Christ, “I thirst.” He may then put aside the glass, in order to suffer or sacrifice a little with the thirsting Christ. He will then certainly not add tothe torture that men’s drunkenness has caused the dying Christ. No Catholic can escape the misery that has come to the world through the abuse of drink. He can then be a source of strength to tempted souls. If need be, he will bravely abstain throughout a lifetime, if by so doing he can help his weaker brothers and sisters to overcome their temptations and break away from the slavery of drink.

HOW CAN YOU ALWAYS DO THE RIGHT THING AND YET NOT SEEM TO BE A PRUDE? A prude suggests, by the very sound of the word, a person with lips puckered in disapproval. He or she, we may be sure, looks at the world from down a long, slightly blue nose. A holier-than-thou look in his eyes makes the rest of mankind cringe. He isn’t necessarily good; but he is aggressively critical of the evil he finds in others.

On the other hand, a really good person is a most charming one to know. Often he is marked by a strong instinct to mind his own business. He lives happily with God and his own soul; he wishes that everyone knew the joy and strength of virtue. But he does not go around tapping people on the shoulder and asking, like a voice from the tomb, “Brother, are you saved?”

He prays for sinners, but he smiles at them in friendliness.

He never stretches out a finger to point accusingly, but be is more than willing to reach out a hand to help. He never raises his voice to scold. When he has a suggestion to make, his voice is gentle and kind and tempered with affection.

A saint is a. delightful person. A prude is a “pain in the neck.”

So you can always be good and yet have people like you if you go about it in the right way. You can be holy as a saint and still cheerful as a seraph. You can keep the Ten Commandments and perhaps keep them better if you keep your sense of humour.

In a phrase, make it your life’s rule not to go around condemning vice but to go about making virtue delightful and attractive.

The plain fact is that people vastly admire a good man or woman. They recognize instinctively and from their own bitter experience the high courage needed to be consistently good. And they admire virtue because virtue is essentially admirable.

Somewhere girls got the crazy idea that to be popular you have to be fast and loose. Nothing of the sort. The most genuinely popular girls are often those who grant no favours carelessly, and who demand a high respect from the men they honour-and honour is the word-with their company.

The young man who can always say, ““Thanks; no; I don’t drink,” is not pressed or harassed. It’s the fellow who takes a drink today and not the next day that bothers people with his apparent inconsistency. If his friends know he doesn’t drink, he can take his ginger ale in peace. If he is known to be absolutely abstemious, he may be very welcome in a group that drinks. He is perhaps the one who sees the others safely home.

Make virtue attractive, and make yourself attractive along with it.

Good people have a sort of obligation to be smart, attractive, clever, if possible well dressed. It’s a shameful treason to leave these naturally prepossessing qualities to the evil of the world, so that goodness and dullness become associated in the worldlings mind. It is virtue that must be attractive. Vice needs all the artificial adornments possible to hide its ugly, slovenly, stupid, shameful form.

Naturally people do not like a prude with pursed lips, a knitted brow, and a voice just about to croak, “Stop that this minute!” That person is caricaturing virtue and making goodness despicable.

But one can be good with a smile, say no with a cheerful shake of the head, sing clearly and happily a clean and melodic song, and dance with feet that never lose their right to tread the way to the Communion rail.

Saints, canonized and far from the altar, always have something of the eternal winsomness of Christ and Mary.

HOW CAN YOU HANDLE A SITUATION WHEN THINGS GROW ROUGH AND EVIL AND DANGEROUS? The best way to handle any situation is not to let it arise.

Let’s say the young couple are going out for the evening. They have nothing planned. They are just going to wander around. She has thought of nothing interesting or amusing to talk about. He is merely drifting.

It is almost inevitable that trouble will come. Because they have nothing amusing or interesting to do, they will probably stumble upon something vulgar or evil. Because she has planned no pleasant subject for their talk, they may wander off into the gutters and alleys of speech.

But let’s say that he has planned a delightful and entertaining evening. Fine! Trouble is not likely in such a case. She has trained herself to talk well and to listen better. Excellent! Their conversation will not veer into the garbage heaps. Now, that same rule is true of all social life. If one has a party and provides, let’s say, cocktails and nothing else, the something else brought up by the party itself will probably be trouble. On the other band, when any programme, however informal, has been set for the evening, no one has a chance to get into mischief. The party is not derailed. But let’s say that trouble does start. What, then?

A real social leader, one sure of himself or herself, can soon deflect it.

The first blue story has been told. He or she cuts in with a really amusing and decent story. The third person may hesitate to throw the conversation back into the dirt.

The party grows rough. The leader has a delightful or amusing game that is decent as well as entertaining. He takes over and swings the party his way.

Often music is the easiest way to deflect dirt. Lucky the person who, from a piano bench, has learned to dominate the course of an evening’s fun. Smart the hostess who has a good stereo with a supply of records that make possible dancing and entertainment.

The last way in the world to stop evil may be a threatening frown, an air of austere disapproval, a how-dare-you-sir attitude that tends to provoke the evil to further essays into dirt and destruction. The skilled social person learns to ignore a dirty joke as he would cover over the caterpillar that the cook carelessly left in the salad. He can swing a group from dull dirt to amusing, clean fun. He has a substitute ready to offer, whether it be a song, a joke, a game, a stunt, a clever remark.

But all this takes practice, and that requires thinking and planning.

Unfortunately too many good people only wish they could control evil; they aren’t willing enough to do the thinking, the planning, and the work necessary for leadership in any line.

IN VIEW OF THE PRESENT WAR EMERGENCY, DO YOU THINK THE CHURCH WILL SANCTION BIRTH-CONTROL?

This is just a new variation of the thousand questions based on the same false idea: that artificial birth-control is wrong merely because the Church says it’s wrong.

The Church did not write the law against birth-control. It is a natural law, and it comes from the God of nature. Nothing can ever change that law, not war, not peace, not economic necessity, nothing.

Artificial birth-control is wrong for any number of reasons.

God Himself in the Old Law branded it as vile.

God forbade it because it was wrong in itself, with a wrongness that nothing can alter. God gave men and women a tremendous power, the power of creation. With this power He connected the pleasures of love. Love was a reward for the difficult work of bearing and rearing children. To use, then this power of creation merely for the pleasure involved, and at the same time to thwart conception is a terrible evil. It distorts one of the most essential natural functions, a function upon which dependsthe future of the human race. And this distortion is brought about merely for one’s own selfish pleasure.

Besides this, we have learned from bitter experience the sad consequences of artificial birth-control.

It saps the future of the race.

It cuts off mankind at its” very fountain and source.

It makes the birth rate drop so rapidly that nations slip down the scale of strength and run the chance of eventually eliminating themselves.

It takes from sins of impurity the restraining fear of consequence.

It destroys happiness in marriage by reducing the woman to the level of a mere companion in passion. Divorces on a wholesale scale has been one terrible result.

It sometimes harms the nervous and physical system.

For all these reasons and for many others the Church insists that men and women must remember the basic law of God and nature.

But by insisting on this the Church is defending the human race, safeguarding human life, protecting the home, and keeping women above the level of prostitutes.

If the future is to be safe, we can thank the Catholic Church for fighting the battle of God’s law against those who love pleasure and the easy roads of shirked duty.

DOESN’T THE CHURCH MAKE A MISTAKE WHEN IT INSISTS THAT PARENTS HAVE CHILDREN EVEN IN POVERTY?

That’s another mistaken idea.

The Church does not insist that parents have children.

It does not insist, on young people’s marrying. It does not oblige parents to have children.

A married couple may certainly live in continence if they wish and if they so agree. They may for grave and sufficient reasons practice for a time the systematic restraint of the Rhythm Theory.

But the whole argument from poverty is a mistaken one. If were a true reason, then the opposite would also be true:

Birth-controllers would be urging the rich to have as many children as possible. Clearly it is the rich rather than the poor who are notably childless.

If poverty is an evil, then it is poverty that should be eliminated, not human life. If the advocates of birth control were working half as hard to eliminate poverty as they are to eliminate human beings, we might have a world of justice and right distribution. But they are taking the easy road of eliminating people. We prefer to eliminate poverty. You cannot do evil in order that good may come out of it.

You cannot eliminate the human race in order to insure that the human race won’t be poor.

WHY DO MODERN PARENTS AVOID TEACHING THEIR CHILDREN ABOUT SEX? Sometimes because the parents are shy. Sometimes because they don’t know how to teach it. Sometimes because they think their children will be shocked. Sometimes because they hope that this instruction will be given by the priests and the religious.

It is doubtful whether God and nature ever intended formal sex instructions to be given children, even by parents. Sex was one of those human, natural things which one learned in the atmosphere of the home.

In most Catholic countries children learn to regard sex in that way-as wholesome, natural, related to marriage and children and to be kept free from sin.

But Puritanism established the tradition that sex is essentially evil. Jansenism and Calvinism seemed to regard human nature itself as evil, corrupt, shameful. So people became furtive, shy, reticent about sex. They cloaked the whole matter in shame and secrecy.

Catholic parents had better reconstruct their attitude and help their children to a sane, wholesome knowledge of sex.

The pure, clean, natural atmosphere of the home is essential. Parents would be wise to get a good Catholic book on how to give sex instructions.

Innocence is not ignorance. Priests and religious are at best substitutes for the parents, who are really the ones who should give their children the instruction and guidance.

We need young people who value purity, who know why it is precious and beautiful, and who have become aware of their own dignity, as potential procreators with God of the future of the human race.

HOW CAN I KNOW WHETHER I HAVE A RELIGIOUS VOCATION?

It’s too bad but the fact is that there are a great many more people called by God to priestly and religious life than have the courage to accept the call.

Sometimes they don’t give themselves a chance to hear the call. Sometimes they regard a vocation as something amazing, startling, thunder-striking. And all the time, if they have a religious or priestly call, it is the greatest good luck of their lives. The signs of a vocation are clearly before the eyes of anyone who cares to see them.

Here, then, are the signs, briefly sketched:

First, the person must have the necessary qualifications. This means health sufficient for the religious life. It implies enough education to do the work demanded by the particular Order. The person must be free from habits of sin. If in the past the person had such a habit but has overcome it, that past habit need not be an essential bar. It is wise, however, to talk this over with one’s confessor.

Very importantly it is not necessary to be outstandingly virtuous or to find piety or prayer easy and simple. Novitiates and seminaries are established as places where young religious can learn the way of the spiritual life. They will study virtue, prayer, and piety there.

The normal qualifications needed today for religious life are those of any good, wholesome young man or woman who enjoys life and has a body made healthy by clean living and wholesome sports and recreation, a mind trained to decent thinking and a fair grasp of truth, and the ability to get along with people. Naturally, the higher the qualification of mind and body and heart, the finer the material they bring with them to the religious life.

Second, the future priest or religious should have a supernatural motive for wanting to become a priest or a religious.

It is not, of course, sufficient motive to want to rush into seminaries and novitiates in war times in order to dodge the draft. Nor should one enter because there one will be sure of meals, of a roof over one’s head, of an education, of intellectual life, and of pleasant companionship.

Yet a person must have what may seem a low motive-the fear of hell, let’s say-and be said to have a supernatural reason. Many a young man or woman took the first step toward high sanctity where he or she ran into the arms of God through sheer fear of losing his or her soul. Other supernatural motives are higher in the scale of dignity; the desire to be sure of heaven and eternal salvation, the fear of offending God amid the temptations of the world, an impulse to work for the salvation of others, the desire to become like the saints in love of neighbour and closeness to God, a longing for the companionship of Christ, a pure and unselfish love of God.

The third thing necessary is the aspirant’s acceptance by a religious community, or, in the case of the priesthood, by a Bishop.

In the amazingly rich providence of God there has grown up in the Church the widest variety of priestly and religious work. They’re are communities suited to almost every type of taste and talent. The many ingenuous schemes for religious perfection are remarkably varied.

Yet, as a rule, a person thinks of religious life because of pleasant association with some definite men or women religious, or of a priestly life because of admiration for some priest. This in itself may be an indication that one would fit well into the sort of life led by the person admired and respected. It is common sense, then, that a first thought be given to that community.

With all the seriousness in the world, I beg of you to think seriously of priestly and religious life. Anyone who has even a slight inclination toward such a life is cheating himself miserably if he doesn’t give the impulse the fullest possible consideration. There is no other life comparable to religious or priestly life in the happiness offered or the useful work made possible. No cowardice, no difficulties, no diffidence about oneself, no shrewd considerations for the future should be allowed to stand in the way of so glorious an opportunity.

Fortunate, indeed, is the soul who hears, however faintly, the call of Christ. Happy the soul who feels the impulse to enter into such happy association with the Virgin Mother.

Sometimes it takes more courage to accept than one naturally possesses. Often one treads to this high life a road that is like martyrdom. Within the priestly or the religious life there will be hard and laborious living, days dominated by rule, the need to develop high virtue and strong self-mastery. But I have often told young people that really the hardest par of religious life is the step by which one enters it. From that point on, Christ, given half a chance, takes over. He works day and night with the co-operative and generous soul.

There is no other life comparable to that spent in happy companionship with the Saviour, in work for the kingdom of God on earth, in companionship with men and women dedicated to the love of Christ, in constant opportunity for personal worth, Christ-like living, god-like achievement

HAVE YOU ANY ADVICE TO GIVE PEOPLE WHO WANT TO DISCOVER OR BE SURE OF THEIR VOCATION? Yes, indeed.

First, they should get a regular confessor and go to him about once every two weeks. They should tell him that they have thought of the priestly or the religious life, and that they need help and guidance. They should explain that they mean to come back, and that they hope the priest will help them make up their minds.

Then they go to Communion as often as they can and pray constantly to God to give them wisdom and courage.

They continue their regular work and life, whatever it may be, but make a definite effort to do this work as well as possible. If they have a job, they give it their best abilities, if they are studying, they work earnestly.

They keep up a pleasant and wholesome social life. This is important, for future priests and religious seldom are destined for hermitages or anchor-holds.

Each night and morning at prayer they remind God of their uncertainty and ask for guidance.

In an amazingly short time they know exactly what God wants.

Then they may need further counsel from their priest director and help from God to get the courage to follow God’s splendid invitation.

WHEN WOULD YOU ADVISE A YOUNG MAN TO ENTER THE RELIGIOUS LIFE OR THE SEMINARY? No one can possibly give a blanket answer to that question. Too many factors enter in.

The person who should make the decision for the individual is that confessor to whom he has talked and in whom he has confidence.

These days a young man is usually ripe for the novitiate when he has completed high school-and a little more. The same is usually true of preparation for the major seminary.

A young man with a strong vocation that is under the watchful eye of a good confessor may finish college before he enters the seminary. Often this gives him an experience and maturity which are reflected in a richer, more effective later life. If, however, the young man feels that for any of a thousand reasons his vocation is slipping, he should honestly tell his confessor and act on the confessor’s advice.

The voice of the spiritual director is likely to be the voice of God in the selection of the exact right time.

WHEN DO YOU THINK A GIRL SHOULD ENTER THE CON VENT?

Here, again, the girl should settle this question with her regular confessor or spiritual director.

It may well be that the maturity we hope for in young religious will not be gained by the girl until she has completed a full university course. We are thinking, of course, of the time element, not of the educational question. In addition, many a nun is glad that she finished college and entered religious life with her degree in her hand.

But this is largely a matter of the individual girl. All the education a girl can take with her into religious life is immensely valuable.

Yet if she feels that she is risking her vocation if she stays out and finishes her college education, she should talk this matter over with her confessor. He will probably advise her to enter promptly.

In the case of either a boy or a girl, however, it is often risking a vocation to stay out in the world for a few years just to earn some money. Literally thousands of vocations are lost in this way. The independence that comes with the earning of money, new associations of the business world, the formation of connections that are not easy to break, make later entrance difficult, often impossible.

The ultimate general answer can be only this: Enter when God wants you and circumstances are such that your confessor says, “Now is the time.”

MY MOTHER AND FATHER DO NOT WANT ME TO BECOME A RELIGIOUS. WHAT SHALL I DO? (THIS SAME QUESTION IS OFTEN ASKED BY YOUNG MEN WHO ARE THINKING OF THE PRIESTHOOD.)

When a mother and a father depend for their actual essentials of life upon the financial help of a son or a daughter, no religious Order would think of accepting him or her. Such children have a duty to their parents, and they must put aside, however reluctantly, the desire for vocation and fulfil their obligation. But there must be a real financial need, not merely the desire of parents to live more spaciously or actually to retire upon the earnings of their children.

We must always remember that each generation lives for the generation that follows. It is unfair and unjust for parents to thwart out of selfishness the rightful development of their children.

So if parents object to their children’s vocation for any of a thousand specious, silly, capricious, and selfish reasons, they are going far outside their rights. The children should talk the matter over with their confessor and follow his advice.

There is something tragic about those parents who get between their children and God. For that matter, with the years one grows to marvel at the temerity of parents who get between their children and any of the children’s decent ambitions or right development. How people dare to play God and decide what they think the future of their children should be is a little difficult to understand.

The parents die; and the children live on, often with lives twisted and warped by parental selfishness. Parents force their children into work for which they are not suited. They jockey them into marriages or keep them from marriages on the basis of their own whims. They push them into ways of life that they walk only with pain and stumbling.

Of course, parents have every possible right to advise and suggest. They are obliged to provide all the education they can decently afford for their children and give them the fine Catholic home which is their right.

But when children axe settling their future careers, and when God enters with His highly-flattering call, any father and mother with faith and a regard for God’s right will bow to His will.

Lucky, the parents who are honoured with a son called to the priesthood or a son or a daughter invited to the religious life. Their own reward from God is assured and great. Stupid and un-Catholic are the parents who block through selfishness or the lack of spiritual vision the way that opens for their son or daughter to altar or cloister.

They will live to regret their greed or stupidity in the unhappiness of their children and their own loss of God’s blessings.

God and the future will be generous only to those parents who deal generously with their children and with Him. And parental happiness and merit are high, indeed, when parents give their son or daughter to the service of God and the salvation of immortal souls.

WHY DO YOU TALK CONSTANTLY EITHER OF MARRIAGE OR OF THE PRIESTLY AND THE RELIGIOUS LIFE? ISN’T THERE A THIRD STATE, VIRGINITY IN THE WORLD? CAN’T I RIGHTLY DESIRE AND AMBITION IT? Yes; virginity in the world is a third state in life.

Many a saintly man and woman live and have, during the course of history, lived in that state. Many of them are doing heroic things for others. There is, for instance, the generous aunt who lives and works and plans for the children who are not her own. There is the fine young son who never marries, so that he can take care of his parents in their old age. There is the person who devotes himself to some special career which can be handled more effectively by an unmarried person.

God will certainly bless those who lead what is undoubtedly a heroic life.

The fact is that this kind of life is so heroic that a person is not, as a rule, wise deliberately to plan for and choose it. Without the most expert spiritual advice, it is unwise to decide, “It is my vocation to remain a virgin in the world, without marriage, without religious life.” For it is a life that demands high heroism.

Around it are none of the greater protections and few of the consolations of virginity in the sanctuary or in the cloister. Life in this career almost surely grows more lonely with the years. Seldom enough do those who profit most by the unselfishness of these generous people show a warming gratitude and a compensating love. The old people that are cared for by such unmarried men and women in the world are full of complaints. The young people reared by these selfless men and women respond with thoughtless ingratitude, if not with sheer selfishness.

Normally, God asks people to marry or to enter His service directly. The third vocation is often forced upon people, who can then become great saints by accepting their careers generously and laboriously, But they are not wise to set their faces toward this life out of any reasons other than those forced upon them by God or sanctioned by a wise director.

Certainly bachelorhood merely for the sake of more spending money and greater freedom from responsibility is no noble career.

WHAT SHALL I SAY OR DO WHEN PEOPLE TELL ME THAT CATHOLICS ARE NARROW-MINDED? Perhaps you’re just as smart if you smile and admit that they probably are narrow-minded.

Everyone who really believes in something important is likely to be narrow-minded about it. Mathematicians are unblinkingly narrow-minded about the multiplication tables. Doctors are not one bit broadminded about quacks and the witch-doctors of the African jungles. Bankers are not at all broadminded about thieves, forgers and counterfeiters.

Catholics are, as a rule, kind and gentle in their dealings with non-Catholics. It took the Catholics of Eire to elect a Protestant to the presidency of Ireland at the very time that the Protestants of Ulster were yelling loudest, “To hell with the Pope!” We Catholics do not believe that anything is to be gained by our forcing our religion on anyone. We do not think that you can beat and dragoon people into believing in and loving Jesus Christ.

But when someone suggests to us that Protestantism, which is only part of Christ’s teachings, is as good as Catholicity, which is the entire sum of His principles and practice, he can hardly expect us to be broadminded, in smiling agreement.

We do not think it liberal or bright to trade Christ’s seven sacraments for three sacraments, or two, or one. We do not intend to swap the rock of Peter for the uncounted sands of the disunited churches. We do not consider it a good business to barter the infallibility of Christ’s representative for the infallibility of every man who picks up a Bible or propounds a personal religion full of contradictions and historic naivete.

If this is narrow-mindedness, then we Catholics are confessedly narrowminded. And it’s a very reassuring state of mind in which to be. Christ loved all men. But He was so narrow-minded about truth that He died rather than relinquish it. And when disciplesleft Him because He wouldn’t whittle down His truth, He watched them go and made no gesture to recall them.

WHEN ASKED BY A NON-CATHOLIC WHY YOU BELIEVE THAT YOUR RELIGION IS THE ONLY TRUE RELIGION, CAN YOU ANSWER HIM IN A FEW WORDS?

A few words is a small wrapping for the vastness of Catholic truth.

However, you try this for a partial answer:

I believe in the Catholic Church because it is the only Church that goes back to Christ and the Apostles. All other churches began later, at a date in most cases clearly marked in history, too late to connect them with the founders of Christ’s Church.

I believe in the Catholic Church just because it is Catholic. The Greek word Catholicos means complete. The Catholic Church teaches completely everything that Christ taught, does all that Christ commanded, and reaches out to draw “every creature” into the “one fold,” of which He is the shepherd.

I believe in the Catholic Church, because all that it teaches is wonderfully beautiful and consoling. Its truths are exactly what the human heart has wanted to know. It gives its members intellectual security and deep happiness.

I believe in the Catholic Church, because never once in the course of its history has it made a doctrinal mistake. Teaching openly for almost twenty centuries, it has never been forced to go back on its teachings and confess, “Now that time I was wrong; what I taught has turned out to be wrong, and I take it back.” There is no other institution in all history that can hold that position.

I believe in the Catholic Church, because, while other religions rise, change, fade, disappear, it goes its serene, unchanging way.

I believe in the Catholic Church, because it alone is the mother of saints.

I believe in the Catholic Church, because it is and has been hated by all the “right” people.

I believe in the Catholic Church, because it is the Mystical Body of Christ speaking His words, repeating His acts, loving what He loved, hating what He hated, carrying out His commands until the end of the world.

But after you have said all this, you will need to do a lot of amplifying and illustrating. Of course, an educated Catholic should be prepared to do that, too.

MAY A CATHOLIC GO TO A PROTESTANT CHURCH IF HE GOES TO HIS OWN CHURCH, TOO? No. Christ established one Church, His Church. He did not establish churches. Certainly He didn’t start those churches which began centuries after He laid the foundations of His Church on Peter the rock. Surely He cannot be accused of teaching the contradictory things taught by the dissonant and disagreeing Protestant sects.

Christ established one way in which God was to be honoured. We do not honour God when we worship Him in a way He does not recognise as His Son’s.

So, there is one and only one true Church.

Christ commanded everyone to hear that Church. He prayed that all would enter that Church, so that there would be “one fold and one shepherd.” He asked that we might all “be one, as Thou, Father, in Me, and I in Thee.” He did not want the Christian world divided into innumerable divergent religions, each going its own human and hesitant way.

For a Catholic to go to any other church than the Catholic Church is first of all a waste of time. If what this other church teaches is true, it got that truth from the Catholic Church. If what it teaches is not taught in the Catholic Church, it is not true.

For a Catholic to go to any other church is to thwart the commands of Christ. When we do this, we help divide Christ’s flock into separate sheepfolds. We cut up the Mystical Body into warring parts. We split the Church into discordant churches. Surely God does not want this.

The Catholic Church teaches all that Christ taught, does all that He commanded, believes all that He gave us to believe, preserves all His commandments, and carries on His worship of His Father. For a Catholic to go to any other church is to act as if Christ’s Church were not sufficient and His plans for our salvation not enough.

WHY CAN’T CATHOLICS BECOME MASONS?

Masonry is another religion-and a complete one according to the Masons.

It has its rites of initiation and of burial, its creed, cult, and code. It worships God in a form entirely its own. It offers to its members a religion which many of them regard as complete enough to need no supplementing by another church. Hence one can no more be a Catholic and a Mason than he can be a Catholic and a Jew, a Catholic and a Methodist. In many European end Latin-American countries Masonry is frankly and violently anti-Catholic. Its war on the Church has been carried on at times quite openly, at times with clever secrecy.

In America such open hostility is not often the case. Catholics and individual Masons live in friendly relationship.

Even here, however, Masonry has opposed the parochial schools. It regards itself as an international organization that rightly takes precedence over the international Catholic Church.

There is something very sad about the Catholic who gives up his religion for the sake of business advantages he gains through Masonry. It shows an entirely false sense of values, a complete loss of faith in the eternal rewards of heaven.

MAY A CATHOLIC MARRY A NON-CATHOLIC WHO HAS BEEN MARRIED TO AND DIVORCED FROM ANOTHER NON-CATHOLIC?

There is only one answer that can be given to this question and to a thousand others like it that regard marriage: Take the entire case to your parish priest, and go over it thoroughly with him.

No one can possibly give an immediate decision on a question like the one stated here. Too many circumstances affect the validity of marriage. Too many conditions need to be explained and studied.

In general, however, a Catholic is wise to take it for granted that the marriage of non-Catholics is a valid one. The normal legislation of the Church so regards it. A Catholic is playing the fool if he becomes involved with a formerly married non-Catholic on the easy supposition that that first Protestant marriage will be put aside as no good. The bets are, all in favour of the Church’s finding the first marriage quite all right.

Most marriage legislation of the Church regards Catholics only. It prefers to think that non-Catholics are rightly married.

So each marriage would have to be studied in detail. Are there any elements present that might have affected its validity from the start? Force, fear, fraud may have entered in. Are the persons baptized Christians or pagans? Could the Pauline Privilege be applied? Was the marriage null and void from the start?

Only careful study will make these points clear. In the interval the marriage will be regarded by all priests as legal and binding. Too many Catholics gaily start out by questioning the marriage of some non-Catholic with whom they have fallen in love, only to find in the end that they are involved with a perfectly correctly married person.

So the wise policy with regard to all marriages would run like this:

(1) They should be regarded as correct marriages until the facts have conclusively proved that they are not correct. It is ridiculous to build up false hopes on rumours, guesses, and legends about what the Church has done in like cases.

(2) The case should promptly be referred to some priest who has the time, patience and knowledge to thresh through all the data. This may take a great deal of time.

(3) In the interval, the one who has presented the case should reconcile himself to the likelihood of a decision in favour of the former marriage. For one marriage found invalid, a hundred are recognized by the Church as valid, lawful, and entirely binding.

So a Catholic is very smart if he or she does not become involved emotionally with married people, whatever their faith or lack of it. He or she may as well know that the Church will do all it can to establish the first marriage as firm and lawful. Only those marriages that are plainly and provably void from the start or that fall under one or two of the rare conditions will be set aside.

1 AM GOING WITH A NON-CATHOLIC. I HOPE THAT I SHALL CONVERT HIM. WHAT DO YOU THINK OF THAT? By all means, convert him-before you marry him.

If you wait for his conversion until after you are married to him, you probably will wait a long, long time. If he does not love you enough now to study your religion and learn about the faith that is so important to you, he is not likely to bother much about it once you are safely his and he knows you cannot escape.

Of course, you must not let him become a Catholic just to marry you. If that is his sole reason for conversion, he will not hold his faith long after marriage.

When love grows a little pale, the difficulties of being a Catholic are likely to mount and mount.

Convert him now, sincerely and honestly; by force of your good example and on the strength of what your religion has done to make you a splendid person. Then you can marry him at a Nuptial Mass before God’s altar and start your life with a real union of hearts and minds.

There is no need to tell anyone who knows modern living that a mixed marriage has only an infinitesimally small chance of success these days.

The odds against happiness in mixed marriage are tremendous. They are not worth the risk of the most adventurous type of gambler.

MY FATHER IS A FINE MAN. HE IS NOT A CATHOLIC. I DO NOT THINK I SHOULD DISTURB HIM BY TRYING TO MAKE HIM BECOME A CATHOLIC

Any well-instructed Catholic knows that good non-Catholic men and women may belong to the invisible Church. If they do, through baptism and a sincere love of God, they will be saved.

Yet it does seem strange that Catholics are not more anxious to share-certainly with those they love-the wonderful advantages that come with membership in the visible Church. How strange that Catholics don’t worry more about their dear ones who are not Catholic. How selfish that they do not try to pass on to those dear ones outside the faith the graces and certainties of Christ’s own Church.

Let’s say that during the course of his life the non-Catholic has committed even one mortal sin. (After all, most people do.) What does he do to get rid of it? Many non-Catholics have not the slightest idea of repentance or supernatural sorrow for sins. They have no confessional. They are not taught about the methods of reviving grace in their souls. Yet sin is not forgiven merely because in the course of time the sinners forget the sin. It is not forgiven merely because n person is a gentleman and embarrassed by the cheapness of his conduct.

So we may well worry about our non-Catholic relatives and friends, as we wonder what they have done to remove sin from their souls.

Catholics know vividly their own need for strength. Again and again they have to call on the power of prayer. They have felt the immediate help that comes from the sacraments. Yet even with all these aids life remains difficult enough and temptation strong and seductive. What do non-Catholics do, who must struggle along without these things? It seems more than a little selfish that we Catholics are positively reluctant to encourage these non-Catholics to our Christ-given sources of strength.

Only through union with Christ can a person possess that supernatural life which makes possible entrance into heaven. A person may be a gentleman and a fine, naturally good man and yet not possess within himself the life of God, which is grace. Yet if he dies without grace, his soul has no power to enjoy the Beatific Vision. Without the life of God in his soul he cannot do the god-like things necessary to see, love and possess the Trinity.

Catholics are sometimes quite disconcerted to find out how little even good Protestants-and much more, good natural men-know about God. . . . .how little thinking they do about the next life. . . . .how vague they are about Christ. . . . .how little thought they give to the saving of their own souls.

More than likely the word disturb in this question is a wrong one.

Catholics don’t disturb the non-Catholic by their offering him a share in the glorious faith of Christ. On the other hand, they are often too lazy to bother with the labour of conversion. They know their own faith too slightly and superficially to be able to express it convincingly to anyone else.

It is selfish to hold back from our dear ones the joy of Christmas Communion or the peace that follows a good confession. It is cheating them when we fail to let them know and love Our Lady. There is something very callous about the Catholics who let their relatives die without faith, without a sign of sorrow for past sins or any thought of the eternity that lies just beyond death.

Making converts is not easy. It demands of us a fine example. It takes time, patience, tact and prayer.

Too many Catholics pretend to a gentlemanly and ladylike unwillingness to “disturb their relatives and friends,” when what they really have is a low estimate of their own faith and a complete lack of zeal.

HOW CAN I MAKE A CONVERT OF ONE OF MY OWN FAMILY?

Sometimes this is harder than the converting of a friend or a total stranger. Yet it need not be so hard. Many a non-Catholic within the bosom of a Catholic family is puzzled by the fact that he is never asked to share even a portion of the Catholic faith and practice. In fact, he feels himself barred as an unwanted outsider.

A fine beginning for conversion is to ask this non-Catholic to some notable Church event, the Christmas Mass, Holy

Week services, a sermon by some outstanding priest, an attractive novena service.

Then, quite frankly, we can hand the non-Catholic a Catholic book. The attitude that accompanies the presenting of the book should not be an aggressive, “Here, read this and become a Catholic,” but, “Here’s a book that interested me, and 1 thought you might find it interesting, too.”

As a matter of course, we can start inviting our non-Catholic relative to go to church with us. The less this is made an event and the more we make it a matter of pleasant, friendly association, the better.

“We are going to the novena tonight. Do come with us.”

“Before we go to the movies, we’re dropping in for Benediction. How about coming along?”

“We’ll be stopping off for Mass on our way to the picnic. We’d love to have you come, too.”

Catholics often act positively reluctant about sharing their religion. Many a Protestant and a non-Catholic find us cold and aloof. They feel that we really don’t want to be bothered with them. We never invite them to our services. We leave them out of all things Catholic.

So they arc often surprised and usually pleased when we invite them in. a friendly way.

In some cases a frank statement of our own interest in their conversion is a good idea.

“You know we never want to bother you about becoming a. Catholic. That would be something you’d have to decide entirely for yourself. But, just the same, you know how happy it would make us if you ever decided to join us in the faith.”

A pleasant, cordial invitation of this sort makes a profound impression.

Beyond all else, however, the non-Catholics in the household are impressed by what they see their Catholic relatives do. If faith obviously influences their conduct, if they love the faith and its practices, if they never miss their essential duties, if they never shock the non-Catholic by sharp criticism of or complaint about the obligations of the faith, if they live their faith and enjoy it and get a lot of happiness and consolation out of it, this is the most powerful argument and persuasion.

But even then that personal invitation is important.

You may get a surprisingly pleasant response to it.

IF GOD KNOWS WHAT I AM GOING TO DO, WHETHER I SHALL BE SAVED OR LOST, THERE IS NOTHING THAT 1 CAN DO ABOUT IT. MY FATE IS SEALED. SO WHY WORRY?

Inevitably someone pops up with this question of predestination. It seems to be one of the commonest of difficulties.

Instead of answering the question directly, let’s take an example or parallel.

We are watching the ski jumpers in the city park. A jumper comes to the top of the run, poises, and tips his skis downward. You and I are certain that the man is going to make the slide and the jump at the end of the run. He has not done so yet, but from his position and movements we are certain that he intends to do so. Indeed, even before our thoughts take very definite form, he lets himself go, glides down the packed snow, and hurtles through the air in a magnificent leap.

Now, read this over carefully and follow the line of thought:

We knew that the man was going to make the ski jump.

Actually he did what we knew he would do.

So we foresaw his actions, and he lived up to our forecast.

But, here is the point: we knew he would make the ski jump, and we knew this because he was going to make the jump.

He did not make the ski jump because we knew he would.

In other words, our foreknowledge in this case depended on what the man would do. He did not jump because we had foreknowledge of his jumping. We had foreknowledge of his jumping because he was going to jump.

God’s foreknowledge of us can be paralleled in some way by this. Of course, God’s vision of the world is much more elaborate and hence will not fit into any human comparison. But with God everything is now. With Him there is no past, present, or future. Everything for Him simply is.

So, looking down into history and time, He sees you and me and all of us. He sees not merely what we have of our own free will done in the past; He sees what of our own free will we shall do in the future. He sees the things that we will decide to do. Later on we decide to do those things. He foresaw because of our future decision. Our future decision was not caused by the fact that He foresaw it.

So God, looking forward, sees that a year from now you and I will have the same temptation. He sees you freely resisting and me freely yielding. Looking into the future, as you and I did in the case of the man on the ski jump, He watches us make our decision. He foresees you freely deciding to resist; me freely deciding to sin. But we do not make our decision because God foresees it. He foresees it because we will make it. Looking still further forward into our lives, God sees us deciding whether we want to go to heaven or to hell. The time comes, and we make our final decision. That decision is, with God’s grace or in contempt of it, ours to make. But He foresees what we shall freely choose to do.

If right now you determine, and mean it, “I will end my life in heaven,” God sees your decision and is wonderfully happy. If somewhere in the world someone is saying, “I mean to go to hell,” God sees that, too, and regrets it.

But we do not make our decisions because God has foresees them.

God foresees our decisions because we will make them.

All this may take a lot of thinking, but it grows clearer with deeper thought.

HOW MUCH FAITH SHOULD I HAVE IN PRAYER? SHOULD I DEMAND THAT GOD GIVE ME MY WAY? OR SHOULD I PUT MY PRAYER SO VAGUELY THAT I LEAVE IT PRETTY MUCH UP TO GOD?

Our Blessed Lord Himself promised, “Ask, and it shall be given you.”

Where prayer is concerned, we may start with the certainty that no prayer is ever wasted. If we pray with faith and sincerity and perseverance, our prayer will most certainly be answered. We have Christ’s guarantee for that. God will give us what we ask. Or if His clear vision sees that what we ask is bad for us, He graciously gives us something else and better.

So, in all our prayers we must pray with that understanding. “I want this, God, provided You foresee that it would not be bad for me.”

God Himself set us the lovely example of prayer made perfectly. As He faced His Passion in the vision of Gethsemani, human dread and fear shook Him to the depths of His soul. So He prayed with all His heart that the awful chalice held to His lips be withdrawn.

Immediately, however, He added the essential condition: “But yet not My will, but Thine be done.”

So we can ask from God, and ask generously.

We can put all our needs, spiritual and temporal, and even our half-formed desires before Him.

Always though for our own safety and to protect ourselves against a future which we cannot possibly foresee, we should put these requests in the subjunctive mood: “If they are good for me, dear Lord, let me have them.”

Then God, looking forward to see what the consequences of His granting our requests would be, will grant our requests or withhold them, His actions depending on whether He sees them benefiting us or doing us harm.

If the thing we ask is nor granted, we can safely expect the substitute gift-something that turns out to be exactly what is for our best interests.

Luckily for us God is not only a generous Father; He is a wise and farseeing protector of His children.

WHAT IS THE HEROIC ACT?

It is an act of charity, of splendid, courageous love offered to God and souls by many a fine Catholic, religious and lay. By this act the Catholic places, usually in the hands of the Blessed Virgin, all the merits he may earn on earth. He asks that these be used for the souls in Purgatory. He offers, in addition, all the Masses and prayers and good works that may be offered for him after his death, releasing all these, too, for the souls in Purgatory.

From the time that he makes his act, he does not profit by any of the indulgences and good works which might remit the temporal punishment due to his own sins. He transfers all these to the souls in Purgatory. He further agrees to remain suffering in Purgatory as long as God wishes and the guilt on his own soul demands.

So his Purgatory may be very long and painful.

He takes this chance out of his desire to help others now and after his death.

SHALL WE KNOW OUR OWN IN HEAVEN?

Indeed, we shall.

That will be one of the great joys of heaven. We shall be eternally reunited with those we have known, loved, and perhaps lost on earth.

After all, it is the characteristics of the soul which are distinctive, and the minds and wills of those we love which make them most lovable.

Then when our bodies rise from the grave, the reunion will be still more joyous and complete.

SUPPOSE IT IS FRIDAY. YOU ORDER MEAT IN A RESTAURANT; AND WHEN YOU BEGIN TO EAT, YOU REMEMBER THAT IT IS FRIDAY. ARE YOU OBLIGED TO GO WITHOUT THE MEAT?

If you would go hungry if you did not eat what you ordered, you may eat your dinner -that is, if you can’t afford to spend money on another dinner, or if your cancelling your order would mean a real inconvenience to others. But if you are not running the danger of going hungry by not eating the meat, you shouldn’t eat it.

WHAT KIND OF SIN DID ADAM AND EVE COMMIT? I’VE HEARD THAT IT WAS A SIN OF IMPURITY. It was clearly a sin of disobedience. But, then, in a way all sins are sins of disobedience. They are all a refusal to obey

God’s law.

It is hard to say just where arose the misapprehension about our first parents” sins being one of impurity. Possibly that came about through a misunderstanding of the word concupiscence.

Strictly, concupiscence means any desire. There was on the part of Adam and Eve a strong desire for power, to be like

God, to eat the forbidden fruit. So concupiscence was involved. When human desires become inclined toward evil instead of toward good, this state is referred to as the growth of concupiscence.

A great many people, though, think that all desire is the desire of the flesh. Such thinking is not correct, though it is possible that that desire is the one that most vividly impresses human beings.

At any rate, there was a confusion, and the desires of Adam and Eve became mixed up in people’s minds with the con—cupiscence of the flesh.

WHY DO WE ALWAYS HAVE AN ITALIAN POPE?

History reveals that there have been Popes of the widest range of nationalities. There were Jewish Popes, Greek, German, African, Italian, French, even one Englishman.

Within the past centuries the office of Pope has become a very technical post. The Pope is ruler of the tiny Vatican State. He is in constant communication with the countries of the world and their representatives. He must be able to handle easily the enormous detail of his office. An untrained, inexperienced man might well be lost in this welter of detail and this mass of essential and official routine.

Hence the men best suited for the office are those Cardinals who have lived long in the Vatican. City and know its background, procedure and complicated detail.

If a man better suited to handle all this were found among those Cardinals of other nations, he might easily be chosen to be Pope. Right now the men best trained are the Italian Cardinals, who live constantly in the atmosphere of the Vatican.

But any change of conditions might change entirely our idea of the type of man best suited for the office of Holy Father.

IS THERE ANYTHING ONE CAN DO TO MAKE CATHOLICS MORE FRIENDLY? Yes. Each of us personally can start being more friendly.

Often friendliness is just a matter of being friendly and deserving friendship and showing signs of wanting friendship from others.

In their defence let us remember that Catholics go to church to worship God. They are not inclined to think of their church as a social centre, as many non-Catholics think of their church.

Beyond that, most Catholics are really very social people. They lead pleasant home lives. They love good music. They enjoy social events and are inclined to be fond of parties. They are great for starting and joining societies. If anything, they seem to run too many societies. For almost any kind of excuse they will get together to eat and talk.

Perhaps, however, because of their minority status in America and because of frequent persecution and the continued contempt and dislike shown them by certain groups, Catholics may tend to withdraw a little into themselves. They become distrustful or have an inherited distrust of strangers. They cling to those they know and are sure of.

Maybe if Catholics acquired a little more self-confidence, if they were more conscious of their own magnificent cultural tradition, if they were prouder of their history and surer of their value to the world at large, they might be less shy of strangers, even of Catholic strangers.

And if they remembered that friendliness is a form of charity and can be a high supernatural virtue, they might practice it more freely.

But friendliness wins friendliness.

Perhaps what we need is a Catholic campaign called, “Let’s Speak to Another Catholic Today.”

Nihil obstat:

WILLIAM M. COLLINS, Diocesan Censor.

Imprimatur:

@ DANIEL MANNIX,

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis.

********

The Reading of The Scriptures

BY FATHER FELIX, O.F.M.CAP

INDEX

The study of the Scriptures is pleasant and interesting, but it would be going too far to say that it is easy. They treat of God and the supernatural, we could not expect to grasp the full sense of the Sacred text at a reading. We require help to understand the Bible. Now, the labours of the greatest scholars of the whole Christian era have done much to clarify the meaning of the Scriptures. Sound principles of interpretation have been formulated to guide us in reading; knowledge of these will be of the greatest assistance to us. Again, a general idea of the content of each of the two Testaments that make up the Bible will be at once an attraction and an aid to the reading and understanding of them. This is true of the classics of ordinary literature; it is no less true of the Bible.

THE INTERPRETATION OF THE SCRIPTURES

THE first rule for the interpretation of Holy Scripture is that the text be read carefully. This may appear selfevident, but at least it requires to be emphasised. Nothing is so important as the reading of the Scripture itself- continuous, assiduous reading, and so far as possible, methodical, systematic reading. An old trite axiom says: “The best commentary on the Bible is the Bible itself.” The Bible is an harmonious whole. The books which compose it, though beautifully varied in literary form and style, are one in their principal author,-God; and one in their purpose,-to teach us God. One passage in the Bible will shed light on another, and the study of the text itself is always the first consideration.

Again, for the very reason that the Bible is difficult of interpretation the text must be read closely. The same is true of any difficult text. Thus, in the matter of Canon Law, the law of the Church, which requires close study and often a commentary by an expert, the same rule holds good. “Read the Code” is always the advice of professors to students of this subject. This is not to depreciate commentaries. These have their function and value, to be sure; but they are of secondary importance to the reading of the text. A well-known adage of philosophy warns us that “The accessory follows the principal.” The commentary is an accessory; the text is the principal. The commentary is a means to an end; the end is the elucidation of the text. This golden rule of reading the text is convincingly established by its success in the case of St. Jerome,* whom the Church, in the prayer for his feast (Roman Breviary, September 30th) calls Her “greatest Doctor in interpreting the Sacred Scriptures.” With reference to his stay of three years on the Aventine in Rome, he writes: “I frequently explained to a number of others, as far as I could; the divine books; reading of them had created interest; interest, familiarity; familiarity, confidence.” (Epistle 45, 2).

Note the sequence-reading, interest, familiarity, confidence; and confidence implies proficiency.

THE ORIENTAL MIND

The Bible was written in the East, and its idiom and literary form reflect the Oriental mind, and differ widely from our western mode of expression. For one thing, figurative language abounds, especially those four figures of speech which we call respectively the simile, the parable, the metaphor, the allegory. For the easterns, who are a highly imaginative people, these figures are the ordinary mode of conveying ideas; we use them too, but not nearly to the same extent. In any event, they are almost a necessity for bringing home the truths of religion to the ordinary mind. Our knowledge comes to us through the senses, and we think mainly in terms of space and time. A trained philosopher can transcend these limitations and think in the abstract, but trained philosophers are a minority of mankind. Now, the truths which the Bible teaches deal with the spiritual order, with a world not measured in terms of time and space. These figures of speech, therefore, convey the divine message in a manner suited to the capacity of the simplest mind, and at the same time add great literary beauty.

A simile is simply a comparison. Thus, Our Lord expressed His solicitude for the people of Jerusalem by comparing it to that instinctive care of the mother hen which gathers her chickens beneath her wings for their comfort and protection: ‘‘Jerusalem, Jerusalem, . . . how often, would 1 have gathered together thy children, as the hen doth gather her chickens under her wings, and thou wouldst not?” (St. Matthew 23, 37). The idea is conveyed all the more forcibly * St. Jerome was born about 347 A.D.; died in 420 A,D. because the Saviour’s love is compared with something which is familiar to us, and expressed in terms of what is known to us.

THE PARABLES

Closely allied to the simile is the parable, which we meet especially in the Gospels where it is so frequently made a vehicle of His teaching by the Son of God. A parable is a sustained or continued simile. The parables of the Gospel are of surpassing beauty, rich in glorious and varied imagery simple, yet profound; abounding in force and divine eloquence-God condescending not only to teach us the truths of eternal life, but further to accommodate that teaching to our limited understanding so that we may be led from the things of sight and sound to the higher truth; of the immaterial order. “The kingdom of heaven is said to be like to things of space in order that the mind may rise from the things which it knows to those which it knows not.’’ (St. Gregory, the Great,* Homily II on the Gospels).

In all these similes and parables there is first of all the image taken from ordinary human affairs; for instance, the unjust steward of St. Luke 16, 1–9, who, having neglected his employer’s interests, is called to account.

This must be studied and clearly visualised, to begin with. Secondly, there is the point of comparison,-in every case one particular truth is emphasised, and the comparison is pointed to demonstrate that truth. In this parable of the unjust steward the point of comparison is his sagacity and foresight in making provision for his future by remitting debts due to his master while he still has power to do so; “And the lord commended the unjust steward, forasmuch as he had done wisely” (i.e. prudently). (St. Luke 16, 8). The question of the dishonesty of his action does not enter at all. . The only point at issue is the prudence he displays in regard to his future temporal welfare. This then leads on to the third feature of the parable, viz., the spiritual truth to be demonstrated. This is demonstrated in our parable here by force of contrast: “the children of this world are wiser in. their generation than the children of light. .” (St. Luke 16, 8). People display keener astuteness in their temporal than in their spiritual affairs.

METAPHOR AND ALLEGORY

Metaphors are frequent in the Bible, and a metaphor may be described as “a simile with the words of comparison omitted,” as, for instance, where Our Lord says: “And why seest thou the Mote that ‘is in thy brother’s eye; and seest not the beam that is in thy own, eye?” (St. Matthew 7, 3). People who criticise little imperfections in their neighbour’s conduct when (as often happens in the case of critics) their own conduct is gravely wrong, are described, as it were concerned about a particle of dust in another’s eye and oblivious of the presence in their own of a beam of timber. There is here hyperbole (i.e. exaggeration for rhetorical effect) as well, as again in the description of those “who strain out a gnat and swallow a camel” (St. Matthew 23, 24); this lends additional emphasis.

The allegory bears the same relation to the metaphor as the parable does to the simile-it is a sustained metaphor. Thus, the necessity of Divine Grace is forcibly taught in the Gospel passage where Our Lord says: “I am the true vine; and My Father is the husbandman, . . . Abide in Me, and I in you. As the branch cannot bear fruit of itself, unless it abide in the vine, so neither can you, unless you abide in Me. . . . Without Me you can do nothing” (St. John 15,1–5).

These four figures of speech are all closely related. To understand one is to understand all. Then, that done, we have already acquired much that will help us to understand the doctrine and to appreciate the literary charm of the Scriptures generally, and of the Gospels in particular.

THE CONTEXT

After the text, the matter next in importance is the context, i.e., the part of the book before and after a particular passage. This gives us the general trend of the sense. Many difficulties which arise will be resolved by reconsidering a text in the light of the general argument, or theme of the chapter or book. And many of the objections which are urged against Catholic doctrine are simple instances of texts of Scripture arbitrarily wrenched from their context and then given a meaning which they do not bear in the Scripture itself. Even already in apostolic times there were “the unlearned and unstable” who similarly “wrested the Scriptures to their own destruction.” (cfr. 2 St. Peter 3, 16).

* St. Gregory the Great, Pope, born about 540 A.D, died 604 A.D.

COMMENTARIES

From this point onward good commentators have their proper place; and by good commentators I mean those Catholic scholars who, beginning from the Fathers and Doctors of the Church, have laboured in every century since to make clear the meaning of the Word of God in learned works of introduction, exegesis, and Biblical Theology. These books tell us, as far as possible, the history of the human author and of his time; the occasion which called forth a ‘particular book of Scripture; the people to whom it was first addressed, etc. This is by way of preparation. They then take up the text verse by verse, and explain its meaning, and always in the light of the text of the original language (Hebrew, Aramaic, or Greek) in which the book was written. A translation can never convey the meaning as the original will, and a good commentary will always be able to clarify little obscurities in the text by reference to the original. Thus, Philippians 3, 2: “Beware of dogs: beware of evil workers: beware of the concision,” becomes much more intelligible from the Greek text which has: ‘Beware of the dogs, beware of the bad workmen, beware of the concision.’ St. Paul here refers to the Judaizing heretics of the early Church whom he calls ‘dogs’-symbolical of uncleanness; ‘bad workmen’- because they destroyed, instead of building, the mystical Temple of God, i.e. the Church; ‘the concision’ (metonomy—abstract for concrete) i.e. the multilated,-an ironical reference to the circumcision which they sought to impose as of precept.

Another useful matter in exegesis is the history of secular events contemporary with the biblical narrative. Thus, the history of the rise of the Persian Empire under Cyrus sheds much light on the text of the Books of Esdras : that of the Herodian dynasty on the Gospels and the Acts of the Apostles. In his explanation of St. Matthew 10, where we read of the return of the Holy Family from Egypt “when Herod was dead,” St. Jerome. has: “many err through ignorance of history thinking that the Herod by whom Our Lord was mocked during His Passion is the same as he who is here said to be dead. That Herod, who afterwards renewed friendship with Pilate is the son of this Herod and a brother of Archelaus.” (Commentary on St. Matthew, Book I). The geography of Palestine is equally useful. In this latter we can assist ourselves by a little study of the maps which are found in all good editions of the Scriptures. We will easily familiarise ourselves with the physical and geographical features of the Holy Land; its position north of Arabia, south of Syria, with Phoenicia at the north-west; its capital, Jerusalem ; the course of the river Jordan,-rising at the foot of the Anti-Lebanon range of Mountains, flowing southward through Lake Merom (modern Hûleh), and the Lake of Genesareth, through the Jordan Valley (El Ghor) till it empties into the Dead Sea; the sites of Hebron, Bethlehem, Nazareth, Cana, Naim, Bethania, etc. A small country, no bigger than the Irish province of Munster, the Holy Land has been the theatre of the most wonderful events in the history of the world.

THEOLOGY

Finally, and especially, a good commentator on the Scriptures will come to his task “well acquainted with the whole circle of Theology and deeply read in the commentaries of the Holy Fathers and the Doctors, and other interpreters of mark.” (Encyclical of Pope Leo XIII, Providentissimus Deus). This is an essential qualification in an exegete; it is not merely an advantage, it is absolutely indispensable, a sine qua non. This by reason of the very nature of the Scriptures. They are not ordinary books; they are the inspired Word of God; they have a dual authorship,- divine and human. Their purpose is to teach us divine truth, and, to quote again from the same source, “the language of the Bible is employed to express, under the inspiration of the Holy Ghost, many things which are beyond the power and scope of the nature and reason of man-that is to say divine mysteries and all that is related to them.” The Pope quotes at length to the same effect from the writings of the Fathers of the Church, especially from St. Irenaus,* St. Jerome, St. Augustine.t Then, he goes on to say: “Wherefore the first, the dearest object of the Catholic commentator should be to interpret those passages which have received an authentic interpretation either from the sacred writers themselves, under the inspiration of the Holy Ghost (as in many places of the New Testament), or from the Church, under the assistance of the same Holy Spirit, whether by her solemn judgment or her ordinary and universal magisterium (Council of the Vatican. Session 3, Chapter 3)-to interpret these passages in that identical sense, and to prove by all the resources of science, that sound hermeneutical laws admit of no other interpretation. In other passages * St. Irenaus, Bishop of Lyons, lived in the second century. t St. Augustine-354–430 the analogy of faith should be followed, and Catholic doctrine, as authoritatively proposed by the Church, should be held as the supreme law; for, seeing that the same God is author both of the Sacred Books and of the divine command to the Church, it is clearly impossible that any teaching can by legitimate means be extracted from the former, which shall in any respect be at variance with the latter.” These words put the Catholic position clearly.

AN OBJECTION ANSWERED

‘This is eminently reasonable, as every Catholic knows well. Many non-Catholics, however, object to this ruling of the Church as being tyrannical and a curtailment of our freedom in biblical study. On the contrary, this ruling “rather protects it (the pursuit of biblical science) from error, and largely assists its real progress. A wide field is still left open to the private student in which his hermeneutical skill may display itself with signal effect, and to the advantage of the Church.” (Ibid.) There is no curtailment of freedom properly so called. Freedom is a mean between unreasonable servitude on the one hand and unreasonable licence on the other. We are not free to think contrary to the laws of mathematics; yet no one calls it tyranny because we may not think that ten and ten make fifteen. So likewise we are still free though we are bound to conform to the laws of logic and Theology. Our opponents might as reasonably maintain that a physician’s freedom is curtailed by his knowledge of chemistry. It is,-in the sense that he has no longer freedom to administer wrong drugs through ignorance, and so poison his patient. The freedom which the Catholic exegete enjoys appertains to the true freedom referred to in the Gospel: “Then Jesus said to those Jews who believed in him: if you continue in My Word you shall be my disciples indeed. And you shall know the truth and the truths shall make you free.” (St. John 8, 31–32). Truth is the friend, not the enemy of freedom.

Finally, the Bible presupposes Theology. Consider its opening sentence: “In the beginning God created heaven and earth.” (Genesis 1, 1). This statement supposes at least that the reader believes in the supernatural and that he is a monotheist; otherwise, the Bible would begin by stating and proving the existence of God. And, as a fact of history, the Israelites of Moses’ time, for whom Genesis was first written, had Theology.

THE NEW TESTAMENT

The word testament means a covenant, a pact, an agreement between two parties. It was used to denote the covenant or agreement made by God with Abraham (Genesis 17), where the latter in return for faith in God and obedience to God’s commands was promised great blessings for himself and his descendants. This Testament was only to lead on to another which was frequently foretold in the prophecies, viz., “the New and Eternal Testament,” inaugurated by Our Divine Lord at the Last Supper and on Calvary, sealed in His Precious Blood, and solemnly promulgated on the day of the first Pentecost. St. Paul explains that the New Testament makes the former old (cfr. Hebrews 8, 13); thus came the terms Old and New Testament. The books of the Old Testament are those written during the period of the first Covenant; the books of the New are those written after the Christian era began. We speak of them respectively as the Old and New Testaments of the Bible.

THE GOSPELS

When we open our New Testament the first books we meet are the four Gospels. The word Gospel is from the old Anglo-Saxon godspel, a compound of god (good) and spa, (tidings). It is a literal rendering of the Greek word, euaggelion, latinised into evanyclium. We have the same root in the word evangelist. The word was used several times by Our Lord to mean the doctrine of Christianity, e.g., in St. Mark 16, 15: “Go ye into the whole world and preach the Gospel to every creature.” The meaning of the word is clarified from the parallel passage in St. Matthew 28, 19–20: “Going, therefore, teach ye all nations: baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost. Teaching them to observe all things whatsoever I have commanded you.” In this sense also the word is used by St. Paul: “For I am not ashamed of the Gospel. For it is the power of God unto salvation . . .” (Romans I, 16). It means the whole economy of the Christian dispensation with its divine benefits on the one hand and on the other, its doctrine- dogmatic and moral, mystical and liturgical. This is what we mean when we speak of “the Gospel” without further qualification. The word is admirably adapted to its purpose-the Gospel is primarily and above all the glad tidings of victory in and through Christ Our Lord.

Here I digress for a moment to reprobate the practice of misapplying to merely human doctrines this word, gospel, consecrated by Our Lord Himself to connote His incomparable divine teaching, and so used for nineteen centuries. In rhetoric and literature we find this misapplication frequently. However good and desirable these doctrines may be thought to be by their advocates, the latter should be able to realise that they are separated by a gulf of infinity from the unique doctrine of Christ in which “the justice of God is revealed. . . . from faith unto faith,” (Romans 1, 17). The practice has now taken on the character of a literary vogue, and Catholics require to be warned against adopting it.

THE WRITTEN GOSPELS

To resume our theme, we can now understand the meaning of the title “according to” given to the written Gospels. “The Holy Gospel of Jesus Christ according to St. Matthew” means the record of the life and teaching of Our Divine Lord while on earth, written under the inspiration of the Holy Ghost by St. Matthew. And so for SS. Mark, Luke and John, respectively. This we understand always, when for brevity we speak of “the Gospel of St. Matthew,” or simply (as in references) “St. Matthew.” Strictly speaking it would be more correct to say the four books of the one Gospel than the four Gospels, as St. Augustine observes. (in ioannem, tractatus 36, 1). Also this form of title indicates the fact that the Gospels are not merely historical books, but in addition, doctrinal, and primarily doctrinal. (Rudolf Comely, S.J. Compendium Introduction-is in U.T. libros. 8 ed. Paris, 1914 p. 474).

The first three Gospels (SS. Matthew, Mark, Luke) are called the Synoptic Gospels, or the Synoptics simply. This term has a history. From the time of St. Augustine at least, Scriptural scholars had been impressed by the many resemblances in the matter, order and style of the first three Gospels, whereas St. John is in complete contrast on all three points. For one thing, St. John treats almost exclusively of Our Lord’s ministry in Judea, while they treat mainly of His ministry in Galilee. The question becomes the more complicated by reason of many points of difference which exist between the said three Gospels mutually. The better to study this question, a German biblical critic named Johann Jacob Griesbach (1745–1812) had the text of the first three Gospels printed in parallel columns. This was called a synopsis, because all three could be seen simultaneously; this is the etymological meaning of the word, which has now come to denote an epitome. From that arose the terms Synoptic Gospels and Synoptic Problem. Granted the synoptic problem, however, the four evangelists are at one in giving a detailed history of the Passion and Crucifixion of Our Divine Lord. This agrees in turn with St. Paul : “We preach Christ crucified . . .” (I Corinthians I, 23).

The Gospels are particularly dear to us, for they are the Word of God in a twofold sense. They are written under divine inspiration, and have God for their author. In addition they record the acts and words of the Incarnate Son of God during His glorious life on earth. If this record had been written by an ordinary historian who was a contemporary and an eye-witness it would still be very valuable indeed; but written as it is by the inspired evangelists it is of transcendent value.

ACTS OF THE APOSTLES

St. Luke, the evangelist, “the most dear physician” (Colossians 4, 14), tells us the history of the early Church in this eminently beautiful book of the Acts, and in his simple and distinctive style. It is intended to be a sequel to the narrative of the third Gospel.

Beginning from Our Lord’s Ascension into Heaven, it describes (chapters 1–12) the Descent of the Holy Ghost at Pentecost; the first preaching of the Apostles; the piety and fervour of the first Christians and the waywardness of some few; the ordination of the first deacons; St. Stephen, the first of the Christian martyrs; the conversion of St. Paul the Apostle; the vocation of the gentiles; the persecution of the Church by Herod Agrippa, grandson of Herod who had caused the Holy Innocents to be massacred (Matthew 2, 16). From this point onward (chapters 13–28), the narrative centres entirely around St. Paul. It tells of his three great missionary journeys; his introducing the Gospel into Europe; the persecutions he suffered; his arrest, trial, imprisonment, and the shipwreck at Malta; his arrival in Rome, “a prisoner of Christ Jesus” (Philemon 1), in 61 A.D.

THE EPISTLES OF ST. PAUL

St. Paul the Apostle-the “vessel of election” (Acts 9, 15), i.e., the divinely elected instrument, the “Doctor of the gentiles”-was suddenly changed from a persecutor of the Church into a zealous preacher of the Gospel by a stupendous miracle (Acts 9). Christ, Our Lord, Who had ascended into Heaven, came down to earth again and appeared to him. Christianity took to itself all that was good in the three great civilisations of the Hebrews, Greeks, and Romans; And St. Paul united in himself all three-born in Asia Minor, a Roman citizen, of Jewish-parentage, and educated in Jerusalem “at the feet of Gamaliel” (Acts 22, 3)- Gamaliel who was one of the seven greatest Jewish Doctors of all time. Christianity, through the aid of divine Grace, gives the perfection of every natural endowment; and this perfection was realised in the Apostle to an extraordinary degree.

In the New Testament we have fourteen of St. Paul’s Epistles.* They are inexhaustible sources of the most profound and sublime doctrine; and side by side with this the wonderful personality of St. Paul reveals itself so clearly that you soon come to know him and to love him, and to think of him as a friend.

THE CATHOLIC EPISTLE’S;T THE APOCALYPSE

The seven Catholic Epistles are written in very simple language. They were written to meet the practical spiritual needs of the Christians of the first century, and they contain exhortations to virtue and to the observance of the Christian law. St. James treats, among other things, of the necessity of good works, without which faith lacks its life, which is charity. He denounces in very convincing words the myriad evils which arise from an unguarded. tongue, and by an apt comparison shows how unreasonable it is that the same tongue should be employed to bless (i.e. praise) God, and curse a fellowman: “Doth a fountain send forth out of the same hole sweet and bitter water?.” (St. James 3, 11). There are two Epistles of St. Peter, “the first Papal Encyclicals.” The first Epistle of St. John is a covering letter of introduction to his Gospel; his three Epistles exhale that spirit of love which we associate with “the beloved Disciple.” The brief Epistle of St. Jude denounces heresy and vice, and is written in a style of plain unstudied eloquence.

Lastly, there is the Apocalypse** written by St. John the Evangelist when he was a prisoner, exiled by order of the Emperor Domitian in the rocky island of Patmos in the Aegean Sea. (1, 9). The first three chapters are easily understood; he addresses admonitions to the bishops of the seven principal churches of Asia Minor, and his gentleness is not incompatible with strength and force when abuses call for correction. From chapter 4 the book contains prophecies relating to the future of the Church and the end of the world, and these are veiled in imagery which is not a little obscure.

Appropriately, the Apocalypse ends with a description of Heaven under the symbolism of a city. Thus the Bible begins on earth and ends in Heaven. So also with regard to the understanding of its divine message; it too, begins on earth and it will end and be complete only in the light of the beatific Vision in Heaven.

THE OLD TESTAMENT

Both Testaments alike are the inspired Word of God. The Council of Florence states clearly: “The Holy Roman Church . . . professes that One and the Same God is Author of the Old and the New Testament, i.e., of this Law and the Prophets and of the Gospel: because the holy men of both Testaments spoke under the inspiration of the Same Holy Spirit.” (Decree for the Jacobites. Denzinger Bannwart. 16 ed. No. 706). The New Testament itself bears witness to this in Our Lord’s own words in the Sermon on the Mount: “Do not think that I am come to destroy the law or the prophets. I am not come to destroy but to fulfil.” (St. Matthew 5, 17).

* The authorship of the Epistle to the Hebrews has been from Patristic times an open question among Catholic scholars, and remains so still. I speak of its Pauline authorship without prejudice to the opinion of those who claim that in its final form it was written by another than St. Paul, since they agree that “St Paul conceived and conveyed the matter of the Epistle . . . leaving its form to another hand.” (C. C. Martindale, S.J. Princes of His People, 2. St. Paul. ‘‘The Household of God” Series. London, 1924, p. 240). This opinion has the full sanction of the Biblical Commission : Denzinger-Bannwart 15 ed. Nos. 2176–2178. t Catholic or Universal, because not addressed to particular churches or individuals as were St. Paul’s Epistles. ** apocalypse is a Greek word meaning Revelation.

Again, when we read the New Testament we must be impressed by the number of citations from, and references to the Old Testament. This is especially true of the Gospel of St. Matthew and of St. Paul’s Epistles. St. Matthew in writing his Gospel had in mind the immediate needs of those Jews who were the first converts to Christianity, and in consequence he proved for them that Christ Our Lord is the Messias promised and foretold in the Old Testament Scriptures. St. Paul was well versed in the Old Testament before his conversion. He quotes it very frequently, and uses it with great effect in defending and expounding the Gospel. To understand the New Testament, therefore, it is necessary to read and study the Old.

Nor is the interest which we discovered in the study of the New Testament absent from that of the Old. On the contrary, it is, if possible, still greater. It was to the Old Testament Scriptures Our Lord referred when He said:

“Search the Scriptures. . . . the same are they that give testimony of Me.” (St. John 5, 39). This testimony of Our Divine Redeemer has an imperative claim on us. Again, the heroic virtues of many of the saints of the Old Law are proposed in the New Testament for our admiration and imitation, e.g., the faith of Abraham (Hebrews 8, 10) ; the patience of Job (St., James 5, 11); the modesty of Sara. ( I St. Peter 3, 6).

THE HISTORICAL BOOKS

The first five books of the Old Testament are called the Pentateuch.* They were written by Moses to whom we have frequent reference in the New Testament. He begins with a short account of the creation of the material universe and of man in two sublime chapters. Then already in the third chapter of the first book (Genesis) we have the terrible tragedy of the Fall by which sin and sorrow were introduced into the world, disturbing the harmony of all creation. The narrative moves rapidly on to describe the circumstances leading to the Deluge; then we have the call of Abraham, and thenceforward Abraham and his descendants are the chosen people to whom “the words of God were committed” (Romans 3, 2).

THE TYPICAL SENSE OF HOLY SCRIPTURE

The Book of Exodus tells of Moses and his mission to deliver the Hebrew people from Egypt, where they had been persecuted and reduced to slavery. In connection with this deliverance it describes the first institution of the Pasch, which became the greatest religious festival of the Old Law. The exodus of the Israelites from Egypt and the sacrifice of the Paschal Lamb are two examples of many places in the Old Testament where there is a typical or mystical sense in addition to the literal. The words tell us the historical facts which occurred, but, moreover, these facts themselves had a further meaning, and were prophetical of future events which found fulfilment in the New Law. From St. Matthew 2, 15, we know that this liberation of the Israelites under Moses’ leadership was a type or prophetic figure of the return of Christ from Egypt. Similarly, the sacrifice of the Paschal Lamb was a type of the immolation of Our Lord on Calvary. (cfr. ,St. John 19, 36). Even the ceremonies prescribed for the celebration of the Paschal ritual were significant and symbolical. No leaven could be used during the week of the festival (Exodus 12, 15); the full significance of this is explained by St. Paul-leaven is the symbol of corruption and sin, and the unleavened bread symbolises “sincerity and truth” (I Corinthians 5, 7–8).

The Pentateuch brings the history of the Old Testament down to the death of Moses and the end of the Patriarchal period about 1400 B.C. Josue describes the conquest and division of Chanaan (Palestine) by the Israelites, under the valiant hero of that name who is also the human author of the book. Judges tells of their system of government under divinely appointed Judges or dictators for a period of about four hundred years. The idyllic Book of Ruth (of four chapters only) tells how Ruth, a Moabite woman, and therefore a gentile, became the wife of Boos and so the ancestress of King David. She is one of the three women mentioned in the genealogy of the human ancestry of Our Lord (St. Matthew 1, 5). The four Books of Kings and the two of Paralipomenon treat of the Monarchy of Israel until the Babylonian Exile (1051–586 B.C.). In 4 Kings 17, we have the origin of that strange people, the Samaritans. They were “planted” into Palestine from Babylon and its environs by the Assyrian King, Salmansasar; a fact which accounts for their peculiar cult (St. John 4, 20), and explains the mutual antipathy between Samaritan and Jew, thus illustrating many passages in the New Testament.

* Pentateuch is a compound Greek word meaning five sheaths (or cases) in which the rolls or volumes were kept.

Tobias is of special interest in that it belongs to the former Exile, that of the Ten Tribes. Judith and Esther tell of the Jewish heroines whose names they bear. The two Books of Esdras relate the return of the Jews from the Babylonian Exile, and the rebuilding of Jerusalem and its Temple. Then there is a lacuna in Sacred History until the Machabees (1 and 2), which record incidents in the religious persecution under the Syro-Grecian Seleucids, successors of Alexander the Great (166–40 B.C.).

THE PROPHETS

In the Scriptures the word prophet means one who speaks for another rather than one who foretells future events. Thus Aaron is called the “prophet” of Moses (Exodus 7, 1), because he acted as spokesman for the latter before Pharaoh. Moses is called a “prophet” (Deuteronomy 34, 10) because he was bearer of God’s message. In time this meaning (spokesman of God) became the technical one, and in the period of Monarchy a “prophet” is one who announces the word of God, generally under divine inspiration. This meaning is retained until the end of the New Testament. The Prophets whose books we read in the Old Testament were all inspired preachers sent in times of religious crisis to preach repentance to sinners and to comfort the just.

In the ninth century B.C. the Prophets begin, and the most delightful chapters of 2 and 4 Kings are those which tell of Elias the Thesbite, the prophet of Carmel (one of the greatest personalities of the Old Testament), and his successor, Eliseus. In the following century, and thence till the end of the Babylonian Exile we have the literary prophets, so called because they have left us their writings in the Bible. Of these there are sixteen (not including Baruch who is generally reckoned with (Jeremias)-the four Greater and the twelve Lesser Prophets. The prophetical books contain the preaching of those Prophets,-vehement denunciation of sin and vice, and moving appeals to repentance and perseverance in virtue.

Especially do the Prophets foretell the coming of the Redeemer. They describe in marvellous detail His character, mission, and miracles, and many circumstances of His life, particularly His sufferings and death. Isaias in places reads more like a Gospel than a Prophet. Icrentias, “the most pathetic of the Prophets,” is a Prophet of the Babylonian Exile. His mission was in an evil time,, and he was cruelly persecuted by his own people. Yet he loved them intensely, and his Lamentation for the destruction of Jerusalem and the ruin of the Temple are unique in all literature. Ezechiel also is a Prophet of the Babylonian Exile: he prophesied in Babylon itself. The last of the Greater Prophets, Daniel, was also in exile in Babylon. His life, miraculously preserved on many occasions, is rich in interest. His prophecy is quoted by Our Lord. (St. Matthew 24, 15):

The Lesser Prophets are so called because their books are of lesser extent; their prophecies are not less sublime. Jonas is referred to by Our Lord (St. Matthew 12. 40); his miraculous rescue from the sea is another instance of the typical sense of Scripture. St. Peter cites Joel (Acts 2, 17–21) ; St, Stephen, in his discourse before the Sanhedrin, quotes Amos (Acts. 7, 42–43) ; St. Paul quotes Habacuc (Romans 1, 17), and Osee (Romans 9, 25–26). The short Book of Abdias (of one chapter only) is praised by St. Jerome for the sublime mysteries it contains. Micheas foretold the teaching mission of the Church; Nahum, foretold the fall of Ninive, the Assyrian capital; Sophonias foretold the election of the gentiles and the rejection of the Jews. Aggeus and Zacharias, by their zeal for the House of God, forwarded the rebuilding of the Temple under Zorobabel. Malachias, the last of the Prophets, is thought by some to be the same as Esdras. In his prophecy there is a beautiful passage (1, 11), foretelling the Mass, the perfect and universal and continual sacrifice of the New Law.

THE DIDACTIC BOOKS, THE PSALTER,

The remaining seven books of the Old Testament are called the Didactic or Sapiential Books.* They contain precepts and counsels to guide human conduct in accord with the good designs of God. “Job” and “Job’s comforters” have passed into the language of the proverbial; the Book of Job describes this marvellous man, his sufferings and his patience.

Proverbs is written in the language of the parable ; Ecclesiastes (i.e. the Preacher) speaks eloquently of the vanity

* DIDACTIC because they teach; SAPIENTIAL because they contain precepts and maxims of wisdom. of human glory; the Canticle of Canticles (i.e. the greatest of Canticles) is an allegory in which God’s love is described in terms of human love. Wisdom and Ecclesiasticus are very easily read and understood.

Lastly, there is the Psalter or Book of Psalms, which is of special importance because so very extensively used by the Church in the liturgy. The word psalm also is from the Greek. Its original meaning was the striking of notes on a musical instrument. Later it came to mean a song or poem set to music, and finally its meaning was restricted to the sacred songs or hymns of the Old Testament. The Psalms, therefore, are inspired hymns, i.e. inspired prayers in poetic form. The Book of (one hundred and fifty) Psalms is called the Psalter. The word at first denoted the stringed instrument resembling a harp on which the psalm was played,

CONCLUSION

1. The Bible itself speaks of “the comfort of the Scriptures” (Romans 15, 4). The reading of the Bible in a spirit of faith and humility is an excellent and a practical and a pleasant exercise of piety. But as every good gift of God can be misused, so, too, can the Scriptures. The Church has made just and reasonable laws to protect the Sacred Books from misuse, and to guide us in reading them.

2. We must read the Scriptures from a Catholic edition of them, guaranteed as such by the Ordinary. Such an edition, either of the New Testament separately, or of the whole Bible, can be obtained easily and at a modest price.

3. The reading of the Scriptures is good and praiseworthy and eminently desirable. Our advocacy of the reading of the Bible differs, however, from that of non-Catholics. The Bible is one source of Divine Revelation; Apostolic Tradition is another. The infallible teaching of the Catholic Church makes known to us the doctrines of our faith from these two sources. The reading of the Bible, therefore, is not necessary to salvation; it is an aid: and a powerful aid.

Guided by these very reasonable principles every Catholic who can read may and should draw great spiritual and intellectual profit from THE READING OF THE SCRIPTURES.

********

The Ready Answer

TO MANY COMMON QUESTIONS

BY K.L. KING, B.A., B.ED

INDEX

When Nero blamed the Christians for the great fire in Rome he was readily believed. There is always room for prejudice against people who are not understood. If Catholics, when asked about angels or about freewill have no ready answer their stumbling attempts are sure to be misunderstood; if, when asked to justify the Church’s attitude towards divorce or freemasonry, they can exhibit no more than a blind obedience, non-Catholics will be unimpressed, to say the least. When a sincere enquirer is looking for an immediate and concise proof for the existence of God or of the soul a Catholic may do incalculable harm by not being ready to supply that proof.

The questions that could be asked about the Catholic Faith are innumerable, but the following, with appropriate replies, may serve as a foundation for many variations.

1. People who talk about”God” have only a hazy idea of what they refer to.

The Oxford Dictionary defines”god” as “a superhuman being worshipped as having power over nature and human fortunes.” The idea is not hazy at all. It can be further proved that there is but one true God of infinite power and knowledge.

2. The existence of God cannot be proved. You either believe in God or you don’t.

The Earth is just the right distance from the Sun for human habitation; in the human body identical cells are differently arranged to perform a great variety of functions as nerves, muscles, eyes, brain, and so many more; of all known substances water is the only one which, over any range of temperature, will expand as it cools and this happens with water as it approaches freezing point, with the result that marine life is preserved, whereas otherwise it would be destroyed when large masses, of water froze to a solid mass. Science abounds in examples of law and order, of purpose and design. The intelligence indicates an intelligent creator, and that intelligent being we call “God.”

Admittedly, a man is free to believe that all the purposeful design in nature has come about through an infinite series of events each dependent on highly improbable chance. Such a belief would be scarcely rational. Einstein, probably the most comprehensive scientific mind of our time, was too engrossed in science to give much thought to religion and yet, as reported in Life the week after he died, he declared that his scientific studies had led him to a belief in a Creator of the Universe.

3. If God did exist He wouldn’t allow all the evil and war and suffering in the world.

The marvels of nature are enough to prove that God does exist. That evils and sufferings also exist can only make us wonder why He permits them. Moral evils exist because men have freewill and choose to go against God’s will. God made man as the only creature capable of loving and serving Him voluntarily: freedom to obey God’s will implies freedom to disobey.

Suffering can be understood only in relation to the fall of the human race from God’s favour by the disobedience of the first two human beings. A family might lose a benefice because of disloyalty to the sovereign; the consequent poverty and suffering of the descendents should serve as a constant disciplinary reminder.

4. Doctors have explored man very thoroughly and have never found any trace of a soul.

The student of anatomy examines material evidence, but the soul, the source of thought and freewill and personality, is not a material reality. The human soul, that which distinguishes the living from the dead, is so distinctly an immaterial reality that material evidence of the anatomist can give no certitude of the exact moment at which the soul leaves the body.

5. Even if the soul does exist now, that doesn’t prove that it will exist forever.

Death and destruction mean disintegration. But the soul has no material parts to disintegrate and therefore cannot die.

6. Ghosts are always a bit of a joke. Catholics go too far when they refer to a”Holy Ghost.”

A joke always implies an incongruity, so jokes have been made about the incongruity of seeing immaterial things with material eyes. But spirits and the knowledge of spirits existed before the jokes were made. God is a spirit, an immaterial being in which there are three persons, one of whom we call the Holy Spirit. The emphasis in the name is not on Ghost, which simply means Spirit in accordance with the Divine Nature, but on Holy. We believe that the Holy Spirit because He is Holy in Himself, makes the human race holy and pleasing to God the Father, just as God the Father created the human race, and God the Son redeemed the human race.

7. Man has no freewill. He acts according to the way he has been brought up and the circumstances in which he finds himself.

The thousands of men in prisons today are there because society holds them responsible for their illegal actions. Other men are rewarded with scientific or literary prizes because they are believed by society to be responsible for their works. Society has always accepted the basic assumption of personal responsibility, otherwise known as”freewill.”

Certainly, heredity and environment condition a man’s decisions, but the decisions are still his own and can be made in opposition to the urgings of his own background and circumstances.

8. If God knows the future, don’t I have to act the way He knows I will?

Speaking of”the future” in this context implies that God is limited by man’s vague concept of”time,” a concept which is becoming more and more embarrassingly elusive for scientists. In the absence of any clear meaning for the implication of predetermination it is much more reasonable to accept the evidence of our own conscious realization that in any given situation we are capable of personal decision.

9. Plenty of good people have no religion.

When we say that a person is”good” we mean that he is good for some purpose. “Good for pleasing God” will often coincide with”good for pleasing men,” but not necessarily. Religion tells us what is good for pleasing God; those who have no religion are quite likely to fall short of pleasing God, if only for the reason that they have no such conscious intention.

10. Why must Catholics abuse their intellects by believing in mysteries?

A mystery is something we cannot fully understand. Men believe in light and electricity and hormones, but do not fully understand them. It is only reasonable to expect that we would not fully understand some of the things which God, having infinite intelligence, has revealed to us. Just as we can believe in the power of electricity without fully understanding it, so we can believe in the infinite power of God without fully understanding it.

11. Catholics contradict themselves. They say that God made the laws of nature; then they turn around and say that He breaks them by allowing miracles to happen.

A miracle is a suspension of a law of nature. Surely God, Who made the laws of nature, should be conceded the power of suspending those laws if for no other reason than to demonstrate, when appealed to, that He has that power.

12. Lourdes is a huge hoax.

The Medical Bureau at Lourdes, a panel of doctors of many nations and many shades of belief, has declared hundreds of cures to be contrary to the known laws of science. Of these cures the Church has recognized as miracles less than sixty in over a hundred years. In other words, the Church is less ready than the medical profession to recognize cures at Lourdes as being miraculous.

13. The Gospels are among the most inspiring legends in all literature.

The Gospels are genuine history, better authenticated than any of the classical histories of Greece and Rome, including those of Herodotus and Livy. To prove that a given work is genuine history it is necessary to show that it was written by the ascribed author, that the author was well acquainted with the events described, that he had no intention of deceiving, and that he himself was not deceived. All of these requirements have been proved exhaustively of the Gospels and no reputable historian now doubts their authenticity.

14. Christ was one of the noblest men that ever lived.

Christ was the noblest man that ever lived. More than that, He was God. He showed that He had power over nature by stilling the storm at a word, changing water into wine, curing the lepers, feeding four thousand people with a handful of food, and raising people to life after they had been dead for days; He showed that He was superhuman by raising Himself from the dead, something no other human being has ever done. He must have been God.

15. Catholics are hard to take: they think that they are right and that everyone else is wrong.

Catholics claim to be right only in the interpretation of Christ ‘s teachings. Christ did appoint a teaching body to teach exactly what He taught. Truth forbids that He intended the contradictions to be taught that are found in the Christian sects of today. Obviously, some must be right and. some wrong. Apart from the fact that the Catholic Church is the only Christian body that asserts a claim to infallibility in the teaching of Christ’s doctrines, the Catholic Church is the only church having any absolute unity of belief. The probability of the Catholic Church being the genuine interpreter of Christ’s teaching is too overwhelming for the reason to reject.

16. Catholics believe what priests tell them to believe; Protestants go straight to the Bible for God’s own words.

The words of the Bible, like the State laws, are open to a variety of conflicting interpretations. To find the true interpretation of the words of the Bible the Catholic Church has employed thousands of scholars for nearly two thousand years, pooling the results of their studies in the light of a thorough knowledge of the whole Bible and the writings of the disciples of Christ who lived about His time; some of these scholars devote a lifetime to a special study of the Old Testament, others to the New Testament, others to Hebrew idiom, others to Greek idiom, others to archaeology. On top of that, the Catholic Church is assured of Divine guidance. The advocates of private interpretation of the Bible leave themselves open to grave error.

17. The Church of England is a branch of the Catholic Church.

To speak of the Church of England as a branch of the Catholic Church is an unfortunate metaphor because Henry VIII cut the Church of England off from the Catholic Church; the metaphor can only imply a dead branch.

18. The Church of England has bishops, just as well as the Catholic Church.

If the Church of England wishes to give the title of”bishop” to its administrative leaders it is perfectly free to do so, and Catholics will politely recognize the title for whatever it means. Certainly, the administrator of a diocese is rightly called a”bishop”; but to be a bishop in the Catholic sense a man must have succeeded to the power to ordain priests to say Mass. This succession was lost in the Church of England when, from 1550 to 1662, the ceremony of ordination eliminated all reference to the essential function of the priesthood. The gap in succession of 112 years leaves the Church of England bishop with a title that is meaningful in the administrative sense only.

19. The Greek Orthodox Church is another branch of the Catholic Church.

There is ample evidence in the Gospels that an essential characteristic of the True Church is unity. The differences between the Greek Orthodox Church and the Catholic Church are fundamental, so that the two bodies cannot be considered as two branches of the same church.

20. Catholics would be better off if they took more notice of the Presbyterians’ strict Christian views.

Some Presbyterians do lead more Christian lives than some Catholics but the fact remains, that Christ gave the true Church the Authority to interpret His teaching. John Knox can give his interpretation but that is not necessarily the interpretation Christ intended. Just as individual interpretation of traffic laws would lead to chaos, so much more so with the Word of God.

21. So many Catholics live bad lives that it is clear that the teaching of the Catholic Church is not Christ’s teaching.

If individual Catholics refuse to obey the teachings of the Catholic Church their bad lives in no way indicate that the teachings of the Catholic Church are opposed to Christ’s teaching. Indeed, the moral teaching of the Catholic Church is so strict, in accordance with Christ’s teaching, that it is impossible for a person to live up to that teaching without the special help of God’s grace. Those who fail to do so are those who neglect to pray for that grace.

22. What Catholics need is the Methodists’ love of the Holy Bible.

If the Catholic Church hadn’t preserved the Bible by arduous hand-copying through the centuries before printing was invented the Methodists wouldn’t have a Bible. The first Bible printed was a Catholic Bible. Over a million copies of Monsignor Ronald Knox’s translation of the Bible into modern English idiom were printed before the New English Bible appeared. The Church positively urges Catholics to read the Bible every day. The millions of Catholics all over the world who attend Mass every day read several extracts from the Bible daily.

23. Catholics aren’t allowed to read the real Bible, but only specially edited versions the Church prepares for them.

Seeing that the Catholic Church preserved the Bible through the centuries of barbarian invasions, and still holds the oldest known complete copy (which is freely available to qualified scholars) it is hardly likely that the Catholic Church would countenance omissions or false translations. Indeed, the boot is on the other foot; the Protestant versions do not bear comparison with the copies of the originals kept in the British Museum. Anyone with sufficient knowledge of Greek and Hebrew could easily check the inaccuracies of the Protestant versions. The New English Bible has, happily, corrected many of the former mis-translations and omissions that were made to support non-Catholic doctrines.

24. Catholics theorise too much. The Salvation Army does something practical about Christ’s teaching on loving our neighbour.

The Salvation Army is to be admired for its sincerity and practical charity but it is an incomplete form of Christianity with no authority for teaching what it does teach, beyond a hit-or-miss interpretation of Christ’s doctrines. As for practical charity, the Catholic Church abounds in such works as hospitals and the St. Vincent de Paul Society.

25. Non-Catholics are broadminded enough to go to Catholic services. Why won’t Catholics meet them half way?

Unfortunately, the seeming unfairness is caused by the existence of two different points of view. Non-Catholics generally believe that one Christian Church is as good as another. Catholics, on the other hand, have a rational conviction that the Catholic Church is the only True Church, and that to do anything that might seem to contradict that conviction would do more real harm than good. Strange as it may appear, the Church forbids Catholics to attend non-Catholic services out of a deep regard for the non-Catholics, whom she considers lost sheep from the fold, in the hope that they may seek to discover her motives and the source of her authority, as many have done.

26. Catholics think that only Catholics can get to Heaven.

Catholics believe that anyone who believes all that Christ taught and lives according to that belief will go to Heaven. However, it’s much more likely that a man with a perfect map, an accurate compass, and an absolutely reliable guide will reach his destination through hazardous country than a man with an incomplete, unreliable map, a faulty compass and an unreliable guide.

27. Why deny Evolution now that Science accepts it?

Even for Science, Evolution is as yet no more than an acceptable but unproved hypothesis. Catholics are quite free to believe in Evolution as a theory of how the various forms of life appeared on the Earth, provided that they also believe that (a) God created the elements of evolution; (b.) all human beings are descended from the same first two human beings; (c) God creates each human soul individually and directly.

28. No-one really believes in fairies and angels.

The Gospels, which are accepted as authentic history, record several appearances of angels. An angel appeared to the Virgin Mary to ask her consent to become the mother of Christ; an angel appeared to Christ in the Garden of Olives to comfort Him in His distress before He was led off for His trial before Pilate. The true scientific attitude requires us to accept reliably recorded data, not to attempt to explain it away to satisfy pre-judgements.

29. Would God have created men out of love and then spitefully inflict unending punishment on them for offending Him?

Men are given a clear choice between eternal happiness for showing their love for God by obeying His will and eternal punishment for flouting God’s will. God certainly created men to love Him; if they refuse to do so eternal punishment is their own choice.

30. Protestants don’t believe in Purgatory because it’s not mentioned in the Bible.

Protestants believe in atoms, but they are not mentioned in the Bible; nor has anyone ever seen an atom. We know of the existence of atoms from reasoning; we know of the existence of Purgatory from reasoning. Those who die with their minds set in defiance of God’s will must go to Hell: “nothing defiled can enter Heaven.” The mercy of God will save those with lesser defects from eternal punishment; the justice of God will prevent those with lesser, defects from immediate entrance into Heaven. Reason tells us that there must be some intermediate place or state of purgation. In the Bible we find that “It is a holy and wholesome thought to pray for the dead that they may be loosed from their sins” (2 Mach. xii, 48). It would be useless to pray for the souls in Hell, and superfluous to pray for the souls in Heaven. Without actually using the word “Purgatory” these words from the Bible clearly indicate the existence of a place or state of purgation.

31. Prayer doesn’t appeal to me at all. It’s an unnatural kind of business.

Prayer is praising God, thanking Him, asking Him for favours, and telling Him that we are sorry for having offended Him. There’s nothing unnatural about telling an architect that you admire his latest building that has gone up; there’s nothing unnatural about telling God that you admire the world He has created. No-one would be surprised to hear a member of a family thank the mother for the Christmas dinner she has prepared; no-one should be surprised to know that some people thank God for special gifts they have received.

32 . Why pray to saints when we can pray straight to God for what we need?

In a business organization where the manager is more than ordinarily concerned for the welfare of his employees it is still helpful for special favours to have influence through a friend of the manager. The saints have proved their loyalty to God, but we are still on trial; seeing that the Church tells us that they are willing to handle our petitions for us, we would do ourselves less than justice to by-pass their ready patronage.

33. Catholics worship Christ’s mother as if she were a goddess.

There is no such being as a goddess. To honour a man’s mother because she is his mother is a sure way of honouring him. Moreover, the Catholic Church, with her authority to interpret the Bible, tells us that Christ’s dying wor ds, “Behold thy mother,” mean that we are all to regard Mary as our spiritual mother. It would be an unworthy son who did not pay great respect to his mother.

34. Primitive tribes have mumbo-jumbo; Catholics have weird ceremonies that they call sacraments.

The mumbo-jumbo of primitive tribes is non-effective. The sacraments were instituted by Christ as the most effective actions to be performed by man. The actions and the words merely indicate symbolically what is happening to the soul and when it is happening. The real effects on the soul are vouched for by the words of Christ in the Gospels.

35. Baptism can’t do much good for a baby that’s too young to know what’s going on.

The food a baby receives before it’s old enough to know what’s going on certainly does it plenty of good; so does Baptism, which brings the soul into favour with God and makes it eligible for entrance into Heaven.

36. If Christ was as definite about the Mass as Catholics claim He was, surely Protestants would have enough sense to realize it.

Much bitterness was stirred up during the Reformation so that Protestants threw overboard anything that was distinctly Catholic. The Mass went, and Protestant versions of the Gospels omitted or distorted references to the Eucharist.

37. The Eucharist is a repulsive idea, to say the least of it.

The Jews, too, thought that the idea of the Eucharist was a repulsive idea when Christ first promised to give them His flesh to eat and His blood to drink. There may have been some excuse for the Jews, because Christ hadn’t made clear the attractive way in which He would fulfil His promise. Those who still doubt His word will be free to turn their backs on Him as the Jews did and, like the Jews, they will not be recalled.

38. Confession is a slick trick the Catholic Church has invented to make sin easy for Catholics.

Confession was instituted by Christ when He said,”Whose sins you shall forgive, they are forgiven.” Confession doesn’t make sinning easier; it makes it harder because a Catholic knows that it is quite useless to confess a sin unless he has determined not to commit that sin again.

39. Why go to Confession? Why not simply tell God that you are sorry, and leave it at that?

Sincere sorrow for sin is quite necessary to restore friendship with God. However God, not man, has indicated that Confession is also necessary to strengthen the soul: i.e. sincere sorrow implies for the Catholic need to go to Confession.

40. Priests are parasites in society.

Admittedly, it is not the function of a priest to contribute directly to the material welfare of society. A priest’s function is to attend to the spiritual and moral welfare of society. To perform that most important function he undergoes a long and arduous professional training. His professional work is very much like that of a lawyer in that he interprets the law of God for people, whereas the lawyer interprets the law of the State. Nevertheless, a priest’s primary function is to offer sacrifice, the principal duty of society towards the Creator. A man can scarcely be called a parasite in society when he is performing, on behalf of society, society’s most important duty.

41. Luther objected to such Catholic abuses as selling indulgences to rich people who wanted to commit sin.

An indulgence is not a permission to commit sin, and was never so regarded by the Church. The Church has always taught that after we have had a sin forgiven we must do good works to make up for it. Otherwise we would have to suffer a time in purgatory after we die. Christ said of the Church:”Whatsoever you shall loose upon Earth shall be loosed also in Heaven.” So the Church takes Christ at His word and releases its members from some suffering to be expected in Purgatory; as an assurance of goodwill the Church asks that certain good works be done to gain the indulgences. Almsgiving used to be one of the good works for which indulgences might be gained; as this was open to abuse, indulgences are not now given for alms. Luther recognized the possibility of such abuse but, instead of attacking the abuse as such, attacked the principle of indulgences. The Church had no alternative but to condemn Luther for denying the obvious meaning of Christ’s words. As has been said, when Luther saw the bath-water was dirty he threw out the baby as well.

42. Who wants to go to Heaven with a lot of pious cranks and sit on a cloud, dressed in a night-shirt, playing a harp, for all eternity?

Humour depends largely on symbols and incongruity. The cartoonists have found Heaven to be a happy hunting ground. Sacred artists have used the cloud as a symbol of far-away, the long white robe as a symbol of innocence, and the harp as a symbol of aesthetic pleasure; none of which ideas are in themselves funny; but, surround a drunk with these symbols and you have incongruity, and humour of a sort. In fact, we have no idea of what Heaven is really like. St. Paul’s words,”Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, nor hath it entered into the heart of man to conceive the joys God has in store for those that love him” are sufficient guarantee that no-one who gets to Heaven will be disappointed.

43. The Catholic Church has the impertinence to say that someone is in Heaven, to call him”Saint Anthony,” and then to give him the job of looking after lost property.

The Church is divinely guided in judging whether a person has merited Heaven by living according to Christ’s teachings. If from widespread reports made to the Church’s extensive spiritual intelligence service it is found that numerous requests made to a particular saint to intercede with God for a particular class of favours are usually answered it is fairly presumed that God Himself expects that such requests be presented to Him through that particular saint. Saint Joseph protects the interests of the working man, St. Gerard Majella protects mothers-to-be, St. Christopher protects travellers.

44. No matter what you do to water you can’t make it holy.

The Olympic flame is materially no different from other similar flames, but it is honoured because it has been lit at a special place by special people. Holy water is water that has been blessed by a special person, a priest, at a special place, a church. As the Olympic flame serves as a reminder of the spirit of the Games, so Holy water serves as a reminder of the supernatural life which we received in Baptism.

45. You must admit that Catholics look ridiculous when they bob down in the church.

The word”genuflection” means “a bending of the knee.” In feudal times a knight genuflected before his king as a mark of loyalty. The genuflection before the tabernacle in a Catholic church is a mark of loyalty to the King of kings within the tabernacle.

46. Civilized people should be beyond wearing the charms that Catholics call”medals.”

Many a man went to the war carrying a picture of his mother or of his wife in his wallet. She would know it was there as a sign of his love for her. Many a man, too, carried a medal with a representation of his Heavenly Mother for the same reason. However, his Earthly mother could not protect him; his Heavenly Mother could.

47. God has said”Thou shalt not carve images,” and yet there are so many statues in Catholic churches.

A careful reading of the Book of Exodus will show what God really forbade was the making of images to be adored. In the same Book of Exodus we also read that God ordered images of the angels to be made. Statues of famous men do honour to those men; statues of Christ and his saints honour them and remind us of them.

48. Catholics are kept poor paying for expensive churches.

Catholics know from the Bible that God wishes the churches to be as worthy as possible of their sacred function. What Catholics give for that purpose they give voluntarily. Catholics who are poor owe their poverty to the social system in which they live, to their own meagre talents, or to some other reason beyond the direct control of the Catholic Church.

49. Why are Catholic countries usually poor and illiterate?

Comparisons of national wealth or literacy cannot be fairly made independently of statistics. Moreover, the distribution of national wealth may be as important as the aggregate of national wealth. Even though Italy, Ireland and Spain, by coincidence being not only Catholic countries but also lacking in natural resources of coal and iron, are not recognized as wealthy nations, they are free of the economic tensions that plague England and the United States. The most remarkably successful economic organization of our time, the European Economic Community, is predominantly Catholic. Ireland, one of the best-fed nations in the world, according to United Nations statistics, is economically self-sufficient.

Literacy is largely dependent upon economic factors and the allegations of illiteracy in Catholic countries are as untrue as the allegations of poverty.

50. Catholic Action is the Church’s way of interfering in politics.

Catholic Action must be distinguished from the political action of Catholics. This is no mere quibble. Catholic Action is a systematic organization, under the direction of the Bishops, with the object of encouraging Catholic moral attitudes in everyday life. Catholic Action is a world-wide spiritual activity. The political action of Catholics is part of their own right and responsibility; such action, of its nature, is local. Every Catholic knows that a Bishop has full spiritual jurisdiction but no political jurisdiction.

51. The Inquisition is a clear example of the danger of allowing the Catholic Church any part in politics.

The period of history in which the Inquisition functioned was a period of violent religious antipathies, a period in which Luther aroused the Peasants’ War, Henry VIII beheaded Sir Thomas More, and the Pilgrim Fathers fled to America. Just as the State gaolers would torture loyal Catholics while Anglican divines questioned them to try to prove their treasonous support of Phillip of Spain, so theologians in Spain were employed by the State to question suspected enemies of the State.

52. Catholics are forbidden to read books which would tell them the real truth about the Catholic Church.

Catholics are forbidden to read books which tell lies about the Catholic Church; they are also forbidden to read books which are morally harmful. Relatively few men are competent by reason of their scholarship in theology or history to detect all forms of error; therefore the Church relies on a body of experts to publish what is called the Index of Forbidden Books and to explain why certain books have been placed on the Index. There are only about a hundred books specifically included on the Index; even these may be read, with permission, by Catholics of sufficient scholarship if they can give good reason for doing so.

53. The Jesuits are the secret agents of the Catholic Church. Even the Pope had to suppress them to save his face.

The Jesuits are members of a religious order and are renowned for their scholarship and outspoken attitude against anything harmful to the Catholic Church. In the eighteenth century too much wealth had weakened the moral fibre of many Catholic rulers. When the Jesuits persisted in using the prestige of their scholarship to protest against the moral abuses of the rulers, the ruler slandered the Jesuits to the Pope. The Pope ignored the slanders. Then the rulers threatened retaliation against the Church in their countries. As the threats mounted, Pope Clement XIV issued a decree of suppression in 1773. There was no face-saving involved and when, a few years later, the European political situation was changed by the French Revolution, Pope Pius VII restored the Jesuits in 1814.

54. Shutting women up in convents is a peculiar way of carrying out Christ’s teaching.

Nuns are not shut in convents: the general public is shut out. Nuns are women who have freely chosen to withdraw from ordinary walks of life so that they may give their lives wholly to the service of God. Of course, they must either come in and stay in or go out and stay out. They are as entitled to the privacy of their home as much as are other citizens in the community. justification and strong encouragement for their vows of poverty, chastity and obedience are to be found in the New Testament, no matter what the impertinent objections of irreligious outsiders may be.

55. Catholics try to show their superiority over non-Catholics by having special schools for their children.

Anyone who has read the standard works on the Philosophy of Education or who has done a university course in Education is well aware that Religion is recognized as an essential part of education. Because Catholics are dissatisfied with the place given to Religion in the State schools of Australia they have paid the enormous price of their convictions by maintaining a school system of their own. Catholics recognize the State’s difficulty in providing adequate religious training within a uniform school system for children of different faiths; nevertheless, they cannot in conscience submit their children to that inadequacy.

56. Birth Control is the only answer to having too many children in poor countries and poor families.

The economically backward countries of the world are suffering from mismanagement: agricultural, industrial and distributive. There are vast areas of India badly cultivated or not cultivated at all. Millions of poverty-stricken inhabitants huddle around the cities of South America while much of the continent is rich jungle. Tampering with the natural law is the answer only for those who wish to shirk their family responsibilities and seek to justify themselves by persuading others to follow their example.

57. Too many husbands and wives find out too late that they are mismatched. Divorce is the only way out.

Too many people marry for the wrong reasons and realize their mistake too late. To base a marriage on mere physical attraction or on money is to ask for trouble. The principal intention of a Christian marriage is that the husband and the wife should wish to help one another and their children to get to Heaven. Any incompatibility of temperament, habits, interests or religion should be well considered beforehand; mutual generosity and forebearance will ensure loyalty later.

58. The Catholic Church causes much unnecessary ill-feeling by her attitude towards mixed marriages.

The closeness, the permanency and the sacredness of the marriage bond demand that the Church should exert the strongest influence to ensure its endurance. Mixed marriages have so often been a danger not only to the harmony of family life but also to the faith of the Catholic partner and the children that the Church suffers patiently the ill-feeling of the thoughtless for the sake of the spiritual welfare of its members.

59. Why is the Catholic Church so unreasonable as to forbid its members to join a friendly society like the Freemasons?

Many Freemasons are under the erroneous impression that their society is no more than one which has the purpose of safeguarding its members’ common interests. As such, the Freemasons are often guilty of injustice by ensuring that their own members gain positions of employment rather than other claimants with better records of ability. However, Freemasonry is essentially a form of Deism, a religion which regards God as having no direct interest in the personal welfare of individual men, a belief which is contrary to the Catholic concept of God. Accordingly, Catholics are warned that to become a Freemason is to cease to be a Catholic.

60. All the bad Catholics, even bad Popes, are argument enough against the Catholic Church.

A study of the moral doctrines of the Catholic Church would show that their fulfilment would ensure the living of a noble life. But man has freewill to reject the Church’s moral guidance, even though he may be fully aware of the eternal consequences of such rejection. It would be impossible to show that any bad Catholic, even a bad Pope, had lived in accordance with the Catholic Church’s teaching.

Now that you have read this pamphlet you are aware of some of the questions that non-Catholics ask and you know some of the answers. Nevertheless, you should read further, especially Rev. Dr. Rumble’s Radio Replies, Archbishop Sheehan’s Catholic Apologetics, Frank Sheed’s Theology and Sanity, and Philip Hughes’s A Popular History of the Catholic Church; it would be well, too, to read the Australian . . . ’s set of pamphlets on the beliefs of the various non-Catholic denominations. Always show respect for non-Catholic’s sincerity in their own religious beliefs and be ready at all times to show them practical kindness when the opportunity offers.

Nihil Obstat:

BERNARD O’CONNOR, Diocesan Censor.

Imprimatur:

@ DANIEL MANNIX,

Archiepiscopus Melburnensis 22nd October, 1962

********

The Real Presence I

EUCHARISTIC MEDITATIONS BY ST. PETER JULIAN EYMARD

INDEX

THE EUCHARISTIC VEIL

Cur faeiem tuam abscondis?

WHY HIDEST THOU THY FACE? (JOB XIII 24)

I

WHY is our Lord veiled beneath the Sacred Species in the Most Blessed Sacrament?

It is difficult to get accustomed to this hidden state of our Lord. We must frequently insist upon this truth; for we must believe firmly and practically that although Our Lord Jesus Christ is veiled, He is really and substantially present in the

Holy Eucharist.

But why this silent presence, this impenetrable veil? We are often tempted to say:

“Lord, show us Thy face!”

Our Lord makes us feel His power; He draws us to Himself; He keeps us respectful; but we do not see Him. And it would be so sweet, so good to hear words from our Lord’s lips!

What a consolation for us were He to show Himself!” What an assurance of being His friend! For He would supposedly show Himself only to those He loves.

II

WELL, Our Lord is more lovable when hidden than if He were to show Himself. He is more eloquent when silent than if He were to speak. And what we look upon as a punishment is an effect of His love and good ness.

Yes, if He were to show Himself as He is, we would be unhappy; the contrast of His virtues, of His glory would humiliate us. We would say: “What! A Father so good, with children so miserable!” We would not dare approach Him or show ourselves. Now that we know only His kindness, we come at least without fear.

And everybody comes to Him. Let us suppose that our Lord were to manifest Himself to the good only,-for since His Resurrection He cannot reveal Himself to sinners-who would dare rank himself among the good? Who would not dread coming to church lest Jesus Christ, on not finding him good enough, would not manifest Himself to him? People would grow envious of one another. The proud alone would dare think enough of themselves to come to our Lord.

Whereas under the present order of things everyone has equal rights and can take it for granted that he is loved.

III

BUT perhaps the sight of our Lord’s glory would convert us?

No, no! We cannot convert people by dazzling them. The Jews became idolaters at the foot of a flaming Sinai; the

Apostles talked nonsense on Mount Thabor.

We would be either frightened or e lated by our Lord’s glory, but not converted. The Jewish people were afraid to come near Moses after his face shone with divine light. “No, Lord, please remain hidden; that is better for us. I can thus draw near to Thee and at least hope that Thou lovest me since Thou drivest me not away.”

But would not the great power of His words convert us?

The Jews heard our Lord for three years; were they converted? A. mere handful of them. The human words of our Lord, those that strike the ear, will not convert us; the words of His grace will. Now, Our Lord in The Blessed Sacrament speaks to our heart, and that ought to be enough for us, for His words are real.

BUT if I could at least experience our Lords love, some of its ardent flames, I would love Him much more; they would transform my heart and set it ablaze with love!

We mistake feeling for love.

When we ask our Lord “to make us love Him, we expect Him to make us feel that we love Him.

Things would come to a sorry pass were He to listen to us. No! Love means sacrifice, the gift of our will and submission to that of God.

The virtue of strength is the fruit of Eucharistic contemplation and of Communion,- which is perfect union with Jesus. The sweetness of it is short-lived; strength alone endures. And what are we in need of against ourselves and the world if not strength? Strength brings us peace.

Do you not feel at peace in the presence of Our Lord? That proves that you love Him. What more do you want?

When two friends get together, they spend their time looking at each other and in telling their love for each other. They are wasting their time; for their affection is not thereby increased. But separate them for a while; they will think of each other and recall each other’s face; they long for each other.

The same is true of our Lord. What did the Apostles do during the three years they lived with Him?

He has hidden Himself in order to have us ponder over His goodness and His virtues; in order that our love might become serious, disengaged from the senses, content with the strength and peace of God.

LET us sum up what we have said. Our Saviour is really present beneath the veils of the Sacrament, but He denies us the view of His body so as to have us abide in His love, in His adorable personality. If He were to show Himself, or even a single ray of” His glory, one trait of His adorable countenance, we would forget Him and abide in that manifestation of Himself, But He has told us His body is not our end; it is hut a step to help us reach first His soul and then His divinity through His soul. We have His love to guide us thither.

The strength of our love will bring complete certitude to our faith. The senses having been reduced to silence, our soul will enter into communion with Jesus Christ; and since Jesus is happiness, repose, and joy, the more intimately we commune with Him, the happier we shall be.

THE MYSTERY OF FAITH

Hoc est opus Dei ut credatis in Eum.

This is the work of God, that you believe in Him. (John vi. 29.)

I

OUR Lord wants us to remember all He did for us on earth, and to honour His presence in the Most Blessed Sacrament by meditating on all the mysteries of His life.

To make the mystery of the Last Supper more vividly present to us, He was not content with giving us the Gospel narrative; He left us a living, personal reminder: His very Self, His adorable Person.

Although our Lord is in our midst, we cannot see Him, nor can we picture to ourselves the manner of His presence in the Eucharist.

Our Eucharistic Lord, however, has frequently appeared. Why did He not permit pictures of these august apparitions to be preserved?

Ah! Our Lord is well aware that pictures would only result in drawing us away from the reality of His actual presence under the sacred veils of the Eucharist.

But if I could see, would I not have more faith? Do we not love better what we see?

Yes, the senses may confirm my wavering faith. But our risen Lord does not want our perverted senses to reach Him; He demands pure faith.

He has not only a body but a soul as well. He does not want to be loved as bodies are loved; He wants us to go straight to His Soul with our minds and our hearts, without using our senses to discover Him.

For that matter, although our Lord is truly resent in the Blessed Sacrament in body and in soul, He abides therein after the manner of spirits. Spirits cannot be analysed or dissected; neither can they be reached with the senses.

II

BESIDES, why should we complain? Our Lord has arranged everything harmoniously. The Sacred Species do not touch Him, nor do they form part of Him. They are however, inseparably united to the sacramental Christ. They are, as it were, the terms of His presence. They tell us where He is. They localize Him. Our Lord could have taken a purely spiritual manner of existence; but then, how could we find Him? Where could we look for Him?

Let us thank this good Saviour! He is not hidden, but only veiled. A hidden object practically does not exist for us; we do not know where it is. But we can possess a veiled object; we are sure of it even though we do not see it.

Does it not already mean a great deal to us to know that our friend is at our side, that he is really there? Well, you can see where our Lord is. Look at the Sacred Host; you are sure He is there.

III

OUR Lord veils Himself for our good and our advantage, to force us to study His soul, His intentions, and His virtues in Himself. If we saw Him, we would be satisfied to admire His appearance, we would have for Him only sentimental love; our Lord wants us to love Him with a love of sacrifice. It is hard for our Lord thus to veil Himself. He would prefer to show His divine countenance which drew so many hearts to Him in His mortal life; but He veils it for our good.

Our mind is thus forced to study the Eucharist; our faith is spurred on; we acquire a deeper understanding of Our Lord. Instead of showing Himself to our eyes, He shows Himself to our soul. Through His own light He notifies us of His presence in us. He is both the light and the object we must contemplate in that light; He is the object and the means of our faith.

The clearness of one’s insight into the Eucharist is proportioned to one’s greater or le sser love and purity of life. Our Lord said so: “He that loveth Me, shall be loved of My Father: and I will love him, and manifest myself to him.”

Our Lord gives to souls of prayer a deep understanding of Himself; He never deceives them.

He varies His grace of light. He directs it now to one point of His life, now to another. And since the Eucharist is the glorification of all the mysteries, Jesus Christ becomes Himself the object of our meditation, no matter what its topic may be.

IV

HOW much easier it is, consequently, to meditate before the Blessed Sacrament than at home!

At home we are in the presence of the immensity of God; here, we are in the presence of our Lord, Who is very close to us.

And since the heart follows the mind, since affection follows knowledge, it becomes easier to love in the presence of the Most Blessed Sacrament. Love is then actual, since it has for its object Jesus living before us and renewing all His mysteries in the Eucharist.

He that meditates on the mysteries in themselves without giving them life through the Eucharist always feels that something is missing, and he harbours a regret in spite of himself. “Oh, that I had been there!” he says to himself.

But in the presence of the Most Blessed Sacrament, what is there to regret, to desire? All the mysteries live anew through the Saviour’s presence. Our love actually enjoys Him. Whether you are thinking of the mortal life of Jesus or of His risen life, you know that Jesus Christ is there with His body, His soul, and His divinity.

Let us therefore put these ideas into practice. No matter what mysteries are represented in our imagination, let us strengthen and quicken the remembrance of them through the presence of Jesus Christ.

Let us then remember that our Lord is in the Host in all His different states, and in His entirety. He who does not realise that lives in darkness; his faith is always weak and fails to make him happy.

Let our faith be active and thoughtful; that is what will make us happy. Our Lord wants to bring us happiness all by Himself. No man can make us happy; even piety cannot do it of itself. We need a piety that has fed on the Eucharist; for happiness comes only from the possession of God, and in the Eucharist we own God.

THE LOVE OF JESUS IN THE EUCHARIST NOS CREDIDIMUS CARITATI QUAM HABET DEUS IN NOBIS. WE HAVE BELIEVED THE CHARITY, WHICH GOD HATH TO US. (1 JOHN IV. 16.)

WE believe in the love of God for us. That is a profound saying.

Belief in the truth of the words of God is required of every Christian; but there is another belief, which is more perfect and is the crown of the first: belief in divine love.

Belief in the divine truths will be vain if it does not lead to belief in divine love.

What is this love in which we must believe?

It is the love of Jesus Christ; the love, which He manifests to us in the Eucharist, a love that is Himself, a living and infinite love.

They who are satisfied with believing in the truth of the Eucharist, love not at all, or very little.

But what proofs of His love does our Lord give us in the Eucharist?

I

F IRST of all we have His word, His veracity.

Jesus tells us that He loves us, that He instituted His Sacrament only out of love for us. Therefore, it is true. We believe an honest man on his word. Why should we not trust our Lord as much?

When someone wants to give his friend a proof of his love, he tells him personally that loves him and he gives him an affectionate handshake.

Well, Our Lord sends neither angels nor ministers to assure us of His love; He comes in person. Love will have no gobetween.

And so He perpetuates Himself only to tell us over and over again: “I love you. You see that I love you!”

Our Lord was so afraid we might forget Him that He took up His abode among us. He made His home with us so that we might not be able to think of Him without thinking of His love. By giving Himself thus and insisting on. this gift, He hoped not to be forgotten. Whoever gives serious thought to the Eucharist, and especially whoever partakes of it, cannot help feeling that our Lord loves him, He feels that in Him he has a father. He feels that he is loved as a child and that he has a right to come to his Father and speak to Him. In church, at the foot of the tabernacle, he is in his Father’s home; he feels that he is.

Ah! I understand why people like to live near a church, in the shadow of their Father’s house!

And so, Jesus in the Most Blessed Sacrament tells us that He loves us; He tells us interiorly and makes us feel it. Let us believe in His love.

II

DOES He love me personally?

To this there is but one answer; do we belong to the Christian family? In a family, do not the father and the mother love each one of their children with an equal love? And if there were any preferences, would they not be for the weakest and frailest child?

Our Lord’s sentiments toward us are at least those of a good father; why deny Him this quality?

Besides, see how our Lord manifests His personal love for each one of us. Every morning He comes to see each one of His children in particular, to converse with them, to visit them, to embrace them. Although He has repeated this so many times, He is as gracious and as loving at His last visit as He was at the first. He is as young as ever and is not tired of loving us and giving Himself to each one of us.

Does He not give Himself whole and entire to each one? And if a greater number come to receive Him, does He divide Himself up? Does He give less to each one?

If the church is full of adorers, can they not all pray to Jesus and converse with Him?

Is not each one listened to and his prayer granted as if he were the only one in church?

Such is the personal love of Jesus for us. Each one may take it all for himself and wrong no one; the sun gives all its light to each and everyone of us; the ocean belongs whole and entire to each and every fish. Jesus is greater than us all. He is inexhaustible.

III

THE persistency of the love of Jesus in the Most Blessed Sacrament is another undeniable proof that He loves us. An almost incalculable number of Masses are celebrated every day; they follow one another almost without interruption. But how distressing it is for an understanding soul to realise that very often no one is present to hear or assist at these Masses, in which Jesus offers Himself up for us! While Jesus is crying mercy on this new Calvary, sinners are insulting God and His Christ.

Why then does our Lord renew His sacrifice so often, since men do not profit by it?

Why does our Lord remain day and night on so many altars to which no one comes to receive the graces He is offering so lavishly?

He loves, He hopes, and He waits!

If He came down on our altars on certain days only, some sinner, on being moved to repentances might have to look for Him and, not finding Him, have to wait. Our Lord prefers to wait himself for the sinner for years rather than keep him waiting one instant; having to wait would perhaps discourage the sinner in his attempt to break with the slavery of sin.

Oh! How few reflect that Jesus loves them that much in The Most Blessed Sacrament!

And yet all these things are true! We have no faith in the love of Jesus! Would we treat a friend, or any man at all, as we do Our Lord?

THE EUCHARIST, THE CENTRE OF OUR LOVE MANETE IN ME

Abide in Me. (John xv,. 4.)

I

THE heart of man needs a centre of affection and expansion. As a matter of fact, when God created the first man He said:

“It is not good for man to be alone; let Us make him a help like unto himself.”

And the Imitation also says: “Without a friend thou canst not well live.”

Well, Our Lord in the Most Blessed Sacrament wants to be the centre of all hearts, and He tells us: “Abide in Me . . . Abide in My love.”

What does abiding in our Lord’s love mean? To abide in His love is to make His Eucharistic love the centre of our life, the only source of our consolation; it is to cast ourselves into the Heart of Jesus in our afflictions, in our sorrows, in our deceptions, in the circumstances in which the heart unbosoms itself more spontaneously. He invites us to do so.

“Come to Me, all you that labour and are burdened, and I will refresh you.”

To abide in His love is, in time of joy, to refer our happiness to Him; for delicacy of friendship wants a friend with whom to share its joys.

To abide in His love is to make the Eucharist the centre of our desires: “Lord, I desire this only if Thou desirest it. I will do this to please Thee.”

To abide in His love is to delight in surprising Him with some gift, or some little sacrifice.

To abide in His love is to live by the Eucharist; to guide ourselves in our actions by His thought, and to make it a point unswervingly to prefer the good service of the Eucharist to everything else.

Alas! Is Jesus Eucharistic really our centre?

Perhaps in time of extraordinary difficulties, or of very fervent prayer, or of urgent need; but in everyday life, do we think, do we reflect, do we act in Jesus as in our centre?

II

WHY is our Lord not my centre?

Because He is not yet the ego of my ego; because I am not completely under His control, under the inspiration of His will; because I have desires that are vying with the desires of Jesus within me; because He does not mean everything to me. And yet a child works for his parents, an angel for his God; I ought therefore to work for my Master, Jesus Christ.

What am I to do? I must enter into this centre, abide in it, and act in it, not indeed by the sentiment of His sweetness, which does not depend on me, but by repeated attempts, by the homage of every action. Come, () my soul! Leave the world; come but of thyself; renounce thyself; and go to the God of the Eucharist. He has an abode in which to receive thee; He longs for thee; He wants to live with thee, to live in thee. Abide therefore in Jesus present in thy heart, live in thy heart; live in the goodness of Jesus Eucharistic.

O my soul, study our Lord in thee, and do nothing but by Him.

Abide in our Lord. Abide in Him through A sense of devotedness, of holy joy, of readiness to do whatever He will ask of thee. “Abide in the Heart and the peace of Jesus Eucharistic.

III

W HAT impresses me is that this centre of the Eucharist is hidden, invisible, altogether interior, and, for all that, most real, living, and sustaining.

Jesus draws the soul spiritually into the wholly spiritualised state that is His in the Sacrament.

What, in fact, is the nature of the life of Jesus in the Most Blessed Sacrament? It is entirely hidden, all interior.

He conceals therein His power and kindness; He conceals His divine Person.

And all His actions and virtues take on this simple and hidden character.

He requires silence around Him. He no longer prays to His Father “with a strong cry and tears” as in the Garden of Olives, but through His self-abasement.

All graces come from the Host. From His Eucharist Jesus sanctifies the world, but in an invisible and spiritual manner.

He rules the world and the Church without either moving or speaking.

Such must the kingdom of Jesus be in me, all interior. I must gather myself up around Jesus: my faculties, my understanding, and my will; and my senses, as far as possible. I must live of Jesus and not of myself, in Jesus and not in myself. I must pray with Him, immolate myself with Him, and be consumed in the same love with Him. I must become in Him one flame, one heart, one life with Him.

What nourishes this centre is something similar to God’s call to Abraham: egredere (Go forth out of thy country); it is the renouncing and abandoning of outside things; the turning to those within and the losing of oneself in Jesus. This manner of life is more pleasing to His Heart and gives greater glory to His Father; that is why our Lord desires it ardently. He tells us: “Come out of thyself and follow Me into solitude where, alone with thee, I will speak to thy heart.”

This life in Jesus is nothing other than the love of predilection, the gift of self, the intensifying of union with Him; through it we take root, as it were, and prepare the nourishment, the sap of the tree. Regnum Dei intra vos est.”The kingdom of God is within you.”

IV

THERE is no centre other than Jesus, and Jesus Eucharistic.

He tells us: “Without Me you can do nothing.” He alone gives grace. He reserves to Himself the distribution of it in order to oblige us to come to Him and ask Him for it.

He wants thus to establish and foster union with us. He reserves to Himself the right of giving consolation and peace, so that in sorrows and combats we may have recourse to Him. He wants to be the heart’s only happiness. He has placed this centre of repose in none other than himself: Manete in Me. And lest we should ever miss Him when we come to Him, He remains always at our service, always ready, always lovable.

He is continually drawing us to Himself. The life of love is nothing other than this continual attraction of us to Him. Alas! I am so little established in this centre of love! My aspirations to Jesus are still so imperfect, so rare, and so interrupted, often for long hours at a time! And yet Jesus tells us repeatedly: “He that eateth My Flesh, and drinketh My Blood abideth in Me, and I in him.”

GOD IS THERE!

Vere Dominus est in loco isto, et ego nesciebam! Indeed the Lord is in this place, and I knew it not!

(Genesis xxviii. 16.)

I

In order to form a fair judgment of a family, we must see whether the law of respect is observed. When you meet with a family in which the children and servants are obedient and respectful, you can say:

“Here is a good and happy family.”

The respect and honour given to parents is the religion of the family, just as respect for the sovereign or his representatives is the religion of societies

We are not asked to honour the qualities of the individual, but his authority, which comes from God.

We owe respect to Our Lord; that is our first duty. Under pain of failing in our duties towards Our Lord, we must have for him a spontaneous respect, a respect of instinct that should require no premeditation.

It must be in the nature of an impression in us. We must honour our Lord wherever He is; His dignity as God-Man requires it. In His name every knee bows in heaven, on earth, and in hell.

In heaven, the angels prostrate themselves before His Majesty in trembling adoration; the place of our Lord’s glory is also the place where He receives sovereign respect.

Every creature on earth has obeyed our Lord. The sea adored Him by becoming solid beneath His feet. The sun and the heavenly bodies mourned Him; they honoured Him while men were cursing Him.

And in hell the damned tremble beneath the justice of the severe Judge of the living and the dead.

II

RESPECT for the presence of Our Lord should not have to be reasoned out. When the court or the King is announced, all stand; it is instinctive.

When the Sovereign goes by, everyone pays him reverence. A spontaneous movement of respect and deference greet him everywhere. He who is no longer of that sentiment or who wishes to destroy it in others is no longer a man.

Catholics have much reason to blush for theirlack of respect in our Lord’s presence. I am speaking only of spontaneous respect.

Enter a synagogue; if you speak or do not behave properly, you are expelled.

Before entering a mosque, you are requested to take off your shoes. All these infidels have nothing real in their temples, but we have everything. In spite of that, their respect far surpasses ours.

Our Lord might very well say the devil is honoured more than He is. “I have brought up children . . . but they have despised Me.”

I ask mothers whether they would be pleased to be disowned publicly by their children. Why do we do to our Lord what would offend us so much if it were done to us? Why are we less sensitive when our Lord’s honour is at stake than when our own petty dignity is?

Nothing could be more false. Our dignity, in fact, comes to us from no one but God, by reflection from Him to us. When, therefore, we allow respect for our Lord to be lost, we destroy the respect due to our own selves.

Oh! If our Lord were to punish us for our lack of respect as we deserve!

God had Heliodorus scourged for profaning His temple; but there is more than the temple here.

Let us, therefore, give our Lord this first homage of a sentiment of respect as soon as we come into His presence. We are but wretches if we allow levity or carelessness to precede this homage.

Yes, our greatest sins against faith come from our lack of respect.

III

He who believes knows where he is going when he goes to church: he is going to Our Lord Jesus Christ. On entering the church, he says to all his occupations, like Saint Bernard: “Stay here at the door. I feel the need of seeking comfort and strength from God.”

Act in the same manner. You know how much time you are to spend in church, forget everything else. If you come to pray, you do not come to transact business. And if you are pestered with distractions and worries, turn them all out of doors without getting troubled over them. Persevere in prayer and make acts of reparation and of respect. Take a better posture, and let Our Lord see that you detest your distractions. By your respectful attitude, if not by the attention of your mind, you are still proclaiming His divinity, His presence; were you to do only that, you would be doing a great deal.

Watch a saint enter a church. He goes in without concerning himself with those who are already there. He concentrates on our Lord and forgets everything else. In the presence of the Pope we hardly give a thought to cardinals and bishops. And in heaven the saints do not idle away their time honouring one another; to God alone they give all honour and glory. Let- us imitate them; our Lord is the only one in church.

Remain quiet for a moment after you have come into church; silence is the greatest mark of respect, and the first disposition for prayer is respect. Most of our dryness and lack of devotion in prayer is due to our lack of respect for Our Lord on entering the church; to our disrespectful posture.

Let us therefore take the firm resolution to foster in ourselves this instinctive respect; we do not have to appeal to reason for that. Must our Lord prove His presence to us every time we enter the church? Must He always send us an angel to tell us that He is there?

It certainly would be most unfortunate if He did, but, alas! quite necessary.

IV

YOU owe our Lord exterior respect, which is the prayer of the body. Nothing helps so much the prayer of the soul. See with what religious care the Church has regulated the minutest details of exterior worship. It must then be that this prayer gives great glory to Jesus Christ. He gave us the example of exterior worship by praying on His knees; tradition tells us He prayed with arms outstretched in the form of a cross and lifted up to heaven. The Apostles have handed down to us this manner of praying; the priest uses it during the Holy Sacrifice.

Since our body has received its life from God and lives on the divine favours that are constantly showered upon it, does it not owe God something? We must then make it pray by giving it an attitude full of respect.

Careless postures of the body unnerve the soul, whereas a crucifying posture strengthens and helps her. You must not torment yourself by taking too uncomfortable a posture, but let it be stern enough. Postures that denote too much familiarity are out of place in the presence of God; they breed contempt. Love Our Lord; be tender and affectionate towards Him, but never exaggeratingly familiar. Dryness and lack of devotion in prayer are nearly always the result of disrespect in posture.

When you are travelling or when you are saying extra prayers at home, you may take a less uncomfortable posture, but in the presence of Our Lord you must also adore externally with your senses. Remember how strict God was on this point in the Old Law, and what a number of preparatory details the Levites had to go through. God wanted to make them feel their dependence on Him and prepare them to pray well.

Our piety is agonising because we lack this external respect. I know that we should not tremble with fear before God, nor be afraid to come into His presence; but, on the other hand, neither should we seem to be despising Him.

An austere posture helps us to pray better; we refuse this help in order to satisfy our sensuality. We imagine we are tired; how often our imagination deceives us! If the Pope were passing by, our imaginary fatigue would not prevent us from remaining on our knees. And even supposing that we are really tired, why be so afraid of suffering, which gives wings to prayer? We should at least have even then a becoming and grave posture. Let the lay people sit down if they are tired, but in a becoming manner; they should not slouch in their seats. Let them not take any position that would tend to weaken the soul’s energy and render it unfit for prayer. We religious; however, should remain on our knees; that is the correct posture for an adorer. If we grow tired, we should stand up; that, too, is a respectful posture. We should never sit down. Let us be soldiers of the God of the Eucharist. And if our heart is not burning with love, let our body at least bear witness to our faith and our desire to love and to do things properly.

Let our body therefore take the attitude of prayer, of adoration. Let us all form the court of our King Jesus: Keep the presence of the Master in your thoughts; impress your mind with the truth of it. Let all your attentions be for our Lord Jesus Christ! Vere Dominus est in loco isto. Truly, the Lord is here.

Imprimi Potest:

Alphonsus Pelletier, S.S.S., Provincialis.

Nihil Obstat:

Arthur J. Scanlan, S.T.D., Censor Librorum.

Imprimatur:

@ Patrick Cardinal Hayes,

Archbishop of New York.

May 21, 1938. ********

The Real Presence II

BY EUSTACE BOYLAN, S. J

INDEX

In this little work I do not aim at a theological exposition of the subject, nor at indicating the intricate metaphysical problems which are presented to the mind by this doctrine, and which are discussed in schools of theology. Nor do I propose, to any great extent, even to be argumentative. My idea is rather to be expository, to look at this great doctrine from the viewpoint of those who fully accept it, and to indicate in a popular manner its place in Catholic belief and its bearing on Catholic life.

Sincere and honest non-Catholics may, like some of the first disciples, find the doctrine of the Real Pr esence “a hard saying,” but I hope they, will at least be deeply interested in a doctrine which is of the greatest historical importance, a doctrine which is the very warp and woof of Catholic spiritual life, and to which true Catholics cling as tenaciously as to life itself. “No one,” says Mr. Hilaire Belloc, “can understand the Middle Ages unless he understands the Mass”; no one can understand Catholics at all unless he understands the doctrine of the Real Presence.

THE DOCTRINE STATED

Briefly, and in popular language, the doctrine of the Real Presence is this: that in the Sacrament of the Holy Eucharist Jesus Christ, in His entirety, is as really and truly present as He was twenty centuries ago in the stable of Bethlehem, or in His little home of Nazareth, or on the hill of Calvary. During the Mass, before the Consecration, there is bread and wine on the altar; but at the Consecration, when the sacred words are pronounced, “This is My Body, this is My Blood,” a profound and mysterious change takes place: there is no longer a particle of bread or a drop of wine; the accidents, or appearances, of bread and wine remain as before, but the entire reality underlying these appearances-that is, the substance of the bread and wine-has been replaced by the substance of the Body and Blood of Jesus Christ. Not that the Body and Blood are actually there in a state of separation, nor is there any mutilation of the Sacred Humanity; the living Sacred Humanity is present whole and entire, but in an altogether mysterious manner, both under the appearance of the bread and under the appearance of the wine. And the Sacred Presence remains as long as the appearances remain unchanged.

The Catholic, therefore, when he enters one of our churches or oratories where the glow of the red sanctuary lamp shows that the Blessed Sacrament is reserved in the tabernacle, bends the knee in adoration. He recognises Jesus Christ present on the altar as truly as He was present long ago in His little home at Nazareth.

Such, in a few words, and passing over the more technical statement of theology, is this tremendous doctrine. It is more wonderful than anything related in the fairy tales. Transubstantiation, or the replacement of the substance of the bread and wine by the Sacred Humanity of Jesus Christ, is a miracle beside which all other miracles shrivel away to shadows. It is a real test of faith. And though, like the Being of God Himself, it may be apprehended, it cannot be comprehended. It belongs to the fathomless mystery of the divine action. The feeble human mind may cast its plummet into the Infinite, but it can never sound those depths. But-and this is an important point- it can know that those depths exist.

GOD-GIVEN CONVICTION WITH GROUNDWORK IN REASON

Though, like other revealed mysteries, or like the unfathomable Being of God itself, the doctrine of the Real Presence cannot be measured by standards of the natural order, we Catholics have solid and unshaken grounds for our belief. An act of faith is not an act of simple credulity; it is a firm and reasonable conviction. It is a conviction which comes from God, and from which all prudent doubt is excluded. But, apart from the divinely-infused character of the gift of faith, there is a solid groundwork in reason which may be examined, analysed, and criticised. As my aim, however, is less argumentative than expository, I will confine myself to a brief reference to this rational groundwork, and I will mention, without developing, three basic statements held by all Catholics.

(1) The first is that the doctrine of the Real Presence is contained in the clearest and most explicit terms in the Holy

Scripture. I may add that all converts who pass over to the Catholic Church never have the slightest difficulty in finding in their Bibles the fullest warrant for the doctrine. (See Cardinal Wiseman’s “Lectures on the Eucharist.”)

(2) The second statement is that the doctrine of the Real Presence was taught in the Church from the beginning. The writings of the Fathers of the Church are full of it; the religious rites of the Church of the Catacombs centred round the doctrine of the Real Presence, as was also the case, and is still, in the schismatical Russian and Greek and other Oriental churches which broke away from Catholic unity many centuries before the Reformation. And, moreover, the Catholic Church, now as always, teaches the doctrine, tremendous as it is, not with a hesitating and uncertain voice, but with the total intensity of Her teaching authority.

(3) And the third statement I would make is one, I submit, which does credit to the enormous commonsense and hardheaded rationalism of the Catholic Church. It is the claim to an infallible teaching authority within the area of the faith delivered by Jesus Christ. Once this claim is admitted an indirect solution is found for every difficulty incidental to her official teaching. Now, her claim to this great prerogative of infallibility is not an unsubstantial shadow, but is firmly based as on the solid rock. It is not to be supposed for a moment that Jesus Christ handed over His wonderful teaching in a haphazard way to the ravages of time, to the changes of fashion, to the deadly processes of decay. He was very precise on this point. “Heaven and earth,” He said, “shall pass away, but My word shall not pass away.” his last commission was equally precise: “Go and teach all nations all things whatsoever I have commanded you.” He did not send His followers to diffuse His teaching in a vague and uncertain way, presenting this doctrine to one nation and that to another, varying them with the ages and the changing character of thought; but in tones as clear as a trumpet blast His commission stands: “Teach them all things whatsoever I have commanded you.” And as a guarantee that His Church need not fear failure in so great a task, He added, “And behold, I am with you all days, even to the consummation of the world.” A short time previously He had given the same guarantee: “Upon this Rock I will build My Church, and the gates of hell (or the powers of evil)shall not prevail against it.” The promise, therefore, of permanence of existence and permanence of doctrine was clearly given, and, indeed, was clearly necessary, while the miraculous history of the Catholic Church is the confirmation of that promise to the present hour. The Catholic Church is not harboured in some silent backwater of the world, but, standing ever on the great high-roads of history, confronts relentless hostility, and is ever subjected to the remorseless criticism of the keenest minds. This Church, then, in the midst of a world where empires rise and fall, where the tone and constitution of society are continually changing, where every institution except her own is in a state of continual dissolution-this Church, I say, standing up like a mountain of granite in the midst of a continually dissolving world, claiming-and alone in her claim-to speak as the official mouthpiece of Christ with infallibility within the area of the deposit of the faith, proclaims in the most precise and unambiguous terms, and with the full intensity of her teaching authority, the doctrine of the Real Presence of Jesus Christ in the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass from the moment of the Consecration, and wheresoever else in our churches the Blessed Sacrament is reserved.

Such are these three important statements. If a person tending towards belief in the Catholic Church, or anxious to believe in it, has doubts and anxieties concerning the Real Presence, I would suggest to him, as one method of solution, “Settle the question of infallibility, and all your difficulties will automatically disappear.”

THE INTRINSIC DIFFICULTY

So clear is the doctrine of the Real Presence in the Holy Scripture, and in the teaching of the Church from the beginning, that I am convinced no difficulty on these heads would be found by any candid enquirer were it not for the intrinsic difficulties of the mystery. So tremendous, indeed, is the mystery, so unexpected antecedently to its institution, apparently so extravagantly prodigal as a gift of God, that the mind may well pause before the mystery, as before the greatest test of faith. But once it is accepted, it is found to fit in with and round off, as nothing else can, the whole amazing liberality of God’s dealing with man.

HOW NEWMAN MET THE DIFFICULTY

Various instances might be given of non-Catholics favourably disposed to the Catholic Faith, and who found their chief difficulty in the doctrine of the Real Presence. It would be interesting to show how many of these ultimately saw light through their difficulty, but it will be sufficient here to mention the case of Newman. In the “Apologia,” Chapter V., he writes:

“Many persons are very sensitive of the difficulties of religion; I am as sensitive of them as anyone; but I have never been able to see a connection between apprehending those difficulties . . . and, on the other hand, doubting the doctrines to which they are attached. Ten thousand difficulties do not make one doubt, as I understand the subject; difficulty and doubt are incommensurate. There, of course, may be difficulties in the evidence; but I am speaking of difficulties intrinsic to the doctrines themselves. A man may be annoyed that he cannot work out a mathematical problem, without doubting that it admits of an answer, or that a particular answer is the true one. Of all points of faith, the Being of God is, to my own apprehension, encompassed with most difficulties, and yet borne in upon our mind with most power.”

“People say that the doctrine of Transubstantiation is difficult to believe; I did not believe the doctrine till I was a Catholic. I had no difficulty in believing it as soon as I believed that the Catholic Roman Church was the oracle of God, and that she had declared this doctrine to be part of the original revelation. It is difficult, impossible, to imagine, I grant; but how is it difficult to believe? “A faith which will stand that test,” says Macaulay, “will stand any test.” But for myself, I cannot indeed prove it. I cannot tell how it is; but I say, “Why should it not be? What’s to hinder it? What do I know of substance or matter? Just as much as the greatest philosophers, and that is nothing at all”; so much is this the case that there is a rising school of philosophy now which considers phenomena to constitute the whole of our knowledge in physics. The Catholic doctrine leaves phenomena alone. It does not say that the phenomena go; on the contrary, it says that they remain; nor does it say that the same phenomena are in several places at once. It deals with what no one on earth knows anything about, the material substances themselves.”

It may be added that any difficulty which may be felt regarding the presence of the Sacred Humanity in so many different places applies with full force to the omnipresence of the Divine Nature. But since we already know-and reason itself forces the knowledge on our minds-that the Divine Nature is present, whole and entire, everywhere, we may brush aside any difficulty which may arise regarding the presence of the Sacred Humanity in all places where the Blessed Sacrament is reserved.

The Great Test of Faith

Nevertheless, the Real Presence is a great test of faith, and Christ Himself made it a test case-in, fact, the Great Test. It was after the great miracle of the loaves and fishes that He first propounded the doctrine, yet many of those who had witnessed the miracle, or, at all events, had authentic information about it, said: “This is a hard saying, and who can hear it?” “And after that many of His disciples walked with Him no more.” Then Our Lord turned to the Twelve and said: “Will you also go away. Peter stepped to the side of Christ and used those memorable words which are the universal language of faith: “Lord, to whom shall we go but to Thee? Thou hast the words of eternal life. And we have believed and have known that Thou art Christ, the Son of God.”

On these words Dr. Albert Von Ruville, Professor of Modern History in the University of HalleWittenberg, Germany, a distinguished writer and convert, says: “Now the decision was given. Now the Apostles could, with full faith, become acquainted with the new Sacrament at the Last Supper, and receive it; now they could accept the power to perform this miracle, when, through Jesus” Passion, Death, and Resurrection, a deeper understanding of it had come to them. . . . The fame which St. Peter won by stepping to the side of Jesus in advance of the other disciples and of all humanity will not fade in all eternity.

“It would be presumption and self -deception if one wished to examine scientifically the miracle of the Holy Eucharist, to wish to prove or disprove it. It forms the foundation of a new conception of the world, the basis of a new science. We cannot, and must not, put ourselves on a worldly standpoint; we must not apply worldly principles, natural laws. No, first cross the line, and submit to the will of Jesus and acknowledge His holy Mystery; then make honest research and effort with all the resources of science. Only then the full truth can be obtained, not merely in the spiritual but also in the material sphere. I, at least, was not able to hesitate a moment to embrace the mystery with my whole heart when its whole meaning became known to me. But he who, though well-informed, cannot bring himself to cross the line (of this great test), has evidently not acquired real faith, however high may be his theological rank. The Holy Eucharist is the unerring touchstone of faith.”

A MYSTERY FOR THE MIND

The Blessed Sacrament is a mystery both for the mind and for the heart. As a mystery for the mind, it is like all the other great truths which concern the Divine Nature. It is beyond our comprehension as infinity is beyond the finite. If we ask ourselves how the substance of the bread and wine can be changed into the Body and Blood of Christ, we may reply with St. Augustine:

“By that same power which said. Let there be light, and light was made.”

In the natural order we have, under our eyes, mysteries which, if they do not furnish a complete analogy of the supernatural mysteries, at least prepare the mind for them. In the grain of wheat, for example, we may contemplate a miracle and a mystery which all may see but none may understand. Take in your hand that tiny seed. It is apparently lifeless. There is little in it to attract the outer senses; no, striking beauty of form, as in the palm or the fern; no miracle of colour, as in the rose or the pansy; no alluring subtlety of texture, as in the petals of the geranium. It presents little more to the outer eye than does a chip of wood or a fragment of dust. But the inner vision, penetrating the commonplace walls of the tiny seed, enters into a palace of wonders. It sees things which surpass the dreams of fairyland. It finds itself looking down one of the tremendous, interminable corridors in the “sounding labour house vast of being.” The whole atmosphere of the place palpitates with miracle and mystery-the miracle and mystery of the life which animates that seed. The mind can discern in the potency of that seed countless millions of square miles of waving fields of grain, growing and ripening from generation to generation, and capable of covering not only the entire cultivable earth, but also of covering tens of thousands of planets as vast as the earth itself. And all these marvels in the one little grain! If that single grain of wheat were the only specimen of plant life in the world, it would, still be sufficient to assure the harvests of countless generations. And the life of all the stalks in those boundless harvests lies hidden in this single grain of wheat, from which, through successive reproduction they derive their being.

And so, though the analogy is imperfect, the same infinite power that multiplies the seed multiplies also the Sacred Presence wherever the words of Consecration are pronounced over the bread and wine.

The multiplication of the wheat is a miracle of the natural order; Transubstantiation is a miracle of the supernatural order. We are familiar with the one from experience; we know the other through the” Word of God. But the mind, though it recognises both as facts, can understand neither the one nor the other.

CHRIST PREPARES THE MIND FOR THE MYSTERY

By stilling the storm with a word, Christ showed Himself the Master of the inanimate world; by raising Lazarus and others from the dead He proved Himself the Lord of life and death; and by the miracle of the loaves and fishes He prepared the minds of His followers for the mystery of Transubstantiation.

Thousands had followed Him into the wilderness. They had remained with Him three days, and the time had now come to dismiss them. But, their provisions being already exhausted, they were hungry. Christ, therefore, adopted a course which fulfilled a twofold purpose. It appeased their hunger, and at the same time prepared them for the doctrine of the Real Presence.

“And Jesus called together His disciples, and said: “I ha ve compassion on the multitudes, because they continue with Me now three days, and have not what to eat.” And I will not send them away fasting, lest they faint in the way. And the disciples say unto Him: Whence then should we have so many loaves in the desert to feed so great a multitude? And Jesus said to them: How many loaves have you? And they said: Seven, and a few little fishes. And He commanded the multitude to sit down upon the ground.

And taking the seven loaves and the fishes, and giving thanks, He broke and gave to His disciples, and the disciples gave to the people. And they all did eat, and had their fill. And they took up seven baskets full of what remained of the fragments. And they that did eat were four thousand men, besides women and children.” (Matt. 16.)

The divine power, through a handful of wheat, multiplied through successive harvests, feeds—whole nations with bread; the same power, through seven loaves, multiplied in a different but not more wonderful way, fed thousands of hungry men, women and children. And, again, the same power-”to which no word shall be impossible”-acting in a still more marvellous way, feeds the souls of hungry millions with the Bread of Life, multiplied as much as may be required in the constantly repeated miracle of Transubstantiation.

A MYSTERY FOR THE HEART

The Blessed Eucharist is also a mystery for the heart. Our heart pines for kindness, for remembrance, for love. Even the fidelity of a faithful dog we repay with gratitude. The love of parent, brother, sister, child and friend is the very native air of the heart. We need it. We can hardly live without it. But when all other love fails us, we still have God. Him, too, we need; “and we need Him most of all. Those who have lost “God are restless and unhappy. And their unhappiness is like the inarticulate cry of the infant for its mother. “Where is the One Whom my soul seeketh?” In a hundred ways we pine for Him. We need His love and His sustaining arms.

But when we turn to the Holy Eucharist for consolation, our narrow, human hearts are confronted with a profound mystery-truly a mystery for the heart. Can such love be? Can the great God of the universe pour out His affections upon us with such extravagant prodigality? Can it be that such a One woos our wretched hearts with such tender artifices? Well may we hesitate for a moment in perplexity, for we are only “men, with our narrow thoughts of human love and human goodness. But the mystery clears when we reflect that we are dealing with the Heart of God.”

We turn to the life of Christ, and the light on this amazing- mystery of love grows brighter and brighter. We see the poor stable on the hillside, with the little Babe in the manger, and we think deep thoughts; we note the humble home of Nazareth, where dwell Mary and Joseph and Mary’s marvellous Son; we see the poverty, the privation, the obscurity; and as we reflect on the meaning of it all, knowledge grows. A love which will do all this will do anything. Yes, there is no limit to this love. He is wooing our hearts, as only a divine lover could, with the most delicate artifices. He speaks to us, God though He be, not in the language of power and majesty, but in” the language we know best-the language of want and heart-hunger. Yes, He wants us.

We follow His steps to the terrible tragedy of the scourging, and the crowning of thorns, and the last awful scene on the Hill. There love utters its last strong cry. And is that companionship now to cease? Is it to he for us of later times only a reminiscence shining sweetly, but somewhat dimly, through the long vista of the receding centuries? No, most happily no. Infinite resourcefulness and infinite love discover the way. The “gift of the Sacred Humanity was too great, too overwhelming, to be lavished on one generation. It is to be perpetuated. And so, before the consummation of His Sacrifice, He has left us a twofold legacy-His Mother and Himself. He could have given us no greater gifts than these. In the midst of His agony, He gave us His Mother; a few hours before, in the supper-room, He instituted the Blessed Sacrament, and gave us Himself as a perpetual gift.

Yes, indeed, the Blessed Eucharist is a mystery for the heart; but it is in line with the whole amazing story of this Lover’s quest for our souls, from the stable of Bethlehem even to the Hill of Sorrow.

EFFECTS ON CATHOLIC LIFE

The Real Presence, then, is a wide and profound joy to the believer. It invests our churches and oratories with a beautiful and fascinating character, making them havens of peace and consolation, and elevating the spiritual sense of the worshipper. The Blessed Sacrament is the very centre of our devotional life. It is the hearthstone round which the Catholic family gathers. With this left out, the whole tone of our devotional life would be radically different. The Sacred Humanity would still be an adorable reminiscence; the life of Christ might still “be our consolation and our hope; but in the dark hours of existence how far off God would seem! If through some catastrophe all those little ruby lamps of the sanctuary were extinguished forever and the tabernacles left empty, what a darkness would fall on the world! What a happiness and ease of heart would vanish into the gloom! Every true Catholic understands this.

If we go into a non-Catholic church to examine, let us say, the beauty of the architecture, or just to take a look round, what do we notice? The place is cold. It seems empty. Our footfalls echo hollow and desolate in the empty spaces. To us the place, despite, perhaps, its irreproachable architecture, is four dead walls, and nothing more. There is something wanting. The saints are not encouraged-or, if they are, they do not feel at home there: we feel the angels are absent; the sweet Virgin Mary is not welcomed- perhaps not even wanted; there is no sanctuary lamp; no fire in the hearth; the atmosphere is chilly; the place is not homely; it is like a home where there is no mother, from which the father is absent, and the children, too, are all away. We miss many things; but, above all, we miss that which gives its meaning to all else-the inhabited tabernacle, the loving companionship of the Sacred Humanity, the soft music of the whisper which we fain would catch: “O ye who labour and are heavily laden, behold I am here!”

How great is the contrast when we visit one of own churches, no matter how humble it may be! It is a different world; a haven of peace and hope and companionship. Here we have something more than an empty house, something more than four dead walls. The place lives. It is beautiful-always beautiful. It has a soul. It is tenanted. And the soul of this living, beautiful temple is the everlasting Lover of our souls-the Sacred One Who brightens our pilgrimage with His unfailing love and His heart-easing companionship.

THE SECRET

And what is the secret of this intense spiritual life so widely spread among the faithful, of this frequent elevation of the humblest and most poverty-stricken Catholic men or women to a sublime realisation of the most beautiful things in existence? The secret is Bethlehem, Nazareth, Calvary. But not Bethlehem, Nazareth, Calvary apprehended as sweet and gracious visions appearing somewhat dimly through the growing haze of two thousand years, or as pertaining-to regions separated by thousands of miles of land amid water. No, Bethlehem is over the road in the little wayside chapel; Calvary is over there where the Mass bell tinkles at the tremendous words of the Consecration; Nazareth is there where the little ruby lamp of the sanctuary burns day and night before our Lord and Master, Jesus Christ, really present in the tabernacle and consoling our pilgrimage with His amazing companionship.

A distinguished writer says that to the humble man the rose is redder than to the ordinary man. I say with all humility, but with complete confidence, that to the devout believer in the Real Presence, the rose is redder than to other men, the sky is of a deeper blue, the meaning of life is more profound, the light on the path more intense, and the joy which is in the heart of things more easily apprehended. For God is not only in His heaven, not only present everywhere in the inscrutable immensity of His divine nature, but He is present in our midst in a way that grips our heart-strings, looking into our souls with His human eyes, assuaging our bruises with His human hands, loving us with His human heart, and whispering to us from the tabernacle where the little lamp glows before the Sacred Presence, “Come to Me and I will give you rest.”

Nihil Obstat:

J. Donovan,

Censor Deputatus.

Imprimi Potest:

J. Lonergan,

Administrator.

St. Patrick’s, Melbourne, 1925. ********

The Real Presence II

JUST WHAT IS IT?

REV. A. J. MCGILVRAY

INDEX

I

Do you believe in GOD?

If you do, the BLESSED EUCHARIST should mean something to you; if you do not, don’t waste your time reading this pamphlet . . .

GOD DOES EXIST

He is all powerful;

He is all knowing;

He is TRUTH.

Christ is God-the second person of the Blessed Trinity.

WHAT CHRIST TAUGHT MUST BE TRUE. HE WOULD NOT BE GOD IF HIS WORD WAS FALSE

If Christ is God-and He is-we must believe ALL He taught. Not ours to pick and choose. ALL Christ taught is

TRUE

Logical reasoning, isn’t it?

Whatever the Blessed Eucharist is, did Christ Himself teach It, introduce It, and give It to the Catholic Church for all time?

Nothing is more certain.

STATEMENT OF CATHOLIC DOCTRINE

What is the Blessed Eucharist? What does the Catholic Church believe and teach about It?

The Blessed Eucharist is the sacrament which really contains the BODY and BLOOD and SOUL and DIVINITY of Christ under the appearances of bread and wine.

It is the Sacrament of the REAL PRESENCE.

Catholics firmly believe that Christ, God Himself, is really and truly and substantially present in what they call the

Blessed Eucharist.

What an astonishing belief!

Fancy Christ living yet in something so earthly and tangible as bread!

How can this be true? Are Catholics credulous? Certainly not. They are good enough to believe ALL that Christ taught.

They believe even this: Christ is real and living on this very day in this very year in the Blessed Sacrament on

Catholic altars all over the world.

What a strange belief!

We must look into this.

A MATTER OF FAITH

At the outset we must state that Christ’s Real Presence can in no way be discovered by the senses or by the unaided intellect of man. It is a question of FAITH. Catholics believe Christ is God, and on His authority, they believe the Real Presence of Christ in the Blessed Eucharist IS A FACT.

What kind of argument is that?- you might persist.

Perfectly logical argument. You believe in God, don’t you? You believe the word of Christ is TRUE and it could not be FALSE. So you must believe on His authority the mystery of His Real Presence in the Blessed Eucharist.

THAT IS, if Christ ever taught anything about His Real Presence in the Blessed Sacrament.

DID He actually do so?

Now we are coming to the crux of the question.

BACKGROUND

Ever heard of the Lake of Galilee? You have. Good. A couple of miles to the north-east of this lake is the town of Bethsaida. On one occasion, Christ sought rest and solitude near this place; but His retirement was short-lived, as the people, men and women and children, sought Him in their thousands. They wished to be near Him; for He taught them; consoled them; and worked such astonishing miracles of mercy for the afflicted amongst them. The blind saw again; the dumb spoke; the deaf heard and the dead lived again. And all this, as they in their wonderment observed, simply at His Word.

Simple, curious, spell-bound people. They followed the Man of Galilee and forgot everything in their eagerness. FORGOT EVEN TO BRING FOOD WITH THEM.

You know what happened. Christ did not order the people to go and buy or solicit food in the neighbouring towns and villages.

No, He fed the five thousand of them.

Fed them, too, after a stupendous miracle, in which, by His Divine power, He multiplied a few loaves of bread and two fishes.

One of Christ’s greatest miracles. Such was the first multiplication of bread.

But why this narrative? Has it any relation to the Blessed Eucharist- whatever that is?

Quite, a lot, as we shall see.

The multiplication of the bread happened at the beginning of the third year of Christ’s public ministry. The day following this miracle, the crowd went from Bethsaida down to Capharnaum, where they found Christ in the temple.

There Christ spoke to them about THE BREAD OF LIFE.

It is not very difficult to see why the people went to Capharnaum to find Christ.

They saw a spendid opportunity of enjoying an easy life. And we cannot blame them. No need to work for food when Christ could supply it so easily. It was no effort at all for Him. Just work a miracle.

Yes, the Jews saw pleasant possibilities. Why not keep near Christ. So easy. Good food in abundance. No laborious effort on their part or His. Truly an intriguing situation.

Christ, however, had not the slightest intention of making things as easy as all that for them. It was not His policy. He had no wish to alter the divine decree that man should earn his bread by the sweat of his brow. Adam fell; and he and his posterity would have to pay for it.

In fact, Christ told them clearly and without mixing words, that they were to “labour not for the meat which perishes, but that which endures unto life everlasting.”

Not earthly bread, but enduring bread.

Obviously another kind of bread altogether.

The BREAD OF LIFE.

Let us keep before us that Christ IS God. Whatever He PROMISES to do, He must do. He would be a deceiver if He did not fulfil a promise.

What is this talk about a promise? Did Christ, God, promise ANYTHING? Anything that has any bearing on the present question?

Assuredly, He did.

Let us read a little HISTORY as narrated by the Evangelist St. John. It is the sixth chapter of his inspired Book.

Verse 26: Jesus answered them, and said: Amen, amen I say to you, you seek me, not because you have seen miracles, but because you did eat of the loaves, and were filled.

V. 27: Labour not for the meat which perisheth, but for that which endureth unto life everlasting, which the son of man will give you. For him hath God, the Father, sealed.

Christ replies to the Jews who sought Him out, that they sought Him desiring TEMPORAL GOODS; not, as they should have done, desiring SPIRITUAL GOODS.

V.28: They said therefore unto Him: What shall we do that we may work the works of God?

V.29: Jesus answered, and said to them: This is the work of God, that you believe in him whom he hath sent.

V.30: They said therefore to him: What sign therefore dost thou shew, that we may see, and may believe thee? What dost thou work?

V.31: Our fathers did eat manna in the desert, as it is written: He gave them bread from heaven to eat. V.32: Then Jesus said to them: Amen, amen I say to you; Moses gave you not bread from heaven, but my Father giveth you the true bread from heaven.

V.33: For the bread of God is that which cometh down from heaven, and giveth life to the world.

Observe that the dispositons of the Jews are decidedly bad. They understand perfectly that Christ requires Faith in Him, as He was sent by God the Father. Nevertheless, they demand a SIGN that they might see and believe.

“What dost thou work?” they asked contemptuously.

The recent multiplication of bread, a stupendous miracle, was not, it would seem, SIGN enough for them. Surely, that should have convinced them that Christ is God. What more obvious sign could they have needed?

Yet with obstinate defiance they go on to argue about the manna their fathers ate in the desert. “He gave them bread from heaven to eat.” Wasn’t that manna bread from heaven?

Poor stubborn Jews! Christ agrees that manna was bread from heaven; but He assures them openly and clearly that the new bread He promises is more excellent by far than the bread Moses gave their fathers in the desert. Manna FELL from the skies: it did not come from THE THRONE OF GOD. “For the bread of God is that which cometh down from heaven, and (note well) giveth life to the world.”

V.34: They said therefore unto him: Lord, give us always this bread.

V.35: And Jesus said to them: I am the bread of life: he that cometh to me shall not hunger: and he that believeth in me shall never thirst.

V.36: But I say unto you, that you also have seen me, and you believe not.

V.37: All that the Father giveth to me shall come to me; and him that cometh to me, I will not cast out.

V.38: Because I came down from heaven, not to do my own will, but the will of him who sent me.

“I am the bread of life.”

I, Christ, God, AM the bread of life

The very idea of it! The Jews knew Christ-knew His lowly mother and His humble, hard-working foster- father,

Joseph the carpenter. Fancy this Christ saying, so seriously, too, that He is the bread of life. Too much for any Jew.

Too much for one who did not possess the gift of Faith.

They did not know that Christ is God. Even His miracles, about which they were so enthusiastic, did not convince them of His divinity.

We have an advantage; for we DO know that Christ is God. And we are considering a promise that He was making.

V.47: Amen, amen, I say unto you: He that believeth in me, hath everlasting life.

V.48: I AM THE BREAD OF LIFE.

V.49: Your fathers did eat manna in the desert, and are dead.

V.50: This is the bread which cometh down from heaven; that if any man eat of it, he may not die.

V.51: I am the LIVING bread which came down from heaven.

Thus Christ, severely reproaching His hearers for their incredulity, persists with His argument that He IS the new heavenly bread-a bread that had to be EATEN.

HE MUST BE EATEN by those who would have everlasting life.

“I WILL GIVE . . .”

The study of St. John’s inspired History now becomes even more intriguing.

V.52: . . . and the bread that I WILL give, is my flesh, for the life of the world.

Christ for the first time clearly asserts that HIS FLESH is that food about which He has been speaking.

This assertion is made by Christ Who could not deceive or be deceived.

There must have followed uproar on the part of the Jews. Could they believe their ears? Here was this son of the village carpenter saying: ‘And the bread which I will give is MY FLESH for the life of the world.”

Uproar certainly DID follow.

“How can this man give us his flesh to eat?” V. 53. Christ heard their murmuring. The Searcher of hearts knew their thoughts.

But did He say something like this: “Oh, just a moment; I beg your pardon, but I did not mean it that way. Sorry I have misled you?”

He was God; it was His DUTY to correct any wrong impression for which He may have been responsible. He would not be God if He deliberately allowed his hearers to be misled by what He taught.

BUT CHRIST DID NOT WITHDRAW OR ALTER ANY OF HIS UTTERANCES. HE INSISTED ON THE ABSOLUTE TRUTH OF ALL HE HAD SAID. THEY UNDERSTOOD LITERALLY

Christ knew His disciples understood His words in their literal sense.

He meant His words to be understood that way.

Why?

Because His reply solemnly affirmed:

(1) The necessity of EATING His flesh, if one was to have eternal life.

(2) The TRUTH or REALITY of this EATING of His flesh.

Read V.54:

“Then Jesus said to them: Amen, amen I say unto you: Except you eat the flesh of the Son of man, and drink his blood, you shall not have life in you.”

Except you EAT . . .

V.55: He that EATETH my flesh, and drinketh my blood, hath everlasting life, and I will raise him up in the last day.

V.56: FOR my flesh IS meat indeed: and my blood is drink indeed.

V.57: He that EATETH my flesh, and drinketh my blood, abideth in me, and I in him.

“DOTH THIS SCANDALISE YOU?”

Seeing Christ persist in the truth of His promise, “Many of his disciples hearing it said: This saying is hard, and who can hear it ?”-V.61.

Then Christ, “knowing in himself, that his disciples murmured at this, said to them: Doth this scandalise you ?”

They were scandalised precisely because Christ insisted on the literal meaning of His words. And because He did, “many of them walked no more with him.”

We can’t believe that. His flesh to eat! Ridiculous!

Come on-we’ve had enough of him! And Christ allowed them to go. His words were true, no matter the consequence.

V.68: Then Jesus said to the twelve: Will you also go away?

V.69: And Simon Peter answered him: Lord, to whom shall we go? thou hast the words of eternal life.

V.70: And we have believed and have known, that thou art the Christ, the Son of God.

SO FAR, ANY CONCLUSIONS?

Christ, the Son of God, introduced SOMETHING NEW to His hearers, SOMETHING surprising. Christ, the Son of God, went to great pains to show He was not joking, He was not being playful, but that He taught this new SOMETHING as absolutely TRUE.

Christ, the Son of God, did not use misleading terminology. He spoke openly and honestly. Christ, the Son of God, taught the Doctrine of HIS REAL PRESENCE. It was the new SOMETHING.

Christ, the Son of God,

(a) spoke of His Flesh and Blood as FOOD and DRINK;

(b) promised in the plainest language that He would give His Flesh and Blood to be EATEN and DRUNK by His people.

Christ, the Son of God, insisted that the people take Him literally.

Christ, the Son of God, offered no APOLOGY, WITHDRAWAL, or CORRECTION when He saw the people DID take Him literally.

Christ, the Son of God, would not be God, if HE was the author of the world’s GREATEST DECEPTION.

But He is God-the author of mankind’s GREATEST BLESSING.

If God is TRUTH, the REAL PRESENCE is TRUE.

God is TRUTH.

The REAL PRESENCE IS A FACT.

Christ definitely PROMISED the REAL PRESENCE.

Did He actually give it ?

Let us examine the available evidence.

Once again some History. This time, the writings of Matthew, Mark, Luke and St. Paul . . .

They are relating the history of Christ’s farewell meal with His Apostles on the night previous to His death . . .

At that meal, Christ did SOMETHING that was to have a tremendous effect on the spiritual life of the world for all time . . .

WHAT DID HE DO?

HE INSTITUTED THE BLESSED EUCHARIST, THE SACRAMENT OF HIS REAL PRESENCE

First, let us hear these inspired historians.

Matthew: But when it was evening, he sat down with his twelve disciples . . . And whilst they were at supper, Jesus took bread and blessed, and broke: and gave to his disciples and said: Take ye and eat: This is my body.

And taking the chalice, he gave thanks, and gave to them, saying:

Drink ye all of this, for this is my blood .

Mark: And whilst they were eating, Jesus took bread; and blessing, broke, and gave to them, and said: Take ye. This is my body.

And having taken the chalice, . . . and he said to them: This is my blood . . .

Luke: And taking bread, he gave thanks, and broke; and gave to them, saying: This is my body, which is given for you.

. . . In like manner the chalice also, saying: This is the chalice, the new testament in my blood, which shall be shed for you.

St. Paul: Take ye and eat; this is my body.

. . . This chalice is the new testament in my blood, . . . For as often as you shall eat this bread, and drink this chalice, you shall show the death of the Lord, until he come . . . whosoever shall eat this bread or drink the chalice of the Lord unworthily, SHALL BE GUILTY OF THE BODY AND OF THE BLOOD OF THE LORD.

The Real Presence of Christ under the species of bread and wine is unassailably proved from the words used in the institution of the Blessed Sacrament.

“THIS IS MY BODY.” Who used those words? Christ, the Son of God.

Was He jesting, when He used them ?

It was one of the most solemn moments of His life.

Did He wish to deceive or mislead His Apostles?

That is impossible.

Did He mean what He said?

Being God, He could not mean anything else.

Was He speaking metaphorically?

Definitely not. There was no reason why He should. Besides, He PROMISED to give His flesh to eat and His blood to drink. Now He is fulfilling that promise.

What do those words mean?

An honest, plain statement, such as that, and uttered by Truth Itself, could not possibly mean anything but: “THIS IS MY BODY.”

Further:

Christ, God held something in His hand, and offered it to His Apostles to eat. It HAD BEEN bread, but when He offered It, It was NOT bread. CHRIST HAD OBVIOUSLY DONE SOMETHING to that bread.

He had changed bread into His Body and Blood.

He MUST have done so. Being God, He COULD do so.

The appearances of bread and wine undoubtedly remained. The Apostles thought they saw bread and wine. But they KNEW Christ’s living BODY and BLOOD were present in what seemed to be bread and wine.

Christ, by His divine power, had changed the SUBSTANCE of bread and wine into His Body and Blood. And He gave the Apostles, His first priests, the power to do the same.

“Do THIS (what I have just done) in commemoration of Me.”

What Christ gave them was His Body and Blood.

The Apostles believed it.

The Universal Catholic Church has believed it for almost two thousand years.

Why should not ALL CHRISTIANS believe it?

FOR WHO IS ANY CREATURE TO CHALLLNGE THE TRUTH OF THE WORD OF GOD? . . .

As a result of that unfortunate series of events that became known as the Reformation, a large portion of the Christian world has been ROBBED of its most priceless possession. It has been robbed of the Real Presence of the Son of God.

Non-Catholic reader, whatever you might be, Anglican, Methodist, Baptist, Salvationist, or a member of any of the other couple of hundred sects, YOU HAVE BEEN ROBBED. Through foolish men who founded your particular brand of non-Catholicism, you have been led away from Christ into a WILDERNESS of Unbelief and Uncertainty.

Your ancestors, before the 16th century, HAD the Real Presence, and loved and respected It. Now you have NOTHING. But you would have had IT to-day, had it not been for the pride of Luther, the lust of Henry VIII, and the rope and sword of his successors.

If you believe Christ is God, as I think you do, you SHOULD HAVE THE REAL PRESENCE.

Through no fault of yours, It was taken from you.

An honest facing of the facts, should show you that the Blessed Eucharist has been a reality all over the world for almost two thousand years.

Hundreds of millions believe It NOW.

Millions and millions have believed It back to Christ’s day.

If they are all wrong, and have been all wrong, GOD HIMSELF IS TO BLAME.

Catholics are GOOD enough to believe the honest, straightforward words of Christ. Catholics the world over, men of every race and colour, of different temperaments and character, believe the words of Christ.

Catholics throughout twenty long centuries have been GOOD enough to believe the words of Christ, Eternal Truth.

For them all, ‘THIS IS MY BODY” means “THIS IS MY BODY.”

But for some reason, for all other Christians, “This is my Body” MUST mean something else. Those words are made to mean anything else but “This is my Body.”

Strange, isn’t it?

Many men have written books on those few words, trying to prove that they can’t possibly mean what they say. Four simple words that have as many meanings as the host of writers who try to DISTORT their one and only meaning.

Very strange, indeed.

Caesar spoke; he is believed.

Herod spoke; he is believed. Charlemagne spoke; he is believed. Henry VIII spoke; he is believed.

You, honest man, speak; you are believed.

CHRIST, GOD, SPOKE; He is not believed.

Doesn’t make sense, does it?

Christ gave His first priests the power to do what He had done, i.e., to change the substance of bread into His body and blood. They, in turn, were to give that power to others selected-and so to the end of time.

The Blessed Eucharist, as Christ ordained, was to be in His One, Holy, and Universal Church to the end of the world . . .

At the Catholic Mass, the substance of bread and wine are changed into the Body and Blood of Jesus Christ, the Son of God.

That is what happens at Mass.

That is why Catholics attend Mass. Catholics here, in Europe, in America, in Asia, in Iceland-everywhere.

The Catholic Mass is the very same the world over.

Catholics do not attend Mass to sing a few hymns.

Catholics do not attend Mass because they think it proper to go.

Catholics do not attend Mass to hear a man preach.

They attend, because at Mass, Christ, living and real and substantial, COMES in person to live with them, and to give His Body and Blood as true bodily food . . .

The Mass is the REAL way God wishes to be honoured.

Man-made “service,” no matter how sincere, is the way men think God should be honoured.

God meant the Mass for all Christians.

Sinful men took it away from millions.

Nihil obstat:

P. JONES

Censor Deputatus

Imprimatur:

@ D. MANNIX

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis

********

The Reformation In England

J.J. DWYER

INDEX

THE BACKGROUND

THE REFORMATION in England was the result of governmental initiative and action, in three stages: 1. by Henry VIII, in his Reformation Parliament, 1529–36; and, subsequently,

2. under Edward VI, by the initiative and continued action of the Council;

3. after the ‘Marian Reaction,’ by Elizabeth I and her Ministers.

The English Reformation was consolidated, but not created, by the plunder of the Church. Henry VIII had completely broken away from the Holy See before anyone could have had any expectation of acquiring an acre of monastic land. One of the first things to be understood is that, notwithstanding the expression Ecclesia Anglicana in Magna Carta, there never was a separate and distinct National Church in this country. That expression means no more, and never did mean any more, than, for example, Ecclesia Germanica for the Germans, or Ecclesia Gallicana for the French. There were in England two provinces of the Universal Church, viz. Canterbury and York, just as in France the provinces of Lyons, Rheims, Rouen, Bordeaux, etc.

No country throughout the centuries before the Reformation and even in Saxon times acknowledged papal authority and jurisdiction so fully as did England. There were more appeals to the Pope from English ecclesiastical courts than from those of any other country. There was nothing in England that resembled the ‘Gallicanism’ of the French or the anti-Italian feeling always prevalent in Germany, but there was a strong sense of nationalism.

The unrest in England in the sixteenth century was economic and agrarian. There was, however, a certain amount of anti-clericalism in London and the larger towns which was in no way doctrinal but was due to the exaction of fees and to a large degree of clerical control over the affairs of everyday life. The Courts Ecclesiastical took cognizance of all cases concerning the validity of marriages, legitimacy, the validity, interpretation and administration of wills, and this could extend to the supervision of the conduct of executors. For any sexual irregularities, libel or slander, simony, and even for refusal to attend church, people could be, and were, summoned and were liable to fine or imprisonment. For a long period before the Reformation Parliament of Henry VIII this had been a cause of unpopularity of the clergy, especially in view of a certain professionalism of the clerical body—Holy Orders were often considered as a livelihood as much as a vocation.

Throughout the hundred or hundred and fifty years before the Reformation the stream of endowments went almost entirely to education, i.e., for colleges at Oxford and Cambridge and grammar schools, and not at all to monasteries.

Lollardry had more or less gone underground, but it persisted among the artisan classes, mainly in the smaller towns. Imported translations of the Bible were read and passed around surreptitiously, especially in East Anglia; Cambridge University was to become for a time a focus of Lutheranism. But, for the most part, the Lollards, i.e., followers of Wyclif, were regarded as ignorant anarchists, contemners of law and authority in matters extending beyond religious doctrine. The Hussite movement in Bohemia had produced civil war and many calamities; this was held against Lollardry.

Lay people, aware of pluralism and gross inequalities in ecclesiastical revenues, indifferent to religion and irritated by the exaction of fees (especially ‘mortuaries’ for burials), were not really Lollards. Much has been made of the socalled Secularization of the Papacy and of the fact that a series of Popes in the later fifteenth and early sixteenth centuries directed their energies largely to the formation and aggrandizement of an Italian principate. But belief was not affected by these tendencies or these events, simply because they were unknown to the general body of people in England and could not be known (in the then conditions) to any people outside governmental and Court circles and the higher clergy. Clerical students who went in a stream to Italy during the fifteenth century seldom went to Rome; they lived at Bologna or Padua, attending the universities.

HENRY VIII (1509–1547)

THE ‘DIVORCE’

HENRY’S FAILURE to secure the annulment of his marriage was not the cause of anti-clericalism any more than it was the cause of Lollardry or Lutheranism. But his disappointment and rage made the occasion.

Henry did not want the Pope to judge his case. What he asked for was for the Pope to pronounce, without any proper trial, nullity of marriage, so that he could marry again; i.e., the Pope was to ratify what he had already decided. He was asking for canonical authority to marry a woman to whom he was already related by previous adultery with her sister, Mary Boleyn, in exactly the same degree as he would have been to Katharine if her marriage to his elder brother, Arthur, had been consummated. (It had not.)

On January 25, 1533, Henry secretly married Anne Boleyn. On February 21 Cranmer was made Primate of England; Warham, Archbishop of Canterbury from 1503, having died during the previous year. Cranmer pronounced the divorce of Henry and Katharine of Aragon on April 23, 1533, and on June 1 Anne Boleyn was crowned Queen.

The claim that Katharine ‘could not give him an heir’ was false. She had had five children, three of them male. That they were stillborn, or died at once, was not her fault. Anne Boleyn’s second child, after miscarriages, born Jan. 29, 1536, was still-born; the birth of Edward VI was fatal to Jane Seymour.

THE REFORMATION PARLIAMENT

The work of the Reformation Parliament, a systematic series of attacks on papal authority, was set in motion and maintained by the personal action and pressure of Henry, as a direct result of the collapse of the Divorce Trial at Blackfriars. The Reformation Parliament (1529–36) passed the following statutes:

(1) Anti-clerical legislation, curtailing privileges of the clergy;

(2) Reformation legislation affecting doctrine and/or the jurisdiction of the Pope.

(1) Anti-Clerical Legislation

1531. 22 Hen. VIII cap. 15: Clergy were held liable to the penalties of Praemunire for accepting Wolsey as Legate and fined £118,840. Acknowledgment of the King as Supreme Head of the Church was demanded ‘as far as the law of Christ allows.’ (This clause was added by Fisher.)

1532. 23 Hen. VIII cap. 20: Conditional discontinuance of payment of ‘first-fruits’ of bishoprics to the Pope.

(2) Reformation Legislation

1533. 24 Hen. VIII cap. 12: Appeals to Rome forbidden by statute. This was the severance from Rome.

1534. 25 Hen. VIII cap. 20: Ecclesiastical Appointments Act: no one to be presented to the Pope for appointment. 25 Hen. VIII cap. 21: Dispensations to be granted by the Archbishop of Canterbury, not by the Pope. 25 Hen. VIII cap. 19: Submission of the Clergy Act: Henry declared Head of the Church absolutely. 25 Hen. VIII cap. 22: Succession Act: settling Succession on children of Anne Boleyn. 26 Hen. VIII cap. 1: Act of Supremacy: The King to be the only Supreme Head on earth of the Church in England, with full power over heresies, abuses, offences whatsoever, that may be reformed by spiritual authority. 26 Hen. VIII cap. 2: Second Succession Act. 26 Hen. VIII cap. 13: Treason Act^1: Treason (i.e. death) to deny in words any dignity or title of the King, or to call him heretic, schismatic or tyrant. 26 Hen. VIII cap. 3: Second Annates Act: First-fruits, formerly to the Pope, now to be paid to the King. (Annates were the first year’s revenue of bishoprics and certain other preferments.)

By this legislation Henry became, in the words of Stubbs, ‘the Pope, the whole Pope, and something more than the Pope’ ; in fact, a Khalif. He did what no Pope had ever done—deposed all the bishops and reappointed them himself, by his own authority (1535).

Four bishops refused to accept this and were deprived : Fisher (Rochester), Athequa, a Spaniard (Llandaff), Campeggio, an Italian (Salisbury), and Ghinucci, an Italian (Worcester). (The three foreigners held in commendam.)

1 Note that More and Fisher, the Carthusians and others, were not put to death ‘for refusing to acknowledge Anne Boleyn as Queen’ (as falsely stated in hundreds of English books), but for refusing to acknowledge Henry as Supreme Head on Earth of the Church in England and for refusing to renounce the spiritual authority of the Pope.

In 1535 Henry appointed a layman, Thomas Cromwell, as Vicar General over the Church. Henry thus claimed for himself the cure of souls. In 1536, in his general pardon to the Pilgrims of Grace, it is stated that the King had the chief charge of them under God ‘both of your souls and bodies.’ He was the Head of his Church and his subjects were the members. It was for this heretical claim that he was excommunicated by Paul III^2.

The above legislation in the ‘Reformation Parliament’ did not touch doctrine—that was to come after- although it made a revolutionary change. It is probably because Henry VIII did not embrace Lutheranism or Calvinism that French Catholic writers still persist in calling it ‘the Anglican Schism’ or ‘the Henrician Schism.’ To them, doubtless, it so much resembles Gallicanism that they see no great harm, at least in its first stages; but they do not appear to understand what was done under Edward VI and Elizabeth I. They are unduly impressed by the fact that Henry burnt people for denying Transubstantiation and not sufficiently by the fact that his assumption of the power of personally determining doctrine was essentially heretical. Henry persuaded himself, and claimed, that he possessed, as King, spiritual functions; he exercised them by determining doctrine and actually delegated his powers to a layman. Moreover, these writers have always paid more attention to the quasi-Catholic element in the Prayer Book than to the Calvinistic Articles, and (being hardly aware of the writings of the Reformers and knowing far too little about their acts) they do not know that the latter insisted that they had now ‘the new religion of Christ’s Gospel.’

Henry based his claim to supremacy on Scripture: “The King’s most royal Majesty is and hath always been, by the word of God, Supreme Head on earth of the Church in England and hath full power and authority to correct, punish and repress all manner of heresies . . . and to exercise all other manner of jurisdiction commonly called ecclesiastical jurisdiction.” It is absurd to describe this as an ‘administrative’ change.

Note the ‘hath always been.’ In that case, the Headship of the Church must have changed hands several times during the Wars of the Roses, between Henry VI and Edward IV; and by the result of the Battle of Bosworth, it was transferred from Richard III to Henry VII!

The absurdity of the claim was soon demonstrated by events: (1) Edward VI at his accession was a boy of nine; (2) Philip and Mary were joint sovereigns, but Philip was a foreigner; (3) Elizabeth was really a politique with no religious convictions.

It was Thomas Cromwell who gave Henry the advice to destroy all the monasteries and seize their lands and goods, whereby he could make himself ‘the richest Prince in Christendom.’ This was a drastic enlargement on the destructive, but not the constructive, side of a scheme formerly meditated by Henry and Wolsey for forming a number of new dioceses and making some of the greater abbeys the cathedrals of such dioceses. This was subsequently done in only six cases: Chester, Gloucester, Bristol, Peterborough, Oxford, and Westminster^3. Cromwell, moreover, persuaded Henry that he could do whatever he pleased by merely putting it into an Act of Parliament and making the denial of it treason. J. R. Green, in the Short History of the English People, described Cromwell’s proceedings as a ‘reign of terror.’

THE DISSOLUTION OF THE MONASTERIES

This was done in two stages: the ‘Lesser Monasteries’ (i.e., with incomes not more than £200 per annum) by Act of Parliament in 1536. (This gave rise to the ‘Pilgrimage of Grace’ in the Northern Counties.) The Greater Monasteries were surrendered to the King, without further legislation, 1538–40. This was carried out by Cromwell and his agents. These abbeys had previously been described as ‘the great solemn monasteries of the realm, where religion was right well observed.’

The following figures are taken from J. Gairdner’s English Church 1509–1558:

Lesser Monasteries (not over £200 per annum) (1536). . . . 215 Nunneries suppressed under the same Act. . . . .. . . . . . . . 103

2Act of Parliament (35 Henry VIII cap. 3; 1543) specifically re-conferred the title of Defender of the Faith ‘after the withdrawal of the title from Henry VIII by the Pope.’ Paul III excommunicated Henry in 1538, but this was ignored in England. In any case, the title was held good in England under the Treason Act (see 1534 above), which remained in force. Mary, of course, was entitled to use it, for she was a defender of the faith. (She and Philip did use it.) 3For ten years (1540–1550) Westminster Abbey was the cathedral of a new diocese of Middlesex.

Greater Monasteries, ‘surrendered to the King’ . . . 158 Greater Nunneries, ‘surrendered to the King.’ . . . .. . . . . 30 Monasteries suppressed by attainder as result of Pilgrimage of Grace. . . . .. . . . .. . . . .. . . . . . . 12 Commanderies and Preceptories of Knights of St John. . . . .. . . . 43

561

Between 1536 and 1540, 561 Religious Houses of monks and Canons Regular disappeared. In addition, all the Friaries in about 125 towns were suppressed. In the more important towns there were the four main Orders of Friars, i.e., Dominicans, Franciscans, Carmelites, and Austin Friars; in some larger towns three Orders were to be found, nearly always the first two, and in some instances just one. Their value was very small, as they could not hold any land. Altogether, over 850 Religious Houses were destroyed.

Except in the case of attainder, after the Pilgrimage of Grace, the monks in every case were awarded small pensions which ceased if they obtained other clerical employment. The accusations against the monks were, in the vast majority of cases, altogether false. Many were probably inert or slack, but very few were immoral. The accusations made against the ‘Lesser Monasteries’ were never formally made against the ‘Greater.’ A few of the Northern monasteries lent aid to the Pilgrimage of Grace, a rebellion which began as a protest against the Dissolution. These suffered accordingly in the reprisals: ten abbots and priors and fourteen other clerics were executed.

The suppression of all Houses of Religious meant the discontinuance for ever of many thousands of Masses for the Dead for which money had been given or bequeathed. This contributed greatly to the abolition of the Mass itself. The long step was from the Dissolution (1536–40) to the Chantries Act (1547); the short step was from that to the First Prayer Book of 1549.

Two other consequences may be noted: the number of Lords Spiritual was halved -there were as many mitred abbots as bishops in the House of Lords; a great impulse was given to the idea of clerical marriages.

The old belief that the monastic property was ‘distributed among his courtiers’ by Henry VIII was long ago demolished by A. Savine (English Monasteries on the Eve of the Dissolution). The King’s object was cash and the lands were sold at about ten years’ purchase; 95% of it was sold very rapidly and the proceeds were paid into an office created for the purpose, the Augmentation Office.

The proceeds in cash of the sales amounted to about £1 million During the decade 1536–47 the royal revenue (E100,000 p.a.) was doubled.4

There were very few gifts: 41 cases out of 1,593 ‘grants.’ The sales were always expressed as being ‘grants’ because the King was the vendor. The number of outright sales was 1,186; there were also a number of ‘exchanges,’ all very profitable to the King.

When the sales were completed, a vested interest of impregnable strength was created. The ‘reconciliation’ under Mary (1554) did not, and could not, touch it. There had been created-in Parliament, the judiciary, the local government (Lords Lieutenant, sheriffs, justices of the peace, etc.) and officials-an Upper Thousand who were strong enough in the following century to break the monarchy. Their power was essentially secular (economic and political); there was nobody of high birth, substance, or commanding ability among the Elizabethan and Jacobean clergy.

DOCTRINE

There were four different statements of belief put out between 1536 and 1543:

(1) The somewhat Lutheran Ten Articles of 1536, the work of Henry himself and Foxe of Hereford. The number of

Sacraments was reduced to three, viz., Baptism, Holy Eucharist, and Penance.

(2) The ‘Bishops Book’ of 1537 (The Institution of a Christian Man). In it, one page out of 180 was about the

Holy Eucharist-as Communion, not the Mass.

(3) The much more Catholic Six Articles of 1539, generally described as ‘reactionary.’

(4) The ‘King’s Book’ of 1543 (“That Christian Kings and Princes will provide ministers to teach the true doctrine of Christ”).

4This does not include gold, silver, precious stones, etc., and a vast quantity of valuable objects all of which went to the King.

Other steps in the process of severance were:

The appointment of Bishops (1540–47) by Letters Patent. In one or two cases (e.g. Barlow) it was doubtful whether they were even consecrated. Barlow had proclaimed his disbelief in the necessity of ordination or consecration.

Revision of the Litany by Cranmer (a concealed Protestant and married), whom Henry had made Archbishop of Canterbury.

The circulation of Lutheran pamphlets, etc., was tolerated, but open preaching of Protestantism was punished as heresy, i.e. by death.

In 1538 the Royal licence for Coverdale’s Bible was granted. Coverdale was a strong Protestant who had been in controversy with Sir Thomas More.

In 1544 came the issue of the English Litany and the Primer (a book of Prayers) in English.

[There were three kinds of Bishops under Henry VIII in the latter part of his reign (1540–47): (1) Catholics (but who accepted all his legislation): Gardiner, Tunstall, Stokesley, Longland, Clerk, Bonner. (2) Protestants: Cranmer, Latimer, E. Foxe, Shaxton, Goodrich, Hilsey, Barlow. (3) The rest doubtful- ready to agree to anything: e.g. Holgate (York), who took a wife (because he was told to do so) under Edward VI.]

Had Henry VIII lived longer, there would almost certainly have been more Protestant doctrine than he had allowed, because what he had begun was increasing. He could not stop it. According to A. F. Pollard, “We have Cranmer’s word for it that in September 1546 Henry was meditating the transformation of the Mass into a Communion.” (Polit. Hist. of England, vol. VI, 1547–1603.) The ‘Six Articles’ of 1539 were a swing back to Catholicism, but not all the way. It was impossible to undo what he had done.

The Protestant element in the Council was stronger in Henry’s last years—Gardiner, the leading Catholic bishop, was left out of the Regency. The little Prince Edward’s tutors were all staunch Protestants, viz., Sir John Cheke, Sir Antony Cooke, Dr. Richard Coxe.

[All the foregoing legislation was repealed under Mary: but its effect could not be removed. Protestantism took root during those nine or ten years from 1538 to 1547. Had Henry been succeeded at once by Mary, in 1547 (instead of in 1553), she could not have restored everything. Before Henry died he was planning the destruction of the Chantries (endowed chapels where Masses were said for guilds), and this was done soon after his death.]

1545. An Act (37 Hen. VIII cap. 4) for the Dissolution of Colleges, Chantries and Free Chapels authorized him to seize all chantries and all colleges.

EDWARD VI (1547–1553)

DRASTIC STEPS were now taken to establish Protestantism, but without any further reference to foreign affairs; there was no question of alliance with Lutheran princes, and the manifest object now was plunder. The death of Edward VI came in time to prevent the abolition of episcopacy and the confiscation of the episcopal and capitular estates.

1547. The Statute of Chantries (1 Edw. VI cap. 14) gave the Crown all colleges, free chapels and chantries, with all endowments for obituaries and anniversaries (i.e. Masses for souls of benefactors), and stipends of curates to say them. Fresh commissions were drawn up for bishops who were to hold office quamdiu se bene gesserint, i.e., so long as their conduct was satisfactory to the Supreme Head (aged nine). The same year (1547) saw the repeal of Henry’s ‘Six Articles.’ Bishops to be appointed by Letters Patent, as under Henry VIII between 1540 and 1547.

1548–50. ‘The Great Pillage’ : abolition of images from churches—great destruction of shrines, ornaments, stained glass, etc. The effects of this and the subsequent havoc are now commonly attributed to ‘Oliver Cromwell and the Puritans.’ This was the favourite incantation of cathedral vergers.

1548. Abolition of blessed candles, ashes, palms, etc. Priests allowed to marry.

1549. First Act of Uniformity: First Prayer Book: substitution of Communion Service for the Mass. This came into use on Whit Sunday, June 9, 1549. There was a rebellion against it in Devon and Cornwall.

1550. New Ordinal in lieu of Catholic Pontifical. This was based on the work of Martin Bucer and it changed the ordination service for priests and consecration service for bishops. The chalice and patten were no longer to be handed to the newly-ordained priest, but merely a Bible. Bucer, moreover, had provided only one rite for bishops, priests and deacons. This is what destroyed the validity of Anglican Orders; these rites professed to give power merely to preach and teach; every word about offering sacrifice was carefully removed.

As soon as Edward VI was King, Cranmer invited into England a crowd of foreign Reformers, most of them of an advanced type. The most prominent were: Martin Bucer (ex-Dominican), made Professor of Divinity at Cambridge; Peter Martyr Vermigli (ex-Austin Canon), made Professor of Divinity at Oxford; Bernardino Ochino (ex-Capuchin); Dryander, a Spanish Lutheran; Jan Utenhove, a Fleming, who became head of the Huguenot congregation at Canterbury; John á Lasco, a Polish Calvinist, who became the minister at Austin Friars. These men had great influence; above all, Bucer. Most of them left the country at once on Mary’s accession, but their influence, which was almost wholly Calvinistic, lasted. The common people were told that they could find nothing in the New Testament about cardinals and bishops, deans and canons, monks and friars—all that was the invention of Satan; the Pope, of course, was Anti-Christ—but they knew that already.

The Catholic bishops were deposed and sent to the Tower. Thus, Bonner (London) was replaced by Ridley; Heath (Worcester) by Hooper; Day (Chichester) by Scory; and Gardiner (Winchester) by Poynet. All these men were extreme Protestants.

Sir John Cheke, the boy-King’s tutor, was explicit about the intentions of the Council: ‘He (i.e. the King) has overthrown idolatry, abolished the Mass, and destroyed every kind of superstition.’

Cranmer’s Book of Homilies explicitly sets out the doctrine of Justification by Faith alone (a cardinal tenet of the Reformer) as ‘a most certain and wholesome doctrine for Christian men.’

1552. The Forty-Two Protestant Articles of Religion were much more Protestant than even the Second Prayer Book.

In the Second Prayer Book, which was very different from the First, Morning and Evening Prayers were the principal Services. The Ten Commandments were added to the Communion Service. All vestments were abolished except the surplice. The so-called Black Rubric was inserted, stating that kneeling at the reception of Communion denoted only respect, not adoration.

In the Second Act of Uniformity (5 & 6 Edw. VI cap. 1) a table was substituted for the Altar; the celebrant was to stand on the north side of it, i.e., not as in the Mass, with his back to the congregation, but so that the people could see all he did. The use of English was imposed for the same reason, viz., to emphasize the change.

1553. By this time there had been seventeen editions of Tyndale’s New Testament, full of anti-Catholic notes and intentional mistranslations^5. It was this book that Henry VIII had described as ‘false, crafty and malicious.’ It was supplemented by the publication of numerous and violent attacks on the Mass and the doctrine of Transubstantiation, e.g., Ochino’s Usurped Primacy of the Bishops of Rome, etc.

MARY (1553–1558)

1553. July 6: Death of Edward VI. When he was dying, John Dudley, the Duke of Northumberland, obtained his signature to Letters-Patent, transmitting the Crown to Lady Jane Grey (Northumberland’s daughter-in-law), a descendant of Henry VII. This was signed by Cranmer and Ridley (Bishop of London). July 10: Northumberland proclaimed Lady Jane but the country rallied to Mary. November 13: Cranmer was tried for treason along with Lord Guildford Dudley; sentenced, but reprieved and imprisoned in the Tower; Ridley was likewise sent to the Tower.

In the same year (1553) Catholicism was officially restored. All the Edwardine ecclesiastical legislation was annulled.

1554. November 30: England was formally reconciled to the Holy See by the legate, Cardinal Pole.

1555. Repeal of Henry’s Reform Statutes from 1529. All Statutes against the Holy See since 1529 were annulled. Monastic property, however, was not to be restored, the purchasers under Henry VIII and present owners being explicitly confirmed in possession. This House of Commons was far from being unanimously Catholic and was somewhat anti-papal. According to Professor Sir J. E. Neale, more than sixty of them were convinced Protestants.

In the same year (1555) Parliament re-enacted the old Statute (1401) for the burning of heretics. Cranmer, Ridley, Latimer and many others, 273 in all, suffered under these laws. The prime movers in this campaign of persecution 5E.g., priest as elder; church as congregation; grace as favour; images as idols. were certainly the lay members of the Council. Mary herself declared that she was not desirous of ‘punishing ignorant people who had been misled’; but nobody was prepared to oppose what was understood to be the will of the Government.

1556. March 21: Cranmer burned at Oxford. Cardinal Pole thereupon became Archbishop of Canterbury. He was the last Catholic primate. His successor Matthew Parker, chosen by Elizabeth, was as much a Protestant as Cranmer Elizabeth’s bishops were all Calvinist in doctrine.

1558. November 17: Death of Mary and Cardinal Pole on the same day. During this year seven bishops died. On January 2, 1559, nine sees were vacant. But for this fact Elizabeth’s Act of Uniformity would have been defeated in the House of Lords. It passed by only three votes.

ELIZABETH I (1558–1603)

ELIZABETH plainly intended to have less of continental Protestantism and more Royal Supremacy, but throughout her long reign she had to fight a losing battle with the growing forces of Puritanism. The extreme Reforming element was not so much weakened by the prompt departure of the continental Protestants brought in by Cranmer as it was strengthened by the return to England from Switzerland and Germany of the ‘Marian exiles,’ who had carefully maintained contact with their friends here.

The two famous Statutes of Elizabeth, the Acts of Uniformity and Supremacy (1559), put her back, legally, into the position of Henry VIII.

The Act of Supremacy (1 Eliz. cap. 1): “An Act restoring to the Crown the Ancient Jurisdiction over the Estate Ecclesiastical and Spiritual and abolishing all Foreign Powers repugnant to the same.”

The Third Act of Uniformity (1 Eliz. cap. 2): “An Act for the Uniformity of Common Prayer and Service in the Church and the Administration of the Sacraments.” This Act decreed that the Second Prayer Book^6 of Edward VI was to be used as from St John Baptist’s Day (June 24), 1559. All people had to attend Common Prayer under penalties.

The ecclesiastical legislation of Mary’s reign was all repealed and that of Henry VIII and Edward VI re-enacted, with one exception: marriage of the clergy was still unlawful until the Act of James I (1603–4: cap. 25, section 8). Meanwhile, the marriage of the clergy was allowed, by Royal prerogative, under conditions.

Note the complete ‘line of cleavage’ established in Elizabeth’s first year (1558–9). The Act of Supremacy finally repudiated the Pope’s jurisdiction. The Act of Uniformity abolished the Mass, Missal and Pontifical; it readopted the Book of Common Prayer and the Edwardine Ordinal, and so completely severed England from the Catholic Church.

The Form of the Oath, “I, A.B., do utterly testify and declare in my conscience that the Queen’s Highness is the only Supreme Governor in this realm . . . as well in all spiritual or ecclesiastical things or causes as temporal: and that no foreign prince or potentate, person, prelate, state, has or ought to have any jurisdiction, power, superiority, preeminence or authority, ecclesiastical or spiritual, within this realm; and therefore I do utterly renounce and forsake all foreign jurisdictions, powers, superiorities and authorities,” almost emptied Oxford and resulted in the emigration of Catholic scholars and dons to Louvain.

Among the Catholic exiles to the Low Countries were Allen, Stapleton, Harding, Campion, Persons, Gregory Martin. These were the real literary successors of Sir Thomas More. Between 1559 and 1603 they brought out more than two hundred works of English prose, including the translation of the Bible, but to bring these books into England meant death to the importers (23 Eliz. cap. 2).

Further destruction of statues,7 windows and ornaments in churches took place under Royal Injunctions, e.g., the altar stones were put in the floor of church porches to signify the abolition of ‘idolatry.’

Under the Act of Uniformity the following penalties for non-use of the Protestant Prayer Book were enforced:

Laity.-Absence from parish church on Sunday: progressive fines.

Clergy.-Fine for first offence; deprived for the second; life imprisonment for the third. (Any priest who after June 24, 1559, said Mass according to the rites of the Catholic Church was, for the first offence, fined one year’s income of his benefice and got six months’ imprisonment; for second offence, imprisoned for one year and deprived of all spiritual promotion; for third, imprisoned for life.)

6Schedule of this Act.7The Lady Chapel of Ely Cathedral is an eloquent witness of reforming zeal.

A first refusal of the Oath of Supremacy meant loss of all offices and lifelong disablement from all offices. For laity who denounced or hindered Prayer Book services the fines were enormous: 100 or 400 marks; for third offence, Praemunire.

To enforce the Act of Supremacy the Court of High Commission (described by Cecil himself as a sort of Protestant Inquisition) was appointed. This was subsequently used to persecute Puritan nonconformists who objected to the Prayer Book and ‘ornaments.’

Between June and November 1559, sixteen bishops were deprived of their sees, because they would not conform to these changes. Kitchin of Llandaff was reinstated on taking the oath.

Within one year of her accession the Elizabethan government had got rid of the whole Marian episcopate, except Kitchin. Seven were put into the Tower: Heath, Thirlby, White, Pate, Watson, Bourne and Turberville. [Pate (1565) and Heath (1578) died in the Tower.] It is therefore false to say that the Catholic bishops were merely deprived and not otherwise molested. All who did not escape abroad spent the rest of their lives in custody. They had all refused to consecrate Parker. Elizabeth eventually got Barlow, Hodgkin, Scory and Coverdale, of whom three had not been properly consecrated themselves, to act on December 17, 1559. They had no intention of conferring Catholic Orders because they had no belief in them. (Barlow had publicly proclaimed his unbelief in orders.)

In 1561 Elizabeth rejected the invitation to send representatives to the Council of Trent.

Elizabeth wished to go back, in the main, to the system of her father- ‘Religion to be as in King Henry’s time’- but found she was unable to do so. She had been welcomed to the throne and supported on it by a band of strong Protestants headed by Cecil. She represented Protestantism in her own person, as the daughter of Anne Boleyn. The extreme Protestant element was too strong for her. That is why she disliked and despised her own bishops (except Matthew Parker). She despised them for their bigotry, their want of learning, their undignified mode of life, and, in many cases, unsuitable marriages. (She detested the idea of married clergy, anyhow.) What she wanted was no religious fanaticism (she had virtually no religious beliefs herself), uniformity, decorum (copes and surplices, crucifix and candles), external conformity under Royal Supremacy. But she never got it: and as her reign lengthened, matters got worse. Before it was over, she was persecuting the Puritan fanatics. Her Established Religion, divided between a few moderate and many extreme Protestants, was stricken with deep disunion from its commencement.

Elizabeth was well aware that Calvinism was also theocratic republicanism, that its ministers held that the State should be subject to their admonition; she knew that Calvinism had already produced armed rebellion and open war in three countries. She actually regarded the Catholics as more loyal politically to herself than the Puritan extremists, and she said so. “I will tell you,” said Edwin Sandys, Archbishop of York, to one John Wilson on January 15, 1587, “what the Queen’s Majesty said, that these Puritans were greater enemies to her than the Papists.” In 1586–87 there was actually an attempted Puritan revolution: Wentworth and others in the House of Commons proposed the adoption of the Genevan Prayer Book, and the abolition of all laws, customs and ordinances affecting Church Services, ecclesiastical courts and episcopal jurisdiction; in short, a clean sweep of Elizabeth’s Established Church.

It is false to say that Catholics were not molested by Elizabeth’s government until the Rebellion of 1569–70. Their religion was made illegal at the outset, as shown above. No Catholic was put to death before January 4, 1570; but he was unmolested only if he would submit to the complete cessation of Catholic worship and teaching for himself and his children; if he would attend two Protestant Services every Sunday; and if he would for life abandon all hope of any office, position, or profession.

ACTIVE PERSECUTION

Active persecution really started with the Act of 1563 which was officially described as “The Bill against those that extol the power of the Bishop of Rome and refuse the Oath of Allegiance.” It increased the penalties of the Act of 1559 and extended the obligation to take the Oath of Supremacy.

It is also false to say that the persecution was confined to priests. Under the later Statutes, 62 lay folk were put to death and many died in prison. To harbour a priest was felony, and some were hanged for that alone. Thousands were ruined by heavy fines and long imprisonment. The fine for non-attendance at church was increased from the twelve pence of 1559 to £20 per lunar month in 1581. Many families of Catholic gentry were thus reduced to the lowest level of subsistence. Others left England for ever.

In 1563 the Act of Assurance (5 Eliz. cap. 1) imposed the Oath of Supremacy on all but Peers. (For first refusal, the penalties of Praemunire; second refusal, High Treason.)

In 1563–4 the Thirty-Eight Articles of Religion were made the standard of doctrine instead of Edward VI’s FortyTwo. (See page 14.)

In 1565 (8 Eliz. cap. 1) an Act declared the making and consecrating of Archbishops and Bishops of this realm, ‘good, lawful and perfect.’

In 1568 Allen founded the Douay College for the English Mission.

In November-December, 1569, a rising of Catholics in Northern Counties, headed by the Earls of Northumberland and Westmorland, was easily defeated.

In 1570 Pope Pius V issued a Bull of Deposition and Excommunication against Elizabeth. This, coming after the suppression of the Northern Rebellion, had no other effect than to aggravate the difficulties of English Catholics, then and long after.

In 1571 an Act (13 Eliz. cap. 1 and 2) made it treason to call the Queen a tyrant, a heretic, usurper, etc., and to introduce Papal Bulls into England. In the same year (1571) came the Thirty-Nine Articles. (Revision of the Prayer Book and Ordinal, 1661.)

The persecution to death for all priests and for any converts started in 1581. The Act (23 Eliz. cap. 1) made it High Treason to reconcile or to be reconciled to ‘the Romish Religion.’ Mass was forbidden in private houses. It was treason to print or circulate books agianst Queen Elizabeth (23 Eliz. cap. 2).

In 1585 the Act against Jesuits, Seminary Priests and other suchlike disobedient persons (27 Eliz. cap. 2) made it High Treason to be a priest within the Queen’s dominions, and felony for anyone to receive or relieve a priest. Nearly all the martyrs of the next hundred years were condemned under this Statute.

In 1593 an Act (35 Eliz. cap. 2) was passed, “for the better discovery of wicked and seditious persons calling themselves Catholics, but being rebellious and traitorous subjects.”

[These penal laws were confirmed by James I (1 Jas. I, cap. 4): an Act for the due execution of Statutes against the Jesuits, seminary priests, etc.]

Of the 127 priests 94 were put to death in the reign of Elizabeth solely because they were priests ordained abroad since June 24, 1559, and had returned to England. Of the 62 lay people, 31 were put to death for harbouring or rescuing priests, 9 for denial of the Supremacy, 3 for printing or circulating Catholic books, and 7 simply for being ‘reconciled.’ There was however this difference: Henry VIII’s savagery fell upon individuals: 45 clerics and 5 lay people. Under Edward VI, the activities of the governing clique were concentrated on plunder, not on persecution; they were indifferent to conformity and there were no martyrs. Under Elizabeth, the aim was the extirpation of Catholicism during her lifetime. The result was the extinction of numerous families by execution, imprisonment, fines leading to beggary, and exile. Whole classes of people were thus eliminated. This was not the personal policy of the Queen, but of Cecil, Walsingham and her ministers and of a large majority of the House of Commons.

The Elizabethan Protestants knew nothing about ‘Continuity’ with the pre-Reformation Church. Preaching before Elizabeth herself, Jewel, Bishop of Salisbury, said: “The poor people lieth forsaken and left as it were sheep without a guide . . . they are commanded to change their religion . . .” Cox of Ely, likewise, said that “the religion of Christ was now restored” and that “traditions are, for the most part, mere blasphemies.” Fletcher, the son of a Bishop of London, coined the phrase hocus pocus (a travesty of Hoc est Corpus) in derision of the Mass. “Not the simplest and most ignorant papist,” said Whitgift, “could mistake the Communion for the Mass.” But, very soon, they began to denounce the private judgment of the unlearned and their ‘fantastical opinions.’ Bancroft, Bishop of London, in 1589 used language very similar to that of Sir Thomas More sixty years earlier.

The curious thing was that all these people held firmly that heresy was the worst of all crimes and worthy of death; only what they believed was never heresy. Cranmer’s Reformatio Legum Ecclesiasticarum (never enacted) proposed the death penalty for ‘heresy,’ i.e., for what he and his associates considered to be heresy.

Cecil took care not to say, when defending the persecution, that any man was put to death for believing in Transubstantiation or acknowledging the spiritual jurisdiction of the Pope, or for saying Mass—though in fact they were. It was always for ‘withdrawal of allegiance,’ or ‘compassing the Queen’s death,’ or ‘adhering to her enemies,’ and so forth. But in the case of the first missionary priest martyred in her reign, Cuthbert Mayne (November 30, 1577), “the only charge,” said Hallam,8 “was his religion.” The actual counts of the indictment were: (1) possessing a copy of the Jubilee Bull of 1575; (2) publishing it; (3) upholding the ecclesiastical authority of the Pope; (4) bringing into the country an object blessed by the Pope, to wit, an Agnus Dei; (5) giving it to another person; (6) saying Mass.

All that was years before the ‘Jesuit invasion’ (1581), or the Armada (1588). In a number of cases the priest was offered his life, at the foot of the gallows, if he would go to church: after he had been convicted and sentenced for ‘treasonable practices’ connected with rebellion and foreign invasion!

The missionary priests knew very little about Guise or Parma, and politics were rigidly excluded from their training at Douay.

In 1583 Burghley, to parry the general accusation that people were being put to death simply for being Catholics, invented the question: “What would you do if a Papal or Spanish army landed in England ?” A presumption against the priest was thereby created—before the trial- by his answer (or his refusal to answer) a hypothetical question. Before that, he had relied upon: “What do you think of the Pope’s authority to depose the Queen ?” Conversion was thus identified with withdrawal of allegiance, and the accused (clerical or lay) was ‘prejudiced’ before he was tried, as a conspirator or potential assassin.

THE AFTERMATH

FINALLY, it should be noted that the Arminian-Anglican movement by Lancelot Andrewes, Laud, and others, towards ‘High Church’ doctrines and practices, was essentially an innovation, and as such it was violently resented by the Puritan majority. It was the Caroline divines who imagined a ‘Bridge Church’ to span the gap between Rome and Geneva. No such views had been held by Elizabeth, let alone her father. Meanwhile, Lutheranism faded away, and the middle years of the seventeenth century, 1640–1660, beheld the ruinous triumph of Calvinism.

Two supreme benefits were claimed for the Reformation: ‘direct access to God’ without the intervention of any ecclesiastical organization, and the abolition of the ‘unscriptural’ authority of the Roman Pontiff. What actually resulted was that, after rebellions and conspiracies, persecutions and civil wars, men everywhere found they were not free to worship as they pleased but were required to profess the religion of the ruler (or the ruling group) of the territory they lived in. In England the famous phrase of Magna Carta, quod Ecclesia Anglicana sit libera (the Church in England is to be free) has been sedulously misinterpreted. Sir Thomas More, who quoted it at his trial, meant by it exactly what Stephen Langton meant at Runnymede: that the Church in this country, as part of the Church Universal, was not under the control of the King.

8Hallam wrote in 1827, long before modern historical research, when England was strongly Protestant.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

Roman Canon Law in the Church of England, by F. W. Maitland. 1898. The Reformation in England, by Philip

Hughes. I, II, III. 1950,53,54. Sir Thomas More, by R. W. Chambers. 1935.

History of England from 1485–1547, by H. A. L. Fisher. 1913. English Church in the Sixteenth Century, by J.

Gairdner. 1904. England under the Tudors, by G. R. Elton. 1955.

Henry VIII and the English Monasteries, by A. Gasquet. 1902. English Monasteries on the Eve of the Dissolution, by A. Savine. 1909.

Edward VI and the Book of Common Prayer, by A. Gasquet and E. Bishop. 1891.

Mary Tudor, by H. F. M. Prescott. 1953.

Cranmer and the Reformation under Edward VI, by C. H. Smyth. 1926. The Elizabethan Religious Settlement, by

Dom N. Birt O.S.B. 1907.

England and the Catholic Church under Queen Elizabeth, by A. 0. Meyer. 1916.

Elizabeth and Her Parliaments: I (1559–1581); II (1584–1601), by J. E. Neale. 1953 and 1957. The Babington Plot, by A. Gordon Smith. 1936. The Religious Orders in England. Vol. III.

The Tudor Age, by Dom David Knowles. 1959.

Economic Problems of the Church from Archbishop Whitgift to the Long Parliament, by C. Hill. 1957. The English Catholics in the Reign of Queen Elizabeth, by J. H. Pollen S.J. 1920.

Eucharistic Sacrifice and the Reformation, by Francis Clark S.J. 1960. Anglican Orders and Defect of Intention, by

Francis Clark S.J. 1956. The Catholic Church and Anglican Orders, by Francis Clark S.J. 1962.

The Religious And Moral Training of Children

OR CHRISTIAN EDUCATION IN THE CATHOLIC HOME

INDEX

ADVICE TO PARENTS

The direct purpose of the Fourth Commandment is to lay down the duties of children to their parents. But indirectly and implicitly we must understand from it that parents have duties to their children. These duties are divided into two classes. The first class has to do with the bodily and civil education of the child, to fit it for its position in the present life; the second class has to do with the moral and religious education of the child, to fit it for its position in the life to come.

THE DUTY OF PARENTS

The duty of providing for off-spring until they are able to provide for themselves is dictated by nature itself, and even the brutes fulfil it. Yet there are in the world fathers so unnatural that they think only of themselves; they deny themselves nothing; they satisfy all their desires; and they leave their children hungry and half-naked. Undoubtedly there are fathers in nearly every community who spend in folly the money that should be used to buy what is necessary for their children. It may be only a quarter or a half-dollar spent now and again; but these little sums quickly run up to many dollars, perhaps a hundred dollars in the course of the year, and all this time their children are staying away from school, from catechism, and from Mass on Sunday, because they have not clothes or shoes which that money would provide for them.

THE TRUE CATHOLIC

How often a head of a family will say that he does his best but he cannot keep his children properly clothed. Before he was married, however, he was wasting the money which he should have been saving up with a view to getting married. He is reaping now the folly of his youth. Still worse is the case of those parents who through idleness and lazy habits, have become unable to provide for the wants of their families.

The duty of providing for the children imposes on the parents. the obligation of preserving them as far as they are able from all that can injure their bodily health.

THE CARE OF CHILDREN

Many children grow up weak and sickly because their parents have not taken proper care of them, have not given them proper food, or perhaps even have ill-used them. But while taking proper care of their bodily health, they should not go to the other extreme and be over-anxious and over-careful about them. For in this way they are likely to make them grow up soft, delicate, unable to endure any hardships, unable or unwilling to work. All children should be brought up to habits of industry; they should be taught from early years that they must not be idle; that idlers are no use to themselves nor to anyone else. Even if parents are rich, they should still bring their children up to some employment.

EARLY EDUCATION AND HABITS OF INDUSTRY

Going to school should be the chief employment of children up to the age of fourteen or fifteen. But during the hours which remain after school they should be taught to make themselves useful. It is a great shame to see women who are splendid house-keepers, with daughters who know nothing at all about house-keeping.

These women know how to do things so well themselves, and are so anxious to have them done well, that they cannot bear to have their daughters making experiments, which in the beginning of course, means a good many mistakes and a good many failures.

Again there are foolish mothers who will wear their fingers to the bone that their daughters may have soft white hands. MISTAKES OF MOTHERS.

Mothers are committing a very great mistake, and worse than a mistake, when they do not teach their daughters all that they know themselves about house-keeping. A girl that is a perfect mistress of plain cooking and plain sewing is far better equipped to be mistress of her own house than if she could play two or three instruments and sing in two or three languages.

But first of all, in the natural order, parents should teach their boys and girls habits of cleanliness, order, neatness and carefulness. This means that parents should be cleanly, orderly, neat and careful themselves, and that they should bid their children to follow their example.

PROVIDE FOR YOUR CHILDREN

It is your duty to provide for your children; and you cannot provide for them as you should, unless you keep your affairs in order and practice: economy in your expenditure.

Those parents, then, are guilty, who, through their wasteful and improvident habits, do not keep their expenses in proper proportion to their earnings, so as to be able to lay something by for a rainy day. Those parents are guilty who neglect their work and thereby make their families suffer. But much more guilty are those who spend what they earn in foolish or in sinful amusement, and, instead of supporting their families burden them with debt.

This means, of course, that parents must lead a life of sacrifice for the sake of their children, and must deny themselves a great many things which it would be lawful for them to have if they were unmarried. But when they were getting married, they knew the obligations which they were assuming; they took the burden willingly upon them; and now they should cheerfully bear it.

All this has reference merely to the bodily education of your children, the education which will fit them for the position they are to fill in this life.

THE TRUE CATHOLIC. CHOOSING A VOCATION IN LIFE

The choice or a state of life, however, MUST be made by themselves. You may advise them; and it is their duty to listen to your advice with all respect. But you have no authority to tell them, for instance, that they must get married, or remain single; that they must or must not enter the priesthood or the convent. If you tell them this, they are not bound to obey you.

When they enter into a certain state of life, it is they, not you, who will have to bear the burdens of that state; therefore, it is they, not you, who must choose the state whose burdens they have to bear.

You have no right to command in this matter. But you have a right to direct and guide your children in the choice of a state of life, and you should do so. If you watch them closely, you will know their abilities sooner than they will themselves; you will even know their likes and dislikes before they have realized them themselves. You may be able to suspect what are the designs of God in regard to them; and then it will be your duty to do all in your power to help them realize these designs.

As soon as they express any inclination for a certain state of life, you should examine this inclination for them, and try to find out their reasons for wishing to enter that state, showing them the obligations, the consequences, the dangers of the course they wish to take. If you know that the choice is a bad one in itself, or that your children are not fit for the position they are inclined to choose, it is your duty to do all in your power to persuade them not to make this choice.

You cannot command in this matter, but it is your duty to advise; and if through want of your advice and direction your children make a bad choice, God will not hold you guiltless.

THE SPIRITUAL WELFARE OF CHILDREN

There are comparatively few parents who do not pay attention to the bodily welfare of their children; but there is a vast number who pay little or no attention to their spiritual welfare.

Yet this is the all-important thing. So long as God leaves your children with you, they are only a deposit in trust; He commits them for a while to your care, so that as you were the instruments in His hand of bringing them into this world, so you may also be the instruments of bringing them to eternal happiness.

Our Lord instituted the Sacrament of Matrimony “to enable the husband and wife to live happily together and to bring up their children in the fear and love of God.” The Lord made Christian marriage indissoluble, that the parents always living together might constantly work together in the Christian education of their children.

If your children do not succeed in this world; if they are not distinguished by talent, by riches, by dignity; this makes no difference, provided that in the end they save their souls. And the salvation of their souls depends to a very great extent on the Christian education which you give them. In order to give them this education, you must instruct them, watch over them, correct them, give them good example.

EARLY RELIGIOUS TRAINING

This instruction is given by teaching them the principles of Christianity and training them to habits of piety. In the first place you must teach them the Lord’s Prayer, the Hail Mary, the Apostles’ Creed, the Ten Commandments, explaining these in a manner which suits their age. To make them learn these by heart without giving them any explanation, is like giving hard bread to a child that has not yet cut its teeth. According as their minds develop, you must explain to them, as best you can, the fundamental truths of religion.

Let them know that God created them to know Him, love Him, and serve Him; that they are to remain here only for a time; that there is another life, a happy one or an unhappy one, which is to last forever.

Tell them about the soul” that is in them; that, though they cannot see it, it is far more precious than the body which they can see.

Tell them about the state that soul was in when they were born; how they were delivered from that state through the merits of Jesus Christ, who came down from heaven, was born in a stable and died on a cross to save sinners; how these merits have been applied to their souls in baptism; what promises were made in their name at that time, and how they must keep those promises.

Tell them that they must pray to God every day, since it is from God that all good things come; that they should ask Him for what they need, and thank Him for everything He gives them.

“And have we got to teach our children all that?” some parents will say. Yes, you have. “Can’t we leave it to the catechism teachers and the priest?” No, you cannot ; and it is a great mistake for you to think you can.

YOUR DUTY AS PARENTS

The duty falls on you in the first place; you may get the priest or the catechism teachers to help you; but you must not throw the work entirely on their shoulders. No one else can do the work as well as you can, because no one else has so much authority over your children; no one else has so many chances to teach them. The little lessons that you can give them now and then, even while you are doing your housework, are worth more to them than long instructions given them by others.

IGNORANCE OF PARENTS A POOR EXCUSE

“Well,” a good many parents will say, “I would be quite willing to instruct my children, if I were able. But I never was very well instructed myself ; I don’t know enough to instruct them.” That is not a good excuse.

Suppose a ship goes ashore and becomes a total wreck, with the loss of the crew, and the captain explains it to the owners by saying, “I don’t understand navigation.” Do you think they would take that for an excuse! Would they not say to him: “You don’t understand navigation, and yet you took charge of a ship! Why then you have committed a crime; you are a robber and a murderer!”

YOUR RESPONSIBILITY AS PARENTS

When you got married, Christian parents, you freely and deliberately took upon yourselves all the responsibilities of married life. One of these was the Christian education of such children as God might give you. If you, knowing you were not able to instruct children, took on yourselves the responsibilities of parents, you committed a grievous sin, a sin which may cause the loss of your children’s souls, and which will certainly cause the loss of your own soul, unless you begin at this very hour to repair the mischief as far as may be in your power.

If you are ignorant of the fundamental truths of the Christian religion, that would be a sin for you even if you never had children; but if your ignorance prevents you from instructing your children, it is a double sin, because it is your bounden duty to instruct them. If you have not the necessary knowledge, you must try to acquire it, and in the meantime provide good books and take care to send your children to the catechism class; for, if you cannot instruct them yourselves, you must get someone else to do it. It is because this instruction is so often neglected, that so many children turn out badly.

To teach the principles of religion to your children is not enough, however. It is your duty to train them to habits of piety; it is your duty to mould their characters.

THE CHARACTER OF A CHILD IS LIKE WAX

The character of a little child is like a piece of soft wax which may be moulded into any shape; but you must begin to mould it in time.

Even babes notice things long before they can speak; then let them notice the reverent way in which you speak of God our Father in heaven, and of Jesus Christ our Savior. Let them notice the terms of praise in which you speak of anything that is right and good, and the signs of abhorrence which you show for everything that is wrong and wicked.

Point upwards to heaven, and tell them that there is where good people go to be happy forever; point downwards and tell them of the dreadful fire in which the Wicked will burn forever. Show them the crucifix and a picture of the Blessed Virgin, and let them kiss them with reverence. Fold their hands in prayer; teach them to make the sign of the cross; do all this even before they are able to walk; and when they do begin to speak, let the names of Jesus and Mary be the first you teach them, and let the first coherent words they utter be a prayer.

When your children get a little older, you are to explain things more fully to them, telling them that God made the world and all that is in it, and how we are bound to serve Him. Especially, you should impress upon them that God is everywhere; that He sees everything we do and hears everything we say; that we cannot hide anything from Him. There is nothing better calculated to keep them from sin.

Try to stir up in their hearts a personal love for our Lord; teach them to look to the Blessed Virgin as their mother in heaven; teach them to have proper respect for sacred places and things. Try to inspire them with a great hatred of sin, especially of the sins most common to children, lying, stubborness, bad temper, greediness, laziness.

TELL THEM A TRUE STORY

This does not mean that you are to be continually preaching to them; far from it. A word now and again, a bit of advice; even when they ask you to tell them a story, you can turn this to profit, and take occasion to tell them a true story, the story of Jesus and His love, the story of His blessed mother and stories of the saints, and thus little by little you will sow the good seed in their hearts.

Of course you must see to it, that, as soon as they are able, they say their prayers morning and evening. When children come to the age of seven or eight without knowing even the Lord’s Prayer, or the Hail Mary, the parents of those children are certainly guilty of mortal sin.

The first lessons in the catechism should be given by yourselves and even when they are attending the catechism classes, you should examine them; then you should instruct them for confession, and afterwards bring them to confession. At the same time you must take care not to overburden them with religious practices; be satisfied with a little, but see that they do that little well. A few prayers well said are better than many prayers badly said.

AS THE TWIG IS BENT THE TREE WILL GROW

But just as you cannot teach your children the principles of religion if you do not know them yourselves, so you cannot train them to habits of piety if you are not pious yourselves. It is all important, therefore, that you should lead truly Christian lives, not only for your own souls’ sake, but for the sake of the souls of your children.

“As the twig is bent the tree will grow,” is an old proverb. The same idea is expressed in the words of the Holy Scripture: “A young man according to his way, even when he is old, he will not depart from it.”

It cannot he said that children who have been well brought up never go wrong; but this can be said, that in the great majority of cases such children come out right in the end. They may have wandered from their father’s house, but they know that house well, they love it still in their hearts, and they know the road by which they can return to it. Then when misfortune or disgrace, or sickness comes upon them, they say with the Prodigal of the Gospel: “I will arise and go to my Father.” So we never despair of a sinner who has received a sound Christian education.

IGNORANCE HAND IN HAND WITH BAD HABITS

But if ignorance goes hand in hand with bad habits and vices, ignorance of the fundamental principles of religion, ignorance of the most important duties of a Christian, it may well be said that there is no remedy for the evil. It is a hopeless case; and for this the parents are chiefly responsible, and will be held responsible at the Day of Judgment.

After having done your duty to your children in the matter of instruction, you must not forget that they are children of Adam, that they have been conceived in sin, and that, although this sin has been washed away in baptism, its consequences remain, and one of those consequences is an inclination to evil. It is your duty to counteract this inclination to evil as far as may be in your power, by watching over your children and correcting them.

You must watch over your children to keep them from learning to do wrong; you must correct them to make them stop doing wrong. But an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure, watchfulness is much better than correction. Yet of all the duties of parents, watching over their children is the one which is most neglected.

“I always thought my children were so good,” we hear many a poor father or mother say, “and I never knew the difference till it was too late. If I had known it sooner, I would have remedied the evil.”

No, they did not know it, that is very true. But why did they not know it? Should they not have known it? What pains did they take to get information on the subject?

Truly, it is a strange thing, says St. Jerome, addressing himself to parents, that you are the last to know of the bad conduct of your children. Everyone else knows; the whole neighborhood is talking of it; and you do not even suspect that anything is wrong. This could not happen if you were even the least bit watchful. It could only happen when you shut your eyes and ears.

It is your duty to be watchful, and if you neglect this duty you are guilty of grievous sin.

STUDY THEIR CHARACTERS AND INCLINATIONS

You must study the characters and inclinations of your children ; you must keep them out of danger; you must keep an eye on their conduct. You must notice the first signs of any evil passion and Check it at once. Even a very young child will show whether he is inclined to be bad-tempered, spiteful, proud; obstinate, vain. These are the germs of diseases of the soul; if they are allowed to develop, they will kill the soul; but they can easily be destroyed while yet in the germ, and it is the duty of parents to destroy them.

Watch your children, then, in order to break down their self-will, and make them from the beginning thoroughly obedient. It is a great mistake to pass over everything with little ones, under the pretext that they do not understand what they are doing or saying.

It is a great mistake to let these little ones have their own way, in order to keep them in good humor. They should be made to understand that they will never get anything by crying for it. Once they see that they can get what they want in this way, they will have it, and then instead of obeying you they will make you obey them. If you allow them to have their own way for a time,-until they get more sense, as you say,-you need not be surprised to find their self-will grown so strong that you are not able to break it.

WATCH OVER YOUR CHILDREN

Watch them, then, from the start, m order to develop their good and to check their bad inclinations. Watch them, in the second place, to keep them out of danger. It is quite possible that danger may come to their souls through your own imprudence. You must be very careful that you do not scandalize your children yourselves, also that they do not scandalize one another.

Again, you must be very careful not to allow anyone to have charge of them who is not of a thoroughly good character. If children learn bad language and bad conduct from servants, the parents are very often to blame, for you should not employ such servants around your children.

TEACH THEM TO AVOID BAD COMPANY

You should try to know who are your children’s companions, and what kind they are, positively forbidding them to keep bad company.

Encourage your children to talk freely to you about their studies and amusements, asking them questions, and you will learn a great deal that will be useful to you. They will reveal unconsciously what you want to know, and then you can give them advice. If they are going to school, try to make the acquaintance of their teacher, and inquire bow the children behave, What faults the teacher has noticed in them, and so on. The teacher has sometimes better opportunities of observing them than the parents have.

Keep an eye on your children’s conduct at all times, as far as possible. Let them never be far away from you if you can help it, and make it your business always to know where they are. Insist that they shall come straight home after school, and then, if they want to go anywhere, let them ask permission.

PARENTS SHOULD ALWAYS KNOW WHERE THEIR CHILDREN ARE

If you have a horse or a cow, you always know pretty well where they are to be found. Can you say the same of your children! Even at night, when they should all be in the house, many of you do not know where they are. They are running the road somewhere and learning no good, you may depend on that.

This is criminal carelessness on the part of the parents who permit it. The youngsters should never be allowed out after dark, and even with the grown-up ones you should insist that they be in at an early hour. There must be no going to bed and leaving the doors open for them to come in.

How any father or mother can go to sleep with an easy conscience, while their boys and girls are out, and they don’t know where they are, is something hard to understand. You should never allow your girls to go out at night, without a proper escort, and this applies to going to church as well as to going anywhere else. if your girls are going out to service, you should be very particular as to what kind of families they go with.

You should see that they do not neglect their religious duties, and if you find that any attempt is being made to draw them away from their faith, you should put a stop to it immediately. You should never allow them to read a book until you have examined it and satisfied yourself that it is harmless.

If you cannot read, you should get someone else to make this examination for you. And when you are examining a book, try to put yourselves in your children’s place. There may be nothing in the book which would do you any harm, and yet it would be dangerous for your children to read it. Some unwise parents think that their children are all right when they have a book in their hands. “My boys never go out at night; they spend all their time reading.” “Reading what?”

This duty of watchfulness is very difficult and very painful, but nothing will excuse you from it, and you have the grace of the Sacrament of Matrimony given you for the special purpose of helping you to perform your duties as parents,-a grace which may be renewed as often as you receive worthily the Sacrament of Penance. PARENTS SHOULD WORK TOGETHER.

Father and mother must work together in the education of the children ; the husband who throws all the responsibility on his wife is doing very wrong. Whether instructing them, or watching over them, you must share the labor between you. You should not take it for granted that your children are bad, but neither should you take it for granted that they only want wings to make them angels.

The best natural dispositions may be completely destroyed by a bad education, and the worst natural dispositions may be thoroughly corrected by a good education begun in time. Watch your children, then, Christian fathers and mothers, for it is your duty.

And remember, that the best watchers are those who can watch without seeming to watch. It is a tiresome task, and it will be a severe strain upon your energies; but it is also a grand and noble task, and great will be your reward if you perform it well.

BE REASONABLE, BUT NEVER ALLOW DISOBEDIENCE

Never allow them to disobey you, not even in the smallest matter. Be prudent and reasonable in giving your commands, but once they are given, insist that they shall be obeyed. If the command is about a trifling matter, you need not have given it; but since you have given it, you must make your children obey it. And if they get the habit of obeying you in small things, they are not likely to disobey you in more important things.

What a pitiful state of affairs when we see parents begging their children to do something, or perhaps even offering them a reward if they will do it! If you do this, you are encouraging disobedience, putting a premium on it, in fact, since you let your children see that by disobeying you they will gain something.

PARENTS MUST NOT BE INCONSISTENT

You must make a distinction between one fault and another, between the faults which arise merely from levity and those which come from malice. The more grievous the fault, the more severe should be the correction.

And yet there are many parents who will get into a furious rage with their children on account of an accident, a pane of glass broken, for instance, or a jacket torn. And perhaps these same parents will pass over lying, disobedience, cursing, or immodest language in their children with the mildest kind of a reproof, or it may be without any reproof at all.

Now, the children know very well, in spite of all your scolding, that a broken pane of glass or a torn jacket are not very important matters. And surely they must think that, in your estimation at least, lying, disobedience, cursing and immodest language are less important still.

But the slight correction which will do for a docile child will not be enough for a headstrong one. Some children are easily led to do right; others must be driven. You must study the characters and dispositions of your children, in order to know how you should deal with them.

The faults committed by parents in regard to the duty of correction may be set down under three heads: excessive mildness; excessive severity; a combination of the two.

Excessive mildness and indulgence is the fault of those who are so passionately fond of their children that they cannot bear to cause them the least pain or sorrow. They are so afraid of causing them this sorrow by correcting their faults, that they overlook their faults, they leave them unpunished, or perhaps they even go so far as to laugh at their faults.

How often we hear a child give a saucy answer to his father or mother, and the father or mother laugh at it as if it were a good joke. If the boy is headstrong and disobedient, if he is quarrelsome with his young companions, and impudent to older people, his parents pass over all this; perhaps they are even proud of it, for it shows that the lad has a high spirit. Yes, he has the kind of high spirit which makes a splendid street rowdy, the kind of high spirit which may cause him to end his days in the penitentiary or on the scaffold, and which is pretty sure to lose him his soul.

Murder is becoming more and more common. Not one in a hundred murders is committed in cold blood. Ninety-nine out of a hundred are due to bad temper; bad temper which the murderer’s parents would not check when he was a child, because it was only high spirit. How many a good man has been driven to drink by the tongue of a scolding wife. And she first learned to use her tongue in this fashion when she was a young girl. Her father and mother never taught her to control her temper; no, they were proud of her high spirit. What foolish parents! And do you think your children will love you better because you treat them in this criminally indulgent fashion?

Instead of showing your love for your children by not correcting them, you are proving yourselves their deadliest enemies. You are ruining them for this life, and for the next, and you are preparing endless misery for yourselves.

Be mild and just with your children, but be also firm and energetic enough to make yourselves respected. Your children will not love you any the less for it, and they will esteem you a great deal more.

But while avoiding one excess, you must take care not to fall into another which is even more grievous and deplorable, that is the excess of severity.

ILL TREATMENT OF CHILDREN

There are parents so bad tempered that they will tolerate nothing. They cannot say a single word of kindness; they are always scolding or threatening, and their hands are ever ready to strike. There are brutal parents, who, even when they punish with good reason, punish far too severely.

Such harshness as this is altogether unnatural. God has implanted in all creatures a love and tenderness towards their young; and He expects his rational creatures not to root out this affection from their hearts, but to give it a proper direction.

To act in direct opposition to this is to act against nature itself, and must have very serious consequences. It greatly diminishes that affection and regard which children have by nature implanted in them towards their parents; for however strong this may be, if they meet with nothing from their parents but harshness and brutality, this will necessarily cool their love towards them. It has the worst effects upon the children themselves; it breaks their spirit, discourages them from all good, renders all advice useless to them, and makes them leave their parents at the first opportunity, and expose themselves in the cruel world to misery and perdition.

SHOW LOVE AND TENDERNESS TOWARD YOUR CHILDREN

To prevent this, the parents should always show a love and tenderness for their children, never get in a passion with them, but teach them the necessary obedience with all mildness as well as with all firmness, and convince them that correction is given them only for their real good.

The Word of God makes great difference between necessary discipline and harshness: “Father, provoke not your children to indignation, lest they be discouraged,” says St. Paul.

And again, “Fathers, provoke not your children to anger, but bring them up in the discipline and correction of the Lord.” Your correction ought to be the correction of the Lord, that is to say, it should be animated and directed by a real desire for your children’s salvation. It should not be the correction of the devil, inspired by brutal passion which seeks only to ill-treat those who have given offence.

If, when you are correcting your children, you really have nothing else in view except their good, you will easily keep within proper bounds, and go no further than is necessary. And if circumstances require that the punishment should be rigorous, you will let them see that though you are displeased with them, you love them still.

In this way your children will receive correction with advantage, since on the one hand they know perfectly well that they have done wrong, and on the other they will be persuaded that if you chastise them, it is with regret and only for their good.

But in order that your children may be persuaded that the severity which you show them at times comes from your love for them, you must treat them properly in every other respect.

ENCOURAGE YOUR CHILDREN TO DO RIGHT

You must show that you are pleased with them when they are obedient and respectful to you; you must animate and encourage them when they are doing right; you must give them little rewards now and then for their good conduct.

Above all, you must not leave them in want of what is really necessary for them. if you never display your authority except in scolding, threatening and beating them; if you pay no attention to them except when they displease you; if you keep them down like slaves; if you leave them without clothes to wear, while you are wasting your earnings or are too lazy to work; if you neglect your children in this way, you will not win their affection, and without their affection, your correction will do them no good, but make them grow worse through stubborness and contempt. You can do anything with your children if they really love you.

WIN THE LOVE OF YOUR CHILDREN

If you want to win the love of your children, show them that you really love them, not by tolerating what shouldn’t be tolerated, but by the thousand little acts of kindness which good parents find it so easy to perform.

Excessive mildness is one fault; excessive severity another; and, strange to say, we often find the two in the same person. There are parents who, in dealing with their children, follow no other rule than the good or bad humor they happen to be in. One day they will turn the house upside down for nothing at all; another day they will laugh at things which they ought to punish severely.

Sometimes they will pass in the same hour from caresses to blows and from blows to caresses. This is folly, and worse than folly. What authority can you acquire over your children if you act in this way. The manner of rearing children is not a thing to be decided by the humor you happen to be in. It must be regular and systematic.

WIN THE RESPECT OF YOUR CHILDREN

You must have control over yourselves; you must keep your minds well-balanced, if you want to win the respect of your children. We see some parents who can never manage their children either by threats or by tenderness; while others have only to give a sign, a word, a look, and they are obeyed.

The reason of this difference is that the latter class of parents are always even-tempered, never punishing to-day what they laughed at yesterday; they are always gentle, yet always firm; they do not command their children by fits and starts; they govern them in a steady, regular fashion. The former class of parents have not learned how to govern themselves; how then can they expect to govern their children?

CORRECTION IS THE MOST DIFFICULT PART OF EDUCATION

To fulfil this duty properly you need a great deal of discretion and a great deal of prudence; prudence to distinguish one ease from another; prudence to choose the most favorable time and circumstances; prudence to keep within certain limits; so as not to make your children despise you for your indulgence or hate you for your severity.

It is not enough that parents should be good and pious, unless they are prudent as well. There are many good and pious persons who have not a grain of prudence; and therefore there are many good and pious parents who do not know the first thing about bringing up children. The world is surprised to see the children of such good parents turn out so badly; yet there is nothing surprising about it, for goodness will not bring up children properly unless there is prudence with it. On the other hand, we see parents who are not particularly pious succeed very well in bringing up their children; and the reason is because they have good judgment and a great deal of prudence.

“But how are we to get this prudence, if we do not possess it naturally?” you will ask. In the first place, you should always act with a pure intention, for the glory of God and the good of your children’s souls; you should never act hastily, but only after reflection; you should take the advice of others, and not be too much attached to your own opinion.

But above all, you should pray earnestly and fervently to the Father of light, that He would give you the light of His Holy Spirit, that He would give you the wisdom you need. Pray with confidence, and be sure that God who has called you to the task of bringing up children will not refuse the grace which you need for the performance of that task. NEVER CHASTISE A CHILD WHEN YOU ARE ANGRY.

Some parents say they cannot bear to lay a hand on their children unless they lash themselves into a rage. This is precisely the time when you should not inflict punishment of whipping at all, for you are likely to do it too severely, and your children will think you are merely working off your bad temper at their expense. But depriving the child of some pleasure you intended to give it, the sending of an unruly boy supperless to bed, can be carried out without any feeling of anger.

DO NOT SHOW PARTIALITY

Another mistake made through want of prudence is the showing of partiality toward some children. Children differ from one another in character and disposition as they do in looks; and it is quite natural that you should like some of your children better than others because of their more agreeable qualities.

This feeling of preference is not a sin of itself; nevertheless, you must keep it down and not allow it to have any influence with you in your outward government of your children; for it would be a sin of injustice, and a great sin, to show more favor to one than to another simply because one has greater natural gifts than another. Partiality is bad on every side,-bad for those to whom you show favor, because on the one hand you make them disliked by those who are less favored; and on the other hand they spoil them, they become selfish and stubborn, they disobey you readily because they know your foolish fondness will overlook anything they may do. In the end it is more than likely that they will repay you for this foolish fondness by treating you with neglect or even with harshness.

Again, the partiality which you show to some of your children is very bad for the others; for, when they find themselves neglected and despised, their natural love for you will begin to grow cool; when they are corrected by you even with good reason, they will put it all down to your dislike for them; and they will have feelings of jealousy, envy, even hatred for those of their brothers and sisters whom you like best. And so your partiality is laying the foundation for discord and disunion which never will have an end.

But, you will ask, is it not right to show special favor to those who deserve it! Yes, but only to those who really deserve it. You may show special favor to good children, for then the others will see that they have only to be good to be treated with equal favor; but you should never show any special favor to a child on account of their cleverness or good looks, because then the others will see themselves shut out from your favor without any fault of their own, and they will have bitter feelings towards the favored ones and towards their parents. Even when the preference is a just one, you must be careful not to show it in too noticeable a manner. Herein also, if prudence is not used, the consequences may be serious.

FATHER AND MOTHER SHOULD AGREE IN HARMONY

If the father thinks the mother is too soft and easy with the children; if the mother thinks the father is too hard and severe; if you disagree between yourselves as to what ought to be done, and above all, if you are so imprudent as to disagree before your children,-what is the result? The result is that you are despised by your children, and that correction is made impossible, since the children have reason to believe that one of you will protect them when the other wishes to punish them.

It is therefore of the very greatest importance that both parents should be perfectly agreed in the education of their children. Or if you sometimes disagree, discuss the matter in private until you have come to an agreement.

PARENTS SHOULD SET A GOOD EXAMPLE

It is very seldom, of course, that we find parents so wicked as to teach evil to their children directly. In general, no doubt, you are eloquent iu praise of virtue and religion, and desirous of persuading your children that you are really attached to these things. This is all very good. But what will the children think, if they see your actions give the lie to your words! Which are they more likely to follow, your teaching or your example! Do you not know that example is much more powerful than precept! And if this be true of all example, how much more is it true of the example given by parents, whom the children see so constantly, whom they look up to, whom they consider the best models in the world for them to follow in their conduct. Your lives are constantly before your children’s eyes.

YOUR CONDUCT IS THEIR GUIDE

They feel perfectly justified in doing what they see you do.

Since your example has so great an influence upon the conduct of your children, you should understand the importance and the necessity of having that influence a good one. Never an improper word or gesture should escape you before them; your life should be a mirror of virtue and of good Christian conduct. Then your instruction and your correction will have some effect, being supported by your example.

But how can you instruct or correct when your conduct contradicts your words? You may tell your children: “Don’t do as I do, but do as I say;” but if you tell them this, you are simply wasting your breath. It is no use for you to tell your children that they must not neglect their prayers, if they see you get up and begin your work in the morning without bending a knee to God. No use for you to tell them to go to Mass on Sundays, if they see you staying at home without any good reason. No use for you to send them to Confession, if you never or very seldom go yourselves. No use for you to tell them to be truthful, if they hear you telling lies. No use for you to tell them to be honest, if they hear you boasting of how you have cheated your neighbor. No use for you to tell them they must love their neighbor, if they see you quarrelling or hear you talking spitefully or slanderously about people you don’t like. No use for you to tell them not to curse, nor to use improper language, if they hear you cursing whenever anything annoys you, if they hear you using impure language yourselves or laughing at others who use it.

Sad to say, this is the way many parents bring up their children, giving them very good instructions and very bad example.

These are extreme cases, of course, but there are many others wherein parents are guilty of grievous sin in giving bad example to their children. It is a matter for long and careful examination of conscience on the part of every father and mother. Mild and gentle as our Savior usually was when dealing with sinners, the words He used about scandal-givers, and especially about those who give scandal to little children, should make us tremble:

“WHOSOEVER SHALL SCANDALIZE ONE OF THESE LITTLE ONES THAT BELIEVE IN ME, IT WERE BETTER FOR HIM IF A MILLSTONE WERE HANGED ABOUT HIS NECK AND HE WERE CAST INTO THE SEA.”-Math. xviii, 6.

And if this be true of any scandal-giver, with how much greater force does it apply to fathers and mothers whom God has made the natural guardians and protectors of these little ones. He placed them under your care, that you might teach them to know and serve Him here on earth, in order that they might be happy with Him forever in heaven.

LITTLE BROTHERS AND SISTERS

A grown-up son or daughter ought to be of great assistance to their father and mother in looking after little brothers and sisters, and at the same time they will be laying up for themselves a fund of experience on which to draw later on when God calls them to be heads of families. Young men and women should try to take an interest in children, to understand them and sympathize with them. After the grace of God, nothing is a more powerful factor for good in the rearing of children than to have an intelligent interest in them and sympathy with them. And without this the grace of God is powerless, for God wishes His grace to do its work through human instruments.

Every young man and woman should try to fit themselves for the work of education, the work which includes instruction, watchfulness, correction and good example.

MODELS FOR ALL PARENTS

As to you on whom the duty has fallen of performing this work, you must labor to perform it as though everything depended on yourselves alone, and at the same time, you must pray as though nothing at all depended on you. Ask God to show you what you ought to do, and then to give you the grace to do it. Ask Him to prepare your children’s hearts, that they may be ready to receive the good seed you are going to plant therein. Employ the intercession of the Blessed Virgin and St. Joseph, those models for all parents; employ the intercession of the guardian angels and the patron saints of your children.

Having done all this, having worked and having prayed, your mind may be at ease; having done your best, both by your own efforts and by prayer, you need not worry as to whether the result shall be a success or failure. God does not require that you shall succeed; He simply requires that you shall do your duty. And if you have done your duty, whether you succeed or fail, your reward will be the same.

THE HONOR DUE TO PARENTS

One of the most precious gifts which parents can bestow upon their children is a sense of reverence. If the amount of reverence now in the world were reduced, the amount of sin, suffering, misery, and death, would at once visibly increase. Life and happiness are closely connected with reverence for holy persons and holy things. The foundation of this virtue is laid when children can learn to honor their parents. How unfortunate are the children whose parents have little in them that is worthy of reverence! And even when the parents are good, or at least try to be good, they may fail to lay the foundation of reverence in their children. When children are allowed to do as they please, or when they obey only by coaxing and coddling, they may grow up so full of selfishness that there is no room for a sense of reverence in them.

THE FOURTH COMMANDMENT

The Fourth Commandment does not merely say to children: Obey your parents. Obedience is necessary, but not enough. The Commandment says: honor thy father and thy mother. To honor is to fear and love and respect as well as to obey. It is the child’s first exercise in the virtue of reverence. It is a preparation for a life of reverential fear of God. He tells us in Holy Scripture that the practice of the honor due to parents is a condition of long and happy life in this world. He does not say that everyone who fulfils this condition will have a long life, because there are other necessary conditions; but He does imply that the child who has no reverence for parents is on the road to misery and untimely death.

TEACH YOUR CHILD TO BE REVERENT

And the beginning of it in the child is the practice of the honor due to its parents. The parents who do not insist in receiving the honor due them are guilty of a very great injustice to their children. The children who do not learn to revere their parents will scarcely learn to revere God, and are thus unprotected and exposed to the wickedness of the world. And when trouble of mind and weakness of body follow, as they so often do, that is a natural working out of sin against this law: “Honor thy father and thy mother, that it may be well with thee, and that thou mayest be long-lived upon the earth.” But the primitive reverence of the child for its parents needs to be engrafted on to reverence for God at a tender age; else it will not grow. Hence the great usefulness of family prayer, and the need of conducting it with reverence. If the prayer is said in a hurried way, as if in haste to get to the end of it. it will have a had effect on the future lives of the children. Parents should speak of holy persons and holy things in a reverent way.

A reverent use of such words as holy and blessed has a good effect. A mother who says: “Children, it is time for the Holy Rosary,” teaches reverence by using that word holy. And the father who speaks of the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass, teaches reverence.

THE FAMILY IS GOD’S SCHOOL FOR TEACHING

Much more, if the child revere not the father on earth, how can lie revere the Father in Heaven! And in family worship the two kinds of reverence unite and mutually strengthen each other. It is an act of filial reverence to be at home at the hour of family prayer, and an act of reverence for God, to be attentive during the prayer. The union of the two is the seed of a strong and beautiful Christian character.

What we should care to form and preserve in ourselves is the Catholic character, a character as distinct as it is beautiful, and which is entirely built upon the foundation of the Catholic faith.

“HONOR THY FATHER AND THY MOTHER.”

The Duties of Children to their Parents

First, To love them with filial piety, or a true, sincere, and inward affection; to wish them well; to pray for them ; and to help them in their temporal needs.

Second, To pay them honor and respect in thought, word, and deed.

Third, To obey them in all that is not sin.

WHEN CHILDREN INCUR THE DISPLEASURE OF GOD

If they show their parents no signs of love, treat them harshly, or scowl upon them;

Much more if they hate them, curse them (“He that curseth his father or mother, dying, let him die,” Lev. xx. 9) ; if they wish them dead, or win any evil to befall them;

If they provoke them to anger, or cause them trouble, pain, or annoyance; much more if they make their parents sin; If they do not assist them in poverty or affliction; and especially if they do not procure for them, in case of need, the means of receiving the last Sacrament;

If they strike their parents-a crime which God ordered to be punished with death (Exod. xxi. 13). If they threaten them, treat them with contempt, or expose their sins or failings without grave and serious reason; If, through pride, they despise their parents as poor and uneducated, or refuse to recognize them, or publicly ridicule them;

If, before they are men or women, and as long as they are under their parents’ authority, they refuse to obey them, either in matters of morals, or of religion, or of household arrangements; for instance,—If they go into company, or seek amusement, to which their parents object; or if, against their parents’ will, they endanger their morals or their good name, by company-keeping, especially late at night, or at any unreasonable times or places;

If, against their parents’ command, they neglect Mass, the Sacraments, or other religious duties;

If at school, or during hours of study, they waste their time, and so put their parents or others to useless expense;

If by disobedience to their parents’ commands, they in any way endanger the good order or the peace of their families;

And, generally, if they engage to be married without their parents’ knowledge and consent.

With respect to sins of disobedience, however, three things must be observed—First, That parents must not be obeyed if they command anything sinful;

Second, That they need not be obeyed if they command anything grossly unreasonable, as, for instance, if they command a child to marry where there is no affection, or not to marry where there is no reasonable ground of objection; and

Third, That in order to make disobedience a grave sin, there must be an unmistakable command, and not merely persuasion or desire, on the part of the parent.

LESSONS ON INFANCY AND YOUTH

QUOTATIONS FROM HOLY SCRIPTURE

“And they brought to Him young children, that He might touch them: And the disciples rebuked them that brought them. -Mark, 16:13.

“Whom when Jesus saw, He saith to them: Suffer the little children to come unto me, and forbid them not; for of such is the kingdom of God.”-St. Mark, 10:14.

“Amen I say to you, whosoever shall not receive the kingdom or God as a little child, shall not enter into it.” St. Luke,

18:17.

“And embracing them and laying His hands upon them, He blessed them.”-St. Mark, 10:16.

From my infancy mercy grew up with me.-Job, 31:18

Out of the mouths of infants and of sucklings, thou hast perfected praise.-Ps. 5: 3.

I am poor and in labors from my youth: and being exalted have been humbled and troubled.-Ps. 87:16 Unless you become as little children, you shall not enter into the kingdom of heaven.-Matt. 18: 3. Whosoever shall humble himself as a little child, he is the greater in the kingdom of heaven.-Matt. 18: 4. After they had performed all things according to the law of the Lord, they returned into Galilee, to their city Nazareth.

And the Child grew and waxed strong, full of wisdom and the grace of God was in Him.-Luke 2: 39, 40. As new-born babes desire the rational milk without guile, that thereby you may grow unto salvation.- 1 Peter 2 : 2.

QUOTATIONS FROM THE HOLY FATHERS

Since Jesus was subject to His parents. He no doubt showed His perfect obedience by sharing their labors with them—St. Basil.

Being subject to His parent, unrepining and obedient He endured corporal toil.-St. Basil.

Modesty, though it is desirable in all persons, at all times and in all places, is especially becoming in youthful souls.—St. Ambrose.

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The Resurrection

FACT OR FICTION?

WILLIAM THOMPSON

INDEX

THE MOST IMPORTANT EVENT IN HISTORY

No event in all history has greater importance than the Resurrection of Jesus Christ, and there is none the truth of which matters so much. For if the story of the Resurrection is a myth, there is no compelling reason to suppose that Jesus of Nazareth was more than a great ethical teacher and prophet such as Socrates or Buddha or Mahomet. He was no more the Son of God than they were the Sons of God and the message He gave was a purely human one-a good one, perhaps, but still a message from a mortal man. But if He rose from the dead, here is the mystery of all time, because we know that no dead person can ever come back to life. If this Man did what no living being can ever do, or can ever hope to do, then we know that He must also be God- the Master of Life and Death. This Man Who once lived in an obscure province of the Roman Empire must be the One Who made Man in His own image. In the words of the immortal hymn, this must be He Who built the starry skies.”

If the Resurrection were to be abandoned no Gospel would remain. That Christ was risen was the message that the believers of the New Testament period were concerned to make known. This was their Good News. They never for a moment imagined that there could be a Gospel apart from the Resurrection. It was truly an amazing message that the Apostles released upon the world.

If the message was true, if Jesus of Nazareth did rise again from the dead, then we are face to face with surely the greatest historical fact in human history. For no other historical personage has such a claim ever been made. It is a thing which simply does not happen. If it did happen, then this Man was a partaker in Godhead in a sense different to any other man. He was in fact, as he claimed to be, the Son of God. He was God.

It follows, therefore, that the historical authenticity or not of the Resurrection is the most momentous problem in all history.

HAS SCIENCE DISPROVED MIRACLES?

The evidence for the Resurrection is exceedingly strong and it may be wondered at why so many people doubt and even dispute it, not even troubling to examine the evidence. Part of the explanation would appear to be that many people have a vague notion that modern science has disproved the possibility of miracles. They feel that miracles have never happened and can never happen.

Most sceptics claim that it is their scientific outlook which causes them to reject the Resurrection out of hand. Their attitude is, however, anything but scientific. In any case, there is a whole field of experience which cannot be verified by what is commonly described as scientific method.

Very many of us are unnecessarily overawed by the smattering of scientific learning which we happen to possess. We tend to come to the Resurrection narratives prejudiced by our superficial knowledge of physics towards a disbelief in the possibility of Christ’s Resurrection. But those of us who learn the actual findings of the foremost physicists of the present day cease to be so confident; we discover that there is an enormous range of phenomena for which physical science is unable to offer the sketchiest explanation.

It is quite untrue to say that modem science has disproved the possibility of miracles. The most scientists would say is that they have never met a proven miracle. But no one can assert that because an event has never yet come within his or her personal experience, it is therefore beyond the bounds of reason.

It is well for us to remember that science describes what happens, rarely does it explain why it happens.

The true scientific method is to approach any given problem with a completely open mind, examining all the relevant evidence and all the possible objections and then reaching whatever conclusions may be clearly indicated.

This is the legal method; this is the only logical way. In a court of law, the innocence or guilt of a prisoner is not judged in advance; all the evidence in his favour and all the evidence which tells against him is scrupulously examined, then a verdict is reached.

In like manner, all the evidence in favour of miracles should be examined and all possible objections should be minutely considered.

Evidence may be direct or indirect.

I can quite easily prove that a stone falls to the ground if left unsupported. All I need do is to take a stone and let it fall. I can prove that bacteria exist but that is slightly more difficult to prove for I must have a microscope. I can only indirectly prove that there is such a country as Australia; I have never been there but the testimony of people now living is so exhaustive and conclusive that it would be the height of insanity to doubt the existence of Australia. Yet I accept this fact on other people’s authority-I do not really know it myself.

With any fact of history, the evidence must necessarily be still more indirect-all that can be done is to show that there is a convergence of historical probabilities which places the historicity of the event beyond all reasonable doubt.

We intend to show that the historical evidence for the Resurrection is overwhelming, far stronger than the evidence for many other events of history which everyone unhesitatingly accepts as true.

The truth or falsity of an historical event can only be ascertained by collecting all the evidence, analysing it, weighing it, pondering upon it and finally deciding upon balance of probability whether it happened or not.

There cannot be absolute certainty about any event in the past. We say we know that George III became King of England in 1760 but there is no person alive who was living then to verify it. It is an historical fact but a fact dependent on the credibility of historical witnesses. So many witnesses in so many different places attest to the fact of George III becoming king in 1760 and there are so many corroborative details, that to question it would be downright stupid.

We shall make an impartial investigation of the Resurrection in the same way. We will examine all the available evidence in the way a court of law would do.

ARE THE GOSPELS HISTORY OR LEGEND?

We must start by asking ourselves if the documents which relate the story of the Resurrection are reliable. Were they written by eye-witnesses? Are they really contemporary history, written by the four Evangelists? Or have we been fooled, are they simply pious legends?

In a world where there is much doubt and uncertainty, where contradictory accounts are published even about present-day events, the answer is simple. There is not a shadow of doubt that four Gospels were circulating in the infant Church during the lifetime of Christians who had known the Apostles.

But can we be sure that they were not tampered with? Can we be sure the miracle stories were not added later? Let us examine briefly a bit, a little bit of the evidence. A book could be filled with all the available evidence. As, for instance, the Gospel of St. John. The beloved Disciple lived to an extreme old age and shortly before his death, he wrote the last of the Gospels. About this time, he taught a young man who later became Bishop of Smyrna. This man, Polycarp, later to obtain a martyr’s crown, taught in turn a young man eventually to become Bishop of Lyons. Irenaeus of Lyons in his Epistle to Florinus tells us that Polycarp frequently spoke to him about what St. John and other disciples had told him about Our Lord and “all he said was in strict agreement with the Scriptures.” He quotes frequently from the four Gospels.

Writers who wrote still earlier quoting the Gospels include Papias and Justin Martyr. The latter wrote a summary of St. John’s Gospel full of quotations from that Gospel.

But the most treasured manuscript is the priceless fragment of part of St. John’s Gospel. This, the earliest of them all, is amongst the papyri in the John Rylands Library at Manchester.

We even have non-Christians mentioning the Resurrection. Josephus, the great Jewish historian, born within ten years of the Crucifixion has this to say: “About this time lived Jesus, a man full of wisdom, if one may call him a man. He was a doer of incredible things. . . . He was the Christ. On the accusation of the leading men of our people, Pilate condemned him to death on the cross. Nevertheless, those who had previously loved him, still remained faithful to him. For on the third day he again appeared to them living, just as, in addition to a thousand other wonderful things, prophets sent by God had foretold. And at the present day the race of those who call themselves Christians after him has not ceased.” (Jewish Antiquities. Chapter XVIII).

STRONG EVIDENCE

The first thing we find out is the startling fact that the evidence is all from one side. The Christians gave all the evidence in favour of the Resurrection, their opponents give no evidence to disprove it.

The next thing we find out is that the historical evidence for the Resurrection is exceedingly strong—far stronger than most people, believers and unbelievers alike, are aware. Indeed, the evidence is so overwhelming as to leave no reasonable doubt that Jesus of Nazareth, after He had been put to death by crucifixion, was raised from the dead and was seen alive by his disciples during the following forty days; and that this Resurrection meant more than the survival of His spirit, since it involved the raising of His body in such a way that His grave was left empty.

That the grave was really empty on the Sunday morning is beyond any reasonable question. Right from the beginning the emptiness of the grave was taken for granted by friend and foe alike, The Jews never denied that the tomb was vacant. The only explanation they could offer was that the disciples had stolen the body out of the tomb.

Try to imagine the scene. Only a short distance from where His dead body had been laid to rest, the Christians were proclaiming the astounding message that He had risen. If the body lay in the tomb, all the High Priest and the Sanhedrin needed to do was to throw the grave open to inspection so that anyone could see the body for himself.

The Jewish authorities were desperate for a solution. Their explanation that the disciples came by night and stole the body is really absurd. What were the guards doing? If they were awake, they could have stopped anyone taking the body away. If they were asleep, how could they know what happened to the body or who took it away? But who ever heard of soldiers on important guard duty, deciding to while the time away by sleeping? What happens to anyone rash enough to do so? There is no sign or suggestion anywhere that disciplinary action was taken against the guards.

THE EMPTY TOMB

In any case, there cannot be the slightest doubt that the grave was empty on the Sunday morning. What, then, happened to the body?

There can only be two explanations. The first is that Christ rose again from the dead and the second is that, somewhere or other, there was deliberate fraud. Absurd as we have shown the theory to be, let us examine the possibility that the disciples stole the body and pretended that their Master had risen from the dead.

We must ask ourselves first, what benefit would they have derived from such a deceit?

If they had invented the story of their Lord’s Resurrection, their reward was a lifetime of almost untold suffering, being excommunicated, ostracised and cut off from friends and relations. They knew that imprisonment and death awaited them and yet they launched their crusade in the very city where their master had been slain and only a few hundred yards from where His dead body had been laid to rest.

What a change had come over the Apostles in a few weeks time! When we read about them in the Gospels, Christ seems to have picked some very poor individuals as His followers. They fled at the approach of danger; their conduct in Gethsemane can only be called base and cowardly. Good Friday left them brokenhearted and in despair. He whom they had believed to be the Messiah was dead; the glorious adventure in which they had engaged with Him had come to a bitter, ignominious end; and so they skulked behind closed doors “for fear of the Jews.”

THE APOSTLES PREACHED THE RISEN LORD

Seven weeks later we find that they are scarcely recognizable as the same persons. Their despair and disappointment have given way to exultation, and soon they are in the busy streets of Jerusalem, the very stronghold of their enemies, fearlessly announcing that Christ is risen and that He is Lord.

There can be no argument about the message preached by the Apostles. They did not put Christianity forward as a code of ethics or a philosophy; they put it before the world as a supernatural religion, the story of a Man Who had died for the sins of the world and had miraculously risen again, and Who was both God and Man.

The earliest Christian document, which proves this, is St. Paul’s 1st Epistle to the Corinthians. This Epistle is un—doubtedly a genuine letter written by St. Paul to the converts at Corinth. It was written about A.D. 55, approximately ten years before St. Mark wrote his Gospel, the oldest of all the four Gospels. At first, the Apostles and other preachers relied solely on oral tradition as to the facts of the Lord’s life and death and as to His sayings.

So the famous fifteenth chapter of St. Paul’s 1st Epistle to the Corinthians affords us priceless testimony as to the belief of the early Church concerning the Resurrection: “Brethren, I make known unto you the gospel which I preached to you, which also you have received, and wherein you stand; by which also you are saved if you hold fast after what manner I preached unto you, unless you have believed in vain. For I delivered unto you first of all, which I also received, how that Christ died for our sins according to the scriptures; and that he was buried, and the He rose again the third day, according to the scriptures; and that He was seen by Cephas, and after that by the eleven. Then He was seen by more than five hundred brethren at once, of whom many remain until this present, and some are fallen asleep. After that He was seen by James, then by all the apostles. And last of all He was seen also by me, as one born out of due time.”

So far the evidence has shown us two definite facts. The first is that the tomb was certainly empty on that first Easter Sunday morning and the second is that the Apostles were convinced that their Master had risen from the dead.

DID THE APOSTLES IMAGINE IT ALL?

Critics have not been wanting to suggest that the appearances of the Risen Christ were subjective hallucinations which tradition has elaborated into walks and talks and meals and messages.

There are no scientific grounds for assuming that collective hallucination ever takes place and even individual hallucination only occurs when an event is expected. But the disciples were not expecting the Resurrection; far from it. The crucifixion had left them utterly defeated, broken-hearted, crushed in spirit and quite without hope. He, round whom they had woven such dreams had been executed in a shameful manner, and their hopes were shattered. They were timid, broken men, whose only hope was to save their own skins. Far from expecting to see their Master, they were only too sure that they had seen the last of Him. When the women came with their story that Jesus was alive, they would not believe them. And one of them, at least, was disposed to be sceptical even after the Risen Christ had shown Himself.

Though He had foretold his Resurrection to His disciples, it seems quite certain that they did not understand Him. They refused to take Him seriously when He spoke of His approaching death, and if they were slow and unwilling to understand, how could they possibly grasp His teaching concerning the Resurrection which was to follow? When we read the Gospels it is quite clear that though Our Lord told them of what was ahead, when the blow fell and the Crucifixion came, it took them unawares and left them shattered.

The disciples as pictured in the Gospels are not the type of men likely to fall a prey to visions. The women could be regarded as possible victims of hallucination but the men, a slow-moving unimaginative lot, are not at all likely to become subjects of hysteria and fanciful flights of imagination. When we come to read the Gospel accounts carefully, we find that the Appearances would be a rather odd kind of “hallucination” for the vision breaks bread, eats a bit of broiled fish and distributes the remains amongst them.

And he who attributes the transformation of the disciples to collective hallucination has still to explain the empty tomb. What happened to the body if the Christian explanation is not true? Was it removed to another grave? In that case, would it not have become a shrine, to which His followers would have repaired to give Him homage?

Even if someone did remove the body, what about the Appearances to the disciples? And not only to the disciples but to five hundred at once. Did the five hundred, presumably men, women and children, all suffer from the same hallucination?

DID JOSEPH OF ARIMATHEA REMOVE THE BODY?

It has been suggested by non-Christian critics that Joseph of Arimathaea removed the body. It is, however, difficult to see what motive he could have had. He could, it is true, have come to the tomb in the early hours of the morning and buried the body in another tomb of his own choice.

But is it conceivable that when the disciples were preaching the story of the Resurrection he would have kept quiet? A word from him would have exploded the whole story. He was a member of the Sanhedrin and if he never became a Christian he had no motive for keeping silent. If he later became a Christian he knew that the story of the Resurrection was false arid he was a pious Jew, extremely unlikely to lend himself to blasphemy. Even supposing he died immediately after removing the body, which would be a remarkable coincidence, he could not have moved the stone alone; he must have had helpers. Surely one or more of the helpers would have come forward. The Sanhedrin would have been delighted with such information and would have paid the informant well.

DID CHRIST ONLY FAINT ON THE CROSS?

Another alternative explanation put forward by rationalists is that Christ did not really die on the Cross but only fainted; and that, reviving in the cool of the tomb, He made His escape and inspired his disciples with the belief that He had risen from the dead.

This theory is of such extreme improbability that it is hardly worth a moment’s consideration. When He was taken down from the Cross, those supervising His execution were convinced that the job was done; and if they, whose duty it was to know, were satisfied that He was dead, it is hardly likely that they were mistaken.

However, supposing that for the sake of argument we concede that Our Lord may merely have been in a swoon when placed in the tomb, consider what difficulties there are in finding any reasonable explanation.

How did He escape from the tomb so carefully guarded by soldiers? Where did He get clothes from? Who rolled the stone away?

The theory that He did not really die on the Cross involves an appalling degree of fraud, much worse than the fraudulent removal of the body. All the Apostles must have been in the deception. It is interesting to remind ourselves here of a tremendous objection that the Apostles were guilty of fraud: would they have been willing to face persecution and death for a story which they knew to be false. Tradition says that all the Apostles, except St. John, perished by unnatural deaths. Death came to them in strange and horrible ways, devised for slaves and inferiors in a cruel age. We are inclined to think that they were not as other men; we shrink from pain and death, while they did not feel pain, neither did they fear death.

We only need to read St. Mark’s Gospel; he makes it quite clear that the disciples were anything but heroes. Only a conviction, overwhelming in force, a certainty that Christ had risen from the dead, could have transformed them from timid men “all who forsook Him and fled” into supermen who invaded Jerusalem, the intellectual centre of Judea, who pitted their faith against the cleverest brains of the day in the face of every hindrance and bitter opposition. They were not brilliant men, they were not very well-educated; they were men from the humblest walks of life, yet they carried all before them. In twenty years time they were threatening the very peace of the Roman Empire.

But at what a cost!

Persecution and martyrdom in the most fearful way.

Knowing this, as they must have done, why should they have formed a conspiracy to impose on the world a new religion in which they themselves did not believe? Is it conceivable that they would have persisted to the end in maintaining an elaborate conspiracy of falsehood? Surely one or other would have broken away from such a foolish and such a pointless conspiracy? It is incredible to suppose that, sooner or later, the real facts would not have leaked out.

What of the difficulties of the situation? Our Lord, weak and in need of attention must have been conveyed somewhere where He could not be recognized while the Apostles brazenly preached the Resurrection.

Then He too, must have been a party to the fraud. Now, not even the most violent atheist would maintain that Christ was a common trickster.

But the suggestion that He did not really die on the Cross was given its death-blow more than a century ago by Strauss, one of the keenest critics of Christianity.

He says: “It is impossible to believe that a man who had crept, half-dead, out of the grave, weak and ill, needing medical attention, bandaging and indulgence, and who must finally have yielded to his sufferings, could have produced on the mind of his disciples that he had triumphed over death and the grave, the Prince of Life, and yet it was this impression which was the basis of their future ministry. Such a resuscitation could only have weakened the impression which he made on them in life and in death, and could not possibly have transformed their sorrow into enthusiasm, or their reverence into worship.”

There is not a shadow of a doubt that Jesus was really dead when taken down from the Cross.

DID SOMEONE ELSE REMOVE THE BODY?

Sundry other suggestions have been advanced to try to find a materialistic explanation of the strange events of that first Easter Day.

Could anyone else have removed the body from the tomb? There were the Roman authorities; could Pilate have moved the body?

But what possible motive could he have had? His interest was to preserve the Pax Romana, none too easy a task with such a proud and turbulent people as the Jews. He had crucified Christ because it was the easiest way to avoid trouble with the Jews. Would he have antagonised them by moving the body and afterwards keeping silent? Then, too, others must have known the truth, is it conceivable that they would all have kept quiet? And how did the disciples and the five hundred imagine they had seen and heard the Risen Lord?

As for the Jewish authorities; they could easily have moved the body because they were annoyed with Joseph of Arimathaea for giving it honourable burial. They could have had it thrown into a common grave. They could have easily done all this, and then what would they have done when the disciples started to preach the Resurrection?

They would not have needed to produce a body which could have been recognized as that of Jesus; all that would have been necessary would have been for them to produce mouldering remains of any sort from the tomb. Then the new doctrine would have been blown sky high. They did no such thing; and this is only explicable on the assumption that the tomb was empty and too many people in Jerusalem knew it was empty.

We have examined some of the available evidence and we have come to see that there is no other explanation save the Christian one of miracle.

CONVERSION OF ST. PAUL

Even so, we have not yet examined all the evidence.

About four years after the Crucifixion, a young Jew, hating the Christian faith with every fibre of his being, and attacking its adherents with the utmost vigour, turned completely round and ended up being its most fearless and most renowned advocate. His intellectual attainments have made him one of the greatest personalities of all time, as friend and foe alike have repeatedly testified. He was a Rabbi and a Pharisee, the chief persecutor of the new sect and he was the last man in the world to become a Christian.

But Saul, for such was his name, did become a Christian. The change of front was so remarkable that it astonished everyone. No one can ever really know what happened on the Damascus road. He certainly had a vision of the Risen Christ. This seems to have been somewhat different in some respects from the earlier Resurrection appearances; but Saul had not the slightest doubt that it was real, and so he adds it to the list of Resurrection appearances in the 1st Epistle to the Corinthians.

It is safe to say that at the date of his conversion, when he saw the vision of Christ, he knew the best of the official case against the Christians; be would be acquainted with all the facts known to the Jewish authorities, and would know welt all the “natural” explanations of the Resurrection. He would certainly have been impressed and would probably have been shaken by the fortitude with which St. Stephen had met his death.

Even so, all his background, all his training as an exceptionally ardent Pharisee were such as to set him into violent opposition to any possibility of the Christians being right. The suggestion, even while he lived, that Christ was divine, would have filled Saul with intense repugnance; but the making of such a suggestion after the Crucifixion must have filled him with a horror so great that it is not to be wondered at that he rounded in violent hatred upon those whom he regarded as blasphemous heretics.

He was no unthinking, unquestioning, credulous individual but by common consent one of the greatest intellects of all time. His was a mind accustomed to assessing evidence and subjecting facts to searching scrutiny. He was a man equally capable of discussing Greek philosophical terms in Athens as of bandying Old Testament texts in the synagogues of Asia Minor.

He was the last man in the world to turn Christian.

He set out on his journey to Damascus, resolved to exterminate this new sect of Christianity; he arrived in

Damascus convinced that Jesus had risen. He did not merely think he had been wrong; he became utterly convinced of the truth of the Resurrection. He was now as much for Christ as he had previously been against Him. Everything about him at Damascus goes to show that here was a man convinced beyond any possibility of doubt.

His conversion was not only thorough and complete; it was to be lifelong. It led him to ridicule, hatred, persecution, stonings, floggings, imprisonment and shipwreck and, finally, it led him to an inglorious death.

Nothing could turn him away from his new faith and it is impossible to find any natural explanation for such a lifetime’s practical devotion.

Had there been any weak points in the disciples’ account of the Resurrection, here was the man to find them.

There was a considerable interval between his conversion and what he considered his call to spread the faith far and wide to all and sundry in the Roman world, an interval of self-communion and instruction. He announced his conversion at once but did not follow it up for some time. The evidence goes to show that he utilized this period to examine the Christian proofs of the Resurrection.

He mentions an appearance to St. Peter and another one to St James, an appearance which is nowhere else mentioned but the fact of which he must have got from the Apostle himself. He did not start his missionary teaching until he had seen St. Peter, one of the most vital witnesses on the question of the Resurrection. The proof that these two disciples alone could give was sufficient for him long after the excitement of his conversion had worn off. Being the man he was, too, we can be certain that he would have questioned very closely as many as he could of the five hundred. That he made himself known to most of the five hundred is indicated by his reference to them in the 1st Epistle to the Corinthians: “Then He was seen by more than five hundred brethren at once, of whom many remain until this present, and some are fallen asleep.”

He must have been acquainted with them to know that some were still living but also that some of them had died.

Critics have tried to make much of his silence about the women’s visit to the tomb. St. Paul was a strict Jew, writing not only to Greeks but also to his brethren. In Israel nineteen hundred years ago a woman could not give testimony on oath-what she said was not evidence. The Gospels mention the woman’s visit to the tomb because it happened; they simply wrote a factual account, but no Jew would have dreamed of bringing female testimony forward as evidence.

Two points should be borne in mind. The first is that St. Paul is not giving an exhaustive account of what happened on Easter Day, nor all the appearances of the Risen Christ, just as the Gospels in their turn, did not give a complete account. The second is that St. Paul is not writing to prove the Resurrection to his readers; he is simply giving them a brief reminder of facts which they, as well as he, know full well.

There is no reason to treat the fifteenth chapter of the 1st Epistle to the Corinthians as an example of what St. Paul would have said if he had been writing to plead the truth of the Resurrection. This apparent difficulty, the supposed discrepancies between the Gospel and St. Paul’s Epistle, is no reason for dismissing the Resurrection story.

Indeed, the real difficulty is finding a natural explanation for the transformation which took place in St. Paul’s life; the difficulty, not to say impossibility, of finding a natural explanation for what must surely be a supernatural event.

WEEKLY TESTIMONY AS TO TRUTH OF RESURRECTION

There is an extraordinary fact which occurs once every week. It has been said that man can get used to almost anything. It is certain that we never notice what a remarkable thing we do every Sunday. We obey the Ten Commandments or, at least, we try to do. Almighty God ordered mankind to rest on the seventh day of the week and we know that the Jews faithfully observed the Sabbath.

Then a most remarkable thing happened. A very small group of men, the Apostles, took it on themselves to make the Sabbath an ordinary day and substituted in its place, the first day of the week. We in the twentieth century rarely realise, that, to the orthodox Jew of the first century, this must have appeared as an act of hideous blasphemy. These few men amended one of the Commandments of God and Christians have followed their example down the ages.

The earliest Christians were Jews, and converted Jews continued to form a large proportion of the Christian Church throughout the first century. Only some very extraordinary consideration could have caused them to tamper with one of the Ten Commandments; what could that be other than the conviction that it was on the first day of the week that the Lord had risen from the dead?

The event was so decisive and sure that it displaced even the Sabbath. Every Sunday that comes round is a new argument for the Resurrection.

PROBLEM OF RISEN BODY

Though what has been said in these pages is adequate to show that Our Lord’s Resurrection is sober historical fact, it would be quite untrue to say that no problems remain in connection with the Appearances. One great difficulty is the nature of the risen body of Christ. It must be confessed that a full explanation would appear to be beyond our finite human minds. But there are some things which must be said.

One is that the historical truth of the Resurrection is not affected in the slightest by our inability to understand every problem connected with it. My inability to understand how the egg changes into the chicken does not alter anything; the egg hatches out even if I do not believe that it will do so.

Another thing which must be said is that our Risen Lord was different in some ways to the Christ before the Crucifixion; yet He was not a spirit. The true explanation must take account of the fact that the Risen Lord displayed physical attributes; He could see and be seen, He could eat and He could talk, yet, at the same time, He could appear and disappear at will. Perhaps we can do no better in attempting to describe Our Lord’s risen body than to speak of it as a “glorified” body.

It was still Christ but it was not simply His physical body restored to the old life. Neither was it a disembodied spirit-the body that had laid in the tomb was taken up into this Risen Lord-but a wonderful change had taken place so that now it was suited to the conditions of a higher life as our flesh-and-blood body is suited to this one.

The resurrection of the individual Christian too, will have both continuity and difference, as St. Paul points out. For us, too, the resurrection will be the resurrection of the body-not in the sense that the identical particles of our present body will form part of our “glorified” body, but in the sense that we shall not be pure spirit and that there will he pre- served all the essential physical features of our present earthly bodies.

How the Resurrection took place we do not know and certainly this side of the grave, we shall never be able to know. We do not know how it was that Jesus sometimes appeared as flesh and sometimes as spirit.

Allattempts at a complete explanation of the “mode” of the Resurrection are interesting. But they are not vital. The important thing, the one thing which is sufficient is that He rose from the dead in a manner which showed His power over life and death, a manner which demonstrates His victory over the grave, a victory which we, too, will eventually share with Him.

THE RESURRECTION IS HISTORICAL FACT

We have attempted to show how evidence piling upon evidence makes it unreasonable to doubt that Jesus rose from the dead. We sum up by emphasizing the impossibility of finding any other explanation of the Resurrection story.

It is for the sceptic to make good his claim; it is for the unbeliever to justify his contention that the Resurrection never took place.

But there is no satisfactory explanation except the Christian one of miracle.

There is only one explanation which fits the facts-the explanation givenby St. Peter when he says: “This Jesus hath God raised up, whereof we are all witnesses.”

Nihil Obstat:

JOSEPH P. NEWTH, C.C

Imprimi Potest:

@ IOANNES CAROLUS, Archiep. Dublinen.,

Hiberniae Primas.

Dublini:die 30 Oct. anno 1958.

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The Resurrection of Jesus Christ

AN HISTORICAL FACT

BY REVEREND THOMAS CONSIDINE, P.P. M.A. (OXON)

INDEX

INTRODUCTION

LET US BEGIN WITH THE PRESENT. THE WORLD IS NOT VERY CHRISTIAN, OR AT LEAST THERE ARE VERY MANY PEOPLE IN THE WESTERN countries who are only vaguely Christian; they do not consciously guide their lives by Christian teaching. Yet the whole of the Western world bears traces of an influence that has helped to mould the characters of all peoples living in the West. Even those who consciously renounce all allegiance to Christianity owe much to this influence. Many of their ideals, though often distorted because torn from their framework, they owe to the Christian Church. Traces of the influence of the Church are everywhere manifest, for it has exercised a deep and wide influence on the history of mankind.

In every city, town and village of the Western world, there are buildings of every kind that owe their origin to the Christian Faith. Some are very old or are in ruins: some are recent, and some still in the course of erection. They comprise churches, schools, monasteries, hospitals, laboratories. Those who built them were inspired by motives rooted in their Christian religion. And these are only external evidence. The internal evidences are more impressive.

The regulating of the working week and of the year indicates how deeply was the Christian view of the universe ingrained in the life of the people. The week of seven days and the observance of the Sabbath, though not Christian in origin, got their present form from the Christian Church. The holiday times of Christmas and Easter are Christian. With many, the real meaning is almost totally lost. But the times were chosen, and the meanings attached to them were decided, by the Church, and their observance became universal. The very word holiday meant holy-day. The calendar by which the world regulates national and international affairs is the Gregorian Calendar, the calendar reformed under the authority of Pope Gregory XIII. It was accepted by the world because of the authority of the Christian Church.

The laws by which the Western world lives are shot through and through with evidences of Christian influence In a recent little book of lectures, The Changing Law, Sir Alfred Denning, one of the Lord justices of the Court of Appeals of England, writes: “The common law of England has been moulded for centuries by judges who have been brought up in the Christian Faith. The precepts of religion, consciously or unconsciously, have been their guides in the administration of justice.”

Perhaps the best way to realize how vital has been the Christian influence on Western civilization is to consider what would be left if we took away what was due to Christianity. For some centuries now, the governments of countries nominally Christian have relied in practice on “reason alone.” The Christian guide to life is “Reason enlightened by Faith.”

The achievements of science, divorced in practice from faith, have been great; but Bertrand Russell, in one of his broadcast lectures during his Australian tour, made a significant admission. After praising these achievements, he said: “So far we have not been able to eliminate fear.” Is there any reason to believe that science , unenlightened by faith, will ever eliminate fear? Does not the present state of acute world anxiety point in the opposite direction? We all know what the Fascist, the Nazi, the Communist theories of life, which deny the Christian Faith, produce in practice.

Western civilization, of course, does not complete the picture. The Church has been very active in other countries as well. Africa, the Middle East (where the Church began), the Far East, the Pacific Islands, all bear testimony to her influence. But for our present purpose, it is enough to point out how vital and enduring that influence has been in the civilization with which the likely readers of this pamphlet are familiar.

What was the cause or origin of this great movement in the history of mankind? The Church herself has her explanation. Her explanation is that she was founded by an historical figure, Jesus Christ, Who died and rose from the dead. The Church’s enemies do not accept this explanation; and, if evidence is produced in support of the Christian explanation, they deny its worth. But they deny it not for historical reasons, but because it contradicts what they have already decided on. They say: “How could such a cock-and-abull story about a resurrection have been true? Isn’t it easy to see that once Christianity got under way, these mythical accounts would arise?”

The Christian position is this: “Yes, we realize that what we say is unusual and unexpected, but the fact is that that is what actually happened.” Let us examine this explanation and see on what evidence it rests.

WHO WAS JESUS CHRIST?

There was a time when the opponents of Christianity even denied the existence of an historical Christ. But there is no dispute today about some of the facts in the life of Jesus Christ. He lived in Palestine, put himself forward as a teacher, exerted a great influence on the Jewish people, incurred the hostility of the Jewish leaders. He was condemned to death by them, and they forced the hands of the Roman Governor, Pontius Pilate, to put the sentence into execution. He was crucified and taken down for dead, and was buried. That is the account of the four Gospels. It is accepted now by every writer on the subject.

DID CHRIST RISE FROM THE DEAD?

What happened after that? It is here that honest divergence of opinion can arise, until the evidence is sifted and weighed. The evidence of the gospels is that the disciples of Jesus Christ maintained that He arose from the dead but that those who brought about His death denied it. The onus of proof was on the disciples, for, in common human experience, dead men do not come to life again. But denial was not enough to discredit the claim. The empty tomb had to be explained.

But before discussing the empty tomb, the first step in arguing the truth of the resurrection is to show that the early Christians did believe it. We began this pamphlet by asking what was the source of the great influence Christianity has exercised on the world. Catholics say that it was the resurrection of Christ. If Christ rose from the dead, is it any wonder that His teaching exerted such an influence and is it any wonder that after 1900 or nearly 2,000 years the movement He began still exerts influence?

But did He rise from the dead? What is the evidence for it ? The first point we have to establish is that the early Christians did believe in the resurrection and that it was part of the gospel. If belief in the resurrection was a late development, as some of the deniers of the resurrection allege, then our whole case is worthless. Where are we going to get the evidence? We say that as well as the evidence of tradition we have the evidence of the New Testament. Opponents have denied the validity of the New Testament, and, in the main, their objections take this form: “The New Testament writings describe the resurrection as an actual occurrence, but the resurrection did not take place because it could not, and so the New Testament is inadmissible as trustworthy evidence.”

OUTLINE OF ARGUMENT

In general outline the argument of the informed Catholic is this. The earliest Christian records show that the first Christians always appealed to the resurrection as an important proof of the message they had to give, the Gospel, as they called it. The worth of the New Testament evidence generally is corroborated by a constant tradition and by evidence of pagan authors writing a few decades later. There is no reason to deny the historical worth of the New Testament except for the extraordinary story that is being told, and the writers reveal that they were well aware that they were relating an extraordinary story. Whether the resurrection is believed or not, there is no good reason to doubt the facts they relate in connection with it.

It is manifestly impossible to rebut the arguments of those who impugn the worth of the New Testament as historical documents, if the arguments are based not on the evidence but on hypothesis. Again, if the origins of Christianity are not such as are described in the New Testament, what were its origins? The multitude of contradictory hypotheses that have been put forward to explain its birth and growth, is an indication of the weak case there really is, against the truth of the resurrection.

It is beyond the learning of most of us to assess fully the value of the arguments for and against the worth of the New Testament. We give, however, an example, found not far from home, of the type of reasoning that is common with those who do not accept the traditional Christian view of the New Testament and the resurrection. It is not beyond the ability of most of us to detect its worthlessness and its dependence on hypothesis and not on evidence {See Appendix Section II (b) }.

EARLY BELIEF IN THE RESURRECTION

The following references to passages from the New Testament show how close is the association between belief in the resurrection and the kernel of the Gospel. We would point out that the order of appearance of the various books of the New Testament is still a matter of dispute among biblical scholars. However, one need not be a biblical scholar to see that, though it may not be easy to determine the exact order, it is possible to say that one book is earlier or later than another. The evidence is in the books themselves.

The Acts of the Apostles, for example, is later than the gospel of St. Luke, because in the Acts there is a reference to the gospel. So it is easy to see that by piecing together the evidence in the writings themselves, scholars can arrive at some measure of agreement as to what books are early and what late. If then there is reference in an undoubtedly early book to the resurrection, it is evidence that the resurrection was an early belief of the Christian Church. It doesn’t matter, however, in what order we examine the New Testament books; in almost every one of them, early or late, there is a reference to the close association between belief in the resurrection and the essence of the Gospel.

THE EPISTLES OF ST. PAUL

In I Thess. 1, 10, written about 51, St. Paul wrote: “You have turned away from idolatry to the worship of God, so as to serve a living God, a God who really exists, and to wait for the appearance of his son from heaven, Jesus, whom he raised from the dead, our Saviour from thevengeance that is to come.”

St. Paul wrote his First Epistle to the Corinthians about 55. In the 15th chapter, there is a long discussion on the Christian belief in the resurrection of all men from the dead and the resurrection of Christ. (The whole chapter is given in the appendix, Section IV.) Here we point out that this passage is complete proof of

(1) that the Apostles appealed to the resurrection as proof of the truth of the gospel, and

(2) that belief in the resurrection was not a late growth.

In the Epistle to the Romans, written about 57, in 1, 4, we read: “marked out miraculously as the Son of God by his resurrection from the dead, our Lord Jesus Christ,” and again in 8, 11, “If the spirit of him who raised Jesus from the dead dwells in you, he who raised up Jesus Christ from the dead will give life to your perishable bodies too, for the sake of his Spirit who dwells in you.”

In Ephesians, 1, 20, written about 61, we find: “measure it by that mighty exercise of power which he showed when he raisedChrist from the dead and bade him sit on his right hand above the heavens.”

Christ from the dead and bade him sit on his right hand above the heavens.”

9, written also about 61 we read: “he lowered his own dignity, accepted an obedience which brought him to death, death on a cross. That is why God raised himto such a height.”

In Colossians, 2, 12, written also about 61, we have: “You, by your baptism, have been united with his burial, united too with his resurrection.”

In Hebrews, 13, 20, written about 65, we read: “May God the author of peace, who has raised our Lord Jesus Christ from the dead . . . grant you . . . , to do his will, etc.”

In I Peter, 1, 3, written about 67 (or perhaps even earlier), we read, “Blessed be that God, that Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who in his mercy has begotten us anew, making hope live in us through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead.”

THE ACTS OF THE APOSTLES

The references we have taken from the Epistles occur in them just as reminders of what the readers already knew. In the Acts of the Apostles we get accounts of how the Apostles first went about the work of preaching the Gospel. The Acts were written between 62 and 65, and in them St. Luke describes the progress of Christianity from the resurrection onwards. St. Luke has always been found a most accurate historian. His descriptions then of the earliest events in the history of the Church cannot be doubted. In these accounts of the Apostles” “technique” in preaching, we invariably find two arguments,

(1) Christ rose from the dead, and (2) we are witnesses of it.

While the Apostles and disciples were awaiting the coming of the Holy Ghost, they decided to fill the place vacated by Judas. In the discussion, St. Peter said: “There are men who have walked in our company all through the time when the Lord Jesus came and went among us. One of these ought to be added to our number as a witness of his resurrection” (1, 21–22).

On the day of Pentecost, St. Peter preaches to the Jews in Jerusalem; he said: “This Jesus has God raised again, whereof we are witnesses” (2, 32).

He used the same argument to the crowd after the healing of the lame man in the temple, “But the author of life you killed, whom God has raised from the dead, of which we are witnesses” (3, 15).

It was his argument before the Jewish Council, before whom the Apostles were brought. “Be it known to you all and to all the people of Israel that by the name of our Lord Jesus Christ of Nazareth, whom you crucified, whom God has raised from the dead, even by him this man stands before you whole. . . . We cannot but speak the things which we have seen and heard” (4, 10, 20.)

We read in chapter 5 that the Apostles were again thrown into prison, released by an angel and again brought before the Jewish Council. St. Peter and the others replied: “we ought to obey God rather than man. The God of our fathers has raised Jesus whom you put to death, hanging him upon a tree . . . and we are witnesses of these things” (5, 30–32).

ST. PAUL IN THE ACTS

When St. Paul comes on the scene in the book of the Acts, he uses the same argument. In Acts 13 we read how he preached in Pisidian Antioch. In his address he said: “On the third day, God raised him from the dead. He was seen over a space of many days by the men who had come up with him from Galilee to Jerusalem; it is they who now bear witness of him before the people.”

When he was preaching in Thessalonica, we read (17, 3): “Over a space of three sabbaths he reasoned with them out of the scriptures, expounding these and bringing proofs from them that the sufferings of Christ and his rising from the dead were foreordained; “The Christ,” he said, “is none other than the Jesus whom I am preaching to you”.”

When he was in Athens, some of the Athenians thought he was preaching another pair of oriental gods, Jesus and Resurrection, so closely was the resurrection associated with the essence of the gospel. The Athenians on the Areopagus listened interestedly to what he had to say about God and repentance, but when he said (17, 31), “the man whom he has appointed for that end he has accredited to all of us, raising him up from thedead,” they declined to hear any more. (The moderns who reject the resurrection as a cock-and-a-bull story, were not the first to reject it on that ground.)

THE FOUR GOSPELS

It is impossible to give excerpts from the Gospels as separate references to the resurrection. The narratives of all four Gospels culminate in a description of the death and resurrection of our Lord Jesus Christ. They have to be read in their entirety. Without the resurrection, the Gospels lose all point. The specific references to the resurrection in the four Gospels are given in the appendix (see all of Section V).

TESTIMONY OF PAGAN AUTHORS

IT is clear that there is a mass of evidence from the New Testament that the resurrection was an integral part of the first preaching of the Gospel. The worth of the New Testament as trustworthy evidence is borne out by the unconscious testimony of two pagan writers of the early second century, Tacitus and Pliny the younger. We do not quote them as witnesses to the early Christian belief in the resurrection, but as evidence for the worth of the New Testament as recording what happened. As they were pagans we cannot expect their testimony to throw much light on the doctrine of the early Christians. Their testimony is given from the point of view of outsiders, and rather hostile ones. It in no way contradicts but confirms the history of the Church as we learn it from the New Testament. (The extracts are given in full in the Appendix (in Sections I and II).

TACITUS

Tacitus was an historian; Pliny was governor of a Roman province, engaged in the administration of justice. Tacitus’s allusion to the Christians is short but it corroborates the New Testament on these points:

1. Christ was put to death by Pontius Pilate.

2. The early Christians were opposed and misrepresented.

3. Christianity spread rapidly.

4. The Christians were put to death for their faith.

Of course Tacitus does not say they were put to death for their faith as such. He says they were killed “not so much for the crime of firing the city as of hatred against mankind.” We might remember that Christ said, as reported in Matt. 10, ity as of hatred against mankind.” We might remember that Christ said, as reported in Matt. 10, 25: “A disciple is no better than his master. . . . If they have cried “Beelzebub” at the master of the household, they will do it much more readily to the men of his household.”

PLINY

Pliny’s letter gives more corroboration of the beliefs and history of the early Christians as we know them from the

New Testament. It shows:

1. The rapid spread of the faith.

2. The Christian abhorrence of idolatry.

3. The high moral code of the Christians.

4. Their readiness to obey the civil law.

5. The belief in the Eucharist.

6. The existence of a liturgy associated with the celebration of the Eucharist.

7. The belief in the divinity of Christ.

(In the appendix, in SectionII (b), in a short commentary on an edition of Pliny’s letters, we give an example of the method of dealing with neutral sources used by those who do not accept the Christian tradition).

THE PROBLEM OF THE EMPTY TOMB

All this evidence leaves no doubt that the early Christians believed that Christ rose from the dead and regarded it as an integral part of the Gospel. However, belief that an event occurred is not proof that it did occur. We have so far only succeeded in disposing of the objection to the resurrection that the early Christians did not believe in it, that it was a later growth. We have still to argue that the evidence for the resurrection is overwhelmingly strong.

One other point that has to be emphasized before we begin to argue from the evidence is this. The problem of the empty tomb was urgent from the beginning. It could be argued that while there can he no doubt that from after Pentecost the Christians believed in the resurrection and based their faith on it, that does not dispose of this objection. Between the burial and Pentecost, there was a gap of fifty days; during this time there would be a calm in which the final Christian philosophy, built on a supposed resurrection, took definite shape; but also during this calm the Jewish leaders would have ceased to be very interested in the man from Galilee; once he was executed, there would be no reason to trouble much about his leaderless followers; how could the Jews, after Pentecost, have any positive means of disproving a resurrection—the body or the remains of it were, of course, no longer in the tomb-but could they be expected to know or to explain what had become of it?

This is only a negative sort of objection and, like an argument from silence, has value only to raise doubts against a positive position. Again, however, the evidence is against it. There is abundant evidence that the problem was urgent from the beginning. There is St. Matthew’s account of the Jewish anxiety about the burial and the possibility of deception by Christ’s disciples, and the placing of an armed guard, and there is his account of the story they spread to explain the empty tomb, namely, the disciples stole it.

All this fits in with what we know from other sources. That the movement begun by Christ was of sufficient weight to move the Jewish leaders to contrive his death is admitted by all. Is it likely they forgot about it immediately after the crucifixion and they would not have heard rumours of an alleged resurrection, and if they did hear, that they would not have taken some measures to cope with a resurgence of the trouble? There is plenty of evidence that less than two months after the crucifixion, the “trouble” began to stir again. There is the arrest of the Apostles after the cure of the lame man in the temple and the repressive measures which turned into the active persecution with which St. Paul was associated.

And all this fits in with the statement of Tacitus: “Christus, from whom the name had its origin, suffered the extreme penalty during the reign of Tiberius at the hands of one of our procurators, Pontius Pilate, and a most mischievous superstition, thus checked for the moment, again broke out not only in Judea, the first source of the evil, but even in Rome.”

THE TOMB WAS EMPTY

The evidence so far, then, leads to this position. Christ was crucified as the leader of a “subversive” movement; he was buried but on the third day the tomb was found empty.

What happened to the body? The Jewish authorities, if they could have produced the body, could have countered the resurrection story by producing it, and they had good reasons for being anxious to counter the story. But there is no evidence that they produced the body. The contemporary evidence is that they said that while the guards were asleep, the disciples came and stole the body; the Christians declared that Christ had risen from the dead.

MODERN HYPOTHESES

Many centuries later, unbelievers put forward a number of hypotheses to explain the empty tomb. One explanation is that Christ was not really dead but in a dead faint, and revived in the tomb. There is, of course, not the slightest evidence for this. The soldier whose duty it was to see that the crucified men were dead, had broken the legs of the thieves, but when he came to Christ he saw that He was already dead; it is unlikely that the thieves had been scourged before crucifixion, as Christ had been. Christ was apparently dead, but to be quite sure he was dead, the soldier ran the body through with a spear. Moreover, this explanation is inadequate to explain how an exit was made from the tomb, how the disciples came to believe in a resurrection, or what did finally happen to the revived Christ.

We are left with two explanations for which there is evidence that they were in circulation at the time, the Jews” explanation that the disciples stole the body and the Christian explanation that Christ rose from the dead.

JEWISH LEADERS’ EXPLANATION

We examine the first explanation. It is the only explanation that can be entertained, if the resurrection is denied. This explanation assumes that the disciples were somehow inferior men, that is, lacking in intelligence or moral worth or both. There is no evidence that they were. The evidence is that they were plain, average men, and seemingly, of no high secondary education. But plain, average men are not, on that account, odd or inferior men; they can be very wise men. Learned men can be very inferior men. The French king called James I of England, “the most learned fool in Christendom,” and history seems to think him right. On the other hand uneducated men can be both fools and rogues. As average men, the disciples could have been rogues or fools, but, we repeat, there is no evidence that they were. The evidence is all the other way.

THE DISCIPLES ROGUES?

If they stole the body the disciples must have been rogues or fools. If they were more fools than rogues, they might have thought that by stealing the body they could somehow carry on the work of Christ, whatever it was they thought it to be. This is a more plausible suggestion than that they were rogues. We will examine it shortly. But what, if they were more rogues than fools? If they were, they might have thought that they could derive some material gain, economic or political, from the fraud. There is evidence that some of them, some time before the crucifixion, had their eyes on political benefits from the gospel of the kingdom. But the view that it actuated them in stealing the body cannot be entertained for long. The history of the early church, as given in the New Testament (corroborated, as we have seen, by pagan authors), shows that after the Ascension, all the disciples considered the mission of Christ to have been a purely spiritual one. Granted that they stole the body with some idea of perpetrating a fraud and, human nature being what it is, they would not have persevered for long in a fraud which they expected would yield material gain but was resulting in persecution and death.

THE DISCIPLES FANATICS?

There is, then, the view that the disciples were deluded fools or fanatics of some sort. As is well known, fanaticism can spur men on to extremes of heroism, however irrational or deluded. But heroism is not of its nature fanatical. All men revere the brave man who knows the danger and perseveres in the course he has set himself. He is always ready to “listen to reason,” but until he sees reasonable cause for a change, he will continue on his course. The fanatic sees that in life there is no escaping hardship and the risk of death; he adopts a fatalistic attitude and is deaf to every argument. The brave man is resolved because he has examined the situation honestly; the fanatic acts on impulse. Now there is no evidence that the disciples were fanatics, but there is strong evidence that they acted as normal honest men would act; they were moved by the evidence before them. Their argument always was: “We have seen it.”

The Gospel narratives make it clear that the Apostles were normal men. They were originally rather worldly-minded; they found it hard to understand the mystery of the kingdom; they were somewhat cowardly, or better, as yet unused to overcoming fear. Peter was like the most of us-”big talk,” when the danger is remote, but inclined to yield when it is imminent. After the crucifixion, they were in a state of confusion; they forgot about the prediction of Christ that He would rise again. When the announcement of the resurrection was first made, they were disinclined to believe. One of them, Thomas, was a thorough sceptic-”Until I have seen the mark of the nails in His hands, until I have put my finger into the mark of the nails, and put my hand into His side, you will never make me believe.” But eventually they were all convinced, and it was the evidence that convinced them-”We have seen it.”

CONVINCING OTHERS

In these our days, amongst people who have somewhat lost their grip of the Christian tradition, there is a tendency to adopt a non-committal attitude to these arguments. They cannot but see their cogency, but still they hang back. It is not a new tendency; it was the tendency of the men with whom the apostles had to deal; it had been their own tendency. The Apostles” method of approach to their contemporaries is itself proof that they were not fanatics. They knew that what they were preaching was something that their hearers regarded as extraordinary; they themselves had felt the full weight of the objections against their preaching; they had considered the implications of the doctrine so far as it would affect themselves, but the evidence was compelling. This comes out very clearly in the 15thchapter of St. Paul’s First Epistle to the Corinthians. (Read it for yourself in your Bible or in the appendix, (at Section IV) bearing the following points in mind.)

ST. PAUL DISCUSSES THE RESURRECTION

St. Paul is answering enquiries from the Corinthians on points of doctrine. Some of the Corinthians were inclined to deny the teaching of Christ on the resurrection of the body, somewhat in the style of many people today, who claim to be Christians but choose or reject at will various elements of the Christian Revelation. St. Paul writes to explain further the doctrine and appeals to the resurrection of Christ. First of all, he reminds them of the main Christian teaching: “The chief message I handed on to you as it was handed on to me, was that Christ, as the Scriptures had foretold, died for our sins, that he was buried, and then, as the Scriptures had foretold, rose again on the third day.” (verses 3 & 4) He then tells them that He was seen after His resurrection on a number of occasions by different individuals and groups of disciples.

He then argues: If you say there is no resurrection from the dead, then Christ could not have risen. If He has not risen, then the whole of your faith is useless. And we-this is a most important point-are shown to be guilty of having given false testimony against God. We have testified that God raised Christ from the dead, and this could not be true if there is no resurrection from the dead. Manifestly Paul was very consciousof the necessity of loyalty to truth; no “pious fraud,” no wishful thinking for him. He goes on to emphasize that if there is no resurrection, then the rest of their faith is vain, those who died in the faith are lost, and Christians are the unhappiest of people, for they lose in this world and their hope for the next is a delusion. But the fact is-Christ did rise from the dead, and just as surely as He rose to a life of glory, so also will those who belong to Him.

Later on in the chapter, St. Paul stresses the fact that he has to undergo much hardship and persecution for the gospel. What use is it, if the dead do not rise. Better to follow the advice, “Eat and drink, for tomorrow we die.” (verse 32)

There is no trace of the fanatic or deluded fool in all this. St. Paul squarely faces the issues raised by the mystery of life. Men are animals with animal desires; they have also an intellectual and moral life. The two lives are often at variance. Which is the more important? Men have always agreed that any lie or deceit in the soul is treason, and fatal to the well-being of the whole man. St. Paul knows this well, and it could not be that he or the other Apostles-St. Paul expressly identifies himself with the others (15, 11)-were party to a plot to foist some superstitious doctrine on the world on the basis of a faked resurrection.

SUMMING UP

In brief, the historical case for the resurrection is this. Christ died and was buried. No one doubts this now. The evidence of the New Testament, backed by a constant church tradition, is that from the beginning, the Christians said He rose from the dead and that they appealed to the resurrection as proof of the gospel they preached.

The New Testament also shows that the Apostles were honest men of strong common sense, who had been convinced by the evidence, and like brave men, were prepared to die for a doctrine that their love of truth had led them to accept. The reliability of the New Testament as truthful documents is attested by the evidence of pagan authors, so far as the pagan authors touched upon the matter. Those who impugn the veracity of the New Testament build more upon hypothesis than on evidence.

Those of our readers who wonder whether the modern critics of the New Testament or the upholders of the orthodox Christian tradition are the more worthy of trust have to decide for themselves, from their personal knowledge of each, which they will choose to trust. We give in the Appendix some considerations they can ponder over. (Especially in Sections II (b) and III.)

Finally, the resurrection of Christ, if true, will explain the undeniable fact of the profound influence of the Christian Church in the history of the world; if not true, how is that influence to be explained ? Whatever we think about it, Christ either rose or did not rise. There is the evidence that He did rise; we reject it at our peril. The traditional Christian teaching has been that once we believe in the resurrection-and we will believe it, given honesty of intention-the universe ceases to be unintelligible.

APPENDIX I

FROM THE ANNALS OF TACITUS (XV, 44)

Tacitus has been recording the great fire of Rome in A.D. 64, and telling of the means taken by Nero to repair the material damage, and of the religious rites performed to propitiate the pagan gods. He continues:

“But all human efforts, all the lavish gifts of the emperor, and the propitiations of the gods, did not banish the sinister belief that the conflagration was the result of an order” (i.e., of Nero), “consequently, to get rid of the report, Nero fastened the guilt and inflicted the most exquisite tortures on a class hated for their abominations, called Christians by the populace. Christus, from whom the name had its origin, suffered the extreme penalty during the reign of Tiberius at the hands of one of our procurators, Pontius Pilate, and a most mischievous superstition, thus checked for the moment, again broke out not only in Judea, the first source of the evil, but even in Rome, where all things hideous and shameful from every part of the world find their centre and become popular. Accordingly, an arrest was first made of those who pleaded guilty; then, upon their information, an immense multitude was convicted, not so much of the crime of firing the city, as of hatred against mankind. Mockery of every sort was added to their deaths. Covered with the skins of beasts, they were torn by dogs and perished, or were nailed to crosses, or were doomed to the flames and burnt, to serve as a nightly illumination, when daylight had expired.”

“Nero of fered his gardens for the spectacle, and was exhibiting a show in the circus, while he mingled with the people in the dress of a charioteer or stood aloft on a car [chariot]. Hence even for criminals who deserved extreme and exemplary punishment, there arose a feeling of compassion; for it was not, as it seemed, for the public good, but to glut one man’s cruelty that they were being destroyed.”

II A

FROM THE LETTERS OF PLINY THE YOUNGER (TRAJ. 96)

Pliny was a contemporary of Tacitus, He was appointed Governor of Bithynia by the Emperor Trajan in 111 or 112. He was a literary man and, in writing his letters, even official ones to the emperor, he had his eye on future publication. He was in Bithynia for a year and died soon after his return to Rome, probably in 114, aged 52.

“It is my custom, sir, to refer to you all matters in which I am doubtful. For who can better guide my indecision or instruct my ignorance.

“I have never been present at the investigations concerning Christians. And so I do not know what is the usual object and extent of either punishment or enquiry. And I have wondered not a little whether there should be any distinction made between ages or whether the very tender are to differ in no way from the stronger; should pardon be given on repentance or is it of no avail for one who was completely a Christian to cease to be one; should the very name be punished, if it is not associated with evil deeds, or is it evil deeds going with the name that are to be punished. Meanwhile, in the case of those who have been reported to me as Christians, this is the procedure I have followed.

“I asked them themselves if they were Christians. Those who confessed I questioned a second and a third time, threatening punishment. Those who persisted I ordered to be led to execution. For I had no doubt that, whatever might be the nature of their belief, pertinacity and inflexible obstinacy should certainly be punished. There were others of similar madness, who since they were Roman citizens, I have entered up for transfer to the city (Rome).

“Before long, merely as a result of the matter being dealt with,-as usually happens-the accusation became more common and more varieties of it appeared. A list was handed in bearing no signature and containing the names of many.

“Those who denied that they were or had been Christians, after they had invoked the gods in my presence and had made supplication with incense and wine before your image, which for this purpose I had ordered to be brought in together with the statues of the divinities, and they had moreover reviled Christ-none of which things, it is said, can they be forced to do who are in real truth Christians,-I decided to have dismissed. Others named by the informer, said they were Christians and soon denied it; they had been indeed, but had ceased to be, some three years since, some a greater number of years since, a few even twenty years since. All of these venerated your image and the statues of the gods, and reviled Christ.”

They declared, however, that this was the sum-total of their fault or error: they were accustomed on a given day to assemble before daylight and recite together in alternating verses (secum invicem dicere) a hymn to Christ as to a god (quasi deo), and to bind themselves by a sacrament,-not to some wicked enterprise-but not to commit thefts or robberies or adulteries, not to break their solemn word, not to refuse to return a loan when called upon; when these rites were over, the custom was to depart and to meet again to take food, but food that was common and harmless (promiscuum et innoxium). But this they had ceased to do after my edict, whereby, following your commands, I had banned the existence of clubs. For this reason I believed it all the more necessary to find out, even under torture, what was the truth of the matter from two maidservants, who were called deaconesses. I found nothing but a superstition, depraved and unrestrained.

“Accordingly, I have postponed the enquiry and have hastened to consult you. For the matter seemed to me worthy of consultation, especially in view of the number of those in danger. For many of every age, of every rank, of both sexes too, are being called into danger and will be called. This contagious superstition has permeated not only the cities but even the villages and the country districts; and yet it seems it can be halted and corrected. Certainly it is pretty well agreed that the temples, which up to the present have been almost deserted, have now begun to be frequented, and the accustomed sacrifices, for a long time discontinued, have been resumed, and fodder for the victims is being sold, for which up till now a buyer was rarely found. From this it is easy to conjecture what a multitude of people can be reformed if there be room for repentance.”

II B

NOTE ON PLINY’S LETTER *

In the edition of Pliny’s letters still in use at the Melbourne University [in 1955], there is to be found an instance of how untrustworthy is modern learning, when there is question of Christian teaching, and how hypothesis usurps the place of an honest examination of the evidence. The edition is a selection of the letters, edited with notes by Prichard and Bernard, printed at the Clarendon Press and first published in 1872.

Among the notes to the letter we have just given, there is this one: “QUASI DEO; these words are evidently thrown in by Pliny and must not be regarded as evidence of the belief of the church at that time in the Divinity of Christ.” There are two questions to be considered:

(i) What truth there is in the note,

(ii) Why was it included.

It is said that the words quasi deoare “evidently thrown in.” But there is no ground in the text for saying so. The evidenceis that they were not “thrown in,” but carefully chosen. Pliny was manifestly trying to give a just account of the situation in Bithynia. He was handing on information he had acquired after careful examination. The natural reading of his words is that the Christians had told him that they worshipped Christ as God. If they did say that, and there is abundant evidence from the New Testament that they did regard him as God, how else could Pliny have put it? Less naturally the words could be understood to mean that Pliny was putting his interpretation on what the Christians told him. The words are not “evidently thrown in.” But even on that reading of the words, the passage is evidence that the Christians believed in the divinity of Christ. There must have been something in what the Christians told him of their worship of Christ that would cause the fairminded Pliny to describe it as rendered to Christ “as to a god.”

Pliny, of course, didn’t believe that Christ was divine but his information came from the Christians; it is impossible to imagine what they could have told him except on the basis that they believed Christ was divine. We must also remember that the charge against the Christians was not crime but the very profession of Christianity. It was a question of ultimate loyalty, Caesar or Christ? The old Roman Republic had ended. It is now the will of Caesar that gives authority to law. The divinity of the emperor was worshipped throughout the Empire,-hence his image at the trial of the Christians. It is manifest that Pliny had chosen his words carefully; the Christians “evidently” had told him they worshipped Christ as God; if they worshipped the emperor and reviled Christ, they could go free.

Now why was the note put in? It is most emphatic; it is directed to correcting the impression gained from the natural reading; it has no foundation in the text and it is not necessary for an understanding of grammar or syntax. The answer, we are sure, is to be had from recalling the date of the first edition of the book. It was in 1872. The higher criticism of the Bible was then in full swing. In 1835 David Strauss had published a book in which he popularized the view that whatever was extraordinary in the Gospels was myth. This view, with varying modifications, was put forward by a number of subsequent writers, and in 1883 Ernest Renan published his Life of Christ. In these books the traditional Christian doctrines were knocked over one after another. There has been a reversal of this attitude in more recent times, but in 1872 the view of the higher critics would have been very strong. One doctrine early attacked and denied was the early Christian belief in the divinity of Christ.

III

THE ATTITUDE OF SIR WILLIAM RAMSAY

The following extract from a recent Scripture commentator, C. S. Dessain, will be helpful to assessing the value of the higher criticism of the New Testament. “The extraordinary accuracy of St. Luke has also been demonstrated by the recent discoveries of archaeology. The story of the “conversion” of Sir William Ramsay, who had been brought up to regard Acts as a second century forgery, is well known, and the archaeological evidence can be found in his books. “Every incident described in the Acts is just what might be expected in ancient surroundings. The officials with whom Paul and his companions were brought into contact are those who would be there. Every person is found just where he ought to be; proconsuls in senatorial provinces, Asiarchs in Ephesus, stregoi in Philippi, politarchs in Thessalonica, magicians and soothsayers everywhere. . . . The magistrates take action against them in a strictly managed Roman colony like Pisidian Antioch or Philippi, where legality and order reigned; riotous crowds try to take the law into their own hands in the less strictly governed Hellenistic cities like Iconium and Ephesus and Thessalonica.” (The Bearing of Recent Discovery on the Trustworthiness of the New Testament(1915), 96.”)

IV

FROM FIRST EPISTLE TO CORINTHIANS (CHAP. 15.)

Here, brethren, is an account of the gospel I preached to you. It was this that was handed on to you; upon this your faith rests; through this (if you keep in mind the tenor of its preaching) you are in the way of salvation; unless, indeed, your belief was ill-founded. The chief message I handed on to you, as it was handed on to me, was that Christ, as the scriptures had foretold, died for our sins, that he was buried, and then, as the scriptures had foretold, rose again on the third day. That He was seen by Cephas, then by the eleven Apostles, and afterwards by more than five hundred of the brethren at once, most of whom are alive at this day, though some have gone to their rest. Then he was seen by James, then by all the Apostles; and last of all, I, too, saw him, like the last child, that comes to birth unexpectedly. Of all the Apostles, I am the least; nay, I am not fit to be called an apostle, since there was a time when I persecuted the church of God; only by God’s grace, I am what I am, and the grace he has shown me has not been without fruit; I have worked harder than all of them, or rather, it was not I, but the grace of God working with me. That is our preaching, mine or theirs as you will; that is the faith which has come to you.

If what we preach about Christ, then, is that He rose from the dead, how is it that some of you say the dead do not rise again ? If the dead do not rise, then Christ has not risen either; and if Christ has not risen, then our preaching is groundless, and your faith, too, is groundless. Worse still, we are convicted of giving false testimony about God; we bore God witness that he had raised Christ up from the dead, and he has not raised him up, if it is true that the dead do not rise again. If the dead, I say, do not rise, then Christ has not risen either; and if Christ has not risen all your faith is a delusion; you are back in your sins. It follows, too, that those who have gone to rest in Christ have been lost. If the hope we have learned to repose in Christ belongs to this world only, then we are unhappy beyond all men. But no, Christ has risen from the dead, the first fruits of all those who have fallen asleep; a man had brought us death, and a man should bring us resurrection from the dead; just as all have died with Adam, so with Christ all will be brought to life. But each must rise in his own rank; Christ is the first-fruits, and after him follow those who belong to him, those who have put their trust in his return. Full completion comes after that, when he places his kingship in the hands of God, his Father, having first dispossessed every other sort of rule, authority, and power; his reign, as we know, must continue until he has put all his enemies under his feet, and the last of these enemies to be dispossessed is death. God has put all things in subjection under his feet; that is, all things have been made subject to him, except, indeed, that power which made them his subjects. And when that subjection is complete, then the Son himself will become subject to the power which made all things his subjects, so that God may be all in all.

Tell me, what can be the use of being baptized for the dead, if the dead do not rise again? Why should anyone be baptized for them? Why do we, for that matter, face peril hour after hour? I swear to you, brethren, by all the pride I take in the name of Our Lord Jesus Christ, that death is daily at my side. When I fought against beasts at Ephesus with all my strength, of what use was it, if the dead do not rise again? Let us eat and drink, since we must die tomorrow. Do not be led into such errors; bad company, they say, can corrupt noble minds. Come back to your senses, like right-minded men, and sin no longer; there are some, I say it to your shame, who lack the knowledge of God.

V

From the Four Gospels

The following are the references to the resurrection from the four Gospels, as presented by Archbishop Alban Goodier, S.J., in his book,”The Risen Jesus” (Burns, Oates, 1943). [The Scripture translation here is a slightly amended version of the Douay-Rheims New Testament.]

V (A)

THE EMPTY TOMB

And when the Sabbath was past, Mary Magdalen and the other Mary, the mother of James and Salome, bought sweet spices that coming they might anoint Jesus. And on the first day of the week, very early in the morning when it was yet dark and when it began to dawn, they came to see the sepulchre, bringing the spices which they had prepared. And the sun being now risen they said one to another: “Who shall roll us back the stone from the door of the sepulchre.” And behold there was a great earthquake and looking, they saw the stone rolled back, taken away from the sepulchre. For an angel of the Lord descended from Heaven and coming rolled back the stone for it was very great, and sat upon it. And his countenance was as lightning and his raiment as snow. And for fear of him the guards were struck with terror and became as dead men.

And the angel answering said to the woman: “Fear not you for I know that you seek Jesus who was crucified. He is not here for he is risen as he said. Come and seethe place where the Lord was laid.”

And entering into the sepulchre they found not the body of the Lord Jesus. And they saw a young man sitting on the right side clothed with a white robe. And it came to pass as they were astonished in their mind at this behold two men stood by them in shining apparel.

And as they were afraid, and bowed down their countenance towards the ground, they said to them: “Be not affrighted. Why seek you the living with the dead. You seek Jesus of Nazareth Who was crucified. He is not here, but is risen. Behold the place where they laid him. Remember how he spoke unto you when he was yet in Galilee, saying the Son of man must be delivered into the hands of sinful men and be crucified and the third day rise again. But going quickly, you all tell his disciples and Peter that he is risen. And behold he will go before you into Galilee. There you shall see him as he told you. Lo I have foretold it to you.”

And they remembered his words.

Matthew 28, 1–7; Mark 16, 1–7; Luke 24, 1–8; John 20, 1.

V (B)

THE FIRST APPARITION

But they going out quickly, Fled from the sepulchre with fear and great joy, for a great trembling and fear had seized them. And they said nothing to any man, for they were afraid.

(Mary Magdalen ran therefore and comes to Simon Peter and to the other disciple whom Jesus loved and says to them: “They have taken away the Lord out of the sepulchre and we know not where they have laid him.”)

And behold Jesus met them saying: “All hail.”

But they came up and took hold of his feet and adored him. Then Jesussaid to them: “Fear not. Go tell my brethren that they go into Galilee. There they shall see me.”

Matthew 28, 8–10; Mark 16, 8; Luke 24, 9, 10; John 20, 2.

V (C)

THE FIRST WITNESS

And going back from the sepulchre they told all these things to the eleven and to all the rest. And it was Mary Magdalen, and Joanna, and Mary of James, and the other women that were with them who told these things to the apostles. And these words seemed to them as idle tales and they did not believe them.

Luke 24, 9–11.

V (D)

PETER AND JOHN

But Peter rising up went out and ran to the sepulchre, and that other disciple. And they came to the sepulchre. And they both ran together and that other disciple did outrun Peter and came first to the sepulchre. And when he stooped down, he saw the linen cloths lying, but yet he went not in. Then comes Simon Peter following him, and stooping down he saw the linen cloths laid by themselves, and went into the sepulchre. And saw the linen cloths lying and the napkin that had been about his head not lying with the linen cloths, but apart, wrapped up into one place. Then that other disciple also went in who came first to the sepulchre. And he saw and believed. For as yet they knew not the scripture that he must rise again from the dead. The disciples therefore departed again to their home. And Peter went away wondering in himself at that which was come to pass.

Luke 24, 12; John 20, 3–10.

V (E)

MARY MAGDALEN

But he rising early the first day of the week appeared first to Mary Magdalen, out of whom he had cast seven devils. Mary stood at the sepulchre without, weeping. Now, as she was weeping, she stooped down and looked into the sepulchre and she saw two angels in white, sitting one at the head and one at the feet where the body of Jesus had been laid.

They say to her: “Woman, why weep you?”

She says to them: “Because they have taken away my Lord, and I know not where they have laid him.” When she had thus said she turned herself back and saw Jesus standing, and she knew not that it was Jesus.

Jesus says to her: “Woman, why weep you? Whom seek you?”

She, thinking that it was the gardener, said to him: “Sir, if you have taken him hence tell me where you has laid him and I will take him away.”

Jesus says to her: “Mary”.

She, turning, says to him: “Rabboni.” (Which is to say: “Master.”)

Jesus says to her: “Do not touch me for I am not yet ascended to my Father. But go to my brethren and say to them I ascend to my Father and to your Father, to my God and your God.”

Mary Magdalen comes and tells the disciples that had been with him, who were mourning and weeping. “I have seen the Lord, and these things he said to me.” And they, hearing that he was alive and had been seen by her, did not believe.

Mark 16, 9–11; John 20, 11–18.

V (F)

THE DISCIPLES AT EMMAUS

And behold, after that, he appeared in another shape to two of them walking that same day as they were going into the country to a town which was sixty furlongs from Jerusalem named Emmaus. And they talked together of all these things which had happened. And it came to pass that while they talked and reasoned with themselves, Jesus himself also drawing near went with them, but their eyes were held that they should not know him.

And he said to them: “What are these discourses that you hold with one another as you walk and are sad.”

And the one of them answering whose name was Cleophas said to him: “Are you only a stranger in Jerusalem and have not known the things that have been done there in these days?”

To whom he said:”What things?”

And they said: “Concerning Jesus of Nazareth who was a prophet, mighty in work and word before God and all the people. And how our chief priests and princes delivered him to be condemned to death and crucified him. But we hoped that it was he that should have redeemed Israel. And now besides all this, today is the third day since these things were done. Yea, and certain women also of our company affrighted us, who, before it was light were at the sepulchre, and, not finding his body, came saying that they had also seen a vision of angels who say that he is alive. And some of our people went to the sepulchre and found it so, as the women said, but him they found not.”

Then he said to them: “O foolish and slow of heart to believe in all things which the prophets have spoken. Ought not Christ to have suffered these things and so to enter into his glory.”

And beginning at Moses and all the prophets he expounded to them in all the scriptures the things that were concerning him. And they drew nigh unto the town whither they were going, and he made as though he would go farther.

But they constrained him saying: “Stay with us, because it is towards evening and the day is now far spent”. And he went in with them. And it came to pass, whilst he was at table with them, he took bread, and blessed, and broke, and gave to them.

And their eyes were opened and they knew him. And he vanished out of their sight.

And they said to one another, “Was not our heart burning within us whilst he spoke in the way, and opened to us the scriptures.”

And rising up the same hour they went back to Jerusalem and they found the eleven gathered together and those that were with them saying, “the Lord is risen indeed and has appeared to Simon.” And they told what things were done in the way and how they knew him in the breaking of bread. And they, going, told it to the rest; neither did they believe them.

Mark 16, 12, 13; Luke 24, 13–35.

V (G)

FIRST APPEARANCE TO THE APOSTLES

Now when it was late that same day, the first of the week, and the doors were shut where the disciples were gathered together for fear of the Jews, whilst they were speaking of these things, at length Jesus appeared to the eleven as they were at table, and came and stood in the midst of them. And he upbraided them with their incredulity and hardness of heart because they would not believe them who had seen him after he was risen again.

And he said to them: “Peace be to you. It is I. Fear Not.”

But they, being troubled and frightened, supposed that they saw a spirit. And he said to them: “Why are you troubled and why do thoughts arise in your hearts ? See my hands and feet. That it is I, myself, handle and see, for a spirit has not flesh and bones as you see me to have.”

And when he had said this he showed them his hands and feet and his side. But while yet they believe not and wondered for joy, he said: “Have you here anything to eat?”

And they offered him a piece of broiled fish and a honey-comb. And when he had eaten before them, taking the remains, he gave to them. The disciples therefore were glad when they saw the Lord.

He said therefore to them again: “Peace be to you. As the Father has sent me, I also send you.”

When he had said this, he breathed on them and he said to them: “Receive all you the Holy Ghost. Whose sins you shall forgive they are forgiven them; and whose sins you shall retain, they are retained.”

Mark 16, 14; Luke 24, 36–43; John 20, 19–23.

V (H)

THE APPARITION TO THOMAS

Now Thomas, one of the twelve, who is called Didymus [the Twin], was not with them when Jesus came. The other disciples therefore said to him: “We have seen the Lord.”

But he said to them: “Except I shall see in his hands the print of the nails and put my finger into the place of the nails, and put my hand into his side, I will not believe.”

And after eight days, again his disciples were within, and Thomas with them. Jesus comes, the doors being shut, and stood in the midst and said: “Peace be to you.”

Then he said to Thomas: “Put in your finger hither and see my hands and bring hither your hand and put it into my side, and be not faithless but believing.”

Thomas answered and said to him: “My Lord and my God.”

Jesus says to him: “Because you have seen me, Thomas, you have believed. Blessed are they that have not seen and have believed.”

John 20, 24–29.

V (I)

BY THE SEA OF TIBERIAS

After this Jesus showed himself again to the disciples at the sea of Tiberias. And he showed himself after this manner. There were together Simon Peter and Thomas, who is called Didymus, and Nathaniel, who was of Cana of Galilee, and the sons of Zebedee, and two others of his disciples.

Simon Peter says to them: “I go a -fishing.” They say to him: “We also come with you.” And they went forth and entered into the ship. And that night they caught nothing. But when the morning was come, Jesus stood on the shore, yet the disciples knew not that it was Jesus.

Jesus therefore said to them: “Children, have you any meat?”

They answered him: “No.”

He says to them: “Cast the net on the right side of the ship and you shall find.”

They cast therefore, and now they were not able to draw it for the multitude of fishes.

That disciple therefore, whom Jesus loved, said to Peter: “It is the Lord.” Simon Peter, when he heard that it was the

Lord, girt his coat about him, for he was practically naked, and cast himself into the sea. But the other disciples came in the ship, for they were not far from the land, but as it were two hundred cubits, dragging the net with fishes.

As soon, then, as they came to land, they saw hot coals lying and fish laid thereon, and bread. Jesus says to them: “Bring hither of the fishes which you have now caught”.

Simon Peter went up and drew the net to land, full of great fishes, one hundred and fifty-three, and although there were so many the net was not broken.

Jesus says to them: “Come and dine.”

And none of them who were at meat dared ask him: “Who are you?” knowing that it was the Lord. And Jesus comes and takes bread and gives them, and fish in like manner. This is now the third time that Jesus was manifested to his disciples after he was risen from the dead.

When, therefore, they had dined, Jesus said to Simon Peter: “Simon, son of John, love you me more than these?” He says to him: “Yea, Lord, you know that I love you.”

He said to him: “Feed my lambs.”

He says to him again: “Simon, son of John, love you me?”

He says to him: “Yea, Lord, you know that I love you.”

He says to him: “Look after my lambs.”

He says to him the third time: “Simon, son of John, love you me?”

Peter was grieved because he had said to him the third time: “Love you me?”

And he said to him: “Lord, you know all things-you know that I love you.”

He said to him: “Feed my sheep. Amen, amen, I say to you, when you were younger you did gird yourself and did walk where you would. But when you shall be old, you shall stretch forth your hands and another shall gird you and lead you whither you would not.”

And this he said, signifying by what death he should glorify God.

And when he had said this, he says to him: “Follow me.”

Peter, turning about, saw that disciple whom Jesus loved, following, who also leaned on his breast at supper, and said: “Lord, who is he that shall betray you?”

Him,therefore, when Peter had seen, he says to Jesus: “Lord, and what shall this man do?”

Jesus says to him: “So if I will have him to remain till I come, what is it to you? Follow you me.”

This saying therefore went abroad among the brethren that that disciple should not die, yet Jesus did not say to him: “He should not die”, but, “So if I will have him to remain till I come, what is it to you?”

This is that disciple who gives testimony of these things and has written these things and we know that his testimony is true.

John 21, 1–24.

V(J)

ON THE MOUNT OF GALILEE

And the eleven disciples went into Galilee, unto the mountain where Jesus had appointed them. And seeing him, they adored, but some doubted.

And Jesus, coming, spoke to them saying: “All power is given to me in heaven and in earth. Going therefore, into the whole world, preach the gospel to every creature. And, all you, teach all nations, baptizing them, in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost, teaching them to observe all things whatsoever I have commanded you. He that believes and is baptized shall be saved, but he that believes not shall be condemned. And these signs shall follow them that believe,-In my name, they will cast out devils; they shall speak with new tongues; they shall take up serpents; and if they drink any deadly thing, it shall not hurt them; they shall lay their hands upon the sick, and they shall recover. And, behold, I am with you all days even to the consummation of the world.

Matthew, 28, 16–20; Mark 18, 15–18.

********

The Resurrection of The Body

BY VINCENT MCNABB, O.P

INDEX

Unigenitus Dei Filius Jesus Christus venturus in fine saeculi, judicaturus vivos et mortuos et redditurus singulis secundum opera sua, tam reprobris quam electis, qui omnes cum suis propriis resurgent corporibus, quae nunc gestant ut recipiant secundum opera sua, sive bona fuerint sive mala.

“THE only-begotten Son of God, Jesus Christ, who will come at the end of time to judge the Living and the dead, and to reward each according to their deeds both the reprobate and the elect; all of whom will rise with their own proper bodies which they now bear, so that they may receive according to their deeds, whether good or evil.”

1.-MEANING OF THE DOCTRINE

This dogmatic decision of the Fourth Lateran Council held in the year 1215 A.D., will serve as the authority and guide in what we shall say about the Resurrection of the Body.

1. We must begin by saying that the doctrine of the Resurrection is an object of faith. Natural reason can neither prove nor disprove it. St Thomas says (4 Dist. 43 Qu. i Art. Qua. 3), “The Resurrection, simply speaking, is miraculous, and only relatively natural.” Therefore, as natural Reason deals only with the series of natural causes and effects, whereas Faith deals also with the series of miraculous causes and effects, the Resurrection of the Body can be accepted with certitude only by those who accept the authority of the Teaching Church.

2. We have given the dogmatic decision of the Lateran Council, because it is the fullest expression of the doctrine which is now of divine faith. TheApostles” Creed contained the words, “the resurrection of the flesh.” In the Nicene Creed (drawn up by the Council of Constantinople, A.D. 381) this was changed into the phrase “the resurrection of the dead.”

The two phrases denote the same doctrine. Butthe change of the phrase “ Resurrection of the Flesh “ into the “ Resur- rection of the Dead” had two advantages. First it was more Scriptural: the phrase “ Resurrection of the Flesh “ is nowhere to be found in the New Testament, but the phrase “Resurrection of the Dead” is found again and again, either incidentally or equivalently.

The second advantage was that the phrase “Resurrection of the Flesh “ did not satisfactorily silence those who thought that there need be no physical death antecedent to the glorification of the body. Milleniarists, who dreamt of a heaven on earth, were not inclined to believe that they could enter this heaven only through the gate of death. This wrong view was more directly countered by the phrase “Resurrection of the Dead” than by the phrase “ Resurrection of the Flesh.” Yet both Creeds meant to define the doctrine of the Resurrection of the Flesh or Body from death to everlasting life.

3. The Lateran dogma includes two doctrines: (a) The Resurrection of all mankind, and (b) the Resurrection of the identical body of each person.

The full doctrine of the Resurrection contains these two points; but as the General Resurrection is not commonly denied, and, moreover, may be taken to be included in the resurrection of the identical body, we shall explain and discuss the latter doctrine alone.

4. It is then the de fide doctrine of the Catholic Church that all men shall not only rise again with a body, but shall rise again with the same body they have had on earth.

For the moment we may remark that, according to this doctrine, the good and wicked will alike arise with their bodies. To be committed again to a body will not be either a supernatural punishment or a supernatural reward, but will be the supernatural accomplishment of a natural desire and state.

5. Moreover, the body which each human being will possess for ever will be his own body which he now has; it will not be his own merely because after the Resurrection it will belong to him and to no one else; it will not be a body that is given to him; it will be his own present body which will be given back to him.

So much is de fide for a Roman Catholic. But it is not yet de fidehow much is meant by the phrase “their own proper bodies which they bear.” Catholic theologians here are found to differ. (a) There is a group who hold that the Resurrection of the Body does not mean that the soul will be reunited to any particle of matter which belonged to its former body. The body which the human being will possess will be called “the same body,” because it will be quickened by the same soul. For these theologians, identity of the soul suffices for identity of the body.

(b) The larger group of theologians, following St Thomas, declare that mere identity of soul is not sufficient for identity of body. The soul must be reunited to at least some of the matter that once essentially belonged to it. The chief reason for holding this opinion is the phrase of the Creeds “resurrection.” If any matter could be formed by the soul, then the Church’s Creed need not be, “ I believe in the Resurrection of the body,” but “I believe in the formation of the body.” The theological discussion between these two groups of thinkers is, however, of so intricate a nature that we can leave it with this brief indication of its outline.

11.-THE WITNESS OF THE NEW TESTAMENT

6. Having explained the meaning of the Lateran decision, we may now presume to analyse the New Testament basis of the doctrine.

(a) We shall not deal with the proofs that may be adduced from the Old Testament. If it is true, as it seems to be true, that the doctrine of the Resurrection of the Body, like the doctrine of the Trinity or the Incarnation, is foreshadowed and foretold rather than revealed in the Old Testament, we may be content to refer to these foreshadowings which were differently interpreted by such loyal groups of Jewish thinkers as the Sadducees and the Pharisees. The Book of Job has summed up these dim shadows in its poignant hope:

I know that my Redeemer liveth

And in the last day I shall rise out of the earth

And I shall be clothed again with my skin,

And in my flesh I shall see my God. (Job xix, 25, 26).

(b) If we hold that the doctrine of the Resurrection of the Body is revealed in the New Testament-that is, if we hold that Jesus Christ clearly revealed the Resurrection of the Body-we must look for this revelation primarily in the Gospels. But in this matter, as elsewhere, the Gospel texts must not be dealt with merely mechanically, and, as it were, by a show of hands. This is a valid as well as a valuable way of investigating an alleged doctrine but the New Testament, and especially the Four Gospels, is too organic to be fully expressed by a mere mechanical interpretation. If history is but a mode of psychology, no sufficient valuation of its contents can be other than psychological. To interpret the four Gospels needs a certain knowledge of the four gospellers.

(c) Let us begin the interpretation of the four Gospels by the principle that the Revelation granted to mankind by Jesus Christ was primarily Jesus Christ. The Word was Himself the revealed Word. He was the Light that needed no further light to make Him manifest. He was the ultimate Truth, who could be identified and recognised rather than proved. The essential revelation of Jesus Christ was something that He was and did rather than something that He said.

(d) We may go a step further, and say that Jesus Christ’s essential revelation of the Resurrection of the Body was the Resurrection of Jesus Christ. It was not so much any previous or subsequent word He had spoken about it, as the very resurrection itself. St Thomas completes this thought by the profound principle that the Resurrection of Jesus Christ is the efficient and exemplar cause of our resurrection* (III Pars., Qu. 56, Art. I, ad 3m).

(e) Withthese principles in mind let us deal with the witness of St Mark’s Gospel: in other words, with the witness of St. Peter.

7. There is a detailed account of the Resurrection of the identical body of Jesus Christ on Easter Sunday (ch. xvi).

*A further motive of the Church’s doctrine may perhaps be found in the traditional belief in the Assumption of our Blessed Lady’s incorrupt, and therefore identical, body into heaven.

The fact of the Resurrection is supplemented by the mode.”And after that He appeared in another shape” i.e. His body could now change its shape. The account St Mark gives of the Resurrection is so succinct as to be chosen in the Liturgy for the Gospel of Easter Sunday.

The additional traces of the Resurrection are significant.

(a) There is the saying of Herod recorded by the three Synoptists, “John the Baptist is risen again from the dead”

(Mk. V, 4; Matt. XIV, 2; Lk. IX, 7).

(b) There is our Blessed Lord’s prophecy of the Resurrection. This was made after the Transfiguration, and is recorded by St Mark and St Matthew alone (Mk. ix, 9 Matt. xvii, 9).

(c) There is the answer to the Sadducees, who said, “there was no resurrection.” To them our Blessed Lord replied,

“Do ye not therefore err because you know not the Scriptures nor the power of God? For when they shall rise again from the dead they shall neither marry nor be married, but are as the angels of God” (Mk. xii, 4). This episode is common to the three Synoptists (Mk. xii, 24–26; Matt, xx, 25–33; Lk. xx, 29–38).

(d) A further element in our Blessed Lord’s revelation of the Resurrection is the miracle of raising from the dead. St

Mark, St Matthew and St Luke all record the raising of the child-daughter of Jairus; all record that death had touched her, so lightly that Jesus called it sleep (Mk. v, 39; Matt. ix, 24).

We may synthesise this sufficient doctrine of St Mark’s Gospel. We are given the essential revelation of the fact and mode of the Resurrection of our Blessed Lord’s body-together with a preliminary prophecy of it-and the common

Jewish doctrine, together with a defence of this against a carnal interpretation and all this entailed by the miracle of raising a child from the dead.

8. St Matthew has all that St Mark has, together with some characteristic matter of his own.

(a) He alone gives our Blessed Lord’s commission to the Apostles . . .”raise the dead “ (x, 8).

(b) With St Luke, he gives in the message to St John the Baptist . . .”the dead rise again” (xi. 5; Lk. vii, 22). 9. St Luke, the physician, could not fail to be interested in the ultimates of human life. It is characteristic of him that he has given us the fullest identifications of Jesus Christ’s birth and resurrection to life.

(a) It is therefore to be expected that the medical man has given us something like the fullness of a medical diagnosis in describing the identification and signs of Christ’s risen body. The last chapter (xxiv) of his Gospel is a minute study not only of the fact and mode of Jesus Christ’s risen life, but of the various signs of this life which Jesus Christ gave his

Apostles.

We must especially notice the scene where Jesus says, “See, my hands and feet, that it is I myself. Handle and see; for a spirit hath not flesh and bones as you see me to have” (Lk. xxiv, 39).

Again, “They offered Him a piece of a broiled fish and a honeycomb. And when He had eaten . . .” (ibid. 42). (b) A slender addition to the Resurrection doctrine, peculiar to St Luke, is the parable of Dives and Lazarus. “And he said to him, “If they hear not Moses and the prophets, neither will they believe if one rise again from the dead” (Lk. xvi,

31).

(c) St Luke is unique in recording two confirmatory miracles. He gives the raising of the daughter of Jairus from a death so recent as to resemble sleep, but he further gives the raising of the son of the widow of Nain from death so undeniable that already the body was on its way to the tomb (Lk. vii, 12, 15).

10.St John’s characteristic resolve to complete rather than to repeat the work of the Synoptists has led him to give us valuable supplements to the Resurrection doctrine.

(a) The Resurrection of our Blessed Lord in fact and mode is described by St John with extraordinary detail-one might almost see in it the cherished memories of an old man standing on the brink of the tomb. St John alone has recorded the piercing of the side of our Blessed Lord (John XIX, 34) on the cross, and not without a purpose. Where St Luke records that the risen Saviour invited the disciples to seeHis hands and His feet, St John records that “He showed them

His hands and His side.” The disciples, therefore, were “glad when they sawthe Lord” (John xx, 20). But sight was to be confirmed by touch, in order that identification might be complete. “Then he saith to Thomas, “Put in thy finger hither and see my hands, and bring hither thy hand and put it into my side”” (Ibid. 27).

(b) St Mark and St Matthew substantially agree in giving the testimony of the false witnesses before Caiphas, the

High Priest. These witnesses accused our Blessed Lord of having said that He would “destroy this Temple made with hands, and within three days, I will build another not made with hands” (Mk. xiv, 58). But St Mark added, “Their wit—nesses did not agree” (59).

In this disagreement of the witnesses, it might have been doubted whether the so-called prophecy was not a mere invention of the false witness. St John, with his constant desire to support the value of St Mark’s Gospel, assures us that the prophecy was not a perjury of false witness, but a prophecy of the resurrection of Jesus Christ’s Body.” He spoke of the temple of His body.When therefore He was risen again from the dead, His disciples remembered that he had said this”

(John ii, 21, 22).

(c)St John, who has not recorded our Blessed Lord’s apologetic references to the Resurrection against the false views of the Sadducees, has been careful to record His direct references. The fifth chapter, with its cure of the man at the pool of

Bethsaida and its heated discussion, might be looked upon as a sermon to Jerusalem on the Resurrection of the Body. The wholechapter should be read: “For as the Father raiseth up the dead and giveth life, so the Son also giveth life to whom

He will . . .” (25) “Amen, amen, I say unto you that the hour cometh, and now is, when the dead shall hear the voice of the

Son of God, and they that hear shall live . . . (58) . . . the hour cometh wherein all that are in the graves shall hear the voice of the Son of God. (29) And they that have done good things shall come forth unto the resurrection of life; but they that have done evil untothe resurrection of judgement.” These two chapters are a unique contribution to the doctrine of the Resurrection.

(d) Moreover, St John has made us all his debtors by recording that our Blessed Lord connected the raising and glorification of our dead bodies with His own condescension and humiliation in the Blessed Sacrament. The sixth chapter of St John’s Gospel might almost be called a second sermon on the Resurrection of the Body preached not to Jerusalem and Judea, but to Capharnaum and Galilee. Again this chapter, as the preceding chapter, should be studied in full, especially 39, “Now this is the will of the Father who sent me; that of all that He hath given me, I should lose nothing, but should raise it up again in the last day.” (44) “I will raise him up in the last day.” (52) “ If any man eat of this bread he shall live for ever.” (55) “He that eateth my flesh and drinketh my blood hath everlasting life: and I will raise him up in the last day.”

Our Blessed Lord has here pointed out the mystic connection between His own Body, which He assumed in time, and our bodies, which will last to eternity. (1) The Resurrection of the body unto life everlasting will depend on the reception of the Sacramental Body of Jesus in the Church. In other words, the Holy Eucharist is supremely the “Sacrament of the

Living.” (2) The difficulties which the human mind sees in the resurrection of the identical body from the ashes of death are paralleled and indeed outdone by the difficulties of the body of Jesus Christ in its sacramental existence. It would seem that if reason can accept the dogma of the body of Jesus Christ existing with all its accidents under the accidents of bread, there is no great mental hardship in accepting the resurrection of our identical body.

(e) Like the Synoptists, St John records a confirmatory miracle, the rising of Lazarus (John xi). It was well chosen for its purpose of confirmation. The miracle of giving back life to a dead body was not wrought on one so recently dead that death seemed but sleep; nor yet on one who, dead a few hours, was on his way to the grave; but on one whose body after three days” burial under a tropical sun was already undeniably corrupt. It is this stench of Lazarus’s tomb that “smells sweet and blossoms in the dust” which reminds us that though corruption of the flesh has taken away from our body something that once belonged to it, God will undo this corruption and give us back the body that was once ours. Thus St

John has reminded us that one of the greatest of his Master’s miracles was a victory over that corruption which seems to make the resurrection of the identical body impossible.

II. This manifold witness of the Gospels to the resurrection of the body prepares us to see how largely the preaching of the Resurrection of Jesus Christ entered into the apologetics of the early Apostles.

(a) St Peter in his first defence of the Church before the people boldly said (Acts iii, 15); “But the Author of Life you killed; whom God raised from the dead, of which we are witnesses.”

(b)St Peter’s first defence of the Church before the High Priest repeated this doctrine (Acts iv, 10). “Be it known to you all, and to all the people of Israel, that by the name of Our Lord Jesus Christ of Nazareth, whom you crucified, whom

God hath raised from the dead, even by Him this man standeth here before you whole.”

(c) The first official apologetic to the Gentile world in the person of Cornelius is but a repetition of the resurrection

The first official apologetic to the Gentile world in the person of Cornelius is but a repetition of the resurrection

43). “We are witnesses of all things that He did in the land of the Jews and in Jerusalem, whom they killed hanging Him upon a tree. Him God raised up the third day, and gave Him to be made manifest, not to all the people, but to witnesses, pre-ordained by God, even to us, who did eat and drink with Him, after He arose again from the dead.” (d) St Paul’s apostolic sermon at Antioch in Pisidia follows the lines of St Peter’s discourse at least in the matter of the Resurrection (Acts xiii, 30). “God raised Him up from the dead the third day. (31) Who was seen for many days.

. . . (34). And to show that He raised Him up from the dead not to return now any more to corruption . . . (e) But as St Paul stood at Athens before the Aeropagus, the spirit of Greek philosophy was dead, when it could be said of the kinsmen of Plato and Aristotle (Acts xvii, 31) “God hath appointed a day wherein He will judge the world in equity by the man whom He hath appointed giving faith to all, by raising Him up from the dead. (32) And when they had heard of the resurrection of the dead some indeed mocked; but others said: We will hear thee again concerning this matter.”

Small wonder that henceforth no little of St Paul’s zeal and genius was to be taken up by proving Jesus Christ’s resurrection from the tomb as the fact of the resurrection of the dead.

(f) The Pharisee-Sadducee dispute on the resurrection of the dead finally sent him a prisoner to Rome. (Acts xxiii, 6—xxiv, 15-xxvi, i, 32).

Thus the discussion opened by the Greek news-seekers of Athens had its re-echo in the long philosophical appeal to the Greek mind of Corinth (1 Cor. xv).

Other explicit references, not to the Resurrection of Jesus Christ, but to the general Resurrection of the Dead, are to be found in Rom. viii, 23; Cor. iv, 16, showing that at the time when the Apostle wrote this second group of epistles the thought of the Resurrection was habitual with him. Already in Thess. iv, 16, he had tried to comfort the Greek mind of the

Macedonians with the example of Christ’s risen body. Later on, the same conviction of Christ’s Resurrection being the cause and exemplar of our Resurrection found its expression in the last group of Epistles written from his prison in Rome, where he was awaiting trial and perhaps death. It is this circumstance which gives a peculiar power to the texts, Eph. i, 20; ii, 4, 6 ; Phil. iii, ii, 21 ; Col. i, 18; ii, 12. Already the writer of the Epistle could write . . .” Of the doctrine of baptisms and impositions of hands, and of the resurrection of the dead,and of eternal judgement” (Heb. vi, 2). In this final fragment of the New Testament the doctrine had received a formulation which was to pass bodily into the Catholic Creed.

111.-THE WITNESS OF REASON

We have said that the Resurrection of the Body, being a revealed mystery, is not provable by reason, but is acceptable only on authority. As a preface to “the Witness of Reason,” we set down the principle of St Thomas:

Whoever tries to prove” (a mystery of faith) “by natural reason derogates from faith in two ways:

First, as regards the dignity of faith itself, which consists in its being concerned with the invisible things that exceed human reason: wherefore the Apostle says that faith is of things that appear not (Heb. xi, 1).

Secondly, as regards the utility of drawing others to the faith. For when anyone in the endeavour to prove the faith brings forward reasons which are not cogent, he falls under the ridicule of unbelievers; since they suppose that we stand upon such reasons, and that we believe on such grounds.

“Therefore we must not attempt to prove what is of faith except by authority alone, to those who receive the authority; while as regards others it suffices to prove that what faith teaches is not impossible” (1a Qu. 32, Art. 1, English translation).

Since faith rests upon infallible truth, and since the contrary of faith can never be demonstrated, it is clear that the arguments against faith cannot be demonstrations but are difficulties that can be answered” (1a Qu. 1, Art. 8, English translation).

With these words of wisdom, which should not be forgotten, we now pass from the Witness of Scripture to the Witness of Reason to the Resurrection of the Body. It is significant that in replying tothe Sadducees Our Lord said: “You err not knowing the Scriptures nor the power of God” (Matt. xxii, 29). In other words, the revelation of Scripture is helped out by what our reason tells us of the omnipotent power of God. Here more explicitly than elsewhere St Thomas will be our guide.

(a) The first principle of reason is that the soul, as an intellectual and therefore simple substance, is naturally incorruptible and immortal (la Qu. 75, Art. 6).

(b) The second principle of reason is that the soul is not man (la Qu. 75, Art. 4). Even in the common speech of the people, that quarry of sound thinking, man is not said to be a soul, but to have a soul.

(c) The third principle of reason is that as man is not a soul, man is a soul and body. In other words, the body belongs essentially and not accidentally to the personality of man. It is well nigh incredible how common is a certain mild form of Manicheism, which seems to depreciate the human body as almost the sole source of sin, instead of being but a joint source and perhaps the lesser source in union with the soul.

It must have been forgetfulness of the essential goodness of the body and of its essential union with the soul that indicated such words as the following:

“As long as we suppose the mystery of death to be the division of soul and body, so long we must cling with a deep love to those remains which yet we are forced to regard with a kind of loathing.

We shall be ready to believe stories of miracles wrought by them; we shall be half-inclined to worship them. Or if we reject this temptation-because Romanists have fallen into it-we shall take our own Protestant way of asserting the sanctity of relics by maintaining that at a certain day they will be gathered together, and that the very body to which they once belonged will be reconstructed out of them. . . . If we did attach any meaning to that expression upon which St Peter at Jerusalem, St Paul at Antioch, dwelt so earnestly, that Christ’s body saw no corruption-we should not dare, I think, any longer to make the corrupt, degrading, shameful accidents which necessarily belong to that body in each of us, because we have sinned, the rule by which we judge of it here. How much less should we suppose these to be the elements out of which its high and restored and spiritual estate can ever be fashioned” (F. D. Maurice, Theological Essays, 5th Ed., pp. 143, 151). quoted by H. D. A. Major, A Resurrection of Relics (Blackwell, 1922, pp. 49, 50).

1. It is difficult to find the exact meaning behind these words. The phrase “corrupt, degrading, shameful accidents which necessarily belong to that body,” etc., seems to suggest either that sin has changed the substance of the body or that the body is the creation of some Manichean principle of evil.

2. Itis evident that if from these “corrupt, degrading, shameful accidents” there can be no fashioning of a spiritual estate for the body, still less can there be such a fashioning for the soul. It is clear that the qualifications, “corrupt, degrading, shameful,” which are largely metaphorical when applied to the dying or dead body, are literal when applied to the sin-dead soul. It is therefore evident that the incorrect doctrine of the death and resurrection of the body will lead to the denial of the spiritual resurrection and death of the soul.

3. It is astonishing that men such as Maurice are found to belittle the human body as if it was no part, or no essential part, of our being, when it is a question of the resurrection. But in other matters, as, for example, in the matter of asceticism, they are found to exalt the human body as if it were a great arid even a noble part of our being. Indeed, how otherwise could they retain a high opinion of human beings whose activities and pleasures are for the most part concerned with the body? How, too, could it be said, as it has been said by some, that the bodily procreative act is man’s highest act?

From these exaggerations, and consequent contradiction, we are spared by the Catholic doctrine that the body is essentially good and is essentially joined to the soul as part of the human personality. St Thomas has summed up the value of this in these words:

“If the resurrection of the body is scorned, it is not easy, nay, it is hard, to hold the immortality of the soul. For it is evident that the soul is joined to the body naturally: since to be separated from it is against nature and is accidental (per accidens). Hence the soul separated, from the body is imperfect as long as it is without the body. But it is impossible that what is natural and essential (per Se) should be finite, as it were, nothing, whereas what is unnatural and accidental should be infinite, This would be the case if the soul were to endure without the body. Hence the Neo-Platonists who admitted immortality supposed reincarnation: but this is heretical. Hence if the dead do not rise again our only hope would be in this life” (In 1Cor. XV).

(d) The fourth principle of reason is the goodness not only of the body, but of matter. Those who, in order to deny the resurrection of the body, are obliged to deny the goodness of matter, must find themselves in opposition to modern science, on two counts:

First, modern science, by its own definition, is mostly, if not wholly, concerned with what it perceives by the five senses; in other words, with matter. Now unless matter is essentially good, then modern science is mostly evil!

Secondly, if science is the knowledge of what comes to us through our bodily senses and in the next world we have no bodily senses because we have not a body, then the next world will have no science!

(e) Sometimes it is urged that modern science, with its new views of matter, has made it impossible to believe the Resurrection of the Body.

Mr. H. D. A. Major, in A Resurrection of Relics, quotes the following authorities:

Bishop Goodwin of Carlisle: “This view of the possibilities of the future resurrection is one which our present knowledge of matter and its laws renders it imperative on all wise men to discard. Matter which appertains to one body at one time appertains another body at another. The notion of particle being joined to particle, so as to reform a certain body, involves an impossibility. (The Foundations of the Creed, 2nd ed., p. 384).

“. . . . .it is the enunciation of a theory which a knowledge of the laws of matter shows to be untenable” (lbid, 390).

Canon C. H. Robinson, D.D.: “The belief was widespread in early times that the material bodies of Christians would one day be literally resuscitated and would rise from their graves in a form visible to material eyesight. . . . Modern science by showing that the particles of matter of which our present bodies are composed have previously formed part of the bodies of other beings, has rendered such a belief impossible” (Studies in the Resurrection of Christ, 1911, pp. 13- 17).

The most unscholarly, not to say uncharitable, quotation made by Mr. Major is from the same Canon Robinson, D.D.:

In an age when physical science had hardly come to the birth, and when a man would have been excommunicated or put to death as heretic had he ventured to suggest that the particle of matter of which his body was composed might already have formed part of the bodies of others who had lived and died before him, the only way by which a belief in the preservation of human identity could be expressed in unambiguous terms was by the use of the language which was adopted in the Creed” (sic!) Ibid.

On this we may say four things.

Firstly, this view of the constant flux of matter in the human body is so old that in the thirteenth century it has been elaborated by St Thomas in a manner that almost defies the untrained thought of our day. If excommunication and death awaited the daring thinker who would have propounded the “modern” theory, then through some miscarriage of justice the Angelic Doctor died a natural death in full communion with the Holy See!

It is almost incredible that a Doctor of Divinity should have made any such statement as that made by Canon Robinson, and still more incredible that it should be quoted by one who holds an influential place in the University of Oxford. It will go far to discredit the Modernist claim to scholarship, which we have hitherto admitted on the recognised right of the Rev. Dr. Rashdall.

Secondly, if the physical theory that the body is a passing flux of material particles disproves the survival of the body, then a kindred theory would seem to disprove the survival of the soul. For it is argued by very subtle thinkers that what we call the soul is but a series of states of consciousness- indeed, of states of present consciousness which as such are not sufficient to guarantee us the certitude of their being in organic unity with past consciousness.

If it be urged that although there is a succession of States of Consciousness, yet there is an abiding unity, it may be urged in reply that mutatis mutandis the same applies to the body. The patent empiric fact is the persistent unity, the scientific deduction is the flux of elements.

Thirdly, granted the fact-which personally I cannot call a verified fact-of the constant flux of particles in matter, it would seem that this does not disprove, but rather seems to prove the possibility of bodily resurrection. The alleged fact is that every particle in a body changes, and yet that the body remains the same.

Now consider the opposite theory, that no particle ever changes in a body. If this theory were true, there would be no evidence that a body can remain the same with change of matter. But as death does make a change of matter, the evidence for this theory would go to prove that a change of matter betokened a change of soul; in other words, that death makes it impossible that the same body should rise again.

Fourthly, the modern recent theories of matter are almost overwhelmingly on the side of the resurrection of the body. A writer in The Times summed up the present views of the nature of matter:

“On the physical side the phenomena of light, electricity, and magnetism are all being explained in terms of the electron. On the chemical side the properties and qualities of the arrangements of identical electrons are being explained in terms of the arrangements of identical electrons in different systems. There is, in fact, one unit of matter, the electron. And this unit of matter is itself immaterial” (The Times,March 7, 1922, “The Progress of Science”)

“Modern Science,” by saying that the unit of matter is itself immaterial, can hardly be taken to deny the possibility of the resurrection of the body; unless indeed it denies the immortality of mind, i.e. of the soul.

(e) The fifth principle of reason is that the soul is the Causa Efficiens of the body from the moment of its union to the body (Supp. Qu. 80, Art.1).

When the soul is reunited to such a part of its body as will allow us to call it the same body, we may well see an instantaneous recapitulation of the formative process. Cytology seems to tell us that the really living essential of the unitcell is almost infinitesimally small. Yet that microcosm has within it the power to form the macrocosm of the finished organism. If it is only acceleration of motion that we need for the full acceptance of the resurrection or re-formation of the body in modes akin to the formation of the body, science has now given us that almost frictionless multiplying gear which has no limit save the adhesive power of the gear metal.

(f) Perhaps in this hard matter of the bodily resurrection some hope of recalling men to unity may be found in the condition of the risen body. Theology lays it down that not the substance of the body, but only its condition shall be changed. Body will not become spirit; but whilst remaining body, it will become pliant and obedient to the spirit. Time and space will still remain. Some of the soul’s supremacy over time and space will be given by the soul as a dowry to the body.

One last thought may end this defence of the Immortality of man in terms of the Resurrection of man’s body. The Church, in thus seeming to cherish the lesser doctrine more than the greater, is keeping her own customary way. When once the doctrine of the Divinity of the Son and thus of Jesus Christ was officially defined, the Church was almost more intent on safeguarding His humanity than His divinity. The Oriental disregard for human freedom and personality made little account of denying the human will, and therefore the human freedom of Christ. But the Church understood that the sacred humanity could not be kept with the denial of a human will and freedom; and that ultimately, though the divinity of Jesus Christ did not rest on His humanity, man’s belief in the divinity of Jesus Christ did and does rest on the belief in His humanity.

In a kindred way the Church is certain that, whilst the immortality of the soul does not rest on the resurrection of the body, yet man’s belief in one may be imperilled by his disbelief of the other. For this reason the Church seems more concerned for the lesser than for the greater, for the sheath than for the sword, for the husk than for the kernel. Yet it is not in any mistaken view of the scale of values; but in a consciousness that what is of less importance may be in greater danger of being overlooked; and that the whole orb of truth, which the Church is commissioned to teach, must find a place not for what is most and best, but for what is all.

********

The Ruling Passion

THE STORY OF A RICH YOUNG MAN

BY DANIEL LORD S.J

INDEX

THE ocean liner moved rheumatically into its dock. Effusive little tugs, like terriers worrying the sides of an elephant, gave it a final shove, and then left it with disdainful toots. Gang-planks were thrust out, linking ship with shore, and the crowds on the quays shouted recognition and welcome to the friends who crowded deck-rails and larger portholes, flushed with the joy of home-coming and panting with as yet unrelated European adventures.

On the upper deck, slightly removed from the feverish crowd and watching them with something of condescension, stood a note-worthy couple. She was beautiful, with the firm vigour of youth and fresh air and careful grooming, and the right amount of make-up and the best that Paris could drape on its patrons-a lovely, clear-eyed, beautifully polished, very alive and yet slightly aloof bride.

He was in ripe middle age, tailored by Bond Street experts, who had disguised with a masterstroke of sartorial architecture the slight bulge that years and good living had thrust forward at his waist line. Ruddy and polished from the hands of a valet, with the lips of a wit and a cynic, the eyes of a shrewd patron of life’s grandstand, the hands of one who handled gold carefully, art appreciatively, beauty affectionately, and the world’s mighty with flattering reverence, he smiled first at the crowd and then at his bride.

GOLD-TIPPED

Two cameramen and two reporters standing on the dock had scanned the decks with practised eyes. Suddenly the tabloid reporter espied the pair.

“There they are,” he signalled to his mates.

“Correct,” agreed his cameraman, slipping a tripod from a back pocket to the crook of his elbow.

“And he looks like the cat that tipped the goldfish bowl, got the fish, and never got his feet wet,” continued the man from the conservative morning paper.

“She’s no fish, believe me,” replied the tabloid man, who was aspiring to out Winchell Walter, “but she’s got gold in the bank, gold in that famous blonde hair, and gold in the family plate, at least two hundred years old.”

“And him right out of lower Manhattan!” sighed the other camera man enviously. “Let’s see. Is she his third or fourth?”

“Third,” replied Infallible. “But each one has been a step up. Well, when you have the health of the Four Hundred in your hands, and can advise a temperamental husband or wife that Paris and a divorce is just the thing for the nerves, you’re entitled to give yourself the same advice. And this time he prescribed for himself a grand-looker like that, with the Howard millions attached. Why did not I take up medicine instead of reporting?”

“Let’s go before they begin to move,” demanded a cameraman. “Boy! She’s ready-made for the roto.”

HEADLINES FOR TWO

And they slipped through the crowd, passed the purser, who gave them a friendly nod, and found their way to where the couple stood looking over the heads of the crowd at the skyline that is Manhattan.

So the next morning’s paper ran headlines on the third-page, four carefully-worded paragraphs, and a delicatelyretouched photograph. Her picture needed no retouching. But he had learned to dread the heavy jaw line, the slight bags under the eyes, the extra chins discovered by the candid camera; publicity in times past had often made him shudder. So a tip carefully deposited guaranteed retouching, and the photograph showed him as a mature man, but not too, too mature for his youthful bride.

The news stories were generous. Famous and wealthy society physician, confidant of the rich (the readers of the tabloids rolled up their tongues the names of those who had attended his wedding breakfast in Paris), international wit and boulevardier, now returning to his native land with his charming bride-English heiress and society girl of three capitals. Long Island homes had been opened ahead of season to welcome them. In the interval, they were hesitating between their Park Avenue apartment and the penthouse on a mid-town hotel.

The bridegroom, with his famous and gracious wit, had slipped his hand over the hand of his bride and said to the reporters, “I may as well tell you what you already know. This is my third and (this you do not know) my last. One is foolish to try to cap a climax.”

So the romantic world, that loves a poor boy making good, remembered his humble East Side beginnings, his struggle through school, his cleverness in the office of an old but famous surgeon, his swift rise on the wings of charm and wit, his entrance into the confidence of the influential, his contempt for the drab hospital wards when one might sit in a luxurious office and advise delicate ladies infallible cures for imaginary ailments.

Almost overnight, it seemed, he had burgeoned into society’s favourite physician, to whose discreet ears were confided more anguishes of soul than woes of body, and who found that a doctor was not hurt by the fact that he could be the best beloved toastmaster, the impeccable guide to waist-coast, triptychs, the precise health resort in which to escape an annoying spouse, and the right Paris judge to whom to repeat the effect marriage was having on one’s health.

“A RICH YOUNG MAN.”

What the papers did not tell, though it was repeated over third-story fire escapes and in cramped courtyards, back of tenements, and at more than one luncheon-table where alumni of a certain famous Catholic college foregathered, was the story of his devotion as an altar boy, his astonishing thanksgiving after Holy Communion, his perfect manners, which irate mothers held up to the grudging admiration of less perfect offspring, the fine manly Catholicity of his high school days, his leadership in debate and in religious enthusiasm at college, thoughtfully, perhaps hopefully, toward the sanctuary, until . . .

(Ah, there it is again, that awful word. Until! Just an “until” between a fine young man and the stalwart service of God. Just a rotten little conjunction to turn a man from the path that leads toward heaven into the path that is marked by the feel of earth with a trace of cloven hoof between. Just one little time clause thrusting itself between the soul and sainthood.)

. . . until he had learned that his cleverness was convertible into shining, round gold and into the sugary adulation of the rich; until he found that faith, with its scruples, blocked a path of leisure and luxury, until he looked upon himself and sa w that he was fair in women’s eyes and brilliant in the ears of the world.

FATAL WORD

Until . . .

Alas for the careers for God that have been smashed, for the lives that have been turned from high purposes, for the brave achievements that have come a cropper on one weakness that was often enough an apparent strength! Judas, the trusted treasurer of the Apostles until the love of money entered and sucked dry his soul. Pilate, quite ready to release Christ and become the world’s outstanding man-the man who first defied a mob for His sake -until the dread of Caesar’s disfavour blocked the ways of justice.

Abelard, knightly defender of the Faith, until a woman’s eyes smiled too bewitchingly.

A certain rich young man, who might have become another Eagle of God, until his hand touched and clung to the gold that nestled warm and reassuringly in the purse that hugged his thigh.

Until . . . unless . . . except . . .

NO SEQUEL

To me it has seemed almost a pity that we see no more of the rich young man after he leaves the side of Christ, returning to his wealth that was too great to renounce. I for one, am deeply curious about what happened to him then. Perhaps the Evangelists knew no more to tell. Certainly he never returned to the Christ he left so reluctantly, for the Gospel story would have given us a hint if there had been any known aftermath. The Evangelist hastens to inform us that the reluctant Simon of Cyrene was father of well-known Christians of a slightly later day. But the rich young man departs, and the Gospel gives us no clue to his future.

Did the Evangelists hesitate to tell the sad sequel? Did they know what happened to him later on? Or was he swallowed up as completely as if he had been struck down and killed on his homeward journey by a run away chariot? Certainly he never enters the life of Christ again. He might have been an apostle. He becomes, as far as Christian history is concerned, a non-entity.

WEALTH DESPISED

Yet here was an exceptional young man. He was deeply good. He awoke love in the heart of the Saviour. He came with an immaculate youth to offer to Christ. He was generous-up to a point. He came to Christ with the highest intentions. Christ, he probably believed, would be delighted to use his money to outfit a regiment or buy the allegiance of public leaders or pay the salaries of orators and notable organizers. So he generously offers himself and his money to the cause of Christ.

And for the first time he saw his money regarded as fit only to be given to the poor. That shocked him deeply. He could not understand such an unintelligent command. Money was to be used, not to be thrown away. He couldn’t in conscience follow an order like that.

He was eager enough to serve Christ and follow Him until . . . until it meant ridding himself of his villa, his beautiful horses, his comfortable living, the sense of power that came with gold at his side and gold in his strong-box.

So he turned away sorrowing.

But what happened then? We can see what happened to Judas or Abelard or Martin Luther, but the story of the rich young man is shrouded in oblivion. We can follow the path of the young college man who turned from the altar to serve his own cleverness and the pleasure-loving rich. But the story of the rich young man in the Gospel escapes us.

POSSIBLY THIS

I have often wondered what that story was, when suddenly it came to me. The story of the rich young man who turned away from Christ, probably was much the same as that of every man or woman who served Him faithfully until-until wealth or cleverness or luxury or friends or talent or work got in the way. In the light of the career of that brilliant physician there on the liner and the thousands like him, great in spiritual possibilities and potential heroism until the fatal weakness spoils their lives, I felt I saw the story of the rich young man.

True? Probably not. Possible? More than possible. At any rate, here it is as I see it. Let it stand on its own plausibility.

THE STORY CONTINUED

“Go, sell what thou hast and give to the poor, and come, follow Me.”

These words, these to him incredibly stupid words, with which Jesus had answered the young man’s brave offer of service kept ringing in the little bells that jangled about the ears of his sleek mule, kept rhythmically recurring in the wheels of every passing cart, kept knocking with the insistence of half-remembered music against the ramparts of his soul. The rich young man rode as through a fog. The words simply did not make sense. Evidently, quite evidently, this Christ had a visionary’s ignorance of money and its value. Poor all His life, He probably had no idea what money could do for Him. Money would easily smooth His way to the throne of Israel. Why, the money he had offered Him, He could have spent on arms or mercenaries or bribes or fees. That was reasonable and sane.

But give it to the scurvy rabble to spend stuffing their bellies or drinking themselves back into the gutter? That was not the sort of wisdom one expected from a Master or a Messiah. Kings were not so careless of the gold that bought and cemented their power.

SLEEPLESS

Late that night he lay under the figured silk canopy on the flat roof of his villa. Around him, under the silver of the moon, lay his gardens, in the midst of which splashed a fountain, each drop of its tossed water a little firmament circling the rainbow.

Off in the stables his horses and mules moved restlessly in the hot night air. Somewhere near him a servant, watching through the night on the chance that has master might desire a cooling drink, plucked a few drowsy chords on his zither.

The rich young man tossed uneasily on his rich couch. Giving all this this up was not the act of a sane man. Money was power, and power was essential for the King of Israel. No, there must be another road to the perfection for which his heart ached. Christ had failed to show him that road.

A HIGHROAD

Levi the Pharisee showed it to him eagerly enough. They sat down at the long banquet table, where Christ had forgiven Magdalen, and Levi and his Pharisee friends talked eloquently and long. The silk curtains about the room swayed in the hot breeze of the late afternoon, but the rich young man was caught and held as Levi told of the glory of Pharisaism. Reverence for the law which Moses had given their forefathers, and which this Jesus despised and tossed aside; exactness of fast and ritual and length of fringe and garments that command the respect even of the smelly multitudes-these were the things that supremely mattered.

Why, even the publicans, Rome’s hired scavengers, bowed low to the Pharisee as he kicked them from his path. Sentinels of the law of Israel, scrupulous guardians of its least provision, ruthless avengers of its slightest infraction- these were Pharisees.

Let this Carpenter have the scum of fishermen and sailors and publicans and women; for a youth of the cleverness and wealth of their honoured guest there was the company of Judea’s best and cleverest. They rose and bowed ceremoniously to this new Pharisee; they were proud to welcome a new zealot of the law.

This, he felt, was perfection. So, scrupulously, he learned the purifications, wore his phylacteries and his long fringes, modelled his walk on that of his tutors, learned to pull his skirts aside when a sinner passed his way.

Then when, a month later, the rich young man, dressed in the immaculately purified raiment of a Pharisee, passed Christ sitting by the wayside, soiled with the mud and dust of much journeying, and talking to a crippled beggar while He held a tousled-haired baby in His arms, he wondered how he could have thought even for a moment that this itinerant preacher could show him the way to perfection. Even the glance of Christ, lifted in pleading recognition, fell like a broken arrow from his armour-cased soul.

DARK PLOTS

Still, at the councils of the Pharisees, when the name of Christ was mentioned with venom and undisguised hatred, he found it hard to side enthusiastically with those who sent spies to trick Him or who weighed the cowardice of Pilate and the cupidity of Herod as they nosed about for the more pliable judge to sign His fore-ordained death warrant.

One evening Levi cried in sudden inspiration, “You have talked with Him. He may still regard you as His friend. We need further evidence for His trial. You are just the man to question Him and trick Him in His speech.”

The others applauded roundly and urged him on to the snare. But the memory of those kind, guileless eyes came between him and this scheming, and he turned away, a sharp loathing of the Pharisees and their plots nauseating his soul.

A CHANCE MEETING

Indeed, all Jerusalem seemed filled with the presence of the Man. The talk ran continuously to tales of His miracles, echoes of His sermons. It irritated the rich young man, that it seemed impossible to escape Him and the reminders of His mission.

Once, as he rounded a corner, walking with his newly-acquired dignity, one of the young disciples almost bumped him. (John, he seemed to recall, the fellow was named). The disciple stopped, smiled in a hopeful glance of recognition, and waited for a response.

But with haughty look, the rich young man saw his patched garments and work-hardened hands, and he passed on without a sign of friendliness. And John, stock-still in the midst of the road, followed him with puzzled, disappointed eyes.

NEW LANDS

Travel, our young man decided at last, was the thing he needed-travel and a chance to learn of the world and its ways. And travel would take him far from the insistent presence of this Jesus Who so upset the city. He clapped his hands, summoned his steward, bade him make haste and hurriedly set his personal affairs in shape for the trip.

His gold bought him passage on the first and swiftest galley leaving for Alexandria. His prestige gave him entrance to the houses of wealthy Jews in the ghettoes of every city he visited. He found himself welcomed because of his wealth and his youth, honoured because he was a Pharisee and from the very heart of God’s chosen people.

Often people asked him if there were news of the promised Messiah.

“The Messias is long a-coming,” he would answer loftily and change the subject.

But one old man, bearded like a prophet, and with eyes that hungered for the coming of the Christ, asked, “We have heard much of a man called Jesus. They say He does marvels and speaks as no man spoke before. Is He, think you, perhaps the promised one of Israel?”

To which came the curt reply, “Once even I was almost deceived. But He consorts with publicans and sinners and breaks the law of Moses. We Pharisees know Him for what He is, a deceiver of the people.”

And a film of disappointment clouded the old man’s eyes as he shook his head.

GOLDEN ROME

It was at Ostia, seaport of Rome, that the young man met a clever old Jewish moneylender, who introduced him to a young Roman patrician, long in family tradition and short in purse. “He is your key to Rome,” said the old Jew slyly. “Keep your key well oiled.”

In the Roman’s company he first saw Rome, the new Rome built by Augustus, with its glistening white palaces, its temples set in luxurious groves, its crowded forum and busy law courts, its broad highways trampled by the resistless feet of conquering legionaries and the restless caravans of rich commerce, its seven hills standing like glorious sentinels over the wealth and power and luxury that all the world poured as tribute at the feet of its queen.

Luxury such as Judea had never dreamed of seemed the commonplace of the city. Though with Pharisaic rigour he refused invitations to dine, and shuddered at the suggestions that he visit a temple when the procession wound in garish splendour to honour a goddess, the very atmosphere was saturated with pagan love of colour and dance and wine and mirth and gods, human in their vices, and goddesses, best loved for their yielding to the arms of men. All about him was contempt for human life as he saw it in the arena and the slave markets. The love of lust and the lust of living were in the theatres and the racecourse, and the restless tides of the Forum, the markets, and the sleepless palaces.

It was a new world and a wonderful one, and the well-oiled key that was his guide opened it as far as his new-found Pharisaism would permit. And when he raised a stern forbidding arm against some avenue of unexplored pleasure, he winced at the mockery and cynical scorn that he saw on the lips of his Roman friend.

GATHERING CROWDS

The boat that carried him back from Ostia to Judea, moved all too swiftly; and when he drove his chariot down the streets of Jerusalem, the roads seemed rough and narrow and rutted, compared to the broad avenues that were Rome’s, while the building he once thought monuments or grandeur were hovels compared with the palaces he had seen in Italy.

Indeed, so absorbed was he in his new and contemptuous attitude towards the city he once had loved, that he drove almost oblivious through the ominously gathering crowds that more and more clogged his way. Suddenly he realized that his horses had stopped, caught in the human jamb that filled the road.

Like the Roman patricians he had seen, he lashed his horses into the crowd. But this was not Rome, and Jewish independence was quick to resent and quicker to put a halt to his rashness. His whip was pulled from his hand, his chariot came to a dead stop, and a score of grimy fists were lifted threateningly in his face.

But after one quick flash of hostility they paid little attention to him or his frightened horses. Their whole soul seemed concentrated on the Praetorium that loomed stern and frowning just to his left. There were murmurs that rose to occasional shouts, but beyond the fact that crucifixion was mentioned, he could gather little from the incoherent rumblings.

DOOMED

As the rich young man looked about, a hand touched his elbow and the face of a Pharisee smiled up triumphantly. “Today,” he cried, above the growling of the crowd, “He dies-this Jesus, the impostor.”

Flinging a coin to a boy and bidding him hold his chariot, the rich young man slipped down into the crowd and followed the breathlessly-eager Pharisee up a back lane to the top of Calvary. There, as from a reviewing stand, he watched the crowds pour out of the city, saw Christ staggering through them with His Cross, watched the painful ascent of Calvary, and heard, blow on blow, the riveting of the mangled body to the Cross.

SHAMED ESCAPED

Under the Cross one thought kept recurring to him with ceaseless, reassuring monotony. “And I might have given all I possessed to be a follower of this man!” The taunts of the rabble, the cold but piercing sneers of the priests, the voices of the Pharisees, shrill with triumph, hardly reached him. The words of the dying Christ passed unheeded as he hugged himself with joy at the narrow escape that had been his.

To think he might have been like the young John there, watching the collapse of all on which he had staked his life! He might have been one of the hunted things that yesterday were disciples and now sulked in cellars and behind locked doors, just one stride ahead of the drawn swords of pursuing soldiers! He might have been inthe scattered ranks of this failure’s followers! What an escape! What an escape!

GRACE FROM A TOMB

On the Sunday that followed, he sat among the abashed and terrified group of Pharisees who met to face the problem of an open, empty tomb, and soldiers who chattered in terror of angels and a risen Christ. Here was a dilemma none had foreseen-a choice between admitting the triumph of this rejected and crucified King or fashioning a chain of lies that would bind them fast to each other and to their rejection of Him.

“And I am for Christ,” said Nicodemus, leaping to his feet. They had long suspected him of sympathy for the Christ, and now they sat back dumbfounded at his profession of faith.

For a moment the rich young man hesitated. An empty tomb that had been sealed and guarded by soldiers was hard to lie away. Grace knocked vigorously, as grace some times knocks at its second visitation. But before he could decide, decision was made for him. Trembling with fury, the Pharisees leaped to their feet and thrust Nicodemus from their midst. Blindly they rushed into the plot that sealed the tragedy of Judah and drove the Chosen People from the arms of God into the desolate exile of uncounted centuries.

FAITH DIES

The rich young man sat for days and nights on the roof of his villa fighting for what faith was left in his soul. The splash of the fountain only irritated him with its insistence. He sought shelter under the silken awning from the mellow light of the waning Paschal moon. He greeted with a sharp rebuff the servant who proffered refreshment. He was facing the future, and his faith was dying in his heart. Christ’s claims to his allegiance he simply could not consider. Certainly he could not bow to his knees before a crucified carpenter. That was unthinkable. A triumphant king, no matter where born or how reared, could demand homage. But not a king born in a manger, reared in a carpenter shop, and, in the end, dying, cast off by God and the people.

Yet Judiasm and the Pharisaism to which the rich young man had given his loyalty were poor things indeed if a broken tomb made them tremble, and plots and lies and sharp persecution of living witnesses were their means of staying alive. No, the old faith was dead. What did the future hold?

Yet, over the horizon hung in compelling splendour the glory of Rome-Rome, where men were warriors and statesmen, not priests and tradesmen, and where women chose goddesses on whom to model their figures, their fascinations, their brilliance, and their morals. Rome was the centre of high enterprise, not petty squabbles. No mere carpenter could upset the even balance of its calm, onward march.

BACK TO ROME

Rome was of tomorrow, Jerusalem was of a faded yesterday. The eagles of Rome, with their outstretched wings, shadowed even the seven-branched candlestick of the Temple. Who knew but what the empty Holy of Holies might yet hold a statue of the emperor?

The rich young man rose from his couch and, standing by the stone balustrade, looked contemptuously over Jerusalem. Even in the darkness he could feel the terror of the Pharisees over a crucified man reported to be risen from the grave. Rome would know how to care for escaped criminals and impostors.

His arms went out in a widespread embrace. Rome it would be-Rome and the glory of life as men could live only in the capital of the world; Rome, of which he still held the golden key, well oiled.

THE KEY OF GOLD

Venal Rome welcomed him gladly. There was nothing in Rome that money could not buy, and he bought freely: a palace in which to entertain his patrician friends; a box at the theatre and the games; friends in abundance to grace his banquets and drink his wine and praise his wit; Roman citizenship, with its privileges; a succession of lovely girls, until the day he grew tired of them and bought himself a grave, dignified Roman wife.

He could hardly dare say that he had bought her. But his money made her gracefully overlook his Hebrew blood and Oriental back-ground. She could scarcely do less when his money rebuilt the shattered fortunes of her family and gave her father luxury in his declining years.

Complacently his Roman wife noted that her children were the better for their Jewish father. She gave them beautiful bodies and poise and dignity, he added the element of mental brilliance so characteristically Jewish. As for himself, he was vastly proud of his children, sturdy little Roman boys and girls, with the added finer sensibilities and quick perception of beauty and art that came from his race.

FAITHLESS RELIGION

He boggled at religion for quite a time. He had discarded his Jewish faith, with its elaborate ritual; he was not fool enough to be mentally or spiritually caught by the hollow shell that was paganism. Soon, however, he learned that religion at Rome was a social and political affair merely. The peasants back in the hinterland might still believe in the power of the gods who presided over their villages and blessed their tables and marriage beds, but the sophisticated Roman saw in religion merely the external manifestation of loyalty to the State in the person of the emperor and a good chance for festivals that kept the mob content and stultified.

So the rich young man made his regular visits to the Pantheon, and, after offering his grains of incense in company with his Roman friends, sat down to table to laugh with them at the folly of all religion and the completeness with which it had disappeared from the lives of all really intelligent men and women.

“Religion,” he once remarked, “is right enough for servants and for women who still believe their place is the home. It means very little in the modern world of big business or at the council tables of those who really rule the world.”

FAR AWAY

Sometimes at night, when he sat in the central garden of his house the plash of the fountain reminded him of the plash of that other fountain back in Jerusalem, which had been the accompanying music as he fought the desire to join Christ, and then the fear of going faithless into the life ahead. How far away all that seemed now, when he felt about him the warm insistence of the luxuries and refinements that touched him so nearly and dearly! Could he ever have been caught up in the whirlpool of hot fanatics and pseudo-Christs who seethed through the waking hours of Jerusalem? From the calm Roman peace in which he now lived, it all seemed so crude and irritating and loud and blatant and fantastic!

As if men really worried about their souls when they had just returned from the warm stimulation and cold shocks and skilful massages of the baths to sit down with friends at a banquet board, for which the vineyards and granaries and orchards and herds of the world had been robbed! As if men wasted time longing for a Messiah, so long as Roman armies held the world in the Roman peace and the fleets brought daily tribute to Roman patricians.

He admitted, sometimes with surprise, that he never missed the Temple. He preferred the crowded Pantheon, vast enough to welcome all the gods, because none of them really existed. He contrasted contemptuously the Pharisee’s hot wrangles over unimportant details of the law with the Stoic’s calm weighing of all truth and his acceptance of none, his cynical admiration for every doctrine, because all of it was moonshine and the stuff of dreams.

Gold, power, art, peace, comfort, a home with a dignified wife and blossoming children, friends who loved life even while they laughed at it-these were the things that one could measure and hold and build into the full, rounded days of full-blooded Rome.

A QUEER RETURN

Yet, as the days went on in eventful, unruffled succession, strange rumours came that the influence of the Christ he had seen crucified still lived. Christ’s followers, dirty chaps of the tradesmen class, when they were not slaves or freemen still chafing from the recent chains, had actually come to Rome. They were telling the slaves in rich men’s kitchens and stables of a new freedom that laughed at chains. They talked equality and the sonship of some new God to sweaty oarsmen on the rowers’ bench. They had dared to lift their eyes and talk of Christ to the women of Caesar’s household. And (the patricians saw delicious irony in this) they were urging members of Nero’s court to personal purity!

Naturally, the Emperor, for the good name of the city, had to issue edicts against them. He was courteous enough to any new god preached in Rome, provided that he was preached with dignity and to the accompaniment of esoteric rites in the Oriental ritual. But one must draw the line at a god whom his predecessor’s soldiers had crucified as they would crucify a slave.

Briefly, the rich young man wondered if Christ’s empty tomb had meant more than a theft of the body by apparently whipped and cowering disciples. A risen Christ would be interesting-though slightly disturbing to the calm of his wellordered life.

FROM HIS SCULLERY

The scarcely titillating doubt, however, disappeared when his steward brought word that one of his own servants was telling the slaves in his out-houses that Christ loved the poor and the weak more than the rich and the strong. He had even, the steward said, with shocked countenance, drawn a charcoal cross on the kitchen wall.

While he waited for the police to arrest the fellow, the rich young man (richer than ever for his goods had multiplied, but young no longer) sat beside his wife and talked to the smelly servant, who was dragged up from his place in the scullery. (“The same sort of fellows,” he said in an aside to his wife, “that this Jesus had for companions in life. Not a man of wealth or culture among them.’)

He told the servant, as befitted a kindly patron and master, that Christ had long since been discredited; it might surprise him to learn it, but he himself had the good fortune to be a witness of His execution. Rome would never tolerate His teaching and His worship in a State that had officially put him to death.

Strangely, though the fellow still had on his hands the filth of the scullery, he talked fearlessly, and apparently looked forward with gladness to imprisonment and death. Of course, he knew that the penalty was death? Clearly he did, and he didn’t seem to mind.

“At least,” said the rich man, magnanimously, “if you decide that life is sweet after all and give up your nonsense, you may come back into my service. Who am I told to hold a man’s opinion against him? All opinions are equally unimportant-provided they do not disturb the State. And, though you would hardly suspect it, this Christ, in a distant day (I was a mere lad at the time), almost deceived me.”

Yet he stood thoughtfully in the arched doorway as the servant head erect and the light of Victory in his eye, was led forth by the soldiers to die.

LEADERS TRAPPED

Of course, the talk about His followers and their preaching and their converts and their fanatical deaths, soon became the common chatter of the Forum. The mob grew much more interested in seeing them kneel passively in the path of snarling tigers, than it did in seeing the best trained gladiator die. Nero thought up clever ways of serving the entertainment of his guests at the same time that he served the ends of justice, and his gardens became the scene of scores of executions prettily done and with amusing finesse.

As he was a man recognized as of patrician rank, with a fortune that, due to his unrenounced Jewish gift of trade, increased with the years, Nero offered him a special box when Peter and Paul, finally rounded up by spies, were to be put to death. “When their leaders fall,” wise men said, “we shall have heard the last of these disturbers of the peace.”

Peter he remembered with surprising clarity. His tall figure and stern, slightly puzzled face, had stood out in the motley crowd of Christ’s followers that distant day in Jerusalem. Paul he could not recall; the name sounded Roman, though the man must, of course, be a Jew. Still, he felt singularly interested in seeing what the years had done to Peter, and how much farther he had sunk into the nonentity from which Jesus had tried to lift him.

A NOBLE DEATH

As they rode back together from the execution, which Nero had made a memorable event there at the foot of the Vatican Hill, the rich man talked over with his wife, the events of the day. She was, as usual, coolly uninterested. These executions were a matter for the police, and it vexed her mildly that any ado should be made about them. It puzzled her that her husband seemed to regard them as significant.

“Peter surprised me,” he was saying. “Quite a dignified old person he has become, with self-possession and almost a sense of power. He was, when I saw him last, a rough sailor in clothes that smacked of fish. The years have developed him surprisingly and I must say he died with an air. It isn’t easy to die with an air when one is hanging head-down on a cross.

THE STORY ENDS

“Well, that ends the final chapter of His history. I often wondered how it would all turn out. Some day, my dear, when we have plenty of time, if you think it won’t bore you, let me tell you how near I came-long before you knew me, of course-to throwing my fortune with His and theirs. I have never ceased to thank the lucky stars that guided my destinies that day. The escape, my dear, was just short of breath-taking.

“And yet, oddly enough, when today I looked at old Peter out there dying for that Christ, dead these many years, I saw myself for a moment in his place, and-”

“My dear,” said his calm wife, laying her cool hand on his, “something you’ve eaten has disagreed with you. And I positively forbid your attending any more of these ghastly executions.”

He shrugged his shoulders, as if throwing off a burden, patted her hand gratefully, and, as their chariot made its way over the Via Appia toward their villa, he talked of the new summer home he hoped to build on a delightful spot in the Tuscan Hills.

Next morning, a slave found him in bed quietly sleeping; but it was a sleep from which the first gentle call, the troubled touch, the terrified shaking, and all the mighty and dolorous clamour of his large household failed to rouse him.

The rich young man had gone to look once more into the face of Him from Whom, for the love of his great possessions, he had turned away sorrowing.

Until—This is the story of the rich young man as I saw it swiftly, and perhaps altogether inaccurately. It is not a pleasant story; but neither is the story of those other young men, rich in possessions or talents or high possibilities, who have looked upon Christ, felt the love in His heart for them, heard His call to service and turned away to their possessions and the insistent clamour of the world. Nor is that story only the story of young men; young women, too, have heard the call and seen the fascination of His Person, and yearned to follow Him, until Love came galloping down the road, love that meant the end of loving Him. Fame beckoned glitteringly in flashing lights across the heavens and blotted out the very stars of God. Fashion bound them with chains of silk and precious stones more surely than if they had been bound by chilled steel.

And older men have felt the urge to serve Him, until business grew too insistent in its demands. And older women have seen in Him their consuming interest, until selfishness crusted their hearts with plates that even His love could not pierce.

The fascination of the person of Christ is so striking and unmistakable, that the hearts of all the world are drawn instinctively towards Him. Instinctively, but not irresistibly. For, between all mankind and His perfect service (the perfect service that would mean their own happiness and the world’s salvation) lies just one thing. For each man and woman, one thing.

PREDOMINANT

That thing wise old saints have called the predominant passion. Movie sub-titles know it as the ruling passion. And it differs with each temperament and each individual’s gifts and attainments. Sometimes it is a positive inclination to sin. Sometimes it is a good quality that might be used for Christ, and yet, by that sad perversion possible in goodness, can be used against Him.

Everyone has said in his heart a hundred times, “How easy it would be for me to be splendidly good if it were not for this or that.” And “this” or “that” is the one thing that stands between us and sainthood, as money and the love of it stood between the rich young man and the beseeching figure of Jesus Christ.

With Wolsey it was ambition, awakened only when he had passed his fortieth year, and the magnificent gifts he might have used to cement England to the Faith, he used for his own aggrandisement and ultimately for the ruin of Christ’s cause in England.

The same ruthless energy that made Luther the man who dynamited united Christendom into a thousand warring fragments, might have made him a greater Xavier. Stiff-necked, he put his personal brilliance and mental genius before the clear voice of Christ’s Church, speaking with words of authority, and he went to face his Maker with the great cathedral that was Christian Europe falling in ugly heaps of ruins about his ears.

FOR GOOD OR ILL

It is strange what little things have turned rich young men and lovely young women from sainthood to lives that in Christ’s eyes were frightful failures. An exquisite voice that might have sung His praise hums the magic words that open the doors of Broadway and the easy, flower-strewn path of tragic failure. Beauty of face that might have some day shone down from a million walls, as does the beautiful face of the Little Flower or the strong young Gabriel, becomes the snare of hearts and the reason why the voice of Christ grows faint and finally hushed. Cleverness of intellect, that so easily could fight His battles in book and on the platform, leads to a drunkenness more subtle than any drunkenness born of wine.

Just one man or just one woman in the path a young apostle has marked out in the footsteps of Christ, and strong, apparently resistless, arms pull the apostle down another road, the end of which he dare not face.

The ruling passion in each of us can be taken (as John took his ruling passion, love of people), and be made to be the very reason for our greatness. On the wings of that mighty passion, consecrated by the first love of the greatest of persons, Jesus Christ, John rose to heights of human and divine love that gave him the right to cradle his head on the Sacred Heart of Christ, and inspired him to write the gospel of love and the epistles shot through with the consuming flame of a love that burned the earth and mounted to heaven.

ONE FATAL THING

The ruling passion in the heart of the rich young man, a certainly not sinful esteem for the goods of the earth, pulled him back from Christ, fastened him to earth with cords his maturing strength could not later break, and dragged him firmly, but surely, out of the gospel story into black oblivion.

And one ruling passion, the sudden love of the world, took the eyes of the young Catholic college man, swung them away from the hard path of the sanctuary, and focussed them with hypnotic strength on the wealth and fashions and pleasure and successive wives that came to him as society’s physician.

It is easy to be good and serve Christ until—Until . . . wealth . . . a sense of our own cleverness . . . Love of a good time . . . pride in our powers . . . the lure of beauty . . . self-will . . . the fascination of books we know are dangerous . . . a great gift like music or art or speech, used solely for its own sake and our selfish interests . . . fear for the contempt of those who hate the Faith . . . Laziness . . . fashion. Is your ruling passion in the list?

Boy or girl, young man or young woman, mature adult, you are either John the Divine or the rich young man.

And one thing alone determines this: The decision you make on whether you will rule your ruling passion or allow your ruling passion to rule you.

It must not stand between you and Jesus Christ.

********

The Sabbath Or Sunday

BY REV. P. C. YORKE, D.D

INDEX

THE WEEK

The grouping of days into weeks is a practice we meet very early in human history. The moon, as well as the sun, has been used as a measure of time. Indeed, as the changes in the appearance of the moon are so striking, the moon was employed much earlier than the sun for computing dates. Every child can observe the first quarter of the moon, the half moon, the three-quarters moon, the full moon. Her phases return so often that they are forced on human observation. Hence the ancient nations marked their time by the revolution of the moon.

The period in which the moon completes her course is, roughly speaking, twenty-eight days. This space of time is called a month. Now, as the moon has four quarters, it was but natural that the primitive peoples should use the quarter of a month as a measure of time. The quarter of a month is seven days. Thus the week of seven days is founded in the very nature of things.

We find this division very early in the Scripture. In the second chapter of the Book of Genesis we read, “God blessed the seventh day and hallowed it.” In the records of the Assyrians, a kindred people of the Hebrews, we discover that the first twenty-eight days of each month were divided into weeks of seven days each. Thus, as far back as we can go in human history we meet the week as a division of time.

THE JEWISH SABBATH

Among the Jews the week was built into the system of their religion. In the Ten Commandments we read,”Remember that thou keep holy the Sabbath day. Six days shalt thou labour, and do all thy works; but on the seventh day is the Sabbath of the Lord, thy God; thou shalt do no work on it, thou nor thy son, nor thy daughter, nor the man servant, nor thy maid servant, nor thy beast, nor the stranger that is within thy gates. For in six days the Lord made heaven and earth, and the sea, and all things that in them are, and He rested on the seventh day; therefore the Lord blessed the seventh day and hallowed it.”

Sabbath is a Hebrew word meaning “rest,” and all through the Old Testament we find the obligation of resting from servile works as the mark of the Sabbath day. The obligation of divine worship on the seventh day of the week is not found in the Old Testament. The Sabbath was hallowed by rest, not by prayer. Later in Jewish history the Sabbath became a day of prayer; but this result followed as a consequence of the rest from work. The people then had time to listen to the prophets. and to frequent the meeting places or synagogues. But, as far as the commands of God go, the Sabbath is intended primarily as a day of rest.

THE LORD “S DAY

When we come to consider the Christian Church, we find that its practice marks a complete break with the Old Testament. In the first place, the seventh day of the week, the Sabbath, is no longer observed. The seventh day of the week is Saturday, and it has been reduced to the same level as Friday or Thursday. One day in the week, it is true, is kept holy, but it is the first day, not the seventh. Sunday has supplanted Saturday. The Lord’s day, as it is called, has taken the place of the Sabbath.

Secondly, Sunday is primarily a day of prayer, not a day of rest. Servile work is forbidden on that day, but it is forbidden in order to allow the Christian leisure to attend divine service. In the Old Testament divine service followed as a consequence of the leisure granted by the Sabbath. In the new dispensation, rest from work follows as a consequence of the necessity of attending church on the Lord’s day.

THE PURITAN SABBATH

There is, therefore, a clear distinction between the Jewish Sabbath and the Christian Sunday. The early Protestants recognised this distinction. In England, the first attempt to confound the two was made by Dr. Nicholas Bownd, of Norton, in Suffolk. The Westminster Confession of 1647 was the first creed which held that the Jewish method of observing the Sabbath was binding on Christians. Everyone knows how this opinion was carried by the Puritans to America. In New England, the prescriptions laid down by Moses became part of the law of the land.

But while the Puritans thus restored the Jewish method of observing the Sabbath, they did not restore the Sabbath itself. They still continued to keep the first day of the week instead of the seventh. in England the principle was pushed to its logical conclusion by the Seventh Day Baptists. They were organised in America in 1671, at Newport. R.I., but they have not spread. At present they number about 10,000 communicants. The Seventh Day Adventists are an outcome of the Adventist movement. This was begun in 1831, by one William Miller, who predicted the end of the world, first for 1843, and then for 1844. When this date passed, the Adventists split into various bodies, one of which, organised in New Hampshire in 1844, declared that it was necessary to observe Saturday instead of Sunday, and that other Protestants were merely doing the will of Rome by keeping the first day of the week. Besides the Adventists and Seventh Day Baptists, the “Church of God” follows the same rule. This sect is a branch of the Seventh Day Adventists, which originated about 1864. It differs from the parent sect on such questions as health reform, abstaining from swine’s flesh, and the like.

INCONSISTENCY OF PROTESTANT PRACTICE

Thorough-going Protestants, who believe that the Bible, and the Bible alone, is their religion, can offer no logical reason for observing the first day of the week. They observe it because their fathers, who went out of the Catholic Church, observed it: and the custom has been handed down to them. But they are no more illogical than the Adventists themselves, who cling to this portion of the law of Moses, and reject the rest. The Adventists appeal to the Bible against the Sunday; but the Bible itself they have received from Rome, just as other Protestants have received the Sunday from Rome.

WHY DO WE KEEP SUNDAY”

It may be well to set forth, briefly, what are the facts about the change from Saturday to Sunday. Why is it that we keep the first day of the week, instead of the seventh?

In the beginning we must bear in mind that there is no reason in the nature of things why we should keep the first instead of the second, or the seventh instead of the sixth. If we wish to worship God, there is nothing in human reason to tell us that the worship should be paid on one day more than another.

It is, indeed, in accordance with reason that we should worship God. In order to worship God we should devote some time to the acts of worship. But there is no natural reason why we should give a whole day, rather than parts of several days; why we should give Saturday rather than Sunday or Monday.

THE SABBATH A CEREMONIAL LAW

Therefore, if God set apart the seventh day for rest, He did so by a special, particular law. His ordinance was on the same plane as the laws regulating circumcision, sacrifice, the vestments of Aaron, the distinction between clean and unclean meats, and the like. There is no necessity in nature why these things should be chosen in preference to others. God might have adopted other rites, other vestments, other classifications, if He so chose. But of His own free will, and for the good of His people. He chose those set down in His law, and as they were His choice, His people adopted, them.

CHRIST AND THE SABBATH

When Christ came upon earth the Jewish ceremonial system was in full vigour. The religion of the chosen people centred round the great temple in Jerusalem, where the sacrifices were offered according to the minute directions left by Moses. The Sabbath day was observed with exceeding strictness. Our Lord Himself was made subject to the law. He was circumcised, presented in the Temple and at the stated times went up to Jerusalem to adore.

Christ, however, came to fulfil the ancient law. It was to pass away. His one sacrifice was to abolish all other sacrifices. His priesthood, the priesthood of Melchisedech, was to supplant the priesthood of Aaron. Baptism took the place of circumcision, and the Law of Liberty cast out the Law of Fear.

As it was with those observances, so it was with the Sabbath. Christ enunciated two great principles concerning the day of rest, which explain the subsequent action of His Church.”The Sabbath is made for man, not man for the Sabbath,” is the first. The second is. “The Son of Man is Lord also of the Sabbath.” These two principles mean that the Sabbath law must give way, first, before the natural needs of mankind, and, secondly, before the supreme authority of Him Who called Himself the Son of Man. The Sabbath was under His dominion to set up or to pull down, to keep or to break, to preserve unaltered or to change.

THE CHURCH AND THE SABBATH

But it is in the books which follow the Gospels that we find the relationship of the Christian religion to the old dispensation fully set forth. From the beginning, there was a party in the Church which wished to enforce the Jewish law on the converts from Paganism. The Jewish faction tried to impose all the Mosaic regulations, such as the distinction of meats, circumcision, Sabbath keeping, and the like, on the new Christians. The Apostles met in Jerusalem, to consider the question, and they decided that it would be unwise to force on the Church a burden that the Jews themselves could not bear. The Epistles of St. Paul bear witness to the fierceness of the struggle, and to the zeal with which he vindicated the liberty of the Christian faith. The old ceremonial law was entirely abolished. With the old ceremonial law the Sabbath went too.

ST. PAUL AND THE SABBATH

It is not necessary to quote particular texts to show that the abolition of the Law of Moses is the burden of St. Paul’s teaching. The Seventh Day Adventists themselves admit this, because they do not practise circumcision, offer sacrifice, or observe the distinction between clean and unclean meats. Hence it is only necessary to show from the Bible that the Jewish Sabbath was treated precisely the same as circumcision and the other ordinances.

I.-AGAINST THE OBSERVANCE OF DAYS

The Epistle to the Galatians is one grand plea for the liberty wherewith Christ has made us free. St. Paul had made converts among the Galatians, but certain Jewish teachers had come in, telling them that it was necessary to obey the law of Moses. To these teachers the Galatians gave ear, and St. Paul writes to them,”I wonder that ye are so soon removed unto another Gospel from him that called you into the grace of Christ.” Then he goes into particulars, and specifies the charges he has against them. “But now after that ye have known God, or rather are known by God, how turn ye again to the weak and needy elements which ye desire to serve again? Ye observe days and months, and times and years. I am afraid of you, lest, perhaps, I have laboured in vain among you.” (Galatians i v., 9–11.)

St. Paul “s complaint against the Galatians was that they observed the law of Moses which had been abolished. In specifying the objectionable features he mentions the Mosaic regulations concerning”days and months, and times and years.” In other words, he declares that the calendar of the old law was abolished, and the principal feature in the ancient calendar was the Sabbath, which, therefore, is abolished, too.

2.-FOR THE OBSERVANCE OF DAYS

In dealing with this burning question of the observance of the Mosaic law in the infant Church. St. Paul was compelled, as in the case of the Galatians, to defend the non-Jewish converts from the indiscreet severity of the Jewish converts. But he was also compelled to defend the Jewish converts from the over-zealous radicalism of the non-Jewish converts. If some of the Jewish Christians wished to force the observance of the law of Moses on the Gentile Christians, some of the Gentile Christians, in turn, wished to hinder the Jewish Christians from following their ancestral rites. The Apostle took the common sense stand that the transition should he gradual. The Jewish party, being accustomed to the law of Moses, should be permitted to observe its restrictions. The Gentile party, not being accustomed to the law, should not be forced to keep its provisions. Both sides should live in mutual peace and tolerance. This is the argument of the fourteenth chapter of the Epistle to the Romans.

“ Now take unto you him that is weak in faith not in disputes about thoughts. For one believeth that he may eat all things; but he that is weak let him eat herbs. Let not him that eateth despise him that eateth not; and he that eateth not, let him not judge him that eateth. For God bath taken hint to Him. Who art thou that judgest another man’s servant? To his own lord he standeth or falleth. And he shall stand, for God is able to make him stand. For one judgeth between day and day; and another judgeth every day; let every man abound in his own sense. He that regardeth the day regardeth it unto the Lord. And he that eateth, eateth unto the Lord,” etc.

Here the question of observing days is put on the same level as the prohibition against eating unclean meats. The latter was abolished, therefore the keeping of the Sabbath and other holy days was abolished, too. The Jews who wished to keep the Sabbath should not be disturbed. The Gentiles who kept every day in the same manner should be left in peace.

3: THE SABBATH ABOLISHED

In the Epistle which St. Paul wrote to the Colossians he preaches the same doctrine, but more clearly. It was sent as a warning against those who would deceive them by loftiness of words,”Beware lest any man cheat you by philosophy and vain deceit; according to the traditions of men, according to the elements of the world.” Then he puts them on their guard against those who would enforce the Mosaic law upon them, and he says:

“ Let no man, therefore, judge you in meat or in drink, or in the matter of a feast, or of a new moon, or of a Sabbath day.” (Colossians ii., 16.)

By this warning he informed the Colossians that just as the distinction between clean and unclean meats had been abolished, so the Sabbath had been abolished too. They were to permit no man to judge them-that is, to compel them to keep the provisions of the law of Moses in regard to meat or drink or feasts, such as the Passover, or New Moons, or the Sabbath day.

THE SABBATH AND THE COMMANDMENTS

It is, therefore, seen by the clearest evidence that in the Christian Church, the Sabbath went the way of the rest of the Mosaic Law. But it may be asked, how could an express command of God be abrogated? The Ten Commandments tell us to keep holy the Sabbath day, and the Ten Commandments are still binding upon us.

But we must remember that the Ten Commandments form only a small part of the Law of God as set forth in the Books of the Old Testament known as Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers, and Deuteronomy. Besides the Ten Commandments, there are hundreds of regulations dealing with religion, telling how sacrifice should be offered, how God should be worshipped, how the people should live. All those laws are set forth with the same sanction as the Ten Commandments, and by the same God. If God, therefore, wished in the fulness of time to abolish those ceremonial prescriptions, and, if He did abolish them, there is no valid reason why He could not abolish the ceremonial part of the Ten Commandments.

THE UNALTERABLE PART OF THE COMMANDMENTS

In the Ten Commandments we find two elements. The first is the eternal law of right and wrong. which can never be changed. Thus it is always right to worship God and honour Him. God Himself cannot make that wrong. Therefore, the first three Commandments which inculcate: (1) The Unity of God; (2) respect for God’s Name; and (3) the necessity of offering worship to Him, can never lie abrogated. In the same way, respect for parents, the prohibition of murder, adultery, theft, false witness are founded in the nature of things, and God cannot change them. Hence those Commandments, too, must always last.

THE CHANGEABLE ELEMENT

But the second element is different. It consists of the means by which God enforced the eternal truths, the particular practices, by which He impressed His law on the minds of the Jews. For instance, the prime doctrine in His revelation was the oneness of the Divinity. There is only one God. The Jews were living in the midst of a people who believed in many gods, and worshipped idols. The countries round about were filled with the representations of false gods-gods in the shapes of beasts and birds and fish and men. The sight of such idols formed a great temptation to the Jews to desert the God of their fathers. Therefore, in order to enforce the Commandment to worship only one God, ,we have the ordinance, “Thou shalt not make unto thyself a graven thing, nor the likeness of any thing that is in the heavens above, or in the earth beneath, or in the waters that are under the earth:”

This prohibition was absolute, and was so understood by the Jews. Under Divine direction, they made a few images, such as those over the ark, but otherwise no image was found in Israel. When, however, the danger of idolatry passed away, this specific provision disappeared with the rest of the ceremonial law, and today men have no hesitation in making graven things and images.

Again, reason tells us that God made the heaven, and the earth and all things that in them are. God impressed this idea on the Jews, but they were continually forgetting it. The neighbouring people related how their various gods had made heaven and earth, and the Jews were naturally inclined to run after false gods.

In order to impress the truth that there is only one God, who made heaven and earth, upon their minds, the Sabbath was instituted:”Thou shalt do no work upon it, thou, nor thy son, nor thy daughter, nor thy man servant, nor thy maid servant, nor thy beast, nor the stranger that is within thy gates, for in six days the Lord made heaven and earth, and the sea, and all things that in them are, and rested on the seventh day; therefore, the Lord. blessed the seventh day and hallowed it.”

When the doctrine of creation was fully impressed on men “s minds, the Sabbath, too, was abolished by the Lord of the Sabbath. Like circumcision, which was the sign of God’s covenant with His chosen people, the Sabbath, which was the memorial of His creation, went into desuetude. Circumcision and Sabbath and the other elements of the law were the shadows of the good things to come. When Christ appeared they passed away. The reality took their place. Therefore, Christians are no longer bound to observe them, according to the Apostle’s words:

“ Let no man judge you in meat or in drink, or in the matter of a feast or a new moon or of a Sabbath day, which things are a shadow of things to come, but the body is Christ’s.” (Coloss. ii., 16.)

This, then, is the attitude of the Christian Church toward the Sabbath. It has passed away, and forever.

THE CHRISTIAN “S REST

Once in the New Testament is there reference made to a Sabbath keeping by the people of God. That reference is found in the fourth chapter of the Epistle to the Hebrews. The Christians are exhorted to enter into the rest of God, and the Apostle argues that that rest was not given to the Jews when Josue led them into the Land of Promise.

“ For if Josue had given them rest, he would never have afterwards spoken of another day. There remaineth, therefore, a day of rest (a Sabbath keeping) for the people of God. For he that is entered into his rest, the same also hath rested from his works, as God did from His.”

Here the reference is plainly to the Christians “ rest in heaven. The people of God shall enter into the eternal rest of which the Sabbath was a prophecy. Hence, there is no earthly Sabbath for the Christian people. It has passed with the other shadows now that the true light has come.

THE SABBATH OR SUNDAY

The greatest event in Christian history is the Resurrection of Our Lord. This stupendous miracle was the proof of His Divine mission and the pledge of the final victory over sin and death. The Resurrection took place on the first day of the week, and every Sunday, therefore, the Christians met in their assemblies to celebrate it.

In the Epistle to the Hebrews we find that such assemblies were the rule among the Christians. In chapter x., verse 25, the faithful are exhorted not to neglect the assembly:”Not forsaking our assembly, as some are accustomed.” In Acts xx., 6, 7, we read the day on which the assemblies were held:”But we fled to Philippi after the days of unleavened bread, and came to them to Troas in five days, where we abode seven days. And on the first day of the week, when we were assembled to break bread, Paul discoursed with them, being to depart on the morrow,” etc. The name which was given to that day is set down in the Revelations of St. John, chapter i., verse 10:”I was in the spirit on the Lord’s day.”

This is about all we find in the New Testament about the Sabbath and Sunday. It is clear from it that the Sabbath has been abolished, but it is not clear from it that another day has been substituted in its place. No one can prove from the Bible alone that Sunday should be observed more than Monday. If the Bible proves anything at all, it proves that no day should be kept.

WHERE DO WE GET OUR RELIGION?

But God never intended that we should depend on the Bible alone for the knowledge of our religion. At the very time the Sunday was coming into use, no Bible existed. For nearly fifteen centuries Bibles had to be copied by hand, and it was absolutely impossible for everyone to have a Bible. Moreover, the divisions and quarrels among Protestants show that they cannot agree as to what the Bible means. God did not leave His people without proper guidance. He established a Church which was to teach all nations, and to that Church He gave power to make laws concerning Divine worship :”All power is given unto Me in heaven and on earth; therefore, go ye and teach all nations, baptising them in the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost, teaching them to observe all things whatsoever I have commanded you ; and behold I am with you all days, even unto the consummation of the world.” (Matthew xxviii., 18–20.)

In accordance with this commission, we find the Church teaching the people to observe the first day of the week as the commemoration of the Resurrection. In the first, second, and third centuries we have the testimonies of the Christian writers that Sunday was kept as a day of prayer in the assemblies. The Eucharist was celebrated, and the whole day was devoted to the worship of God.

SUNDAY LEGISLATION

In the fourth century the persecutions came to an end, and Christians were given freedom of worship. In order to protect that freedom of worship, Constantine prohibited law business and mechanical arts in towns, and Christian soldiers were exempted from work. If Christians were bound by their religion to give up the whole day to prayer, it would certainly be unfair to compel them to work on that day. This was the spirit which animated the first Sunday legislation. It was a measure of religious liberty absolutely necessary at the time.

THE OBSERVANCE OF SUNDAY

In the beginning Sunday used to be reckoned from evening to evening. It was not until about the eleventh or twelfth century that the present custom came into vogue. The faithful were bound to assist at all the public prayers of the day, including Mass and what is known as Matins and Vespers. Practically the whole day was given up to prayer. This was the chief difference between the Sabbath and Sunday. The Sabbath was a day of rest; Sunday was a day of prayer. The Christian law to abstain from servile work arose as a protection to the right to worship.

Nihil Obstat:

J. Donovan,

Censor Theol. Deputatus

Imprimatur:

@ D Mannix,

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis

1932

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The Sacrament of Catholic Action

DANIEL A. LORD S. J

INDEX

OVER the heads of the kneeling young man and woman, the little boy and girl, the Bishop extends his hands tenderly. He lifts his eyes a trifle. He pronounces commanding words. And the wonderful thing has taken place.

The Holy Spirit has come. Soldiers have been consecrated to warfare under Christ, the Captain.

The Sacrament of Catholic Action has been conferred.

The storm that broke over the ugly world on Good Friday died out and burned away in the angry red of the sunset sky. The people hurried back to their homes, glad that the whole mess was over. A few faithful souls carried to a borrowed grave the broken body of the Man Who had claimed to be leader and king of all the world. The earthquake subsided; the wind fell to a whisper, the whole pitiful thing was ended.

But the storm raged on in the souls of the eleven men who had been closest to the dead Leader and who knew that, at the moment when they could have been of some slight help, they had proved to be astounding cowards and paltroons. They hurried away down back streets to seek safety, praying that no one would recognise them for who they were, or rather had been. When they finally reassembled in the upper chamber where He had, on the preceding night, given them the Bread that was His body, they had nothing to say, nothing to do, nothing to look forward to.

PUZZLED

And in that broken, bedraggled state they waited in the scarcely credited hope that perhaps those mysterious promises about a Resurrection might be more than another of His vain hopes.

But He did rise. He came to them. He had triumphed over death and His enemies, and the Apostles were agitatedly once more on their feet, wondering what next would happen. Certainly now was the time when they could count on His doing something spectacular and final. “Lord, is it now time to restore the Kingdom of Israel?”

Instead, they grew more puzzled. He came and went. He appeared in the dim light of the dawn on the shore of the lake. He walked into their presence through locked doors at sundown. He accompanied two of their less near associates on a mysterious walk to a small town called Emmaus. But they found His attitude more perplexing than ever, and their own status more undetermined. They even returned to their fishing, for, after all, one must have some sort of job to fall back on when or if the whole matter of His mission ended in an anti-climax to Calvary.

NO RESULTS

Though He came among them like glad flashes of light, warming as the coals over which He cooked the fish for them, they were ill at ease, especially so because the world was continuing in its own complacent way despite the fact of the Resurrection. . The priests have locked the mouths of the soldiers who guarded the tomb and locked those mouths with keys of gold.

Pilate had clearly put the whole unpleasant business out of his mind once and for all. After all, like a Roman, he could argue that prophets came thirteen a dozen in all these oriental countries. Why, then, should a governor worry if the processes of law crushed one of those prophets in its slow-grinding gears?

The Jews went back to the hard and reassuring realities of gold and trade and to the complacency of being the one chosen race who could, in consequence of God’s predestined favour, do no harm, nor lose permanently God’s election, whatever their crimes. The garrison of Jerusalem was strengthened against the possibility of another demonstration like that of~ Palm Sunday. Business was normal again-except to the Apostles, who found the whole thing distressing, foggy, paralysing. The more so as Christ began to confer on them more and more almost embarrassing powers. The powers were sweet and gracious-the power to teach, to baptize, to forgive sins-but powers which the Apostles realised implied considerable activity and burdensome responsibility on their part.

HEAVY TRUSTS

“Go into the whole world and teach every creature.” Fine indeed, except that the creatures clearly did not want to be taught, as shown by their recent attempt to kill truth. They had actually done to death the eternal Word of God made flesh. Would these creatures listen to His mere Apostles if they came teaching the very doctrines which they had nailed, with their Teacher, to a cross?

“Baptizing them.” Well, John the Baptist had baptized, and see what happened to him.

He ended in the terrible baptism of his blood as it flowed down from the silver platter carried to an incestuous woman by the dancing harlot who was her daughter. Baptism was surely no easy path these days.

AND COMMISSIONS

Forgiving sins! Sweet and consoling admonition and command! But did the people want their sins forgiven? Truth to tell, they seemed pretty fond of them. They clung to their sins with a kind of feverish clutch in the fear that someone might take them away. They actually seemed to love their sins. And if the Apostles came to- take away the sins from those who cherished them and hoarded them and counted them over with miserly joy and piled them up in gaudy collections, what would happen? Those who fought sin had a way of going down before it in defeat.

“Feed My lambs; feed My sheep.” There, against the calm lake shore, the gracious command seemed charming, reassuring. In the darkness that followed when He was gone, they could almost hear the howling of the wolves which encircled the sheepfold. He had given them a shepherd’s crook with which to beat back these wolves who came with bloody jaws and crafty stealth. The command was sweet, but how terrifying it seemed once the Good Shepherd had faded in a silvery mist!

LEFT ALONE

Still, during those days, the Apostles continued to feel that some great manifestation would end all this uncertainty. Christ would, by a single, overwhelming miracle, sweep on to the throne of His Father. Israel would rise in one grand hosanna of acceptance. The legions of Rome would cower at His feet. Then they, the Apostles, could take their places in that kingdom, calm and unafraid. He would work out all the details. He would show them a clear way.

Instead, He rose into heaven in the glory of the Ascension, and they stood on the cold hill, chilled to the heart. Oh, truly the Ascension had proved once more that He was the Messiah! He was the Son of God, entering into that glory of which He had often spoken. From His place on high He would help them with His prayers and His intercession. They had only to lift their hands to Him seated at the right hand of His Father.

Ah, that was precisely it. At the right hand of His Father. Christ had gone, and He had left the conquest of the world, the completion of His mission, to them. They were pitifully alone. He had assigned them hard commissions to fulfil. How could they fulfil them? They stood dazed, bewildered, quite paralysed, looking up toward heaven, until an angel shook them from their bewilderment and sent them back reluctantly into Jerusalem.

BEHIND LOCKED DOORS

There, in that upper room which they called the Cenacle, in the very room which He had filled with the sweet memory of the Eucharist and in which Mary lived on, cherishing all these things in her heart, they bolted the door, pulled the blinds tight over the windows, and flung themselves down in a perfect panic of loneliness and uncertainty. He had left them. This time the parting was definite. They had seen Him rise into heaven. He had given them clear commands, and then, as if in mockery, He had turned away to leave the execution of those commands to them.

In moments when the sorrow and befuddlement were less petrifying, they must have regarded themselves with something of bitter irony. They had been told to become world conquerors, and they were skulking behind locked doors. They had been given a commission that embraced the whole world, and they were afraid to leave the protection of a single room. They were to teach all men, and they hardly dared speak above a whisper. They were to face the kings and priests and armies of all the earth, and they quivered as some unexplained shadow swept from a corner and grew larger upon the ceiling.

WHAT CAN THESE DO?

Had any of the priests seen them at that moment, or during the days that followed the return from Mount Olivet, the priests” own slightly uncertain courage would have been completely restored. The Nazarene was gone; where, did not matter. His followers were in a hide-out, afraid to leave it, even for food. The priests, had they known, would have breathed more freely.

Pilate, who sometimes looked back to the day of the trial with a sense of Roman justice miscarried and who could not shake off the memory of the soldier’s wild tale of a resurrection or his own wife’s assurance that this tale was more than likely true, would have put aside all misgivings could he have seen the huddled Apostles locked in that second story. That whole sorry affair, he could have concluded, was a closed book. The world would hear from none of its actors from this point on.

Could the historian of the future have glimpsed these eleven men leaning on the strength of one calm, sad-faced woman, and been told that these were the very men who would remake the world, he would have asked forgiveness for playing the sceptic. For clearly these were no world conquerors or world reformers.

The Apostles were still at sea about what Christ meant by this kingdom of His Father. Even at the moment of the Ascension they misunderstood that. Their tongues still faltered; their Greek was still bad; they were far from ready to step out and preach with the eloquence to which their world was accustomed. In the bent shoulders, the fear-struck eyes, the slightly trembling hands of these men who, from the moment of their Leader’s first capture, had played humiliating parts there was to be seen none of that vaulting courage that sends men out to carry lost causes to triumph. There was none of that fiery glow about them that marks the zealot, the pioneer in any successful cause. If anything, they were notably cold to the task that lay ahead. and quite content to linger on in comparative safety. Letting their mission wait until some vague day which He had indicated.

COMFORTER

Mary was the force that, for the time, held them together. For she did not let them forget that her Son had made a mysterious promise. He would send them “another Paraclete.” Paraclete? That was a reassuring word at least. “Paraclete” meant a “comforter,” and surely, they told themselves, after the disappointment of Gethsemane and the collapse of Calvary, after the frustration of their reborn hopes in the Ascension, they needed a comforter.

Yet, if they had “moments when they looked into the future and faced that mission for which He had instructed them, they must have wondered if a comforter was really what they most needed. Rather, they needed someone with force and vigour and driving power. They needed someone to pour wisdom into their minds, for they knew that their minds were untutored, except for Christ’s three years of battling with their stubborn ignorance; and they felt their minds now dulled by disappointment and fear.

MORE NEEDED

They needed someone to change their cowardice to courage, and to pour into them a fighting spirit, a militant desire to raise the standard of their Leader once more and to charge into the camp of His enemies. But worst of all, there was a chill upon them that explained their chattering teeth, their inert dullness. Their very souls had been chilled by death and re-chilled by this recent, final parting. Warmth and fire were gone; and they were cold to the core of their being.

Yes, they had been promised a new spirit. That was what they needed-a new spirit to make up for their lack of spirit. A new Spirit that would give them wisdom and courage, vision and warmth of heart. What or who could that Spirit be? When and how would it or He come?

DOGGING FEARS

Slowly the days dragged on. A knock at the street door made them tremble. In a footstep halting outside they sensed the stealthy watchfulness of a spy. Judas had betrayed them and he had been one of their innermost twelve. What assurance had they that among the seventy-two there were not other Judases, weak in faith and eager to salvage something from the wreckage of that temporal kingdom which clearly was not to be? If a company of soldiers clattered down the narrow, cobbled streets, the watchers paused in their breathing. Were these guards come to arrest them? A sudden shout from somewhere in the street was not the casual cry of a huckster, but the first warning of a mob drawing near to complete the extermination of all that He had stood for.

Day and night for a week or more they prayed and waited. What lay ahead? Death? Martyrdom? Exile? A mission hardly begun? A commission partly understood and hence at best incompletely executed? . How were they to know? To whom were they to turn?

THE TENTH DAY

It was the tenth day. They still waited. It They prayed on in the tight clutch of uncertainty. A breath of air stirred in the upper room. It grew in volume. It became, with sharply rising crescendo, the rush of a gale. As if blown toward their hideaway by the force of the wind, they could hear the gathering of people outside. The wind had collected these people and deposited them like a drift of leaves before the Cenacle. The Apostles waited, looking at one another perplexed. Only Mary, to whom the coming of that Holy Spirit was an experience not new but renewed, knelt in calm expectancy.

The wind was now a hurricane. Above them the very ceiling seemed to explode in flames which did not quiver in the rush of the tempest. The Apostles bowed their heads. This was clearly what He had meant; the Spirit for which they had waited had at last come.

WIND AND FIRE

For even while those parted tongues of fire came upon them borne on the breast of a gale of wind, the mentally quicker among them must have seen the significance. “The Spirit,” He had called this Comforter that was to come, and spirit was the very word which meant, in its first significance, the wind.

So this promised Spirit, this wind, had really come, not as a spring breeze, gentle and tentative, not as the debilitating zephyr of summer, lulling to sleep under a shady tree, not as the cold and biting blast of winter, cutting and corroding and reducing. to inert stillness. This Spirit had come with a mighty roar, with the tearing power of a gale that excited the city somewhat as the storm around Calvary had done. This. was no gentle, quiet Spirit. It was a Spirit of force and vigour, moving to action, arousing, stimulating, awakening. The Spirit which He had sent had actually shaken to its foundations the houses and the hearts of all Jerusalem.

Thus clearly the Spirit was speaking in force and exhilaration to those outside the Cenacle. Inside, that Blessed Spirit which He had promised was speaking with parted tongues of fire. Tongues? Yes, that was as it should be. Christ had commanded them to speak His truth; their own tongues were quivering and tied with fear and ignorance. The Spirit was giving them new tongues, the flaming tongues which have always been attributed to the great compelling orator. More. The tongues were parted, like two-edged swords that bit and cut, but healed as they fell.

There was no mistaking the flame-like quality of the tongues. Into the souls of the Apostles these flames sank. Suddenly, all that was cold grew warm; the chill of fear and apprehension and the remembrance of death and departure melted in the warmth that filled them. The flame was bright with a searing light that did not blind, warm with a burning love that did not destroy. It came as brightness and light and warmth and strength, the undying fire that the Apostles must, at Christ’s command, cast upon the cold and darksome earth.

WHAT NOW?

The Apostles knelt silently and the Holy Spirit filled the soul of the Woman who was His lovely spouse, the souls of the men who were to be His soldiers and ambassadors before all the world.

Outside the Cenacle the crowd was increasing. Why, they demanded one of the other, had this wind blown them together almost against their will? What did it mean? Mob-like, they grew clamorous. They demanded to know what they might expect now that the wind had died down. They waited, feeling a little foolish that they had permitted a chance gale to fling them in a sort of human heap before this unimportant building. Their cries grew louder. A Roman soldier, whose duty it was to watch all gatherings like this, tightened his belt and strolled about the outskirts of the mob, his hand gripping the hilt of the sword which was both paddle for unruly mobs and death for the violent disturber of the peace.

The noise of the mob filtered into the upper room. A sound like that, just ten minutes ago, would have thrown the Apostles into a panic. They would have clung together dreading the death or at least the certain capture which it threatened. But now?

THE MIRACLE OCCURS

Not now. The miracle had taken place. The new Spirit had caught and held them.

The Comforter Christ had promised had come, but as so much more than just a Comforter. They held tight to Him and would never let Him go, this Spirit of Love, of Wisdom, of Strength, of unconquerable Courage, that would not let them rest.

Added to all this, there was a glowing and revivifying realisation in their hearts that they were no longer alone. They need not face the world on their own strength, or with their own small power. God’s Spirit was m their souls. God’s wisdom had united itself to their minds. God’s own unconquerable strength had buttressed their weakness.

They had God with them, God aiding them, God on their side, God supplying for their imperfections and limitations. No wonder they lifted their heads in a sudden great and sustaining confidence. Since God was with them, what power on earth could possibly stop them?

THEY APPEAR

The crowd waited, but not for long. Of a sudden, the door of that little house opened. With calm certainty and a dignity strange enough in these men who were only yesterday fishermen and publicans, Peter and the others, even the newly-chosen Matthias, stepped out into the open. Into the full light of day, out into the public street they came. The Apostles faced that enormous crowd that milled about in the open spaces, that climbed up to neighbouring windows and leaned from the easy vantage of nearby roofs, faced it, as from that moment on they would face all men, friends or enemies, fellows in the love of Christ or persecutors come with drawn swords.

Astounded, the crowd first stirred with fresh curiosity and then lapsed into expectant silence. They knew these twelve. The story of Peter’s denial had made sweet gossip in the taverns and in the shadows of shops and private houses. The flight of the others had excited storms of laughter. Could anything be funnier than these men who had insinuated to friends that they were chosen to lead the re-established kingdom of Israel, and then, at the first sign of swords and clubs, had taken to their heels with their loose robes flying behind them? They knew these fishermen and were prepared now for some incongruity, perhaps a fresh joke.

A NEW PETER

Peter lifted his hand for silence. Silence fell upon them all as if it was his right to command and their duty to obey. Surely, thought some of those who knew of him best, this was a new Peter; calm, dignified, sure of himself, neither brusque and headstrong in untrained strength nor wavering in a sudden quiver of fear. A new Peter. . . .

A new Peter, indeed. For there in the shadow of the Cenacle, with the serene, assured, confident backing of his fellow Apostles, he began to speak his first great message. The crowd listened. They were amazed. No man dared interrupt. They followed the sweep and flow of his eloquence. They were moved as they had scarcely been moved since a memorable day upon a mount, when the Man in whom they had hoped spoke long, beautifully, compellingly. Eloquence carved Peter’s speech into strong sentences, convincing arguments. A love for these people, whom lately he feared and avoided, made him embrace them in a tender greeting, “Men, brethren.” On and on his exhortation swept, and they followed. Here was eloquence that stormed their inner souls and smashed down with gentle blows the ugly barriers of their prejudices and preconceptions.

WISE AND UNAFRAID

One cannot but wonder if perhaps Peter was not a little astonished at himself. Certainly, if, as the flood of his speech poured on and on, he paused to compare himself with the Peter of yesterday or a month ago, amazement might almost have struck him dumb. He was speaking with compelling force, he who had been trained in the long silences of fishermen busied about their tasks. He was proclaiming before these people the name of the hunted, crucified outcast Messiah, Jesus Christ, though the priests had sworn, by all the oaths they knew, that neither He nor any of His followers should again trouble their secure priestly posts or disturb their financial relationships with Rome. He was speaking of the difficult doctrines of Jesus Christ, fluently, convincingly, with a serene mastery of their deepest meaning and a power to explain Which made the crowd before him stand gaping in amazement, stirring in quick, responsive delight.

Even as he talked, he must have seen spies of the priests among his audience. Those spies were everywhere. The rumours of Christ’s resurrection gave the priests no peace; and, Peter, glancing through the crowd, undoubtedly looked into the spies” furtive, angry eyes, and perhaps watched them as they scampered away to tell their masters in the temple that soon there would be need of more swords and clubs and another journey into Gethsemane. He may even have seen Roman soldiers lounging on the outskirts of the crowd; for those soldiers were everywhere, watching each little sign of incipient rebellion, ready to quench it in hot Jewish blood.

But spies and soldiers meant nothing now to Peter. He could look across the heads of the crowd and foresee his own Calvary.

Perhaps the foreshadowing of a cross fell full upon him as he spoke. What mattered in that? He had a mission. The new Spirit within him had given him eloquence, courage, strength. Come trial and martyrdom, his way lay clear before him. The Spirit of God and he could conquer the world for his beloved Saviour.

RESULTS

Peter finished. Every man had heard Peter in his own tongue though the fisherman spoke only his native patois. The crowd was less amazed at this miracle of tongues, than at the fact that this man had emerged from the shadows to speak bravely and boldly of the Messiah they had crucified, and to compel their minds by the sheer beauty and power of the truth he spoke. Three thousand of that crowd flung themselves down in the dust and mud of the street. Their arms went out in glad surrender. Their voices were lifted in a shout for guidance: “What shall we do?” Peter and the Apostles moved among them, pouring out the waters of baptism, welcoming into the Kingdom of Christ these firstborn converts of the Spirit that had come upon the wavering followers of the crucified God and transformed them.

From that day forward, the onward march of the Apostles was one long glorious triumph. Peter had had all the qualities which his Master found so difficult literally burned out of him. He was no longer the hotheaded, wilful, blundering man of alternate impetuosity and craven fear. He was now quiet, strong, resistless, sure of himself and his mission. It was almost as if the fire of the Holy Spirit had, like some volcanic action, welded the shifting sands of his soul into that firm rock on which the Church was to be built. He spoke in the powerful phrases of the Epistles. St. Mark captured for all future time the glorious preaching of his Gospel. He moved into prisons and out of them without a ruffling of his soul. He stood before the great end spoke with the compelling force of simplicity. He progressed steadily from Jerusalem to Antioch, to Rome itself, and on the ground where now stands St. Peter’s he died in happy imitation of his Master on the cross.

THE REST

John, unschooled, perhaps almost illiterate, the simple fisherman whose father had expected him to take over the leaky ships and broken nets that were their family tradition, began to write with the poetry and philosophy of the Fourth Gospel, sounded the heights of divine love and the depths of human love, and ascended to the very face of God to grasp the revelation of the Apocalypse.

Thomas, the doubter, doubted no more. Matthew, whose writing had hitherto been merely the records of taxes paid and debts dodged, lifted his pen to give us the great First Gospel. Philip preached fearlessly to the ambassador from Ethiopia; and as for the rest of the Apostles the world was all too small. No more skulking in shadows; they carried the name of Christ, the truth of His message, the glory of His cross to every section of the civilised world, though at the end of every journey lay the upraised hand of the executioner and the certainty of the martyr’s grave.

PENTECOST

All this came with Pentecost-Pentecost, which the Church regards as the greatest of its own particular feasts; Pentecost, that blessed day when the Holy Spirit, the Third Person of the Blessed Trinity, to insure forever the carrying forward of the work of God made man, began His special function in the world; Pentecost, the birthday of the Holy Catholic Church.

It is almost impossible to exaggerate the change that came over the Apostles as they crossed that line marked clearly by the coming of the Holy Spirit. They were new men. They now knew clearly things which until that moment they had felt and hoped for and wished. They were courageous now; a moment before they had been desperately afraid.

The whole difference lay in the fact that the Holy Ghost, the Spirit of God, was with them. Ahead lay the glorious battle of themselves and God against the world. Doubt was gone; they had the gift of divine wisdom. Martyrdom might come; they had the gift of divine strength and courage. Temptations might rise with sweet perfume and seductive charm; they had the overwhelming and all-persuasive love of the Spirit of God to keep them safe.

SPIRIT OVER ALL

From the moment of Pentecost, the Acts of the Apostles might almost be called the Gospel of the Holy Spirit. Over the whole glamorous story of the Apostles” first conversions, their first message of the truth to kings and people, their first sufferings for the name of Christ, we can constantly see the hands of Peter and Paul and the other Apostles stretched out to confer the Holy Spirit upon these newly-won followers of Christ. The Holy Spirit pervades every episode, dominates every adventure and achievement. The minds of those who yesterday were hardened in Jewish formalism or cold in pagan cynicism He fills with the almost blinding light of faith and knowledge. Eloquence overwhelms the most brilliant of his opponents, Stephen’s courage is almost God-like. In the presence of unjust judges, the Apostles and their converts are unafraid and convincing in their eloquence. In the darkness of the subterranean dungeons they sing out in joy.

The Samaritans are converted; quickly Peter and John hasten to give them the Holy Spirit. Simon Magus is so struck with the effects that follow the coming of that Spirit of God that he offers his eternally infamous bribe for the power of Confirmation. The Holy Ghost comes down upon the head of the blinded Saul, and he rises to become the Apostle of the Gentiles. Upon the bowed heads of the Jewish converts the Holy Ghost descends, and they see clearly how Christ is the fulfilment of all their prophecies and history. The Romans, surrounded by the subtle influence of pagan power and philosophy, receive the Holy Spirit and live as saints and die as heroes.

BUT WHAT OF US?

We of modern days pause abashed.

All this response of the Apostles and of those first Christians seems terrifyingly remote. What has all this to do with us? Can it be that the Holy Spirit has forsaken us? Or is it the shameful truth that we have forgotten the Holy Spirit? Was the wisdom and the courage, the blazing light and warming love of the Spirit of God reserved for those who lived close to Pentecost? Or have we, by a strangely universal blindness, declined to see and use the God who is as truly present in our souls as He was in the souls of the Apostles when they flung open the door of the Cenacle and went out from the sheltering darkness to convert the world?

No answer really need be given. We knew the sad fact: We have, in the main, forgotten the Holy Spirit.

We accepted, in sheer casualness and stupid thoughtl essness, the coming of God’s Spirit of Confirmation. And we forgot the God of Confirmation almost before the Bishop laid aside his robes.

Confirmation is truly, as Fr. Martindale has put it, the Cinderella of the Sacraments.

In an age when men need, as they never before needed, the strength and wisdom and love and divine guidance, we have forgotten that we carry about with us the very Person who transformed the Apostles and made of the first Christians the saints and martyrs who saved a tottering world, met and brought down a rotten paganism, established the Kingdom of Christ in every part of the known earth.

The Holy Ghost is the forgotten God.

Confirmation is the neglected, disregarded sacrament.

OUR PENTECOST

Undoubtedly, it is most important that right at this moment we go back in memory to our own Pentecost. For there was a Pentecost in our life as truly as there was in the lives of Peter and John and Mary, and later of Stephen and Paul and Agnes and Cecilia. For most of us, that day came early in our lives. The Church, knowing the overwhelming dangers with which we are surrounded, determined that we should not be without the wisdom and the strength and the love of God’s blessed Spirit.

So we knelt at the altar rail. Our Bishop lifted his consecrated hands above us. Had we been thinking at that moment, we could have seen in him a replica of an Apostle lifting his hands above the early Christians to summon from on high and to communicate to them the Spirit of God. He anointed our foreheads with oil, soothing as only oil can be, strengthening as the oil that is rubbed into the limbs of young athletes. That sacred oil was more than a mere symbol of soothing strength. Kings are anointed with oil when they begin their responsible careers. Priests are consecrated with oil when they are dedicated to God. Sacramental oil is the sacred mark by which men are set aside for some high dignity or important responsibility.

So we were marked with a sign which, though a wisp of cotton could quickly wipe it from our brow, would remain forever on our souls. We were made God’s consecrated soldiers and were, in a special way, assimilated to His royal priesthood.

Then from the Bishop’s hand came a slight blow on our cheek. That was just a reminder of the blows the world strikes at those who follow Christ; but more than that, it was a joyous reminder that we were now strong enough to bear blows, whatever blows might come, in the battle for the advancement of Christ’s kingdom.

GOD COMES TO US

It is all very simple, that Confirmation ceremony, as simple as the rushing wind, as the burning of small flames in the darkness of a closed room. Yet who can even begin to estimate what happened to each of us as the Bishop held out his hands, anointed, gently struck?

What happened? The Holy Spirit, the Third Person of the Blessed Trinity, took up His permanent abode in our hearts. The last act by which the Trinity bound us to itself was completed. By Baptism the Divine Father caught us up in the close embrace of adoption. In Holy Communion the Divine Son came to us in the intimate association which rounded out the union in His Mystical Body. And in Confirmation the Holy Spirit came as our permanent guest, our dear friend, our associate in the struggle of life, our consolation in worry and trial, our light in mental darkness, our strength in temptation, our courage in the warfare which lies ahead for each and all.

If we did not have the clear word of God Himself, the certain promise of Christ, and the explicit fulfilment of history, the whole Sacrament of Confirmation would seem too glorious to believe, too much to hope for. We think of the heavens as the proper abode of God the Father. We make our churches as beautiful as possible, and cover our ciboria and tabernacles with gold and rare stones in the hope that they may not be unworthy dwelling places for God the Son. Then comes Confirmation, and with abashed surprise we realise that God the Holy Ghost has chosen as His special dwelling place the soul and body that are ours. I can bend my head reverently before the realisation of my own tremendous responsibility. I am literally, and in very fact, the temple of the Holy Spirit.

BUT WE FORGET

Children that we were, we returned to the trivialities of childhood. We were busy with the imitation of that business which later was to become our most intense preoccupation. Still faltering and ignorant, we made stupid mistakes. Doubts rose up to harass our faith, and often the truths of Christ seem foggy, obscure, and annoying. Temptation grew stronger. We fought it with clenched teeth. We stretched out our hands to a God Whom we pictured as remote and distant, and we tried to draw down strength from the skies. We fell into sin and wondered why we had failed in so shameful, so cowardly a fashion.

Life grew heavy. Work became oppressive. It seemed at times as if the world of evil was too, too strong and the armies of good and decency too, too weak and outnumbered. We weren’t sure either of ourselves or of God. Heaven seemed remote; earth was perilously near and fascinating. We tested the limits of our courage and found them narrow indeed. We read the story of martyrs and prayed silently that so searching a test might never come to us. It was too painfully evident that we should fail.

WHAT IS CONFIRMATION?

Yet all the while, like the rhythm of some half-forgotten verse, rang in the back of our heads an ancient definition: “Confirmation is the sacrament in which we receive the Holy Ghost to make us strong and perfect Christians and soldiers of Jesus Christ.” To make us strong . . . perfect . . . soldiers? Clearly it did not. In our case it must have failed. Why?

Well, beyond all else, we may say that the Holy Spirit is a gentle God. He is the Consoler. Though He came as a spirit of flame and rushing wind, He waits upon those who entertain Him, waits for them to accept arid to use His strength. There were, in the case of our Confirmation, no miraculous manifestations Intense quiet filled the church .when theBishop’s hands were extended and the Holy Spirit came into our hearts. No tempest shook the building; no flaming tongues cut through the roof. We did not rise to speak in divers tongues intelligible to a modern League of Nations.

LIKE THE APOSTLES

But eliminate those miraculous manifestations, and the fact remains that in our Confirmation all the other essential factors of Pentecost were repeated. Only one important condition was present in our case; theHoly Spirit’s effect upon us and upon our lives was made to depend largely Upon our acknowledgment of His presence, our acceptance of His gifts and strength, and our co-operation with this new Spirit that physically, but unobtrusively filled our souls.

After Confirmation, if we dared to recognise the fact, we were really strong. The oil had been the external symbol of our strength. The new Spirit that we had received was the strong and mighty God whose limitless power was placed at our disposal. “God and I together,” said a great philosopher, “are always a majority.” “God and I together,” says the saint, “can do all that God can do alone.” The strength is there, divine strength, mighty power. It awaits my use.

MY NEGLECT

Brutally I face the bitter truth: When have I, even by a quick prayer or a sudden, sharp appeal, so much as turned to draw upon that divine power?

I became, at the moment of Confirmation, a perfect Christian; my relationship to the Holy Trinity was complete. Father, Son, and Holy Ghost had now entered into personal association with me. The mutual love of the Father and Son, which is a Person, was now actually mine in intimate companionship. The God of heaven and earth could do nothing further or more complete to establish me in the fulness of dignity. I had been created, redeemed, and was now sanctified by the living presence of Divine Grace, actually with me, in the person of the Holy Spirit.

Perfect? What more could I ask? The wisdom of God continues to dwell in my mind. The strength of God is in my will. The gifts of the Holy Ghost await my use. They are like blank cheques which I may draw without restriction or limitation. The Spirit of God awaits my decision as to how much and how far I shall use these gifts.

I FORGET GOD

Again must I face the truth: How often. in the course of the years that have rolled by since my Pentecost, have I turned in moments of doubt, of mental perplexity, of uncertainty and indecision, to the Divine Wisdom which united itself with my mind? How often, when temptation rose up with sweet breaths or strong inducement, did I reach, not toward a remote heaven or a perhaps distant tabernacle, but to the strong God present in my heart, and with His strength beat back my peril? Or is it quite possible that, whatever the Holy Ghost did for me, He did it, not because I asked Him to, but despite my systematic neglect and almost callous and contemptuous ignoring of His presence? One cannot but feel that even the divinely patient Holy Spirit must grow weary of forcing His gifts upon the bored and listless and utterly forgetful Christian.

I am a soldier of Christ. With fresh hope and a surprising trust in me, Christ chose me for His army, the lovely army of peace that knows no weapon but the cross and no blows but such as heal and save. He consecrated me to a royal service. I knelt in Confirmation for the anointing and the solemn, though invisible, accolade. Soldiers must dare; they must fight; they must not mind wounds; suffering and privations must come natural to them; they must live bravely and in the end must be ready, when their hour comes, to die for their standard and their cause.

I Fail Because—It was a soldier of Christ that I became at Confirmation; but, with terrifying stupidity, after Confirmation I seemed to act as if the struggle was mine alone, which I must fight single-handed and unaided. I was like a half-witted soldier who wandered off on to the battlefield to carry on his own particular guerilla warfare, sniping and then running, taking a quick blow at some unsuspecting or weak foe and then retreating like mad before the assault of an organised enemy. I fought with almost no reference to the Strong Spirit in my heart.

It would be surprising, indeed, in view of our dumbfounding neglect of the Spirit of God, if we did not often feel and often play the paltroon, the ignoramus, and the coward. With cocky self-assurance we draw upon our own wisdom and fall back upon our own strength. We are annoyed and often frightfully discouraged; we feel put out with ourselves and at odds with God when we fail Him because we have failed ourselves. We have failed ourselves because blindly, stupidly, and with more than a brush of egoism, we have failed to call upon the God within us.

What is frightfully needed is a society for the Proper Understanding of Confirmation.

What is pressingly wanted by the vast majority of the Catholic world is an apostle to cry out: “Turn to the God within your hearts.”

Perhaps the prayer we most need when we are beset by the doubters who hate our faith and the rebels who have declared war upon the Kingdom of Christ is “Come, Holy Ghost.”

PERSONAL MATTER

But without waiting for a society or an apostle or the relearning of a perhaps forgotten prayer, this campaign to reenlist in our own behalf the help and wisdom and strength and love of our forgotten Divine Spirit may start with each individual person. The relationship between the Holy Spirit and the soul is an intensely personal one. It is the dear association of friend with friend. It is the gentle condescension of the strong to the weak, the wise to the ignorant, the pure to the tempted, a condescension without any tinge of humiliation on the part of the one who receives.

Everyone who has received the gift of Confirmation should recall in the secrecy of his own soul that if a transformation like (hat which came to the Apostles on Pentecost failed to follow the Pentecost that was his own, the fault lay in his neglect and disregard of the Holy Spirit through the long course of years.

Doubt, under one of its thousand modern aspects, rises to sneer at Christ’s teaching or to mock at those who are simple enough to hold it. There is not, at that particular moment time to rush to the book which learnedly answers the doubt and flings the sneer back into the twisted face of the doubter. But one can turn immediately to the Spirit of Wisdom present in one’s heart. One can recall that it is under the leadership of precisely that Spirit that the Church has walked its calm, triumphant way and seen the ghosts of a thousand doubters go down with their forgotten doubts to unhonoured graves. One can cry: “Holy Spirit teach me true wisdom.” And with the answer will come true peace.

IN NEED

Temptation is strong and persuasive in these days, when clever men and beautiful women have taken over, with remarkable success, Lucifer’s own task of dragging souls from the arms of Christ and the company of the pure Mary. There is no doubt about our weakness and surely no doubt that the temptation is hot and sweet and compelling. Can we win alone and unaided? Why need that question ever be put to the test? We reach out a hand, not to the remote heaven, but to the strong, pure Cod in our soul. “Holy Spirit, give me strength,” A perfect miracle of strength pours through faltering limbs and trembling hands, and the immediate fight is won.

No man or woman has ever tried to lead a really Christlike life without feeling recurrently the pangs of loneliness. The world seems so smilingly strong. Sinners are so aggressive and self-assertive. God often lets saints seem unpleasant and unattractive. The armies of evil march and countermarch with a brash assertion of numbers and power and captured banners.

Yet “God and I are a majority.” In my heart the Spirit of God dwells, smiling just a little at the fanfares and parades and vaunted strength of the Lilliputians who hurry so because they are just a little bit afraid, and who mass such numbers because they know their own weakness. I walk not alone. I walk in the blessed companionship of the God who transformed fishermen into world conquerors and sent the first Christians, a pitiful handful if there ever was one, gaily and confidently to take the power from the Caesars, the basilicas from the lawyers and princes, the world from its pagan masters.

IN ALL MY PROBLEMS

This matter of restoring the Holy Spirit to His proper place is most of all a matter between myself and the God in my heart. I, the needy, call in every problem on God the near. I am puzzled in an examination; I call on the Holy Spirit for help. There is an important decision that I cannot make; I lay that decision before the Spirit of Wisdom. Shall I undertake this course or that? I let the Spirit who directed the feet of the Apostles guide my course as He guided theirs. This temptation seems overwhelming; I draw on the strength of His Spirit to crush it. I am weary with the monotony of life’s treadmill; the Holy Spirit walks the treadmill at my side. Passion is strong and persuasive; I have the Spirit of Love to teach me the meaning of pure and true love. Doubt sounds most convincing, but not when the brilliant light of God’s flame burns in my mind. I am a failure, but so were the Apostles until the coming of Pentecost. I am a weakling, but not weaker than Peter and Thomas as they cowered in the Cenacle. What good can I possibly do? Frankly, none. But I do not forget that it is not the matter of “I”; it is a glorious matter of “we”: God and I. And who dares to set himself to thwart or undo or hamper the work which has been undertaken by God and me?

There is in the secret soul of each one of us power enough and strength enough to make him a saint or a martyr, an apostle or a doctor. That power awaits our tapping. That Spirit merely asks for our co-operation. The power that changed the Apostles is also our power. The Spirit that struck three thousand converts to their knees in that first Pentecost is our Spirit, too.

OF CATHOLIC ACTION

One question only remains for us to answer: Shall we use this power or shall we let it lie untouched in our souls? But why call Confirmation the Sacrament of Catholic Action? That question can be briefly answered. The Bishops, under the direct command of the Holy Father as the Vicar of Christ, have invited the laity to join them in the great and splendid task of advancing the Kingdom of God throughout the world. Catholic lay men and women are called upon to be apostles. They are to share In the work of the Hierarchy under the direction of their Bishops. They are, according to their abilities and opportunities, to teach the truths of Jesus Christ, to live lives that are flaming lights for all to see and use as guides, to carry into every form of human activity the principles by which Christ constantly remakes the world.

A great summons has gone forth. Let the laity, men and women, whatever their age, their class, their profession, take up the standard of the cross and march with it bravely before the world of friend and foe. They are to be soldiers, not in name only, but in fact and heroism, under the command of their captains, the Bishops.

NO MORE APATHY

A transformation has come over the Catholic world. Apathy has now no place in Catholic lives. The spirit of “Leave the preaching of Christ’s truth to the priests” has given way to the command, “Help us, whoever you are, to proclaim that faith to every creature.” The uninterested or merely approving attitude with which once the laity watched the missionaries go out to convert the pagans (whether the pagans of Africa or the pagans of Park Avenue) has been supplanted by an earnest searching for souls to reach, converts to be made, works of zeal to be taken up and carried through. Priests and people together, at the Pope’s call to Catholic Action, take up the gallant warfare for Christ and His cause and cry out to their Bishops: “Lead us, and we follow.”

We are at the beginning of an era of transition. The faithful have, so to speak, moved from the pews into the forefront of the struggle for Christ against His enemies in every field of human activity: finance, business, the professions, the world of entertainment, literature, the arts, sport. They have left the safe and cloistered seclusion of their own little private Cenacles to lead lives of startlingly dear and emphatic Christianity. Christ must be advanced into factory and executive offices. The principles of Christ must be applied to politics and government. Christ cannot be excluded any longer from even the theatre and the playing field. The Kingdom of Christ is to be as extensive as all forms of human activity. Priests alone cannot make This a reality. So the Holy Father has called upon lay men and women to help them. And the laity. . . .

BEFORE THEY START

Before they plunge into this magnificent conflict for the conquest of The world, the laity must turn inward to their own hearts. For many a long and painful year the attitude of even the good Catholic has been one very much like That of the Apostles as They cowered behind the locked doors of the upper room. “We dare not face the world which so hates Christ. We dare not go out to do battle with the cleverness, wealth, and power that are enlisted on the side of Christ’s enemies.” The strangely familiar cry of Cain became almost a motto among even those who prided themselves on being devoted followers of Christ. “Am I my brother’s keeper? Priests are set aside to bring him the faith and the grace of God. That work is not mine.”

APATHY ENDS

This type of Catholic, while admitting that he was a follower of Christ, believed that one did not parade one’s Catholicity in the stock market, the board room, the law court, the alderman’s office, the ballroom, on the baseball diamond, in the hospital, the classroom, the shop, the factory. These things were over here; Christ was over there. The two could hardly be expected to meet.

Let us confess it to our shame. Apathy toward the world at large was a characteristic of many a good Catholic. Let the world go to pot, so long as he saved his own soul. Let pagans perish in their dull stupidity; his job was to make sure of his own salvation. True, the world was slipping far from the things which made for its happiness and its peace; still, the priests and religious were the professionals whose task it was to meet that situation and deal with it. Lay Catholics held their religion close to their heart and were almost affronted if anyone asked them what that precious thing was which they so carefully secreted in the shadows of their private lives.

Isn’t it sadly and frighteningly true? While Communists and atheists filled the world with their clamour, Catholics murmured their prayers behind closed doors. All the avenues of human enterprise seethed with the activities of those who hated Christ or knew Him simply as a hazy figure Who had lived and died and, for some strangely inexplicable reason, had not altogether been swallowed up in the humiliating death that should have ended forever His effect on the world. But the followers of that same Christ, though loving Him, believing in Him, sure that His way was the way to the world’s happiness and salvation even in this present time, asked chiefly that they be allowed to pass their days in obscurity, unnoticed by those who, if they observed the number of Christ’s followers, might be aroused to another persecution. In the midst of clamorous enemies of Christ we have lived as timid and retiring as the Apostles before Pentecost.

TURN TO THE SPIRIT

Yet the very Holy Spirit who ended forever the Apostles” apathy is in the heart of every Christian. The Spirit of God Who turned hesitant, uncertain, cowardly men into world conquerors was given to every Catholic in his own beautiful Pentecost of Confirmation. All that he need do is to give that divine Spirit within him the slightest intimation that he wishes to preach Christ by his conduct and his word, and the Spirit of Wisdom will, in surprising measure, be at his command. Were the Catholic to show any real desire to carry Christ to the world that does not realise how much it needs Him, that burning Spirit of love and strength would flame up in his soul and send him forth to set the world on fire.

Yes, the Pope has called upon Catholics to bring Christ and His kingdom to the world of mankind. Bishops have looked with eager eyes for volunteers. Priests have felt the reassurance that reinforcements to help them in the fight were near at hand. The laity have experienced the strong impulse to respond, if only.

IF ONLY

Yes, if only they knew alittle more of Christ’s truth; had just a little more courage. If only it were not safer to keep their faith behind sure walls; if only they need not face the laughter of the cynics and the raised eyebrows of even good friends. If only they would not arouse, by any slight show of activity, fresh assaults by the tireless enemies of Christ.

So precisely the Apostles felt before Pentecost. But with the coming of the Holy Spirit all that was ended. They knew that God was with them, for they felt His spirit in their souls. They flung open the doors and faced the mob. Some three thousand of the people, who, after all, had been waiting only for someone to speak to them of Christ and of His persuasive truth and sweet law, flung themselves down before the Apostles begging for admission to citizenship in His kingdom.

The parallel is obvious. Catholic Action now waits for the turning of lay apostles to the wisdom and strength and love and power of the Holy Spirit Who came to them in the almost forgotten Sacrament of Confirmation.

FROM THE BISHOPS

It was, we must remember, the Bishops who administered the Sacrament of Confirmation to those whom they later summoned to work and fight with them. Now the Bishops ask that these Catholics use the Spirit that is in them, that they “stir up the Spirit in their hearts.” Once that Spirit has begun to act or has been permitted to manifest His effects upon the soul, the transformation which went on in the Apostles in the brief moments of Pentecost morning, will, in measure, be seen in the faces, the actions, the words, the deeds, the fine purity and resistless zeal, the Catholic citizenship and unselfish charity, the persuasive eloquence and convincing argument, the honourable careers and honest businesses, the pure marriages and noble homes of Catholic men and women everywhere.

The Pope has called us to Catholic Action.

The Bishops have raised their hands in supplication and command.

The priests have waited eagerly to welcome their allies.

What shall the laity do?

Let the laity decide as they kneel and permit the Holy Spirit, Who came to them long ago in the half-forgotten Sacrament of Confirmation, to work the great transformation of Pentecost.

WE HAVE A NEW BATTLE CRY:”COME, HOLY GHOST.”

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The Sacraments

A DIVINE SENSE OF HUMOUR

INDEX

No one can ever understand the sacraments unless he has what might be called a “divine sense of humour.” A person is said to have a sense of humour if he can “see through” things; one lacks a sense of humour if he cannot “see through” things. No one has ever laughed at a pun who did not see in the one word a twofold meaning. To materialists this world is opaque like a curtain; nothing can be seen through it. A mountain is just a mountain, a sunset just a sunset; but to poets, artists, and saints, the world is transparent like a window pane-it tells of something beyond; for example, a mountain tells of the Power of God, the sunset of His Beauty, and the snowflake of His Purity.

When the Lord Incarnate walked this earth, He brought to it what might be called a “divine sense of humour.” There is only one thing that He took seriously, and that was the soul. He said: “What exchange shall a man give for his soul?” Everything else was a tell-tale of something else. Sheep and goats, wine bottles and patches on clothing, camels and eyes of needles, the lightning flash and the red of the sunset sky, the fisherman’s nets and Caesar’s coin, chalices and rich men’s gates-all of these were turned into parables and made to tell the story of the Kingdom of God.

Our Lord had a divine sense of humour, because He revealed that the universe was sacramental. A sacrament, in a very broad sense of the term, combines two elements: one visible, the other invisible-one that can be seen, or tasted, or touched, or heard; the other unseen to the eyes of the flesh. There is, however, some kind of relation or significance between the two. A spoken word is a kind of sacrament, because there is something material or audible about it; there is also something spiritual about it, namely, its meaning. A horse can hear a funny story just as well as a man. It is conceivable that the horse may hear the words better than the man and at the end of the story the man may laugh, but the horse will never give a horse laugh. The reason is that the horse gets only the material side of the “sacrament,” namely, the sound; but the man gets the invisible or the spiritual side, namely, the meaning.

A handshake is a kind of sacrament, because there is something seen and felt, namely, the clasping of hands; but there is something mysterious and unseen, namely, the communication of friendship. A kiss is a kind of sacrament: the physical side of it is present if one kisses one’s own hand, but the spiritual side of it is missing because there is no sign of affection for another. One of the reasons why a stolen kiss is often resented is that it is not sacramental; it has the carnal side without a spiritual side; that is, the willingness to exchange a mark of esteem or affection.

This book on the sacraments is written because men live in a world that has become entirely too serious. Gold is gold, nuclear warfare is nuclear warfare, dust is dust, money is money. No significance or meaning is seen in the things that make a sound to the ear, or a sight to the eye. In a world without a divine sense of humour, architecture loses decoration and people lose courtesy in their relationships with one another.

When civilization was permeated with a happier philosophy, when things were seen as signs of outward expression of the unseen, architecture was enhanced with a thousand decorations: a pelican feeding her young from her own veins symbolized the sacrifice of Christ; the gargoyle peering from behind a pillar in a cathedral reminded us that temptations are to be found even in the most holy places. Our Lord, on the occasion of His planned entrance into Jerusalem, said that if men withheld their praise of Him, “the very stones would cry out,” which they did as, later, they burst into Gothic Cathedrals.

Now the stones are silent, for modern man no longer believes in another world; they have no story to tell, no meaning to convey, no truth to illustrate. When faith in the spiritual is lost, architecture has nothing to symbolize; similarly when men lose the conviction of the immortal soul, there is a decline in the respect for the human. Man without a soul is a thing; something to be used, not something to be reverenced. He becomes “functional” like a building, or a monkey wrench, or a wheel. The courtesies, the amenities, the urbanities, the gentility that one mortal ought to have for another are neglected once man is no longer seen as bearing within himself the Divine Image. Courtesy is not a condescension of a superior to an inferior, or a patronizing interest in another’s affairs; it is the homage of the heart to the sacredness of human worth. Courtesy is born of holiness, as ornamentation is born of the sense of the holy. Let us see if ornamentation returns to architecture, if courtesy also returns to human manners; for by one and the same stroke, men will have lost their dull seriousness, and will begin to live in a sacramental universe with a divine sense of humour.

Life is a vertical dimension expressed in the soaring spire, or in the leaping fountain, both of which suggest that earth, history, and nature must be left behind to seek union with the Eternal. Opposite to this is an error which substitutes the horizontal for the vertical, the prostrate form of death for the upright stature of life. It is the disease of secularity and of naturalism. It insists on the ultimacy of the seen and the temporal, and the meaninglessness of the spiritual and the invisible.

Two errors can mar our understanding of the natural world: one is to cut off entirely from Almighty God; the other is to confound it substantially with Him. In the first instance, we have the clock without the clock maker, the painting without the artist, the verse without the poet. In the second instance, we have the forger and the forged rolled into one, the melting and the fusing of the murderer and the victim, the boiling of the cook and his dinner. Atheism cuts off creation from its Creator; pantheism identifies nature with God. The true notion is that the material universe is a sign or an indication of what God is. We look at the purity of the snowflake and we see something of the goodness of God. The world is full of poetry: it is sin which turns it into prose.

THE BIBLE IS A SACRAMENTAL

Coming closer to the meaning of sacrament, the Bible is a sacramental in the sense that it has a foreground and a background. In the foreground are the actors, the cult, the temple, the wars, the sufferings, and the glories of men. In the background, however, is the all-pervading presence of God as the Chief Actor, Who subjects nations to judgment according to their obedience or disobedience to the moral law, and Who uses incidents or historical facts as types, or symbols, of something else that will happen. For example, take the brazen serpent in the desert. When the Jewish people were bitten by poisonous serpents, God commanded Moses to make a brazen serpent, and to hang it over the crotch of a tree; all who would look upon that serpent of brass would be healed of the serpent’s sting. This apparently was a rather ridiculous remedy for poison and not everyone looked on it. If one could divine or guess their reason, it would probably be because they concentrated on only one side of the symbol; namely, the lifeless, shiny, brass thing hanging on a tree. But it proved to be a symbol of faith: God used that material thing as a symbol of trust or faith in Him.

The symbolism goes still further. The Old Testament is fulfilled in Christ, Who reveals the full mystery of the brazen serpent. Our Lord told Nicodemus that the brass serpent was lifted up in the desert, so that He would have to be lifted up on a Cross. The meaning now became clear: the brass serpent in the desert looked like the serpent that bit the people; but though it seemed to be the same, it was actually without any poison. Our Blessed Lord now says that He is like that brazen serpent. He, too, would be lifted up on the crotch of a tree, a Cross. He would look as if He Himself was filled with the poison of sin, for His Body would bear the marks, and the stings, and the piercing of sin; and yet as the brass serpent was without poison so He would be without sin. As those who looked upon that brass serpent in the desert in faith were healed of the bite of the serpent, so all who would look upon Him on His Cross bearing the sins and poisons of the world would also be healed of the poison of the serpent, Satan.

The word “sacrament” in Greek means “mystery,” and Christ has been called by St. Paul “the mystery hidden from the ages.” In Him is something divine, something human; something eternal, something temporal; something invisible, something visible. The mystery of Bethlehem was the Son of God taking upon Himself a human nature to unite human nature and divine nature in one Person. He Who, in the language of Scripture, could stop the turning about of the Arcturus, had the prophecy of His birthplace determined, however unconsciously, by a Caesar ordering an imperial census. He Who clothed the fields with grass, Himself was clothed with swaddling bands. He from Whose hands came planets and worlds had tiny arms that were not quite long enough to touch the huge heads of the cattle. He Who trod the everlasting hills was too weak to walk. The Eternal Word was dumb. The Bird that built the nest of the world was hatched therein.

The human nature of Our Blessed Lord had no power to sanctify of and by itself; that is to say, apart from its union with divinity. But because of that union, the humanity of Christ became the efficient cause of our justification and sanctification and will be until the end of the world. Herein is hidden a hint of the sacraments. The humanity of Christ was the bearer of divine life and the means of making men holy; the sacraments were also to become the effective signs of the sanctification purchased by His death. As Our Blessed Lord was the sensible sign of God, so the sacraments were to become the sensible signs of the grace which Our Lord had won for us.

If men were angels or pure spirits, there would have been no need of Christ using human natures or material things for the communication of the divine; but because man is composed of matter and spirit, body and soul, man functions best when he sees the material as the revealer of the spiritual. From the very beginning of man’s life, his mother’s fondling is not merely to leave an impress upon his infant body, but rather to communicate the sublimely beautiful and invisible love of the mother. It is not the material thing which a man values, but rather what is signified by the material thing. As Thomas a Kempis said, “regard not so much the gift of the lover as the love of the giver.” We tear price tags from gifts so that there will be no material relationship existing between the love that gave the thing and the thing itself. If man had no soul or spiritual destiny, then communism would satisfy. If man were only a biological organism, then he would be content to eat and to sleep and to die like a cow.

WHAT THE SACRAMENTS BRING TO MAN

The sacraments bring divine life or grace. Christ’s reason for taking upon Himself a human nature was to pay for sin by death on the cross and to bring us a higher life: “I have come so that they may have life, and have it more abundantly” (John 10:10). But, it may be said, that man already has life. Indeed he does; he has a biological, physiological life. He once had a higher divine life which he lost. Christ came to bring that life back to man. This higher life which is divine, distinct from the human, is called grace, because it is gratis or a free gift of God.

Two tadpoles at the bottom of a pond were one day discussing the prob-lem of existence. One said to the other, “I think I will stick my head out to see if there is anything else in the world.” The other tadpole said, “Don’t be silly, do you think there is anything else in this world besides water?” So those who live the natural life ignore the beauty of the higher life of grace.

Man may live at three different levels: the sensate, the intellectual, and the divine. These may be likened to a threestory house. The sensate level, or the first floor, represents those who deny any other reality except the pleasures that come from the flesh. Their house is rather poorly furnished and is capable of giving intermittent thrills which quickly dry up. The occupant of this first floor is not interested in being told of higher levels of existence; in fact, he may even deny their existence.

On the second floor, there is the intellectual level of existence, that of the scientist, the historian, the journalist, the humanist; the man who has brought to a peak all of the powers of human reason and human will. This is a much more comfortable kind of existence, and far more satisfying to the human spirit. Those on the second floor may think their floor is “a closed universe,” regarding as superstitious those who desire a higher form of life.

But there is actually a third floor which is the floor of grace by which the human heart is illumined by truths which reason cannot know; by which the will is strengthened by a power quite beyond all psychological aids, and the heart is entranced with the love which never fails; which gives a peace that cannot be found on the two lower levels.

There is light outside the window, but it is up to man to open the blinds. The opening of the blinds does not constitute light; it is rather the condition of its entrance. When God made us, He gave us ourselves. When He gives us grace, He gives us Himself. When He created us, He gave Himself to us in a way which makes us one with Him.

One often sees signs painted on roadways, “Jesus Saves.” Now this in-deed is true, but the important question is how does He save? What relation have we in the twentieth century to Christ in the first? Do we establish contact with Him only by reading about Him? If that be all, our relationship is not much closer than that which we can have with Plato. If Christ is only a memory of someone who lived centuries ago, then it is rather difficult to see that His influence will be any different than that of Socrates or Buddha.

The answer to the question of how Christ saves is to be found in the sacraments. The divine life of Christ is communicated through His Church or His Mystical Body in exactly the same way that His divine life was communicated when He walked on earth. As He then used His human nature as the instrument of divinity, and used material things as signs and symbols of the conferring of His pardon, so He now uses other human natures and material things as the instruments for the communication of that same divine life.

In the earthly life of Our Lord, we read that there were two kinds of contact. There was the visible contact with humanity by which His power was communicated to the palsied man and to the blind, both of whom He touched. But there was also the invisible contact, in which Our Blessed Lord showed His power by working miracles at a distance, such as the curing of the servant of the centurion of Nazareth. The second kind of contact is an anticipation of the way that Christ, Who is now in heaven, extends and communicates His power through the sacraments.

SEVEN CONDITIONS OF LIFE

The physical or the natural life requires seven conditions, five of which refer to the person as an individual, and the other two as a member of society. The five conditions of leading an individual life are: (1) In order to live, one must obviously be born; (2) He must nourish himself, for he who does not eat shall not live; (3) He must grow to maturity, throwing away the things of the child, and assume the responsibilities of adult life; (4) In case he is wounded, he must have his wounds bound and healed; and (5) In case he has disease (for a disease is very different from a wound), the traces of the disease must be driven out. As a member of society two further conditions are required: (1) He must live under government and justice in human relationships, and (2) He is called to propagate the human species.

Over and above this human life, there is the divine Christ-life. The seven conditions of leading a personal Christ-life are the following:

(1) We must be spiritually born to it, and that is the Sacrament of Baptism; (2) We must nourish the divine life in the soul, which is the Eucharist; (3) We must grow to spiritual maturity and assume full responsibilities as members of the spiritual army of the Church, which is Confirmation; (4) We must heal the wounds of sin, which is Penance;

(5) We must drive out the traces of the diseases of sin, which is the Anointing of the Sick; (6) We must live under the spiritual government of the Church, which is Holy Orders; (7) We must prolong and propagate the Kingdom of God on earth, which is Matrimony.

Every sacrament has an outward or visible sign; for example, in Baptism it is water, in the Eucharist it is bread and wine. But the sacrament also has a form or formula, or words of spiritual significance given to the matter when it is conferred. Three things then are absolutely required for a sacrament: (1) Its institution by Christ; (2) An outward sign; and (3) The power of conferring the grace or divine life purchased for us by the Passion, Death, and Resurrection of Christ.

THE POWER AND EFFICACY OF THE SACRAMENTS

The sacraments derive their power and efficacy from the Passion, Death, and Resurrection of Our Lord. Why was a blood sacrifice required to bring us the seven-fold sanctification? For several reasons: Life is in the blood, but so also is sin. The sins of the alcoholic, the libertine, and the pervert are often written on their faces; their excesses are recorded in every cell of their body and every drop of their blood. If, therefore, sin is to be done away with, there should be some shedding of blood, as if to symbolize the emptying of sin. It is often the death of soldiers that brings freedom to a nation; it is the giving of one’s blood to another which heals him of anemia. The blood bank from which others may draw healing is hint of another blood bank from which souls may be healed of the ravages of sin.

Furthermore, blood is the best symbol of sacrifice, because blood is the life of man: when man gives up his blood, he gives up his life.

Hence, St. Peter writes:

“What was the ransom that freed you from the vain observances of ancestral tradition? You know well enough that it was not paid in earthly currency, silver or gold; it was paid in the precious Blood of Christ; no lamb was ever so pure, so spotless a victim.” (I Peter 1:18, 19)

The blood of Christ had infinite value because He is a divine person. The life of a lamb is more precious than that of a fly, and the life of a man is more precious than the life of a beast, and the life of the God-Man is more precious than the life of any human being.

Our mind, our will and our conscience become completely sanctified through the application of the merits of Christ:

“Shall not the Blood of Christ, Who offered Himself, through the Holy Spirit, as a victim unblemished in God’s sight, purify our consciences, and set them free from lifeless observances, to serve the Living God?” (Heb. 9:14)

THE APPLICATION TO THE SACRAMENTS

Calvary is like a reservoir of divine life or grace. From it, there flow seven different kinds of sanctification for man in different stages of his spiritual existence. Each of these seven channels is a sacrament by which the power of the Risen Christ is bestowed on souls by a spiritual and effective contact. This divine life pours into the soul when we receive the sacraments, unless we put an obstacle in the way, just as water will not flow out of a faucet if we put our hand in front of the faucet. But a faucet in a house has no power to quench thirst unless there is a reservoir and a pipeline. So the sacraments do not confer grace as magical signs; they communicate it only because they are in contact with the Risen Christ.

What makes the difference between the sacraments is how each is applied to us. The Christ-life affects us in a different way when we are born than when we are about to die; in a different way when we reach the age of responsibility than when we enter into marriage; in a different way when we wound ourselves than when we exercise government. The sunlight is the same whether it shines on mud to harden it or on wax to soften it. It shines on some flowers and makes them grow; it shines on a wound and heals it. So too, the blood of Christ applied at different moments of life results in a different kind of power.

A principle of philosophy states: “Whatever is received is received according to the mode of the one receiving it.” If you pour water into a blue glass, it looks blue; if you pour it into a red glass, it looks red. If you pour water into the parched earth, it is quite different than water poured onto a carpet or into oil. So too, when the blood of Christ and its merits flood in upon the soul, it depends upon the one receiving it. Does the soul come for strengthening? For nourishment? For healing? For a long journey? For induction into the spiritual army? The effects will differ as to whether a person is spiritually dead or spiritually living If a member of the Church is spiritually dead, then it will revive him as does the Sacrament of Penance, or the Sacrament of Baptism.

Nihil Obstat: William F. Hogan, S.T.D., Censor Librorum Imprimatur: James A. Hughes, J.C.D., LL.D., P.A., Vicar General, Archdiocese of Newark

October 22, 1962

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FOREWORD

The saints authenticate our Christian living. They show us what we might become. So we admire and honour them, the true heroes of life, and praise God’s gifts in them.

The Saints are our leaders in a vast “Communion of Saints”-of those already in heaven, of those expiating for faults in purgatory, and of we who enjoy the state of God’s grace on earth.

We reserve the name “Saint,” in its technical meaning, to those whom we believe to be already in heaven because of the Church’s declaration, and we look to these for intercession with God on our behalf. We are taught that we may ask them to help us in gaining spiritual and temporal favours.

Saint Anthony of Padua has sometimes been called “The World’s Favourite Saint” because of the almost excessive liberality of God’s favours granted through his intercession.

The Sacred Heart

REV. ROBERT NASH, S.J

INDEX

“Who, then, shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation?

Or distress?

Or famine?

Or nakedness?

Or danger?

Or persecution?

Or the sword?

. . I am sure

That neither death nor life,

Nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers,

Nor things present, nor things to come,

Nor might, nor height, nor depth,

Nor any other creature,

Shall be able to separate us

From the love of God

Which is in Christ Jesus

Our Lord.” (Romans viii, 35 sqq.)

A man walked down the street. He spoke and people found themselves listening, almost in spite of themselves. No one ever spoke like this and they wanted to hear more. The man moved out of the town and they followed Him. Whole days passed, but nothing seemed to matter so long as they had Him. They forgot about sleep. They forgot about food. It was the man who remembered. He told them sit down and He would feed them. Thousands sat down, but there were no rations except five loaves and two fishes. These He took and blessed and they multiplied so that there was enough to go round, and plenty over.

The man was Jesus Christ. He might just as easily have created the food but His way is to make use of whatever we can supply ourselves.

Wine ran short at a marriage feast. He told the servants to fill six jars with water. It was all they had, and this He took and changed into wine.

WHAT HAVE YOU?

With a piece of moistened clay He anointed the eye of a man born blind. He told him to go to the pool and wash it off. The man did, and at that instant he received the gift of sight. Ten lepers cried out to Him to have mercy on them. He ordered them to go and show themselves to the priests, and on the way the hideous scars fell from their bodies.

These instances, chosen at random, show that Our Lord wants to enter into partnership with us. He looks for our co-operation however insignificant it may be. “Do your own share,” He seems to say, “and certainly I shall not fail to do Mine. Bring as much as you can and after that depend on Me to supply the rest.”

APOSTLE OF THE SACRED HEART

This was His principle, too, in dealing with St. Margaret Mary. Margaret was a shy, timid little girl from the country, and it was she whom He chose to be the apostle of His Sacred Heart. Margaret’s father had died when she was a child. Her poor mother and herself were forced by circumstances to go over and live with three dreadful female relatives, reminiscent of the three witches in Macbeth.

She had none of the innocent joys of childhood. She soon developed an inferiority complex. She dare not leave the house except with the permission of each of the three dames, who ruled over it with a rod of iron. The unfortunate child would hide herself for whole days in a corner of a stable or garden where some sympathetic neighbours would bring her scraps of food. “When at last I came back,” she tells us, “it was with such terror that I felt like a criminal going to receive the death sentence.” The evil-minded women neeringly accused her of misconduct during these intervals with some lads of the village. The charge drew from her the most vehement protests. So great was her horror of anything which might tarnish her purity that she declared she would prefer to be torn into a thousand pieces than even to think of it.

This much must suffice to indicate the background of the girl of twenty-three who rang the bell one evening, at the Visitation Convent, in Paray, and asked to be accepted as a postulant. The door swung open and she was admitted. She was in an ecstasy of joy at the prospect. A violent temptation seized her, on the very threshold of the convent, to fly back to the mother she loved and have done with this crazy notion of a nunnery. But she went on. “I was, in fact, so transported with joy that I exclaimed: ‘It is here that my God would have me to be.”

TROUBLES BEGIN

But Paray would prove to be no paradise. Ancient biographers, fearful of shocking their pious readers, were careful to suppress in their accounts any details which seemed to smack of what was dis-edifying. Modern writers have reacted against the tendency. They favour a healthy frankness and realism. “It must needs be that scandals come,” and the story of scandals can often yield undoubted advantages in the telling.

There were scandals at Paray. They were not of as deep a dye as might he found in other monasteries round about Margaret’s time. (She was born in 1647.) But the little convent had its problems just the same. The fact was that some of the sisters did not have a vocation.

These grand ladies looked down the nose at the child of a mere notary from some backwater hamlet in Burgundy. They soon made poor Margaret keenly conscious of the inferiority of her position. She began to realise that she had been delivered from the claws of the three witches only to be, lashed by the tongues of scorn and ill-concealed contempt of her sisters in religion.

This, then, was the nun, who, in the inscrutable designs of Providence, was chosen to be the apostle of the Sacred Heart, entrusted by Our Lord Himself with the arduous mission to propagate this devotion. “The foremost place,” writes Pope Pius XII, “amongst those who promoted this excellent devotion, must assuredly go to St. Margaret Mary Alacoque. Inspired by her own burning zeal, and with the assistance of her spiritual director, Blessed Claude de la Colombiere, she richly embellished this devotion, and caused it to take clear and definite shape, much to the admiration of the faithful.”

But, to tell the truth, the prospect scared Margaret. Our Lord appeared to her repeatedly, explaining different things He wanted her to do. Thus on one occasion she was ordered to tell Mother Superior that God was not pleased with the spirit of the community. The poor girl began to tremble and implored to be excused. But the Lord was inexorable and Margaret had to go. She prayed that day, she tells us, on the way to her Superior’s room, that she might drop dead

MORE TROUBLES

Worse was to come. She was to undertake a big mission, none other than to spread all through the Church the devotion to His Sacred Heart. Again she expostulated and pleaded, and again her pleading was without effect. She pointed out that she was a nobody. With charming naivete she reminded Him that there were several other nuns in the convent more capable by far than herself. All she wanted to do was to hide herself and give herself to prayer and sacrifice. Why would He not permit this, and hand over His commission to someone else?

“It is precisely because you are an abyss of ignorance and of nothingness that I have chosen you. It will thus be clear to all men that the mission is Mine, not yours.” As He took the water at Cana, as He took the five loaves and two fishes, so would He take Margaret, just as she was, devoid of any outstanding merit or talent, and, using whatever amount of co-operation was possible for her to give, He would Himself provide for what was lacking.

It is with reluctance that we leave the rest of the fascinating story of Margaret. In her distress, Our Lord promised to send into her life “a priest after His own Heart.” This proved to be the young Jesuit, Father de la Colombiere. He became her staunch friend and support, having first thoroughly tested her spirit. He was convinced she was led by the spirit of God, and told Mother Prioress so.

His verdict caused another flutter in the dovecot! So now she has succeeded in deceiving even the wily Jesuit! Margaret would have an interview with him lasting a whole hour or longer. The great ladies were graciously bowed out after being accorded a minute or a minute and a half! What the results were, we can leave you to surmise.

POPE PIUS XII

This happened three hundred years ago. With what zest the message of the Sacred Heart has since been relayed can be judged from the following facts. They are found listed by Pope Pius XII in his Encyclical on this devotion. “Our predecessor, Clement XIII,” he writes, “granted to the Bishops of Poland and to the Archconfraternity of the Sacred Heart at Rome, permission to celebrate the feast liturgically . . . (so as) to renew through this symbol the memory of that divine love by which Our Saviour was driven to offer Himself as a victim to atone for the crimes Of mankind.”

This was in 1765, eight years after Margaret’s death. Ninety years later “Our predecessor Pius IX, acceding to the prayers of the bishops of France and of practically the entire Catholic world, commanded the feast of the Most Sacred Heart of Jesus to be extended to the whole Church and celebrated in every part of it . . . From that time devotion to the Sacred Heart, like a river in full flood, sweeping away all obstacles, spread over the entire world.”

On this occasion Pius IX invited all the faithful to consecrate themselves publicly to the Sacred Heart. But Leo XIII went further. In an Encyclical on this devotion he compared the Heart of Christ to the Cross which Constantine had seen ablaze in the sky, assuring him of victory. “In the same way do we place all our confidence in this Sacred Heart, asking from It and hoping and awaiting for, our eternal salvation.” The great Pontiff then solemnly proclaimed that Christ is King of all men, and to His Sacred Heart he consecrated the whole world. This consecration he regarded as the “outstanding act of his pontificate.”

Twenty-five years later Pius XI instituted the Feast of Christ the King and ordered the Act of Consecration to the Sacred Heart to be renewed yearly throughout the world. Pius XII quotes him as saying: “Does not this devotion- which causes an intimate knowledge of Christ Our Lord to grow in us, engenders in our hearts an intense love of Him, and leads us to model ourselves on Him completely-comprise the sum-total of our religion and therefore the rule of perfection itself?”

“HAURIETIS AQUAS”

And now Pius XII enlarges upon his own consistent efforts to implement the work of the Popes who went before him. “At the beginning of Our Pontificate we noted with pleasure that the devotion to the Most Sacred Heart of Jesus had made great advances and was continuing to make triumphant progress . . . Throughout the years of Our Pontificate-years full of trials and cares, but full, too, of sublime consolations-these blessings have not grown less; rather have they become more abundant, richer and more splendid than before.

“Various projects conducive to fostering this devotion and most suited to the needs of our times have happily arisen; associations for cultural development and for the promotion of religion and charitable works; published works treating of this devotion from the historical, mystical or ascetical viewpoints; pious works of atonement, and, in particular, the extremely fervent expressions of piety which are the fruit of the Sodality of the Apostleship of Prayer, under whose aegis, principally, families, colleges, institutions, and at times even whole nations, have been consecrated to the Most Sacred Heart of Jesus.”

The august writer, viewing this happy development, considered that the time was ripe for a new Encyclical which, while warmly encouraging the devotion, would at the same time clarify it and ward off possible misconceptions concerning it. With this in mind he wrote “Haurietis Aquas.” The words are from Isaias: “You shall draw waters with joy out of the fountains of the Saviour.” These fountains well up in the Sacred Heart, and the saintly Pope, who had drunk of them so deeply, is a sure guide to lead us to assuage our thirst at the same inexhaustible source.

The Heart of Christ, he points out, like every other member of Christ’s Body, “is entitled to that same cult of adoration with which the Church venerates the Person of the Incarnate Son of God. But, moreover, in every language Heart and love are synonymous. The heart is of its very nature the symbol and sign of love. That is why it is particularly well fitted to express the love of Jesus for us, and the love which moves us to love Him in return. Indeed, as He shows at great length, the kernel of the devotion consists precisely in an interchange of love. This was graphically illustrated in the revelations made to St. Margaret Mary.

A DIGRESSION

The remainder of this pamphlet will be, for the most part, an effort to comment on the teaching of the late Holy Father, as found in this letter. But first may we be permitted a digression? It is by way of illustrating in a specific instance, the zeal of a fervent Catholic in promoting devotion to the Sacred Heart.

Father Aloysius Kemper is a wonderful priest in Chicago, who, well on in his eighties, is still tireless in his many works of apostolate. His father had always had a great devotion to the Sacred Heart. He never wearied of recommending people to say: “Sacred Heart of Jesus, I place all my trust in Thee.” He had done wonders to spread everywhere copies of the Twelve Promises made by Our Lord to St. Margaret Mary, on behalf of those devoted to His Sacred Heart. These he had translated into all sorts of languages-Arabic, Chinese, the different Indian dialects, etc. Father Kemper assured me that he circulated these literally by the million. Often on the eve of a First Friday, he would see his father going to the post office laden with parcels. These contained hundreds of thousands of copies of the Promises. They were being dispatched to the ends of the earth.

Pope Leo XIII heard of this man’s zeal and wrote him a personal letter commending him for his fine work: Moreover, the Holy Father incorporated into his Encyclical on the Sacred Heart, some of Mr. Kemper’s ideas on the devotion.

One Holy Thursday, this saintly man spent nearly the whole day before the Altar of Repose. He returned at evening, had his supper, and retired. He was found dead in bed on Good Friday, beside him the book he had been reading. It was open at the chapter entitled “Easter in Heaven.”

A NEW DEVOTION

Pope Pius XII is concerned, in the first place, “to admonish all these Our children, who, in their prejudice, sometimes go so far as to consider this devotion unsuitable, not to say harmful, in face of the spiritual needs felt by the Church today . . . Some fail to distinguish between the devotion itself, in its essentials, and various special forms of piety which the Church commends and promotes but does not impose as of obligation . . . Others who devote the greater part of their time, energies, and resources to teaching and disseminating Catholic truth and inculcating Catholic social doctrine . . . assert that this devotion is burdensome and of little or no value . . . Yet others look upon it as a sentimental form of piety . . . more fit for women than for men of culture, of whom they deem it in some way unworthy . . .”

All these critics the Pope takes back to Holy Scripture and the teaching of the Fathers of the Church, showing forcibly how futile and superficial these objections are thus seen to be.

The Sacred Heart is worthy of love and adoration for two reasons. First, it is the Heart of a divine Person, the Incarnate Son of God; secondly, because it is the symbol most suited to express the love of God for us and our consequent obligation and privilege to love Him in return. The revelations made to St. Margaret Mary were new only in this-that they laid emphasis on what was always a devotion in the Church, namely on the love we owe to God in return for His love of us. This emphasis was necessary, Our Lord explained to His chosen servant, because “the charity of men had grown cold; because of the frightful sin and sacrilege and ingratitude of the vast majority of mankind.”

Our Lord, therefore, came to her and gave her the mission to stir up His love once more in men’s hearts and He showed her His own Heart as a symbol of the deep love He had for them. Hence devotion to the Sacred Heart has always been in the Church. It is the motive goading people to scale the heights of holiness. “It is the charity of Christ that drives us forward.” It is senseless, therefore, bordering on blasphemy, to assert that it is a devotion devoid of solid foundation in Catholic dogma; to affirm that its appeal is only for the sentimental.

True, specific forms which the devotion takes may not, and need not, necessarily attract everyone. True also, that the revelations made to St. Margaret Mary did much to increase and popularize the devotion. But at the same time- and this point needs to be stressed-these revelations do not constitute the devotion. They gave it impetus, but its foundations are to be sought for in the New and even in the Old Testament. This is true because devotion to the Sacred Heart is simply “the will to give oneself readily to the service of God.” This is St. Thomas’ definition of devotion, and, asks the Pope, “what more obligatory or necessary, what nobler or more attractive service of God, that that which is given to His love?”

“Let everyone fully understand, therefore, that in the worship of the Most Sacred Heart of Jesus external acts do not hold the primary place; nor is the chief reason for that worship to be sought in the favours which Christ has promised in private revelations.”

WAYS AND MEANS

There are Catholics who practise with commendable zeal the Holy Hour, the “Nine Fridays,” the Apostleship of Prayer. There are Catholics who are attracted by promises made by Our Lord to those who are devoted to His Sacred Heart. St. Margaret Mary affirms, for instance, that through this devotion “tepid souls will become fervent.” So a parent is drawn to the devotion in the hope that through it an erring son may be converted. The saint tells us that the Sacred Heart promises to restore peace in families which are disunited, if they practise this devotion. A sorely-tried husband or wife hears of this and resolves to follow the saint’s recommendations, trusting that happiness may be given back to the members of the family.

“I will give to priests the power to touch the most hardened sinners.” This, the saint says, was told her by Our Lord, speaking of priests devoted to His Sacred Heart. A good priest, worried about sinners in his parish, may well be alerted by this assurance and undertake to spread and practise the devotion.

Then there is the “great promise”-that those who make the Nine First Fridays, as the saint explains Our Lord told her-”will not die without their sacraments, nor in My displeasure.” Anyone meditating deeply and prayerfully on this promise might, very understandably, be led to receive Holy Communion on the days mentioned.

THE SAME ROOT

All such specific forms of devotion stem from the same root. They are expressions of our love of Our Lord, of our confidence, of our desire to prove that our protestations of love are genuine. As such they are excellent. As such the Church approves of them, commends them to the faithful, rejoices when she learns that they are spreading. But the Holy Father’s point is that these do not constitute devotion to the Sacred Heart, though undoubtedly they may help to foster it, though in many cases they certainly do.

But an excellent Catholic may be deeply devoted to the Sacred Heart and never engage to do any of these things. The case might be exceptional but it can easily be envisaged. The reason is that devotion to the Sacred Heart is devotion to His love for us; a fervent purpose and desire to love Him in return; an ardent zeal to draw others to His love. Such devotion has always been in the Church, as the Holy Father goes on to show. Hence the charge made against some Catholics is to be admitted as just, which states that their “devotion” is based on a mere selfish interest, that they are actuated merely by a desire to gain personal advantages, that they completely misunderstood the essentials of the devotion and concentrate on what is only accidental and secondary.

“The purpose of the ‘promises,’” concludes Pope Pius XII, “was that men might more zealously discharge the duties of the Catholic religion, that is to say, duties of love and reparation, and thus serve their own spiritual interests in the best possible manner.”

“We have not here an ordinary exercise of piety which a person may freely neglect for other forms of devotion, or esteem of little importance. Rather is there question of a practice intimately related to the achieving of Christian perfection.”

“BEHOLD THIS HEART”

Our Lord showed His Sacred Heart, to St. Margaret Mary. From every side of It flames of fire were issuing forth, which He explained symbolized the fire of love for us sinners which consumed Him. “Behold this Heart on fire with love. . . .”

The lucid teaching of the Holy Father now echoes the Master’s voice. His Vicar too exhorts us to behold this Heart. He takes us through the Old and’ New Testament, insisting on the expressions and proofs of God’s love of us which crowd into every page. Holy Scripture, it is quite true, does not make explicit mention of the Heart. But this omission “cannot even faintly obscure the fact that the divine charity towards us, which is the principal reason for this devotion, is proclaimed and instilled, by means of the most moving images, both in the Old and New Testament.”

As one instance of this love, symbolized by the Sacred Heart, the Pope refers us to the prophet Osee “who has given us the clearest and most powerful expression of the abiding love of God for His people . . . an anxious love, a holy love, a love that is consistent with the demands of justice, such as is felt by a compassionate loving father or by a husband whose honour has been slighted. Osee depicts our God as eager to heal the breach, to assure His ungrateful people that His love is not weakened or extinguished by their sin. Justice calls for punishment. .But, once the demands of justice have been met, let God’s erring children draw nearer to Him than ever.

Then there is the wonderful story of divine love, traceable throughout the long journey, lasting forty years, of the Israelites across the desert to the Promised Land. Time and time again they fell into idolatry; time and time again they forgot their promises to love God and serve Him. Never did He reject them. Each time the promises were renewed the loving mercy of God prevailed. He forgave and restored them to His friendship.

All this was a foreshadowing of the supreme love of the Redeemer Who was to come. The Christian Covenant is “sustained by a far more bountiful outpouring of grace and truth” than was the Ancient Covenant. So we are invited to ponder prayerfully in our hearts the merciful love of the Blessed Trinity and of the divine Redeemer. The human race was absolutely powerless to atone for its sins. It must remain to this day and to the end of time and throughout eternity, estranged from God, banished from heaven, were it not for “the exceeding great love” which our Mediator showed us. He loved us even when we were dead in sin, quickening us again to a new life in union with Himself.

A REAL MAN

Since He was a real Man, like us in everything, sin alone excepted, it follows beyond all question that He had a Heart like ours, which beat with love and was affected by other human emotions. These, indeed, were in complete harmony with His human will. “The only begotten Son of God took on a human nature capable of suffering and dying, chiefly for this reason-that He desired to offer a bloody sacrifice on the Cross, so as to accomplish the work of human salvation.” He would thus become, as St. Paul would describe Him, “like unto His brethren in all things, a merciful and faithful high priest before God, a propitiation for the sins of the people.”

“Greater love than this no man hath, that a man lay down his life for his friends.” And the Pope’s argument is that devotion to the Sacred Heart is the will to give oneself to God, making a return of love for love.

This love existed before God laid the foundations of the world. Accommodating Himself to our modes of expression, God assures us by the prophet: “I have loved thee with an everlasting love.” He tells us, secondly, that His attitude towards us at this moment is one of love. “I have thee graven in My hands.” People who are forgetful will take care not to allow some object they value leave their hand. They cannot forget it as long as they hold it. Now “the souls of the just are in the hand of God.” Finally, that love which He has will never wain. “Can a mother forget her infant, so as not to remember the child of her womb? And, even if she should forget, I will not forget thee.”

STOP AND LISTEN

Hence we may say, concerning this love which God bears each of us that “it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be.” Any words we can employ to express the stunning reality of this statement must always prove pitiably inadequate. Realisation will come only through the action of grace, generously granted to the soul that prays, and, like Our, Lady, ponders the whole marvellous story in the heart. The man who begins to come to grips with the truth will rise from his knees, transformed into a new person, like Saul on the Damascus Road.

“My divine Heart,” He told St. Margaret Mary, “is so inflamed with love for men, and for you in particular, that, not being able any longer to restrain within Itself the flames of Its ardent charity, It must spread them everywhere through your means, and manifest Itself to men that they may be enriched with Its precious treasures.” “He was brilliant with glory,” she writes in another place. “His five wounds shone like five suns. Flames darted forth from all parts of His sacred Humanity, but especially from His adorable breast. This resembled a furnace, and on opening, it displayed to me His loving and amiable Heart, the living source of those flames.”

Such passages might be multiplied. The saint repeats herself. Her sentences are at times long and involved. She is diffident and fearful of being deceived. She longs for the coming of the priest promised to her, Our Lord’s “faithful friend and perfect servant, who would teach her to know her Saviour and abandon herself completely to Him.”

When Our Blessed Lady heard the angel’s message she too was agitated-turbata est. The prospect of the place assigned to her in the divine scheme left her breathless with amazement and fear. A similar reaction is easy to discern in St. Margaret Mary. To her timidity and joy combined, must be attributed the fact that at times she is almost incoherent in her account. She is speaking under strong emotion.

LOVE FOR THE SINNER

The emphasis on God’s love for us sinners is thus the first portion of the message of the Sacred Heart. The Holy Father has shown us how deep are the foundations upon which this astonishing truth rests. He moves on now to underline another truth conveyed by Christ to His chosen servant. This was a complaint, wrung from Him by the sins and ingratitude of the vast bulk of mankind. “They have nothing but coldness and rebuffs,” He told her, “for all My eagerness to do them good . . . Behold this Heart which has so loved men, which has spared Itself in nothing, even to being exhausted and consumed, in order to testify to them Its love. And the greater number make Me no other return than ingratitude, by their coldness and forgetfulness of Me in this Sacrament of love. What is still more painful to Me is the fact that it is souls consecrated to Me who use Me thus.”

“Many of the Church’s children,” writes Pius XII, “by their numerous sins and weaknesses, disfigure the beautiful countenance of their Mother, which is reflected in them . . . If it causes Us keen suffering to behold the weak faith of the good, in whose souls, deceived by the false desire for the things of this world, the flame of divine love burns low and is gradually being extinguished, We suffer much more intensely from the evil machinations of the wicked. Today more than ever, impious men, as if impelled by the infernal enemy, are consumed with implacable and undisguised hatred of God and of His Church. . . .”

So it is clear that the complaint wrung from the Heart of Christ three hundred years ago is still echoing throughout our world in the twentieth century.

REPARATION

Christ stood on the balcony of Pilate’s palace. He was crowned with thorns. His body was a mass of wounds. In His hand they had placed a reed in mockery of His royalty.

“Behold the Man,” exclaimed Pilate, and the fearful answer was hurled back: “Away with Him. Crucify Him. His blood be upon us and upon our children.” And today the same Christ stands before the modern world. “Behold this Heart,” He cries, “on fire with love of men.” And again the terrible rejection: “We will not have this Man to rule over us.”

Once again realisation of all that this implies will begin to dawn upon our minds only through prayer and serious meditation. When we pray, when through the grace granted us, we are able to see and grasp the deep significance of what we have just read, we can never be the same again. “Christ needs YOU,” cries out the Pope. “The Church needs YOU.” And for what purpose? To make reparation to the Sacred Heart.

The Holy Father dilates on “the growing dominion over the hearts of men of a false materialist philosophy and way of life, while on all sides the free, unrestrained sway of the passions is proposed as an ideal. Little wonder if, in such circumstances many hearts lose the fervour of charity, which is the supreme law of the Christian religion. . . .”

This state of things is a challenge more than a threat. From every analogy in history a period like ours should be prolific in saints. The very fact that so many are consumed with “undisguised hatred of God” proves to be a mighty incentive to the good to love Him more than ever. And their love seeks to express itself in the deeds of sacrifice.

St. Paul described the essential notion of reparation when he wrote: “I fill up in my flesh the things that are wanting to the sufferings of Christ, for His Body which is the Church.” On every side opportunities occur. There is the longdrawn-out sickness, or the acute financial worry, or the constant anxiety about the wayward son or daughter. All such more grievous trials can be made into material for reparation. By their means we fill up what is wanting to the Passion if we train ourselves to unite our sufferings with His on Calvary.

There are the petty annoyances too-a wrong number dialled on the phone and much consequent confusion; an importunate visitor who besieges us at a moment when we are particularly busy; the baby waking up at night; the heavy rain which comes to spoil our day’s outing; the disappointing news we get in a letter this morning. “In all things seek God. This is sound advice of St. Ignatius. The art of super-naturalizing everything makes everything material for a life devoted to reparation.

Among the exquisite pieces of literature dealing with the devotion to the Sacred Heart pride of place must be given to the Mass and Office composed by order of Pope Pius XI. These, too, like Pius XII’s Encyclical, open up “the fountains of the Saviour” to the thirsting soul, assuaging its longing for the living waters of true devotion. As a mere sample of the riches to be discovered in this mine we propose the Preface in that Mass.

PREFACE

This Preface refers, in the first place, to the Sacred Heart as “the treasure-house of the divine bounty.” When men have anything valuable, they take very good care to keep it under lock and key. The last thing a sensible man of business will do, before leaving his store at evening time, is to make sure he has put that day’s takings into the safe. He will slam the door and tug at it to test it -and make certain that no thief can possibly force it open.

The Heart of Christ is a treasure-house in which are contained the riches accumulated by Him at such a terrible cost-all the sufferings of His Passion. But at this treasure-house, the door stands wide open always, day and night. The Preface speaks of the Son of God Who was pierced by the lance as He hung on the Cross. The soldier’s spear opened His Heart that day and never since has It been closed.

Hence we have the “apertum Cor,” “the open Heart.” Why? What is the reason for this seeming disregard for the treasure? Is the Owner not afraid of thieves breaking through and stealing? No. A man with the wealth of earth is fearful because, no matter how much he possesses, his supply is necessarily limited. But the wealth of the Sacred Heart is inexhaustible. No need for lock or key here. He ardently desires, as He explained to St. Margaret Mary, that the entire world would come and draw off from the treasures He is offering. They are endless. No matter how much will be taken from what is infinite, infinity must ever remain. The only limitation is the measure of each soul’s capacity to take and receive.

The glorious words of the Preface now proceed to draw up a catalogue of what gifts are waiting in this treasure-house for the soul willing to search for them. There are ‘“torrents of mercy and of grace.” One thinks of the thousands and thousands of tons of water falling from Niagara. One remembers the mighty dams in Holland built to keep back the waters of the ocean which maintain all the time their terrific pressure against the resistance of these barriers. These illustrate, but only feebly, the “torrents” in the Heart of Christ, as they keep on ever pressing, ever eager, to break down the obstacles raised by our own miserable selfishness.

In this treasure-house, with the door wide open, the soul finds “mercy and grace.” Mercy! Here is that gift which blesses Him Who gives and him who takes away. That it is a source of blessings to the recipient is obvious. Here is a line of thought to return to again and again in prayer: If ever I committed a mortal sin, even one single mortal sin I owe it only to the infinite mercy of the Sacred Heart that I am not in hell at this moment.

As for Him from Whom this gift of mercy comes to us: we remember how He described the joy there is before the angels of God upon one sinner doing penance.

Side by side with mercy, there is also to be given from out the treasures, the gift of grace. Our whole booklet might be employed in the effort to speak about the marvels of divine grace and we should still be far indeed from having finished. “If thou didst know the gift of God!” All we can say here is that grace makes us sons and daughters, in a real sense, of God; that it gives us a sharing in His own life; that it enriches in a marvellous manner our every action; that it ensures our eternal salvation. And of this gift the Sacred Heart is the source and fountain-head.

This Heart, the Preface continues, never ceased to burn with love for us. We have tried, in language which must always be halting and wide of the mark, to offer some ideas about this gift of divine love and its claims upon us. We merely add here that God not only permits us to love Him, but actually commands it! “Thou shalt love the Lord thy God, with thy whole heart, with thy whole soul, with all thy strength, with all thy mind.”

This Heart is a harbour of peace and rest and tranquillity to those who are in love with Christ. “In peace, in the selfsame, shall I sleep and take my rest, for Thou, O Lord, hast confirmed me in hope.” A magnificent example of the peace communicated to the earnest soul is Blessed Claude de la Colombiere’s Act of Confidence in God.

Finally the Heart of Christ is a secure place of sanctuary for the repentent. We know that there were places where a criminal could flee to, and, if once he reached one of these, he acquired the right of sanctuary. His enemies were forbidden to lay a hand on him as long as he remained in such a refuge. The Sacred Heart is just such an abode of safety where the sinner is immune from all serious danger to his soul.

SUMMARY

In case you have not your missal handy, it may be worthwhile transcribing the pertinent portions of this Preface. “It is right and just that we should praise Thee, O God, Who didst will that Thy only-begotten Son, as He hung on the Cross, should be pierced by the lance of the soldier; that the open Heart, treasure-house of divine bounty, might pour forth upon us torrents of mercy, and of grace; and that that Heart which never ceased to burn with love for us, might become to the fervent a place of rest, and to the repentent might be opened out as a sanctuary and a refuge. . . .”

Behold this Heart! The key words to remember, as we meditate on this wonderful Preface, indicating the treasures to be looked for, are: OPEN Heart; TORRENTS of MERCY and of GRACE; LOVE; REST; a SANCTUARY and a REFUGE.

On the title-page of this pamphlet we printed St. Paul’s rousing cry: “Who, then, shall separate us from the love of Christ?” In view of all we have seen, it does seem fair to suggest that that same cry, slightly adapted, might rise up too in the Heart of Christ and form itself on His lips. It is abundantly clear that, as far as He is concerned, nothing is “ever going to separate us from Him. He is determined to have us, at almost any cost.

“Who shall separate ME from the love of men’s souls? Shall tribulation? Or distress? Or famine? I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers . . . nor any other creature, shall be able to separate Me, from the love of men, which wells up in My Sacred Heart, the Heart of Christ Jesus the Lord.”

THE PROMISES OF THE SACRED HEART

Made by Our Lord to St. Margaret Mary in favour of those who practise devotion to His Sacred Heart. 1. I will give them the graces necessary for their state.

2. I will give peace in their families.

3. I will comfort them in all their trials and afflictions.

4. I will be their secure refuge in life and death.

5. I will bestow abundant blessings on all their undertakings.

6. Sinners will find My Heart an ocean of mercy.

7. Tepid souls shall become fervent.

8. Fervent souls shall advance rapidly towards perfection.

9. I will bless every dwelling in which an image of My Heart shall be exposed and honoured. 10. I will give priests a peculiar facility in converting the most hardened souls.

11. The, persons who spread this devotion shall have their names written in My Heart, never to be effaced. 12. I promise thee, in the excessive mercy of My Heart, that Its all-powerful love will grant to all those who communicate on nine consecutive first Fridays of the month the grace of final repentance; they shall not die in My disfavour nor without receiving their Sacraments, for My Divine Heart shall be their safe refuge in this last moment.

Nihil Obstat :

BERNARD O’CONNOR, Diocesan Censor.

Imprimatur:

@ DANIEL MANNIX;

Archiepiscopus Melburnensis. 10th April, 1963.

********

The Sacred Roman Rota

AND THE JUDICIAL SYSTEM OF THE CATHOLIC CHURCH

BY REV. M. J. BROWNE, D.D., D.C.L

INDEX

A NEWSPAPER SENSATION

THE recent* decision of a Roman Court declaring invalid the marriage of the Duke of Marlborough and Consuelo Vanderbilt, was seized on by some newspapers as material for a first-class journalistic sensation. The decision was featured in prominent headlines for days: its legal and religious aspects were discussed at length. The fact that the parties were of high social position and belonged to some of the wealthiest families of England and America attracted attention to the case. But what was chiefly enlarged on was that the court which pronounced judgment was a court of the Catholic Church, acting with jurisdiction from the Pope himself. Two inferences were commonly made-firstly, that the decision was a dissolution of the marriage; secondly, that the wealth of the parties had something to do with the verdict. Taking these two points for granted, the critics proceeded to impeach the Roman Court and the whole Catholic Church. They declared that the Church does not really exclude divorce and is not sincere in its teaching of the “indissolubility of the marriage bond,” if it possesses a court which grants dissolution of marriage just as the divorce courts of England and America do. Again, it was stated that Rome has one law for the rich and another for the poor. Catholics who cannot afford the expense of a costly trial in Rome must endure their matrimonial difficulties, while the wealthy are able to secure an accommodating decision from the Rota. Many critics apparently believe that the Catholic authorities are ready to grant exemption from their laws to those who can pay for it. Others, indeed, do not accuse the Papal court of greed for money: they represent the motive of the proceedings at the Rota to be the desire to win over to the Catholic fold persons of influence and high social status.

In many instances it is quite obvious that these charges are the product of bigoted hostility. The type of person who identifies the Roman Church with anti-Christ, and who will seize any pretext to whet this venom, is not yet extinct. But in all instances the charges could have been made or believed only because of ignorance or misunderstanding of the Catholic position. The feature of the discussions in the Marlborough case in the Press or outside, which was most impressive and significant, was the widespread extent of this ignorance. It is true, of course, that many of the points at issue were legal and abstruse. Questions of procedure and jurisdiction, of the validity or nullity of contractual obligations, may present difficulties to the ordinary man. But even those who pretend to a high degree of culture, betrayed the most hazy conceptions of the teaching and law of the Church on marriage, not to speak of the nature and functions of the Rota. If the discussion has had the effect of arousing, in Catholics at least, a desire to know more of the system of courts through which the Church administers justice, it will have produced one good result.

Within the limits of a pamphlet such as this it is clearly impossible to give a full account of the Rota and that system, but even an outline will suffice to rebut charges that are based solely on misunderstanding.

THE PLACE OF THE ROTA IN THE PAPAL GOVERNMENT

The Sacred Roman Rota is part of the great system of government established in the city of Rome, by means of which the Pope discharges the duties which devolve on him as the Supreme Ruler of the Catholic Church. That government is divided into three sections, the administrative, executive, and judicial. The Congregations of Cardinals, with their officials and consultors, form the administrative section. Their function is to secure the observance of laws, the proper supervision of dioceses and ecclesiastical affairs, the appointment of officers, and such matters. The executive section consists of the Offices of the curia: they deal with the diplomatic and secretarial work. The third section is composed of the tribunals which administer justice. They are as distinct from, and independent of, the Congregations, as, in England, the King’s Bench is from the Departments of State at Whitehall.

The Rota belongs to the judicial section: it is one of the tribunals through which the Pope exercises his sovereign power of administering justice in ecclesiastical matters: its sole function is to hear and decide, according to the law,

1927 cases duly submitted to it. The Court has its seat in the Palace of the Dataria, which lies adjacent to the famous Quirinal Palace, formerly the residences of the Popes but now occupied by the King of Italy.

How or why the Court was called by the name Rota cannot now be satisfactorily explained: there are, at least, four theories put forward, but the origin of the title is lost in antiquity. The Latin word Rota means a wheel or circle, and the Court may have received its name from the round table at which the judges sat; just as an English court is called the King’s Bench. The Rota consists ordinarily of ten judges whose official title is Auditores: they are of equal status and authority, and the senior, or Dean, as he is called, obtains precedence, but no jurisdiction, over the other judges. The appointment of a judge is made by the Pope in person. The qualifications required by law for the office are that the candidate be in priest’s orders, have obtained the doctorate in canon and civil law, be of mature age, and be distinguished for moral integrity, prudence, and legal skill. These are the only conditions prescribed by law; there are others, based on custom and tradition. It is a recognised rule that the Rota includes judges of different nationalities, as befits a tribunal that has to deal with cases from all parts of the Catholic world. The English, French, German, Polish, or Slav races are each represented by at least one judge. It is also the custom that judges are appointed from among those who have been distinguished advocates at the Bar of the Court, and have thereat given abundant proof of legal ability. A judge of the Rota occupies one of the highest judicial offices in the Church: he is endowed with the ecclesiastical status and dignity of the prelacy, and with a number of important personal privileges, such as exemption from the jurisdiction of the local Hierarchy.

The constitution of the Rota includes also a number of Court officials. First of these is the Promoter of justice. He is a Rota advocate of the foremost rank, who is appointed to defend the side of law and justice, to conduct criminal prosecutions, and to intervene in all civil cases where the interests of public order are affected. The office corresponds to that of Crown Prosecutor or Procureur General in the lay courts. Next in order is the Defender of the Bond. His functions are akin to those of the Promoter of Justice, but they are confined to cases in which the validity of a marriage, ordination, or religious profession is impugned. It is his duty to uphold strenuously the validity of the bond in all such cases, in order that a wrong decision be not given through collusion of the parties or lack of proper legal defence. Of the other officials of the Rota-the Registrar and Assistant-Registrar, the Archivist and Accountant, it is not necessary to speak. Their functions are evident from the names, and resemble those in exercise in every wellorganised tribunal.

A word must be said about the Counsel or Advocates, who can undertake the defence of cases in hearing before the Rota. They form an important and interesting body. Only those who have been inscribed on the Roll of Rotal Advocates have the right of pleading as counsel for a litigant. Admission to the Roll, which is equivalent to the call to the Bar in our civil courts, is granted only to those who have fulfilled a number of conditions. They must have obtained the degree of Doctor in Canon Law, at least; have completed a three years’ course of special training in the procedure and law of the Court, and have undergone a special examination held in the presence of all the judges. The call to the Roll is given by the Dean of the Rota, and the successful candidate must take an oath to discharge his duties faithfully in conscience. The Roll of Advocates at present includes over a hundred distinguished lawyers, both clerical and lay, some of whom are also Professors in the Faculties of Law in Rome. At the head of the corps is the special and exclusive group of the Consistorial Advocates, all of whom are laymen. They are constituted a Bar Council, and have disciplinary power over all members of the Bar in their professional capacity: on representation from the Council, the Court will fine, suspend, or remove advocates from the Roll for unprofessional conduct. The fees to which advocates are entitled are determined in the Rules of the Court within minimum and maximum rates for the different proceedings.

THE PROCEDURE BEFORE THE ROTA

From this outline of the constitution of the Court we may now proceed to describe its procedure or manner of working. Cases are tried not by a single judge but by a bench of three, selected according to a fixed rule of rotation. If the case be of particular difficulty or importance, or have given rise to several appeals, it will be tried by the whole court of ten judges sitting together. Proceedings are opened by the presentation of a bill of petition setting forth the names of the parties and the matter of complaint. If it be found in order, a citation or summons to appear is issued to the parties. On the date fixed the Court assembles, and the exact issue on which a decision is to be given is determined by agreement between the parties, or, failing that, by the Court, and a day is then appointed for the examination of the parties and their witnesses. This examination is not open to the public, and is conducted by a judge, not by an advocate. Counsel submit to the judge the points on which they wish the witness to be questioned. This seems strange to those who are accustomed to the system which allows advocates liberty to cross-examine witnesses as vigorously or ruthlessly as they please. The rule, however, that the judge conducts the examination is well known in the civil courts on the Continent, and is the most logical, as well as the fairest, method. For it is the judge’s function to sift the value of the evidence and appraise the character of the witness. This he can do most effectively by putting questions directly, as may frequently be observed to happen in our civil courts when the barrister has concluded his examination.

The evidence of each witness is taken down in writing by the clerk of the Court and read over to, and signed by, the witness. A copy of this evidence is given to the other party, who may then impugn it on the ground of irrelevance, obscurity, or contradiction, and ask to have it set aside.

When the case before the Rota is one of appeal from a lower court, and no new evidence is produced, the written record of the evidence given in the lower court is examined, so that parties are saved the trouble and expense of going over the same ground. It is of interest that in the New Rules established for the courts of Saorstát Eireann this method has been adopted for the hearing of appeals.

When all the evidence has been submitted, the next stage is that of the arguments of the advocates. These must be in writing: they are exchanged between the different sides and replies submitted, also in writing. If the Court permit it, a free oral discussion on some point of the case may take place. Oratory and appeals to sentiment are ruled out in favour of cold and reasoned argument.

The judges then retire for deliberation. Each judge brings this written conclusions on the facts and law of the case. The sentence is drawn up according to the view of the majority. It must give the reasons in fact and law on which it is based: otherwise it is of no legal force, according to Canon Law.

The procedure followed by the Rota is elaborate and painstaking to a degree, precisely because it is a most faithful presentation of the great Roman tradition of law. What Europe has of law today, it owes almost entirely to Rome. The real greatness of the Republican or Imperial City was not in its military conquests or its architecture, but in its unique legal and political genius. In the history of civilisation Rome stands for law, just as Greece for philosophy. The system worked out by these sturdy Latins has been accepted by all modern States: it is recognised as the almost perfect expression of the rule of reason: its maxims are of the highest authority in the law-school and in the court.

The Sacred Roman Rota is not an institution of recent growth. It counts its years not in decades but in centuries, and can compare in point of antiquity with the most venerable courts of any country. It was already in existence in 1331, when a law, the text of which is still extant, was made concerning it by Pope John XXII. But even before that date we have historical evidence of its existence, in the frequent mention of cases heard in the Papal Court by the Auditores causarum Sacri Palatii Apostolici-the Judges of the Sacred Apostolic Palace. During the whole of the Middle Ages the Rota was the most celebrated tribunal in the Catholic Church,. or, for that matter, in Europe. Histories of it have been written from different aspects: the most recent-by Cerchiari, in four volumes-is based on the diaries and records of the Court preserved in the Vatican Archives, and contains among other things a fully documented list of the 684 judges who can be traced in unbroken succession from 1870 back to the thirteenth century. The mass of historical material that centres round the Rota is immense. There are vast collections of its Decisions going back to the year 1374, which form the most imposing mass of case-law in existence.

Men rightly respect and cherish institutions which have their roots deep in the past. There is a prestige attached to antiquity. In the case of a tribunal of justice it has not merely a sentimental but a very practical value. A Court that has endured the vicissitudes of centuries is one whose rules are the concrete expression of wise experience; whose name has become a symbol of public confidence; whose traditions are a force that maintains unsullied the fair name of true and impartial justice from one generation of judges to another.

RELATION OF THE ROTA TO OTHER ECCLESIASTICAL COURTS. We have already mentioned that the Rota is mainly engaged in hearing cases of appeal. It was for such cases precisely that it was founded, and with such it was occupied during all the centuries of its existence. It is preeminently a court of appeal. To understand its functions, therefore, it is necessary to glance at the other ecclesiastical courts with which it has contact.

Every properly organised Catholic diocese is bound by canon law to have a regular tribunal for the hearing and decision of ecclesiastical cases. It is presided over by the diocesan judge-in-ordinary who is called the Officialis; he is assisted by a body of assessors, entitled the synodal judges. The Court-Registrar or Notary, the Promoter of Justice and the Defender of the Bond are the other officials who are necessary for the constitution of the court. Their work is precisely the same as that of their namesakes at the Rota.

The diocesan court is what the lawyers call a court of first instance. It is the court at which cases must first be tried and which, from the point of view of appeal, is the lowest court. If an appeal be made from the court of first instance it goes to the court of second instance. In the ecclesiastical system this is the court of the Archbishop of the Province in which the diocese is situated. If appeal be made again, it goes to the court of third or last instance-which is the Rota, the Court of the Pope. It is, however, always open to the litigant to appeal directly from the diocesan court to the Rota.

There are some classes of cases in which the lower courts are incompetent, for the hearing is reserved even in the first instance to the Rota. Such are the civil cases of Bishops, and cases affecting dioceses or religious orders or other bodies who are exempt from the diocesan authority.

There are also some cases which are reserved to the Pope in person, e.g., the criminal trials of Bishops, and all cases affecting Cardinals or temporal sovereigns.

Outside such exceptions, the Rota is for all ecclesiastical cases the Court, of Appeal. If, then, the Rota gives a wrong decision or refuses to reopen a case, is there no redress? There still remains a tribunal which fulfils an important, though unobtrusive, function. It is the Supreme Tribunal of the Apostolic Signatura. It consists of six Cardinals of the Roman Church assisted by a number of subordinate assessors and officials. This is, properly speaking, the highest tribunal in the Catholic Church, except when the Pope sits in person, which happens rarely. But it is not a court which hears and decides cases of appeal: it is a court which tries judges themselves, and petitions for a retrial of a case by a lower court. If a charge be brought against a judge of the Rota of having violated secrecy, of having given an invalid or unjust sentence, or if he be objected to on suspicion of partiality, it is the Apostolic Signatura which hears the charge. Again, if petition be made for a new trial of a case already decided by the Rota, the Apostolic Signatura decides whether the petition be granted; if the decision be favourable, the case is sent back to the Rota to be tried by a new bench of three, or by the whole body of ten judges.

It is obvious that the mere existence of such a tribunal is a great safeguard against any form of judicial corruption. We have not in this country any court which is an exact parallel to the Apostolic Signatura, but such exact parallels do exist in Continental countries-in the Cour de cassation of France and the Corte di cassazione of Italy, for instance. In these countries any.plaint against the decision of a court of appeal is made before the Court of Cassation, and if it be successful the case is sent back to a Court of Appeal for a re-trial.

THE CHRISTIAN COURTS IN HISTORY

From this brief outline it can be seen that the Sacred Roman Rota is not merely a fully organised tribunal of great antiquity, but also that it is an integral part of an elaborate and world-wide system which provides extensive facilities for the efficient administration of justice in ecclesiastical matters. It comes as a surprise to many people that the Catholic Church possesses a judicial organisation that can compare with that of any of our modern States. Their surprise is due to ignorance of the Church and her history- we should rather say, of the history of Europe. For several centuries there were in all civilised Christian countries two classes of public courts, the courts of the king and the courts of the Church, the former for civil or temporal cases, the latter for ecclesiastical or spiritual cases. They functioned side by side ; the limits of their competence were clearly marked; their decisions were held in equal respect and enforced by the executive authority of the land. The courts of the Church tried cases affecting the spiritual rights of her subjects, disputes about ecclesiastical benefices, and violations of ecclesiastical discipline. Outside these bounds they did not claim jurisdiction, or interfere in that of the civil courts. In England we find that they were given jurisdiction in some matters which are only remotely spiritual and which the Church elsewhere did not claim-in wills and bequests and in all cases of widows and orphans. Public confidence in the Courts Christian, as they were called, was evidently high when their sphere of action was extended to matters of such general importance. In these days of PreReformation England, appeals from the diocesan court went to York or Canterbury, and thence to the Rota in Rome. It was at times not a pleasing thing for the English king that his subjects sought justice outside his realms-especially when he was at war with France, and the Papal Court was at Avignon. His resentment went so far once as to prohibit such appeals, but the prohibition soon became a dead letter. The full ecclesiastical system was in force down to the time of Henry VIII. When that monarch wished to impugn the validity of his marriage it was in a Papal Court the case was pleaded-and without avail. Henry broke in anger with the Holy See: the ecclesiastical courts continued to function, but they were no longer independent. Thenceforth their authority was derived not from the head of the Catholic Church of Christ, but from Henry or Elizabeth, head of the Church of England: appeals went no longer to the Rota but to the King’s Court of Chancery (The Act of Submission 25 Henry VIII. 1533). The fact that ecclesiastical courts were maintained long after the break with Rome shows how necessary they were felt to be.

Similarly, in France, the Courts of the Church were publicly recognised down to the time of the Revolution of 1789. Thereafter they did not cease to exist: they ceased merely to have the support and backing of the State; their decisions were no longer enforced by the police. So wherever the old union of Church and State was abolished, the Courts Christian merely lost legal status, but they continued in all countries to function by virtue of the same authority on which they were always based-that of the Catholic Church; and if they lost status in the eyes of the law they retained their binding force in conscience.

The history of the Church shows that the holding of courts by her is not a modern development, but can be traced back to the earliest centuries. That is a matter for the history-books: what is more to our purpose now is to show that this practice is part of the very life and constitution of the Church, which she is bound to maintain.

THE RIGHT OF THE CHURCH TO HOLD COURTS

Every society or organised group, be it only a club, has rules for its government, and has some tribunal or authority to interpret these rules and decide whether they have been violated. It is a principle necessary for the existence of such bodies that all matters pertaining to their internal life shall be judged by an internal tribunal. As it is usually stated, members must accept the decision of the domestic umpire as final. So it is that every religious group or sect has its own tribunal for the settlement of its domestic affairs. It may be called a court, synod, presbytery, conference, or sanhedrin. The principle is the same in all. The more numerous and highly-organised is the sect, so much the more precision and solemnity will its judicial system display. The courts of the Catholic Church surpass in splendour and dignity those of other religious bodies, because the Catholic Church is the most numerous and widely-diffused body, and because nineteen centuries of thought and zeal have been devoted to the perfection of her organisation.

Merely on this ground, therefore -that she is a voluntary association-the Church has the right, which every club has, of possessing a domestic tribunal. But there is another ground also which exists in her case, and in her case alone, it is one of particular significance and weight.

When Christ established His Church he gave the power and right to govern it not to the Roman Emperor but to the Twelve Apostles. It is only those who have received full spiritual power by the imposition of hands in the Sacrament of Orders, and who have obtained the commission of authority that has come down unbroken from the Apostles that have the lawful right of governing the Church. They are the Bishops, united under their Head, the successor of Peter. By the will and decree of the divine Founder of the Church, they and they alone have authority to rule the Church. The State has its own function-to provide for the temporal prosperity of its citizens-and it is enough. It has no right to govern or interfere in the Church, simply because that power was not given it by Christ. Hence, the Church is not a department of the State. No Parliament has the right to decide what her faith, doctrine, or prayer- book should be.

The Church of Christ, furthermore, is for all men of all races, and however widely it spreads, it is to remain one united Church. Now, if the Church were to become subject to, or part of, the State, it could never fulfil its divine mission of teaching all men; it could never become an international, universal church. It would split up into national or racial divisions, its activity would be hampered by national jealousy and political intrigue, its unity of faith and discipline would be lost.

The spiritual independence of the Church is, therefore, its very life-blood, its divinely-appointed heritage. The Catholic Church will maintain that heritage at all costs. She is not a national church nor subject to any State: has never consented to be such, and will never consent. To imagine her to consent is to imagine her as false to the teaching of Christ, and Christ as false to His promise to her. Throughout all her history she has fought with wonderful tenacity and courage for her independence. When she could have secured peace and worldly comfort by accepting the dictation of the State, she has, with indomitable resolve, refused to sacrifice her liberty. The Greek and Protestant Churches accepted dictation and have paid the penalty. The Catholic Church remains independent from the day of Nero to the day of Calles.

By virtue, therefore, of her divine constitution she has the right to provide freely for her own government. It is not through ambition or worldly seeking but because it is the will of her Founder. She does not thereby subvert or interfere with the authority of the State. Quite the contrary!

By none is the authority of the State more reverenced or its laws more respected than by Catholics, for the Catholic Church teaches that the authority of the State within its proper sphere is from God, and that citizens are bound in conscience to uphold and obey it.

THE LIMITS OF ECCLESIASTICAL COMPETENCE

The Courts of the Church do not oust the jurisdiction of the civil courts. They deal only with matters which are within the proper sphere and competence of the Church. The bounds of that competence are very clearly defined in canon law: they comprise only what is required for the regulation of the life of the Church. The opponents and critics of the Church have represented her as interfering in purely civil matters and dividing the allegiance of the subject. They do not state the truth, as they can find it clearly expressed in canon 1553 of the Church Code. That canon enumerates the classes of cases in which the Church claims sole competence. They are: firstly, cases which deal with spiritual objects; secondly, cases of violation of ecclesiastical laws and of violation of the divine law, in so far as the determination of guilt and the infliction of ecclesiastical penalties are concerned; thirdly, cases affecting ecclesiastical persons in so far as they are not subject to the civil tribunal.

This is the complete list of the matters in which Canon Law claims exclusive competence for the Courts of the Church. It includes all that follows necessarily from the fact that the Church is a spiritual society. It is based on a full recognition of the rights of the State and the proper relations between Church and State. It supplies no pretext for the charge of interference or disloyalty.

MATRIMONIAL CASES

Within the first of the classes enumerated are comprised matrimonial cases, about which there is much discussion. In all the loose and ill-formed discussion that goes on the question that is never raised, but which is the crucial question that should first be answered, is-Is marriage a spiritual or a merely temporal thing?

Non-Catholics are vague or contradictory on the point. The Catholic Church is clear and definite. It teaches that the marriage of Christians, i.e., of baptized persons, is a spiritual thing, for it is a Sacrament. Christ our Lord raised the ‘contract of marriage between his followers to the dignity of a Sacrament whereby it possesses a deep spiritual symbolism and a wonderful spiritual efficacy.’ The Sacraments of Christ belong to the jurisdiction of the Church instituted by Christ. Only the Church, therefore, can determine the conditions requisite for the validity and lawfulness of the Sacrament of Marriage. The State is not competent. In Christian times, before the Reformation-so-called-it never even claimed competence. Since then, in Protestant countries, it has usurped that power and set up divorce courts. The Protestant Churches still teach that marriage is a holy bond; but they have acquiesced in the usurpations of the State. The Catholic Church has not acquiesced. She maintains without compromise that marriage is a spiritual entity and belongs to the sphere of spiritual jurisdiction.

Now if a question be raised whether a particular marriage is valid and binding, the Church must answer that question herself. She cannot hand it over to the State, and, at the same time hold that marriage is a Sacrament. She is, therefore, bound to provide a tribunal to decide that question fully and formally, according to the written law of Christian marriage. Otherwise she would be false to the divine teaching that the marriage of Christians is a Sacrament and false to her duty to Christians.

CASES OF NULLITY OF MARRIAGE

The decision of matrimonial cases is, therefore, for the Church the discharge of a duty. The only cases which are considered by an ecclesiastical court are cases of nullity, those in which it is contended that the marriage was from the beginning null and void because of the absence of some of the conditions required for marriage; and in which the decision sought is a declaration of that nullity. Thus, one of the obvious conditions required for a valid marriage is that each of the contracting parties be sane: lunatics cannot contract marriage. Now if a question be raised about a particular marriage, and if it be proved that one of the parties was insane at the time of the ceremony, the Court will give a declaration of nullity. It does not dissolve the marriage: it merely gives an official recognition of a fact-that there was no marriage there from the beginning. Decisions of nullity do not affect the sanctity or indissolubility of the marriage bond: they do not break, lessen, or weaken that bond: they are not opposed to the doctrine of the indissolubility of marriage, for they are concerned only with the preliminary question whether a valid marriage had been contracted at all.

They are totally distinct in law and in practice from divorce cases. In law a divorce case is one in which the marriage is admitted by both parties to have been valid, but, for some reason which has supervened since the marriage, a dissolution or breaking of the bond is sought. In these cases the Court does not merely recognise a fact; it claims and exercises a power, to make what has been good and binding no longer of any effect. Sentences of divorce are contrary to the indissolubility of marriage: they are directly opposed to, and destructive of, the teaching that a valid marriage cannot for any cause be dissolved.

That there is a world of difference between divorce cases and cases of nullity is quite clear to any person who reflects. The difference is of vast theoretical and practical importance. Divorce in theory is based on a denial of the sacredness of the marriage tie: in practice wherever it has been introduced it has led to the breaking up of countless marriages and homes, and to a general lowering of public moral standards. Neither of these objections attach to cases of nullity: they do not impugn the binding force of marriage, and they are of their nature so rare and infrequent that they cannot by any stretch of imagination lead to abuse.

The difference between divorce and nullity cases is so obvious that a person of ordinary intelligence cannot be sincere in denying it, or in saying that it is a legal quibble. No one who has any knowledge of English law, at any rate, will pretend to deny the difference or to say that it is a quibble. In English law the distinct nature of nullity and divorce is very clearly recognised. The conditions under which nullity of marriage arises and the procedure to be followed are dealt with in full in every legal hand-book. One will find there, in fact, two kinds of nullity cases contrasted: the first class is those which are so clearly and absolutely void that their nullity can be pleaded in any court by any person and even after the death of the parties. To quote from a famous judgment given in 1812, which has become the classic text on the subject: “Civil disabilities such as prior marriage, want of age, idiocy, and the like make the contract void ab initio: they render the parties incapable of contracting at all; and if any persons under these legal incapacities come together, it is a meretricious and not a matrimonial union.”

The other kind of nullity cases are those in which the plea of nullity can be put forward only during the life-time of the parties. To quote from the same judgment:-”The canonical disabilities such as consanguinity, affinity, and certain corporal infirmities only make the marriage voidable, and not ipso facto void until the sentence of nullity be obtained: and such marriages are esteemed valid unto all civil purposes unless such sentence of nullity is actually declared during the life-time of the parties.”

Proceedings for nullity exist in English Law side by side with divorce. It is evident that those English writers who suggested that cases of nullity were something peculiar to canon law and were an insidious Papal device for a profitable traffic in marriage, showed themselves to be ignorant not merely of canon law but of their own English law. One does not hear often of nullity cases in the English courts: they still occur, but in comparison with divorce cases they are insignificantly few. For nullity is exceptionally difficult to prove, and the effect can be obtained now more easily through proceedings for divorce, by merely proving the fact of adultery. In fact, since divorce has become prevalent, the same attention is not paid as formerly to securing all the conditions antecedent to a proper, valid marriage. People do not bother about these conditions, for they know that if difficulty arise a divorce can be obtained. It is quite the contrary with the Catholic Church. She does not recognise or admit divorce. Once a marriage has been validly contracted there is no release till death. Hence she is particularly careful to see that marriages are validly contracted. Hence, too, she is so careful not to impose the obligations of marriage on any but a valid marriage. One of the conditions she requires for a valid marriage is full freedom of the contracting parties-freedom from violence and intimidation. Marriage means a bond that will end only with death: it involves obligations and restraints of a most serious personal nature. Every individual has an inalienable right to decide freely for himself whether he will marry or not. He has a right to decide to whom he will get married. These rights are essential to the liberty of the subject: they are recognized by every civilised State. Every State requires freedom as an essential condition of marriage. Without freedom there is no willing consent, no acceptance of obligation, no binding contract. If, therefore, a case occur in which intimidation is alleged, the Church must be prepared to examine it fully and judicially. If intimidation is proved, she must be as firm in denying any force to that invalid ceremony as she is in upholding the sanctity of a free, valid marriage.

Hostile critics of the Church pretend that the requirement of conditions for validity of marriage provides a loophole or pretext by means of which a great number of marriages are rendered invalid, so that afterwards, if need arise, they can be impugned. They forget-or pretend to forget-that even the State requires such conditions, and that there must be conditions. How could there be such a thing as marriage, if it were not made up of certain essential elements? How could we define it, or distinguish it from such an act as that of engaging a housekeeper? Conditions there must be in the absence of which the act is not a marriage; and they must be defined in detail. English Law requires a number of them. Thus, in the Encyclopedia of the Laws of England, volume 10, page 94, we read: “To render a marriage legal according to English Law it is necessary that it should be entered into by single persons, not being within the prohibited degrees of consanguinity or affinity, both of whom are of consenting and sound mind, and able to perform the duties of matrimony. Consent being, therefore, one of the necessary ingredients to the contracting of a valid marriage, on the principle that, according to the laws of this country consensus non concubitus facit matrimonium (consent, not cohabitation, makes a marriage), instances occur now and again of petitions for nullity on the ground of want of consent or duress: Miss Turner’s Case, H.L. Journ., 1827, 308”-and a long list of cases tried before English courts is cited, in which the validity of a marriage was impugned on the ground of intimidation or fraud.

These conditions of English law are identical with those required by canon law -for the simple reason that the marriage law of England was borrowed almost entirely from the mediaeval canon law. There are two important differences, however, between the two systems as they now stand, and they are both in favour of the canon law. Firstly, the conditions in canon law are clear and precise: in English law the requirements under the head of consanguinity are anything but clear: “To ascertain what ‘the prohibited degrees’ are, we are left to grope among the statutes of Henry VIII., and are then, as we have seen, thrown back upon the old Mosaical Law as laid down for the guidance of our forefathers in the 18th chapter of Leviticus”-is the statement of a learned authority. But then, it matters little, as long as a divorce can be obtained by the expedient of adultery. Secondly, when the Church lays down conditions, she also sees to it that they are observed. Hence, she requires marriage to be celebrated in public, in the presence of a parish priest or his delegate. Hence the elaborate precautions that are taken to ensure that everything is in order-examination of parties, publication of banns, letters of freedom, certificates—precautions which the officiating clergyman is bound in conscience to adopt (Canon 1020), and, in addition, all the faithful are bound to reveal to the parish priest or Bishop any impediment that they may know to affect a contemplated marriage (Canon 1027).

That these regulations are faithfully and successfully carried out is proved by the small number of cases of nullity that come before ecclesiastical courts. Last year* from the Catholic world, which comprises over three hundred million of subjects, only fifty-three petitions of nullity came before the Sacred Roman Rota, and in only twenty-eight of these was the marriage held to be invalid. Twenty-eight out of hundreds of thousands of marriages is surely a remarkable number. Compare it with the thousands of divorces granted each year in a single European country or a single State of America, and one will recognise that critics from these countries have no cause for fear about the attitude of the Catholic Church toward marriage. There is no ground for the pious apprehensions of outsiders that the * 1927. matrimonial courts of the Church will sink into the slough in which their own divorce courts wallow. There is no sign of a marked increase in the number, there is no change of policy in the Church. The law of the Church on what is required for the validity of marriage is quite clear: it has been fixed for centuries. The tribunals which administer that law have been working for centuries. At this or any other hour of her day there can be no change in this part of the Church’s policy.

Now let us suppose that for some reason or other a Catholic believes that his marriage was invalid and wishes to have it declared invalid. He has a serious proposition before him, a long and difficult road to travel. In the first place he has to prove that the marriage was invalid. The burden of proof rests on him. It is a maxim of canon law that “marriage enjoys the favour of the law: wherefore, in case of doubt the validity of the marriage must be upheld until the contrary be proved” (Canon 1014). Hence, if the plaintiff does not prove his case to the hilt, the decision of the Court will be Non constat de matrimonii invaliditate in casu-The invalidity of the marriage has not been established. It is not necessary in an ecclesiastical court to say any more: the case has failed.

In the second place the plaintiff will have to deal with a gentleman already referred to, the Defender of the Bond. Matrimonial proceedings in which he has not been cited or appeared are null and void. His function is to defend at all costs the validity of the marriage and to prevent fraudulent or collusive proceedings.

Even if the other party does not defend the case, the Defender of the Bond will, and must by law, undertake the work. He will be present at the examination of witnesses and have them closely questioned: he will produce witnesses and evidence for the defence, will submit pleadings and counter pleadings. Finally, if the decision be given that the marriage is invalid, he will immediately appeal to the higher court. When for the first time sentence is given for the nullity of the marriage, he is in fact bound to appeal, and if he fails, will be compelled to do so (Canon 1986). If the second sentence be likewise for the nullity of the marriage, he is not bound to appeal again: it is left to his conscience; if he has still a genuine doubt about the invalidity he is expected to appeal.

THE RIGHTS OF THE POOR

These are very serious legal obstacles for the Catholic who wishes to contest the validity of his marriage. But there is one handicap under which he will not lie, viz., poverty. The fact that he has little of the world’s goods will not debar a Catholic from prosecuting his claims at the Courts of the Church.

Comparisons are odious but everyone knows that proceedings at the civil courts even in these democratic days are not as inexpensive as people generally would desire. If the case be a difficult or protracted one, costs will run to a high figure, even though the counsel employed be not of the eminent rank of these politician-lawyers who command enormous fees. And worse still, if the case be appealed to the higher courts, the handicap of the poor man becomes crippling. In Canada there is said to be a strong feeling against the appellate jurisdiction of the English Privy Council on the ground that wealthy individuals or corporations will carry a case to London in order to break the poorer litigant with costs and make him abandon the case. As things stand in the civil courts, how embarrassed is a poor litigant against a wealthy opponent, who will heap up law costs!

In the ecclesiastical courts it is not so. The rights of the poor are carefully safeguarded in theory and in practice. It is laid down in canon law (Canon 1914) that those who are quite unable to bear the expenses of their case have a right to entire release from costs: those who are partially unable, have a right to a reduction of the costs. It is not a question of a favour or condescension, but a strict right conferred by law, which the judge is bound to respect, once the litigant supplies proof of his financial condition. The judge must also appoint one of the advocates of the Court to undertake the defence of the poor person’s case, and the advocate so appointed must faithfully discharge the trust under penalty of suspension from the Roll, if the judge so decree (Canon 1916). These regulations bind on all ecclesiastical courts, from the highest to the lowest.

In fairness to the civil courts of this country (Ireland), at any rate, it should be stated that they have a regulation by which a poor person may claim to plead in forma pauperis, which means that he is free of judicial expenses, and may ask the gratuitous services of a barrister. Equality of citizen rights -the charter of democracy-demands that regulation. But in how many cases do we hear of it being availed of?

In the case of the Roman Rota we have precise statistics of the number of cases in which it was availed of. Last year (1927) of the sixty-one cases which were decided, in twenty-five the proceedings were gratuitous.

Last year was in no way exceptional. Thus, for the six years preceding 1921, when there was little public interest in the Rota, the percentage of cases which were decided free of costs and with the free services of an advocate was 30 per cent-one out of every three. Such statistics speak for themselves. Are there any other courts which show such consideration for the poor as do the Courts of the Holy See? Yet the Holy See is not an enormously wealthy power like England or America, but depends for its revenues on the alms of the faithful-the pence of Peter.

The charge that the Rota discriminates in favour of the rich, that its decisions can be obtained only by the wealthy, is an utter and complete falsehood. Those who made the charge knew nothing of the Rota, and did not take the trouble to enquire. The journalists who wrote so glibly about the Marlborough case knew nothing about the Rota, its history, law, procedure, or practice. The attacks that were made on that decision received an official reply, the publication of the evidence of the case. It was a dignified and crushing reply.

In conclusion, this should be stated. It is very natural that the Rota is an object of great interest to non-Catholic as well as Catholic. For it is a unique institution. It is the only international tribunal that is in permanent session and that functions daily. Yet it is independent not merely of individual States but of all of them. It is a striking visible symbol of two outstanding qualities of the Church, its universality and its independence. It is because it represents these startling qualities, that it has attracted so much attention, especially from hostile quarters. For there is nothing that the enemies of the Church have striven so hard to destroy, as her claim to freedom from political domination and her right to preach the truth of God to all men. The Rota is a living, visible proof of the success that the Catholic Church has won in that conflict.

Nihil obstat :

J. DONOVAN, Censor Deputatus

Imprimatur :

@ D. MANNIX,

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis. 1931

********

The Saints of The Canon

BY MONSIGNOR JOHN T. MCMAHON M.A., PH.D

INDEX

Within the Canon the Church mentions by name two lists of saints who were martyred during the first four centuries after the Death of Christ.

St. Paul assures us that we are “fellow-citizens of the saints.” (Eph.2. 19) and that we can draw upon their immense spiritual credit balance. The saints of the Canon make up for our deficiencies. We, as members of the Communion of Saints, are never alone in offering the Holy Sacrifice. The Canon saints are active in our cause praying the Mass with us and for us.

In human society the presence of distinguished persons adds dignity to an occasion and makes us more attentive and respectful. Judge then the Mass by those who are present and what they expect from us. On the altar and around it are the angels and the saints with Christ their Head. Let us think over this often and thus enrich our offering of the Mass.

Some day we hope to meet the Canon saints in heaven. In preparation for that happy meeting let us get to know something about them now and so widen our friendship.

The rubrics instruct the celebrant to bow his head to the Missal on mentioning the name of the saint on his feastday. Let us join in that delightful little courtesy and so win the saint’s affection and help. To remind us to do this we should put an asterisk in red ink on the feast day Masses of the Canon saints in our daily missals.

The aim of this little book is to introduce the saints of the Canon by short sketches of their lives and death so that when we name them in the Canon we know something about them.

FEASTDAYS OF THE SAINTS OF THE CANON

JANUARY: 21ST: ST. AGNES.

FEBRUARY:

1st: St. Ignatius.

5th: St. Agatha.

24th: St. Matthias.

MARCH:

6th: St. Felicitas.

6th: St. Perpetua.

MAY:

1st: St. James the Less.

1st: St. Philip.

3rd: St. Alexander I.

JUNE:

2nd: St. Marcellinus.

2nd: St. Peter.

11th: St. Barnabas.

24th: St. John the Baptist.

26th: SS. John and Paul.

29TH: SS. PETER AND PAUL. APRIL:

26TH: ST. CLETUS. JULY:

25th: St. James the Greater.

THE “COMMUNICANTES” LIST OF MARTYRS The third prayer of remembrance before the consecration commemorates by name, Mary, the Queen of Martyrs, the twelve Apostles, and twelve Roman Martyrs. There is proportion and symmetry in the arrangement of names, which might be graphically expressed thus: 1 + 12 + 12. The martyrs mentioned are Roman martyrs, with the exception of St. Cyprian, Bishop of Carthage, whose cult was warmly received by the people of Rome ever since his martyrdom at Carthage.

The “Communicantes” honours the Church Triumphant for it adds to the list of names the words-”and of all Thy saints.” In this remembrance in the Canon of the Mass we ask “through the merits and prayers” of this mighty host of God’s saints in Heaven that “we may be defended in all things by the help of Thy protection.”

THE “COMMUNICANTES” PRAYER.

“In communion with, and venerating the memory

MARY HEADS THE LIST

“in the first place of the glorious ever Virgin Mary, Mother of our God and Lord Jesus Christ; also of Thy blessed

Apostles and Martyrs,

TWELVE APOSTLES

“PETER AND PAUL, ANDREW, JAMES, JOHN, THOMAS, JAMES, PHI LIP, BARTHOLOMEW, MATTHEW, SIMON AND THADDEUS, FIVE POPES

“Linus, Cletus, Clement, Xystus, Cornelius,

AN AFRICAN BISHOP

“Cyprian,

ARCHDEACON OF ROME

“Laurence,

FIVE LAYMEN

“Chrysogonus, John and Paul, Cosmas and Damian,

SAINTS IN GENERAL

“and of all Thy Saints; by whose merits and prayers grant that we may be defended in all things by the help of Thy protection. Through the same Christ Our Lord. Amen.”

COMMENTARY

THE BLESSED VIRGIN MARY, MOTHER OF GOD

The Blessed Virgin, Queen of Mar tyrs, heads the list with the title “Mother of God” which was formally bestowed upon her at the general council convoked by Pope Celestine at Ephesus, the city of the Blessed Virgin, in 431, and held in the Cathedral dedicated to her honour. The heresy of Nestorius, who said there were two persons in Christ, divine and human, and that Mary was the mother only of the human, was condemned and the title “Mother of God” was approved. This Pope Celestine sent St. Patrick to Ireland in 432, the year following Ephesus.

Mary’s name is not mentioned simply as the other names are, but with great dignity: she is the “glorious,” the “ever virgin.”

Mary’s name is inseparable from the Sacrifice of Christ. He came first in emptying Himself. Mary comes next for she gave more than Apostles and martyrs, and thus understands the sacrifice of giving. She “stood by the Cross of Jesus,” and great as the sea was then her sorrow. She is justly called the Queen of Martyrs.

Whenever a soul comes to God in Holy Mass he does so in communion with Mary. Let us bring Mary with us whenever we come to Mass. She knows that the more a soul gives itself into His hands, the more perfectly does He work for its sanctity. No one has abandoned herself to Him as Mary has. No one has placed fewer obstacles in the way of His Will than Mary. She knows me far better than I know myself. She knows why I am unwilling to be subject to Him, why I hesitate to surrender myself to Him, and she will help me to beat down the resistance I put in His way. When He sends suffering and crosses to open our hearts to the height and depth and width and length of His Love for us, and we are reluctant to receive them as gifts from Him, Mary will strengthen us with a Mother’s love to accept them.

Never come to Mass without calling upon .her in words such as the priest says in the prayers preparing for Mass:

“0 Mother of piety! 0 Mother of Mercy, most blessed Virgin Mary, I, a wretched and unworthy sinner, cling to thee with all the affection of my heart, and I appeal to thy piety, that as thou stood by the Cross of thy Son, so thou wilt assist me, poor sinner that I am, and all the priests who here, and throughout the world, offer the holy sacrifice today so that it may be a worthy and acceptable offering in the sight of the Blessed Trinity.”

THE TWELVE APOSTLES

ST. PETER: JUNE 29TH

First on the list of the twelve apostles is the name of St. Peter, the first Pope. His name was originally Simon, but was changed to “Peter” when Christ designated him as the “Rock” on which the Church was to be built:

“And I say to thee: That thou art Peter; and upon this rock I will build my Church, and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it.” (St. Matt. XIV. 18).

St. Peter was a fisherman, born at Bethsaida, on the western shore of the Sea of Galilee. From there, while he was casting a net into the water, Our Lord called him to become a fisher of men. St. Peter is mentioned frequently in the Gospels, and much of his subsequent history is found in the Acts of the Apostles.

We admire his rugged faith when he spoke for his brethren on the occasion of the promise of the Blessed Eucharist:

“Then Jesus said to the twelve: Will you also go away? And Simon Peter answered him: Lord, to whom shall we go? Thou hast the words of eternal life. And we have believed and have known that thou art the Christ the Son of God.” (St. John VI. 68–70).

A delightful picture of his impetuous love for Christ is painted by St. John. They were fishing on the Sea of Galilee, when St. John joyfully exclaimed: “It is the Lord!” Peter hesitated not a moment, but jumped from the boat and swam to the shore, to be the first to greet his Master. There that day on the sands St. Peter made his threefold profession of love: “Thou knowest all things; Thou knowest that I love thee.” (St. John XXI. 4–17). Yes, even though he had denied Him, he does not fear to make that open declaration of love for his Master.

For twentyfive year’s St. Peter lived in Rome as the first Pope. Under the persecution of Nero he was cast into the Mamertine Prison, whence after eight months he was led out to be martyred. On hearing that he was to be crucified, he asked that he might be crucified with his head downwards, for he was not worthy to suffer in the same way as his Divine Master.

His martyrdom is believed to have taken place on the 29th June, in the year 67.

ST. PAUL: JUNE 29TH

St. Matthias is omitted because this list was made at Rome, and the preference for St. Paul is easily understood. St. Paul, formerly called Saul, was born in the commercial city of Tarsus, and enjoyed the rights of a Roman citizen. He first appears in the Scriptures as the young man who held the garments of those stoning St. Stephen to death (Acts VII. 1.9). In the Acts St. Luke tells us of St. Paul’s missionary journeys, his sufferings and imprisonments, shipwreck and dangers, of his tireless zeal and ceaseless efforts to prove himself an Apostle. It is in his own fourteen Epistles that we glimpse the soul of this ardent lover of Christ.

It is believed that St. Paul was martyred in Rome on the same day as St. Peter, and so these two are inseparably united in the liturgy, sharing the same feastday. St. Paul, being a Roman citizen, did not suffer the ignominious death of the cross. He was beheaded.

“The Tiber on entering Rome,” writes an ancient poet, “salutes the basilica of St. Peter and, on leaving it, that of St. Paul. Rome is between the two.”

The liturgy links St. Peter, the new Moses, the leader of the new Israel, with St. Paul, the new Aaron, more eloquent than the first, a vessel of election to bring the grace of Christ to the Gentiles.

ST. ANDREW: NOVEMBER 30TH

St. John tells us that Andrew was the first of the disciples to meet Our Lord. Having spent the day with Him

Andrew sought his brother, Peter, and brought him to Jesus:

“He findeth first his brother Simon, and saith to him: We have found the Messias, which is, being interpreted, the

Christ, and he brought him to Jesus.” (St. John I. 41–42.)

Both Peter and Andrew received the call to the Apostolate on the same occasion:

“And Jesus walking by the Sea of Galilee, saw two brethren, Simon who is called Peter, and Andrew his brother, casting a net into the sea (for they were fishers).

And he saith to them: Come ye after me, and I will make you to be fishers of men.

And they immediately leaving their nets, followed him.” (St. Matt.IV. 18–20).

St. Andrew is mentioned several times in the Gospels. We find his name among the wedding guests at Cana. On the day when Christ multiplied the loaves and fishes, it is Andrew who pointed out the boy: “One of his disciples, Andrew, the “brother of Simon Peter, saith to him: There is a boy here that hath five barley loaves, and two fishes; but what are these among so many?” (St. JohnVI. 8–9).

For this act of consideration he shares with St. Peter and St. Paul the honour of being mentioned twice within the

Canon. In the prayer “Deliver us” (“Lihera nos”) which follows immediately after the Pater Noster we say: “together with Thy blessed Apostles Peter and Paul, and Andrew.”

St. Andrew preached the Gospel in Asia Minor, and in Greece, where he suffered martyrdom, being cruelly tortured, and then crucified on a cross of distinctive shape, resembling the letter “X,” which is called St. Andrew’s cross.

St. Andrew is patron saint of Scotland. About the year 369 important relics of the saint were brought from

Constantinople to Scot. land, and there enshrined in a church built on a site where stands the present city of St.

Andrews.

His head was placed by Pope Pius II in the basilica of St. Peter, his brother.

ST. JAMES THE GREATER: JULY 25TH

St. James was the elder brother of St. John. The two brothers are referred to by St. Luke as “the sons of Zebedee.”

(St. Luke V. 10).

Their mother, Salome, who was present at the Crucifixion (St. Mark xv. 40), was a near relative of the Blessed

Virgin, possibly a sister. Consequently, these two Apostles were cousins of Our Lord, and together with St. Peter were privileged to witness the raising of the daughter of Jairus to life, also the Transfiguration on Mount Thabor, and the three were with Our Lord in the garden at His agony.

Soon after the Ascension, according to ancient tradition, St. James preached the Gospel in Spain. St. James was the first to fulfil his pledge to Our Lord: “Can you drink the chalice that I shall drink?” (St. Matt. XX. 22). He was put to death by the sword in Jerusalem by Herod Agrippa some ten years after the death of Christ.

His bones, at an early date, were carried to Spain where they rest today at Santiago de Compostella. To his shrine

Spain goes annually in great national pilgrimages.

ST. JOHN THE EVANGELIST: DECEMBER 27TH

St. John is the disciple “whom Jesus loved.” (St. John XIII. 23). He it was who leant on the bosom of Our Lord at the Last Supper, who stood, next day, beside the Cross on Calvary, and to whose care the dying Saviour confided His Mother: “After that, he saith to the disciple: Behold thy mother. And from that hour the disciple took her to his own.” (St. John XIX. 27). We see him outdistancing Peter in a race to the tomb: “And they both ran together, and that other disciple did outrun Peter, and came first to the sepulchre.” (St. John XX. 4).

But St. Peter had his victory later: “And when he stooped down, he saw the linen cloths lying: but yet he went not in. Then cometh Simon Peter, following him, and went into the sepulchre.” (St. John XX.5 & 6).

No knocking at the door, no sensitiveness or shyness about that grand old man of the sea, wherever his Master was concerned!

In the year 95 A.D., during the reign of the Emperor Domitian, St. John was thrown into a cauldron of boiling oil, but emerged from it unhurt, and lived to an advanced old age at Ephesus. This is celebrated by the Church on May 6th by a special feast: “St. John before the Latin Gate.” On that holy spot there is a church in his honour in Rome today.

Besides his fourth Gospel and three Epistles he wrote the Apocalypse.

St. John was unmarried and remained so till his death. To him, a virgin, Christ entrusted His Virgin Mother. As he stood beneath the Cross on Calvary, his sufferings were equal to martyrdom. There also he drank as from a fountain a heavenly knowledge of the Holy Mass. Let us go in imagination to the Mass said by St. John in the presence of the Blessed Virgin. What an acceptable offering that must have been! What better companions can we have to walk to Mass with us than Mary and St. John who walked the way to Calvary! What better guides can we have to kneel beside us during Mass than Mary and St. John who stood by the Cross!

ST. THOMAS: DECEMBER 21ST

We hear much about “doubting Thomas” but look at the valiant and loyal follower of Christ in the following incident as narrated by St. John. On hearing of the death of His friend Lazarus, Jesus made known His wish to go to Jerusalem. The disciples remonstrated with Him on the risk he was taking, reminding Him of the recent threats of the Jews. But when Christ said: “Let us go to him.” It was Thomas who then spoke up bravely to the others: “Let us also go, that we may die with Him.” (St. John XI. 16).

Fitting words for a future martyr!

Research during the past 100 years shows that St. Thomas preached to the Parthians in the East, where tradition says he baptized the three Magi. Today in Malabar, India, there exist some 400,000 Christians who claim to be descended from converts made by St. Thomas. They call themselves “Thomas Christians,” and are organized into a province with four dioceses.

It is now accepted that St. Thomas suffered martyrdom on a hill known today as St. Thomas” Mount, some miles south of the city of Madras. A suburb of Madras is called San Thome and a fine Cathedral dedicated to St. Thomas stands there.

St. Thomas faced the dangers and uncertainties of exile, far from his homeland; so that his doubting words will be forgiven.

It is wonderful to think of Mass being said in India by one of the Apostles.

In the Mass of St. Thomas on December 21st, the Gospel narrates the famous scene which occurred in the upper room after the Lord’s Resurrection. St. Thomas doubted, and it is only when Jesus made him put his finger into the wounds, that passing suddenly from incredulity to ardent faith, he exclaimed: “My Lord and my God.” (St. John XX. 24–29).

The elevation of the Sacred Host began as an answer to the heresy of Berengarius, who denied the Real Presence. Look up at the Host and say those words of St. Thomas: “My Lord and my God,” for that practice is enriched by Pope St. Pius X with an indulgence of seven years and seven quarantines and a plenary indulgence once a week on the usual conditions.

ST. JAMES THE LESS: MAY 1ST

St. James the Less, also called th e “Just” by the Jews and Christians alike in Jerusalem, was a cousin of Our Lord, for his mother, Mary of Cleophas, was a sister of the Blessed Virgin, and stood with Our Lady beneath the Cross:

“Now there stood by the cross of Jesus, his Mother, and his Mother’s sister, Mary of Cleophas, and Mary Magdalen.” (St. John XIX. 25.)

St. James was appointed by St. Peter as the first bishop of Jerusalem, where he lived for thirty years a life of extraordinary piety and mortification. His energy in preaching Christ crucified awoke the anger of the chief priests, who stood him on the battlements of the Temple and commanded him to denounce Christ. St. James proclaimed his belief in Christ, and was immediately hurled from the walls of the Temple. As he was still able to rise to his knees, the rabble fell upon him with stones and sticks and a fuller gave him the death blow by hitting him on the head with his mallet (such as was used in dressing cloth.) The fuller’s mallet is his distinctive sign.

St. James wrote one epistle. Chapter III speaks to us all on the evils of the tongue, a chapter we should read and think about often, for as St. James says: “If any man offend not in word, the same is a perfect man.”

In this epistle also is found the Scriptural authority for Extreme Unction: “Is there any man sick among you? Let him bring in the priests of the Church, and let them pray over him, anointing him with oil in the name of the Lord.” (Ch. IV. 14).

ST. PHILIP: MAY 1ST

St. Philip was the fourth of the fishermen of Bethsaida, in Galilee, to follow Our Lord:

“On the following day he would go forth into Galilee, and he findeth Philip. And Jesus said to him: Follow me.

Now Philip was of Bethsaida, the city of Andrew and Peter.” (St. John I. 33–34). He and St. Andrew were special friends.

It was to him that Christ spoke about feeding the multitude: “When Jesus therefore had lifted up his eyes, and seen that a very great multitude cometh to him, he said to Philip: Whence shall we buy bread that these may eat?” (St. John VI. 5).

And it was his friend, Andrew, who saw the boy with the loaves and fishes and brought him forward. He was at Cana, a wedding guest.

During the Last Supper we hear Philip’s supplication: “Lord show us the Father and it is enough for us.” To which

Jesus, answering him by name, replied: “So long a time I have been with you, and have you not known me? Philip, he that seeth me, seeth the Father also.” (St. John XIV. 9).

He preached in Phrygia, and died in Hierapolis, on a cross, stoned to death.

Tradition has it that the daughters of St. Philip were the first of the holy women to dedicate their lives to God.

ST. BARTHOLOMEW: AUGUST 24TH

St. Bartholomew is probably the Nathaniel mentioned in the Gospel, who was led to the Lord by Philip: “Philip findeth Nathaniel, and saith to him: We have found him of whom Moses in the law, and the prophets did write, Jesus, the Son of Joseph of Nazareth. And Nathaniel said to him: Can anything of good come from Nazareth? Philip saith to him: Come and see Jesus saw Nathaniel coming to him, and he said of him: Behold an Israelite indeed, in whom there is no guile.

Nathaniel said to him: Whence knowest thou me? and Jesus answered and said to him: Before that Philip called thee, when thou wast under the fig tree, I saw thee.

Nathaniel answered him, and said: Rabbi, thou art the Son of God, thou art the King of Israel.” (St. John I 45–49).

A direct, blunt personality, with no folds or pretences. He asks his questions frankly and then satisfied, he accepts.

Tradition tells us that he evangelized parts of the Indies, afterwards going to Armenia, where he was martyred, being first thrown into a fire and then crucified, like St. Peter, with his head downwards.

ST. MATTHEW: SEPTEMBER 21ST

St. Matthew, both Apostle and Evangelist, was a publican or tax-gatherer, whose calling was despised by the Jews, for the publicans were unjust, and worse still, unpatriotic. Matthew must have been an honest man. His immediate response to Our Lord’s call shows him as a generous and determined character:

“He saw a publican named Levi, sitting at the receipt of custom, and he said to him: Follow me. And leaving all things, he rose upand followed him.” (St. Luke V. 27.28).

After his conversion he was called Matthew, meaning “the gift of God.”

Tradition holds that he preached in Arabia and Ethiopia.

It is believed that he was attacked and killed while saying Mass. We cherish that belief and like to picture St. Matthew going on calmly with his Mass as the rabble, with much shouting, storm the altar.

Today his relics are honoured in the metropolitan church at Salerno, whose patron saint he is.

St. Matthew is represented by an animal with a human face because he commences his Gospel by tracing the human descent of Christ. His object in writing his Gospel is to prove that the prophecies were fulfilled in Jesus Christ, Who is therefore the Messias.

ST. SIMON, THE ZEALOT: OCTOBER 28TH. ST. LUKE WRITES OF “SIMON WHO IS CALLED ZELOTES.” (ST. LUKE VI. 15)

He is said to have preached in Egypt, and also in Persia, where he was cut in two with a sword.

ST. JUDE, OR THADDEUS: OCTOBER 28TH

He wrote an epistle, which is addressed to Jewish converts, among whom he had been an Apostle. He followed the Jews in Syria and Mesopotamia. Later he preached in Armenia where he suffered death by being shot with arrows while tied to a cross. The bones of these two apostles, St. Simon and St. Jude, linked together in the liturgy, are honoured in St. Peter’s, Rome.

This is the record of the Apostles, who not only scattered the seed of the divine word, but laboured to bring it to maturity, and fructified it with their blood.

THE FIRST FIVE SUCCESSORS TO ST. PETER

Following the Apostles are the first five successors to St. Peter. Then comes Cyprian, the martyr-bishop of Carthage in Africa, the only foreigner in this List of Romans, but a .name venerated in Rome. Rome’s holy deacon, Laurence, marks the transition to the five lay men.

Let us take them in these groups:

1.ST. LINUS: SEPTEMBER 23RD

St. Linus, the immediate successor of St. Peter, was Pope for twelve years. He was an Italian convert of St. Peter, born in Volterra, an ancient city of Tuscany, and was consecrated an auxiliary bishop to St. Peter. Under the Emperor Claudius all Jews were banished from Rome in 49 A.D. St. Linus, who was an Italian and therefore not included in the banishment, ruled the See of Rome until St. Peter returned.

St. Linus was beheaded by Saturninus the Consul about the year 78. He was buried on the Vatican hill close to the grave of St. Peter.

2. ST. CLETUS: APRIL 26TH

St. Cletus succeeded St. Linus and became the third Pope. He was martyred about 90 A.D.

If the interesting tradition that Cletus was a slave is true, it indicates that the Church’s teaching on the spiritual equality of all men, be they bond or free, was put into practice within the first century of her history.

3. ST. CLEMENT: NOVEMBER 23RD

St. Clement was the fourth Pope, reigning from 90 to 100 A.D.

He is the Clement mentioned by St. Paul:

“And I entreat thee also, my sincere companion, help those women who have laboured with me in the Gospel, with

Clement, and the rest of my fellowlabourers, whose names are in the book of life.” (Philip. IV. 5).

St. Clement’s Epistle to the Church of Corinth is an important his torical document. St. Irenaeus writes of St. Clement: “This man, as he had seen the Apostles and conferred with them, might be said to have the preaching of the Apostles still in his ears and their traditions before his eyes.”

He was banished by the Emperor Trajan to the Crimea, where his apostolate among the Christian slaves working in the marble quarries merited for him a martyr’s crown. An anchor was fastened to his neck and he was cast into the sea. His bones were brought to Rome where they lie today in the basilica of San Clemente, one ofRome’s most interesting churches. There are three distinct buildings one over the other, of which the lowest is believed to be the house in which St. Clement lived. San Clemente is in charge of the Irish Dominicans.

4. ST. XYSTUS: AUGUST 6TH

St. Xystus (the Greek form of Sixtus) was a Greek, who became Pope in 257, during the severe persecution of Valerian. St. Xystus was arrested while preaching in the catacombs and was dragged through the streets of Rome. On the way he met Laurence, one of his deacons, who claimed the right to join his master, but the Pope refused, promising him something much worse, and that promise was fulfilled three days later, when Laurence suffered atrocious torture before death brought relief. St. Xystus was beheaded in the catacomb of Praetextatus near the Appian Way, where there stands today a very ancient church in his honour.

His reign as Pope was a brief one, just a year, for his death occurred in 258 A.D.

5. ST. CORNELIUS: SEPTEMBER 16TH

St. Cornelius was a Roman, who became Pope for one year. He was banished from Rome by the Emperor Gallus, and suffered martyrdom under the Emperor Volusian.

His pontificate was remarkable for the Roman Council of sixty bishops, which he assembled to examine and condemn the first antipope, Novatian. According to Novatian, those who were weak enough to sacrifice to idols, or to purchase certificates which stated they had done so, during the terror of the persecution, could never be absolved by the Church.

Pope St. Cornelius condemned this harsh doctrine.

AN AFRICAN BISHOP

ST. CYPRIAN: SEPTEMBER 16TH

After the five martyred Popes comes an African Bishop, St. Cyprian, Bishop of Carthage. He was of distinguished rank, rich and talented, a man of letters, winning fame in Carthage as a barrister. Converted to Christianity about the year 246, Cyprian distributed his great wealth among the poor, made a vow of perpetual chastity, and devoted his life to prayer and study. Ordained a priest, he was promoted to the See of Carthage, over which he ruled for ten years, from 248 to 258, a period of terrible persecutions. In the public square of Carthage he was put to death by the sword on the same day as his friend, Pope St. Cornelius, had been six years before. Their joint feast is on September 16th.

St. Cyprian is one of the noblest characters of Christian antiquity. He was one of the earliest of the great Christian writers to use Latin in his many epistles and treatises. He had a long controversy with Pope Stephen on the question of heretical baptism, whose validity he attacked with arguments which built too confidently on the images he employed. Pope Stephen held by the traditional practice of the Church at Rome. The dispute threatened to lead to a schism when the death of Pope Stephen ended it. It is pleasant to see that St. Cyprian, in spite of his mistake about heretical baptism, and his long controversy with the Pope, has always been so honoured by the Apostolic See, that he is the one foreigner here among her local saints.

His friendship with Pope Cornelius is apparent in a letter congratulating the Pope on his banishment and foretelling the approaching martyrdom of both of them.

“Let us agree,,” he writes, “in remembering each other at this time of peril, and whichever of us shall first be favoured by Our Lord with a removal hence, let our affection still persevere before the Lord for our brethren in neverceasing prayers for them.”

At his execution the valiant Bishop begged twenty-five gold pieces from his friends for his executioner. Walking to the place of execution in Carthage wearing a linen tunic, he bandaged his own eyes, and thanked God for his approaching death.

ROME”S ARCHDEACON

ST. LAURENCE: AUGUST 10TH

St. Laurence, believed to be a Spaniard, was ordained deacon by Pope Xystus and made the first of the seven deacons, and therefore the Archdeacon of Rome. His office was the important one of administration of the moneys of the Church.

As Pope Xystus was being dragged through the streets of Rome, Laurence meeting him, said reproachfully: “Whither goest thou, 0 Father, without thy son? Whither, 0 priest of God, without thy deacon?”

And the saintly Pope replied:

“I am not forsaking thee, my son, a nobler conflict awaits thee. In three days thou shalt follow me.”

During those three days the Archdeacon hastened through the poorest parts of Rome distributing the goods of the Church to the needy. Arrested by the prefect of the city he was commanded to deliver up the treasures of the Church. Laurence assembled the poor of Rome, and presented them to the prefect as the treasures of the Church. The prefect was enraged at this and determined to pay him back. All through the night Laurence was tormented. He was scourged, struck with leaden balls, stretched on the rack, burned with hot metal plates. But nothing could break his indomitable spirit. To his tormentors he exclaimed:

“For me this night has no darkness, but breaks forth into the bright of day.”

Exasperated, his executioners placed him on a gridiron to roast him slowly over a fire. The saint bore this terrible torture, even jested, telling his tormentors that one side was sufficiently roasted, and that they should turn him over. As his flesh sizzled over the fire the martyr prayed:

“On the gridiron I have not denied Thee, my God.

Over the fire I have confessed Thee, my Saviour.

Thou hast tried and examined my heart in the night.

Thou hast proved me by fire and found no falsehood in me.

My soul adhered to Thee, whilst my flesh burned for Thee.”

St. Laurence is Rome’s proud boast; there his feast-day, on August 10th, has been celebrated since the 4th century. The Basilica of St. Laurence Outside the Walls was built by Constantine over his grave. It ranks fifth of the churches of Rome, one of the five basilicas where the Pope alone says Mass on the high-altar, to show his jurisdiction over all.

This ends the list of ecclesiastical martyrs, and now come five laymen.

FIVE MARTYRED LAYMEN

ST. CHRYSOGONUS: NOVEMBER 24TH

St. Chrysogonus was a Greek, but spent his life in Rome. There is some evidence that he was the instructor of St. Anastasia, and befriended her when persecution struck her. During the reign of Diocletian he was imprisoned for two years, and then beheaded. His body was cast into the sea, but was afterwards recovered and buried at Zara in Dalmatia, where his relics are still venerated.

A portion of his head is preserved in the church of Chrysogonus in Rome. He is held in great veneration by the Romans and by the Greeks, who call him “the great martyr.”

SAINTS JOHN AND PAUL; JUNE 28TH

John and Paul were brothers. They were distinguished officers in the Roman army during the reign of Julian the Apostate, and were well liked in Rome where they were known as “men of mercy” for their charity. Julian, discovering that they were Christians gave them ten days to retract and offer sacrifice to Jove. The brothers spent the ten days distributing all their goods to the poor, but refused to offer sacrifice. Terentianus, the Roman prefect, had them beheaded in their own home and secretly buried, because he feared the people. He then spread the report that they had been sent into exile. They were martyred on June 26th, in the year 362.

The Roman church of Saints John and Paul, in which their relics lie under the high altar, is said to have been built on the site of their home. The Church of Saints John and Paul is served by the Passionists.

SAINTS COSMAS AND DAMIAN: SEPTEMBER 27TH

Cosmas and Damian, brothers from a distinguished family in Arabia, were physicians who never accepted fees, and were known in Rome as “the holy moneyless workers,” “the silverless physicians.” Their learning, their skill in healing, and their devout life gained for the Christian religion many converts. They were arrested during the persecution of Diocletian, tortured by fire, water and the cross, and finally beheaded, probably in the year 287. The great Dominican artist, Fra Angelico, has painted scenes from the lives of these two martyred physicians, which may be seen in Florence.

In their Basilica the mosaics are the richest in Rome. The most ancient monument in their honour is an oratory adjacent to St. Mary Major, which was dedicated to them in the fifth century by Pope Symmachus.

CHAPTER II

THE “NOBIS QUOQUE PECCATORIBUS” LIST OF MARTYRS

The second prayer of remembrance after the Consecration commemorates by name fifteen martyrs with the petition that we shall be granted “some part and fellowship with Thy holy Apostles and martyrs.” At the head of the list is St. John the Baptist, then come seven men and seven women martyrs, whose memory Rome has honoured from the early centuries of the Church. Graphically the arrangement of the names might be shown thus 1 + 7 + 7.

THE “NOBIS QUOQUE PEECATORIBUS” PRAYER

“And to us sinners also, Thy servants, hoping in the multitude of Thy mercies, v ouchsafe to grant some part and fellowship with Thy holy apostles and martyrs:

ST. JOHN THE BAPTIST IS FIRST

“with John,

SEVEN MEN MARTYRS

“STEPHEN, MATTHIAS, BARNABAS, IGNATIUS, ALEXANDER, MARCELLINUS, PETER, SEVEN WOMEN MARTYRS

“Felicitas, Perpetua, Agatha, Lucy, Agnes, Cecilia, Anastasia, and with all Thy saints, into whose company admit us, we beseech Thee not considering our merits but pardoning our offences. Through Christ our Lord.”

COMMENTARY

ST. JOHN THE BAPTIST: 24TH JUNE AND 29TH AUGUST

St. John the Baptist was the son of Zachary, a High Priest of the Temple, and of St. Elizabeth, who was a cousin of

Our Lady (Cf. Luke I. 5–25). At an early age he retired to the desert to prepare himself for his mission as Precursor, that is, forerunner of Christ. He ate no bread, drank no wine, and spent the days in prayer and penance.

In the Advent Masses we see him silhouetted against the Arabian sky, a gaunt ascetic figure in a camel’s skin and leather girdle with staff in hand as he comes from the desert into all Judea, and the country about the Jordan, preaching the baptism of penance:

“Prepare ye the way of the Lord, make straight his paths.” (Luke III. 4).

One of the first incidents of Our Lord’s public life was His baptism by St. John in the Jordan, when a voice from

Heaven proclaimed the divinity of Christ:

“This is my beloved son, in whom I am well pleased.” (St. Matt. III. 17). His mission is now accomplished and the

“voice of one crying in the wilderness” is silent. In his own Words he explains his life:

“He that hath the bride is the bridegroom. The friend of the bridegroom stands by and listens to him speak, and rejoices to hear his voice. The joy is mine in its fullness. He must increase, I must decrease.” (St. John III. 29–30). What an inspiring ideal for us all! That He should increase with. in us, and we ourselves, with all our selfishness and pride, should decrease more and more each year so that there would be more room for Him within our hearts. Nothing remains for the Baptist except to crown his life with the laurels of martyrdom.

St. Matthew narrates as follows:

“For Herod had apprehended John and bound him, and put hint in to prison, because of Herodias, his brother’s wife. For John said to him: It is not lawful for thee to have her.

And having a mind to put him to death, he feared the people; because they esteemed him a great prophet. But on

Herod’s birthday, the daughter of Herodias danced before them; and pleased Herod. Whereupon he promised with an oath, to give her whatsoever she would ask of him. But she being instructed before by her mother, said: Give me here in a dish the head of John the Baptist. And the king was struck sad: yet because of his oath, and for them that sat with him at table, he commanded it to be given.

And he sent, and beheaded John in the prison.

And his head was brought in a dish: and it was given to the damsel, and she brought it to her mother.” (St. Matt.

XIV. 3.11).

June 24th is the feast of the Nativity of St. John the Baptist.

August 29th commemorates his beheading.

SEVEN MEN MARTYRS

ST. STEPHEN: DECEMBER 26TH

St. Stephen leads the splendid host of Christian martyrs. He was one of the first seven deacons ordained by the Apostles to administerthe funds of the Infant Church among the poor. St. Luke describes Stephen as “a man full of faith—full of grace and fortitude, did great wonders and signs among the people.” (Acts VI. 8). But there were some jealous of his influence who bribed witnesses to swear falsely against him. Stephen did not temporize even though he felt that the Council was hardening against him. He reviewed the history of the Jewish people and incensed his hearers by accusing the Jews as murderers of the Just One. They rushed at him and in their anger they ran him outside the city, where picking up stones they beat him to death. Stephen continued to pray for those who were stoning him.

“And the witnesses laid down their garments at the feet of a young man whose name was Saul.” (Acts VII. 57). The grace of Christ for which Stephen prayed with his dying voice made that young man St. Paul.

ST. MATTHIAS: FEBRUARY 24TH

St. Matthias was chosen to fill the place of Judas.

St. Matthias preached the faith in Cappadocia and around the Caspian Sea. He was beheaded with an axe in Colchis.

His head is preserved in the Church of St. Mary Major in Rome.

The Lord Himself showed that St. Matthias was the one to be chosen to join the eleven Apostles. (Cf. Epistle of his

Mass).

ST. BARNABAS: JUNE 11TH

St. Barnabas had the honour of being a member of that band of seventy-two disciples sent out to seek souls. A native of the island of Cyprus, he sold all his land and brought the money and laid it at the feet of the Apostles. (Acts IV. 37). He was elected an Apostle and surnamed Barnabas, which means, “the son of consolation,” as a compliment to his gift of speaking. It was Barnabas who led Paul to the Apostles and convinced them of his sincerity. Barnabas accompanied St. Paul in his missionary journeys, and his name is frequently mentioned in the Acts. (Cf. IX, XII, XIII, XIV). He was present at the Council of Jerusalem in 49. (Acts XV. 4).

In his native Cyprus his apostolate was crowned with martyrdom during the reign of Nero. He was buried with a copy of the Gospel of St. Matthew, which he had copied with his own hand.

ST. IGNATIUS OF ANTIOCH: FEBRUARY 1ST

St. Ignatius, Bishop of Antioch for nearly forty years, was a pupil of the Apostles. Taken captive during the Trajan persecution, orders were given that he be sent immediately to Rome so that he would arrive there in time for the wild beast shows. On that journey to Rome he wrote seven letters which are highly prized. The Christians flocked around this grand old man, turning his journey into a triumphal progress.

At Rome the Christians knew of his coming and plans were made to rescue him before he reached the city. Ignatius heard of this and wrote to them pleading to let things be. Here are some of the glorious words he wrote to the Christians in Rome (he wrote them at night while his jailers slept, wrote them while he knew that every day he was drawing nearer to the arena where the wild beasts awaited him):

“If you keep silence about me, I shall become a word of God, but if you love my flesh too much I shall again be a mere sound. Only allow me to be offered as a libation to God while the altar is still prepared. I am God’s wheat and am to be ground by the beasts” teeth to become the spotless bread of Christ.” (These words form the Communion in the proper of the Mass for St. Ignatius on February 1st).

“Agree with me. I know what is good for me. Now I begin to be a disciple. My birthday is at hand. Suffer me to come to the pure light. When I reach it I shall be man indeed. Permit me to imitate the passion of my God. If any man hears Him in himself he surely will understand my desire and sympathize with me.-”Fleshly love had been crucified in me and there is no longer fire of love for material things, but only a living water that speaks to me within my soul.”

Speaking of the Blessed Eucharist which he calls “the medicine of immortality,” he says:

“I desire the bread of God, which is the Flesh of Jesus Christ, and for drink, His Blood, which is incorruptible charity.”

On December 20th in the year 107, the last day of the wild beast shows, Ignatius was thrown to the hungry lions in the Flavian amphitheatre. The animals tore and ate his body so that only the large bones remained. Those bones now await the last day in the Church of San Clemente, Rome.

What a heroic soul! Everything human in Ignatius of Antioch must have shuddered and shivered at the image of that arena upon which he will stand defenceless as the gates are raised to release the growling, savage, hungry animals upon him. The Christians everywhere along the route from Antioch to Rome were strengthened by the faith of Ignatius. And what was the source of that heroism? He tells us that it was the Blessed Eucharist.

Whenever we are asked to accept a cross, a sickness, a humiliation, or perhaps, some failure which hurts our pride, let us come to Mass with this martyred bishop, and seek courage where he found it.

ST. ALEXANDER: MAY 3RD

St. Alexander became Pope in the year 109. He made many converts in Rome. In 119, St. Alexander, with two priest companions, St. Eventius and St. Theodulus, was beheaded on the Via Nomentana under the Emperor Hadrian. There is a tradition that he was a son of St. Felicitas, the heroic mother who was martyred with her seven sons in Rome in the middle of the second century.

His relics and those of his companions now rest in the Church of St. Sabina in Rome.

St. Alexander prescribed water to be mixed with wine at Mass on account of the blood and water that flowed from the side of Jesus. Whenever we say the prayer on the mingling of water with wine let us ask St. Alexander to teach us what it means.

SAINTS MARCELLINUS AND PETER: JUNE 2ND

St. Marcellinus was a priest. St. Peter was an “exorcist,” that means that he had received the second of the minor Orders, or steps to the priesthood. They were both arrested. Peter exorcised an evil spirit out of the daughter of the jailer, Artemius, and in gratitude the whole family were converted and baptized by Marcellinus. Hearing this, the judge, Serenus, sent for the saints and commanded them to renounce Christ. On their refusal they were put into separate cells, without light, without food, and the floor was strewn with broken glass. But this did not break them so they were led secretly into the Black Forest in order that their burial place might be hidden from the Christians. They were ordered to dig their own graves, which they cheerfully did, and then they were beheaded. Their relics were discovered by the Christians who gathered up the bones and brought them to the Catacombs. The wood was afterwards called the White Forest.

Their bones were moved about from place to place until the Secretary of Charlemagne enshrined them in silver at Selingenstadt in Germany. There today they rest within a magnificent church built in their honour.

They suffered martyrdom under the emperor Diocletian, during the tenth persecution, about the year 303.

SEVEN WOMEN MARTYRS

SAINTS FELICITAS AND PERPETUA: MARCH 6TH

These two young women suffered death for the faith in the Ampitheatre at Carthage during the fifth persecution of Christians. Septimus Severus was emperor.

Perpetua was of noble birth. Felicitas was a slave, and not yet baptized. Both were married. Perpetua had an infant eight months old. Felicitas gave birth to a child while in prison. The father of Perpetua, a wealthy pagan, frequently visited his daughter in prison, promising her everything his wealth could buy, if she would only be sensible, and sacrifice to the gods. Her reply was to cheer up her prison companions. In the Acts of St. Perpetua, part of which is autobiographical, and part written by an eye-witness, we have detailed accounts of the prison life, and of the martyrdom.

Perpetua and Felicitas, with three companions, were first scourged, then a boar, a bear, and a leopard were set at the men, and a fierce cow at the women. Gored by the wild animals, they gave each other the kiss of peace and were put to the sword. The year was 203.

When the judge told them that they were to be thrown to the wild beasts, Perpetua, Felicitas, and their three companions began to sing with joy, that at such a price were they to purchase heaven. To accept crosses cheerfully, and to impose penances joyfully are never easy, but that is the spirit we must seek in our Masses, so that we may attain to that “perpetual felicity,” which the names of these two saints suggest.

ST. AGATHA: FEBURARY 5TH

Two cities of Sicily, Palermo and Catania, contest the honour of her birthplace. She was of noble parentage. Endowed with remarkable beauty, she had to resist the solicitations of the Consul Quintianus, who, unable to attain his end by persuasion, threw her into prison. Her breast was torn by his order, but was healed the following night by the apostle St. Peter, who appeared to her in prison. In the proper of her Mass, the Communion commemorates that miracle:

“I invoke Him the living God, who vouchsafed to cure me of every wound, and to restore my breast to my body.” The obvious miracle did not impress Quintianus, who could not understand why she continued to remain a

Christian, for proud Rome considered the Christians as little better than slaves.

“I AM THE SERVANTOF CHRIST,” SHE REPLIED TO HER DISAPPOINTED SUITOR. “THE SOVEREIGN NOBLENESS IS TO BE THE SLAVE OF

Christ.”

He had her body rolled on pieces of broken pottery and on burning coals, and on being brought back to her cell she expired. This happened at Catania, in 251, during the seventh persecution. Decius was the Roman Emperor. One year after her death the neighbouring volcano, Mt. Etna, erupted, and a river of burning lava moved towards

Catania. Rushing to her tomb, the people of Catania seized her virginal veil, which was not burned, only crimsoned by the fire which had caused her death, and holding it up before the oncoming stream, changed its course to the ocean and the city was saved. This happened on February 5th, her feast day.

Let us invoke St. Agatha to preserve our homes from fire, and to extinguish within our bodies the impure flames of sensuality.

ST. LUCY: DECEMBER 13TH

St. Lucy was born at Syracuse, in Sicily, of wealthy parents. Her mother became ill and St. Lucy made a pilgrimage to the tomb of St. Agatha, who had lived in Sicily fifty-two years before her. Her mother was cured. In gratitude St Lucy sold her ornaments, her personal property, and distributed the proceeds among the poor.

During the tenth persecution she was imprisoned as a Christian. Commanded to offer sacrifice to the gods, she refused, saying to her judge, Paschasius: “Pure hearts are the temples of the Holy Ghost.” Her accusers tried to drag her to a house of ill-fame, but she was rooted to the ground like a pillar, and to move her they failed.

In the Gradual of her Mass we pray:

“Thy God hath anointed thee with the oil of gladness.”

The “oil” gave St. Lucy suppleness and strength of soul which enabled her to face death rather than yield the treasure of her virginity.

Tradition says that her eyes were put out by her torturers before her death. The name, Lucy, means light, and it is probably on this account that her intercession is invoked by those with eye trouble.

She was martyred at Syracuse, in Sicily, about the year 304 during the reign of Diocletian as Roman Emperor.

ST. AGNES: JANUARY 21ST

St. Agnes, a singularly beautiful character, was a daughter of one of Rome’s noblest families. Her hand in marriage was sought by the son of the prefect of Rome. She was imprisoned, and her virginity assailed by every means that might shake her resolution. A youth who attempted to do her violence was struck dead, but through her prayers was restored to life. To her many suitors she spoke:

“Already hath another Lover taken poss ession of my heart, who far surpasseth thee in nobility; with unrivalled treasures He hath enriched me. His appearance the most beautiful, His love the sweetest. The angels serve Him. Sun and moon admire His beauty. By the perfume of virtue that exhales from His person the-dead are awakened, by His touch the sick are healed. He hath prepared for me His bridal-chamber, where music and song resound. For Him I preserve fidelity, to Him I give myself entirely and without reserve.”

St. Agnes is a special patroness of holy purity. To the present day, so great is the reverence of her name in Rome, that maidens cherish her example as if she were still dwelling among them. The name Agnes means “chaste” in Greek, and “lamb” in Latin. “She went to her place of execution,” writes St. Ambrose of her, “more gladly than others to their wedding feast.”

At the age of thirteen, about the year 304, this youthful martyr suffered torture and was beheaded. The executioner hesitated to bring his axe down on so young and so beautiful a head. Agnes encouraged him, saying: “Strike without fear for the bride does her spouse an injury if she makes him wait.”

Over her tomb, in the Via Nomentana, is one of the best known of Roman basilicas: St. Agnes Outside the Walls. There on January 21st each year during the singing of the Agnus Dei at High Mass, two white lambs are placed upon the altar to be blessed by the Abbot General of the Canons Regular of Lateran. They are then brought to the Vatican where the Pope blesses them again. They are handed over to the Benedictine nuns attached to the basilica of St. Agnes who rear them till Good Friday, and weave from their wool the pallium, the insignia of an Archbishop. Archbishops, on more solemn occasions, wear around their necks this narrow band of white wool in remembrance of the youthful saint who was deemed worthy to imitate the innocent Lamb of God.

ST. CECILIA: NOVEMBER 22ND

Cecilia was born at Rome of the illustrious family of the Coecilii. As a child she consecrated her virginity to God. Forced by her parents to marry Valerian, a pagan youth, she said to him on their wedding day: “Valerian, I am placed under the guardianship of an angel who protects my virginity.” She pleaded with him so successfully that Valerian promised to become a Christian, were he allowed to see this angel. Cecilia assured him that this was impossible unless he was first baptized, and sent him to Pope Urban, who lived hidden in the Catacombs on account of the persecutions. Urban baptized him. On his return he saw an angel brilliant with a bright light standing beside Cecilia. Doubtful whether he saw aright, he sent for his brother, Tiburtius, who also saw the heavenly visitor. He also was baptized. Shortly after this Valerian and Tiburtius were denounced as Christians and put to death.

Almachius, the prefect of Rome, arrested Cecilia, and hoping to make an example of this daughter of a senatorial family, ordered her to be suffocated in the Roman bath in her own home. Although the baths were specially heated she came through the terrible ordeal unharmed, singing right through the night and day the praises of the Lord. The prefect sent the executioner who struck her three times and failed to sever the head from her body. Cecilia lived three days, during which the Christians came out of their hiding-holes to visit her, while she sang and prayed with them in sheer delight, giving them great consolation and new courage. She ordered that her magnificent mansion should serve as a Church. On the third day she died in her own home. The probable date of her death was about the year 117, during the persecution under Marcus Aurelius. She died in a reclining posture, and thus was laid in a cypress coffin which the faithful buried in the catacombs of St. Callistus.

In 1599 her body was discovered just as it was at her death, in a state of perfect preservation. The people of Rome were permitted to come in crowds to venerate the body. Stefano Maderno sculptured a reproduction of the reclining body, which is one of the glories of Rome, and may be seen under the High Altar of her Church.

The inscription of the artist reads:

“Behold the body of the most holy virgin Cecilia, which I myself saw lying incorrupt in her tomb. I have in this marble expressed for thee the very same saint in the verysame posture of body.”

St. Cecilia is the patroness of Church music. In her office the Church says:

“To the sound of musical instruments the virgin Cecilia sang to God in her heart.” In her “Acts” we read that she sang continuously the praises of God.

What a song of joy the three must have sung as Valerian and Tiburtius, the fruits of her pledging, greeted her soul in Heaven. When we sing during Mass let us remember that St. Cecilia and her companions are singing with us.

ST. ANASTASIA: DECEMBER 25TH

On Christmas day, in the year 304, Anastasia, a widow, was visiting the faithful on an errand of mercy, on the island of Palmaria, when she was captured and put to death during the persecution under Diocletian. While her pagan husband, Publius, lived, she suffered many cruelties. At his death she gave herself to works of mercy. Tradition holds that her tutor in the faith was St. Chrysogonus, who is mentioned in the first list of martyrs, the “Communicantes” list.

The Mass at dawn on Christmas day was said by the Popes in the very old Church of St. Anastasia, situated in the centre of Rome in the patrician quarters, and consequently, the Church of the great court functions. It is a gracious tribute to her that her name, which means “resurrection,” should be commemorated in the second Mass on Christmas day, which is said at dawn in Rome.

Imprimatur,

@ D. MANNIX,

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis.

NihiI Obstat,

PERCY JONES, Diocesan Censor.

5th October, 1958 ********

The Sanity of Catholicism

REV. ALBERT POWER, S. J

INDEX

PART I. -CATHOLICISM APPEALS TO REASON

Our object in this paper is to show that Catholicism is a sane and sensible religious system. We propose to prove the sanity of Catholicism by showing:

First, that it appeals to the intellect and is founded, not on mere sentiment or conjecture, or blind prejudice, but upon the rock of reason.

Secondly, that it provides suitable and effective means to enable the individual to deal with the problems and difficulties of life; that is, it provides a practical working system whereby each one can, with reasonable diligence, save his soul from the contamination of sin, lead a pure, honest, upright life, and thus secure his eternal salvation.

I assert, then, in the first place, that Catholicism is sane, because it appeals to man’s intellect and is founded on reason, and does not shrink from or fear the closest critical or scientific investigation.

First let us consider the act of faith, which lies at the root of Catholicism. An act of faith is, in the Catholic sense, an act of reason, an assent on adequate grounds to certain intellectual propositions. Outsiders constantly misunderstand and frequently misrepresent the Catholic act of faith. Hence, to avoid confusion, I will treat the matter in two ways.

First.- I will try to tell you what faith is not.

Second.-Then I will try to explain more fully what it actually is, and to show you how reasonable it is, and how it benefits a sane man to make acts of faith.

(1) First, then, a Catholic act of faith is not mere credulity or a blind acceptance of the marvellous without reasonable grounds. Non-Catholics often credit Catholics with this kind of thing; they imagine Catholics to be folk gaping openmouthed for any strange story to swallow it down whole.

(2) Nor is faith mere sentimentalism-i.e., accepting things as true because they give you a comfortable feeling. The Catholic, in believing, is not guided by emotion, but by conviction.

(3) Nor, again, does Catholicism appeal, as the Modernists did, to a special sort of instinct whereby one reaches out after the Supernatural-apart from intellectual conviction. Modernists taught that the department of faith was so distinct from that of science that while by faith you believe the Resurrection of Christ to be true, scientifically you might deny its truth; and so with other Christian dogmas. If we Catholics taught that kind of thing we could hardly claim that ours is a sane religious system.

Hence, I repeat, faith is not mere blind superstition, slot sentimentalism, not the functioning elf a special subconscious faculty, whereby the soul grasps the Divine. No I ill the true Catholic sense, faith is conviction. The Catholic says, “I KNOW.”

WHAT IS FAITH?

Now we come to the positive declaration of what faith really is. Religious faith in the reasonable and Catholic sense is an extension or application to the spiritual world of an ordinary intellectual process which all exercise daily, and without the exercise of which our lives as social beings would be impossible. This process consists in assenting to the truth of propositions on the testimony of others. We may acquire knowledge in two ways-either by direct observation (you see a man knocked down by a motor car in the street), or through the testimony of others (you read an account of the accident in the evening paper, or learn it from a friend). The last intellectual operation, whereby we assent to the, truth of facts (which are, perhaps, beyond the reach of our own observation) because other men testify to their truth, plays all incessant part in. our lives. It is in this way most of our knowledge tames to us—on the authority of others. If you reflect on the method whereby people as a rule acquire scientific, geographical, historical, philosophical knowledge, or if you think of the part which books and newspapers play in our lives you will, I think, admit the truth of what I say. We each of us investigate a very small portion of the earth’s surface on which we live-namely, the part traversed by the tiny track of our perambulations through life. All the other knowledge we have, of the world-or of the universe-rests on the testimony of others.

NOT UNSCIENTIFIC

Now, who will say that such faith, such willingness to accept testimony, is unscientific, or unworthy of a rational being? Who will suggest that it is not based on sound intellectual principles? It may not be easy for you to trace the process whereby you have come to believe without any doubt in the existence of Jupiter’s satellites, or of icebergs in the Antarctic, or of Hitler or Mussolini. The evidence has come through many almost imperceptible channels, but is such that it excludes all doubt from your mind. If you analyse the process, it comes to this: You convince yourself by direct examination or reasoning of the reliability of the witness; then you accept his testimony as true. Two things must be clear to you about the witness- (I) That he had ample opportunity to learn the facts; (2) that he is telling the truth. In other words, that he is not deceived himself, nor wants to deceive you. In a court of law, the judge and jury must test these two points: Is the witness truthful? Has he knowledge of the facts? Once they are convinced of these two things, then they accept his evidence, and believe his statements to be true.

To a Catholic believer Faith is just this process. It is not conjecture, nor is it credulity. It means assenting to the truth of certain facts on the evidence of a reliable witness, the witness in this case being God Himself. That the facts (e.g., the Trinity, Incarnation, the Real Presence) are beyond our ken and cannot be directly tested by us is no more a difficulty to our accepting them (when the evidence is sufficient) than my inability to investigate directly the murder of Julius Caesar or the execution of Mary Queen of Scots militates against my belief that these two eminent persons met with violent deaths.

STEPS IN THE PROCESS

The steps that lead to Faith are these:

(1) I assure myself by reasoning and argument that God has actually spoken and communicated knowledge to mankind -that He is a witness to men of truth.

(2) I prove that this knowledge is still available foe use, is actually preserved somewhere in the world, is in the keeping of somebody from whom I can obtain it.

(3) I learn the contents of the message, and accept them as God’s revelation, on His authority. This last mental act is the formal act of faith. The other two processes, for the carrying out of which we rely on our own intellectual acumen and activity (aided by God’s grace), are preparatory, and lead up to the formal act of faith.

Suppose you receive a letter from a friend whose word you trust implicitly. A glance at the handwriting and signature assures you that the letter is actually from this friend. You thereby establish its genuineness and authenticity, and even before you read the letter or know its contents you are assured that your friend has sent you a message and that you have his message in your hands. This corresponds to the preparatory stages (the praeambula fidei, as theologians call them), described above. Then you read the letter and learn certain facts, which you accept as true on the authority of your friend.

This corresponds to the formal act of faith.

RENAN’S FOLLY

But there is a point to be insisted upon with regard to the kind of evidence on which we rely when giving our assent to the propositions that lead to faith. Renan said he would not accept religious truth unless it were proved to him with the exactness of a mathematical theorem. Now, that is a foolish way of talking. Life would be impossible if men followed out this principle in the ordinary details of life.

Take a few examples:

You sit down daily to take your food without hesitation or misgiving lest perhaps it be poisoned. When a man comes to breakfast he does not demand of his wife a mathematical proof that she put tea in the pot, not arsenic! How does your wife know it is tea? She trusts the grocer. Does she demand an affidavit to that effect? Yet who will say that we are imprudent or foolish, or that we are risking our lives in drinking a cup of tea without previous scientific investigation into the ingredients of the teapot?

Again, you step into a train or motor car, and place your life at the mercy of an unknown individual -the engine driver or motorman-about whose antecedents and moral character you know nothing. He may be, and usually is, quits a respectable member of society, with a wife and family and other hostages given to fortune, and has no homicidal tendencies that might induce him to increase the pace, dash the train to perdition, and send you to a speedy death. But how do you know all this? Do you think it necessary to accost the engine driver or chauffeur thus:-”My dear friend, I am about to entrust my life to your care for several hours. Hence, I demand your credentials. Prove to me clearly and scientifically that you are a fit person to take charge of me and my fortunes?”

Think what an average engine driver would reply to such a demand -or, perhaps, better not try to think o£ what he would say! You see, of course, the absurdity of such an attitude. But now tell me: why do you trust the engine driver? It is really an act of faith. Is it therefore unreasonable? Is it credulity, or superstition, or sentimentalism? Not a bit of it. You know quite well it is an act of faith founded on excellent sensible reasons, which appeal to the intellect, although the chain of argument by which you arrive at the conclusion that you will trust this grimy gentleman in charge of the locomotive is one which you may find it hard to put into words. And I have little doubt that a clever lawyer could make out a very strong case to prove the extreme folly of ever travelling in a train: the engine driver might go mad, or develop a mania for beating records, and try to hit up the pace of a hundred miles an hour, or he might want to commit suicide by jumping off the train, and leave her to dash on without control, and so on.

DANGER!

To give you an example: I knew an elderly gentleman who never in his life would allow a barber to shave him. He said it was too dangerous to allow a stranger to hold a razor so temptingly near to one’s throat. Yet millions of bearded, sensible men of every race and clime do actually day by day walk into barbers’ shops, submit to the razor, and do not think themselves specially brave for doing so. How would you prove mathematically that they were wise in their action?

Now, I, apply all this to the Catholic faith, and I say the argument for the existence of Divine Revelation, and hence the argument on which my act of faith rests, is not a mathematical but a moral argument; but none the less good, strong, and powerful, and one which a reasonable man will accept, and in accepting which he gives evidence of his sanity and soundness of judgement; just as the ordinary man shows his common sense by relying on the testimony of others in the transactions of daily life.

Of course, it will be understood that at present I am not dealing with the special supernatural co-operation of God, which is essential to every act of faith; whether it be His co-operation with the intellect by way of illumination to make that faculty capable of eliciting this supernatural act of assent; or His inspiration of the will, which moves the intellect to produce its act. This special influence of God on mind and heart constitutes the “gift” of faith. But at present we are considering the matter merely from the side of the human intellect functioning along the lines proper to it, being moved by apprehension of the truth formally to accept or assent to it.

The Catholic Church, then, builds her system on faith; and faith, I repeat, is an intellectual process, founded on intellectual conviction. It is not mere sentiment, not mere conjecture or guesswork, nor blind acceptance of certain catchwords or airy principles, which prove on investigation to rest on sand.

“THE BIBLE ALONE”

Protestantism, on the other hand, is just the opposite of all this. At the Reformation, the “Reformers” called upon the world to reject Catholicism and substitute instead a blind, unreasoning belief in a printed book as the only source and fountain head of Divine Revelation in the world; from which book each man must by private investigation find out what he has to believe. If you demanded (as every sane man has a right to demand), “Why do you want me to accept this book-the Bible-as divine?” there was no reasonable answer forthcoming.

Study Protestant books of theology, old or new, the men who wrote in the sixteenth century or those who wrote in the nineteenth, and you will find either that they never faced that question at all, or else the answer they give is a lame, impotent, unsatisfactory one. For many it comes to this: We know the Bible to be divine, because we feel it to be so when we are reading it.

What a fine criterion this is -the mere subjective impression experienced on reading the Bible! What chance has that system of proof when face to face with modern atheistic principles? Needless to say, it withers away under the fire of attack so that nowadays Protestants have practically abandoned all belief in the inspiration of the Bible in any true sense.

HOW DO WE KNOW?

The Catholic position is absolutely different. As a Catholic I know the Bible to be inspired, because the living organ of truth, the Church, tells me so. Just as in the case of human documents, such as books, we know who wrote those books from the external testimony of others that were in a position to know and to testify to the authorship. I know for certain that Charles Dickens wrote Oliver Twist and Pickwick Papers, because the testimony of his contemporaries assures me of the fact. Of course, once you have a standard to judge by, then internal evidence of style, subject matter, etc., may help you to come to a conclusion as to whether a particular book or writing is or is not the work of a certain author. But internal evidence alone is, as a rule, very uncertain in its findings. Recall the Bacon-Shakespeare controversy, or the endless inconclusive arguments as to the authorship of the Iliad and Odyssey, or of the Letters of Junius, or the Poems of Ossian.

But about the authorship of a vast number of writings, ancient and modern, there is no reasonable doubt whatever—e.g., the works of Aeschylus, Sophocles, and many other Greek writers of Cicero, Lucretius, Livy, Virgil Horace, Tacitus, Juvenal, etc. Why? Because we have definite external, as well as internal, testimony to guide us.

IS IT INSPIRED?

When we come to the Bible, the question at issue is: Is God the author of the Bible-i.e., was God responsible for what is contained in the Bible? Did He so control the human writers of the various books-e.g., the Evangelists, that they wrote what God wished them to write, and only that; so that in a true sense the account therein rests on God’s authority? And I ask you as a reasonable person to tell me what means have we of answering that question? Who can tell us whether God did really inspire the Scriptures or not? I assert confidently the only reasonable solution is this: God Himself must reveal it. God Himself must teach us about the inspiration of Scripture, else we can know nothing whatever about it. Hence, only a divinely-guided, and therefore infallible, witness can assure us that the Bible is God’s word. Hence the Catholic position: “I know the Bible is inspired because the living and divinely-guided organ of truth, the Catholic Church, tells me so.”

That, I say, is a reasonable answer. It is one that appeals to a sane man. Possibly an objection may occur to you that in offering the solution we are involving ourselves in a circle-proving A by B and B by A. As if John Smith were to write a letter of recommendation about himself, stating that he, John Smith, is a truthful, honest, trustworthy man. Such a letter gives John Smith a good character, but then, on what does it rest? On the trustworthiness of John Smith himself. His authority supports the letter, and the letter is the guarantee for his trustworthiness.

Now, in like manner I, as a Catholic, believe the Bible is inspired because the Infallible Church says so; but then, I accept the Church as infallible because the Bible says so! This looks like a vicious circle. I prove the Church from the Bible and the Bible from the Church. To show there is no vicious circle it is only necessary to distinguish two aspects of the Bible record.

NO VICIOUS CIRCLE

We can treat the books of the Bible (let us take the Gospels) as ordinary human literature, and use them as a source of historical truth like any other trustworthy documents. From the evidence of those books critically studded we learn the facts of Christ’s life:—His teaching, the founding of the Church and His promises to that Church. In using the Bible thus we are treating the documents as human productions, and there is no question of divine faith as yet, but of the ordinary, natural exercise of the intellect and of the critical faculty of investigation.

To prove the existence of the Church -to learn what her charter is-we appeal to reason. We try to, get down to the bedrock of historical facts. Others may be satisfied to get their notion of what the Church ought to be from men like Martin Luther or Henry VIII. We Catholics like to go back and find out exactly what it is that Christ Himself wanted His Church to be. And surely this is sane, sound common sense.

But having once historically proved the existence and nature of the Church and convinced yourself that the Church was really intended by her Founder to function as an unerring Teacher of revealed truth, you then turn to that Teaching Authority and ask her about the Gospels. She tells you that these Gospels, besides being trustworthy historical narratives, are inspired by God-which gives them a new value in your eyes, and makes them a mine of spiritual knowledge and refreshment for your soul.

Here there is no vicious circle. I prove the Church from the Gospel, regarded as an ordinary historical record, whose authenticity I examine by the light of reason. Whereas the fact about the Bible which I accept on the Church’s authority is not the natural trustworthiness of the Bible as an historical document (that I prove from reason), but its divine trustworthiness and fecundity and endless riches, as being written under the inspiration of God Himself.

PRIVATE JUDGEMENT

A second principle which (as we said above) was loudly proclaimed by the Reformers as the true source and foundation of religion, is the principle of private judgement-i.e., every man must read the Bible to find out for himself what he ought to believe.

Now, how can you call that a sane and reasonable method of discovering truth, which, as a matter of historical fact, has resulted in the creation of a thousand warring sects, all teaching contradictory doctrines, yet each claiming to have discovered the truth by investigation of the Bible? If a man tells me he has invented a peculiarly reliable method for solving mathematical problems, and if I ask a dozen different people to apply the method to the same problem, and each of them produces a different result and each waves his own particular solution in my face as the only correct and trustworthy answer, what am I to think of the new system? Can I regard it as a safe and reasonable one?

Catholicism, on the other hand, just as it does not demand blind acceptance of the Bible as divine without argument or proof, so neither is it wild or foolish enough to declare that each man must work cut his own religious system from the Bible for himself. This would be as reasonable as saying each man must work out his own astronomical system for himself; must be a Copernicus, a Kepler, a Newton, all rolled into one.

No! Catholicism declares that Christ established a living teacher in the world to, keep fast hold of God’s revelation, and communicate it to successive generations of men.

THE LIVING TEACHER

How do sane men act when they wish to have their children educated-i.e., admitted to the great storehouse of human knowledge? They send them to school—that is, to a living teacher. The wisdom of ages has decided that the best way to preserve and propagate truth is to set up, not merely libraries, where knowledge is locked up in cold storage, but schools, colleges, universities, where active living minds congregate to collect, develop and hand on the wisdom of the world. We look to the living teacher to help us all through life.

The mother sowing the first seeds of knowledge in the mind of her child; the schoolmaster drilling pupils in the rudiments of learning; the university professor lecturing to a cultured audience; Demosthenes kindling the flame of patriotism in the Athenian people; Chatham, Pitt, Fox, Edmund Burke addressing the House of Commons; all the great orators, all the Christian preachers from St. Paul to Lacordaire; all the great tragedians interpreting the world’s poetry- what are they all but so many proofs that mankind demands for the effective preservation and propagation of truth, not books, not mere lifeless monuments, speechless symbols and records, but the living mind the living voice, the living soul, that can kindle in other souls the flame of knowledge blazing within itself ?

Knowledge or truth is not merchandise that can be transferred in bulk as you hoist a bale of goods from a steamer to a railway truck. Truth is a living thing. It must grow in the soul as fruit grows on the tree, and that growth must be promoted by contact of mind with living mind.

God knows all this as well as we do. And when He would teach the world Truth He sent to it, not merely a book, a scroll of mysterious characters for men to puzzle over and extract the truth from, but He sent a Living Mind, the master mind of Jesus of Nazareth. He sent a Living Teacher-a Man palpitating with life in its most intense form-a Man with the most comprehensive intellect ever created, with a grandeur of character, an elevation of soul beyond all that men had ever dreamed of: with a marvellous gift of eloquence, and unrivalled power of persuasion; in short, with every glorious quality required to constitute the Perfect Teacher.

HANDING ON THE TRUTH

How is the work of this Teacher to continue in the world? If Jesus is God, surely the influence of His glorious intellect is not to be ephemeral-is not to pass away after a few years of outward visible presence here on earth. He has come to teach, not one generation, but all generations, for all time to come. That is a wonderful claim-yet Jesus deliberately and solemnly makes that claim.

After He had commanded His disciples to go teach all nations, He makes in one brief pregnant sentence this momentous promise: “Behold I am with you all days, even to the consummation of the world.” “I, the Living Teacher, come from God, am with you teaching My doctrine down all the ages, as men succeed each other upon the stage of time, until the race of man ceases to exist.”

And how does Jesus set about having His teaching work continued in the world? Jesus Christ is the sanest man in all history, and His system will be founded on sanity and common sense. It will not he left hanging in the air without a sure foundation. Has He not Himself uttered a warning about tire importance of building one’s house, not on sand, but on a rock? Hence, we find that He constitutes a Living Organization to perpetuate His doctrines. “Go teach all nations to observe the things I have commanded you.” He does not say: “Tell men to study the Bible privately, each for himself, and then find out what to believe.” He says:

“Go, and teach My doctrine and I promise to be with you in fulfilling this duty. I will send the Holy Ghost to open your minds to understand the truth, so that you can instruct others. As the Father hath sent Me, so I send you.”

The Father had sent Jesus as a Living Teacher to the world; so Jesus sends His Apostles as living teachers to instruct mankind.

THE ETHIOPIAN TRAVELLER

When the servant of Queen Candace (as told in Acts viii.) was riding along in his chariot, reading the Prophet Isaias, and a Philip was miraculously sent to aid him, although the servant was reading the Bible eagerly to get light about God, still he was unable to interpret the prophet until the living teacher came to instruct him; then the light dawned, he believed and was baptized. That scene was a symbol of Catholicism.

You, too, perhaps, are studying the Bible or, perhaps, the “Book of Nature,” eagerly scanning it to get knowledge of the God that made you. But you grope in the dark until you fall under the spell of the living teaching authority of the Catholic Church, then suddenly the shadows lift and all becomes clear.

An honest enquirer who studies the Gospel record must conclude thus: If this Man, Jesus of Nazareth be really a divine teacher sent to enlighten the world, and if His mission is to be perpetuated all through history, then there must be still somewhere in the world today a living teaching authority representing Him, speaking for Him, the heir of His promise, and working under the spell of His presence.

I do not say merely there must be disciples of His in the world, or a school of thought representing Him and propagating

His views -as, for example, schools of philosophy propagate the ideas of Plato, Aristotle, Epicurus, or Kant. No! We say, if the Gospel record be true, there must still survive in the world a living teaching authority, divinely instituted, founded by Christ Himself, safeguarded against error by Him, enjoying all the privileges involved in the splendid promise: “Behold I am with you, all days, even to the consummation of the world.”

WHERE IS IT?

And if our unbiased and thoughtful enquirer, rising up from his perusal of the New Testament, looks round the world to, discover this Teaching Authority he will not have long to search.

One outstanding body, and one alone, claims to be just this-the Living Organ appointed to impart God’s revelation to all mankind. Other Christian sects, while they differ in every imaginable way to doctrine, ceremonies, practices, agree on this one point: of refusing to claim to be a living, authoritative teacher of Divine truth. Whereas the Catholic Church does make the claim, and makes it unhesitatingly, persistently, obstinately, dogmatically, with all the vehemence and intolerance of denial with which a mare will assert his own identity. And for the same reason—viz., the Catholic Church has the interior consciousness of her Divine mission; just as a man has the interior consciousness of his own identity-that he is himself, and no one else.

And this claim is made, not by a small sect in some remote corner of Asia or America, but the Catholic Church, which is the most notorious and conspicuous object in the history of the world. The mere fact that the Catholic Church, and she alone, makes this claim, and has always made this claim, to be the living teacher of Christ’s truth, is prima facie evidence that she is actually what she claims to be—Christ’s divinely-appointed mouthpiece-since it is the first essential of one entrusted with such a mission to be conscious of the responsibility.

But, then, on closer investigation, our enquirer will find this Catholic body, which thus boldly makes this claim, claims also the further prerogative of immunity from error when actually fulfilling her mission as teacher of God’s truth. And the fact that the Catholic Church make; this claim to infallibility will-if the enquirer is a sane and reasonable man-help to confirm his conviction that in the Catholic Church he has found the object of his search.

For I assert it is simply impossible-it is ludicrous-for a body of men to claim Divine authority to teach God’s Revelation without claiming also a divinely guaranteed immunity from error in delivering that teaching.

WHY INFALLIBLE?

In other words, if Christ instituted an organization expressly to preserve and propagate His teachings in the world, He must also have made that body infallible in discharging its functions. And if such a body does not claim the privilege of being infallible, then it has no reasonable right to claim to be God’s mouthpiece for teaching truth. This principle seems almost self-evident. For see what the denial of it leads to. A Church comes to me and states: “I have Christ’s authority to teach His doctrine and to demand from you the submission of faith; still, since I have no guarantee of immunity from error, what I am teaching may perhaps be wrong; yet Christ commands me to teach.” Surely that would be a ludicrous and impossible position to adopt.

The very first quality which we demand from a witness who claims credence for his assertions is that he knows the truth and guarantees that he is telling it. The witness who says: “These are the facts, but yet they may well be all wrong,” is simply laughed at. Yet, strange to say, it is just this reasonable claim on the part of the Church to know what she is talking about and to be quite definitely sure that her message is correct, that provokes the fiercest opposition and resentment on the part of the world.

Now, I hope we have made good the first point in the argument for the Sanity of Catholicism -namely, that Catholicism appeals to reason, makes no claim except on reasonable, verifiable grounds, such as will bear the closest scrutiny on the part of intelligent, unbiased enquirers. Next we will deal with the Sanity of Catholicism as shown in the means it provides for the spiritual welfare of the individual soul.

PART II. -CATHOLICISM AND THE INDIVIDUAL SOUL

To be very practical in one’s methods is a sign of sanity and common sense. Building castles in the air is an occupation which empty-headed, unpractical dreamers are fond of indulging in. To entertain foolish schemes and talk of accomplishing them when adequate means are completely wanting is the mark of an unbalanced mind.

What I wish to insist on is that Catholicism does not merely set before us a high ideal does not appeal merely to the imagination and intellect, as do philosophy, art, literature; does not merely speculate in a graceful, captivating way about life and immortality; but that it takes practical, efficacious steps and supplies definite means to enable men to attain the noble ends it proposes to them.

And first let me draw your attention to what I may call the individualism of the Catholic Church the extraordinary care she lavishes on each individual soul entrusted to her. This case is the logical outcome of Catholicism—of the doctrine so insistently taught by its Founder, Jesus Christ, about the supreme value of each single human soul.

THE SECRET OF THE UNIVERSE

The immortal thinking soul it is that explains all the rest of the visible universe. The whole radiant world of creatures is in God’s design, but the setting for the incomparable jewel of the soul. The material universe is exquisitely, intoxicatingly beautiful-so beautiful that for love of it men forget its Maker. The fascination of the creature blinds them to the infinite perfection of the Creator. When you come to think of it, what is the meaning of such expressions: “Nature is very beautiful: the midnight sky is majestic, solemn, imposing?” In using such expressions we are simply describing the emotions produced in the human soul by the contemplation of those creatures of God. To what purpose would light exist were there no eye to utilize it? What end would the harmony and grandeur of the material universe serve if there were no human soul to appreciate it, and give expression to; feelings of admiration by praise?

The thinking soul is the eye of the universe to contemplate its beauty, the tongue of the universe to proclaim the: glory of Him who made it, the heart of the universe to love Him in return for His benefits.

The soul, then, is the priceless jewel hidden away in this material existence, and to save that jewel from eternal loss the whose aim and object of the Catholic Church. Hence the minute care she bestows on each one of her members From the first moment of the child’s appearance on the bustling stage of life until as an old man he breathes his last sigh and closes his eyes in death, the Catholic Church is busy about his soul. Her Sacraments await him at every stage of his journey to God. Through the gate of Baptism the child becomes a Catholic-receives the freedom of the city of God-becomes a citizen of the Church. By the Sacrament of Confirmation the citizen is enlisted as a soldier to fight in defence of the glorious liberty of the children of God. But citizen, as well as soldier, needs food to support his strength and nourish the new and wonderful life communicated in these Sacraments; so the Church spreads for him the Banquet of the Body of Christ.

These three Sacraments-Baptism, Confirmation, Eucharist-are intended for all, and are to give positive supernatural life to the soul and to nourish that life. But, alas! the soldier may fall wounded on the battlefield, the weapons of the enemy may prevail; he may be lying in danger of death. Every army must have its ambulance corps, its surgeons and remedies; and so the Church hastens with the Sacrament of Penance to help her wounded sons-binds up their hurts, and tenderly nurses them back to life.

MARRIAGE

But then another important crisis may come, and usually does come, when the life of one is to be merged into the life of another, and two souls, through the gate of marriage, enter into a new world of duties and responsibilities; two lives that have hitherto flowed as separate streams are united as one river flowing to the ocean of eternity. Here, too, the Church is waiting, and her Sacrament is ready to bless the union of man and wife-to speed them on their way and supply the special spiritual help they need for the new existence on which they have entered.

Or perhaps a man, instead of being attracted by an earthly bride, dreams rather of walking in the footsteps of Christ—whose Bride was the Church of living souls-and would consecrate his life as a priest to the work of saving mankind. If so, the Church consecrates him for her work with the Sacrament of Holy Orders.

COMFORT IN DEATH

Then there is a final turning in the road which awaits us all-a turning that will open up strange new vistas-when we shall need very special help. That is Death. And for her dying children the Catholic Church is especially solicitous. She is ever on guard, sentry-like, at that dread portal, and with her Last Anointing strengthens the soul for its passage to eternity.

During the Great War, a wonderful impression was created on outsiders by the tender, practical, heroic way in which Catholic priests ministered to the spiritual wants of wounded and dying soldiers on the battlefields and in the hospitals,

Men were struck by the contrast between the attitude and method of the Catholic priest and the methods (or rather want of method) of the clergy of other denominations. And what was it made the difference? Just this—the Catholic priest came with the Catholic Sacraments in his hands: he came to whisper words of Absolution for sin, to feed the soul of the dying man with the Eucharist, to anoint him with the consecrated 0il of Extreme Unction; he came with the gifts of pardon, of spiritual nourishment and of strength. Why was the priest-the official representative of Catholicism-able to do this? Because Catholicism is a sane, practical system which has at its disposal definite means of helping sons in their spiritual needs. The priest kneeling beside the dying soldier on the battlefields of France or Belgium did his work well just because he represented the Universal Church. He spoke to the dying man, not with the lips of a private individual, but with the voice of Christ’s Organ for teaching Truth-he spoke with the lips of Christ Himself.

THE CATHOLIC WAY

Now, I would ask you to consider more in detail the Catholic system of providing for the spiritual welfare of the individual soul, and to note the definite, careful, sensible way in which the Church ministers to the wants of her children. She knows well that to minister to man’s spiritual wants effectively she must supply three things:

Light to satisfy and guide his intellect,

Peace and consolation to satisfy his heart,

Strength and endurance to support his will.

If the Catholic Church cannot supply the necessary nutriment for those three faculties of man, then it is incomplete and ineffective and unjustified in its claims. We shall see that it is just those three good things of Truth, Peace and Strength that this great practical religion offers to, her children-these constitute her merchandise, in which She traffics and invites all to come and receive at her hands. And first, with regard to teaching Truth. Alone of all religious bodies in the world the Catholic Church claims to have a divine mandate to teach revealed Truth. And the practical result of that conviction is the extraordinary interest she takes in the education of her children. Other religious bodies may calmly acquiesce in the control of schools by secular authority; the Catholic Church-never! Catholics may be compelled to pay taxes to support secular schools, but that will not prevent them from imposing fresh taxes on themselves to build Catholic schools where Catholic children may receive proper instruction in the truths of religion, and may be brought up in a thoroughly Catholic atmosphere.

She knows, of course, that thought rules the world. As a man thinks, so he lives. History is only the working out in practice of the ideas that men conceive—just as a building is the result of the architect’s plan. The decay of a nation, like the moral ruin of an individual, is the result of the pursuit of wrong ideas. To regenerate a man the first thing is to get at his thoughts.

Sow a thought, and reap an act.

Sow an act, and reap a habit.

Sow a habit, and reap a destiny.

BUILT ON A ROCK

And so this great mother of souls shoulders the responsibility of teaching these truths, and in her schools, no less than in her churches, keeps ever instilling the divinely-taught lessons which she has been commissioned to teach. She holds the key of Christ’s granaries (as He Himself expressed it), and is ever solicitous to deal out in due tune just measures of wheat to feed hungry souls. Look up at this strong castle, built by Christ to stand four-square to all the storms of impiety and unbelief-to breast unswervingly the flood of paganism which Christ foresaw would beat pitilessly against that great tower. Listen to the Master Builder’s words: “Upon a rock I will build My Church: and all the fury of hell shall not prevail to tear down those strong walls-because they are-by Me-founded upon a rock.”

Look out across the world today, and see how literally that prophecy is fulfilled. Apart from Catholicism, the lamentable decay of religious belief is bringing about, with startling rapidity, the state of things foreseen and foretold by Newman and others, when the world will be divided into two hostile camps: the forces of Atheism (of unbelief and denial of God) on one side, the adherents of Catholicism on the other.

To illustrate this, let me give you a few details about one small but important portion of the English-speaking world—Great Britain. According to recent statistics the population of Great Britain (i.e., England and Scotland) is about 40 millions. Of these, about four millions are Catholics. Of the remaining 36 millions it is calculated that not more than ten millions attend a place of Christian worship, or can be called in any sense adherents of Christianity. Making allowance for about 150,000 Jews and leaving a wide margin for other sects, there remains a mass of some 25 millions of people of whom the only thing we can say is that they are, to all intents and purposes, pagans.

Surrounded by this surging sea of unbelief, is it any wonder that the Catholic Church is so terribly insistent on the duty of safeguarding her children’s faith by securing their education in a Catholic atmosphere? And surely this insistence is as much a mark of her sanity and robust common sense as it is for men in time of plague or pestilence to adopt vigorous means to secure themselves against contagion.

A PRACTICAL SYSTEM

In order to appreciate better the reasonableness of Catholicism, I will now ask you to consider the wonderful method in which the Catholic Church brings home to the heart and mind and conscience to each of her children the great fundamental truths which lie at the basis of all true happiness, whether for time or eternity. These truths are:

First, the existence of a personal God, our Creator and Master.

Secondly, the freedom and responsibility of the will.

Thirdly, the immortality of the human soul.

Atheism, Materialism, Agnosticism mean the denial or calling in question of these three truths, and hence the undermining of the foundation on which true happiness in this world and in the next must rest. Catholicism proclaims these truths-champions them inexorably in the face of a protesting world; but she does more than this-she adopts measures to bring them home in a living, practical way to the individual soul.

THE EXISTENCE OF GOD

“God exists-He is your Creator-you are bound to worship Him; and therefore I require you to hear Mass every Sunday in order to fulfil this duty.”

So speaks the Church. Every Sunday all your life long, from the age of seven years until you die (unless prevented by good reasons), you must come to church to fulfil the duty of adoring your Maker. You see how in this simple, practical way the fundamental duty of adoring God is brought home to the individual Catholic. To the Protestant, going to church is a matter of choice-the Catholic Church insists upon this weekly act of homage as a grave duty.

And then think of the infinite difference between what awaits the Catholic when he goes to Mass and the service which the non-Catholic has to look forward to when he goes to church. The Catholic goes in order to offer up with the priest the Sacrifice of Christ’s Body and Blood. To the Catholic, entering his church means entering the audience chamber of the great King, where Jesus Christ is actually present. Hence the atmosphere of reverent silence, of prayer, of adoration which normally prevails during the time of Mass, and especially at the moment of Consecration.

Even the most careless Catholic must be affected by fulfilling this weekly duty of worship. But in the case of the Catholic who hears Mass devoutly, who prays earnestly and fervently during the Holy Sacrifice, a very wonderful influence is exercised; his soul is fed with heavenly food to sustain and strengthen him against the inroads of the deadly, insidious, poisonous germs of infidelity and immorality with which the air all round him is so heavily laden.

FREEDOM AND RESPONSIBILITY

The second great fundamental truth insistently taught by Catholicism is the freedom of the will and the moral responsibility of each individual for his own acts; and hence the nature and consequences of sin. But again Catholicism is not satisfied with merely telling you that you have free will, and are responsible to God for your actions and words and thoughts; but it says to you, “You must go to Confession. You must tell your sins, and make an act of contrition, and get absolution from the priest.”

Now, I want you to think a little about the sane and practical nature of this great institution of the Sacrament of Penance, or Confession. The Church is here to help us in our difficulties. What is the supreme difficulty which each child of Adam has to contend with on the road of life? What is the great obstacle that bars his path to God, to overcome which he is in sad need of supernatural assistance? History and our own experience tell us; it is sin. The weakness of our nature, the lower, earthward tendency in us, drag us away from God and the higher things of the spirit. What do we require to lift us up?

First and foremost, to be cleansed from sin, to be assured of pardon for past sin; and then a strengthening of the spiritual element within us to enable us to control passion and avoid sin for the future. These things are provided for in he Catholic system by the Sacrament of Penance.

This Sacrament has two aspects, the one painful and humiliating, the other comforting, strengthening, elevating. Confession of one’s sins to a priest is often a painful and penitential ordeal, which we naturally shrink from; but then the assurance of pardon given by the priest as God’s representative brings peace and joy to the soul which only those can understand who have actually felt it.

Confession is sometimes a stumbling-block in the way of would-be converts. To kneel down and say, “I have sinned- I have violated God’s law in this or that particular way, is hurtful to our pride. The difficulty men find in telling their sins is strong testimony to the sense of shame for having committed sin which is deeply rooted in the human heart. We have offended God, the Giver of the law; we know it, and yet we can hardly bring ourselves to admit the fact to a fellow creature. And this painful duty of Confession is, of all others, the most salutary to make us rise up from sin and to deter us from committing new sins. It is like the surgeon’s knife; it is sharp, it cuts deep; but it pains only to heal: it wounds to give relief.

THE GREAT DISASTER

When in the sixteenth century certain innovators set about “reforming” the Church, they very quickly got rid of this duty of confessing one’s sins, and in doing so cut off one of the most efficacious of all means for cleansing axed healing the soul. Now the world is beginning to realize the disaster which the Reformation was, and is clamouring to get back Confession, or something equivalent to it. Men realize that the heart overcharged with guilt and misery needs for its relief a sympathetic ear into which it can pour its tale of sorrow, shame and weakness. The mere unburdening itself to one who understands and sympathizes is the greatest of human consolations. But suppose the listener to be, not only a trustworthy friend, but a divinely-appointed comforter, with supernatural powers to heal and soothe the bruised soul, one who holds the place of Christ Himself, who, speaking in Christ’s name and with His authority, assures the sinner that his sins are washed away, and that he is reconciled to God-so that he can lift his head and look his God in the face again-if an institution like that were possible, surely we would call it a blessed thing indeed? Well, that is exactly what the Catholic Sacrament of Penance is. You go to a priest and tell your sins; it hurts just as it hurts to drink bitter medicine or submit to the lancet; but then the blessed words of absolution are spoken, Ego te absolvo, and you rise up from your knees a new man, with the fire of courage burning in your heart-the light of hope kindled in your eye-ready to face life again.

SUICIDE

You may have read something of the dreadful statistics of suicide in the civilized world in more modern times, and especially in Europe since the Reformation. It is well known that suicide has been much more common among Protestants than in Catholic communities.* In England and Wales, e.g., during the years 1861–1906 the average annual number of suicides has gone on steadily increasing from 65 to 100 for every million of living inhabitants.

May we not reasonably assert that this terrible increase in acts of self-destruction and despair is to a large extent the effect of the abolition of the Catholic confessional? Confession is the safety-valve for the overcharged soul which is being dragged down to despair by the worries of life. The soul needs to hear amid the storm of life’s troubles the comforting voice of Christ saying “Be of good heart, it is I; be not afraid”-as the frightened disciples hear it ring across the stormtossed waters of Galilee.

Well it is from the Catholic priest in the Sacrament of penance each individual soul can hear those words addressed to itself personally by Christ’s representative.

Atheism, Agnosticism, Paganism look out on life with eyes of despair. The pessimism of unbelief finds its only relief, and its only logical issue, in self-destruction.

THE SACRAMENT OF HOPE

Confession is the Sacrament of Hope; it is to set up a strung barrier against the flood-tide of despair; and I ask you is not that religious system a sane, a reasonable one which insistently reminds the world that Christ came as a Messenger of Hope, and that it is because He wants us to hope that He bids us confess our sins and hear the words of pardon from the lips of His priest: “Whose sins YOU shall forgive,” Christ said to His priests, “they ARE forgiven them-by God in Heaven.”

Hope is sanity; despair is madness and folly; and just because Catholicism is the religion of hope, it is also the religion of sanity and common sense.

By this Sacrament of Confession, then, and by obliging us to go regularly to Confession, the Catholic Church in a practical manner keeps her children mindful of their responsibility to God as free agents, and the necessity of repentance and atonement where sin has been committed.

IMMORTALITY

There remains the third great fundamental truth of Catholicism (besides the existence of God and free will), viz., the immortality of the soul, and the soul’s immortal destiny, to possess and enjoy God forever in Heaven.

Here, again, let us see what practical means the Catholic Church adopts in order to bring home this doctrine daily and hourly to the minds and hearts of her children. The whole organization, method and system of Catholicism turn upon this doctrine of immortality-it is the pivot around which all the rest revolves. Hence, every word and action, every ceremony and doctrine, of the Catholic Church presuppose, or call attention to, our immortal destiny. Her eyes are fixed, not on this world, but on the next. But amid all her doctrines, Sacraments and practices there is one supreme doctrine that brings us into immediate contact with this fundamental principle of immortality-brings us into constant relationship with that existence after death to which we are all hastening, and that is the doctrine of Christ’s Real Presence in the Eucharist.

THE REAL PRESENCE THAT DOCTRINE INCLUDES THE FOLLOWING POINTS

*See Encyclopaedia Britannica, “Suicide,” Vol. XXVI, page 50 (11th ed.).

1. When the bread and wine have been consecrated at Mass, then Jesus Christ, the living Man, is truly and substantially present just as He was on Easter Sunday when He appeared to Mary Magdalen at the tomb, or to the disciples in the supper-room.

2. This belief in the real living Presence of Jesus presupposes the Death and Resurrection of Christ -i.e., it presupposes His new existence after death in a glorified, risen body. It is with the risen Christ we are brought into contact in Holy Communion.

Why did Christ rise from the dead? Was it not to solve for us the riddle of death? All down the ages men had been asking the question: What is death? And none could answer. They saw generation after generation of mankind passing through the dark gates of death, but none ever returned to say what had befallen them. Jesus the Man God came and faced death. He, too, passed through those dread portals; but He did what no other man had ever done: He came back from the tomb to tell us of the life beyond the grave. Jesus came back as the herald of immortality-to assure us in His own living Person what our lot is to be when death claims us as it claimed Him.

In Holy Communion you come to receive and converse with the risen Christ; and He comes to refresh in your soul, too, the belief in your immortal destiny-He comes to strengthen and cheer you in the great struggle for immortal life which is occupying us here below.

SANE WITH THE SANITY OF CHRIST

See how sane and practical Catholicism is-sane and practical, because its thoughts are the thoughts of Christ Himself. The Catholic Church does not merely speculate, as the philosophers did, on the immortality of the soul; she is not satisfied with merely preaching the doctrine: she does something more wonderful, more piercing and miraculous; she cries out, “Come and taste immortal life in this Sacrament. Here is the King of Immortality come in person to prepare you for your eternal destiny.”

Immortality means the possession of God forever, and we get a foretaste and a pledge of that in receiving Christ under the sacramental veils.

But this subject of the Eucharist and the part it plays in Catholic life is too vast and complicated to be dealt with fully here, and I must be content with merely indicating the marvellous method adopted by the Catholic Church (under instructions from her Founder) to make her children realize the value of their immortal souls.

And here we pause in our argument. I hope I have said enough (although I have merely touched upon the fringe of the subject) to show that the sanity of Catholicism is manifested in the practical way she provides for the spiritual welfare of her children.

Nihil Obstat:

Bernard O’Connor, Diocesan Censor.

Imprimatur:

@ Daniel Mannix,

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis, 29/7/1960

********

The Sermons of Saint John Mary Vianney No.1

INDEX

THE DREADFUL STATE OF THE LUKEWARM SOUL

In speaking to you today, my dear brethren, of the dreadful state of the lukewarm soul, my purpose is not to paint for you a terrifying and despairing picture of the soul which is living in mortal sin without even having the wish to escape from this condition. That poor unfortunate creature can but look forward to the wrath of God in the next life. Alas! These sinners hear me; they know well of whom I am speaking at this very moment. . . . We will go no further, for all that I would wish to say would serve only to harden them more. In speaking to you, my brethren, of the lukewarm soul, I do not wish, either, to speak of those who make neither their Easter duty nor their annual Confession.

They know very well that in spite of all their prayers and their other good works they will be lost. Let us leave them in their blindness, since they want to remain that way. . . .

Nor do I understand, brethren, by the lukewarm soul, that soul who would like to be worldly without ceasing to be a child of God. You will see such a one at one moment prostrate before God, his Saviour and his Master, and the next moment similarly prostrate before the world, his idol.

Poor blind creature, who gives one hand to God and the other to the world, so that he can call both to his aid, and promise his heart to each in turn! He loves God, or rather, he would like to love Him, but he would also like to please the world. Then, weary of wanting to give his allegiance to both, he ends by giving it to the world alone. This is an extraordinary life and one which offers so strange a spectacle that it is hard to persuade oneself that it could be the life of one and the same person. I am going to show you this so clearly that perhaps many among you will be hurt by it. But that will matter little to me, for I am always going to tell you what I ought to tell you, and then you will do what you wish about it. . . .

I would say further, my brethren, that whoever wants to please both the world and God leads one of the most unhappy of lives. You shall see how. Here is someone who gives himself up to the pleasures of the world or develops some evil habit.

How great is his fear when he comes to fulfil his religious duties; that is, when he says his prayers, when he goes to Confession, or wants to go to Holy Communion! He does not want to be seen by those with whom he has been dancing and passing nights at the cabarets, where he has been giving himself over to many kinds of licentiousness. Has he come to the stage when he is going to deceive his confessor by hiding the worst of his actions and thus obtain permission to go to Holy Communion, or rather, to commit a sacrilege? He would prefer to go to Holy Communion before or after Mass, that is to say, when there is no one present. Yet he is quite happy to be seen by the good people who know nothing about his evil life and among whom he would like to arouse good opinions about himself. In front of devout people he talks about religion. When he is with those who have no religion, he will talk only about the pleasures of the world. He would blush to fulfil his religious practices in front of his companions or those boys and girls who share his evil ways. . . .

This is so true that one day someone asked me to allow him to go to Holy Communion in the sacristy so that no one would see him. Is it possible, my brethren, that one could think upon such horrible behaviour without shuddering?

But we shall proceed further and you will see the embarrassment of these poor people who want to follow the world without-outwardly at any rate-leaving God. Here is Easter approaching. They must go to Confession. It is not, of course, that they want to go or that they feel any urge or need to receive the Sacrament of Penance. They would be only too pleased if Easter came around about once every thirty years. But their parents still retain the exterior practice of religion. They will be happy if their children go to the altar, and they keep urging them, then, to go to Confession. In this, of course, they make a mistake. If only they would just pray for them and not torment them into committing sacrileges. So to rid themselves of the importunity of their parents, to keep up appearances, these people will get together to find out who is the best confessor to try for absolution for the first or second time

“Look,” says one, “my parents keep nagging at me because I haven’t been to Confession. Where shall we go?” “It is of no use going to our parish priest; he is too scrupulous. He would not allow us to make our Easter duty. We will have to try to find So-and-So. He let this one and that one go through, and they are worse than we are. We have done no more harm than they have.”

Another will say: “I assure you that if it were not for my parents I would not make my Easter duty at all. Our catechism says that to make a good Confession we must give up sin and the occasions of sin, and we are doing neither the one nor the other. I tell you sincerely that I am really embarrassed every time Easter comes around. I will be glad when the time comes for me to settle down and to cease gallivanting. I will make a confession then of my whole life, to put right the ones I am making now. Without that I would not die happy.”

“Well,” another will say to him, “when that time comes you ought to go to the priest who has been hearing your confessions up to the present. He will know you best.” “Indeed no! I will go to the one who would not give me absolution, because he would not want to see me damned either.”

“My word, aren’t you good! That means nothing at all. They all have the same power.”

“That is a good thing to remember when we are doing what we ought to do. But when we are in sin, we think otherwise.

One day I went to see a girl who was pretty careless. She told me that she was not going back to Confession to the priests who were so easy and who, in making it seem as if they wanted to save you, pushed you into Hell.” That is how many of these poor blind people behave! “Father,” they will say to the priest, “I am going to Confession to you because our parish priest is too exacting. He wants to make us promise things which we cannot hold to. He would have us all saints, and that is not possible in the world. He would want us never to go to dances, nor to frequent cabarets or amusements. If someone has a bad habit, he will not give Absolution until the habit has been given up completely. If we had to do all that we should never make our Easter duty at all. My parents, who are very religious, are always after me to make my Easter duty. I will do all I can. But no one can say that he will never return to these amusements, since he never knows when he is going to encounter them.”

“Ah!” says the confessor, quite deceived by this sincere sounding talk, “I think your parish priest is perhaps a little exacting. Make your act of contrition, and I will give you Absolution. Try to be good now.”

That is to say: Bow your head; you are going to trample in the adorable Blood of Jesus Christ; you are going to sell your God like Judas sold Him to His executioners, and tomorrow you will go to Holy Communion, where you will proceed to crucify Him. What horror! What abomination! Go on, vile Judas, go to the holy table, go and give death to your God and your Saviour! Let your conscience cry out, only try to stifle its remorse as much as you can. . . . But I am going too far, my brethren. Let us leave these poor blind creatures in their gloom.

I think, brethren, that you would like to know what is the state of the lukewarm soul. Well, this is it. A lukewarm soul is not yet quite dead in the eyes of God because the faith, the hope, and the charity which are its spiritual life are not altogether extinct. But it is a faith without zeal, a hope without resolution, a charity without ardour. . . .

Nothing touches this soul: it hears the word of God, yes, that is true; but often it just bores it. Its possessor hears it with difficulty, more or less by habit, like someone who thinks that he knows enough about it and does enough of what he should.

Any prayers which are a bit long are distasteful to him. This soul is so full of whatever it has just been doing or what it is going to do next, its boredom is so great, that this poor unfortunate thing is almost in agony. It is still alive, but it is not capable of doing anything to gain Heaven. . . .

For the last twenty years this soul has been filled with good intentions without doing anything at all to correct its habits.

It is like someone who is envious of anyone who is on top of the world but who would not deign to lift a foot to try to get there himself. It would not, however, wish to renounce eternal blessings for those of the world. Yet it does not wish either to leave the world or to go to Heaven, and if it can just manage to pass its time without crosses or difficulties, it would never ask to leave this world at all. If you hear someone with such a soul say that life is long and pretty miserable, that is only when everything is not going in accordance with his desires. If God, in order to force such a soul to detach itself from temporal things, sends it any cross or suffering, it is fretful and grieving and abandons itself to grumbles and complaints and often even to a kind of despair. It seems as if it does not want to see that God has sent it these trials for its good, to detach it from this world and to draw it towards Himself. What has it done to deserve these trials? In this state a person thinks in his own mind that there are many others more blameworthy than himself who have not to submit to such trials.

In prosperous times the lukewarm soul does not go so far as to forget God, but neither does it forget itself. It knows very well how to boast about all the means it has employed to achieve its prosperity. It is quite convinced that many others would not have achieved the same success. It loves to repeat that and to hear it repeated, and every time it hears it, it is with fresh pleasure. The individual with the lukewarm soul assumes a gracious air when associating with those who flatter him. But towards those who have not paid him the respect which he believes he has deserved or who have not been grateful for his kindnesses, he maintains an air of frigid indifference and seems to indicate to them that they are ungrateful creatures who do not deserve to receive the good which he has done them. . . .

If I wanted to paint you an exact picture, my brethren, of the state of a soul which lives in tepidity, I should tell you that it is like a tortoise or a snail. It moves only by dragging itself along the ground, and one can see it getting from place to place with great difficulty. The love of God, which it feels deep down in itself, is like a tiny spark of fire hidden under a heap of ashes.

The lukewarm soul comes to the point of being completely indifferent to its own loss. It has nothing left but a love without tenderness, without action, and without energy which sustains it with difficulty in all that is essential for salvation. But for all other means of Grace, it looks upon them as nothing or almost nothing. Alas, my brethren, this poor soul in its tepidity is like someone between two bouts of sleep. It would like to act, but its will has become so softened that it lacks either the force or the courage to accomplish its wishes.

It is true that a Christian who lives in tepidity still regularly-in appearance at least-fulfils his duties. He will indeed get down on his knees every morning to say his prayers. He will go to the Sacraments every year at Easter and even several times during the course of the twelve months. But in all of this there will be such a distaste, so much slackness and so much indifference, so little preparation, so little change in his way of life, that it is easy to see that he is only fulfilling his duties from habit and routine. . . . because this is a feast and he is in the habit of carrying them out at such a time. His Confessions and his Communions are not sacrilegious, if you like, but they are Confessions and Communions which bear no fruit-which, far from making him more perfect and more pleasing to God, only make him more unworthy. As for his prayers, God alone knows what-without, of course, any preparation-he makes of these.

In the morning it is not God who occupies his thoughts, nor the salvation of his poor soul; he is quite taken up with thoughts of work. His mind is so wrapped up in the things of earth that the thought of God has no place in it. He is thinking about what he is going to be doing during the day, where he will be sending his children and his various employees, in what way he will expedite his own work. To say his prayers, he gets down on his knees, undoubtedly, but he does not know what he wants to ask God, nor what he needs, nor even before whom he is kneeling. His careless demeanour shows this very clearly. It is a poor man indeed who, however miserable he is, wants nothing at all and loves his poverty. It is surely a desperately sick person who scorns doctors and remedies and clings to his infirmities.

You can see that this lukewarm soul has no difficulty, on the slightest pretext, in talking during the course of his prayers.

For no reason at all he will abandon them, partly at least, thinking that he will finish them in another moment. Does he want to offer his day to God, to say his Grace? He does all that, but often without thinking of the one who is addressed. He will not even stop working. If the possessor of the lukewarm soul is a man, he will turn his cap or his hat around in his hands as if to see whether it is good or bad, as though he had some idea of selling it. If it is a woman, she will say her prayers while slicing bread into her soup, or putting wood on the fire, or calling out to her children or maid. If you like, such distractions during prayer are not exactly deliberate. People would rather not have them, but because it is necessary to go to so much trouble and expend so much energy to get rid of them, they let them alone and allow them to come as they will.

The lukewarm Christian may not perhaps work on Sunday at tasks which seem to be forbidden to anyone who has even the slightest shred of religion, but doing some sewing, arranging something in the house, driving sheep to the fields during the times for Masses, on the pretext that there is not enough food to give them-all these things will be done without the slightest scruple, and such people will prefer to allow their souls and the souls of their employees to perish rather than endanger their animals. A man will busy himself getting out his tools and his carts and harrows and so on, for the next day; he will fill in a hole or fence a gap; he will cut various lengths of cords and ropes; he will carry out the churns and set them in order. What do you think about all this, my brethren? Is it not, alas, the simple truth?

A lukewarm soul will go to Confession regularly, and even quite frequently. But what kind of Confessions are they? No preparation, no desire to correct faults, or, at the least, a desire so feeble and so small that the slightest difficulty will put a stop to it altogether. The Confessions of such a person are merely repetitions of old ones, which would be a happy state of affairs indeed if there were nothing to add to them. Twenty years ago he was accusing himself of the same things he confesses today, and if he goes to Confession for the next twenty years, he will say the same things. A lukewarm soul will not, if you like, commit the big sins. But some slander or back-biting, a lie, a feeling of hatred, of dislike, of jealousy, a slight touch of deceit or double-dealing-these count for nothing with it. If it is a woman and you do not pay her all the respect which she considers her due, she will, under the guise of pretending that God has been offended, make sure that you realise it; she could say more than that, of course, since it is she herself who has been offended. It is true that such a woman would not stop going to the Sacraments, but her dispositions are worthy of compassion.

On the day when she wants to receive her God, she spends part of the morning thinking of temporal matters. If it is a man, he will be thinking about his deals and his sales. If it is a married woman, she will be thinking about her household and her children. If it is a young girl, her thoughts will be on her clothes.

If it is a boy, he will be dreaming about passing pleasures and so on. The lukewarm soul shuts God up in a n obscure and ugly kind of prison. Its possessor does not crucify Him, but God can find little joy or consolation in his heart.

All his dispositions proclaim that his poor soul is struggling for the breath of life.

After having received Holy Communion, this person will hardly give another thought to God in all the days to follow. His manner of life tells us that he did not know the greatness of the happiness which had been his.

A lukewarm Christian thinks very little upon the state of his poor soul and almost never lets his mind run over the past. If the thought of making any effort to be better crosses his mind at all, he believes that once he has confessed his sins, he ought to be perfectly happy and at peace. He assists at Holy Mass very much as he would at any ordinary activity. He does not think at all seriously of what he is doing and finds no trouble in chatting about all sorts of things while on the way there. Possibly he will not give a single thought to the fact that he is about to participate in the greatest of all the gifts that God, all-powerful as He is, could give us. He does give some thought to the needs of his own soul, yes, but a very small and feeble amount of thought indeed. Frequently he will even present himself before the presence of God without having any idea of what he is going to ask of Him. He has few scruples in cutting out, on the least pretext, the Asperges and the prayers before Mass. During the course of the service, he does not want to go to sleep, of course, and he is even afraid that someone might see him, but he does not do himself any violence all the same. He does not want, of course, to have distractions during prayer or during the Holy Mass, yet when he should put up some little fight against them, he suffers them very patiently, considering the fact that he does not like them. Fast days are reduced to practically nothing, either by advancing the time of the main meal or, under the pretext that Heaven was never taken by famine, by making the collation so abundant that it amounts to a full meal. When he performs good or beneficial actions, his intentions are often very mixed-sometimes it is to please someone, sometimes it is out of compassion, and sometimes it is just to please the world. With such people everything that is not a really serious sin is good enough. They like doing good, being faithful, but they wish that it did not cost them anything or, at least, that it cost very little. They would like to visit the sick, indeed, but it would be more convenient if the sick would come to them. They have something to give away in alms, they know quite well that a certain person has need of help, but they wait until she comes to ask them instead of anticipating her, which would make the kindness so very much more meritorious. We will even say, my brethren, that the person who leads a lukewarm life does not fail to do plenty of good works, to frequent the Sacraments, to assist regularly at all church services, but in all of this one sees only a weak, languishing faith, hope which the slightest trial will upset, a love of God and of neighbour which is without warmth or pleasure. Everything that such a person does is not entirely lost, but it is very nearly so.

See, before God, my brethren, on what side you are. On the side of the sinners, who have abandoned everything and plunge themselves into sin without remorse? On the side of the just souls, who seek but God alone? Or are you of the number of these slack, tepid, and indifferent souls such as we have just been depicting for you? Down which road are you travelling?

Who can dare assure himself that he is neither a great sinner nor a tepid soul but that he is one of the elect? Alas, my brethren, how many seem to be good Christians in the eyes of the world who are really tepid souls in the eyes of God, Who knows our inmost hearts. . . .

Let us ask God with all our hearts, if we are in this state, to give us the grace to get out of it, so that we may take the route that all the saints have taken and arrive at the happiness that they are enjoying. That is what I desire for you. . . .

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The Sermons of Saint John Mary Vianney No. 2

INDEX

THEY ARE FOR THE WORLD

One section, and perhaps it is the largest section, of people everywhere are wholly wrapped up in the things of this world. And of this large number there are those who are content to have suppressed all feeling of religion, all thought of another life, who have done everything in their power to efface the terrible thought of the judgment which one day they will have to undergo. They employ all their wiles, and often their wealth, during the course of their lives to attract to their way of life as many people as they can. They no longer believe in anything. They even take a pride in making themselves out to be more impious and incredulous than they really are in order to convince others and to make them believe, not in the verities, but in the falsehoods which they wish to take root in the hearts of those under their influence.

Voltaire, in the course of a dinner given one day for his friends -that is, for the impious-rejoiced that of all those present, there was not one who believed in religion. And yet he himself did believe, as he was to show at the hour of his death.

Then he demanded with great earnestness that a priest should be brought to him that he might make his peace with God.

But it was too late. God, against whom he had fought and spoken with such fury all his life, dealt with him as He had with Antiochus: He abandoned him to the fury of the devils. At that dread moment, Voltaire had only despair and the thought of eternal damnation as his lot. The Holy Ghost tells us: “The fool hath said in his heart: There is no God.” But it is only the corruption of his heart which could carry man to such an excess; he does not believe it in the depths of his soul. The words “There is a God” will never entirely disappear. The greatest sinner will often utter them without even thinking of what he is saying. But let us leave these blasphemous people aside. Happily, though you may not be as good Christians as you ought to be, thanks be to God you are not of that company. But, you will say to me, who are these people who are partly on God’s side and partly on the side of the world? Well, my dear children, let me describe them. I will compare them (if I may dare to make use of the term) to dogs who will run to the first person who calls them. You may follow them from the morning to the evening, from the beginning of the year to the end. These people look upon Sunday as merely a day for rest and amusement. They stay in bed longer than on weekdays, and instead of giving themselves to God with all their hearts, they do not even think of Him. Some of them will be thinking of their amusements, others of people they expect to meet, still others of the sales they are about to make or the money they will be spending or receiving. With great difficulty they will manage the Sign of the Cross in some fashion or another. Because they will be going to church later, they will omit their prayers altogether, saying: “Oh, I’ll have plenty of time to say them before Mass.” They always have something to do before setting out for Mass, and although they have been planning to say their prayers before setting out, they are barely in time for the beginning of the Mass itself. If they meet a friend along the road, it is no trouble to them to bring him back home and put off the Mass until a later hour. But since they still want to appear Christian, they will go to Mass sometime later, though it will be with infinite boredom and reluctance. The thought in their minds will be: “Oh, Lord, will this ever be over!” You will see them in church, especially during the instruction, looking around from one side to the other, asking the person next to them for the time, and so on.

More of them yawn and stretch and turn the pages of their prayer book as if they were examining it in order to see whether the printer had made any mistakes. There are others, and you can see them sleeping as soundly as if they were in a comfortable bed. The first thought that comes to them when they awake is not that they have been profaning so holy a place but: “Oh, Lord, this will never be over. . . . I’m not coming back any more.” And finally there are those to whom the word of God (which has converted so many sinners) is actually nauseating. They are obliged to go out, they say, to get a breath of air or else they would die. You will see them, distressed and miserable, during the services. But no sooner is the service over (and often even before the priest has actually left the altar) than they will be pressing around the door from which the first of the congregation are streaming out, and you will notice that all the joy which they had lost during the service has come back again. They are so tired that often they have not the “strength” to come back to the evening service. If you were to ask them why they were not coming to this, they would tell you: “Ah, we would have to be all the day in the church. We have other things to do.”

For such people there is no question of instruction, nor of the Rosary, nor of evening prayers. They look upon all these things as of no consequence. If you asked them what had been said during the instruction, they would say: “He did too much shouting. . . . He bored us to death. . . . I can’t remember anything else about it. . . . If it hadn’t been so long, it might have been easier to remember some of it. . . . That is just what keeps the world away from religious services- they are too long.”

It is quite right to say “the world” because these people belong to the camp of “the worldly,” although they do not know it. But now we shall try to make them understand things a little better (at least if they want to). But, being deaf and blind (as they are), it is very difficult to make them understand the words of life or to comprehend their own unhappy fate.

To begin with, they never make the Sign of the Cross before a meal or say Grace afterwards, nor do they recite the Angelus. If, as a result of some old habit or training, they still observe these practices and you should happen to see the manner in which they carry them out, you would feel sick: the women will simultaneously be getting on with their work or calling to their children or members of the household; the men will be turning a hat or a cap around in their hands as if searching for holes. They think as much about God as if they really believed that He did not exist at all and that they were doing all this for a joke. They have no scruples about buying or selling on the holy day of Sunday, even though they know, or at least they should know, that dealing on a reasonably big scale on a Sunday, when there is no necessity for it, is a mortal sin. Such people regard all such facts as trifles. They will go into a parish on a holy day to hire labourers, and if you told them they were doing wrong, they would reply: “We must go when we can find them there.” They have no problem, either, about paying their taxes on a Sunday because during the week they might have to go a little further and take a few moments longer to complete the job. “Ah,” you will say to me, “we wouldn’t think much of all that.” You would not think much of all that, my dear people, and I am not at all surprised, because you are worldly. You would like to be followers of God and at the same time to satisfy the standards of the world. Do you realise, my children, who these people are? They are the people who have not entirely lost the faith and to whom there still remains some attachment to the service of God, the people who do not want to give up all religious practices, for indeed, they themselves find fault with those who do not go often to the services, but they have not enough courage to break with the world and to turn to God’s side. They do not wish to be damned, but neither do they wish to inconvenience themselves too much. They hope that they will be saved without having to do too much violence to themselves. They have the idea that God, being so good, did not create them for perdition and that He will pardon them in spite of everything; that the time will come when they will turn over to God; that they will correct their faults and abandon all their bad habits. If, in moments of reflection, they pass their petty lives before their eyes, they will lament for their faults, and sometimes they will even weep for them. . . .

What a very tragic life such people lead, my children, who want to follow the ways of the world without ceasing to be the children of God. Let us go on a little further and you will be able to understand this a little more clearly and to see for yourselves how stupid indeed such a life can be. At one moment you will hear the people who lead it praying or making an act of contrition, and the next moment you will hear them, if something is not going the way they want it, swearing or maybe even using the holy name of God. This morning you may have seen them at Mass, singing or listening to the praises of God, and on the very same day you will hear them giving vent to the most scandalous utterances. They will dip their hands in holy water and ask God to purify them from their sins; a little later they will be using those very hands in an impure way upon themselves or upon others. The same eyes which this morning had the great happiness of contemplating Jesus Christ in the Blessed Sacrament will in the course of the day voluntarily rest with pleasure upon the most immodest objects.

Yesterday you saw a certain man doing an act of charity or a service for a neighbour; today he will be doing his best to cheat that neighbour if he can profit thereby. A moment ago this mother desired all sorts of blessings for her children, and now, because they are annoying her, she will shower all sorts of curses upon them: she wishes she might never see them again, that she was miles away from them, and ends up by consigning them to the Devil to rid herself of them! At one moment she sends her children to Mass or Confession; at another, she will be sending them to the dance or, at least, she will pretend not to know that they are there or forbid them to go with a laugh which is tantamount to permission to go. At one time she will be telling her daughter to be reserved and not to mix with bad companions, and at another she will allow her to pass whole hours with young men without saying a word. It’s no use, my poor mother, you are on the side of the world! You think yourself to be on God’s side by reason of some exterior show of religion which you make.

You are mistaken; you belong to that number of whom Jesus Christ has said: “Woe to the world. . . .”

You see these people who think they are following God but who are really living up to the maxims of the world. They have no scruples about taking from their neighbour wood or fruit or a thousand and one other things. Whenever they are flattered for what they do for religion, they derive quite a lot of pleasure from their actions. They will be quite keen then and will be delighted to give good advice to others. But let them be subjected to any contempt or calumny and you will see them become discouraged and distressed because they have been treated in this way. Yesterday they wanted only to do good to anyone who did them harm, but today they can hardly tolerate such people, and often they cannot even endure to see them or to speak to them.

Poor worldlings! How unhappy you are! Go on with your daily round; you have nothing to hope for but Hell! Some would like to go to the Sacraments at least once a year, but for that, it is necessary to find an easygoing confessor. They would like. . . . if only-and there is the whole problem. If they find a confessor who sees that their dispositions are not good and he refuses them Absolution, you will then find them thundering against him, justifying themselves for all they are worth for having tried and failed to obtain the Sacrament. They will speak evil about him. They know very well why they have been refused and left in their sinful state, but, as they know, too, the confessor can do nothing to grant them what they want, so they get satisfaction by saying anything they wish.

Carry on, children of this world, carry on with your daily round; you will see a day you never wished to see! It would seem then that we must divide our hearts in two! But no, my friends, that is not the case; all for God or all for the world.

You would like to frequent the Sacraments? Very well, then, give up the dances and the cabarets and the unseemly amusements. Today you have sufficient grace to come here and present yourselves at the tribunal of Penance, to kneel before the Holy Table, to partake of the Bread of the Angels. In three or four weeks, maybe less, you will be seen passing your night among drunken men, and what is more, you will be seen indulging in the most horrible acts of impurity. Carry on, children of this world; you will soon be in Hell! They will teach you there what you should have done to get to Heaven, which you have lost entirely through your own fault. . . .

Woe betide you, children of this world! Carry on; follow your master as you have done up to the present! Very soon you will see clearly that you have been mistaken in following his ways. But will that make you any wiser? No, my children, it will not. If someone cheats us once, we say: “We will not trust him any more-and with good reason.” The world cheats us continually and yet we love it.” Love not the world, nor the things which are in the world,” St. John warns us. Ah, my dear children, if we gave some thought to what the world really is, we should pass all our lives in bidding it farewell. When one reaches the age of fifteen years, one has said farewell to the pastimes of childhood; one has come to look upon them as trifling and ephemeral, as one would the actions of children building houses of cards or sand castles. At thirty, one has begun to put behind one the consuming pleasures of passionate youth. What gave such intense pleasure in younger days is already beginning to weary. Let us go further, my dear children, and say that every day we are bidding farewell to the world.

We are like travellers who enjoy the beauty of the countryside through which they are passing. No sooner do they see it than it is time for them to leave it behind. It is exactly the same with the pleasures and the good things to which we become so attached. Then we arrive at the edge of eternity, which engulfs all these things in its abyss.

It is then, my dear brethren, that the world will disappear forever from our eyes and that we shall recognise our folly in having been so attached to it. And all that has been said to us about sin!. . . . Then we shall say: It was all true.

Alas, I lived only for the world, I sought nothing but the world in all I did, and now the pleasures and the joys of the world are not for me any longer! They are all slipping away from me-this world which I have loved so well, these joys, these pleasures which have so fully occupied my heart and my soul!. . . . Now I must return to my God!. . . . How consoling this thought is, my dear children, for him who has sought only God throughout his life! But what a despairing thought for him who has lost sight of God and of the salvation of his soul!

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The Sermons of Saint John Mary Vianney No. 3

INDEX

HAVE YOU RELIGION IN YOUR HEART?

Alas, my dear brethren, what have we become even since our conversion? Instead of going always forward and increasing in holiness, what laziness and what indifference we display! God cannot endure this perpetual inconstancy with which we pass from virtue to vice and from vice to virtue. Tell me, my children, is not this the very pattern of the way you live? Are your poor lives anything other than a succession of good deeds and bad deeds? Is it not true that you go to Confession and the very next day you fall again-or perhaps the very same day?. . . . How can this be, unless the religion you have is unreal, a religion of habit, a religion of long-standing custom, and not a religion rooted in the heart? Carry on, my friend; you are only a waverer! Carry on, my poor man; in everything you do, you are just a hypocrite and nothing else! God has not the first place in your heart; that is reserved for the world and the devil. How many people there are, my dear children, who seem to love God in real earnest for a little while and then abandon Him! What do you find, then, so hard and so unpleasant in the service of God that it has repelled you so strangely and caused you to change over to the side of the world? Yet at the time when God showed you the state of your soul, you actually wept for it and realised how much you had been mistaken in your lives. If you have persevered so little, the reason for this misfortune is that the devil must have been greatly grieved to have lost you because he has done so much to get you back. He hopes now to keep you altogether. How many apostates there are, indeed, who have renounced their religion and who are Christians in name only!

But, you will say to me, how can we know that we have religion in our hearts, this religion which is consistent? My dear brethren, this is how: listen well and you will understand if you have religion as God wants you to have it in order to lead you to Heaven. If a person has true virtue, nothing whatever can change him; he is like a rock in the midst of a tempestuous sea. If anyone scorns you, or calumniates you, if someone mocks at you or calls you a hypocrite or a sanctimonious fraud, none of this will have the least effect upon your peace of soul. You will love him just as much as you loved him when he was saying good things about you. You will not fail to do him a good turn and to help him, even if he speaks badly of your assistance. You will say your prayers, go to Confession, to Holy Communion, you will go to Mass, all according to your general custom.

To help you to understand this better, I will give you an example. It is related that in a certain parish there was a young man who was a model of virtue. He went to Mass almost every day and to Holy Communion often. It happened that another was jealous of the esteem in which this young man was held, and one day, when they were both in the company of a neighbour, who possessed a lovely gold snuffbox, the jealous one took it from its owner’s pocket and placed it, unobserved, in the pocket of the young man. After he had done this, without pretending anything, he asked to see the snuffbox. The owner expected to find it in his pocket and was astonished when he discovered that it was missing. No one was allowed to leave the room until everyone had been searched, and the snuffbox was found, of course, on the young man who was a model of goodness. Naturally, everyone immediately called him a thief and attacked his religious professions, denouncing him as a hypocrite and a sanctimonious fraud. He could not defend himself, since the box had been found in his pocket. He said nothing. He suffered it all as something which had come from the hand of God. When he was walking along the street, when he was coming from the church, or from Mass or Holy Communion, everyone who saw him jeered at him and called him a hypocrite, a fraud, a thief. This went on for quite a long time, but in spite of it, he continued with all of his religious exercises, his Confessions, his Communions, and all of his prayers, just as if everyone were treating him with the utmost respect. After some years, the man who had been the cause of it all fell ill. To those who were with him he confessed that he had been the origin of all the evil things which had been said about this young man, who was a saint, and that through jealousy of him, so that he might destroy his good name, he himself had put the snuffbox in the young man’s pocket.

There, my brethren, is a religion which is true, which has taken root in the soul. Tell me, if all of those poor Christians who make profession of religion were subjected to such trials, would they imitate this young man? Ah, my dear brethren, what murmurings there would be, what bitternesses, what thoughts of revenge, of slander, of calumny, even perhaps of going to law. . . . They would storm against religion; they would scorn and jeer at it and say nothing but ill of it; they would not be able to say their prayers any more; they would not be able to go to Mass; they would not know what more to do or to say to justify themselves; they would collect every item of harm that this or that person had done, tell it to others, repeat it to everyone who knew them in order to make them out as liars and calumniators. What is the reason for this conduct, my dear brethren? Surely it is that our religion is only one of whim, of longstanding habit and routine, and, if we were to put it more forcefully, because we are hypocrites who serve God just as long as everything is going according to our wishes. Alas, my dear brethren, all of these virtues which we observe in a great many apparent Christians are but like the flowers of spring, which one gust of hot wind can wither.

LOST WORKS

How is it, my dear brethren, that so few Christians behave with one end only in view-to please God? Here is the reason, pure and simple. It is just that the vast majority of Christians are enveloped in the most shocking ignorance, so that, humanly speaking, they really do the very best they can.

The result is that if you were to compare their intentions with those of pagans, you would not find any difference. Ah, dear Lord, how many good works are lost for Heaven! Others who are a little better informed are interested only in the esteem of their fellow men, and they try to dissemble as much as they can: their exterior seems good, while interiorly they are filled with duplicity and evil.

Yes, my dear brethren, we shall see at the Judgment that the largest section of Christians practiced a religion of whim or caprice only-that is to say, the greatest number of them practiced their religion merely from motives of routine, and very few sought God alone in what they did.

WE ARE WRETCHED CREATURES

We cannot dwell upon the conduct of the Jews, my dear people, without being struck with amazement. These very people had waited for God for four thousand years, they had prayed much because of the great desire they had to receive Him, and yet when He came, He could not find a single person to give Him the poorest lodging. The allpowerful God was obliged to make His dwelling with the animals.

And yet, my dear people, I find in the conduct of the Jews, criminal as it was, not a subject for explanations, but a theme for the condemnation of the conduct of the majority of Christians. We can see that the Jews had formed an idea of their Redeemer which did not conform with the state of austerity in which He appeared. It seemed as if they could not persuade themselves that this could indeed be He who was to be their Saviour; St. Paul tells us very clearly that if the Jews had recognised Him as God, they would never have put Him to death. There is, then, some small excuse for the Jews. But what excuse can we make, my dear brethren, for the coldness and the contempt which we show towards Jesus Christ? Oh, yes, we do indeed truly believe that Jesus Christ came upon earth, that He provided the most convincing proofs of His divinity. Hence the reason for our hope. We rejoice, and we have good reason to recognise Jesus Christ as our God, our Saviour, and our Model. Here is the foundation of our faith. But, tell me, with all this, what homage do we really pay Him? Do we do more for Him than if we did not believe all this? Tell me, dear brethren, does our conduct correspond at all to our beliefs? We are wretched creatures.

We are even more blameworthy than the Jews.

ROUTINE FOLLOWERS

Ah, dear lord, what blindness! oh, ugly sin of hypocrisy which leads souls to hell with actions which, if they had been performed from genuine motives, would have brought them to Heaven! Unfortunately, such a large body of Christians do not know themselves and do not even try to know themselves. They follow routines and habits, and they do not want to see reason. They are blind, and they move along in their blindness. If a priest wants to tell them about the state they are in, they do not listen, and if they go through the pretence of listening, they will do nothing at all about what they are told.

This state, my dear people, is the most unhappy state that anyone can possibly imagine, and it is perhaps the most dangerous one as well.

THE WORLD IS EVERYTHING AND GOD IS NOTHING!

If people would do for god what they do for the world, my dear people, what a great number of Christians would go to Heaven! But if you, dear children, had to pass three or four hours praying in a church, as you pass them at a dance or in a cabaret, how heavily the time would press upon you! If you had to go to a great many different places in order to hear a sermon, as you go for your pastimes or to satisfy your avarice and greed, what pretexts there would be, and how many detours would be taken to avoid going at all. But nothing is too much trouble when done for the world. What is more, people are not afraid of losing either God or their souls or Heaven. With what good reason did Jesus Christ, my dear people, say that the children of this world are more zealous in serving their master, the world, than the children of light are in serving theirs, who is God. To our shame, we must admit that people fear neither expense, nor even going into debt, when it is a matter of satisfying their pleasures, but if some poor person asks them for help, they have nothing at all. This is true of so many: they have everything for the world and nothing at all for God because to them, the world is everything and God is nothing.

FOLLOW ONE MASTER ONLY

What a sad life does he lead who wants both to please the world and to serve God! It is a great mistake to make, my friends. Apart from the fact that you are going to be unhappy all the time, you can never attain the stage at which you will be able to please the world and please God. It is as impossible a feat as trying to put an end to eternity. Take the advice that I am going to give you now and you will be less unhappy: give yourselves wholly to God or else wholly to the world. Do not look for and do not serve more than one master, and once you have chosen the one you are going to follow, do not leave him. You surely remember what Jesus Christ said to you in the Gospel: you cannot serve God and Mammon; that is to say, you cannot follow the world and the pleasures of the world and Jesus Christ with His Cross. Of course you would be quite willing to follow God just so far and the world just so far! Let me put it even more clearly: you would like it if your conscience, if your heart, would allow you to go to the altar in the morning and the dance in the evening; to spend part of the day in church and the remainder in the cabarets or other places of amusement; to talk of God at one moment and the next to tell obscene stories or utter calumnies about your neighbour; to do a good turn for your next-door neighbour on one occasion and on some other to do him harm; in other words, to do good and speak well when you are with good people and to do wrong when you are in bad company.

WE ARE EXTRAORDINARILY BLIND

We must certainly be extraordinarily blind because when all is said and done, there is not a single person who could say that he is ready to appear before Jesus Christ.

Yet in spite of the fact that we are quite aware of this, here is still not one among us who will take a single step nearer to God. Dear Lord, how blind the sinner is! How pitiable is his lot! My dear children, let us not live like fools any longer, for at the moment when we least expect it, Jesus Christ will knock at our door. How happy then will be the person who has not been waiting until that very moment to prepare himself for Him.

That is what I wish you to be.

NOT LIKE THE OTHERS

I am not like the others! That, my dear brethren, is the usual tone of false virtue and the attitude of those proud people who, always quite satisfied with themselves, are at all times ready to censure and to criticise the conduct of others. That, too, is the attitude of the rich, who look upon the poor as if they were of a different race or nature from them and who behave towards them accordingly.

Let us go one better, my dear brethren, and admit that it is the attitude of most of the world. There are very few people, even in the lowliest conditions, who do not have a good opinion of themselves. They regard themselves as far superior to their equals, and their detestable pride urges them to believe that they are indeed worth a great deal more than most other people. From this I conclude that pride is the source of all the vices and the cause of all the evils which have occurred, and which are still to come, in the course of the centuries. We carry our blindness so far that often we even glorify ourselves on account of things which really ought to cover us with confusion. Some derive a great deal of pride because they believe that they have more intelligence than others; others because they have a few more inches of land or some money, when in fact they should be in dread of the formidable account which God will demand of them one day. Oh, my dear brethren, if only some of them felt the need to say the prayer that St. Augustine addressed to God: “My God, teach me to know myself for what I am and I shall have no need of anything else to cover me with confusion and scorn for myself.”

We could say that this sin is found everywhere, that it accompanies man in what he does and says. It is like a kind of seasoning or flavouring which can be tasted in every portion of a dish. Listen to me for a moment and you can see this for yourselves. Our Lord gives us an example in the Gospel when He tells us of the Pharisee who went up into the temple to pray and, standing up where all could see him, said in a loud voice: “O God, I give thee thanks that I am not as the rest of men steeped in sin. I spend my life doing good and pleasing you.”

Herein consists the very nature of the proud man: instead of thanking God for condescending to make use of him for a good purpose and for giving him grace, he looks upon whatever good he does as something which comes from himself, not from God. Let us go into a few details and you will see that there are hardly any exceptions to this general sin of pride. The old and the young, the rich and the poor, all suffer from it. Each and everyone congratulates himself and flatters himself because of what he is or of what he does—or rather because of what he is not and what he does not. Everyone applauds himself and loves also to be applauded. Everyone rushes to solicit the praises of the rest of the world, and everyone strives to draw them to himself. In this way are the lives of the great majority of people passed.

The door by which pride enters with the greatest ease and strength is the door of wealth. Just as soon as someone improves his possessions and his sources of wealth, you will observe him change his mode of life. He will act as Jesus Christ told us the Pharisees liked to act: these people love to be called master and to have people saluting them. They like the first places. They begin to appear in better clothes. They leave behind their air of simplicity. If you salute them, they will, with difficulty, nod to you without raising their hats.

Walking with their heads in the air, they will study to find the finest words for everything, though quite often they do not even know the meaning of the words, and they love to repeat them. In order to show that his wealth has been increased, this man will make your head swim with stories of the legacies he is going to receive. Others are preoccupied with their labours to become highly esteemed and praised. If one of them has succeeded in some undertaking, he will rush to make it known as widely as possible so that his would-be wisdom and cleverness may be spread far and wide. If another has said something which has gained approval or interest, he will deafen everyone he knows with repetition of it, until they are bored to death and make fun of him. If such vain and boastful people do any travelling at all, you will hear them exaggerating a hundred times all that they said and did to such an extent that you feel sorry for the people who have to listen to them. They think that they appear very brilliant, though people are scoffing at them in secret. No one can stop them from talking about themselves: one well known braggart convinced himself that people believed everything he said!. . . .

Observe a person of some standing scrutinising the work of someone else. He will find a hundred faults with it and will say: “Ah, what can you expect? He does not know any better!”

But since the proud person never depreciates the merit of someone else without increasing his own importance, he will hurry on then to speak of some work which he has done, which So-and-So has considered so well executed that he has talked about it to many others.

Take a young woman who has a shapely figure or who, at any rate, thinks she has.

You see her walking along, picking her steps, full of affectation, with a pride which seems colossal enough to reach the clouds! If she has plenty of clothes, she will leave her wardrobe open so that they can be seen. People take pride in their animals and in their households. They take pride in knowing how to go to Confession properly, in saying their prayers, in behaving modestly and decorously in the church. A mother takes pride from her children. You will hear a landowner whose fields are in better condition than those of his neighbours criticising these and applauding his own superior knowledge. Or it may be a young man with a watch, or perhaps only the chain, and a couple of coins in his pocket, and you will hear him saying, “I did not know that it was so late,” so that people will see him looking at the watch or will know that he has one. You may observe a man gambling; he may have but two coins to spare, but he will have all he possesses in his hand, and sometimes even what is not his. Or indeed, he will even pretend that he has more than he really has. How many people even borrow, either money or clothes, just to go to places of gambling or other kinds of pleasure.

No, my dear brethren, there is nothing that is quite as ridiculous or stupid as to be forever talking about what we have or what we do. Just listen to the father of a family when his children are of an age to get married; in all the places and gatherings where he is to be found you will hear him saying: “I have so many thousand francs ready; my business will give me so many thousands, etc.”

But if later he is asked for a few coppers for the poor, he has nothing.

If a tailor or a dressmaker has made a success of a coat or a frock and someone seeing the wearer pass says, “That looks very well. I wonder who made it?” they will make very sure to observe: “Oh, I made that.”

Why? So that everyone may know how skilful they are.

But if the garment had not been such a success, they would, of course, take good care to say nothing, for fear of being humiliated.

And I will add this to what I have just said. This sin is even more to be feared in people who put on a good show of piety and religion.

THE EVIL TONGUES

There are some who, through envy, for that is what it amounts to, belittle and slander others, especially those in the same business or profession as their own, in order to draw business to themselves. They will say such evil things as “their merchandise is worthless” or “they cheat”; that they have nothing at home and that it would be impossible to give goods away at such a price; that there have been many complaints about these goods; that they will give no value or wear or whatever it is, or even that it is short weight, or not the right length, and so on. A workman will say that another man is not a good worker, that he is always changing his job, that people are not satisfied with him, or that he does no work, that he only puts in his time, or perhaps that he does not know how to work.

“What I was telling you there,” they will then add, “it would be better to say nothing about it. He might lose by it, you know.”

“Is that so?” you answer.” It would have been better if you yourself had said nothing. That would have been the thing to do.”

A farmer will observe that his neighbour’s property is doing better than his own. This makes him very angry so he will speak evil of him. There are others who slander their neighbours from motives of vengeance. If you do or say something to help someone, even through reasons of duty or of charity, they will then look for opportunities to decry you, to think up things which will harm you, in order to revenge themselves. If their neighbour is well spoken of, they will be very annoyed and will tell you: “He is just like everyone else. He has his own faults. He has done this, he has said that. You didn’t know that? Ah, that is because you have never had anything to do with him.”

A great many people slander others because of pride. They think that by depreciating others they will increase their own worth. They want to make the most of their own alleged good qualities. Everything they say and do will be good, and everything that others say and do will be wrong.

But the great bulk of malicious talk is done by people who are simply irresponsible, who have an itch to chatter about others without feeling any need to discover whether what they are saying is true or false. They just have to talk. Yet, although these latter are less guilty than the others-that is to say, than those who slander and backbite through hatred or envy or revenge-yet they are not free from sin. Whatever the motive that prompts them, they should not sully the reputation of their neighbour.

It is my belief that the sin of scandal-mongering includes all that is most evil and wicked. Yes, my dear brethren, this sin includes the poison of all the vices-the meanness of vanity, the venom of jealousy, the bitterness of anger, the malice of hatred, and the flightiness and irresponsibility so unworthy of a Christian. . . . Is it not, in fact, scandalmongering which sows almost all discord and disunity, which breaks up friendships and hinders enemies from reconciling their quarrels, which disturbs the peace of homes, which turns brother against brother, husband against wife, daughter-in-law against mother-in-law and son-in-law against father-in-law? How many united households have been turned upside down by one evil tongue, so that their members could not bear to see or to speak to one another? And one malicious tongue, belonging to a neighbour, man or woman, can be the cause of all this misery. . . .

Yes, my dear brethren, the evil tongue of one scandalmonger poisons all the virtues and engenders all the vices. It is from that malicious tongue that a stain is spread so many times through a whole family, a stain which passes from fathers to children, from one generation to the next, and which perhaps is never effaced. The malicious tongue will follow the dead into the grave; it will disturb the remains of these unfortunates by making live again the faults which were buried with them in that resting place. What a foul crime, my dear brethren! Would you not be filled with fiery indignation if you were to see some vindictive wretch rounding upon a corpse and tearing it into a thousand pieces?

Such a sight would make you cry out in horror and compassion. And yet the crime of continuing to talk of the faults of the dead is much greater. A great many people habitually speak of someone who has died something after this fashion:

“Ah, he did very well in his time! He was a seasoned drinker.

He was as cute as a fox. He was no better than he should have been.”

But perhaps, my friend, you are mistaken, and although everything may have been exactly as you have said, perhaps he is already in Heaven, perhaps God has pardoned him. But, in the meantime, where is your charity?

A PUBLIC PLAGUE

As you know my dear brethren, we are bound as fellow creatures to have human sympathy and feelings for one another. Yet one envious person would like, if he possibly could, to destroy everything good and profitable belonging to his neighbour. You know, too, that as Christians we must have boundless charity for our fellow men. But the envious person is far removed indeed from such virtues. He would be happy to see his fellow man ruin himself. Every mark of God’s generosity towards his neighbour is like a knife thrust that pierces his heart and causes him to die in secret. Since we are all members of the same Body of which Jesus Christ is the Head, we should so strive that unity, charity, love, and zeal can be seen in one and all. To make us all happy, we should rejoice, as St. Paul tells, in the happiness of our fellow men and mourn with those who have cares or troubles. But, very far from experiencing such feelings, the envious are forever uttering scandals and calumnies against their neighbours. It appears to them that in this way they can do something to assuage and sweeten their vexation.

But, unfortunately, we have not said all that can be said about envy. This is the deadly vice which hurls kings and emperors from their thrones. Why do you think, my dear brethren, that among these kings, these emperors, these men who occupy the first places in the world of men, some are driven out of their places of privilege, some are poisoned, others are stabbed? It is simply because someone wants to rule in their place. It is not the food, nor the drink, nor the habitations that the authors of such crimes want. Not at all. They are consumed with envy.

Take another example. Here is a merchant who wants to have all the business for himself and to leave nothing at all for anyone else. If someone leaves his store to go elsewhere, he will do his best to say all the evil he can, either about the rival businessman himself or else about the quality of what he sells. He will take all possible means to ruin his rival’s reputation, saying that the other’s goods are not of the same quality as his own or that the other man gives short weight. You will notice, too, than an envious man like this has a diabolical trick to add to all this: “It would not do,” he will tell you, “for you to say this to anyone else; it might do harm and that would upset me very much. I am only telling you because I would not like to see you being cheated.”

A workman may discover that someone else is now going to work in a house where previously he was always employed. This angers him greatly, and he will do everything in his power to run down this “interloper” so that he will not be employed there after all.

Look at the father of a family and see how angry he becomes if his next-door neighbour prospers more than he or if the neighbour’s land produces more. Look at a mother: she would like it if people spoke well of no children except hers. If anyone praises the children of some other family to her and does not say something good of hers, she will reply, “They are not perfect,” and she will become quite upset. How foolish you are, poor mother! The praise given to others will take nothing from your children.

Just look at the jealousy of a husband in respect of his wife or of a wife in respect of her husband. Notice how they inquire into everything the other does and says, how they observe everyone to whom the other speaks, every house into which the other enters. If one notices the other speaking to someone, there will be accusations of all sorts of wrongdoing, even though the whole episode may have been completely innocent.

This is surely a cursed sin which puts a barrier between brothers and sisters, too. The very moment that a father or a mother gives more to one member of the family than the others, you will see the birth of this jealous hatred against the parent or against the favoured brother or sister-a hatred which may last for years, and sometimes even for a lifetime. There are children who keep a watchful eye upon their parents just to insure that they will not give any sort of gift or privilege to one member of the family. If this should occur in spite of them, there is nothing bad enough that they will not say.

We can see that this sin makes its first appearance among children. You will notice the petty jealousies they will feel against one another if they observe any preferences on the part of the parents. A young man would like to be the only one considered to have intelligence, or learning, or a good character. A girl would like to be the only one who is loved, the only one well dressed, the only one sought after; if others are more popular than she, you will see her fretting and upsetting herself, even weeping, perhaps, instead of thanking God for being neglected by creatures so that she may be attached to Him alone. What a blind passion envy is, my dear brethren! Who could hope to understand it?

Unfortunately, this vice can be noted even among those in whom it should never be encountered -that is to say, among those who profess to practice their religion. They will take note of how many times such a person remains to go to Confession or of how So-and-So kneels or sits when she is saying her prayers.

They will talk of these things and criticise the people concerned, for they think that such prayers or good works are done only so that they may be seen, or in other words, that they are purely an affectation. You may tire yourself out telling them that their neighbour’s actions concern him alone. They are irritated and offended if the conduct of others is thought to be superior to their own.

You will see this even among the poor. If some kindly person gives a little bit extra to one of them, they will make sure to speak ill of him to their benefactor in the hope of preventing him from benefiting on any further occasion.

Dear Lord, what a detestable vice this is! It attacks all that is good, spiritual as well as temporal.

We have already said that this vice indicates a mean and petty spirit. That is so true that no one will admit to feeling envy, or at least no one wants to believe that he has been attacked by it. People will employ a hundred and one devices to conceal their envy from others. If someone speaks well of another in our presence, we keep silence: we are upset and annoyed. If we must say something, we do so in the coldest and most unenthusiastic fashion. No, my dear children, there is not a particle of charity in the envious heart. St. Paul has told us that we must rejoice in the good which befalls our neighbour.

Joy, my dear brethren, is what Christian charity should inspire in us for one another. But the sentiments of the envious are vastly different.

I do not believe that there is a more ugly and dangerous sin than envy because it is hidden and is often covered by the attractive mantle of virtue or of friendship. Let us go further and compare it to a lion which we thought was muzzled, to a serpent covered by a handful of leaves which will bite us without our noticing it. Envy is a public plague which spares no one.

We are leading ourselves to Hell without realising it.

But how are we then to cure ourselves of this vice if we do not think we are guilty of it? I am quite certain that of the thousands of envious souls honestly examining their consciences, there would not be one ready to believe himself belonging to that company. It is the least recognised of sins.

Some people are so profoundly ignorant that they do not recognise a quarter of their ordinary sins. And since the sin of envy is more difficult to know, it is not surprising that so few confess it and correct it. Because they are not guilty of the big public sins committed by coarse and brutalised people, they think that the sins of envy are only little defects in charity, when, in fact, for the most part, these are serious and deadly sins which they are harbouring and tending in their hearts, often without fully recognising them.

“But,” you may be thinking in your own minds, “if I really recognised them, I would do my best to correct them.”

If you want to be able to recognise them, my dear brethren, you must ask the Holy Ghost for His light. He alone will give you this grace. No one could, with impunity, point out these sins to you; you would not wish to agree nor to accept them; you would always find something which would convince you that you had made no mistake in thinking and acting in the way you did. Do you know yet what will help to make you know the state of your soul and to uncover this evil sin hidden in the secret recesses of your heart? It is humility. Just as pride will hide it from you, so will humility reveal it to you.

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The Sermons of Saint John Mary Vianney No. 4

INDEX

ALL THAT YOU SAY OVER AND ABOVE THESE IS OF EVIL

It is indeed surprising, my dear brethren, that God should have had to give us a commandment forbidding us to profane His sacred name. Can you imagine, my children, that Christians could so hand themselves over to the Devil as to allow him to make use of them for execrating God, Who is so good and so benevolent? Can you imagine that a tongue which has been consecrated to God by holy Baptism, and so many times moistened by His adorable Blood, could be employed in vilifying its Creator? Would anyone be able to do that who truly believed that God had given him his tongue so that he might bless Him and sing His praises? You will agree with me that this is an abominable crime, one which would seem to urge God to overwhelm us with all sorts of evils and to abandon us to the Devil, whom we have been obeying with so much zeal.

It is a sin which makes the hair stand on end in anyone who is not entirely lost to the Faith.

And yet, in spite of its enormity, its horror, its blackness, is there a more common sin than swearing, than the uttering of blasphemies, imprecations, and curses? Do we not all have the sorrow of hearing such language coming from the mouths of children who hardly know their Our Father, horrible words which are sufficient to draw down all sorts of evils upon a parish? I am going to explain to you, my dear brethren, what is understood by swearing, blasphemy, profanities, imprecations, and curses. Try to sleep well during this period so that when the day of judgment comes, you will be found to have committed this evil without knowing what you were doing-though, of course, you will be damned because your ignorance will all be your own fault! For you to understand the enormity of this sin, my brethren, it would be necessary for you to understand the enormity of the outrage which it does to God—a thing which no mortal can ever understand. No, my dear brethren, only the anger, the power and the wrath of God concentrated in the inferno of Hell can bring home to us the enormity of this sin. No, no, my children, let us not run this risk-there must be Hell for all eternity for this sin. All I want to do is to make you understand the difference which exists between swearing, blasphemy, profanity, imprecations, curses, and coarse words. A great many people confuse these things and take one thing for the other, which is the reason why they almost never accuse themselves of the sins they should, why they lay themselves open to the danger of bad confessions and therefore of damnation.

The Second Commandment, which forbids us to use false and unnecessary oaths or to perjure ourselves, is expressed in the following words: “Thou shalt not take the name of the Lord thy God in vain.” This is as though God told us: I order you and command you to revere this name because it is holy and adorable. I forbid you to profane it by employing it to authorise falsehood, injustice, or even-without sufficient reason-the truth itself.

And Jesus Christ tells us not to swear in any way.

I tell you that badly instructed people often confuse blasphemy with swearing. If things have gone wrong with him, a man may, in a moment of anger, or rather of fury, say: “God is not just to make me suffer. . . .”

Although by these words he has thus spoken profanely about God, he will confess his sinby saying: “Father, I accuse myself of swearing.” Yet it is not an oath but a blasphemy which he has uttered. Someone is falsely accused of a fault which he has not committed. To support his protestations he will say: “May I never see the face of God if I did it!” This is not an oath but a horrible imprecation. These are two sins which are every bit as bad as swearing. Another, who will have told his nextdoor neighbour that he is a thief, a scoundrel, will confess that he “has sworn at his neighbour.” This is not swearing; it is using insulting language. Another will say foul and unseemly things and, in Confession, will accuse himself of “having spoken wrongly.” He is wrong; he must say that he has been uttering obscenities.

My dear brethren, this is what swearing is: it is calling upon God to witness what we say or promise; and perjury is an oath which is false-that is to say, it is perjury to swear to what is not true.

The name of God is so holy, so great, and so adorable that the angels and the saints, St. John tells us, say unceasingly in Heaven: “Holy, holy, holy, is the great God of hosts; may His holy name be blessed for ever and ever.” When the Blessed Virgin went to visit her cousin Elizabeth and the saintly woman said to her, “How happy you are to have been chosen to be the mother of God!” the Blessed Virgin replied to her: “He that is mighty hath done great things to me, and holy is His name.”

We ought, you see, my dear brethren, to have a great respect for the name of God and pronounce it only with tremendous veneration and never in vain. St. Thomas tells us that it is a serious sin to pronounce the name of God in vain, that it is not a sin like other sins. In other sins the light nature of the matter diminishes the seriousness of and th e malice in them, and quite often what could be a mortal sin is only a venial one. For instance, larceny is a mortal sin, but if it is larceny of something very small, like a couple of pennies, then it will be a venial sin only. Anger and gluttony are mortal sins, but slight anger or a little gluttony are only venial sins. In regard to swearing, however, it is not the same thing at all; here the lighter the matter, the greater the profanity. The reason for this is that the lighter the matter, the greater is the irreverence, as if a person were to ask the king to serve as a witness to some trifle, which would be to make a fool of him and to belittle him. Almighty God tells us that anyone who swears by His name will be sternly punished. We read in Holy Scripture that in the time of Moses there were two men, of whom one swore by the holy name of God.

He was seized and brought before Moses, who asked God what should be done with him. The Lord told Moses to bring the man into a field and to command all those who had been witnesses of this blasphemy to put their hands upon his head and to stone him to death in order to do away with the blasphemer in the very midst of all his own people.

The Holy Scripture tells us again that whoever is accustomed to swearing, his house will be filled with iniquities and the curse will never leave the house until it has been destroyed. Our Lord Jesus Christ tells us in the Gospel not to swear by Heaven nor by earth because neither the one nor the other belongs to us. When you want to confirm something say: “That is,” or “that is not.” “Yes,” or “no.” “I did it,” or “I did not do it.”

Everything you say over and above that comes from the Devil. Besides, anyone who is in the habit of swearing is a fiery, undisciplined sort of person, very much wrapped up in his own feelings and always ready to swear as well as to a lie as to the truth.

But, you may say to me, if I do not swear, no one will believe me. You are wrong. People never believe someone who swears because swearing presupposes someone who has no religion, and a person without religion is not worthy of being believed. There are many people who do not know how to sell the smallest article without swearing, as if their oath guaranteed the quality of their merchandise. If people see a merchant who swears oaths while he is selling, they immediately think that he is a person of bad faith and that they must be on their guard against being cheated. His oaths provoke only disgust and no one believes him. On the contrary, a person who does not swear adds good faith to what he is telling us.

We read in history of an example reported by Cardinal Bellarmine, who showed us that oaths achieve nothing. There were, he tells us, two merchants in Cologne who seemed to be able to sell nothing without swearing. Their pastor strongly urged them to give up this bad habit, for, far from losing, they would gain much by doing so. They followed his counsel. However, for a while they did not sell very much. They went to find their pastor, telling him that they were not selling as much as he had given them to hope that they would. Their pastor said to them: “Have patience, my children, you may be quite sure that God will bless you.”

In fact, at the end of a certain time, they were doing so very well that one might have thought, from the crowds that came to them, that they were giving their goods away. They themselves then saw that God had indeed blessed them in a very special way. The same Cardinal tells us that there was a good mother of a family who was very much in the habit of swearing. By dint of being persuaded that these oaths were unseemly in a mother and could but draw down curses upon her household, she was induced to correct this habit. She declared that since giving up this bad habit she had seen for herself that everything had gone well for her and that God had blessed her in a special manner. Would you, my dear brethren, desire to be happy during your lives and to have God bless your homes? Take care, then, never to swear, and you will see that all will go well with you.

God tells us that on the house wherein swearing holds sway the curse of the Lord will fall and that it will be destroyed. So why, my dear brethren, do you allow yourselves to fall into this evil way of behaving when God forbids it under the pain of making us unhappy in this world and of damning us in the next? Alas, if we would but understand in some small way what it is that we are doing! We will understand it-but then it will be too late.

In the second place, I say that there is an even worse form of swearing. This occurs when to the oath there are added such execrations as would make you tremble with fear. Thus there are those unfortunate people who will say: “If what I amsaying is not true, may I never see the face of God!” Ah, unfortunate wretch, you are taking but too great a risk of never seeing it! “If it is not true, may I lose my place in Heaven! May God damn me! May the Devil carry me off!. . . .”

Alas, for you, my friend, hardened in this habit! The Devil will only too surely carry you off without your giving yourself to him so far in advance. How many others are there who invariably have the Devil ready on their tongues at the least annoyance: “Oh, this child is a devil. . . . this devil of a beast. . . . this devilish work. . . . I wish it were obliterated, it drives me so mad! “ It is to be greatly feared that the person who has the Devil so often on his lips has him in his heart also! Then how many others are forever saying such things as: “On my soul, yes. . . . On my faith, no. . . . By Heaven!. . . .” Or again:

“Oh, God, yes!. . . .

Oh, God, no!. . . . So help me. . . .”

There is another kind of swearing and of cursing to which people give little thought-these are the oaths which are uttered by the heart. There are those who believe that because they are not actually said by the mouth, there is no harm in them. You are greatly mistaken in that, my friends. It may happen that someone does some damage to your land, or elsewhere, and you swear at him in your heart and curse him inwardly, saying: “May the Devil make away with him!. . . . May the elements destroy him!. . . . May his food poison him!. . . .” And you keep these thoughts in your heart for any length of time and you think that because you do not actually say them with your lips there is no harm in them. My good friends, this is a very serious sin, and you must confess it or you will be lost.

Alas, how few people know the state of their poor souls and how they appear in the eyes of God!

In the third place, we say that there are others even more guilty of this sin who swear, not only in respect of things which are true, but even in respect of things which are false. If you could understand how greatly your impiety and blasphemy insults God, you would never have the courage to commit this sin. You behave towards God as would the humblest slave who should say to the king:

“Sire, you must serve me as a false witness.”

Does not that fill you with horror, my dear brethren? God says to us in Holy Scripture: Be holy because I am holy. Do not lie and do not cheat or wrong your neighbour, and do not perjure yourselves by taking the name of the Lord your God for a witness to a lie, and do not profane the name of the Lord. St. John Chrysostom tells us: If it is already a great crime to swear to something true, what is the enormity of the crime of the man who swears falsely to confirm a lie? The Holy Ghost tells us that he who utters lies will perish. The Prophet Zacharias assures us that the curse will come to the house of the person who swears to confirm a lie and that it will remain thereon until that house is overthrown and destroyed. St. Augustine tells us that perjury is a fearful crime and a ferocious beast which creates appalling havoc. And what about the people who even add to this sin? For there are those who will couple with their perjury an oath of execration by saying such things as: “If that is not true, may I never see the face of God!. . . . May God damn me!. . . . May the Devil make away with me!. . . .

Unhappy creatures! If the good God were to take you at your word, where would you be? For how many years already would you have been burning in the flames of Hell? Tell me, my children, can you really imagine that a Christian could deliberately be guilty of such a crime, of such horror? No, my dear brethren, no, it is inconceivable conduct on the part of a Christian. You must examine your consciences as to whether you have had the determination to swear or to take a false oath and how many times you have had this thought-that is to say, how many times you have been disposed to do it. A great number of Christians do not give even a thought to this, although it is a serious sin. Yes, you will say to me, I thought of it, but then I did not do it But your heart did it, and since you were in the disposition to do it, you were guilty in the eyes of God. Alas, poor religion how little is known of you! We encounter in history a striking example of the punishment of those who swear false oaths. In the time of St. Narcissus, Bishop of Jerusalem, three young libertines, who were abandoned to impurity, horribly calumniated their holy bishop, accusing him of crimes of which they themselves were guilty.

They went before the judges and said that their bishop had committed such and such a sin, and they confirmed their testimony with the most appalling oaths. The first said: “If I am not speaking the truth, let me be smothered.”

The second: “If that is not true, I would be burned alive.”

The third: “If that is not true, let me lose my eyes.”

The justice of God was not slow in punishing them. The first was smothered and died horribly. In the case of the second, his house was set on fire by a burning brand from a bonfire in the town, and he was burned alive. The third, although he was punished, was happier than the others: he recognised his sin, did penance for it, and wept so much that he lost his sight Here is another example which is no less striking. We read in the history of the reign of St. Edward, King of England, that the Count Gondevin, who was the king’s father-in-law, was so jealous and so proud that he could not get along with anyone in the king’s court. One day the King accused him of having had a hand in his brother’s death. “If that is so,” replied the Count, “may this piece of bread choke me.” With an open mind, the King took the piece of bread and made the Sign of the Cross over it. The other tried to eat the bread, but it stuck in his throat and choked him, and he died on the spot. You will agree with me, my dear brethren, after hearing these terrifying examples, that this sin must be very dreadful in the eyes of God for Him to want to punish it in so terrible a way. Yet there are fathers and mothers, masters and mistresses, who at every moment of the day have these words on their lips: “Oh, what a dirty little swine!. . . . Ah, you little beast!. . . . Oh, you fool!. . . . I wish you’d die here and now, you annoy me so much!. . . . You couldn’t be far enough away from me for my liking!. . . . You’ll have a lot to answer for!. . . .”

(And, while I think of it, being foul-mouthed has a very close connection with cursing, too.) Yes, my dear brethren, there are parents who have so little religion that such words are always on their lips. Alas, how many poor children are weak and feeble of soul, sour-vicious even-as a result of the curses that their fathers and mothers laid upon them! We read in history that there was a mother who said to her child: “I wish you were dead, you are annoying me so much.”

This unfortunate child fell dead at her feet.

Another mother said to her son: “May the Devil take you!” The child disappeared without anyone knowing where he had gone or what had become of him. Dear God, what tragedy! Tragedy for the child and for the mother! There once lived a man well respected for his steady living who, returning one day from a journey, called his servant in a very offhand manner, saying to him:

“Here, you, you old devil of a valet! Come and get my boots off!” Immediately his boots began to draw themselves off without anyone touching them. He was absolutely terrified and started to cry out: “Go away, Satan! It wasn’t you I called, but my valet!”

So much did he cry out that the Devil fled there and then and his boots stayed half pulled off. This instance shows us, my dear brethren, how closely the Devil hovers around us, waiting to cheat us and cause us to lose our souls whenever the opportunity presents itself. It was for this reason that, as we see, the first Christians had such a horror of the Devil that they did not even dare to pronounce his name. You should take great care, then, never to say it yourself and never to allow your children or your servants to say it either. If you do hear them saying is you must reprove them until you see that they have given up the habit altogether.

Now, my dear children, it is not only an evil thing to swear oneself, but it is also very wrong to make others swear. St. Augustine tells us that anyone who is the cause of another’s swearing falsely in law is more guilty than someone who commits homicide because, he says, whoever kills a man kills his body only, whereas anyone who makes another swear falsely in law kills his soul. To give you an idea of the seriousness of this sin, I am going to show how guilty anyone is who foresees that people he intends to bring to law are going to perjure themselves. We read in history that there was a citizen of the town of Hippo, a man of some standing, but a little too attached to the things of this world. He decided to force a man who was in his debt to go to law. This wretch swore falsely, or in other words, he declared on oath that he owed nothing. The following night the man who had forced the law suit in order that he might be paid was himself brought before a tribunal where he saw a judge who spoke to him in a terrible and threatening voice and demanded to know why he had caused a man to perjure himself, why he should not have preferred to lose whatever was owed to him than to damn a soul. He was told, however, that since he had been given grace on this occasion, because of his works, he would be condemned to be beaten with rods. The following day his body was indeed covered with blood.

But, you may say to me, if we do not force people to swear in law, we shall lose our debts.

But would you rather lose someone’s soul-and your own-than lose your money? Besides, my dear brethren, you may be very sure that if you make a sacrifice, in order not to offend God, He will not fail to recompense you in some other way. Meanwhile, this does not very often happen, but you must be on your guard against giving presents to or canvassing people, who are to testify against you in law, not to speak the truth; that way you would damn them and yourselves. If you have done that and someone has had a wrong judgment given against him because of your falsehood, you would be obliged to repair all the harm that has been done and to compensate the person concerned, whether in his pocket or in his reputation, and to the fullest extent that you possibly can; otherwise you will be damned. You must also contemplate whether you have even considered swearing falsely and how many times you have entertained such a thought. There are some who believe that because they have said nothing, they have not, therefore, done any harm. My good friends, although you did not actually say anything, you committed a sin, since you were disposed to do the wrong. Consider, too, whether you have not ever given bad advice to others. Someone says to you: “I think I am going to be brought to court by So-and-So. What do you think about it?

I have a great mind not to say what I saw, so that he may not lose the action; the other has more than enough to pay the costs.

And yet at the same time I am doing something wrong.”

You say to him: “Ah, yes, but the wrong is not very great.

. . . . You would make him lose too much. . . .”

If after that he perjures himself, and he himself has not enough to compensate the injured party, you are bound, because it was on your advice that the injury was done, to make the restitution yourself. Would you, my dear brethren, know what to do, both in law and in other affairs? Listen to Jesus Christ Himself when He tells us: “And if a man will contendwith thee in the judgment, and take away thy coat, let go thy cloak also unto him,” for that is more advantageous than going to law.

Alas, that the machinery of justice should be the cause of the commission of sin! How many souls indeed are damned by such false oaths, by hatreds, by cheating, and by vengeance! But think of those oaths, my dear brethren, which are most frequently uttered-which are uttered, indeed, at every hour of the day. If we tell something to someone and he does not believe us, we must needs swear to our statement with an oath.

Fathers and mothers, masters and mistresses, should be on their guard against this. It often happens that children or servants have committed some fault and they are urged to admit it. Both children and servants may have a fear of being smacked or rebuked, so they will swear any number of times that what is alleged is not true, “may they never stir from that place if it is,” and so on. It would be much more praiseworthy for those in authority to say nothing and to suffer any loss rather than make their subordinates damn themselves. Besides, where does that kind of thing get you? You all offend God, and you have nothing to show for it. What regret you would have, my dear brethren, if on the day of judgment you saw those souls damned because of some trifle or passing vanity of yours.

There are still others who swear or promise to do something or to give something to another without having the slightest intention of doing or giving it. Before they promise something, they had better consider whether they will be able to fulfil it.

You should never say, before promising something, “If I don’t do that now, may I never see God. . . . may I never stir from this place.” Take care, my brethren! These sins are more horrible than you will ever understand. If, for example, during a fit of anger, you vowed to be revenged, it is quite clear that not only should you not do such a thing but that, on the contrary, you should ask pardon from God for having such a thought. The Holy Ghost tells us that anyone who swears will be punished. . . . Now, you may ask me, what is to be understood by that word blasphemy?. . . . This, my dear children, is so horrible a sin that it would not seem possible that Christians should ever have the courage to commit it. Blasphemy is a word which connotes the hating and cursing of infinite beauty, which explains why this sin directly attacks God. St. Augustine tells us: “We blaspheme when we attribute to God anything which is not an attribute of God or which is not in keeping with Him, or if we dare to take from what would be in keeping with Him, or, finally, if we attribute to ourselves that which is in keeping with God and which belongs to Him alone.”

I tell you, therefore, that we blaspheme:

1. When we say that God is not just in making some people so rich that they have everything in abundance while so many others are so wretched that they have difficulty in getting bread to eat.

2. When we say that He is not as good as people say, since He allows so many people to remain weak and despised by others while there are some who are loved and respected by everyone.

3. Or if we say that God does not see everything, that He does not know what is going on in the world.

4. If we say: “If God shows mercy to So-and-So, He is not just because that man has done too much harm.”

5. Or again, when we come up against some loss or setback and we lose our temper with God and say such things as: “Ah, but I certainly have bad luck! God cannot do any more to me! I believe that He does not even know I am in the world, or if He does know, it is only so that He can make me suffer!” It is also blasphemy to criticise the Blessed Virgin and the Saints by saying such things as: “That one has not much power! I don’t know how many prayers I have said to him (or her), and I have never got anything.” St. Thomas tells us that blasphemy is an insulting and outrageous utterance against God or the saints. This may be done in four ways:

1. By affirmation, as when we say: “God is cruel and unjust to allow me to suffer so many wrongs, to allow anyone to calumniate me like that, to allow me to lose that money or this lawsuit. I am very unfortunate! Everything is going wrong with me. I cannot have anything, while everything is going well with otherpeople.”

2. It is blasphemy to say that God is not all-powerful and that one can do anything without Him. It was blasphemy for Sennacherib, the King of the Assyrians, to besiege the town of Jerusalem, saying that in spite of God he would take the town.

He mocked at God, saying that He was not powerful enough to stop him from entering the town and putting it to fire and the sword. But God, in order to punish this wretched man and to show him that He was indeed all-powerful, sent an angel who in one single night killed one hundred and eighty thousand of his men. On the following morning, when the King saw his army massacred and did not know by whom, he was terrified and fled to Nineveh, where he himself was killed by his own two children.

3. It is blasphemy to bestow upon some creature that which is due God alone, like those unhappy creatures who will say to some sinful creature, who is the object of their passions: “I love you with all the fervour of my heart. . . . I worship you. . . . 1adore you.” This is a sin which provokes horror, and yet is at least common enough in practice.

4. It is horrible blasphemy to damn something in the name of God.

This sin of blasphemy is so great and so hideous in the eyes of God that it draws down all sorts of evils upon the world. The Jews had such a horror of blasphemies that when they heard anyone blaspheming, they rent their garments. They did not dare even to pronounce the word but called it “Benediction.” The holy man Job had such fear that his children had blasphemed that he offered sacrifices to God in case they had. . . .

St. Augustine says that those who blaspheme Jesus Christ in Heaven are more cruel than those who crucified Him on earth.

The bad thief blasphemed Jesus Christ when He was on the Cross, saying: “If thou be Christ, save thyself and us.” The Prophet Nathan said to King David: “Because thou hast given occasion to the enemies of the Lord to blaspheme, for this thing, the child that is born to thee shall surely die.” God tells us that whoever blasphemes the name of the Lord shall die. We read in Holy Scripture that the people brought a man to Moses who had blasphemed. Moses consulted the Lord, who told him that he must have the man brought to a field and put to death, that is to say, stoned to death.

We can say that blasphemy is truly the language of Hell. St. Louis, King of France, had such a horror of this sin that he ordained that all blasphemers should be branded on the forehead. An important person from Paris, who had blasphemed, was brought to the King and several people interceded for him, but the King said that he would die himself in order to wipe out this dreadful sin, and he ordered that the man should be punished. The tongues of those who were wicked enough to commit this crime were cut out by order of the Emperor Justin. During the reign of Robert, the kingdom of France was overwhelmed by all kinds of evils, and God revealed to a Saint that while the blasphemies continued, the chastisements would continue, too. A law was enacted which condemned all those who blasphemed to have their tongues pierced with a red-hot iron for the first offence and ordered that on the second offence they should be executed. Be warned, my dear brethren, that if blasphemy reigns in your homes, all therein will perish. St. Augustine tells us that blasphemy is an even greater sin than perjury because, as he says, by perjury we take the name of God in witness of something which is false, whereas in blasphemy we are saying something false of God. What a crime is this! And who amongst us has ever fully understood it? St. Thomas, again, tells us that there is another kind of blasphemy against the Holy Ghost which can be committed in three ways: 1. By attributing to the Devil the works of Almighty God, as did the Jews when they said that Jesus Christ drove out devils in the name of the prince of devils, as did the tyrants and persecutors who attributed to the Devil and to magic the miracles performed by the saints.

It is blasphemy against the Holy Ghost, St. Augustine tells us, to die in final impenitence. Impenitence is a spirit of blasphemy, since the remission of our sins is achieved through love, which is the Holy Ghost. 3. We blaspheme when we perform actions which are directly opposed to the goodness of God-as when we despair of our salvation and yet are not willing to take the necessary steps to obtain it; as when we are angered because others receive more graces than we do. Take great care never to allow yourselves to fall into these kinds of sins because they are so very horrible! In this way we look upon Almighty God as unjust because He gives more to others than He does to us.

Have you never blasphemed, my dear brethren, by saying that Providence is only for the rich and the wicked? If something went wrong with your affairs, have you not blasphemed by saying: “But what did I do to God more than anyone else that I should have so much to put up with?”

What have you done, my friend? Lift up your eyes and you will see Him whom you have crucified. Have you not blasphemed, also, by saying that you were tempted beyond measure, that you could not do otherwise, that this was your lot?. . . . Well, my dear brethren, did you never think along these lines?. . . . So it is God who would have had you vicious, bad tempered, violent. . . . fornicators, adulterers, blasphemers! You do not believe in Original Sin, which dragged men down from the state of uprightness and justice in which we were all at first created!

It is stronger than you are. . . . But, my friends, did religion never come, then, to your aid to help you to understand all the corruption of Original Sin? And yet you dare, wretched sinner, to blaspheme against Him Who gave religion to you as the greatest gift which He could make you! Have you not also blasphemed against the Blessed Virgin and the saints? Have you not laughed at their virtues, at their penances and their miracles? Alas! In this evil century how many impious people do we not find who carry their impiousness to the point of actually scoffing at the Saints, who are in Heaven, and the just, who are on earth? How many are there who make fun of the austerities which the Saints practiced and who neither wish to serve God themselves nor tolerate that anyone else should serve Him either? Look again, my dear brethren, and see if you have uttered your swearing and your blasphemy to children. Unhappy people, what chastisements await you in the next life! What is the difference, you may ask me, between blasphemy and the repudiation of God? There is a very big difference, my dear brethren, between blasphemies and repudiations of God. Now in speaking about repudiation, I do not want to talk about those people who repudiate God by abandoning the true religion. We call such people renegades or apostates. But I do want to talk about those people who, when they are speaking, have the dreadful habit, whether in sudden vexation or real passion, of attacking the holy name of God. For example, someone who has lost on a sale or on a gamble will inveigh against God as if he wanted to convince himself that God was the cause of his misfortune. If something happens to you, it seems that God should bear the brunt of all the fury of your resentment, as if God were the cause of your loss or of the accident which befell you. Unhappy sinner! He Who created you from nothing, Who preserves you, and Who fills you continually with blessings and gifts-it is He whom you dare just the same to mock, to profane His holy name and to repudiate, while He, if He had been swayed solely by His justice, would long ago have consigned you to the flames of Hell. We see that anyone who has the misfortune to commit these very grave sins usually comes to a bad end. There is an account of a man who was very ill and reduced to dire want. A missionary went to his home to see him and to hear his Confession, and to him the sick man said: “Father, God is punishing my outbursts of anger and rages, my blasphemies, and my repudiations of Him. I have been ill for quite a long time. I am very poor; all my wealth has come to a bad end. My children despise and abandon me; they are worthless because of the bad example I have given them. Already now for quite some time I have been suffering, lying here on this wretched bed. My tongue is all diseased and I cannot swallow anything without experiencing terrible agony. Alas, Father, I am very much afraid that after all this suffering in this world, I will still have to suffer in the next.”

We see even in our own day that all those people who swear and profane the holy name of God almost always come to bad ends. Take good heed, my dear brethren, if you have this evil habit. You had better correct it, for fear that if you do not do penance for it in this world, you will be doing it in Hell. Never lose sight of the fact that your tongue should be employed in praying to God and in singing His praises. If you have the evil habit of swearing, you should often, in order to purify your lips, say the holy name of Jesus with great respect. Now perhaps you will ask me what is understood by cursing and the uttering of imprecations. It means, my dear brethren, cursing a person or a thing or an animal in moments of anger or despair. It is wishing to destroy him or to make him suffer. The Holy Ghost tells us that the person who has the ready curse in his mouth should greatly fear, lest God should grant him what he desires. There are some who have the Devil always on their tongues, who consign to him everything which annoys them.

When they are at work, if an animal does not go the way they want it to, they will curse it and consign it to the Devil. There are others who, when the weather or the children do not behave as they would wish, call down maledictions upon one or the other. . . . Do not ever forget that the Holy Ghost tells us that a curse uttered irresponsibly or carelessly will fall upon someone. St. Thomas tells us that if we utter a curse against someone, the sin is mortal if we desire whatever it is we say to happen to that person. St. Augustine tells us that a mother cursed her children- there were seven of them. They were all possessed by the Devil. Many children, who have been cursed by their parents, have been delicate and wretched throughout their lives. We read that there was once a mother whose daughter had put her into such a temper that she cried out:

“I wish your arm would wither on you!” In fact, this child’s arm did wither, almost immediately.

Married people should take great care never to utter these dreadful sayings to each other. There are some who, if they are unhappy in their homes, will curse their wives, their children, their parents, and all who in any way have any part in the marriage. Alas, my friends, the whole source of your unhappiness lies in yourself because you entered into marriage with a conscience quite steeped in sin. Think about that before Almighty God, and you will see that it is, in fact, the truth. Workers should never curse their work or those who make them work. Besides, in any event, your imprecations will not make your affairs go any the better. On the contrary, if you have some patience, if you know how to offer up all your difficulties to God, you will bring yourself much nearer to Heaven. Have you not also cursed the tools which serve you in your work, invoking maledictions upon them, your animals, and so on? That is the sort of thing, my dear brethren, which draws down all sorts of evils upon your animals, upon your labours, and upon your lands, which are often ravaged by hailstorms, by drenching rains, and by frosts. Have you not indeed cursed yourselves: “Ah! I wish I had never seen the light of day. . . . I wish I had been born dead. . . . I wish I were back in oblivion.”

Alas! These are terrible sins, and quite a large number of people never accuse themselves of them in Confession or ever think about them. I will tell you yet again that you must never curse your children, your animals, your work, or the weather because in cursing all these things, you are cursing what Almighty God does by His holy will. Children should take care never to give occasion to their parents to curse them, which is the greatest of all evils. Often a child who is cursed by his parents is cursed by Almighty God. When someone has done something to you which has angered you very much, now instead of wishing him to the Devil, you would do far more good by saying to him: “May God bless you!” Then you would be a genuinely good servant of God who returns good for evil. In connection with this Commandment, there yet remains to be said something in the matter of the vows which people make. You should be very careful never to make vows without taking proper counsel beforehand. There are some people who, when they are ill, dedicate themselves to all the saints and then later on do not go to the trouble to fulfil their promises. You should also be careful that you make these vows properly, that is to say, while you are in a state of grace. What a number of sins are committed in the matter of these vows! And the whole business, instead of pleasing God, can only offend Him! If you were to ask me why it is that there are nowadays so many who swear, who take false oaths, who utter frightful curses and imprecations and repudiate God, I would reply that these same people, who give themselves up to such horrible practices, are those who have neither faith, nor religion, nor conscience, nor virtue. These are the people who, to a certain extent, are abandoned by God. How much happier we should be if we had the good fortune to employ our tongues, which have been consecrated to God by holy Baptism, solely in prayer to God, Who is so good, so benevolent, and to sing His praises! Since it is for that purpose that God has given us a tongue, let us try, my dear brethren, to consecrate it to Him, so that after this life we shall have the happiness of going to Heaven to bless Him for all eternity. This is what I desire for you.

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The Sermons of Saint John Mary Vianney No. 5

INDEX

WE ARE NOTHING IN OURSELVES

Temptation is necessary to us to make us realise that we are nothing in ourselves. St. Augustine tells us that we should thank God as much for the sins from which He has preserved us as for those which He has had the charity to forgive us. If we have the misfortune to fall so often into the snares of the Devil, we set ourselves up again too much on the strength of our own resolutions and promises and too little upon the strength of God. This is very true. When we do nothing to be ashamed of, when everything is going along according to our wishes, we dare to believe that nothing could make us fall. We forget our own nothingness and our utter weakness. We make the most delightful protestations that we are ready to die rather than to allow ourselves to be conquered. We see a splendid example of this in St. Peter, who told our Lord that although all others might be scandalised in Him, yet he would never deny Him.

Alas! To show him how man, left to himself, is nothing at all, God made use, not of kings or princes or weapons, but simply of the voice of a maidservant, who even appeared to speak to him in a very indifferent sort of way. A moment ago, he was ready to die for Him, and now Peter protests that he does not even know Him, that he does not know about whom they are speaking. To assure them even more vehemently that he does not know Him, he swears an oath about it. Dear Lord, what we are capable of when we are left to ourselves! There are some who, in their own words, are envious of the saints who did great penances. They believe that they could do as well. When we read the lives of some of the martyrs, we would, we think, be ready to suffer all that they suffered for God; the moment is shortlived, we say, for an eternity of reward. But what does God do to teach us to know ourselves or, rather, to know that we are nothing? This is all He does: He allows the Devil to come a little closer to us. Look at this Christian who a moment ago was quite envious of the hermit who lived solely on roots and herbs and who made the stern resolution to treat his body as harshly. Alas! A slight headache, a prick of a pin, makes him, as big and strong is he is, sorry for himself. He is very upset. He cries with pain. A moment ago he would have been willing to do all the penances of the anchorites-and the merest trifle makes him despair! Look at this other one, who seems to want to give his whole life for God, whose ardour all the torments there are cannot damp. A tiny bit of scandalmongering. . . . a word of calumny. . . . even a slightly cold reception or a small injustice done to him. . . . a kindness returned by ingratitude. . . . immediately gives birth in him to feelings of hatred, of revenge, of dislike, to the point, often, of his never wishing to see his neighbour again or at least of treating him coldly with an air which shows very plainly what is going on in his heart. And how many times is this his waking thought, just as it was the thought that almost prevented him from sleeping? Alas, my dear brethren, we are poor stuff, and we should count very little upon our good resolutions!

BEWARE IF YOU HAVE NO TEMPTATIONS

Whom does the devil pursue must? Perhaps you are thinking that it must be those who are tempted most; these would undoubtedly be the habitual drunkards, the scandalmongers, the immodest and shameless people who wallow in moral filth, and the miser, who hoards in all sorts of ways. No, my dear brethren no, it is not these people. On the contrary, the Devil despises them, or else he holds onto them, lest they not have a long enough time in which to do evil, because the longer they live, the more their bad example will drag souls into Hell. Indeed, if the Devil had pursued this lewd and shameless old fellow too closely, he might have shortened the latter’s life by fifteen or twenty years, and he would not then have destroyed the virginity of that young girl by plunging her into the unspeakable mire of his indecencies; he would not, again, have seduced that wife, nor would he have taught his evil lessons to that young man, who will perhaps continue to practice them until his death. If the Devil had prompted this thief to rob on every occasion, he would long since have ended on the scaffold and so he would not have induced his neighbour to follow his example. If the Devil had urged this drunkard to fill himself unceasingly with wine, he would long ago have perished in his debaucheries, instead of which, by living longer, he has made many others like himself. If the Devil had taken away the life of this musician, of that dance-hall owner, of this cabaret keeper, in some raid or scuffle, or on any other occasion, how many souls would there be who, without these people, would not be damned and who now will be? St. Augustine teaches us that the Devil does not bother these people very much; on the contrary, he despises them and spits upon them. So, you will ask me, who then are the people most tempted? They are these, my friends; note them carefully. The people most tempted are those who are ready, with the grace of God, to sacrifice everything for the salvation of their poor souls, who renounce all those things which most people eagerly seek. It is not one devil only who tempts them, but millions seek to entrap them. We are told that St. Francis of Assisi and all his religious were gathered on an open plain, where they had built little huts of rushes. Seeing the extraordinary penances which were being practiced, St. Francis ordered that all instruments of penance should be brought out, whereupon his religious produced them in bundles. At this moment there was one young man to whom God gave the grace to see his Guardian Angel. On the one side he saw all of these good religious, who could not satisfy their hunger for penance, and, on the other, his Guardian Angel allowed him to see a gathering of eighteen thousand devils, who were holding counsel to see in what way they could subvert these religious by temptation. One of the devils said: “You do not understand this at all. These religious are so humble; ah, what wonderful virtue, so detached from themselves, so attached to God! They have a superior who leads them so well that it is impossible to succeed in winning them over. Let us wait until their superior is dead, and then we shall try to introduce among them young people without vocations who will bring about a certain slackening of spirit, and in this way we shall gain them.”

A little further on, as he entered the town, he saw a devil, sitting by himself beside the gate into the town, whose task was to tempt all of those who were inside. This saint asked his Guardian Angel why it was that in order to tempt this group of religious there had been so many thousands of devils while for a whole town there was but one-and that one sitting down. His good angel told him that the people of the town had not the same need of temptations, that they had enough bad in themselves, while the religious were doing good despite all the traps which the Devil could lay for them.

The first temptation, my dear brethren, which the Devil tries on anyone who has begun to serve God better is in the matter of human respect. He will no longer dare to be seen around; he will hide himself from those with whom heretofore he had been mixing and pleasure seeking. If he should be told that he has changed a lot, he will be ashamed of it! What people are going to say about him is continually in his mind, to the extent that he no longer has enough courage to do good before other people. If the Devil cannot get him back through human respect, he will induce an extraordinary fear to possess him that his confessions are not good, that his confessor does not understand him, that whatever he does will be all in vain, that he will be damned just the same, that he will achieve the same result in the end by letting everything slide as by continuing to fight, because the occasions of sin will prove too many for him. Why is it, my dear brethren, that when someone gives no thought at all to saving his soul, when he is living in sin, he is not tempted in the slightest, but that as soon as he wants to change his life, in other words, as soon as the desire to give his life to God comes to him, all Hell falls upon him? Listen to what St. Augustine has to say: “Look at the way,” he tells us, “in which the Devil behaves towards the sinner. He acts like a jailer who has a great many prisoners locked up in his prison but who, because he has the key in his pocket, is quite happy to leave them, secure in the knowledge that they cannot get out. This is his way of dealing with the sinner who does not consider the possibility of leaving his sin behind. He does not go to the trouble of tempting him. He looks upon this as time wasted because not only is the sinner not thinking of leaving him, but the Devil does not desire to multiply his chains. It would be pointless, therefore, to tempt him. He allows him to live in peace, if, indeed, it is possible to live in peace when one is in sin. He hides his state from the sinner as much as is possible until death, when he then tries to paint a picture of his life so terrifying as to plunge him into despair. But with anyone who has made up his mind to change his life, to give himself up to God, that is another thing altogether.”

While St. Augustine lived in sin and evil, he was not aware of anything by which he was tempted. He believed himself to be at peace, as he tells us himself. But from the moment that he desired to turn his back upon the Devil, he had to struggle with him, even to the point of losing his breath in the fight. And that lasted for five years. He wept the most bitter of tears and employed the most austere of penances: “I argued with him,” he says, “in my chains. One day I thought myself victorious, the next I was prostrate on the earth again. This cruel and stubborn war went on for five years.However, God gave me the grace to be victorious over my enemy.”

You may see, too, the struggle which St. Jerome endured when he desired to give himself to God and when he had the thought of visiting the Holy Land. When he was in Rome, he conceived a new desire to work for his salvation. Leaving Rome, he buried himself in a fearsome desert to give himself over to everything with which his love of God could inspire him. Then the Devil, who foresaw how greatly his conversion would affect others, seemed to burst with fury and despair. There was not a single temptation that he spared him. I do not believe that there is any saint who was as strongly tempted as he. This is how he wrote to one of his friends: “My dear friend, I wish to confide in you about my affliction and the state to which the Devil seeks to reduce me. How many times in this vast solitude, which the heat of the sun makes insupportable, how many times the pleasures of Rome have come to assail me! The sorrow and the bitterness with which my soul is filled cause me, night and day, to shed floods of tears. I proceed to hide myself in the most isolated places to struggle with my temptations and there to weep for my sins. My body is all disfigured and covered with a rough hair shirt. I have no other bed than the naked ground and my only food is coarse roots and water, even in my illnesses. In spite of all these rigours, my body still experiences thoughts of the squalid pleasures with which Rome is poisoned; my spirit finds itself in the midst of those pleasant companionships in which I so greatly offended God. In this desert to which I have condemned myself to avoid Hell, among these sombre rocks, where I have no other companions than the scorpions and the wild beasts, my spirit still bums my body, already dead before myself, with an impure fire; the Devil still dares to offer it pleasures to taste. I behold myself so humiliated by these temptations, the very thought of which makes me die with horror, and not knowing what further austerities I should exert upon my body to attach it to God, that I throw myself on the ground at the foot of my crucifix, bathing it with my tears, and when I can weep no more I pick up stones and beat my breast with them until the blood comes out of my mouth, begging for mercy until the Lord takes pity upon me.

Is there anyone who can understand the misery of my state, desiring so ardently to please God and to love Him alone?

Yet I see myself constantly prone to offend Him. What sorrow this is for me! Help me, my dear friend, by the aid of your prayers, so that I may be stronger in repelling the Devil, who has sworn my eternal damnation.” These, my dear brethren, are the struggles to which God permits his great saints to be exposed. Alas, how we are to be pitied if we are not fiercely harried by the Devil! According to all appearances, we are the friends of the Devil: he lets us live in a false peace, he lulls us to sleep under the pretence that we have said some good prayers, given some alms, that we have done less harm than others. According to our standard, my dear brethren, if you were to ask, for instance, this pillar of the cabaret if the Devil tempted him, he would answer quite simply that nothing was bothering him at all. Ask this young girl, this daughter of vanity, what her struggles are like, and she will tell you laughingly that she has none at all, that she does not even know what it is to be tempted. There you see, my dear brethren, the most terrifying temptation of all, which is not to be tempted.

There you see the state of those whom the Devil is preserving for Hell. If I dared, I would tell you that he takes good care not to tempt or torment such people about their past lives, lest their eyes be opened to their sins. The greatest of all evils is not to be tempted because there are then grounds for believing that the Devil looks upon us as his property and that he is only awaiting our deaths to drag us into Hell. Nothing could be easier to understand. Just consider the Christian who is trying, even in a small way, to save his soul.

Everything around him inclines him to evil; he can hardly lift his eyes without being tempted, in spite of all his prayers and penances. And yet a hardened sinner, who for the past twenty years has been wallowing in sin, will tell you that he is not tempted! So much the worse, my friend, so much the worse! That is precisely what should make you tremble-that you do not know what temptations are. For to say that you are not tempted is like saying the Devil no longer exists or that he has lost all his rage against Christian souls.” If you have no temptations,” St. Gregory tells us, “it is because the devils are your friends, your leaders, and your shepherds. And by allowing you to pass your poor life tranquilly, to the end of your days, they will drag you down into the depths.” St. Augustine tells us that the greatest temptation is not to have temptations because this means that one is a person who has been rejected, abandoned by God, and left entirely in the grip of one’s own passions.

THE DUTIES OF THE PREGNANT WOMAN

I am going to talk to you as simply as I possibly can, so that you can easily understand what your duties are and carry them out. I tell you:

1. That as soon as a woman is pregnant, she should say some prayers or give some alms. Better still, if she can do so, she should have a Mass said to ask the Blessed Virgin to take her under her protection, so that she may obtain from God the blessing that this little child may not die without having received holy Baptism. If a mother truly had the religious spirit, she would say to herself: “Ah! If I could only be sure of seeing this little child becoming a saint, of seeing him for all eternity by my side, singing the praises of God! What a joy that would be for me!”

But no, my dear brethren, that is not the thought which occupies the mind of an expectant mother. She will experience, rather, a devouring resentment on beholding herself in this state and perhaps the thought of even destroying the fruit of her womb will come to her. Oh, dear God! Can the heart of a Christian mother conceive such a crime? Yet we shall see some of them who unashamedly will have entertained such homicidal thoughts!

2. I tell you that an expectant mother who wishes to preserve her child for Heaven should avoid two things. The first is carrying loads which are too heavy and lifting her arms to take something; this could be injurious to her poor child and cause its death. The second thing to be avoided is the taking of remedies which could be too harsh on her child or which could heat her blood to an extent which could be fatal to it. Husbands should overlook a great many things which they would not put up with at any other time. If they will not do this for the sake of the mother, let them do it for the sake of the little child. For perhaps the child might lose the grace of Holy Baptism, which would be the greatest evil of all!

3. As soon as a mother sees her confinement approaching, she should go to Confession-and for many reasons. The first is that many women die during their confinements, and if she should have the misfortune to be in a state of sin, she would be damned. The second is that being in a state of grace, all the sufferings and the pains which she will endure will gain merit for Heaven. The third is that God will not fail to give her all the blessings which she will desire for her child. A mother at her confinement should preserve modesty as far as is possible in her state and never lose sight of the fact that she is in the presence of God and in the company of her Guardian Angel. She should never eat meat on the forbidden days without permission, a practice which would draw down punishment upon herself and her child.

4. A child should never be left longer than twenty-four hours without being baptised.

THE DUTIES OF THE MOTHER

You should never have your children sleeping with you from the time they are two years old. If you do, you are committing a sin. The Church did not make this law without reason. You are bound to observe it.

But, you will say to me, sometimes it is very cold or we are very tired. All that, my dear brethren, is not a reason which could excuse you in the eyes of God. Besides, when you married, you knew quite well that you would be obliged to fulfil certain responsibilities and obligations which are attached to the married state.

Still, my dear brethren, there are fathers and mothers who are so little instructed in their religion or who are so indifferent to their duties that they will have sleeping with them children from fifteen to eighteen years of age, and often brothers and sisters together. Dear Lord! These poor fathers and mothers are in a terrible state of ignorance! But, you will say, we have no bed. You have no bed? But it would be better to let them sleep on a chair or in a neighbour’s house. Dear Lord! The parents and children who damn themselves! But I will return to my subject and repeat to you that all the time that you allow your children to sleep with you after they have reached two years of age, you are offending God. How many mothers are there who have found their children smothered in the morning! How many mothers are present to whom this calamity has happened! And even if the good God has preserved you from it, you are no less guilty than if, every time your children slept with you, you found them smothered in the morning. You do not wish to agree with this, that is to say, you do not wish to correct it. We will wait until the Judgment, and you will be obliged to recognise what you do not wish to recognise today. There are mothers who have so little religion or, if you like, are so ignorant that if they want to show off their baby to some neighbouring mothers, they will show it to them naked. Others, when they are putting on diapers, will leave the babies, for a long period of time, uncovered before everyone. Now even if there is no one present at all, you should not do this. Should you not respect the presence of their Guardian Angels? It is the same thing when you are feeding them. Should any Christian mother allow her breasts to remain exposed? And even if they are covered, should she not turn aside to some place where there is no one else? Then there are others who, under the pretext of being foster-nurses, are continually only halfcovered. This is very disgusting. It is enough to make even the pagans blush. People are compelled to avoid their company in order not to expose themselves to evil thoughts.

But, you will say to me, even if everyone is around, we must feed our children and change their diapers when they cry! And I shall tell you that when they cry, you ought to do everything you possibly can to quieten them but that it is a far better thing to let them cry a little than to offend God. Alas! How many mothers are the cause of evil glances, of bad thoughts, of immodest touches! Tell me, are these the Christian mothers who should be so reserved? Oh, dear God! What judgment should they expect? Others are so cruel that they let their children run around for the whole morning, during the summer, only half-dressed. Tell me, unhappy people, would it not be better for you to take your places among the savage beasts? Where is your religion, then, and your anxiety to do your duty? Alas! As far as religion is concerned, you have none. As for your duties, have you ever known what they were? That you have not, you give proof every day. Ah, poor children, how unfortunate you are to belong to such parents!

THE DUTIES OF PARENTS

I warned you that you should be sure to keep a watchful eye over your children when you send them out to the fields, for out there, far away from you, they can give themselves over to whatever the Devil may put into their minds. What if I dared to tell you that they carry on with all sorts of ugly and immodest practices, that they pass most of the day in all sorts of abominable ways? I know very well that the majority of them do not know the evil which they do- but wait until they do acquire that knowledge. At that moment the Devil will not fail to remind them of what they have done in order to make them commit that sin or others. Do you know, my dear brethren, what your negligence or your ignorance produces?

Look at it, then, and keep it in mind. A large number of the children that you send out to the fields make their First Holy Communion sacrilegiously. They have contracted shameful habits, and either they dare not confess them or they do not give them up. Later, if a priest who does not wish to damn them refuses them absolution, people will reproach him and say: “That’s because it’s my child. . . .”

Go away, you wretched sinners, and watch a little more carefully over your children and they will not be refused. Yes, indeed, I am telling you that the great majority of your children began their bad ways and earned their later rejection during the time when they went out to the fields.

YOU WILL ANSWER FOR THEIR SOULS

But, you will tell me, we cannot be always following them around. We have other things to do. As to that, my dear brethren, I will say nothing. All I know is that you will answer for their souls as much as for your own.

But we do all we can.

I do not know whether you do all you can, but this much I do know: if your children incur damnation at home with you, you, too, will be damned. That much I know, and nothing else.

You may go on saying “No” to that, saying that I go too far.

You will agree with it if you have not entirely lost your faith. That alone should suffice to cast you into a state of despair from which you could not emerge. But I know well that you will not take another step to fulfil any better your duties to your children. You are not at all disturbed, and you are almost right, for you will have plenty of time to torment yourselves during all eternity. We will pass on.

TO THEIR SHAME IT MUST BE SAID

You should never put your maidservants or your daughters to sleep in quarters to which the men will be going in the morning looking for food. This is something which, to the shame of fathers and mothers, must be said. These unfortunate children, or servants, are confused and embarrassed getting up and dressing in front of people who have no more religion than if they had never heard anyone speak of the one true God. Often, even, the beds for these unfortunate people have no curtains around them.

But, you will say to me, if we had to do all the things you say, there would be an awful lot of work to do. My friend, it is work which you must do, and if you do not do it, you will be punished on account of it: see. . . . I know very well that you will do nothing, or practically nothing, in respect of what I have just been teaching you.

But no matter. I will always continue to tell you what you ought to do. Then all the wrongdoing will be yours and not mine. . . .

When God comes to judge you, you will not be able to say that you did not know what you should have done. . . .

I shall remind you of what I am telling you today.

GETTING TO KNOW THE RIGHT PEOPLE

You talk to them of the world. a mother will begin to tell her daughter that such and such a girl has married such and such a man, that she has done very well for herself, that the daughter ought now to see to it that she has the same good fortune. This type of mother has nothing in her head except her daughter-that is to say, she will do everything in her power to show her off to the eyes of the neighbours. She will deck her out in vanities, even perhaps to the extent of running herself into debt. She will teach her daughter to show herself to the best advantage while walking, telling her that she walks with such a slouch that no one would know what she is like.

Are you surprised that there are mothers who are so blind? Alas! The number of these poor blind mothers who seek the loss of their daughters is very high.

You will see them then in the morning when their daughters are going out, and they are more concerned with seeing that their daughters’ headgear is on straight, that their faces and hands are attractive and clean, than with asking them if they turned their hearts to God, if they have said their prayers and made their morning offering. Of all that, they say nothing at all. Then they will tell their daughters that they should not appear shy or awkward, that they should be charming to everyone, that they ought to be thinking about getting to know the right people in order to get themselves settled in life. How many mothers will you hear saying to their daughters: “If you are nice and pleasant now, or if you make a success of this or that, I will let you go to the fair at Montmerle or to the vogue.” In other words, if you make a success of this or that, as I wish, I will drag you into Hell.

Oh, dear Lord! Is this really the language of Christian parents, who should pray day and night for their little children?

There is something which is even sadder than this, and that is the case of those daughters who are not at all interested in going out and about. The parents keep at them, entreating and encouraging them, saying: “You are always staying in. You will neverget yourself settled in life. You will let no one tell you anything about the world.”

You would like your daughter to get to know people, my dear mother? Do not worry too much-she will get to know plenty of them without your having to upset yourself! Just wait a little while and you will see how well she will get to know them. . . .

You pushed her into it first of all, but it will not be you who will draw her back. You will weep, maybe, but what good will your tears do? None at all. . . .

YOU NO LONGER CONTROL THEM

Every day you are complaining about your children, are you not? Your complaint is that you can no longer control them? That is very true. You have perhaps forgotten the day that you said to your son or your daughter: “If you want to go to the fairat Montmerle, or even to the vogue at the cabaret, you can go there. But you must come back early.”

Your daughter told you that it would be just as you wished.

“Go along so; you never go out. You should have some moments of pleasure.” You will not say: “No!” Later on, you will have no need, either, to urge or even to give her permission to go. Then you will be in a terrible state because she has gone without telling you. Look back, my dear mother, and you will recall that you gave her the permission once. . . . which was for all time. . . . You wanted her to get to know the right people so that she could get married and settle down. In fact, as the result of gadding about, she will get to know many people. . . .

Is not this the way, my dear mother? “Let the Pastor talk away, go along just the same, be good, come back at an early hour, and all will be well.” This is very good, my dear mother, but listen: One day I found myself walking along near where a big fire was burning. I took a handful of very dry straw and I threw it into the fire, telling it not to burn. Those who watched what I was doing told me, as they laughed at me, “You do well to tell it not to burn. Nothing will stop it from burning.”

“But how will that be,” I answered, “when I told it not to?” What do you think of that, my dear mother? Do you recognise yourself? Is not that exactly what you are doing?. . . .

Tell me, my dear mother, if you have any sentiments of religion and of affection for your children, should you not be doing everything you possibly can to help them to avoid the evil that you did yourself when you were the same age as your own daughter? Let us put it a bit more bluntly. You are not sufficiently content with being unhappy yourself, but do you want your children to be unhappy, too? And you, my daughter, you are unhappy in your own home? I am very distressed about that, I am very troubled by it, but I am less surprised than if you said you were happy, with all the pressure that is brought to bear upon you to get married.

Yes, my dear brethren, corruption among the young people today has grown to such a high degree that it would be almost as impossible to find among them those who worthily receive this Sacrament as it would be impossible to see a damned soul ascending to Heaven.

But, you will tell me, there are still some among them.

Alas, my friends, where are they?. . . .

Ah, yes, fathers and mothers see no harm in leaving a girl with a young man for three or four hours in the evening, or even when they are out at Vespers. But, you will say, they are very good.

Yes, without any doubt, they are very good. Charity urges us to believe that. But tell me this, my dear mother, were you so very good when you were in the same circumstances as your own daughter?. . . .

Alas, it would seem today that if a young man or a young girl wish to settle down, it must follow that they abandon God.

. . . . No, we will not go into details; we will come back to that some other time. . . .

What I have said to you today amounts to only a glance at the subject. Come back on Sunday, fathers and mothers, leave your children to mind the house, and I will go further-without being able to get you to know half the significance of what I am saying! Alas, what about you, you poor children!. . . . Being your spiritual father, I give you this advice: When you see your parents, who miss religious services, who work on Sundays, who eat meat on the forbidden days, who do not go to the Sacraments any more, who do not improve their minds on religious matters-do the very opposite before them, so that your good example may save them, and if you are wise and good enough to do this, you will have gained everything. That is what I most desire for you.

HE WILL HELP US

Yes, my dear brethren, in everything that we see, in everything that we hear, in all we say and do, we are conscious of the fact that we are drawn towards evil. If we are at table, there is sensuality, and gluttony, and intemperance. If we take a few moments of recreation, there are the dangers of flightiness and idle chatter. If we are at work, most of the time it is self-interest, or avarice, or envy which influences us-or even vanity. When we pray, there is negligence, distraction, distaste, and boredom. If we are in pain or any trouble, there are complaints and murmurings. When we are doing well and are prosperous, pride, self-love, and contempt for our neighbour take hold of us. Our hearts swell with pride when we are praised. Wrongs inflame us into rages. There you see my dear brethren, the thing which made the greatest of the saints tremble. This was what made so many of them retire into the desert to live solitary lives; this was the source of so many tears, of so many prayers, of so many penances. It is true that the saints who were hidden away in the forests were not exempt from temptations, but they were far removed from so much bad example as that which surrounds us continually and which is the cause of so many souls being lost.

But, my dear brethren, we see from their lives that they watched, they prayed, and they were in dread unceasingly, while we, poor, blind sinners, are quite placid in the midst of so many dangers which could lose us our souls! Alas, my dear brethren, some of us do not even know what it is to be tempted because we hardly ever, or very rarely, resist. Which one of us can expect to escape from all these dangers? Which one of us will be saved? Anyone who wanted to reflect upon all these things could hardly go on living, so greatly terrified would he be! However, my dear brethren, what ought to console and reassure us is that we have to deal with a good Father Who will never allow our struggles to be greater than our strength, and every time we have recourse to Him, He will help us to fight and to conquer.

WE MUST EXPECT TEMPTATION

It is most unfortunate for ourselves if we do not know that we are tempted in almost all our actions, at one time by pride, by vanity, by the good opinion which we think people should have of us, at another by jealousy, by hatred and by revenge. At other times, the Devil comes to us with the foulest and most impure images. You see that even in our prayers he distracts us and turns our minds this way and that. It seems indeed that we are in a state. . . . since we are in the holy presence of God [sentence incomplete—Trans.]. And even more, since the time of Adam, you will not find a saint who has not been tempted-some in one way, some in another-and the greatest saints are those who have been tempted the most. If Our Lord was tempted, it was in order to show us that we must be also. It follows, therefore, that we must expect temptation. If you ask me what is the cause of our temptations, I shall tell you that it is the beauty and the great worth and importance of our souls which the Devil values and which he loves so much that he would consent to suffer two Hells, if necessary, if by so doing he could drag our souls into Hell. We should never cease to keep a watch on ourselves, lest the Devil might deceive us at the moment when we are least expecting it. St. Francis tells us that one day God allowed him to see the way in which the Devil tempted his religious, especially in matters of purity. He allowed him to see a band of devils who did nothing but shoot their arrows against his religious. Some returned violently against the devils who had discharged them.

They then fled, shrieking hideous yells of rage. Some of the arrows glanced off those they were intended for and dropped at their feet without doing any harm. Others pierced just as far as the tip of the arrow and finally penetrated, bit by bit.

If we wish to hunt these temptations away, we must, as St. Anthony tells us, make use of the same weapons. When we are tempted by pride, we must immediately humble and abase ourselves before God. If we are tempted against the holy virtue of purity, we must try to mortify our bodies and all our senses and to be ever more vigilant of ourselves. If our temptation consists in a distaste for prayers, we must say even more prayers, with greater attention, and the more the Devil prompts us to give them up, the more we must increase their number.

The temptations we must fear most are those of which we are not conscious. St. Gregory tells us that there was a religious who for long had been a good member of his community. Then he developed a very strong desire to leave the monastery and to return to the world, saying that God did not wish him to be in that monastery. His saintly superior told him: “My friend, it is the Devil who is angry because you may be able to save your soul. Fight against him.” But no, the other continued to believe that it was as he claimed. St. Gregory gave him permission to leave. But when he was leaving the monastery, the latter went on his knees to ask God to let this poor religious know that it was the Devil who wanted to make him lose his soul. The religious had scarcely put his foot over the threshold of the door to leave when he saw an enormous dragon, which attacked him.

“Oh, brothers,” he cried out, “come to my aid! Look at the dragon which will devour me!”

And indeed, the brethren who came running when they heard the noise found this poor monk stretched out on the ground, half-dead. They carried him back into the monastery, and he realised that truly it was the Devil who wanted to tempt him and who was bursting with rage because the superior had prayed for him and so had prevented the Devil from getting him. Alas, my dear brethren, how greatly we should fear, lest we do not recognise our temptations! And we shall never recognise them if we do not ask God to allow us to do so.

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The Sermons of Saint John Mary Vianney No. 6

INDEX

THE BAD DEATH

If you ask me what most people understand by a bad death, I will reply: “When a person dies in the prime of life, married, enjoying good health, having wealth in abundance, and leaves children and a wife desolate, there is no doubt but that such a death isvery tragic.” King Ezechiel said: “What, my God! It is necessary that I die in the midst of my years, in the prime of my life!” And the Prophet-King asks God not to take him in his prime. Others say that to die at the hands of the executioner on the gallows is a bad death. Others say that a sudden death is a bad death, as, for instance, to be killed in some disaster, or to be drowned, or to fall from a high building and be killed. And then some say that the worst thing is to die of some horrible disease, like the plague or some other contagious malady.

And yet, my dear brethren, I am going to tell you that none of these are bad deaths. Provided that a person has lived well, if he dies in his prime, his death will not fail to be valuable in God’s eyes. We have many saints who died in the prime of their lives. It is not a bad death, either, to die at the hands of the executioner. All the martyrs died at the hands of executioners. To die a sudden death is not to die a bad death either, provided one is ready.

We have many saints who died deaths of that sort.

St. Simeon was killed by lightning on his pillar. St. Francis de Sales died of apoplexy. Finally, to die of the plague is not a dreadful death. St. Roch and St. Francis Xavier died of it.

But what makes death bad is sin. Ah, this horrible sin which tears and devours at this dread moment! Alas, no matter where the poor, unfortunate sinner looks, he sees only sin and neglected graces! If he lifts his eyes to Heaven, he sees only an angry God, armed with all the fury of His justice, Who is ready to punish him. If he turns his gaze downwards, he sees only Hell and its furies already opening its gates to receive him. Alas! This poor sinner did not want to recognise the justice of God during his life on earth; at this moment, not only does he see it, but he feels it already pressing down upon him. During his lifetime, he was always trying to hide his sins, or at least to make as little of them as possible. But at this moment everything is shown to him as in the broad light of day. He sees now what he should have seen before, what he did not want to see. He would like to weep for his sins, but he has no more time. He scorned God during his lifetime; God now, in His turn, scorns him and abandons him to his despair.

Listen, hardened sinners, you who are wallowing now, with such pleasure, in the slime of your vice, without casting even a thought upon amending your lives, who perhaps will give thought to this only when God has abandoned you, as has happened to people less guilty than you. Yes, the Holy Ghost tells us that sinners in their last moments will gnash their teeth, will be seized by a horrible dread, at the very thought of their sins.

Their iniquities will rise up before them and accuse them. “Alas!” they will cry at this dread moment, “alas! Of what use is this pride, this vain ostentation, and all those pleasures we have been enjoying in sin? Everything is finished now. We have not a single item of virtue to our credit but have been completely conquered by our evil passions.” This is exactly what happened to the unhappy Antiochus, who, when he fell from his chariot, shattered his whole body.

He experienced such dreadful pain in his entrails that it seemed to him as if someone were tearing them out. The worms started to gnaw at him while he was still alive, and his whole body stank like carrion. Then he began to open his eyes. This is what sinners do-but too late.

“Ah,” he cried, “I realise now that it was the evils which I committed in Jerusalem that are tormenting me now and gnawing at my heart.” His body was consumed by the most frightful sufferings and his spirit with an inconceivable sadness. He got his friends to come to him, thinking that he might find some consolation in them. But no. Abandoned by God, Who gives consolation, he could not find it in others.

“Alas, my friends,” he said to them, “I have fallen into a terrible affliction. Sleep has left me. I cannot rest for a single instant. My heart is pierced with grief. To what a terrible state of sadness and anguish I am reduced! It seems that I must die of sorrow, and in a strange country, too. Ah, Lord, pardon me! I will repair all the evil that I have done. I will pay back all I took from the temple in Jerusalem. I will present great gifts to the temple. I will become a Jew. I will observe the Law of Moses. I will go about publicising the omnipotence of God. Ah, Lord, have mercy on me, please!” But his illness increased, and God, Whom he had scorned during his life, no longer had ears to hear him. He was a proud man, a blasphemer, and despite his urgent prayers, he was not listened to and had to go to Hell. It is a grievous but a just punishment that sinners, who throughout their lives have spurned all the graces which God has offered them, find no more graces when they would like to profit by them. Alas! The number of people who die thus in the sight of God is great. Alas! That there are so many of these blind people who do not open their eyes until the moment when there are no further remedies for their ills! Yes, my dear brethren, yes, a life of sin and a death of rejection! You are in sin and you do not wish to give it up? No, you say. Very well, my children, you will perish in sin. You will see that in the death of Voltaire, the notorious blasphemer.

Listen carefully and you will see that if we despise God always and if God waits for us during our lives, often, by a just judgment, He will abandon us at the hour of our death, when we would like to return to Him. The idea that one can live in sin and give it all up one day is one of the Devil’s traps which will cause you to lose your soul as it has caused so many others to lose theirs. Voltaire, realising that he was ill, began to reflect upon the state of the sinner who dies with his conscience loaded with sins. He wished to examine his conscience and to see whether God would be willing to pardon him all the sins of his life, which were very great in number. He counted upon the mercy of God, which is infinite, and with this comforting thought in mind, he had brought to him one of those priests whom he had so greatly outraged and calumniated in his writings. He threw himself upon his knees and made a declaration to him of his sins and put into his hands the recantation of all his impieties and his scandals. He began to flatter himself on having achieved the great work of his reconciliation. But he was gravely mistaken. God had abandoned him; you will see how. Death anticipated all spiritual help. Alas! This unfortunate blasphemer felt all his terrors reborn in him. He cried out: “Alas, am I then abandoned by God and men?”

Yes, unhappy man, you are. Already your lot and your hope are in Hell. Listen to this godless man; he cries out with that mouth sullied with so many profanities and so much blasphemy against God, His religion, and His ministers. “Ah,” he cried, “Jesus Christ, Son of God, who died for all sinners without distinction, have pity on me!”

But, alas! Almost a century of blasphemy and impiety had exhausted the patience of God, Who had already rejected him.

He was no more than a victim which the wrath of God fattens for the eternal flames. The priests whom he had so derided but whom, in this moment he so desired, were not there. See him as he falls into convulsions and the horrors of despair, his eyes wild, his face ghastly, his body trembling with terror! He twists and turns and torments himself and seems as if he wants to atone for all those previous blasphemies with which his mouth had been so often sullied. His companions in irreligion, fearing, lest someone might bring him the last Sacraments, something which would have seemed to them to dishonour their cause, brought him to a house in the country, and there, abandoned to his despair . . . [sermon unfinished—Trans.]

HIS PRAYER IS A LIE

I am sure you would like to know the prayer of a sinner who neither wants to give up his sin nor is much disturbed by the thought of offending God. Listen: the first word he says as he commences the prayer is a lie. He enters into contradiction with himself.” In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost.” Stop a moment, my friend! You say that you are commencing your prayer in the name of the Three Persons of the Holy Trinity. But surely you must then have forgotten that it is only a week since you were in a crowd where everyone was saying that when one dies, everything is over and that being so, there must be neither God, nor Hell, nor Heaven. If, my dear friend, in your hardness of heart you really believe that, you do not come to pray; you come only to amuse yourself and to pass the time. Ah, you will tell me, those who talk that way are fairly uncommon. Nevertheless, there are some of them among those who are listening to me and yet who do not fail to say some prayers from time to time.

Furthermore, I could, if I wished, show you that three-quarters of those who are here in this church, although they do not actually say such things with their lips, say them very often by their conduct and their way of life. For if a Christian really thinks of what he says when he pronounces the names of the Three Persons of the Holy Trinity, would he not be gripped with a fear which would amount almost to despair when he brought before his mind the image of the Father, which he has defaced in such a shocking way, the image of the Son, which is in his soul, which he has dragged through the slime of his vices, and the image of the Holy Ghost, of whom his heart is the temple and the tabernacle, which he has filled with squalor and obscenity?

Yes, my dear brethren, if the sinner had any knowledge of what he says and what he is, could he pronounce these three names without dying of horror? Listen to this liar: “Oh, my God! I firmly believe that you are here present.” Is that so, my friend? Do you really believe that you are in the presence of God, before Whom the angels, who are without stain, tremble and dare not raise their eyes, before Whom they cover themselves with their wings, not being able to withstand the glory of that majesty which Heaven and earth cannot contain? And you, all covered in sins, kneeling there on one knee, do you dare to open your mouth to utter such an abomination?

Say, rather, that you are merely imitating, that you are only doing what you see others doing, or, rather, that you are spending a few moments amusing yourself by acting as if you were praying.

HOW BLIND THE SINNER IS!

You will protest to me that this was not at all your intention when you started to pray: “The Lord protect me from committing such a horrible thing!” A nice excuse, my friend! So anyone who commits a sin has no intention of losing grace? Yet he cannot help but lose it. Is he less guilty of the sin? Undoubtedly no, because he knows very well that he cannot do such and such an action, or say such and such a thing, without incurring the guilt of mortal sin. The intention of all the damned who now burn in Hell was certainly not to get themselves damned. Are they the less guilty for all that? No, certainly not, because they knew that they would damn themselves by living the way they lived. A sinner who says his prayers with sin in his heart, without the intention of losing grace, has not the intention of mocking and insulting Jesus Christ. It is none the less true, however, that he does mock Him because he knows well that anyone mocks God when he says to Him: “O my God, I love You,” while he loves the sin, or, “I will go to Confession.” Listen to that for a lie! He is not even thinking of going to Confession or of being converted from his sin.

But, tell me, what is your intention when you come to church or when you say -as you call it-your prayers? It is, perhaps you will tell me-if you have the hardihood to say it-to perform an act of religion, to give to God the honour and the glory which belong to Him. Oh, horror! Oh, blindness! Oh, impiousness! To wish to honour God by lies-in other words, to want to honour Him by what will outrage Him. Oh, abomination! To have Jesus Christ on your lips and to have Him crucified in your heart! To join what is most holy to what is most detestable, which is the service of the Devil! Oh, what horror! To offer to God a soul which has already been a thousand times prostituted to the Devil! Oh, my God, how blind the sinner is, and all the more blind in that he does not know himself nor even want to know himself! Was I not right at the beginning to tell you that the prayer of the sinner is nothing other than a tissue of lies and of contradictions? That is so true that the Holy Ghost tells us Himself that the prayer of the sinner who does not wish to renounce his sin is an execration in the eyes of the Lord. You will agree with me that this state is very terrifying and deserving of pity. Very well! Look at how sin blinds one! I say without fear of lying that at least half of those who are listening to me here in this church are in that state. Yet, in fact, is it not true that that does not touch you, but rather that you are bored and that time hangs heavily upon you? You see, my friends, the gloomy abyss to which sin leads a sinner. To begin with, you know that you have been in sin for six months, or a year, or more, and yet are you not quite contented?

Well yes, you will tell me. That is not difficult to believe, since sin has blurred your vision. You no longer see anything in that state which has hardened your heart so that you no longer feel anything either, and I am just as sure that nothing I have said to you will cause you to think any further about it. Oh, my God, into what depths does sin lead us! So, you will say, it is of no use saying any more prayers since ours are only insults which we are paying to God. That was not what I wanted you to understand when I told you that your prayers were merely lies. But instead of saying, “My God, I love You,” say, “My God, I do not love You, but all I ask is the grace to love You.” Instead of saying, “My God, I am very sorry for having offended You,” say to Him, “My God, I do not feel any sorrow for my sins, but give me all the sorrow which I ought to have for them.” Very far from saying, “My God, I would like to confess my sins,” say instead, “My God, I feel myself very much attached to my sins, and it seems to me that I do not want ever to renounce them; give me that horror which I ought to feel for them, so that I may abhor them, detest them, and confess them, so that I may never go back to them! “

O my God, give us, please, that eternal horror of sin, since it is Your enemy, since it was sin that caused Your death, since it robs us of Your friendship, since it separates us from You. O divine Saviour, grant that whenever we come to pray, we shall do so with hearts detached from sin, hearts that love You, and hearts that in speaking to You will speak only the truth! That is the grace, my dear brethren, that I desire for you.

PRISONERS OF SIN

If we understood fully what it is to receive the sacraments, we should bring to the reception of them very much better sentiments than those we do. It is true that the greater number of people, in hiding their sins, always keep at the back of their minds the thought of acknowledging them.

Without a miracle, they will not be any the less lost for that. If you want the reason, it is very easy to give it to you. The more we remain in that terrible state which makes Heaven and earth tremble, the more the Devil takes control of us, the more the grace of God diminishes in us, the more our fear increases, the more our sacrileges multiply, and the more we fall away. The result is that we put ourselves almost beyond the possibility of returning into favour with God. I will give you a hundred examples of this against one to the contrary. Tell me, my dear brethren, can you even hope that after passing perhaps five or six years in sacrilege, during which you outraged God more than did all the Jews together, you would dare to believe that God is going to give you all the graces which you will need to emerge from this terrible state? You think that notwithstanding the many crimes against Jesus Christ of which you have been guilty, you have only to say: “I am going to give up sin now and all will be over.”

Alas, my friends! Who has guaranteed to you that Jesus Christ will not have made to you the same threat He made to the Jews and pronounce the same sentence which He pronounced against them?. . . . You did not wish to profit by the graces which I wanted to give you; but I will leave you alone, and you will seek Me and you will not find Me, and you will die in your sin!. . . .

Alas, my dear brethren, our poor souls, once they are in the Devil’s hands, will not escape from these as easily as we would like to believe. . . . Look, my dear brethren, at what the Devil does to mislead us. When we are committing sin, he represents it to us as a mere trifle. He makes us think that there are a great many others who do much worse than we do. Or again, that as we will be confessing the sin, it will be as easy to say four times as twice.

But once the sin has been committed, he acts in exactly the opposite way. He represents the sin to us as a monstrous thing.

He fills us with such a horror of it that we no longer have the courage to confess it. If we are too frightened to keep the sin hidden, he tells us, to reassure us, that we will confess it at our very next Confession. Subsequently, he tells us that we will not have the courage to do that now, that it would be better to wait for another time to confess it. Take care, my dear brethren; it is only the first step which costs the effort. Once in the prison of the sin, it is very difficult, indeed, to break out of it. . . .

But, you are thinking, I do not really believe that there are many who would be capable of hiding their sins because they would be too much troubled by them. Ah, my dear brethren, if I had to affirm on oath whether there were or were not such people, I would not hesitate to say that there are at least five or six listening to me who are consumed by remorse for their sins and who know that what I say is true. But have patience; you will see them on the day of judgment, and you will recall what I have said to you today. Oh, my God, how shame and fear can hold a Christian soul prisoner in such a terrifying state! Ah, my dear brethren, what are you preparing for yourselves?

You do not dare to make a clean breast of it to your pastor? But is he the only one in the world? Would you not find priests who would have the charity to receive you? Do you think that you would be given too severe a penance? Ah, my children, do not let that stop you! You would be helped; the greater part of it all would be done for you. They would pray for you; they would weep for your sins in order to draw down with greater abundance the mercies of God on you! My friends, have pity on that poor soul which cost Jesus Christ so dearly!. . . . Oh, my God, who will ever understand the blindness of these poor sinners! You have hidden your sin, my child, but it must be known one day, and then in the eyes of the whole universe, while by one word you would have hidden it forever and you would have changed your hell for an eternity of happiness. Alas, that a sacrilege can lead these poor sinners so far. They do not want to die in that state, but they have not the strength to leave it. My God, torment them so greatly that they will not be able to stay there!

YOU CAN BECOME A GOOD TREE

Consider now my dear brethren, the good works you have done. Have you done them for God alone, so that there was nothing worldly in them and so that you had no regrets when people sometimes proved ungrateful? Have you ever congratulated yourselves inwardly on the good you have done your neighbour? Because if you have done that, either you have done nothing or you may as well count it as nothing, since you have already lost your reward for it. Do you know, my dear brethren, the decision you have to make? If you have done nothing, or if what you have done has been fruitless because it was done for a human motive, begin immediately to do good works so that at death you will be able to find something to offer to Jesus Christ in order that He may give you eternal life. Perhaps you will say to me: “I have done nothing but evil all my whole life. I am just a bad tree which cannot bring forth good fruit.” My dear brethren, that can very well be, as I am going to show you. Change this tree, moisten it with different water, treat it with some other fertiliser, and you will see that it will bear good fruit, even though it has been bearing bad fruit up to the present. If this tree, which is yourself, has been fruitful in pride, in avarice, in impurity, you can, with the grace of God, see to it that these fruits become abundant in humility, in charity, and in purity. Do yourself as did the earth, which, before the Deluge, drew from its own bosom the water to moisten itself, without having recourse to the clouds of heaven to give it fertility. In the same way, my dear brethren, draw from your own hearts that salutary water which will change your dispositions. You have watered this tree with the foul water of your passions. Well, then, from now on, water it with the tears of repentance, of sorrow, and of love, and you will see that you will cease to be a bad tree and will become one which will bear fruit for life eternal.

To show you, my dear brethren, that this can happen, consider the admirable example furnished in the person of St. Mary Magdalen. Remember how, according to Jesus Christ Himself, she was a bad tree, and then how grace made her into a good tree which brought forth good fruit in abundance. St. Luke tells us that she was a sinner and that she was well known as such in the whole city of Jerusalem. I recommend that you consider what significance those words, which came from the lips of Jesus Christ Himself, have for us. Here was a young girl born with the strongest passions, extraordinary beauty, great wealth-that is to say, with that which not merely kindles the passions but which nourishes and feeds them continually.

She was greatly attracted by the pleasures of the world, she had a very strong taste for fashion and a great desire to look beautiful, so that her thoughts and all her cares were employed towards that end. A far from modest air proclaimed openly that her innocence would suffer a speedy shipwreck. Vain and frivolous, the object of admiration by worldlings, she sought all the more to please them, either with provocative glances fired by an impure heart or with her seductive ways and the self-indulgent air which she displayed so brazenly. All of this told a tale of a tree that could only bear plenty of bad fruit. She received with incredible complaisance the gross glances of the worldlings. She accepted with much self-gratification the silly homage of men. She loved, with more than ordinary enjoyment, to move in the well-to-do social circles of her day.

Since she was of great beauty and possessed very considerable wealth, was young and graceful to behold, everyone had, it seemed, eyes and thought for her alone. Dances, spectacles, and the desire to attract and please everyone were all she cared about. If she appeared among the faithful, in the places chosen for prayer, she did so quite eagerly, not to weep for her sins, as she should have been doing, but, rather, to take her place there as the center of attraction that she usually was, to see and-even more-to be seen, and to be admired. Acting thus, it seemed as if she would like to contest with God Himself for men’s hearts and the honour which was due Him alone. She went so far that she finished by becoming a subject of scandal throughout the whole city of Jerusalem. The assignations with the young men, the embraces, the far from modest conversations, the depravities to which she surrendered herself, ended by making her come to be looked upon as a young woman of very evil life. She finished by being avoided and despised by all those of any standing. She was called a sinful and scandalous woman by everyone in the city. You will admit that here, indeed, was a bad tree. If you have gone as far as she did, there are few who have passed her up.

Alas, my friends, what a crop of pride was not borne by that head dressed and ornamented with so much care! What fruits of depravity were not produced in that corrupt heart consumed by an impure fire! And so equally with all the other passions which dominated her. I think, my dear brethren, that it would be difficult to find a more evil tree. Yet, my dear brethren, you shall see that, if we are willing to avail ourselves of the grace which is never lacking to us, any more than it was to Mary Magdalen, miserable though we may be, we can change our tree, which up to now has been bearing only bad fruit. We can make it bear good fruit if we will but make use of the grace which comes to our help. From being bad Christians, we can become good and bear fruit worthy of eternal life, as we shall see by the conversion of Mary Magdalen. St. Jerome tells us that while Mary Magdalen was thus abandoned to all her passionate and undisciplined ways of living, the stories of so many miracles worked by our Saviour in curing the sick and raising the dead to life were filling all Judea with astonishment. Everyone was eager to see so extraordinary a man.

Mary Magdalen, happily for herself, was one of this number. The first words which she heard falling from the “lips of our Saviour were those of the Parables of the Prodigal Son and of the Good Shepherd. She recognised herself exactly in this young man and she also recognised our Saviour as the Good Shepherd.

The shafts of grace were so lively and so penetrating that she could not help but feel their effects. As the words continued, she felt herself moved to tears. The many miracles that she herself had seen and heard filled her with astonishment, and grace completed the work of changing her, of converting her from a really bad tree into a wonderfully good tree which would bring forth excellent fruit. But what completed the work of detaching her from herself and from sin, the work of breaking through all that held her to these, was the great generosity of God towards sinners. Ah, my dear brethren, how powerful grace is when it finds a heart well disposed! Look at her who began by neither thinking nor acting, but grace pursued her, remorse of conscience tormented her, she felt her heart break with sorrow for her sins. Her eyes, which previously had been so bright with the fire of impurity, which she knew so well how to kindle in the hearts of others, began to shed bitter tears.

Since her heart had first tasted the pleasures of the world, she wished it to be the first to feel all the regret for having done evil. From that time, the world of society, which hitherto had held all her pleasure and happiness, could now only weary and disgust her more and more. She discovered that her only happiness lay in being separated from the world and in retirement where she could reflect and shed tears freely.

The more she thought upon the kind of life she had been leading up to then, the outrages she had committed against God, and the number of souls she had lost by her bad life, the more acutely was her heart pierced by sorrow. Such self-love, such proud self-gratification as she had taken in her great beauty, all that worldly homage which had so flattered her-all that now was nothing more to her than a senseless vanity and a kind of idolatry. That vulgar luxury, the worldly amusements which she had always looked upon as the privileges of her age and of her sex, were now in her eyes only a pagan way of living and a real apostasy of her religion. Those passionate sentiments, those indecent liberties, those tender attachments, previously so dear to her heart, and all those mysteries of iniquity, now seemed but crimes and abominations. She realised, as she wept freely and abundantly, that if God had graced her with so many gifts, He had done so but to make her more pleasing to Him. She was therefore the more intensely ashamed of her ingratitude and rebellion.

During these struggles with herself, she learned that a distinguished Pharisee was enjoying the good fortune of entertaining our Saviour at his house. She recalled all that she had heard our Lord saying. Yes, she said to herself, I can no longer doubt but that this is the good and charitable Shepherd and that I am but the lost sheep. Ah, she cried, it was I that He meant when He spoke of that prodigal son. So I will rise up and I will go to find Him! Indeed, unable to contain herself, she started up at once, spurning all her finery and her vanities. She ran, or, rather, the grace with which her heart was already on fire hurried her along. Casting aside all human respect, she entered into the banqueting hall with a downcast air, her hair, previously so beautifully dressed and curled, now quite dishevelled, her eyes lowered and bathed in tears, her face blushing and ashamed.

She threw herself at the feet of the Saviour, Who was at the table.” Ah, Magdalen, Magdalen!” cries a Father of the Church, “What are you doing and what have you become? Where are all those pleasures, that vanity and that worldly love?” No, no, my dear brethren, here no longer is Magdalen the sinner, but Magdalen the penitent and the faithful lover of our Lord. Yes, my dear brethren, it was at this moment that everything changed within her. If she had lost so many souls by a life which had been so scandalous, she is now, by her penitent life, going to win even more than those she has lost. She has nothing of human respect left, she accuses herself publicly of her sins before a large assembly, she embraces the feet of our Saviour, bathes them with her tears, dries them with her hair. No, no, my dear brethren, Magdalen is no longer Magdalen but a holy lover of God! “No, no, my brethren,” St. Augustine says to us, “in Magdalen there is no more vanity, no more pleasure loving,no more worldly love, all is holy and pure in her.”

“Yes, my dear brethren,” this great saint tells us, “those exquisite perfumes which she had given entirely to luxury, that magnificent head of hair so carefully dressed and ornamented, those beautiful eyes animated with such a dangerous fire, all that is now purified in her tears.” “Ah! my dear brethren,” he says to us, “who could tell us what passes in her heart? Everyone of those who were witnesses of this generous gesture turns it into ridicule, treats her as deranged, blames and condemns her, except Jesus Christ Himself, Who knows so well that it is His grace which has done all for her.”

He is so touched by it that He says nothing to her of her sins. But He takes a particular pleasure in praising her for the kindness she has done to Him, and that in front of all the assembled guests: “Go in peace,” He said to her tenderly, “thy sins are forgiven thee.”

Since your soul is as precious in God’s eyes as that of Mary Magdalen’s, you can be quite sure, my dear brethren, that grace will never be wanting to you to convert you and to help you to persevere.

WHERE ARE YOU GOING?

Ah, who would not be touched?. . . . A God who weeps with so many tears at the loss of one soul and Who cries unceasingly: My friend, my friend, why proceedest thou thus to lose thy soul and thy God? Stop! Stop! Ah! Look at my tears, my Blood which flows yet. Must I die a second time to save thee? Look at me. Ah! Angels from Heaven descend upon earth, come and weep with me for the loss of this soul! Oh, that a Christian should be so unfortunate as to persevere still in running towards the abyss despite the voice which his God causes him to hear continually! But, you may say to me, no one says these things to us. Oh my friends, unless you want to stop up your ears, you will hear the voice of God, which follows you unceasingly. Tell me, my friends, then, what is this remorse of conscience which overwhelms you in the midst of sin? Why do these anxieties and storms agitate you? Why this fear, this dread that you are in, when you seem to be forever expecting to be crushed by the thunders of Heaven? How many times, even when you were sinning, have you not experienced the touch of an invisible hand which seemed to push you away, as if someone were saying: Unhappy man, what are you doing? Unhappy man, where are you going? Ah my son, why do you wish to damn yourself?. . . .

Would you not agree with me that a Christian who despises so many graces deserves to be abandoned and rejected because he has not listened to the voice of God or profited by His graces? On the contrary, my dear brethren, it is God Himself Who is scorned by this ungrateful soul who would seem to wish to put Him to death again. All creation demands vengeance, and it is, in fact, God alone Who wishes to save this soul and Who is opposed to all that could be prejudicial to it.

He watches over its salvation as if it were the only soul in the world.

ANNUAL CONFESSIONS

If Easter were prolonged to Pentecost, you would not go to Confession until Pentecost, or if the latter did not come around for ten years, you would go to Confession only every ten years. Indeed, if the Church did not give you a commandment about it, you would not go to Confession until death. What do you think of that, my dear brethren? Does it not mean that you have neither regret for having offended God, Who requires you to go to Confession, nor love for God, Who requires you to make your Easter Communion? Ah you will say to me, that’s all very well. We do not make our Easter duty without knowing why.

Ah! You know nothing at all about it! You do it from habit, to be able to say you have made your Easter duty, or, if you would prefer to speak the truth, you would say that you have added a new sin to your old ones. It is not, therefore, either love of God or regret for having offended Him which makes you go to Confession or make your Easter duty, or even the desire to lead a more Christian life. And here is the proof of it: if you loved God, would you consent to commit sin with such ease, and even with so much enjoyment? If you had a horror of sin, as you should have, would you be able to keep it for a whole year on your conscience? If you had a real desire to live a more Christian life, would we not see at least some little change in your way of living? No, my dear brethren, I do not wish to talk to you today about those unfortunate people who tell only half their sins through fear of not making their Easter duty or of being refused Absolution-perhaps even for the sake of covering up their shameful lives with the veil of virtue and who, in this state, approach the altar and are going to complete their dreadful work by handing over their God to the Devil and precipitating their sacrilegious souls into Hell. No, I dare to hope that this does not concern you, but I will continue, nevertheless, to tell you that going to Confession only once a year is not something about which you should feel any peace or satisfaction.

THOUGHTS ABOUT PENANCE

Tell me, my dear brethren, what are the penances that are given to you? Alas! A few rosaries, some litanies, some almsgivings, a few little mortifications. Do all of these things, I ask you, bear any proportion to our sins which deserve eternal punishment? There are some who carry out their penance walking along or sitting down; that is not doing it at all. Unless the priest tells you that you may do it while walking along or sitting down, you should do your penance on your knees. If you do perform your penance while walking along or sitting down, you should confess it and never do it again.

In the second place, unless you are not able to do it as required, in which event you must tell that to your confessor when you go to Confession the next time, I must tell you that the penance should be done within the time indicated; otherwise you commit a sin. For example, the priest might tell you to make a visit to the Blessed Sacrament after the services because he knows that you go around in company which will not bring you any nearer to God; he may order you to mortify yourself in something which you eat because you are subject to gluttony; to make an act of contrition if you have the misfortune to fall back into the sin which you have just confessed. At other times you may wait until the moment when you are ready to go to Confession to do your penance. You understand as well as I do that in all of these instances you are fully at fault and that you should not fail to confess that and that you should never do this again. In the third place, I tell you that you should perform your penance devoutly, that is to say, with reverence and with the sincere intention of giving up the sin. To say your penance reverently, my dear brethren, is to say it with attention to its spiritual importance and with devotion in your hearts. If you have said your penance with wilful distractions, you will not have said it at all and you are obliged to say it again. To perform it devoutly is to perform it with a strong confidence that God will forgive you your sins through the merits of Jesus Christ, Who made satisfaction for us by His sufferings and His death on the Cross. We should perform our penance overwhelmed with joy at being able to satisfy God, Whom we have offended, and at finding such an easy means of effacing our sins which should have earned eternal sufferings for us. Something which you should never forget is that all the time you are fulfilling your penance, you should be saying to God: “My God, I unite this slight penance to that which Jesus Christ my Saviour has offered to You for my sins.” This is what will make your penance meritorious and pleasing to God. I repeat that we should always carry out our penance with the true desire to give up the sin altogether, no matter what it may cost us, even if it involves death itself. If we have not these dispositions, very far from satisfying the justice of God, we will outrage it again, which would make us even more guilty. I have said that we should never content ourselves with the penance which our confessor imposes upon us because it is nothing, or almost nothing, if we compare it with what our sins really deserve. If our confessor is so very lenient with us, it is only lest he might give us a distaste for the work of our salvation. If you really have your salvation at heart, you should impose penances upon yourself.

Choose those which suit your case best. If you have the misfortune to be someone who gives scandal, you should make yourself so watchful of your behaviour that your neighbour will not be able to see anything in your life which would give him anything but good example; you should show by your conduct that your life is truly Christian. If you are one of those unhappy people who sin against the holy virtue of purity, you should mortify that sinful body with fasting, giving it only what it needs to sustain life and to fulfil its functions, from time to time making it sleep upon bare boards. If you are one of those who has to have something to eat which will gratify your gluttony, you should refuse this to your body and despise it as much as you previously loved it. When your body wants to cost you your soul, you must punish it. Your heart, which must often have thought of impure things, has carried your thoughts into Hell, which is the place reserved for the unchaste.

If you are attached to the things of this earth, you should give alms sufficient to enable you to punish your avarice by depriving yourself of all that is not absolutely necessary for life.

If we have been negligent in the service of God, let us impose upon ourselves the penance of assisting at all the exercises of piety which are going on in our parish. I would advise Mass, Vespers, catechism, prayers, the Rosary, so that God, seeing our eagerness, may be good enough to pardon us all our negligences. If we have spare time between the services, let us do some spiritual reading, which will nourish our souls-above all, some reading of the lives of the saints wherein we may see how they behaved in order to sanctify themselves. That will encourage us. Let us make some short visit to the Blessed Sacrament during the week to ask God to pardon the sins we have committed. If we feel ourselves guilty of some fault, let us go and get rid of it so that our prayers and all our good works may be pleasing to God and more advantageous to our souls. Have we the habit of swearing or of flying into rages? Let us go down on our knees to say again this holy prayer: “My God, may your holy name be blessed for ever and ever! My God, purify my heart, purify my lips so that they may never pronounce words which would outrage you and separate me from you!” Any time that you fall into this sin, you should immediately either make an act of contrition or give away something to the poor. Have you been working on Sunday? Have you been buying or selling without necessity in the course of this holy day?

Give to the poor some alms which will exceed the profit you have made. Have you been eating or drinking to excess? In all your meals you should deprive yourself of something.

Such, my dear brethren, are the penances which will not only suffice to make satisfaction to the justice of God, if joined to those of Jesus Christ, but which can even preserve you from falling again into your sins. If you want to conduct yourselves in this way, you will be sure, with the grace of God, of correcting your faults.

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The Sermons of Saint John Mary Vianney No. 7

INDEX

BE RELIGIOUS OR BE DAMNED!

There is always the person who says to me: “What harm can there be in enjoying oneself for a while? I do no wrong to anyone; I do not want to be religious or to become a religious! If I do not go to dances, I will be living in the world like someone dead!”

My good friend, you are wrong. Either you will be religious or you will be damned. What is a religious person? This is nothing other than a person who fulfils his duties as a Christian.

You say that I shall achieve nothing by talking to you about dances and that you will indulge neither more nor less in them.

You are wrong again. In ignoring or despising the instructions of your pastor, you draw down upon yourself fresh chastisements from God, and 1, on my side, will achieve quite a lot by fulfilling my duties. At the hour of my death, God will ask me not if you have fulfilled your duties but if I have taught you what you must do in order to fulfil them. You say, too, that I shall never break down your resistance to the point of making you believe that there is harm in amusing yourself for a little while in dancing? You do not wish to believe that there is any harm in it? Well, that is your affair. As far as I am concerned, it is sufficient for me to tell you in such a way as will insure that you do understand, even if you want to do it all the same. By doing this I am doing all that I should do. That should not irritate you: your pastor is doing his duty. But, you will say, the Commandments of God do not forbid dancing, nor does Holy Scripture, either. Perhaps you have not examined them very closely. Follow me for a moment and you will see that there is not a Commandment of God which dancing does not cause to be transgressed, nor a Sacrament which it does not cause to be profaned.

You know as well as I do that these kinds of follies and wild extravagances are not ordinarily indulged in, but on Sundays and feast days. What, then, will a young girl or a boy do who have decided to go to the dance? What love will they have for God? Their minds will be wholly occupied with their preparations to attract the people with whom they hope to be mixing. Let us suppose that they say their prayers-how will they say them? Alas, only God knows that! Besides, what love for God can be felt by anyone who is thinking and breathing nothing but the love of pleasures and of creatures? You will admit that it is impossible to please God and the world. That can never be. God forbids swearing. Alas! What quarrels, what swearing, what blasphemies are uttered as a result of the jealousy that arises between these young people when they are at such gatherings! Have you not often had disputes or fights there? Who could count the crimes that are committed at these diabolical gatherings? The Third Commandment commands us to sanctify the holy day of Sunday. Can anyone really believe that a boy who has passed several hours with a girl, whose heart is like a furnace, is really thus satisfying this precept? St. Augustine has good reason to say that men would be better to work their land and girls to carry on with their spinning than to go dancing; the evil would be less. The Fourth Commandment of God commands children to honour their parents. These young people who frequent the dances, do they have the respect and the submission to their parents’ wishes which they should have? No, they certainly do not; they cause them the utmost worry and distress between the way they disregard their parents’ wishes and the way they put their money to bad use, while sometimes even taunting them with their old-fashioned outlook and ways. What sorrow should not such parents feel, that is, if their faith is not yet extinct, at seeing their children given over to such pleasures or, to speak more plainly, to such licentious ways?

These children are no longer Heaven-bent, but are fattening for Hell. Let us suppose that the parents have not yet lost the Faith. . . . Alas! I dare not go any further!. . . . What blind parents!. . . . What lost children!. . . . Is there any place, any time, any occasion wherein so many sins of impurity are committed as the dancehalls and their sequels? Is it not in these gatherings that people are most violently prompted against the holy virtue of purity? Where else but there are the senses so strongly urged towards pleasurable excitement? If we go a little more closely into this, should we not almost die of horror at the sight of so many crimes which are committed? Is it not at these gatherings that the Devil so furiously kindles the fire of impurity in the hearts of the young people in order to annihilate in them the grace of Baptism? Is it not there that Hell enslaves as many souls as it wishes? If, in spite of the absence of occasions and the aids of prayer, a Christian has so much difficulty in preserving purity of heart, how could he possibly preserve that virtue in the midst of so many sources which are capable of breaking it down? “Look,” says St. John Chrysostom, “at this worldly and flighty young woman, or rather at this flaming brand of diabolical fire who by her beauty and her flamboyant attire lights in the heart of that young man the fire of concupiscence. Do you not see them, one as much as the other, seeking to charm one another by their airs and graces and all sorts of tricks and wiles? Count up, unfortunate sinner, if you can, the number of your bad thoughts, of your evil desires and your sinful actions. Is it not there that you heard those airs that please the ears, that inflame and burn hearts and make of these assemblies furnaces of shamelessness?”

Is it not there, my dear brethren, that the boys and the girls drink at the fountain of crime, which very soon, like a torrent or a river bursting its banks, will inundate, ruin, and poison all its surroundings? Go on, shameless fathers and mothers, go on into Hell, where the fury of God awaits you, you and all the good actions you have done in letting your children run such risks. Go on, they will not be long in joining you, for you have outlined the road plainly for them. Go and count the number of years that your boys and girls have lost, go before your Judge to give an account of your lives, and you will see that your pastor had reason to forbid these kinds of diabolical pleasures!. . . . Ah, you say, you are making more of it than there really is! I say too much about it? Very well, then. Listen. Did the Holy Fathers of the Church say too much about it? St. Ephraim .tells us that dancing is the perdition of girls and women, the blinding of men, the grief of angels, and the joy of the devils. Dear God, can anyone really have their eyes bewitched to such Ian extent that they will still want to believe that there is no harm in it, while all the time it is the rope by which the Devil pulls the most souls into Hell?. . . . Go on, poor parents, blind and lost, go on and scorn what your pastor is telling you! Go on! Continue the way you are going! Listen to everything and profit nothing by it! There is no harm in it? Tell me, then, what did you renounce on the day of your Baptism? Or on what conditions was Baptism given to you? Was it not on the condition of your taking a vow in the face of Heaven and earth, in the presence of Jesus Christ upon the altar, that you would renounce Satan and all his works and pomps, for the whole of your lives-or in other words that you would renounce sin and the pleasures and vanities of the world? Was it not because you promised that you would be willing to follow in the steps of a crucified God? Well then, is this not truly to violate those promises made at your Baptism and to profane this Sacrament of mercy? Do you not also profane the Sacrament of Confirmation, in exchanging the Cross of Jesus Christ, which you have received, for vain and showy dress, in being ashamed of that Cross, which should be your glory and your happiness?

St. Augustine tells us that those who go to dances truly renounce Jesus Christ in order to give themselves to the Devil.

What a horrible thing that is! To drive out Jesus Christ after having received Him in your hearts! “Today,” says St. Ephraim, “they unite themselves to Jesus Christ and tomorrow to the Devil.” Alas! What a Judas is that person who, after receiving our Lord, goes then to sell Him to Satan in these gatherings, where he will be reuniting himself with everything that is most vicious! And when it comes to the Sacrament of Penance, what a contradiction is such a life! A Christian, who after one single sin should spend the rest of his life in repentance, thinks only of giving himself up to all these worldly pleasures! A great many profane the Sacrament of Extreme Unction by making indecent movements with the feet, the hands and the whole body, which one day must be sanctified by the holy oils. Is not the Sacrament of Holy Order insulted by the contempt with which the instructions of the pastor are considered? But when we come to the Sacrament of Matrimony, alas! What infidelities are not contemplated in these assemblies? It seems then that everything is admissible. How blind must anyone be who thinks there is no harm in it!. . . .

The Council of Aix-la-Chapelle forbids dancing, even at weddings. And St. Charles Borromeo, the Archbishop of Milan, says that three years of penance were given to someone who had danced and that if he went back to it, he was threatened with excommunication. If there were no harm in it, then were the Holy Fathers and the Church mistaken? But who tells you that there is no harm in it? It can only be a libertine, or a flighty and worldly girl, who are trying to smother their remorse of conscience as best they can. Well, there are priests, you say, who do not speak about it in Confession or who, without permitting it, do not refuse absolution for it. Ah! I do not know whether there are priests who are so blind, but I am sure that those who go looking for easygoing priests are going looking for a passport which will lead them to Hell. For my own part, if I went dancing, I should not want to receive absolution not having a real determination not to go back dancing.

Listen to St. Augustine and you will see if dancing is a good action. He tells us that “dancing is the ruin of souls, a reversal of all decency, a shameful spectacle, a public profession of crime.” St. Ephraim calls it “the ruin of good morals and the nourishment of vice.” St. John Chrysostom: “A school of public unchastity.” Tertullian: “The temple of Venus, the consistory of shamelessness, and the citadel of all the depravities.”

“Here is a girl who dances,” says St. Ambrose, “but she is the daughter of an adulteress because a Christian woman would teach her daughter modesty, a proper sense ofshame, and not dancing! “

Alas! How many young people are there who since they have been going to dances do not frequent the Sacraments, or do so only to profane them! How many poor souls there are who have lost therein their religion and their faith! How many will never open their eyes to their unhappy state except when they are falling into Hell!. . . .

YOUR PRAYERS ARE ONLY AN INSULT

There are some who derive satisfaction from the virtues they practice because their tendencies are all that way. For example, a mother will pride herself on the fact that she gives some alms, that she frequents the Sacraments, that she even reads some spiritual books-yet she sees without dismay that her children are keeping away from the Sacraments. Her children do not make their Easter duty, yet this mother, from time to time, gives them permission to go to amusements, to dances, to weddings, and sometimes to the winter gatherings. She loves to see her daughters appearing in public; she thinks that if they do not frequent these places of debauchery, no one will know them and they will not be able to find themselves husbands and homes. Yes, undoubtedly they would be unknown-but only to the libertines. Yes, my dear brethren, they will not find themselves husbands from among those who would treat them like the most wretched slaves. This mother loves to see them well turned out; this mother loves to see them in the company of some young men who are wealthier than they are. After certain prayers and some good works, which certainly she will do, she thinks herself to be on the road to Heaven.

Carry on, my good mother; you are only a blind hypocrite; you have only the appearance of virtue. You set your mind at rest with the thought that you make some visits to the Blessed Sacrament; without any doubt that is a good thing; but your daughter is at a dance; but your daughter is at the cabaret with libertines, and they will be spewing out nothing but one kind or another of indecency; but your daughter, tonight, is in a place where she should not be. Go away, blind and abandoned mother, go out and leave your prayers. Do you not see that you are doing as the Jews did, who bent the knee before Jesus Christ to make a semblance of adoring Him? So, then, you come to adore God, while your children are out to crucify Him.

Poor blind creature, you do not know either what you say or what you do. Your prayers are only an insult which you offer to God. Begin by going to find your daughter, who is losing her soul; then you may return to God to ask Him for your conversion.

A father thinks that it is quite enough to maintain good order in his house; he will not have anyone swearing or using obscene words. That is very good. But he has no scruple about allowing his boys to go to amusements, to fairs, and all sorts of pleasures like that. This same father permits work to be done on Sundays on the slightest pretext, even such as not to go against the wishes of his reapers or his threshers. However, you see him in church adoring God, even prostrate before Him: he is trying to avoid the slightest distraction. But tell me, my friends, how do you suppose God can look upon such people as that? Carry on, my poor friend, you are blind. Go and learn your duties and then you may come to offer your prayers to God. Do you not see that you are doing the work of Pontius Pilate, who recognised Jesus Christ and who yet condemned Him? You will see this other man, who is charitable, who gives alms, who is touched by the poverty of his neighbour. That is quite good. But he allows his children to live in the greatest ignorance. Perhaps they do not even know what they should do in order to be saved. Go along, my poor man. You are blind. Your alms and your sympathy are leading you, with great steps, straight to Hell. Here is another who has plenty of good qualities. He likes to help everyone. But he cannot tolerate his unfortunate wife or his poor children, upon whom he heaps insults, and possibly even ill-treats. Carry on, my friend, your religion is worth nothing.

This one thinks that he is quite good because he is not a blasphemer or a thief, or even unchaste, but he goes to no trouble at all to correct those thoughts of hatred, of revenge, of envy, and of jealousy which fill his soul almost every day. My friend, your religion can only ruin you.

We see others, too, who are all full of pious practices, who become full of scruples at omitting some prayers they usually say. They would think themselves lost if they were not at Holy Communion on certain days when they have the habit of receiving, but trifles make them impatient and grumblers. A mere word which they did not care for will fill them with coldness and dislike. They will have difficulty in being civil to their neighbour; they will want to have nothing to do with him; on different pretexts, they will avoid his company; they will find that someone has been behaving badly in respect of them.

Go away, you poor hypocrites, go and become converted; after that you may have recourse to the Sacraments, which, in your state, without knowing it, you are only profaning with your wrongly understood devotion.

PURITY IS NOT KNOWN

Alas, my dear brethren, how little purity is known in the world; how little we value it; what little care we take to preserve it; what little zeal we have in asking God for it, since we cannot have it of ourselves. No, my dear brethren, it is not known to those notorious and seasoned libertines who wallow in and trail through the slime of their depravities, whose hearts are. . . . roasted and burned by an impure fire. . . . [sentence incomplete—Trans.] Alas, very far from seeking to extinguish it, they do not cease to inflame it and to stir it up by their glances, their desires, and their actions. What state will such a soul be in when it appears before its God! Purity! No, my dear brethren, this beautiful virtue is not known by such a person whose lips are but an opening and a supply pipe which Hell uses to vomit its impurities upon the earth and who subsists upon these as upon his daily bread. Alas! That poor soul is only an object of horror in Heaven and on earth! No, my dear brethren, this gracious virtue of purity is not known to those young men whose eyes and hands are defiled by glances and. . . . [sentence incomplete—Trans.] Oh God, how many souls does this sin drag down to Hell!. . . . No, my dear brethren, this beautiful virtue is not known to those worldly and corrupt girls who make so many preparations and take so many cares to draw the eyes of the world towards themselves, who by their affected and indecent dress announce publicly that they are evil instruments which Hell makes use of to ruin souls- those souls which cost so much in labours and tears and torments to Jesus Christ!. . . .

Look at them, these unfortunates, and you will see that a thousand devils surround their heads and their breasts. Oh, my God, how can the earth support such servants of Hell? An even more astounding thing to understand is how their mothers endure them in a state unworthy of a Christian! If I were not afraid of going too far, I would tell those mothers that they are worth no more than their daughters.

Alas! This sinful heart and those impure eyes are but sources of poison which bring death to anyone who looks at or listens to them. How do such monsters of iniquity dare to present themselves before a God Who is so holy and so set against impurity! Alas! Their poor lives are nothing but an accumulation of fuel which they amass to increase the flames of Hell through all eternity. But, my dear brethren, let us leave a subject which is so disgusting and so revolting to a Christian, whose purity should imitate that of Jesus Christ Himself, and let us return to our beautiful virtue, which raises us to Heaven, which opens to us the adorable Heart of our Lord and draws down upon us all sorts of spiritual and temporal blessings. . . .

St. James tells us that this virtue comes from Heaven and that we shall never have it unless we ask it of God. We should, therefore, frequently ask God to give us purity in our eyes, in our speech, and in all our actions. . . . Finally, we should have a great devotion to the Blessed Virgin if we wish to preserve this lovely virtue; that is very evident, since she is the queen, the model, and the patron of virgins. . . .

THE SERVICE OF THE BLESSED VIRGIN

If I wanted to, I would show you that in all walks of life there have been great servants of the Blessed Virgin. I would find for you, among them, those who begged their bread from door to door. I would find for you, among them, those who lived in much the same sort of state in life as many of you. I would find them for you among the wealthy, and in great number, too. We read in the Gospel that our Lord always treated people with great tenderness, except for one type of people whom He treated with severity; these were the Pharisees, and they were so treated because they were proud and hardened in sin. They would willingly have hindered, if they could, the accomplishment of the will of the Father. What is more, our Lord called them “whited sepulchers, hypocrites, brood of vipers, offspring of vipers, who devour the breasts of their mothers.” We can say the same thing on the subject of devotion to the Blessed Virgin. All Christians have a great devotion to Mary except those old and hardened sinners who, for a very long time, having lost the faith, wallow in the slime of their brute passions.

The Devil tries to keep them in this state of blindness until that moment when death opens their eyes. Ah! If they had but the happiness to have recourse to Mary they would not fall into Hell, as will happen to them! No, my dear children, let us not imitate such people! On the contrary, let us follow the footsteps of all those true servants of Mary. Belonging to this number were St. Charles Borromeo, who always said his rosary on his knees. What is more, he fasted on all vigils of the feasts of the Blessed Virgin. He was so careful about saluting her on the stroke of the bell that when the Angelus rang, wherever he was, he went down on his knees, sometimes even in the middle of the road when it was full of mud. He desired that his whole diocese should have a great devotion to Mary and that her name would be uttered everywhere with the utmost respect. He had a number of chapels built in her honour. Now then, my dear brethren, why should not we imitate these great saints who obtained so many graces from Mary to preserve them from sin? Have we not the same enemies to fight, the same Heaven to hope for? Yes, Mary always has her eyes upon us. Do we suffer temptations? Let us turn our hearts towards Mary and we shall be delivered.

OUR INCONSISTENCY

Let us leave, for the moment, that exterior worship which, by a special peculiarity and by an inconsistency full of irreligion, publicly displays your faith and at the same time gives it the lie.

Where is there to be found among you that fraternal charity which, in the principles of your belief, is founded on the most sublime and divine motives? Examine this a little more closely and you will see whether such reproaches are well founded.

Your religion is a beautiful one, the Jews and even the pagans tell us, if you do what you are commanded! Not only are you all brothers, but something even more wonderful: all together, you form the same Body of Jesus Christ, whose Flesh and Blood serve you every day as nourishment; you are all members, one of another. It must be admitted that that article of your faith is admirable indeed; it has something divine about it. If you were to act in accordance with your creed, you would be in a position to draw all other peoples to your religion-it is so beautiful, so consoling, and has the promise of such happiness in the life to come. But what makes all the peoples believe that your religion is not what you say it is, is that your conduct is quite the opposite to what your religion commands you.

If anyone were to question your pastors and if it were lawful for them to reveal the secrets of the confessional, they would be able to show that it is the quarrels, the enmities, the spirit of revenge, the jealousies, the scandals, the false rumours and gossip, the lawsuits, and so many other vices which horrify all those peoples whose religion you say is so far removed from yours in holiness. The corruption of morals, which is rife amongst you, keeps back those who are not of your religion from embracing it because if you were really convinced that it is good and divine, you would surely behave in a different way.

LOVE OF OUR NEIGHBOUR

All of our religion is but a false religion and all our virtues are mere illusions and we ourselves are only hypocrites in the sight of God if we have not that universal charity for everyone, for the good and for the bad, for the poor people as well as for the rich, for all those who do us harm as much as for those who do us good.

No, my dear brethren, there is no virtue which will let us know better whether we are the children or God than charity.

The obligation we have to love our neighbour is so important that Jesus Christ put it into a Commandment which He placed immediately after that by which He commands us to love Him with all our hearts. He tells us that all the law and the prophets are included in this commandment to love our neighbour. Yes, my dear brethren, we must regard this obligation as the most universal, the most necessary and the most essential to religion and to our salvation. In fulfilling this Commandment, we are fulfilling all others. St. Paul tells us that the other Commandments forbid us to commit adultery, robbery, injuries, false testimonies. If we love our neighbour, we shall not do any of these things because the love we have for our neighbour would not allow us to do him any harm.

WHO HAS CHARITY?

Ah, dear lord, how Christians are damned through lack of charity! No, no, my dear brethren, even if you could perform miracles, you will never be saved if you have not charity. Not to have charity is not to know your religion; it is to have a religion of whim, mood, and inclination. Carry on, carry on, you are only hypocrites and outcasts! Without charity you will never see God, you will never go to Heaven!. . . .

Give away your wealth, give generous alms to those who love you or who please you, go to Mass every day, go to Holy Communion every day if you wish: you are only hypocrites and outcasts. Continue on your way and you will shortly be in Hell!. . . . You cannot endure the faults of your neighbour because he is too tiresome; you do not like his company. Go away, unhappy people, you are but hypocrites, you have only a false religion, which, whatever good you are doing, will lead you to Hell. Oh my God! How rare this virtue is! Alas! It is so rare that they are rare, too, who will be going to Heaven! I don’t want even to see them, you will say. At the church they distract me with all their mannerisms. Ah, unhappy sinner, say rather that you have no charity and that you are but a miserable creature who loves only those who agree with your sentiments and enter into your interests, who never go against you in anything, who flatter you on the subject of your good works, who love to thank you for your kindnesses, and who give you plenty of attention and recognition.

You will do everything for such as these; you do not even mind depriving yourself of some necessity to help them. But if they treated you with contempt or returned your kindness with ingratitude, you would no longer love them. You would never wish to lay eyes upon them. You would avoid their company. You would be very happy to cut short any dealings you have with them. Ah, dear God, what false devotions these are which can only lead us to a place among the outcasts.

If you have any doubt of this, my dear brethren, listen to St. Paul, who will not lead you astray. If, he tells us, I should give my wealth to the poor, if I should work miracles by raising the dead to life, and have not charity, I am nothing other than a hypocrite.

But to convince you even more firmly of it, go over the whole of the Passion of our Lord Jesus Christ. Consult all the lives of the saints; you will find nothing in them which does not conform with this virtue. No, you will not find one of them who did not choose to do good to someone who had done them harm. Look at St. Francis de Sales, who tells us that if he had only one good work to do, he would choose to do it for someone who had done him some wrong rather than for someone who had done him some good service. Alas, my dear brethren, the person who has no charity goes far afield for evil! If someone does him some harm, you see him examining all his actions then.

He judges them. He condemns them. He turns them all to evil and is always quite certain that he is right. But, you will tell me, there are plenty of times when you see people doing wrong and you cannot think otherwise. My good friend, because you have no charity, you think that they are doing wrong. If you had charity, you would think quite otherwise because you would always think that you could have been mistaken, as so often happens. And to convince you of this, here is an example which I beg of you never to efface from your minds, above all when you think that your neighbour is doing wrong. It is recounted in the history of the Fathers of the Desert that a hermit named Simeon had remained for many years in solitude when he got the idea of returning to the world. But he asked God that men should never know his intentions during his lifetime. God granted him this grace and he went into the world. He used to pretend to be a fool, and he delivered the possessed from the Devil and he cured the sick. He used to go into the houses of women of evil life and make them swear that they would love him alone, and then he would give them all the money he had. Everyone looked upon him just as a hermit who had become eccentric. They saw him every day, this old man of more than seventy years of age, playing with the children in the streets. At other times he plunged himself into the midst of the public dances, moving around with the crowd while he spoke to them and telling them clearly what wrong they were really doing. But they only looked upon what he said as coming from a fool and simply despised him. At other times he climbed onto the stage and threw stones at all those who were down below. When he saw people who were possessed of the devil he fell in with them and imitated the possessed as if he also were one of them. He was to be seen hurrying into the inns and mixing with the drunkards. In the markets he rolled around on the ground and did a thousand other things which were very extravagant and extraordinary. Everyone condemned and scorned him. Some looked upon him as a fool. Others thought him a libertine and a bad character who deserved only to be locked up. And yet, my dear children, despite all this, he was actually a saint who sought only scorn to win souls to God, even though everyone judged him to be bad. This shows us that although the very actions of our neighbour appear bad to us, we must not, ourselves, judge them to be bad. Often we judge things to be bad while in the sight of God they are not so. . . .

Yes, my dear children, anyone who has charity does not see the faults of his neighbour. . . .

Whoever possesses charity is sure that Heaven is for him!. . . .

That is the happiness which I desire for you.

PRAYING, FASTING, AND PLEASING OURSELVES

My dear brethren, we read in holy Scripture that the Lord, while speaking to His people of the necessity to do good works in order to please Him and to become included in the number of saints, said to them: “The things that I ask are not above your powers; to do them it is not necessary for you to lift yourselves to the clouds nor to cross the seas. All that I command is, so to speak, in your hands, in your hearts, and all around.”

I can easily repeat the very same thing to you, my dear brethren. It is true that we shall never have the happiness of going to Heaven unless we do good works, but let us not be afraid of that, my dear children. What Jesus Christ demands of us are not the extraordinary things or those beyond our powers. He does not require that we should be all day in the church or that we should do enormous penances, that is to say, to the extent of ruining our health, or even to that of giving all our substance to the poor (although it is very true that we are obliged to give as much as we possibly can to the poor, which we should do both to please God, Who commands it, and also to atone for our sins). It is also true that we should practice mortification in many things to make reparation for our sins. There is no doubt but that the person who lives without mortifying himself is someone who will never succeed in saving his soul. There is no doubt but that, although we cannot be all day in the church, which yet should be a great joy for us, we do know very well that we should never omit our prayers, at least in the morning and at night.

But, you will say, there are plenty who cannot fast, others who are not able to give alms, and others who have so much to do that often they have great difficulty in saying their prayers in the morning and at night. How can they possibly be saved, then, if it is necessary to pray continuously and to do good works in order to obtain Heaven?

Because all your good works, my dear brethren, amount to prayer, fasting, and almsdeeds, which we can easily perform as you shall see. Yes, my dear brethren, even though we may have poor health or even be infirm, there is a fast which we can easily perform.

Let us even be quite poor; we can still give alms. And however heavy or demanding our work, we can still pray to Almighty God without interfering with our labours; we can pray night and morning, and even all day long, and here is how we can do it. All the time that we deprive ourselves of anything which it gives us pleasure to do, we are practicing a fast which is very pleasing to God because fasting does not consist solely of privations in eating and drinking, but of denying ourselves that which pleases our taste most. Some mortify themselves in the way they dress; others in the visits they want to make to friends whom they like to see; others in the conversations and discussions which they enjoy. This constitutes a very excellent fast and one which pleases God because it fights self-love and pride and one’s reluctance to do things one does not enjoy or to be with people whose characters and ways of behaving are contrary to one’s own. You can, without offending God, go into that particular company, but you can deprive yourself of it to please God: there is a type of fasting which is very meritorious.

You are in some situation in which you can indulge your appetite? Instead of doing so, you take, without making it obvious, something which appeals to you the least. When you are buying chattels or clothes, you do not choose that which merely appeals to you; there again is a fast whose reward waits for you at the door of Heaven to help you to enter. Yes, my dear brethren, if we want to go about it properly, not only can we find opportunities of practicing fasting every day, but at every moment of the day.

Tell me, now, is there any fasting which would be more pleasing to God than to do and to endure with patience certain things which often are very disagreeable to you? Without mentioning illness, infirmities, or so many other afflictions which are inseparable from our wretched life, how often do we not have the opportunity to mortify ourselves in putting up with what annoys and revolts us? Sometimes it is work which wearies us greatly; sometimes it is some person who annoys us. At another time it may be some humiliation which is very difficult to endure. Well, then, my children, if we put up with all that for God and solely to please Him, these are the fasts which are most agreeable to God and most meritorious in His eyes. You are compelled to work all the year round at very heavy and exacting labor which often seems as if it is going to kill you and which does not give you even the time to draw your breath. Oh, my dear children, what treasures would you be storing up for Heaven, if you so desired, by doing just what you do and in the midst of your labours having the wisdom and the foresight to lift up your hearts to God and say to Him: “My good Jesus, I unite my labours to Your labours, my sufferings to Your sufferings; give me the grace to be always content in the state in which You have placedme! I will bless Your holy Name in all that happens to me!” Yes, my dear children, if you had the great happiness to behave in this way, all your trials, all your labours, would become like most precious fruits which you would offer to God at the hour of your death. That, my children, is how everyone is his own state in life can practice a kind of fasting which is very meritorious and which will be of the greatest value to him for eternal life.

I have been telling you, too, that there is a certain type of almsgiving which everyone can perform. You see quite well that almsgiving does not consist solely in feeding those who are hungry and giving clothes to those who have none. It consists in all the services which one renders to a neighbour, whether of body or soul, when they are done in a spirit of charity. When we have only a little, very well, let us give a little; and when we have nothing, let us lend if we can. If you cannot supply those who are sick with whatever would be good for them, well then, you can visit them, you can say consoling words to them, you can pray for them so that they will put their illness to good use. Yes, my dear children, everything is good and precious in God’s sight when we act from the motives of religion and of charity because Jesus Christ tells us that a glass of water would not go unrewarded. You see, therefore, my children, that although we may be quite poor, we can still easily give alms. I told you that however exacting our work was, there is a certain kind of prayer which we can make continually without, at the same time, upsetting our labours, and this is how it is done.

It is seeking, in everything we do, to do the will of God only. Tell me, my children, is it so difficult to seek only to do the will of God in all of our actions, however small they may be? Yes, my children, with that prayer everything becomes meritorious for Heaven, and without that will, all is lost. Alas! How many good things, which would help us so well to gain Heaven, go unrewarded simply by not doing our ordinary duties with the right intention!

DO YOU WANT TO BE HAPPY?

Why, my dear brethren, are our lives full of so many miseries? If we consider the life of man carefully, it is nothing other than a succession of evils: the illnesses, the disappointments, the persecutions, and indeed the losses of goods fall unceasingly upon us so that whatever side the worldly man turns to or examines, he finds only crosses and afflictions. Go and ask anyone, from the humblest to the greatest, and they will all tell you the same thing. Indeed, my dear brethren, man on earth, unless he turns to the side of God, cannot be other than unhappy. Do you know why, my friends? No, you tell me. Well, here is the real reason.

It is that God, having put us into this world as into a place of exile and of banishment, wishes to force us, by so many evils, not to attach our hearts to it but to aspire to greater, purer, and more lasting joys than those we can find in this life. To make us appreciate more keenly the necessity to turn our eyes to eternal blessings, God has filled our hearts with desires so vast and so magnificent that nothing in creation is capable of satisfying them. Thus it is that in the hope of finding some pleasure, we attach ourselves to created objects and that we have no sooner possessed and sampled that which we have so ardently desired than we turn to something else, hoping to find what we wanted. We are, then, through our own experience, constrained to admit that it is but useless for us to want to derive our happiness here below from transient things. If we hope to have any consolation in this world, it will only be by despising the things which are passing and which have no lasting value and in striving towards the noble and happy end for which God has created us. Do you want to be happy, my friends? Fix your eyes on Heaven; it is there that your hearts will find that which will satisfy them completely.

All the evils which you experience are the real means of leading you there. That is what I am going to show you, in as clear and brilliant way as shines the noon-day sun. First of all, I am going to tell you that Jesus Christ, by His sufferings and His death, has made all our actions meritorious, so that for the good Christian there is no motion of our hearts or of our bodies which will not be rewarded if we perform them for Him.

Perhaps you are already thinking: “That is not so very clear.”

Very well! If that will not do you, let us put it more simply. Follow me for a moment and you will know the way in which to make all your actions meritorious for eternal life without changing anything in your way of behaving. All you have to do is to have in view the object of pleasing God in everything you do, and I will add that instead of making your actions more difficult by doing them for God, you will make them, on the contrary, much more pleasant and less arduous. In the morning, when you awake, think at once of God and quickly make the Sign of the Cross, saying to Him: “My God, I give you my heart, and since You are so good as to give me another day, give me the grace that everything I do will be for Your honour and for the salvation of my soul.”

THE GIFT OF EVERY DAY

Before beginning your work, my dear brethren, never fail to make the Sign of the Cross. Do not imitate those people without religion who dare not do this because they are in company. Offer quite simply all your difficulties to God and renew from time to time this offering, for by that means you will have the happiness of drawing down the blessing of Heaven on yourself and on all you do. Just think, my dear brethren, how many acts of virtue you can practice by behaving in this way, without making any change in what you are actually doing. If you work with the object of pleasing God and obeying His Commandments, which order you to earn your bread by the sweat of your brow, that is an act of obedience. If you want to expiate your sins, you are making an act of penance. If you want to obtain some grace for yourself or for others, it is an act of hope and of charity. Oh, how we could merit Heaven every day, my dear brethren, by doing just our ordinary duties, but by doing them for God and the salvation of our souls! Who stops you, when you hear the chimes striking, from thinking on the shortness of time and of saying in your minds: “Time passes and death comes closer.

I am hastening towards eternity. Am I really ready to appear before the tribunal of God? Am I not in a state of sin?”

THE PUBLIC CROSSES

I am going to talk to you now about the public crosses, and I am going to give you the reason for their number, for the blessings which flow from them, and for the great honour which the Church pays them. If our interior crosses are so numerous and if the public crosses, these images of that Cross on which our God died, are also so numerous, it is that we may have always present in our thoughts the reminder that we are the children of a crucified God. We need not be surprised, my dear brethren, at the honour which the Church pays to this holy wood, which obtains for us so many graces and so many benefits. We see that the Church makes the Sign of the Cross in all her ceremonies, in the administration of all the Sacraments. Why is that? My friends, this is why. It is because all our prayers and all the Sacraments draw from the Cross their power and their virtue. During the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass, which is the greatest, the most solemn and the most sublime of all those actions which can glorify God, the priest makes the Sign of the Cross over and over again. God desires that we may never lose the memory of it as the surest means of our salvation and the most formidable instrument for repelling the Devil. He has created us in the form of a cross so that every man might be the image of this cross upon which Jesus Christ died to save us. See how eager the Church is to increase their number? She urges them as a special embellishment on our churches and on all altars; she places them in the most public places.

THE CROSSES WHICH ARE WORN

Why are crosses placed near towns and villages? It is to show the public profession which the Christian 1?should make of the religion of Jesus Christ and to remind all passers-by that they should never forget the memory of the Passion and death of our Saviour. This sign of redemption distinguishes us from idolaters, as in olden times circumcision distinguished the Jewish people from the infidels. Let us note, too, that when people want to destroy religion, they begin by overturning these monuments.

The first Christians considered that their greatest happiness was to wear upon themselves this salutary sign of our Redemption. In other times, the women and girls wore a cross which they made their most precious ornament; they hung it around their necks, showing thereby that they were the servants of a crucified God. But progressively, as the Faith diminished and as religion became weakened, this sacred sign has become rare or, to be more precise, has practically disappeared. Notice how the Devil works gradually towards evil. In this matter it began by the cutting out of the image of the Crucified and of the Blessed Virgin, and by the wearers’ being satisfied with a cross which had been converted into ornamental forms. After that the Devil pushed the matter further: to replace this sacred sign, a chain was chosen, which was nothing more nor less than an ornament of vanity and which, very far from drawing down blessings from Heaven upon the wearers, involved them only in the ways and the traps of the Devil. Look at the difference between a chain and a cross. By the Cross, we have become children of freedom; by the Cross, Jesus has delivered us from the tyranny of the Devil into which sin had led us. The chain, on the contrary, is a sign of slavery; in other words, by means of this token of vanity, we leave God and give ourselves over to the Devil. Lord! How the world has changed since the time of the first Christians.

Ah, how large is the number of those who are no longer Christians except in name and whose conduct resembles that of the pagans! Ah, you will say to me, that is a bit strong now! We are not sorry that we are Christians; on the contrary. Tell us what you mean by saying that we have no more than the name of Christians. Well, my friends, that is very easy. It is because you are afraid to perform your acts of religion in front of other people and that, when you are in a house, you do not dare to make the Sign of the Cross before eating, or else that, in order to make it, you will turn away so that you will not be noticed and laughed at. It is because, when you hear the Angelus ringing, you pretend not to have heard it and you do not say it for fear of someone making fun of you; or again, it is when God puts into your mind the thought of going to Confession and you say: “Oh, I am not going. They would be laughing at me.” If you behave in this manner, you cannot say that you are Christians. No, my friends, you are, like those Jews of long ago, rejected or, rather, you have separated yourselves. You are nothing but apostates. Your language proves it, and your way of living manifests it equally clearly. Why, my dear brethren, was the name of apostate given to the Emperor Julian? It was given to him, you will tell me, because he was a Christian to begin with but later he lived as the pagans do.

Well, then, my good friends, what difference is there between your conduct and that of the pagans? Do you know what the ordinary vices of the pagans are? Some, corrupted by the hideous vice of impurity, spew from their mouths all sorts of abominations; others, given over to gluttony, seek only tasty food or to fill themselves with wine. The sole preoccupation of their young girls is with clothes and the desire to look attractive to others. What do you think of conduct like that, my dear brethren?

That is the conduct of people who entertain no hope of any other life.

You are quite right. And what difference is there between your life and theirs? If you want to speak frankly, you will admit that there is none and that as a consequence, you are Christians in name only.

Oh, my God! that You have so few Christians to imitate You! Alas! If there are so few of them to wear their cross there will be only few, too, to bless You for all eternity.

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The Sermons of Saint John Mary Vianney No. 8

INDEX

IT IS NECESSARY TO BE CONVERTED

No, my dear brethren, let us never forget that in order to receive Holy Communion it is necessary to be converted and strong in a true resolution to persevere. When Jesus Christ desired to give His Adorable Body and His Precious Blood to His Apostles, in order to teach them how pure one should be before receiving It, He even went so far as to wash their feet. By that He wishes to show us that we can never be purified enough of our sins, even our venial sins. It is true that the venial sin does not make our Communions unworthy, but it is a cause of our profiting hardly at all by such a great blessing and happiness. The proof of that is very clear when you consider how many times we have received Holy Communion during the course of our lives. And have we become any better?. . . . No, not at all, and the real cause of that is that practically all the time we are holding onto our bad habits; we do not break ourselves of any one of them more than another. We have a horror of the big sins which kill our souls, but all those little fits of impatience, those grumblings when some worries or troubles befall us, or some disappointments or setbacks-these mean nothing to us. You will admit that in spite of so many Confessions and Holy Communions, you are always the same, that your Confessions are nothing else, nor have they been for years, than a repetition of the same sins, which, although venial, are none the less damaging to the merit of your Holy Communions. You have been heard to say, with good reason, that you are no better one day than another, but who is stopping you from correcting your faults?. . . . If you are always the same, it is simply because you do not want to make even small efforts to improve yourself. You do not want to endure anything or to be opposed in anything. You would like everyone to be fond of you and to have a good opinion of you, which is a difficult enough thing.

Let us try hard, my dear brethren, to destroy all that could be in the smallest way displeasing to Jesus Christ, and we shall see ho-v our Communions will help us to make great strides towards Heaven. And the more we do this, the more we shall feel ourselves becoming detached from sin and inclining towards God. . . . This is what I desire for you.

HAVE A CLEAN FACE

I have told you that you should have neat and clean clothes. I do not mean expensive clothes, but only ones which are not soiled or torn. That is to say, the clothes should be washed and mended if one has no others. There are some who have nothing to change or who, through laziness, do not do so; they do not change their linen, that is, their shirts. For those who have no other clothes, there is nothing wrong in that.

But those who have, do wrong, for it is lacking in respect to our Lord, Who wishes to come into their hearts. Your hair should be combed and tidy and your face and hands clean. You should never come to the altar without stockings, good or bad.

One should not approve of those young people who, in going up to the altar, appear no differently at that moment than at the time when they are going to a ball or a dance. I do not know how they go to receive a God Who was humbled and despised by all, with such a parade of vanity and style. Dear Lord, what a contradiction this is!. . . .

MODEL YOUR DEATH UPON THAT OF JESUS CHRIST

If we were required to die twice, we could jettison one death. But man dies once only, and upon his death depends his eternity. Where the tree falls, there shall it lie. If, at the hour of his death, someone is living in some bad habit, his poor soul will fall on the side of Hell. If, on the other hand, he is in the state of grace, it will take the road for heaven. Oh, happy road!. . . . Generally speaking, one dies as one has lived. That is one of the great truths which Holy Scripture and the Fathers repeat in many different places. If you live as good Christians, you will be sure to die as good Christians, but if you live badly, you will be sure to die a bad death. The prophet Isaias warns us that the impious man who thinks only of doing evil is in a woeful state, for he will be treated as he deserves. At death he will receive the reward for the work he has done. It is true, however, that sometimes, by a kind of miracle, one may begin badly and finish well, but that happens so rarely that, as St. Jerome puts it, death is generally the echo of life. You think that you will return then to God? No, you will perish in sin. . . .

The Holy Ghost tells us that if we have a friend, we should do him some good before we die. Well, my dear brethren, could one have a better friend than one’s soul? Let us do all the good for it that we can, for at the moment when we would like to do our souls good, we shall be able to do no more!. . . . Life is short. If you defer changing your ways until the hour of your death, you are blind, for you do not know either the time or the place where you will die, perhaps without any assistance. Who knows if you will not go this night, covered in your sins, before the tribunal of Jesus Christ?. . . .

Yes, my dear brethren, as life is, so is death. Do not hope for a miracle, which God but rarely performs. You are living in sin; very well, you will die in sin. . . .

If we desire to die a good death, we must lead a Christian life. And the way for us to prepare for a good death is to model our deaths upon the death of Jesus Christ.

Can the life of the good Christian be anything other than that of a man nailed to the Cross with Jesus Christ?

IF MAN KNEW HIS RELIGION

Neither wealth, nor honours, nor vanity can make a man happy during his life on earth, but only attachment to the service of God, when we are fortune enough to realise that and to carry it out properly. The woman who is held in contempt by her husband is not unhappy in her state because she is held in contempt but because she does not know her religion or because she does not practice what her religion tells her she should do. Teach her religion, and from the moment that you see her practice it, she will cease to complain and to consider herself unhappy. Oh! How happy man would be, even on this earth, if he knew his religion!. . . .

What power that person who is near to God possesses when he loves Him and serves Him faithfully! Alas, my dear brethren, anyone who is despised by worldly people, who appears to be unimportant and humble, look at him when he masters the very will and power of God Himself. Look at a Moses, who compels the Lord to grant pardon to three hundred thousand men who were indeed guilty. Look at Josue, who commanded the sun to stand still and the sun became immobile, a thing which never happened before and which perhaps will never happen again. Look at the Apostles: simply because they loved God, the devils fled before them, the lame walked, the blind saw, the dead arose to life. Look at St. Benedict, who commanded the rocks to stop in their course and they remained hanging in midair. Look at him who multiplied bread, who made water come out of rocks, and who disposed of the stones and the forest as easily as if they were wisps of straw. Look at a St. Francis of Paula who commands the fish to come to hear the word of God and they respond to his call with such loyalty that they applaud his words. Look at a St. John who commands the birds to keep silent and they obey him. Look at many others who walk the seas without any human aid. Very well! Now take a look at all those impious people and all those famous ones of the world with all their wit and all their knowledge for achieving everything. Alas! Of what are they really capable? Nothing at all.

And why not? Unless it is because they are not attached to the service of God. But how powerful and how happy at the same time is the person who knows his religion and who practices what it commands.

Alas, my dear brethren, the man who lives according to the direction of his passions and abandons the service of God is both unhappy and capable of so little! Put an army of one hundred thousand men around a dead man and let them employ all their power to bring him back to life. No, no, my dear children, he will not come to life again. But let someone who is despised by the world, but who enjoys the friendship of God, command this dead man to take up life again; immediately you will see him arise and walk. We have other proofs of this, too. If it were necessary to be wealthy or to be very learned to serve God, a great many people would be unable to do it. But, no, my dear children, extensive learning or great wealth are not at all necessary for the service of God. On the contrary, they are often a very big obstacle to it. Yes, my dear brethren, let us be rich or poor, in whatever state we may be, learned or otherwise, we can please God and save our souls. . . .

Listen to me for one moment and you will see that only the service of God will console us and make us happy in the midst of all the miseries of life. To accomplish it, you do not need to leave either your belongings, or your parents, or even your friends, unless they are leading you to sin. You have no need to go and spend the rest of your lives in the desert to weep there for your sins. If that were necessary for us, indeed, we should be very happy to have such a remedy for our ills. But no, a father and a mother of a family can serve God by living with their children and bringing them up in a Christian way. A servant can very easily serve God and his master, with nothing to stop him. No, my dear brethren, the way of life which means serving God changes nothing in all that we have to do. On the contrary, we simply do better all the things we must do.

THOUGHTS ON THE WAY TO CHURCH

When our duty calls us to a holy place, might not anyone say that we resemble criminals being led before their judges to be condemned to the worst possible tortures, rather than Christians whom love alone should lead to God? How very blind we are, my dear brethren, to have so little heart for the things of Heaven, while at the same time we are so taken up with the things of the world! Indeed, when it is a question of temporal matters or even of pleasures, everyone will be preoccupied with them. They will think about them in advance. They will meditate upon them.

But, unfortunately, when the question is one of the service of our God and the salvation of our poor souls the whole thing becomes a matter of routine and inconceivable indifference.

Suppose someone wants to speak to a very important or influential person and to ask him some favour. He will dwell upon the matter for a long time in advance. He will consult others whom he thinks better educated or more experienced than himself in order to find out in what way he should approach this person. He will appear before him with that modest and respectful bearing which, generally speaking, the presence of such a personage inspires. But when he comes into the house of God, ah, there is no more of that sort of thing. No one thinks then of what he is about to do or of what he is about to ask of God. Tell me, my dear brethren, who is there who, as he is going along to the church, is saying to himself: Where am I going?

Is it to the house of a man or to the palace of a king? Oh, no, it is into the house of my God, into the dwelling place of Him Who loves me more than Himself, since He died for me, Whose compassionate eyes are aware of my actions, Whose ears are attentive to my prayers, always ready to hear my prayers and to forgive. Filled with these blessed thoughts, why would we not exclaim with the holy King David: “O my soul, rejoice that you are about to enter the house of the Lord,” to give Him your homage, to show Him your needs, to listen to His divine words, to ask Him for His graces.

Oh what things I have to say to Him, what graces I have to ask of Him, what gratitude I have to pay Him! I will speak to Him of all my worries, and I know that He will console me. I will admit my faults to Him, and He will forgive me. I am going to talk to Him of my family, and He will bless it with all sorts of mercies. Yes, my God, I shall adore You in Your holy temple, and I shall return from there filled with all sorts of benedictions.

Tell me, my dear brethren, is that the sort of thought which occupies you when your religious duties call you to church?

Are those indeed the thoughts you have, after having wasted the entire morning in discussing your sales and your purchases, or at the least, some other entirely useless matters? You come along in a hurry to hear a Mass which often is half-finished.

Alas! If I dare to put into words how many go to visit the god of drunkenness before their Creator; and, coming to church full of wine, they will talk and concern themselves with temporal matters right up to the very door! Oh! Dear God! Are these Christians, who ought to be living like angels upon earth? What of you, my good woman, are your thoughts any better now that you have occupied your mind and part of your time in thinking how you were going to dress, so that you might please the people you know; and then you come to a place where you should come only to lament for your sins? Indeed, too often the priest is ascending the altar while you are still turning around and around, looking at yourself in front of a mirror. Ah, dear God! Are these really Christians who have taken You for their Model, You, Whose whole life was spent amidst scorn and tears? Listen, my dear young lady, to what St. Ambrose, the Bishop of Milan, has to teach you. As he was in the doorway of the church one day and saw a young person approaching dressed with the greatest of care, he spoke to her.” Where are you going, young woman?” he asked. She told him that she was going to church.” You are going to the church,” the holy Bishop said to her, “but one might rather think that you are going to the dance or to a play or a spectacle.

Go away, sinful woman, and weep for your sins in secret, and do not come to the church to insult with your frivolous adornments a crucified God.”

Dear Lord! How our century has provided us with. . . . [sentence incomplete—Trans.] How many people when they are coming to the church think of nothing else except themselves and their clothes and styles.

They enter the temple of the Lord saying from the depths of their hearts: “Have a good look at me.” When we see such wrong dispositions, how can we help but shed tears?

And you, fathers and mothers, what are your dispositions when you come to church, to the Mass? Alas! We must admit it with sorrow that most frequently the fathers and mothers that we see are coming into the church when the priest is already on the altar, or even in the pulpit! Ah, you will tell me, we came as soon as we could. We have other things to do.

Undoubtedly you have other things to do. But I know very well, too, that if you did not leave until Sunday the one hundred and one things in your homes which you should have done on Saturday, and if you had got up a little earlier in the morning, you would have done them all before holy Mass, and you would have arrived at the church before the priest had ascended the altar. It can be the same thing, too, with your children and your servants: if you had not been giving them orders until the very last stroke of the Mass bell, they would have arrived at the church at the beginning. I do not know whether God will receive all these excuses easily; I hardly think so.

But why, my dear brethren, should I speak of particular cases? Surely it is the majority of you who behave in this way.

Yes, when you are called to church so that the graces of God may be administered to you, anyone may see this lack of enthusiasm in you, this indifference, this boredom which consumes you, this practically general inattention. Tell me, where will you see the majority of the general congregation when the services are beginning? Are the Vespers not half said by the time you arrive? We have work to do, you tell me.

Well, my friends, if you were to tell me that you have neither faith, nor love of God, nor the desire to save your poor souls, I would believe you much better. Alas! What can anyone think of all that?. . . . There is a great deal to lament in what is to be seen of the dispositions of the majority of Christians! A great many seem to come to church only in spite of themselves or, if I dare to put it that way, as if someone were dragging them there. From the house to the church, temporal matters only are discussed. A group of young girls together will talk about nothing except style, beauty, and all the rest of it; the young men only of games and amusements or of other matters which are more evil. The fathers or the masters of households will chat about their property or business, about buying and selling. The mothers are preoccupied only with their households and their children. No one will go so far as to deny that. Alas! Not a single thought will be given to the happiness they are about to have, not a single reflection on the needs of their poor souls or those of their children or their servants! They enter the holy temple without respect, without attention, and a great many of them as late as is possible. How many others do not even go to the trouble of coming in at all, but stay outside, in order to find better ways of distracting themselves? The word of God does not trouble their consciences: they look around at those who are coming and going. . . . Dear God! Are these really the Christians for whom You suffered so much in order to make them happy? And this is all they think of it?. . . .

With dispositions like that, how many sins must be committed during the services? How many people must commit more sins on Sunday than during all the rest of the week!. . . .

Listen to what St. Martin has to tell US. . . . While he was singing the Mass with St. Brice, his disciple, he noticed thelatter smiling. After it was all over, he asked him what had made him smile. St. Brice replied: “Father, I saw something extraordinary while we were singing the holy Mass. Behind the altar I saw a devil and he was writing on a huge sheet of parchment the sins which were being committed in the church, and his sheet was rather full before the Mass was finished. So the devil took the sheet of parchment between his teeth and tugged it so hard that he tore it into shreds. That was what made me smile.” What sins, and even mortal sins, we commit during the services by our lack of devotion and recollection! Alas! What has become of those happy times when Christians passed not only the day but even the greater part of the nights in the church, mourning for their sins and singing the praises of God? See, even in the Old Testament, see holy Anna the prophetess, who withdrew into a tribune in order to leave the service of God no more. Look at the holy old man Simeon. See again Zachary and so many others who passed the greater portion of their lives in the service of the Lord. And note, too, how marvellous and how precious were the graces which God bestowed upon them. To reward Anna, God willed that she should be the very; first to recognise our Lord.

The holy old man Simeon was also the first, after St. Joseph, to have the happiness, the very great happiness, of holding the Saviour of the world in his arms. The holy Zachary was chosen to be the father of a child destined to be the ambassador of the Eternal Father in announcing the coming of His Son into the world. What wonderful graces does God not grant to those who make it their duty to come to visit Him in His holy temple as much as they possibly can. . . .

YOU ARE SURPRISED, BUT NOT I!

Why is it, then, you are going to ask me, that we assist at so many Masses and yet we are always the same? Alas, my dear brethren, it is because we are there in body but not in spirit and that rather our coming there completes our condemnation because of the bad dispositions with which we assist. Alas! For all those badly heard Masses which, far from insuring our salvation, harden us the more. When our Lord appeared to St. Mechtilde, He said to her: “Know this, my child, that the saints will assist at the death of all those who have heard Mass devoutly, to help them to die well, to defend them against the temptations of the Devil, and to offer their souls to My Father.” What wonderful happiness for us, my dear brethren, to be helped at this formidable moment by as many saints as we have heard Masses!. . . .

No, my dear children, we need never fear that the Mass hinders us in the fulfilment of our temporal affairs; it is altogether the other way around. We may be sure that all will go better and that even our business will succeed better than if we have the misfortune not to assist at Mass. Here is a splendid example of that. It concerns two artisans who belonged to the same trade and who lived in the same little town. One of them, who had a very large family and never missed hearing Mass every day, lived very comfortably by his trade, but the other, on the contrary, who had no family, worked all day and part of the night, and very often on the holy day of Sunday, and still had the greatest difficulty in the world in making ends meet. The latter, when he saw how well things were going for the other man, asked him one day when he met him how he managed to make enough to maintain so comfortably a family as large as his. As for himself, he said, although there were only his wife and himself and he never stopped working, he was often short of everything. The other replied that if he so wished, he would show him the following day where he made his profit. Delighted with this good news, the unsuccessful artisan could hardly wait until the following day so that he might learn how to make his fortune. True to his word, his friend called for him. So there he was, setting off in great heart and, full of confidence, following his friend who brought him to church, where they heard Mass.

When they came out the friend said, quite at his ease, “You can go back to your work now.” The same thing took place the following day, but on the third day, when the friend came to bring the unsuccessful artisan along to Mass, the latter objected.

“What is all this about?” he asked.” If I want to go to Mass, I know the way without your taking the trouble to come and get me. That is not what I wanted to know, but the place where you find all the money that enables you to live so comfortably. I wanted to see whether, if I did the same as you, I could get something out of it, too.”

“My good friend,” said the other to him, “I do not know any other place than the church, and no other method than that of hearing Mass every day of the week. I assure you that I have never used any other means to acquire the money which surprises you. But have you yourself not seen where Jesus Christ tells us in the Gospel to seek first the kingdom of God and that all the rest will be added unto us?”

Are you surprised at this story, my dear brethren? I am not. It is only what we see every day of our lives in those homes where there is some religion. Those who come often to holy Mass manage their affairs much better than those whose weak faith makes them think that they have no time for Mass. Alas, if only we put all our trust in God and relied on our own efforts for nothing, how much happier we should be than we are!

Yes, you will tell me, but if we have nothing, no one is going to give us anything.

What do you want God to give you when-as is shown by the fact that you do not give even the time to saying your morning and night prayers and that you are quite content to come to Mass once a week-you depend solely on your own efforts and not at all on Him? You have no knowledge of the resources of the providence of God for anyone who confides and trusts in Him. Do you want a more striking proof of this? It is before your eyes. Look at your pastor and examine his case in the light of God’s providence.

Oh, you say, that is because people give to you.

But who gives to me, unless it is the providence of God? That is the source of my treasures and nothing else. Alas, that man should be blind enough to worry and fret so much as to damn himself and yet be quite unhappy in this world. If you have the great happiness to think a lot about your salvation and to assist at holy Mass as much as you can, you will soon see the proof of what I am telling you.

WHEN YOU GO BACK HOME

On her return to her kingdom, the queen of Sheba could never weary of relating all that she had seen in the temple of Solomon; she talked of it unceasingly, with fresh pleasure. The same thing should happen to the Christian who has assisted properly at holy Mass. When he comes back to his house, he ought to have a talk with his children and his servants and ask them what they have retained of it and what touched them most. Alas! Dear God, what am I going to say?. . . . How many fathers and mothers, masters and mistresses are there who, if someone wanted to talk to them about what they had heard at Mass, would laugh at all that and say that they were tired of it, that they knew enough about it. . . . Although generally speaking it seems that people still listen to the holy word of God, the moment they come out of church, they fall into all sorts of careless and frivolous ways. They get up with a sudden rush. They hurry. They jostle at the door. Often the priest has not even come down from the altar when they are already outside the door, and there they give themselves up to discussions upon all sorts of secular subjects.

Do you know what the result of this kind of thing is, my dear brethren? This is it. People derive no profit and gain no benefit from what they have heard and seen in the house of God. What graces have been lost! What means of salvation trodden underfoot! What a misfortune that is, to turn to our loss what should have helped so much to save us! You can see for yourselves how many of these services are a burden to the majority of Christians! For those few moments, they stay in the church as if it were some kind of prison, and as soon as they are out, you will hear them shouting at the door, like prisoners who have been given liberty. Are we not quite frequently obliged to close the door of the church in order not to be deafened by their continual noise?

Dear God, are these really Christians, who ought to leave Your holy temple with minds filled only with all kinds of good thoughts and desires? Should not they be seeking to engrave these in their memory, that they may never lose them and that they may put them into practice as soon as the opportunity presents itself? Alas! The number of those who assist at the services with attention and who try to profit from them is a little like the number of the elect: ah, how small it is!

CLEAR YOUR MINDS

If you desire the worship that you give to God to be pleasing to Him and valuable for the salvation of your soul, put it properly into practice. Begin by preparing for holy Mass as soon as you are awake, uniting yourself to all the Masses which are being said at that moment. When the bell rings to call you to the house of God, consider the fact that it is Jesus Christ Himself calling you. Start out immediately, so that you will have a moment to meditate upon the tremendous act at which you are about to assist. Do not say, like those people who have no religion, that you have plenty of time, that you will be there soon enough. But say, rather, with the Holy Prophet: “I rejoice when I am told that we are going into the house of the Lord.”

When you come out from your home, think about what you are going to do and what you are going to ask of God. Begin by clearing your mind of earthly matters so that you will be thinking of God only. Avoid all sorts of unnecessary conversations which serve no other purpose than to make you hear Mass badly. When you enter the church, recall to yourself what the holy patriarch Jacob said: How awesome is this place! How holy it is! It is truly the house of God and the gateway to heaven! When you get to your place, humble yourself profoundly as you think of your own unworthiness and the greatness of your God, Who, nevertheless, in spite of your sins, wishes to suffer you in His holy presence. Make an act of faith with all your heart. Ask God to give you the grace to lose none of the many favours which He grants to those who come here with good dispositions. Open your heart so that the word of God may enter it, take root in it, and bear fruit there for eternal life. Before leaving the church, do not fail to thank God for the graces He has just given you and go straight home, fully occupied with the thoughts of what you have seen and heard.

Yes, my dear children, if we conducted ourselves in this manner, we should never come away from the services of the Church without being filled with a fresh desire for heaven and a new disgust for ourselves and the things of this earth. Our hearts and our minds would be given over altogether to God and not at all to the world. Then the house of God would truly be for us the gateway to Heaven. That is what I desire for you.

WE ARE KEEPING A FEAST

In the early days of the church, the faithful of one province, or district, used to come together publicly on the feast day of a saint in order to have the happiness of participating in all the graces which God bestows on such days. The office of the vigil was started. The evening and night were spent in prayer at the tomb of the saint. The faithful heard the word of God. They sang hymns and canticles in honour of the saint. After passing the night so devoutly, they heard Mass, at which all those assisting had the happiness of going to Holy Communion. Then they all withdrew, praising God for the triumphs He had accorded the saint and the graces He had bestowed in response to the latter’s intercession. After that, my dear brethren, who could doubt but that God pours out His graces with abundance upon such a reunion of the faithful and that the saints themselves are happy to be the patrons of such people. That was the way in which the feast days of patron saints were celebrated in olden times. What do you think of that? Is it thus that we celebrate such feasts today? Alas! If the first Christians were to come back upon this earth, would they not tell us that our feasts are no different from those that the pagans kept? Is it not the general rule that God is most seriously offended on these holy days? Does it not seem, rather, that we combine our money and our energies together to multiply sin almost to infinity?

What are we concerned with on the vigil of such feasts, and even for several days beforehand? Is it not with spending foolish and unnecessary money? And all this time poor people are dying of hunger and our sins are calling down upon us the anger of God to the point where eternity would not be sufficient to satisfy for them. You should pass the night in repentance and remorse, in considering how very little you have followed the example of your patron saint. And yet you consecrate that time to preparing everything that will flatter your gluttony! Might it not be said that this day is one for pure self-indulgence and debauchery? Do parents and friends come, as in former times, to enjoy the happiness of participating in the graces which God bestows at the intercession of a patron saint? They come, but only to pass this feast day almost wholly at the table. In former times, the religious services were much longer than they are today, and still they seemed always too short. Nowadays you will see even fathers of families who, during the performance of the offices, are at table filling themselves with food and wine. The first Christians invited each other in order to multiply their good works and their prayers. Today it seems rather as if people invite each other so that they can multiply the sins and the orgies and the excesses in which they indulge in eating and drinking. Does anyone think God will not demand an account of even a penny wrongly spent? Does it not seem that we celebrate the feast only to insult our holy Patron and to increase our ingratitude?

Let us look a little closer, my dear brethren, and we shall realise that we are far from imitating Him whom God has given us for a model. He passed His life in penance and in sorrow. He died in torments. What is more, I am sure that there are parishes where more sins are committed on those days than during all the rest of the year. The Lord told the Jews that their feasts were an abomination and that He would take the filth of their feasts and throw it in their faces. He wished to make us understand by this how greatly He is offended on those days which should be passed in weeping for our sins and in prayer. We read in the Gospel that Jesus Christ came on earth to enlighten souls with the fire of divine love. But we can believe that the Devil also roams around on earth to light an impure fire in the hearts of Christians and that w hat he promotes with the greatest frenzy are balls and dances. I have debated for a long time whether I should speak to you about a matter so difficult to get you to understand and so little thought upon by the Christians of our days, who are blinded by their passions. If your faith were not so weak that it might be extinguished in your hearts in the blink of an eye, you would understand the enormity of the abyss towards which you precipitate yourselves in giving yourselves over with such abandon to these wretched amusements. But you will tell me. For you to talk to us about dances and about the evil that takes place at them is just a waste of time. We will indulge neither more nor less in them. I firmly believe that, since Tertullian assures us that very many refused to become Christians rather than deprive themselves of such pleasures.

THE ARMED CROSSES

The sign of the cross is the most terrible weapon against the Devil. Thus the Church wishes not only that we should have it continually in front of our minds to recall to us just what our souls are worth and what they cost Jesus Christ, but also that we should make it at every juncture ourselves: when we go to bed, when we awaken during the night, when we get up, when we begin any action, and, above all, when we are tempted. We can say that a Christian who makes the Sign of the Cross with genuine religious sentiments, that is to say, when fully aware of the action which he is performing, makes all Hell tremble. But when we make the Sign of the Cross, we must make it not by habit but with respect, with attention and thinking of what we are doing. Ah, dear Lord, with what devout awe we should be filled when we make the Sign of the Cross upon ourselves and recall that we are pronouncing all that we hold holy and most sacred in our religion!

THE BELOVED CROSSES

The saints, my dear brethren, all loved the Cross and found in it their strength and their consolation. But, you will say to me, is it necessary, then, always to have something to suffer?. . . . Now sickness or poverty, or again scandal or calumny, or possibly loss of money or an infirmity?

Have you been calumniated, my friends? Have you been loaded with insults? Have you been wronged? So much the better! That is a good sign; do not worry; you are on the road that leads to Heaven. Do you know when you ought to be really upset? I do not know if you understand it, but it should be precisely for the opposite reason-when you have nothing to endure, when everyone esteems and respects you. Then you should feel envious of those who have the happiness of passing their lives in suffering, or contempt, or poverty. Are you forgetting, then, that at your Baptism you accepted the Cross, which you must never abandon until death, and that it is the key that you will use to open the door of Heaven? Are you forgetting the words of our Saviour: “If any man will come after me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross daily, and follow me.” Not for a day, not for a week, not for a year, but all our lives. The saints had a great fear of passing any time without suffering, for they looked upon it as time lost. According to St. Teresa, man is only in this world to suffer, and when he ceases to suffer, he should cease to live. St. John of the Cross asks God, with tears, to give him the grace to suffer more as a reward for all his labours. What should we conclude, my dear children, from all that? Just this: Let us make a resolution to have a great respect for all the crosses, which are blessed, and which represent to us in a small way all that our God Suffered for us. Let us recall that from the Cross flow all the graces that are bestowed upon us and that as a consequence, a cross which is blessed is a source of blessings, that we should often make the Sign of the Cross on ourselves and always with great respect, and, finally, that our houses should never remain without this symbol of salvation.

Fill your children, my dear brethren, with the greatest respect for the Cross, and always have a blessed cross on yourselves; it will protect you against the Devil, from the vengeance of Heaven, and from all danger. This is what I desire for you.

HARVEST CROSSES

Blessed crosses are put in the fields or in open spaces, in places where a crop will be harvested. The purpose of the blessing is to implore God not to turn His merciful eyes away from the fields where they are placed but to spread His blessings there. That, however, is not all there is to planting crosses. It must be done with reverence, with faith, and, above all, it must not be done in a state of sin. You may be quite sure that if you plant them with the right sentiments, God will bless your lands and preserve them from temporal harm. If your crosses do not produce the effect which you should expect from them, it is not difficult to imagine that it is because you went to plant them without faith and without religion. It is because, when you were planting them, you did not perhaps say even an Our Father or a Hail Mary on your knees. Or that, if you did say your prayers, it was possibly with one knee only on the ground. If that is the case, how do you expect God to bless your harvest? But when you find them again. . . . that is indeed another abomination!. . . . Oh, my God! In what a dreadful age do we live!. . . .

When the Church instituted this holy ceremony, everyone longed for the happiness of placing these crosses in his field and behaved with the utmost respect. When they were found, either during the reaping or the vintage, people bowed down to the earth to adore Jesus Christ, Who died on the Cross for us, and in that way they expressed their recognition of the fact that He had desired to bless and preserve their harvest. All, with tears in their eyes, kissed the sacred sign of our Redemption.

Alas, my God, that it is no longer in that way that Christians recognise You! Instead of expressing your gratitude to God for having graciously blessed and preserved the fruits of the earth, do you not, rather, offer Him an insult by laughing when you are kissing the cross? Is it not performing an act of derision, or rather of idolatry, to offer a handful of corn as if you were incensing the person who is holding the cross?

Carry on, unhappy sinners, God will punish you, either in this world or in the next! Fathers of families, have I not been telling you for the past two years that when the time comes for the reaping you should gather up all the crosses which are in your fields in order to save them from profanation? Have I not suggested to you to put them together in your barns and, when you have threshed your corn, to burn them, lest they be profaned? If you have not done that, you are very much to blame, and you must not omit to mention it in Confession. Alas! There is no counting all the horrible things which are done at the time of the harvest or of the vintage, at those very times when God, in His abundance and His love, covers the earth with the gifts of His providence! Ungrateful man seems at that time to redouble his insults and to multiply his crimes. How have you the impertinence to grumble if your harvests are short because the hail or the frost have harmed some of them? Ah, much rather should you be very surprised that, in spite of all your many sins, God still wants to give you the necessities of life and even more than is necessary too! Oh! My God! How mean and blind man is!. . . .

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The Seven Dolour Rosary

MEDITATIONS BY MONSIGNOR JOHN T. MCMAHON

INDEX

GO TO MARY IN HER DOLOURS

MARY’S HEROIC FIAT

AT the Annunciation, Heaven awaited in suspense the decision of Mary, a maid in her teens. No pressure was brought to bear upon her, for the decision had to be hers alone, made freely and willingly. It was not a decision made in the dark, for the Holy Spirit lifted the veil of the future and showed her the terrible cost of her consent. In that mysterious moment, when Mary the Virgin pronounced her all-powerful”Fiat” Be it done unto me, in that moment she saw the whole series of events that were to happen during the entire human life of the Son she would conceive and give birth to. She knew that the Son of her womb would not come into the world for the pomp of royalty but for the shame of the Cross. At that moment of the Angel’s appearance, Mary knew that the Mother of the Man of Sorrows must be the woman of dolours. Her”Fiat mihi” Be it done unto me according to thy word, was her acceptance of a life of sorrow.

O Mother of the Redeemer, of Him who was to be “a worm and no man,” we cast ourselves in profoun dest reverence before you!

Mother of God, the greatest honour God could confer, but at an awful price! Seeing in detail what. that price would cost her, nevertheless, she pronounced her self-offering:”Fiat mihi secundum verbum tuum,” Be it done unto me according to Thy word. With us there is a kindness, a charity in the Providence which veils from our eyes the future and all that it might demand from us. Looking back now, we realise that had we seen what we should have had to face, we should have faltered and feared to go on. Not so Mary: she knew it all, saw it all in detail, and because it was His Will pronounced her resolute”Fiat.” All the courage of the martyrs was concentrated in her then.

DOLOURS BEGAN AT THE ANNUNCIATION

Her dolours began on the day of the Annunciation and from that moment until the Resurrection her days were days of sorrow. It is the accepted tradition that Mary was only fourteen years of age at the Annunciation and fifteen at Bethlehem. From that moment of the Annunciation, she knew as no one else did or could know the amount of suffering to which she was offering Him, but she did not withdraw her hand. She offered Him as really as if she had taken the sacrificial knife that lay on the altar and slain Him. St. Epiphanius calls the Virgin “a sacrificing priest.”

With us time lessens sorrow because it allows the wounds to heal. Time draws one’s mind farther and farther away. With Mary the years kept the wounds open and added fresh ones. As time drew her nearer to Calvary it heightened the intensity of anticipation.

READING PROPHECIES OF ISAIAS

Daily she learned more and more of the worth of her Son and yet, she knew each day drew Him nearer to His Passion. An Angel told St. Brigid that Mary grew up among sorrows as a rose among thorns, and that as the thorns grew with the roses, this chosen rose was tormented by the thorns the more she advanced in years. In their hours together at Nazareth we can imagine on Fridays her reading the prophecies of Isaias, knowing full well that the hour of their literal fulfilment was drawing nigh: “He shall be led like a sheep to the slaughter.” As an under-current flowing through her life was the dreadful anticipation of the coming Passion. Even after the Ascension she had the bitter remembrance of the Passion to haunt her thoughts, and those unhappy memories, together with the separation from her Son, kept her sad and full of grief until her death.

THE SHARPER THE SWORD THE DEEPER IT CUTS

The more finely tempered the steel the more sensitive it becomes. The sharper the knife, the deeper the cut. Mary said of her own soul that: “He that is mighty hath done great things to mc.” Pope Pius IX comments on those remarkable words, saying, “that the highest angel in heaven with the luminous intelligence of the celestial spirits was unable to understand the inconceivable dignity of Mary at the first pulsation of her young life.”

When the Divine Word became flesh in her blessed womb, nothing in heaven or on earth was comparable to Mary. As Mother of Christ she surpassed in grace all angels and all men. What a mind, what a soul and what a capacity had that soul, so gifted, for suffering! She who was addressed by the Archangel Gabriel as “Full of grace” felt pain and sorrow second only to her Divine Son. Her gifts gave to her suffering a value immeasurably more than that of all created beings. What a mediatrix must she not be!

WHY DID MARY SUFFER?

A fruitful thought is to ask ourselves, why did Mary suffer? Why had she, the immaculate one, the sinless one, to suffer and sorrow? Our Lord came down from heaven to suffer. In the wisdom of God Our Lady too was pre-ordained to suffer. It was through suffering that Our Lord was to give glory to His Eternal Father. Suffering was His deliberate choice. In fact, the Son of God would not have come down from heaven but for His love of suffering as a gift to God.

Mary also gave glory to God through suffering. It was one of her graces to know the attraction that suffering had for Our Lord, and knowing that, she pursued it eagerly, and lovingly embraced it all her days on earth. She saw the Divine plan of life in thevision of Jacob’s ladder: the uprights were God’s glory and man’s Redemption, and the cross-bars were sufferings and stripes, pains of body and anguish of soul.

MOTHER OF THE MAN OF SORROWS

Another reason why Mary suffered was because it was fitting that the Mother should suffer with her Son. If the Son was the man of sorrows then the Mother should he the woman of dolours. Can we imagine it otherwise? If Jeremias wept so bitterly over Jerusalem because of his love for that city, why should not she who so loved her Son weep with Him over the souls of men He came to save? We call her the co-redemptrix. She is the Mother of the Redeemer, and how could it he that having the heart of a mother her life could have been anything but a life of sorrow?

It was fitting also that she should suffer for her own sake. She was to lead us to heaven and heaven is won by suffering. She was to be next to Him in His Kingdom, so she should be closest to Him in suffering.

For our sakes also it was just and proper that she should suffer. Our Divine Lord suffered for us for two reasons, first, to redeem us, and second, to set us an example. Mary suffered to set us an example that we ought to bear our sufferings with fortitude, and associate them, as she did, with those of Our Divine Redeemer.

WALK WITH MARY IN HER SORROWS

“Forget not the sorrows of thy Mother,” is the admonition of Ecclesiasticus. If you love her then go to her in her dolours and in sympathetic tears profess that love. Friendship and love is tried in the hour of affliction. Walk with Mary along her sorrowful way to Calvary, and through that sorrowing Mother’s heart approach Jesus, her Son and your God. How acceptable in the sight of God was that heart of Mary pierced with a sword! Remember also how it has increased her power of intercession with her Divine Son. It is to her and of her that the dying Christ addresses the last words spoken to any creature. His last legacy bequeathed His Mother to the disciple whom He loved and the disciple to His Mother.

Let us bring Mary into our lives as a living reality by frequently talking to her in the meditations of the Dolour Rosary, saying it especially on her Saturdays. The great lesson of the Dolour Rosary is to learn how essential suffering is for our souls. God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son to redeem us. The Son so loved us that He gave His life for us:

“Greater love than this no man hath, that a man lay down his life for his friends.”

The Dolours will bring us to Calvary along the Via Matris. Let us stand beneath the Cross with her to share her sorrow and to ask her for strength to carry our cross. There we shall ask His pardon for our sins and the grace of final perseverance. Pardon is purchased for us by Christ on the Cross, but it is through the tears and prayers of His Mother, standing by the Cross that we hope that the gift of final perseverance will be granted to us.

REMEMBER HER TEARS

She is His Mother, but she is ours also. Remember His Blood and remember her tears. Both were shed for us, one to redeem, the other to encourage and help us. May our devotion to the Seven Dolours increase and merit for us the reward promised by the “Stabat Mater”:

“Jesus, when earth’s shadows leave me

Through Thy Mother’s prayers receive me

With the palm of victory.”

The foundation of true love for Our Lady depends on devotion to her Dolours. Devotion is not a cheap thing. It means more than words, for it asks for sacrifice, for self-offering, and for a constancy that is almost heroic.

SATURDAY IS DOLOURS DAY

Saturday is Mary’s Day in the week, leading as it does to Sunday, the Lord’s Day. The Dolour Rosary would be a most acceptable gift to Mary on Saturdays. For many Saturday is Confession day. Our sorrow for our sins will be more sincere if we say the Dolour Rosary after Confession. The first Saturday in each month has become Our Lady of Fatima Saturday and we will gladden the heart of Mary if part of our fifteen minutes” meditation becomes the Dolour Rosary.

MEDITATIONS ON THE SEVEN DOLOURS

FIRST SORROW: SIMEON’S PROPHECY

“And Simeon blessed them, and said to Mary His Mother: Behold this Child is set for the fall, and for the resurrection of many in Israel, and for a Sign which shall be contradicted;

And thy own soul a sword shall pierce, that out of many hearts thoughts may be revealed.”—Luke II, 34–35.

MEDITATION

This is the first official confirmation of the fears and thoughts which worried her since the Annunciation. This was a terrible shock for the young Mother. She is not yet sixteen and from now on Simeon’s words, “Thy own soul a sword shall pierce,” will be a dark cloud, shutting the sun of brightness out of her life. The terrible anticipation of the Passion will turn the joys of a young mother into bitter pain. As the Child advances in age and grace the shadow of the Cross is ever present to His Mother. Lt imagination we may lift the veil of Nazareth and listen in to the Holy Family when Mary reads aloud the prophecies, especially the words of Isaias: “O all ye that pass by the way, attend and see if there be any sorrow like unto my sorrow.” Again: “He shall be led like a sheep to the slaughter and shall be dumb as a lamb before his shearers and he shall not open his mouth. And we have thought him as it were a leper, and as one struck by God and afflicted.” (Isaias, 53, 3–7).

How the Divine Child must have gone to His Mother and clung to her as the terrible truth of these words of doom came home to Him! And what a wound the words of Simeon made in the young mother’s heart, a long festering wound of anticipated sorrow!

As Mary left the Temple that day, just forty days since the angels sang their Gloria on the hills of Bethlehem, she realized now why the Magi brought with their joyous gifts of gold and incense, the bitter, sad, and sorrowful gift of myrrh. Mary could never have been really our Mother unless site had gone to Calvary with her Divine Son. Thus did she become the Mother of the afflicted. She can wipe away our tears because she understands sorrow. She can mend our broken hearts because her own was broken. Because she was the Mother of Sorrows she is the Cause of our Joy.

PRAYER

As we see you, a sweet young mother, a girl in years, for you are not yet sixteen, shy and graceful in appearance, delicately and modestly giving your Babe to Simeon for his blessing, we beg of you to grant us through this first dolour some of your courage, strength, and grace to accept whatever sorrow the Lord may send into our lives. You are little more than a child and already you have heard enough to break a woman’s heart. A hush falls over heaven awaiting your reaction to this first shock, this first sword of sorrow. With no dramatics, no murmur of self pity, no word of reproach, you take the Babe in your arns, you kiss Him fondly, and your self-offering to the Will of God is as simply and calmly made as when you said to Gabriel: “Behold the handmaid of the Lord, be it done unto me according to thy word.”

Sorrows and heavy trials may come to us, and to you, most sorrowful Mother, will we fly to make them the means of drawing us closer to Jesus and to you.

SECOND SORROW: THE FLIGHT INTO EGYPT

“And after they (the wise men) were departed, behold an angel of the Lord appeared in sleep to Joseph, saying: Arise, and take the Child and His Mother, and fly into Egypt; and be there until I shall tell thee. For it will come to pass that Herod will seek the Child to destroy Him. Who arose, and took the Child and His Mother by night, and retired into Egypt: and he was there until the death of Herod.”—Matt. II, 13–14.

MEDITATION

The young Mother was awakened by ,Joseph; she must fly at once in the darkness, if she was to save her child. Oh, that prophecy of Simeon! So soon! Swiftly she got ready, and during the bustle she was terribly afraid, afraid for the life of the Child. In the long stretches of the desert Mary was in constant fear, the cries of the wild dogs at night terrified her, the unfriendly people in their strange caravans glared at her, and the anticipation of living in a hostile land made that journey to Egypt a nightmare. Though she held God in her arms, He did not make things easy for her. With a girl’s fear Mary was afraid throughout that long journey from Bethlehem to Egypt. Never before had she been among a strange people and many a tear did she shed during the years she lived among a people who looked with scorn upon her own nation. If her missionaries are to leave home for her Son’s sake, she must experience the bitter taste of exile. She must know what it costs to sever the ties of home and blood.

St. Joseph had to earn the support of the Holy Family. A foreign carpenter would not find work easily and there must have been hungry days during those years in Egypt. Were the Egyptian women friendly towards her? Jesus was a boy among boys, his Divinity unknown to His companions. In those days it was Mary, not Jesus, who feared. Jesus was not afraid yet, His time to be afraid would come in Gethsemane when His loving Mother was not with Him. On the return journey across the desert Joseph was afraid and shared fully Mary’s ever present anxiety and fear.

God expects us to use prayer and the Sacraments and to fly from danger. God could have preserved His Son without inflicting the fear of flight and the pain of exile upon Mary, but He demanded of her a prompt obedience to His Angel’s command to arise in the night and fly at once. Mary and Joseph could, humanly speaking, delay until the morning’s light. But no, they promptly and unquestioningly answered the call.

PRAYER

We poor banished children of Eve are afraid also, and to thee do we fly, O strong and dearest Mother. In this world of many dangers we cannot always be beside our children, but do thou, O Mother, help us to teach them the enormity of sin, and train them to fly from its dangerous occasions. Thou who didst guard the Divine Child watch over us and our children, and after this our exile show unto us the blessed fruit of thy womb, Jesus, O ever glorious and blessed Virgin.

Mary, by this second dolour, teach us t hat God’s ways are hidden in everything, even in those things that seem as far away as Egypt. The Flight into Egypt teaches us that there is nothing in life that cannot be spiritualized and turned into a prayer, provided we do it in union with Jesus.

Mary, we are slow to learn, tardy to understand, but do Thou impress upon us that we can make a Holy Land out of our daily toil, provided we bring with us Thy Infant Child.

THIRD SORROW: THE LOSS OF JESUS IN THE TEMPLE

“And having fulfilled the days, when they returned, the Child Jesus remained in Jerusalem; and His parents knew it not. And thinking that He was in the company; they came a day’s journey, and sought Him among their kinsfolk and acquaintances. And not finding Him, they returned into Jerusalem,seeking Him.”—Luke II. 43–45.

MEDITATION

When Jesus was twelve years old He went on foot with His parents from Nazareth, the long road of 80 miles to Jerusalem for the Solemn Pasch. The celebration over, the law required men and women to separate and leave the city by different gates. Thus Jesus could withdraw from both Mary and Joseph, and each think He was with the other. As the first day’s journey was nearly over the families drew together, and boys, then as now, ran along by themselves. Thus Mary and Joseph were not uneasy until evening when they “sought Him among their kinsfolk and acquaintances.” But no one had seen Him. Mary’s heart sank lower and lower as in dismay she moved from group to group enquiring.

What Mary had feared in the Flight into Egypt had overtaken her at home. This was probably the greatest sorrow in Mary’s life, the sorrow of separation. On the Cross, Jesus cried from His tortured soul: “My God, My God, why hast Thou forsaken Me?” And Jesus had forsaken Mary now, as God afterwards forsook Him. If she cried bitter tears over it, it would be no more than He did. This “separation’s sorrow” was the crucifixion of her soul. All Mary’s other sorrows carne from the cruelties of men. God Himself was inflicting this one.

Jesus was a Boy of twelve, still only a Child. Mary, mother-like, blamed herself for not having been more careful. Perhaps, in her humility, she thought her own unworthiness must be the cause. It is only mothers who can understand the fear and anxieties and pain of loss which Mary endured throughout two sleepless nights.

Mary and Joseph returned to Jerusalem enquiring of all by the way whether they had seen their Boy, Who was so manly yet so gentle, a striking Lad that everyone noticed and liked. No news, but the usual suggestions which only increased Mary’s fears and terrible forebodings. At last on the third day they found Him in the Temple among the Doctors, and to Him Mary spoke:

“Son, why hast Thou done so to us? Behold Thy Father and I have sought Thee sorrowing.”

To this the Child gravely answered:

“How is it that you sought Me? Did you not know that I must be about My Father’s business?” Was it any wonder that Mary who carried Him to Egypt to save His life, should now seek Him sorrowing? And

Jesus knew she had been sorrowing. He had known it all through the three days, for had He not strengthened her to bear the separation from Him, she would not have survived.

PRAYER

O sorrowing Mother we thank you for the third dolour, because its bitter experience prepared you to become the Refuge of Sinners. You, the sinless one, had to taste the separation which sin causes if you would be tender, patient, and kind with sinners. It is sin and sin alone which deprives us of the presence and company of Jesus in our hearts. When we give ear to our passions and heed the evil suggestions of the devil we lose Jesus. The sinless Mother learns in the third dolour the plight of those who have lost Jesus by sin.

We can lose Jesus by mortal sin which separates the soul from God. Should that sad fate be ours, help us, dear Mother, to seek Him at once in the confessional, to seek Him sorrowing as you did throughout those three sad days.

There are other times when our soul is as arid as a desert, our hearts seem cold, and we find it hard to pray, and even begin to believe that perhaps God has forgotten us, because He seems so far away; whisper gently to us, dearest Mother Mary, the sweet reminder that even when we seem to have lost Him, He is still about His Father’s business.

FOURTH SORROW: MARY MEETS JESUS CARRYING HIS CROSS “AND THERE FOLLOWED HIM A GREAT MULTITUDE OF PEOPLE, AND OF WOMEN, WHO BEWAILED AND LAMENTED HIM.”—LUKE XXIII, 27

MEDITATION

Twenty-one years have passed since the third dolour. Eighteen years were spent in the calm and quiet of the home at Nazareth. Each day of those years was like a novitiate in which Mary learned more deeply her share of the Cross.

After those eighteen years she parted with Him. He was then thirty and He must be about His Father’s business. And now after thirty years of obeying and three years of teaching come His three hours of redeeming. That terrible Good Friday morning has dawned.

John, the beloved disciple, comes in with the news that Jesus has been condemned to death. Mary leaves her retirement to share openly with her Divine Son the humiliation, shame, and sufferings of the Cross. She takes her position in the narrow street to await Him. The procession comes in sight led by the Centurion on his horse. A Roman trumpet sounds and the crowd pushes on. Presently she sees the two thieves, the rough cross, the hammer and the nails, and then she sees only Him staggering under the Cross on which He is to die; thorn-crowned, and with blood streaming into His Eyes and clotting His hair and beard. The wounds of the scourging are covered by His robe but she sees the trickles of Blood from them running down over the bare feet, and leaving red narks on the road. He is defiled with spittle, buffeted and jostled, while the irritated Roman soldiers try to hold back the crowd that is lusting for His death and screaming: “Crucify Him! Crucify Him!”

Mary knew there must he a sacrifice of some sort, but she was unprepared for anything like this. This is her fourth sorrow but it is the first in which she has seen wounds and blood and utter degradation. For years He had been her ideal Son, perfect in His stalwart manhood. When He returned each day, His work done, and greeted her affectionately, how proud she must have been of her Son! But what a spectacle He now presents!

She notices that the apostles are absent. Only John, thanks to his mother Salome, is present. Jesus is alone. He shall be alone no longer. She goes towards Him; the crowd gives way before her dignified insistence and she stands before Jesus. The eyes of mother and Son meet. What memories they share- Bethlehem, Egypt, Nazareth! She guided His Baby steps. She held her hands under His arms in His first attempt to walk; she said with Him His first prayers and taught Him how to read. She will be with Him now on His last journey to Calvary and death.

It is enough to break hearts other than His or hers, but Mary keeps a firm hand upon herself, and her courage impresses the soldiers, helps Simon of Cyrene to carry the Cross, encourages Veronica to wipe the blood and spittle off His Face, and touches the hearts of the women of Jerusalem who weep in sympathy. Mary follows Him, often stepping in the Blood of her Son. Simeon’s prophecy is coming true, and in such terrible fashion that she is completely unprepared. Who would not weep at seeing this Mother’s grief. But who has caused it? I and my sins had a share in it.

PRAYER

O Virgin most holy, I crave pardon for the sorrows 1 have caused thee. Show mercy tome and I promise to be more faithful to my Redeemer in the time to come and thus to console thee. for this sad meeting with thy Son. I know that some reparation is required of me. God lays on each of us a cross that is heavy enough, sometimes it seems heavier than we can bear. The way of the cross is hard but it is the only road to heaven. Few take it by choice but it will be heavier if we drag it after us. The way of the cross is marked out by the Blood of Jesus Who first travelled it. And thou, Mother Mary, wert the first to practise perfectly the counsel of thy Son: “If any man will come after Me, let him deny himself, take up his cross and follow Me.” Help me, O Mother mine, by thy prayers and encouragement to endure gratefully and bravely my trials—pains of body and sufferings of soul- along that way of the cross which leads to heaven.

O sorrowful Mother help me through the merits of the fourth sorrow to deny myself the craving for sensual pleasures and the alluring excitements which the world offers.

FIFTH SORROW: JESUS DIES ON THE CROSS

“They crucified Him. Now there stood by the cross of Jesus, His Mother. When Jesus therefore had seen His Mother and the disciple standing whom He loved, He saith to His Mother: Woman: behold thy son. After that He saith to the disciple: Behold thy Mother:”—John XIX, 18–25–26–27.

MEDITATION

Calvary is reached. They tear the garments off His Body, they drag them off so roughly that the skin comes with them. He is laid down on the cross. They press down on His knees and then the haunter blows are heard and the bite of the nail through His Feet. His arms are extended and again the hammer drives the nails through flesh and sinew. How those blows fall upon the heart of Mary! Upward they heave the Cross and let it fall with a thud into the hole prepared for it. What waves of pain must sweep over His Body! What a shiver of pain passes through us as we think of the effect of that jolt! And Mary is there to see and hear while the frenzied mob laugh and mock and shriek.

What a scene was that for Mary to witness ! She had a mother’s heart, gentle, loving, human. Let the mothers of children tell how she felt, they alone can explain. There are few things a mother will not do for a dying son. There was nothing possible that love could demand or suggest that Mary would not do for Jesus, yet she had to stand by and see Him suffer, and she could not help Him. You who know the relief it is to moisten the lips of the dying with a little water- what of the mother who stood by and heard her dying Son moan: “1 thirst”—and could do nothing!

“There stood by the Cross of Jesus, Mary, His Mother”—not a word escaped her lips. Her silent fortitude only intensified her suffering, her self-possession allowed the grief to sink all the deeper. Mary stood by the Cross when His Apostles deserted Him. Cardinal Newman comments that she stood there, not wringing her hands and putting on a scene. She stood bolt upright to receive the blows and stabs which the long passion of her Son inflicted upon her mother’s heart. Mary stood by the Cross, nay, write some of the Fathers, she is fastened to the Cross with Him.

“There stood by the Cross of Jesus, Mary His Mother.” From that hour she became our Mother and our model in whose company and following whose example we hope to stand more worthily by the Cross of Jesus.

Wonderful is Mary in her Immaculate Conception. Beautiful is she as the fairest daughter of God the Father. Resplendent is she as the spouse of the Holy Spirit. But nearer and dearer to us is Mary our sorrowful Mother, standing beneath the Cross with her eyes sad and tears on her cheeks.

Jesus knew what sufferings Mary was enduring beside His Cross. Gently, kindly, softly He spoke to her: “Woman, behold thy son.” Then to St. John: “Behold thy Mother.” They both understood and from that hour the young apostle “took her unto his own” and into his own house where he cared for her as a loving son during the fifteen years she lived after Calvary. In that awful hour of sacrifice Mary became our Mother. Spared the pains of child-birth at Bethlehem, she gave birth to us with the agony of Calvary. At Bethlehem she became the Mother of God and on Calvary she became the Mother of men. She brought forth the Innocent without pain, but she could not bring forth sinners without sorrow. Her title of Mother of men became hers by the right of birth. Thirty years with the Redeemer had taught her that she must love men as He loved them- enough to suffer and die for them, and still live on.

PRAYER

We are often wayward children, O Mother, but we love thee for thou wert His dying gift to us. We ask thee, Mother dear, to stand by us. May we see the value of suffering for our eternal salvation. Assist us then to bear meekly and with resignation all our crosses, and through them may we have thee beside us now and at the hour of our death.

Mary, in thy fourth dolour, thou didst show us how we are to carry our cross, and in this, the fifth dolour, thou dost show us how to stand by it. Thy Son has told us that only those who persevere to the end will be saved. But perseverance is sometimes so difficult.

Beg for us the grace that like thee we may stand by the Cross until the end as thou didst stand on Calvary for three full hours. There thy sorrow was so deep that even the greatest of martyrs have saluted thee as their Queen. Because of that martyrdom pray for us that when the lease of our life has ended, we can say like thy Divine Son:

“I have finished the work.” Now, God, take me down, and lift me up into everlasting union with Thee.

SIXTH SORROW: JESUS TAKEN DOWN FROM THE CROSS

“Joseph of Arimathea, a noble counsellor, came and went in boldly to Pilate, and begged the body of Jesus. And Joseph buying fine linen, and taking Him down, wrapped Him up in the fine linen.”—Mark XV, 43–46.

MEDITATION

The Passion is over for Jesus: He is dead. The Centurion came up beside Mary and drove his lance into the warm, dead body. Jesus did not feel that, but Mary did. The piercing of the Sacred Heart was a sacrilege to her and she was terribly hurt. To open His Sacred Side in death was the final desecration of that holy Body.

The crowd has gone, their blood lust satisfied. The earthquake sent them hurrying back to their homes in terror.

Joseph of Arimathea and Nicode mus take the Body down from the Cross, and with much reverence lay It on Mary’s knee. No word is spoken as Mary contemplates the broken Body of her Son. Mother-like she goes back to Bethlehem where thirty-three years ago she first held Him in her arms. A stable for Him then, and now look at Him! The handsome Boy, the manly Youth, the noble Man is reduced to this by the sins of men.

But sorrow-stricken though she is, there is no self-pity, and with calm fortitude she listens to the funeral arrangements madeby her friends. Joseph of Armathea has Pilate’s permission to bury the Body in his new sepulchre. Nicodemus brings “a mixture of myrrh and aloes about an hundred pounds weight” to anoint the Body. What a sad, moving scene is that in the waning daylight on Calvary! The little group preparing the dead Body for the tomb! Few words are spoken, and these in whispers. They all help, but the loving hands that bathed the Babe in Bethlehem do the last reverences for His burial on Calvary. She removes the crown of thorns. Jesus could not be hurt now, yet tenderly Mary loosens the blood clotted hair and extracts the thorns from the cruelly wounded Head. The eyes of Jesus, still open and fixed in that appeal to His Father, she gently closes. She anoints the wounds in His Hands and Feet with a mixture of myrrh and aloes. They turn the Body for her and she sees for the first time what He had suffered from the scourges. She does not wash the Blood from off His Body. It is too precious.

The loyal Mary Magdalene, who had anointed Him six days ago in Bethany, had the privilege of mixing the myrrh and spices, aloes and perfume which the wealthy Nicodemus had brought. The mother kisses the wounds on the Body and Head of her Son, and the little band reverently follow her example. The body is anointed and ready for the winding sheet. There is a pause as Mary takes a long, loving glance at the Body while in her soul she goes again through the Passion of her Son. Mothers live on last looks, and Mary must now take hers. As she looked, the sun setting in the west threw on the hill the lengthening shadow of the Cross, as sorrow was now throwing its lengthening cross upon the heart of the Mother of God.

She spreads the fine linen, the gift of Nicodemus, and drapes it around His Body. She fastens the linen bands. With one last farewell tearful kiss she covers the face with the head cloth and ties the knot under the chin. Sorrow’s sword is in her heart.

PRAYER

O sorrowful Mother Mary, illuminate our minds that we may often see that scene in all its harrowing detail! St. John, the beloved Apostle, share with us the sorrow that was yours on that evening. St. Mary Magdalene, you who were so honoured and whose sins were forgiven because you had loved Him so much, teach us to love Him as the best reparation for our sins.

Grant, dear Mother, that our hearts may be pierced with the same sword of sorrow that pierced your soul, and that we may sorrow unto tears for the part our sins played in this terrible sixth dolour.

SEVENTH SORROW: JESUS IS PLACED IN THE TOMB

“Now there was in the place where He was crucified, a garden; and in the garden a new sepulchre, wherein no man yet had been laid. There, therefore, because of the parasceve of the Jews, they laid Jesus, because the sepulchre was nigh at hand.”—John XIX, 41–42.

MEDITATION

The sun is sinking behind the Judean hills. The small group of mourners are silent, no one to disturb them, for Jerusalem has forgotten them, and those who have crucified Him are now refreshing themselves after this nerve-trying day. At a sign from Mary the three men, St. John, Nicodemus, and Joseph of Arimathea lift the Body and carry It the short way to the tomb. Mary with the loving escort of women friends form the funeral procession. There are no wreaths except the crown of thorns, and the nails.

This is the terrible time for a woman’s loving heart. Men can only stand by, mute and sympathetic. Instinct tells them to leave the women alone, for no one can help them. How overpowering is that final act for Mary! Salome, the mother of St. John, as she looks at her own young manly son carrying the Body might guess something of “what is in Mary’s heart, but it is Mary Magdalene who comes nearest to Mary’s sorrow for of the Magdalene He said: “Many sins are forgiven her because she had loved much.”

The Magdalene first met Jesus that afternoon in Naim when He raised the dead man to life, and gave him back to his widowed mother. That same day she knelt at His feet, and heard His comforting words as He raised her from sin to the new life of grace. She had been the friend of Jesus and Mary since. She had seen Jesus weep by the tomb of her brother Lazarus, and out of His love for her had called Lazarus back from death.

Jesus now was dead; dead Himself, and there was no one to comfort His Mother. She watches Mary, so calmly entering the sepulchre to see that all things were done with care and respect. Magdalene remembered her many sins. Jesus had forgiven them all, and had brought her to His own Immaculate Mother, and there began the only true friendship of her life. As she looked on the sad but resigned face of Mary, she learned what a price had been paid for sin and for her forgiveness. She knelt down by the sepulchre and wept.

The rolling of the stone in front of the sepulchre had not the hollow, hopeless sound of earth falling on a coffin. To Mary, His Mother, who knew that the Resurrection would follow the Death, it was no more than the gentle closing of the Tabernacle door, which Mary knew would open again. Mary’s sorrow was not for her dead Son now but for sin and sinners who had crucified Him.

Mary supported by the strong young arms of John, assisted by his mother, Salome, and her own sister, Mary of Cleophas, begins the return way of the Cross. The light of a Paschal moon sheds its rays across her path. How grim and clear the crosses stand on Calvary’s hill! She goes up to His Cross, still bearing stains of His Blood. She kneels and kisses the Cross with reverence and retraces her morning pilgrimage, making for the second time the way of the Cross. from the fourteenth station to the first. This time it seems more terrible than the first, because she makes it without Him.

Most probably she accepted the invitation of the Magdalene and returned to Bethany where a warm welcome would lie hers from Martha and Lazarus.

Mary lived for fifteen years after the Crucifixion. St. John is her son now and his home became her home. But the word “home” had lost its significance, for what could home mean without Jesus? She had to suffer with Him, and then for fifteen long years to live without Him. Death had ended suffering for Jesus, but not for her. Now she was more to be pitied than Jesus. Gladly would she have died with Him, but no, she must live on with the empty loneliness in her heart.

Simeon’s sword of sorrow is buried to the hilt in her heart: there is no room for more.

PRAYER

O Mary Mother, as we contemplate thy desolation and noble resignation at the burial of thy crucified Son, we admit that it was sin, our sins included, that was the cause of it all. We indeed are sorry for our part and we resolve to bury in the tomb with Jesus all our evil inclination and desires.

We promise to go often to the Passion of thy Son, and to enter into thy own sorrows, for we believe that the way of the Cross is the way of the Mother, and that there is no other way to him and to thee.

St. Mary Magdalene lead us to see in the light streaming from the Cross how much sin hurts Him, and how willingly pardons the loving heart.

St. John, the beloved, come with us to the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass, and warm our hearts to offer ourselves, our trials and sorrows, our resolutions and promises, our confidence and trust to Him and in Him and with Him.

O strong and loving Mother of men, assist us in our temptations and weakness of will that we may never sin again. Pray for us now, and at the hour of our death, so that we may be admitted into thy presence, there to thank thee, and with Jesus, thy Son and our Redeemer, to live for ever in Heaven.

“Mary, Mother of Sorrows, thy heart is everything to us; it is a living altar stone on which the sacrifice is offered ; it is the sanctuary lamp whose flame leaps with joy before its God; it is the server for its beatings are like the responses of the liturgy; it is the Pascal candle which lights the sanctuary of our souls by the sacrifice of self; it is the thurible which gives the sweet odour of incense as it burns in love for us; it is a whole angelic choir singing voiceless songs into ravished ears of the bleeding Host, Our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ.

Mary, sacristan of souls, as thou wert the sacristan of Jesus, a good life is worth nothing if it be not crowned with a happy death. We shall spend our whole life therefore asking this of thee, if it be only to gain it at the end. Thy Divine Son said He would not leave us orphans. But Mary, we will be orphans unless thou art our mother.”

Bishop Fulton Sheen

METHOD OF SAYING THE DOLOUR ROSARY ,

The only requisite for saying the Seven Dolour Rosary, and for gaining the Indulgences, is to meditate upon each of the Seven Dolours in turn while saying an Our Father on each medal and a Hail Mary on each bead. The entire essential, therefore, consists of: 7 Meditations, 7 Our Fathers, 49 Hail Marys. No more than that is required to gain Indulgences.

SEVEN DOLOUR ROSARY INDULGENCES

His Holiness Pope Pius XII, with a Rescript of the Sacred Penitentiary Apostolic dated March 28th, 1942, abrogated all the Indulgences granted by former Sovereign Pontiffs for the recitation of the Seven Dolour Rosary, and granted the following Indulgences to those who recite the Seven Dolour Rosary:

PLENARY INDULGENCES

1. Those who recite the Rosary daily, not including Sundays, may gain a plenary indulgence once a month.

2. Plenary Indulgence on the two Feasts of the Seven Sorrows of the Blessed Mother. 3. On each Friday of the year when the Rosary is recited for the souls in Purgatory. 4. On each Thursday of the year when the Rosary is said in the presence of the Blessed Sacrament. To gain this Plenary Indulgence it is not necessary that the Blessed Sacrament be exposed.

5. Pope Pius XII, with a Rescript of the Sacred Apostolic Penitentiary dated April 2nd, 1951, extended to

Servite Tertiaries and to all the faithful enrolled in the Confraternity of Our Lady of Sorrows, the Plenary Indulgence toties quoties granted to Servite Fathers, Brothers, and Nuns who recite the Seven Dolour Rosary before the Blessed Sacrament- either solemnly exposed or enclosed in the Tabernacle.

6. With a Rescript of the Sacred Apostolic Penitentiary, dated December 19th, 1953, Pope Pius XII granted a plenary indulgence once a day to all the faithful who after Confession and Holy Communion recite the

Rosary before the Blessed Sacrament- either solemnly exposed or enclosed in the Tabernacle.

PARTIAL INDULGENCES

1. Seven years for each complete recitation of the Rosary.

2. 100 days for each Our Father and the same for each Hail Mary, to those who recite the whole Rosary. 3. Two hundred days (200) for each Our Father and the same for each Hail Mary to those who recite the whole Rosary on the two Feasts of the Seven Dolours of the Blessed Virgin Mary, during the Octaves of these

Feasts, during Lent, or on any Friday of the year.

4. Those who recite the Rosary frequently may gain an indulgence of ten years when they assist at the

Holy Sacrifice of the Mass or are present for a sermon, or when they accompany the Blessed Sacrament when It is carried to the sick, or whenever they perform some work of mercy, spiritual or temporal, in honour of the Passion of Our Lord or the Sorrows of His Blessed Mother.

The Seventh Commandment

BY THE MOST REV. JAMES STAUNTON, D. D

INDEX

Man has a strict right to acquire and to own property. He needs it for his own support and for the support of his family. He needs it to make provision for the future, to which, as a rational being, he is urged by the law of nature itself.

OWNERSHIP OF WORLDLY GOODS

Prom the earliest times men have possessed worldly goods as their own. That which they acquired by their labour, inherited from their parents, or received as a gift from their fellow men was regarded as their own. It was necessary that each should have his own, as otherwise men could not have lived together in peace. In fact nearly all quarrels and wars, whether between nations or between people of the same community, have arisen because of the evil will of some who wished to seize unjustly what belonged to others. Most of the evils of our own day are due to injustice in some form or other.

So important for the peace and harmony of mankind is security in the possession of worldly goods that it is safeguarded by a special Commandment of God. The first three commandments deal with our duties to God. The last seven lay down our principal duties to our neighbour. They safeguard what is most important for man’s peace, and for his individual and social well-being. The fourth commandment safeguards the authority of parents and the sanctity of the home. The fifth safeguards human life. The sixth defends the sanctity of marriage and the seventh commandment protects the secure possession of property honestly acquired and owned.

THEIR DISTRIBUTION

The earth and the fulness thereof were given to mankind for the support of all. This end is generally best attained by every one having a portion for his own, which gives each an incentive to acquire his portion by honest labour, to increase it by energy and industry, to protect it with care and to expend it with economy and thrift. But the present distribution of worldly goods, according to which some have more than they need, while many have not enough to meet all their needs, does not fulfil the designs of the Creator. It does not follow however, except in so far as it is strictly necessary to preserve human life, that one can take what belongs to another on the ground that the owner has more than he needs. Such a course of action would lead to chaos and to insecurity even for the poorest, who would themselves become the victims of the thriftless and unscrupulous. It is the duty and right of the State to effect, by a gradual change, a more equitable distribution of the goods of the world in the interests of the public welfare. It can, by taxation of superfluous incomes and by progressive social legislation, make provision for the poorer classes. In addition, those who have more than they need for themselves and their families are bound to help the poor out of their superfluity. They are also bound, and this is often the best charity, to invest their superfluous incomes in industries in their own country, producing useful goods for the community in which they live, and giving employment to their own people, thus enabling them to earn their bread by the sweat of their brows, as God intended them to do. This obligation is none the less real in that it does not bind to restitution.

COVETOUSNESS

The tendency to take what belongs to another has been common in all the ages, before and after the commandment “Thou Shalt Not Steal” was promulgated on .Mount Sinai. It existed when the objects of exchange were food and the necessaries of life. It has increased with the advent of money, which appeals to man’s rational appetite and for the possession of which he has an unlimited capacity. The old exactness and strict honesty which existed in Christian countries are not as strong as they used to be. There is no longer the same horror of taking or keeping unjustly what belongs to another. There is no longer the same exact difference between “mine” and “thine.” The opportunities for unjust taking and keeping have increased with the increase of production. The philosophies of the nations, which admit no right but might, have set a bad headline to individuals. It is indeed true that the great majority of our people have no other desire than to live honestly, to work hard, to pay their way, to depend on themselves and their own industry. They wish to be strictly honest in regard to what belongs to others as they expect others to respect in the same way what is theirs. But it is also true that an increasing number of people are tempted to acts of dishonesty. The public spirit against dishonesty seems to be growing more lax. The Christian spirit of giving to everyone his own must be renewed and strengthened. The precept enjoining strict honesty must be recognised as one of the fundamental principles of our religion and civilisation.

HONESTY

Everyone appreciates the reputation of being an honest man. No one could have a finer character. The Sacred Scriptures sum up all the virtues in the virtue of justice. The just man is dear to God. It is a grand thing for a person or a people to have the character of being scrupulously honest, just in all their dealings, reliable and trustworthy, giving fair wages or honest work according to their condition. Honesty is an essential quality of a good Christian. Without it no one can be called a good Christian. He may observe the other commandments. He may say his prayers and hear Mass. He may even give alms, but if he is not honest, he is not a true follower of Christ. Our forefathers believed in strict honesty. May Almighty God grant that our people may be faithful and exact in their observance of this commandment, which, in His wisdom and justice, He has given us.

DISHONESTY-LTS SINFULNESS

While honesty is respected by all right-minded people, there is no more dishonourable name than that of thief or robber. This is as it should be, because injustice contains a manifold malice. It is injurious to civil society, disturbing its peace and harmony. It causes quarrels, strife, disputes, litigation, and suspicion even of the innocent. It causes enmities which may remain for life, which extend to families and go on from generation to generation. It disturbs public order and security. Hence it has been, in past ages, punished by the severest penalties in the criminal codes of the nations. In the early days of the Church it had to be expiated by long penances, even after restitution had been made. It is injurious not only to the person wronged whose right to the peaceful possession of what is his is violated. It is injurious to the dishonest person himself, making him shifty and thriftless, sapping his energy and independence. Its chief malice is that it is an offence against God. It is a violation of one of the commandments of the law so solemnly proclaimed. It is of its nature a grave sin. The prohibition of dishonesty in the ten commandments follows the prohibition of murder and adultery. Hence St. Paul states that “neither idolaters nor adulterers, nor thieves, nor the covetous, nor drunkards, nor extortioners, shall possess the kingdom of Heaven.” While injustice is, of its nature, a. grave sin, in order that a grave sin be committed in individual cases, there must be grave matter as well as full advertence to the guilt and full consent of the will. There is grave matter when that which is taken or kept against the owner’s will is considerable as also when serious loss is inflicted on another by taking or damaging what is in itself of little value. The taking of a considerable amount is grave no matter from whom it is taken as it is a grave injury to the peace and security of society. The taking of a small amount is not in itself a grave sin, unless it causes grave loss to the person robbed or injured. This might be the case when a small amount is taken from a very poor person. Whether the injury be grave or light there is an obligation to restitution.

RESTITUTION

This is the special obligation which follows sins of dishonesty and injustice. The stolen goods must be restored. Compensation must be made for unjust injury. Restitution or at least a serious purpose of restitution is necessary for forgiveness. Other sins, even the most grievous, can be forgiven, with sincere repentance and a firm purpose of sinning no more. But injustice needs more for forgiveness than sorrow and. a firm purpose of being honest in the future. It demands restitution, when restitution is possible. The ill-gotten goods must be given back. There must be a real and serious resolve to make restitution before God grants pardon. There must be a serious effort to put this resolution into practice. Those who through their own fault do not restore ill-gotten goods or repair unjust injury, fall into the same sin again. Contrition is not sincere if it does not include a serious will to make reparation as far as possible. The Church has no power to absolve without an earnest purpose of restitution. Without this, confession is a mockery and the adding of sin to sin. Nothing can take the place of restitution, neither prayer, nor penance, nor works and piety, nor even almsdeeds, as long as the persons injured are known and it is possible to make reparation to them. Restitution should be made for the smallest as for the greatest injustice. It must be to the last farthing.

Restitution is rare and this is one of the dangers attaching to injustice. It should make everyone pause before being dishonest. Restitution is not easy. The attachment to the stolen property which moved the person to get possession of it unjustly, becomes stronger when it is in his possession. He begins to regard it as his own. He plans for the future on the strength of its possession. He gives himself or his family comforts which they are not inclined to relinquish. It is now more difficult to restore it than it was to do without it in the first instance. Perhaps he has spent the money or consumed the goods. Now he must make sacrifices and reduce his standard of living to restore them. Hence it is that restitution is comparatively rare. Men will not make the necessary sacrifice. They go even to their death without making sufficient effort to restore what they have acquired by unjust means. They place their material comfort, their social position and that of their families before the salvation of their souls. They face eternal damnation rather than make the sacrifice which restitution requires and which the law of God demands. This thought should deter everyone from injustice and dishonesty. They must make restitution. If restitution is possible there is no escape. Only a real impossibility can suspend the obligation and that only as long as the impossibility lasts. Is it not better then to be wise in time, to be strictly honest, and not to put a heavy load on your conscience-a load which only restitution can remove?

WAYS OF INJUSTICE

It is not intended in this short pamphlet to deal fully with the manifold ways in which injustice may be committed. This would require a volume. Besides it is not necessary. Our peoples’ instinct in this matter is generally sound. They know when they are committing sins of injustice. They may excuse themselves on the ground that others are doing the same and seem to have no scruple about it. But they know in their hearts that they are doing wrong. They are not easy in their consciences. In serious illnesses or danger of death it begins to worry them. We shall therefore confine ourselves to the chief ways in which injustice may be committed, namely unjust taking or keeping what belongs to another and unjust injury to his property.

UNJUST TAKING

It is unlawful to take another’s goods unjustly and against the owner’s will, that is to say, when he has every reason and right, to be unwilling to be deprived of them. No injustice is committed when the owner is willing, or when his consent can be prudently presumed, or even when he unjustly refuses. Thus one may take another’s goods, against the owner’s will, when he needs them for the preservation of his life, provided that he takes only what is necessary to meet this pressing and extreme need. The preservation of human life is the primary purpose of all earthly goods. So also if money or value, which is in the possession of another, clearly and certainly belongs to you, and if you can get possession of it by no other means, you can take it secretly. This method of compensation should however be resorted to only rarely. No one is a good judge in his own case. Outside these cases it is unjust and unlawful to take what belongs to another against his will. It is unjust whether the injustice is done secretly by theft or openly and violently by robbery; whether it is committed in public or private business, in buying, selling or exchange of goods in any form; whether it is by the use of false weights or measures or by falsification of documents or any other unjust use of the pen. “This is the will of God that no man over-reach or circumvent his brother in business, because the Lord is the avenger of these things.” (Thess iv. 6). Even if goods belonging to another are in your keeping as agent, guardian, administrator or trustee, it is unjust to spend them, to waste or squander them. Taking or keeping what belongs to another is not made just because it has ceased to be regarded as dishonourable, because it is condoned by a section of public opinion, because it is regarded as sharp practice rather than full and complete dishonesty, because it can be cloaked so as to escape the full punishment of the law. It is unjust whether the owner is an individual, a company, a corporate body, or the State. Many who would scruple robbing or cheating an individual seem to have no scruple in robbing the State or a public body, or a company such as an insurance or transport company. In this matter the outlook of some of the people of our country is not sound. There are historical reasons for this outlook, but they are certainly not valid at the present time. There is now no valid reason for unscrupulousness with regard to property owned by the State, by corporate or associated bodies. Let those who are guilty in this matter not decide themselves. They are guilty of injustice. They will have to render an account to the just Judge.

PETTY THEFT

There are some who would not think of grave injustice but who have no scruple about petty thefts. They continually steal or pilfer small amounts, or in business dealings they continually commit small injustices. Petty thefts are not in themselves grave sins, unless a person has the intention of stopping only when a considerable amount has been taken. In this case he sins grievously from the beginning, not on account of the quantity taken each time, but on account of the intention to steal a large amount. Even for petty thefts there is the obligation to restitution and this obligation certainly becomes grave when the thief has amassed a considerable amount by his thefts. In addition to being sinful, small thefts dull the conscience and prepare the way for grave sins of injustice. No one becomes suddenly wicked. No thief begins with a big theft.

EMPLOYERS AND WORKERS

Masters are bound to pay the wages of their employees. “The labourer is worthy of his hire.” (Luke x. 7). The refusal to pay wages, honestly earned, is one of the sins which cry to Heaven for vengeance. If the state of the business can afford it, they should pay their employees a living wage, that is a wage which will enable a well-conducted and thrifty workman to support himself and his family in decency and reasonable comfort. The first charge on any business should be the provision of a livelihood for those who work in it-the master and owner included. Workers are in their turn bound in justice to work diligently and well, to give just and sufficient labour for the wages they receive, “not defrauding but in all things showing good fidelity.” (Titus. 11. 10). They have the same obligation to give honest labour, to earn their wages whether the employer is an individual, a company, a public body or the State. The employees of the State are especially bound, because the public good is in question, to do their duty honestly and well, giving justice to all, rich and poor, without fear or favour, without regard to wealth, influence or position. The State also and all corporate bodies have their obligations of justice and restitution just as private persons.

UNJUST KEEPING

As it is not lawful to steal, it is not lawful to keep stolen goods. It is not lawful to buy them. It is not lawful to buy goods which may be reasonably suspected to have been stolen. Such suspicion can arise by reason of the nature of the goods, the condition of the person selling them, or the low price asked for them. It is generally unlawful to buy from children without their parents’ consent. There would not be so much injustice in the world if so many were not willing to buy or keep stolen goods. A person may say that if he does not buy them another will. In that case it is the other who sins, and who will have to make restitution. But even though goods have not been stolen, even though they have come into your possession by honest means, it is unlawful to keep them against the will of the owner. Loans and deposits must be paid back at the specified time. Things found must be returned to their owners. If a person finds an article and takes it into his possession he does not hereby own it. Finding is not a title to ownership. He is bound to return it to the lawful owner. If he does not know who is the owner, he must take reasonable steps to find out. The more valuable the property is, the greater the obligation to restore it, and the more careful and diligent should be the search for the owner. The finder can demand compensation for the labour and expense of seeking the owner and taking care of his property. The decent owner will show his gratitude in tangible form. But even if the owner is ungrateful, the property must be returned to him. It is his. He has the right to its possession. When there is no longer any hope of finding the owner the finder can keep it as his own.

DEBTS

The chief way in which people may sin by unjustly keeping what belongs to another is by refusal to pay their debts. The refusal to pay debts is not always regarded as dishonourable. It is not even regarded as unjust and sinful. The commonness of debt is an evil of our time. it is partly due to modern business methods, according to which payment is often made for goods delivered over a certain period and people are made used to owing. It is sometimes due to dealers urging people, whose credit is good, to take goods, and pay for them later on when they are able. Dealers should not urge goods on people unless they can pay for them then and there. A lifetime of debt is sometimes begun in that way. There is also the system of easy payments which are by no means easy payments in the long run; as they include payment of interest, and usually high interest, as well as the principal. People going into debt may forget that as a rule they are paying interest on what they owe as long as they owe it. In most cases, if it were possible and feasible, it would be better for them to borrow the money at a definite interest and pay then and there for the goods they require. They would at least know where they stand.

GOING INTO DEBT

Some debts are necessary. They are made necessary by illness, sudden losses, unforseen misfortunes. In the spring people may leave to go into debt to buy seeds and manures. They hope to be able to pay after the harvest. There must be a serious will and intention to pay such necessary debts. Others go into debt without necessity. It is not sinful if they are able to pay and seriously intend to pay. But it is most unwise. They are putting the first halter around their necks. They are perhaps beginning to be debtors all their lives. Sin and, when the matter is grave, grave sin begins when people incur debts without the intention or the hope of paying them, when they are in debt and make no effort to meet their creditors’ request for payment, or worse still, when instead of trying to pay what they owe, they contract new debts, adding load upon load to their consciences. Still graver injustice is committed when they deny their debts, if the creditor cannot enforce them, or when they seek the protection of the civil courts, and do not make a full and honest statement of their means. All these are the same as theft. They are less honourable than theft as in the case of theft the owner would take steps to protect his property.

PAYMENT OF DEBTS

If you really cannot pay your debts you do not commit sin by not paying them. No one is bound to do what is impossible. Those who, through no fault of their own, are genuinely unable to pay deserve compassion and kind treatment. Their inability must be genuine. They must cut down their expenses to what is strictly necessary and try to put themselves in a position to pay. Many say that they cannot pay, but their inability is surely not genuine. They have money for everything else, for pleasure, for amusements, for holidays, for fine clothes, even for gambling and drink, even for vice. They deny themselves and their families nothing. They are better off in the eyes of the world, and more carefree in their lives than those to whom they owe, who are often at their wits ends to pay their way, because they cannot get what is owed to them. But it would be better and wiser for them to pay now. The day of reckoning is only postponed.

The golden rule is the rule of St. Paul: “Owe no man anything but to love one another.” (Rom. xiii. 8). Be slow to go into debt. Pay if you can. Buy nothing unnecessary unless you can pay here and now. If you must incur debts, make up your mind to pay them as soon as possible. Deny yourself all luxuries and all things unnecessary, until you have paid what you owe. Then you will feel happy and safe in conscience. You will feel independent. You can look the whole world in the face because you owe not any man.

UNJUST INJURY

When a person steals or refuses to pay his debts he is enriching himself at the expense of another. But he can commit injustice without becoming any richer thereby, without deriving any profit from it, when he injures another in his property. The injury must be unjust and culpable, knowingly and deliberately committed. One may inflict injury on another by an act which is lawful and which one has every right to perform. This is not unjust injury. Unjust injury comes from an act which is unjust and unlawful in itself, and which one has no right to perform, such as injuring or damaging another’s house, his lands, his crops or his fences. Deliberate malicious injury to private property, directly intended, is comparatively rare. Injury to property is more commonly committed by negligence, by leaving gates open, by carelessness of people with regard to property or vehicles entrusted to their care. If this negligence is gross and culpable, fully conscious and deliberate, there is an obligation to reparation of the injury done. In the case of State or public property there is sometimes no scruple in destroying or damaging it. There is often no thought of the injury done, no apparent realisation of the injustice committed. But the law which prohibits injury to the property of your neighbour, also prohibits injury to public property. The prohibition is no less grave because no single individual is injured. Public order and the public good are injured and this is more important than injury to individuals.

MANNER OF RESTITUTION

A word about the manner in which restitution should be made. It should be made as soon as possible. If it is in existence, the stolen object should be restored. If consumed or destroyed its value should be restored. Loss suffered by the owner from being deprived of his property should be compensated. If the owner is dead restitution should be made to his heir’s. If all cannot be restored, then as much as possible should be restored. If restitution cannot be made now, there should be a firm intention to make it if it is possible. The person bound to restore must do his best to make restitution possible. He is bound to put himself to inconvenience to do this, to inconvenience in proportion to the amount owed. If he makes no serious effort and is willing to suffer no inconvenience in order to make reparation, it is a sure sign that he has not a serious and genuine will to do so. The obligation to restitution is not removed because others are associated with the injustice. Not only those who do the actual injury and those who take or keep the stolen goods, but also those who knowingly and effectively help in the theft or injury as well as those who did not prevent it when they were bound by their office or position to do so have obligations to restitution. Lastly, it the owner is not now known or cannot now be found, goods unjustly acquired or their value must be given to charity or pious purposes. By the law of God no one is allowed to become rich on injustice.

PRACTISE HONESTY

The rule for true Christians is to have a firm will to be strictly honest in all their dealings, to take nothing which belongs to another, no matter how small, to be more anxious to give in charity than to take in injustice. It is the first duty of a man and of a Christian to be strictly honest, to respect the rights of others, to give everyone his own. You must reject all covetous thoughts in the beginning. This is so important that God has given us a special commandment-”thou shalt not covet they neighbours’ goods” to save us from the beginnings of dishonesty, in our thoughts. Children should be taught from their earliest years to be strictly honest, to take nothing, however little, which does not belong to them. If this is continually urged on them in their childhood and youth, it will have an effect for their whole lives. Parents should teach them by example, by the honesty of their own lives. Children should not be allowed to take even the property of their parents without permission. The taking may not be very wrong, because the parents are not very unwilling, but it gives the children bad habits, which may last through life. Parents should practise economy, thrift and order in their lives, and teach these virtues to their children. By giving them these good habits they will help them to be always honest and independent.

REMOVE CAUSE OF DISHONESTY

You must, if it is necessary, remove the causes of dishonesty. In addition to the covetousness of our fallen nature, which can be remedied with the help of the grace of God and respect for his law, there are, in these days, many causes of dishonesty. There is the longing for amusement and pleasure, the desire of worldly honours, position and influence, the desire for social position, to keep up appearances, to live a life of ease or elegance. There is the passion for spending, for squandering, for living above one’s means. If you wish for the end, you must will the means. If you wish to abjure dishonesty you must also remove the causes. None of these causes are sufficient to excuse dishonesty. They may palliate the offence before men. They will not justify it before God. To give every one his own is a primary duty of man to himself, to his fellow men and to God. Until he does this he has no right to amusement, to social position or worldly grandeur. Those who are rich can be munificent. Those who are not should cut the cloth according to their measure.

GAMBLING AND DRINK

Two causes of dishonesty deserve special mention, namely: gambling and drink. Neither are in themselves sinful when used in moderation and within the limit of one’s means. But both have the same danger. They tend to become passions. They tend to make their addicts their slaves, to lessen their self-respect and their sense of honesty. They make them less reliable, less capable of honest endeavour. All should try to avoid the temptation to these vices, to resist in the beginning, not to let the habit grow upon them. When the habit is formed resistance is difficult and entails a long struggle to conquer it. People are tempted to both vices by the longing for excitement, by a false notion of legitimate recreation. A common occasion is idleness. In the past, boys were led to drink by occasions offered on days free from work, such as holidays of obligation. We should return to the Catholic tradition and keep holy the holidays of obligation, closing all places of business and especially all public houses on these days. They are intended to be days of prayer and devotion, of rest and legitimate recreation, not days of dissipation during which the seeds of bad habits are sown. We should realise fully the dignity of labour, remembering the life of our Divine Lord who for our example took a worker for His foster-father and was Himself a worker, remembering also that willingness to work is an essential quality of true manhood and the root of all true self-respect and independence.

CONCLUSION

“Some distribute their goods and grow richer, others take away what is not theirs and. are always in want.” (Prov. xi. 24). Ill-gotten goods do not generally make a person rich. They go quickly. They lead to poverty. They bring unhappiness, and misfortune on the dishonest person and if not on him, on his house. The price will be paid even in this world before many generations have passed. “This is the curse that goeth over the face of the earth . . and it shall come to the house of the thief . . and it shall remain in the midst of his house and shall consume it with the timbers thereof and the stones thereof.” (Zach. v. 5). No man can ensure the prosperity of his family by ill-gotten goods. “He that gathereth together by wronging his own soul, gathereth together for others, and another will squander all his goods.” (Eccles. xiv. 4). He cannot ensure his own enjoyment of them even for a day. By a single stroke of fortune he may lose all. Or the Lord may say to him: “Thou fool, this night do they demand thy soul of thee, and whose then shalt these things be which thou hast provided?” (Luke xii. 20). Even if, as sometimes happens, ill-gotten goods bring worldly success and happiness, honour, social position, power and influence, “what shall it profit a man if he gain the whole world and suffer the loss of his soul?” Or what shall a man give in exchange for his soul?” (Mark viii. 36–37 ). There is no exchange worth while for the salvation of your soul. It is better to hearken to the earnest exhortation of St. Paul. “We entreat you, that you use your endeavour to be quiet, that you do your own business, and work with your own hands as we commanded you, and that you walk honestly towards them that are without and that you want nothing of any man’s.” (I Thess. iv.ii.). By honest work and endeavour you may not always secure the riches of this world. You will secure the riches of eternity, the inexpressible reward of eternal life. May this reward come to you, and may the blessing of Almighty God, Father, Son and Holy Ghost, descend upon you and remain with you for ever.

Nihil Obstat:

Carolus Doyle, S.J., Censor Theol. Deput.

Imprimi Potest:

© JOANNES CAROLUS,

Archiep. Dublinen.,

Hiberniae Primas.

Dublini, die 30 Septembris, 1942.

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The Spirit of Mary Mackillop

MOTHER MARY OF THE CROSS

INDEX

CANONISED ON OCTOBER 17TH 2010

(First Published 1936).

THE SPIRIT OF MOTHER MARY OF THE CROSS

―God’s Will, the End of Life,‖ is the title of one of the most beautiful sermons of Cardinal [Blessed John Henry] Newman. As we seek for the dominating virtue of Mother Mary, we find immediately that the beacon of her life was the Will of God, that everything she did or said (and we might justly include everything she purposed, even in thought), was, under the directing force of God’s Will, revealed to Her in life’s happenings and in the ordinances of her lawful superiors. The Divine Master Himself thought it well to emphasis His own complete subservience to His Father’s Will: ―Whatever is pleasing to my Father, that I do always.‖ (St John 8:29.) In proportion as we keep unswervingly to this attitude of mind, to this directing of our wills, so do we approximate to the command: ―Be you all perfect, as your Heavenly Father is perfect.‖ (St. Matthew 5:48.)

An old Sister of St Joseph, who shared Mother Mary’s sorrows and trials, writes: ―It seems to me that Mother Mary’s life, from the beginning of the Institute until her end, was one long martyrdom. Her endurance, both physical and mental, was very great. She was often treated unjustly, persecuted, and had to endure calumny and humiliations. This coming from those she loved made her feel it the more keenly. One time Mother Mary said: ―When I am gone, our Congregation will flourish. I have made the way smooth for those who will come after me. I have had uphill work; but my sweet Jesus knew what was best for me, and I thank him for giving me something to suffer for His sake.‖

FIRM IN HER RESOLVE

Thus, early in religious life—when she was barely 24—Mary set before herself the fulfillment of God’s Will as the only motive that swayed her; and to the end she never faltered in her resolve to be guided ever by God’s Will. Thus we find that,when she was fighting the battle to keep the school’s free from Government help and interference, she wrote: ―We know that He (God) will make His will known to His faithful servants who are troubled on your account, and perhaps, scandalized at what they do not understand of our spirit.‖

At the time, many of the influential among the clergy objected to her refusing Government help, as Catholic resources were so meager. She was convinced that it was God’s Will that she should refuse Government help, that her teachers might be free to instruct the children in their Faith in a more complete way than the conditions of the Government help allowed.

That she was merely seeking to know God’s will is clear, from her accepting, without demur, the changes made at Rome in the original Constitutions touching on this very question of poverty.

Her circular letters are full of this seeking of the Will of God- indeed we may safely claim that it is the keynote to all of them. It was usually expressed in this form: ―May God’s Holy Spirit direct all: that a pure intention of seeking His Glory in doing His Will may guide all- we must pray most earnestly.‖

GOD’S WILL

Often does the fulfilling of God’s Will demand real heroism of her: ―I do indeed feel,‖ she writes, ―such a grateful love of God when He denies me my natural desires—even when they sometimes seem best . . . I do so long to love God, and be grateful to Him when He denies me anything I expect.‖ In another letter we find: ―At Mass, Communion prayers, and any duty I am engaged in, I can think of nothing but giving myself with my whole heart to the Will of God . . . and giving myself thus takes from me the power of even in the smallest thing repining at what He sends to myself or to those I love. . . . . . I am willing to be in darkness or suspense all my life, and to suffer eternal darkness in the next, provided I hate not my God there as well as serve Him so coldly here—anything, so long as the Will of God be done in me and in all my creatures. . . . . It is only my own faults, my old coldness, that keep me back from Him, and yet, were the choice left to me, and I knew it to be His Will, I could ask Him to let me serve Him thus, as no other suffering could be suffering to me with His Holy Will.‖

When the news of the Holy Father’s troubles of 1870 reached Adelaide, Mother Mary exclaimed: ―The Will of God is at work there too . . . God will be glorified.‖ When in 1871, she met with the outstanding cross of her own life, [Bishop Sheil’s hasty and illconsidered excommunication order,] she could write: ―I do not know how to describe the feeling, but I was intensely happy, and felt nearer to God than I had ever felt before. The sensation of the calm, beautiful presence of God I shall never forget.‖ In 1872, after the death of Bishop Sheil [and his lifting of the excommunication], there were many sad happenings for the Church in South Australia. Mother Mary, in writing to Father Woods, said: ―May God’s Holy ends be worked out in all these sad things.‖ Of herself she writes later in the same year: ―Our good God sees that I must not have comfort, at least, not much, from those I know he loves; so I must go on praying that He may do what he pleases with me, and give me true comfort only in Himself in Heaven, and in His Will on earth.‖

An oldSister quotes from notes of Mother Mary’s spiritual conferences: ―We have no will of our own, but must do and follow the path which is traced out for us . . . so God’s Holy Will, more of the Cross, and a long, weary life and rest only when he will go to Him.‖ When worried and anxious, in 1877, she wrote: ―Let us do the Will of Him we love, and not by one wilful sigh wish for life or death, but as He pleases; so that no shadow of earthly will or self remain in hearts chosen by the God of Love for Himself.‖

TRUST IN GOD

―Don’t be troubled about the future of the Institute; I am not. He Whose work it is will take care of it.‖ How this reflects those beautiful words of Holy Writ: ―Cast your care upon the Lord, for He has care of you.‖ (Ps. 54:23) ―Let us all resign ourselves into His hands, and pray that in all things He may guide us to do His Holy Will. . . . . When thoughts of this or that come I turn to Him and say: ‗Only what you will, my God. Use me as You will.’‖

We have quoted enough from Mother Mary’s writings to show that, in all life’s happenings, she placed herself entirely and exclusively in God’s hands. Sorrows and trials in abundance were her lot; yet she saw in them the shadow of God’s hands, lifted in blessing.

THE THEOLOGICAL VIRTUES—FAITH, HOPE AND CHARITY

The Church looks especially to the theological virtues in the soul of one for whom we may, with every deference to the supreme authority of the Church, claim special holiness. Hence we proceed to deal with these as revealed in Mother Mary, though they are really essential elements in all virtues and are thus shown throughout every phase of Mother Mary’s life.

HER GREAT FAITH

Faith involves seeing God’s hand in everything that happens. This was Mother Mary’s invariable habit of mind, arising from her deep conviction that God is over all. Thus she writes from Sydney in 1883, whither she was compelled to go, far from her beloved daughters in Adelaide, under a cloud, which was as heavy and distressing as it was undeserved: ―We have much sorrow and are still suffering but sorrow or trial lovingly submitted to does not prevent our being happy; it rather purifies our happiness, and in doing so draws our hearts nearer to God. That such may be the same with all of us, my dear Sisters, I earnestly pray. I think we can all honestly admit that we wanted some external cross to make us among ourselves what true Sisters of St. Joseph and humble spouses of a suffering and most charitable God should be.‖

―You mus t know, dear ones, how often Charity was thoughtlessly wounded, how often deviations from obedience in little matters were made, how often criticism and murmuring were indulged in. These and similar faults had to be corrected, and our good God has chosen His own way. It is but right that He should let the heaviest part of the Cross fall upon your Mother, who was so little able to be to you what the Mother-General of such an Institute should be. I am glad that it should be so, and oh, my dearly-loved Sisters, listen to me now, and if you do what I ask you, you will indeed be happy, and my sorrow shall not have been in vain.‖

Yet, as must be expected, she at times had to make heroic efforts to bear patiently the heavy crosses which, as Mother Mary of the Cross, she was to have all her life. An old Sister said: ―Mother sometimes would be in a state of depression (desolation of spirit is frequent with holy souls). I would ask her to tell me what was troubling her. On one of these occasions she said: ‗Alas, I see that I have not made the best use of the means so lovingly placed at my disposal. Too sadly forgetful of the end of my creation, I have turned God’s gifts against Himself by my impatience under trial, my not recognizing His Will on every occasion, my disturbance of heart when those I loved seemed to turn against me.’‖

HER VIRTUE OF HOPE

It is almost needless to make of this a separate heading, as her whole life was saturated with this theological virtue. The many difficulties which she faced courageously throughout her whole life; the insistent references of the solution to them to the God Whose interests alone she had at heart; her prayers to Him, which breathed confidence in His help and guidance: all bespeak the possession of the supernatural habit of hope in a marked degree. ―One of the most remarkable features in the character of Mother Mary was her self-control under all circumstances. Despite the trials of government, poverty, debt, persecution, she was always uncomplaining, even-tempered, and approachable. It was so much easier to admire these virtues than to explain them with justice.‖ So writes one who knew her well. We can surely explain them as being the obvious possessions of one who was grounded solidly in the theological virtues of Faith, and Hope and Charity.

To a Sister who was lacking in courage she writes: ―Oh, do have more courage under your little disappointments and trials; they are intended by your Divine Spouse to do your soul much good and lead you closer to Him. . . . . . I knowthat out of all our hearts’ troubles He will bring glory to Himself.‖ And again: ―God is all-powerful, and can do all things, but of ourselves we can never be sure of that all which looks good is really so. . . . . . ‖ ―We are in the hands of the Holy See.Let’s all remember this and let none be afraid.‖ Thus she writes from Rome in 1874, while waiting for the decision on the rule.

Writing to Bishop Reynolds, Cardinal Simeoni, the Prefect of the Congregation of Bishops and Regulars, said: ―Sister Mary conducted herself in Rome in such a manner as plainly to confirm the high opinion you expressed to us of her virtue.‖ And as that meant Mother Mary had complete trust in Christ’s Vicar, it again reveals how she had made her own the great virtue of hope in God.

HER CHARITY

True charity includes the love of God and the love of one’s neighbour. Mother Mary’s whole life was inspired, directed and controlled by the love of God. Her prayers, her writings, her advice to others are full of charity. Archbishop Vaughan dwelt especially on the charity of Christ in them, which found a way to meet the wants of the scattered population of the Australian bush, as it did to meet every want of suffering humanity, spiritual or temporal, as that want happened to arise.

An old Sister who knew her well said: ―From the first I met Mother Mary, she greatly impressed me, for her manner was most lovable and courteous. . . . . No matter how busy she was, she always found time to comfort all who came to her in difficulties and distress. Her love of the poor, especially poor children, was wonderful. . . . . . When on visitation she found some Sisters badly off, sometimes bearing cold and hunger, the rain pouring into some of the rooms, Mother said: ―Sisters, here I find you very good and happy, generously bearing your privations with a spirit of contentment.’ But Mother quickly had things made more comfortable for them.‖

Another tells that Mother Mary’s charity was in word and work right throughout her life. ―I never knew her to be aware of trouble or distress that she did not make an effort to her relieve. Never did I hear her speak of or refer to the good that she had done for another; she did it solely for God. Mother’s sprit was always to give place and preference to other Religious Orders, and this she embodied in her rule.

―When the Dominican Nuns came to Adelaide, she went to the Vicar -General and offered our convent in Franklin Street to them, while she went to reside in a little cottage in Gouger Street. And when the Sisters of Mercy came, Mother took them round our schools and offered any one of them to the new Order. They took the Russell Street School. Also Mother cheerfully gave the convent and school at Gawler to the Sisters of the Good Samaritan.‖

Another of the companions wrote: ―Mother was always very charitable to her Sisters in hours of trial, as well as to outsiders. Sister Ita’s mother was dying. Mother sent Sister Ita to look after her and to do whatever was necessary for her. . . . . I was sent as a companion, and we stayed a week, as long as we were needed. . . . . In the Mother House she was always most attentive to the sick; she would sit with them and help them in every way, besides doing whatever was necessary.

―I knew of some instances where Sisters laid aside their habits, through stress of trial or because of weak virtue and afterwards repented and applied to be received back into the Institute. If they had given no scandal by their defection, Mother Mary would receive them back with the consent of the Ordinary.‖

This same writer gives other instances like this one. No one can doubt that it was a great charity of Mother Mary to forgive such lapses, and to do all in her power to pour balm upon the wounds of the repentant ones. In this she surely shows that the love of God and of her neighbour was the directing influence of her life.

HER SPIRIT OF PRAYER

Mother Mary, who was so definitely the spiritual pupil of Father Woods, could scarcely avoid being a soul whose very life was that of prayer. One had but to glance through her spiritual writings to see that union with God in prayer is the keynote of them, just as the colourful sermons and spiritual exhortations of Father Woods reflect a soul soaked in prayer. That Mother Mary invariably was strengthened for her many staggering trials by God’s grace, acquired in prayer, is abundantly evident. When word reached her that her mother had been drowned in the wreck of the Ly-eeMoon, she immediately went to the Oratory and remained two hours before the Blessed Sacrament. Father O’Neill writes: ―Mother Mary’s love of prayer, her spirit of recollection, is praised by those that associated with her. Many have told us of her adoration occasions like the Holy Thursday Exposition as resembling ecstasy; her face seemed to beam with an unearthly light, her soul to have lost all consciousness of earthly surroundings.‖

It is in the colloquies, running like a golden thread through her book of meditations, that we get a glimpse at the richness of her union with God and her spirit of prayer. Thus, in the ―Agony in the Garden‖, she cried out: ―Still, prostrate in spirit, my soul, promising the agonizing Saviour, in this hour of lonely sorrow, that thou wilt try, with His Holy Grace, closely to imitate this holy resignation . . . My loving Redeemer, yes, I will, with Thy Holy Grace, at last to be true to Thee. I will no more cause Thee to suffer as I have done, and, O my Jesus, I will not sleep on in cruel forgetfulness of Thy deep, deep love for me and for the souls of men. I will now rouse myself, and in Thy Holy Name and that of Thy sweet Mother, try to lead all hearts to arise from the sleep of sin and watch for the love of Thee.‖ This prayer is a consequence of the meditation on the Apostles sleeping when Our Lord was in His agony.

She reaches sublime heights in the meditations on the Crucifixion : ―O mother of matchless love, and sweet Queen of Martyrs, look now with pity upon my sorrowing heart. . . . . . My heart is weary, and the sight of the injuries I have done to my God and to Thee would fill me with despair, but that I know thee to be a Mother, of compassion and pity. . . . . . Oh, my crucified God, behold me, the guilty cause of Thy most cruel death, oh, behold me now in true contrition of heart at the foot of Thy cross. See beneath thy mantle of compassion and love and tell my Jesus that no more will I cause him to suffer for my sins. I will hate and avoid them. I will mourn with thee, my Mother, over the wrongs they caused my Jesus; I will, indeed, love him now, and will show my love for Him by the undying confidence with which I will cling to thee, the sorrowing Mother of my crucified God.‖

Clearly a soul which could express itself so sublimely is a soul, immersed in God, living a life of prayer. She learnt well, from her director, Father Woods, to love Marywith an ardent love: ―Mother, sweet Mother, oh, let us not ask in vain. We are thy children; we are in danger, weak, and ready to fall. We hold out our hands to thee. Oh, Mother, sweet Mother, forgiving, gentle Mother, thanks. We are in thine arms. Bless us, keep us there.‖

DEVOTION TO ST JOSEPH

She shows all the feeling of her heart in addressing her beloved patron, St Joseph: ―God had chosen us to be placed in this Institute under the fostering care of His own dear Foster-Father. Ah, glorious saint, we are indeed favoured, and we have always been favoured. Even when many among us were almost strangers to my name, how little we thought that thou wert, with all a tender father’s love, assisting the angels who had the charge of us, and obtaining those graces for us which at last brought us safely into religion. Ah, what storms and dangers hast thou not, by thy constancy of heart, guided us through; and now that thou seest us here together, dost thou think that thy work is finished, and are we to believe that thou hast no more to do with us? Ah, no, most glorious Father; thou art still our father, and thy love for us, they poor, helpless children, is greater than ever. . . . . We, in our turn, have thee as our guide and example in the pursuit of perfection. Thy humble and hidden life must be our model. We have to make ourselves perfect children of so perfect a Father, and we can do this only in imitating thy rare and hidden virtues.‖

A FRIEND’S IMPRESSION

Father Francis Clune. C.P., told the writer that he learnt to know the spiritual life of Mother Mary well in the early years of this century. He assured us that, in his opinion, she had reached a high degree of sanctity. Never had he met a soul more solidly grounded in the love of God, or more Christ-like. Nothing seemed ever to disturb her calm. The most appalling happenings in no way shook her absolute conviction that all was for the best, as God ruled everything. Her confidence in prayer was a revelation. He knew her to spend six hours before the Blessed Sacrament after a particularly heavy cross came her way. She emerged from her long vigil before her Sacramental Lord in almost a cheerful frame of mind. She had so schooled herself trust in God’s loving care that she marveled that anyone could do otherwise. This gave her a remarkable stability and equability of temperament. Her life was ruled ever by the highest supernatural principles. When paralysed, she sometimes could not help dissolving in tears. Though she could not help it, and this weakness could in no sense be attributed to her conscious loss of control, she yet feared that the Sisters seeing her thus afflicted might be disedified. ‗She, the Mother Foundress, should give a better example.’‖

Father Clune said that we must not omit to record her keen sense of humour. She was a genuine troubadour of the Lord, scattering joy whenever she went. Many’s the time she cheered up despondent Sisters. In this she imitated St. Ignatius Loyola, who once danced Spanish dances to drive away gloom from a despondent religious. This joy in the Lord is what St. Paul demanded: ―Rejoice in the Lord always.‖ It is a sure sign that the joyous soul has cast all his care upon the Lord, Who has care of him.

UNITED WITH GOD

The colloquies in meditation came naturally to this holy soul, and this is a sure sign that a soul thus favoured is closely knit to God. One would seek far before finding a prayer richer in theological truth and more indicative of union with God then her mediation on the Three Classes of Men. Passing to the Three Degrees of Humility of the Ignatian Exercises, she shows that she has, with God’s grace, reached the sublimest of them—the third degree.

―With this sweet exercise I had already determined to die rat her than ever willingly offend God in any known matter, whether mortal or venial. But now I must not stop there. My Jesus wants more, and I have already determined, with the help of His grace; to give Him a perfect service, as perfect as my weakness and misery will allow. Thanks to Thy sweet love, for the grace also I desire, I long to come as near to Thee as I can. I feel ashamed of leading an easy, petted life. Thine was one of humiliation and self-denial. I long to share Thy sufferings, Thy humiliations. And, if it pleases Thee, I long to be despised by all the world for Thy sake. If Thou shouldst so favour me as to bring me nearer to Thee in sorrow and humiliation, I trust that, though nature may be tempted to rebel, Thy grace will prove stronger, and as it is in it that I put my trust, I fearlessly ask Thee again, my Jesus, to do with me what Thou pleasest. And I earnestly entreat my Immaculate Mother and dear Father St Joseph to plead for me that my past infidelities may not now deprive me of the joy and happiness of suffering as Thou, my Jesus, pleasest, through whom, and by what means, and under what circumstances, I care not. I make no conditions, I have no known reserves. If my heart should fail, if loved ones should turn against me, or if I have the pain of causing them sorrow, what matter, my Jesus, so there be no sin, and that we all, though, perhaps, working differently, seek Thee only, Thy Will and Thy good pleasure.‖

HER SPIRITUAL LIFE, REVEALED IN RETREATS

Perhaps we shall more surely gras p Mother Mary’s spiritual life from the retreat notes lovingly preserved by one of her early companions, sill living. Mother always began her meditations or examens with: ―May Jesus and Mary be praised! Let us place ourselves in the presence of our God, of Our God who created us, Our God Who redeemed us, Our God Who sanctified us. Let us bring to this great God all the powers of our minds, our memory, our understanding, our will. Let us humble ourselves before our God, in Whose presence we are not worthy to appear, our Great Creator. We dare not, of ourselves, so much as approach Thee, but, confiding in the merits of our Redeemer, we come to tell Thee that we wish to love Thee, that we wish to please and glorify Thee; we wish to serve Thee faithfully. But in order to do this, we desire to know ourselves, our complete nothingness, our entire dependence on Thee as our first beginning and our last end. . . . .

―O Jesus, Our Divine Model, now our Spouse, one day to be our Most Just Judge, may we never again will ingly offend or disappoint Thy Sacred Heart in word, deed, or thought. Divine Spirit of Wisdom and Goodness, deign, I beseech Thee, to enlighten my mind, penetrate its blindness, guard it against the first, the faintest approach to anything sinful, to anything that can lessen its life of grace . . .

―O Father, Son and Holy Ghost, Blessed and Undivided Trinity, make me in all things what a child of the Institute and a Servant of the Cross ought to be.

―Mary, my Heavenly Mother, Mother of my Divine Spouse, Jesus, I kneel in spirit at thy feet, and entreat Thee to plead for me, that I may so act as to please thy Divine Son, and to merit His blessing and fresh grace. St Joseph, my loved patron, plead for me too. Sweet patron of the hidden life, obtain for me that I may walk in thy footsteps. Dear Angel, my faithful guide, point out to me my many faults, keep ever at my side.‖

RESIGNATION TO GOD’S WILL

There are revealed the highest aspirations after sanctity in prayers like this: ―I resolve, with the help of thy grace, to die any kind of death, or to suffer any kind of pain, either of mind or body, or any other affliction that can befall me, sooner than for one moment commit a deliberate and known sin against God’s love, and the claims He has upon my duty and service. Hitherto I have sadly forgotten my great end, and allowed myself to go on in false security. Now I, with the Prodigal, will arise from my sluggishness; I will come back to Thee, my Eternal Father, restored to Thy love and friendship. I will seek, in the merits of my Saviour’s Passion, full pardon for the past, and such graces as Thou seest necessary for my fidelity in the future, and together with this fidelity, my advancement in the path Thou hast traced out for me.‖

―I will not shrink from any cross or trial, but rather follow Him as closely as possible in the daily and hourly discharge of every duty of my state. If, now and then, some little sacrifice to nature is required, Oh then, my God, let me look up to Thee, and let my faint heart take courage. Let me not prove a coward in Thy service. Let me love to be humiliated and persecuted, and this that I may, during the remainder of this short life, remain as near to Thee, my Jesus, in the thickest of the strife, as in Thy Divine Wisdom Thou art pleased to permit.‖

HELP WITH GOD’S GRACE

Her realization that God’s grace would enable her to triumph over human weakness runs like a theme throughout her prayers at time of retreat. In this she has learnt from St Paul: ―I can do all things in Him who strengthens me.‖ (Phil. 4:13.) ―In my present position I am bound to guard Thy interests faithfully (she was then Mother-General), not only to follow Thee myself, but also to help bring all I can to Thee. Cost weak nature it will, I must be faithful to Thee, my Divine Master; but I must watch Thee well, and regulate my conduct by Thine. Help my weakness, O my Jesus. Help me, my sweet Jesus, with Thy grace, that I may be faithful in the hour of trial. Whatever crosses, trials, or contradictions await me, whatever humiliations or contempt, all are alike when, with the help of Thy grace, they will, I trust, all lead me nearer to Thee.‖

Her striving after holiness is shown by such prayers as the following: ―I shall not give Thee desires only, my Jesus; neither shall I give myself conditionally to Thee. With all my heart I give myself entirely and without any known reserve unto Thee and thy sweet service.‖

―Not only do I wish to save my soul, but, if it be T hy Will, I wish to sanctify it, and this by any means Thou choosest to adopt for me. I have no wish other than to do those things and to follow the path, however rugged, Thou tracest out for me. Be thou my soul’s Physician. Cut, probe, treat me as Thou pleasest. Not trusting in my own strength, not in my present resolution, but in Thy grace, do I make this offering. Dear Jesus, Thou hast every right to my perfect service. I deem it an honour above all honours to leave myself in Thy hands. And I confidently trust Thee for grace to be faithful.

HER OBEDIENCE TO THE POPE

Mother Mary instinctively looked to the Father of Christendom for light and guidance in her work. With her, a descendant of Highlanders, who had suffered for the Faith, and for their loyalty to the Vicar of Christ, the old slogan (―Roma locuta est, causa finita est‖ (―Rome has spoken, the case is finished‖), was paramount.

In 1873, she undertook the long wearisome pilgrimage to the centre of Christendom, humbly to ask Christ’s Vicar for approval or disapproval of her work. She wrote to her mother: ―I go in the discharge of a most sacred and important duty, and have much more to give me courage in this than I can tell you. I am not afraid of the difficulties; they rather make my courage rise. I shall be strengthened, too, by the prayers of my dear Sisters, and of many holy priests.‖. . . . . (She invariably put her trust in prayer—indeed, her whole life was one round of prayer, confident, as she was, that Our Lord’s promise, ―Ask and you shall receive‖, would be fulfilled.)

From Rome she wrote: ―I had not a friend here when I left Adelaide. . . . . . I knew that our dear Lord would not let his work want a friend to advance His interests here, but Monsignor Kirby (Rector of the Irish College) is more than I dared expect. Cardinal Barnabo enquired minutely into many things connected with my voyage, spoke of my title ‗of the Cross’ and of its signification, and altogether, warmly encouraged me. He said that he was much pleased with our struggles, that we had struggled for things of which he highly approved. . . . . On Sunday, the Feast of Pentecost, I had the happiness of seeing the Holy Father (Pius IX) and of obtaining a warm blessing from him for myself and my dear Sisters. . . . . He letme see that the Pope had a father’s heart, and when he laid his loved hand upon my head, I felt more than I will attempt to say.‖

ROME’S DECISION

She had to remain in Europe for nearly a year before Rome’s decision was made known to her. There was a serene patience about her waiting which arose from her perfect confidence in the Holy Father’s judgment, which, as she knew, would be the expression ofGod’s Will. Had she been moved by any motive less spiritual, she would most assuredly have shown it in her correspondence at the time. There is not the slightest hint of anxiety or impatience. Clearly this complete casting of her care upon God, Who had care of her and her Sisters, contributed to her peace of mind during those long months of waiting. It was not till April 21, 1874, that she received from Cardinal Franchi, Minister of Propaganda, the following letter:

―Reverend Mother,—I forward to your maternity the plan of the new rules to be adopted by your Institute, according to the judgment of the learned Consultor of this Sacred Congregation, to whom was committed the examination of those Rules which you forwarded to me. In truth, the former rules, not having being in accordance with the end which the Sisters of St. Joseph have in view, could not have been approved by the Holy See. . . . . In the meantime, I cannot abstain from praising the Sisters of St. Joseph for the good they hope to do in Australia, and for what they have already done in that great Colony.‖

What is to be noted for our purpose is this: Mother Mary not only submitted joyfully to the radical changes in the old rule, made by Rome, but hurried to communicate what she called her good news to many Australian friends, whose feelings, as she trusted, would be in complete consonance with her own. Father O’Neill expressed the situation well when he wrote: ―Mary had come to Rome to obtain the approval, as far as Rome saw good, of those old Constitutions. She had not been consulted as to the alteration of any of them. She awaited, from the hand of God, whatever Pontifical authority should determine respecting herself and her Institute. Now that an approval, together with serious alterations, had come, she welcomed the whole with abounding joy. She saw the young Institute blessed solemnly by the hand of the Church, and in a manner provisioned for a voyage through the centuries to come upon the waves of the world.‖

FURTHER DIFFICULTIES

Fortified by this approval of Rome, Mother Mary was to pursue her troubled way with unswerving confidence. Every new Religious Order must face difficulties. Hers were to be especially severe. Old friends, who had inspired and encouraged her, fell away, because the new rules did not meet with their approval; but they did meet with the approval of the Holy Father, and that was the only approval she appreciated. ―Well dear Sisters,‖ she wrote, ―you find many changes; a new rule, in fact, drawn up. . . . . We know, and fondly believe, that God inspired the idea of the Institute. He did this as he does also every good and holy thought which comes into our minds. But it does not follow that one’s own peculiar ideas do not become mixed up with what is purely God’s in the way of carrying a thing out. How many instances have we not had among ourselves and those dear to us of such a mistake being made! God is allpowerful and can do all things, but of ourselves we can never be sure that all which looks good is really so. We can never pronounce, with a certainty of being right; but when we submit our difficulty to the Holy See, we may be sure that we are right in following its light in the matter rather than our own, or that of anyone dear to us.‖

LOYALTY TO THE HOLY FATHER

Her love of the Holy Father was shown later, when the troubles in Rome were causing him grief and anxiety. She wrote thus to Monsignor Kirby: ―I wish to express to you our very great sorrow at the continued troubles of our Holy Father. The saintly Pontiff is an object of admiration and astonishment even to his enemies. Oh, how I longed to give him some expression of the sorrow and love of this Institute! May I dare ask, kneeling in spirit at his venerated feet, for one more blessing from him for myself and Sisters? We have arranged to have a novena in all our convents and schools before the feast of SS. Peter and Paul, and this for our Holy Father’s intention at that time.‖

Mother Mary received from Dr Grant, at the close of June, 1877, a letter w hich gave her great joy: ―Now . . . I have only one thing to say, namely, that your conduct is thoroughly approved at Rome. Cardinal Franchi, who received your letter, has charged me to answer for him, and to say from him that what you are doing is well done, and that you shall have his support and encouragement in carrying out plans as to your Order, they being quite in conformity with what he thinks just and right, and for the best in all the circumstances.‖

SOME CHARACTERISTIC SAYINGS

True Charity:

―My own dear Sisters, do all you can to bear with one another and to love one another in God and for God. We must expect to receive crosses; we know that we give them. What poor, faulty nature finds hard to bear, the love of God and zeal in His service will make sweet and easy. Try always to be generous with God.‖

The Institute God’s Work:

―Don’t be troubled about the future of the Institute; I am not. He Whose work it is will take care of it. Let us all resign ourselves into His hands, and pray that in all things He may guide us to do His holy will. When thoughts of this or that will come, I turn to Him and say: ‗Only what You will, my God. Use me as You will.’‖

A Welcome to the Cross:

My only anxiety is lest I should fall in a sorrow or humiliation He should put upon me. I cannot say with God’s faithful servants that I love humiliations; but I know they are good for me, and if He sends them I hope I shall be grateful.‖

Simple Obedience:

―Beware of self mixing up with the work of God. Fear your own judgement; never let reasonings come between you and obedience.‖

Respect for Priests:

―I had rather a dagger were thrust into my heart than hear a word said amongst us against priests—the anointed of God.‖

All for God Only:

―Let us do the will of Him we love, and not by one wilful sigh wish for life or death but as He pleases, and when He pleases; so that no shadow of earthly will or self remain in hearts chosen by the God of Love for Himself.‖

PRAYER

O God, who wills not that any soul should perish, but that all should be converted and live, grant, we beseech You, success to good work begun for Your Name by Your servant Mary of the Cross, and deign so to glorify her name before men that an increasing multitude of souls may by her means be brought to eternal salvation. Through Christ Our Lord. Amen.

********

The Stigmata And Modern Science

BY REV. CHARLES M. CARTY

INDEX

The following definition of Stigmatisation given by Fr. Pfulff, S.J., in Kirchenlexicon may be said to represent the mind of the Church and the sentiment of the faithful with regard to the stigmata:

“Stigmatisation consists in participation in the Passion of Christ in a way that is shown outwardly by marks on those parts of the body where Christ bore His wounds. It is a charisma or supernatural gift.”

The external marks of the wounds of Christ are then only the material element of stigmatisation; to be regarded as stigmata in the ecclesiastical sense they must be accompanied by a participation in the sufferings of Christ. And not all marks or wounds, even if they be on those places where Christ bore His wounds, are regarded as even the material element of stigmatisation. To be regarded as stigmata in the ecclesiastical as against the medical meaning of the term, these wounds must not be mere surface marks such as are some-times produced by hypnotism, but must be deep wounds such as, for example, those of St. Francis of Assisi; they must not vanish after a short time but must remain fresh for years without suppurating, and when they bleed they must emit fresh blood. In addition, these wounds which form the material element of stigmatisation must be accompanied by a participation in the physical sufferings of Christ’s Passion and by the profession and pious practice of the true Faith in the Catholic Church, before they can be regarded as stigmata in the strict sense.

The vocation of the stigmatists is to suffer a share of the Passion of Christ-which exceeds all earthly sufferings. St. Margaret Mary Alocoque participated in the agony of Christ in the Garden and felt that death itself could hold nothing so painful for her. What must it be then to share in all the sufferings of the Passion, including the crucifixion, as most of the stigmatists are asked to do? Need we wonder then if Almighty God allows the stigmatists to get a glimpse of Thabor occasionally? Need we wonder if He gives them special gifts? St. Paul says: “we are the sons of God . . . and joint heirs of Christ, yet so, if we suffer with Him, that we may also be glorified with Him.” (Rom. VIII, 16–17).

In the history of the stigmatists, we find that the stigmata were always accompanied with other charismata such as living for years without earthly food, the gift of prophecy, the gift of reading the secrets of the heart, the faculty of distinguishing between sacred and profane objects, the gift of perceiving the presence of the Blessed Sacrament in places hidden from view. In our own day all these charismata are found united in the person of Teresa Neumann. These various charismata that accompany stigmatisation mutually support each other and help to prove that the stigmata are genuine. Conversely, if any fault against faith or morals is detected in the stigmatists by proper authority-the Bishop or the Holy See-it is a sign that the person in question is not corresponding to the graces that go with the stigmata, or that the stigmata were not genuine. But as long as the proper authority issues no condemnation, the faithful need not be disturbed by shrill warnings from unauthorized individuals. In the long list of the stigmatists since St. Francis of Assisi-which Dr. Imbert Gourbeyre puts at 321 up to his time-only a few of those who had real external marks of the Wounds of Christ were found to be unfaithful. A few Catholic writers who hold peculiar views about the stigmata refer to the few cases of lapse with apparent triumph, as if they proved that the possession of the marks of the Wounds of Christ was of no consequence. The extraordinarily high proportion of stigmatists faithful to their glorious but painful vocation, amounting to nearly a hundred per cent, may be attributed to the fact that, in the Providence of God, only those receive the stigmata who have been tried in the crucible of suffering for many years and who have been found faithful.

On this subject I take the following quotation from Mystical Phenomena by Archbishop Teodorowicz:

“Because the stigmata make the most difficult demands on the soul, on its ability and willingness to suffer in its mystical life, these souls must undergo long trials and sufferings. Only after a period of purgation in the glowing flame of pain do the wounds begin to make their appearance . . . Before they themselves appear, they prepare the body by means of manifold suffering, as though it were necessary to cultivate and harden it for continuous suffering. The bestowal of the stigmata is always preceded by corporeal sufferings; and the soul, thus cleansed by pain, is attuned to higher things and trained to valiant courage. . . .

“Practically the same process takes place in all the stigmatists; first severe illness or great interior commotion, then the appearance of one or other wound, rarely all of them together. . . .

“Thus a long illness preceded Teresa Neumann’s stigmatisation. . . . In the measure that the painful sufferings increased and continued, her soul through the mysterious operation of grace became more perfect. The great difference between the condition of her soul at the beginning of her sickness and at the climax of her painful sufferings can be almost perceptibly measured. In the beginning we notice an actual yearning for an active life, against the visitation of the cross. At the end, however, we notice that she dies to all that is not God’s will and is completely resigned to the divine guidance.”

The case of St. Francis of Assisi cannot be regarded as an exception to this rule. It is true that his vocation was to represent the poverty rather than the Passion of Christ, and to perpetuate the idea in a great Religious Order; but when his first mission was fulfilled, he was chosen for the second one, to bear in his body the marks of the glorious wounds of Christ.

The object of Our Divine Lord in granting the stigmata to St. Francis of Assisi and the lesson the faithful are expected to draw from them are expressed in the collect of the Mass for the Impression of the Stigmata of St. Francis. The words of this prayer can be applied to all the stigmatists who came after him:

“O Lord Jesus Christ, who when the world was growing cold, in order that our hearts might burn anew with the fire of Thy Love, didst in the flesh of the most blessed Francis renew the marks of Thy Passion; mercifully grant by his merits and prayers that we may carry our cross and bring forth fruits worthy of penance.”

Some few Catholic writers make St. Francis the criterion by which the genuineness of the other stigmatists is to be judged. Before receiving the stigmata a person should, according to these writers, have arrived at the heights of mystic contemplation, and the conferring of the stigmata should take place while the recipient is in ecstasy of love. No one can lay down rules for the Almighty, nor can we get an idea of His designs from a single instance such as St. Francis of Assisi; particularly when his chief vocation in life was not that connected with the stigmata. If we were to seek the meritorious cause of the favour in the case of St. Francis, we should rather find it in his great compassion for the sufferings of the Saviour combined with his own great sufferings than in seraphic love. As we shall see in greater detail later on, the external marks of the wounds of Christ on Teresa Neumann correspond exactly to those on the hands and feet of St. Francis of Assisi.

There are many books giving lists of the stigmatists all of whom have lived since the time of St. Francis of Assisi but the only attempt at a complete list is made by Dr. Imbert-Gourbeyre, a Paris doctor, who published two volumes on the stigmatists at Paris in 1894. In Dr. Imbert-Gourbeyre’s list are included all those who can lay claim to the title, including those who bore the stigmata invisibly, such as St. Margaret Mary Alocoque, who had an invisible crown of thorns. Out of the list of 321 stigmatists which he gives-of whom 41 were men-62 have been either canonized or beatified, and the causes of many others have been introduced. This is a very high percentage amounting to one in five, and there is a strong presumption that the others, with the exception of a few who did not persevere, were very holy persons. The percentage of canonized among religious does not amount to one in ten thousand.

Out of this list of 321 stigmatists (which some think should be 400 if all who have a claim are included) there are four test cases which have completely defeated the efforts of those critics who argue that natural causes are sufficient to explain stigmatisation. Qualified opinion now regards those four cases as miraculous. They are the cases of St. Francis of Assisi and Teresa Neumann, whose stigmata have the form of fleshy nails; and of St. Mary Francis of the Five Wounds and Padre Pio, whose stigmata have the form of fissures penetrating the hands and feet like those in Our Lord’s hands and feet when He was taken down from the cross.

St. Francis of Assisi received the stigmata in September 1224, two years before his death. An account describing his stigmata, written by Thomas de Celano four years after the death of the Saint, has come down to us. According to that account, the stigmata of St. Francis were not in the form of wounds made by the nails, but of the nails themselves; and in the Bull of Alexander IV (1255) it is stated: “In his hands and feet, St. Francis had most certainly nails, well formed, of his own flesh or of a substance newly produced.” St. Bonaventure adds that he was informed by people who had seen the stigmata that the heads of those nails in his hands and feet were round and that the points were bent like nails that had been clinched. The points of the nails in the feet projected so far that a person’s finger could be inserted under the bend. In an early picture of St. Francis, now at Pescia, which represents the stigmata on the hands, the head of the nail is shown on the back of the hand and the point, which is turned down as if clinched, is in the palm. Fr. Herbert Thurston, S.J., who had read through Dr. Imbert-Gourbeyre’s two volumes and was satisfied that there were at least fifty or sixty well-attested examples of visible stigmata, stated; “In no one, as far as I am aware, of the fifty or sixty well-attested examples of visible stigmata which have been recorded during the past seven centuries, is anything to be met with which can be put in comparison with these rigid protruding nails.” Fr. Thurston admits that it is in the power of God to produce such a marvel, but he adds, “Very exceptional evidence would be required before a miracle so unexampled in all recorded history could expect to gain credence”; and he continues:

“The marvel described in St. Bonaventure’s Legenda Minor and in the Fioretti is almost startling, and it seems to me that there is much excuse for those who find it easier to explain away the language of Bonaventure and even of Celano than to accept these statements at their face value.”

And a few pages later, Fr. Thurston states:

“No power of auto-suggestion, no abnormal pathological conditions, could enable a contemplative to evolve from the flesh of his hands and feet four horny excrescences in the form of nails piercing his extremities and clinched at the back. Such a manifestation, if it occurs, must surely be held miraculous. The question, however, is whether the evidence allows us to affirm the existence of these excrescences.”

If Fr. Thurston had gone to Konnersreuth, he would have had his doubt settled, for the stigmata on the hands and feet of Teresa Neumann correspond almost exactly to the account of the stigmata of St. Francis given by Celano and St. Bonaventure. As we have in our own time in the person of Teresa Neumann a case of those horny excrescences piercing the hands and feet and clinched at the back which Fr. Thurston regards as evidently miraculous, it is fair to assume that the description of Celano and St. Bonaventure must be taken literally. The extraordinary form of Teresa Neumann’s stigmata has been verified by representatives of the Holy See and photographs have been taken.

Dr. Louis of Versailles visited Konnersreuth in 1930 and examined the stigmata on the hands. The following is how he describes the marks in the left hand in his booklet entitled, “Holy Week at Konnersreuth”:

“On the back of the left hand I see a head of a nail, rectangular in form, slightly longer than wide in the direction of the hand. The rectangle which it forms is admirably regular and has its edges delicately adorned with zig-zag borders. It is about 15mm. by 10mm. These borders are slender and sharp like the edges of a nail forged with a hammer. The head of the nail itself is slightly arched and is round like a dome. The top of the dome itself is about two or three millimetres in thickness. It shows flat marks in several places resembling those produced by a blacksmith’s hammer on a piece of iron. The Colour is reddish brown like a seal of ancient wax.

“I now examine the point of the nail on the palm of the left hand. It is lying on the skin in the hollow of the hand, turned obliquely down as if by a hammer, with the point turned towards the outside of the hand. It emerges, thus bent, for a length of about 15mm. It adheres completely to the skin. It is about 4mm. in thickness and is rough and round in form. It is of the same brownish colour as the head of the nail but the cicatrice border around it is not so well defined.”

This description was written in 1930. A similar description is given by F. X. Huber in his book published in 1950, with the addition that these nails were horn-like formation and that they pierced the hands and feet.

This description by Dr. Louis, shows that the stigmata of Teresa Neumann resemble very closely those of St. Francis of Assisi as described by Celano and St. Bonaventure. Fr. Thurston quotes Catholic writers who think that the description of the stigmata of St. Francis is exaggerated and he inclines to that opinion himself. We therefore give further quotation from F. X. Huber’s book which corroborates the description given by Dr. Louis and show that Teresa Neumann’s stigmata are really horny substances in the form of nails piercing her hands and feet-a form of stigmata for which no natural explanation has even been attempted.

“The stigmata formed gradually; first on the backs of the hands, then in the palms; they were at first open, then the wounds became covered by a scab and surrounded by scar-ring. But these wounds do not bleed outside the Passion ecstasies; neither do they moisten nor discharge; outside the Friday ecstasies they are absolutely dry. They are new growths, hard and horny, around which lies an elastic, delicate membrane which breaks and bleeds during the Passion ecstasy and at the end of it closes again. (cf. Lama, Yearbook, 11–17).

“Inside, on the palm, the marks are narrower and longer. The wounds are exactly alike-something that certainly would not be so if anyone had tried to make them himself.

“The fact is to be emphasized that the wounds on the hands did not first appear where they might be expected to appear-on the palms of her hands-and so for this and many other reasons auto-suggestion as an explanation must be ruled out. They started on the backs of the hands-only later did the marks work through to the palms.

“When the stigmata do not bleed, they are covered by a fine membrane and appear sometimes a deep, dark red, some-times fresh ruby red. According to independent medical evidence they are genuine if they arise without any artificial interference and are obtained without the taking of any action . . .

Dr. Witz noted in 1931:

“On the back of the hands stigmata 9–11mm. wide; in tablet-like relief raised above the surrounding skin about 2–2.5mm., on all sides alike steeply falling edges; surface flat, but glistening.”

“In the Yearbook for 1931, Ritter von Lama again gives the result of several investigations of the changes in the wounds observed at that time. These lay essentially in the fact that a sort of nail forms in the wounds and seems to consist of firm, grisly flesh; one got the impression of a forged iron nail which goes through the hand from outside to the inside, the end of which appears to have been bent round by a hammer-blow. Between the crust in the middle of the wound and the normal skin lies a brighter edge, grooved and delicate; and through this edge or membrane the wounds bleed. The wounds cause very little pain, only when Teresa Neumann extends her fingers, the stretching of the skin does hurt a little.

“Dr. Babor noticed the sudden outflow from the right shoulder of fresh, cherry-red blood in 1932 during the vision of the clothes being torn from Christ before the crucifixion, and in 1934 at the fifth Station (where Simon of Cyrene had to help Our Lord carry the cross) when the cross was thrust on to Our Lord’s shoulder by Simon and he adds:

“ ‘As a proof of the miraculous nature of these phenomena, nothing can be more convincing to a doctor than the remarkable way in which the times that Teresa Neumann’s stigmata bleed correspond with the times of Our Divine Lord’s sufferings. Thus, her hands bleed when our Lord’s hands are bound in the Garden of Gethsemani, the stigmata of the scourges bleed at 6 A.M. (8 A.M. Jerusalem time) when Our Lord was scourged; the bleeding of the wounds on her head begins soon after as she sees the Crown of Thorns placed on Our Lord’s head; the shoulder wound bleeds during the vision of the carrying of the cross and again when Our Lord is stripped of His garments; and the wounds of her hands and feet bleed profusely during the vision of the crucifixion.’

“Teresa Neumann often submitted to medical examination of the heart wound-at the desire of, or with the approval of the Church-this was measured, touched; irradiated, X-rayed, described; was still oftener observed when active and bleeding; then, too, when Teresa Neumann was in her Passion ectasy, knowing nothing of what was going on around her or what was done to her, when the wound bled without her knowing, when her natural consciousness, her ordinary attention to physical happenings, when any influence by her on the process of bleeding, were completely eliminated.

“This nail-shaped formation of the wounds (occurring in past centuries in the case of some stigmatists), was something that Teresa Neumann soon noticed; when the progressive consolidation of the formation, it gave her the feeling ‘as if something were pricking in the stigmata.’

“Outside the period of the Passion ecstasy these formations feel hard, almost horny; and yet are most sensitive; just at the beginning of the Passion ecstasy from Thursday evening on, they become soft and super-sensitive like fresh wounds.”

While the stigmata of the hands and feet of St. Francis of Assisi and of Teresa Neumann are almost identically alike and are in the form of fleshy nails that pierce the hands and the feet, those of Saint Francesca delle Cinque Piage of the 18th century and of Fr. Pio of our own time are also alike and are of the opposite kind to those of St. Francis and Teresa Neumann, being empty wounds through the hands and feet, like the wounds on Our Divine Lord’s body when He was taken down from the cross. Of the wounds of Maria Francesca, Don Paschal Nitti, one of her confessors, gave the following testimony on oath at the process of beatification:

“I have seen them, I have touched them, and to say the truth I, as the Apostle Thomas did, have put my finger into the wounds of her hands and I have seen that the hole extended right through, for, in inserting my first finger into the wound, it met the thumb which I held underneath on the other side of the hand.”

With regard to the stigmata of Father Pio, we read in A City on a Mountain by Pascal P. Parente:

“The Provincial Superior examined the wounds immediately after their appearance and said that, looking through the wounds in the palms of Padre Pio’s hands, one would have been able to see in all its details a piece of writing or another object placed on the opposite side of his hands. . . . The wounds in the feet show the same characteristics. . . . The wound in his side is about two and three-quarter inches long and has the shape of an inverted cross, such as a cut by a lance would have caused. These wounds have persisted unchanged now for thirty-five years.”

After a year and three months of frequent tests and examinations during his five visits to Padre Pio, Dr. Romanelli wrote the following report:

“The wounds which Padre Pio has on his hands are covered with a thin membrane of reddish colour; this is not tinged with blood. I am convinced and am quite certain that these wounds are not superficial. By pressing them with my fingers, I have felt a void that goes through the whole thickness of the hand.

“I have been able to ascertain that if I pressed them more strongly my fingers would meet. An experiment of this kind, and in fact, pressure of any kind, causes the Father intense pain.

“However, I have submitted him to this painful experience several times morning and night, and I am bound to admit that each time I arrived at the same conclusion.”

“The lesions on the feet present the same characteristics as those of the hands but on account of the thickness of the feet I have not been able to make the same experiment as with the hands (i.e. to make my fingers meet in the middle of the wound).

“The wound of the side is a clear cut parallel to the ribs, seven to eight centimeters long, but of a depth difficult to ascertain. It bleeds abundantly. This blood has all the characteristics of arterial blood, and the edges of the wound show that it is not superficial.

“The tissues that surround the lesion show no inflammatory tendency but are painful to the least touch. I have visited Padre Pio five times in fifteen months, and though I have observed some modifications I have not been able to find a clinical formula to classify these wounds.”

Leaving aside the cases of St. Francis of Assisi and of Saint Maria Francesca, which are undoubtedly miraculous, Fr. Thurston declares with regard to less remarkable cases:

“Whatever such investigators as Bourru, Burot, Charcot, Bourneville have succeeded in producing by suggestion in their hysterical patients, falls very far short of what is recorded of St. Gemma Galgani, Domenica Lazzari and a dozen more whose manifestation cannot here be described.”

St. Gemma Galgani cannot be reckoned among the stigmatists in the strict sense, for, although her wounds were very real when they appeared once a week, they were not permanent; however, Fr. Thurston includes her on his list of true stigmatists. The case of Louise Lateau, the Belgian stigmatist, (1850–1883) is different. She received the stigmata in 1868 and they continued until her death. Like Teresa Neumann, she lived on the Blessed Sacrament alone from the time she received the stigmata. Doubts about her case were cleared up before her death. The Royal Medical Academy of Brussels sent two doctors, Dr. Warlmont, a Catholic, and Dr. Crocqu, a Freemason, to carry out an investigation. The following statement was signed by these two doctors after the investigation: “The stigmata of Louise Lateau are a fact and free from deception. Medical science can give no satisfactory explanation of these phenomena.”

This statement of the two Belgian doctors might be applied to all the stigmatists who had the permanent marks of the wounds of Our Lord, shared in His sufferings and lived a holy life in communion with the Catholic Church.

The unsuccessful attempts to produce even the physical marks of the wound of Christ by natural means, such as hypnotism, help to confirm the verdict of the Belgian doctors.

ATTEMPTS AT NATURAL EXPLANATIONS OF THE STIGMATA

The stigmata being a kind of permanent miracle reminding men of the cruel sufferings of Christ by which their sins ,were expiated, it is not surprising that they should be an object of particular hatred for the devil and of contradiction for his followers in the world who reject Christ. Atheists regard the stigmata as an aggressive form of miracle challenging their rejection of the supernatural and of the redemption of Christ. They give somewhat the same kind of explanation as they gave of the miracles of Lourdes when they first appeared; hysteria coupled with auto-suggestion or hypnotism. The atheistic Dr. Charcot of the last century, who had a great reputation as a doctor, spent a good deal of time in making experiments in his clinic at Salpetriere in Paris on patients he regarded as hysterical in an endeavor to produce by hypnotism marks on the body resembling the stigmata. Claims were made for partial success during his life-time, but Dr. Dejerine, who succeeded him, declared that, in the vast number of cases of psychopathics and neuropathics observed by him at the Salpetriere clinic, there was never a single case of bleeding wounds like the stigmata. This is the almost unanimous opinion of doctors of the present day. The explanation of various forms of nervous diseases by means of hysteria belongs to the dark ages of medicine.

While the term “hysteria” was in common use, hardly any two doctors defined it alike. For most doctors and for the public in general, the symptoms of hysteria are abnormal emotionalism, insistent egotism and pathological lying. Dr. Hynek, the famous Prague doctor, who is the author of many books, rightly thinks that the word “hysteria” should be outlawed in civilised society as a most offensive term calculated to destroy a person’s moral reputation. In his book on Teresa Neumann, we read the following:

“What really is this disease which renders such immense services to sceptics? In books on medicine it is called the crux medicorum, so many are the difficulties encountered in its treatment. In practice, in dealing with confused enigmatical cases where there is nothing upon which a diagnosis may be based, but where the doctor must say something, hysteria is the veritable Deus ex machina which saves his reputation. . . .

“Take the treatise on psychiatry of one of the most remarkable professors of our day, Dr. Bleuler. What is our astonishment to find that he has completely demolished the accustomed idea of hysteria. He has not even spared the physical marks of the disease. For him, they no longer exist. In the same way, the very word ‘hysteria’ is no longer to be found in the records of his clinic at Zurich. The definition of the disease suffers the same fate. According to Bleuler, all that before was negligently classified as ‘hysteria,’ on account of our newer knowledge of psycho-analysis, is nothing else than ‘an abnormal form of reaction on exterior life.’ “

Fr. Thurston, S.J., agrees with the above in theory, though he finds it hard to get rid of his old habit of using the word “hysteria” in its antiquated sense. In The Physical Phenomena of Mysticism (p. 101), he writes:

“What is realised by comparatively few persons outside the medical profession is the fact that a new and, it seems, a much more exact conception of neurosis still commonly called hysteria has come to prevail within the last thirty years, and that these views have been immensely developed and corroborated by the experiences of the Four Years’ War. The associations of the word hysteria as it is commonly understood by the public at large, are so misleading and so disparaging to the patient that many neurologists have urged that a new name should be found for it.”

Dr. Ewald, the atheistic doctor who carried out the investigation of Teresa Neumann’s case along with Dr. Seidl, as already stated, tried to wriggle out of the position in which he found himself and put forward hysteria as an explanation of the phenomena which he admitted to be genuine. However he added: “Many people worthy of the highest esteem have at one time or other shown all the signs of hysteria”!

Dr. de Poray Madeyski, the Polish doctor whose book on Teresa Neumann has been very much quoted by adversaries, after devoting the second half of his book to expounding his own particular view of hysteria, which is a modification of that of Dr. Charcot, concludes:

“The existence of hysteria in the case of Teresa Neumann does not in any way detract from her moral character, from her personal dignity, from her sincerity, from her piety or even from the possibility of her being a real saint; it takes nothing from the merits of her pious intentions nor from those of her virtuous life.”

Both these much-quoted doctors, Dr. Ewald and Dr. Madeyski, explicitly admit that Teresa Neumann has none of the symptoms ordinarily associated with hysteria and yet they insist on using the insulting term and, what is worse, Catholic writers quote them without giving the clauses that these men insert to save their own reputations as regards scientific accuracy.

Where Dr. Charcot and other famous doctors failed to produce by natural means anything remotely resembling the physical marks of the stigmata, a Lutheran doctor named Dr. Lechler claims to have succeeded. It should be noticed, however, that he did not know how much to claim, and what he actually claims to have produced, would not, even if it were a fact, be considered for a moment by the Catholic Church as a case of stigmatisation. No witnesses were allowed to be present while Dr. Lechler carried out his experiments, except Lutheran deaconesses; even the name of the subject of the experiment has not been released; it is alleged that it was a girl and she is referred to as Elizabeth K—. All traces of marks alleged to have been produced had disappeared before anyone, except the deaconesses, was allowed to see this mysterious Elizabeth K—. No further experiment was made on her.

It would be unnecessary to say anything more about the case except for the fact that both Fr. Thurston, S.J., and Fr. Siwek, S.J., take it seriously and refer to it as a case of stigmatisation in a non-Catholic. Fr. Crehen, S.J., in his preface to Physical Phenomena of Mysticism by Fr. Thurston, makes the following rather extraordinary statement about this case:

“In 1933 his views (Fr. Thurston’s) were very much clarified when a Lutheran doctor in Germany succeeded in producing stigmata by suggestion in an hysterical patient. The circumstances of the occasion were vouched for by reputable physicians . . .

As already stated, there were no witnesses present except Lutheran deaconesses. A few doctors may have accepted Dr. Lechler’s account but that does not get rid of the fact that no doctor was allowed to be present at the experiment.

The following is the account of the case which was published by Dr. Frohlich in 1950, in his book entitled Konnersreuth To-day, and his reply to Dr. Lechler:

“In the year 1933 there appeared a book, Das Ratsel von Konnersreuth im Lichte eines neuen Falles von Stigmatisation, by Med. Dr. Alfred Lechler, then head of the Elbingerode Institute for Nervous Complaints in the Southern Harz. In this brochure, with 7 photographs, Dr. Lechler asserted that, in the case of the Protestant patient, Elizabeth K—, suffering severely from nerve trouble, he had produced ‘stigmata’ on hands and feet by suggestion and auto-suggestion. We have, however, to consider these ‘stigmata’ in comparison with previously known wound-marks of stigmatists and in particular with those of Teresa Neumann.

“Extremely important is the note added by Dr. Lechler that the supervision of Elizabeth K—was not stringent enough so that he was not able to rule out the possibility of fraudulent manipulation of his medium.

“If we compare Teresa Neumann’s wound-marks with the characteristics of genuine stigmata as recorded in the history of Catholic stigmatists, it is seen at once that, in her case, we are dealing with wounds in the sense of those of the classical Catholic stigmatists, while in the case of Elizabeth K—, entirely different phenomena are concerned.” Fr. Poulain, S.J., the well-known authority on mystical theology arrives at the same conclusions as Dr. Frohlich, as the following quotations from The Graces of Interior Prayer show:

“And further, it has been shown (see Imbert, Vol. II, ch. vi, xiv; Surbled, La Morale, Vol. VI, Part II, final chapter; Gombault, L’Imagination, Part IV, ch. ii, pp. 504, 514) that the saints’ stigmata presented very great differences from those of the hypnotised persons of whom we have just been speaking.

1. With the first, there are true wounds; the flow of blood is often very abundant. There is nothing similar with the others. There has merely been a swelling or a more or less coloured exudation. It is a course imitation only.

2. The first often persists for several years, or reproduce themselves periodically every week. The others are transient. 3. It is not possible to cure the first by means of remedies.

4. The first are often very painful. This fact has not been noted with the others.

5. The first have always been accompanied by ecstasies.

6. Contrary to what is observed in all natural wounds of a certain duration, those of the saints exhibit no fetid odour (sometimes they even emit a perfume), no suppuration, no morbid deterioration of the tissues. And the remarkable thing is that any non-stigmatic wounds from which they may suffer follow the normal course.

“To sum up, if we say that the imagination is capable of producing the stigmatic wounds, we are forced to state it as a fact without any experimental proof.

“If anyone wishes to prove in a really scientific manner that the imagination, auto-suggestion, that is to say, can produce the stigmata, there is only one way of doing it: instead of proposing mere hypothesis, he must bring similar facts, only of the natural order, that is to say, wounds produced by suggestion, apart from any religious idea. But none have been met with, notwithstanding the extreme good will of doctors and hypnotisers. There is not one example of a real wound produced in a hospital by the excitation of the imagination and the sensibility. Rubefaction, or at the most, reddish sweat have indeed been obtained, although very rarely; but there has never been any flow of blood, and especially no punctures, no tearing of the tissues. And this not even on the soft part of the skin, any more than those occupied by the stigmata of Crucifixion, that is to say, on the inner and very tough surfaces of the hands and feet.”

“The essential characters of the stigmata are these: they are wounds, they are localized in the same places as in our Lord’s body, they bleed on fixed days, and they cause terrible suffering. The haemorrhage is merely a secondary and intermittent phenomenon. Finally, the wounds make their appearance in places where the skin is thickest and most resistant, on the palms of the hands and the soles of the feet; which never occurs, says Dr. Lefebvre, with morbid haemorrhages.” (The Graces of Interior Prayer, Ch. XXXI. Nos. 10 and 11., by Fr. Poulain, S.J.).

Another alleged case of a non-Catholic stigmatist is that of the Hamburg merchant named Mook. Surface wounds appeared on his forehead at intervals of between a month and six weeks and were accompanied by heart attacks. The man practised no religion and the marks were not in any way associated with the wounds of Christ.

As neither the case of the elusive Elizabeth K—as given by Dr. Lechler, nor that of the Hamburg merchant bears any resemblance to the case of any genuine stigmatist, it is most unfair that Catholic writers should deceive the Catholic public by referring to them as stigmatists.

HOW EXPLAIN THE FACT THAT MOST OF THE STIGMATISTS WERE WOMEN?

Lt is unquestionably a fact that the number of women who have received the stigmata is many times greater than the number of men. It is understandable that atheistic writers should seize on the fact to discredit this form of miracle, that is confined to the Catholic Church, by representing the stigmata as the effect of emotionalism or hysteria; but one would expect Catholic writers to abstain from acting as propagandists for an atheistic theory now rejected by most doctors. Reasons can be found for the disparity in the numbers without resorting to such theories. The vocation of all true stigmatists is to bear a portion of the physical sufferings of Our Lord and in a mysterious manner to keep Our Blessed Lady company at the foot of the cross. At the actual crucifixion of Our Blessed Lord on Calvary, there were three women present, including Our Blessed Lady and only one man, St. John, the Beloved Disciple. Those writers with the hysteria complex should give reasons for the disproportion in the representation of the sexes on Calvary, before resorting to explanations of the stigmata which are, at the same time, derogatory to the female sex and disrespectful to the Sacred Wounds of Christ which the true stigmata represent. Why should any other explanation be sought than that such is the will of Our Divine Saviour: He has reserved the dignity of the priesthood for men, and given them more frequent opportunities for martyrdom than women; and for the honour of keeping Our Blessed Lady company at the foot of the cross, while not excluding other St. Johns, He has chosen members of the female sex. Women outnumber men in many callings where courage and constancy of a high order are necessary. For instance, women outnumber men in the mission-fields; the number of women in the various religious orders and congregations is far greater than the number of men. Such is the arrangement of Divine Providence.

Besides, resorting to such theories as hysteria to explain the disproportion shows a complete ignorance of what the true stigmata connote. The stigmata are not ornaments, neither are they signs of disease; they are the external signs of participation in the greatest suffering that mortal can be asked to bear, and not for a day or two, but for life. The vocation of the stigmatist demands qualities which are the very opposite of those associated with hysteria in any form; it demands strength of will, heroic courage, deep humility and constancy, not confined to a limited period, but lasting for a lifetime.

Fr. Pio has borne those painful wounds now for forty years; the sufferings of Teresa Neumann began the year that Fr. Pio received the stigmata, so she, too, has spent forty years of her life in suffering, during thirty-two of which she has borne the stigmata, and she has accompanied Our Blessed Lord in His Passion, from the Agony in the Garden to the Death on the Cross, more than a thousand times. Where, then, in the whole world could one find two other such examples of courage and constancy?

In our own times, when the miraculous character of the stigmata of St. Francis of Assisi was being called into question even by Catholic writers, Divine Providence so arranged that a replica of them should be found, not in Padre Pio of Foggia, but in Teresa Neumann, and a replica of the stigmata of St. Mary Frances of the Five Wounds should be found, not in Teresa Neumann, but in Padre Pio. It is an emphatic refutation of the atheistic explanation of the stigmata and a touching illustration of the meaning of St. Paul’s words:

“There is neither Jew nor Greek; there is neither bond nor free; there is neither male nor female. For you are all one in Christ Jesus.” (Galatians, III, 28).

The objection against the miraculous character of the stigmata that, as most of the stigmatists have been women, there is probably some natural explanation such as hysteria has been urged against other extraordinary favours. It has been urged against the devotion to the Sacred Heart of Jesus because the person to whom the revelations concerning it, St. Margaret Mary Alocoque, was a woman, as were St. Gertrude and St. Mechtilde who received revelations about the Sacred Heart before her time. It has been urged also against the Work of Infinite Love because the person to whom the revelations concerning it, Mother Louise Margaret, was a woman.

Fr. Galliffet, S.J., the disciple of Blessed Claude de la Colombiere, who wrote in 1726, gives the following answer to the objection:

“Those who are opposed to extraordinary graces frequently object that in these matters the testimony of women alone is brought forward, rarely that of men, insinuating thereby that it ought to be mistrusted. It is easy to answer this objection. First, women who are really holy are as much under the influence of the Spirit of God as men; and for this reason alone their testimony is of equal value. Secondly, it is true, as St. Teresa remarks, that the Holy Spirit generally selects the weaker sex for these supernatural graces. His wisdom understands wherefore, but it is on this account that the testimony of women is much more frequent. Thirdly, we must take notice that women who have been highly favoured by God, being absolutely under the control of their superiors and directors, were for the most part obliged under obedience to commit to writing all that passed in their inner life, in order that it might be subjected to close examination, God always admirable in His dealings, having thus ordained, in order that the marvels of His love and grace towards souls might be known, and the memory of them preserved in the Church.”

Three questions remain to be discussed, two of which are closely connected; the first, are there stigmata of diabolical origin or is it within the power of the devil to produce deep wounds corresponding to the Wounds of Christ, that remain fresh for years: the second, can the stigmata be produced by mystical contemplation alone: the third, what is the connection, if any, between the stigmata and holiness?

DIABOLICAL STIGMATA

With regard to the first question, it can be confidently stated that there has been no case within the last hundred years in which the external, physical marks of the stigmata as described in the beginning of this chapter have been produced by natural means such as hypnotism, by diabolical agency, or by a combination of both. It may be presumed that the devil gave such help as he was able to men like Charcot and Lechler whose object was to lessen the esteem of people for the real stigmata. The combined efforts produced nothing more than blisters on the skin that vanished in a day. Herr Mook, referred to above, may well have been one of those on whom the devil tried his experiments.

Has the devil been any more successful in past ages: Cardinal Bona has been quoted as holding the opinion that the devil not only can produce the marks of the stigmata but that he has actually done so. He writes: “. . . . The marks of the wounds (of Christ) can be imitated and impressed by the fiend, as so many examples too painfully have proven.”

It is to be noted that all the Cardinal says is that the marks of the wounds “can be imitated and impressed” by the devil; he does not say that the devil can produce deep wounds that remain fresh for years. He adds that there have been many examples of diabolical stigmata, but in none of the examples commonly quoted do we find reference to deep wounds that have remained fresh for years.

The case of diabolical stigmata most commonly referred to, especially by writers who endeavor to disparage the true stigmata, is that of Magdalena de la Cruz, and when referred to, the facts of the case are generally distorted. The following are the facts of the case: Magdalena de la Cruz was born in Spain near Cordoba in 1487. At the age of twelve she was solicited by the devil who appeared to her in human form, and she remained under his power for more than forty years. She entered the Franciscan Convent of Sancta Isabel de los Angeles in 1504, of which convent she afterwards became Abbess. She gained a great reputation for holiness and for thirty-nine years exhibited a series of pseudo-mystical phenomena among which were the stigmata which bled. These she frequently exhibited to people who visited her. In 1543 she fell dangerously ill and confessed that her holiness was only a pretence and that the extraordinary phenomena in her life were the work of the devil. When she repented, all these phenomena, including the stigmata, ceased and never reappeared. She passed the last seventeen years of her life in the convent of Sancta Clara, deeply penitent, and died in 1560. With regard to her stigmata, it is not stated that they were deep wounds or that they were permanent. As she was fond of displaying them, it may be presumed that they were produced by the devil for each occasion, and that they disappeared during the intervals., At all events they disappeared in 1643 when she repented and never reappeared. Hers is the most extreme case and most commonly quoted of the devil’s attempts to deceive people by counterfeiting the stigmata, and it is to be noted that Divine Providence did not allow the deception to be permanent. Much the same may be said about all other cases of stigmata “imitated and impressed” by the devil.

CAN THE STIGMATA BE THE RESULT OF MYSTICAL CONTEMPLATION?

The theory that the stigmata can be the result of mystical contemplation is of recent origin; the late Dom Alois Mager, O.S.B., of Salzburg is its chief exponent. As Dom Mager holds that the stigmata can be produced naturally by hypnosis or suggestion on hysterical subjects, it must be presumed that he is using the word “stigmata” in its medical sense of surface wounds or blisters. At the time that he and Fr. Thurston were writing there was confusion not only about the meaning of the word “stigmata” but about the physical characteristics of the stigmata of the historic stigmatists, even of those of St. Francis of Assisi. That confusion has been dispelled in a providential way by the appearance of the stigmata on the members of Padre Pio and Teresa Neumann. Dom Mager had an opportunity of testing his theory by an investigation of the cases of either Padre Pio and Teresa Neumann. He paid two visits of an hour each to Konnersreuth and would go no more; he never visited Padre Pio. He cannot, therefore, be regarded as an authority on the subject. There are several objections against this theory, the two most serious of which are: first, that if mystical contemplation or a very high degree of sanctity could produce the stigmata, all the canonized saints should have had them, and second, that it does not leave room for the use of free will in the stigmatists.

While most of the stigmatists led edifying lives and persevered to the end, a few fell away. Among those who fell away there were some like Marie-Julie Jahenny whose stigmata differed from anything ever produced by hypnotism or suggestion and appear to have been genuine. If we accept the traditional opinion of the Church that the stigmata are gifts of God, which like other special gifts of God, demand the free co-operation of the recipient and give no guarantee of perseverance to the end, there is no difficulty in explaining the case of Marie-Julie Jahenny.

The third question, namely, whether there is any connection between charisms such as the stigmata (assuming that the stigmata are charisms) has been discussed in a learned article in the July 1953 issue of The Irish Theological Quarterly by Fr. E. McMullin. As his conclusions are the same as those to be drawn from what has been said in the present chapter we give them here:

“There are two possible methods of approach. The one we prefer is to suppose that preternatural phenomena in the lives of the saints are charisms of a sort: they are given for the edification of others, and not at all to aid the person’s own spiritual life. But they are not completely unrelated to sanctity, because we observe that they are far more frequent latterly in the lives of saints than in those of other people: ‘although the grace of miracles is, and may be, conferred on sinners, generally however it is conferred only on the just and holy.’ We might argue, for instance, that the best sort of apologetic sign is not merely a miracle, but a miracle done by a saint, since attention is drawn not merely to God, but also to the way in which one must reach Him. However, theoretical reasonings like this are of little value, since they did not apparently govern the distribution of charisms in the primitive Church, and in any case, God’s ways are not ours. What is important now, as it was in Patristic times, is the observed fact; the theology of charisms originated from the observation of certain facts rather than from theory, so that it is only reasonable that it should be modified as new facts may warrant. ‘We observe that charisms nowadays are usually associated with saints, and deduce a certain probability (no more) that a person who is blessed with these powers, is also a saint.’ The Fathers observed that charisms in their time were not usually associated with saints, and so made no such deduction, and, in fact, warmly attacked the Donatists for linking the two. An historical change in the distribution of charisms seems to be indicated, if these observations are accurate. There is no reason against such a change, and indeed, one would not have to search very far for some excellent reasons in its favour.”

Nihil Obstat:

Gualterus H. Peters, S. T. L., Ph. D. Censor Librorum

Imprimatur:

Gulielmus O. Brady, D. D., S. T. D. Archiepiscopus Sancti Pauli

Paulopoli, die 24a Aprilii, 1958.

The NIHIL OBSTAT and the IMPRIMATUR indicate only that this manuscript has been read before publication by one who is competent; that in the manuscript he has found nothing contrary to the faith of the Catholic Church nor to its moral teachings. In indicating that nothing such has been found, there is no implication that those who grant the NIHIL OBSTAT or the IMPRIMATUR agree with the contents, opinions or statements expressed in the manuscript.

********

The Story of Mary Anne

INDEX

WHEN MARY ANNE WOKE AND FOUND HERSELF IN THE HOSPITAL ROOM. FR. MARTIN WAS SITTING BY THE BED. HE LOOKED AT HER BUT SAID NOTHING

He didn’t have to tell her. She knew. She was going to die soon. At the age of thirty-five. The wife of a husband she loved. The mother of four small children.

She looked around the room. “Peter has gone home to the children,” said Fr. Martin.

She lay quiet for a long time, then:

“I see they have left my handbag, Father. There is a small blue diary in the bottom of it. Before you go I would like you to read it, and then keep it, please.”

Presently she slept.

The priest found the book, opened it at the beginning and began to read.

“This story begins on the day I spoke to Father Martin about Mary being the Mediatrix of All Grace. . . . .”

MARY Anne liked new things; this was one reason, even if a minor one, why she enjoyed her visit to the church after school. The sun usually shone through the stained glass panels on the west side then, and made coloured patterns all over the sanctuary. Sometimes she stayed quite a while, and if she were distracted from talking with Our Lord she would find herself weaving dreams to fit the patterns. The church had been not quite completed when she arrived in the parish a year before, and she liked to think that there was a bond between them. She had loved the new church at once, especially the stained-glass window of Our Lady which took up most of the back wall, and looked so lovely from the street when the lights were on inside at night. The altar was a simple table of marble, and just right as a place of sacrifice. The walls were made up almost completely of unbroken oblongs of stained glass, each with its own inspiration. The moods of the church changed with the variations of weather and light from out-side.

This afternoon her visit was rather short. She hoped that she would be able to see Father Martin. After studying his habits for some time now-this appeared necessary, as priests seem very hard to find just when you need them-she knew that on a fine day like this he would probably be saying his Office at this time, in the semi-enclosed courtyard on the western side, between the church and the presbytery.

Father Martin was a dear, really. He had done Mission work for some years with the Order which was responsible for the parish church, and had returned here after an accident of some kind and a serious illness. She was very curious about the accident, but had never enquired because it had left him with a pronounced limp, and she thought that he might be embarrassed about it. In any case, he usually said his Office limping up and down the yard. He wasn’t the most popular priest in the parish because he didn’t take much part in the more vigorous activities of the young people, but Mary Anne had often seen himfinish his prayers in front of Our Lady’s altar, and any friend of Mary’s was a friend of hers, so on occasions she had followed him out of the church to ask about some of the problems that confront adolescents. He was very kind under a rather gruff exterior, quick to the point, and his sympathy with human nature enabled him to understand the undercurrents of thought and emotion which were not very easy to put into words.

Mary Anne paused a moment in front of Our Lady’s statue, said a quick “Let Him be there, Mary,” and slipped out the side door into the courtyard. There he was, going along his usual track, and moving quite fast considering the extent of his disability. This was not altogether a good sign. Father Martin usually moved faster than usual when he had something on his mind, or when his leg ached, which she knew it did periodically.

She took up her usual position at the far end of his beat and waited for him to notice. He gave her a quick glance over his book as he turned at the end and continued his walking. This was his usual practice. He had once said something about finishing a psalm before he could stop, and the length of time this took varied considerably. Today it was a sudden halt at the end of the next round.

“Well ?”

“I was wondering if you had a few minutes, please, Father.”

Father Martin learnt from experience, too, and he knew that this meant a discussion. He didn’t have the time really.

There was a lecture to be given tonight to some gathering or other on the peculiarities of native languages in the islands where he had worked as a missioner. He was a scholar in various fields, and was called on sometimes to lecture to different groups on the more unusual aspects of a number of subjects. He was not yet thoroughly familiar with tonight’s lecture, and had hoped to spend most of the next two hours revising his notes. On the other hand, Mary Anne was one of his favourites; in fact, she was his idea of what a Catholic young miss should be-intelligent, virtuous in a pleasant way, mischievous, modern, with an already deep and still growing love of Christ and a particular devotion to Our Lady.

Now Father Martin surveyed her. His keen eye took in the signs of a day at school. The hat was sagging around the brim, shoes dusty, hair unruly, mischief mostly evaporated for the time being. He studied the keen grey eyes, and saw that she was very much in earnest. It was characteristic of him that he decided without hesitation that even a little help in the formation of Mary Anne’s ideals would mean more in the long run than technicalities discussed with scholars. So he closed his book and looked around.

Mary Anne knew that this was a good sign. Whenever Father Martin was going to give his full attention to anything he sat down on the nearest object. Now he turned abruptly and made his way to the fountain in the centre of the courtyard, where he sat down on one of the low pillars situated at intervals in the wall around the base.

Mary Anne perched on a similar one a few feet away. “Father,” she asked, “what is a mediatrix ?”

“A “mediatrix” is a female mediator. A mediator is a person who stands in the middle and unites individuals or groups of people who are opposed.”

“What do we mean when we say that Our Lady is the Mediatrix of all Graces?”

“Do you need this information in any particular connection?”

“Yes, Father, we are to do a paper for religious instruction class on Our Lady, choosing any aspect we like. I want to write on that subject.”

“How old are you ?”

This was another peculiarity of Father Martin’s; when the discussion did not seem to be achieving its purpose he would suddenly change the trend of the conversation altogether, and take a line of approach which he thought would clarify the matter more in the long run.

“Fifteen, Father.”

“Well, in that case it was something over fifteen years ago that God decided to make yet another human being. He looked out over the vast sea of possible people whom He could make. There were brilliant men who would know Him well and love Him with all their strength; there were beautiful women who would rise to the heights of culture and virtue and be a credit to the human race; there were possible saints and scholars, scientists, statesmen, philosophers, kings and queens. All of these looked up to God from their nothingness and their souls longed for creation.

“While God considered all of these the Mother of God came to His side and spoke to Him : “Make this one” (point- ing to the soul of a little girl). “Give her the blessing of creation. Bring her into this world sound in body, without any defects of limb or sight or hearing or speech. Give her a robust constitution so that she will always be healthy. Give her a generous measure of intelligence, a pleasant temperament, a sparkling personality, so that she will be able to glorify You by using all these gifts well.

“Bring her into a good Catholic home, with parents to love her and bring her up in security and with affection.

Look after her in her birth so that she will not die, but live to receive the sacrament of Baptism and so share in the life of God by grace.

“As a special privilege, which will one day be a help to her in the salvation of her soul, let her be called by my name.”

“All these things did happen just because the Mother of God went to her Son and asked that it be so.

“So fifteen years ago there was born into this world a baby girl. She was called Mary Anne. She grew up in a pious home, with good parents to care for her. And the Mother of God cared for her, too. Many blessings came into her life because Mary obtained them for her. In all the illnesses that attack small children, and sometimes prove fatal, she was preserved from any serious consequences: On many occasions she was close to danger and escaped unscathed or did not even know about it. She was loved and cared for; was taught her prayers very early in life.

“When the time came for her to go to school she was confided to the care of Sisters who taught her the beginnings of the love of God and His Mother. Eventually she was prepared for her Confession and First Holy Communion. She confessed her sins and received her God at the altar rails. Her success in studies was more than reasonable.

“All these things, too, were gifts and graces from God, which were given because Mary went to Him and asked for them on behalf of this favoured child.

“There are other graces also which have come to this soul in the course of the years. Some of them I know about; many of them you know about; most of them are known only to God and His Mother who bestowed them.”

Father Martin paused in his story. Mary Anne was unusually silent. Did Father know just how accurate he was? Did he realize that it was precisely because she had become aware of a long chain of graces in her life obtained through the intercession of Mary that she was enquiring about her powers of intercession? She remembered how very sophisticated she had become about twelve months ago, for example. There had been a very smart set of girls at the school she was attending, and it had seemed important at the time to be in with them. This had led to a series of escapades which were doubtful, to say the least. The net had drawn tighter each week, until she realized that she must get out of the whole business.

She went to Mary and prayed desperately: “Please help me, Mary, I can’t go to my parents; they would be so disappointed in me. Unless I can break away from these companions now I fear that I will commit serious sin, and I don’t want to do that. Help me to love your Jesus and do something for me.”

She knew that it certainly was far from coincidence that her father was transferred only a week later. During the last year she had become more and more aware of how much she owed to Mary, as she fondly came to call Our Lady. Now she heard Father Martin put into words what she was coming to know by experience-that all her favours came through Mary. Her mind flashed back over the years, and she saw the Mother of God bending over her all the time, going to her Son day after day and asking for graces for the thoughtless child who bore her own name.

It would be as well to get the whole matter straightened out once and for all. So she brought her attention back to Father Martin and asked: “And please, Father, just exactly how many of the graces we receive does Mary get for us?”

“I think St. Bernard expressed it very well a long time ago. Incidentally, Pope Pius XII agrees with me because he quoted the words in one of his Encyclicals a few years ago. Using the words of this saint who wrote so well about Our Lady on so manyoccasions, he said: “It is the will of God that we should have nothing which has not passed through the hands of Mary!”*

“And that means utterly everything?”

“Utterly. It includes all graces without restriction, and chat means anything which in any way helps us to glorify God and gain eternal life. Our Lady gets for us the first infusion of sanctifying grace; she is responsible for every actual grace. It is through her that we receive all our religious instruction. Every inspiration we have, every enlightenment, every help to overcome temptation, even the “accidents” of our spiritual life, such as being prevented from going to some place where we would have sinned. All these things come to us because the Mother of God goes to Him and asks for them on our behalf. It is through Mary that the conversion of sinners comes about; she is responsible for the conversion of all those who come to the Church from heresy or unbelief. The Mass and the Sacraments have all the power of bestowing grace given them by God, but it is Mary who gets this grace for us. When we ask the saints to obtain things for us they do intercede for us, of course, but they go to God through His Mother. All the blessings they received during their lifetime were given through her and they give their favours through her now.

“This tender solicitude of our Mother in heaven extends to even the details of our life. She asks for and obtains for us the helps to salvation given by hearing a sermon, making a retreat, receiving good advice, seeing good example.

“In fact, we mean just what we say when we call Our Blessed Lady the Mediatrix of ALL graces. In particular, there is one grace which we especially depend on her to obtain for us, and that is the grace of a happy death. We can never earn that ourselves; that is why the Church tells us to ask her for that every time we say the Hail Mary. . . . pray for us sinners now and in the hour of our death.”

“Does Mary think about each one of us all the time? In fact she would have to keep in mind everybody in the whole world and get favours for them all day long. Does she do that?”

*P. Pius XII Ency. Doctor Mellifluous, 1953, A.A.S. Vol. 45, 1953, p. 382

“Yes. Our Lady’s intercession concerns every soul that has lived or died since her Assumption into heaven. It will include all those yet to come on earth. During her life-time she joined with her Son to merit for them all; at present God makes it possible for her to know about them all and their every grace comes through her mediation. This includes all graces given to the souls in purgatory. This does not mean that all souls will be saved as a result, even though she does ask for, and actually gives to every soul enough grace for salvation. Some will put obstacles in the way of the working of this grace and as a result will not be saved.

“All the graces and helps she does give she gets by asking for them. She asks God for each one and then grants it to the soul concerned. Sometimes this will be as a result of prayer, but often it will all be done without any prayer at all, because she knows our needs and sees that we either will not know to ask or will neglect to do so. Every grace you have ever received, whether you even knew it as a grace at the time or not, was merited, asked for and given to you by the Motherof God.”

“She really is terrific, isn’t she?”

“I think she would accept that compliment.”

“It is a big job Mary has, Father. Why did God give her all that to do?”

“Because He is God and therefore powerful and generous and good. He did not have to give Our Lady any of these privileges, but He did freely choose to do it; out of His sheer generosity He decided to give her the privilege of the Immaculate Conception; of His own goodness He made her the Mother of God. He was lavish in the share He gave her with His Son in the work of redemption, and just because He loves her so much He now gives her the privilege of being the dispenser of all the graces which are ever given. He has given these privileges and He has told us that He has done so. We can only rejoice that one of our human race has been so favoured and take full advantage of it.”

By this time Father Martin was getting quite wrapped up in his subject, and was glaring at Mary Anne as if to impress these truths on her once and for all.

“Since her Assumption into heaven she supervises the distribution of every grace. Every blessing, every gift, every help on our way to God-even though not asked for or acknowledged-comes through the ever-watchful, allsolicitous intercession of Mary. EVERY ONE! REMEMBER THAT. EVERY ONE!

“Especially, Mary Anne, we must always be asking her to get for us that most important grace of a happy death. “Don’t forget these things now, will you?”

“No, Father.”

It was twenty years before Father Martin came to know just how well Mary Anne did remember.

He sat there reading the diary while she slept. From time to time he paused and remembered things from his own life which fitted in; sometimes, too, he made reflections on what was in the little blue diary. Much of what was contained was everyday information, but he began to see a theme in the whole account by linking up events and impressions which occurred here and there.

“Today I spoke to Father Martin about you, Mary. He was inclined to get a little technical, but he made me realize something of the vastness of your power and generosity. He must have thought me ungrateful because I left him in a slight daze without saying “thank you.” It was like looking through a crack in the tower of a castle on a mountain. Inside the room was dark and, confined. Outside I could see a glimpse of a magnificent landscape, with mountains and valleys, heights and depths, light and shade, extending to the horizon and blending with the glorious heavens. It was like being locked in there for a long time and finding the crack for the first time. Father went to a lot of trouble to explain all about you, and it came to me suddenly, this beautiful vision of your splendour. I hugged it to my heart and went back into the church to impress it on my mind before it went away. I want to make this the theme of my life from now on-to be a daughter of Mary, to live as you would live in these modern times, to love Christ as you love Him.

“I think it might help if I write down something about it regularly, so I have begun this diary. I must write out that paper for Sister soon, before I forget all that Father told me. Also, there are quite a few graces I want you to get for me, and I will give you a list of all those, too.

“I never did get that paper written, even though I wrote out what I could remember of Father’s words. When I came to set it out I just couldn’t manage. The subject was so vast. It was like trying to see all around yourself at once. When I looked at one part I couldn’t see the rest, so I wrote about something else.

“It is very simple really; you were associated with Christ when He merited all graces and He distributes them all, every one-Father was very emphatic about that, wasn’t he? -through you. It’s so easy to understand but so hard to put down in such a way that it all unfolds point by point. Perhaps Father Martin could do it; I rather think he could.

“He is a dear, isn’t he, Mary ? And I just know he loves you so. Bless him, won’t you ? While I write this I remem- ber that what he said about other things is true of himself. Just knowing him and talking to him sometimes is a grace because it helps me love God and you, and so is something you get for me. Thank you for letting me know him.

“You know about the exams next week, of course. You have been very good to me about exams in the past so, please help me this time.

“I never did write out that list of intentions I had for you. It’s people mostly. There’s one I”ve told you about often, and that’s my father. He isn’t a Catholic, and that does make things hard for my mother. He never does anything but encourage us in our faith, but there are things he just can’t understand-like going to midnight Mass-and so my mother must get very lonely sometimes. I heard a priest say not long ago that the faith is often given to non-Catholics who have lived a good life according to their beliefs. He is good, Mary; you know that, so please get the faith for him. I must say that if he is interested at all he doesn’t give much indication, but you can do it.

“Today I found this quotation taken from the Encyclical (that is spelt correctly, isn’t it?) of Pius XI on the Rosary

““We know that all things are given to us by the great and good God through the hands of His Mother.”*

“The Church certainly believes in your power, Mary. P.S.: Please let Father Martin’s leg not ache too much, and thanks about those exams. That’s one more favour you have got for me.

“About my young brother, Mary. I just don’t know what special grace to ask you to get for him. He’s eighteen and left college last year. Seems very unsettled. He came home a long time after us last night and didn’t say where he’d been. He goes to Holy Communion several times a week, though. It seems as if he is almost deliberately being wild sometimes. I wonder if he is fighting a vocation. If I do something special for him will you get for him the grace he needs, whatever it is, please? Suppose I get up and go to Mass and Holy Communion every Saturday just for him? I do like that sleep-in on Saturday morning, but you have been good to me and you are the Mediatrix of ALL graces and I do love the big loaf.

“Mother of God, what can I say? Last night I committed mortal sin-for the first time as far as I know-and I almost did a dreadful thing this morning and received Holy Communion in that state.

“It’s not as if I didn’t know either; I”ve been told by those who love me.

“It seemed marvellous at first when Des began to take me out. He is handsome and has the latest sports car and plenty of money. He took me to all the places I”ve always wanted to go.

“But I should have known when I wasn’t able to talk to you about it. My mother wasn’t very pleased either.

“Father Martin was quite blunt. When I took the Children of Mary notices down one Saturday he was in the courtyard. I stopped to say hello, but he paused in his Office just long enough to say, “Girls of eighteen are too young to go steady-especially with nonCatholics.” Then he stalked off.

“My big brother John doesn’t often meddle in my affairs, but one night he stopped passing my room; I was doing my nails and the door was open. He leaned against one side of the opening. He is usually flippant with me, but this time he was quite serious.

““Look, kid,” he said, “what do you want to get around with this guy for? He’s just not your kind.

““You have all the equipment to do a good job as a woman-looks, personality, poise. You can give a man somethingto live for one day. Why waste it all on the wrong guy?”

“My look of scornful “how would you know and why don’t you mind your own business” didn’t seem to bother him, so I shrugged and said nothing.

“So in spite of all these graces I sinned. I made the elementary error of staying in a parked car. I”d done it before and thought I was immune. So I sinned and I”m ashamed.

“It was far from the worst a young couple can do, but there was passion and touching, and it’s not even as if I love him. I”m quite sure now, I don’t. And to think how often I”ve prayed to meet the right man eventually, and promised you I would keep my womanhood and my kisses only for the one man I married.

*Envy. Ingravescentibus Malls, A.A.S. Vol. 29, 1937, p. 380.

“I did wake up enough before I left him to say that I didn’t want to see him any more, and I know he’s gone for good now.

“Were the tears I wept into my pillow later on tears of sorrow for having offended God or just tears for my own shame? Even then I was thinking, “what will the other girls say when they find out I”ve lost him?”

“But this morning I could have died. It was only while I was dressing that I realized it was the feast of your Holy Family, and Father had asked us to go to Holy Communion in family groups. My mother had us all organized, my two brothers, myself and my two younger sisters. They all knew I”d been to Confession the day before.

“We sat together in the church and it was agony. As Holy Communion time came around I was cold all over, and still had by missal open atthe Introit. Only you knew how I prayed to you then, “Please, Mother of God, don’t let me do it; I feel I”11 just get up and go, but don’t let me.” When Susan pushed me and told me to go on, then I nearly failed-and the way she looked at me as she pushed past. Thank you for that grace. I do love Jesus, you know I do, and couldn’t stand to have done that. Afterwards I mumbled something about breaking my fast, and even that wasn’t very big of me. But I felt so ashamed I thought everyone would know.

“This afternoon I just couldn’t stand it any more, being in mortal sin, I mean, so I went down and saw Father Martin. I”d made an Act of Contrition, of course, with your help, and I knew that put me in the state of grace again, but I had to get back to the Sacraments. I felt I just couldn’t ask to go to Confession and go in and tell my sin, so I went to the presbytery and told Father Martin all about it first.

“He was marvellous. I think he’d just got up from an afternoon sleep. He usually has one on Sundays because he finds two early Masses something of a strain. He was still a little bleary-eyed when I arrived, but he seems to know when I need help most, and he listened as only he can. He said just enough to help me tell my woes, and he didn’t seem to mind when I cried and naturally you have eventually a complete picture of the man you want to share your life with. You know all about his character-he must be a man, real man-his temperament, even his appearance. Then one day someone comes along and fits the picture, and presto, you’re in love. From the top of your head to the soles of your feet, you’re in love.

“Well, today it happened. I just looked up and there he was. You can tell a real man right away. He just stood out from the rest. He was rather tall and not in a dither like so many of those money chasers. Someone introduced us and I just melted inside. I pride myself on my poise, but there I was like a giggling schoolgirl. I can’t remember much of what we said, but his eyes and hair are brown; there are a few little crinkles around his eyes because he smiles so nicely.

“I”m slipping, Mary; I can just feel myself going over-board about him. Please help me now. I know I must be careful. I don’t even know if he is a Catholic, but please let him be. Perhaps he didn’t even notice me really. I might never see him again. He didn’t ask to see me again. Oh, Mary, let him be all I think he is; let him be a Catholic and let him be interested in poor little me. I”m twenty-two now you know.

“O Mary, today I met him! His name is Peter. I didn’t want to go to that stuffy gathering but my boss wanted a report on the proceedings, something about modern marketing. I wasn’t really dressed for meetings either, but I was the only one who could take shorthand well enough. So I went along and there he was. I knew almost straight away. I did read somewhere once that you can fall in love at first sight-something about building up an ideal man in your heart as you grow up. You build up your ideals one by one; you know that your vocation is to be a wife and a mother.

“Peter came to the office today. His firm wanted to place an order with us. He could easily have rung, but he came himself and I think his eyes did light up when he saw me. I was dressedup, too; you can’t run risks at a time like this. He is coming back to check the list before despatch.

“I seem to have known him all my life; we fit in just so well. Really, it’s only six weeks. I”11 never forget our first night out. He does everything so well. Is it wrong, Mary, if stars light up all around you when you are kissed by the man you love? Just normally kissed, I mean. I hope it’s not, because otherwise it’s going to be a long, dry spell. Wasn’t it lovely the way he said to my mother as we left, “I”11 have her home in good time; she has to be up for Children of Mary Mass, doesn’t she?”

“I couldn’t help asking him when we got out the gate just how he knew I was a Catholic and all that.

““I saw the little blue miraculous medal on your watch chain the first time I saw you. I have a sister in the Children of Mary, and I drove her to the church tonight for Confession.” It was his way of telling he is a Catholic, too. He is very capable, is my Peter. And thanks about the medal, Mary. Perhaps I would never have seen him again except for that. He did like me that first time I know, but he is the type who loves Christ like a man should, and I think he would fall out of love if he had to.

“I was at a retreat over the weekend. You can imagine how delighted I was when the priest spoke on you as the Mediatrix of all grace. It is something we don’t hear enough about. I had a pencil and notebook with me, so I took down the gist of the talk in shorthand:

““Mary, in her own way, merited all the grace she distributes. A man and a woman were associated in the ruin of humanity by original sin, and it is God’s design that a man and a woman be concerned together in the restoration to grace. The Man is Christ, and the Woman is Mary, His Mother. The correspondence is fairly close. It was Adam who was fundamentally responsible for the fall of man; Eve could not have done it on her own. . In the same way it is Christ who is absolutely responsible for the redemption of the race; Mary could not have done that. In fact, Christ redeemed the human race by His Passion and Death and made salvation possible. Now glorious in heaven He continues to sanctify the souls of men by interceding with God and dispensing grace through His humanity. But Our Lady was associated with Him in the whole of His life and with the great work of redemption which He did. In fact, all souls must be associated with Him if they want to be saved. We must work out our own salvation by sanctifying ourselves, using the grace He won for us. Not only that, but we are able to get grace for others, too. This does not add anything to the merit and atonement of Christ; it serves only to apply to individuals what Christ has made available for all. This association continues in heaven, where the saints take a part in the distribution of grace.

““This store of grace is like a big reservoir of water, from which pipes run out in all directions, with taps everywhere. The water has all been put in there by Christ. Mary could not have done it in any way by herself; only be associated with her Son when He did it. Now that the water is there she can turn on the taps. The other saints turn on some of them, but she turns them all. Don’t forget that Mary is a member of the human race, too, and she had to be redeemed as well as others; but because she was so closely associated with Christ she was redeemed uniquely. She was not born into the world stained with original sin in the first place, so that she was never under the domination of Satan in any way. By her free consent to be the Mother of God she entered into the great work of redemption with her Son. This participation in His work continued all through His life, through His Passion and on Mount Calvary, and in fact will continue until the end of time.

““So she is said to have redeemed the human race with Him. This does not mean that she paid the price of redemption; she could not do that. She had to have it paid for her, but she was so closely associated with Him that she is called the co-redemptrix of the human race.

““After she had helped Christ to merit all the necessary grace she helps in its distribution. First, she applied it to herself, and merited the glory she now has in heaven. Then, just as we can intercede for others and have grace applied to them so does Our Lady-we, perhaps, to some, but she to all. She has, as it were, convinced God to make grace available to everyone by her intercession and her part in the redemption. She, in other words, has won for all men every grace they ever receive. Now she disposes God to give every grace He ever does. . . . “

“Peter put the ring on my finger today in the Lady Chapel of that Church in the city where we go so often. Father Martin blessed it for us last night. He was quite pleased about the little invocation-”Ave Maria”-to you, which I had engraved on the inside. There were a lot of people around today when Peter put it on and held my hand briefly, but there seemed to be just the two of us in the whole world.

“We’ve set the wedding date, too; six months away. We must have Nuptial Mass, of course, and it just happens that your feast of Mediatrix of All Graces falls on a Saturday next time, so it is a natural. It will be a big day for us. I can look back then and see all the graces I”ve had to prepare me for marriage, and know that they all come to me because you wentto Jesus and asked for them. And I can look forward and tell you some others that I”11 need to be a good wife.

“It is just like my father to do a thing like that. Apparently, after Peter asked him if we could get married he went off over the other side ofthe city to a priest he’d heard of and asked if he could receive instructions in the Faith. He’d rather do it himself than ask us to take him along. Today he came in to dinner and asked if parents were allowed to receive Holy Communion at Nuptial Mass. When I asked why he just said, “Well, I would like to go with your mother the morning you get married.”

“We looked at one another for a while. We thought he might consider it normal for non-Catholics to receive if they wanted to.

““It’s all right,” he said, “I”m being received into the Church next week.”

“There was bedlam for a while then. My mother just sat there with tears in her eyes. She has suffered and prayed a long time for this. The rest of us went wild. Thank you, Mary.

“Wedding plans well in hand. My brother will be able to come home from the seminary and serve on the altar. Did I do enough Saturdays in thanksgiving for him, Mary ? I did go nearly every Saturday for almost a year before he went off to become a priest in an Order particularly devoted to you. Aren’t you just too cute about the way you answer prayers? I think he must have told mother some time before we knew, and he must have got her to talk to dad about it. She must have known, because sometimes I would see her just looking at him, and once or twice I found her weeping quietly.

“Anyhow, I made the five First Saturdays in thanksgiving and then added another Novena of Masses because he joined your crowd. Bless him and make him a good priest. Give him some of Father Martin’s understanding, but not so many rough edges, eh~, I didn’t tell him about anything, of course. He came into my room one night when I was in bed reading and told me about it. He let me kiss him congratulations, too, and he doesn’t often do that. He’s a man now. That’s one grace I”ve had; there have been men in my life, like dad and Peter and my darling young brother. It helps me to know what Christ was like in Nazareth.

“But about this wedding-a fine day please, Mary.

“And thank you for getting Father Martin to talk to Peter. Where do priests get their insight from? Anyhow he got hold of Peter and told him that most girls get the “jitters” about this time before they get married. He said 1 would be moody sometimes and a bit unreasonable, because, he said, marriage is a big step in a girl’s life. He must have told him to talk to me a lot and tell me he loved me often, because since then Peter has been marvellous that way. From what Peter has said it seems that Father said a girl sets the standard early in company keeping, and if she is good enough and sets a high standard and is an inspiration to her man, then he really falls in love with her. But towards the end a girl gets very weak, and it is up to a man to take the responsibility then for the company keeping. Peter would only have to be told that once, and he is certainly doing it. I get cranky sometimes because he doesn’t stay longer, but in the morning I know he was right. Thank you for all this, Mary, because I don’t think I could have lasted otherwise.

“It takes a long time to settle down in marriage and a new home and all that, so I”m afraid I”ve been neglecting my little blue book. The wedding was simply the most; weather, people, ceremony, everything. About all the sacramental grace we received I suppose you know more than I do, Mary. I don’t expect in my lifetime another few minutes quite as lovely as when Peter and I had received Holy Communion together, and knelt there in the sanctuary alone with God. Even the priest was away for a few minutes giving Holy Communion to the others, and we seemed to be quite alone at the altar of God. It isn’t bad form to shed a tear at your wedding is it, Mary?

“According to the books I read before the wedding to get all the information I could on the vocation of marriage, the sacrament gives us God’s guarantee of a whole chain of actual graces throughout all our married life-that is besides the great increase in sanctifying grace on the occasion, of course. So I know that when I need it you will be there, Mary, giving me God’s help.

“Please look after us. We are so happy I wouldn’t want anything to go wrong. I know I”m good for Peter, too, and thank you for that. You have been so good to us up to date. The honeymoon was a dream. We say the Rosary together each night, too, begun on the first night, so it shouldn’t be hard to keep up now. It is no burden, I just love praying to you with my husband.

“We found just the right house, too. Quite by accident, of course, because that is the way you do things often. Quite a spacious stone house up on the hill overlooking the water. They were renovating it when we saw it first, and I just knew immediately it was for us, so asked Peter to tell them to be sure and finish it in blue and white. The stone-work is excellent, and now it is all modernized inside it is just perfect. There is plenty of room in the grounds-and altogether it is the ideal place for bringing up children.

“P.S.: Please do give us children, Mary, boys and girls, and help us to be good parents.

“Last week we lost our only son. He was just a month old. Please intercede for Peter, Mary. He is finding it very difficult to reconcile himself to losing our boy. We have two lovely girls already, for which we are immensely grateful, but Peter did so want a son now. He has hardly said a word in the last week, just comes home and sits around or follows me about the house saying nothing.

“I miss him, too, Mary. Now I know what you felt like when you held the body of your only Son in your arms on Calvary. He is a saint in heaven because he had the grace of Baptism-and Confirmation, too-through your generous intercession. But we do miss him, and we want another boy soon.

“It was a very difficult confinement, and I suppose that made him just a little more precious. At one time the doctor did not think he would be born alive. You know how I prayed about that, and my heart goes up to you that you went to God and got the grace of Baptism for him.

“My brother was ordained a priest on the feast of the Immaculate Conception. I must hold a world record for crying. I was so happy I cried all the way through the ordination, when he gave us his blessing, at the first Mass and the reception as well. He spoke so well, too, I was proud of him.

“There would have been so many graces in the last years to prepare him for this that you must have been at God’s elbow all the time. I never cease to wonder at the power God has given you of dispensing every grace for every person. The graces of ordination and otherwise which make up the priesthood must be one of your crowning achievements. I thank you that you have given them to my brother.

“I still feel a little sad. He doesn’t belong so much to us now. As Father Martin said when he spoke, he is a priest of all the people now, to stand between them and God. Dealing with God will be easy enough I should think, especially as he will know the secret of speaking to you first, being a priest of your own Congregation. But the eminence on which he must stand before men is very high and dangerous, and I ask you to look after him. He has to go back to the seminary for a while to complete his studies, so he should be out just in time to baptize our baby when it comes.

“That will be four children in the house, Mary, and we would like another boy, a companion for our one and only Joseph (who has six teeth now).

“. . . . not feeling very well lately. I get so tired so easily. Try to have a rest when I can so as to be bright when Peter comes in. . . .

“. . . . perhaps I should tell Peter about it. Have not been well for months now. But there is no apparent reason, and it would seem pointless. Also have a persistent feeling that your Son is going to ask me to suffer a little. We have always been blessed so much that I suppose we must expect some suffering sometime. Even that is a grace, isn’t it, Mary? I mean to have a cross and use your help to carry it well. . . . .

“Today I saw the doctor again, Mary. It is just as I thought it might be. I am seriously ill. The doctor was not going to tell me everything, but I insisted. Apparently it is leukemia of some kind-cancer of the blood-and there is no doubt about it as a result of the tests they took at the clinic last week. He says there is no real hope of recovery, but he couldn’t say how long it might be.

“It is a shock, of course, to know that very soon I will be gone from the world, from the people and places I hold most dear. You will have to help me now, Mary. Death is taking solid shape before my eyes, and I can feel the stirrings of a great fear deep in my heart. You have always been my advocate with Jesus, and Father Martin told me long ago that your help is necessary in a particular way for a happy death.

“I have prayed to you for that for many years, and now when I need you most you will not turn away from me 1 am sure.

“I can go to the hospital for rest and treatment, which might prolong my life just a little or I can carry on my normal life as long as I am able. I don’t think there is much choice really. I will stay at home as long as I can and do my best to prepare them for when I am gone.

“It doesn’t seem necessary to worry Peter about the finality of it. He knows already that I am very ill, and it will be time enough when it arrives.

“I am fairly sure that this is the last time I will write in this little blue book, which I like to think of as yours, Mary. I am not sure what to do with it then. I would like to give it to Father Martin. It would tell him better than I could in words just how much he has helped me.

“There are many trivialities in it, as well as a record of some of the marvellous things you have done for me. Father Martin is older now, and I think his own face is turned towards you in heaven, too. He would no longer be amazed at the vanity and weakness of his Mary Anne, and he could sort it all out very quickly. Also he would know what to do with it-I don’t think I could bring myself to burn it, but if a priest does so, well then there would be something respectful about it all.

“Because this is probably the last time I will speak to you here, I must tell what is in my heart.

“I am afraid. Not necessarily excitably afraid-in fact, a real calm has come over me recently-but deep down afraid. Afraid to go from my house on the hill and step through the door of eternity and stand before the bar of strict justice, where my whole life will be laid bare, my motives scrutinized.

“The little things, the simple joys of life have become very dear to me now. I love the way Peter’s eyes light up when they meet mine across the crowded room, the few minutes of calm in the world when the sun has just set, the tint of a rose petal, the innocence in the eyes of children, even the smell of cut grass and the sound of feet crunching on the gravel driveway. I listen now to every word the priest says in his Sunday morning sermon, and I regret the times I did not listen so well.

“The doctor says that when the time comes I will probably suffer a lot and then go quite suddenly.

“I have had a good life. I have known what it is to love and be loved. I have had good parents to bring me up. I learned quite early the joy of loving God and you, Mary. I have had a happy home, security, children who are already growing up good.

“For all these things I have you to thank. I”ve always tried to realize that everything is through your intercession, but now I know it. It is one lesson I have learned well. I thank you for the Masses and Holy Communions, the Sacraments of Baptism, Confirmation and Matrimony, my Catholic schooling, the clouds in the sky.

“And now I am going to die. Everything that ever happened to me was a preparation for this. For this I was born, for this I fell in love and married, had my children, looked out the window of my stone house and down the hill across the bay.

“Peter knows now. I didn’t have to tell him. I went to bed early one night and he came in and sat on the edge of the bed and took my hand.

““How long is it going to be?”

““About six months.”

“No more. But he sat there for a long time.”

Father Martin closed the book and held it in his hand. He knew all the rest. The struggle to keep the home going to the last, the sudden collapse in the street, the last few weeks in the hospital, the Last Sacraments so well received, the prayers for the dying repeated several times when the end seemed near.

Mary Anne stirred and spoke briefly.

“I love God. . . . I love Mary. . . . I love Peter and the children. . . . Mediatrix of All Graces help me to die well”

A deep sigh. That was all.

After a few minutes Father Martin put the little blue diary in his pocket and left the room.

Imprimi Potest:

J. W. WEBBER, S.M., (Provincial).

Nihil Obstat:

BERNARD O”CONNOR, Diocesan Censor.

Imprimatur:

@ D. MANNIX,

Archiepiscopus Melbournenis. 24 October, 1960.

********

The Study of God

BY THE REV. G.J. MACGILLIVRAY, M.A

INDEX

THE subject of our Summer Schoolthis year is put down quite simply as “GOD.” You will have a number of papers dealing with various aspects of the subject. Some of the speakers will put before you the proofs of God’s existence. Others will discuss His nature and attributes and so forth. But it seems desirable first of all to consider a few preliminary questions, and to get some general ideas of the proper methods of the study of God.

Now the first question that arises is: Why should we make a special study of God? What advantages are we likely to gain from it? Have we not all a sufficient knowledge of God in the simple truths of faith which we learnt long ago in the Catechism? What is the advantage of going more deeply into the matter, and studying it all in such detail?

The answer seems to be twofold. In the first place we live today in England among people who have largely lost the true idea of God. Most non-Catholics will still tell you, if you ask them, that they believe in God. But their notions of God are generally very vague and often quite erroneous. They do not believe in God in the same sense as we do, and they have no accurate ideas of what we mean by God. So far has the drift gone since the majority of the people of England fell away from the Catholic Church in the sixteenth century. The differences between us and them are no longer merely questions of the relation of faith to good works, or the nature of the Church, or the number of the sacraments. They go much deeper than that. They are fundamental differences as to the very being and nature of God.

If therefore we are to be ready to give an intelligible account of our faith to those who ask, and to defend it as we ought, we must first of all get clear in our own minds what the Catholic idea of God is, how it differs from other current ideas, and on what reasonable grounds it is based. .

But, apart from the necessity of thus justifying and defending our faith, there is another and more fundamental reason why it is profitable to go as deeply into the study of God as our opportunities will allow. It is simply that union with God in love is the end for which we were created. But we cannot love and seek to attain what we do not know. It is essential, therefore, to have some knowledge of God at the outset. No doubt the only knowledge that is strictly necessary in this world is a quite simple knowledge of the truths of faith. But on the other hand it is evident that the more we can learn about God the better. The more we know of Him the more we shall love Him, and the more fervently we shall seek to attain Him.

That is why St. Thomas says that the study of God is the only study which can be called wisdom in the fullest sense of the word. People who are learned in some particular science or art may be called wise in a limited sense. They have wisdom of a partial kind. But true wisdom is the knowledge of that which is the first beginning and last end of the whole universe, and that is God

And so he says that the study of wisdom, thus defined, is among all the studies of men the most perfect, the most sublime, the most useful and the most pleasant. It is the most perfect, because in so far as a man gives himself to the study of wisdom, to that extent he enjoys already some portion of true happiness. Hence the Wise Man says: “Blessed is the man that shall dwell in wisdom.” It is the most sublime because by it man comes closest to the likeness of God, “who hath made all things in wisdom.” Hence, because likeness is the cause of love, so the study of wisdom specially unites us with God in friendship, and so it is said in the Book of Wisdom that “she is an infinite treasure to men, which they that use become the friends of God.” It is the most useful, because by this same wisdom we arrive at the realm of immortality. “The desire of wisdom shall lead to an everlasting Kingdom.”Itisthemostpleasant,because”herconversationhathnobitterness,norhercompanyanyweariness,butgladness and joy.”

Our next preliminary question is as to the means that we have of knowing God. And in fact there are two distinct ways by which, in this world, we can know God. The first is by the use of reason, and the second is by revelation.

Apart from revelation the only means we have in this world of knowing God is by reasoning from created things. It is necessary in these days to insist upon this, because non-Catholic writers are getting more and more confused about these elementary truths. Over and over again you find the most eminent Protestant writers saying that it is impossible to prove the existence of God by reason.They say that reason can only lead to a probability, and that you must accept the fact of God’s existence by faith. That is, in the literal sense of the word, preposterous-putting the cart before the horse. But then they do not know what faith is.TousthestatementthatyoucanonlyhaveaconvictionofGod’sexistencebyfaithisanevidentcontradiction, because faith (i.e., divine faith) means believing a thing because God has said it. Therefore you cannot make any act of faith until you have been convinced by reason, first that God exists, and secondly that God has spoken. But to them faith seems to mean believing just a little more than you can prove, without having any particular reason for doing so-a wholly irrational proceeding.

For us, however, there can be no question. Any particular proofs of God’s existence may or may not seem to us personally convincing. When we have heard a detailed exposition of the proofs, we may be inclined to say with the rustic, who had just been listening to a very learned sermon on this subject: “Well, no doubt it was a very fine sermon, but in spite of it all I still believe there be a God.” The fact is, of course, that it is by reason and reason alone, that we are convinced of God’s existence. Only our reasoning is of the rough and ready kind that we are accustomed to call instinctive. We are sure of the conclusion, and yet we could not put the process of reasoning, by which we arrive at it, into words. Probably a good deal of it is subconscious. And so, when we try to put it into words, we fail. Or, when we have heard it put by others in logical form, the reasoning does not seem to be conclusive, although in fact we are certain of the conclusion.

This is a very common experience in other matters. For example, a farmer will tell you with clear conviction of a coming change in the weather. But, if you ask him how exactly he knows, he will very likely not be able to tell you. He has, in fact, reasoned the thing out from observed facts, but his reasoning has been largely subconscious, and therefore he cannot fully explain the process. He is sure of his conclusion, but he cannot tell you why. Similarly, a learned old judge is said to have given this advice to a younger man, who had just been raised to the bench: “When you give a decision, never give your reasons. I believe that you are a man of sound judgment, and therefore your decisions will generally be right, but if you try to give your reasons, they will nearly always be wrong.” The old judge was quite right. The young man would have reached his conclusions by a perfectly valid process of reasoning, but when he attempted to put it into words, it would seem unconvincing.

In any case, however, we are bound as Catholics to hold that the existence of God can be proved by reason. The Vatican Councilsays:”HolyMotherChurchholdsandteachesthatGod,thebeginningandendofallthings,cancertainlybeknownfrom created things by the light of reason, “for the invisible things of Him from the creation of the world are clearly seen, being understood by the things that are made.” . . . If anyone shall say that the one true God, our Creator and Lord, cannot be certainly known by the natural light of human reason from the things that aremade,lethimbeanathema.”

Reason, then, tells us that God exists, and it also tells us much about His nature. It does not merely tell us that there is a First Cause or a self-existent Being, unknown and unknowable. By perfectly clear processes of reasoning it can be shown that the selfexistent Being must be one, eternal, immutable, infinite, in power, wisdom, love, justice and so forth.

The other way by which we can know God is revelation. God has revealed to us a number of facts about Himself. And here again we must be careful to be precise, in opposition to the loose thinking and writing of most non-Catholics. They are getting more and more vague about what they understand by the term revelation. In fact the word can quite properly be used in two differentsenses,awiderandamoreprecise.InthewidersensewecantalkaboutGod’srevelationofHimselfinnature.Goddoes reveal Himself through nature, because by the things that He has made we are able to learn many facts about Him. But in the strict sense revelation means a direct communication of definite truths by God to man. It implies something that may be called locutio Dei- God speaking to man. It is not necessary that the person to whom the revelation is made should hear any audible words. God has many ways of speaking. All that is essential is that God should somehow convey a knowledge of definite truths directly to the mind of some man or woman chosen as His instrument to make these truths known to the world.

This we believe that God has done through a long series of such chosen instruments, beginning with our first parents and ending with the last of the Apostles, and that thus we have a definite body of truth made known directly by God, and committed to that teaching body which is His Church.

Now this body of truth, which we receive by faith, consists partly of truths that we can also know by reason, and partly of truths that we could never have discovered by reason.

Here two questions naturally arise. The first is: Why should God have revealed what it is possible for us to know by reason? To this St. Thomas answers that, although these truths can be found out by reason, in fact very few people would have found them out, because to do so requires much study, and from that study many people are hindered either by their natural inability, or by their time being all occupied in providing for their temporal wants, or by laziness. Moreover, even those who did attain to that knowledge would require a long time to do so, and would hardly arrive before the time of old age. And even then, because of the weakness of the human intellect, the truth acquired would usually be mixed with much error. And so in His mercy God has been pleased to reveal even those things that could be discovered by reason, in order that all men may easily be partakers of the knowledge of God, and that without doubt or error.

The other question is: Why has God revealed to us those further truths that reason could never attain? The answer is that God has ordered man to a supernatural end, to the attainment of which he has to direct his intentions and actions. But no one can aim at an end which he does not know. That, however, which is strictly supernatural cannot be known by the natural reason, for it is the very meaning of supernatural that it is beyond the reach of all natural powers. Therefore for the attainment of this end a revelation is strictly necessary.

To this St. Thomas adds some other reasons. The revelation of mysteries, that reason cannot attain, gives us a truer knowledge of God, for it makes us understand that He is in His nature above all that the mind of man can conceive. And thus also we are saved from “presumption, which is the mother of error.” “For there are some,” he says, “so presumptuous of their own genius as to think that they can measure with their understanding the whole Divine Nature, thinking all that to be true which seems true to them, and that to be false which does not seem true to them. In order, then, that the human mind might be freed from this presumption and attain to a modest enquiry after truth, it was necessary for certain things to be divinely proposed to man, which werealtogetherbeyondthegraspofhisintellect.”

And finally he quotes the saying of Aristotle that it is better to have a small knowledge of higher things than a wide knowledge oflowerthings.”Fromallwhich,”heconcludes,”itappearsthateventhemostimperfectknowledgeofthehighestthingsconfers averygreatperfectiononthesoul.”

There are, then, these two sources, from which all our knowledge of God is derived-reason and revelation. And so there are two distinct ways of studying God. We may confine ourselves strictly to what we can learn from reason. That is the business of that branch of philosophy which is called natural theology. It reasons first from creatures to the existence of a Creator, or from contingent beings to the existence of a self-existent Being. And then it proceeds to draw out all that it can deduce about the nature of that self-existent Being, of our relation to Him and so forth.

Or we may include in our study both the truths naturally known by reason and those that have been supernaturally revealed. This is the business of what is sometimes called revealed theology, or sometimes simply theology in the strict sense of the term, as distinguished from philosophy. And this is, of course, the study of God in its fullness- the study leading to that true wisdom of which St. Thomas speaks.

We must now, however, take a general view of this study, and see what is the whole scope of it, and the several divisions into which it falls.

Theology is the study of God. But it is not confined to God only as He is in Himself apart from creatures. The consideration of creatures must come in, because we have to study God, not only in His eternal Being, but also under the aspect of Creator, and that involves a study of the relation of creatures to God. So, although it is not concerned with creatures in themselves, for under that aspect they are the subject of other sciences, it is concerned with them in their relation to God. And so theology, in its full scope, may be defined as the Science which deals with God, and with creatures in their relation to God.

Now this relation of creatures to God is twofold. For creatures come from God and tend to God. God is not only the Origin but also the End of all created beings.

Hence we get the arrangement of the Summa of St. Thomas. He begins in Part I with the study of God as He is in Himself- His existence and His nature. He then goes on to the distinction of Persons, considering God as He has revealed Himself as a Trinity of Persons- Father, Son and Holy Ghost. And then he deals with God as the Origin of creatures, the Creator. And this involves a discussion of the meaning of creation, of the origin of evil, and of the nature of angels and men. So that briefly we may say that Part I deals with God as He is in Himself and as the Origin of creatures.

Part II deals with God as the End of man. It proves that the true end of man is his perfect union with God in the beatific vision, and then goes on to show in great detail how man is to attain that end. We may seem in large sections of this Part to have got very far away from the study of God. We have long discussions on the nature of human acts, on human passions, on habits good and bad, and so forth. But it is all an exposition of how man attains his End, which is God, and so it is all quite rightly included in the study of God as the End of man.

Then in Part III we have the work of God Incarnate, showing how, in order to bring man to his end, God the Son became man, suffered, died and rose again. The meaning of the Incarnation and Redemption are drawn out at length, and it is shown how the work of the Incarnation is continued in the Church and in the Sacraments. And we end with the doctrine of the last things, the resurrection of the dead, and the state of the blessed in Heaven when they have attained their last End.

So St. Thomas includes the whole range of theology in the Summa. And, although it seems to embrace a multitude of subjects, its subject is really one. It is all the study of God-God as He is in Himself, and God as the Origin and End of creatures.

It is customary, however, in these days to divide theology into several divisions, and it seems useful here to give these divisions, in order that the whole scope and method of our study may be more clearly seen.

We begin, then, before entering on theology strictly so called, with philosophy, culminating in that branch of philosophy which is called natural theology. That is our necessary starting-point. We cannot deal with questions of revelation until we are assured at least that God exists, and know something of His Nature. We must at least know that He is a Personal Being, possessed of intelligence and free-will.

So much having been proved by philosophy, we proceed to what is called fundamental theology. The object of this is to establish the fact that a revelation has been made by God, and that the Catholic Faith is that revelation. We begin by establishing the possibility and necessity of a revelation. Then we examine the evidence for the fact that a revelation has been made, beginning with the Prophets of the Old Testament, and completed through Christ and the Apostles. We have to prove that all these did give a message from God, as they claimed to do. Then we have to prove that this revelation was committed to a teaching body, which is the Catholic Church, or in other words that the Catholic Church is the authorised teacher of the divine revelation, with the promise of divine assistance guaranteeing its infallibility.

We have now established our second source of knowledge of God. To the truths known by reason we can now add all the dogmas taught by the Catholic Church as truths revealed by God. And from this we can build up the structure of a systematic theology. This is dogmatic theology proper. It is the study of God in its most complete form. It is the establishing and systematising of all that we know about God from the two sources of reason and revelation.

Dogmatic theology is far more than a mere tabulation of the dogmas of the Faith. It starts with the truths of faith as its data. Its task is to prove these from the sources, to explain and illustrate them, to defend them, to deduce further conclusions from them, and finally to arrange them, along with the conclusions, in one harmonious and orderly system.

Dogmatic theology proves the dogmas of the Faith from the sources, that is from Holy Scripture and tradition. This division of theology is what is called positive theology. It does not, of course, undertake directly to prove the truth of the various dogmas to those who have not accepted the sources, or the conclusions of fundamental theology that a revelation has been given, and that the Catholic Church is the authorised teacher of that revelation. It can only confirm the Church’s teaching indirectly by showingthat every defined dogma is in accordance with the teaching of Holy Scripture, and with the tradition of the Church from the beginning. But even in doing that it greatly strengthens the Church’s claim. It shows that in fact the Church’s teaching does not change, but, although the expression of its teaching develops, it does hand down faithfully what was taught from the beginning. The next task of theology is to explain and illustrate the truths of faith, so far as that is possible. On this the Vatican Council (I) says:

“Whenreasonenlightenedbyfaithmakesdiligent,piousandsoberenquiry,itattainsbyGod’sgiftmostfruitfulknowledgeof mysteries, both from analogy of things naturally known and from the relation of mysteries with one another and with the end of man.”ThesameCouncil,however,bidsusnotethelimitationsofthisunderstandingofthetruthsoffaith.

“Still,” it goes on, “itis never rendered fit to perceive them in the same way as thetruthswhich are its own proper object. For the divine mysteries, by their very nature, so far surpass the created intellect that, even when conveyed by revelation and received by faith, they remain covered by the veil of faith and, as it were, hidden by a cloud, as long as in this mortal life we are absent fromtheLord,forwewalkbyfaithandnotbysight.”

It is important to bear this limitation always in mind. The mysteries of faith are of their very nature beyond the understanding of the finite mind, and when we try to elucidate them by analogies drawn from natural things, we must always remember that they are mere analogies and nothing more. Even the words that we use in attempting to describe the nature of God must be words that are primarily used for natural things. We must use such words, because they are the only words we have. But in applying them to God we are using them analogically. For example, when we speak of the wisdom of God, we are not using the word in the same sense as when we speak of wisdom in man. We mean that in God there is something which is analogous to human wisdom, but infinitely higher. We call it wisdom because that is the best word we have got. And so with all the other concepts that we form of God and the words by which we express them.

The nature of these analogous concepts, by which we try to grasp something of the being of God, may be expressed in this way. They are formed by affirmation, negation and eminence. For example, we say that God is wise. That is an affirmation. We find this perfection, called wisdom, in creatures, and we affirm that it must exist in God, because all perfections found in creatures must exist first in God, from whom they come. Therefore we affirm confidently that God is wise.

But then we go on to negation. Wisdom in creatures is something very imperfect and limited, and therefore, to avoid attributing that imperfection and limitation to God, we deny that God is wise in the same sense in which creatures are wise. And then we complete this by the way of “eminence,” saying that God is wise in an infinitely higher sense than that in which man is wise. There is something in Him which is analogous to wisdom in man but infinitely higher. This is true of all the terms that we use, and all the concepts that we form of God, even such fundamental concepts as being and existence. When we attribute being and existence to God, we are thinking of something analogous to, but infinitely higher than being and existence in ourselves. In the sense in which God is He alone is. We are not in the sense in which God is. We are, but in an infinitely lower sense. Being in us and being in God are not the same thing, but only analogous.

The inadequacy of our concepts is further seen, when we consider that God is absolutely simple. In Him wisdom, goodness, love,justice,mercyandsofortharealloneandthesamething.God’swisdomisHisgoodness,HismercyisHisjustice,His love is His mercy, and so forth. Or rather these are all identical with His essence, and His essence is identical with His existence. We have to think of God under a multitude of inadequate concepts, because our finite minds are incapable of doing otherwise. We cannot form that one concept which would express completely what God is.

All this, then, shows how exceedingly imperfect our knowledge of God is in this life, and how very imperfectly we can express what we know. But it does not follow that, because it is imperfect, it is therefore false. On the contrary, it is true so far as it goes. When we say that God is good, wise, just and merciful, we are saying what is true, although it is a very imperfect expression of the truth.

The next function of theology is to defend the truths of faith. But here we must make a distinction between those truths that can be attained by reason and those that are known only by revelation. The former can be defended directly by drawing out the rational proofs, and answering all the reasoning that may be advanced to the contrary. But with regard to the truths known only by revelation, it is obvious that this cannot be done. There are only two ways in which we can defend them. We can go back to fundamental theology, and prove that God has in fact given a revelation, and then argue that, since the dogmas are part of that revelation, they must be true. And then we can confirm them by showing that they are not contrary to reason, and showing the falsityofall arguments adducedagainstthem. Furtherthanthat,as St.Thomassays,”there aresomeprobablereasons that can be adduced for the declaration of truths of this kind, for the exercise and consolation of the faithful, but these are not to be used for the convincing of opponents, because the very insufficiency of such reasoning would rather confirm them in their error, since they wouldthinkthatweassentedtothefaithforsuchveryweakreasons.”

Theology, however, does not confine itself to those truths which are strictly contained in the body of doctrine revealed by God. It is not content merely to record, explain and defend the defined dogmas. It goes much beyond that, for it has a large department which is called speculative theology, the function of which is to take the revealed truths and deduce other truths from them by processes of reasoning. This is a perfectly legitimate process, which is followed in every science. But it is clear that the conclusions at which theologians thus arrive have not the same degree of certainty as defined dogmas. Some of them have a very high degree of certainty. Such are the doctrines which are technically described as being “theologically certain.” This means that the process of reasoning by which they are deduced from revealed truths is so clear that there can be no reasonable doubt about them. And yet they have not the absolute certainty of the truths that are de fide, and a person who denied one of them would not be a heretic. Then there are many other conclusions which are much less certain, and about which competent theologians do in fact differ. As to these everyone is free to form his own opinions.

It is of course in this region of theological conclusions that much of the fascination of theological study lies. Starting from revealed truths, by following out various lines of argument and deduction, you learn to see further and further into the mysteries of God, just as by research in the natural sciences you see further and further into the mysteries of nature.

And it is in this way that theology makes progress. Two Protestant theologians, members of this University, have recently put forward the remarkable statement that it is only Protestant theology that has made any progress since the sixteenth century, while Catholic theology has remained stationary. Such a statement can only be due to crass ignorance of all Catholic theology since the sixteenth century. The fact, of course, is that it is only Catholic theology that has made progress. Protestant theology cannot make progress, because it is never sure of anything. It is continually doubting its previous conclusions, running back to its starting-point to see whether it has not somewhere taken a wrong turning, putting the whole thing back into the melting-pot, and beginning again de novo. Catholic theology, on the other hand, goes steadily on. It does not want to gobackand “re-state” whathas already been adequately stated. It has a large body of ascertained truth upon which it can safely work, and from which it can go on to work out further and further conclusions. Sometimes these conclusions will ultimately be found to be implicitly contained in the original deposit of faith, and will come to be defined as dogmas. Others, although they can never be said to be actually contained, even implicitly, in the deposit, will be seen to be so clear that all theologians will agree upon them, and they will be regarded as theologically certain. And then beyond this will always remain a fruitful field for further speculation and research.

The final task of dogmatic theology is to arrange the truths of faith, together with its own conclusions from them, in one systematic whole. And then we see that all our knowledge of God- of God as He is in Himself, and of God as the Origin and End of creatures- forms one harmonious body of truth. We see the interconnection of one part with another, the bearing of one truth on another, and the logical connection of the whole. And the fact that this can be done is no small confirmation of the truth of our religion.

It is really a most astounding fact. A little body of men, devoid for the most part of human learning, Galilean peasants and fishermen, put forward a number of strange doctrines. Some of them are written down in a fragmentary way, others are handed on by oral tradition. These doctrines are discussed, analysed, fought over, by generation after generation. And gradually you find them being built up into a perfectly harmonious system, showing the perfect harmony of all the original doctrines, deducing a multitude of conclusions from them, without any contradiction, but all fitting in, so as to give us a consistent and intelligible doctrine of God and of the whole universe of things as related to Him. How could such a thing have happened unless the original doctrines had all been part of one truth coming from the Author of truth, and unless the Church, by which this developed system was worked out, had been guided and directed throughout the process by that same Author of truth?

So far I have been dealing chiefly with dogmatic theology. A few words must now be said about what are called moral theology, ascetic theology and mystical theology, for they are really branches of the same science. They are all truly parts of theology, or the study of God. Indeed St. Thomas makes no distinction. All that we now consider under these titles is dealt with by him in Part II of the Summa. For him there is only one science of God- God as He is in Himself, and God the Origin and End of creatures- and what we call moral, ascetic and mystical theology all come under the heading of God the End of Creatures. They teach the way by which man reaches that End.

Moral theology deals with God’s laws, with the distinction of acts that are right and wrong, that is to say those that, being in harmony with God’s law, lead us on our way to God, and those that, being against God’s law, lead us astray from the right path. Moral theology gives us the fundamental rules by which we must regulate our actions, if we would attain to God as our End, and discusses the application of these rules to an innumerable variety of circumstances, so as to cover the whole of human life.

Ascetic theology goes a step further. Taking the fundamental laws as known, it considers the various methods by which we may make progress in the pursuit of perfection, that is to say all the ordinary ways of self-discipline, of prayer and so forth, by whichwemaybringourselvesmoreandmoreintoharmonywithGod’swill,andsomakemoreprogresstowardsourEnd.

Mystical theology goes further still, and considers, not the ordinary ways of perfection, but the extraordinary ways. There are many holy souls to whom God gives special graces by which they enter into an extraordinarily close union with Him, such as is not attainable without such very special supernatural gifts. And so it deals with what is called infused contemplation, and all the supernatural experiences and phenomena that accompany such contemplation.

Such, then, are the methods of the study of God, the various ways in which we can acquire such partial and fragmentary knowledge of Him as is possible in this life. But it must be remembered-all through-that to study God rightly, and to acquire a true knowledge of Him, is not exclusively an affair of the intellect, not even of the intellect enlightened by faith. If we are to acquire a true and fruitful knowledge of God, we need also the gifts of the Holy Ghost, especially those that are called wisdom, understanding and knowledge, for these are the gifts that perfect the intellect, and make it capable of dealing rightly with supernatural truths.

So long, however, as we are in a state of grace, we all have these gifts. They are all infused into the soul along with grace. It remains for us to use them, and that we shall do if all our study of God is fertilised by prayer. For it is the nature of these gifts to make us well disposed for receiving the guidance and enlightenment and motions of the Holy Ghost. And it is by prayer that we open our souls to Him, and so allow Him to act freely upon us. That is why it is related of St. Thomas, admittedly the greatest theologian, and perhaps the greatest intellect, that the world has ever seen, that he learnt more of those divine things of which he wrote so profoundly by prayer than by study. And so the inspired Psalmist himself says :”Super senes intellexi, quia mandata tua quaesivi- Ihave understood more than the aged because I have sought Thy commandments.” And the author of the Imitation saysthat”agoodlifemakesamanwiseaccordingtoGodandexpertinmanythings.”

But all the knowledge of God that we can gain in this world is chiefly of value because it leads up to that perfect knowledge of Him which we hope to have some day in the beatific vision. If God has revealed Himself to us in a fragmentary way now, it is because He intends to reveal Himself clearly to us hereafter. The partial truths that we can learn here and now are intended to prepare usforthat full knowledge of thetruthto which itisGod’s purposetolead us. Westudyto know God as muchas we can here and now, in order that we may love Him more, and desire more earnestly that perfect knowledge which is to come, when we shallseenolonger”throughaglassinadarkmanner,”but”facetoface.”

Being a Lecture Given at the Summer School of Catholic Studies Cambridge, July 26th- August 4th, 1930

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The Sunday Gospels Explained

NEW YEAR AND EPIPHANY

BY REV. JOHN A. PHILLIPS, S.J

INDEX

NEW YEAR”S DAY

Feast of the Circumcision of Our Lord.

Gospel: St. Luke 2/21.

“He was Given the Name Jesus.”

PARENTS know what a problem it is to find a satisfactory name for a child. Our Lady was spared this anxiety. At the Annunciation St. Gabriel told her that her Son must be called Jesus (Luke 1/31). When St. Joseph agreed to accept the legal paternity of the Child conceived by the action of the Holy Spirit, he was given the same order (Matthew 1/18–21).

The Holy Name means “God is salvation.” This Name was to be given to Mary’s Child, the angel told St. Joseph, “because He shall save His people from their sins.” That is, this Child was the Divine Saviour coming to redeem mankind-to make it possible, even after the Fall, for men to become children of God again and to see Him face to face for evermore. He alone, in God’s plans, could bring this about, so”there is no other name under heaven given to men whereby we must be saved” (Acts 4/12). There is, then, no greater name than that of the Our Saviour. It is “the Name that is above every name,” the Name at which “every knee should bend in heaven, on earth, and under the earth” (Philippians 2/9–10). Hence, this all-holy Name should be always held in the greatest reverence and should be used only with pious love and devotion.

In the Holy Name is summed up all Our Lord “s work in the world. He came into this world”to seek out and to save what was lost” (Luke 19/10). His Name, therefore, is the most comforting and consoling of all names; for it is the Name of a supremely great Person who came to save us from the worst of all evils. Far from filling the sinner with fear and dread, the Name of Jesus inspires him with hope and confidence, because it expresses love and mercy. And to all-saint and sinner alike-it is a Name of strength and power, a pledge of God’s help and protection. That is why we use the Holy Name so often in prayer and in times of temptation.

May this great Name, then, be our support and strength throughout the journey of life, and on our dying lips may it be our comfort and the assurance of our salvation.

SUNDAY BETWEEN THE CIRCUMCISION AND THE EPIPHANY Feast of the Most Holy Name of Jesus. The Gospel of today’s Mass is the same as for New Year’s Day, which is explained, above.

THE EPIPHANY OF OUR LORD (Jan. 6th)

Gospel: St. Matthew 2/1–12

“Wise Men Came Out of the East.”

Our Lord was born “in the days of King Herod.” This was Herod I. He is often called Herod the Great, to distinguish him from various descendants of his who also became rulers in Palestine. He came of a race called the Edomites or Idumaeans, who were descended from Abraham through Esau. The Jews were descended from Jacob, Esau’s twin-brother, so the Idumaeans and the Jews were kindred peoples, but only the Jews had been chosen by God as His Covenant People. The descendants of Esau, therefore, were really outsiders.

In 109 B.C. the Jewish king, John Hyrcanus, conquered Idumaea and forced the descendants of Esau to accept the religion of Jacob. But no real fusion of the two peoples occurred. Every Jew knew that an Idumaean was no true son of Israel (Jacob).

The Romans captured Jerusalem in 63 B.C., but they allowed Jews to rule in Palestine. During a period of weak government an Idumaean named Antipater became powerful. His son Herod won the favour of the Romans, and in 40 B.C., at the request of Mark Antony, the Roman Senate appointed Herod King of the Jews. The Jews refused to accept him as king, and it was only in 37 B.C., with the help of a Roman army, that he was able to capture Jerusalem and establish himself in his capital city. The Jews nevertheless continued to look on him as an outsider-neither true Jew nor real king. Driven by fear and passion, Herod struck down all possible rivals, even some of his own sons. Finally, the Roman Emperor forbade him to execute any member of his family without permission from Rome.

Then, one day, some strangers from far away eastwards rode into Jerusalem and innocently asked: “Where is He that has been born King of the Jews? We have seen His star in the East, and we have come to worship him.” The question disturbed the whole city. It suggested that there existed a direct challenge to the man who had been appointed King of the Jews by the Roman Senate. Moreover, if He were born King of the Jews, He must be the Messiah, and so, according to the Jewish ideas of the time, He would establish again the kingdom of His father David. Clearly, Herod would not face such a threat calmly.

We call these strangers “Magi.” Originally they were the priests of the Medes. In time these priests spread over a wide area between the Arabian Desert and India. Individuals among them could be mere sorcerers like Simon Magus (Acts 8/9), but in general they were educated men who made a study of the stars and tried to interpret their meaning. The religion of the Magi was remarkably spiritual. The Greek historian Herodotus said that hymns and prayers were their principal worship. These prayers, he said, were addressed to”the Supreme God Who fills the wide circle of heaven.”

The Magi were not kings, though they could have been men of considerable importance in their own country. They seem to have been wealthy, as they were able to make the long journey to Palestine.

When the Magi’s question was reported to King Herod he immediately called a council of learned Jews and asked them where the Messiah would be born. They. promptly answered,:”In Bethlehem.” And they quoted the prophet Michaeas .(5/2) in proof. Herod then interviewed the Magi in secret. He was most anxious to know when they had first seen the star. Then he told them to go to Bethlehem and find the newborn King. When they had paid their homage to Him they must return and tell King Herod, so that he, too, could go and worship Him.

The Magi turned south from Jerusalem, and then suddenly their star shone out again and brought them to the cradle of Israel’s true King. As the Magi rejoiced greatly when they saw the star, it seems that the star had not guided them all the way. They saw it from their own country, and somehow they understood its meaning, so they had set out for the capital city of the country of the Jews. There, they naturally thought, they would find the royal Child. Of Herod they had no suspicions.

The star has been the subject of much speculation. Various astronomers and Scripture scholars have tried to identify it with Halley’s Comet or with some grouping of planets, but no convincing case seems to have been put forward in favour of a purely natural explanation of the star. As the star would have moved from north to south as the Magi went from Jerusalem to Bethlehem, it seems best to regard it as a preternatural guide provided for the Magi by God’s Providence. He guided by the direction of an angel the Israelite shepherds, who would be familiar with the accounts of angelic manifestations in the history of their people. The Magi were astronomers, so God guided them to the Crib by a star.

The star brought the Magi to a house. Apparently, the housing shortage ended with the departure of the crowd that had filled Bethlehem for the census, and so St. Joseph was able to get a house. The Magi entered, and”they found the Child with Mary His Mother.” The new-born King was enthroned in His Mother’s arms, and the Magi bowed down before Him in deepest reverence, offering Him the precious gifts that they had brought from their far-away country.

Warned in a dream not to return to Herod, the Magi took a different route back to their own country. Probably they went round the southern end of the Dead Sea and escaped into the Syrian Desert.

When the Magi did not return, Herod showed his mind. He had said he would go and worship the Child. He sent his soldiers to kill every male child up to two years of age in Bethlehem and the neighbourhood. Two years was, no doubt, a wide margin on the time since the Magi said the star had first been seen. Herod would take no risks.

Herod’s savage endeavour to destroy the King he thought was a rival to his own power was frustrated. The Holy Family were already refugees in Egypt when Herod once more shed the blood of his people in yet another endeavour to destroy any possible threat to his throne.

The Festival of the Epiphany, of the Manifestation of the Saviour to the Gentile world, is celebrated by the Church with great solemnity. It is, indeed, our festival; for almost all the members of the Church belong to the non-Jewish, or Gentile, races. We rejoice, then, that the gates of the Church were thrown wide open to the world and that we have access to all the blessings stored for us in the Church of Christ Our Lord, the source of every grace. The Magi were the first Gentiles to come to Christ. After them has come a countless throng-”a great multitude that no man can number, from every nation, and tribe, and people, and tongue” (Apoc. 7/9).

If we look closely at the Magi who appear in the Cribs in our churches we shall generally find that one of them is white, one coal-black, and the third something in between. One is also generally represented as young, one as old, and one is middle-aged. This is meant to teach us that Our Lord is Saviour of all mankind-of every race and every age.

One other thing may be noted. The Magi”found the Child with Mary His Mother.” That is where we shall find Him, too. The true Christ is not some vague idea-He had a real human nature, so real that He was born into this world of a human Mother. He is one of our race, one of us, through Mary.

“Through all the ages,

Throned upon thy knee,

Mother-Maid, the Almighty

Child and Lord we see.”

SUNDAY WITHIN THE OCTAVE OF THE EPIPHANY

FEAST OF THE HOLY FAMILY

Gospel: St. Luke 2/42–52.

“He Was subject to Them.”

No doubt this passage from St. Luke “s gospel was chosen for today’s Feast mainly because of the last two verses, which sum up the life of Jesus in Nazareth. However, the whole incident portrays the attachment of Mary and Joseph to the Child Jesus and their care and concern for Him, thus providing an example to all parents.

When Jesus was twelve years old the Holy Family went up to Jerusalem to celebrate the Passover. After the Festival, the Boy stayed behind in the city, while Mary and Joseph set out with the other Nazareth pilgrims on the return journey. They were both under the impression that Jesus was with relatives or friends in the group. Only when camp was pitched for the night did they discover that He was missing. Filled with great anxiety and concern they returned the next day to Jerusalem and searched for the lost Child. Only on the third day did they find Him-in the Temple.

The scene that met their gaze filled them with astonishment. The Boy Jesus was seated in the midst of a group of teachers who were experts in the Law of Moses, just as though He were one of them. He was listening to them and asking them questions. The learned men around Him were obviously filled with amazement at the searching nature of these questions and also at the replies that He gave as they asked Him questions in their turn. Indeed, everybody present was listening spellbound. Never had they heard anyone, let alone a boy of twelve, speak with such wisdom before!

Finally, Our Lady went up to Jesus and asked for an explanation of His remaining behind in Jerusalem: “My child, why have you done this to us? Your father and I have been looking for you in great distress.” The reply of the twelve- year-old Boy again manifested His marvellous mind:”Why did you look for me? Did you not know that I must needs be in my Father’s House?”

This reply, first of all, indicates that the long search was not necessary. Where would Jesus be found but in the Temple, the House of His Father?

Then, these very words,”my Father’s House,” go deeper. Jesus reminds His Blessed Mother that she is His only human parent, although St. Joseph was quite naturally called”Father” in the home and before others. But, in fact, as Mary knew, the true and only Father of Jesus was God.

Finally, He said that He must be in His Father’s House. That is, He had come into this world to do His Father’s will and to carry out a special work, the Redemption of the world. Already He was beginning that work-no doubt by preparing the minds of the learned men of Israel for His manifestation of Himself in later years.

This was the answer of the Boy to Mary’s question why He had caused so much distress to those who loved Him. It was, in itself, a complete explanation, but neither Mary nor St. Joseph understood it at the time. Often and often Mary thought over that reply, and she came to see, especially in the light of Calvary, that her relation to Jesus had to involve her in suffering. He had a work to do, and the very character of that work, involving as it did His Passion and death, would bring pain and sorrow to one so near to Him and so intimately associated in His work as Mary was.

This answer was, indeed, a deep one!

However, the time for completing His mission was not yet come, so Jesus returned to Nazareth with Mary and Joseph”and was subject to them.” In Nazareth He grew up, and His wisdom manifested itself still more with the passing years.

In this mystery, then, we learn from Our Lord that God’s will is supreme. In every human life it must come before even the closest of natural ties. In giving Himself so young to the work He bad come to do, He vindicated the right of children to leave father and mother in order to answer the call of God. The vocation of a son or daughter may cause pain and sorrow to parents, but such sorrow turns to joy when the will of God is gladly accepted. Children who dedicate their lives to God’s service bring rich blessings on their parents as well as on themselves; but all this may be understood only with the passing of the years.

Happy will that family be which recognizes in practice the fact that the first and gravest duty of each member of the family is to do God’s will.

SECOND SUNDAY AFTER THE EPIPHANY

Gospel: St. John 2/1–11.

“There was a Marriage at Cana of Galilee.”

The Feast of the Epiphany recalled the manifestation of the Saviour to the Gentiles. The gospels of the Sundays following the Epiphany continue this theme. In today’s gospel we read that Jesus”manifested His glory” at Cana by turning water into wine. That is, His miraculous power showed that He was the promised Saviour of the world.

The most significant thing about this miracle is that it was worked at Our Lady “s request. Indeed, Jesus seemed to refuse to do anything about the shortage of wine, because His”hour had not yet come.” That is, it was too soon for Him to manifest His glory. Yet, by her order to the waiters Our Lady showed that she understood that at her request the hour would be anticipated. Jesus did, in fact, work a miracle for her.

If, then, Mary had not spoken, there would have been no miracle at Cana.

This brings out the fact that in God’s plans Mary was meant to play an important part in the work of Redemption. Indeed, the very term of address used by Our Lord-”Woman” indicates this, because it recalls the prophecy of salvation made in the Garden of Eden:”I will put enmity between thee and the Woman, between thy seed and Her Seed” (Genesis 3/15). Jesus also addressed His Mother in this way again at the end of His mortal life, when the work of Redemption was practically complete:”Woman, behold thy son.” Thus, His public ministry began with Mary’s prayer and ended in her presence on Calvary.

The nature of this miracle at Cana is also significant. For thousands of years sin had reigned in the world. Then Our Lord came to break its power and to pour out grace and blessing upon mankind. He established a New Order in the world-something as superior to what had gone before as the miraculous wine was superior to the water from which He made it.

This applies to Christian marriage. Our Lord took the natural contract of marriage and made it a means of grace, something of supernatural worth, of value for eternity. Thus, in the Christian order of things, marriage takes on a new dignity and meaning. The partners are caught up into a nobler scheme of things; for they are to co-operate in multiplying the children of God, thus giving increase and growth to the Mystical Body of Christ Our Lord.

When Mary blesses a marriage by her solicitous presence and Jesus raises it to the supernatural order by His grace, a union is formed that should be fruitful for time and eternity.

THIRD SUNDAY AFTER THE EPIPHANY

Gospel: St. Matthew 8/1–13.

“If You Want To, You Can Heal Me.”

In this passage we see Our Lord manifesting His power over disease, first over leprosy, then over paralysis.

After the Sermon on the Mount great crowds followed Our Lord, but the cure of this leper seems to have taken place in private. St. Luke, who was a doctor and knew something about diseases, tells us that the man was”full of leprosy” (5/12). Strictly, the poor fellow should not have approached Jesus at all. Lepers were outcasts, bound to live apart, and if anyone chanced to come towards them they had to give a warning cry:”Unclean! Unclean!”

But this poor leper, moved by a great faith and a desperate hope, came right up to Our Lord. In a gesture in which reverence and respect mingled with earnest appeal, he flung himself on his face before Jesus.”Lord,” he said, “if you want to, you can heal me.” Everyone shrank from the slightest contact with a leper, but Our Lord, the Divine Physician of all human ills, stretched out His hand and touched the leprous skin.”Yes,” He said, “I am willing to heal you.” Then He gave the word of command: “Be cleansed.” As Our Lord spoke, the man who had been “full of leprosy” suddenly ceased to be a leper. Leprosy, one of the most difficult of all diseases to cure, at the order of Jesus immediately fled from this man’s system and he was perfectly healthy again.

Our Lord warned the man that although he had been cured in such a wonderful way, he must still observe the regulations of the Law of Moses and show himself to a priest and offer the purification sacrifice. This showed Our Lord’s respect for the Law, which was still in force, and it also gave the Jewish officials testimony of His power.

When Jesus ordered the man to “tell no one,” He meant: “Do not publish this fact.” But the poor fellow was so overjoyed that he broadcast the miracle, with the consequence that Our Lord could no longer enter a city in daylight (Mark 1/45).

The ills of the body represent the deeper sickness that Our Lord came to cure: sin.

Indeed, the dread disease of leprosy, pervading and corrupting the whole body, gives us one of the most striking pictures of the evil of sin. A soul in mortal sin is like the outcast leper. It has no right to come to the Holy Table where the children of God are fed with the Bread of Life. If it wishes to be cleansed, it must first go anal show itself to the priest, to whom Our Lord has given power to heal the leprosy of sin. Humble repentance wins immediate restoration to spiritual health and the right to receive once more the Sacred Body of Our Lord, which will nourish and strengthen the soul, so that it may not relapse into that evil state that is really worse than that of a man”full of leprosy.”

The second miracle in today’s gospel is the cure of the Roman officer’s servant, who was paralysed and suffering very much. Jesus offered to go to the sick man and cure him, but the officer protested.”Lord,” he said, “I am not worthy to receive you under my roof. Just say the word, and my servant will be healed.” The Roman officer went on to explain his mind. As a subordinate officer he was subject to higher authority, but he also had men under him.

He knew perfectly well, therefore, what the exercise of authority means. It is as simple as saying to a man in the ranks:”Go,” and the man promptly goes. Well, Jesus is clearly possessed of supreme authority over disease, so all that He need do is “say the word” (of command), and what He wants done will certainly be done.

This was very great faith, and it was manifested by a”pagan” Roman. Jesus showed His amazement at such faith, and turning to the crowd He said,”I tell you, I have not found such great faith in Israel” -that is, among the Chosen People of God, to whom He had been sent.

Then Our Lord looked into the future, and He saw how faith in Him would spring up beyond the narrow boundaries of Palestine and spread throughout the world. Men from East and West would enter His Church and would receive the blessings promised to Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, while the”children of the Kingdom”-the Jews, who were promised these blessings if they were obedient to God’s will would, through their own fault, lose them.

Turning again to the Roman officer, Jesus told him to go-his faith would have its reward. At the word of command from Our Lord the officer’s servant was immediately cured, although he was some distance away.

This Roman officer has given us Christians an example of faith and humility. We should try to realize the greatness of Our Lord and His power, which is no less now than during His life in this world. On the other hand, we need to understand our own nothingness and our dependence on Him for everything that really matters.

The Church has taken up and adapted the Roman officer’s words, putting them on the lips of the priest when he is about to receive Communion:”Lord, I am not worthy that You should come beneath my roof. Only give the word (of command) and my soul shall be healed.” Turning to the people for their Communion, the priest repeats these words. This is a solemn warning to us. None of us can ever be worthy of so great a Gift, but we should try to realize how great and how wonderful Holy Communion really is, and so we should try to prepare ourselves as well as possible for it. If, like the Roman officer, we have faith and humility, then we can receive the blessing of Our Lord and all the rich graces that He brought into this world for our salvation and sanctification.

FOURTH SUNDAY AFTER THE EPIPHANY

Gospel: St. Matthew 8/23–27.

“Even the Winds and the Sea Obey Him.”

This Sunday Our Lord manifests His power over nature-over the blind forces of wind and wave.

After a hard day’s work preaching the Gospel, Jesus took a boat in order to cross to the Eastern side of the Lake of Galilee.

There He could more easily be alone with His disciples. The Apostles managed the boat, but Our Lord, tired out, fell asleep. Whilst He slept, a sudden storm swept down upon the Lake, and the waves rose and were beating into the boat. The Apostles had not yet realized that Jesus was truly God as well as truly man, so they had still to learn that they were safe with Him-even when He was asleep! They strove to keep the boat afloat and on its course, but soon they lost confidence as the waves rose ever higher. Filled with fear, they woke Jesus with the cry:”Lord, save us! We are lost!” Jesus first reproached them for their fear and their lack of faith, then He stood up in the tossing boat and faced the storm. Calmly, confidently, He rebuked the violent wind and spoke sternly to the waves. Then a strange thing happened. The storm died away. The waves ceased their attack on the boat, and the sea grew perfectly calm.

The Apostles had seen Jesus heal the sick and cast out devils, but it was something new and astonishing to see Him call the elements to order as a master might call to order his unruly servants. The Apostles looked at one another in awe and wonder.”What sort of man is this-even the winds and the sea obey Him!”

Yes, this Man had power that no other man has ever had. He had the power of God, for He was God. He made the world and all its elements,”and without Him was made nothing that was made” (John 1/3). The wind and the water are His creatures, and they must obey Him as their true Lord and Master.

Man is different. He has been given the great and wonderful gift of free-will, by which he can choose to serve God or not. In a state of trial, he may be tossed by the waves of various temptations. Jesus may seem to be asleep, but His power remains at our disposal. We have only to pray:”Lord, save us, or we are lost.” At His word the storm will cease.

FIFTH SUNDAY AFTER THE EPIPHANY

Gospel: St. Matthew 13/24–30.

The Great Harvest

In the time of Our Lord the Jews had a wrong idea of the Kingdom that God had promised to establish among them. They expected a political kingdom with a king that would make them rulers of the world. This was a complete mistake. Our Lord came to found a spiritual Kingdom in order to save men’s souls and bring them to eternal life in another and better world.

In an endeavour to correct the ideas of the Jews Our Lord told them various little stories or “parables” about the Kingdom.

The stories were natural enough, but they had a spiritual meaning. If the Jews thought over these stories they would begin to see their mistake about the Kingdom.

The Gospel passages read on the next three Sundays all contain parables.

The story in today’s Mass is about a farmer who put good grain in his field, only to find, when the crop was ripening, that an enemy had over-sown the field with cockle. This weed looks very much like wheat until it is well grown, but then it cannot be rooted out without harming the crop itself. That is why the farmer would not allow his servants to take immediate action. They must wait till the harvest. Then the reapers can cut the good grain, because it grows taller, and leave the noxious weed to be gathered up and burnt.

The explanation of this little story is not read in the Mass. We find it further on in St. Matthew’s gospel (13/36–43).

Our Lord explained to the Apostles that He is the sower who sows good seed-the Gospel-in the field of the world. The bad seed is sown by the devil. The good crop represents the fruit of the good” seed, the true members of God’s Kingdom upon earth. The weeds represent the children of the devil: those who do evil. The harvest is the end of the world, when Our Lord’s angels will gather the good into their Father’s Kingdom, there to shine like the sun for evermore. The wicked, on the other hand, must suffer the fate of the noxious weeds.

Here is an answer to the strange and puzzling spectacle that life presents. We could easily arrange, if we had God’s almighty power, a world that we would consider better. Yet, God is Wisdom itself, and He permits evil to exist in this world. Why ? Our Lord answers, in effect:”Do not worry. The world seems a strange one, but everything will be straightened out later. Only wait and trust. You will see that all the good will be separated from the wicked, completely and finally. The wicked will suffer a dreadful fate, but the good will be safe with My Father.”

That is the final solution to the problem of life. No answer concerned merely with our happiness or unhappiness in this world would be final. It is our state in the world to come that matters.

Our Lord, then, teaches us to look beyond the chaos of this world and to see God watching over His own faithful souls. He can distinguish them, without fail. For them He has prepared a Kingdom of everlasting glory where they will “shine like the sun.” No evil can ever enter there; for all evil shall be cast for ever into the concentration camp of unrepented wickedness. In our Father’s Kingdom there is only peace, joy, truth, and love, without end. This is a most consoling prospect.

As far as life in this world is concerned, the good may turn to evil, the wicked may be converted and become holy. Holy people have fallen into sin, while sinners have turned into saints. Remember the Good Thief, St. Mary Magdalen, St. Augustine, and so many more. Thus, the wheat and the cockle grow side by side, and there is no final separation while life lasts, because at any moment the sinner may be converted and turn to God. Only at death is our everlasting lot decided. What we are at that moment, that we shall be at the Last Judgment and for ever. There are only two possibilities: to be gathered into Our Father’s granary or to be cast into the fire, like harmful weeds. If, then, there is anything that we can do to persuade others to give up evil and pledge themselves to love and serve Our Lord, we should be eager to do it. On the other hand, we must always be on our guard lest the evil around us take root in our own heart and turn us away from the God that loves us.

Indeed, in the heart of everyone of us some cockle grows along with the wheat. It should be the aim of our life to destroy all the cockle and to develop the wheat to the fullest. If we do not do this, then the fire of Purgatory will find something in us that must be consumed before we can enter Our Father’s glorious home.

It is better to get rid of all the cockle now.

SIXTH SUNDAY AFTER THE EPIPHANY

Gospel: St. Matthew 13/31–35

Kingdom Parables

These five verses from St. Matthew “s Gospel contain two short parables and a comment on Our Lord’s method of teaching.

Each parable deals with an aspect of Our Lord’s Kingdom-that is, of the Church which He was establishing in the world.

The first parable is that of the Mustard Seed. So small was this seed that the Jewish Rabbis made the comparison: “As tiny as a mustard seed.” In Our Lord’s little story a man plants one of these very, very small seeds in his field. In time it grows, and when it has reached its full development it is bigger than any garden plant and is really entitled to be called a tree. This is shown by the fact that wild birds come and settle in its branches.

Here Our Lord is expressing the great difference between the beginnings of the Church and its future development in the world. Just as the tiny mustard seed grows into a tree, so will the Church grow from a very small number of. members into a great organization that will seem out of all proportion to its beginnings.

The Church did, as we know, begin in a very humble way. Our Lord Himself, its Founder, wandered about Palestine preaching and teaching, oftentimes with nowhere to lay His head (Mt. 8/20). The few men He chose to carry on His work were mostly poor and unlearned. After the Ascension St. Luke says that”about a hundred and twenty” disciples were gathered together (Acts 1/15). On Pentecost Sunday three thousand converts were made (Acts 2/41). Later,”the number of men grew to about five thousand” (Act 4/4). From Palestine the Church spread through the Roman Empire, and within a few years of Our Lord’s death it was to be found over a wide area of the known world. In the course of time the Church gathered men of all nations into her fold-civilized and barbarian, black and white, from the tropics of Africa and America to the Arctic Circle. This vast development far exceeded the natural expectations of men who judged only by appearances.

Perhaps Our Lord directed this parable against the false ideas current among the Jews in His time. They expected that the Kingdom of the Messiah would begin in some magnificent and astonishing way, and they were uneasy at the very modest way in which Our Lord sought to found the Kingdom. They wanted something spectacular (Mark 8/11). By means of this parable Our Lord taught the people that the Church would, indeed, grow into something great, although its beginnings were so slight.

What would make the Church grow, Our Lord did not explain here, but in another parable (Mark 4/26–29) He made it clear that His Church grows because of the vital energy in it-the Divine principle of life in the Church.

The second parable in today’s Gospel is very brief:”The Kingdom of Heaven is like yeast which a woman took and mixed with three measures of flour until it had all risen.” This parable is generally known as The Leaven, but the idea is expressed for our minds by the yeast that makes bread rise.

The point of comparison here is the fact that the entire quantity of dough is affected by the action of the yeast, which penetrates and transforms it. In a similar way the Church works her way through the whole world, “transforming all who come into vital contact with her.

This is true of each individual soul, of families, cities, and nations. Christianity makes a new thing wherever it is allowed to work. The Christian is very different from a pagan who has no vital contact with the Church. A Christian family is very different from a non-Christian family, and this is true of larger groups and even of whole States and peoples. Christianity transforms men. It makes, as St. Paul said,”a new man”-one”created after the image of God in the justice and holiness that come from truth” (Ephesians 4/24).

It is clear that Our Lord never thought of religion as a merely external thing, to be put on for special occasions, like our best clothes. To Him it was a vital energy working in our whole lives, penetrating and transforming us. If this is not happening, there is something wrong somewhere.

St Matthew adds that Our Lord taught the people in parables. This method of teaching, he says, fulfilled the prophecy (of Psalm 77/2)

“I will open my mouth in parables,

I will utter things hidden since the world was made.”

Through His parables Our Lord was teaching the people the mysteries of His Kingdom, truths reserved till His coming. The parable form of teaching was suited to Our Lord’s purpose, because He always started from something that the people knew from their own experience. This gave them a basis for understanding something of which they had no experience-the Church, its nature, its work in men’s souls, its work in the world. Some of the people would understand more, others less, but Our Lord’s method was that of the good teacher: He tried to lead the people on from what they knew to what He wished them to learn-to lead them from the material and visible world of everyday life to the invisible and spiritual realities of the Kingdom of God on earth.

Nihil Obstat

PERCY JONES Censor Deputatus

Imprimatur

@ D. MANNIX

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis 31st October, 1955

********

The Taming of Mickey Magone

BY DON BOSCO

INDEX

A STORMY MEETING -CHAPTER I

“Hey, come on, get him. Don’t let him get out! Wake up, there!”

“Missed him, General! He’s gone!”

“You good for nothing, you! Where are your eyes? The owner of the blustering, high-pitched voice dashed out of the darkness into the ring of yellow light cast by the solitary gas lamp at the corner of the railway station. His face was moist with the steadily increasing drizzle that clotted the atmosphere, and his eyes sharply reflected the dull beams as he roared in mimic military style “Attention, there! Who let the enemy through!”

He had hardly spoken when a wee, thin cry piped out.

“Break it up! Here comes a cop!” The General’s golden haired head bolted up defiantly. Why was everyone scampering away? He stalked boldly up to the black-robed figure that cast an ominously dark shadow across the muddy side street.

“See here, Mister, who do you think you are, breaking up our game like that”

“Hello, sonny! Glad to meet you! I”m a friend of yours!”

The boy eyed him. The stranger was middle-sized, well proportioned, and evidently used to work. A thick mass of black, curly hair stole from underneath a wide clerical hat. His face was of the strong, rural type, broad and open, a barely noticeable smile continually playing about his lips. A long cassock told the boy he was standing before a priest. But priest or no priest, figured the leader, he couldn’t break up their game!

“A friend, huh? What do you want with us?”

“I”d like to join your game. What about it?”

“Who are you? What’s your name?”

“I told you already. I”m a friend. But who are you?”

“Me?” the lad’s chest swelled a degree higher. “I”m Magone, General Mickey!”

“Glad to meet you,” smiled the priest. “Hello, boys,” he greeted as the little circle of Mickey’s army grew bolder and closed about the pair. Then, turning to Mickey, he continued “So you’re a general? How old are you?”

“Thirteen.”

“Pretty young for a general. But I”m mighty glad I got a chance to meet you. We’re good friends, aren’t we ? Tell me, have you ever been to Confession, yet?”

“Sure, plenty of times!”

“How about your First Communion?”

“I made it, already.”

Relations were less strained as the priest kindly asked, “Are you learning a trade?”

Mickey’s face broadened into a grin. “Sure, Father, I”m an expert at it, already!”

“What is it?”

“Doing nothing!” That didn’t sound so nice coming from the lips of a thirteen-year-old ringleader. It meant the prison sooner or later.

“What grade are you in, Mickey?”

“Eighth.”

The priest grew more serious as he questioned, “Are your parents still living?”

Mickey’s eyes blurred, and his steady lip quivered. “Dad is dead, and mum is killing herself taking care of us kids.” His army discreetly thinned away to continue their game elsewhere; it wasn’t right, they figured, to see their general softening. The priest put his fatherly hand on the lad’s shoulder.

“What do you intend to do for a living?”

“Dunno, but I guess I can’t keep on playing all my life.” Here was talent mixed with a certain degree of seriousness, thought the priest; a guiding hand would do the rest.

“I”11 tell you what, Mickey. Supposing you got a chance to quit the streets and set about learning a trade that would support you and your family, would you take it? This lazybone’s trade won’t get you anywhere, except to jail.”

“Sure, Father, any day!” burst out the General. But then his chin fell as he remembered. “But I”ve got no father; and my mother. . . . what can she do ? She’s too poor.”

“It doesn’t matter, son,” interposed the priest. “Look, here comes my train and I must leave. Say a little prayer tonight, and tomorrow go to your pastor and tell him that the priest who gave you this medal is interested in you. I”11 do the rest. All right ? Solong, and God bless you!”

Father pressed a medal into the boy’s hand, hopped on the train and waved goodbye to the band of street urchins that gazed ecstatically upon the huge iron horse that snorted smoke and fire and took people to the big cities across the mountains. Mickey was too surprised to answer. He shouted, but his voice was lost in the roar of the engine as it strained every bolt and nut in starting. The ecclesiastic smiled when the barely audible voice reached the ear, “But who are you?”

CHAPTER II- MICKEY FINDS A FRIEND

Mickey could not wait until morning. He lined up his sturdy ranks, dismissed them in truly military style, and then scampered off to the village rectory. Father Joseph looked at the excited little fellow, bedrizzled and gasping for breath, he managed to blurt out his story. “All right, Mickey,” I answered. “I”11 take care of the message. Now you go home and sit by the fire or you’re going to catch your death of cold.”

“But who is that nice priest?”

Father Joseph winked knowingly at the General and whispered, “A friend—a good friend!” Then, after the lad had dashed into the darkness again, he sat at his desk and wrote a brief note, addressing it to “The Reverend John Bosco, 5 Francis of Sales” Oratory, Turin.” “Mickey,” he wrote, “is fatherless boy. His mother slaves to keep the family alive. He himself has exceptional qualities, but he has no one to bring them out. At bottom he has an excellent heart, but the streets won’t help him keep it clean. His liveliness is amazing and makes him the worst boy in school, while he can easily be the best.”

The answer came from Turin a w eek later. “I will accept the boy. He has good stuff in him.” Mickey danced with joy when Father Joseph asked him if he would like to go to the City. Imagine—the City! where there were gold and wealth, stores and palaces, and where it was rumored among the country lads, the streets were paved with gold! He felt like a king as, a few days later, he sat on the hard wooden bench of the railway coach. A hearty kiss to Mum, a few tears brushed away with his sleeve, a farewell salute to his sorrowful army, and Mickey was off- for the City!

The City

With many a roar and puff, the train rumbled into the Turin depot. Mickey had been in ecstasy all the trip long, gazing through the cinder-coated windows at the new world that unrolled itself before him. As he alighted, his mysterious friend grasped the lad’s hand in a friendly grip and conducted him, wide- eyed, through the fabled streets of Turin. So this was the City, the object of a life’s desire! But his hopes fell when he rubbed his hand on the streets and found it was just plain dirt- the same stuff they had back in Carmagnola! The mere remembrance of home brought on a rush of new feelings and a queer lump in his throat, but he bravely swallowed it down, and set himself to enjoying the company of his friend.

“So you’re the famous Don Bosco who takes care of kids and takes them from the streets and lets them have a nice time in the Oratory and gets them a job?”

“Right, Mickey, but who also keeps them from sin and shows them the way to Heaven,” corrected the priest. “Are you glad you came?”

“Oh, you bet I am! This is wonderful!”

They turned off the street into a playground literally packed with little fellows and big fellows, all playing and shouting and raising an awful rumpus. But the noise never disturbed Don Bosco. He liked it, because it meant that none of his rascals was up to some sly mischief.

“Here we are, Mickey ! This is the Oratory !”

GETTING ACQUAINTED

Up in Don Bosco’s bare little room, seated at a plain wooden desk, in the midst of extreme cleanliness and poverty, the pair discussed the past and the future.

“Well, General,” smiled Don Bosco, “now that you are here, how do you like the place?”

“It’s very nice!”

“You’re very welcome, Mickey. I want you to enjoy your stay. Just don’t tear the roof down.”

“Oh, I won’t !” laughed the youngster. Then, more seriously, he added, “I wasn’t a very good boy outside. In fact, some of my pals are behind bars now. But I promise to behave and never cause you trouble.”

“A general’s word is good enough for me, Mickey. Now, would you rather study or learn a trade?”

“Whichever you want, Father, only I”d rather study, if I could.”

“Fine! Then we shall send you to school. But why do you want to study?”

Mickey turned pink, then vivid red, and stammered disconcertedly, “I”d kinda . . . well, you see, if. . . . . . .”

“If what, Mickey?”

“Well, if a wild bloke like me can ever hope to be a priest, I”d ah. . . . .”

“All right, Mickey. I”11 try you out. Time will show whether you have a vocation or not. Now all you have to do is buckle down to business, study hard, play all you want in recreation, be obedient to your teachers, and pray. God will take care of the rest. Now let’s go down to the other boys.”

As Don Bosco put his foot in the playground, a deafening roar of cheers greeted him. He waved his hand. “Go on with your games, boys ! And here’s a newcomer. Make him feel at home!” Another burst of cheers, and Mickey was soon lost in a cloud of dust, tearing up the field as fast as his tough little legs would carry him. He was once more General Mickey.

But Don Bosco was not finished. He called a boy, a fellow of Mickey’s size, a wide-awake looking lad, his pupil for over a year; his face shone with a strange looking light, reflecting his utter peace of soul.

“Here, Tommasso,” began the priest. “See that newcomer? His name is Mickey Magone. He’s a great lad, but as wild as could be. You’re going to be his Guardian Angel. How about it ? Can you see to it that nothing happens to him? Show him the ropes!”

Tommy’s eyes brightened. “As you say, Don Bosco. I”11 do my best.

LEARNING THE ROPES

Tommy kept his trust. He and Mickey became fast friends. Every day he was by the newcomer’s side, teaching him the schedule of the Oratory. In their class and in the chapel they were together, Tommy trying hard to keep Mickey out of mischief and to teach him the more refined manners of a schoolboy. Mickey found it hard at first, but he liked Tom. Often, when the bell would clang to put away all games and go to the church. Tom would look at Mickey, Mickey would look at the ball, sigh audibly, and then say, “Coming, Tom!” Once, in a burst of boyish confidence, he admitted, “You know, Tom, if you had only been with me all my past life, I would never have fallen into trouble.”

Don Bosco had not forgotten his new pupil. His watchful eye was always on him, and he often smiled to see the infinite care Tommy was taking of him. This system of a human guardian angel had always worked before; now it was going to change Mickey from a dead-end kid into a model of Catholic youth.

CHAPTER III- THE GATHERING STORM

Days rolled into weeks and weeks into months. Mickey was having a great time. Among the lads he was known as the General, and his leadership was sure to lead to victory. The hero of the playground, his name was on everyone’s lips. His steady trot around the field, or his dashes down the yard and his happy, carefree laugh were proverbial. But then all of a sudden, something snapped! The boys noticed it. What could have gone wrong with the General? He was as gloomy as midnight- not a laugh, not even a smile. “Tell him something,” it was whispered in sport circles, “and you might get a growl for an answer, if not something more dangerous. Generals are tough individuals to handle, especially at times!”

Comments spread like wildfire. Tommy was dazed, but the r emembrance of Don Bosco’s charge woke him up. He approached Mickey one day as the General was leaning against the side of the house. What a sorry-looking General he was! Tommy held out his hand. Mickey wouldn’t hurt him, not Tommy.

“Come on, General,” he pleaded. “What’s happened to you ? Why the sudden gloom ?”

Not a word. Tommy changed tactics.

“Come on, Mickey. Let it out. Maybe I can help you. Haven’t I always been your friend ? What wrong ? Are you sick, or is it something else ?”

Mickey’s eyes grew wet. Then out came the story with a flood of tears.

“I”m not happy! I can’t be happy like you fellows! You are good. You go to Communion. You pray. But I- .”

And another burst of sorrow choked him.

“Oh, come on, Mickey,” sympathized Tom, “you don’t have to cry for that!”

“Sure I do I You boys are good. I”m bad! I can’t go to Holy Communion! I cannot be happy !” “Of course you can, Mickey. Shake off all those troubles. It’s easy!”

“Yeah, easy! It’s easy! That’s what you say! But I can’t. Oh, go away! You’re not my friend!” and he shoved the good Samaritan aside to rush into the house. Tom followed him.

“Here, Mickey, you can’t run away from me! Wait a minute! I can help you out. Look, I”11 show you what to do.”

He clutched him by the arm. “Why don’t you go to Confession and tell the priest everything ? Then you’ll get God’s pardon, and you’ll be the happiest boy in the yard.”

“I can’t! I can’t!” was the smothered response, as Mickey tore himself loose.

A FRIEND IN NEED

Tom felt Don Bosco ought to step in. The good priest already knew of Mickey’s changed behaviour, so that, when he heard of Tom’s failure, he called Mickey to his room.

“Well, General,” he began, “I”d like you to do me a favour. Are you willing ?”

Mickey forced a smile. “Sure!”

“It’s something very important, and you must not refuse me.”

“Anything you want, Don Bosco.”

“Mickey,” the priest took the lad’s. hand, “I”d like to have your heart. I want to open it up and learn its secrets. Will you give itto me?”

Strange words, but Mickey read Don Bosco’s meaning in his eyes. Two big tears rolled down his cheeks, a lump arose in his throat, and it choked a whispered, “Yes!” Don Bosco put his hand on the boy’s heaving shoulder. “Let’s hear it all, Mickey. Tell Don Bosco about it.”

Between sobs it all came out. Mickey was in an awful mess. He felt so sinful and dirty compared to all his class mates. They went to Mass and Communion. They were happy because they were clean. But Mickey- the remembrance of his escapades at Carmagnola and his none too sinless habits overwhelmed him. He gasped, “I”m no good. Help me!” and a new rush of tears stopped him. Don Bosco waited. His saintly heart had gone out to the poor lad.

“I understand, my boy,” he whispered, and his voice resembled that of an Angel. Mickey calmed down. “What shall Ido, Father ?”

“Your conscience bothers you. It is the voice of God knocking at your heart. All you have to do is straighten out the affairs of your soul by a good Confession. Don’t do it right away; first think it over, examine your conscience. If your former Confessions were sincere, tell what happened since your last. If not, try to recall all your mortal sins since your last good Confession. Then go to the priest and receive his absolution. After that, you’ll be a new boy—and you’ll be happy.”

“But how can I remember that far back ?”

“Tell your confessor of your trouble. He will ask you questions, and you will answer yes or no. He will understand. Don’t worry. Now cheer up. Dry your eyes and follow my suggestions. It can’t fail.”

THE UNBURDENING

The brave general left Don Bosco’s room feeling better; a heavy load of doubt was off his mind. He spent the whole day in going over his past life; then, after night prayers, he approached Don Bosco.

“Father, I want to make my Confession before I go to bed.”

As he knelt at the holy confessor’s feet, he opened his heart in full confidence and unburdened himself. The gentle Don Bosco helped the lad with opportune questions, and as he raised his hand over the penitent’s head and whispered, “I absolve you,” Mickey burst into tears; but this time tears of joy. Oh, he felt so happy, so clean, so light ! At last, his heart was at peace with God.

“Father,” he asked, “are all my sins forgiven? If I should die tonight would I go to Heaven?”

“Yes, Mickey. Your soul is whiter than snow now. God has forgiven each sin and forgotten all about them. You are His own dear son now. Go to bed and enjoy your rest. You have nothing to worry about.”

But Mickey couldn’t sleep. He was too happy. Midnight struck in the distant city hall, and he still tossed about, thinking of the pure stainless soul that he at last bore in his breast. A moment of sleep came, but a horrible nightmare shocked him into a cold sweat, for before his eyes he saw a gaping pit full of flaming demons. He jumped in terror, but the thought of his Confession eased him. He breathed a short prayer of thanks, and then, chuckling over the devils he had fooled, he quietly fell asleep.

A NEW MICKEY

The next morning found the jolly, laughing Mickey of old. Tommy was delighted at the miracle, especially when

Mickey came over himself to explain it all.

“I”m sorry about yesterday,” he began.

“Skip it, Mickey!”

“I was in an awful mess, but Don Bosco got me out. Now I feel like a new boy. Oh, Tommy, you don’t know how rotten I felt yesterday—I was disgusted with my life. I saw myself as dirty as could be. But after going to Confession—oh, boy, what a change! What a relief ! It was as if I had taken a fresh bath and got myself completely washed. And now I feel so happy!”

“I”m happy, too, Mickey,” broke in Tom. “At last you’re our own General Mickey!”

“Not the old General Mickey, but a new one. Tom, if the boys only knew how a good Confession makes them feel, they would all go. If my gang at Carmagnola could only find out how clean my Confession made me feel, they wouldn’t hesitate a minute. And they need it, too, God knows!”

The change worked by Confession in Mickey was really marvellous. He was a new boy. Don Bosco felt more than happy as he watched the former ringleader go to Mass with devotion and approach the rail to receive Holy Communion. Another boy on the right track! It was a pleasure for the Saint to see the boy at his prayers. He understood them now and liked to pray. What a change! He went to Confession punctually every week and then oftener, but Don Bosco wisely stopped him. It wasn’t necessary and it might cause scruples to disturb that energetic little head. He knew. He had been with boys all his life.

CHAPTER IV- A TURN FOR THE BETTER

Dust thickened the air of Saint Francis of Sales” Oratory as hundreds of little feet tossed it about and hundreds of boyish voices shouted themselves hoarse. It was a merry sight; not one was standing still. All were in for fun, and they meant to make the most of it. Suddenly a brass hand-bell banged furiously, swung by an energetic timekeeper. In less time than it takes to tell boys hopped off swings and see-saws, balls were put away, clothes were brushed, handkerchiefs were busily applied to sweating faces, and order came out of chaos. Bigger fellows-monitors, they were called- huddled their charges into surprisingly straight lines, and chattering went on till a second signal would send them to the Chapel.

“Say, Tom,” burst out Roberto, one of Mickey’s adorers, shoving an insignificant third grader off his feet, “what on earth ever got over Mickey Magone? If he isn’t a new fellow, I”11 eat my hat—when I get one.”

“New is right, Bob,” chimed in a third boy, Patty he was called. “Why, honestly, you find him in church now when he doesn’t have to go! And before—oh, oh, anything but church for General Mickey! He used to squirm about and shuffle his feet and kick. You could see he was just waiting for the moment to go out and play.”

“He is very different now,” agreed Tom. “I”d call him a little saint if it wouldn’t hurt his feelings. Do you know, he actually kneels down and waits for hours to go to Confession? Imagine- for hours! Joe, the mason’s helper, tried it yesterday.”

“Did he make it?”

“We had to carry him out after the first hour. He just fainted right then and there!”

“The other day,” volunteered Roberto, “I was playing soccer with him. When the bell rang for class he stopped on the second. Another kidtold him to wait till the goal was made, but Mickey told him flatly, “Sure, if you give me what God will give me for obeying!” That quieted the youngster and almost knocked me off my feet.

“A smart city kid squawked when the bell rang for Benediction. Mickey heard him. He took him by the shoulder and told him, “It’s all right my friend, I was like that, too, when I first came. I hated church. Now I like it, because I understand what it means. It’s the House of God on earth, and it’s a privilege to kneel before the King of Heaven and pray to Him!”“

“Uh, that doesn’t sound much like the Mickey that first came here,” muttered Patty.

A loud clang brought a full silence, and the lines filed into the Oratory church, singing with all their energy. Once seated, the familiar form of Don Bosco rose before them on the rustic pulpit he himself had made. His pleasant stories excited their giggles, while the solid Christian truths he was teaching them sank deep into their boyish hearts. Benediction followed, and then the scramble to get out. Monitors did their utmost, but managed to stem only part of the tide.

“Look, there’s Mickey still praying,” whispered Patty, nudging Roberto on their way out. “Gosh, that big loon of a bricklayer actually kicked him that time, and Mickey’s not even moving. How does he do it ?”

“Don’t forget,” retorted Tom, “he’s a new Mickey!”

THE SONGSTER

Mickey Magone had a pleasant voice, a rich soprano. His open-heartedness and limitless energy lent a charm to his singing that few possess. And he liked to sing. That made it all the better. Don Bosco, a born musician, trained his little friend and made him sing in church during services and entertainments on holidays. A full applause was always his. One time he sang a solo during the novena for Christmas. It was beautiful, and outside his classmates cheered the singer. But Mickey wasn’t anything too happy about it. Later in the evening he told Don Bosco why.

“I sang for nothing. While singing I praised myself and lost half the merit. Now those fell ows took away the other half. And here I am with nothing!”

Strange sentiments for an ex-dead-ender. You would hardly have expected him to have reached that degree of Christian holiness. But he was there-and he meant to keep on climbing!

SCHOOL DAYS

Mickey was no dull idiot, but his inclinations led him anywhere that was not a school. The playground was his earthly paradise, and he surely enjoyed it. Every inch of the yard had been tossed up by Mickey’s wild little feet. Yet he had a head on his shoulders. He realized what an education meant, and he intended to get the most out of the opportunity Don Bosco was affording him.

In class Mickey was a lively jumping-jack. He did anything but sit still. Yet, in his dynamic way, he applied himself studied his lessons, followed his teacher’s explanations, and handed in his homework on time. Father John Francesia, who taught him Latin and who was later to end his life in St. John Bosco’s Salesian Society at the age of ninety-one, after a life time for work for boys, writes of Mickey:

“I never had to scold him. He was lively, very lively, but respectful. He skipped second year and went directly into Subintermediate. What is more, he headed the Class in diligence and talent. After Don Bosco’s work on him, he became a new lad. He was serious, more than it appeared on first sight. There were deep and manly thoughts in that golden-haired head. I taught him Latin, but I must say that he taught me that virtue can exist in young school boys.

The poet’s phrase is well suited to him:

“The wisdom of the aged

“Neath the fair locks of youth.”

“I remember once that I had asked him to scan some newly dictated lines of Virgil. “I”m not so good at it,” he stammered “Try anyway,” I answered. The result was a surprise, much as I knew his ability; it was a perfect piece of work.”

THE TREASURER

Don Bosco was most practical as an educator. Years of contact with boys had taught him to stick to facts. He knew, for instance, that boys waste time. What could he do to correct them? Preaching on the value of time would be like talking Chinese to his little lads. So he used the pocket book. “Every moment is a treasure,” he urged very business like. “Lose a minute and you lose a penny. Lose an hour and you lose five shillings. Lose a whole morning and you lose a pound. It piles up. And don’t think you’ll ever get those minutes back again. You are preparing yourselves for life; every moment counts. If you waste your time in school you won’t be able to get ready for life in the world. You will be a perpetual “take-iteasy,” and your moments will be measured in money.” Mickey understood. He set his chin grimly. “Every moment is a treasure, and I”m not going to throw mine away.” His teachers marvelled to see him busily using up every moment of time with his studies. “He’ll get somewhere,” his class mates predicted. He did. He got to Heaven!

BOOKKEEPER

Around Easter, all the boys of the Oratory made a spiritual Retreat, putting aside all their school books and trying hard to impress upon their minds the lasting values of Life, of the Soul, of Hell, and of Heaven. Mickey made an excellent retreat, and at the end he went to his saintly Director.

“Father, I have learned a lot of things in these few days. Now I”d like your permission to make a vow never to lose a moment of God’s time.”

The straightforwardness of the statement startled the priest. He patted the ardent fellow’s head, and replied, “Not a vow, Mickey. Just give Our Lord your word and live up to it. He will trust you.”

Then Mickey began his bookkeeping-keeping account of himself. Every day he would give himself a mark for conduct. He would constantly refer to it, note the ups and downs, renew his promise, and keep up the struggle. If he got too low a mark he punished himself by not taking his dessert or by not playing a complete game. That last penance hurt. The dessert he could afford to skip, but the game-his reputation was at stake! Yet he knew how to swallow his pride, check his rising passion and take the self-imposed penance.

SERVICE WITH A SMILE

When General Mickey first came to the Oratory his schoolmates kept their distance. It might be dangerous to get him upset; one could see that from his eyes. He wasn’t bad, but- well, he was a general, and you can’t ask generals to do certain things. But after that one Confession to Don Bosco Mickey became personified “Service with a smile.” Whatever went on between priest and penitent will never be known, for a sealed confessor’s heart has carried it to the silent grave, but Mickey was no longer the ringleader of Carmagnola. He lent a hand to everyone who needed it. Little fellows were taught how to play and were befriended against bullies. He was ready to tidy them up in the morning and before class; he combed their hair, brushed their clothes, and even sewed their ripped trousers. Some tiny third grader might come to him with the plea:

“General Mickey, will you please write a letter to my Mummy for me ?” and would proudly return to his classmates with a letter nicely written in Mickey’s neat hand.

Mickey was willing to try his hand at everything useful. Waiting at table, patching torn clothing, coaching a team, helping a weak student over tough spots, teaching Catechism- Mickey did it all, and with his proverbial ear-to-ear smile. . At teaching Catechism to the younger tots he was particularly successful. His cheery ways-borrowed from Don Bosco-kept his pupils attentive, while his deeply rooted piety worked its way into their pliable hearts.

CHAPTER V- THE MODERN KNIGHT

Don Bosco had been hearing his boys” Confessions all afternoon, and he now felt tired; a painful throbbing at the temples kept pounding his brain like the blows of a rivet hammer. He needed a moment’s rest, so he sat down in his room by the window that opened out into the playground. He felt better when he saw his motley crowd of orphaned or abandoned lads running about and playing like young colts. It did his heart good to see the fun they were having. A few young priests and seminarians, all former pupils and ardent lovers of Don Bosco were taking charge. The holy educator chuckled. There was no room in that dust clouded playground for some tricky devil As his eye scanned each group of players he could catch sight of Mickey kicking a successful goal; roars and cheers greeted the victory. General Mickey was at his best! But then-Don Bosco craned his neck to see now what was wrong ? A smaller fellow was shaking his fist in Mickey’s face and shouting as low as his lungs would let him. Another scrap. It looked like the opposing team would not grant the victory. “You cheated us,” they cried. “You can’t block our rear guards like that!” It might become serious, thought Don Bosco, so “Break it up” he shouted to a priest below. Just then Mickey’s hand went up. ~ “We give it to you! Go ahead, take the ball!” It was all over. The priest relaxed and smiled. It was not the first time Mickey checked his fiery temper, whetted by years of gang leadership, and had given in.

FOR MY QUEEN

Later in the afternoon, the playground hero ran up the rickety stairs to Don Bosco’s room, politely knocked, and then, seated on the straw sofa, began, “Father, I”d like you to do me a favour.”

“Surely, Mickey, but first of all tell me a thing. Whenever someone crosses you like that little fellow did this afternoon, why do you check your tongue ? What makes you give in ?”

Mickey held nothing back from his Director. “I do it for my Queen, and I tell Her, “All for you!” If the knights of long ago could do it, so can I.”

“Good, Mickey! That’s the spirit! Now what’s your favour ?”

A blush, then a few stammering words, told the secret. Don Bosco smiled. “So you want to give your Queen everything ?”

“Yes, Father. I want to make a vow of purity in her honour, like Saint Aloysius did many years ago.

“The Blessed Virgin is glad, Mickey, and she accepts your homage. But you are still too young to make a vow. Instead, make a simple promise to be most careful in preserving purity and to become a priest if later on you have a vocation. What do you say to that ?”

“All right, Father. Whatever you say. As long as my Queen is pleased.”

The saintly priest patted the boy’s head and then watched him cross the playground to the church to offer Mary his gift of himself. Oh yes, he reflected, what a difference there was in Mickey! He was decidedly on the right track now. He couldn’t go wrong with such a Queen taking care of him. From the day he had found a note from Mickey on his desk, Don Bosco had known Mickey was in good hands. He again took the tiny slip from a desk drawer; it was in the lanky, long-legged script of a schoolboy.

“My Blessed, Mother,” it read, “wishes to take me under her special protection to teach me how to give myself to God.” To give himself to God, Don Bosco mused. Imagine a ringleader giving himself to God! “Therefore I will do all I can to be good son. I will forgive every offence for her sake. Heat, cold, hunger-I will offer all to her. And every Sunday I will offer my Holy Communion for that soul in Purgatory who in life was devout to her.” It was signed Mickey, for he had long since discarded his title.

And Mickey was faithful to his word. Anything for his Queen-and everything! When he would sit down in the study hall and open his books, out would come a picture of the Blessed Mother, on the back of which was written in good Latin, “Virgo potens, studiis semper adesto meis !” (Virgin most powerful, be always with me in my studies!) If he got sick in some verbial “killing” algebra problem, his lips would move in a plea to Mary, and the answer generally came after that. As far he was concerned, he was pledged to the Queen of Heaven and Earth. It took little effort to work for her, because his heart was always in her hands.

AN UNSPOTTED BANNER

There is nothing as attractive as a pure child. The light of God shines from its countenance; its eyes are reflections of the Divine Brightness. Poets have written multitudes of lines on the beauty of a pure soul, beginning from Solomon, who burst forth with the inspired, “Oh, how beautiful is the chaste generation with glory!” But there is nothing as shameful as a boy who has lost his godlike radiance and has sunk his soul in the mire of uncleanness. Don Bosco knew it, for thousands of souls passed through his hands in the confessional, and he could actually feel their wretchedness. He saw moral evil with all its consequences in the forlorn side-streets of big cities, in the dinginess of prisons, in the hovels of the forgotten poor. And he pledged himself to rid the earth of its filthiness. He worked to wash those wayward souls of their dirtiness and keep them clean. Every boy in his Oratory feared impurity; they detested its mere suggestions, because Don Bosco’s godlike spirit had entered their hearts.

Mickey was no exception. He loved Don Bosco especially for the unique purity that seemed to radiate from his very person. Time and again, he had seen this father of orphaned youth shed bitter tears in the pulpit over the foulness of an unclean soul; he had heard his inspiring counsels in the confessional; he had seen him wage a relentless campaign against immorality. And in his own little way, Mickey joined the war.

He first of all watched himself; not a spot had to tarnish his soul. He had given himself to his Queen. How could he stand before her immaculate person with the taint of impurity?

ON TO VICTORY

Don Bosco watched Mickey’s victorious battle for purity. As his confidant, he witnessed the manly spirit of resistance and the sheer determination of the lad to stay as pure as an angel. “Keep it up!” he urged. “The victory is all on your side!” He suggested various weapons to use, all of them simple but efficacious. Mickey has preserved them for us in a letter written to a close friend of his. “Don Bosco,” he. writes, “gave me a slip of paper on which was written, “Read and practise these five counsels of St. Philip Neri to his boys to preserve the virtue of Purity: Flee from bad company. Don’t pamper your body. Never be idle. Pray. Go frequently to Confession and Communion.

Following the advice of Don Bosco, Mickey made rapid progress in the Angelic Virtue. Gradually the unhealthy impressions left on him by his looser ways at home were erased from his mind. The fight became easier, and Mickey began to understand the happiness of the clean of heart. With anxious mind Don Bosco witnessed the struggle; his eye alone could see the skirmish, for Mickey held nothing from his Confessor. Over and over again, the wise guide offered the proper tactics, like a general following a war he cannot personally fight but can only plan. With keen spiritual insight he foresaw each push of the enemy and hastened to reinforce the weak spots of the fighter’s soul. One time it might be a simple, “Good work! Keep it up!” or “Don’t worry!” “In temptations kiss the crucifix, your rosary or your medal.” More often it was, “Avoid idleness! Keep busy! When the devil tempts you, turn your mind to something else, something you likesome hobby or other, a story, a poem, a game. Never let the devil find you doing nothing.”

Faithfully Mickey followed his confessor’s lead, and the way opened to victory, moral victory, a victor y too many youngsters fail to gain. But Mickey achieved it. By might and main he strove to conquer the rebellion of his lower instincts. He knew he was not an animal or a refined brute, a victim to the baser corruptions of the flesh. He knew he had a precious, God- redeemed soul, destined for an eternity of bliss or an eternity of hell, and he knew the decision lay with him. As any general would do, he decided to win-and he won! The banner he fought under was the banner of Mary Immaculate-that glorious, sunlit flag whose whiteness is brighter than snow, and whose folds are flung far and wide to shelter every youngster in the world. Boys and girls of all nations can run to this Queen for protection and find their salvation in her. Mickey rushed to her side, and found the Purity he was striving for.

CHAPTER VI- PLAYING A NEW ROLE

Everyone has a bit of selfishness in himself-that unpleasant tendency to keep one’s eyes centred on one’s self, that gives him the twist of a circle, constantly revolving and revolving about a single point-self. Boys have it more than adults, who generally grow out of the circle. Of course, they also manage to break loose sometimes, but then it is usually to help a selected few, not others, still less those who are not friends. But Mickey was determined to break free altogether and give himself to all without distinction. This is how he won for himself the nickname “Handy-Mickey.”

The best place to begin was the playground; Mickey was at his best there. With surprising patience, he taught them how to keep a soccer ball rolling down the field or how to defend the goal. Then he explained the rules of a multitude of games that only boys can make up. At the swings or on the bars, Mickey was ever ready to boost a youngster up- or sometimes catch him on the way down! Then a gentle rubbing on the sore spot, a joke or two, and a final, “Atta, boy!” would set the victim back on his perilous seat. General Mickey was an all-round hand, and he was liked. Never in the way, but always on the spot.

School work was none too easy for some country lads, who always found that they couldn’t leap over the hurdles of a Latin declension or plough through a page of poetry or find their way through a maze of arithmetic problems. Then Mickey came in handy. By careful questions he put the student on the right track, helped him over the bumpy spots, and saw to it that the lesson stuck. “Great teacher!” was the simple comment of his admirers.

But sometimes being “Handy Mickey” meant a bit of pain. Once, for example, one of his school mates, not used to the rigours of a Turin winter, and unable to get a pair of gloves (they were almost a luxury in those days of political and economical distress), suffered from acute pains in the hands and feet. “Look Mickey,” he confided, trying hard to keep back his tears, “my fingers are all swollen and they hurt.”

“Those are chilblains,” Mickey answered. “Here, use these. They will help you,” and he stripped off his gloves, thus exposing his own hands to the icy air. But that wasn’t all, either. He wrote out his homework for him, made his bed, and helped him in a thousand ways.

Because of his hot temper, he was often overcome with anger, but in such cases a single word was enough to get him to check himself. “Mickey is that the way Don Bosco says a good Catholic boy suffers injury?”

“I”m sorry,” would be the response, followed by an apology to his momentary opponent. At times Mickey would be the peacemaker between other enemies. Though short of stature, he would rush to the scene of the fight, separate the angry pair, and by a few chummy words get them to shake hands and make up.

Teaching Catechism was another hobby of his, as well as visiting the sick in the infirmary. His jolliness did much towards improving the spirits of the depressed little patients. “Hi, Mickey !” would greet him as he entered the room, and then a hearty “Thanks a lot !” would escort him out.

GUARDIAN ANGEL

When Mickey entered the Oratory, Don Bosco gave him to the charge of an exemplary student. Now he himself became one of these monitors whose services greatly aided the saintly priest in his task of caring for five or six hundred boys. His eye rested on a certain small fellow named Francesco, who was evidently out for a good time and nothing else, a programme of “eat, sleep, and take it easy.” Gradually he won the lad over to his side by playing with him, teaching him tricks, and getting into his confidence. Francesco was flattered to be the personal friend of the General and swallowed the bait. Then Mickey pulled in the line.

“Look, Francesco,” he began, “in a couple of days we are going to celebrate the feast of St. Michael, my name day.

Want to do me a fav our ?”

“Sure, Mickey !”

“I want you to give me a gift-but a good one.”

“If I can. What is it ?”

“You can do it, but it will take a bit of backbone.”

“Let’s hear it.”

“I want you to come to Confession and Communion with me. How about it ?”

A moment’s pause, while Francesco tried to think, and then “All right, if it will make you happy, Mickey.” It was a fine catch, and Mickey was careful not to lose it. He prepared his friend for Confession, and together they approached the altar on the morning of St. Michae 1‘s. Later Mickey told him, “Thanks ever so much, Francesco. You have given me the best gift possible.”

“Let me thank you,” was the earnest reply. “I understand things better now.”

“That’s fine, Francesco. Now why don’t you keep yourself on the right track ? You’ll be all the happier for it. Take your duties more seriously, and don’t make Don Bosco worry over you because he wants you to turn out a success in life.”

Francesco took his hand. “It’s a bargain, Mickey I promise!”

That night Mickey felt great as he pushed into his sheets. He had done something big for God and Don Bosco

CHAPTER VII- A WILL. . . . AND A WAY!

Mickey was not the politest lad on earth, because the streets of Carmagnola had not required the etiquette of a young gentleman, although it is to his credit that he tried to follow the gentler ways of city life. But sometimes Mickey lost his polish and slipped back into the ways of the streets, especially when instinct told him that gentle manners would not go far. One time, for example, as Don Bosco tells, Mickey heard a school fellow talking about things good boys don’t like to mention. He edged up to the guilty party, put his fingers to his lips, whistled with all his might into his ear. Years of gang leadership had developed the art. “Hey, what’s got into your head, you fool ?” was the angry retort. “Where are your manners?”

“Where are yours ?” Mickey corrected. “If you are unmannerly as to talk about such filthy things, I don’t see how I”m more unmannerly than you.” Blushes rose to the listeners faces as they slipped away. Mickey’s lesson had sunk in.

“Another day,” writes Don Bosco, “as Mickey and I we nt through the streets of Turin, we heard a young worker burst out with blasphemy against the Holy Name. Before I knew what had happened, there was Mickey swinging at the culprit with all his might. The smart cuffs were returned in good measure because the worker was taller than Mickey. Blood flowed from lips and noses, until I could manage to pull them apart, and show Mickey that such corrections don’t go far. He realized his mistake, apologized, and promised not to forget himself another time.

PRACTICAL JOKER

Once Mickey approached a group of class mates who were talking-of all things-of the pains of hell. The miniature theologians were expounding its sufferings and torments, till one bravado’s boast seemed to stop their mouths. “Sure, we’ll try to keep out of hell. It’s not the best place to go to. But if we cannot keep out, well-too bad! Patience!” Mickey saw his chance. He slipped out while the conversation continued, borrowed a match, and, moving up to the boaster, lit it under his finger. “Ouch!” was the startled cry. “That hurts, you fool! Are you trying to burn me?”

“Oh no, not at all,” Mickey returned very politely. “I was just trying out your patience. But I see you haven’t got very much. If you couldn’t stand this tiny speck of flame, how can you stand the fires of hell ?” A general laugh prevented ill feeling, but the brave hero had to admit, “Hell must be an awful place to go to !”

DONKEY SENSE

An old timer of Mickey’s Carmagnola gang had also found his way over the Alps into Turin, and was lodging in the city, apprenticed to a mason. As often as he could, he visited his former General to talk over past deeds of “heroism” like two war veterans. While talking, Mickey wisely managed to squeeze in a few words of religion.

“Oh, church!” laughed the apprentice. “What good is church? Why, I know a fellow who works with me who is big and husky and a fine fellow, and he never goes to church! And he’s as strong as an ox,”

Mickey laughed. “Come on, Pietro, let’s walk over to the gate.” he invited. There a workman was unloading a ton of bricks for a new building, while the donkey, appreciating the rest, was munching at the straw that littered the ground.

“Look, Pietro, see that donkey? He’s big and husky and strong and a wonderful animal. And he never went to Confession or stepped into a church! Is your friend anything like him?” A laugh from the man covered the boy’s confusion, but the joke went home, for Pietro never brought up such silly arguments to excuse himself from his obligations.

SEEING THROUGH IT

While Mickey was walking down the yard one day, a group of class mates strolled up to him and asked him to join their company. They were going out of the Oratory, they said, go to some distant church in the city for their Confessions.

“Sounds queer!” Mickey replied. “Have you no priest here to go to?”

“Sure, but we want to go to this priest today.”

Mickey smiled. “Got permission?”

“We don’t need permission for this!”

“Well, you can go by yourselves. I don’t care to go that far for my Confession. I”ve got a confessor right here, and he’s the one I always go to, for big sins and for small ones. If you fellows have to go to some stranger, you must feel pretty scared to goto our own priests, and that means you’ve done something you don’t like to admit. So go right ahead. Besides, I don’t like to sneak off without telling Don Bosco. It’s not right. And, if I were you, I”d stay in the Oratory and go to some of the priests who come to help Don Bosco.” That ended the discussion.

DODGING THE OCCASION

From the time that Mickey left Carmagnola to go to the Oratory, he returned home only once, for a few days, and then Don Bosco himself had to force him to go. It wasn’t that he didn’t like to go home. Just the opposite. He dearly loved his mother and family, plus his many admirers. When asked why he preferred staying in Turin, he only smiled in return and said he was having too good a time to leave. But one confidant got the real answer. “There are too many occasions of sin at home. The old hangouts and friends and long-buried remembrances soon come back and are too strong for me.”

“In that case, all you have to do is follow out Don Bosco’s suggestions,” his friend objected. “A littl e good will, and everything is fixed up.”

“Good will is like a fog. It hangs around for a while, then it melts into thin air. I try to follow out Don Bosco’s advice but a day or two with the old bunch makes me forget everything.”

“So nobody should go home, then?”

“Why not ? If they can keep from sin, let them go. But I”m too weak, so I”d rather stay here with Don Bosco. I keep out of mischief, I have a nice time, and I know I”m not in danger.”

CHAPTER VIII- STRANGE HAPPENINGS

Don Bosco appreciated the virtue he saw in Mickey, and was pleased to watch the former rough-neck taking giant strides with characteristic energy in the path of Christian virtue. Since he did not care to go home, the good priest thought he would take him along for a week’s rest with a group of better behaved students to the country home of a benefactor of his. So, all packed up, the jolly group trooped along with Don Bosco through the city into the surrounding countryside, heading for the hills that promised health, rest, and loads of fun. But their good humour suffered a bit of dampening when huge black clouds darkened the sky and soon burst open over their heads in torrents of rain. Like soaked puppies they continued along the road, trying to sing away their discomfort as Don Bosco had always taught them to do. “Rain or shine, smile your way through!” was the Oratory’s motto. So they laughed off the rain.

A few hours” drenching brought them to a small town where Don Bosco had friends. One of them immediately took them in, had them dry their clothes, and provided a warm meal and entertainment. Then, after hearty “Thank You’s,” the group marched out again into the glorious sunshine that had succeeded the rain, and tramped along the muddy road. Steadily they kept their pace, jumping over puddles, hopping over flooded ditches, singing, whistling, and exchanging jokes with Don Bosco. Then, as they became more tired, and the shouts died down, the priest noticed that Mickey had fallen back of the party and was trailing behind. He was walking slowly, his head bent, one hand in his pocket. Don Bosco whispered to the boy next to him, “Find out if Mickey is sick.” The lad dropped out, and, when Mickey caught up with him, asked him, what was wrong. “Oh, nothing!” was the answer. “I”m not sick. I was just saying my rosary for the nice gentleman that cared for us. He deserves it!”

AMID THE FUN

The week spent by the youngsters at the generous benefactor’s home was a happy one, and they made the most of it. Hiking, fishing, scouting, games of all sorts in the fields and woods formed their daily schedule, while Don Bosco proved an admirable entertainer. It was on one of these nutting expeditions that Don Bosco came to realize how deeply Mickey’s piety had already sunk its roots. As the boys climbed trees and shook their laden branches and piled up heaps of nuts, they noticed that Mickey had disappeared. On their return to the villa, they found him quietly praying in the chapel.

“Um,” remarked one, “you don’t have to be that pious, do you ? We always pray when it’s time to.” “I know it,” was Mickey’s unashamed response. “So do I. But today I had enough fun, and I knew you wouldn’t miss me if I slipped away to pray while you were busy in the wood. Besides,” he added, half turning away, “you don’t need prayer as much as I do.” Later he confided to Don Bosco, “I”m so afraid of falling back into my sinful habits. I”ve got to pray for strength. I wasn’t doing anything wrong by leaving the group, was I?” Don Bosco’s hand went to the lad’s forehead “No, Mickey, you did all right.”

“One evening,” the Saint tells us, “while all the boys had gone to rest in the attic, I stepped outside to get a breath of fresh air. Walking along the pathway, I heard a sob at the corner of the house. I hurried over, and there was Mickey looking up into the sky and crying.

“What’s wrong, my son ?” I enquired.

“Mickey looked up at me through tearful eyes and sobbed.

“Nothing. I”m all right. Only . . . I”

“You can’t be,” I remarked. “Tell me. We are alone.”

“I was looking at the moon, Father. See how it comes up every night, perfectly obedient to the laws of God. All the earth obeys God. But I . . . I have to break His law and sin. How bad I am!”

My thoughts brought me back many years to the time my mother would take me out into the starry night and show me the glories that bespeak the power of God. I cheered him up with a word or two, and as he went up to bed I marvelled to see how soon Mickey hadreached the level of some of God’s heroic boy saints. Fourteen years old, yet he had the solid thoughts that few learned men can ever think.”

CHAPTER IX- THE LONG FINGER OF DEATH

Generally no one knows or even suspects his last hour, and we are all the better for it. It might be too great a shock to learn precisely when we have to leave this life and face the Judge. Yet, it is hard to explain, some people get a feeling—a sort of foresight-that death is not far off. That is what happened to Mickey. Several incidents, apparently mere accidents, warned him to get ready. Without his knowing it, December, 1858, was to be the last December he would see.

The Novena to the Immaculate Conception, always an A-1 feast celebrated with the greatest possible festivity in Don Bosco’s schools, was a grand event in Mickey’s last three months of life. He prayed earnestly to his Immaculate Queen, to whom he had long since consecrated himself, and resolved to make it the best novena to the Blessed Virgin he had ever made.

“I promise to tear my heart from all earthly pleasures,” he wrote on a slip he kept in his prayer book. “Then I will make a general Confession to prepare for death. Every day I will put aside my breakfast or recite the Seven Joys of Mary to merit her intercession at my last hour, and once a day I will tell my companions some story about Mary.”

Did he actually see into the future? Don Bosco made him omit the general Confession, since he did not need it, and told him not to skip his breakfast but to substitute a prayer for the Poor Souls instead. Throughout the novena he was very jolly, undisputedly holding the title of “General.” When, shortly after, the novena for Christmas came along, Mickey spent it with the same enthusiasm and cheerfulness.

Then another little event pointed to death. All the boys of the Oratory knew of Don Bosco’s extraordinary sanctity. They would have to be blind not to see it. He clearly foresaw the future; he could read their minds; in Confession he could tell them their sins, and-surprisingly enough—he could foretell which boys were to die at the Oratory. On this particular night-it was December 31, 1858-he warned all to be ready, for someone, he said, would have to go to the Eternal Judge before the new year was a month old. Mickeylooked up at the priest, “I understand, Father, I”m next. I”11 get ready.” Those near him laughed at his simplicity, but Mickey did not. After that he did not slump into gloomy fearfulness, but he was decidedly more thoughtful.

It was at a meeting of the Blessed Sacrament Sodality, of which Mickey was a member, that another warning came to him. The sodalists used to draw out a slip of paper, on which was written a spiritual word or two as a good thought for the month. When Mickey opened his, he read, “At the Judgment Seat, I will be with God . . . alone!”

“Look,” he told those near him, “I guess there is no way out of it. I”m to go soon!”

He ran to Don Bosco with the slip. The holy priest patted him on the head.

“Don’t be afraid, Mickey. It may have been a mere accident. Besides, we must all be ready to die at any time. The slip applies to me as well as to you.

“Yes, but . . .” he stammered. Then in a firmer tone he asked, “Tell me, Father, how much longer shall I live?” “As long as God wants, Mickey.”

“But will I see the end of this year?” he begged, half bursting into sobs.

“Why are you crying, Mickey? Buck up! Our life is in God’s hands, and He is a loving Father. He doesn’t want us to grieve ! Of course, you’ve got to be ready- we must all be ready, forthat matter. But you don’t have to know the hour of your death in order to go to Heaven!”

The boy jumped to a quick conclusion. “Then I am to die very soon, because you won’t tell me!”

“I don’t know, Mickey! But even if you were, would you be afraid to go to the Queen of Heaven?”

There was a slight pause as Mickey brushed away his tears. The brave response came slowly through half-strained sobs: “You are right, Don Bosco! No, I”m not afraid of going to the Blessed Virgin!”

CHAPTER X- BEGINNING OF THE END

Mickey was not one to get sick easily. Though not very tall and not particularly muscular in build, he managed to keep fit by plenty of exercise and healthy sport. His dashing and running and constant good humour kept his body trim and mind clear. Hence it was that Don Bosco was surprised to see him one morning leaning over the top of the stairs, looking at the game. It was not like Mickey to play spectator.

“Sick?” the priest asked.

“A little, Father. My stomach aches, but it’s not much I”ve had it before. I”11 be all right in a day or two.” Don Bosco took no chances. He sent him to bed and summoned the doctor. “No danger!” was the reassuring answer. “Just see to it he gets this prescription applied, and he’ll be out of bed tomorrow.”

Mrs. Magone, who had come to Turin for a few days, went to say hello to her son and, learning of his illness, remarked to Don Bosco, “It’s nothing serious, Father. He has had the same trouble before. He’ll be himself in a day or two.”

The doctor proved correct, for the next morning, Thursday, January 20, Mickey arose and went down to Mass with the other boys. He felt better, he said, but he found it hard to breathe, so after services he went up to the infirmary. During the day he was the jolly General Mickey of old, fooling and joking over his “tummy ache.” But the next morning Don Bosco kept him in bed. The “tummy ache” had taken a turn for the worse. The physician, after a hasty examination, shook his head and muttered, “It looks bad, Father. It is not a simple stomach ache.” As the morning wore off, Mickey found it hard to breathe. Soon a harsh cough set in, causing the youngster a good deal of pain. Then, to make matters worse, he began to spit blood.

His mother was called, and, noting the evident danger, asked him with genuin e Christian motherliness, “Wouldn’t you like to make your Confession, Mickey?”

“Sure, Mama,” was the undisturbed answer. “I made it just yesterday, but I”11 make it again.”

Don Bosco heard his Confession and then asked, “Well, Mickey, here’s a proposition for you. Would you rather get better or go to Heaven?”

“God knows what is best. I”11 take what He wants.”

“Supposing He left the choice with you?”

“Oh, who would be foolish enough not to take Heaven?”

“Would you really like to go to Heaven, Mickey ?”

“Sure, I”ve always prayed so hard for it!”

“When do you want to go?”

“Any time God says.”

“Fine, Mickey! God’s Will be done. Say it often.”

After another careful medical examination the doctor turned to the priest and whispered. “It’s a haemorrhage. I”m afraid the boy is through with medicines”

As the hours slowly trickled by, Mickey sank lower and lower. It would not be long now-a few hours, perhaps.

“Don Bosco!” came his hoarse whisper.

“Yes, my son, here I am.”

“I want to receive Holy Communion. May I?”

“Surely, Mickey, right away.” And he left the room to return shortly afterwards with the Blessed Sacrament, accompanied by a group of Mickey’s teachers and admirers. The patient quietly received Jesus into his heart, as he had so often done, and prayed with evident fervour. Then he called Don Bosco and asked him to get his companions to pray for him, that Jesus might soon take him to Heaven. After a brief moment of silence, everyone retired, and, as Don Bosco rose to go, he was stopped by a cry from the dying lad.

“Please, Don Bosco, don’t go. I don’t want to die without you. Please !”

The priest quieted him with a reassuring smile. “I”11 be right back, Mickey. I”m only going to my room to say a bit of my breviary. I will hardly be gone a few minutes.”

“All right, Father. Go and pray for me!” Then, as his Director put his hand on the door knob, he called him back. With a smile playing on his lips, and his eyes sparkling with fun, he looked very much like the dashing, energetic Mickey of the past. “Father,” he said, forcing a harsh whisper, “do you remember what that slip of paper that I showed you said ?”

“At the Judgment Seat I will be with God alone!”

“Well, it’s not true. I won’t be alone. My Queen will be with me.”

CHAPTER XI- THE END

“I left the sick room,” Don Bosco tells us, “and asked a priest and a seminarian to remain with Mickey, with orders to call me at the least sign of the end. I had hardly entered my room and taken up my breviary, when a hasty knock summoned me to the lad’s side. There he lay, his face marked with the first fatal signs of death, ashy white, his lips purpling, his eyes glazed with the glowing brightness of death. The priest by him administered Extreme Unction. Mickey, surprisingly enough still fully conscious, followed the whole ceremony and joined in the prayers of the Sacrament. Not a tear, not a groan, just a deep, heavy rasping sound as his sunken chest heaved for breath and a calm, almost angelic look of patient resignation. As the priest touched his lips with the consecrated oil, Mickey prayed

“Lord, had you only paralysed this tongue of mine, I would never have sinned so often in speech!” At the anointing of the hands he sadly added, “How many of my school mates have these hands badly beaten! I”m sorry, Jesus, forgive me!”

After all was over, I asked him, “wouldn’t you like me to call mother?”

“No, Father, it’s better not to. She would feel it very much to see me like this. She loves me so much.” Then added, “Dear Mama! She is so good! How sorry I am if I have ever given her trouble! God bless her goodness!” I quieted his rising feelings and urged him to pray while I gave him the Papal Blessing with the plenary indulgence. He bowed his head and recited the act of contrition with such manifest sorrow that he moved us all to tears. Then, as my hand was raised over him in benediction, he made the sign of the cross and gently sank back upon his pillow.

““Sleep,” I urged him. “We are all by you and praying for you. Rest a bit.”

“At ten -fifteen, he opened his eyes; they were shining brilliantly, but with the glaze of death. His parched lips parted, “Help me, Father!”

“Here I am Mickey! Don’t be afraid. Before you depart for Heaven, won’t you leave a farewell message for your mother?”

““Yes. Tell her I”m sorry for all the trouble I gave her. Tell her I love her very much. She mustn’t cry, because I”m only leaving her for a little while. I”11 wait for her in Heaven!”

“And how about your school fellows? What shall I tell them?”

“Tell them always to make good Confessions!” was the decidedly firm recommendation.

““Mickey, my boy, tell me, what gives you the greatest comfort now at the hour of death?” Slowly, he made this answer.

““The remembrance that I have done something, even a little bit, to honour Our Blessed Mother! How happy she makes me in my last moments!” After a slight pause, he asked, “Father, what shall I do when my soul is separated from my body, and I find myself in eternity?”

“ Let the Blessed Mother take care of you,” I answered. “And when you see her, do me a favour. Ask her to bless this house, your companions, your superiors, and beg her to see to it that no one who lives here may lose his soul.”

“His eyes closed slowly, and his golden little head sank deeper into his pillow, while his breath came more painfully and harshly. As I started the last prayer for the dying, he suddenly opened his eyes, his purple lips parted in his usual broad smile, and he gasped, “In a moment I will carry out your request, Father. Tell my companions I will be waiting for them in Heaven! Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, I give you my heart and my soul! A last smile, and then gently, without the least groan or cry, he sank back in death. It was January 21, 1859, eleven o‘clock.

“Mickey was scarcely fourteen years old. I would not call Mickey’s departure a death; it was a happy slumbering that bore his soul into the bliss of eternal life.”

CHAPTER XII- WE MISS YOU, MICKEY

It was a sorry bunch of boys that knelt before the altar next morning; many tried to wipe away their tears, others unashamedly let them fall, while Don Bosco told them of the night’s occurrence. General Mickey, their own chummy Mickey, whom they had so grown to like, was gone! As their Director described the scene, each little mind saw Mickey gently reposing in the thought that the reward of his good deeds was at hand. They saw his peaceful smile- Mickey’s catchy smile; they heard him whisper his last recommendation “Always make good Confessions!” and many of them contrasted in a moment’s flash the tough gang leader before that one general Confession of his, with the lovable, chummy Mickey that had woven himself into the fibres of their hearts. Now he was gone!

School was out of the question. The boys sat at their desks, mechanically pulling out their books and thumbing through the pages. Father Francesia came in for Latin; for once he looked lost. His eyes fell on the empty seat that spoke so eloquently of its missing occupant. He could almost see the laughing, stocky figure of Mickey dancing before his bleary eyes. But the place was empty. Father looked at the boys and they at him, till one thin, unsteady voice broke the silence.

“He is dead!”

The next morning, the whole Oratory filed slowly out of the gate, four bigger boys bearing the black coffin that held the remains of their great hero. Passers-by made room for them, and marvelled to see how seriously adult tearstained boys can look. With rosaries in hand and a prayer on their lips, they reached the city cemetery, and made ready to lay Mickey in his final resting place. By the open grave wept Mrs. Magone. She keenly felt the blow of her son’s early departure. She had wished to see him possibly some day standing at God’s altar as His priest. When Don Bosco had given her Mickey’s last message and described the lad’s edifying death, she had resignedly sighed, “God’s Will be done. I loved you deeply, Mickey, and you were an excellent son to me. But it was better this way! You are with a more precious Mother now!”

The grave yawned gloomily before the weeping boys, and then closed its gaping mouth in receiving its youthful victim. A few hurriedly thrown shovelfuls of dirt on the lowered coffin, a soft, low prayer, and all left.

Prayers were multiplied unceasingly, yet-it was an unusual thing-many prayers were not for, but to Mickey. “General Mickey,” they prayed in their boyishly affectionate manner, we were always good friends. Now be a real friend in need to us, and take us with you to Heaven!”

That night, after slumber had closed the heavy eyes of his young charges, Don Bosco, alone in his room, opened an officiallooking ledger entitled “Pupils” Record” and, pen in hand, slowly thumbed through the leaves till he reached “Mickey Magone.” His index finger traced the numbered record of his birth, studies, marks, up to the last space, “dismissal.” The pen dipped into the ink and ran across the page, sadly closing the lad’s record for all time “Died at the Oratory on the night of January 21, 1859. A most promising lad. Deeply mourned by all. A model for all youth to imitate.”

The big book was closed, and as Don Bosco took up his breviary, his mind summed it all up in a flash. That rainy night at Carmagnola-Mickey’s boisterous tones-his coming to the Oratory-his energetic, reckless, dashing ways-that ugly period of stormy remorse-then the open-hearted Confession and the rebirth to a life of virtue-it all opened up before him like so many chapters of a book. Put together, they told the tale of a would-be gangster turned into a model of Catholic youth. Mickey, he muttered, the dynamic little Mickey, almost bursting with energy, the hero of the playground and classroom, the cherished hope of all who knew him! Mickey, who saw God in the purity of his soul and ran to meet Him. At last he had caught up with Him!

Mickey was finally Home, Home for good, resting in the arms of his Heavenly Mother.

The breviary fell open, and, as he made the sign of the cross upon his lips, he could almost see the chubby face of Mickey peering up at him through the pages, wreathed in an eternal smile, and telling him, “I’m safe at Home! Thank You, Don Bosco.”

Nihil Obstat:

P. JONES,

Censor Deputatus

Imprimatur

@ DANIEL MANNIX,

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis

**********

The Testimony of History For The Roman Catholic Church

ANNONYMOUS

INDEX

IF WE PAUSE TO SURVEY THE HISTORICAL OCCURRENCES FROM THE DAWN OF CHRISTIANITY, WE ARE STRUCK BY AN EVER PRESENT FACT. PERHAPS MANY MAY NOT DISCERN IT UNTIL ATTENTION IS FIXED OR DRAWN SPECIFICALLY TO IT, JUST AS WE MAY BE OBLIVIOUS OF MANY OF OUR MOST COMMONPLACE SURROUNDINGS UNTIL THEY ATTRACT OR ARE FORCED UPON OUR NOTICE; BUT THAT THE PAPACY HAS BEEN THE GREAT VISIBLE FACT THAT HAS ENDURED SINCE THE BIRTH OF CHRISTIANITY TO THE PRESENT DAY, IS A PROPOSITION THAT IT WOULD BE EXTREME RASHNESS TO DENY. ITS LIFE IS MEASURED BY THE LIFE OF CHRISTIANITY ITSELF. IT HAS SEEN NATIONS RISE AND FALL; IT HAS BEHELD CUSTOMS, IDEAS, AND CHARACTERS COME AND GO; IT HAS WITNESSED THE CEASELESS SPRINGING INTO BEING, CHANGES, DISINTEGRATIONS, AND ENDINGS IN THE WORLD AROUND IT, AND YET IT IS THE ONE POWER THAT HAS ENDURED WITHOUT CHANGE, IN SPITE OF TERRIBLE TRIALS AND EVEN, AT TIMES, VIOLENT OPPOSITION AND WILL FOR DESTRUCTION.

What is the Papacy? The Encyclopaedia Britannica describes it as “the name most commonly applied to the office and position of the Bishop of Rome, in respect both of the ecclesiastical and temporal authority claimed by him, i. e., as successor of St. Peter and Vicar of Christ over the Catholic Church, and as sovereign of the former Papal States.” The Catholic Encyclopaedia says: “This term is used in an ecclesiastical and in an historical signification. In the former of these uses it denotes the ecclesiastical system in which the Pope as successor of St. Peter and Vicar of Jesus Christ governs the Catholic Church, as its supreme head. In the latter, it signifies the papal influence viewed as a political force in history.”

Why should the Bishop of Rome have pre-eminence over all other ecclesiastics; and why should supremacy in spiritual affairs be accorded to him? The Scriptural authority for the claim of the Catholic Church is, of course, based upon Christ’s words to St. Peter found in the Gospels: “Blessed art thou Simon, Bar-Jona (son of John); because flesh and blood hath not revealed it to thee, but My Father Who is in heaven; and I say to thee: That thou art Peter (a rock); and upon this rock I will build My Church, and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it. And I will give to thee the keys of the kingdom of heaven. And whatsoever thou shalt bind upon earth, it shall be found also in heaven; and whatsoever thou shalt loose upon earth, it shall be loosed also in heaven.” Plain and clear these words certainly are, in spite of the controversy that rages about their meaning. Passing, however, the theological aspect, we find in the historical facts abundant evidence to support the claim of Peter’s supremacy.

The Church is supposed to have been established at Rome during the reign of the Emperor Claudius (A. D. 41–54) which would be perhaps four years after the death of Christ. Under the stress of controversy, it has been denied that St. Peter was ever in Rome, and, of course, the supremacy of the Roman bishops, has, likewise, been denied, it being claimed that their pre-eminence was due to accidental causes. Neither, however, will stand the scrutiny of history. As pointed out by Dr. Livius, the Roman Episcopate of St. Peter was never questioned, even by the heretics or schismatics, until the thirteenth century; indeed, until the Reformation, it was the universal persuasion of the Christian people that from his See the constitution and authority of the Church were derived, and it is a striking fact that none of the Eastern schismatics, who broke away from Rome in the early days, ever denied the Roman Episcopate of St. Peter, although it would prove one of the strongest justifications of their schism.

It is rather puerile to deny that St. Peter was ever in Rome, in view of the many fair-minded, scholarly, non-Catholic historians, like Cave, Grotius, Whiston, Lardner, Hales, Claudius, Mynster, Schaff, Neander, Stieger, Whitby, DeWette, Weisler, Credner, Pearson, Bleck, Meyer, Renan,” Hilgengeld and Mangold, who admit it. Whiston, the translator of Josephus, says: “That St. Peter was at Rome is so clear in Christian antiquity, that it is a shame for any Protestant to confess that any Protestant ever denied it.” Dr. Lardner says: “It is the general uncontradicted, disinterested testimony of ancient writers in the several parts of the world-Greeks, Latins, Syrians.” Without further citations it may be said that it is now generally admitted that St. Peter visited Rome and suffered martyrdom there.

Some historians, however, while admitting that he taught and died in Rome, deny that he was ever its bishop, asserting that the Episcopate of St. Peter is a novelty dating from the early part of the third century, and supplanting the older tradition that Peter and Paul were co-founders of the Roman Church and Linus was its first bishop. It is said that St. Peter’s labors were carried on in a spirit of rivalry, not to say antagonism, to those of St. Paul, being bestowed on a Judaizing Church, while those of his fellow Apostle were devoted to the Gentile community. The Roman episcopacy of St. Peter is, however, historically certain. Dr. Lardner and many other non-Catholic historians admit it. In A. D. 160, St. Hegessippus compiled a succession of Bishops of Rome to the time of Anicetus, which contained the name of St. Peter as the first. About 178, St. Irenaeus speaks of Hyginus as the ninth bishop of Rome, an enumeration that must have included St. Peter as the first, because if Linus was the first, Hyginus would be the eighth instead of the ninth.” In 190 we find Clement of Alexandria stating that Peter had proclaimed the Word, publicly at Rome. In the same year Tertullian states that the Church of the Romans recounts that Clement was ordained by Peter. A poem, “Adverse Marcionem,” written about this time, speaks of Linus being the first “whom Peter bade to take his place and sit upon this chair in mightiest Rome where he himself had sat.” In 214, Caius calls Pope Victor the thirteenth bishop of Rome from Peter. In 225, St. Hippolytus counts Peter as the first bishop of Rome. In 250, St. Cyprian relates that Cornelius (the twenty-first Roman bishop) was chosen bishop “and mounted the lofty summit of the Priesthood the place of Fabian (the twentieth Roman bishop), that is when the place of Peter and the rank of the Sacerdotal chair, was vacant.” In 257, Fermillian, writing hostilely, and who would have denied it if he could, states that Stephen I. “contends that he holds the succession of Peter,” and that he “who proclaims that he occupies by succession the Chair of Peter, is moved by no zeal against heretics.”

So, by the middle of the third century, the Roman Episcopate of St. Peter was admitted by those best qualified to know, not only in Rome, but in the Churches of Africa and Asia Minor as well.

As to the supremacy of the Roman bishops being due to accidental causes, the claims of historians advocating this theory may be summarized in the views set forth by Ranke in his History of the Popes. He says: “The pretense that the Roman bishops, whose supremacy was acknowledged in the East and West, existed in the first centuries of the Church is utterly groundless; but it is unquestionable that they soon acquired a consideration that raised them above all other ecclesiastical authorities. Many things contributed to secure this for them.” He then enumerates a number of so-called causes, such as Rome being “one of the most eminent Apostolic seats”; as “the ancient capital of that vast empire to which it had given its name,” and as being favored by the Roman Emperor “who found it expedient to favor the rise of the great patriarchal authority.” Perhaps the centralization of authority in the bishops of Rome was not, in the first two or three centuries, as obvious and well developed as it is today, but that it always existed, there can be no doubt. It is no answer to this claim of supremacy to say that at its birth it was not mature; that its growth and development contributed to its vigor and power, and solidly intrenched it as an institution. The same may be said of any social organism, only in a much greater degree, for in no social institution known to man, was the evidence of centralization of power, at its beginnings, so pronounced and unmistakable as was the case of the Roman Episcopate of St. Peter. It may be, as Cardinal Newman suggests, that “there was from the first a certain element at work, or in existence, divinely sanctioned, which, for certain reasons, did not at once show itself on the surface of ecclesiastical affairs, and of which the events of the fourth century are the development, and that the evidence of its existence and operation in the earlier centuries, be it much or little, is just such as ought to occur.” It is a fact that the supremacy of the Roman episcopate was acknowledged by the Eastern Churches until after the middle of the ninth century, and by Western and Central Europe until the beginning of the sixteenth. If in the early centuries the evidence of its affirmation is not as overwhelming as in later centuries, the significant fact remains that it was never denied, and from its universal recognition at a very early date thereafter, the inference that it existed is, not only reasonable, but compelling. However, unmistakable evidence of the supremacy of the jurisdiction of the Roman bishops in the early centuries of the Church exists and is historically established.

In the four Gospels, Peter is always named first and Judas last in the lists of the Apostles, while the names of the others, for the most part, vary in their order. St. Matthew expressly calls him the first, i. e., the primate or chief one. In the Acts he is given preeminence, e.g., “Peter standing up with the eleven” ;”They said to Peter and the rest of the Apostles”; “Peter and the Apostles answering, said, etc.”

Peter’s exercise of supreme ecclesiastical jurisdiction appears even before he came to Rome. He presided at the Assembly of the Apostles that chose a successor to Judas; he determined the course of the Council of Jerusalem. Concerning this Council, we read: “And when there had been much disputing, Peter, rising, said to them: “Men and brethren, you know that in former days God made choice among us that by my mouth, the Gentiles should hear the word of the Gospel and believe.” “

The claim of ecclesiastical authority is asserted by St. Peter’s immediate successors. In less than thirty years after his death (about A. D. 92) we find St. Clement, the fourth bishop of Rome, writing to the far-off Corinthians, over the head of the Apostle St. John, who was still alive, on the subject of their sedition against their priests, claiming their obedience of “things written by us through the Holy Spirit,” and requiring them “who laid the first foundation of this schism” to “submit themselves unto their priests and be instructed unto repentance,” and warning them that “if any disobey the words spoken by God through us, let them know they will entangle themselves in transgression and no small danger.” In 107, St. Ignatius of the Eastern Church, and St. Peter’s successor to the See of Antioch, addresses the Roman Church as the one “which Presides in the place of the country of the Romans and Presiding in the covenant of Love.” In 178, St. Irenaeus, a person who stands in the closest relation with the age of the Apostles, writes that with the Church of Rome, on account of her more powerful Headship, it is necessary that every Church, i.e., the faithful everywhere dispersed-should agree “or be in communion.” In 190, St. Victor, the fourteenth Roman bishop, threatens to excommunicate the Asiatic Churches “from the common unity” unless they conform to the Roman usage in the observance of Easter. In 195, Tertullian, a hostile critic, mentions the claim of Pope Callistus to forgive sins as the successor of Peter. In 248, St. Cyprian, who teaches plainly that there is one Church founded on Peter for the origin and purpose of unity, calls the Roman Church, in which is the See or Chair of Peter, the “Chief or Ruling Church, whence the unity of the Priesthood has its source.” In 254, as we have seen, Fermillian, writing in a hostile spirit against Pope Stephen I., states that he claims the power to decide a controversy regarding rebaptism, as the successor of St. Peter.

In the fourth, fifth, and sixth centuries, the evidence increases and becomes more emphatic and distinct. To cite but a very few instances: In 342, the Council ofSardica speaks of the head of the Church as the “See of the Apostle Peter.” In 416, the Council of Carthage petitions Pope Innocent to seal their statutes .with the authority of the Holy See. In the same year the Council of Milevis petitions the Pope to apply his pastoral diligence to the great dangers, because those who hold pernicious principles “will more easily yield to the authority of His Holiness, derived as it is from the authority of the Holy Scriptures.” In 533, the Code of Justinian recites that “we do not allow any point, however manifest and indisputable it be, which relates to the Churches, not being brought to the cognizance of your Holiness, since you are the head of all the holy Churches.” Popes Innocent in 416, Zosimus in 418, Boniface in 419, Leo the Great in 450, Gelasius in 492, and Gregory the Great in 604 plainly affirm the supremacy of the See of Rome, declaring as Innocent that it is the head and summit of the episcopate; as Zosimus that no one should dare dispute about a judgment given by it; as Boniface that never was it lawful to discuss any matter that was once decided by the Apostolic See; that this See stands in relation to the Churches spread over the world, as the Head to its own members; as Leo the Great, that the See of the Blessed Peter was made head of the Universe; the first of all Sees, the Head, that See which the Lord appointed to preside over the rest; as Gelasius, that the Roman See judged the whole world and that itself passed under the judgment of none; and as Gregory the Great, that the Church of Constantinople is subject to the Apostolic See, as the Apostolic See is the head of all the Churches.

What is offered to contradict or overthrow this over whelming mass of historical evidence? For the most part it is conjecture and speculation, or inference drawn from distorted facts. The arguments of a single historian are typical and illustrative. J. Bass Mullinger, in the ninth edition of the Encyclopaedia Britannica, puts the case as strongly as it can be put for those holding the opposite view. He states that the question of whether or not St. Peter was designed for preeminence among the Apostles, resolves itself into one of New Testament criticism, but that from the time of Origen, who visited Rome early in the third century, there has always been a certain section in the Church who have distinctly repudiated the affirmative assumption. “For,” he continues, ““if,” says Origen, “you say the Church was built upon Peter alone, what will you say of John, the son of thunder,and each of the other Apostles””; that the labours of Peter and Paul were carried on in a spirit of rivalry, not to say antagonism, those of Peter being devoted to the Judaizing Church, which attaching itself to the Church of Jerusalem, became a depositary of Jewish-Christian, rather than of Pauline tradition; and that from the fact that Hippolytus, the bishop of Portus, criticized the administrations of Popes Zephyrinus and Callistus, it is evident that the authority wielded by the Roman Bishops, even in their own diocese, was far from meeting with unquestioned obedience.

It is not meant to give the impression that there were no schisms or revolts against the Papal authority in the early ages of the Church, but these were comparatively few and insignificant and merely serve to emphasize the existence of the seat of power. However, the choice of Origen to illustrate this is particularly unfortunate, for Origen expressly refers to Peter as the great foundation of the Church and the most solid rock upon which Christ founded the Church; upon whom the Church of Christ is built; upon him, as on earth, the Church was founded, and states that there may be discovered “much difference and preeminence in the words spoken to Peter,” that the other Apostles “do not transcend in power as Peter.” The words in the ninth edition of the Britannica constitute an isolated expression which is taken apart from its text and, as very often happens in such a case, is misleading. When the whole passage is read, a very different meaning will be perceived. It will then be seen that Origen was writing, not to dispute Peter’s claim, but to encourage emulation of his faith. He says: “But if we have also said, as Peter, “Thou art the Christ, the Son of the Living God,” not as being revealed to us by “flesh and blood,” but because the light has shone upon our hearts from the “Father in Heaven,” we become Peter, then may be said to us by the Word “Thou art Peter” and the rest. For every disciple of Christ is “a rock.” But if thou thinkest, that on Peter alone the whole Church is built, what wilt thou say concerning John, that son of thunder, or of each one of the Apostles?”

The remaining contentions are the alleged rivalry between SS. Peter and Paul and the criticism of St. Hippolytus of Popes Zephyrinus and Callistus, the former probably being based on St. Paul’s rebuke to St. Peter in his Epistle to the Galatians, “I withstood him to the face.” Rebukes or criticism cannot logically be brought forward as an argument against supremacy, unless it be established that is always unlawful for an inferior to criticize a superior. Such is not the teaching of Christianity. There are daily instances of criticism of high officials and yet their authority is never questioned. Likewise, many holy men and women, as St. Bernard, St. Thomas of Canterbury, and St. Catharine of Siena, have rebuked Popes while fully acknowledging their authority. The contention of rivalry between SS. Peter and Paul contradicts the popular non-Catholic argument that the Episcopacy of St. Peter is a novelty dating from the early part of the third century and supplanting the older tradition that Peter and Paul were co-founders of the Roman Church. The truth is, that the denial of St. Peter’s episcopal supremacy is a novelty dating from the sixteenth century as far as Western and Central Europe are concerned, as all impartial historians admit. In the labored efforts to explain away the great visible fact many arguments of the card-castle variety have been built, which tumble at the first touch of the inquisitive finger.

The evidence of the supremacy of the Roman See further increases when we come to a consideration of the first great schism-the schism of the Eastern Church-for we perceive, at the outset, a denial of an authority which had been affirmed. In the discussion of this dissension it is important to note the peculiarity of the Oriental mind which can only give expression to its beliefs in ritualistic ceremonies. The more politic of the Popes were content if unity of faith and belief existed, and did not insist upon unity of liturgy and customs. They were accordingly satisfied to impose as conditions of communion with Rome merely the acceptance of dogmas, permitting the Eastern Church to follow its own rituals and customs. There were indeed differences of customs and manners between the Churches of the East and West. On this account, as well as on account of the remoteness of the East from the center of Rome, the Popes, perhaps, did not exercise that direct authority they exercised over the nearby and contiguous Western States; but that the Eastern patriarchs and bishops were subject to their ecclesiastical jurisdiction, history affirms beyond all peradventure of a doubt.

The cause of this schism was not religious. On the feast of the Epiphany in 857, Bardas, the regent for the infant emperor Michael, was publicly refused Holy Communion by Ignatius, the. Patriarch of Constantinople, because he was living in incest with his daughter-in-law, Eudicia. For this Ignatius was deposed and banished, and the more pliant Photius intruded into his place. Photius was hurried through Holy Orders in six days and ordained Patriarch by the excommunicated Bishop Gregory Asbedas of Syracuse. Both the regent and Photius sent messages to Pope Nicholas I., which specifically acknowledged the Roman primacy and categorically invoked the Pope’s jurisdiction to confirm what had happened. Meanwhile Ignatius from exile managed to send an urgent letter to the Pope setting forth his case. The Pope, having heard both sides, decided in favor of Ignatius and answered the letters of the regent and Photius by insisting that Ignatius be restored and that usurpation of the See cease. Instead of obeying the authority he had affirmed, and to which he had appealed, Photius resolved to deny it altogether. In 867 he purported to excommunicate the Pope because (1) the Latins fast on Saturdays, (2) do not begin Lent until Ash Wednesday instead of three days earlier, as in the East, (3) do not allow priests to be married, (4) do not allow priests to administer confirmation, and (5) have added the filioque to the creed. The same year, a revolution having occurred, Basil became emperor and Photius fell and was banished. The Pope then sent legates for a synod, which tried and deposed Photius and restored Ignatius. Photius, however, was afterwards recalled from banishment and managed to ingratiate himself with the emperor and the people, with the result that when Ignatius died a strong party, a very large part of which he built up during his exile, demanded Photius as the successor. Pope John VIII. agreed, absolved him from all censures and confirmed him as Patriarch. Photius then persuaded the Pope to send legates for another synod, which he dominated throughout and caused to revoke all the acts of the former synod and to repeat all his former accusations, dwelling specially on the filioque grievance. The Pope’s legates, being heavily bribed, agreed to everything that the majority, dominated and controlled by Photius, desired. Photius sent them back to the Pope with the acts for his confirmation. Instead the Pope naturally excommunicated him. So the schism broke out again. Seven years later the emperor Basil died and was succeeded by Leo VI., who strongly disliked Photius and banished him. He attempted to make his younger brother Stephen the Patriarch, but the Pope refused to recognize him. It was only under Anthony II. that a synod was held which restored reunion for a century and a half, lasting until the time of Michael Caerularius (1043–1058). But Photius had left a strong antiRoman party, eager to repudiate the Pope’s authority, and ready for another schism. It was this party, to which Caerularius belonged, that triumphed at Constantinople under him, so that Photius is rightly considered the author of the schism which still lasts. This schism occurred in 1048. There is no explanation for it except that Caerularius belonged to the strong anti-Latin party that waited for a chance to renew the quarrel with Rome. The old accusations were again repeated: the fast on Saturday, the celibacy of the clergy and the use of un leavened bread for communion being especially complained of. Finally Caerularius declined to hold communication with legates sent by the Pope and was excommunicated. Although the Greek-Russian Church does not today recognize the supremacy of St. Peter and his successors, and does not admit that Christ left a Vicar on earth, nevertheless her present attitude is in striking contrast to her liturgy. Her liturgical books contain such expressions as: “Thou, O Peter, wert the first bishop of Rome.” “Having chose thee first, O Peter, Christ crowned thee as Foundation of the Faith.” “Let us celebrate the Supreme and First of the Apostles . . . Peter.”

And as a further evidence of the former acknowledgment of the supremacy of the Roman episcopate by the Eastern Church, we find today a portion of it in communion with Rome. With different customs, manners and liturgy, as of old, it still, as of old, agrees with the Roman Church in dogma and acknowledges the Pope as the head of the Christian Church.

It is unnecessary to discuss the great Western schism of 1378 to 1417, except to mention it as a further striking evidence of Papal supremacy. This was not a schism in the ordinary sense of the word, for there was no withdrawal of obedience from one who was known to legitimately possess ecclesiastical supremacy. The dispute concerned persons only. All acknowledged the supremacy of the Pope, but there were three claimants to the office. Since there was a universal readiness to acknowledge the authority of the legitimate Pope if it could only be ascertained which claimant had the lawful succession, we have a strong affirmation of the existence of the Papal power. While it seems that Urban VI. and his successors were the legitimate Popes, all doubts as to the Papal succession was set at rest by the election of Martin V., the choice of the Council of Constance.

In the course of its growth and development, the Church attained a tremendous political importance. It was not only a religious body, like the present day Church, but also a vast political organization, with its own laws, courts and officials, and in this respect it was a constant source of friction and irritation to temporal kings and governments, who many times complained of the Church’s encroachment upon their powers. The Church possessed many valuable lands and estates which were generally exempt from taxation. Its courts tried its officers and in certain cases it claimed the right to try every one. It had its own independent income and was not only independent of any government, but often claimed the right to determine the political conduct of temporal princes. In the earlier ages, when feudalism was rampant, and the ideas of patriotism and duties owed to and by a national government, existed very imperfectly and obscurely, if at all, this great Ecclesiastical State was quite necessary. The peoples were then subject to various feudal lords, who, in turn, bound themselves in a sort of a loose confederation to their various kings, but strong central governments, in the sense we know them today, did not exist, and patriotism was almost an unknown word. The Church then served as the great power that protected the weak from the mighty; that compelled the powerful feudal lords to respect, in some degree, the rights of their subjects, and that constituted the one unifying force between all the Christian people, great and small. Gradually, however, the temporal powers, themselves, repressed feudalism, and as governments became more centralized and able to afford protection, the necessity of the Church’s political agencies ceased and only served to antagonize the secular governments, which had become zealous of their political rights and prerogatives.

At the beginning of the sixteenth century all Western and Central Europe was Catholic, acknowledging the Pope of Rome as the spiritual head. We have traced this power from the dawn of Christianity and have watched it unfold as it came down the ages to us. The great Eastern revolt against it, at first acknowledged its existence and appealed to it to confirm its acts. The dissension of the Greek Church left Western unity unimpaired. A noted historian observes: “Why did this great institution exist? Why was it loved, venerated and well served? The purpose of the Church, according to its own teaching, was to follow the instructions of its Divine Master, Jesus Christ, in saving souls. Only the Church might interpret those instructions; the Church alone might apply the means of salvation. . . . The salvation of souls for eternity was thus the supreme business of the Church. This salvation of souls involved a theology and a sacramental system. The very center of Catholic theology was the sacramental system, for that was the means, and essentially the only means of saving souls. It was, therefore, for the purpose of the sacramental system that the Church and its hierarchy existed. The sacraments were believed to have been instituted by Christ Himself, and were defined as outward signs instituted by Christ to give grace. The number generally accepted was seven: baptism, confirmation, holy eucharist, penance, extreme unction, holy orders and matrimony. By means of the sacraments the Church accompanied the faithful throughout life.

The holy eucharist was the sacrament of the Lord’s Supper, the consecration of bread and wine by the priest or bishop, its miraculous transformation (transubstantiation) at his word into the very Body and Blood of Christ, and its reception by the faithful. It was around the eucharist that the elaborate ritual and ceremonies of the Mass developed, that fine vestments and candles and incense and flowers were used, and that magnificent cathedrals were erected. . . . Of the seven sacraments it will be noted that . . . two-confirmation and holy orders-required the ministry of a bishop; and all others, except baptism and possibly matrimony, required the ministry of at least a priest. The priest was, therefore, the absolutely indispensable agent of the Church in the administration of the sacramental system. It was the priesthood that absolved penitents from their sins, wrought the great daily miracle of transubstantiation and offered to God the holy sacrifice of the Mass.”

This was the picture of the Church at the beginning of the sixteenth century. Then occurred that great change, commonly called the Reformation, that has marred and is still marring Christian unity, for the process of division is still continuing among the Protestant sects.

Now that the heat of the controversy has somewhat subsided and we can examine impartially into the cause, we discern, at the outset, that the religious element has been greatly overestimated. A well-known Protestant historian asserts: “The motives both remote and proximate which led to the Lutheran revolt, were largely secular, rather than religious. We may dismiss the religious charges incident to the Reformation with the remark that they were not the object sought, but the means for obtaining the object.”

The theory advancedby Buckle, in his History of Civilization that the “knowledge of men gradually advanced and made them indignant at superstition they formerly admired,” will find no support in history. The “superstitions” he points out are the “adoration” of saints and the “worship” of the Virgin, neither of which ever existed in fact, although both the Blessed Virgin and the saints have always been venerated and honored.

The argument that the spread and growth of the Protestant Reformation shows that it was divinely inspired will, likewise, not stand the scrutiny of an historical examination. That it received a very large popular following there can be no doubt, but the miracle is, not that it spread so extensively, but that it stopped. The development of the political powers of the Church doubtless had its undesirable elements. It had the effect of attracting many unworthy persons to the priesthood. The sons of powerful lords entered the religious life because that afforded them a luxurious living. The abbacy of a rich benefice was a decided attraction and a lure not easily ignored. There were also many worldly Popes, whose object was to secure political, rather than spiritual power, so that the result was many and grave abuses among the religious, who were actuated by worldly and not godly considerations. These abuses existed for centuries and the cry for reformation was not confined to the dissenters. Many faithful sons of the Church had protested loudly against them. Sir Thomas More, who gave his life for the faith, denounced them vigorously. They believed however, that the desired reforms could be obtained within the Church, and that it was both improper and needless to openly revolt against it. This general discontent with prevailing conditions needed but opportunity for general expression. All these contributed to pave the way for the great revolt that has proved so unfortunate for Christianity.

The great mass of the people were the poor and ignorant, who were the victims of much oppression by unworthy ecclesiastics. Their confidence in them was naturally destroyed. The new religion relieved them of many disagreeable duties, such as confession and fasting. Add to this the more potent factor that its observance was compelled by the dissatisfied temporal rulers, especially in England, where the practice of Catholic beliefs was punished by such dire penalties as to effectually prevent them, and we can account for its growth.

That the great underlying cause was the friction between Church and State, all impartial historians now affirm. The chief sources have been summarized by a noted nonCatholic historian as follows. “(1) The growth of the practice of “reservations,” and “provision,” by which the Popes reserved the right to appoint their own nominees to vacant sees and other benefices in defiance of the claims of the Crown; (2) The great question as to how far the lands and other property of the clergy should be subject to taxation; (3) The inevitable jealousy between the secular and ecclesiastical courts, and the serious problem of the extent of the jurisdiction of the Roman Curia; (4) The most fundamental difficulty of all, the extent to which the Pope, as the universally acknowledged head of the Church, was justified in interfering in the internal affairs of particular states.”

The growing nationalism, with its attendant increased political ambition among laymen, probably contributed to accentuate the antagonism that was steadily growing between Church and State. National pride tolerated, less and less, anything that was foreign, and in this way the complaints of temporal rulers against the interferences of the Popes in political matters found an echo among the mass of the people.

The Protestant dissenters were divided into three main groups-Lutherans, Calvinists and Anglicans. The first to revolt was a group in Germany under Martin Luther. Luther was a Catholic priest who claimed to have developed from the writings of St. Paul a conviction that salvation could be procured by faith alone. The Church taught that good works, in addition to faith, were necessary for salvation. The separation of Luther from the Church was brought about by the disposal of indulgences by a certain papal agent, named Tetzel, in the great Archbishopric of Mainz. Some Protestant historians have been unfair enough to assert that an indulgence was the remission of all sins, past, present and future, but the Church taught no such doctrine. The word, derived from the Latin word indulgeo, meaning to be kind or tender, originally meant kindness or favor; in post classic Latin it came to mean the remission of a tax or debt. In the Roman law and Vulgate of the Old Testament, it was used to express the release from captivity or imprisonment. In theological language the word is sometimes used in the primary sense to signify the kindness or mercy of God. But, in the special sense in which it is here considered, an indulgence is the remission of the temporal punishment due to sin, the guilt of which has been forgiven, and can only be obtained when the recipient is in the state of grace, that is, free from mortal sin. Indulgences would be granted for almsgiving and donations for religious and charitable purposes, as well as pious and laudable acts and devotions. Luther launched invective against Tetzel for disposing of indulgences for donations for religious purposes, claiming that they were being “sold” and were a corruption of the religious doctrines and a swindling of the poor people. If indulgences were sold, the offense of simony would have been committed, according to the Canon Law, which prohibited the sale of spiritual favors. In those days of ecclesiastical abuses, simony may have been committed, but Luther’s charge of Tetzel’s sale of indulgences has never been proved.

“Martin Luther,” says a noted non-Catholic historian, “was beyond doubt, the most important single figure in the Protestant revolt, but his influence was by no means so decisive and pervasive as has commonly been supposed and his attacks on the evils of the Church were no bolder or more comprehensive than those of Marisigilio or Wycliffe, or of several among his contemporaries who owed nothing to his example. Had the German princes not found it to their interest to enforce his principles, he might never have been more than the leader of an obscure mystic sect.”

Luther’s chief appeal was his appeal to the German nobility. Concerning it, it has been observed: “He urged the German princes to free their people from foreign control and shrewdly called their attention to the wealth and power of the Church which they might appropriate for themselves.” The German princes were not slow to espouse his cause. His teachings spread and found favor with the great mass of the peasant class. Nor is the reason hard to find. Justification by faith alone is a decidedly consoling teaching and would naturally find popularity among the multitudes whose confidence in their clergy had been destroyed and the acceptance of which would relieve them from the performance of many irksome religious duties. Their ignorant state could hardly enable them to differentiate between the divine and human notes of the Church. Their undeveloped intellect could not grasp that the Church could be pure in her teachings and dogmas, notwithstanding the corruption of many of her administrators. Then, too, there was the confirmation and sanction of such authority as their powerful lords, whose quarrel with the Church was interference with their secular jurisdiction. It also appealed to the worldly minded who longed to seize Church lands and revenue, and it probably received a sympathetic response in the patriotism, which was exalted by the growing national spirit that resented foreign interference in purely national and temporal affairs.

The peasants” espousal of Luther’s cause proved to be too logical to suit him, for they broke out in revolt against both their oppressors, the secular as well as the ecclesiastical lords. When Luther urged the German princes to assail the ecclesiastics, seize their lands and confiscate their property, the peasants listened joyfully and rendered most willing assistance, but when they directed their violence against all feudalism, he realized the danger ahead of him. The peasants” efforts against the ecclesiastics found sympathy and encouragement from Luther, but when the revolt became general all over central and southern Germany and was directed, not only against the Catholic clergy, but against all feudal lords, many of whom were Lutherans, a split in the religion between nobles and peasants was quickly discerned. Luther sided with the nobles, for he had most to expect from them. The revolt was crushed with terrible cruelty. Generally speaking the nobles became more powerful, while the lot of the peasants became infinitely worse. The influence of Luther, who they believed had betrayed them, rapidly declined among the peasantry, and wavering Catholic princes, who had before their eyes the object of Luther’s appeal to revolution, now cast their lot decisively with the ancient Church. The Peasants” revolt registered a distinct check to the further spread of Lutherism.

Calvinism, the forerunner of Presbyterianism, Congregationalism and of the Reformed Churches, was the second general type of Protestant dissension. Its way was prepared by Huldereich Zwingli in Switzerland, who, like Luther, was a Catholic priest. His opposition to the Roman Church was at first based upon political grounds. He preached against the practice of hiring out Swiss troops to foreign rulers and abused the Church for its share in this traffic of soldiers. He then denounced the abuses in the ecclesiastical system and finally denied the supremacy of the Pope and proclaimed the Scriptures as the sole guide of faith and morals. He preached against fasting, the veneration of saints and the celibacy of the clergy, and himself took a wife. In 1523, the Pope appealed to Zurich to abandon Zwingli. The answer was the Canton’s declaration of independence from the Catholic Church. The revolt spread rapidly in Switzerland, except in the five forest Cantons, in the very heart of the country, where Catholicism was firmly entrenched. Zwingli attempted to convert the five forest Cantons to his new religion by force of arms. Civil war ensued, but the Catholic mountaineers gained a great victory and Zwingli himself was killed. A truce was effected by which each Canton could determine for itself its own religion. As a result Switzerland has remained to this day part Catholic and part Protestant.

Zwingli’s death left Protestantism without a leader, but at this time the more celebrated Calvin took up his residence at Geneva. He was by far the most cultured and scholarly of the reform leaders. In 1529 he is said to have experienced a great “conversion.” The French king, Francis I., announced a determination to put an end to dissension among his subjects and Calvin sought a hiding place in the Swiss town, of Basel. There he published his Institutes of the Christian Religion, which contained the germ of all that subsequently developed as Calvinism. In 1536, he went to Geneva where he was appointed chief pastor and preacher of the City, which position he held, except for a short period, until his death. This position enabled him, as it proved, not only to direct the affairs of the town, but to give form and substance to an important branch of Protestant Christianity. His fundamental doctrine was “predestination” or salvation by choice or election only. Following Zwingli, he taught that the Lord’s Supper is not a miracle, but merely a symbol and a memorial. His doctrines spread to Scotland and England under the name of “Presbyterianism,” being brought to the former by John Knox and greatly influenced the theology of the Anglican Church under Edward VI.

The third and last form of Protestantism is known as Anglicanism and had its beginning under Henry VIII., of England. The cause of England’s break with the Church was the matrimonial difficulties of the English monarch. Married to the widow of his deceased brother, the Princess Catherine of Aragon, he, after eighteen years and when only one daughter, the Princess Mary, out of six children survived, pretended to believe that he was living in “mortal sin” and “downright incest” with her. At this time he was smitten by the beautiful Anne Boleyn, a maid in waiting at the court, but she repelled Henry’s amorous advances, and refused cohabitation with him, except as his queen. Alleging that a marriage to a brother’s widow was forbidden by Canon Law, Henry sought an annulment of his marriage to the Princess Catherine by Pope Clement VII. He had secured a dispensation for the marriage from Pope Julius II., but Henry thought that could be revoked by Clement. Simple as it appeared to Henry, the Pope was confronted with two difficulties: It would be a dangerous precedent to reverse a decision of his predecessor, and the emperor Charles V., a nephew of Catherine, espoused the cause of his aunt. Clement truthfully complained that he was between the anvil and the hammer. He sent legates to try the case and kept putting off a decision. The long delay irritated Henry. He thought to coerce the Pope by a few salutary enactments. He terrified the clergy into paying a fine of over a half a million dollars for violating an obsolet e statute forbidding the reception of papal legates, without royal sanction and forced them to recognize him as the supreme head of the Church, “as far as that is permitted by the law of Christ.” His subsequent parliament then empowered him to stop the payment of annates and appoint bishops without recourse to the Pope. He appointed one of his own creatures, Cranmer, Archbishop of Canterbury, and without waiting longer for a papal decision, he caused him to declare his marriage with Catherine null and void, and his union with Anne Boleyn, to whom in the meantime he had been secretly married, canonical and legal. Pope Clement then handed down his long delayed decision in favor of Queen Catherine and excommunicated Henry for adultery. Henry then caused his parliament to passa series of laws declaring the king “the only supreme head on earth of the Church of England,” and cutting off all communication with the Pope and inflicting the penalty of treason upon anyone who should deny the king’s ecclesiastical supremacy. Thus for the first time was denied what had been affirmed for centuries, viz.: the supremacy of the Pope.

Under Edward VI., the Church became Protestant, being largely influenced by Calvinism. In the reign of Mary, Catholicism was restored, but under Elizabeth it again reverted to Protestantism.

That no fundamental doctrinal changes were made under Henry VIII., is attested by a recent decision in a law case decided by the House of Lords, where the various statutes are referred to and cited. “His disputes with the Pope,” says this decision, “were mainly on questions of jurisdiction.” The Mass was in all essentials the same, he himself directing in his will that Masses be said for the repose of his soul. When Edward VI., came to the throne, the Mass was still recognized, his first parliament opening, in accordance with the ancient practice, with the Mass of the Holy Ghost. In 1548, sweeping changes were made in the form of the Mass and a Book of Common Prayer was adopted. There were many who refused to obey this book, and, accordingly, a further provision to compel its adoption was made. A statute was enacted which recited the establishment of the book and referred to the “old and superstitious service” and required, among other things, all obnoxious images and books to be destroyed. By the Act of Uniformity in the reign of Elizabeth (1559), the second Book of Common Prayer of Edward VI. was altered and again made obligatory, and the use of any other in its place was prohibited. “The effect was to render the saying of Mass illegal, and there are many instances of people being arrested for attending Mass, and even the services at Ambassadors” chapels were interfered with, in order to prevent the attendance there of English subjects.” It was not until the twenty-third year ofElizabeth’s however, that the saying of Mass was expressly declared to be a criminal offense. “To be a “Papist,” or “hear Mass” which were construed as the same thing, was punishable by death as high treason.”

What has the Reformation effected? We have heard it said that it has brought about liberty of conscience, enlightenment of understanding and broadness of vision; that it has freed religion from superstition and corruption and has made the Bible the final authority for the Word of God. But as CardinalNewman has well said: “When I hear speakers declaim about “Freedom of Conscience,” the “Gospel,” “large and enlightened views,” I am far from denying that some amongst them know what they are talking about, but it would be satisfactory in a particular case to be sure of the fact, for it seems to us that these household words may stand in a man’s mind for some thing or other very glorious indeed, but very misty, pretty much like the idea of civilization which floats before the mental vision of a Turk-that is if, when he interrupts his smoking, he condescends to reflect whether it has any meaning at all.”

Doubtless the Church did not then and will not now, permit one to accept her as the infallible teacher of Christ and nevertheless determine for himself what His teachings mean, for it will not permit one to deny what he affirms. This is license-not liberty of conscience. In spite of the confusion attendant on loose declamation, the facts may be easily separated and a correct conclusion reached. A noted non-Catholic historian speaks of its place in the history of progress and enlightenment in the following terms:

“In conclusion a word may be said of the place of the Reformation in the history of progress and enlightenment. A “philosopher,”” as Gibbon long ago pointed out, “who asks from what article of faith above and against reason the Reformers enfranchised their followers, will be surprised at their timidity rather than scandalized by their reply. They remained severely orthodox in the doctrines of the Fathers-the Trinity, the Incarnation, and the plenary inspiration of the Bible, and they condemned those who rejected their teachings to hell whose fires they were not tempted to extenuate. Although they surrendered transubstantiation, the loss of one mystery was amply compensated by the stupendous doctrines of original sin, redemption, faith, grace, and predestination. They ceased to appeal to the Virgin and the saints and to venerate images and relics, procure indulgences and go upon pilgrimages; they deprecated the monastic life and no longer nourished faith by daily repetitions of miracles, but in the witch persecutions their demonology cost the lives of thousands of innocent women. They broke the chain of authority without, however, recognizing the propriety of toleration. In any attempt to determine the relative importance of Protestant and Catholic countries in promoting modern progress, it must not be forgotten that religion is naturally conservative and that its avowed business has never been to forward scientific research or political reform. Luther and his contemporaries had not in any degree the modern idea of progress, which first becomes conspicuous with Bacon and Descartes, but believed, on the contrary, that the strangling of reason was the most precious offering to God. “Freethinker” and “rationalist” have been terms of opprobrium whether used by Protestant or Catholic. The pursuit of salvation does not dominate by any means the whole life or ambition of even ardent believers; statesmen, philosophers, men of letters, scientific investigators and inventors have commonly gone their way regardless of the particular form of Christianity which prevailed in the land in which they lived. The Reformation was fundamentally then, but one phase, if the most conspicuous, in the general decline of the majestic medieval State, for this decline has gone on in France, Austria, Spain and Italy, countries in which the Protestant revolt against the ancient Church, ended in failure.”

Its effect on the doctrines, organization and practices in the Catholic Church, is stated by the same authority to be “difficult to estimate, still more to substantiate. It is clear that the doctrinal conclusions of the Council of Trent were largely determined by the necessity of condemning Protestant tenets, and the result of the Council was to give the Roman Catholic Faith a more precise form than it would have had. It is much less certain that the disciplinary reforms, which the Council, following the examples of its predecessors, re-enacted, owed anything to Protestantism, unless, indeed the Council would have shown itself less intolerant in respect to such innovations as the use of the vernacular in the services, had not this smacked of evangelicalism. In the matter of the Pope’s supremacy, the Council followed the Canon Law and Thomas Aquinas, not the decrees of the Council of Constance. It prepared the way for the dogmatic formulation of the plentitude of papal power three centuries later by the Council of the Vatican. The Protestants have sometimes taken credit to themselves for the indubitable reforms in the Roman Catholic Church, which by the end of the sixteenth century had done away with many of the crying abuses which the councils and diets had been so long protesting. But this conservative reformation had begun before Luther’s preaching and might conceivably have followed the same course had his doctrines never found popular favor or been ratified by the princes.”

As to its effect on the people it is stated: “For the peasantry-still the bulk of European population-the religious and ecclesiastical changes seem to have been peculiarly unfortunate. What they gained through a diminution of ecclesiastical dues and taxes was more than lost through the growth of royal despotism and the exactions of hard-hearted lay proprietors. The peasants had changed the names of their oppressors and found themselves in a worse position than before. There is little doubt that at least as far as the German and Scandinavian countries are concerned, the lot of the peasants was less favorable immediately after, than immediately before, the rise of Protestantism.”

In the last analysis, then, the effect of the Reformation was to divide Christianity into hundreds of sects. This division occurred solely among the dissenters and is the natural outgrowth of the Protestant doctrine of “private judgment,” or the liberty of the individual to interpret the Bible for himself. The disintegration is still continuing and is reaching such lamentable results as the denial of the Divinity of Christ, His Virgin birth, and the assignment to the theological scrap heap of the doctrine of the fall of man as a fable “unworthy” of the “intellect” of this “enlightened” age. It is evident that there can be no unity under such a doctrine for the simple reason that there can be no criterion of religious truth. If the dissenting Churches did unite, what would be their united belief? Would they compromise their individual beliefs? “What compromise can there be between the affirmance and denial of Christ’s divinity? But if they did what would be the result? If they surrendered their right of private judgment their doctrines would be the mere compromise of individual human opinion and not the revelation of God. If they retained their right of private judgment, what guarantee would there be for the permanency of their union? Dissension could and would occur anew.

To summarize:

FIRST: The papal supremacy was recognized and never denied by Western and Central Europe until the beginning of the sixteenth century, nor by the Eastern and Asiatic Churches until the middle of the ninth.

SECOND: The break of the Eastern Churches with Catholic unity was not due to religious causes. It was only after an appeal to the Pope, as having supreme ecclesiastical jurisdiction, to confirm the uncanonical appointment of the Patriarch of Constantinople, resulted in failure, that the emperor and Patriarch denied the existence of the power they had appealed to. We have here a notorious case of denying what had been affirmed.

THIRD: The breach of Western and Central Europe likewise involved no doctrinal belief; at least the doctrinal differences were not the end sought, but merely the means used for procuring the end. The cause of the break was the majestic ecclesiastical State or the political part of the Church. Its encroachment on the rights of secular rulers, the attractions it offered worldly and unscrupulous persons to embrace the priesthood and the consequent shameful ecclesiastical abuses paved the way for the revolt. In England, the immediate and proximate cause was the lust of the English monarch and at first concerned mainly the question of jurisdiction. There the jurisdiction of the Pope was denied only after an unsuccessful appeal to him to annul as uncanonical the marriage of the English king and queen had been made, thus denying what had been invoked. The great underlying cause, however, was the friction between Church and State. The observance of the new religions were compelled by the secular rulers and the practice of the old religion forbidden, especially in England, where Catholic worship was punished by such dire penalties as to effectually prevent it.

The demand for reform was not confined to the dissenters, as many faithful sons of the Church were loud in their denunciation of the abuses of the clergy, but believed the desired reforms could be secured from within, instead of an open revolt. The reforms sought have since been had, and that the Reformation was not necessary to bring about the separation between Church and State, is shown by the disintegration of the ecclesiastical State in countries where the Protestant revolt ended in dismal failure.

FOURTH: The Protestant sects have divided and subdivided and are in the process of disintegration. The doctrine that each individual is at liberty to determine the meaning of the Bible for himself has left no criterion of religious truth. The net result is that Christianity is now divided into hundreds of sects and is all but unrecognizable.

FIFTH: Spiritually the Catholic Church has remained as intact and as virile as ever and is the one human institution that has survived the ages since the dawn of Christianity. The Papacy is the great visible fact of the world today.

This is the testimony of history for the Roman Catholic Church.

Nihil Obstat:

ARTHUR J. SCANLAN, D.D., Censor.

Imprimatur:

@ PATRICK CARDINAL HAYES, Archbishop of New York.

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The Title Catholic And The Roman Church

BY M. A. R. TUKER

INDEX

WHEN the complete order of the coronation service of Edward VII. was published, The Church Times lifted up its voice against the omission of the description “Catholic Faith” for the religion which the king swears to maintain. The actual words had been unfamiliar to the generations of Englishmen who have grown up since the Tractarian movement: if they had forgotten “what manner of men they were,” their memories had not been so short as St. James’s “hearer of the word,” for neither the royal oath nor the “crisis in the Church” had recently held up a glass to them. In April, 1902, the Protestant bishops of Ireland at their synod claimed the title “Catholic” for the Anglican Church; while on the other hand Cardinal Vaughan had discussed the question whether Catholics could properly be styled “Roman Catholics.” The question raised in these three cases is one which enjoys a perennial popular interest without being at the same time hackneyed. It is not hackneyed because it has never yet been disentangled from the nicknaming which presided at its birth, which has done much to save it from being approached in any but a superficial manner. I propose not to enter on controversial or theological ground-the inquiry as to which Church is most primitive, most “Catholic,” how much added definitions in the Roman Church have altered its character-but to extricate the inquiry, if possible, from the vexatious questions of “continuity” and the nature of the doctrines which constitute, limit or determine “catholicity”; directing attention to one point only, the evolution in history of the term catholic as applied to the Christian Church. Professor, Harnack has a pregnant sentence which cannot be overlooked in any future discussions: “Historically the Church of the [Petrine] Chair was the root and mother of the one Catholic Church,” and, being only a Lutheran, he would be willing to accept the consequences freely both for Germany and England.

The earliest appellation of the Faith was “the Christian.” Rome, perhaps, first drew official attention to the inalienable congregational character of its followers when the Roman Christians chose to be known to official Rome as “The Church of the Brethren “-ecclesia fratrum. The earliest disciples spoke of the “Holy Church”-a body in part composed of the disciples themselves, but also partly mystical, as the “Bride,” the “New Jerusalem,” whose counterpart was in heaven. The Gospel of “the Kingdom of God” found an echo in this insistence on the idea of the ecclesia, the society with the leaven in its midst. But as against the pagan world around them, whether in the Antioch of Chrysostom or the England of Hengist, they were simply the “Christian Church.” Any further appellations for the Holy Church were beaten out by the exigencies of controversy; they owed their existence to the heresies which sprang up and which nearly succeeded in suffocating the new religion. Such in especial is the origin of the two historical appellations for the Church which have superseded every other at the present day-”Catholic” and “Orthodox.” From the combat with heresy in the East issued the Orthodox Church; from the same combat in the West emerged the Church Catholic. What, if any, was the difference between these two titles, or the lines of thought described and connoted by them ? Just the difference which inheres in the words themselves. In the one case, importance placed on the thought, and the bond and means of unity depending on the intellectual adhesion of the individual; in the other, importance placed primarily in the notion of a universal society, and the bond and means of unity residing in the society itself. Attention called to right belief for the one, attention called to right discipline for the other. The Roman scheme of Church membership-where the elements of unity were congregational elements, to be seized and to operate externally-involved a conception of Church legislation akin to that put forth by the Church at Jerusalem (Acts xv. 28, 29), a mixture, that is, of essential and non-essential. One cannot imagine the historical Eastern Church at any time putting forth a decree in which theological precision and the metaphysical temper were so lacking as here. But when Augustin insisted that the Christian Pasch should be kept on the same day by the Britons and the new Anglo-Saxon converts, and that the British priests should wear the Roman tonsure, he was not cavilling, he was faithfully representing the genius of the country whose emissary he was.

The genesis of the term and the notion catholic can therefore be easily traced. As signifying the Christian Church everywhere-”catholic” in its simple adjectival sense of universal-the term had indeed been used as early as a common rule of faith, and the notion of the Christian Church as a world-wide united body became focussed or imaginable. A universal rule of interpretation, a faith believed universally, was denoted by it. But when the members of the Holy Church are first solemnly called “Catholic Christians” by Theodosius in 380, the word is pronounced with the Roman hallmark and its historical significance is already attached to it. The religion “which Peter taught to the Romans” is to be the common form of Christianity; it is professed by Damasus as representing Rome, and by Peter Bishop of Alexandria, not as Bishop of that See, but as “a man of apostolic holiness.” The See of Peter guarantees the authenticity of the doctrine; Peter of Alexandria’s holy life is a pledge of its Christian character. And what is this Catholic doctrine? A simple statement of the dogmas concerning the Trinity which is shared nowadays by our Nonconformists and by the non-episcopal Presbyterian Church. But the historical implication of catholicity knew no such limit; historically, then and since, Catholic implied a well-marked divine society in communion with the Patriarchate of the West. Its significance did not lie in a mere denial of Arianism, nor even in the notion of a “Church everywhere”; it meant something wider than the one, narrower than the other-the union of the Churches, the consolidation of the Churches, through the See of Rome, added to the Roman conception of the ecclesia. It was not some subtle emanation of true Christianity; it was adopted as the name for that Christendom which emerged from the sects as the work of the ‘Roman Church. Antecedently to that “broadening of the Churches into Catholicity,” which was accomplished by the See of Peter, the Catholic character did not exist. I do not propose to discuss whether the character thus imposed on Christendom was a fine or desirable one- whether separate local Churches without the idea of the Catholic Church would have brought Christianity to the, pass which J. R. Green (no pleader for Rome) declares would have resulted had Columba been preferred before Peter in the famous dispute at York. The one point to which I seek to call attention is that catholicity does not inhere in the conception of the Christian ecclesia—is no propium of the Christian Church-but inheres in Rome’s conception of that Church, and is an acquired attribute which we owe to Rome. Catholic_in the West and Orthodox in the East are historical, not inherent titles.

Let us now look at the Eastern Church. Constantinople was “New Rome,” and on this ground aggregated to herself some of the privileges of the Petrine See. I think this is a truth often neglected. Constantinople, the See next in importance and honour to Rome, the mother and root of the Orthodox Church and liturgy and discipline, was not all this qua pre-existing Church of the East, but qua an Eastern substitute for Western Rome. Her style, her title of prerogative is not: See of Constantinople, the ancient Eastern Church, but: See of Constantinople, The New Rome, and so her bishops signed the Councils of the universal Church. It is Constantinople, not Jerusalem, or Antioch, or Alexandria, which is placed by the (Ecumenical Council of Constantinople (A.D. 381) next in honour to Rome. Constantinople, “the new Rome.” But Constantinople and its subsidiary Sees underwent the influence of Eastern Christianity; Orthodoxy was of more importance to the metaphysical oriental than organization; metaphysical subtilties than an ordered society. The idea of its catholicity, the Roman quota, the character Rome had impressed on the Holy Church, was tacitly allowed to fall away, to be supplanted by the conception of Orthodoxy. The Eastern liturgies indeed call the Church “catholic” in the creed, and the word occurs twice in the liturgy of Chrysostom; but the real spontaneous description-in the liturgy and out of it-of the Holy Eastern Church, of its bishops and members, is “orthodox,” and Holy Orthodox Church is its official title both among the Greeks and Russians. When the schism of the West was accomplished, the Eastern Church for all practical purposes dropped the other title, and no longer spoke of herself or required her sons to speak of her as the Catholic, or the Greek Catholic Church. The word “catholic,” as employed to-day in the Eastern liturgy, is as much an antiquarian reminiscence as the word “orthodox” in our prayer “for all orthodox and catholic believers” in the Roman liturgy. Moreover all that the Eastern Church assimilated or valued in the notion of catholicity was exhausted for her in the word orthodox. So that when William Palmer went to Russia in the forties, fresh from the Tractarian movement and the insistence on the idea of the catholicity of the Church of England, to induce the Russian priesthood to give him-an Anglican in deacon’s orders-Communion, he could not find any one, hierarch or other, to set any store by the name or the idea. They were not catholic, they were orthodox, and if Anglicans wished to communicate with the Orthodox Church they must make overtures through their Patriarch the Bishop of Rome.

Sixty years ago the title “catholic” in the English Church was in much the same position as it has been in the Eastern Church since the schism with Rome. If it had not been for the use of the vernacular in Anglican formularies, and the lack of a term to denote their Church tantamount historically to the Greek “Orthodox,” the style “ Catholic “ would have ceased to be regarded as any part of its practical or working description. But a word did exist which denoted the English religion, and this word was “Protestant”: chosen by the Reformers, adopted, officially and popularly, by the English Church, this style has nothing in common with such terms as “Romanist,” “Papist,” and “Papisher,” intended to designate Catholics. These latter were adopted as nicknames by our countrymen; they were not, they could not, pretend to be historical appellations; nor were they descriptions which the great Church indicated thereby put forth regarding herself. The use they served must have been that of suggesting to the populace that the Church from which England had separated was not the venerable and historic Catholic Church.

Why, one may ask, should the Church of England desire a name which the Church of the East does not claim which sleeps at the back of its consciousness as an historical memory? The English Articles of Religion declare that all the Eastern Churches fell into error; but it is the fashion for the English Church to turn with respectful sympathy nowadays to the Greek Church. The, assumption (so satisfactory to the Reformers) that every Church in Christendom had fallen into error, that the Reformed Church alone could claim to be pure, does not suit men who are looking round about them for Catholic kinsfolk. Therefore no high churchman now suggests that the Eastern Church needs reforming, and no word is raised even against that practical neglect and depreciation of the title “catholic,” which in his eyes is anathema in England.

Let it not be thought that there was an original and primitive meaning of the word and the thing “catholic” which applies to a Christian Church like the Church of England, and that the historical meaning is a later description. Catholicity is no nebulous entity, but a very precise and concrete historical fact; and it would be difficult to state any set of doctrines on which it depends. A Church is not entitled to a name because it broke off from a Church which possessed it, and I do not suppose that Anglicans cling to it because the Emperor Theodosius gave the Christians of his time permission to use it. For the English Church to insist on its Catholicity is for it to insist on its Romanism. “Catholic” has always been as much the badge of a great party in the West as “Orthodox” in the East, and as applied to the English Church it means that this Church is part and parcel of the Western Patriarchate. Whether Colet would have reformed the Church, or Pole would have recognized the English Church, is of no consequence to the issue: the subsequent history of the Church in England would in either case have been entirely different to what it has been.

As we all know, among a certain party in England no one can belong simply to the English Church; he must belong to the Catholic Church, and he is, as those who study Anglican literature discover, a Catholic tout simplement. But a member of the Unreformed Church of history, whether in or out of England, is not a Catholic tout simplement. He is a Roman Catholic. So in Spain a man is not a Spanish Catholic, he is a Spanish Roman Catholic. In England only is he fortunate enough to be an English Catholic, an unqualified Catholic. Now must there not be here some jugglery with words and things ? The fiction at work is that the “Catholic Church” is in possession in England, and any other Church which seeks to gain converts “sets up altar against altar.” The Catholic Church does so, and is dubbed “The Italian Mission”; the Greek Church does so, but no reference is made to the fact. On the other hand, some Umbrian schismatics are included in the diocese of Salisbury, and it would be admitted that no more flagrant instance of setting up “altar against altar” exists than the establishment of the Church of England in Ireland. This fiction, moreover, does not explain why it is that apparently the “Roman” Catholic Church functions in Austria, Spain, Italy, Belgium, and France, while “the Catholic Church” functions in England. The fact is that by adding a mark of cadency to the historical Catholic Church of the West, the Church of England has confused the issues. She leaves it to be believed that there is a vague entity, “the Catholic Church,” without habitat in time or place, of which both “Rome and England” are cadets. The “Branch” theory-that the English Church is a branch of the Catholic Church-sounds very business-like. But there has never been anywhere a branch of the Catholic Church which was not also Roman; and, above all, a branch implies organic union with the parent stem. The Russian Church is a true daughter of the Holy Orthodox Church, from which it was founded and missionised, for “how shall they preach unless they are sent?” Is the Anglican Church a daughter of the Catholic Church in communion with Rome? If not, from what Catholicity does it claim? Do the Umbrian in the Bishop of Salisbury’s diocese become “Italian Catholics” or “English Catholics”? and do they thus drop all qualification because they have broken away from Rome, while the historical Church next door (say in Lombardy or Venice) is Roman Catholic? For be it observed that the “Roman” is here used not in the sense in which we rightly say “Greek Orthodox,” “Russian Orthodox,” “French Catholic,” “American Catholic,” but as qualifying its Catholicity. The confusion is encouraged by the gratuitous assumption that “Roman,” “Greek,” and “Anglican” are obvious designations of three divisions of “the Catholic Church”; although “Roman Catholic” was not the title of the unreformed Church of the West subject to the Western patriarchate before the Reformation, and “Greek Catholic” does not signify the Holy Orthodox Church even in English Church newspapers. The “branch” theory will not serve as a note of catholicity, because the only and sole meaning of “branch” in these cases is a Church which is not in communion with either of the others.

The Dollingerites assumed the name of Old Catholics, and “Protestant Catholic” would have a somewhat similar historical significance. Or is it judged more seemly that the Catholic Church should take on a qualifying adjective every time that a “branch” determines to break off from her? The expression “English Catholic” is not only misleading on the Continent, but is indeed not infrequently used to mislead, as when members of the English Church snatch an absolution at St. Peter’s in Rome by telling the priest they are “English Catholics.” I know of a clergyman who induced the persons temporarily in his employ in an Italian country place to attend the “mass” he celebrated in his house. Had he explained to them that, however erroneously, this mass all’inglese was reputed heretical by their own lawful pastors they would certainly not have gone. I trust the “Italian Mission” in England is not capable, with all its proselytising faults, of so swelling a congregation, though it has never subscribed to the “altar against altar” theory. I myself had an experience more curious than edifying some years ago when I was spending the summer in Italy. In a small country town I met an English canon and his wife, and we had some very pleasant conversations at the tables d’hote, where we were the only English people. One evening I pronounced the word “Protestant”-I remember I was quoting Mr. Wilfrid Ward. My English canon’s opportunity had come-thrusting his chair away from the table he declared he would not sit there to be called a Protestant. He and his wife thereupon left the table, and neither this grey-haired clergyman nor his grey-haired wife-hailing from a diocese associated with “high church” causes-could find it in their hearts even to salute me when we met at the next meal.

Now, when did the English Church officially notify the rest of Christendom that she had repudiated the term Protestant and blotted the word out from her formularies? (In which, be it remembered, she has never ventured to describe herself as the Anglican Catholic Church.) Until this is done, what bishop or clergyman has a right to resent an appellation which is that used by the ecclesiastical head of the English Church when he administers to his sovereign the oath “to maintain the Protestant Reformed Religion established by law,” and which a late Archbishop of Canterbury (Benson) said formed part of the proper description of his Church? Is it not reasonable that there should be some distinction between the Catholic Church of history (which had a local existence and authority and voice through the centuries) and that Reformed Church, which its late head declared was “both Catholic and Protestant”? Let us suppose that in France there were to be not only Calvinists and Catholics but a “branch” off from the Catholic Church, which either refused or was refused communion with Rome. This would not be the French Catholic Church. It might conceivably be of sufficient importance, sufficiently historical, sufficiently bound up with the laws and affections of the land to be known as the Galilean Church. But let us suppose that in every country “branches” broke off from communion with Rome-in such an event there might cease to be a Catholic Church at all. There might still be, let us say, a “Holy Church” (as our Apostles’ creed originally ran), but there would no longer be a Catholic Church-for Catholic is a word denoting the Roman orthodoxy of Christians outside the local Roman Church. But the truth is that neither “Catholic” nor “English Catholic” would at any time denote the English Church to a majority of its members, and no body of Christians in existence today would concede her the title.

If this is the case with “English Catholic,” what can be said for “Roman Catholic”? This can only mean Catholic in communion with Rome, and as such is not an improper, though it is a redundant title. Nevertheless there is no such historical warrant for its use as for that of the title “Protestant.” As I understand Cardinal Vaughan, he thinks the description “Roman Catholic” preferable to the equivocal use of “Catholic,” and I have no doubt that had “Papist” been adopted as a consequence of the rise of an anti-papal party, say in the third century, to designate Catholics in communion with the Pope, Christians would have been well content with it. But historically “Protestant” has the advantage of “Papist”; it was chosen by the parties so described, and it has not the offensiveness of a nickname given to offend or to imply a character not claimed by the persons so denoted. But why are we to like “Papist” as a fitting description, and you to regard “Protestant” as a malicious nickname?

In claiming that “Catholic” is as much the distinctive, appropriate and historical title of the Unreformed Church of the West, as “Orthodox” is the distinctive, appropriate and historical title of the Unreformed Church of the East-that no other solution is conformable to history or the common usage of language-we are supported not only by Professor Harnack, who has been called the first of living Church historians, but also by the finest of English critics, Matthew Arnold; who while allowing to the Anglican communion the historic title of “Church of England,” deemed the changes in the sixteenth century too far-reaching to warrant its retention of “Catholic.”

Enough, I think, has been, said to show not only that catholicism is the characteristic of the Roman Church -its child, its creature, the outcome and expression of its genius-but that the Roman Church and the conception of catholicity are inseparable. No Church separated from Rome has continued to prize or represent catholicity, which is still (for better or worse) the strength and marrow of the Churches of the Western patriarchate. The conception of orthodoxy-the imposing of a mental agreement-is in itself a disintegrating, not a binding principle. In any case, it was foreign to the tolerant, social, imperial and non-metaphysical Roman Church, whose quota to Christendom is hence not intensive but extensive. The sanction of Church membership in the West was at no time, as in the East, attachment to an irreformable formula, but, on the contrary, attachment to a divine society. But if the Roman Church has been non-metaphysical, she has shown a faculty for practical psychology unapproached by any other Christian Church. She instinctively understood that unity for the masses is a. question of will and affections, not of intellect; that it cannot in the ultimate resort depend on a correct conception of doctrines which have never in fact been realised or comprehended; that the people cannot commit abstract defection (or heresy), it must be concrete defection from the visible society. Rome has never treated the schismatic as standing any nearer the truth than the heretic. She assumes (as imperial Rome assumed) that no man of good will need rend the unity of Christendom. She has had, moreover, the far-seeing courage not to shrink from the logical consequence, namely, that a man may be a heretic in thought yet remain a Catholic in intention, Church membership being based not on the theological knowledge of the flock but on their presence in the fold. The plague of the heretic is not in the mistaken thought, the incorrect concept, but in the use he makes of this to destroy the unity of the divine society.

Such a system may, and undoubtedly does, tend to substitute obedience to authority for the interior and ennobling argumenta of faith. But there must always be men to whom the ideas which group round “catholic” have more power of attraction than those excited by”orthodox,” and who are grateful to the Roman Church for making that great conception the handmaid of Western Christianity; whereby Christian unity came to signify the embracing of as many minds as possible under a common all-comprehensive formula, which threw the onus of defection on the dissentient member; and whereby it was understood that the universal notion represented by the ecclesia was the Ark of Unity, not the archivium of Orthodoxy.

At least this is the only Church system which has effected unity without courting stagnation: and it may safely be said that no body of Christians has ever so valued, so emphasized, so identified itself with this ideal of unity as the body of Christians formed by the Roman Church and the Roman Popes. While Orthodoxy indicated the ground of unity, but was powerless to effect it, the Roman idea was to knit the world of believers in Christ in a visible, tangible society capable of effecting what it signified. Rome rejected the spiritual idea of the “other sheep” who hear Christ’s voice and form one intangible flock, preferring to it the conception of the one fold-the ovile boldly repeated by her in John x. 16. This is the greatness-it may also be the weakness-of Catholicism; but this and nothing else is historical Catholicity.

********

The Torch of The Faith

THE LETTERS OF A JESUIT MISSIONARY, HEINRICH DUMOULIN, S.J. TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN BY J. P. GLEESON, S.J

INDEX

These letters are the personal correspondence of a Jesuit Missionary in Japan with a young friend at home whom he first knew as a small boy at school. As the years passed by the boy developed an interest in the mission life. He came in time to think that he himself might have a vocation to such a life of sacrifice and self—denial. The correspondence began when he wrote to the Jesuit Father far away on the missions and asked his advice and help.

The replies he received, which are here translated, breathe the true, burning apostolic spirit of a missionary after the heart of great St. Paul.

May they inspire the hearts of young generous Catholics to imitate the deeds of their author, and, perhaps, foster and develop vocations to the noble life they reflect.

When St. Ignatius sent St. Francis Xavier as a missionary to the East, he said. ―Go, set the whole world aflame with the love of Christ.‖ The Torch of the Faith, which symbolises the missionary’s work, has been passed on from hand to hand since the days of St. Paul; and today Christ still calls, especially our Catholic Youth, to pass on in their turn the precious gift of their faith as real missionaries—working for Christ either in their native country, or, like the author of these letters, in a distant pagan land

THE KINGSHIP OF CHRIST

(I.)

Dear Jim,

When I last saw you, you were still a third form boy. I have often thought of you since those days, and indeed, often intended to write to you. And now you are asking me to do so yourself. You believe that I understand your noble aspirations and you want me to give you a little help and advice. How gladly I answer your prayer! First, then, you want to hear news of God’s kingdom on the missions, a subject that lies nearer to my heart than any other. And I greatly rejoice to think that this letter will reach you for the Feast of Christ the King. In this way my lines fall on good soil, and perhaps they may help you to a deeper penetration of the thoughts that centre round the feast. The Kingship of Christ is the great, supreme concern of the missions-it is the sublimest thought in the life of the missionary. I must try to tell you something about it. Is the expression ―Kingship of Christ‖ only an item on the mission programme-does it not rather enkindle new life and new inspiration? At the very beginning of his Encyclical on the Feast of Christ the King, the Holy Father speaks of the great labours of the Church in the pagan world. He begins with the Vatican Mission Exhibition and observes: ―It has shown us how many lands have been won for the Church by the blood and the sweat of brave and invincible missionaries. But it has also brought before he eyes of Christendom what numberless countries still remain to be conquered, to be won to the sweet yoke of our King.‖

The expression, ―Kingship of Christ,‖ is a str ong one—one of those phrases which are realities. It is a reality on the missions. It has roused a fresh spring of missionary work in the Church. The hour is heavy with responsibility and importance because it is the hour of a crisis. It has been called the hour of decision for the mission world. God leaves the fate of the peoples and the nations in the hands of His warriors. God’s Kingdom depends indeed on the labours of men. Men can extend and broaden it; men can also do it untold harm- particularly in the times of a crisis. Such is the Holy Will of God, such has history shown it to us again and again.

This time in the history of the world is truly great and of far-reaching importance. We are confident that it is an hour of grace, one of those hours in which the mighty hand of God reaches out, when His operations are made clearly manifest. Already we are hearing of new and important successes from the mission fields and of a rapid expansion of their work. The numerous missionaries who have travelled to pagan lands since the last Great War and who have erected many new Bishoprics, Vicariates, Prefectures and Parishes, are the first fruits of this newly awakened mission spirit and love of missionary work. The three Catholic universities which throw their beacon light of truth over the dark night of Eastern Asia and the six native Bishops whom the Holy Father recently consecrated for the Church in China, are the spring flowers that promise the coming of a rich harvest time.

We ought to rejoice from the bottom of our hearts at the great things which are happening on the mission fields. Perhaps they indicate the beginning of that ―great hour of grace‖ when the Church, having established the West in the true Faith, will bring the whole world in allegiance to the Kingship of Christ.

There is an even deeper meaning in all these things. When the Vicar of Christ proclaims his plan for the Kingship of Christ, and when a rebirth of mission life follows on his words, then are we really living the life which flourished nearly two thousand years ago on the hillside of Galilee. At that time, the risen Son of God manifested Himself to His worshipping disciples as their King, ―To me is given all power in heaven and on earth!’ And by way of a royal command He issued the missionary order, ―Go into the whole world, teaching all nations in the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost.‖

This is the special greatness of our times that Christ manifests Himself in it, Christ Who is with the Church ―all days evento the end of the world.‖ This it is that gives the Pope’s words their really deep significance—that Christ speaks in them, Christ Who. is ―the same yesterday, today and forever.‖ Herein lies the strength and the nobility of the Catholic mission endeavour; Christ works in it, Christ toils and suffers in his missionaries, Christ is glorified in them and through them, Christ Who is united to the Church, His Mystical Body, and Who lives in her. His most secret and divine life.

Nearer and nearer through the missions comes the ―fullness of time‖ wherein all things in heaven and on earth will be bound together in Christ as in the Head. St. Paul, speaking of the wonderful union that exists between Christ and His Church, adds the words: ―This mystery is great.‖ You, too, will be silent and awestruck before this mystery when you try to penetrate it more deeply. You will stand in humble admiration before the unfathomable goodness of God, who would work such great things in His creatures. Then will the words of human speech no longer satisfy you. When you hear of the Kingship of Christ and of the Catholic World Mission, your first thought should be to set yourself to pray; and as you pray you will understand for yourself the meaning of the call of Christ the King.

Hence, you see that great thoughts and important eras always have something to say to each one personally—and it is this: they want each one to be personally great. St. Ignatius of Loyola understood this deeply and clearly as few have done. Therefore he gave a personal note to his favourite meditation of the Kingdom of Christ. Let him speak to you in his own simple and powerful words: Place before your eyes an earthly monarch, chosen by God Our Lord Himself, whom all Christians reverence and obey. Mark howthis King addresses his people: ‗My Will is to reduce to subjection all the lands of the infidels; wherefore, whoever desires to come with me must be contented to eat what I eat, to drink and be clothed as I. And likewise he must labour as I do during the day, and watch during the night, in order that afterwards he may have part with Me in the victory, as he had in the toils.‖’ St. Ignatius concludes with the words: ―If any one did not welcome the request of such a king, how he would deserve to be censuredby all the world and deemed a slothful knight.‖ At the beginning of the meditation and at the end, and during the whole hour of prayer, the saint calls upon us to pray, to call to God tirelessly,’Ne sun urdus,‖ ―that I be not deaf to His call.‖

Christ is the King: He calls for volunteers. He calls His own to the winning of the world: ―My will is to reduce to subjection all the lands of the infidels.‖ I must stand with our Saviour on the field of battle! May I not be deaf to His call! May I see and understand the meaning of the Kingship of Christ;—understand what it means to me personally, what the triumph of the Kingdom of God on earth means for me; what the Redeemer wants from me! It is quite certain—Our Lord is calling, calling you, calling every Catholic. Everyone must help Him. Everyone must be a missionary in his own way as a layman or a priest, in his own country or among the pagans. The call of Christ has gone out to all. His royal message is everyone’s concern. It s the holy Christian duty of every soul to labor with Him to establish His worldwide kingdom. ‗Lord, what wilt Thou have me to do?‖ ―Adsum facere voluntatem tuam.”

I am ready, may I not be deaf to Thy call?

H. DUMOULIN, S.J

(II)

ST. FRANCIS XAVIER

Dear Jim,

That the call of Christ the King gives you now no rest does not surprise me! What young person could listen to His call and not be moved? Is there any one whose soul St. Ignatius’ earnest prayer, ―that I may be not deaf to His call,‖ would not set on fire?

And now you have overwhelmed me with questions. I am not sure where to start. However, I know a way out. This time I shall relate to you a story which may, indeed solve many of your difficulties. It is the story of St. Francis Xavier, how he heard the call of Christ and the way in which he responded to it. I do not know whether you have already read his life or not. It is a fascinating and highly attractive story. But I must leave it to you to read the life itself in some book, perhaps the new one written by Father Schurlianimner. For the feast day of the saint I shall bring before your mind only three pictures from his life.

Out from the family castle of his father ‘s rides the youngest member of the Xavier clan. His youthful dream of knight errantry and hero-renown has been dreamt through to its conclusion. Enemies have conquered his fatherland. His home land, Navarre, lies grovelling in the dust. The strength of the aristocracy has been broken. Francis’ father has fallen in battle, and his two brothers dragged to prison. Francis was still a child when it all happened. Navarre had finally to surrender to the superior strength of the enemy. The small country’s struggle for freedom was at an end, and subjection to foreign power made inevitable.

Francis Xavier rides forth from his homeland—nineteen years of age. Nevertheless, he will win again the laurels of renown. The University of Paris is his goal. It is the spiritual Mecca of the world. He felt within himself the power to become a great man there in the intellectual sphere.

Francis Xavier rides forth into the world. Its length and breadth lie open to him. Never again shall he set eyes upon the peaceful land of Navarre. The woodlands of his home country rustle in the autumn wind as he makes his way out. It is autumn, too, in the great world whither he rides. It is grown to be a weary place. Decay and disintegration are the characteristic features of the sixteenth century. Mankind no longer thinks again the great thoughts of the noble Middle Ages. The last knight is dead. The hero-ideal is sunk in its grave. The Church bleeds from deep wounds. Francis Xavier knows nothing of these contemporary events. He knows only that he wills to be great. It is springtime in him. He dreams, he desires, he wills. So it is with the nineteen-year-old.

The second scene is in Paris. Before the altar of our dear Lady at Montmartre, among the first seven Jesuits kneels Francis Xavier. The ambitious young Professor, the Master of Arts, who at twenty-four years of age has won the admiration of the University and stands at the threshold of a glorious career, kneels and vows poverty, spiritual poverty and actual poverty as it may please the Divine Majesty; kneels and vows chastity, a stern, hard life of renunciation and penance. The proud nobleman who, by birth, intellectual gifts and strength of character, seems born to rule, kneels and vows obedience, to renounce forever his own will to be the servant and the least of all. ―Voveo paupertatem, castitatem et bedientiam perpetuam,” ―I vow perpetual poverty, chastity and obedience!’

A miracle has taken place-a miracle of Divine Grace. Francis Xavier is now meek and humble, a disciple of Him Who was crucified. Now he is nothing but a ―vinctus Christi,‖ a lave of Christ. His heart, his will is ―preparedness‖; his only prayer, ―Lord, what wilt thou have me to do?‖ ―Not to me, but to Thy Name, 0 Lord, be praise!’ That is more like the lofty character, the noble-mindedness and devotion of a saint in the making.

And now a last scene. The lonely fishery island of Sancian lies opposite the mainland of China. In a straw hut built on the shore Francis Xavier lies resting—resting on his deathbed. He has won thousands for Christ in India and founded a flourishing young church in Japan. Now China lies before him, that enormous country of a hundred million souls. if he can make the journey thither, if China will receive the Faith even now, then here would be hope that within a brief period all Asia would become Christian, and that the Cross would triumph in the East.

Thus did Francis Xavier hope as he set out on this, his last, journey. But now he lies in death with pagan China before his very eyes. Only an Indian who had accompanied him, and one Chinese—a foretaste of the fruits of that country—are at his side. He had indeed brought two companions from the fatherland with him to help him in his work, but they had deserted him. Portuguese fugitives from a Chinese prison described the terrors of Canton dungeons: how the prisoners were penned together there by the thousand, how their feet were racked every night in wooden blocks, how they were struck and maltreated, and how strong iron doors, high walls and rough guards prevented all access to them. His companions weakened and turned back home. Francis Xavier remained alone with the two strangers waiting for a passage, gazing towards the land he could distinguish in the distance—waiting: until the fever attacked and brought him down. Now he lies in the straw hut on the lonely shore of Sancian. The tropical night closes in. His two faithful followers watch over him as he draws his dying breath. As the morning of December 3, 1552, dawns, the Indian closes the eyes of the Saint and the Chinese lights the death candle.

Such was the death of St. Francis Xavier—alone among the sons of the East, in the prime of his years, prematurely broken by his excessive toils and sufferings, alone before the gates of China locked and bolted. . . .

You have tired of my story, and 1 should like to end my letter here: only I should like, too, to stand with you for a few moments in silent awe before the greatness of the Apostle; and to pray with you, to pray to St. Francis Xavier, to pray that you may understand those words of St. Augustine in which he explains the meaning of a life of sanctity. In his Confessions he describes the thoughts that came into his mind when he contemplated the great family of the saints: ―I saw great numbers of boys and maidens, men and women, young .and old, grave widows and ladies of dignity . . . ‗et tu non potens quod isti, quod istae?,’ and should not you be able to do what these, what those have done?’ Did they achieve it of themselves, and not rather in the Lord, their God?‖

You need not, indeed, you may not, lose courage considering the greatness of a St. Francis Xavier. You should and must have courage, the courage of humility. ―Virtus in infirmitate perficitur,‖ ―Virtue is perfected in weakness.‖ Was St. Francis Xavier’s strength his own and not rather the Lord’s, his God’s? Has not God in thousands and thousands of missionaries repeated over and over again the life of St. Francis Xavier? And will He not renew it again and again until the light of the true faith is a beacon to the whole world?

It is not a useless romanticism to dream the dream of Xavier. That for which Francis Xavier longed, and for which he sacrificed his strength and his life with a consuming love has not yet been fulfilled. The heroism of the missionaries remains the same even in the twentieth century, The importance of their work has indeed increased. It seems as if today the hour is struck for which Francis longed and prayed, the great hour of grace for the nations of the distant East.

The life of St. Francis Xavier must not merely be dreamt about in the quiet hours. A man must will it, and, with God’s grace, live it. It is only natural if all that is great, noble and heroic should be aroused in you as often as you hear of Francis Xavier. Many of the noblest souls share these sentiments with you. It is true, you will also find that it is hard to keep step with the saint; hard not to fall completely behind him in the spirit of sacrifice aid the warmth of your love. For that you must repeatedly pray.

H. DUMOULIN, S.J

(III.)

THE PRIESTLY VOCATION

For the Feast of Our Lady’s Immaculate Conception. Dear Jim, How 1 rejoice to be able to write this letter to you under the protection of the dear Mother of God. If the grace of God ever visibly works in the lives of men, assuredly it is in the question of a vocation. And in the affairs of grace, Our Lady is our most powerful assistant: she, the Mediatrix of all Graces, the most kindly counsellor: she, the Mother of all who profess the Faith of Christ. ―Per Mariam ad Jesum,‖ ―through Mary to Jesus.‖ Mary has always been the safest guide to Our Lord in every land. Even during the life time of Jesus she fulfilled this task: and in the course of the centuries she has accomplished it with happy success for so many saints. And she will carry it through for you, too, if you will only trust yourself to her. Under her guidance, then, we shall broach this difficult question with the fullest confidence.

But is it really so difficult, this question of a vocation? One might think so, seeing so many young people sorely suffering on its account and hearing so many timid doubts—or, considering how much depends upon the solution of the problem where the complete happiness of a young man’s life may be involved. Yes, the question is a decisive and an important one, but not on that account difficult and alarming.

The Church shows us a wonderful picture, which is a consoling reality, in the Epistle read in today’s Mass. Mary, our Mother, standing and speaking from the earliest times to people in every walk of life: ―He who has found Me, will find life, and he shall achieve the salvation of the Lord!’ You have found Mary in your life, and you have prayed to her, your Mother, from your youth. Your quest cannot fail. Be humble and confiding. The Mother of God will guide you safely.

But your pressing problem calls for a more distinct reply. You shall have it. You should clearly understand what is meant by a vocation to the priesthood—such a vocation is indeed the very kernel of the call to the missions—and how it fits in with your own vocation. I shall tell you what Our Lord Himself said about vocations and what the Church thinks and teaches on the subject. Thus we shall be on safe ground and in no danger of error.

A strange story, deeply significant, is found in the Gospels: the meeting of Jesus with the rich young man. You have often heard it, and perhaps once upon a time it affected you profoundly. You may learn from it how important is the choice of a vocation.

All that is necessary for a genuine call to the priesthood and apostolate was present in the case of the rich young man. He is noble and high principled, well disposed for grace, and willing to receive it. From his youth he had observed all the Commandments and the precepts. And now he puts the problem of his vocation to the Master. ―What is yet wanting to Me?‖ Is not this your own problem? In every letter you write, you return to it.

And the Saviour’s reply: ‗Jesus, looking on the young man, loved him.‖ And He spoke to him: ―One thing is yet lacking, come, follow Me!’

Our Lord invites the rich young man. He calls him to be His companion. What significance has that in the question of selecting a vocation? This: the call to the priesthood is grace. It is ―calling‖ in a special sense. ―It is not you who have chosen Me; it is 1 Who have chosen you!‖

The priest is a ―vessel of election.’ Fullness of power is bestowed on him, making him a sharer in the power of God. Day after day the Son of God descends upon the altar obedient to his word. Day after day he brings Him to the Heavenly Father as a sacrifice of reconciliation for the sins of the world. Power is given to him to forgive sins. Truly the grace of a vocation to the priesthood is a sublime gift of God. No sinful creature is worthy of such an exalted calling. ―Let no man presume this honour for himself, but he must be called to it by God,‖ says St. Paul.

The power of the priest is in his vocation. He may be weak and quite unworthy in himself, but he knows that God, who began the work, will see to its fulfilment. Yes, perhaps his very paltriness is the foundation of his vocation. God has indeed chosen what the world esteems as weak in order to confound the strong. The call is the work of grace; that means humility. I have done nothing towards it myself. . . . It is grace; that means courage. God will manifest the workings of grace in me.

The vocation is founded in the elective grace of God. It becomes efficacious through the free decision of the one called, as is shown by the other words Jesus spoke to the rich young man: ―If thou wilt be perfect. . . .”“ The vocation is voluntary. God’s grace forces no man. Christ founded His Kingdom on the generosity of His disciples, on their free consent. If the Church is to grow and expand on earth, if the mysteries of the Blessed Sacrament are, to be celebrated or the truth of the Gospel to he proclaimed, it will depend upon whether men of noble minds may still be found ready to sacrifice all and to follow Christ. There is something greatly touching for a noble soul in Our Lord’s confidence m the generosity of His own.

It is true that Our Saviour knew that very many noble-minded men would be forthcoming until the end of time.

But there still remains the final decision allowed to every single one in his own free choosing. Each one has the power to say ―no.‖

That invitation came to the rich young man just as it did to the twelve Apostles. The same vocational graces worked in them all. Of the Apostles it is written: ―And they left all and followed Jesus.‖ But of the rich young man: ―And he went away sad, because he hadgreat possessions.‖ A young man must put his goods together and give his consent. In this lies the ultimate meaning of his freedom in the matter.

You may learn yet another truth from the story of the rich young man, a golden truth, above all for the choice of a vocation. It is written: ―He went away sad!’ Sad because he had not the will to make the sacrifice. Have you ever thought about the pleasure that is found in sacrifice? It is the only true and absolutely pure pleasure—pleasure through sacrifice and in sacrifice. Try it for yourself; try it again and again until you are able by the great final sacrifice of your life to win the highest possible happiness for yourself.

Now let the story of the rich young man and the words of Our Saviour speak once moreto your soul: ―Jesus looked on the young man and loved him; and He said to him: One thing is still wanting to you. If thou wilt be perfect, go sell what thou hast and give to the poor, and thou wilt have treasure in heaven. Then come, follow Me.‖

These are Our Lord’s words about vocation. And the Church, that is to say, Christ still living on the earth in time, takes care that the Saviour’s words are rightly understood and carried out and so bring men to eternal happiness. Accordingly, I shall now tell you what he Church thinks about vocation to the priesthood.

First of all you must believe that God willingly and liberally dispenses the grace of vocation, that He calls many to the ranks of His priests. You would not, and could not, credit that God would be miserly in His gifts, nor that His grace could be found wanting at a time when the world has too few priests and too few apostles. It is God’s Will that all men should be saved. But how can they be saved when there are not priests enough to distribute to them the grace of redemption, when there are insufficient numbers of apostles? O preach to them the word of God? The grace of a vocation is not an unusual thing, God bestows it on many young men. Our late Holy Father states this expressly. In his encyclical on August 1. 1922, we find: ―The priesthood is an essential part of the Church. Wherefore it cannot he doubted that in our own day God grants an ample supply of priestly vocations. Otherwise He would be withdrawing His assistance from the Church in a matter of vital importance.‖

In accordance with her way of understanding the matter, the Church lays down the conditions by which the genuineness of a vocation is tested. They are only these two: right intention, and suitability. Pope Pius X. announced this clearly in his Decree, July 26, 1912. He says: ―The vocation to the priesthood does not in itself necessarily include a definite perceptible inclination or a continuous impulse on the part of the Holy Ghost. As far as the candidate is concerned nothing more is required than the right intention and the suitability; that is, that he be endowed with natural and supernatural gifts in such a measure that one may have the well grounded hope that he will grow to be really suitable for fulfilling the obligations of the priesthood. Such is the case when he has led an upright life and has received the necessary intellectual formation.‖ As Father Vermeersch says, discussing this Decree, the right intention is present ―when one wants to become a priest, not in order to lead an easy, pleasant life, nor with a desire for the honour and respect which the ministry brings with it, but in order to take one’s share in the work of establishing Christ’s Kingdom, convinced that a priest can do much more for the glory of God, for the salvation of afflicted souls and his own personal sanctification.‖

The mind of the Church on the subject of the choice of a vocation is made quite clear in these recent explanations. Whoever satisfies these conditions, which the Church lays down, should be comforted by the conviction that God has bestowed upon him the grace of a vocation. Now it remains for him to do all in his power to reach the goal of the priesthood. The young man has no business to brood and doubt any further. He should make his decision courageously and offer himself wholeheartedly to the Church for the sacred ministry. In the Church the Holy Ghost holds sway. If the Church accepts him as her priest, and, after preliminary trials in a diocesan or regular seminary, gives her final consent through the Superiors who take God’s place, then the Lord has chosen him. God has bestowed on him the fulness of the grace of vocation.

My letter has become somewhat lengthy, but I thought 1 should write all this to you to explain what choosing a vocation means. You should now understand the matter quite well and make your decision with your mind clear.

Meanwhile I continue to recommend you and your troubles to the dear Mother of God. You placed your choice of a vocation in her hands from the beginning. It is in safe keeping. For, indeed, ―it has never been heard of that anyone who fled to her protection, implored her help or sought her intercession was abandoned.‖ And note well that least of all has it ever been heard of in the great anxiety of choosing a vocation.

- H. DUMOULIN, S.J

(IV)

THE HEATHENS’ NEEDS. For the Feast of the Epiphany.

Dear Jim,

Through the long weeks of Advent you have in your trusting prayer nourished in your heart your love and interest for the missions, until you were able to lay them on Christmas night at the feet of the Infant Jesus in the crib. I waited a while before writing to you again. The still, silent winter weeks, while the seed is growing in the soil, are indeed valuable moments. But today the Church is beckoning. She invites us to be her great mission ally. It is the Epiphany of Our Lord. ―He has appeared; He has appeared. Christ, our salvation, has shown Himself to us.‖ To all the peoples and the nations comes the call: Wait no longer; delay not to come and live in His incomparable light.‖ See here the three holy Kings! They are the first born. ―of the great host, of all peoples, races, families and tongues that no man can number,‖ the multitude that in Christ has found its salvation.

The Epiphany is the Church’s mission rally. It is the time when she rejoices in the great results of her mission labours, of the unwearying care that has brought in a hundredfold. Once upon a time our homeland was also an untilled mission field. The proud Roman empire was a most difficult heathen civilisation when the Apostles subdued it to the Cross of Christ. The Church looks back with joy and gratitude over a glorious mission history. She may also rejoice when she considers the present position of the world missions. How amazed were men at the Vatican Mission Exhibition held in Rome during he Holy Year! The world had not seen its equal over many years. ―Their fame has gone forth unto the ends of the earth.‖ That is true; the call of the Faith has gone forth unto the bounds of the earth—unto the bounds of the earth the kingdom of God expands. ―Cor Pauli cor mundi,” these are the words inscribed beneath the maps on which St. Paul’s missionary journeys are traced. ―Cor Ecclesiae. Cor totius orbis terrarum,‖ ―The heart of the Church embraces the whole world.‖ This is the story of the Mission Exhibition. Cardinals, Princes, Bishops, priests, and long processions of devout pilgrims move backwards and forwards through the rooms of the Exhibition. How that sight must have stirred their hearts!

The eyes of a young Roman lad lit up when he saw such evidence of great heroism in the missions. And then he thought: ―It has all been done already, nothing remains for us to do.‖ These words express something like the fear of the young Alexander that his father had left him no more worlds to conquer.

This childish remark brings sorrow to the heart of one who knows the actual facts. Sorrow and the feeling of responsibility mingle with joy in today’s mission festival. And the Church wants us to ponder on such thoughts as these. In spite of all the great success that has been and of the even greater efforts that are being made, only a very small part of the enormous work to be done has yet been completed. You know the figures, I think: of the 16 or 17 hundred million in the world, over 1000 million are non-Catholics that is, heathens, Mohammedans and Jews. And of the 650 million Christians, only one half belongs to the True Church.

Thousands of millions—numbers are cold and speechless, but the distress which such figures conceal cries out the louder. Great numbers, it is true, are saved from paganism through the inexhaustible mercy and grace of God. But we may not and can not forget the heartrending misery and the frightful danger which lurk beneath these figures. In his Mission Encyclical, our Holy Father Pius XI has thefollowing words: ―As long as God in His Divine Providence shall permit us to look upon the light of this world, so long shall we carefully and anxiously fulfil this part of Our Apostolic office. We are continually pondering on the fact that there are still a thousand million heathens, and Our heart finds no rest. It is as if We heard in the depths of Our soul that striking command: ‗Call to them and do not weary. Raise up thy voice like a trumpet!‖’ A thousand million heathens—may these figures strike fire in our hearts.

I do not know whether you have heard the frightful story of that desperate young Japanese student. It is typical of a thousand others. If you want to realise the full meaning of the phrase, ―a thousand million heathens,‖ you should keep this fact before your eyes while you read it.

It is in Japan, the land of the rising sun. The fragrant life of spring abounds. The Kegon waterfall springs down from a high rock. Prayers and hymns are wafted over from the nearby Buddhist sanctuary, Nikko. At the foot of the rushing waterfall a young man is lying. His limbs are shattered. He is couched among the dewy grasses and crowned with the flowers of spring. The paleness of death is covered over with cherry blossoms. That young human life was extinguished by the terrible leap into the depths from the brink of the rock above. They found cut into the smooth bark of a cypress nearby a few words giving an account of the young suicides life and of the motives for his action. He was a Japanese university student. He had begun to lose faith in the gods of his fathers, and modern European paganism had then driven him to the last stages of despair. Hundreds followed him in the next months and made the death leap.

That is the history of a single man. Do you understand that this is typical of a thousand million heathens? Each of these thousand million human lives has its story. Truly, an appalling number share the plight of unredeemed humanity, unredeemed from the curse and the yoke of sin.

But you may say: ―Do I not find the same thing when I take up a German newspaper- -sorrow and misery everywhere? What need have we to go to Africa or the Far East? Our pagan mission is so near. Indeed, we live among heathens!‖ Certainly, and yet the distress in the mission countries is still incomparably greater than in our capital cities. In Christian Europe each one of goodwill can find the safe way to heaven through the Church. There crosses greet one by the wayside; the bells ring out; the Church invites all to come to the knowledge of the true faith and through it to be saved. The Sacraments and the means of salvation are at the disposal of everybody. The call of grace goes out to all.

Conditions in pagan countries are vastly different. There, millions of men still live who never learn anything of Christ and of salvation through Him. And the number of priests is so small that it is impossible to teach the majority even the fundamental truths of religion. How difficult it is for these poor souls to attain salvation without the true Catholic faith!

There lies the mission duty of the Church. She must preach the Gospel to every nation, she must offer salvation to every creature. That is the meaning of Christ’s mission command with its solemn obligation: ―Go into the whole world and teach all nations.‖

Even though she suffers and is in great need at home, the Church must be missionary. She knows the great mystery of Christianity: ―Whoever will save his life shall lose it, and whoever shall lose his life for My sake shall save it.‖ She knows that if she makes sacrifices for the missions, then she grows in the homeland. The more sacrifices she makes, and is allowed to make, so much the more is God’s blessing with her, and so much the more vigorously does she show forth the spirit of Christ, of the Good Shepherd who came to restore and save what was lost: ―Semen vocationum. est missio Apostolorurn,” ―the sending forth of Apostles is seed of new vocations.‖ If hundreds of missioners journey to distant countries, God sends the Church thousands and thousands of new priests and apostles in return. How short—sighted is the anxious care of many for the homeland! As if ever a country would have suffered harm through enthusiasm for the missions. Cardinal Manning once remarked at the foundation of a mission house: ―Certainly we have great need ourselves of men and means, but that for me is precisely a reason for sending money and men on the missions. The sacrifice will redound to the good of the Church at home.‖

And still another serious motive urges the Church today to pledge all her strength in the work of the missions. Christian Europe through her missioners must pay a debt that presses heavily on its conscience. It must make good again that in which it has sinned and still sins today among pure and blameless races. Just think of the negroes whom the white dealers have enslaved by the thousands—of the Indians who have perished in cruel civil war, owing to the presence of Europeans dividing the loyalty of the natives—of the people of Asia who for hundreds of years were sacrificed to an unscrupulous, exploiting policy. Still greater have been the spiritual evils. Europeans flooded these nations with the filth of a corrupted culture, introduced the frightful gifts of modern economic systems, Capitalism and Socialism, and taught them a disruptive neo-pagan philosophy. Yet, just think, what were the obligations of Europe to the world, of a Europe that was Christian? Is it not high time to make reparation for the sins of our fathers and brothers? Is it not only just to sacrifice our all and to devote all our strength to the missions?

This letter has become a little serious for the beautiful time of Christmas. And yet it is a real Christmas letter. The need of the thousand million pagans, if you consider it rightly, is nothing else than the tearful uplifting of their hands in prayer, or the expectant gaze of their longing eyes to the Child in the crib, Who brings peace on earth to men of good—will.

If you listen to the Heart of the Divine Child in the crib you will find that It beats for no other reason than the salvation of all the children of men.

H. DUMOULIN, S.J

(V.)

THE YOUNG MISSIONARY. For the Feast of the Purification of Our Lady.

Dear Jim,

Today the Church is celebrating at Candlemas a festive mystery from the youth of Our Lord, and so it will be very suitable if I tell you something about the youth of a young missionary.

The Church sings gaily and merrily, ―Lumen ad revelationem gentium,‖ ―a light for the revelation of the Gentiles.‖ Mary bears her little Child to the temple in order that He might be offered to the Lord. And this Child is ―the light of the world,‖ the only true light ―which enlighteneth every man that comes into the world.‖ A share in this light is for all those who ought to shine like Him as the Light of the world, for all apostles and missionaries in whose life the love of God, truth and holiness ought to radiate upon the earth.

―A light for the revelation of the Gentiles‖—and, there stands before the monastery door a young novice who brings with him absolutely nothing but a little good—will and his holy vocation. But already a light is burning in this future missionary. The grace of vocation has lit it in him. True, this little light is yet but weak and tiny; it has not the brightness, the heat, nor the power to radiate. A great deal must happen before the novice becomes the missionary, or the apostle of the Gentiles. But Mary, whose intercession has won the grace of vocation and who has protected the feeble glow and brought it into the sanctuary of the noviceship, now takes the young missioner under her special protection. The wonderful care with which she watched over the early years of the Son of God in Nazareth, she now exercises again in the life of the future Apostle.

It is difficult to say what Mary means in the life of the young missionary. Almost everything! She strengthens and deepens his vocation: she maintains his lofty ideals: she makes his troubles light: she gives him vigour as he grows up. The way in which a young missioner develops under her mantle is indeed a joyous thing. There is joy in his heart; his powers and faculties increase; the whole youth grows and develops strength for his task. In this way, Mary having once won the grace of vocation now gives her gifts in all their fulness. The law of grace in the Kingdom of God states: ―He that hath, to him shall be given, and he shall abound.‖ The vocation itself is only the first, the foundation grace. Whoever follows it may rest assured of more to come. Provided he remain faithful he will become a genuine missionary. God takes care that His apostles are well equipped. The young missioner no longer belongs to himself; he belongs to his holy vocation, the mission.

You may like to hear something more and, in particular, about the early years of a missioner. The Church sends diocesan clergy and religious to the missions. The different Orders and Congregations in their turn, send priests and laybrothers. Moreover, there are many excellent societies of mission Sisters. The training of priests in the diocesan seminary and of those in the various Orders, though differing in detail, is the same in the essential lines of Catholic priest formation. From both go forth able and qualified missioners.

As an introduction, I will tell you today about the training of the young Jesuit missioner.

First, something in general. The Society of Jesus has a saintly mission tradition Right from the early days of their first fathers, St. Ignatius and St. Francis Xavier, a vigorous missionary enthusiasm prevailed among the young Jesuits. It was deeply founded in the ideal and the spirit of the Order. The Rector of the Scholasticate of Coimbra, one of the earliest houses of Study of the Society, announced in a letter of the sixteenth century: ―The whole college is set on going to the Indies.‖ That enthusiasm for the missions has remained until the present day. The Society of Jesus still sends the greatest number of missionaries to heathen countries, more than any other Order or Society. The Jesuit esteems it a great favour to be allowed to go on the mission; a favour indeed not granted to all who ask for it. But that need not deter anyone who enters the Society of Jesus animated with missionary zeal. By the very fact of his reception, he will he assured of being sent on the mission, as long as no extraordinary difficulties arise. (By a decree of the General Congregation.)

Missionary zeal and a high esteem for the missions have always been manifest in the Society of Jesus. Indeed, her best members have at all times repeatedly longed for this work and put themselves at the disposal of Superiors for it. Of the Society’s canonised saints many are missioners. The ardent desire of her two youthful saints Aloysius and John Berchmans was that they might be allowed to go on the missions. Thus the young Jesuit finds himself in the presence of the real mission spirit in the noviceship. What is the noviceship? What do these two years mean to the coming missioner? It is a happy time during which the foundations of a saintly priestly life are laid in prayer and all kinds of useful occupations. In the formation of the missionary these two years are all important. His most important work is to live Christianity among the pagans. He must, first and foremost, be a deeply spiritual and holy priest. Only then will his preaching and his labours be of any value. Only then will he be able to hope for a fruitful apostolate. St. Paul, the great model of all missionaries to pagan lands, made a three years’ novitiate in the desert of Arabia. That ought to console many a young fiery soul who longs to be out converting the heathens before his time. At theend of the Jesuit’s noviceship come the vows, the everlasting union with Our Lord in poverty, chastity and obedience.

Philosophical and theological studies follow seven years in all. These studies are necessary, for the missioner has not merely to learn a foreign language in order to complete his formation and be able to begin his apostolic work. Our best and most important missions are among the cultured eastern races. They require just as much learning and knowledge as would be necessary in the homeland. He must make himself familiar with the philosophical systems of Asia, and be armed against the errors of Protestantism, which are spread far and wide by the numberless sects. It is of the highest importance that our missioners be well grounded intellectually. The blame for the slow progress of the missions in many places in Asia should certainly he attributed to the fact that insufficient importance has been given to the period of formation. These considerations explain the seven years’ study and show the importance of this period. It is already indeed working for the missions.

It is a cause of special joy that even during this time much can be done by way of direct preparation for the efficiency of the future work. Working and sacrificing for the cause is always the best way to maintain zeal and enthusiasm. The seven years provide plenty of time for acquiring a thorough knowledge of the language of the future mission area, and this, in turn, opens up the way to an understanding of the spirit and the culture of the country. Learning the language is not, as many indeed think, the most important and the most difficult thing in the training. Admittedly it is a job that must be done, and can often become very tiring, but, on the whole, this study of language is a source of joy. I think that if you were to ask a veteran missionary about it, he would certainly not wish to have been without his difficulties in this matter. The labours are not comparable to the fruit they produce.

I still have to tell you about the final stages of the young missionary’s development, about his ordination to the priesthood. But words are poor and meaningless things to describe it. A lifetime would not suffice to think out all that it means to he a priest, and day by day to offer His only begotten Son in Sacrifice to the Living God. As a priest the missionary goes forth to pagan lands, an intermediary between God and man, a vessel of grace and election. . . .

I have told you enough now about the life of the young missionary. You may think perhaps that I have described it all in rosy colours. Certainly, so I have! For in actual fact the formation period of the young missionary is a bright and happy time. From the first moment that he becomes conscious of his vocation he is as happy as the day is long. In the heart of a young man preparing to become a missionary a great love is burning, the love of Christ and the love of souls. St. Paul describes it in a letter he wrote to the Christians at Corinth. This love ―beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things.‖ It is the secret of the missionary’s youth.

H. DUMOULIN, S.J

(VI)

THE MYSTERY OF THE CROSS Passion Sunday.

Dear Jim,

On the feast day of Christ the King Our Lord unfurled His mission banner. You have taken your stand beneath it, and now it is waving above you.

The life and death of St. Francis Xavier have already shown you the greatness of the apostle’s sacrifice. And now today, Passion Sunday; the King’s banner bears in blood red letters: ―The Mystery of the Cross.‖ The Cross is the most profound and the most important fact in the life of the missionary. We must give a little time to considering it.

It often seems to people a very foolish thing that the young missionary should leave his mother, father and country, and should renounce all his prospects for the future in order to go to a foreign land. They cannot understand why he should journey to an unknown people with a strange language and strange customs, In order to lead a life of hard work and self denial, and finally to find a lonely grave in a foreign soil. Yes, foolishness it is: the folly of the Cross, a secret hidden from the wise ones of this world. The missionary’s life is founded on this folly; it is the Mystery of the Cross that explains his life.

If you want to become a genuine missionary you must thoroughly understand the mystery of the Cross. You must examine it closely, embrace it lovingly; it is the spring of grace for your life’s work. As a missionary you live the mystery of the Cross in your own life and death. You co-operate with it, and in it you find your happiness.

―I will show him how great things he must suffer for My name’s sake.‖ These words are found right at the beginning of a missionary’s life. Our Lord used them to call St. Paul to be the Apostle of the Gentiles. He uses them still today in the vocation of any missionary. . ―Unless the grain of wheat falleth into the ground and dieth, itself remaineth alone; but if it dieth, it bringeth forth much fruit.‖ The missionary must die in many ways if he is to have the power to work for souls and to bring them to God. He must die in order that Christ may live in him. Our Lord leads him on from sacrifice to sacrifice until all self-will and all self-love are dead in him. This death to self begins early in his life-in the sacrifices he must make of the ties that bind him to family and to friends, in the trials of the long period of formation. Sufferings of many kinds follow in the distant pagan country, the cross, perhaps of failure; the cross of the continuous sacrifice of his heart whose dearest wishes remain unfulfilled. His heart must be immolated until the time comes when it has no desires of its own and seeks nothing but the greater glory of God.

The grain of wheat dies and brings forth much fruit. In the same way, the sacrifices which the missionary makes are the blessings of the mission. ―The blood of martyrs is the seed of Christians.‖ The mystery of grace in the Kingdom of God is the mystery of martyrdom—and so it is, too, on the missions. That is why all our mission countries must drink deep of the blood of martyrs; that is why today, too, every true missionary must be a martyr—at least in his heart.

The missionary cooperates in the mystery of the Cross. Today, Passion Sunday, the crosses are veiled in the Church. On Good Friday, when they are unveiled, the priest says: ―Behold the wood of the Cross, on which hung the salvation of the world!‖ The missionary’s task is to bring salvation to the world and absolution from the guilt of sin. He can do it in no other way than by pointing directly to the crucifix: ―Behold the wood of the Cross‖ and by cleansing souls in the Blood of the Son of God, the Lamb that was crucified for the sins of the world. In a letter to the new Christians of Corinth, St. Paul wrote:. ―And I, brethren, when I came to you, came not in loftiness of speech or of wisdom, declaring unto you the testimony of Christ. For I judged not myself to know anything among you, but Jesus Christ and Him crucified.‖ The missionary does not look upon himself as the ―bearer of a culture‖ or as one who brings high ―spiritual advancement‖; he knows he is simply the preacher of the Cross of Christ.

Still more closely does the missionary share in the sacrifice of the Cross. He cooperates in the salvation of the world. He must become by his own sufferings a co-redeemer. ―I fill up the things that are wanting of the Passion of Christ,‖ as St. Paul wrote. Not as though Christ’s work of redemption was not completely accomplished. Nor does he mean that Our Lord’s Cross did not fully atone for our sins, or that it did not cause to spring up an inexhaustible source of divine grace. In the Blood of Christ every man of every age is redeemed. But it is for the apostle and the missionary to make the grace of redemption bear fruit, so that it will bring all men to salvation. Therefore, the Apostle of the Nations writes ―Grace has not remained idle in me.‖

The missionary sacrifices himself and suffers in the same way, in order that grace may not remain idle but may do its work. Christ accomplished the sacrifice for our salvation once and for all on the Cross; He wants to renew it in every apostle and missionary. That is the meaning of the words which the priest says every morning at Mass: ―Offerimus,‖ ―We offer to Thee.‖

Every missionary knows that he depends upon the Cross for the success of his work. That is why he really desires to suffer and to make sacrifices. St. Francis Xavier in Japan and in India prayed through the long nights before a picture of Our Lord crucified, with a holy desire for suffering: ―Let me suffer more and still more, 0 Lord.‖ He knew that souls are saved above all through suffering and prayer; the overflowing happiness that missionaries find in their sufferings. This is the crowning point of the mystery of the Cross. It is very difficult for us poor children of men to understand, so much so that we would not believe it if the saints did not speak of it over and over again, and if it did not so frequently reappear in letters from missionaries. Let us see what St. Francis Xavier says about it in his letters. From Goa he wrote to his brethren in Rome: ―If we suffer these hardships on behalf of those for whom we ought to suffer them, they are a source of great comfort and a motive for much great consolation. How happy is our life when we die to ourselves daily, make war on our own inclinations and seek not our own but the things of Jesus Christ!‖

In another of Francis’ letters from the pearl fishery coast, the goal of one of his hardest missionary journeys involving the greatest self-denial, we read the following words: ―I know nothing else to write to you about concerning this part of the world except that the consolations, which God our Lord gives to those who live among the pagans and bring them to the faith of Christ, are so great that if there is any true joy in this life it is to be found here.

0, if a student seeking satisfaction in a knowledge of science, were to seek it in bringing his neighbours to a knowledge of those things which are really necessary—to know God and to serve Him; how much more happily would he live and how much better prepared would be find himself when he hears Christ summon him, ―Give an account of thy stewardship!‖

God grants His missionaries abundant joy in their sufferings so that they may be contented and happy men. They have to show the poor pagans that the Christianity which they preach is a happy religion, and that in it salvation and peace of soul are to be found.

But now, is it right to compose a long letter to a young missionary and talk only about the Cross? Won’t the hard, rough realities of life come only too soon? What right have I to check the enthusiasm of youth? St. Francis Xavier himself shall justify my letter. He once wrote: ―I am afraid that some missionaries come from Spain with enthusiasm for the difficult call of the missions, and then when a storm blows up at sea, they would prefer to see themselves safe in the Society at Coimbra rather than on a ship. There is a certain kind of enthusiasm which wanes long before they reach India!’

I am glad that I have written this letter to you. I know it will not make you sad. Rather, the genuine enthusiasm of your young heart will thrive on it. You will accept with more determination and overcome with greater courage your daily crosses and sacrifices. You will cling with an even greater love to the Cross of Christ, and you will pray that its mystery may be more and more clearly revealed to you.

In the half year that has just passed God’s graces have flowed in their fulness upon you; they have enriched you and brought you happiness. Your determination remains steadfast: you want to be a missionary. Before you lies a life that God will bless and render fruitful. God has bestowed on you the grace of a missionary vocation. You have now only to be faithful to complete the work.

The grace of a vocation brings with it a serious responsibility. You know well yourself how many a one has received the call of Christ and responded generously in his first wild enthusiasm. And yet he has never reached the goal, never made the noble decision proposed to him by the grace of God. Difficulties cropped up: the vocation involved sacrifice; enthusiasm waned. . . . He could have been a real missionary, but he did not make the effort. He looked back to the beckoning pleasures of the world; he looked for honour and glory. What was lacking to complete his vocation was that he was unwilling. He did not cooperate, and so grace remained dead and unproductive.

You will have to make many dark hours, too. You will have to make many a sacrifice before you reach the goal which seems just now so bright and clear to you. She, whose beautiful Feast we celebrate under the title, Our Lady Mediatrix of all Graces, guarantees that for you . . .

- H. DUMOULIN, S.J.

Nihil Obstat:

F. Moynihan

Censor Deputatus.

Imprimatur:

@ D. Mannix

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis

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The Triple Crown

SAINT ROBERT SOUTHWELL, S.J

INDEX

POET, PRIEST, MARTYR

INTEREST IN THE ENGLISH MARTYRS HAS PROBABLY NEVER BEEN GREATER THAN IT IS AT THE MOMENT, AND HOPES FOR THEIR CANONIZATION RUN HIGH. AMONG THAT BAND OF HEROIC SOULS WHO PASSED, AS ONE OF THEM PUT IT, “THROUGH THE TERRIBLE ‘RED SEA’ OF DEATH” WERE MEN AND WOMEN OF EVERY CONDITION OF LIFE: MARRIED AND UNMARRIED, LAYFOLK AND RELIGIOUS, SECULAR PRIESTS AND PRIESTS OF A VARIETY OF RELIGIOUS ORDERS, MEMBERS OF THE NOBILITY AND COMMONFOLK. ALL OF THEM DIED, ULTIMATELY, FOR THE UNITY OF THE CHURCH WHICH GIVES THEIR BLOOD A VOICE OF APPEAL TO WHICH OUR DAY, MORE THAN ANY OTHER SINCE THEIR DEATH, IS PREPARED TO LISTEN. ALL OF THOSE WHO DIED SPOKE OUR LANGUAGE AND WERE FORMED IN A WAY OF LIFE FROM WHICH OUR OWN DERIVES- WHICH GIVES US AN UNDERSTANDING OF, AND A NEARNESS TO THEM WHICH IS, PERHAPS, NOT SO EASILY CAPTURED IN REGARD TO OTHER SAINTS.

To represent this varied band, we have chosen St. Robert Southwell, Poet, Priest and Martyr. As a martyr he reminds us that what has drawn these so diverse men and women into a single band, united among themselves and separated from their contemporaries, is their common death in a common cause; as a priest he reminds us that it was around the very survival of the priesthood and the Sacrifice it offers that the conflict principally raged; as a poet he has not only enriched our literature but was able to give moving expression to the hopes and fears that like a fever shook the whole Catholic body of his day.

FAMILY FORTUNES

The fortunes of the Southwell family were firmly based on the spoils of Henry VIII’s dissolution of the monasteries-the Benedictine priory at Horsham in Norfolk (ironically enough, called St. Faith’s) going to “the King’s true servant,” Sir Richard Southwell. Time was when the young Richard appeared to be anything but the King’s true servant, for he faltered in his duty as false accuser of St. Thomas More. He redeemed himself, however, by playing this role successfully in the case of the Earl of Surrey, the poet. This latter’s grandson, St. Philip Howard, Earl of Arundel, was later to be supported in his long imprisonment by Sir Richard’s own grandson, St. Robert Southwell.

NEW MEN, WEALTH

Thus Sir Richard early learnt that in those days of new men and new wealth a too-sensitive conscience could leave a man impoverished, nay, impoverish him still further. Morals gave way to means. It is no surprise, therefore, to find him married to an heiress for the continuence of the family fortunes, but preferring his wife’s cousin as the mother of his children for the continuance of the family itself. He married her off to an already married dependant against the day when, his wife being dead, he would convict his henchman of bigamy, and marry his children’s mother, having by her a last daughter. In these philanderings we find the very human agency for the fulfillment of the so-called “Monks’ Curse,” supposed to fall on anyone who profited from the destruction of the monasteries. For, within a few years of St. Robert’s death, litigation between the legitimate and illegitimate branches of the family soon reduced the family fortunes to a mere shadow of their former substance.

CONFORMING FAMILY

With the restoration of Catholicism under Queen Mary, the Southwell family conformed gracefully enough, as they did later again in the changed circumstances under Queen Elizabeth. They did, it is true, even then retain a Marian priest as a sign of their attachment to the old ways, but he was not called to upset their accommodating consciences.

The father of the future martyr, Richard Southwell, conformed to the new religion. Not so his aunts, daughters of old Sir Richard, who have the distinction of being considered “very dangerous” by the informers among Walsingham’s network of spies.

THE THIRD SON

Robert, his father’s third son, was born towards the end of 1561, and even as a child achieved a certain amount of local fame. While still an infant in the cradle he was stolen by a gypsy beguiled, as she confessed on being overtaken by the swift pursuit which followed, by the child’s beauty. This was not mere flattery designed to soften whatever blows the irate father might have been disposed to deliver. Later, on the continent, Robert was generally referred to as “the beautiful English youth”; and at his trial, his fresh and youthful appearance was still so marked (despite years of imprisonment and 10 cruel rackings) that he was referred to (contemptuously it is true, but that is not the point) as the “boy priest.” He was, in fact, then close on 33 years of age.

This kidnapping deeply impressed Robert, told of it no doubt a thousand times by his nurse. Later on, in his spiritual diary, he was to picture what his ready imagination presented to him as the probable outcome of this adventure had he not betimes been rescued. He is listing the more signal mercies shown by God:

What if I had remained with the vagrant? How abject! How destitute of the knowledge or reverence of God! In what debasement of vice, in what great perils of crimes, in what indubitable risk of a miserable death and eternal punishment I would have been!

In so sensitive and courteous a soul as his, it was but natural that gratitude to God for his rescue should have included gratitude to the old maidservant whose timely discovery of the kidnapping led to his being recovered. Her he sought out on his first arriving as a priest in England many years later and rewarded her in the way he knew best-reconciling her to the ancient Faith and providing for all the need of her old age.

HIS NICKNAME

For some obscure reason, Robert’s father gave him the nickname “Father Robert.” It is difficult to suggest a plausible reason why. It was certainly not that his father had destined him for the Church; priests were literally a dying race in Elizabethan England. Moreover, Robert was later to remind his father of this nickname, pointing out that in giving it to him he had spoken more truly than he knew. It may have meant no more than that Robert was rather fond of the old monastery of St. Faith-his father had not yet sold it as he was later forced to do. It had also been suggested that the prophetic nickname referred to the quiet gravity of his disposition. It may be so; but certain it is that he was not always quiet nor always grave. Emulating, no doubt, the indominable spirit of that aunt of his whom he so much admired, he was caught out in some rather indiscreet irreverances uttered about the Queen’s regime, and, at the age of 14, found himself carpeted before the, by now, thoroughly inquisitorial Court of Star Chamber. It was high time to leave England.

ILLEGAL DEPARTURE

This step, which Robert took in 1576, was not one to be advertised as it was quite illegal. Consequently, how and from what point of the coast he departed for the continent is still a matter for conjecture. A poem he wrote in later life suggests that between the decision to go and the going there was little lapse of time-not even time to return to bid farewell to his mother and the ancestral home. For in the poem, “On the Loss of the Child,” Our Lady complains:

How couldst thou go some other where to dwell

And make no stay to bid her once farewell?

The next two years of his life, 1576–1578, were spent attending the Jesuit school at Douai, with six months in Paris. During this period, he several times asked to be admitted into the Society of Jesus. He was deferred each time; perhaps because of some fear that his rather impressionable temperament did not fit him for the life, or perhaps because the unsettled condition of that part of Europe at the time made the future so uncertain. Probably, it was a combination of both circumstances.

JESUIT NOVICE

Like St. Stanislaus Kostka before him, he set out for Rome to obtain there what had been denied him elsewhere, and was admitted into the novitiate of the Order on 17 October, 1578, shortly before his seventeenth birthday. The two years noviceship ended with his taking vows in 1580-the year in which St. Edmund Campion and Fr. Robert Parsons left to begin their heroic mission in England.

The landing of Parsons and Campion in England was, indeed, portentous of a new phase in the struggle of Catholicism for survival in England; and tales of accompanying portents on land and in the sky gained easy credance. Ever since, the shadowy figure of Parsons (enigmatic even to the understanding of many Catholics) has stood as the very incarnation of the jesuitical Jesuit; while Campion, in the blaze of his own glory and the aura of his martyrdom, is a glowing symbol of all the English Martyrs. “Jewel of England” as Elizabeth called him, his meteoric career flashed with a fiery brilliance. His elegance of person and urbanity of manner, his brilliance of mind and keenness of wit, the holy swagger of his Brag made him a legend even in his own lifetime.

Southwell was cast in a different mould. Sensitive, even excessively so, and retiring, he lived surrounded by an air more of dedication to sacrifice than by the zest which characterized Campion. He was a lamb led to the slaughter where Campion was an eagle.

ORDINATION

The years 1580 to 1585 Robert spent in study and in teaching at the English College, being ordained in 1584. During that period, the College passed through one of its great crises when disaffection (nor the least of it being fomented by sabateurs planted there by Cecil) threatened the extinction of this creation of the genial Pope Gregory XIII. His leisure moments (too few for the task as his superiors eventually pointed out) were spent in compiling and publishing a regular news-letter of the heroic exploits of the Jesuits already in England-their extraordinary escapades and escapes, the good accomplished, the tortures endured, the crowns of martyrdom gained. Not the least exalted but probably the least exultant reader of these news-sheets was Cecil himself, to whom they were regularly sent by his satellites in Rome.

THE ENGLISH MISSION

In 1586, Father Robert sought and obtained leave to go himself to the English mission from the Father General of the time, Claude Aquaviva. A man like Southwell was sadly needed in England at the time. Campion, four of his confreres and five secular priests, former pupils of the Jesuits in Rome, were already gloriously dead. With the death of these brilliant and cultured, as well as holy, men, the English Catholics were being starved not only of the Mass and the Sacraments and instruction in their Faith, but also of a native Catholic Literature. To them, no one could be more welcome than Father Southwell, priest and poet.

FATHER WESTON

In the years between Campion’s martyrdom and Southwell’s arrival in 1586, the most glamorous figure in the English arena was Father William Weston, a man of great holiness and zeal with a positive genius for escaping from awkward situations. He was eventually to die peacefully in Spain; but meanwhile, in England, he endured 17 years imprisonment, including four years solitary confinement in the Tower. One of the greatest services he did the Catholics in England was to save Southwell and his companion, Fr. Henry Garnet, later martyred, from immediate capture on their arrival.

Father Weston is chiefly remembered for the alarming frequency with which he, for a few years, performed exorcisms-to the great distress of the Catholics and the delighted ridicule of the Protestants. Misguided though his practice was, exorcism was then the universal remedy for afflictions whose cause, being unknown, was readily attributed to the devil-especially as the illnesses were in no way physical, but were what we would now call hysteria, mental derangement, obsessions and the rest. Besides, as Father Weston himself said, “Something had to be attempted as much for the sake of those who suffered the affliction as from compassion towards the persons who had them in their houses.” What he had in mind was the great likelihood of such sufferers’ being hunted down and burnt as witches.

ARRIVAL IN ENGLAND

The ship on which Fathers Garnet and Southwell sailed for England weighed anchor at two o’clock in the morning. Shortly after sunrise, off a lonely stretch of the coast between Dover and Folkstone, the ship’s boat was lowered. Robert Southwell was back in England.

To their dismay, they saw their landing being observed with great interest by a man on the high bluff above the beach. He was however, as Father Garnet wrote, “some sort of shepherd and a very honest fellow. He described to us at great length the places round about and the right way to get to them; and he assured us that he felt towards us as if we were his own kith and kin, and this he affirmed with a great oath. So our first adventure was a merry one.”

Southwell, too, was soon writing back to Rome:

“At the Queen’s Court they say there is a business in hand which, if it succeeds, will mean ruin for us; but if it fails, all will be well. To the Catholics, however, these are but bugs to frighten children; for they are driven so far already that there is no room left for further cruelty.”

As was so often the case with Southwell’s observations on the times, these words were a very apt description of the tortuous Babington conspiracy that was even then on the point of bursting wide open. How wrong he was in the second opinion he later learned by personal experience when he endured repeated rackings-each of which, he wrote, was worse than death.

Within a month of Southwell’s arrival in England, the Babington conspiracy broke; and Southwell, from the crowd at the foot of the gallows, gave absolution to the first of the butchered.

IN DAILY PERIL

In another letter to his Superior in Rome, Robert has left us a brief but comprehensive picture of his life at this time. “I am devoting myself to sermons, hearing confessions and other priestly duties: hemmed in by daily perils, never safe for a moment.” Dramatic escapes from those human bloodhounds, the persuivants, became a common occurrence; but it was a unique experience to spend an entire week hidden in a priest’s hiding-place (those secret cells so artfully constructed in the wall or under the fireplaces of the great houses) while the persuivants took up residence and searched the place at their leisure.

Not the least important aspect of this subjection to constant stress through ever-present danger was the maturing effect it had on Robert’s own character. In the letter he wrote to Rome from the other side of the Channel when on the point of departing for England there is a note which may not be too strongly described as slightly hysterical. This edge of Europe he calls “death’s ante-room.” It is understandable, of course. He was, after all, not yet 25 years of age, only two years a priest, endowed with a highly sensitive nature and a vivid imagination, and was facing an adventure of enormous consequence. More, he was facing a certain and horrible death: not for nothing was Father General Aquaviva whose sadly heroic duty it was to send priests to the English Mission known in Rome as Lambs-to-the-slaughter Aquaviva. And St. Philip Neri, meeting students from the English College in Rome, would greet them with the first line of the Church’s hymn to the Holy Innocents: “Hail, flowers of martyrdom.”

Under the stress of danger, then, this characteristic in Robert disappears; but never the desire for martyrdom to which he aspired with a calm humility as the supreme opportunity of showing his great love for Christ who first died for love of him.

COUNTESS OF ARUNDEL

A cluster of houses in a quiet corner of London presented at that time a miniature of the whole of England. There were to be found the great Protestant houses-that of the Earl of Leicester, Cecil House, Somerset House, and in the midst of them the house of the unhappy, staunchly Catholic, Countess of Arundel. Her husband, St. Philip Howard, still languished in the tower from which he was to find release only in death. The Countess, under the influence of St. Robert, threw off the too-personal grief which had hitherto enveloped her, and took more to heart the plight of the whole Catholic body of England. She invited Robert to live in her house in the midst of the enemy camp. So there came about a situation possible only in a persecuted country. The false witness of Southwell’s grandfather had sent Howard’s grandfather to the gallows. Wiser than their fathers, the sons, poets both, gave each other all they had: Howard his house to Southwell, Southwell the power of his priesthood and his literary talent to Howard.

THE AUTHENTIC CHURCH

One of the great tasks of the mission in England was to ensure the continuity of the Church there with that first planted by St. Augustine of Canterbury. If ever the persecution were relaxed, the Church must be in a position to emerge from the catacombs of England as a newly blossoming native growth, not as an exotic transplant from foreign places. It must emerge as the authentic Church of the English tradition and, in its externals, clothed with an English The Authentic Church

THE POET

Since the printing presses of Parson and Campion had been hunted down and destroyed, there had been no native Catholic literature in England; and the beleaguered Catholic body was being starved not only of the life of grace, but also of the graces of intellectual and cultural life. The time was ripe for a repetition of Campion’s and Parson’s daring and invigorating experiment; and in the person of this talented poet there was on hand a worthy successor to Campion, one who could repeat, and perhaps surpass, the glories of the latter’s.

BRAG AND TEN REASONS

To obtain and install, without arousing the least suspicion, the presses, type and paper needed for the venture was a Herculean labour. But it was done. In 1587 Robert’s first work appeared: “An Epistle of Comfort for those restrained in Durance For the Catholic Faith.” It was written primarily for St. Philip Howard in whose house it was composed. It has been praised by critics for “its clarity and rhythmic beauty, glowing with piety like a stained-glass window”; and in it the glory of death and martyrdom is matched with solid controversy.

The murder about this time of Mary, Queen of Scots, gave rise to a poem on one of Robert’s favourite themes- “Decease, Release.” In it, the Queen is made to say:

Alive a Queen, now dead I am a Saint;

Once Mary called, my name now Martyr is;

From earthly reign debarred by restraint,

In lieu whereof I reign in heavenly bliss.

Rue not my death, rejoice at my repose;

It was no death to me but to my woe;

The bud was opened to let out the rose,

The chains unloosed to let the captive go.

At the same time, the rapidly maturing poet was writing newsletters to Rome containing remarkably accurate and shrewd interpretations of the political scene.

His literary brilliance and attractive personality soon drew to his side a group of brilliant young men from the Universities and the Inns of Court. From them he learnt what he gleefully transmitted to his old friend St. Robert Bellarmine that the undergraduates at the Universities judged the success or failure of their ministers’ sermons by whether or not they had the good sense not to try to refute Bellarmine’s “Controversies.”

Robert soon had plenty of matter for his newsletters; for, following the much-desired failure of the Armada came 33 martyrdoms, including that of Blessed Margaret Ward-”a maid,” wrote Southwell, “among a thousand, in whose frail sex shone a courage hard to parallel.”

MISSIONARY TOURS

Meanwhile, the dangers of too-long continued residence in any one place and the needs of the Catholics throughout the country sent Robert on missionary tours of England. In them, the desire for Martyrdom,. grown too vehement through the introspection pandered to by long confinement in the Arundal house, was moderated to a more controlled resignation.

Over these years, while Robert went about his priestly work, there had been rising to ever greater power the most notorious of the persuivants-Topcliffe, who had performed such sterling service in his chosen profession that he was permitted to maintain in his own house a private rack “for the more convenient examination of prisoners.” It was a variety of rack known as the manacles, and improved on its predecessors in two ways: it was far more painful, and yet left no visible wound or dislocation that would advertise the agony that had been endured upon it. Consequently, when at his “trial” Southwell protested against the barbarity of his torture, Topcliffe was able to challenge him to show the court the scars. “Ask a woman to show her throes,” Southwell replied. Into the hands of this savage examiner and to the tender mercies of the manacles Robert was soon to be committed.

PROCLAMATION

But before that, he had a final task to perform. In 1591 there appeared from the Queen’s Council a pamphlet called the Proclamation, consisting in the main of a diatribe against priests and Jesuits. In an attempt to rally again the patriotism that had flashed out on the occasion of the Armada, this Proclamation announced that the King of Spain and the Pope were busy at work preparing a new invasion of England. The forerunners of this invasion were the priests who were secretly at work in England. It was hoped, apparently, that a feeling of patriotism might succeed in doing what the persecution was signally failing to do.

Southwell’s answer to the Proclamation was entitled An Humble Supplication, and was addressed to his “Best-beloved Princess,” Queen Elizabeth. The Proclamation, he said, was so coarsely written that he feared the Queen’s name was being abused in being attached to it. She was surely ignorant of it as he was sure she was ignorant of the barbaric tortures inflicted on prisoners in her name. He complained that every incident (even a fire or a quarrel between the apprentices and their employers) was laid at the door of Catholics, without the least pretence at a just investigation, and even when the real agents of the incidents were well known. In refuting the calumnies of the Proclamation, Southwell was wasting his time, for he was mistaken in believing the Queen was not a party to it.

SUPPLICATION

But the writing of the Supplication itself was not a futile expense of energy. By acknowledging freely the Queen’s temporal power, Southwell was able to reassure the Catholics that it was indeed for their faith that they were suffering, and was able to show the viciousness of the Act of 1585 on which they were condemned to death. He gave clear evidence that the Catholic body was not responsible for plots against the Queen’s life; that these were, in fact, anti-Catholic forgeries. A voice crying in the wilderness of those bloody times, he makes an impassioned plea for tolerance.

If nothing else, the Supplication is a great piece of literature, rising to powerful heights when he exposes and protests against the sufferings inflicted on Catholics, or when, with powerful imagination he confronts Elizabeth with all her kingly predecessors who, being Catholics, were liable to the same penalties as those her government was inflicting on her loyal subjects who “daily in our lives, and always at our executions, unfeignedly pray for your Majesty.” Robert was a priest, and as a priest he struggled for Elizabeth’s soul:

“If our due care of our country be such that, to rear the least fallen soul among your Majesty’s subjects from a fatal lapse, we are contented to pay our lives for the ransom: how much better should we think them bestowed, if so high a pennyworth as your gracious self, or the whole Realm, might be the gain of our dear purchase.”

DEATH WARRANT

But writing thus he was signing his own death warrant. The hunt for Southwell was intensified and, in the following year, 1592, he was taken. In February of that year, Fr. Garnet had written in desperation: “There is simply nowhere left to hide.” But it was not the thoroughness of the hunt that led to Southwell’s capture, but betrayal by a Catholic.

Among the many Catholic families to whom Southwell had ministered was that of the Bellamys in Middlesex. Their staunch adherence to the Faith was notorious, but the house seemed to bear a charmed existence and no priest was ever captured there.

One of the daughters of the house, Anne, a woman of 29, was committed to prison towards the end of January, and, soon afterwards, was found to be pregnant by Topcliffe. To cover his guilt, to capture Southwell and to provide an estate for the prison keeper (to whom he intended marrying Anne) Topcliffe wove a plot which would accomplish all three together. It proved successful at the cost of life to three men and two women, and the ruin of several others.

In June, Anne was sent back to her Father’s house from where she sent for Southwell to come in his capacity as a priest. Southwell duly arrived, said Mass and preached. He was to leave the following morning. At midnight the persuivants arrived, led by Topcliffe. With him was a young man named Fitzherbert who had offered Topcliffe three thousand pounds to eliminate all the members of the family who stood between him and the family estate. Three years later, Topcliffe was suing Fitzherbert for failure to keep the contract. Even in those days, stomachs were not strong enough for that, and it was the end of Topcliffe’s career-who rather ungraciously remarked that it was enough to make Father Southwell’s bones dance for joy.

ARREST

Realizing that the hunt was up, and to save his host’s property from destruction, Southwell left his hiding place and faced the old man. Topcliffe asked, “Who are you?” Southwell replied, “A gentleman.” This was one thing Topcliffe was not and he hurled a stream of abuse at Southwell, ending with the words, “Priest! Traitor! Jesuit!” “Ah,” replied Southwell mildly, “but that is what you have to prove.” In a fury, Topcliffe drew his sword and rushed upon Southwell, but was restrained by his henchmen. The arrest was made. “The Goliath of the Papists’ was taken to Topcliffe’s house, and the Queen heard the news “with unwonted merriment.”

TORTURE

In the few weeks that he was in the house, Southwell was put to the manacles 10 times. The pain is akin to that of crucifixion; and it is no surprise to hear him declare under oath that he would have found death preferable. The purpose of the torture was to obtain incriminating evidence against suspected Catholics. It failed dismally. Cecil, no sentimentalist, declared:

Let antiquity boast of its Roman heroes and the patience of captives in torments: our own age is not inferior to it, nor do the minds of the English cede to the Romans. There is at present confined one Southwell, a Jesuit, who. thirteen times most cruelly tortured, cannot be induced to confess anything, not even the colour of the horse whereon on a certain day he rode, lest from such indication his adversaries might conjecture in what house, or in company of what Catholics, he that day was.

IMPRISONMENT

Southwell was then transferred to the Gatehouse prison, where he had for his keeper the husband of the woman who had betrayed him. There for some weeks, exhausted and emaciated, he lay in his own filth, unable even to brush from his body .the maggots which swarmed upon him. By the end of July, his plight was such that his father (whom Robert had reconciled on his first coming to England) petitioned the Queen that he either suffer death if he were guilty of death, or else be better lodged. Southwell was therefore moved to the Tower, the Queen remembering, perhaps, that his mother had been a childhood friend of hers. Two and a half years of solitary confinement in the Tower, with the Bible and the works of St. Bernard as his only companions, were all that stood between Robert and his reward. They were long years to a man who had written:

Who lives in love loves least to live

And long delay doth rue

If Him he love by Whom he live

To Whom all love is due;

Who for our love did choose to live

And was content to die,

Who loved our love more than His life

And love with life did buy.

And again:

Not where I breathe but where I love, I live;

Not where I love but where I am, I die:

The life I wish must future glory give;

The death I feel in present dangers lie.

Without the Mass, without companions, Robert nevertheless had occasional visitors. The tough Lieutenant of the Tower was charmed by the gentleness and gaiety of his prisoner, and ever afterwards spoke of him as “the saint, that blessed Father.” On one occasion, St. Philip Howard’s pet dog strayed to his cell; Southwell gave the dog his blessing to carry back to his master. Less welcome guests were the members of the Privy Council who came again and again with their persistent questionings.

The thirty months that he lay in the Tower must have seemed an eternity to Southwell; and, indeed, there is little reason to suppose that they would have ended in any way but with his death in prison had not his own action provoked a different outcome. Southwell had learned patience, observing that Times go by Turns:

Not always fall of leaf nor ever spring,

Not endless night yet not eternal day;

The saddest birds a season find to sing,

The roughest storm a calm may soon allay;

Thus with succeeding turns God tempereth all,

That man may hope to rise yet fear to fall.

He had also learned to moderate his desire for martyrdom as long as he was performing a useful ministry with his writing, his secret press, his missionary journeys throughout England.

THE TRIAL

But now he seemed to be suspended midway between earth and heaven. He determined to win the one or the other; and in 1594 asked to be brought to trial, Cecil replied that if he was in so much haste to be hanged he should have his desire.

Fortified with the first cup of wine he had tasted in two years, and “decayed in memory” as he said “from long imprisonment,” he faced his judges to give one of those exhibitions of gaiety, wit, shrewdness and courage which the martyrs on trial invariably turned on for the benefit of the real jury, the people of England. Asked would he be tried “by God and your country,” Robert replied: “By God and by you; for I would not lay upon my country the guilt of my condemnation.” Asked his age he replied: “I think I am near the age of Our Saviour who lived upon earth thirty-three years.” Topcliffe could not appreciate the subtility of the answer, and accused Southwell of blasphemy, thereby unwittingly underlining the point of Southwell’s answer. Topcliffe’s interjections were unlucky; they gave Southwell the chance to raise the question of torture. Topcliffe blustered: “If he were racked, let me die for it.” “No,” replied Southwell,” but you have another kind of torture” (the manacles). Topcliffe: “Show the marks of your torture.” Southwell: “Ask a woman to show her throes.” Topcliffe talked at great length, trying to clear himself. “Thou art a bad man,” said Southwell, and left it at that.

Topcliffe made one more interjection before being silenced by the judges. “I would blow you all to pieces,” he shouted. “What, ALL?” quirked Robert, “Soul and body too?” The smile that no doubt accompanied this sally which, among other things, neatly turned Topcliffe’s earlier accusation of blasphemy back on his own head, faded from Robert’s lips as he recognized his next accuser, Anne Bellamy. Her evidence (which Robert could have discredited had he been willing to expose her infamy) was used in an attempt to show that Southwell had taught the lawfulness of perjury. His reply was, by a parable, to ensnare the Court into admitting his position or to appear disloyal subjects of the Queen.

THE VERDICT

The jury retired, and in a quarter of an hour returned with their verdict of guilty. While the judge paused to deliver his sentence, Topcliffe again become vocal, calling out to the crowded hall: “I found him hidden in the tylles.” With a fine blend of humility, humour and scorn, Southwell replied: “It was time to hide when Mr. Topcliffe came.” The expected sentence was passed; Southwell was to be hanged, drawn and quartered.

Dawn of the following day came at last. His keeper summoned Southwell who embraced him and gave him his cap-a souvenir the Protestant keeper valued highly, declining all Catholic offers to buy it. As he was tied to the hurdle, on which he was to be dragged to the gallows, he exclaimed: “How great a preferment (promotion) for so base a servant,” as he thought of those who had gone this way before him. A young woman, related to him, fell on her knees in the mud beside him and asked his blessing. He gave it, saying, “Dear cousin, I thank thee; and I pray thee, pray for me.” Arriving at the scaffold, and released from the hurdle, he wiped the mud from his face and flung the handkerchief as a parting gesture to Father Garnet whom he saw in the crowd below.

THE HANGING

After he had spoken to the crowd, declaring his innocence and proclaiming his faith, he prayed, as did all the Martyrs, for the Queen. The noose was fitted around his neck. It slipped, was refitted and this time held. His last words as, slowly strangling, he made the sign of the Cross were, “Into thy hands, O Lord. . . .” The butchering known as quartering was, by law, performed while the half-strangulated man was still alive and conscious. The Sergeant, therefore, stepped forward to cut him down and have the quartering proceeded with, but the powerful Protestant nobleman, Lord Mountjoy, who was standing by, waved him back, and the crowd roared its approval. Seeing the Sergeant hesitate, the Sheriff himself stepped forward drawing his sword to cut the rope; but he, too, stopped when the crowd roared its hostility. The hangman, taking his cue from the mood of the spectators, mercifully took the Martyr by the legs and leant with his full weight. When he felt the body go limp, he gently lowered it to the block. The quarterer went to work. It is said that as the butcher held the Martyr’s heart aloft in his hand it seemed to jump from his grasp, as if anxious to join its fellow members of the Martyr’s body, already reeking in the cauldron.

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The True Apostle of The Sacred Heart

BY F. LEAHY

INDEX

I

THE MORNING OFFERING

Purity of Intention

THE SOUL , so to speak, of all our actions, of all our works, is the intention, which we have in performing them. It is the intention that determines the nature of these works, and fixes their degree of merit and the reward for them.

Each day we perform a number of actions that considered in themselves are purely animal. Like the animals, we seek to satisfy our corporal needs we eat, we drink, we try to avoid the dangers that threaten us. What raises us above the animals, even where we perform the same actions, is that we can, in performing them, propose to ourselves an end which the animals can neither know of nor desire, a rational end, nay, even far beyond that, indeed-a divine end.

St. Paul says to us: “Therefore, whether you eat or drink, or whatsoever else you do, do all to the glory of God” (1 Cor. x. 3!). Thus, by virtue of this supernatural intention, our actions, even those that in themselves are purely animal, can become truly divine.

Such is the virtue of our intention, when directed to God, that it sanctifies all that we do and gives really infinite value to the lowest occupations.

Thus, we are right in saying that the intention determines the nature of our works and fixes the reward due to them.

As the moral nature of every work is determined by the intention which animates it, it follows that all works done from a motive of charity are acts of charity, just as the works performed with a view to our eternal happiness, which is the motive of hope, are acts of hope. And as the virtue of charity exceeds in excellence and in merit all other virtues, we can understand that the same actions, performed with the same exterior perfection, but animated with these different intentions, may be very different in their degrees of merit. What is the exact measure of this merit God alone knows. Only at the Last Day will it be revealed to men. On that Day, St. Paul tells us, all our works will pass through the crucible of Divine Justice, and only those performed with a pure intention will have reward.

How great then should be our care to ensure, by the purity of our intention, for our works the full measure of merit. Purity of intention fills our hearts with the life-giving virtue of Charity, and so prevents the corrupting influence of selflove, and also helps us to avoid sin. How happy we should feel to know that we have a means of acquiring perfect purity of intention in all our actions, and of preserving that purity in its supreme degree of excellence.

Devotion to the Sacred Heart of Jesus offers us the means of acquiring this perfect purity of intention. Long ages before this devotion was revealed to the world in its special form, St. Paul had formulated the spirit of it when he wrote to the Philippians: “For let this mind be in you, which was also in Christ Jesus” (Phil. ii. 6).

If we obey this precept of the Apostle we shall practise devotion to the Sacred Heart in all its perfection. For, how could we better show our devotion than by making the intentions of that Divine Heart our own.

It is for that reason that this practice has been chosen as the only obligation imposed on the members of the Apostleship of Prayer.

There are two ways by which we can unite ourselves with Our Divine Lord in all His intentions. We can, with one glance, take in all the intentions of His Sacred Heart, and offer them to God as our own, and declare that we firmly resolve to have other intentions in all our works than those of our Divine Master. As His faithful, loving servants, wholly consecrated to Him, and devoted body and soul to His service, we will have no other interest than His, and we firmly resolve to devote our lives to the carrying out of His wishes. To adopt in our heart the intentions of the Sacred Heart of Jesus, to realize them by our actions, to sacrifice to them all other intentions such are the three degrees of devotedness.

Now, as the devotion to the Sacred Heart is pre-eminently the devotion of devotedness, the Apostleship of Prayer could do nothing better fitted to make us enter into the spirit of this devotion than to require all its members to make the daily offering of all their prayers, their works, their sufferings in union with the intentions of the Divine Heart of Jesus. This pious practice is easily performed. When we reflect how small is the effort it requires, how short the time it takes, we can say with truth that it is as nothing. But when we consider the efficacy of this little practice, the fruit that can result from it, the merit that it can obtain for us, it must be given a place among the most efficacious of pious exercises.

It is certain that a supernatural intention formed each morning, with the full and perfect consciousness of our mind, and the strongest determination of our will, is strong enough to impregnate all the actions of the day with its merit. And as the intentions of the Sacred Heart of Jesus are incomparably, beyond all others, the most excellent and the most meritorious, the practice enjoined by the Apostleship of Prayer, if faithfully and fervently accomplished, is sufficient to render all our actions, our works, our sufferings inappreciably meritorious, to sanctify our whole lives.

However, to ensure for ourselves the full efficacy of this intention, we must not be satisfied with the general and implicit adoption of the intentions of the Sacred Heart of Jesus. We must study them in detail, and try to engrave each one on our minds and hearts.

These divine intentions are not unknown to us. We know the ends to which our Divine Lord directed all His works, and to which He still directs His prayers, His Sacrifices.

First of all, it is the glory of His Heavenly Father, the accomplishment of all His designs, the establishment of His Kingdom on earth, His victory over Satan and the malice of men.

It is in the second place, the salvation of men, the conversion of sinners and the sanctification of our souls.

These two ends form for our Divine Saviour but one; for it is, solely, in our salvation that He seeks the glory of His Heavenly Father. All else is as nothing to Him earthly riches, earthly grandeur, the masterpieces of genius, the inventions of science, the rise and fall of empires; all these earthly things to which we are so inclined to devote, in an inordinate measure, our thoughts, our efforts. In all these things Our Lord considers only the end for which the Providence of the Eternal Father has foreseen; and permitted them from all eternity the Glory of God in the salvation of souls. If we meditate on all these things we shall accustom ourselves to conform our sentiments to those of the Sacred Heart of Jesus, and so, instinctively, we shall repel any human sentiment which would tend to tarnish the purity of our intentions.

The more we make the intentions of Our Divine Master our own, the more we shall become like unto Him.

By obeying the precept of St. Paul, “ Let this mind be in you which was also the mind of Jesus Christ “ (Phil. ii. 5), we shall become able to say with the same Apostle “I live, not I but Christ liveth in me.”

II

PRAYER AND ACTION

PRIESTS, RELIGIOUS, ORATORS, WRITERS, ALL THESE MAY BE CALLED THE AUXILIARIES OF CHRIST OUR KING. BUT THIS TITLE DOES not imply that it is only those so named who are called on to labour for the establishment of Christ’s Kingdom on earth. In the army of an earthly sovereign, it is not only the heads of the army who have to defend their King, but all the soldiers also must take their part in this duty. We, who have by our Baptism and Confirmation become soldiers of Christ, we, too, must protect the interests of our Divine King; we must labour in the establishment of His Kingdom on earth. You are,” said St. Peter to the early Christians, a chosen generation, a kingly priesthood, a holy nation, a purchased people: that you may declare his virtues, who hath called you out of darkness into his marvellous light “ (Peter 1. 2–9).

It was not only to His Apostles and the inheritors of their missions that our Divine Saviour said: “Go ye into the whole world and preach the gospel to every creature.” He that believeth and is baptised shall be saved “(Mark xvi. 15~16).

All the children of the Church have been to a certain extent called on to share in this sublime mission. But, how can you all, faithful children of the Church, fulfil this duty that is at once so urgent and so sweet to loyal hearts. God has given you two means: He has given you two weapons of which you should make habitual use: Prayer and Action.

We must pray; we must pray unceasingly. That is the watchword of the army of Christ our King. A glance at the state of the world at present will suffice to excite us to prayer.

Setting aside the millions of men outside the Church, think of the numbers of those within her fold to whom she affords the means of sanctification, how many neglect these means utterly, how many are tepid, how many even hostile to the Church. If we remember the open warfare waged against the Church and her teaching, the ever-increasing ravages of unbelief, the plots to seduce innocence and virtue, the glaring violation of all laws-human and divine-the indifference of this age of ours; vices which no longer fear to show themselves in the daylight, the fearful indifference of men regarding God and the goodness of God, and even the rigours of His Justice; if we recall all these things, cause for so much sadness, however small may be our love of God, we cannot but prostrate ourselves before Him and implore His Mercy, begging Him to hasten the advent of His Kingdom, to sanctify His name on earth, sanctified as it is glorified in Heaven.

If we would know the conditions essential for the success of our prayers, we shall find them clearly expressed in the words of Holy Scripture describing the scene in the upper room where the Apostles for ten days after Our Lord’s Resurrection waited for the Coming of the Holy Ghost: “All these,” we read in the Acts of the Apostles, “ were persevering with one mind in prayer with the women and Mary the Mother of Jesus, and with his brethren” (Acts i. 1.4).

Such are the conditions of the success of our prayers Perseverance, Unanimity, and the intercession of Mary.

May the Holy Ghost grant us that same unanimity. Let us not be satisfied with gathering around the same flag, under the same name. That is merely external unity. We must forget everything that divides us, all selfish and personal interests, in order to concentrate all our forces, all our ambitions on one sole object: the triumph of the Church, the salvation of souls, the advent of the Kingdom of Christ our King on earth. The Apostles and the holy women had Mary, the Mother of Jesus with them. Her prayers were united with theirs, and she acted as their Mediatrix with the great and only Mediator. But have we not the same Mediatrix, as the Apostles and the holy women had: Mary, whose all-powerful mediation extends throughout the ages? What she did for them, she continues to do in Heaven for the Church, for all who are faithful soldiers of her Divine Son, Christ our King, who are labouring to establish on earth His Kingdom. Let this thought encourage us to invoke daily with greater fervour and confidence the aid of Mary, the Mother of Jesus.

Thus in all our trials, in all our labours, in all our efforts for the Cause of Christ our King and of the Church, our chief resource must be prayer: universal, unanimous, fervent prayer; prayer in union with all our Associates in every part of the world; that is our first duty.

ACTION

But, as soldiers of Christ our King, our obligations are not limited to prayer alone. We must act as well as pray. Prayer and action: that is our watchword. A great number of good Catholics are fervent in prayer but they are slow to act in the good cause; on the other hand there are many who are willing workers, but they are not constant, persevering, in invoking God’s assistance in their works.

Unless we pray earnestly, continuously, for God’s assistance whilst at the same time we labour devotedly in His Service, we cannot expect success.

If Catholics in every diocese, in every parish, gathered in a strong united body round their bishops and priests, firmly resolved to act with them and according to their directions if in every parish, in every town, a Committee was formed, the members of which laboured by every lawful means to prevent the sale of the irreligious, immoral literature which to-day is working such awful ruin amongst souls, being as it is the most powerful of Satan’s weapons to destroy the Kingdom of Christ on earth; if the members of these committees did all in their power to promote the spread of good Catholic newspapers, magazines and books if they were as energetic, as determined to drive out evil literature as they would be in their efforts to stamp out some terrible plague which was threatening the lives of all, if, to this vigorous action, they united their humble heartfelt prayers, soon they would win success in the battle for the rights of Jesus Christ and the establishment of His Kingdom on earth.

More than ever, at the present time, it is necessary for the soldiers of Christ our King to oppose to the propaganda of evil, of falsehood, the propaganda of truth, of our belief in God. To the Apostolate of evil, let us oppose the Apostolate of good.

Let us then he up and doing; let us draw close our ranks; let us labour with our forces to defend the Kingship of the Sacred Heart of Jesus. A truce to all useless complaints, lamentations! Let us work constantly, with our whole hearts, making use of every lawful means to destroy evil in whatever form it may appear amongst us.

Prayer and Action: United, persevering, confident prayer, constant and courageous action, in the Cause of Christ, our King.

III

PATIENCE

THE SACRED HEART of Jesus is Charity incarnate. In Him the ideal of this supreme virtue is perfectly realised. When St. Paul, in his first Epistle to the Corinthians, describes the distinctive characteristics of Charity, he lays particular stress on the quality of patience, Charity,” he tells us, “is patient” (s Cor. xiii. 4).

In all our Divine Lord’s relations with those for the salvation of whose souls He laboured during His eart hly life, we find His Divine Charity ever rendered still more resplendent by His practise of sublime patience.

During the whole course of His Public Life He was pursued by enemies who sought on every possible occasion, to confound Him, to contradict all that He said, to annoy Him by every means in their power.

The Scribes, puffed-up with their learning, the hypocritical Pharisees, the pleasureloving Sadducees; all these men”, at enmity -with one another on all other points, joined together to hinder Our Lord’s mission. At every moment they laid snares for Him; they sought to entrap Him by insidious questions; they circulated vile calumnies about Him. Our Lord, Who could have crushed them with a word, treated them with infinite patience. If at times, He manifested His indignation, it was when He saw them abusing their authority by making unwarranted additions to the Code of the Divine Law, and crushing weak souls under the weight of burdens which they would not raise a finger to lessen.

When they heaped insults on Our Lord,He, simply, in the calmest manner denied their allegations. “ I have not a devil,” He answered, “but I honour My Father. And you have dishonoured me” (John viii. 49).

He profited by the questions, which they put to Him with the most designing intentions, to give them useful instructions. He manifested the same patience with the multitudes that gathered to hear Him. He even condescended to clothe His teaching in the transparent veil of the parable that thus they might more easily grasp the truths which He would teach them.

The Apostles, themselves, how much patience did not their Divine Master exercise in their regard! He hid nothing from them. He explained His Parables to them, and availed Himself of every opportunity to impress upon them the teaching of His Divine Spirit. What progress should not they have made during three years in the school of such a Master!

And yet, to the last day of His sojourn amongst them their intelligence remained dull, unable to grasp His meaning. During three years He never ceased to preach humility to them by His example even more than by His words. And yet on the Eve of His Passion, they were disputing amongst themselves as to which should have the first place. He foresaw how they would abandon Him and yet, in His farewell discourse at the Last Supper He manifested the most tender affection towards them. He permitted the traitor Judas, to remain amongst His Apostles, showing him the same goodness. And in the very moment that he consummated his treason, Jesus still treated him as a friend.

Finally, how can we describe Our Lord’s patience during the awful sufferings of His Passion, from His Agony in the Garden of Olives until He expired on Calvary.

Thus, we see how our Divine Master throughout His whole life, anticipated by His example, the teaching which He would give us by the mouth of His Apostle, “Charity is Patient.”

It remains now for us to consider how we can put this lesson into practice.

Following the example of Jesus Christ Himself, we must, first of all, exercise patience by our loving acceptance of all the mysterious designs of Divine Providence. From all time God has been pleased to try the patience of His servants. He wills that we should wait in patience for the fulfilment of His Divine promises with unshaken confidence that He will not fail to come to our assistance at the moment which in His Divine Wisdom He has appointed.

All of us, without exception, are called to practise that patience by which alone we can hope to win our eternal salvation. St. Paul is addressing us all when he says: “Do not therefore lose your confidence which hath a great reward. For patience is necessary for you that doing the will of God, you may receive the promise “ (Heb. x. 35–36).

Every day of our lives, how many opportunities of practising this virtue are afforded to us, furnished by ourselves and by those amongst whom we live. How much reason, have we not, in truth, to be dissatisfied with—others as well as with ourselves. Who is there amongst us whose daily life runs perfectly smooth without any annoyance to vex or disturb him. But it is, above all, when poverty and illness strike us, when old age with all its infirmities leaves us helpless, when all illusions vanish-and when, looking to the future, we cannot discover the least glimmer of hope to brighten the darkness of the present time it is then that patience is our sole resort.

It is the charity of the Sacred Heart of Jesus, alone, that in such moments can shield our poor human hearts from the fatal attacks of discouragement. Then it is that the faithful disciples of this Divine Heart are made perfect by their patience. Knowing that the trying of your faith worketh patience. And patience hath a perfect work that you may be perfect and entire, failing in nothing “ (James i. 3–4).

Patience, serene submission to the Divine Will in the hour of great trials, and firm confidence in the Divine promises, such is the most precious sacrifice that we can offer to God. It is the highest degree of merit that we can acquire for ourselves.

IV

MEEKNESS—MILDNESS

IN PRESENTING to us Meekness, Mildness as the second distinctive characteristic of the Charity of the Sacred Heart of Jesus, St. Paul has placed in our hands the second weapon which should render all the devoted servants of this Divine Heart invincible. By patience they will be able to offer insurmountable resistance to all the attacks of their enemies; by meekness they will acquire an irresistible ascendancy over souls.

It was thus that our Divine Lord Himself triumphed, and such is, also, the condition for our success. Even before it gains for us the Kingdom of Heaven, meekness will assure for us dominion of the earth. “ Blessed are the meek,” says Our Lord, “ for they shall possess the land “ (Matt. V. 4).

It was with these two weapons of patience and meekness that our Divine Saviour began His campaign to win our love in the Crib, at Bethlehem, which He would consummate on Calvary, and continue to the end of Time in the Tabernacle. It was of this second manifestation of the Divine Majesty, so different from that of Sinai, that St. Paul cried out “ When the goodness and kindness of God our Saviour appeared” (Titus iii. 4).

No; it is not His Infinite Power, His rigorous Justice, His inviolable Holiness that He reveals to us in the Crib or in the Tabernacle. The God of the Crib, of the Tabernacle, still possess all these attributes, for they are inalienable; but they are hidden, as it were, eclipsed by the manifestation of His goodness, His meekness. He lays aside all other arms and, strong in His love alone, He descends on earth to do battle with our pride, our self-love.

Throughout the whole course of His mortal life, when most violently assailed by His enemies, He opposes to them nothing but meekness, and He makes use of no other means to overcome all attacks. He would seem to have forgotten His All-Mighty Power, and He would not listen to those who mindful of that Divine Power, begged Him to use it for the success of His Mission. When James and John proposed to Him to bring down fire from. Heaven on a city which refused to open its gates to Him, He rebuked them saying: “You know not of what spirit you are “(Luke ix. 58).

These disciples in their ardent zeal, thought they were still in the time of the Law of Fear when Elias called down fire from Heaven to punish those who would not hear Him (Kings iv. 4).

They had not yet learned that the Master of the Prophets had come to inspire them with a better spirit. But they soon understood, and John became so completely filled with this spirit that he could preach nothing but love.

There is, indeed, no lesson which our Divine Lord laboured more to teach, both by His example and His words. When He would sum up all His teaching in a few words, He said: “Learn of Me for I am meek and humble of heart.”

The practical understanding of this lesson does not dispense us from believing the other truths, and fulfilling the other precepts. But it will so well dispose our hearts and minds that all the other instructions will easily penetrate them, and the fulfilment of all other duties will become easy.

From the example of their Divine Master the Apostles learned to find in meekness-mildness the principal secret of their Apostolate. They were witnesses how this mildness saved a poor soul that the harshness of the Pharisees would have driven to eternal destruction. These hypocrites, advocates of a purely external justice, brought to our Divine Lord a poor sinful woman who, according to the Law of Moses, was condemned to be stoned to death. They wished to have the malicious pleasure of finding Him, once at least, as severe as themselves. We know how Our Lord acted. Treating them with His usual mildness of which they were so unworthy, He forced them, by a secret reminder of their own sins, to desist from their accusation, and gave them the opportunity to slip away one by one. Then, turning to the poor sinner, “Woman,” He asked, “where are they that accused thee? Hath no man condemned thee?” “No man, Lord,” was the sinful woman’s answer. Whereupon Jesus said to her, “Neither will I condemn thee. Go, and now sin no more” (John viii. 3–11).

Here we have in the strongest relief the contrast between the true spirit of the Sacred Heart and that spirit of the Pharisees, which; even in these days and amongst Catholics, still wages war against the Christ-like spirit of meekness, of mildness, and which does so much harm to souls. The Pharisees, by their cruel harshness, would have destroyed every good feeling in the poor woman’s heart, every germ of contrition, would have filled her with despair, and so have led to her death in final impenitence.

Our Lord, on the contrary, by His mildness, His mercy, arouses in the simple heart a sentiment of gratitude and of repentance, and so gently leads the sinner into the way of salvation.

Was it not this meekness, this mildness, which attracted the Samaritan woman to Our Lord and drew from her the humble confession of her sins. Again, was it not the ineffable condescension, the mildness, the mercy with which He received the penitent Magdalen, which aroused in that sin-stained soul such repentance, such ardent, undying love for Him as raised her at once to the highest sanctity.

This mildness is the all-powerful weapon which Jesus wishes all the faithful followers of His Sacred Heart, to make use of in their daily intercourse with their fellowcreatures. “We shall be strong like Him, if we learn the great lesson which He would, above all others, teach us. “Learn of Me, for I am meek and humble of heart.” But, let us not forget that this meekness, this mildness has nothing in common with that weakness, that indolence, that want of spirit which results from a temperament devoid of energy. This spiritless, inert passiveness has no resemblance to the meekness of the Sacred Heart. This kind of meekness is only Nature’s rough sketch, whilst that modelled on that of the Sacred Heart is a masterpiece of divine grace. The first kind of meekness is a natural disposition and, consequently, without merit, the second is an acquired virtue and eminently meritorious. Like all natural qualities, the first has its corresponding fault- weakness; the second, on the contrary, is allied harmoniously with the opposite quality which is strength; the first springs from want of power to struggle against external resistance; the second can only be the fruit of a long struggle against interior impulses.

The meekness which resembles that of the Sacred Heart is the meekness of St. Francis de Sales who, to “all appearance, seemed as if born with the most peaceful disposition whereas, in reality, it was only after a long and desperate struggle that he succeeded in subduing his naturally fiery nature, and in acquiring the serene peace manifest in his whole appearance. Calmer temperaments, as well as weaker ones, can also acquire real meekness, and thus transform into a supernatural virtue that more peaceful disposition which nature had given them.

Whilst fiery natures are easily moved to anger, on the other hand, weaker natures are more inclined to become depressed, and give way to discouragement.

Dejection and ill-humour are almost as contrary to meekness as fits of anger, and to overcome them requires a great struggle.

Both dispositions are equally far from meekness. The meekness of the Sacred Heart of Jesus is the ideal after which they must strive, aided by divine grace which alone can make their efforts of avail.

But how powerful, how great is the example of one who, aided by grace and at the cost of generous efforts, obtains mastery over his fiery nature, and acquires real meekness, gentleness of manner, in words, in action. There is no earthly attraction, however fascinating, which appeals with greater and more enduring power to all than that of true meekness- the meekness of Jesus Christ.

May all the disciples of the Sacred Heart strive to acquire this precious virtue and thus, by their example, lead souls to follow the Divine Master Who said Learn of me for Iam meek and humble of heart.”

V

CONFIDENCE

THE PRINCIPAL MOTIVE of that confidence which should animate all who labour in the cause of the Sacred Heart of Jesus is pointed out to us by St. Paul when he tells is that all things in Heaven and on earth were created in Jesus Christ and for Jesus Christ (Coloss. i. 16).

And this is also what the same Apostle expresses by a very striking image when speaking of the action of the Eternal Father. He says “And he hath subjected all things under his feet” (Eph. i. 22).

As long as we are united to Jesus Christ; as we work for Him, and as we are docile in following the inspiration of His love; we are assured of the success of our labours. God Himself has given this assurance of success to all those who give themselves into His hands to be His instruments, and to work in union with Him for the end which He has proposed from all eternity.

Now, none can more easily fulfil the sole and infallible condition for the success of our works, that is when the work is done for God and with God, than the clients of the Sacred Heart of Jesus, and amongst those who fulfil it more perfectly are those who, in union with Him, practise the Apostleship of Prayer.

The care to consult in all their actions, the wishes of the Sacred Heart of Jesus, constant fidelity in following the inspiration of His Divine Spirit, and reliance solely on the assistance of His grace; such is, indisputably, the most excellent of all the practices of devotion to this Divine Heart, and is that which the Apostleship of Prayer makes the principal object of the zeal of its associates. In exhorting them to make the intentions of the Sacred Heart theirs, they are not allowed to forget that, amongst these intentions, there are some which concern themselves only, and the realisation of which depends on their own” free will. None can have any illusions on this point. They know very well that they cannot-without contradiction-unite their prayers to those of the Sacred Heart for the salvation of other souls, and refuse to realise the desire of that Sacred Heart for the sanctification of their own.

Those, who are animated with the spirit which the Apostleship of Prayer seeks to spread everywhere, embrace to their full extent the desires of the Sacred Heart. They make these desires the sole rule of their sentiments and their conduct. Such of these divine desires as concern themselves, they try to realise in their actions, those which concern souls over whom they have no influence, they labour for the realisation by the union of their prayers with those of the Sacred Heart. Thus, the work of God becomes their work; they embrace it to its full extent, and never cease to labour for it by the deliberate determination of their will; they never pursue any other end than His, and they never take any step without relying on His all-powerful help. It is those who thus practise devotion to the Sacred Heart of Jesus who can have the infallible assurance of definite success in their efforts.

Confidence in God is the special fruit of devotion to the Sacred Heart. Confidence, firm, continual, boundless, invincible confidence such should be the predominant quality of all those who have enlisted in the Army of their King, and who fight under His banner against the powers of darkness.

Such is the particular obligation of those who make special profession of honouring the Sacred Heart. The more intimate knowledge which they have acquired of His infinite mercy and Goodness should fill their souls with a confidence which will communicate itself to their brethren as the heat of a fire warms the surrounding atmosphere.

And thus, in propagating the spirit of confidence, the associates of the Apostleship of Prayer will labour in a most effectual manner for the Cause of Christ their King. For we must acknowledge that, precious as is this virtue of confidence, it is hard to preserve it in times of trial.

In hours of darkness, of sorrow, of misfortune when we have lost all that constitutes earthly happiness, when all hope seems dead, truly, it is hard to preserve confidence. What constitutes the merit of this virtue, constitutes, also, the difficulty of practising it.

Want of confidence, discouragement is, in time of trial, the great temptation which we should resist with all our strength. If we would, like St. Paul, rejoice in the midst of tribulation; if we would preserve unalterable peace in the severest trials, let us have recourse to the Adorable Heart of Jesus, His Goodness, His Power, arid we shall surely find peace, we shall maintain firm confidence, no matter how great our sorrows.

VI

LOVE OF THE BLESSED SACRAMENT

DEVOTION TO THE Sacred Heart of Jesus is intimately connected with the Blessed Sacrament. St. Margaret Mary was the lover of the Tabernacle as she was of the Cross. To receive Jesus in His Sacrament of Love was her only desire. She says herself that her only source of help was the Heart of Jesus in the Most Holy Sacrament. Our Lord, she tells us, asked her to offer Him the Communion of Reparation, and He wished her to receive Holy Communion as often as she could, no matter at what cost to herself.

And thus it is that as the devotion advances, according as it takes deeper root in a soul, the more that soul feels urged to receive Holy Communion more frequently and with greater fervour. The particular object of this devotion,” Father Croiset, S.J., tells us, “is the love of the Son of God which caused Him to deliver Himself to death for us, and to give Himself entirely to us in the Most Holy Sacrament of the Altar.” And again he tells us that the Blessed Sacrament is with the Passion the greatest proof that we could have of the love of Jesus Christ for us.

“ Blessed are those who hunger and thirst after justice,” said Our Lord in His sermon on the Mount. It is by the Blessed Sacrament that this hunger and thirst for holiness, this desire for perfection, for the love of God will be aroused within us. To grow in holiness, we must often receive Holy Communion, which is the most efficacious of all means for the sanctification of our souls, and if we neglect this means we shall never grow holy. Of course, we must be in a state of grace, and desire to receive this Divine Food of our souls. But, the more often you receive Holy Communion the greater will be your desire, and you will grow in grace and holiness. This Divine Food of the soul has this particular effect that the more often it is received the more the soul hungers for it.

The Tabernacle is the throne whereon Jesus reigns as the Lamb ever living to make intercession for us it is the throne of His love for us; it is the throne of His Sacred Heart.

Thus, it is, that all who labour for the complete establishment of Christ’s Kingdom on earth should gather closely round the Altar of the Blessed Sacrament; round the Tabernacle.

As we have said already, the Tabernacle is the central point of devotion to the Sacred Heart, for there it is that we shall find the most complete manifestation of the love of that Divine Heart for us. There He manifests that divine love better than in the Crib at Bethlehem. There He sacrificed all the splendours of His Divine Nature to become like unto us; in the Tabernacle He has sacrificed His human body to become one with us. In the Crib He became our brother; here He becomes the food of our souls. In the Crib He united His Divine nature to our human nature; here, on the Altar, He contracts a union with us which surpasses all that human language could express. He confounds His life with our life, His Majesty with our misery, in such a manner, that when we turn away from His Altar after having received Him in His Adorable Sacrament, His angels are constrained to prostrate themselves to adore Him in this new Tabernacle.

In the same manner, as we cannot learn to know God better than by studying in the school of the Sacred Heart of Jesus, so, we cannot better profit by the lessons of that school than by prayer before the Tabernacle. It is there that the accents of that Divine Heart of Jesus are heard more distinctly, and that He reveals to us the Secrets of His love more completely.

In all the troubles, the trials, the sorrows of this earthly life, when the loss of all our dear ones has left us desolate, alone when failure in our undertakings deprives us of the means of living, and we are reduced to poverty; when sickness strikes us down and leaves us helpless tortured with cruel pain; when we are struggling against some fierce temptation, even if we have, in a moment of temptation yielded to that temptation, and stricken with remorse would seek forgiveness in the very darkest hours of life when it would seem as if all hope were lost and we are in danger of falling a victim to despair; at such times let us have recourse to the All-Merciful Heart of Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament. We shall find consolation in our sorrows, light in our darkness, counsel in our doubts, relief in our sufferings, help in our undertakings, strength in our temptations. We shall even learn to rejoice when we are calumniated; we shall know no resentment, no bitterness with those who have injured us.

“I have come,” said our Divine Saviour during His mortal life, “not only to bring life to men, but that they may have it ever morefully.”

It is, above all, in the Blessed Sacrament that Jesus realises to the full the end for which He came on earth. And it is in Holy Communion that we shall receive this supernatural life for we shall possess within us the very source of life Jesus Christ Himself.

Yes, surely, in those moments when we are united to the Source of life itself, we shall receive that life in ever increasing fullness. But that we may merit this outpouring of divine life, let us not forget during those blessed moments when the Sacred Heart of Jesus is really present within us, that He is for us the Way, the Truth, and the Life, and let us then ask Him to enlighten us with His Divine light, to teach us to imitate His virtues, to animate us with His strength, His love, His sentiments. It is then that we shall be filled with the plenitude of eternal life, and shall know that true joy which the world cannot give nor can it take from us.

In the Adorable Heart of Jesus in the Tabernacle we shall find support, strength, assistance in every need. He will be with us in all that we do for Him, He will bless all our undertakings, lighten the burden of our labours. He is all ours that we may be wholly His and may increase every day in His grace and in His love.

Nihil Obstat:

Carolus Doyle, S.J.,

Censor Theol. Deput.

Imprimi Potest:

@ EDUARDUS,

Archiep Dublinen.,

Hiberniae Prirnas. DUBLINI, die 27 Aprilis, 1931.

********

The Truth About Catholics

PETER O’DONNELL

INDEX

APPEAL TO FAIR-MINDEDNESS

Before you mislay this booklet, ask yourself the following questions:

AM I RIGHT?

Four hundred years ago all English-speaking people were Catholic. Many of the greatest minds of the age—scientists, philosophers, reformers, poets, critics, etc., have become convinced that the Catholic Church is the Living

Representative of The Greatest Mind of all time, Jesus Christ, the Son of God.

ARE THEY RIGHT OR AM I?

AM I JUST?

I do not deny even to murderers the hearing I refuse to the Catholic Church. I condemn her upon the evidence of her enemies only, and in doing so I forget that men once so condemned Jesus Christ Himself. IS THIS JUST? AM I PRUDENT?

Jesus founded a Church to teach all nations and to endure to the end of the world.

“Going, therefore, teach ye all nations; baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy

Ghost. Teaching them to observe all things whatsoever I have commanded you: and behold I am with you all days, even to the consummation of the world.” (Matt. 28, 19–20.) To her teachers He said, “He that heareth you heareth Me, and he that despiseth youdespiseth Me.” (Luke 10, 16.) “He that believeth not shall be condemned.” (Mark 16, 16.)

History tells me that she is the only world-wide Church that has preserved her identity, authority, and worship from Apostolic times (see pages 15, 16, 17, 18, 19), and that she is the only Church founded by the infallible Son of God.

AM I PRUDENT IN FAILING TO INVESTIGATE HER CLAIMS? St. Paul tells us that Faith without good works is dead. What HAVE I DONE TO MERIT A HAPPY ETERNITY?

ALL BIBLE QUOTATIONS IN THIS BOOKLET ARE TAKEN FROM THE KING JAMES VERSION

CHURCH OR BIBLE

WHICH WAS APPOINTED BY CHRIST TO TEACH MANKIND THE TRUE RELIGION?

When Our Divine Saviour sent His Apostles throughout the universe to preach the Gospel to every creature He laid down the conditions of salvation thus: “He that believeth and is baptized shall be saved, but he that believeth not shall be condemned.” Here then our Blessed Lord laid down two conditions-Faith and Baptism. (Mark 16, 16).

What is this Divine Faith which we must have in order to be saved? It is to believe, upon the authority of God, the truths that God has revealed. Now, if a man is at liberty to believe any kind of religion, provided he be a good man, then what use for Christ to send out His Apostles to teach all nations? Are men and nations at liberty to reject the teaching of the Apostles? Therefore, if a man would be saved he must profess the true religion.

Now, if God commands me under pain of damnation to believe what He has taught, He is bound to give me the means to know what He has taught. Has God given us such means. “Yes,” say all Protestants, “He has.” And so say the Catholics. What is the means God has given us whereby we shall learn what He has taught?

“The Bible,” say our Protestant friends, “and nothing but the Bible.”

But we Catholics say, “No; not the Bible, but the Church of God.” For if God had intended that man should learn his religion from the Bible, surely God would have given that book to man. Did He do so? He did not. Christ sent His Apostles throughout the universe and said: “Go ye, therefore, and teach all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost, teaching them to observe all things whatsoever I have commanded you.” (Matt. 28, 19).

Christ did not say, sit down and write Bibles and let every man read and judge for himself. That injunction was reserved for the sixteenth century, and we have seen the result of it in the founding of about 500 religions by men, all quarrelling with one another about the interpretation of the Bible.

Jesus never wrote a line of scripture, nor did He command His Apostles to do so, except when He directed St. John to write the Apocalypse (1, 11), but ordered them to “teach all nations.” (Matt. 28, 19.) In Matt. 18, 17, He does not say, “He that will not read the scriptures,” but “he that will not hear the Church” is to be considered a heathen and publican.

The Apostles, going forth, preached everywhere the Lord cooperating with them. (Mark 16, 20). “Tis true Our Lord said on one occasion: “Search the scriptures, for in them ye think ye have eternal life, and the same are they that give testimony to Me.” This passage is quoted in favour of private interpretation, but proves nothing of the kind. “Search the scriptures” (John v., 39) is not a command. It is not imperative, but indicative, as reference to the Latin or Greek text shows, “You search the scriptures” is the sense, and Our Lord emphasised the point when He added, “And you will not come to Me that you may have life.” (John v., 40).

The Church, established by Christ as the teaching authority, does not under-rate the Scriptures. In fact, the Church, selecting the true from the false among a great number of writings, declared the Canon of Scripture, affirming and defining by her authority that these certain books were the inspired Word of God. As such, she preserved them, protected them, had them carefully copied and circulated, so that if it were not for the Catholic Church the books of the Bible would either have been lost altogether, or would have become unrecognisable among a mass of spurious documents. We accept the Bible on the authority of the Church: the Church existed before the New Testament was written.

The Church established by Christ existed about 65 years before St. John wrote the Book of Revelation. During these 65 years how did the people know what they had to do to save their souls?

Before the invention of the printing press and movable metal types in the fifteenth century, books had to be copied laboriously by hand, principally on to parchment. It was therefore impossible for everybody to have a copy of the Bible.

Would Our Divine Lord have left the world for 1500 years without that book if it were necessary to man’s salvation? Most assuredly not.

Now, with regard to the King James edition, learned Protestant preachers and Bishops have written volumes to point out the errors that are in it, and various denominations acknowledge it. Some years ago there was held in the U.S.A. a convention of ministers, to which all denominations were invited, the object being to arrange for a new translation of the Bible. In that convention a very learned Presbyterian stood up, and urging the necessity of a new translation, said that in the present Protestant Bible there were no less than thirty thousand errors.

Protestants say that the man who reads the Bible prayerfully has truth. Let us suppose: here is an Episcopal minister; he reads the Bible in a prayerful spirit, and he says it is clear and evident there must be bishops, for without bishops there can be no priests, without priests there can be no Sacraments, and without Sacraments no Church. The Presbyterian, a sincere and well-meaning man, deduces from the Bible that there should be no bishops, only Presbyters. A number of sects hold that Baptism by immersion is correct, while others approve of Baptism by sprinkling.

Next comes the Unitarian, who calls them a pack of Idolaters worshipping a man for a God, and he quotes several texts from the Bible to prove it.

I have here brought together a number of denominations understanding the Bible in different ways. What, then, if I brought together 500 denominations all differing? One says there is no hell. Another says there is a hell. One says Christ is God. Another says He is not; etc.

IS ANYONE FOOLISH ENOUGH TO BELIEVE THAT THE CHANGELESS AND ETERNAL HOLY GHOST IS DIRECTING THOSE FIVE HUNDRED SECTS, TELLING ONE YES AND ANOTHER NO; DECLARING A THING TO BE BLACK AND WHITE, FALSE AND TRUE, AT THE SAME TIME?

If the Bible were intended as the guide and teacher of man, would St. Peter have declared that, inthe scriptures “are certain things hard to be understood, which the unlearned and unstable wrest to their own destruction”? (2 Peter 3, 16.)

If salvation depends upon believing truths, can we suppose that God would have each individual determine what these truths are? Christ Himself set up that teaching organization called the Church to be His official custodian and interpreter. To that Church alone, and not to any book or private individual, did He say, “Teach ye . . . I will be with you.” (Matt. 28, 19).

When a nation’s Constitution is drawn up it is not left to the people to interpret as they wish. . A Supreme Court is set up for that purpose. And do you think that the all-wise God would be less careful in a matter of so great importance where the salvation of millions of immortal souls is at stake? Most assuredly not; He, too, set up a Supreme Court, saying, “He who will not hear the Church, let him be to thee as the heathen and the publican.” (Matt. 18, 17.) And the Son of the living God has pledged His word that His Supreme Court is infallible in matters of faith and morals. . (John 16, 13.) Therefore, the private interpretation of the scriptures cannot be the guide or teacher of man. -Rev. Arnold Damen, S.J.

QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS

1.DON’T YOU CATHOLICS ADORE RELICS AND SAINTS?

We don’t. If we did we would be idolators. Now, idolatry is worse than murder, for murder is directly against one’s neighbour; idolatry is directly against God.

1. ARE YOU NOT NARROW TO BELIEVE THAT YOURS IS THE ONLY TRUE CHURCH OF CHRIST?

We are not. Are you narrow for believing your God to be the only true God? Truth is one and can’t be mixed with untruth. Since Christ set up but one Church we refuse to believe more than one Church to be true.

1. WHAT ABOUT SO MANY BAD CATHOLICS

What about the millions of saintly ones who attend Mass daily? Our Lord told us not to be scandalized when we see

“cockle and wheat in His Church.” But why blame the Church for bad Catholics? All the bad Catholics of the world are not Catholic Church. They are bad because they forget their Catholic duties and disgrace their exalted condition, a matter of “fallen angels,” not to be seized with much eagerness; so long as there is life there is hope for them. Is it not more profitable to speak about the unnumbered Catholic martyrs and saints?

1. YOUR CHURCH IS INTOLERANT

Yes. She hates untruth, vice, humbug and whatever Christ, her bridegroom, hates. She therefore condemns books that contain false doctrines, or are calculated to injure the morals of peoples, Again, if men make use of politics to suppress or violate her rights or Christian morality, then she exercises her rights from above, to protect her children and herself from evil.

1.WHY CAN’T CATHOLICS BE MASONS?

One reason is that Masonry is a man-made religion, with a doctrine and a ritual of its own; hence Catholics cannot belong to it any more than they can belong to Islam.

1.YOU DON’T DENY THE OATH OF THE FOURTH DEGREE, KNIGHTS OF COLUMBUS?

We do emphatically. Since 1922 an oath of this kind has been invented and spread all over the country to poison America against Catholics generally and the knights particularly. Our Courts have proved that oath to be the “invention of an impious and venomous mind.” Numbers of fair-minded 32nd and 33rd Degree Masons, past Grandmasters, such as Motley Hewes Flint, Dana Reid Waller, William Rhodes Hervey, and Samuel E. Burke, of California, have investigated the alleged oath and declared it to be “scurrilous, wicked and libellous.” (Congressional Record, Vol. 52, pp. 3the alleged oath and declared it to be “scurrilous, wicked and libellous.” (Congressional Record, Vol. 52, pp. 3 3021.)

1. WHAT IS THE USE OF MONKS AND NUNS?

Their lives are lives of prayer, as those of angels in Heaven. Every Order has its own peculiar spirit and work. You find our monks and nuns spending themselves in the services of their neighbour, in schools, hospitals, homes for the aged, refuges of the unfortunate and neglected; the care of prisoners, orphans, lepers; the safeguarding of virtue among the unprotected. No lives are more benevolent to poor suffering humanity.

1.CAN’T YOU KEEP YOUR RELIGION TO YOURSELVES, LEAVING THE NON-CATHOLICS ALONE?

We can’t. Ours is the Gospel of the Holy One Who said, “Go ye and teach all nations. Ye are all brothers. Love each other as yourselves!”; and not the Gospel of Cain, who said, “Am I my brother’s keeper?” We are for truth, virtue, peace, legitimate authority (everybody his due, tax to whom tax, honour to whom honour; in short, for all the cures needed by society).

RATHER THAN OBSTRUCT OUR MISSION, COME AND BE A TORCHBEARER OF TRUTH, A HEALER OF WOUNDED HEARTS, A WORKER FOR THE KINGDOM OF GOD, A SOLDIER OF CHRIST; IN ONE WORD, A CATHOLIC. . GREAT WILL OUR REWARD BE HEREAFTER

-REV. A. COPPERSTONE, Malta.

THE CHURCH AND SCIENCE

Have Catholics been blind to scientific discovery and literary merit by reason of their Faith?

They have, if you rely on the enormous amount of defamatory literature sent out by the enemies of Christ’s Holy

Church. But a glance at a few names here given speaks louder; these are people known alike for their devotion to their Catholic Faith and for their contribution toward untold blessings enjoyed here, there, everywhere.

Astronomy -Algue, Copernicus, deVico, Gassendy, Laplace, Regiomontanus, Secchi, Torricelli. Biology-Bernard, Carnoy, Fabre, Detussien, O”Dwyer, Windle. Botany-Cesalpinus, Charles and Louis Tulasne. Chemistry-Becquerel, Chevreul, Despretz, La Voisier, Paracelsus, Van Helmont.

Electricity -Ampere, Carre, Caselli, Conbomb, Faucoult, Gramme, Marconi, Volta.

Geology-Collona, Delauny, Harey, Muller, Spada, Stensen. Mathematics-Boseorvitch, Charles, Ferari, Planudes, Sestina. Vieta.

Mechanics -Boselli, Burke, Castelli, Charpentier, Jouffrey, Mariotte, Parsons, Pascal.

Music-Beethoven, Bellini, Elgar, Gounod, Haydn, Mascagni, Mozart, Pallestrina, Perosi, Verdi. Medicine-Avenbrugger, Columbus, De Chaulic, Fabricus, Morgagni, Muller, Murphy, Pasteur, Vesalius. Navigation-Cabot, Columbus, Cortez, Magellan, Polo, Santa Cruz, Butler, Duren

Painting- Angelico, Giotto, Michael Angelo, Raphael, Reubens, Ferrati.

Physics-Babinet, Blot, Fresnel, Grimaldi, Monet, Plateau, Regnalt, Schwann, Zamboni.

Printing -Gutenberg, Mergenthaler, Horgan.

War-Barry, Castellan, Foch, Joffre, Petain, Sobieski. We might add innumerable writers, theologians, and philosophers, such as Dante, Leonardo da Vinci, James Harris Rogers, Claudel, etc., etc.

THE VISIBLE CHURCH?

The Church established by Christ is still on earth,”Like a city on the mountain top,” despite the slanders and persecutions of nineteen centuries, not changing with the whims of the ages, but teaching doctrines which are, in all respects, identical with those of the first teachers of the gospel. (See page 13).

Amid the continual changes in human institutions she is the one institution that never changes. She is the greatest kingdom which men have established upon earth; and the only one of the old kingdoms which lives in the same city which saw the rise and fall of the proudest of all earthly kingdoms. To her alone was given thecommand, “Go, teach all nations.” (Matt. 28, 19.)

Open the New Testament or read profane history and you will learn that Christ was visibly on earth but a very short time; that the term of His public teaching comprised only three years; which was occupied chiefly with the instruction of TWELVE men, who, under a chief, were to constitute His first representative corporate Teaching Body; they would be commissioned by the Son of God to “go forth and teach all nations” In His name. They would have successors in office, since the Kingdom of Christ was not only to be world-wide, but would endure until the end of time; “of His Kingdom there shall be no end” (Luke I., 33). And though Jesus would return to Heaven, He would not be dissociated from His visible TeachingBody in the Church: “Behold I am with you all days, even unto the consummation of the world.” (Matt. 28, 30.)

Well, then, does this Kingdom of God upon earth merit the appellation of St. Paul: “The Church of the living God” (Tim. 3. 15); and how evident that it must be “the pillar and ground of truth (Ibid)? How plain that the gates of hell will not prevail against it” (Matt. 16, 18)? How reasonable: “If he will not hear the Church, let him be to thee as the heathen and publican.” (Matt. 18, 17.) How logical: “He that heareth you heareth Me.” (Luke 10, 16.) IN VAIN DO THEY WORSHIP THE TEACHING DOCTRINES AND COMMANDMENTS OF MEN. (Matt. 15, 9).

How could the “Church of the Living God” with Christ’s identical mission have less authority to teach than Christ himself? Less power to remove sin? “As the Father hath sent Me, I also send you.” (John 20, 21.)

This sublime nature of the Church Christ founded, its divine origin, its supernatural character, preclude all possibility of one Church being as good as another, of there being any more than one church. In fact, any religion but His own, established 1900 years ago, is the invention of men and must be severely condemned by God. “He that despises you despises Me.” (Luke 10. 16.) He that is not with Me is against Me.” (Matt. 12, 30.) “And there shall be one fold and one shepherd.” (John 10, 16.) “How shall they preach unless they be sent” (Rom. 10, 15); “But though we, or an angel from Heaven, preach a gospel to you beside that which we have preached to you, let him be accursed.” (Gal. 1, 8.) How could any religious society not founded by God be as good as the one founded by Him? How could 500 contradictory sects founded by Henry VIII., Martin Luther, et al, be “the pillar and ground of truth” (1 Tim. 3, 15)? How can one church be as good as another, if one teaches truth and the other falsehood?

With non-Catholics the whole matter should resolve itself into a question of fact. Was Jesus Christ God? Yes or no? If not, there is no use proceeding, as the whole Christian platform falls and all Christianity is an imposition. If he was God, He is divine Truth., end all That He says and promises are true. Did He establish a visible Church? Yes or no? If He did not, there is no use hoping for it! If He did, then it is somewhere in the world today, for He declared it was to last until the end of the world (Luke I, 33.)

Did He guarantee His Church against error? Yes or no? If not, we never know when it must be believed: it is not a true guide; it cannot represent Him. If He did guarantee it against error, then it never has erred. (John 16, 13.) If men employ every means in their power for the perpetuation of their work, can we imagine that God left His great work to drift along unguided and unprotected? If the Bible teaches anything plainly it is the visibility of Christ’s Church. It is composed of rulers and subjects. (Acts 20, 28.) Its members are admitted by a visible external rite; they must hear, and obey. Christ compares His Church only to things visible; a “flock,” a “house,” a “body,” a “city seated on a mountain,” a “kingdom.” He calls it “My Church,” “THE” Church.

If the Church is not a visible organization, what can St. Luke mean by saying :”There were added (to the Church) 3000 souls?” What does the clause in the Apostles” Creed mean; “I believe in the holy Catholic Church?” What does St. Paul mean when he speaks of overseers appointed by the Holy Ghost “to rule the Church of God”? (Acts 20, 28.)

All history, pagan, Jewish, and Christian, informs us that Christ founded a Church on Peter some nineteen centuries ago, and that it was the only one having a right to call itself Catholic. Two Churches could not both be Catholic, as both could not have come directly from Christ, and have existed throughout the centuries since Christ, yet we have the “Catholic Episcopal,” “The Reformed Catholic,” etc., all owing their origin to Luther.

The recorded words of Christ in laying the foundation of His Church are : “Thou art Peter, and upon this rock I will build MyChurch.”

That edifice was built to last until the sunset of the ages. (Luke I, 38.) Christ did not say to Luther: “Thou art Martin, and on you I build My Church,” you shall establish a hierarchy and have your bishops, and be an Episcopalian, notwithstanding the many absurdities in point of doctrine of which you will be guilty.

“On you, Edward, I build My Church.” You will have an altar whereon to offer sacrifice.

“On you, James, I build My Church.” You shall have no altar in your Temple.

“On you, Henry, I build My Church.” You shall perpetuate My Last Supper by means of bread and wine, that are mere figures of the figurative expressions about My Body and Blood. “Feed My lambs, feed My sheep.”

Henry divorced his first wife groundlessly, killed his second, divorced his fourth, divorced (killed) his fifth.

Luther started German Protestantism, a new religion, just as Mahomet started a new religion. Now, what authority had the one more than the other to do such a thing?

Was Luther, an apostate monk and a breaker of vows, the right person to reform Christ’s own Church? Then, again, to deny the Sacraments, to defy legitimate authority, throw parts of the Bible away, etc., etc. Was that a wise Reformation?

IS IT POSSIBLE TO BELIEVE THAT JESUS FOUNDED A CHURCH TO MISLEAD THE WORLD, AND THEN AFTER 1500 YEARS APPROVED OF 500 CONTRADICTORY SECTS FOUNDED BY SUCH MEN AS THE ABOVE?

But you may say, the Protestant Church is the Church of Christ, purified of error, and only this purified form dates from Luther. I answer that you must choose between Luther and Christ. Jesus said His Church would never teach error (John 16, 13); Luther says it did teach error. If Luther is right, Christ is wrong; if Christ is right, Luther and all his followers are wrong.

Was Luther a man to be depended upon in the great concern of religion? Was he divinely inspired or called in an extra-ordinary manner? What star pointed to his birthplace? On what mountain was he transfigured? Why did God permit him to fall into so many absurdities in point of doctrine, a few of which are given here.

1.”“Thou shalt not covet” is a commandment which proves us all to be sinners; since it is not in any man’s power not to covet, and the same is the drift of all the commandments, for they are all equally impossible to us.” De Lib. Chris. tom. 4.2.

Here is God represented as a merciless tyrant commanding things which we have it not in our power to perform and punishing the non-performer with eternal torments.

1.”A person who is baptized cannot, though he would, lose his salvation by any sins how grievous soever, unless he refuses to believe. For no sins can damn him but unbelief alone.” Capt. Bob. tom. 2 fol. 74:1. (See James 2, 17, 20.)

2.”Sin boldly but believe more boldly. Let your faith be greater than your sin. It is enough for us, through the riches of the glory of God, to have known the Lamb of God Who taketh away the sins of the world. Sin will not destroy in us the reign of the Lamb, although we were to commit fornication or murder a thousand times in one day,” Luther; letter to Melanchthon, Aug. 1, 1521. Audin, p. 178.

3.”The papists teach that faith in Christ justifies, indeed, but that God’s commandments are to be kept.” Now this is directly to deny Christ and abolish faith, Ep. Ad. Gal. tom. 5, fol. 311:2.

4.”A prince may gain heaven by bloodshed better than by prayer.” Weimer Ed. Vol. 18, p. 358.

5.”It is not in opposition to the holy scriptures for a man to have several wives.” De-Wette. Vol. 2, p. 459.

Such are the teachings of the first socalled reformer of Christ’s Church, as may be verified by calling at any firstclass library.

But, you may say, was not the Church in a deplorable condition in the sixteenth century; were not the lives of some of its high clergy scandalous. I reply, yes; it is only too true, but Christ did not guarantee His Church from scandal, but against error (John 16, 13.) There were scandals in the Church even while Jesus was with it. Judas was a thief, a traitor, and a suicide; Peter, the head, swore to a falsehood; James and John quarrelled over supremacy; St. Peter and St. Paul were at variance over circumcision, and St. Paul excommunicated one of the faithful for unspeakable lust.

The Church is made up of men, not angels. The Triumph of the Church is not in being composed of sinless mortals, but in supplying sinful men with means to carry on the struggle against their vicious tendencies. For that reason the Catholic Church has always been the friend of sinners, although hating sin. But Jesus, by His Divine power, granted that His Church, even if composed of weak and sinful men, would never teach error. The Church may have needed house cleaning in the sixteenth century, but the way to clean house is not to dynamite it.

A child may have a very dirty face and yet be absolutely pure and healthy of skin. A doctor may be a bad man but a very good doctor. And the Church may have been scandalous in the lives of some of its higher dignitaries in the sixteenth century, but, nevertheless, it was absolutely free from error.-Rev. Arnold Damen, S.J.

THE ROSARY EXPLAINED

The Rosary helps Catholics to learn the Sacred Scriptures with the right spirit and enables them to know God better. Prayers in the Rosary, as in the Mass, are taken from the Bible, and are therefore a more perfect expression of our minds to the mind of God.

Rosary beads have been used from the earliest times to count prayers. According to a tradition, the Blessed Virgin appeared to St. Dominic, in the thirteenth century, and asked him to spread the devotion of the Rosary as an antidote against the heresies of the times.

The Rosary is comprised of fifteen decades, each consisting of one Our Father and ten Hail Marys. During the recitation of each decade, one mystery from the life of Our Lord or His Mother is contemplated upon.

It is customary to divide the Rosary into three parts, each part consisting of five decades or mysteries-namely, the Joyful. the Sorrowful, and the Glorious.

The five Joyful Mysteries are: The Annunciation to the Virgin Mary of Christ’s conception; her visit to her cousin, Elizabeth: the birth of Christ; His presentation in the Temple; and His discovery in the Temple by His parents, when, as a youth. He remained to dispute with the priests of the Temple. The five Sorrowful Mysteries are: Christ’s agony in the Garden of Gethsemane; His scourging at the pillar; His crowning with thorns; His carrying the Cross; His Crucifixion. The five Glorious Mysteries are: The Resurrection of Christ; His Ascension into Heaven; the descent of the Holy Ghost upon the Apostles; the assumption of the Blessed Virgin into Heaven; and her coronation as the Queen of Saints.-”Our Sunday Visitor,” Huntington, Ind.

CONFESSION

Confession was instituted by Christ on the day of His Resurrection, when He said to the first pastors of His Church: “As the Father hath sent Me I also send you.” (John 20, 21.) And then, as if to clear up all doubt as to His power, He im- mediately adds “Receive ye the Holy Ghost, whose sins ye shall forgivethey are forgiven them.” (John 20, 23.)

Even in the old law we see that confession was made to man as the restitution of the principal and fifth part must have been made to man. (Num. 5, 6, 7.)

If we confess our sins He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins.” (John 1, 9.) In other words, God, Who is faithful and just, will keep the promise He made to His first pastors when He said: “Whose sins you shall forgive they are forgiven.” (John 20, 23.)

Do you consider that a murderer makes a real confession by merely confessing his sins in his own mind to God? No. Almost every execution proves that he does not. From experience we know that it is much easier to tell God our sins in secret, than to go to a fellow man. But it is just this faith and humility that God asks.

In James 5, 16, we are told to confess our sins to one another and pray for one another that we may be saved. This, however, does not mean public or general confession to a friend or neighbour, who has no power to absolve and may destroy one’s character, but it does mean public or private confession to pastors of the Church to whom God has given the power to absolve. (John 20, 23.)

“And many that believed came, confessing their sins and showing their deeds, and many of them also which used curious arts brought their books together and burned them before all men and they counted the price at 50,000 pieces of silver.” (Acts 19, 18, 19.)

Why should they confess their sins, show their deeds, and turn their books, unless they were compelled to do so? Here we have contrition, confession, and satisfaction, which clearly shows that St. Paul and the converts of Ephesus did exactly as the pastors of the Catholic Church and their people do at the present day.

PURGATORY

Catholics believe that the generality of mankind are neither so obstinately wicked as to deserve everlasting punishment, nor so good as to merit being admitted into the society of God and His blessed Spirits; and therefore that God is graciously pleased to allow of a middle state where they may be purified by a certain degree of suffering. Is there anything unreasonable in this?

The following passages of Scriptures should be intensely interesting to sincere non-Catholics.

“Whoever speaketh against the Holy Ghost, it shall not be forgiven him, neither in this world, neither in the world to come.” (Matt. 12, 32.) Does this not show that some sins may be forgiven in the world to come? Otherwise, this passage of Scripture would be nonsensical.

“But I say unto you that every idle word that men speak, they shall give an account thereof, in the day of judgment.” (Matt. 12, 36.)

This shows there must be a place of temporal punishment hereafter where slighter faults shall be punished. Surely God will not consign men to hell for unrepented idle words.

Would a human judge order a man to be hanged for a slight \ infraction of law?

“If any man’s works burn he shall suffer loss, but he himself shall be saved yet so as by fire.” (1. Cor. 3, 15.)

“I tell thee thou shalt not depart hence, till thou hast paid the verylast mite.” (Luke 12, 59; Matt. 5, 26.)

Could the apostles have expressed more clearly their belief in PURGATORY than they have done here?

The doctrine of praying for the dead is plainly contained in the Old Testament, and piously practised to this day by the Hebrew people and three hundred and fifty million Catholics.

“And making a gathering he sent 12,000 drachms of silver to Jerusalem for sacrifice to be offered for the sins of the dead,thinking well and religiously concerning the resurrection.”

“It is, therefore, a holy and wholesome thought to pray for the dead, that they may be loosed from sins.” (11. Mach. 12, 43–46.)

Finding they could not, by evasion, weaken the force of this text, the reformers threw overboard the books of Machabees, like a man who assassinates a hostile witness.-OUR SUNDAY VISITOR.

ADORATION OF MARY?

It is false to assert that Catholics give the Supreme honour to Mary which is due to God alone. “Tis true Catholics retain pictures and statues of the Virgin and saints as a loving mother the pictures of her dear departed ones. “Tis also true that Catholics honour the Blessed Virgin and invoke her intercessions, believing she has the power to hear their prayers and help them. If the angels and saints can hear our prayers, and help us, why not she who is justly styled Queen of Angels and Saints? (Gen. 48, 15; Tobias 12, 12; Luke 15, 10; Zach. 1, 12–13; 1. Cor. 6, 3.)

In 2 Peter 1, 15, we read: “Moreover I will endeavour you may be able after my decease to have these things always in remembrance.” This shows that St. Peter believed in praying for his friends after his death.

St. John saw four and twenty ancients “who fell down before the Lamb and all had harps and golden vials full of odours, which are the prayers of the saints.” This proves that the saints in Heaven pray for us.

Mary was in God’s mind from all eternity, when He decreed that His Divine Son should become incarnate through her. She was referred to by God when He cursed the tempter of Eve.

“I shall place enmities between thee and the woman, thy seed and her seed.” (Gen. 3, 15.)

She was referred to by Isaiah: “A virgin shall conceive and bear a Son, and His name shall be called Emmanuel.” (Isaiah 7, 14.)

Thirtythree verses of St. Luke’s Gospel are devoted to her. An angel is sent from God to honour her in the name of God, to pronounce her “blessed among women,” to acquaint her with the lofty dignity to which God had deigned to elevate her.

Mary is not deserving of adoration, despite her dignity, but think you she deserves to be almost despised? Will Jesus count as His friends those who neglect or insult His Mother?

“Behold from henceforth all generations shall call me Blessed.” (Luke. 1, 48.) The Catholic is the only Church whose children, generation after generation, have pronounced her blessed. While some ministers of the gospel are loud in their praises of Sarah, Rebecca, Rachel, etc., they not only ignore Mary’s exalted virtues, but parade her alleged imperfections and sinfulness.

Father Faber answers the objections of those who misconstrue Catholic devotion to Mary, which is by no means an adoration, in these stanzas:

“But scornful men have coldly said,

Thy love was leading me from God;

And yet in this I did but tread

The very path my Saviour trod.”

CATHOLIC COUNTRIES UNPROGRESSIVE

This is another common charge against Catholics, who say in reply: “Look at poor Lazarus and look at rich Dives.” Were the early Christians, who were flung into the jaws of the lions, doomed to hell, while Nero and his crew were carried up to Heaven? Did Jesus come in purple and fine linen? Did He say to the poor, “Blessed are the rich, for theirs is the kingdom of Heaven?” Did He say, “The rich have the gospel preached to them? Did He say, “It is easier for a camel to crush through the eye of the needle than for a poor man to enter the kingdom of Heaven?”-Rev. Bernard Vaughan, S.J.

WHY PRIESTS DO NOT MARRY

Because Christ, the great exemplar of the clergy, Whose ambassadors they are, was not married; St. John the Baptist, the immediate forerunner of Christ, eulogised by Jesus as “the greatest man born of woman,” was not married.

St. John, the Apostle, the “disciple whom Jesus loved,” is known as “the virgin apostle.” The only apostle who was married, as far as can be learned, was St. Peter, and if he had a wife at the time he was called to the ministry, he left her, because he declared: “We have left all things and followed Thee.” (Matt. 19, 27.)

St. Paul distinctly tells us that he was not married (I. Cor. 7, 8), and he gives an excellent reason why the clergy should not marry. He says: “He that is without a wife is solicitous for the things that belong to the Lord, how he may please God. But he that is with a wife is solicitous for the things of the world, how he may please his wife, and he is divided.” (I. Cor. \7, 32–33.)

Now, if any person should be solicitous for the things of the Lord, the minister of Christ should be. He has taken the Lord as “the portion of his inheritance,” and should know no other love. Again, Paul tells us; “Every high priest taken from among men, is ordained for men in the things that appertain to God.” (Hell 5, 1.) He is ordained for men; his time, his talents, his life, belong to the people committed to his care; he must be a father to all his parishioners, and no family ties may stand in the way of efficient service.

But does not St. Paul authorize the marriage of the clergy when he says: “Have we not power to carry about a woman, a sister, as well as the rest of the Apostles?” The King James edition mistranslates this passage by substituting the word “WIFE” for “woman.” It is evident that St. Paul does not speak here of his wife, since he had none (I. Cor. 7, 8), but he alludes to those pious women who voluntarily waited on the Apostles, and ministered to them in their missionary journeys. (SEE PHILIPPIANS 4, 3.)

It is also objected that the Apostles seem to require that a Bishop be “the husband of one wife” (I. Tim. 3, 2.) The context certainly cannot mean that a Bishop must be a married man, for the reason already given, that St. Paul himself was never married. The sense of the text, as all tradition testifies, is that no candidate should be elected to the office of Bishop who has been married more than once. It was not possible in those days always to select single men for the Episcopal office. Hence, the Church was often compelled to choose married persons, but always with this restriction, that they had never contracted nuptials a second time.

THE BIBLE AN AUTHORITY ONLY IN CATHOLIC HANDS

IT IS NECESSARY TO PROVE RELIABILITY OF THE BOOK

A logical discussion between a Catholic and a Protestant on the thesis: “Which is the true Religion?” could not get beyond the starting point. The Protestant admits his church’s fallibility as well as his own; therefore, what does his interpretation of Scripture amount to? If he admits the infallibility of the Catholic Church, no arguments against her teaching can hold. If he rejects the infallibility of the Catholic Church, he kicks the ground from under his own feet, because without such infallibility he could not prove that the Bible contains God’s revelation at all. Yet he pretends to base his belief on that book.

Let us suppose an oral debate were to take place. To be logical, it would start something like this:

Catholic: Before launching into this discussion, it seems to me that we must first determine what will he the authority mutually recognized whereby we shall each endeavour to prove our claims.

Protestant: Agreed; and it goes without saying that this authority will be the Bible.

Cath.: But the Bible can be reliable authority only for me.

Prot.: What impertinence! Every Protestant recognizes the Bible as authority; in fact, the only authority in religious matters.

Cath.: But most inconsistently; and surely it cannot be so regarded by these judges, who are to decide the merits of our arguments in this debate.

Prot.: Why, I do not understand you; and I doubt whether the judges, or anyone else here present, understands you.

Cath.: Then I will explain: Neither you nor the judges are sure that the Bible contains God’s revelation, pure and unadulterated, whilst I am. If you are not sure of this, how can you appeal to it as decisive authority?

Prot: But I am sure of it. .

Cath.: I would be pleased to hear your proofs. And you surely will concede that the reliability of the Bible as undisputed authority, must be settled before we can presume to prove anything from it.

Prot.: Why, where is there a Protestant Christian who hesitates to accept the Bible as a book containing God’s revelation? And, since the judges are not unbelievers, why try to prove what is accepted as a fact?

Cath.: Our audience will probably comprise some unbelievers; and, even if it did not, since our arguments are to be supported by the Bible, the solidity of this foundation is the first point to prove.

Prot.: It is a recognized fact, both by yourself and me, and that should be sufficient.

Cath.: It is a fact accepted solely on my Church’s word, which you claim may err, and, therefore, might have erred when she declared the Bible’s authenticity and inspiration. Moreover, there are many in this audience, possibly some of our judges, who are not sure that the Holy Bible is what we claim for it.

Prot.: Anyone familiar with the Bible must be convinced that it was written at the instigation of God.

Cath.: Some parts of the Old Testament bear contrary ear-marks. The Mohammedans say about the Koran, and the Mormons about Joe Smith’s Revelations, what you say about the Bible; yet you and I and millions of others fail to see it that way. No book or written document proves its own authenticity. A last will or other important document is accepted as genuine only when proved to be so by credible living witnesses. Moreover, none of the Apostolic writings, unless it be Revelation, whose authenticity many Protestants deny, assert their own inspiration. St. Paul tells us that “all Scripture divinely inspired is profitable,” but he nowhere tells us what portion or books are inspired. The present Bible omits many writings which were long reputed to be inspired.

Prot.: There were such witnesses as you demand.

Cath.: Do you know this from the Bible?

Prot.: No.

Cath.: Then even your first act of faith is not based on the Bible; is not supported by the Bible; yet you say the Bible is the sole foundation of the faith which you profess. If you cannot prove the first fundamental of your creed by the Bible, how can you say that the Bible is your only rule of faith? More-over, consistency is the first requisite which judges must require of a disputant. If the “Bible and Bible only” theory and the “Private Judgment” theory are the boasts of Protestants, people must needs expect that they are provable.

Prot.: I have said that we have witnesses to prove the genuineness of the Bible, but you do not admit them.

Cath.: Because that is tantamount to an admission of Tradition as a “Rule of Faith,” which you reject. However, tell me who those witnesses are.

Prot: The early Christian writers.

Cath.: Not very early, because the New Testament writings were not gathered together and declared to be divinely inspired, until the fourth century. Moreover, these witnesses were Catholics, and accepted the Scriptures as divinely inspired, because their Church declared them to be so. Was their Church infallible then?

Prot.: I am not prepared to grant that it was.

Cath.: Then how can you hold as an infallible truth that the writings known as the Sacred Scriptures, for whose reliability you have the Catholic Church’s word alone, are inspired? It is, as I foreknew; you simply take for granted and most in-consistently (because you say you accept nothing in religion unless it is supported by the Bible), that the Bible contains God’s revelation. You take more than this for granted-viz., that followers of the Catholic Church transcribed and translated the original writings without marking any errors, that they never altered a line, that they preserved them until the sixteenth century in their original purity and sameness. Unless you grant all this, while believing that the Catholic Church fell into gross errors otherwise, you cannot appeal to the Scriptures, as they now exist, as divine authority.

PROT.:—(SILENT)

THE FIRST AND NECESSARY CAUSE

The mind of man cannot help recognizing purpose and finality in nature’s operations. Mere chance, for example, cannot ac-count for the complex arrangement of the countless parts that combine to form the retina of the human eye, or the marvellous makeup of a bird’s wing.

Not only is order everywhere present in nature, but beauty meets us on every side, whether in the sky, upon the earth, or in the ocean’s depth. We see it in the gorgeous colouring of the sunset and in the bright plumage of the humming bird; in the daintiness of the tiniest fern and in the massive strength of the giant redwood; in the grace of the fleet-footed antelope; in the inspired lyric, in the ordered symphony, and in the world’s masterpieces of painting and sculpture.

Does not this order of beauty proclaim, as Lord Kelvin, a great British scientist, stated, “overwhelming proofs of intelligence and benevolent design, establishing the existence of a Supreme Being of incredible wisdom, power, and goodness?”

We can easily show how all living things, men, animals, and plants, are dependent and succeed by generation after generation, The first man that ever thought, he, too, could see all around him, including himself, and was dependent. Dependent on what? Ah, that’s the question. If all Being is dependent, in the name of common sense, what is it dependent on? There is only one answer-there must be a Supreme Being that began all other being, and upon which all other being is dependent. The person who denies independent Being-God-denies, even if he doesn’t realize it-all Being-including his own existence.

From “Use Your Reason,” by Joseph O’Connor, and “The Question Box,” by Rev. B. L. Conway, C.S.P.

THE REASON FOR A PERSONAL GOD

The world everywhere gives evidence of design. Just as a watch must have a designer, so also the universe. Any being who can design is a person. A person who designs must first think about it, then wish it, and finally accomplish it. No one but a person can design anything, and as the universe had a designer, that designer must, therefore, be a Person, Whom we call God.

The designer of the universe is a Person for the additional reason that He has created man, and man is a person. Since God has produced man, God cannot be a mere impersonal being, or a blind form.

No effect can be greater than its cause, and as man is a person his Creator must be a Person.

The existence of a Personal God is certain, even though we cannot discover God by any physical means. The telescope cannot find God in the heavens, j u s t as the microscope cannot find the Soul in man on earth.

We see only the house, as it were, and not the tenant within, and yet the existence of each is most certain.

Since God is a Person, He must have a free will-that is, He is a free force, since no merely natural force is free. Natural forces are fixed, chained, unalterable, since they always and everywhere act according to the same rigid and inflexible laws.

(From “INSIDE FACTS ABOUT THE CATHOLIC CHURCH,” by Thomas J. Coakley, D.D.)

MAN IS MORE THAN MATTER

Man thinks. Mere matter cannot, so man is more than matter. Man commands and controls matter, so he is superior to it. Man invents and composes, something neither matter nor animals can do. Man looks into the future and plans for what may happen; he calculates possibilities and probabilities, foresees contingencies and makes conditional or absolute arrangements. After making plans he may change them or discard them. Animals do everything by fixed laws, called instinct. Plants follow the laws of vegetable life. Except by man’s interference, animals and plants are dominated by nature’s fixed laws.

But man dominates himself, he is superior to environment, the lure of the senses, and his own inclinations. And, above all, it is in the realm of the immaterial that he shows he is more than matter.

Man has ideas of things which the senses do not reach, as, for instance, eternity, infinitude, futurity, honour, etc., etc. There is, therefore, in man something more than sense-perception such as animals have. Animals act by instinct, which never varies, whereas man acts as he wills. Of his own accord he may do what pains him and cease doing what pleases him. There is, therefore, in man a power superior to matter, which thinks, invents, and also dominates matter. Hence man is more than matter.

(From “Christ or Choas,” by Martin J. Scott, S.J.)

WHERE DOES MAN COME FROM?

From reason itself, if we use it aright, we know that man is composed of body and soul, that he is made up of body and spirit.

Sound metaphisical psychology teaches us that, while we have a body that is in many ways like to the bodies of brute animals around us, we have a soul that is not matter, but is spiritual, Reason itself teaches us that this soul, being spiritual, could not by any means, under any circumstances, have come from an animal soul, and that, therefore, the evolution of a human soul from an animal soul is sheer impossibility. To speak of “the mind in the making” is to talk nonsense.

Reason further teaches us that this soul, being spiritual, is, therefore, immortal. When a tree or animal dies, its principle of life-i.e., its soul-just ceases to be. Like the light of a lamp, it does not go anywhere; it just goes out. When a man dies it is the separation of his soul from his body, and the soul persists in “existence.”

Moreover we hold as reasonable men that, since the soul is spiritual, it cannot come from matter, cannot come from the parents, but is, in each and every individual case, created by God.

(From “What is a Catholic Attitude?” by Francis B. LeBuffe, S.J. )

DOES MAN NEED RELIGION?

Religion is not and cannot be ruled out of man’s concern. Man by nature turns to religion. No race or tribe known to mankind is without religion of some sort. Whatever is part of man, wherever man exists is natural to him. And what is natural to man cannot be in itself false, since it is attributable to the author of human nature. A particular form of religion may be false, but not religion as such, which is a relationship between man and his Maker. A particular religion may or may not be true, but religion in itself is as true as God.

Religion presupposes an intelligent superior power and an intelligent dependent being, man, between whom there can be rational communication. Man’s power of choice and his ability to deal with intangibles prove that he is an intelligent being. We have, therefore, the intelligent power above and the intelligent power below. It is only rational that communication should exist between these two intelligences, just as a child may hold communication with person of mature intellect.

(From “Religious Certainty,” by Martin J. Scott, S.J.)

WHAT RELIGION DOES MAN NEED?

Does man need one or all of the contradictory religions founded by men during the past 400 years . . . or does he need the Visible Church founded by Christ, which is still on earth like a city on the mountain top in every part of the world, despite the persecutions, slanders, and armed attacks from all nations for 1900 years?

Many people are of opinion that it makes no difference what one believes; but only that one lives a sober and upright life.

Now, some religions teach polygamy; some encourage concubinage; some have indecent acts among their socalled sacred rites and some worship false gods. Of the 500 religions founded during the past 400 years there are no two that agree in teaching and practice; what one holds as true the other rejects as false; what one reckons as holy, the other condemns as insulting to God.

As a matter of fact, since all those 500 sects teach contradictory doctrines, it is evident that some teach falsehood. Well, then, if we hold that these Churches are all equally good, do we not say implicitly that falsehood is as good as truth?

It is an historical fact that Jesus Christ established a Church, not merely for those who lived in His day, but for all mankind to the end of the world, to be His living Voice and to administer the Sacraments of His ordaining.

Unless, therefore, there is a church in the world from the days of Our Lord, which declares unmistakably what Christ was, and what He taught, Christ might just as well have revealed nothing, for, without a means of infallible interpretation of His Doctrine, it would have perished and become distorted.

In these words Our Lord gave the Apostles their commission to teach His Doctrine, and promised His abiding presence with them.

“All power is given to me in Heaven and on earth, going, therefore, teach ye all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost, teaching them to observe all things whatsoever I have commanded you. And behold I am with you all days even to the consummation of the world.” (Matt. 28, 18, 20.)

By these words it is clear that Our Lord was speaking to His apostles in their official capacity, for as individuals they would pass away in a few years.

This propagation of His Doctrine Christ committed to His apostles as an official body, which He declared to be His teaching Church, and which the Apostles declared (in “The Apostles’ Creed”) to be “The Holy Catholic Church,” which is functioning from that moment to the present, and is still Catholic (universal) in every part of the world.

Our Lord gives pre-eminence to St. Peter over the other Apostles in these words: “I will give to thee the keys of the kingdom of Heaven.” (Matt. 16, 19.) “Confirm thy brethren.” (Luke 22, 32.) “Feed My lambs, feed My sheep.” (John 21, 15–17.)

Copied from Catholic authors.

THE DIVINITY OF CHRIST

For 4000 years a chain of prophets came one after another with constancy and without variation, predicting the coming of Christ and His Divinity, regarding both time and manner.

Perhaps the most convincing proof that Christ claimed to be God was when He was put on His solemn oath to testify truly. The High Priest said: “I adjure Thee by the living God, that Thou tell us if Thou be the Christ, the Son of man sitting at the right hand of the Power of God, and coming in the clouds of Heaven.” (Matt. 26, 63, 64; Mark 14, 62.)

The High Priest and people understood Jesus to mean that He was God in the true sense, for immediately they adjudged Him guilty of blasphemy and deserving of death.

For gain or to escape calamity, a man may swear to what is false; but no man will lie if it is going to condemn him to a painful death.

Our Lord also says: “I and My Father are one.” (John 10, 30.) “Before Abraham was I am;” “All power is given Me in Heaven and in earth.” (Matt. 28, 18.)

The gospels, which have never been successfully refuted, tell us of the miracles wrought by Christ, such as the sudden cures of deaf, dumb, blind, lepers, the interruption of storms, changing water into wine, His walking on the waves, etc.

He foretold His denial by Peter, His betrayal by Judas, and every circumstance of His Passion and death, the mocking, the scourging, the crowning with thorns, the crucifixion: The trials, persecution, and martyrdom which would come to His Apostles and the survival of His Church through the centuries.

But the sign that Christ Himself offered as absolute proof of His Divinity was the crowning miracle of His resurrection from the dead.

“Destroy this Temple and in three days I shall raise it up again,” and “No other sign shall he given this evil and adulterous generation than the sign of Jonas, the prophet.” . . . He did arise from the dead as only God could do, and hence it is that the Church says, with St. Paul, “If Christ be not risen from the dead, then is your faith in vain.”-FROM OUR SUNDAY VISITOR AND CATHOLIC AUTHORS.

CATHOLIC CHURCH ABSTRACT OF TITLE FROM ST. PETER TO PRESENT POPE AS RECORDED IN HISTORY AND IN THE REGISTERS OF THE CATHOLIC CHURCH

Every believer in the Divinity of Christ confesses that He was the TRUTH; therefore, any departure from His doctrine must have been away from the TRUTH, and any reformation of His Church or moral standard would change the TRUTH into a falsehood. The word of the Lord endureth for ever. (Horn. 1, 25.) Therefore, in the matter of which Church there should be no room for opinion. What the Son of God taught is all fact.

HERE IS THE ABSTRACT OF TITLE OF THE CATHOLIC CHURCH. without a single break, brought down from ST. PETER to the present Pontiff.

AB STRACTS-SUP REME PONTIFFS

St. Peter 33 65–67 St. Linus 67 79 St. Cletus 79 91 St. Clement I 91 100 St. Evaristus 100 109 St. Alexander 109 119 St. Sixtus 119 126 St. Telesphorus 128 137 St. Hyginus 138 142 St. Pius . . 142 156 St. Anicentus . . 157 167 St. Soter 168 176 St. Eleutherus 177 189 St. Victor I 190 202 St. Zephyrinus 202 217 St. Calixtus I. 218 222 St. Urban I. 222 230 St. Pontianus 230 235 St. Anterus 235 236 St. Fabian 236 250 St. Cornelius 251 253 St. Lucius 253 254 St. Stephen I 254 257 St. Sixtus II 257 258 St. Dionysius 259 268 St. Felix 269 274 St. Eutychianus 275 283 St. Gaius 283 296 St. Marcellinus 296 304 St. Marcellus 307 309 St. Eusebius 309 309 St. Meichiades 310 314 St. Slyvester 314 335 St. Mark 336 336 St. Julius 337 352 St. Liberus 352 366 St. Damasus 366 384 St. Siricus 384 398 St. Anastasius I 398 401–2 St. Innocent I. 402 417 St. Zosimus 417 418 St. Boniface I. . . . . . . 418 422 St. Celestine I. . . . . . . 422 432 St. Sixtus III. . . . .. . . . 432 440 St. Leo I. . . . .. . . . .. . . . . . 440 461 St. Hilary. . . . .. . . . . . . . 461 468 St. Simplicius. . . . . . . 468 483 St. Felix III. . . . .. . . . . . 483 492 St. Gelasius. . . . .. . . . . 492 496 St. Anastasius II . . . 496 498 St. Symmachus. . . . . 498 514 St. Hormisdas. . . . . . . 514 523 St. John I. . . . .. . . . .. . . . 523 526 St. Felix IV. . . . .. . . . . . 526 530 Boniface. . . . .. . . . .. . . . . 530 532 John II. . . . .. . . . .. . . . . . . . 532 535 St. Agapetus I. . . . . . . 535 536 St. Silverius. . . . .. . . . . 536 537 Vigilius. . . . .. . . . .. . . . . . 537 555 Pelagius II. . . . .. . . . . . . 555 560 John III. . . . .. . . . .. . . . . . . 560 573 Benedict I. . . . .. . . . . . . . 574 578 Pelagius I. . . . .. . . . . . . . 555 560 St. Gregory I. . . . . . . . 590 604 Sabinianus. . . . .. . . . . . . 604 606 Boniface III. . . . .. . . . . 607 607 St. Boniface IV. . . . 608 615 St. Deusdedit. . . . . . . . 615 618 Boniface V. . . . .. . . . . . 619 625 Honorius. . . . .. . . . .. . . . 625 638 Severinus. . . . .. . . . .. . . . 640 640 John IV. . . . .. . . . .. . . . . . . 640 642 Theodore I. . . . .. . . . . . . 642 649 St. Martin. . . . .. . . . . . . 649 655 St. Eugenius I. . . . . . . 655 657 St. Vitalianus. . . . . . . . 657 672 Adeodatus. . . . .. . . . . . . 672 676 Donus. . . . .. . . . .. . . . .. . . . 676 678 St. Agatho 678 681 St. Leo II. . . . .. . . . .. . . . 682 683 St. Benedict II. . . . . . 684 685 John V. . . . .. . . . .. . . . . . . . 685 686 Conon 686 687 St. Sergius I 687 701 John VI. 701 705 John VII 705 707 Sisinnius 708 708 Constantine I 708 715 St. Gregory II. 715 731 St. Gregory III. 731 741 St. Zacharias 741 752 Stephen II 752 752 Stephen III 752 757 St. Paul I 757 767 Stephen IV 768 772 Hadrian I 772 795 St. Leo III 795 816 Stephen V 816 817 St. Paschal I 817 824 Eugenius II 824 827 Valentinus 827 827 Gregory IV. 827 844 Sergius II 844 847 St. Leo IV 847 855 Benedict III 855 858 St. Nicholas I 858 867 Hadrian II 867 872 John VIII 872 882 Marinus I 882 884 Hadrian III 884 885 Stephen VI 885 891 Formosus 891 896 Boniface VI 896 896 Stephen VI-II. 896 897 Romanus 897 897 Theodore II 897 897 John IX 898 900 Benedict IV 900 903 Leo V 903 903 Christopher 903 904 Sergius III 904 911 Anastasius 911 913 Lando 913 914 John X 914 929 Leo VI . . . 928 929 Stephen VIII. 929 931 John XI 931 936 Gregory VIII 1187 1187 Clement III 1187 1191 Celestine III 1191 1198 Innocent III 1198 1216 Honorius III 1216 1227 Gregory IX 1227 1241 Celestine IV. 1241 1241 Innocent IV. 1243 1254 Alexander IV. 1254 1261 Urban IV 1261 1264 Clement IV. 1265 1268 Gregory X 1271 1276 Innocent V 1276 1276 Hadrian V 1276 1276 John XXI 1276 1277 Nicholas III 1277 1280 Martin IV 1281 1285 Honorius IV 1285 1287 Nicholas IV 1288 1292 St. Celestine V 1294 1294 Boniface VIII 1294 1303 Benedict XI 1303 1304 Clement V 1305 1314 John XXII 1316 1334 Benedict XII 1334 1342 Clement VI. . . . .. . . . . . 1342 1352 Innocent VI. . . . .. . . . . 1352 1362 Urban V. . . . .. . . . .. . . . . 1362 1370 Gregory XI. . . . .. . . . . . 1370 1378 Urban VI. . . . .. . . . .. . . . 1378 1379 Boniface IX. . . . .. . . . . 1389 1404 Innocent VII. . . . .. . . . 1404 1406 Gregory XII. . . . .. . . . 1406 1417 Martin V. . . . .. . . . .. . . . . 1417 1431 Eugenius IV. . . . .. . . . 1431 1447 Nicholas V. . . . .. . . . . . 1447 1455 Calixtus III. . . . .. . . . . . 1455 1458 Pius II. . . . .. . . . .. . . . .. . . . 1458 1464 Paul II. . . . .. . . . .. . . . .. . . . 1464 1471 Sixtus IV. . . . .. . . . .. . . . 1471 1484 Innocent VIII. . . . . . . 1484 1492 Alexander VI. . . . . . . 1492 1503 Pius III. . . . .. . . . .. . . . . . . 1503 1503 Julius II . . . 1503 1513

Leo X. . . . .. . . . .. . . . .. . . . 1513 1521

Hadrian VI,. . . . .. . . . . 1522 1523

Clement VII. . . . .. . . . 1523 1534

Paul III. . . . .. . . . .. . . . . . . 1534 1549

Julius III. . . . .. . . . .. . . . . 1550 1555

Marcellus II. . . . .. . . . . 1555 1555

Paul IV. . . . .. . . . .. . . . . . . 1555 1559

Pius IV. . . . .. . . . .. . . . . . . 1559 1565

St. Pius V. . . . .. . . . . . . . 1566 1572

Gregory XIII. . . . . . . . 1572 1585

Sixtus V. . . . .. . . . .. . . . . 1585 1590

Urban VII. . . . .. . . . . . . . 1590 1590

Gregory XIV. . . . . . . . 1590 1591

Innocent IX. . . . .. . . . . 1591 1591

Clement VIII. . . . . . . . 1592 1605

Leo XI. . . . .. . . . .. . . . . . . . 1605 1605

Paul V. . . . .. . . . .. . . . . . . . 1605 1621

Gregory XV. . . . .. . . . 1621 1623

Urban VIII. . . . .. . . . . . 1623 1644

Innocent X. . . . .. . . . . . 1644 1655

Alexander VII. . . . . . 1655 1667

Clement IX. . . . .. . . . . . 1667 1669

Clement X. . . . .. . . . . . . 1670 1676

Innocent XI. . . . .. . . . . 1676 1689

Alexander VIII. . . . . 1689 1691

Innocent XII. . . . .. . . . 1691 1700

Clement XI. . . . .. . . . . . 1700 1721

Innocent XIII. . . . . . . 1721 1724

Benedict XIII. . . . . . . 1724 1730

Clement XII. . . . .. . . . 1730 1740 Benedict XIV. . . . . . . 1740 1758 Clement XIII. . . . . . . . 1758 1769 Clement XIV. . . . . . . . 1769 1774 Pius VI. . . . .. . . . .. . . . . . . 1775 1799 Pius VII. . . . .. . . . .. . . . . . 1800 1823 Leo XII. . . . .. . . . .. . . . . . . 1823 1829 Pius VIII. . . . .. . . . .. . . . 1829 1830 Gregory XVI. . . . . . . 1831 1346 Pius IX. . . . .. . . . .. . . . . . . 1846 1877 Leo XIII. . . . .. . . . .. . . . . 1877 1903 Pius X . . . 1903 1914 Benedict XV. . . . . . . 1914 1922 Pius XI. . . . .. . . . .. . . . . . . 1922 1939 Pius XII. 1939

IS THE CATHOLIC CHURCH THE CHURCH OF THE IGNORANT?

Well, maybe. But note this only partial list of the many brilliant minds in the literary field alone who, in recent memory, have come into the Catholic Church in adult life, with eyes wide open:

Sheila Keye-Smith, Sigrid Undset, Paul Claudel, G. K. Chesterton, Compton Mackenzie, Alfred Noyes, Joyce Kilmer, F. Marion Crawford, Giovanni Papini, Johannes Jorgensen, Maurice Baring, Theodore Maynard, Ronald Knox, Sir Bertram C. A. Windle, Shane Leslie, “Richard Dehan,” Max Pemberton, John L. Stoddard, Aubrey de Vere, Robert Hugh Benson, Coventry Patmore, “Artemus Ward,” Joel Chandler Harris, Michael Williams, Rose Hawthorne, “John Ayscough,” Henry Harland, C. C. Martindale, Richard Lynn Edsal, Robert H. Lord, Lucas Malet, Mary Angela Dickens, Cecil Chesterton, Frank H. Spearman, Selden P. Delany, Charles Warren Stoddard, Isabel Clarke, Mrs. Hugh Fraser, Wilfred Meynell, Enid Dinnis, George Parsons Lathrop, Katherine E. Conway, C. Kegan Paul, “Guy Thorne.” John William Conybear, Anita Bartle, Edwin Harrison Barker, Olive Constance, Dom Bede Camm, John Swinnerton, Norman Wise, John Moody (founder, Moody’s Magazine), etc., etc.

Of 3000 American converts, 372 were Protestant clergymen, 115 doctors, 126 lawyers, 45 former members of Congress, 12 governors of States, 180 Army and Navy officers, and 206 authors, musicians and persons of cultural prominence. These figures were gleaned from a recent issue of “OUR SUNDAY VISITOR.”

“LORD, THAT I MAY SEE.” SUCH WAS THE CRY OF THE MAN OF THE GOSPEL. SUCH IS THE CRY OF MANY TODAY EARNESTLY SEARCHING FOR THE TRUTH. IT HAS BEEN THE PURPOSE OF THIS LITTLE BOOKLET TO DISPEL ALL DOUBT AND CONFUSION. IT IS ATTENDED WITH THE PRAYER THAT YOU, DEAR READER, MAY EXPERIENCE THE HAPPINESS THAT COMES FROM A CLEAR UNDERSTANDING OF THE TEACHINGS OF CHRIST AND HIS CHURCH.

PRAYER FOR TRUTH

If I am right Thy grace impart. Still in that right to stay;

If I am wrong, then guide my heart To find a better way.

“A GOOD STEWARD OF THE MANIFOLD GRACE OF GOD “-I PETER, IV., 10

Peter O’Donnell was a man of one book. This book. He never wrote another. In truth, he did not write this. But twenty years ago God put it into the heart of this retired Chicago policeman to grow wrathful at the calumnies he heard against the Catholic Church from ranters on the Long Beach pier, and God guided him in compiling and copying from authentic sources the truths you have read herein. More, God answered Peter’s prayers, through His Blessed Mother, for means to carry this message into the strongholds of the enemy.

Peter died as his pamphlet was entering its third million in circulation. The Archbishop of Los Angeles preached at the funeral. The Missionary Cathechists made up a fourth of the congregation, for Peter had been their co-founder and patron. Priests and prelates whose missions he had builded prayed God’s mercy on his soul. But the invisible supplicants were not to be numbered by man, for only the judgment scroll will reveal how far the lamp of the “Catholic Literature Society” has shone, or how many, led by the brave beacon of the policeman of God, have stumbled out of the dark into the Light that is Life.

We know only that Peter’s book has been translated into Chinese, by “The . . .” of Hong Kong; into Bangoli, by the Missionary Library of St. Joseph’s, Dindigul, India; and into Spanish, by the Revista Catolica, at El Paso, Texas. We know that missionaries count upon it in increasing quantities in their struggles with ignorance and indifference, with Rutherford and ruthlessness. And we know from the dog-eared letters that Peter bore about with him of those scores of souls whose gratitude at having at last discovered and dropped anchor in the harbour of truth found expression in words addressed to the “Catholic Literature Society: Dear Sirs.” Only in heaven will they come to know this other Peter who let down his nets by the sea.

Of your charity, remember his soul. And may we to whom he has thrown the torch continue to be inspired by his example, and carry on, God guiding, as courageous and humble children of Holy Mother Church.

CATHOLIC LITERATURE SOCIETY

CATHOLICS DO NOT BELIEVE

That the Pope has temporal rights in the United States.

That the Pope is God and can do no wrong.

That the Pope can claim political allegiance.

That the Pope can nullify laws, oaths, or contracts.

That Protestant husbands and wives are living in sin.

That marriages of Protestants are invalid.

That the children of Protestants are illegitimate.

That contracts with Protestants may be broken.

That Protestants may be hated or persecuted.

That Protestants will all be damned.

That public schools are an evil.

That they ought to be abolished or destroyed.

That education ought not to be universal and free.

That they can buy forgiveness of sin.

That they can purchase freedom from Purgatory.

That they can get indulgence to commit sin.

That sin can be forgiven without repentance.

That images can be worshipped.

That any body or thing may be worshipped or adored but the One True God. That the Blessed Virgin Mary is equal to God.

That divorce should be countenanced or allowed.

That Baptism is not necessary to salvation.

CATHOLICS DO BELIEVE

That truth is one; therefore, there can be but one true religion.

That unity of doctrine is essential; and only one religion has this unity of doctrine.

Clothes do not make the man.

That trust in God and His mercy without faith and good works is presumption.

That philanthropy is not God-like charity.

That mysteries and doctrines of the Church are not against reason, but may be above reason.

That Baptism is necessary for salvation.

That there must be an infallible authority to interpret the Bible; man’s reason is not infallible.-OUR SUNDAY VISITOR, Huntington, Ind.

WHAT PROTESTANT HISTORIANS SAY

DEAN STANLEY -”Life and Lett. of Dean Stanley,” Vol. I, p. 151: “I am convinced that Protestantism in general treats Catholics with shameful ignorance and unfairness.”

DR. SCHAFF-”POUT. EXCL. COND. Z. S.,” P. 239: “THE ROMAN CATHOLIC CHURCH IS BEMIRED FROM DAY TO DAY WITH ALL POSSIBLE CALUMNIES.”

********

The Truth About Lies

BY REV. WILLIAM P. O”KEEFFE, C.M

INDEX

All Hallows College, Dublin

A LITTLE personal reminiscence that has the happy merit of being true may serve as an introduction to this booklet on Lying.

In January, 1937, I happened to be travelling by train from Dublin to Cork. My immediate neighbour in the compartment was a middle-aged gentleman of obvious education and culture, with whom a friendly cigarette soon brought me into conversation. What first served to fix the incident in my memory was the nature of the topics we discussed. They were all of a serious kind, so different from what one might have expected in the circumstances. The weather, for example, and the superficial political issues of the moment were not mentioned, but we spoke, instead, of the different vocations in life, of the value of discipline in the training of youth, and so on. My companion had refreshingly independent views on all these matters. He had, I really believe, the temperament of a pioneer scientist, who tries to bring an unbiased and unprejudiced mind to bear on all the problems that confronted him. He was a Catholic which possibly explained his apology after more than an hour’s conversation for having taken up so much of my time. “You, of course,” he said, “will want to read some of your breviary.” “That may be,” I replied, “but I should like to say I have found this conversation very pleasant. Too many people are so unlike you, unfortunately, in that they take ready-made views on life.” Then came my surprise, for he answered: “Yes, they do; and as a child I did also. I even believed absolutely and unquestioningly in every word of the Catechism.” “But you don’t still? I asked. “Oh, no,” he said. “I know most of it is true, but there are several things I see are put into it somewhat equivocally, because children couldn’t be brought up to understand a more accurate expression of them.” Curiosity compelled me to ask him for a sample. “Well,” he said, “take lying. The Catechism says lying is wrong and no motive, however good, could excuse a lie, because a lie is always sinful and bad in itself.” And what do you find wrong in that?” I asked. “It seems very clear and unequivocal to me, and even a child could see some force and meaning in the explanation.” “Oh,” he said, “I don’t believe any more that all lies are bad, and I think there are many motives could excuse a lie. I should not hesitate to tell a lie, if it would get another person out of serious trouble. I should feelbound to do so.” “Now, Father,” said one of our fellow-travellers, “you’ll have to stand up for the Catechism and I am afraid we’ll be in Cork before you get a chance to read that breviary.” I laughed, and remembering the principle we learned in our Logic class, that an argument should begin with an attempt at defining the terms to be used in it, I asked the sceptic what he meant by a lie. The question took him by surprise. Like Saint Augustine with regard to time, he said he knew what it was quite well, but couldn’t explain it properly. Finally, he decided it was “saying what you don’t believe.” “Very good,” said I; “and now if I were to tell you that I jumped over the moon last night, would that be a lie?”

“I wouldn’t believe you,” he said. “I should hope not,” I answered, but it seems to fit your definition of a lie just the same, and I want to know would you call it a lie.” He pondered for awhile, and to the great amusement of the rest of the company, said:

“Begor, Father, I don’t know. It is, and it isn’t.” I suggested he was being rather unreasonable in criticising the Catechism doctrine on lying without knowing what a lie was, and then followed up this argumentum ad hominem, which was in reality too like taking a mean advantage of an honourable gentleman, with a more satisfactory defence of truth. This seemed to interest my listeners so much that there and then I decided on trying at some future date to commit my ideas to print. It is most fitting that my little idea should come to realization through the kindness of a Society devoted in vocation and name to the spread of the Catholic Truth in Ireland.

A lie is one of those things that are so simple that it is next to impossible to define them clearly and comprehensively. My friend in the train was however, right when he remarked that a lie is “saying something you don’t believe”-thought he would have put the thing more accurately, more comprehensively, had he used the word “conveyed” instead of “saying.” Obviously a lie can be told in other ways besides by speech. I can shake my head in denial, for instance, when my conscience tells me that the correct, the truthful thing to do is to nod in assent. I can put an enquiring traveller astray by pointing to what I know to be the wrong direction. More pertinent still, I can write my falsehoods in a letter, or spend a lot of time industriously concocting false returns for my Income Tax Inspector. So, any form of expression can be used falsely.

But not all false expressions of thought should be labelled “lies.” To rank as lies, properly understood, they must be intended or calculated to deceive. This is common sense. Tales that are too tall to be believed by any normal person, for example, are not regarded as downright lies. They are only yarns. Take the story of the heavily-bearded man who was having his teeth seen to.

“Open your mouth, please,” said the dentist. The beard replied: “But it is open.”

Or take the tale told by the traveller from darkest Africa.

“There I was, unarmed and alone. Suddenly a huge lion came dashing up to devour me, his slavering jaws wide open. Methought my last hour had come.”

“And what did you do?”

“What did I do? I reached down his throat, caught him by the tail and pulled him inside out.”

Wild flights of fancy and extravagant imagination of this kind are not genuine lies. They deceive nobody outside the ranks of the feeble-minded.

Another way by which a lie ceases to be a lie is by convention-particular or general.

Particular convention: the private code. One may make an arrangement whereby the person for whom alone the statement in question is intended will understand its true meaning. Thus, a businessman may instruct his agents to~ send him messages in code to protect him against unscrupulous competitors; and a message from an agent reading: “Don’t buy” will be interpreted by him, correctly, as meaning: “Get hold of all you can.”

General convention. This method of eliminating the deceptive element in false statements explains away many of the apparent lies of civilized society. Regard for the neighbour and a desire to make the truth less hurtful and less unpleasant have evolved a number of formulae, of which normal people easily understand the correct significance. Society has tacitly agreed that if I anticipate trouble from a visitor and have no wish to interview him, I may lawfully tell the maid to say I am “not at home,” or I am engaged,” and she will tell no lie in following these instructions. Social usage has crystallised these conventional formulae, and any deception of the caller is more correctly attributed to his own folly than to the use of the false phrase. Human society demands of those who enter it a minimum of education in manners and in social standards of behaviour, and any material disadvantage that might result from a failure to observe this minimum is regarded as due to one’s own neglect. It is one’s own fault. Similarly the meaning of the conventional phrases of polite society is clear enough to ordinary sensible people, and it is a personal deficiency of intelligence or experience that may cause them to deceive a hearer in a particular case. If I walk across a busy street with my eyes shut, I am asking for trouble, and nobody will sympathise with me if I am injured. Similarly nobody can justly nurse a grievance if he has been deceived by the formulae of polite usage: “Not at home,” “So glad to have met you,” etc. It should be remembered however that maids and others have no carte blanche to weave, in confirmation of such phrases, fanciful tales, that might deceive even the normal person, for then the evil of the resulting error is no longer attributable to the folly of the hearer, but to the malice of the one who deceives him.

We are now perhaps ina position to evaluate our notion of a lie more completely. We have seen that the “tall yarn,” which nobody in his senses would believe, isn’t a lie, nor are the conventional phrases which the current custom of society has sanctioned. One may therefore describe a lie as a statement against one’s belief which, in the circumstances, would deceive a normally prudent listener, a person with average common sense. The meaning of what is said in conversation depends in no small degree on what one might call “atmosphere,” the circumstances of time, place, manner, etc., that tend to restrict the sense of the expressions, so that phrases repeated without this atmosphere can seem to have a much different meaning. I could do a lot of harm by reporting the actual words of a speaker, e.g., if I conceal the context, or atmosphere, which modified their literal meaning in the first instance. If my partner in a game of cards has played badly and I so far forgot myself as to term him a fool, with several adjectives thrown in to reinforce the noun, no reasonable person can fail to see that my words refer merely to his want of skill at cards. If he, or any tale-bearing busybody, interprets it in a broader way, to let it be thought that I considered him a fool in his business or domestic capacity, I am being misquoted. It is part of prudence to take account of circumstances as they affect our acts, and it must play a part also in enabling us to interpret the statements of others correctly.

Hence it is that the believer of some utterly absurd story has only his own folly, his own imprudence, to blame. And the same is true of one who accepts a conventional phrase at its face value, rather than according to social usage. When, therefore, others imprudently and impertinently and without any right ask an embarrassingly direct question. I am justified in using a form of words that serves to put them off the scent, the reason being that their deception is attributable to their own imprudence, perhaps even to their malice, in asking the question. A prudent man would, in the circumstances, realise that my reply could hardly be expected to reveal what I have in my mind. Thus, for example, a priest would deny any knowledge of the matters he has heard in the confessional and reasonable people would readily appreciate his denial at its true value. Doctors, lawyers, etc., must be similarly protected against noseyparkers and busybodies, and may, in ordinary circumstances, justifiably deny the possession of knowledge which their profession obliges them to keep secret. They do not defend themselves by a lie in the strict sense, for no reasonable person could be deceived by their denial. A criminal before the court may plead “not guilty,” and no sensible person sees in the phrase any more than that the criminal thinks he has some chance of an acquittal for lack of evidence, and, wants to avail of it. His “not guilty” is understood to mean: “Let’s see what the opposition really knows. Let them proveme guilty if they can.” The common good does not ordinarily demand that people should be bound to reveal their secret crimes in court. And certainly the virtue of truth does not compel us to lay bare our minds to every impertinent, prying, ill-mannered newsmonger. We may protect the secrets of our home by physical force against the unjust aggressor, the thief or the robber, who invades that sanctuary; in the same way we may defend the secrets of the heart and mind against unwarranted intruders by moral force, which is never antagonistic to what is good-to justice and prudence and the other virtues-but which will serve us against the dark powers of hate and malice.

“Are you in love with Tom Jones? Aren’t you engaged to him?” asks the prying gossip. If poor little Nelly Kelly hesitates, she is lost, and in an hour’s time the entire village will hum with the news of her little romance. To answer: “It is none of your business,” will not extricate her from the clutches of the fiend, so she is quite justified in saying that Tom Jones “leaves her cold,” that he is the “last man she thought of marrying”; thereby showing her intelligence and love of truth, since Thomas is undoubtedly the “last” man, for whose happiness she considered the purchase of a veil and orange blossoms.

The liar has, as a rule, some intention and hope of deceiving: otherwise he has no reason for withholding the truth. Deceitfulness does not, however, have to be very consciously or explicitly intended. It can be pragmatic, implicit in the use of words which, we know, would, in the circumstances, lead an average prudent person into error.

The intention of an agent cannot really dissociate the direct result of his act from the act itself. It is no justification for the deliberate use of insulting words and behaviour to say that no slight was intended. In the same way, the intention alone cannot purge the lie of its malice: in other words, the deliberate lie necessarily implies the acceptance of its natural consequence, viz., the deception of others.

It is not necessary, of course, that the lie should result in actual deception. Many a liar has to regret the failure of his efforts to deceive. But even should his perspicacity or caution preserve the liar’s victim from being misled, it doesn’t exculpate the one who tried the deception. I am guilty of murder, if I wilfully inflict on another the violence I expect to prove fatal, although, in actual fact, his abnormal physique, or very special medical care may save him from death. Still more truly may I be guilty of lying, even should my victims escape the snares I have laid for them. (1)

DIFFERENT KIND OF LIES

Theologians, as a rule, distinguish three kinds of lies in ascending order of wrongfulness: lies for amusement or fun, usually called jocose lies; lies for profit or convenience-officious lies; and lastly harmful, injurious, destructive lies, technically known as malicious lies.

The jocose lie, it must be remembered, is not the same as some utterly absurd tale that nobody will believe. This, as we have seen, is not a lie at all. The difference between the two is in the fact that even prudent people might be deceived by the real jocose lie, and that the liar usually tells it with a view to deriving amusement from their (1) Because, according to St. Thomas, part of the malice of lying consists in the abuse of the faculty of speech. (II II; q.CX, a. III, ad 6). deception. The carefully-planned deceptions inflicted on Fool’s Day belong to this class, and to it also belong the multitude of untruths told from boastfulness, petty pride and so on. The exaggerations to which fishermen and golfers are almost proverbially prone are of this type. Elderly people like to try to curb the self-opinionatedness of the young by telling the deeds of their own early years. How easily they fall into the fisherman’s vice of exaggeration is, alas, but too obvious. I might add that those who fall unconsciously into this habit are even the more lovable for being so human.

To the category of jocose lies belong also the additions that many younger storytellers make to their tales. “To add a species of verisimilitude to an otherwise bald and uninteresting narrative,” in other words, to make it more likely to deceive others, they give the tales they have heard “a local habitation and a name”; they appropriate the adventures, real or fictional, of others, and relate them as having happened to themselves personally, with all appropriate local colour well splashed on. Their stories as mere flights of imagination, or as real occurrences, are not lies, but are falsified, and tend to deceive, because of the additions made to them. Their malice may not be very great, indeed, because they harm nobody but their authors, but it is nonetheless very real. A private act of hatred of God is damnable, even though it does no material injury, and, similarly, even the jocose lie may not be excused on the utilitarian and hedonistic excuse that “it hurts nobody; and it is good a bit of fun.”

The second class of lies embraces those told for the benefit of the speaker or somebody else. To it belong the untruths by which one escapes from an awkward position, forestalls future embarrassment, or tries to obtain a material advantage, some honour, a reputation, anything attractive. Again we must point out the difference between these lies and the lawful denial by which one may defend oneself against inconsiderate and prying troublemakers. The real lie could deceive careful people; the lawful denial could not do so. The real lie is told to those who have some right to the truth; the lawful denial is a defence of one’s right to secrecy against those who have no just claim to the truth.

To cover up my laziness I may explain my unpunctuality at the office by saying my cycle got punctured and I had to have it repaired. This is the officious lie in its simplest form. Sometimes it has a trifling admixture of truth in it, that does not, however, change its essentially deceitful character. When Nelly Kelly’s love for Tom Jones is on the wane, she will come late for her appointments with him, and excuse herself somewhat after this fashion:

“I just missed one bus, and then had to wait such a dreadfully long time for another. I am terribly sorry you had to wait so long, but, really, it wasn’t my fault.” Actually she missed the earlier “bus through her laziness and carelessness, nor did she just miss it, nor was she waiting more than a few minutes for the next car, nor is she really so terribly sorry, and she knows well how truly her unpunctuality is her own fault. Tom has some right to the truth, and she just as certainly has no right to cheat him so.

Little James has broken a neighbour’s window, and to avoid the moral anguish of a scolding, or the more physical pain of corporal punishment, he arranges an alibi with a school chum. Later, when questioned, he denies all knowledge of the occurrence, and his pal confirms his story, so that the “affair of the broken window” becomes one of history’s unsolved crimes. James and his friend rejoice in their triumph, but their success is the surface only. Character has suffered. They have found out that “crime doespay” quite often a very prompt and appreciable dividend, and their childish deceit may be father to much more elaborate frauds in adult life. Success of this sort in a few more difficulties involves this fact, that the parents are deceived about the child’s character, and cannot take measures to improve it. A jocose lie may not “do much harm”; a lie of convenience almost certainly involves some damage. James makes it impossible for his parents or teachers to educate him properly forthe business of life. Nelly Kelly’s lie causes Tom to waste his time, money and emotion on a very worthless object. So it is that, in one sense, officious lies can be more malicious than is ordinarily thought; but let us see what the real malicious lie is.

In the case of the officious lie, the injury to another results as it were quite indirectly. By the malicious lie, on the contrary, harm to another is deliberately sought either for itself or as a necessary means to the author’s profit. In many cases, however, it will not be easy to decide in which of the two categories a particular untruth should be placed. I have a grudge against somebody, and falsely accuse him of some crime. No direct advantage accrues to me from my unjust and cruel act. I am guilty of a typical malicious lie. In very many cases, however, the malicious lie will injure the neighbour while at the same time benefitting the liar. The unscrupulous quack will advertise some medicine he knows to be utterly unequal to the claims he makes for it. Sufferers pay to use it, to his gain and their own loss. A candidate for some position of responsibility presents false testimonials, thus obtaining it at the expense of those better qualified, of those who appoint him, and, perhaps, of those over whom he is unfortunately placed. Money is obtained from insurance companies on false claims, or in excess of the damage done. In all these cases, however, there is some fairly obvious direct and foreseen injustice to another that distinguishes this type of lie from those others we have mentioned, and it is precisely this additional malice that renders them more sinful and immoral.

ALL REAL LIES ARE WRONG

That all real lies are immoral may be shown by reason and by the unqualified condemnation of the liar in Holy Scripture.

REASON

A first simple proof of the malice of lying may be drawn from the general obligation there is on men of treating their fellows as they wish to be treated by them in turn. All men are essentially equal. I have, therefore, no right to do to others what I should justly resent were the positions reversed, and they put in my place. Now I should feel very aggrieved were I to be made the victim of deceitful and lying impostors. Hence I am abound to act truthfully and uprightly in my dealings with my neighbours. If our friend, Nelly Kelly, were to discover that her lover, Tom, had been playing her own deceitful game with her, how furious she would be. She should remember that if one wrong doesn’t make a right, neither can two. It is because she is bound to be truthful with him that he is similarly obliged towards her; and the same argument shows why, on the larger scale, we are each of us bound to be truthful with all mankind.

It is the same argument, under another aspect, that proves the malice of lying from the fact that human society could not long survive were it impossible to trust one’s fellow-men. From my earliest years to the end of my life, I am guarded and preserved by the strength of truth, and the mutual trust men place in each other. A young man and woman come from the altar where they have vowed to each other a most complete and absolute trust. He devotes his life to her support and that of her children, because he believes that she was sincere at the altar and still continues so. The children and he eat the food she places before them, and trust her that it will nourish rather than poison them, just as she has already relied on the word of the shopkeeper from whom she purchased the food. She and the children rest and sleep peacefully at night, without anxiety or care, because they know he will protect them from harm, because they know he is a true father, and an upright man. If illness comes they trust the doctor, and when death itself comes they go through the shadows trusting the priest who speaks in the name of the Saviour, who said: “I am Truth, I am Life.”

Surely human life demands truth, and all social values postulate sincerity and veracity, a real equal right to truth between man and man. As a confirmation from actual life, only the recent dreadful war need be mentioned. When States have lost their mutual trust, when they are ruled by nothing higher than opportunism and craftiness, the illusion of security is soon dissipated: their immediate fate is to drift into the hell of war, the dreadful horror of which is too sad a proof of that other more dreadful hell, “where no order, but everlasting horror dwelleth.” (1) Let it be remembered that the State is, in the order of being, less than the individuals who comprise it, and think then what would be the well-nigh unspeakable condition of things in a world where men were no longer bound to truth and justice in their mutual intercourse. The savagery of the jungle could not be compared to it, or the violence of wild beasts has no intellect directing it. Humanity without the moral virtues of truth and justice would be far worse than a society of beasts. So it would even be an understatement to call it a society of beastly men.

The primary, or most fundamental argument, however, by which St. Thomas believed the malice of lying could be absolutely proved, is not based on the rights of others to the truth, nor on the social evils that would result from the universality of untruthfulness, but on the fact that the lie is in its essence by its very nature, an abuse of the faculty of speech. As the essential malice of birth-prevention derives from its being a direct frustration of the generative faculties, or as one of the serious features of suicide arises from its direct frustration of the God-given gift of life, so too, because every lie violates the fundamental purpose of the gift of speech, it is evil in its essence, and, being so, can never lawfully be used even as a means, since “the end does not justify the means” if these are bad in themselves.

Speech is the most striking factor by which man is distinguished from the brute creation. Without this faculty each (1) Job x, 22. of us would be a lonely prisoner in a world of his own; utterly isolated from his fellows in the very thing that raises him above flesh and blood. Man’s power of communicating his thoughts and inner aspirations to other men is so spiritual and other-worldly indeed, that many great philosophers have considered that it must be directly divine in its origin: that man, if left to himself, could not have formed a language, or developed any means of communicating his inmost mind to others. But whether or not that be so, it is quite certain that speech is directly intended by Nature, and, therefore, by God, the Author of Nature, to enable us to manifest our thoughts and desires to others, to show forth our spirit and soul, our real humanity, to illuminate the dark chaos of matter by which one human mind is separated from another. Without speech our existence would indeed be dreary, unbearably lonely; we should live as hermits in an endless, Arctic night, seeing no higher life around us than that of the animal kingdom, with no ray of light or warmth shining from the souls and hearts of others above the horizon of the senses. Never could we share our joys with another; never could we find the solace of sympathy in our trials; never could words of love, rising like sparks from a hidden furnace, reveal the intensity of the hidden flame, or help to kindle that living fire in the heart of another.

Now the lie is the frustration of speech. It makes of speech a distorting mirror, one that reflects falsely. When the images in such a mirror can be compared with the originals, they are seen to be gross, horrible, repellent, devoid of real grace and beauty. The natural purpose of a mirror is to reflect things as they are, and if we know one to be “false,” to be “untrue,” we take care to avoid being led astray by it. We put it aside, to be used perhaps as an amusement when without being deceived by it, we watch its ludicrous and unreal exaggerations. So with speech. Its raison d’etre, its essential purpose, is to reflect the mind as it is for other men to see. It is of service in the serious business of life only while it continues to mirror mind faithfully. In our idle moments now and again, we may find diversion and fun in ridiculous exaggerations and impossible stories, but we take pleasure in these because we are not deceived by them and because we are quite aware that the speaker does not mean us to be led into error by them. The lie is different: it is, of its nature, something deliberately unnatural, and is, therefore, essentially wrong and sinful.

Seeing then that the lie is intrinsically evil, a thwarting of the natural purpose of speech, a canker in the heart of society, a violation of the rights of others, we need not wonder that Holy Scripture should forbid lying in unmistakable fashion.

In olden times deceitfulness was regarded as a characteristic of the impious: the Psalmist prays God to “scatter His enemies, and bring them down . . . for the sin of their mouth, and the word of their lips . . . and for their cursing and lying they shall be talked of when they are consumed. . . . . . by thy wrath.” (1) “The Lord hateth. . . . .a lyingtongue.” (2) “Lying lips are an abomination to the Lord: but they that deal faithfully please him.” (3)He “will destroy all that speak a lie.”(4) “A false witness shall not be unpunished; that he that speaketh lies shall perish.” (5) We are told that “the mouth that belieth killeth the soul.” (6)

Christ is “full of grace and truth.” His Spirit is the Spirit of Truth, Who teaches all truth. Hence lying and duplicity were utterly incompatible with the character of our Holy Redeemer. Never could He compromise in any degree with deceit: on the contrary He castigated it in all its forms with a terrifying intensity. As the devil is the personified hatred of the Supreme Truth, so does Christ say: “He was a murderer from the beginning: and he stood not in the truth, because truth is not, in him. When he speaketh a lie, he speaketh of his own; for he is a liar and the father thereof.” (7) The hypocritical, lying Pharisees were Satan’s children: “You are of your father, the devil, and the desires of your father you will do.” How prophetic! for as the liar hates and destroys the truth, these deceitful men hated Jesus, and ultimately murdered the incarnate, true Word of God.

His keen theological instinct enabled St. Paul to perceive the fundamental value of the love of truth, and he warns the early Christians to be sincere and to avoid all duplicity. “Wherefore, putting away lying, speak ye the truth, every man with his neighbour . . . Give not place to the devil.” (8)”Lie not one to one another. . . . Stand having your loins girt about with truth.” (9)”that you may be blameless and sincere children of God . . . in the midst of a crooked and perverse generation: among whom you shine as lights in the world.” (10) And, like St. Paul, his brother Apostle, St. James, perceived that the love of truth is an absolute condition of real religion: “Be ye doers of the word and not hearers only, deceiving your own selves . . . and if any man think himself to be religious, not bridling his own tongue (1) Ps. lviii, 13 (2) Prov. vi. 17; (3) 1b. vii, 22; (4) Ps. v. 7; (5) Prov. xix, 9; (6) Wis. I, 2; (7) Jo. viii, 44. (8) Eph. iv. 25; (9) Col. iii, 9; (10) Philipp. ii, 15; but deceiving his own heart, this man’s religion is vain.” ( 1) “Glory not, and be not liars against the truth.” (2) Heaven itself, intimate friendship with the Lamb of God, is the reward of the truthful according to the vision of St. John. In the mouth of those who “follow the Lamb whithersoever He goeth. . . . .there was found no lie,”(3) while Hell, on the contrary, is peopled with liars: “Without are dogs and sorcerers and unchaste and murderers and servers of idols and every one that loveth and maketh a lie.” (4) Alas! Dear St. John! If you could return to the world today, how your heart would be grieved and tortured by its disregard of truth, natural and supernatural. You would see falsifications and deceits accepted in private and public life: men priding themselves on their business acumen, which is so often nothing more than a “useful” ability to lie plausibly and consistently, leaders dignifying and justifying the most gross distortions of truth under the name of Propaganda: rulers, who, like Pilate, (5) do not want the truth. And you, noble St. Paul, who accepted imprisonment and punishment, stoning and shipwreck, even death itself, rather than be false to your high principles, you would find again on earth those “who change the truth of God into a lie, who like not to have God in their knowledge . . . full of deceit. . . . inventors of evil things . . . without affection, without fidelity, without mercy.” (6) Pray for mankind that our hearts may be changed before the awful, revealing judgment of God comes upon us, according to your own warning: “For the wrath of God is revealed from Heaven against all ungodliness and injustice of those men that detain the truth of God in injustice.” (7)

LIES AND LIARS

Catholic moral theology is marvellously broad-minded: it takes every factor of an act into account. In this matter of lying, for instance, it shows that if there were only the mere lie to be considered it would be never more than a venial sin-something loathsome and wrong, of course, but still far short of mortal sin. Speech is for the communication of our thoughts to others, but no man has absolutely all truth locked up in himself, hence the harm done by the lie is not a complete frustration of Nature: the truth can be learned in other ways than by speech, and from more people than one. Hence, although the lie is undoubtedly an interference with Nature, it is not as final and absolute as is suicide, for example; and if there were no other factor to be taken into account, the lie would never be a cause of damnation. It is rare, however, that the lie stands all alone. Even in its simplest forms, in those told for amusement or for convenience, there is found, as a rule, some admixture of pride, envy, disobedience, sensuality, etc., that adds to the evil-doing. The motive be (hind the lie, and the circumstances in which it is told will affect its malice. To deny one’s faith would be seriously sinful, even were the lie in itself only a lie of convenience; while to perjure oneself by lying under oath, by calling God to aid one in deceiving His creatures, would dishonour Him gravely and make the act a mortal sin.

Many lies become serious because grave injury to an innocent party is intended, or is foreseen to follow from them. The malicious gossip who relates his foul suspicions as certain truth, and foresees that his victim’s reputation will be grievously injured thereby; the vindictive person, whose passion for revenge moves him to disrupt the good relations between man and wife, between employer and employee, etc., by spiteful, lying tales; the avaricious individual, who does not hesitate to conceal the grave defects in his wares or in his abilities under such a veil of falsehood as deceives even the cautious and prudent purchaser or employer-all these sin grievously, because in addition to the violation of truth, a grave injustice is also committed.

Who could compute the number of lies told through lust? How many innocent and happy lives have been wrecked by the lustful lies of unscrupulous blackguards? A trusting young girl is treated to a pleasing tonic of well-timed flattery, that seems to come from the purest affection. Her interest is carefully nursed until it has grown into confiding love. Then, when it is too late, after the alluring prospect of a good marriage had blinded her to the more immediate dangers of unmarried love making, she realises her mistake, being left to mend her broken heart amid the scorn and contempt of a pitiless world. Not all lies of lust have such grim results. Not all men, fortunately, are so unscrupulous. Lovers must be allowed the extravagance in expression that real emotion always demands-their prudence enables them to interpret much of it for what it really is-but “truth is calm” and the simple praise and unstudied outpourings of pure love, are far different from the deceitful, calculating compliments of some crafty Don Juan, on the one hand, or from the meaningless absurdities of intemperate and uncontrolled passion on the other.

(1) Jas. i, 22–26 ; (2) Ib. iii, 14; (3) Apoc. xiv, 5; (4) Ib. xxii, (5) Jo. xviii, 38; (6) Rom. i, 25–31. (7) Ib i, 18.

LAWFUL RETICENCE

While we are obliged to practise sincerity, and to avoid deceit, it does not follow by any means that we must tell all the truth all the time to all enquirers. We must keep legitimate secrets from those who have no right to know them, and we must often, for the sake of harmony and charity, resist the urge to criticize truthfully those who don’t want to hear the truth about themselves. He who is utterly sincere even with himself will welcome truth wherever it is found and from whatever source it comes, but very, very few of us are cast in such a heroic mould; we like to fool ourselves, at least in little things, and to keep up these petty deceptions protects our tinsel paradise against the stern, pitiless forces of truth. Because charity, the greatest virtue, “is patient, is kind . . . beareth all things hopeth all things, endureth all things,” (1) the real Christian is considerate for this human weakness; he is careful not to wound others unnecessarily with ill-timed truth. He is not a troublemaker, and knows how to preserve a prudent silence when, without the sacrifice of any principle, he sees that plain speaking would be either unwelcome or useless.

ENVOI

Here then is the little booklet that I have so long wished to write. It is far from saying all that I should want said in praise of truth: it doesn’t say even all I should like said against lying. I have not appealed to the respect in which all right-minded people hold the man of integrity, the man who can be believed; nor to the universal contempt that is felt for the treacherous and cowardly liar. I might have pointed out the implications of that greatest insult: “You are a liar!” Space did not permit me to do so, and I could only try to include as much as possible of the fundamentals, to show the real depth and essential evil of the lie. If I have succeeded in achieving this, my readers will have no difficulty in seeing that “no motive, however good, can excuse a lie.” If the motive justifies the means, there is an end of all real morality. If the “great personal inconvenience” of a schoolboy justifies his “small lie,” a “greater inconvenience” of the grown-up justifies a “big lie,” and the “superlative inconvenience” of the State, of reformers, enemies, helpless invalids and the incurably insane would make lawful the infamous lies of propaganda, the murder of the innocent, and a thousand other horrible crimes by which might tries to preserve a temporary supremacy over right. The little Catechism is correct in this doctrine on lying as in its other teachings, because it is firmly established on the first Truth of God, and seeks only to teach men the way to their First Beginning and Last End. If we love the truth, and are ready to follow it wheresoever it leads, if we “harden not our hearts” when it speaks, and if we echo it in our human way, by word and work, we need not fear the “father of lies.” “Doing the truth in charity,” (2) in the might of that abiding Charity that is the Spirit of God indwelling within us, we shall be in this life the “light of the world,” (3) and in the world to come we shall “shine in the Kingdom of our Father,” (4) as lamps filled with “the oil of gladness,” (5) that is “the only True God.” (6)

“Open ye the gates: and let the nation that keepeth the truth enter in.” (7)

(1) 1 Cor. XIII, 4–7.(2) Eph. iv. ]5; (3) Matt. v. 14; (4) Ib. xiii, 43; (5) Ps. xliv; (6) Jo. xvii, 3; (7) Is. xxvi, 2.

Nihil Obstat:

RECCAREDUS FLEMING, Censor Theol. Deput.

Imprimatur:

@IOANNES CAROLUS, Archiep. Dublinen,

Hiberniae Primas.

Dublini, die 6 Nov., anno 1942.

********

The Truth of Scripture

BY REV. C. LATTEY, S.J

INDEX

Introductory. -The following pamphlet is not concerned with the truth of Scripture merely in the same way that one, might test the trustworthiness of any other books. In the case of non-biblical works, one would usually try to discover whatever other evidence there was bearing upon the subject in hand, and after considering it carefully examine the particular book in question, with a view to discovering how far it squared with all that other evidence now available. The result might be to convince the student that the work was thoroughly reliable, or else that it was thoroughly unreliable, or again that its historical value lay somewhere between these extremes, perhaps nearer the one, perhaps nearer the other. But the conclusion would always be made a posteriori-that is to say, it would be the direct result of an investigation made into all or most of the statements involved, and would depend upon the investigator having been able to satisfy himself that all or most or some definite proportion of them were false or true. Such is (speaking roughly) the purely human and historical method of estimating the truth of any human writing.

Now, when it comes to assuring ourselves of the full extent of the truth of Holy Scripture, we rest our conclusion upon totally different grounds. We believe with the certainty of faith that it can contain no formal error. This is an a priori conviction; we might have it before we ever read a word of Scripture, and very many have it who have never studied Scripture seriously. It is based upon the fact that Almighty God, who can neither deceive nor be deceived, is the principal author of Holy Writ. This is the Catholic doctrine of inspiration, which is the foundation of what is to be said here about the truth of the Scriptures; and therefore the best introduction to this pamphlet will probably be its fellow “Inspiration,” by the same author. It must be enough to repeat here with some brief explanations the definition furnished on p. 2 of that pamphlet, which in this way it will not be absolutely essential, but merely helpful to read. The same is true in a lesser degree of the pamphlets on Revelation and Prophecy.

2. Inspiration.-The definition therefore runs as follows:

“Biblical inspiration is a charismatic enlightening of the intellect and motion of the will and divine assistance bestowed upon the sacred writer, to the end that he may write all those things and only those things which God wishes to be written in His name and to be delivered as such to the Church.”

“Charismatic.” This convenient word is taken from the so-called charismata (or “gifts”) of I Cor. xii, which bear some likeness to inspiration, though inspiration itself is not discussed there. Two points should particularly be noticed. (I) The word implies that inspiration is not given for the benefit of the individual. Inspired, at all events primarily, but for the sake of the Church; the Old Testament was written for the sake of the Jews as well. (2) It also implies that inspiration is a transient action, in this resembling actual graces: it does not last beyond the time during which God is having written what He wishes written it is liable to interruption, since .a work would not usually be completed in one sitting. Later copies or translations of the inspired work are not themselves inspired in the strict sense of the term.

“Divine assistance.” This, as distinguished from the motion of intellect and will, includes all the outward circumstances needed for the writing of the work. Inspiration is not merely a spiritual action upon the soul; it is not complete until the work intended by God be actually written, for which a supply of writing materials and many other outward circumstances are necessary.

“Delivered as such to the Church.” This means in the main that biblical inspiration is revealed by God to the Church, and that at the same time He gives to the Church the right and duty of teaching the fact of that inspiration. This fact of inspiration is part of the deposit of faith, which was closed with the end of the apostolic age. Almighty God may have inspired other books, but, if so, He has not entrusted the Church with the right and duty of proclaiming this fact, nor can she put forth any infallible teaching to that effect. If anyone think that such a book as the Imitation of Christ must have been inspired, he is free to do so, and his opinion is not contrary to the Catholic faith, but nobody else is bound to follow his opinion, which would rest purely upon such arguments as he could bring up in his favour. The Church would not be very likely to interfere, unless an individual contended for the inspiration of a book quite unworthy in some way or other of Almighty God; so that there would be cause to prevent disrespect to the Divine Majesty.

For clearness also, it may be repealed that antecedent revelation is not necessary for inspiration; Almighty God can guide the intellect and will of the sacred writer without a revelation properly so called-indeed the writer may not even be conscious that he is being inspired. But the inspired book, when completed, may truly be said to contain consequent revelation-that is to say, revelation that is the essential consequence of inspiration, because the statements come to us in the name and with the authority of God Himself.

It may be well also to remind the reader that this biblical inspiration is not at all the same thing as prophetic inspiration, which latter (as may be seen in the pamphlet on Prophecy) does not necessarily involve any writing at all, but does involve a revelation, together with a mission from God to communicate that revelation to some other person or persons, usually (in the Old Testament) to the Chosen People.

3. Inerrancy.-So far there has been mention only of the truth of Scripture, but we must now turn our attention to the more technical” term “inerrancy,” which is far too convenient to be left out from these explanations. By inerrancy is meant the absence of formal error,a definition which now calls for comment. In the first place we notice “that it is a negative term, like infallibility, to which we shall shortly be comparing it; it is the absence of something. This way of treating the subject is far simpler and clearer, and indeed is often adopted in other connections also, when the object is to vindicate the truthfulness of persons or statements. What finally destroys the claim to truth is the proof of error. And again, in a certain sense, error is something more tangible than truth. To illustrate this, we may take the case of many a poem or novel; we might be puzzled to say exactly where was the truth in it, but if somebody said that the author was a liar, we should be prepared at once and with certainty to repudiate the charge. And so it is with Holy Writ. “Who hath understood the mind of the Lord?” So St Paul cries twice over (Rom. xi. 34; I Cor. ii. 16; cf. Isa. xi. 13); and we ourselves have far better reason than he for eschewing such presumption. We cannot always give the exact sense and force of a passage of Holy Scripture, and at the same time prove it to be true; but if someone claims to prove positively that there is a real mistake in Holy Scripture, we generally have no great difficulty in finding a flaw in his argument. And even if we did have great difficulty in so doing, we should still believe that the flaw was there.

It must be borne, in mind, however, that it is God’s meaning that is in question, not that of the human writer “who is God’s “instrument; he too cannot always “understand the mind of the Lord,” and” indeed, like the rest of us mortal’s, may be said never to understand it fully. All “that we can hope for is that it may be understood better and better as time goes on. In particular, the New Testament has helped greatly to a deeper understanding of the Old, according to the old saying, Novum in Vetere latet: Vetus in Novo patet (the New Testament lies hidden in the Old: the Old lies revealed in the New).

Two illustrations may be offered of the above principle. The Epistle to the Hebrews opens with the truth that of old God spoke through the prophets (translating quite literally) “in manyportions and in many ways.” As an example of one of these “many ways” we may take the prophecy by Caiaphas in John XI. 50. He speaks with all the rudeness said by the Jewish historian Josephus (Jewish War, bk. ii, chap. 8, no. 14) to be characteristic of the Sadducees, to which party the high-priestly families largely belonged (cf.Acts iv. I, v. i7). “Ye know nothing at all,” he says, which is equivalent to saying, “You are talking nonsense”: and he goes on to say, “neither do you consider that it is expedient for you that one man should die for the people, and the whole nation not perish.” If we had no further guidance from the Evangelist in the matter, we should be inclined to say simply that he had the wrong idea that Our Lord would stir up the Jews to rebellion, and therefore had better be put to death Himself beforehand, because otherwise the Romans would cause the whole nation to perish. But we know from St John’s comment that Caiaphas was unwittingly” delivering a message from God, inasmuch as it was in the divine plan that Christ should offer Himself in sacrifice for the redemption of the Jews (and, as St John adds, of “the scattered children of God” also). It was through Christ’s atoning death that all the Jews who were to go to Heaven should be saved, whether in the time of the” Old or “New Testament.

The above is an example taken from prophetic, not biblical, inspiration; we may turn to the latter for an example of God speaking “in many portions”-that is to say, revealing often only a part of the truth, for which the Jews were more ready. In the Book of Malachy it is prophesied that the Old Testament sacrifices are to be rejected by God,

“For from the rising of the sun even unto the setting thereof

My name shall be great among the Gentiles,

And in every place

There shall be sacrifice, there shall be offering

Unto my name, even a pure oblation” (i. II).

The objection has been raised that the prophet did not foresee the sacrifice of the Mass. That may well be true, though it cannot be proved; but even if it be true, it is no less true that the above lines contain a true prophecy, which is found to be fulfilled only in the Mass. Almighty God, for His own good reasons, revealed only a part of the truth; but this should have been enough to prevent Protestants from saying that the Mass is contrary to Holy Scripture. Indeed, they cannot give a satisfactory explanation of the lines.

4. Formal Error.-At the beginning of the previous section inerrancy was defined as “the absence of formal error,” a definition which now demands a fuller explanation. By formal error is meant a mistake or untruth in the objective meaning of the words, an expression which again calls for some explanation. The truth of Holy Scripture is so much attacked nowadays that it is necessary to be very careful and precise in its defence. By the “objective” meaning we intend to exclude any subjective ideas of their own that some rationalists may try to read into the text, although they are not really there. We may be faced, for example, with an airy remark that the writer of the Book of Genesis obviously had quite wrong ideas about scientific matters. Well, possibly he had; but that does not convict him of formal error. Our only inference would be that, if his ideas were wrong, the Holy Ghost kept him from committing himself to them when he was writing the Book of Genesis. And many-passages of Scripture are quoted as being wrong which can be justified, once we examine them with care and reverence; within the space of this pamphlet, it is only possible to speak in rather general terms and lay down some important principles.

The “objective” meaning, then, is the meaning truly contained in the words. This meaning will usually, of course, be fairly obvious, but sometimes careful reading will be needed to discover it; sometimes, indeed, but only rarely, prolonged study and accurate scholarship. There are cases, in fact, where it has not proved possible to attain to absolute certainty, at all events up to the present time.

The Biblical Commission, it may be noticed, has evidently not thought the time ripe as yet for determining the method of interpretation to be applied to some books of Scripture. In 1905 it dealt with two methods of meeting difficulties, chiefly in the historical books; in neither case did it prohibit them, but merely required safeguards that the methods were justified by the objective meaning of the words. The first proposal was to treat some passages as “implicit quotations”: that is to say, the sacred writer would be supposed merely to be quoting documentary sources, without committing himself to them, so that it would not matter if there were error in such passages. “He would merely be reporting the errors of others. The Biblical Commission in its answer required (I) that there should be solid proof that the writer really was making a quotation: and (2) that he was not approving the words or making them his own, so as to be committing himself to them. If, that is to say, the objective meaning of the biblical words clearly implies the objective “truth of what is supposed to be quoted, then there must be no formal error in the quotation.

The other answer dealt with a question of literary form. In the” case of books usually looked upon as historical, may it beaccepted as a principle of correct interpretation”, that sometimes either in whole or part they are narrating, not history properly so called and objectively true, but what bears the appearance only of history, in order to signify something other than the strictly literal or historical meaning of the words? The answer is negative, except in the case, not easily or rashly to be admitted, where it is proved by solid arguments that the sacred writer wished to present, not true history properly so called, but under the appearance and form of history a parable or allegory or some meaning different from the strictly literal or historical meaning of the words: always supposing that such an exception and interpretation is not against the mind of the Church, and with proper submission to her judgment. An obvious parallel from modern English literature would be the historical novel, a mixture of fact and fiction of which there are many examples, such as some of the works of the late Mgr. Robert Hugh Benson.

5. The Scope of Inerrancy.-It will be understood from what has gone before that the scope of inerrancy is universal: wherever a statement is made in Holy Scripture, there the objective sense of the words is true. Towards the end of last century a few Catholic writers wished to limit unduly the scope of inerrancy, the most distinguished among them being Cardinal Newman. It may be enough here to quote in this regard what has already been written in the pamphlet on Inspiration (p. 8):

In the Nineteenth Century for February, 1884, he wrote an article, “On the Inspiration of Scripture” (pp. 185–99), wherein he suggested that obiter dicta, casual and parenthetic remarks need not be inspired, and need not be true; he even seems to suggest that truth, necessary and infallible, may be considered to be limited to matters bearing on faith or morals. He wrote, however, “unreservedly submitting what I have written to the judgment of the Holy See,” and the adverse judgment of the Holy See on the main issue is clearly expressed in the Providentissimus Deus.

To the Providentissimus Deus, the great encyclical of Pope Leo XIII upon biblical studies, we shall have occasion to return. It may be said at once, however, that” it insists strongly upon the fundamental principle of divine authorship: the essential question to ask is, who has written the Bible, not why He has written it. The mere fact that a statement does not directly touch upon faith or morals is no reason for doubting its truth, when it comes to us as a statement from Almighty God, who can neither deceive nor be deceived. Nor is it possible, (if one may reverently write in this way) that He should have produced some obiter dicta without adverting to the fact that they were untrue.

It may be asked, and has been asked, what does it matter, if some sentences that bear no relation to faith or morals should prove untrue? Why bother about these unessential and irrelevant matters? To this it must be answered, that the essential and relevant fact about such sentences is that they have God for author: deny that, and then they are Scripture no more, and we have nothing left us but purely human documents, and incidentally in that case the Church could only be considered a purely human society, herself without divine authority or truth, because she would be wrong in respect of a fundamental article of faith.

In the second place, we must say once again, as in § 3, “who hath understood the mind of the Lord?” We must not be in such a hurry to measure God’s purposes by our own short-sighted guesswork; if it may be said so reverently, we might be more ready to give Him the benefit of the doubt. Though, on the other hand, we must beware of calling “mystery” too often and too easily; often we can understand something of the divine plan if we meditate upon it well. What seem irrelevant details may be found, for example, to give us a more vivid picture of the background of the prophetic preaching; and the history of the Chosen People is full of lessons for us if we will but attend to them. What doesSt Paul say? “Whatsoever things were written aforetime [that is, in the Old Testament] were written for our instruction, that through patience and through the comfort of the scriptures we may have hope” (Rom. xv. 4).

6. Words Reported.-In the discussion of formal error in § 4, mention has been made of an answer of the Biblical Commission dealing with the suggestion that some passages might be treated as “implicit quotations,” a difficulty arising from such a passage might be met by assuming that the writer was merely reporting the words (right or wrong) of others. Such a suggestion was based on what is certainly the right way to treat explicit quotations, recognized for such beyond all doubt. The principle here involved needs some further explanation, which will be best understood if it takes the form of concrete examples.

Let us take an extreme case, which will make the matter all the clearer. St John reports in his Gospel that many of the Jews said of Our Lord, “He hath a devil, and is mad” (John x. 20). Now, it is clear that the mere fact that this sentence occurs in Scripture does not make it true; what is true is that many of the Jews uttered the sentence. And so we come to an important distinction: where the words of some person or persons are reported in Scripture, inerrancy is to be found, not necessarily in the words reported, which may be true or false, but in the accuracy of the report. In such a case we are sure of the truth of the narrative (veritas narrationis), but not of the words narrated to have been spoken (veritas narrati). This is obvious in the instance just given, but is not always so readily realized where the words themselves are not palpably false. Thus, in the note upon Acts vii. 16 in the Westminster Version of the Sacred Scriptures it is said that “St Stephen seems to confuse the cave of Machpelah, bought by Abraham from Ephron the Hittite (Gen. 1. I3) with the piece of ground at Shechem bought by Jacob from the sons of Hamor (Jos. xxiv. 32)” A reference is given to Acts vii. 2–4, where a somewhat similar difficulty arises, and is discussed at some length. A true report is given of St Stephen’s words, but there is no sufficient reason to suppose that he was infallible, and his memory appears to have been at fault.

It is the Catholic view that the Apostles (differing in this from St Stephen) enjoyed a personal infallibility in the teaching of faith and morals, not necessarily depending at all times upon an immediate revelation, any more than papal infallibility is in need of such a revelation, though Almighty God may at times use this means to guarantee it if He choose.

Our Lord’s infallibility, on the other hand, was universal, because, as the Nicene Creed says, He was “true God of true God.” The words which He is reported in the Gospels to have spoken are therefore necessarily true, not in virtue of biblical inspiration and inerrancy, which only guarantee a true report of them, but in virtue of His Godhead. The point is worth noting in regard of such a book, for example, as Dr. Cadoux’s recent work, The Historic Mission of Jesus,in which he denies Our Lord’s infallibility, without any attempt to make out that the Gospels seriously misrepresent Him in the crucial doctrines. His chief objection appears to be to Our Lord’s doctrine of Hell (pp. 344- 5); although one would have thought that the divine government of the world could hardly be vindicated without some appalling punishment for the appalling crimes committed in these last years. It would be out of place to discuss such an issue here; it is much to our purpose, however, to notice that it is Our Lord that is said to have erred, not the Bible.

7. The Dogma of Inerrancy.-Now that (as may be hoped) a fairly adequate idea has been secured of the essential nature of inerrancy, it is time to make it plain that the doctrine of biblical inerrancy is an article of faith.

It has already been explained in §1 that this doctrine follows from the fact that Almighty God, who can neither deceive nor be deceived, is the principal author of Holy Writ. This is evidently true, but it is not quite the whole truth; it must be added that biblical inerrancy is an article of faith in its own right. This means to say that Almighty God has not left it to us to draw the conclusion, obvious though it is, from the fact of inspiration, but has Himself revealed the truth. Hence we do not believe in biblical inerrancy simply because we see with our human reason that it is logically involved in the belief in another article of faith; but about inerrancy, as about inspiration, we believe God directly. That is the essence of an article of faith, taken absolutely in itself, apart from any possible preliminaries or accompaniments: to believe simply upon the authority of God revealing.

The doctrine of biblical inerrancy has never been in serious doubt in the Church; there have been no controversies about it worth mentioning. From the earliest times it has been so much taken for granted, even by the” Protestants, that not much attention has been paid to it until quite recent times. It was with the advent of the so called Liberal Protestantism and of agnosticism and of “the higher criticism” that the truth of the Bible came to be called in question, and that in consequence the Catholic defence of the Bible came to receive increasing attention and to be better organised.

In this country the most important historical landmark was probably the appearance in 1890 of Lux Mundi, edited by the late (Anglican) Bishop Gore. It ran through twelve editions in little over a year, and the Encyclopedia Britannica (ed. II) truly remarks in its article upon him that “it is largely due to its influence, and to that of the school it represents, that the High Church movement developed thenceforth on Modernist rather than Tractarian lines.” Gore abandoned the inerrancy of Holy Scripture, and the next year, in his Bampton Lectures at Oxford on “The Incarnation,” the infallibility of Christ also.

A full theological proof of the inerrancy of Scripture cannot of course be attempted here. The serious student may be referred to the great work, De Inspiratione Sacrae Scripturae, by Father Christian Pesch, S.J., published by Herder in 1906, with an important supplement published in 1926, bringing the treatment up to that date.

In the first place it may be noticed that the inerrancy of the Old Testament is clearly set forth in the New. Father Pesch, in his Praelectiones Dogmaticae(vol. I, ed. 3, no. 606; Herder, 1903) has calculated that such phrases as, “It is written,” or “The Scripture saith,” occur about 150 times in the New Testament with reference to the Old, and always with the implication of inerrancy. It may be enough here to mention Our Lord’s own use of the expression in Matt. iv. 4, 7, 10. He uses even stronger words in John x. 35, where, after quoting an Old Testament, He remarks, to use the translation “in the Westminster Version, “the Scripture cannot be evaded.” St Paul has an even stronger and quite surprising remark upon the same subject, for, so far as words go, he attributes the divine foreknowledge to the passage of Scripture itself which is based upon it. “The Scripture,” he writes, “foreseeing that it was through faith that God would justify the Gentiles, foretold to Abraham that “in thee shall all the nations be blessed” (Gal. iii. 8). In the same way the divine purpose of salvation is imputed to “the Scripture” in Gal. iii. 22. This much must suffice for the New Testament.

The testimony of Catholic tradition to the doctrine could fill volumes; but at least one striking passage may be quoted here, which has behind it a manifold authority of the greatest possible weight. St Thomas Aquinas, that is to say, in his Summa Theologica (I. I, 8 ad. 2), quotes a letter from St Augustine to St Jerome (nowadays usually numbered no. 82) in which he writes: “Only to those books of Scripture which are called canonical have I learnt to pay awe and honour of such a kind, that I believe most firmly that no author of them has committed any error in writing them.”

He goes on to express his belief that his view of the matter is also St Jerome’s. Thus the greatest of the Latin doctors takes it for granted that “the greatest of doctors in the exposition of the Sacred Scriptures,” as the Church calls St Jerome upon his feast, will agree with him upon the doctrine of inerrancy; and St Thomas Aquinas, who now possesses the greatest authority of any single doctor of the Church, likewise agrees with him so fully as to quote him, as do likewise Pope Leo XIII in the Providentissimus Deus and Pope Benedict XV in the Spiritus Paraclitus, both of which encyclicals now call for mention.

In modern times the Providentissimus Deus, the great biblical encyclical of Pope Leo XIII, the Magna Carta of the study of Holy Scripture, the golden jubilee of which falls into this year (1943), has not only made fruitful provision for the advance of such study, but has asserted more strongly and clearly than ever the fundamental doctrines which underlie the whole subject.

After insisting (as we have already seen in §5) that in the matter of inerrancy the essential question is, not why the Bible was written, but who wrote it, it proceeds to lay down the principle that it is as impossible that error should be in Holy Scripture as it is impossible for God to be the author of any error.

In the dogmatic part of the Providentissimus Deus Pope Leo is defining the relevant doctrines for the whole Church, clearly intending that his teaching should be accurately followed both in principle and practice by all Catholics whatever in their treatment of Holy Scripture. The matter has not often been discussed at all fully, but to the present writer it appears that all the conditions for papal infallibility are here verified, so that this teaching must be held by all. A later encyclical issued by Pope Benedict XV in 1920, the Spiritus Paraclitus, pressed home the doctrine of biblical inerrancy and closed the way to some evasions, but, having regard to the limits of available space, it must be enough here to have made respectful mention of it.

8. The Church and the Bible.-It is indeed the doctrine of inerrancy that creates the difficulty; it is there, if one may use the homely phrase, that the shoe pinches. Consequently, it is there also that the vigilance of the Church and the Holy See has most been needed. Many would have no great difficulty in any abstract doctrine of biblical inspiration, if it were not for the very practical and concrete applications which the doctrine finds in biblical inerrancy, applications which for one reason or another they feel unable to accept.

In the first place, it must be realised that the Church has the right both to make such applications herself and to control the treatment of Holy Scripture by her children. All that belongs to Catholic faith and morals falls within her province, so that it is her right and duty, not only to teach the doctrine of inerrancy in the abstract, but to see that it is not violated in the concrete. This is quite evident where the Scriptures themselves are dealing with faith and morals; but even where they are treating with quite different topics, such as facts of history or science, it is still the duty of the Church to see that they are not interpreted in such a way as to involve formal error. In such cases the right of the Church to issue a decision upon the interpretation is indirect and negative, being based, not upon the nature of the questions themselves (seeing that they are not in themselves questions of faith or morals), but upon the inspiration and inerrancy of the passages involved. In this way the right to intervene is indirect: it is also negative, because it remains true- that it is not the function of the Church to decide questions of mere history or mere science, but only to rule out of court explanations which cannot be reconciled with biblical inerrancy. Still by way of safeguarding inerrancy, the Church may even lay down what is the true meaning of the passage, or the possible meanings, but (in matters, as has been said, which do not directly concern faith and morals) without going beyond what belongs to the interpretation of the passage. Ulterior questions of history or science do not concern her.

It must not be inferred from this that the Church is always willing and able to give an immediate and infallible answer to any difficulty that may arise; she has received no promise that justifies such an expectation. There has been a certain development in her doctrine, as may be seen, for example, in Cardinal Newman’s famous Essay on the Development of Christian Doctrine, which in a sense brought him into the Church. Doctrines have taken time to mature; the doctrine of the Immaculate Conception, to take an obvious case, could hardly be perfectly understood until that of original sin had been clearly defined. And in much smaller questions, including those of a biblical character, it is sometimes through the tentative answers of Catholic theologians and scholars that the full truth finally comes to be clearly and authoritatively, set forth. In other cases it may happen that such a satisfactory solution is not quickly or easily found, and indeed there still are and doubtless always will be biblical problems that have not yet found their definite solution. But even so, it remains the right and duty of the Church to forbid solutions which she sees to offend against Catholic faith or morals, and more particularly against biblical inerrancy.

It is not only the interpretation of the Bible, however, but the Bible itself that falls under the care of the Church as the guardian of Catholic faith and morals. It is for the Church to decide what is Scripture; and this means that it is her right and duty, not merely to determine and teach the canon of Scripture, as has been explained in § 2, but also to safeguard the text of Scripture. It is the function of textual criticism to make known the exact text of Scripture, but this must be done with proper submission to the authority of the Church, to whom it certainly belongs to prevent erroneous omissions, additions, or changes. Speaking generally, she does not carry this supervision into minute details, but only checks mistakes of some importance. To her children who belong to the Latin rite she offers the Latin Vulgate as a translation substantially faithful, and safe in faith and morals. In her Eastern rites Greek and Arabic and other languages are used in the liturgy and for other sacred purposes.

9. Catholic Apologetic.-In all that has been said so far the purpose has been to set forth the full Catholic doctrine in regard of biblical inerrancy, and in regard of any other subjects which it has been necessary or useful to bring into the discussion. It is now time to explain that there is also another way of treating Holy Scripture which is very important for the proper proof and defence of the Catholic position. This is usually said to be the apologetic way of treating it. It does not mean to say that Catholics feel any need of apologising for Holy Scripture in the ordinary sense of the word (far from it), but that this treatment of Holy Scripture is essential to Catholic apologetic. The word apologia in Greek (as in Plato’s Apologia) means a speech or writing in defence of a person or cause, and this meaning has been taken over into English (as in Cardinal Newman’s Apologia),and our word “apology” is also used in this sense. It is this meaning, too, which must be given to the term “apologetic” as used above: Catholic apologetic means the defence of the Catholic position, but “defence” taken in a wide sense, involving the proof of that position no less than answers to objections against it.

The apologetic treatment of Holy Scripture, as we shall see, must be adopted in answering certain objections; but it is chiefly necessary in proving the divine mission of Christ and of the Church. This proof is part of any course of scientific theology, but no Catholic can be said to be properly instructed who does not understand something about it. It represents the passage from reason to faith. What can be known by the light of reason, and is taught in the course of Catholic philosophy, is presupposed; it embraces such subjects as the nature of human knowledge, and the existence of the soul and of Almighty God, so far as God and the soul can be known by reason. Nowadays such truths as these need to be taught to all children at school, together with the solid grounds for holding them; it is not easy to bring them home to the young, or for that matter to their elders either, but in the present state of ignorance and indifference in the world at large. Catholics are not safe in their faith without some grounding in these fundamental truths of reason.

It is these truths which must be supposed as having been learnt, whether in a scientific course of philosophy before the ecclesiastical student comes to the scientific course of theology, or in a more popular course of instruction before a corresponding course of religious doctrine. This popular course, again, may be one given to children at school, or to Catholic adults who have the good sense and zeal to desire it (as, for example, in the Catholic Evidence Guild), or to converts who are practically learning these truths for the first time as the foundation to the more strictly theological part.

This much then presupposed, we wish to show that Christ had a divine mission from. God. We cannot take it for granted that He is God; or that the Church is infallible, because by so doing we should involve ourselves in the vicious circle of which we are so often accused: we should be presupposing in our argument the very conclusion which we are setting out to prove. What we really do is to proceed to show (so far as the time and other circumstances allow) that the Gospels are reliable historical documents; after which we proceed to use them as such. The Gospels are chiefly needed; but some other writings, both in the Bible and out of it, can usefully be included in the study if this be reasonably possible.

It may be said shortly (since we are not dealing with Catholic apologetic as such) that mainly from the Gospels, shown to be reliable documents, we prove that Our Lord claimed to have an absolute mission from God which all were bound to accept, and that He proved His claim in various ways, but especially by His miracles. Upon the strength of that claim He founded His Church, and endowed it with the threefold power of teaching, government, and ministry: it is infallible in teaching faith and morals: it is a supreme society, subject in its own sphere to no earthly ruler: it exercises a ministry of sacrifice and sacrament. A part of the Church’s infallible teaching, as we have sufficiently seen, is her doctrine of biblical inerrancy. The doctrine of biblical inerrancy thus supposes much already proved, and may not be presupposed in proving it. As has been explained above; it would involve a vicious circle to suppose that the Gospels cannot contain any formal error; such a claim could be justified only if the doctrine of biblical inerrancy had been already proved. It is not essential to prove even that the Gospels do not contain formal error. It is not essential, for example, in order to prove Christ’s resurrection, to show that there is absolutely no discrepancy in the four Gospel accounts.

Discrepancy in minor points between independent accounts does not invalidate their testimony to some important event in which they all agree.

In the same way, for apologetic purposes, it is not necessary to prove the absolute and entire infallibility of Christ; that follows only from His Divinity, which can be left out from the apologetic course, and left over for the dogmatic treatises. Some, indeed, prefer to prove Christ’s claim to Divinity itself in apologetics, but this seems unwise, because it hinders more than it helps; one must at once bring in the doctrine of the Blessed Trinity, in order to meet the Jewish and Moslem objection that there cannot be two gods. We can prove that Christ was worthy of absolute acceptance as a religious teacher; but it is not necessary to show that even in remarks of no religious import upon matters in themselves indifferent He was incapable of formal error. It should be remarked, however, that the rejections of Christ’s infallibility already mentioned in § 6–7 imply formal error in His religious teaching, and call for reputation an apologetic as well as a dogmatic conclusion, it may briefly be indicated that this apologetic treatment of Holy Writ is approved by the Holy See. To give but one example, the Biblical Commission (May, 1907) lays it down that the evidence is sufficient to prove that St John was the author of the Fourth Gospel, even “abstracting from the theological argument”-that is to say, not appealing to the words of the Gospel precisely as inspired, or to the authority of the Church in various pronouncements which would have some bearing on the question. It is the duty of the lecturers in our Catholic seminaries, therefore, and of other Catholic teachers, to show that there is sufficient”apologetic” (that is, merely literary and historical) proof that St John wrote the Gospel which passes under his name.

It has been said earlier in this section that the apologetic treatment of Scripture must sometimes be adopted in answering difficulties.

If for example, it were said that St Paul taught the old Protestant theory of merely imputed justification, without any inward transformation of the soul by sanctifying grace, it would not be a very satisfactory answer to bring up the decrees of the Council of Trent, and to say that the Apostle’s doctrine must square with them. It is a poor compliment to Scripture to suppose that it can only be defended a priori in this way; it is plain enough when read carefully and under competent guidance, and is meant in the main to support Catholic doctrine, not to be supported by it. And to support Catholic doctrine it must be treated apologetically, without the proofs being drawn from Catholic doctrine itself.

10. Biblical Interpretation.-In the preceding sections the attempt has been made to explain the Catholic doctrine of biblical inerrancy in its general principles; in conclusion, something may be added about the application of those principles. When we think of truth or inerrancy in connection with the sacred books, we are apt to fasten our attention too exclusively upon historical truth, and even then to take too narrow a view even of the narratives of events. The Bible is an Oriental library, written, it is true, under divine inspiration with a sacred purpose; but we can safely say that that sacred purpose was not to produce scientific history in the modern Western sense, nor yet to forestall the exact phraseology of modern science, or the methods of up-to-date journalism, or the dry-cut argumentation of scholasticism. The wider the literary experience of the reader, especially in Oriental literature, the more easily he will find himself in touch with Holy Writ.

Poetry to a large extent is the expression of human emotion and fancy, rather than “a banquet of unmitigated fact.” The Psalmist desires the triumph of God’s cause, which is the cause of Israel; he prays for victory, which he depicts at times in all its horror, but his cry for vengeance does not reach beyond the grave. He depicts Jehovah in vivid imagery, which yet tells us much of the Divine Nature.

Natural phenomena the sacred writer describes as they strike him. If we can speak of the sun rising and setting, without committing ourselves in our words to a false physical theory, so also can he. When therefore it is said that at Josue’s word “the sun stood still in the midst of heaven” (Jos. x. 13), it is enough that it appeared to do so, just as it is enough for us that the sun appears to rise. More than one guess has been made as to what really happened, but we are not told enough to be at all certain.

The inerrancy of Holy Writ extends to morality no less than to truth. The history related in it is not always edifying, nor is it intended to be so. We have in fact terrible summary of Old Testament history from Our Lord Himself in the parable of the householder who let out his vineyard to husbandmen (Matt. xxi. 33–46, etc.) they maltreat or kill the servants sent to receive his dues and finally murder his son. No less terrible is the story: presented of the Jews by St Stephen in Acts vii, or Gentiles and Jews in Rom. I-iii. Other passages might be mentioned. But the divine purpose, as St Paul shows in the Epistle to the Romans, was working itself out, and the record, as he says, was written for our instruction and comfort and hope (Rom. xv. 4); there is another side to the story, and from the whole we can derive much help.

It is impossible to speak here of more than a very few passages, whether in regard of inerrancy or morality; it must be enough to say that for a valid objection on the score of morality it would be necessary to prove both that the deed was wicked and that the inspired writing approved of it. Jephte’s sacrifice of his daughter in accordance with his vow, to mention just one incident, is related without the slightest praise (Judges xi. 30–40), and was certainly wicked.

It is the doctrine of inerrancy that makes it possible for the devout Catholic to read his Bible without misgivings. It is good that he should advance in the understanding as in the love of it, and read what is easier first, without courting difficulties; but, above all he should never forget that it is a gift from our Heavenly Father, coming to us with the authority of Him who can neither deceive nor be deceived.

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The Unity of The Church

A STUDY OF JOHN XVII

BY REV. WALTER EBSWORTH

INDEX

THE Last Supper was over; the consummation of Eternal Love had been reached in that stupendous miracle-the institution of the Blessed Eucharist; they had fed upon His Sacred Body, they had drunk the Chalice of His Precious Blood; and for two hours or more had they listened as He spoke His farewell message, the while their souls were ravished with the mystery of their first Holy Communion.

They had left the Supper-Room, and had followed Him out through the shadows of the moonlit streets to the Temple. He was on His way to Gethsemani. A few steps further would lead them out through the south-eastern gate of the city, and the climb down the rocky path to the Brook Kedron and the rough journey along the river-bed to the Garden of Olives would stop all conversation. That last section of the journey, too, as they plunged into the dank and dim ravine,”the dismallest place in all the world,” and clambered slowly and cautiously through its forbidding gloom, would correspond to the terrible change that would come over the soul of Christ as”He began”to grow heavy and to be sad,” “sorrowful unto death.” Hence, while their souls were still on fire, while still they lingered spellbound at the promise and the tenderness in His last words, He stayed His steps awhile to address Himself to His Heavenly Father in prayer. Had they reached the Temple, and was it in the sacred precincts that His parting words were spoken? It seems more than likely they were uttered within sight or under the shadow of the sacred enclosure that, spread over eight acres, crowned the top of one of the five hills of Jerusalem.

THE TEMPLE

The Temple! The place was surely appropriate. Nowhere else could the outline of His future Church be more fitly drawn, or more impressively, than without the Old Law sanctuary.

The ancient world (so we are told) had nothing to display quite comparable with the wonder-temple of Jerusalem. There had been larger, more massive, costlier, architectural triumphs, but nothing which combined such graceful proportions with such subtle artistic beauty. Never was a mighty structure so uniquely situated; never, perhaps, a site so exquisitely adorned. Rising majestically to the summit of Mount Moriah, flanked on two sides by precipitous cliffs of varying height, it dominated the Holy City, and truly looked what indeed it was, the Place of God and the Altar of Sacrifice between earth and Heaven.

The Temple! The massive, bronze Corinthian gates; the countless monolithic pillars of white marble; the great sheets of wrought gold that covered the mighty walls of Herod’s superb edifice; the lovely marble courts, now flooded in Paschal moonlight; what a glorious setting for the final act of Our Saviour’s life before commencing His Passion!

Through the bronze portals could be seen the sleeping city, typical of the unknown world beyond, also sleeping, heavy with sin; while framed in the lofty courtyard pillars, bathed in Oriental moonlight, was the Temple proper, the Holy Place-truly a ready picture of the Church to come-massive, enduring, dominating, indestructible. The Jews had laughed Him to scorn when they understood Him to promise to destroy this Temple and in three days rebuild it. It seemed well-nigh eternal, and then God Himself was in that place.

The place was appropriate. Once a year, at the Pasch, the High Priest offered special sacrifice, entering the Holy of Holies. Now, the great High Priest of the New Testament is about to climb the Mount of Sacrifice to give Himself a Sacrifice for His people. The solemn offering of that Sacrifice, with an assurance of its efficacy, forms the burden of the Prayer of Christ which fills the whole of the 17th chapter of St. John’s Gospel.

There are commentators of great renown who hold that the sacred text would make this Prayer the conclusion of the Discourse following the Last Supper, and, therefore (sic), the solemn and reluctant farewell to the scene of the first Eucharist. It was spoken, they say, in the Supper-Room. Others, quoting the following verse xviii.,1 ,

“When Jesus had said these things

He went forth (exiit) with His disciples over the Brook Kedron,” would place the prayer in the vicinity of the Vale of Hinnom. Others again, with equal Scriptural warrant and perhaps more reason, locate the Prayer as”somewhere on the way between the Super-Room and Gethsemani.” It was a fairly long walk, and it is more than likely that the time was beguiled by part, at least, of the long farewell discourse so lastingly impressed on the memory of St. John. Indeed, thoughts therein were probably suggested on the way; the lovely passage beginning

“I am the true vine,” conceivably had a practical illustration-it was so like their Master’s simple method; the sights and sounds of the city, the hostile city of the hills, visible from so many points of vantage, while prompting the thought of the”many mansions” of His Father, reminded Him, too, of the hostility of the greater world that lay beyond:

“I have chosen you out of the world: therefore the world hateth you.”

And then the splendid vision of the Temple, as it came in sight, across the Valley of the Cheesemongers, which ran the length of the Holy City, may have called forth the words

“They will put you out of the synagogues.”

From then the note of sorrow creeps more. markedly into His words. The Temple and its awful destruction,. already predicted, and the still more awful destruction of the people of God -these were thoughts calculated to oppress His human Heart, which loved so dearly the land and the People He had chosen for His own.

It is no part of our argument to claim the Temple as the scene of the great Prayer in John xvii. The. words of the Prayer would have equal force spoken anywhere. But nowhere else do they fit so naturally; there, in its shadow, more than elsewhere, can the imagination grasp the great historical fact, the abrogation of the Old Covenant in favour of the New.

THE PRAYER

The stage was set-the Master, the Temple, the city, the silence, the mystery of the place, and, over all, the pale moon of Nisan high in the clear night sky lighting the world-with glory, the glory of God, it seemed to the Apostles. It is with this last thought the Prayer begins:

(a) Introduction.

1. Lifting up His eyes to Heaven, He said:”Father, the hour is come, glorify Thy Son,

2. that Thy Son may glorify Thee. As Thou hast given Him power over all flesh, that He may give eternal life to all whom Thou

3. hast given Him. Now this is eternal life: that they may know Thee, the, only true God, and Jesus Christ, Whom Thou hast sent.

4. “I have glorified Thee on the earth: I have finished. the work which Thou gavest

5. Me to do: and now glorify Thou,.Me, O Father, with the glory which I had, before

6. the world was, with Thee. I have manifested Thy name, to the men whom Thou hast given Me out of the world. . Thine they, were, and to Me Thou gavest them:

7. and they have kept Thy word. Now they have known that all things which Thou

8. hast given Me are from Thee: because the words which Thou gavest Me I have given to them, and they have received them, and have known in very deed that I came out from Thee, and they have believed that Thou didst send Me.

9. “I pray for them: I pray not for the world, but for them whom Thou hast given

10. Me: because they are Thine; and all My things are Thine, and Thine are Mine:

11. and I am glorified in them. And now I am not in the world, and these are in the world, and I come to Thee.

(b) Petition.

“Holy Father, keep them in Thy name which Thou hast given Me: that they may be one, as We also are. 12.”While I was with them, 1 kept them in Thy name. Those whom Thou gavest Me have I kept: and none of them is lost but the son of perdition, that the scripture may

13. be fulfilled. And now I come to Thee: and these things I speak in the world, that they may have My joy filled in themselves.

14. I have given them Thy word, and the world hath hated them, because they are not of the world, as I also am not of the world.

15.”I pray not that Thou shouldst take them out of the world, but that Thou shouldst

16. keep them from (the) evil. They are not of the world: as I also am not of the world.

17.”Sanctify them in (the) truth. Thy word

18. is truth. As Thou hast sent Me into the world, I also have sent them into the world.

19. And for them do I sanctify Myself: that they also may be sanctified in truth.

20.”And not for them only do I pray, but for them also who through their word shall believe in Me: 21. that they all may be one, as Thou, Father, in Me, and I in Thee: that They also may be one in Us: that the world may believe that Thou hast sent Me;

22. and the glory which Thou hast given Me, I have given to them: that they may be one, as We also are one. 23. I in them, and Thou in Me: that they may be made perfect in one; and the world may know that Thou hast sent

Me, and hast loved them, as Thou hast loved Me.

(c) Peroration.

24. “Father, I will that where I am, they also whom Thou hast given Me may be with Me: that they may see My glory which Thou hast given Me, because Thou hast loved me before the foundation of the world.

25.”Just Father, the world hath not known Thee: but I have known Thee: and these

26. have known that Thou hast sent Me: and I have made known Thy name to them, and will make it known; that the love, wherewith Thou hast loved Me, may be in them, and I in them.”

There the Prayer ends.

MINOR FEATURES

There are several incidental features of the Prayer which cannot be overlooked. In the first place, Christ claims to be God: or, rather, He makes a simple statement of the fact which should not properly be called a claim. In the opening verses”(1–5) we find indirect inferences, especially the two-fold mention of the”glory” common to Father and Son. But there is no ambiguity about the several passages in which He refers to His “Oneness” with His Eternal Father. This affirmation of unity with the Father, that is, His Divinity, is more than ever necessary now when the Apostles are receiving the Deposit of Truth, and invests this Prayer with deeper solemnity and significance.

Another remarkable feature is verse 3, which might be taken as a definition of Christian faith here, or as a description of the Beatific Vision, the happiness of Heaven, hereafter. Noteworthy, too, are the words:

“As Thou hast sent Me into the world, So also have I sent them into the world”: which, taken in conjunction with the solemn mission given on Easter night:

“As the Father hath sent Me, I also send you.” may be definitely interpreted, especially when their position in the Prayer is considered, as conferring absolute teaching authority. The Apostles were not only to take His place, they were to act and teach in His Name, and with His authority-the authority of the Eternal Father Himself. No less interesting is the title, Jesus Christ, by which here alone our Saviour designates Himself.

And now for a detailed

ANALYSIS OF THE PRAYER

The Prayer is easily divisible into three parts, each significantly opening with the title, Father: 1. A statement of the circumstances of the Prayer. This includes a formal request for His own glorification. 2. The Prayer proper, which is first spoken for the Apostles, then extended to include His disciples to the end of time, then amplified and repeated in detail.

3. A peroration, a prayer for final perseverance”with a Volo of particularly strong petition,” probably intended specially for the Apostles, but applicable to His whole future Church.

1. The Circumstances.

The circumstances of the Prayer are of the utmost importance. Immediately the Prayer is concluded, St. John continues:

“When Jesus had said these things,

He went forth with His disciples over the brook Kedron, where there was a garden, into which He entered with His disciples.”

Gethsemani! the Garden of the Agony! The Prayer then is the last official act of His life before commencing His sacred Passion. Lest there be any suspicion of undue colouring in using the phrase,”official act,” it is as well to quote

Kochhafe,* known to Protestant works as”one of the last fathers of Lutheranism.” In his commentary on this chapter he calls it”the great sacerdotal prayer of Christ,” and stressing its importance says: “He speaks like a Pontiff.” But outside testimony to its importance is unnecessary. Our Lord Himself, in the introduction to the Prayer (1–10), emphasises its significance. The Apostles are standing with Him at the parting of the ways.”The hour is come. . . . I have finished the work which Thou gavest Me to do . . . and now . . . I come to Thee.” Tiny extracts give no idea of the poignancy of the parting words. He is leaving them, He is leaving them to return to His Father; He is leaving them alone, alone in the world without Him.

His own work is finished.”I have glorified Thee on the earth. . . . I have manifested Thy Name to the men whom

Thou hast given Me out of the world . . . the words which Thou gavest Me I have given to them.” But now? “Now, I am not in the world, and these are in the world, and I come to Thee. . . . While I was with them I kept them in Thy

Name . . . and now I come to Thee.” Only a few pieces torn from the context, but what an idea they convey of the earnestness in the words and manner of their departing Master.”He speaks like a Pontiff;” he speaks like a father making his dying depositions; like the patriarch Jacob conferring his blessings on his twelve sons before being

“gathered to his fathers.”

Briefly, He declares the triple reason for the Prayer:

“Because they are Thine” (9),

“and I am glorified in them” (10),

“and they are in the world”-alone (11).

2. The Prayer Proper.

Then simply and briefly He states His petition:

“Pater Sancte, serva eos in Nomine Tuo, quod dedisti Mihi, ut sint unum, sicut et Nos.”

“Holy Father,* keep them in Thy Name, Which Thou hast given Me, that they may be one, as We also are.” This is the theme of His Prayer. It may be divided into three parts:

1. Keep them

2. That they may be one

3. As We are One.

A careful reading will show that this is the very soul of Christ’s petition. His Church is to be holy,”sanctified in truth “ (v. 19), catholic, too (v. 20), and apostolic (vv. 18–20); but these are merely passing thoughts in a prayer that is almost wholly concerned with unity. And the very direct petition of v. 15, in which He prays His Father to”keep them from (the) evil,” does not weaken this contention, for, seeing that the burden of the Prayer is for unity, it is only a natural inference that the evil especially feared is disunity. But it may be something else, yet something that of itself demolishes unity.

“Sanctifica cos in veritate . . .”Sanctify them in the truth.” (v. 17).

Would it be the opposite of truth, the falsification of His teaching? This undoubtedly would seriously hinder or frustrate their sanctification. Even so, the idea is the same, for false doctrine invariably breeds disunity. When the standards of religious revolt were raised in the sixteenth century and avaricious princes sought to tear their peoples from the centre of Catholic unity, if Western Europe had as yet no firsthand knowledge of the devastation that follows

* Kochhafe: latine Chytraeus.

* Holy Father: this expression occurs nowhere else in the Gospels. schism, it was to learn, and speedily, too, by bitter experience, that doctrinal innovation and disunity are synonymous terms.

Looking into the future, our Saviour saw the shocks awaiting His Church. He saw the struggle of the Apostolic ages against ancient paganism, with Truth inevitably prevailing. But he saw worse storms preparing, schisms and heresies almost without number which would shake the Church to its foundations. The greatest trials would come from within. He saw heretical forces hurling themselves against the great Repository of Truth.

“ Father, keep them from the evil.” His prayer was heard, for confusion has always followed schism, Scattered around the Rock of Peter today are seen the broken remnants of rebellious creeds, but the children of the Kingdom are still united in their ancient Faith.

So our Blessed Saviour prayed for unity, and five times the petition recurs with increasing emphasis:

1. Holy Father, keep them . . . that they may be one, as We also are (v. 11); ,

2. That they also may be one, as Thou, Father, in Me, and I in Thee (v. 21);

3. That they also may be one in Us: that the world may believe that Thou hast sent Me, and the glory which Thou hast given Me, I have given to them (vv. 21–22) ;

4. That they may be one, as We also are One, I in them, and Thou in Me (vv. 22–23);

5. That they may be made perfect in one; and the world may know that Thou hast sent Me, and hast loved them as Thou hast also loved Me (v. 23).

“That they may be one.” Five times, no less!

Our Lord-we say it with reverence-was in deadly earnest. He never spoke more seriously, never used simpler language.

EMPHASIS BY REPETITION

It is impossible to dismiss as negligible, unwise to underestimate, this repetition on the lips of the Christ. It was a familiar method of imparting instruction. He used it constantly to give a solemn earnestness to His ordinary teaching. He was dealing with a people”foolish and slow,” “hard of heart,” “perverse,” and often hostile; and reiteration was necessary to drive His words home. But was there any absolute necessity for Him to repeat Himself in prayer? None whatever, unless He intended His prayer to be an instruction as well.

There is the similar example of the Agony in the Garden later this same night, where, during the hour-long struggle with a sorrow unto death, He kept praying”the self-same prayer.” We know that His prayer was heard, because “an Angel appeared from Heaven, comforting Him,” and He rose, refreshed and strengthened, to go out and meet the traitor. Who that writes of this sorrowful prelude to His Passion but will quote it as a Divine illustration of meeting trouble with prayer, and of perseverance in that prayer? For His prayer is more than a prayer, it is a Divine lesson.

And the great Prayer of Christ in this 17th chapter of St. John, too. As St. Thomas Aquinas wrote: The Prayer of Christ is more for our instruction. It may show the value of repeating the selfsame prayer, but it is intended as well to reveal and perpetuate the institutional character of Christ’s Church-its unity.

HEBREW AND SYRO-CHALDAIC

To see more clearly how true this is, we must remember the character of Hebrew, which might be called the parentstock of the Syro-Chaldaic spoken by Our Lord and His contemporaries. Though most ancient in origin-the Hebrews believed it to be the speech of the Garden of Eden-”the sacred language” had retained a primitive simplicity, avoiding the grand style and elaborate constructions of the classic tongues. Its vocabulary is surprisingly meagre, being notably wanting in philosophical terms and abstract ideas. For example, there is no equivalent for the word “religion,” which is imperfectly, though very practically, often rendered “fear of the Lord.” And God’s Eternity, the unicum in.stans of philosophy, inexpressible because humanly inconceivable, is simply rendered by the Wise Man:”A thousand years with Thee are but a day.” Could a child fail to catch the meaning? Could a great philosopher make it clearer in so few words? Superlatives especially are wanting, hence emphasis, so overdone in modern speech, is expressed, and very effectively, by striking similes or more often by simple reiteration. Who can miss the inexorable force of the Mosaic judgment:”Dying he shall die.” Or the warning in the words of Christ: “He that hath ears to hear let him hear.” Or the power and authority in the revelation to St. John: “These things saith the Holy One and the True One, He that hath the key of David, He that openeth and no man shutteth, shutteth and no man openeth.”

This simplicity of expression, necessitating as it does the liberal use of poetic comparisons and vivid repetitions, has undoubtedly made for beauty. But, while we sometimes hold our breath at the sheer loveliness of Scriptural passages, we are not permitted to lose sight of their impressiveness or of the straining of the writer to force home his point. If the language was inadequate, at least he made good use of it: if his hearers were not trained logicians, they never failed to understand the universal language of signs, and signs were freely used. Repetition was more than a poetic picturesqueness; it was the quaint but determined effort of a simple language to express itself more forcibly.

Now, the speech of our Saviour was not Biblical Hebrew: but it was a dialect of kindred stock, and certainly of similar characteristics, used as it was collaterally with the Hebrew of the synagogues. Since it was not as yet a recognised literary medium, its forms were probably cruder, and a free expression was only attained by a rich Oriental imagery, which was not so much, an affectation as a necessity.

“Never man spoke like this Man,” they said of Our Blessed Lord. Possibly the tone of authority which so accorded with His naturally majestic bearing lent colour to the thought, but His very words have borne the test of time. The loftiest conceptions of which the human mind is capable are conveyed in words that even a child may understand. The almost. primitive dialect of Palestine has become the effective medium of Divine Revelation.

So with the case in point. Mark the utter simplicity and clarity of the Prayer. There is nothing cryptic, hardly a word except sanctify (v. 19)*, which requires special explanation, or has lost in translation. Our Lord does not pray in abstruse theological terminology that the. Church of His institution be endowed with unity of faith, of worship, of government. The language was defective, and His Apostles would scarce have understood. Yet these are the ideas conveyed, though the words be ever so simple. How memorable the occasion-the night of the Passion; and the repetition so fraught with meaning, so full of Divine assurance! Nowhere else, save in the equally momentous Eucharistic promise of John vi., does our Saviour repeat the same idea so many times, and here is the double idea: “one, as We are One.” It is the dominant chord in the Master’s farewell, a chord that lingers, not dying”now with the sadly sweet intonation of His voice, but lasting into the future to be the motif in the harmony of the Church-to-be. How foolish and illogical many centuries later for people of a changed mentality and totally different forms of speech to squeeze all real significance from out these marvellous words.

Was this the whole of Christ’s Prayer: or was it simply what St. John remembered under the light of Divine grace? We cannot say; but this much is certain, St. John was deeply impressed by the fervour in his Master’s words. and the Holy Ghost, who refreshed his memory and guided his pen, intended what was written for our special instruction.

It was popular in the heyday of French and German Rationalism to question the authorship of the Fourth Gospel. Higher Critics, as they modestly called one another, judged from internal evidence that it was impossible for the Gospel to have been written in the lifetime of St. John, and, indeed, until long after, and one reason given was the clear definition of the Church therein depicted. It could only have been written, they said, when the Church had attained a certain period of development and had a thorough consciousness of itself.

Happily, Scriptural tradition has recovered from the first shock of this arbitrary conclusion, and no one of any critical authority doubts to-day that the Fourth Gospel belongs to the first century, but it caused much doubt and gained considerable support in non-Catholic circles. The theory”died the death,” but at least it had this good effect, it drew attention to the theological wealth of St. John’s Gospel, and after the magnificent exposition of the Divinity of Christ, in the first chapter, the outstanding lesson, so unique, so emphatic, so consciously and deliberately constructive, is surely the Unity of Christ’s Church as defined in the seventeenth chapter.

* ‘Sanctify: The Greek verb is”hagiazo,” which is better rendered”consecrate,” being the sacred word regularly used in the Old Testament Greek to express priestly ordination, or the dedication of the sacrifices (cf. Exod. xxix., 1 and 26), just as”hagiasma” meant the sanctuary. The use of the legal term seems more than accidental. The text may be rendered thus: For them do I dedicate my Sacrifice that they may be consecrated fit ministers and preachers of the Truth.

PERFECT UNITY!

“That they may be one.” Five times these words recur, and the force of this reiteration should not be missed. Unity, and unity alone, is His constant petition, for, given unity, all things else would fellow. Unity then was to be the fundamental necessity, the principal mark, of His Church. And that unity was to be perfect.”That they may be made perfect in one,” is the climax, the final request.

Perfect unity! Did it not seem a dream, a beautiful dream, but something quite impossible with fallen man? Yet our Saviour insists on the idea of unity, and perfect unity at that. And, as if our feeble language were incapable of describing the perfect oneness required, He attaches thereto the following remarkable words-and note again the repetition and the varied emphasis:

(“That they may be one”)

1.”As We are One” (v. 11);

2.”As Thou, Father, in Me, and I in

Thee” (v. 21);

3.”In Us” (v. 21);

4.”As We also are One” (v. 22);

5.”I in them, and Thou in Me” (v. 23).

Which, if words have any meaning, is comparing the perfect oneness of His future Church with the supreme, incomprehensible Unity of the Trinity.

THE TRIUNE GOD

Can we form a mental picture of God? Were a traveller back from Terra Australis two centuries ago to tell of a new discovery which he designated macropus giganteus, Europeans could have formed a fairly accurate mental picture of the kangaroo from his description. But the mystery of God is forever infinitely beyond us. When God said to Moses: “I AM WHO AM,” if the description of Himself was not complete, at least it was the simplest way the human mind would grasp the thought of God.

He is Life and the Author of life, Being and the Cause, of being. His Essence is Existence. He is not composed of parts,”in Him there is no change or shadow of alteration,” no succession, no division, no separation of perfections. All is Unity, incommunicable, unattainable, utter simplicity.”Deus est actus purus,” said St. Thomas Aquinas,, in a brilliant, but oh! how inadequate an effort to reduce the Almighty to philosophical terms.

And how describe the Trinity? St. Thomas and the Schoolmen endeavoured humbly to do so, in a way that is probably true:-The Father, the Infinite and Eternal, the supreme act of Being; the Word or Son, the infinite and eternal act of Divine Self-consciousness, and because infinite and eternal, a Divine Person, Himself God, and possessing equally the Divine Essence; and the Holy Ghost, the infinite and eternal act of Divine Satisfaction and mutual Love, therefore a third Person within God. It is the highest mystery of our Faith, the Trinity of God in His Absolute Unity.

COMPARISON WITH THE TRINITY

Yet, Our Lord made a comparison which man with all his foolish vanity would not be daring or presumptuous enough to make (but that He made it first), between the unity of the Church and the Unity which is God. And even in the face of that comparison, despite the human frailty of its living constituents, He allowed Himself to picture the unity of. His Church as”perfect.”

It is not right to minimise the value of His words, and to say they are a loose description, a comparison that should not be overdone, a simple, homely lesson to His disciples. Certainly, He was anxious that His Apostles know the fact that He claimed to be true God, consubstantial with the Father, and therefore in their hearing and for their benefit He addressed the Eternal One as an equal”as We are One.” But it cannot be said that He chose words lightly or used them inaccurately or repeated them carelessly: so when He prayed:”That they may be One, as We are . . . as Thou, Father, in Me, and I in Thee,” it must be admitted that He offered as the sublimest of prototypes for His Church, “that ineffable Pattern, wherein all is substantial unity in a distinction of Persons,” and therefore placed no limits to its essential unity.

That comparison must have been justified, and the perfect unity visualised not only was possible, but must have been realised.”Thou in Me, I in them,” only a prayer, but realised, nevertheless, for He said: “I am with you all days even to the consummation of the world.” The unity of the Church, which is compared with the oneness of the Blessed Trinity-and which is stated to be founded on the Holy Trinity”one in Us,” and on the perpetual abiding of Christ Himself”I in them,” must be like that abiding, a fact to the end of time.

Where in Christendom is that positive, supernatural unity to be found, save in the One, Holy, Catholic and Apostolic Church, founded on St. Peter and governed by his successors, the Bishops of Rome? Did that perfect unity of faith, of worship, of government, ever fail? Was it ever found elsewhere? Pertinent questions, having each one answer, and that indisputable. And if Christ lives again and is glorified in His Church, the promise of perennial unity can find no fulfilment elsewhere.

PROTESTANT “UNITY OF SPIRIT.”

Non-Catholic commentators, bereft as they are of the wonderful actual experience of unity which is the happy inheritance of children of the Faith, but compelled to provide some suitable explanation of our Saviour’s emphatic insistence on unity as well as an apology for the manifest disintegration of Protestantism, suggest, in words that are generally very vague, that the unity in question is what they call”unity of spirit.” Christians throughout the world, they say, striving ever upwards, are united in spirit through the common possession of the same blessed hope and through the personal love of”the one true God and Jesus” Christ Whom He hath sent.” Though divided into different camps, they are followers of the one great Leader, and their warfare is against the same enemies. Eventually there will be a general recognition of the futility of dogmatic differences and an undivided Christendom bound together simply by the ties of faith, hope, and love.

A pretty conception, and indeed an interesting suggestion, but it finds no place in Our Lord’s prophetic prayer, where unity and the truth alone are mentioned and are emphasised as inseparable co-ordinates of His Kingdom.

“Unity of spirit” is only a clumsy makeshift, and comes disingenuously from the very dogmatic dividers of Christendom. It is idle to pretend that any such spirit exists outside the Catholic Church. Unity cannot be found, and never has existed, save on the Rock-foundation which was the institution of Christ (Math. xvi., 18). We must accept the Church as Christ left her, and as the Holy Ghost,”the Spirit of Truth,” abiding with her for ever (John, xiv., 16, 26, and xvi., 13) has preserved her. Our Saviour knew what was in man, his perversity, his errability, and He safeguarded her from without. Only human perversity could have suggested the alternative, which is a nebulous, impossible theory, designed, speaking colloquially, to make the best of a bad job.

UNITY THAT IS VISIBLE

Nearly four hundred years ago, unscrupulous, irreligious, rapacious princes, not one of whom even Protestants revere, slashed and hacked at the Church, and severed great sections, which, unfortunately for their descendants, have continued the process ever since. The fact is there, and is nowhere so striking and deplorable as on the mission-fields, where the poor heathen finds it hard to reconcile the claims and teachings of Christianity with such discord and division, and harder still to discover where is the True Light. And has he any infallible test? He has, and again the Prayer provides it. It is visible unity.

Christ prayed:

1.”That they may be one, that the world may believe that Thou hast sent Me, and the glory which Thou hast given Me, I have given to them.

2.”That they may be made perfect in one, that”the world may know that Thou hast sent Me, and hast loved them as Thou hast loved Me.”

It was to be Unity versus Disunity, and the world was to be the judge. He had spoken of”the world” many times this night, and always to signify the hostile, unbelieving peoples amongst whom the Apostles would be working. Willing or unwilling, it would witness to His Church, by acknowledging the moral miracle of its unity. Doctrinal truth is not proposed by Christ as leading men to embrace the communion of the Household of the Faith, rather the perfect union of that household is a certain test of the truth of its doctrines. Yet the outside world has adopted the un-Christian attitude of confessing to the actuality of that unity, while failing to make the obvious inference that there alone can rest the Deposit of Truth.

The unity of the Church was to be visible, visible to the world, even to the world that would hate it. For the Church has an extraordinary mission-to demonstrate in itself the Divinity of Christ. Firm as the Rock on which it is built, unassailable as the Pyramids, it is a silent monument, yet a living witness to the Divinity of Christ. How? By its oneness, its perfect oneness.

How can anyone dare to underestimate the value of the clearly visible unity of the Catholic Church? He was constantly appealing to His works, to His miracles, especially His Resurrection, to His prophecies, and to His fulfilment of Scriptural predictions”they testify of Me.” And the character of the Church, above and beyond all else its visible unity, was His final prophecy, a living, permanent, unmistakably visible witness for the whole world to see, testifying in itself to the fact that He”came out from God,” that He was true God as well as true man.

There is no doubt about the meaning of the Prayer in this great chapter of St. John. Our Blessed Saviour prayed for unity in His Church to the end of time, and He contemplated a visible unity for all the world to see, a unity so perfect that, with a gracious flight of fancy no human tongue could forestall, He compared it with the sublimest of Divine Mysteries-the Unity within the most Holy Trinity.

HIS FINAL PROPHECY

Now, can this Prayer be taken as a prophecy? Was this Prayer heard? Was it efficacious?

How can we believe otherwise.”Il sait que ce qu’il decide s‘executera,” says a French writer. He prays as one who knows He will be heard. And, indeed, it would be a want of faith, if not a blasphemy, to hold that this Prayer to His Heavenly Father, so direct, so emphatic, so persevering, and offered in such dramatic circumstances should go unanswered. La priere se perpetue. It has had, and will have, its perpetuation in the Catholic Church.

“ Surely,” says Cardinal Billot, “this Prayer, representing the absolute will of Christ, must in all things have been infallibly fulfilled.” The absolute will of Christ! A point so obvious in every sentence of our Saviour’s last petition. He could pray like us for whatever might seem humanly desirable, yet, like us, in perfect resignation to the Wisdom of His Father:”nevertheless, not My will, but Thine, be done.” But here there is, no such condition, His glorification is identified with an indefectible Church, and His Sacrifice is offered for that end.

Further, if “the prayer of the just man pierces the clouds,” what of the prayers of the “Just One” Himself? “If you ask the Father anything in My Name,” He assured them, “He will give it you.” In His Name! What, then, if He asked Himself? “I will ask the Father. and He shall give you another Comforter.” The answer is simaly taken for granted. Is there any need to stress this point further?

But we should miss entirely the value of the Prayer if we overlooked the nature of the two Persons most intimately concerned. It is God the Son addressing God the Father-God the Son made man, certainly, but the Eternal Son of the Almighty Father nevertheless:

Cujus una stilla salvum facere

Totum mundum quit ab omni scelere: a single drop of His Precious Blood could have redeemed the world, for the least action of His life, we are taught, had merit immeasurable, being attributable, albeit a human action, to an Infinite Personality.

Here, however, we must make quite clear the commonsense of Catholic theology. “Whenever Christ prayed,” writes Dr. Leonard,* “He prayed as man. As the Son of God He could not pray, for He had only the one omnipotent Will of the Godhead. On account of the dignity of the Person that prayed, and His human sanctity, no prayer of Christ passed unheard, but, according to circumstances, the tone of assurance in which the prayer was voiced could range through the whole vast interval which”the form of a servant”-united to the Godheadadmitted.” Here and now we have the God-Man solemnly dedicating His final Sacrifice:

“For them do I sanctify Myself”:

I consecrate Myself a Victim. His ineffable Sacrifice, than which no offering could be more powerful, more efficacious, is here dedicated for them.

*Rev. W. Leonard, D.D., in”The Australasian Catholic Record,” July, 1933.

This is well called “the Sacerdotal Prayer of Christ.” As Dr. Leonard observes in his beautiful study of the Prayer, this title has completely established itself in modern usage, although it is ancient. The point is strongly emphasised again and again by St. Cyril of Alexandria (376–444), in a very long exposition of the Prayer, for example:”Once again as man, the Reconciler and”Mediator of God and man exercises His mediation, and that truly great and most holy Pontiff of ours obtains by His supplications the favour of His Father, making priestly offering of Himself for us.” Yes, as the High Priest approaches the Altar of Sacrifice, He presents one petition with the offering of the Victim:

“ Father, I have glorified Thee . . .

“Now glorify Thou Me .

“I am glorified in them” .

Not only would He be glorified by their belief in His Divinity, but the wondrous harmony and perfection of His earthly kingdom also would contribute to the glory of its Founder. The sole condition is unity. That assured, its mission of sanctification would continue unhindered, uninterrupted: and so He asks for unity in exchange for His own great Sacrifice.

Note the logical sequence:-The merit of His Sacrifice will ensure that His Church will never depart from its primitive unity: perpetual unity will ensure the preservation of the truth: and the truth, its privileges and graces, will sanctify them, for they will be”heirs indeed of God, and co-heirs with Christ,” “the Father will love them” even as He loves His own Divine Son.

We remember with sorrow how the early “reformers” of the sixteenth century plunged into their wild orgy of new doctrine”wild-cat theology,” Americans would call it today. Even their children modified it, and their children’s children have long since rejected it. What a mockery of the eternal, unchangeable Truth!

THE EUCHARIST AND UNITY

For Catholics, the heirs of both unity and truth, there is a secondary meaning in the words”sanctified in Truth,” which at once suggests the source of unity and explains its operation. “The Truth” is a name our Blessed Saviour gave Himself:”I am the Way, the Truth, and the Life”: and in very fact are we sanctified in Him, in His Sacred Flesh and Blood. “He that eateth My Flesh and drinketh My Blood abideth in Me and I in Him.” The Eucharistic Sacrifice, which everlastingly continues and represents”the Lord’s Death,” and extends the grace and operation of that “full, perfect, and sufficient Sacrifice” on Calvary, everlastingly protects the children of His kingdom by communicating to them”the Bread of Life,” and all the graces which flow, as from a fountain inexhaustible, from the Table of the Lord. For them, in the Mass, He “sanctifies” Himself, constantly, everywhere, “that they may be sanctified in Truth.” The very word “Communion” means unity, oneness with Christ, “I in them.”

HOW UNITY WAS ENSURED

These last considerations suggest the final question:

Did our Divine Lord, in this Prayer, or on the occasion of this Prayer, reveal how unity, perfect unity, would be attained, and retained, within His Church?

He did. It was not only by the preservation of the truth, although He distinctly prays for their sanctification in truth, and, therefore, ensured its permanence. But truth needs, preserving as well as unity. The loss of truth, despite irreproachable virtue and the sincerest searchings after the “True Light,” can only, have the, disastrous opposite effect, as history testifies, of dismembering Christendom. Did He make provision for preserving both truth and unity?

We find the answer in the 22nd chapter of St. Luke “s Gospel, where Our Lord says solemnly to St. Peter: “Simon, Simon, behold Satan hath desired to have you that he might sift you as wheat: but I have prayed for thee that thy faith fail not: and thou, having once been converted, confirm thy brethren.”

From the context in St. Luke we find these words occur between the Last Supper and the Agony in Gethsemani, and therefore were spoken about the same time as the great Prayer of John xvii., the two being separated, if at all, by not more than a few minutes.

Were they leaving the sacred precincts of the Temple and gazing through the Paschal moonlight across the hills and valleys of Southern Judea? Did their thoughts go back to the terrible prophecies of three days before, when our Saviour had foretold the utter destruction of the glorious Temple of Herod? What could keep the future Church from crumbling similarly to ruin, or save it from the onslaughts of enemies bent on its destruction? Again Our Lord anticipated their doubts.

The rustling of leaves in the breeze off the desert probably recalled the work so familiar.

PETER “S UNIFYING FAITH

“Simon, Simon, behold Satan hath desired to have you that he might sift you as wheat,” to separate you one from another, to shake you to pieces-the metaphor suggests extreme violence. And note the plural number, you, the Apostles, yes, and”all those who through their word shall believe in Me.” Then the sudden change to thee, as He focuses attention on St. Peter. “But I have prayed for thee”-where? was it in the Prayer just finished, was that prayer for unity a prayer, too, for the safeguarding of Peter’s faith?”That thy faith fail not”-surely there is question here of Peter’s infallibility as well as of his primacy, and of the primacy and infallibility of his successors, the Roman Pontiffs, which even prejudiced critics will readily admit have made for perfect unity.

It is noteworthy that in neither case is holiness, or even the great Christian virtue of charity (love), even hinted at- these must follow their sanctification in the truth and the preservation of Peter’s faith. But it is noteworthy that in both cases is there reference to unity.”Confirm* thy brethren.” Peter is the strengthener, the confirmer-and what is that but the unifier?-of his brethren, he would keep them together, would keep them one.

PETER THE ROCK

And as Apostolic unity would live on in the Church to the end of time, so with the unifying faith of Peter. What building is safe whose foundations are unsound? And what more natural, more necessary than that Christ Our Lord should firmly establish His Church, as, indeed, He did, on a saving foundation?

“Thou art Peter (the Rock),”

He had promised (Matt., xvi., 18),”and on this rock I will build My Church; and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it: and to thee will I give the keys of the kingdom of heaven.”**

What does a rock-foundation do? It prevents a structure from falling or being shaken to pieces; it holds it together, it keeps it one. Unity again!

“ONE FOLD AND ONE SHEPHERD.”

Only a few short days will pass, and again will come a parting, this time the final farewell as He ascends to the Father. The Good Shepherd is. leaving His”little flock,” but not unguarded. There shall still be”one fold (or flock) and one shepherd.” To Peter he gives the universal commission:

“ Feed My lambs . shepherd My little sheep . feed My sheep.” (John, xxi.)

What is it gives the Catholic Church, and always will give, its undeniably perfect unity? What else but the ruling and teaching authority, exercised and acknowledged, of the successor of St. Peter in the See of Rome?

And what has happened to those unfortunate parts of the Christian world which renounced allegiance to St. Peter “s successors?

*”Confirm”: The Greek verb here used comes from the word “sterigx,” a support, a prop, a stay.

**”The kingdom of heaven”: The familiar way Our Saviour often spoke of His Church on earth (cf. Matt, xiii., 24, 31, 47).”The keys”: A Hebrew metaphor for supreme authority (cf. Isai., xxii, 22, and Rev., i., 17–18).

We know the awful results of the Protestant revolt of the 16th century. First, liberty; wild, hilarious liberty. Then, divisions; fierce, irreconcilable divisions. Then, rapid disintegration, and a whittling away of all traditional Catholic truth, a process continuing to-day in spite of fervent aspirations towards reunion. Apart from the rock-foundation of Peter, the Protestant bodies or their distinctive tenets have resolved in crumbling ruins: Satan has sifted them as wheat is sifted. Unity has long been lost; is, indeed, admittedly impossible, according to the fundamental Protestant principle of free-thought. And with unity, truth. Their differences proclaim the fact, as well as their common boast of being “fellow-searchers after truth.”

Fellow-searchers after truth! It is a painful experience for Catholics, disappointing, at times exasperating, to see so many earnest men and women groping for the Light, seeking here, there and everywhere, sampling every other type of religious teaching, dabbling in every innovation, mystic and mysterious, but studiously avoiding the greatest and most ancient Christian body, the only one of undisputed Apostolic descent and with unimpeachable claim to the title Catholic, the only one proclaiming its possession of the whole Deposit of Truth, which states its teaching fully, definitely and unambiguously, and proves each detail clearly, thoroughly and convincingly. Time was when no selfarrogating rival challenged the authority of the Catholic Church; when the Faith was universal throughout Christendom; when the thought of different”churches” teaching independently and with contradictory voices and changing their creeds with the times would have struck the average man as absurdly funny; he would have thought it impossible, or, at least, indefensible; he would have recognised it for what it is, a blasphemous travesty of Our Saviour’s work, the devil’s handiwork; he would have said, with obvious logic, as God is one and Truth is one, there can be but one true Church. Yet this great Catholic Church, which ruled alone a thousand years before the so-called Reformation, which holds today the proud allegiance of over three hundred millions, is simply overlooked by so many who undoubtedly are sincerely endeavouring to serve God faithfully. They pass it by as beneath consideration, never suspecting the vast sacramental treasures it cherishes, and the joy, the pride, the peace, of the children. of light. It is a prejudice begotten of four centuries of misstatement and misrepresentation. They have ears to hear, yet hear not the voice of Christ foretelling the one great visible mark of His Church, its unity. They have eyes to see, yet see not before their eyes that perfect unity which is at once the answer to His prayer and the fulfilment of His prophecy.

Nihil obstat:

J. DONOVAN, Censor Deputatus.

Imprimatur

@ D. MANNIX,

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis.

********

The Wisdom of The Desert: Part 1

JAMES O. HANNAY

INDEX

PREFACE

THIS little booklet is neither a critical examination of the earlier Egyptian monastic literature nor an historical account of the movement. It is nothing more than an attempt to appreciate the religious spirit of the first Christian monks. I do not know of any other similar attempt, though an exceedingly interesting study of the hermit life will be found in E. Lucius’ Das Mönchische Leben des vierten und fünften Jahrhunderts in der Beleuchtung seiner Vertreter und Gönnor.

The collection of stories and sayings which I have translated, sometimes very freely, must be regarded merely as an anthology culled from the “meadows” of the literature of the desert life. There is much more which is worthy of a place in our devotional literature, and which, I hope, may, in the future be arranged and translated by men more fitted for the task than I am. I acknowledge gratefully the assistance I have received from two friends-Miss Bloxham and the Rev. C. S. Collins-whose sympathy with things that are high and holy has been a constant help to me in my work.

I have further to acknowledge the very great kindness of Father Andrew, S.D.C., who designed the drawings which both adorn this volume and interpret the spirit of the hermits’ teaching.

After the MS. of this book was in the publishers’ hands I received, through the kindness of Professor Zöckler, of Greifswald, a copy of his recently published Die Tugendlehre des Christentums The work is of great importance for anyone engaged in the study of the ethics of monasticism, but I have not felt myself obliged to modify anything I have written. Professor Zöckler’s point of view and his object are entirely different from mine. He is scientific; I hope only to suggest devotional thought.

In the course of my Introduction I allude to the want of a critical study of the Apophthegmata. I am now informed by Dom E. C. Butler, O.S.B., that such a work is being prepared by Abbé Nau, and will soon be published in the Patrologia Orientalis by Firmin-Didot (Paris).

J. O. H

Westport, Ireland, 1904

CHAPTER 1

THE HIDDEN TREASURE

The Kingdom of Heaven is like unto treasure hid in a field; the which when a man hath found, he hideth, and for joy thereof goeth and selleth all that he hath, and buyeth that field.

—St. Matt., xiii. 44.

He that findeth Jesus findeth a good treasure, yea, a Good above all good.

—The Imitation of Christ, ii. 8.

I

How the hermit Macedonius witnessed that it is not strange to do for the sake of possessing the Lord what men do willingly for smaller gains.

A certain captain of soldiers, who took a great delight in hunting, once came in search of wild animals to the desolate mountain where Macedonius dwelt. He was prepared for hunting, having brought with him men and dogs. As he went over the mountain he saw, far off a man. Being surprised that anyone should be in a place so desolate, he asked who it might be. One told him that it was the hermit Macedonius. The captain, who was a pious man, leaped from his horse and ran to meet the hermit. When he came to him he asked, “What are you doing in such a barren place as this is?” The hermit in his turn asked, “And you? What have you come here to do?” The captain answered him, “I have come to hunt.” Then said Macedonius, “I also am a huntsman. I am hunting for my God. I yearn to capture Him. My desire is to enjoy Him. I shall not cease from this my hunting.”

II

A word of St. Basil to one who was unwilling to sell all that he had in order to buy the field wherein the treasure is.

A certain Syncletius, a senator, renounced the world. He divided his property among the poor, but kept back some of it for his own use. To him St. Basil said, “Truly you have spoiled a senator, but you have not made a monk.”

III

A word of the abbot Arsenius, him who left the emperor’s court for the desert, seeking God; and resigned his wealth that he might take the hidden treasure.

“If we seek God, He will appear to us. If we hold Him fast, He will remain with us.”

IV

The word of one who knew how good a thing it is to know of nothing in the world, but to know of Jesus. The abbot Allois said “Except a man say in his heart, ‘I and God are alone in the world,’ he will not find peace.”

V

How the enticements of the world have no power to lure back again the soul that has once possessed Jesus. The abbot John said: “There was an exceedingly beautiful woman who dwelt in a certain city, and she had a multitude of lovers. A great man, one of the nobles of the city, came to her and said, ‘Promise that you will be mine and I will wed you.’ She gladly promised, and being his wife went to dwell with him in his palace. Afterwards her other lovers came seeking her and found her not. When they heard that she had become the nobleman’s wife, they said one to another, ‘If we go up to the door of the palace, it will be plain that we are seeking her, then, without doubt, we shall be punished. Let us go to the back of the house and whistle to her, as we used to do when she was free. When she hears our whistling she will certainly come down to us.’ They did as they had planned, and the woman heard their whistling. Hating greatly even to hear them, she went into the inner parts of the house and shut the door upon herself. Now this woman is the soul of a man. Her husband, the nobleman, is Christ. The palace is the eternal mansion of the heavens. They who whistle for her are the demons.”

VI

A comparison of one who desires to attain the eternal treasure to an archer who turns his eyes away from everything except his mark.

A man will despise all things present as being transitory when he has securely fixed the gaze of his mind on those things which are immovable and eternal. Already he enjoys, in contemplation, the blessedness of his future life. It is as when one desires to strike some mighty prize-the prize is virtue-which is far off on high, and seems but a small mark to shoot at. The archer strains his eyesight while he aims at it, for he knows how great are the glory and rewards which await his hitting it. He turns his eyes away from everything, and will not look save thither where the reward is placed. He knows that he would surely lose the prize if his strained sight were turned away from the mark even a very little.

VII

How a man cannot possess the heavenly treasure and at the same time cling to the pleasures of earth. The abbot Arsenius was once asked by the abbot Mark why he fled from the society of men. He replied, “God knows it is not that I hate men. I love them well. But I cannot dwell both with God and with men. There are multitudes of heavenly beings and many virtues, but all their wills are one, and they come of one will. Among men it is otherwise. Their wills are many, and they pull us different ways. I am in this strait. I cannot leave God, for that is how I think of it, to dwell with men.”

CHAPTER II: ON BEING CRUCIFIED WITH CHRIST IF ANY MAN WILL COME AFTER ME, let him take up his cross, and follow Me.

—St. Matt., xvi 24.

He who enters upon the way of life in fear bears the cross patiently. He who advances in hope bears the cross readily.

He who is perfected in charity embraces the cross ardently.

—St. Bernard, Sermon I. on St. Andrew’s Day.

I have received the cross. I have received it from Thy hand.

I will bear it, and bear it even unto death, as Thou hast laid it upon me.—The Imitation of Christ, iii. 36.

The agony of Christ will last till the end of the world; we must not slumber during this agony.—Pascal.

I

Of what it means to take up the cross with Christ.

Perhaps some man will say, “how can a man carry his cross? How can a man who is alive be crucified? Hear, briefly, how this thing may be. The fear of the Lord is our cross. As, then, one who is crucified no longer has the power of moving or turning his limbs in any direction as he pleases, so we ought to fix our wishes and desires, not in accordance with what is pleasant and delightful to us now, but in accordance with the law of the Lord in whatsoever direction it constrain us. Also, he who is fastened to a cross no longer considers things present, nor thinks about his likings, nor is perplexed with anxiety or care for the morrow, minor is inflamed by any pride, or strife, or rivalry, grieves not at present insults, nor remembers past ones. While he is still breathing in the body, he is dead to all earthly things, and sends his heart on to that place to which he doubts not he shall shortly come. So we, when we are crucified by the fear of the Lord, ought to be dead to all these things. We die not only to carnal vices, but to all earthly things, even to those indifferent. We fix our minds there whither we hope at every moment we are to go.

II

Of one who feared because God took the cross he bore from him.

There was a certain old man who was frequently sick and feeble. One whole year it happened that no sickness of any kind troubled him. He wept on that account, and was sorely afflicted, saying, “Thou hast left me, O Lord, and art unwilling to come to me this year.”

III

Of the hermit Palaemon, how he desired to crucify his body because the Lord was crucified. When the holy time of Easter camne Palaemon said to his disciple St. Pachomius, “Prepare some special food for us today, since this is a feast day for all Christians thoughout the whole world.” Then St. Pachomnius, prompt ever in obedience, did as the old man bade hum. After their prayers were finished Palaemon went to the table to eat. When he saw there oil added to the usual food he burst into tears and smote his hands against his forehead, saying, “My Lord has been crucified, and I-shall I eat oil?”

IV

How the desire of being crucified with Christ will keep a man in the narrow way though he see others departing from it.

A certain elder was once asked, how a monk can avoid being offended and disheartened, when he sees others giving up the hermit life and returning to the world. He replied-”Watch the dogs which hunt hares. One of them only, perhaps, sees the hare and chases it. The others see nothing but the dog in full chase, so they run with him for a while and then grow weary and give up. The one that sees the hare goes on chasing it until he catches it. He takes no heed of the steep hills, nor of the thickets, nor of the brambles in his way. Sometimes his feet are flayed and pricked with thorns, yet he does not rest until he catches it. So it is with the monk who seeks Christ and gazes steadfastly on the cross. He takes no notice of the things which vex and offend him. He cares for nothing but attaining the goal of being crucified with Christ.”

V

Of the narrow way which leadeth unto life.

A certain elder was once asked, “What is this which we read-’Strait and narrow is the way?’” The old man replied, “The narrow way is that on which a man does violence to his own imaginations, and cuts himself off from the fulfilment of his own will. This is the meaning of that which was written of the apostles, ‘Behold we have left all, and followed Thee.’”

CHAPTER III: BEING DEAD TO THE WORLD THE LORD—WHEN THE JEWS SPIT ON HIM AND BUFFETED HIM and smote Him with their hands, when Peter denied Him thrice, when the priests and elders accused Him, when the soldiers mocked Him and scourged Him- answered not. He neither rebuked them, nor defended Himself, nor reviled again, nor cursed those that persecuted Him.

My son, in many things it is thy duty to be ignorant and to esteem thyself as one dead upon the earth, and to whom the whole world is crucified

—The Imitation of Christ, iii. 44.

Thou oughtest to be so dead to such affections of beloved friends, that (so far as thou art concerned) thou wouldst choose to be without all human sympathy.

—The Imitation of Christ, iii. 42.

I

How Zacharias, the disciple of the abbot Moses, showed that the followers of the Lord must accept such treatment as the Master received.

Certain brethren once came to the abbot Moses, and asked him to speak to them some word of exhortation. He turned to his disciple Zacharias and urged him, saying, “Do you speak somewhat to these brethren.” Then Zacharias took off his cloak, and, laying it on the ground, trampled on it. “Behold” he said, “unless a man is thus trampled on he cannot be a monk.”

II

The Abbot Sisois finds the secret of peace in the imitation of the sufferings of Christ.

The abbot Sisois said, “Suffer yourself to be despised. Cast your own will behind your back. Stand free from the cares of the world. Then you will have peace.”

III

The parable which the abbot Anub acted, meaning to teach thereby that the disciple of Jesus must be dead alike to insult and to praise.

Once a tribe of Mazici burst into the Scetic desert, and killed many of the fathers who dwelt there. Seven of the fathers found safety in flight, among whom were the abbot Pimenius, and another older abbot called Anub. These seven came in their flight to Terenuthi. There they found an ancient temple of some heathen god, now deserted by the worshippers. Into it they entered, meaning to dwell together for a week without speaking to each other, while each sought a place where to build his solitary cell, for in the Scetic desert these seven had lived as hermits.

Now, there was in the temple an image of the ancient idol. The, abbot Anub guessed the thought of dwelling together which had entered the minds of the brethren. He therefore, when he rose in the morning, used to cast a stone at. the face of the idol. In the evening he used to speak to it, and say, “I have done wrong. Pardon me.” On the Sabbath day, when the brethren met together, the abbot Pimenius said to him, “How is it that you, a Christian man, have for a whole week been saying to an idol, ‘Pardon me?’” The abbot Anub replied to him, “I did this for your sakes. When I cast stones at the idol, was it angry? Did it speak to rebuke me? When I asked pardon of it, was it pleased? Did it boast?” The abbot Pimenius answered, “Surely no, my brother.” Then said the abbot Anub, “We seven are here together. If we wish to remain thus and yet find profit for our souls, this idol must be our example. When one of us is insulted or vexed by another, he must not get angry. When one of us is asked for pardon by his brother, he must not be puffed up. If we are not willing thus to live together it is better for each of us to depart to whatever place he wishes.” Then all of them fell upon, their faces to the earth, and promised that they would do as he advised.

IV

Dorotheus the Theban, being persuaded that the flesh and the spirit are contrary one to the other, mortified the flesh with his exceeding toil. This he did that he might be partaker of the life which is in Jesus.

All day long, even in the heat of summer, Dorotheus used to collect great stones along the shore of the sea. Though now an old man, he never ceased from the labour of building cells of the stones which he gathered. These cells he gave to hermits who could not build for themselves. Once a certain man asked him, “Why, my father, do you in your old age persist in slaying your body with such toil as this in the intolerable heat?” He answered, saying, “My body is slaying me. I am determined therefore to slay it.”

V

How St. Macarius taught the meaning of the apostle’s words “Dead with Christ,” “Buried with Christ.” A brother once came to the abbot Macarius and said to him, “Master, speak some word of exhortation to me, that, obeying it, I may be saved.” St. Macarius answered him, “Go to the tombs and attack the dead with insults.” The brother wondered at the word. Nevertheless he went, as he was bidden, and cast stones at the tombs, railing upon the dead. Then returning, he told what he had done. Macarius asked him, “Did the dead notice what you did?” And he replied, “They did not notice me.” “Go, then, again,” said Macarius, “and this time praise them.” The brother, wondering yet more, went and praised the dead, calling them just men, apostles, saints. Returning, he told what he had done, saying, “I have praised the dead.” Macarius asked him, “Did they reply to you?” And he said, “They did not reply to me.” Then said Macarius, “You know what insults you have heaped on them and with what praises you have flattered them, and yet they never spoke to you. If you desire salvation, you must be like these dead. You must think nothing of the wrongs men do to you, nor of the praises they offer you. Be like the dead. Thus you may be saved.”

VI

Of bearing with evil men, and how a man may thus be a peacemaker since he will refuse the occasion of strife. A certain hermit saw some men toilsomely bearing a dead body to the burial, and said to them, “You do well that you thus bear the dead. You would do better still to bear with the living. Then you would be makers of peace, and inherit the blessing of the Lord.”

VII

Of two things by which a man is hindered from being truly dead to the world.

The abbot Pimenius said, “That monk may truly reckon himself dead to the world who has learnt to hate two things, ease for his body, and the vainglory which cometh of the praise of men.”

VIII

St. Antony teaches that a monk should be like a rock.

St. Antony spoke to the abbot Ammon saying, “You have still a long way to advance in the fear of the Lord.”

Then leading him forth of the cell he showed him a rock and said to him, “Go, hurt that rock. Beat it unmercifully.” This he did, and St. Antony asked him whether the rock made any answer. He said “No.” Then St. Antony said to him, “You must attain to the position of the rock and not know when anyone is trying to hurt you.”

IX

How the abbot Macarius used to avoid the conversation of those who honoured him, and preferred to talk with men who offered him insults.

When anyone came respectfully to the abbot Macarius, desiring to hear some exhortation from him, he received no answer at all. But if anyone came despising Macarius and did violence to him in such words as these, “Lo you there, father Macarius! You used to be a camel-driver, and steal the matron. How your master used to beat you when he caught you robbing him!” willingly, even joyfully, Macarius used to speak to such a man of whatever he wished to hear.

CHAPTER IV

HOW WE OUGHT TO RETURN GOOD FOR EVIL

Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them which despitefully use you.—St. Matt. v. 44.

“My friend,” said the bishop, “before you go take your candlesticks.”

He went to the mantle-piece, fetched the two candlesticks, and handed them to Jean Valjean. “Now,” said the bishop, “go in peace, Jean Valjean, my brother, you no longer belong to evil, but to good. I have bought your soul of you.”—Victor Hugo, Les Miserables.

I

How an old man blessed one who injured him.

A certain brother came to the cell of an elder, one well known among the brethren for his holiness. Entering in, he stole the food which was there. The old man saw him, but did not accuse him. He only laboured more diligently to supply again what he had lost, saying in his heart, “I am sure that my brother must have been in great need, for else he would not have stolen.” In spite of his toil, the old man came to endure great suffering for want of food. At last he was brought even to the point of death. The brethren, knowing only that he was dying, came and stood round his bed. Among them he saw the brother who had stolen his food. “Come hither to me,” he said to him. Then taking his hands and kissing them, he said to those who stood around, “I pay my thanks to these hands, brethren, for because of them I am going, as I trust, to enter the kingdom of heaven.”

Then that brother was stricken to the heart, and repented. He also in the end became an eager monk, wrought upon by the deeds of the elder which he saw.

II

How the abbot Sisois taught a brother that the desire of vengeance separates a man from God. There was a certain brother who had suffered an injury at the hands of another. Coming to the abbot Sisois, he explained the wrong which he had suffered, and then said, “My father, I desire to be avenged.” The old man begged him to leave his avenging in the hands of God, but he persisted, saying, “I cannot rest until I have well avenged myself.” Then Sisois said to him, “Since your mind is altogether made up with regard to this matter, I need not reason with you. Let us, however, pray together.” Thus saying, he arose and began to pray in these words: “O God, Thou art no longer needful to us. We do not require Thy care of us. We ourselves are willing, yea, and are able to avenge ourselves.” As soon as the brother, who had desired vengeance, heard these words, he fell at the old man’s feet and begged for pardon. “As for him with whom I was angry,” he said, “I shall not in any way contend with him.”

III

A doctrine concerning injuries done to us by which we may escape from the danger of being angry, and even turn such wrongs into a source of profit for our souls.

A certain brother, who had been injured by another, came and told the story of what had happened to one of the elders. This is the reply which the elder made to him: “Set your mind at rest concerning the wrong done to you. The harm was not meant for you, but for your sins. In every temptation to anger or hatred that comes to you through the act of man, accuse not him who does the injury. Say simply, ‘It is on account of my own sins that this, and things like this, happen unto me.’”

IV

Of the one which may be reckoned supreme amongst the commandments of the Lord, both inasmuch as it is beyond all difficult to be kept, and also in that the keeping of it makes us fellow-sufferers with Him.

A certain brother came to an elder seeking some word of exhortation. “Tell me,” he said, “of some one commandment, such that I may keep it, and thereby attain unto salvation.” The old man answered him, “When men do wrong to you and revile you, endure and be silent. To do this is a very great thing. This is above all other commandments.”

V

The abbot Poemen teaches that they who have grace to keep this commandment are very sharers in the death of the Lord upon the cross.

A certain brother once questioned the abbot Poeman, saying, “What is this word which the Lord says in the gospel, ‘Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friend?’ How may one do such a thing?” The old man answered him, “Perhaps a man may hear from his friend some word which insults and angers him. Perhaps it is in his power to speak back to his friend in like manner. If then he chooses to endure in silence-if he does violence to himself, being fully determined to speak no angry word, nor any word to hurt or vex the other-then, verily, this man lays down, in sacrifice, his life for his friend.”

VI

The dealings of St. Antony with certain brethren who wished to be perfect, but sought for some other way than the way which the Lord taught.

Certain brethren once came to Saint Antony and besought him to speak to them some word through which they might attain unto the perfection of salvation. He, however, said to them, “Ye have heard the Scriptures. The words which have come from the lips of Christ for your learning are sufficient for you.” when they still pressed him, begging that he would deign to speak some word to them, he said, “It is taught in the gospel that if a man smite you on the one cheek you are to turn to him the other also.” They then confessed that they were not able to do this. St. Antony answered, “Is this too hard for you? Are you willing to let such a man strike you on the same cheek twice?” They said, “We are not willing,” hoping to be told of some easier thing. But he said to them, If this, too, is beyond you, at least do not render evil for evil.” Again they answered him as they had done before. Then St. Antony turned to his disciple who stood by, and said, “Prepare some food and give it to these men, for they are weak.” But to the brethren who had inquired of him, he said, “If you cannot do one thing and will not do another, why do you come seeking a word of exhortation from me? To me it seems that what you need most is to pray. By prayer perhaps you may be healed of your infirmity.”

VII

A story of St. Macarius, showing how he would not resist one who robbed him.

The abbot Macarius, when he dwelt in Egypt, once had occasion to leave his cell for a little while. At his return he found a robber stealing whatever was in the cell. St. Macarius stood and watched him, as one who was a stranger might watch having no interest in what was stolen. Then he loaded the robber’s horse for him and led it forth saying, “We brought nothing into this world. The Lord gave and the Lord hath taken away. According to his will so things happen. Blessed be the name of the Lord.”

VIII

How the abbot Anastasius would not resist an evil done to him, and thereby won his brother’s soul. Anastasius had a manuscript written on vellum which was worth a great sum of money, for it contained the whole of the Old and New Testaments. It happened that a certain brother who came to visit him, seeing this manuscript in his cell, coveted it. At his departure he stole it. After a little while Anastasius desired to read something in his manuscript. He searched for it but could not find it. Then he understood that this brother had stolen it. He was unwilling, however, to send after the thief or to ask him to restore the property lest, perhaps, he might add a lie to the sin of his theft. The brother who had committed the theft went straightway to a neighbouring town in order that he might sell the manuscript. When one came to buy it, he named a certain price. Then the buyer said, “Let me have the manuscript that I may find out whether it is worth so much.” Receiving it, he went straightway to the abbot Anastasius, and said to him, “My father, I pray you look at this book, and tell me if it is worth such a price. It is for such a sum that a certain man seeks to sell it to me.” The abbot Anastasius answered him, “It is a good book, and is well worth what you are asked for it.” Then he who was about to buy returned to the seller, and said, “Take the price you name. I have showed the book to the abbot Anastasius, and he told me that it was a good book, and well worth your price.” Then the seller, he who had stolen it, asked, “Did the abbot Anastasius say anything more to you about it?” The other said, “No. I have told you all he said.” Then the thief replied to him, “I have thought again about the matter, and I am not willing to sell the book at all.” This he said, being cut to the heart. He hastened to the cell of the abbot Anastasius, threw himself upon the ground, and with tears of penitence besought the abbot that he would take back the book. But Anastasius refused, saying, “Go! and my peace go with you, brother. Take the book for your own. I give it freely to you.” But he persisted weeping and praying, and he said, Unless you take back the book, father, my soul will never anywhere find peace.” At length he took back his own book. Afterwards that brother remained with the blessed Anastasius, sharing his cell with him until the day of his death.

IX

How, by meeting evil which was done to him, a certain monk was led on to do a deed which grieved him greatly.

There was a certain great hermit who dwelt in the mountain called Athlibeus. It happened that he was attacked by robbers. He at once cried out, and the brethren who dwelt in the neighbouring cells ran to his assistance and captured the robbers. They were sent to the nearest city, and the judge condemned them to be put in prison. Then all those brethren were sad because on their account the robbers had been put in prison. They went to the abbot Poemen and told him all that had happened. He wrote a letter to the hermit, whom the robbers had attacked, in these words: “You have betrayed the robbers to punishment. Remember that was not your first act of betrayal. First you betrayed yourself. Unless you had been betrayed by the evil within into resisting the wrong done to you, you would not have made that second betrayal of which you now repent.”

X

How the injuries done to us by evil men are means whereby we may attain perfection.

There was once a monk who observed this rule of life. The more anyone injured or insulted him, the more eagerly he sought that man’s company. This he did because, as he was wont to say, “Those whose company I seek are they who afford me the opportunity of perfection. They who speak well of us and bless us set our paths about with stumbling-blocks. It is they who deceive us.”

CHAPTER V

ON CHARITY TO SINNERS

Whosoever shall cause one of these little ones which believe on Me to stumble, it is profitable for him that a great millstone should be hanged about his neck, and that he should be sunk in the depth of the sea.—St. Matt. xviii. 6 (R.V.).

Deal not roughly with him that is tempted; but give him comfort, as thou wouldest wish to be done to thyself.

—The Imitation of Christ, i. 13.

I

The example of St. Antony, showing how he valued a sinner who repented.

It happened that a certain brother in the community of the abbot Elias fell into sin. The brethren expelled him from the monastery and he fled to St. Antony who then dwelt on the inner mountain. The saint kept him there some time and then sent him back to the monastery from which he had been cast out. The brethren, when they saw him, immediately drove him forth again. Then, as at first, he fled to St. Antony, and said to him, “My father, they will not receive me.” Then the saint was grieved, and sent to the brethren a message, saying, “A certain vessel suffered shipwreck in the sea, and all her cargo was lost. Yet with great labour the sailors brought the ship herself to land. Do you now wish to push forth into the deep and sink the ship that has been rescued? “The brethren meditated upon the message which the saint sent them. When they understood it they were greatly ashamed, and at once received again the brother. who had sinned.

II

How the abbot Besarion desired to share the reproach of the Lord, of whom they said, “He eateth with publicans and sinners.”

A certain brother had sinned, and the priest ordered him to go out of the church and depart from the company of the brethren. Then the abbot Besarion arose and went out along with him, saying, “I also am a sinner.”

III

How the abbot Pastor wished to deal gently with one of the Lord’s little ones.

A brother came to the abbot Pastor and said, “I am working hard at the tilling of my land, for I desire to make a feast for the brethren.” The abbot Pastor said to him, “Go in peace, my son, you are doing a good work.” Then the brother departed joyfully, and laboured yet more that he might add something to the feast he was preparing. But the abbot Anub, who had heard what was said, rebuked Pastor, saying to him, “Do you not fear God, that you have spoken thus to a brother, telling him to make a feast?” The abbot Pastor, being grieved, was silent. After two days, he sent for the brother to whom he had spoken and, Anub being present, said to him, “What was that which you asked me the other day, for my mind was wandering when I answered you?” The brother replied to him, “I told you about the tilling of my field and the harvest of it, and the feast that I was making.” The abbot Pastor said to him, “I thought you were speaking of your brother who is still in the world. The making of feasts is no work for a monk.” The brother was bitterly grieved when he heard this, and cried out, “I know no other good work to do, neither am I able to do any other; may I not till my farm for the sake of the brethren?” So saying, he departed. Then the abbot Anub was exceedingly sorry, and said, “My father, grant me your pardon.” Pastor said to him, “Behold! I knew from the beginning that the making of feasts was no work for a monk, but according to the capacity of his mind I spoke to him. At least I excited his mind to a work of love. Now he is sad and despairing, and he will make his feast just the same.”

IV

How one, through exceeding great love for his brother, suffered himself to lie, and how the fathers saw that he did well.

Two brethren once went together to a town in order to sell the things that they had made during the previous year. One of them went out to buy certain things that were necessary for them. The other, meanwhile, waited for him in the inn. At instigation of the devil this one fell into sin. When the other returned he said, “Lo, we have obtained what we wanted, let us now return to our cell. But he who had sinned replied, “I cannot return with you.” The other pressed him greatly, saying, “But why can you not return.” Then he confessed, saying, “Because when you were absent I fell into sin, and now it is impossible for me to go back.” Then the other, being very desirous of winning and saving his brother’s soul, said, and confirmed his words with an oath, “I also, while I was away from you, fell just as you did. Nevertheless let us return to our cell and repent. All things are possible with God. It is even possible that He will pardon us if we repent, and not allow us to be tormented in the eternal fires of hell.” Thus these two returned to their cell. They went to the elders who dwelt near them, and casting themselves at their feet, told the story of their temptation and their sin. Whatever the elders bid them do as penance they faithfully performed. The brother who had not sinned did penance for the other’s sin because of the great love that he bare to him. Then the Lord looked down from heaven and beheld this mighty labour of love. After a time the whole matter was revealed by the Lord to the fathers, and they saw the great love of the brother who had not sinned, how he afflicted himself for his brother’s salvation, and how the Lord had granted pardon to the sinner. “This,” they said, “is that which is written. He has laid down his own life for the sake of his brother’s salvation.”

V

The abbot Pastor teaches a certain hermit to think of his own sins and bewail them before judging and condemning a sinning brother.

Once one of the brethren in a congregation fell into sin. Now there happened to be in that district a hermit who was renowned because for a long time he had not left his cell. To him the abbot of the congregation went and told the story of the brother’s fall. The hermit, when he heard it, said, “Expel that man.” So the sinning brother, driven forth from the community, went away to a desolate swamp and lamented. Now it came to pass that certain brethren on their way to the cell of the abbot Pastor heard him weeping in the swamp. They went down and found him altogether overwhelmed with grief. Filled with pity, they asked him to go with them to the cell of the abbot Pastor. He would by no means agree to go, but kept saying, “Let me stay here and die.” When these brethren came to the abbot Pastor, they told him of the man whom they had found weeping in the swamp. He immediately begged them to go back again and say, “The abbot Pastor bids you come to him.” When the poor man heard their words, he arose and went with them. When Pastor saw him with all the marks of his grief upon him, he arose and kissed him. Then bidding him be of good cheer, he set him down to meat. In the meanwhile he sent a brother to the hermit who had condemned the sinner, with this message: “I have heard much of you, and now for a long time have desired to see you. Now, therefore, if it be the will of God and convenient to you, I beseech you to put yourself to the toil of coming hither.’ When the hermit heard these words, he said within himself, “No doubt God has revealed to him the kind of man I am, and therefore he has sent for me.” Then rising up, he went to the cell of the abbot Pastor. When they had greeted each other and sat down, the abbot Pastor said, “There were two men who dwelt in one town. In the house of each of them there lay the dead body of a friend. The one of them forgot his own dead friend and the lamentation that was due to him, and leaving him unburied, went to weep at the other’s funeral.” The hermit when he heard these words was cut to the heart. He confessed that he had been angered at the sin of another while he forgot his own sin. Then he said, “Surely Pastor dwells in heavenly places, but I am here below on earth.” How the conviction of his own sinfulness manifests itself in more gentleness towards the sins of others.

The abbot Moses said, “Unless a man is convinced in his own heart that he is a sinner, God does not listen to his prayers.” Then one of the brethren said to him, “What does it mean, this conviction in a man’s heart that he is a sinner?” The old man said to him, “He who is conscious of his own sins has no eyes for the sins of his neighbour.”

VII

The story of a certain brother’s love for a sinner, and how he gained thereby his sister’s soul. A certain brother dwelt in a cell in Egypt who was renowned for his humility. Now he had a sister who was a harlot in the city, and was working the destruction of the souls of many men. Many times the elders exhorted him, and at last hardly persuaded him to go to her if, perhaps, he might persuade her to leave her sinful life. When he came to the town one of the citizens ran before him to the harlot’s house and told her, “Behold, your brother comes to see you.” She then, because she loved him, left her lovers on whom she was attending, and without even covering her head, ran to meet him. He immediately stretched forth his arms to her, and said, “My sister, my dearest sister, have pity on your own soul. Do you not know that through you many are going to perdition? How can you bear this bitter life of yours? How will you bear the torments of eternity?” She trembled exceedingly, and replied to him, “My brother, are you sure that there is salvation for me even now?” He answered her, “If you wish for it there is salvation for you.” Then she fell at his feet, and besought him that he would take her with him into the desert. He said to her, “Go, then, cover your head and follow me.” But she replied, “No. But let us go straightway. It is better that men should see me walking through the streets with my head uncovered than that I should go again into the place where I sinned.” Then they went together, and by the way he taught her the meaning of repentance. At last, as they journeyed, they saw some men coming towards them on the road, and the brother said, “Since these men will not know that you are my sister, I beseech you go aside a little from the road until they pass.” After the men had passed, he called her, saying, “Sister, let us go on upon our way.” When she did not answer him, he went to look for her and found her dead, and lo! her footprints were full of blood, for she had started on their way barefooted.

When the elders heard the story they talked among themselves of whether she was saved. God in the end revealed it to one of them, that inasmuch as she had cared nothing for her body or its pain upon her journey, inasmuch as she had counted her wounds as nothing for the great longing that she had to escape perdition, that therefore, for the sake of her heart’s devotion, God had received her repentance.

VIII

How an old monk was redeemed from his sin by the gentleness and patience of his disciple. There was a certain old monk who was a drunkard. He used to weave a mat every day, sell it in a neighbouring village, and spend the money he got on wine. After a while there came a younger brother, who dwelt with him as a disciple. He also wove one mat every day. The old man used to take his mat, too, and sell it, and spend the price of both on wine. Late in the evening he used to return and bring the disciple a very small piece of bread. Thus three years went by, and the young man spoke no word of complaint. At last he said within himself, “I am nearly naked, for my clothes are worn out. I am half starved for want of food. It is good that I arise and go hence.” Then again he said within himself, “Whither have I to go? Better that I stay here. It was God who set me here. For God’s sake, therefore, I will stay, enduring the life which I live.” Immediately that he had thus resolved an angel of the Lord appeared to him and said, “You need not depart. To-morrow we shall come to you.” Then the brother said to the old man, “Do not leave the cell to-morrow, I beseech you, for some friends of mine are coming to take me away.” The next day, when the hour came at which the old man was wont to go down to the village, he grew impatient, and said to the disciple, “I think your friends will not come today. See how late it is.” But the brother besought him very earnestly to stay saying that his friends most certainly would come. While he was speaking death came to him, and he slept peacefully. Then, when the old man saw that he was dead, he wept bitterly, and cried out, “Alas! alas! for me, my son! These many years I have lived carelessly; but you, in a brief time, have gained salvation for your soul by being patient.” From that day forth the old man was sober, and well reported of for his good life.

IX

How the abbot Macarius by his love won for Christ the soul of a heathen priest.

Once the abbot Macarius took a journey to Mount Nitna, and, as his custom was, sent his disciple to walk some way in front of him. The young man, as he went, met one whom he recognized as the priest of a heathen temple, bearing upon his shoulders a heavy log. At once he cried out against him, saying, “Where are you going, you devil?” The priest, goaded to anger by his words, beat him and left him fainting. Then he went again upon his way. Soon he met the abbot Macarius, who said to him, “Peace be with you, toiler, peace be with you.” The priest replied, “What good do you see in me that you greet me thus?” Macarius said, “I wish you peace because I see you toiling, and because you know not where you go.” Then said the priest, “Your words have touched my heart. You are, indeed, a true servant of God. As for that other wretched monk who met me and insulted me, I replied to his words with blows.” Then, taking hold of the feet of the saint, he said, “ I shall not leave you till you teach me to be a monk.” They walked together to the place where the disciple lay. Together they bore him, for he could not walk, until they brought him to the church. There the brethren were struck with astonishment to see the heathen priest in company with Saint Macarius. Nevertheless, they received him and taught him to be a monk and many of the heathen round about were converted along with him. Often afterwards Macarius used to say to them, “See how haughty words turn even good men into bad, and how true it is that loving, lowly words change bad men into good.”

X

How the abbot Ammon hid a brother’s sin, but warned him of his danger.

Once the abbot Ammon came to a certain place to eat bread with a brother who bore an evil reputation. Now it happened that a woman had gone into this brother’s cell. The inhabitants of the place were aware of it, and gathered together in great wrath to expel that brother from his cell. Hearing that Ammon was present, they asked him to go with them. As soon as the brother saw them coming, he hid the woman whom he had received in a large chest. When the crowd arrived at his cell, the abbot Ammon guessed what he had done, but for God’s sake he concealed it. He entered the cell, sat down on the chest, and then bid them search. When they had looked everywhere and not found the woman, the abbot Ammon said to them, “Where now are your suspicions? God grant you pardon for them.” Then he prayed with them, and bid them depart. After they were all gone, he took the brother by the hand and said, “My brother, beware.” So saying, he departed.

CHAPTER VI: ON HUMILITY THE LORD SAID:—I AM LOWLY IN HEART.—ST. MATT. XI. 29

It is written of Him:—He made Himself of no reputation, and took upon Him the form of a servant.—Phil. ii. 7.

He came lowly, and riding upon an ass.—Zech. ix. 9.

He humbled Himself, even to the death on the cross.—Phil. ii. 8.

Unto the humble He revealeth His secrets, and sweetly draweth nigh and inviteth him unto Himself.

—The Imitation of Christ, ii. 2.

True humility,

The highest virtue, mother of them all.

—Tennyson, Holy Grail.

I

Of the great safety of being humble.

St. Antony tells how once in a vision he beheld all the snares of the evil one spread over the whole earth. When he looked upon them and considered their innumerable multitude, he sighed, and said within himself, “Who is able to pass safely through such a world as this?” Then he heard a voice, which answered him, “The humble man alone can pass safely through, O Antony. In no way can the proud do so.”

II

A story of how a certain one escaped one of the snares of the devil through humility.

The devil once appeared to a certain brother transformed into the likeness of an angel of light. He said, “I am the angel Gabriel, and I am sent unto thee.” The brother, though he doubted not at first but that he saw an angel, yet out of his humility made answer, “Surely you are sent to some other one and not to me, for I am altogether unworthy to have an angel visitor.” Then the devil, being astonished and baffled, departed from him.

III

The humility of the abbot Arsenius who once dwelt in the emperors court.

The abbot Arsenius was one day talking with an ignorant peasant monk about spiritual thought. Another monk saw him doing so, and said to him, “How is it, Arsenius, that you, who know both Latin and Greek, consult this peasant about his thoughts?” Arsenius answered him, “I do, indeed, know Latin and Greek, which contain the wisdom of this world, but I have not yet succeeded in acquiring even the alphabet of what this peasant knows. His wisdom is of another world.”

How a brother once obtained a spiritual benefit as a reward for his humility. It is related of a certain brother that he once persevered in fasting for seventy weeks. This he did desiring to obtain a divine illumination on the meaning of a certain passage in Holy Scripture. Nevertheless, though he so fasted and desired, God hid the matter from him. Then, at last, he said within himself, “See, I have undergone great toil and am nothing profited. I shall go to one of the brethren, and inquire of him what this word of Scripture may mean.” So saying, he went out and closed the door of his cell after him. Immediately then an angel met him and said, “The seventy weeks of your fasting have not brought you near to God that you should know His mind. Now, however you have humbled yourself in going to inquire of your brother. Therefore I am sent to reveal to you what you desire to know.” Then the angel opened to him the matter about which he was perplexed, and departed from him.

V

How a divine and eternal reward awaits those whose humility has taught them to regard their own labour as nothing.

A certain father said, “He who labours and considers that by his labour he has accomplished or effected anything, has already, even here, received the reward of all that he has done.”

VI

The way in which a certain brother learnt and practised humility.

There was a certain brother who belonged to a high family, as this world reckons rank and grandeur. He was the son of a count, and was extremely wealthy; also he had been well educated as a boy. This man fled from his parents and his home, and entered a monastery. In order to prove the humility of his disposition and the ardour of his faith, his superior ordered him to load himself with ten baskets and to carry them for sale through the streets of the city. If anyone should want to buy them all together he was not to permit it, but was to sell them each to a separate purchaser. This condition was attached to his task in order to keep him the longer at work. He performed his task with the utmost zeal. He trampled under foot all shame and confusion for the love of Christ and for His name’s sake. He was not perturbed at all by the novelty of his mean and unaccustomed work. He thought neither of his present indignity nor of the splendour of his birth; he aimed only at gaining through obedience the humility of Christ, which is the true nobility.

VII

Words of the hermits concerning humility.

Evagrius said: “The beginning of salvation is to despise yourself.”

Pastor said: “A man ought to breathe humility as his nostrils breathe the air.”

Another said: “Humility is that holy place in which God bids us make the sacrifice of ourselves.” Syncletica said: “As no ships can be built without nails, so no man can be saved without humility.” Hyperichius said: “The tree of life is on high. Man climbs to it by the ladder of humility.” Another said: “It is better for a man to be conquered by others on account of his humility, than to be victorious over them by means of pride.”

Another said: “May it ever be my part to be taught, and another’s to teach.”

Cassian said: “It is never said of those who are entangled in other sins that they have God resisting them, but only ‘God resisteth the proud.’”

Motois said: “Humility neither is angry nor suffers others to be angry.”

The abbot John the Short said: “The door of God is humility. Our fathers, through the many insults which they suffered, entered the city of God.”

He also said: “Humility and the fear of God are pre-eminent over all virtues.”

VIII

How one yearned for perfection, and God taught him to be humble.

There was a certain old man who dwelt in the desert, and it seemed to him that he had learnt the perfection of all the virtues which he practised. So he prayed to God, saying, “Show me what is yet lacking for the perfection of my soul and I will accomplish it.” Then God, who wished to teach him humility of mind, said to him, “Go to the leader of a certain congregation of monks, and what he bids you, that do.” At the same time God spake to that leader of monks and said, “Behold, the solitary of whom you have heard comes to you. Bid him take a whip and go forth to herd your swine.” The hermit arrived, knocked at the door, and entered. When they had saluted each other and had sat down, the hermit said, “Tell me, what shall I do to be saved.” The other, doubting within himself, replied, “Will you do what I bid you?” The hermit said, “Surely, yes.” Then said the other, “Lo! Take this whip and go forth and herd my swine.” While the hermit drove the swine out to their pasture there came by some men who knew him, and they said, “Do you see that famous hermit of whom we heard so much? He must have gone mad, or some demon possesses him. Look at him feeding swine.” All this the hermit endured patiently. Then God saw that he had learnt humility, and was able to bear the insults of men. Therefore He bid him return to his own place.

IX

How a certain elder shrank from being praised, and rejoiced when he was despised.

A certain old man dwelt in the lower part of the desert, at peace, in a cave. A religious man from a neighbouring village used to bring him what he wanted. It happened that this man’s son fell sick. With many prayers he besought the old man to come to his house and pray for the child. At length he prevailed with him, and running home, cried out, “Prepare for the coming of the hermit.” When the people of the village knew that he was coming they went out with torches to welcome him as if he had been some prince or governor. The hermit, as soon as he perceived how they meant to greet him, stood upon the river-bank, and taking off his clothes, went naked into the water. When the man who was accustomed to minister to him saw this he was greatly ashamed, and said to the villagers, “Return to your homes, for our hermit has lost his senses.” Then going to the old man, he said, “My father, why have you done this? All those who saw you are saying, ‘That old man is nothing better than a fool.’” The hermit replied to him, “That is the very thing I wished to hear.”

X

How St. Ammon became a fool for Christ’s sake.

This story is told of the abbot Ammon. Certain men came to him asking him to judge in a contention which they had. He, however, would not, and put them off. Then a woman said to another woman who stood near her, “The old man is silly.” Ammon heard her words, and calling her to him said, “For very many years I have toiled in various solitary places to attain that silliness at which you scoff. Is it likely now that I shall be content to lose it because you taunt me.

XI

The abbot Pastor’s description of humility.

The abbot Pastor was once asked by a monk: “How ought I to conduct myself in the place where I dwell?” He answered, “Be cautious as a stranger among strangers. Wherever you are, never seek to have your own opinion prevail or your word influential. So you may have peace.

XII

How the devil was vanquished by the great humility of one of the brethren.

There were two brethren, relatives according to the flesh, and bound to each other yet more closely by the spiritual purpose of their devotion. Against them the devil laid a plot that he might separate them the one from the other. Once, towards evening, the younger of the two, as he was wont, lit their lamp and put it on its stand. Through the malice of the devil the stand was overturned, and the lamp went out. By this means the devil hoped wickedly to entrap them into a quarrel. The elder of the two, growing suddenly angry, struck the younger fiercely. But the younger fell humbly on the ground and besought, saying, “Sir, be gentle with me, and I will light the lamp again.” Then, because he gave back no angry word, the evil spirit was filled with confusion, and departed from their cell. That same night he told the chief of the devils the story of his failure, saying, “Because of the humility of that brother who fell upon the ground and begged the other’s pardon I was unable to prevail against them. God beheld his humility, and poured His grace upon him. Now, lo! it is I who am tormented, for I have failed to separate these two or make them enemies.”

XIII

Another story of a devil vanquished by humility.

There was a certain hermit renowned among the monks. It happened that there once met him a man possessed by an evil spirit, who struck him violently upon the cheek. The old man straightway turned to him the other cheek, that he might smite him upon it also. The devil was not able to endure the flame of his humility, but immediately departed from him who was possessed.

CHAPTER VII

ON DISCRETION

The light of the body is the eye: if therefore thine eye be single, thy whole body shall be full of light.

But if thine eye be evil, thy whole body shall be full of darkness.—St. Matt. vi. 22, 23. Some persons, inexperienced in the grace of the devout life, have overthrown themselves, because they attempted more than they were able to perform, not weighing the measure of their own weakness, but rather following the desire of their heart than the judgment of their reason.

Better it is to have a small portion of good sense with humility and a slender understanding, than great treasures of knowledge with vain self-complacency.

—The Imitation of Christ, iii. 7.

I

A discourse of St. Antony, wherein is explained the meaning and the value of discretion.

Often men are most strict in fasting and in vigils. Often they nobly withdraw into solitude and aim at depriving themselves of all their goods so that they do not suffer even one day’s supply of food or a single penny to remain to them. Often they fulfil all the duties of kindness with the utmost devotion. Yet even such men are sometimes suddenly deceived. They cannot bring the work they have entered upon to its fitting close, but bring their exalted fervour and noble manner of life to a terrible end. In these men, though the virtues I have mentioned abound in them, yet discretion is wanting, and they are not able to continue unto the end. There is no other reason for their falling away than that they have not obtained discretion, that spiritual wisdom which, passing by excess on either side, teaches a monk to walk always along the royal road. It does not suffer him to be puffed up on the right hand of virtue, that is, from excess of zeal, in foolish presumption, to transgress the bounds of due moderation. Nor does it allow him to become slack and turn away to vices on the left hand, that is, under pretext of duly managing the body, to become lukewarm. For it is discretion which is termed in the gospel the “eye” and “the light of the body” according to the Saviour’s saying, because as it discerns all the thoughts and actions of men it sees and overlooks all things which should be done. But if in any man this be “evil,” that is, not fortified by sound judgment and knowledge, or is deceived by some error or presumption, it will make the whole body “full of darkness.” It will obscure all our mental vision, and our actions will be involved in the darkness of vice and the gloom of unpeacefulness. No one can doubt that when the judgment of our heart goes wrong and is overwhelmed by ignorance, our thoughts and deeds must be involved in the darkness of still greater sins.

II

A story of the abbot John the Short: how he fell into the sin of presumption through lack of discretion, and afterwards was saved.

They tell this story about the abbot John the Short. Once he said to one of the brethren who was his senior, “I wish to be as the angels are, free from all care, doing no work, but ceaselessly praising and praying to God.” Then casting off his raiment, he departed into the wilderness. After a week had passed, he returned to his brother and knocked at the door of his cell. Before he opened to him, the brother asked, “Who art thou?’ John replied, “I am John.” Then the brother answered him and said, “Not so, for John has become an angel, and no longer has intercourse with men.” He, however, continued knocking, and crying out, “Indeed, I am he.” The other, however, would not open the door, but left him suffering there. At last he opened the door and admitted John, saying to him, “If you are a man, need is for you to work that you may live. If you are an angel, why do you seek entrance to my cell?” John then, being truly penitent, replied, “Pardon me, O brother, for I have grievously sinned.”

III

The abbot Evagrius commends discretion in advising that all things be done moderately and at fitting seasons. The abbot Evagrius said: Reading and watching and prayer are good for the slothful spirit and the wandering mind. Fasting and toil and carefulness will tame lust though it burn in us. The singing of psalms, together with patience and tenderness, will conquer wrath and bring peace in troubled times. Yet must all these be practised at due times, and all within the bounds of moderation. For he who exercises himself in these ways inopportunely and excessively may indeed profit for a little while, but after a short time will be harmed, not helped, by them.

IV

How the abbot Lucius rebuked certain brethren who showed that they lacked discretion, and taught them a better way.

Certain brethren once came to the abbot Lucius, and the old man asked them, “What work are you wont to do?” They said, “We do no work, but, according to the saying of the apostle, we pray without ceasing.” Then said the old man, “Do you never eat?” And they replied, “Truly, we do eat.” Then Lucius said, “And who does your praying for you while you eat?” They were silent. Then he asked them “Do you never sleep?” When they confessed that they slept, he asked, “And who does your praying for you while you sleep?” They could find no answer to give to him. Then he said, “I see that you do not perform what you boast. I will show you how to pray without ceasing. Sit working in the morning up to the accustomed hour; weave mats and make baskets. Meanwhile keep praying in these words: ‘Lord, according to thy mercy pardon my offences and do away with my iniquity.’ When you have finished a few baskets sell them for money. Give a portion to the poor, and keep the rest to buy your food. When, then, you eat or sleep, the poor whom you relieve are filling in the gaps in your ceaseless round of prayer.”

V

The abbot Pastor teaches discretion to a brother who repented truly of his sins.

A brother asked the abbot Pastor, “I have committed a great sin. Shall I do penance for three years?” Pastor replied to him, “That is too long.” Then the brother said, “Do you advise one year?” Again Pastor replied, “That is too long.” Those who were standing by asked, “Are forty days sufficient?” Pastor said again, It is too long.” Then he added, “If a man repent with all his heart, and fully determine not to commit again the sin which he deplores, God will receive his repentance though it endure but three days.”

VI

Of a wandering brother who lacked discretion, being puffed up with spiritual pride.

A certain wandering brother came to the monastery of the abbot Silvanus. He saw the brethren working, and rebuked them, saying, “Why do ye labour for the meat which perisheth? Mary chose the good part.” Then said the abbot Silvanus to his disciple Zacharias, “Give this brother a book to read and put him into an empty cell.” At the ninth hour the brother looked out and gazed along the path to see if any man was coming to call him to a meal. After a while he went to Silvanus, and said, “Do not the brethren eat to-day?” The abbot confessed that they had already eaten. Then said the brother, “Why did you not send to call me?” Silvanus answered him, “You are a spiritual man. You have surely no need of such food as we eat. We, indeed, are but carnal; we must eat. We labour, but you have chosen the good part. You read all day, and have no wish to receive carnal food.”

VII

Of discretion in prayer. Certain brethren asked St. Macarius how they ought to pray. He answered them, “There is no need of much speaking in our prayers. Stretch out your hands and say, ‘Lord, have mercy upon me as Thou wilt and as Thou seest best.’ If your mind is disquieted, then say, ‘Help Thou me.’ He knows well what is best for us. Of His own will He grants us mercy.”

VIII

How discretion taught Nathyra to alter his rule of life according to the circumstances amid which he found himself.

The abbot Nathyra, the disciple of Silvanus, when he lived as a hermit in his cell, adopted a very moderate rule of life, allowing himself all that was necessary for the welfare of his body. Afterwards, when he became a bishop, he used a much severer discipline. One of his disciples asked him, saying, “Master, when we dwelt together in the desert you used not thus to crucify yourself; why do you do so now ?” The bishop said to him, “My son, there in the desert we had solitude and quietness and poverty; therefore I so regulated my bodily life that I should not grow weak, but be able to strive for those graces which I desired. Here in the world are many temptations to excess of every kind; moreover, here there are many to warn me should I overtax my strength with fasting. I live austerely here, lest I should let slip the hope of perfection which led me to become a monk.”

IX

The abbot Agathon gave evidence of his discretion by avoiding all extravagance.

The abbot Agathon so managed his life and his affairs that discretion appeared to govern everything he was or did. This was the case not only in great matters, such as the labour which he performed, but even in the details of his dress. Thus he wore such clothes as never could strike anyone as either particularly good or particularly poor.

X

How one was preserved from a snare by discretion. They tell about a certain old man that sometimes in his struggles against temptatations he saw the devils, who surrounded him, with his bodily eyes. Nevertheless, he despised them and their temptations. Seeing that he was being vanquished, the devil came and showed himself to the old man, saying, “I am Christ.” But when the old man beheld him, he shut his eyes. Then the devil said again, “I am Christ; why have you shut your eyes?” The old man answered him, “I neither expect nor wish to behold Christ in this present life. I look to see Him only in the life beyond.” Hearing these words, the devil straightway vanished from his sight.

XI

The story of another who was saved by discretion from an illusion.

There was another old man whom the demons wished to seduce. They said to him, “Do you wish to behold

Christ?” He replied to them, “May you be accursed for the words you speak. I believe my Christ when He says to me, ‘If anyone shall say unto you, Lo, here is Christ or lo there, believe him not.’” When they heard him answer them thus the devils immediately vanished.

XII A WAY IN WHICH A MAN MAY ORDER HIS LIFE WISELY

A certain brother asked the abbot Antony, “What shall I do that I may please God?” The old man replied, “Keep these commandments which I give you. Wherever you go, have God always before your eyes. Whatever work you do, set before yourself an example from the Holy Scriptures. Wherever you dwell, be not hasty in removing thence. Stay patiently in the same place. If you guard these three precepts without doubt you will be saved.”

CHAPTER VIII

ON THE NECESSITY FOR STRIVING

The kingdom of heaven suffereth violence, and men of violence take it by force.—St. Matt. xi. 12 (R.V.).

Be thou therefore ready for the conflict, if thou wilt have the victory. Without a combat thou canst not attain unto the crown of patience. Without labour there is no arriving at rest; nor without fighting can the victory be attained.

—The Imitation of Christ, iii. 19.

I

How the abbot John learnt the lesson that inward strife is better than inward peace.

The abbot Pastor relates of John the Short that he once prayed, asking God to take away from him all passion.

God granted his prayer; and he, being free from envy, anger, and all evil thoughts, was at peace. In his great gladness he went to a certain elder, and said to him, “Behold in me a man who has no strife nor contests. I am altogether at peace.” But the old man, being grieved for John’s sake, replied to him, “My son, go, ask the Lord to grant you occasion for strife. There is no way in which the soul advances towards God but by striving.” Then John, knowing in himself that this was true, did as the old man bade him. Afterwards, when the necessity for constant strife came back upon him, he never again prayed that it should be taken away from him. Always be made this petition “Lord, give me grace to conquer in the strife.”

II

A story setting forth how toil in itself is for the soul of him who desires to enjoy the kingdom of God. There was a certain old man dwelling in the desert whose cell was above two miles distant from any water.

Often when he went to draw water, and the sun shone hot on him, he grew weary. Once, as he went, he said to himself, “There is no need for me to endure all this labour. I shall go and dwell nearer to the water.” As he so spake he turned and saw one following him who seemed to mark his footsteps. The old man asked him, “Who are you?” The stranger answered, “I am an angel, and the Lord sent me to count your footsteps and give you your reward.” When the old man heard this he remembered that he had not come out into the desert for the sake of ease, but to travel on the narrow way that leadeth unto life. Then he became yet bolder in heart and more violent, and set his cell even further from the water.

III

The abbot Pastor’s strange interpretation of a saying of the Lord.

The abbot Pastor said, “It is written in the gospel, He who has a coat, let him sell it and buy a sword. This word is to be understood by us in this manner: He who has peace let him cast it away, and in its place take unto himself strife. Now our strife is against the devil.”

IV

A saying of the abbot Serenus showing that the strife is severest for those who are furthest advanced towards the kingdom of heaven.

We know well by our own experience and the testimony of the Fathers that devils have not the same power against us which they had formerly in the days of the first anchorites, when there were only a few monks living in the desert. This is because of our carelessness which makes them relax somewhat of the violence of their first onslaught. They scorn to attack us with the same energy with which they formerly raged against those most admirable servants of Christ.

V

A parable of the abbot Achilles, showing how our strife is not only against the powers of evil which are without, but also, even chiefly, against the evil that is within.

A certain brother said to the abbot Achilles, “How is it that the demons have power against us?” The old man answered him thus: “The trees of Lebanon said, ‘How great we are and high! Yet we are cut down with a very small axe. Yes, and of the axe which cuts us down the greater part is wood, and comes from us. Let us therefore give no part of ourselves, and the axe will have no power against us.’ Soon there came some men seeking timber, and they made a handle for their axe out of these very trees in spite of their boasting. So the trees were cut down. Now the trees are the souls of men. The handle of the axe is man’s evil will. So we are cut down by means of the evil that is within us.”

VI

Of one who, as a good soldier of Jesus Christ, did not shrink from the conflict.

The disciple of a certain holy old man was once attacked by a spirit which tempted him. By the grace of God he fought valiantly against the vile and impure thoughts of his heart. He used the discipline of fasting. He prayed often. He worked diligently and vehemently with his hands. The holy old man beholding his labour and strife, said to him, “If you wish it, my son, I will pray to the Lord and ask Him to remove this adversary away from you.” The disciple, however, replied to him, saying, “I perceive, my father, that although I am enduring what is hard, yet good fruit is being perfected in me. By reason of the temptation which besets me I fast more than if I were at peace. I am more steadfast in waiting. I am, as I think, more earnest in prayer. I beseech you, nevertheless, that you pray for me and seek the mercy of God for me. Ask that I may be given valour to endure and to fight according to God’s will.” Then the old man was filled with joy, and said, “Lo! now I know, my son that you understand this spiritual conflict, how it works in you for the perfecting of your eternal salvation.”

VII

Why no man may dare to think within himself ‘I have conquered, and need strive no more.’ A certain old man came to another and said, “I, indeed, am already dead unto the world.” But the other, seeing the danger in which he was, thus warned him, “Be not ever sure of yourself while you remain in the body. Although perhaps you may say, ‘I am dead unto the world,’ yet there is one who is by no means dead to you even your adversary the devil. Surely innumerable are his evil ways, and immeasurable is his craftiness.”

VIII

Of toil and peace.

Isidore, a priest in Scete, said once to the brethren who were gathered round him, “Brethren, was it not in search of toil and hardship that we came hither? Behold, I find here no sufficient toil. I shall therefore gird myself, and go elsewhere and find toil. Then I shall also find peace.”

IX

How toil and patience are the means of spiritual gain.

A certain elder said, “We often fail to advance because we know not the conditions of our strife, nor have we patience to complete the work we have begun. No virtue can be attained without toil.”

X

How no man must cease from striving until he has attained perfection or ceased to wish for it. A certain brother used often to go to the abbot Sisois and ask advice from him, saying, “My father, what shall I do, for I have fallen into sin?” Sisois replied, “Rise out of your sin.” Again the brother came with his confession, saying, “I have fallen into sin again.” The old man said to him, “Then again you must rise from your sin.” Very often the brother came to him, saying, “I rose again, indeed, but again and again I have fallen.” Still Sisois gave him the same advice, “You must not cease to rise from your sin again and again.” At last the brother said to him, “My father, how long shall I go on rising again from my sin? Tell me this.” The old man said to him, “Until you are at rest in the perfect performance of what is good, or have found quietness in complete bondage of evil.”

XI

We must not think that even repeated victory over any fault frees us from the necessity for strife against it. There was a certain old man who dwelt for fifty years in the desert. He neither tasted bread. nor even drank enough water to satisfy his thirst. At last he said, “I think I have conquered utterly-yea, slain-the sins of avarice and vainglory.” When the abbot Abraham heard that he had spoken these words, he came to him and asked if it was true that he had so spoken. He confessed that it was true. Then Abraham said to him, “Suppose, now, that you were walking along the road and you saw a pile of stones and broken bricks, and suppose that you saw in the midst of them a lump of gold, are you able to look upon it just as you look upon the stones and bricks?” The old hermit answered, “No. I should feel that it was precious, but I should fight against the thought.” Then said the abbot Abraham, “See, therefore. Avarice still lives in you, but you have fettered it.” Again the abbot Abraham spoke to him, “Here is a man who loves you well and praises you. Here is another who hates you, and is for ever slandering you. If both of them come to you, can you look upon both of them with the same affection?” The old hermit answered him, “No. I cannot do this at once, but I should struggle with myself until I felt that I loved him whom at first I did not love.” Then Abraham said, “See, now; your passions are yet alive in you, but they are bound with holy bands.”

XII HOW WE MUST EVER BE READY TO DO VIOLENCE TO OURSELVES

A certain elder was once asked, “What is the meaning of this which is written: ‘Strait is the gate and narrow is the way which leadeth unto life’?” He answered, “The strait and narrow way is this: that a man do violence to his thoughts and destroy his own will for God’s sake. This is what we are told the apostles of whom it is written: ‘Lo, we have left all and followed Thee.’”

XIII

How in this life it is only possible to escape from strife by yielding entirely to all temptation. A certain brother said to one of the elders, “In my life there is no strife. My soul is at peace.” The elder said to him, “If that be so, you are like a wide-opened door. Whatever likes can enter into you, whatever likes can go out. You know not what is happening in your heart. For if you hold your heart’s door fast, and keep it shut so that you refuse entrance to all evil thoughts, then you will see them standing without and feel that they are fighting against you.

XIV

How the life of a monk is a life of ceaseless strife.

The abbot Macarius once said to the abbot Zacharias, “Teach me wherein a monk’s life consists.” Zacharias replied, “Do you, my father, ask this question of me?” “I am fully determined to ask you,” said Macarius, “for there is One who is spurring me on to do so.” Then Zacharias said to him, “In my opinion, my father, he is truly a monk who in all things does violence to himself.”

CHAPTER IX: ON FASTING AND WHEN HE HAD FASTED FORTY DAYS AND FORTY NIGHTS, HE WAS AFTERWARD MUCH HUNGERED.—ST. MATT. IV. 2

It is possible to be saved without virginity.

It is not possible to be saved without humility. Without humility (I dare even to say this) even the virginity of Mary would not have pleased God.

—St. Bernard, 1st Homily in praise of the Virgin Mother.

Sackcloth is a girdle good,

Oh, bind it round thee still.

Fasting, it is angels’ food,

And Jesus loved the night air chill; Yet think not prayer and fast were given To make one step ‘twixt earth and heaven.

—Lyra Apostolica, xxxvi.

I

How the spirit of love may loose the obligation of a fast, and yet where love makes no call on us the days of fasting ought to be observed.

The abbot Silvanus came one day with his disciple Zacharias to a certain monastery. The brethren who dwelt there besought them to eat something before they departed. They willingly received the food placed before them, lest they should grieve the brethren who offered it. Afterwards they departed. As they journeyed they came to a pool of water, and Zacharias wished to drink of it. Silvanus rebuked him, saying, “This is a fast day. You ought not to drink.” He replied, “But, my father, have we not already eaten and broken our fast?” “My son,” said Silvanus, “that eating was for the sake of the brethren, because we loved them. Now let us keep our fast.”

II

How it is better not to fast than to boast about our fasting-as the Lord saith, “When ye fast, appear not unto men to fast.”

There was an assembly of monks in a certain church on a feast day. As the custom was, after the sacrifice had been offered among them, the brethren dined together. One of them said to the disciple who set food before him, “I will not eat this. I eat no cooked food.” This he said boasting of his own abstinence. Then said the blessed Theodorus, “It would be better for you, brother, to be eating flesh in your own cell, than that such a word should be heard among the brethren.”

III

How humility is to be preferred before fasting.

A certain anchorite dwelt in a cave not far from a monastery, and led a life of great privation. Once some brethren came from the monastery to visit him. As the custom was, he set food before them to refresh them after their journey. The brethren compelled the old man to eat with them, saying that they would not eat without his company. Afterwards, when they thought upon what they had done, they said to him,” We fear that you are grieved, father, because today for our sakes you have eaten more than you are wont.” But he replied, “Brethren, I am not troubled in this matter. I am only grieved when I have acted according to my own will.”

IV

How charity is to be preferred to fasting.

Epiphanius, the Bishop of Cyprus, once sent a message to the holy Hilarion, saying, “Come hither, that we may see each other and converse together before we depart from the body.” Hilarion came, and the two old men sat down to eat together. There was set before them the flesh of some birds. Of this the Bishop partook, but Hilarion refused it, saying, “Pardon me, but since I became a monk I have never eaten anything that had life.” At these words the Bishop was grieved, and replied, “Since I became a monk I have tried never to allow anyone to sleep until I had removed any cause of complaint he had against me, nor myself to go to sleep while I was vexed with anyone.” “My father,” said Hilarion, “I pray you pardon me. Your way of life is far more excellent than mine.”

V

The saying of an unknown monk, teaching the same thing.

It is better to eat meat and to drink wine than to feed upon the flesh of your brother by envying him.

VI

The teaching of St. Antony, that wisdom is to be preferred to fasting.

There are some who keep under their bodies by fasting, and yet are far from God because they lack discretion.

VII

The teaching of the abbot Moses on fasting as an aid to perfection.

Fastings, vigils, meditations on the Scriptures, self-denial, and the abnegation of all possessions are not perfection in themselves, but aids to perfection. The end of the science of holiness does not lie in these practices, but by means of them we arrive at the end. He will practice these exercises to no purpose who is contented with these as if they were the highest good. A man must not fix his heart simply on these, but must extend his efforts towards the attainment of his end. It is for the sake of the end that these things should be cultivated. It is a vain thing for a man to possess the implements of an art and to be ignorant of its purpose, for in it is all that is of any value.

VIII

The teaching of the abbot Theonas about the occasions on which men ought not to fast.

If at the coming of a brother, in whose person a man ought to refresh Christ with courtesy and embrace Him with a kindly welcome, he should choose to observe a strict fast, would he not be guilty of churlishness rather than be deserving of praise for devoutness? If, when the failure or weakness of the flesh requires the strength to be restored by partaking of food, a man will not consent to relax the rigour of his fasting, is he not to be regarded as a cruel murderer of his own body rather than as one who is careful for his own salvation? So, too, when a festival season permits a suitable indulgence in food and a liberal repast, if a man will resolutely cling to the strict observance of his fast he must be considered as not religious, but rather boorish and unreasonable.

IX

How spiritual thoughts put to silence the demands of the body.

Once there came a hermit to the cell of an elder to talk with him. The elder said to his disciple, “Prepare some vegetables for us, and moisten some bread.” The disciple did so. But the two old men remained in spiritual converse till the sixth hour of the next day. Then said the host again to his disciple, “Prepare some food for us.” The disciple answered him, “My father, I prepared it yesterday.” Then the two old men rose up and ate together.

X

Of a certain brother who conquered his body lest he should grieve another.

One of the elders was sick, and for many days could not eat. At last his disciple asked to be allowed to prepare a special dish that he might relish. Now there was in the cell a jar in which there was a little honey. Beside it there hung another containing oil, and that rancid, for the lamp. The disciple by mistake poured the oil and not the honey on the dish he had prepared. The old man, when he had tasted it, said not a word but silently swallowed a mouthful. The disciple then constrained him to eat some more. With difficulty he did so. Again the disciple pressed him to take of it a third time. But the old man replied, “In truth, I cannot eat again, my son.” The disciple still pressed him, saying, “It is very good. See, I will eat with you.” When he tasted the dish, and knew what he had done, he fell upon his face and said, “Alas, my father, I have poisoned you. Why did you not speak?” Then the old man said, “Be not grieved, my son. If it had been God’s will for me to eat honey then you would have put honey in your dish.”

XI

The use of fasting, and how it helps the life of the soul.

Fasting is the bridle in the mouth of the monk. It holds him back from sin. He who rejects the practice of fasting is like an unbridled, fiery horse. He is swept away by passion.

XII

The conduct of the abbot Moses, and how the brethren recognised that charity is above rubrics. Once a rule was made in the Scetic desert that the monks should fast during the week of the Passover. It happened, however, that certain brethren from Egypt came to visit the abbot Moses during that very week, and he prepared some food for them. Some of the neighbouring monks saw the smoke of his fire rising from Moses’ cell, and they said to the clergy of the church which was there, “Lo! Moses has broken our rule and cooked some food.” Then the clergy replied, “When he comes we will speak to him about the matter.” On the Sabbath, when the abbot Moses came with the strangers to the church, the clergy understood his conduct, and cried out in the presence of the assembled brethren, “Oh, abbot Moses, you have indeed broken a commandment of men, but you have bravely kept the commandments of God.”

XIII

A rule of life.

A certain brother once visited a hermit, and was entertained by him. He feared lest his entertainment had interfered with the severity of the hermit’s living, and when he was departing he said, “My father, pardon me if I have hindered the observance of your rule of life.” The hermit answered him, “My rule of life is to receive you with hospitality, and let you depart in peace.”

XIV

How a man may break his fast through love, and another who keeps his fast may yet be yielding to a base kind of self-indulgence.

Once there were some brethren who, for the love they bore their guests, ate with them, though it was a season of fasting. There was another brother who scorned them as they sat at meat. When the abbot John beheld him he wept, saying, “What kind of spirit has this man in his heart that he laughs at the brethren, scorning them? He ought rather to be weeping for himself. It is he who breaks his fast, not they. It is he who is eating. He devours charity.”

XV

It is better not to fast than to be praised for fasting.

In a certain region there was a man who fasted much, so that the name of Faster was given to him. Hearing this the abbot Zeno sent for him. He came joyfully. After praying together they sat down, and the abbot Zeno began to work in silence. Having no chance of speaking, the Faster was attacked by a restless spirit of accidie. At last he said, “Pray for me, my father, for I am going away.” “Why are you going?” asked the old man. “Because,” said the other, “my heart is as if it were on fire, and I know not what is the matter. When I was at home I used to fast until the evening time, and no such thing happened to me.” Then said the old man, “At home you were fed through your ears by men’s praises. Now, go away. Eat at the ninth hour, and if you do anything, do it secretly.” In following this advice he found that he came to look forward eagerly to the ninth hour. Those who knew him began to say of him, “The Faster has fallen under the power of some devil.” He then came and told all this to the abbot Zeno, who said to him, “This way and this leading is according to God’s will.”

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The Wisdom of The Desert: Part 2

JAMES O. HANNAY

INDEX

CHAPTER X

ON POVERTY

If thou wilt be perfect, go and sell that thou hast, and give to the poor . . . and come and follow Me.

—St. Matt. xix. 21.

Sell that ye have, and give alms; provide yourselves bags which wax not old, a treasure in the heavens that faileth not, where no thief approacheth, neither moth corrupteth.

—St. Luke xii. 33.

If thou wilt enter into life, keep the commandments. If thou wilt know the truth, believe Me.

If thou wilt be perfect, sell all.

If thou wilt be My disciple, deny thyself utterly. If thou wilt possess a blessed life, despise this life present.

—The Imitation of Christ, iii. 56.

Keep this short and perfect word: Let go all, and thou shalt find all; leave desire, and thou shalt find rest.

—The Imitation of Christ, iii. 32.

VOLUNTARY poverty is half-way between the kind of asceticism which we have called physical and that which may properly be described as spiritual. On the one hand, it is clear that poverty like that of the hermits deprives a man not only of all the luxuries of life, but of what are generally regarded as its necessary comforts. On the other hand, the sin which stood in direct antithesis to their conception of poverty was covetousness; and this is a sin of the soul, not of the body.

The absolute renunciation of all property was the initial act of the hermit’s entrance upon his new life. From the point of view of the fathers of monasticism, the necessity for this renunciation was obvious. Every possession was a tie to the world, and the great object was to get free of the world, to stand clear of its ambitions, its pleasures, and its cares. A man who possesses property, even if he is content to forego the possibility of increasing it, must yet take care to preserve it. He must dedicate some portion of his time, his ability, and his energy to the getting or the management of his income. All such care and expenditure of strength was, from the hermits’ point of view, a service of mammon, and they remembered the Lord’s words-”Ye cannot serve God and mammon.” There was no point, therefore, of their life on which the hermits insisted more vigorously than the completeness of the original renunciation. What the postulant ought to do with his money was not definitely settled. Sometimes it was given to his relatives, sometimes it was handed over to the clergy for the use of the church. Oftenest, perhaps, in strict obedience to the Lord’s command, it was given to the poor. Whatever the destiny of the money might be, it was essential for the hermit to get rid of it entirely. No half measures were tolerated. The parable which St. Antony made the young monk act, who wanted to keep something for himself, is almost savage in the intensity of its insistence on absolute renunciation. The personal possessions which a monk might retain were not, any more than the manner of his fasting, settled by definite rule. That their theory of poverty was spiritual, as opposed to mechanical, may be seen in the saying which described true poverty as the possession of nothing which it would cost a pang to give away. He who lives in such poverty as this places no obstacle in the way of his fulfilment of the Lord’s words-” Give to him that asketh thee.” How complete the renunciation occasionally became may be seen in a fine story of Besarion. He owned nothing in the world but a cloak, an undergarment, and a copy of the gospels. Once, as he went upon a journey, he threw his cloak over a dead body which lay exposed on the roadside. Further on his way he gave his other garment to a naked beggar. Then, moved by the recollection of the Lord’s words, he sold his copy of the gospels and gave the proceeds to the poor.

Even, however, when the initial act of renunciation was as complete as possible, there still remained for the hermit the possibility of being ensnared by covetousness or entangled in worldly cares. It must not be forgotten that the hermits were diligent workers. They preferred such kinds of work as could be done in or near their cells. They wove mats and baskets, or cultivated little gardens; the fruits of their labour they sold, sometimes carrying them to neighbouring villages, sometimes sending them in boat-loads down the Nile to the great cities. At harvest-time they frequently hired themselves out as labourers. The money thus earned they used first for the supply of the few necessities of their own lives, and what remained for the relief of the poor. The marketing of their goods was, as may readily be supposed, a distasteful task. Haggling and bargaining involved them in what must always be a degrading struggle. Some of them simply named a price for their goods, and then, if they were offered less, took it without protest. Others declined even to name a price. They exposed their wares in the market-place, and took the price offered by the first buyer who approached them.

Even, however, when their traffic was regulated by these principles, there remained a possibility of covetousness. There are grievous stories of men who hoarded little stores of money. Sometimes the motive seems to have been mere desire of possession. Sometimes it was, at first at all events, a less unworthy one. It was in order to make some provision for future sickness that the brother, whom the angel healed, began to lay by some portion of his earnings. All such saving was regarded as displaying, at the least, a lamentable want of faith. The ideal of the hermits was a perfect trust in Him who feeds the ravens and clothes the lilies of the field. To save and make provision for the future was to call down the Lord’s rebuke-”Oh, ye of little faith.”

I

How a certain brother understood the words of the Lord very literally.

A certain old man was once asked by one of the brethren what a monk ought to do to be saved. The old man took his raiment and stripped it off. Then, stretching forth his hands, he said, “Thus ought a monk to be naked of all that belongs to this world. Thus also should he stretch himself out in crucifixion, that he may come out conqueror from the temptations and struggles of this world.”

II

The advice of St. Antony to a disciple who desired to be a monk, and yet was unwilling to give away all that he had.

A certain brother renounced the world, and gave what he possessed to the poor. Yet, because he was fearful of heart, and had little faith, he retained somewhat in his own power. This man paid a visit to St. Antony. When the saint perceived how the case was with him, he said to him, “Go thou to yonder village. There buy meat, and bind it with cords round thy naked limbs. Then return to me.” The disciple did so, and lo! as he was returning to the saint the dogs from the village and afterwards the birds of the air, tore his limbs, grasping at the meat bound to them. On his return, the saint asked him how he had fared, he replied by displaying his wounds and blood. Then said St. Antony, “They who renounce the world, and yet desire to possess money, lo! like dogs and birds, the demons strive with them and tear them.”

III

Of the measure of renunciation, and when it may be regarded as complete.

An old man said, “Own nothing which it would grieve you to give to another, nothing which would lead you to transgress the commandment of the Lord-’Give to him that asketh you.’”

IV

The word of Serapion to a monk who owned what he was unwilling to part with.

A brother asked the abbot Serapion to speak some word of exhortation to him. Serapion said, “What can I say to you, seeing that you have taken the property of the widow and the orphan and put it on the window-sill of your cell?” He said this, having seen that this brother had many books which he kept in his window.

V

How the same Serapion who spoke thus had himself made a perfect renunciation.

One of the monks, a certain Serapion, possessed a copy of the gospels. This he sold, and gave the price of it to the poor and hungry. Then he went home rejoicing, saying to himself, “Lo! now I have sold even that very book which was for ever saying to me, ‘Sell all that thou hast and give to the poor.’”

VI

A description of the sin of covetousness, through which men fail in making their renunciation perfect. We must not only guard against the possession of money, but also expel from our souls the desire of possessing it. For it is necessary not so much to avoid the results of covetousness, as to cut off by the roots all disposition towards it. It will do no real good not to possess money, if there exists in us the desire of getting it.

VI

The story of a monk who fell before a very subtle temptation, but in the end was saved. The elders relate a story of a certain monk who was a skilful gardener. He laboured diligently, and all that he earned he gave to the poor after he had supplied his own necessities. After a while Satan found entrance into his heart, and said to him, “Keep something of what you earn for yourself. Some day you will be old or fall sick, and then you will have need of what you can save now.” It seemed wise to the monk to do this, and he saved until he had filled a large pitcher with coins. It happened that he fell sick, and an abscess gathered on his foot. He expended all that he had saved on doctors, neither was made any better. At last one of the most skilful doctors said to him, “Unless your foot is cut off you cannot recover. And they fixed a day for the amputation of his foot. That night he came again to his right mind, and wept bitterly for what he had done, being truly repentant. Then, groaning frequently, he prayed, and said, “Be mindful, O Lord, of the work which once I did, how I laboured in my garden and gave the reward of my labour to the poor.” When he had so prayed, behold an angel of the Lord stood by him and spoke to him, saying, “Where is now the money you saved? Where is the hope with which you saved it?” He, understanding well what the angel said, replied, “I have sinned! O Lord, pardon me. Henceforth I will do no such things as these for which you reproach me.” Then the angel touched his foot, and immediately it was healed. In the morning he arose and went forth to labour in his garden.

VIII

How all we give, we give to God, and not to men.

Melania relates that she brought three hundred pounds of silver to the abbot Pambo, and asked him to accept the gift for the use of the monks who were in need. He said to her, “May God give you your reward.” Then, turning to his servant Theodore, he said, “Take this money and distribute it among the brethren who dwell in Libya and in the islands, for the monasteries there are very poor.” Melania, in the meanwhile, stood waiting for his benediction, and expected that he would speak some word of praise to her for the greatness of her gift. At length, when he remained silent, she said, “Master, do you know how much I have given? There are three hundred pounds of silver.” But Pambo took no notice of her, and did not even glance at the boxes of money. At length he replied, “He to whom you make this gift, my daughter, does not need that you should tell Him how much it is. If you were giving this money to me, you would be right to tell me the sum of it. Since, however, you are giving this money to God, who did not despise even the two mites, but valued them above all other gifts, you may well be silent about the amount of it.”

IX

How a hermit refused to receive a gift of money, even for the use of the poor.

A certain man asked a hermit to receive a gift of money for his own use. He refused, saying that the earnings of his labour sufficed him. The other, however, besought him to take the money and use it for the poor, if not for himself. The hermit replied, “So I should run a double risk. I should take what I do not want. I should distribute what another gave, and be praised.”

X

You cannot serve God and Mammon.

A certain brother once came to an elder, and said, “My father, of your kindness tell me, I beseech you, what I ought to strive for in my youth, that I may own something in my old age.” The old man replied to him, “You may either gain Christ or gain money. It is for you to choose whether you will have for your God the Lord or mammon.”

XI

The story of three monks who were not greedy for money.

Once three brothers hired themselves out as harvest labourers, and agreed together to reap a certain field.

On the very first day of their labour one of them fell sick and returned to his cell. The other two remained, and one of them said to the other, “You see how a sickness has fallen upon our brother so that he cannot work. Do you therefore do violence to yourself, and I shall do likewise. We shall put our trust in God. Our brother who is sick will pray for us. It may be that we shall be enabled to do double work and reap his part of the field as well as our own.” They did as they had hoped, and reaped the whole field which they had undertaken. On their way to receive their wages they called the brother who was sick, saying, “Come, brother, and receive your pay.” But he said, “What pay shall I take, seeing I did not reap.” They replied, “It was through your prayers that the reaping was accomplished. Come, therefore, as we say, and get your wages.” Then there was strife between them, for he kept saying, “I will take no pay, for I have done no work”; and they refused to take any wages at all unless he got his share. At last they referred the matter to the judgment of a certain renowned elder. The brother who had been sick told his story first: “We three went to reap a certain field for hire. When we came to the place where we were to work, on the very first day I fell sick. I returned to my cell, and from that time on I did no work at all. Now these brethren come to me insisting and saying, ‘Brother, come, take pay for work you did not do!’” Then the other two brethren spoke and said, “We did, as he says, go to work, and did undertake to reap a certain field. It was such a field that if we had all three been there we could hardly by great toil have fulfilled our task. Yet through the power of this brother’s prayers we two were able to reap the whole field more quickly than the three of us expected to do it. Now when we say to him, ‘Come and receive your hire,’ he will not do so.” When the old man who judged between them heard their stories, he marvelled greatly. Then he said, “Give the signal for the brothers to assemble.” When they were gathered together he said, “Listen, brethren, to the righteous judgment which I give.” Then he told them the whole story, and gave his decision that the brother who had been sick should receive for his own the share of the pay which ought to have been his. That brother, however, departed sorrowful, like one to whom an injury is done.

CHAPTER XI: ON OBEDIENCE I CAME NOT TO DO MINE OWN WILL

—St. John vi. 38.

Be desirous, my son, to do the will of another rather than thine own.

—Imitation of Christ, iii. 23.

Thirty years of Our Lord’s life are hidden in these words, “He was subject unto them.”

—Bossuet.

OBEDIENCE is the sacrifice of self-will. It may consist passively in a man’s refusing to insist on acting in accordance with his own conception of what is pleasant, or his conviction of what is expedient or right. It may involve an act or a course of action directly opposed to such convictions. The Egyptian hermits recognised unquestioning obedience as a great virtue. The language in which they praise it is fervid. Its place in the hierarchy of virtues is supreme. The examples which are quoted for imitation show that no idea of compromise was to be entertained. It is apparent at once that the general conscience of mankind endorses under certain circumstances all that the hermits taught about obedience. The citizen of a state must submit to the will of the power that governs. The soldier must obey promptly and unquestioningly the orders of his officer. The sailor has no right of self-assertion against the will of his captain. No consideration of the justice or injustice of a law will absolve a citizen from obeying it so long as it continues to be the law. No conviction of the folly or inexpedience of an order can be held to justify the mutiny of the soldier or the sailor. Under certain circumstances we are as much convinced as the hermits were that obedience without delay or protest is an essential duty-is even the highest virtue. Of all conceivable circumstances only one is generally held to justify disobedience. If obedience involves, directly and unmistakably, a transgression of the law of God, then every man, citizen, soldier, sailor, or monk is held to be right in disobeying.

So far there is nothing in the hermits’ position about obedience which seems to conflict with the feeling even of men fundamentally opposed to monasticism. Nevertheless, there is felt to be a difference somewhere. A man who willingly recognises the soldier’s obedience to his officer as a virtue, finds a feeling of irritated hostility arise in his mind at the contemplation of a monk’s obedience to his abbot. Here, as very often elsewhere, a feeling which is, as one may say, instinctive to many men, is found upon examination to have a reasonable justification. The obedience of the hermit is a different thing from that of the soldier or the sailor. It rests upon a different basis, aims at a different result. The soldier obeys because, without discipline, an army is a useless mob. The sailor obeys because considerations for the common safety necessitate the predominance of one man’s will. If the conditions which necessitate obedience are removed. obedience itself ceases to be a virtue, and may become even a vice. When a volunteer regiment is disbanded, at the end of a war, the trooper no longer owes, or is supposed to owe, any kind of obedience whatever to the man who was his officer. When a ship comes to a port, and the crew is paid off, the sailor has no special duty to his captain. This is only to say that obedience is regarded simply as a necessary condition for success in all cases where combined effort is required. Once the success is attained there is no more reason for obedience. Apart from the obvious advantages of discipline, obedience-that is, obedience simply for the sake of obeying-strikes the ordinary conscience as silly, if not actually wrong. The hermits looked at the matter altogether differently. To them obedience was not a means of perfecting any organisation, but was a virtue in itself. It was one of the marks of the ideally perfect character. A hermit obeyed his abbot or his elder brother because he wanted to be good, and being good involved the total conquest of that self whose outworks were passions and lusts, but whose last stronghold was the desire to express in act its own convictions and will. Here we see why in the case of the hermit the wisdom or folly, the expediency or inexpediency of the command given were quite unimportant. John of Lycopohis was ordered, when he was young, to plant and water a dried-up stick. In itself the command was a silly one. Neither planting nor watering made any difference to the stick. Obedience or disobedience did, however, make all the difference possible for John. He obeyed, and by obeying built up within himself a certain character. He so far annihilated self and self-will that it ultimately became possible for him to receive direct revelations of the divine purpose. He might have disobeyed. Then also he would have built up a character-forceful, dominant, masterful-but not such as enables a man to be the intimate friend of Jesus Christ.

The judgment which condemns obedience like John’s as a worthless waste of time and energy is based upon a mistaken estimate of the relative value of what a man is and what he does. John, and others like him, might have spent their time in doing things that would have seemed to us more useful. Supposing that they had, the value of their work would be all exhausted centuries ago. The fields they dug would have gone back to barrenness or been dug again a thousand times. But the character which these men built up, by God’s grace, is to-day, as we believe, in Paradise a joy to the angels, a glory to the Master whom they served. By asserting themselves against a command which seemed foolish they might have accomplished something effective for a year or two. They might have cast deeds, like stones, into the pool of human life, have watched the waters splash and ripple, and close calm again. By obeying they built into eternity, reared the fabric of a beautiful and everlasting human soul.

I

The praise of the virtue of obedience.

Oh, my son, good indeed is that obedience which is rendered for the Lord’s sake. See to it, therefore, that your feet are placed upon the pathway that leads to the perfection of obedience. In obedience is the safety of all faithful souls. Obedience is the mother of all kinds of virtue. Obedience discovers the road that leads to heaven. It is obedience that opens heaven’s gates and raises men above the earth. Obedience hath her home among the angels. Obedience is the food of all the saints. From her breasts they suck the milk of life, and grow up to the measure of perfection.

II

The vision which one of the fathers saw, wherein was manifested the greatness of obedience. One of the fathers, being in a trance, saw four kinds of men standing before God. First he saw those who, though they suffer in the body and are sick, yet give thanks to God. Next were those who give themselves to hospitality and are devoted to the relief of others’ needs. Next were they who dwell in solitude and see not the faces of men. The fourth kind were they who strive to be obedient and submit themselves unto the will of the fathers. He beheld, and lo! this last kind was superior to the other three. They were wearing golden crowns, and had received an excellent glory above the glory of the rest. Then the old man spoke to him who showed the vision to him, saying, “Why has this fourth kind of men a greater glory than the others?” He was answered thus, “They all find some satisfaction in doing the things they wish to do, albeit the things they wish are all of them good. He, however, who obeys renounces the fulfilment of his own will. He gives himself up to the will of the father who orders him. Therefore to his share there falls an excellent glory above the glory of the rest.”

III

How obedience is no virtue if we only render it to those whose commands are according to our inclinations.

There was a brother once who said to a famous elder, “Father, I wish to find an old man with whom to dwell. I seek for one whose ways will be altogether according to my ideas of what is right. With him I wish to live and die.” The elder said to him, “Of a truth you are on a noble quest, my master.” Then he repeated his desire, being proud of it, and not understanding the meaning of the other’s words. When the elder perceived that he still regarded his desire as a good and noble one, he said to him, “Then, if you find an old man whose ways answer to what you think is right, do you think that you will stay with him?” The brother replied, “Certainly I should stay with such a one if he indeed answered to my expectations.” Then said the elder again, “Do you not see that you would not be following the teaching of him whom you seek for a master? You would be simply walking according to your own will.” Then that brother, understanding what the old man said to him, fell at his feet in penitence and said, “Pardon me, for certainly I have boasted greatly. I thought that I was saying what was good, and all the while there was no trace even of goodness in my words.”

IV

The obedience of Mark, the disciple of Silvanns.

The abbot Silvanus had a disciple whose name was Mark. He was remarkable for his obedience, and therefore Silvanus loved him. Now he had also eleven other disciples, and they were vexed because Mark was more beloved than they were. When the elders heard this they were grieved, and came to Silvanus, intending to ask him to give up his favourite, since the brethren were offended. Before they had said anything Silvanus took them with him to make a round of the various cells. He called each monk by his name, saying, “Come out, for I have work for you to do.” No single one of them was willing to come out. The last of all of those to whom they came was Mark. Silvanus knocked at his door, and called his name. Immediately Mark came out, hearing his master’s voice. Then the abbots entered Mark’s cell. Now Mark was a writer who copied books. Looking at the manuscript at which he had been at work, they found that he had left unfinished the letter which he was forming when he heard the voice of the old man. This he had done that his obedience might be prompt. Then said the other elders to Silvanus, “Truly him, whom you love, we also love; and no doubt God loves him because of his obedience.”

CHAPTER XII: ON AVOIDING THE PRAISE OF MEN TAKE HEED THAT YE DO NOT YOUR ALMS BEFORE MEN, to be seen of them.

—St. Matt. vi. 1.

When thou prayest, thou shalt not be as the hypocrites are: for they love to pray . . . that they may be seen of men.

—St. Matt. vi. 5.

When thou fastest, anoint thine head, and wash thy face that thou appear not unto men to fast.

—St. Matt. vi. 17, 18.

Never desire to be singularly commended or beloved, for that pertaineth only unto God, who hath none like unto Himself.

The Imitation of Christ, ii. 8.

Mere empty glory is in truth an evil pest, the greatest of vanities; because it draweth man from the true glory, and robbeth him of heavenly grace.

The Imitation of Christ, iii. 40.

THAT is a fine saying in which vainglory is compared to an onion or other bulbous root. In the region of spiritual asceticism there is no struggle more difficult than that against the spirit of vainglory. The desire of being praised-and this is what the hermits meant by vainglory-is natural to every man, Christian or pagan, good or bad. In whatever sphere of human activity a man may elect to spend his energies, the praise of some men will wait for him. One man may desire and work for the praise of the crowd, another may find a subtler measure in the congratulations of the few. To one it is enough that the multitude should reckon him to be a good man and throng to listen to his teaching. To another the recognition of his merits by the multitude seems in itself a kind of condemnation. He desires the less audible approbation of the one or two whose own righteousness constitutes them fit judges of what is good. Some men are found openly exulting in being praised. No flattery is too coarse or obvious for them. When it is withheld they demand it blatantly. Others shrink from the sound of open praise, and yet go through life, cautiously feeling about for signs of the esteem in which their neighbours hold them. The hermit who compared the love of praise to an onion had probed far down into human weakness. His sight was keen when he saw that to escape the desire of praise for one kind of virtue is to find oneself seeking it all the more earnestly for another, until the soul is caught in the paradox of desiring to be known as one who does not wish for praise at all.

Vainglory must not be confused with pride. It is the strong man who is proud. In proportion as he grows stronger he feels less and less need for the approbation of others. Milton’s heroic Satan may stand as a type of strength and pride. We do not think of him as troubled much about any judgment passed on him. He neither seeks praise nor dreads blame. It is our weakness which makes us long for approbation. We are not sure enough of ourselves to stand alone or persevere without someone to tell us we are doing well. Thus pride and vainglory are opposed to each other. They are the besetting sins of opposite types of character. A man may even be cured of overmuch desire of praise by teaching him to be proud enough to disregard the opinions of the crowd about his acts. Yet it was not because vainglory was an indication of weakness that the hermits strove so hard against it, nor was it along the way of pride and strength that they sought to escape. They thought of virtue as such a tender plant that the breath of praise withered it. Goodness, in their opinion, actually ceased to be the highest kind of goodness when it was recognised. The ideal was to live and die unknown. I do not remember that the hermits ever appealed directly to the example of the Lord in their shrinking from vainglory, but I am sure that their teaching was entirely in accordance with the spirit of His life. For far the greater part of the time of His dwelling among us He chose to remain unknown. Even when the fulfilment of His mission involved His doing works which some men were sure to praise, He strove by all means to avoid publicity. The very manner of His great sacrifice of Himself was so devoid of all obvious heroism that it was only after its consummation that His lifting up began to draw all men unto Him.

Just as it was not because the desire of praise is a sign of weakness that the hermits condemned it, so it was not by trying to be strong and independent that they avoided it. The story of the abbot Nisteros’ flight from the serpent is so quaint that at first the reader is moved only to smile. Yet in it we find a man avoiding the peril of being praised by a display of weakness and even cowardice. So, too, the abbot Sisois does not try to attain that position of haughty isolation which would have made him indifferent to the judge’s praise or blame. He, like Nisteros, in order to avoid vainglory, deliberately courts contempt. He aims at being despised, lest the Lord’s “woe” should fall upon him, and men learn to speak well of him.

I

A saying concerning virtue, how it should be hidden.

A certain one said, “As treasure when it is discovered speedily becomes less, so virtue made known unto man vanishes. As wax melteth at the fire, so the virtue of the soul is thawed and runs away when it is praised.”

II

A warning against the danger of being praised.

A brother once asked the abbot Mathoes: “If I go to dwell in any place, what shall I do there?” The old man answered him, “If you dwell in any place, do not make a name for yourself there for anything. Do not say that you will not join the meetings of the brethren, or that you will not eat this or that. So doing, you will make a name for yourself. Afterwards you will perhaps be praised and become famous. Then others will come to inquire of you concerning the way of life, and your own soul will be injured by their frequent comings.”

III

“Love to be unknown.”

The abbot Zeno, the disciple of Silvanus, said, “Never dwell in a famous place, or make a friend of a famous man.”

IV

The advice of the abbot Macarius to those who desire eminence.

St. Macarius once said, “Do not desire, nor, if you can help it, permit yourself to be made the head of a congregation, lest perhaps you lay the weight of other men’s sins upon your neck.”

V

A story of the abbot Nisteros, how he escaped the temptation of vainglory.

The abbot Nisteros the elder was one day walking in the desert with one of his disciples. Seeing a serpent in their path, they both turned and fled from it. Then the disciple said, “My father, were you afraid?” The old man answered him, “I was not afraid, my son, but it was better for me that I should flee before the serpent. If I had not at once fled from it, I should afterwards have had to flee before the spirit of vainglory.”

VI

A story of the abbot Sisois, how he avoided being praised by one who wished to admire his way of life. On one occasion a certain judge wished to pay a visit to the abbot Sisois. Some of the clergy went beforehand, and said to him, “Father, prepare yourself, for the judge has heard of your works and your piety, and is coming to visit you. He desires also to receive your benediction.” Sisois said, “I shall do as you desire. I shall prepare myself for his visit.” Then he clad himself in his best garments, took bread and cheese in his hands, and seating himself with outstretched feet at the door of his cell, began to eat. When the judge with his retinue arrived and saw him, he said, “Is this the famous anchorite of whom I heard so much?” So, despising Sisois, he departed.

VII

A comparison which shows the nature of vainglory.

The elders admirably describe the nature of this malady as like that of an onion, and of those bulbs which when stripped of one covering you find to be sheathed in another; and as often as you strip them you find them still protected. All other vices when overcome grow feeble, and when beaten are rendered day by day weaker. But vainglory, which is the desire of praise, when it is beaten rises again keener than ever for the struggle. When we think it is destroyed it revives again, and is stronger than ever on account of its death. The other kinds of vices only attack those whom they have overcome in the conflict. This one pursues those who are victorious over it all the more keenly. The more thoroughly it has been resisted, so much the more vigorously does it attack the man who is elated by his victory over it.

VIII

A word of St. Antony, teaching that he who suffers himself to be counted foolish, alone is wise. Some of the elders once visited St. Antony, and with them came the abbot Joseph. St. Antony, wishing to prove what manner of men they were, started a question about the meaning of a passage of Scripture. One by one they gave their opinions about the meaning of it. To each of them he said, “You have not hit it.” At last it came to the turn of the abbot Joseph, and the saint said to him, “In what way do you understand this passage?” He replied, “I do not know.” Then said St. Antony, “Truly, the abbot Joseph has discovered the way in which Scripture is to be interpreted, for he acknowledges his own ignorance.”

IX

Of the subtlety of the temptation of vainglory, which is the pleasure of being praised by men.

Our other faults and passions are simpler, and have each of them but one form. This one takes many forms and shapes, and changes about and assails the man who stands up against it from every quarter, and assaults even him who conquers it on every side. It tries to find occasion for injuring the servant of Christ in his dress, in his manner, his walk, his voice, his work, his vigils, his fasts, his prayers. It lies in wait for him when he withdraws to solitude, when he reads, in his knowledge, his silence, his obedience, his humility, his patience. It is like some most dangerous rock hidden by the waves. It causes miserable shipwreck to those who are sailing with a fair breeze, while they are not on the look out or guarding against it.

X

A rebuke of ostentation.

There was a certain brother who practised abstinence from various kinds of food, and especially refused to eat bread. He went once to visit a renowned elder. As it happened, while he was there, some strangers arrived, and the old man prepared a scanty meal for them. When they sat down to eat the brother who practised abstinence would eat nothing except a single bean. When they rose from the table the elder took him apart privately, and said to him, “Brother, when you are in the company of others do not be anxious to display your own way of living. If you really wish to keep your rule of life unbroken, sit in your own cell and never leave it.” When he heard these words he felt that the elder was right. Therefore ever afterwards he conformed his ways to those of the brethren among whom he found himself.

CHAPTER XIII

ON ANGER

Every one who is angry with his brother shall be in danger of the judgment; and whosoever shall say to his brother, Raca, shall be in danger of the council; and whosoever shall say, Thou fool, shall be in danger of the hell of fire.

—St. Matt. v. 22 (R.V.).

Nothing so stills the elephant when enraged as the sight of a lamb; nor does anything break the force of a cannon-ball so well as wool. Correction given in anger, however tempered by reason, never has so much effect as that which is given altogether without anger; for the reasonable soul, being naturally subject to reason, it is a tyranny which subjects it to passion, and whereinsoever reason is led by passion it becomes odious, and its just rule obnoxious.

—St. Francis of Sales, The Devout Life, viii.

THE only point which is really peculiar in the hermits’ teaching about anger is that the possibility of righteous anger is altogether denied. No matter how wicked a brother might be, or how serious the consequence of his sin, it was not right to be angry with him. To try to cure another of sin by angry denunciation was the same thing as for a physician to try to cure his patient by innoculating himself with a similar fever, for to be angry even with sinfulness is to sin.

Apart from this one point, the hermits’ teaching is only remarkable for the accuracy of its analysis of the source from which anger springs, and its thoroughness in the practical treatment of the fault.

Anger is traced back to the hermits’ most intimate enemy-self. It is an expression of selfishness, a sign that self has not wholly and really been conquered. Thus anger may spring from avarice. It is then the protest of self against any interference with what are regarded as possessions. Where the renunciation of property is really complete this kind of anger becomes impossible. There is a beautiful story of two hermits who determined to find out by experience what it was like to be angry. They planned that each of them should claim for his own an earthen pot which lay in their cell. The attempted quarrel began well enough, for the first monk said, “The pot is mine,” and the second replied to him, “No, it is mine.” But at this point the first man’s resolution broke down, and he said, “As you say, brother, it is yours.” This hermit had so entirely renounced the satisfaction of possessing anything that it was as impossible for him to grow angry in a dispute about property as it would be for a sensible man to do battle with a child for the sake of some treasure of broken glass or coloured stone. The desire of impressing his own will or opinions upon others is another sign that the old self in a man is not wholly dead. Where such a desire exists in any strength, and others thwart it, the result is anger. In the same way vainglory, when it is starved for want of praise, and pride when it proves to be indulged in foolishly, give birth to anger. Vainglory and pride are alike vices of selfishness.

The hermits distinguished various stages of anger, to each of which was attached a certain degree of guilt. There was first the feeling of anger in the heart, the sudden rush of bitter feeling consequent on suffering unjustly. This cannot be fought against. It may be avoided only by those in whom the old self is utterly dead. Next comes the expression of anger on the countenance. It is at this point that the hermits’ battle with anger really begins. It is possible to choke down at once the emotion so that not even the tightened lips or frowning brow betray its presence. Then there is the vent which anger finds in words. Here is another point of defence for the hermit. He may and ought to be able to bridle his tongue. The final stage of anger is when a man so loses self-control as to strike or injure another. It is something to have stopped short of this.

There is an altogether different kind of anger, which has its origin not in the negative side of the religious life, through failure to eradicate the old selfish instincts, but in the positive side, in coming short of absorbing interest in divine things. To the hermit who fell away from his loving desire for the Lord, whose mind ceased to be dominated by visions of the King in His beauty, the life of the cell or the community became an intolerable weariness. A craving for change and excitement seized upon him. The monotony of his daily round alternately oppressed and goaded him. In this condition he was a ready prey to peevishness and irritability. He flew into sudden fits of unreasoning fury with brothers who had in no way offended him; or if human objects were absent, vented his ill-humour by cursing his pen or his knife or the stones on the road when his feet tripped on them. This kind of anger was the result of a morbid spiritual state which the hermits recognised as sinful, and called accidie. To fly from the circumstances which gave excuse for its expression was manifestly useless. It is possible to fly from men but not, as the hermit in the story found, from the demon who excites to this kind of anger. Even the attainment of a sleepy apathy is not a real cure for it. The serpent is venomous Still, though he lies torpid and bites no one. The true cure lies in the renewal of the broken communion with God. Then the weariness and accidie give place to active joy, and the temptation to sudden anger-fits disappears.

I

The teaching of a certain elder, concerning the nature and origin of anger.

A certain elder said, Anger arises through four things-through the greed of avarice, whether in giving or receiving; also through loving and defending one’s own opinion; through a desire of being honourably exalted; also through wishing to be learned or hoping to be wise above all others.

In four ways anger darkens the nature of a man-when he hates his neighbour, when he envies him, when he despises him, and when he belittles him.

In four places anger finds scope-first in the heart, second in the face, third in the tongue, fourth in the act. Thus if a man can bear injury, so that the bitterness of it does not enter into his heart, then anger will not appear in his face. If, however, it find expression in his face, he still may guard his tongue so as to give no utterance of it. If even here he fail and give it utterance with his tongue, yet let him not translate his words into acts, but hastily dismiss them from his memory.

Men are of three kinds, according to the place which anger finds in them. He who is hurt and injured, and yet spares his persecutor, is a man after the pattern of Christ. He who is neither hurt himself, nor desires to hurt another, is a man after the pattern of Adam. He who hurts or slanders another is a man after the pattern of the Devil.

II

How we must not suppose that the spirit of anger is dead in us when we happen to escape for a time from the things which are wont to arouse it.

Anger is like all poisonous kinds of serpents and wild beasts, which while they remain in solitude and in their own lairs are still not harmless; for they cannot really be said to be harmless because they are not actually hurting anyone. For this results in such a case, not from any feeling of goodness, but from the exigencies of solitude. When they have secured an opportunity of hurting anyone, at once they produce the poison that is stored up in them, and show the ferocity of their nature. So in the case of men who are aiming at perfection, it is not enough not to be angry with men. I recollect that when I was dwelling in solitude a feeling of irritation would creep over me against my pen because it was too large or too small; against my penknife when it cut badly or with a blunt edge what I wanted cut; and against a flint if by chance when I was rather late and hurrying to the reading, a spark of fire flashed out. Then I could not get rid of my perturbation of mind except by cursing the senseless matter or, at least, the devil. Therefore for one who is aiming at perfection it is not enough that there should be no men who afford occasion for anger. If the virtue of patience have not been acquired, the feelings of passion which still dwell in his heart can equally well spend themselves on dumb things and paltry objects, and not allow him to gain continuous peace.

III

Of a certain brother who tried to avoid the occasions rather than conquer the spirit of anger. A certain brother was frequently moved to anger while he dwelt in a monastery. He said, therefore within himself, “I shall go forth into solitude, and when I have no one to quarrel with I shall find rest from this spirit of anger.” So he went and dwelt in a certain cave. One day, after he had filled his pitcher and placed it on the ground, it was suddenly upset. Three times he filled it, and three times in the same way the water was spilled. Then, in a rage, he seized the vessel and broke it. When he came to himself, and began to consider how he had been trapped by the demon of anger, he said, “Lo, I am here alone, and yet I have been vanquished by anger. I shall return to my monastery, because, wherever there is most need of striving and of patience, there, no doubt, chiefly is the grace of God to be found.” Then, rising up, he returned to his own place.

IV

How by gentleness we may overcome another’s anger.

A certain old man had a faithful disciple. Once, in a fit of anger, he drove him from his cell. The disciple waited all night outside the door. In the morning the old man opened it, and, when he saw him, was struck with shame, and said, “You are my father now, because your humility and patience have conquered my sin. Come in again, and from henceforth be you the elder and the father. I will be the disciple, for you have surpassed me, though I am aged.”

V

The advice of an elder, showing how we may avoid feeling angry with those who injure us. A certain monk was injured by one of the brethren. He told what had happened to one of the elders, who said to him, “Let your mind be at peace. The brother has done no injury to you, nor must you think he wished to. He has done injury to your sins. In any trial which comes to you through man, do not blame the man, but just say, ‘On account of my sins this thing has befallen me.”‘

VI

He who is a slave to anger is not likely to conquer other sins.

A certain one said, If a man cannot bridle his tongue in the moment of anger, he will certainly not be able to be victorious over any lust of his flesh.

CHAPTER XV

ON EVIL THOUGHTS

These are the things which defile a man.

Finally, brethren, whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good report; if there be any virtue, and if there be any praise, think on these things.

—Phil. iv. 8.

O Lord, my God, be not Thou far from me; my God, make haste to help me: for there have risen up against me sundry thoughts, and great fears afflicting my soul. Do, O Lord, as Thou sayest, and let all evil thoughts fly before Thy face.

—The imitation of Christ, iii. 23.

THE necessity for struggling against evil thoughts occupies, as we might expect, an important place in the hermits’ scheme of the religious life. The circumstances under which they lived afforded ample opportunities for all kinds of thought and meditation. Often for whole days literally nothing happened to distract the mind from its own musings. The voices of the world were silenced. Only occasionally faint rumours of great events reached the lauras in the desert. The isolation of even those of the Lower Egyptian hermits, who came nearest to living a community life, was for five days of the week almost complete. Other cells were in sight. The figures of other hermits could be descried going for their water-supply or toiling in their gardens. Yet, save for the weekly gatherings on Saturdays and Sundays, there was, under ordinary circumstances, little or no intercourse even between members of the same laura. The rare advent of some stranger might bring the hermits swarming from their cells to bid him welcome; an event of peculiar importance might set the abbot’s rude bell ringing to summon the brethren to a consultation; but, as a rule, the life was solitary, and there was little or nothing in its outward circumstances to distract the mind. The work of mat-weaving and basketmaking became, for their skilled fingers, purely mechanical. The thoughts were elsewhere even while the hands were busy. So it came that thoughts were not, as they are for men who live amid the world’s hurried happenings, swift reflex responses to the excitements of impressions from outside, but wrought out mindpictures and imaginings of things on earth and things in heaven. We think of such day-dreams as the result of the mind’s working upon the recollection of experiences long past, or its effort to realize the imagery of Holy Scripture. The hermits conceived them as the result of the mysterious suggestions of powers outside themselves, powers bent upon the conquest of their minds for good or evil. Thus when Isidore showed the abbot Moses the vision of Dothan he displayed a picture of what seemed to him to be literally taking place around the mind of every hermit. The demons never ceased suggesting evil thoughts. The hosts of angels crowded round with thoughts of what was holy and honest, and of good report.

Though the battle was thus being fought by powers outside himself, the hermit was no passive spectator, nor his mind the mere booty of the victorious side. He himself took an active part-indeed, bore the chief share in the strife. On him depended, in the end, the issue of the conflict. It was, indeed, beyond his power to prevent the suggestions of the demons. He could not check the entrance of evil thoughts into his mind. He was, however, able to prevent the evil from obtaining a lodgment in his mind. He could refuse to dream and meditate on thoughts of pride, or hatred, or impurity. According to the vivid imagery of one of their teachers, the mind was a house into which the devil cast sordid things. It was the part of the good householder to pitch them out again speedily, before their accumulation made the home uninhabitable for what was good. Or, as another taught, the evil thoughts might be smothered and packed away, given no opportunity to develop their horrible nature, until, like garments shut unaired into boxes, they mouldered into decay.

The advice of the teacher who would have us struggle against only one kind of evil thought, since for each man there is one from which all others draw their power, is suggestive of some deep spiritual experience. It seems as if there is in each soul some one weak point where, once the entrance is won by the demon who assaults it, all other demons are easily able to follow him. Thus to him who has given way to dreams of pride there comes a time when avarice and lust will obtain possession also of his mind. For each man, therefore, it is necessary only in reality to set himself to strive with one kind of evil thought.

While the hermits felt the necessity for watchfulness and struggle, lest they should fall, they gladly recognised that it was through the same strife that they obtained the chance of rising. It is, they taught, through evil thoughts that men make shipwreck of their souls, but also it is through evil thoughts that men are crowned. To them it did not seem a desirable thing to be freed, if that were possible, from the suggestions of evil. What they did wish was to meet the evil at its strongest, and then, through Christ, to vanquish it. To have no evil thoughts is to be no better than a beast. To be afflicted with them, and yet conquer them, is to rise into communion with God.

There are infirmities of the mind, like forgetfulness, which are not evil save in so far as they hinder the soul from the highest flights of all. To those who suffered thus the fathers were very tender. It is most comforting to read the gentle parable by which the brother was encouraged who was unable to bear in mind the religious exhortations which he heard.

In all their teaching about the struggle against evil thoughts the hermits recognised that the truest victory is to be obtained by filling the mind with holy imagery. It is not enough to cast the demons out. We must welcome the angels when they come, must store the mind with good thoughts by constant reading and repetition of Holy Scripture, must keep it stretched in meditation upon the love and the work of the Lord. This, if we can perfectly accomplish it, will certainly give us the victory over evil thoughts, and reduce to impotence the demons who suggest them.

I

Of a certain brother who was continually on the watch against evil thoughts.

It is related that seven brethren used to dwell together on the mountain of St. Antony. At the time of the date-harvests one of them used to be always keeping watch, so as to drive away the birds from the dates. One of the seven, an old man, when it came to his turn to guard the dates, spent the day in crying out, “Depart from within, ye evil thoughts; depart from without, ye birds.”

II

The abbot Pastor teaches that evil thoughts are not to be avoided, but overcome.

A certain brother came to the abbot Pastor, and said, “Many evil thoughts come into my mind, and I am in danger through them.” The old man led him out into the air, and said to him, “Stretch yourself out, and stop the wind from blowing.” The brother, wondering at his words, replied, “I cannot do that.” Then the old man said to him, “If you cannot stop the wind from blowing, neither can you prevent evil thoughts from entering your mind. That is beyond your power; but one thing you can do-conquer them.”

III

The teaching of the abbot Moses on the same subject.

It is impossible for the mind not to be approached by thoughts, but it is in the power of every earnest man either to admit them or reject them. Their rising does not depend upon ourselves, but their admission or rejection is in our own power. The movement of the mind may well be illustrated by the comparison of a millwheel. The headlong rush of water whirls it round, and it can never stop its work so long as it is driven by the water. Yet it is in the power of the man who directs it to decide whether he will have wheat, or barley, or darnel ground by it. For it must certainly crush that which the man in charge of it puts in. So the mind is driven by the torrents of temptation which pour in on it from every side, and cannot be free from the flow of thoughts, but the character of the thoughts we control by the efforts of our own earnestness.

IV

The abbot Pastor speaks of a way in which we may overcome evil thoughts.

The abbot Isaiah once asked the abbot Pastor about evil thoughts which troubled him. Pastor answered him, “Just as clothes which are put away for a long time in some trunk, and not taken out at all, moulder and decay, so the evil thoughts of our hearts, if we do not put them into action, after a long time will fade away.

V

The abbot Moses speaks also of a way of overcoming evil thoughts.

We must constantly fall back upon meditation on the Holy Scriptures, and raise our minds towards the recollection of spiritual things, and the desire of perfection, and the hope of future bliss. In this way spiritual thoughts are sure to arise in us, and our minds will dwell on the things on which we have been meditating. If we are overcome by sloth and carelessness, and spend our time in idle gossip, or if we are entangled in the cares of this world and unnecessary anxieties, the result will be that tares will spring up in our hearts and take possession of them. As our Lord and Saviour says, Wherever the treasure of our works or purpose may be, there also our heart is sure to continue.

VI

Of the infirmity of forgetfulness, and how we ought not to despond because of it.

A certain brother said to one of the elders, “Lo, my father, I frequently consult the elders, and they give me advice for the salvation of my soul, yet of all that they say to me I can remember nothing.” Now it happened that there were two vessels standing empty beside the old man to whom he spoke. He therefore said to the brother, “Go, take one of the vessels. Put water in it. Wash it, and pour the water out of it again. Then put it back, clean, into its place.” The brother did so. Then said the old man, “Bring both vessels here. Look at them carefully, and tell me which is the cleaner.” “Surely,” said the brother, “that is the cleaner which I washed with the water.” Then said the old man to him again, “Even so it is, my son, with the soul which frequently hears the words of God. Even although the memory retain none of them, yet is that soul purer than his who never seeks for spiritual counsel.”

VII

Advice for the conquering of evil thoughts.

A certain brother once asked one of the elders, “How shall I overcome the evil thoughts which ceaselessly trouble me?” The elder said to him, “Do not attempt to strive with all of them. Strive only against one. All evil thoughts have a single head and source.-In one man it is this, in another that. It is necessary, first of all, to find out each man for himself what is the origin of his evil thoughts. Then let him bend his energies to the conquest of that one thing, and all other evil thoughts will give way before him.”

VIII THAT EVIL THOUGHTS ARE EVIL DEEDS

“Brethren,” said a certain elder, “you are striving to commit no evil deed. I beseech you strive, at the same time, to think no evil thought.”

IX

How temptation is not sin, but the means of being good.

A certain elder said, God will not condemn us because evil thoughts enter our hearts, but only if we make a bad use of our evil thoughts. It happens sometimes that men’s souls are shipwrecked through evil thoughts, but also it is by the entering in of such thoughts that we become worthy of being crowned.

X

How we are to deal with evil thoughts.

A certain elder said, The devil is an enemy, and your mind is a house. The enemy ceases not to throw into your house every kind of filth that he can find, and to pour into it a world of sordidness. It is your part to be diligent in casting out of your habitation what he throws in. This if you neglect to do, your house will soon be filled with sordid things, and even you yourself will strive in vain to enter into it. Therefore, from the very first, cast out bit by bit everything that he puts in. Then will your house remain clean for you, by the grace of God.

XI

Of our strife against evil thoughts.

A certain elder said, If we have no evil thoughts we are no better than the beasts. The enemy does what is in his power when he suggests them to us. Let us also do the duty which lies within our power. Be instant in prayer, and the enemy will flee. Find time for meditation on divine things, and you will conquer. Persevere, and the good in you will win. Strive hard, and you will be crowned.

XII

How the abbot Moses saw the vision which once the servant of Elisha saw, and was strengthened. Once, while the abbot Moses dwelt in the region called Petra, he was attacked by the demon of impurity with such fierceness that he could not remain in his cell, nor dared he be alone. He went, therefore, to the holy abbot Isidore and told him of the vehemence of the evil thoughts which came to him. The abbot Isidore bid him be of good cheer, and brought forth from the Holy Scriptures many words of encouragement and strength. Then he bid Moses return to his cell. But this Moses was not willing to do, dreading still to be alone. Then Isidore led him up to the hill which was behind his cell, and said to him, “Turn your eyes westwards and look.” He gazed as he was bidden, and beheld a host of demons. Their regiments swept passionately past. They seemed as those prepared for battle, and eager for strife. Then said the abbot Isidore again, “Turn your eyes to the east and look.” He gazed as he was bidden, and beheld a numberless array of holy angels. They seemed more glorious and splendid than the shining of the sun, and marched as the army of the good powers of heaven. “Behold,” said Isidore, “those whom you saw in the west are the powers which fight against the saints of God. Those whom your eyes looked on in the east are they whom God sends to help His saints. Be sure that the army which fights for us is the stronger one, as saith the prophet Eliseus. Truly, also, St. John saith, ‘Greater is He that is in us than he that is in the world.’” When he heard these words Moses took heart of grace, and, being comforted in the Lord, returned to his cell. There he gave God thanks, and praised the long-suffering and the kindness of our Lord Jesus Christ.

XIII

How a certain elder overcame the evil thought which prompted him to postpone his penitence. It is told of a certain elder that very often his thoughts said to him, “Let today go by. Tomorrow will be time enough to repent.” He always answered them, “I cannot do this, because to-morrow some other part of God’s will must be worked out in me.”

CHAPTER XVI: ON THE LIFE IN THE WORLD THIS DAY IS SALVATION COME TO THIS HOUSE, forsomuch as he also is the son of Abraham.

—St. Luke xix. 9.

This the Lord said, rebuking those who thought that Zacchaeus was outside the region of the grace of God.

It is not granted to all to forsake all, to renounce the world, and to undertake a life of religious seclusion.

—The Imitation of Christ, iii. 10.

THE hermits succeeded in separating their lives not only from the world but from the ways of those Christians who lived in the world. Save for their own brief excursions into village market-places to sell their baskets, and the visits of pilgrims in search of teaching or healing to their cells, the hermits came very little into contact with ordinary members of the Church. It is not to be supposed, therefore, that they either gave much thought to the position of Christians in the world or tried to persuade them to leave it. The hermits were neither theorists nor philosophers. Their religion was entirely practical, and mainly personal. They made no effort whatever to explain why some Christians married, grew rich, and accepted the world’s honours, while others retired into the solitude of the wilderness. The hermit was very vividly conscious of his own call to the ascetic life, but he was content to leave others to work out for themselves their own salvation in their own way. The question of the relation of the monastic to the secular life had occupied the mind of Origen, but the hermits either did not know or were totally uninterested in his speculations. The same problem came up for solution afterwards, and was argued out by men like St. Ambrose and St. Augustine, but the hermits did nothing towards providing a philosophy of the life they lived. In spite of the mass of teaching that they left behind them, references of any sort to Christians who lived in the world are extremely few.

The spirit of these few references is wholly different from what we might expect. Experience teaches us that men who are rigorists, who, to a greater or less extent, stand aloof from the common joys and labours and ambitions of mankind find it necessary, as it were in self-defence, to judge sternly of those who do not walk in their ways. It is a lamentable fact that the great earnestness which enables men to make real renunciations is too often connected not only with want of charity, but with a total incapacity to appreciate the amount of genuine religion which exists in systems less rigorous than their own. It has come to be recognised as almost an unvarying law that the Christian who fasts and weeps, even if he does not fail in charity to individuals will never be able to recognise that there is a real religion in which laughter and dancing find their place. Of all men the hermits were the most rigorous in their life. We should expect therefore to find them most ready in definite condemnation of religious ways which differed from their own. I do not suppose that anyone who has learnt to appreciate the depth and spirituality of their religion would expect to find them bitter and uncharitable towards individuals. Such a spirit cannot coexist with the seeing and desiring to see the God who is love. Nor, I think, should we be surprised to find them recognising some possibility of good in the life of the Christian in the world. It is, however, with real amazement that we read the few judgments which they passed on the secular life. It is not that they look on such life as good, though poorer and lower than their own; still less do they regard it with that pitying contempt which is often misnamed charity. They recognise gladly that it may be in every way equal to their own lives. They go back to their cells from the kitchens of housewives and the workshops of tradesmen humbled by the contemplation of a perfection to which they themselves have not been able as yet to attain.

St. Macarius of Alexandria was one of the very sternest of the hermits in his ascetic practices. The fierceness of his efforts to subdue his body shock us, while we wonder at the strength of the man who made them. Of all the leaders of the movement he would seem the least likely to appreciate the beauty of a Christian life lived in the world. Yet it is he who says, “Truly virginity is nothing, nor marriage, nor the monk’s life, nor life in the world.” Certainly it was a special revelation which led him to the house of the two women whose way of life taught him this truth; yet we must suppose an almost incredible magnanimity in the man, placed as St. Macarius was, who could receive and profit by such a revelation. It is not so wonderful that St. Antony should have reached to the understanding of the many different ways in which God leads men upwards to Himself. We know enough about him to appreciate the broadness and sanity of his character. Yet even from him it is startling to hear such words as those he spoke to the Alexandrian tanner: “Of a truth, my son, you are on your way to the kingdom of God, and I, like a man without wisdom, am passing the time of my solitude without attaining to the measure of the perfection that you have told me of.”

The words of Muthues are poorer, perhaps, than the confessions of St. Antony and St. Macarius, yet they have a special value. They show us how it was that the hermits became capable of such clear-sightedness in the recognition of good. It was through their humility, that virtue which is likened, aptly, to the rudder of a ship. God Himself could not have revealed the great truths about life, which these saints saw, except to men whose hearts were well prepared for His Spirit by a long discipline of subduing pride.

I

How the divine guidance enabled St. Antony to see that a life well pleasing to God may be accomplished by one who is in the world as well as by a monk.

Once, while St. Antony was praying in his cell, there came to him a voice which said, “Oh, Antony, for all your life in the desert you have not yet attained the measure of the perfection of a tanner who lives in Alexandria.” When he heard this the saint rose up early, took his staff; and came with haste to Alexandria. He speedily found the man of whom he had been told. The tanner was struck dumb at the sight of so great a saint. St. Antony said to him, “Describe to me the manner of your life. I have come here from the desert to learn about your good deeds.” The tanner answered him, “I have not, so far as I know, done anything good at all. I am a very sinful man. When I rise from my bed in the morning, before my work begins I say, ‘All the people in this city must be better than I am. From the least to the greatest they may well be entering into the kingdom of heaven. I, because of my sins, am certainly going to everlasting punishment.’ Then when I am going to rest at night I find myself obliged to repeat this same saying.” Then St. Antony replied to him, “Of a truth, my son, you, as you sit here quietly in your house, are on your way to the kingdom of God. I, like a man without wisdom, am passing the time of my solitude without attaining to the measure of the perfection that you have told me of.”

II

How St. Macarius was guided by the Spirit to a knowledge of the same truth.

Once, while the abbot Macarius was praying, a voice sounded in his ears, which said to him, “Macarius, you have not yet arrived at the measure of the sanctity of two women who dwell in the neighbouring city.” When he heard this he arose and, taking his staff, set forth for the city which had been named. He sought and found the house where the women lived. When he knocked at the door one of the women came out, and, perceiving who he was, welcomed him into the house with great joy. St. Macarius called the two together to him, and said, “On your account I have endured the toil of coming here from my solitude. I desire to know your way of life. I pray you to describe it to me.” They, however, replied to him, “Most holy father, what kind of life is ours for you to ask about?” He persisted in asking that they would describe it to him. Then, since he compelled them, they said, “We are not, indeed, related to each other by blood, but it happened that we married two brothers. Now, though we have lived together for fifteen years, we have had no quarrel, neither has either of us spoken a sharp word to the other. We both desired to leave our husbands and enter a community of holy women. We begged our husbands to permit us, but they would not. Then we vowed that until the day of our death we should hold no worldly talk with each other, but converse only about spiritual things.” When St. Macarius heard what they told him, he said, “Truly virginity is nothing, nor marriage, nor the monk’s life, nor dwelling in the world. It is purposes and vows like this which God seeks from us, and He gives the spirit of life to all alike.”

III

How the monk must not reckon himself safe because he is a monk, nor must think of those who live in the world as lost.

The abbot Muthues said, The nearer a man draws to God the more he sees his own sinfulness. Thus when the prophet Isaiah had his vision of God he exclaimed that he was wretched and unclean. Let us be careful to hold this truth fast, for the Scripture saith, “Let him who thinketh he standeth take heed lest he fall.” We voyage doubtfully across the waves of this world. We indeed may seem to be sailing over quiet seas while they who dwell in the world go amid dangers. We shape our course in the daylight, lit upon our way by the Sun of Righteousness. They, as if in the night-time, may steer in ignorance of where they go. Yet it often may come to pass that the dweller in the world, just because he voyages through a dark night, is very watchful, and his ship comes safe to port. So too we, just because we voyage over quiet seas, grow careless. Too often from our very security we perish, letting go the helm, which is humility. Just as no ship can be safe without a rudder, so it is impossible for a man to come safe to his journey’s end without humility.

CHAPTER XVII: THE INNER LIFE AND THE VISIBLE CHURCH THE SCRIBES AND THE PHARISEES SIT IN MOSES’ SEAT all therefore whatsoever they bid you observe, that observe and do; but do not ye after their works.

—St. Matt. xxiii. 2, 3.

DURING the earlier stages of the monastic movement the hermits came very little into contact with Church authority. They lived, at first, outside the sphere of clerical activity. They were often far out of reach of village churches, and a priest in order to minister to them must have been himself prepared to become a hermit. They were, I believe, at first almost entirely uninterested in the controversies which rent the Church. Their devoted loyalty to St. Athanasius was less the result of their dogmatic orthodoxy than a tribute to the noble unworldliness of the great patriarch’s character. For them the entire interest of religion centred in the effort to keep the commandments of God and follow the example of Jesus Christ. Afterwards, of course, their spirit changed, and they became the earnest and sometimes even fanatical opponents of positions deemed heretical. Long before that time came, however, they had been obliged to adjust their relations to ecclesiastical authority.

It is not to be supposed that even the earliest hermits were in any way hostile to the clergy or opposed to the system of Church government, still less that they were contemptuous of the means of grace committed to the Church’s guardianship. Rather, we must think of them as men so absorbed in fostering and perfecting the inner life of personal communion with God, that they did not feel the need of absolution or of Sacraments. It was inevitable that as their numbers grew, and as they gathered into the communities of the lauras, this position must give way. The change was a very critical one. There was the possibility of a revolt against all the external machinery of religion. It is quite easy to understand that this was the most likely consequence of the earlier aloofness. Men who are genuinely on fire with a love for holiness are sure to resent the marks of corruption and insincerity which must ever be visible in the garments of the Church on earth. Men of intense spirituality are likely to revolt against the claims of authority which sometimes must seem to break in upon their own communion with God. It is not the least wonderful thing in the history of Egyptian monasticism that it never produced even the beginnings of a schism.

The change from the original position of entire spiritual independence to that of faithful loyalty to the Egyptian patriarchs took place silently, and has left but few traces of the steps by which it was accomplished. The two stories which form this chapter are quoted as examples of the way in which the hermits learned their lesson of obedience. They furnish us, I think, with valuable spiritual lessons, and give evidence of a grace in their heroes which is very worthy of imitation.

I

Of a hermit who refused the ministration of a priest who was a sinner.

Once a man said to a certain hermit, “The priest who ministers to you is a sinner.” Then doubt concerning the priest took possession of the hermit’s mind, and when, according to his custom, the priest came again he shut the door against him. There came a voice to him as he sat in his cell, which said “Assuredly men are governed by someone else than me.” Then he beheld a vision. He stood in a great garden wherein were fruit trees of every kind. He saw there the engine by which water was raised from the river for the watering of the garden, and lo, all the vessels connected with it were of gold. He was about to drink of the water when he saw that the man who tended the engine was a leper, loathsome to behold. Then all desire of drinking departed from him. There came the voice and spoke to him again, “Oh man, have you beheld the beauty of the garden and the trees? Have you seen the wheel with its golden furniture? Have you seen, too, the gardener and the misfortune which has overwhelmed him ?” The hermit answered, “I have seen all this.” Then said the voice, “Does his disease injure at all the trees or the beauty of the garden?” And he answered “No.” The voice said to him, “It is even so with the priest who makes the sacrifice. He may be a sinner, but his sin diminishes nothing of the honour due to the body of the Lord. The divine virtue is ever active in the Eucharist. The prayers with which he celebrates are always the same as the prayers of holy fathers.”

II

How the Lord himself taught the abbot Schnoudi the respect due to those who sit in Moses’ seat. It happened one day that the abbot Schnoudi was holding converse with our Saviour Jesus Christ, when the Bishop of Schmin arrived at the monastery. He sent to ask the abbot to come to him that he might talk to him. But Schnoudi, the Saviour as has been told being with him, sent back a message by the servant, “Schnoudi at this time has no leisure.” When the servant had given this message to the bishop he sent again, saying, “Bid him be kind to me, for I have come here for the purpose of knowing him.” But Schnoudi said to the brother who brought the message, “Tell him again that I have no leisure to see him.” Then the bishop was vexed, and said, “Say to him, If you do not come I shall excommunicate you.” Schnoudi, when he heard the message, smiled and said, “Behold the folly of this man of flesh and blood. Lo, here is with me the creator of heaven and earth. I shall continue to abide with Him.” Then the Saviour Himself spoke, and said to him, “Oh, Schnoudi, rise and go to the bishop, lest he excomumunicate you. If he does I shall not receive you into heaven. The Father promised, saying, ‘Whatsoever thou shalt bind on earth shall be bound in heaven, and whatsoever thou shalt loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven.’” Then when Schuoudi had heard these words he hastened to the presence of the bishop.

CHAPTER XVIII: IN THE HOUR OF DEATH IF A MAN KEEP MY SAYING, HE SHALL NEVER SEE DEATH

—St. John viii. 51.

Love Him and keep Him for thy friend, who when all go away will not forsake thee, nor suffer thee to perish at the last.

—The Imitation of Christ, ii. 7.

In the hour of death, and in the day of judgment, Good Lord, deliver us.

—The Litany.

THE tendency which sometimes manifests itself among pious people to think much of the last moments of those who depart hence in the faith of Christ is certainly morbid and leads to devotional thought of a sentimental kind. For most men the arrival of the supreme moment has been preceded by a weary period of physical suffering. The body is worn and wasted. The mind has lost its power, even the power of expectation. The spirit is depressed with weakness, sympathetic with the decay of the home God formed for it. Neither brave words nor clear vision of what lies beyond are commonly to be looked for. Very often, too, a certain self-forgetfulness which we cannot but praise fixes the thought of him who is to go more on the grief of the parting and the foreseen desolation of those who are left, than on the hope of the breaking forth of glory when the veil is lifted. Then from the mouth of the dying believer come, haltingly, words meant to be comfortable. They form no message from beyond. That they are spoken from the grave’s brink adds only a great pathos to the familiar attempts at consolation with which we who are left try to lighten the mourners’ grief. Yet sometimes, even in the hour of death, the spirit is so far triumphant over bodily decay as to recognise the supreme importance of the crisis through which it passes. The world beyond is realized, is felt-we may say, is seen. This world, and all that life in it has meant, is seen too, not any longer as a succession of incidents of which the nearest alone seem great, but seen whole with all its days in true perspective. From such vision there is every hope that we should learn. The Christian will not indeed expect or hope to grasp at secrets unrevealed, but he may reverently expect to be told of what the great emotion will consist. Is it to be joy or fear? Shall we be absorbed with regret looking backwards, or rapt in expectation of what is to come? Will joy and fear, regret and hope, all alike yield to an overmastering curiosity about what that other world is like? Will doubt for the last time harass us, or may we look for the extreme beatitude of the satisfaction at length of desire for the Beloved?

Of the four death-bed stories which I tell, one seems at first to speak only of regret for past mistakes. The Archbishop Theophilus tells us only that he knew at last that death ought to have been more often present in his mind. No doubt he was conscious that he would have lived better had he lived more as one who was about to go. Yet even here it is possible to feel that he regretted not only a mistake, but the missing of a great source of joy. If the passing away was a glad thing to him when it came, he would regret that he had failed to get the joy of its anticipation. The abbot Pammon saw his past life in the light of that which was dawning for him. We catch in his summary of his life’s accomplishments something of the triumph of St. Paul’s-”I have fought the good fight. I have finished my course.” Yet all that he was, or did, or felt seems nothing to him in comparison to the vista of devotion which stretches before him. Some regret there is in what he says, but in the main he speaks to us of expectation. To the abbot Agathon the hour of death brings a certain doubt. He, too, sees the life that is past, but his vision of that which is to come stops short at the judgment act. God is to pronounce that he has done well or been mistaken. He is not sure, even at the last, what God’s pronouncement is to be. This is his doubt. But it is a doubt which neither terrifies nor unmans, for it is covered by a larger faith. The pronouncement is to be God’s. That insures that it, at least, will be just and right. The man may have been mistaken. Death takes him where his mistake is surely to be rectified. For Sisois the hour of death brings an unspeakable rapture. St. Antony is with him, and the prophets and the apostles. He speaks to the angels, and they to him. Death means union with all whom he loved best. It is the satisfaction of long unfulfilled desire. Yet even for him there is regret. He knows that he is not good enough to join such company. Sins only half repented of crowd to his remembrance. He asks for time for more repentance. He is answered by the beatific vision of the Lord Himself, and love made perfect casts out fear.

I

How in the hour of death Pammon was fain to confess that his service of God had been but very imperfect. The abbot Pammon in that hour when he was passing away from the body spoke thus to the other holy men who stood around him, “Brethren, since the day that I came here to the desert, amid built this cell of mine, I do not think that I have ever eaten anything except what the work of my hands earned. I do not remember that I have reason to repent of any exhortation which I ever gave to the brethren. Yet, if indeed I am now going to God, it seems to me that I have not yet begun to learn to worship Him.”

II

How in the hour of death the abbot Agathon, though he knew nothing against himself, yet was not thereby justified.

At the time when the abbot Agathon lay dying his eyes were fixed for three whole days, as if he were in a trance. The brethren who were with him touched him to awaken him, and said, “Father, where are you now?” He replied, “I stand gazing at the God who judges me.” Then the brethren said, “Surely you are not afraid.” He answered them, “While I was with you on earth, as far as in me lay, I strove to obey the commandments of God. Yet I am but a man, and now I am not sure-how can I be sure?—that the things I did were really pleasing in God’s sight.” The brethren said, “have you no confidence that your deeds were in accordance with the will of God?” He replied, “I have no confidence now that I am standing in the sight of God. Man judges about what is right and wrong. That is one judgment. God also judges what is right and wrong. His judgment is another and different.”

III

The glorious vision of the abbot Sisois in the hour of death.

Many elders gathered round the abbot Sisois when the time of his falling asleep came to him. They saw his face shining with a wondrous radiance, and he said to them, “Lo, the abbot Antony is coming to me.” After a little while he said, “The company of the prophets is along with him.” Then his face shone with a brighter light, amid he said, “The blessed apostles are beside me.” It seemed, then, to those who stood by as if he spoke to someone, and they asked him to tell them with whom he talked. He said, “The angels have come to bear away my soul, and I am asking them to grant me yet a little while for penitence.” Then the fathers said to him, “Surely you have no need of penitence?” But he replied, “Verily I say to you that I have never yet grasped even the beginning of true penitence.” Then they felt that in him the fear of God was indeed perfected. Suddenly his face was lighted with all the splendour of the sun, and he cried out to them, “Behold, behold my brethren, the Lord Himself is come to me.” Then while he spoke these words, his spirit fled, and all the place was filled with a sweet smell.

IV

The words of Theophilus the Archbishop, which he spoke in the hour of death.

Theophilus the Archbishop, of blessed memory, when he was about to depart, said, “Blessed art thou,

Arsenius, for thou hast always had this hour before thine eyes.”

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The Wonders of Everyday Life

FROM “THOUGHTS FOR ALL TIMES” BY MGR. J. VAUGHAN

INDEX

Suppose, then, that some unknown person were to come to us from another world, and producing a small vessel should say: “Here is a small oval box or receptacle made out of lime, and filled with a thickish viscid or glutinous substance. Keep it carefully for a few weeks in a warm and even temperature, and I undertake to say that, without any further attention on your part, it will gradually transform itself into a superb gold chronometer, with dial, hands, main-spring and hair-spring, lever escapement, and everything complete. Every wheel will be in its place and in ceaseless motion. Each hinge, rivet, screw and other accessory part will be carefully formed and placed in position. The whole will constitute a watch, ticking merrily all the day, and registering the time at each succeeding moment.” Such a supposition is enough to make one smile. One instinctively exclaims, “What nonsense! What a ludicrous idea! How extravagantly foolish; and, above all, how absolutely impossible.” If, indeed, such a promise were really made, we should be inclined to think (1) either that the stranger was stark mad; or (2) that it was a piece of mere clever juggling; or, if the promised result did indeed take place, that (3) a miracle of a very extraordinary kind had been wrought.

Yet, strange though it may seem, what is happening continually in nature is very analogous to what I have supposed. What we may actually see taking place in the animal world is very similar indeed to what has been described, only immeasurably more extraordinary, immeasurably more mysterious, and-but for the fact that we can actually witness the whole process for ourselves-we should certainly say, immeasurably more impossible!

A watch is a beautiful thing; a complicated thing; a thing of many parts, admirably put together and most cunningly devised and adjusted. But a bird is immeasurably more beautiful, immeasurably more complicated, and a creature of a far greater number of most elaborate parts, far more exquisitely put together.

Take the egg of any bird you please, let us say a goldfinch. When first laid by the hen, what is it but (1) an oval receptacle or box formed of lime or other calcareous matter; or, in plain English, a shell; and (2) filled with a thickish viscid glutinous substance? This substance is structureless and shapeless, and, for the most part, almost colourless; yet, keep it in a suitable temperature for a few weeks and it will become gradually transformed by the power of God acting through natural laws; not, indeed, into a watch, no; but into what is infinitely more admirable and estimable, viz., into a living, breathing, sentient bird. Within the fragile shell, no thicker than your nail, changes and transformations are being gradually wrought, so singular and mysterious, that I know not to what I can compare them, unless it be to the changes that the earth went through during the six days of creation, when God brooded over the face of the deep, and drew order and symmetry out of chaos. A living being is being formed. The bones of leg and wing, the spinal column with all its articulations, the skull and pointed beak and sharp claws emerge, as if by magic, from out the liquid mass. Not only is each brittle bone beautifully fashioned, exquisitely finished, and polished as smooth as ivory-each different, yet all correlated-but they are knit together and adjusted with the utmost precision and harmony, and built up, without hands, not anyhow, not at haphazard, but according to a distinct and definite plan. Then without as much disturbance as would suffice to fracture the film of shell, flesh and skin clothe and envelop the entire skeleton; while throughout the whole there run innumerable channels and secret passages and ducts carrying arterial and venous blood from one extremity to the other. Invisible fingers are still moulding the beautiful form of the bird, and arranging its interior organs of nutrition and digestion, and forming that marvellous pneumatic pump, the heart, on the strictest scientific principles, which is to keep forcing the blood circulating throughout the whole organism year after year, without cessation, so long as life lasts.

Still the work proceeds. The original viscid glutinous liquid is all that the shell contains, or has ever contained. From it, therefore, and from naught else, is drawn the gorgeous plumage that is to be the glory of the bird. The wings are supplied with long, light, pointed feathers, suitable for flight, and the breast is coated with softest down of many brilliant colours. All is daintily finished, delicately tinted, and Divinely made. Digitus Dei est hic. Yet, observe. The fragile shell is still intact. No fresh material has been introduced. All-bones, muscles, veins, blood, brain, skull, beak, claws, down, feathers, liver, heart, lungs, etc.-have been constructed out of the same simple structureless liquid albumen, mucus, cellsubstance, or protoplasm-call it what you will.

Place your ear gently against the shell. Listen. Can you hear the great Artist at work? Can you detect any sound of implement or tool while the transformation is going on? Where but a short time ago there was nothing but a transparent liquid, we now find that the most wondrous and complex objects and organs have been manufactured. The eyes so bright, clear and penetrating of the imprisoned bird, though made for light, have been constructed in darkness, and from the simple protoplasm. And consider what this means. For though the eye is but one organ, and a comparatively insignificant one, yet what a complicated thing it is. It includes the pupil, the sclerotic, the cornea, the iris, the crystalline lens, the vitreous humour, the ciliary processes, choroid coat, the retina, with the various blood-vessels which feed it, and the muscles which move it and adjust it, etc. Yet all are there, and in their proper positions. So of all else, the wings so swift and true and light, the throat and lungs and vocal chords, all accurately attuned and prepared within the silent shell, await but its breaking, to emerge into the light of day, and to discourse soft sounds over hill and dale. All is being completed within that miniature universe. All is there. Nothing has been forgotten. Matter enough, but no more than enough, has been stored within the shell for the construction of every limb, organ and muscle, and all else down to the smallest fragment of down that goes to complete the perfection of the bird. At last the shell breaks. The viscid fluid has disappeared, and in its place a bird darts forth instinct with life; with glancing eyes, and flapping wings, and palpitating heart, and with a throat eloquent with song and softly warbled harmonies.

What a strange and wonderful history! What a stupendous miracle of Divine power and wisdom! Talk of mystery! Talk of the incomprehensible! Well, here in this familiar phenomenon we are confronted with a whole world of unsearchable mysteries. And so far from disappearing or diminishing as we inquire more searchingly and investigate more minutely, they rather become more insoluble and unfathomable. Nay, if we have not yet been startled at the sight of these and similar transformations, is it not just precisely because we have not paused to consider them attentively, but passed them heedlessly by? and because custom has dulled our minds, and because what is perpetually going on and repeating itself for ever and ever, fails to provoke attention or even to excite inquiry? For what is the fact? The undeniable fact is, that all creation is palpitating with mystery. Not a cubic inch of earth, air or water, but contains enough to bewilder and confound the most enlightened intelligence. We live and breathe in an atmosphere of mystery. Above and below and around us lie unexplored and inexplorable depths-depths which defy all human soundings, and into whose dark and unexplored recesses man gazes fearfully and tremulously, but always in vain. What do I say? Around him? Below him? Why even within him mystery dwells. Man is to himself the most bewildering of enigmas. Whence come life, motion and sensation? What is life? What are thought and imagination? What is memory which binds the past with the present, and links together in one co-ordinate whole the experience of many eventful years?

What is sleep, that sometimes shuts up sor row’s eye, that steeps our senses in forgetfulness, and steals us awhile from our own company? Surely a strange and mysterious thing. And dreams-what are they, and whence do they arise? Whence come those strange and wondrous scenes, the phantasmagoria that pass and repass before the closed eyes of the sleeper, with all the vividness and speaking impressiveness of waking life; that call back the forms of the dead and the absent, and repeople earth with long-forgotten images of friends and foes! In the somniant state the sleeper sees clearly and basks in the sunshine, though all the time he may be really buried in an Egyptian darkness: he hears sounds and converses with his friends though he rests in truth in unbroken silence; and even though his limbs lie motionless in his bed, he may still be fighting battles, scaling mountains, or fording rivers. He is the sport of fancy, the plaything of hallucinations. In sleep he is, and he is not; at once all things and nothing. What is sleep? The echo answers, What? We are left to wonder and surmise.

Thus, question after question suggests itself to the inquiring mind, but for never a one is there an answer forthcoming. And, as it is with the mind, so it is with the body. Why does a child grow and develop till it reaches manhood, and then stop, to grow no higher? Why is one pair of eyes brown and another blue? Why is one infant masculine and the other feminine? and how is the relative proportion of the sexes preserved throughout the world, and throughout the ages?

So, again, how is life maintained by food and drink? and by what marvellous process is the same food transformed into such wholly different things as blood and bone, artery and nerve, muscle and tendon, skin and hair, teeth and nails? And by what means is each portion of the organism (qua organism) built up, distributed and maintained in activity; and how is each instructed to discharge its own peculiar functions?

We need not to be told that scientific men have affixed learned names to every natural process, and have carefully labelled every phenomenon. For that means nothing. Anybody can give a thing a name. Yet many seem to forget, or at least fail to realise, that to name is not to explain. To label a mystery is not to solve it. A score of learned terms and definitions will not suffice to throw a bridge, even of gossamer, across an impassable gulf., If I refrain from suggesting further difficulties, it is by no means because I have exhausted my stock, but merely because space is limited.

We will conclude, then, with the remark that, to look out upon this material earth, and to fully realise how mysterious is every object in it (as soon as we probe the least degree beneath the surface), teaches us a profound lesson. It proves to us how singularly weak and puny a thing is the human mind itself; it shows us how straitened and confined is our knowledge of even the simplest things; and throws us into a disposition proper and fitting to receive with reverence and docility the incomprehensible truths of revelation. God is the infinitely Incomprehensible, dwelling in light inaccessible; and all His works have an element of the incomprehensible in them. But the higher we rise in the scale of creation the more profound do these mysteries become. Their high-water mark is reached when, transcending the natural altogether, we enter into the supernatural regions of grace and glory.

But of these we will deal another time.

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The World Into Which Christ Was Born

BY REV. J. A. O’FLYNN, L.S.S

INDEX

The Gospels: Their Message and Credibility-I.

The main purpose of this series of booklets is to examine two points of particular interest which arise from the study of the four canonical Gospels, or, as they are usually called, the Gospels according to SS. Matthew, Mark, Luke and John. What is the specific story or message concerning Christ and His teaching which the Gospels have left us? Are we to accept that story as a trustworthy account of actual events of history, or, on the contrary, to reject it as a fiction and a fraud? It is with these two questions that we shall be chiefly concerned in these booklets.

The importance of determining the correct answer to these questions can scarcely be exaggerated. If, as the Gospels tell us, Christ is the divine Saviour of mankind, no one may adopt an attitude of indifference or neutrality to Him or to His teaching. No event of history is even remotely comparable in significance with the coming of Christ, and upon the attitude which men adopt towards Him depend issues which can be measured only in terms of eternity. For person’s who are groping for the light, or for Catholics who are liable to be brought into contact with such people, a general knowledge of the evidence which goes to show that the Gospels are reliable records, is of very considerable importance. Such knowledge will enable Catholics to show the reasonableness of their own position. As St. Peter has it, they will the “always ready to give an answer to everyone who demands an account of the hope which is in them.” (I Peter. c. 3. v. 15.) If unbelievers, who are seriously engaged in the search for the truth, can be brought to see the reasonableness of the claim that, on purely scientific, literary and historical evidence, apart from other considerations, the Gospels have a solid title to be regarded as trustworthy documents, they will have made a notable advance in the solution of their difficulties.

In the series of booklets here introduced the discussion of the various relevant topics will be necessarily brief. It is hoped, however, that it will be adequate for the immediate purpose of showing that the case for the truth of the Gospels is a strong one; that it is based on tangible scientific evidence of the kind which satisfies scholars in the examination of other ancient documents; that, in fact, the rejection of the Gospels cannot be justified by any allegation of insufficiency, either in the quantity or quality of the evidence, but is due to philosophical prejudice which, from the outset, refuses to admit the possibility of the supernatural and, consequently, rejects as unhistorical the Gospel account of miracles and of the Incarnation of the Son of God.

In order to avoid confusion, it should be noted carefully that we are not here concerned with the general doctrine of biblical Inspiration, nor with its application to the Gospels. We consider the Gospels as documents which have come down to us from antiquity, liable to be subjected to the same rigorous scientific examination as other ancient documents, e.g., The Annals of Tacitus, The Histories of Thucydides, which claim to deal with historical facts rather than with legend, myth or poetic fancy. We claim, however, that the same scientific standards, which are adopted to distinguish fact from legend and myth in other ancient documents, should be applied with equal impartiality in the case of the Gospels. The issue in which we are principally interested, viz., the truth or falsehood of the Gospels, is one which can be discussed quite independently of any theological doctrine concerning the sacred character of these books. All that is needed is an unprejudiced attitude, and a willingness to accept, in the case of the Gospels, evidence which would be considered entirely satisfactory in the case of other historical documents. While no special favour is sought for the Gospels, it must be insisted that they should not be subjected to purely a priori criticism of a kind which finds no place in the examination of other ancient documents which purport to give a narrative of fact.

Most readers will be familiar with the broad outlines of the Gospel story, and will also have some acquaintance with the actual text of the Gospels themselves. Considered as literature they come under the heading of biography. Although they may not conform precisely to the definition of biography as we use that term in modern times, they are definitely biographical in character. They tell much of the Story of the life and teaching of the figure known to history as Christ or Jesus of Nazareth. They do not give a complete, nor a strictly chronological account, but they do give an outline of what may be regarded as the items of greatest significance from that life and history.

This narrative concerning Christ is set against the background of life in Palestine at a time when that country had come under the dominion of Rome. Our knowledge of the general conditions of life, as well as the great figures and events of that age, is extensive, and is constantly being added to as a result of the thorough-going studies of modern scholars. Assuming for the moment the historicity of the Gospels, we can place all the events which they record within the limits of the period 10 A.D. Between these two extremes there is ample room: for some differences of opinion about the exact dates to be assigned for the birth and the death of Christ. The Gospels, therefore, have as historical setting that period of Roman history when Augustus and Tiberius ruled. Both Emperors are mentioned in the Gospels. (Luke c.2. v.1; c.3. v.1.) The same is true of members of the Herodian dynasty of Palestine, rulers whose history is well known to us from the writings of Josephus. The high priests, Annas and Caiaphas, and the parties of the Sadducees and Pharisees who figure so prominently in the Gospel account of the opposition to Our Lord, are also well known to us from contemporary records. In fact, there is scarcely a page of the Gospels which does not reflect in some way the political conditions, or the prevalent social, ethical and religious ideas within the Roman Empire, and more particularly within Palestine and among the Jewish people, at the period to which the Gospel narrative belongs. Time and again, we find that a knowledge of the historical background enables us to understand more fully portions of the narrative, or passages from the teaching of Our Lord, the full implications of which would otherwise escape us, e.g., the question put to Our Lord: “Is it lawful to pay tribute to Caesar?,” the teaching of Christ on marriage and divorce, the account of the trial and crucifixion of Our Lord. These are but a few of the very many instances which might be cited to show how closely the Gospels bring us into contact with the laws, customs and beliefs of the world in which their story has its setting. There can be no doubt, therefore, of the value of a knowledge of the historical background for a thorough understanding of the Gospels. It may be added that belief in the reliability of the Gospels receives no slight confirmation from the accuracy with which they reflect contemporary conditions, as these are known to us from independent historical research.

Some writers, of course, under the influence of the theory of progressive evolution in religious ideas and practices, have ought to show that Christianity is nothing more than an easy natural development from the conditions prevailing at the beginning of the Christian era. This development, they say, would have been accelerated somewhat by the high ethical teaching and personal qualities of Christ, Who is looked upon merely as a man, a distinguished prophet or teacher of a high code of morality, but not the Messiah or the Son of God. According to these writers, the picture of Christ and His teaching which the Gospels give us must be regarded as the result of a period of pious speculation and hero-worship whereby Jesus of Nazareth was transformed (in the minds of his followers) from a mere man into the promised Messiah and eventually into a divine person incarnate. According to this theory, the Gospels are not so much a record of fact as a reflection of popular belief in the period 50–100 A.D.

In order to put the problem in proper perspective, and provide a suitable background for our discussion of the Message and Credibility of the Gospels, the first booklets of this series will be devoted mainly to an outline of conditions in the political, social and religious spheres within the Roman Empire, and particularly in Palestine and among the Jews at the the beginning of the Christian era. This sketch of The World into which Christ was born will pay special attention to those elements which have, or might be considered to have, a particular bearing on the origin of Christianity, or are of interest for the question of the credibility of the Gospels.

At the outset, it may be necessary to rid our minds of some misconceptions. The period to which the story of the Gospels belongs is so far removed from our own age, that we may be disposed to regard it as culturally and intellectually backward as well as historically remote. But the detailed knowledge now available of the Augustan age, and of the men and women who lived in it, tends to show that the Roman Empire bears striking resemblances to some empires of our own day. In fact, it is often helpful to visualize modern imperial methods when we wish to bring home more vividly the conditions of life within the empire of the Caesars. Imperial Rome was distinguished by a unified political administration and an ease of communication which was really remarkable for those days; the educated classes took a deep interest in philosophical speculation; writing flourished; humanitarianism, of a kind, was not unknown; between the upper and lower classes there was a veritable chasm in social conditions. All of these things have a familiar, even modern, ring, and go to show that conditions in imperial Rome are not too remote, nor too primitive, to have any interest for men of the twentieth century.

Political Conditions. -At the period in which we are interested the Roman Empire extended from France to Egypt, and from Spain to the borders of Persia. That great empire had been formed over a long period of time, mainly by wars of conquest. And now, at the beginning of the Christian era, after a long succession of civil wars which had ravaged Italy itself, this vast territory was settling down to enjoy, under the Emperor Augustus, the blessings of a period of calm, in which constructive ideas of order, justice and peace were very definitely to the fore. It was the most brilliant period of Roman history up to that time, an age of really outstanding achievement. Clear proof that the greatness of the political achievement of Augustus and the benefits his rule conferred on the subject territories were recognised and appreciated, is found in that emperor-worship which began during his lifetime and led ultimately to his apotheosis.

The administration of the imperial territories was unified under the supreme power of the Emperor. The personal financial independence of Augustus, combined with the immense power concentrated in his hands, made it possible for him to legislate for the benefit of the empire as a whole. No longer were the subject territories considered merely as convenient places for pillage by Roman officials, or merely as granaries to meet the needs of Rome and Italy. In all subject territories, whether imperial or senatorial provinces, as well as in districts where allied or subject kings were left in control, the power of the Emperor was supreme. Palestine, at the time of Christ, was ruled partially as a protectorate with members of the Herodian family in immediate control, partially as a district of the province of Syria with a Governor to represent the Emperor. The city of Rome was the chief centre of political, administrative and flourishing commercial life. Closely allied with this unity of administration was the excellent system of communication both, by road and by sea. To illustrate the point, there is the story of the merchant from Phrygia in Asia Minor who made no less than 70 business journeys to Rome. This relative ease of communication helps us to understand how St. Paul, later on, was able to cover so much ground on his missionary journeys in a comparatively short space of time.

It is generally agreed that the administrative unity and ease of communication in the Roman Empire had a certain importance by way of preparation for Christianity. The conquests of Alexander, and the Hellenistic movement which he had inaugurated, had broken down the local patriotism and narrow nationalism of an earlier age. The idea of a common culture, a unified civilization with the Greek tongue spoken everywhere as a lingua franca, had been largely translated into reality over the districts conquered by Alexander and ruled by his successors. While this idea of a universal culture is rightly regarded as something distinctively Greek, unified political administration can be regarded as a Roman contribution. Both elements had their importance in the preparation of the world for Christianity. The notion that humanity consisted of isolated groups, with little in common and much to keep them separated and at enmity, had begun to yield to a wider outlook wherein all men were capable of being brought under a single culture and a single governmnent. In this way the world was being prepared for the doctrine of the universal brotherhood of men, a contribution which is, of course, distinctively Christian.

Social and Ethical Conditions. -While the value of the Roman contribution, through its administrative system, to the progress of humanity generally, and also by way of preparation for Christianity, is recognised universally, a survey of social and ethical conditions gives us a picture of more sombre hues. Historians, as a rule, give a very dismal account of the prevailing standards in social and moral matters. There were, undoubtedly, abuses of the gravest character, some of them widespread, others confined mostly to the upper classes and to the wealthy. But there is evidence also that many of the natural virtues were appreciated and practised by that section of the community whieh rarely achieves notoriety or fame in any age. Both sides of the question must be kept in mind if we are to form a balanced picture of the situation as a whole.

In any account of social conditions in the Roman Empire the institution of slavery must hold a prominent place. The population was divided into ‘free’ and ‘slave.’ The slave, from the legal point of view, was scarcely a person or human being at all. He was a mere chattel or piece of property, just like the irrational animals owned by his master, and was often treated with much less consideration. The greatest rigour and cruelty were permitted in the treatment of slaves. If a master were murdered, all of his slaves could be put to death. In Rome itself slaves outnumbered the free population. Many slaves were persons of culture and education, unfortunate victims of war or piracy sold to masters who, judged by any decent human standards, were, frequently, their inferiors in everything except the possesion of wealth and power. It is true that, from time to time, voices were raised against the cruelty of this institution, and that some masters treated their slaves with kindness. Slaves were sometimes granted their freedom, and of those set free some attained the highest posts in civil administration. But it is unquestionable that the system was a degrading one, that it had the most deplorable consequences for morality, and that it contributed in some degree to the disintegration of the empire itself.

Among that section of the population which was classed as free, there were many distinctions based on wealth and social rank. The privilege of Roman citizenship was not enjoyed by all the free population. It was a highly prized and jealously guarded right, which was extended outside Rome and Italy only as a special reward or favour to individuals or communities. Not until the year 212 A.D., by a decree of the Emperor Carcalla, was this right extended to all free subjects of the Empire. St. Paul, a native of Tarsus, had the good fortune to possess this privilege. His citizenship saved him more than once from indignities at the hands of Roman officials, and from the fury of the Jews who sought his death by any means at their disposal.

Next to slavery, possibly the most inhuman and debasing element of life under Roman rule was to be found in the so-called games of the amphitheatre. These gladiatorial shows, in which men fought to the death with beasts or with one another, tended, with the passage of time, to become more and more colossal displays of savagery and inhumanity.

The fact that the passion for these spectacles pervaded every class of society, and that they were one of the recognized methods of keeping the populace contented, gives us an insight into the appallingly low ethical standards of those who provided and enjoyed the shows of the amphitheatre. It is a curious irony of history that among the most tangible remains of an age that was, in many ways, one of great achievement, should be those very amphitheatres, e.g., The Colosseum in Rome, where such senseless carnage often lasted for days. Leaky has said that the continuance for centuries, almost without protest, of these games, is one of the most striking facts in moral history.

Slavery and the amphitheatre are dark blots on Roman history and remind us of the depths to which even a cultured people are capable of descending. They do not, however, exhaust the list of vices and defects which can be placed in the scale against the mighty achievements in practically every field of human endeavour, which have made the name of Rome immortal. Rome had a full quota of the faults which are liable to manifest themselves in a state, flushed with conquest, which is passing from the hard period of establishing its power to the peaceful enjoyment of the fruits of victory. The marriage bond was not universally respected nor adequately protected by law. Divorce was easy and resorted to frequently. With this instability of marriage went a host of other evils. The efforts of the Emperor to secure reform by legal enactments of various kinds are an indication of the extent to which abuses in connection with marriage and family life had begun to undermine society. Unwanted shildren, even those born in wedlock, were often exposed to death. There were frequent instances of other, and even more shameful, crimes. The theatre of the day contributed its quota to the demoralizing influences at work. Secular history thus confirms that account of pagan immorality which St. Paul has left us in his letter to the Romans, c.1. v.32. “God abandoned them to a reprobate mind so as to do what is unbecoming; being filled with all wickedness, malice, greed, badness; full of envy, murder, strife, deceit, malignity; tale-bearers, slanderers; haters of God, insolent, haughty; pretentious, inventors of vices, disobedience to parents; senseless, perfidious, heartless, merciless;-.”

As a contributory cause to this loss of moral sense, we must attach some importance to the widespread lack of belief in any real survival of man after death. Cicero, Horace, Sallusat, Catullus and other writers give evidence of fairly widely disseminated scepticism on this point. The inscriptions on the tombs of the dead also add their testimony to the fact that many lived for this life and cared but little for the hereafter, e.g., “I was not, I became, I am not, I care not.” “While I lived, I lived well; now my little play is ended, soon shall yours be.” “While I lived, I drank as I pleased; you who live, drink.” “What I have eaten and drank, that I take with me; what I have left behind, that I have forfeited.” Here we are brought into close touch with one of the reasons for the decline in morality; and we also get an insight into the causes of that feeling of hopelessness and aimlessness which some writers consider to be characteristic of the period in question. Historians also draw attention to the depressing sense of sin and guilt, of which the reflecting minds of the period became increasingly conscious. Seneca, one of the most attractive figures from the pagan world of the first century, has the following striking passage in a work written about the year 60 A.D. : “We have all sinned: the fashion in vice may change, its reign is as powerful as ever : we are wicked, have been wicked and shall continue to be wicked.” These are the reflections of an enquiring and philosophic mind, the thoughts of a man whose moral sense had not been completely dulled by contract with a corrupt world. The concise expression used by St. Paul to describe the pagan world-”they were men without hope and without God in the world” (Ephesians c.2. v.12)-sums up their condition.

On the credit side, there is considerable evidence of practical civic pride and patriotic devotion to the welfare of city or state. We know also that marital and family affection and loyalty still influenced many lives, and that other natural virtues were esteemed and put into practice. In this connection, it has been noted that the Stoic philosophy, with its insistence on the need for the practice of the virtues and the duty of self-control, had exercised a genuinely beneficial influence, even though Stoicism was, in the last analysis, a philosophy of despair which approved of suicide. The protests made from time to time against the social and moral evils which were undermining society and destroying what was best in the Roman Character, and the various attempts to secure reform, also deserve mention. They show that, despite widespread corruption, there were still some who were neither completely insensitive to moral values, nor blind to the fact that the prestige and continued welfare of Rome were gravely imperilled by the serious disorders in social and individual life.

The last century of the pre-Christian era was one of flourishing activity, a period in which the Roman genius reached a high level of achievemenit in law, administration, literature, architecture and engineering. It is generally recognized that, in these spheres, Rome made contributions of permanent value which have placed the whole civilized world in its debt. The value of the literary and cultural legacy bequeathed to the world by Roman writers of that century is too well known to need extensive treatment here. Virgil and Horace, chief ornaments of the Augustan age of literature, are still, as Mackail notes, “the schoolbooks and the companions of the whole world; forming the mind of youth, and yielding more and more of their secret to prolonged study and inveterate acquaintance.” The writings of Virgil, “the noblest poet of the Roman tongue,” give striking expressions to the hopes aroused by the establishment of peace and order. Virgil deserves, in a special way, the title “poet of Imperial Rome,” because, more than any other writer of the age, he manifests a sense of the high dignity of the Roman state and of the role which Rome should play in the world. It was for Rome “to rule the nations,” “to establish the settled ways of peace, to deal gently with subject peoples, to vanquish the proud.” The rule of Augustus marked the return of the golden age, and the beginning of an era of universal peace under the dominion of Rome. A well-known passage from the fourth Eclogue of Virgil, sometimes referred to as the messianic Eclogue, contains a remarkable expression of the poet’s hopes, and of his exalted conception of the part which the Roman state was called upon to play in world history.- ‘Now is come the last age of the song of Cumae; the great line of the centuries begins anew. Now the virgin (Justice) returns, the reign of Saturn returns; now a new generation descends from heaven on high . . . And in thy consulship, Pollio, shall this glorious age begin, and the mighty months begin their march; under thy sway, any lingering traces of our guilt shall become void, and release the earth from its continual dread.” (Trans. Fairclough). The optimism of Virgil is a refreshing change from the prevailing cynicism and depression, and sharp contrast to the verdict which, one hundred years later, the historian Tacous passed upon the Imperial rule-”The wrath of the gods upon the Roman State.”

Virgil and Horace stand out from their contemporaries, but they are not the only distinguished authors of an age which produced numerous writers catering in prose and verse for the varied literary tastes of the public. Nor did the cultured and educated classes confine their interest to a merely aesthetic appreciation of literature. From the middle of the second century B.C., philosophy had been enjoying increasing attention. Greece, of course, had been the home of philosophy for centuries, and her thinkers had made a contribution of outstanding merit to philosophical enquiry, showing a capacity for original and profound speculation which the Romans never equalled. The Romans were content, on the whole, to accept their philosophy at second-hand, and in this sphere, more than any other, they remained the disciples and imitators of the conquered Greeks who had become their teachers. With the progressive decline of polytheistic religion, and its manifest inability to give satisfactory answers to vital questions concerning the meaning of life, the regulation of human conduct, the fate of man after death etc., reflecting minds naturally turned to philosophy in search of the light and guidance of which they felt the need. All the well-known schools of philosophy had their advocates and won some measure of support; but it was the Stoic philosophy which had the greatest influence and the largest following. This is not altogether surprising, because the ideal of conduct propounded by the Stoics was one which appeared to be particularly suited to Roman temperament and tradition. The picture of the true Stoic, practising the virtues and capable of rising superior to external changes of fortune, was bound to make a strong appeal to those who revered the traditional Roman virtues of gravity, dignified restraint in adversity as in prosperity, and piety, due discharge of duties to families, kindred, state and the gods. It is not to be supposed that the general body of the population was deeply interested in the teaching of the different schools of thought. While some attempt was made to reach the common people. it was mainly within the fairly narrow limits of cultured Roman society that persons were to be found with the capacity to take an enlightened interest in philosophical discussion. The majority, apart from those who had lapsed into practical atheism or scepticism, held on to the ancient beliefs, or were won over to newer and more seductive forms of religious belief and worship.

This brief sketch is sufficient to indicate that Roman society at the end of the pre-Christian era presented some remarkable contrasts. High ideals and notable achievement in many spheres were to be found side by side with moral degradation and social disorder. But even taking into account every element of good which historians have been able to detect, and making full allowance for the abiding worth of the Roman contribution to human progress, the general picture is not bright. The prevailing standards in ethical and social matters were law, and neither appeals to ancient tradition nor legislative reforms were able to check the steady moral decline and corruption of society.

Religious Ideals and Practices. -The religious conditions which obtained within the Roman empire at this time might be regarded as the root-cause of the widespread corruption of society. In the absence of a firm conviction of the existence of a Supreme Being who sanctions the moral law, it is vain to hope for the general maintenance of high moral standards. Rome was now in a transition period when the traditional beliefs were going by the board. At an earlier stage, religious duties centred mainly on the worship of the domestic gods and the cult of those deities who were looked upon as the founders or protecting patrons of the city or state. But this narrow concept of the deities, as mere domestic or local patrons and guardians, broke down before the philosophy of the Greeks; and the consequent tendency towards scepticism increased with the ever widening horizons opened up by the conquests of Alexander the Great and of Rome.

In the New Testament period the official attitude of the ruling power in Rome was one of tolerance for all religions of subject peoples, provided that these religions were prepared, in turn, to extend similar toleration to other religions. This official recognition of a whole pantheon of deities, however admirable as a political expedient designed to avoid clashes with subject races, inevitably drew attention to the irrational basis of polytheistic religion, and this accelerated still further the disintegrating process which had set in. Moreover, the stories of the exploits of pagan gods, which had become part of mythology and the stock-in-trade of poets, were frequently of a character not calculated to edify. It is true that Stoicism had done something to introduce a purer and more elevated concept of the deity; but it is hardly surprising that, once the essential weakness of polytheism had been brought to light, men tended to atheism and scepticism rather than to the formation of a more correct idea of a Supreme Being who ruled the whole world. There were some, of course, who still clung to the beliefs and rites of their fathers and were encouraged in that attitude by official attempts to give a now lease of life to the ancient religion of Rome. This loyalty, however, and the respect for ancient tradition which inspired it, proved unequal to the task of maintaining the prestige and influence of the ancient cults against the attacks of philosophy and the attractions of newer forms of worship.

As a result of the general policy of tolerance, many new religions found their way to Rome itself. Most notable of these were the mystery religions of the East, e.g., the mysteries of Isis, Cybele, Orpheus and Eleusis. There is considerable uncertainty about the exact history of these cults and the precise nature of their rites; but it would appear that they began as “fertility rites,” which were concerned with the constantly recurring cycle of death and re-birth in nature. At a later stage of their history they held out to those who had been duly initiated, the prospect of some kind of purification and the hope of happiness after death. This probably goes a long way towards explaining the popularity which they achieved-they provided a way of escape from the depression and sense of guilt which appear to have weighed heavily on many minds of the age. The rites of the mystery religions had, moreover, an emotional appeal not found in the traditional forms of worship. But it is to be remembered that the celebration of the mysteries was often merely a cloak for wild orgiastic ceremonies of an utterly immoral kind. The mystery religions were alien to the Roman character, and their harmful influence was recognised by Augustus, who made a vain attempt to check their growth.

Another factor to note in this rather complicated religious situation is the development of “emperor-worship.” The first movements appear to have come from the population of certain of the eastern provinces who had long been accustomed to some form of ruler-worship. In Greece, it had long been the custom to speak of men of distinction, or great public benefactors, as somehow equal to the gods. In Rome itself there was a strong tradition of veneration for ancestors and a tendency to exalt the memory of the great heroes of the past. The benefits conferred on the imperial territories by the rule of Augustus were so unmistakeable that it was an easy step to bestow upon him titles such as ‘saviour’ and ‘god,’ and to found temples and institute worship in his honour. Allowance must, of course, be made for some element of exaggeration and flattery in all this. But it is clear that, in origin at least, the cult of the emperor, far from being mere adulation, was a sincere manifestation of the feelings of hope and gratitude aroused by the restoration of order and peace. Augustus was quick to see the political advantages that might be expected to accrue to the Empire and to himself from this worship. It would serve as a new bond letween the different parts of the Empire; and, when associated with the worship of the goddess Rama, promote the interests of the imperial house. Emperor-worship was at all times largely political in its significance, even though it took on the usual external formalities of religious worship. Many Christians were destined to suffer for their refusal to participate in the usual sacrifices to the divinity of the emperor.

By way of conclusion to this outline it may be appropriate to touch upon the general question of the relation of the Roman Empire to Christianity. Was the empire in any sense a preparation for Christianity? Were conditions in the Roman world such that the Christian economy could have developed naturally from them? What was the attitude of the Roman power to the Christian religion? The thesis that the Roman empire, by its very existence and organization, facilitated the preaching of the Gospel and the growth of the Church is one which few will be disposed to question. Rome had done much to break down national barriers. The system of communications which had been built up within the limits of Roman rule made travel comparatively easy and secure. The widespread knowledge of the Greek tongue was a further advantage to those whose message was for men of every race and nation. In brief, the Roman empire had removed a number of material obstacles to the spread of Christianity; and, moreover, in its political, social and administrative structure, it provided a unique framework for the building up of a supranational Church. It is not surprising that Christian writers have always been attracted by the contention first put forward by Melito of Sardis in the second century, in an apologia directed to the emperor, Marcus Aurelius that it was Divine Providence which had arranged that such a system should have come into existence precisely at the time when the Christian religion was about to be preached.

To what extent was the Roman world mentally prepared for the Christian message? Roman dominion would, no doutht, have suggested to some the notion of a world-wide kingdom, and have strengthened the concept of common bonds between men. Philosophy had shown the weakness of polytheism and of the traditional beliefs, but as an alternative to some form of religious belief and worship, had failed to satisfy men’s minds and hearts. Conditions in the ethical sphere served only to show the weakness of men whose only moral guidance comes from tradition and reason. Possibly all this should be regarded as a negative preparation for a religion which would give clear teaching concerning One true God and His relations to men, together with guidance and strength to observe the moral law. Obviously, the Roman world was not one which would take easily to the high moral standards of Christianity. For certain classes, e.g., slaves, the Gospel brought a message of hope, not by proclaiming the immediate abolition of slavery, but by the promise of eternal life, and by teaching that all men, bond and free, are equal as sons of God and brothers of Christ. The Christian doctrine of One God Who lays down and sanctions the moral law would be a light to thinkers who had failed to find in the schools of philosophy a satisfactory answer to any of the great problems of life. The doctrine of the forgiveness of sin was bound to make a wide appeal; and the prospect of eternal happiness would compensate in some measure for the woes of this present life. But the history of the early Church shows that the transition from paganism to Christianity was anything but easy. The fundamental doctrine of spiritual salvation through the death of Christ upon the cross was, as St. Paul tells us, “a folly to the pagans.” The moral code of Christianity made very serious demands upon persons accustomed to an almost unbridled reign of vice; and the power of Rome was, from an early date, directed to the repression of the new religion. Neither as a system of philosophy, nor as a code of high moral teaching, would Christianity have sufficed to convert the world from paganism. In that process the finger of God, manifested in miracles, and the blood of the martyrs, had to play their part.

It is useful to keep this outline of Roman conditions in mind. The full significance of the Message of the Gospels will be all the more evident when contrasted with the confusion of ideas and the low moral standards, which characterized this great empire, great in its own right and heir to all the glory and achievement of the Greeks.

Nihil Obstat :

RECCAREDUS FLEMING,

Censor Theol. Deput,

Imprimi Potest:

@ IOANNES CAROLUS

Hiberniae Primas. Dublini, dieº 22 Nov., anno° 1945.

********

The Young Lady Says No!

TO A MIXED MARRIAGE

WILLIAM P. O’KEEFE, C.M

INDEX

Nuala is a young lady of my acquaintance-and her name is about all that is really fictitious in what I shall tell of her. Here, in part, is a letter she sent me a week ago:

“My dear Father,

“For some time past I have been friendly with a very nice young man of about my own age and social standing. But alas, Father, how tragic; he is not a Catholic.

“From the moment we met we felt drawn to each other. In all our likes and dislikes, all our ideals and ambitions, in everything you might say, we are eminently suited. We have everything in common-everything that is, but the one thing that matters most to me: Religion.

“Recently we talked it over, and I am glad to say that he, no less than I. is no believer in Mixed Marriages. We think they are too difficult to work. If we married as we are, he is a devout Anglican, and I a pick-this-adjective yourself Catholic, there would be forever too much holding us apart.”

“So we agreed that it is not quite fair to God or to ourselves to continue a courtship under these circumstances, and for the time being we have broken off the friendship.

“Fortunately, the might-have-been-my husband is friendly with a kind Jesuit priest, with whom he can talk religion easily, so I am not without some hope that he may become a Catholic. If he did, I fancy the happy ending for both of us would be only just round the corner. He said he would not dream of turning unless he were fully convinced that ours is the true religion revealed by Christ-and for that, as for so much else, I admire him more than I have a mind to say.

“He promised to pray daily that God may guide him in the way of truth and give him grace to do His Will in all things, and-need I say it?-I also am praying my knees off for him, and trying not to be too selfish in. doing so; I am going to daily Mass and Holy Communion in the hope that I might help to merit for him the spiritual comfort of a conversion that would be at the same time a very emotional and earthly consolation to my own so matrimonially minded heart. I know I can count on your prayers also, Father dear, and I feel sure that if we all pray as we ought God will be generous with His graces.

“Finally, lest you still be in any doubt about it, a Mixed Marriage is altogether off the menu! I could do without a “white wedding,” and I could dispense with the bridesmaids, the trainbearers, the pews packed with relatives and friends, the soprano singing Ave Maria, the organ thundering out the Wedding March, the confetti, the photographers, the “happy- making” reception, and all those other refinements that I”11 surely have if I can, but never and for nobody will I marry without all the spirituality and blessings to which my Baptism has entitled me; never will I wed without the happiness of a Nuptial Mass and the joy of kneeling with my husband to receive Holy Communion; for while I am woman enough to know what I want, I flatter myself also that I am Catholic enough to know what God wants, and God’s Will is more important than mine . . .

Readers of a romantic disposition will probably be horrified by Nuala’s letter and will feel little sympathy with the young lady herself. Those who have grown up on novels of the type entitled: “Love is the Law,” “Love, the Devouring Flame.” “The World Well Last for Love,” will say of this letter: “This isn’t love. It’s too cold and calculating. It’s too lighthearted, too much at ease. If this pair really loved each other, they couldn’t break it off as they did. If they are properly in love, they should let nothing come between them: they are fools to go against Fate: they will be sorry when it’s too late.”

But I, who know Nuala, know how to read between the lines of what she has written. I know how loath she is to grumble and how well she can as a rule keep her heartaches to herself. Religion is so real for her that she can sacrifice herself and her own will when religion seems to demand this, but holiness hasn’t desensitised her, or hardened her woman’s heart against the piercing of pain, or dried up the fountains of tearfulness in her. Her sacrifice has been very far from easy, and indicates no want in her love. One doesn’t “pray one’s knees off” for somebody to whom one is indifferent, or enlist the aid of others in petitioning God for something about which one cares little or nothing.

With her swift feminine insight and her sound Catholic instinct Nuala knows that pure love is a gift and grace of God, designed to protect the soul from sin and safeguard it against selfishness. She realises that true love leads to God for it has come from God, and that it leans on Him for it finds in Him the strength it needs to make firm, its native frailty. Therefore, she is right in refusing to gamble with her happiness, right in terminating a romance that does not seem likely to ripen into the reality of her dreams, right even in breaking her heart while repair is still possible, instead of waiting until it has been shattered into so many fragments that a lifetime of tears will not suffice to cement it into a fair semblance of what it once was.

THE REAL EXPLANATION

The real explanation of Nuala’s letter is Nuala’s past. To understand her longing for a good Catholic husband you should have lived and grown up as she did in a model Catholic household, and have had such ideal Catholic parents as she had, simple, industrious, deeply religious folk, intensely devoted to each other and to their children, yet, in no wise extravagantly ostentatious of their affection.

A picture of the Madonna and Child hung over Nuala’s cradle, and her mother prayed over her as she rocked her to sleep. No sooner did Nuala learn to lisp than she was taught to form the holy Names of Jesus, Mary and Joseph, and to fold her baby hands in prayer. Among her earliest recollections are those of being brought each afternoon by her mother to the nearby Catholic Church, with Christmas visits to the Crib as the highlights of these little excursions.

When old enough she joined her elder sister as a pupil at the local Convent school, where she was educated not merely to knowledge, but to holiness. First Confession, First Holy Communion. Confirmation, these were, the milestones of her journeying through childhood, and all her life long she will remember the happiness of kneeling with Daddy, Mummy and her brothers and sisters at the altar rails every Sunday morning. Sometimes, too, at breakfast after the family Communion on a Sunday, there would be a discussion on the parish priest’s sermon, the lessons of which would be interpreted and paraphrased for the little one’s benefit.

Needless to say, the nightly recitation of the Rosary was part of the invariable routine of Nuala’s home. Only for some really big reason might anybody miss being present at this, and there was no false shyness about inviting visitors to kneel and take part in it.

“She recalls the happiness of her childhood being but once overshadowed by sadness. Daddy fell dangerously ill with pneumonia, that came on so suddenly that he had to be nursed through it at home. A hush of most fearsome apprehension descended on all when the doctor came and told Mummy to send for the priest, while he himself made arrangements to have nurses come to look after the patient. Nuala and her sister went for the priest, who hastened to the sick man, heard his Confession, anointed him, and gave him Holy Viaticum. How consoled they were by the thought that Our Blessed Lord Himself had come to visit them in their distress! And how privileged they knew themselves to be when, each day while the danger lasted, the priest brought the Saviour again to Daddy, and all the family knelt about his bed in tearful thankfulness. People used to say to Daddy afterwards that he owed his recovery to the way his children prayed for hi m while he was sick, for when they were not praying for him at home they were praying for him before the Blessed Sacrament in the church.

In due course Nuala outgrew the local school and had to join the elder sister again, this time as a boarder in another Convent, a secondary school, some distance from home. Leaving home was a dreadful wrench, but she soon settled down to the simple discipline, which, after all, wasn’t so very different from what she had known at home. The girls were nice and friendly on the whole, and the nuns, she thought, were darlings, to whom one could talk easily and in whom one could confide without difficulty.

Schooldays over, she took up nursing as a career: it held some appeal for her unselfish nature: it would be a useful preparation for the more ultimate career as wife and mother that she ambitions.

THE CONTRAST

Nuala stands now at the parting of the ways, but her face is turned towards Heaven. She has the star of faith to guide her in her journey through life. She is too wise to risk the good things of eternity for the trifles of time, too shrewd to barter everlasting happiness for the joy that is reckoned in days and weeks and years, the joy that must some day come to an end.

Nuala has lived too long “in Arcady” to be attracted more than momentarily by life elsewhere. She has lived too long with the best to find full enjoyment in the second-best. She has known how perfect can be the happiness and peace and content of the Catholic home, and she wants such to be the atmosphere of the home that would be hers.

Her dream is to follow in her mother’s footsteps, to marry a good Catholic boy, to mother his children, and to rear them in all the traditional practices of religion in which she was brought up herself.

If she married a non-Catholic, could she have religious pictures in her home? Could she have holy water fonts in the bedrooms and beside the front door? Could she have the nightly Rosary, with her family and friends kneeling around her? Could she present herself with her husband and children at the altar rails to receive her Lord? Could religion be freely discussed at table for the benefit of the children? Could she be sure that it would please her husband to have the children educated in Catholic schools where religion is given the place that rightfully belongs to it-for that matter, could she even be sure that her husband and she would see eye to eye on the fundamentals of married life; what if he, following his false religion in its equally false moral teachings, wished to have recourse to most unethical methods to limit the size of the family to what he thought his means and her health would justify? If she were ill, would her husband lead the family in praying for her? Would he send somebody for the priest and welcome the latter’s visits to her? If he should outlive her, would he see to it that the prayers of the Church and the Sacrifice of the Saviour would succour her beyond the tomb, and would he be so faithful to her after her death as to set a promise to her above his own religious beliefs by continuing to rear the children in a religion that he regards as false?

Nuala is wise in wishing to build for happiness on a basis of religion. Catholicism must occupy the foremost place in her home; it must not be relegated to second place, kept hidden away, a dangerous topic that might offend her husband or his friends, a thing to be ashamed of, a septic focus in the household, a continuous threat to her married happiness. In her own home she had seen every-thing beautified by religion. Their mutual Catholicism welded her parents” love into a, bond stronger than death. Their common acceptance of the moral teaching of the Catholic Church intensified their trust in each other, and served to ensure their faithfulness to their marriage vows. Nuala, now old enough to appreciate all this, wants love such as this in her own married life; she wants religion to bind her to her husband and him to her; she wants no conflict between them on the moral basis of matrimony, no danger that, in line with his co-religionists, he may come to believe in birth prevention, or divorce, or free love. She will have Christ Himself come sacramentally to bless her wedding, as of old He blessed a marriage in Cana of Galilee; she looks forward to seeing Him come as guest during the Nuptial Mass into the hearts of herself and her life’s partner, so that henceforth they may beat as one in His Love, and so that during all their life together their Lord may ever be their Light, whether in the thrill of happiness or the tearfulness of sorrow.

TRADITIONAL CATHOLIC OUTLOOK

I have dwelt at what to some may appear too great length on Nuala’s letter, but I have done so very deliberately, for I see in it the traditional Catholic outlook on the Sacrament of Matrimony, and the traditional Catholic mistrust of mixed marriages.

From the very beginning, the Church laid to her heart that sentence of Scripture: There was a marriage at Cana of Galilee, and the Mother of Jesus was there: and Jesus also was invited. As Our Blessed Lady was welcomed at Cana, Holy Mother Church wants to be welcomed at Catholic weddings, and she wants Jesus, too, to be invited. For that reason, she has surrounded the marriage rite with most impressive ritual, and, like the ordination of a priest, she has linked this Sacrament to the Mass, interrupting the liturgy at a most solemn moment, while Christ is really present on the altar, to pray over the newly-plighted couple. She goes even further. Marriage being a sort of permanent Sacrament, she permits the Nuptial blessing to be given long afterwards to those who were unable to receive it on their wedding day, because, for example, they had been married during Lent.

This desire of the Church to see marriage solemnised by Holy Mass and the lovers pledge themselves to each other in the reception of the Body of Christ dates away back to apostolic times. St. Evaristus, a Pope of the Second century after Christ wrote: “It is a tradition coming down to us from the Apostles themselves that marriage should be celebrated at the time of the Holy Sacrifice.” And about a hundred years later we find Tertullian, an outstanding early Christian writer, noted for his skill in argument and his facility of expression, confessing that he is “unable to find words in which to express the beauty of that marriage that has been performed by the Church, strengthened by the Holy Sacrifice, sealed by the Nuptial blessing, proclaimed by Heaven’s angels, and ratified by God Himself, the Father of us all.”

All through the centuries the Church continued to assert the tremendous sacredness, and the profound re11gious significance, of matrimony. In Christian Marriage it sees a divine symbolism. As the Church perceives it, there is between the marriage of two Catholics and that of two pagans, a difference that might well be termed a consecration. Christian wedlock signifies Heaven upon earth. It symbolises the union of the divine and human in Christ. It betokens all the angelic beauty of faithfulness and chaste love set like a jewel in the biological bonds and bodily urges that unite husband and wife on the material plane.

PIUS XI ON MARRIAGE

“Marriage,” said Pope Pius XI, “has a sacredness that is intimately bound up with religion and everything that is holy. It is sacred in its origin, since it has God for its author, and has been, even from the beginning, a foreshadowing of the Incarnation of the Word of God. It is sacred in its purpose, which is the begetting and educating of children for God, and the binding of man and wife to God through Christian love and mutual support. It is sacred in its very nature, for wedlock finds its explanation in the far-seeing providence of God, that made it the means of transmitting human life, and that constituted the parent’s, the ministers, as it were, of the Divine Omnipotence. Add to this the further element of nobleness that the Sacrament confers on Christian marriage, dignifying and elevating it to such a degree that it appeared to Saint Paul as a great sacrament, honourable in every way.

“This religious character or wedlock, the sublime way in which it signifies grace and the union between Christ and the Church, quite obviously demands of those about to get married that they approach the Sacrament with a holy reverence, and spare no pains to make their union resemble as nearly as possible its most perfect model, the union between Christ and the Church.”

PIUS XI ON MIXED MARRIAGES

“There are some who, contract marriages rashly and without due consideration. The Church, loving her children as a true mother, and being full of concern for their welfare, tries to dissuade them, but to no purpose. By so acting they fail conspicuously in the reverence they owe the great Sacrament of Matrimony- sometimes, alas, with danger to their eternal salvation.

“One may find the Church’s attitude to mixed marriages stated in more than a few of her documents. These are synopsised as follows in the Codex of Church Law:

““Everywhere and with the greatest strictness does the Church forbid marriages between baptised persons, one of whom is a Catholic and the other a member of a schismatical or heretical sect. If it should also happen that there is danger that the Catholic party will lose the Faith, or that the children will be perverted, then, as well as being forbidden by Canon Law, the marriage is banned by the Divine Law.”

“Circumstances are sometimes such that the Church does not refuse to dispense in this strict prohibition. It does so only where the marriage is not also forbidden by the Divine Law, and only where the dangers inherent in all mixed marriages are provided against by suitable safeguards. But even when it does dispense, it is unlikely that the marriage will not be in some way detrimental to the Catholic party

“Experience shows that mixed marriages frequently lead to deplorable defections from religion among the offspring, or at least to a headlong descent into that indifference that is intimately allied to impiety.

“One must also remember that in mixed marriages it becomes much more difficult to imitate by a lively harmony of spirit that mystery we spoke of already, namely, that close union there is between Christ and His Church. As this concord of spirit is the sign and mark of the Church of Christ, so should it also be conspicuous in Christian wedlock as its glory and ornament. But where there is diversity of mind and outlook and feeling, the close union of spirit and heart is likely to be broken, or, at the least, weakened.”

MOTHER CHURCH

Perhaps the most significant sentence in this long quotation from the most famous document dealing with marriage that has appeared in modern times, the great encyclical of December 31st, 1930, is: “The Church, loving her children as a true mother, and full of concern for their welfare, tries to dissuade themfrom mixed marriages.”

Far too many people, even some who love old Mother Church, think that she is strangely severe in her attitude to mixed marriages and would like to see her relax the stringency of” her regulations in this matter. “After all,” they say, “you can’t streamline love. Catholics will continue to fall in love, even though they may not want to, with non-Catholics. Few people are so foolish as to marry outside their own religion unless they are tremendously, in love; and the Church ought to make things easy for and give a little motherly consolation to such .of her children as have been smitten by affection for some- black sheep outside the fold, instead of terrifying them with gloomy forebodings of the difficulties that lie ahead of them in marriage, and making more problems for them before they can get married, and denying them the blessing and religious ceremonies which they need maybe more than those marrying fellowCatholics.”

People who argue thus about the Church’s attitude to mixed marriages are richer in sentimentalism than in sound reasoning. They are so anxious to be kind that they are being too kind; forgetting that one can be cruel by being over-kind; as might be a father, who, rather than see the tears and hear the wails of his baby, would let the infant play with a naked razor.

The Church is not wanting in affection for her children. She loves them all tenderly and truly. But neither is she wanting in intelligence. She is insanely fond of nobody, never blindly in love with nation or individual. You may think she is the less human for that, but if you can bring yourself to realise that reason and the ability to regulate, actions by prudence constitute the greatest glory of humanity, you will soon agree with me that the Church in her attitude is supremelywise. The more one renounces, or lacks reason, the less noble and the less enlightened are one’s motives.

It is precisely because the Church loves her children that she uses every device to dissuade them from marrying outsiders. The keen, searching light of reason and the dispassionate wisdom of her many centuried existence have shown her what frightful risks there are in all mixed marriages, and she knows that she would be unfaithful to her children’s trust in her if she mitigated in any way the strictures she pronounces against these dangerous unions. She knows that, at the worst, they lead souls innumerable to Hell; for if the Catholic is careless in the Faith or if the non-Catholic asserts himself with regard to the education of the children, then these children and their posterity are lost to the Church.

At best, Mother Church knows, mixed marriages are, as marriages, only a poor second best; they are a most risky gamble; and the dangers in them are not necessarily lessened by the fact that the parties love each other very intensely.

Mixed marriages are only a poor second-best because the best things in married life, the procreation and education of children and the ennabling them to grow up into healthy members of Christ’s mystical body, are not regarded with unity of outlook by both husband and wife.

Mixed marriages are a risky gamble, because the stakes are so much greater than whatever return success could bring; for the stakes are immortal souls, the souls of the Catholic party and of his children and of his children’s children; and the return, even where the mixed marriage proves successful, is only a few years of earthly happiness and the very remote possibility of converting the non-Catholic.

The dangers are not always lessened by the fact that the parties are very much in love with each other, because love leads so naturally to self-sacrifice and self-surrender. The more one loves, more eagerly one longs to give. The more one loves, the more one seeks to spare the beloved all pain. This means that the more the parties in a mixed marriage are, attached to each other, the more likely the Catholic will be to repress his religion, the more ready will he be to permit the misuse of matrimonial rights and the more certainly will he not insist on the Catholic education of the children. No, indeed: love will not exorcise the evil spirits that haunt the mixed marriage. Love will not protect the cradle from the dangerous aura of affectionate unbelief: it will not save the child from the sinister attraction of a heretical and fond father or mother. Love can by no means ensure that the Catholic will be any more faithful to his religious beliefs, or any less accommodating in them, than the non-Catholic.

IN LOVE WITH AN OUTSIDER?

“But Father!” you may say, “you haven’t answered that remark about Catholics continuing to fall in love with non- Catholics even against their will. Surely mixed marriages are sometimes necessary.”

No; they are not really necessary. I can’t see that they are much more neces sary than divorce. Granted that people may fall in love even against their better judgment, they can still use their reason and deliberately fall out of love. It may sound frightfully cold and unromantic, but it is no more than the bare truth. Love can be “streamlined,” and love affairs sometimes have to be broken up; and, if they really want to, and try hard enough, people can fall out of love-I know the novel readers won’t agree; and if their ignorance is bliss, I pray they won’t live to find out its folly.

Love, like any other emotion, can and must be controlled. It has been done. It is still being done, day after day, even by persons who have not the help and consolation of Sacrament and” Sacrifice as Catholics have. How often has it happened that hearts have outstripped heads, and persons have found themselves in love with other persons” husbands or wives, or with individuals equally as “unattainable”? If reared in the schools of romance, such unfortunate persons might spend the remainder of their lives in a foolish, perhaps, sinful, day-dream in brighter-than-daylight technicolour of a most improbable “what-might-havebeen.” If they are wise they treat the whole occurrence as a mental infection to be eliminated as rapidly and as completely as possible from their emotional system. This is a process quite likely to rival in pain and unpleasantness its physical counterpart, and, unlike the latter, it has to be achieved without anaesthetics.

BREAK IT OFF IN TIME

To any friends of mine who are so unfortunate or so foolish as to have love-affairs with non-Catholics I always give one piece of advice:Break it off in time: it’s seldom too late and it’s never too early to do so! As to the value of this counsel I shall only say that all who acted on it succeeded in it, and without exception, were ultimately far from sorry to have made what sacrifice it involved.

You may ask how is one to go about terminating the dangerous friendship. To do so involves three resolutions, each of which has both negative and positive aspects.

Resolution No. 1 -Part Physically.

Before dealing with this resolution in detail, I may remark that courtesy and the length of time you have been friendly with a non-Catholic would seem to demand that you write or send word otherwise, stating the fact that and the reasons why you are “calling it all off.” One should avoid paining the other party more than is necessary; that would be neither kind nor Christian.

Negatively, the first resolution demands that after this final letter you will avoid all correspondence with each other, that you will answer no telephone calls from the nonCatholic, and refuse to be drawn into further “dates” to discuss the matter. One friend of mine had to get an escort home from her place of business to save her from the attentions of a Protestant, with whom she had been friendly and who had been hoping to marry her.

On the positive side, you should keep yourself thoroughly occupied. Throw yourself into your work. Cultivate your other social contacts. Go out with your other friends. Be satisfied at first to go on from day to day, leaving the future to solve its own problems as they arise.

Resolution No. 2 -Part Mentally.

Negatively, this means that you should cease to dwell deliberately on the thought of the other person. There should be no brooding, no day-dreaming, no time for unprofitable selfpity. You shouldn’t adopt, even mentally, a directly aggres- sive attitude towards the non-Catholic, by trying to crush your affection for him, or by trying to work up a hatred that may be dangerous as it is ungenerous. Be satisfied, especially at the start, to keep your affection from externalising itself or from compelling you to go against your better judgment.

This second resolution indicates, positively, that you get rid of souvenirs, letters, photographs, gifts, the lock of hair, the varied assortment of keepsakes. Forgetting will be difficult enough without having to cope with reminders such as these, with all their poignant and tender associations. You should be ruthless here. A trifle is sometimes the key to a human heart, and some paltry trinket saved from the sacrifice might later on undo many months of heroic self-denial. Fill your mind with fresh interests, reawaken your dormant ambitions regarding self-improvement and the development of your personality, and in this way you may succeed in bypassing into harmless channels the potentially injurious repressed emotion.

Resolution No. 3 -Don’t Take Yourself Too Seriously.

You mustn’t mope, or allow yourself to drift into an unhappy melancholia. Your sacrifice will not be painless, your heart will feel no pleasure in tearing itself violently away from somebody to whom it was firmly attached, but, a little patience, and peace and joy and happiness will return. Don’t lose your sense of values. Your sacrifice will not be in vain. God will not be outdone in generosity. He will reward you for your whole-heartedness. Therefore, on the negative side, waste no time in moaning and lamenting. Don’t be a “sob-sister,” a “loony crooner” anguishing in self-torture. Face up to life bravely and frankly. You are doing for God and from the highest motives what others have done for parents” sake or for the love of money. Anybody with a reasonable experience of life knows several people like you, who have succeeded in deliberately breaking off an affaire de coeur, and admires them when, like soldiers that remain brave and smiling amid the horror of battle and the agony of wounds, they mask with cheerfulness the sorrow and grief they cannot but feel. One always honours such ill-starred lovers for their endurance, and one feels, too, that God will bless their bright courage both here and hereafter.

Keep your sense of proportion-and your sense of humour! See how silly it is to drown your grief in drink (as if God would be honoured by an “alcoholiday”) or to rush headlong into marriage with somebody else just because he is a Catholic, or worse still, to plunge into professional celibacy by rashly embracing the religious life or the priesthood from some sentimental notion of being faithful till death to your beloved. Sometimes, it is true, an emotional tragedy is the prelude to a genuine vocation to the religious state, but only when it shows one the emptiness of all human love as compared with the surpassing love of God. Convents and monasteries are no scrap-heaps for misfits. Life is too vigorous and real in them for love-lorn spinsters or desolate dawdlers. If marriage is your real vocation, you have indeed served the right novitiate for it, for marriage is most likely to succeed when the parties have practical realisation of the meaning of self-sacrifice. Pray, then, to God, to preserve you from yourself, to strengthen your faith, to support you in sadness: and ask Him that if it be His Holy Will, He would comfort your heart by sending you somebody worthy to occupy a place with Himself in, your affections.

TOLERATED

It is a recognised principle of right conduct that one may counsel evil when it is the only alternative to greater evil. One would seem to be justified in urging a broken-hearted husband to seek forgetfulness in drink rather than to persist in a purpose of committing suicide. One might urge a highwayman to take a traveller’s wealth in preference to his life (or his wife!). In these cases one does not really approve of the evil one advises; one approves only of the fact that it is better than the other alternative; one gives it only a very relative and qualified approval.

This is the sense in which the Church tolerates even those mixed marriages that are celebrated by dispensation. She is greatly pained by them. She is utterly disgusted by them. She is intensely disappointed in those who contract them. But to avoid greater evils, such as might arise through the inability of a Catholic man to find a Catholic partner of approximately his own social standing in a district with an overwhelmingly Protestant population, the Church will reluctantly consent to the union of a Catholic with a non-Catholic, and she will give this unwilling consent only when she is certain that every precaution has been taken to prevent the, marriage from being harmed by the outsider.

She will have nothing whatever to do with the wedding unless the non-Catholic promises, in writing, to abstain from interfering with the Faith of the Catholic and to allow all the children, without exception, to be brought up as Catholics. But, even when these promises have been made, it is only with tears in her eyes and a heart unable to be eloquent for mourning that the Church comes in the person of her priest to see one of her own loved ones join in wedlock with a person who, consciously or unconsciously, is on the side of her enemies and playing false to the divine truth that is dearer to her than life itself. Like any loving mother who sees her child marry misery, and wed the danger of dreadful disaster, the Church assists at a mixed marriage grieved in heart and almost mute for sadness that it must take place. She prays in silence that her worst fears may, by the kindness of Providence, never come to pass. She has no desire to prolong the ceremony, and surely it is intelligible that she is loath to add to it the fullness of ritual that is the expression of her happiness, the sign of her glad approval, and the token of Heaven’s blessing.

CONVERT IN ADVANCE

Once in a while a Catholic girl will say: “Yes, I am going with a Protestant, but I am hoping to convert him when we are married.” Such a remark is paralleled, I think, by: “Yes, I am going with a man who drinks like a fish from morning till night, but I am hoping to reform him when we are married”; and there is almost as much likelihood in the one case as in the other that the vague expectation will ever be accomplished.

Lovers are notoriously optimistic. Their hope is matched only by their love-which, no doubt, is but another way of saying that love is blind and therefore more liable than detachment to drift into danger. Blind hope, however, does not alter hard facts; and experience has shown it to be a very definite and unalterable fact that it is far easier to convert the non-Catholic before the marriage than afterwards. Early on in the courtship, while love is growing, and the parties believe so eagerly in each other, that is the time to invite the non-Catholic to see a priest and to examine the evidence for the Catholic faith; that, too, is the time when he or she will be most willing to accept invitations to come to Mass or other Catholic ceremonies.

A CASE IN POINT

If the non-Catholic is worth marrying, he is surely worth making an all-out effort for his conversion, and if that fails before marriage, the chances are slender, indeed, that will produce results afterwards.

I know a middle-aged Catholic man, versed far above the average in the philosophy and theology of our holy religion, whose mixed marriage must to outsiders appear absolutely successful. His children, now grown up, seem as careful as their father of their Catholicism. He and his wife are entirely devoted to each other, she welcomes his priest friends to their house and makes them feel very much at home, shows no resentment at the fact that her husband devotes most of his leisure to Catholic activities, and never interferes when he goes off every now and again to bury himself in some monastery for a week’s meditative retreat. Here is a man whose married bliss is the envy of many, but I know, beyond the shadow of doubt, that in his heart he is one of the saddest of mortals. You see, he has never forgiven himself for the folly of hoping that he could achieve after marriage the conversion he failed to effect in the far-off days of his courtship. No Pope or prelate could hold mixed marriages in such abhorrence as he does, and few lovers could have such ground for optimism as he had.

PARENTHESIS TO THE FOOLISH

This pamphlet may perhaps fall into the hands of some Catholic who has committed the hateful disobedience of taking the law into his own hands, who has married “outside the Church,” that is, without dispensation, in a registry office or before a non-Catholic clergyman. Passion is proverbially headstrong, and will not abide the formalities of law, or brook the reprimands of superiors. It may be that the years have brought remorse, that, perhaps, as the fires of passion have died down the thought of the eternal fires of hell has begun to trouble the sinful conscience. But when the subject is mentioned to the non-Catholic husband or wife, and the suggestion made that the marriage be rectified in the eyes of the Catholic Church, the peace of the home is shattered for weeks or months on end. The children, too, are now in Protestant schools and the non-Catholic party would never agree to having them removed and sent to Catholic schools.

In these circumstances can nothing be done for the Catholic? Must he or she live on in sin, a prey to a dreadful expectation of the just anger of God when He shall come in Judgment?

It is not so. Nobody need ever live on in sin. While, in such matters as marriage problems, one cannot easily formulate a set of rules that will solve every case that could arise, one may say with confidence that no problem is insoluble. The Church is kind as Christ the Saviour, above all, to the repentant sinner; and she will facilitate his return to grace in every way possible. If the marriage can be set right, even without the knowledge of the non-Catholic—and sometimes it can- she will repair it, and will then re-admit the repentant Catholic partner to the Sacraments.

If, then, you have contracted any such illicit, sinful marriage, and are sorry for your folly, have recourse to some priest for advice. Be very candid with him, and he will guide you again to happiness and peace of soul.

THE TRAGEDY OF ERROR

Please do not think that, for all our denunciation of heresy, I, or any other Catholic priest, would regard all those outside the Church as deliberately deaf to Christ’s teaching, or believe that they are guilty of maliciously falsifying the Gospel. I know too many non-Catholics for that. But while I admire the integrity of these good people and pay tribute to the devoted way they follow their principles, I pity them, just as I would pity a blind child who has not yet realised from what beauty and experience its condition- cuts it off; and my heart goes out to them just as it would to any unfortunate that I might see in blissful ignorance of the tragedy that is near to him as his very being.

What a misery never to drink in the life-giving stream that flows daily on our altars in the mystic Calvary of Holy Mass! What a horror to hug to one’s soul the foul error that Christ’s Church might fail in its mission, that His Vicar in the watch-tower of the Vatican might quaver as a quicksand when Christians sought the support of the Rock of Truth! What an objectively ungrateful and pernicious blasphemy to deny honour to the Blessed Mother of God, whom God Himself so honoured for our sakes, and who co-operated so closely in the work of our salvation!

For those born outside the Church, heresy is, of course, a misfortune not of their own choosing. It is none the less a ghastly thing; and the Catholic who contracts a mixed marriage knows that by so doing he is walking arm in arm with error, that he is deliberately courting tragedy and consciously choosing it for his partner in life against the advice of earth’s wisest of Mothers. Let him not be surprised if many are the griefs it will beget.

IN CONCLUSION

Like the good mother she is, the Church is nervous and unhappy when any of her children think to bind themselves in marriage to non-Catholics. She loves all men, even those who are most prejudiced against her, but she will not compromise with any evil or dangerous doctrines they may preach. Why blame her for loving her own deeply, and, motherlike, for having a particular concern for their future? She sees clearly what a foul thing heresy is, knows from long experience that it is an infectious disease, a cancer and sad blemish in the soul which has been purchased for the Spirit of Truth in the Blood of Jesus Christ: and so she will ever seek by all the means in her power to discountenance mixed marriages, just as she will never repudiate that basic principle that a single human soul is a pearl above price, a gem far too precious ever to be risked, much less traded, for some few paltry years of earthly happiness. She is nothing if not faithful to the Truth.

And, by the way, I hope you now agree that the young lady, whose letter started all this, was right to echo the sentiments of the Old Lady, Mother Church, by saying a firm NO to a mixed marriage.

Nihil Obstat:

W. M. Collins,

Censor Deputatus.

Imprimatur:

@ D. Mannix,

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis.

********

There Is A God

BY REV. AEGIDIUS DOOLAN, O.P., S.T.M

INDEX

FOREWORD

This little book is for God. It is also for those men and women, especially young men and women, whom those others who are campaigning against God are trying to reach and influence. In Ireland, as elsewhere, there are people who are not trained philosophers, but who are under the necessity or with the desire of knowing the reason of the Truth, and of the Hope, that is in them. To these, this little book offers a slight garnering of the wisdom of St. Thomas Aquinas. It is offered, not because it is his, but because it is true. Truth is its own guarantee. And Truth is simple. But because of its very simplicity Truth is not easy for the human mind-in so many ways a divided mind-to grasp. The mastering of Truth involves, as St., Thomas himself wrote: “much labour of study.” These pages, then, cannot pretend to be easy reading; but their author has tried to make them as simple as can be, for those who seek the Truth.

A WIDESPREAD campaign has been proclaimed in our time against God, “anti-God,” and in France there is a society which vaunts the title “Sans Dieu,” without God. If there be a God, these movements must stand self-condemned. And yet the very names they assume seem to attest the existence of God: a nonentity would not be so opposed. At any rate it is obvious that the main question, in a sense the only question at issue is: Is there a God? The persistence and increasing violence of the anti-God campaign call for a marshalling of all forces, including every intellectual argument, that stand for God. Pope Pius XI has stated the issue:

“To stand for or against God; on this choice hangs the fate of the world. In politics, in finance, in morality, in science and in art, in the State, in Society (civil and domestic), in the East, in the West-everywhere this choice must be made, and its consequences are decisive.” (Caritate Christi Compulsii, 3–5-’32). This little book is for God. Its aim is to put before those who want to know them some of the arguments by which reason itself is able to find an answer to the question: Is there a God? Five arguments are selected. They are those that appealed most to St. Thomas Aquinas. Pope Pius XI has said of them that “they are today, as they were in the middle ages, the most cogent of all arguments.” (Studiorum Ducem, 29–6-1923).

THE QUESTION AT ISSUE

Before attempting to deal with any question whatsoever, it is necessary to be clear as to what the question is about. It is foolish to answer any question until one knows just what the question is. If, for instance, one is asked whether A is greater than B, it is necessary before answering to be informed as to what is A and what is B. Or, to take another example, if a child is asked to see whether there is a boat on the river or a person at the door, it must be supposed that he already knows the meaning of the words boat and river, person and door. So if one is asked a question about God, for instance: Does God exist?, it is necessary from the outset to know, at least in a general way, what the word “God” means. This consideration, which seems so elementary that one hesitates to propose it, is overlooked time and again in modern controversy. Professor J. B. S. Haldane, for instance, who himself recognises the necessity of a proper definition, refers in a recent controversy with Mr. Arnold Lunn (1), to the modern confusion of though when he says (P. 358) : “1 am willing to concede to you the existence of God, provided we leave it open whether the word defines a person, the principle of concretion (Whitehead), the goal of our striving (Alexander) or something at present undefined.”(2) The confusion caused by such ambiguity is deplorable. On the one hand, some people are undeservedly regarded as atheists, because they deny the existence of what they name “God,” although by the name they simply mean something monstrous, a sort of malevolent, or even benevolent, giant whom they have heard that some benighted people think of as lord of life and death. The late Father Peter Finlay, S.J., once made a most forceful appeal to children making a retreat not to think of God the Father as a fierce old gentleman with a beard. But to deny the

1 Published by Eyre and Spottiswoode in a volume: Science and the Supernatural. 2 The italics are not in the text. existence of such a fierce old gentleman, even though some people may have thought of him as God, is not to be an atheist! On the other hand, and here the confusion is still more dangerous, many modernist philosophers cling to the word “God” while rejecting the meaning that attaches to it in common and long-accepted usage. Of these Dr. Inge writes, in God and the Astronomers. (1): “We may give modernist philosophers credit for good intentions in retaining the name of God while sacrificing the thing: but it is very confusing to their readers. If by the name God they mean a ‘nisus’ or a ‘principle of concretion,’ or “the ideal tendency of things’ or a magnified and non-natural President of the United States, it is a mistake to use a name which has such very different associations.” But unfortunately the meaning of words is something that modern thought is often unable to grasp and sometimes completely ignores. One of its representatives appealed to the editor of Discovery (October, 1934) : “If the scientist is convinced that the word God is without meaning (for him), why should he object to his writing with this implication?” He did not see that the objection was not to the scientist’s humble confession that he did not know what the word “God” meant, but to his proud and impertinent suggestion that nothing could exist of which he was ignorant. As well might he say that some town, whose name was without meaning for him, did not exist, as that God did not exist because he did not know what the word God meant. But many so-called, and even self-styled atheists do not really deny the existence of God, for the simple reason that they do not know the very meaning of the word. Thus Professor Julian Huxley in a sentence in which he meant to profess atheism, actually affirms the existence of what he thought to deny: “The advance of natural science, logic and psychology have (sic) brought us to a stage at which God is no longer a useful fiction. . Natural science has pushed God into an even greater remoteness, until . . . He becomes a mere first cause.” (2) Professor Huxlev must never have suspected that for St. Thomas Aquinas “a mere first cause” means everything, and it is that precisely “to which everyone gives the name of God.” (3) A “mere first cause” is that on which every other cause and every effect and every possibility of cause and effect depend.

It is necessary, therefore, to be clear from the outset as to the meaning of the term God. Until that is defined it is futile to inquire whether God exists.

WHAT THE WORD “GOD” MEANS

There is an old saying: Penes populum est jus et norma loquendi: common usage determines the meaning of words. Now, in common usage the word God, Deus, Dieu, Dio, Dios, Gott, Theos, not to mention less well-known languages, means a Supreme Being, the First Cause, One Mighty and Strong on whom other things depend, an Intelligence that rules the world. St. Thomas says that people understand by the word God a First Mover Unmoved, an Uncaused Cause, a Being that is Necessary, Supremely Perfect, Good and Wise. Such a being is what the word God signifies, whether or not there be such a being in fact. There may be no such thing as a fairy, but we must know, before we say so, what the word fairy means.

We are now in a position to put the question: Does such a being as has been described exist? Is there in fact a Supreme Being, the Unchanging Source of movement, a First Cause, a Being that cannot not be, a Being all-Perfect, an Intelligence that rules the world: If there is such a being, there is a God.

IS IT NECESSARY TO DEMONSTRATE THAT GOD EXISTS

To the question: “Is there a God?” some men in all ages have been found to answer “No.” They are called atheists. In our day they glory in the appellation. The inspired Psalmist, God allowing him a freedom of language not countenanced in present-day society, would call them fools:

“The fool hath said in his heart: There is no God” (Ps. xiii. I.). But nearly everybody in all ages, Pagan and Christian, and in all countries answers “Yes.” Many indeed have erred about the unity and the nature of God, but their error did not interfere with their conviction that there was a God or Supreme Being, by whatever name they called him. Sir James Frazer’s The Golden Bough has not shaken the truth that belief in God is universal and goes back to the dawn of history. More recent research in the field of anthropology tends rather to confirm it. (A noteworthy testimony was given by Dr. John M. Cooper, Head of the Department of Anthropology at the Catholic University of America, in a

1 P. 232. 2 Discovery, June, 1934, p. 165. 3 Summa Theologica, Part I., question 2, article 3. statement to the N.C.W.C. News Service, published in The Standard, January 5th, 1935. “We have,” he says, “in different parts of the world, remnants of peoples whose culture represents a carry-over from extremely early prehistoric times. There are a number of such Indian peoples still living in the extreme Northern and extreme Southern portions of the American Continent. Among them are the very simple hunting Cree and Montagnais people of Labrador and of James Bay, the southern extension of Hudson Bay . . . The best modern field student had definitely denied these Cree and Montagnais all belief in anything like a Supreme Being, whereas the close relatives of these peoples . . . such as the Indians of the Atlantic coast line from Maine to Virginia are know to have had such a belief . . . In four expeditions to the James Bay and Western Labrador area in 1927, 1932, 1933, 1934, I have succeeded in discovering among these people-the Cree and Montagnais-a very clear concept and worship of a Supreme Being.”)

But even those who agree that there is a God do not all agree that His existence is a truth that can be, or at least that need be demonstrated. According to Mr. H. G. Wells: “Modern religion bases its knowledge of God entirely upon experience: it has encountered God. It does not argue about God: it relates.(1) Again, Professors Stewart and Tait, in their work, The Unseen Universe (2) say: “We assume as absolutely self-evident the existence of a Deity who is the Creator and Upholder of all things.” For all such people the existence of God is not a matter of argument at all: it is as immediately clear as that a thing cannot be and not be at the same time. In the history of philosophy, those who hold this view are called ontologists. ‘Their position is that God is the immediate object of their knowledge, that the first they know is the First Thing there is. Others do not pretend to any such innate conviction about God, but they are willing to accept on faith the fact that God exists. They take it as a truth handed down from generation to generation, held sacred by their fathers, enshrined in the history of their race and of the world; but, they say, there is no proof of it. Those who hold this position are called Fideists and Traditionalists. Kant held expressly that reason’s proof of God’s existence could not be trusted. This distrust of reason has infected most so-called Rationalists. The result is that “modernists,” following Kant, if they admit that God exists, admit it not on the testimony of their intelligence or speculative reason, but simply at the dictate of their moral sense, or sentiment. They regard it as a truth which a necessity of conscience, indeed of human conduct, makes it imperative to hold.

All such views, even such as might seem to exalt the merit and dignity of faith, really strike, as the history of Modernism shows, at the very foundations not alone of belief but of reason. If reason cannot, without faith, know that there is a God, then no man can be expected to believe. Faith means assent to what God teaches. But one cannot reasonably accept anything as God’s teaching unless one first has reason to know that God exists. One can no more he expected to accept God’s Word without first knowing that there is a God, than one could be expected to accept a message as from the man in the moon without first knowing that there is a man in the moon. If, therefore, faith is to be possible at all, human reason must be able, without faith and without necessary reliance on any mere tradition, to come by its own powers to know, and as the truth is not self-evident to all, even to demonstrate that there is a God. This is the express teaching of the Catholic Church. It was already the teaching of St. Paul: “The invisible things of Him, (God), from the creation of the world are clearly seen, being understood by the things that are made” (,Rom. i. 20). The Council of the Vatican was only voicing the mind of the Church from the beginning when it decreed: “If any one shall say that the one true God, our Creator and Lord, cannot be certainly known by the natural light of human reason through created things, let him be anathema.” (Session 4, Canon I de Revelatione). Pius X explained the force of this decree in a fuller statement (Sacrorum Antistitum, September 1, 1910): “God, the beginning and the end of all things, can be known and His existence can be proven with all certainty by the unaided light of reason by means of created things, that is to say, by means of the visible work of creation, as we know, with certainty, a cause from the study of its effects.”

IS THE ONTOLOGICAL ARGUMENT VALID?

A great Saint and Doctor of the Church, Anselm of Canterbury, was one night meditating on the best way to prove to “the fool who says there is no God” that God does and must exist when a solution to the problem flashed upon him “that filled his inmost being,” says the ancient chronicler, “with immense joy and gladness.” An argument struck him,

1 God, the Invisible King, p. 24. 3 P. 72 (6th edition). 2. P72 (6th edition) so simple and so apparently convincing that he at once penned An Address to the Fool who says there is no God with the utmost confidence that the fool would now surely be convinced of his folly. The argument of St. Anselm is known in history as the Ontological Argument. It is clearly to be distinguished from ontologism, according to which, as has just been explained, the question of God’s existence is not a subject for argument at all. The Anselmian Argument has appealed in the course of centuries to many thinkers. Philosophers of such diverse outlook as Descartes, Leibniz and Kant have been attracted by it. But others, including St. Thomas, have agreed that were there no better argument than this for the existence of God, there would still be, as even a contemporary of Anselm’s put it, a case for the fool!

The pith of the Ontological Argument is that from the very notion that we have of God we can infer that God exists: the very idea of God involves His Existence! There is no need, therefore, to go beyond the meaning of the word for proof that God exists. As St. Thomas interprets it, the argument, according to the mind of St. Anselm, runs: “As soon as the signification of the word God is understood, it is at once seen that God exists. For by this word is signified that thing than which nothing greater can be conceived. But that which exists actually as well as in the mind is greater than that which exists only in the mind. Therefore because as soon as the word God is understood it exists in the mind it also follows that it actually exists.”

It may be permissible to put the argument in a different and yet simpler form: It is agreed that by the word God is meant a Necessary Being. But a Necessary Being necessarily exists. Therefore, God necessarily exists.

The first proposition of that argument is clear from what has been said about the meaning of the word God. The second proposition seems also clear. If a necessary being did not exist it would not be necessary! The conclusion therefore follows.

This argument is so plausible that in every age it has its upholders. But it is utterly fallacious, and the fallacy of it did not escape the keen vision of St. Thomas. He exposes it as follows: “Even granted that everyone understands that by this word God is signified a being than which nothing greater can be conceived (or something necessary) . . . it cannot be argued logically that it actually exists, unless it be admitted that there actually exists something than which nothing greater can be conceived; and this precisely is not admitted by those who hold that God does not exist.” In other words, it does not follow that God exists because we conceive of Him as a Being which must exist. Existence is indeed implied in the idea of God, but that does not resolve the question: Is there an existing God? I conceive of God as a Necessary Being. But is there in fact a Necessary Being? If there is, it necessarily is. But how can we know that there is? About the nature of everything we can predicate certain things as necessary, that is to say, qualities and attributes that will necessarily be found in them if they exist. Fire, for instance, is necessarily hot and water necessarily wet—the concepts of fire and water imply these properties; but no one may therefore infer the existence of wet water and burning fire. Similarly, if God is, He necessarily is; but it does not follow from the fact that we conceive of him as necessarily existing that therefore He actually exists.

Leibniz in the sixteenth century made a great effort to save the force of the ontological argument by adding a further consideration. He asked it to be granted that is it possible that God exists; that there is nothing absurd in the notion. But, he went on, if God is possible, God is. Possibility in this unique case implies actuality, for if God were not God could not possibly be. The only possible reason for God’s existence is God’s existence. Since, therefore, the possibility is conceded, God’s existence must be conceded.

The objection to this argument is that the only possibility of God’s .existence that can reasonably be allowed, short of positive evidence, is a notional possibility. That the idea of God involves, so far as one can see; no absurdity implied at most that God is possible as a notion. But whether or not there is, or could be, in fact anything corresponding to that notion is the very question to be resolved. Does there exist, therefore, a Being who is conceived of as Necessary, Supreme, Absolute? Existence is not yet proven.

NECESSARY ASSUMPTIONS BEFORE THERE CAN BE PROOF

To prove anything whatsoever it is necessary that there be something already certain from which it may be proved. The mind must have something, some data, to work on. This “something certain” is called evidence. It is something about which there can be no question, something the truth of which is clear. Every right judgment, or conviction, every conclusion come to, must be based on evidence. If, therefore. one is asked to hold that God exists, one must first be given evidence to justify that verdict.

Proof, then, or demonstration is simply a mental process by which, from certain given evidence, one reaches a conclusion. It is a process of inference, ending in assent; it means coming to a conclusion about something that was in question in the light of truths already evident. An example will make this clear. In a Court of justice proof is looked for a certain charge or allegation. A man is accused, for instance, of theft. To establish whether he be innocent or guilty certain evidence is brought forward. This evidence is weighed by the judge. The judge then, in the light of the evidence, concludes on the question of guilt or innocence, and pronounces sentence, that is to say, gives judgment accordingly.

It follows that for judgment, and for every proof or demonstration, evidence is always necessary. Nothing whatever can be proved unless there is something clear already. A person who is not clear about anything who will accept no evidence, take nothing for granted, is beyond the reach of argument. Such a one cannot be reasoned with, and can never know anything about anything. Hence Aristotle defines demonstration as “a discourse in which certain things being granted, something else necessarily follows on their being true.” (1)

Before it can be demonstrated, therefore, that God -a Supreme Being and First Cause-exists, something must be granted to start with. Some evidence must be at hand from which one may conclude that there must be a God. In other words, there must be some truth already clear or evident to the inquirer from which he will be able to infer the truth about which he inquires, namely, whether there is a God.

The question now arises: What is there to go on, what evidence is at hand, what may be assumed, as a point of departure for any demonstration that God exists. It is clear from all that has been said that one cannot suppose that the fact of God’s existence is already known; but one must suppose some meaning attaching to the word “God,” whether or not God exists in fact. This distinction was overlooked by Kant in his Critique of Pure Reason and by Professor W. R. Matthews, of London University, in his essay “The Idea of God,” in An Outline of Modern Knowledge.(2) He wrongly thinks that every demonstration offered for God’s existence must presuppose the ontological argument, in other words, that one must already know from the very idea one has of God that God exists.

What, then, may one presuppose as beyond the reach of reasonable doubt, in other words, as certain and evident? St. Thomas Aquinas sets down a bare minimum as necessary for a demonstration that God exists. He asks to be granted simply something that is clear to everybody, and set beyond the possible reach of scientific disproof. He holds that a person must be intelligent, but that he need not be learned, need not know much about anything, in order to be able to arrive at the certain conclusion that there is a God. God’s way of making Himself known to His creation is, as Ruskin says, a simple way. He makes Himself known through the voice of nature. One has only to think about what one sees and hears and feels, what is evident through the very senses, in order to learn that there is a God. “Ask the beasts,” wrote the inspired writer, (3) “and they shall teach thee; and the birds of the air and they shall tell thee. Speak to the earth and it shall answer thee, and the fishes of the sea shall tell” if there be a God.

The only assumption, therefore, made in the demonstrations that follow is the fact of Nature, that, namely, there is a changing world around us, in which things happen, sometimes according to expectation, sometimes unexpectedly, a world of many things to which, nevertheless, a certain unity of purpose is discernible; a “mysterious universe,” certainly, but one about which the human mind can think. That is all that St. Thomas asks to have granted him. On this assumption, that the things we see and hear and feel exist, and that we can think about them, he bases every demonstration that he offers in answer to the question: Is there a God? His arguments, therefore, are absolutely independent of, and unaffected by, what is called modern science. They are based on data that are infra-scientific, none of which science can possible disprove, and some of which science itself must presuppose. For the scientist must at least assume the existence of a changing world, of what passes before his telescope or under the microscope, of what changes in his test tube: and he must assume that he can think. St. Thomas asks no more.

1 Prior Analyt. 1. c. 1.

2 P. 58.

3 Job. XII, 7–8.

ST. THOMAS’S PROOF

“The existence of God can be proved in five ways.”

With this serene confidence St. Thomas opens his reply to the query: Utrum Deus sit? Whether God exists? His

“five ways” have become classical in the history of thought and have been, through seven centuries, trodden by countless thinkers. No one need pretend that they are the only ways, or even the most popular, by which a soul may come to the conviction that God exists. But after seven centuries they are still firm, and each foothold to the final ascent is still secure. For they are ways built on the bedrock of primary unshakeable evidence, evidence, as has been seen, that all thinking, in any branch of science whatsoever, must presuppose. They are based on first principles, and these are, in Aristotle’s phrase, “without presupposition. (1)” Each way is made up of a starting-point, two steps, and a terminus or conclusion. The starting point is in each a fact of everyday experience; the first step an evident principle of thought, namely, the principle of causality (2) from one or another angle; the second step, the bringing of the principle to bear on the fact so as to illustrate its meaning; the conclusion is, in Chesterton’s phrase, a conclusion that controls all other conclusions; it is the answer to “the most tremendous question in the world.”

We shall set down, before each of the five ways, a short explanation that may help to clarify the argument, but needless to say, St. Thomas’s own words should be pondered most.

THE FIRST WAY

“The first and most manifest way,” writes St. Thomas, “is the argument from motion.”

The starting-point of this argument is the fact that “in the world some things are in motion.” There were philosophers of old who denied even this, but nowadays it is not denied. Modern science seems to hold that everything in nature, even what is called “still life,” is in almost frantic motion. The modern tendency is indeed to reduce everything to motion, interpreting everything in terms of evolution. No one at any rate will deny that, as St. Thomas puts it, “it is certain and evident to our senses that some things are in motion.” Things change. They may not change their nature, but they chance at least their position, their shape, their size, their colour, Change means motion. And it is a fact which modern science confirms that there is no change of any sort, as physics considers change, without local motion. It may be agreed that some things-scientists would say all things-are in motion.

It is well at this stage of the argument to reflect on what motion necessarily implies. Motion is always the actuation of some power, or, in more accurate terms, the partial actualisation of a potency. Every movement has some objective: it is the way to something or somewhere. It means ultimately the acquiring of something. In other words. it means becoming, and becoming must come to something. Different kinds of motion may be distinguished according to what the motion comes to, for instance a new position, a new quality, a new quantity. But in all cases, to be in motion is to be getting something new.

The first step that follows in the argument from the fact of motion is: “Whatever is in motion is put in motion by another.” This is clear from what has just been said. A thing cannot get something new from itself: it must get it from something else. This something else from which the thing moved gets its actuation is called the mover. The use of a mathematical symbol may make this clear. Let X represent the thing that is moved: the whole thing and nothing but the thing. Let Y represent movement, the actuation of the thing when it is put in motion. Something now is introduced over and above what was. It is impossible to equate X with X + Y, unless on the supposition that Y = 0. If then the reality of movement be allowed, it must be accounted for by something besides X. X must receive its actuation from another. This other is its mover.

The second step of the argument is: Granted that something is moved or put in motion by another, it must

1. Cf. IV. Metaphys, c. 3.

2. The principle of causality simply states that every effect requires a cause; that, in other words, whatever happens, whatever is made, whatever is done, finds its explanation in something else. Nothing whatever can cause itself: nothing that is brought into being can have brought itself into being. It is brought into being by another. This other is its cause. If a person should see a snowball whizzing towards him, he will rightly infer that it neither made nor moved itself. ultimately be moved by a mover that is not put in motion. The reason of this is simply that if every mover were moved, that is to say dependent on another to be set in action, there would he no mover not dependent. All would depend, and nevertheless all would depend on nothing. In a sense, everything would depend on nothing: and nothing would not depend. The absurdity is apparent. Therefore, some mover must be independent. There must be a first in the series not in a mere temporal sense as some have thought, but in the sense that it presupposes no other, that it acts without being acted on, and moves without being moved.

The conclusion therefore is that there is a First Mover that is not moved. Whatever be the nature of this First Mover, the name that is given to It is God. Even in the liturgy there is a hymn that prays to God as the Mover Unmoved.

O God, the world’s sustaining force,

Thyself unmoved, all movements’ source;

Who from the morn till evening’s ray

Dost through its changes guide the day.

The same idea has inspired another prayer in the poetry of Alfred Noyes:

Colours and forms of earth and heaven, you flora;

Like clouds around a star-the streaming robe

Of an Eternal Splendour. Let the law

Of beauty in your rhythmic folds, by night

And day, through all the universe reveal

The way of the Unseen Mover to these eyes.

This first argument of St. Thomas, as it stands in the Summa Theologica, is as follows: (1).

“It is certain and evident to our senses, that in the world some things are in motion.

“Now whatever is put in motion. is put in motion by another. For nothing can be in motion except it is in potentiality to that towards which it is in motion; whereas a thing moves inasmuch as it is in act. “For motion is nothing else than the reduction of something from potentiality to actuality. But nothing can be reduced from potentiality to actuality, except by something in a state of actuality. Thus that which is actually hot, as fire, makes wood, which is potentially hot, to be actually hot, and thereby moves and changes it. “Now it is not possible that the same thing should be at once in actuality and potentiality in the same respect, but only in different respects. For what is actually hot cannot simultaneously be potentially hot; but it is simultaneously potentially cold. It is therefore impossible that in the same respect and in the same way a thing should be both mover and moved, i.e., that it should move itself. Therefore whatever is in motion must be put in motion by another. “If that by which it is put in motion be itself put in motion, then this also must needs be put in motion by another, and that by another again. But this cannot go on to infinity, because then there would be no first mover, and, consequently, no other :hover; seeing that subsequent movers move only inasmuch as they are put in motion by the first mover; as the staff moves only because it is put to motion by the hand.

“Therefore, it is necessary to arrive at a first mover, put in motion by no other; and this everyone understands to be

God.”

THE SECOND WAY

The starting point of the second way is the fact that things come into being—things that were not are—things are made. This writing, for instance, is made. If it be asked who is responsible for it the writer must plead guilty: he is the cause of it. But he himself was also made: there was a time when he was not. He owes his being to another. On this fact St. Thomas begins to argue.

The first step of the argument is: Whatever is made is made by another. In other words whatever is made-that is to say, every effect-has a cause. This principle is self-evident if rightly understood. It simply means that whatever

1 The translation used, by kind permission of the Very Rev. Father Provincial of the English Province of the Order of Preachers, is that made by the English Dominicans and published by Burns, Oates and Washbourne. Ltd. comes into being receives being from another. Obviously it could not receive it from itself, since it was not in existence until it received it. The alternative is necessary: it received it from another. This other is called its cause.

The second step of the argument is: There can be no cause without a first cause. In other words: There are causes, but there cannot be only causes that themselves are caused. There must be, as the only ultimate explanation of any effect or of any series of subordinate causes, a cause that is not caused, a first in the series of causes.

The conclusion is that there is a First Efficient Cause, which “all men call God.”

As the conclusiveness of this argument is often challenged by exponents of “modern thought,” it is well to consider their objections. The very weakness of the opposition will establish the force of the proof.

In a poetic form, the objection is put by Swinburne

Before the growth was the grower, and the seed o’er the plant was sown,

But what was seed of the sower? And the grain of him whence was it grown?

Foot after foot ye go back and travail and make yourselves mad

Blind feet which feel for the track where highway is none to be had.

Dr. E. W. Barnes, the Anglican Bishop of Birmingham, in his book, Scientific Theory and Religion, is more formal in his opposition to the argument just set down. “This argument, he writes (P- 595) “is open to serious objection. There is the logical flaw that we assume an invariable sequence of cause and effect, and yet get to a First Cause which is not an effect. Further, there is no reason why we should not have an indefinite retrogression. Still further, it is most doubtful whether anything resembling efficient causation can be imparted into sequences investigated by science . . . In brief, the argument . . . is derelict.”

There are here two infinite charges, and one expression of opinion about the feasibility of introducing the question of causality into purely scientific research. On this last point, we agree with Dr. Barnes that the question of causality is a question for philosophers and that scientists, as such do well to leave it alone. Their preoccupation is simply with antecedent and consequent. As Dr. Barnes himself has put it: “The conception of efficient cause lies outside the realm of science.” But in fact scientists, being also men, do speak of causes, and do admit causality. Dr. Barnes good-naturedly twits the scientist with this: “His use of such terms as cause shows of course that he has his own primitive metaphysics. He may well take to heart W. James’s aphorism: ‘Metaphysics means nothing but an unusually obstinate effort to think clearly.”‘ (Op. cit. p. 522). As therefore Dr. Barnes himself agrees that “efficient causes exist” (P. 569), it remains to consider his two main charges.

The first charge is founded on the allegation that “we assume an invariable sequence of cause and effect.” This is simply untrue. Such an assumption would be meaningless and quite alien to the thought of St. Thomas. We assume simply that where there is an effect here and now there is a cause.

The second charge is implied in the words: “There is no reason why we should not have an indefinite retrogression.” But St. Thomas surely never said there was. His argument in fact had nothing at all to say to retrogression. His vision carries him not back through the corridors of time, but down to the very depths of being until it touches the ultimate reality that here and now is causing whatsoever is caused. It is pleasant to find in a thesis accepted for the degree of Doctor of Philosophy in the University of London the answer to Dr. Barnes on this point: “It (is) clear beyond question that the infinite series which Aquinas had in mind and which he considered vicious was a series involving not temporal but logical (one might also say ontological) priority. His contention was that a succession of dependent entities, each member of which refers us to the one before it, can be rendered intelligible only by positing as its terminus an independent entity which is its own raison d’etre, that the notion of a series of this sort without such an ultimate ground is unintelligible and self-contradictory, and that the contradiction cannot be removed by supposing the series to extend to infinity. The dependent implies the independent.” (1)

Swinburne, like Barnes, overlooks the real meaning of the principles involved, namely, that no number of subordinate causes, let it be infinite, could explain a single effect. There must be-this is the consideration to which Swinburne could not rise-a cause outside the whole series of dependent causes, of a different order, transcendent, something which is its ownraison d’etre, the very reason of being itself.

St. Thomas’s words will now speak for themselves:

1 Robert Leet Patterson, The Conception of God in the Philosophy of Aquinas (p. 63).

“In the world of sense we find there is an order of efficient causes. There is no case known (neither is it, indeed, possible) in which a thing is found to be the efficient cause of itself; for so it would be prior to itself which is impossible. Now in efficient causes it is not possible to go to infinity, because in all efficient causes following in order, the first is the cause of the intermediate cause, and the intermediate is the cause of the ultimate cause, whether the intermediate cause be several or one only.

“Now to take away the cause is to take away the effect. Therefore, if there be no first cause among efficient causes, there will be no ultimate, nor any intermediate cause.

“But if in efficient causes it is possible to go on to infinity, there will be no first efficient cause, neither will there be an ultimate effect, nor any intermediate efficient causes; all of which is plainly false.

“Therefore, it is necessary to admit a first efficient cause, to which everyone gives the name of God.”

THE THIRD WAY

The starting point of the third way is the fact that things not only come into being but pass out of it. “They are found,” says St. Thomas, “to be generated and to corrupt and consequently they are possible to be and not to be.” There are things that can, and do, exist, but need not: they are not necessary. The pessimist Schopenhauer was so much impressed by this fact that he wrote: “The unrest that keeps the never-stopping clock of metaphysics going is the thought that the non-existence of this world is justas possible as its existence” (1) Everyone who reads this will be willing to concede that there is no reason in his nature why he should be, and that the world could get on without him.

The first step in the argument is: If all things were once merely possible, in the sense of unnecessary, nothing would ever be. One might say in a positive sense: Nothing would be necessary: something could not be. Nothing could be: nothing would be. But if there were ever nothing, there could never have been anything. Hence there must have been something always.

The second step of the argument is: This something must have been, that is to say existed, either by a necessity of its own nature or because of something else. But as in the case of efficient causes, it is useless to go on to infinity in necessary things whose necessity derives from another. For whatever about the possibility of an infinite series, an infinite series of dependent entities offers no explanation of itself.

The conclusion is: There must be something which is necessary in itself, the cause of all other necessity, and the reason of every possibility.

St. Thomas thus expresses this argument: “We find in nature things that are possible to be and not to be, since they are found to be generated and to corrupt, and consequently, they are possible to be and not to be.

“But it is impossible for these always to exist, for that which is possible not to be at some time is not.

“Therefore, if everything is possible not to be, then at one time there could have been nothing in existence.

“Now if this were true, even now there would be nothing in existence, because that which does not exist only begins to exist by something already existing. Therefore, if at one time nothing was in existence, it would have been impossible for anything to have begun to exist; and thus even now nothing would be in existence which is absurd.

“Therefore, not all beings are merely possible, but there must exist something the existence of which is necessary.

“But every necessary thing either has its necessity caused by another, or not. Now it is impossible to go on to infinity in necessary things which have their necessity caused by another, as has been already proved in regard to efficient causes.

“Therefore we cannot but postulate the existence of some being having of itself its own necessity, and not receiving it from another, but rather causing in others their necessity. This all men speak of as God.”

THE FOURTH WAY

The fourth way is one that many find it hard to follow. Arnold Lunn, though he wrote a book called Now 1 See, confesses that he found it impossible to see this way, and accordingly omits it in his exposition of St. Thomas’s arguments in answer to the question: “Utrum Deus sit?” It would be a pity if anyone should therefore conclude that this way is not secure and luminous.

1 The World Will and Representation. quoted by W. James, Some Problems of Philosophy. (p. 38).

The starting point of the fourth way is that there are in our experience not one thing only but things. These things are simply beings that participate in being. They have this in common, that they are. All things are, but all are not the same. In other words, all are not equally: they are not equally perfect, not equally good. Some are more perfect than others: but each has its own perfection, and each has something that the other has not. Nothing on earth can boast that it is everything that can be, that it is all perfect. Each thing has goodness, perfection, being, truth in greater or less measure: but none is the fulness of being and perfection, goodness and truth. We may say that things as we know them are “not half-bad”: they are more or less good, some better than others, some perhaps as good as we could possibly expect. But we look in vain for absolute perfection in this world. Things have a certain value, a certain amount of goodness, truth and beauty but they are not what they have. Theirs is a relative perfection. We do not find amongst them Perfection Itself.

The first step in the argument is: The relative supposes the Absolute. A relative perfection of being in an existing thing can be only a borrowed perfection. This point should be carefully noted, against the objection that the standard of perfection according to which relative perfections are gauged, and reckoned more or less is a purely ideal standard. The essence of this argument is that a thing that has perfection but is not perfection itself must be given what it has. There is a perfection that it shares. And as the thing that has perfection is not merely ideal but actually existing, so also must be the perfection that it shares.

The second step of the argument is: There cannot be merely an infinite series of things that share being and perfection with one another. There would then be still in all only a certain amount of borrowed perfection. The world would not be solvent: nothing would be worth Being. There would be no Source, no Fulness of which all things had received. But, as has been seen, all have received, each in its measure something of being. It follows that there must be a Being from whom all have received.

The conclusion is: There is a Source or Principle, the Perfection of all perfections: something that does not share in being, goodness, truth, nobility, but that is itself Being, Goodness and Perfection: something to which nothing was first given, but from which all things have received: something whose being is not to be measured as any amount, or evaluated as worth this or that, but something of itself worth being: something that could call Itself: I AM.

The argument, as St. Thomas puts it, runs as follows:

“Among beings there are some more and some less good, true, noble and the like.

“But “more” and “less” are predicated of different things, according as they resemble in their different ways something which is the maximum, as a thing is said to be hotter according as it more nearly resembles that which is hottest. So that there is something which is truest, something best, something noblest, and consequently something which is uttermost being, for those things that are greatest in truth are greatest in being, as it is written in Metaphys 11.

“Now the maximum in any genus is the cause of all in that genus; as fire, which is the maximum of heat, is the cause of all hot things.

“Therefore there must also be something which is to all beings the cause of their being, goodness and every other perfection. And this we call God.”

THE FIFTH WAY

The starting-point of the fifth way, which many think the easiest, is the fact that although there are many things, they are all in some sense one. There is a unity of order manifest in the world. This fact has impressed men in every age and not least in ours. It is attested even by a writer like Dr. Barnes, for whom “the old theology has perished.” “The world,” he says, (1) “is full of surprises and perplexities, but it is not chaos. There is Order within it. Reason and beauty and much goodness have gone to its making.” For astronomers, the suns and planets in the heavens are “armies of unconquerable law.” Chemists and physicists, and indeed scientists in every department of nature study, are offering as time goes on more and more evidence of the reign of universal law. This is indeed the great achievement of modern science, to which, as Sir James Jeans attests, “the universe begins to look more like a great thought than a great machine.”(2) But already in the last century Charles Darwin was so much impressed by his investigations into

1 Op. cit. p. 656. 2 The Mysterious Universe (p. 148). natural history that he insisted all through his writing that the world as he found it could not be the result of blind chance. “The understanding,” he wrote, “revolts from such a conclusion.” And yet Darwin, as Alfred Noyes points out, could only see in the wing of a butterfly:

The blaze of colour, the flash that lured the eye

He did not see the exquisite pattern there

The diamonded fans of the underwing

Inlaid with intricate harmonies of design,

The delicate little octagons of pearl

The moons like infinitesimal fairy flowers,

The lozenges of gold and grey and blue,

All ordered in an intellectual scheme,

Where form to form responded and faint lights

Echoed faint lights, and shadowy fringes ran

Like Elfin curtains on a silvery thread,

Shadows replying to shadow through the whole.(1)

Neither did Aquinas see that. His argument is based, not on the finality of a butterfly’s wing or of a flower or of the human eve, but on the more obvious fact that the world is ordered as a whole: it is a cosmos, something designed, harmonious.

All that the years discover points one way

To this great ordered harmony.

The first step in the argument is: Design implies an intelligent designer. This also is confirmed by modern science.

“We discover.” says Sir James Jeans, “that the universe shows evidence of a designing or controlling power.”(2)

The second step is that world design implies a world designer. “The admission of this idea” -”that the world had a plan as the tree seemed to have a plan-brought with it,” writes Chesterton, “another thought more thrilling and more terrible. There was Someone Else . . .”(3)

The conclusion is: There is an Intelligence that governs the universe, to which men give the name of God. “The fifth way,” writes St. Thomas, “is taken from the governance of the world. We see that things which look intelligence, such as natural bodies, act for an end; and this is evident from their acting always, or nearly always, in the same way, so as to obtain the best result. Hence it is plain that not fortuitously, but designedly, do they achieve their end.

“Now whatever lacks intelligence cannot move towards an end, unless it be directed by some being endowed with knowledge and intelligence; as the arrow is shot to its mark by the archer.

“Therefore, some intelligent Being exists by whom all natural things are directed to their end. And this Being we call God.”

These then are the Five Ways of St. Thomas. By them anybody who is content to accept the first principles of experience and of thought can come to the conclusion, which no mind that goes straight can miss, that there is a God.

But what God is remains to be determined. And St. Thomas will not hesitate to ask: Whether God is a body? Whether God is good? Whether God is infinite, and so on. He spent his life in answering, as no one else had ever answered, the question that was his preoccupation even as a boy

What is God? What is this First Cause, this Supreme Being, this Absolute? But the arguments which have been set down here prove to the point of demonstration that if by the word “God” is meant a Supreme Being, a First Mover, an Uncaused Cause, a Being that is necessary, an Absolute, a Being that rules the world, then God exists. The alternative is nothing; there is no alternative. In one word:

1 Alfred Noyes The Unknown God (p. 156).

2 Op. cit. (p. 149).

3 The Everlasting Man, People’s Library Edition (p. 308). If there is something, anything at all, there must be a God. But there is something.

Therefore there is a God.

EPILOGUE

“All men are vain in whom there is not the knowledge of God; and who by those good things that are seen, could not understand him that is neither by attending to the works have acknowledged who was the workman . . . For by the greatness of the beauty, and of the creature, the creator of them may be seen so as to be known thereby.” (Wisdom XIII. I & 5).

Nihil Obstat: JOSEPH P. NEWTH, C.C., Censor Theol. Deput.

Imprimi Potest:

@ IOANNES CAROLUS,

Archiep Dublinen.,

Hiberniae Primas. Dublini, die 13° Aug., anno 1957.

********

These Are My Heroes

BY EILEEN TAYLOR

INDEX

Almighty and everlasting God, merciful Father, since Thou hast today adopted as Thy children these Thy servants, grant, we implore Thee, that strengthened by the Holy Spirit and nourished by the Bread of Heaven, they may grow to full maturity in Christ. And may they always keep in mind their patron saints, so that by imitating them, they may attain to the eternal home of the Father.

Amen.

(Prayer from the Ritual for the administration of the Sacrament of Baptism.)

The saints of God -these are my heroes. They lived in different countries and different times; one was a king and one a lawyer, one a bishop and one a priest, and one founded a religious order; but something they all had in common was a great love for God.

Their names -Edward, Francis, Andrew, Thomas and John-are the names boys still use today. They are the names taken also at Confirmation, so that these saints are not only our heroes but our patrons. By reading about them we can learn something from their lives to make our own lives more what God wants them to be.

A SAINT WHO WAS A KING

ST. EDWARD (1003–1066)

ST. EDWARD was born almost at the beginning of a new century, in the year 1003, But although he lived so long ago, he is still remembered as one of the best kings that England has ever had, and many of the wise laws he made have remained to the present day. He was called Edward the Peacemaker, and if ever the world needed a true peacemaker, it needs one today. What, then, can this saint and hero teach us?

When Edward was a little boy England was in a state of war and unrest, and the Danish King, Canute, who ruled the country at that time, sent Edward and his brother Alfred, the rightful heirs to the throne, to Normandy, in France. Edward grew up in Normandy, leading a quiet and peaceful life. He was very fond of sport, particularly hunting and hawking, but at the same time he liked to spend much of his time at prayer, alone with God. Once during his prayer he made a vow, a very solemn promise, to make a pilgrimage to St. Peter’s tomb in Rome if it should be God’s Will to restore him to the English throne.

In the year 1042 the people of England sent to Edward to ask him to be their King. He agreed to this, although he knew it would be no easy task to rule a country that had been torn by many wars and unjust laws. He said to one of his friends: “I would not accept the greatest of monarchies if it were to cost the blood of a single man.

Edward came back to England, and was crowned King on Easter Sunday, 1042. He was now forty, very handsome to look at, and very gentle in manner. Many people thought he would be too easygoing, and after a few years another Danish king, Magnus, declared he would like to be King of England, and prepared to send Edward away again.

King Edward very firmly replied: “I sit on the throne as the descendant of the Eng lish monarchs, and I have been called to it by the free choice of the English people. Let Magnus come! I will raise no army against him, but he will never mount the throneof England until he has taken the life of Edward.”

The people were delighted with such an answer, and England entered upon a period of peace and prosperity such as it had not known for a long time. King Edward was kind and charitable to his people, particularly the poor. He freed them from an unjust tax they had paid to the Danes, and no further taxes were imposed upon them. Someone has written this great praise about him: “Those in trouble were not afraid to ask his help. He always welcomed those who came to see him,” It is not always easy to be able to welcome visitors, but Edward managed to do it.

The King now remembered his vow to go to Rome, but the people were so afraid that if he left the country the peace of the land might be broken again, that they begged him not to go. Edward pointed out that he must keep his vow, but he was moved by the fear of his people and wrote to the Pope to ask him what he should do.

The Pope understood how matters were in England. He freed King Edward from his vow and told him instead to give to the poor anything that he had collected for his journey, and also to build a church dedicated to St. Peter to make up for the wonderful St. Peter’s in Rome that he was never to see.

There is one thing about the saints -they always obey. Edward immediately set about putting aside money for the church he was to build, and finally it was completed. It is known today as Westminster Abbey, and it was here that, later on, the King was to be buried.

In the year 1065 Edward went to London to be present at the beautiful ceremony of the Dedication of the church he had built. But, as so often happens, he was not to witness the crowning glory to his work. On Christmas Eve he became very ill, yet he practised his usual self-control by appearing as cheerful as ever and carrying on with his ordinary duties. He asked his wife, Queen Edith, to see to the proper decoration of the church for the Consecration ceremony, but despite all his efforts, Edward was too ill to be present himself on the great day. His work for God and his people was almost over, and on January 5th, 1066, he died. His feast is not kept on this day, but on October 13th, the day when St. Thomas a’Becket removed St. Edward’s body from its first burial place to the shrine in the Abbey where it still rests.

There are several lessons that we can learn from the life of St. Edward, but perhaps two stand out above the rest. The first is his great love for peace, a peace that he always had within his own soul, and that he also won for his country. No wars, no arguments, no conferences were used to obtain this peace; his every-day good example and peaceful living among his own people were the weapons of victory.

The second lesson is his faithful fulfilling of God’s Will. King Edward knew that to be a saint he must do God’s Will, and for him this Will of God consisted in trying to do at all times what he knew to be right for his country, his people and himself.

St. Edward, the Peacemaker, who always tried to do God’s Will, is a wonderful hero and patron for any boy.

II

A SAINT WHO FOUNDED A RELIGIOUS ORDER

ST. FRANCIS OF ASSISI (1182–1226)

THE streets of Assisi were bathed with sunlight. Down them rode Francis Bernardone, a smile on his lips, a song in his heart. Francis was young and happy, the leader of the young men of his city; and he had wonderful dreams of winning honour and glory in the wars that were always being fought between the Italian cities of his day.

Francis was the son of Peter and Pica Bernardone.

He was born in Assisi in the year 1182, and, as Peter Bernardone was a wealthy and well-respected citizen, his son was given a good education and took his place as unquestioned leader among those who would now be called teenagers.

Nothing disturbed the carefree and happy life of Francis until he was twenty. Then Assisi and the neighbouring territory of Perugia declared war, and Francis’s heart leapt high. Here was his chance at last! Riding his noble horse and dressed in splendid clothing, Francis rode gaily to the war. But alas for his dreams! The Assisians were defeated and Francis was taken prisoner. But even prison could not dampen the joy that he always felt. His fellow-prisoners said: “You are mad to be merry in prison.”

Francis just smiled at them. But at the same time he became more thoughtful, and he could not help wondering about the life he had been leading. Perhaps God wanted more of him than an empty, carefree life. At length the prisoners were set free, and! Francis returned to Assisi. His friends noticed that although he was always cheerful he was much quieter than before, and Francis himself found no satisfaction in his old pleasures.

He prayed and waited. One day he made a visit to the Church of St. Damian, outside Assisi, and as he knelt before the Crucifix, a voice seemed to come from the figure of Christ on the Cross.

“Go and repair My Church for Me.”

Francis was very astonished, and in a trembling voice, replied:

“Gladly will I do it, dear Lord.”

Our Lord meant Francis to help restore His Church to spiritual fervour, but the eager young man noticed that St. Damian’s was falling to ruins, and immediately set about rebuilding it. His father was angry with him and finally disowned him, and Francis cried out that in future he would have no father but God in Heaven.

For a while Francis lived as a hermit, wearing a tunic of rough sacking tied round the waist with a cord. He wanted to be very poor for the sake of Our Lord, Who sometimes had not even a pillow on which to lay His head. But Francis was not by himself for long. Just as companions had gathered round him when he was rich, so they came to him now that he was poor, but this time for a different reason. They wanted Francis to teach them to love God as he did, and to share his life of prayer and poverty. And although Francis did not realize it, this was the beginning of the great Franciscan Order, because as the years went on many other followers walked in the way Francis led. Priests, brothers, nuns, men and women in the world all claimed Francis of Assisi as their spiritual father.

So many happenings were crowded in the life of Francis that all could not possibly be told here, but some events stand out from the rest. Francis was very happy when Pope Honorius III gave his approval to the Franciscan Order, and he decided to celebrate Christmas in a very special way in thanksgiving. He went with some of his friars to a little country place called Greccio, where the Pope had given them permission to offer Midnight Mass in the , open. An altar was erected, and beside it Francis made a little Crib like the ones seen churches today at Christmas time. But there was something different about this Crib, because it was the first one to be made to commemorate the birth of Our Lord at Bethlehem long ago.

The people came in great numbers to the Midnight Mass, and they gazed with delight at the Crib. Francis himself knelt at the side of the altar. He was not a priest, only a deacon, because he had such great reverence for the priesthood that he would not be ordained. He used to kneel down and kiss the ground where a priest had walked. When the priest came to the Elevation of the Mass, Francis looked up at the Sacred Host and saw for a minute the Holy Child from the Crib smiling at him and holding out His arms.

Another time Francis, like Our Lord before him, went up a mountain to pray. This mountain was called Alverna, and Francis wanted to be quite alone so that he could be more united to God. Francis had always had a great love for the Passion of Our Lord, and perhaps as a reward for this devotion he was now signed with the marks of the Stigmata- the wounds of Christ in his own human body.

When he had finished his prayer Francis noticed his hands and feet, and he felt a burning fire near his heart. In all these places were the glowing wounds that Our Lord had first received on Calvary, and which Francis was to carry till his death. No wonder he would often exclaim: “My Love is crucified.”

It was only two years after this that Francis died. He was not an old man, only forty-four years of age, but he was worn out with his work and love for God. When he knew that his last moments had come, he asked his brother Franciscans gathered round him to lift him out of bed and rest him on the bare ground, that he might die as he had lived, a poor man for the love of God. St. Francis of Assisi was canonized by Pope Gregory IX only two years after his death, and his feast is kept on October 4th.

Like all the saints, Francis can teach us many lessons, but these two may be singled out: his great love and respect for priests, and his devotion to the sufferings and death of Christ.

St. Francis of Assisi, teach us to reverence Our Lord in His priests, and to love Him in His Sacred Passion.

III

A SAINT WHO WAS A BISHOP

ST. ANDREW CORSINI (1301–1375)

NICHOLAS and Gemma Corsini were very sad because they had no children. They prayed for many years for a child, and promised that if their prayers were heard they would offer the little one in a special way to God through Our Blessed Lady.

Before their prayers were answered Gemma had a strange dream. She thought she saw a savage wolf running to the church. She followed it, and after waiting for a while she noticed that it slowly changed to a gentle lamb.

On the feast of St. Andrew, 30th November, 1301, Nicholas and Gemma were able to thank God for having sent them a beautiful baby boy whom they named Andrew after the Apostle. Little Andrew belonged to a rich and noble family, and his parents sent him to the best schools where he always did well because he was very clever. As he grew older he noticed how the other rich people lived and he wanted to be like them; the world seemed a wonderful place to the young boy. He wanted his own horses and dogs, and more than anything else he wanted a gun, because in those days people were always fighting between themselves and Andrew thought it would be great if perhaps he could kill some of his enemies. He became more worldly than ever, he would not obey his mother and father, and laughed at them if they tried to correct him.

One day, when he had spoken very rudely to his mother, she answered him sternly: “I think, my son, that you must be the wolf I saw in my dream.”

She had never spoken about the dream before, and Andrew was surprised at his mother’s words. He asked her to explain them.

“Tell me, mother, what do you mean,” he said.

“Listen carefully to what I am going to say, answered his mother, and she went on to tell him all about the wolf that had changed to a lamb, and how, because of her promise before he was born, Andrew really belonged more to Our Blessed Lady than to his own parents.

Poor Andrew! He was only fifteen and very upset to think of all the sorrow he had brought to his good mother and father, so he turned to Our Lady and begged her and the Divine Child to help him to behave as a lamb in future and not like a wild wolf.

Next morning Andrew went to the Carmelite Church, and in front of Our Lady’s altar he repeated his prayer. Then he rose from his knees, and went straight to Father Jerome, the Provincial of the Carmelites. He knelt down before him and asked very earnestly to be received as a postulant in the Order.

Father Jerome, of course, was much surprised to see the worldly Andrew Corsini before him, and still more so to hear his request. He spoke kindly to the boy, but would not give him an answer immediately.

When Andrew left him Father Jerome went quickly to the boy’s parents to tell them what had happened. Nicholas and Gemma were filled with joy, and told the priest that if their son could be a Carmelite their dearest wish would come true. Very soon, though he was so young, Andrew was given the brown habit of the Carmelite Order, and from that time he tried to live as a saint would live.

In the monastery the Fathers remembered what a wild life their new novice had once led, and also how rich he had been, so they made up their minds to test him. He was given the hardest and humblest work about the place, and those who had once been his friends out in the world laughed at all he had to do now. But he took no notice of them, and tried his best-even though it was not always easy-to be faithful to his daily duties for the love of God and Our Lady.

At last it was time for Andrew to be ordained a priest and to offer his first holy Mass. This is a wonderful day in the life of any priest, and it was particularly so for Andrew, because after Communion Our Lady appeared to him, and said: “You are my servant, I have chosen you, and wilt be glorified in you.

Father Andrew, who was so good at his school work when a boy, was now sent to the University of Paris, because when God makes a person clever it is good to use that cleverness for Him. Father Andrew wrote books, too, and he loved to explain the meaning of the writings of the Bible.

He was so wise and good that later on he was made Prior of the Carmelites in Florence, a beautiful Italian city, then Provincial of all Tuscany, and, finally, he was appointed Bishop of Fiesole. It was while he was Bishop that Andrew Corsini, who had once been a little boy longing to fight with a gun, became known as the peacemaker, because he tried so tirelessly to get people to live at peace with one another.

One Christmas when Bishop Andrew was offering Midnight Mass in the Cathedral at Fiesole, Our Lady appeared to him again. This time she came to tell him that he who had so faithfully served her on earth would soon be with her Divine Son forever in Heaven. The holy Carmelite was overjoyed to hear the news, and at once began to prepare for his death.

On January 6th, 1375, the Feast of the Epiphany, just as Our Lady had said, St. Andrew Corsini died very peacefully with this prayer on his lips: “Now dismiss Thy servant, 0 Lord, in peace.” After his death many miracles were worked when people prayed to him, and Pope Urban VIII canonized him as a saint. His feast is kept on February 4th.

Boys with bad tempers can learn from St. Andrew that with grace and perseverance it is possible to overcome their anger and impatience. They can also imitate him in his great devotion to Our Blessed Lady.

IV

A SAINT WHO WAS A LAWYER

ST. THOMAS MORE (1478–1535)

IN the days when England was still completely Catholic there lived in London a little boy who showed by his life that people can live in the world as ordinary lay-folk, yet become saints just as much as Popes and bishops, hermits and nuns.

Thomas More was born on February 7th 1478. He grew up with his three sisters and one brother in a good Catholic household, and when he was quite young his father saw that this son of his was going to be very clever. Thomas knew he was clever, too, but he realized that his cleverness was a gift of God, and he studied very earnestly in order to make good use of the talents God had given him.

He knew, however, what a great saint had once said, that “prayer without study is presumption; study without prayer infidelity.” Therefore his duty to God always came first, and while he learned all he could about literature, science and music, all these studies were based on a foundation of deep and true piety. Life at Oxford University in the days of Thomas More did not always help a student towards a faithful practice of his religion, yet young Thomas received Holy Communion frequently, and later when he was Chancellor of England, he was at Mass every morning, and quite often he acted as altar boy.

After More left Oxford, he continued his studies at Lincoln’s Inn, because his father wanted him to be a lawyer, and it was here that young men studied law. But Thomas was not quite certain of his future. He was certainly very keen about law, but, like many another young man, he wondered if God might be calling him to be a priest. To make quite sure he went to live with the Carthusian Monks at their Monastery, called a Charterhouse, in London. He stayed there for four years, not as a monk, but just as a layman, working, praying and studying, and asking God all the time to make known His Will.

Finally Thomas was convinced that he should return to the world, and although he loved the life of a monk, he was quite determined that he was meant to serve God faithfully and loyally as a lawyer and father of a family. When he was twenty-six he was made a member of Parliament, and the next year he married.

What a happy place was that More household. He loved his wife and children, and together they assisted at Holy Mass before the work of the day commenced. All the time Sir Thomas More could spare from the affairs of state he spent with his family, helping the children with their lessons, taking part in their games, sharing their childish joys and sorrows. People loved to visit the Mores because they were always so contented and happy together. At the close of the day they would all gather round Sir Thomas as he led the family prayers.

The old King had died and the new King of England was Henry VIII. He was very fond of Thomas More and was not happy until he had the young lawyer near him at the Royal Court. King Henry raised Thomas to the highest office in the land by creating him Lord Chancellor of England. What a long way he had come from the little boy at Oxford. Here he was now at the peak of fame, loved and honoured by the King, respected by all who knew him, with wealth and a beautiful home and his loving wife and children.

But the Lord Chancellor was to be tested, and in the testing he showed that he was still the same Thomas More who was determined to put loyalty to God and his conscience before any other loyalties. Henry VIII wanted to marry again while his wife, Queen Catherine, was still living. Of course, not even the Pope himself could give Henry permission to do this, and the King was so angry that he would no longer obey the Pope, but set himself up as head of the Church in England.

To make his position quite clear, Henry called on his subjects to take an oath declaring him to be head of the Church. He was particularly anxious for Sir Thomas More to take this oath, because the Lord Chancellor was so respected by everyone. Sir Thomas had gone to London with his son-inlaw to hear Mass at St. Paul’s, and while he was there he was summoned to take the new oath. He returned home to prepare for this ordeal. He went to Mass and received Holy Communion, as he always did before any serious event, then he said goodbye to his dear family, and took a last look at his happy home.

Sir Thomas refused to take the oath! The king and his court were astounded. They pointed out that others had taken it, people who were considered very good Catholics, even Bishops and priests; but the Lord Chancellor remained firm. Others must look to their own consciences, he said, but he could not make a decision that would cause danger to his immortal soul, and he firmly believed that in spiritual matters the Pope alone was Head of the Church.

Thomas More was imprisoned in the Tower of London, and all the time he was there he prepared himself for the death he knew would come. In prison, too, just as at home, he was cheerful and contented and tried to make others happy. Finally, on July 6th, 1535, he was beheaded, a brave martyr who died because of his loyalty to the Pope and the Church.

What are some of the lessons we can learn from the life of St. Thomas More? One could be the lesson of praying earnestly about our vocation in life, asking God to show us what He wants us to do just as St. Thomas did. And we can also imitate St Thomas More in his devotion to the Pope. We should pray often for the Holy Father in these troubled times.

The feast of St. Thomas More is kept on July 6th

V

A SAINT WHO WAS A PARISH PRIEST

ST. JOHN VIANNEY (1786–1859)

M. and Mme. VIANNEY lived in France in a small village named Dardilly. They were farmers, and already had three sons when in the year 1786 another little boy was born to them. They called the baby John Baptist.

John was only three when the French Revolution broke out. The churches were closed, the Angelus bell was silenced, priests were declared traitors, and if they were caught they were cruelly put to death by the guillotine. This meant that while young John was growing up Mass could only be offered secretly in a barn, in a quiet cave, or some other hidden place, and it was not until he was ten that he was able to receive his First Holy Communion.

Everyone thought John Vianney was a very dull young man. They called him a clumsy, uncouth ploughboy, even though they all agreed that he was very holy. When he was nineteen he astonished his people by telling them that he wanted to be a priest, and he went to live with a good priest named Father Bahley, who tried to educate John for the priesthood. It was hard work, and John himself realized it. He decided there were two things which he could do, and these he did. He prayed and did acts of mortification.

In the meantime Napoleon was in power in France, and ordered all young men to be called up for the army. John had to go, but almost immediately he became ill and was taken to hospital. When he recovered he tried to catch up with his regiment, but he was too tired and exhausted to reach it, and he found shelter with a kind man for whom he did odd jobs about the house. After a while one of his young brothers took his place in the army, and John was free to enter a Seminary to continue his studies for the priesthood.

But here it was the same old story. John Vianney just could not learn Latin or theology. He failed in his examinations and was sent home. But good Father Bailey came to the rescue again, and he kept persevering with teaching his slow pupil, until at long last John was ordained a priest. After three years Father Vianney was sent to a little village called Ars to be Parish Priest there. Those in authority thought that Ars did not need a clever, popular priest, and in this they were really right; what Ars actually needed was a Parish Priest who was a saint. And Father John Vianney was that saint!

The people of Ars were kind and friendly, but were very careless in their spiritual duties. They liked their priest, but they weren’t going to be bothered listening to his sermons (if he could preach at all!), or going to him to Confession (if he knew anything about forgiving sins!).

As before, Father Vianney prayed and did penance, and gradually, without anyone noticing it, Ars was a different place. The people went to Mass and the Sacraments, they flocked to Father Vianney’s confessional, they would rather confess to him than to any other priest in France; they listened eagerly to his sermons, because it is simple words and old truths over and over again that help most. Soon men, women and children, the rich and the poor, came crowding into Ars to go to Confession to its holy priest, Father John Vianney, who had failed in his examinations, whom everyone had thought dull and lazy. Ars could not hold all the people, and still they came. Father Vianney, they had heard, was a saint, and he could read people’s souls; they wanted his blessing, they wanted to speak to him.

And how did Father Vianney become such a success? He may not have been clever, but he knew quite well what another priest was to say of him years later, “that to be a priest means to sacrifice your whole life for others for Christ’s sake.” And so he gave his whole day to his people.He got up at one o’clock in the morning, and prayed for a long time, because he knew that work without prayer would not have lasting results. He offered Mass, he heard Confessions, he visited the poor, the sick, the sinners; he heard more Confessions, he preached to the people, he prayed again, and he went to bed at midnight! But when did he eat? During the day he ate a few boiled potatoes, and sometimes an egg, and he had this poor meal standing up. Yet he lived to be seventy-three, keeping up this sort of life all day long, every day, all through the years.

But at last it was time for Father Vianney to earn the reward of his priestly life. He knew that he was soon to die, and agreed to leave his hard bed of two wooden boards for a soft mattress, and to let his parishioners look after him, as they had always longed to do.

“It is my poor end,” he whispered with tears in his eyes. “I do not know whether I have carried out my duties well or not.”

He received the Last Sacraments, and in the very early hours of an August morning in the year 1859, he died peacefully, just as the young priest at his bedside was reading this beautiful prayer: “May the holy angels of God come to meet him, and lead him into the heavenly City.”

One lesson that stands out straight away in the life of St. John Vianney is that of perseverance. See how he kept on struggling, despite so many obstacles, to achieve his great ambition to become a priest. We should pray to St. John Vianney for our own parish priests and curates that he will help them in the same work that he once had to do.

The feast of St. John Vianney is celebrated on August 9th.

Nihil Obstat:

W. M. COLLINS, Censor Diocesan.

Imprimatur:

@ DANIEL MANNIX,

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis. 12th March, 1957

********

These Terrible Jesuits

BY REV. D. A. LORD, S. J

INDEX

I LAID aside the book with a feeling of startled chagrin. “My stars!” said I, to nobody in particular. “We’re a terrible gang, we Jesuits! Liars and hypocrites and rank cheats! We’ve no more morality than a coyote, and when we do a good action it’s spoiled by some sinister ulterior motive. We’re either proud, arrogant fanatics who stop at nothing to attain our ends, or we’re poor, broken-spirited cowards afraid to face the world without the shield of a disguise, or we are deceitful villains who, before the public, wear carefully adjusted halos and carry palms, while in our private hearts we hate our Society, quarrel furiously with our superiors, envy and slander one another, and know ourselves for pious frauds.

“And,” I concluded, still more or less to the empty air, “the really terrifying and astonishing part of it all is that during the twenty years of my life as a Jesuit, twenty years of interesting work, high ideals, and happy associations, I’ve never suspected what a gang of cutthroats and hypocrites I’d joined.”

I AM DECEIVED

So I buried my abashed head in my hands. Wouldn’t you, if you were one of these terrible Jesuits against whom everybody has so often been warned?

I’ve been a Jesuit for almost twenty years-a happy, contented, fairly busy Jesuit, who, for some unexplained reason, has never had a quarrel with his Superiors nor a serious disagreement with his fellow Jesuits, who has stupidly thought it all rather fine, who had the bad sense to take up the life because he felt he’d do good in it, and the bad taste to continue the life because he loved it. Heavens above, what a chump I’ve been!

All the while I’ve been wrong! The Jesuits are really not a group of very companionable men working for the greater glory of God, but a band of deluded fools, commanded by unscrupulous rogues. If I had had the slightest grain of sense or an eye in my head, I’d have seen the frightful hypocrisy of the life, felt the killing chill of its formalism, and had the courage to leave the Society and write a book exposing it. I’m worse than wicked; I’m stupid. And even I, deluded fool that I am, don’t like to be considered stupid.

Of course the particular book I had read was not really unusual. A great many men have written terrible expositions of the Society of Jesus. In fact the Jesuits have been rather proud of their enemies. It takes a strong man to make a strong enemy, and the Jesuits have had them, strong to the point of violence. Usually they have been men who hated the Church, as Dumas did or Eugene Sue or Joseph McCabe. And I have been inclined to laugh a bit at their books. “Perverted sense of humour,” you may say of me.

JESUITS A LA DUMAS

There is that famous election of the Jesuit General related by Dumas with Dumas’s marvellous gift for narrative- and fiction. It is riotously funny to anyone who ever read the Constitutions of the Society or has even a remote connection with the group of grave priests who meet in a dull, routine sort of meeting and pray God to help them choose the right kind of man.

But Dumas, who has never been accused of being a humourist, did a Mark Twain page or two that time. With great gusto he describes, as I remember it, the dying” Franciscan “ carried into the inn in the dead of night (the right setting for these desperate conspirators). One by one the distinguished personages gather at his command-a cardinal, a prince, a nobleman, a Highland chief, Aramis. You remember that impressive conclave that springs up like jinn at the rub of a ring.

Each tells the dying man a secret. (As if secrets would do a dying man any particular good!) Then he places the ring upon the finger of Aramis, for Aramis had whispered in the ear of the dying Jesuit General (ah-ha! it was he all the time!) the secret of the Man with the Iron Mask. And with the slipping of the ring upon his finger Aramis rises the new Jesuit General, and all kneel to kiss his hand. His had been the most important secret, and though he had never been a Jesuit, he leaped in a single bound to the post of General of the Society. The Arabian Nights has no tale so weird or utterly improbable.

OR ACCORDING TO SUE

Or you may remember the Jesuits whose horrible figures haunt the pages (and afterwards, no doubt, the readers) of Eugene Sue’s “The Wandering Jew “-the smooth, polished ecclesiastical diplomat, using his cleverness as a weapon, working with oily lies, shameless hypocrisy, cultured charm, and personal attractiveness, to wrest a fortune from its rightful inheritors to the malevolent purposes of the Society; and his “socius” and successor, the brutal, ruthless, murderous priest, who stops at nothing (for, as everyone knows, “the end justifies the means “) to gain the fortune which craft and diplomacy have failed to gain; and the lovable, simple beautiful youth tricked into joining the Jesuits, but living to know and hate them for their wickedness, hate them from the depths of his pure and Christ-like heart.

Eugene Sue did some clever work in those characters, but did it on the principle of the famous scientist who, to find out what a giraffe was like, pulled down the blinds and thought up a giraffe out of his own head. If Sue had dropped into any Jesuit church or college (not so inaccessible to a Frenchman of his day), and talked to any priest he had met in the corridors, or sought Out a Jesuit confessional or classroom. . . . . But why bind oneself with the stifling bonds of fact when the imagination can do so much better? Surely the creeping, crawling poison-concealed-in-the-ring Jesuit (all Jesuits, as everyone knows, wear several poison-bearing rings) is so much better fiction material than Marquette the explorer, or Bellarmine the philosopher, or Kircher the scientist, or DeSmet the missionary, or Father Jones teaching a class of boys who dog his footsteps like adoring poodles, or Father Smith, whose confessional is the haven from dawn to midnight of the broken men and sad women of a great city.

IT’S ENEMIES SPEAK

Of course Joseph McCabe, to whom facts are trifles, not to disturb the course of his pen, and history an instrument on which to play discords, who hates the Church he deserted as Voltaire hated it, or as Benedict Arnold hated his betrayed country, may be expected to give us a highly doctored picture of the Jesuits and their history. To him they are rogues, plain rogues; but for that matter, to him the Popes are scoundrels, and the saints deluded or deluding fools. Jesuits smile happily when the Joseph McCabes of the world pause to fling mud and stones.

Yet, when a disgruntled, rebellious Jesuit leaves his Order to talk furiously against it, we Jesuits, who love it more with every year of our lives, are vaguely troubled. After reading Dumas or Sue or Joseph McCabe we look into the mirror to see if, like the little boyplaying pirate, we are not so terrible that we’re “skeered of ourselves.” After an ex-Jesuit writes about us, we feel more like going to the chapel to pray,

It’s odd how eager we all are to listen to a man who be -labours and abuses anything. We do not bring half the enthusiasm to the man who tells us how fine something is. While criticism sets us all atingle with interest, praise quite frankly bores us. Sharp-tongued women tearing an absent sister to quivering shreds are not the only ones who love to hear characters shattered and institutions called bad names. Some twisted instinct seems so often to make men love the pen that is dipped in hatred and venom, and feel affronted by the pen dipped in kindliness and appreciation.

A HAPPY JESUIT

Yet I, as a Jesuit, out of a pleasant experience of nearly twenty years, venture to speak of the Society that shelters me. I have been very happy in the Society, and I think it has done and is doing astonishingly fine work. I’m past the first youthful period of enthusiasm, for forty years are about to fall on my graying head, and almost twenty years of life in the Society lie behind me. Each year of my life has made me love the Society a little more, and has bound me just a little closer to my fellow Jesuits. I am uninteresting, for the simple fact that I am content; only the turbulent and rebellious are really interesting, it seems. I am truly and honestly happy in my life, and I can fancy no other life that would give me half the mental contentment I find in the Society. I have been offered opportunities at which men in other professions would jump; I prefer what I have to anything anyone could offer me.

So why should not I who am happy speak my happiness as freely as the discontented speak their discontent? Why should not I speak of the satisfaction I find in the Society, when some few who have left it speak so loudly of their dissatisfaction? Happiness need not be silent because unhappiness is so vocal. If the thousands of happy, contented Jesuits do not speak when a former associate tells of the not surprising causes that led him to take off his cassock, it is perhaps because a “happy country has no history,” and a normal Jesuit takes his happiness so much for granted that he never thinks that it might make interesting news. He is a little afraid that it is not quite decent to parade before the world what he considers to be God’s best gift.

Everywhere, if you come to think of it, the discontented man is the one with the loud voice and the strident complaint. The happily married do not find their way into the newspapers, nor does the successful banker protest that he has a good bank. The happy and the successful are usually too busy enjoying their happiness to talk much about it.

WITHOUT ORDERS

Just to allay the inevitable suspicion, “He was told to do this by clever superiors,” let me assure the reader, on my word of honour, that no superior knows that I write these lines. A superior will know it before the lines are published. A very wise rule prevents a Jesuit from rushing into print until his manuscript undergoes a preliminary reading by competent scholars; but that will not be until the manuscript is finished and ready to be published. So, in the background of this booklet, there is no overshadowing black figure saying to me in sibilant whispers, “Write a sweet, happy, Pollyannish story of Jesuit life, one that will allure callow youth and deceive a gullible public.” I write because I want to. Though I might, as my train flies across the country, read the detective story I picked up at the station, or write letters to my friends, or look out of the window at this gorgeous Washington scenery (I do that sometimes, even as I write). I prefer to tell those who care to hear of the Society that has mothered me so tenderly, been so stern but skilful a nurse, that left an open door by which I might have left if I chose, but that kept me without violence because of its ideals, its opportunities for interesting work, its spiritual possibilities, its delightful association with congenial men, and because, though it asked me to give up everything for Christ, it then gave me back Christ, and with Him everything I could desire.

I JOIN THE JESUITS

I entered the Society of Jesus at the age of twenty-one, a college graduate. Certainly I was not a credulous child, and certainly I knew clearly what I was doing. With me were a group of thirty-eight young men, as varied in temperament and antecedents as a group could possibly be. For the first two years it was my privilege, as a novice, to pack my bags and turn my back on my new life at any moment I wished. In fact, had I shown fundamental discontent or dissatisfaction to my novice master, an unfitness for the life, or a dislike for it, he would have promptly handed me my return ticket and advised me to use it. The silly idea that the Jesuit or any other Religious lives in a sort of penitentiary, behind locked doors and barred windows is the most delicious fancy.

After two years I took my simple vows, promised to live the life as I had been taught to lead it, but always with the understanding that if I did not satisfy the Society or the Society did not satisfy me I could be dispensed from my vows and return to the world, freed from my obligations. The Society, of course, could not dismiss me without grave fault on my part, nor could I seek exemption from my vows without honourable, just reasons.

Of the thirty-eight who entered with me, one left before the end of the two years. He did not feel he belonged, and that simply settled the matter. Three left in the course of the next sixteen years, and took up useful and honourable places in Catholic and civil life. Not one of them would say one word against the Society. They simply preferred another life, and left the Society with respect and admiration. That, by the way, is the attitude toward the Society characteristic of the average ex-Jesuit. He does not care to stay, but he recognizes, even when he goes, the value and beauty of the life. The vigorous complainers or the difficult characters arc the ones who burst into vituperative print.

BECAUSE I LIKED JESUITS

One reason why men, like myself, smile so broadly at the terrifying pictures of Jesuits is because the first thought of entering the Society usually comes to them from the fact that they have seen and much admired Jesuits. I, for example, as a boy at college, vastly admired the intellectual aliveness, the deep calm of soul, the fine, hearty, normal life of one of the professors. I envied him his life, and decided to follow it. When you come to think of it, example is the thing that draws most of mankind into any particular line of work. We admire a surgeon and turn to surgery. We admire a lawyer and think of law.

So if the Jesuit is not attractive, if, on the contrary, he is the violently repellent character sketched in hostile pictures of Jesuits, he has a slim chance of drawing youths to follow his example. Yet in the novitiate I found that most of my fellow-novices had come, because in history or life they had met and admired some Jesuit, saw that he was as unlike the Jesuit of fiction as sunlight is unlike shadow, and said to themselves, “I’d be lucky if I could be what he is, and as content and happy as he seems to be.”

Believe me, eighty boys and men, the number who now yearly become Jesuits in the Middle West alone, are not drawn to a difficult life either by hypocrites or by the crushed, broken-spirited victims of the ruthless system pictured in fiction, even the fiction that calls itself fact.

NO DECOYS

No one ever spoke to me of being a Jesuit until I had first, of my own accord, approached my Jesuit friend. I found later on that the Jesuit rule forbade any Jesuit’s trying to influence anyone to enter the Society. When I came to apply for admission, theofficial examiners asked me (by force of law, I later discovered). “Has anyone induced or persuaded you to take this step?” Had I answered “yes,” I would have been sent away and told to wait.

THE GLAMOUR OF A NAME

As is true of anyone who ever read even a smattering of history, the Jesuit name had for me something of glamour. History, Protestant as well as Catholic, has thrown romantic associations around the black robe. Here were a group of men who had invaded wildernesses of America and squalid cities of forbidden Tibet; who had been equally at home in the courts of Europe and the tepees of Sioux or Hurons; who had built and then been robbed of spiritual empires like that of Paraguay; who had gone, like Xavier, further and more daringly than any conquistador; whose steps had preceded the steps of pioneers arid explorers; who had not been held back from the persecuting England of Elizabeth and the Stuarts nor from the blood-soaked Ireland of Cromwell by the rack and gallows that were their certain fate; who had built flourishing Catholic communities in Japan and China, and had stayed to die when the Emperors boiled Christians over the sulphur pits of Nagasaki or imprisoned them, like wild beasts, in open cages, that were carted in savage exhibitions from city to city; who fought with pure lives and high courage the leaders of the Reformation, and were in the forefront of the battle line that stopped Luther on the borders of Austria, and drove Calvin from his strongholds in France; who to-day are found in every civilized country of the world and go to the missions in a large and efficient group of modern missionaries.

If a young man loves a great fighter or a daring explorer, whether the explorations lead him into the wilderness of a new world or into the perilous realms of philosophy and theology, he would be likely to feel, as I certainly felt, the thrill of Jesuit history, crowded by great deeds and punctuated with the approval of the Popes, who have regarded the Jesuits as “the papal bodyguard” and “the free-lances of Christ.

THE COMPLIMENT OF HATRED

A man is judged quite as much from his enemies as from his friends. Since this is so true, I felt that the Society must be a distinguished organization. Every man who has hated Christ and the Church has hated, from the depths of his soul, the Society of Jesus. The French rationalists of the eighteenth century, bent on driving the Church from France and Christ from the altars, hated and attacked first the Society. Pombal of Portugal, determined to subjugate the Church to the Crown, first drove the Jesuits from every Portuguese boundary. England, hounding its Catholic subjects to extinction, killed seminary priests whenever found, but built the highest and brightest bonfires for the captured Jesuits. And it was just a very few years before I entered the novitiate, that modern French infidels began their war on the Church and religion by the expulsion of the Jesuits. Every sort of literate or illiterate Catholic-hater in America, in the last few years, has shown his hatred for the Society of Jesus, not one member of which, in all likelihood, he has ever seen.

If, I argued, men who hate Christ and hate the Catholic Church so venomously hate the Society of Jesus, Jesuits must have given them good cause; and that cause should be reason enough for the Church to be grateful to the Society and for Christ to regard it with approving eyes. The argument may not appeal to one who is not a Catholic, but it certainly appealed to me.

A FEARFU1 PLUNGE

One does not, however, live in history. One lives in a very real and important present. All the ancient glamour in the world will not keep a man satisfied in any organization whose ideals and methods he despises, and whose members he dislikes. No one picks out a deserted castle for his home just because it happens to be haunted by a flock of noble and distinguished ghosts.

Yet, though I had admired the Jesuits I met, and liked Jesuit ideals, in so far as I was acquainted with them, I entered the novitiate fearfully. Such a change that was from the rushing, turbulent city of my birth to quiet, slumbrous old Florissant in Missouri; such a complete re-adjustment was necessary from the care-free life of a very callow, but very active, collegian to the life of a novice, for whom conversation during a feast-day dinner (where silence and reading are the rule) was an event, and a long walk (for one who had loved the Theatre and dancing and gay college life), was a memorable affair.

In that first moment it seemed as if all I had loved and lived for were gone forever. I can remember walking out to stand on the little mound in the graveyard, (symbolic position), and turning regretful, wistful eyes toward the vague lustre against the sky that was the reflected night-light of not distant St. Louis.

Then came the swift plunge into the work of my new life, and everything else took second place. Externally uneventful, my days were filled with the thrill of an inward revolution that was incidentally a wonderful evolution. Cut off from society, I found a delightful companionship that I had never dreamed possible. Though so many of my old standards and ideals were set aside, my mind and soul and heart were filled with the most engrossing and inspiring new realities. While my hand was busy slipping plates on to the long dining-room table, hoeing an unfamiliar row in the garden, or scrubbing pots and pans in the scullery (for there was a routine of work that must have been much like the work of the boy Christ in Nazareth), my mind was opening to a new and limitless vision, a vision of brave men fighting for noble causes, under a banner whose Ad Majorem Del Gloriam suddenly had a tremendous significance to me, and with a Captain Who bore aloft the standard of His invincible cross. Call it unreal or fanciful if you wish; but if you do you must apply the same adjectives to the aspirations of every young soul that dreams of serving Christ and his fellow men.

New ideals of loyalty to Christ, purity of soul, disinterested service of one’s fellowmen, made the most commonplace day memorable, and one came running to his assigned work with “Here I am, Lord” on his lips.

MY COMRADES

And around me were a group of fifty-seven novices, delightful fellows for the most part, who laughed easily, talked high talk, played ball as if a world’s championship hung in the balance, and built up the foundations of deep, true, loyal friendships that, thank God, stand the strains of life. All congenial? All angelic in temperament? All thoroughly agreeable? The simple answer to that is the fact that perfectly normal young men, not bands of seraphim, join the Society. But nowhere in the world-of that I am certain- is unpleasantness of character more quickly suppressed, tolerance and consideration more generally shown, a broader sympathy manifested, and deeper friendliness experienced, than in a Jesuit novitiate.

CAST IN A MOULD

There is a sort of persistent legend to the effect that the young Jesuits are put into a sort of concrete mould and turned out exactly to the same pattern, like so many spiritual Fords or so many West Point uniforms. Of course any man who believes that legend has never met more than one Jesuit. Fancy the brilliant and popular Father Vaughan beside the shy little spiritual Father in a small community; or William Doyle, the English chaplain, slain at the front, beside the studious, scholarly, but retiring professor of philosophy. Take four Jesuits in any community, and you will have four distinct types of men, with divergent characteristics.

Remember,” our novice master insisted from the start, “nature is the foundation of grace. Keep your natural gifts and develop them; God gave you your natural talents and abilities to use. Keep your own individual character and build upon it the character of Jesus Christ.” In those phrases are the essentials of the Jesuit’s training-nature preserved, but with Christ’s characteristics added. No one was, of course, permitted to develop a one-sided character. If a novice was melancholy, he was given the cheerful garden to work in. If he showed a proud streak, out he went where the fresh hash had been spilled on the floor, and on hands and knees he wiped it up. Was he a frivolous or fastidious soul? Then he dipped his hands in the kitchen sink and scrubbed unromantic dinner dishes. That was simply wise discipline.

But guiding all was the principle “Build upon your nature the character of Christ.” That was the work begun in the long retreat that followed so shortly after entrance. For thirty days we prayed, meditated, thought things over in almost unbroken silence, and listened to profound truths from our novice master. The first week we spent in the presence of the great realities oflife, life’s meaning, death, sin, judgment, heaven, hell, and we worked at the stiff problem of adjusting ourselves to these fundamental truths. Then for one week we studied Christ’s life, saw what the Son of God had deliberately chosen for Himself, and said, “What Christ chose for Himself is evidently the best thing for me.” Poverty became intelligible after one had looked at Bethlehem; Christ’s obedience of the thirty hidden years and His obedience unto death made clear the obedience one might some day vow; we read the beauty of purity in the eyes of the chaste Christ; and as we watched His life of labour, work for our fellowman took on a new meaning. Then for a week we watched the Passion of Christ, learned the terrifying power of sin and the strength Christ had won for those who would meet life bravely and in His company. During the last week we saw Christ risen from the dead and said: “This is the goal of life and death; I shall judge time from eternity, all earth in the light of my immortal soul and risen body.”

If there were any truth in the accusation that all Jesuits are cast in the same mould, it would lie in this, that they are taught to model themselves on Christ. And, it must be admitted, a world full of men who were all trying to live like Christ and be like Christ would be a delightful place to dwell in. Besides, men could all try to become very like Christ without fear of monotonous repetition or stale similarity. Christ the carpenter and Christ the teacher; Christ of the humble cottage, and Christ of the rich Pharisee’s table; Christ the guest at Bethany, and Christ driving the buyers and sellers from the temple; Christ with His disciples, and Christ with the high priests; Christ the kindly physician, and Christ the prophet of the world’s doom-imitation of Christ, while it produces a fundamental similarity of characters, certainly allows for a wide variety, as exemplified by those most perfect imitators of Christ, the saints.

IMPOSSIBLE IDEALS

I have read and heard that the Jesuit ideals are simply impossible, ridiculously misleading. A poor, credulous novice sees held up before him astonishing ideals. He makes a mad effort to reach them, finds with time that they cannot be realized, sees that no older Jesuit attains them, and sinks back into utter disillusionment. Ideals disappear; for as they cannot be attained, they are slowly, one by one, sometimes reluctantly, sometimes impetuously, renounced.

Not if the Jesuit has any sense. As a novice he has the ideals of Christ’s perfect life held up b efore him. Can he ever hope to attain them? Of course not to attain the ideals of Christ is to become Christ. Even the youngest Jesuit knows that he can only approximate those ideals. His life must be a constant striving after a perfection which he can never reach. Need the fact that he cannot attain the ideal discourage him? Of course not. Does it discourage a painter never to paint a picture that fully satisfies himself? Or a physician who, for all his scientific striving, finds that complete knowledge always escapes him? Assuredly not. Striving is hard; striving takes courage; and the man who would have been satisfied to be a third-rate physician or an indifferent artist may, all things being equal, be satisfied to be a mediocre Jesuit. But the fact that he has the ideals of Christ held up to him has nothing to do with his possible discouragement or laxity.

Every man knows that ideals are ideals simply because they cannot be attained. They are the heights we must aim to reach if we are to rise from the common plane. The measure of our ideals and our striving for those ideals is the measure of our rise above the common-place. And if a man is striving to reach the ideals of Christ, he has set himself to scale the highest peaks; his rise will be higher than that of any man with lesser ideals, but his courage must be stronger, and his ambitions more enduring.

Even if he sees that many an older Jesuit has failed to attain anything approaching the ideal, the younger man remembers that Christ, and not any man, is his inspiration. If he has common decency, he judges others kindly, remembering that Christ took long patient, discouraging years to form a few disciples into something approaching his own ideals. And if he is the right sort of Jesuit, he will be too busy with his own work and striving, to see the limitations of others, and too broad and tolerant to let essential human limitations blind him to the heroic lives and real generosity which are commonplaces all about him in the Society.

THE CLASSICS

Even the most casual of us novices knew before he had finished his two years of spiritual training, (the training in prayer, in self-control, in fundamental virtues), that a stiff intellectual training lay ahead. Indeed, we looked forward to it with the keenest anticipation. When our vows were taken, on a singularly happy morning, we passed into the beginning of a carefully planned course that led, not to letters behind our names nor academic degrees, (arbitrary distinctions which may mean real scholarship or may mean conceited pedantry), but toward broad training and thorough culture. For two years we absorbed classics, Latin, Greek, and English, with an enthusiasm that was simply astonishing. Men who had been great football players, for example, showed an almost vehement desire to excel in Latin poetry. We ran back from the baseball field or tennis court at the end of our Thursday holiday to snatch an extra ten minutes with Virgil or Sophocles or Shakespeare. We talked of the Catalinian conspiracy as if it were the latest front-page news; we got a positive thrill out of Demosthenes thundering against Philip. The presentation of “Antigone” in the original Greek, and The Two Captives” in authentic Latin, the weekly meetings of our voluntary Shakespeare Club, that presented sections of English drama with great earnestness and an Elizabethan disregard of costume and scenery, caused us more excitement than a first night on Broadway. We honestly grew to love the classics, and for two years we lived them as few students ever do.

SCIENCE

Then came three years of hard and exacting, (but to: me, who loved philosophy, absorbing), scientific training. Our group moved to St. Louis University, and with exclusive zeal buckled down to the rigours of philosophy and science. There may be finer trainings in clear reasoning and logical thinking than we got in those three years; if so, I’ve never heard of them. The stern logic of the Schoolmen, who hated slovenly thinking as they loved incisive debate, made with the exactness of the natural sciences a perfect combination and we felt ourselves developing a sort of instinct for right thinking, an extra sense that cut through to the precise falsity of a badly made argument.

VACATION THRILLS

The first summer after we began our philosophy course, we young men entrained with the Jesuit students of theology for the Wisconsin lakes, where our villa, primitive but comfortable, stood as the centre of a gracious island. There for six weeks we fished and swam and rowed, sang (with great gusto and considerable musical skill out on the lake as evening fell, and varied our athletic meets and baseball leagues with elaborately illuminated boat processions in honour of Our Lady, and with catechetical excursions among the children of the neighbouring villages.

Important as these summers of fresh air and exercise were for our young bodies, I have come with years to know that they meant far more for us than that. They cemented the comradeship between men who must work together through life. Out on the lakes, in the ecstasy of a pickerel strike, around the much-abused villa piano, where we sang popular songs or the world’s loveliest hymns, in the off-duty atmosphere of vacation life, we came to know one another as we never could in the class-room or lecture hail. You aver to play with a man to know him; so, during those summers together, in the comradely atmosphere of the villa, we shouted joyous songs, played fiercely contested games, applauded some impromptu vaudeville, and stored up unforgettable memories and firm, lasting friendships.

AT WORK

Twenty-eight years old, with the first half of my training as a Jesuit completed, I found myself assigned to my first active work as a member of the English department of St. Louis University.

It is a risky matter, perhaps, to speak of that period; for the five hundred and more students who passed through my classes during the following three years, and the five thousand and more whose activities I directed as faculty moderator are lawyers, doctors, priests, dentists and business men, in various parts of the country, quite competent, should they care to, to check up on what I write. But I feel safe in taking the risk, for, whatever my students may have thought of those years, to me they were the three most valuable, and in many ways the three happiest of my life. The theories I had learned in my study got backbone and vital reality from the contact with young, vigorous human life.

My classroom was, perhaps, not a very orderly place, but at least I never found it dull, and my scholars seldom showed bored countenances. With the students of the various apartments as co-workers, I ran a university newspaper, edited a year-book, produced plays and comic operas, ran orchestras and debating clubs, kept the student soldiers of the Student ArmyTraining Corps busy and entertained, was faculty member at the students’ council and staged our University Centennial Pageant. It was all-pleasant. The students could not possibly have enjoyed me as much as I enjoyed them during those three years without a dull day or an idle one.

And the splendid crowd of fellow Jesuits who gathered in the recreation room in the evening and ticked off the high spots or the funny moments of the day, capped, so to speak, the engrossing life with delightful and sympathetic companionship.

A PRIEST

Four hard, grilling years of theology followed, years of much class and difficult study, but made keenly expectant by the approaching day of ordination to the priesthood. It may seem strange to the uninitiated to realize the eagerness with which the young Jesuit looks forward to the morning, when he will bind himself forever as a priest to a life he hopes will be pleasing to God and useful to his fellowmen. I lived those years, as did my fellow-Jesuits, in the light of that approaching morning. And when the morning of ordination came, it brought with it happiness which simply passes the limitations of words.

I can remember so vividly the heaviness of the Archbishop’s hands on my head, the solemn presentation of the instruments of the Mass, the words that were so simple yet so venerable and significant. Then in quick succession I seem to see my newly consecrated hands blessing my mother and father, raising the Host in elevation, and making the cross of pardon above the sinner in the confessional. It was happiness so deep, that you must take my word for it. I have neither the power nor the inclination to try to tell what cannot be described.

Back for ten months to the prayer and humble work of the novitiate I went with my comrades for my final training as a Jesuit. Once more, in a long retreat of thirty days, we looked fundamentals and compared our own life to the life of Christ, which we had promised to imitate. And we set ourselves to the direct preparation of the work for souls, which as priests we hoped would be ours. The year ended, we wended our way to our various assignments as professors, pastors, writers or directors, knowing that a life full of opportunity lay ahead.

Now, three years later, I find myself with all that the Society can give me -solemn vows obliging me to be poor in spirit, pure of heart, and obedient in act, an engrossing work in life a sincere friendship for my fellow-Jesuits, a sympathetic consideration from my Superiors, a contented mind-as little, I like to believe, resembling the disgruntled Jesuit of the various exposés or the horrible Jesuits of the novels as I resemble a Uriah Heep or Simon Legree. Forgive me if I write too much about myself. Ultimately we know things through our own experience with them; and it is my own experience, not what anyone else has said or written, that has guided my hand as I write of the Society I have come to appreciate and love.

SHAPING ONESELF

One is not a Jesuit for very long before he finds that the Society, while it gives him an ample training and a broad education, regards what it gives him as a sort of minimum. Beyond that he is expected to develop himself. The selfexamination of the novitiate is supposed to give him a realisation of his possibilities. The years that follow give him ever increasing opportunities to test himself in a variety of things, in literature, science, the handling of men, preaching and the work of the ministry, writing, theology. In one of these or in two or three he will find his own aptitudes.

So the young Jesuit early notices how the men about him are beginning to show individual lines of development. They have marked gifts of some sort, and, with the approval of their Superiors, they begin to emphasize and train them. By the time the Society’s formal training has ended, the young men, who apparently all started from scratch, and were trained in much the same way, have actually run at various speeds, and eventually, so to speak, in different events.

This man has trained himself with conscious foresight to speak to cultured audiences in scholarly fashion; that man has turned by choice to work among the negroes. One of my best friends drives a motor-cycle at breakneck speed between mission posts in Central India; another took special work at Oxford in Latin and Greek; and a third specialized and got his doctorate in pedagogy. One of them is an amazing success with small boys; another is making a name for himself as a novelist, and another as a radio lecturer. And so they go, with varied talents and temperaments, finding, with the approval of the Society, varied lines of work.

BLIND OBEDIENCE

But there is that terrible matter of Jesuit obedience. “An,” says the Jesuit Superior of fiction, towering above his crushed and cringing subordinate, “remember, when I speak you must obey, no matter what I command. Though I should bid you throw yourself under a passing train, or poison an orphanage, you have no choice but to do my bidding. Now, I command you, be off about your deadly work.”

And the subordinate goes out to stick a knife into the heart of the King of France, or wheedle the rich widow out of her wealth.

As the Jesuit reads such stuff, he wonders why people take the trouble to write humorous novels. There’s the stuff of laughter, right enough.

Of course the Jesuit is schooled to obedience, “blind obedience,” if you wish the term, the sort that, for example, sent the Light Brigade rushing to die, even when they felt the command was a mistake. Every true soldier obeys in just that fine, quick, eager way, though for a far less noble reason than the Jesuit; and the Jesuit likes to remember that his founder was a soldier, Ignatius of Loyola, who turned his allegiance from the kings of earth to the King of Heaven, and demanded that his followers give their officers and their Captain, Christ, at least the prompt obedience he had been trained to give to his military chief.

But all this dagger-and-poison stuff is just so much more cheap melodrama. One would think that the Jesuit Constitutions were very difficult to get, a sort of mystic book, permitted only to the initiated. Anybody who cares to make the effort will find, throughout the section of the Constitution on obedience, the recurring phrase, “wherever there appears no sin.” If a Jesuit Superior, in a moment of madness, summoned me and told me to poison the mayor, or seduce the mythical wealthy widow, or rob a bank, or tell a trifling lie, I should be expected, by my rule, to refuse point-blank, and march out and report his order to a higher Superior.

For that matter, if the Superior commanded anything positively harmful, even if it were not sinful, I have recourse to a higher Superior, who will hear me with the same consideration and the same open mind that he gives to the one who issued the order.

COMMON SENSE

I have lived all these years as a Jesuit, taken plenty of orders (and given none; I have never exercised any authority in the Society), and in all that time I have never been ordered to do anything even remotely wrong, and never, for that matter, anything silly or stupid or harmful. And I have never met a Jesuit who has.

When a. young man first enters the Society, the hand of obedience may seem to rest heavily upon him. I rather fancy the young pleb at West Point does not find his first year of taking orders particularly easy.

But if the young Jesuit novice has the right stuff in him, he knows that, though he is free to leave if he does not want to obey, he chose and continues to lead this life of his own free will. Nobody obliged him to enter, and nobody is forcing him to stay. If obedience hopelessly galls him, he has only to pack his bag and take the first out-bound car. More than that, though, he remembers that the Society of Jesus is an organization approved by the Catholic Church, and with authority from it to command. Hence, when its Superiors speak an order, the words of Christ, “He that heareth you heareth me,” applies to them. So the young Jesuit makes his submission, not to any mere man, which would be policy or discretion, but to the representative of Christ, and that is supernatural obedience.

This matter of obedience demands, perhaps, just a word of explanation. The Catholic has always believed that Christ established a Church, and gave it the power to command, and to demand obedience to its commands. When Christ gave the Church the keys and the power of binding and loosing, He was simply making definite His own promise, “He that heareth you heareth me, and. he that despiseth you despiseth me.” The obedience of the Catholic in consequence is not obedience to a mere man, but to a man who speaks with the voice of Christ. If Christ cared to share His power with men, men have the right to use, and other men have the right to bow to this power.

A Religious Order like the Jesuits has the approval of the Church, and has been given by the Church the authority to issue commands to its members. In this way the Religious Order comes to share the authority given directly to the Church by Christ. For the Church formally approves the Constitutions of an order and its method of government, and bids it enlist members and guide them by its commands and its directions.

When, then, a man joins a Religious Order, he promises to obey, not because another man is placed over him, but because the man placed over him is exercising authority given to him by an organization which received its authority from the Church, which received its authority from Christ.

In order, further, to make his obedience to this representative of Christ absolute and unswerving, the Jesuit or the member of any other Religious Order takes a vow of obedience, binding himself to obey, and promising not to put his own personal whim before the rule of his Order or the command of his Superior. He may not like nor admire his Superior, he may not think him wise; yet he obeys, not because his Superior has been placed over him, but because he recognizes that that Superior has a power derived from Christ Himself. This is religious obedience.

If you do not believe that a man can give commands as the representative of God, you would be a perfect fool to join the Jesuits. If you do so believe, you would be a fool to resent orders given to you by one who, as the Jesuit founder said: “is in the place of Christ and has received authority from Him.” This changes the whole aspect of obedience, and makes it a glorious submission to God’s representatives.

ARMY OR MOB?

Besides, any man knows that an organization, a unified forward movement, or any successful fighting does not just happen as a sort of happy accident. It results from carefully directed, ordered plans. Men unite themselves to other men, put themselves under leaders and say: “Use us as the good of the organization demands.” In a forward movement the rank and file cry, “Point out the way for us to go, and we will obey.” The trained soldier asks simply: “When, where, and how do you want me to fight?”

The precise difference between a mob and an army, between a successful business corporation and a bankrupt one, between a movement that advances and one that falters, and is dispersed in hopeless little dusters, is measured in loyalty and obedience. And the Society of Jesus asks and expects of its members just such soldierly obedience, such loyal, devoted service.

We can fancy our army in France as made up of a lot Of hotheaded youths, who went over the top when they pleased and went back to the relief billets when the whim moved them. We can picture the Standard Oil Company as made up of energetic young business men, who buy the grade of oil they like at the price they like, determine their own advertising campaign for each oil station, and decide on selling price and methods as the mood of the moment directs them, while they take up chewing gum and grand pianos as side lines. And without much trouble we can fancy what would happen to either of those two groups if this were the case. One joins an organization precisely because he feels he will work better under competent direction and in co-ordination and cooperation with others. A guerrilla or a genius may work better alone, but many of us feel the strength and the need of group action. So, once a man has joined a group, the plainest common-sense tells him either to obey or get out, to move with the group he has joined or go off by himself. To stay in the group and demand that he be allowed to do as he pleases, to be the only one out of step-well, one need not discuss ridiculous suppositions like that. Obedience is not, you see, only a supernatural virtue; it is a matter of common horse sense too.

Hard as it may seem at first, obedience grows less and less heavy with time. I soon discovered that most of the orders given me were pretty right and reasonable. Superiors did not go around issuing orders like some recently commissioned second lieutenant. Orders were really surprisingly rare and surprisingly sane, and they were much more frequently couched in a “Would you be good enough?” or “I should like to have you” than in a “Do this” or “Don’t do that.”

I found, too, that, with each year of my life as a Jesuit, orders grew less and less frequent. A man was put more on his own responsibility. He was quite as likely to go to his Superior and say, “I was thinking of doing this and that,” as to have his Superior come to him with, “I want you to do this and that.”

I honestly believe that, aside from the essentials of the fundamental rule, which one accepts open-mindedly after perfectly understanding what he is doing, the average Jesuit has far less of the rub and grind of obedience than the average employee of a big corporation or any officer in any army in the world. Theoretically very stiff and exacting, Jesuit obedience is in practice considerate, quick to make allowance, and positively gentle. You find men rather spontaneous in their obedience; you find Superiors reluctant to impose difficult commands.

And over all the obedience of a Jesuit is the remembrance of the Christ he is bound to imitate, the Christ so obedient during His life with Mary and Joseph, so willing to be “obedient even unto death.” Nor does he forget, nor does he fail to experience the fact that the bondage of Christ is perfect freedom.

RULES

The life of a Jesuit is hemmed round by his rules, none of which, however, except those dealing with his vows or with fundamental right and wrong, binds under sin. They are guide-posts rather than commands; directions for a safer and more rapid approach to Christ rather than stern orders. What critics of the Society never care to remember is the fact that the voice of the Superior is the living rule, making exceptions and exemptions where he thinks proper, and where the need of individuals or conditions demand them.

Of course the Jesuit’s vows are hard. A man becomes a Jesuit just because vows are hard. He wants to do something out of the ordinary for Christ. Every priest binds himself to be pure, in imitation of the pure Christ, and the world accepts this as a commonplace. The Jesuit vows to be poor, as Christ was poor; but St. Francis of Assisi has accustomed everyone to realize that detachment from wealth is as beautiful as it is courageous. The vows are hard, but no man who really understands them thinks them impossible.

The word “wealth” makes me pause for a moment. It recalls all the legends of Jesuit wealth that have been current since the first days of the Society. Just recently the newspapers featured the story of a group of explorers going out to search for buried Jesuit wealth in Paraguay. I wish them luck as I would wish Ponce de Leon luck if he told me he was going to look for the Fountain of Youth. My wishes would be equally effective in either case.

Jesuit Wealth.

Jesuit wealth? Well, I have lived in Jesuit Houses from New York to San Francisco, and I have found no traces of it. I spent the first seven years of my life in the Society without a penny in my pocket. When I wanted to go anywhere, I walked or, infrequently, got the exact streetcar fare from my Superior. I have just made a trip that cost a business friend nine hundred dollars when he made it. I was expected to pay my own way by the lectures I gave en route. I have, if it interests you, as it probably does not, two suits of clothes, one for summer and one for winter. While I do not precisely have to go to bed when one of them is being pressed, I do have to manage rather carefully that necessary repairs are made on days when I am at home, wearing a mercifully concealing cassock over an ancient pair of trousers.

Jesuits, it is perfectly true, have beautiful churches, which are of service only to the people who worship in them. They have large colleges and universities-usually with proportionately large debts. But these educational plants are for the training of students of moderate circumstances, and can be operated only because Jesuit professors serve entirely without salary.

I do not know, by the way, of any college or university in the country to day that is regarded as a profitable investment. If, by means of generous endowment, it keeps out of the red ink in its balance sheet, everyone thinks it is doing remarkably well. Jesuit universities are almost entirely without endowment, except the endowment of men, and the astonishing part of it is that economy and human generosity, and the splendid loyalty of professors, lay and Jesuit, keep them from bankruptcy.

Wealth? This is one legend connected with Jesuits that I wish were even partially true. Jesuit ledgers are not inaccessible to the student. They would make for the honest-minded a marvellous study of how magnificent churches and huge educational plants are built and operated with sacrifice and generosity and a minimum income.

INTRIGUES

Of course closely connected with the legends of vast wealth are the legends of Jesuit intrigue. You remember, no doubt, Thackeray’s famous Jesuit in “ Henry Esmond,” Father Holt or Holz. He bobbed up in a dozen different places in a dozen different disguises, always just about to push somebody off or somebody on to a throne.

I remember, when President Harding died of over-work and crabs, eaten out of season, some solemn ministerial soul announced from the pulpit that the President had been slain by the Jesuits with mental poisoning. The course in mental poisoning was for some reason omitted from my training, so I cannot give you any details of the method employed.

The association of the Jesuit with politics arose in the mind of the Protestant historian from the fact that the Society was founded in the days of the Reformation, when religion and politics were hopelessly entangled, and each religious political group warred on all others. If Mary was Queen of England, the Catholics walked the streets, and Protestants languished in prison; if Elizabeth came to the throne, the bonfires were lighted for the papists. If the Catholic party was the stronger in France, everything was sunny for the Church; if the Huguenots gained the power, the Catholic sought out dark alleys and kept his weather eye open for waiting swords. If German Princes were pushing the fight, Protestantism swept forward; if the Emperor had a good day on the field, Catholics regained a little more confidence. Mary Stuart was slain because she was the candidate of the Catholic party for the throne of England; Coligny because he was the chief defender of the Calvinists. And so it went. Religion was so connected with politics, that everyone felt that the rise or fall of a King or Prince meant the rise or fall of the new religion or the old in the country he happened to rule.

Naturally, the Pope used the newly established Jesuits as his ambassadors. He sent them to strengthen Kings in their loyalty, to re-establish the wavering faith of countries, and to convert, if they could, lapsing Princes. And naturally the Jesuits felt that the triumph of any Catholic Prince or party was a triumph for the Church, as the triumph of a Protestant Prince must be a terrible catastrophe to Catholicity. When the Prince spoke in those days, the people jumped; and if he spoke Protestantly the people hopped obediently to the churches of the new creed.

We need hardly think it strange, then that the Jesuits were so mightily concerned about politics when everyone in the world was concerned with just who would be the next King or the next party to rule the Empire. We think it quite natural for the dissenting Ministers of Colonial America to look on Washington and the Revolutionists as great patriots, while many of the established Ministers, who felt that revolt against England meant revolt against the mother English Church, regarded them as traitors to their country and their faith. Nobody thinks it surprising that, since Methodism in America regards as vital the triumph of Prohibition, it throws its strength to any candidate or any party that promises to enforce the Eighteenth Amendment, and fights with all its power any man or group whose platform is slightly damp.

And if to-day either political party were to espouse a law abolishing freedom of religion (precisely the issue at stake in Reformation days), the Jesuits would be interested, heart and soul, as every good citizen would be interested, in seeing that that party was thoroughly and soundly whipped.

So the history of the case is simply this, that, when politics and religion were hand in hand, the Jesuits could not be interested in one without being vitally interested in the other. Calvin and John Knox and Martin Luther set the excellent example of playing politics for the triumph of their new faiths; the Jesuits would have been dilatory had they not learned the lesson and played politics for the old. The objection has not really been that they played politics; the objection has been that they played politics for the triumph of the Catholic and not of the Protestant group.

This is, of course, a very different thing from saying that Jesuits went around feeding poison to Kings, knocking little Princes over the head, and plotting the massacre of unsuspecting Protestants. All this sort of thing had no existence, except in the pages of men who hate the Church even more than they hate the Society, and who paint every Pope as a man whose wine is very dangerous stuff for non-Catholic stomachs.

In all the years I’ve lived in the Society, I have voted when and for whom I wished. No one ever suggested anything else. I have walked to the polls and voted a Republican ticket with a fellow-Jesuit who voted Democratic. Once, in a State election, I voted for a dry candidate, while my best friend voted for a wet. Even local politics is a rarely discussed object in our recreation rooms, and I have never met a Superior, from the Rector of a church to the Provincial of a whole district, who had a real interest in politics. And I never knew one who made the least effort to influence a public officer or sway his community or his Catholic friends in a political question. Anyone in America who is afraid of the Jesuit in politics is probably afraid of ghosts in the village graveyard, and thinks that Catholic churches store a stand of rifles in their basements for each child baptized.

IN DISGUISE

But didn’t Jesuits go about in disguise? Well, if there was a price on your head, if you were being hunted like a mad wolf, if English pursuivants or Japanese soldiers or Cromwellian spies were hot on your trail, if you were a priest for whom it was a capital offence to say Mass, you would probably not go around with signs written all over you announcing your identity to the world. You and I, under conditions like that, might adopt the disguise that would make it possible for us to live a little longer and work a trifle more before we fed ourselves to the bonfire, or handed ourselves over to the public executioner.

I have personally known one Jesuit, just one, who used a disguise. He was sent to Russia with the Papal relief at a time when a priest was shoton sight. He went to bring food to the starving Russians, and wore khaki and “puts,” because in disguise he could continue his work of mercy. Thus far I have worn my Roman collar for the world to see, and have announced with occasional pride to chance acquaintances in trains that I am one of these mysterious Jesuits. None of them to date has fainted in terror.

WHY I FAIL

No one knows better than I how far I am from exhibiting in myself the ideal of the Jesuit life. I should not feel quite ready, let mehonestly confess, to meet my father, St. Ignatius, much less my leader, Christ. Don’t worry though; this is not to be a paragraph of public confession. Even I have my reticences. I just want to say that if I have fallen, and fall short of what a Jesuit ought to be, there is only one person to blame, myself. I am not going about shouting blame at others, explaining how impossible the Jesuit ideal is, how cruel the rule, how brutal the system. I am not pleading my gullible ignorance nor deception practiced on me by sly decoyers of unsuspecting youth. If I have approached but little the beautiful ideal held up to me as a Jesuit, that is because I have been selfish, spiritually cowardly, tolerably lazy-in other words, just a little too human in the weak and miserable sense of the word.

I have, I hope, better sense and more common decency than to pretend that the Society has not given me every opportunity of becoming more Christ like. If there were some of its rules that at first seemed strange to me, time has proved their wisdom. Each year, in order to bring back something of the novitiate ideal, I have been required to set aside eight days in which quietly to look once more at the fundamental of life, prayerfully watch Christ move and act, and humbly try to adjust myself to the requirements of my career. No one but myself was to blame if I came out from those retreats still the selfish spiritual coward.

Certainly I have had all about me the example of upright, generous lives, and, did I care to look for them, I could discover fineness and unselfishness in the most ordinary Jesuit in my community. I have listened to holy men talk and watched holy men live. The Society set aside for me what it considered its most brilliant professors and its most saintly priests, whose sole work was my training and culture. I have had the use of libraries, free and ready access to Christ in the chapel, never more than a few steps away, the fatherly interest of wise old men, and the guidance and watchfulness of Superiors. And when I fell short, there was nothing for me to do except strike my breast and say: “I alone am guilty.”

No organisation is to be blamed when, after the opportunities, inspiration and guidance which it gives, to the full of its power, some of its members prove to be just common clay. The organization does not create courage or unselfishness; it can only hope to develop. And the Society can hardly hope to make a proud man fall in love with the humble Christ, or expect a stubborn, self-willed man to see anything beautiful in voluntary obedience, or a self-sufficient man to accept the guidance of a Superior who is probably his intellectual inferior. The Society deals in men, not in miracles.

OLD JESUITS

But always before me there has been one inspiring group, the group of old Jesuits. They will probably be surprised to read this, if, in their quiet absorption with life’s realities, they take the time to read it. The fact remains that for me the old Jesuits have always been the greatest proof of the value of the Society of Jesus to a man who lives his life in it to the end. For life can be measured only when one has lived it fully. Young men may be restless and impatient, critical and clinging to standards all their own; old men see life with true eyes and appraise it by eternal standards. No man facing death lies to himself. No man looking toward eternity has any illusions about what was valuable and what was useless or wasteful in his life. And for just that reason the old Jesuits have made the Jesuit life seem to me so precious a thing.

That group of venerable men whose fight is largely over and won, whose year is drawing toward the quiet of winter! There were the crippled, rheumatic Indian missionary who lay dying when I was a novice; the peaceful, old former master of novices, with his unbroken, motionless hours on his knees before the Blessed Sacrament; the dear old author, who, as he looked back over his years, said to me in almost an awed whisper, “How beautiful it has all been I” the paralytic priest waiting motionless for death, but smiling from the midst of a happy helplessness; the old professor who once said simply, “God has given me so much happiness in this world that sometimes I am afraid I have had my heaven here;” the bent crippled confessor hurrying from his room to his confessional, eager to shrive a few more souls before Christ asked him for his own. I have never seen an old Jesuit, worn and tired, and, perhaps, broken by the rough usage of life, who did not look up at my questioning face and say: “Life has been very good.” And when I went on, “Had you your life to live again, would you choose as you did?” one and all they answered, “Just as I chose; but I would live it so much more perfectly.” How many men in how many professions would answer that way?

ADVICE TO A YOUNG MAN

So, were a young man to come to me with doubt in his eyes, as young men have come, and ask me about his joining, the Jesuits, I would ask him, not all at once, but in the course of leisurely conversation, questions like these:

“Have you the courage to obey a man whom you may know to be your intellectual or spiritual inferior? Can you, with the help of God, keep yourself pure? Are you willing to work, work, work, even when you don’t like what you are doing? Can you follow Christ and not grow discouraged? Can you forgive men for being human, and Superiors for not being divine? Can you sometimes laugh at yourself, and never at others? Can you, when you have bound yourself by rules, be square enough not to wince or complain if the rulesgall a bit?”

And if he answers unhesitatingly “Yes,” or if he replies with a brave “I can try,” I should tell him of the business man, successful, happily married, a figure in his community, who said to me, “I suppose every man hates his work, doesn’t he?” And I should tell him that I answered, “Hate it? Why, I love mine.” And I’d bid him take up the life with high courage and the knowledge that his future rests only with two people. Christ and himself. He cannot make himself a successful Jesuit unless he lends a brave, tireless hand.

Then, out of my happy experience, I should promise him happiness. The Jesuit is rather proud of his name, though it has so often on anti-Christian lips a tone of contempt. Jesuit to us means Jesu-ita; and Jesuita means “Like to Jesus.” If, then, he is misunderstood by the same men who misunderstood Jesus, he counts that a compliment. If his life seems absurd and his obedience silly to men who praise Jesus, but refuse or politely decline to lead His life or follow His example, he reckons that an honour. If he ever became popular with the enemies of the Church or the type of man who accused Christ of every sort of crime, he would feel that perhaps Christ no longer approved him and his work. For Jesus certainly was neither popular nor understood nor spared slander and calumny, nor, in the ordinary sense, was He a success. The Jesuit does not expect to be better off than his Master.

MEET A JESUIT

And just one last word. If you have never met a Jesuit, meet one. There are Jesuit Houses in almost all the large cities, usually near the centre of the town. Someone will answer when you ring; probably a matter-of-fact, un-romantic, certainly not a frightening, workman. Ask to see a Jesuit Father. If into the little parlour where you wait walks anyone remotely resembling the Jesuit of fiction or of the exposés, come away and tear up this booklet. If you find a man kind and tolerant, a little quiet perhaps, but with a sense of humour, one who has learned the almost forgotten art of listening, if he answers your questions unhesitatingly and makes you feel you are not in the least impertinent, for the very simple reason that he has nothing to conceal, pass this little booklet along.

The best way to know Jesuits is literally to know them. The best way to meet the accusations of their adversaries is to meet the men themselves. Don’t stop with books; go to their Houses, their churches, their colleges. Fiction grows simply absurd in the presence of simple facts and quite simple lives.

So, with only a few miles of my journey still before me, I, the happy Jesuit, one of the happy thousands of Jesuits, lay aside for the moment my emptied pen and reach with a sigh for the neglected detective story. I take my fiction; you see, straight.

Nihil Obstat: Joannes Keane, S.J.

Censor Theol. Deput.

Imprimi Potest:@ Eduardus,

Archiep. Dublinen., Hiberniae Primas. 10/12/1928

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They Are For The World

ST. JOHN MARY VIANNEY

INDEX

One section, and perhaps it is the largest section, of people everywhere are wholly wrapped up in the things of this world. And of this large number there are those who are content to have suppressed all feeling of religion, all thought of another life, who have done everything in their power to efface the terrible thought of the judgment which one day they will have to undergo. They employ all their wiles, and often their wealth, during the course of their lives to attract to their way of life as many people as they can. They no longer believe in anything. They even take a pride in making themselves out to be more impious and incredulous than they really are in order to convince others and to make them believe, not in the verities, but in the falsehoods which they wish to take root in the hearts of those under their influence.

Voltaire, in the course of a dinner given one day for his friends -that is, for the impious-rejoiced that of all those present, there was not one who believed in religion. And yet he himself did believe, as he was to show at the hour of his death.

Then he demanded with great earnestness that a priest should be brought to him that he might make his peace with God.

But it was too late. God, against whom he had fought and spoken with such fury all his life, dealt with him as He had with Antiochus: He abandoned him to the fury of the devils. At that dread moment, Voltaire had only despair and the thought of eternal damnation as his lot. The Holy Ghost tells us: “The fool hath said in his heart: There is no God.” But it is only the corruption of his heart which could carry man to such an excess; he does not believe it in the depths of his soul. The words “There is a God” will never entirely disappear. The greatest sinner will often utter them without even thinking of what he is saying. But let us leave these blasphemous people aside. Happily, though you may not be as good Christians as you ought to be, thanks be to God you are not of that company. But, you will say to me, who are these people who are partly on God’s side and partly on the side of the world? Well, my dear children, let me describe them. I will compare them (if I may dare to make use of the term) to dogs who will run to the first person who calls them. You may follow them from the morning to the evening, from the beginning of the year to the end. These people look upon Sunday as merely a day for rest and amusement. They stay in bed longer than on weekdays, and instead of giving themselves to God with all their hearts, they do not even think of Him. Some of them will be thinking of their amusements, others of people they expect to meet, still others of the sales they are about to make or the money they will be spending or receiving. With great difficulty they will manage the Sign of the Cross in some fashion or another. Because they will be going to church later, they will omit their prayers altogether, saying: “Oh, I’ll have plenty of time to say them before Mass.” They always have something to do before setting out for Mass, and although they have been planning to say their prayers before setting out, they are barely in time for the beginning of the Mass itself. If they meet a friend along the road, it is no trouble to them to bring him back home and put off the Mass until a later hour. But since they still want to appear Christian, they will go to Mass sometime later, though it will be with infinite boredom and reluctance. The thought in their minds will be: “Oh, Lord, will this ever be over!” You will see them in church, especially during the instruction, looking around from one side to the other, asking the person next to them for the time, and so on.

More of them yawn and stretch and turn the pages of their prayer book as if they were examining it in order to see whether the printer had made any mistakes. There are others, and you can see them sleeping as soundly as if they were in a comfortable bed. The first thought that comes to them when they awake is not that they have been profaning so holy a place but: “Oh, Lord, this will never be over. . . . I’m not coming back any more.” And finally there are those to whom the word of God (which has converted so many sinners) is actually nauseating. They are obliged to go out, they say, to get a breath of air or else they would die. You will see them, distressed and miserable, during the services. But no sooner is the service over (and often even before the priest has actually left the altar) than they will be pressing around the door from which the first of the congregation are streaming out, and you will notice that all the joy which they had lost during the service has come back again. They are so tired that often they have not the “strength” to come back to the evening service. If you were to ask them why they were not coming to this, they would tell you: “Ah, we would have to be all the day in the church. We have other things to do.”

For such people there is no question of instruction, nor of the Rosary, nor of evening prayers. They look upon all these things as of no consequence. If you asked them what had been said during the instruction, they would say: “He did too much shouting. . . . He bored us to death. . . . I can’t remember anything else about it. . . . If it hadn’t been so long, it might have been easier to remember some of it. . . . That is just what keeps the world away from religious services- they are too long.”

It is quite right to say “the world” because these people belong to the camp of “the worldly,” although they do not know it. But now we shall try to make them understand things a little better (at least if they want to). But, being deaf and blind (as they are), it is very difficult to make them understand the words of life or to comprehend their own unhappy fate.

To begin with, they never make the Sign of the Cross before a meal or say Grace afterwards, nor do they recite the Angelus. If, as a result of some old habit or training, they still observe these practices and you should happen to see the manner in which they carry them out, you would feel sick: the women will simultaneously be getting on with their work or calling to their children or members of the household; the men will be turning a hat or a cap around in their hands as if searching for holes. They think as much about God as if they really believed that He did not exist at all and that they were doing all this for a joke. They have no scruples about buying or selling on the holy day of Sunday, even though they know, or at least they should know, that dealing on a reasonably big scale on a Sunday, when there is no necessity for it, is a mortal sin. Such people regard all such facts as trifles. They will go into a parish on a holy day to hire labourers, and if you told them they were doing wrong, they would reply: “We must go when we can find them there.” They have no problem, either, about paying their taxes on a Sunday because during the week they might have to go a little further and take a few moments longer to complete the job. “Ah,” you will say to me, “we wouldn’t think much of all that.” You would not think much of all that, my dear people, and I am not at all surprised, because you are worldly. You would like to be followers of God and at the same time to satisfy the standards of the world. Do you realise, my children, who these people are? They are the people who have not entirely lost the faith and to whom there still remains some attachment to the service of God, the people who do not want to give up all religious practices, for indeed, they themselves find fault with those who do not go often to the services, but they have not enough courage to break with the world and to turn to God’s side. They do not wish to be damned, but neither do they wish to inconvenience themselves too much. They hope that they will be saved without having to do too much violence to themselves. They have the idea that God, being so good, did not create them for perdition and that He will pardon them in spite of everything; that the time will come when they will turn over to God; that they will correct their faults and abandon all their bad habits. If, in moments of reflection, they pass their petty lives before their eyes, they will lament for their faults, and sometimes they will even weep for them. . . .

What a very tragic life such people lead, my children, who want to follow the ways of the world without ceasing to be the children of God. Let us go on a little further and you will be able to understand this a little more clearly and to see for yourselves how stupid indeed such a life can be. At one moment you will hear the people who lead it praying or making an act of contrition, and the next moment you will hear them, if something is not going the way they want it, swearing or maybe even using the holy name of God. This morning you may have seen them at Mass, singing or listening to the praises of God, and on the very same day you will hear them giving vent to the most scandalous utterances. They will dip their hands in holy water and ask God to purify them from their sins; a little later they will be using those very hands in an impure way upon themselves or upon others. The same eyes which this morning had the great happiness of contemplating Jesus Christ in the Blessed Sacrament will in the course of the day voluntarily rest with pleasure upon the most immodest objects.

Yesterday you saw a certain man doing an act of charity or a service for a neighbour; today he will be doing his best to cheat that neighbour if he can profit thereby. A moment ago this mother desired all sorts of blessings for her children, and now, because they are annoying her, she will shower all sorts of curses upon them: she wishes she might never see them again, that she was miles away from them, and ends up by consigning them to the Devil to rid herself of them! At one moment she sends her children to Mass or Confession; at another, she will be sending them to the dance or, at least, she will pretend not to know that they are there or forbid them to go with a laugh which is tantamount to permission to go. At one time she will be telling her daughter to be reserved and not to mix with bad companions, and at another she will allow her to pass whole hours with young men without saying a word. It’s no use, my poor mother, you are on the side of the world! You think yourself to be on God’s side by reason of some exterior show of religion which you make.

You are mistaken; you belong to that number of whom Jesus Christ has said: “Woe to the world. . . .”

You see these people who think they are following God but who are really living up to the maxims of the world. They have no scruples about taking from their neighbour wood or fruit or a thousand and one other things. Whenever they are flattered for what they do for religion, they derive quite a lot of pleasure from their actions. They will be quite keen then and will be delighted to give good advice to others. But let them be subjected to any contempt or calumny and you will see them become discouraged and distressed because they have been treated in this way. Yesterday they wanted only to do good to anyone who did them harm, but today they can hardly tolerate such people, and often they cannot even endure to see them or to speak to them.

Poor worldlings! How unhappy you are! Go on with your daily round; you have nothing to hope for but Hell! Some would like to go to the Sacraments at least once a year, but for that, it is necessary to find an easygoing confessor. They would like. . . . if only-and there is the whole problem. If they find a confessor who sees that their dispositions are not good and he refuses them Absolution, you will then find them thundering against him, justifying themselves for all they are worth for having tried and failed to obtain the Sacrament. They will speak evil about him. They know very well why they have been refused and left in their sinful state, but, as they know, too, the confessor can do nothing to grant them what they want, so they get satisfaction by saying anything they wish.

Carry on, children of this world, carry on with your daily round; you will see a day you never wished to see! It would seem then that we must divide our hearts in two! But no, my friends, that is not the case; all for God or all for the world.

You would like to frequent the Sacraments? Very well, then, give up the dances and the cabarets and the unseemly amusements. Today you have sufficient grace to come here and present yourselves at the tribunal of Penance, to kneel before the Holy Table, to partake of the Bread of the Angels. In three or four weeks, maybe less, you will be seen passing your night among drunken men, and what is more, you will be seen indulging in the most horrible acts of impurity. Carry on, children of this world; you will soon be in Hell! They will teach you there what you should have done to get to Heaven, which you have lost entirely through your own fault. . . .

Woe betide you, children of this world! Carry on; follow your master as you have done up to the present! Very soon you will see clearly that you have been mistaken in following his ways. But will that make you any wiser? No, my children, it will not. If someone cheats us once, we say: “We will not trust him any more-and with good reason.” The world cheats us continually and yet we love it.” Love not the world, nor the things which are in the world,” St. John warns us. Ah, my dear children, if we gave some thought to what the world really is, we should pass all our lives in bidding it farewell. When one reaches the age of fifteen years, one has said farewell to the pastimes of childhood; one has come to look upon them as trifling and ephemeral, as one would the actions of children building houses of cards or sand castles. At thirty, one has begun to put behind one the consuming pleasures of passionate youth. What gave such intense pleasure in younger days is already beginning to weary. Let us go further, my dear children, and say that every day we are bidding farewell to the world.

We are like travellers who enjoy the beauty of the countryside through which they are passing. No sooner do they see it than it is time for them to leave it behind. It is exactly the same with the pleasures and the good things to which we become so attached. Then we arrive at the edge of eternity, which engulfs all these things in its abyss.

It is then, my dear brethren, that the world will disappear forever from our eyes and that we shall recognise our folly in having been so attached to it. And all that has been said to us about sin!. . . . Then we shall say: It was all true.

Alas, I lived only for the world, I sought nothing but the world in all I did, and now the pleasures and the joys of the world are not for me any longer! They are all slipping away from me-this world which I have loved so well, these joys, these pleasures which have so fully occupied my heart and my soul!. . . . Now I must return to my God!. . . . How consoling this thought is, my dear children, for him who has sought only God throughout his life! But what a despairing thought for him who has lost sight of God and of the salvation of his soul!

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They Crucified Him

BY REV. ROBERT NASH, S.J

INDEX

The three words on our title page are St. Luke’s terse summary of the events of Our Lord’s Sacred Passion. Who “they” were, and what “crucifying” implied, and what manner of Man they outraged in crucifying “Him,”- these ideas are capable of wide expansion, they have formed the subject-matter of innumerable meditations, and they are most aptly illustrated in the fourteen scenes known familiarly to us as “the stations.” Catholics, thank God, nourish their love of Our Lord and deepen their hatred of sin, by frequently “making” those stations, so it may prove helpful in these pages to set forth thoughts which are easily suggested to the mind, and affections which readily arise in the heart, as one follows Christ and Mary through these events taking place on the way to Calvary.

I

We find ourselves at the outset, in a quiet corner of Pilate’s hall, looking on the Prisoner Who is standing before His judge.

In the street below a brutal mob is howling, and the cry, quivering from excess of hatred, sends up its echo : “Away with Him! He is guilty of death! Crucify Him! “Presently the Governor arises from his seat, dips his hands in a basin of water and holds them dripping over the edge of the balcony. “No,” he declares, “this Man is not guilty of death. He is innocent and I wash my hands to show you that I am not taking responsibility for His condemnation. But, though He is innocent, I sentence Him to be crucified.”

We might draw many a helpful consideration from this first station, but it will probably be most useful to concentrate on one at a time. So as we watch Pilate and the infuriated Jews we see very dearly indeed how foolish is that man who allows himself to be swayed unduly by desire for his fellowman’s praise and approval. For Pilate’s inconsistency is equalled only by his cruelty. In one breath he affirms Christ’s innocence, and in the next he condemns Him! And as for the multitudes, it is barely five days since they gathered around Jesus on the occasion of His triumphant journey into Jerusalem, once more shouting themselves hoarse, but in jubilation this time as they acclaim this same Man their King. Look at them now and see how swiftly the popularist aura has changed. These are the people whose sick He has cured, whose dead He has raised to life again. These are the same who followed Him into desert places and whom He fed by working a miracle. They had brought their children to Him to bless. Is it too much to suppose that to-day they lift up those same little ones high in their arms and teach them to yell curses at Him as at a hypocrite and a criminal?

Whatever be their charge and even if it were a just one, the Truth cannot but force itself upon us that he who leans much on mere human friendship and permits his conduct to be guided by the fickle opinions of men is building upon shifting sands. Of course there is nothing more removed from our minds than censure of the beautiful and lasting friendships which abound. But unless friendship and affection be the overflow of the love of Christ in the soul, it will soon degenerate into mere expediency. A friend of this sort smiles upon you and is lavish with attentions as long as he has anything to gain from you, or thinks he has. But seek him out when sorrow presses upon you and he is not at home, or he is plainly bored and uninterested, and when next you meet him in the street he looks the other way or crosses to the other side. Jesus, enduring this fickleness of men, would have me learn that there is one abiding friendship and only one, which stands unshaken in the midst of men’s insincerity the friendship existing between God and the soul, and the friendship which loves others for His sake.

There is another form of subservience to men’s opinions and it is called human respect. Men will drink freely and use loose language or intersperse their conversation with foul oaths-and why? They will be ashamed to silence indecent talk, they will smile or laugh at a tale that nauseates-and why? They will fawn on those who have power, and compromise their consciences to win their approval. They will make careful study of the art of timeserving-why? Look back ten or fifteen years and see how utterly unimportant it is now what men thought of you or said about you then, when you were ridiculed or laughed at, or on the other hand, when you were lauded to the skies. Whether they praise or blame, whether they regard you as a wise man or a fool, you are what God sees you to be. Just that, and no more or no less. What fools we are to be so easily swayed, and to lose opportunities of growing in God’s love or combating His enemies because we fear what others will think or say about us! “To me,” writes St. Paul, “it is a very small thing to be judged by you. . . . He that judgeth me is the Lord.”

Jesus in this first station teaches me to ignore, as being unworthy of a moment’s consideration, what men will think of me, and to seek to win for my words and actions the approval of Him Whose judgment of me, because unerring, is the only one worth having.

II

So He is accounted guilty of death, and accordingly Jesus, in the second station, proceeds to carry His cross. This time we draw very close to Him and, as the excited crowds continue to yell that He is guilty of death, we may well ask to which of the two of us do those accusing fingers point. They cannot justly indicate our Saviour, for even the corrupt Pilate has pronounced Him innocent. But it is indeed true that every man who commits mortal sin is guilty of death. Before that fatal day and hour his soul was pulsating with the very life of God Himself, for to be in the state of grace is to participate in the divine nature. But as the sinner consummates his foul deed his hands are red with the blood of murder. He has stifled and strangled and slain the life of his own soul. He is branded in God’s sight as a murderer, like another Cain. And like Cain too, often he is not satisfied with destroying the life of his own soul but must needs inject the virus into the souls of others. “Woe to the scandal-giver,” says Our Lord. Woe to him or to her who teaches others how to sin, who tempts them to wickedness, who laughs airily at their just scruples. Such a one is.indeed guilty of death. The lying mob surrounding Our Lord gives place to the souls ruined and slain by such a scandal-giver and these proclaim in all truth, as they look upon him and point him out : “He has incurred sentence of death, for he is a murderer. He has murdered our souls!”

Fearful responsibility! Perhaps to set a young man on the road to moral collapse! To blight a fair young life by evil example ; to stir up in another the flames of passion which may take years to extinguish and control again, if indeed the task ever be accomplished at all! “Father,” .said an old woman, “I’m eighty-two and will you tell everyone you can what I’m going to say to you ? I was a sinner, and the memory of my sins haunts me night and day. I sit in this bed at two and three in the morning and ask myself how am I going to answer to God for the souls I have led into the ways of sin. If only young people would learn from me what misery there is in sin!”

We are still standing side by side, Jesus and I. He willingly takes the cross though He is innocence itself. Must I not corroborate the accusation hurled against me, that it is I who am guilty of death? And if so, what could be more just or fitting than that I relieve the innocent Man of His load, and accept the cross willingly for my own portion?

III

Tradition says that Our blessed Lord fell several times on the road. In the next station we make reverent commemoration of the first of these falls. It is greeted with shrieks of fiendish delight. Our divine Lord is prodded with a lance and rudely kicked as He lies fiat on the ground. And, while we are waiting for this poor exhausted Man to force Himself to rise again, we let our minds go back to our own first serious fall, back to the day of the sinner’s first mortal sin.

All sin is a species of idolatry, a falling down before impurity or drunkenness or injustice or hatred, and willfully to pay to them the homage due to God alone. Sin is thus the free choice of a soul, and if the soul passes out of this world in that state all God does is to confirm it in the choice it has freely made. It is the soul itself therefore that condemns itself to eternity in hell, for so great an evil is mortal sin that only in hell can it find the environment proper to it. If, to make an impossible supposition, such a soul were to be admitted to heaven and into the sight of the infinitely holy God, it would endure a more fearful hell than ever. Seeing its own filth and contrasting it with His ineffable purity, the soul would endeavour to crawl away out of this light, even as our first parents, after their sin, hid themselves from the eyes of God. What must be the enormity of sin seeing that the only place fitted for the unrepentant sinner is everlasting fire, in the midst of the screams of despair wrung from those who have not a single atom of hope, who have lost the power to love, whose hearts are continually torn by the thought that this is all their own fault?

The sceptic may sneer at the idea of hell and a hereafter, but the clear teaching of Christ stands against him. “Fear not them who can destroy the body and after that have no more that they can do, but fear Him rather Who can destroy both body and soul into hell.

“Yea, I say to you, fear ye Him.” “If thy hand or thy foot scandalise thee, cut it off and cast it from thee. It is better for thee to go into life maimed or lame, than, having two hands or two feet to be cast into everlasting fire.” If something so dear as a limb or an eye were to be a source of sin, we should not hesitate to take these drastic steps. Why ? Does Our Lord speak thus vigorously merely to strike terror into us? Undoubtedly that is part of His purpose. But one thinks too that these weighty warnings about hell are dictated by His love. He sees, on the one hand, the soul He loves intensely and purchases at such a price, and on the other He looks into the place of torments lying open there before His eyes. What wonder that His Sacred Heart throbs with anxiety to save, and that even divine eloquence finds difficulty in expressing the horror of the reality?

The sinner’s first fall into mortal sin! His first prostration in adoration before an idol! His first deliberate preference in serious matter of passion and selfish gratification to God! What ever would have happened if there were no forgiveness! If God had taken him at his word! Recall the circumstances-the day it was, the person or persons who were there, the place the crime was perpetrated-that first fall. Doesn’t it make one’s blood almost freeze to think that if death had come then, the sinner was lost now in hell?

IV

But the mercy Christ extended to the sinner after his first fall He does not accept for Himself. When He is down under the weight; not of His own sins but of ours, He is kicked and cursed and jeered at till at last, more dead than alive, He drags Himself again to His feet. And, as He forces open His eyes, weighed down as they are with blood and spittle, in order to see where next to place His foot, He finds Himself looking straight into the eyes of Mary His Mother. We have reached the fourth of the stations, the meeting of Jesus and Mary on the way to Calvary. When was their last meeting? Probably the evening before, when Jesus came in from the house of Magdalene and Martha at Bethania, two miles out, and left His Mother behind. What a night has passed since! “Jesus,” writes St. Ignatius, “spent the whole of that night in bonds.” He was flung into gaol, after the soldiers had finished their savage sport with Him. The stigma of the gaol! He is locked up, and wearily sits down on the hard floor of that narrow guardroom, with hands tied in front of Him, looking forward to the morrow which is to bring Him the Passion. That was the night for Jesus. And for Mary ? One thinks of the dreadful suspense all that night as she remained waiting for His return in the house out at Bethania. He had gone into the city for the Paschal supper and His Mother knows that enemies are there, thirsting like wolves for His blood. Why is He not returning to-night ? Every footstep she hears outside makes her mother’s heart beat more rapidly in hopeful expectation, only to sink the more deeply when the footstep passes by the door and Mary realises it is not He after all. Morning comes and with the first grey streaks of dawn she is on the road to Jerusalem. Magdalene, once the sinner but now the inseparable companion of Mary Immaculate, is by her side. Well-intentioned townsfolk meet her .on the way, and without tact or thought, they blurt out the news that cuts into her soul. He has been taken and the report is on everyone’s lips that He will surely be crucified. “There are tears which at their fountains freeze,” writes the poet, and Mary’s were of that kind. She was paralysed by excess of agony as she continued to walk towards Jerusalem, dazed and leaning on the arm of Magdalene.

Their last meeting-when He embraced her there at the door, when He was leaving Bethania, and she stood looking after Him, as a mother would, till He was quite out of sight.

And here is the next meeting in this fourth station. Such a terrifying contrast! When sin wreaks vengeance on the sinless Christ this is the result. And when He undertakes to prove His love for the sinner this is how He does it. The Father did not spare His own well-beloved Son, and Jesus will not spare the Mother He cherishes. His anguish at the sight of the grief He was causing her was probably one of the most poignant pains of the entire Passion. It is comparatively easy to bear suffering oneself, but it is agonising to make another suffer, whom one loves intensely. But Mary too must share in the work of redeeming souls, and she too must be given this opportunity of offering for men’s salvation Him to Whom she clung with a consuming love.

Their hearts were inundated with sorrow at this meeting but neither of them would have things otherwise. Jesus offered Himself, and Mary offered Jesus, each with a generosity devoid of any vestige of desire to withhold the offering, wholly or in part. For Jesus and Mary loved men’s souls, our souls who now are accompanying them to Calvary, and, although to give thus cost them unutterable anguish, their love of us rose higher still and both spoke their fiat. “Fiat voluntas tua,” said Jesus to the Father. “Fiat mihi secundum verbum tuum,” echoed Mary. It was hard to say, but they both said it. It was harder still to mean, but they did mean it, and gave overwhelming proof of their sincerity when out of love for us, Jesus offered Himself and Mary offered Jesus, on the way to Calvary.

V

Jesus could quite well have carried the cross the whole way Himself, had He not freely renounced supernatural help. But He needs help because He wills to need it. So Simon of Cyrene is forced to share His burden. God condescends to want the assistance of His creature. Just as last night, when Jesus lay prostrate in agony, He deigned to receive comfort from the angel-who after all was a mere creature-so now on the road to Calvary He is willing that a creature too should be privileged to give Him the help required to finish the journey.

The truth that God makes men’s salvation depend, to some extent, on our co-operation is, in the words of Pius XII, “a subject of inexhaustible meditation.” Let it be realised and the realisation must shake our souls to their very foundations. It is actually left to me to decide whether a certain number of souls is going to bless God throughout eternity in heaven, or blaspheme His holy name for endless ages in hell. How many are thus dependent upon me ? That is God’s secret, but it is beyond question that if I make myself the instrument He expects me to be, He will use me to save others, and if, through my neglect and selfishness I fail Him, these souls will not receive the grace which otherwise would have come to them. And, as our holy Father is careful to point out, this weighty responsibility for the souls of others rests, not only on priests and religious, but in due measure on all members of the Church. The issues involved leave us baffled and speechless in our effort to express their gigantic importance. If I fail to answer an urgent letter I can, perhaps, make good the omission by sending a telegram or a ‘phone message. But my failure to render myself fit for use as an instrument in God’s hand for men’s salvation-this is fraught with irreparable losses of daily and perhaps hourly opportunities affecting the welfare which is eternal of the souls for whose sake He is going to Calvary. “Woe is me if I preach not the gospel!” cried St. Paul. Small wonder!

Seize upon these opportunities, having made myself, as nearly as I can, what Jesus means me to be, and He pours into souls the healing graces of salvation and sanctification. Let these opportunities pass me by, let me resist His invitations and offers to myself, and it is more than possible that souls are excluded from heaven for ever as a result. Yes, assuredly, it is “a subject of inexhaustible meditation.”

But my co-operation is much more than a responsibility and a duty. It is also an honour. You know how jealously men guard for themselves positions and tasks which will redound to their own praise or help to swell their own bank account. Often indeed, in order to oust another, they will stoop to methods that cry to heaven for vengeance. If a man wins the sweep his instinctive reaction is to hug the prize to his own heart. If he is manager of a big firm, or shareholder in a lucrative policy, or if he has climbed to the head of his profession, you will frequently find that when he is getting old he wants to pass on these honourable posts to his own friends or relatives, and tries to exclude others.

Jesus Christ is very different. It is an inestimable privilege to help in the work of saving souls. It is a work that brings to him who engages upon it rewards and merits immeasurably above the highest pinnacle of worldly power or worldly prestige. Although it is the most divine of all divine works, still so pressing is it in its demand to be undertaken that anyone can help, anyone may have the honour, anyone and everyone is capable of learning how to do it.

Anyone and everyone. Before we pass on to the next station let us recall two anecdotes which have a bearing on our considerations here. A Legionary of Mary went one Sunday with a companion to mind the children of a poor woman and, by so doing, give her an opportunity of going out to Mass. But the woman declared she could not go, the reason being that she had no shoes. Whereupon this excellent apostolic Legionary took the shoes off her own feet, put them on the woman and promptly packed her away to Mass!

A certain artist used to spend long months perfecting the details of his pictures. Others would turn out six or seven pictures for a single one of his. A friend remonstrated. “Well,” said the artist, “this is how I see it. The others are painting for time merely, and merely for money. But as for me-I am painting an eternity. I want to turn out works of real art that will endure.” When men have long forgotten the victories won by generals and mighty statesmen, when hard-earned and closely-guarded money has long ago slipped like water through men’s fingers, when edifices and cities that are monuments to men’s pride have been reduced to a heap of ruins, when this world itself has crashed in-even then that zealous Legionary’s act will still be living and remembered and rewarded by God.

Jesus deigns to want my co-operation-as He wanted Simon’s and His wanting is my responsibility, and His wanting is my privilege. Aeternitatem pingo!

VI

No one tries to deny that in the Sacred Passion we are faced with lessons which our human nature, loving ease as it does, finds exceedingly hard to learn and put in practice. For this reason there is a grain of comfort in seeing our divine Master and Model avail of the relief, passing though it was, brought to Him by the action of Veronica. The woman’s heart in her overflowed with sympathy for the poor Sufferer, so she pushed her way through the crowd and offered to wipe with a towel that disfigured and bleeding face of His. Far from repelling her on the plea that He preferred to suffer, Jesus, in this case, accepts what she is eager to give, and, as a sign of gratitude, leaves behind on her towel the image of His own countenance. The scene forms the subject-matter of the sixth station.

From other parts of Our Lord’s life come other examples when again He chose or accepted what was naturally pleasant. Thus He went to the marriage feast with Mary His Mother, and we may reasonably assume that He partook of the simple pleasures provided. He was weary one summer evening and He sat down by the well on the roadside to rest. Quite exhausted one day He stepped into a boat with His disciples, provided Himself with a pillow, placed it under His head, and soon was fast asleep.

There are times on life’s journey when a faithful soul will please Him best by accepting relief, or a pleasure or a relaxation, in this same spirit of gratitude. “When the fire is lit,” writes the gentle St. Francis de Sales, we see that obedience would have us warm ourselves, provided it be not done with too much eagerness.” The proviso is important. In a painful illness it may be more pleasing to Him to take with gratitude the remedy or relief offered rather than bear the pain with a bad grace. It is quite possible that when depression weighs down upon one, the right course is to shake it off by curtailing one’s penitential acts and one’s prayer and allowing oneself more time for lawful recreation. Someone calls whom you are delighted to see, but just’ at a moment when you had arranged to go out and make a holy hour. Naturally you -would prefer to speak to your friend. It is likely enough that you will please God best in the circumstances by deferring your prayer and entertaining your friend. For it is not so much the accepting or rejecting of pleasant things that makes or mars the holiness of a soul, as the intention which directs the choice. Our Lord “did not please Himself,” If He accepted what was easier and more pleasant He did so because He saw that this was the Father’s Will. It would be unthinkable, for instance, that as He staggers along on this terrible journey, He should meet the offer of Veronica with harshness and remind her that He had come to suffer and not to seek relief. That would have cut into her heart. It would have wounded charity, and Jesus was incapable of inflicting such a wound.

You will always find that whenever He takes the easier course He is actuated by a high motive. It is not merely because that course is easy, not merely because He is led by natural impulse. Charity is at stake, or He sees a chance of instructing others, or He wills to draw souls to Him by accommodating Himself to their ways. There is nothing wrong in eating with publicans and sinners, or taking rest when one is tired. It is not forbidden to enjoy oneself and there is no sin in seeking relief when you are lying awake all night and convulsed with pain. You are not bound to fast if the Church grants a dispensation. But the all-important point for the soul that would follow Him loyally is the motive. There was no difficulty about this in His case, for He always did the things that were pleasing to His Father. With us the case is quite different. Always ready to take the line of least resistance, we can arrange everything to suit ourselves and then proceed to persuade ourselves that we want nothing except God’s Will- having first taken good care to have our own!

So where there is question for us of accepting what pleases us naturally, there is need of great sincerity in probing and purifying our motive. Still, Our Lord’s action in this sixth station makes it quite clear that many a faithful soul will remain most faithful, not by always thwarting itself, but at times by accepting-with the gratitude we see Him show here-the pleasant things of life, “giving thanks to God in all things.”

VII

It is likely that Our Saviour fell several times for He was more dead than alive as He stumbled along the cobbled streets. In this case there would have been a first fall and a last fall, and three or four-perhaps even more-in between. The fall we commemorate in the seventh station then, may be regarded as being representative of that uncertain number occurring between the first and the last.

As the sinner contemplates it in this light he can scarcely avoid recalling his own falls into sin from that sad day when first he grievously offended God down to the last mortal sin. How many such falls were there? Impossible, it may be, to reckon. He remembers good confessions made and firm resolutions taken, but after a while these were forgotten and world and flesh and devil returned to the attack and captured once more the citadel of his soul. He recalls fervent missions or retreats. He thinks of the earnestness with which he assured the Lord “never more will I offend Thee.” He thinks of the hymns he sang and meant, expressive of his sorrow, but, somehow, that contrition did not last, and when the atmosphere changed and the old sinful associations came back, he forgot all about his promises to God and all his good intentions.

The falls in-between! Suppose a child had the insolence to strike his mother a deliberate blow across the face. But presently, realising the wickedness of the act he falls on his knees and begs pardon. And mother, because she loves, easily forgives and tries to forget. But lo, the next day, perhaps even that very night, the same offence is repeated. It is followed by another apology, but yet a third and fourth time, at every opportunity, that child raises his hand and strikes his mother. What would you think of the genuineness of his act of sorrow? Possibly indeed he is sincere, but taking the whole proceeding at its face value, you would be inclined at least to doubt if that boy meant what he said when he assured his mother of his grief for his often-repeated sin.

Treat a human friend like this and the chances are that you sever the friendship for ever. Treat even a loving mother in this hard-hearted way and even she will ultimately grow tired of forgiving. But so immeasurably does divine love exceed even the strongest and purest human love, that it is prepared to go on forgiving even till seventy times seven times.

If, through God’s mercy and grace a man or woman has kept free from all mortal sin, or at least has done so for a long time, there is still much matter for thought and prayer in connection with this seventh station. Looking back over those years such a person will see innumerable infidelities and venial sins, and an apparent inability to eradicate them. After so many years trying to serve God there is still that bad temper which makes one impossible to live with. There is that slanderous tongue. There is that seeming lack of all love of prayer. There is petty jealousy. There is laziness. There is the shirking spirit which leads a man always to seek what is easiest for himself and let the difficult and disagreeable part go to his neighbour. There is love of ostentation, and worldly ways, and pride and censoriousness.

All this and more like it has been going on for years. And, during these years too, that man or woman has been perhaps almost a daily communicant. Who can estimate the opening such people give for hard criticism of religion? Others will argue, illogically of course, but yet they will voice their opinion loudly and with conviction, that if such religious people can speak so harshly or treat their servants with such injustice or fly into tempers that are a source of constant trial to others-if religious people are like this, what’s the good of going to sacraments and Mass, and saying prayers? Looking at Jesus lying flat under the cross in this second fall, one sees what good reason there is to strike one’s breast for the innumerable falls sustained on the road of life, even though they did not amount to mortal sin.

Though these lesser faults have a consoling aspect too. St. Francis of Assisi, when he saw how pride had brought one of his brethren to ruin, lay down on the ground saying : “Only here is a man safe! “ The memory of these lesser faults and one’s inability to grapple with them can be turned to account by increasing that virtue which lies at the foundation of all true holiness-genuine humility. A merciful Lord permits them in order to warn us that if we are weak in face of comparatively small temptations, we may not pride ourselves because we do not fall into mortal sin.

“Our Lord,” writes St. Francis de Sales, “treats us in just the same way as a good father or mother, who lets the child walk quite alone when it is in a soft meadow where the grass is thick, or upon a mossy bank, but on bad and dangerous roads carries the little one carefully in his arms. We have often seen souls courageously bear great assaults without being overcome by their enemies, who have afterwards been vanquished in very trifling encounters. And why is this except that Our Lord, seeing that they would not be much hurt in falling, has let them walk alone, which He did not do when they were among the precipices of grave temptations whence He delivered them with His almighty hand?”

VIII

In the sixth station we saw Our Lord accept the comfort offered to Him by Veronica, and we might have noticed the same when He allowed Simon to relieve Him of the weight of the cross. But, for the few isolated instances wherein He accepts, there are very many wherein He refuses to avail of the consolation offered. Indeed, the whole Passion is a seeking out of what is hard and repellent to human nature. In the eighth station we find the holy women weeping tears of compassion for Him in His truly heart-rending condition, but He does not, in this case, take what is offered to Him. Instead He directs them to weep over their own sins.

Why does He refuse consolation and why should this be His more ordinary mode of procedure? In His case there could have been no danger of His seeking it inordinately. If He was to accept the sympathy offered, as He did when He met Veronica, or when He ate with sinners, it is beyond question that He would have pleased the Father by doing so, and that His choice would have been determined by that motive only.

But He has come to give us an example and He knows all that is in man. He knows, therefore, that we are biased in favour of what pleases us naturally, and that there is need to suspect ourselves if we yield easily and frequently to our tastes and fancies, even if we tell ourselves that our motive is pure. “The kingdom of heaven suffereth violence and the violent bear it away.” The hard way is, generally, the safer way, if the soul is to advance in holiness. It is true that the hard way too has its dangers of pride, or imprudence, or lack of perseverance, but one must remember that the easier way is also beset with subtleties and snares. The question therefore is, which road has fewer perils, and the example of Our Lord and the saints indicates unmistakably that it is ordinarily the hard one. In an individual case there may be room for doubt whether to take what is pleasant or hard, but the general principle stands firm.

“Let each one reflect,” writes St. Ignatius-and the words have been cited as being an epitome of his whole teaching-”that he will make progress in all spiritual things in just the same proportion as he divests himself of self-love and self-will and self-satisfaction.” “Without mortification, and I say it boldly,” St. John of the Cross tells us, “we shall make no progress towards perfection, nor in the knowledge of God and of ourselves, notwithstanding all our efforts, any more than the seed will grow which is thrown away on uncultivated ground.” And, in many subsequent pages he goes on to lament bitterly over those souls who come to the service of God and advance a certain distance and who do not ordinarily fall into serious sin, but who yet, because they lean on creature comforts inordinately lose the immense graces which God would pour into them if they were only more generous in the practice of detachment. “Even one unruly desire, though not a mortal sin, sullies and deforms the soul, and indisposes it for the perfect union with God, until it be cast away.”

These are hard sayings, but they mark the way traced by Jesus and Mary on the road to Calvary. And it is the unanimous teaching of the saints, who accept these hard sayings literally and aim consistently at living them-it is their experience that once they seriously undertook the task of self-abnegation, tolerating in themselves no deliberate fault and ruthlessly suppressing the movements of self-love-that from that day they can recall how a generous God flooded them with light and grace, and poured into them a torrent of joyousness such that no earthly satisfaction could compare with it.

St. John of the Cross was nine months in a dark prison cell, during which time he was flogged every day, and nearly starved, and insulted, and taunted. Afterwards he assured a Carmelite nun that so great was the joy he experienced in his soul during that long period of imprisonment, that, for a moment of it a hundred years’ such privation would be a small price to pay. Is it any wonder that he waxed eloquent on the disastrous loss sustained by many tolerably good souls because they cling inordinately to merely human consolations like those which Jesus rejects in this station?

IX

Here in the ninth station Our Lord’s last fall is brought before us for our reverent consideration. His last fall- and mine ? What a comfort it would be to the sinner if, kneeling here he could assure himself that never again would he offend God, at least mortally. That, no matter how black the past had been, he was certain that now at least he had begun in earnest, and that the fall into mortal sin which he endured, an hour ago, or a week ago, or a month or a year ago-that that was his last fall. That this day, and this journey with Jesus and Mary, made to-day in this church, are going to mark a definite break with occasions which in the past have enticed the sinner back into the ways of sin!

The sinner’s last fall! Why not? Doesn’t everyone who ever tasted sin know that it is poison-a poison not without ita sweetness for the time being, but no sooner drunk than it leaves in the sinner’s heart a feeling of disgust and self-contempt ? And, in spite of the frequency of one’s experience, in spite of the fact that we ought to realise the price which will certainly be exacted afterwards in shame and anguish, none the less the serpent has continued to deceive us, time and time again. He did this with our first parents in paradise ; he has done it successfully for thousands of years and with the millions of Adam’s sons and daughters who have lived since.

And you, who are now following Christ and Mary to Calvary? He has deceived you too, has he? Perhaps so, but, please God you have had your last fall. What encouragement you experience as often as you recall that it is impossible to express the love that wells up in the hearts of Jesus and Mary for the poor soul that has fallen and that now fears the force of the bad habits developed! But that love of theirs is not mere sentiment. It is beyond question that a cure is possible, that many who stumbled and fell badly on the way did finally arise and go straight. More than that. Many repentant sinners, having had their last fall, arose to climb to heights of great sanctity. Why ? Because the love of Jesus and Mary for them translated itself into action ; immense graces were poured into those sorrowful hearts, and new vigour and new life resulted.

Listen to the grand prayer of the penitent St. Augustine and make it your own. “Take my heart, 0 Lord, for I cannot give it to Thee. Keep my heart, 0 Lord, for I cannot keep it for Thee. Send me any cross 0 Lord, which may keep me subject to Thy cross, and save me in spite of myself! “If only I could be sure that the past was all right, and that I would not fall again, then I might take courage and do. But there have been so many false starts, when I thought all was now at last firmly set for the rest of the journey, that I have lost hope! How often cries like these are wrung from the poor sinner’s heart! But who can estimate the consolation given to Christ when, despite that fierce temptation to abandon the struggle and make a truce with the enemy, the sinner arises once more to his feet, and once again takes hold of the cross, resolving to wage unceasing war on that sinful inclination, and, following in Christ’s footsteps, refuses to be beaten and stoutly affirms to himself the truth that that fall was definitely his last one ?

It is not only those who have preserved their innocence who give much glory to God, but those too who are broken-hearted with sorrow and resolved to turn away from sin and its occasions. Mary Immaculate followed Jesus to Calvary. But so did Mary Magdalene, the woman who once was a sinner, and who, hearing one day of this wonderful Jesus of Nazareth met Him, knew Him, loved Him, and from that hour counted the date of her last fall.

“The soul,” writes St. Teresa, “should firmly resolve never to submit to defeat, for if the devil sees staunchly determined to lose life and comfort and all that he can offer rather than return (to sin), he will the sooner leave it alone.”

The stripping of Our Lord is symbolical of the completeness of His giving. “He emptied Himself,” writes St. Paul, “taking the form of a servant.” And the prophet, speaking in His name asks : “What is there that I ought to do more to My vineyard that I have not done to it?” We ourselves have the phrase, when we want to express our readiness to go to any lengths to help a person, that we are prepared “to take the coat off our back.” We shall better understand that Jesus left nothing undone if we recall Who He was.

He was God, first of all, but in this Sacred Passion who could possibly recognise Him as such? All the way through the Divinity hides Itself. At any given moment He might have exercised His divine power to end the tortures His enemies were inflicting upon Him. We know how eagerly we welcome relief in pain-an aspirin when we have a bad headache, a refreshing drink to assuage our thirst on a burning hot day. What love is implied in the sentence of the apostle that Our Lord “delivered Himself up!” He handed Himself over to them to torture Him, and He kept His divine power steadily in check when He might have used it to paralyse the hand that smote Him or drove the nails into His sacred body. “He was coffered because it was His own will.” He began to suffer when He willed and He continued willing to suffer all that we are contemplating as we follow Him. He need not have begun to suffer, and His enemies continued to have power to make Him suffer simply because all the way through He refused to stop them.

Jesus was God. He was man too, and how are we going to make even the barest summary of the completeness of His giving as man? The strength of His body is reduced to utter prostration. Its beauty-and He had been “beautiful above the sons of men “-is so marred that the prophet describes Him as “a worm and no man,” a “leper,” a man from the crown of Whose head to the sole of His feet is one mass of wounds and blood. As man He possessed a human soul, all the powers of which were placed unreservedly at the disposal of those He loved. His mind was continually occupied thinking out ways and means to help them. His will bent all its energies in one direction-to labour for them, to pray for them, to heal them, to die for them. Over and above all this, last night He gave them Himself in the Blessed Eucharist and presently on the cross He will give them His Mother.

It is most literally true that He has nothing left. “What is there that I ought to do more to My vineyard that I have not done to it ?” A Lover Who is omnipotent has been lavish of His power to do. A mind that is divine seems to challenge us to excogitate anything still left, in order that, if we succeed, He may do it for our sakes. A heart that is throbbing with infinite love has given superabundantly. So in this tenth station He lets them take the coat off His back to indicate that omnipotence and infinite love have conspired together to ensure the completeness of the measure of the giving of Christ. If the sinner does not now understand that Our Lord is ready to forgive and to restore him, what more can omnipotence and infinite love do to convince him?

XI

The following extract is from Songs in the Night by a Poor Clare Colletine, and it will serve to introduce the eleventh station in which Jesus is nailed to the cross and raised up upon it. “What each soul is interiorly, face to face with God, unknown to anyone, is of vital consequence to all the human race, and every act of love towards God, every act of faith and adoration, every mute uplifting of the heart, raises the whole church, yea, the whole world, nearer to God. From each soul that is in union with God and at rest in the divine embrace, radiates a spiritual vitality and strength and joy which reaches from end to end of the universe, a source of grace to those least worthy of it and knowing nothing of how and whence it came.”

Thus the more a soul grows in holiness the more grace it draws down upon other souls. And what is holiness? Is it necessarily saying long prayers or performing frightening penances? No. Such things we find in some of the saints indeed, because by these means they make contact with Christ, the source of holiness, and ease their own cravings to atone to Him for sin. But it is “what each soul is interiorly” that really matters most. Each soul is to come “face to face with God,” and from this source to be filled with God’s own very life and energy-which sharing in His life we call sanctifying grace. The more fully the soul participates in this divine life the more it grows in holiness, and the more widely diffused will be its “spiritual vitality and strength” to save and sanctify other souls.

But before the soul can be filled in this marvellous way with God’s own life, it must first of all be emptied of sin and sinful attachments, and in this eleventh station Jesus shows how this is to be done. For here He is crucified, and the soul that would grow in sanctity must be crucified also. “They that are Christ’s have crucified their flesh with the vices and concupiscences.” Why? Is it that God delights in seeing His servants and friends suffer? Not at all. But the gift of His grace can be communicated to a soul only in the measure in which the soul is capable of receiving it, and as long as sin and deliberate sinful desires reign, the streams of the divine life are held in check.

If you want to sow flowers in your garden you must first uproot the weeds. If you want to pour gold into a vessel already full of mud you must first make space by throwing the mud out. Now the life of sin is transmitted to us as a sad heritage from Adam, and that is why suffering-”crucifixion”-is necessary. The “space” so to say, in our souls which should be occupied with the life of God is filled with the life of sin and selfishness, and before the divine life can be established and consolidated, the other must be put to death. Every act of self-conquest, every effort to push back the confines of the life of selfishness leaves more “room” for the divine life to expand, and so we pray, in a pregnant phrase put on our lips at Mass, that we may become “capaces sanctae novitatis.” (Final prayer in Mass for Tuesday in Holy Week.) May we deepen the capacity of our souls to contain more and more God’s gift of grace!

That is a thought which we may profitably ponder and examine ourselves upon, as we kneel and watch Him being crucified.

But there is more. Our Lord said : “I, if I be lifted up from the earth will draw all things to Myself.” He is crucified first and we have seen the application to ourselves of this first incident in the eleventh station and, after He is nailed He is elevated on the cross. In the measure in which the soul learns to withdraw by penance from what is sinful, in the same is she too raised nearer to God. She begins to relish the things of God-prayer, especially, and works of zeal. The mind is now absorbingly interested in what concerns God and His glory, so absorbed indeed that it is difficult for her to bother about anything else. The news of the day, the ways and means of making money, the pleasures which were formerly such a source of delight and excitement-these things have lost all their charm, for the soul has discovered other interests which are dearly perceived to surpass immeasurably in importance the trivialities upon which many men pour out their time and affections. Through the force of God’s, grace the soul too is “lifted up” into the bracing air of the supernatural.

Just as the trembling little thrush lying in your hand will spring, by the very force of its nature, into the glorious freedom of the open sky the moment you release your hold, so the soul delivered from the bondage of sin, soars swiftly into the light of God. And just as Our Lord promised to draw all to Himself, so too the soul, when freed herself and exulting in her new-found happiness, must needs share her treasure with other souls. Perhaps, like the Little Flower, it will be the soul’s vocation to remain near to the source of this divine life and by prayer and sacrifice to open the sluice-gates of grace and in this way bring salvation to men. Perhaps the soul, intoxicated with divine love, will “leave God for God,” by engaging in the works of the active apostolate. Which it is to be is God’s will to decide, but in either case the object is the same-to be “a source of grace, reaching from end to end of the universe.”

XII

All through this Way of the Cross we have been watching how Christ gives. Now the question arises : “Is all the giving to be on His side?” And the answer? We have a gift too to offer to God, one only gift and it is actually the same which He Himself is offering in the twelfth station. The sacrifice He is making here of His life, is ours to offer too, through holy Mass. What an ineffable privilege it would have been to stand or kneel on this hallowed spot while Jesus was hanging on this cross! When we come to Mass we are not coming merely to say our prayers, or make a visit, or go to holy Communion. We are coming, first and before all else, to offer Jesus to His eternal Father-that Jesus may plead for us as He pleaded here on Calvary, that He may thank the Father in our name for the innumerable gifts lavished upon us, that He may adore the Father and supplement our inability to do this in a fitting manner. Jesus belongs to us and we present Him, as the only gift worth while, to His eternal Father. We stand in spirit with Mary near the cross and continue the stupendous offering made on Good Friday.

Complaints are made about us that we do not understand the value of the Mass and that, as a result, we come late or not at all. If there is question of catching a bus on Sunday morning to get to a match, we take very good care to be in ‘our queue in time. But ten minutes or a quarter of an hour after Mass has begun is good enough for Jesus Christ! There is not much use in abusing Catholics who act in this way. Rather, let them sit back and try to realise what the Mass is. That is to get at the root of their trouble-little love for the Mass because little understanding of its marvellous significance.

And why is it true that “of all honours that have ever been rendered to God,” to quote St. Liguori, “whether by the homage of the angels and by the virtues, austerities, martyrdoms and other holy deeds of men, none could procure so much glory for Him as one single Mass?” Why? Because, in the Mass, Jesus takes our poor prayers and acts, and makes them His own, presenting them on our behalf to the Father. “He catches them up,” writes Bishop Hedley, “in His own infinitely strong and perfect acts and so carries them to the throne of His Father.”

You consider yourself fortunate if, when seeking a favour from somebody in a high place, you have a friend of his to plead your cause. Jesus pleads in the Mass-the well-beloved Son of God. He it is Who presents our prayers and petitions with His own, just as the priest offers, in one and the same chalice, the wine and with it the tiny drop of water.

Mass continues Calvary. That is why you cannot dissociate the two, and the twelfth station leads you almost imperceptibly into thoughts concerning the Mass. Indeed this station is represented at every Mass for the altar the crucifix must be placed, to keep vividly before our eyes the amazing truth that we need not envy Magdalene or John, or even the Blessed Mother, their privilege of standing by His Cross. What we should beg for in this station is a deeper faith,. for if that comes then our eyes will be opened to see into the depths of the mystery of the Mass and our hearts inflamed to love it. “The active participation of the faithful,” writes Pope Pius X, “in the sacred mysteries . . . is the first and indispensable source whence is drawn the true Christian spirit.”

XIII

A few years ago a little boy was dying, aged nine and a half. His mother, broken-hearted, was kneeling by the bedside. “When you go up to heaven, son,” she said, “you’ll ask Our Lord to send something to mother, won’t you? And what will it be? There was a short pause and then the child, gasping for breath and holding mother’s hand, managed to murmur : “When I go up to heaven, I’ll ask Our Lord to send you much-suffering and pain!” Of course the mother was dumbfounded, but the little lad continued : “Yes, mother. I’ve noticed that He kept a lot of it for Himself, and gave a lot to His own Mother whom He loved. It must have a great value then. If He couldn’t find anything better for His Mother could I ask Him anything better for you?

Often when the cross presses heavily upon our shoulders we are inclined to ask querulously what have we done against God to deserve to be punished so. Such a question dies away on our lips if we kneel on Calvary in the thirteenth station. Nicodemus and Joseph are taking out the nails from the hands and feet, for Jesus is dead. Reverently they lower the sacred Body and Mary stands there in mute agony to receive It into her arms. Between them they bear this treasure over to the “Stone of unction”-a table of hard stone, convenient for the work of embalming. Some horsemen, tradition says, pass by while the friends of our Lord are washing His wounds and embalming the Body, and horrified at the sight of His mangled condition, they stop to ask what He has done to deserve this. The answer is that He has done all things well, but He has submitted to this unparalleled butchery because He loved. That is the only explanation.

And as Mary sits there watching, holding His sacred head between her hands, pressing the wounds to her heart-now His hands, now His lips-ask her, and the answer is the same. Mary loved, and Mary’s love too must be subjected to love’s most searching test-readiness to suffer for the sake of the one loved. She must share in men’s salvation ; she must be given opportunity to show her love for them, and for the Father’s glory, so she too is permitted to suffer to a degree impossible for us to fathom or guess.

You can ask any chance acquaintance to perform a service that costs little or nothing-to open a door or drop a letter in the post-box. But if your request is going to make demands on his spirit of self-sacrifice-if it implies that he must hand you a large sum of money, or necessitates his denying himself a holiday or a free day, or if it will mean that he must endure for you hunger or thirst-if your request is going to include any of these things you are not going to turn to a chance acquaintance. If you have a true friend and his adoption tried, to him you will go, confident that he will do what you want, even at such a cost to himself. And your confidence is built up on the knowledge you have that sacrifice is the test of love.

We prove our love for Christ by prayer, by works of zeal, by organising sodalities and similar associations, but there is a proof more sure than all these or any of these. It is especially when He turns to us and asks us to suffer That He shows He can depend upon us to give the proof par excellence.

XIV

What a desolate little party they were, who followed His dead body to the tomb! You would say, as you walk after them in the last of the stations, that you could imagine no more ignominious failure than this. But are you right ? Even as they are walking to the place of burial He is already beginning to enter upon the hour of His triumph. For no sooner had He expired on Calvary than His soul went to Limbo and we can dimly imagine the ecstasy of joy with which the souls imprisoned there heard the gladsome news of their fast-approaching delivery. The faithful prophets and patriarchs of the Old Testament are there. The heroic mother of the Machabees who sacrificed her seven sons rather than violate God’s Law, Judith and Esther-types of Mary His Mother, St. Elizabeth, St. Zachary, and their son the Baptist, St. Joseph His foster-father-all these names come readily to mind as we enter with the triumphant Christ into that prison house.

The place is flooded with light, for Jesus is the true light, and we hear the heartening message : “Come ye blessed of My Father, possess the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world.”

The triumphant message continues, and on Sunday morning His sacred soul returns to Calvary to be re-united with His glorified body. Such a contrast now-no more suffering or disfigurement-but the face of Our Lord radiant with joy as He hastens, first to His Mother, and then to one friend after another, to speak to them of the kingdom of God, and to assure them that He is risen indeed. “Where, 0 death, is thy victory ? Where, 0 death, is thy sting?”

Without the hope of our own resurrection too, life would be a sort of blind alley. But we know that if we suffer with Him we shall certainly rise with Him. And even in this vale of tears we can begin to share in the joys of that resurrection. For there is a resurrection above our sins and passions, there is a resurrection above our worldliness and our petty jealousies, above our cramped and narrow selves, a resurrection befitting men destined to share, even here, in the glorious liberty of the sons of God.

We are told that He was risen “truly”-no mere appearances, but in very reality. After having thought on the lines indicated as we walked with Him to Calvary, surely that must be the first trait in our resurrection also-no mere external conversion, but, what He values alone, a conversion of heart, a turning of the heart away from sin, to be inflamed by His love. His resurrection was lasting, for “Jesus Christ being risen from the dead, dieth now no more.” He wants from us too, a clean breakaway, a definite and entire severing of the manacles that have held us captive-such as we saw when thinking about our last fall. And, after His resurrection, He appeared openly, letting everyone know of the wonderful change. Let me not be afraid to imitate Him here also. Many are timid about giving the impression that they love Him enthusiastically, and, whatever they have been in the past, are now determined to canalise all their energies in one direction-to make Him known and loved.

He rose truly ; He rose never again to die ; and He let the world know of His resurrection. So the little procession to the tomb is not so desolate after all, for Calvary is not the end but only the beginning.

One of. Michaelangelo’s greatest works is the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel. The surface measures some ten thousand square feet, and it is covered with over eight hundred figures, some twelve feet long, others eighteen, all most carefully and conscientiously finished. Every detail of each picture stands out with marvellous truth to nature-the hairs of the head and beard, the finger-nails, the creases in the garments. A masterpiece, an everlasting monument to the genius of him who produced it!

But what a price it cost him! Day after day the artist had to work, lying flat on his back, with the paint dropping down on to his face, In the course of time his eyes grew so accustomed to looking upwards that, long after he had finished his beautiful ceiling, he would have to hold a letter above his head in order to read it. You can produce a masterpiece only by being willing to pay the price.

We have seen the price paid by Our Saviour as we accompanied Him and His Mother from station to station. His masterpiece is the human soul pulsating with His own very life. Treasures of grace He has accumulated on Calvary, and He longs for the soul to draw near and be filled. Could we see into a soul radiant with sanctifying grace we would drop down on our knees in adoration, thinking ourselves to be in presence of God Himself.

How do you think Michaelangelo would feel if, when coming one morning to continue his glorious work, he found that during the night his pictures had been destroyed, that someone jealous of his genius had smeared paint all over his ceiling, effacing entirely those lovely images? It is a feeble expression of Our Lord’s attitude towards sin which utterly undoes the grand work which cost Him such a price. And suppose that during the night the great artist conceived a new idea, and next day proceeded to put it into execution, and after a month or two has the satisfaction of seeing it in all its perfection, how his heart is gladdened by his success! But again his joy and satisfaction are negligible compared with the joy the soul gives to Christ and Mary by endeavouring faithfully to correspond with their inspirations.

Admittedly this is hard to understand, for it is all to the soul’s interest, here and hereafter, to co-operate thus with the workings of grace within her. So concerned is Jesus about the soul’s sanctification that you would be inclined to believe that to Him some advantage must accrue from its fidelity and advancement. Nothing of the kind. All the benefit is to itself. Why then does Christ “bother” about the soul? Why not allow it to go its way? Why pay such a price for its redemption? Only one answer is possible, and we have seen it already. Love is the only explanation. “Greater love than this no man hath, that a man lay down his life for his friends.”

On our first page we promised to try to develop one single idea at each of the fourteen stations, and it may help us, when making the stations to have that idea in a form which is easy to remember. So here is a summary, indicating each of these ideas in the corresponding station :

I. Independence of men’s opinions.

II. Is it I, Lord, who am “guilty of death”?

III. Hell, and the sinner’s first serious fall.

IV. The fiat of Jesus and Mary.

V. The apostolate-a responsibility and an honour.

VI. Veronica and how to sanctify pleasure.

VII. The falls “in-between.”

VIII. The safety of the hard way.

IX. “Never again”-the sinner’s last fall.

X. The completeness of the giving of Christ.

XI. The soul’s Crucifixion and exaltation.

XII. Calvary and the Mass.

XIII. Suffering, the acid test of love.

XIV. Calvary, the prelude to our resurrection.

Nihil Obstat :

CAROLUS DOYLE, S.J. Censor Theol. Deput.

Imprimi potest :

© JOANNES CAROLUS, Archiep .Dublinen.,

Hiberniae Primas.

Dublin, die 16 Julii, 1945.

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Thinking In The Heart

A MEDITATION

BY MGR. JOHN T. MCMAHON, M.A., PH.D

INDEX

BOOKS ARE NOT ENOUGH

IN the course of life book-learning will give but little help in the trials and needs and all the ills that we are heirs to, but experience of a little daily interior prayer will leave an impress and a memory which will give strength. Interior prayer, meditation, is an experience of the soul. It does something to us and we react to it. Vocal prayer and the reading of books may exercise the mind only, and leave the heart and deeper parts of us unmoved. To savour God interiorly in mental prayer gives consolation, strength, and courage when books and book-learning fail us.

EACH DAY HAS A CROSS-ROADS

Within each one of us there is a recurring crisis. The crisis is the effect of the sin of Adam and Eve. Our inheritance from the Fall is a darkness of the intellect, a weakening of the will, and a strong inclination to evil. There is the downward pull of the old Adam and there is also another force within us aspiring to higher things. Each day we stand at a cross-roads where we must make a decision. Shall we surrender to the weakness of our own nature, or shall we say and act “no” to its promptings? One book in the Old Testament devotes itself to that problem. It is the book of Job whose experience proved to him that life on earth is a warfare. In the New Testament, St. Paul in his epistles tells us of the two forces within him pulling against each other, the call of the spirit and the drag of the flesh. The same story is found in the life of every saint. The saints are the great people of earth because they mastered themselves. The path to holiness for them, and for you and me, is that of interior or mental prayer. In overcoming our passions and building up the weak points in our characters it is the soul, and not the intellect, that must be exercised.

WE DO NOT GROW BY THE INTELLECT ALONE

Cardinal Newman, who was an intellectual of the first order, assures us that no man can make himself a better person by the intellect alone. In a memorable passage in his lectures on “The Idea of a University,” he writes:

“Quarry the granite rock with razors, or moor the vessel with a thread of silk, then may you hope, with such a delicate instrument as the human intellect, to curb those giants, the passion and the pride of man.” In a fine address to the youth of the world Pope Pius XII pleaded withthem “not to have religion in the intellect alone but above all in the heart.”

Thinking in the heart brings one nearer to God than reading or saying prayers which are often mechanical, meriting the rebuke of Christ: “Those people honour Me with their lips while their hearts are far from Me.”

The quickest flight to God is an act of mental, wordless prayer, and it can be made any time, anywhere. In a flash we are in His presence where we can consult Him. In mental prayer we raise our souls to God Who is the Senior Partner in the association of God and me. This is a most fruitful thought, namely, that God is in all we think, and say, and do, for He is a Partner. God and I are partners in my striving for personal holiness, consequently God never forgets me, and I can never become insignificant in His eyes. No matter what happens to me, I really mean so much to Him that if I withhold my love He misses it sadly. It is in mental prayer that I learn how important I am to God, and how highly He thinks of the partnership of God and me. A saint once revealed after death the greatest bliss of Heaven, when she said: “I am so loved.” Another saint cried out in amazement on his death-bed: “How He loves me!” We can never really understand from reading books or listening to sermons, that God loves us completely. This truth must come from our hearts.

THE DOOR OPENS FROM WITHIN

To capture the individual for God it is essential that God should capture the individual first and that is best done through mental prayer. Interior prayer is the way to digest for ourselves what we hear and read. In meditation we examine the inner man who is growing within us and who is directing our lives. The picture “The Light of the World,” painted by Holman Hunt, shows Christ in a garden at midnight. In His left hand He is holding a lantern and His right hand is knocking on a heavily panelled door. When the painting was unveiled, an art critic remarked: “Mr. Hunt, you have not finished your work. There is no handle on that door.”

“That,” said the artist, “is the door to the human heart-it can be opened only from the inside.”

Modern man is frustrated because he refuses to open the door of his heart to God. In the lovely words of St. John, Christ pleads that we open the door to admit Him: “Behold I stand at the gate and knock. If any man shall hear My voice, and open to Me the door, I will come in to him, and will sup with him, and he with Me” (Apoc. 3: 20 ). What more intimate picture could the Evangelist paint than that of Christ sitting and supping with us! The latch is on our side and not on God’s, for God breaks down no doors if we bar His entrance. Sometimes we even run away from Him, like chicks in flight from a mother hen: “How often would I have gathered together thy children, as a hen doth gather her chicks under her wings, and thou wouldst not” (Matt. 23: 37) . Why do we behave so? It is hard to understand. But some men love darkness rather than light. Our prayer should be that of the man born blind: “Lord, that I may see!” I need to see myself and my life in the light of eternity.

ALONE ON THE SILENT HILLS

Frequently during His public life Christ spent the night in prayer. Many a time He invited His apostles to come apart for a while and to think things over. When the pressure of missionary work, with the bitter trials of its disappointments, weighed upon Him, and the littleness of His fellows lay heavy upon Him, He went up alone to the hills. There among the strong, silent hills He found balm for His depressed spirit and fresh strength to continue His labours. Before and after a heavy programme of preaching He sought the companionship of His Father on the hills.

In mental prayer we can go up into the hills and learn to know ourselves. Unless we find time for meditation we shall never know the state of our spiritual health, we shall never know ourselves. To counter the mass-regimentation of this age of queues and drafts, and the communistic philosophy which does not recognise the individual, and scoffs at the dignity of a created soul,we should practise the advice of the Greeks: “Know thyself,” and follow the wisdom of the saints: “Attend to thyself.” There is no place for self-deception in the training to look in upon oneself.

WATCH YOURSELF GO BY

“lust stand aside and watch yourself go by;

Think of yourself as “he” instead of “I”.

Pick flaws; find faults; forget the man is you,

And strive to make your estimate ring true.

The fault of others then will dwarf and shrink,

Love’s chain grown stronger by one mighty link,

When you with “he” as substitute for “I”

Have stood aside and watched yourself go by:”

Christ showed by His example the inward way that leads to His Kingdom, and to the discovery of the true potentialities of one’s soul. In His eyes the inside of a man was much more important than the outside. The health of a plant, of an animal, and of a child flows from within.

“It is not what you say that counts,

Or merely what you do, “

Tis not the furbelow and flounce,

It’s the inside of you:”

Poor poetry, indeed, but words worth remembering for their message.

TO PAUSE AND THINK

In mental prayer we retire from the fuss and noise of the world around us and learn to savour God interiorly.

Through self-questioning we prepare the soil of our hearts for the seeds of holiness of life. Meditation helps us to catch a glimpse of the beauty of God and like St. Augustine we sigh:

“O beauty of beauties, too late have 1 loved Thee.”

Pauses are the best things in life. It is foolish to rely too much on anyone, to lean exclusively on a particular friend.

God alone is the only One to depend upon absolutely. He will never fail us. Adolescents are in danger of being dominated by the gang, accepting the gang standards, and following the gang like sheep. Hero-worship is also a danger, for one’s personality can be warped, crushed, and absorbed by too much hero-worship. In meditation we pause awhile in our enthusiasm to probe into the motives behind our thoughts, words, and actions. The printed word can also become a tyrant. I have appealed to generations of school children to shy at words as a young horse does when something unusual crosses his path. The trainer gently brings the horse back again and again until fear is replaced by understanding.

Every human being builds his own character; no one else can do it for him. The temple of life and mind can be built by none other than the inward dweller. The function of a parent, teacher, or priest is to stimulate, to inspire, to guide, not to mould and make. Home, school, and Church present the truth, the religious truth, the scientific truth, the literary truth and we grow in the truth in the measure that we do the truth. We learn to live by living, and another cannot live for us. The power that makes for moral integrity is within us and we alone can free it unto accomplishment.

PERIODS OF SILENCE

We are called to build better persons out of ourselves. The great creations in life were planned and executed in silence. From the beginning holiness of life has prospered most in periods of silence. Living is a giving, giving what one knows, giving what one is. The quality of inwardness must be first practised before we can give of our best. What is within us vitalizes, freshens, and fertilizes our thoughts, our words, and our actions. Our lives will bear fruit in proportion to what is within us. Each one of us gives what he is. We cannot kindle in another a spark of the fire which Christ came on earth to enkindle, unless within our own breasts a fire is burning. Christ says ofHis life: “I have come to cast fire upon earth, and what will I but that it be enkindled.”

A man grows from within. A man’s moral strength is within him. No man can fail who possesses courage within. No one became a better person by leaning on others. Character is built on doing the homely, everyday duties as well as we can. Courage counts most in life, courage to make the best of what is here and not whine for more, courage to fight oneself, and to lick oneself by attacking the weaknesses in one’s character. That courage will thrive in the silence of mental prayer.

THE BLIGHT OF EXTERNALISM

One of my professors at the Catholic University, Washington, D.C., supplied the preface to a book of mine whose title is “Building Character From Within.” He wrote: “We are living in the midst of circumstances that conspire greatly to impede the development of the quality of inwardness. Externals dominate our existence and cause us to live outside of ourselves. At an ever-increasing tempo, things are happening all around us, distracting us, over-stimulating us, leaving us scant time and little inclination to pay attention to the things that are happening inside of ourselves.”

The same Professor Johnson, Dean of the Faculty of Education, looks over the schools of the United States and here is his pregnant comment: “The blight of externalism has spread to our schools and means of education. We have put our faith in devices and techniques and mechanized our routine. We have developed better methods of testing and of evaluating our educational product only to turn about and make a fetish of the Test and the quantitative standard. Only now are we beginning to awaken to the fact that true education is always a human process, and that the achievement of immediate and more or less external objectives is not necessarily a guarantee that those deep and profound changes have been wrought in the heart and soul of the learner that are of the real essence of true education.”

That criticism is true also of Australian schools. Teaching school can never be like working on the assembly line in an automobile factory. The quantitative standard concerns itself with the visible, and what it cannot measure, tabulate, or tag is minimized in value, or just ignored.

AN INNER STRENGTH FACES THE DIFFICULT

Externalism as a goal will hold us as long as we are interested, but it has not within it the power to call us to continued effort even though we are bored. Nothing lasts unless it flows from a perennial source within us, as a river trickles from its source in the hills, gathers strength and continues flowing to the sea because its source does not dry up. A man will continue to do the unpleasant tasks and difficult duties as long as there is an inner source of power to draw upon. The quality of inwardness alone can save us, because it sends us back upon ourselves; like the prodigal son we return to ourselves:

“And returning to himself, he said: “How many hired servants in my father’s house abound with bread, and I here perish with hunger? I will arise, and will go to my father, and say to him: Father, I have sinned against heaven and before thee; I am not now worthy to be called thy son: make me as one of thy hired servants.” And rising he came to his father. And when he was yet a great way off, his father saw him, and was moved with compassion, and running to him, fell upon his neck and kissed him. And the son said to him: “Father, I have sinned against heaven, and before thee. I am not nowworthy to be called thy son.”

“And the father said to his servants: “Bring forth quickly the first robe, and put it on him, and put a ring on his hand, and shoes on his feet. And bring hither the fatted calf, and kill it, and let us eat and make merry. Because this my son was dead, and is come to life again: was lost and is found.” And they began to make merry” (St. Luke XV, 17–24) .

This joyous reception by God of the prodigal son awaits all who think in the heart, all who return to themselves. So many of us are just half-alive, lacking earnestness in God’s service, because we do not pause awhile to look in upon ourselves.

ONLY THE SILENT HEAR

When the London children were evacuated to the country during the blitz they could not sleep because of the quietness. Modern man lives amid a roar of voices becoming louder and louder. He dreads silence, silence around him, silence in his heart, because it is in the silence that fear begins to claw, the fear of failure and the fear of death. The Russians have a proverb: “The pig sees nothing of the sky,” for he never lifts his head from the constant search for something to eat and to drink. So it is for man in today’s world. Materialism provides so much to scramble for, so much to compete for, that man may go through life with his eyes on the ground, never lifting them to the eternal hills where Jesus Christ awaits an invitation to come to him and to abide in his heart. Man’s ears are deafened by the screaming high gears of progress so that they hear not the calm ofHis voice; man’s eyes that should see Him in so many guises are dazzled by the glitter of and the glare of the neon, and man’s feet that should tread so surely on the way that is Christ, are led away into so many dead-ending bypaths.

In the silence of a quiet moment we can have Christ our friend with us. We know He liked the quiet of the House of Bethany, not as a setting for preaching or for working miracles, but just to be in the company of His friends. We can feel the Presence of Christ within us if we go apart from the din of daily life and in silence listen to His voice.

SILENCE IS NOT A VACUUM

This quiet and silent moment is not a vacuum into which rush foolish flights of the imagination, useless recollections of the past, worries about the future; in a word, building castles in the air is not the interior recollection wherein one chats and lives with Christ. The first station of the Way of the Cross asks us to meditate on the silence of Jesus during His Passion. He has no word for Herod, few for Pilate, and seven short ones from the Cross. Though His tongue was silent His thoughts spoke unceasingly to His Eternal Father. The practice of His life on earth of being in constant touch with His Eternal Father continued throughout the silence of His Passion.

Eternal silence does not mean leaving a blank within us, into which worldly considerations crowd. No, the silence of the lips is but a condition, necessary no doubt, for an ardent chat with Christ within us. We must banish creatures, put away all that may distract us, and turn towards Him praying earnestly:

“Speak, Lord, for thy servant heareth.”

THE UNDERSTANDING HEART OF SOLOMON

When Solomon, a young man of seventeen, sat upon the throne of His father David, the Lord appeared to him, saying: “Ask what thou wilt that I should give thee.” Solomon said: “O Lord God, Thou hast made Thy servant King instead of David my father. And I am but a child. Give, therefore, to thy servant an understanding heart, to judge Thy people and discern between good andevil.” And the Lord said to Solomon: “Because thou hast asked this thing, and hast not asked for thyself long life or riches, nor the lives of thy enemies, but hast asked for thyself wisdom to discern judgment, behold, I have given thee a wise and understanding heart; insomuch that there had been no one like thee before thee, nor shall arise after thee. Yea, and the things also which thou didst not ask, I have given thee: to wit, riches and glory, so that no one hath been like thee among the Kings in alldays here before.”

As God promised, Solomon became not only the wisest, but the most powerful and magnificent of the Kings of Israel. Solomon taught his people:

“Refuse not wisdom, and she will keep thee. Take possession of wisdom, acquire prudence; lay hold of her and she will raise thee up; through her thou wilt receive honour and when thou hast embraced her she will heap favours upon thy head and put upon thee a crown of glory.”

On these words of wisdom St. Jerome comments: “Truly he who meditates day and night on the law of the Lord becomes with years more teachable, more formed through experience, wiser through the passage of time, and in his old age he gathers the sweetest fruits of his former labours.”

What a blessing to earn is peace and confidence in one’s old age! The body weakens with the years” burdens but the spirit grows in wisdom through thinking in the heart. If we could put the ideal of a happy and contented old age in a convincing manner to modern youth, vocations to the religious life would grow because such a life guarantees a peaceful close. As true wisdom consists in showing God by our actions that we love Him, consequently, the life of a good priest and of a holy religious is wise indeed.

“TEACH THE HEARTS OF THY FAITHFUL”

The Collect for Pentecost Sunday, the official prayer of the Church to the Holy Spirit, says:

“O God, Who on this day didst teach the hearts of Thy faithful people by the light of Thy Holy Spirit, grant us by the same Spirit to have a right judgment in all things and ever rejoice in His holy consolation.” In the Mass for Pentecost Sunday the Church gives us the most beautiful and most essential of all ejaculatory prayers, because from the Holy Ghost, that “sweet Guest of our soul,” flows all our supernatural life. The Church prays:

“Come, O Holy Spirit, and fill the hearts of Thy faithful, and kindle in them the fire of Thy love.”

Wisdom, and its peace of mind and serenity of soul is within the heart. The secret of sanctity and happiness is found in thinking in the heart. If every day during five minutes, we silence our imagination, close our eyes to things of sense, and our ears to earthy sounds in order to enter into ourselves, and there in the sanctuary of our baptised soul, which is the Temple of the Holy Ghost, we speak to our Divine Guest, saying:

«O Holy Spirit, soul of my soul, 1 adore Thee

Enlighten, guide, strengthen. and console me.

Tell me what I should do; give me Thy orders.

1 promise to be submissive in all that

Thou desirest of me.

1 accept all that Thou allowest to happen to me.

Grant only to me to know Thy Will.”

If we do this each day, we shall pass our lives happily, serene and consoled, even in the midst of pains, because grace will be in proportion to our trials, giving us strength to bear them. And should we live to an old age, we shall be at peace within and confidently await death full of merit. Cardinal Mercier assures us that “this submission to the Holy Spirit isthe secret of sanctity.”

The prophet says: “I will lead her into solitude and there I will speak to her heart.” The practice of silence is essential if we would become holy. But it is a silence of the tongue and outward senses that we may speak more to Him within us. Thinking in the heart will make us His instruments and all we do, pray, suffer, and love, we do “through Him and with Him and in Him: “What a challenging motto for life these words of the Canon propose! “PER IPSUM, ET CUM IPSO, ET IN IPSO!”

Each time the soul returns to herself she finds Jesus there. What an all-embracing philosophy of living is contained in acts of the Presence of God within us 1 We hear often these days of “Co-existence:” That in the spiritual order is unthinkable, God and His enemy cannot reside in the same soul. We must choose God or Satan; we cannot plan a coexistence of God’s Will and the world’s ways.

ACTS OF THE PRESENCE OF GOD

Jesus Christ, our model, kept His Eternal Father constantly in His thoughts. As a Babe lying on the straw at Bethlehem, as a Boy bending over the carpenter’s bench at Nazareth, as a Man walking the roads of Judea, and as a hanging on the Cross, Christ had His Eternal Father’s Will in His heart. No work or pain could wrench His mind from God the Father Whose Will He was on earth to do. His was the perfect life, at peace within, and to the world outside always cheerful. And the secret of it was: “For I do always the things that please Him” (St. John 8: 29).

Only mortal sin destroys the union of Christ and us. Whether we think of it or not we are incorporated with Christ Who is within us. What a pity we waste such a lever of holiness! To become holy then think of Him Who abides with us. St. Teresa warns us that “all sins are committed because we do not think of God as really present within us but imagine Him as very far away.” We sin because we do not keep ourselves in His Presence through a whispered word of love, or a thought of Him Whom we carry about with us. Because of our Guest within we must be careful without, watching our senses lest they insult Him.

“HE WILL TELL US THE ANSWER’-POPE ST. PIUS X

St. Pius X learned as Pope to live constantly in the Presence of God. He was a man of our own times who could apply to himself the guiding principle of St. Paul: “And I live, now not I, but Christ liveth in me” (Gal. 2: 20). Fre- quently during a conversation St. Pius X would stop for a moment to say: “Let us reflect that God is watching our every thought and word.”

His secretary, friend, and confidant for the eleven years of his reign, Car dinal Merry del Val, says of him: “In all his activities the Servant of God was led by supernatural reasoning which showed that he was always in the Presence of God. In the more important matters he would look at thecrucifix and exclaim: “He will tell us the answer.”

Before the most difficult decision of his Pontificate, his refusal to compromise with the French Government even though it meant a total loss of Church property and,revenue, St. Pius X spent the whole night prostrate before the Tomb of the First Vicar on earth, St. Peter, begging light and strength.

Even in solemn diplomatic audiences, when many non-Catholics attended, St. Pius X recalled to the distinguished gathering the simple fact of the Presence of God.

In the coat of arms adopted by St. Alphonsus M. Liguori for his Congregation of the Most Holy Redeemer there is the all-seeing eye of God to remind the Redemptorists that acts of the Presence of God are a fruitful source of holiness of life.

Thinking in the heart is really an exercise of the Presence of God within us. Let us conclude this meditation by saying a prayer by Cardinal Newman.

“May He support us all the day long, till the shades lengthen and the evening comes, and the busy world is hushed, and the fever of life is over and our work is done. Then in His mercy may He give us a safe lodging, a holy rest, and peace at last. Amen.”

Nihil Obstat:

W. M. COLLINS

Diocesan Censor

Imprimatur:

@ D. MANNIX

Archiepiscopus Melbournensis

24th January, 1956

********

Thinking With Mary

BY FRANCIS P. LEBUFFE, S.J

INDEX

MARY’S RECEPTION INTO HEAVEN

Mary is taken up into Heaven. The angels rejoice, and with blended praise they bless the Lord.-Offertory of the Mass of the Assumption.

Mary—the simple maid of Galilee. . . . the Virgin spouse of Joseph. . . . the Blessed Mother of God. . . .

IS TAKEN UP INTO HEAVEN first her soul sped its way home. . . . and a short while later her unsullied body was taken aloft. . . . the days of her pilgrimaging are over. . . . the years of her separation from her Son are ended. . . . body and soul united, she enjoys the unending vision of God. . . .

THE ANGELS REJOICE the Mother of their God is with them now. . . . their Queen has come to her throne. . . .

Michael rejoices, because she, too, has conquered the enemy he had routed. . . .

Gabriel is glad, for the Lord is with her now eternally. . . .

Seraphim and Cherubim rejoice, because her burning love of God rivals theirs. . . .

AND WITH BLENDED PRAISE no petty jealousies there. . . . no clash of .personalities. . . . but a harmony that springs from the triune God. . . .

THEY BLESS THE LORD for her, the masterpiece of His universe. . . . that she had been kept stainless. . . . that she had hearkened to Gabriel’s word. . . . that she, the second Eve, had crushed the serpent’s head. . . .

And Mary joins their praise—“My soul doth magnify the Lord’ . . .

“And my spirit hath rejoiced in God my Saviour.” . . . now. . . . and unendingly. . . . in utter fulness of happiness. . . .

Dear Mother Mary, I am so happy that you are in Heaven. body as well as soul. You deserve that for all you did for your divine Son and for us your other children. I rejoice. with the angels and I mingle my praise with theirs. You are happy, Mother, now, unendingly happy. Just keep a watchful, helping eye on me so that I’ll be happy with you when I die.

MARY’S POWER TO HELP

Be mindful, O Virgin Mother of God, when thou standest the sight of the Lord, to speak good things for us, and, to turn away His anger from us.-Offertory of the Mass of the Seven Dolours.

BE MINDFUL as our Mother she is always mindful. . . . but, as every mother, so she, too, wants her children to come to her and ask. . . .

O VIRGIN MOTHER OF GOD

Mother of God and our Mother, too. . . . loving her infinitely perfect Son. . . . loving ;her other, frail, weak children. . . . for she is our “Mother of Mercy “. . . .

WHEN THOU STANDEST IN THE SIGHT OF THE LORD and she is standing there now. . . . and she is all powerful with her Son. . . . for she is the “ Mediatrix of All Graces “. . . .

TO SPEAK GOOD THINGS FOR US tell Him that, though we have sinned, we have tried a bit. . . . tell Him that a mother always loves her weakling child most. . . . tell Him that a mother always yearns most for her wayward child. . . . remind Him that He was born in a stable for us. . . . remind Him that He willingly died on the Cross for us . . . tell Him that we really want to be with Him in our home. . . .

TO TURN AWAY HIS ANGER FROM US for we are “poor banished children of Eve “. . . . for we carry within us the taint of our First Parent’s fall. . . . for we ourselves have sinned again and again. . . . and have forgotten His love. . . .

-and He will listen to your prayer. . . . for you are—our Mother. . . . and His Mother, too. . . .

Mary, my Mother, you gave Our Lord all the help He needed as a baby and a growing child. Actually He could have done without your help for He was omnipotent But I am not; and I am very much in need of your help at all times, and I need it most when I sin and because I have sinned. So, as my Mother, be mindful of me and speak good things for me as you stand for ever before the throne of God.

MARY’S SINLESSNESS THOU ART ALL FAIR, O MY LOVE, AND THERE IS NOT A SPOT IN THEE.- CANT. 4:7

THOU—MARY, THE UNOBTRUSIVE MAID OF NAZARETH. . .

Mary, the betrothed of the village carpenter. . . .

Mary, who thought of herself merely as “ the handmaid of the Lord “. . . .

Art all fair—before God in Heaven—God the Father, who has picked her out to be the Mother of the Redeemer. . . . God the Son, who reverences her as the sole human agent of His earthly existence. . . . God the Holy Ghost, who has espoused her unto virginal motherhood. . . . before the angels, whose Queen she is. . . . before men, who revere and honour her as Mother and powerful helper. . . .

THERE IS NOT A SPOT IN THEE—NO SPOT OF ORIGINAL SIN, FOR SHE ALONE WAS PRESERVED FROM THE ORIGINAL TAINT. . .  no stain of actual sin—for she loved God too much to offend Him in any least way. . . . for she was “full of grace” and so was mightily helped to practise virtue. . . . for by a special gift from God she had perfect control over her lower nature at all times. . . . and we pray to her now—for we find virtue difficult. . . . and sin is attractive. . . . and our lower nature rises in rebellion. . . . and she will help us because she is our Mother. . . .

Dear Mother Mary, what a wonderful gift that was which you had. No slightest sin ever stained your soul. With me it has been so different. Yet you love me and you want me to stop offending your Son and to grow holier every day. I want to, too. So please pray for me and I will try to do my part.

MARY OUR MOTHER

He saith to His Mother: Woman, behold thy son. After that, He saith to the disciple: Behold thy Mother.-John 19:26–27.

Woman—who harboured Me nine months within your womb. . . . who nurtured Me at Bethlehem and Nazareth. . . . whose love grew as the years passed on. . . . who remains close to Me to the last. . . .

BEHOLD THY SON—NOT LIKE ME, HIGHEST, HOLIEST MANHOOD, JOINED TO GOD. . BUT JOHN, ‘MY LOVING DISCIPLE. . .  and also each human being throughout all time. . . . each one a mere creature—slow-footed toward virtue. . . . wearying quickly of holiness. . . . for whom I died and who caused My death. . . . but loved by Me to the end. . . .

AFTER THAT, HE SAITH TO THE DISCIPLE—FIRST AND FOREMOST TO JOHN. . .  thereafter to each one of us sanctified in Baptism. . . . strengthened in Confirmation. . . . cleansed in Penance. . . . nurtured in Holy Communion. . . . called to be a saint. . . . destined to unending happiness. . . .

BEHOLD THY MOTHER—WHO LOVES YOU BECAUSE I LOVE YOU. . .  who loves you as she loves Me. . . . who watches over you always and everywhere. . . . who wants to help you to be like Me. . . . will you let her?. . . .

Yes, dear Mother, I too accept you as my Mother. I should be very foolish if I did not, for you are so good and so kind and so interested in me and in all that I do. I can’t be as good as John. But I do want to try to be at least not too unworthy a child of such a holy Mother.

MARY QUEEN OF THE ROSARY

Queen of the most holy Rosary,, pray for us.-Litany of Loreto.

Queen of the most holy Rosary—of the Joyful Mysteries—of the Annunciation, when you heard tremblingly that you were to be God’s Mother. . . . of the Visitation, when your lips broke forth exultingly into the Magnificat. . . . of the Nativity, when you first looked rapturously into the eye of your Babe. . . . of the Presentation, when you offered God to God. . . .

OF THE FINDING, WHEN THE AGONY OF DAYS WAS CHANGED INTO THE JOYS OF NAZARETH’S EIGHTEEN YEARS. . . . OF THE SORROWFUL MYSTERIES—OF THE AGONY, WHEN YOUR SON FELL PROSTRATE IN HIS OWN BLOOD. . .  of the Scourging, when every lash tore your own heart too. . . . of the Crowning With Thorns, when men reviled your Son as king. . . . of the Carrying of the Cross, when you met and followed your doomed Son. . . . of the Crucifixion, when you remained at His deathbed to the end. . . .

OF THE GLORIOUS MYSTERIES—OF THE RESURRECTION, WHEN HE BROKE THE BONDS OF DEATH, AND, risen, paid you His first visit. . . . of the Ascension, when He left you behind to tarry a while with His growing church. . . . of the Descent of the Holy Ghost, who came upon you at prayer with the Apostles. . . . of the Assumption, when He called you home from your exile. . . . of the Coronation, when, to the joy of angels and of saints,

He crowned you Heaven’s Queen. . . .

PRAY FOR US—IN OUR JOYS, THAT WE MAY USE THEM ARIGHT, AND NOT LET THEM BLIND US TO THE THINGS. OF GOD. . .  in our sorrows, that we may sanctify ourselves by them as you did by yours. . . . in moments of success and triumph, that our frail minds may not be turned to pride. . . .

PRAY FOR US, NOW-AND, AT THE HOUR OF OUR DEATH. . .

Dear Mother Mary, day after day in my Rosary, I think over the mysteries of Our Lord’s life and of yours too. Sometimes I do it very carelessly and very unthinkingly, hardly paying any attention to God or to you or to what I am saying. Help me in each mystery to turn the pages of Our Lord’s life attentively, and, as I say the beads, teach me a little of what you saw there.

MARY’S CHILD PLEADS O Mary, conceived without sin, pray for us who have recourse to thee.

O Mary—” daughter of the mighty Father “. . . . Mother of the Eternal Son. . . . Spouse of the Holy Spirit. . . . virgin wife of Joseph. . . .

Conceived without sin—original sin found no place in you. . . . nor did its baneful effects mar the peace of your soul. . . . but your soul came from God’s hands—enriched with sanctifying grace. . . . filled to overflowing with that grace. . . .

“ thou art all fair. . . . and there is not a spot in thee “ (Cant. 4:7). . . .

Pray for us—we need your help “mourning and weeping in this valleyof tears. . . . Our Lord loves you, and will heed your prayer. . . . we pray to Him, but He will listen to you, His Mother, more readily. . . .

WHO HAVE RECOURSE TO THEE—WE COME, BECAUSE WE KNOW OUR NEED. . .  we come, because we are conscious of our sins. . . . we come, because we fear our weakness. . . . we come, because you are our Mother. . . . to whom else could we go?. . . .

“O Mother of the Word Incarnate, despise not my petitions “. . . .

“but in thy mercy, hear.” . . .

“and answer me.” . . .

MOTHER-YOUR CHILD CALLS. . .

Mary, my Mother, you were so blessed by God that you never committed the slightest fault your whole life through. But you lived in this world and you know the temptations that surround me; and you know, too, how frail I am and how easy it is for me to fall. So I know you will pray for me to your Son for grace to avoid sin more and more and to grow daily more like Him and you.

MARY QUEEN OF HEAVEN QUEEN OF HEAVEN, PRAY FOR US.-LITANY OF LORETO

QUEEN OF HEAVEN—FOR SHE REIGNS THERE, BODY AND SOUL UNITED FOREVER. . .  seated at the right hand of her Son. . . .

TRULY QUEEN OF HEAVEN—FOR SHE IS MOTHER OF GOD. . .  and Spouse of the Holy Spirit. . . .

Queen of Heaven by right, not merely by special favour. . . .

QUEEN OF HEAVEN

Queen of the nine choirs of angels. . . .

Queen of the baptized infants. . . .

Queen of saintly young men and women who walked through life cleanly. . . . Queen of aged folk who had served God long. . . .

Queen of the saved in the Old Law. . . .

Queen of the saved in the New Law. . . .

Queen of those who had known and loved her while they were on earth. . . . Queen of those who had never heard of her until they saw her in Heaven. . . . Pray for us—who know you—that we may know you better. . . . that we may love you more. . . . that we may imitate you more closely. . . . that we may make others know you better. . . . that we may come to know your Mother’s love. . . .

PRAY FOR US—THE YOUNG, THAT WE MAY KEEP OUR SOULS STRONG AND PURE. . .  the more mature, that we may fight the fight of life aright and set a good example. . . . the older folk, that our feet may walk toward the grave expectantly. . . . all, that one day you may be our Queen, too, and for ever. . . .

Dear Queen of Heaven, I need no formal invitation to come to you nor must I wait long in line for the privilege of a brief moment with you. I can come to you at any time and can chat away as long as I please and you will never hurry me away. Let me always remember that, especially when I need you most. Even when I don’t come to you, please keep on praying for me. And if ever I cease to walk with Our Lord because of sin, please come and find me, and bring me back to His side and to yours.

MARY WORTHY OF ALL PRAISE

Happy indeed art thou, O holy Virgin Mary, and most worthy of all praise, for out of thee arose the Sun of Justice, Christ Our Lord.-Offertory of the Votive Mass of the B. V. M.

HAPPY INDEED ART THOU, O HOLY VIRGIN MARY—“BLESSED ART THOU AMONG WOMEN” (LUKE 1:42). . .

“behold from henceforth all generations shall call me blessed” (Luke 1:48). . . . happy she was on earth, despite her sorrows, because she was always so close to Him. . . .

HAPPY SHE IS IN HEAVEN—AS QUEEN OF HEAVEN. . .  as Mediatrix of All Graces for us who are yet to be finally redeemed. . . . as the Mother of her devoted children here below. . . .

MOST WORTHY OF ALL PRAISE—BECAUSE GOD HIMSELF PRAISED HER. . .  because of all she has done for us. . . . because, try as we may, our slight praises can never equal her worth. . . . because it will be our joy throughout eternity to praise her. . . .

FOR OUT OF THEE AROSE THE SUN OF JUSTICE, CHRIST OUR LORD—TO CHRIST WE OWE EVERYTHING, AND WE OWE CHRIST TO MARY. . .  and the fact that she is His Mother makes her “happy. . . .

And most worthy of all praise “. . . . for out of thee arose the Sun of Justice, Christ Our Lord—the world was in the darkness of inherited and personal sin until He came. . . . for He was a light “to enlighten them that sit in darkness, and in the shadow of death “ (Luke 1:79),. . . .”the Sun of Justice,” revealing to mankind again—their duty to God. . . . their obligations to their fellow men. . . . the worth of their immortal souls. . . . the undying love of God for man. . . .

IS CHRIST “ THE SUN OF JUSTICE “ FOR ME—FLOODING THE INNERMOST RECESSES OF MY MIND WITH KNOWLEDGE OF HIS TRUTHS?. . .  storing my memory with the recollections of all His favours?. . . . expanding my will with His joyous love “ to run in the way of His Commandments? “

Dear Mother Mary, I am so glad that you are so happy and that men praise you so much. We ought to, because you gave us Christ Our Lord, who has brought life and light into our lives. I haven’t shown my appreciation very much but I’ll try to do better in the future, for you are my Mother and I want to prove myself your devoted child.

MARY’S GREATNESS

You who are more honourable than the Cherubim and incomparably more glorious than the Seraphim, . who have borne without stain God the Word; you, 0 Mother of God, we magnify.From the Dismissal of the Holy

Liturgy according to St. John Chrysostom.

YOU WHO ARE MORE HONOURABLE THAN THE CHERUBIM—THE CHERUBIM AND SERAPHIM ARE CLOSEST OF ALL THE ANGELS TO THE THRONE OF GOD. . .  yet Mary is higher than both, for of all mere creatures she is nearest to God in Heaven. . . .

MORE HONOURABLE THAN THE CHERUBIM—WHO ARE RENOWNED FOR THEIR KNOWLEDGE AND UNDERSTANDING of God. . . . who therefore look so deep into the mysteries of God. . . .

FOR MARY WAS GOD’S MOTHER—AND SO KNEW HIS ETERNAL SECRETS. . .  and gave Him His human nature and caught His first smile. . . . and taught Him to lisp His first words. . . . and helped His first steps on the earth He had made. . . .

His confidante through thirty long silent years. . . .

AND INCOMPARABLY MORE GLORIOUS THAN THE SERAPHIM—THE SERAPHIM WHO LOVE GOD MORE INTENSELY THAN ALL THE HOSTS OF ANGELS. . .  the fires of whose love are lighted more brightly because they are so close to the innermost love of the Godhead. . . . yet Mary is incomparably more glorious than they because her soul had been filled full with love from the moment of her

Immaculate Conception. . . . because her love drew God down from Heaven. . . . because, it was a mother’s love. . . .

THOU WHO HAST BORNE WITHOUT STAIN GOD THE WORD—” HAIL, FULL OF GRACE, THE LORD IS WITH THEE: BLESSED ART THOU AMONG WOMEN” (LUKE 1:28). . .

“Hail, holy parent, who didst bring forth the king, who rules Heaven and earth forever “ (Introit of the Votive Mass for the B. V. M.). . . .

“Thou art blessed and worthy of reverence, O Virgin Mary, who, without any violation of purity, became the Mother of Our Saviour” (Gradual of the same Mass). . . .

YOU, O MOTHER OF GOD, WE MAGNIFY—YOUR HYMN OF JOY WAS: “MY SOUL DOTH MAGNIFY THE LORD” (LUKE 1:46). . .

BUT RIGHTLY WERE YOU PRAISED IN TURN—BY THE ANGEL: “BLESSED ART THOU AMONG WOMEN.” . .  by Elizabeth : “ Blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb “ (Luke 1:42). . . . by Joseph, who was told by an angel of your sinlessness. . . . by saints and sinners down throughout the ages. . . . by your Son, who made you His Mother. . . . to that grand chorus we add our own weak voices. . . .

AND WE SHALL SING YOUR PRAISES—IN OUR HEARTS. . .  but above all by the manner of our lives. . . .

Dear Mother Mary, I love you and I want all men to know how great you are and what wonderful things God did for you and how high you are up in Heaven. But most of all, I want them to know your love for us as -Mother. I’m glad I know you are my ‘Mother and I beg of you to help me to be every day a more devoted child, MARY AND SINNERS Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners.

HOLY MARY—WHO ONCE WAS AN EARTHLY WAYFARER LIKE MYSELF. . .  who once knew the hardships of life as I. . . . who led a hidden life in an obscure village. . . . who knew sorrow and misunderstanding just as I. . . . yet through it all was so holy that she was “full of grace.” . . .

MOTHER OF GOD—OUT OF ALL THE DAUGHTERS OF EVE SHE ALONE WAS CHOSEN TO BRING GOD INTO THE WORLD AS MAN. . .  and because she is the Mother of God she is all powerful with Him. . . . and she is the Mediatrix of All Graces. . . . and yet she is our Mother too—because being the Mother of the physical Christ she is by that very fact the Mother of His Mystical Body, too. . . . because Christ freely gave her to us as our Mother when He was dying on the Cross. . . . she loves us as she loved Him, and that means that she guards and protects us. . . . that she continually intercedes with her almighty Son for us her other needy children. . . .

PRAY FOR US, SINNERS—UNLIKE HER, SIN HAS STAINED OUR SOULS—ORIGINAL SIN FROM WHICH SHE WAS PRESERVED. . .  actual sin from which she refrained by reason of her love of God. . . . and sin has affected our souls and left its’ mark thereon. . . .

AND SO WE NEED HER HELP—FOR WE ARE FRAIL BY NATURE—AND WE ARE FRAILER BY SIN. . .  we are inconstant, one day trying, another not even wanting to try. . . . we are easily led away from holy living by pleasures that taint. . . . we drop our eyes to earth too often. . . . we frequently forget that we have not here a lasting home. . . .

PRAY FOR US SINNERS—NOW. . .  and at the hour of our death. . . .

Dear Mother Mary, you are safe in Heaven, but I must still get there. You lived here on earth and you know all the dangers that beset me; you know too how weak and fickle I am. So please pray hard for me, a sinner, who wants to do better and wants very much to get to Heaven and be with you. Pray for me now and at the hour of my death for the distance between “now” and that hour, grows daily and hourly shorter and shorter.

MARY MEDIATRIX OF ALL GRACES

In me is all grace of the way and of the truth, in me is all hope of life and of virtue.-Ecclus. 24:25. Used as the Gradual in the Mass of Our Lady Mediatrix of All Graces.

IN ME—AS MOTHER OF GOD. . .  as Seat of Wisdom. . . . as Mediatrix of All Graces. . . .

ALL GRACE OF THE WAY—THROUGH MARY WE KNOW THE WAY AS SINGLE PERSONS. . .  as married persons. . . . as parents. . . . as persons vowed to God. . . .

THE WAY OF LIVING—POORLY, YET CONTENTEDLY. . .  among worldly people, yet always looking to Heaven. . . . unassumingly, though honoured highly by God. . . . holily, because we are always close to Him in the Blessed

Sacrament. . . . and through Mary we receive the graces so to live. . . .

AND OF THE TRUTH—ABOUT GOD. . .  about our Catholic faith. . . . about ourselves. . . . about our days of pilgrimaging here. . . . about Heaven to which we hope to come. . . .

“ for in her is the spirit of understanding : holy, one, manifold, subtle, eloquent, active, undefiled, sure, sweet, loving that which is good “ (Wis. 7:22). . . .

IN ME IS ALL HOPE OF LIFE—OF A HOLY, HAPPY LIFE NOW—WITH THE LOVE OF GOD IN OUR HEARTS. . .  with our natural joys sanctified. . . . with our sorrows eased. . . . with our eyes kept always on Heaven. . . . of an eternal life of happiness thereafter to which we shall come through her aid. . . .

AND OF VIRTUE—WITH HER AS OUR MODEL. . .

WITH HER OBTAINING GRACE FOR US—TO PRAY WELL. . .  to suffer well. . . . to take our pleasures well. . . . to act always and everywhere as her true children. . . .

Dear Mother Mary, I am so glad that I can be sure of your help on the way home to Heaven. The way at times is rough and narrow and I stumble as I go on. So since all help comes through you, please get me much grace to lead a holy life always and everywhere so that I may at last come home to you.

MAKING PRESENTS THROUGH MARY

They found the Child with Mary His Mother, and falling down they adored Him; and opening their treasures, they offered Him gifts: gold, frankincense, and myrrh.-Matt. 2:11.

They found the Child with Mary His Mother—so it was when the Magi came. . . . so it has always been, for Jesus and Mary are inseparable. . . . and it should be so in my life—in my thoughts. . . . in my words . . . in my prayers. . . . in my devotions. . . .

Jesus and Mary must always be together. . . .

AND FALLING DOWN THEY ADORED HIM—BY REVELATION THEY KNEW HIM AS GOD AND ADORED HIM AS GOD. . .

BY REVELATION WE TOO KNOW HIM AS GOD—AND BY FAITH WE ACKNOWLEDGE HIM AS GOD. . .  and by hope we expect to attain to Him as God. . . . and by love we give our service to Him as God. . . .

“ we praise Thee, we bless Thee, we adore Thee, we glorify

Thee.” . . . .

“.we give Thee thanks for Thy great glory.” . . . and Mary told them much about Him. . . . and she answered their questions. . . . and she helped their holy desires. . . .

AND OPENING THEIR TREASURES, THEY OFFERED HIM GIFTS: GOLD, FRANKINCENSE, AND MYRRH—THEY GAVE THEMSELVES, AND THEY GAVE THEIR GIFTS. . .  they gave what they cared for most. . . . and Mary took the gifts graciously in the name of her Child. . . . and yet a short while back, they were strangers to Him, the true God. . . . but I know God and I have known Him long. . . .

I have received many gifts from Him and know His love. . . .

SO I, TOO, MUST OPEN MY TREASURES, AND GIVE HIM—MY BODY, IN FULNESS OF CHASTE LIVING. . .  my mind, in ready acceptance of the truths of faith. . . . my will, in fullest obedience to His laws. . . .

AND I MUST LET ALL MEN KNOW HE IS MY GOD—BY LIVING THE LIFE HE EXPECTS OF ME AND THAT THEY KNOW I BELIEVE HE EXPECTS OF ME. . .  by fullest external compliance with the Catholic way of living. . . . by earnest fulfilment of the obligations of this present life. . . . and yet by a manifest expectancy of a life to come. . . . thus did Mary always act and her life was an inspiration to all. . . .

Dear Mother Mary, you were always giving your best to Jesus; and so I come to ask your help to give Him a present and the present that He wants. I know what that is : myself, my mind, my heart, my life. Help me give it to Him completely every day-as you did. He deserves it, and I really want to give it all to Him.

MARY QUEEN OF APOSTLES

We fly to thy patronage, O holy Mother of God. Receive us, our Mother, our Queen. Ask thy Son, the Lord of the harvest, that He send labourers into His haarvest: Tract in the ‘Mass of Our Lady Queen of Apostles.

We fly to thy patronage, O holy Mother of God—our frequent sins make us realize our own lack of virtue. . . . our inconstancy proves to us our inability to help ourselves. . . . so we look about for someone powerful to aid us. . . .

AND TO WHOM BETTER CAN WE TURN THAN TO GOD’S AND OUR MOTHER?. . . . RECEIVE US, OUR MOTHER, OUR QUEEN—THERE IS NO STRONGER APPEAL THAN TO A MOTHER’S LOVE. . .  there is no one more powerful than our Mother who is Queen of Heaven. . . .

MOTHER AND QUEEN—WHOM HER SON OBEYED WHEN ON EARTH. . .  to whom her Son still hearkens in Heaven. . . . who with all her power and all her glory is still the loving

Mother of us, “poor exiled children of Eve “. . . .

ASK THY SON, THE LORD OF THE HARVEST—HE CAME DOWN FROM HEAVEN TO REDEEM OUR SOULS. . .

HE LIVED AND DIED—TO ACCOMPLISH THAT REDEMPTION. . .  to set us an example of how we might apply that redemption to our own souls. . . .

TO SEND LABOURERS INTO HIS HARVEST—INTO EACH HOME, THAT IT MAY BE ANOTHER NAZARETH. . .  into each school, that all may learn more of Him. . . . into each office and factory and workshop, that each may work as He worked. . . . into each place of social amusement, that He may bless their pleasures as He did at Cana. . . . into civic meetings, that all may plan according to His law. . . . into each hamlet and town and city and country, that His peace may reign over all. . . . and I can be such a labourer, getting in His harvest if I pray. . . .

If I say the apt word at the apt time. . . . if I so live that from my very life all may come to know and love God more. . . .

Dear Mother Mary, Queen of the Apostles, your one thought was and is to bring each one of us nearer to your Son. I want to do that too. I want to make my soul His and make every one I deal with His. And so I shall try to show others that I live up to His law because I love Him. You will help me, won’t you, to do this job which is so big for little me.

A PRAYER FOR SINLESSNESS

Grant, we beseech Thee, Almighty and Eternal God, that as we venerate with festive solemnity the untarnished virginity of the most pure Virgin Mary, so, by her intercession, may we attain to purity of mind and body.Collect for the Feast of the Purity of the Blessed Virgin Mary (October 16).

GRANT, WE BESEECH THEE, ALMIGHTY AND ETERNAL GOD—DAILY AND HOURLY OUR OWN INNER WEAKNESS IS BROUGHT HOME PAINFULLY TO US. . .  if we relied only on ourselves, the outlook would be rather hopeless. . . . but God is almighty and eternal. . . . and He really wants to help us. . . . thus we turn to Him trustingly and hopefully. . . .

That as we venerate with festive solemnity—“Honour thy father and thy mother” is a commandment we lovingly fulfill towards Mary, who is our Mother. . . . truly she is “the Mother of fair love, and of fear, and of knowledge, and of holy hope” (Ecclus. 24:24). . . . and as her feasts return, we try to show our love for her in acts of special devotion, alone and together. . . . The untarnished virginity of the most pure Virgin Mary—by one of God’s greatest miracles, she became the Virgin

Mother of the God-Man. . . . her virginity was untarnished before, at and after the birth of Christ. . . .

Virgin most powerful. . . .

Virgin most merciful. . . .

Virgin most renowned. . . .

SO BY HER INTERCESSION—NO MOTHER EVER WATCHED OVER HER CHILDREN MORE JEALOUSLY THAN MARY WATCHES US. . . . NO MOTHER WAS EVER MORE ANXIOUS TO HELP HER CHILDREN THAN

Mary is to help us. . . . to each of us Mary says: “As the mother loveth her only son, so did I love thee” (2 Kings 1:26). . . . May we attain to purity of mind and body—that we may not do anything unworthy of the family traditions of our faith. . . . that we may avoid each slightest fault. . . . that we may think the things of God. . . .

Dear Mother Mary, no slightest fault ever stained your soul, which was always most pleasing to God. The story of my life is just the opposite. But I really want to do better. So plead with your divine Son to give me much grace to avoid even the slightest sin and to grow daily more holy and thus more like Him and you.

MARY GATE OF HEAVEN

Adorn thy bridal chamber, Sion, and receive Christ the King; embrace Mary, who is the Gate of Heaven; for she brings the glorious King of the new light.-Antiphon during the Procession on the Feast of the Purification.

ADORN THY BRIDAL CHAMBER, SION, AND RECEIVE CHRIST THE KING -THESE WORDS ARE ADDRESSED TO SION OF OLD, THE CHOSEN CITY OF GOD’S CHOSEN PEOPLE. . .  but they are meant too for the Sion of today, theMystical Body of Christ. . . . . and each of us should “adorn” the. “bridal chamber” of our souls by the avoidance of sin. . . . by holier living. . . . by more prayer and nearness of mind to God. . . . by exemplary conduct in public and in private . . . ,

THEN WE SHALL “RECEIVE CHRIST THE KING”—WHO WANTS TO BE KING OVER OUR SOULS. . .  whom we too want to be our King. . . .

EMBRACE MARY, WHO IS THE GATE OF HEAVEN—SHE IS OUR MOTHER AND LOVES US TENDERLY. . .  and she wants to lead us home to Heaven by the way of her love. . . . she is the “Mediatrix of All Graces.” . . . and of her bounty we all receive. . . .

FOR SHE BRINGS THE GLORIOUS KING OF THE NEW LIGHT—THROUGH HER CAME THE “STAR OF JACOB.” . .  through her came the “Light of the Gentiles,” among whom we are numbered. . . . through her came the Saviour, who was to “enlighten them that sit in darkness, and in the shadow of death” (Luke 1:79). . . .

SHE BRINGS HIM TO ME-IF I WILL LET HER. . .

THE GLORIOUS KING OF THE NEW LIGHT—THE NEW LIGHT OF THE “LAW OF LOVE,” UNDER WHICH WE LIVE . . . , the new light of the Sacrifice of the Cross. . . . the new light of the Resurrection. . . . the new light of the Mass. . . . the new light of the seven Sacraments. . . . the new light of the sacramentals. . . .

-AND DO I OPEN MY EYES TO THIS NEW LIGHT—ALL THE TIME?. . .  as wide as I can?. . . . and do I let it warm my heart to holier living?. . . .

Dear Mother Mary, I want to prepare my heart and soul and body for the coming of your divine Son. He wants to be my King; you want Him to be; and, I too, want Him to be. But my mind needs light and my will need strength. So please help me every day and every hour to prepare the bridal chamber of my soul for His coming. Enlighten my mind and move my will so that I may give Him a royal welcome when you bring to me the glorious King of the new light.

A PRAYER FOR WORTHINESS PRAY FOR US, O HOLY MOTHER OF GOD, THAT WE MAY BE MADE WORTHY OF THE PROMISES OF CHRIST

PRAY FOR US—SHE LOVES US AND DESIRES TO HELP US. . .  she is our Queen, and so wants to protect us. . . . she is our Mother, and would have us come home finally to her in Heaven. . . . but we must go to her and ask her intercession. . . .

O holy Mother of God—Mother of the All-Holy, and full of grace herself. . . .

Mother of the Infinite, and yet a frail mortal like ourselves. . . . possessing all the influence of a Mother with her Son. . . . -and, all the while, our Mother too. . . .

THAT WE MAY BE MADE WORTHY—OF OURSELVES, WITHOUT GOD’S GRACES, WE ARE WORTH NOTHING. . .  of ourselves, we have committed many sins. . . . and we must have God’s grace if,we are to be pleasing to Him. . . . and we must keep His grace until death if we are to enter Heaven. . . .

OF THE PROMISES OF CHRIST—OF HIS ACTUAL GRACES, WHEREBY OUR ACTIONS ARE MADE HOLY. . .  of His sanctifying grace, whereby we ourselves are made holy. . . . of His sacramental presence in Holy Communion. . . . of union with Him in His Mystical Body. . . . of that peace which He promised to His followers. . . . of His companionship, as Viaticum, as we start the last journey to Him. . . . of the face-to-face vision of Himself, and of God the Father, and of God the Holy Ghost, for ever and ever. . . .

Dear Mother Mary, your Son and my Brother has made wonderful promises for all of us. All these promises came true for you in the fullest way. I want them to come true for me, too. But I am not worthy; far, far from worthy. So pray for me, dearest Mother, that every day and every hour I may become more and more worthy of the promises of Christ.

THE ANGELS GREET MARY

MARY IS TAKEN UP INTO HEAVEN; THE ANGELS REJOICE, AND PRAISING BLESS GOD.-FIRST ANTIPHON OF THE ASSUMPTION

MARY IS TAKEN UP—her time of tarrying is done. . . . the days of her handmaidenship are over. . . . her exile from her Son is at an end. . . .

INTO HEAVEN—WHERE SHE IS TO BE SEATED AT THE RIGHT HAND OF HER SON. . .  where she is to be crowned Queen of heaven and earth. . . . where she is to enjoy the face-to-face vision of God forever. . where she prays always for us her children who are still on our way home. . . .

THE ANGELS REJOICE—BECAUSE THEY ARE HAPPY THAT HER LONG YEARS OF WAITING ARE ENDED. . .  because they have long awaited her to be with them. . . . because the Mother of their King is with them.

AND PRAISING BLESS GOD—BLESS HIM FOR ALL SHE DID—HER “FIAT” WHICH MADE HER GOD’S MOTHER. . .  her care of the Infant Saviour. . . . her Seven Dolours that made her Queen of Martyrs. . . . her generous guidance of the early Church. . . .

BLESS HIM FOR ALL SHE IS—HER IMMACULATE CONCEPTION. . .  her queenship over angels and men. . . . her motherhood of all men. . . .

Mary, Mother, I too rejoice and praising bless God, for you mean more to me than you do to the angels. You are my mother more truly than you are theirs. And so, congratulations, Mother Mary, on your happiness and honour in Heaven. Just keep a watchful eye on me so that I may be with you one day, too for ever.

MARY AND HER ROSARY

O God, whose only-begotten Son by His life, death, and Resurrection hath purchased for us the reward of eternal life, grant, we beseech Thee, that meditating upon these mysteries in the most holy Rosary of the Blessed Virgin Mary, we may imitate what they contain and obtain what they promise. -Collect of the Feast of the Most Holy Rosary.

O GOD, WHOSE ONLY-BEGOTTEN SON BY HIS LIFE, DEATH, AND RESURRECTION HATH PURCHASED FOR US THE REWARD OF ETERNAL LIFE—WHEN ADAM HAD SINNED ALL HOPE OF HEAVEN WAS LOST FOR EACH and every one of us. . . . but then and there in the Garden of Eden God promised a

Redeemer. . . .

AND JESUS CHRIST WAS THAT REDEEMER—AT BETHLEHEM AND NAZARETH IN HIS YEARS OF PREACHING. . .  above-all in His Passion. . . . which was made perfect and complete by His Resurrection and Ascension. . . .

GRANT, WE BESEECH THEE, THAT MEDITATING UPON THESE MYSTERIES IN THE MOST HOLY ROSARY OF THE BLESSED VIRGIN MARY—THE ROSARY IS NOT A MERE SENSELESS REPETITION OF OUR FATHERS AND HAIL MARYS. . .  it must be filled with thought. . . . and it must be crowded with love. . . .

FOR AS WE PRAY, MARY MOTHER TURNS OVER THE PICTURES IN THE BOOK OF THE LIFE OF CHRIST—THE JOYFUL SCENES WHEN HER HEART WAS THRILLED AS SHE LOOKED deeper into the mysteries of God. . . . the Via Dolorosa along which she walked bravely with her son. . . . the glorious days of His and of her own triumphs. . . .

WE MAY BOTH IMITATE WHAT THEY CONTAIN—THAT THE JOYS OF LIFE ARE LAWFUL AND WILL MAKE US SAINTS, IF USED LAWFULLY. . .  that the sorrows of life are but chips from the Cross of Christ for our sanctification. . . . that triumphs and happiness beyond the telling await us too, if we are faithful to the end. . . .

AND OBTAIN WHAT THEY PROMISE—THE SANCTIFYING OF OUR JOYS. . .  the sweetening of our sorrows. . . . a greater knowledge of Christ. . . . a closer union with Him. . . . a more intimate indwelling of Him in our souls. . . .

-AND FINALLY COMPANIONSHIP WITH HIM AND MOTHER MARY, for ever. . . .

Dear Mother Mary, day in and day out during your life on earth you lived the Rosary. I merely say it. But I want to say it in some slight way as you lived it. So teach me, as a mother would, to say my beads reverently and devoutly and thinkingly; then, indeed I shall imitate what they contain and obtain what they promise.

MARY’S GLORY

The holy mother of God is lifted up above the choirs of the angels to the heavenly thrones.-Versicle and Response of the Office of the Assumption.

Holy—by her Immaculate Conception. . . . by her constant concurrence with grace. . . . by her self-immolating “Be it done to me.” . . . by her nine months of intimacy with her unborn Child. . . . by her thirty long years of daily familiarity with her Son. . . .

MOTHER OF GOD—MOTHER IN FULLEST SENSE, YET “VIRGIN UNDEFILED. . . . .

Mother of the Eternal who became hers in time. . . .

Mother yet creature, too, and utterly dependent on Him. . . .

IS LIFTED UP—THAT IS HEAVEN’S ANSWER TO HER “BEHOLD THE HANDMAID OF THE LORD.” . .  truly now “He that is mighty hath done great things to me.” . . . and God “hath exalted the humble” maid of Galilee, beyond all the women of the world. . . .

ABOVE THE CHOIRS OF THE ANGELS—ABOVE GABRIEL, WHO GAVE HER GOD’S GREAT MESSAGE. . .  above Michael, who conquered God’s first foes. . . . above Raphael, who had been God’s ministering messenger. . . . above Seraphim and Cherubim, who stand nearest to God. . . .

-FOR SHE IS “THE QUEEN OF ANGELS.” . .

TO THE HEAVENLY THRONES—NEXT TO GOD THE FATHER, WHO CHOSE HER TO BE THE MOTHER OF HIS SON. . .  next to God the Son, who loves her as the sole human cause of His existence as Man. . . . next to God the Holly Ghost, who honours her as His Spouse. . . . there she reigns as “Queen of Heaven. . . . . . but she is still our Mother. . . . and still prays for us. . . . and still watches over us. . . .

Mother Mary, because you are in Heaven I sometimes think of you as being far away. But I know that isn’t, true. I know you watch over me and guide me more carefully than any earthly mother could; and I am very happy that you do. Please keep on watching over me until the danger of this life is over and I am safe at home with you. ‘

MARY’S PEACE FOR THE WORLD QUEEN OF PEACE, PRAY FOR US.-LITANY OF LORETO,

QUEEN OF PEACE—PEACE—THE TRANQUILLITY OF ORDER, WHERE THERE IS A PLACE FOR EVERYTHING IN ITS PLACE. . .  where there are no disturbance, no misunderstandings. . . .

QUEEN OF PEACE—IN HER OWN LIFE WHEN ON EARTH—WHEN THERE WAS PERFECT HARMONY AT ALL TIMES BETWEEN ALL HER POWERS OF SOUL AND BODY. . .  where grace dominated and perfected nature. . . . where God reigned supreme. . . .

NOW IN HEAVEN—WHERE SHE IS QUEEN OF ANGELS AND OF SAINTS . .  where she is Daughter of the Father, Mother of the Son and Spouse of the Holy Spirit. . . . where, as Queen, she is the dispenser of all the wealth of God. . . .

NOW ON EARTH—IN THE HEARTS OF ALL WHO REALLY LOVE HER—FOR THEY HAVE LEARNED INCREASINGLY TO HOLD IN CHECK THEIR lower natures. . . . and have constantly attuned their minds to the mind of God. . . . and have daily harmonized their wills with His. . . .

IN THE HEARTS OF THOSE WHO KNOW HER NOT—BY REASON OF HER MOTHERLY SOLICITUDE TO HAVE THEM BECOME docile children. . . . by reason of the graces that she wins for them to gain self-conquest. . . .

PRAY FOR US—IF EVER MANKIND NEEDED THE HELP OF THE QUEEN OF PEACE, IT NEEDS IT NOW, THAT. WE MAY LEARN—LOVE IN A WORLD OF HATE. . .  tranquillity in a world of turmoil. . . . complete reliance on God in a world that has long forsaken Him. . . . to keep the vision of God and His Heaven steadily before us. . . .

Dear Mother Mary, your soul was pierced by the sword but it was always at peace. Your life was crowded thick with trials and sorrows but they never disturbed the inner depths of your soul. Troubles come to me but unfortunately they frequently rasp me and irritate me much. That is not right and I ask you to. teach me to bring peace into my life. And Mother Mary-do bring peace soon into the lives of all men that our war-torn world may be restored to peace.

MARY’S PRAISES

Daughters of Sion, go forth and see your Queen whom the morning star praises, at whose beauty the sun and moon marvel, and over whom all the sons of God rejoice.-Introit of the Mass for Our Lady Queen of All Saints and Mother of Fair Love.

Daughters of Sion, go forth—Holy Mother Church, the New Sion, insistently calls on all her children to praise and love Our Mother Mary. . . . to do this we must “go forth “—from the narrow confines of our selfishness. . . . from our constant attention to merely earthly things. . . . from earth to Heaven itself. . . .

AND SEE YOUR QUEEN—MARY IS OUR QUEEN BY EVERY RIGHT. BUT IS SHE OUR QUEEN IN FACT—GUIDING OUR MINDS?. . .  ruling our wills?. . . . moulding our lives always on hers?. . . .

WHOM THE MORNING STAR PRAISES, AT WHOSE .BEAUTY THE SUN AND MOON MARVEL—THEY WOULD IF THEY HAD INTELLIGENCE. . .  and, in the language of love, we personify them, and have them praise and marvel. . . . for she is worthy of all praise for all her holiness. . . . and her beauty as God’s Mother is ravishing. . . .

OVER WHOM ALL THE SONS OF GOD REJOICE—DOWN THROUGH THE CENTURIES, WE HEAR THE CHANT OF MARY’S PRAISES. . .  for devotion to her is the true mark of every Catholic. . . .

AND WHERE DO I FIT INTO THE PICTURE—DO I SING HER PRAISES WORTHILY IN MY DAILY ANGELUS?. . .  do I marvel at her beauty as I recall her in each mystery of the Rosary?. . . . do I rejoice over her as her many feast days come around?. . . . am I an honour and a credit to her at home?. . . . in school ?. . . . at work?. . . . at play?. . . .

Dear Mother Mary, the morning star and the sun and moon can’t really praise you or marvel at your beauty. But I can; and more than that, since “imitation is the sincerest form of flattery,” I can reproduce, at least in part, your life in mine. I should do this and I want to-and with your help I am going to try harder than I have ever tried before to grow each day more like you.”

Nihil Obstat

RECCAREDUS FLEMING, Censor Theol. Deput.

Imprimi Potest

@ loannes Carolus,

Archiep. Dublinen.,

Hiberniae Primas.

Dublini, die 9 Dec., anno 1944

********

This Virtue Called Tolerance

INDEX

IS TOLERANCE A VIRTUE AT ALL?

Is it anything other than a mental confusion and personal cowardice.

Is it something that we ought to cultivate or that we ought to root out of our souls.

THE POPULAR “VIRTUE.”

When any human virtue is praised as much as tolerance is, we reach the state of mind of Hamlet when he wondered if the praisers did not protest too much.

Naturally, we cannot start any discussion of tolerance unless we realise why it is so vastly praised. Like the rest of civilised men and women who have taken to themselves the pleasant prefix gentle, I abhor the cruelty and, if you wish, the intolerance of Hitler, Stalin, the K.K.K., the Jehovah Witnesses, the Jew-baiters, who make life intolerable for a large sector of their fellow men.

But is what these supposedly “intolerant” people are doing really intolerance? Isn’t it rather cruelty . . . or greed . . . or ignorance . . or a sheer love of making others suffer . . . or jealousy . . . or a blind, animal distaste for those who block their purposes?

MORE QUESTIONS,

Since we seem to be in for a barrage of questions, I might as well go on.

Is any man who has firm convictions about anything whatsoever capable of being entirely tole